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THE WORKS

JONATHAN EDWARDS, A.M.

AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS AND WRITINGS,

BY HENRY ROGERS.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. L

LONDON :
F. WESTLEY AND A. H. DAVIS, STATIONERS' COURT.
NEW YORK:
DANIEL APPLETON AND CO., 200, BROADWAY.
PRINTED BY J. R, AND C. CHILDS, BUNGAY.
MDCCCXXXV.

CONTENTS.

I. Essay on the Genius and Writings of Jonathan
Edwards - - - - - i
II. A Careful and Strict Inquiry into the Prevailing No
tions of the Freedom of Will.
Part I. Wherein are explained and stated various
Terms and things belonging to the subject of the
ensuing Discourse - - 4
Part II. Wherein it is considered, whether there is
or can be any such sort of Freedom of Will, as that
wherein Arminians place the essence of the Liberty
of all Moral Agents ; and whether any such thing
ever was or can be conceived of - 13
Part III. Wherein is inquired, whether any such
Liberty of Will as Arminians hold, be necessary
to Moral Agency, Virtue and Vice, Praise and
Dispraise, &c. - - 41
*Part IV. Wherein the chief grounds of the reason
ings of Arminians, in support and defence of the
fore-mentioned notions of Liberty, Moral Agency,
&c. and against the opposite doctrine, are con
sidered - - 57
Appendix - - 89
III. Dissertation on the End for which God Created the
World.
Chap. I. What Reason dictates concerning this affair 97
II. What may be learned from the Holy Scrip
tures - - 106
IV. A Dissertation on the Nature of True Virtue.
Chap. I. Concerning the essence of true virtue 122
II. How love respects different beings 123
III. Concerning the secondary beauty 127
IV. Of self-love and its influence - - 130
V. Natural conscience, and the moral sense - 133
VI. Of particular instincts of nature 135
VII. The reasons of many mistakes - 137
VIII. Whether virtue be tounded in sentiment 140
V. The Great Christian Doctrine of Original Sin De
fended.
Part I. Evidences of Original Sin from Facts and
Events - - I«
Part II. Proofs of the Doctrine from particular
parts of Scripture - - 177
Part III. Evidence of the Doctrine from Redemp
tion by Christ - - - 211
Part IV. Containing Answers to Objections - 216
VI. A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections, in Three
Parts.
Part I. Concerning the nature of the Affections
and their importance in Religion - - 236

page
Part II. Showing what are no certain Signs that Re
ligious Affections are truly gracious, or that they
are not - - 245
Part III. Showing what are distinguishing Signs of
truly gracious and holy Affections - - - 262
Appendix to the Treatise on the Affections - 330
VII. Narrative of Surprising Conversions - - 344
VIII. Thoughts on the Revival of Religion in New England.
Part I. A glorious Work of God - 366
Part II. Obligations to acknowledge, rejoice in,
and promote this work - - - 380
Part III. Wherein the zealous Promoters of this
Work have been injuriously blamed - 390
Part IV. What things are to be corrected and
avoided - 397
Part V. What ought to be done to promote this work 421
IX. Inquiry Concerning Qualifications for Communion.
Part I. The Question stated and explained - 434
Part II. Reasons for the Negative of the Question 436
Part III. Objections answered - 460
X. Misrepresentations Corrected and Truth Vindicated, in
Reply to the Rev. Solomon Williams.
Part I. General Misrepresentations by Mr. Wil
liams - 486
Part II. Examination of Mr. Williams's Scheme - 491
Part III. Remarks on Mr. Williams's Reasoning - 509
Appendix. A letter to the people of Northampton -529
XI. A History of the Work of Redemption.
Period I. From the Fall to the Incarnation 536
Period II. From Christ's Incarnation to his Re
surrection - 572
Period III. From Christ's Resurrection to the End
of the World - 582
XII. Five Discourses on the Soul's Eternal Salvation.
Disc. I. Justification by Faith alone - - 622
II. Pressing into the Kingdom of God - - 654
III. Ruth's Resolution - - 664
IV. The Justice of God in the Damnation of
Sinners - - - 668
V. The Excellency of Jesus Christ- - 680

XIII. Theological Questions

690

AN ESSAY

THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

JONATHAN EDWARDS.

The name of Jonathan Edwards is held in pro
found veneration by thinking men of all parties ;
and this universal homage, when contrasted with
the obscurity of his life and the peculiarities of his
opinions, is one, among a thousand proofs, that
real meritwill never be long overlooked, and that the
rewards of fame are not so capriciously bestowed
as is often imagined. Though public opinion
sometimes makes preposterous attempts to elevate
the mean and the little, and even leaves transcend
ent merit to struggle for awhile with neglect, it is
sure, sooner or later, to rectify its errors. We in
variably find that those laurels with which, as if in
mockery, it has graced inferior genius, begin to
wither in the very hour of their bloom ; and that it
has reserved its " immortal amaranth" for brows
worthy of such imperishable honours.
Never was a triumph of genius more decisive
than that of Jonathan Edwards. By the concur
rent voice of all who have perused his writings, he
is assigned one of the first, if not the very first place,
amongst the masters of human reason. Many of
the most acute metaphysicians and accomplished
divines of the past and present age, have been
the most ardent of his admirers ; we refer to such
men as Hume, Mackintosh, Stewart, Robert Hall,
and Chalmers. All these celebrated men differed
from Edwards in some of his most cherished specu
lations, and some of them abhorred all the peculiar
doctrines, on the explication and defence of which
he concentrated the full force of his mighty intel
lect ; yet they all agree in the homage they render
to that intellect : like that of a few other very great
minds, it was too powerful to allow even the pro
verbial meanness of controversial animosity to
attempt the ungracious work of depreciation.
Jonathan Edwards extorted this unanimous ap
plause, by the greatness of his genius in a single
department. He was not favoured by any one of
the many adventitious advantages which so often

help genius to fame ; he was utterly destitute of
those graces of imagination and of style, which have
sometimes clothed abstract truth in many of the
attractions of poetry, and administered the pro-
foundest wisdom in the enticing vehicle of eloquence.
He wrote for special purposes, and addressed him
self to a narrow circle ; and he has managed to
embody his profound conceptions in the most re
pulsive of all possible forms. Under such circum
stances, nothing but transcendent greatness could
have subdued the disgust which the pride of phi
losophy would necessarily feel at the peculiarities
of his religious opinions, or with which a sensitive
taste would recoil from the hideous deformities of
his style. Yet his gigantic force of intellect, and
that alone, has not merely redeemed his writings
from obscurity, but attracted the attention not only
of many of the wisest, but the most polished of
mankind. Like Paul at Athens, he has compelled
even the Stoics and Epicureans to listen to him by
the depth and originality of his speculations.
We shall now proceed to the objects of the pre
sent essay, which are, to attempt an analysis of
the chief peculiarities of Edwards's character, intel
lectual and moral ; and then to make a few obser
vations on his principal productions.
Those minds which have in any very consider
able measuredistinguished themselves, have usually
been remarkable for the pre-eminent vigour in
which they have possessed some particular faculty.
This supremacy of certain powers of the mind is
perhaps generally to be traced to the original struc
ture of the mind itself, although it is sometimes
the result of early application, or of a strong bent in
some particular direction. There are some of the
faculties, we know, (though generally such as are
less immediately connected with that inspired thing
we call genius,) which are capable of indefinite
expansion ; just as the senses of the savage may
be practised and disciplined to an almost incredible

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

degree of acuteness : or as the muscles which sus
tain the pressure of daily toil, at length develop
themselves in enormous disproportion to the rest
of the body ; securing, it is true, a vast accession of
strength, but by a sacrifice of symmetry and beauty.
In some instances it is even probable that severe
and unremitting application to some originally un
congenial pursuit, may alter or reverse the ordi
nances of nature; such may have been the urgent
demand upon some one faculty, not at first pos
sessed in an eminent degree, as actually to give
it a supremacy over that which would, under other
circumstances, have more rightfully claimed it.
That naturally paramount faculty may never have
been awakened from its torpor ; never exposed to
any of those influences from without, which would
have attracted its slumbering energies from the
cloud. But whatever the degree of influence which na
ture or habit, the original organization of the mind
or the influence of circumstances, may exert in the
formation of intellectual character, or to whatever
extent the one may sometimes resist or overbear
the other, it is certain, in fact, that the most highly
gifted minds are generally distinguished by the
gigantic strength in which they possess some one
faculty. Rare, very rare indeed, is it to meet with
that symmetrical structure of intellect, in which
there is nothing either of excess or of defect ; in
which each faculty fills its appropriate sphere, but
never invades that of another ; in which each is
developed just in that degree which secures the
greatest perfection of all. This perfection of in
tellectual beauty, like every other species of per
fect beauty, is not to be found in a world like this ;
it is purely ideal. Its separate elements alone are
discoverable. If we wish to form a conception of
such perfect beauty, we must, as in other cases,
refine and exalt, by the aid of imagination, the
materials which are submitted to our observation.
We must roam, as it were, through the world of
intellect, and selecting from many minds the ap
propriate excellence of each, mould these frag
ments of intellectual beauty into " an immortal
feature of loveliness and perfection."
If this were the proper place for it, it were easy
to vindicate the wisdom which has decreed, even to
the greatest minds, this inequality of structure. — .
It is in harmony with that principle of compensa
tion which pervades all the works of the Creator ;
which, leaving the most gifted imperfect, gives the
proudest no cause to glory, and conferring on the
humblest something or other which the proudest
wants, redeems the most insignificant from abso
lute contempt. The same principle, moreover,
secures the rapid progress of the human mind in
every species of knowledge, by facilitating that
division of labout which is the stern condition of
all improvement. The concentration of the facul
ties on some one object is indispensably necessary
to profound investigation ; and, on the contrary,
the diffusion of the faculties over a large surface is,
generally speaking, absolutely inseparable from a
comparatively superficial knowledge. To attain

either solidity or extent of knowledge, the one or
the other must in some measure be sacrificed ; the
human mind cannot at once embrace every species
of dimension ; and the exceptions to this, we are
disposed to think, are rather apparent than real.
Neither ought it to be overlooked, that the inequa
lity of intellect of which we have spoken, secures
that boundless variety which so conspicuously dis
plays the wisdom of the Creator. Next to the
beauty of such variety itself, we may admire the
simplicity of the means by which it is secured. As
we analyse the infinitely diversified appearances of
nature, we find, to our astonishment, that every
thing tends to simplicity ; is resolving itself back
into a few elementary principles ; and that the
complexity of the universe is the complexity not so
much of distinct principles of existence, as of re
lations, combinations, and modes. When the che
mist subjects to his analysis the various objects of
nature, he rarely finds any principle absolutely
new, but elements with which he has been long
familiar in new forms. He sees that the exhaust-
less variety of the universe is produced by the
chemical affinities between different substances,
securing an infinite action and interaction of one
upon another, and as many different results as these
primary elements and their compounds can be
mingled in different proportions.
It is just so in the world of intellect; no two
minds were ever exactly alike ; yet (as each dis
covery of mental philosophy more strongly inclines
us to believe) the original faculties which enter
into the constitution of all minds are exceed
ingly few and simple : but by mingling these few
elements in different proportions, and subjecting
each mind to the endlessly varied influences of real
life, the diversities of mental character are as ex-
haustless as those which are to be found in any
other department of nature. These considerations,
even if there were no other, would prove that the
arrangement which generally secures the su
premacy of some one faculty in the human mind,
at once promotes the happiness and secures the
harmony of the world.
Jonathan Edwards, so far from being an ex
ception to this general rule, was perhaps the most
striking exemplification of its truth, with which the
whole history of the human intellect can furnish
us. So enormous is the development, so pro
digious the superiority, of one particular faculty,
that he might be almost said to possess but one :
that one is not far to seek; it is impressed on
every page he ever wrote, and lies open to the ob
servation of the most casual reader. It is, indeed,
so obvious as to make it almost absurd formally
to mention it. The character of his mind was
essentially logical ; the dominant attribute was
Reason. — He possessed probably in a greater
degree than was ever before vouchsafed to man,
the ratiocinative faculty ; and in this respect, at
least, he well deserves the emphatic admiration
which Robert Hall expressed when he somewhat
extravagantly said, that Edwards was " the great
est of the sons of men."

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

Not only was this faculty, as we imagine, origi
nally bestowed in immeasurably greater perfection
than any other, and formed the characteristic fea
ture of his intellectual organization ; but it was
cultivated and disciplined with an assiduity, an
incessant, indefatigable diligence, which again
doubled the disparity between this and his other
powers. His other faculties, inferior though they
were by comparison, (of which we shall speak
more particularly hereafter,) never reached any
thing like the expansion of which they were origi
nally susceptible ; they had no room to grow ;
they were withered and stunted beneath the gigan
tic shadow of that intellect which, shooting its
roots and spreading its branches in every direc
tion, filled the whole cavity of the soul, and ab
sorbed to itself every particle of nutriment which
the soil could supply.
When we say that Jonathan Edwards was pre
eminently distinguished by his logical powers, we
use these words in the strictest sense, as implying
a mind peculiarly adapted for deductive reasoning ;
a mind, whose delight it is to draw inferences from
known or supposed premises ; in other words,
which has for its objects the relations between dif
ferent propositions. The logical process, properly
so called, has nothing to do with either the truth
or the falsity of the premises, but merely with the
connexion between the premises and the conclu
sion. Thus we speak very intelligibly of reason
ing correctly from false premises, and of reasoning
falsely from sound premises. — But the precise
peculiarities of Edwards's mind will be better un
derstood, after we have made one or two general
observations. It is obvious, that before the real truth of any
proposition can be established, it is necessary both
that the premises should be true, and that the con
clusion should be logically deduced from them.
If either of the above conditions be neglected, it is
plain that the results of the whole process will be
vitiated. If the premises be false, let the argu
mentation be ever so unexceptionably conducted,
the conclusion will be false ; or at all events can
only be hypothetically established, that is, on the
assumption of the premises ; while, if a fallacy has
been introduced into the reasoning process, the
utmost caution in the establishment of the pre
mises will avail nothing. Thus, it is evident that
no conclusion respecting a matter of fact, no con
clusion in physical science, using those words in
their widest latitude, can be established unless
both the above conditions be strictly complied
But it is not so with hypothetical truth ; this
consists of conclusions deduced from premises, the
soundness of which is already admitted, either
really, or for the sake of argument. Here it is
only necessary to ascertain that the argumentative
process has been accurately conducted ; in other
words that no fallacy lurks between the premises
and tlie conclusion. The stupendous piles of
mathematical demonstrations all rest upon this
foundation, and require no other. Certain propo

sitions, called definitions, are first laid down, and
assented to, and then, all the profound and mazy
truths of that enchanting science are evolved by a
process as unerring as it is beautiful ; all that is
required is, simply to compare the propositions
which have been already conceded with one
another; the conclusions thus arrived at forming
new propositions, constituting by fresh comparison
among themselves, or with the original propositions,
the basis of an interminable series of demonstra
tions. In the same manner elaborate systems of ethics
or political economy, might be constructed (if hy
pothetical truth were worth any thing on such
subjects) by the concession of a few preliminary
principles. It was this fact which led Locke into
his splendid and, at first sight, perplexing paradox,
that there is no reason why the science of Morals
should not be made as strictly demonstrative as
that of Mathematics. — Of precisely the same
stamp are many of the demonstrations of the school
men. It is true those writers are often given to
the most frivolous verbal reasoning ; yet we also
find in them trains of abstract reasoning, display
ing the most prodigious subtlety and acuteness.
But then they are hypothetical; and therefore
generally useless. — Now it is in the purely de
ductive process, that the peculiar genius of Ed
wards displays its matchless vigour.
From the above remarks it must be obvious,
that though correct premises (that is, premises ab
solutely true) and correct argumentation are ne
cessary in the establishment of by far the greater
part of truths which demand deductive reasoning
at all, and correct argumentation in the establish
ment of any truth so established, yet that the two
parts of this great process, — the investigation and
establishment of premises, and a logical use of
them, are so different, that it by no means follows
that a mind most eminently adapted to the one
shall be equally fitted for the other. It is true,
indeed, that we find the qualities of mind neces
sary to both, generally conjoined in the same in
dividuals, though it may be in very different
proportions. When possessed together, in any
considerable degree, they constitute conjointly the
highest order of philosophic genius. Still they
are not necessarily united ; so far from it, that we
sometimes see them almost totally dissevered ;
possessed singly by different individuals in great
perfection ; and if possessed in the same degree of
strength by the same individual, would have made
a philosopher of the very first class. In one man
we may perceive much argumentative acuteness
where the premises are not very numerous or com
plicated, but very inferior powers of observation,
and scarcely any memory for facts ; in another,
acute observation and a retentive memory, but an
utter incapacity for the higher exercises of intel
lect. Such a man holds not his multifarious and
curious knowledge together by any of those grand
and comprehensive relations, which it is the chief
delight of a philosophic mind to discover and to
contemplate. The facts which crowd the capa-

IV

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

cious memory of such a mutilated intellect re
semble the rarities in an ill-arranged museum,
before science has attempted her classifications.
The principal use of such mere pioneers in phi
losophy, is to supply to minds of a superior order
the materials for profounder speculation. We ad
mit, however, that in the generality of instances,
the habits of mind of which we have spoken are as
sociated, at least in some degree, though they are
found in very unequal proportions ; proportions so
unequal, that the preponderance of the one rather
than of the other shall almost uniformly give the
character to the mind. To this representation
the use of common language precisely corresponds.
— Minds which are distinguished by that calm,
enlarged, and far-sighted spirit of induction, which
traverses the whole circle of a question, and views
it in all its relations before it presumes to reason
upon them, we designate comprehensive, however
acute they may be ; while those which are pre
eminently distinguished by subtilty of argument,
we call acute, whatever their comprehensiveness.
Those prodigies of intellect, Bacon, Butler, and
Barrow, (acute as they were,) belong rather to the
former class than to the latter. Descartes, Locke,
and Jonathan Edwards, (comprehensive as they
were,) belong rather to the latter class than to the
former. We have thus endeavoured distinctly to explain
what we meant when we said, that the great cha
racteristic of Edwards's mind was logical subtilty.
We are far from denying that it was wonderfully
comprehensive as well as acute ; we only affirm
that acuteness was its main characteristic. But
it may, perhaps, be said, (and this we shall shortly
see has been said, in our opinion incautiously, in
reference to some of the most important of Ed
wards's reasonings,) that if this estimate of Ed
wards's intellectual character be true, we might rea
sonably expect more subtilty than conclusiveness in
his reasonings ; and that, however much of logical
truth he may display, that is, however exact may be
the correspondence between his premises and his
conclusions, he would be liable, like the school
men, to assume defective premises, and rest content
with a too hasty induction. We acknowledge
that a priori we might have anticipated some such
result as this ; and it is probable that these fears
might have been in some measure realized, had
Edwards reasoned chiefly on certain subjects in
which the premises are very various and compli
cated, and demand a most patient and compre
hensive induction ; as for instance, on some sub
jects connected with political economy, or on
some branches of physical science. We shall en
deavour to show presently that this indecent haste
of generalization — this precipitation of the logical
process, was, in at least one instance,* the error
into which he actually fell. But, in general, it
may be affirmed that it forms the peculiar value
of Edwards's writings, and a striking exhibition
of his consummate judgment, that he has em-
* See our subsequent remarks on Edwards's Theory of " True
Virtue."

ployed his matchless powers of argument exactly
within the sphere most legitimately appropriated
to their exercise. It matters not how long or how
intricate a train of reasoning may be, (always
supposing each conclusion in the whole series lo
gically argued,) provided the premises be sound.
Now it will be seen upon examination, that Ed
wards's most stupendous efforts of intellect are
founded upon premises exceedingly few in num
ber and simple in character ; the abstract princi
ples from which his argument generally takes its
departure, are not more perspicuously explained
than they are readily admitted. Thus, for in
stance, all the purely argumentative parts of that
most prodigious effort, the Treatise on the " Will," .
will be found, upon analysis, to contain but this one
postulate, — that " every effect must have a cause ; "
and of the thousands who have denied the conclu
siveness of Edwards's reasoning, perhaps scarcely
one was ever absurd enough to deny his premises.
As though aware of the character of his own
mind ; as though conscious, that to give his intel
lect its full play, he must break away from the de
batable ground of dubious facts and controverted
premises, and as though eager to commence his
cherished employment of strict ratiocination, he
takes but little for granted, and that little easily
understood ; and then proceeds to unfold, step by
step, from the few meagre and generally self-evi
dent propositions with which he sets out, the most
profound and intricate trains of reasoning ; first
drawing some obvious conclusion from, the prin
ciples themselves, and then making each conclu
sion the basis and element of fresh arguments. It
is no argument to say, (as the celebrated writer of
the present day, to whom we have already ad
verted, and to whose observations we shall here
after make more specific reference, has almost
ventured to do,) that those chains of abstract rea
soning, though each link be rivetted with ada
mant, are worthless, because hypothetical; that
is, because they depend upon the admission of
the premises ; since, as we have already said,
Edwards's premises are for the most part so few
and so simple, that though his opponents are
often hardy enough to question the solidity of
his reasoning, they rarely dare to dispute the
soundness of his preliminary propositions. In
conformity with what we have represented as the
ruling character of his mind, his passion for pure
argumentation, we may observe, that though Ed
wards never flinches from the consideration of any
subject that fairly comes before him, whatever the
amount of investigation it demands, or however
complicated the premises which must decide it, he
certainly always shines most when he can first of
all circumscribe the question within exceedingly
narrow limits, and after requesting his adversary's
assent to the apparently harmless and self-evident
propositions from which he is to take his departure,
abandon himself solely to his own creative powers
of argument. This is his favourite employment.
The merest filaments of abstract truth, fine as the
" thread of gossamer," he will weave and inter-

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

weave till he has fabricated a web so close, so
strong, so ingeniously fortified, as will defy both
the violence and the arts of sophistry to escape
from its meshes. Or (if we may change the figure)
he goes forth to the field of controversy in a pano
ply resembling the silken armour of some oriental
chieftains ; which though composed of such slender
materials, has been known to be as completely
sabre proof as a coat of mail. So far as we know,
there are no trains of reasoning out of the exact
sciences, at all to be compared with many of those
of Jonathan Edwards, in originality, continuity,
and accuracy.
The tendency of Edwards's intellect to fix upon a
few propositions, and then, subjecting them to his
tremendous powers of abstraction, to elicit a va
riety of unexpected inferences from them, is most
conclusively shown, where it ought to have been
most carefully repressed, — in the posthumous pa
pers on certain subjects connected with physical
science, lately published in the admirable Life of
Jonathan Edwards by his descendant Sereno
Dwight. In those papers we cannot fail to observe how
I ill adapted was the mind of Edwards for those ex
tensive exercises of induction, that long and patient
[investigation of facts, that laborious collection of
[the mere materials and elements of reasoning be
fore the process of reasoning and generalization
! begins, which are so absolutely necessary in every
department of physical science; without which,
indeed, the profoundest reasonings, being, purely
hypothetical, must always, on such subjects, be
worthless. As though not only conscious where
I his real power lay, but irresistibly impelled to ex
ercise it, we find him perpetually escaping from the
field of experiment and fact ; taking his premises
for granted, and consequently reasoning absurdly
[from them: -or else, as if aware of the insecure
'ground on which he trod when he attempted the
: induction of facts and impatient to begin his fa-
' vourite exercise of purely logical illation, he is
continually retreating to those obscurest of almost
all subjects, the metaphysics (if we may so speak)
of natural philosophy ; to discussions on the ele
mentary structure of matter, the forms of atoms,
their laws of action, the genesis of motion, and
the original principles of nature. Of the astound
ing assurance with which he could take facts for
granted, and then dogmatize upon them, the fol
lowing extracts may suffice as a specimen : we
have selected them, first, because they are short ;
j and, secondly, because they so exactly illustrate
the sentiment we have expressed.
« COMETS The use of comets seems to be, by their efflu
via which go off in their tails continually, but especially in
1C.W nerihllion, to feed the sun with matter, suitable to be
converted into rays of light, to repair the waste of such par-
?£l« bv the vast diffusion of light which it daily emits.
ThPvare sent out of the atmosphere of the comet, not as
•cimr hv the weight of their circumambient ether; for it
i_ « leen demonstrated to be so small, and so near to
nothing that it is not supposable that it can be by any
such means; but by the force or attraction of the emitted

rays of the sun, which, passing through the atmosphere of
the comets, by their attraction, draw after them, continually,
those particles, of which the tail is made up. The rays,
that pass by very near them, act upon them by their attrac
tion, and set them into a motion from the sun, and parallel
to the motion of the emitted rays of the sun. There is no
matter, by this means, sent out of the atmosphere into the
tail, but that which is most suitable to be the aliment of
the sun, and to be converted into rays of light; for the rays
of light attract that matter, that is of their own nature, and
suitable to be turned into particles of light, or fire, im
mensely more strongly than others, as appears by the ac
tion of particles of light, or fire, upon natural bodies, in
setting them on fire. Their action is, at first, on those par
ticles in the natural body that are of ihe same kind, or fit
to become particles of fire, and, by this attraction of extrin
sic rays, those within are set in motion, whereby the body
is set on fire. And thus, by the powerful action of those
particles, one on another, there arises that most rapid and
vehement motion of them in fire, and causes them to leap
forth, with such immense celerity, as to come from the sun
hither in a few minutes. This strong action of these par
ticles, one on another, probably arises from their being im
mensely denser than other particles."
" ICE. COLD. Those nitrous particles, that are said to
be thrust into the water, in the process of freezing, do not
keep themselves immovable after the manner of wedges, by
filling up the spaces between, so that they shall not have
room to play and move freely among themselves ; for this
hypothesis still leaves the matter inexplicable. For, 1. lt
is inexplicable how these wedges should thrust themselves
in so fast, into a heap of particles so exceedingly movable,
that they cannot be stirred at all : how these wedges should
be of so happy a shape, and should so happily, each of
them, find a vacuity among the vacuities of-the water, ex
actly accommodated to their shape, as to completely fill
them up, so that of all these little rolling slippery particles
none can stir at all, insomuch that that which was before
a liquid body, shall not only be made something more
solid like clay, but should be so hard, as not to give way
without breaking. Let us suppose, for the easiness of
conceiving, that the particles of water were as big as peas.
Let the frigid particles be as big in proportion, but other
wise having all the same qualities. Let a multitude of
freezing particles be hovering in the air, over this heap of
globules. It is very probable that many of them would
get in among the globules, so that perhaps they would not
slip, and roll one over another, so easily for it. But it is
inconceivable how these nitrous particles, being hard,
should so be accommodated to the angled vacuities, that
all the vacuities should be so filled, that the heap of glo
bules should be so hard as to bear a great weight, a hard
shock, without any impression being made upon it. But
it would be yet more strange if it was evident, that there
was more vacuity, now, in the heap of globules, than be
fore, and yet none of the globules should have room to stir;
which yet is certainly the case in water, as all know, ice
being lighter than water. But this matter of freezing may
be easily solved from the certain principles foregoing
&c. &c. '
These papers, displaying at once such min
gled acuteness and absurdity, such vigorous logic
and such inconclusive premises, remind us of no
thing so strongly as the metaphysical physics (if
we may be allowed such an expression) of Des
cartes, who indeed possessed, perhaps in a greater
degree than any other man, the very peculiarities
which most strongly characterized the intellect of
Jonathan Edwards. When Edwards is upon the
above-mentioned uncongenial topics, their minds
exactly resemble one another. The discussions in
which the one indulges on the forms and mutual
action of atoms and the elementary principles of
nature, will very well match with the plenum and
the vortices of the other. ¦
b

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

It must be remembered, however, that what
were the sober speculations of Descartes's maturer
age, were only the amusements of Edwards's most
precocious youth. Apparently aware (as we
have already hinted) of the character of his own
mind and convinced that doubtful premises must
necessarily vitiate the closest and strongest tissue
of argument, or happily driven into another and
more congenial track by the necessity of de
fending his religious opinions ; Edwards has
chosen, for the most stupendous exercises of
his reasoning powers, subjects which gave full
and lawful scope to all the peculiarities of his
genius. It is said, indeed, that in early life Edwards dis
played an acuteness and patience of observation
which seemed indications of a genius peculiarly
adapted to physical science. And hence some have
argued that, had he devoted his life to natural philo
sophy, he would have been nearly as great in that
department as in those in which he has achieved
such wonders. Yet, with all due deference to those
who have expressed such an opinion, we must be per
mitted to dissent from it. The reader will see in
the sequel that the reasons which prompt our dis
sent, so far from detracting, in any way, from the
admiration due to Edwards's genius, rather enhance
it. We are far, very far, from saying that Edwards
was absolutely deficient in that inquisitiveness of
mind, and those powers of observation, which are
so essential to any considerable attainments in
natural philosophy. Those very miscellanea from
which we have already made a few extracts, show,
in many parts, an acuteness and extent of observa
tion not often equalled. But though he possessed
these powers in a very considerable degree, it was
in no sort of proportion to the matchless vigour in
which he possessed other powers. Compared with
those of the generality of men, Edwards's powers
of observation might be said to be unusually
strong ; compared with some other faculties of his
own mind, they were of a very inferior order.
Such was his passion for abstract reasoning, that
we are persuaded it would, under any circum
stances, have stamped the character of his mind , and
overborne any other tendency of his nature which
should dare to dispute its supremacy. Nor can we
help thinking that the truth of these remarks is
fully confirmed by those posthumous fragments to
which we have already more than once referred.
Some of the facts they contain are, we grant, such
as could have occurred only to a very observing
mind ; but, on the other hand, how often does he
reason with the utmost confidence, from data not
only the most doubtful, but which have no sort
of evidence to sustain them ; which are neither
more nor less than pure assumptions ! The simple
truth is, that his uncontrollable propensity for strict
ratiocination is too impatient to get into exercise.
We are persuaded that no man of any thing like
equal powers or equal knowledge with Jonathan
Edwards, was ever betrayed into such incautious
reasoning on physical subjects, since Bacon set
the example of a purer style of philosophizing.

What can we think for instance of such a passage
as the following ?
" The parts which constitute the atmosphere are two
fold. (1.) The parts of the ether, drawn and pressed to
gether by gravity to the earth : which is nothing but exT
ceedingly minute, subtile, active particles, which parts are
the most penetrating. Now it is certain, if there be any
ethereal matter at all, however little, this is one part of the
atmosphere. For, if there be any, that which is round
about the earth, or any other celestial body, will be very
much condensed and pressed together, by its tendency to
such body. So that although it be almost infinitely rare,
at the distance of four or five diameters of the earth ; yet it
will, according to the laws of gravity, be thick enough at
the surface of the earth : so that there are no proper bounds
to this part of the atmosphere, inasmuch as it is nothing
but the ether pressed together, according as it is nearer or
further from the centre of the earth. It is in vain therefore
to pretend to setting bounds to the atmosphere. (2.) An
other part are the vapours and exhalations which ascend
from the globe — parts of liquids rarified, so as to ascend
from the earth, by means of the gravity of the rest of the
atmosphere. These vapours are wholly constituted of
small bubbles, as is now said by philosophers ; these bub
bles being lighter than the atmosphere, not because the
liquid of it, which makes the skin or wall of the bubble, is
rarer than the air, but because the air or subtile matter,
that is in the bubble, is, by the sunbeams or otherwise,
made more rare than the circumambient air : so that take
the skin of the bubble and all together, and it is lighter
than a part of the air that is round about it, of the same
dimensions. When we say that the air within the bubble.
is rarer than that without, it must be the ethereal part of
the air, or at least another part of the air that is not con
stituted of these bubbles, for that which is in all the bub
bles is not the bubbles. Now here, in the first place, it is
certain that these exhalations do constitute a part of the
atmosphere that is round about ; and, secondly, it is cer
tain that they do not wholly constitute it, as has been by
some thought ; for it is contrary to the supposition, viz.
that these bubbles are lighter than the air, and therefore
ascend in it. Than what air are these bubbles lighter ? It
is not meant that these bubbles are lighter or rarer than
these bubbles, and therefore ascend among them : so that
these are not the primary parts of the air. Yea, it is cer
tain that the matter of our atmosphere is the very same
with the ether, the same with that which is in the spaces
between the heavenly bodies ; arid that there is a certain
subtile matter in these spaces, and that it is the same with,
or at least partly constituted of, the air ; only the air is the
ether much compressed. If it has been proved that the
self-expanding quality of the air is so great, as has been.
said by the late philosophers ; for if one inch square of it,
when free and having nothing incumbent to press it toge
ther, will expand itself so much, it is certain that the whole'
atmosphere, being free, and having nothing incumbent^
will expand itself into all the solar system. And if one
inch square of air, at the distance of a semi-diameter of the
earth, will expand itself so as to fill the solar system, then
there is nothing incumbent upon the atmosphere sufficient
to hinder its free expansion : so that the matter of our air
is abroad in the heavenly spaces," &c. &c.
All the most striking peculiarities of Edwards's
mind are well exhibited in one of his very earliest
efforts : we refer to those extremely interesting
observations (made at the age of twelve years) on
the habits of a certain species of spider ; observa
tions which, at the request of his father, he trans
mitted to a naturalist in England.- Indications of
a mind of wondrous power are blended with all the
simplicity of a child, in a manner which sheds, over
this singular composition, a charm ineffable. The
observations are prefaced by an apologetical letter,
the unfeigned humility and modesty of which afford
as strong an exhibition of the chief peculiarities of

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

Edwards's moral nature, as the observations them
selves furnish of the peculiarities of his intellectual
character. Edwards's observations on external nature were
made in his youth ; in that season, during which
the solicitations of the senses are strongest, and,
of course, long before those faculties which were
afterwards destined to shed such lustre on his name
as a philosopher, came fully into play. It was
then, no doubt, that the first restless movements of
those faculties, just struggling into precocious
activity, inspired him with his deep passion for
solitude and meditation, and he might be thus oc
casionally allured to converse with nature, when
his mind wearied of the conflict, as yet unequal,
with subjects to him more congenial. In our opi
nion, he was not attracted to this species of
study by any native bias, but during his fits of so
litary musing felt his attention arrested by the ob
jects of nature, rather than voluntarily directed to
them. This may be thought fanciful, and we do
not, therefore, lay any stress on it ; nor is it ne
cessary. All we wish to show is, that the dominant
faculties of his nature (no matter how powerful his
other faculties might be) were possessed in such
superlative measure, that they necessarily subdued
all others to themselves, and swayed with despotic
power the sceptre of the soul. Certain it is, that
when they developed themselves in all their
strength, at a more advanced period of life, every
symptom of a taste for physical science vanished ;
external nature (if we may so speak) receded from
before him, and a self-created world of abstrac
tions rose within. We feel confident that if Ed
wards had attempted in after-life the pursuit of
physical science, his propensity for abstract rea
soning, his eagerness for argument and inference,
would have constantly betrayed him into unsound
philosophy ; would have induced him to reason
from a few facts instead of waiting for a more
ample induction ; to assume as fact what was not
fact at all ; in a word, to use the language of che
mistry, would have spoiled every intellectual pro
cess in the very moment of projection.
Probably there never was a man, in whom the
several elements of philosophic genius were min
gled in such harmonious proportion ; in whom, as
Sir James Mackintosh so justly observes, " the
logical and metaphysical attributes" were con
joined in such perfection " with a regard to obser-
* We fear that the observations we have just made on this
subject will hardly meet with the approbation of the " Essayist,"
to whom we have already referred. In his first note to his pre
fatory Essay to a late edition of the treatise on the " Will," he
has indicated a method of studying- the " science of mind,"
which if it does not commend itself By its soundness, can hardly
fail to amuse by its novelty. Alluding to those constitutional
infirmities which Edwards states as reasons for declining the
proffered presidency of New Jersey College, and amongst which
he enumerates, " flaccid solids ; vapid, sizy, and scarce fluids ;
and a low tide of spirits, often occasioning a kind of childish
weakness and contemptibleness of speech, presence, and de
meanour;" our Essayist says, "This description of his mental
conformation is curious physiologically, as an anatomy of a mind
so remarkable for its faculty of abstraction. May we not say that
this very poverty of constitution, this sluggishness and aridity,
this feeble pulse of life, was the very secret of his extraordinary
power of analysis* The supposition leads to speculations concern
ing the physical conditions of the mind, which must not heTe be
pursued ; but it may be remarked, in passing, that it must be from
the copious collection and right use of facts of this sort, that pro
gress will be made (if ever) in the science of mind." Here we
b 2

vation and experience of nature," as Aristotle. Yet
how often do we find him betrayed by the excess
of the ratiocinative faculties into rash conclusions
and imperfect premises ! How then could Jona
than Edwards hope to escape this error ?
Edwards therefore was wise (if such a direction
of his mind were intentional on his part) and was
fortunate (if the result of circumstances) in aban
doning the field of physical science for what was
so much more congenial, — abstract reasoning and
controversy. There is indeed one department of physical sci
ence (for it ought properly to be so called) for
which he was eminently fitted ; we mean the phi
losophy of the human mind. His faculty of
abstraction, the very organon — the instrument of
discovery in mental science, would have been, in
such a pursuit, invaluable. We have said that
mental philosophy ought to be called a section of
physical science ; this is evident, because the
process and the limits of discovery are precisely
the same as in other departments of science. We
derive a knowledge of those facts which con
stitute physical science (commonly so called) by
observation and experiment ; of those which con
stitute mental science, by consciousness and re
flection. Upon this supervenes the generalization
and classification of the facts thus ascertained ;
and this is just all we know, and all which in
our present state we can know, in either depart
ment. But though both are strictly inductive
sciences, are founded upon the same principles,
and are bounded by the same limits, it is the re
verse of true, that the same mind shall be equally
qualified to prosecute both, or that he who can
make himself a master in the one, may not be
almost wholly incapacitated for the other. In the
successful pursuit of natural philosophy, there
must be a preponderance of those faculties which
shall turn the whole energies of the mind upon
external nature ; for the successful pursuit of men
tal science, an excess of those faculties which shall
concentrate its attention upon itself, since the
materials on which it has to operate lie within. In
the one case, all the apertures of the soul, if we
may so speak, must be thrown open to the full
light of the outward world ; in the other, they
must be darkened and shaded, that the mind may
pursue in undisturbed abstraction, the analysis of
its stupendous mysteries.*
are informed, to our no little amazement, that "flaccid solids;
vapid, sizy, and scarce fluids ; and a low tide of spirits," may have
been the very secret — the Italics are our author's own-fAe very
secret of Edwards's extraordinary powers of analysis/ We ac
knowledge, indeed, that the words the very secret are exceedingly
vague; the Italics, however, show that our author intended to
lay some weighty stress on them. They afford a specimen of a
very frequent fault of our author. He often manages to shroud
his meaning in such felicitous ambiguities of language, that one
knows not whether to reject a senfence altogether because con
taining some glaring absurdity if understood according to the
more obvious import of the words, or to regard it with ignorant
veneration as probably containing some very profound truth,
if we could but get at the esoteric meaning of the author. Thus
in the instance before us, the words " very secret," though enforced
with all the emphasis ofltalics, really convey no distinct idea at all.
If our author means that " flaccid solids and vapid andsizy fluids"
were the cause of Edwards's possessing such powers of analysis,
we presume that our readers will not call upon us for a formal
refutation of any such absurdity. If he means to infer " that
flaccid solids and vapid and sizy fluids" are an inseparable con
dition of great analytical powers, no individual peculiarities,

V11I

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

We contend, then, that for this department of
physical science, the genius of Edwards (if he had
systematically directed it to this object) was pe
culiarly adapted. Many parts of his treatise on
the " Will," as well as Sect. I. Part II. of his work
on the " Religious Affections," (which displays the
hand of a master,) afford abundant proof of the
correctness of this position. It is true, indeed,
that in this as well as in every other department
of physical science, a strong propensity for ab
stract reasoning may induce a licentious indul
gence in speculation, utterly inconsistent with the
sobriety of inductive science. Since it is obvious
that if mental philosophy be a branch of inductive
science at all, almost every thing must depend on
a correct and careful collection of facts ; it- must
be equally obvious that the substitution of con
jectures for facts, or of an insufficient number of
facts for such as would alone justify generalization,
must as necessarily vitiate any theory in those
sciences which relate to mind, as any theory in those
which relate to matter. Aristotle's theory of percep
tion, and the idealism of Berkeley, are as vicious as
the Ptolemaic system or the vortices of Descartes ;
and precisely for the same reasons. Still, how
ever, the danger which this passion for deductive
reasoning entails is not so great in the prosecution
of mental science ; and for this simple reason,
that those faculties on which a talent for deductive
reasoning is founded, are more akin to the sub
jects of mental science, than to any other branch
of inductive philosophy ; are not only more fa
vourable to the successful investigation of the
facts on which this science depends, but absolutely
essential to such success. Without them it is vain
to look for those habits of severe reflection, that
intense and concentrated attention to the compli
cated and illusory phenomena of thought and
feeling, which constitute the best guarantees for a
successful cultivation of this department of philo
sophy. Here induction itself is, to such a mind, more
delightful, and is more patiently carried on, than
would have been the case in any other branch of
science. Still we cannot help considering it, on
the whole, a fortunate circumstance, that either
the tendencies of Edwards's nature, or the force of
peculiar circumstances, led him in general to those
nothing but a " copious collection," a large number of similar in
stances, would warrant even an approach to such a conclusion.
But even if such, a collection were made, we cannot see how this
would furnish what our author so oracularly pronounces that
it would — the surest, if not the only, apparatus of discovery
" in the science of mind." Surely he must have different ideas of
what the science of mind is, than are usually conveyed by those
words in the present age. We have always thought that the
science of mind professed to be an analysis and classification of
the phenomena of the mind itself, and not a discovery of the
varieties of physical structure to which particular orders of
mind may be united. The utmost that the most copious col
lection of such facts as our author speaks of could do, would be
to furnish us with a knowledge of the material e/rpressions of
mind, or, as our author himself expresses it, its physical con
ditions ;— an important and deeply interesting class of facts, to be
sure, but, in no essential manner, aiding the pursuit of the "science
of mind," in any intelligible sense of these words. If, however,
qiir author's hint should be adopted, the mental philosopher
must henceforth sit at the feet of the Lawrences and Majendies
of our day. He must be content to grope for the secrets of mind
" in flaccid solids and vapid and sizy fluids;" or repeat the
profound follies of a former age, in a diligent dissection of the
pineal gland. His employment may be characterized in the
same language which describes the ancient rites of aruspicy :

subjects in which his genius could most fully ex
patiate, free, for the most part, from the dangers
to which we have adverted. His works are either
directly controversial ; that is, occupied with an
examination of the reasonings and the detection
of the fallacies of others, a task for which his
genius was particularly adapted ; or (as we have al
ready had occasion to observe) they consistof trains
of abstract reasoning from a few comparatively sim
ple and obvious premises. But to this subject we
shall have occasion to return, when we come to
consider the criticisms which the author of the
" Natural History of Enthusiasm" has passed on
some portion of the reasonings contained in the
treatise on the " Will."
There are three distinct orders of truths ; some
(and they form immensely the larger class) con
sisting of facts derived from the senses, and which
are gathered from observation and experiment ;
some relating to the operations of mind, and these
are gained by consciousness and reflection ; while
others are elicited purely by processes of deduc
tive reasoning, from a comparison of any proposi
tions between which any mutual relations can sub
sist at all. Now, any man has a right to take any
number of such propositions, and reason by infer
ence from them; and if the purely ratiocinative pro
cess from such propositions be correct, the reasoning
will always be, at least,- hypothetically true ; that
is, if you admit the premises you must also admit
the conclusion . But if the premises be in fact true,
the argumentation will also be in fact as well as
hypothetically true. Its practical worth will
therefore be measured by the actual truth of the
premises. All that was requisite, therefore, to
enable Edwards to give full scope to his peculiar
powers, was that he should select topics in which
the propositions preliminary to reasoning should
be exceedingly few, simple, and for the most part,
obvious ; and this, we affirm, he has generally
accomplished. Thus his reasoning is seldom vi
tiated by any unsoundness in the premises ; and
as to any flaw in the logical process, let not his;
opponents hope for it. The movements of ma
chinery are hardly more unerring, than the preci
sion with which — when he has once laid down
the propositions, which constitute his premises —
he proceeds to unfold their relations.
" Inhians pectoribus, spirantia consulit exta ;"
and of such philosophers, we presume, might be said what
Cicero says of their prototypes, the augurs, that the wonder was
that they should ever meet without laughing in each other's
faces— Our author often speaks with contempt of intellectual
philosophy, and we know not therefore that we ought to be
much surprised at the paragraph on which we have just been
commenting. But if there have been those who have overrated the importance
of mental science, there are others who have fallen into an opposi te
and still more pernicious extreme, that of despising it ; and of de
spising it ignorantly. From the almost rabid fury with which our
author sometimes assails " intellectual philosophy," " abstrac
tions," " metaphysics-," and from the veryvaque and confused man
ner in which he speaks on such subjects, we should feel inclined to
think that he cannot mean by those terms what is generally
meant by them. Sure 'we are that the " modern science of mind"
deserves not such indiscriminate abuse ; that it can apply only
to the metaphysics of a past age ; to an age, in fact, when the
physical sciences (which our author idolafrizes so much) were
as visionary as its metaphysics. Both departments of science
have been purified together; though progress in the former has,
we admit, been much more rapid than in the latter.

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

That faculty in which lay the secret of Edwards's
intellectual strength — the faculty of abstraction —
was probably bestowed upon him in greater pleni
tude and perfection than to any other individual
of his species. — Nothing but this could have en
abled him to keep so steadily and so luminously
before the mind, the propositions on which his
reasoning was founded, and to call forth from the
obscurity in which they dwelt, their mutual rela
tions ; to pursue with such exactness and precision,
and such never-tiring patience, the longest, the
most subtle, and the most intricate trains of meta
physical reasoning, or to unravel with such con
summate skill the most complex and elaborate
mazes of sophistry. All who have in any measure
been accustomed to abstract reasoning, especially
upon those profound and difficult subjects which
throughout life absorbed the mind of Edwards,
must be aware of the extreme difficulty of trans
fixing before the microscopic gaze of the mind,
those volatile objects of thought, which though so
difficult to be retained, demand such intense
concentration. These subtle ideas keep shifting
and dancing before the mental vision, like the
objects in a landscape as transiently seen through
the rolling mists of an autumn morning ; now
emerging from the vapour, and glittering in the
momentary illumination of a sun-beam with an
apparent definiteness of outline, and now en
veloped again in obscurity, before the mind has
had time to descry their exact nature, and still less
their relations to one another. Quite as illusory,
quite as feebly retained by minds in general, are
those abstractions which Edwards delighted to
contemplate. So attenuated are they, and in
so thick a cloud do the imperfections and ambi
guity of language often involve them, that it fre
quently requires many hours of anxious and per
plexing meditation before the dense mist rolls
away from the mind, leaving each object of thought
revealed in the pure sunshine. — All, therefore, who
have ever been much engaged in such pursuits,
will know how to appreciate the wondrous powers
of Edwards, in the glare of whose concentrated
attention the most subtle ideas seem ever vivid
and unobscured. He appears to feel no difficulty
in compelling them to retain the same position for
any length of time, in the very focus, so to speak,
of intellectual vision. When he once sets him
self to the investigation of any subject, no disturb
ing influences can reach him from without, or
allure him from his purpose. As to the external
world, the fall of the eyelid does not more com
pletely shut out the intrusions of material ex
istences from the mind, than he can exclude the
presence of every foreign, every disturbing ob
ject, whenever he chooses to drop the curtain of his
abstraction over the soul. — No sooner does he
enter the recesses of his own mind, than the ideas
which he would make the objects of his contempla
tion gleam out, with a sort of phosphoric splendour,
on the walls of the chambers of imagery, — the
brighter for the surrounding darkness. Nay, the
perspicacity of Edwards often seems to increase with

the obscurity and subtilty of the subjects of which
he treats. We could point to many instances of
this. In this respect his organs of intellectual
vision resembled the eyesight of some classes of
animals, which though they would be dazzled into
blindness by the noon-day sun, can discern the
minutest objects in the faintest twilight. No
matter how profound those caverns of abstruse
speculation into which he ventures ; no matter
how dim the twilight which penetrates them ; in
what would be to others "middle" or "nether
darkness," his intellect seems to dilate so as to
collect every wandering ray of light, and to dis
cern plainly those objects, which to minds of in
ferior perspicacity would be absolutely invisible.
That faculty of abstraction which Edwards pos
sessed from nature in such extraordinary strength
and in such ample measure, was improved to the
utmost extent, by incessant exercise and the most
strenuous discipline. His whole life might almost
be said to be spent in one continuous effort of
reasoning; in grappling with all the most difficult
and profound subjects, which have ever engaged
the attention of the human mind. He scarcely
needed, and assuredly scarcely ever indulged in,
those intervals of relaxation, those holidays of
intellect, which, in almost every other man, are
absolutely necessary to preserve the elasticity of
the mind, to enable it to repair its exhausted
energies ; — without which, indeed, the ceaseless
prosecution of any subject demanding concentra
tion of thought, would soon goad to madness.
Such was his natural adaptation to one depart
ment of intellectual employment, and so rigidly
had he fixed this conformation of mind by habit
and discipline, that he was almost incapable of
finding pleasure in any other pursuits,— r-almost
destitute of taste or sensibility to any other species
of intellectual excellence. Profound thought be
came not only his occupation, but his delight, and
that which to other men would be severest toil,
was his pastime. Probably a severer penance
could not have been inflicted upon him, than com
pelling him to spend any very considerable portion
of his time amongst poetry and belles lettres ; he
would have absolutely nauseated them ; they
would have been like luxuries to an anchorite,
whose long years of seclusion have uprooted all
the principles of nature, and transformed his very
austerities into sources of pleasure. But not only
was Edwards endowed by nature with a mind
eminently fitted for ratiocination , and not only were
these powers incessantly exercised ; — the laudable
industry which he used to preserve and systematize
his thoughts must have tended, in an eminent
degree, to improve his natural faculties, as well as
to secure his mind from retrogression either in
knowledge or power ; nay, must have insured and
facilitated his constant progress in both. We
now allude of course to Edwards's well known
practice of always carrying writing materials with
him, and of setting down at the very moment in
which it occurred, any new train of reasoning, or
even any insulated thought, worth preserving. By

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

this means, his knowledge was rendered perma
nent ; he secured himself from the necessity, which
besets indolent or negligent men, of constantly
traversing the same ground again. Norwas this all,
he always had a fixed starting-point from which
to make further incursions into unknown realms of
speculation. Moreover such a practice must emi
nently have favoured clear and accurate habits of
thought. Not only are the particular thoughts,
thus carefully set down, rendered more distinct
and definite ; a fact so obvious and familiar that
we need not insist upon it; but the general habits
of the mind will become more severely correct, the
longer such practice is continued. Many a man
is satisfied with indistinct ideas, so long as they
only flit before his own mind, and he is not neces
sitated to give them a definite expression. But he
would be ashamed to see these indistinct ideas
embodied in corresponding obscurity of language.
As he proceeds therefore to the actual expression
of his ideas, they gradually assume a more definite
appearance; the pen, like the chisel of the sculp
tor working upon the rough outline of a statue,
gradually throws out every lineament of thought
fully and clearly. In process of time the mind
will, even without writing, think far more clearly
than before ; it will repudiate, it will loathe what
ever is not transparent both in thought and ex
pression. How happy a circumstance would it have been
for mankind, if great geniuses, who, alas ! have
generally been cursed with an indolence and
irresolution, which have most seriously detracted
from the value of their natural endowments, had
adopted Edwards's admirable plan of never trusting
that traitor, memory, or of never suffering thoughts
to escape, which, when once gone, they may
often toil in vain to recall ! — How many brilliant,
how many profound conceptions might have been
preserved, which have now perished for ever ! Nor
is this fanciful. Those who have often listened to
the conversation of genius confessedly great, will
know that it is sometimes capable, under circum
stances of peculiar excitement, of throwing out
scintillations of thought (generally from collision
with minds of a like temper with their own) which,
though inimitably beautiful, are instantly extin
guished. In the same manner, such men will tell you
that they are sometimes conscious, for a moment, of
a sudden expansion of power, for which they can
not account, and which resembles nothing so much
as the illapses of inspiration ; auspicious moments,
in which the perplexities which had long invested
some difficult subject appear suddenly cleared
away, and the mind triumphs and exults in the
free and facile exercise of its faculties. Yet this
preternatural light lasts but for a moment ; it was
a meteoric splendour which streamed athwart the
firmament of the soul, and then passed away for
ever. — If advantage be not taken of such felicitous
moments, the mind in general labours in vain to
recover what it has lost, and when it turns again,
* What an immense interval, for instance, was there between
the " Poems of a Minor," (which really deserved all the castiga-

after an interval of perhaps only a few hours, to
the subjects which but now stood revealed in so
strong a light, it finds as deep a shadow as ever
resting over the whole scene of thought ; all
wrapped in its original darkness. Such a habit as
that of Edwards's must be incalculably valuable;
he probably lost fewer thoughts of any value than
any man that ever lived, as his voluminous mis
cellanea sufficiently show ; while the practice to
which we refer wrought up to still more exquisite
perfection those superlative powers of reasoning
which nature had conferred.
We have thus spoken of the chief, the charac
teristic peculiarities of Edwards's mind ; those
which made him what he was, and without which
no other intellectual powers, which he possessed,
would ever have raised him to more than respec
tability. Probably no man ever achieved so much
reputation in those departments of intellectual
exertion to which he devoted himself, by the great
ness of a single faculty.
The irrepressible energies of that tendency to
abstract reasoning which we have represented as
Edwards's distinguishing endowment, is strongly
evinced by two circumstances. The first is, that
it gave such remarkable indications of itself in very
early life. Great genius generally affords some
types and prophecies of its future fame, even in
childhood. But though a general, this is by no
means a universal, rule. There have been men
of splendid talents, who up to a certain age, seem
oppressed with a species of torpor ; who require the
application of some strong stimulus, or the con
junction of some happy circumstances, to elicit
their real power. Such men sometimes start into
fame at once. One moment they are buried in the
chrysalis stateofobscurityand meanness; the next,
they are spreading their glittering wings to the sun,
and expatiating in another sphere of existence.*
Still these are the exceptions to the general rule.
— Genius ordinarily betrays its existence in very
early life : its irrepressible energy cannot long be
concealed ; some trifling circumstance or other is
sure to indicate, even through the thickest dis
guise, the presence of the divinity within.
Edwards manifested at a very early period both
the quality and the extraordinary strength of his
peculiar genius. This is the more remarkable,
as those faculties for which he was afterwards
distinguished are of very tardy growth, and by a
wise and beneficent arrangement of Providence,
generally tarry during the period of childhood and
youth, for the development of the subordinate in
tellectual faculties, and indeed are at these periods
so feeble as to be altogether unable to struggle
against the obtrusion of the material world and the
solicitations of the senses. Not so, however, with
Edwards : as we have already remarked, his' very
earliest productions, his philosophic efforts at
twelve years of age, display the leading traits of
his intellectual character, marked in the strongest
manner and developed in no common decree . At
tion they received,] and the "English Bards and Scotch Review
ers," the next publication of the same author ! review

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

XI

the age of fourteen, he perused or rather devoured
Locke's Essay on the Understanding, a work
which, more than any other, contributed to the
formation of his intellectual character. When
about the same age, he penned many of those mis
cellaneous observations on various philosophical
subjects, which have been happily preserved in his
descendant's memoir of him, and not a few of
which display a depth, a subtilty, a reach of in
tellect, which would have done no discredit to
men who had spent their whole lives in the pursuit
of metaphysical science, and are hardly surpassed
by any of his own subsequent efforts. In a word,
we know not the time when Edwards was not a
great reasoner.
The other circumstance, which, in our opinion,
displayed his invincible strength of mind, is, that he
achieved such wonders in defiance of all the unfa
vourable circumstances under which his powers de
veloped themselves. If they had not possessed an
elasticity which no accumulation of difficulties could
repress, we should never have heard of the name of
Jonathan Edwards. His was, indeed, a singular
destiny. Though far removed from the ancient
seats of learning, Edwards has spoken in a voice
which has echoed through the halls of European
science and philosophy, and has been listened to
with respect by their profoundest masters of wis
dom. Born in that tumultuous state of society,
in which man, having successfully struggled with
the elements, and provided in some measure for
security and subsistence, is just beginning to dream
of luxuries beyond those which terminate in sense,
but long before that auspicious era when civiliza
tion and plenty let loose the chosen minds which
heaven has consecrated to this work, to the systema
tic pursuit of philosophy and science,— Edwards
abandoned himself to a life of abstraction as un
broken as though he had lived in a far different
age. Restricted to an education which, however
favourable to the interests of virtue and religion,
could never have raised a mind, not irrepressibly vi
gorous, above mediocrity, he has managed to tread
with unexampled success some of the most ob
scure and intricate paths of abstruse speculation.
Incessantly engaged in the laborious duties of a
christian pastor, and in the benevolent drudgeries
of a missionary to barbarous tribes, he would
seem by his writings to have spent his whole time
in the seclusion of a cloister. In measuring the
strength of Edwards's genius, therefore, we are not
only to take into consideration what he has actual
ly achieved, but the circumstances which at first
sight would have appeared to render such achieve
ments impossible. We may judge of the power of
the winter's sun, whose beams struggle through a
sky of storms, by the depth and darkness of that
veil of clouds, through which, notwithstanding, it
pours its splendours.
Having thus pointed out the chief peculiarities
of Edwards's genius, those in fact to which alone
he is indebted for his fame, it is time that we
should pay some attention to the other features of
his intellectual character; and contemplate the

relations in which they stood to the higher attri
butes which held the supremacy within him. It
must be interesting to see in what way and to
what extent the former were subjugated or modi
fied by the latter.
We may safely affirm, that there never was an
instance in which the inferior faculties of intellect
were so completely held in subjection to the para
mount one of reason ; they were its mere instru
ments and ministers, scarcely employed in a single
instance independently or for their own sake, but
always with reference to an ulterior end. We
have already had occasion to observe that the
inferior faculties of Edwards's mind were such as
would never have raised him beyond respect
ability. To this, however, they would have
raised him; and if he has been supposed (a too
frequent but ill-founded observation) almost des
titute of imagination and sensibility, it is owing
not so much to the absolute as the relative infe
riority of these qualities. They appear little by
contrast; just as masses of rock of considerable
magnitude may appear mere specks beneath the
overshadowing bulk of a contiguous mountain.
Another circumstance already adverted to,
which gives an air of still greater inferiority to
some of the faculties of Edwards's mind, is the
perfect subserviency to reason in which they are
held ; if, indeed, one of them may not almost be
said to be wrought into the very substance of rea
son itself; to be incorporated with it. This ob
servation we shall illustrate hereafter.
In the diary which Edwards kept in his youth,
as well as here and there in his subsequent pro
ductions, there are passages which prove that he
was naturally endowed with no inconsiderable
measure of imagination and sensibility. The fol
lowing sentences, which were penned when only
eighteen years of age, confirm this remark. They
have been often quoted before, and are doubtless
familiar to many of our readers ; but they will
well bear another perusal. It will be observed
that we quote them not as showing the depth of
his devotional feelings at this period, (though they
do show it,) but as displaying certain peculiarities
of intellectual character, of which so faint traces
remained at a more advanced age.
" After this my sense of divine things gradually increased,
and became more and more lively, and had more of that in
ward sweetness. The appearance of every thing was altered ;
there seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or ap
pearance of divine glory, in almost every thing. God's
excellency, his wisdom, his purity and love, seemed to ap
pear in every thing; in the sun, moon, and stars; in the
clouds, and blue sky ; in the grass, flowers, trees; in the
water, and all nature ; which used greatly to fix my mind.
I often used to sit and view the moon for continuance ;
and in the day, spent much time in viewing the clouds and
sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things :
in the meantime, singing forth, with a low voice, my con
templations of the Creator and Redeemer. And scarce
any thing, among all the works of nature, was so sweet to
me as thunder and lightning ; formerly, nothing had been
so terrible to me. Before, I used to be uncommonly terri
fied with thunder, and to be struck with terror when I saw
a thunder-storm rising ; but now, on the contrary, it re
joiced me. I felt God, so to speak, at the first appearance

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

of a thunder-storm ; and used to take the opportunity, at
such times, to fix myself in order to view the clouds, and
see the lightnings play, and hear the majestic and awful
voice of God's thunder, which oftentimes was exceedingly
entertaining, leading me to sweet contemplations of my
, great and glorious God. While thus engaged, it always
seemed natural to me to sing, or chant forth my medita-
\^ tions; or, to speak my thoughts in soliloquies with a
singing voice."
" Holiness, as I then wrote down some of my contempla
tions on it, appeared to me to be of a sweet, pleasant,
charming, serene, calm nature ; which brought an inex
pressible purity, brightness, peacefulness, and ravishment
to the soul. In other words, that it made the soul like a
field or garden of Cod, with all manner of pleasant
flowers ; all pleasant, delightful, and undisturbed ; enjoy
ing a sweet calm, and the gently vivifying beams of the
sun. The soul of a true Christian, as I then wrote my
meditations, appeared like sucli a little white flower as
we see in the spring of the year ; low and humble on the
ground, opening its bosom, to receive the pleasant beams
of the sun's glory ; rejoicing, as it were, in a calm rap
ture ; diffusing around a sweet fragrancy ; standing peace
fully and lovingly, in the midst of other flowers round
about ; all in like manner opening their bosoms, to drink
in the light of the sun. There was no part of creature-
holiness, that I had so great a sense of its loveliness, as
humility, brokenness of heart, and poverty of spirit ; and
there was nothing that I so earnestly longed for. My
heart panted after this, — to lie low before God, as in the
dust; that I might be nothing, and that God might be
all, that I might become as a little child."
Such was Edwards in his youth. As the more
commanding faculties of his mind gradually deve
loped themselves, and attained the ascendancy to
which they were so evidently destined, these traits
of character (never eminently strong) gradually
faded away. After having said this, it may ap
pear little better than paradoxical, to affirm that
Edwards is constantly employing his imagination
even in his severest efforts of analytical reasoning.
Yet we think we can very easily evince the truth
of this assertion."
The fact is, that though he abounds in illustra
tions even in his most argumentative works, these
illustrations, when examined, are found to be
purely analogical arguments ; they are never ad
duced for the mere purpose of delighting the
imagination ; of insinuating important truth in
the forms of poetry; of enlivening an abstruse
subject ; or even for the more important purpose
(the purpose to which the imagination will be
chiefly applied, by a judicious writer) of aiding
the vividness of his readers' conceptions by im
pressive metaphor or simile : Edwards never
thought of such frivolity i. All his illustrations, as
we just now said, are strictly analogical argu
ments ; he supposes cases exactly parallel to the
one he happens to be arguing ; cases which must
be decided by virtually the same principles as
those which at the time he is anxjous to demo
lish or establish : these principles are then shown,
in the illustration he adopts, obviously to lead to
the alleged consequences. Many of these illustra
tions are most felicitously and ingeniously ima
gined. We would particularly instance those
which are to be found in the piece entitled, the
" Qualifications for Communion." In that work
we know,by careful inspection for this very object,
that we could engage to point out on an average

one in almost every page. And in the treatises
on " Original Sin,'" and the " Will," they are
nearly equally numerous. This method of taking
the measure of a particular faculty may appear
to some of our readers a novel one ; it must at all
events be admitted to be very decisive.
But then these illustrations are scarcely in a
single instance employed for their intrinsic
beauty; or even to secure vividness or impres
sion ; but that they may yield some direct, as well
as substantial, support to the argument. It was this
fact which imboldened us to use the expression,
that Edwards's imagination seemed to be wrought
into the very substance of reason. This latter
attribute did in truth absorb, convert into itself,
(if we may so speak,) for the sole purpose of intel
lectual strength, all the inferior parts of the mental
organization ; as in the processes of animal growth,
the softer substance is transformed into muscle and
sinew, and cartilage hardened into solid bone.
Beneath such a process, it is true, the soft and
flowing lines of intellectual beauty disappeared ;
the general structure of the mind was harsh, coarse,
and strongly marked ; but every thing bespoke
enormous strength ; — nor need we wonder that, as
the natural consequence of such a complete con
centration and discipline of the faculties to attain
one object, Edwards should have become, proba
bly, the most perfect specimen of the intellectual
athlete the world has ever seen.
In the works of Edwards, a touch of poetic
feeling, or a gleam of pure imagination, is as rare,
and strikes the reader with as much wonder, as
those faint traces of vegetation which are some
times to be seen blooming between clefts of solid
rock. Nor could we expect to see them oftener :
when flowers shall spring in a soil of granite,
then may we expect the beauties of poetry from a
mind like that of Jonathan Edwards.
Edwards could not be called a learned man in
the ordinary sense of those words. His memory
was naturally retentive and strong ; but then the
very same causes which repressed his imagination
prevented any very inordinate exercise of this
faculty also. The memory, we all know, is chiefly
valuable in the acquisition of knowledge ; for the
mere purposes of accumulation. Now this with
Edwards was a very secondary object; it is true
his knowledge was respectable, but did not amount
to a tithe of what many less gifted minds have
acquired in the same term of study. The fact is,
Edwards regulated his mental habits by the same
stern maxims of temperance by which he regulated
his diet. He never ate more than he could digest.
Some men glut themselves with knowledge so
greedily and so long that they produce a universal
plethora of intellect ; they can neither breathe, see,
nor hear as they ought to do, and become as in
capacitated for the energetic exercise of their own
powers as the man who has been starved by igno
rance. Edwards's intense passion for reasoning
prevented any such injurious indulgence : he be
longed to that order of minds who are often as
long in reading one volume as some men in

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

reading ten ; but then they pause over every page ;
will take nothing upon trust ; will dispute with
the author every doubtful position ; will pass no
part lightly over, however difficult; will never put
up with plausible sophistry : who read not to know
what other men's opinions are, but to examine how
far those opinions harmonize with universal truth.
Such men can never become learned men, as that
expression is generally understood, unless, indeed,
they were as long-lived as the patriarchs. But then
what they do learn will be well learnt ; rivetted for
ever in the memory ; always ready for use ; and
wielded by faculties thoroughly disciplined and
inured to exertion.
It would, perhaps, seem strange and almost
ludicrous to some of our readers, were we to pre
dicate wit of Jonathan Edwards ; and yet we do
not hesitate to say that there is a species of wit (or,
at all events, something which produces the same
effect as wit) of which he was no mean master.
There are occasional indications in his works that
he could have wielded sarcasm with tremendous
power ; but such was the pure love of truth and
of fair reasoning with which he was animated, such
his habitual effort to exclude from controversy
every thing that could inflame the passions, and
such the control of religious feeling and sentiment,
that this was a weapon which he very rarely used.*
The species of wit to which we refer (if it be
lawful to apply to it the term wit) consists sim
ply in the inimitable manner in which he unmasks
sophistry, and drives it forth, with all its disguises
torn off and its fallacies detected, to the ridicule
of the world. The clear detection of a sophism,
especially if that be done, as Edwards often does
it, by reductio ad absurdum, itself produces the
strongest emotion of the ludicrous. But when we
find all this done not only in the most thorough and
matchless manner, but with a certain air of quaint
and imperturbable gravity towards the victims
whom he is thus ruthlessly anatomizing, it is irre
sistible : his manner reminds one of the disguised
banter, the grave irony, for which Plato is so
famed ; or what has a still greater resemblance,
the style which Locke has adopted in his inimit
able letters to Stillingfleet. We are inclined to
think, however, that in a great majority of instances,
the gravity, seriousness, and respect which Ed
wards maintains, while so remorselessly bestrewing
his pages with the fragments of those sophisms,
which it took such pains and ingenuity to construct,
were perfectly sincere; still as they have just the
same effect as though they were feigned, the emotion
of the ludicrous awakened in the reader is equally
strong in either case, though the amount of wit in
the author would of course be by no means the
same. Some of those analogical illustrations,
which, as we before observed, Edwards brings for
ward to show the absurd consequences of a falla
cious argument, have much real wit and humour.
* There is but one indubitable instance of sarcasm which we
happen at this moment to recollect, in the whole course of his
writings. It occurs in his reply to that egregious controvertist,
Solomon Williams. Williams had unwarily charged Edwards
with having set up " men of straw," and then amusing himself

We must quote the following specimens; and these
we select, not because they are the most forcible,
but because they are of convenient length. Chubb' &
metaphysical monster, so happily described in the
treatise on the " Will," is known to all. To this
therefore it is unnecessary to refer.
Our principal extracts will be from the treatise
on " Original Sin," rather than from that on the
" Will;" the latter we imagine must be already
tolerably familiar to very many of our readers.
The following is the clear method in which he
refutes the absurd fallacy, that man's nature is not
depraved because it is presumed he does not per
form so many evil actions as good ones. Suppos
ing, for the sake of argument, this representation
correct, Edwards reasons thus :
" The question to be considered, in order to determine
whether man's nature be depraved and ruined, is not,
Whether he is inclined to perform as many good deeds as
bad ones ? But, to which of these two he preponderates,
in the frame of his heart, and the state of his nature, a
state of innocence and righteousness, and favour with God ;
or a state of sin, guiltiness, and abhorrence in the sight of
God? — Persevering sinless righteousness, or else the guilt
of sin, is the alternative, on the decision of which de
pends — according to the nature and truth of things, as
they are in themselves, and according to the rule of right,
and of perfect justice — man being approved and accepted
of his Maker, and eternally blessed as good ; or his being
rejected, and cursed as bad. And therefore the deter
mination of the tendency of man's heart and nature, with
respect to these terms, is that which is to be looked at, in
order to determine whether his nature is good or evil, pure
or coirupt, sound or ruined. If such be man's nature,
and the state of his heart, that he has an infallibly effec
tual propensity to the latter of those terms ; then it is
wholly impertinent to talk of the innocent and kind
actions, even of criminals themselves, sin-passing their
crimes in numbers, and of the prevailing innocence, good
nature, industry, felicity', and cheerfulness, of the greater
part of mankind. ' Let never so many thousands or mil
lions of acts of honesty, good nature, &c. be supposed ;
yet, by the supposition, there is an unfailing propensity to
such moral evil, as in its dreadful consequences infinitely
outweighs all effects or consequences of any supposed
good. Surely that tendency, which, in effect, is an infalli
ble tendency to eternal destruction, is an infinitely dread
ful and pernicious tendency ; and that nature and frame
of mind, which implies such a tendency, must be an infi
nitely dreadful and pernicious frame of mind. It would
be much more absurd to suppose, that such a state ot
nature is not bad, under a notion of men doing more
honest and kind things than evil ones ; than to say, the
state of that ship is good, for crossing the Atlantic ocean,
though such as cannot hold together through the voyage,
hut will infallibly founder and sink, under a notion that it
mav probably go great part of the way before it sinks, or
that it will proceed and sail above water more hours than
it will be in sinking : or, to pronounce that road a good
road to go to such a place, the greater part of which is
plain and safe, though some parts of it are dangerous, and
certainly fatal, to them that travel in it; or to call that a
good propensity, which is an inflexible inclination to travel
in such a way."
In the same manner, after having reasoned with
the utmost clearness, that as a uniformly holy con
duct is man's duty, there can be no proportion be
tween the guilt of transgression and the moral
with demolishing them. In his reply, Edwards convicts his adver
sary of having in several instances refuted himself J " Thus,"
says our author slilv, *' Mr Williams fights hard against himself.
But I will not say that, in so doing, he fights to beat down a poor
man of straw"

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

worth of obedience ; and that it must be unspeak
ably absurd to suppose that any acts of obedience
can atone for any one breach of duty, he concludes
by the following coarse but striking illustration of
his meaning.
" Therefore how absurd must it be for Christians to ob
ject, against the depravity of man's nature, a greater num
ber of innocent and kind actions, than of crimes ; and to
talk of a prevailing innocency; good nature, industry, and
cheerfulness of the greater part of mankind ! Infinitely
more absurd, than it would be to insist, that the domestic
of a prince was not a bad servant, because though some
times he contemned and affronted his master to a great
degree, yet he did not spit in his master's face so often as
he performed acts of service. More absurd, than it would
be to affirm, that his spouse was a good wife to him, be
cause, although she committed adultery, and that with the
slaves and scoundrels sometimes, yet she did not do this
so often as she did the duties of a wife. These notions
would be absurd, because the crimes are too heinous to be
atoned for, bv many honest actions of the servant or spouse
of the prince ; there being a vast disproportion between
the merit of the one, and the ill desert of the other: but
infinitelv less, than that between the demerit of our of
fences against God, and the value of our acts of obedience."
The following is one of the most felicitous in
stances of reductio ad absurdum we ever met with.
It is an exposure of the principles of his adversary
— that Adam originally possessed a moral nature
not a whit superior to that of any of his posterity ;
that our liability to death, and all our other mise
ries, are, in fact, not punishment of sin, but only
instances of God's benevolence ; merely intended
as a means of moral improvement additional to
any that our miserably happy father Adam origi
nally possessed.
" But it will follow, on our author's principles, that
Adam, while in innocency, was placed in far worse circum
stances, than he was in after his disobedience, and infinitely
worse than his posterity are in ; under unspeakably greater
disadvantages for avoiding sin, and the performance of
duty. For by this doctrine, Adam's posterity come into
the world with their hearts as free from any propensity to
sin as he, and he was made as destitute of any propensity
to righteousness as they : and yet God, in favour to them,
does great things to restrain them from sin, and excite them
to virtue, which he never did for Adam in innocency, but
laid him, in the highest degree, under contrary disad
vantages. God, as an instance of his great favour, and
fatherly love to man, since the fall, has denied him the ease
and pleasures of paradise, which gratified and allured his
senses, and bodily appetites ; that he might diminish his
temptations to sin. And as a still greater means to restrain
from sin, and promote virtue, has subjected him to labour,
toil, and sorrow in the world : and not only so, but as a
means to promote his spiritual and eternal good farbevond
this, has doomed him to death. When all this was found
insufficient, he, in further prosecution of the designs of his
love, shortened men's lives exceedingly, made them twelve
or thirteen times shorter than in the first ?.ges. And yet
this, with all the innumerable calamities which God, in
great favour to mankind, has brought on the world —
whereby their temptations are so vastly cut short, and the
inducements to virtue heaped one upon another to so great
a degree— have proved insufficient, now for so many thou
sand vears together, to restrain from wickedness in any
considerable degree ; while innocent human nature, all
along, comes into the world with the same purity and
harmless dispositions that our first parents had in paradise.
What vast disadvantages indeed then must Adam and
Eve be in, who had no more in their nature to keep them
from sin, or incline them to virtue, than their posterity,
and yet were without all those additional and extraordinary
means ! They were not only without such exceeding great

means as we now have, when our lives are made so very
short, but had vastly less advantages than their antediluvian
posterity, who to prevent their being wicked, and to make
them good, had so much labour and toil, sweat and sorrow,
briers and thorns, with a body gradually decaying and
returning to the dust. Our first parents had the extreme dis
advantage of being placed amongst many and exceeding
great temptalions-not onlv without toil or sorrow, pain or
disease, to humble and mortify them, and a sentence of death
to wean them from the world, but— in the midst of the most
exquisite and alluring sensitive delights; the reverse in
every respect, and the highest degree, of that most gracious
state of requisite means, and great advantages, which man
kind now enjoy ! If mankind now, under these vast
restraints, and great advantages, are not restrained from
<>eneral,and as it were universal, wickedness, how could it
be expected that Adam and Eve, created with no better
hearts than men bring into the world now, and destitute
of all these advantages, and in the midst of all contrary
disadvantages, should escape it ?
"These things are not agreeable to Moses s account.
That represents a happy state of peculiar favours and
blessings before the fall, and the curse coming afterwards ;
but according to this scheme, the curse was before the fall,
and the great favours and testimonies of love followed the
apostacy. And the curse before the fall must be a curse
with a witness, being to so h:gh a degree the reverse of
such means, means so necessary for such a creature as in
nocent man, and in all their multitude and fulness proving
too little. Paradise therefore must be a mere delusion !
There was indeed a great show of favour, in placing man
in the midst of such delights. But this delightful garden,
it seems, with all its beauty and sweetness, was in its real
tendency worse than the apples of Sodom. It was but a
mere bait, (God forbid the blasphemy,) the more effectually
enticing by its beauty and deliciousness, to Adam's eternal
ruin. Which might be the more expected to be fatal to
him, seeing he was the first man, having no capacity supe
rior to his posterity, and wholly without the advantage of
their observations, experiences, and improvements."
The following paragraph is a ludicrous exposure
of Dr. Taylor's preposterous evasion, that " a curse
is pronounced upon the ground, but no curse upon
the woman and the man !"
" He insists, that the ground only was cursed, and not
the man : as though a curse could terminate on lifeless,
senseless earth ! To understand this curse otherwise than
as terminating upon man through the ground, would be
as senseless as to suppose the meaning to be, The ground
shtdl be punished and shall be miserable for thy sake. Our
author interprets the curse on the ground, of its being
encumbered with noxious weeds : but would these weeds
have been any curse on the ground, if there had been no
inhabitants, or if the inhabitants had been of such a nature,
that these weeds should not have been noxious, but useful
to them? It is said, Deut. xxviii. 17. 'Cursed shall be
thy basket, and thy store :' and would he not be thought
to talk very ridiculously, who should say, 'Here is a curse
upon the basket ; but not a word of any curse upon the
owner: and therefore we have no reason at all to look
upon it as any punishment upon him, or any testimony of
God's displeasure towards him.' How plain is it, that
when lifeless things, not capable either of benefit or suffer
ing, are said to be cursed or blessed with regard to sensible
beings — who use or possess these things, or have con
nexion with them— the meaning must be, that these sensi
ble beings are cursed or blessed in the other, or with re
spect to them ! In Exod. xxiii. 25. it is said, ' He shall
bless thy bread and thy water.' ' And I suppose, never
anv body yet proceeded to such a degree of subtilty in
distinguishing, as to say, ' Here is a blessing on the bread
and the water, which went into the possessor's mouth, but
no blessing on him.'"
Dr. Taylor attempts to show that the apostle's
description (Rom. ii.) of the sad moral condition
of mankind, a description which is so evidently

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xv

intended to apply to mankind universally, only
refers to a part of mankind, or that, if any uni
versality at all be allowed, it is only of both the
two great divisions of mankind collectively, Jews
and Gentiles, but not intended to apply to every
individual. These miserable evasions Edwards
exposes in the following vein of quaint drollery.
"That this supposed sense disagrees extremely with
the terms and language which the apostle here makes use
of. For according to this, we must understand, either,
First, That the apostle means no universality at all, but
only the far greater part. But if the words which the apos
tle uses, do not most fully and determinately signify an
universality, no words ever used in the Bible are sufficient
to do it. I might challenge any man to produce any one
paragraph in the Scripture, from the beginning to the end,
where there is such a repetition and accumulation of terms,
so strongly, and emphatically, and carefully, to express the
most perfect and absolute universality ; or any place to be
compared to it. What instance is there in the Scripture,
or indeed in any other writing, when the meaning is only
the much greater part, where this meaning is signified in
such a manner, They are all, — They ui e all, — They are all
— together, — every one,— alt the world; joined to mul
tiplied negative terms, to show the universality to be with
out exception; saying, There is nofesh, — theie is none, —
there is none, — there is none, — there is none, four times over;
besides the addition of No not one, — no, not one, — once
and again 1 Or,
Secondly, If any universality at all be allowed, it is only
of the collective bodies spoken of; and these collective
bodies but two, as Dr. T. reckons them, viz. the Jewish
nation, and the Gentile world ; supposing the apostle is
here representing each of those parts of mankind as being
wicked. But is this the way of men using language, when
speaking of but two things, to express themselves in such
universal terms, when they mean no more than that the
thing affirmed is predicated of both of them ? If a man
speaking of his two feet as both lame, should say, All my
feet are lame — They are all lame — AU together are become
weak — None of my ftet are strong — None of them are.
sound — No, not one; would not he tie thought to be lame
in his understanding, as well as his feet'! W hen the apos
tle says, That evenj mimth may be stopped, must we sup
pose, that he speaks only of these two great collective
bodies, figuratively ascribing to each of them a mouth, and
means that these two mouths are stopped ? Besides, ac
cording to our author's own interpretation, the universal
terms used in these texts, cited from the Old Testament,
have no respect to those two great collective bodies, nor
indeed to either of them ; but to some in Israel, a particu
lar disaffected party in that one nation, which was made up
of wicked men. So that his interpretation is every way
absurd and inconsistent."
We shall make but one extract more. It is
an exposure of the complicated absurdities into
which Dr. Taylor's interpretation of Rom. v. leads
him. The words, " by one man's disobedience
many were made sinners ; and so death passed
upon all men, for that all have sinned," he un
derstands to mean neither more nor less than that
" by one man's disobedience many were made
subject to death ;" and as for the words, " all have
sinned," he understands, " all men became sinners,
as all mankind are brought into a state of suffer
ing." After observing on the violent criticism re
quisite to sustain such an hypothesis, Edwards
remarks :
" The case stands thus : according to his exposition, we
are said to have sinned by an active verb, as though we
had actively sinned ; yet this is not spoken truly ana pro
perly, but it is put figuratively for our becoming sinners

passively, our being made or constituted sinners. Yet
again, not that we do truly become sinners passively, or are
really made sinners, by any thing that God does ; this also
is only a figurative or tropical representation ; and the
meaninsr is only, we are condemned, and treated as if we
were sinners. Not indeed that we are properly condemned,
for God never truly condemns the innocent ; but this also
is only a figurative representation of the thing. It is but
as it were condemning ; because it is appointing to death,
a terrible evil, as //' it were a punishment. But then, in
reality, here is no appointment to a terrible evil, or any
evil at all ; but truly to a benefit, a great benefit ; and so
in representing death as a punishment, another figure is
used, and an exceeding bold one ; for, as we are ap
pointed to it, it is so far from being an evil or punishment,
that it is really a. favour, and that of the highest nature,
appointed by mere grace and love, though it seems to be a
calamity. Thus we have tropes and figures multiplied, one upon
another ; and all in that one word, sinned ; according to
the manner, as it is supposed, in which the apostle uses
it. We have a. figurative representation, not of a reality,
but of a figurative representation. Neither is this a repre
sentation of reality, but of another thing that still is but
a figurative representation of something else : yea, even
this something else is still but a figure, and one that is very
harsh and far-fetched. So thait here we have a figure to
represent a figure, even a figure of a figure, representing
some very remote figure, which most obscurely represents
the thing intended ; if the most terrible evil can indeed be
said at all to represent the contrary good of the highest kind.
And now, what cannot be made of any place of Scripture,
in such a way as this ?"
We might have cited many passages of the same
character from the treatise on " Original Sin " alone ;
and, at least, an equal number from his treatise
on the " Qualifications for Communion," and his
reply to " Solomon Williams." What we have
adduced, however, will be quite sufficient to illus
trate the remarks we have made on this feature of
Jonathan Edwards's intellectual character.
The style of Jonathan Edwards is, in general,
perhaps, the most repulsive which even metaphy
sics ever assumed ; it is not only utterly destitute
of grace and elegance, which might be natu
rally expected from a mind so constituted, but,
in many at least of his productions, has not
even those merits, which are always attainable by '
study and practice, even where there must still be
as entire an absence of all poetic grace and
beauty as the severest philosophy could wish.
The only excellence that can be predicated of
Jonathan Edwards's style, though we admit that
it is a cardinal one, is perspicuity ; yet even this
can only be predicated of it in a limited sense.
The principal conditions of perspicuity, namely,
that the words shall always stand for determinate
ideas, and shall be always used in the same sense,
are, it is true, generally complied with ; but this
is all. There are none of those qualities, which,
though not forming the great elements of per
spicuity, so powerfully aid it. Though the
words of our author always express his meaning,
they are, by no means, usually those which would
best express it. There is none of that felicitous
precision, which singles out, as by instinct, just
those only words which will exactly convey the
sentiment. Neither is there any of the pregnant
brevity, the energetic conciseness, in a word, the
compactness, of that species of mathematical

XVI

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

eloquence, (if we may use such an expression,)
which so remarkably distinguish the style of some
profound reasoners ; of men, almost as neg
ligent of the poetic beauties of style as Jonathan
Edwards. Of this class Descartes and Hobbes
are amongst the most striking exemplifications.
So far from possessing any such qualities, Ed
wards is characterized by intolerable prolixity,
by the most wearisome repetitions, by the most
unnatural inversions, and when writing on subjects
connected with practical or experimental religion,
by the most barbarous and uncouth phraseology
that can be conceived. There is one peculiarity
most unbearable about the verbiage of Edwards ;
it is not, as in most cases, a redundancy of lan
guage, but a redundancy — a constant iteration of
the same language. There is no variety, no fresh
ness about it. The same words and phrases, not
even at first distinguished by any peculiar force or
originality, are repeated usque ad nauseam.
Probably there never was a man who was charac
terized by such a wide range of intellect and such
a narrow range of language ; who was compelled
to exhibit such rich varieties of thought in such a
tediously uniform setting.
One might almost imagine, from the appa
rently studied, and as it were elaborate, neglect
of the beauties of style which he often displays,
that he was experimenting how far the vitality of
vigorous thought could sustain itself in the azote
of so detestable a style ; or under what mountain-
loads of verbiage the Typhon of a mighty intellect
could still display its invincible energies : or that
he was deliberately trying how far the maternal
affection of philosophy could induce her to over
look the hideous deformities of these the uncouth-
est of her offspring. The result, at all events, has
been most decisive of his immense powers of mind.
Without boundless elasticity and buoyancy of
thought, his works, so fearfully laden with re
dundancies of language, would long since have
sunk, " like lead, in the mighty waters" of oblivion.
It is but just to Edwards to state, that the de
formities of his style are the most glaring in his
early and posthumous works ; or when engaged
on subjects which were least related to his most
cherished employments of intellect. In pure rea
soning, more especially in his great work the
treatise on the " Will," he often approaches, and
sometimes attains, the highest excellence of style
which such a subject admits; — that nervous
compactness and brevity, which remind one of
the finest specimens of mathematical demonstra
tion. As the words employed are necessarily
few, their incessant iteration does not weary.
But his style in narrative, or on simply didactic
subjects, is truly appalling. It is tolerable only
in close argumentation ; the more subtle and pro
found the thought, the more perspicuous the style.
It is also just to Edwards to observe, that his
total negligence of style arose not in the slightest
degree from affectation, or any absurd contempt of
its excellencies. A man must have a very per
versely constituted understanding, who can indulge

in such a feeling. That same Creator who be
stowed upon us reason, also bestowed upon us
imagination, and all those qualities of mind in
which taste and sensibility originate. He has
formed us not only with a capacity for perceiving
truth, but for more readily and more vividly per
ceiving it when commended in one way than when
commended in another. That man, therefore,
who overlooks this peculiar structure of the mind ;
who does not endeavour to enlist on his side every
auxiliary of truth, and every instrument of con
viction ; who does not endeavour to clothe wis
dom " in delight," is but indifferently qualified to
be a public instructor. It is his duty to write as
impressively as he can.
It was not, as we have said, from any absurd
contempt for the beauties of style, that Edwards
so completely neglected it. It was purely because
he was so intensely absorbed in thinking, that he
cared but little for the language which he em
ployed to embody thought ! So that his reasonings
were expressed, he never asked how ; and often
forgot that he was writing for the specific purpose
of convincing others. Thus he often expresses his
thoughts with much the same slovenliness with
which a man notes them down in his common
place book, for his private use, in snatches of lan
guage, in a broken and abbreviated form.
Edwards's earliest works, as we have already
remarked, are his worst in point of style. Some
of his posthumous works match them, — but for
every defect in these he is scarcely answerable.
That he became in after-life aware of the import
ance of style, and of his own deficiencies in
this respect, is evident from an amusing anec
dote told in Sereno D wight's Memoir of him.
Richardson's " Sir Charles Grandison" happen
ing to fall into Jonathan Edwards's hand, he read
it through ; expressed himself enchanted with the
style ! ! and what is not less wonderful for one who
so strongly resembled our Puritan forefathers,
and had so much of their austerity about him,
declared his conviction, that the work was alto
gether favourable to virtue ! Suddenly smitten
with the charms of elegant composition, he re
solved (incredible presumption !) himself to cul
tivate the Graces ; and though it cannot be said
that he was eminently successful in his efforts,
yet an evident improvement in his style did incon-
testably take place. Many redundancies were
cut away, and greater compression and com
pactness attained. And, perhaps, this was all
that could be reasonably expected. It would be
quite ludicrous to expect that a mind of such
rigidity of muscle, such hardness of structure,
could be tutored, by any discipline, into grace or
flexibility Though Edwards by simple power of thought tri
umphs over all the defects of his style, and not only
redeems his pages from contempt, but commends
them to the most respectful attention of philo
sophy, who can tell how much greater he would
have appeared, or how much more extensive his
influence would have been, if he could have cloth-

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS,

ed his thoughts in language worthy of them.
Many of his works, especially the treatises on the
" Religious Affections," on " Virtue," and on
" God's chief end in the Creation," contain
thoughts, fraught with moral sublimity. What
would have been the effect, had he been able to
set these magnificent conceptions to the music of
that eloquence with which Robert Hall ravishes his
readers 1 Even his most carelessly composed ser
mons often contain thoughts full of originality,
sublimity, and grandeur ; his dullest and most
tedious pages glitter like the sands of the Pactolus,
with scattered particles of gold.
It is now time that we should offer a few re
marks on the moral and religious character of
Edwards : the one for substantial excellence, and
the other for elevated devotion, will bear compari
son with those of any man on whom the benign
genius of Christianity has ever exerted its trans
forming power.
To affirm that Edwards possessed that perfect
assemblage of excellencies which it is the object of
Christianity to form and cherish; which implies that
all the principles of our nature are stimulated into
exercise, each in its due proportion and according
to its relative importance ; that all have their
proper scope for action without trenching on the
provinces of any, while none present the vices
either of excess or defect ; would be to assert what
is not true ; for it can be asserted of no merely
human being. An approximation to this varied
and consummate excellence is all which the pre
sent state of humanity will admit. Any thing
more than this would be incompatible with our
present condition ; not to say, that in a world
like ours the same reasons exist for inequalities
of moral as of intellectual excellence, and it is
probable that in the present state of things, a
greater total of good may be effected by such an
arrangement. It is the ultimate design of Chris
tianity, however, to produce this perfect harmony
of character ; and it is its direct tendency to pro
duce it now. It will neither permit the positive
breach of any one duty, nor the neglect of any one
virtue ; no, not even in the pursuit of acknow
ledged good.
The varieties of religious and moral are as nu
merous as those of intellectual character, and for
the same reasons ; they are owing partly to diver
sities of original moral structure, partly to the
influence of those infinitely diversified circum
stances to which the soul is subjected. We are
taught by philosophy, that the glorious varieties of
tints and colours which adorn nature are all
owing to one simple cause, — the various disposi
tion of the particles of matter, by which they re
fract, in different ways, that one homogeneous light
to which all are exposed. It is even so in the
moral world. The source of all spiritual excel
lence is ever the same, — an emanation from Deity ;
but though the light from which all take their
colour be but one, the colours and hues are
manifold.

This world never saw but one character in whom
all the varieties of intellectual and moral great
ness centred ; blending in that divine and ravish
ing harmony which may be termed the music of
the soul. There never was but one who reconciled
the extremes of universal excellence ; in whom
the vastest intellect and the tenderest sensibility,
the calmest judgment and the keenest feelings,
co-existed without disturbing oneanother; in whom
magnanimity was not tinctured with pride; in
whom humility was never meanness ; whose
charity was never consumed by the fierce fire of
zeal, nor an honest zeal damped by the excess of
charity ; whose pity for the wretched never miti
gated abhorrence of vice, nor the sternest regard
for the majesty of truth diminished the most touch
ing compassion for human frailty ; in a word, in
whom greatness and lowliness, courage and forti
tude, zeal and patience, incorruptible truth and
more than human gentleness, and a thousand op
posite virtues more, were divinely attempered ;
uniting the various rays of moral excellence in
one glorious emanation of wisdom and of love.
That character was Jesus Christ, in whom dwelt,
indeed, all the fulness of the Godhead ; and whose
humanity was but a veil through which streamed,
in softened radiance, the otherwise insufferable
effulgence of Deity. Any merely human character
approximates towards perfection, just as he ap
proaches or recedes from this great example ; and
by it we may safely take the measurement and pro
portions ofany given specimen of human excellence.
Edwards did not possess that rich variety or
harmony of moral excellence which have character
ized some men of equal piety. But the excellencies
by which he was distinguished were possessed
in transcendent degree. The peculiarities of his
moral and religious character were all prominent
and strongly marked, and in these respects bore a
striking resemblance to those of his intellect; and,
as is generally the case, the former were partly
modified by the latter. One of the most impres
sive features of his moral character was the para
mount regard for duty which controlled all his
actions. When his mind was once made up to
the course he should pursue, he was distinguished
by a stern fixedness of purpose, an indomitable
resolve, which no consideration of interest, no
strength of prejudices, no allurements of ease, no
impulse of passion, could penetrate or soften. All
these fell around him, light as snow-flakes on
granite ; and produced about as much effect. In
this the qualities of his intellect and of his heart
strongly resembled one another ; he was not more
distinguished for the intensity of regard with which
he could bend all his faculties to the consideration
of the most difficult subjects of human specula
tion, and exclude every object except that upon
which, for the time, he was concentrating his pro
digious powers, than for that invincible energy of
will with which, when once convinced of the path
of duty, he persevered in maintaining it. His whole
life affords a comment on this. The following
resolutions, which, together with many others, were

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS OF

solemnly adopted before he was of age, will be
read with interest. They have often been quoted
before, but so well illustrate the decision of cha
racter of which we have been speaking, that we
cannot refrain from citing them again.
" Resolved, that I will do whatsoever I think to be most
to God's glory and my own good, profit, and pleasure, on
the whole ; without any consideration of the time, whe
ther now, or never so many myriads of ages hence ; — to
do whatever I think to be my duty, and most for the good
and advantage of mankind in general, — whatever difficulties
I meet with, how many and how great soever.
Resolved, to be continually endeavouring to find some
new contrivance to promote the fore-mentioned things.
Resolved, never to do, be, or suffer, any thing, in soul
or body, less or more, but what tends to the glory of God.
Resolved, never to lose one moment of time ; but im
prove it in the most profitable way I possibly can.
Resolved, to live with all my might, while I do live.
Resolved, never to do any thing which I should be
afraid to do if it were the last hour of my life.
Resolved, to endeavour to my utmost to act as I can
think I should do, if I had already seen the happiness of
heaven, and hell torments."
Another feature of his moral character which re
minds us of his reigning intellectual peculiarities,
and flowed from them, was the minute and scru
pulous conscientiousness with which he examined
the grounds of duty, and analysed the motives which
actuated the performance of it. With him a duty
must not only be felt to be such, but must be seen to
be such; it must be fairly and logically reasoned out.
And then the material act of virtue (as our elder
divines would call it) must not only be that to
which duty points, but a close analytical survey
must be made of all the motives which have led
to action ; and if any were found of a suspicious
character, a resolution was sure to be recorded in
his diary over-night to watch more incessantly,
and to pray more earnestly, against it. A few
brief extracts from his diary, showing the minute
ness with which he anatomized motives, and the
unwearied vigilance with which he prosecuted the
duties of self-examination, may suffice.
" Resolved, in narrations never to speak any thing but
the pure and simple verity.
Resolved, to inquire every night, as I am going to
bed, wherein I have been negligent, what sin I 'have com
mitted, and wherein I have denied myself; also at the end
of every week, month, and year.
Resolved, never to do any thing that I so much question
the lawfulness of, as that I intend, at the same time, to
consider and examine afterwards, whether it be lawful or
no : except I as much question the lawfulness of the omis
sion. Resolved, to ask myself at the end of every day, week,
month, and year, wherein I could possibly in any respect
have done better.
Resolved, never to allow the least measure of any fret
ting uneasiness at my father or mother. Resolved to suffer
no effects of it, so much as in the least alteration of speech,
or motion of my eye : and to be especially careful of it,
with respect to any of our family.
I think it best not to allow myself to laugh at the faults,
follies, and infirmities of others.
Although I have in some measure subdued a disposi
tion to chide and fret, yet I find a certain inclination
which is not agreeable to christian sweetness of temper
and conversation : — Too dogmatical, too much of egotism ;
a disposition to be telling of my own dislike and scorn ;
and freedom from those things that are innocent, or the

common infirmities of men ; and many such like things.
O that God would help me to discern all the flaws and
defects of my temper and conversation, and help me in
the difficult work of amending them ; and that he would
fill me so full of Christianity, that the foundation of all these
disagreeable irregularities may be destroyed, and the con
trary beauties may follow.
Never in the least to seek to hear sarcastical relations of
others' faults. Never to give credit to any thing said
against others, except there is very plain reason for it ; nor
to behave in any respect otherwise for it.
I think it a very good way to examine dreams every
morning when I awake ; what are the nature, circum
stances, principles, and ends of my imaginary actions and
passions in them, to discern what are my chief inclina
tions, &c.
1 observe that old men seldom have any advantaee of
new discoveries; because these are beside a way of think
ing they have been so long used to. Resolved, if ever I
live to years, that I will be impartial to hear the reasons
of all pretended discoveries, and receive them, if rational,
how long soever I have been used to another way of
thinking." His care to ascertain what duty was, and his watch
fulness over the motives which led to the perform
ance of it, were indeed as remarkable as that ada
mantine firmness of soul wi_h which he pursued
what he was convinced to be right. His was never
the virtue of merely generous impulse. To use a
strong and beautiful expression of Howe, " he
never moved till the severest reason had audited
the matter, and pronounced the occasion just and
reasonable ;" and whenever he had performed an
important duty, he descended into the very depths
of the soul, and bent the full and searching light
of his tremendous powers of analysis upon the dark
and complex machinery of motives and passions.
Are we to wonder, that beneath the influence of
such habits Edwards should have been so pre-emi
nently distinguished for self-knowledge and con
scientiousness, or that his piety and virtue should
have been in an extraordinary degree lofty and
sublime ?
Few men have ever attained a more complete
mastery over the passions than did Jonathan Ed
wards. This was partly owing to the ascendency
of his intellect; partly, and in a still greater de--
gree, to the elevation of his piety. As to the pas
sions of animal nature, a triumph over them seems to
have been comparatively easy ; they scarcely gave
him any trouble at all. For their subjugation he
was no doubt very greatly indebted to his prodigious
superiority of reason. Such was the command
ing attitude it assumed, and such the tremendous
power with which it controlled the whole man,
that insurrection on the part of these subordinates
appeared hopeless ; they dared not question its su
premacy ; they held their tenure only by doing
fealty and homage to intellect. Those other and
more dangerous, because more subtle and more
spiritual enemies, such as pride, vanity, wrath,
and envy, which lurk in the inmost recesses of our
nature, and some of which have such peculiar affi
nity for a genius like that of Edwards, yield not
to such exorcisms. Such more powerful kind of
demons go not forth but "by prayer and fast
ing:" to their complete mortification, therefore,
Edwards brought incessant watchfulness and devo-.

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

tion, and seldom assuredly have they been more
nearly expelled from the bosom of a depraved in
telligence. A more striking or more instructive proof of the
extent to which Edwards had succeeded in the
subjugation of the passions can hardly be con
ceived, than the spirit which pervades his contro
versial writings. When entering upon those sub
jects, which are of all the most exciting, and the dis
cussion of which, to the disgrace of human nature,
has called forth more malevolent feeling than the
discussion of any other, Edwards is as calm and
collected as though he was in no way interested in
the result of his speculations. The spirit of the
advocate scarcely ever appears : much of this is,
no doubt, to be attributed to the severely logical
character of his understanding. He derived the
most exquisite pleasure from the discovery and per
ception of truth ; and for the loss of truth, no suc
cess, however signal, over an inferior disputant,
would ever have consoled him. Where this is the
case, a lofty disdain of all the arts of the sophist and
the pleader will be necessarily engendered. Still,
when we reflect how subtle those passions are
which controversy inflames, how insidiously they
come into play, and how they have triumphed over
the judgments of many of the wisest and best of
men, it is evident that nothing but the strenuous
exertion of religious principle could have led to
such a complete subjugation, or rather annihi
lation, of them, as is manifested throughout his
writings. He argues like a being without affections, a pure
intelligence. No sooner does he sit down to
investigate a subject, than his passions seem as
completely hushed as though their breath had
never ruffled the soul ; its surface looks as tran
quil, as motionless, and we may add, as cold,
as a sea of ice ; and the turbulence of passion
seems as little likely to disturb the fixed calm of
the one as the winds of heaven to raise tempests
in the other.
It may perhaps be affirmed, that the chief defect
of Edwards's moral nature was, that this control of
the emotions and passions was carried somewhat
too far ; that he exercised too stern a dominion over
all the springs of action ; that the empire of reason
was a little too absolute. " The passions are not
to be rooted up," says the great John Howe,
who himself exemplified more various excel
lence, a more harmonious union of all the noblest
qualities of the intellect and of the heart, than
almost any individual of his species ; " the pas
sions are not to be rooted up, for they are of
nature's planting ; but," he continues, employing
an image sublimely appropriate, " care is to be
taken that they grow not to that enormous tallness
as to overtop a man's intellectual stature, and
cast a dark shadow over his soul !" In Jona
than Edwards they were not rooted up, yet they
scarcely attained the growth they innocently
might ; the climate was too cold and the soil too
Sterile even for these hardy plants, which, like cer
tain weeds, will generally grow where nothing else

will. There was at all events not the slightest danger
of their darkening the soul with overshadowing
luxuriance. There is, on the contrary, a coldness
of manner about Edwards, a want of susceptibility,
which are not in themselves perfections ; they arose
partly from the mere ascendency of intellect which
did not allow, nay, which tended powerfully to
check, the ardour of feeling, and partly from that
habit of austerely scrutinizing all his emotions, to
which the conjoint influence of severe reason and
religious principle alike prompted. We think the
proposition might be sustained, that vast analytic
powers, constantly exercised, will be incompatible
with a capacity for very strong emotion, or at
least will always have a tendency to diminish it.
If this observation be true in general, it is espe
cially true where the emotions themselves are the
subjects of this habitual scrutiny. The instincts
and generous impulses of nature become partially
paralyzed, and from falling so perpetually un
der the scrutiny, and often under the frown and
rebuke, of reason, exert themselves with con
straint and timidity ; or emotion is naturally
hushed almost as soon as it is awakened, by being
subjected to the frigid process of analysis and ex
amination. All this is of course only true where
such habits of mind are, as in Aristotle, Locke, or
Edwards, in constant exercise. The emotions of
Jonathan Edwards (to judge by their expression)
often seem, if we may use a somewhat fantastic
image, to have been detained so long in the ante
chamber of the soul, and to have been subjected
while there to such a rigid and suspicious ex
amination, as to be chilled by the unwelcome
reception they met with, and to be divested, upon
their tardy admission, of half their kindliness and
ardour. Hence we very rarely meet in his writings any
of that glowing sensibility, those bursts of lofty
enthusiasm, those exquisite tquches of pathos,
which are so often found in the writings of one
whose name has been already mentioned, and
who, in the attributes of reason, was scarcely in
ferior to Edwards himself: we mean John Howe.
To the same causes are to be traced the stern
gravity of deportment, the coldness and reserve,
which distinguished Edwards to a considerable
degree in private life, and appeared to impart to
him somewhat of an unsocial character.
Let us not be misunderstood. We have the
most abundant proof, that Jonathan Edwards pos
sessed, substantially, the virtues of benevolence,
charity, and kindness, in a degree seldom equalled,
perhaps never surpassed. We are merely speaking
of the manner in which these excellencies dis
played themselves ; of their signs and expressions.
In fact, all that we are attempting to show is,
that owing to the powerful causes already specified,
his virtues wanted much of that grace, softness,
and flexibility, in other words, that nature, which
are often displayed by men of far less intrinsic
worth, but who possess a warmer temperament
and more acute sensibility. Every one knows that
this is a case of no very unfrequent occurrence

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

although the result may spring from other causes.
Nothing is more common than to meet with men
who are proved to possess excellence of very high
order, but who yet manage, by certain repulsive
peculiarities of manner, to detract immensely from
the apparent beauty and value of such qualities,
and by consequence, from the sympathy of specta
tors. This peculiarity sometimes flows from one
cause, sometimes from another. — What the causes
were in Edwards's case we have endeavoured to
specify. This warmth and sensibility, this susceptibility
of strong emotion, are by no means so slight a de
fect as may sometimes be imagined ; especially in
the christian minister. None can have read the
sermons of Edwards without feeling that there is a
sad want of that pathos and feeling, which dis
courses on themes so affecting as those of the
gospel should not fail to inspire. In these quali
ties they are very deficient, and from the structure
of his mind and his habits of thought necessarily
so. We cannot, by any stretch of our imagination,
conceive it possible that Jonathan Edwards should
ever have composed some of those passages of
overwhelming tenderness which occur in the incom
parable treatise of Howe, entitled, " The Redeem
er's Tears wept over lost Souls."
There was one class of emotions, indeed, which
were indulged in most unrestrained warmth ; we
mean the religious emotions. On this point of
his character the remarks we have made do not
apply. If in any man, in him the love of God
was an all-absorbing and all-controlling affection.
Here he not only feels deeply, but always speaks
the language and indulges in the ardour of intense
affection. Here, and here alone, he glows, he kindles
into enthusiasm. Lofty intellect, so far from re
pressing this class of emotions, as, alas ! has been
the case with so many of the intellectually great,
coexisted with them in their utmost strength.
Those powerful faculties, which had discovered
so much cause for regarding every other emotion
with suspicion, and for jealously watching against
the treachery of the passions, saw that here, on the
contrary, coldness and caution might be aban
doned ; that there was in God all which not only
justified, but demanded, the most ardent affection ;
that extravagance was impossible ; and that in
this case the indulgence of feeling was as much a
dictate of reason as the repression of it would be
in others. There is, in consequence, a singular
contrast between Edwards's usual style of writ
ing, and that which he adopts in reference to
religion and to God. On these themes his sensi
bility keeps pace with his intellect ; the icy bonds
which had fettered his feelings dissolve away ; the
marble statue of abstraction starts into life; and
as he passes from the cold language of reason into
that of love and adoration, it seems as though a
seraph's ardour were all at once infused into the
cold bosom of a previously pure and passionless
intelligence. If ever there was a man who prostrated himself
in abject self-abasement before the throne of God;

who resigned himself implicitly to the Divine will ;
who was habitually ready to obey it, whatever it
might enjoin, or submit to whatever it might in
flict; that man was Jonathan Edwards. He
was indeed a man of intense and elevated piety.
Indeed so strong was his language, so impas
sioned his ardour, upon this subject, that he some
times almost approximates to the extravagance of
some of the French mystics. We hope that none
will suspect us of insinuating the thought — a
thought, the blasphemy of which is only equalled
by its absurdity — thatjt is possible to love God too
much ! But, we do think that he sometimes seems
to imagine it possible to attain a species of love to
God, which is absolutely incompatible with the
very conditions of existence. The passages to
which we more particularly allude, are to be found
in his treatise on the " Religious Affections," and
some other works : the further consideration of
them we shall reserve to another place.
Some of the moral qualities of Edwards were
possessed in such perfection, as to deserve a more
specific mention. Amongst these may be enume
rated, candour, humility, modesty, and simplicity
of character. As to the first of these, it is in
scribed on every page of his controversial works.
He neyer endeavours to evade the force of an
argument, or to attack only its most vulnerable
points ; on the contrary, he ever comes at once up
to the very breast-works of a hostile system. He
never misrepresents the sentiments he controverts ;
on the contrary, he uniformly gives them the fullest
and strongest expression of which they were capa
ble. He never resorts to the mean subterfuge of
putting forward an argument manifestly weak and
inconclusive, nor condescends to maintain an
opinion once proved to be untenable. The part he
took in the controversy on the subject of " Com
munion," is perhaps one of the most astonishing
triumphs over every kind and degree of prejudice
which any man ever gained. This perfect candour,
as has been already intimated, was partly the effect
of the purely logical character of his mind, in
spiring him with an habitual and absorbing love
of truth, and rendering him too magnanimous to
descend to the employment of any sophistry. It
was, however, still more conspicuously owing to
the stern dominion of religious principle. — We
may remark, that this transparent honesty sheds
an unspeakable charm over all his writings, and
distinguishes them, by honourable contrast, from
those of the generality of polemical writers.
The profound humility and unaffected modesty
of Edwards, formed one of the most beautiful
and striking features of his moral character, and
proved the deep influence which religion exerted
over him. In these respects, he possessed a
sublime — a melancholy superiority to most men of
vast mind. In nothing is genius, more especially
genius of a structure somewhat resembling that.
of Edwards, so wanting as in these qualities. He
had none of that insolent pride of intellect, which
too often characterizes such men. He constantly
speaks and feels like a little child. Nor is there

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

any thing approaching to affectation in all this ;
he is evidently always sincere. To use the beau
tiful language of the Essayist, to whose produc
tion we have already referred, and to which we
shall have occasion to advert again : " Edwards
contemplated a glory, an absolute excellence,
which at once checked the swellings of pride, and
sickened him of the praise which his powers might
have won from the world."
But Edwards often displays a grace beyond
even modesty ; we mean a certain artless sim
plicity of nature, which suggests the idea that he
is almost unconscious of his transcendent powers ;
which indicates, at the very moment he is achieving
such miracles of intellectual prowess, an ignorance
of his doing any thing wonderful. Modesty con
sists in a disposition not to over-estimate the good
qualities one may possess, but implies, as a necessary
condition to its exercise, a consciousness that they
are possessed. In Edwards, on the other hand, we
often find an apparent unconsciousness, or, at all
events, a transient oblivion, of the vast talents with
which he was endowed ; he appears not to dream,
that as a philosopher he would ever command the
homage of the world, or that his writings would be
regarded in relation to philosophy at all ; he simply
intended them as defences of those peculiar doc
trines to which he was so ardently attached. He
did not even cultivate philosophy so much for its
own sake, as in reference to theology. All the great
principles which he discovered, were elicited in the
discussion of religious subjects ; and all the pro
found reasonings into which he entered, were only
incidentally introduced to illustrate and confirm
his religious opinions. So much is this the case,
that in the eye of soi-disant philosophers, who can
admire his philosophy, but who despise the pur
poses to which it was applied, he must resemble
those alchymists of another age, who sometimes
stumbled on valuable truths, while engaged in
blind search after impossible discoveries.
In a word, rarely have such genius and worth,
such greatness and modesty, been united : and the
reader of his pages might say, with at least as much
truth as Atterbury said of Berkeley, " So much
understanding, * * * * *, so much innocence,
and such humility, I did not think had been the
portion of any but angels."
We shall conclude these observations, by offer
ing some criticisms on the principal works of Ed
wards. — Those of less moment we shall dismiss
with a few general observations.
The " Strict and Impartial Inquiry on the Free
dom of the Will," the most stupendous pile of
argumentation (out of the mathematics) which the
genius of man ever constructed, is that work un
doubtedly on which the fame of Edwards will
chiefly rest. This is not so much on account of
its intrinsic superiority to some of his other pro
ductions, (for it would not be difficult to show
that some of them, as specimens of reasoning, are
nearly equal to it,) but on account of the interest
attaching to the much-controverted subject of
c

which it treats, an interest which has made. it
familiar to thousands, who are totally ignorant of
the other writings of our author.
The "Inquiry" was undertaken, for the purposeof
refuting the grand doctrines of Arminianism, which,
in the age of Edwards, threatened, both in his
country and our own, the almost entire extinction
of the fundamental principles of that religious
system which he so ardently embraced. This
work is therefore to be viewed in relation to the
peculiarities of that system, and as far as Ed
wards's intention goes, to them alone. This, by
the by, is a remark applicable to all the works of
Edwards. In him every faculty and every attain
ment were consecrated to religion, and in this all
centred. The philosopher was lost in theChristian.
The " Inquiry" is divided into four parts. In
the first he gives us an ample and most perspicuous
explanation of his terms, and the senses in which
he intends uniformly to employ them. By will,
he tells us he means, " that by which the mind
chooses any thing." The faculty of the will is
that power or principle of the mind by which it is
capable of choosing : an act of the will is the same
as an act of choosing or choice.
By determining the will, he tells us, he means
the causing that the act of the will should be
thus, and not otherwise. That which uniformly
determines the will, he tells us, is " that motive
which, as it stands in the view of the mind, is the
strongest." By motive, he tells us, he means the whole of
that which moves, excites, or invites the mind to
volition, whether that be one thing singly or many
things conjunctly .
By philosophical necessity, he tells us, that he
means nothing more than the certainty of those
things of which it is predicated. In the fourth
section, he enters into a most masterly discussion
on the " distinction between natural and moral
necessity," and the meaning of certain correlatives.
In the second part he shows that Arminian no
tions of the liberty of the will are absurd, incon
sistent, and impossible. It is entitled, " Whether
there is or can be any such sort of freedom of will,
as that wherein Arminians place the essence of the
liberty of all ' moral agents ;' and whether any
such thing ever was or can be conceived of."
In the third part he demonstrates, " that no
such liberty of will as Arminians hold, is necessary
to moral agency, virtue and vice, praise and dis-
praise,"&c. In the fourth part, he considers the " chief
grounds of the reasonings of Arminians, in sup
port and defence of the forementioned notions of
liberty and moral agency, against the opposite doc
trine." The conclusion consists of an explication of the
relations, which the great principles he has endea
voured to establish hold to the whole system of
Calvinistic theology. It is far from being our in
tention to present a complete analysis of this
astonishing work. To attempt this, indeed, would
be to transcribe the whole; for though Edwards's

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

reasonings might certainly be stated with greater
simplicity and elegance, they could not be brought
into a much less compass, with a due regard to
perspicuity. That must be a rare faculty of com
pression indeed, which can translate the substance
of such a treatise into a few pages, without ren
dering its arguments unintelligible. Yet we flatter
ourselves that the main points of the controversy
may be stated, both with brevity and perspicuity.
Thus much, therefore, we shall attempt; we shall
conclude by pointing out those parts in which
the chief merit of the performance in our opinion
consists, and the extent to which the work has
been decisive of the controversy.
The train of reasoning, then, which a disciple
of Edwards would adopt, would be this : he would
maintain, (to ascend for a moment somewhat
higher in the controversy than it was necessary
for our author's object to go,) that man, like every
other sentient being, is necessarily actuated by a
love of happiness; that is, that it would be a con
tradiction to suppose that he could hate happi
ness, or that he could desire misery for its own
sake, or with a perception that it was such ; that
he is placed in circumstances in which a vast
variety of objects address themselves to this desire
of happiness, some promising to gratify it in a
higher degree, some in a lower, some appealing
to one part of his nature, some to another ; that
he cannot but be attracted to those objects and
those courses of conduct, which his reason or his
appetites, or both conjointly, assure him are
likely to gratify his desire of happiness ; that the
various degrees or kinds of real and apparent
good, promised by different objects or courses of
conduct, constitute the motives which incline him
to act in pursuance of the general desire of hap
piness which is the grand impulse of his nature,
and which it would be a contradiction to suppose
a sentient being not to possess ; that sometimes
he really sees, and sometimes he imagines he sees,
(and as regards the influence on the will, they
come to the same thing,) greater degrees of good
in some objects, or proposed courses of conduct,
than in others ; and that this constitutes prepon
derance of motive ; that the faculty by which the
mind may be thus inclined and attracted towards
several and conflicting objects or courses of con
duct, is called the will ; that to induce this
faculty to act at all, theie must always be some
motive ; that to induce it to decide between con
flicting claims, there must be preponderance of
motive, that is, a greater measure of real or ap
parent good, at the time of any particular voli
tion ; that this preponderance of motive will be
as is the character of the moral agent and the
circumstances of the objects, taken conjointly;
that this preponderance of motive will be, there
fore, not only different in different individuals,
but different in the same individual at different
times; that that which, at any particular time,
is, or appears (for as it respects this argument,
reality and appearance are one) to promise, the
greatest good, will uniformly decide the will ; ;

that this necessarily flows from the tendency of a
sentient nature to seek happiness at all, and is
indeed only a particular application of the same
general principle ; inasmuch as it would imply as
great a contradiction that a being capable of hap
piness should not take that which it deems will
confer, all things considered, a greater degree of
happiness, rather than that which will confer a
less, as it would be to imagine it not seeking hap
piness rather than the contrary, or some happi
ness rather than none ; and lastly, that this cer
tainty of connexion between the preponderance
of motive and the decisions of the will, is what is
meant by necessity, as simply implying that the
cause will as certainly produce the effect in this in
stance, as in any instance of the mutual con
nexion of cause and effect whatever.
He would further maintain, that the instances
which seem to contravene these statements are ap
parent, and not real, and that in every act of vo
lition the soul really complies with that motive
which, in the present view of the mind, is the
strongest. As when a man voluntarily does what
is unpleasant or inconvenient, — he does it to
avoid what is still more unpleasant or inconve
nient, or for the ultimate attainment of a good
worthy of such sacrifice. Or let it be supposed,
that a man commits a sin with the consciousness
that he perils eternity by it, and that the punish
ment he hazards is most immeasurably dispropor
tionate to the transient pleasure attending the
gratification of his appetites ; yet even in such,
the strongest case that can well be imagined, he
still decides upon that which in the present view
of the mind, and all things considered, appears
the most desirable ; for, in the first place, the
vehement passion by which he is for the mo
ment actuated, has magnified the desired good
a thousand-fold, so as to fill almost the whole
field of vision, and to remove other and infinitely
weightier considerations to such a distance as to
be but dimly and imperfectly seen ; and, in -the
second place, if the considerations of eternity in
trude at all, the man hopes that his everlasting
happiness may, after all, be secured without detri
ment to other gratifications, — at all events, just
for this once ; for he recollects that eternity is dis
tant, — he will have plenty of time, he flatters him
self, to 'prepare for it, — it is not probable that he
will die yet, — he intends to repent of his sin as
soon as he has committed it; — thus he fondly hopes
to combine the felicity of heaven with the gratifi
cation of present appetite ; and certainly, in the
present view of the mind, it will be better that it
should enjoy both than either alone. Thus in every
instance the mind follows the motive or motives
which in the present view of it may be the strongest^
According to the system of opinions we have
thus briefly, and we are aware most imperfectly,
endeavoured to develope, the only liberty which
man possesses, or which such a being can possess,
and which alone, Edwards contends, is necessary to
constitute him a moral agent ; is not the liberty
of willing as he will, — which may be demonstrated

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

to be an absurdity, — but of acting as he wills — a
freedom from restraint, or, as divines technically
call it, from co-action. It also follows that the
knowledge of duty, — which always implies suf
ficient real motives to induce compliance, or, in
other words, which ought to induce it, — and
liberty of action, are the great conditions of re
sponsibility. We acknowledge, indeed, that the term neces
sity, which has so generally been employed to
designate the certain connexion between the pre
ponderance of motive and the act of volition, is
the most inauspicious term which could possibly
have been selected; because, by strong and almost
inevitable association with necessity of another
kind, — the necessity between physical causes and
effects, all the ideas which are attached to the latter
application of the word, are transferred to the
former ; it is forgotten that the word is only intend
ed to designate one point of resemblance, (a very
important one we admit,) between physical causes
and effects and moral causes and effects ; not
that the two are not immeasurably diverse in other
respects. Yet this application of the word is so
natural as to be almost unavoidable. This is
proved by the fact, that the same class of words,
or phrases equivalent to them, as " cannot but be,
cannot be, unable," and their correlates, are used in
reference to the will, by those who would most
vehemently denounce the doctrines which we have
endeavoured to unfold ; as when a libertarian,
almost unconsciously, says, that this man's avarice
is so inveterate, that he cannot do a generous ac
tion, or that man is so addicted to drunkenness,
that he cannot keep sober. We suppose, however,
that all would admit that to prevent the formation
of those associations to which we have adverted,
or to destroy them where they have been once
formed, the word certainty would be a far better
term than necessity, to designate the infallible
connexion between the preponderance of motive
and the actions of the will.
Let us now take a brief survey of the principal
arguments for and against this doctrine.
It is alleged in support of it, that it coincides
with the most common and native impressions of
the vulgar, and is confirmed by every more elabo
rate attempt of the philosopher to analyse the
process of volition ; that the former will tell you
that they never dream of acting at all, without
some reasons, and that they always act from what
at the time of action appears to present the strong
est reasons ; that so far from thinking it a perfec
tion to have the power of acting without motives,
or against those which appeared at the time of
action to be the strongest, they would account it
a privilege only fit for idiots or madmen ; and that
sooner than be the sport of such a blind and ca
pricious impulse, they would be content to be the
merest machines of destiny. The philosophers
who embrace the doctrine of philosophical necessity
affirm, that the more they analyse the origin or the
nature of voluntary actions, the more deeply are
they convinced of its truth. And their reasons are
c 2

these: that so longas it is true that "every effect must
have a cause," so long it must be true that the de
terminations of the will are caused by something ;
that they in vain look for that something in the will
itself ; for, 1st, that would be supposing that this
determination, if caused at all, was the result of a
prior determination, and that of one prior still,
and so on in infinitum, which is absurd ; or, 2nd,
that at best such a determination, if caused by the
will itself, supposing such a thing conceivable,
could be only a blind impulse, utterly unworthy
of a rational creature ; nay, absolutely destructive
of virtue and vice, so long as, in harmony with
our most native instincts, virtue and vice are only
to be predicated of those voluntary actions which
flow from motives. They therefore affirm that
neither from simple consciousness nor reasoning
can they discern any other foundation for volun
tary action than motive ; and that, as it is necessary
that every such action should originate in motive,
so it appears to them absurd, and little short of a
contradiction, to affirm that it should not originate
from the preponderating motive or motives, so long
as it is true that a being who wills some happiness
rather than none, will seek a greater happiness
rather than a less.
It is also alleged, that the certain foreknowledge
of the actions of voluntary agents implies and
proves the truth of this doctrine ; for that, except
upon the supposition of its truth, such a foreknow
ledge is absolutely inconceivable, — such an attribute
only appearing possible from the certain connexion
between motives and volition ; in other words, as
events are seen in their causes. This, it is affirm
ed, enables us to understand how such a perfection
can be possessed by Deity ; a perfection, which
cannot be conceived to exist in any other way ;
for to say, that volitions are determined either
without any cause at all, fortuitously and capri
ciously, or in any way that shall imply that they
are absolutely uncertain and contingent, — to say
this, and yet to say that God certainly sees what
those volitions will be, is just as much as to affirm
that God sees that that will certainly be, which is
nevertheless uncertain, or that a thing certainly
will be, which notwithstanding may not be.
All this is alleged in support of this doctrine ;
the great, we may say the only objection, which
is urged against it, is that it obliterates the distinc
tion between virtue and vice ; leaves man nothing
to praise, nothing to blame ; renders rewards or
punishments equally ridiculous ; and (strangest
of all arguments) abolishes the whole system of
moral inducements. This, say its opponents, it
plainly does, because moral and physical necessity
are distinguishable only in name ; if our volitions
are necessary, they are necessary, and what is to
be, is to be. — Of all which hereafter.
To turn for a moment to the opposite system.
In order to escape the great difficulties we have
adverted to, Arminians, and other opponents of
moral necessity, have constructed several hypo
theses, by which they imagine they can secure to
men something more than the power of acting as

XXIV

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

they will ; that is, the power of willing as they
will. It is true they all maintain that this liberty
of theirs is a very plain and simple thing, and
boast their independence of any such profound
metaphysics as they affirm the advocates of phi
losophical necessity are compelled to take refuge
in. Yet if it be true, as we suppose it is, that di
versity of opinion about a doctrine amongst its
professed advocates is a proof that it is after all
not quite so clear as they would fain represent it,
the advocates of liberty give us abundant cause
for suspicion. While the doctrine of moral ne
cessity and the arguments which are adduced to
support it, remain the same, and have at least the
merit of being perfectly intelligible ; the theories
and modifications of theories, adopted by the ad
vocates of liberty, have been numberless. While
toiling in vain to adjust their philosophy to the
common sense of mankind, they have, as Edwards
has remarked, favoured the world with far more of
dark and elaborate metaphysical refinement than
was ever resorted to by the advocates of necessity.
That profound reasoner and most estimable
man, Dr. Clarke, affirmed, that the dictate of the
understanding is in fact the same with the deter
mination of the will, and cannot be distinguished
from 'it.* If so, it is demonstrable that the li
berty of the will which Arminians in general have
accounted necessary to constitute moral agents,
cannot be predicated of such liberty of will. Mr.
Chubb pursued this thought a step farther ; he at
tempted to combine, in one monstrous theory, those
mutually destructive elements, — the paramount
influence of the strongest motives and the abso
lute sovereignty of the will over its determinations.
He affirmed that the latter controlled the former,
and yet that the former controlled the latter ;
out of these chaotic conceptions he constructed
that metaphysical chimera — that master-piece of
contradiction! — which Edwards has so felicitously
described, and classed amongst other metaphysical
prodigies, in his treatise on the " Will." Of these
heterogeneous systems, which encumber themselves
with the difficulties of both systems without deriv
ing the advantages of either, we shall not more
particularly speak. The theory which has gene
rally been adopted by Arminians, which is itself
the most consistent, and against which Edwards
more especially directed the irresistible artillery
of his logic, is this ; that the will possesses a self-
determining power apart from, and extraneous
to, the influence of motives ; an absolute sove
reignty over its own movements. This notion
has been further refined into the liberty of indif
ference, as essential to moral agency. And, in
deed, without such liberty, the self-determining
power, as we shall presently show, can never be
enough to constitute that species of moral agency,
which Arminians have affirmed to be absolutely
necessary to equip a moral agent for the part he
has to sustain in the universe. Without such
» It is an approximation to that theory which very many of the
modern Arminians have adopted, in order to escape the absurdity
or the " self-determining power." lt is founded upon an admission
of the certain influence of motives on volition and of the connec-

liberty of indifference, the will (whatever its ab
stract self -determining power) would be already
inclined and biassed rather to one of two or more
alternatives than to another. This liberty of in
difference, therefore, this sublime consummation of
the Arminian theory, this guardian of the sacred
self-determining power, without which that power
can neither perform its high functions nor exercise
its indefeasible right of folly, supposes that the will
is absolutely indifferent as to which of two or more
alternatives, it shall adopt ; is utterly without bias
or inclination, and is equally affected to use the
language of this dark philosophy, ad utrumque !
Then, and not till then, is it in a state to exercise
its capricious despotism ; then, and then only, is it
invested with all the privileges of imperial absurd
ity. When it chooses in accidental conformity
with the principles which are supposed to consti
tute virtue and vice, though with ineffable indiffer
ence to all in which a virtuous or vicious choice
has been imagined to consist, it is then alleged to
be virtuous or vicious ! In no other way is it
conceived to be in a condition to wield its mad
prerogative. Made absolute by the dethronement of
reason, this blind judge then proceeds to deliver its
decisions of grave absurdity ; these decisions must
be, necessarily, without reasonable motives ; and
it can only be by a pure fortuity, if they be not
against them. Such is that liberty of indifference
which the generality of Arminians have repre
sented to be essential to moral agency ; and in the
manner of its exercise consists virtue or vice.
It is alleged in support of this doctrine, that we
are conscious of the power of choice in indifferent
things, that is, where either there is no motive at
all to adopt any one of several alternatives rather
than another, or where the motives are equal in
the case of each of them ; of which we shall say
something hereafter. It is also affirmed that some
such system is rendered necessary, because the
scheme of necessity, under whatever modifications,
absolutely obliterates the distinction between virtue
and vice, and subverts all the principles of moral
government. This objection forms the great and,
it may be affirmed, the only argument of any im
portance. Such are the principal arguments for the
Arminian hypothesis. So untenable is it, in our
opinion, on merely argumentative grounds, that
we are persuaded nothing but a strong conviction
of the disastrous moral consequences presumed to
flow from the necessarian system, would ever have
induced an intelligent man to adopt it. There
probably never was a reasoner of any skill in ar
gument who would not have greatly preferred on
logical grounds the system of Jonathan Edwards.
The objections against such a doctrine, it is
affirmed, are almost as numerous as the forms in
which they can be presented. It is affirmed that
if the will possess this self-determining power,
the determinations of the self-determining power
must have some reason of their existence, some
tion between the understanding and the will, which must be fatal
to any liberty that is inconsistent with moral necessity, and in
deed, conducts by an inevitable process to that doctrine '

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

cause why they are what they are rather than the
contrary or different ; that it cannot be by the su
perior influence of motive, because that supposition
would be destructive of the hypothesis, and the ad
mission of such a cause would overthrow that hy
pothesis ; that if they be caused (as is implied
if caused at all) by the will itself, then the very
act by which the will determines thus or thus, as
much requires explanation, as the act it is adduced
to explain ; that either it must be said that this act
is the result of a prior act, and this of one still
prior, and so on ad infinitum, which is absurd, or
that such determining act is absolutely uncaused,
which is also absurd ; that no idle imagination of
some ineffable and transcendental self-activity or
power of originating action, will explain this phe
nomenon of an effect without a cause ; and that
the very resort to such gratuitous and inexplicable
solutions, is a virtual abandonment of the argu
ment. It is moreover alleged, that such a self-deter
mining power cannot be exercised in any sentient
being capable of happiness ; since, by his very na
ture, he will be inclined to what will promote his
happiness, and for the very same reason, must
feel most inclined to whatever in the present view
of the mind will promote it most ; that therefore a
mere act of self-determining power, in infinitely the
most numerous and assuredly the most important,
acts of a moral agent, — all, in fact, with which this
controversy is especially concerned, is absolutely
impossible. In reference to such actions it is plain,
that a previous bias already exists ; and that the
essential conditions on which alone such a self-de
termining power can exert itself, are already vio
lated in the very constitution of our sentient nature.
An impossible liberty of indifference, absurd as
it is, is the only expedient, by which this equal
absurdity of a self-determining power can be
maintained. It is also alleged, that if this self-determining
power could be exercised, its acts could only be
acts of quintessential folly ; that they would be
the mere result of a blind and ungovernable im
pulse, — the offspring of chance and a mockery of
reason ; that it must follow, that the acts of the
will would be more perfect as they were more com
pletely exempt from the influence of motive, (which
alone is commonly supposed to stamp the charac
ter of moral actions,) and less perfect in proportion
as they were induced by such influence ; and that
the destruction of reason is the perfection of the
will. It is alleged in reference to that liberty of
indifference, which is a superfetation upon the
monster already described, not only that the
conditions necessary to it cannot be complied with,
in any sentient nature, since that nature cannot
but be biassed and inclined more to what it deems
will promote its happiness, than to what is indif
ferent to it, or will oppose it ; and that if such a
thing could exist, its acts could only be the pro
geny of chance or folly ; but that it requires in
order to constitute virtuous or vicious actions, a
state of mind which is absolutely incompatible

with either, — a state of perfect indifference ! Ac
cording to such a system, the amount of virtue
and vice diminishes as the motives to the practice
of either are strong, and increases as they are weak ;
a morally irresistible bias of motive, therefore, to
the one or the other would render either impos
sible ; while any motive at all would diminish some
what from the excellence of the one class of actions
or the turpitude of the other ; those acts alone be
ing of the nature of perfect virtue, or perfect vice,
which are performed in that glorious state of in
difference, in which the will, magnanimously re
gardless of all motives whatever, and emancipated
from the bondage of reason, plays its capricious
tricks of drunken liberty. It follows as a conse
quence from this, that a miser who has an invete
rate love of gain, is quite absolved from guilt ; and
that a sober man, who has an inveterate hatred of
drunkenness, is innocent of virtue : the one could
only be vicious by being indifferent as to whether
he made gain or not, and then resolving to make
it ; and a sober man would only be virtuous as he
felt indifferent about liquor, and then resolved to
refrain from it ; all which is very profound and
metaphysical, but totally opposed to the common
sense and most approved maxims of mankind.
They are so far from thinking that virtue and vice
increase or diminish in an inverse ratio to the force
of the motives in which moral actions originate,
and that such actions become perfect only when
the bias of motive absolutely ceases, that they hold
the very reverse ; in their opinion, moral actions
take their complexion solely from the nature of the
motives which produce them, while actions which
spring from no motive at all, even though prompted
by a self-determining power, are sufficiently dig
nified by the name of folly.
It is thus alleged, and it appears to us with
reason, that in reality this system looks with a
more malign and disastrous aspect upon the whole
theory of morals, than the one whose supposed de
fects on these very points it was constructed to
supply ; that if liberty of indifference be essential
to virtue, then, where this indifference is not felt,
virtue cannot exist, or that, at all events, an ac
tion is only virtuous so far as it flows from this
efficacious indifference ; and that so far as the in
fluence of motive is felt, in that proportion it must
detract from the value of the action ; that, accord
ingly, if there be a will uniformly inclined by an
overpowering strength of motive, in other words,
if there be such a thing at all as moral neces
sity, which Arminians tell us is exactly tantamount
to physical necessity, then, in such case, virtue and
vice altogether cease ; that, for example, the Su
preme himself is no way virtuous, for he is necessi
tated to act as he does by such a perfect and
eternal love of holiness and justice, that bonds of
adamant could not bind him more firmly ; that,
in the same manner, the volitions of the elect
angels are in no degree virtuous, nor, by parity of
reason, are the evil inclinations of devils, vicious.
Accordingly, in reference to these two last classes
of moral agents, Whitby, and other of the more

XXVI

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

consistent and thorough-paced Arminians, contend
that the actions of the former are neither virtuous
nor rewardable, nor those of the latter vicious and
punishable ; and though they dare not say that the
actions of the Divine Being are not virtuous be
cause necessitated, it is plain that such a conse
quence follows legitimately from their principles,
and that they refrain from saying so, only because
they distrust their own reasonings and feel that
they are trembling on the verge of impiety and
blasphemy. It is alleged, moreover, that such doctrines really
do — what it is pretended the opposite system does
— annihilate the force of motives, inducements,
promises, and threatenings, and render it absurd,
nay absolutely pernicious, to employ them ; ab
surd, inasmuch as that magnificent prerogative of
our nature, the self-determining power, so long as
it is really possessed at all, no more regards such
appeals than the Hellespont minded the fetters
of the Persian ; and pernicious, because if they
have any effect, in that proportion do they dimi
nish the freedom of our actions, and interfere
with the exercise of our moral agency ; that the
fewer and feebler they are, therefore, the greater
is the chance (we may use this word in the
widest latitude) of our acting virtuously, and
the more completely we strip ourselves of the
character of reasonable creatures, just in that de
gree shall we be approaching the real dignity of
our moral nature. Mankind in general hold,
however, that virtuous action derives its whole
value from motive ; that the stronger the inclina
tion, that is, the further it is thus removed from a
state of indifference, the greater the excellence of
the action if it be virtuous, the deeper its turpi
tude if it be vicious; and that if the inclination
be so strong that virtuous action is absolutely
certain to follow, (which is all that is meant by
moral necessity,) this is just the way of describ
ing consummate virtue — and not the total want
of it.
Lastly, it is alleged against this doctrine, that it
infringes on, at least, one of the Divine perfections,
and that, too, one of the most essential to him as
the Sovereign and Rulerof theuniverse, — we mean,
the attribute of foreknowledge. If the volitions
of moral agents, as we have already remarked,
be not seen in their causes — as they cannot be if
they are absolutely contingent — the Divine Being
cannot possess foreknowledge, unless it be affirmed
that that may be certainly known, which neverthe
less is uncertain, or, that to know what is not
knowable is not a contradiction ; accordingly, the
most consistent advocates of the libertarian
scheme, have denied that there is or can be such
a thing as absolute foreknowledge.
Such is a brief exposition of the two systems ;
and an abstract of the principal arguments and
objections by which they arc severally maintained
and opposed.
It will be seen from these observations, that the
great difficulty against which the system of moral
necessity has to contend, is its alleged incompati

bility with the principles of moral agency ; while
that of liberty, if the reasoning of Edwards be
correct, is not only equally inconsistent with those
principles, but labours under the additional dis
advantage of being contradictory in some points,
absurd in others, and absolutely unintelligible
where it cannot be proved to be contradictory or
absurd. If the claims in favour of each system,
therefore, are to be decided by a calculation of a
balance of difficulties, it cannot surely be very
doubtful which deserves our support. But of this
we shall presently have an opportunity of speak
ing more particularly. We must now turn our
attention for a moment to the peculiar merits of
Edwards's work, and to some logical defects which
it has lately been affirmed are to be found in it.
As to what constitutes the chief value of this treatise
there is, it appears, some difference of opinion.
Some Americans think that it consists principally
in the clear manner in which Edwards has illus
trated the distinction between natural and moral
inability; and talk as though he had not only
originated this distinction, but by its aid had as
thoroughly solved the grand moral problem which
perplexes his side of the question, as he has de
molished the sophistry of his opponents. On the
other hand, the talented author of the " Introduc
tory Essay," prefixed to the late edition of the
" Inquiry," seems to think Edwards's chief merit
consists rather in the masterly way in which he has
established the doctrine of necessity, than in any
great novelty or originality in his attempts to re
concile that doctrine with the great fact of human
accountability. We do not (for reasons which
we shall shortly assign) agree with the opinion ex
pressed by either of these parties, but we cannot
refrain from saying that the latter appears to us,
on the whole, to be much nearer the truth than
the former. We believe that Edwards's great and
superlative merit consists, first, in the triumphant
manner in which he has maintained the doctrine
of philosophical necessity ; not only urging ar
guments previously known with unrivalled force
and perspicuity, but reinforcing them with a
great variety of arguments altogether new, the
subtilty and depth of which are only matched by
their conclusiveness : and secondly, in the trium
phant manner in which he has exploded the
sophisms of the opposite theories, demonstrating
that they are chargeable with precisely the same
moral consequences, which its advocates charge
upon the doctrines he defends. The second and
third parts of the " Inquiry" are probably the
most wonderful logical efforts to which the human
mind ever gave birth.
But if we agree with the Essayist, that Edwards
lias left the controversy just where it was, as it
respects the grand difficulty of showing the con-
gruity of the doctrines of necessity and human
responsibility, it is only because we believe with
him that he has adduced nothing very new or
original on this subject ; not that we think, as the
Essayist appears to do, that what Edwards has
said is not sufficient to show tiie inadequacy

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

of the objection. We will not even affirm that
Edwards has not said all that can be said on this
subject ; we mean that what he has said, whe
ther much or little, has been anticipated. This,
indeed, could not well be otherwise, as the answer
by which the objection is met is not furnished
by reasoning, but by adducing certain facts here
after to be mentioned. Both doctrines, it ap
pears to us, are separately demonstrable, though
it may perhaps be impossible to show their con-
gruity. It is sufficient to prove that they are not
contradictory. As to any complete explanation
of the mode, in which they harmonize, it is ab
surd to expect it. It is, probably, one of those
mysteries which, it may be, are destined not only
to perplex the human intellect, but to baffle the
efforts of all created minds ; mysteries which
tend more than any thing else to rebuke the pride
of human reason, and to cherish a spirit of devout
humility. It would, we imagine, be a departure
from that modest spirit which true philosophy in
spires, to say that this great problem will never be
fully solved even in the present world ; yet no one
can enter extensively into a history of the con
troversy, without feeling that such a solution is,
at all events, eminently improbable. This, how
ever, does not hinder, but that certain facts
may be stated, which will be quite sufficient
to show that this grand objection against moral
necessity is inconclusive, and ought not, there
fore, to prevent our receiving it. These facts
Edwards has, it appears to us, stated with ad
mirable clearness and force. We are at pre
sent, however, only concerned with the com
parative originality of these views. We have
already remarked, that the American writers be
fore mentioned seem to arrogate to Edwards the
merit of having first established the distinction
between moral and natural inability ; the follow
ing passages, extracted from certain criticisms in
serted in Dwight's Memoir, justify the representa
tion we have made.
" Mr. Edwards put an end to this seeming tri
umph of those who were thus hostile to that system
of doctrines. — This he accomplished by pointing out
the difference between natural and moral necessity

and inability. * * * * Thus have they (the Calvin-
ists) illustrated the real and wide difference between
natural and moral necessity. They have proved
that this difference consists, not in the degree of
previous certainty that an action will be performed
— but in the fact, that natural necessity admits
an entire opposition of the will, while moral ne
cessity implies, and in all cases secures, the con
sent of the will. * * * Now, therefore, the Cal-
vinists find themselves placed upon high and firm
ground. They fear not the attacks of their oppo
nents ; they face them on the ground of reason as
well as of Scripture. — But all this is peculiar to
America ; except that a few European writers
have adopted from American authors the senti
ments here stated."
Upon the inveterate nationality indicated in the
last words, we shall of course say nothing ; we
shall merely remark, that the distinction between
moral and natural inability was as distinctly stated,
as luminously and as copiously illustrated, and as
clearly applied to this controversy, by Joseph Tru
man, (an English dissenting minister of the 17th
century,)in a treatise entitled, "On Moraland Na
tural Impotency," as in any part of the " Inquiry."
It was written at least sixty years before the " In
quiry" appeared. On the controversy in general
it is, of course, immeasurably inferior to the per
formance of Edwards, which as a full exposition
and defence of the necessarian, and a complete
refutation of the opposite hypothesis, is absolutely
unrivalled ; but on this particular branch of the
controversy, we do not hesitate to say that Tru
man left little to be said after him. In logical
subtilty, in power of abstraction, and in candour,
he bore no small resemblance to Edwards himself,
and indeed, in these qualities was little his inferior.
Had he been a philosopher, instead of an obscure
divine, his name would have been more widely
known in the world. For the sake of the curious
in the history of metaphysical controversy, as well
as for the purpose of confirming the remarks we
have made, we subjoin some passages from the
treatise of Truman's volume in parallel columns
with certain passages of Edwards.

TRUMAN.
" This distinction of Natural and Moral power, or Impo
tency, is not used to affirm or deny the coming or arising of
one or either of them from nature : for I am not now speak
ing de origine, whence they arise ; but to denote the
species or kinds, and the essential difference of their
Natures, come which way they will.
That is a Physical or Natural habit or action, that is neither
yl/eKT6v nor hiratvnrov, laudable nor vituperable in genere mo-
rum, that a man can neither be counted good and honest,
or bad and dishonest ; for, as agility or lameness, dulness,
blockishness, or acuteness; but may be (having such power,
and doing accordingly) admired though not praised ; and
for the defect of such power may be pittied, but not blamed
or punished: and this Impotency may be a punishment,
but cannot be a sin.
The Moral and Ethical act or habit is just contrary, It is
that which is laudable or vituperable, and that which a man
may be looked on as honest or dishonest for.
Now Natural Impotency is always, in this sense, of

EDWARDS.
" By natural Necessity, as applied to men, I mean such
Necessity as men are under through the force of natural
causes ; as distinguished from what are called moral
causes, such as habits and dispositions of the heart, and
moral motives and inducements. Thus men, placed in
certain circumstances, are the subjects of particular sensa
tions by Necessity : they feel pain when their bodies are
wounded ; they see the objects presented before them in
a clear light, when their eyes are opened : so they assent
to the truth of certain propositions, as soon as the terms
are understood ; as that two and two make four, that
black is not white, that two parallel lines can never cross
one another; so by a natural Necessity men's bodies move
downwards, when there is nothing to support them.
" Sometimes by moral Necessity is meant that Necessity
of connexion and consequence, which arises from such
moral causes, as the strength of inclination, or motives, and
the connexion which there is in many cases between these
and such certain volitions and actions. And it is in this

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

TRUMAN.
something that a man cannot do if he would never so
much ; or hath not the very faculty of willing it.
The Moral Impotency is of something that a man hath
the natural faculty to will, or can do it if he would ; but is
hindered only by moral vitious habits, from willing or
doing it.
The Stoick Philosophers use to express this difference
well, by t„ e^' wtiiv, and t_ oW hj> rj/iiV.
Every man (though he know not how to express this to
others, nor possibly clear it to himself) hath a notion of these
things differing ; and which belong to one sort, and which
to the other ; and that one is capable of a just command or
prohibition, the other not."

EDWARDS.
sense that I use the phrase, moral necessity, in the follow
ing discourse.
What has been said of natural and moral Necessity,
may serve to explain what is intended by natural and
moral Inability. We are said to be naturally unable to do
a thing, when we cannot do it if we will, because what is
most commonly called nature does not allow of it, or be
cause of some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic
to the Will ; either in the faculty of understanding, consti
tution of body, or external objects. Moral Inability con
sists not in any of these things ; but either in the want of
inclination; or the strength of a contrary inclination; or
the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and ex
cite the act of the Will, or the strength of apparent motives
to the contrary. Or both these may be resolved into one ;
and it may be said in one word, that moral Inability con
sists in the opposition or want of inclination. For when a
person is unatile to will or choose such a thing, through a
defect of motives, or prevalence of contrary motives, it is
the same tning as his being unable through the want of an
inclination, or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in
such circumstances, and under the influence of such

" This is it, Then a man hath the natural power to do
any thing, when he hath the natural faculties, and no hin-
derance but that he can do the thing if he would ; And
then he hath a Natural Impotency when he hath not these
faculties, or cannot do the thing commanded, if he would
never so much. Now I will name the Properties of it.
First ; The want of this natural power, this Natural Im
potency, doth excuse, as is commonly granted ; and they
that deny it are not consistent with themselves, but un
awares grant it. Total Natural Impotency doth excuse
before God and Man : Yea all Natural Impotency doth ex
cuse according to the measure and degree of it. Some
little Natural Impotency doth in some measure, though not
wholly ; a tanto, though not _ toto. It is some excuse if
a Servant be commanded a foot journey and go not, if
somthing-lame, so that he could not go it but with great
difficulty ; but if quite lame (could not at all) a full excuse.
If a man be hebetior, blockish, something dull, it is some
excuse for his not understanding difficulties in Religion,
which he might yet possibly, with great difficulty, under
stand ; but if quite a Fool, so as to have no more use of
Reason than a Beast, it is a total excuse from any command
to learn or understand. Without doubt a man of dull In
tellectuals, is not bound to understand such things in
Divinity, as require great acuteness of parts to understand ;
for, he cannot if he would. And doubtless a command for
a man to will his own misery formally, or to nill his own
happiness formally (which all agree, No man can do) would
not oblige ; so as that a man should be too blame in not
doing it : since a man hath not the natural faculty or power
to do such things.
If a man that is not much-inclined to it, give himself
over to sleep in times of Religious worship, it is a great
fault : If a man be very sleepy, and sleep at such a time, it
is some excuse, even so far as it arose from a natural cause ;
but yet it is a fault so far, as it was from carelessness to stir
up himself, from want of the awe of God's presence, so far
as he might if he would do otherwise ; but if it so seized on
him, that his greatest desires and endeavours could not pre
serve him from it, no fault : Need I prove this ? The very
mention seems enough.
All those Divines, consulted about it, took it for grant
ed that it was not the duty of that good man, to drink wine
in the Eucharist, that could not if he would, and that the
general command did not oblige him.
And all generally grant it as apparent, That the Heathens
(that never had, nor could obtain the Revelation of
it) shall never be condemned for not Believing Christ and
his death, because they had not the means that were na
turally necessary; And by the same Reason they must
affirm (else they must say, That is no reason, and find
some other) that thev shall not be condemned for not doing
the things they could not do, and also that we shall not be
condemned for not knowing or doing the things that we

" It is abundantly affirmed and urged by Arminian
writers, that it is contrary to common Sense, and the natural
notions and apprehensions of mankind, to suppose other
wise than that necessity (making no distinction between
natural and moral necessity) is inconsistent with Virtue
and Vice, Praise and Blame, Reward and Punishment.
And their arguments from hence have been greatly triumph
ed in ; and have been not a little perplexing to many, who
have been friendly to the truth, as clearly revealed in the
Holy Scriptures : it has seemed to them indeed difficult, to
reconcile Calvinistic doctrines with the notions men com
monly have of justice and equity. The true reasons of it
seem to be the following :
I. It is indeed a very plain dictate of common Sense,
that natural necessity ' is wholly inconsistent with just
Praise or Blame. If men do things which in themselves
are very good, fit to be brought to pass, and attended with
very happy effects, properly against their Wills ; or do them
from a necessity that is without their Wills, or with which
their Wills have no concern or connexion ; then it is a plain
dictate of common Sense, that such doings are none of
their virtue, nor have they any moral good in them ; and
that the persons are not worthy to be rewarded or praised;
or at all esteemed, honoured, or loved, on that account.
And, on the other hand, that if, from like necessity, they do
those things which in themselves are very unhappy and
pernicious, and do them because they cannot help it ; the
necessity is such, that it is all one whether they will them,
or no ; and the reason why they are done, is from necessity
only, and not from their Wills ; it is a very plain dictate
of common Sense, that they are not at all to blame ; there
is no vice, fault, or moral evil at all in the effect done ; nor
are they who are thus necessitated, in any wise worthy to
be punished, hated, or in the least disrespected, on that
account. In like manner, if things in themselves good and desir
able are absolutely impossible, with a natural impossibility,
the universal reason of mankind teaches, that this wholly
and perfectly excuses persons in their not doing them.
And' it is also a plain dictate of common Sense, that if
doing things, in themselves good, or avoiding things in
themselves evil, is not absolutely impossible, with such a
natural impossibility, but very difficult, with a natural
difficulty ; that is, a difficulty prior to, and not at all con
sisting in, Will and inclination itself, and which would re
main the same, let the inclination be what it will ; then a
person's neglect or omission is excused in some mea
sure, though not wholly; his sin is less aggravated,
than if the thing to be done were easy. And if instead
of difficulty and hinderance, there be a contrary natural
propensity in the state of things, to the thing to be done,
or effect to be brought to pass, abstracted from any con
sideration of the inclination of the heart ; though the pro
pensity be not so great as to amount to a natural necessity ;

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

XXIX

TRUMAN.
cannot know or do : else they must say, God had greater
respect for the Heathen, than for us."

" Now I come to speak of the Moral or Ethical Impo
tency. It is a thing as quite different from Natural Impo
tency as can be almost supposed, as I shall shew you.
They agree in nothing, but only in the thing that is the
reason of the Metaphor borrowed from Natural Impotency,
to express this by; which is this, That as a lame man can
not walk, a blind man see, or dead arise, without a Miracle ;
so neither can these ever Repent and Believe without some
wonderful help from Heaven, though upon another account
it cannot be done, and not because they want the Natural
power of doing it.
Moral Impotency is when a man hath the Natural
power, can do the thing, in respect of his Natural powers,
but will not ; and not only so, but cannot obtain of himself
to will it ; though yet he hath the natural power of obtain
ing this of himself, else it would be a Natural Impotency ;
as, a Fool hath not the Natural power to obtain of himself to
will a thing, hath not the right Natural use of his faculties:
So (as all agree) a man hath not the Natural power of will
ing his own misery, as his misery ; or of nilling his own
happiness : his soul is not framed capable of these things ;
and therefore these things come not within Morality ;
neither are, nor possibly can be, matter of a serious com
mander serious prohibition.
This Impotency is a rational thing, so far as that may
be called rational which is done upon reasons, but incon
siderable and slight reasons, and upon fallacious argu
ments and grounds ; and such as he doth or might know
to be fallacious, did he make due use of his reason : Else it
would be a Natural Impotency, and a man could be no
more blamed for it, than you can blame a man for his
antipathy to Cheese, that is not chosen upon any argu
ments. Now in this sense a Cannot and Will not are all
one ; they do not differ specie, in kind ; only, in degree : It
is a higher degree of volition or chusing ; you may call it
Wilfulness, Stubbornness, Obstinacy, Moral Impotency, all
these signifie the same. Deut. xxi. 18. If a man luive a
stubborn Son that will not obey the voyce of his Father, Stub
bornness is only a Will not obey, not a Cannot in the pro-
perest sense as opposed to Will not ; only a higher degree
of will not, but of the same species. In this sense are ap
parently these and such Scriptures to be understood ; Can
the blackmore change his skin ? so, He that is accustomed
to evil cannot do well. The first Cannot here is Natural,
and so without fault; he cannot change his skin if he
would never so fain, and therefore a command to change it
would not oblige : But the second is the Moral Cannot,
Gen. xxxvii. 4. Joseph's Brethren hated him, and could not
speak peaceably to him ; that is, through envy, not but that
they could if they would. Luke xi. 7. Trouble me not, my
door is shut, and my Children in bed, I cannot rise to give
thee. This cannot is a will-not upon such reasons, and is
so explained in the words-following ; Though he will not
rise ; yet because of his Importunity he will rise and give
him whatsoever he needeth. In this sense the Carnal mind
is Enmity against God, and is not subject to the Law of
God ; neither indeed can be, in this Moral sense. And
God giveth us power in this sense (observe, I do not say
only in this sense, but mostly as the chief meaning, for
somthing I -could say, but I must not intermix things

EDWARDS.
yet being some approach to it, so that the doing of the good
thing be very much from this natural tendency in the state
of things, and but little from a good inclination ; then it is
a dictate of common Sense, that there is so much the less
virtue in what is done ; and so it is less praiseworthy and
rewardable. The reason is easy, viz. because such a
natural propensity or tendency is an approach to natural
necessity ; and the greater the propensity, still so much
the nearer is the approach to necessity. And, therefore, as
natural necessity takes away or shuts out all virtue, so this
propensity approaches to an abolition of virtue ; that is, it
diminishes it. And on the other hand, natural difficulty, in
the state of things, is an approach to natural impossibility.
And as the latter, when it is complete and absolute,
wholly takes away Blame ; so such difficulty takes away
some Blame, or diminishes Blame ; and makes the thing
done to be less worthy of punishment."
" But it must be observed concerning moral Inability, in
each kind of it, that the word Inability is used in a sense
very diverse from its original import. The word signifies
only a natural Inability, in the proper use of it; and is ap
plied to such cases only wherein a present will or inclina
tion to the thing, with respect to which a person is said to
be unable, is supposable. It cannot be truly said, accord
ing to the ordinary use of language, that a malicious man,
let him be never so malicious, cannot hold his hand from
striking, or that he is not able to show his neighbour kind
ness ; or that a drunkard, let his appetite be never so strong,
cannot keep the cup from his mouth. In the strictest pro
priety of speech, a man has a thing in his power, if he has
it in his choice, or at his election : and a man cannot be
truly said to be unable to do a thing, when he can do it if
he will. It is improperly said, that a person cannot per
form those external actions, which are dependent on the act
of the Will, and which would be easily performed, if the
act of the Will were present. And if it be improperly said,
that he cannot perform those external voluntary actions,
which depend on the Will, it is in some respect more im
properly said, that he is unable to exert the acts of the Will
themselves ; because it is more evidently false, with re
spect to these, that he cannot if he will : for to say so, is a
downright contradiction ; it is to say, he cannot will, if he
does will. And in this case, not only is it true, that it is
easy for a man to do the thing if he will, but the very will
ing is the doing ; when once he has willed, the thing is
performed ; and nothing else remains to be done. There
fore, in these things, to ascribe a non-performance to the
want of power or ability, is not just ; because the thing
wanting is not a being able, but a being willing. There are
faculties of mind, and a capacity of nature, and every thing
else, sufficient, but a disposition : nothing is wanting but a

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

TRUMAN.
aliene) not by giving new faculties ; but by causing us to
will, and do of his own good pleasure."
" Now I will, according as I promised, shew you the
different properties of this Moral Impotency from Natural ;
and it is contrary in every tiling to Natural, which shews
they are contrary indeed.
First: This Moral Impotency doth not excuse from
fault, or make threatnings unjust. Nay it is also in this
contrary to Natural (which I would have you observe and
consider well, to convince you of their great difference; ;
That the Natural Impotency, the greater it is, by so much
the more it doth lessen the fault in not obeying the com
mand ; and the less it is, by so much the more it doth
greaten the fault : But the greater it is the greater is the
fault, and more blame-worthy, and further from excuse ;
and the less it is, the less faulty. For any to say, I can-
not-but hate the Minister that reproves me ; and any that
live holy lives, I cannot but wish some great fall or mis
chief to them ; for they call my sins to my remembrance,
and admonish me to leave my wicked ways ; and I am re
solved not to leave them ; I have so firmly chosen this
way, that I am resolved not to change : This is the mean
ing of [I cannot obtain of my self to leave this way] will
any say, this is not a greater fault ? If a Thief should say,
Once I was almost willing to have left my course of life ;
but now I am resolved to stick to it, notwithstanding all
Laws and dangers ; and he say true, Is he not now more
to blame than formerly, and less excuseable ? Would not
all humane Judicatures look upon that man as mad, that
should say, This doth excuse, or not aggravate his fault ?
Secondly : This Moral Impotency doth not hinder pro
mises from being of Grace. This is not to mock men, to
promise a reward, if they will do that which they have this
Moral Impotency to do. Nay such a promise is not a
jot less gracious, than if there was all readiness and will
ingness of mind in us to embrace it, by performing the
condition ; when only, chosen, wicked willfulness hinders.
He is bound nevertheless to thank him ; and, as the
Apostle saith, Mans unbelief cannot make the Faith
(meaning the Faithfulness) of God of none effect ; so our
wickedness and unthankfulness doth not make the Grace
of God cease to be Grace, and his kindness cease to be
kindness. There are many learned men, pretend with great con
fidence, that this Distinguishing is to no purpose ; and that
men are not too blame, if there be any present Impotency
at all on men to the immediate duty, be it what it will, or
call it what you will, Willingness, Wickedness, Moral Im
potency, for It will excuse, say they, as well as Natural ;
and therefore contend, that Except God by his grace give
to men, over and beside their Natural power, some kind of
equilibrium, or equal-inclination of their Will to good and
bad, they would not be too blame for disobeying the Gos
pel ; this they call a second power, and it is the same they
mean by their Preventing and Subsequent Grace, as appears
when they explain them, and they pretend that this, Grace
doth work ; and this is all that Grace doth work ; for it doth
not (say they) encline the Will any farther than by giving
it a power to encline either way. Now I greatly dislike
this Notion, and this also must either fall, or the notion of
Moral Impotency, and what hath been said of it, falls ; as
not standing in any stead, but excusing as well as the
Natural. If an Act of Oblivion be made by the Prince (when
the Rebels are in his power, and Justice saying, Shall I
smite them, shall I smite them ?) provided they will ac-
knowledg their offence in some humble manner and sub
mit ; if some, yea if all should say, and that truly, We so
hate him, notwithstanding this kindness ; and we shall be
so scoffed at by those we have made great boasts of our
resolvedness unto, and they will say, Where is that
mouth wherewith thou said'st, Who is Abimeleck ? that
we cannot through these reasons obtain of our own wilful
and proud hearts to submit ; yet it was a great favour and
kindness, as long as the condition was so easie to them,
that they had the Natural power so easily to do it. Yea,
and though they had no benefit by it, but their Condemna-

EDWARDS.

" Yea, if it be supposed, that good or evil dispositions
are implanted in the hearts of men, by nature itself, (which
it is certain, is vulgarly supposed in innumerable cases,)
yet it is not commonly supposed, that men are worthy of
no Praise or Dispraise for such dispositions ; although
what is natural, is undoubtedly necessary, nature being
prior to all acts of the Will whatsoever. Thus, for in
stance, if a man appears to be of a very haughty or
malicious disposition, and is supposed to be so by his
natural temper, it is no vulgar notion, no dictate of the
common sense and apprehension of men, that such dis
positions are no vices or moral evils, or that such persons
are not worthy of disesteem, or odium and dishonour; or
that the proud or malicious acts which flow from such
natural dispositions, are worthy of no resentment. Yea,
such vile natural dispositions, and the strength of them,
will commonly be mentioned rather as an aggravation of
the wicked acts, that come from such a fountain, than an
extenuation of them. It being natural for men to act
thus, is often observed by men in the height of their in
dignation : they will say, " It is his very nature : he is
of a vile natural temper ; it is as natural to him to act so,
as it is to breathe; he cannot help serving the devil," &c.
But it is not thus with regard to hurtful mischievous
things, that any are the subjects or occasions of, by natural
necessity, against their inclinations. In such a case, the
necessity, by the common voice of mankind, will be
spoken of as a full excuse. — Thus it is very plain, that
common sense makes a vast difference between these two
kinds of necessity, as to the judgment it makes of their
influence on the moral quality and desert of men's
actions. And these dictates are so natural and necessary, that it
may be very much doubted whether the Arminians them
selves have ever got rid of them ; yea, their greatest doc
tors, that have gone furthest in defence of their meta
physical notions of liberty, and have brought their ar
guments to their greatest strength, and as they suppose,
to a demonstration, against the consistence of virtue and
vice with any necessity : it is to be questioned, whether
there is so much as one of them, but that, if he suffered
very much from the injurious acts of a man, under the
power of an invincible haughtiness and malignancy of
temper, would not, from the forementioned natural sense
of mind, resent it far otherwise, than if as great sufferings
came upon him from the wind that blows and the fire
that burns by natural necessity ; and otherwise than he
would, if he suffered as much from the conduct of a man
perfectly delirious ; yea, though he first brought his dis
traction upon him some way by his own fault.
Some seem to disdain the distinction that we make be
tween natural and moral Necessity, as though it were alto
gether impertinent in this controversy ; " that which is
necessary, say they, is necessary ; it is that which must be,
and cannot be prevented. And that which is impossible,
is impossible, and cannot be done ; and, therefore, none
can be to blame for not doing it." And such comparisons
are made use of, as the commanding of a man to walk,
who has lost his legs, and condemning him and punishing
him for not obeying ; inviting and calling upon a man,
who is shut up in a strong prison, to come forth, &c. But
in these things Arminians are very unreasonable. Let
common sense determine whether there be not a great dif
ference between these two cases : the one, that of a man
who has offended his prince, and is cast into prison ; and
after he has lain there a while, the king comes to him, calls
him to come forth ; and tells him, that if he will do so,
and will fall down before him and humbly beg his pardon,
he shall be forgiven, and set at liberty, arid also be greatly
enriched, and advanced to honour : the prisoner heartily
repents of the folly and wickedness of his offence against
his prince, is thoroughly disposed to abase himself, and
accept of the king's offer ; but is confined by strong walls,
with gates of brass, and bars of iron. The other case is,
that of a man who is of a very unreasonable spirit, of a

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

TRUMAN.
tion was increased. So though it may truly be said of
some, It was good for them if they had never been born, and
Christ never been born, or dyed, and no Law of Grace ever
made ; yet all this hinders it not from being of Grace, while
this falling-short, was through their own wickedness."

EDWARDS.
haughty, ungrateful, wilful disposition ; and moreover, has
been brought up in traitorous principles ; and has his heart
possessed with an extreme and inveterate enmity to his
lawful sovereign ; and for his rebellion is cast into prison,
and lies long there, loaded with heavy chains, and in
miserable circumstances. At length the compassionate
prince comes to the prison, orders his chains to be knocked
off, and his prison-doors to be set wide open ; calls to
him, and tells him, if he will come forth to him, and fall
down before him, acknowledge that he has treated him
unworthily, and ask his forgiveness ; he shall be forgiven,
set at liberty, and set in a place of great dignity and profit
in his court. But he is so stout, and full of haughty
malignity, that he cannot be willing to accept the offer ;
his rooted strong pride and malice have perfect power over
him, and as it were bind him, by binding his heart : the
opposition of his heart has the mastery over him, having
an influence on his mind far superior to the king's grace
and condescension, and to all his kind offers and promises.
N ow, is it agreeable to common sense, to assert and stand
to it, that there is no difference between these two cases,
as to any worthiness of blame in the prisoners ; because,
forsooth, there is a necessity in both, and the required act
in each case is impossible ? It is true, a man's evil dis
positions may be as strong and immovable as the bars of
a castle. But who cannot see, that when a man, in the
latter case, is said to be unable to obey the command, the
expression is used improperly, and not in the sense it has
originally and in common speech '! and that it may pro
perly be said to be in the rebel's power to come out of
prison, seeing he can easily do it if he pleases ; though by
reason of his vile temper of heart, which is fixed and rooted,
it is impossible that it should please him V

These citations, our readers will agree with us,
are very curious. Some of the illustrations are
exactly alike .
If we agree, then, with the Essayist in thinking
that Edwards has left this part of the controversy
as it was, it is not because we imagine that what Ed
wards has said was really insufficient, but because,
whether sufficient or not, it had been said before.
To us, the defence of the doctrine of necessity
which Edwards, and every sound expositor of that
doctrine, have put forth against its alleged sub
version of the principles of moral government, is
sufficient. To the Essayist it appears to be far
otherwise : we say appears, because in this, as in
too many other instances, we feel that it would be
hazardous to pronounce on what is his real meaning.
Sometimes he speaks as though he fully admit
ted, in its widest latitude, all that Edwards wished
to establish, namely, the doctrine of moral neces
sity; and anon, as if repenting of his own ad
missions, he is found abusing the doctrine he had
previously admitted ; and seems as though he
would dispute it,— if he dared. '• As an able critic
on the Essayist's performance has said, " When
ever the doctrine of philosophical necessity crosses
his path, he seems hardly able to keep his tem
per."* In the presence of Edwards himself he
resembles some wayward spirit under the spell of
a magician ; he would tear the " Inquiry" to
pieces if he could ; but as often as he meets the
* It was not until after we had sketched the substance of
the remarks which we are now making on the " Prefatory Es
say," that we had the pleasure of reading an able article on it
in the second number of the Presbyterian Review ; an article, we

cold, calm glance of this Prospero, he feels all
his courage rebuked within him. He believes;
but it is that faith which " believes and trem
bles." How he can admit, indeed, that Ed
wards's reasoning is so conclusive, as he does,
if at the same time he believe that it contains
those important errors which he affirms, and
which will come hereafter under our considera
tion, is to us a mystery. With this, however, we
have nothing to do at present ; we are only
astonished, that admitting, as it would appear,
the doctrine of moral necessity, he should yet re
gard it, as would also appear, with such immi
tigable horror. No sooner does this abhorred
phantom stalk athwart his path, than he hastily
betakes himself to the most approved exorcisms,
and an Arminian himself could hardly rail at it with
more edifying vehemence. Now all this might
soon be brought to a speedy issue. If he real
ly believe that the doctrine of philosophical
necessity, (as he sometimes appears to do,) is
absolutely incompatible with human responsi
bility, then he is simply bound to reject it, for
the former cannot be more strongly established by
reasoning than the other is by other evidence.
But if he believe that the doctrine of philoso
phical necessity is not inconsistent with human
accountability, why labour to identify, or rather
confound, it with "fatalism?" Why call it " a
demon lie ?" Why describe it as " a dire mys-
believe, generally attributed to Dr. Chalmers. We are happy to
find that the strictures we have expressed on the Essayist's de
fects, are, for the most part, borne out by the sanction of such an
authority.

xxxu

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

tery ;" as " having a natural connexion with des
potism, and mysticism, and atheism, and pan
theism;" as "instructing only to baffle, and to
astound, and to sicken the reasoning faculty, and
to create a contempt of man and the universe ?"
Why be at such pains not only to slander an
innocent doctrine, but to publish his own incon
sistency in holding it? Surely the doctrine of
moral necessity, as expounded by Truman and
Edwards, is removed by an immense interval from
that " fatalism," which professes that it can dis
cern no moral difference in actions ; and ought
not to be made the subject of this vague and
vulgar declamation. If he says, he directed these
fulminations not against the doctrine of philosophi
cal necessity, but the abuses of that doctrine, we
can only say we are very glad to hear it. But if
so, the confusion of language, at any rate, is even
greater than we had apprehended ; for we are not
the only critics who have understood him to refer
to Edwards's doctrine. But there is, in truth,
throughout the whole of the Essayist's perform
ance — amidst much that is beautiful, in the way
of illustration — such a degree of vagueness and
obscurity, whenever he gets upon topics which
peculiarly demand clearness of thought and pre
cision of language, as it has very rarely been our
lot to see in a philosophical production .
WThile we frankly confess that we have never
seen any direct explanation of the manner in which
the moral necessity of actions is compatible with
human accountability, or, in other words, which
shows how these two things may be perfectly re
conciled,- it is sufficient to exhibit the inadequacy
of the objection to prove, as it assuredly can be
proved, that, even upon the admission of moral
necessity, the mind cannot divest itself of the con
viction that there is a vast difference between that
and physical necessity ; that it is not the same
thing to say that a man cannot because he will not,
and that he cannot because he cannot, though the
event in both cases may be equally certain. And
if, in fact, the mind cannot divest itself of the idea,
that there is a vast difference in the two cases,
though it cannot explain how that difference
should exist, the objection is virtually aban
doned. It is thus Arminians abandon it ; for
they admit that God is necessarily virtuous,
yet do not strip him, as they ought to do on
their principles, of all moral excellence. If this
were the only fact that lay against their objection,
it would be sufficient ; for as long as they admit
this one fact, they admit that it is possible for
actions to be necessary in the sense of moral ne
cessity, and yet not to lose their moral qualities :
and if this be the case in one agent, why not in
another? if in some classes of moral actions, why
not in all ? In other words they admit, in fact, al
though they cannot explain it, that there is not
that eternal repugnance between the two doctrines,
which they declare insures the destruction of one
or the other, and renders it impossible, without
admitting a contradiction, to hold both. It will
be seen that one instance to the contrary is as

conclusive as a thousand, since if the objection
be from the nature of the two doctrines, it must
apply in every instance : — or in none. This fact
alone, therefore, is sufficient to overthrow the ob
jection. But this is not the only fact. It may safely
be affirmed, that in ordinary life the Arminian
never thinks of applying his principles. Ar
minians admit that that liberty of the will for
which they contend, may be totally lost by long
perseverance in virtue, or long indulgence in
vice ; that in such cases the soul will no longer
resist the bias of its habitual inclinations. Now
let us suppose a case in which such a liberty
has been actually lost. Can any thing more be
necessary to prove that the Arminian really sees a
difference, in fact, between moral necessity and
physical necessity, than to show that, in ordinary
life, he never absolves a drunkard from guilt be
cause habit has so enslaved the wretch to vice,
that he has lost his liberty respecting that class of
actions ; nor withholds his praise from a virtuous
action, because he who performed it is so en
amoured of virtue as to find supreme delight
in the practice of it ; nor is, as his princi
ples undoubtedly demand, indulgent to the vice
of the former, nor detracts from the virtue of the
latter, just in proportion to the strength of incli
nation, the inveteracy of habit by which they
were borne to their respective objects. With all
the rest of mankind he would decide, that these
were the very things which constituted the degree
of moral guilt in the one, and of moral excellence
in the other. Or, to use for a moment the argu-.
mentum ad hominem, would an Arminian who
should receive some deep injury from one who
had so long indulged in a course of vice as to be
come the prey of every evil passion, — would the
Arminian deem it as absurd to blame the offender,
as to blame a madman who might inflict the same
injury ? Would he, according to his own princi
ples, think the one as entitled to compassion and
as guiltless of crime as the other, on the ground,
forsooth, that what is morally necessitated is as cer
tain as what is phy sically necessitated; or if he did
not believe that the glorious liberty of indifference
in which he finds so much mystical perfection
was quite lost, would he make excuses for the
offender in proportion to the degree in which that
liberty was disturbed and interfered with by the .
bias of vicious habits and depraved passions ? If
he really hold, that moral necessity is incompati
ble with liberty, and by parity of reasoning, that
approaches to such necessity, proportionably de-.
prive us of it ; this is the course the Arminian
ought to pursue !
And yet we may safely affirm, that. there never
was an instance of an Arminian who did not, like
every body else, think that he was perfectly right
in pronouncing men virtuous or vicious precisely
in proportion to the strength and inveteracy of
inclination and habit ; and in resenting injury, not
a whit the less in compassion to that desperate
malignity of the passions which had inflicted it.

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS

These facts are practical contradictions of the
Arminian's own principles, and practical admis
sions that the objection of the moral necessity of
our volitions being incompatible with responsi
bility, however plausible, however impossible to be
fully resolved, will not bear the test of fact and
experience, and cannot be acted on, even upon
the objector's own principles. As long as our
opponents dare not deny the volitions of Deity to
be morally excellent, though necessary ; as long
as they refuse to declare, with their absurdly con
sistent champion, Whitby, that the actions of an
gels are neither virtuous nor rewardable, nor those
of devils vicious or punishable ; as long as they
will not practically apply their principles in common
life, by subtracting from the guilt of an evil action,
and the merit of a good one, in proportion to the
strength of habit and inclination ; that is, in
either case, in proportion as the liberty of indiffer
ence has been disturbed and destroyed ; as long
as with the rest of mankind they act in a manner
the reverse of all this ; so long will they be making
so many virtual admissions, that whatever they
may say, and however plausibly they may argue,
there is a vast difference between natural and
moral inability ; that while the one excuses, the
other aggravates crime ; that while the one ex
cuses in proportion as it exists, the other aggra
vates in the same proportion ; and that the only
conditions which we conceive necessary to moral
agency, are not the imaginary liberty of indiffer
ence, an absurdity and contradiction, but the
knowledge of duty and a freedom from all phy
sical restraint or natural inability, in the per
formance of it. Where these conditions exist,
though the connexion between moral causes and
effects may be as strong and certain, as that be
tween physical causes and effects, and both bound
together by indissoluble bonds, a creature is justly
accountable for his actions ; consent of will
being that, in men's practical judgments, which is
alone necessary to constitute the moral quality of
actions. These are simple facts connected with our moral
judgments which do not admit of explanation :
they fully justify us in holding the doctrine of
moral necessity ; because they show, that how
ever unable we may be fully to reconcile the
idea of moral necessity with accountability, (and
we have admitted our inability to reconcilerthem by
, . any process of argument,) the objection from this
... is, in fact, inconclusive, since all parties admit that
there are cases in which moral necessity 'exists,
1 ' and yet will not practically deny the moral com
plexion of actions performed under its control.
'' ' But these facts (though in our view sufficient) are
''' ' all that can be stated directly to meet the diffi
culty. And if people will not be content with
such facts, there is no help for it. All that Ed-
"' -wards pretends to do, is to state them, which he
does with admirable strength and perspicuity.
These facts are probably all that we can know
aoout the matter. Nay, it is possible, that if we
were more profoundly acquainted with the neces

sary conditions of moral agency, it might even
appear absurd to ask why a knowledge of duty
and a freedom from all natural inability to the
performance of it, should be the only requisites to
constitute responsibility ? It might appear as ab
surd to attempt to demonstrate how it is, or to ask
the reason of it, as to attempt to account for any
of the ultimate facts of our physical and intellec
tual nature. Nay, more so, in some respects ; for
though it would not imply any contradiction to
suppose this latter class of facts at least other than
they are, it would be something like a contradic
tion, either to deny that a sentient being will cer
tainly choose those objects and those courses of
action, which in the present view of the mind will
tend most to its happiness, (which constitutes
moral necessity ; or to affirm that if it acts thus
voluntarily, free from all physical restraint or
compulsion, it is not to be held responsible for
actions so performed. All that is rendered ne
cessary on such an hypothesis, to constitute a
moral agent, is a knowledge of duty; which ne
cessarily presupposes the understanding to be in
possession of motives, which are in themselves
greater than any other that can be brought in
competition with them, and do in real amount
outweigh every other. Without such knowledge
of duty, there can be no responsibility ; and with
out freedom from physical restraint, there can be
no voluntary action. To give actions, then, a
moral character, it is essential that they should
be voluntarily performed in conscious compliance
with, or violation of, a rule of duty. However
difficult it may be to solve every difficulty connect
ed with the combination of such facts, there seems
to be a natural repugnance to believe the facts se
parately untrue ; and to ask why these should be
all the conditions necessary to constitute moral
agency, or why it should be the quality of volun
tary actions to imply responsibility, may, to su
perior intelligences, appear almost as absurd as
to ask why it is impossible that a thing should be
and not be at the same time, or why two and two
should make four ?
If, notwithstanding all that the necessarians
urge on this point, persons will persist that moral
necessity as much destroys moral agency, as phy
sical necessity would do, the two parties holding
this opinion, must pursue their course : the one,
adopting the necessarian hypothesis, will, with
Hobbes and fatalism, deny any moral distinction
between virtue and vice ; the other, with the Ar
minians, will attempt the construction of one or
other of those absurd and contradictory systems,
which it is the object of Edwards to confute ;
subjecting themselves, at the same time, to the
additional disadvantage of increasing the identical
difficulties which they seek to escape.
If, indeed, the objection — containing as we ac
knowledge a mystery, not perhaps explicable by
mortal intellect, could be demonstrated to be
really insurmountable ; if it could be shown not
only that we do not know any way of reconciling
the two doctrines, but that there really is none, then,

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

so long as we retain (and we can never shake off)
the instincts of our moral nature, we should be
compelled to reject the doctrine from which such
contradiction necessarily flows. Even then, how
ever, we should not be justified in adopting any
of the hypotheses which Edwards has refuted, so
long as it can be shown that they are equally op
posed to moral agency. We should simply be
reduced to the necessity of holding no opinions
whatever about the matter.
But we deny that the objection has ever been
shown to involve any thing more than a mystery,
which for any thing that has yet appeared may be
susceptible of a very sound solution. That we
cannot demonstrate the congruity of the two doc
trines we admit ; that they can be shown to be
contradictory we deny. The contradiction has
been assumed, it is true, but never proved. It is
supposed sufficient to mention it. Thus Hobbes
takes it for granted, and proceeds forthwith to
infer, that there is no essential difference between
virtue and vice ; and Whitby also assumes it, and
then proceeds to argue that there can be no such
thing as moral necessity. The declamation of
which his book is full, all goes upon this assump
tion ; all his illustrations are from cases of phy
sical necessity, as though he never imagined that
any would be so absurd as to deny the identity of
that necessity, and necessity of a totally different
kind. The fact is, that until the difficulty can be
demonstrated to be insurmountable, and to in
volve nothing short of a contradiction, it can
never be philosophical to reject one fact, which
seems to be established by the strictest evi
dence, simply because we cannot fully show its
harmony with another and totally diverse fact, at
which we arrive by evidence as strong, indeed,
but of a different kind. Philosophy commands
us to receive both unless they be shown to be
really contradictory. We gather the ideas of
moral agency, and of the essential difference be
tween virtue and vice, from consciousness ; they
are the universal sentiments of mankind, and we
cannot eradicate them even if we would : these
ideas, springing out of the very nature of volun
tary actions, still cling to us, as we have seen,
even when it is admitted that such liberty as
that for which the Arminian contends has been
lost. On the other hand, we seem to be convinced
by the clearest demonstration of the truth of the
doctrine of moral necessity. Now shall we reject
either the one or the other of these truths, merely
because we cannot fully reconcile them ? If we
might illustrate such an unphilosophical procedure
by a parallel example, we should instance the
various hypotheses which have been constructed
on the subject of that profound mystery, the inter
course between the soul and the material world.
Upon the principle that we can conjecture the
nature of substances only from their properties,
and from which we reason that substances which
possess not one property in common cannot be
the same, it seems most rational to believe that the

soul is immaterial. That there is a material
world, and that the soul holds intercourse with
it, seem facts established by the evidence of our
senses; and what shall we believe if we reject their
testimony ? To most men, therefore, it appears
reasonable to admit both the above facts ; though
to show how both are true be impossible. Now
the idealist will tell you that these two facts not
only appear incompatible, but are really so ; and
therefore, to bring all within the limits of an hy
pothesis, which shall be freed from these presumed
impossibilities, undertakes to annihilate the mate
rial universe, and presents you in its stead a
" plentiful assortment" of ideas. The materialist,
on the other hand, arguing upon the same prin
ciples, but to different conclusions, pretends to
solve the difficulty by representing thought as a
modification of matter ; and he is positive, for his
part, that except upon such an hypothesis the
soul could never hold intercourse with a world
so totally diverse from itself. In the mean time
the disciple of a more modest philosophy believes
both facts, without attempting to reduce them
within the compass of supposed rational systems, —
systems which after all leave the main difficulties
of the subject just where they were. It appears
to us that the conduct of different philosophers
has been much the same in the necessarian con
troversy. The moral necessity of our volitions
seems irrefragably proved by reasoning; the cer
tainty of our being moral agents, by facts. The
fatalist, who may be represented by the materialist
in the foregoing illustration, begs to assure you that
in holding these facts together, you are labouring
under a strange delusion ; that they are absolutely
contradictory ; and he only refrains from demon
strating them to be so, because he presumes the
position nearly self-evident ; he therefore informs
you, that holding as he is obliged to do, the former
of the two facts, he peremptorily rejects the latter.
The libertarian, on the other hand, who may be
represented by the Berkleian, admits the latter
fact, but assuming as well as the other, that the
two cannot be held together, declares that the
former is absolutely inconsistent with virtue and
vice, and nothing short of blasphemy and impiety.
The rational necessarian, continuing to hold both,
unless it shall be demonstrated, not assumed, that
they are contradictory, will neither surrender his
reason, because it seems to contravene matter of
fact ; nor matter of fact, because it seems at va
riance with the conclusions of reason.
If the opinions we have expressed are correct, it
cannot be difficult to say, to which hypothesis,
that of necessity or that of liberty, the balance of
probability inclines; or which it becomes most
reasonable to adopt. That of necessity appears
to be conclusively established by reason and con*
sciousness, but is encumbered by the apparent
difficulty of reconciling it with moral agency. So
long as this difficulty cannot be proved to be an
impossibility, it ought not to prevent our receiving
the hypothesis. The opposite system, on the other
hand, not only appears to lead us into a labyrinth

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xxxv

of perplexities and contradictions, but is moreover
apparently chargeable (and of course in our view
really so) with that very same fatal bearing on
moral agency, which it charges upon its rival. In
other words, by adopting it we really get rid of
no moral difficulty, and gratuitously burden our
selves with inextricable ones of another kind.
It is now generally admitted, that the doctrine
of necessity may be held without relaxing, in the
slightest degree, the obligations of virtue. Some
of its earliest opponents, it is true, were in the
habit of using the most unmeasured language on
this subject; language, which would not have
been justified, even if the apparent connexion
between the doctrine of necessity and the sub
version of morals had been stronger than it is, so
long as its soundest advocates denied that they
admitted any such consequences. The book of
Whitby is full of vague declamation on the horrible
consequences, which those who presume to hold
the doctrines of necessity (and those of Calvinism
generally) must admit. For one of the alleged
consequences of moral necessity, at least, that it
annuls all motives, and makes it absurd to employ
them, it may perhaps perplex the metaphysicians
of future ages to account. They will all wonder
that such an objection could ever be urged j
against a system, which is wholly built upon the ;
supposition, that the will never acts without mo
tives, and ever follows the prevailing one ! What
ever difficulties, on other grounds, may attach to the
system, the necessarian can consistently address
motives to others, since he believes thatinproportion
as they are strong, will be the probability of their
producing the desired effect ; and that if they can
reach a certain point, that event will necessarily
follow. We rejoice, however, to perceive, that the
ablest modern advocates of the opposite system
(itself very much modified) have spoken a lan
guage of fairness and candour, which do them in
finite credit. The book of Copleston, (with some
exceptions,) and the writings of Whately, are, in
these qualities at least, not unworthy of comparison
with the " Inquiry" of Edwards himself. By the
latter of these authors, particularly, it is admitted,*
that the doctrine of necessity may be explained in
a manner which will leave every active principle of
our nature unimpaired, and the whole system of
means and motives as it was before. And, indeed,
this very circumstance has been made the ground
of some very ingenious, if not powerful, objections,
against the utility of discussing the subject at
all ! It is alleged, that if it be held in the above
sense it is useless, because exerting no practical
influence on the process of volitions ; while, if it be
not held in that sense, it is of course pernicious. —
A few words on this subject. We may remark that
the Essayist is also very copious on this subject.
If it be maintained that the theory of volitions
adopted by the advocates of moral necessity is
useless, because it leaves the process of volition
practically as it was, then any attempt at any
* See particularly Whately's Essays on Paul's Epistles, pages
H4-120.

such analysis will be useless on the same account ;
if the argument be valid at all, it must be so
uniformly. Sad indeed would be the state of the
world, if any analysis of any of the processes of
mind or of the operations of external nature, could
subvert the great laws which regulate either. Such
an argument, therefore, obviously applies just as
much to the hypothesis of our opponents as to our
own ; and, indeed, has a direct tendency to prove
that any attempt to analyze a process which shall
not affect the process itself, is useless ; whereas
the fact, that it will not affect it, is the only thing
which can render it safe to attempt such analysis
at all. We quite believe, that men must will
and act in harmony with the same laws they have
ever obeyed, whether the doctrine of necessity or
that of liberty be the true one, or neither the one
nor the other. Mankind universally are content
to know that they have the power to do as they
will, however they come to will ; and so long as
they feel that they are responsible for their actions,
never ask, in ordinary life, whether the determina
tions of their wills are the result of a self-determin
ing power, or are certainly determined by motives.
Not only therefore will any hypothesis, rationally
held on this subject, have no practical effect upon
the processes of volition, but if the true one, must
necessarily have none ; it being simply, in fact,
an analysis of laws and principles in action
thousands of years before such analysis was at
tempted. We live in an universe, which, in the
whole and in its parts, is synthetical ; all whose
wondrous mechanism has come into play long-
before man's busy eye is turned upon it. He can
merely be the " interpreter of nature," to use the
beautiful language of Lord Bacon. Thus, for in
stance, Harvey's great discovery made no difference
in the circulation of the blood ; that wondrous pro
cess goes on now just as it did before, and as it ever
will. The subtle analyses of the chemist alter not
the structure or the properties of the many sub
stances, which are compelled to reveal the secrets
of their nature beneath the torture of hjs crucibles
and alembics. We agree therefore in all that the
elegant Essayist and the more logical Whately have
so powerfully said on this subject, and in all
that Bishop Butler still more admirably said before
them ; that the doctrine of moral necessity leaves
man under precisely the same laws of volition
which controlled him before any such doctrine
was propounded. But any argument from thence
against the utility of the doctrine of necessity can
be of no avail, unless it be intended to proscribe
every attempt at an analysis of the great facts of
volition, facts, which every such analysis not
abused, (which is the case supposed,) must leave
just as they were. But let us examine a little
further the alleged practical insignificance of this
doctrine. In the first place, then, we are quite confident,
that every real philosopher will gratefully receive
any true analysis of the process of volition ;
though, if true, it must necessarily leave that
process as it was. Such a process is a

xxxvi

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

rational object of curiosity and investigation, and
he will feel grateful for an analysis of it, if it be
only as an achievement of science ; equally so, in-
indeed, whichever of the many rival systems be
proved to be true.
But further, we cannot help thinking, that in
speaking of the practical inutility of this doc
trine, the Essayist has overlooked the fact, that,
though as an analysis of the process of volition, it
cannot affect that process, it may be useful, emi
nently useful, indirectly and in other ways ; just
as an analysis of any complicated process in nature,
though it cannot alter the relations of things, (as no
analysis can,) may yet be of important service to
mankind. The analysis of gold will leave that me
tal just as it was, and always will be ; butwho would
say that on that ground such an analysis must be
useless ? The resolution of light into its primary
rays cannot, it is to be hoped, alter the nature of
light itself; yet is it on that account unimportant ?
All these discoveries have originated other truths
of the most beneficial character. It seems to us
that the utility of the doctrine of moral necessity
is to be tested in the same way. If held ration
ally, if not abused, (the case now supposed,) it
will, as its opponents affirm, be practically use
less, as respects the process of volition itself ; just
as will be the case with every true analysis of that
process ; but are there no other, and totally di
verse, respects, in which it may be useful ? Does
it relieve us from no difficulties respecting the
divine fore-knowledge, and an universal provi
dence ? Does it throw no light upon certain dark,
and to us otherwise inexplicable, passages of Scrip
ture ? In this latter respect we cannot help re
garding Edwards's work somewhat in the same
light with Butler's Analogy. It appears to us
in reading it, that we are made acquainted with
another series of analogies between the disclosures
of inspiration and the actual constitution of the
world ; and those expressions in Scripture which
the infidel had charged upon it as breathing the
dark spirit of fatalism, only demonstrate, that in
this, as in other instances, the Divine Author has
spoken from what he knew to be our nature, and
has thus necessarily anticipated the discoveries of
philosophy. Again, can the doctrine of moral necessity ex
ert no beneficial influence on our piety ? Upon the
supposition that it has no practical effect on our
conduct towards one another, (the case supposed,)
it by no means follows that it shall affect in no way
our sentiments towards the Supreme. On the
contrary, it seems to us far better calculated to
cherish humility, to subdue pride, to bring us
more immediately into contact with God, to teach
us more effectually our dependence on him, than
the opposite doctrine. This remark, indeed,
applies to all the peculiarities of Calvinism ; if
abused, they will lead to more awful and terrible
perversions of the gospel, than any other system ;
but if not abused, if (the case still supposed) they
leave us to the same ordinary rules of action as
before, they are, we sincerely believe, calculated

to produce the most ardent and elevated piety, by
bringing the soul into more constant communion
with God and with eternal verities, than the oppo
site opinions. In all these respects, then, the doc
trine of necessity may not be of so little practical
importance as the Essayist and others imagine ;
nor worthy of such summary dismissal to the " dark
caverns" of speculation from whence it first issued.
But we must now proceed, as we proposed, to
consider those defects in the argumentation of
this great work, which the Essayist to whom we
have so often referred, professes to discover. In
the "Introduction" to his Essay, he sums up
what he deems the principal defects of Edwards
in the vague charge, a charge which we shall
consider more particularly hereafter, — that he
" mingles purely abstract propositions — proposi
tions strictly metaphysical, with facts belonging
to the physiology of the human mind." This the
author affirms is " fatal to the consistency of a
philosophical theory ; " " that the reader will be
conscious of a vague dissatisfaction, or latent sus
picion that some fallacy has passed into the train
of reasoning, though the linking of syllogisms
seems perfect." Since these charges are of so
grave a nature, since, if they really exist, these er
rors must run through the whole tissue of Edwards's
argumentation and reduce it to dust, one would
expect that the meaning of the Essayist would
have been most copiously and perspicuously ex
plained, — that every particular instance in which
such worthless materials had been wrought into
the woof of argument, would have been pointed
out, and the feeble character of the texture de
monstrated by just breaking up, as our author
could easily have done, the sophisms which Jona
than Edwards has constructed out of such incon
gruous premises. Yet, strange to say, he has
ventured upon no such specification ; he seems to
think it not too great a demand upon our credulity,
that we should believe on his mere assurance, and
in reference to such a work as the " Inquiry," that
it is possible to point out such " errors of me
thod," as in fact vitiate nearly the whole of the
reasoning !
The only attempt which, so far as we can find,
he makes to illustrate and to substantiate his for
midable charges, is in his fourth " section," (in
which he considers the question of necessity as
one " of the physiology of man,") and in a note
or two appended to that part of his performance.
We do not hesitate to say, that if the charge there
adduced be a fair specimen of those other in
stances of defective logic, which he has concealed
with such cautious mystery, the " Inquiry" may
still be regarded as the same irrefragable piece of
reasoning which the world has always considered
it. In our opinion his attempt is a signal failure.
For what is his objection to Edwards in the pas
sages to which we refer ? Why, that he has not
entered sufficiently into the physiological condi- ,
tions of volition in different classes of voluntary
agents, or the same agents at different times ; he
blames him that he has not taken into account

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xxxvu

•the infinite diversity of circumstances, the endlessly
varying degrees and limits within which the volun
tary principle may be exercised amongst different
classes of voluntary agents, from the lowest ani
mals to the highest orders of created intelligence ;
or in the same voluntary agents at different
periods of their existence, and possessed of vary
ing measures of knowledge and experience. With
all this, the question of the moral necessity of all
volitions had nothing whatever to do. It is true,
indeed, that owing to the causes the Essayist has
specified, the processes of volition are endlessly
complicated and varied ; and in order to supply
Edwards's imagined deficiencies, he has illustrated
his meaning with much vivacity, but with a some
what tedious amplification, by a reference to the
processes of volition in different classes of volun
tary agents. Now all this is obviously quite
foreign to the subject ; it has no connexion with
the only aspects in which it concerned Jonathan
Edwards to consider the question. Edwards's ob
ject was to consider volitions in that point in
which they all resembled one another, — namely,
as originating in motives of some kind or other ;
no matter how those motives may vary in number
and complexity in different orders of voluntary
agents, or in the same agents at different periods.
His design did not require that he should consider
the number of causes which in particular cases
control volition, but whether volition is not always
caused. Yet the Essayist, assuming, apparently,
that Edwards ought to have done this, and that
his argument is defective because it touches no
inquiries of such a nature, is amusingly copious in
instances of supposed similar errors in reasonings
on some of the mechanical arts. In these in
stances the abstract principles of mathematics are
imagined to be rigorously applied to a variety of
complicated problems, that can be decided only
by a cautious and extensive induction of facts in
several departments of science. But we think it
just to cite the following sentences, which will
enable our readers to judge for themselves.
" That practical science which relates to the strength
of materials, in like manner combines the principles of
several sciences. ¦ * * * *
Now, let it, in these cases, be supposed that the ma
thematician, dogmatically confident of his demonstra
tions, were (and this is in fact the fault of the earlier
mathematicians, and not seldom of Leibnitz,) to determine
the problem above mentioned, as if it were a pure abstrac
tion, or, h" he referred loosely to certain vulgar facts con
cerning the strength of timber, were neither to make ex
periments of this physical kind, nor to swerve at aU from
his mathematical processes in regard to them : — in this
case all his products must be erroneous. Or, though cor
rect mathematically, they would be inapplicable to the real
world, and useless, or worse than useless, in practice. It
is but of late that these cases of complicated princi
ples have been made matters of science. We must not
wonder, therefore, that within the hazy precincts of intel
lectual philosophy, distinctions and separations of a pa
rallel kind have scarcely at all been regarded. Now, to
return to the instance before us, of the treatise on ' Free
dom of Will,' the argument is, in the main, abstract, but
not purely so; for, besides the admixture of scripture
proofs, the physiology of the human mind is taken up, as
its material or subject, and yet far too loosely and vaguely
d

to satisfy those who look at human nature as an object of
natural philosophy. Or, to refer allusively to the illus
tration above given, Edwards is an accomplished mathe
matician ; but he thought little, or did not take into his
calculations, the difference between oak and fir. His
treatise on the ' Will' is, to a true philosophy of human
nature, as the demonstrations of Leibnitz — Demonstra-
tiones Nova? de. Resistentid Solidorum — are to modern me
chanical science."
Now, it is by no means difficult to show that
there is a glaring fallacy in this quietly assum
ed parallel ; that there is in reality no sort of
analogy between the case of Edwards and that of
these supposed dogmatists. Had Edwards, indeed,
not only reasoned from one volition to all, in those
points in which they all resemble one another,
and in which they may all be treated as one
class ; if he had not only argued that all volitions
are caused by some motives, but that the same
motives will always cause the same volitions in all
classes of voluntary agents, or any such absur
dities, then indeed the cases would have been
parallel. He would have fallen precisely into the
error into which the Essayist has imagined him to
fall. A really parallel case would have been to show
that a mechanic would have argued fallaciously in
applying mechanical laws to materials in general,
so far as they all resembled one another — so far
as they possessed universally the common proper
ties of matter. It is only so far as volitions all
resemble one another that Edwards treats of
them. — The Essayist has illustrated his meaning
by copious examples ; let us be allowed to take
one. Edwards is reasoning with those who are
supposed to deny that to be a quality of all volitions
which he predicates of them. Let us suppose that
instead of this he was arguing with some one who
denied the refrangibility of ligBt ; and suppose he
were to establish the doctrine that the rays of light
were refracted, more or less, no matter in what
degree, whatever the medium through which it
passed ; would his reasoning be thought imperfect
for all the great purposes for which he used it, that
he did not show that it was refracted more in
passing through some media than others, or in
not ascertaining, by a large induction, the phy
sical conditions of light when passing through
each. We imagine not. Or, suppose he were
arguing that all design proved an intelligent
cause ; would his argument, for the purposes
to which he used it, be the less conclusive that
he did not exemplify it with all the enchanting
variety of detail, spread out over the pages of
Paley's Natural Theology. Now in the instance
before us, Edwards is proceeding on precisely the
same principle. He reasons that all volitions
(no matter how complex or how simple the play
of motives in each particular instance) are not un
caused — a fact which the Essayist does not deny.
How, then, is his logic impaired by his not entering
into the physiological conditions of volition in
different classes of voluntary agents ? Had he at
tempted any thing of this kind, we quite concur
with the Essayist in thinking that he would have

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

failed ; and for reasons which we have already
abundantly specified in the analysis we have given
of Edwards's mind. With his characteristic judg
ment he has, it appears to us, just confined his
argument within those limits which were exactly
adapted to the structure of his intellect. And to
have gone further would have been not only enter
ing upon a field for which we cannot but think he
was not well qualified, but quite alien from the
controversy in which he was engaged.
The instance to which we have above referred,
(so far as we have been able to find,) is the only
one in which the Essayist has even attempted to
establish his position, that Edwards has intro
duced those fatal elements of dissolution into his
reasoning of which he speaks. But the general
charge is so grave, that we think it due to Edwards
to examine this position somewhat farther. The
language, indeed, in which it is couched, is so
vague, that no one can tell how far he intends to
urge it ; but for this very reason it may create in
the minds of some readers an impression far
stronger than he himself intended to convey. How
easy would it have been for him to have obviated
the possibility of any such misunderstanding, by
letting the world know what are the particular
fallacies which he has detected ! Edwards was
so fair and open a reasoner himself, and so uni
formly avoided any vague or indefinite charges,
that such explicitness seemed peculiarly due to
him from every one who professed to examine his
arguments. That we may not do our author in
justice, we shall beg to cite his words.
" The attentive reader of Edwards will detect a confusion
of another sort, less palpable indeed, but of not less fatal
consequence to the consistency of a philosophical argu
ment; and which, though sanctioned by the highest au
thorities, in all times* and recommended by the example
of the most eminent writers, even to the present moment,
must, so long as it is adhered to, hold intellectual philo
sophy far in the rear of the physical and mathematical
sciences. For the present it is enough just to point out
the error of method alluded to, remitting the further con
sideration of it to a subsequent page.
It is that of- mingling purely abstract propositions —
propositions strictly metaphysical, with facts belonging to
the physiology of the human mind. Even the reader who
is scarcely at all familiar with abstruse science, will, if
he follow our author attentively, be perpetually conscious
of a vague dissatisfaction, or latent suspicion, that some
fallacy has passed into the train of propositions, although
the linking of syllogisms seems perfect. This suspicion
will increase in strength as he proceeds, and will at length
condense itself into the form of a protest against certain
conclusions, notwithstanding their apparently necessary
connexion with the premises."
That we may know what value our author at
taches to these " abstractions," and what valuethose
reasonings must have which are founded on them in
reference to a question of fact, like this of the free
dom of the will, the Essayist gives us to understand
that they stand parallel with " the abstractions of
pure mathematics;" "that it may be said of both,
that the human mind masters them, comprehends
and perceives their properties and relations, and
feels that the materials of its cogitation all lie
within its grasp, are exposed to its inspection, and

need not be gathered from observation." " These
abstractions," he tells us, may be made " to pass
through the process of syllogistic reasoning,"-—
as though all other propositions, of any nature
whatsoever, that are capable of being made to yield
logical inferences from their comparison with one
another, were not capable of being made to pass
through that process too ; or as though the struc
ture of the syllogism depended on the kind of pro
positions which constitute the premises, instead
of the connexion between the premises and the
conclusion. Now if Edwards has employed such abstractions
as our Essayist here mentions, we should be glad
if he would particularize them. It is incredible
how much trouble may be saved by a little specifi
cation. This, however, he has not even attempted ;
he has not given us a single instance of those
" abstractions," of which the author predicates so
close an analogy to the definitions of pure mathe
matics. The simple fact is, there were none to give.
In truth, if Edwards had employed any such
" abstractions'^ those the Essayist describes, (just
as one might employ any conceivable propositions
on any subject for the mere purpose of logical il
lation, modestly assuming that those preliminary
" abstractions" are to be taken for granted,) he
would have done a very absurd thing ; however
consecutive his argumentation might be, it would
have been utterly worthless, because purely hypo
thetical ; depending upon a concession of the pre
mises, and those, too, " abstractions." So far
from its being true, as the Essayist appears to
imagine, that the treatise on the "Will" would
have been more complete, " more philosophically
consistent," if such abstractions, instead of being
" mingled with facts belonging to the physiology of
thehuman mind," had been adhered to throughout,
they would have crumbled the whole stupendous
structure of argumentation into dust.
Abstractions, in this sense, Edwards never
uses. The words " abstract truths" may be
taken in two senses. They may mean, proposi
tions purely hypothetical, or propositions which,
though they would be true if the universe were
annihilated, and are, therefore, called abstract,
are not the less applicable on that account
(but rather the more so) to actual existence.
Thus, for example, when Edwards maintains the
proposition, that every " effect must have a cause,"
he maintains what we suppose our Essayist would
call an abstract proposition ; it is so, because as
soon as the mind has once comprehended the ideas
of cause and effect, it perceives that it would be a
contradiction to imagine such a proposition un
true, and that it would not be the less true were
the universe annihilated. But this universality
of application dues not render the principle inap
plicable to the universe as it is actually constitu
ted, but rather the reverse.
Thus abstractions of this nature may be em
ployed in questions of fact, and in conjunction
with propositions asserting facts belonging to the
physiology of the human mind, without any sort

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

of impropriety; and for this simple reason, that
they are employed not as purely hypothetical
propositions, but for the very purpose of being ap
plied, and because they are applicable, to actual
existences. It is just so, in the case of that ab
stract truth to which we just now referred.
For precisely the same reasons the abstractions
of mathematics are capable of application to ac
tual existence, and enter so largely into the rea
sonings of the mixed sciences.
The abstract propositions, which Edwards
brings forward, are so far from being merely
hypothetically true, that they are actually true,
and indeed are only called abstract propositions
because it is supposed to imply a contradiction
that they should be untrue.
We may illustrate this by a reference to Ed
wards's great maxim, that every " effect must
have a cause." This is supposed to be true as a
matter of fact ; and to be rendered available to
his purpose, only because it is such. If only
admitted to be hypothetically true, all the demon
strations founded upon it, being hypothetical too,
would to any practical purpose be worthless. But
so far from this, it is only affirmed to be an ab
stract proposition at all, because in distinction
from ordinary matters of fact, it would be a con
tradiction to suppose the contrary. If the uni
verse were annihilated, it would still be true that
every effect, whether actually existent or possible,
must presuppose a cause. But it is for the express
purpose of applying it to actual effects, (and of
course it embraces these, since it embraces every
possible effect,) that it is employed by Edwards.
It would be true in mathematics, that every circle
must possess certain properties, though no circle
were in existence ; yet it would be strange to
imagine, that we could not reason from such a de
finition to any actually existent circle, when we
have already admitted that it applies to every pos
sible circle. It is as a fact, that Edwards submits
his great postulate to his opponents ; a fact, which
if they deny, they must deny at the peril of being
driven to concessions far more appalling, than the
admission of the doctrine of philosophical necessity.
Now such propositions being intended to apply to
actual existence, and not merely affirmed to be
hypothetically true, (although they are hypothe
tically true,) may certainly be conjoined with pro
positions respecting mere matter of fact, (as for
instance facts connected with the physiology of
the mind,) and the deductive processes of reason
ings, founded on such propositions, be in no de
gree vitiated by such conjunction*
This charge of unsound reasoning, therefore,
cannot for a moment be sustained by the mere
fact, which is all upon which the Essayist has
• It is not imprbper to observe, that the Essayist constantly
uses the words " abstractions," " metaphysics," " metaphysical
science," " intellectual philosophy." &c. in the most vague and
obscure manner, so as to render it quite impossible to under
stand precisely what he means. To the very paragraph in
which he has brought forward his great charge, that Edwards
has impaired his reasoning by the union of propositions
" strictly metaphysical," with " facts belonging to the physio
logy of the mind," and where, if any where, his readers might
expect a perspicuous and logical exposition of what he wished
d 2

thought proper to rest it; that Edwards em
ploys " abstract propositions," and " facts con
nected with the physiology of the mind," as con
joint elements of his ratiocination. This charge
cannot be sustained, because Edwards never em
ploys any " abstract principles," in the absurd
way the Essayist imputes to him, but always with
a reference to actual existences. By saying,
therefore, that there is such a conjunction of
different propositions, (which is all he does say,)
the Essayist proves no reasoning of Edwards's
to be unsound ; his duty clearly was, to have
pointed out the particular instances in which such
propositions are fallaciously conjoined.
The charges of the Essayist are, indeed, very
serious ; and must be made out, not by taking
for granted the very fallacies supposed, and then
by stating that such a method of inquiry must be
very unsound, nor by adducing ingenious speci
mens of such error, from real or imagined cases,
in various branches of physical science ; but by
specifying the particular instances of fallacious
reasoning, in the very work which has called
forth these vague criticisms ; by showing what
those " abstractions," or those " facts," are,
which have been unduly assumed, if the error
lies in the premises, or where the inference is
faulty, if it be in the logical process. This would
have been conferring essential benefit on the
reader of Edwards. We are far from saying, that
every argument Edwards has adduced is sound ;
for it would be surprising, indeed, if in a work of
such magnitude, and of such subtle and pro
found argumentation, no error in any particular
argument had crept in. " But we presume," to
use the language of Edwards to those who he
knew would attempt to evade the force of his
reasoning, by charging him with metaphysical
refinements, " that if any argument be unsound,
it may be shown to be so." The " Essayist" has
not ventured upon this hard task.
We have been the longer upon this subject, be
cause, as we have already stated, the very vague
ness and mystery of that ineffable charge which the
Essayist has brought forward, may tempt many
persons to suppose that he intends it to apply more
extensively than perhaps is really the case. We
cannot conclude these remarks without imploring
the Essayist, should his Essay come to a second
edition, to tell his readers distinctly what those
abstractions of Edwards's are, which are hypothe
tically true, but actually false ; or, what those
" facts" are with which those propositions cannot
be combined ; what in a word are those particu
lar instances of fallacious reasoning, which have
provoked a charge so serious.*
It is true that this doctrine is liable to be abus-
to convey, he actually appends a note, stating, that he " refers us
to a subsequent page for a definition of the sense in which the
writer employs the term metaphysics as distinguished from the
physiology of the mind!" We can only say, we have searched
in vain for even the shadow of such a definition ; there is no
thing, so far as we can find, that even approximates to it. The
Essayist, all along, employs this class of words in the same
doubtful and ambiguous manner, and uniformly exhibits a
strange antipathy to close, precise, and clear explanations. It
is well known that objects seen through a mist are magnified

xl

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

ed ; and so is the opposite. That system is liable
to abuses peculiarly its own ; and, as we have
already shown, it might, in the hands of a lover of
philosophical paradox, be subject to the very same
abuses as the doctrine of necessity. However, it
would be uncandid to deny that the latter is infi
nitely more liable to be thus abused, principally
on account of those unhappy words, necessity, im
possibility, and their correlates, which are so apt
to exercise a pernicious influence on the associa
tions of the vulgar. This, however, assuredly
affords no argument for abandoning the doctrine,
unless it be reasonable to abandon whatever is
liable to abuse. . It is, nevertheless, a sound rea
son for stating the theory of moral necessity with
the utmost caution, and for vehemently protesting
against its abuses.
It is worthy of mention, as strongly illustrating
Edwards's prodigious' powers, that the rough copy
of the work on the " Will" was written in little
more than four months. This fact has been clearly
established by some letters he has left behind him.
A full account of the matter will be found in the
Memoir. The work on " Original Sin" stands next in
importance to the treatise on the " Will," and is
scarcely, if at all, inferior in vigour and subtilty of
reasoning. It is (beyond all comparison) the
ablest explication of the Calvinistic doctrine on
this point, ever written. Edwards died before it
was published.: he left it, however, quite ready,
for the press ; indeed, several sheets had passed
under his own revision.
A very great part of the work is in the strictest
sense controversial ; yet, as Edwards explicitly
states, it is not intended to be so much a reply to
any particular antagonist, as a general defence of
the doctrine in question. The author whom he
chiefly opposes was Dr. John Taylor of Norwich,
who had published elaborately against the Cal
vinistic doctrine of original sin ; both in a trea
tise expressly on this subject, and incidentally,
in his Commentary on Romans.
This doctrine, as is the case with the controversy
on the will, has been almost hopelessly perplexed
by the ambiguity of certain terms, and the associ
ations formed upon them. On this account we are
very far from thinking either the term " original
sin," or " imputation of Adam's sin," well chosen.
We dislike the first, because the word " sin "
is generally used to designate some act of trans
gression, in thought, word, or deed, of some pre
cept of the moral law ; and this ordinary use of
it gives opportunity to theologians, who may be
either deficient in candour or strong in prejudice,
to talk of the absurdity of supposing sin in those
who have never actually committed transgression.
All this would be avoided, if it were always borne
in mind, that what is meant by " original sin,"
into vast dimensions. From the almost elaborate obscurity
which sometimes distinguishes the Essayist, one might almost
imagine that he was trying to practise upon us this optical
illusion, and experimenting whether the most slender sophisms
might not appear gigantic phantoms-of logic when dimly de-

is principally that depraved bias of our nature
which predisposes us to sin, and which (as the
Calvinists maintain) we have derived from our first
parents ; a bias which, so long as it is found in
us, necessarily exposes us (as we shall presently
see) to suffering. We dislike the second term,
" imputation of Adam's sin," because the word
imputation is apt to suggest the idea of an arbi
trary transfer of the guilt and consequent punish
ment of one moral agent to another moral agent,
whose moral condition is essentially different.
But this is not what is meant by it. if we could
suppose one of the descendants of Adam born
without this depraved bias, and actually, when
master of his own actions, persevering in unbroken
obedience to the law of God, then the imputation
of Adam's guilt would be considered by Calvinists
quite as absurd and as unjust as our opponents
profess now to consider it. All that is meant by
the "imputation of Adam's sin," is that as, in
the original constitution of things, Adam and his
posterity were linked together by an inseparable
union, as the root of a tree and its branches ; and as
the moral state of the latter (as well as their state
in every other respect) was affected by that of the
former, so it was reasonable that Adam should be
treated as the federal head of his race. They are
so far one, as to warrant similarity of treatment.
In this hypothesis, the moral state of his descend
ants is not the consequence of the imputation of
Adam's sin, but presupposed as the reason of such
imputation, and as prior to it in the order of nature :
they are treated as he is, because they are presup
posed to be, and are really, morally like him.
Thus the great, and we may say the sole difficulty,
is to reconcile it with justice that the destinies of
our race should be linked in a chain of mutual
dependence with those of our first father ; that
not only our physical condition, (a fact universally
admitted,) but that our moral condition, should
take its complexion from his own ; that as he was,
we should be ; that if he fell, and, as a conse
quence, became mortal, we should fall with him,
and become mortal too. Such a constitution,
however, of course, presupposes the state of Adam's
descendants to correspond with his own ; and the
imputation of Adam's sin means nothing more than
that they are treated as Adam was, simply because
they are virtually in the same condition with him.
According to this doctrine, therefore, the real diffi
culty is not to reconcile the imputation of sin and
guilt where there is no sin and guilt at all, (for that
is not the case supposed,) but to vindicate the rea
sonableness of a constitution by which one being
becomes depraved by his dependence on another
who is so, or by which the moral condition of one.
being is remotely determined by the moral condi
tion of another.
Such is the doctrine when freed from all theo
logical technicalities. And the more we consider
scried through clouds of ambiguous language. We find our
selves as much perplexed as that able reviewer to whom we
have above adverted, to discover what " those detested abstrac
tions" are, with which the Essayist is so fearfully haunted.

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xlr

it, the more we shall perceive, that the sole diffi
culty is the one we have mentioned.
It will, perhaps, be said, that the circumstances
of Adam and his posterity are essentially differ
ent ; that similarity of moral condition would not
justify similarity of treatment, inasmuch as Adam
had actually sinned, whereas his posterity are only
supposed to possess a depravity of nature — a
proneness to sin — a deflection from the line of
original rectitude. But this alters not the case, as
it regards the present argument. So long as such
a moral condition exists, no matter how it origi
nated, so long will it be a necessary consequence,
that that Being who is infinitely and unalterably
holy, should regard it with abhorrence and dis-
placency. We are not now, be it recollected,
inquiring into the origin of the depravity, nor
canvassing the justice of that constitution by
which, in the first instance, the moral condition of
one being is made to depend on that of another ;
(the great, and, as we have already stated, the sole
difficulty;) we are merely asserting, that as is the
moral state of the soul, such will be the condition
of happiness or misery attached to it ; and such
the regards, whether of complacency or abhor
rence, with which the Divine Being will necessarily
contemplate it. It is this posture of the soul —
this particular moral state — apart from and
previous to the actual commission of sin, that
determines its physical condition ; and it is this,
as both reason and Scripture assure us, in which
essentially consists alienation from or conformity
to God. It is not the nature of any moral act,
so much as the state of mind from which such an
act flows, which characterizes the condition of
a moral agent, and is chiefly the object of the
Divine regards. The one is but an expression
of the other. — It is not merely in the moment in
which evil passions are active, that their slave
and victim is hateful ; he is equally so, when
those passions are in a state of transient and
treacherous repose ; when the storm is for a mo
ment hushed : for we know that the elements of
evil still exist in his bosom as strongly as ever, and,
when circumstances favour, will break out with
renewed violence. We loathe a venomous reptile,
not only when it wounds, and because it wounds,
but because it can wound ; we loathe it simply
because it carries about with it such a terrible ap
paratus of mischief; and this too, even though it
may never have been actually mischievous. Nay,
we loathe it even before its pernicious energies
are sufficiently developed to be injurious at all.
We look simply at its nature ; we form our opinion
from what that nature is in itself, and do not wait
for actual displaysof it. Or, (to change the illustra
tion,) who would not recoil from the spectacle of a
sleeping brigand, on whose countenance were im
pressed merely the traces of those stormy and de
praved passions, which slumber had hushed into mo
mentary repose ? We should abhor him because his
nature was so depraved — because, however harmless
for the moment, he still carried venom within. Now
let us imagine a human being, whose faculties

have never yet been employed in the actual com
mission of evil, but yet are fully developed for ac
tion; who, in a word, has been slumbering from
infancy to manhood ; and let us suppose, that we
know he will certainly employ his. faculties for
evil, the moment he shall start into active life ;
must not such a being, even before he has actually
committed evil, or " sinned after the similitude of
Adam's transgression," be an object of abhorrence
to every being characterized by moral rectitude,
and consequently to God himself, and that in a
degree proportioned to His jneffable purity ? Such
a depraved being will be loathed because his
nature is hateful. Neither must we forget, that
where this depravity exists at all, the infinitely pure
eyes of the Supreme can perceive far more of what
is hateful in a soul thus morally perverted, even
amidst what we are accustomed to consider the
innocence of infancy, than our sin-clouded eye
can see in the hardened brow and perturbed
features of the sleeping murderer. Nor does it
matter how long it may be, before the evil prin
ciples which are lodged in the breast shall develope
their energies in action ; or in what part of the
boundless dominions of the Eternal. Through
the varying scenes of immortality, through all
worlds, throughout infinite duration, the same
abhorrence on the part of the Divine Being must
continue so long as the same causes operate to
produce it : while he is pure and holy, so long
must he hate what is the reverse of his nature.
This perpetual hostility is the inevitable result of
the different relations in which the two beings stand
to one another ; and a change must pass upon
one, before he can be brought into conformity with
the other ; in other words, before this hostility can
cease. It may be said, perhaps, that this represent
ation bears ominously on the destinies even of those
who die in infancy, inasmuch as their death only
removes them, with the same depraved principles
still inherent, to some other sphere of action ; to
some distant world, in which those principles shall
be developed, — the same relations still persisting,
between them and their Creator, as though they
had been permitted to live on earth. And this
in our opinion would have been the case, (for
death, simply considered, has no tendency to
work a moral change on the soul,) were it not
for that auspicious remedy which the gospel pro
vides. The death of Christ has obliterated the
effects of Adam's transgression, so far as that none
shall be left to final depravity or final condemna
tion, for that alone. Thus provision is made for
the moral renovation of infants ; that renovation
which must be produced in some way or other,
before they can be received into communion with
God. Who, then, does not exult in the glorious
effects of the gospel, which has thus peopled
heaven at once with unnumbered myriads of our
race ? and who does not almost envy the lot of
those who, dying in infancy, are subjected at once
to that transformation of nature, which shall fit
them for the eternal habitations of heaven ? — But,
in some way or other, the change, it is obvious,

xlii

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

must be produced ; since so long as God remains
what he is and a depraved creature still depraved,
(no matter how the depravity originated,) so long
must the latter remain beneath the frown of the
former. Such is the explication of the doctrine of original
sin, which, it will be seen, does not, as is so often
represented, imply the arbitrary imputation of the
guilt of one moral agent to another, in no sense
guilty ; and then an equally arbitrary infliction
of punishment : but, presupposing the moral state
of Adam's descendants to resemble his own, and
to necessitate, therefore, the same treatment, it re
presents it as just to deal with us as in our great
progenitor, — as virtually one with him, as grafted
on his stock, as bound up in his destinies.
Now let us look, for a moment, at the great and
sole difficulty with which this theory is embarrassed.
It may perhaps be conceded, that when a certain
moral state is once originated, a certain treatment
on the part of the Supreme becomes inevitable; but
then it will doubtless be objected, that it is ap
parently an unjust thing, or if this representation
be too strong, a perplexing thing, (as we fully ad
mit it to be,) that the moral state of one being
should, in the first instance, be affected by that of
another. But, then, is this difficulty more insur
mountable than a thousand others closely analo
gous? It is apparently an unjust and perplexing
thing, that one being should be born into the
world with the seeds of disease and death within
him ; yet, we do not permit ourselves, on the one
hand, to say, that it is not true that any are so
born ; for we are obliged to admit it in fact ; nor
on the other, that if it be true, it contravenes all
the perfections of God; for as we find the fact
to be incontrovertible, we wisely determine within
ourselves, that there is some way, though we know
not what it is, of reconciling the fact with all the
attributes of Deity.
It will be seen by the defence we have just made,
that we should not choose to attempt to vindicate,
by direct argument, that constitution, by which
the moral destinies of one being are in fact in
trusted to the keeping of another. This is one of
the mysteries about which, in our present state, it
is in vain to reason. The difficulty is to be met,
simply bv appealing, in the first instance, to the
facts which prove such a constitution, and then
by showing that the very same difficulty presses
on any hypothesis that can be adopted on this
subject ; and, indeed, may be objected to all the
proceedings of God towards this lower universe :
— and consequently can never be conclusive
against the Calvinistic doctrine of original sin.
Wh tt we have chiefly to do, is to ascertain,
whether it is a fact that there is such a constitu
tion ; it is impossible that we can ever give a solu
tion of the reasons why the Divine Being permitted
that there should be such ; or what were the su
perior advantages which, notwithstanding all the
evils connected with it, it possessed over others.
Why evil should be permitted to exist at all under
the government of a Being whose power, wisdom,

and benevolence, appear to be equally unlimited,
must remain an inscrutable mystery. That con
stitution of things, however, of which we are now
speaking, is no greater mystery. But, as we have
already sdid, all that we have to do is to ascertain,
whether it is a fact, that God has permitted a
constitution of things, by which the moral state
of one being is affected by that of another. The
first proof of it is deduced from the astounding
and (upon any other hypothesis) inexplicable fact,
that all mankind become sinners; that they as
certainly fall into the commission of evil as they
are permitted to exist! This, except upon the
supposition of a depraved bias, is absolutely un
accountable ; it is incredible, that not one out of
the many myriads of our race should have retained
his moral integrity, supposing all to have been
born without any predisposition to evil. But on
this subject we need say nothing : in the first
part of his treatise, Edwards has done (he fullest
justice to this branch of the argument. We know
not which most to admire, the subtilty, or the com
prehensiveness, of his reasoning. It amounts to
little short of demonstration.
But, as we just now intimated, there are incon
testable facts which form a presumptive proof of
the existence of such a constitution. Such a con
stitution would be in harmony with a thousand
analogies, which offer themselves to our notice in
every part of this lower universe. It is an ad
ditional reason, why we should not reject the
belief of such a constitution, merely because we
cannot give an explanation of it, that many of
those analogous cases (cases fully admitted on all
hands) are equally difficult of explication ; and
ought therefore, if the one be rejected, to be re
jected too ; a conclusion which would speedily
lead us to atheism. We find, in truth, tint the
great law of the universe is mutual dependence.
To ascend from the lower to the higher instances :
— In the vegetable world , the root and the branches,
the stock and the flower, flourish and wither,
bloom and decay together. In the animal world,
the young depend in a vast variety of ways upon
their parents. In numberless cases, the most dis
tressing infirmities and the most torturing dis
eases, rendering the whole of life one long paroxysm
of misery, are hereditary. The whole animal crea
tion (our opponents themselves being judges) suffer
death " for one man's sin ;" nay, numberless my
riads of sensitive beings, who are in every sense
guiltless and innocent, or rather, whb are incapable
of crime, are subjected to an immense amount of
the most cruel suffering and at last to death itself,
simply because their destinies are mysteriously in
terwoven with ours. " The whole creation groan-
eth and travaileth," because man has played the
fool. The child (to come a little nearer to the
case before us) suffers for the folly or vice of its
parent; nay, children's children, to remote ge
nerations, shall be doomed to poverty or wretch
edness, for the crime or imprudence of one an
cestor ; whole nations are often the victims of one
man's folly, tyranny, or ambition ; and lastly, to

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xliit

adduce a case strictly parallel, the moral con
dition of myriads (especially in heathen or savage
countries) is as completely dependent upon the
moral condition of those who are intrusted with
their early education and upon whose character
their own are necessarily formed, as though they
had received from them a good or evil bias with
the very elements of their being. Nurtured in
ignorance, vice, and folly ; trained as early and
as invincibly to evil, as they could have been in
any other way ; familiarized to every species of
crime and deprived of every incentive to virtue ;
what hope is there, what remote probability re
mains, of their being any thing else than just what
their moral guardians have been ? And this, be it
recollected, shall be the case, not only with solitary
individuals, but with whole nations, and that not
only for a generation, but through a long series of
ages. Now such a constitution is, in fact, as in
explicable (for in truth it is identical) as the one
we are now considering. Yet the former is
universally admitted, not because it can be ac
counted for any more than the other ; but simply
because it cannot be denied. Here we cannot re
frain from quoting the candid language in which
Arohbishop Whately cautions the opponents of
Calvinism against employing arguments which
will inevitably recoil on themselves. They were
originally applied to a different subject; but are
strictly applicable to this.
" Before I dismiss the consideration of this sub
ject, I would suggest one caution relative to a
class of objections, frequently urged against the
Calvinistic scheme — those drawn from the conclu
sions of what is called natural religion, respecting
the moral attributes of the Deity ; which it is con
tended, render the reprobation of a large portion
of mankind an absolute impossibility. That such
objections do reduce the predestinarian to a great
strait, are undeniable ; and not seldom are they
urged with exulting scorn, with bitter invective,
and almost with anathema. But we should be
very cautious how we employ such weapons as
may recoil upon ourselves. Arguments of this
description have often been adduced, such as, I
fear, will crush beneath the ruins of the hostile
structure the blind assailant who has overthrown
it. It is a frightful but an undeniable truth, that
multitudes, even in christian countries, are born
and brought up under such circumstances, as
afford them no probable, often no possible, chance
of obtaining a knowledge of religious truths,
or a habit of moral conduct ; but are even trained
from infancy in superstitious errors and gross de
pravity. -Why this should be permitted, neither
Calvinist nor Arminian can explain ; nay, why the
Almighty does not cause to die in the cradle every
infant, whose future wickedness and misery, if
suffered to grow up, he foresees, is what no system
of religion, natural or revealed, will enable us sa
tisfactorily to account for. in truth, these are
merely branches of the one great difficulty, the
existence of evil, which may almost be called the
only difficulty. It assumes, indeed, various

shapes ; — it is by many hardly recognised as a
difficulty, and not a few have professed and be
lieved themselves to have solved it : but it still
meets them, though in some new disguised form,
at every turn ; like a resistless stream, which,
when one channel is dammed up, immediately
forces its way through another. And as the dif
ficulty is not one peculiar to any one hypothesis,
but bears equally on all alike, whether of revealed
or natural religion, it is better in point of prudence,
as well as of fairness, that the consequences of it
should not be pressed as an objection against any.
The Scriptures do not pretend (as some have
rashly imagined) to clear up this awful mystery :
they give us no explanation of the original cause
of evil that exists, but they teach us how to avoid
its effects ; and since they leave this great and
perplexing question just where they find it, it is
better for us to leave it among " the secret things
which belong unto the Lord our God," and to
occupy ourselves with the things that are revealed,
and which concern us practically, — -which " be
long unto us and to our children," that we may
" do all the words of God's law." Whately on
the Writings of Paul, pp. 114 — 116.
The simple question then is, which is the more
reasonable, to admit such a constitution, borne out
as it is by so many facts, and in harmony with
innumerable analogies, though we cannot fully
accouut for it, or to reject it merely for that cause,
at the very same time that we are compelled to
admit the existence of many other precisely
similar facts, equally inexplicable ? May there
not be reasons, though we know them not, which
will justify the one, since we are obliged to admit
that there must be reasons, though we are equally
ignorant of them, which will justify the other?
At all events, let us be consistent, and if we reject
one reject all.
In fact, the difficulties which encumber this sub
ject, as well as those connected with the " freedom
of the will," are all complicated with that great
mystery, the origin of evil ; into which, it may
indeed be said, all the difficulties throughout
the whole science of theology ultimately re
solve themselves. It may be called, in fact,
the only difficulty; had there been no evil in
the universe, it would never have seemed won
derful, either that the volitions of moral agents
should have been determined by an unalterable
love of virtue and goodness, nor that the moral
state of one being should be dependent on that of
another. It would have seemed ridiculous for
beings, thus circumstanced, to repine either that
they did not possess the perilous privilege of exer
cising a self-determining power, or that, necessi
tated to be happy by the law of mutual depend
ence, they had no control over their own destinies.
This great work of Edwards is divided into four
parts :
Part I. contains " evidences of original sin,
from facts and events."
Part II. is occupied with proofs of the " doctrine
from particular parts of Scripture."

\liv

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

Part III. " The evidence of the doctrine from
redemption by Christ."
Part IV. contains " answers to several objec
tions." The " Dissertation on the Nature of True Virtue"
is one of the most profound, and yet, on the whole,
we hesitate not to say, the least satisfactory, of all
Edwards's pieces. As a specimen of acute and
subtle reasoning, it will bear comparison with al
most any thing he ever wrote. He appears to us,
however, to have failed in establishing his main
point ; principally, as we intimated in a former
part of this essay, in consequence of his passion
for purely deductive reasoning. He was too impa
tient to wait for a sufficiently large and compre
hensive survey (so absolutely necessary on such a
subject) of those complicated phenomena on which
this very perplexing question in ethics depends for
a solution. He was too anxious to ascend to some
one all-comprehending principle. In this he re
sembled certain analysists of beauty, who, fully
persuaded that the source of the emotion was to
be found in some one quality, constructed theories
almost as numerous as the sources from which that
emotion really flows. The analysists of virtue
have in general had the like success, and possibly
for similar reasons.
Of those two great questions in ethics, " Whatis
virtue, and what is our obligation to practise it ?"
in other words, " What ought we to do, and why ?"
it is only the former which Edwards proposes to
treat. He undertakes to tell us what virtue is.
His definition of it is, love to being in general.
As this definition sacrifices perspicuity in no in
considerable measure, to a sententious brevity, the
definition requires further definitions to define it.
Edwards therefore proceeds to explain what he
means by his terms. By being, he gives us to
understand that he means beings " possessed
of perception and will;" as these are, he tells
us, " the only beings capable objects of bene
volence." The v/ords " perception and will," are
however unhappily chosen ; inasmuch as they
would lead many to suppose, that he did not in
tend to include the lower orders of sensitive beings
amongst the " capable objects of benevolence."
This is actually the error into which one of the
most acute and accomplished writers on ethical
subjects, Sir James Mackintosh,* fell, when com
menting on Edwards's system. " Surely sen
tient being," says Sir James, " would have
been a more reasonable limitation." This, how
ever, is precisely Edwards's meaning : according
to his notions of will, (decidedly the most rational,)
all beings capable of happinesshave will as well as
ourselves ; the voluntary principle in brutes not
being, in his opinion, essentially different from that
which exists in man, only operating within dif
ferent limits, and controlled by motives differing
in variety and complexity, in different classes of
voluntary agents. For the reasons, however,
« In his essay on the progress of ethical science ; Encyclopaedia
Britannica, last edition, p. 340.

which we have already assigned, it would have
been decidedly better, had he said, " beings capa
ble of happiness." He then shows what is to be
understood by love to being in general. He ex
plains, that he means, the desire of promoting the
happiness of every being in the whole system of
being, in such measure as that the greatest de-
greeof happiness on the whole, shall be the result ;
that every being shall be loved in proportion to
his importance in the universe, and so far as such
love does not prevent the attainment of the greatest.
possible degree of happiness to the whole ; that at
such point the love of individuals must stop ; that
the love of every inferior being, or of every class
of inferior beings, must give way to that of any
one being, or any class of beings, which shall be
proved to possess greater importance in the uni
versal system ; and that to persist in a dispropor
tionate attachment to them is not virtue but vice.
It follows, of course, from this theory, that the
Divine Being is to be loved supremely, and that
every other affection is to be immeasurably sub
ordinate to that which is due to him.
This necessitates our author to speak of differ
ent degrees of being — an obscure and improper
phrase, since there cannot be different degrees of
existence. If a thing exists, it exists ; and this
may be affirmed equally of all classes of beings
that exist at all. His meaning, therefore, by the
phrase, " degrees of being," evidently is, merely the
degrees in which certain faculties and powers are
possessed by different beings, and their consequent
relative importance in the universal system.
Edwards's definition of virtue, therefore, is be
nevolence to all beings capable of happiness, in
such proportions, as that each shall be loved just
as his relative importance in the universal system
deserves, and so far as is compatible with the
grand design of securing the greatest happiness of
the whole : or, in his own words, of which these
are the interpretation, that it consists in " love to
being in general."
Now this being the case, the great question is,
whether Jonathan Edwards means merely to assert
that such a principle of universal benevolence
ought to be a general principle of action in a vir
tuous man in this sense, that he should avoid
whatever he perceives is incompatible with the
welfare of the whole system of being, and should
pursue what he perceives will promote it; or
whether he intends to apply the principle to every
particular act, and to assert that no such act can
be virtuous, unless it flows from a conscious recog
nition of such a principle at the time of action,
in other words, from " love to being in general"
as the motive. If he meant only the former, then
there is no dispute with him ; for that in such a
general benevolence of mind, predisposing it to
seek the happiness of all who are capable of it,
virtue eminently consists, and that a man cannot
be virtuous who does not cultivate such benevo
lence, is universally admitted ; but then, weare
only told in what habit of mind virtue eminently
consists, and are as far as ever from the great and

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xiv

¦pvowed object of inquiry; which is, what is it which
3_enders every act of virtue, virtuous ; in other
words, what is the differential quality of all
virtue ?
To say any thing to the purpose, therefore,
Edwards must have intended (and many subse
quent passages of the " Dissertation" show that this
was his design) to apply his system to every par
ticular act, and to affirm, that virtue cannot be
predicated of any action which does not flow from
a desire to promote the happiness of being in
general ; from a conscious feeling at the time of
action, that the action contemplated would have
this effect.
Consistently with this principle, Edwards dis
tinctly denies that the love of gratitude, or bene
volence to another being for his benevolence to
us ; or even the love of moral beauty, or benevo
lence to another being on account of his moral
excellence, can properly be called virtuous at all.
Yet he will not deny that they are in some sense
virtuous, which admission (if there be any mean
ing in it at all) is a virtual abandonment of his
principle. If the term virtue can, in any sense
in which it still retains substantially the same mean
ing, and merely implies different modifications of the
same thing, be applied to both the above kinds of
love, as well as to that which he contends is alone
properly denominated virtue, then Edwards is
merely telling us, as before, in what virtue emi
nently consists ; he is giving us one of the species
of virtue, and that the noblest, not telling us what
virtue is ; he is telling us what makes some actions
virtuous, and those eminently so ; not what makes
all virtuous actions such. But if the word virtue,
as applied to these various emotions, does not re
tain substantially the same meaning, then it is as
absurd to say that it may in some sense be applied
to them all, as to say that they may be characterized
by the same word, if we will please to understand
that word in two senses as diverse as would be
conveyed by two different words. Just as if (to
imagine a case) a naturalist had resolved to de
fine the term " animals" by saying that they were
beings possessed of the power of locomotion, but
yet affirmed, that, there were other beings who
might, in some sense, be termed animals, though
they had not the power of locomotion. It is evi
dent that if he intends to employ the term animal
in these two cases in the same sense, so as that it
shall retain in both its distinctive qualities, he has
not, in his definition, been giving us the differential
quality of all animals, but only of some, namely,
of those who possess the power of locomotion ; but
if he intends to employ the term animal in two
totally different senses, then it is frivolous to tell
us that the word animal may be applied to beings
who have not locomotion, only it must be in a
sense as different as would be conveyed by the
term vegetable.
Edwards himself seems to be aware of the diffi
culty which thus presses his system, and he there
fore guards his theory by speaking of " true vir
tue." If by this he means not to include all

virtue that is really so, but virtue in the highest
sense, in other words, if he is merely giving us a
species of virtue, (the noblest if you will, but still
a species,) no one will have any dispute with him.
That habit of mind which tends to universal be
nevolence is indeed eminently virtuous ; and those
acts which flow immediately from such a princi
ple, are unquestionably the highest kind of virtu
ous actions. But if he means, as we have before
said, that it is essential to virtue, — not merely to
the highest kind of it,— that its acts should flow
from such a principle, then we affirm without fear
of contradiction, that infinitely the larger portion
of those actions which have usually been thought
virtuous, and are really so in any intelligible
sense, are not virtuous at all. Many of them have
flowed from benevolence, indeed, but not from a
benevolence which has even thought, at the mo
ment of action, of the remote tendencies of action,
or attempted to calculate whether it would pro
duce the largest measure of happiness on the whole,
or whether it was disproportioned to the relative
importance of the being, the love of whom im
mediately inspired it. Innumerable other acts of
virtue have flowed directly from a simple sense of
duty. Nay, by far the greater part of actions of
obedience to God, cannot be deemed virtuous in the
sense we are now considering. For though it is
true, that the Divine Being is infinitely the best
and the greatest of beings, and is therefore of infi
nitely most value in the system of universal being ;
and though we cannot possibly err in impli
citly obeying his will, yet according to the system
we are now combating, those actions which have
a reference to him cannot be accounted virtuous,
unless the whole system of being be considered
too, and our actions sanctioned, not only by a
sense of love and duty to him alone considered,
but as compared with the whole system of being.
Now we appeal to any man of piety, whether the
idea of such a calculation — whether a distinct con
sciousness that he was promoting the happiness of
being in general, ever, or at all events often, en
tered his mind, when obeying God simply because
God has commanded such obedience ?
It is no sort of reply to this to say, that when
the mind comes to reflect on the consequences of
these actions, it sees that virtuous action is ever
coincident with the greatest happiness of all, or
that its tendencies are always beneficial ; in other
words, that when we have really acted virtuously,
we shall find, that so far as regards the results of
actions, we shall always have acted as though we
had been actuated by " love to being in general."
This indeed is true, and is what has led to the con
struction of this theory of virtue ; but there is a vast
difference between acting from universal benevo
lence, and acting as though we had acted from
it ; just as much difference, in fact, as there is
between doing a thing accidentally and of design.
Actions are denominated virtuous or vicious, from
their motives, not from their tendencies ; tenden
cies that are not perceived, or not felt at the time
of action, never determine the moral character of

xlvi

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

the action. If such a rule of moral judgment were
for an instant admitted, many an action would
become virtuous which the world had never sus
pected of being such ; nay, for ought we can tell,
all moral evil itself might be found in the end to
be so. We have no doubt that the discovery of
the sublime and beautiful truth, that all virtuous
action tends, ultimately, and on the great scale, to
universal happiness, in other words, uniformly tends
to the same consequences as though it had origi
nated purely in universal benevolence, led to the
supposition not only that all is virtuous action which
so originated, but that that is not virtue which does
not so originate. That such a tendency may always
be considered a test of virtue in this sense, that it is a
sine qud non of virtuous action ; and that whatever,
in the longrun,can be proved not to possess such be
neficial tendency, cannot be virtue, is true enough.
But not a step further than this will it carry us in the
inquiry, " What is virtue?" There is undoubtedly
one Being whose virtue may be said to consist in
that enlarged and universal benevolence for which
Edwards contends, simply because all the ultimate
tendencies of actions are fully known to him. He
regulates his own conduct, and determines ours,
by his knowledge that such and such actions will,
ultimately, and on the great scale, promote the
welfare of universal being. In him benevolence
and virtue can exactly coincide ; but in him only,
for he alone has the infinite amplitude of mind
necessary to embrace all the remote consequences
of any given action, as spread out over the map of
infinite ages and interwoven with the history of in
numerable worlds. To man he has given other and
inferior principles of action ; and though that is in
man the noblest species of virtue (for this we will
ingly concede to Edwards) which most resembles
the boundless benevolence of the Most High,
there are very many human actions, properly
denominated virtuous, which must immediately
spring from a lower source. By an economy full
of beauty and wisdom, however, the Divine Being
has ordained that the subordinate principles from
which man's virtue springs, should have a tendency
to promote that which is his direct end ; the wel
fare of the whole system of being. If every man
would only do that which he knows to be his duty,
(whether the principle of benevolence, or gratitude,
or any other, be immediately paramount, mat
ters not,) the harmony of the universe would be
secured. To use the beautiful language of Robert
Hall : " It might have been worth while to re
flect, that in the natural world there are two kinds
of attraction ; one which holds the several parts of
individual bodies in contact ; another, which main
tains the union of bodies themselves with the
general system : and that, though the union in
the former case is much more intimate than in
the latter, each is essential to the order of the
world. Similar to this is the relation which the
public and private affections bear to each other,
and their use in the moral system." To sum up
the whole : If Edwards means by " true virtue," to
tell us only what is the sublimest and noblest

species of virtue, then he is quite right, for cer
tainly those acts of virtue deserve to be so con
sidered, which spring from a distinct intention of
producing the largest measure of good on the
whole or in other words, from universal benevo
lence.' But if he means to assert that virtue can be
predicated only of such actions as spring from
such a principle, then it is manifestly false ; and
would go to banish virtue out of every sanctuary
in the universe, except its only inviolable abode,
the bosom of God.
A word or two on the pernicious application, of
which, without any fault of Edwards, the system
he has adopted is susceptible. That man should
strive to cultivate the sublime disposition of mind,
which forms the basis of this theory, is indeed
most true, and the more we possess it, the more
we resemble God. Yet to attempt to reduce it
systematically to practice in particular actions,
would be to the last degree dangerous and ab
surd. Even if the principle of benevolence were
still retained, and were not (as it soon would be)
warped by selfishness, it would lead to innumer
able errors in action, from false estimates of what
would produce the greatest happiness on the
whole; in other words, from an ignorance of
what universal benevolence, regulated by infinite
intelligence, would dictate. Any thing less than
such an intellect must be necessarily baffled by
such calculations. — But there is another abuse to
which the practical application of the theory is
liable ; and by which that sublime principle of
benevolence, in which the pure and ethereal spirit
of Edwards exulted, and in which alone he would
have virtue to originate and consist, is liable to
be obscured and lost. We allude to those cold
systems of ethics, (founded, as Robert Hall very
justly observes, on a perversion of Edwards's
theory,) which measuring virtue simply by its
beneficial tendencies, fixes the mind rather upon
its happy results, than upon its sublime nature
and origin. According to Edwards's system, vir
tue consists in universal benevolence ; according
to that of some of his imitators, virtue is that
which produces the largest measure of happiness
on the whole. Now these two propositions are
in reality identical, and it may seem to be of very
little consequence which is avowedly made the
basis of an ethical theory. Yet in reality they
may be found, and are found, to lead, as the one
or the other is chiefly contemplated, to two totally
diverse classes of associations, affecting in the
most serious manner our moral sentiments. The
one proposition necessarily obtrudes upon the
mind the ennobling principle from which virtue
springs ; the other, the auspicious results in which it
terminates. As the consequence, one class of
moral philosophers will be admiring principally
the beauty and fertility of the soil through which
such a stream pours out its waters; another
will be looking down into the tranquil and trans
parent depths of that fountain from which those
beneficent waters flow. It well accorded with the
transcendental greatness and purity of a mind like

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xlvii

that of Edwards, that he regarded chiefly the
principle of virtue. Neither the one or the other
indeed ought to be overlooked ; but still it remains
true, that the character of our views of virtue will
be materially affected, according as the one or
the other has the habitual ascendancy in our
thoughts. But we need say little on this subject.
It has been treated with uncommon force and
beauty by Sir James Mackintosh, in his " Disserta
tion on the Progress of Ethical Philosophy."
To any practical application of this theory
under any modification, the insuperable objection
is — that the limitation of our faculties will not per
mit us to use it.
The work on the " Religious Affections" is one
of the most valuable works on practical and ex
perimental piety ever published. It is more de
fective in point of style, as we have already had
occasion to remark, than any other pieces put
forth by Edwards himself. This renders its pe
rusal tedious, and has perhaps detracted from its
value by deterring many from its pages altogether.
To those, however, whose robustness of mind or
whose strength of piety, is not to be repelled by such
defects, and who are never disgusted with truth,
even when she comes forth divested of all her orna
ments, there is no work of the same kind in the
English language which will better repay a care
ful perusal.
This work, as well as the "Thoughts on the Re
vival," were written shortly after the first of those
remarkable periods of religious excitement, which
are now technically called " Revivals," and which
have since been so frequently witnessed in various
parts of America. Edwards wrote for the two-fold
purpose of vindicating them from indiscriminate
censure and of guarding against their excesses.
That these " revivals" have always been character
ized by a vast deal of fanaticism and extrava
gance, and have in a great measure contributed
to produce them, is universally admitted. All this
was to be expected from human nature, and can
excite no surprise in those who are only tolerably
acquainted with that nature. At the same time,
so many sober-minded persons of all denomina
tions have borne witness to the general beneficial
tendencies of these revivals, without any attempt
to disguise their abuses, that no man of candour
can attribute them wholly to fanaticism. Of these
witnesses, none, assuredly, has greater weight with
us than Jonathan Edwards, and none could be
better fitted to form a dispassionate opinion. His
natural coolness of temperament ; his extensive
opportunities of observation ; his fair and candid
admission of the evils by which these revivals were
necessarily attended ; all entitle his opinion to the
utmost deference and respect. We have already
said that his " Thoughts on the Revival" and his
" Treatise on the Religious Affections" were both
written with the same design. Perceiving how
extensively the " revivals" were liable to abuse ;
how ready multitudes were to substitute transient
emotion and excitement of the passions, for the

genuine feelings of religion, and, forgetting the
most essential expressions of real piety, to attach
importance to certain spurious signs of it, he at
tempts to point out what are those proofs, which
may justify an opinion that a religious change,
whether in individuals or communities, is really
the work of God. The treatise of the " Affections"
is an application of these tests to individuals ; the
" Thoughts on the Revival," to communities. The
same coolness of judgment, the snme complete
exemption from fanaticism, (though the author was
so powerfully exposed to its influence,) charac
terize both these productions. The former is im
measurably the most important, and to this the
few observations we are about to make will be
confined. While it cannot be denied that there is a very
large class of mankind, who would identify reli
gion with certain emotions ; who would substitute
for the only infallible indications of a moral change,
animal excitement, sudden illuminations, the alter
nate raptures of a presumptuous hope and the
agonies of an equally unreasonable fear ; who
prove their religion rather by talking of it, than
by permitting it to plead silently for itself in the
eloquence of conduct ; it must be confessed, that
there is a still larger diss, who view with absurd
suspicion every species of religious feeling, and, as
though they thought men were pure intelligences
and the truths which religion reveals, of no more
importance to our happiness than mathematical
abstractions, would school us into an almost total
suppression of strong emotion and of all the na
tural signs of it. The former of these two classes
would be likely to abuse revivals ; the latter would
eagerly lay hold of their incidental extravagances
to cover them with ridicule. Now the design of
Edwards is to show that those signs, which the
fanatic considers exclusive proof of piety, and on
which the phlegmatic formalist pours immea
surable scorn, are, in reality, no conclusive sign
at all, either of piety or the absence of it ; that
such signs may accompany or not accompany
genuine religion, and neither justify the absurd
confidence which one party repose in them, nor
the ridicule and suspicion with which they are
treated by the other. This occupies the first part
of the work. After having thus shown what are
not conclusive marks of a real change of nature,
or of the contrary, he enters upon a masterly
description of those signs which may be con
sidered almost infallible.
The introductory chapter, on the nature of the
affections, showing the absurdity of any religion
that does not powerfully affect them — is well
worthy of universal perusal. Whatever extra
vagances and paradoxes, indeed, men may have
indulged on this subject, none can rival the absur
dities of those who too generally flatter themselves
that they are perfectly free from every weakness of
the kind ; we mean those who deprecate all intense
feeling in religion, and view it with marked suspi
cion ; who on this subject, at least, always maintain
astern control overtheir affections; a control, which,

xlviii

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

on any other, they would be the first to denounce,
as an unnatural apathy. They themselves will tell
you, when matters of present interest engage their
attention, that their affections were implanted, they
presume, for some purpose ; that they do not won
der that the soul of man should be stirred within
him in exact proportion to the magnitude and im
portance of the object that excites his emotion,
nay, very often, in a degree absurdly dispropor
tionate ; and yet they continue to believe that in
comparably the sublimest and the most overwhelm
ing of all themes of contemplation, should inspire
neither terror nor rapture.
Edwards justly contends, that from the very
constitution of our nature, religion, if felt at all,
will powerfully operate on the affections ; and that
by the very same constitution of our nature, such
excitement of the affections will, as in every other
case, show itself by appropriate external signs.
" Out of the fulness of the heart the mouth
speaketh." As to the degree, or the manner, in
which such emotions should express themselves,
care, no doubt, should be taken to repress mani
fest impropriety and extravagance ; still, even in
doing this, great caution must be exercised : not
only charity, but an enlarged philosophy, will
make considerable allowance for peculiarities of
individual temperament, and for the habits and cus
toms of different communities and of different ages.
All signs of emotion, except those which nature
has given us, vary with the changes of times and
of nations, and their absurdity or propriety must be
in a great degree matter of association.
Edwards's great object, however, is to show
that while some signs of emotion may be reason
ably expected if religion be felt at all, yet that be
they what they may, they form no conclusive proof ,
either for or against the reality of religion. Some
emotion, indeed, is naturally the result of religion ;
but at best is only a presumptive proof, a proof in
the sense of a sine qud non ; for such emotion may
spring from other causes. He who exhibits no feel
ing at all, cannot be religious; but he may feel
much who is any thing but religious.
In order to understand exactly the position Ed
wards takes, this must be distinctly borne in
mind. He constantly argues that such and such
signs are not conclusive of the existence of vital
piety ; neither against it, because though some of
them, and to some extent, are the natural, we may
say necessary, accompaniment of piety, they are
often also the accompaniment of something else.
So far as they are sustained by other more conclu
sive proof, they furnish a presumptive evidence of
piety, and are the appropriate expressions of it ;
if not so sustained, they proportionably incur the
suspicion of spuriousness : just as when we judge
of gold ; — the possession of some of the more ob
vious marks is not decisive of the metal, because
these marks may be imitated, or may exist natu
rally in some substance not gold ; but since they
are qualities of gold, they must be considered, so
far as sustained by other properties, presumptive
proof, that the substance in which they inhere is

gold ; so far as not so sustained, the substance is
suspicious. If the presence of such qualities, how
ever, is no positive proof of the substance being
gold, it would be infinitely absurd to suppose their
presence conclusive proof against it, or their
absence a presumption in its favour. Gold must
at least glitter, although all that glitters is not
gold. Not less absurdly do they act, who sup
pose, contrary to all analogous exercises of the
affections, that the proof of the existence of reli
gious feeling is in inverse ratio to a suppression of
its signs.
There are in this masterly production, two de
fects of a character too serious to permit us to
pass them over in silence. One is, in the com
mencement of the second part, where Edwards
proposes to enumerate the signs by which an indi
vidual may judge of the reality of his own religion,
or manifest it to others. The first position is, "that
gracious affections are the results of a divine influ
ence." This is true, butsurely not to the purpose of
his inquiry, which is to show what is the criterion by
which we may judge that religious affections really
have this divine origin. This is the thing to be
proved, and cannot be the medium by which it is
to be proved. This property of religious affections
is the very thing either correctly or erroneously
supposed to exist, and what is wanted is a sign
by which its existence may be proved. As a
general introduction, indeed, showing what it is
which is proposed to be proved, this section is in
valuable ; but not, we conceive, as affording us one
of the signs of the reality of religious affection.
The other defect in this treatise, to which we have
adverted, is thathehas supposed the re ligious affec
tions of the convert, at least in the first stage of his
religious feelings, to be too pure, elevated, and
lofty. We now especially refer to section 2nd,
Part III. entitled, "The first objective ground of
gracious affections is the transcendently excellent
and amiable nature of divine things, as they are
in themselves ; and not any conceived relation
they bear to self, or self-interest." In this section,
he explicitly contends that the love of God has
for its " objective foundation, his moral perfec
tions ; " and is purely disinterested. He here
lays too little stress on gratitude, and those kindred
emotions, which undoubtedly hold an ascendant
influence in the bosom of a young convert ; nay, in
our opinion, Edwards almost inverts the natural pro
gress of religious feeling. The direct tendency of
such representations is todepress the sincere believer.
Of such perfection each is ready to say, " It is high ;
I cannot attain unto it ;" and to conclude, that
because he does not find such marks of piety, he
has none. What is only the attainment of a mature
Christianity, if, indeed, such sublimated devotion
can be attained at all, Edwards represents as cha
racterizing the very infancy of piety. To the super
human elevation to which the Christian must be
conducted (if at all) by many and toilsome steps,
he tells the young convert to soar at once, as
on the wings of seraphim ; and the myste
ries which belong only to the fully initiated,

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

xlix

he would expound at the very threshold of the
temple. We might illustrate the progress of religion in
the soul, by the feelings of a criminal who has un
expectedly received pardon from a magnanimous
and merciful sovereign. A transport of gratitude
to his benefactor is the first impulse ; he is lost in
amazement at his unhoped-for escape. His first
emotions, therefore, naturally have a reference
chiefly to the benefits he has received. After a
while, and as his mind reverts again and again to the
character of his sovereign, admiration of his moral
worth and excellence begins gradually to attain the
ascendancy : as such feelings slowly strengthen
into habits, he at length becomes enamoured of
these excellences for their own sake, and thinks
less of them in relation to the happiness they have
conferred upon him than in relation to their in
trinsic beauty. It is just thus, in our opinion,
with the christian convert. The approximation to
a pure and disinterested love of God, (and whether
such love can be ever attained, may well become
a question,) must at all events be the last and
most exalted attainment of piety. But we need
say the less on this part of the treatise, as it has
been so often and so ably treated by others.
The defects we have mentioned are but slight
abatements from the general excellence of this
treatise, which, of its kind, we believe to be un
matched eitherintheEnglishor anyother language
Some of the latter sections, more especially those
on " evangelical humiliation," and " the symmetry
of religious affections," are full of conceptions
not only profound, but exquisitely beautiful ; con
ceptions, which form a striking contrast with the
uncouthness and ruggedness of the style.
The treatise on " God's chief End in the Crea
tion" will bear comparison with any of Edwards's
pieces, for vastness and comprehensiveness of
thought as well as for subtilty of reasoning. It
had long been a controversy amongst divines,
whether benevolence or the design of fully exhi
biting the divine glory, was the primary motive,
which impelled the Creator to give existence to
the universe. — Edwards argues that both these
objects were contemplated by the Divine Being;
that they are not properly distinct ; on the con
trary, that they exactly coincide ; that in propor
tion as the one is promoted the other must be
promoted also ; and that the highest glory of
God will be the greatest happiness of the universe.
The common arguments which are used to prove
that it is unworthy of the Supreme to suppose him
actuated by the desire of promoting his own glory,
are triumphantly refuted. We know few things
in the writings of Edwards, more felicitous than
that part of the dissertation, in which (after
justly arguing that if there is any sense in which
the infinite Being can be made the chief end of
the creation, it is fit and reasonable that he should
be so) he imagines some perfect being, called in
to decide whether the Divine Glory or the happi
ness of the creature possess the prior claim to
attention. He then ingeniously argues, that as

that imaginary deity would judge, so must the
all-perfect Being, who cannot see things other
wise than they really are. Any apparent harsh
ness, however, in the doctrine is removed by the
view which Edwards takes of it. According to
him, the happiness of the creature and the promo
tion of the Divine Glory are inextricably blended ;
the brighter the rays which stream back upon God
from every part of that mighty universe, which re
flects and multiplies his image, the brighter of
course, that primary effulgence, which emanates
from himself on his happy creatures ; the one is
necessarily the exact measure of the other. The
more dazzling the reflection of the sun's light, the
more powerfully must he be shining on our world.
The work entitled, " The History of Redemp
tion," was, as we have already said, posthumous.
It is unfinished in every sense, and was, in fact,
left merely in fragments, which were afterwards
thrown into the form in which they are now
published. The work would doubtless have been a noble
production had Edwards lived to finish it, but, in
its present state, is little more than a rough
sketch of a magnificent design. His aim was
to illustrate the progress of that great scheme
which the Scriptures assure us has been the
cherished project of the divine wisdom, since the
dawn of time ; — the object to which all the move
ments of Providence have been tending ; for
which this lower world has been continued in ex
istence ; to promote which angels have been sent
forth as ministering spirits ; and the very prepa
ration for which was carried on through a long
succession of ages by typical and shadowy dispen
sations, and the gradual disclosures of prophecy.
Edwards justly thought that important purposes
might be served in tracing the progress of a scheme
so vast and so slowly developed, in watching the
advancement of that glorious light which has at
length burst upon the world, from its first feeble
glimmering in the age of the patriarchs, through
the dim twilight of the Mosaic dispensation, and
the long dawning of the morn of prophecy, even
to the perfect day. He justly thought that — in
showing how this light increased in each particu
lar age, just in that degree which would be most
conducive to the grand object in view, and just in
the degree, also, which the circumstances of the
world would admit, much might be said to illus
trate and vindicate the Divine wisdom at each
stage of this wondrous history.
Another object our author had in view, was to
construct, on an entirely original plan, a system of
theology. This work displays the most profound and fami
liar knowledge of Scripture ; it shows, in a pecu
liar manner, (what, indeed, all his writings show to
a considerable extent,) that he had studied the
whole Bible with the most indefatigable diligence,
and had made it his special object to trace out the
mutual relations and bearings of its various parts.
If Edwards had lived to complete this work, he
would doubtless have enlarged and expanded many

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS

parts, and abridged and condensed others ; for it
is observable, that he very often merely gives us a
tedious and miraculously ill-written amplification
of the Scripture narrative, instead of entering into
the reasons why the events which he relates were
permitted rather than others, or how they bore upon
the great scheme of redemption. Now, it is in this
latter employment — in deducing inferences from
facts already admitted, that Edwards was exactly
qualified to excel. The peculiarities of his style,
as we have already remarked, could not but
render his mere narrative intolerable. We need
hardly say, that he could not give a worse exhi
bition of these most repulsive peculiarities, than
by attempting to translate the clear, simple nar
ration of Scripture into his own uncouth and bar
barous dialect.
The style of it is far more rugged and unpleas-
ing, and contains more tedious repetitions, than
even the treatise on the " Religious Affections,"
or the " Thoughts on the Revival." This might
reasonably be expected ; for if there be found such
an utter absence of elegance, even in those works
which were published under Edwards's own eye,
and on the composition of which, he might na
turally be supposed to have expended some la
bour, what was to be expected from his loose
papers and his more extemporaneous efforts ? Ed
wards was far enough from belonging to that class
of writers, whose most careless and casual pro
ductions have something in them of elegance and
beauty. The above remarks are equally applicable to
another posthumous and unfinished work of Ed
wards, entitled, " Types of the Messiah." This
piece was published a short time since in America,
by his descendant, Sereno Dwight, and is now
republished, for the first time in England, in the
present edition. This work has all the excellences
of the " History of Redemption," and all its de
fects. Both are abundantly rich in rough-hewn
materials for thought ; and form a mine of ex-
haustless wealth to the professed theologian.
The treatise on " Qualifications for Com
munion" was published, as we have already had
occasion to say, under circumstances of a very
peculiar nature ; a detail of which cannot be given
here, but which will be found fully related in the
Memoir prefixed to this edition.
We have already observed, in a former part of
the present essay, that Edwards's conduct in this
controversy, when viewed in all its circumstances,
affords one of the most impressive exhibitions of
lofty integrity, perfect candour, and magnanimity,
the world has ever seen. We may here remark,
that it also furnishes an instance, not less signal,
of irrepressible energy of mind. We are confident
our readers will agree with us, when we tell them
that the work on " Communion " was produced in
the short space of two months and a half, under
the most harassing and depressing circumstances
that can well be conceived !
As the controversy, with which it is taken up,
has now entirely passed away, owing to Edwards

having convinced all America of the truth and rea
sonableness of his opinions, (though he at first stood
nearly alone,) it is unnecessary to enter into an
analysis of the contents of the work : such detail
could hardly be expected to be interesting to the
generality of our readers. We have no hesitation
in saying, however, that for logical acuteness and
subtilty, it is scarcely matched even by the
treatise on the " Will."
Those who enjoy a book not merely for the
truth it conveys, but as an athletic exercise of the
intellect, will derive no less pleasure from it, than
from the perusal of Locke's " Letters to Stilling-
fleet." We know of nothing in the whole range
of controversy more delightfully illustrative of
perfect candour and argumentative acuteness, than
the answers to the twenty objections which he supr
poses his opponents might possibly oppose to his
views. These objections are not such as contro-
vertists too generally put into the mouths of their
adversaries, — the very weakest that can be in
vented. On the contrary, they arc the very
strongest ; are put in the fairest and most forcible
form ; and are then — utterly demolished. It is
impossible to conceive any thing more acute than
his reasoning on the iid, iiid, and ixth objections.
All the above remarks strictly apply to a se
cond piece on the same subject ; we mean his re
ply to the hapless " Solomon Williams," who had
had the desperate courage to attack the first. As
specimens of intellectual power, both these works
of Edwards are invaluable.
The dissertation on " Justification by Faith
alone," is one of Edwards's best pieces, though
not so full or elaborate as some of them. It is,
however, as acute as any, and many parts of
it are scarcely inferior to the profoundest trains
of reasoning in the treatise on the " Will." We
would particularly instance his replies to the ob
jection, that "justification is not of works" is pre
dicated only of justification by the works of the
ceremonial law. All may not agree in particular
statements ; as for example, that of the doctrine
of imputed righteousness ; yet there is very little
to which by far the larger part of those attached
to evangelical truth, would not readily subscribe.
In reasoning on the infinite nature of all sin,
Edwards appears to us to fall into his besetting
vice, verbal reasoning, which he is very apt to do,
when treating of infinitude.
No divine ever unfolded with greater clearness
the province of faith in man's justification. He,
as usual, ascends at once to the fountain-head of
error ; and resolves all the controversies which
have taken place on this head into the ambiguities
of an insignificant particle, " by " faith. The great
question is, how is this particle to be understood ?
He admits that faith is a condition of salvation in
die sense of a sine qud non ; — yet as this is no more
than is true of good works in general, he there
fore argues, that this particle is to be understood
in a more peculiar and emphatic sense. He regards
faith not only as an universal accompaniment of
justification, but as that very act by which the

OF JONATHAN EDWARDS.

soul accepts the Saviour, and enters into union
with him.
As it regards the argument that faith thus under
stood is made a moral qualification for salvation,
and takes the place of good works, since it is, in
fact, a moral excellency of the first and highest
kind, Edwards distinguishes between what faith is
in its own nature, and what it is in relation to the
privileges for which it is made a qualification.
He distinguishes between moral and natural
qualifications ; between such as entitle a man to
certain privileges, and such as have merely a na
tural tendency to fit him for them. It is not as
possessing a moral qualification which entitles its
possessor to certain privileges, that he who possesses
faith is justified, but because he who possesses
faith is in a condition to receive the benefits of the
gospel. Without such a qualification, therefore,
those blessings could not be granted. Though
i faith, then, is in its own nature a moral excel
lency, yet it is only as a natural qualification for
partaking in the privileges of the gospel, that it
avails the believer. Let us take a simple illus
tration. A man designs to grant to another cer
tain great benefits, not in the slightest degree de
served, — in no sense the price of moral desert ;
yet he may demand certain qualifications in the
object of his bounty, and those qualifications may
be of a moral nature, though it is only as natu
ral qualifications that they are demanded. For
instance, he might demand, that he shall be found
honest. The blessings of the gospel all flow
through the mediation and sacrifice of Christ ;
they are not, in any degree, merited by those who
receive them, yet they may justly be confined to
those who possess such and such a natural quali
fication. Faith may justly be called such, since
it has in a variety of ways such a direct tendency to
promote the ultimate object of the gospel, and is,
indeed, the great means by which its blessings are
applied. it is well worthy of mention, that the dis
courses on "Justification by Faith alone" issued
in the conversion of a very considerable number
of persons, and was the immediate cause of that
" revival" at Northampton which afterwards called
forth the " Narrative." This is another proof that
this is the doctrine most peculiarly character
istic of the gospel ; the energetic exhibition of
which will be uniformly attended with success.
The large infusion of metaphysical reasoning in
these discourses might perhaps, in Edwards's case,
somewhat detract from their impressiveness when
preached ; for the very qualities which often ren
der discourses so valuable as dissertations, dimi
nish their worth as " sermons." Yet, though the
lustre and the keenness of this simple weapon might
have been somewhat abated, in this instance, by the
mixture of metaphysical speculation, it nevertheless
reached the heart and produced its never-failing
effects. Well said Martin Luther, that attach
ment to " the doctrine of justification by faith
alone " is the test of a standing or a falling church.
The sermons of Jonathan Edwards, as might

be supposed, are of very unequal merit. We
have already had occasion to speak of two or three
of them. They uniformly display more or less of
the peculiar characteristics of our author's mind ;
the same comprehensiveness and reach of thought;
the same subtilty and vigour of argument. They
will all be found highly valuable to the student
and divine.
The " Miscellaneous Observations," as they are
called, on theological subjects, and the " Notes on
the Bible," occupy not a few pages of his works :
the former were published manyyearsago; thelatter
were given to the world only a short time since by
Sereno Dwight, and are inserted in this edition ;
the first English edition that has contained them.
That such a large quantity, or even a much
larger, of miscellaneous remarks, should have ac
cumulated under our author's hand, is surely
nothing wonderful, when we consider his constant
habit of immediately noting down ,eveiy thought
worth preserving.
These miscellanea are, by no means, the least
valuable of our author's writings. They all ex
hibit, though of course in different degrees, his
intellectual peculiarities, and many of them con
tain the germ and promise of profound theo
ries, which, if Edwards had lived longer, would,
in all probability, have been given to the world
in a mature and systematic shape. Some of these
miscellanea exhibit the substance of extensive
controversies in a few pages ; and, in this respect,
afford yet more conclusive proof of the vastness
and subtilty of Edwards's mind and of the facility
with which he at once ascended to great principles,
than even his more elaborate productions. As
a remarkable instance of this, we would adduce
his observations on Tindal's " Christianity as old
as the Creation." The work of that subtle deist is
one of the most artful and dangerous eveT put forth
by the champions of infidelity ; not, indeed, from
its power of argument, but from the consummate
sophistry with which its fallacies are constructed.
When that sophistry is once unravelled, and those
fallacies detected, it is seen to be one of the most
contemptible books ever published ; and that, if
the principles it advocates were fairly carried into
effect, it would lead to the absurdest conduct in
practical life that can be imagined. Neverthe
less, these principles are so craftily exhibited,
there is such an air of candour and plausibility
in the mode of stating them, that it requires no
small skill in argument to disentangle the web of
sophisms. This book led to one of the most
triumphant refutations which the whole range of
English theology presents ; we mean the reply of
Bishop Conybeare, a work which deserves to be
far better known than it is, if only as affording
one of the richest logical treats to which an argu
mentative mind can be invited. His powers of
reasoning were of the highest order, and his
style possessed corresponding qualities of excel
lence. It is simple, terse, concise, and perspicu
ous in a very extraordinary degree. Whoever
would wish to see the difference between his intel-

Iii

AN ESSAY ON THE GENIUS AND WRITINGS, &c.

Iect and a far greater, would do well to peruse his
book in connexion with the remarks of Edwards
on the same subject. In a few pages, Edwards
has detected and exposed Tindal's principal
fallacies ; those fallacies, without which his whole
Structure of sophistry falls at once to the ground.
In Edwards's " Miscellaneous Observations" will
be found approaches to many theories which phi
losophy has since more fully established. This
polarity of mind, this intellectual magnetism
towards universal truth, has always been a charac
teristic of the greatest minds. By a species of
lofty divination, they have anticipated what it was
reserved for future ages, by a slow and toilsome
progress, to confirm.— From whatthey have known,
they have projected a little more of the mighty
sphere of truth. It was so with Bacon ; with New
ton ; with Locke ; and it was so with Edwards.
Such men are the prophets of a better dispensa
tion of philosophy, and see, in types, and shadows,
and veiled symbols, the glories of a coming age.
Thus we clearly perceive in Edwards's " Miscel
laneous Remarks," indications that he had already

embraced the modern theory of " causation;"
more fully propounded, though for the most in
sidious purposes, by Hume ; and since vindicated
from those pernicious consequences which Hume
would fain have attached to it. Let us compare
Edwards's definition of a cause with that of Dr.
Brown. They are absolutely identical. " A
cause," says Edwards, in his Notes on the mind,
" is that, after or upon the existence of which, or
the existence of it after such a manner, the ex
istence of another thing follows." Dr. Brown
defines it thus ; " A cause is that which imme
diately precedes any change ; and which existino-
at any time, in similar circumstances, has been
always, and will be always, immediately followed
by a similar change."
We have now finished the observations we had
to make on the writings of Jonathan Edwards. We
cannot conclude without observing, that they will
be found to possess, beyond most others, the two
fold merit of at once conveying valuable and
original thoughts, and of quickening and invigorat
ing the intellectual powers of the reader.

CAREFUL AND STRICT INQUIRY

MODERN PREVAILING NOTIONS

FREEDOM OF WILL,

WHICH IS SUPPOSED TO BE ESSENTIAL TO MORAL AGENCY, VIHTUE AND VICE,
REWARD AND PUNISHMENT, PRAISE AND BLAME.

Rom. ix. 16. It is not of him that willkth.

PREFACE.

Many find much fault with calling professing Christians, that differ one from another in some matters of opinion, by
distinct names ; especially calling them by the names of particular men, who have distinguished themselves as main-
tainers and promoters of those opinions : as calling some professing Christians Arminians, from AitMiNrus ; others
Arians, from Amus; others Socinians, from Socinus, and the like. They think it unjust in itself; as it
seems to suppose and suggest, that the persons marked out by these names, received those doctrines which they enter
tain, out of regard to, and reliance on, those men after whom they are named ; as though they made them their rule ; in
the same manner, as the followers of Chiiist are called Christians, after his name, whom they regard and depend
upon, as their great Head and Rule. Whereas, this is an unjust and groundless imputation on those that go under the
forementioned denominations. Thus, say they, there is not the least ground to suppose, that the chief divines, who
embrace the scheme of doctrine which is, by many, called Arminianism, believe it the more, because Arminius believed
it: and that there is no reason to think any other, than that they sincerely and impartially study the Holy Scriptures,
and inquire after the mind of Christ, with as much judgment and sincerity, as any of those that call them by these
names ; that they seek after truth, and are not careful whether they think exactly as Arminius did ; yea, that, in some
things, they actually differ from him. This practice is also esteemed actually injurious on this account, that it is sup
posed naturally to lead the multitude to imagine the difference between persons thus named, and others, to be greater
than it is ; so great, as if they were another species of beings. And they object against it as arising from an uncharitable,
narrow, contracted spirit ; which, they say, commonly inclines persons to confine all that is good to themselves, and
their own party, and to make a wide distinction between themselves and others, and stigmatize those that differ from
them with odious names. They say, moreover, that the keeping up such a distinction of names, has a direct tendency
to uphold distance and disaffection, and keep alive mutual hatred among Christians, who ought all to be united in
friendship and charity, though they cannot, in all things, think alike.
I confess, these things are very plausible ; and I will not deny, that there are some unhappy consequences of this
distinction of names, and that men's infirmities and evil dispositions often make an ill improvement of it. But yet, I
humbly conceive, these objections are carried far beyond reason. The generality of mankind are disposed enough, and
a great deal too much, to uncharitableness, and to be censorious and bitter towards those that differ from them in reli
gious opinions : which evil temper of mind will take occasion to exert itself from many things in themselves innocent,
useful, and necessary. But yet there is no necessity to suppose, that our thus distinguishing persons of different
opinions by different names, arises mainly from an uncharitable spirit, lt may arise from the disposition there is in
mankind (whom God has distinguished with an ability and inclination for speech) to improve the benefit of language,
in the proper use and design of names, given to things of which they have often occasion to speak, which is to enable
them to express their ideas with ease and expedition, without being encumbered with an obscure and difficult circum
locution. And our thus distinguishing persons of different opinions in religious matters may not imply any more, than
that there is a difference ; a difference of which we find we have often occasion to take notice : and it is always a defect
in language, in such cases, to be obliged to make use of a description, instead of a name. Thus we have often occa
sion to speak of those who are the descendants of the ancient inhabitants of France, in distinction from the descend
ants of the inhabitants of Spain ; and find the great convenience of those distinguishing words, French and Spaniards ;
by which the signification of our minds is quick and easy, and our speech is delivered from the burden of a continual
reiteration of diffuse descriptions, with which it must otherwise be embarrassed. -
That there is occasion to speak often concerning the difference of those, who in their general scheme of divinity agree
with these two noted men, Calvin and Arminius, is what the practice of the latter confesses ; who are often, in their
discourses and writings, taking notice of the supposed absurd and pernicious opinions of the former sort. And there
fore the making use of different names in this case cannot reasonably be objected against, as a thing which must come
from so bad a cause as they assign. It is easy to be accounted for, without supposing it to arise from any other
source, than the exigence of the case, whereby mankind express those things, which they have frequent occasion to
mention, by certain distinguishing names. It is an effect, similar to what we see in cases innumerable, where the cause
is not at all blameworthy.
Nevertheless, at first, I had thoughts of carefully avoiding the use of the appellation, Arminian, in this Treatise.
But I soon found I should be put to great difficulty by it; and that my discourse would be too much encumbered
with circumlocution, instead of a name, which would better express the thing intended. And therefore I must ask the
excuse of such as are apt to be offended with things of this nature, that I have so freely used the term Arminian in the
following Discourse. I profess it to be without any design to stigmatize persons of any sort with a name of reproach,
or at all to make them appear more odious. If, when I had occasion to speak of those divines who are commonly
called by this name, I had, instead of styling them Arminians, called them " these men," as Dr. Whitby does Cal-
vinistic divines, it probably would not have been taken any better, or thought to show a better temper, or more good
manners. I have done as I would be done by, in this matter. However the term Calvinistic is, in these aays, among
most, a term of greater reproach than the term Arminian ; yet I should not take it at all amiss, to be called a Cat-
vinist, for distinction's sake : though I utterly disclaim a dependence on Calvin, or believing the doctrines which I
hold, because he believed and taught them ; and cannot justly be charged with believing in every thing just as he
taught. -B 2

4 PREFACE.
But, lest I should really be an occasion of injury to some persons, I would here give notice, that though I generally
speak of that doctrine, concerning free-will and moral agency, which I oppose, as an Arminian doctrine ; yet I would
not be understood as asserting, that every divine or author, whom I have occasion to mention as maintaining that
doctrine, was properly an Arminian, or one of that sort which is commonly called by that name. Some of them went
far beyond the Arminians ; and I would by no means charge Arminians in general with all the corrupt doctrine which
these maintained. Thus, for instance, it would be very injurious, if I should rank Arminian divines, in general, with
such authors as Mr. Chubb. I doubt not, many of them have some of his doctrines in abhorrence ; though he agrees,
for the most part, with Arminians, in his notion of the Freedom of the Will. And, on the other hand, though I sup
pose this notion to be a leading article in the Arminian scheme, that which, if pursued in its consequences, will truly
infer, or naturally lead to all the rest ; yet I do not charge all that have held this doctrine, with being Arminians. For
whatever may be the consequences of the doctrine really, yet some that hold this doctrine, may not own nor see these
consequences ; and it would be unjust, in many instances, to charge every author with believing and maintaining all
the real consequences of his avowed doctrines. And I desire it may be particularly noted, that though I have occasion,
in the following Discourse, often to mention the author of the book, entitled An Essay on the Freedom of the Will, in
God and the Creature,* as holding that notion of Freedom of Will, which I oppose ; yet I do not mean to call him an
Arminian : however, in that doctrine he agrees with Arminians, and departs from the current and general opinion of
Calvinists. If the author of that Essay be the same as it is commonly ascribed to, he doubtless was not one that
ought to bear that name. But however good a divine he was in many 'respects, yet that particular Arminian doctrine
which he maintained, is never the better for being held by such an one : nor is there less need of opposing it on that
account, but rather more ; as it will be likely to have the more pernicious influence, for being taught by a divine of his
name and character ; supposing the doctrine to be wrong, and in itself to be of an ill tendency.
I have nothing further to say by way of preface ; but only to bespeak the reader's candour, and calm attention to
what I have written. The subject is of such importance, as to demand attention, and the most thorough consideration.
Of all kinds of knowledge that we can ever obtain, the knowledge of God, and the knowledge of ourselves, are the'
most important. As religion is the great business for which we are created, and on which our happiness depends ; and
as religion consists in an intercourse between ourselves and our Maker ; and so has its foundation in God's nature and
ours, and in the relation that God and we stand in to each other; therefore a true knowledge of both must be needful,
in order to true religion. But the knowledge of ourselves consists chiefly in right apprehensions concerning those two
chief faculties of our nature, the understanding and will. Both are very important : yet the science of the latter must
be confessed to be of greatest moment ; inasmuch as all virtue and religion have their seat more immediately in the
will, consisting more especially in right acts and habits of this faculty. And the grand question about the Freedom of
the Will, is the main point that belongs to the science of the Will. Therefore, I say, the importance of the subject
greatly demands the attention of Christians, and especially of divines. But as to my manner of handling the subject, I
would be far from presuming to say, that it is such as demands the attention of the reader to what I have written. I am
ready to own, that in this matter I' depend on the reader's courtesy. But only thus far I may have some colour for
putting in a claim ; that if the reader be disposed to pass his censure on what I have written, I may be fully and
patiently heard, and well attended to, before I am condemned. However, this is what I would humbly ask of my
readers ; together with the prayers of all sincere lovers of truth, that I may have much of that Spirit which Christ
promised his disciples, which guides into all truth ; and that the blessed and powerful influences of this Spirit would
make truth victorious in the world.

CAREFUL AND STRICT INQUIRY, &c.

PART I.
WHEREIN ARE EXPLAINED AND STATED VARIOUS TERMS AND THINGS BELONGING TO THE
SUBJECT OP THE ENSUING DISCOURSE.

SECTION I.
Concerning the Nature of the Will.
It may possibly be thought, that there is no great need
of going about to define or describe the Will ; this word
being generally as well understood as any other words we
can use to explain it : and so perhaps it would be, had
not philosophers, metaphysicians, and polemic divines,
brought the matter into obscurity by the things they have
said of it. But since it is so, I think it may be of some
use, and will tend to greater clearness in the following
discourse, to say a few things concerning it.
And therefore I observe, that the Will (without any
metaphysical refining) is, That by which the mind chooses

any thing. The faculty of the Will, is that power, or
principle of mind, by which it is capable of choosing : an
act of the Will is the same as an act of choosing or choice.
If any think it is a more perfect definition of the Will,
to say, that it is that by which the soul either chooses or
refuses ; I am content with it : though I think it enough
to say, It is that by which the soul chooses : for in every
act of Will whatsoever, the mind chooses one thing rather
than another; it chooses something rather than the con
trary, or rather than the want or non-existence of that thing.'
So in every act of refusal, the mind chooses the absence of
the thing refused ; the positive and the negative are set
before the mind for its choice, and it chooses the negative ;
and the mind's making its choice in that case is properly
the act of the Will : the Will's determining between the
two, is a voluntary determination; but that is the same

* This Essay has been generally ascribed to Dr. Watte, and is included in his works.— W.

Sect. I.

THE NATURE OF THE WILL.

thing as making a choice. So that by whatever names we
call the act of the Will, choosing, refusing, approving, dis
approving, liking, disliking, embracing, rejecting, deter
mining, directing, commanding, forbidding, inclining, or
being averse, being pleased or displeased with ; all may be
reduced to this of choosing. For the soul to act volun
tarily, is evermore to act electively.
Mr. Locke* says, " The Will signifies nothing but a
power or ability to prefer or choose." And, in the fore
going page, he says, " The word preferring seems best to
express the act of volition ;" but adds, that " it does it not
precisely ; for, though a man would prefer flying to walk
ing, yet who can say he ever wilts it ?" But the instance
he mentions, does not prove that there is any thing else in
willing, but merely preferring : for it should be considered
what Is the immediate' object of the Will, with respect to
a man's walking, or any other external action ; which is
not being removed from one place to another ; on the earth,
or through the air ; these are remoter objects of preference ;
but such or such an immediate exertion of himself. The
thing next chosen, or prefen-ed, when a man wills to walk,
is not his being removed to such a place where he would
be, but such an exertion and motion of his legs and feet,
&c. in order to it. And his willing such an alteration in
his body in the present moment, is nothing else but his
choosing or preferring such an alteration in his body at
such a moment, or his liking it better than the forbearance
of it. And God has so made and established the human
nature, the soul being united to a body in proper state,
that the soul preferring or choosing such an immediate
exertion or alteration of the body, such an alteration in
stantaneously follows. There is nothing else in the actions
of my mind, that I am conscious of while I walk, but only
my preferring or choosing, through successive moments,
that there should be such alterations of my external sen
sations and motions ; together with a concurring habitual
expectation that it will be so ; having ever found by ex
perience, that on such an immediate preference, such sen
sations and motions do actually, instantaneously, and con
stantly arise. But it is not so in the case of flying :
though a man may be said remotely to choose or prefer
flying; yet he does not prefer, or desire, under circum
stances in view, any immediate exertion of the members of
his body in order to it ; because he has no expectation that
he should obtain the desired end by any such exertion ;
and he does not prefer, or incline to, any bodily exertion,
under this apprehended circumstance, of its being wholly
in vain. So that if we carefully distinguish the proper ob
jects of the several acts of the Will, it will not appear by
this, and such like instances, that there is any difference
between volition and preference ; or that a man's choosing,
liking best, or being best pleased with a thing, are not the
same with his willing that thing. Thus an act of the Will
is commonly expressed by its pleasing a man to do thus or
thus ; and a man doing as he wills, and doing as he pleases,
are in common speech the same thing.
' Mr. Locket says, "The Will is perfectly distinguished
from Desire ; which in the very same action may have a
quite contrary tendency from that which our Wills sets us
upon. A man, says he, whom I cannot deny, may oblige
me to use persuasions to another, which, at the same time
I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. v In
this case, it is plain the Will and Desire run counter." I
do not suppose, that Will and Desire are words of pre
cisely the same signification : Will seems to be a word of
a more general signification, extending to things present
and absent. Desire respects something absent. I may
prefer my present situation and posture, suppose sitting
still, or having my eyes open, and so may will it. But yet
I cannot think they are so entirely distinct, that they can
ever be properly said to run counter. A man never, in
any instance, wills any thing contrary to his desires, or de
sires any thing contrary to his Will. The forementioned
instance, which Mr. Locke produces, is no proof that he
ever does. He may, on some consideration or other will
to utter speeches which have a tendency to persuade
another, and still may desire that they may not persuade
him ; but yet his Will and Desire do not run counter at
» Human Understanding. Edit. 7. vol. i. p. 1ST.

all : the thing which he wills, the very same he desires ;
and he does not will a thing, and desire the contrary, in
any particular. In this instance, it is not carefully ob
served, what is the thing willed, and what is the thing de
sired : if it were, it would be found, that Will and Desire
do not clash in the least. The thing willed on some con
sideration, is to utter such words ; and certainly, the same
consideration so influences him, that he does not desire the
contrary ; all things considered, he chooses to utter such
words, and does not desire not to utter them. And so as to
the thing which Mr. Locke speaks of as desired, viz.
That the words, though they tend to persuade, should not
be effectual to that end, his Will is not contrary to this ;
he does not will that they should be effectual, but rather
wills that they should not, as he desires. In order to
prove that the Will and Desire may run counter, it should
be shown that they may be contrary one to the other in
the same thing, or with respect to the very same object of
Will or Desire : but here the objects are two ; and in each,
taken by themselves, the Will and Desire agree. And it
is no wonder that they should not agree in different things,
though but little distinguished in their nature. The Will
may not agree with the Will, nor Desire agree with De
sire, in different things. As in this very instance which
Mr. Locke mentions, a person may, on some consideration,
desire to use persuasions, and at the same time may desire
they may not prevail ; but yet nobody will say, that De
sire runs counter to Desire; or that this proves that De
sire is perfectly a distinct thing from Desire- — The like
might be observed of the other instance Mr; Locke pro
duces, of a man's desiring to be eased of pain, &c.
But, not to dwell any longer on this, whether Desire and
Will, and whether Preference and Volition be precisely
the same things, I trust it will be allowed by all, that in
every act of Will there is an act of choice ; that in every
volition there is a preference, or a prevailing inclination of
the soul, whereby, at that instant, it is out of a state of
perfect indifference, with respect to the direct object 'of the
volition. So that in every act, or going forth of the Will,
there is some preponderation of the mind, one way rather
than another; and the soul had rather have or do one
thing, than another, or than not to have or do that thing ;
and that where there is absolutely no preferring or choos
ing, but a perfect, continuing equilibrium, there is no vo
lition.

SECT^ II.
Concerning the Determination of the Will.
By determining the Will, if the phrase be used with any
meaning, must be intended, causing that the act of the
Will or choice should be thus, and not otherwise : and the
Will is said to be determined, when, in consequence of
some action, or influence, its choice is directed to, and fixed
upon a particular object. As when we speak of the de
termination of motion, we mean causing the motion of the
body to be in such a direction, rather than another.
The Determination of the Will, supposes an effect,
which must have a cause. If the Will be determined,
there is a Determiner. This must be supposed to be in
tended even by them that say, The Will determines itself.
If it be so, the Will is both Determiner and determined ;
it is a cause that acts and produces effects upon itself, and
is the object of its own influence and action.
With respect to that grand inquiry, " What determines
the W ill V it would be very tedious and unnecessary, at
present, to examine all the various opinions, which have
been advanced concerning this matter ; nor is it needful
that. I should enter into a particular discussion of all
points debated in disputes on that other question, " Whe
ther the Will always follows the last dictate of the under
standing '!" It is sufficient to my present purpose to say,
It is that motive, which, as it stands in the view of the
mind, is the strongest, that determines the Wilt. But it
may be necessary that I should a little explain my
meaning. t Hum. Und. vol. i. p. 203, 2W.

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part I;

By motive, I mean the whole of that which moves, ex
cites, or invites the mind to volition, whether that be one
thing singly, or many things conjunctly. Many particular
things may concur, and unite their strength, to induce the
mind ; and when it is so, all together are as one complex
motive. And when I speak of the strongest motive, I
have respect to the strength of the whole that operates to
induce a particular act of volition, whether that be the
strength of one thing alone, or of many together.
Whatever is objectively * a motive, in this sense, must
be something that is extant in the view or apprehension of
the understanding, or perceiving faculty. Nothing can in
duce or invite the mind to will or act any thing, any further
than it is perceived, or is some way or other in the mind's
view; for what is wholly unperceived and perfectly out
of the mind's view, cannot affect the mind at all. It is
most evident, that nothing is in the mind, or reaches it, or
takes any hold of it, any otherwise than as it is perceived
or thought of.
And I think it must also be allowed by all, that every
thing that is properly called a motive, excitement, or in
ducement to a perceiving, willing agent, has some sort and
degree of tendency, or advantage to move or excite the
Will, previous to the effect, or to the act of the Will ex
cited. This previous tendency of the motive is what I
call the strength of the motive. That motive which has a
less degree of previous advantage, or tendency to move
the Will, or which appears less inviting, as it stands in the
view of the mind, is what I call a weaker motive. On the
contrary, that which appears most inviting, and has, by
what appears concerning it to the understanding or appre
hension, the greatest degree of previous tendency to excite
and induce the choice, is what I call the strongest motive.
And in this sense, I suppose the Will is always determined
by the strongest motive.
Things that exist in the view of the mind have their
strength, tendency, or advantage to move, or excite its
Will, from many things appertaining to the nature and
circumstances of the thing viewed, the nature and circum
stances of the mind that views, and the degree and manner
of its view ; of which it would perhaps be hard to make a
perfect enumeration. But so much I think may be de
termined in general, without room for controversy, that
whatever is perceived or apprehended by an intelligent
and voluntary agent, which has the nature and influence
of a motive to volition or choice, is considered or viewed
as good ; nor has it any tendency to engage the election of
the soul in any further degree than it appears such. For
to say otherwise, would be to say, that things that appear,
have a tendency, by the appearance they make, to engage
the mind to elect them, some other way than by their
appearing eligible to it ; which is absurd. And therefore
it must be true, in some sense, that the Will always is,
as the greatest apparent good is. But only, for the right
understanding of this, two things must be well and dis
tinctly observed.
1. It must be observed in what sense I use the term
" good ;" namely, as of the same import with " agreeable."
To appear good to the mind, as I use the phrase, is the
same as to appear agreeable, or seem pleasing to the mind.
Certainly, nothing appears inviting and eligible to the
mind, or tending to engage its inclination and choice, con
sidered as evil or disagreeable ; nor indeed, as indifferent,
and neither agreeable nor disagreeable. But if it tends
to draw the inclination, and move the Will, it must be
under the notion of that which suits the mind. And there
fore that must have the greatest tendency to attract and
engage it, which as it stands in the mind's view, suits it
best, and pleases it most ; and in that sense, is the greatest
apparent good : to say otherwise, is little, if any thing,
short of a direct and plain contradiction.
The word " good," in this sense, includes in its signifi
cation, the removal or avoiding of evil, or of that which is
disagreeable and uneasy. It is agreeable and pleasing, to
avoid what is disagreeable and displeasing, and to have
* This appears to be the author's meaning, in order to preserve a con
sistency with his professed sentiment of divine influence. He believed that
a real Christian's mind is born of the Spirit; and that such a state of mind
induces one choice rather than another. But he could not maintain that
divine influence, which is a subjective cause of one volition rather than
another, must be " in the view or apprehension of the understanding." For

uneasiness removed. So that here is included what Mr.
Locke supposes determines the Will. For when he speaks
of " uneasiness," as determining the Will, he must be under
stood as supposing that the end or aim which governs in
the volition or act of preference, is the avoiding or the
removal of that uneasiness ; and that is the same thing as
choosing and seeking what is more easy and agreeable.
2. When I say, that the Will is as the greatest apparent
good, or, (as I have explained it,) that volition has always
for its object the thing which appears most agreeable ; it
must be carefully observed, to avoid confusion and needless
objection, that 1 speak of the direct and immediate object
of the act of volition ; and not some object to which the
act of Will has only an indirect and remote respect. Many
acts of volition have some remote relation to an object,
that is different from the thing most immediately willed
and chosen. Thus, when a drunkard has his liquor before
him, and he has to choose whether to drink it, or no ; the
immediate objects, about which his present volition is con
versant, and between which his choice now decides, are his
own acts, in drinking the liquor, or letting it alone ; and
this will certainly be done according to what, in the present
view of his mind, taken in the whole of it, is most agree
able to him. If he chooses to drink it, and not to let it
alone ; then this action, as it stands in the view of his
mind, with all that belongs to its appearance there, is more
agreeable and pleasing than letting it alone.
But the objects to which this act of volition may relate
more remotely, and between which his choice may deter
mine more indirectly, are the present pleasure the man
expects by drinking, and the future misery which he
judges will be the consequence of it : he may judge that
this future misery, when it comes, will be more disagreeable
and unpleasant, than refraining from drinking now would
be. But these two things are not the proper objects that
the act of volition spoken of is next conversant about.
For the act of Will spoken of, is concerning present drink
ing, or forbearing to drink. If he wills to drink, then
drinking is the proper object of the act of his Will ; and
drinking, on some account or other, now appears most
agreeable to him, and suits him best. If he chooses to
refrain, then refraining is the immediate object of his
Will, and is most pleasing to him. If in the choice he
makes in the case, ne prefers a present pleasure to a future
advantage, which he judges will be greater when it comes;
then a lesser present pleasure appears more agreeable to
him than a greater advantage at a distance. If on the
contrary a future advantage is preferred, then that appears
most agreeable, and suits him best. And so still, the pre
sent volition is, as the greatest apparent good at present is.
I have rather chosen to express myself thus, " that the
Will always is as the greatest apparent good," or " as what
appears most agreeable," than to say " that the Will is de
termined by the greatest apparent good," or " by what seems
most agreeable ;" because an appearing most agreeable to
the mind, and the mind's preferring, seem scarcely distinct.
If strict propriety of speech be insisted on, it may more
properly be said, that the voluntary action, which is the
immediate consequence of the mind's choice, is determined
by that which appears most agreeable, than the choice it
self; but that volition itself is always determined by that
in or about the mind's view of the object, which causes it
to appear most agreeable. I say, " in or about the mind's
view of the object;" because what has influence to render
an object in view agreeable, is not only what appears in the
object viewed, but also the manner of the view and the state
and circumstances of the mind that views. Particularly to
enumerate all things pertaining to the mind's view of the
objects of volition, which have influence in their appearing
agreeable to the mind, would be a matter of no small
difficulty, and might require a treatise by itself, and is not
necessary to my present purpose. I shall therefore only
mention some things in general.
I. One thing that makes an object proposed to choice
agreeable, is the apparent nature and circumstances of the
" the wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hcarest the sound thereof
put canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth : so is every one
that is born of the Spirit," Beside, the most proper acceptation of the
term " motive " seems to plead in favour of the restriction suggested in the
text by the word " objectively;" and the use of this distinction may ap
pear more fully hereafter.— W. '

Sect. II.

WHAT DETERMINES THE WILL.

object. And there are various things of this sort, that
have influence in rendering the object more or less agree
able ; as,
1. That which appears in the object, rendering it beauti
ful and pleasant, or deformed and irksome to the mind ;
viewing it as it is in itself.
2. The apparent degree of pleasure or trouble attending
the object, or the consequence of it. Such concomitants
and consequences being viewed as circumstances of the
object, are to be considered as belonging to it ; and as it
were parts of it, as it stands in the mind's view a pro
posed object of choice.
3. The apparent state of the pleasure or trouble that
appears, with respect to distance of time; being either
nearer or farther off. It is a thing in itself agreeable to the
mind, to have pleasure speedily ; and disagreeable, to
have it delayed : so that if there be two equal degrees of
pleasure set in the mind's view, and all other things are
equal, but one is beheld as near, and the other afar off;
the nearer will appear most agreeable, and so will be
chosen. Because, though the agreeableness of the objects
be exactly equal, as viewed in themselves, yet not as
viewed in their circumstances ; one of them having the
additional agreeableness of the circumstance of nearness.
II. Another thing that contributes to the agreeableness
of an object of choice, as it stands in the mind's view, is
the manner of the view. If the object be something which
appears connected with future pleasure, not only will the
degree of apparent pleasure have influence, but also the
manner of the view, especially in two respects.
1 . With respect to the degree of assent, with which the
mind judges the pleasure to be future. Because it is
more agreeable to have a certain happiness, than an uncer
tain one; and a pleasure viewed as more probable, all
other things being equal, is more agreeable to the mind,
than that which is viewed as less probable.
2. With respect to the degree of the idea or apprehen
sion of the future pleasure. With regard to things which
are the subject of our thoughts, either past, present, or
future, we have much more of an idea or apprehension of
some things than others ; that is, our idea is much more
clear, lively, and strong. Thus the ideas we have of sen
sible things by immediate sensation, are usually much
more lively than those we have by mere imagination, or by
contemplation of them when absent. My idea of the sun
when I look upon it is more vivid, than when I only think
of it. Our idea of the sweet relish of a delicious fruit is
usually stronger when we taste it, than when we only
imagine it. And sometimes, the idea we have of things
by contemplation, are much stronger and clearer, than at
other times. Thus, a man at one time has a much stronger
idea of the pleasure which is to be enjoyed in eating some
sort of food that he loves, than at another. Now the
strength of the idea or the sense that men have of future
good or evil, is one thing that has great influence on their
minds to excite volition. When two kinds of future
pleasure are presented for choice, though both are sup
posed exactly equal by the judgment, and both equally
certain, yet of one the mind has a far more lively sense,
than of the other ; this last has the greatest advantage by
far to affect and attract the mind, and move the Will. It
is now more agreeable to the mind, to take the pleasure
of which it has a strong and lively sense, than that of
which it has only a faint idea. The view of the former is
attended with the strongest appetite, and the greatest un
easiness attends the want of it ; and it is agreeable to the
mind to have uneasiness removed, and its appetite grati
fied. And if several future enjoyments are presented to
gether, as competitors for the choice of the mind, some of
them judged to be greater, and others less ; the mind also
having a more lively idea of the good of some, and of
others a less ; and some are viewed as of greater certainty
or probability than others ; and those enjoyments that ap
pear most agreeable in one of these respects, appear least
so in others : in this case, all other things being equal, the
agreeableness of a proposed object of choice will be in a
degree some way compounded of the degree of good sup
posed by the judgment, the degree of apparent probability
or certainty of that good, and the degree of liveliness of
the idea the mind has of that good ; because all together

concur to constitute the degree in which the object appears
at present agreeable ; and accordingly will volition be de
termined. I might further observe, that the state of the mind which
views a proposed object of choice, is another thing that
contributes to the agreeableness or disagreeableness of that
object ; the particular temper which the mind has by
nature, or that has been introduced and established by
education, example, custom, or some other means ; or the
frame or state that the mind is in on a particular occasion.
That object which appears agreeable to one, does not so to
another. And the same object does not always appear
alike agreeable to the same person, at different times. It
is most agreeable to some men, to follow their reason ; and
to others, to follow their appetites : to some men, it is more
agreeable to deny a vicious inclination, than to gratify it;
others it suits best to gratify the vilest appetites. It is
more disagreeable to some men than others, to counteract
a former resolution. In these respects, and many others
which might be mentioned, different things will be most
agreeable to different persons ; and not only so, but to the
same persons at different times.
But possibly it is needless to mention the " state of the
mind," as a ground of the agreeableness of objects distinct
from the other two mentioned before ; viz. The apparent
nature and circumstances of the objects viewed, and the
manner of the view. Perhaps, if we strictly consider the
matter, the different temper and state of the mind makes
no alteration as to the agreeableness of objects, any other
way, than as it makes the objects themselves appear dif
ferently beautiful or deformed, having apparent pleasure or
pain attending them ; and, as it occasions the manner of
the view to be different, causes the idea of beauty or de
formity, pleasure or uneasiness, to be more or less lively.
However, I think so much is certain, that volition, in no
one instance that can be mentioned, is otherwise than the
greatest apparent good is, in the manner which has been
explained. The choice of the mind never departs from
that which, at the time, and with respect to the direct and
immediate objects of decision, appears most agreeable and
pleasing, all things considered. If the immediate objects
of the Will are a man's own actions, then those actions
which appear most agreeable to him he wills. If it be
now most agreeable to him, all things considered, to walk,
then he now wills to walk. If it be now, upon the whole
of what at present appears to him, most agreeable to speak,
then he chooses to speak ; if it suits him best to keep
silence, then he chooses to keep silence. There is scarcely
a plainer and more universal dictate of the sense and ex
perience of mankind, than that, when men act voluntarily,
and do what they please, then they do what suits them
best, or what is most agreeable to them. To say, that they
do what pleases them, but yet not what is agreeable to
them, is the same thing as to say, they do what they please,
but do not act their pleasure ; and that is to say, that
they do what they please, and yet do not what they please.
It appears from these things, that in some sense, the
Will always follows the last dictate of the understanding.
But then the understanding must be taken in a large sense,
as including the whole faculty of perception or apprehen
sion, and not merely what is called reason or judgment. If
by the dictate of the understanding is meant what reason
declares to be best, or most for the person's happiness,
taking in the whole of its duration, it is not true, that the
Will always follows the last dictate of the understanding.
Such a dictate of reason is quite a different matter from
things appearing now most agreeable, all things being put
together which pertain to the mind's present perceptions in
any respect: although that dictate of reason, when it takes
place, has concern in the compound influence which moves
the Will ; and should be considered in estimating the
degree of that appearance of good which the Will always
follows ; either as having its influence added to other
things, or subducted from them. When such dictate of
reason concurs with other things, then its weight is added
to them, as put into the same scale ; but when it is against
them, it is as a weight in the opposite scale, resisting the
influence of other things : yet its resistance is often over
come by their greater weight, and so the act of the Will is
determined in opposition to it.

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part 1.

These things may serve, I hope, in some measure, to
illustrate and confirm the position laid down in the be
ginning of this section, viz. " That the Will is always
determined by the strongest motive," or by that view of
the mind which has the greatest degree of previous ten
dency to excite volition. But whether I nave been so
happy as rightly to explain the thing wherein consists the
strength of motives, or not, yet my failing in this will not
overthrow the position itself; which carries much of its
own evidence with it, and is a point of chief importance
to the purpose of the ensuing discourse : And the truth of
it, I hope, will appear with great clearness, before I have
finished what I have to say on the subject of human
liberty.

SECT. III.
Concerning the meaning of the terms, Necessity, Impos
sibility, Inability, eye. and of Contingence.
The words necessary, impossible, eye are abundantly used
in controversies about Free-Will and Moral Agency ; and
therefore the sense in which they are used should be
clearly understood.
Here I might say, that a thing is then said to be necessary,
when it must be, and cannot be otherwise. But this would
not properly be a definition of Necessity, any more than if
I explained the word must, by the phrase, there being a
Necessity. The words must, can, and cannot, need expli
cation as much as the words necessary, and impossible ;
excepting that the former are words that in earliest life we
more commonly use.
The word necessary, as used in common speech, is a re
lative term ; and relates to some supposed opposition made
to the existence of a thing, which opposition is overcome,
or proves insufficient to hinder or alter it. That is neces
sary, in the original and proper sense of the word, which
is, or will be, notwithstanding all supposable opposition.
To say, that a thing is necessary, is the same thing as to
say, that it is impossible it should not be. But the word
impossible is manifestly a relative term, and has reference
to supposed power exerted to bring a thing to pass, which
is insufficient for the effect ; as the word unable is relative,
and has relation to ability, or endeavour, which is insuffi
cient. Also the word irresistible is relative, and has al
ways reference to resistance which is made, or may be
made, to some force or power tending to an effect, and is
insufficient to withstand the power, or hinder the effect.
The common notion of Necessity and Impossibility im
plies something that frustrates endeavour or desire.
Here several things are to be noted.
1 . Things are said to be necessary in general j which are
or will be notwithstanding any supposable opposition from
whatever quarter. But things are said to be necessary to
us, which are or will be notwithstanding all opposition sup
posable in the case from us. The same may be observed
of the word impossible, and other such like terms.
2. These terms necessaty, impossible, irresistible, fyc. more
especially belong to controversies about liberty and moral
agency, as used in the latter of the two senses now men
tioned, viz. as necessary or impossible to us, and with re
lation to any supposable opposition or endeavour of ours.
3. As the word Necessity, in its vulgar and common use,
is relative, and has always reference to some supposable
insufficient opposition ; so when we speak of any thing as
necessary to us, it is with relation to some supposable op
position of our Wills, or some voluntary exertion or effort
of ours to the contrary. For we do not properly make op
position to an event, any otherwise than as we voluntarily
oppose it. Things are said to be what must be, or neces
sarily are, as to us, when they are, or will be, though we
desire or endeavour the contrary, or try to prevent or re
move their existence : but such opposition of ours always
either consists in, or implies, opposition of our wills.
It is manifest that all such like words and phrases, as
vulgarly used, are understood in this manner. A thing is
said to be necessary, when we cannot help it, let us do
what we will. So any thing is said to be impossible to us,
when we would do it, or would have it brought to pass,

and endeavour it ; or at least may be supposed to desire
and seek it; but all our desires and endeavours are, or
would be, vain. And that is said to be irresistible, which
overcomes all our opposition, resistance, and endeavour to
the contrary. And we are said to be unable to do a thing,
when our supposable desires and endeavours are insuf
ficient. We are accustomed, in the common use of language,
thus to apply and understand these phrases : we grow up
with such a habit ; which, by the daily use of these terms
from our childhood, becomes fixed and settled; so that the
idea of a relation to a supposed will, desire, and endea
vour of ours, is strongly connected with these terms, when
ever we hear the words used. Such ideas, and these
words, are so associated, that they unavoidably go together ;
one suggests the other, and never can be easily separated
as long as we live. And though we use the words, as
terms of art, in another sense, yet, unless we are exceed
ingly circumspect, we shall insensibly slide into the vulgar
use of them, and so apply the words in a very inconsist
ent manner, which will deceive and confound us in our
reasonings and discourses, even when we pretend to use
them as terms of art.
4. It follows from what has been observed, that when
these terms necessary, impossible, irresistible, unable, t)c. are
used in cases wherein no insufficient will is supposed, or
can be supposed, but the very nature of the supposed case
itself excludes any opposition, will, or endeavour, they are
then not used in their proper signification. The reason is
manifest ; in such cases we cannot use the words with re?
ference to a supposable opposition, will, or endeavour. And
therefore if any. man uses these terms in such cases, he
either uses them nonsensically, or in some new sense, di
verse from their original and proper meaning. ¦ As for in
stance ; if any one should affirm after this manner, That it is
necessary for a man, or what must be, that he should choose
virtue rather than vice, during the time that he prefers virtue.
to vice ; and that it is a thing impossible and irresistible,
that it should be otherwise than that he should have this
choice, so long as this choice continues ; such a one would
use the terms must, irresistible, fyc. with either perfect in
significance, or in some new sense, diverse from their com
mon use ; which is with reference, as has been observed;
to supposable opposition, unwillingness, and resistance;
whereas, here, the very supposition excludes and denies
any such thing : for the case supposed is that of being
willing, and choosing.
5. It appears from what has been said, that these terms
necessary, impossible, eye are often used by philosophers and
metaphysicians in a sense quite diverse from their common
and original signification ; for they apply them to many
cases in which no opposition is supposable. Thus they
use them with respect to God's existence before the creation
of the world, when there was no other being ; with regard to
many of the dispositions and acts of the divine Being, such
as his loving himself, his loving righteousness, hating
sin, &c. So they apply them to many cases of the incli
nations and actions of created intelligent beings wherein all
opposition of the Will is excluded in the very supposition
of the case.
Metaphysical or philosophical Necessity is nothing dif
ferent from their certainty. I speak not now of the cer^
tainty of knowledge, but the certainty that is in things
themselves, which is the foundation of the certainty of the
knowledge, or that wherein lies the ground of the infalli
bility of the proposition which affirms them.
Whatis sometimes givenas the definition of philosophical
Necessity, namely, " That by which a thing cannot but be,"
or " whereby it cannot be otherwise," fails of being a proper
explanation of it, on two accounts : First, the words can,
or cannot, need explanation as much as the word Necessity;
and the former may as well be explained by the latter, as
the latter by the former. Thus, if any one asked us what
we mean, when we say, a thing cannot but be, we might
explain ourselves by saying, it must necessarily be so ; as
well as explain Necessity, by saying, it is that 'by which a
thing cannot but be. And Secondly, this definition is liable
to the fore-mentioned great inconvenience ; the words can
not, or unable, are properly relative, and have relation to
power exerted, or that may be exerted, in order to the thing

Sect. III.

THE NATURE OF NECESSITY.

spoken of; to which as I have now observed, the word
Necessity, as used by philosophers, has no reference.
Philosophical Necessity is really nothing else than the
TULL AND PIXED CONNEXION BETWEEN THE THINGS SIG
NIFIED BY THE SUBJECT AND PREDICATE OP A PROPOSI
TION, which affirms something to be true. When there is
such a connexion, then the thing affirmed in the proposition
is necessary, in a philosophical sense; whether any oppo
sition or contrary effort be supposed, or no. When the
subject and predicate of the proposition, which affirms the
existence of any thing, either substance, quality, act, or
circumstance, have a full and certain connexion, then
the existence or being of that thing is said to be necessary
in a metaphysical sense. And in this sense I use the
¦word necessity, in the following discourse, when I en
deavour to prove that necessity is not inconsistent with
liberty. The subject and predicate of a proposition, which af
firms existence of something, may have a full, fixed, and
certain connexion several ways.
(1 .) They may have a full and perfect connexion in and
of themselves ; because it may imply a contradiction, or
gross absurdity, to suppose them not connected. Thus
many things are necessary in their own nature. So the
eternal existence of being generally considered, is necessary
in itself: because it would be in itself the greatest ab
surdity, to deny the existence of being in general, or to
¦say there was absolute and universal nothing ; and is as it
were the sum of all contradictions ; as might be shown,
if this were a proper place for it. So God's infinity and
other attributes are necessary. So it is necessary in its own
nature, that two and two should be four ; and it is neces
sary, that all right lines drawn from the centre of a circle
to the circumference should be equal. It is necessary, fit,
and suitable, that men should do to others, as they would
that they should do to them. So innumerable metaphysi
cal and mathematical truths are necessary in themselves :
the subject and predicate of the proposition which affirms
them, are perfectly connected of themselves.
(2.) The connexion of the subject and predicate of a
E reposition, which affirms the existence of something, may
e fixed and made certain, because the existence of that
thing is already come to pass ; and either now is, or has
been; and so has, as it were, made sure of existence.
And therefore, the proposition which affirms present and
•past existence of it, may by this means be made certain,
and necessarily and unalterably true ; the past event has
-fixed and decided the matter, as to its existence ; and has
made it impossible but that existence should be truly pre
dicated of it. Thus the existence of whatever is already
come to pass, is now become necessary ; it is become im
possible it should be otherwise than true, that such a thing
nas been.
(3.) The subject and predicate of a proposition which
affirms something to be, may have a real and certain con
nexion consequentially ; and so the existence of the thing
may be consequentially necessary ; as it may be surely
ft and firmly connected with something else, that is necessary
in one oif the former respects. As it is either fully and
thoroughly connected with that which is absolutely neces
sary in its own nature, or with something which has
already received and made sure of existence. This
Necessity lies in, or may be explained by, the connexion of
two or more propositions one with another.  Things
which are perfectly connected with other things that are
necessary, are necessary themselves, by a Necessity of
consequence. And here it may be observed, that all things whicn are
future, or which will hereafter begin to be, which can be
said to be necessary, are necessary only in this last way.
Their existence is not necessary in itself; for if so, they
always would have existed. Nor is their existence become
necessary by being already come to pass. Therefore, the
only way that any thing that is to come to pass hereafter,
is or can be necessary, is by a connexion with something
that is necessary in its own nature, or something that
already is, or has been ; so that the one being supposed,
the other certainly follows.— And this also is the only way
that all things past, excepting those which were from
eternity, could be necessary before they come to pass ; and

therefore the only way in which any effect or event, or any
thing whatsoever that ever has had or will have a begin
ning, has come into being necessarily, or will hereafter
necessarily exist. And therefore this is the Necessity
which especially belongs to controversies about the acts of
the will .
It may be of some use in these controversies, further to
observe concerning metaphysical Necessity, that (agreeable
to the distinction before observed of Necessity, as vulgarly
understood) things that exist may be said to be necessary,
either with a general or particular Necessity. The exist
ence of a thing may be said to be necessary with a general
Necessity, when, all things considered, there is a founda
tion for the certainty of their existence ; or when in the
most general and universal view of things, the subject and
predicate of the proposition, which affirms its existence,
would appear with an infallible connexion.
An event, or the existence of a thing, may be said to be
necessary with a particular Necessity, when nothing that
can be taken into consideration, in or about a person, thing,
or time, alters the case at all, as to the certainty of an
event, or the existence of a thing ; or can be of any ac
count at all, in determining the infallibility of the connexion
of the subject and predicate in the proposition which affirms
the existence of the thing ; so that it is all one, as to that
person, or thing, at least, at that time, as if the existence
were necessary with a Necessity that is most universal
and absolute. Thus there are many things that happen to
particular persons, in the existence of which no will of
theirs has any concern, at least, at that time; which,
whether they are necessary or not, -with regard to things
in general, yet are necessary to them, and with regard to any
volition of theirs at that time ; as they prevent all acts of the
will about the affair.  1 shall have occasion to apply this
observation to particular instances in the following dis
course  Whether the same things that are necessary with
a particular Necessity, be not also necessary with a ge-
neral Necessity, may be a matter of future consideration.
Let that be as it will, it alters not the case, as to the use of
this distinction of the kinds of Necessity.
These things may be sufficient for the explaining of the
terms necessary and Necessity, as terms of art, and as often
used by metaphysicians, and controversial writers in di
vinity, in a sense diverse from, and more extensive than,
their original meaning, in common language, which was
before explained.
What lias been said to show the meaning of the terms
necessary and necessity, may be sufficient for the explain
ing of the opposite terms, impossible and impossibility. For
there is no difference, but only the latter are negative, and
the former positive. Impossibility is the same as negative
Necessity, or a Necessity that a thing should not be. And
it is used as a term of art in a like diversity from the ori
ginal and vulgar meaning, with Necessity.
The same may be observed concerning the words unable
and Inability. It has been observed, that these terms, in
their original and common use, have relation to will and
endeavour, as supposable in the case, and as insufficient
for the bringing to pass the thing willed and endeavoured.
But as these terms are often used by philosophers and
divines, especially writers on controversies about Free
Will, they are used in a quite different and far more ex
tensive sense, and are applied to many cases wherein no
will or endeavour for the bringing of the thing to pass is
or can be supposed.
As the words necessary, impossible, unable, Sfc. are used
by polemic writers, in a sense diverse from their common
signification, the like has happened to the term contin
gent: Any thing is said to be contingent, or to come to
pass by chance or accident, in the original meaning of such
words, when its connexion with its causes or antecedents,
according to the established course of things, is not dis
cerned; and so is what we have no means of foreseeing.
And especially is any thing said to be contingent, or acci
dental, with regard to us, when it comes to pass without
our foreknowledge, and besides our design and scope.
But the word contingent is abundantly used in a very
different sense; not for that whose connexion with the
series of things we cannot discern, so as to foresee the
event, but for something which has absolutely no previous

10

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part I.

ground or reason, with which its existence has any fixed
and certain connexion.

SECT. IV.
Of the distinction of natural and moral Necessity, and
Inability.
That Necessity which has been explained, consisting in
an infallible connexion of the thmgs signified by the sub
ject and predicate of a proposition, as intelligent beings
are the subjects of it, is distinguished into moral and na
tural Necessity.
I shall not now stand to inquire whether this distinction
be a proper and perfect distinction ; but shall only explain
how these two sorts of Necessity are understood, as the
terms are sometimes used, and as they are used in the
following discourse.
The phrase, moral Necessity, is used variously : some
times it is used for a Necessity of moral obligation. So
we say, a man is under Necessity, when he is under bonds
of duty and conscience, from which he cannot be dis
charged. Again, the word Necessity is often used for great
obligation in point of interest. Sometimes by moral Ne
cessity is meant that apparent connexion of things, which
is the ground of moral evidence ; and so is distinguished
from absolute Necessity, or that sure connexion of things,
that is a foundation for infallible certainty. In this sense,
moral Necessity signifies much the same as that high de
gree of probability, which is ordinarily sufficient to satisfy
mankind, in their conduct and behaviour in the world, as
they would consult their own safety and interest, and treat
others properly as members of society. And sometimes
by moral Necessity is meant that Necessity of connexion
and consequence, which arises from such moral causes, as
the strength of inclination, or motives, and the connexion
which there is in many cases between these and such
certain volitions and actions. !\nd it is in this sense, that
I use the phrase, moral necessity, in the following dis
course. By natural Necessity, as applied to men, I mean such
Necessity as men are under through the force of natural
causes ; as distinguished from what are called moral
causes, such as habits and dispositions of the heart, and
moral motives and inducements. Thus men, placed in
certain circumstances, are the subjects of particular sensa
tions by Necessity : they feel pain when their bodies are
wounded ; they see the objects presented before them in
a clear light, when their eyes are opened : so they assent
to the truth of certain propositions, as soon as the terms
are understood ; as that two and two make four, that
black is not white, that two parallel lines can never cross
one another ; so by a natural Necessity men's bodies move
downwards, when there is nothing to support them.
But here several things may be noted concerning these
two kinds of Necessity.
1 . Moral Necessity may be as absolute as natural Ne
cessity. That is, the effect may be as perfectly connected
with its moral cause, as a natural, necessary effect is with
its natural cause. Whether the Will in every case is ne
cessarily determined by the strongest motive, or whether
the Will ever makes any resistance to such a motive, or
can ever oppose the strongest present inclination, or not ;
if that matter should be controverted, yet I suppose none
will deny, but that, in some cases, a previous bias and
inclination, or the motive presented, may be so powerful,
that the act of the Will may be certainly and indissolubly
connected therewith. When motives or previous bias are
very strong, all will allow that there is some difficulty in
going against them. And if they were yet stronger, the
difficulty would be still greater. And therefore, if more
were still added to their strength, to a certain degree, it
would make the difficulty so great, that it would be wholly
impossible to surmount it ; for this plain reason, because
whatever power men may be supposed to have to sur
mount difficulties, yet that power is . not infinite ; and so
goes not beyond certain limits. If a man can surmount
ten degrees of difficulty of this kind with twenty degrees
of strength, because the degrees of strength are beyond the

degrees of difficulty ; yet if the difficulty be increased to
thirty, or an hundred, or a thousand degrees, and his
strength not also increased, his strength will be wholly
insufficient to surmount the difficulty. As therefore it
must be allowed, that there may be such a thing as a sure
and perfect connexion between moral causes and effects;
so this only is what I call by the name of moral Necessity.
2. When I use this distinction of moral and natural
Necessity, I would not be understood to suppose, that if
any thing come to pass by the former kind of Necessity,
the nature of things is not concerned in it, as well as in the
latter. I do not mean to determine, that when a moral
habit or motive is so strong, that the act of the Will infal
libly follows, this is not owing to the nature of things.
But natural and moral are the terms by which these two
kinds of Necessity have usually been called ; and they
must be distinguished by some names, for there is a dif
ference between them, that is very important in its conse
quences. This difference, however, does not lie so much
in the nature of the connexion, as in the two terms con
nected. The cause with which the effect is connected, is
of a particular kind ; viz. that which is of a moral nature ;
either some previous habitual disposition, or some motive
exhibited to the understanding. And the effect is also of
a particular kind; being likewise of a moral nature; con
sisting in some inclination or volition of the soul, or
voluntary action.
I suppose, that Necessity which is called natural in dis
tinction from moral Necessity, is so called, because mere
nature, as the word is vulgarly used, is concerned, without
any thing of choice. The word nature is often used in
opposition to choice ; not because nature has indeed never
any hand in our choice ; but, probably, because we first
get our notion of nature from that obvious course of events,
which we observe in many things where our choice has no
concern ; and especially in the material world ; which, in
very many parts of it, we easily perceive to be in a settled
course ; the stated order, and manner of succession, being
very apparent. But where we do not readily discern the
rule and connexion, (though there be a connexion, accord
ing to an established law, truly taking place,) we signify the
manner of event by some other name. Even in many
things which are seen in the material and inanimate world,
which do not obviously come to pass according to any
settled course, men do not call the manner of the event by
the name of nature, but by such names as accident, chance,
contingence, i)c. So men make a distinction between
nature and choice ; as if they were completely and uni
versally distinct. Whereas, I suppose none will deny but
that choice, in many cases, arises from nature, as truly as
other events. But the connexion between acts of choice,
and their causes, according to established laws, is not so
obvious. And we observe that choice is, as it were, a
new principle of motion and action, different from that
established order of things which is most obvious, and
seen especially in corporeal things. The choice also often
interposes, interrupts, and alters the chain of events in these
external objects, and causes them to proceed otherwise
than they would do, if let alone. Hence it is spoken of as
if it were a principle of motion entirely distinct from
nature, and properly set in opposition to it. Names being
commonly given to things, according to what is most ob
vious, and is suggested by what appears to the senses
without reflection and research.
3. It must be observed, that in what has been explain
ed, as signified by the name of moral Necessity, the word
Necessity is not used according to the original design and
meaning of the word : for, as was observed before, such
terms, necessary, impossible, irresistible, ifc. in common
speech, and their most proper sense, are always relative ;
having reference to some supposable voluntary opposition
or endeavour, that is insufficient. But no such opposition,
or contrary will and endeavour, is supposable in the case
of moral Necessity ; which is a certainty of the inclination
and will itself; which does not admit of the supposition of
a will to oppose and resist it. For it is absurd, to suppose
the same individual will to oppose itself, in its present
act ; or the present choice to be opposite to and resisting
present choice : as absurd as it is to talk of two contrary
motions, in the same moving body, at the same time. —

Sect. IV.

OF NATURAL AND MORAL INABILITY.

11

And therefore the very case supposed never admits of any
trial, whether an opposing or resisting will can overcome
this Necessity.
What has been said of natural and moral Necessity,
may serve to explain what is intended by natural and
moral Inability. We are said to be naturally unable to do
a thing, when we cannot do it if we will, because what is
most commonly called nature does not allow of it, or be
cause of some impeding defect or obstacle that is extrinsic
to the Will ; either in the faculty of understanding, consti
tution of body, or external objects. Moral Inability con
sists not in any of these things ; but either in the want of
inclination ; or the strength of a contrary inclination ; or
the want of sufficient motives in view, to induce and ex
cite the act of the Will, or the strength of apparent motives
to the contrary. Or both these may be resolved into one ;
and it may be said in one word, that moral Inability con
sists in the opposition or want of inclination . For when a
person is unable to will or choose such a thing, through a
defect of motives, or prevalence of contrary motives, it is
the same thing as his being unable through the want of an
inclination, or the prevalence of a contrary inclination, in
such circumstances, and under the influence of such views.
To give some instances of this moral Inability. — A
woman of great honour and chastity may have a moral
Inability to prostitute herself to her slave. A child of
great love and duty to his parents, may be thus unable to
kill his father. A very lascivious man, in case of certain
opportunities and temptations, and in the absence of such
and such restraints, may be unable to forbear gratifying his
lust. A drunkard, under such and such circumstances,
may be unable to forbear taking strong drink. A very
malicious man may be unable to exert benevolent acts to
an enemy, or to desire his prosperity ; yea, some may be
so under the power of a vile disposition, that they may be
unable to love those who are most worthy of their esteem
and affection. A strong habit of virtue, and a great degree
of holiness, may cause a moral Inability to love wicked
ness in general, and may render a man unable to take com
placence in wicked persons or things ; or to choose a wick
ed in preference to a virtuous life. And on the other hand,
a great degree of habitual wickedness may lay a man under
an Inability to love and choose holiness ; and render him
utterly unable to love an infinitely holy Being, or to choose
and cleave to him as his chief good.
Here it may be of use to observe this distinction of
moral Inability, viz. of that which is general and habitual,
and that which is particular and occasional. By a general
and habitual moral Inability, I mean an Inability in the
heart to all exercises or acts of will of that kind, through a
fixed and habitual inclination, or an habitual and stated
defect, or want of a certain kind of inclination. Thus a
very ill-natured man may be unable to exert such acts of
benevolence, as another, who is full of good nature, com
monly exerts ; and a man whose heart is habitually void
of gratitude, may be unable to exert grateful acts, through
that stated defect of a grateful inclination. By particular
and occasional moral Inability, I mean an Inability of the
will or heart to a particular act, through the strength or
defect of present motives, or of inducements presented to
the view of the understanding, on this occasion. — If it be
so, that the Will is always determined by the strongest
motive, then it must always have an Inability, in this lat
ter sense, to act otherwise than it does ; it not being pos
sible, in any case, that the Will should, at present, go
against the motive which has now, all things considered,
the greatest advantage to induce it. — The former of these
kinds of moral Inability is most commonly called by the
name of Inability ; because the word, in its most proper
and original signification, has respect to some stated de
fect. And this especially obtains the name of Inability
also upon another account: — because, as before observed,
the word Inability, in its original and most common use, is
a relative term ; and has respect to will and endeavour, as
supposable in the case, and as insufficient to bring to pass
the thing desired and endeavoured. Now there may be
more of an appearance and shadow of this, with respect to
the acts which arise from a fixed and strong habit, than
* I say not only doing, but conducting ; because a voluntary forbearing
to do, sitting still, keeping silence, _c. are instances of persons' conduct,

others that arise only from transient occasions and causes .
Indeed will and endeavour against, or diverse from present
acts of the Will are in no case supposable, whether those
acts be occasional or habitual ; for that would be to sup
pose the Will, at present, to be otherwise than, at present,
it. is. But yet there may be will and endeavour against
future acts of the Will, or volitions that are likely to take
place, as viewed at a distance. It is no contradiction, to
suppose that the acts of the Will at one time, may be against
the acts of the Will at another time ; and there may be de
sires and endeavours to prevent or excite future acts of the
Will ; but such desires and endeavours are, in many cases,
rendered insufficient and vain, through fixedness of habit :
when the occasion returns, the strength of habit overcomes
and baffles all such opposition. In this respect, a man
may be in miserable slavery and bondage to a strong habit.
But it may be comparatively easy to make an alteration,
with respect to such future acts, as are only occasional and
transient ; because the occasion or transient cause, if fore
seen, may often easily be prevented or avoided. On this
account, the moral Inability that attends fixed habits,
especially obtains the name of Inability. And then, as the
Will may remotely and indirectly resist itself, and do it in
vain, in the case of strong habits ; so reason may resist
present acts of the Will, and its resistance be insufficient ;
and this is more commonly the case also, when the acts
arise from strong habit.
But it must be observed concerning moral Inability, in
each kind of it, that the word Inability is used in a sense
very diverse from its original import. The word signifies
only a natural Inability, in the proper use of it ; and is ap
plied to such cases only wherein a present will or inclina
tion to the thing, with respect to which a person is said to
be unable, is supposable. It cannot be truly said, accord
ing to the ordinary use of language, that a malicious man,
let him be never so malicious, cannot hold his hand from
striking, or that he is not able to show his neighbour kind
ness ; or that a drunkard, let his appetite be never so strong,
cannot keep the cup from his mouth. In the strictest pro
priety of speech, a man has a thing in his power, if he has
it in his choice, or at his election : and a man cannot be
truly said to be unable to do a thing, when he can do it if
he will. It is improperly said, that a person cannot per
form those external actions, which are dependent on the act
of the Will, and which would be easily performed, if the
act of the Will were present. And if it be improperly said,
that he cannot perform those external voluntary actions,
which depend on the Will, it is in some respect more im
properly said, that he is unable to exert the acts of the Will
themselves ; because it is more evidently false, with re
spect to these, that he cannot if he will : for to say so, is a
downright contradiction ; it is to say, he cannot will, if he
does will. And in this case, not only is it true, that it is
easy for a man to do the thing if he will, but the very will
ing is the doing ; when once he has willed, the thing is
performed ; and nothing else remains to be done. There
fore, in these things, to ascribe a non-performance to the
want of power or ability, is not just ; because the thing
wanting is not a being able, but a being wilting. There are
faculties of mind, and a capacity of nature, and every thing
else, sufficient, but a disposition : nothing is wanting but
a will.

SECT. V.
Concerning the notion of Liberty, and of moral Agency.
The plain and obvious meaning of the words Freedom
and Liberty, in common speech, is The power, opportu
nity, or advantage, that any one has, to do as he pleases.
Or in other words, his being free from hinderance or im
pediment in the way of doing, or conducting in any respect,
as he wills.*- — And the contrary to Liberty, whatever
name we call that by, is a person's being hindered or
unable to conduct as he will, or being necessitated to do
otherwise. If this which I have mentioned be the meaning of the
about which Liberty is exercised ; though they are not so properly called
doing.

12

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part I.

word Liberty, in the ordinary use of language ; as I trust
that none that has ever learned to talk, and is unpreju
diced, will deny ; then it will follow, that in propriety of
speech, neither Liberty, nor its contrary, can properly be
ascribed to any being or thing, but that which has such a
faculty, power or property, as is called Will. For that
which is possessed of no will, cannot have any power or
opportunity of doing according to its wilt, nor be necessi
tated to act contrary to its will, nor be restrained from act
ing agreeably to it. And therefore to talk of Liberty, or
the contrary, as belonging to the very Will itself, is not to
speak good sense; if we judge of sense, and nonsense, by
the original and proper signification of words. — -For the
Will itself is not an Agent that has a will : the power of
choosing, itself, has not a power of choosing. That which
has the power of volition is the man, or the soul, and not
the power of volition itself. And he that has the Liberty
of doing according to his will, is the Agent who is pos
sessed of the Will ; and not the Will which he is possess
ed of. We say with propriety, that a bird let loose has
power and liberty to fly ; but not that the bird's power
of flying has a power and Liberty of flying. To be free is
the property of an Agent, who is possessed of powers and
faculties, as much as to be cunning, valiant, bountiful, or
zealous. But these qualities are the properties of persons ;
and not the properties of properties.
There are two things contrary to what is called Liberty
in common speech. One is constraint ; otherwise called
force, compulsion, and coaction ; which is a person's being
necessitated to do a thing contrary to his will. The other
is restraint ; which is, his being hindered, and not having
power to do according to his will. But that which has no
will, cannot be the subject of these things. — I need say the
less on this head, Mr. Locke having set the same thing
forth, with so great clearness, in his Essay on the Human
Understanding. But one thing more I would observe concerning what is
vulgarly called Liberty ; namely, that power and oppor
tunity for one to do and conduct as he will, or according
to his choice, is all that is meant by it; without taking
into the meaning of the word, any thing of the cause of that
choice ; or at all considering how the person came to have
such a volition ; whether it was caused by some external
motive, or internal habitual bias ; whether it was deter
mined by some internal antecedent volition, or whether it
happened without a cause ; whether it was necessarily con
nected with something foregoing, or not connected. Let
the person come by his choice any how, yet, if he is able,
and there is nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and
executing his will, the man is perfectly free, according to
the primary and common notion of freedom.
What has been said may be sufficient to show what is
meant by Liberty, according to the common notions of
mankind, and in the usual and primary acceptation of the
word : but the word, as used by Arminians, Pelagians, and
others, who oppose the Calvinists, has an entirely different
signification. — These several things belong to their notion
of Liberty. 1. That it consists in a self-determining power
in the Will, or a certain sovereignty the Will has over itself,
and its own acts, whereby it determines its own volitions ;
so as not to be dependent, in its determinations, on any
cause without itself, nor determined by any thing prior to
its own acts. 2. Indifference belongs to Liberty in their
notion of it, or that the mind, previous to the act of voli
tion, be in equilibrio. 3. Contingence is another thing
that belongs and is essential to it ; not in the common ac
ceptation of the word, as that has been already explained,
but as opposed to all necessity, or any fixed and certain
connexion with some previous ground or reason of its
existence. They suppose the essence of Liberty so much
to consist in these things, that unless the will of man be
free in this sense, he has no real freedom, how much soever
he may be at Liberty to act according to his will.

A moral Agent is a being that is capable of those actions
that have a moral quality, and which can properly be
denominated good or evil in a moral sense, virtuous or
vicious, commendable or faulty. To moral Agency belongs
a moral faculty, or sense of moral good and evil, or of such
a thing as desert or worthiness, of praise or blame, reward
or punishments ; and a capacity which an Agent has of be
ing influenced in his actions by moral inducements or
motives, exhibited to the view of understanding and reason,
to engage to a conduct agreeable to the moral faculty.
The sun is very excellent and beneficial in its action and
influence on the earth, in warming and causing it to bring
forth its fruit; but it is not a moral agent: its action,
though good, is not virtuous or meritorious. Fire that
breaks out in a city, and consumes great part of it, is very
mischievous in its operation; but is not a moral Agent:
what it does is not faulty or sinful, or deserving of any
punishment. The brute creatures are not moral Agents :
the actions of some of them are very profitable and
pleasant ; others are very hurtful : yet seeing they have
no moral faculty, or sense of desert, and do not act from
choice guided by understanding, or with a capacity of
reasoning and reflecting, but only from instinct, and are
not capable of being influenced by moral inducements,
their actions are not properly sinful or virtuous , nor are
they properly the subjects of any such moral treatment for
what they do, as moral Agents are for their faults or good
deeds. Here it may be noted, that there is a circumstantial
difference between the moral Agency of a ruler and a sub
ject. I call it circumstantial, because it lies only in the
difference of moral inducements, by which they are capa
ble of being influenced, arising from the difference of cir
cumstances. A ruler, acting in that capacity only, is Dot
capable of being influenced by a moral law, and its sanc
tions of threatenings and promises, rewards and punish
ments, as the subject is ; though both may be influenced
by a knowledge of moral good and evil. And therefore
the moral Agency of the Supreme Being, who acts only in
the capacity of a ruler towards his creatures, and never as
a subject, differs in that respect from the moral Agency of
created intelligent beings. God's actions, and particularly
those which he exerts as a moral governor, have moral
qualifications, and are morally good in the highest degree:
They are most perfectly holy and righteous ; and we must
conceive of Him as influenced, in the highest degree, by
that which, above all others, is properly a moral induce
ment ; viz. the moral good which He sees in such and
such things : and therefore He is, in the most proper sense,
a moral Agent, the source of all moral ability and Agency;
the fountain and rule of all virtue and moral good ; though
by reason of his being supreme over all, it is not possible
He should be under the influence of law or command,
promises or threatenings, rewards or punishments, counsels
or warnings. The essential qualities of a moral Agent are
in God, in the greatest possible perfection ; such as un
derstanding to perceive the difference between moral good
and evil ; a capacity of discerning that moral worthiness
and demerit, by which some things are praiseworthy, others
deserving of blame and punishment ; and also a capacity
of choice, and choice guided by understanding, and a power
of acting according to his choice or pleasure, and being
capable of doing those things which are in the highest
sense praiseworthy. And herein does very much consist
that image of God wherein he made man, (which we read
of, Gen. i. 26, 27, and chap. ix. 6.) by which God distin
guished man from the beasts, viz. in those faculties and
principles of nature, whereby He is capable of moral
Agency. Herein very much consists the natural image of
God ; whereas the spiritual and moral image, wherein man
was made at first, consisted in that moral excellency with
which he was endowed.

Sect. I.

THE INCONSISTENCE OF ARMINIAN LIBERTY.

13

PART II.

WHEREIN IT IS CONSIDERED WHETHER THERE IS OR CAN BE ANY SUCH SORT OF FREEDOM OF WILL, AS THAT WHEREIN
ARMINIANS PLACE THE ESSENCE OP THE LIBERTY OP ALL MORAL AGENTS ; AND WHETHER ANY SUCH THING EVER
WAS OR CAN BE CONCEIVED OF.

SECT. I.
Showing the manifest inconsistence of the Arminian notion
of Liberty of Will, consisting in the Will's self-de
termining Power.
Having taken notice of those things which may be
necessary to be observed, concerning the meaning of the
principal terms and phrases made use of in controversies
concerning human liberty, and particularly observed what
Liberty is according to the common language and general
apprehension of mankind, and what it is as understood and
maintained by Arminians; I proceed to consider the Ar
minian notion of the Freedom of the Will, and the sup
posed necessity of it in order to moral agency, or in order
to any one's being capable of virtue or vice, and properly
the subject of command or counsel, praise or blame,
promises or threatenings, rewards or punishments ; or
whether that which has been described, as the thing meant
by Liberty in common speech, be not sufficient, and the
only Liberty, which makes or can make any one a moral
agent, and so properly the subject of these things. In this
Part, I shall consider whether any such thing be possible
or conceivable, as that Freedom of Will which Arminians
insist on; and shall inquire, whether any such sort of
Liberty be necessary to moral agency, &c. in the next part.
And first of all, I shall consider the notion of a self-
determining Power in the Will : wherein, according to the
Arminians, does most essentially consist the Will's free
dom ; and shall particularly inquire, whether it be not
plainly absurd, and a manifest inconsistence, to suppose
that the Will itself determines all the. free acts of the Will.
Here I shall not insist on the great impropriety of such
ways of speaking as the Will determining itself; because
actions are to be ascribed to agents, and not properly to
the powers of agents ; which improper way of speaking
leads to many mistakes, and much confusion, as Mr.
Locke observes. But I shall suppose that the Arminians,
when they speak of the Will's determining itself, do by
the Will mean the soul willing. I shall take it for granted,
that when they speak of the Will, as the determiner, they
mean the soul in the exercise of a power of willing, or act
ing voluntarily. I shall suppose this to be their meaning,
because nothing else can be meant, without the grossest
and plainest absurdity. In all cases when we speak of
the powers or principles of acting, or doing such things,
we mean that tne agents which have these Powers of act
ing, do them, in the exercise of those Powers. So when
we say, valour fights courageously, we mean, the man who
is under the influence of valour fights courageously. When
we say, love seeks the object loved, we mean, the person
loving seeks that object. When we say, the understanding
discerns, we mean the soul in the exercise of that faculty.
So when it is said, the will decides or determines, the
meaning must be, that the person, in the exercise of a
Power of willing and choosing, or the soul, acting volunta
rily, determines.
Therefore, if the Will determines all its own free acts,
the soul determines them in the exercise of a Power of
willing and choosing ; or, which is the same thing, it de
termines them of choice ; it determines its own acts, by
choosing its own acts. If the Will determines the Will,
then choice orders and determines the choice ; and acts of
choice are subject to the decision, and follow the conduct
of other acts of choice. And therefore if the Will deter
mines all its own free acts, then every free act of choice is
determined by a preceding act of choice, choosing that act.
And if that preceding act of the Will be also a free act,
then by these principles, in this act too, the Will is self-
determined : that is, this, in like manner, is an act that the
soul voluntarily chooses ; or, which is the same thing, it is
an act determined still by a preceding act of the Will,

choosing that. Which brings us directly to a contradic
tion : for it supposes an act of the Will preceding the first
act in the whole train, directing and determining the rest ;
or a free act of the Will, before the first free act of the
Will. Or else we must come at last to an act of the Will,
determining the consequent acts, wherein tbe Will is not
self-determined, and so is not a free act, in this notion of
freedom : but if the first act in the' train, determining and
fixing the rest, be not free, none of them all can be free ;
as is manifest at first view, but shall be demonstrated pre
sently. If the Will, which we find governs the members of the
body, and determines their motions', does also govern it
self, and determines its own actions, it doubtless deter
mines them the same way, even by antecedent volitions.
The Will determines which way the hands and feet shall
move, by an act of choice : and there is no other way of
the Will's determining, directing, or commanding any thing
at all. Whatsoever the Will commands, it commands by
an act of the Will. And if it has itself under its com
mand, and determines itself in its own actions, it doubt
less does it the same way that it determines other things
which are under its command. So that if the freedom of
the Will consists in this, that it has itself and its own
actions under its command and direction, and its own
volitions are determined by itself, it will follow, that every
free volition arises from another antecedent volition, direct
ing and commanding that : and if that directing volition
be also free, in that also the Will is determined ; that is to
say, that directing volition is determined by another going
before that ; and so on, till we come to the first volition in
the whole series : and if that first volition be free, and the
Will self-determined in it, then that is determined by
another volition preceding that. Which is a contradic
tion ; because by the supposition, it can have none before
it, to direct or determine it, being the first in the train.
But if that first volition is not determined by any pre
ceding act of the Wili, then that act is not determined by
the Will, and so is not free in the Arminian notion of
freedom, which consists in the Will's self-determination.
And if that first act of the Will which determines and
fixes the subsequent acts, be not free, none of the following
acts which are determined by it can be free. — If we sup
pose there are five acts in the train, the fifth and last de
termined by the fourth, and the fourth by the third, the
third by the second, and the second by the first; if the
first is not determined by the Will, and so not free, then
none of them are truly determined by the Will : that is, that
each of them are as they are, and not otherwise, is not first
owing to the Will, but to the determination of the first in
the series, which is not dependent on the Will, and is
that which the Will has no hand in determining. And
this being that which decides what the rest shall be, and
determines their existence ; therefore the first determination
of their existence is not from the Will. The case is just
the same, if instead of a chain of five acts of the Will, we
should suppose a succession of ten, or an hundred, or ten
thousand. If the first act be not free, being determined
by something out of the Will, and this determines the
next to be agreeable to itself, and that the next, and so on ;
none of them are free, but all originally depend on, and
are determined by, some cause out of the Will ; and so all
freedom in the case is excluded, and no act of the Will
can be free, according to this notion of freedom. If we
should suppose a long chain of ten thousand links, so
connected, that if the first link moves, it will move the
next, and that the next ; and so the whole chain must be
determined to motion, and in the direction of its motion,
by the motion of the first link ; and that is moved by
something else ; in this case, though all the links, but one,
are moved by other parts of the same chain, yet it ap
pears that the motion of no one, nor the direction of its

14

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

motion, is from any self-moving or self-determining power
in the chain, any more than if every link were imme
diately moved by something that did not belong to the
chain. — If the Will be not free in the first act, which causes
the next, then neither is it free in the next, which is caused
by that first act ; for though indeed the Will caused it, yet
it did not cause it freely ; because the preceding act, by
which it was caused, was not free. And again, if the Will
be not free in the second act, so neither can it be in the
third, which is caused by that; because in like manner,
that third was determined by an act of the Will that was
not free. And so we may go on to the next act, and from
that to the next ; and how long soever the succession of
acts is, it is all one : if the first on which the whole chain
depends, and which determines all the rest, be not a free
act, the Will is not free in causing or determining any one
of those acts ; because the act by which it determines
them all is not a free act ; and therefore the Will is no
more free in determining them, than if it did not cause them
at all. — Thus, this Arminian notion of Liberty of the Will,
consisting in the Will's Self-determination, is repugnant to
itself, and shuts itself wholly out of the world.

SECT. II.
Several supposed ways of evading the foregoing reasoning,
considered.
If to evade the force of what has been observed, it
should be said, that when the Arminians speak of the Will
determining its own acts, they do not mean that the Will
determines them by any preceding act, or that one act of
the Will determines another ; but only that the faculty or
power of Will, or the soul in the use of that power, deter
mines its own volitions ; and that it does it without any
act going before the act determined ; such an evasion
would be full of the most gross absurdity. — I confess, it is
an evasion of my own inventing ; and 1 do not know but
I should wrong the Arminians, in supposing that any of
them would make use of it. But it being as good a one as
1 can invent, I would observe upon it a few things.
First, If the power of the will determines an act of vo
lition, or the soul in the use or exercise of that power de
termines it, that is the same thing as for the soul to deter
mine volition by an act of will. For an exercise of the
power of will, and an act of that power, are the same thing.
Therefore to say, that the power of will, or the soul in the
use or exercise of that power, determines volition, without
an act of will preceding the volition determined, is a con
tradiction. Secondly, If a power of will determines the act of the
Will, then a power of choosing determines it. For, as was
before observed, in every act of will, there is choice, and a
power of willing is a power of choosing. But if a power
of choosing determines the act of volition, it determines it
by choosing it. For it is most absurd to say, that a power
of choosing determines one thing rather than another,
without choosing any thing. But if a power of choosing
determines volition by choosing it, then here is the act of
volition determined by an antecedent choice, choosing that
volition. Thirdly, To say, that the faculty, or the soul, deter
mines its own volition, but not by any act, is a contradic
tion. Because for the soul to direct, decide, or determine
any thing, is to act ; and this is supposed : for the soul is
here spoken of as being a cause in this affair, doing some
thing ; or, which is the same thing, exerting itself in order
to an effect, which effect is the determination of volition,
or the particular kind and manner of an act of will. But
certainly, this action is not the same with the effect, in order
to the production of which it is exerted; but must be some
thing prior to it.
The advocates for this notion of the freedom of the Will,
speak of a certain sovereignty in the Will, whereby it has
power to determine its own volitions. And therefore the
determination of volition must itself be an act of the Will ;
for otherwise it can be no exercise of that supposed power
and sovereignty. Again, if the Will determines itself, then
either the Will is active in determining its volitions, or it is

not. If active, then the determination is an act of the Will ;
and so there is one act of the Will determining another. But
if the Will is not active in the determination, then how does
it exercise any 1 iberty in it ? These gentlemen su ppose that
the thing wherein the Will exercises liberty, is in its deter
mining its own acts. But how can this be, if it be not ac
tive in determining ? Certainly the Will, or the soul, can
not exercise any liberty in that wherein it doth not act, or
wherein it doth not exercise itself. So that if either part of
this dilemma be taken, this scheme of liberty, consisting in
self-determining power, is overthrown. If there be an act
of the Will in determining all its own free acts, then one
free act of the Will is determined by another; and so we
have the absurdity of every free act, even the very first, de
termined by a foregoing free act. But if there be no act or
exercise of the Will in determining its own acts, then no
liberty is exercised in determining them. From whence it
follows, that no liberty consists in the Will's power to de
termine its own acts : or, which is the same thing, that there
is no such thing as liberty consisting in a self-determining
power of the Will.
If it should be said, That although it be true, if the soul
determines its own volitions, it must be active in so doing,
and the determination itself must be an act ; yet there is
no need of supposing this act to be prior to the volition
determined ; but the Will or soul determines the act of
the Will in willing ; it determines its own volition, in the
very act of volition ; it directs and limits the act of the
Will, causing it to be so and not otherwise, in exerting the
act, without any preceding act to exert that. If any should
say after this manner, they must mean one of these three
things : either, (1.) That the determining act, though it be
before the act determined in the order of nature, yet is not
before it in order of time. Or, (2.) That the determining
act is not before the act determined, either in the order of
time or nature, nor is truly distinct from it ; but that the
soul's determining the act of volition is the same thing with
its exerting the act of volition : the mind's exerting such
a particular act, is its causing and determining the act.
Or, (3.) That volition has no cause, and is no effect ; but
comes into existence, with such a particular determination,
without any ground or reason of its existence and determi
nation. — I shall consider these distinctly.
(1.) If all that is meant, be, that the determining act is
not before the act determined in order of time, it will not
help the case at all, though it should be allowed. If it be
before the determined act in the order of nature, being the
cause or ground of its existence, this as much proves it to
be distinct from, and independent on it, as if it were before
in the order of time. As the cause of the particular mo
tion of a natural body in a certain direction, may have no
distance as to time, yet cannot be the same with the mo
tion effected by it, but must be as distinct from it, as any
other cause, that is before its effect in the order of time : as
the architect is distinct from the house which he builds,
or the father distinct from the son which he begets. And
if the act of the Will determining be distinct from the act
determined, and before it in the order of nature, then we
can go back from one to another, till we come to the first
in the series, which has no act of the Will before it in the
order of nature, determining it ; and consequently is an act
not determined by the Will, and so not a free act, in this
notion of freedom. And this being the act which deter
mines all the rest, none of them are free acts. As when
there is a chain of many links, the first of which only is
taken hold of and drawn by hand ; all the rest may follow
and be moved at the same instant, without any distance of
time ; but yet the motion of one link is before that of
another in the order of nature; the last is moved by the
next, and that by the next, and so till we come to the first;
which not being moved by any other, but by something
distinct from the whole chain, this as much proves that no
part is moved by any self-moving power in the chain, as if
the motion of one link followed that of another in the order
of time.
(2.) If any should say, that the determining act is not
before the determined act, either in the order of time, or of
nature, nor is distinct from it ; but that the exertion of the
act is the determination of the act ; that for the Soul to
exert a particular volition, is for it to cause and determine

Sect. II.

NO EVENT WITHOUT A CAUSE.

16

that act of volition : I would on this observe, that the thing
in question seems to be forgotten, or kept out of sight, in a
darkness and unintelligibleness of speech ; unless such an
objector would mean to contradict himself. — The very act
of volition itself is doubtless a determination of mind ; i. e.
it is the mind's drawing up a conclusion, or coming to a
choice between two or more things proposed to it. But
determining among external objects of choice, is not the
same with determining the act of choice itself, among
various possible acts of choice. — The question is. What in
fluences, directs, or determines the mind or Will to come
to such a conclusion or choice as it does 1 Or what is the
cause, ground, or reason, why it concludes thus, and not
otherwise . Now it must be answered, according to the
Arminian notion of freedom, that the Will influences,
orders, and determines itself thus to act. And if it does, I
say, it must be by some antecedent act. To say, it is
caused, influenced, and determined by something, and yet
not determined by any thing antecedent, either in order of
time or nature, is a contradiction. For that is what is
meant by a thing's being prior in the order of nature, that
it is someway the cause or reason of the thing, with respect
to which it is said to be prior.
If the particular act or exertion of will, which comes into
existence, be any thing properly determined at all, then it
has some cause of existing, and of existing in such a parti
cular determinate manner, and not another ; some cause,
whose influence decides the matter : which cause is distinct
from the effect, and prior to it. But to say, that the Will
or mind orders, influences, and determines itself to exert an
act by the very exertion itself, is to make the exertion both
cause and effect ; or the exerting such an act, to be a cause
of the exertion of such an act. For the question is, What
is the cause and reason of the soul's exerting such an act ?
To which the answer is, The soul exerts such an act, and
that is the cause of it. And so, by this, the exertion must
be distinct from, and in the order of nature prior to, itself.
(3.) If the meaning be, that the soul's exertion of such
a particular act of will, is a thing that comes to pass of
itself, without any cause ; and that there is absolutely no
reason of the soul being determined to exert such a voli
tion, and make such a choice, rather than another ; I say,
if this be the meaning of Arminians, when they contend so
earnestly for the Will determining its own acts, and for
liberty of Will consisting in self-determining power; they
do nothing but confound themselves and others with words
without a meaning. In the question, What determines the
Will ? and in their answer, that the Will determines itself,
and in all the dispute, it seems to be taken for granted,
that something determines the Will ; and the controversy
on this head is not, whether its determination has any
cause or foundation at all ; but where the foundation of it
is, whether in the Will itself, or somewhere else. But if
the thing intended be what is above mentioned, then no
thing at all determines the Will ; volition having abso
lutely no cause or foundation of its existence, either with
in or without.  There is a great noise made about self-
determining power, as the source of all free acts of the Will :
but when the matter comes to be explained, the meaning
is, that no power at all is the source of these acts, neither
self-determining power, nor any other, but they arise from
nothing; no cause, no power, no influence, being at all
concerned in the matter.
However, this very thing, even that the free acts of the
Will are events which come to pass without a cause, is cer
tainly implied in the Arminian notion of liberty of Will ;
though it be very inconsistent with many other things in
their scheme, and repugnant to some things implied in
their notion of liberty. Their opinion implies, that the
E articular determination of volition is without any cause ;
ecause they hold the free acts of the Will to be contingent
events ; and contingence is essential to freedom in their
notion of it. But certainly, those things which have a
prior ground and reason of their particular existence, a
cause which antecedently determines them to be, and de
termines them to be just as they are, do not happen con
tingently. If something foregoing, by a casual influence
and connexion, determines and fixes precisely their coming
to pass, and the manner of it, then it does not remain a
contingent thing whether they shall come to pass or no.

And because it is a question in many respects very im
portant in this controversy, Whether the free acts of the
Will are events which come to pass without a cause ; 1 shall
be particular in examining this point in the two following
sections.

SECT. III.
Whether any Event whatsoever, and Volition in particular,
can come to pass without a Cause of its existence.
Before I enter on any argument on this subject, I
would explain how I would be understood, when I use
the word Cause in this discourse; since, for want of a bet
ter word, I shall have occasion to use it in a sense which
is more extensive than that in which it is sometimes used.
The word is often used in so restrained a sense as to sig
nify only that which has a positive efficiency or influence to
produce a thing, or bring it to pass. But there are many
things which have no such positive productive influence ;
which yet are Causes in this respect, that they have truly
the nature of a reason why some things are, rather than
others ; or why they are thus, rather than otherwise. Thus
the absence of the sun in the night, is not the Cause of the
fall of dew at that time, in the same manner as its beams
are the cause of the ascent of vapours in the day-time; and
its withdrawment in the winter, is not in the same manner
the Cause of the freezing of the waters, as its approach in
the spring is the cause of their thawing. But yet the
withdrawment or absence of the sun is an antecedent, with
which these effects in the night and winter are connected,
and on which they depend ; and is one thing that belongs
to the ground and reason why they come to pass at that
time, rather than at other times ; though the absence of the
sun is nothing positive, nor has any positive influence.
It may be further observed, that when I speak of con
nexion of Causes and effects, I have respect to moral
Causes, as well as those that are called natural in distinc
tion from them. Moral Causes may be Causes in as
proper a sense as any Causes whatsoever ; may have as
real an influence, and may as truly be the ground and
reason of an Event's coming to pass.
Therefore I sometimes use the word Cause, in this
inquiry, to signify any antecedent, either natural or moral,
positive or negative, on which an Event, either a thing, or
the manner and circumstance of a thing, so depends, that
it is the ground and reason, either in whole, or in part, why
it is, rather than not ; or why it is as it is, rather than
otherwise ; or, in other words, any antecedent with which a
consequent Event is so connected, that it truly belongs to
the reason why the proposition which affirms that Event is
true ; whether it has any positive influence, or not. And
agreeably to this, I sometimes use the word effect for the
consequence of another thing, which is perhaps rather an
occasion than a Cause, most properly speaking.
I am the more careful thus to explain my meaning, that
I may cut off occasion, from any that might seek occasion
to cavil and object against some things which I may say
concerning the dependence of all things which come to
pass, on some Cause, and their connexion with their
Cause. Having thus explained what I mean by Cause, I assert,
that nothing ever comes to pass without a Cause. What is
self-existent must be from eternity, and must be un
changeable : but as to all things that begin to be, they are
not self-existent, and therefore must have some foundation
of their existence without themselves. — That whatsoever
begins to be, which before was not, must have a Cause why
it then begins to exist, seems to be the first dictate of the
common and natural sense which God hath implanted in
the minds of all mankind, and the main foundation of all
our reasonings about the existence of things, past, present,
or to come.
And this dictate of common sense equally respects sub
stances and modes, or things and the manner and circum
stances of things. Thus, if we see a body which has
hitherto been at rest, start out of a state of rest, and begin
to move, we do as naturally and necessarily suppose there
is some Cause or reason of this new mode of existence, as

16

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

of the existence of a body itself which had hitherto not
existed. And so if a body, which had hitherto moved in
a certain direction, should suddenly change the direction of
its motion ; or if it should put off its old figure, and take
a new one ; or change its colour : the beginning of these
new modes is a new Event, and the human mind neces
sarily supposes that there is some Cause or reason of them.
If this grand principle of common sense be taken away,
all arguing from effects to causes ceaseth, and so all
knowledge of any existence, besides what we have by the
most direct and immediate intuition, particularly all our
proof of the being of God, ceases : we argue His being
from our own being, and the being of other things,
which we are sensible once were not, but have begun to
be ; and from the being of the world, with all its con
stituent parts, and the manner of their existence; all
which we see plainly are not necessary in their own na
ture, and so not self-existent, and therefore must have a
Cause. But if things, not in themselves necessary, may
begin to be without a Cause, all this arguing is vain.
Indeed, I will not affirm, that there is in the nature of
things no foundation for the knowledge of the Being of
God, without any evidence of it from his works. I do
suppose there is a great absurdity in denying Being in
general, and imagining an eternal, absolute, universal no
thing : and therefore that there would be, in the nature of
things, a foundation of intuitive evidence, that there must
be an eternal, infinite, most perfect Being; if we had
strength and comprehension of mind (sufficient, to have a
clear idea of general and universal Being. But then we
should not properly come to the knowledge of the Being
of God by arguing ; our evidence would be intuitive : we
should see it, as we see other things that are necessary in
themselves, the contraries of which are in their own nature
absurd and contradictory ; as we see that twice two is
four ; and as we see that a circle has no angles. If we
had as clear an idea of universal, infinite entity, as we
have of these other things, I suppose we should most in
tuitively see the absurdity of supposing such Being not to
be; should immediately see there is no room for the
question, whether it is possible that Being, in the most
general, abstracted notion of it should not be. But we
nave not that strength and extent of mind, to know this
certainly in this intuitive, independent manner : but the
way that mankind come to the knowledge of the Being of
God, is that which the apostle speaks of, Rom. i. 20. The
invisible things of him, from the creation of the world, are
clearly seen; being understood by the things that are made;
even his eternal power and Godhead. We first ascend, and
prove a posteriori, or from effects, that there must be an
eternal Cause ; and then secondly, prove by argumentation,
not intuition, that this Being must be necessarily existent ;
and then thirdly, from the proved necessity of his exist
ence, we may descend, and prove many of his perfections
a priori.* But if once this grand principle of common sense be
given up, that what is not necessary in itself, must have a
Cause ; and we begin to maintain, that things which here
tofore have not been, may come into existence, and begin
to be of themselves, without any cause ; all our means of
ascending in our arguing from the creature to the Creator,
and all our evidence of the Being of God, is cut off at one
blow. In this case, we cannot prove that there is a God,
either from the Being of the world, and the creatures in it,
or from the manner of their Being, their order, beauty, and
use. For if things may come into existence without any
Cause at all, then they doubtless may without any Cause
answerable to the effect. Our minds do alike naturally
suppose and determine both these things ; namely, that
what begins to be has a Cause, and also that it has a Cause
proportionable to the effect. The same principle which
* To the inquirer after truth it may here be recommended, as a matter
of some consequence, to keep in mind the precise difference between an
argument a priori and one a posteriori, a distinction of considerable use,
as well as of long standing, among divines, metaphysicians, and logical
writers. An argument from either of these, when legitimately applied,
may amount to a demonstration, when used, for instance, relatively to the
being and perfections of God ; but the one should be confined to the exist
ence of Deity, while the other is applicable to his perfections. By the ar
gument a posteriori we rise from the effect to the cause, from the stream
to the fountain, from what is posterior to what is prior ; in other words,
from what is contingent to what is absolute, from number to unity ; that is,
from the manifestation of God to his existence. By the argument a priori

leads us to determine, that there cannot be any thing
coming to pass without a Cause, leads us to determine
that there cannot be more in the effect than in the Cause.
Yea, if once it should be allowed, that things may come
to pass without a Cause, we should not only have no proof
of the Being of God, but we should be without evidence
of the existence of any thing whatsoever, but our own im
mediately present ideas and consciousness. For we have
no way to prove any thing else, but by arguing from effects
to Causes : from the ideas now immediately in view, we
argue other things not immediately in view ; from sensa
tions now excited in us, we infer the existence of things
without us, as the Causes of these sensations ; and from
the existence of these things, we argue other things, on
which they depend, as effects on Causes. We infer the
past existence of ourselves, or any thing else, by memory ;
only as we argue, that the ideas, which are now in our
minds, are the consequences of past ideas and sensations.
We immediately perceive nothing else but the ideas which
are this moment extant in our minds. We perceive or
know other things only by means of these, as necessarily
connected with others, and dependent on them. But if
things may be without Causes, all this necessary connexion
and dependence is dissolved, and so all means of our
knowledge is gone. If there be no absurdity or difficulty
in supposing one thing to start out of non-existence into
being, of itself without a Cause ; then there is no absurdity
or difficulty in supposing the same of millions of millions.
For nothing, or no difficulty, multiplied, still is nothing, or
no difficulty : nothing multiplied by nothing, does not in-t
crease the sum.
And indeed, according to the hypothesis I am opposing,,
of the acts of the Will coming to pass without a Cause, it
is the cause in fact, that millions of millions of Events are
continually coming into existence contingently, without
any Cause or reason why they do so, all over the world,
every day and hour, through all ages. So it is in a con-:
stant succession, in every moral agent. This contingency,
this efficient nothing, this effectual No-Cause, is always
ready at hand, to produce this sort of effects, as long as the
agent exists, and as often as he has occasion.
If it were so, that things only of one kind, viz. acts of the
Will, seemed to come to pass of themselves ; and it were
an Event that was continual, and that happened in a course,
wherever were found subjects capable of such Events ; this
very thing would demonstrate that there was some Cause
of them, which made such a difference between this Event-
and others, and that they did not really happen contingent
ly. For contingence is blind, and does not pick and choose
a particular sort of Events. Nothing has no choice. This
No-Cause, which causes no existence, cannot cause the
existence which comes to pass, to be of one particular sort
only, distinguished from all others. Thus, that only one
sort of matter drops out of the heavens, even water, and
that this comes so often, so constantly and plentifully, all
over the world, in all ages, shows that there is some Cause
or reason of the falling of water out of the heavens; and.
that something besides mere contingence has a hand in the
matter. If we should suppose Non-entity to be about to bring
forth ; and things were coming into existence, without any
Cause or antecedent, on which the existence, or kind, or
manner of existence depends ; or which could at all de
termine whether the things should be stones, or stars, or
beasts, or angels, or human bodies, or souls, or only some
new motion or figure in natural bodies, or some new sensa
tions in animals, or new ideas in the human understand
ing, or new volitions in the Will ; or any thing else of all
the infinite number of possibles ; then certainly it would
not be expected, although many millions of millions of
things were coming into existence in this manner, all over
we descend from Hie cause to the effect, from the fountain to the stream.
from what is prior to what is posterior ; that is, from the necessary existence
of God we safely infer certain properties and perfections. To attempt a
?™?Hn!ratl0nl°Vhe ejas'en?<! ot *,_¦*» cau^, or the Being of God, a priori.
would be most absurd ; for it would be an attempt to prove a prior eround
or cause of existence of a first cause; or, that there is some cause Wore
the very first. The argument a priori therefore, is not applicable to prove
wit? '?e "'J'?,1"*' F»r."»» ™d, the argument a posteriori alone is
legitimate; and its conclusiveness rests on this axiom, feat " there can be
_li£ci """""" ."„ °"se- T.te absurdity of denying this axiom is abun
dantly demonstrated by our author.— W. ™jv_. ¦» ouu_-

Sect. IV.

VOLITION NOT WITHOUT A CAUSE.

17

the face of the earth, that they should all be only of one
particular kind, and that it should be thus in all ages, and
that this sort of existences should never fail to come to pass
where there is room for them, or a subject capable of them,
and that constantly, whenever there is occasion.
If any should imagine, there is something in the sort of
Event that renders it possible for it to come into existence
without a Cause, and should say, that the free acts of the
Will are existences of an exceeding different nature from
other things ; by reason of which they may come into ex
istence without any previous ground or reason of it, though
ether things cannot : if they make this objection in good
earnest, it would be an evidence of their strangely forgetting
themselves ; for they would be giving an account of some
ground of the existence of a thing, when at the same time
they would maintain there is no ground of its existence.
Therefore I would observe, that the particular nature of
existence, be it never so diverse from others, can lay no
foundation for that thing coming into existence without a
Cause ; because to suppose this, would be to suppose the
•particular nature of existence to be a thing prior to the ex
istence, and so a thing which makes way for existence,
without a cause or reason of existence. But that which in
any respect makes way for a thing coming into being, or
for any manner or circumstance of its first existence, must
be prior to the existence. The distinguished nature of the
effect, which is something belonging to the effect, cannot
have influence backward, to act before it is. The peculiar
nature of that thing called Volition, can do nothing, can
have no influence, while it is not. And afterwards it is too
late for its influence : for then the thing has made sure of
existence already, without its help.
So that it is indeed as repugnant to reason, to suppose
that an act of the Will should come into existence without
a Cause, as to suppose the human soul, or an angel, or the
globe of the earth, or the whole universe, should come into
existence without a Cause. And if once we allow, that
such a sort of effect as a Volition may come to pass with
out a Cause, how do we know but that many other sorts
of effects may do so too ? It is not the particular kind of
effect that makes the absurdity of supposing it lias being
without a Cause, but something which is common to all
things that ever begin to be, viz. That they are not self-
existent, or necessary in the nature of things.

SECT. IV.
Whether Volition can arise without a Cause, through the
activity of the nature of the soul.
The author of the Essay on the Freedom of the Will in
God and the Creatures, in answer to that objection against
his doctrine of a self-determining power in the Will, (p.
68' — 69.) That nothing is, or comes to pass, without a suf
ficient reason why it is, and why it is in this manner rather
than another, allows that it is thus in corporeal things,
which are, properly and philosophically speaking, passive
being ; but denies it is thus in spirits, which are beings of
an active nature, who have the spring of action within them
selves, andean determine themselves. By which it is plainly
supposed, that such an event as an act of the Will, may
come to pass in a spirit, without a sufficient reason why it
comes to pass, or why it is after this manner, rather than
another. But certainly this author, in this matter, must
be very unwary and inadvertent. For,
1. The objection or difficulty proposed by him seems to
be forgotten in his answer or solution. The very difficulty,
as he himself proposes it, is this : How an event can come
to pass without a sufficient reason why it is, or why it is
in this manner rather than another ? Instead of solving
this difficulty, with regard to Volition, as he proposes, he
forgets himself, and answers another question quite diverse,
viz. What is a sufficient reason why it is, and why it is in
this manner rather than another? .And he assigns the
active being's own determination as the Cause, and a
Cause sufficient for the effect; and leaves all the difficulty
unresolved, even, How the soul's own determination,
which he speaks of, came to exist, and to be what it was,
without a Cause? The activity of the soul may enable it
vol. i. c

to be the Cause of effects ; but it does not at all enable it
to be the subject of effects which have no Cause ; which
is the thing this author supposes concerning acts of the
Will. Activity of nature will no more enable a being to
produce effects, and determine the manner of their exist
ence, within itself, without a Cause, than out of itself, in
some other being. But if an active being should, through
its activity, produce and determine an effect in some ex
ternal object, how absurd would it be to say, that the
effect was produced without a Cause !
2. The question is not so much, How a spirit endowed
with activity comes to act, as why it exerts such an act, and
not another ; or why it acts with such a particular de
termination ? If activity of nature be the Cause why a
spirit (the soul of man, for instance) acts, and does not lie
still ; yet that alone is not the Cause why its action is
thus and thus limited, directed, and determined. Active
nature is a general thing; it is an ability or tendency of
nature to action, generally taken ; which may be a Cause
why the soul acts as occasion or reason is given ; but this
alone cannot be a sufficient Cause why the soul exerts
such a particular act, at such a time, rather than others.
In order to this there must be something besides a general
tendency to action-; there must also be a particular ten
dency to that individual action. — If it should be asked,
why the soul of man uses its activity, in such a manner as
it does ; and it should be answered, that the soul uses its
activity thus, rather than otherwise, because it has activity ;
would such an answer satisfy a rational man ? Would it
not rather be looked upon as a very impertinent one ?
3. An active being can bring no effects to pass by his
activity, but what are consequent upon his acting : he pro
duces nothing by his activity, any other way than by the
exercise of his activity, and so nothing but the fruits of its
exercise : he brings nothing to pass by a dormant activity.
But the exercise of his activity is action ; and so his ac
tion, or exercise of his activity, must be prior to the effects
of his activity. If an active being produces an effect in
another being, about which his activity is conversant, the
effect being the fruit of his activity, his activity must be
first exercised or exerted, and the effect of it must follow.
So it must be, with equal reason, if the active being is his
own object, and his activity is conversant about himself,
to produce and determine some effect in himself; still the
exercise of his activity must go before the effect, which he
brings to pass and determines by it. And therefore his
activity cannot be the Cause of the determination of the
first action, or exercise of activity itself, whence the effects
of activity arise ; for that would imply a contradiction ; it
would be to say, the first exercise of activity is before the
first exercise of activity, and is the Cause of it.
4. That the soul, though an active substance, cannot
diversify its own acts, but by first acting ; or be a deter
mining Cause of different acts, or any different effects,
sometimes of one kind, and sometimes of another, any
other way than in consequence of its own diverse acts, is
manifest by this ; that if so, then the same Cause, the
same causal influence, without variation in any respect,
would produce different effects at different times. For the
same substance of the soul before it acts, and the same ac
tive nature of the soul before it is exerted, i. e. before in the
order of nature, would be the Cause of different effects,
viz. different Volitions at different times. But the sub
stance of the soul before it acts, and its active nature be
fore it is exerted, are the same without variation. Fop
it is some act that makes the first variation in the Cause,
as to any causal exertion, force, or influence. But if it be
so, that the soul has no different causality, or diverse
causal influence, in producing these diverse effects ; then
it is evident, that the soul has no influence in the diversity
of the effect; and that the difference of the effect cannot
be owing to any thing in the soul ; or which is the same
thing, the soul does not determine the diversity of the
effect ; which is contrary to the supposition. — lt is true,
the substance of the soul before it acts, and before there is
any difference in that respect, may be in a different state
and circumstances : but those whom I oppose, will not
allow the different circumstances of the soul to be the de
termining Causes of the acts of the Will ; as being contrary
to their notion of self-determination.

18

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

5. Let us suppose, as these divines do, that there are no
acts of the soul, strictly speaking, but free Volitions ; then
it will follow, that the soul is an active being in nothing
further than it is a voluntary or elective being ; and when
ever it produces effects actively, it produces effects volun
tarily and electively. But to produce effects thus, is the
same thing as to produce effects in consequence of, and ac
cording to its own choice. And if so, then surely the soul
does not by its activity produce all its own acts of will or
choice themselves ; for this, by the supposition, is to pro
duce all its free acts of choice voluntarily and electively,
or in consequence of its own free acts of choice, which
brings the matter directly to the forementioned contradic
tion, of a free act of choice before the first free act of
choice. — According to these gentlemen's own notion of
action, if there arises in the mind a Volition without a free
act of the Will to produce it, the mind is not the voluntary
Cause of that Volition ; because it does not arise from, nor
is regulated by, choice or design. And therefore it cannot
be, that the mind should be the active, voluntary, deter
mining Cause of the first and leading Volition that relates
to the affair. — The mind being a designing Cause, only
enables it to produce effects in consequence of its design ;
it will not enable it to be the designing Cause of all its own
designs. The mind being an elective Cause, will enable it
to produce effects only in consequence of its elections, and
according to them ; but cannot enable it to be the elective
Cause of all its own elections ; because that supposes an
election before the first election. So the mind being an
active Cause enables it to produce effects in consequence
of its own acts, but cannot enable it to be the determining
Cause of all its own acts; for that is, in the same manner,
a contradiction; as it supposes a determining act conver
sant about the first act, and prior to it, having a causal
influence on its existence, and manner of existence.
I can conceive of nothing else that can be meant by the
soul having power to cause and determine its own Voli
tions, as a being to whom God has given a power of action,
but this ; that God has given power to the soul, sometimes
at least, to excite Volitions at its pleasure, or according as
it chooses. And this certainly supposes, in all such cases,
a choice preceding all Volitions which are thus caused,
even the first of them. Which runs into the forementioned
great absurdity.
Therefore the activity of the nature of the soul affords
no relief from the difficulties with which the notion of a
self-determining power in the Will is attended, nor will
it help, in the least, its absurdities and inconsistences.

SECT. V.
Showing, that if the things asserted in these Evasions should
be supposed to be true, they are altogether impertinent,
and cannot help the cause of' Arminian Liberty ; and how,
this being the state of the case, Arminian writers are
obliged to talk inconsistently.
What was last observed in the preceding section, may
show— not only that the active nature of the soul cannot
be a reason why an act of the Will is, or why it is in this
manner rather than another, but also — that if it could be
proved, that volitions are contingent events, their being and
manner of being not fixed or determined by any cause, or
any thing antecedent; it would not at all serve the purpose
of Arminians, to establish their notion of freedom, as con
sisting in the Will's determination of itself, which supposes
every free act of the Will to be determined by some act of
the Will going before ; inasmuch as for the Witt to deter
mine a thing, is the same as for the soul to determine a
thing by willing; and there is. no way that the Will can
determine an act of the Will, than by willing that act of
the Will, or, which is the same thing, choosing it. So that
here must be two acts of the Will in the case, one going
before another, one conversant about the other, and the
latter the object of the former, and chosen by the former.
If the Will does not cause and determine the act by choice,
it does not cause or determine it at all ; for that which is
* In his Book on the five Points, Second Edit. p. 350, 351, 352.

not determined by choice, is not determined voluntarily or
willingly : and to say, that the Will determines something
which the soul does not determine willingly, is as much as
to say, that something is done by the Will, which the soul
doth not with its Will.
So that if Arminian liberty of Will, consisting in the
Will determining its own acts, be maintained, the old ab
surdity and contradiction must be maintained, that every
free act of Will is caused and determined by a foregoing
free act of Will. Which doth not consist with the free aptSi
arising without any cause, and being so contingent, as not
to be fixed by any thing foregoing. So that this evasion,
must be given up, as not at all relieving this sort of liberty,
but directly destroying it. \
And if it should be supposed, that the soul determines.
its own acts of Will some other way, than by a foregoing act
of Will ; still it will help not their cause. If it determines
them by an act of the understanding, or some other power,
then the. Will does not determine itself; and so the self-
deicrmining power of the Will is given up. And what
liberty is there exercised, according to their own opinion of
liberty, by the soul being determined by something besides'
its own choice ? The acts of the Will, it is true, may be
directed, and effectually determined and fixed ; but it is not
done by the soul's own Will and pleasure : there is no
exercise at all of choice or Will in producing the effect :
and if Will and choice are not exercised in it, how is the
liberty of the Will exercised in it ?
So that let Arminians turn which way they please with
their notion of liberty, consisting in the Will deter
mining its own acts, their notion destroys itself. If they
hold every free act of Will to be determined by the soul _
own free choice, or foregoing free act of Will ; foregoing,
either in the order of time, or nature ; it implies that gross-
contradiction, that the first free act belonging to the affair,
is determined by a free act which is before it. Or if they.
say, that the free acts of the Will are determined by soma,
other act of the soul, and not an act of Will or choice ;
this also destroys their notion of liberty consisting in the,
acts of the Will being determined by the Will itself; or
if they hold that the acts of the Wiil are determined by.
nothing at all that is prior to them, but that they are con
tingent in that sense, that they are determined and fixed by
no cause at all ; this also destroys their notion of liberty,
consisting in the Will determining its own acts.
- This being the true state of the Arminian notion of
liberty, the writers who defend it are forced into gross in
consistences, in what they say upon this subject. To in
stance in Dr. Whitby ; he, in his discourse on the freedom
of the Will,* opposes the opinion of the Calvinists, who
place man's liberty only in a power of doing what he will,
as that wherein they plainly agree with Mr. Hobbes. And
yet he himself mentions the very same notion of liberty, as
the dictate of the sense and common reason of mankind, and'
a rule laid down by the light of nature ; viz. that liberty is a
power of acting from ourselves, or doing whatwewill.t
This is indeed, as he says, a thing agreeable to the sense and.
common reason of mankind; and therefore it is not so much
to be wondered at, that he unawares acknowledges it
against himself: for if liberty does not consist in this, what
else can be devised that it should consist in '! If it be said,
as Dr. Whitby elsewhere insists, that it does not only con
sist in liberty of doing what we will, but also a liberty of
willing without necessity : still the question returns, what
does tbat liberty of willing without necessity consist in,
but in a power of willing as we please, without being im
peded by a contrary necessity t or in other words, a liberty
for the soul in its willing to act according to its own
choice ? Yea, this very thing the same author seems to
allow, and suppose again and again, in the use he makes
of sayings of the fathers, whom he quotes as his vouchers..
Thus he cites the words of Origen, which he produces as a.
testimony on his side ;J "The soul acts by her own choice,
and it is free for her to incline to whatever part she will."
And those of Justin Martyr ; || " The doctrine of the
Christians is this, that nothing is done or suffered accord
ing to fate, but that every man doth good or evil accord
ing to his own free choice." And from Eusebius,
t Ibid. p. 325, 326.- J Ibid. p. 3-12. j| Ibid. p. 360, i

Sect. VI.

OF CHOOSING IN THINGS INDIFFERENT.

19

these words;* " If fate be established, philosophy and
piety are overthrown. — All these things depending upon
the necessity introduced by the stars, and not upon medita
tion and exercise proceeding from our own free
choice." And again, the words of Maccarius ;t " God,
to preserve the liberty of man's Will, suffered their
bodies to die, that it might be in their choice to turn to
good or evil."  " They who are acted by the Holy Spirit,
are not held under any necessity, but have liberty to turn
themselves, and do what they will in this life."
Thus, the Doctor in effect comes into that very notion of
liberty, which the Calvinists have ; which he at the same
time condemns, as agreeing with the opinion of Mr.
Hobbes, namely, The soul acting by its own choice, men
doing good or evil according to their own free choice, their
being in that exercise which pivceedsfrom their own free
choice, having it in their choice to turn to good or evil, and
doing what they will." So that if men exercise this liberty
in the acts of the Will themselves, it must be in exerting
acts of Will according to their own free choice ; or, exerting
acts of Will that proceed from their choice. And if it be
so, then let every one judge whether this does not suppose
a free choice going before the free act of Will, or whether an
act of choice does not go before that act of the Will which
proceedsfrom it. And if it be thus with all free acts of the
Will, then let every one judge, whether it will not follow
that there is a free choice going before the. first free act of
the Will exerted in the case ! And finally, let every one
judge whether in the scheme of these writers there be any
possibility of avoiding these absurdities.
If liberty consists, as Dr. Whitby himself says, in a
man's doing what he wilt; and a man exercises this liberty,
not only in external actions, but in the acts of the Will
themselves ; then so far as liberty is exercised in the latter,
it consists in willing what he wills : and if any say so, one
of these two things must be meant, either, 1. That a man
has power to will, as he does will ; because what he wills,
he wills ; and therefore power to will what he has power
to will. If this be their meaning, then all this mighty con
troversy about freedom of the Will and self-determining
power, comes wholly to nothing; all that is contended
for being no more than this, that the mind of man does
what it does, and is the subject of what it is the subject, or
that what is, is ; wherein none has any controversy with
them. Or, 2. The meaning must be, that a man has power
to will as he chooses to will : that is, he has power by
one act of choice to choose another ; by an antecedent act
of Will to choose a consequent act : and therein to execute
his own choice. And if this be their meaning, it is
nothing but shuffling with those they dispute with, and
baffling their own reason. For still the question returns,
wherein lies man's liberty in that antecedent act of Will
which chose the consequent act. The answer according
to the same principles must be, that his liberty in this also
lies in his willing as he would, or as he chose, or agree
able to another act of choice preceding that. And so the
question returns in infinitum, and the like _nswer must be
made in infinitum: in order to support their opinion,
there must be no beginning, . but free acts of Will must
have been chosen by foregoing free acts of Will in the soul
of every man, without beginning.

SECT. VI.
Concerning the Will determining in things which are per-.
fectly indifferent in the view of the mind.
A great argument for self-determining power, is the
supposed experience we universally have of an ability to
determine our Wills, in cases wherein no prevailing mo
tive is presented : the Will, as is supposed, has its choice
to make between two or more things, that are perfectly
equal in the view of the mind; and the Will is appa
rently altogether indifferent; and yet we find no difficulty
in coming to a choice ; the Will can instantly determine
itself to one, by a sovereign power which it has over itself,
without being moved by any preponderating inducement.
* In his Book on the five Points, Second Edit. p. 303
C 2

Thus the fore-mentioned author of an Essay on the
Freedom of the Will, S>-c. (p. 25, 26, 27.) supposes, " That
there are many instances, wherein the Will is determined
neither by present uneasiness, nor by the greatest apparent
good, nor by the last dictate of the understanding, nor by
any thing else, but merely by itself, as a sovereign self-
determining power of the soul ; and that the soul does
not will this or that action, in some cases, by any other
influence but because it will. Thus, says he, I can turn
my face to the south, or the north ; I can point with my
finger upward, or downward. — And thus, in some cases,
the Will determines itself in a very sovereign manner, be
cause it will, without a reason borrowed from the under
standing : and hereby it discovers its own perfect power
of choice, rising from within itself, and free from all in
fluence or restraint of any kind." And (p. 66, 70, 73,
74.) this author very expressly supposes the Will in many
cases to be determined by no motive at all, and acts alto
gether without motive, or ground of preference. — Here I
would observe,
1. The very supposition which is here made, directly
contradicts and overthrows itself. For the thing supposed,
wherein this grand argument consists, is, that among
several things the Will actually chooses one before ano
ther, at the same time that it is perfectly indifferent ; which
is the very same thing as to say, the mind has a preference,
at the same time that it has no preference. What is meant
cannot be, that the mind is indifferent before it comes to
have a choice, or until it has a preference ; for certainly this
author did not imagine he had a controversy with any
person in supposing this. Besides, it appears in fact, that
the thing which he supposes, is — not that the Will chooses
one thing before another, concerning which it is indifferent
before it chooses, but that the Will is indifferent when it
chooses ; and that it being otherwise than indifferent is not
until afterwards, in consequence of its choice; that the
chosen thing appearing preferable, and more agreeable than
another, arises from its choice already made. His words
are, (p. 30.) " Where the objects which are proposed ap
pear equally fit or good, the Will is left without a guide
or director ;" and therefore must take its own choice, by its
own determination ; it being properly a self-determining
power. And in such cases the Will does as it were make
a good to itself by its own choice, i. e. creates its own
pleasure or delight in this self-chosen good. Even as a
man by seizing upon a spot of unoccupied land, in an un
inhabited country, makes it his own possession and pro
perty, and as such rejoices in it. Where things were indif
ferent before, the Will finds nothing to make them more
agreeable, considered merely in themselves, but the plea
sure it feels arising from its own choice, and its perseverance
therein. We love many things which we have chosen, and
purely because we chose them."
This is as much as to say, that we first begin to prefer
many things, purely because we have preferred and chosen
them before. — These things must needs be spoken incon
siderately by this author. Choice or preference cannot be
before itself in the same instance, either in the order of
time or nature : It cannot be the foundation of itself, or
the consequence of itself. The very act of choosing one
thing rather than another, is preferring that thing, and that
is setting a higher value on that thing. But that the mind
sets a higher value on one thing than another, is not, in
the first place, the ji-uit of its setting a higher value on that
thing. This author says, (p. 36.) " The Will may be perfectly
indifferent, and yet the Will may determine itself to choose
one or the other." And again, in the same page, " I am
entirely indifferent to either ; and yet my Will may deter
mine itself to choose." And again, " Which I shall
choose must be determined by the mere act of my Will."
If the choice is determined by a mere act of Will, then
the choice is determined by a mere act of choice. And
concerning this matter, viz. That the act of the Will itself
is determined by act of choice, this writer is express, (p.
72.) Speaking of the case, where there is no superior fit
ness in objects presented, he has these words : " There it
must act by its own choice, and determine itself as it
t Ibid. p. 369, 370.

20

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

pleases." Where it is supposed that the very determina
tion, which is the ground and spring of the Will's act, is
an act of choice and pleasure, wherein one act is more
agreeable than another ; and this preference and superior
pleasure is the ground of all it does in the case. And if
so, the mind is not indifferent when it determines itself, but
had rather determine itself one wav than another. And
therefore the Will does not act at all in indifference; not
so much as in the first step it takes. If it be possible for
the understanding to act in indifference, yet surely the
Will never does ; because the Will beginning to act is the
very same thing as it beginning to choose or prefer. And
if in the very first act of the Will, the mind prefers some
thing, then the idea of that thing preferred, does at that
time preponderate, or prevail in the mind : or, which is the
same thing, the idea of it has a prevailing influence on the
Will. So that this wholly destroys the thing supposed,
viz. That the mind can by a sovereign power choose one
of two or more things, which in the view of the mind are,
in every respect, perfectly equal, one of which does not at
all preponderate, nor has any prevailing influence on the
mind above another.
So that this author, in his grand argument for the ability
of the Will to choose one of two or more things, concern
ing which it is perfectly indifferent, does at the same time,
in effect, deny the thing he supposes, even that the Will,
in choosing, is subject to no prevailing influence of the
view of the thing chosen. And indeed it is impossible to
offer this argument without overthrowing it ; the thing sup
posed in it being that which denies itself. To suppose the
Will to act at all in a state of perfect indifference, is to
assert that the mind chooses without choosing. To say
that when it is indifferent, it can do as it pleases, is to say
that it can follow its pleasure, when it has no pleasure to
follow. And therefore if there be any difficulty in the in
stances of two cakes, or two eggs, &c. which are exactly
alike, one as good as another ; concerning which this
author supposes the mind in fact has a choice, and so in
effect supposes that it has a preference ; it as much con
cerned himself to solve the difficulty, as it does those
whom he opposes. For if these instances prove any thing
to his purpose, they prove that a man chooses without
choice. And yet this is not to his purpose ; because if
this is what he asserts, his own words are as much against
him, and does as much contradict him, as the words of
those he disputes against can do.
2. There is no great difficulty in showing, in such in
stances as are alleged, not only that it must needs be so,
that the mind must be influenced in its choice by some
thing that has a preponderating influence upon it, but also
how it is so. A little attention to our own experience, and
a distinct consideration of the acts of our own minds, in
such cases, will be sufficient to clear up the matter.
Thus, supposing I have a chess-board before me ; and
because I am required by a superior, or desired by a
friend, or on some other consideration, I am determined to
touch some one of the spots or squares on the board with
my finger. Not being limited or directed, in the first pro
posal, to any one in particular ; and there being nothing in
the squares, in themselves considered, that recommends
any one of all the sixty-four, more than another ; in this
case, my mind determines to give itself up to what is vul-
gularly called accident,* by determining to touch that
square which happens to be most in view, which my eye
is especially upon at that moment, or which happens to
be then most in my mind, or which I shall be directed to
by some other such like accident. Here are several steps
of the mind proceeding (though all may be done, as it
were, in a moment). The first step is its general determina
tion that it will touch one of the squares. The next step
is another general determination to give itself up to acci
dent, in some certain way ; as to touch that which shall
be most in the eye or mind at that time, or to some other
such like accident. The third and last step is a particular
* I have elsewhere observed, what that is which is vulgarly called acci
dent ,- that it is nothing akin to the Arminian metaphysical notion of con
tingence, or something not connected with any thing foregoing ; but that it
is something that comes to pass in the course of things, unforeseen by men,
and not owing to their design.
t The reader is particularly requested to give due attention to these two
remarks, especially the former, as being of the utmost importance in the

determination to touch a certain individual spot, even that
square, which, by that sort of accident the mind has pitch
ed upon, has actually offered itself beyond others. Now
it is apparent that in none of these several steps does the
mind proceed in absolute indifference, but in each of them
is influenced by a preponderating inducement. So it is in
the first step, the mind's general determination to touch
one of the sixty-four spots : the mind is not absolutely in
different whether it does so or no ; it is induced to it, for
the sake of making some experiment, or by the desire of a
friend, or some other motive that prevails. So it is in the
second step, the mind determining to give itself up to acci
dent, by touching that which shall be most in the eye, or
the idea of which shall be most prevalent in the mind, &c.
The mind is not absolutely indifferent whether it proceeds,
by this rule or no; but chooses it, because it appears at
that time a convenient and requisite expedient in order to
fulfil the general purpose. And so it is in the third and
last step, which is determining to touch that individual spot
which actually does prevail in the mind's view. The mind
is not indifferent concerning this; but is influenced by a
prevailing inducement and reason ; which is, that this is a
prosecution of the preceding determination, which appear
ed requisite, and was fixed before in the second step.
Accident will ever serve a man, without hindering him
a moment, in such a case. Among a number of objects
in view, one will prevail in the eye, or in idea, beyond
others. When we have our eyes open in the clear sun
shine, many objects strike the eye at once, and innumera
ble images may be at once painted in it by the rays of
light ; but the attention of the mind is not equal to several
of thern at once ; or if it be, it does not continue so for any
time. And so it is with respect to the ideas of the mind
in general : several ideas are not in equal strength in the
mind's view and notice at once ; or at least, does not re
main so for any sensible continuance. There is nothing in
the world more constantly varying, than the ideas of the
mind ; they do not remain precisely in the same state for
the least perceivable space of time ; as is evident by this :
— That all time is perceived by the mind, only by the suc
cessive changes of its own ideas. Therefore while the per
ceptions of the mind remain precisely in the same state,
there is no perceivable length of time, because no sensible
succession at all.
As the acts of the Will, in each step of the foremen
tioned procedure, do not come to pass without a particular
cause, but every act is owing to a prevailing inducement;
so the accident, as I have called it, or that which happens in
the unsearchable course of things, to which the mind yields
itself, and by which it is guided, is not any thing that
comes to pass without a cause. The mind in determining
to be guided by it, is not determined by something that
has no cause ; any more than if it be determined to be
guided by a lot, or the casting of a die. For though the
die falling in such a manner be accidental to him that casts
it, yet none will suppose that there is no cause why it
falls as it does. The involuntary changes in the succes
sion of our ideas, though the cause may not be observed,
have as much a cause, as the changeable motions of the
motes that float in the air, or the continual, infinitely
various, successive changes of the unevennesses on the
surface of the water.
There are two things especially, which are probably the
occasions of confusion in the minds of them who insist
upon it, that the Will acts in a proper indifference, and
without being moved by any inducement, in its determi
nations in such cases as have been mentioned.f
1 . They seem to mistake the point in question, or at
least not to keep it distinctly in view. The question they
dispute about, is, Whether the mind be indifferent about
the objects presented, one of which is to be taken, touched,
pointed to, &c. as two eggs, two cakes, which appear
equally good. Whereas the question to be considered, is,
Whether the person be indifferent with respect to his own
controversy. If he be pleased to examine, with this view, the most popular
advocates for the liberty of indifference, he will find them continually con
founding the objects of choice, and the acts of choice. When they have
shown, with much plausibility, that there is no perceivable difference, or
ground of choice, in the objects, they hastily infer the same indifference as
applicable to the acts of choice. — W.

Sect. VII.

OF LIBERTY OF INDIFFERENCE.

21

actions ; whether he does not, on some consideration or
other, prefer one act with respect to these objects before
another. The mind in its determination and choice, in
these cases, is not most immediately and directly conver
sant about the objects presented; but the acts to be done
concerning these objects. The objects may appear equal,
and the mind may never properly make any choice between
them ; but the next act of the Will being about the exter
nal actions to be performed, taking, touching, &c. these
may not appear equal, and one action may properly be
chosen before another. In each step of the mind's pro
gress, the determination is not about the objects, unless
indirectly and improperly, but about the actions, which it
chooses for other reasons than any preference of the objects,
and for reasons not taken at all from the objects.
There is no necessity of supposing, that the mind does
ever at all properly choose one of the. objects before an
other ; either before it has taken, or afterwards. Indeed
the man chooses to take or touch one rather than another ;
but not because it chooses the thing taken, or touched, but
from foreign considerations. The case may be so, that of
two things offered, a man may, for certain reasons, prefer
taking that which he undervalues, and choose to neglect
that which his mind prefers. In such a case, choosing the
thing taken, and choosing to take, are diverse : and so they
are in a case where the things presented are equal in the
mind's esteem, and neither of them preferred. All that
fact and experience makes evident, is, that the mind
chooses one action rather than another. And therefore the
arguments which they bring, in order to be to their pur
pose, should be to prove that the mind chooses the action
in perfect indifference, with respect to that action ; and not
to prove that the mind chooses the action in perfect indif
ference with respect to the object ; which is very possible,
and yet the Will not act at all without prevalent induce
ment, and proper preponderation.
2. Another reason of confusion and difficulty in this
matter, seems to be, not distinguishing between a general
indifference, or an indifference with respect to what is to
be done in a more distant and general view of it, and a
particular indifference, or an indifference with respect to
the next immediate act, viewed with its particular and
present circumstances. A man may be perfectly indiffer
ent with respect to his own actions, in the former respect ;
and yet not in the latter. Thus in the foregoing instance
of touching one of the squares of a chess-board ; when it is
first proposed that I should touch one of them, I may be
perfectly indifferent which I touch ; because as yet I view
the matter remotely and generally, being but in the first
step of the mind's progress in the affair. But yet, when I
am actually come to tbe last step, and the very next thing
to be determined is which is to be touched, having already
determined that 1 will touch that which happens to be most
in my eye or mind, and my mind being now fixed on a
particular one, the act of touching that, considered thus
immediately, and in these particular present circumstances,
is not what my mind is absolutely indifferent about.

SECT. VII..
Concerning the notion of Liberty of Will, consisting in
Indifference.
What has been said in the foregoing section, has a ten
dency in some measure to evince the absurdity of the
opinion of such as place Liberty in Indifference, or in that
equilibrium whereby the Will is without all antecedent
bias ; that the determination of the Will to either side may
be entirely from itself, and that it may be owing only to its
own power, and the sovereignty which it has over itself,
that it goes this way rather than that*
But inasmuch as this has been of such long standing,
* Dr. Whitby, and some other Arminians, make a distinction of differ
ent kinds of freedom ; one of God, and perfect spirits above ; another of
persons in a state of trial. The former Dr. Whitby allows to consist with
necessity ; the latter he holds to be without necessity : and this latter he
supposes to be requisite to our being the subject of praise or dispraise, re
wards or punishments, precepts and prohibitions, promises and threats, ex
hortations and dehortahons, and a covenant treaty. And to this freedom he
supposes Indifference to be requisite. In his Discourse on the five points,
cp, 299, 300.) he says; "It is a freedom, (speaking of a freedom not only from
co-action, but from necessity) requisite, as we conceive, to render us capa-

and has been so generally received, and so much insisted
on by Pelagians, Semi-Pelagians, Jesuits, Socinians, Armi
nians, and others, it may deserve a more full consideration.
And therefore I shall now proceed to a more particular and
thorough inquiry into this notion.
Now lest some should suppose that I do not understand
those that place Liberty in Indifference, or should charge
me with misrepresenting their opinion, I would signify, that
I am sensible, there are some, who, when they talk of Li
berty of the Will as consisting in Indifference, express
themselves as though they would not be understood to mean
the Indifference of the inclination or tendency of the Will,
but an Indifference of the soul's power of willing; or that
the Will, with respect to its power or ability to choose, is
indifferent, can go either way indifferently, either to the
right hand or left, either act or forbear to act, one as well as
the other. This indeed seems to be a refining of some
particular writers only, and newly invented, which will by
no means consist with the manner of expression used by
the defenders of Liberty of Indifference in general. I wish
such refiners would thoroughly consider, whether ihey dis
tinctly know their own meaning, when they make a distinc
tion between an Indifference of the soul as to its power or
ability of choosing, and the soul's Indifference as to the
preference or choice itself; and whether they do not de
ceive themselves in imagining that they have any distinct
meaning at all. The Indifference of the soul as to its
ability or power to will, must be the same thing as the In
difference of the state of the power or faculty of the Will,
or the Indifference of the state which the soul itself, which
has that power or faculty, hitherto remains in, as to the
exercise of that power, in the choice it shall by and by
make. But not to insist any longer on the inexplicable abstruse-
ness of this distinction ; let what will be supposed con
cerning the meaning of them that use it, thus much must
at least be intended by Arminians when they talk of In
difference as essential to Liberty of Will, if they intend
any thing, in any respect to their purpose, viz. That it is
such an Indifference as leaves the Will not determined
already ; but free from actual possession, and vacant of
predetermination, so far, that there may be room for the
exercise of the self-determining power of the Will ; and
that the Will's freedom consists in, or depends upon, this
vacancy and opportunity that is left for the Will itself to
be the determiner of the act that is to be the free act.
And here I would observe in the first place, that to make
out this scheme of Liberty, the Indifference must be per
fect and absolute; there must be a perfect freedom from all
antecedent preponderation or inclination. Because if the
Will be already inclined, before it exerts its own sovereign
power on itself, then its inclination is not wholly owing to
itself: if when two opposites are proposed to the soul for
its choice, the proposal does not find the soul wholly in a
state of Indifference, then it is not found in a state of
Liberty for mere self-determination. — The least degree of
an antecedent bias must be inconsistent with their notion
of Liberty. For so long as prior inclination possesses the
Will, and is not removed, the former binds the latter, so
that it is utterly impossible that the Will should act other
wise than agreeably to it. Surely the Will cannot act or
choose contrary to a remaining prevailing inclination of the
Will. To suppose otherwise, would be the same thing as
to suppose that the Will is inclined contrary to its present
prevailing inclination, or contrary to what it is inclined to.
That which the Will prefers, to that, all things considered,
it preponderates and inclines. It is equally impossible for
the Will to choose contrary to its own remaining and pre
sent preponderating inclination, as it is to prefer contrary
to its own present preference, or choose contrary to its own
present choice. The Will, therefore, so long as it is under
the influence of an old preponderating inclination, is not at
Liberty for a new free act ; or any, that shall now be an
ble of trial or probation, and to render our actions worthy of praise or dis
praise, and our persons of rewards or punishments." And in the next page,
speaking of the same matter, he says, " Excellent to this purpose, are the
words of Mr. Thorndake : We say not, that Indifference is requisite to all
freedom, but to the freedom of man alone in this state of travail andpro-
ficience ,- the ground of which is God's tender of a treaty, and conditions
of peace and reconcilement to fallen man, together with those precepts
and prohibitions, those promises and threats, those exhortations and de-
hortations, it is enforcedwith."

22

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

act of self-determination. That which is a self-determined
free act, must be one which the Will determines in the
possession and use of a peculiar sort of Liberty ; such as
consists in a freedom from every thing, which, if it were
there, would make it impossible that the Will, at that time,
should be otherwise than that way to which it tends.*
If any one should say, there is no need that the Indif
ference should be perfect ; but although a former inclina
tion still remains, yet, if it be not very strong, possibly the
strength of the Will may oppose and overcome it : — This
is grossly absurd ; for the strength of the Will, let it be
never so great, gives it no such sovereignty and command,
as to cause itself to prefer and not to prefer at the same
time, or to choose contrary to its own present choice.
Therefore, if there be the least degree of antecedent pre
ponderation of the Will, it must be perfectly abolished,
before the Will can be at liberty to determine itself the
contrary way. And if the Will determines itself the same
way, it was not a free determination, because the Will is
not wholly at liberty in so doing ; its determination is not
altogether from itself, but it was partly determined before,
in its prior inclination : and all the freedom the Will ex
ercises in the case, is in an increase of inclination, which
it gives itself, added to what it had by a foregoing bias ;
so much is from itself, and so much is from perfect in
difference. For though the Will had a previous tendency
that way, yet as to that additional degree of inclination,
it had no tendency. Therefore the previous tendency is of
no consideration, with respect to the act wherein the Will
is free. So that it comes to the same thing which was said
at first, that as to the act of the Will, wherein the Will is
free, there must be perfect Indifference, or equilibrium.
To illustrate this : suppose a sovereign self-moving
power in a natural body ; but that the body is in motion
already, by an antecedent bias ; for instance, gravitation
towards the centre of the earth ; and has one. degree of mo
tion by virtue of that previous tendency ; but by its self-
moving power it adds one, degree more to its motion, and
moves so much more swiftly towards the centre of the
earth than it would do by its gravity only : it is evident,
all that is owing to a self-moving power in this case, is
the additional degree of motion ; and that the other degree
which it had from gravity, is of no consideration in the
case ; the effect is just the same, as if the body had re
ceived from itself one degree of motion from a state of
perfect rest. So, if we suppose a self-moving power given
to the scale of a balance, which has a weight of one degree
beyond the opposite scale; and if we ascribe to it an
ability to add to itself another degree of force the same
way, by its self-moving power; this is just the same
thing as to ascribe to it a power to give itself one degree
of preponderation from a perfect equilibrium ; and so
much power as the scale has to give itself an over-ba
lance from a perfect equipoise, so much self-moving self-
preponderating power it has, and no more. So that its
free power this way is always to be measured from perfect
equilibrium. I need say no more to prove, that if Indifference be es
sential to Liberty, it must be perfect Indifference ; and
that so far as the Will is destitute of this, so far is it des
titute of that freedom by which it is in a capacity of being
its own determiner, without being at all passive, or subject
to the power and sway of something else, in its motions
and determinations.
Having observed these things, let us now try whether
this notion of the Liberty of Will consisting in Indifference
and equilibrium, and the Will's self-determination in such
a state, be not absurd and inconsistent.
And here I would lay down this as an axiom of undoubt
ed truth ; that every free act is done in a state of freedom,
and not only after 'such a state. If an act of the Will be
an act wherein the soul is free, it must be exerted in a
stale of freedom, and in the time of freedom. It will not
suffice, that the act immediately follows a state of Liberty ;
but Liberty must yet continue, and co-exist with the act ;
the soul remaining in possession of Liberty. Because that
* There is a little intricacy in this mode of expression. It may be thus
illustrated. Suppose it wero asserted, " That it is impossible for the Will
To be otherwise at any one given time, than that way to which it tends "
Such a proposition one might think, none who understood the terms would

is the notion of a free act of the soul, even an act wherein
the soul uses or exercises Liberty. But if the soul is not,
in the very time of the act, in the possession of Liberty, it
cannot at that time be in the use of it.
Now the question is, whether ever the soul of man puts
forth an act of Will, while it yet remains in a state of
Liberty, viz. as implying a state of Indifference ; or whe
ther the soul ever exerts an act of preference, while at that
very time the Will is in a perfect equilibrium, not inclining
one way more than another. The very putting of the
question is sufficient to show the absurdity of the affirma
tive answer : for how ridiculous would it be for any body
to insist, that the soul chooses one thing before another,
when at the very same instant it is perfectly indifferent
with respect to each ! This is the same thing as to say, the
soul prefers one thing to another, at the very same time
that it has no preference. — Choice and preference can no
more be in a state of Indifference, than motion can be in a
state of rest, or than the preponderation of the scale of a
balance can be in a state of equilibrium. Motion may be
the next moment after rest; but cannot co-exist with it,
in any, even the least, part of it. So choice may be imme
diately after a state of Indifference, but cannot co-exist
with it : even the very beginning of it is not in a state of
Indifference. And therefore, if this be Liberty, no act of
the Will, in any degree, is ever performed in a state of
Liberty, or in the time of Liberty. Volition and Liberty
are so far from agreeing together, and being essential one
to another, that they are contrary one to another, and one
excludes and destroys the other, as much as motion ant}
rest, light and darkness, or life and death. So that the
Will acts not at all, does not so much as begin to act, in
the time of such Liberty : freedom has ceased to be, at the
first moment of action ; and therefore Liberty cannot reach
the action, to affect, or qualify it, or give it a denomina
tion, any more than if it had ceased to be twenty years
before the action began. The moment that Liberty ceases
to be, it ceases to be a qualification of any thing. If
light and darkness succeed one another instantaneously,
light qualifies nothing after it is gone out, to make any
thing lightsome or bright, at the first moment of perfect
darkness, any more than months or years after. Life de
nominates nothing vital, at the first moment of perfect
death. So freedom, if it consists in or implies Indiffer
ence, can denominate nothing free, at the first moment of
preference or preponderation. Therefore it is manifest, that
no Liberty which the soul is possessed of, or ever uses, in
any of its acts of volition, consists in Indifference; and
that the opinion of such as suppose, that Indifference be
longs to the very essence of Liberty, is to the highest
degree absurd and contradictory.
If any one should imagine, that this manner of arguing
is nothing but a trick and delusion ; and to evade the
reasoning, should say, that the thing wherein the Will
exercises its Liberty, is not in the act of choice or prepon
deration itself, but in determining itself to a certain choice
or preference ; that the act of the Will wherein it is free,
and uses its own sovereignty, consists in its causing or de
termining the change or transition from a state of indiffer
ence to a certain preference or determining to give a certain
turn to the balance, which has hitherto been even ; and
that the Will exerts this act in a state of Liberty, or while
the Will yet remains in equilibrium, and perfect master of
itself— 1 say, if any one chooses to express his notion of
Liberty after this, or some such manner, let us see if he
can succeed any better than before.
What is asserted is, that the Will, while it yet remains
in perfect equilibrium, without preference, determines to
change itself from that state, and excite in itself a certain
choice or preference. Now let us see whether this does
not come to the same absurdity we had before. If it be
so, that the Will, while it yet remains perfectly indifferent,
determines to put itself out of that state, and'to give itself
a certain preponderation ; then I would inquire, whether
the soul does not determine this of choice ; or whether the
Will coming to a determination to do so, be not the same
controvert; for it would be to controvert this proposition, " The Will is as
its tendency." And yet, the advocates for a self-determining power must
assert a liberty which denies this plain proposition — W

Sect. VII.

OF LIBERTY OF INDIFFERENCE.

2:1

thing as the soul coming to a choice to do so. If the soul
does not determine this of choice, or in the exercise of
choice, then it does not determine it voluntarily. And if
the soul does not determine it voluntarily, or of its own
Will, then in what sense does its Will determine it '! And
if the Will does not determine it, then how is the Liberty
of the Will exercised in the determination? What sort of
Liberty is exercised by the soul in those determinations,
wherein there is no exercise of choice, which are not volun
tary, and wherein the Will is not concerned ? But if it be
allowed, that this determination is an act of choice, and it
be insisted on, that the soul, while it yet remains in a state
of perfect Indifference, chooses to put itself out of that
state, and to turn itself one way ; then the soul is already
come to a choice ; and chooses that way. And so we have
the very same absurdity which we had before. Here is the
soul in a state of choice, and in a state of equilibrium, both
at the same time : the soul already choosing one way,
while it remains in a state of perfect Indifference, and has
no choice of one way more than the other. — And indeed
this manner of talking, though it may a little hide the
absurdity, in the obscurity of expression, increases the in
consistence. To say, the free act of the Will, or the act
which the Will exerts in a state of freedom and Indiffer
ence, does not imply preference in it, but is what the will
does in order to cause or produce a preference, is as much
as to say, the soul chooses (for to will and to choose are
the same thing) without choice, and prefers without pre
ference, in order to cause or produce the beginning of a
preference, or the first choice. And that is, that the first
choice is exerted without choice, in order to produce itself!
If any, to evade these things, should own, that a state of
Liberty and a state of Indifference are not the same, and
that the former may be without the latter ; but should say,
that Indifference is still essential to freedom, as it is neces
sary to go immediately before it ; it being essential to the
freedom of an act of Will that it should directly and im
mediately arise out of a state of Indifference ; still this will
not help the cause of Arminian Liberty, or make it con
sistent with itself. For if the act springs immediately out
of a state of Indifference, then it does not arise from
antecedent choice or preference. But if the act arises
directly out of a state of Indifference, without any inter
vening choice to determine it, then the act not being deter
mined by choice, is not determined by the Will ; the mind
exercises no free choice in the affair, and free choice and
free Will have no hand in the determination of the act.
Which is entirely inconsistent with their notion of the
freedom of volition.
If any should suppose, that these absurdities may be
avoided, by saying, that the Liberty of the mind consists
in a power to suspend the act of the Will, and so to keep it
in a state of Indifference, until there has been opportunity
for consideration ; and so shall say, that however Indiffer
ence is not essential to Liberty in such a manner, that the
mind must make its choice in a state of Indifference, which
is an inconsistency, or that (he act of Will must spring
immediately out of Indifference ; yet Indifference may be
essential to the Liberty of acts of the Will in this respect;
viz. That Liberty consists in a power of the mind to for
bear or suspend the act of volition, and keep the mind in
a state of Indifference for the present, Until there has been
opportunity for proper deliberation : I say, if any one
imagines that this helps the matter, it is a great mistake :
it reconciles no inconsistency, and relieves no difficulty 
For here the following things must be observed :
1 . That this suspending of volition, if there be properly
any such thing, is itself an act of volition. If the mind
determines to suspend its act, it determines it voluntarily ;
it chooses, on some consideration, to suspend it. And this
choice or determination, is an act of the Will : And indeed
it is supposed to be so in the very hypothesis ; for it is sup
posed that the Liberty of the Will consists in its power to
do this, and that its doing it is the very thing wherein the
Will exercises its Liberty. But how can the Will exercise
Liberty in it, if it be not an act of the W ill ? The Liberty of
the Will is not exercised in any thing but what the Will does.
2. This determining to suspend acting is not only an act
of the Will, but it is supposed to be the only free act of the
Will ; because it is said, that this is the thing wherein the

Liberty of the Will consists. — If so, then this is all the act of
Will that we have to consider in this controversy. And
now, the former question returns upon us ; viz. Wherein
consists the freedom of the will in those acts wherein it is
free .' And if this act of determining a suspension be the
only act in which the Will is free, then wherein consists the
Will's freedom with respect to this act of suspension ? And
how is Indifference essential to this act ? The answer must
be, according to what is supposed in the evasion under
consideration, that the Liberty of the Will in this act of
suspension, consists in a power to suspend even this act,
until there has been opportunity for thorough deliberation.
But this will be to plunge directly into the grossest non
sense : for it is the act of suspension itself that we are
speaking of; and there is no room for a space of delibera
tion and suspension in order to determine whether we will
suspend or no. For that supposes, that even suspension
itself may be deferred : which is absurd ; for the very defer
ring the determination of suspension, to consider whether we
will suspend or no, will be actually suspending. For dur
ing the space of suspension, to consider whether to suspend,
the act is, ipso facto, suspended. There is no medium
between suspending to act, and immediately acting; and
therefore no possibility of avoiding either the one or the
other one moment.
And besides, this is attended with ridiculous absurdity
another way : for now, it seems, Liberty consists wholly in
the mind having power to suspend its determination
whether to suspend or no ; that there may be time for con
sideration, whether it be best to suspend. And if Liberty
consists in this only, then this is the Liberty under con
sideration. We have to inquire now, how Liberty, with
respect to this act of suspending a determination of sus
pension, consists in Indifference, or how Indifference is
essential to it. The answer, according to the hypothesis
we are upon, must be, that it consists in a power of sus
pending even this last-mentioned act, to have time to
consider whether to suspend that. And then the same
difficulties and inquiries return over again with respect to
that ; and so on for ever. Which, if it would show any
thing, would show only that there is no such thing as a
free act. It drives the exercise of freedom back in infini
tum ; and that is to drive it out of the world.
And besides all this, there is a delusion, and a latent
gross contradiction in the affair another way ; inasmuch
as in explaining how, or in what respect, the Will is free,
with regard to a particular act of volition, it is said, that
its Liberty consists in a power to determine to suspend
that act, which places Liberty not in that act of volition
which the inquiry is about, but altogether in another ante
cedent act. Which contradicts the thing supposed in both
the question and answer. The question is, wherein con
sists the mind's Liberty in any particular act of volition ?
And the answer, in pretending to show wherein lies the
mind's Liberty in that act, in effect says, it does not lie in
that act at all, but in another, viz. a volition to suspend
that act. And therefore the answer is both contradictory,
and altogether impertinent and beside the purpose. For
it does not show wherein the Liberty of the Will consists
in the act in question ; instead of that, it supposes it does
not consist in that act at all, but in another distinct from
it, even a volition to suspend that act, and take time to
consider of it. And no account is pretended to be given
wherein the mind is free with respect to that act, wherein this
answer supposes the Liberty of the mind indeed consists,
viz. the act of suspension, or of determining the suspension.
On the whole, it is exceeding manifest, that the Liberty
of the mind does not consist in Indifference, and that In
difference is not essential or necessary to it, or at all be
longing to it, as the Arminians suppose ; that opinion being
full of nothing but self-contradiction.

SECT. VIII.
Concerning the supposed Liberty of the Will, as opposite to
all Necessity.
It is chiefly insisted on by Arminians, in this contro
versy, as a thing most important and essential in human

24

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

Liberty, that volitions, or the acts of the Will, are con
tingent events ; understanding contingence as opposite,
not only to constraint, but to all Necessity. Therefore I
would particularly consider this matter.
And, First, I would inquire, whether there is or can be
any such thing, as a volition which is contingent in such a
sense, as not only to come to pass without any Necessity
of constraint or co-action, but also without a Necessity of
consequence, or an infallible connexion with any thing fore
going. — Secondly, Whether, if it were so, this would at all
help the cause of Liberty.
I. I would consider whether volition is a thing that ever
does or can come to pass, in this manner, contingently.
And here it must be remembered, that it has been already
shown, that nothing can ever come to pass without a cause,
or a reason, why it exists in this manner rather than an
other ; and the evidence of this has been particularly ap
plied to the acts of the Will. Now if this be so, it will
demonstrably follow, that the acts of the Will are never
contingent, or without Necessity, in the sense spoken of;
inasmuch as those things which have a cause, or a rea
son of their existence, must be connected with their cause.
This appears by the following considerations.
1 . For an event to have a cause and ground of its ex
istence, and yet not to be connected with its cause, is an
inconsistence. - For if the event be not connected with the
cause, it is not dependent on the cause ; its existence is as
it were loose from its influence, and may attend it, or may
not; it being a mere contingence, whether it follows or
attends the influence of the cause, or not : And that is the
same thing as not to be dependent on it. And to say, the
event is not dependent on its cause, is absurd ; it is
the same thing as to say, it is not its cause, nor the event
the effect of it ; for dependence on the influence of a cause
is the very notion of an effect. If there be no such rela
tion between one thing and another, consisting in the con
nexion and dependence of one thing on the influence of
another, then it is certain there is no such relation be
tween them as is signified by the terms cause and effect.
So far as an event is dependent on a cause, and connected
with it, so much causality is there in the case, and no
more. The cause does, or brings to pass, no more in any
event, than is dependent on it. If we say, the connexion
and dependence is not total, but partial, and that the effect,
though it has some connexion and dependence, yet is not
entirely dependent on it ; that is the same thing as to say,
that not all that is in the event is an effect of that cause,
but that only part of it arises from thence, and part some
other way-
2. If there are some events which are not necessarily
connected with their causes, then it will follow, that there
are some things which come to pass without any cause,
contrary to the supposition. For if there be any event
which was not necessarily connected with the influence of
the cause under such circumstances, then it was contingent
whether it would attend or follow the influence of the
cause, or no ; it might have followed, and it might not,
when the cause was the same, its influence the same, and
under the same circumstances. And if so, why did it
follow, rather than not follow '! Of this there is no cause
or reason. Therefore here is something without any cause
or reason why it is, viz. the following of the effect on the
influence of the cause, with which it was not necessarily
connected. If there be no necessary connexion of the
effect on anv thing antecedent, then we may suppose that
sometimes the event will follow the cause, and sometimes
not, when the cause is the same, and in every respect in
the same state and circumstances. And what can be the
cause and reason of this strange phenomenon, even this
diversity, that in one instance, the effect should follow, in
another not? It is evident by the supposition, that this is
wholly without any cause or ground. Here is something
in the present manner of the existence of things, and state
of the world, that is absolutely without a cause. Which
is contrary to the supposition, and contrary to what has
been before demonstrated.
3. To suppose there are some events which have a
cause and ground of their existence, that yet are not ne
cessarily connected with their cause, is to suppose that
they have a cause which is not their cause. Thus ; if the

effect be not necessarily connected with the cause, with its
influence, and influential circumstances ; then, as I ob
served before, it is a thing possible and supposable, that
the cause may sometimes exert the same influence, under
the same circumstances, and yet the effect not follow.
And if this actually happens in any instance, this instance
is a proof, in fact, that the influence of the cause is not
sufficient to produce the effect. For if it had been suffi
cient, it would have done it. And yet, by the supposition*
in another instance, the same cause, with perfectly the
same influence, and when all circumstances which have
any influence are the same, it was followed with the effect.
By which it is manifest, that the effect in this last instance
was not owing to the influence of the cause, but must
come to pass some other way. For it was proved before,
that the influence of the cause was not sufficient to pro
duce the effect. And if it was not sufficient to produce
it, then the production of it could not be owing to that
influence, but must be owing to something else, or owing
to nothing. And if the effect be not owing to the influ
ence of the cause, then it is not the cause. Which brings
us to the contradiction of a cause, and no cause, that
which is the ground and reason of the existence of a
thing, and at the same time is not the ground and reason
of its existence.
If the matter be not already so plain as to render any
further reasoning upon it impertinent, I would say, that
which seems to be the cause in the supposed case, can be
no cause ; its power and influence having, on a full trial,
proved insufficient to produce such an effect : and if it be
not sufficient to produce it, then it does not produce it. To
say otherwise, is to say, there is power to do that which
there is not power to do. If there be in a cause sufficient
power exerted, and in circumstances sufficient to produce
an effect, and so the effect be actually produced at one
time ; all these things concurring, will produce the effect
at all times. And so we may turn it the other way ; that
which proves not sufficient at one time, cannot be sufficient
at another, with precisely the same influential circum-:
stances. And therefore if the effect follows, it is not
owing to that cause ; unless the different time be a circum^
stance which has influence : but that is contrary to the
supposition ; for it is supposed that all circumstances that
have influence, are the same. And besides, this would be to
suppose the time to be the cause ; which is contrary to the
supposition of the other thing being the cause. But if
merely diversity of time has no influence, then it is evident
tbat it is as much of an absurdity to say, the cause was
sufficient to produce the effect at one time, and not at
another ; as to say, that it is sufficient to produce the
effect at a certain time, and yet not sufficient to produce
the same effect at the same time.
On the whole, it is clearly manifest, that every effect has
a necessary connexion with its cause, or with that which
is the true ground and reason of its existence. And there
fore, if there be no event without a cause, as was proved
before, then no event whatsoever is contingent, in the
manner that Arminians suppose the free acts of the Will
to be contingent.

SECT. IX.
Of the Connexion of the Acts of the Will with the
Dictates of the Understanding.
It is manifest, that no Acts of the Will are contingent,
in such a sense as to be without all necessity, or so as not
to be necessary with a necessity of consequence and Con
nexion ; because every Act of the Will is some way con
nected with the Understanding, and is as the greatest appar
rent good is, in the manner which has already been explained ;
namely, that the soul always wills or chooses that which,
in the present view of the mind, considered in the whole
of that view, and all that belongs to it, appears most agree
able. Because, as was observed before, nothing is more
evident than that, when men act voluntarily, and do whaj.
they please, then they do what appears most agreeable to
them ; and to say otherwise, would be as much as to af
firm, that men do not choose what appears to suit them

Sect. IX.

WILL CONNECTED WITH UNDERSTANDING.

25

best, or what seems most pleasing to them ; or that they
do not choose what they prefer. Which brings the matter
to a contradiction.
And as it is very evident in itself, that the Acts of the
W ill have some Connexion with the Dictates or views of the
Understanding, so this is allowed by some of the chief of
the Arminian writers ; particularly by Dr. Whitby and
Dr. Samuel Clark. Dr. Turnbull, though a great enemy
to the doctrine of necessity, allows the same thing. In
his Christian Philosophy, (p. 196.) he with much approba
tion cites another philosopher, as of the same mind, in
these words : " No man (says an excellent philosopher)
sets himself about any thing, but upon some view or
other, which serves him for a reason for what he does ; and
whatsoever faculties he employs, the Understanding, with
such light as it has, well or ill formed, constantly leads ;
and by that light, true or false, all her operative powers are
directed. The Will itself, how absolute and incontrollable
soever it may be thought, never fails in its obedience to
the Dictates of the Understanding. Temples have their
sacred images; and we see what influence they have
always had over a great part of mankind ; but in truth,
the ideas and images in men's minds are the invisible
powers that constantly govern them ; and to these they all
Eay universally a ready submission." But whether this
e in a just consistence with themselves, and their own
. notions of liberty, I desire may now be impartially con
sidered. Dr. Whitby plainly supposes, that the Acts and deter
minations of the Will always follow the Understanding's
view of the greatest good to be obtained, or evil to be
avoided ; or, in other words, that the determinations of
the Will constantly and infallibly follow these two things
in the Understanding : 1. The degree of good to be obtain
ed, and evil to be avoided, proposed to the Understanding,
and apprehended, viewed, and taken notice of by it. 2.
The degree of the Understanding's apprehension of that good
or evil ; which is increased by attention and consideration.
That this is an opinion in which he is exceeding peremptory,
(as he is in every opinion which he maintains in his con
troversy with the Calvinists,) with disdain of the contrary
opinion, as absurd and self-contradictory, will appear by
the following words, in his Discourse on the Five Points.*
" Now, it is certain, that what naturally makes the Un
derstanding to perceive, is evidence proposed, and appre
hended, considered or adverted to : for nothing else can be
requisite to make us come to the knowledge of the truth.
Again, what makes the Will choose, is something approved
by the Understanding ; and consequently appearing to the
soul as good. And whatsoever it refuseth, is something
represented by the Understanding, and so appearing to the
Will, as evil. Whence all that God requires of us is and
can be only this ; to refuse the evil, and choose the good.
Wherefore, to say that evidence proposed, apprehended,
and considered, is not sufficient to make the Understand
ing approve ; or that the greatest good proposed, the great
est evil threatened, when equally believed and reflected
on, is not sufficient to engage the Will to choose the good
and refuse the evil, is in effect to say, that which alone doth
move the Will to choose or to refuse, is not sufficient to en
gage it so to do ; which being contradictory to itself, must
of necessity be false. Be it then so, that we naturally have
an aversion to the truths proposed to us in the gospel; that
only can make us indisposed to attend to them, but cannot
hinder our conviction, when we do apprehend them, and
attend to them. — Be it, that there is in us also a renilency
to the good we are to choose ; that only can indispose us
to believe it is, and to approve it as our chiefest good. Be
it, that we are prone to the evil that we should decline ;
that only can render it the more difficult for us to believe
it is the worst of evils. But yet, what we do really believe to
be our chiefest good, will still, be chosen ; and what we ap
prehend to be the worst of evils, will, whilst we do continue
under that conviction, be refused by us. It therefore can be
only requisite, in order to these ends, that the Good Spirit
should so illuminate our Understandings, that we attending
to and considering what lies before us, should apprehend
and be convinced of our duty ; and that the blessings of
* Second Edit. p. 211, 212, 213.

the gospel should be so propounded to us, as that we may
discern them to be our chiefest good ; and the miseries it
threateneth, so as we may be convinced that they are the
worst of evils ; that we may choose the one, and refuse the
other." Here let it be observed, how plainly and peremptorily it
is asserted, that the greatest good proposed, and the greatest
evil threatened, when equally believed and. reflected on, is
sufficient to engage the Will to choose, the good, and refuse
the evil, and is that alone which doth move the Will to choose
or to refuse ; and that it is contradictory to itself, to suppose
otherwise ; and therefore must of necessity be false ; and
then what we do really believe to be our chiefest good will
still, be chosen, and what we apprehend to be the worst of
evils, will, whilst we continue under that conviction, be re
fused by us. Nothing could have been said more to the
purpose, fully to signify, that the determinations of the
Will must evermore follow the illumination, conviction, and
notice of the Understanding, with regard to the greatest
good and evil proposed, reckoning both the degree of good
and evil understood, and the degree of Understanding, no
tice, and conviction of that proposed good and evil ; and
that it is thus necessarily, and can be otherwise in no in
stance : because it is asserted, that it implies a contradic
tion, to suppose it ever to be otherwise.
I am sensible, the Doctor's aim in these assertions is
against the Calvinists ; to show, in opposition to them, that
there is no need of any physical operation of the Spirit of
God on the Will, to change and determine that to a good
choice, but that God's operation and assistance is only
moral, suggesting ideas to the Understanding ; which he
supposes to be enough, if those ideas are attended to, in
fallibly to obtain the end. But whatever his design was,
nothing can more directly and fully prove, that every
determination of the Will, in choosing and refusing, is
necessary ; directly contrary to his own notion of the liberty
of the Will. For if the determination of the Will, ever
more, in this manner, follows the light, conviction, and
view of the Understanding, concerning the greatest good
and evil, and this be that alone which moves the Will, and
it be a contradiction to suppose otherwise ; then it is
necessarily so, the Will necessarily follows this light or view
of the Understanding, not only in some of its acts, but in
every act of choosing and refusing. So that the Will does
not determine itself in any one of its own acts ; but every
act of choice and refusal depends on, and is necessarily
connected with, some antecedent cause ; which cause is not
the Will itself, nor any act of its own,, nor any thing per
taining to that faculty, but something belonging to another
faculty, whose acts go before the Will, in all its acts, and
govern and determine them.
Here, if it should be replied, that although it be true,
that according to the Doctor, the final determination of the
Will always depends upon, and is infallibly connected with,
the Understanding's conviction, and notice of the greatest
good ; yet the Acts of the Will are not necessary ; because
that conviction of the Understanding is first dependent on
a preceding Act of the Will, in determining to take notice
of the evidence exhibited ; by which means the mind ob
tains that degree of conviction, which is sufficient and
effectual to determine the consequent and ultimate choice
of the Will ; and that the Will, with regard to that pre
ceding act, whereby it determines whether to attend or no,
is not necessary ; and that in this, the liberty of the Will
consists, that when God holds forth sufficient objective
light, the Will is at liberty whether to command the atten
tion of the mind to it or not.
Nothing can be more weak and inconsiderate than such
a reply as this. For that preceding Act of the Will, in
determining to attend and consider, still is an Act of the
Will; if the Liberty of the Will consists in it, as is sup
posed, as if it be aii Act of the Will, it is an act of choice
or refusal. And therefore, if what the Doctor asserts be
true, it is determined by some antecedent light in the Un
derstanding concerning the greatest apparent good or evil.
For he asserts, it is that light which alone doth move the
Will to choose or refuse. And therefore the Will must be
moved by that, in choosing to attend to the objective light

26

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

offered, in order to another consequent act of choice : so
that this act is no less necessary than the other. And if we
suppose another Act of the Will, still preceding both these
mentioned, to determine both, still that also must be an
Act of the Will, an act of choice ; and so must, by the
same principles, be infallibly determined by some certain
degree of light in the Understanding concerning the greatest
good. And let us suppose as many Acts of the Will, one
preceding another, as we please, yet are they every one of
them necessarily determined by a certain degree of light in
the Understanding, concerning the greatest and most
eligible good in that case ; and so, not one of them free
according to Dr. Whitby's notion of freedom. And if it
be said, the reason why men do not attend to light held
forth, is because of ill habits contracted by evil acts com
mitted before, whereby their minds are indisposed to con
sider the truth held forth to them, the difficulty is not at
all avoided : still the question returns, What determined
the Will in those preceding evil acts ? It must, by Dr.
Whitby's principles, still be the view of the Understanding
concerning the greatest good and evil. If this view of the
Understanding be that alone which doth move the Will to
choose or refuse, as the Doctor asserts, then every act of
choice or refusal, from a man's first existence, is moved
and determined by this view ; and this view of the Under
standing exciting and governing the act, must be before
the act. And therefore the Will is necessarily determined,
in every one of its acts, from a man's first existence, by a
cause beside the Will, and a cause that does not proceed
from or depend on any act of the Will at all. Which at
once utterly abolishes the Doctor's whole scheme of Liberty
of Will; and he, at one stroke, has cut the sinews of all his
arguments from the goodness, righteousness, faithfulness,
and sincerity of God, in his commands, promises, threaten
ings, calls, invitations, and expostulations ; which he makes
use of, under the heads of reprobation, election, universal
redemption, sufficient and effectual grace, and the freedom
of the Will of man ; and has made vain all his exclamations
against the doctrine of the Calvinists, as charging God with
manifest unrighteousness, unfaithfulness, hypocrisy, fal
laciousness, and cruelty.
Dr. Samuel Clark, in his Demonstration of the Being
and Attributes of God* to evade the argument to prove
the necessity of volition, from its necessary Connexion
with the last Dictate of the Understanding, supposes the
latter not to be diverse from the Act of the Will itself.
But if it be so, it will not alter the case as to the necessity
of the Act. If the Dictate of the Understanding be the
very same with the determination of the Will, as Dr.
Clark supposes, then this determination is no fruit or
effect of choice ; and if so, no liberty of choice has any
hand in it : it is necessary ; that is, choice cannot prevent
it. If the last Dictate of the Understanding be the same
with the determination of volition itself, then the existence
of that determination must be necessary as to volition ; in
as much as volition can have no opportunity to determine
whether it shall exist or no, it having existence already
before volition has opportunity to determine any thing. It
is itself the very rise and existence of volition. But a
thing after it exists, has no opportunity to determine as to
its own existence ; it is too late for that.
If liberty consists in that which Arminians suppose, viz.
in the Will determining its own acts, having free oppor
tunity and being without all necessity ; this is the same
as to say, that liberty consists in the soul having power
and opportunity to have what determinations of the Will
it pleases. And if the determinations of the Will, and the
last Dictates of the Understanding, be the same thing, then
liberty consists in the mind having power and opportu
nity to choose its own Dictates of Understanding. But
this is absurd; for it is to make the determination of
choice prior to the Dictate of Understanding, and the
ground of it ; which cannot consist with the Dictate of the
Understanding being'the determination of choice itself.
Here is no alternative, but to recur to the old absurdity
of one determination before another, and the cause of it ;
and another before, determining that ; and so on in infi
nitum. If the last Dictate of the Understanding be the
* Edit. VI. p. 93.

determination of the Will itself, and the soul be free with
regard to that Dictate, in the Arminian notion of freedom ;
then the soul, before that dictate of its Understanding
exists, voluntarily and according to its own choice deter
mines, in every case, what that Dictate of the Understand
ing shall be ; otherwise that Dictate, as to the Will, is
necessary ; and the acts determined by it must also be
necessary. So that here is a determination of the mind
prior to that Dictate of the Understanding, an act of choice
going before it, choosing and determining what that Dictate
of the Understanding shall be : and this preceding act of
choice, being a free Act of Will, must also be the same
with another last Dictate of the Understanding : And if the
mind also be free in that Dictate of Understanding, that
must be determined still by another; and so on forever.
Besides, if the Dictate of the Understanding, and deter*
mination of the Will be the same, this confounds the
Understanding and Will, and makes them the same.
Whether they be the same or no, I will not now dispute ;
but only would observe, that if it be so, and the Arminian
notion of liberty consists in a self-determining power in
the Understanding, free of all necessity ; being indepen*
dent, undetermined by any thing prior to its own acts and
determinations ; and the more the Understanding is thus
independent, and sovereign over its own determinations,
the more free : then the freedom of the soul, as a moral
agent, must consist in the independence of the Under
standing on any evidence or appearance of things, or any
thing whatsoever that stands forth to the view of the mind,
prior to the Understanding's determination. And what a
liberty is this ! consisting in an ability, freedom, and easi
ness of judging, either according to evidence, or against it ;
having a sovereign command over itself at all times, to
judge, either agreeably or disagreeably to what is plainly
exhibited to its own view. Certainly, it is no liberty that
renders persons the proper subjects of persuasive reason
ing, arguments, expostulations, and such like moral means
and inducements. The use of which with mankind is a
main argument of the Arminians, to defend their notion of
liberty without all necessity. For according to this, the
more free men are, the less they are under the government
of such means, less subject to the power of evidence and
reason, and more independent on their, influence, in theit
determinations. And whether the Understanding and Will are the same
or no, as Dr. Clark seems to suppose, yet in order to main
tain the Arminian notion of liberty without necessity, the
free Will is not determined by the Understanding, nor ne
cessarily connected with the Understanding; and the
furdier from such Connexion, the greater the freedom; And
when the liberty is full and complete, the determinations
of the Will have no Connexion at all with the Dictates of
the Understanding. And if so, in vain are all the applica
tions to the Understanding, in order to induce to any free
virtuous act; and so in vain are all instructions, counsels,
invitations, expostulations, and all arguments and persua
sives whatsoever : for these are but applications to the
Understanding, and a clear and lively exhibition of the
objects of choice to the mind's view. But if, after all, the
Will must be self-determined, and independent on the
Understanding, to what purpose are things thus repre
sented to the Understanding, in order to determine the
choice ?

SECTION X.
Volition necessarily connected with the influence of Mo
tives : with particular observations on the great incon
sistence of Mr. Chubb's assertions and reasonings about
the Freedom of the Will.
That every act of the Will has some cause, and conse
quently (by what has been already proved) has a neces
sary connexion with its cause, and so is necessary by a
necessity of connexion and consequence, is evident by this,
that every act of the Will whatsoever is excited by some
motive : which is manifest, because, if the mind, in willing

Sect. X.

ACTS CONNECTED WITH MOTIVES.

27

after the manner it does, is excited by no motive or in
ducement, then it has no end which it proposes to itself,
or pursues in so doing ; it aims at nothing, and seeks
nothing. And if it seeks nothing, then it does not go
after any thing, or exert any inclination or preference
towards any thing. Which brings the matter to a contra
diction ; because for the mind to will something, and for
it to go after something by an act of preference and incli
nation, are the same thing.
But if every act of the Will is excited by a Motive, then
that Motive is the cause of the act. If the acts of the Will
are excited by Motives, then Motives are the causes of
their being excited ; or, which is the same thing, the cause
of their existence. And if so, the existence of the acts of
the Will is properly the effect of their Motives. Motives
do nothing, as Motives or inducements, but by their in
fluence ; and so much as is done by their influence is the
effect of them. For that is the notion of an effect, some
thing that is brought to pass by the influence of something
else. And if volitions are properly the effects of their Motives,
then they are necessarily connected with their Motives.
Every effect and event being, as was proved before, ne
cessarily connected with that which is the proper ground
and reason of its existence. Thus it is manifest, that
volition is necessary, and is not from any self-determining
power in the Will : the volition, which is caused by pre
vious Motive and inducement, is not caused by the Will
exercising a sovereign power over itself, to determine, cause,
and excite volitions in itself. This is not consistent with
the Will acting in a state of indifference and equilibrium,
to determine itself to a preference ; for the way in which
Motives operate, is by massing the Will, and giving it a
certain inclination or preponderation one way.
Here it may be proper to observe, that Mr. Chubb in his
Collection of Tracts on Various Subjects, has advanced a
scheme of liberty, which is greatly divided against itself,
and thoroughly subversive of itself: and that many ways.
I. He is abundant in asserting, that the Will, in all its
acts, is influenced by Motive and excitement ; and that
this is the previous ground and reason of all its acts, and
that it is never otherwise in any instance. He says, (p.
262.) "Noaction can take place without some Motive to ex
cite it." And, (p. 263.) " Volition cannot take place without
some previous reason or motive to induce it." And, (p. 310.)
Action would not take place without some reason or Motive
to induce it ; it being absurd to suppose, that the active faculty
would be exerted without some previous reason to dispose
the mind to action." (So also p. 257.) And he speaks of
these things, as what we may be absolutely certain of, and
which are the foundation, the only foundation we have qf
certainty respecting God's moral perfections, (p. 252 —
255, 261—264.)
And yet, at the same time, by his scheme, the influence
of Motives upon us to excite to action, and to be actually
a ground of volition, is consequent on the volition or choice
of the mind. For he very greatly insists upon it, that in
all free actions, before the mind is the subject of those voli
tions, which Motives excite, it chooses to be so. It chooses,
whether it will comply with the Motive, which presents
itself in view, or not ; and when various Motives are pre
sented, it chooses which it will yield to, and which it will
reject, (p. 256.) " Every man has power to act, or to re
frain from acting, agreeably with, or contrary to, any Motive
that presents." (p. 257.) " Everyman is at liberty to act,
or refrain from acting, agreeably with, or contrary to, what
each of these Motives, considered singly, would excite him
to. — Man has power, and is as much at liberty, to reject
the Motive that does prevail, as he has power, and is at
liberty, to reject those Motives that do not." (And so p.
310, 311.) " In order to constitute a moral agent, it is ne
cessary, that he should have power to act, or to refrain from
acting, upon such moral Motives, as he pleases." And to
the like purpose in many other places. According to these
things, the Will acts first, and chooses or refuses to com
ply with the Motive that is presented, before it falls under
its prevailing influence : and it is first determined by the
mind's pleasure or choice, what Motives it will be induced
by, before it is induced by them.
' Now, how can these things hang together ? How can the

mind first act, and by its act of volition and choice deter
mine what Motives shall be the ground and reason of its
volition and choice? For this supposes, the choice is
already made, before the Motive has its effect ; and that the
volition is already exerted, before the Motive prevails, so
as actually to be the ground of the volition ; and make the
prevailing of the Motive, the consequence of the volition,
of which yet it is the ground. If the mind has already
chosen to comply with a Motive, and to yield to its ex
citement, the excitement comes in too late, and is needless
afterwards. If the mind has already chosen to yield to a
Motive which invites to a thing, that implies, and in fact
is, a choosing of the thing invited to ; and the very act of
choice is before the influence of the Motive which induces,
and is the ground of the choice ; the son is before-hand
with the father that begets him : the choice is supposed to
be the ground of that influence of the Motive, which very
influence is supposed to be the ground of the choice. And
so vice versa, the choice is supposed to be the consequence
of the influence of the Motive, which influence of the
Motive is the consequence of that very choice.
And besides, if the Will acts first towards the Motive
before it falls under its influence, and the prevailing of the
Motive upon it to induce it to act and choose, be the fruit
and consequence of its act and choice, then how is the
Motive " a previous ground and reason of the act and
choice, so that in the nature of the things, volition cannot
take place without some previous reason and Motive to
induce it;" and that this act is consequent upon, and fol
lows the Motive ? Which things Mr. Chubb often asserts,
as of certain and undoubted truth. So that the very same
Motive is both previous and consequent, both before and
after, both the ground and fruit of the very same thing !
'II. Agreeable to the forementioned inconsistent notion
of the Will first acting towards the Motive, choosing
whether it will comply with it, in order to it becoming a
ground of the Will's acting, before any act of volition can
take place, Mr. Chubb frequently calls Motives and ex
citements to the action of the Will, " the passive ground
or reason of that action." Which is a remarkable phrase ;
than which I presume there is none more unintelligible, and
void of distinct and consistent meaning, in all the writings
of Duns Scotus, or Thomas Aquinas. When he represents
the Motive volition as passive, he must mean— passive in
that affair, or passive with respect to that action, which he
speaks of; otherwise it is nothing to the design of his ar
gument : he must mean, (if that can be called a meaning,)
that the Motive to volition is first acted upon or towards by
the volition, choosing to yield to it, making it a ground of
action, or determining to fetch its influence from thence ;
and so to make it a previous ground of its own excitation
and existence. Which is the same absurdity, as if one
should say, that the soul of man, previous to its existence,
chose by what cause it would come into existence, and
acted upon its cause, to fetch influence thence, to bring it
into being ; and so its cause was a passive ground «f its
existence !
Mr. Chubb very plainly supposes Motive or excitement
to be the ground of the being of volition. He speaks of it
as the ground or reason of the exertion of an act of the
Will, (p. 391, and 392.) and expressly says, that " volition
cannot take place without some previous ground or Mo
tive to induce it," (p. 363.) And he speaks of the act as
"from the Motive, and from the influence of the
Motive," (p. 352.) " and from the influence that the Mo
tive has on the man, for the production of an action,"
(p. 317.) Certainly there is no need of multiplying words
about this ; it is easily judged, whether Motive can be the
ground of volition taking place, so that the very production
of it is from the influence of the Motive, and yet the Mo
tive, before it becomes the ground of the volition, is pas
sive, or acted upon the volition. But this I will say, that
a man, who insists so much on clearness of meaning in
others, and is so much in blaming their confusion and in
consistence, ought, if he was able, to have explained his
meaning in this phrase of " passive ground of action," so
as to show it not to be confused and inconsistent.
If any should suppose, that Mr. Chubb, when he speaks
of Motive as a " passive ground of action," does not mean
passive with regard to that volition which it is the ground

28

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

of, but some other antecedent volition, (though his purpose
and argument, and whole discourse, will by no means al
low of such a supposition,) yet it would not help the mat
ter in the least. For, (1 .) If we suppose an act, by which
the soul chooses to yield to the invitation of a Motive to
another volition ; both these supposed volitions are in effect
the very same. A volition to yield to the force of a Mo
tive inviting to choose something, comes to just the same
thing as choosing the thing which the Motive invites to,
as I observed before. So that here can be no room to help
the matter, by a distinction of two volitions. (2.) If the
Motive be passive, not with respect to the same volition
to which the Motive excites, but to one truly distinct and
prior ; yet, by Mr. Chubb, that prior volition cannot take
place without a Motive or excitement, as a previous ground
of its existence. For he insists, that " it is absurd to sup
pose any volition should take place without some previous
Motive to induce it." So that at last it comes to just the
same absurdity : for if every volition must have a previous
Motive, then the very first in the whole series must be ex
cited by a previous Motive ; and yet the Motive to that
first volition is passive ; but cannot be passive with regard
to another antecedent volition, because, by the supposition,
it is the very first : therefore if it be passive with respect to
any volition, it must be so with regard to that very volition
of which it is the ground, and that is excited by it.
III. Though Mr. Chubb asserts, as above, that every
volition has some motive, and that " in the nature of the
thing, no volition can take place without some Motive to
induce it;" yet he asserts, that volition does not always
follow the strongest Motive ; or, in other words, is not
governed by any superior strength of the Motive that is
followed, beyond Motives to the contrary, previous to the
volition itself. His own words (p. 258.) are as follow :
u Though with regard to physical causes, that which is
strongest always prevails, yet it is otherwise with regard
to moral causes. Of these, sometimes the stronger, some
times the weaker, prevails. And the ground of this dif
ference is evident, namely, that what we call moral causes,
strictly speaking, are no causes at all, but barely passive
reasons of or excitements to the action, or to the refrain
ing from acting : which excitements we have power, or are
at liberty, to comply with or reject, as I have showed
above." And so throughout the paragraph, he in a va
riety of phrases insists, that the Will is not always deter
mined by the strongest Motive, unless by strongest we
preposterously mean actually prevailing in the event;
which is not in the Motive, but in the Will ; but that the
Will is not always determined by the Motive which is
strongest, by any strength previous to the volition itself.
And he elsewhere abundantly asserts, that the Will is
determined by no superior strength or advantage, that
Motives have, from any constitution or state of things,
or any circumstances whatsoever, previous to the actual
determination of the Will. And indeed his whole dis
course on human liberty implies it, his whole scheme is
founded upon it.
But these things cannot stand together. There is a
diversity of strength in Motives to choice, previous to the
choice itself. Mr. Chubb himself supposes, that they do
previously invite, induce, excite, and dispose the mind to
action. This implies, that they have something in them
selves that is inviting, some tendency to induce and dis
pose to volition previous to volition itself. And if they
nave in themselves this nature and tendency, doubtless
they have it in certain limited degrees, which are capable
of diversity ; and some have it in greater degrees, others in
less ; and they that have most of this tendency, considered
with all their nature and circumstances, previous to volition,
are the strongest Motives, and those that have least, are
the weakest Motives.
Now if volition sometimes does not follow the Motive
which is strongest, or has most previous tendency or ad
vantage, all things considered, to induce or excite it, but
follows the weakest, or that which, as it stands previously in
the mind's view, has least tendency to induce it ; herein
the Will apparently acts wholly without Motive, without
any previous reason to dispose the mind to it, contrary to
what the same author supposes. The act, wherein the Will
must proceed without a previous motive to induce it, is the

act of preferring the weakest Motive. For how absurd is
it to say, the mind sees previous reason in the Motive, to
prefer that Motive before the other ; and at the same time
to suppose, that there is nothing in the Motive, in its
nature, state, or any circumstance of it whatsoever, as it
stands in the previous view of the mind, that gives it any
preference: but on the contrary, the other Motive that
stands in competition with it, in all these respects, has
most belonging to it that is inviting and moving, and has
most of a tendency to choice and preference. This is cer
tainly as much as to say, there is previous ground and
reason in the Motive for the act of preference, and yet no
previous reason for it. By the supposition, as to all that
is in the two rival Motives, which tends to preference,
previous to the act of preference, it is not in that which is
preferred, but wholly m the other : and yet Mr. Chubb
supposes, that the act of preference is from previous ground
and reason in the Motive which is preferred. But are
these things consistent? Can there be previous ground
in a thing for an event that takes place, and yet no pre
vious tendency in it to that event? If one thing follows
another, without any previous tendency to its following,
then I should think it very plain, that it follows it without
any manner of previous reason why it should follow.
Yea, in this case, Mr. Chubb supposes, that the event
follows an antecedent, as the ground of its existence,
which has not only no tendency to it, but a contrary ten
dency. The event is the preference, which the mind gives.
to that Motive, which is weaker, as it stands in the pre
vious view of the mind ; the immediate antecedent is the
view the mind has of the two rival Motives conjunctly;
in which previous view of the mind, all the preferableness,
or previous tendency to preference, is supposed to be on
the other side, or in the contrary Motive ; and all the un-
worthiness of preference, and so previous tendency to com
parative neglect, or undervaluing, is on that side which is
preferred : and yet in this view of the mind is supposed
to be the previous ground or reason of this act of pre
ference, exciting it, and disposing the mind to it. Which
I leave the reader to judge, whether it be absurd or not.
If it be not, then it is not absurd to say, that the previous
tendency of an antecedent to a consequent, is the ground
and reason why that consequent does not follow ; and the
want of a previous tendency to an event, yea, a tendency
to the contrary, is the true ground and reason why that
event does follow.
An act of choice or preference is a comparative act,
wherein the mind acts with reference to two or more things
that are compared, and stand-in competition in the mind's
view. If the mind, in this comparative act, prefers that
which appears inferior in the comparison, then the mind
herein acts absolutely without Motive, or inducement, or
any temptation whatsoever. Then, if a hungry man has
the offer of two sorts of food, to both which he finds an
appetite, but has a stronger appetite to one than the other;
and there be no circumstances or excitements whatsoever
in the case to induce him to take either the one or the other,
but merely his appetite : if in the choice he makes between
them, he chooses that which he has least appetite to, and
refuses that to which he has the strongest appetite, this is
a choice made absolutely without previous Motive, Ex
citement, Reason, or Temptation, as much as if he were
perfectly without all appetite to either ; because his volition
in this case is a comparative act, following a comparative
view of the food, which he chooses, in which view his
preference has absolutely no previous ground, yea, is against
all previous ground and motive. And if there be any
principle in man, from whence an act of choice may arise
after this manner, from the same principle volition may
arise wholly without Motive on either side. If the mind
in its volition can go beyond Motive, then it can go with
out Motive : for when it is beyond the Motive, it is out of
the reach of the Motive, out of the limits of its influence,
and so without Motive. If so, this demonstrates the in
dependence of volition on Motive ; and no reason can be
given for what Mr. Chubb so often asserts, even that " in
the nature of things volition cannot take place without a
Motive to induce it."
If the Most High should endow a balance with agency
or activity of nature, in such a manner, that when unequal

Sect. X.

ACTS CONNECTED WITH MOTIVES

29

weights are put into the scales, its agency could enable it
to cause that scale to descend, which has the least weight,
and so to raise the greater weight ; this would clearly
demonstrate, that the motion of the balance does not de
pend on weights in the scales ; at least, as much as if the
balance should move itself, when there is no weight in
either scale. And the activity of the balance which is
sufficient to move itself against the greater weight, must
certainly be more than sufficient to move it when there is
no weight at all.
Mr. Chubb supposes, that the Will cannot stir at all
without some Motive ; and also supposes, that if there be
a Motive to one thing, and none to the contrary, volition
will infallibly follow that Motive. This is virtually to
suppose an entire dependence of the Will on Motives ; if
it were not wholly dependent on them, it could surely hel p
itself a little without them ; or help itself a little against
a Motive, without help from the strength and weight of a
contrary Motive. And yet his supposing that the Will,
when it has before it various opposite Motives, can use
them as it pleases, and choose its own influence from them,
and neglect the strongest, and follow the weakest, supposes
it to be wholly independent on Motives.
It further appears, on Mr. Chubb's hypothesis, that vo
lition must be without any previous ground in any Mo
tive, thus : if it be, as he supposes, that the Will is not
determined by any previous superior strength of the Mo
tive, but determines and chooses its own Motive, then,
when the rival Motives are exactly equal, in all respects,
it may follow either ; and may, in such a case, sometimes
follow one, sometimes the other. And if so, this diversity
which appears between the acts of the Will, is plainly with
out previous ground in either of the Motives ; for all that
is previously in the Motives, is supposed precisely and
perfectly the same, without any diversity whatsoever. Now
perfect identity, as to all that is previous in the antecedent,
cannot be the ground and reason of diversity in the con
sequent. Perfect identity in the ground, cannot be a rea
son why it is not followed with the same consequence.
And therefore the source of this diversity of consequence
must be sought for elsewhere.
And lastly, it may be observed, that however much Mr.
Chubb insists, that no volition can take place without
some Motive to induce it, which previously disposes the
mind to it; yet, as he also insists that the mind, without
reference to any superior strength of Motives, picks and
chooses for its Motive to follow ; he himself herein plainly
supposes, that, with regard to the mind's preference of one
Motive before another — it is not the Motive that disposes
the Will, but — the Will disposes itself to follow the Motive.
IV. Mr. Chubb supposes necessity to be utterly incon
sistent with agency ; and that to suppose a being to be an
agent in that which is necessary, is a plain contradiction,
£311. and throughout his discourses on the subject of
iberty, he supposes, that necessity cannot consist with
agency or freedom ; and that to suppose otherwise, is to
make Liberty and Necessity, Action and Passion, the
same thing. And so he seems to suppose, that there is no
action, strictly speaking, but volition ; and that as to the
effects of volition in body or mind, in themselves consider
ed, being necessary, they are said to be free, only as they
are the effects of an act that is not necessary.
And yet, according to him, volition itself is the effect of
volition ; yea, every act of free volition ; and therefore
every act of free volition must, by what has now been ob
served from him, be necessary. That every act of free
volition is itself the effect of volition, is abundantly sup
posed by him. In p. 341. he says, " If a man is such a
creature as I have proved him to be, that is, if he has in
him a power of Liberty of doing either good or evil, and
either of these is the subject of his own free choice, so that
he might, if he had pleased, have chosen and done the
contrary." — Here he supposes all that is good or evil in
man is the effect of his choice ; and so that his good or evil
choice itself is the effect of his pleasure or choice, in these
words, " he might if he had pleased, have chosen the
contrary." So in p 356. " Though it be highly reason
able, that a man should always choose the greater good, —
yet he may, if he please, choose otherwise." Which is
the same thing as if he had said, he may if he chooses choose

other-wise. And then he goes on, — " that is, he may, if he
pleases, choose what is good for himself," &c. And again in
the same page, " The Will is not confined by the under
standing, to any particular sort of good, whether greater or
less ; but it is at liberty to choose what kind of good it
pleases." — If there be anv meaning in the last words, it
must be this, that the Will is at liberty to choose what kind
of good it chooses to choose ; supposing the act of choice
itself determined by an antecedent choice. The Liberty Mr.
Chubb speaks of, is not only a man's power to move his
body, agreeable to an antecedent act of choice, but to use
or exert the faculties of his soul. Thus, (p. 379.) speaking
of the faculties of the mind, he says, " Man has power,
and is at liberty to neglect these faculties, to use them
aright, or to abuse them, as he pleases." And that he sup
poses an act of choice or exercise of pleasure, properly
distinct from, and antecedent to, those acts thus chosen,
directing, commanding, and producing the chosenacts, and
even the acts of choice themselves, is very plain in p. 283.
" He can command his actions; and herein consists his
Liberty ; he can give or deny himself that pleasure, as he
pleases. And p. 377. If the actions of men — are not the
produce of a free choice, or election, but spring from a
necessity of nature,— he cannot in reason be the object of
reward or punishment on their account. Whereas, if ac
tion in man, whether good or evil, is the produce of will or
free choice ; so that a man in either case, had it in his
power, and was at liberty to have chosen the contrary, he
is the proper object of reward or punishment, according as
he chooses to behave himself." Here, in these last words,
he speaks of Liberty o/choosing, according as he chooses.
So that the behaviour which he speaks of as subject to his
choice, is his choosing itself, as well as his external conduct
consequent upon it. And therefore it is evident, he means
not only external actions, but the acts of choice themselves,
when he speaks of all free actions, as the produce of free
choice. And this is abundantly evident in what he says
elsewhere, (p. 372, 373.)
Now these things imply a twofold great inconsistence.
1. To suppose, as Mr. Chubb plainly does, that every
free act of choice is commanded by, and is the produce of,
free choice, is to suppose the first free act of choice be
longing to the case, yea, the first free act of choice that
ever man exerted, to be the produce of an antecedent act of
choice. But I hope I need not labour at all to convince
my readers, that it is an absurdity to say, the very first act
is the produce of another act that went before it.
2. If it were both possible and real, as Mr. Chubb in
sists, that every free act of choice were the produce or the
effect of a free act of choice ; yet even then, according to
his principles, no one act of choice would be free, but
every one necessary ; because, every act of choice being the
effect of a foregoing act, every act would be necessarily
connected with that foregoing cause. Eor Mr. Chubb
himself says, (p. 389.) " When the self-moving power is
exerted, it becomes the necessary cause of its effects." — So-
that his notion of a free act, that is rewardable or punish
able, is a heap of contradictions. It is a free act, and yet,
by his own notion of freedom, is necessary ; and therefore
by him it is a contradiction, to suppose it to be free. Ac
cording to him, every free act is the produce of a free act ;
so that there must be an infinite number of free acts in
succession, without any beginning, in an agent that has a
beginning. And therefore here is an infinite number of
free acts, every one of them free ; and yet not any one of
them free, but every act in the whole infinite chain a
necesary effect. All the acts are rewardable or punish
able, and yet the agent cannot, in reason, be the object of
reward or punishment, on account of any one of these
actions. He is active in them all, and passive in none ;
yet active in none, but passive in all, &c.
V. Mr. Chubb most strenuously denies, that Motives-
are causes of the acts of the Will; or that the moving
principle in man is moved, or earned to be exerted by Motives.
His words, (p. 388 and 389.) are, " If the moving prin
ciple in man is moved, or caused to be exerted, by
something external to man, which all Motives are, then it
would not be a self-moving principle, seeing it would be
moved by a principle external to itself. And to say, that
a self-moving principle is moved, or caused to be exert-

30

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

ed, by a cause external to itself, is absurd and a contradic
tion," &c  And in the next page, it is particularly and
largely insisted, that Motives are causes in no case, that
" they are merely passive in the production of action, and
have no causality in the production of it, — no causality, to
be the cause of the exertion of the Will.
Now I desire it may be considered, how this can possi
bly consist with what he says in other places. Let it be
noted here,
1. Mr. Chubb abundantly speaks of Motives as excite
ments of the acts of the Will ; and says, that Motives do
excite volition, and induce it, and that they are necessary
to this end ; that in the reason and nature of things, volition
cannot take place without Motives to excite it. But now,
if Motives excite the Will, they move it ; and yet he says,
it is absurd to say, the Will is moved by Motives. Arid
again, if language is of any significancy at all, if Motives ex
cite volition, then they are thecause of its being excited ; and
to cause volition to be excited, is to cause it to be put forth
or exerted. Yea, Mr. Chubb says himself, (p. 317.)
Motive is necessary to the exertion of the active faculty.
To excite, is positively to do something ; and certainly that
which does something, is the cause of the thing done by it.
To create, is to cause to be created ; to make, is to cause
to be made ; to kill, is to cause to be killed ; to quicken,
is to cause to be quickened ; and to excite, is to cause to be
excited. To excite, is to be a cause, in the most proper sense,
not merely a negative occasion, but a ground of existence
by positive influence. The notion of exciting, is exerting
influence to cause the effect to arise or come forth into
existence. 2. Mr. Chubb himself (p. 317.) speaks of Motives as
the ground and reason of action by influence, and by
prevailing influence. Now, what can be meant by a
cause, but something that is the ground and reason of a
thing by its influence, an influence that is prevalent and
effectual ?
3. This author not only speaks of Motives as the
ground and reason of action, by prevailing influence ; but
expressly of their influence as prevailing for the produc
tion of an action, (p. 317.) which makes the inconsistency
still more palpable and notorious. The production of an
effect is certainly the causing of an effect ; and productive
influence is causal influence, if any thing is ; and that
which has this influence prevalently, so as thereby to be
come the ground of another thing, is a cause of that thing,
if there be any such thing as a cause. This influence, Mr.
Chubb says, Motives have to produce an action ; and yet,
he says, it is absurd and a contradiction, to say they are
causes. 4. In the same page, he once and again speaks of Mo
tives as disposing the Agent to action, by their influence.
His words are these : " As Motive, which takes place in
the understanding, and is the product of intelligence, is
necessary to action, that is, to the exertion of the ac
tive faculty, because that faculty would not be exerted
without some previous reason to dispose the mind to
action ; so from hence it plainly appears, that when a man
is said to be disposed to one action rather than another, this
properly signifies the prevailing influence that one
Motive has upon a man for the production of an action,
or for the being at rest, before all other Motives, for the
production of the contrary. For as motive is the ground
and reason of any action, so the Motive that prevails, dis
poses the agent to the performance of that action."
Now, if Motives dispose the mind to action, then they
cause the mind to be disposed ; and to cause the mind to
be disposed is to cause it to be willing ; and to cause it to
be willing is to cause it to will ; and that is the same thing
as to be the cause of an act of the Will. And yet this
same Mr. Chubb holds it to be absurd, to suppose Motive
to be a cause of the act of the Will.
And if we compare these things together, we have here
again a whole heap of inconsistences. Motives are the
previous ground and reason of the acts of the Will ; yea,
the necessary ground and reason of their exertion, without
which they will not be exerted, and cannot, in the nature of
things, take place ; and they do excite these acts of the Will,
and do this by a prevailing influence ; yea, an influence
which prevails for the production of the act of the Will, and

for the disposing of the mind to it ; and yet it is absurd, to
suppose Motive to be a cause of an act of the Will, or that
a principle of Will is moved or caused to be exerted by it, or
that it has any causality in the production of it, or any
causality to be the cause of the exertion of the Will.
A due consideration of these things which Mr. Chubb
has advanced, the strange incon.sistences which his notion
of Liberty— consisting in the Will's power of self-determi
nation void of all necessity, united with that dictate'; of
common sense, that there can be no volition without a
Motive— drove him into, may be sufficient to convince us,
that it is utterly impossible ever to make that notion of
Liberty consistent with the influence of Motives in voli
tion. And as it is in a manner self-evident, that there can
be no act of Will, or preference of the mind, without some
Motive or inducement, something in the mind's view which
it aims at, and goes after ; so it is most manifest, that
there is no such Liberty in the universe as Arminians insist
on ; nor any such thing possible, or conceivable.

SECT. XI.
The evidence of God's certain Foreknowledge of the Vo
litions of moral Agents.
That the acts of the Wills of moral Agents are not con
tingent events, in such a sense, as to be without all neces
sity, appears by God'scertain Foreknowledge of such events.
In handling this argument, I would in the first place
prove, that God has a certain Foreknowledge of the volun
tary acts of moral Agents ; and secondly, show the conse
quence, or how it follows from hence, that the Volitions of
moral Agents are not contingent, so as to be without ne
cessity of connexion and consequence.
First, I am to prove, that God has an absolute and
certain Foreknowledge of the free actions of moral Agents.
One would think it wholly needless .to enter on such an
argument with any that profess themselves Christians : but
so it is ; God's certain Foreknowledge of the free acts of
moral Agents, is denied by some that pretend to believe
the Scriptures to be the W ord of God ; and especially of
late. I therefore shall consider the evidence of such a
prescience in the Most High, as fully as the designed
limits of this essay will admit ; supposing myself herein
to have to do with such as own the truth of the Bible.
Arg. I. My first argument shall be taken from God's
prediction of such events. Here I would, in the first place,
lay down these two things as axioms.
1. If God does not foreknow, He cannot foretell such
events ; that is, He cannot peremptorily and certainly fore
tell them. If God has no more than an uncertain guess con
cerning events of this kind, then he can declare no more
than an uncertain guess. Positively to foretell, is to profess
to foreknow, or declare positive Foreknowledge.
2. If God does not certainly foreknow the future Voli
tions of moral Agents, then neither can he certainly fore
know those events which are dependent on these Volitions.
The existence of the one depending on the existence of the
other, the knowledge of the existence of the one depends on
the knowledge of the existence of the other ; and the one
cannot be more certain than the other.
Therefore, how many, how great, and how extensive
soever the consequences of the Volitions of moral Agents
may be; though they should extend to an alteration of the
state of things through the universe, and should he con
tinued in a series of successive events to all eternity, and
should in the progress of things branch forth into an infi
nite number of series, each of them going on in an endless
chain of events ; God must be as ignorant of all these con
sequences, as he is of the Volition whence they first take
their rise : and the whole state of things depending on
them, how important, extensive, and vast soever, must be
hid from him.
These positions being such as, I suppose, none will deny,
I now proceed to observe the following things.
1. Men's moral conduct and qualities, their virtues and
vices, their wickedness and good practice, things reward-
able and punishable, have often been foretold by God. —
Pharaoh's moral conduct, in refusing to obey God's com-

Sect. XI.

GOD FOREKNOWS OUR VOLITIONS.

31

niand, in letting his people go, was foretold. God says to
Moses, Exod. iii. 19. " I am sure that the king of Egypt
will not let you go." Here God professes not only to
guess at, but to know Pharaoh's future disobedience. In
chap. vii. 4. God says, " but Pharaoh shall not hearken
unto you ; that I may lay mine hand upon Egypt," &c.
And chap. ix. 30. Moses says to Pharaoh, " as for thee,
and thy servants, I know that ye will not fear the Lord."
See also chap. xi. 9. — The moral conduct of Josiah, by
name, in his zealously exerting himself to oppose idolatry,
in particular acts, was foretold above three hundred years
before he was born, and the prophecy sealed by a miracle,
and renewed and confirmed by the words of a second
prophet, as what surely would not fail, (1 Kings xiii. 1 — 6,
32.) This prophecy was also in effect a prediction of the
moral conduct of the people, in upholding their schismati-
cal and idolatrous worship until that time, and the idolatry
of those priests of the high places, which it is foretold
Josiah should offer upon that altar of Bethel. Mfcaiah
foretold the foolish and sinful conduct of Ahab, in refusing
to hearken to the word of the Lord by him, and choosing
rather to hearken to the false prophets, in going to Hamoth-
Gilead to his ruin, (1 Kings xxi. 20 — 22.) The moral
conduct of Hazael was foretold, in that cruelty he should
be guilty of; on which Hazael says, " What, is thy servant
a dog, that he should do this thing !" The prophet speaks
of the event as what he knew, and not what he conjec
tured, 2 Kings viii. 12. " I know the evil that thou wilt do
unto the children of Israel : Thou wilt dash their children,
and rip up their women with child." The moral conduct
of Cyrus is foretold, long before he had a being, in his
mercy to God's people, and regard to the true God, in
turning the captivity of the Jews, and promoting the build
ing of the temple, (Isa. xliv. 28. and lxv. 13. compare
2 Chron. xxxvi. 22, 23. and Ezra i. 1 — 4.) How many
instances of the moral conduct of the kings of the North
and South, particular instances of the wicked behaviour of
the kings of Syria and Egypt, are foretold in the 11th
chapter of Daniel! Their corruption, violence, robberv,
treachery, and lies. And particularly, how much is foretold
of the horrid wickedness of Antiochus Epiphanes, called
there " a vile person," instead of Epiphanes, or illustrious!
In that chapter, and also in chap. viii. ver. 9, 14, 23, to the
end, are foretold his flattery, deceit, and lies, his having
" his heart set to do mischief," and set " against the holy
covenant," his " destroying and treading under foot the
holy people," in a marvellous manner, his " having indig
nation against the holy covenant, setting his heart against
it, and conspiring against it," his " polluting the sanctuary
of strength, treading it under foot, taking away the daily
sacrifice, and placing the abomination that maketh deso
late ;" his great pride, " magnifying himself against God,
and uttering marvellous blasphemies against Him," until
God in indignation should destroy him. Withal, the moral
conduct of the Jews, on occasion of his persecution, is
predicted. It is foretold, that " he should corrupt many by
flatteries" (chap. xi. 32—34.) But that others should
"behave with a glorious constancy and fortitude, in oppo
sition to him, (ver. 32.) And that some good men should
fall and repent, (ver. 35.) Christ foretold Peter's sin, in
denying his Lord, with its circumstances, in a peremptory
manner. And so, that great sin of Judas, in betraying his
master, and its dreadful and eternal punishment in hell,
was foretold in the like positive manner, Matt. xxvi.
21 — 25. and parallel places in the other Evangelists.
2. Many events have been foretold by God, which are
dependent on the moral conduct of particular persons,
and were accomplished, either by their virtuous or vicious
actions. Thus, the children of Israel's going down into
Egypt to dwell there, was foretold to Abraham, (Gen. xv.)
which was brought about by the wickedness of Joseph's
brethren in selling him, and the wickedness of Joseph's
mistress, and his own signal virtue in resisting her tempta
tion. The accomplishment of the thing prefigured in
Joseph's dream, depended on the same moral conduct.
Jotham's parable and prophecy, (Judges ix. 15 — 20.) was
accomplished by the wicked conduct of Abimehxh, and
the men of Shechem. The prophecies against the house of
Eli, (1 Sam. chap. ii. and iii.) were accomplished by the
wickedness, of Doeg the Edomite,,m accusing the priests ;

and the great impiety, and extreme cruelty of Saul in
destroying the priests at Nob. (1 Sam. xxi'i.) Nathan's
prophecy against David, (2 Sam. xii. 11,12.) was fulfilled
by the horrible wickedness of Absalom, in rebelling against
his father, seeking his life, and lying with his concubines in
the sight of the sun. The prophecy against Solomon,
(1 Kings xi. 11 — 13.) was fulfilled by Jeroboam's rebellion
and usurpation, which are spoken of as his wickedness,
(2 Chron. xiii. 5, 6. compare ver. 18.) The prophecy
against Jeroboam's family, (1 Kings xiv.) was fulfilled by
the conspiracy, treason, and cruel murders of Baasha,
(2 Kings xv. 27, &c.) The predictions of the prophet
Jehu against the house of Baasha, (1 Kings xvi. at the
beginning,) were fulfilled by the treason and parricide of
Zimri, (1 Kings xvi. 9— 13,' 20.)
3. How often has God foretold the future moral con
duct of nations and people, of numbers, bodies, and suc
cessions of men ; with God's judicial proceedings, and
many other events consequent and dependent on their vir
tues and vices ; which could not be foreknown, if the
Volitions of men, wherein they acted as moral Agents,
had not been foreseen ! The future cruelty of the Egyp
tians in oppressing Israel, and God's judging and punish
ing them for it, was foretold long before it came to pass,
(Gen. xv. 13, 14.) The continuance of the iniquity of
the Amorites, and the increase of it until it should be full,
and they ripe for destruction, was foretold above four hun
dred years before, (Gen. xv. 16. Acts vii. 6, 7.) The
prophecies of the destruction of Jerusalem, and the land of
Juduh, were absolute; (2 Kings xx. 17 — 19. chap. xxii.
15, to the end.) It was foretold in Hezekiah's time, and
was abundantly insisted on in the book of the prophet
Isaiah, who wrote nothing after Hezekiah's days. It was
foretold in Josiah's time, in the beginning of a great re
formation, (2 Kings xxii.) And it is manifest by innu
merable things in the predictions of the prophets, relating
to this event, its time, its circumstances, its continuance,
and end ; the return from the captivity, the restoration of
the temple, city, and land, &c. I say, these show plainly,
that the prophecies of this great event were absolute. And-
yet this event was connected with, and dependent on, two
things in men's moral conduct: first, the injurious rapine
and violence of the king of Babylon and his people, as the
efficient cause ; which God often speaks of as what he
highly resented, and would severely punish ; and second
ly, the final obstinacy of the Jews. That great event is
often spoken of as suspended on this, (Jer. iv. 1. and v. 1.
vii. 1 — 7. xi. 1 — 6. xvii. 24, to the end, xxv. 1 — 7. xxvi.
1 — 8, 13. and xxxviii. 17, 18.) Therefore this destruction
and captivity could not be foreknown, unless such a moral
conduct of the Chaldeans and Jews had been foreknown.
And then it was foretold, that the people should be finally
obstinate, to the utter desolation of the city and land,
(Isa. vi. 9—11. Jer. i. 18, 19. vii. 27—29. 'Ezek. iii. 7.'
and xxiv. 13, 14.)
The final obstinacy of those Jews who were left in the
land of Israel, in their idolatry and rejection of the true
God, was foretold by him, and the prediction confirmed
with an oath, (Jer. xliv. 26, 27.) And God tells the peo
ple, (Isa. xlviii. 3, 4 — 8.) that he had predicted those
things which should be consequent on their treachery and
obstinacy, because he knew they would be obstinate ; and
that he had declared these things beforehand, for their con
viction of his being the only true God, &c.
The destruction of Babylon, with many of the circum
stances of it, was foretold, as the judgment of God for the
exceeding pride and haughtiness of the heads of that
monarchy, Nebuchadnezzar and his successors, and their
wickedly destroying other nations, and particularly for
their exalting themselves against the true God and his
people, before any of these monarchs had a being; (Isa.
chap. xiii. xiv. xlvii. compare Habak. ii. 5, to the end,
and Jer. chap. 1. and li.) That Babylon's destruction was
to be " a recompence, according to the works of their own
hands," appears by Jer. xxv. 14. — The immorality of which
the people of Babylon, and particularly her princes and
great men, were guilty, that very night that the city was
destroyed, their revelling and drunkenness at Belshazzar's
idolatrous feast, was foretold, (Jer. li. 39, 57.)
The return of the Jews from the Babylonish captivity is

32

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

often very particularly foretold, with many circumstances,
and the promises of it are very peremptory : (Jer. xxxi.
35—40. and xxxii. 6—15, 41—44. and xxxiii. 24—26.)
And the very time of their return was prefixed ; (Jer. xxv.
11, 12. and xxix. 10, 11. 2 Chron. xxxvi. 21. Ezek. iv. 6.
and Dan. ix. 2.) And yet the prophecies represent their
return as consequent on their repentance. And their re
pentance itself is very expressly and particularly foretold,
(Jer. xxix. 12, 13, 14. xxxi. 8, 9, 18—31. xxxiii. 8. 1. 4,
5. Ezek. vi. 8, 9, 10. vii. 16. xiv. 22, 23. and xx. 43, 44.)
It was foretold under the Old Testament, that the Mes
siah should suffer greatly through the malice and cruelty
of men ; as is largely and fully set forth, Psal. xxii. ap
plied to Christ in the New Testament, (Matt, xxvii. 35,
43. Luke xxiii. 34. John xix. 24. Heb. ii. 12.) And like
wise in Psal. lxix. which, it is also evident by the New
Testament, is spoken of Christ; (John xv. 25. vii. 5, &c.
and ii. 17. Rom. xv. 3. Matt, xxvii. 34, 48. Mark xv. 23.
John xix. 29.) The same thing is also foretold, Isa. liii.
and 1. 6. and Mic. v. 1. This cruelty of men was their
sin, and what they acted as moral Agents. It was fore
told, that there should be an union of heathen and Jewish
rulers against Christ, (Psal. ii. 1, 2. compared with Acts
iv. 25 — 28.) It was foretold, that the Jews should generally
reject and despise the Messiah, (Isa. xlix. 5, 6, 7. and liii.
1—3. Psal. xxii. 6, 7. and lxix. 4, 8, 19, 20.) And it was
foretold, that the body of that nation should be rejected in
the Messiah's davs, from being God's people, for their ob
stinacy in sin ; (Isa. xlix. 4 — 7. and viii. 14, 15, 16. com
pared with Rom. x. 19. and La. lxv. at the beginning,
compared with Rom. x. 20, 21.) It was foretold, that
Christ should be rejected by the chief priests and rulers
among the Jews, (Psal. cxviii. 22. compared with Matt. xxi.
42. Acts iv. 11. 1 Pet. ii. 4, 7.)
Christ himself foretold his being delivered into the
hands of the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and his being
cruelly treated by them, and condemned to death ; and
that he by them should be delivered to the Gentiles : and
that he should be mocked and scourged, and crucified,
(Matt. xvi. 21. and xx. 17 — 19. Luke ix. 22. John viii.
28.) and that the people should be concerned in and con
senting to his death, (Luke xx. 13—18.) especially the in
habitants of Jer-usalem ; (Luke xiii. 33 — 35.) He foretold,
that the disciples should all be offended because of him,
that night in which he was betrayed, and should forsake
him ; (Matt. xxvi. 31. John xvi. 32.) He foretold, that
he should be rejected of that generation, even the body of
the people, and that they should continue obstinate to their
ruin; (Matt. xii. 45. xxi. 33 — 42. and xxii. 1 — 7. Luke
xiii. 16,21, 24. xvii. 25. xix. 14,27, 41—44. xx. 13—18.
and xxiii. 34—39.)
As it was foretold in both the Old Testament and the
New that the Jews should reject the Messiah, so it was
foretold that the Gentiles should receive him, and so be
admitted to the privileges of God's people ; in places too
many to be now particularly mentioned. It was foretold
in the Old Testament, that the Jews should envy the
Gentiles on this account ; (Deut. xxxii. 21. compared
with Rom. x. 19.) Christ himself often foretold, that the
Gentiles would embrace the true religion, and become his
followers and people ; (Matt. viii. 10, 11, 12. xxi. 41—43.
and xxii. 8—10. Luke xiii. 28. xiv. 16—24. and xx. 16.
John x. 16.) He also foretold the Jews' envy of the Gen
tiles on this occasion ; (Matt. xx. 12 — 16. Luke xv. 26,
to the end.) He foretold, that they should continue in
this opposition and envy, and should manifest it in the
cruel persecutions of his followers, to their utter destruc
tion ; (Ma... xxi. 33—42. xxii. 6. and xxiii. 34—39. Luke
xi. 49 — 51.) The obstinacy of the Jews is also foretold,
(Acts xxii. 18.) Christ often foretold the great persecu
tions his followers should meet with, both from Jews and
Gentiles; (Matt. x. 16—18, 21, 22, 34—36. and xxiv. 9.
Mark xiii. 9. Luke x. 3. xii. 11, 49—53. and xxi. 12, 16,
17. John xv. 18—21. and xvi. 1—4, 20—22, 23.) He
foretold the martyrdom of particular persons ; (Matt. xx.
23. John xiii. 36. and xxi. 18, 19, 22.) He foretold the
great success of the gospel in the city of Samaria, as near
approaching ; which afterwards was fulfilled by the preach
ing of Philip, (John iv. 35 — 38.) He foretold the rising of
many deceivers after his departure, (Matt. xxiv. 4, 5, 11.)

and the apostasy of many of his professed followers -y
(Matt. xxiv. 10, 12.)
The persecutions, which the apostle Paul was to meet
with in the world, were foretold; (Acts ix. 16. xx. 23, and
xxi. 11.) The apostle says, to the christian Ephesians,
Acts xx. 29, 30.) " I know, that after my departure shall
grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock ;
also of your ownselves shall men arise, speaking perverse
things, to draw away disciples after them." The apostle
says, he knew this : but he did not know it, if God did
not know the future actions of moral Agents.
4. Unless God foreknows the future acts of moral
Agents, all the prophecies we have in Scripture concerning
the great Antichristian apostasy ; the rise, reign, wicked
qualities, and deeds of " the man of sin," and his instru
ments and adherents ; the extent and long continuance of
his dominion, his influence on the minds of princes and
others, to corrupt them, and draw them away to idolatry,. .
and other foul vices ; his great and cruel persecutions; the
behaviour of the saints under these great temptations, &c.
&c. I say, unless the Volitions of moral Agents are foreseen,
all these prophecies are uttered without knowing the things
foretold. The predictions relating to this great apostasy are all of
a moral nature, relating to men's virtues and vices, and
their exercises, fruits, and consequences, and events de
pending on them ; and are very particular ; and most of
them often repeated, with many precise characteristics, de
scriptions, and limitations of qualities, conduct, influence,
effects, extent, duration, periods, circumstances, final issue,
Sec. which it would be tedious to mention particularly.
And to suppose, that all these are predicted by God,
without any certain knowledge of the future moral behavi
our of free Agents, would be to the utmost degree ab
surd. 5. Unless God foreknows the future acts of men's Wills,
and their behaviour as moral Agents, all those great things
which are foretold both in the Old Testament and the New,
concerning the erection, establishment, and universal extent
of the kingdom of the Messiah, were predicted and pro
mised while God was in ignorance whether any of these
things would come to pass or no, and did but guess at
them. For that kingdom is not of this world, it does not
consist in things external, but is within men, and consists
in the dominion of virtue in their hearts, in righteousness,
and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost ; and in these things
made manifest in practice, to the praise and glory of God.
The Messiah came " to save men from their sins, and deliver
them from their spiritual enemies ; that they might serve
him in righteousness and holiness before him : he gave
himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity,
and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good
works." And therefore nis success consists in gaining
men's hearts to virtue, in their being made God's willing-
people in the day of his power. His conquest of his ene
mies consists in his victory over men's corruptions and
vices. And such a victory, and such a dominion is often
expressly foretold : that his kingdom shall fill the earth ;
that all people, nations, and languages should serve and
obey him ; and so that all nations should go up to the*
mountain of the house of the Lord, that he might teach
them his ways, and that they might walk in his paths ; and
that all men should be drawn to Christ, and the earth be
full of the knowledge of the Lord (true virtue and religion)
as the waters cover the seas ; that God's laws should he
put into men's inward parts, and written in their hearts ;
and that God's people should be all righteous, &c. &c.
A very great part of the Old-Testament prophecies is
taken up in such predictions as these. — And here I would
observe, that the prophecies of the universal prevalence of
the kingdom of the Messiah, and true religion of Jesus
Christ, are delivered in the most peremptory manner, and
confirmed by the oath of God, Isa. xiv. 22, to the end,
" Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of. the
earth ; for I am God, and there is none else. I have sworn
by my Self, the word is gone out of my mouth in righte
ousness, and shall not return, that unto Me every knee shall
bow, and every tongue shall swear. Surely, shall one
say, in the Lord have I righteousness and strength : even
to Him shall men come," &c. But, here, this peremptory

Sect. XI.

GOD FOREKNOWS OUR VOLITIONS.

33

declaration and great oath of the Most High, are delivered
with such mighty solemnity, respecting things which God
did not know, if he did not certainly foresee the Volitions
of moral Agents.
And all the predictions of Christ and his apostles, to the
like purpose, must be without knowledge : as those of our
Saviour comparing the kingdom of God to a grain of mus
tard-seed, growing exceeding great, from a small begin
ning ; and to leaven, hid in three measures of meal, until
the whole was leavened, &c. — And the prophecies in the
epistles concerning the restoration of the Jewish nation to
the true church of God, and bringing in the fulness of the
Gentiles ; and the prophecies in all the Revelation con
cerning the glorious change in the moral state of the world
of mankind, attending the destruction of Antichrist, " the
kingdoms of the world becoming the kingdoms of our
Lord and of his Christ;" and its being granted to the
church to be " arrayed in that fine linen, white and clean,
which is the righteousness of saints," &c.
Carol. 1. Hence lhat great promise and oath of God to
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, so much celebrated in Scrip
ture, both in the Old Testament and the New, namely,
" That in their seed all the nations and families of the earth
should be blessed," must be made on uncertainties, if
God does not certainly foreknow the Volitions of moral
Agents. For the fulfilment of this promise consists in
that success of Christ in the work of redemption, and that
setting up of his spiritual kingdom over the nations of the
world, which has been spoken of. Men are " blessed in
Christ" no otherwise than as they are brought to acknow
ledge him, trust in him, love and serve him, as is re
presented and predicted in Psal. lxxii. 11. " All kings
shall fall down before him ; all nations shall serve him."
With ver. 17. " Men shall be blessed in him; all na
tions shall call him blessed." This oath to Jacob and
Abraham is fulfilled in subduing men's iniquities ; as is
implied in that of the prophet Micab, chap. vii. 19, 20.
Corot. 2. Hence also it appears, that the first gospel-
promise that ever was made to mankind, that great predic
tion of the salvation of the Messiah, and his victory over
Satan, made to our first parents, (Gen. iii. 15.) if there be
no certain Prescience of the Volitions of moral Agents,
must have no better foundation than conjecture. For
Christ's victory over Satan consists in men's being saved
from sin, and in the victory of virtue and holiness over
that vice and wickedness which Satan by his temptations
has introduced, and wherein his kingdom consists.
6. If it be so, that God has not a Prescience of the future
actions of moral Agents, it will follow, that the prophecies
of Scripture in general are without Foreknowledge. For
Scripture prophecies, almost all of them, if not universally,
are either predictions of the actings and behaviour of
moral Agents, or of events depending on them, or some
way connected with them ; judicial dispensations, judg
ments on men for their wickedness, or rewards of virtue
and righteousness, remarkable manifestations of favour to
the righteous, or manifestations of sovereign mercy to
sinners, forgiving their iniquities, and magnifying the riches
of divine grace ; or dispensations of Providence, in some
respect or other, relating to the conduct of the subjects of
God's moral government, wisely adapted thereto ; either
providing for what should be in a future state of things,
through the Volitions and voluntary actions of moral
Agents, or consequent upon them, and regulated and
ordered according to them. So that all events that are
foretold, are either moral events, or others which are con
nected with and accommodated to them.
That the predictions of Scripture in general must be
without knowledge, if God does not foresee the Volitions
of men, will further appear, if it be considered, that almost
all events belonging to the future state of the world of
mankind, the changes and revolutions which come to pass
in empires, kingdoms, and .nations, and all societies, de
pend, in ways innumerable, on the acts of men's Wills ;
yea, on an innumerable multitude of millions of Volitions.
Such is the state and course of things in the world of
mankind, that one. single event, which appears in itself
exceeding inconsiderable, may, in the progress and series
of things, occasion a succession of the greatest and most
important and extensive events ; causing the state of man-
VOL. I. D

kind to be vastly different from what it would otherwise
have been, for all succeeding generations.
For instance, the coming into existence of those particu
lar men, who have been the great conquerors of the world,
which, under God, have had the main hand in all the
consequent state of the world, in all after-ages ; such as
Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, Alexander, Pompev, Julius Cae
sar, &c. undoubtedly depended on many millions of acts
of the Will, in their parents. And perhaps most of these
Volitions depended on millions of Volitions in their con
temporaries of the same generation ; and most of these on
millions of millions of Volitions in preceding generations. —
As we go back, still the number of Volitions, which were
some way the occasion of the event, multiply as the
branches of a river, until they come at last, as it were, to
an infinite number. This will not seem strange to any one
who well considers the matter ; if we recollect what phi
losophers tell us of the innumerable multitudes of those
things which are the principiu, or stamina vita, concerned in
generation ; the animalcufa in semiiie masculo, and the ova
in the womb of the female ; the impregnation or animating
of one of these in distinction from all the rest, must depend
on things infinitely minute relating to the time and cir
cumstances of the act of the parents, the state of their bodies,
&c. which must depend on innumerable foregoing circum
stances and occurrences ; which must depend, infinite ways,
on foregoing acts of their Wills; which are occasioned
by innumerable things that happen in the course of their
lives, in which their own and their neighbour's behaviour
must have a hand, an infinite number of ways. And as
the Volitions of others must be so many ways concerned in
the conception and birth of such men ; so, no less, in their
preservation, and circumstances of life, their particular
determinations and actions, on which the great revolutions
they were the occasions of, depended. As, for instance,
when the conspirators in Persia, against the Magi, were
consulting about a succession to the empire, it came into
the mind of one of- them, to propose, that he whose horse
neighed first, when they came together the next morning,
should be king. Now, such a thing coming into his mind,
might depend on innumerable incidents, wherein the Vo
litions of mankind had been concerned. But, in conse
quence of this accident, Darius, the son of Hystaspes, was
king. And if this had not been, probably his successor
would not have been the same, and all the circumstances
of the Persian empire might have been far otherwise :
Then perhaps Alexander might never have conquered that
empire ; and then probably the circumstances of the world
in all succeeding ages, might have been vastly otherwise.
I might further instance in many other occurrences ; such
as those on which depended Alexander's preservation, in
the many critical junctures of his life, wherein a small trifle
would have turned the scale against him ; and the preser
vation and success of the Roman people, in the infancy of
their kingdom and commonwealth, and afterwards ; upon
which all the succeeding changes in their state, and the
mighty revolutions that afterwards came to pass in the
habitable world, depended. But these hints maybe suffi
cient for every discerning considerate person, to convince
him, that the whole state of the world of mankind, in all
ages, and the very being of every person who has ever lived
in it, in every age, since the times of the ancient prophets,
has depended on more Volitions, or acts of the Wills of
men, than there are sands on the sea-shore.
And therefore, unless God does most exactly and per
fectly foresee the future acts of men's Wills, all the predic
tions which he ever uttered concerning David, Hezekiah,
Josiah, Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, Alexander; concerning
the four monarchies, and the revolutions in them ; and
concerning all the wars, commotions, victories, prosperity,
and calamities, of any kingdoms, nations, or communities
in the world, have all been without knowledge.
So that, according to this notion, God not foreseeing the
Volitions and free actions of men, he could foresee nothing
appertaining to the state of the world of mankind in fu
ture ages ; not so much as the being of one person that
should live in it ; and could foreknow no events, but only
such as he would bring to pass himself by the extraordi
nary interposition of his immediate power; or things
which should come to pass in the natural material world,

31

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

by the laws of motion, and course of nature, wherein that
is independent on the actions or works of mankind : that
is, as he might, like a very able mathematician and astro
nomer, with great exactness calculate the revolutions of the
heavenlv bodies, and the greater wheels of the machine of
the external creation.
And if we closely consider the matter, there will ap
pear reason to convince us, that he could not, with any
absolute certainty, foresee even these. As to the first,
namely, things done by the immediate and extraordinary
interposition of God's power, these cannot be foreseen,
unless it can be foreseen when there shall be occasion for
such extraordinary interposition. And that cannot be fore
seen, unless the state of the moral world can be foreseen.
For whenever God thus interposes, it is with regard to the
state of the moral world, requiring such divine interposition.
Thus God could not certainly foresee the universal deluge,
the calling of Abraham, the destruction of Sodom and
Gomorrah, the plagues on Egypt, and Israel's redemption
out of it, the expelling of the seven nations of Canaan,
and the bringing Israel into that land ; for these all are
represented as connected with things belonging to the state
of the moral world. Nor can God foreknow the most
proper and convenient time of the day of judgment and
general conflagration; for that chiefly depends on the
course and state of things in the moral world.
Nor, Secondly, can we on this supposition reasonably
think, that God can certainly foresee what things shall
come to pass, in the course of things, in the natural and
material world, even those which in an ordinary state of
things might be calculated by a good astronomer. 1 For
the moral world is the end of the natural world ; and the
course of things in the former, is undoubtedly subordinate
to God's designs with respect to the latter. Therefore he
has seen cause, from regard to the state of things in the
moral world, extraordinarily to interpose, to interrupt, and
lay an arrest on the course of things in the natural world ;
and unless he can foresee the Volitions of men, and so
know something of the future state of the moral world, he
cannot know but that he may still have as great occasion to
interpose in this manner, as ever he had : nor can he fore
see how, or when, he shall have occasion thus to interpose.
Corol. 1. It appears from the things observed, that un
less God foresees the Volitions of moral Agents, that can
not be true which is observed by the apostle James, (Acts
xv. 18.) " Known unto God are all his works from the be
ginning of the world."
Corol. 2. It appears, that unless God foreknows the Vo
litions of moral Agents, all the prophecies of Scripture
have no better foundation than mere conjecture ; and that,
in most instances, a conjecture which must have the ut
most uncertainty ; depending on an innumerable multi
tude of Volitions, which are all, even to God, uncertain
events : however, these prophecies are delivered as absolute
predictions, and very many of them in the most positive
manner, with asseverations ; and some of them with the
most solemn oaths.
Corol. 3. It also follows, that if this notion of God's
ignorance of future Volitions be true, in vain did Christ
say, after uttering many great and important predictions,
depending on men's moral actions, (Matt. xxiv. 35.)
" Heaven and earth shall pass away ; but my words shall
not pass away."
Corol. 4. From the same notion of God's ignorance, it
would follow, that in vain has he himself often spoken of
the predictions of his word, as evidences of Foreknow
ledge ; of that which is his prerogative as GOD, and his
peculiar glory, greatly distinguisbing him from all other
beings; (as in Isa. xii. 22. — 26 xliii. 9, 10. xliv. 8. xiv.
21. xlvi. 10. and xlviii. 14.)
Arg. II. If God does not foreknow the Volitions of
moral Agents, then he did not foreknow the fall of man,
nor of angels, and so could not foreknow the great things
which are consequent on these events ; such as his sending
his Son into the world to die for sinners, and all things
pertaining to the great work of redemption ; all the things
which were done for four thousand years before Christ
came, to prepare the way for it ; and the incarnation, life,
death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ ; setting him
at the head of the universe as King of heaven and earth,

angels and men ; and setting up his church and kingdom
in this world, and appointing him the Judge of the world ;
and all that Satan should do in the world in opposition to
the kino-dom of Christ: and the great transactions of the
dav of ludgment, &c. And if God was thus ignorant, the
following scriptures, and others like them, must be with
out any meaning, or contrary to truth. (Eph. i. 4.) " Ac
cording as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation
of the world." (1 Pet. i. 20.) " Who verily was foreordain
ed before the foundation of the world." (2 Tim. i. 9.)
" Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling ;
not according to our works, but according to his own pur
pose, and grace, wbich was given us in Christ Jesus before
the world began." - So (Eph. iii. 11.) speaking of the wis
dom of God in the work of redemption, " according to the
eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus." (Tit.
i. 2.) " In hope of eternal life, which God that cannot he,
promised before the world began." (Rom. viii. 29.)
" Wrhom he did foreknow, them he also did predestinate,';
kc. (1 Pet. i. 2.) " Elect, according to the foreknowledge
of God the Father."
If God did not foreknow the fall of man, nor the re
demption by Jesus Christ, nor the Volitions of man since
the fall ; then he did not foreknow the saints in any sense;
neither as particular persons, nor as societies or nations ;
either by election, or by mere foresight of their virtue or
good works ; or any foresight of any thing about them re
lating to their salvation ; or any benefit they have by Christ,
or any manner of concern of theirs with a Redeemer.
Arg. III. On the supposition of God's ignorance of the
future Volitions of free Agents, it will follow, that God
must in many cases truly repent what he has done, so as
properly to wish he had" done otherwise: by reason that
the event of things, in those affairs which are most im
portant, viz. the affairs of his moral kingdom, being uncer
tain and contingent, often happens quite otherwise than he
was before aware of. And there would be reason to under
stand that, in the most literal sense, (Gen. vi. 6.) " It re
pented the Lord, that he had made man on the earth, and
it grieved him at his heart," (and 1 Sam. xv. 11.) contrary
to Numb, xxiii. 19. " God is not the son of Man, that he
should repent;" and 1 Sam.xv. 29. "Also the Strength
of Israel will not lie, nor repent ; for he is not a man that
he should repent." Yea, from this notion it would follow,
that God is liable to repent and be grieved at his heart, in
a literal sense, continuallv ; and is always exposed to an
infinite number of real disappointments in governing the
world ; and to manifold, constant, great perplexity and
vexation : but this is not very consistent with his title of
" God over all, blessed for evermore ;" which represents
him as possessed of perfect, constant, and uninterrupted
tranquillity and felicity, as God over the universe, and in
his management of the affairs of the world, as supreme
and universal ruler. (See Rom. i. 25. ix. 5. 2 Cor. xi. 31.
1 Tim. vi. 15^
Arg. IV. It will also follow from this notion, that as
God is liable to be continually repenting of what he has
done ; so he must be exposed to be constantly changing
his mind and intentions, as to his future conduct ; altering
his measures, relinquishing his old designs, and forming
new schemes and projects. For his purposes, even as to
the main parts of his scheme, such as belong to the state
of his moral kingdom, must be always liable to be broken,
through want of foresight ; and he must be continually
putting his system to rights, as it gets out of order, through
the contingence of the actions of moral Agents : he must
be a Being, who, instead of being absolutely immutable,
must necessarily be the subject of infinitely the most
numerous acts of repentance, and changes of intention, of
any being whatsoever; for this plain reason, that his vastly
extensive charge comprehends an infinitely greater number
of those things which are to him contingent and uncertain.
In such a situation, he must have little else to do, but to
mend broken links as well as he can, and be rectifying his
disjointed frame and disordered movements, in the best
manner the case will allow. The Supreme Lord of all
things must needs be under great and miserable disad^
vantages, in governing the world which he has made, and
of which he has the care, through his being utterly unable to
find out things of chief importance, which hereafter shall

Sect. XL

GOD FOREKNOWS OUR VOLITIONS-

35

befall his system ; for which, if he did but know, he might
make seasonable provision. In many cases, there may be
very great necessity that he should make provision, in the
manner of his ordering and disposing things, for some
great events which are to happen, of vast and extensive
influence, and endless consequence to the universe; which
he may see afterwards, when it is too late, and may wish
in vain that he had known before, that he might have or
dered his affairs accordingly. And it is in the power of
man, on these principles, by his devices, purposes, and
actions, thus to disappoint God, break his measures, make
him continually change his mind, subject him to vexation,
and bring him into confusion.
But how do these things consist with reason, or with the
word of God ? Which represents, that all God's works,
all that he has ever to do, the whole scheme and series of
his operations, axe from the beginning perfectly in his view ;
and declares, that whatever devices and designs are in the
hearts of men, " the counsel of the Lord shall stand, and
the thoughts of his heart to all generations," (Prov. xix. 21 .
Psal. xxxiii. 10, 11.) And " that which the Lord of hosts
hath purposed, none shall disannul," (Isa. xiv. 27.) And
that he cannot be frustrated in one design or thought, (Job
xiii. 2.) And " that which God doth, it shall be for ever,
that nothing can be put to it, or taken from it," (Eccl. iii.
14.) The stability and perpetuity of God's counsels are
expressly spoken of as connected with his foreknowledge,
(Isa. xlvi. 10.) " Declaring the end from the beginning,
and from ancient times the things that are not yet done ;
saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do my pleasure."
— And how are these things consistent with what the
Scripture says of God's immutability, which represents him
as " without variableness, or shadow of turning ;" and
speaks of him, most particularly, as unchangeable with re
gard to his purposes, (Mai. iii. 6.) " I am the Lord ; I
change not ; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed."
(Exod. iii. 14.) " I am that I am." (Job xxiii. 13, 14.)
" He is in one mind ; and who can turn him ? And what
his soul desireth, even that he doth : for he performeth the
thing that is appointed for me."
Arg. V. If this notion of God's ignorance of future Vo
litions of moral Agents be thoroughly considered in its
consequences, it will appear to follow from it, that God,
after he had made the world, was liable to be wholly frus
trated of his end in the creation of it; and so has been, in
like manner, liable to be frustrated of his end in all the
great works he had wrought. It is manifest, the moral
world is the end of the natural : the rest of the creation is
but a house which God hath built, with furniture, for
moral Agents : and the good or bad state of the moral
world depends on the improvement they make of their
natural Agency, and so depends on their Volitions. And
therefore, if these cannot be foreseen by God, because they
are contingent, and subject to no kind of necessity, then
the affairs of the moral world are liable to go wrong, to any
assignable degree ; yea, liable to be utterly ruined. As on
this scheme, it may well be supposed to be literally said,
when mankind, by the abuse of their moral Agency, be
came very corrupt before the flood, " that the Lord repent
ed that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him
at his heart ;" so, when he made the universe, he did not
know but that he might be so disappointed in it, that it
might grieve him at his heart that he had made it. It ac
tually proved, that all mankind became sinful, and a very
great part of the angels apostatized : and how could God
know before, that all of them would not ? And how could
God know but that all mankind, notwithstanding means
used to reclaim them, being still left to the freedom of
their own Will, would continue in their apostasy, and
grow worse and worse, as they of the old world before the
flood did ?
. According to the scheme I am endeavouring to confute,
the fall of neither men nor angels could be foreseen, and
God must be greatly disappointed in these events ; and so
the grand contrivance for our redemption, and destroying
the works of the devil, by the Messiah, and all the great
things God has done in the prosecution of these designs,
must be only the fruits of his own disappointment ; con
trivances to mend, as well as he could, his system, which
originally was all very good, and perfectly beautiful ; but
D 2

was broken and confounded by the free Will of angels and
men. And still he must be' liable to be totally disap
pointed a second time : he could not know, that he should
have his desired success, in the incarnation, life, death, re
surrection, and exaltation of his only-begotten Son, and
other great works accomplished to restore the state of
things : he could not know, after all, whether there would
actually be any tolerable measure of restoration ; for this
depended on the free Will of man. There has been a ge
neral great apostasy of almost all the Christian world, to
that which was worse than heathenism ; which continued
for many ages. And how could God, without foreseeing
men's Volitions, know whether ever Christendom would
return from this apostasy ? And which way would he
foretell how soon it would begin ? The apostle says, it
began to work in his time ; and how could it be known
how far it would proceed in that age ? Yea, how could it
be known that the gospel which was not effectual for the
reformation of the Jews, would ever be effectual for the
turning of the heathen nations from their heathen apostasy,
which they had been confirmed in for so many ages ?
It is represented often in Scripture, that God, who made
the world for himself, and created it for his pleasure, would
infallibly obtain his end in the creation, and in all his
works ; that as all things are n/'him, so they would all be
to him ; and that in the final issue of things, it would ap
pear that he is " the first, and the last." (Rev. xxi. 6.)
" And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega,
the beginning and the end, the first and the last." But
these things are not consistent with God's liability to be
disappointed in all his works, nor indeed with his failing of
his end in any thing that he has undertaken.

SECT. XII.
God's certain Foreknowledge of the future volitions of moral
agents, inconsistent with such a Contingence of those
volitions as is without all Necessity.
Having proved, that GOD has a certain and infallible
Prescience of the voluntary acts of moral agents, I come
now, in the second place, to show the consequence ; how it
follows from hence, that these events are necessary, with a
Necessity of connexion or consequence.
The chief Arminian divines, so far as I have had oppor
tunity (o observe, deny this consequence ; and affirm, that
if such Foreknowledge be allowed, it is no evidence of any
Necessity of the event foreknown. Now I desire, that
this matter may be particularly and thoroughly inquired
into. I cannot but think, that on particular and full con
sideration, it may be perfectly determined, whether it be
indeed so or not.
In order to a proper consideration of this matter, I would
observe the following things.
I. It is very evident, that, with regard to a thing whose
existence is infallibly and indissolubly connected with
something which already hath, or has had existence, the
existence of that thing is necessary. Here may be noted
the following particulars :
1. I observed before, in explaining the nature of
Necessity, that in things which are past, their past exist
ence is now necessary : having already made sure of exist
ence, it is too late for any possibility of alteration in that
respect ; it is now impossible that it should be otherwise
than true, that the thing has existed.
2. If there be any such thing as a divine Fore
knowledge of the volitions of free agents, that Foreknow
ledge, by the supposition, is a thing which already has, and
long ago had existence ; and so, now its existence is nccesr
sary; it is now utterly impossible to be otherwise, than
that this Foreknowledge should be or should have been.
3. It is also very manifest, that those things which are
indissolubly connected with other things that are neces
sary, are themselves necessary. As that proposition whose
truth is necessarily connected with another, proposition,
which is necessarily true, is itself necessarily true. To
say otherwise would be a contradiction : it would be in
effect to say, that the connexion was indissoluble, and yet
was not so, but might be broken. If that, the existence

36

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

of which is indissolubly connected with something whose
existence is now necessary, is itself not necessary, then it
may possibly not exist, notwithstanding that indissoluble
connexion of its existence.— Whether the absurdity be not
glaring, let the reader judge.
4- It is no less evident, that if there be a full, certain,
and infallible Foreknowledge of the future existence of the
volitions of moral agents, then there is a certain, infallible,
and indissoluble connexion between those events and that
Foreknowledge ; and that therefore, by the preceding ob
servations, those events are necessary events ; being in
fallibly and indissolubly connected with that, whose exist
ence already is, and so is now necessary, and cannot but
have been.
To say, the Foreknowledge is certain and infallible, and
yet the connexion of the event with that Foreknowledge is
dissoluble and fallible, is very absurd. To affirm it, would
be the same thing as to affirm, that there is no necessary
connexion between a proposition being infallibly known
to be true, and its being true indeed. So that it is per
fectly demonstrable, that if there be any infallible know
ledge of future volitions, the event is necessary; or, in
other words, that it is impossible but the event should come
to pass. For if it be not impossible but that it may be
otherwise, then it is not impossible but that the proposition
which affirms its future coming to pass, may not now be
true. There is this absurdity in it, that it is not impossi
ble, but that there now should be no truth in that proposi
tion, which is now infallibly known to be true.
II. That no future event can be certainly foreknown,
whose existence is contingent, and without all Necessity,
may be proved thus ; it is impossible for a thing to be
certainly known to any intellect without evidence. To
suppose otherwise, implies a contradiction : because for a
thing to be certainly known, to any understanding, is for it
to be evident to that understanding : and for a thing to be
evident to any understanding is the same thing, as for that
understanding to see evidence of it : but no understanding,
created or uncreated, can see evidence where there is none ;
for that is the same thing, as to see that to be which is
not. And therefore, if there be any truth which is abso
lutely without evidence, that truth is absolutely unknow
able, insomuch that it implies a contradiction to suppose
that it is known.
But if there be any future event, whose existence is con
tingent, without all Necessity, the future existence of the
event is absolutely without evidence. If there be anv evi
dence of it, it must be one of these two sorts, either self-evi
dence or proof; an evident thing must be either evident in
itself, or evident in something else : that is, evident by con
nexion with something else. But a future thing, whose
existence is without all Necessity, can have neither of
these sorts of evidence. It cannot be self-evident : for if it
be, it may be now known, by what is how to be seen in
the thing itself; its present existence, or the Necessity of its
nature : but both these are contrary to the supposition. It
is supposed, both that the thing has no present existence
to be seen ; and also that it is not of such a nature as to
be necessarily existent for the future : so that its future
existence is not self-evident. And secondly, neither is there
any proof, or evidence in any thing eke, or evidence of
connexion with something else that is evident ; for this is
also contrary to the supposition. It is supposed that there
is now nothing existent, with which the future existence of
the contingent event is connected. For such a connexion
destroys its contingence, and supposes Necessity. Thus it
is demonstrated, that there is in the nature of things ab
solutely no evidence at all of the future existence of that
event, which is contingent, without all Necessity, (if any
such event there be,) neither self-evidence nor proof. And
therefore the thing in reality is not evident ; and so cannot
be seen to be evident, or, which is the same thing, cannot
be known.
Let us consider this in an example. Suppose that five
thousand seven hundred and sixty years ago, there was no
other being but the Divine Being ; and then this world, or
some particular body or spirit, all at once starts out of
nothing into being, and takes on itself a particular nature
and form ; all in absolute Contingence, without any con
cern of God, or any other cause, in the matter ; without

any manner of ground or reason of its existence; or any
dependence upon, or connexion at all with any thing fore
going : I say, that if this be supposed, there was no
evidence of that event beforehand. There was no evidence
of it to be seen in the thing itself; for the thing itself, as yet, .
was not. And there was no evidence of it to be seen in
any thing else ; for evidence in something else, is connexion
with something else : but such connexion is contrary to
the supposition.- There was no evidence before, that this
thing would happen ; for by the supposition, there was no
reason why it should happen, rather than something else,
or rather than nothing. _ And if so, then all things before
were exactly equal, and the same, with respect to that and
other possible things; there was no preponderation, no
superior weight or value; and therefore, nothing that could
be of weight or value to determine any understanding.
The thing was absolutely without evidence, and absolutely
unknowable. An increase of understanding, or of the
capacity of discerning, has no tendency, and makes no
advance, towards discerning any signs or evidences of it,-
let it be increased never so much ; yea, if it be increased
infinitely. The increase of the strength of sight may have
a tendency to enable to discern the evidence which is far
off, and very much hid, and deeply involved in clouds and
darkness ; but it has no tendency to enable to discern
evidence where there is none. If the sight be infinitely
strong, and the capacity of discerning infinitely great, it
will enable to see all that there is, and to see it perfectly,
and with ease ; yet it has no tendency at all to enable a
being to discern that evidence which is not ; but on the
contrary, it has a tendency to enable to discern with great
certainty that there is none.
III. To suppose the future volitions of moral agents not
to be necessary events ; or, which is the same thing, events
which it is not impossible but that they may not come to
pass ; and yet to suppose that God certainly foreknows
them, and knows all things; is to suppose God's know
ledge to be inconsistent with itself. For to say, that God
certainly, and without all conjecture, knows that a thing
will infallibly be, which at the same time he knows to be
so contingent, that it may possibly not be, is to suppose
his knowledge inconsistent with itself; or that one thing
he knows, is utterly inconsistent witb another thing he
knows. It is the same as to say, he now knows a proposi
tion to be of certain infallible truth, which he knows to be
of contingent uncertain truth. If a future volition is so
without all Necessity, that nothing hinders but it may not
be, then the proposition which asserts its future existence,
is so uncertain, that nothing hinders, but that the truth of
it may entirely fail. And if God knows all things, he
knows this proposition to be thus uncertain. And that is
inconsistent with his knowing that it is infallibly true ; and
so inconsistent with his infallibly knowing that it is true.
If the thing be indeed contingent, God views it so, and
judges it to be contingent, if he views things as they are.
If the event be not necessary, then it is possible it may
never be : and if it be possible it may never be, God
knows it may possibly never be ; and that is to know that
the proposition, which affirms its existence, may possibly
not be true ; and that is to know that the truth of it is un
certain ; which surely is inconsistent with his knowing it
as a certain truth. If volitions are in themselves con
tingent events, without all Necessity, then it is no argu
ment of perfection of knowledge in any being to deter
mine peremptorily that they will be ; but on the contrary,
an argument of ignorance and mistake ; because it would
argue, that he supposes that proposition to be certain,
which in its own nature, and all things considered, is un
certain and contingent. To say, in such a case, that God
may have ways of knowing contingent events which we'
canuot conceive of, is ridiculous ; as much so, as to say,
that God may know contradictions to be true, for ought
we know ; or that he may know a thing to be certain, and
at the same time know it not to be certain, though we
cannot conceive how ; because he has ways of knowing
which we cannot comprehend.
Corol. 1. From what has been observed it is evident,
that the absolute decrees of God are no more inconsistent
with human liberty, on account of any Necessity of the
event, which follows from such decrees, than the absolute

Sect. XII.

FOREKNOWLEDGE INFERS NECESSITY.

37

¦ Foreknowledge of God. Because the connexion between
the event and certain Foreknowledge, is as infallible and
indissoluble, as between the event and an absolute decree.
That is, it is no more impossible, that the event and decree
should not agree together, than that the event and absolute
Knowledge should disagree. The connexion between the
event and Foreknowledge is absolutely perfect, by the sup
position : because it is supposed, that the certainty and in
fallibility of the Knowledge is absolutely perfect. .And it
being so, the certainty cannot be increased ; and therefore
the connexion, between the Knowledge and thing known,
cannot be increased ; so that if a decree be added to the
Foreknowledge, it does not at all increase the connexion,
or make it more infallible and indissoluble. If it were
not so, the certainty of Knowledge might be increased by
the addition of a decree ; which is contrary to the suppo
sition, which is, that the Knowledge is absolutely perfect,
or perfect to the highest possible degree.
There is as much impossibility but that the things which
are infallibly foreknown, should be, or, wbich is the same
thing, as great a Necessity of their future existence, as if
the event were already written down, and was known and
read by all mankind, through all preceding ages, and there
-was the most indissoluble and perfect connexion possible
between the writing and the thing written. In such a case,
it would be as impossible the event should fail of exist
ence, as if it had existed already ; and a decree cannot
make an event surer or more necessary than this.
And therefore, if there be any such Foreknowledge, as
it has been proved there is, then Necessity of connexion
and consequence is not at all inconsistent with any liberty
which man, or any other creature, enjoys. And from
hence it may be inferred, that absolute decrees, which do
not at all increase the Necessity, are not inconsistent with
the liberty which man enjoys, on any such account, as
that they make the event decreed necessary, and render it
utterly impossible but that it should come to pass. There
fore, if absolute decrees are inconsistent with man's liberty
as a moral agent, or his liberty in a state of probation, or
any liberty whatsoever that he enjoys, it is not on account
of any Necessity which absolute decrees infer.
Dr. Whitby supposes, there is a great difference be
tween God's Foreknowledge, and his decrees, with regard
to Necessity of future events. In his Discourse on the
five Points, (p. 474, &c.) he says, " God's Prescience has
no influence at all on our actions. — Should God, says he,
by immediate revelation, give me the knowledge of the
event of any man's state or actions, would my knowledge
of them have any influence upon his actions? Surely
none at all. — Our knowledge doth not affect the things we
know, to make them more certain, or more future, than
they would be without it. Now, Foreknowledge in God
is Knowledge. As therefore Knowledge has no influence
on things that are, so neither has Foreknowledge on things
that shall be. And consequently, the Foreknowledge of
any action that would be otherwise free, cannot alter or

# This distinction is of great importance in the present controversy ; and
the want of attending to the true ground on which it stands, has been, we
presume, the principal cause of Dr. Whitby's objections, and those of most,
if not all, other Arminian writers. They seem to consider, in this argu
ment, no other necessity but the decretive, as maintained by their oppo
nents ; and therefore infer, that to allow any kind of necessity, is the same
as to allow an infallible decree. From this view the transition is easy to
another conclusion, viz. that if any thing is foreknown because it is de
creed, every thing is foreknown on the same ground, or for the same rea
son.— And then, this proving too much— the decretive appointment of all
the evil in the universe, which they are sure is incompatible with the divine
character, and therefore impossible — they reject the whole doctrine of ne
cessity as a ground of foreknowledge ; and suppose that, though they can
not clearly disprove what is advanced against them , they infer that there is
somehow a sophism in the reasoning of their opponents, or some false prin
ciple assumed, were they but happy enough to detect it.
But our author, in this reasoning, does not maintain, that the connexion
by which every event is evidently certain, and therefore necessary, is so
because decreed. The truth is, that some events are foreknown to be cer
tain because foreordained ; and others, because of the tendency there is in
the nature of the things themselves,  Should any, in the way of objec
tion, assert, that the nature of things is itself derived from the divine will,
or decree ; we apprehend there is no evidence to support such an assertion.
For instance, is it owing to a decree that the nature of any created being is
dependent on the first cause ? That a creature, however exalted, is not
infinite ? That any relation should subsist between the Creator and a
creature ? Or that, if equal quantities be taken from equal quantities, the
remainders will be equal ? Is there any room, in thought, for a supposition
of any decree in the case ? Nay more, does it appear possible for a decree
to have made such things otherwise ?
Let it be observed, however, that God is the Almighty Sovereign over
nature — not indeed so far as to alter the nature of things, which in reality
is no object of power, any more than to make spirit to be the same thing as

diminish that freedom. Whereas God's decree of election
is powerful and active, and comprehends the preparation
and exhibition of such means, as shall unfrustrably pro
duce the end. — Hence God's Prescience renders no actions
necessary." And to this purpose, (p. 473.) he cites Ori-
gen, where he says, " God's Prescience is not the cause of
things future, but their being future is the cause of Gods
Prescience that they will be:" and Le Blanc, where he
says, " This is the truest resolution of this difficulty, that
Prescience is not the cause that things are future; but their
beingj'uture is the cause they are foreseen." In like man
ner. Dr. Clark, in his Demonstration of the Being and
Attributes of God, (p. 95—99.) And the Author of The
Freedom of Will, in God and the Creature, speaking to
the like purpose with Dr. Whitby, represents " Fore
knowledge as having no more influence on things known, to
make them necessary, than After-knowledge, or to that
purpose. To all which I would say ; that what is said about
Knowledge, its not having influence on the thing known to
make it necessary, is nothing to the purpose, nor does it in
the least affect the foregoing reasoning. Whether Prescience
be the thing that makes the event necessary or no, it alters
not the case. Infallible Foreknowledge may prove the
Necessity of the event foreknown, and yet not be the thing
which causes the Necessity.* If the Foreknowledge be
absolute, this proves the event known to be necessary, or
proves that it is impossible but that the event should be,
by some means or other, either by a decree, or some other
way, if there be any other way : because, as was said be
fore, it is absurd to say, that a proposition is known to be
certainly aud infallibly true, which yet may possibly prove
not true.
The whole of the seeming force of this evasion lies in.
this ; that, inasmuch as certain Foreknowledge does not
cause an event to be necessary, as a decree does ; therefore
it does not prove it to be necessary, as a decree does. But-
there is no force in this arguing : for it is built wholly on-
this supposition, that nothing can prove or be an evidence
of a thing being necessary, but that which has a causal in-.
fluence to make it so. But this can never be maintained.
If certain Foreknowledge of the future existence of an.
event be not the thing which first makes it impossible that
it should fail of existence ; yet it may, and certainly does
demonstrate, that it is impossible it should fail of it, how
ever that impossibility comes. If Foreknowledge be not
the cause, but the effect of this impossibility, it may
prove that there is such an impossibility, as much as if it
were the causes It is as strong arguing from the effect to
the cause, as from the cause to the effect. It is enough,
that an existence, which is infallibly foreknown, cannot
fail, whether that impossibility arises from the Foreknow
ledge, or is prior to it. It is as evident as any thing can
be, that it is impossible a thing, which is infallibly known
to be true, should prove not to be true ; therefore there is a
Necessity that it should be otherwise ; whether the Know-

matter, and vice versa, or the working of contradictions is an object of
power, but— by the position of antecedents, and establishing premises. To
illustrate this, let it be supposed, if God create a world, that world must
depend upon him, as a necessary consequence. To deny this, is to deny
the nature and identity of things. For what is it to create, but for an inde
pendent cause to impart, ad extra, a dependent existence ? So that to deny
dependence, is to deny creation. But ttiouph the consequence be necessary.
if ihe antecedent be established ; yet the antecedent itself is not necessary,
except from decree ; for there is not, in the nature of things, any antece
dent necessity that a world be created. That is, to suppose its non-exist
ence implies no contradiction, it being evidently the effect of sovereign
pleasure. Hence to deny the consequence, on supposition of the antece
dent, is to deny the nature of things, and to assert a contradiction, though
the antecedent itself be not necessary. Andhence also, in the instance now
specified among others innumerable, the antecedent is an object of decree*
but not the consequence. It is as absurd to say, that God decreed the de
pendence of the world upon himself, as it is to say, he decreed that two and
two shall be equal to four, rather than to five.
These remarks, duly considered in their just consequences, will abun
dantly show, that some things are necessary because decreed,— as the crea
tion, the preservation, and the government of the world ; the redemption, the
purification, and the salvation of the church : — and that other things— as all
imperfections, dependence, relations, and especially moral evils — come to
be necessary, and so capable of being foreknown, only by connexion, or
consequence. That is, if the antecedent, which is under the control of the
Almighty Sovereign, be admitted, the consequence follows infallibly from
the nature of things. But if another antecedent be established, another
consequence will follow, with equal certainty, also from the nature ofthings.
For instance ; if holiness be given and continued to a redeemed creature.
as an antecedent ; excellence, honour, and happiness are the necessary con
sequences. But if sire operate without control, as the antecedent, dis
honour and misery must be the necessary consequence from the same
cause. — W.

38

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

ledge be the cause of this Necessity, or the Necessity the
cause of the Knowledge.
All certain Knowledge, whether it be Foreknowledge or
¦After-knowledge, or concomitant Knowledge, proves the
thing known now to be necessary, by some means or other ;
or proves that it is impossible it should now be otherwise
than true  I freely allow, that Foreknowledge does not
prove a thing to be necessary any more than After-know
ledge : but then After-knowledge, which is certain and in
fallible, proves that it is now become impossible but that
the proposition known should be true. Certain After-
knowledge proves that it is now, by some means or other,
become impossible but that the proposition, which predi
cates past existence on the'event, should be true. And so
does certain Foreknowledge prove, that now, in the time of
the Knowledge, it is, by some means or other, become
impossible but that the proposition, which predicates
future existence on the event, should be true. The neces
sity of the truth of the propositions, consisting in the pre
sent impossibility of the non-existence of the event affirm
ed, in both cases, is the immediate ground of the certainty
of the Knowledge ; there can be no certainty of Knowledge
without it.
There must be a certainty in things themselves, before
they are certainly known, or which is the same thing,
known to be certain. For certainty of Knowledge is
nothing else but knowing or discerning the certainty there
is in the things themselves, which are known. Therefore
there must be a certainty in things to be a ground of cer
tainty of Knowledge, and to render things capable of being
known to be certain. And there is nothing but the neces
sity of truth known, or its being impossible but that it
should be true ; or, in other words, the firm and infallible
connexion between the subject and predicate of the propo
sition that contains that truth. All certainty of Knowledge
consists in the view of the firmness of that connexion. So
God's certain Foreknowledge of the future existence of
any event, is his view of the firm and indissoluble con
nexion of the subject and predicate of the proposition that
affirms its future existence. The subject is that possible
event ; the predicate is its future existence, but if future
existence be firmly and indissolubly connected with that
event, then the future existence of that event is necessary.
If God certainly knows the future existence of an event
which is wholly contingent, and may possibly never be,
then, he sees a firm connexion between a subject and
predicate that are not firmly connected ; which is a contra
diction. I allow what Dr. Whitby says to be true, that mere
Knowledge does not affect the thing known, to make it
more certain or more future. But yet, I say, it supposes
and proves the thing to be already, both future and certain ;
i. e. necessarily future. Knowledge of futurity, supposes
futurity; and a certain Knowledge of futuritv, supposes
certain futurity, antecedent to that certain Knowledge.
But there is no other certain futurity of a thing, antecedent
to certainty of Knowledge, than a prior impossibility but
that the thing should prove true ; or, which is the same
thing, the Necessity of the event.
I would observe one thing further ; that if it be as those
forementioned writers suppose, that God's Foreknowledge
is not the cause, but the effect of the existence of the event
foreknown ; this is so far from showing that this Fore
knowledge doth not infer the Necessity of the existence of
that event, that it rather shows the contrary the more
plainly. Because it shows the existence of the event to be
so settled and firm, that it is as if it had already been ; in
asmuch as in effect it actually exists already ; its future
existence has already had actual influence and efficiency,
and has produced an effect, viz. Prescience : the effect ex
ists already ; and as the effect supposes the cause, and de
pends entirely upon it, therefore it is as if the future event,
which is the cause, had existed already. The effect is firm
as possible, it having already the possession of existence,
and has made sure of it. But the effect cannot be more
firm and stable than its cause, ground, and reason. The
building cannot be firmer than the foundation.
To illustrate this matter ; let us suppose the appearances
and images of things in a glass, for instance, a reflecting
telescope, to be the real effects of heavenly bodies (at a

distance, arid out of sight) which they resemble : if it be
so, then, as these images in the telescope have had a past
actual existence, and it is become utterly impossible now
that it should be otherwise than that they have existed ;
so they being the true effects of the heavenly bodies they
resemble, this proves the existence of those heavenly bodies
to be as real, infallible, firm, and necessary, as the existence
of these effects ; the one being connected with, and wholly
depending on the other. — Now let us suppose future exist
ences, some way or other, to have influence back, to
produce effects beforehand, and cause exact and perfect
images of themselves in a glass, a thousand years before
they exist, yea, in all preceding ages ; but yet that these
images are real effects of these future existences, perfectly
dependent on, and connected with their cause. These
effects and images having already had actual existence;
render that matter of their existence perfectly firm and
stable, and utterly impossible to be otherwise ; and this
proves, as in the other instance, that the existence of the
things, which are their causes, is also equally sure, firm,
and necessary ; and that it is alike impossible but that
they should be, as if they had been already, as their effects
have. And if instead of images in a glass, we suppose the
antecedent effects to be perfect ideas of them in the Divine
Mind, which have existed there from all eternity, which
are as properly effects, as truly and properly connected
with their cause, the case is not altered.
Another thing which has been said by some Arminians,
to take off the force of what is urged from God's Prescience,
against the contingence of the volitions of moral agents, is
to this purpose ; " That when we talk of Foreknowledge,
in God, there is no strict propriety in our so speaking;
and that although it be true, that there is in God the most
perfect Knowledge of all events from eternity to eternity,
yet there is no such thing as before and after in God, but
he sees all things by one perfect unchangeable view, with
out any succession." — To this I answer,
1. It has been already shown, that all certain Knowledge
proves the Necessity of the truth" known ; whether it be
before, after, or at the same time. — Though it be true, that
there is no succession in God's Knowledge, and the man
ner of his Knowledge is to us inconceivable, yet thus much
we know concerning it, that there is no event, past, pre--
sent, or to come, that God is ever uncertain of. He never
is, never was, and never will be without infallible Know
ledge of it: ; he always sees the existence of it to be cer
tain and infallible. And as he always sees things just as
they are in truth ; hence there never is in reality anything.
contingent in such a sense, as that possibly it may happen
never to exist. If, strictly speaking, there is no Foreknow
ledge in God, it is because those things, which are future
to us, are as present to God, as if they already had exist
ence : and that is as much as to say, that future events are
always in God's view as evident, clear,.sure, and necessary,
as if they already were. If there never is a time wherein
the existence of the event is not present with God, then
there never is a time wherein it is not as much impossible
for it to fail of existence, as if its existence were present,
and were already come to pass.
God viewing things so perfectly and unchangeably, as
that there is no succession in his ideas or judgment, does
not hinder but that there is properly now, in the mind of
God, a certain and perfect Knowledge of the moral actions
of men, which to us are an hundred years hence : yea the
objection supposes this; and therefore it certainly does not
hinder but that, by the foregoing arguments, it is now im
possible these moral actions should not come to pass.
W'e know, that God foreknows the future voluntary ac
tions of men, in such a sense, as that he is able particu
larly to foretell them, and cause them to be recorded, as
he often has done ; and therefore that necessary connexion
which there is between God's Knowledge and the event
known, as much proves the event to be necessary before
hand, as if the Divine Knowledge were in the same sense
before .the event, as the prediction or writing is. If the
Knowledge be infallible, then the expression of it in the
written prediction is infallible ; that is, there is an infallible
connexion between that written prediction and the event.
And if so, then it is impossible it should ever be other
wise, than that the prediction and the event should agree ;

SE€T. XII.

FOREKNOWLEDGE INFERS NECESSITY.

39

and this is the same thing as to say, it is impossible but
that the event should come to pass*: and this is the same
as to say that its coming to pass is necessary. — So that it
is manifest, that there being no proper succession in God's
mind, makes no alteration as to the Necessity of the ex
istence of the events known. Yea,
.'2. This is so far from weakening the proof, given of the
impossibility of future events known, not coming to pass,
as that it establishes the foregoing arguments, and snows
the clearness of the evidence. For,
(1.) The very reason, why God's Knowledge is without
succession, is, because it is absolutely perfect, to the
highest possible degree of clearness and certainty. All
things, whether past, present, or to come, being viewed
with equal evidence and fulness ; future things being seen
with as much clearness, as if they were. present ; the view
is always in absolute perfection ; and absolute constant
perfection admits of no alteration, and so no succession ;
the actual existence of the thing known, does not at all
increase or add to the clearness or certainty of the thing
known : God calls the things that are not, as though they
were; they are all one to him as if they had already
existed. But herein consists the strength of the demon
stration before given ; that it is as impossible they should
fail of existence, as if they existed already. This objec
tion, instead of weakening the argument, sets it in the
strongest light ; for it supposes it to be so indeed, that the
existence of future events is in God's view so much as if
it already had been, that when they come actually to exist,
it makes not the least alteration or variation in his Know
ledge of them.
(2.) The objection is founded on the immutability of
God's Knowledge : for it is the immutability of Know
ledge that makes it to be without succession. But this
most directly and plainly demonstrates the thing I insist
on, vis. that it is utterly impossible the known events
should fail of existence. For if that were possible, then a
change in God's Knowledge and view of things, were
possible. For if the known event should not come into
being, as God expected, then he would see it, and so
would change his mind, and see his former mistake; and
thus there would be change and succession in his Know
ledge. But as God is immutable, and it is infinitely
impossible that his view sliould be changed; so it is, for
* In these two sections our author has abundantly demonstrated, that
foreknowledge infers necessity ; such a necessity as exists in the connexion
of a consequent with its antecedent ; and has represented, in various lights,
how the most contradictory and absurd conclusions follow from the oppo
site hypothesis. But as his argument, strictly speaking, did not require a
further explanation or distinction of the principles on which it rested, which
yet are important, it may not be improper in this place briefly to inquire
into the rationale of those principles ; by which his reasoning may appear
with additional evidence, and the radical principles themselves confirmed
by their connexion with others. As these remarks are presented in the
form of a series analytically disposed, we shall prefix to them the corre
sponding ordinal numbers.
1. Any kind of necessity is a sufficient ground of foreknowledge, in the
view of omniscience ; but as is the kind of necessity, or the nature of the
connexion between cause and effect, so is the nature of the foreknowledge.
But this difference in the nature of the connexion affects— not the certainty
of the event, but the mode of causation ; or from what cause the certainty

2. All necessity, or certainty of connexion between antecedent and con
sequent, must arise from one of these two sources, viz. the nature of
things, or, the decree of God. Chance is nothing ; and nothing has no
properties, consequently has no causal influence.
3. The necessity which arises from the nature of things, is either ab
solute or hypothetical Absolute necessity belongs only to the first
cause, or God. He exists absolutely; and to suppose him not to exist, or
not to have existed, is a contradiction. For the supposition itself is made
by a confessedly contingent being ; but a contingent being necessarily im
plies an absolute being, with as much certainty as an effect implies a cause ;
and consequently a first cause.
4. The first cause excepted, every other being, or mode of being, or any
event whatever, is only of hypothetical necessity. Any event is neces
sary, only on account of its relation to the first cause. This relation, or
necessary connexion, between an event and the first cause, is either in the
way of contrast, or in the way of dependence.
5. There are two things necessarily related to the first cause by way of
contrast ; passive power, which is a natural evil — if limited existence,
dependence, and insufficiency, in their necessary tendency, may be so
called — and sin, which is a moral evil; or something which, in point of
obligation, ought not to be.
6. The other mode of necessary relation to the first cause, arising from
the nature of things, is that of dependence. Every contingent being and
event must necessarily depend upon God, as an effect depends upon its cause.
Nor is it conceivable without involving the grossest contradiction and ab
surdity, that any contingent being should continue to exist, any more than
begin to exist, independent of the first cause. Sublata causa, tollitur
effectus, is justly entitled to be called an axiom in metaphysical science.
7, It was before observed, that all necessity must arise either from the
nature of things, or from the decree of God. What arises from the nature
of things, as a consequence, has for its antecedent, either an efficient or a
deficient cause.
8. A defect, no less than active efficiency, may be an antecedent, as

the same reason, just so impossible that the foreknown
event should not exist ; and that is to be impossible in the
highest degree; and therefore the contrary is necessary.
Nothing is more impossible than that the immutable God
should be changed, by the succession of time ; who com
prehends all things, from eternity to eternity, in one,
most perfect, . and unalterable view; so that his whole
eternal duration is vitm interminabilis, tota, simul et per-
fecta possessio.
On the whole, I need not fear to say, that there is no
geometrical theorem or proposition whatsoever, more
capable of strict demonstration, than' that God's certain
Prescience of the volitions of moral agents is inconsistent
with such a Contingence of these events, as is without all
Necessity ; and so is inconsistent with the Arminian no
tion of liberty.
Corol. 2. Hence the doctrine of the Calvinists, concern
ing the absolute decrees of God, does not all infer any
more fatality in things, than will demonstrably follow from
the doctrine of the most Arminian divines, who acknow
ledge God's omniscience, and universal Prescience. There
fore all objections they make against the doctrine of the
Calvinists, as implying Hobbes's doctrine of Necessity, or
the stoical doctrine of fate, lie no more against the doctrine
of Calvinists, than their own doctrine : and therefore it
doth not become those divines, to raise such an outcry
against the Calvinists, on this account.
Corol. 3. Hence all arguments of Arminians, who own
God's omniscience, against the doctrine of the inability of
unregenerate men to perform the conditions of salvation,
and the commands of God requiring spiritual duties, and
against the Calvinlstic doctrine of efficacious grace; on
this ground, that those doctrines, though they do not sup
pose men to be under any constraint or coaction, yet sup
pose them under _Vi.cess^/,must fall to the ground. And
their arguments against the Necessity of men's volitions,
taken from the reasonableness of God's commands, pro
mises, and threatenings, and the sincerity of his counsels
and invitations ; and all objections against any doctrines
of the Calvinists as being inconsistent with human liberty,
because they infer Necessity; I say, all these arguments
and objections must be justly esteemed vain and frivolous,
as coming from them ; being levelled against their own
doctrine, as well as against that of the Calviniats.*
founded in the nature of things, from whence a corresponding consequence
must follow ; but there is no defect in any antecedent but may be counter
acted by a decree ; so far counteracted, as that the defect shall not be an
operative cause.
9. The purposes of God are a series of antecedents, from whence follow,
by the very nature of things, corresponding good consequences, and good
only -. but the defect which is inseparable from created existence, consider
ed in itself, is also a cause in the sense of an antecedent ; otherwise a
created existence would be as indefectible as the creating or first cause,
which involves the most absurd consequences.
10. Defect is either natvral or moral ; and each arises from the nature of
things, as contradistinguished to decree, but in a different manner. Natural
defect arises from the nature of things in the way of contrast to God's
natural perfections ; which contrast forms the primary difference between
creator and creature.
11. This natural defect is different from defectibility ; for defectibility
expresses, in strictness, an effect not a cause; a liableness to defection.
But the question returns, What renders a creature liable to defect? To
say, Its liableness to defect, or its defectibility, assigns no true cause ; for
the question returns as before, what makes it liable, what makes it
defectible ?
12. Perhaps there is no term less exceptionable, in order to prevent cir
cumlocution, than passive power, to express that natural defect, which
exists in a created nature as a contrast to the natural (not the moral) per
fections of God.
13. Passive power is as inapplicable to God, as it is applicable to a
creature; for natural perfection is as applicable to him, as natural imper
fection is to us. — Therefore to say, that a creature is not the subject of passive
power, is the same as to say, that it is perfect and indefectible in its nature as
God is ; which is the grossest pantheism — the deification of every creature,
of every atom that exists.
14. All antecedents originate in either passive power or the divine de
crees. From the former proceed, according to the nature of things, all evil
consequents ; from the latter, all good.
15. Moral defect, is a contrast to the moral perfections, excellence, or
holiness of God; and arises, as a necessary consequence— not from the
divine decree as its antecedent, but— from the hypothetical nature of
things; that is. passive power, if not aided by a decretive interposition,
and if also united to liberty of choice in an accountable being.
16. The removal of the antecedent is the prerogative of the supreme
Lord of nature ; but if the antecedent be not removed, that is, altered from
what it was as to its causal influence, the consequence can no more be
prevented, than the nature of things can be changed.
17. That nature of things, or that necessity of consequence, whereby the
effect is infallibly connected with its cause, is nothing else but the essence
ofiixms, emanating from the first cause, the God of truth, or the true
God. 18. We now observe, that an event may be necessarily connected with
its cause by a divine decree. If the divine will contemplate an end, and
decree accordingly, it necessarily implies that the means, or the antece
dents to this consequence, are decreed.

40

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part II.

SECT. XIII.
Whether we suppose the volitions of moral Agents to be
connected with any thing antecedent, or not, yet they
must be necessary in such a sense as to overthrow Arminian
Liberty.
Every act of the Will has a cause, or it has not. If it
has a cause, then, according to what has already been
demonstrated, it is not contingent, but necessary ; the effect
being necessarily dependent and consequent on its cause,
let that cause be what it will. If the cause is the Will
itself, by antecedent acts choosing and determining ; still
the determined caused act must be a necessary effect. The
act, that is the determined effect of the foregoing act which
is its cause, cannot prevent the efficiency of its cause ; but
must be wholly subject to its determination and command,
as much as the motions of the hands and feet. The con
sequent commanded acts of the Will are as passive and as
necessary, with respect to the antecedent determining acts,
as the parts of the body are to the volitions which deter
mine and command them. And therefore, if all the free
acts of the Will are all determined effects determined by
the Will itself, that is by antecedent choice, then they are
all necessary ; they are all subject to, and decisively fixed
by, the foregoing act, which is their cause : yea, even the
determining act itself; for that must be determined and
fixed by another act preceding, if it be a free and voluntary
act; and so must be necessary. So that by this, all the
free acts of the Will are necessary, and cannot be free un
less they are necessary : because they cannot be free, ac
cording to the Arminian notion of freedom, unless they are
determined by the Will ; and this is to be determined by
antecedent cnoice, which being their cause, proves them
necessary. And yet they say, Necessity is utterly incon
sistent with Liberty. So that, by their scheme, the acts of
the Will cannot be free unless they are necessary, and yet
cannot be free if they be necessary !
But if the other part of the dilemma be taken, that the
free acts of the Will have no cause, and are connected with
nothing whatsoever that goes before and determines them,
in order to maintain their proper and absolute Contingence,
and this should be allowed to be possible ; still it will not
serve their turn. For if the volition come to pass by per
fect Contingence, and without any cause at all, then it is
certain, no act of the Will, no prior act of the soul, was the
cause, no determination or choice of the soul had any
hand in it. The Will, or the soul, was indeed the subject
of what happened to it accidentally, but was not the cause.
The Will is not active in causing or determining, but purely
the passive subject; at least, according to their notion of
19. Heuce, an event may be necessary, either because virtually deter-
;m'Hert by the divine will, in a series of antecedents ; or because the nature
of things operates without being affected, as to their casual influence, by
decretive antecedents.
20. To suppose any sort, or any degree of defect, to be decreed, is absurd
iu different ways. It is contrary to an established axiom, that from good
nothing but good can proceed — and it is absurd to impute that to a divine
decree, which antecedently arises from the nature of things.
-21. In reality, divine decrees (as before hinted) are nothing else than a
wonderful chain or series of positions, which are so many antecedents,
counteracting defects arising from the hypothetical nature of things.
Whence it necessarily follows, that?/ there were no passive power there
could be no divine decrees. For if good, and only good, arose from the
nature of things ; the decree, which has good only for its object, would be
superfluous, and therefore unworthy of divine volition.
22. Hence also, whatever event is in itself good, is an object of divine
decree in its antecedent ; and the event itself is connected with the decre
tive position by the very essence of truth. But whatever is in itself evil
arises from the hypothetical nature of things not counteracted by decretive
positions. 23. In God, his absolutely necessary, eternal, infinite, and unchangeable
nature, is to he regarded as an antecedent ; from which all possible happi
ness is the necessary consequence. Such an antecedent is not the result of
mere, arbitrary, or decretive will, but of absolute necessity, but all ante
cedents in a creature, or every causai influence, of which good, or happi
ness, whether natural or moral, is the consequence, must be the positions of
decretive will, as the only possible mode of securing a good result
24. As is the antecedent, so is the consequent ; for the connexion is formed
by eternal truth. If therefore a good event — for instance, a virtuous or
holy choice — be the consequent, the antecedent is a decretive position.
25. In reference to God, the proper and only ground of infallible cer
tainty that bis choice is good and praiseworthy, is the ooons-Rss of his
nature. Were we to admit in thought the possibility of a defectible na
ture, in him. in the same proportion must we admit a possible failure in the
goodness of his choice. And iu reference to a created being, the proper
and only ground of certainty that his choice will be good, is the antecedent
goodness of his nature or disposition. This alone is a sufficient causal in
fluence : but the goodness of a creature's disposition can be secured, as a
ground of certainty, only by decretive influence of a nature correspond
ing with the nature of the effect.
- 26. From Uiese principles and considerations, which can here be but

action and passion. In this case, Contingence as much
prevents the determination of the Will, as a proper cause;
and as to the Will, it was necessary, and could be no other
wise. For to suppose that it could have been otherwise, if
the Will or soul had pleased, is to suppose that the act is
dependent on some prior act of choice or pleasure, con
trary to what is now supposed ; it is to suppose that it
might have been otherwise, if its cause had ordered it
otherwise. But this does not agree to it having no cause
or orderer at all. That must be necessary as to the soul,
which is dependent on no free act of the soul : but that
which is without a cause, is dependent pn no free act of
the soul ; because, by the supposition, it is dependent on
nothing, and is connected with nothing. In such a case,
the soul is necessarily subjected to what accident brings to
pass, from time to time, as much as the earth that is inac
tive, is necessarily subjected to what falls upon it. But
this does not consist with the Arminian notion of Liberty,
which is the Will's power of determining itself in its own
acts, and being wholly active in it, without passiveness, and
without being subject to Necessity.— Thus, Contingence
belongs to the Arminian notion of Liberty, and yet is in
consistent with it.
I would here observe, that the author of the Essay on
the Freedom of Will, in God and the Creature, (p. 76, 77.)
says as follows : " The word Chance always means some
thing done without design. Chance and design stand in
direct opposition to each other : and Chance can never be
properly applied to acts of the Will, which is the spring
of all design, and which designs to choose whatsoever it
doth choose, whether there be any superior fitness in the
thing which it chooses, or no ; and it designs to determine
itself to one thing, where two things, perfectly equal, are
proposed, merely because it will." But herein appears a
very great inadvertence. For if the Will be the spring of
all design, as he says, then certainly it is not always the
effect of design ; and the acts of the Will themselves must
sometimes come to pass, when they do not spring from
design ; and consequently come to pass by Chance, ac
cording to his own definition of Chance. And if the Wilt
designs to choose ichatsoecer it does choose, and designs to
determine itself, as he says, then it designs to determine all
its designs. Which carries us back from one design to a
foregoing design determining' that, and to another deter
mining that ; and so on in infinitum. The very first de
sign must be the effect of foregoing design, or else it must
be by Chance, in his notion of it.
Here another alternative may be proposed, relating to
the connexion of the acts of the Will with something fore-
going that is their cause, not much unlike to the other ;
which is this : either human liberty may well stand with
briefly stated, as necessarily connected with their legitimate consequences,
we infer, that God foresees all good, in every created being, in every
mode, in every event, by the evidence of a decretive necessity; a ne
cessity resulting from actual influx, or perpetual energy, in the position of
antecedents, and the essence of truth connecting the causal influence with
the effect
27. From the same principles we learn, that God foresees or foreknows
all evil — however blended with the good, as the different colours in a
pencil of light are blended — in every Deing, and in every event where
found, by that necessity which is hypothetical only ; a necessity result
ing from the nature of tilings left to their own causal influence ; wnich in
fluence, in any given circumstances, will manifest itself either in the way of
contrast, of dependence, or both united.
28. Again : Volitions are acts of the mind, and each voluntary act is
compounded of a natural and moral quality. The natural quality of a
voluntary act proceeds from decretive necessity ; for there is nothing in it
but what is good, decreed, and effected by the first cause. The moral
quality of a voluntary act is either good or evil.
29. A voluntary act morally good, is altogetlier of decretive necessity,
both as to its physical and moral quality ; and is therefore foreknown be
cause of decretive appointment and energy. But a voluntary act morally
bad, is partly of decretive, and partly of hypothetical necessity, or that of
conseauence. 30. The physical quality of a voluntary act inorallu bad, is of de
cretive necessity, and is foreknown because foreappointed'; but the moral
quality of the same act, or its badness, is foreknown only by relation, con
nexion, or consequence. Thus deformity is the absence of beauty, and
may be known by the standard of beauty from which it deviates. Weak
ness is the absence of strength, and may be known by relation. A shadow is
known by the interception of rays, and may be known in the same manner.
Darkness is caused by the absence of light, and may be known by the light
excluded. 3! . How the bad quality of a moral act may be foreknown by Ihe evidence
of relation, will further appear from the consideration of the nature of moral
evil itself. For what is moral evil, or sin, but what ought not to hk, in
point of moral obligation '* Now for at all knowing, or foreknowing, what
ought not to be, which is incapable of being decreed, the proper medium or
evidence is the knowledge of what ought lo be.
32. If therefore what ought to be, is known to the omniscient by consti
tuted relalions. or voluntary appointment; what ought not to be may be
known by evident consequences. — \V.

Sect. XIII.

ARMINIAN LIBERTY INCONSISTENT.

4t

volitions being necessarily connected with the views of the
understanding, and so is consistent with Necessity ; or it
is inconsistent with and contrary to such a connexion and
Necessity. The former is directly subversive of the Ar
minian notion of Liberty, consisting in freedom from all
Necessity. And if the latter be chosen, and it be said,
that liberty is inconsistent with any such necessary con
nexion of volition with foregoing views of the understand
ing, it consisting in freedom from any such Necessity of
the Will as that would imply ; then the Liberty of the soul
consists, partly at least, in freedom from restraint, limita
tion, and government, in its actings, by the understand
ing, and in Liberty and liableness to act contrary to the
views and dictates of the understanding : and conse
quently the more the soul has of this disengagedness in its
acting, the more Liberty. Now let it be considered to what

this brings the noble principle of human Liberty, partictt-
larly when it is possessed and enjoyed in its perfection,
viz. a full and perfect freedom and liableness to act alto
gether at random, without the least connexion with, or
restraint or government by, any dictate of reason, or any
thing whatsoever apprehended, considered, or viewed by
the understanding ; as being inconsistent with the full
and perfect sovereignty of the Will over its own deter
minations. — The notion mankind have conceived of Liber
ty, is some dignity or privilege, something worth claiming.
But what dignity or privilege is there, in being given up
to such a wild Contingence as this, to be perfectly and
constantly liable to act unreasonably, and as much with
out the guidance of understanding, as if we had none, or
were as destitute of perception, as the smoke that is driven
by the wind !

PART III.
WHEREIN IS INQUIRED, WHETHER ANY SUCH LIBERTY OF WILL AS ARMINIANS HOLD, BE NECESSARY TO MORAL
AGENCY, VIRTUE AND VICE, PRAISE AND DISPRAISE, &c.

SECT. I.
God's moral Excellency necessary, yet virtuous and praise
worthy.
Having considered the first thing proposed, relating to
that freedom of Will which Arminians maintain ; namely,
Whether any such thing does, ever did, or ever can exist,
I come now to the second thing proposed to be the subject
of inquiry, viz. Whether any such kind of liberty be re
quisite to moral agency, virtue and vice, praise and blame,
reward and punishment, &c. .
1 shall begin with some consideration of the virtue and
agency of the Supreme moral Agent, and Fountain of all
Agency and Virtue.
Dr. Whitby in his Discourse on the five Points, (p. 14.)
says, " If all human actions are necessary, virtue and vice
must be empty names ; we being capable of nothing that
is blameworthy, or deserveth praise ; for who can blame a
person for doing only what he could not help, or judge that
ha deserveth praise only for what he could not avoid V
To the like purpose he speaks in places innumerable ;
especially in his Discourse on the Freedom of the Will ;
constantly maintaining, that a fieedom not only from co-
action, but necessity, is absolutely requisite, in order to ac
tions being either worthy of blame, or deserving of praise.
And to this agrees, as is well known, the current doctrine
of Arminian writers, who, in general, hold, that there is no
virtue or vice, reward or punishment, nothing to be cout
mended or blamed, without this freedom. And yet Dr.
Whitby (p. 300.) allows, that God is without this freedom ;
and Arminians, so far as I have had opportunity to observe,
generally acknowledge, that God is necessarily holy, and
his will necessarily determined to that which is good.
So that, putting these things together, the infinitely holy
God — who always used to be esieemed by God's people
not only virtuous, but a Being in whom is all possible
virtue, in the most absolute purity and perfection, bright
ness and amiableness ; the most perfect pattern of virtue,
and from whom all the virtue of others is but as beams
from the sun ; and who has been supposed to be, (being
thus every where represented in Scripture,) on the account
of his virtue and holiness, infinitely more worthy to be
esteemed, loved, honoured, admired, commended, extolled,
and praised, than any creature — this Being, according to
this notion of Dr. Whitby, and other Arminians, has no
virtue at all ; virtue, when ascribed to him, is but an
empty name; and he is deserving of no commendation or
praise ; because he is under necessity, he cannot avoid
being holy and good as he is ; therefore no thanks to him
for it. It seems, the holiness, justice, faithfulness, &c. of
the Most High, must not be accounted to be of the nature
of that which is virtuous and praiseworthy. They will not

deny, that these tilings in God are good ; but then we
must understand them, that they are no more virtuous, or
of the nature of any thing commendable, than the good
that is in any other being that is not a moral agent ; as the
brightness of the sun, and the fertility of the earth, are
good, but not virtuous, because these properties are neces
sary to these bodies, and not the fruit of self-determin
ing power.
There needs no other confutation of this notion, to
Christians acquainted with the Bible, but only stating and
particularly representing it. To bring texts of Scripture,
wherein God is represented, as in every respect, in the high
est manner virtuous, and supremely praiseworthy, would
be endless, and is altogether needless to such as have been
brought up in the light of the gospel.
It were to be wished, that Dr. Whitby and other di
vines of the same sort, had explained themselves, when
they have asserted, that that which is necessary, is not de
serving of praise; at the same time that they have owned
God's perfection to be necessary, and so in effect repre
senting God as not deserving praise. Certainly, if their
words have any meaning at all, by praise, they must mean
the exercise or testimony of esteem, respect, or honourable
regard. And will they then say, that men are worthy of
that esteem, respect, and honour for their virtue, small and
imperfect as it is, which yet God is not worthy of, for his
infinite righteousness, holiness, and goodness ? If so, it
must be, because of some sort of peculiar Excellency in the
virtuous man, which is his prerogative, wherein he really
has the preference ; some dignity, that is entirely distin
guished from any Excellency or amiableness in God ; not
in dependence, but in pre-eminence ; which therefore he
does not receive from God, nor is God the fountain or pat
tern of it ; nor can God, in that respect, stand in competi
tion with him, as the object of honour and regard ; but man
may claim a peculiar esteem, commendation, and glory, to
which God can have no pretension. Yea, God has no right,
by virtue of his necessary holiness, to intermeddle with
that grateful respect and praise, due to the virtuous man,
who chooses virtue, in the exercise of a freedom ad
utrumque ; any more than a precious stone, which cannot
avoid being hard and beautiful.
And if it be so, let it be explained what that peculiar
respect is, that is due to the virtuous man, which differs in
nature and kind, in some way of pre-eminence, from all
that is due to God. What is the name or description of
that peculiar affection? Is it esteem, love, admiration,
honour, praise, or gratitude ? The Scripture every where
represents God as the highest object of all these : there we
read of the soul magnifying the Lord, of " loving him
with all the heart, with all the soul, with all the mind, and
with all the 'Strength ;" admiring him, and his righteous
acts, or greatly regarding them, as marvellous and wonder-

42

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part III.

ful; honouring, glorifying, exalting, extolling, blessing,
thanking, and praising him ; giving unto him all tlie glory
of the good which is done or received, rather than unto
men ; " that no flesh should glory in his presence ;" but
that he should be regarded as the Being to whom all glory
is due. What then is that respect ? What passion, affec
tion, or exercise is it, that Arminians call praise, diverse
from all these things, which men are worthy of for their
virtue, and which God is not worthy of, in any degree ?
If that necessity which attends God's moral perfections
and actions, be as inconsistent with being worthy of praise,
as a necessity of co-action ; as is plainly implied in, or in
ferred from, Dr. Whitby's discourse ; then why should we
thank God for his goodness, any more than if he were
forced to be good, or any more than we should thank one
of our fellow-creatures who did us good, not freely, and of
good will, or from any kindness of heart, but from mere
compulsion, or extrinsical necessity 7 Arminians suppose,
that God is necessarily a good and gracious Being ; for this
they make the ground of some of their main arguments
against many doctrines maintained by Calvinists; they
say, these are certainly false, and it is impossible they should
be true, because they are not consistent with the goodness
of God. This supposes, that it is impossible but that God
should be good: for if it be possible that he should be
otherwise, then that impossibility of the truth of these
doctrines ceases according to their own argument.
That virtue in God is not, in the most proper sense, re
wardable, is not for want of merit in his moral perfections
and actions, sufficient to deserve rewards from his crea
tures ; but because he is infinitely above all capacity of
receiving any reward. He is already infinitely and un
changeably happy, and we cannot be profitable unto him.
But still he is worthy of our supreme benevolence for his
virtue : and would be worthy of our beneficence, which is
the fruit and expression of benevolence, if our goodness
could extend to him. If God deserves to be thanked
and praised for his goodness, he would, for the same
reason, deserve that we should also requite his kindness, if
that were possible. " What shall I render unto the Lord
for all his benefits ?" is the natural language of thankful
ness : and so far as in us lies, it is our duty to render again
according to benefits received. And that we might nave
opportunity for so natural an expression of our gratitude
to God, as beneficence, notwithstanding his being infinitely
above our reach, he has appointed others to be his re
ceivers, and to stand in his stead, as the objects of our
beneficence; such are especially our indigent brethren.

SECT. II.
The Acts of the Will of the human soul of Jesus Christ,
necessarily holy, yet truly virtuous, ' praise-worthy,
rewardable, ijc.
I have already considered how Dr. Whitby insists upon
it, that a freedom, not only from coaction, but necessity, is
requisite either to virtue or vice, praise or dispraise, reward
or punishment. He also insists on the same freedom as
absolutely requisite to a person being the subject of a law,
of precepts, or prohibitions ; in the book before mentioned,
(p. 301, 314, 328, 339, 340, 341, 342, 347, 361, 373,
410.) And of promises and threatenings, (p. 298, 301,
305, 311, 339, 340, 363.) And as requisite to a state of
trial, p. 297, &c.
Now therefore, with an eye to these things, I would
inquire into the moral conduct and practices of our Lord
Jesus Christ, which he exhibited in his human nature, in
his state of humiliation. And frst, I would show, that his
holy behaviour was necessary ; or that it was impossible it
should be otherwise, than tnat he should behave himself
holily, and that he should be perfectly holy in each indi
vidual act of his life. And. secondly, that his holy beha
viour was properly of thenature of virtue, and was worthy
of praise ; and that he was the subject of law, precept, or
commands, promises and rewards; and that he was in a state
of trial.
I. It was impossible, that the Acts of the Will of Christ's
human soul should, in any instance, degree, or circum

stance, be otherwise than holy, and agreeable to God's
nature and Will. The following things make this evident.
1. God had promised so effectually to preserve and up
hold him by his Spirit, under all his temptations, that he
could not fail of the end for which he came into the world ;
but he would have failed, had he fallen into sin. We have
such a promise, (Isa. xliii. 1—4.) " Behold my Servant,
whom I uphold ; mine Elect, in whom my soul delighteth :
I have put my Spirit upon him : he shall bring forth judg
ment to the Gentiles : he shall not cry, nor lift up, nor
cause his voice to be heard in the street. — He shall bring
forth judgment unto truth. He shall not fail, nor be dis
couraged, till he have set judgment in the earth ; and the
isles shall wait his law." This promise of God's Spirit
put upon him, and his not crying and lifting up his voice,
&c. relates to the time of Christ's appearance on earth ; as
is manifest from the nature of the promise, and also the
application of it in the New Testament, (Matt. xii. 18.)
And the words imply a promise of his being so upheld by
God's Spirit, that he should be preserved from sin ; par
ticularly from pride and vain-glory ; and from being over
come by any temptations he should be under to affect the
glory of this world, the pomp of an earthly prince, or the
applause and praise of men : and that he should be so
upheld, that he should by no means fail of obtaining the
end of his coming into the world, of bringing forth judg
ment unto victory, and establishing his kingdom of grace
in the earth. And in the following verses, this promise is
confirmed, with the greatest imaginable solemnity. " Thus
saith the Lord, he that created the heavens, and stretched
them out ; he that spread forth the earth, and that which
cometh out of it ; he that giveth breath unto the people
upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein : I the Lord
have called thee in righteousness, and will hold thine
hand ; and will keep thee, and give thee for a Covenant
of the people, for a Light of the Gentiles, to open the blind
eyes, to bring out the prisoners from the prison, and them
that sit in darkness out of the prison-house. I am Jeho
vah, that is my name," &c.
Very parallel with these promises is another, (Isa. xlix.
7, 8, 9.) which also has an apparent respect to the time of
Christ's humiliation on earth. — " Thus saith the Lord, the
Redeemer of Israel, and his Holy One, to him whom man
despiseth, to him whom the nation abhorreth, to a servant
of rulers ; kings shall see and arise, princes also shall
worship ; because of the Lord that is faithful, and the
Holy One of Israel, and he shall choose thee. Thus saith
the Lord, in an acceptable time have I heard thee; in a
day of salvation have I helped thee ; and I will preserve
thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, to establish
the earth," &c.
And in Isa. 1. 5, 6. we have the Messiah expressing his
assurance, that God would help him, by so opening his
ear, or inclining his heart to God's commandments, that he
should not be rebellious, but should persevere, and not
apostatize, or turn bis back : that through God's help, he
should be immovable in obedience, under great trials of
reproach and suffering ; setting his face like a flint : so that
he knew he should not be ashamed, or frustrated in his
design ; and finally should be approved and justified, as
having done his work faithfully. " The Lord hath opened
mine ear; so that I was not rebellious, neither turned
away my back : I gave my back to the smiters, and my
cheeks to them that plucked off the hair; I hid not my
face from shame and spitting. For the Lord God will
help me ; therefore shall I not be confounded : therefore
have I set my face as a flint, and I know that I shall not
be ashamed. He is near that justified, me : who will
contend with me ? Let us stand together. Who is mine
adversary ? Let him come near to me. Behold the Lord
God will help me:, who is he that shall condemn me?
Lo, they shall all wax old as a garment, the moth shall eat
them up."
2. The same thing is evident from all the promises which
God made to the Messiah, of his future glory, kingdom,
and success, in his office and character of a Mediator :
which glory could not have been obtained, if his holiness
had failed, and he had been guilty of sin. God's absolute
promise makes the things promised necessary, and their
failing to take place absolutely impossible : and, in like

Sect. II.

CHRIST'S VOLITIONS NECESSARILY HOLY, &c.

manner, it makes those things necessary, on which the
thing promised depends, and without which it cannot take
effect. Therefore it appears, that it was utterly impossible
that Christ's holiness should fail, from such absolute pro
mises as these, (Psal. ex. 4.) " The Lord hath sworn, and
will not repent, thou art a priest for ever, after the order of
Melchizedec." And from every other promise in that
psalm, contained in each verse of it. (And Psal. ii. 6, 7.)
" I will declare the decree : The Lord hath said unto me,
Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee : Ask of
me, and I will give thee the heathen for thine inheritance,"
&c. (Psal. xiv. 3, 4, &c.) " Gird thy sword on thy thigh,
O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty ; and in
thy majesty ride prosperously." And so every thing that
is said from thence to the end of the psalm. (See Isa. iii.
13 — 15. and liii. 10 — 12.) And all those promises which
God makes to the Messiah, of success, dominion, and
glory in the character of a Redeemer, (Isa. chap, xlix.)
3. It was often promised to the church of God of old,
for their comfort, that God would give them a righteous,
sinless Saviour. (Jer. xxiii. 5, 6.) " Behold, the days
come, saith the Lord, that I will raise up unto David a
righteous branch ; and a king shall reign and prosper, and
shall execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his
days shall Judah be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely.
And this is the name whereby he shall be called, The
Lord our righteousness." (So, Jer. xxxiii. 15.) " I will
cause the branch of righteousness to grow up unto David,
and he shall execute judgment and righteousness in the
land." (Isa. xi. 6, 7.) " For unto us a child is born; — ¦
upon the throne of David and of his kingdom, to order it
and to establish it with judgment and justice, from hence
forth, even for ever : the zeal of the Lord of hosts will
do this." (Chap. xi. 1, &c.) "There shall come forth a
rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out
of his roots; and the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon
him, — the spirit of knowledge, and the fear of the Lord : —
with righteousness shall he judge the poor, and reprove
with equity : — Righteousness shall be the girdle of his
loins, and faithfulness the girdle of his reins." (Chap. Iii.
13.) " My servant shall deal prudently." (Chap. liii. 9.)
" Because he had done no violence, neither was guile
found in his mouth." If it be impossible, that these pro
mises should fail, and it be easier for heaven and earth
to pass away, than for one jot or tittle of them to pass
away, then it was impossible that Christ should commit
any sin.  Christ himself signified, that it was impossi
ble but that the things which were spoken concerning him,
should be fulfilled. (Luke xxiv. 44.) " That all things
must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses,
and in the prophets, and in the psalms concerning me."
(Matt. xxvi. 53, 54.) " But how then shall the scripture
be fulfilled, that thus it must be?" (Mark xiv. 49.)
" But the scriptures must be fulfilled." And so the
apostle, (Acts i. 16, 17.) "This scripture must needs have
been fulfilled."
4. All the promises, which were made to the church
of old, of the Messiah as a future Saviour, from that made
to our first parents in paradise, to that which was delivered
by the prophet Malachi show it to be impossible that
Christ should not have persevered in perfect holiness.
The ancient predictions given to God's church, of the
Messiah as a Saviour, were of the nature of promises ; as
is evident by the predictions themselves, and the man
ner of delivering them. But thev are expressly and very
often called promises in the New Testament ; (as in Luke
i. 54, 55, 72, 73. Acts xiii. 32, 33. Rom. i. 1—3. and
chap. xv. 8. Heb. vi. 13, &c.) These promises were often
made with great solemnity, and confirmed with an oath ;
as, (Gen. xxii. 16, 17.) "By myself have I sworn, saith
the Lord, that in blessing I will bless thee, and in multi
plying I will multiply thy seed, as the stars of heaven,
and as the sand which is upon the sea-shore :  And in
thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed."
(Compare Luke i. 72, 73. and Gal. iii. 8, 15, 16.) The
apostle in Heb. vi. 17, 18. speaking of this promise to
Abraham, says, " Wherein God willing more abundantly
to show to the heirs of promise the immutability of his
counsel, confirmed it by an oath ; that by two immuta
ble things, in which it was impossible for God to lie,

43
we might have strong consolation." In which words, the
necessity of the accomplishment, or (which is the same
thing^ the impossibility of the contrary, is fully declared.
So God confirmed the promise of the Messiah's great sal
vation, made to David, by an oath ; (Psal. lxxxix. 3, 4.)
" I have made a covenant with my chosen, I have sworn
unto David my servant; thy seed will I establish for
ever, and build up thy throne to all generations." There
is nothing so abundantly set forth in Scripture, as sure and
irrefragable, as this promise and oath to David. (See
Psal. lxxxix. 34—36. 2 Sam. xxiii. 5. Isa. Iv. 4. Acts ii.
29, 30. and xiii. 34.) The Scripture expressly speaks of
it as utterly impossible that this promise and oath to David,
concerning the everlasting dominion of the Messiah, should
fail. (Jer. xxxiii. 15, &c.) "In those days, and at that
time, I will cause the Branch of righteousness to grow
up unto David. — For thus saith the Lord, David shall
never want a man to sit upon the throne of the house of
Israel." (Ver. 20, 21.) " If you can break my covenant
of the day, and my covenant of the night, and that there
should not be day and night in their season ; then may
also my covenant be broken with David my servant, that
he should not have a son to reign upon his throne." (So
in ver. 25, 26.) Thus abundant is the Scripture in repre
senting how impossible it was, that the promises made of
old concerning the great salvation and kingdom of the
Messiah should fail : which implies, that it was impos
sible that this Messiah, the second Adam, the promised
seed of Abraham, and of David, should fall from his inte
grity, as the first Adam did.
5. All the promises that were made to the church of
God under the Old Testament, of the great enlargement of
the church, and advancement of her glory, in the days of
the gospel, after the coming of the Messiah ; the increase
of her light, liberty, holiness, joy, triumph over her enemies,
&c. of which so great a part of the Old Testament con
sists ; which are repeated so often, are so variously ex
hibited, so frequently introduced with great pomp and
solemnity, and are so abundantly sealed with typical and
symbolical representations ; I say, all these promises imply,
that the Messiah should perfect the work of redemption :
and this implies, that he should persevere in the work,
which the lather had appointed him, being in all things
conformed to his Will. These promises were often con
firmed by an oath. (See Isa. liv. 9. with the context;
chap. lxii. 18.) And it is represented as utterly impossible
that these promises should fail. (Isa. xlix. 15. with the
context, chap. liv. 10. with the context; chap. li. 4 — 8.
chap. xl. 8. with the context.) And therefore it was im
possible that the Messiah should fail, or commit sin.
6. It was impossible that the Messiah should fail of per
severing in integrity and holiness, as the first Adam did,
because this would have been inconsistent with the
promises, which God made to the blessed Virgin, his
mother, and to her husband; implying, that he should
" save his people from their sins," that God would " give
him the throne of his father David," that he should
" reign over the house of Jacob for ever ;" and that " of
his kingdom there shall be no end." These promises were
sure, and it was impossible they should fail, and therefore
the Virgin Mary, in trusting fully to them, acted reason
ably, having an immovable foundation of her faith ; as
Elizabeth observes, (ver. 45.) " And blessed is she that
believeth ; for there shall be a performance of those things
which were told her from the Lord."
7. That it should have been possible that Christ should
sin, and so fail in the work of our redemption, does not
consist with the eternal purpose and decree of God, re
vealed in the Scriptures, that he would provide salvation
for fallen man in and by Jesus Christ, and that salvation
should be offered to sinners through the preaching of the
gospel. Thus much is implied in many scriptures, (as
1 Cor. ii. 7.— Eph. i. 4, 5. and chap. iii. 9—11  1 Pet. i.
19, 20.) Such an absolute decree as this, Arminians allow
to be signified in many texts ; their election of nations and
societies, and general election of the christian church, and
conditional election of particular persons, imply this. God
could not decree before the foundation of the world, to
save all that should believe in and obey Christ, unless he
had absolutely decreed, that salvation should be provided,

44

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part III.

and effectually wrought out by Christ. And since (as the
Arminians themselves strenuously maintain) a decree of
God infers necessity ; hence it became necessary, that
Christ should persevere and actually work out salvation for
us, and that he should not fail by the commission of sin.
8. That it should have been possible for Christ's holi
ness to fail, is not consistent with what God promised to
his Son, before all ages. For that salvation should be
offered to men, through Christ, and bestowed on all his
faithful followers, is at least implied in that certain and in
fallible promise spoken of by the apostle, (Tit. i. 2.) " In
hope of eternal life ; which God, that cannot lie, promised
before the world began." This does not seem to be contro
verted by Arminians.*
9. That it should be possible for Christ to fail of doing
his Father's Will, is inconsistent with the promise made to
the Father by the Son, the Logos that was with the Father
from the beginning, before he took the human nature : as
may be seen in Ps. xl. 6 — 8. (compared with the apostle's
interpretation, Heb. x. 5 — 9.) " Sacrifice and offering thou
didst not desire : mine ears hast thou opened, (or bored ;)
burnt-offering and sin-offering thou hast not required.
Then said I, Lb, I come ; in the volume of the book it is
written of me, I delight to do thy Will, O my God, yea,
thy law is within my heart." Where is a manifest allusion
to the covenant, which the willing servant, who loved his
master's service, made with his master, to be his servant for
ever, on the day wherein he had his ear bored ; which
covenant was probably inserted in the public records, called
the Volume of the Book, by the judges, who were called
to take cognizance of the transaction ; (Exod. xxi.) If the
Logos, who was with the Father before the world, and who
made the world, thus engaged in covenant to do the Will
of the Father in the human nature, and the promise was as
it were recorded, that it might be made sure, doubtless it
was impossible that it should fail ; and so it was impossible
that Christ should fail of doing the Will of the Father in
the human nature.
10. If it was possible for Christ to have failed of doing
the Will of his Father, and so to have failed of effectually
working out redemption for sinners, then the salvation of
all the saints, who were saved from the beginning of the
world, to the death of Christ, was not built on a firm
foundation. The Messiah, and the redemption which he
was to work out by his obedience unto death, was the
saving foundation of all that ever were saved. Therefore,
if when the Old-Testament saints had the pardon of their
sins and the favour of God promised them, and salvation
bestowed upon them, still it was possible that the Messiah,
when he came, might commit sin, then all this was on a
foundation that was not firm and stable, but liable to fail;
something which it was possible might never be. God did
as it were trust to what his Son had engaged and promised
to do in future time, and depended so much upon it, that
he proceeded actually to save men on the account of it,
though it had been already done. But this trust and de
pendence of God, on the supposition of Christ's being
liable to fail of doing his Will, was leaning on a staff that
was weak, and might possibly break. The saints of old
trusted on the promises of a future redemption to be
wrought out and completed by the Messiah, and built
their comfort upon it : Abraham saw Christ's day, and
rejoiced; and he and the other Patriarchs died in the
faith of the promise of it, (Heb. xi. 13.) But on this sup-
Eosition, their faith, their comfort, and their salvation, was
uilt on a fallible foundation ; Christ was not to them " a
tried stone, a sure foundation ;" (Isa. xxviii. 16.) David
entirely rested on the covenant of God with him, concern
ing the future glorious dominion and salvation of the Mes
siah ; and said it was all his salvation, and all his desire ;
and comforts himself that this covenant was an " everlasting
covenant, ordered in all things and sure," (2 Sam. xxiii. 5.)
But if Christ's virtue might fail, he was mistaken : his
great comfort was not built so " sure" as he thought it was,
being founded entirely on the determinations of the Free Will
of Christ's human soul ; which was subject to no necessity,
and might bedetermined either one way or the other. Also
the dependence of those, who " looked for redemption in
* See Dr. Whitby on the five Points, p. 48, 49, 50.

Jerusalem, and waited for the consolation of Israel," (Luke
ii. 25, and 38.) and the confidence of the disciples of Jesus,
who forsook all and followed him, that they might enjoy
the benefits of his future kingdom, were built on a sandy
foundation. .
11. The man Christ Jesus, before he had finished his
course of obedience, and while in the midst of temptations
and trials, was abundant in positively predicting his own
future glory in his kingdom, and the enlargement of his
church, the salvation of the Gentiles through him, &o. and
in promises of blessings he would bestow on his true dis
ciples in his future kingdom ; on which promises he re
quired the full dependence of his disciples, (John xiv.)
But the disciples would have no ground for such de
pendence, if Christ had been liable to fail in his work : and
Christ himself would have been guilty of presumption, in
so abounding in peremptory promises of great things, which
depended on a mere contingence ; viz. the determinations
of his Free Will, consisting in a freedom ad utrumque, to
either sin or holiness, standing in indifference, and inci
dent, in thousands of future instances, to go either one way
or the other.
Thus it is evident, that it was impossible that the Acts of
the Will of the human soul of Christ should be otherwise
than holy, and conformed to the Will of the Father; or,
in other words, they were necessarily so conformed.
I have been the longer in the proof of this matter, it be
ing a thing denied by some of tne greatest Arminians, by
Episcopius in particular ; and because I look upon it as a
point clearly and absolutely determining the controversy
between Calvinists and Arminians, concerning the neces
sity of such a freedom of Will as is insisted on by the
latter, in order to moral agency, virtue, command or pro
hibition, promise or threatening, reward or punishment,
praise or dispraise, merit or demerit. I now therefore
proceed, II. To consider whether Christ, in his holy behaviour
on earth, was not thus a moral agent, subject to commands,
promises, fyc.
Dr. Whitby very often speaks of what he calls a freedom
ad utrumlibet, without necessity, as requisite to law
and commands : and speaks of necessity as entirely incon
sistent with injunctions and prohibitions. But yet we read
of Christ being the subject of his Father's commands,
(John x. 18. and xv. 10.) And Christ tells us, that every
thing that he said, or did, was in compliance with " com
mandments he had received of the Father ;" (John xii. 49,
50. and xiv. 31.) And we often read of Christ's obtdiy
dience to his Father's commands, (Rom. v. 19. Phil. ii. 18.
Heb. v. 8.)
The forementioned writer represents promises offered as
motives to persons to do their duty, or a being moved and
induced by promises, as utterly inconsistent with a state
wherein persons have not a liberty ad utrumlibet, but are
necessarily determined to one. (See particularly, p. 298,
and 311.) But the thing which this writer asserts, is de
monstrably false, if the christian religion be true. Ifthere
be any truth in Christianity or the Holy Scriptures, the man
Christ Jesus had his Will infallibly and unalterably de
termined to good, and that alone ; but yet he had promises
of glorious rewards made to him, on condition of his perse
vering in and perfecting the work which God had ap
pointed him ; (Isa. liii. 10, 11,12. Psal. ii. and ex. Isa.
xlix. 7, 8, 9.) In Luke xxii. 28, 29. Christ says to his
disciples, "Ye are they which have continued with me in
my temptations ; and I appoint unto you a kingdom, as
my Father hath appointed unto me/' The word most
properly signifies to appoint by covenant, or promise. The
plain meaning of Christ's words is this : " As you have
partaken of my temptations and trials, and have been sted-
fast, and have overcome ; I promise to make you par
takers of my reward, and to give you a kingdom; as the
Father has promised me a kingdom for continuing sted-
fast and overcoming in those trials." And the words are
well explained by those in Rev. iii. 21. " To him that
overcometh, will I grant to sit with me on my throne ; even
as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in
his throne." And Christ had not only promises of glorious

Sect. II.

CHRIST'S VOLITIONS NECESSARILY HOLY, &c.

45

success and rewards made to his obedience and sufferings,
but the Scriptures plainly represent him as using these pro
mises for motives and inducements to obey and suffer ;
and particularly that promise of a kingdom which the
Father had appointed him, or sitting with the Father on his
throne; (as in Heb. xii. 1, 2.) " Let us lay aside every
weight, and the sin which doth easily beset us, and let us
run with patience the race that is set before us, looking
unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith ; who for
the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despis
ing the shame, and is set down on the right hand of the
throne of God."
And how strange would it be to hear any Christian
assert, that the holy and excellent temper and behaviour of
Jesus Christ, and that obedience which he performed
under such great trials, was not virtuous or praiseworthy ;
because his Will was not free ad utrumque, to either holi
ness or sin, but was unalterably determined to one ; that
upon this account, there is no virtue at all in all Christ's
humility, meekness, patience, charity, forgiveness of ene
mies, contempt of the world, heavenly-mindedness, sub
mission to the Will of God, perfect obedience to his com
mands unto death, even the death of the cross, his great
compassion to the afflicted, his unparalleled love to man
kind, his faithfulness to God and man, under such great
trials ; his praying for his enemies, even when nailing him
to the cross ; that virtue, when applied to these things, is
but an empty name; that there was no merit in any of
these things ; that is, that Christ was worthy of nothing at
all on account of them, worthy of no reward, no praise, no
honour or respect from God or man ; because his Will
was not indifferent, and free either to these things, or the
contrary ; but under such a strong inclination or bias to the
things that were excellent, as made it impossible that he
should choose the contrary ; that upon this account, to use
Dr. Whitby's language, it would be sensibly unreasonable
that the human nature should be rewarded for any of these
things. According to this doctrine, that creature who is evi
dently set forth in Scripture as the first-born of every
creature, as having in all things the pre-eminence, and as
the highest of all creatures in virtue, honour, and worthi
ness of esteem, praise, and glory, on account of his virtue,
is less worthy of reward or praise, than the very least of
saints ; yea, no more worthy than a clock or mere machine,
that is purely passive, and moved by natural necessity.
If we judge by scriptural representations of things, we
have reason to suppose, that Christ took on him our na
ture, and dwelt with us in this world, in a suffering state,
not only to satisfy for our sins ; but that he, being in our
nature and circumstances, and under our trials, might be
our most fit and proper example, leader, and captain, in the
exercise of glorious and victorious virtue, and might be a
visible instance of the glorious end and reward of it ; that
we might see in him the beauty, amiableness, and true
honour and glory, and exceeding benefit, of that virtue,
which it is proper for us human beings to practise ; and
might thereby learn, and be animated, to seek the like
glory and honour, and to obtain the like glorious reward.
(See Heb. ii. 9—14. with v. 8, 9. and xii. 1, 2, 3. John
xv. 10. Rom. viii. 17. 2 Tim. ii. 11, 12. 1 Pet. ii. 19, 20.
and iv. 13.) But if there was nothing of any virtue or
merit, or worthiness of any reward, glory, praise, or com
mendation at all, in all that he did, because it was all
necessary, and he could not help it ; then how is here any
thing so proper to animate and incite us, free creatures, by
patient continuance in well-doing, to seek for honour glory,
and virtue ?
God speaks of himself as peculiarly well pleased with
the righteousness of this distinguished servant. (Isa. xiii.
21.) " The Lord is well pleased for his righteousness'
sake." The sacrifices of old are spoken of as a- sweet sa
vour to God, but the obedience of Christ as far more
acceptable than they. (Psal. xl. 6, 7.) " Sacrifice and
offering thou didst not desire : mine ear hast thou opened
[as thy servant performing willing obedience;] burnt-
offering and sin-offering hast thou not required. Then said
I, I.o, I come, [as a servant that cheerfully answers the
calls of his master :] I delight to do thy will, O my God,
and thy law is within mine heart." (Matt. xvii. 5.) " This

is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased." And
Christ tells us expressly, that the Father loves him for that
wonderful instance of his obedience, his voluntary yielding
himself to death, in compliance with the Father's com
mand, (John x. 17, 18.) " Therefore doth my Father love
me, because I lay down my life : — No man taketh it from
me ; but I lay it down of myself— This commandment
received I of my Father."
And if there was no merit in Christ's obedience unto
death, if it was not worthy of praise, and of the most glo
rious rewards, the heavenly hosts were exceedingly mis
taken, by the account that is given of them, (Rev. v.
8 — 12.) " The four beasts, and the four and twenty elders,
fell down before the Lamb, having every one of (hem harps,
and golden vials full of odours ; — and they sung a new,
song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to
open the seals thereof; for thou wast slain  And I be
held, and I heard the voice of many angels round about
the throne, and the beasts, and the elders, and the number
of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thou
sands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, Worthy is
the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and
wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and bless
ing." Christ speaks of the eternal life which he was to receive,
as the reward of his obedience to the Father's command
ments. (John xii. 49, 50.) " 1 have not spoken of myself;
but the Father which sent me, he gave me a commandment
what I should say, and what I should speak : and I know
that his commandment is life everlasting : whatsoever I
speak therefore, even as the Father said unto me, so I
speak." — God promises to divide him a portion with the
great, &c. for his being his righteous servant, for his glori
ous virtue under such great trials and afflictions. (Isa. liii.
11, 12.) " He shall see the travail of his soul and be satis
fied : by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify
many ; for he shall bear their iniquities. Therefore will I
divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide
the spoil with the strong, because he hath poured out his
soul unto death." The Scriptures represent God as re
warding him far above all his other servants. (Phil. ii. 7 —
9.) "He took on him the form of a servant, and was made
in the likeness of men : and being found in fashion as a
man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death,
even the death of the cross : wherefore God also hath highly
exalted him, and given him a name above every name."
(Psal. xiv. 7.) " Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest
wickedness ; therefore God, thy God, hath anointed thee
with the oil of gladness above thy fellows."
There is no room to pretend, that the glorious benefits
bestowed in consequence of Christ's obedience, are not
properly of the nature of a reward. What is a reward, in
the most proper sense, but a benefit bestowed in conse
quence of something morally excellent in quality or be
haviour, in testimony of well-pleasedness in that moral
excellency, and of respect and favour on that account ? If
we consider the nature of a reward most strictly, and
make the utmost of it, and add to the things contained in
this description proper merit or worthiness, and the be-
stowment of the benefit in consequence of a promise ;
still it will be found, there is nothing belonging to it, but
what the Scripture most expressly ascribes to the glory be
stowed on Christ, after his sufferings ; as appears from
what has been already observed : there was a glorious
benefit bestowed in consequence of something morally ex
cellent, being called Righteousness and Obedience; there
was great favour, love, and well-pleasedness, for this
righteousness and obedience, in the bestower; there was
proper merit, or worthiness of the benefit, in the obedience ;
it was bestowed in fulfilment of promises, made to that
obedience ; and was bestowed therefore, or because he had
performed that obedience.
I may add to all these things, that Jesus Christ, while
here in the flesh, was manifestly in a state of trial. The
last Adam, as Christ is called, (1 Cor. xv. 45. Rom. v.
14.) taking on him the human nature, and so the form of
a servant, and being under the law, to stand and act for
us, was put into a state of trial, as the first Adam was. —
Dr. Whitby mentions these three things as evidences of
persons being in a state of trial, (on the five Points, p.

46

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part III.

298, 299.) namely, their afflictions being spoken of as
their . trials or temptations, their being the subjects of
promises, and their being exposed to Satan's temptations.
But Christ was apparently the subject of each of these.
Concerning promises made to him, I have spoken already.
The difficulties and afflictions he met with in the course
of his obedience, are called his temptations or trials,
(Luke xxii. 28.) " Ye are they which have continued with
me in my temptations or trials." (Heb. ii. 18.) " For in
that he himself hath suffered, being tempted [or tried,] he
is able to succour them that are tempted." And, (chap. iv.
15.) " We have not an high-priest, which cannot be
touched with the feeling of our infirmities ; but was in all
points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." And as
to his being tempted by Satan it is what none will dispute.

SECT. III.
The case of such as are given up of God to sin, and. of fallen
man in general, proves moral Necessity and Inability to
be consistent with Blameworthiness.
Dr. Whitby asserts freedom, not only from coaction,
but Necessity, to be essential to any thing deserving the
name of sin, and to an action being culpable ; in these
words, (Discourse on five Points, edit. 3. p. 348.) " If
they be thus necessitated, then neither their sins of omission
or commission could deserve that name : it being essential
to the nature of sin, according to St. Austin's definition,
that it be an action a quo liberum est abstinere. Three
things seem plainly necessary to make an action or omis
sion culpable; 1. That it be in our power to perform or
forbear it : for, as Origen, and all the fathers, say, no man
is blameworthy for not doing what he could not do." And
elsewhere the Doctor insists, that " when any do evil of
Necessity, what they do is no vice, that they are guilty of
no fault,* are worthy of no blame, dispraise,f or disho-
nourj but are unblamable."§
If these things are true, in Dr. Whitby's sense of Ne
cessity, they will prove all such to be blameless, who are
given up of God to sin, in what they commit after they
are thus given up. — That there is such a thing as men
being judicially given up to sin, is certain, if the Scripture
rightly informs us ; such a thing being often there spoken
of: as in Psal. lxxxi. 12. "So I gave them up to their
own hearts' lust, and they walked in their own counsels."
(Acts vii. 42.) " Then God turned, and gave them un to
worship the host of heaven." (Rom. i. 24.) " Wherefore,
God also gave them up to uncleanness, through the lusts
of their own hearts, to dishonour their own bodies between
themselves." (Ver. 26.) " For this cause God gave them
up to vile affections." (Ver. 28.) " And even as they did
not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them
over to a reprobate mind, to do those things that are not
convenient.' It is needless to stand particularly to inquire, what
God's " giving men up to their own hearts' lusts signifies :
it is sufficient to observe, that hereby is certainly meant
God so ordering or disposing things, in some respect or
other, either by doing or forbearing to do, as that the con
sequence should be men continuing in their sins. So much
as men are given up to, so much is the consequence of
their being given up, whether that be less or more. If
God does not order things so, by action or permission, that
sin will be the consequence, then the ' wait proves that they
are not given up to that consequence. If good be the
consequence, instead of evil, then God's mercy is to be
acknowledged in that good ; which mercy must be con
trary to God's judgment in giving up to evil. If the event
must prove, that they are given up to evil as the conse
quence, then the persons, who are the subjects of this
judgment, must be the subjects of such an event, and so
the event is necessary.
If not only coaction, but all Necessity, will prove men
blameless, then Judas was blameless, after Christ had given
him over, and had already declared his certain damnation,
and that he should verily betray him. He was guilty of

« Discourse on the five Points, p. Mt, 360, 361, 377

t 303, 326, 329,

no sin in betraying his Master, on this supposition ; though
his so doing is spoken of by Christ as the most aggravated
sin, more heinous than the sin of Pilate in crucifying him.
And the Jcvs in Egypt, in Jeremiah's time, were guilty of
no sin, in their not worshipping the true God, after God
had " sworn by his great name, that his name should be
no more named in the mouth of any man of Judah, in all
the land of Egypt," (Jer. xliv. 26.)
Dr. Whitby (Disc, on five Points, p. 302, 303.) de
nies, that men, in this world, are ever so given up by God
to sin, that their Wills should be necessarily determined
to evil ; though he owns, that hereby it may become ex
ceeding difficult for men to do good, having a strong bent
and powerful inclination to what is evil — But if we should
allow the case to be just as he represents, the judgment
of giving up to sin will no better agree with his notions of
that liberty, which is essential to praise or blame, than if
we should suppose it to render the avoiding of sin impos
sible. For if an impossibility of avoiding sin whollv ex
cuses a man ; then for the same reason, its being difficult
to avoid it, excuses him in part; and this just in propor
tion to the degree of difficulty. — If the influence of moral
impossibility or inability be the same, to excuse persons in
not doing or not avoiding any thing, as that of natural in
ability, (which is supposed,) then undoubtedly, in like
manner, moral difficulty has the same influence to excuse
with natural difficulty. But all allow, that natural impos
sibility wholly excuses, and also that natural difficulty
excuses in part, and makes the act or omission less blame-
able in proportion to the difficulty. All natural difficulty,
according to the plainest dictates of the light of nature,
excuses in some degree, so that the neglect is not so
blamable, as if there had been no difficulty in the case :
and so the greater the difficulty is, still the more excuse-
able, in proportion to the increase of the difficulty. And
as natural impossibility wholly excuses, and excludes all
blame, so the nearer the difficulty approaches to impossi
bility, still the nearer a person is to blamelessness in proj
portion to that approach. And if the case of moral impos
sibility or Necessity, be just the same with natural
Necessity or coaction, as to its influence to excuse a
neglect, then also, for the same reason, the case of natural
difficulty does not differ in influence, to excuse a neglect,'
from moral difficulty, arising from a strong bias or bent to
evil, such as Dr. W'hitby owns in the case of those that
are given up to their own hearts' lusts. So that the fault
of such persons must be lessened, in proportion to the
difficulty, and approach to impossibility.. If ten degrees
of moral difficulty make the action quite impossible, and
so wholly excuse, then if there be nine degrees of diffi
culty, the person is in great part excused, and is nine de
grees in ten less blameworthy, than if there had been no
difficulty at all ; and he has but one degree of blame
worthiness. The reason is plain, on Arminian principles ;
viz. because as difficulty, by antecedent bent and bias on
the Will, is increased, liberty of indifference, and self-de
termination in the Wili, is diminished ; so much hinderance,
impediment is there, in the way of the Will acting freely,
by mere self-determination. And if ten degrees of such
hinderance take away all such liberty, then nine degrees
take away nine parts in ten, and leave but one degree of
liberty. And therefore there is but one degree of blame-
ableness, ceteris paribus, in the neglect ; the man being no
further blamable in what he does, or neglects, than he has
liberty in that affair : for blame or praise (say they) arises
wholly from a good use or abuse of liberty.
From all which it follows, that a strong bent and bias
one way, and difficulty of going the contrary, never causes
a person to be at all more exposed to sin, or any thing
blamable : because, as the difficulty is increased, so
much the less is required and expected. Though in one
respect, exposedness to sin is increased, viz. by an increase
of exposedness to the evil action or omission ; yet it is
diminished in another respect, to balance it ; namely, as
the sinfulness or blamableness of the action or omission is
diminished in the same proportion. So that, on the whole,
the affair, as to exposedness to guilt or blame, is left just
as it was.

and many other places.

I 371.

§ 304, 361.

Sect. III.

MORAL NECESSITY AND INABILITY, CONSISTENT.

To illustrate this, let us suppose a scale of a balance to
be intelligent, and a free agent, and indued with a self-
moving power, by virtue of which it could act and pro
duce effects to a certain degree, ex. sr. to move itself up or
down with a force equal to a weight of ten pounds ; and
that it might therefore be required of it, in ordinary cir
cumstances, to move itself down with that force ; for which
it has power and full liberty, and therefore would be
blameworthy if it failed of it. But then let us suppose a
weight of ten pounds to be put in the opposite scale,
which in force entirely counterbalances its self-moving
power, and so renders it impossible for it to move down at
all ; and therefore wholly excuses it from any such motion.
But if we suppose there to be only nine pounds in the
opposite scale, this renders its motion not impossible, but
yet more difficult ; so that it can now only move down
with the force of one pound : but however, this is all that
is required of it under these circumstances ; it is wholly
excused from nine parts of its motion : and if the scale,
under these circumstances, neglect to move, and remain at
rest, all that it will be blamed for, will be its neglect of
that one tenth part of its motion ; for which it had as much
liberty and advantage, as in usual circumstances it has for
the greater motion, which in such a case would be re
quired. So that this new difficulty does not at all increase
its exposedness to any thing blameworthy.
And thus the very supposition of difficulty in the way
of a man's duty, or proclivity to sin, through a being given
up to hardness of heart, or indeed by any other means
whatsoever, is an inconsistence, according to Dr. Whitby's
notions of liberty, virtue and vice, blame and praise. The
avoiding of sin and blame, and the doing of what is vir
tuous and praiseworthy, must be always equally easy.
Dr. Whitby's notions of liberty, obligation, virtue, sin,
&c. led him into another great inconsistence. He abun
dantly insists, that necessity is inconsistent with the na
ture of sin or fault. He says, in the forementioned trea
tise, (p. 14.) Who can blame a person for doing what he
could not help ? And, (p. 15.) It being sensibly unjust, to
punish any man for doing that which was never in his power
to avoid. And, (p. 341.) to confirm his opinion, he quotes
one of the fathers, saying, Why doth God command, if
man hath not free will and power to obey ? And again, in
the same and the next page, Who will not cry out, that it
is folly to command him, that hath not liberty to do what is
commanded; and that it is unjust to condemn him, that has
it not in his power to do what is required? And, (p. 373.)
he cites another saying, A law is given to him that can turn
to both parts; i. e. obey or transgress it ; but no law can
be against him who is bound by nature.
And yet the same Dr. Whitby asserts, that fallen man
is not able to perform perfect obedience. In p. 165, he has
these words : " The nature of Adam had power to continue
innocent, and without sin ; whereas, it is certain our na
ture never had." But if we have not power to continue
innocent and without sin, then sin is not inconsistent with
Necessity, and we may be sinful in that which we have not
power to avoid ; and those things cannot be true, which
he asserts elsewhere, namely, " That if we be necessitated,
neither sins of omission nor commission, would deserve
that name," (p. 348.) - If we have it not in our power to be
innocent, then we have it not in our power to be blame
less; and if so, we are under a Necessity of being blame
worthy. And how does this consist with what he so often
asserts, that Necessity is inconsistent with blame or praise ?
If we have it not in our power to perform perfect obedience
to all the commands of God, then we are under a Neces
sity of breaking some commands, in some degree ; having
no power to perform so much as is commanded. And if
so, why does he cry out of the unreasonableness and folly
of commanding beyond what men have power to do ?
Arminians in general are very inconsistent with them
selves, in what they say of the Inability of fallen man in
this respect. They strenuously maintain, that it would be
unjust in God, to require any thing of us beyond our pre
sent power and ability to perform ; and also hold that we
are now unable to perform perfect obedience, and that
Christ died to satisfy for the imperfections of our obedience,
* Treatiseofthe Operations of the Spirit 2 edit p. 112, 113.

47
and has made way, that our imperfect obedience might be
accepted instead of perfect ; wherein they seem insensibly
to run themselves into the grossest inconsistence. For (as
I have observed elsewhere) " they hold that God, in mercy
to mankind, has abolished that rigorous constitution or law,
that they were under originally, and instead of it, has in
troduced a more mild constitution, and put us under a new
law, which requires no more than imperfect sincere obe
dience, in compliance with our poor infirm impotent cir
cumstances since the fall."
Now how can these things be made consistent? I would
ask, of what law are these imperfections of our obedience a
breach ? If they are a breach of no law that we were ever
under, then they are not sins. And if they be not sins,
what need of Christ dying to satisfy for them ? But if they
are sins, and the breach of some law, what law is it ? They
cannot be a breach of their new law, for that requires no
other than imperfect obedience, or obedience with imper
fections: and therefore to have obedience attended with
imperfections, is no breach of it ; for it is as much as it
requires. And they cannot be a breach of their old law :
for that, they say, is entirely abolished ; and we never were
under it. — They say, it would not be just in God to re
quire of us perfect obedience, because it would not be just
to require more than we can perform, or to punish us for
failing of it. And, therefore, by their own scheme, the
imperfections of our obedience do not deserve to be punish
ed. What need therefore of Christ dying, to satisfy for
them ? What need of his suffering, to satisfy for that which
is no fault, and in its own nature deserves no suffering?
What need of Christ dying, to purchase, that our imperfect
obedience should be accepted, when, according to their
scheme, it would be unjust in itself, that any other obe
dience than imperfect should be required 7 What need of
Christ dying to make way for God's accepting of such obe
dience, as it would be unjust in him not to accept ? Is
there any need of Christ dying to prevail with God not to
do unrighteously ? — If it be said, that Christ died to
satisfy that old law for us, that so we might not be under
it, but that there might be room for our being under a more
mild law ; still I would inquire, what need of Christ dying,
that we might not be under a law, which (by their prin
ciples) it would be in itself unjust that we should be un
der, whether Christ had died or no, because, in our present
state, we are not able to keep it ?
So the Arminians are inconsistent with themselves, not
only, in what they say of the need of Christ's satisfaction
to atone for those imperfections, which we cannot avoid,
but also in what they say of the grace of God, granted to
enable men to perform the sincere obedience of the new
law. " I grant indeed, (says Dr. Stebbing,*) that by origi
nal sin, we are utterly disabled for the performance of the
condition, without new grace from God. But I say then,
that he gives such a grace to all of us, by which the per
formance of the condition, is truly possible ; and upon this
ground he may and doth most righteously require it." If
Dr. Stebbing intends to speak properly, by grace he must
mean, that assistance which is of grace, or of free favour
and kindness. But yet in the same place he speaks of it
as very unreasonable, unjust, and cruel, for God to require
that, as the condition of pardon, that is become impossible
by original sin. If it be so, what grace is there in giving
assistance and ability to perform the condition of pardon 7
Or why is that called by the name of grace, that is an ab
solute debt, which God is bound to bestow, and which it
would be unjust and cruel in him to withhold, seeing he
requires that, as the condition of pardon, which he cannot
perforin without it ?

SECT. IV.
Command and Obligation to Obedience, consistent with
moral Inability to obey.f
It being so much insisted on by Arminian writers, that
necessity is inconsistent with law or command, and parti
cularly, that it is absurd to suppose God by his command
t The subject of " obligation to obedience," or mobal obligation, though

48

ON THE FREEDOM OP THE WILL.

Part III.

should require that of men which they are unable to do ;
not allowing in this case for any difference between na
tural and moral Inability ; I would therefore now particu
larly consider this matter. — And for greater clearness I
would distinctly lay down the following things.
I. The Will itself, and not only those actions which are
the effects of the Will, is the "proper object of Precept or
Command. That is, such a state or acts of men's Wills,
are in many cases properly required of them by Com
mands ; and not only those alterations in the state of their
bodies or minds that are the consequences of volition.
This is most manifest ; for it is the soul only that is pro
perly and directly the subject of Precepts or Commands ;
that only being capable of receiving or perceiving Com
mands. The motions or state of the body are matter of
Command, only as they are subject to the soul, and con
nected with its acts. But now the soul has no other
faculty whereby it can. in the most direct and proper sense,
consent, yield to, or comply with any Command, but the
faculty of the Will ; and it is by this "faculty only, that the
soul can directly disobey, or refuse compliance : for the
very notions of consenting, yielding, accepting, complying,
refusing, rejecting, fyc. are, according to the meaning of
trie terms, nothing but certain acts of the Will. Obedience,
expressed in the title of this section, is not professedly handled by our au
thor, either here or in any other part of the work. His professed object in
this place is to prove that obligation to obey commands is not weakened
by moral inability. But though this conclusion is established by many con
siderations, yet the nature and grounds of obligation are not pointed out,
which might afford evidence why moral obligation is consistent with moral
inability ? The subject is confessedly profound ; but, perhaps, the follow
ing series of remarks may contribute in some degree to assist our inquiries
and to bring them to a satisfactory conclusion.
1. Obligation, if we regard the term, is a binding power, or an irresistible
force ; but, in reference to morality and voluntary actions, obligation is ex
pressive of a hypothetical indispensable connexion between an antecedent
and a consequent ; or between an end proposed, and the means of obtaining
it Thus, if a moral agent would attain the end, he is obliged or bound in
dispensably, to use the required means. And, on the contrary, if a moral
agent adopt a different antecedent from what is required, not only he shall
not attain to the proposed consequent, but another consequent is to follow,
indispensably connected with the antecedent actually adopted, by a necessity
of consequence. Therefore,
2. The conseqven for the end, which is proposed by the moral Governor,
is always a supposed good ; for it would be unworthy of a governor wise and
good to propose any other, especially as the antecedent prescribed and re
quired is indispensably connected with it But if the connexion be broken
by the free agent, by the adoption of an antecedent naturally connected with
a different consequent, he then becomes naturally obliged, or forced, to
sustain a proportionable evil
_ 3. In the system of moral government, it is the prerogative of the supreme
Governor to propose the consequent of the indispensable connexion; and it
is the part of the moral agent, who in the act of choice is left free, to choose
the antecedent, which the governor has objectively furnished, and indispen
sably required. To this choice he is morally or hypothetically bound, yet
is naturally free ; and if the required choice be made, the good follows;
but if not, the corresponding evil follows. For instance; if the forgiveness
of sin be the consequent proposed, and repentance the antecedent required :
the agent is moraltybound to repent, but naturally free. If, however, he
break through the moral bond, which is done by abusing his natural free
dom, or continuing his wrong choice, forgiveness does not follow, but he
stands exposed to the natural and threatened consequence of that wrong
choice, or impenitence.
_ 4. Hence it is obvious, that in the system of Providence, and the execu
tion of all decretive designs, it is the prerogative of the Sovereign of the
universe to establish the chain of all antecedents, and the consequents fol
low from the nature of things : but in the system of moral government, it is
equally obvious, the reverse takes place ; for here the supreme Governor
proposes, and establishes objectively, the chain of consequents, while the
moral agent, or the obligee, establishes optionally the antecedents; and as
the actual choice of an antecedent is, such will be the actual consequence.
When the moral agent chooses that antecedent which is required, or wbich
is conformable to rectitude, tbe proposed consequent is obtained by the
nature of things ; but when that which is not required, or is not conformable
to rectitude, is chosen for an antecedent, the evil consequence flows from
the same nature of things, that is, from the essence of eternal truth.
5. Required antecedents are either a state of mind, or voluntary ac
tions ; according as the particular consequent proposed may be. For ex
ample, if happiness be the end or consequent proposed, holiness, or a holy
state of mind, is the mean, or antecedent required. If we would see the
Lord, we must be holy, or pure in heart, by a new birth unto righteous
ness, li justification be the end proposed, believing is a mean required.
For to us righteousness shall be imputed, if we believe. If a subsequent
favourable treatment of the obligee be the end proposed ; obedience, or
conformity to rule, is the mean required.
6. When an agent is said to be obhged in or by any thing or consideration,
that thing or consideration in or by which he is obliged, is to be considered
as the consequent proposed ; and the state or act leading to it is the antece
dent required. To be obliged in conscience, in duty, in law, in honour, &c.
expresses the end to be obtained by a certain state or conduct as the mean
or antecedent required. Thus, for instance, if conscience be satisfied, if duty
be discharged, if law be conformed to, or if honour be secured, the required
antecedent means must be adopted, or such acts must be performed.
7. If the required antecedents be not performed, it is manifest that the
free agent has voluntarily established other antecedents, and the injurious
consequents of these last flow (as before observed) from the nature of
things; which consequents will be similar or dissimilar to those proposed
by the supreme Governor, in proportion, as the antecedent established
voluntarily by the agent, is similar or dissimilar to what was required.
Hence we may see the true standard and measure of guilt, and of the dif-
ferent gradations of praise or blame.
8. rfaving considered the naturk of moral obligation, let us now advert
to the subject of it This inquiry has more immediately for its object tbe
qualifications of the moral agent, or those considerations whereby he

in the primary nature of it, is the submitting and yielding
of the Will of one, to the Will of another. Disobedience
is the not consenting, not complying of the Will of the
commanded, to the manifested Will of the commander.
Other acts that are not the acts of the Will, as certain
motions of the body and alterations in the soul, are Obe
dience or Disobedience only indirectly, as they are con
nected with the state or actions of the Will, according to
an established law of nature. So that it is manifest, the
Will itself may be required : and the being of a good Will
is the most proper, direct, and immediate subject of Com
mand; and if this cannot be prescribed or required by
Command or Precept, nothing can; for other things can
be required no otherwise than as they depend upon, and
are the fruits of a good Will.
Corol. 1. If there be several acts of the Will, or a series
of acts, one following another, and one the effect of an
other, the first and determining act is properly the subject
of Command, and not only the consequent acts, which are
dependent upon it. Yea, this more especially is that to
which Command or Precept has a proper respect ; because
it is this act that determines the whole affair : in this act
the Obedience or Disobedience lies, in a peculiar manner;
the consequent acts being all governed and determined by
stands obliged, in contradistinction to those beings in the universe that are
not moral agents. An attentive and long-continued investigation of the sub
ject has taught us, that they are included in these three particulars: (1.)
A natural capacity of moral enjoyment f2.) A sufficiency of suitable
means. And (3.) A. freedom from compulsion in the choice of means.—
Whatever being is possessed of these qualifications is morally obliged; for
he has a suitable ability to establish his own antecedents as required, in
order that the proposed consequents may follow.
9. Theirs, qualification is a natural capacity of moral enjoyments.
This belongs to no being that is not a free agent ; but to every being who
is so, it inseparably belongs. This, more than any superior degree of
reason, (however great, and however forcible the influence from that
superiority.) constitutes the chief and most essential difference between
men and brutes. That such a capacity is an indispensably requisite quali
fication, is clear. For free agency necessarily implies, a consequent moral
advantage, or a natural good to be morally enjoyed, either explicitly pro
posed by the moral Governor, or fairly implied iu the system of moral
government; but this could not be proposed if there were no capacity of
enjoyment as now stated. And this consequent advantage may properly
be called the perpetual enjoyment of God, the chief good; because the
chief end of all subordinate enjoyments, as well as of all obedience, and
the sum total of all happiness, is the conscious enjoyment of divine favour
and excellence.
10. The second qualification is a sufficiency of suitable means. This is
indispensably requisite; for to require an end while the means are out of
the agent's reach, or physically out of his power, and that under the for
feiture of the governor's displeasure, is of the very essence of injustice. But
the divine Governor is " a God of truth, and without iniquity ; just and
right is he/' And that these means ought to be sufficient and suitable in
their own nature to attain the end, in other words, that the antecedents re".
quired to be adopted by the agent, are infallibly connected with the pro
posed consequent, is equally plain, for the same reason that there should
be any means at all. For means in themselves insufficient and unsuitable
have no true connexion with the end proposed ; even as a law in itself 'bad,
has morally no obliging power.
11. The third qualification is a frkedom from constraint and compul
sion in the choice of means, or in the voluntary establishment of antece
dents. By " constraint" and " compulsion,1' we mean a physical interference
with the free agent in his act of choice, in such a sense, as that the choice
would not be the genuine effect of the motive ; or, that tbe nature of the
fruit should not correspond with the nature of the tree ; but some extra
neous force interposing would make the nature of the volition to be different
from the nature of the mind or disposition, which otherwise would be its
immediate cause.
12. Divine influence is admitted to be requisite, in order to prepare the
state of the mind for a right choice, even as a good tree is requisite for
good fruit; but this is no interference with the act of choice itself, nor has
it the least tendency to break the connexion between motive and choice, or
between the mind and its volition. — Such influence, indeed, forms one glo
rious link of the decretive chain, which the sovereign Governor has esta
blished as so many antecedents ; and a right choice, in a free agent thus
divinely influenced, or formed anew, is the unrestrained and ummpeHed
effect which follows by a necessity of consequence. In other words, no
bad choice can possibly follow, but by a failure in the cause, the mind or
disposition itself.
13. On thisprinciple it is, that the sovereign Being himself never errs in
his choice. The source from which the act of choice proceeds is perfectly
good, fan infinitely holy nature,) and the connexion between this cause and
the effect, wbich is a right choice, is infallibly and in the nature of things
necessarily secure. Hence it is that we never admit, or suspect, an error
in his choice, however great his freedom ; and hence we have a firm
ground of confidence, that the Judge of the whole earth will do right.
14. The three qualifications mentioned belong to man as a free agent;
but we must not confound this idea with that of a subject of moral govern
ment. An infant may be the subject of government, both human and
divine ; but cannot be, properly speaking, a free agent. Hence it follows
that the first of the qualifications mentioned alone is essential to constitute
a subject of moral government, in the most extensive sense of the term;
but in order to constitute that class oi subjects who are a /so free agents, the
other two are essential.
15. When these three qualifications are found in any free agent, nothing
more is requisite to constitute moral obligation. An end is proposed— meant
firmly connected with that end are afforded, and required to be used —these
means are physically in the power of the agent— who is also free from all
constraint and compulsion in his act of choice. If these qualifications are
not sufficient morally to oblige, we are fully persuaded nothing can be
sufficient— As to the notion, that moral ability is necessary to constitute
moral obligation, wbich is maintained alike by many Arminians and most
Antinomians, (for extremes will sometimes meet,) our author abundantly
demonstrates its futility and absurd contradictions. — W.

Sect. IV,

•COMMANDS CONSISTENT WITH MORAL INABILITY.

49

it. This governing act fnust be the proper object of Pre
cept, or none.
Corol. 2. It also follows, from what has been observed,
that if there be any act, or exertion of the soul, prior to all
free acts of choice in the case, directing and determining
what the acts of the Will shall be; that act of the soul
cannot properly be subject to any Comrsand or Precept,
in any respect whatsoever, either directly or indirectly,
immediately or remotely. Such acts cannot be subject to
Commands directly, because they are no acts of the Will ;
being by the supposition prior to all acts of the Will, deter
mining and giving rise to all its acts : they not being acts
Of the Will, there can be in them no consent to or com
pliance with any Command. Neither can they be subject
to Command or Precept indirectly or remotely ; for they
are not so much as the effects or consequences of the Will,
being prior to all its acts. So that if there be any Obedi
ence in that original act of the soul, determining all voli
tions, it is an act of Obedience wherein the Will has no
concern at all j it preceding every act of Will. And there
fore, if the soul either obeys or disobeys in this act, it is
wholly involuntarily ; there is no willing Obedience or
rebellion, no compliance or opposition of the Will in
the affair : and what sort of Obedience or rebellion is
this? And thus the Arminian notion of the freedom of the
Will consisting in the soul's determining its own acts of
Will, instead of being essential to moral agency, and to men
being the subjects of moral government, is utterly incon
sistent with it. For if the soul determines all its acts of
Will, it is therein subject to no Command or moral govern
ment, as has been now observed ; because its original
determining act is no act of Will or choice, it being prior,
by the supposition, to every act of Will. And the soul
cannot be the subject of Command in the act of the Will
itself, which depends on the foregoing determining act, and
is determined by it ; inasmuch as this is necessary, being
the necessary consequence and effect of that prior deter
mining act, which is not voluntary. Nor can the man be
the subject of Command or government in his external
actions ; because these are all necessary, being the neces
sary effects of the acts of the Will themselves. So that
mankind, according to this scheme, are subjects of Com
mand or moral government in nothing at all ; and all their
moral agency is entirely excluded, and no room is left for
virtue or vice in the world.
So that the Arminian scheme, and not that of the Cal
vinists, is utterly inconsistent with moral government, and
with all use of laws, precepts, prohibitions, promises, or
threatenings. Neither is there any way whatsoever to make
their principles consist with these things. For if it be said,
that there is no prior determining act of the soul, preced
ing the acts of the Will, but that volitions are events that
come to pass by pure accident, without any determining
cause, this is most palpably inconsistent with all use of
laws and precepts ; for nothing is more plain than that
laws can be of no use to direct and regulate perfect acci
dent : which, by the supposition of its being pure accident,
is in no case regulated by any thing preceding ; but hap
pens, this way or that, perfectly by chance, without any
cause or rule. The perfect uselessness of laws and pre
cepts also follows from the Arminian notion of indifference,
as essential to that liberty, which is requisite to virtue or
vice. For the end of laws is to bind to one side ; and the
end of Commands is to turn the Will one way : and there
fore they are of no use, unless they turn or bias the Will
that way. But if liberty consists in indifference, then their
biassing the Will one way only, destroys liberty ; as it puts
* Our author does. not mean by "motive," the object presented to the
mind according to its' intrinsic worth ; but he takes into the account also
the state of the mind itself, in reference to that object, according to which
will be the appearance of it. Therefore, strictly speaking, the motive, as
he has intimated at the commencement of this work, denotes the object as
it stands in the view of the mind. If we do not maintain this distinction,
the dispute will soon degenerate into a confused logomachy ; and we should
be forced, in defending this position— that the will is " necessarily deter
mined by the strongest motive" — to adopt this, the most absurd of all con
clusions, that the will of every man in the present state always chooses what
is really best, or never errs in its elections. Whereas the world is full of
errors and delusions; things the most excellent in themselves, are com-
¦monly rejected, andothersthemostworthlessarepreferred. Butthiscould
not happen, except on this principle, that the reality of worth differs, in those
instances, from the appearance of it. In such cases, the difference is not
in the object, but in the mind, when the choice takes place. For instance ;
VOL. I. E

the Will out of equilibrium. So that the will, having a bias,
through the influence of binding law, laid upon it, is not
wholly left to itself, to determine itself which way it will,
without influence from without.
II. Having shown that the Will itself, especially in those
acts which are original, leading and determining in any
case, is the proper subject of Precept and Command — and
not only those alterations in the body, &c. which are the
effects of the Will — I now proceed, in the second place, to
observe, that the very opposition or defect of the Will itself,
in its original and determining uct in the case, to a thing
proposed or commanded, or its failing of compliance, im
plies a moral inability to that thing : or, in other words,
whenever a Command requires a certain state or act of the
Will, and the person commanded, notwithstanding the
Command and the circumstances under which it is ex
hibited, still finds his Will opposite or wanting, in that,
belonging to its state or acts, which is original and deter
mining in the affair, that man is morally unable to obey
that Command.
This is manifest from what was observed in the first
part concerning the nature of moral Inability, as distin
guished from natural : where it was observed, that a man
may then be said to be morally unable to do a tiling, when
he is under the influence or prevalence of a contrary in
clination, or has a want of inclination, under such circum
stances and views. It is also evident, from what has been
before proved, that the Will is always, and in every in
dividual act, necessarily determined by the strongest
motive ; * and so is always unable to go against the
motive, which, all things considered, has now the greatest
strength and advantage to move the Will  But not further
to insist on these things, the truth of the position now laid
down, viz. that when the Will is opposite to, or failing of
a compliance with, a thing, in its original determination or
act, it is not able to comply, appears by the consideration
of these two things.
1. The Will in the time of that diverse or opposite
leading act or inclination, and when actually under its
influence, is not able to exert itself to the contrary, to make
an alteration, in order to a compliance. The inclination
is unable to change itself; and that for this plain reason,
that it is unable to incline to change itself. Present choice
cannot at present choose to be otherwise : for that would
be at present to choose something diverse from what is at
present chosen. If the Will, all things now considered,
inclines or chooses to go that way, then it cannot choose,
all things now considered, to go the other way, and so
cannot choose to be made to go the other way. To suppose
that the mind is now sincerely inclined to change itself to
a different inclination, is to suppose the mind is now truly
inclined otherwise than it is now inclined. The Will may
oppose some future remote act that it is exposed to, but
not its own present act.
2. As it is impossible that the Will should comply with
the thing commanded, with respect to its leading act, by
any act of its own, in the time of that diverse or opposite
leading and original act, or after it has actually come
under the influence of that determining choice or inclina
tion ; so it is impossible it should be determined to a
compliance by any foregoing act ; for, by the very sup
position, there is no foregoing act ; the opposite or non-
complying act being that act which is original and deter
mining in the case. Therefore it must be so, that if this
first determining act be found non-complying, on the
proposal of the command, the mind is morally unable to
obey. For to suppose it to be able to obey, is to suppose
it to be able to determine and cause its first determining
suppose the blessed God in his true character as revealed in the Scriptures,
the chief and an unchangeable good, be proposed to the contemplation of
a wicked man, and his will rejects that good. Now, as the mind is in
capable of rejecting a good, or of choosing an evil, as such ; it is plain,
that the proper and immediate cause of difference between the reality and
the appearance of good, is in the state of the mind. Here lies the essence
of an erroneous choice, — the will preferring an object which is apparently
but not really preferable. Hence it follows irrefragably, that the state of
the mind is the true and proper source of a right and wrong choice. This
is it that influences the appearance of an object, so as to stand in the ap
prehension and practical judgment of the mind as worse or better than it
really i3. Therefore, the true state of the mind and the real state of the
object of choice, united, are the genuine parents of the objective appearance
in the mind, morally considered, or according to the qualities of good and
evil; and this offspring— objective appearance— is what our author calls
" the strongest motive." — W.

50

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part III.

act to be otherwise, and that it has power better to govern
and regulate its first governing and regulating act, which
is absurd ; for it is to suppose a prior act of the Will, de
termining its first determining act ; that is, an act prior to
the first, and leading and governing the original and
governing act of all ; which is a contradiction.
Here if it should ba said, that although the mind has
not any ability to will contrary to what it does will, in the
original and leading act of the Will, because there is sup
posed to be no prior act to determine and order it otherwise,
and the Will cannot immediately change itself, because it
cannot at present incline to a change ; yet the mind has
an ability for the present to forbear to proceed to action,
and taking time for deliberation ; which may be an occasion
of the change of the inclination.
I answer, (1.) In this objection, that seems to be for
gotten which was observed before, viz. that the determining
to take the matter into consideration, is itself an act of
the Will : and if this be all the act wherein the mind
exercises ability and freedom, then this, by the supposition,
must be all that can be commanded or required by pre
cept. And if this act be the commanding act, then all
that has been observed concerning the commanding act of
the Will remains true, that the very want of it is a moral
Inability to exert it, &c. (2.) We are speaking concerning
the first and leading act of the Will about the affair; and
if determining to deliberate, or, on the contrary, to proceed
immediately without deliberating, be the first and leading
act ; or whether it be or no, if there be another act before
it, which determines that ; or whatever be the original and
leading act ; still the foregoing proof stands good, that the
non-compliance of the leading act implies moral Inability
to comply.
If it should be objected, that these things make all
moral Inability equal, and suppose men morally unable
to will otherwise than they actually do will, in all cases,
and equally so in every instance. — In answer to this ob
jection, I desire two things may be observed.
First, That if by being equally unable, be meant, as
really unable ; then, so far as the Inability is merely moral,
it is true; the Will, in every instance, acts by moral ne
cessity, and is morally unable to act otherwise, as truly
and properly in one case as another ; as, I humbly con
ceive, has been perfectly and abundantly demonstrated by
what has been said in the preceding part of this essay.
But yet, in some respect, the Inability may be said to be
greater in some instances than others : though the man
may be truly unable, (if moral Inability can truly be called
Inability,) yet he may be further from being able to do
some things than others. As it is in things, which men
are naturally unable to do. A person, whose strength is no
more than sufficient to lift the weight of one nuudred
pounds, is as truly and really unable to lift one hundred
and one pounds, as ten thousand pounds; but yet he is
further from being able to lift the latter weight than the
former; and so, according to the common use of speech,
has a greater Inability for it. So it is in moral Inability.
A man is truly morally unable to choose contrary to a
present inclination, which in the least degree prevails ;
or, contrary to that motive, which, all things considered,
has strength and advantage now to move the Will, in the
least degree, superior to all other motives in view : but
yet he is further from ability to resist a very strong habit,
and a violent and deeply rooted inclination, or a motive
vastly exceeding all others in strength. And again, the
Inability may, in some respects, be called greater in some
instances than others, as it may be more general and ex
tensive to all acts of that kind. So men may be said to be
unable in a different sense, and to be further from moral
ability, who have that moral Inability which is general
and habitual, than they who have only that Inability which
is occasional and particular.* Thus in cases of natural
Inability ; he that is born blind may be said to be unable
to see, in a different manner, and is, in some respects,
further from being able to see, than he whose sight is
hindered by a transient cloud or mist.
And besides, that which was observed in the first part of
this discourse, concerning the Inability which attends a
* Seo this distinction of moral Inability explained in Tart I. Sect. IV.

strong and settled habit, should be here remembered ; viz.
that a fixed habit is attended with this peculiar moral
Inability, by which it is distinguished from occasional vo
lition, n'amelv, that endeavours to avoid future volitions of
that kind, which are agreeable to such a habit, much more
frequently and commonly prove vain and insufficient. For
though it is impossible there should be any sincere endea
vours against a present choice, yet there may be against
volitions of that kind, when viewed at a distance. A
person may desire and use means to prevent future exer
cises of a certain inclination ; and, in order to it, may wish
the habit might be removed ; but his desires and endea
vours may be ineffectual. The man may be said in some
sense to be unable ; yea, even as the word unable is a rela
tive term, and has relation to ineffectual endeavours ; yet
not with regard to present, but remote endeavours.
Secondly, It must be borne in mind, according to what
was observed before, that indeed no Inability whatsoever,
which is merely moral, is properly called by the name of
Inability ; and that in the strictest propriety of speech, a
man may be said to have a thing in his power, if' he has it
at his election, and he cannot be said to be unable to do a
thing, when he can, if he now pleases, or whenever he has
a proper, direct, and immediate desire for it. As to those
desires and endeavours, that may be against the exercises
of a strong habit, with regard to which men may be said
to be unable to avoid those exercises, they are remote de
sires and endeavours in two respects. First, as to time;
they are never against present volitions, but only against
volitions of such a kind, when viewed at a distance.
Secondly, as to their nature ; these opposite desires are not
directly and properly against the habit and inclination it
self, or the volitions in which it is exercised ; for these, in
themselves considered, are agreeable : but against some--
thing else that attends them, or is their consequence ; the
opposition of the mind is levelled entirely against this ; the
volitions themselves are not at all opposed directly, and for
their own sake ; but only indirectly and remotely, on the
account of something foreign.
III. Though the opposition of the Will itself, or the
very want of Will to a thing commanded, implies a moral
Inability to that thing ; yet, if it be, as has been already
shown, that the being of a good state or act of Will, is a
thing most properly required by Command ; then, in some
cases, such a state or act of Will may properly be required,
which at present is not, and which may also be wanting
after it is commanded. And therefore those things may
properly be commanded, for which men have a moral
Inability. Such a state or act of the Will, may be required by
Command, as does not already exist. For if that volition
only may be commanded to be, which already is, there
could be no use of precept : Commands in all cases
would be perfectly vain and impertinent. And not only
may such a Will be required, as is wanting before the
Command is given, but also such as may possibly be
wanting afterwards ; such as the exhibition of the Com
mand may not be effectual to produce or excite. Other
wise, no such thing as disobedience to a proper and right
ful Command is possible in any case ; and there is no •
case possible, wherein there can be a faulty disobedience.
Which Arminians cannot affirm, consistently with their
principle : for this makes obedience to just and proper
Commands always necessary, and disobedience impossi
ble. And so the Arminian would overthrow himself,
yielding the very point we are upon, which he so strenu
ously denies, viz. that Law and Command are consistent
with necessity.
If merely that Inability will excuse disobedience, which
is implied in the opposition or defect of inclination, remain
ing after the Command is exhibited, then wickedness
always carries that in it which excuses it. By how much
the more wickedness there is in a man's heart, by so much
is his inclination to evil the stronger, and by so much the
more, therefore, has he of moral Inability to the good re
quired. His moral Inability consisting in the strength of
his evil inclination, is the very thing wherein his wicked
ness consists ; and yet, according to Arminian principles,

Sect. IV.

COMMANDS CONSISTENT WITH MORAL INABILITY.

51

it must be a thing inconsistent with wickedness ; and by
how much the more he has of it, by so much is he the fur
ther from wickedness.
Therefore, on the whole, it is manifest, that moral Ina
bility alone (which consists in disinclination) never ren
ders any thing improperly the subject matter of Precept
or Command, and never can excuse any person in disobe
dience, or want of conformity to a command.
Natural Inability, arising from the want of natural capa
city, or external hinderance, (which alone is properly called
Inability,) without doubt wholly excuses, or makes a thing
improperly the matter of Command. If men are excused
from doing or acting any good thing, supposed to be com
manded, it must be through some defect or obstacle that is
not in the Will itself, but either in the capacity of under
standing, or body, or outward circumstances. — Here two
or three things may be observed,
1. As to spiritual acts, or any good thing in the state or
imminent acts of the Will itself, or of the affections, (which
are only certain modes of the exercise of the Will,) if persons
are justly excused, it must be through want of capacity in
the natural ¦ faculty of understanding. Thus the same
spiritual duties, or holy affections and exercises of heart,
cannot be required of men, as may be of angels ; the ca
pacity of understanding being so much inferior. So men
cannot be required to love those amiable persons, whom
they have had no opportunity to see, or hear of, or know
in any way agreeable to the natural state and capacity of
the human understanding. But the insufficiency of mo
tives will not excuse ; unless their being insufficient
arises not from the moral state of the Will or inclination it
self, but from the state of the natural understanding. The
great kindness and generosity of another may be a motive
insufficient to excite gratitude in the person that receives
the kindness, through his vile and ungrateful temper : in
this case, the insufficiency of the motive arises from the
state of the Will or inclination of heart, and does not at all
excuse. But if this generosity is not sufficient to excite
gratitude, being unknown, there being no means of in
formation adequate to the state and measure of the person's
faculties, this insufficiency is attended with a natural Ina
bility, which entirely excuses it.
2. As to such motions of body, or exercises and altera
tions of mind, which do not consist in the imminent acts or
state of the Will itself— but are supposed to be required as
effects of the Will, in cases wherein there is no want of a
capacity of understanding — that Inability, and that only,
excuses, which consists in want of connexion between
them and the Will. If the Will fully complies, and the
proposed effect does not prove, according to the laws of
nature, to be connected with his volition, the man is per
fectly excused ; he has a natural Inability to the thing re
quired. For the Will itself, as has been observed, is all
that can be directly and immediately required by Com
mand ; and other things only indirectly, as connected with
the Will. If therefore, there be a full compliance of Will,
the person has done his duty ; and if other things do not
prove to be connected with his volition, that is not crimi
nally owing to him.
3. Both these kinds of natural Inability, and all Ina
bility that excuses, may be resolved into one thing ; namely,
want of natural capacity or strength ; either capacity of un
derstanding, or external strength. For when there are ex
ternal defects and obstacles, they would be no obstacles,
* On the subject of Sincerity or Insincerity in prohibitions, commands,
counsels, invitations, and the like, in cases where God foreknows that the
event will not take place by the compliance of the moral agent addressed,
we may remark a few particulars in addition to our author's reasoning ;
1. The sincerity of prohibitions and commands, counsels and invitations,
and the like, is founded — not in the event of things as good or bad, or the
knowledge of events, or the purpose that secures some, or the necessity of
consequence from which others flow, nor in the moral ability of the agent,
but — in the very nature and tendency of the things themselves which are
prohibited, commanded, or proposed, as good or evil, either intrinsically,
if of a moral nature, or else relatively, if of positive appointment
Therefore. 2. Whether the event be compliance or non-compliance, the command,
or invitation, &c. is perfectly sincere. For, in truth, these are neither more
nor less than testimonies respecting the goodness or badnessof the things in
question, in the sense before mentioned, and the consequent obligations of
the agent respecting them, under a forfeiture either declared or implied.
Consequently, 31 Insincerity can attach to a command only on supposition that the
goodness or badness of the event were the ground of the signified will, while
at tho same time another event, diverse from that which actually takes
place, was purposed by the same will. But,
E 2

were it not for the imperfection and limitations of under-.
standing and strength.
Corol. If things for which men have a moral Inability
may properly be the matter of Precept or Command, then
they may also of invitation and counsel. Commands and
invitations come very much to the same thing ; the differ
ence is only circumstantial : Commands are as much a
manifestation of the Will of him that speaks, as invita
tions, and as much testimonies of expectation of compli
ance. The difference between them lies in nothing that
touches the affair in hand. The main difference between
Command and invitation consists in the enforcement of the
Will of him who commands or invites. In the latter it is his
kindness, the goodness from which his Will arises : in the
former it is his authority. But whatever be the ground of
Will in him that speaks, or the enforcement of what he says,
yet, seeing neither his Will, nor his expectation, is any
more testified in the one case than the other ; therefore, a
person being directed by invitation, is no more an evi
dence of insincerity in him that directs — in manifesting
either a Will or expectation which he has not — than a per
son being known to be morally unable to do what he is di
rected by command is an evidence of insincerity. So that
all this grand objection of Arminians against the Inability
of fallen men to exert faith in Christ, or to perform other
spiritual duties, from the sincerity of God's counsels and
invitations, must be without force.*

SECT. V.
That Sincerity of Desires and Endeavours, which is sup
posed to excuse in the non-performance of things in
themselves good, particularly considered.
It is much insisted on by many, that some men, though
they are not able to perform spiritual duties, such as re
pentance of sin, love to God, a cordial acceptance of Christ
as exhibited and offered in the gospel, &.c. yet may sincerely
desire and endeavour after these things ; and therefore must
be excused ; it being unreasonable to blame them for the
omission of those things, which they sincerely desire and
endeavour to do, but cannot. Concerning this matter, the
following things may be observed.
1. What is here supposed, is a great mistake, and gross
absurdity ; even that men may sincerely choose and desire
those spiritual duties of love, acceptance, choice, rejection,
&c. consisting in the exercise of the Will itself, or in the
disposition and inclination of the heart ; and yet not able
to perform or exert them. This is absurd, because it is
absurd to suppose that a man should directly, properly, and
sincerely incline to have an inclination, which at the same
time is contrary to his inclination : for that is to suppose
him not to be inclined to that which he is inclined to. If
a man, in the state and acts of his Will and inclination,
properly and directly falls in with those duties, he therein
performs them : for the duties themselves consist in that
very thing ; they consist in the state and acts of the Will
being so formed and directed. If the soul properly and
sincerely falls in with a certain proposed act of Will or
choice, the soul therein makes that choice its own5'"Even
as when a moving body falls in with a proposed direction
of its motion, that is the same thing as to move in that
direction. 4. Strictly speaking, no events, as such, are the objects of purpose ; but
rather, the purpose respects the good antecedents, whereby good events,
following by necessity of consequence, are infallibly secured. Besides,
5. It is highly absurd, as must appear from the nature of law and obliga
tion, to suppose that the sincerity of legislative or inviting will should de
pend on the event of compliance or non-compliance. Surely the sincerity
of a lawgiver is not affected, whether all obey, or only some, or even none.
Legislation is a testimony with sanctions, that the thing prohibited is evil,
or the thing commanded is good, to the party. Hence,
6. The consequent, whether good or bad, is objectively established, or
hypothetically proposed, by the legislator : and the antecedent is supposed
to be within the reach, or, physically considered, placed within the power,
of the agent Therefore,
7. The agent's abuse of his physical power, in reference to the antece
dent, constitutes the criminality, and the right use of it constitutes the
virtue, of an action. And then alone is physical power, in fact, used aright
when it is the instrument of moral rectitude, or a right state of mind. Do
men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ? Even so, every good tree
briugeth forth good fruit ; but a corrupt tree bringefh forth evil fruit. A
good tree (as such) cannot bring forth evil fruit ; neither can a corrupt tree
(as such) bring forth good fruit — W.

5_

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part III.

2. That which is called a Desire and Willingness for those
inward duties, in such as do not perform them, has respect
to these duties only indirectly and remotely, and is im
properly so called ; not only because (as was observed be
fore) it respects those good volitions only in a distant view,
and with respect to future time ; but also because ever
more, not these things themselves, but something else that
is foreign, is the object that terminates these volitions and
Desires. A drunkard, who continues in his drunkenness, being
under the power of a violent appetite to strong drink, and
without any love to virtue ; but being also extremely
covetous and close, and very much exercised and grieved
at the diminution of his estate, and prospect of poverty,
may in a sort desire the virtue of temperance ; and though
his present Will is to gratify his extravagant appetite, yet
he may wish he had a heart to forbear future acts of in
temperance, and forsake his excesses, through an unwill
ingness to part with his money : but still he goes on with
his drunkenness ; his wishes and endeavours are insuffi
cient and ineffectual : such a man has no proper, direct,
sincere Willingness to forsake this vice, and tne vicious
deeds which belong to it ; for he acts voluntarily in con
tinuing to drink to excess : his Desire is very improperly
called a Willingness to be temperate ; it is no true Desire of
that virtue ; for it is not that virtue, that terminates his
wishes ; nor have they any direct respect at all to it. It is
only the saving of his money, or the avoiding of poverty,
that terminates and exhausts the whole strength of his De
sire. The virtue of temperance is regarded only very in
directly and improperly, even as a necessary means of gra
tifying the vice of covetousness.
So, a man of an exceedingly corrupt and wicked heart,
who has no love to God and Jesus Christ, but, on the con
trary, being very profanely and carnally inclined, has the
greatest distaste of the things of religion, and enmity against
them ; yet being of a family, that, from one generation to
another, have most of them died, in youth, of an here
ditary consumption ; and so having little hope of living
long ; and having been instructed in the necessity of a
supreme love to Christ, and gratitude for his death and
sufferings, in order to his salvation from eternal misery ; if
under these circumstances he should, through fear of eter
nal torments, wish he had such a disposition ; but his pro
fane and carnal heart remaining, he continues still in his
habitual distaste of, and enmity to God and religion, and
wholly without any exercise of that love and gratitude, (as
doubtless the very devils themselves, notwithstanding all
the devilishness of their temper, would wish for a holy
heart, if by that means they could get out of hell :) in this
case, there is no sincere Willingness to love Christ and
choose him as his chief good : these holy dispositions and
exercises are not at all the direct object of the Will : they
truly share no part of the inclination or desire of the soul ;
but all is terminated on deliverance from torment : and
these graces and pious volitions, notwithstanding this
forced consent, are looked upon as in themselves unde
sirable ; as when a sick man desires a dose he greatly
abhors, in order to save his life. From these things it
appears, 3. That this indirect Willingness is not that exercise of
the Will which the command requires ; but is entirely a
different one ; being a volition of a different nature, and
terminated altogether on different objects ; wholly falling
short of that virtue of Will, to which the command has
respect. 4. This other volition, which has only some indirect
concern with the duty required, cannot excuse for the want
of that good will itself, which is commanded ; being not
the thing which answers and fulfils the command, and
being wholly destitute of the virtue which the command
seeks. Further to illustrate this matter. If a child has a most
excellent father that has ever treated him with fatherly
kindness and tenderness, and has every way, in the highest
degree, merited his love and dutiful regard, and is withal
very wealthy ; but the son is of so vile a disposition, that
he inveterately hates his father; and yet, apprehending
that his hatred of him is like to prove his ruin, by bringing
him finally to those abject circumstances, which are ex

ceedingly adverse to his avarice and ambition ; he, there
fore, wishes it were otherwise : but yet remaining under
the invincible power of his vile and malignant disposition,
he continues still in his settled hatred of his father. Now,
if such a son's indirect Willingness to love and honour his
father, at all acquits or excuses before God, for his lading
of actually exercising these dispositions towards him,
which God requires, it must be on one of these accounts.
(1.) Either, That it answers and fulfils the command.
But this it does not by the supposition ; because the thing
commanded is love and honour to his worthy parent. If
the command be proper and just, as is supposed, then it
obliges to the thing commanded ; and so nothing else but
that can answer the obligation. Or, (2.) It must be at
least, because there is that virtue or goodness in his in
direct Willingness, that is equivalent to the virtue required;
and so balances or countervails it, and makes up for the
want of it. But that also is contrary to the supposition.
The Willingness the son has merely from a regard to money
and honour, has no goodness in it, to countervail the want
of the pious filial respect required.
Sincerity and reality, in that indirect Willingness, which
has been spoken of, does not make it the better. That
which is real and hearty is often called sincere ; whether
it be in virtue or vice. Some persons are sincerely bad;
others are sincerely good; and others may be sincere and
hearty in things, which are in their own nature indifferent ;
as a man may be sincerely desirous of eating when he is
hungry. But being sincere, hearty, and in good earnest,
is no virtue, unless it be in a thing that is virtuous. A
man may be sincere and hearty in joining a crew of pirates,
or a gang of robbers. When the devils cried out, and
besought Christ not to torment them, it was no mere pre
tence ; they were very hearty in their desires not to be tor
mented : but this did not make their Will or Desire vir
tuous. And if men have sincere Desires, which are in
their kind and nature no better, it can be no excuse for
the want of any required virtue.
And as a man's Sincerity in such an indirect Desire or
willingness to do his duty, as has been mentioned, cannot
excuse for the want of performance ; so it is with Endea
vours arising from such a Willingness. The Endeavours
can have no more goodness in them, than the Will of which
they are the effect and expression. And, therefore,, how
ever sincere and real, and however great a person's En
deavours are ; yea, though they should be to the. utmost
of his ability ; unless the Will from which they proceed
be truly good and virtuous, they can be of no avail or
weight whatsoever in a moral respect. That which is not
truly virtuous is, in God's sight, good for nothing: and so
can be of no value, or influence, in his account, to makeup
for any moral defect. For nothing can counterbalance evil,
but good. If evil be in one scale, and we put a great deai
into the other of sincere and earnest Desires, and many and
great Endeavours ; yet, if there be no real goodness in all,
there is no weight in it ; and so it does nothing towards
balancing the real weight, which is in the opposite scale.
It is only like substracting a thousand noughts from
before a real number, which leaves the sum just as it was.
Indeed such Endeavours may have a negatively good
influence. Those things, which have no positive virtue,
have no positive mora, influence ; yet they may be an
occasion of persons avoiding some positive evils. As if a
man were in the water with a neighbour to whom he had
ill will, and who could not swim, holding him by his hand ;
this neighbour was much in debt to him, — the man is
tempted to let him sink and drown — but refuses to comply
with the temptation ; not from love to his neighbour, but
from the love of money, and because by his drowning he
should lose his debt ; that which he does in preserving his
neighbour from drowning, is nothing good in the sight of
God : yet hereby he avoids the greater guilt that would
have been contracted, if he had designedly let his neigh
bour sink and perish. But when Arminians, in their dis
putes with Calvinists, insist so much on sincere Desires
and Endeavours, as what must excuse men, must be ac
cepted of God, &c. it is manifest they have respect to some
positive moral weight or influence "of those Desires and
Endeavours. Accepting, justifying, or excusing on the
account of sincere Endeavours, (as they are called,) and

Sect. V.

SINCERITY OF DESIRES AND ENDEAVOURS.

53

men doing what they can, &c. has relation to some moral
value, something that is accepted as good, and as such,
countervailing some defect.
But there is a great and unknown deceit, arising from
the'ambiguity of the phrase, sincere Endeavours. Indeed
there is a vast indistinctness and unfixedness in most, or
at least very many of the terms used to express things
pertaining to moral and spiritual matters. Whence arise
innumerable mistakes, strong prejudices, inextricable con
fusion, and endless controversy. — The word sincere is most
commonly used to signify something that is good : men are
habituated to understand by it the same as honest and up
right ; which terms excite an idea of something good in
the strictest and highest sense ; good in the sight of him,
who sees not only the outward appearance, but the heart.
And, therefore, men think that if a person be sincere, he
will certainly be accepted. If it be said that any one is
sincere in his Endeavours, this suggests, that his heart is
good, that there is no defect of duty, as to virtuous incli
nation ; he honestly and uprightly desires and endeavours to
do as he is required ; and this leads them to suppose, that it
would be very hard and unreasonable to punish him, only
because he is unsuccessful in his Endeavours, the thing
endeavoured after being beyond his power. — Whereas it
ought to be observed, that the word sincere has these differ
ent significations.
1. Sincerity, as the word is sometimes used, signifies no
more than reality of Will and Endeavour, with respect to
any thing that is professed or pretended ; without any
consideration of the nature of the principle or air_7 whence
this real Will and true Endeavour arises. If a man has
some real Desire either direct or indirect to obtain a thing,
or does really endeavour after it, he is said sincerely to de
sire or endeavour, without any consideration of the goodness
of the principle from which he acts, or any excellency or
worthiness of the end for which he acts. Thus a man who
is kind to his neighbour's wife, who is sick and languish
ing, and very helpful in her case, makes a show of desiring
and endeavouring her restoration to health and vigour ; and
not only makes such a show, but there is a reality in his
Eretence, he does heartily and earnestly desire to have her
ealth restored, and uses his true and utmost Endeavours
for it : he is said sincerely to desire and endeavour after it,
because he does so truly or really ; though perhaps the
principle he acts from, is no other than a vile and scandal
ous passion ; having lived in adultery with her, he earnestly
desires to have her health and vigour restored, that he may
return to his criminal pleasures. Or,
2. By Sincerity is meant, not merely a reality of Will
and Endeavour of some sort, and from some consideration
or other, but a virtuous Sincerity. That is, that in the per
formance of those particular acts, that are the matter of
virtue or duty, there be not only the matter, but the form
and essence 6f virtue, consisting in the aim that governs
the act, and the principle exercised in it. There is not only
the reality of the act, that is as it were the body of the duty ;
but also the soul, which should properly belong to such a
body. In this sense, a man is said to be sincere, when he
acts with a pure intention ; not from sinister views : he not
only in reality desires and seeks the thing to be done, or
qualification to be obtained, for some end or other ; but he
wills the thing directly and properly, as neither forced nor
bribed ; the virtue of the thing is properly the object of the
In the former sense, a man is said to be sincere, in op
position to a mere pretence, and show of the particular
thing to be done or exhibited, without any real Desire or
Endeavour at all. In the latter sense, a man is said to be
sincere, in opposition to that show of virtue there is in
merely doing the matter of duty, without the reality of the
virtue itself in the soul. A man may be sincere in the
former sense, and yet in the latter be in the sight of God,
who searches the heart, a vile hypocrite. .
In the latter kind of sincerity, only, is there any thing
truly valuable or acceptable in the sight of God. And
this is what in Scripture is called Sincerity, uprightness,
integrity, "truth in the inward parts," and "being of a
perfect heart." And if there be such a Sincerity, and such
a degree of it as there ought to be, and there be any thing
further that the man is not able to perform, or which does

not prove to be connected with his sincere Desires and
Endeavours, the man is wholly excused and acquitted in
the sight of God ; his Will shall surely be accepted for his
deed : and such a sincere Will and Endeavour is all that
in strictness is required of him, by any command of God.
But as to the other kind of Sincerity of Desires and En
deavours, having no virtue in it, (as was observed before,)
it can be of no avail before God, in any case, to recom
mend, satisfy, or excuse, and has no positive moral weight
or influence whatsoever.
Corol. 1 . Hence it may be inferred, that nothing in the
reason and nature of things appears from the consideration
of any moral weight in the former kind of Sincerity,
leading us to suppose, that God has made any positive
promises of salvation, or grace, or any saving assistance,
or any spiritual benefit whatsoever, to any Desires, prayers,
Endeavours, striving, or obedience of those, who hitherto
have no true virtue or holiness in their hearts ; though we
should suppose all the Sincerity, and the utmost degree
of Endeavour, that is possible to be in a person without
holiness. Some object against God requiring, as the condition of
salvation, those holy exercises, which are the result of a
supernatural renovation; such as a supreme respect to
Christ, love to God, loving holiness for its own sake, &c.
that these inward dispositions and exercises are above
men's power, as they are by nature ; and therefore that we
may conclude, that when men are brought to be sincere in
their Endeavours, and do as well as they can, they are
accepted ; and that this must be all that God requires, in
order to their being received as the objects of his favour,
and must be what God has appointed as the condition of
salvation. Concerning this, I would observe, that in such,
manner of speaking as "men being accepted because they
are sincere, and do as well as they can," there is evidently
a supposition of some virtue, some degree of that which
is truly good ; though it does not go so far as were to be
wished. For if men do what they can, unless their so
doing be from some good principle, disposition, or exercise
of heart, some virtuous inclination or act of the Will ;
their so doing what they can, is in some respect not a
whit better than if they did nothing at all. In such a
case, there is no more positive moral goodness in a man
doing what he can, than in a windmill doing what it can;
because the action does no more proceed from virtue l
and there is nothing in such Sincerity of Endeavour, or
doing what we can, that should render it any more a fit
recommendation to positive favour and acceptance, or the
condition of any reward or actual benefit, than doing no
thing ; for both the one and the other are alike nothing, as
to any true moral weight or value.
Corol. 2. Hence also it follows, there is nothing that
appears in the reason and nature of things, which can
justly lead us to determine, that God will certainly give
the necessary means of salvation, or some way or other
bestow true holiness and eternal life on those heathens,
who are sincere (in the sense above explained) in their
Endeavours to find out the Will of the Deity, and to
please him, according to their light, that they may escape
his future displeasure and wrath, and obtain happiness in
the future state, through his favour.

SECT. VI.
Liberty of Indifference, not only not necessary to Virtue,
but utterly inconsistent with it ; and all, either virtuous
or vicious habits or inclinations, inconsistent with Ar
minian notions of Liberty and moral Agency.
. To suppose such a freedom of Will, as Arminians talk
of, to be requisite to Virtue and Vice, is many ways con
trary to common sense.
If Indifference belong to Liberty of Will, as Arminians
suppose, and it be essential to a virtuous action, that it be
performed in a state of Liberty, as they also suppose ; it
will follow, that it is essential to a virtuous action, that it
be performed in a state of Indifference : and if it be per
formed in a state of Indifference, then doubtless it must be
performed in the time of Indifference. And so it will fol-

54

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part III.

low, that in order to the Virtue of an act, the heart must
be indifferent in the time of the performance of that act,
and the more indifferent and cold the heart is with relation
to the act performed, so much the better; because the act
is performed with so much the greater Liberty. But is
this agreeable to the light of nature ? Is it agreeable to the
notions which mankind in all ages have of Virtue, that it
lies in what is contrary to Indifference, even in the ten
dency and inclination of the heart to virtuous action ;
and that the stronger the inclination, and so the further
from Indifference, the more virtuous the heart, and so
much the more praiseworthy the act which proceeds
from it ?
If we should suppose (contrary to what has been before
demonstrated) that there may be an act of Will in a state of
Indifference ; for instance, this act, viz. The Will deter
mining to put itself out of a state of Indifference, and to
give itself a preponderation one way ; then it would follow,
on Arminian principles, that this act or determination of
the Will is that alone wherein Virtue consists, because this
only is performed, while the mind remains in a state of
Indifference, and so in a state of Liberty : for when once
the mind is put out of its equilibrium, it is no longer in
such a state ; and therefore all the acts, which follow after
wards, proceeding from bias, can have the nature neither
of Virtue nor Vice. Or if the thing which the Will can
do, while yet in a state of Indifference, and so of Liberty,
be only to suspend acting, and determine to take the mat
ter into consideration ; then this determination is that
alone wherein Virtue consists, and not proceeding to action
after the scale is turned by consideration. So that it will
follow, from these principles, that whatever is done after
the mind, by any means, is once out of its equilibrium,
and arises from an inclination, has nothing of the nature of
Virtue or Vice, and is worthy of neither blame nor praise.
But how plainly contrary is this to the universal sense of
mankind, and to the notion they have of sincerely vir
tuous actions ! Which is, that they proceed from a heart
well disposed and well inclined ; and the stronger, the more
fixed and determined, the good disposition of the heart, the
greater the sincerity of Virtue, and so the more of its truth
and reality. But if there be any acts, which are done in a
state of equilibrium, or spring immediately from perfect
Indifference and coldness of heart, they cannot arise from
any good principle or disposition in the heart ; and, con
sequently, according to common sense, have no sincere
goodness in them, having no Virtue of heart in them. To
have a virtuous heart, is to have a heart that favours Virtue,
and is friendly to it, and not one perfectly cold and indif
ferent about it.
And besides, the actions that are done in a state of In
difference, or that arise immediately out of such a state,
cannot be virtuous, because, by the supposition, thev are
not determined by any preceding choice. For if there be
preceding choice, then choice intervenes between the act
and the state of Indifference ; which is contrary to the
supposition of the act arising immediately out of Indiffer
ence. But those acts which are not determined by pre
ceding choice, cannot be virtuous or vicious, by Arminian
principles, because they are not determined by the Will.
So that neither one way, nor the other, can any actions be
virtuous or vicious, according to those principles. If the
action be determined by a preceding act of choice, it cannot
be virtuous ; because the action is not done in a state of
Indifference, nor does immediately arise from such a state ;
and so is not done in a state of Liberty. If the action be
not determined by a preceding act of choice, then it cannot
be virtuous ; because then the Will is not self-determined
in it. So that it is made certain, that neither Virtue nor
Vice can ever find any place in the universe !
Moreover, that it is necessary to a virtuous action that
it be performed in a state of Indifference, under a notion
of that being a state of Liberty, is contrary to common
sense; as it is a dictate of common sense, that Indiffer
ence itself, in many cases, is vicious, and so to a high de
gree. As if when I see my neighbour or near friend, and
one who has in the highest degree merited of me, in ex
treme distress, and ready to perish, I find an Indifference
in my heart with respect to any thing proposed to be done,
which I can easily do, for his relief. So if it should be

proposed to me to blaspheme God, or kill my father, or
do numberless other things, which might be mentioned ;
the being indifferent, for a moment, would be highly
vicious and vile.
And it may be further observed, that to suppose this
Liberty of Indifference is essential to Virtue and Vice, de
stroys the great difference of degrees of the guilt of dif
ferent crimes, and takes away the heinousness of the most
flagitious, horrid iniquities ;' such as adultery, bestiality,
murder, perjury, blasphemy, &c. For, according to these
principles, there is no harm at all in having the mind in a
state of perfect Indifference with respect to these crimes ;
nay, it is absolutely necessary in order to any Virtue in
avoiding them, or Vice in doing them. But for the mind
to be in a state of Indifference with respect to them, is to
be next door to doing them : it is then infinitely near to
choosing, and so committing the fact : for equilibrium is
the next step to a degree of preponderation ; and one,
even the least degree of preponderation (all things consi
dered) is choice. And not only so, but for the Will to be
in a state of perfect equilibrium with respect to such
crimes, is for the mind to be in such a state, as to be full
as likely to choose them as to refuse them, to do them as
to omit them. And if our minds must be in such a state,
wherein it is as near to choosing as refusing, and wherein
it must of necessity, according to the nature of things, be
as likely to commit them, as to refrain from them ; where
is the exceeding heinousness of choosing and committing
them ? If there be no harm in often being in such a state,
wherein the probability of doing and forbearing are exactly
equal, there being an equilibrium, and no more tendency
to one than the other ; then, according to the nature and
laws of such a contingence, it may be expected, as an in
evitable consequence of such a disposition of things, that
we should choose them as often as reject them : that it
should generally so fall out is necessary, as equality in the
effect is the natural consequence of the equal tendency of
the cause, or of the antecedent state of things from which
the effect arises. Why then should we be so exceedingly
to blame, if it does so fall out?
It is many ways apparent, that the Arminian scheme of
Liberty is utterly inconsistent with the being of any such
things as either virtuous or vicious habits or dispositions.
If Liberty of Indifference be essential to moral Agency,
then there can be no Virtue in any habitual inclinations
of the heart ; which are contrary to Indifference, and im
ply in their nature the very destruction and exclusion of
it. They suppose nothing can be virtuous in which no
Liberty is exercised ; but how absurd is it to talk of exer
cising Indifference under bias and preponderation !
And if self-determining power in the Will be necessary
to moral Agency, praise, rilame, &c. then nothing done by
the Will can be any further praiseworthy or blamewor
thy, than so far as the Will is moved, swayed, and deter
mined by itself, and the scales turned bv the sovereign
power the Will has over itself. And therefore the Will
must not be out of its balance, preponderation must not
be determined and effected before-hand ; and so the self-
determining act anticipated. Thus it appears another
way, that habitual bias is inconsistent with that Liberty,
which Arminians suppose to be necessary to Virtue or
Vice ; and so it follows, that habitual bias itself cannot be
either virtuous or vicious.
The same thing follows from their doctrine concerning
the Inconsistence of Necessity with Liberty, praise, dis
praise, &c. None will deny, that bias and inclination
may be so strong as to be invincible, and leave no possi
bility of the Will determining contrary to it; and so be
attended with Necessity. This Dr. Whitby allows con
cerning the Will of God, angels, and glorified saints, with
respect to good ; and the Will of devils, with respect to
evil. Therefore, if Necessity be inconsistent with Liberty ;
then, when fixed inclination is to such a degree of strength,
it utterly excludes all Virtue, Vice, praise, or blame. And,
if so, then the nearer habits are to this strength, the more
do they impede Liberty, and so diminish praise and
blame. If very strong habits destroy Liberty, the lesser
ones proportionably hinder it, according to their decree of
strength. And therefore it will follow, that then is the act
most virtuous or vicious, when performed without any in-

Sect. VI.

INDIFFERENCE INCONSISTENT WITH VIRTUE.

55

clirration or habitual bias at all ; because it is then per
formed with most Liberty.
Every prepossessing fixed bias on the mind brings a
degree of moral inability for the contrary; because so far
as the mind is biassed and prepossessed, so much hinder
ance is there of the contrary. And therefore if moral
inability be inconsistent with moral Agency, or the nature
of Virtue and Vice, then, so far as there is any such thing
as evil disposition of heart, or habitual depravity of incli
nation ; whether covetousness, pride, malice, cruelty, or
whatever else ; so much the more excusable persons are ;
so much the less have their evil acts of this kind the nature
of Vice. And on the contrary, whatever excellent dispo
sitions and inclinations they have, so much are they the
less virtuous.
It is evident, that no habitual disposition of heart can
be in any degree virtuous or vicious, or the actions which
proceed from them at all praiseworthy or blameworthy.
Because, though we should suppose the habit not to be of
such strength, as wholly to take away all moral ability and
self-determining power ; or may be partly from bias, and in
part from self-determination ; yet in this case, all that is
from antecedent bias must be set aside, as of no consi
deration ; and in estimating the degree of Virtue or Vice,
no more must be considered than what arises from self-
determining power, without any influence of that bias, be
cause Liberty is exercised in no more : so that all that is
the exercise of habitual inclination is thrown away, as not
belonging to the morality of the action. By which it
appears, that no exercise of these habits, let them be
stronger or weaker, can ever have any thing of the nature
of either Virtue or Vice.
Here if any one should say, that notwithstanding all
these things, there may be the nature of Virtue and Vice
in the habits of the mind ; because these habits may be
the effects of those acts, wherein the mind exercised Li
berty ; that however the forementioned reasons will prove
that no habits, which are natural, or that are born or cre
ated with us, can be either virtuous or vicious ; yet they
will not prove this of habits, which have been acquired and
established by repeated free acts.
To such an objector I would say, that this evasion will
not at all help the matter. For if freedom of Will be essential
to the very nature of Virtue and Vice, then there is no
Virtue or Vice but only in that very thing, wherein this
Liberty is exercised. If a man in one or more things, that
he does, exercises Liberty, and then by those acts is brought
into such circumstances, that his Liberty ceases, and there
follows a long series of acts or events that come to pass
necessarily ; those consequent acts are not virtuous or
vicious, rewardable or punishable ; but only the free acts
that established this necessity ; for in them alone was the
man free. The following effects, that are necessary, have
no more of the nature of Virtue or Vice, than health or
sickness of body have properly the nature of Virtue or
Vice, being the effects of a course of free acts of temper
ance or intemperance ; or than the good qualities of a clock
are of the nature of Virtue, which are the effects of free
acts of the artificer; or the goodness and sweetness of the
fruits of a garden are moral Virtues, being the effects of
the free and faithful acts of the gardener. If Liberty be
absolutely requisite to the morality of actions, and necessity
wholly inconsistent with it, as Arminians greatly insist ;
then no nccessari/ effects whatsoever, let the cause he never
so good or bad, can be virtuous or vicious ; but the Virtue
or Vice must be only in the free cause. Agreeably to this,
Dr. Whitby supposes, the necessity that attends the good
and evil habits of the saints in heaven, and damned in
hell, which are the consequence of their free acts in their
state of probation, are not rewardable or punishable. ;:
On the whole, it appears, that if the notions of Arminians
concerning Liberty and moral Agency be true, it will follow,
that there is no virtue in any such habits or qualities as
humility, meekness, patience, mercy, gratitude, generosity,
heavenly-mindedness ; nothing at ail praiseworthy in loving
Christ above father and mother, wife and children, or our
own lives ; or in delight in holiness, hungering and thirst
ing after righteousness, love to enemies, universal benevo
lence to mankind : and, on the other hand, there is nothing
at all vicious, or worthy of dispraise, in the most sordid,

"beastly, malignant, devilish dispositions ; in being ungrate
ful, profane, habitually hating God, and things sacred and
holy ; or in being most treacherous, envious, and cruel to
wards men. For all these things are dispositions and in
clinations of the heart. And in short, there is no such
thing as any virtuous or vicious quality of mind ; no such
thing as inherent virtue and holiness, or vice and sin : and
the stronger those habits or dispositions are, which used
to be called virtuous and vicious, the further they are from
being so indeed ; the more violent men's lusts are, the
more fixed their pride, envy, ingratitude, and maliciousness,
still the further are they from being blameworthy. If there
be a man that by his own repeated acts, or by any other
means, is come to be of the most hellish disposition,
desperately inclined to treat his neighbours with injurious-
ness, contempt, and malignity ; the further they should be
from any disposition to be angry with him, or in the least
to blame him. So, on the other hand, if there be a person,
who is of a most excellent spirit, strongly inclining him to
the most amiable actions, admirably meek, benevolent, &x.
so much is he further from any thing rewardable or com
mendable. On which principles, the man Jesus Christ was
very far from being praiseworthy for those acts of holiness
and kindness which he performed, these propensities being
strong in his heart. And above all, the infinitely holy and
gracious God is infinitely remote from any thing commend
able, his good inclinations being infinitely strong, and he,
therefore, at the utmost possible distance from being at
Liberty. And in all cases, the stronger the inclinations of
any are to Virtue, and the more they love it, the less vir
tuous, and the more they love wickedness, the less vicious
they are.  Whether these things are agreeable to Scrip
ture, let every Christian, and every man who has read the
Bible, judge : and whether they are agreeable to common
sense, let every one judge, that has human understanding in
exercise. And, if we pursue these principles, we shall find that
Virtue and Vice are wholly excluded out of the world ; and
that there never was, nor ever can be, any such thing as one
or the other; either in God, angels, or men. No propensity,
disposition, or habit can be virtuous or vicious, as has
been shown ; because they, so far as they take place, de
stroy the freedom of the Will, the foundation of all moral
Agency, and. exclude all capacity of either Virtue or Vice.
— And if habits and dispositions themselves be not vir
tuous nor vicious, neither can the exercise of these dis
positions be so : for the exercise of bias is not the exercise
of free self-determining Will, and so there is no exercise
of Liberty in it. Consequently, no man is virtuous or vi
cious, either in being well or ill disposed, nor in acting from
a good or bad disposition. And whether this bias or dis
position be habitual or not, if it exists but a moment before
the act of Will which is the effect of it, it alters not the case,
as to the necessity of the effect. Or if there be no previ
ous disposition at all, either habitual or occasional, that
determines the act, then it is not choice that determines it ;
it is therefore a contingence, that happens to the man,
arising from nothing in him ; and is necessary, as to any
inclination or choice of his ; and, therefore, cannot make
him either the better or worse ; any more than a tree is better
than other trees, because it oftener happens to be lighted
upon by a nightingale ; or a rock more vicious than other
rocks, because rattle-snakes have happened oftener to crawl
over it. So, that there is no Virtue nor Vice in good or
bad dispositions, either fixed or transient ; nor any Virtue
or Vice in acting from any good or bad previous inclina
tion ; nor yet any Virtue or Vice in acting wholly without
any previous inclination. Where then shall we find room
for Virtue or Vice ?

SECT. VII.
Arminian notions of moral Agency inconsistent with all
Influence of Motive and Inducement, in either virtuous
Or vicious actions.
As Arminian notions of that liberty which is essential
to virtue or vice, are inconsistent with common sense, in
their being inconsistent with all virtuous or vicious habits

56

and dispositions ; So they are no less inconsistent with all
influence of Motives in moral actions — Such influence
equally against those notions of liberty, whether there be,
previous to the act of choice, a preponderancy of the incli
nation, or a preponderancy of those circumstances, which
have a tendency to move the inclination. And, indeed, it
comes to just the same thing : to say, the circumstances of
the mind are such as tend to sway and turn its inclination
one way, is the same thing, as to say, the inclination of the
mind, as under such circumstances, tends that way.
Or if any think it most proper to say, that Motives do
alter the inclination, and give a new bias to the mind, it will
not alter the case, as to the present argument. For if
Motives operate by giving the mind an inclination, then
they operate by destroying the mind's indifference, and lay
ing it under a bias. But to do this, is to destroy the
Arminian freedom : it is not to leave the Will to its own
self-determination, but to bring it into subjection to the
power of something extrinsic, which operates upon it, sways
and determines it, previous to its own determination. So
that what is done from Motive, cannot be either virtuous
or vicious. Besides, if the acts of the Will are excited by
Motives, those Motives are the causes of those acts of the
Will ; which makes the acts of the Will necessary ; as effects
necessarily follow the efficiency of the cause. And if the
influence and power of the Motive causes the volition, then
the influence of the Motive determines volition, and voli
tion does not determine itself; and so is not free, in the
sense of Arminians, (as has beea largely shown already,)
and consequently can be neither virtuous nor vicious.
The supposition which has already been taken notice of
as an insufficient evasion in other cases, would be, in like
manner, impertinently alleged in this case; namely, the
supposition that liberty consists in a power of suspending
action for the present, in order to deliberation. If it should
be said, Though it be true, that the Will is under a neces
sity of finally following the strongest Motive ; yet it may,
for the present, forbear to act upon the Motive presented,
till there has been opportunity thoroughly to consider it,
and compare its real weight with the merit of other Motives.
I answer as follows :
Here again, it must be remembered, that if determining
thus to suspend and consider, be that act of the Wili,
wherein alone liberty is exercised, then in this all virtue
and vice must consist ; and the acts that follow this consi
deration, and are the effects of it, being necessary, are no
more virtuous or vicious than some good or bad events,
which happen when they are fast asleep, and are the conse
quences of what they did when they were awake. There
fore, I would here observe two things :
1. To suppose, that all virtue and vice, in every case,
consists in determining, whether to take time for consider
ation or not, is not agreeable to common sense. For, ac
cording to such a supposition, the most horrid crimes,
adultery, murder, sodomy, blasphemy, &c. do not at all
consist in the horrid nature of the things themselves, but
only in the neglect of thorough consideration before they
were perpetrated, which brings their viciousness to a small
matter, and makes all crimes equal. If it be said, that
neglect of consideration, when such heinous evils are pro
posed to choice, is worse than in other cases : I answer,
this is inconsistent, as it supposes the very thing to be,
which, at the same time, is supposed not to be ; it sup
poses all moral evil, all viciousness and heinousness, does
* The true reason why counsels, exhortations, &c. commonly called
motives, are consistent with the doctrine of necessity held by Calvinists,
may be here noticed, in addition to some hints before given. In order to
this, we must guard .against ambiguity in the word " motive," which at one
time is intended for the object exhibited, abstractedly considered; at
another, the object concretively, as it stands in the view of the mind. The
opposers of that necessity for which our author pleads must in order to
make even a show of consistency, understand the word " motive" in the
first of these acceptations. And if so. it is nothing marvellous that they
should maintain the existence of a power in the human mind which can,
on the one hand, successfully oppose the strongest possible motive ; and on
the other, be determined by a weaker, and even sometimes by the weakest
motive. For how often is the most insignificant bawble preferred to in
finite excellence ! But consistent Calvinists do not understand the term in
any such manner, but rather as an effect compounded of the state of the
mind and tbe real object. And, seeing the object, in itself considered, is
not changed by mental perception, the difference of the effect, or change of
mental view, must arise from the mind itself. Hence one motive, in the
Arminian sense, may produce, in the other acceptation of the term, a thou
sand different motives, according to the different mental states to which the
object is presented.
Therefore counsels, exhortations, invitations, &c. are most rationally

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL. Paet IIL
not consist merely in the want of consideration. It sup-
poses some crimes in themselves, in their own nature,lo be

more heinous than others, antecedent to consideration, or
inconsideration, which lays the person under a previous
obligation to consider in some cases more than others.
2 If it were so, that all virtue and vice, in every case,
consisted only in the act of the Will, whereby it deter
mines whether to consider or no, it would not alter the
case in the least, as to the present argument. For still m
this act of the Will on this determination, it is induced by
some Motive, and necessarily follows the strongest Mo
tive ; and so is necessarily, even in that act wherein alone
it is either virtuous or vicious. ¦ , ¦
One thing more I would observe, concerning the incon
sistence of Arminian notions of moral Agency with the In
fluence of Motives.— I suppose none will deny, that it is
possible for such powerful Motives to be set before the
mind, exhibited in so strong a light, and under such ad
vantageous circumstances, as to be invincible ; and such
as the mind cannot but yield to. In this case, Arminians
will doubtless say, liberty is destroyed. And if so, then
if Motives are exhibited with half so much power, they
hinder liberty in proportion to their strength, and go half
way towards destroying it. If a thousand degrees of
Motive abolish all liberty, then five hundred take it half
away. If one degree of "the influence of Motive does not
at all infringe or diminish liberty, then no more do two
degrees ; for nothing doubled, is still nothing. And if
two degrees do not diminish the Will's liberty, no more
do four, eight, sixteen, or six thousand. For nothing how
ever multiplied comes to but nothing, if there be nothing
in the nature of Motive or moral suasion, that is at all op
posite to liberty, then the greatest degree of it cannot hurt
liberty. But if there be somewhat, in the nature of the
thing, against liberty, then the least degree of it hurts in
some degree ; and consequently diminishes virtue. If in
vincible Motives to that action which is good, take away
all the freedom of the act, and so all the virtue of it; then
the more forcible the Motives are, so much the worse, so
much the less virtue ; and the weaker the Motives are, the
better for the cause of virtue ; and none is best of all.
Now let it be considered, whether these things are agree
able to common sense. If it should be allowed, that there
are some instances wherein the soul chooses without any
Motive, what virtue can there be in such a choice ? lam
sure there is no prudence or wisdom in it. Such a choice
is made for no good end ; being made for no end at all.
If it were for any end, the view of the end would be the
Motive exciting to the act ; and if the act be for no good
end, and so from no good aim, then there is no good in
tention in it: and, therefore, according to all our natural
notions of virtue, no more virtue in it than in the motion of
the smoke, which is driven to and fro by the wind, with
out any aim or end in the thing moved, and which knows
not whither, nor wherefore, it is moved.
Corol. 1. By these things it appears, that the argument
against the Calvinists, taken from the use of counsels, ex^
hortations, invitations, expostulations, &c. so much insisted
on by Arminians, is truly against themselves. For these
things can operate no other way to any good effect, than as
in them is exhibited Motive and Inducement, tending to
excite and determine the acts of the Will* But it follows,
on their principles, that the acts of Will excited by such
causes, cannot be virtuous ; because, so far as they are
employed by Calvinists ; for that which determines the human will to
action, is the motive as it is perceived, or that which results from an ap
plication of the object to the mind. According to them, without an object
presented there can be no motive, any more than there can be a motive
without a mind to wbich it is presented. Without evangelical truth, and
an evangelical mind, or disposition, there can be no evangelical determin
ing motive. Consequently, if the mind be at all roused from ignorance and
apathy, determining motives must he produced in it by a representation of
objects, by counsels, exhortations, invitations, expostulations, &.C These
will succeed, or fail of success, morally, according to the state of the mind.
But as the agent is free from co-action, constraint, and compulsion, in the
act of choosing, the true inference is — not that such use of the means is un
suitable or inconsistent, but — that here is clearly implied the great neces
sity, the rationality, and tbe perfect consistency of prayer to the God of
grace, for success on the use of means. Paul may plant, and Apollos may
water, but God giveth the increase. To influence the mind toitnout moral
motives, is the prerogative of God. .All hearts are in his hand to form them
as he pleases. If the tree be good by sovereign influence, or a new birth,
the fruit of love to God and hatred to sin, holy fear, unfeigned faith, humble
hope, _.c. will follow, according to the objects presented. A crop will not
follow without the union of two things, seed and soil. If both be good, the
crop will be good, but not otherwise. That motive which determines the

Sect. V_T.

ARMINIAN NOTIONS OF MORAL AGENCY, &c.

57

from these, they are not from the Wall's self-determining
power. Hence it will follow, that it is not worth while to
offer any arguments to persuade men to any virtuous voli
tion or voluntary action ; it is in vain to set before them
the wisdom and amiableness of ways of virtue, or the
odiousness and folly of ways of vice. This notion of
liberty and moral Agency frustrates all endeavours to draw
men to virtue by instruction or persuasion, precept or ex
ample : for though these things may induce them to what
is materially virtuous, yet at the same time they take away
the./i)m of virtue, because thev destroy liberty ; as they,
by their own power, put the Will out of its equilibrium,
determine and turn the scale, and take the work of self-
determining power out of its hands. And the clearer the
instructions given, the more powerful the arguments used,
and the more moving the persuasions or examples, the
more likely they are to frustrate their own design; because
they have so much the greater tendency to put the Will out
of its balance, to hinder its freedom of self-determination ;
and so to exclude the very form of virtue, and the essence
of whatsoever is praiseworthy.
So it clearly follows, from these principles, that God has
no hand in any man's virtue, nor does at all promote it,
either by a physical or moral influence ; that none of the
moral methods he uses with men to promote virtue in the
world, have any tendency to the attainment of that end ;
that all the instructions he has given men, from the begin
ning of the world to this day, by prophets or apostles, or
by his Son Jesus Christ ; that all his counsels, invitations,
promises, threatenings, warnings, and expostulations ; that
all means he has used with men, in ordinances, or provi
dences ; yea, all influences of his Spirit, ordinary and ex
traordinary, have had no tendency at all to excite any one
virtuous act of the mind, or to promote any thing morally
good and commendable, in any respect. — For there is no
way that these or any other means can promote virtue,
but one of these three. Either, (1.) By a physical opera
tion on the heart. But all effects that are wrought in men
in this way, have no virtue in them, by the concurring
voice of all Arminians. Or, (2.) Morally, by exhibiting
Motives to the understanding, to excite good acts in the
Will. But it has been demonstrated, that volitions ex
cited by Motives, are necessary, and not excited by a self-
moving power ; and therefore, by their principles, there is
no virtue in them. Or, (3.) By merely giving the Will
an opportunity to determine itself concerning the objects
proposed, either to choose or reject, by its own uncaused,
unmoved, uninfluenced self-determination. And if this
be all, then all those means do no more to promote virtue
than vice : for they do nothing but give the Will oppor
tunity to determine itself either way, either to good or bad,
without laying it under any bias to either: and so there is
really as much of an opportunity given to determine in fa
vour of evil, as of good.
Thus that horrid blasphemous consequence will cer
tainly follow from the Arminian doctrine, which they
charge on others ; namely, that God acts an inconsistent
part in using so many counsels, warnings, invitations, en
treaties, &c. with sinners, to induce them to forsake sin,
and turn to the ways of virtue ; and that all are insincere
and fallacious. It will follow, from their doctrine, that

God does these things when he knows, at the same time,
that they have no manner of tendency to promote the
effect he seems to aim at ; yea, knows that if they have
any influence, this very influence will be inconsistent with
such an effect, and will prevent it. But what an imputa
tion of insincerity would this fix on him, who is infinitely
holy and true ! — So that theirs is the doctrine which, if
pursued in its consequences, does horribly reflect on the
Most High, and fix on him the charge of hypocrisy ; and
not the doctrine of the Calvinist, according to their fre
quent and vehement exclamations and invectives.
Corol. 2. From what has been observed in this section,
it again appears, that Arminian principles and notions,
when fairly examined and pursued in their demonstrable
consequences, do evidently shut all virtue out of the
world, and make it impossible that there should ever be
any such thing, in any case ; or that any such thing should
ever be conceived of. For^by these principles, the very
notion of virtue or vice implies absurdity and contradic
tion. For it is absurd in itself, and contrary to common
sense, to suppose a virtuous act of mind without any good-
intention or aim; and, by their principles, it is absurd to
suppose a virtuous act with a good intention or aim ; for
to act for an end, is to act from a Motive. So that if we
rely on these principles, there can be no virtuous act with
a good design and end ; and it is self-evident, there can be
none without : consequently there can be no virtuous act
at all.
Corol. 3. It is manifest, that Arminian notions of moral
Agency, and the being of a faculty of Will, cannot consist
together ; and that if there can be any such thing as either
a virtuous or vicious act, it cannot be an act of the Will ;
no Will can be at all concerned in it. For that act which
is performed without inclination, without Motive, without
end, must be performed without any concern of the Will.
To suppose an act of the Will without these, implies a
contradiction. If the soul in its act has no motive or end ;
then, in that act (as was observed before) it seeks nothing,
goes after nothing, exerts no inclination to any thing ; and
this implies, that in that act it desires nothing, and chooses
nothing ; so that there is no act of choice in the case : and
that is as much as to say, there is no act of Will in the
case. Which very effectually shuts all vicious and vir
tuous acts out of the universe ; inasmuch as, according
to this, there can be no vicious or virtuous act wherein
the Will is concerned : and according to the plainest dic
tates of reason, and the light of nature, and also the princi
ples of Arminians themselves, there can be no virtuous or
vicious act wherein the Will is not concerned. And there
fore there is no room for any virtuous or vicious acts at all.
Corol. 4. If none of the moral actions of intelligent
beings are influenced by either previous inclination or
Motive, another strange thing will follow ; and this is, that
God not only cannot foreknow any of the future moral
actions of his creatures, but he can make no conjecture,
can give no probable guess concerning them. For all
conjecture in things of this nature must depend on some
discerning or apprehension of these two things, previous
Disposition and Motive, which, as has been observed,
Arminian notions of moral Agency, in their real conse
quence, altogether exclude.

PART IV.
WHEREIN THE CHIEF GROUNDS OF THE REASONINGS OF ARMINIANS, IN SUPPORT AND DEFENCE OF THE FORE-MEN
TIONED NOTIONS OF LIBERTY, MORAL AGENCY, _c. AND AGAINST THE OPPOSITE DOCTRINE, ARE CONSIDERED.

SECT. I.
The Essence of the virtue and vice of dispositions of the
heart, and acts of the Will, ties not in their Cause, but
their Nature*
One main foundation of the reasons, which are brought
to establish the forementioned notions of liberty, virtue,
will, cannot arise from any other cause than the object and the disposition
united. And then only can the determining motive be good, when it re
sults from a good object applied to a good disposition, or state of mind.

vice, &c. is a supposition, that the virtuousness of the dis
positions, or acts of the Will, consists not in the nature of
these dispositions, or acts of the Will, but wholly in the
Origin or Cause of them : so that if the disposition of the
mind, or acts of the Will, be never so good, yet if the Cause
of the disposition or act be not our virtue, there is nothing
virtuous or praiseworthy in it ; and, on the contrary, if the
These things duly considered will sufficiently prove why Calvinists use
counsels, exhortations, invitations, &tc. — W.
* This may appear to some to be an identical proposition -" The essence

58

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

Will, in its inclination or acts, be never so bad, yet, unless
it arises from something that is our vice or fault, there
of a thing lies in its nature ;" but it is not wholly so, and the whole of the
firoposition is exceedingly important, on account of the negative part, or the
ncidental proposition it contains, viz. The essence of virtue and vice lies
not in their cause. A single consideration may be sufficient to show the
truth and importance of one part of this last proposition. If the essence of
virtue lay in its cause, how could the first cause, or the uncaused nature,
be virtuous? If therefore the first cause be virtuous, or have the essence
of virtue, as all atheists will allow, it is plain, that essence must lie in the
nature of that cause itself. Hence, as God is the standard of all moral
excellence, created natures are morally excellent in proportion as they re
semble him. And as virtue is an imitable excellence, and as good reason
can be assigned why the resemblance should not hold in this particular, it
is highly probable, a priori, that, in reference to created natures, the essence
of their virtue lies not in its cause. To demonstrate this last, is the design
of the present section.
Again, as the essence of virtue lies not in its cause, so neither does the
essence of vice Me in its cause. But the philosophical ground of this part of
the general proposition demands more particular attention. And as this
proposition — " the essence of vice lies not in its cause," affects the whole
system of morals, and indeed of theology, we beg leave to propose a series
of remarks wbich, it is hoped, will cast some light on the subject.
1. Causes are of two kinds, and of two only, either positive or negative.
Positive causes produce positive effects, from the first cause through all
secondary causes ; and these positive secondary causes are nothing else but
so many decretive antecedents, which act physically, and their conse
quences follow from the nature of things; even as number follows the
repetition of units, or happiness results from true virtue.
2. The term " cause " is applied less properly to express a negative idea ;
for it expresses merely an antecedent of a consequent For instance, if we
say that a man cannot read because he is blind, or cannot walk because he
has no legs, or cannot go to heaven because he does not love God, and the
like ; it is manifest that blindness, want of legs, and want of love to God,
are " causes " only as antecedents are causes to their consequents, without
positive influence.
3. Negative causes, though they have no positive operation in producing
their consequents, are no less the ground of certainty than those causes,
properly so called, which exist in physical operations. For the consequent
follows the antecedent with equal certainty, whether the connexion be
formed by decretive will and energy, as in all positive causes, or by the
nature of things only, which is essential truth, as in all negative causes.
4. The cause of vicious acts, is a vicious disposition ; in other words, it is
the icant, or the absence of a virtuous disposition. The essence of the
vicious act, however, is not in the cause, or disposition. The vice of the dis
position is one thing, and the vice of the act is another. For as the nature
of the disposition, and the nature of the act, are different; so the vice, or
moral badness of the one, is a differeot badness from that of the other. Tbe
one and the other is a bad thing whatever be the cause, and irrespective of
any. Hence,
5. Evil dispositions or acts should he denominated such, not from their
cause, but from their nature. Were it otherwise, personal fault, or blame,
could never exist ; for the vicious act would transfer the blame to the dispo
sition, and the disposition to the cause of that ; whereby persons would be
free from blame, and this would attach to principles only. But to suppose a
moral agent incapable of blameworthiness, which on the supposition would
be the case, is a gross absurdity. It would be to suppose an accountable
being, who at the same time can be accountable for nothing ; and it would
be to impute blame to principles, or a principle, which is incapable of moral
agency. 6. lhe cause of virtuous acts, or, if we may so speak, the soil in which
they grow, is a previous inclination or disposition to good, before any actual
choice takes place. This may be called a virtuous inclination, or disposi
tion. But the original and predisposing cause of that, is divine energy, in
flux, or influence ; in other words, an assimilating emanation from the holy
nature and decretive will of God.
7. Nevertheless, this is not a good, or a virtue, attributable to man, until
he is actually possessed of it, or it becomes his, as a quality of his nature.
God, the Father of lights, from whom every good and perfect gift proceed
ed, is the cause of that virtuous disposition ; but while the virtue remained
in the cause, and not in the man, it was no human virtue. Nor does the
essence of human virtue lie in the communication itself, for this was the
effect of divine will ; but no will can alter the nature of virtue : therefore,
the essence of virtue consists not in the cause, whether we understand by
*' cause," the Will that communicates the virtuous disposition, or the com
munication itself. Consequently, the absence of virtue is so completely
confined to the disposition of the agent, and the consequent acts, as to ex
clude every thing else that may be termed its cause.
8. The cause of vicious acts, whatever it be, is opposite to the cause of
virtuous acts ; for these acts have diametrically opposite effects. That vi
cious acts have a cause, as well as virtuous ones, cannot be denied by any
reflecting person, for this plain reason, that there is nothing in the univer
sality of things, beings, qualities, &c. but has a cause, either positive or
negative, as before explained. Neither agency, liberty, nor anything else,
considered as an effect, or a consequent, can exist without a cause, or an
tecedent. The denial of this, and universal scepticism, are the same thing.
Then all reasoning, and all common sense, vanish. Then body and spirit,
cause and effects, good and evil, &c. are huddled up in endless confusion,
without either first or last, great or small, order or proportion.
9. The original, predisposing cause of a vicious disposition, is the very op
posite of the original, predisposing cause of a virtuous disposition. This last,
it has been shown, is divine energy, wbich is a positive cause ; the other,
the opposite of this, is a negative cause. The cause of good, as before ob
served, is a cause properly so called, in the way of physical influence ; but
the cause of evil is called " a cause" improperly, as it implies no physical
influence, but only stands as an antecedent to a consequent; from which
however the consequent may be inferred with as much certainty as if the
influence were physical ana mechanical. Whether you suppose positive
quantities, or negative quantities, consequences are equally certain, it is no
less true that 5—2=3, than-|-33=6. Whether you say, If the sum. ere not,
it would cause darkness ; or say, If the sun shine, it will cause light; the
difference is only in the nature of the cause, as either positive or negative,
not in the certainty of the consequence.
10. It would be very absurd and contradictory to say that the cause of
vice is vicious. For that would be the same as to say, that a thing was be
fore it existed. To be vicious is to hare vice ; and for this to be the cause of
vice, is for it to be the cause of itself, or self-caused, which is absurd. It
is therefore impossible that the cause of vice should be vicious ; conse
quently the essence of vice is no where but in its own proper nature, to the
exclusion of every cause whatever. And yet, as it is an effect, it must have
a cause. 11. The principal question to be determined, in this investigation, is,
What is precisely the original, predisposing, negative cause of a vicious dis
position ? The answer is plain and short; it is that property of a creature
which renders it absolutely dependent for its being and well-being. Or, it

is nothing vicious or blameworthy in it. Hence their grand
objection and pretended demonstration, or self-evidence,
is that property which is the very opposite to independence, self-sufficiency,
and immutability : and therefore is a property peculiar to a creature, and
cannot belong to God.
12. Nor can_this be said to be an actually existing property from eternity ;
since it cannot belong to God, and nothing, the only alternative, has no pro
perty. It is not therefore the Manichean eternal evil principle, ifby thisbe
meant any thing actually existing, as coeval with a good principle. Good is
a principle positively eternal; but what we speak of is a mere negative
principle, and owes its existence as a property to a created nature ; and
were every creature annihilated, this property would also cease to be.
13. But what shall we call this principle, property, or predisposing cause
of vice ? Shall we call it defectibility, defect, limitation, or imperfection
of existence ? Not the first: for the question would return, What makes a
creature defectible ? Not the second ; for the term is ambiguous, as there
are several kinds of defect, natural and moral, and therefore, as the word is
of common use, and of frequent occurrence, it would require perpetual ex--
Slanations. Not the third, or the fourth; for the same reason. A term
lerefore not ambiguous, and sufficiently expressive, should be employed;
as we employ technical terms to express a specific object. For this purpose,
no term, perhaps, is less exceptionable, or more suitable, than passivj
power; for it is free from ambiguity, and is sufficiently expressive of the
idea already explained. The idea of passivity is clearly implied in the name,
as in the thing ; and the term pomer seems preferable to property, or quality,
because less ambiguous, and yet more expressive to convey the intended
idea of metaphysical influence of cause and effect.
14. To which wemay add, That " passive power" is by no meansanew
coined expression ; but has often been used to express the very idea to which
it is here applied. Thus, above a century and a half ago, that eminently
pious and profoundly learned divine, Theophilus Gale, in his " Court of
tbe Gentiles," says : " The root and origin of all creatural dependence, is
the creature's passive power, and God's absolute dominion over it— Now
all limits as to nature and essence speak a mixture of nihility, passive power
and dependence resulting therefrom ; whence Damascene adds, ' Mown
yap to ft (or araBe? e<rn. The Deity only is impassible ;' namely, because
exempt from nihility, passive power, and dependence. This nihility or
nothingness of the creature is the same with its passive power either physic
or metaphysic, natural or obediential : whereby it is limited, and confined to
such or such a degree of entity, existence, and operation." (Court of Gent
Part IV. B.ii. ch.xi.§4.)
15. Now that the essence of vice consisteth not in this property is plain, in
that passive power is essential to a creature, which vice neither is nor can
be. It is the soul in which vice grows, and without wbich it could not grow,
or have existence, but is not itself vicious; otherwise we should be forced
to seek the cause of that cause in perpetual retrogradation, and move from
one difficulty to another into endless absurdity. The predisposing cause of
vice, therefore, is passive power which in itself is not vicious, or morally
evil. But how moral evil came to exist, and what is its true origin, will be
more conveniently considered in a subsequent part of this work.
16. As the essence of the virtue and vice of dispositions and acts lies not in
their cause, so neither does it lie in their effects : that is, dispositions and
acts are not to be denominated virtuous or vicious on account of their effect
or consequences, such as their being productive of happiness or misery.
For as the properties of any thing must be different from those of its cause,
however similar, so must 'those properties differ from their effects. The
immediate effect of virtue is — not happiness to the individual, for instance,
but — that the agent is approvable, or praiseworthy. But were the essence
of virtue to consist in " its tendency to ultimate happiness." as some have
affirmed, immediate approbation and praise could not be safely given to
any individual act or disposition, as its relation to ultimate happiness could
not be ascertained but by the final event. If the essence of the virtue or
vice were not in the act or disposition, but to be denominated from its effects,
many other absurdities would follow. For instance,
17. On that supposition, the supreme excellence of Jehovah would not be
approvable and praiseworthy on its own account, or its intrinsic excellency,
but only because of its effects and consequences. On that principle, to hate
God would be nothing bad, it would have no intrinsic demerit; or to love
God would be nothing good, nothing in itself praiseworthy, were it not for
consequences. Whichisnotonly absurd, but blasphemous also and shocking,
18. That sentiment is evidently founded on the supposition that every
thing, property, quality, and event, is the fruit of divine will; and there
fore that every thing must be equally good in itself, though relatively good
or bad to the individual: even as matter and motion, and their laws, are
equally good in themselves, but not relatively so to the individuals who
suffer from them. But this is a great mistake, as it confounds things totally
distinct in their nature, such as positive and negative causes, natural ne
cessity and moral certainty. Decretive positions and their consequences
are one ground of certainty; negative causes and their consequences are
another ; therefore, from the certainty of result in the divine view we cannot
rightly infer that all results are decreed. Decretive positions comprehend
neither negative causes, nor the nature of things. For an intelligent being
to love God, is agreeable to the nature of things ; it is what ought to be
independent of any decretive position, or legal demand in reference to the
case. In like manner, for an intelligent being to hate God is a voluntary
contradiction to Ztienature of things— or the essence of eternal truth which
is above all will, or is not founded in will— as well as to constituted law.
Again, 19. To deny the " intrinsic merit and demerit of voluntary actions inde
pendent on their consequences," as some do,'* is to deny the nature of
things; and this is nothing less than an attempt to divide eternal unity, to
give the lie direct to essential truth, and to convert the first uncaused es
sence into contradictory contingencies. The nature of things is nothing
else, radically, but the nature of God, which is essential truth as well as
essential goodness. Decretive positions, or an arbitrary constitution of
things by divine will, therefore can no more alter the intrinsic merit or
demerit of actions, affections, habits, or characters, than divine will can alter
tne character of essential truth, or choose real contradictions. Moreover,
20. Ultimate happiness is the effect or consequence of virtue as a reward.
Now to make the merit or excellence of virtue to depend on ultimate hap
piness, while happiness is the reward of virtue, is most inconsistent ; it is to
reward for nothing rewardable. If virtue be not of intrinsic worth, it must
be a mere moral nothing, as to rewardableness, and therefore ultimate hap
piness would be a reward for a mere moral nothing ; that is, happiness
would be no reward, which is contradictory.
21 . As to vice, its consequence is punishmen t. If indeed this consequence
were the mere effect of arbitrary positions, or sovereign appointment : if it
were the plan of God first to cause the existence of vice, and then to punish
the subject of it, as what the good of the whole required, there would be
great plausibility m the sentiment we oppose. But the assumption itself is
fundamentally erroneous. It confounds hypothetical antecedents, as Hie
whole of decretive plans maybe termed, with that eternal truth which con-

* Bclsham's Elements, p. ;

Sect. I.

OF THE ESSENCE OF VIRTUE AND VICE.

59

against any virtue and commendableness, or vice and
blameworthiness, of those habits or acts of the Will,
which are not from some virtuous or vicious determination
of the Will itself.
Now, if this matter be well considered, it will appear to
be altogether a mistake, yea, a gross absurdity ; and that
it is most certain, that if there be any such thing, as a vir
tuous or vicious disposition, or volition of mind, the vir-
tuousness or viciousness of them consists not in the Origin
or Cause of these things, but in the Nature of them.
If the Essence of virtuousness or commendableness,
and of viciousness or fault, does not lie in the Nature of the
dispositions or acts of mind, which are said to be our
virtue or our fault, but in their Cause, then it is certain it
lies no where at all. Thus, for instance, if the vice of a
vicious act of Will, lies not in the Nature of the act, but
the Cause ; so that its being of a bad Nature will not make
it at all our fault, unless it arises from some faulty deter
mination of ours, as its Cause, or something in us that is
our fault ; then, for the same reason, neither can the vicious
ness of that Cause lie in the Nature of the thing itself, but
in its Cause : that evil determination of ours is not our
fault, merely because it is of a bad Nature, unless it arises
from some Cause in us that is our fault. And when we
are come to this higher Cause, still the reason of the thing
holds good ; though this Cause be of a bad Nature, yet we
are not at all to blame on that account, unless it arises
from something faulty in us. Nor yet can blameworthi
ness lie in the Nature of this Cause," but in the Cause of
that. And thus we must drive faultiness back from step
to step, from a lower Cause to a higher, in infinitum : and
that is, thoroughly to banish it from the world, and to allow
it no possibility of existence any where in the universality
of things. On these principles, vice, or moral evil, cannot
consist in any thing that is an effect ; because fault does
not consist in the Nature of things, but in their Cause ; as
¦well as because effects are necessary, being unavoidably
connected with their Cause : therefore the Cause only is
to blame. And so it follows, that faultiness can lie only
in that Cause, which is a Cause only, and no effect of any
thing. Nor yet can it lie in this ; for then it must lie in
the Nature of the thing itself ; not in its being from any
determination of ours, nor any thing faulty in us which is
the Cause, nor indeed from any Cause at all ; for, by the
supposition, it is no effect, and has no Cause. And thus,
he that will maintain, it is not the Nature of habits or acts
of Will that makes them virtuous or faulty, but the Cause,
must immediately run himself out of his own assertion ;
and in maintaining it, will insensibly contradict and
deny it.
This is certain, that if effects are vicious and faulty, not
from their Nature, or from any thing inherent in them, but
because they are from a bad Cause, it must be on account
of the badness of the Cause : a bad effect in the Will must
be bad, because the Cause is bad, or of an evil Nature, or
has badness as a quality inherent in it : and a good effect in
the Will must be good, by reason of the goodness of the
Cause, or its being of a good Kind and Nature. And if
this be what is meant, the very supposition of fault and
praise lying not in the Nature of the thing, but the Cause,
contradicts itself, and does at least resolve the Essence of
virtue and vice into the Nature of things, and supposes it
originally to consist in that. — And if a caviller has a mind
to run from the absurdity, by saying, " No, the fault of the
thing, which is the Cause, lies not in this, that the Cause
itself is of an evil Nature, but that the Cause is evil in that
sense, that it is from another bad Cause." Still the ab
surdity will follow him ; for, if so, then the Cause before
charged is at once acquitted, and all the blame must be
laid to the higher Cause, and must consist in that being
evil, or of an evil Nature. So now, we are come again to
lay the blame of the thing blameworthy, to the Nature of
the thing, and not to the Cause. And if any is so foolish
as to go higher still, and ascend from step to step, till he
is come to that which is the first Cause concerned in the
nects them with their consequences. To suppose the hatred of God, for
instance, to have no intrinsic demerit in it, or that it is bad only as depend
ent on its consequences ; is the same as to say, it is agreeable to the nature
of things, conformable to eternal truth, that God should be hated, and
therefore that he must approve oi it — only to the agent it is attended with
bad consequences. That is, on the supposition, God has appointed misery

whole affair, and will say, all the blame lies in that ; then,
at last, he must be forced to own, that the faultiness of the
thing, which he supposes alone blameworthy, lies wholly
in the Nature of the thing, and not in the Original or
Cause of it ; for the supposition is, that it has no Original,
it is determined by no act of ours, is caused by nothing
faulty in us, being absolutely without any Cause. And so
the race is at an end, but the evader is taken in his flight.
It is agreeable to the natural notions of mankind, that
moral evil, with its desert of dislike and abhorrence, and
all its other ill deservings, consists in a certain deformity
in the Nature of certain dispositions of the heart, and acts
of the Will ; and not in the deformity of something else,
diverse from the very thing itself, which deserves abhor
rence, supposed to be the Cause of it. Which would be
absurd, because that would be to suppose a thing that is
innocent and not evil, is truly evil and faulty, because an
other thing is evil. It implies a contradiction; for it
would be to suppose, the very thing, which is morally evil
and blameworthy, is innocent and not blameworthy ; but
that something else, which is its Cause, is only to blame.
To say, that vice does not consist in the thing which is
vicious, but in its Cause, is the same as to say, that vice
does not consist in vice, but in that which produces it.
It is true, a Cause may be to blame, for being the Cause
of vice : it may be wickedness in the Cause, that it pro
duces wickedness. But it would imply a contradiction,
to suppose that these two are the same individual wicked
ness. The wicked act of the Cause in producing wicked
ness, is one wickedness ; and the wickedness produced, if
there be any produced, is another. And therefore, the
wickedness of the latter does not lie in the former, but is
distinct from it ; and the wickedness of both lies in the
evil Nature of the things which are wicked.
The thing, which makes sin hateful, is that by which it
deserves punishment ; which is but the expression of
hatred. And that, which renders virtue lovely, is that on
account of which it is fit to receive praise and reward;
which are but the expressions of esteem and love. But
that which makes vice hateful, is its hateful Nature; and
that which renders virtue lovely, is its amiable Nature. It
is a certain beauty or deformity that are inherent in that
good or evil will, which is the soul of virtue and vice, (and
not in the occasion of it,) which is their worthiness of esteem
or disesteem, praise or dispraise, according to the common
sense of mankind. If the Cause or occasion of the rise of
an hateful disposition or act of Will, be also hateful ; sup
pose another antecedent evil will ; that is entirely another
sin, and deserves punishment by itself, under a distinct
consideration. There is worthiness of dispraise in the
Nature of an evil volition, and not wholly in some foregoing
act, which is its Cause ; otherwise the evil volition, which
is the effect, is no moral evil, any more than sickness, or
some other natural calamity, which arises from a Cause
morally evil.
Thus, for instance, ingratitude is hateful and worthy of
dispraise, according to common sense ; not because some
thing as bad, or worse than ingratitude, was the Cause
that produced it ; but because it is hateful in itself, by its
own inherent deformity. So the love of virtue is amiable,
and worthy of praise, not merely because something else
went before this love of virtue in our minds, which caused
it to take place there — for instance, our own choice ; we
chose to love virtue, and, by some method or other,
wrought ourselves into the love of it— but because of the
amiableness and condecency of such a disposition and
inclination of heart. If that was the case, that we did
choose to love virtue, and so produced that love in our
selves, this choice itself could be no otherwise amiable or
praiseworthy, than as love to virtue, or some other amiable
inclination, was exercised and implied in it. If that choice
was amiable at all, it must be so on account of some
amiable quality in the Nature of the choice. If we choose
to love virtue, not in love to virtue, or any thing that was
good, and exercised no sort of good disposition in the
as the consequent, for doing nothing that is in itself had ; yea for doing
what is perfectly innocent, agreeable to the nature of tilings, conformable
to eternal truth, and acceptable to God, as every thing which he appoints
must be. Whether such a sentiment be nearest a-kin to " profound philo
sophy " or to something else, let the competent reader judge — W*

60

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL

Part IV.

choice, the choice itself was not virtuous, nor worthy of
any praise, according to common sense, because the choice
was not of a. good Nature.
It may not be improper here to take notice of something
said by an author, that has lately made a mighty noise in
America. " A necessary holiness (says he*) is no holi-
ness.— Adam could not be originally created in righteous
ness and true holiness, because he must choose to be
righteous, before he could be righteous. And therefore
he must exist, he must be created, yea, he must exercise
thought and reflection, before he was righteous." There
is much more to the same effect, (p. 437, 438, 439, 440.)
If these things are so, it will certainly follow, that the first
choosing to be righteous is no righteous choice ; there is
no righteousness or holiness in it ; because no choosing to
be righteous goes before it. For he plainly speaks of
choosing to be righteous, as what must go before righteous
ness ; and that which follows the choice, being the effect
of the choice, cannot be righteousness or holiness : for an
effect is a thing necessary, and cannot prevent the in
fluence or efficacy of its Cause ; and therefore is unavoid
ably dependent upon the Cause : and he says, a necessary
holiness is no holiness. So that neither can a choice of
righteousness be righteousness or holiness, nor can any
thing that is consequent on that choice, and the effect of
it, be righteousness or holiness ; nor can any thing that is
without choice, be righteousness or holiness. So that by
his scheme, all righteousness and holiness is at once shut
out of the world, and no door left open, by which it can
ever possibly enter into the world.
I suppose, the way that men came to entertain this ab
surd notion— with respect to internal inclinations and
volitions themselves, (or notions that imply it,) viz. that the
Essence of their moral good or evil lies not in their Nature,
but their Cause — was, that it is indeed a very plain dictate
of common sense, that it is so with respect to all outward
actions, and sensible motions of the body ; that the moral
good or evil of them does not lie at all in the motions
themselves ; which, taken by themselves, are nothing of a
moral nature ; and the Essence of all the moral good or
evil that concerns them, lies in those internal dispositions
and volitions, which are the Cause of them. Now, being
always used to determine this, without hesitation or dis
pute, concerning external Actions; which in the common
use of language are signified by such phrases, as men's
actions or their doings ; hence, when they came to speak of
volitions, and internal exercises of their inclinations, under
the same denomination of their actions, or what they do,
they unwarily determined the case must also be the same
with these, as with external actions ; not considering the
vast difference in the Nature of the case.
If any shall still object and say, why is it not necessary
that the Cause should be considered; in order to determine
whether any thing be worthy ,of blame or praise ? is it
agreeable to reason and common sense, that a man is to be
praised or blamed for that of which he is not the Cause or
author? » Scrip. Doc. of Original Sin, p. 180. 3d Edit.
t Were the human mind, indeed, not the subject of either passive power,
on the one hand, as the predisposing cause of vice ; or of divine holy influ
ence, on the other, as the predisposing cause of real virtue; and were the
determining motive what some have represented it to be, the object itself,
irrespective of the changeable state of the mind perceiving it ; the objection,
that " a necessary agent is a plain contradiction," or, in other words, that
man is no proper agent, would be unanswerable. For the rank and place
of man in creation, and his relative circumstances in the arrangement of
providence, being the result of decretive appointment, if he himself were
not liable to any change but by the same appointment, it would follow, that
if the objects themselves determined him to choose, and to choose always
according to the strongest motive, his very volitions in the acts themselves
would be necessitated decretively, to tbe exclusion of all hypothetical or
moral possibility of failure ; and therefore could never be erroneous, any
more than the first cause could act erroneously. On such principles, moral
evil, vice or fault, could have no existence. _fo effect could be otherwise
than good, amiable, and perfectly innocent; a moral possibility of failure
being excluded by natural necessity. For the volition itself to be so neces
sitated, and not in a moral or hypothetical manner only, is the same thing
as giving it no opportunity of choice or preference, or constraining it to
choose one way by a settled purpose, with a natural impossibility ofacting
otherwise. But if every act of man be thus the result of settled purpose,
why should he be blamed for any one act whatever ? He does nothing but
what he is constrained, or decretively necessitated to perform, the contrary
being rendered naturally impossible ; and if he deserves no praise, he can
incur no blame, any more than a clock for not keeping time. Such a neces
sary agent would be indeed a plain contradiction. There is much reason
to apprehend that some philosophical necessarians have no better notion of
agency than that which Mr. Chubb charges, and justly charges, with " a
plain contradiction." For those who hold the sentiment, that every act,
even as to its moral quality, and every event, are of decretive appointment,

I answer, such phrases as being the Cause, being the
author, and the like, are ambiguous. They are most vul
garly understood for being the designing voluntary Cause,
or Cause by antecedent choice : and it is most certain, that
men are not, in this sense, the Causes or authors of the
first act of their Wills, in any case ; as certain as any thing
is, or ever can be ; for nothing can be more certain, than
that a thing is not before it is, nor a thing of the same kind
before the first thing of that kind ; and so no choice before
the first choice.— As the phrase, being the author, may be
understood, not of being the producer by an antecedent act
of Will ; but as a person may be said to be the author of
the act of Will itself, by his being the immediate agent, or
the being that is acting, or in exercise in that act ; if the
phrase of being the author, is used to signify this, then
doubtless common sense requires men being the authors of
their own acts of Will, in order to their being esteemed
worthy of praise or dispraise, on account of them. And
common sense teaches, that they must be the authors of
external actions, in the former sense, namely, their being
the Causes of them by an act of Will or choice, in order
to their being justly blamed or praised : but it teaches no
such thing with respect to the acts of the Will themselves.—
But this may appear~more manifest by the things which
will be observed in the following section.

SECT. II.
The Falseness and Inconsistence of that metaphysical no
tion of Action, and Agency, which seems to be generally
entertained by the defenders of the Arminian Doctrine
concerning Liberty, moral Agency, tec.
One thing, that is made very much a ground of argu
ment and supposed demonstration by Arminians, in defence
of the forementioned principles, concerning moral Agency,
virtue, vice, &c. is their metaphysical notion of Agency and
Action. They say, unless the soul has a self-determining
power, it has no power of Action ; if its volitions be not
caused by itself, but are excited and determined by some
extrinsic cause, they cannot be the soul's own acts; and
that the soul cannot be active, but must be wholly passive,
in those effects of which it is the subject necessarily, and
not from its own free determination.
Mr. Chubb lays the foundation of his scheme of Liberty,
and of his arguments to support it, very much in this posi
tion, that man is an Agent, and capable of Action. Which
doubtless is true : but self-determination belongs to his
notion of Action, and is the very essence of it. Whence
he infers, that it is impossible for a man to act and be
acted upon, in the same thing, at the same time ; and that
no Action can be the effect of the Action of another : and
he insists, that a necessary Agent, or an Agent that is ne
cessarily determined to act, is a plain contradiction.^
But those are a precarious sort of demonstrations, which
men build on the meaning that they arbitrarily affix to a
in subserviency to ultimate good, must allow, in order to be tolerably con
sistent, that the Supreme Being is " the only proper agent in the universe ;''!
and thus reduce human agency, and things else called agency in a creature,
to an appointed necessary chotce, however odious in its nature, mischievous
in its tendency, or painful in experience. Thus, according to them, God is
the only proper agent in all foul crimes and horrid blasphemies, on earth
and in hell ! They have a right to define their terms, and to say what they
mean by agency in God, or in a creature, and to state their hypothesis ac
cordingly ; but others also have a right to deduce the genuine consequences
of that hypothesis, and to show wherein its error lies. — The design of these
notes is not to excite a spirit of unprofitable controversy, but to assist the
serious inquirer in detecting errors and recognizing truths of radical import
ance in ethics and theology ; and, it is hoped, that to promote these ends
the following observations may conduce.
1. It is granted, that in reference to natural acts, the Supreme Being is
the " only proper agent in the universe," as they all spring from his energy.
In this respect he is the first cause of all causes, efficiently ; and the de
scription of the poet is philosophically just : he
" Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze.
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees,
Lives through all life, extends through all extent.
Spreads undivided, operates unspent" Pope.
2. It is also granted, that, in all acts morally good, the created agent is
the subject of necessity several ways. He has an active nature from de
cretive necessity, wbich it is not in his power to alter. He is also, accord
ingly, compelled to some act of choice, from the activity of his nature. He
is, moreover, the subject of physical influence of a holy and purifying
nature, whereby the goodness of his choice is infallibly secured; andwith-
J Belsham's Elements of the Philosophy of the Mind, p. 254.

Sect. II.

ARMINIAN NOTION OF ACTION, FALSE.

61

word ; especially when that meaning is abstruse, inconsist
ent, and entirely diverse from the original sense of the word
in common speech.
That the meaning of the word Action, as Mr. Chubb and
many others use it, is utterly unintelligible and inconsist
ent, is manifest, because it belongs to their notion of an
Action, that it is something wherein is no passion or passive-
ness ; that is, (according to their sense of passiveness,) it is
under the power, influence, or Action of no cause. And this
implies, that Action has no cause, and is no effect ; for to
be an effect implies passiveness, or the being subject to the
power and Action of its cause. And yet they hold, that
the mind's Action is the effect of its own determination,
yea, the mind's free and voluntary determination ; which
is the same with free choice. So that Action is the effect
of something preceding, even a preceding act of choice :
and consequently, in this effect the mind is passive, sub
ject to the power and Action of the preceding cause, which
is the foregoing choice, and therefore cannot be active. So
that here we have this contradiction, that Action is always
the effect of foregoing choice ; and therefore cannot be Ac
tion ; because it is passive to the power of that preceding
causal choice ; and the mind cannot be active and passive
in the same thing, at the same time. Again they say, ne
cessity is utterly inconsistent with Action, and a necessary
Action is a contradiction ; and so their notion of Action
implies contingence, and excludes all necessity. And
therefore, their notion of Action implies, that it has no
necessary dependence on, or connexion with, any thing
foregoing ; for such a dependence or connexion excludes
contingence, and implies necessity. And yet their notion
of Action implies necessity, and supposes that it is neces
sary, and cannot be contingent. For they suppose, that
whatever is properly called Action, must be determined by
the Will and free choice ; and this is as much as to say, that
it must be necessary, being dependent upon, and deter
mined by, something foregoing ; namely, a foregoing act of
choice. Again, it belongs to their notion of Action, that
it is the beginning of motion, or of exertion of power ; but
yet it is implied in their notion of Action, that it is not the
out which there could be no assignable ground of certainty that any action
would be morally good. There is also a necessity of connexion, arising
from the nature of things, or the essence of truth, first between the disposi
tion and the act, or that the act will be of the same nature, morally con
sidered, with the disposition from which it proceeds; and, secondly, be
tween the act and the end, or consequent, which is happiness.
3. It is moreover allowed, that in all acts morally evil, the soul is passive
in reference to that necessity of dependence wbich is inseparable from a
created nature, which may be called passive power ; without which the
existence of moral evil would be impossible. This necessity also arises
from the nature of things, not from decree ; for no decree can alter its
existence, (though it may, and actually does, counteract it,) any more than
it can alter the state of a creature from dependence into independence on
the first cause. A creature without passive power involves the most palpa
ble absurdities. For its very definition is, " that property in a creature
whereby it differs essentially from the independence, selfsufficience, and
indefectibility of the Creator ;" and to deny it, is to suppose that a creature
may be independent, self-sufficient, and indefectible— that in these respects
the creature and the Creator are on a par — that a necessary and a contin
gent being are the same, in those very thingswhich constitute their essen
tial difference ! Were it not for this property in an agent, he could never
sin ; for all his acts would be physically necessary, without any hypotheti
cal medium, or moral alternative.
4. He is a moral agent, whose volitions might have been otherwise than
they are, if the motives, and consequently the state of his mind, had been
otherwise. But to suppose that his volitions might 'have been otherwise
than they are, the motives and state of the mind being the same, would be
to make him in his volitions the sport.of chance, or a mere non-entity.
5. lie then is a moral agent who has, in reference to volition, a moral
alternative, or a hypothetical possibility of a different choice. Where this
alternative, or this possibility, is not, there the agent (if he may be so call
ed) is not morally obliged, and therefore is not accountable.
o. But if so, where dees the ground of such an alternative He ? It lies in
the agent's mind, or the disposition whence the volition springs, and whence
its character is derived. If God influence the mind so as to make it, in a
given degree, to resemble his own moral nature ; in that degree would the
choice made be morally good. But if passive power be not counteracted
by such influence, (which Deing gracious, God is not boiindinegtMfytodo,)
in any given degree, the nature of things, the essence of truth ; connects, in
a corresponding decree, the state of mind with the volition.
7. Hence it is plain, that mo ml in flu ence, as such, effects nothing certain ;
but always requires a previous state of mind, in order to insure a certninty
of good effect ; and that previous state of mind iseffected by no other possible
means but a physical energy or agency, producing assimilation. There
must be a virtuous mind before a virtuous choice ; the quality of the act is
derived from the agent.
8. One thing, which has been a source of much obscurity and confusion in
"reference to moral agency, is the supposition that the mind is equally free,
in all respects, when choosing good and when choosing evil ; in other words,
that the one volition and the other becomes morally certain, from the same
sort of necessity. But this is not the real case. Indeed the necessity of
connexion between the previous state of the mind and the corresponding
volition, is the same ; for it is, in each case, nothing else but the nature of
things ; but that necessity which effects a state of mind previous to good
volitions, is as different from the other necessity which effects a state of mind
previous to volitions morally evil , as light is from darkness. They proceed
from opposite quarters, and operate in contrary directions. A holy disposi
tion is generated by decretive holy influence ; the other disposition (which

beginning of motion or exertion of power, but is conse
quent and dependent on a preceding exertion of power,
viz. the power of Will and choice : for they say there is
no proper Action but what is freely chosen ; or, which is
the same thing, determined by a foregoing act of free choice.
But if any of them shall see cause to deny this, and say
they hold no such thing as that every Action is chosen or
determined by a foregoing choice; but that the very first
exertion of Will only, undetermined by any preceding act,
is properly called Action ; then I say, such a man's notion
of Action implies necessity ; for what the mind is the sub
ject of, without the determination of its own previous
choice, it is the subject of necessarily, as to any hand that
free choice has in the affair; and without any ability the
mind has to prevent it, by any will or election of its own ;
because by the supposition it precludes all previous acts of
the Will or choice in the case, which might prevent it. So
that it is again, in this other way, implied in their notion of
act, that it is both necessary and not necessary. Again it
belongs to their notion of an act, that it is no effect of a
predetermining bias or preponderation, but springs immedi
ately out of indifference ; and this implies, that it cannot
be from foregoing choice, which is foregoing prepondera
tion : if it be not habitual, but occasional, yet if it causes
the act, it is truly previous, efficacious, and determining.
And yet, at the same time, it is essential to their notion of
the act, that it is what the agent is the author of freely
and voluntarily, and that is, by previous choice and.
design. So that, according to their notion of the act, considered
with regard to its consequences, these following things are
all essential to it; viz. That it should be necessary, and
not necessary ; that it should be from a cause, and no
cause ; that it should be the fruit of choice and design,
and not the fruit of choice and design ; that it should be
the beginning of motion or exertion, and yet consequent
on previous exertion ; that it should be before it is ; that
it should spring immediately out of indifference and equi
librium, and vet be the effect of preponderation; that it
should be self-originated, and also have its original from
ought not however to be called unholy J proceeds from the hypothetical
nature of things. Such a disposition, though not morally vicious, yet gene
rates vice in union with free agency.
9. It is highly worthy of remark, that though a good volition must proceed
from a good heart, morally considered ; yet a bad volition does not, origi
nally and necessarily, proceed from a morally bad heart. The reason isr
that the one state of heart proceeds from God, from his decretive holy will ;
the other proceeds from passive power, which is only a natural evil, and
not a moral. Besides, were the disposition which immediately precedes a
bad volition necessarily, or in every case, evil, in a moral sense, either
moral evil could have no place at all in the universe, no origin whatever, or
else it must be the same as passive power. But passive power is a con
trast, not to the moral perfections of God, but his1 natural ; and has, when
alone, no moral quality. And, seeing it belongs as a property to every
creature, as such, were it any thing morally evil, moral evil would be essen
tial to the very being of every creature ; which is absurd.
10. Hence it is plain, that freedom is experienced in a higher sense, or a
greater degree, in bad volitions, than in good ones ; in such a sense, and to
such a degree, as to justify this mode of expression . That man is necessi
tated to good, but free to evil. This however may need some explanatory
qualification ; for he is not so necessitated to good, as not to be morally or
hypothetically free ; nor so free to evil as not to be subject to a necessity of
consequence. He who acts or chooses amiss without constraint, compul
sion, or interfering voluntary force in that act, notwithstanding his passive
power, is properly a free agent ; for in the moral quality of the act, there
is properly and strictly no will concerned but his own. But he who acts or
chooses aright, is subject to a physical, decretive necessity, as to his dispo
sition and a physical concourse of divine energy in the natural act of the will.
He is indeed morally free, inasmuch as his volition might have been of a
different, yea, of an opposite moral quality, if the state of his mind had
been different. Hence it is evident, that in a good will, choice, or act, man
is an agent in a less proper or secondary sense ; but in a bad will, choice,
or act, man is an agent, a moral agent, a free agent, in the most proper and
strict sense. And in the production of an act morally good two wills are
concerned, that of the agent, and the decretive will or God ; in that of evil,
only one, the agent's own will.
11. If the Supreme Being is the only proper agent in the universe, either
moral agency is no proper agency, or else man is not a moral agent ; and
if so, he is not accountable, and has no concern in religion or morals. Be
sides, if God be the only proper agent in the universe, how come there to
exist evil deeds ? God's agency is good, else we have no evidence that he is
a good being ; but there are in the world evil deeds proceeding from evil
minds, which common sense and universal consent allow, and the nature of
the thing proves, to be properly evil agencies; consequently man is au
agent, a moral agent, properly so called.
12. If there be no proper agent in the universe but the Supreme Being,
there is no evil in the nature of bad volitions, but only in their effects. Sin,
on that supposition, is not had in its own nature, but only injurious in its
effects on the sinner. Sin is not to be hated, it seems, on its own account, as
odious, but only shunned as dangerous. But as this must arise, according
to the system of its abettors, from a sovereign appointment, it follows, that
millions of beings are by this very appointment, doomed to the greatest
sufferings in tbe universe* for that in which they had no proper agency-
no possible alternative ! Where is equity, or benevolence ?
13. The only clue out of this labyrinth, and out of many others formed by
writers on human agency, is, we are fully persuaded, a right view of passive
power, in its nature, origin, and tendency, in conjunction with a morally or
hypothetically free choice. — W, __.

62

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

something else ; that it is what the mind causes itself, of
its own will, and can produce or prevent, according to its
choice or pleasure, and >et what the mind has no power
to prevent, precluding all previous choice in the affair.
So that an act according to their metaphysical notion of
it, is something of which there is no idea; it is nothing
but a confusion of the mind, excited by words without
any distinct meaning, and is an absolute non-entity ; and
that in two respects : (1.) There is nothing in the world that
ever was, is, or can be, to answer the things which must
belong to its description, according to what they suppose
to be essential to it. And, (2.) There neither is, nor ever
was, nor can be, any notion or idea to answer the word, as
they use and explain it. For if we should suppose any
such notion, it would many ways destroy itself. But it is
impossible any idea or notion should subsist in the mind,
whose very nature and essence, which constitutes it, de
stroys it. — If some learned philosopher, who had been
abroad, in giving an account of the curious observations he
had made in his travels, should say, " He had been in
Terra del Fuego, and there had seen an animal, which he
calls by a certain name, that begat and brought forth it
self, and yet had a sire and dam distinct from itself ; that
it had an appetite, and was hungry before it had a being ;
that his master, who led him, and governed him at his
pleasure, was always governed by him, and driven by him
where he pleased ; that when he moved, he always took a
step before the first step ; that he went with his head first,
and yet always went tail foremost ; and this, though he
had neither head nor tail :" it would be no impudence at
all, to tell such a traveller, though a learned man, that he
himself had no idea of such an animal as he gave an ac
count of, and never had, nor ever would have.
As the forementioned notion of Action is very incon
sistent, so it is wholly diverse from the original meaning of
the word. The more usual signification of it, in vulgar
speech, seems to be some motion or exertion of power, that
is voluntary, or that is the effect of the Will'; and is used
in the same sense as doing : and most commonly it is used
to signify outward Actions. So thinking is often distin
guished from acting; and desiring and willing, from
doing. Besides this more usual and proper signification of the
word Action, there are other ways in which the word is
used, that are less proper, which yet have place in com
mon speech. Oftentimes it is used to signify some mo
tion or alteration in inanimate things, with relation to some
object and effect. So the spring of a watch is said to act
upon the chain and wheels ; the sun-beams, to act upon
plants and trees : and the fire, to act upon wood. Some
times, the word is used to signify motions, alterations, and
exertions of power, which are seen in corporeal things, con
sidered absolutely ; especially when these motions seem to
arise from some internal cause which is hidden; so that
they have a greater resemblance of those motions of our
bodies, which are the effects of natural volition, or invisible
exertions of Will. So the fermentation of liquor, the opera
tions of the loadstone, and of electrical bodies, are called
the Action of these things. And sometimes the word Ac
tion is used to signify the exercise of thought, or of Will
and inclination : so meditating, loving, hating, inclining,
disinclining, choosing, and refusing, may be sometimes
called acting ; though more rarely (unless it be by philo
sophers and metaphysicians) than in any of the other senses.
But the word is never used in vulgar speech for the
self-determinate exercise of the Will, or an exertion of the
soul that arises without any necessary connexion with any
thing foregoing. If a man does something voluntarily, or
as the effect of his choice, then in the most proper sense,
and as the word is most originally and commonly used, he
is said to act ; but whether that choice or volition be self-
determined, or no, whether it be connected with a fore
going habitual bias, whether it be the certain effect of the
strongest motive, or some intrinsic cause, never comes into
consideration in the meaning of the word.
* This distinction is of considerable moment. The soul is passive, for
instance, in reference to that necessity of dependence which is inseparable
from a created nature ; and when the subject of providential energy in
natural acts ; and also when the subject of that divine influence which pu
rifies and enables the mind, and whereby holy effects are secured ; and in
all these respects it is passive at the very time that i t is ac live in i ts choice

And if the word Action is arbitrarily used by some men
otherwise, to suit some scheme of metaphysics or morality,
no argument can reasonably^be founded on such an use of
this term, to prove any thing but their own pleasure. For
divines and philosophers strenuously to urge such argu
ments, as though they were sufficient to support and de
monstrate a whole scheme of moral philosophy and di
vinity, is certainly to erect a mighty edifice on the sand,
or rather on a shadow. And though it may now perhaps,
through custom, have become natural for them to use the
word in this sense, (if that may be called a sense or mean
ing, which is inconsistent with itself,) yet this does not prove,
that it is agreeable to the natural notions men have of
things, or that there can be any thing in the creation that
should answer such a meaning. And though they appeal
to experience, yet the truth is, that men are so far from ex
periencing any such thing, that it is impossible for them to
have any conception of it.
If it should be objected, that Action and Passion are
doubtless words of a contrary signification ; but to suppose
that the agent, in its Action, is under the power and influ
ence of something intrinsic, is to confound Action and
passion, and make them the same thing.
I answer, that Action and Passion are doubtless, as they
are sometimes used, words of opposite signification; but
not as signifying opposite existences, but only opposite re
lations. The words cause and effect are terms of opposite
signification ; but, nevertheless, if I assert, that the same
thing may, at the same time, in different respects and re
lations, be both cause and effect, this will not prove that I
confound the terms. The soul may be both active and
passive in the same thing in different respects ; active with
relation to one thing, and passive with relation to another.*
The word Passion, when set in opposition to Action, or
rather activeness, is merely a relative : it signifies no effector
cause, nor any proper existence; but is the same with
Passiveness, or a being passive, or a being acted upon by
some thing. Which is a mere relation of a thing to some
power or force exerted by some cause, producing some
effect in it, or upon it. And Action, when set properly in
opposition to Passitm, or Passiveness, is no real existence ;
it is not the same with AN Action, but is a mere relation :
it is the activeness of something on another thing, being
the opposite relation to the other, viz. a relation of power,
or force, exerted by some cause, towards another thing,
which is the subject of the effect of that power. Indeed,
the word Action is frequently used to signify something
not merely relative, but more absolute, and a real existence ;
as when we say an Action; when the word is not used
transitively, but absolutely, for some motion or exercise of
body or mind, without any relation to any object or effect:
and as used thus, it is not properly the opposite of Pas
sion ; which ordinarily signifies nothing absolute, but
merely the relation of being acted upon. And therefore if
the word Action be used in the like relative sense, then
Action and Passion are only two contrary relations. And
it is no absurdity to suppose, that contrary relations may
belong to the same thing at the same time, with respect to
different things. So to suppose, that there are acts of the
soul by which a man voluntarily moves, and acts upon ob
jects, and produces effects, which yet themselves are effects
of something else, and wherein the soul itself is the object
of something acting upon, and influencing that, do not at
all confound Action and Passion. The words may never-
less be properly of opposite signification : there mav be as
true and real a difference between acting and being' caused
to act, though we should suppose the soul to be both in
the same volition, as there is between living and being
quickened, or made to live. It is no more a contradiction,
to suppose that Action may be the effect of some other
cause, besides the agent, or being that acts, than to sup
pose, that life may be the effect of some other cause, be
sides the being that lives.
What has led men into this inconsistent notion of
Action, when applied to volition— as though it were essen-
or preference. In other words, the mind is necessitated in some respects ;
as, to exist, to think, to will, to suffer, or to enjoy ; at the same instant that
ltis/reein other respects, as, from contingence, (understandins therebvad
event without any cause,) and from compulsion, at physical necessity in its
acts as moral. ~— w .

Sect. III.

CALVINISM NOT AGAINST COMMON SENSE.

63

tial to this internal Action, that the agent should be self-
determined in it, and that the Will should be the cause of
it — was probably this ; that according to the sense of man
kind, and the common use of language, it is so, with
respect to men's external Actions ; which originally, and
according to the vulgar use and most proper sense of the
word, are called Actions. Men in these are self-directed,
self-determined, and their Wills are the cause of the mo
tions of their bodies, and external things done ; so that
unless men do them voluntarily, and of choice, and the
Action be determined by their antecedent volition, it is no
Action or doing of theirs. Hence some metaphysicians
have been led unwarily, but exceeding absurdly, to sup
pose the same concerning volition itself, that that also must
be determined by the Will ; which is to be determined by
antecedent volition, as the motion of the body is ; not con
sidering the contradiction it implies.
But it is very evident, that in the metaphysical distinc
tion between Action and passion (though long since be
come common and in general vogue) due care has not been
taken to conform language to the nature of things, or to any
distinct clear ideas. As it is in innumerable other philo
sophical metaphysical terms, used in these disputes; which
has occasioned inexpressible difficulty, contention, error,
and confusion.
And thus probably it came to be thought, that necessity
was inconsistent with Action, as these terms are applied
to volition. First, these terms Action and necessity are
changed from their original meaning, as signifying external
voluntary Action and constraint (in which meaning they
are evidently inconsistent) to signify quite other things,
viz. volition itself, and certainty of existence. And when
the change of signification is made, care is not taken to
make proper allowances and abatements for the difference
of sense ; but still the same things are unwarily attributed
to Action and necessity, in the new meaning of the words,
which plainly belonged to them in their first sense ; and
on this ground, maxims are established without any real
foundation, as though they were the most certain truths,
and the most evident dictates of reason.
But however strenuously it is maintained, that what is
necessary cannot be properly called Action, and that a
necessary Action is a contradiction, yet it is probable there
are few Arminian divines, who thoroughly tried, would
stand to these principles. They will allow, that God is,
in the highest sense, an active Being, and the highest
Fountain of life and Action ; and they would not pro
bably deny, that what are called God's acts of righteous
ness, holiness, and faithfulness, are truly and properly God's
acts, and God is really a holy Agent in them ; and yet,
I trust, they will not deny, that God necessarily acts
justly and faithfully, and that it is impossible for him to
act unrighteously and unholily.

SECT. III.
The reasons why some think it contrary to common Sense,
to suppose those things which are necessary to be worthy
of either Praise or Blame.
It is abundantly affirmed and urged by Arminian
writers, that it is contrary to common Sense, and the natural
notions and apprehensions of mankind, to suppose other
wise than that necessity (making no distinction between
natural and moral necessity) is inconsistent with Virtue
and Vice, Praise and Blame, Reward and Punishment.
And their arguments from hence have been greatly triumph
ed in ; and nave been not a little perplexing to many, who
have been friendly to the truth, as clearly revealed in the
Holy Scriptures : it has seemed to them indeed difficult, to
reconcile Calvinistic doctrines with the notions men com
monly have of justice and equity. The true reasons of it
seem to be the following :
I. It is indeed a very plain dictate of common Sense,
that natural necessity is wholly inconsistent with just
Praise or Blame. If men do tilings which in themselves
are very good, fit to be brought to pass, and attended with
very happy effects, properlv against their Wills; or do them
from a necessity that is without their Wills, or with which

their Wills have no concern or connexion ; then it is a plain
dictate of common Sense, that such doings are none of
their virtue, nor have they any moral good'_n them; and
that the persons are not worthy to be rewarded or praised ;
or at all esteemed, honoured, or loved, on that account.
And, on the other hand, that if, from like necessity, they do
those things which in themselves are very unhappy and
pernicious, and do them because they cannot help it ; the
necessity is such, that it is all one whether they will them,
or no ; and the reason why they are done, is from necessity
only, and not from their Wills ; it is a very plain dictate
of common Sense, that they are not at all to blame ; there
is no vice, fault, or moral evil at all in the effect done ; nor
are they, who are thus necessitated, in any wise worthy to
be punished, hated, or in the least disrespected, on that
account. In like manner, if things in themselves good and desir
able are absolutely impossible, with a natural impossibility,
the universal reason of mankind teaches, that this wholly
and perfectly excuses persons in their not doing them.
And it is also a plain dictate of common Sense, that if
doing things, in themselves good, or avoiding things in
themselves evil, is not absolutely impossible, with such a
natural impossibility, but very difficult, with a natural
difficulty ; that is, a difficulty prior to, and not at all con
sisting in, Will and inclination itself, and which would re
main the same, let the inclination be what it will ; then a
person's neglect or omission is excused in some mea
sure, though not wholly; his sin is less aggravated,
than if the thing to be done were easy. And if instead
of difficulty and hinderance, there be a contrary natural
propensity in the state of things, to the thing to be done,
or effect to be brought to pass, abstracted from any con
sideration of the inclination of the heart ; though the pro
pensity be not so great as to amount to a natural necessity ;
yet being some approach to it, so that the doing of the good
thing be very much from this natural tendency in the state
of things, and but little from a good inclination ; then it is
a dictate of common Sense, that there is so much the less
virtue in what is done ; and so it is less praiseworthy and
rewardable. The reason is easy, viz. because such a
natural propensity or tendency is an approach to natural
necessity; and the greater the propensity, still so much
the nearer is the approach to necessity. And, therefore, as
natural necessity takes away or shuts out all virtue, so this
propensity approaches to an abolition of virtue ; that is, it
diminishes it. And on the other hand, natural difficulty, in
the state of things, is an approach to natural impossibility.
And as the latter, when it is complete and absolute,
wholly takes away Blame; so such difficulty takes away
some Blame, or diminishes Blame; and makes the thing
done to be less worthy of punishment.
II. Men, in their first use of such phrases as these, must,
cannot, cannot help it, cannot avoid it, necessary, unable,
impossible, unavoidable, irresistible, Sfc. use them to signify
a necessity of constraint or restraint, a natural necessity or
impossibility ; or some necessity that the Will has nothing
to do in ; which may be, whether men will or no ; and
which may be supposed to be just the same, let men's in
clinations and desires be what they will. Such kind of
terms in their original use, I suppose among all nations,
are relative ; carrying in their signification (as was before
observed) a reference or respect to some contrary Will,
desire, or endeavour, which, it is supposed, is, or may be,
in the case. All men find, and begin to find in early child
hood, that there are innumerable things that cannot be
done, which they desire to do ; and innumerable things,
which they are averse to, that must be, they cannot avoid
them, they will be, whether they choose them or no. It is
to express this necessity, which men so soon and so often
find, and which so greatly and early affects them in in
numerable cases, that such terms and phrases are first
formed ; and it is to signify such a necessity, that they are
first used, and that they are most constantly used, in the
common affairs of life ; and not to signify any such meta
physical, speculative, and abstract notion, as that connexion
in the nature or course of things, which is between the
subject and predicative of a proposition, and which is the
foundation of the certain truth of that proposition; to
signify which, they who employ themselves in philosophi-

64

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

cal inquiries into the first origin and metaphysical relations
and dependences of things, have borrowed these terms, for
want of otherl. But we grow up from our cradles in the
use of terms and phrases entirely different from this, and
carrying a sense exceeding diverse from that in which they
are commonly used in the controversy between Arminians
and Calvinists. And it being, as was said before, a dictate
of the universal sense of mankind, evident to us as soon
as we begin to think, that the necessity signified by these
terms, in the sense in which we first learn them, does ex
cuse persons, and free them from all Fault or Blame ;
hence our ideas of excusableness or faultlessness is tied
to these terms and phrases by a strong habit, which is
begun in childhood, as soon as we begin to speak, and
grows up with us, and is strengthened by constant use
and custom, the connexion growing stronger and stronger.
The habitual connexion, which is in men's minds be
tween Blamelessness and those forementioned terms, must,
cannot, unable, necessary, impossible, unavoidable, fyc. be
comes very strong, because, as soon as ever men begin to
use reason and speech, they have occasion to excuse them
selves, from the natural necessity signified by these terms,
in numerous instances. — I cannot do it — I could not help
it — And all mankind have constant and daily occasion to
use such phrases in this sense, to excuse themselves and
others, in almost all the concerns of life, with respect to
disappointments, and things that happen, which concern
and affect ourselves and others, that are hurtful, or dis
agreeable to us or them, or things desirable, that we or
others fail to obtain.
That our being accustomed to an union of different
ideas, from early childhood, makes the habitual connexion
exceeding strong, as though such connexion were owing to
nature, is manifest in innumerable instances. It is alto
gether by such an habitual connexion of ideas, that men
judge of the bigness or distance of the objects of sight,
from their appearance. Thus it is owing to such a con
nexion early established, and growing up with a person,
that he judges a mountain, which he sees at ten miles dis
tance, to be bigger than his nose, or further off than the
end of it. Having been used so long to join a consider
able distance and magnitude with such an appearance,
men imagine it is by a dictate of natural sense : whereas,
it would be quite otherwise with one that had his eyes
newly opened, who had been born blind : he would have
the same visible appearance, but natural sense would dic
tate no such thing, concerning the magnitude or distance
of what appeared.
III. When men, after they had been so habituated to
connect ideas of Innocency or Blamelessness with such
terms, that the union seems to be the effect of mere na
ture, come to hear the same terms used, and learn to use
them in the forementioned new and metaphysical sense,
to signify quite another sort of necessity, which has no
such kind of relation to a contrary supposable Will and
endeavour ; the notion of plain and manifest Blameless
ness, by this means, is, by a strong prejudice, insensibly
and unwarily transferred to a case to which it by no means
belongs : the change of the use of the terms, to a significa
tion which is very diverse, not being taken notice of, or
adverted to. And there are several reasons why it is not.
1. The terms, as used by philosophers, are not very
distinct and clear in their meaning : few use them in a
fixed determinate sense. On the contrary, their meaning
is very vague and confused. Which commonly happens
to the words used to signify things intellectual and moral,
and to express what Mr. Locke calls mixt modes. If men
had a clear and distinct understanding of what is intended
by these metaphysical terms, they would be able more
easily to compare them with their original and common
sense; and so would not be easily led into delusion by
words of this sort.
2. The change of the signification of terms is the more
insensible, because the things signified, though indeed
very different, yet do in some generals agree. In necessity,
that which is vulgarly so called, there is a strong con
nexion between the thing said to be necessary, and some
thing antecedent to it, in the order of nature ; so there is
also a philosophical necessity. And though in both kinds
of necessity, the connexion cannot be called by that name,

with relation to an opposite Will or endeavour, to which
it is superior ; which is the case in vulgar necessity ; yet
in both, the connexion is prior to Will and endeavour,
and so, in some respect, superior. In both kinds of ne
cessity, there is a foundation for some certainty of the
proposition, that affirms the event  The terms used being
the same, and the things signified agreeing in these and
some other general circumstances, and the expressions as
used by philosophers being not well defined, and so of
obscure and loose signification; hence persons are not
aware of the great difference ; the notions of innocence or
faultiness, which were so strongly associated with them,
and were strictly united in their minds, ever since they can
remember, remain united with them still, as if the union
were altogether natural and necessary ; and they that go
about to make a separation, seem to them to do great
violence even to nature itself.
IV. Another reason why it appears difficult to reconcile
it with reason, that men should be blamed for that which
is necessary, with a moral necessity, (which, as was ob
served before, is a species of philosophical necessity) is,
that for want of due consideration, men inwardly entertain
that apprehension, that this necessity may be against men's
Wills and sincere endeavours. They go away with that
no'ion, that men may truly will, and wish, and strive that
it may be otherwise ; but that invincible necessity stands
in the way. And many think thus concerning themselves :
some wicked men think they wish that they were good,
and that they loved God and holiness ; but yet do not find
that their wishes produce the effect. — The reasons why
men think thus, are as follow :
1. They find what may be called an indirect willingness
to have a better Will, in the manner before observed. For
it is impossible, and a contradiction to suppose the Will to
be directly and properly against itself. And they do not
consider that this indirect willingness is entirely a "different
thing from properly willing what is the duty and virtue
required ; and that there is no virtue in that sort of willing
ness which they have. They do not consider, that the
volitions, which a wicked man may have that he loved
God, are no acts of the Will at all against the moral evil
of not loving God; but only some disagreeable conse
quences. But the making of the requisite distinction re
quires more care of reflection and thought, than most men
are used to. And men, through a prejudice in their own
favour, are disposed to think well of their own desires and
dispositions, and to account them good and virtuous,
though their respect to virtue be only indirect and remote,
and it is nothing at all virtuous that truly excites or ter
minates their inclinations.
2. Another thing that insensibly leads and beguiles men
into a supposition that this moral necessity or impossibility
is, or may be, against men's Wills and true endeavours,: is
the derivation of the terms often used to express it. Such
words for instance, as unable, unavoidable, impossible, irre
sistible; which carry a plain reference to a supposable
power exerted, endeavours used, resistance made, in oppo
sition to the necessity : and the persons that hear them,
not considering, nor suspecting, but that they are used in
their proper sense : that sense being therefore understood,
there does naturally, and as it were necessarily, arise in
their minds a supposition, that it may be so indeed, that
true desires and endeavours may take place, but that
invincible necessity stands in the way, and renders them
vain and to no effect.
V. Another thing which makes persons more ready to
suppose it to be contrary to reason, that men should be
exposed to the punishments threatened to sin, for doing
those things which are morally necessary, or not doing
those things which are morally impossible, is, that imagi
nation strengthens the argument, and adds greatly to the
power and influence of the seeming reasons against it,
from the greatness of that punishment. To allow that, they
may be justly exposed to a small punishment, would not
be so difficult. Whereas, if there were any good reason in
the case, if it were truly a dictate of reason, that such ne
cessity was inconsistent with faultiness, or just punish
ment, the demonstration would be equally certain with
respect to a small punishment, or any punishment at all,
as a very great one : but it is not equally easy to the

Sect. IV.

NECESSARY VIRTUE AGREEABLE TO COMMON SENSE.

imagination. They that argue against the justice of damn
ing men for those things that are thus necessary, seem to
make their argument the stronger, by setting forth the
greatness of the punishment in strong expressions : —
" That a man should be cast into eternal burnings, that he
should be made to fry in hell to all eternity, for those things
which he had no power to avoid, and was under a fatal,
unfrustrable, invincible necessity of doing," &c.

SECT. IV.
It is agreeable to common sense, and the natural notions of
mankind, to suppose moral Necessity to be consistent with
Praise and Blame, Reward and Punishment.
Whether the reasons, that have been given, why it ap
pears difficult to some persons, to reconcile with common
sense the praising or blaming, rewarding or punishing,
those things which are morally necessary, are thought satis
factory, or not ; yet it most evidently appears, by the fol
lowing things, that if this matter be rightly understood,
setting aside all delusion arising from the impropriety and
ambiguity of terms, this is not at all inconsistent with the
natural apprehensions of mankind, and that sense of things
which is found every where in the common people ; who
are furthest from having their thoughts perverted from their
natural channel, by metaphysical and philosophical subtil-
ties ; but, on the contrary, altogether agreeable to, and the
very voice and dictate of, this natural and vulgar sense.
I. This will appear, if we consider what the vulgar no
tion of blameworthiness is. The idea which the common
people, through all ages and nations, have of faultiness, I
suppose to be plainly this ; a person being or doing wrong,
with his own will and pleasure ; containing these two things :
1. His doing wrong, when he does as he pleases. 2. His
pleasure being wrong. Or, in other words, perhaps more
intelligibly expressing their notion ; a person having his
heart wrong, and doing wrong from his lieart. And this is
the sum total of the matter.
The common people do not ascend up in their reflections
and abstractions to the metaphysical sources, relations, and
dependences of things, in order to form their notion of
faultiness or blameworthiness. They do not wait till they
have decided by their refinings, what first determines the
Will ; whether it be determined by something extrinsic, or
intrinsic ; whether volition determines volition, or whether
the understanding determines the Will ; whether there be
any such thing as metaphysicians mean by contingence (if
they have any meaning); whether there be a sort of a
strange unaccountable sovereignty in the Will, in the ex
ercise of which, by its own sovereign acts, it brings to pass
all its own sovereign acts. They do not take any part of
their notion of Fault or Blame from the resolution of any
such questions. If this were the case, there are multitudes,
yea the far greater part of mankind, nine hundred and
ninety-nine out of a thousand, would live and die, with
out having any such notion, as that of Fault, ever entering
into their heads, or without so much as once having any
conception that any body was to be either blamed or com
mended for any thing. If this were the case, it would be
a long time before men came to have such notions. Where
as it is manifest, they are in fact some of the first notions
that appear in children ; who discover, as soon as they can
think, or speak, or act at all as rational creatures, a sense
of desert. And, certainly, in forming their notion of it,
they make no use of metaphysics. All the ground they
go upon, consists in these two things : experience and a
natural sensation of a certain fitness or agreeableness, which
there is in uniting such moral evil as is above described,
viz. a being or doing wrong with the Will, and resentment
in others, and pain inflicted on the person in whom this
moral evil is. Which natural sense is what we call by the
name of conscience-
It is true, the common people and children, in their
notion of any faulty act or deed, of any person, do sup
pose that it is the person's own act and deed. But this is
* It is here argued, on supposition that not all propensity implies moral
VOL. I. !•'

all that belongs to what they understand by a thing being
a person's own deed or action ; even that it is something
done by him of choice. That some exercise or motion
should begin of itself, does not belong to their notion of
an action, or doing. If so, it would belong to their notion
of it, that it is the cause of its own beginning : and that
is as much as to say, that it is before it begins to be. Nor
is their notion of an action some motion or exercise, that
begins accidentally, without any cause or reason ; for that
is contrary to one of the prime dictates of common sense,
namely, that every thing that begins to be, has some cause
or reason why it is.
The common people, in their notion of a faulty or praise
worthy work done by any one, do suppose, that the man
does it in the exercise of liberty.. But then their notion of
liberty is only a person having opportunity of doing as he
pleases. They have no notion of liberty consisting in the
Will first acting, and so causing its own acts ; determin
ing, and so causing its own determinations ; or choosing,
and so causing its own choice. Such a notion of liberty
is what none have, but those that have darkened their own
minds with confused metaphysical speculation, and ab
struse and ambiguous terms, if a man is not restrained
from acting as his Will determines, or constrained to act
otherwise ; then he has liberty, according to common no
tions of liberty, without taking into the idea that grand
contradiction of all, the determinations of a man's free Will
being the effects of the determinations of his free Will. —
Nor have men commonly any notion of freedom consist
ing in indifference. For if so, then it would be agreeable
to their notion, that the greater indifference men act with,
the more freedom they act with ; whereas, the reverse is
true. He that in acting proceeds with the fullest inclina
tion, does what he does with the greatest freedom, accord
ing to common sense. And so far is it from being agree
able to common sense, that such liberty as consists in
indifference is requisite to Praise or Blame, that, on the
contrary, the dictate of every man's natural sense through
the world is, that the further he is from being indifferent
in his acting good or evil, and the more he does either with
full and strong inclination, the more is he esteemed or ab
horred, commended or condemned.
II. If it were inconsistent with the common sense of
mankind, that men should be either blamed or commended
in any volitions, in case of moral Necessitv or impossi
bility ; then it would surely also be agreeable to the same
sense and reason of mankind, that the nearer the case ap
proaches to such a moral Necessity or impossibility —
either through a strong antecedent moral propensity, on tho
one hand,* or a great antecedent opposition and difficulty,
on the other — the nearer does it approach to a person being
neither blamable nor commendable ; so that acts exerted
with such preceding propensity, would be worthy of pro
portionably less Praise ; and when omitted, the act being
attended with such difficulty, the omission would be
worthy of the less Blame. It is so, as was observed be
fore, with natural Necessitv and impossibility, propensity
and difficulty : as it is a plain dictate of the sense of all
mankind, that natural Necessity and impossibility take
away all Blame and Praise ; and therefore, that the nearer
the approach is to these, through previous propensity or
difficulty, so Praise and Blame are proportionably dimin
ished. And if it were as much a dictate of common sense,
that moral Necessity of doing, or impossibility of avoiding,
takes away all Praise and Blame, as that natural Necessity
or impossibility does ; then, by a perfect parity of reason,
it would be as much the dictate of common sense, that an
approach of moral Necessity of doing, or impossibility of
avoiding, diminishes Praise and Blame, as that an approach
to natural Necessity and impossibility does so. It is
equally the voice of common sense, that persons are ex
cusable in part, in neglecting things difficult against their
Wills, as that they are excusable wholly in neglecting things
impossible against their Wills. And if it made no differ
ence, whether the impossibility were natural and against
the Will, or moral, lying in the Will, with regard to excus-
ableness ; so neither would it make any difference,
whether the difficulty, or approach to Necessity, be natural,
necessity, but only some very tiigh degree; which none will deny.

66

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

against the Will, or moral, lying in the propensity of the
Will. But it is apparent, that the reverse of these things is true.
If there be an approach to a moral Necessity in a man's
exertion of good acts of Will, they being the exercise of
a strong propensity to good, and a very powerful love to
virtue; it is so far from being the dictate of common
sense, that he is less virtuous, and the less to be esteemed,
loved, and praised ; that it is agreeable to the natural
notions of all mankind, that he is so much the better man,
worthy of greater respect, and higher commendation.
And the stronger the inclination is, and the nearer it ap
proaches to Necessity in that respect ; or to impossibility
of neglecting the virtuous act, or of doing a vicious one ;
still the more virtuous, and worthy of higher commenda
tion. And, on the other hand, if a man exerts evil acts
of mind ; as, for instance, acts of pride or malice from a
rooted and strong habit or principle of haughtiness and
maliciousness, and a violent propensity of heart to such
acts ; according to the natural sense of men, he is so far
from being the less hateful and blamable on that account,
that he is so much the more worthy to be detested and
condemned, by all that observe him.
Moreover, it is manifest that it is no part of the notion,
which mankind commonly have of a blamable or praise
worthy act of the Will, that it is an act which is not de
termined by an antecedent bias or motive, but by the
sovereign power of the Will itself; because, if so, the
greater hand such causes have in determining any acts of
the Will, so much the less virtuous or vicious would they
be accounted ; and the less hand, the more virtuous or
vicious. Whereas, the reverse is true ; men do not think
a good act to be the less praiseworthy, for the agent being
much determined in it by a good inclination or a good
motive, but the more. And if good inclination, or motive,
has but little influence in determining the agent, they do
not think his act so much the more virtuous, but the less.
And so concerning evil acts, which are determined by
evil motives or inclinations.
Yea, if it be supposed, that good or evil dispositions
are implanted in the hearts of men, by nature itself, (which,
it is certain, is vulgarly supposed in innumerable cases,)
yet it is not commonly supposed, that men are worthy of
no Praise or Dispraise for such dispositions ; although
what is natural, is undoubtedly necessary, nature being
prior to all acts of the Will whatsoever. Thus, for in
stance, if a man appears to be of a very haughty or
malicious disposition, and is supposed to be so by his
natural temper, it is no vulgar notion, no dictate of the
common sense and apprehension of men, that such dis
positions are no vices or moral evils, or that such persons
are not worthy of disesteem, or odium and dishonour ; or
that the proud or malicious acts which flow from such
natural dispositions, are worthy of no resentment. Yea,
such vile natural dispositions, and the strength of them,
will commonly be mentioned rather as an aggravation of
the wicked acts, that^ome from such a fountain, than an
extenuation of them. It being natural for men to act
thus, is often observed by men in the height of their in
dignation : they will say, "It is his very nature : he is
of a vile natural temper ; it is as natural to him to act so,
as it is to breathe ; he cannot help serving the devil," &c.
But it is not thus with regard to hurtful mischievous
things, that any are the subjects or occasions of, by natural
necessity, against their inclinations. In such a case, the
necessity, by the common voice of mankind, will be
spoken of as a full excuse. — Thus it is very plain, that
common sense makes a vast difference between these two
kinds of necessity, as to the judgment it makes of their
influence on the moral quality and desert of men's actions.
And these dictates are so natural and necessary, that it
may be very much doubted whether the Arminians them
selves have ever got rid of them ; yea, their greatest doc
tors, that have gone furthest in defence of their meta
physical notions of liberty, and have brought their
arguments to their greatest strength, and as they suppose,
to a demonstration, against the consistence of virtue and
vice with any necessity : it is to be questioned, whether
there is so much as one of them, but that, if he suffered
very much from the injurious acts of a man, under the

power of an invincible haughtiness and malignancy of
temper, would not. from the forementioned natural sense
of mind, resent it far otherwise, than if as great sufferings
came upon him from the wind that blows and the fire
that burns by natural necessity ; and otherwise than he
would, if he suffered as much from the conduct of a man
perfectly delirious ; yea, though he first brought his dis
traction upon him some way by his own fault.
Some seem to disdain the distinction that we make be
tween natural and moral Necessity, as though it were alto
gether impertinent in this controversy ; " that which is
necessary, say they, is necessary ; it is that which must be,
and cannot be prevented. And that which is impossible,
is impossible, and cannot be done ; and, therefore, none
can be to blame for not doing it." And such comparisons
are made use of, as the commanding of a man to walk,
who has lost his legs, and condemning him and punishing
him for not obeying ; inviting and calling upon a man,
who is shut up in a strong prison, to come forth, &c. But
in these things Arminians are very unreasonable. Let
common sense determine whether there be not a great dif
ference between these two cases : the one, that of a man
who has offended his prince, and is cast into prison; and
after he has lain there a while, the king comes to him, calls
him to come forth; and tells him, that if he will do so,
and will fall down before him and humbly beg his pardon,
he shall be forgiven, and set at liberty, and also be greatly
enriched, and advanced to honour : the prisoner heartily
repents of the folly and wickedness of his offence against
his prince, is thoroughly disposed to abase himself, and
accept of the king's offer ; but is confined by strong walls,
with gates of brass, and bars of iron. The other case is,
that of a man who is of a very unreasonable spirit, of a
haughty, ungrateful, wilful disposition ; and moreover, has
been brought up in traitorous principles ; and has his heart
possessed with an extreme and inveterate enmity to his
lawful sovereign ; and for his rebellion is cast into prison,
and lies long there, loaded with heavy chains, and in
miserable circumstances. At length the compassionate
prince comes to the prison, orders his chains to be knocked
off, and his prison-doors to be set wide open ; calls to
him, and tells him, if he will come forth to him, and fall
down before him, acknowledge that he has treated him
unworthily, and ask his forgiveness ; he shall be forgiven,
set at liberty, and set in a place of great dignity and profit
in his court. But he is so stout, and full of haughty
malignity, that he cannot be willing to accept the offer ;
his rooted strong pride and malice have perfect power over
him, and as it were bind him, by binding his heart: the
opposition of his heart has the mastery over him, having
an influence on his mind far superior to the king's grace
and condescension, and to all his kind offers and promises.
Now, is it agreeable to common sense, to assert and stand
to it, that there is no difference between these two cases,
as to any worthiness of blame in the prisoners ; because,
forsooth, there is a necessity in both, and the required act
in each case is impossible ? It is true, a man's evil dis
positions may be as strong and immovable as the bars of
a castle. But who cannot see, that when a man, in the
latter case, is said to be unable to obey the command, the
expression is used improperly, and not in the sense it has
originally and in common speech ? and that it may pro
perly be said to be in the rebel's pmver to come out of
prison, seeing he can easily do it if he pleases ; though by
reason of his vile temper of heart, which is fixed and rooted,
it is impossible that it should please him ?
Upon the whole, I presume there is no person of good
understanding, who impartially considers these things, but
will allow, that it is not evident, from the dictates of com
mon sense, or natural notions, that moral Necessity is
inconsistent with Praise and Blame. And, therefore, if the
Arminians would prove any such inconsistency, it must be
by some philosophical and metaphysical arguments, and
not common sense.
There is a grand illusion in the pretended demonstration
of Arminians from common sense. The main strength of
all these demonstrations lies in that prejudice, that arises
through the insensible change of the use and meaning of
such terms as liberty, able, unable, necessary, impossible,
unavoidable, invincible, action, i}c. from their original and

Sect. V

ENDEAVOURS CONSISTENT WITH CALVINISM.

67

vulgar sense, to a metaphysical sense, entirely diverse ; and
the strong connexion of the ideas of blamelessness, &c.
with some of these terms, by a habit contracted and
established, while these terms were used in their first mean
ing. This prejudice and delusion, is the foundation of all
those positions they lay down as maxims, by which most
of the scriptures they allege in this controversy, are inter
preted, and on which all their pompous demonstrations
from Scripture and reason depend. From this secret delu
sion and prejudice they have almost all their advantages : it
is the strength of their bulwarks, and the edge of their
weapons. And this is the main ground of all the right
they have to treat their neighbours in so assuming a manner,
and to insult others, perhaps as wise and good as them
selves, as " weak bigots, men that dwell in the dark caves
of superstition, perversely set, obstinately shutting their
eyes against the noon-day light, enemies to common sense,
maintaining the first-born of absurdities," &c. &c. But
perhaps, an impartial consideration of the things which
have been observed in the preceding parts of this inquiry,
may enable the lovers of truth better to judge, whose doc
trine is indeed absurd, abstruse, self-contradictory, and in
consistent with common sense, and many ways repugnant
to the universal dictates of the reason of mankind.
Corol. From the things which have been observed, it
will follow, that it is agreeable to common sense to sup
pose, that the glorified saints have not their freedom at all
diminished, in any respect ; and that God himself has the
highest possible freedom, according to the true and proper
meaning of the term ; and that he is, in the highest possi
ble respect, an agent, and active in the exercise of his
infinite holiness ; though he acts therein, in the highest
degree, necessarily : and his actions of this kind are in the
highest,most absolutely perfect, manner virtuous and praise
worthy ; and are so, for that very reason, because they are
most perfectly necessary.

SECT. V.
Objections, that this scheme of Necessity renders all Means
and Endeavours for avoiding Sin, or obtaining Virtue
and Holiness, vain, and to no purpose ; and that it makes
men no more than mere machines, in affairs of morality
and religion, answered.
Arminians say, If sin and virtue come to pass by a
Necessity consisting in a sure connexion of causes and
effects, antecedents and consequents, it can never be worth
while to use any Means or Endeavours to obtain the one,
and avoid the other ; seeing no Endeavours can alter the
futurity of the event, which is become necessary by a con
nexion already established.
But I desire, that this matter may be fully considered ;
and that it may be examined with a thorough strictness,
whether it will follow that Endeavours and Means, in order
to avoid or obtain any future thing, must be more in vain,
on the supposition of such a connexion of antecedents and
consequents, than if the contrary be supposed.
For Endeavours to be in vain, is for them not to be suc
cessful ; that is to say, for them not eventually to be the
Means of the thing aimed at, which cannot be, but in one
of these two ways ; either, first, That although the Means
are used, yet the event aimed at does not follow ; or,
secondly, If the event does follow, it is not because of the
Means, or from any connexion or dependence of the event
on the Means, the event would have come to pass as well
without the Means as with them. If either of these two
things are the case, then the Means are not properly suc
cessful, and are truly in vain. The success or non-suc
cess of Means, in order to an effect, or their being in vain
or not in vain, consists in those Means being connected,
or not connected, with the effect, in such a manner as this,
viz. That the effect' is with the Means, and not without.
them ; or, that the being of the effect is, on the one hand,
connected with Means, and the want of the effect, on the
other hand, is connected with the want of the Means. If
there be such a connexion as this between Means and
end, the Means are not in vain : the more there is of
such a connexion, the further they are from being in vain;
f 2

and the less of such a connexion, the more they are
in vain.
Now, therefore, the question to be answered — in order
to determine, whether it follows from this doctrine of the
necessary connexion between foregoing things, and conse
quent ones, that Means used in order to any effect, are
more in vain than they would be otherwise — is, whether it
follows from it, that there is less of the forementioned con
nexion between Means and effect ; that is, whether on the
supposition of there being a real and true connexion be
tween antecedent things and consequent ones, there must
be less of a connexion between Means and effect, than on
the supposition of there being no fixed connexion be
tween antecedent things and consequent ones : and the
very stating of this question is sufficient to answer it. It
must appear to every one that will open his eyes, that this
question cannot be affirmed, without the grossest absurdity
and inconsistence. Means are foregoing things, and effects
are following things : And if there were no connexion be
tween foregoing things and following ones, there could be
no connexion between Means and end ; and so all Means
would be wholly vain and fruitless. For it is only by
virtue of some connexion, that they become successful :
It is some connexion observed, or revealed, or otherwise
known, between antecedent things and following ones,
that directs in the choice of Means. And if there were
no such thing as an established connexion, there could be
no choice, as to Means ; one thing would have no more
tendency to an effect, than another ; there would be no
such thing as tendency in the case. All those things,
which are successful Means of other things, do therein
prove connected antecedents of them : and therefore to
assert, that a fixed connexion between antecedents and
consequents makes Means vain and useless, or stands in
the way to hinder the connexion between Means and end,
is just so ridiculous, as to say, that a connexion between
antecedents and consequents stands in the way to hinder a
connexion between antecedents and consequents.
Nor can any supposed connexion of the succession or
train of antecedents and consequents, from the very be
ginning of all things, the connexion being made already
sure and necessary, either by established laws of nature,
or by these together with a decree of sovereign immediate
interpositions of divine power, on such and such occasions,
or any other way (if any other there be) ; I say, no such
necessary connexion of a series of antecedents and conse
quents can in the least tend to hinder, but that the Means
we use may belong to the series ; and so may be some of
those antecedents which are connected with the conse
quents we aim at, in the established course of things.
Endeavours which we use, are things that exist; and,
therefore, they belong to the general chain of events ; all
the parts of which chain are supposed to be connected :
and so Endeavours are supposed to be connected with
some effects, or some consequent things or other. And
certainly this does not hinder but that the events they are
connected with, may be those which we aim at, and which
we choose, because we judge them most likely to have a
connexion with those events, from the established order
and course of things which we observe, or from something
in divine revelation.
Let us suppose a real and sure connexion between a
man having his eyes open in the clear day-light, with good
organs of sight, and seeing ; so that seeing is connected
with his opening his eyes, and not seeing with his not
opening his eyes; and also the like connexion between
such a man attempting to open his eyes, and his actually
doing it : the supposed established connexion between these
antecedents and consequents, let the connexion be never so
sure and necessary, certainly does not prove that it is in
vain, for a man in such circumstances to attempt to open
his eyes, in order to seeing : his aiming at that event, and
the use of the Means, being the effect of his Will, does
not break the connexion, or hinder the success.
So that the objection we are upon does not lie against
the doctrine of the Necessity of events by a certainty of
connexion and consequence : On the contrary, it is truly
forcible against the Arminian doctrine of contingence and
self-determination ; which is inconsistent with such a con
nexion. If there be no connexion between those events,

68

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

wherein virtue and vice consist, and any thing antecedent ;
then, there is no connexion between these events and any
Means or Endeavours used in order to them : and if so,
then those means must be in vain. The less there is of
connexion between foregoing things and following ones,
so much the less there is between Means and end, Endea
vours and success ; and in the same proportion are Means
and Endeavours ineffectual and in vain.
It will follow from Arminian principles, that there is no
degree of connexion between virtue or vice, and any fore
going event or thing : or, in other words, that the deter
mination of the existence of virtue or vice does not in the
least depend on the influence of any thing that comes to
pass antecedently, as its cause, Means, or ground; be
cause, so far as it is so, it is not from self-determination :
and, therefore, so far there is nothing of the nature of
virtue or vice. And so it follows, that virtue and vice are
not at all, in any degree, dependent upon, or connected
with, as, any foregoing event or existence, its cause,
ground, or Means. And if so, then all foregoing Means
must be totally in vain.
Hence it follows, that there cannot, in any consistence
with the Arminian scheme, be any reasonable ground of
so much as a conjecture concerning the consequence of
any Means and Endeavours, in order to escaping vice or
obtaining virtue, or any choice or preference of Means, as
having a greater probability of success by some than others ;
either from any natural connexion or dependence of the
end on the Means, or through any divine constitution, or
revealed way of God, bestowing or bringing to pass these
things, in consequence of any Means, Endeavours, Prayers,
or Deeds. Conjectures, in this latter case, depend on a
supposition, that God himself is the Giver or determining
Cause of the events sought : but if they depend on self-de
termination, then God is not the determining or disposing
Author of them : and if these things are not of his disposal,
then no conjecture can be made, from any revelation he has
given, concerning any method of his disposal of them.
Yea, on these principles, it will not only follow, that
men cannot have any reasonable ground of judgment or
conjecture, that their Means and Endeavours to obtain
virtue or avoid vice will be successful, but they may be
sure, they will not ; they may be certain, that they will be
in vain ; and that if ever the thing, which they seek, comes
to pass, it will not be at all owing to the Means they use.
For Means and Endeavours can have no effect at all, in
order to obtain the end, but in one of these two ways :
either, (1.) Through a natural tendency and influence, to
Erepare and dispose the mind more to virtuous acts, either
y causing the disposition of the heart to be more in favour
of such acts, or by bringing the mind more into the view
of powerful motives and inducements ; or, (2.) By putting
persons more in the way of God's bestowment of the bene
fit. ¦. But neither of these can be the case. Not the latter ;
for, as has been just now observed, it does not consist with
the Arminian notion of self-determination, which they
suppose essential to virtue, that God should be the be-
stower, or (which is the same thing) the determining, dis
posing author of virtue. Not the former ; for natural
influence and tendency suppose causality, connexion, and
necessity of event, which are inconsistent with Arminian
liberty. A tendency of Means, by biassing the heart in
favour of virtue, or by bringing the Will under the influ
ence and power of motives in its determinations, are both
inconsistent with Arminian liberty of Will, consisting in
indifference, and sovereign self-determination, as has been
largely demonstrated.
But for the more full removal of this prejudice against
the doctrine of necessity, which has been maintained, as
though it tended to encourage a total neglect of all En
deavours as vain, the following things may be considered.
The question is not, Whether men may not thus im
prove this doctrine : we know that many true and whole
some doctrines are abused : but, whether the doctrine
gives any just occasion for such an improvement ; or whe
ther, on the supposition of the truth of the doctrine, such
a use of it would not be unreasonable '! ¦'' If any shall
affirm, that it would not, but that the very nature of the
doctrine is such as gives just occasion for it, it must be on
this supposition ; namely, that such an invariable necessity

of all things already settled, must render the interposition
of all Means, Endeavours, Conclusions or Actions, of ours,
in order to the obtaining any future end whatsoever, per
fectly insignificant ; because they cannot in the least alter
or vary the course and series of things, in any event or
circumstance; all being already fixed unalterably by ne
cessity : and that therefore it is folly, for men to use any
Means for any end ; but their wisdom, to save themselves
the trouble of Endeavours, and take their ease. No per
son can draw such an inference from this doctrine, and
come to such a conclusion, without contradicting himself,
and going counter to the very principles he pretends to act
upon : for he comes to a conclusion, and takes a course,
in order to an end, even his ease, or saving himself from
trouble ; he seeks something future, and uses Means in
order to a future thing, even in his drawing up that con
clusion, that he will seek nothing, and use no Means
in order to any thing in future ; he seeks his future ease,
and the benefit and comfort of indolence. If prior neces
sity, that determines all things, makes vain all actions or
conclusions of ours, in order to any thing future ; then it
makes vain all conclusions and conduct of ours, in order
to our future ease. The measure of our ease, with the
time, manner, and every circumstance of it, is already
fixed, by all-determining necessity, as much as any thing
else. If he says within himself, '" What future happiness
or misery I shall have, is already, in effect, determined by
the necessary course and connexion of things ; therefore, 1
will save myself the trouble of labour and diligence, which
cannot add to my determined degree of happiness, or di
minish my misery ; but will take my ease, and will enjoy
the comfort of sloth and negligence." Such a man con
tradicts himself: he says, the measure of his future hap
piness and misery is already fixed, and he will not try to
diminish the one, nor add to the other : but yet, in his
very conclusion, he contradicts this ; for, he takes up this
conclusion, to add to his future happiness, by the ease and
comfort of his negligence; and to diminish his future
trouble and misery, by saving himself the trouble of using
Means and taking Pains.
Therefore persons cannot reasonably make this improve
ment of the doctrine of necessity, that they will go into
a voluntary negligence of Means for their own happiness.
For the principles they must go upon, in order to this, are
inconsistent with their making any improvement at all of
the doctrine : for to make some improvement of it, is to
be influenced by it, to come to some voluntary conclusion,
in regard to their own conduct, with some view or aim :
but this, as has been shown, is inconsistent with the prin
ciples they pretend to act upon. In short, the principles
are such as cannot be acted upon at all, or, in any respect,
consistently. And, therefore, in every pretence of acting
upon them, or making any improvement at all of them,
there is a self-contradiction.
As to that objection against the doctrine, which I have
endeavoured to prove, that it makes men no more than
mere machines ; I would say, that notwithstanding this
doctrine, man is entirely, perfectly, and unspeakably dif
ferent from a mere machine, in that he has reason and
understanding, with a faculty of Will, and so is capable
of volition and choice; in that his Will is guided by the
dictates or views of his understanding ; and in that his
external actions and behaviour, and in many respects also
his thoughts, and the exercises of his mind, are subject
to his Will ; so that he has liberty to act according to his
choice, and do what he pleases ; and by means of these
things, is capable of moral habits and moral acts, such
inclinations and actions as, according to the common sense
of mankind, are worthy of praise, esteem, love, and
reward ; or, on the contrary, of disesteem, detestation,
indignation, and punishment.
In these things is all the difference from mere machines,
as to liberty and agency, that would be any perfection,
dignity, or privilege, in any respect : all the difference that
can be desired, and all that can be conceived of; and in
deed all that the pretensions of the Arminians themselves
come to, as they are forced often to explain themselves ;
though their explications overthrow and abolish the things
asserted, and pretended to be explained. For they are
forced to explain a self-determining power of Will,' by a

Sect VI.

THE CHARGE OF STOICISM, &c. ANSWERED.

69

power in the soul, to determine as it chooses or wills ;
which comes to no more than this, that a man has a
power of choosing, and, in many instances, can do as he
chooses. Which is quite a different thing from that con
tradiction, his having power of choosing his first act of
choice in the case.
Or, if their scheme make any other difference than this,
between men and machines, it is for the worse : it is so
far from supposing men to have a dignity and privilege
above machines, that it makes the manner of their being
determined still more unhappy. Whereas, machines are
guided by an intelligent cause, by the skilful hand of the
workman or owner ; the will of man is left to the guidance
of nothing, but absolute blind contingence !

SECT. VI.
Concerning that objection against the doctrine which has
been maintained, that it agrees with the Stoical doctrine
of Fate, and the opinions of Mr. Hobbes.
When Calvinists oppose the Arminian notion of the
freedom of Will, and contingence of volition, and insist
that there are no acts of the Will, nor any other events
whatsoever, but what are attended with some kind of
necessity ; their opposers exclaim against them, as agree
ing with the ancient Stoics in their doctrine of Fate, and
with Mr. Hobbes in his opinion of Necessity.
It would not be worth while to take notice of so im
pertinent an objection, had it not been urged by some of
the chief Arminian writers. — There were many important
truths maintained by the ancient Greek and Roman phi
losophers, and especially the Stoics, that are never the
worse for being held by them. The Stoic philosophers,
by the general agreement of Christian divines, and even
Arminian divines, were the greatest, wisest, and most
virtuous of all the heathen philosophers ; and, in their
doctrine and practice, came the nearest to Christianity of
any of their sects. How frequently are the sayings of
these philosophers, in many of the writings and sermons,
even of Arminian divines, produced, not as arguments for
the falseness of the doctrines which they delivered, but as
a confirmation of some of the greatest truths of the
christian religion, relating to the unity and perfections
of the Godhead, a future state, the duty and happiness of
mankind, &c. and how the light of nature and reason, in
the wisest and best of tbe heathen, harmonized with and
confirms the gospel of Jesus Christ.
And it is very remarkable, concerning Dr. Whitby, that
although he alleges the agreement of the Stoics with us,
wherein he supposes they maintained the like doctrine, as
an argument against the truth of ours ; yet, this very
Dr. Whitby alleges the agreement of the Stoics with the
Arminians, wherein he supposes they taught the same
doctrine with them, as an argument for the truth of their
doctrine.* So that, when the Stoics agree with them, it
is a confirmation of their doctrine, and a confutation of
ours, as showing that our opinions are contrary to the na
tural sense and common reason of mankind : nevertheless,
when the Stoics agree with us, it argues no such thing in
our favour ; but, on the contrary, is a great argument
against us, and shows our doctrine to be heathenish !
It is -observed by some Catvinistic writers, that the
Arminians symbolize with the Stoics, in some of those
doctrines wherein they are opposed by the Calvinists;
particularly in their denying an original, innate, total cor
ruption and depravity of heart; and in what they held of
man's ability to make himself truly virtuous and conformed
to God, and in some other doctrines.
lt may be further observed, that certainly it is no better
objection against our doctrine, that it agrees, in some
respects, with the doctrine of the ancient Stoic philoso
phers ; than it is against theirs, wherein they differ from
us, that it agrees, in some respects, with the opinion of the
very worst of the heathen philosophers, the followers of
Epicurus, the father of atheism and licentiousness, and
with the doctrine of the Sadduaes and Jesuits.
* Whilby on the five Points, Edit. 3. p. 325, 326, 327.

I am not much concerned to know precisely, what the
ancient Stoic philosophers held concerning Fate, in order
to determine what is truth ; as though it were a sure way
to be in the right, to take good heed to differ from them.
It seems, that they differed among themselves ; and pro
bably the doctrine of Fate, as maintained by most of them,
was, in some respects, erroneous. But whatever their
doctrine was, if any of them held such a Fate, as is repug
nant to any liberty, consisting in our doing as we please,
I utterly deny such a Fate. If they held any such Fate, as
is not consistent with the common and universal notions
that mankind have of liberty, activity, moral agency,
virtue and vice ; I disclaim any such thing, and think I
have demonstrated, that the scheme I maintain is no such
scheme. If the Stoics, by Fate, meant any thing of such
a nature, as can be supposed to stand in the way of advan
tage and benefit of in use of means and endeavours, or
would make it less worth while for men to desire and
seek after any thing wherein their virtue and happiness
consists ; I hold no doctrine that is clogged with any such
inconvenience, any more than any other scheme what
soever ; and by no means so much as the Arminian scheme
of contingence ; as has been shown. If they held any
such doctrine of universal fatality, as is inconsistent with
any kind of liberty, that is or can be any perfection, dig
nity, privilege, or benefit, or any thing desirable, in any
respect, for any intelligent creature, or indeed with any
liberty that is possible or conceivable ; I embrace no such
doctrine. If they held any such doctrine of Fate, as is
inconsistent with the world being in all things subject to
the disposal of an intelligent, wise agent, that presides —
not as the soul of the world, but — as the Sovereign Lord
of the Universe, governing all things by proper will, choice,
and design, in the exercise of the most perfect liberty
conceivable, without subjection to any constraint, or being
properly under the power or influence of any thing before,
above, or without himself; I wholly renounce any such
doctrine. As to Mr. Hobbes maintaining the same doctrine con
cerning necessity ; I confess, it happens I never read Mr.
Hobbes. Let his opinion be what it will, we need not
reject all truth which is demonstrated by clear evidence,
merely because it was once held by some bad man. This
great truth, "that Jesus is the Son of God," was not
spoiled because it was once and again proclaimed with a
loud voice by the devil. If truth is so defiled, because it
is spoken by the mouth, or written by the pen, of some ill
minded, mischievous man, that it must never be received,
we shall never know, when we hold any of the most pre
cious and evident truths by a sure tenure. And if Mr.
Hobbes has made a bad use of this truth, that is to be
lamented ; but the truth is not to be thought worthy of
rejection on that account. It is common for the corrupt
hearts of evil men to abuse the best things to vile pur
poses. I might also take notice of its having been observed,
that the Arminians agree with Mr. Hobbes f in many
more things than the Calvinists. As, in what he is said to
hold concerning original sin, in denying the necessity of
supernatural illumination, in denying infused grace, in
denying the doctrine of justification by faith alone ; and
other things.

SECT. VII.
Concerning the Necessity of the Divine Will.
Some may, possibly, object aeainst what has been sup
posed of the absurdity and inconsistence of a self-deter
mining power in the Will, and the impossibility of its being
otherwise, than that the Will should be determined in
every case by some motive, and by a motive which (as it
stands in the view of the understanding) is of superior
strength to any appearing on the other side ; that if these
things are true, it will follow, that not only the Will of
created minds, but the Will of God himself, is necessary
in all its determinations. Concerning which the author
T Dr. Gill, in his Answer to Dr. Whitby, Vol. III. p 1B3, _c .

70

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

of the Essai/ on the Freedom of Will in God and in the
Creature, (pag. 85, 86.) says : " What strange doctrine is
this, contrary to all our ideas of the dominion of God ?
does it not destroy the glory of his liberty of choice, and
take away from the Creator and Governor and Benefactor
of the world, that most free and Sovereign Agent, all the
glory of this sort of freedom ? does it not seem to make
him a kind of mechanical medium of fate, and introduce
Mr. Hobbes's doctrine of fatality and Necessity, into all
things that God hath to do with ? Does it not seem to
represent the blessed God, as a Being of vast understand
ing, as well as power, and efficiency, but still to leave him
without a Will to choose among all the objects within his
view ? In short, it seems to make the blessed God a sort
of Almighty Minister of Fate, under its universal and
supreme influence ; as it was the professed sentiment of
some of the ancients, that Fate was above the gods.
This is declaiming, rather than arguing ; and an appli
cation to men's imaginations and prejudices, rather than to
mere reason. I would now calmly endeavour to consider,
whether there be any reason in this frightful representation.
But, before I enter upon a particular consideration of the
matter, I would observe ; that it is reasonable to suppose,
it should be much more difficult to express or conceive
things according to exact metaphysical truth, relating to the
nature and manner of the existence of things in the Divine
Understanding and Will, and the operation of these facul
ties (if I may so call them) of the Divine Mind, than in
the human mind ; which is infinitely more within our view,
more proportionate to the measure of our comprehension,
and more commensurate to the use and import of human
speech. Language is indeed very deficient, in regard of
terms to express precise truth concerning our own minds,
and their faculties and operations. Words were first form
ed to express external things ; and those that are applied
to express things internal and spiritual, are almost all bor
rowed, and used in a sort of figurative sense. Whence
they are, most of them, attended with a great deal of am
biguity and unfixedness in their signification, occasioning
innumerable doubts, difficulties, and confusions, in inquiries
and controversies about things of this nature. But lan
guage is much less adapted to express things existing in the
mind of the incomprehensible Deity, precisely as they are.
We find a great deal of difficulty in conceiving exactly
of the nature of our own souls. And notwithstanding all
the progress which has been made, in past ages, and the
present, in this kind of knowledge, whereby our metaphy
sics, as it relates to these things, is brought to greater per-
* " It might have been objected, with more plausibleness, that the Su
preme Cause cannot be free, because he must needs do always what is best
in the whole. But this would not at all serve Spinoza's purpose ; for this is
a necessity, notofnatureandoffate.but of fitness and wisdom: a necessity
consistent with the greatest freedom, and most perfect choice. For the only
foundation of this necessity is such an unalterable rectitude of will, and
lerfection of wisdom, as makes it impossible for a wise being to act foolish-
y." Clark's Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of-God. Edit. 6.
p. 64.
" Though God is a most perfect free Agent, yet he cannot but do always
what is best and wisest intbewhole. The reason is evident; becauseper-
fect wisdom and goodness are as steady and certain principles of action, as
necessity itself ; and an infinitely wise and good Being, indued with the most
perfect liberty, can no more choose to act in contradiction to wisdom and
goodness, than a necessary agent can act contrary to the necessity by which
it is acted ; it being as great an absurdity and impossibility in choice, for
Infinite Wisdom to choose to act unwisely, or Infinite Goodness to choose
what is not good, as it would be in nature, for absolute necessity to fail of
producing its necessary effect. There was, indeed, no necessity in nature,
that God should at first create such beings as he has created, or indeed any
being at all ; because he is, in himself, infinitely happy and all-sufficient.
There was, also, no necessity in nature, that he should preserve and con
tinue things in being, after they were created ; because he would be self-
sufficient without their continuance, as he was before their creation. Butit
was fit and wise and good, that Infinite Wisdom should manifest, and Infi
nite Goodness communicate itself: and therefore it was necessary, in the
sense of necessity I am now speaking of, that things should be made at such
a lime, and continued so long, and indeed with various perfections in such
degrees, as Infinite Wisdom and Goodness saw it wisest and best that they
should." Ibid. p. 112, 113.
" It is not a fault, but a perfection of our nature, to desire, will, and act,
according to the last result of a fair examination. — This is so far from being
a restraint or diminution of freedom, that it is the very improvement and be
nefit of it : it is not an abridgment, it is the end and use of our liberty ; and
the further we are removed from such a determination, the nearer we are to
misery and slavery. A perfect indifference in the mind, not determinable
by its last judgment, of the good or evil that is thought to attend its choice,
would be so far from being an advantage and excellency of any intellectual
nature, that it would be as great an imperfection, as the want of indifferency
to act, or not to act, till determined by the will, would be an imperfection
on the other side. — It is as much a perfection, that desire or the power of
preferring should be determined by good, as that the power of acting should
bo determined by the will : and the certainer such determination is, the
greater the perfection. Nay, were we determined by any thing but the last
result of onr own minds, judging of the good or evil of any action, we were
not free. This very end of our freedom being, that we might attain the good

.

fection than once it was ; yet, here is still work enough
left for future inquiries and researches, and room for pro
gress still to be made, for many ages and generations. But
we had need to be infinitely able metaphysicians, to con
ceive with clearness, according to strict, proper, and perfect
truth, concerning the nature of the Divine Essence, and the
modes of action and operation in the powers of the Divine
Mind. And it may be noted particularly, that though we are
obliged to conceive of some things in God as consequent
and dependent on others, and of some things pertaining to
the Divine Nature and Will as the foundation of others,
and so before others in the order of nature: as, we must
conceive of the knowledge and holiness of God as prior, in
the order of nature, to his happiness ; the perfection of
his understanding, as the foundation of his wise purposes
and decrees ; the holiness of his nature, as the cause and
reason of his holy determinations. And yet, when we
speak of cause and effect, antecedent and consequent, fun
damental and dependent, determining and determined, in
the first Being, who is self-existent, independent, of per
fect and absolute simplicity and immutability, and the first
cause of all things : doubtless there must be less propriety
in such representations, than when we speak of derived
dependent beings, who are compounded, and liable to per
petual mutation and succession.
Having premised this, I proceed to observe concerning
the forementioned author's exclamation, about the neces
sary determination of God's Will, in all things, by what
he sees to be fittest and best ;
That all the seeming force of such objections and ex
clamations must arise from an imagination, that there is
some sort of privilege or dignity in being without such a
moral Necessity, as will make it impossible to do any
other, than always choose what is wisest and best ; as
though there were some disadvantage, meanness, and sub
jection, in such a Necessity ; a thing by which the Will
was confined, kept under, and held in servitude by some
thing, which, as it were, maintained a strong and invincible
power and dominion over it, by bonds that held him fast,
and from which he could, by no means, deliver himself.
Whereas, this must be all mere imagination and delusion.
It is no disadvantage or dishonour to a being, necessarily
to act in the most excellent and happy manner, from the
necessary perfection of his own nature. This argues no
imperfection, inferiority, or dependence, nor any want of
dignity, privilege, or ascendency* It is not inconsistent
with the absolute and most perfect sovereignty of God.
we choose ; and, therefore, every man is brought under a necessity by his
constitution, as an intelligent being, to be determined in willing by his own
thought and judgment, what is best for him to do ; else he would be under
the determination of some other than himself, which is want of liberty. And
to deny that a man's will, in every determination, follows his own judgment,
is to say, that a man wills and acts for an end that he would not have, at the
same time that he wills and acts for it. For if he prefers it in his present
thoughts, before any other, it is plain he then thinks better of it, and would
have it before any other ; unless he can have and not have it, will and not
will it, at the same time ; a contradiction too manifest to be admitted.— If
we look upon those superior beings above us, who enjoy perfect happiness,
we shall have reason to judge, that they are more steadily determined iu
their choice of good than we ; and yet we have no reason to think they are
less happy, or less free, than we are. And if it were fit for such poor finite
creatures as we are, to pronounce what Infinite Wisdom and Goodness
could do, I think we might say, that God himself cannot choose what is not
good. The freedom of the Almighty hinders not his being determined by
what is be St.— But to give a right view of this mistaken part of liberty, let
me ask. Would any one be a changeling, because he is less determined by
wise determination, than a wise man ? Is it worth the name of freedom, to
be at liberty to play the fool, and draw shame and misery upon a man's
self? If to break loose from the conduct of reason, and to want that
restraint of examination and judgment, that keeps us from doing or choosing
the worse, be liberty, true liberty, mad men and fools are the only free
men. Yet, I think, nobody would choose to be mad, for the sake of such
liberty, but he that is mad already.'' Locke Hum. Und. Vol. I. Edit 7. p.
215. 216.
" This Being, having all things always necessarily in view, must always
and eternally will, according to his infinite comprehension of things; that is,
must will all things that are wisest and best to be done. There is no getting
free of this consequence. If it can will at all, it must will this way. To
be capable of knowing, and not capable of wiUing, is not to be understood.
And to be capable of willing otherwise than what is wisest and best, con
tradicts that knowledge which is infinite. Infinite Knowledge must direct
the will without error. Here then, is the origin of moral Necessity ; and
that is, really, of freedom — Perhaps it may be said, when the Divine Will
is determined, from the consideration of the eternal aptitudes of things, it
is as necessarily determined, as if it were physically impelled, if that were
possible. But it is unskilfulness, to suppose "this an objection. The great
principle is once established, viz. That the Divine Will is determined by
the eternal reason and aptitudes of things, instead of being physically im
pelled ; and after that, the more strong and necessary this determination is,
the more perfect the Deity must be allowed to be: it is this that makes him
an amiable and adorable Being, whose will and power are constantly, im
mutably determined, by the consideration of what is wisest and best; in
stead of a surd Being, with power, but without discerning and reason. It

Sect. VII.

NECESSITY OF DIVINE VOLITION.

71

The sovereignty of God is his ability and authority to do
whatever pleases him ; whereby " he doth according to his
will in the armies of heaven, and amongst the inhabitants
of the earth, and none can stay his hand, or sav unto him,
what dost thou ?" — The following things belong to the
sovereignty of God; viz. (1.) Supreme, universal, and
infinite Power ; whereby he is able to do what he pleases,
without control, without any confinement of that power,
without any subjection, in the least measure, to any other
power; and so without any hinderance or restraint, that it
should be either impossible, or at all difficult, for him to
accomplish his Will ; and without any dependence of his
power on any other power, from whence it should be de
rived, or of which it should stand in any need : so far from
this, that all other power is derived from him, and is abso
lutely dependent on him. (2.) That he has supreme
authority ; absolute and most perfect right to do what he
wills, without subjection to any superior authority, or any
derivation of authority from any other, or limitation by
any distinct independent authority, either superior, equal,
or inferior ; he being the head of all dominion, and foun
tain of all authority; and also without restraint by any
obligation, implying either subjection, derivation, or de
pendence, or proper limitation. (3.) That his Will is
supreme, underived, and independent on any thing with
out himself; being in every thing determined by his own
counsel, having no other rule but his own wisdom ; his
Will not being subject to or restrained by the Will of any
other, and other Wills being perfectly subject to his.
(4.) That his Wisdom, which determines his Will, is
supreme, perfect, underived, self-sufficient, and independ
ent; so that it may be said, as in Isa. xl. 14. " With
whom took he counsel r And who instructed him and
taught him in the path of judgment, and taught him
knowledge, and showed him the way of understanding '!"
There is no other Divine Sovereignty but this ; and this is
properly absolute sovereignty : no other is desirable ; nor
would any other be honourable, or happy : and indeed,
there is no other conceivable or possible. It is the glory
and greatness of the Divine Sovereign, that his Will is
determined by his own infinite, all-sufficient wisdom in
every thing ; and is in nothing at all directed either by
inferior wisdom, or by no wisdom ; whereby it would be
come senseless arbitrariness, determining and acting without
reason, design, or end.
If God's Will is steadily and surely determined in every
thing by supreme wisdom, then it is in every thing neces
sarily determined to that which is most wise. And, cer
tainly, it would be a disadvantage and indignity, to be
otherwise. For if the Divine Will was not necessarily
determined to what in every case is wisest and best, it
must be subject to some degree of undesigning contin
gence; and so in the same degree liable to evil. To
suppose the Divine Will liable to be carried hither and
thither at random, by the uncertain wind of blind contin
gence, which is guided by no wisdom, no motive, no in
telligent dictate whatsoever, (if any such thing were
possible,) would certainly argue a great degree of imperfec
tion and meanness, infinitely unworthy of the Deity. If
it be a disadvantage, for the Divine Will to be attended
with this moral Necessity, then the more free from it, and
the more left at random, the greater dignity and advantage.
And, consequently, to be perfectly free from the direction
of understanding, and universally and entirely left to sense
less unmeaning contingence, to act absolutely at random,
would be the supreme glory !
It no more argues any dependence of God's Will, that
his supremely wise volition is necessary, than it argues a
dependence of his being, that his existence is necessary.
If it be something too low, for the Supreme Being to have
his W ill determined by moral Necessity, so as necessarily,
in every case, to Will in the highest degree holily and
happily ; then why is it not also something too low, for
him to have his existence, and the infinite perfection of his
nature, and his infinite happiness, determined by Necessity?
It is no more to God's dishonour, to be necessarily wise,
than to be necessarily holy. And, if neither of them be
is the beauty of this Necessity, that it is strong as fate itself, with all the
advantage of reason and goodness. — It is strange, to see men contend, that
the Deity is not free, because he is necessarily rational, immutably good

to his dishonour, then it is not to his dishonour necessarily
to act holily and wisely. And if it be not dishonourable
to be necessarily holy and wise, in the highest possible
degree, no more is it mean and dishonourable, necessarily
to act holily and wisely in the highest possible degree ; or
which is the same thing, to do that, in every case, which,
above all other things, is wisest and best.
The reason why it is not dishonourable to be neces
sarily most holy is, because holiness in itself is an excel
lent and honourable thing. For the same reason, it is no
dishonour to be necessarily most wise, and, in every case,
to act most wisely, or do the thing which is the wisest of
all ; for wisdom is also in itself excellent and honourable.
The forementioned author of the Essay on the Freedom
of Will, i}c. as has been observed, represents that doctrine
of the Divine Will being in every thing necessarily deter
mined by superior fitness, as making the blessed God a
kind of Almighty Minister and mechanical medium of
fate : he insists, (p. 93, 94.) that this moral Necessity and
impossibility is, in effect, the same thing with physical
and natural Necessity, and impossibility : and says, (p.
54, 55.) " The scheme which determines the Will always
and certainly by the understanding, and the understanding
by the appearance of things, seems to take away the true
nature of vice and virtue. For the sublimest of virtues,
and the vilest of vices, seem rather to be matters of fate
and Necessity, flowing naturally and necessarily from the
existence, the circumstances, and present situation of
persons and things ; for this existence and situation neces
sarily makes such an appearance to the mind ; from this
appearance flows a necessary perception and judgment,
concerning these things ; this judgment necessarily deter
mines the Will ; and thus, by this chain of necessary
causes, virtue and vice would lose their nature, and be
come natural ideas, and necessary things, instead of moral
and free actions."
And yet this same author allows, (p. 30, 31.) That a
perfectly wise being will constantly and certainly choose"
what is most fit; and says, (p. 102, 103.) "I grant, and
always have granted, that wheresoever there is such ante
cedent superior fitness of things, God acts according to it,
so as never to contradict it ; and, particularly, in all his
judicial proceedings as a Governor and Distributer of re
wards and punishments." Yea, he says expressly, (p. 42.) :
" That it is not possible for God to act otherwise, than ac
cording to this fitness and goodness in things."
So that, according to this author, putting these several
passages of his Essay together, there is no virtue, nor any
thing of a moral nature, in the most sublime and glorious
acts arid exercises of God's holiness, justice, and faithful
ness ; and he never does any thing which is in itself su
premely worthy, and, above all other things, fit and excel
lent, but only as a kind of mechanical medium of fate ;
and in what he does as the Judge, and moral Governor of
the world, he exercises no moral excellency ; exercising no
freedom in these things, because he acts by moral Neces
sity, which is, in effect, the same with physical or natural
Necessity ; and therefore, he only acts by an Hobbistical
fatality ; " as a Being indeed of vast understanding, as well
as power and efficiency, (as he said before,) but without _
will to choose, being a kind of Almighty Minister of fate,
acting under its supreme influence." For he allows, that
in all these things, God's Will is determined constantly
and certainly by a superior fitness, and that it is not pos
sible for him to act otherwise. And if these things are so,
what glory or praise belongs to God for doing holily
and justly, or taking the most .fit, holy, wise, and ex
cellent course, in any one instance '! Whereas, according
to the Scriptures, and also the common sense of mankind,
it does not, in the least, derogate from the honour of any
being, that through the moral perfection of his nature, he
necessarily acts with supreme wisdom and holiness ; but
on the contrary, his praise is the greater : herein consists
the height of his glory.
The same author (p. 56.) supposes, that herein appears
the excellent " character of a wise and good man, that
though be can choose contrary to the fitness of things, yet
and wise ; when a man is allowed still the perfecter being, the more fixedly
and constantly his Will is determined bv reason and truth." Inquiry into
the Nature of the Hum. Soul. Edit. 3. Vol. II. p. 403, 401.

72

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

he does not; but suffers himself to be directed by fitness;"
and that, in this conduct, " he imitates the blessed God."
And yet, he supposes it is contrarywise with the blessed
God ;" not that he suffers himself to" be directed by fitness,
when "-he can choose, contrary to the fitness of things;"
but that " he cannot choose contrary to the fitness of
things ;" as he says, p. 42. " That it is not possible for
God" to act otherwise than according to this fitness, where
there is any fitness or goodness in things :" Yea, he sup
poses, (p. 31.) That if~a man "were perfectly wise and
good, he could not do otherwise than be constantly and cer
tainly determined by the fitness of things."
One thing more I would observe, before I conclude
this section ; and that is, that if it derogate nothing from
the glory of God, to be necessarily determined by superior
fitness in some things, then neither does it to be thus de
termined in all things ; from any thing in the nature of
such Necessity, as at all detracting from God's freedom,
independence, absolute supremacy, or any dignity or glory
of his nature, state, or manner of acting ; or as implying
any infirmity, restraint, or subjection. And if the thing
be such as well consists with God's glory, and has nothing
tending at all to detract from it ; then we need not be afraid
of ascribing it to God in too many things, lest thereby we
should detract from God's glory too much.

SECT. VIII.
Some further objections against the moral Necessity of
God's Volitions considered.
The author last cited, as has been observed, owns that
God, being perfectly wise, will constantly and certainly
choose what appears most fit, where there is a superior
fitness and goodness in things ; and that it is not possible
for him to do otherwise. So that it is in effect confessed,
that in those things where there is any real preferableness,
it is no dishonour, nothing in any respect unworthy of God,
for him to act from Necessity ; notwithstanding all that
can be objected from the agreement of such a Necessity
with the fate of the Stoics, and the Necessity maintained
by Mr. Hobbes. From which it will follow, that if in all
the different things, among which God chooses, there were
evermore a superior fitness or preferableness on one side,
then it would be no dishonour, or any thing unbecoming,
for God's Will to be necessarily determined in every thing.
And if this be allowed, it is giving up entirely the argu
ment, from the unsuitableness of such a Necessity to the
liberty, supremacy, independence, and glory of the Divine
Being ; and resting the whole weight of the affair on the
decision of another point wholly diverse ; viz. Whether it
be so inrlced, that in all the various possible things, which
are in God's view, and may be considered as capable ob
jects of his choice, there is not evermore a preferableness
in one thing above another. This is denied by this author ;
who supposes, that in many instances, between two or more
Sossible things, which come within the view of the Divine
Iind, there is a perfect indifference and inequality, as to
fitness or tendency, to attain any good end which God can
have in view, or to answer any of his designs. Now,
therefore, I would consider whether this be evident.
The arguments brought to prove this, are of two kinds.
(1.) It is urged, that, in many instances, we must suppose
there is absolutely no difference between various possible
objects of choice, which God' has in view : and, (2.) that
the difference between many things is so inconsiderable, or
of such a nature, that it would be unreasonable to sup
pose it to be of any consequence ; or to suppose that any
* " If all created beings were taken away, all possibility of any mutation
or succession of one thing to another, would appear to be also removed.
Abstract succession in eternity is scarce to be understood. What is it that
succeeds ? One minute to another, perhaps, velut unda supervenit undam.
But when we imagine this, we fancy that the minutes are things separately
existing. This is the common notion ; and yet it is a manifest prejudice.
Time is untliine: but the existence of created successive beings, and eternity
the necessury existence of the Deity.— Therefore, if this necessary Being
hath no change or succession in his nature, his existence must of course be
unsuccessive. We seem to commit a double oversight in this case; first,
we find succession in the necessary nature and existence of the Deity him
self: which is wrong, if the reasoning above be conclusive. And then we
ascribe this succession to eternity, considered abstractedly from the Eternal
Being ; and suppose it, one knows not what, a thing subsisting by itself, and
flowing, one minute after another. This is the work of pure imagination,

of God's wise designs would not be answered in any one
way as well as the other.
Therefore,I. The first thing to be considered is, whether there are
any instances wherein there is a perfect likeness, and ab
solutely no difference, between different objects of choice,
that are proposed to the Divine Understanding ?
And here, in the first place, it may be worthy to be con
sidered, whether the contradiction there is in the terms of
the question proposed, does not give reason to suspect,
that there is an inconsistence in the thing supposed. It is
inquired whether different objects of choice may not be
absolutely without difference? If they are absolutely
without difference, then how are they different objects of
choice ? If there be absolutely no difference, in any re
spect, then there is no variety or distinction : for distinction
is only by some difference. And if there be no variety
among proposed objects of choice, then there is no oppor
tunity for variety of choice, or difference of determination.!
For that determination of a thing, which is not different
in any respect, is not a different determination, but the
same. That this is no quibble, may appear more fully in
a short time.
The arguments, to prove that the Most High, in some
instances, chooses to do one thing rather than another,
where the things themselves are perfectly without differ
ence, are two.
1. That the various parts of infinite time and space,
absolutely considered, are perfectly alike, and do not differ
at all one from another : and that therefore, when God
determined to create the world in such a part of infinite
duration and space, rather than others, he determined and
preferred, among various objects, between which there was
no preferableness, and absolutely no difference.
Answ. This objection supposes an infinite length of time
before the world was created, distinguished by successive
parts, properly and truly so; or a succession of limited and
unmeasurable periods of time, following one another, in an
infinitely long series : which must needs be a groundless
imagination. The eternal duration which was before the
world, being only the eternity of God's existence ; which
is nothing else but his immediate, perfect, and invariable
possession of the whole of his unlimited life, together and
at once ; Vita interminabilis, tota, simul et perfecta pos-
sessio. Which is so generally allowed, that I need not stand
to demonstrate it.*
So this objection supposes an extent of space beyond the
limits of the creation, of an infinite length, breadth, and
depth, truly and properly distinguished into different
measurable parts, limited at certain stages, one beyond
another, in au infinite series. Which notion of absolute
and infinite space is doubtless as unreasonable, as that now
mentioned, of absolute and infinite duration. It is as im
proper, to imagine that the immensity and omnipresence
of God is distinguished by a series of miles and leagues,
one beyond another ; as that the infinite duration of God is
distinguished by months and years, one after another. A
diversity and order of distinct parts, limited by certain
periods, is as conceivable, and does as naturally obtrude it
self on our imagination, in one case as the other ; and
there is equal reason in each case, to suppose that our
imagination deceives us. It is equally improper to talk of
months and years of the Divine Existence, as of square
miles of Deity : and we equally deceive ourselves, when
we talk of the world being differently fixed, with respect to
either of these sorts of measures, j think, we know not
what we mean, if we say, the world might have been differ
ently placed from what it is, in the broad expanse of infinity ;
or, that it might have been differently fixed in the long line
and contrary to the reality of things. Hence the common metaphorical
expressions: Ttme runs apace, let us lay hold on the present minute and
the like. The philosophers themselves mislead us by their illustration
They compare eternity to the motion of a point running on for ever and
making a traceless infinite line. Here the point is supposed a thing
actually subsisting, representing the present minute ; and then they ascribe
motion or succession to it : that is, they ascribe motion to a mere nonentity
to illustrate to us a successive eternity, made up of finite successive parte
—If once we allow an all-perfect mind, which hath an eternal, immutable
and infinite comprehension of all things, always (and allow it we must) the
distinction of past and future vanishes with respect to such a mind —In a
word, if we proceed step by step, as above, the eternity or existence of the
Deity will appear to be Vitce interminabilis, tola, simul et perfecta vos-
sessio; how much soever this may have been a paradox hitherto" In
quiry wtothe Nature of llt$ Human Soul. Vol. ii. 409,410, 411 Edil 3

Sect. VIII.

NECESSITY OF DIVINE VOLITION, CONTINUED.

73

of eternity : and all arguments and objections, which are
built on the imaginations we are apt to have of infinite
extension or duration, are buildings founded on shadows,
or castles in the air.
2. The second argument, to prove that the' Most High
wills one thing rather than another, without any superior
fitness or preferableness in the thing preferred, is God's
actually placing in different parts of the world, particles, or
atoms of matter, that are perfectly equal and alike. The
forementioned author says, (p. 78, &c.) " If one would
descend to the minute specific particles, of which different
bodies are composed, we should see abundant reason to
believe, that there are thousands of such little particles, or
atoms of matter, which are perfectly equal and alike, and
could give no distinct determination to the Will of God,
where to place them." He there instances in particles of
water, of which there are such immense numbers, which
compose the rivers and oceans of this world ; and the in
finite myriads of the luminous and fiery particles, which
compose the body of the sun ; so many, tnat it would be
very unreasonable to suppose no two of them should be
exactly equal and alike.
_insu>. (1 .) To this I answer : that as we must suppose
matter to be infinitely divisible, it is very unlikely, that
any two of all these particles are exactly equal and alike ;
so unlikely, that it is a thousand to one, yea, an infinite
number to one, but it is otherwise : and that although we
should allow a great similarity between the different par
ticles of water and fire, as to their general nature and figure ;
and however small we suppose those particles to be, it is
infinitely unlikely, that any two of them should be exactly
equal in dimensions and quantity of matter. — If we should
suppose a great many globes of the same nature with the
globe of the earth, it would be very strange, if there were
any two of them that had exactly the same number of par
ticles of dust and water in them. But infinitely less
strange, than that two particles of light should have just
the same quantity of matter. For a particle of light, ac
cording to the doctrine of the infinite divisibility of matter,
is composed of infinitely more assignable parts, than there
are particles of dust and water in the globe of the earth. And
as it is infinitely unlikely, that any two of these particles
should be equal ; so it is, that they should be alike in other
respects : to instance in the configuration of their surfaces.
If there were very many globes, of the nature of the earth,
it would be very unlikely that any two should have exactly
the same number of particles of dust, water, and stone, in
their surfaces, and all posited exactly alike, one with re
spect to another, without any difference, in any part dis
cernible either by the naked eye or microscope ; but infi
nitely less strange, than that two particles of light should
be perfectly of the same figure. For there are infinitely
more assignable real parts on the surface of a particle of
light, than there are particles of dust, water, and stone, on
the surface of the terrestrial globe.
Answ. (2.) But then, supposing that there are two parti
cles, or atoms of matter, perfectly equal and alike, which
God has placed in different parts of the creation ; as I will
not deny it to be possible for God to make two bodies
perfectly alike, and put them in different places ; yet it will
not follow, that two different or distinct acts or effects of
the Divine Power have exactly the same fitness for the
same ends. For these two different bodies are not differ
ent or distinct, in any other respects than those wherein
they differ : they are two in no other respects than those
wherein there is a difference. If they are perfectly equal
and alike in themselves, then they can be distinguished, or
be distinct, only in those things which are called circum
stances ; as place, time, rest, motion, or some other present
or past circumstances or relations. For it is difference
only that constitutes distinction. If God makes two
bodies, in themselves every way equal and alike, and agree
ing perfectly in all other circumstances and relations, but
only their place ; then in this only is there any distinction
or duplicity. The figure is the same, the measure is the
same, the solidity and resistance are the same, and every
thing the same but only the place. Therefore what the
Will of God determines is this, that there should be the
same figure, the same extension, the same resistance, &c.
in two different places. And for this determination he has

some reason. There is some end, for which such a deter
mination and act has a peculiar fitness, above all other
acts. _ Here is no one thing determined without an end,
and no one thing without a fitness for that end, superior to
any thing else. If it be the pleasure of God to cause the
same resistance, and the same figure, to be in two different
places and situations, we can no more justly argue from it,
that here must be some determination or act of God's Will
that is wholly without motive or end, than we can argue,
that whenever, in any case, it is a man's Will to speak the
same words, or make the same sounds, at two different
times, there must be some determination or act of his
Will, without any motive or end. The difference of place,
in the former case, proves no more than the difference of
time does in the other. If any one should say, with regard
to the former case, that there must be something de
termined without an end ; viz. that of those two similar
bodies, this in particular should be made in this place, and
the other in the other, and should inquire, why the Creator
did not make them in a transposition, when both are alike,
and each would equally have suited either place ? The
inquiry supposes something that is not true ; namely, that
the two bodies differ and are distinct in other respects be
sides their place. So that with this distinction inherent in
them, they might, in their first creation, have been trans
posed, and each might have begun its existence in the
place of the other.
Let us, for clearness sake, suppose, that God had, at
the beginning, made two globes, each of an inch diameter,
both perfect spheres, and perfectly solid, without pores,
and perfectly alike in every respect, and placed them near
one to another, one towards the right hand, and the other
towards the left, without any difference as to time, motion,
or rest, past or present, or any circumstance, but only their
place; and the question should be asked, why God in
their creation placed them so ? why that which is made
on the right hand, was not made on the left, and vice
versa ? Let it be well considered, whether there be any
sense in such a question ; and whether the inquiry does
not suppose something false and absurd. Let it be con
sidered, what the Creator must have done otherwise than
he did, what different act of Will or power he must have
exerted, in order to the thing proposed. All that could
have been done, would have been to have made two
spheres, perfectly alike, in the same places where he has
made them, without any difference of the things made,
either in themselves or in any circumstance ; so that the
whole effect would have been without any difference, and,
therefore, just the same. By the supposition, the two
spheres are different in no other respect but their place ;
and therefore in other respects they are the same. Each
has the same roundness ; it is not a distinct rotundity, in
any other respect but its situation. There are, also, the
same dimensions, differing in nothing but their place.
And so of their resistance, and every thing else that be
longs to them.
Here, if any chooses to say, " that there is a difference
in another respect, viz. that they are not numerically the
same : that it is thus with all the qualities that belong to
them : that it is confessed, they are, in some respects, the
same ; that is, they are both exactly alike ; but yet nu
merically they differ. Thus the roundness of one is not
the same numerical, individual roundness with that of the
other." Let this be supposed ; then the question about
the determination of the Divine Will in the affair, is, why
did God will, that this individual roundness should be at
the right hand, and the other individual roundness at the
left ? why did not he make them in a contrary position ?
Let any rational person consider, whether such questions
be not words without a meaning ; as much as if God
should see fit for some ends, to cause the same sounds to
be repeated, or made at two different times ; the sounds
being perfectly the same in every other respect, but only
one was a minute after the other ; and it should be asked,
upon it, why God caused these sounds, numerically dif
ferent, to succeed one the other in such a manner ? why
he did not make that individual sound, which was in the
first minute, to be in the second, and the individual
sound of the last minute to be in the first ? which inquiries
would be even ridiculous ; as, I think, every person must

74

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

see, in the case proposed of two sounds, being only the
same repeated, absolutely without any difference, but that
one circumstance of time. If the Most High sees it will
answer some good end, that the same sound be made
thunder at two distinct times, and therefore wills that it
should be so, must it needs therefore be, that herein there
is some act of God's Will without any motive or end ?
God saw fit often, at distinct times, and on different occa
sions, to say the very same words to Moses ; namely,
those, I am Jehovah. And would it not be unreasonable
to infer, as a certain consequence, from this, that here must
be some act or acts of the Divine Will, in determining
and disposing the words exactly alike, at different times,
wholly without aim or inducement? But it would be no
more unreasonable than to say, that there must be an act
of God without any inducement, if he sees it best, and,
for some reasons, determines that there shall be the same
resistance, the same dimensions, and the same figure, in
several distinct places.
If, in the instance of the two spheres, perfectly alike, it
be supposed possible that God might have made them in
a contrary position ; that which is made at the right hand,
being made at the left; then I ask, Whether it is not evi
dently equally possible, if God had made but one of them,
and that in the place of the right hand globe, that he might
have made that numerically different from what it is, and
numerically different from what he did make it ; though
perfectly alike, and in the same place ; and at the same
time, and in every respect, in the same circumstances and
relations ? Namely, Whether he might not have made it
numerically the same with that which he has now made
at the left hand; and so have left that which is now
created at the right hand, in a state of non-existence ?
And, if so, whether it would not have been possible to
have made one in that place, perfectly like these, and yet
numerically differing from both ? And let it be considered,
whether, from this notion of a numerical difference in bodies,
perfectly equal and alike, which numerical difference is
something inherent in the bodies themselves, and diverse
from the difference of place or time, or any circumstance
whatsoever ; it will not follow, that there is an infinite num
ber of numerically different possible bodies, perfectly alike,
among which God chooses, by a self-determining power,
when he goes about to create bodies.
Therefore let us put the case thus : Supposing that God,
in the beginning, had created but one perfectly solid sphere,
in a certain place : and it should be inquired, W hy God
created that individual sphere, in that place, at that time ?
and why he did not create another sphere perfectly like it,
but numerically different, in the same place, at the same
time ? Or why he: chose to bring into being there, that
very body, rather than any of the infinite number of other
bodies, perfectly like it; either of which he could have
made there as well, and would have answered his end as
well 1 Why he caused to exist, at that place and time,
that individual roundness, rather than any other of the in
finite number of individual rotundities, just like it 1 Why
that individual resistance, rather than any other of the in
finite number of possible resistances, just like it ? And
it might as reasonably be asked, Why, when God first
caused it to thunder, he caused that individual sound then
to be made, and not another just like it ? Why did he
make choice of this very sound, and reject all the infinite
number of other possible sounds just like it, but numeri
cally differing from it, and all differing one from another ? I
think, every body must be sensible of the absurdity and
nonsense of what is supposed in such inquiries. And, if
we calmly attend to the matter, we shall be convinced,
that all such kind of objections as I am answering, are
founded on nothing but the imperfection of our manner
of conceiving things, and the obscureness of language, and
great want of clearness and precision in the signification of
terms. If any should find fault with this reasoning, that it is
going a great length into metaphysical niceties and subtil-
ties ; I answer, the objection to which they are a reply, is
a metaphysical subtilty, and must be treated according to
the nature of it.*
* " For men to have recourse to suhtilties, in raising difficulties, and then
complain, that they should be taken off by minutely examining these subtil-

II. Another thing alleged is, that innumerable things
which are determined by the Divine Will, and chosen and
done by God rather than others, differ from those that are
not chosen in so inconsiderable a manner, that it would be
unreasonable to suppose the difference to be of any conse
quence, or that there is any superior fitness or goodness,
that God can have respect to in the determination.
To which I answer ; it is impossible for us to deter
mine, with any certainty or evidence, that because the
difference is very small, and appears to us of no considera
tion, therefore there is absolutely no superior goodness, and
no valuable end, which can be proposed by the Creator
and Governor of the world, in ordering such a difference.
The forementioned author mentions many instances. One
is, there being one atom in the whole universe more, or
less. But, I think, it would be unreasonable to suppose,
that God made one atom in vain, or without any end or
motive. He made not one atom, but what was a work of
his Almighty Power, as much as the whole globe of the
earth, and requires as much of a constant exertion of Al
mighty Power to uphold it; and was made and is upheld
with understanding and design, as much as if no other had
been made but that. And it would be as unreasonable to
suppose, that he made it without any thing really aimed
at in so doing, as much as to suppose, that he made the
planet Jupiter without aim or design.
It is possible, that the most minute effects of the Crea
tor's power, the smallest assignable difference between the
things which God has made, may be attended, in the whole
series of events, and the whole compass and extent of their
influence, with very great and important consequences. If
the laws of motion, and gravitation, laid down by Sir Isaac
Newton, hold universally, there is not one atom, nor the
least assignable part of an atom, but what has influence,
every moment, throughout the whole material universe, to
cause every part to be otherwise than it would be, if it
were not for that particular corporeal existence. And how
ever the effect is insensible for the present, yet it may, in
length of time, become great and important.
To illustrate this, let us suppose two bodies moving the
same way, in straight lines, perfectly parallel one to another;
but to be diverted from this parallel course, and drawn one
from another, as much as might be, by the attraction of an
atom, at the distance of one of the furthest of the fixed stars
from the earth ; these bodies being turned out of the lines
of their parallel motion, will, by degrees, get further and
further distant, one from the other; and though the distance
may be imperceptible for a long time, yet at length it may
become very great. So tbe revolution of a planet round
the sun being retarded or accelerated, and the orbit of its
revolution made greater or less, and more or less elliptical,
and so its periodical time longer or shorter, no more than
may be by the influence of the least atom, might, in length
of time, perform a whole revolution sooner or later than
otherwise it would have done ; which might make a vast
alteration with regard to millions of important events. So
the influence of the least particle may, for ought we know,
have such effect on something in the constitution of some
human body, as to cause another thought to arise in the
mind at a certain time, than otherwise would have been ;
which, in length of time, (yea, and that not very great,)
might occasion a vast alteration through the whole world
of mankind. And so innumerable other ways might be
mentioned, wherein the least assignable alteration may
possibly be attended with great consequences.*
Another argument, which the fore-mentioned author
brings against a necessary determination of the Divine
Will, by a superior fitness, is, that such doctrine derogates
from the freeness of God's grace and goodness, in choosing
the objects of his favour and bounty, and from the obliga
tion upon men to thankfulness for special benefits, (p. 89,
&c.) In answer to this objection, I would observe,
1. That it derogates no more from the goodness of God,
to suppose the exercise of the benevolence of his nature to
be determined by wisdom, than to suppose it determined
by chance, and that his favours are bestowed altogether at
random, his Will being determined by nothing but perfect
accident, without any end or design whatsoever ; which
ties, is a strange kind of procedure." Nature of the Human Soul, vol. .2.

Sect. VIII.

OF THE EXISTENCE OF SIN, &c.

75

must be the case, as has been demonstrated, if Volition be
not determined by a prevailing motive. That which is
owing to perfect contingence, wherein neither previous in
ducement nor antecedent choice has any hand, is not ow
ing more to goodness or benevolence, than that which is
owing to the influence of a wise end.
2. It is acknowledged, that if the motive that deter
mines the Will of God, in the choice of the objects of his
favours, be any moral quality in the object, recommending
that object to his benevolence above others, his choosing
that object is not so great a manifestation of the freeness
and sovereignty of his grace, as if it were otherwise. But
there is no necessity for supposing this, in order to our
supposing that he has some wise end in view, in determin
ing to bestow his favours on one person rather than
another. We are to distinguish between the merit of the
object of God's favour, or a moral qualification of the ob
ject attracting tnat favour and recommending to it, and the
natural fitness of such a determination of the act of God's
goodness, to answer some wise design of his own, some
end in the view of God's omniscience. — It is God's own
act, that is the proper and immediate object of his Vo
lition. 3. I suppose that none will deny, but that, in some in
stances, God acts from wise design in determining the
particular subjects of his favours : none will say, I pre
sume, that when God distinguishes, by his bounty, par
ticular societies or persons, he never, in any instance, ex
ercises any wisdom in so doing, aiming at some happy
consequence. And, if it be not denied to be so in some
instances, then I would inquire, whether in these in
stances God's goodness is less manifested, than in those
wherein God has no aim or end at all ? And whether the
subiects have less cause of thankfulness ? And if so, who
shall be thankful for the bestowment of distinguishing
mercy, with that enhancing circumstance of the distinction
being made without an end? How shall it be known
when God is influenced by some wise aim, and when not ?
It is very manifest, with respect to the apostle Paul, that
God had wise ends in choosing him to be a Christian and
an apostle, who had been a persecutor, &c. The apostle
himself mentions one end. (1 Tim. i. 15, 16.) " Christ
Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am
chief. Howbeit, for this cause I obtained mercy, that
in me first, Jesus Christ might show forth all long-suffering,
for a pattern to them who should hereafter believe on him
to life everlasting." But yet the apostle never looked on
it as a diminution of the freedom and riches of divine grace
in his election, which he so often and so greatly magnifies.
This brings me to observe,
4. Our supposing such a moral Necessity in the acts of
God's Will, as has been spoken of, is so far from necessarily
derogating from the riches of God's grace to such as are the
chosen objects of his favour, that, in many instances, this
moral necessity may arise from goodness, and from the
great degree of it. God may choose this object rather than
another, as having a superior fitness to answer the ends,
designs, and inclinations of his goodness ; being more sin
ful, and so more miserable and necessitous than others,
the inclinations of infinite mercy and benevolence may be
more gratified, and the gracious design of God in sending
his Son into the world, may be more abundantly answered,
in the exercises of mercy towards such an object, rather
than another.
One thing more I would observe, before I finish what I
have to say on the head of the Necessity of the acts of
God's Will ; and that is, that something much more like
a servile subjection of the Divine Being to fatal Necessity,
will follow from Arminian principles, than from the doc
trines which they oppose. For they (at least most of them)
suppose, with respect to all events that happen in the
moral world, depending on the Volitions of moral agents,
which are the most important events of the universe, to
which all others are subordinate ; I say, they suppose,
with respect to these, that God has a certain foreknowledge
of them, antecedent to any purposes or decrees of his
about them. And if so, they have a fixed certain futurity,
prior to any designs or Volitions of his, and independent
» Oh the live Points, p. 361

on them, and to which his Volitions must be Subject, as
he would wisely accommodate his affairs to this fixed
futurity of the state of things in the moral world. So that
here, instead of a moral Necessity of God's Will, arising
from, or consisting in, the infinite perfection and blessed
ness of the Divine Being, we have a fixed unalterable state
of things, properly distinct from the perfect nature of the
Divine Mind, and the state of the Divine Will and Design,
and entirely independent on these things, and which they
have no hand in, because they are prior to them ; and to
which God's Will is truly subject, being obliged to con
form or accommodate himself to it, in all his purposes and
decrees, and in every thing he does in his disposals and
government of the world ; the moral world being the end
of the natural ; so that all is in vain, that is not accom
modated to that state of the moral world, which consists
in, or depends upon, the acts and state of the Wills of
moral agents, which had a fixed futurition from eternity.
Such a subjection to Necessity as this, would truly argue
an inferiority and servitude, that would be unworthy of
the Supreme Being ; and is much more agreeable to the
notion which many of the heathen had of fate, as above the
gods, than that moral Necessity of fitness and wisdom
which has been spoken of; and is truly repugnant to the
absolute sovereignty of God, and inconsistent with the
supremacy of his Will ; and really subjects the Will of the
Most High to the Will of his creatures, and brings him
into dependence upon them.

SECT. IX.
Concerning that objection against the doctrine which has
been maintained, that it makes God the Author of Sin.
It is urged by Arminians, that the doctrine of the Neces
sity of men's Volitions, or their necessary connexion with
antecedentevents and circumstances, makes the FirstCause,
and Supreme Orderer of all things, the Author of Sin ;
in that he has so constituied the state and course of
things, that sinful Volitions become necessary, in conse
quence of his disposal. Dr. Whitby, in his Discourse on
the Freedom of the Will, * cites one of the ancients, as
on his side, declaring that this opinion of the Necessity of
the Will " absolves sinners, as doing nothing of their own
accord which was evil, and would cast all the blame of all
the wickedness committed in the world, upon God, and
upon his providence, if that were admitted by the asser-
tors of this fate ; whether he himself did necessitate them
to do these things, or ordered matters so, that they should
be constrained to do them by some other cause." And the
Doctor says, in another place, f "In the nature of the
thing, and in the opinion of philosophers, causa deficiens,
in rebus necessariis, ad causam per se efficientem reducenda
est. In things necessary, the deficient cause must be re
duced to the efficient. And in this case the reason is
evident ; because the not doing what is required, or not
avoiding what is forbidden, being a defect, must follow
from the position of the necessary cause of that deficiency."
— Concerning this, I would observe the following things.
I. If there be any difficulty in this matter, it is nothing
peculiar to this scheme ; it is no difficulty or disadvan
tage wherein it is distinguished from the scheme of Armini
ans ; and, therefore, not reasonably objected by them.
Dr. Whitby supposes that if sin necessarily follows
from God withholding assistance, or if that assistance be
not given, which is absolutely necessary to the avoiding of
evil ; then, in the nature of the thing, God must be as
properly the author of that evil, as if he were the efficient
cause of it. From whence, according to what he himself
says of the devils and damned spirits, God must be
the proper author of their perfect unrestrained wickedness:
he must be the efficient cause of the great pride of the
devils, and of their perfect malignity against God, Christ,
his saints, and all that is good, and of the insatiable cruelty
of their disposition. For he allows, that God has so for
saken them, and does so withhold his assistance from them,
that they are incapacitated from doing good, and deter-
t Ibid. p. 4S6.

76

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

mined only to evil.* Our doctrine, in its consequence,
makes God the author of men's sin in this world, no more,
and in no other sense, than his doctrine, in its consequence,
makes God the author of the hellish pride and malice of
the devils. And doubtless the latter is as odious an effect
as the former.
Again, if it will follow at all, that God is the Author of
Sin, from what has been supposed of a sure and infallible
connexion between antecedents and consequents, it will
follow because of this, viz. that for God to be the author
or orderer of those things which, he knows beforehand,
will infallibly be attended with such a consequence, is the
same thing, in effect, as for him to be the author of that
consequence. But, if this be so, this is a difficulty which
equally attends the doctrine of Arminians themselves ; at
least, of those of them who allow God's certain foreknow
ledge of all events. For, on the supposition of such a
foreknowledge, this is the case with respect to every sin
that is committed : God knew, that if he ordered and
brought to pass such and such events, such sins would
infallibly follow. As for instance, God certainly foreknew,
long before Jiuias was born, that if he ordered things so,
that there should be such a man born, at such a time, and
at such a place, and that his life should be preserved, and
that he should, in Divine Providence, be led into acquaint
ance with Jesus ; and that his heart should be so influenced
by God's Spirit or providence, as to be inclined to be a
follower of Christ ; and that he should be one of those
twelve, which should be chosen constantly to attend
him as his family ; and that his health should be pre
served, so that he should go up to Jerusalem, at the last
passover in Christ's life ; and it should be so ordered, that
Judas should see Christ's kind treatment of the woman
which anointed him at Bethany, and have that reproof from
Christ which he had at that time, and see and hear other
things which excited his enmity against his Master, and other
circumstances should be ordered, as they were ordered ; it
would most certainly and infallibly follow, that Judas would
betray his Lord, and would soon after hang himself, and die
impenitent, and be sent to hell, for his horrid wickedness.
Therefore, this supposed difficulty ought not to be
brought as an objection against the scheme which has
been maintained, as disagreeing with the Arminian scheme,
seeing it is no difficulty owing to such a disagreement,
but a difficulty wherein the Arminians share with us.
That must be unreasonably made an objection against
our differing from them, which we should not escape or avoid
atallbyagreeing with them. — And therefore I would observe,
II. They who object, that this doctrine makes God the
Author of Sin, ought distinctly to explain what they mean
by that phrase, The Author of Sin. I know the phrase,
as it is commonly used, signifies something very ill. If
by the Author of Sin, be meant the Sinner, the Agent, or
Actor of Sin, or the Doer of a wicked thing ; so it would
be a reproach and blasphemy, to suppose God to be the Au
thor of Sin. In this sense, I utterly deny God to be the
Author of Sin ; rejecting such an imputation on the Most
High, as what is infinitely to be abhorred ; and deny any
such thing to be the consequence of what I have laid
down. But if, by the Author of Sin, is meant the per-
mitter, or not a hinderer of Sin ; and, at the same time, a
disposer of the state of events, in such a manner, for wise,
holy, and most excellent ends and purposes, that Sin, if it
be permitted or not hindered, will most certainly and in
fallibly follow : I say, if this be all that is meant, by being
the Author of Sin, I do not deny that God is the Author
of Sin, (though I dislike and reject the phrase, as that
which by use and custom is apt to carry another sense,) it
is no reproach for the Most High to be thus the Author
of Sin. This is not to be the Acto- of Sin, but, on the
contrary, of holiness. What God doth herein, is holy ;
and a glorious exercise of the infinite excellency of his na
ture. And, I do not deny, that God being thus the Author
of Sin, follows from what I have laid down; and, I
assert, that it equally follows from the doctrine which is
maintained by most of the Arminian divines.
That it is most certainly so, that God is in such a man
ner the Disposer and Orderer of Sin, is evident, if any
»' On V..c live Points, p. 302, 305.

credit is to be given to the Scripture ; as well as because
it is impossible, in the nature of things, to be otherwise.
In such a manner God ordered the obstinacy of Pltar-aoh,
in his refusing to obey God's commands, to let the people
go. (Exod. iv. 21.) " I will harden his heart, and he shall
not let the people go." (Chap. vii. 2 — 5.) " Aaron thy
brother shall speak unto Pharaoh, that he send the chil
dren of Israel out of his land. And I will harden
Pharaoh's heart, and multiply my signs and my wonders
in the land of Egypt. But Pharaoh shall not hearken
unto you; that I may lay mine hand upon Egypt, by
great judgments," &c. (Chap. ix. 12.) " And the Lord
hardened the heart of Pharaoh, and he hearkened not unto
them, as the Lord had spoken unto Moses." (Chap. x. 1,
2.) " And the Lord said unto Moses, Go in unto Pha
raoh ; for I have hardened his heart, and the heart of his
servants, that I might show these my signs before him,
and that thou mayest tell it in the ears of thy son, and thy
son's son, what things I have wrought in Egypt, and my
signs which I have done amongst them, that ye may know
that I am the Lord." (Chap. xiv. 4.) " And I will harden
Pharaoh's heart, that he shall follow after them : and I will
be honoured upon Pharaoh, and upon all his host." (Ver.
8.) " And the Lord hardened the heart of Pharaoh king of
Egypt, and he pursued after the children of Israel." And
it is certain, that in such a maiumr God, for wise and good
ends, ordered that event, Joseph being sold into Egypt by his
brethren. (Gen. xiv. 5.) " Now, therefore, be not grieved,
nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither; for God
did send me before you to preserve life." (Ver. 7, 8.) " God
did send me before you to preserve a posterity in the earth,
and to save your lives by a great deliverance : so that now it
was not you that sent me hither, but God." (Psal. cvii. 17.)
" He sent a man before them, even Joseph, who was sold
for a servant." It is certain, that thus God ordered the
Sin and folly of Sihon king of the Amorites, in refusing to
let the people of Israel pass by him peaceably. (Deut.
ii. 30.) " But Sihon king of Heshbon would not let us
pass by him ; for the Lord thy God hardened his spirit,
and made his heart obstinate, that he might deliver him
into thine hand." It is certain, that God thus ordered the
Sin and folly of the kings of Canaan, that they attempted
not to make peace with Israel, but, with a stupid boldness
and obstinacy, set themselves violently to oppose them and
their God. (Josh. xi. 20.) " For it was of the Lord, to
harden their hearts, that they should come against Israel
in battle, that he might destroy them utterly, and that they
might have no favour ; but that he might destroy them, as
the Lord commanded Moses." It is evident, that thus
God ordered the treacherous rebellion of Zedekiah against
the king of Babylon. (Jer. Hi. 3.) " For through the anger
of the Lord it came to pass in Jerusalem, and Judah, until
he had cast them out from his presence, that Zedekiah
rebelled against the king of Babylon." (So 2 Kings xxiv.
20.) And it is exceeding manifest, that God thus ordered
the rapine and unrighteous ravages of Nebuchadnezzar, in
spoiling and ruining the nations round about. (Jer. xxv.
9.) " Behold, I will send and take all the families of the
north, saith the Lord, and Nebuchadnezzar my servant,
and will bring them against this land, and against all the
nations round about; and will utterly destroy them, and
make them an astonishment, and an hissing, and perpetual
desolations." (Chap, xliii. 10, 11.) " I will send and take
Nebuchadnezzar the king of Babylon, my servant : and I
will set his throne upon these stones that I have hid, and
he shall spread his royal pavilion over them. And when
he cometh, he shall smite the land of Egypt, and deliver
such as are for death to death, and such as are for captivity
to captivity, and such as are for the sword to the sword.''
Thus God represents himself as sending for Nebuchad
nezzar, and taking him and his armies, and bringing him
against the nations, which were to be destroyed by him, to
that very end, that he might utterly destroy them, and
make them desolate ; and as appointing the work that he
should do so particularly, that the very persons were de
signed that he should kill with the sword, and those that
should be killed with famine and pestilence, and those that
should be carried into captivity ; and that in doing all these

Sect. IX.

OF THE EXISTENCE OF SIN, &c.

77

things, he should act as his servant ; by which, less cannot
be intended, than that he should serve his purposes and de
signs. And in Jer. xxvii. 4 — 6. God declares, how he
would cause him thus to serve his designs, viz. by bringing
this to pass in his sovereign disposals, as the great Possessor
and Governor of the universe, that disposes all things just
as pleases him. " Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God
of Israel ; I have made the earth, the man and the beast
that are upon the ground, by my great power, and my
stretched out arm, and have given it unlo whom it seemed
meet unto me ; and now I have given all these lands into
the hands of Nebuchadnezzar my servant, and the beasts
of the field have I given also to serve him." And Nebu
chadnezzar is spoken of as doing these things, by having his
arms strengthened by God, and having God s sword put into
his hands, for this end. (Ezek. xxx. 24, 25, 26.) Yea, God
speaks of' his terribly ravaging and wasting the nations,
and cruelly destroying all sorts, without distinction of sex
or age, as the weapon in God's hand, and the instrument
of his indignation, which God makes use of to fulfil his
own purposes, and execute his own vengeance. (Jer. li.
20, &c.) " Thou art my battle-axe, and weapons of war.
For with thee will I break in pieces the nations, and with
thee I will destroy kingdoms, and with thee I will break
in pieces the horse and his rider, and with thee I will
break in pieces the chariot and his rider ; with thee also
will I break in pieces man and woman ; and with thee I
will break in pieces old and young ; and with thee will I
break in pieces the young man and the maid," ike. It is
represented, that the designs of Nebuchadnezzar and those
that destroyed Jerusalem, never could have been accom
plished, had not God determined them. (Lam. iii. 37.)
" Who is he that saith, and it cometh to pass, and the
Lord commandeth it not?" And yet the king of Babylon
thus destroying the nations, and especially the Jews, is
spoken of as his great wickedness, for which God finally
destroyed him. (Isa. xiv. 4 — 6, 12. Hab. ii. 5 — 12. and
Jer. chap. 1. and li.) It is most manifest, that God, to
serve his own designs, providentially ordered Shimei's
cursing of David. (2 Sam. xvi. 10, li.) "The Lord hath
said unto him, Curse David. — Let him curse, for the Lord
hath bidden him."
It is certain, that God thus, for excellent, holy, gracious
ends, ordered the fact which they committed, who were
concerned in Christ's death ; and that therein they did
but fulfil God's designs. As, I trust, no Christian will
deny it was the design of God, that Christ should be
crucified, and that for this end he came into the world. It
is very manifest by many scriptures, that the whole affair
of Christ's crucifixion, with its circumstances, and the
treachery of Judas, that made way for it, was ordered in
God's providence, in pursuance of his purpose ; notwith
standing the violence that is used with those plain scrip
tures, to obscure and pervert the sense of them. (Acts ii.
23.) " Him being delivered, by the determinate counsel and
foreknowledge of God * ye have taken, and with wicked
hands have crucified and slain." Luke xxii. 21, 22.f
" But behold the hand of him that betrayeth me, is with
me on the table : and truly the Son of man goeth, as it
was determined." (Acts iv. 27, 28.) " For of a truth,
against the holy child Jesus, whom thou hast anointed,
both Herod, and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and
the people of Israel, were gathered together, for to do what
soever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be
done." (Acts iii. 17, _8.) "And now, brethren, I wot
that through ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers ;
but these things, which God before had showed by the
mouth of all his prophets, that Christ should suffer, he
hath so fulfilled." So that what these murderers of Christ
did, is spoken of as what God brought to pass or ordered,
and that by which he fulfilled his own word.
In Rev', xvii. 17. " The agreeing of the kings of the
earth to give their kingdom to the beast ;" though it was a
very wicked thing in them, is spoken of as " fulfilling
God's will," and what " God had put into their hearts to
* " Grotius, as well as Bexa, observes, 7rpo7v_<rt? must here signify de
cree : and Eisner has shown that it has that signification in approved
Greek writers. And it is certain enooro? signifies one given up into the
hands of an enemy :"  Dodd. in Loc.
t " As this passage is not liable to the ambiguities which some have ap
prehended in Acts ii. 23. and iv. 28. (which yet seem on the whole to be

do" It is manifest, that God sometimes permits sin to be
committed, and at the same time orders things so, that if
he permits the fact, it will come to pass, because 'on some
accounts, he sees it needful and of importance, that it
should come to pass. (Mutt, xviii. 7.) " It must needs
be, that offences come ; but woe to that man by whom the
offence cometh." With 1 Cor. xi. 19.) " For there must
also be heresies among you, that they which are approved
mav be made manifest among you."
Thus it is certain and demonstrable, from the holy
Scriptures, as well as the nature of things, and the prin
ciples of Arminians, that God permits sin ; and at the
same time, so orders things, in his providence, that it
certainly and infallibly will come to pass, in consequence
of his permission. I proceed to observe in the next place,
III. That there is a great difference between God being
concerned thus, by his permission, in an event and act,
which, in the inherent subject and agent of it, is sin,
(though the event will certainly follow on his permission,)
and his being concerned in it by producing it and exerting
the act of sin ; or between his being the orderer of its
certain existence, by not hindering it, under certain cir
cumstances, and his being the proper actor or author of it,
by a positive agency or efficiency. And this, notwithstand
ing what Dr. Whitby offers about a saying of philosophers,
that causa deficiens, in rebus necessariis, ad causam per se
efficientem reducenda est. As there is a vast difference
between the sun being the cause of the lightsomeness and
warmth of the atmosphere, and the brightness of gold and
diamonds, by its presence and positive influence ; and its
being the occasion of darkness and frost, in the night, by
its motion, whereby it descends below the horizon. ' The
motion of the sun is the occasion of the latter kind of
events ; but it is not the proper cause, efficient, or producer
of them ; though they are necessarily consequent on that
motion, under such circumstances : no more is any action
of the Divine Being the cause of the evil of men's Wills.
If the sun were the proper cause of cold and darkness, it
would be the fountain of these things, as it is the fountain
of light and heat : and then something might be argued
from the nature of cold and darkness, to a likeness of
nature in the sun ; and it might be justly inferred, that
the sun itself is dark and cold, and that his beams are
black and frosty. But from its being the cause no other
wise than by its departure, no such thing can be inferred,
but the contrary ; it may justly be argued, that the sun is
a bright and hot body, if cold and darkness are found to
be the consequence of its withdrawment ; and the more
constantly and necessarily these effects are connected with
and confined to its absence, the more strongly does it
argue the sun to be the fountain of light and heat. So,
inasmuch as sin is not the fruit of any positive agency or
influence of the Most High, but, on the contrary, arises
from the withholding of his action and energy, and, under
certain circumstances, necessarily follows on the want of
his influence ; this is no argument that he is sinful, or his
operation evil, or has any thing of the nature of evil ; but,
on the contrary, that he, and his agency, are altogether
good and holy, and that he is the fountain of all holiness.
It would be strange arguing, indeed, because men never
commit sin, but only when God leaves them to themselves,
and necessarily sin when he does so, that therefore their
sin is not from themselves, but from God ; and so, that
God must be a sinful being : as strange as it would be to
argue, because it is always dark when the sun is gone,
and never dark when the sun is present, that therefore all
darkness is from the sun, and that his disk and beams
must needs be black.
IV. It properly belongs to the supreme and absolute
Governor of the universe, to order all important events
within his dominion, by his wisdom : but the events in
the moral world are of the most important kind ; such as
the moral actions of intelligent creatures, and their con
sequences. These events will be ordered by something. They will
parallel to it, in their most natural construction,) I look upon it as an
evident proof, that these things are, in the language of Scripture, said to be
determined or decreed (or exactly bounded and marked out by God, as the
word amifc.) most naturally signifies kwhicb he sees in fact will happen, in
consequence of his volitions, withourany necessitating agency : as well as
those events, of which he is properly the author." Dodd. in Loc.

78

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

either be disposed by wisdom, or they will be disposed by
chance ; that is, they will be disposed by blind and un-
designing causes, if that were possible, and could be called
a disposal. Is it not better, that the good and evil which
happen in God's world, should be ordered, regulated,
bounded, and determined by the good pleasure of an in
finitely wise Being, who perfectly comprehends within his
understanding and constant view, the universality of
things, in all their extent and duration, and sees all the
influence of every event, with respect to every individual
thing and circumstance, throughout the grand system, and
the whole of the eternal series of consequences ; than to
leave these things to fall out by chance, and to be deter
mined by those causes which have no understanding or
aim ? Doubtless, in these important events, there is a
better and a worse, as to the time, subject, place, manner,
and circumstances of their coming to pass, with regard to
their influence on the state and course of things. And if
there be, it is certainly best that they should be determined
to that time, place, &c. which is best. And therefore it is
in its own nature fit, that wisdom, and not chance, should
order these things. So that it belongs to the Being, who
is the possessor of infinite wisdom, and is the creator and
owner of the whole system of created existences, and has
the care of all ; I say, it belongs to him, to take care of
this matter ; and he would not do what is proper for him,
if he should neglect it. And it is so far from being unholy
in him, to undertake this affair, that it would rather have
been unholv to neglect it; as it would have been a neglect
ing what fitly appertains to him ; and so it would have
been a very unfit and unsuitable neglect.
Therefore the sovereignty of God doubtless extends to
this matter : especially considering, that if God should
leave men's volitions, and all moral events, to the deter
mination and disposition of blind unmeaning causes, or
they should be left to happen perfectly without a cause ;
this would be no more consistent with liberty, in any
notion of it, and particularly not in the Arminian notion
of it, than if these events were subject to the disposal of
Divine Providence, and the Will of man were determined
by circumstances which are ordered and disposed by
Divine Wisdom ; as appears by what has been already
observed. But it is evident, that such a providential dis
posing, and determining of men's moral actions, though it
infers a moral necessity of those actions, yet it does not in
the least infringe the real liberty of mankind ; the only
liberty that common sense teaches to be necessary to moral
agency, which, as has been demonstrated, is not incon
sistent with such necessity.
On the whole, it is manifest, that God may be, in the
manner which has been described, the Orderer and Disposer
of that event, which, in the inherent subject and agent, is
moral Evil ; and yet his so doing may be no moral Evil.
He may will the disposal of such an event, and its coming
to pass for good ends, and his Will not be an immoral or
sinful Will, but a perfect, holy Will. And be may actu
ally, in his providence, so dispose and permit things, that
the event may be certainty and infallibly connected with
such disposal and permission, and his act therein not be
an immoral or unholy, but a perfectly holy act. Sin may
be an evil thing, and yet that there should be such a dis-
Eosal and permission, as that it should come to pass, may
e a good thing. This is no contradiction, or inconsistence.
Joseph's brethren selling him into Egypt, consider it only
as it were acted by them, and with respect to their views
and aims, which were evil, was a very bad thing; but it
was a good thing, as it was an event of God's ordering,
and considered with respect to his views and aims, which
were good. (Gen. 1. 20.) " As for you, ye thought Evil
* Here are worthy to be observed some passages of a late noted writer,
of our nation, that nobody who is acquainted with him, will suspect to be
very favourable to Calmnism. " It is difficult, says he, to handle the
necessity of evil in such a manner, as not to stumble such as are not above
being alarmed at propositions which have an uncommon sound. But if
philosophers will but reflect calmly on the matter, they will find, that
consistently with the unlimited power of the supreme cause, it may be said,
that in the best ordered system, evils must have place." — TurnbulVs
.Principles of Moral Philosophy, p. 327, 328. He is there speaking of
moral evils, as may be seen.
Again the same author, in his second vol. entitled, Christian Philosophy,
(p. 35.) has these words : " If the Author and Governor of all things be in
finitely perfect, then whatever is, is right ; of all possible systems.he hath
chosen the best ; and, consequently, there is no absolute evil in the uni
verse. —This being the case, all the seeming imperfections or evils in it are

against me; but God meant it unto Good." So the
crucifixion of Christ, if we consider only those things
which belong to the event as it proceeded from his mur
derers, and are comprehended within the compass of the
affair considered as their act, their principles, dispositions,
views, and aims ; so it was one of the most heinous things
that ever was done ; in many respects the most horrid of
all acts ; but consider it as it was willed and ordered of God,
in the extent of his designs and views, it was the most ad
mirable and glorious of all events ; and God willing the
event was the most holy volition of God, that ever was
made known to men ; and God's act in ordering it, was a
divine act, which, above all others, manifests the moral ex
cellency of the Divine Being.
The consideration of these things may help us to a suffi
cient answer to the cavils of Arminians, concerning what
has been supposed by many Calvinists, of a distinction be
tween a secret and revealed Will of God, and their diver
sity one from the other; supposing that the Calvinists
herein ascribe inconsistent Wills to the Most High:
which is without any foundation. God's secret and re
vealed Will, or, in other words, his disposing and precep
tive Will, may be diverse, and exercised in dissimilar acts,
the one in disapproving and opposing, the other in willing
and determining, without any inconsistence. Because,
although these dissimilar exercises of the Divine Will may,
in some respects, relate to the same things, yet, in strict
ness, they have different and contrary objects, the one evil
and the other good. Thusj for instance, the crucifixion of
Christ was a thing contrary to the revealed or preceptive
Will of God ; because, as it was viewed and done by his
malignant murderers, it was a thing infinitely contrary to the
holy nature of God, and so necessarily contrary to the holy
inclination of his heart revealed in his law. Yet this does
not at all hinder but that the crucifixion of Christ, con
sidered with all those glorious consequences, which were
within the view of the Divine Omniscience, might be in
deed, and therefore might appear to God to be, a glorious
event; and consequently be agreeable to his Will, though
this Will may be secret, i. e. not revealed in God's law.
And thus considered, the crucifixion of Christ was not evil,
but good. If the secret exercises of God's Will were of a
kind that is dissimilar, and contrary to his revealed Will,
respecting the same, or like objects ; if the objects of both
were good, or both evil ; then, indeed, to ascribe contrary
kinds of volition or inclination to God, respecting these
objects, would be to ascribe an inconsistent Will to God :
but to ascribe to Him different and opposite exercises of
heart, respecting different objects, and objects contrary one
to another, is so far from supposing God's Will to be in
consistent with itself, that it cannot be supposed consistent
with itself any other way. For any being to have a Will
of choice respecting good, and, at the same time, a Will of
rejection and refusal respecting evil, is to be very consist
ent : but the contrary, viz. to have the same Will towards
these contrary objects, and to choose and love both good
and evil, at the same time, is to be very inconsistent.
There is no inconsistence in supposing, that God may
hate a thing as it is in itself, and considered simply as evil,
and yet that it may be his Will it should come to pass,
considering all consequences. I believe, there is no person
of good understanding, who will venture to say, he is cer
tain that it is impossible it should be best, taking in the
whole compass and extent of existence, and all consequences
in the endless series of events, that there should be such a
thing as moral evil in the world.* . And, if so, it will cer
tainly follow, that an infinitely wise Being, who always
chooses what is best, must choose that there should be
such a thing. And, if so, then such a choice is not evil,
such only in a partial view ; and, with respect to the whole system, they
are goods."
Ibid. p. 37. " Whence then comes evil, is the question that hath, in all
ages, been reckoned the Gordian knot in philosophy. And, indeed, if we
own the existence of evil in the world in an absolute sense, we diametrically
contradict what hath been just now proved of God. For if there be any
evil in the system, that is not good with respect to the whole, then is the
whole not good, but evil ; or, at best, very imperfect : and an author must
be as his workmanship is ; as is the effect, such is the cause. But tbe solu
tion of this difficulty is at hand; That thereisno evil in the universe. What!
Are there no pains, no imperfections ? Is there no misery, no vice in the
world ? or are not these evils ? Evils indeed they are ; that is, those of one
sort are hurtful, and those of the other sort are equally hurtful, and abomi
nable : but they are not evil or mischievous with respect to the whole ?"
Ibid. p. 42. " But he is, at the same time, said to create evil, darkness,

Sect. IX.

OF THE EXISTENCE OF SIN, &c.

79

but a wise and holy choice. And if so, then that Provi
dence which is agreeable to such a choice, is a wise and
holy Providence. Men do will sin as sin, and so are the
authors and actors of it : they love it as sin, and for evil
ends and purposes. God does not will sin as sin, or for
the sake of any thing evil ; though it be his pleasure so to
order things, that, he permitting, sin will come to pass, for
the sake of the great good that by his disposal shall be the
consequence. His willing to order things so that evil
should come to pass, for the sake of the contrary good, is
no argument that he does not hate evil, as evil : and if so,
then it is no reason why he may not reasonably forbid evil
as evil, and punish it as such.
The Arminians themselves must be obliged, whether
they will or no, to allow a distinction of God's Will,
amounting to just the same thing that Calvinists intend by
their distinction of a secret and revealed Will. They must
allow a distinction of those things which God thinks best
should be, considering all circumstances and consequences,
and so are agreeable to his disposing Will, and those things
which he loves, and are agreeable to his nature, in them
selves considered. Who is there that will dare to say, that
the hellish pride, malice, and cruelty of devils, are agreeable
to God, and what he likes and approves ? And yet, I
trust, there is no christian divine but will allow, that it is
agreeable to God's Will so to order and dispose things
concerning them, so to leave them to themselves, and give
(hem up to their own wickedness, that this perfect wicked
ness should be a necessary consequence. Dr. Whitby's
words plainly suppose and allow it* These following
things may be laid down as maxims of plain truth, and
indisputable evidence.
1. That God is a perfectly happy Being, in the most ab
solute and highest sense possible.
2. That it will follow from hence, that God is free from
every thing that is contrary to happiness ; and so, that in
strict propriety of speech, there is no such thing as any
pain, grief, or trouble, in God.
3. When any intelligent being is really crossed and
disappointed, and things are contrary to what he truly de
sires, he is the less pleased, or has less pleasure, his pleasure
and happiness is diminished, and he suffers what is dis
agreeable to him, oris the subject of something that is of a
nature contrary to joy and happiness, even pain and grief.-f
From this last axiom it follows, that if no distinction is
to be admitted between God's hatred of sin, and his Will
with respect to the event and the existence of sin, as the
all-wise Determiner of all events, under the view of all
consequences through the whole compass and series of
things ; I say, then it certainly follows, that the coming to
pass of every individual act of sin is truly, all things con
sidered, contrary to his Will, and that his Will is really
crossed in it ; and this in proportion as he hates it. And
as God's hatred of sin is infinite, by reason of the infinite
contrariety of his Holy Nature to sin ; so his Will is in
finitely crossed, in every act of sin that happens. Which
is as much as to say, he endures that which is infinitely
disagreeable to him, by means of every act of sin that he
sees committed. And, therefore, as appears by the pre
ceding positions, he endures truly and really, infinite grief
or pain from every sin. And so he must be infinitely
crossed, and suffer infinite pain, every day, in millions of
millions of instances : he must continually be the subject
of an immense number of real, and truly infinitely great
crosses and vexations. Which would be to make him in
finitely the most miserable of all Beings.
If any objector should say ; all that these things amount
to, is, that God may do evil that good may come ; which
is justly esteemed immoral and sinful in men ; and there
fore may be justly esteemed inconsistent with the moral
perfections of God. I answer, that for God to dispose and
permit evil, in the manner that has been spoken of, is not
confusion ; and yet to do no evil, but to be the author of good only. He is
called the " Father of lights," the Author of " every perfect and good gift,
with whom there is no variableness nor shadow of turning," who " tempt-
eth no man," but " giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not." And

ft

fret, by the prophet (Isa. xiv. 7.) he is introduced saying of himself, " I
orm light and create darkness ; I make peace, and create evil : I the Lord,

do all these things." What is the meaning, the plain language of all this,
but that the Lord deiighteth in goodness, and (as the scripture speaks)
evil is " his strange work ?" He intends and pursues the universal good of
bis creation : and the evil which happens, is not permitted for its own sake,

to do evil that good may come ; for it is not to do evil at
all. — In order to a thing being morally evil, there must be
one of these things belonging to it, either it must be a thing
unfit and unsuitable in its own nature ; Of it must have a
bad tendency ; or it must proceed from an evil disposition,
and be done for an evil end. But neither of these things
can be attributed to God's ordering and permitting such
events, as the immoral acts of creatures, for good ends.
(1.) It is not unfit in its own nature, that he should do so.
For it is in its own nature fit, that infinite wisdom, and not
blind chance, should dispose moral good and evil in the
world . And it is fit, that the Being who has infinite wisdom,
and is the Maker, Owner, and Supreme Governor of the
world, should take care of that matter. And, therefore, there
is no unfitness or unsuitableness in his doing it. It may be
unfit, and so immoral, for any other beings to go about to
order this affair; because they are not possessed of a wis
dom that in any manner fits them for it; and, in other
respects, they are not fit to be trusted with this affair ;
nor does it belong to them, they not being the owners and
lords of the universe.
We need not be afraid to affirm, that if a wise and good
man knew with absolute certainty it would be best, all
things considered, that there should be such a thing as
moral evil in the world, it would not be contrary to his
wisdom and goodness, for him to choose that it should be
so. It is no evil desire, to desire good, and to desire that
which, all things considered, is best. And it is no unwise '
choice, to choose that that should be, which it is best
should be ; and to choose the existence of that thing con
cerning which this is known, viz. that it is best it should
be, and so is known in the whole to be most worthy to be
chosen. On the contrary, it would be a plain defect in
wisdom and goodness, for him not to choose it. And the
reason why he might not order it, if he were able, would
not be because he might not desire it, but only the order
ing of that matter does not belong to him. But it is no
harm for him who is, by right, and in the greatest pro
priety, the Supreme Orderer of all things, to order every
thing in such a manner, as it would be a point of wisdom
in him to choose that they should be ordered. If it would
be a plain defect of wisdom and goodness in a being, not
to choose that that should be, which he certainly knows it
would, all things considered, be best should be, (as was
but now observed,) then it must be impossible for a Being
who has no defect of wisdom and goodness, to do other
wise than choose it should be; and that, for this very
reason, because he is perfectly wise and good. And if it
be agreeable to perfect wisdom and goodness for him to
choose that it should be, and the ordering of all things
supremely and perfectly belongs to him, it must be agree
able to infinite wisdom and goodness, to order that it
should be. If the choice is good, the ordering and dis-
fosing things according to that choice must also be good.
t can be no harm in one to whom it belongs " to do his
Will in the armies of heaven, and amongst the inhabitants
of the earth," to execute a good volition. If this Will be
good, and the object of his Will be, all things considered,
good and best, then the choosing or willing it is not willing
evil that good may come. And if so, then his ordering, ac
cording to that Will, is not doing evil that good may come.
2. It is not of a bad tendency, for the Supreme Being
thus to order and permit that moral evil to be, which it is
best should come to pass. For that it is of good tendency,
is the very thing supposed in the point now in question 
Christ's crucifixion, though a most horrid fact in them that
perpetrated it, was of a most glorious tendency as permit
ted and ordered of God.
3. Nor is there any need of supposing, it proceeds from
any evil disposition or aim ; for by the supposition, what is
aimed at is good, and good is the actual issue, in the final
result of things.J
or through any pleasure in evil, but because it is requisite to the greater
good pursued."
* Whitby on the five Points, Edit. 2. 300, 305. 309.
t Certainly it is not less absurd and unreasonable, to talk of God's Will
and Desires being truly and properly crossed, without his suffering any
uneasiness, or any thing grievous or disagreeable, than it is to talk of some
thing that may be called a revealed Will, which may, in some respect, be
different from a secret purpose, which purpose may be fulfilled, when the
other is opposed.
I From the whole strain of our author's defence of his principles, in refer-

30

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

SECT. X.
Concerning sin's first Entrance into the world.
The things which have already been offered, may serve
to obviate or clear many of the objections which might be
ence to the existence of sin in the universe, though there are many excel
lent remarks interspersed, and sound reasoning as far as his data would
admit, yet he is evidently embarrassed; makes concessions which his
general principles of moral necessity did not require, and shelters himself
under covers that afford him in reality no effectual protection. To say,
that the existence of sin is only a common difficulty, which belongs to every
hypothesis — that though God is the author of sin, in some sense, yet he is
not the agent, therefore the phrase should be disliked and rejected that
though God wills the event of sin, yet he wills it not as an evil, but for ex
cellent ends — that the events of moral evils are disposed by wisdom — that
God may be the orderer and disposer of moral evil, which in the agent is
infinitely evil, but in the orderer of it no evil at all — that in order to a thing
being morally evil it must be unfit and unsuitable, or of a bad tendency,
or from an evil disposition ; but that in willing the event of sin neither can
be attributed to God — that if a wise and good man knew, with absolute cer
tainty, that it would be best, all things considered, there should be moral
evil, he might choose that it should be so— that the reason why he might
not order it, if he were able, would not be because he might not desire, but
only the ordering of that matter does not belong to him— and that, in the
language of Turnbull, " there is no evil in the universe, — no absolute evil ;
sins are evils only in a partial view, but with respect to the whole system
they are not evil or mischievous, but goods,'"' 6fc. to say these things, and
more of a similar cast, is not calculated to satisfy a mind that wants the best
evidence which the nature of the case will admit ; and we strongly suspect,
from his manner of writing, that our author's own mind was not satisfied
with the solution which he has attempted.
In former notes we have had occasion only to explain principles adopted ;
or to point out others either more evident, or more radical, on which those
of the author were founded, or with which they stood inseparably connected.
But at the close of the present section we feel ourselves obliged to attempt,
at least, the rectification of his principles; or perhaps more properly, to
point out other principles, which, we conceive, are attended with no such
embarrassment, are exposed to no self-contradiction, and which represent
the Great Supreme in a much more amiable light. The task is indeed
arduous ; but let it not be thought impossible ; nor let the imperfection of
language be confounded with the inadequacy of principles. And while we
solicit the candour of the reader— whereby he will be prepared to make
such allowances as the nature of the subject requires, be prevented from
drawing hasty conclusions of the impracticability of bringing the subject of
inquiry to a satisfactory issue, or of presumption in attempting it — we no less
demand a strictness of examination. The real inquirer after truth, tbe
christian divine, and the moral philosophers, should be solicitous, not to
have the " last word," in controversy, but to make all possible advances in
ascertaining the genuine grounds of acknowledged truths, in discovering
radical principles, and in ascertaining their just bearings and tendencies.
1. The true point of inquiry is — not whether there be moral evil, or
whether God be just ? but — how the actual existence of sin, or moral evil, in
the universe, is to be reconciled with the moral perfections and character of
God? Therefore, the thing wanted is a middle term, or argumentative
medium, whereby it may be shown that this proposition is true, viz. There
is no real inconsistence between the existence of sin and the moral perfec
tions of God.
2. We may therefore consider the following propositions as first principles :
AXIOMS.
7 There does exist in the universe moral evil.
/I. God is infinitely free from injustice, unholiness, and all imperfections.
• -Hence, COROLLARY.
There is no real inconsistence between the existence of moral evil and
the moral perfections of God.
3. Now the question returns, What is the best evidence that there is no
such inconsistency? Those who are satisfied with these plain propositions
the axioms, and corollary, may have the evidence of faith, that there is no
inconsistence between the subject and predicate of the last proposition.
They may know so much of God as to be assured, that the existence of sin
in the world is no impeachment of the moral character of the Most High.
For such evidence it behoves us to be thankful. Millions are now in heaven,
who enjoyed no other evidence while on earth than that of faith. But this
is no sufficient reason why those who have opportunity should make no
further inquiries into the subject. Some, indeed, suppose, that no rational
evidence is in the present state attainable by man. But why any should so
conclude it is difficult to say, except it be, that they wish to make their own
minds the standard of all others, or their own attainments the ne plus ultra
of moral philosophy. Such persons are not likely to acknowledge or per
ceive the real evidence, on supposition that it is laid before them, as their
minds will be strongly prejudiced against all reasoning on the subject.
4. One thing, however, is incontrovertible, as necessarily connected with
the axioms, that the existence of moral evil, and the spotless and infinitely
excellent moral character of God, are perfectly consistent : and therefore
there must be somewhere good evidence of it And another thing is equally
plain, that the brighter the evidence we have of the truth of the proposition
which asserts the consistency of the two axioms, the more will be our ac
quaintance with God's real character, and the real nature of sin, which all
must allow to be advantageous. To which we may add; that increased
evidence of such a proposition is far from being injurious, may be further
inferred from this consideration, that the higher any beings rise in holiness
and happiness, the more clear will be that evidence to their view.
5. The terms of the question are so plain, and so generally understood,
that it is scarcely necessary to notice them ; we may, however, briefly ob
serve, that moral evil is what stands in direct opposition to the moral cha
racter of God; and that this latter includes universal rectitude, or holiness,
and perfect benevolence. Therefore, POSTULATE.
Whatever is perfectly consistent with universal rectitude, and perfect be
nevolence, is consistent with the moral perfections of God. The reader
will observe, that what is asserted of rectitude and benevolence, is differ
ent ; the one is said to be universal and the other perfect only. Every at
tribute of Jehovah is in itself both perfect and universal ; but not rela
tively so. Thus his rectitude is both perfect in itself, and universal witb
respect to its object ; but his benevolence, however infinitely perfect, is re
stricted asto its objects, both in extent and in degree. And this restric
tion is necessary two ways :

raised concerning sin's first coming into the world; as
though it would follow from the doctrine maintained, that
God must be the author of the first sin, through his so
disposing things, that it should necessarily follow from his
permission, that the sinful act should be committed, &c.
I need not, therefore, stand to repeat what has been said
6. First, the objects of benevolence, at least in this world, compose a
system ; and every system, whether natural or moral, implies a subordina
tion and comparative superiority of parts: therefore the very idea of a
systematic whole implies a restriction of benevolence as to extent and
degree f Secondly, the exercise of benevolence is an exercise of will; and the
exercise of will implies diversity of objects, and a preference of some,
rather than others, to occupy the more excellent parts of the whole system ;
so that perfect universality, or a strict equality of benevolence, without a
distinguishing preference, is necessarily excluded by the very nature of
benevolence in exercise. , .
8. Divine benevolence, therefore, admits of gradations, from the smallest
degree conceivable to the utmost extent of the system ; while rectitude
admits of no such degree. Were we to attempt an illustration of so ab
stracted a subject by mental images, we might say, that rectitude iii its
exercise towards the creatures, may be compared to a plain surface as
widely extended as the universe, of infinitely perfect polish, and without a
flaw in any part Hence, in its exercise, it is universal as its objects ; and
can no more admit of degrees, than a perfect polish can admit of flaws. On
the contrary, benevolence may be compared to a cone, in an inverted form,
the vertex of which is in contact with a point of that plane, and which, from
the least possible degree, is capable of rising at sovereign pleasure, in its
exercise towards the universe, to such a height, as that the base of it may
be, or may not be, of equal extent with the plane below.
9. From just views of benevolence we may infer, that its exercise is
purely free, and undeserved by the creature ; being the fruit of will, choice,
and sovereign pleasure. The absence of it, with respect to creatures,
implies no flaw in perfect rectitude. Every degree of benevolence, from
the .least to the greatest, must be altogether optional. Perfect rectitude,
with respect to created beings, and each individual creature, may subsist,
without any more benevolence than what is necessarily included in mere
existence 10. This being the case, the state of the universe, in reference to perfect
rectitude, and irrespective of benevolence, may be further compared to a
balance in perfect equilibrium. The least weight of benevolence makes it
preponderate, proportionally, in favour of virtue and happiness ; but with
out which weight neither could take place.
II. But, according to what has been said in a former note, every created
being is the subject of passive power ; which, with respect to its influence on
the creature, is, in some respect, the opposite of benevolence. In some,
not in all respects. Benevolence is an exercise of will, and implies an agent ;
but passive power is a quality or principle inseparable from every creature,
and from the universe at large. In reference to a former illustration, this
may be compared to another cone exactly opposite, the vertex of which,
from below, meets that of the other in the same plane. The intermediate
point, and indeed every point in the same plane, may represent the perfect
rectitude of God towards every individual ; the inverted cone above, divine
benevolence; the cone below, passive power, with its base necessarily
equal to tbe whole plane, as it respects tbe created universe.
12. Hence we may say that the neutral state of any being is placed in the
plane ; his degree of influence from passive power, the predisposing cause
of vice, is represented by a corresponding given part of the cone below ; and
his degree of predisposition to virtue from divine benevolence, is represented
by a corresponding given part of the cone above. Or, to change the com
parison, if a perfectly poised balance be made to represent perfect rectitude,
then we may suppose weights at each end in all possible proportions, from
the smallest to the greatest. Passive power not being the effect of will, but
of the relative nature of things, and inseparably connected with one end of
the balance, it is evident, that it can be counteracted in its tendency only by
the weight of benevolence, or sovereign pleasure. Therefore, whoever on
earth or in heaven, rises to, and is confirmed in virtue, his attainment must
be the effect of mere benevolence. And whoever on earth, or in hell, falls
into, and is confirmed in vice, his deterioration must be tbe effect of passive
power, as the predisposing cause of vice, which nothing in the universe can
counteract but sovereign, free, unmerited benevolence.
13. Consequently, all the good and happiness in the universe is the effect
of benevolence, or sovereign pleasure, and exists above the plane of perfect
rectitude ; but all the evil and misery in the world is the effect of passive
power, in union with free agency, ana exists below tbe plane of rectitude.
The one generates virtue, and raises to happiness and heaven; the other
generates vice, and sinks to misery and hell.
14. Every thing in the universe planned, decreed, and effected by Jeho
vah, is a structure of benevolence. All he effects is good, and only good.
The evil that exists is not his work. Benevolence has decreed an endless
chain of antecedents, including the natural and moral worlds ; and the con
sequents peculiar to them result therefrom with infallible certainty. But
other antecedents, in this world, and in hell, are constantly interposed by
free agents under the influence of passive power, whose consequences also
follow with equal infallible certainty. To the eye of created intelligence
these counter positions, and opposite consequents, appear blended in an in
extricable manner, like the different rays of light in the same pencil, different
gasses in a given space, and different subtle fluids in the same body. But
to the eye of Omniscience they appear perfectly distinct, in their proper
nature, in all their directions and bearings, in all their tendencies and effects.
15. Instead, therefore, of saying, " There is no evil in the universe," we
should say, " There is much evilin the universe ; there is much on earth.
and more in hell ; but none of God's appoint ment." It is demonstrable, that
passive power can no more be an object of appointment, than the most
direct contradictions; and yet it is equally demonstrable that such a prin
ciple is the inseparable concomitant of every creature. It is of prior con
sideration to moral agency ; for whatever is a property of a created nature
as such, is of prior consideration to the agency of that creature. Consequently
it is a property neither divinely appointed, nor yet a moral evil.
16. Liberty, in one sense, bears the same relation to good and evil, as
rectitude does to benevolence and passive power. Liberty in itself is
equally a medium between good and evil, as rectitude is between benevo
lence and passive power; and the medium is of a nature perfectly distinct
from both extremes. To which we may add, that liberty united to, or
under the influence of, sovereign benevolence, generates virtue ; but liberty
united to, or under the influence of, passive power, generates vice.
17. From the premises it may be seen, that the existence of all evil, and
especially moral evil, in the universe, is not inconsistent with the moral
perfections of God. It is evident also that in no sense whatever, except by
a total misapplication of terms, can God be said to be " the author of sin."
Nor can it be said that God " wills the event of sin;" but the contrary is
plain, that he does not will it. either in a decretive, a legislative, or any
other sense.

Sect:' X.

CONCERNING SIN'S FIRST ENTRANCE.

81

already, about such a necessity not proving God to be the
author of sin, in any ill sense, or in any such sense as to
infringe any liberty of man, concerned in his moral agency,
or capacity of blame, guilt, and punishment.
But. should it nevertheless be said, that if God, when
he had made man, might so order his circumstances, that
from these, together with his withholding further assist
ance and divine influence, his sin would infallibly follow,
why might not God as well have first made man with a
fixed prevailing principle of sin in his heart ?
I answer, 1. It was meet, if sin did come into exist
ence, and appear in the world, it should arise from the
imperfection which properly belongs to a creature, as such,
and should appear so to do, that it might appear not to be
from God as tne efficient or fountain. But this could not
have been, if man had been made at first with sin in his
heart ; nor unless the abiding principle and habit of sin
were first introduced by an evil act of the creature. If
sin had not arisen from the imperfection of the creature, it
would not have been so visible, that it did not arise from
God, as the positive cause, and real source of it  But it
would require room that cannot be here allowed, fully to con
sider all the difficulties which have been started, concern
ing the first Entrance of sin into the world. — And therefore,
2. I would observe, that objections against the doctrine
that has been laid down, in opposition to the Arminian
notion of liberty, from these difficulties, are altogether im
pertinent ; because no additional difficulty is incurred, by
adhering to a scheme in this manner differing from theirs,
and none would be removed or avoided, by agreeing with,
and maintaining theirs. Nothing that the Arminians say,
about the contingence, or self-determining power of man's
Will, can serve to explain, with less difficulty, how the first
sinful volition of mankind could take place, and man be
18. The great source of confusion into which many authors have plunged
themselves, is, that they draw too hasty an inference in attempting to make
not hindering an event to be ultimately the same as willing it. Upon
their data, indeed, it may be true, while they regard every event alike to
be the effect of divine energy, and even the worst, in order to answer a
good end. And this will always be the case, for self-consistency requires
it, until we see and acknowledge a metaphysical negative cause of moral
evil, and an eternal nature of things antecedent to all will, with their in
fallible effects, when not counteracted by sovereign benevolence.
19. Let us now view the subject in the light of terms a little different.
Much error often arises through the defect oilanguagc ; and where there is
danger of misapprehension, it may be of use to change expressions. Hereby
a difficult subject may be taken by different handles, or a reader may ap
prehend it by one handle, wbich he could not by another. Let us then
substitute the word equity instead of rectitude, and undeserved favour
instead of benevolence. POSTULATE.
Whatever is perfectly consistent with equity is also perfectly consistent
with the moral character of God.
20. Whatever is the pure effect of equity and the nature of things, or
essential truth, united, cannot be inconsistent with the moral perfections of
God ; the existence of moral evil in the universe is the pure effect of these ;
therefore the existence of moral evil in the universe cannot be inconsistent
with the moral perfections of God.
21. The only ground of hesitation here is, How moral evil is the effect of
equity and the nature of things ? Liberty itself is a natural good, and there
fore is the fruit of divine favour; and the mere exercise of liberty must be
ascribed to tho same cause. But he who is hypothetically free to good,
must be in like manner free to evil. For this hypothetical freedom either
to good or to evil is what constitutes tbe morality of his acts of choice.
Take away this hypothetical freedom, and you take away the essence of
moral agency. It is plain, then, that to possess this freedom and conse
quent moral agency, is not inconsistent with the equity, rectitude, or moral
perfections of God. Yet it is demonstrable that freedom cannot be in
fluenced in its choice, so as to constitute it virtuous or vicious, holy or sin
ful, morally right or wrong, good or evil, but from two causes radically ;
divine favour and passive power. If the agent be under the influence of
divine favour, a happy result, in the same proportion, is secured by the
same essential truth as renders the choice of the great l am, infallibly good ;
which no one will say is inconsistent with the divine perfections. For
though favour raises the agent above what rigid or pure equity can do,
there is no inconsistence between them ; any more than between paying a
just debt, and bestowing also a free gift in addition. But if the agent De
not under the influence of undeserved favour, the only alternative is, that
he must necessarily be under the influence of passive power. And as no
thing can possibly secure a happy result but undeserved favour, or bene
volent influence, a negative cause becomes an infallible ground of certainty
of an opposite result. Again,
22. when God gives to creatures what is their due, he deals with them in
equity, but when God gives them less grace than is actually sufficient to
secure from sin, or will in fact do so, he gives them their due. Were it
otherwise, it would be impossible for any to sin. If to give them so much
favour, or benevolent influence, as would actually preserve them from sin,
were their due, it is plain that the God of equity wouloVgive them their due,
and preserve them from sin accordingly. But the fact is widely other
wise. They are not all preserved from sin, though all might be, through the
interposition of sovereign favour ; therefore it is not their clue, or equity does
notreouireit. 23. If it be said, It is owing to their own fault ; it is very true ; but
how came any creature to be faulty? God made angels and men up
right. And he has always dealt with every creature, however debased by
sin, in equity. He has also given to every creature capable of sinning, li
berty unconstrained. He often influences the disposition by benevolence ;
and the goodness of God, by providential and gracious dispensations,
leadeth to repentance. But never has he dealt with any unjustly, or given
VOL. I. G

justly charged with the blame of it. To say, the Will was
self-determined, or determined by free choice, in that sinful
volition — which is to say, that the first sinful volition was
determined by a foregoing sinful volition— is no solution
of the difficulty. It is an odd way of solving difficulties,
to advance greater, in order to it. To say, two and two
make nine, or, that a child begat his father, solves no
difficulty : no more does it, to say, the first sinful act of
choice was before the first sinful act of choice, and chose
and determined it, and brought it to pass. Nor is it any
better solution, to say, the first sinful volition chose, deter
mined, and produced itself; which is to say, it was before
it was. Nor will it go any further towards helping us over
the difficulty, to say, the first sinful volition arose accident
ally, without any cause at all ; any more than it will solve
that difficult question, How the world could be made out of
nothing? to say, it came into being out of nothing, with
out any cause ; as has been already observed. And if we
should allow, that the first evil volition should arise by
perfect accident, without any cause; it would relieve no
difficulty, about God laving the blame of it to man. For
how was man to blame for perfect accident, which had no
cause, and which, therefore, he was not the cause of, any
more thanWf it came by some external cause ? — Such kind
of solutions are no better, than if ,some person, going about
to solve some of the strange mathematical paradoxes, about
infinitely great and small quantities — as, that some infinite
ly great quantities are infinitely greater than some other
infinitely great quantities ; and also that some infinitely
small quantities, are infinitely less than others, which yet
are infinitely little — should say, that mankind have been
under a mistake, in supposing a greater quantity to exceed
a smaller ; and that a hundred, multiplied by ten, makes
but a single unit.*
them less than their due. Not a fallen spirit, however deeply sunk, can ve
rify such a charge. Assuredly, they have destroyed themselves, but in
God is the only help. A principle, of which God is not the author, as be
fore explained in union with the abuse of their liberty, satisfactorily ac
counts for the fact Our evil is of ourselves ; but all our good is from God.
24. From what has been said, we may safely draw this inference, that the
existence of moral evil in the universe, is not inconsistent with the moral
perfections of God. And the proposition would be equally true, had tbe
proportion of moral evil been greater than it is. But some will continue to
cavil, it is probable, because every objection is not professedly answered,
and some difficulties, or divine arcana, will always remain. They will
still be asking, why benevolence is not more universal, and thereby moral
evil altogether prevented ? Why the cone (to which benevolence has been
compared) is not a cylinder, whose base is commensurate with the plane of
creatural existence, and whose top rises ad infinitum ? They might as well
inquire, Why is not every atom a sun ? Why not every drop an ocean ?
Why not every moment an age ? Why not every worm an angel ? Why
not the solar system as large as all material systems united? Why the
number of angels and men not a thousand times greater ? And, to complete
the absurdity of demanding evidence for every thing, as an objection
against demonstrable truth, Why is not any given part on the surface of a
cone, a cylinder, or a globe, not in the centre ? To all such inquiries —and
if advanced as objections impertinent inquiries— it is sufficient to reply,
Infinite Wisdom has planned an universe, in which divine benevolence
appears wonderfully conspicuous ; and even the evils, whether natural or
moral, which are intermixed, and which in their origin are equally remote
from divine causation and from chance, are overruled to answer purposes
the most benevolent, and the most wonderfully sublime.
COROLLARIES.
1. The only possible way of avoiding the most ruinous consequences —
moral evil and misery — is to direct the will, through the instrumentality
of its freedom, to a state of union to Goo\ submission to his will, and an
imitation of his moral perfections, according to his most merciful appoint
ment. 2. To creatures fallen below the line of rectitude, and yet the subjects of
hope, prayer to God for grace, undeserved favour, or benevolent influence,
is an exercise the most becoming, a duty the most necessary and impor
tant, and a privilege of the first magnitude. — W.
* On the subject of the origin of moral evil, our author is more concise
than usual. His design in this very short section, is merely to show, that
the difficulties which have been started, concerning the first entrance of
sin into the world, are such as cannot be discussed in a small compass;
and, that the Arminian cause gains nothing by urging them. That cause
has been sufficiently examined in several parts of this Inquiry ; but the
true and precise origin of moral evil, requires further notice. It is indeed
of infinitely greater importance to be acquainted with that celestial art,
and that sacred influence, whereby we may emerge from the gulf of sin to
holiness and heaven, than to be accurately versed in the science of its
origination. And so it is far more important to see objects, and improve
sight, than to be able to demonstrate the theory of vision ; to recover health,
and to use it aright, than to have skill to ascertain the cause and the symp
tom of disease ; to contribute vigorously in extinguishing a fire that threat
ens todestroy our dwellings and ourselves, than to know the author of the
calamity; to participate the effects of varied seasons, than to understand,
astronomically, the precise reason of those variations. The mariner may
navigate without knowing why his needle points to the north ; and the celes
tial bodies in, the solar "system were as equally regular in their motions
before Sir Isaac Newton had existence, as they have been since he has
ascertained those laws and proportions according to which they move.
And yet the science of optics is not useless, the healing art is not to be de
spised, to discover an incendiary is desirable, and never is that philosopher
who attempts to ascertain the causes of natural phenomena, held up as
blameworthy. In like manner, though millions are delivered from the

82

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV,

SECT. XL
Of a supposed Inconsistence between these principles and
God's moral character.
The things which have been already observed, may be
sufficient to answer most of the objections, and silence the
influence of sin, and raised to the most exalted eminence of happiness, who
never knew, or even sought to know, scientifically, the origination of sin;
this is no good reason that such knowledge is useless, or even unimportant.
As we do not wish to swell these notes unnecessarily, we beg leave to refer
to what wc have said elsewhere on the subject, particularly in notes on the
former part of this Treatise, on Dr. Doddridge's Lectures, and on a Sermon,
concerning "Predestination to Life," second edition, in connexion with
what we now add. (See Doddr. Works, vol. iv. p. 363. &c. vol. v. p. 208,
&c. Notes.) — As the basis of our present demonstration, we begin with
proposing a few axioms. AXIOMS.
1. No effect can exist without an adequate cause. On this truth are
founded all reasonings and all metaphysical evidence.
2. Sin is an effect, and has a cause. On this truth are founded all moral
means and all religious principles.
3. The origin of moral evil cannot be moral evil ; or, the cause of sin
cannot be sin itself. Except we admit this, the same thing may be and not
be, at the same time, and in the same respect — the same thing may be sin
and no sin — cause and no cause — or, contrary to the first axiom, a contingent
event may be the cause of itself, or may exist without an adequate cause.
4. There is no positive cause but what is ultimately from GwA. If other
wise, something positive may begin to be without a positive cause; or,
something may exist without an adequate cause ; which is the same as an
effect to exist without a cause, contrury to the first axiom.
5. There may be a negative, metaphysical cause, where there is no de
cretive divine operation to effect it v\ ere there no negative metaphysical
causes, such ideas as absence, ignorance, folly, weakness, and the like,
could have no metaphysical effects ; contrary to universal experience. And
we must renounce all ideas of congruity to suppose that such things are
the mere effects of divine decree and operation.
Having premised these positions as axioms not to be disputed, we proceed
to make a few observations, which, though equally true, may not be
equally obvious.
6. The origin of moral evil cannot be one principle. For were it one, it
must be either a positive or negative cause. If positive, it would be ulti
mately from God; but this would exclude a moral alternative, the very
essence of moral agency, and consequently be incompatible with the
existence of moral evil. But if a negative cause, it must ultimately be
referred to the prime negative cause, which can be no other than passive
power, as before explained; which is nothing independent of positive
existence ; and consequently can have no effect but in union with positive
existence. 7. It remains, then, that the origin of moral evil is a compound of two
causes at least. Yet not more than two ; because, as we shall see, these
are sufficient, and more would be superfluous, in order to produce the effect
8. Now the question remains, What are these compounded principles ?
Are they two positive causes, two negative, or one of each ? They cannot
be two positive causes ; for then they might be ultimately reduced to one,
the first cause : as before proved, gr. 4, 6. Nor can they be two negative
ones ; for ultimately there is but one cause properly negative. Consequently,
9. The first entrance of sin into the world, or the true and precise origin
of moral evil, may be found in two causes united : the one positive and
the other negative. But neither of which is morally good or morally evil ;
if the cause were morally good, the effect could not be morally bad; andif
morally evil, it would be contrary to the third axiom, and to common sense.
These two causes are, first, liberty, a cause naturally good: secondly,
passive power, a cause naturally evil. And these two causes are as neces
sary for the production of moral evil, as two parents for the production of a
human being according to the laws of nature.
9. Dr. Clarke, whose brief account has been more implicitly admitted
than any other, says, that moral evil "arises wholly from the abuse of
liberty; which God gave to his creatures for other purposes, and which
it was reasonable and fit to give them for the perfection and order of the
whole creation : only they, contraryto God's intention and command, have
abused what was necessary for the perfection of the whole, to the corruption
and depravation of themselves." This extract from Dr. Clarke (in his
Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, p. 113. 5th edit.) has
been advanced by celebrated writers, as " containing all that can be ad
vanced with certainty" on the subject. But surely those minds must be
easily satisfied, who can be satisfied with such evidence. Dr. Clarke
allows and proves, that liberty*, a perfection, rather than an evil. How
came it then to produce evil ? He answers, " This arises wholly from the
abuse of liberty." But what is the cause of this effect called "the abuse
of liberty ? " This in fact is the whole of the difficulty, and yet he leaves
it untouched. The free agent fails in the exercise of liberty ; this failure
is an effect; but there is no effect without a cause ; therefore this failure
must have a cause ; and this cause (not the abuse of liberty) must bring
us to the origin of moral evil.
10. What Dr. Clarke has left untouched may yet be ascertained. We
think it has been fairly excluded, by what has been already advanced,
from every thing except liberty and passive power. Therefore, the
abuse of liberty can arise only from its associate. But how can this operate
as a cause of the abuse of liberty ? In order to answer this question, we
must recollect what liberty itself is, viz. a natural power, or instrument of
the mind, capable of producing moral effects. Not a self-determining
Sower, which would be contrary to the first axiom ; and which our author
as abundantly demonstrated to be full of contradictions, and an utter
impossibility. It must, then, be determined by motives. But motives, as
before shown, (in a former note,) are the objects of choice in union with
the state of the mind, as a compound effect. Now the cause why tbe real
good, suppose the chief good, which is absolutely unchangeable, is not
chosen, and an inferior good appears at the instant of choice preferable,
and is in fact preferred, must arise from that pari of the motive which is
the state of the mind.
11. Now there are only two states of the mind conceivable whereby
liberty can be influenced ; the one, a state naturally evil ; the other, a state
morally good. Were we to say, that the state was morally evil, at the first
entrance of sin, we should contradict the third axiom. And were we to
say, that tbe cause was only naturally good, we should contradict the first
axiom. Therefore the cause of the abuse of liberty, is a state naturally
evil. No other cause can possibly be assigned, without involving a con
tradiction. But what is a state naturally evil, and without any mixture of
moral evil ? It can be no other but a state under the influence of what we
call passive power.

great exclamations of Arminians against the Calvinists,
from the supposed inconsistence of Calvinist'ic principles
with the moral perfections of God, as exercised in his go
vernment of mankind. The consistence of such a doctrine
of necessity as has been maintained, with the fitness and
reasonableness of God's commands, promises and threat
enings, rewards and punishments, has been particularly
12. Let us view the subject in another light. Perfect liberty, in reference
to virtue and vice, the scale of merit and demerit, and its attendant degrees
of happiness or misery, is a medium, standing between all extremes— be
tween virtue and vice, merit and demerit, happiness and misery. If we
regard divine rectitude or equity, according to a former simile, in reference
to the moral system, as an universal plane, liberty may be said to coincide
with it And being a natural perfection, or, when exerted, a good which
has a positive cause, it is the effect of benevolent energy. If the mind be
under unmerited, sovereign, benevolent influence, its liberty attaches itself
to real good ; then the agent rises on the scale of excellence, and therefore
of happiness. But if the mind be under passive influence, or the influence
of passive power, (a depraved nature and confirmed vicious habits being
now out of the question,) its liberty attaches itself to apparent good, in op
position to real ; then vice is generated, the agent sinks on the scale of
deterioration, and consequently of misery.
13. It appears, then, that the will, in the exercise of its freedom, when
producing moral effects, is the instrument of the disposition ; and that the
character of the effect bears an infallible and exact proportion to that of the
predisposing cause. Yet the will in the exercise of choice is so free, that
all constraint, coaction, and impulse, are entirely excluded from that which
constitutes the morality of the act. Here lies the essence of moral agency,
and the ground of accountableness. The agent has a moral alternative ; if
he be differently minded he may choose otherwise than he actually does.
If under benevolent influence, he will, in proportion, infallibly choose aright ;
if under equitable, passive influence, the apparent good will not be the
real one, and consequently the choice will he morally bad. Means, objects
perfectly suitable and sufficient, are exhibited to view ; but these of them
selves would never determine the will, otherwise the same effect would
always follow the same means. Temptations also are presented; these in
like manner of themselves never determine the will, otherwise temptation
and sin would be infallibly connected. Then the holy Jesus could not
have withstood the numerous and powerful solicitations of the tempter.
But why did he withstand all ? Because objects of temptation did not con
stitute the whole of motives ; because objects operate according to the
state of the mind ; and because in him benevolent influence counteracted
passive power. Hence, when the prince of this world came, he found
nothing in him ; and hence he rose to the greatest height of glory, having
" a name above every name."
14. There is no end of objections and cavils, however demonstrative the
proof; for such there have been against all the first principles of religion—
the being of God— a revelation of his will to the human race — the doctrine
of a future state, &c. &c. Some may say. Why should sin be made to
originate in these two things, liberty and passive power ? We answer, it
has been demonstrated, that all metaphysical, positive and negative, caus
ation, in reference to moral evil, is reducible to these two ; and therefore
they might as well ask, Why one and one make two, rather than any other
number ?
15. Others may say. Why not proceed from God alone ? They might as
well ask, Why is not the sun the cause of darkness ? Love, the cause of
enmity? Wisdom, the cause of folly ? Happiness, the cause of misery?
Order, the cause of confusion ? But the effect, it may be said, is the same.
We reply, the assignation of a cause, whether true or false, does not alter
the nature of phenomena. It would be, indeed, a, strange phenomenon,
hitherto unknown, and unknowable, for au hypothesis, however demon
strable, to alter the nature of the things in question. The effects are the
same. Very true. But the question is not about the effects ; the inquiry
is about the true cause of those effects, in opposition to false philosophy.
The effect of moral evil is misery, or deserved suffering. Now does it
make no difference, in justifying the ways of God to men, whether a
rational, immortal being suffer deservedly or undeservedly? To suffer for
moral evil, is to suffer deservedly; but were sin and suffering from God
alone, or the effect of constituted laws, this could not be the case. To say,
that this partial suffering may be ultimately counterbalanced by a resto
ration, is begging the question, that there will be a restoration. And if
there were, what is it better than an apology for past injustice ? To suffer
undeservedly, is to suffer unjustly ; and to punish at all is an act of injus
tice, if undeserved, as well as to punish for ever.
16. It may be again asked, What advantage is there in fixing on this
origin of moral evil, rather than another ? "We reply by putting another
question. Why should we put up with a false cause assigned for any thing ¦*
Surely, phenomena more interesting, more alarming inthtis nature, and
more awful in their consequences, than moral evils, cannot arrest human
observation. And it would be passing strange to suppose, that the ascer
taining of their true cause and origin is not an important part of philosophy,
and deserving of the closest investigation. What can be more dishonourable
to the moral character of Deity, than to make sin originate in his will alone "
Or, if this be its origin, how preposterous to call it moral evil, as distin
guished from natural ! How cruel and unjust, beyond precedent, to punish
it ; and how absurd the idea of threatening punishment for what was irre
versibly appointed!
. 17- Some may say. Why may we not be satisfied with the idea of permis
sion ? If properly understood, we acknowledge that this goes a consider
able way. But we suspect, few seem acquainted with the full implication
of the term. God permits. True; if by it we mean he does not hinder.
1 he free agent acts amiss when he is not hindered. This only shows, that
God might hinder if he pleased ; but it assigns no cause why tbe agent acts
amiss. Permitting or not hindering, implies h cause distinct from divine
causation. And the question returns, what is the cause of sin taking place
when not hindered ? In vain do we fix on chance, or a self-determining
power ; these explain nothing, and in fact are nothing, as our author has de
monstrated various ways. In vain do we say, sin arises from the abuse of
liberty. For tbe question recurs, What is the cause of that abuse ? If this
be not explained, nothing is effected. In vain shall we say, It proceeds
from the cause of causes. For that cause is good only From such a cause
only good can proceed ; and to ascribe sin to this cause is as proper as to say
that moral evil isa good thing, and ought to be rewarded rather than
pumshed. If this be not areprovable mode of calling " evil good, and good
evil," (Isa. v. 20.) we know not what is.
COROLLARIES.
18. Those who renounce the idea of passive power, as before explained,
and its influence on the mind of a free agent, as a negative metaphysical
cause; can never find the true, philosophical cause of vice and sin, and
consequently of deserved suffering. As soon might they ascertain the laws
of the planetary motions, while rejecting the principle of gravitation If it

Sect. XL

OF GOD'S MORAL CHARACTER.

83

considered. The cavils of our opponents, as though our
doctrine of necessity made God the author of sin, have
been answered ; and also their objections against these
principles, as inconsistent with God's sincerity, in his
counsels, invitations and persuasions, has been already
obviated, in what has been observed respecting the con
sistence of what Calvinists suppose, concerning the secret
and revealed Will of God. By that it appears, there is no
repugnance in supposing it may be the secret Will of God,
that his ordination and permission of events should be
such, that it shall be a certain consequence, that a thing
never will come to pass ; which yet it is man's duty to
do, and so God's preceptive Will, that he should do ; and
this is the same thing as to say, God may sincerely com
mand and require him to do it. And if he may be sincere
in commanding him, he may, for the same reason, be sin
cere in counselling, inviting, and using persuasions with
him to do it. Counsels and invitations are manifestations
of God's preceptive Will, or of what God loves, and what
is in itself, and as man's act, agreeable to his heart ; and
not of his disposing Will, and what he chooses as a part of
his own infinite scheme of things. It has been particularly
shewn, Part III. Sect. IV. that such a necessity as has
been maintained, is not inconsistent with the propriety and
fitness of divine commands ; and for the same reason, not
inconsistent with the sincerity of invitations and coun
sels, in the Corollary at the end of that Section. Yea, it
hath been shown, Part III. Sect. VII. Corol. 1. that this
objection of Arminians, concerning the sincerity and use
of divine exhortations, invitations, and counsels, is demon
strably against themselves.
Notwithstanding, I would further observe, that the dif
ficulty of reconciling the sincerity of counsels, invitations,
and persuasions with such an antecedent known fixedness
of all events, as has been supposed, is not peculiar to this
scheme, as distinguished from that of the generality of
Arminians, which acknowledge the absolute foreknowledge
of God : and therefore, it would be unreasonably brought
as an objection against my differing from them. The main
seeming difficulty in the case is this : that God, in coun
selling, inviting, and persuading, makes a show of aiming
at, seeking, and using endeavours for the thing exhorted
and persuaded to ; whereas, it is impossible for any intel
ligent being truly to seek, or use endeavours for a thing,
which he at the same time knows, most perfectly, will not
come to pass ; and that it is absurd to suppose, he makes
the obtaining of a thing his end, in his calls and counsels,
which he, at the same time, infallibly knows will not be
obtained by these means. Now, if God knows this, in
the utmost certainty and perfection, the way by which he
comes by this knowledge makes no difference. If he
knows it is by the necessity which he sees in things, or by
some other means ; it alters not the case. But it is in ef
fect allowed by Arminians themselves, that God's inviting
and persuading men to do things, which he, at the same time,
certainly knows will not be done, is no evidence of insin
cerity ; because they allow, that God has a certain fore
knowledge of all sinful actions and omissions. And as
this is implicitly allowed by most Arminians, so all that
pretend to own the Scriptures to be the word of God, must
be constrained to allow it.— God commanded and coun
selled Pharaoh to let his people go, and used arguments
and persuasions to induce him to it ; he laid before him
arguments taken from his infinite greatness and almighty
power, (Exod. vii. 16.) and forewarned him of the fatal
consequences of his refusal, from time to time ; (chap. viii.
1, 2, 20, 21. ix. 1—5, 13— 17. and x. 3, 6.) He com
manded Moses, and the elders of Israel, to go and beseech
Pharaoh to letthe people go; and at the same time told them,
he knew surely that he would not comply with it. (Exod.
iii. 18, 19.) " And thou shalt come, thou and the elders of
Israel, unto the king of Egypt, and you shall say unto
him, The Lord God of the Hebrews hath met with us ; and
now let us go, we beseech thee, three days' journey into
be asked, What is the link of connexion between this principle and the event ?
We reply, Essential truth, the same truth as connects 2-1-2=4 or 2—1=1.
19. Those who renounce a sovereign, benevolent, physical, holy influ
ence on the mind can never find the true, philosophical origin of virtue and
holiness, and consequently happiness.
20. From the premises we infer, that the highest wisdom, the best in
terest, and the greatest honour of a rational and accountable being, is to
employ his liberty, and all his powers, in the way of absolute submission
G 2

the wilderness, that we may sacrifice unto the Lord our
God :" and, " I am sure, that the king of Egypt will not
let you go.' So our blessed Saviour, the evening wherein
he was betrayed, knew that Peter would shamefully deny
him, before the morning ; for he declares it to him with as
severations, to show the certainty of it ; and tells the dis
ciples, that all of them should be offended because of him
that night; (Matt. xxvi. 31—35. John xiii. 38. Luke xxii.
31 — 34. John xvi. 32.) And yet it was their duty to avoid
these things ; they were very sinful things, which God had
forbidden, and which it was their duty to watch and pray
against ; and they were obliged to do so from the counsels
and persuasions Christ used with them, at that very time,
so to do; (Matt. xxvi. 41 .)" Watch and pray, that ye enter
not into temptation." So that whatever difficulty there can
be in this matter, it can be no objection against any prin
ciples which have been maintained in opposition to the
principles of Arminians ; nor does it any more concern me
to remove the difficulty, than it does them, or indeed all,
that call themselves Christians, and acknowledge the divine
authority of the Scriptures. — Nevertheless, this matter may
possibly (God allowing) be more particularly and largely
considered, in some future discourse on the doctrine of
predestination.* But I would here observe, that however the defenders
of that notion of liberty which I have opposed, exclaim
against the doctrine of Calvinists, as tending to bring men
into doubts concerning the moral perfections of God ; it is
their scheme, and not the scheme of Calvinists, that indeed
is justly chargeable with this. For it is one of their most
fundamental points, that a freedom of Will consisting in
self-determination, without all necessity, is essential to
moral agency. This is the same thing as to say, that such
a determination of the Will, without all necessity, must be
in all intelligent beings, in those things wherein they are
moral agents, or in their moral acts : and from this it will
follow, that God's Will is not necessarily determined, in
any thing he does, as a moral agent, or in any of his acts
that are of a moral nature : So that in all things, wherein
he acts holily, justly, and truly, he does not act necessarily ;
or his Will is not necessarily determined to act holily and
justly ; because, if it were necessarily determined, he
would not be a moral agent in thus acting : his Will would
be attended with necessity ; which, they say, is inconsist
ent with moral agency : " He can act no otherwise ; he is
at no liberty in the affair ; he is determined by unavoidable,
invincible necessity : therefore such agency is no moral
agency ; yea, no agency at all, properly speaking : a neces
sary agent is no agent : he being passive, and subject to
necessity, what he does is no act of his, but an effect of a
necessity prior to any act of his." This is agreeable to
their manner of arguing. Now then, what is become of all
our proof of the moral perfections of God ? How can we
prove, that God certainly will, in any one instance, do that
which is just and holy ; seeing his Will is determined in
the matter by no necessity ? We have no other way of
proving that any thing certainly will be, but only by the
necessity of the event. Where we can see no necessity,
but that the thing may be, or may not be, there we are un
avoidably left at a loss. We have no other way properly
and truly to demonstrate the moral perfections of God, but
the way that Mr. Chubb proves them, (p. 252, 261—263.
of his Tracts,) viz. that God must, necessarily, perfectly
know what is most worthy and valuable in itself, which,
in the nature of things, is best and fittest to be done. And,
as this is most eligible in itself, he, being omniscient, must
see it to be so ; and being both omniscient and self-suffi
cient, cannot have any temptation to reject it ; and so must
necessarily will that which is best. And thus, by this ne
cessity of the determination of God's Will to what is good
and best, we demonstrably establish God's moral cha
racter. Corol. From what has been observed, it appears, that
most of the arguments from Scripture which Arminians
to the divine will ; in supreme affection, fear and love, to the infinite majesty
and self-existent excellence of God ; and in the way of bumble and diligent
obedience, according to the manifestation which God has made for him
self.— W.
* It does not appear that the author did any thing more, towards accom
plishing this design, than to pen some thoughts, probably with a view to an
elaborate treatise, which are included in his Miscellaneous Remarks and
Observations. — W.

84

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

make use of to support their scheme, are no other than
begging the question. For in these they determine in the
first place, that without such a freedom of Will as they
hold, men cannot be proper moral agents, nor the subjects
of command, counsel, persuasion, invitation, promises,
threatenings, expostulations, rewards, and punishments ;
and that without such freedom it is to no purpose for men
to take any care, or use any diligence, endeavours, or
means, in order to their avoiding sin, or becoming holy,
escaping punishment, or obtaining happiness : and having
supposed these things, which are grand things in question
in the debate, then they heap up scriptures, containing
commands, counsels, calls, warnings, persuasions, expos
tulations, promises, and threatenings ; (as doubtless they
may find enough such ; the Bible being confessedly full of
them, from the beginning to the end ;) and then they glory,
how full the Scripture is on their side, how many more
texts there are that evidently favour their scheme, than
such as seem to favour the contrary. But let them first
make manifest the things in question, which they suppose
and take for granted, and show them to be consistent with
themselves ; and produce clear evidence of their truth ; and
they have gained their point, as all will confess, without
bringing one scripture. For none denies, that there are
commands, counsels, promises, threatenings, &c. in the
Bible. But unless they do these things, their multiplying
such texts of Scripture is insignificant and vain.
It may further be observed, that such scriptures as they
bring, are really against them, and not for them. As it has
been demonstrated, that it is their scheme, and not ours, is
inconsistent with the use of motives and persuasives, or
any moral means whatsoever, to induce men to the practice
of virtue, or abstaining from wickedness. Their principles,
and not ours, are repugnant to moral agency, and incon
sistent with moral government, with law or precept, with
the nature of virtue or vice, reward or punishment, and
with every thing whatsoever of a moral nature, either on
the part of the moral governor, or in the state, actions, or
conduct of the subject.

SECT. XII.
Of a supposed tendency of these principles to Atheism and
Licentiousness.
If any object against what has been maintained, that it
lends to Atheism ; I know not on what grounds such an
objection can be raised, unless it be, that some Atheists
have held a doctrine of necessity which they suppose to be
like this. But if it be so, I am persuaded the Arminians
would not look upon it just, that their notion of freedom
and contingence should be charged with a tendency to all
the errors that ever any embraced, who have held such
opinions. The Stoic philosophers, whom the Calvinists
are charged with agreeing with, were no Atheists, but the
greatest Theists, and nearest akin to Christians in their
opinions concerning the unity and the perfections of the
Godhead, of all the heathen philosophers. And Epicurus,
that chief father of Atheism, maintained no such doctrine
of necessity, but was the greatest maintainer of contingence.
The doctrine of necessity, which supposes a necessary
connexion of all events, on some antecedent ground and
reason of their existence, is the only medium we have to
prove the being of God. And the contrary doctrine of
contingence, even as maintained by Arminians, (which
certainly implies, or infers, that events may come into
existence, or begin to be, without dependence on any thing
foregoing, as their cause, ground, or reason,) takes away
all proof of the being of God ; which proof is summarily
expressed by the apostle, in Rom. i. 20. And this is a
tendency to Atheism with a witness. So that, indeed, it is
the doctrine of Arminians, and not of the Calvinists, that
is justly charged with a tendency to Atheism ; it being
built on a foundation that is the utter subversion of every
demonstrative argument for the proof of a Deity ; as has
been shown, Part II. Sect. III.
And whereas it has often been said, that the Calvinistic

• Part III. Sect. VI.

t Part III. Sect VI. Ibid. Sect. VII.

doctrine of necessity saps the foundations of all religion
and virtue, and tends to the greatest licentiousness of
practice : this objection is built on the pretence, that our
doctrine renders vain all means and endeavours, in order
to be virtuous and religious. Which pretence has been
already particularly considered in the 5th Section of this
Part ; where it has been demonstrated, that this doctrine
has no such tendency ; but that such a tendency is truly
to be charged on the contrary doctrine : inasmuch as the
notion of contingence, which their doctrine implies, in its
certain consequences, overthrows all connexion in every
degree, between endeavour and event, means and end.
And besides, if many other things, which have been
observed to belong to the Arminian doctrine, or to be
plain consequences of it, be considered, there will appear
just reason to suppose, that it is that which must rather
tend to licentiousness. Their doctrine excuses all evil in
clinations, which men find to be natural ; because, in such
inclinations, they are not self-determined, as such inclina
tions are not owing to any choice or determination of their
own Wills. Which leads men wholly to justify themselves
in all their wicked actions, so far as natural inclination has
had a hand in determining their Wills to the commission
of them. Yea, these notions, which suppose moral ne
cessity and inability to be inconsistent with blame or
moral obligation, will directly lead men to justify the
vilest acts and practices, from the strength of their wicked
inclinations of all sorts ; strong inclinations inducing a
moral necessity ; yea, to excuse every degree of evil in
clination, so far as this has evidently prevailed, and been
the thing which has determined their Wills : because, so
far as antecedent inclination determined the Will, so far
the Will was without liberty of indifference and self-de
termination. Which, at last, will come to this, that men
will justify themselves in all the wickedness they commit.
It has been observed already, that this scheme of things
exceedingly diminishes the guilt of sin, and the difference
between the greatest and smallest offences ;* and if it be
pursued in its real consequences, it leaves room for no
such thing, as either virtue or vice, blame or praise in the
world, f And again, how naturally does this notion of
the sovereign self-determining power of the Will, in all
things virtuous or vicious, and whatsoever deserves either
reward or punishment, tend to encourage men to put off
the work of religion and virtue, and turning from sin to
God; since they have a sovereign power to determine
themselves, just when they please ; or if not, they are
wholly excusable in going on in sin, because of their in
ability to do any other.
If it should be said, that the tendency of this doctrine
of necessity to licentiousness, appears by the improvement
many at this day actually make of it, to justify them
selves in their dissolute courses ; I will not deny that
some men do unreasonably abuse this doctrine, as they
do many other things, which are true and excellent in their
own nature : but I deny, that this proves the doctrine
itself has any tendency to licentiousness. I think, the
tendency of doctrines, by what now appeals in the world,
and in our nation in particular, may much more justly be
argued, from the general effect which has been seen to
attend the prevailing of the principles of Arminians, and
the contrary principles ; as both have had their turn of
general prevalence in our nation. If it be indeed, as is
pretended, that Calvinistic doctrines undermine the very
foundation of all religion and morality, and enervate and
disannul all rational motives to holy and virtuous prac
tice ; and that the contrary doctrines give the inducements
to virtue and goodness their proper force, and exhibit re
ligion in a rational light, tending to recommend it to the
reason of mankind, and enforce it in a manner that is
agreeable to their natural notions of things : I say, if it he
thus, it is remarkable, that virtue and religious practice
should prevail most, when the former doctrines, so incon
sistent with it, prevailed almost universally : and that ever
since the latter doctrines, so happily agreeing with it, and
of so proper and excellent a tendency to promote it, have
been gradually prevailing, vice, profaneness, luxury, and
wickedness of all sorts, and contempt of all religion, and
Part IV. Sect. I. Part. III. Sect. III. Corol. 1. after the first head.

Sect. XIII.

CONCERNING THE ABSTRUSE REASONING.

85

of every kind of seriousness and strictness of conversation,
should proportionably prevail ; and that these things should
thus accompany one another, and rise and prevail one
with another, now for a whole age together ! It is remark
able, that this happy remedy (discovered by the free in
quiries and superior sense and wisdom of this age) against
the pernicious effects of Calvinism, so inconsistent with
religion, and tending so much to banish all virtue from the
earth, should, on so long a trial, be attended with no good
effect ; but that the consequence should be the reverse of
amendment ; that in proportion as the remedy takes place,
and is thoroughly applied, so the disease should prevail ;
and the very same dismal effect take place, to the highest
degree, which Calvinistic doctrines are supposed to have
so great a tendency to ; even the banishing of religion and
virtue, and the prevailing of unbounded licentiousness of
manners ! If these things are truly so, they are very re
markable, and matter of very curious speculation.

SECT. XIII.
Concerning that objection against the reasoning, by which
the Calvinistic doctrine is supposed, that it is metaphysi
cal and abstruse.
It has often been objected against the defenders of Cal
vinistic principles, that in their reasonings, they run into
nice scholastic distinctions, and abstruse metaphysical
subtilties, and set these in opposition to common sense.
And it is possible, that, after the former manner, it may
be alleged against the reasoning by which I have en
deavoured to confute the Arminian scheme of liberty and
moral agency, that it is very abstracted and metaphysical.
Concerning this, I would observe the following things :
I. If that be made an objection against the foregoing
reasoning, that it is metaphysical, or may properly be re
duced to the science of metaphysics, it is a very impertinent
objection ; whether it be so or no, is not worthy of any
dispute or controversy. If the reasoning be good, it is as
frivolous to inquire what science it is properly reduced to,
as what language it is delivered in : and for a man to go
about to confute the arguments of his opponent, by telling
him, his arguments are 'metaphysical, would be as weak as
to tell him, his arguments could not be substantial, because
they were written in French or Latin. The question is
not, whether what is said be metaphysics, phvsics, logic, or
mathematics, Latin, French, English, or Mohawk? But
whether the reasoning be good, and the arguments truly
conclusive ? The foregoing arguments are no more meta
physical, than those which we use against the papists, to
disprove their doctrine of transubstantiation ; alleging it
is inconsistent with the notion of corporeal identity, that it
should be in ten thousand places at the same time. It is
by metaphysical arguments only we are able to prove, that
the rational soul is not corporeal, that lead or sand cannot
think ; that thoughts are not square or round, or do not
weigh a pound. The arguments by which we prove the
being of God, if handled closely and distinctly, so as to
show their clear and demonstrative evidence, must be
metaphysically treated. It is by metaphysics only that
we can demonstrate, that God is not limited to a place, or
is not mutable ; that he is not ignorant, or forgetful ; that
it is impossible for him to lie, or be unjust; and that
* A certain noted author of the present age says, the arguments for ne
cessity are nothing but quibbling, or logomachy, using words without a
meaning, or begging the question. — I do not know what kind of necessity
any authors to whom he may have reference are advocates for ; or whether
they have managed their arguments well or ill. As to the arguments I
have made use, if they are quibbles they may be shown to be so ; such knots
are capable of being untied, and the trick and cheat may he detected and
plainly laid open. If this be fairly done, with respect to the grounds and
reasons I have relied upon, I shall have just occasion, for the future, to be
silent, if not to be ashamed of my argumentations. I am willing my proofs
should be thoroughly examined ;. and if there be nothing but begging the
question, or mere logomachy, or dispute of words, let it be made manifest
and shown how the seeming strength of the argument depends on my using
words without a meaning, or arises from the ambiguity of terms, or my
making use of words in an indeterminate and unsteady manner; and that
the weight of my reasons rest mainly on such a foundation : and then, I
shall either be ready to retract what Ihave urged, and thank the man that
has done tbe kind.part, or shall be justly exposed for my obstinacy.
Tbe same author is abundant in appealing, in this affair, from what he
calls logomachy and sophistry, to experience.  A person can experience
only what passes in his own mind. But yet, as we may well suppose, that
all men have the same human faculties; so a man may well argue from

there is one God only, and not hundreds or thousands.
And, indeed, we have no strict demonstration of any
thing, excepting mathematical truths, but by metaphysics.
We can have no proof, that is properly demonstrative, of
any one proposition, relating to the being and nature of
God, his creation of the world, the dependence of all
things on him, the nature of bodies or spirits, the nature
of our own souls, or any of the great truths of morality
and natural religion, but what is metaphysical. I am
willing my arguments should be brought to the test of the
strictest and justest reason, and that a clear, distinct, and
determinate meaning of the terms I use should be insisted
on ; but let not the whole be rejected, as if all were con
futed, by fixing on it the epithet, metaphysical.
II. If the reasoning, which has been made use of, be
in some sense metaphysical, it will not follow, that there
fore it must need be abstruse, unintelligible, and akin to
the jargon of the schools. I humbly conceive, the forego
ing reasoning at least to those things which are most ma
terial belonging to it, depends on no abstruse definitions
or distinctions, or terms without a meaning, or of very
ambiguous and undetermined signification, or any points
of such abstraction and subtilty, as tends to involve the
attentive understanding in clouds and darkness. There is
no high degree of refinement and abstruse speculation, in
determining, that a thing is not before it is, and so cannot
be the cause of itself; or that the first act of free choice,
has not another act of free choice going before that, to
excite or direct it ; or in determining, that no choice is
made, while the mind remains in a state of absolute in
difference ; that preference and equilibrium never coexist ;
and that therefore no choice is made in a state of liberty,
consisting in indifference : and that so far as the Will is
determined by motives, exhibiting and operating previous
to the act of the Will, so far it is not determined by the
act of the Will itself; that nothing can begin to be, which
before was not, without a cause, or some antecedent ground
or reason, why it then begins to be ; that effects depend on
their causes, and are connected with them ; that virtue is
not the worse, nor sin the better, for the strength of incli
nation with which it is practised, and the difficulty which
thence arises of doing otherwise ; that when it is already
infallibly known that the thing will be, it is not contingent
whether it will ever be or no ; or that it can be truly said,
notwithstanding, that it is not necessary it should be, but
it either may be, or may not be. And the like might be
observed of many other things which belong to the fore
going reasoning.
If any shall still stand to it, that the foregoing reasoning
is nothing but mere metaphysical sophistry : and that it-
must be so, that the seeming force of the arguments all
depends on some fallacy and wile that is hid in the ob
scurity wbich always attends a great degree of metaphy
sical abstraction and refinement ; and shall be ready to say,
" Here is, indeed, something tends to confound the mind,
but not to satisfy it : for who can ever be truly satisfied in
it, that men are fitly blamed or commended, punished or
rewarded, for those volitions which are not from themselves,
and of whose existence they are not the causes. Men
may refine, as much as they please, and advance the
abstract notions, and make out a thousand seeming con
tradictions, to puzzle our understandings ; yet there can be
no satisfaction in such doctrine as this : the natural sense
of the mind of man will always resist it."* I humbly
his own experience to that of others, in things that show the nature of these
faculties, and the manner of their operation. But then one has as good a
right to allege his experience as another. As to my own experience, I
find, that in innumerable things I can do as I will ; that the motions of my
body, in many respects, instantaneously follow the acts of my will concern
ing those motions ; and that my will lias some command of my thoughts ;
and that the acts of my will are my own, i. e. that they are acts of my will,
the volitions of my own mind ; or, in other words, that what I will, I will.
Which. I presume, is the sum of what others experience in this affair. But
as to finding by experience, that my will is originally determined by itself;
or that, my will first choosing what volition there shall be, the chosen voli
tion accordingly follows ; and that this is the first rise of the determination
of my will in any affair; or that any volition arises in my mind contin
gently ; I declare, I know nothing in myself, by experience, of this nature ;
and nothing that ever I experienced, carries the least appearance or shadow
of any such thing, or gives me any more reason to suppose or suspect any
such thing, than to suppose that my volitions existed twenty years before
they existed. It is true, I find myself possessed of my volitions, before I
can see the effectual power of any cause to produce them, for the power and
efficacy of the cause is not seen hut by the effect, and this, for ought I know,
may make some imagine, that volition has no cause, or that it produces
itself. But I have no more reason from hence to determine anv such.

86

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

conceive, that such an objector, if he has capacity, and
humility, and calmness of spirit sufficient, impartially and
thoroughly to examine himself, will find that he knows not
really what he would be at ; and indeed, his difficulty is
nothing but a mere prejudice, from an inadvertent cus
tomary use of words, in a meaning that is not clearly
understood, nor carefully reflected upon. Let the objector
reflect again, if he has candour and patience enough, and
does not scorn to be at the trouble of close attention in the
affair. — He would have a man's volition be from himself.
Let it be from himself, most primarily and originally of any
way conceivable ; that is, from its own choice ; how will
that help the matter, as to his being justly blamed or
praised, unless that choice itself be blameworthy or praise
worthy ? And how is the choice itself (an ill choice, for
instance) blameworthy, according to these principles, un
less that be from himself too, in the same manner ; that is,
from his own choice ? But the original and first determining
choice in the affair is not from his choice : his choice is not
the cause of it. And if it be from himself some other
way, and not from his choice, surely that will not help the
matter. If it be not from himself of choice, then it is not
from himself voluntarily : and if so, he is surely no more
to blame, than if it were not from himself at all. It is
vanity to pretend, it is a sufficient answer to this, to saj',
that it is nothing but metaphysical refinement and subtilty,
and so attenderfwith obscurity and uncertainty.
If it be the natural sense of our minds, tnat what is
blameworthy in a man must be from himself, then it doubt
less is also, that it must be from something bad in himself,
a bad choice, or bad disposition. But then our natural sense
is, that this bad choice or disposition is evil in itself, and
the man blameworthy for it, on its own account, without
taking into our notion of its blameworthiness, another bad
choice, or disposition going before this, from whence this
arises : for that is a ridiculous absurdity, running us into
an immediate contradiction, which our natural sense of
blameworthiness has nothing to do with, and never comes
into the mind, nor is supposed in the judgment we natu
rally make of the affair. As was demonstrated before,
natural sense does not place the moral evil of volitions and
dispositions in the cause of them, but the nature of them.
An evil thing being from a man, or from something an
tecedent in him, is not essential to the original notion we
have of blameworthiness : but it is its being the choice of
the heart ; as appears by this, that if a thing be from us,
and not from our choice, it has not the nature of blame
worthiness or ill desert, according to our natural sense.
When a thing is from a man, in that sense, that it is from
his Will or choice, he is to blame for it, because his Will
is in it : so far as the Will is in it, blame is in it, and no
further. Neither do we go any further in our notion of
blame, to inquire whether the bad Will be from a bad
Will : there is no consideration of the original of that bad
Will ; because, according to our natural apprehension,
blame originally consists in it. Therefore a thing being
from a man, is a secondary consideration, in the notion of
blame or ill desert. Because those things, in our external
actions, are most properly said to be from us, which are
from our choice ; and no other external actions, but those
that are from us in this sense, have the nature of blame ;
and they indeed, not so properly because they are from us,
as because we are in them, i. e. our Wills are in them ; not
so much because they are from some property of ours, as
because they are our properties.
However, all these external actions being truly from us
as their cause ; and we being so used, in ordinary' speech,
and in the common affairs of life, to speak of men's
actions and conduct which we see, and which affect human
society, as deserving ill or well, as worthy of blame or
praise ; hence it is come to pass, that philosophers have in
cautiously taken all their measures of good and evil, praise
and blame, from the dictates of common sense, about these
overt acts of men ; to the running of every thing into the
most lamentable and dreadful confusion. And, therefore,
-I observe, III. It is so far from being true, (whatever may be pre
tended,), that the proof of the doctrine which has been
thing, than I have to determine that I gave myself my own being, or
that I came into being accidentally without a cause because I first

maintained, depends on certain abstruse, unintelligible,
metaphysical terms and notions ; and that the Arminian
scheme, without needing such clouds and darkness for its
defence, is supported by the plain dictates of common
sense ; that the very reverse is most certainly true, and that
to a great degree. It is fact, that they, and not we, have
confounded things with metaphysical, unintelligible notions
and phrases, and have drawn them from the light of plain
truth, into the gross darkness of abstruse metaphysical
propositions, ana words without a meaning. Their pre
tended demonstrations depend very much on such unin
telligible, metaphysical phrases, as self-determination, and
sovereignty of the Will; and the metaphysical sense they
put on such terms, as necessity, contingency, action, agency,
S;c. quite diverse from their meaning as used in common
speech; and which, as they use them, are without any
consistent meaning, or any manner of distinct consistent
ideas ; as far from it as any of the abstruse terms and
perplexed phrases of the peripatetic philosophers, or the
most unintelligible jargon of the schools, or the cant of the
wildest fanatics. Yea, we may be bold to say, these me
taphysical terms, on which they build so much, are what
they use without knowing what they mean themselves;
they are pure metaphysical sounds, without any ideas what
soever in their minds to answer them ; inasmuch as it has
been demonstrated, that there cannot be any notion in the
mind consistent with these expressions, as they pretend to
explain them ; because their explanations destroy them
selves. No such notions as imply self-contradiction, and
self-abolition, and this a great many ways, can subsist in
the mind ; as there can be no idea of a whole which is less
than any of its parts, or of solid extension without dimen
sions, or of an effect which is before its cause. — Arminians
improve these terms, as terms of art, and in their metaphy
sical meaning, to advance and establish those things which
are contrary to common sense, in a high degree. Thus,
instead of the plain vulgar notion of liberty, which all man
kind, in every part of the face of the earth and in all ages,
have, consisting in opportunity to do as one pleases ; they
have introduced a new strange liberty, consisting in indif
ference, contingence, and self-determination; by which
they involve themselves and others in great obscurity, and
manifold gross inconsistence. So, instead of placing virtue
and vice, as common sense places them very much, infixed
bias and inclination, and greater virtue and vice in stronger
and more established inclination ; these, through their re-
finings and abstruse notions, suppose a liberty consisting in
indifference to be essential to all virtue and vice. jSo
they have reasoned themselves, not by metaphysical dis
tinctions, but metaphysical confusion, into many principles
about moral agency, blame, praise, reward, and punish
ment, which are, as has been shown, exceeding contrary to
the common sense of mankind ; and perhaps to their own
sense, which governs them in common life.

SECT. XIV.
The Conclusion.
Whether the things which have been alleged, are
liable to any tolerable answer in the way of calm, intelli
gible, and strict reasoning, 1 must leave others to judge :
but I am sensible they are liable to one sort of answer. It
is not unlikely, that some, who value themselves on the
supposed rational and generous principles of the modern
fashionable divinity;, will have their indignation and dis
dain raised at "the sight of this discourse, and on perceiving
what things are pretended to be proved in it. And if they
think it worthy of being read, or of so much notice as to
say much about it, they may probably renew the usual ex
clamations, with additional vehemence and contempt,
about the fate of the heathen, Hobbes's Necessity, and
making men mere machines ; accumulating the terrible epi
thets of fatal, unfrustrable, inevitable, irresistible, &c. and
it may be, with addition of horrid and blasphemous; and
perhaps much skill may be used to set forth things, which
have been said, in colours which shall be shocking to the
found myself possessed of being, before I had knowledge of a cause of

Sect. XIV.

THE CONCLUSION.

87

imaginations, and moving to the passions of those, who
have either too little capacity, or too much confidence of
the opinions they have imbibed, and contempt of the con
trary, to try the matter by any serious and circumspect
examination.* Or difficulties may be stated and insisted
on, which do not belong to the controversy ; because, let
them be more or less real, and hard to be resolved, they are
not what are owing to any thing distinguishing of this
scheme from that of the Arminians, and would not be re
moved nor diminished by renouncing the former, and ad
hering to the latter. Or some particular things may be
picked out, which they may think will sound harshest in
the ears of the generality ; and these may be glossed and
descanted on, with tart and contemptuous words ; and
from thence, the whole discourse may be treated with tri
umph and insult.
It is easy to see, how the decision of most of the points
in controversy between Calvinists and Arminians, de
pends on the determination of this grand article concerning
the Freedom of the Wilt requisite to moral agency ; and
that by clearing and establishing the Calvinistic doctrine in
this point, the chief arguments are obviated by which
Arminian doctrines in general are supported, and the con
trary doctrines demonstratively confirmed. Hereby it be
comes manifest, that God's moral government over man
kind, his treating them as moral agents, making them the
objects of his commands, counsels, calls, warnings, ex
postulations, promises, threatenings, rewards, and punish
ments, is not inconsistent with a determining disposal of all
events, of every kind, throughout the universe, in his pro
vidence ; either by positive efficiency, or permission. In
deed, such an universal determining providence, infers some
kind of necessity of all events, such a necessity as implies
an infallible previous fixedness of the futurity of the event ;
but no other necessity of moral events, or volitions of in
telligent agents, is needful in order to this, than moral
necessity; which does as much ascertain the futurity of the
event as any other necessity. But, as has been demon
strated, such a necessity is not at all repugnant to moral
agencv, and a reasonable use of commands, calls, rewards,
punishments, &c. Yea, not only are objections of this
kind against the doctrine of an universal determining pro
vidence, removed by what has been said ; but the truth of
such a doctrine is demonstrated. As it has been de
monstrated, that the futurity of all future events is
established by previous necessity, either natural or
moral ; so it is manifest, that the sovereign Creator and
Disposer of the world has ordered this necessity, by
ordering his own conduct, either in designedly acting,
or forbearing to act. For, as the being of the world is
from God, so the circumstances in which it had its being at
first, both negative and positive, must be ordered by him,
in one of these ways ; and all the necessary consequences
of these circumstances, must be ordered by him. And
God's active and positive interpositions, after the world
was created, and the consequences of these interpositions;
also every instance of his forbearing to interpose, and the
sure consequences of this forbearance, must all be deter
mined according to his pleasure. And therefore every
event, which is the consequence of any thing whatsoever,
or that is connected with any foregoing thing or circum
stances, either positive or negative, as the ground or reason
of its existence, must be ordered of God ; either by a de
signing efficiency and interposition, or a designed forbear
ing to operate or interpose. But, as has been proved, all
events whatsoever are necessarily connected with something
foregoing, either positive or negative, which is the ground
of its existence. It follows, therefore, that the whole series
of events is thus connected with something in the state of
things either positive or negative, which is original in the
series ; i. e. something which is connected with nothing
preceding that, but God's own immediate conduct, either
his acting or forbearing to act. From whence it follows, that
* A writer of the present age, whom I have several times had occasion to
mention, speaks once and again of those who hold the doctrine of Necessity,
as scarcely worthy of the name of philosophers. I do not know, whether
he has respect to any particular notion of necessity, that some may have
maintained; and, if so, what doctrine of necessity it is that be means.
Whether I am worthy of the name of a philosopher, or not, would be a
Question little to the present purpose. If any, and ever so many, should
cny it, I should not think it worth the while to enter into a dispute on that

as God designedly orders his own conduct, and its con
nected consequences, it must necessarily be, that he de
signedly orders all things.
The things which have been said, obviate some of the
chief objections of Arminians against the Calvinistic doc
trine of the total depravity and corruption of man's nature,
whereby his heart is wholly under the power of sin, and
he is utterly unable, without the interposition of sovereign
grace, savingly to love God, believe in Christ, or do any
thing that is truly good and acceptable in God's sight.
For the main objection against this doctrine, that it is in
consistent with the freedom of man's Will, consisting in
indifference and self-determining power ; because it sup
poses man to be under a necessity of sinning, and that
God requires things of him, in order to his avoiding eter
nal damnation, which he is unable to do ; and that this
doctrine is wholly inconsistent with the sincerity of
counsels, invitations, &c. Now, this doctrine supposes no
other necessity of sinning, than a moral necessity ; which,
as has been shown, does not at all excuse sin ; and sup-
posses no other inability to obey any command, or perform
any duty, even the most spiritual and exalted, but a moral
inability, which, as has been proved, does not excuse
persons in the non-performance of any good thing, or make
them not to be the proper objects of commands, counsels,
and invitations. And, moreover, it has been shown, that
there is not, and never can be, either in existence, or so
much as in idea, any such freedom of Will, consisting in
indifference and self-determination, for the sake of which,
this doctrine of original sin is cast out : and that no such
freedom is necessary, in order to the nature of sin, and a
just desert of punishment.
The things which have been observed, do also take off
the main objections of Arminians against the doctrine of
efficacious grace ; and, at the same time, prove the grace of
God in a sinner's conversion (if there be any grace or
divine influence in the affair) to be efficacious, yea, and
irresistible too, if by irresistible is meant, that which is at
tended with a moral necessity, which it is impossible
should ever be violated by any resistance. The main ob
jection of Arminians against this doctrine is, that it is
inconsistent with their self-determining freedom of Will ;
and that it is repugnant to the nature of virtue, that it
should be wrought in the heart by the determining efficacy
and power of another, instead of its being owing to a self-
moving power ; that, in that case, the good which is
wrought, would not be our virtue, but rather God's virtue ;
because not the person in whom it is wrought is the deter
mining author of it, but God that wrought it in him. But
the things which are the foundation of these objections,
have been considered ; and it has been demonstrated, that
the liberty of moral agents does not consist in self-deter
mining power; and that there is no need of any such
liberty, in order to the nature of virtue ; nor does it at all
hinder, but that the state or act of the Will may be the
virtue of the subject, though it be not from self-determina
tion, but the determination of an intrinsic cause ; even so as
to cause the event to be morally necessary to the subject
of it. — And as it has been proved, that nothing in the state
or acts of the Will of man is contingent ; but that, on the
contrary, every event of this kind is necessary, by a moral
necessity ; and has also been now demonstrated, that the
doctrine of an universal determining Providence, follows
from that doctrine of necessity, which was proved before :
and so, that God does decisively, in his providence, order
all the volitions of moral agents, either by positive in
fluence or permission : and it being allowed, on all hands,
that what God does in the affair of man's virtuous voli
tions, whether it be more or less, is by some positive in
fluence, arid not by mere permission, as in the affair of a
sinful volition : if we put these things together, it will
follow, that God's assistance or influence must be deter
mining and decisive, or must be attended with a moral

question ; Though at the same time I might expect some better answer
should be given to the arguments brought for the truth of thedoctrine I main
tain; and I might further reasonably desire, that it migBt be considered,
whether it does not become those, who are truly worlh&of the name of
philosophers, to be sensible, that there is a difference between argument
and contempt, yea, and a difference between the contemptibleness of the
person that argues, and the inconclusiveness of the arguments he offers.

88

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

necessity of the event; and so, that God gives virtue,
holiness, and conversion to sinners, by an influence which
determines the effect, in such a manner, that the effect will
infallibly follow by a moral necessity ; which is what
Calvinists mean by efficacious and irresistible grace.
The things which have been said, do likewise answer
the chief objections against the doctrine of God's universal
and absolute decree, and afford infallible proof of this
doctrine ; and of the doctrine of absolute, eternal, personal
election in particular. The main objections against these
doctrines are, that they infer a necessity of the volitions of
moral agents, and of the future and moral state and acts
of men ; and so are not consistent with those eternal re
wards and punishments, which are connected with conver
sion and impenitence ; nor can be made to agree with the
reasonableness and sincerity of the precepts, calls, counsels,
warnings, and expostulations of the word of God ; or with
the various methods and means of grace, which God uses
with sinners to bring them to repentance ; and the whole
of that moral government, which God exercises towards
mankind : and that they infer an inconsistence between
the secret and revealed Will of God; and make God the
author of sin. But all these things have been obviated
in the preceding discourse. And the certain truth of
these doctrines, concerning God's eternal purposes, will
follow from what was just now observed concerning God's
universal providence ; how it infallibly follows from what
has been proved, that God orders all events, and the voli
tions of moral agents amongst others, by such a decisive
disposal, that the events are infallibly connected with his
disposal. For if God disposes all events, so that the in
fallible existence of the events is decided by his providence,
then, doubtless, he thus orders and decides things knowing
ly, and on design. God does not do what he does, nor order
what he orders, accidentally and unawares ; either with
out or beside his intention. And if there be a foregoing
design of doing and ordering as he does, this is the same
with a purpose or decree. And as it has been shown, that
nothing is new to God, in any respect, but all things are
perfectly and equally in his view from eternity ; hence it
will follow, that his designs or purposes are not things
formed anew, founded on any new views or appearances,
but are all eternal purposes. And as it has been now
shown, how the doctrine of determining efficacious grace
certainly follows from things proved in the foregoing dis
course ; hence will necessarily follow the doctrine of par
ticular, eternal, absolute election. For if men are made
true saints, no otherwise than as God makes them so, and
distinguishes them from others, by his efficacious power
and influence, that decides and fixes the event ; and God
thus makes some saints, and not others, on design or pur
pose, and (as has been now observed) no designs of God
are new; it follows, that God thus distinguished from
others, all that ever become true saints, by his eternal
design or decree. I might also show, how God's certain
foreknowledge must suppose an absolute decree, and how
such a decree can be proved to a demonstration from it :
but that this discourse may not be lengthened out too
much, that must be omitted for the present.*
From these things it will inevitably follow, that however
Christ in some sense may be said to die for all, and to
redeem all visible Christians, yea, the whole world, by his
death; yet there must be something particular in" the
design of his death, with respect to such as he intended
should actually be saved thereby. As appears by what
has been now shown, God has the actual salvation or re
demption of a certain number in his proper absolute
design, and of a certain number only ; and therefore such
a design only can be prosecuted in any thing God does,
in order to the salvation of men. God pursues a proper
design of the salvation of the elect in giving Christ to die,
and prosecutes such a design with respect to no other
* Certain foreknowledge does imply some necessity. But our author is
not sufficiently guarded, or else not sufficiently explicit, when he says that
foreknowledge must suppose an absolute decree. For certainty, or hypo
thetical necessity, may arise from the nature of things, anil from negative
causes, as well as from a decree. If, indeed, the remark be limited to the
subject immedjpely preceding, it is an important truth. — W.
t The tetmavesign and endeavours are not sufficiently discriminating.
It is here supposed that it is unworthy of God to use endeavours which are
beside his decree, or to prosecute a design which he knows will not be
accomplislied. Is it not a matter of plain fact that he uses endeavours
which are beside his decree, and prosecutes a design which he knows will

most strictly speaking; for it is impossible, that God
should prosecute any other design than only such as he
has : he certainly does not, in the highest propriety and
strictness of speech, pursue a design that he has not.
And, indeed, such a particularity and limitation of re
demption will as infallibly follow, from the doctrine of
God's foreknowledge, as from that of the decree. For it
is as impossible, in strictness of speech, that God should
prosecute a design, or aim at a thing, which he at the same
time most perfectly knows will not be accomplished, as
that he should use endeavours for that which is beside his
decree .f
By the things which have been proved, are obviated
some of the main objections against the doctrine of the
infallible and necessary perseverance of saints, and some
of the main foundations of this doctrine are established.
The main prejudices of Arminians against this doctrine
seem to be these ; they suppose such a necessary, infallible
perseverance to be repugnant to the freedom of the Will ;
that it must be owing to man's own self-determining power
he first becomes virtuous and holy ; and so, in like man
ner, it must be left a thing contingent, to be determined
by the same freedom of Will, whether he will persevere in
virtue and holiness; and that otherwise his continuing
stedfast in faith and obedience would not be his virtue,
or at all praiseworthy and rewardable ; nor could his per
severance be properly the matter of divine commands,
counsels, and promises, nor his apostasy be properly threat
ened, and men warned against it. Whereas, we find all
these things in Scripture : there we find stedfastness and
perseverance in true Christianity, represented as the virtue
of the saints, spoken of as praiseworthy in them, and glo
rious rewards promised to it; and also find, that God
makes it the subject of his commands, counsels, and pro
mises ; and the contrary, of threatenings and warnings*
But the foundation of these objections has been removed,
by showing that moral necessity and infallible certainty of
events is not inconsistent with these things ; and that, as
to freedom of Will, lying in the power of the Will to
determine itself, there neither is any such thing, nor is
there any need of it, in order to virtue, reward, commands,
counsels, &c.
And as the doctrines of efficacious grace and absolute
election do certainly follow from the things proved in the
preceding discourse ; so some of the main foundations of
the doctrine of perseverance, are thereby established. If
the beginning of true faith and holiness, and a man be
coming a true saint at first, does not depend on the self-
determining power of the Will, but on the determining
efficacious grace of God ; it may well be argued, that it is
also with respect to men being continued saints, or per
severing in faith and holiness. The conversion of a sinner
being not owing to a man's self-determination, but to
God's determination, and eternal election, which is abso
lute, and depending on the sovereign Will of God, and
not on the free Will of man ; as is evident from what has
been said : and it being very evident from the Scriptures,
that the eternal election of saints to faith and holiness, is
also an election of them to eternal salvation ; hence their
appointment to salvation must also be absolute, and not
depending on their contingent, self-determining Will.
From all which it follows, that it is absolutely fixed in
God's decree, that all true saints shall persevere to actual
eternal salvation.
But I must leave all these things to the consideration of
the impartial reader ; and when he has maturely weighed
them, I would propose it to his consideration, whether
many of the first reformers, and others that succeeded
them, whom God in their day made the chief pillars of his
church, and the greatest instruments of their deliverance
from error and darkness, and of the support of the cause
of piety among them, have not been injured, in the con-
not be accomplished, through the whole system of legislation and govern
ment ? Is it not the very design of legislation and government to prevent
crimes as well as to punish them, and to promote obedience and conformity
to law ? Legislative design, therefore, is not accomplished in the commis
sion of crimes, otherwise the legislator, as such, could not find fault for
breach of law. Our Lord Used endeavours with the inhabitants of Jeru
salem, &c. beside his decree, yet with perfect propriety. If we keep in
mind that the divine Will subsists under two relations, according to the
two-fold state of man, who is at once a subject of decree and a subject of
government, we shall sec the propriety of calling it decretive and rectoral

\ Sect. XIV.

THE CONCLUSION.

tempt with which they have been treated by many late
writers, for their teaching and maintaining such doctrines
as are commonly called Calvinistic. Indeed, some of
these new writers, at the same time that they have repre
sented the doctrines of these ancient and eminent divines,
as in the highest degree ridiculous, and contrary to com
mon sense, in an ostentation of a very generous charity,
have allowed that thev were honest well-meaning men :
yea, it may be some of them, as though it were in great
condescension and compassion to them, have allowed,
that they did pretty well for the day in which they lived,
and considering the great disadvantages they laboured
.under : when, at the same time, their manner of speaking
has naturally and plainly suggested to the minds of their
readers, that they were persons, who — through the lowness
'of their genius, and the greatness of the bigotry with
which their minds were shackled, and their thoughts con
fined, living in the gloomy caves of superstition — fondly
embraced, and demurely and zealously taught, the most
absurd, silly, and monstrous opinions, worthy of the great
est contempt of gentlemen possessed of that noble and
generous freedom of thought, which happily prevails in
this age of light and inquiry. When, indeed, such is the
case that we might, if so disposed, speak as big words as
they, and on far better grounds. And really all the Ar
minians on earth might be challenged without arrogance or
vanity, to make, these principles of theirs, wherein they
mainly differ from their fathers, whom they so much
despise, consistent with common sense ; yea, and perhaps
to produce any doctrine ever embraced by the blindest
bigot of the church of Rome, or the most ignorant Mussul
man, or extravagant enthusiast,*that might be reduced to
more demonstrable inconsistencies, and repugnancies to
common sense, and to themselves ; though their incon
sistencies indeed may not lie so deep, or be so artfully
veiled by a deceitful ambiguity of words, and an indeter
minate signification of phrases. I will not deny, that these
gentlemen, many of them, are men of great abilities, and
have been helped to higher attainments in philosophy, than
those ancient divines, and have done great service to the
church of God in some respects : but I humbly conceive,
that their differing from their fathers, with such magisterial
assurance, in these points in divinity, must be owing to
some other cause than superior wisdom.
It may also be worthy of consideration, whether the
great alteration which has been made in the state of things
in our nation, and some other parts of the protestant
world, in this and the past age, by exploding so generally
Calvinistic doctrines — an alteration so often spoken of as
worthy to be greatly rejoiced in by the friends of truth,
learning, and virtue, as an instance of the great increase of
light in the Christian church — be indeed a happy change,
owing to any such cause as an increase of true knowledge
and understanding in the things of religion ; or whether
there is not reason to fear, that it may be owing to some
worse cause.
And I desire it may be considered, whether the boldness
of some writers may not deserve to be reflected on, who
have not scrupled to say, that if these and those things are
true, (which yet appear to be the demonstrable dictates of
reason, as well as the certain dictates of the mouth of the
Most High,) then God is unjust, and cruel, and guilty of
manifest deceit and double dealing, and the like. Yea,
some have gone so far as confidently to assert, that if any
book which pretends to be Scripture, teaches such doc
trines, that alone is sufficient warrant for mankind to reject
it, as what cannot be the word of God. Some, who have
not gone so far, have said, that if the Scripture seems to
teach any such doctrines, so contrary to reason, we are
obliged to find out some other interpretation of those
texts, where such doctrines seem to be exhibited. Others
express themselves yet more modestly : they express a
tenderness and religious fear, lest they should receive and
teach any thing that should seem to reflect on God's
moral character, or be a disparagement to his methods of
administration, in his moral government ; and therefore
express themselves as not daring to embrace some doc
trines, though they seem to be delivered in Scripture, ac-
* The " Essays" to which this Appendix relates, were the production of
Lord Kaimes.

cording to the more obvious and natural construction of
the words. But indeed it would show a truer modesty
and humility, if they would more entirely rely on God's
wisdom and discernment, who knows infinitely better than
we what is agreeable to his own perfections, and never
intended to leave these matters to the decision of the
wisdom and discernment of men ; but by his own uner
ring instruction, to determine for us what the truth is ;
knowing how little our judgment is to be depended on,
and how extremely prone vain and blind men are to err in
such matters.
The truth of the case is, that if the Scripture plainly
taught the opposite doctrines to those that are so much
stumbled at, vis. the Arminian doctrine of free Will, and
others depending thereon, it would be the greatest of all
difficulties that attend the Scriptures, incomparably greater
than its containing any, even the most mysterious, of those
doctrines of the first reformers, which our late freethinkers
have so superciliously exploded. Indeed, it is a glorious
argument of the divinity of the Holy Scriptures, that they
teach such doctrines, which in one age and another,
through the blindness of men's minds, and strong preju
dices of their hearts, are rejected, as most absurd and un
reasonable, by the wise and great men of the world ;
which yet, when they are most carefully and strictly ex
amined, appear to be exactly agreeable to the most de
monstrable, certain, and natural dictates of reason. By
such things it appears, that " the foolishness of God is
wiser than men. (1 Cor. i. 19, 20.) " For it is written,
I will destroy the wisdom of the wise ; I will bring to
nothing the understanding of the prudent. Where is the
wise 1 where is the scribe ? where is the disputer of
this world ? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of
this world?" And as it was in time past, so probably it
will be in time to come, as it is also written, (ver. 27 — 29.)
" But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world, to
confound the wise ; and God hath chosen the weak things
of the world to confound the things that are mighty ; and
base things of the world, and things which are despised,
hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring
to nought things that are : that no flesh should glory in
his presence." Amen.

APPENDIX.

SECT. XV
Containing Remarks on the Essays on the Principles of
Morality and Natural Religion, in a Letter to a Minis
ter of the Church of Scotland*
Rev. Sir,
The intimations you have given me of the use which
has by some been made of what I have written on the
Freedom of the Will, t)-c. to vindicate what is said on the
subject of liberty and necessity, by the author of the
Essays on the Principles of Morality and Natural Reli
gion, has occasioned my reading this author's Essay on
that subject with particular care and attention. And I
think it must be evident to every one, that has read both
his Essay and my Inquiry, that our schemes are exceed
ingly different from each other. The wide difference ap
pears particularly in the following things.
This author supposes, that such a necessity takes place
with respect to all men's actions, as is inconsistent with
liberty,-)- and plainly denies that men have any liberty in
acting. Thus, (p. 168.) after he had been speaking of the
necessity of our determinations, as connected with mo
tives, he concludes with saying, " In short, if motives
are not under our power or direction, which is con
fessedly the fact, we can at bottom have — no liberty."
Whereas, I have abundantly expressed it as my mind,
that man, in his moral actions, has true liberty ; and that
the moral necessity which universally takes place, is not
in the least inconsistent with any thing that is properly
t P. 100, 161, 161, 165, and many other places.

90

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

called liberty, and with the utmost liberty that can be de
sired, or that can possibly exist or be conceived of.
I find that some are apt to think, that in that kind of
moral necessityof men's volitions, which I suppose to be
universal, at least some degree of liberty denied; that
though it be true I allow a sort of liberty, yet those who
maintain a self-determining power in the Will, and a liberty
of contingence and indifference, hold a higher sort of free
dom than I do : but I thin|; this is certainly a great mistake.
Liberty, as I have explained it, is the power, oppor
tunity, or advantage that any one has to do as he pleases, or
conducting himself, in any respect, according to his p/ea~
sure ; without considering how his pleasure comes to be as
it is. It is demonstrable, and, I think, has been demon
strated, that no necessity of men's volitions that I main
tain, is inconsistent with this liberty : and I think it is
impossible for any one to rise higher in his conceptions of
liberty than this : If any imagine they desire, and that they
conceive of, a higher and greater liberty than this, they are
deceived, and delude themselves with confused ambiguous
words, instead of ideas. If any one should here say,
" Yes, I conceive of a freedom above and beyond the
liberty a man has of conducting himself in any respect as
he pleases, viz. a liberty of choosing as he pleases." Such
an one, if he reflected, would either blush or laugh at his
own proposal. For, is not choosing as he pleases, con
ducting himself, in some respect, according to his plea
sure, and still without determining how he came by that
pleasure ? If he says, " Yes, I came by that pleasure by
my own choice." If he be a man of common sense, by
this time he will see his own absurdity : for he must needs
see that his notion or conception, even of this liberty, does
not contain any judgment or conception how he comes by
that choice, which first determines his pleasure, or which
originally fixed his own Will respecting the affair. Or if
any shall say, " That a man exercises liberty in this, even
in determining his own choice, but not as he pleases, or
not in consequence of any choice, preference, or inclination
of his own, but by a determination arising contingently
out of a state of absolute indifference ;" this is not rising
higher in his conception of liberty : as such a determina
tion of the Will would not be a voluntary determination
of it. Surely he that places liberty in a power of doing
something not according to his own choice, or from his
choice, has not a higher notion of it, than he that places it
in doing as he pleases, or acting from his own election.
If there were a power in the mind to determine itself, but
not by its choice or according to its pleasure, what advan
tage would it give '! and what liberty, worth contending
for, would be exercised in it? Therefore no Arminian,
Pelagian, or Epicurean, can rise higher in his conceptions
of liberty, than the notion of it which I have explained :
which notion is perfectly consistent with the whole of that
necessity of men's actions, which I suppose takes place.
And I scruple not to say, it is beyond all their wits to in
vent a higher notion, or form a higher imagination of liberty ;
let them talk of sovereignty of the Will, self-determining
power, self-motion, self-direction, arbitrary decision, liberty
ad utrumvis, power if choosing differently in given cases,
§c. Sec. as long as they will. It is apparent that these men,
in their strenuous dispute about these things, aim at they
know not what, fighting for something they have no con
ception of, substituling a number of confused unmeaning
words, instead of things, and instead of thoughts. They
may be challenged clearly to explain what they would
have ; but they never can answer the challenge.
The author of the Essays, through his whole Essay on
Liberty and Necessity, goes on the supposition, that, in
order to the being of real liberty, a man must have a free
dom that is opposed to moral necessity : and yet he sup
poses, (p. 175.) that "such a liberty must signify a power
in the mind of acting without and against motives, a power
if acting without any view, purpose, or dcsign,.jmd even of
acting ra contradiction to our own desires artbv aversions,
and to all our principles of action ; and is an absurdity al-
togetlur inconsistent with a rational nature." Now, who
ever imagined such a liberty as this, a higher sort or degree
of freedom, than a libertv of following one's own views and

t P. 191, 195, 197,206.

I P. 183.

purposes, and acting agreeably to his own inclinations and
passions t Who will ever reasonably suppose, that a liberty
which is an absurdity altogether inconsistent with a rational
nature, is above that which is consistent with the nature of
a rational, intelligent, designing agent.
The author of the Essays seems to suppose such a ne
cessity to take place, as is inconsistent with some suppos
able power of arbitrary choice,* or that there is some
liberty conceivable, whereby men's own actions might be
more properly in their P0WER,t and by which events
might be more dependent on ourselves : % contrary to
what I suppose to be evident in my Inquiry. What way
can be imagined, of our actions being more in our power,
from ourselves, or dependent on ourselves, than their being
from our power to fulfil our own choice, to act from our own
inclination, pursue our own views, and execute our owrf
designs ? Certainly, to be able to act thus, is as properly
having our actions in our power, and dependent on our
selves, as a being liable to be the subject of acts and events
contingently and fortuitously, without desire, view, purpose,
or design, or any principle of action within ourselves; as
we must be, according to this author's own declared sense,
if our actions are performed with that liberty that is opposed
to moral necessity.
This author seems everv where to suppose, that neces
sity, most properly so called, attends all men's actions ;
and that the terms, necessary, unavoidable, impossible, c]c.
are equally applicable to the case of moral and natural
necessity. In p. 173. he says, The idea of necessary and
unavoidable equally agrees, holh to moral and physical ne
cessity. And in p. 184. All things that fall out in the na
tural and moral world are alike necessary. P. 174. This
inclination and choice is unavoidable, caused or occasioned
by the prevailing motive. In this ties the necessity of our
actions, that, in such circumstances, it was impossible we
could act otherwise. He often expresses himself in like
manner elsewhere, speaking in strong terms of men's ac
tions as unavoidable, what they cannot forbear, having no
power over their own actions, the order of them being un
alterably fixed, and inseparably linked together, &c. §
On the contrary, I have largely declared, that the con
nexion between antecedent things and consequent ones,
which takes place with regard to the acts of men's Wills,
which is called moral necessity, is called by the name of
Necessity improperly ; and that all such terms as must,
cannot, impossible, unable, irresistible, unavoidable, invinci
ble, Sj-c. when applied here, are not applied in their proper
signification, and are either used nonsensically, and with
perfect insignificance, or in a sense quite diverse from their
original and proper meaning, and their use in common
speech : and, that such.a necessity as attends the acts of
men's Will, is more properly called certainty, than neces
sity ; it being no other than the certain connexion between
the subject and predicate of the proposition which affirms
their existence.
Agreeably to what is observed in my Inquiry, I think it
is evidently owing to a strong prejudice, arising from an
insensible habitual, perversion and misapplication of such
like terms, as necessary, impossible, unable, unavoidable, in
vincible, i]c. that they are ready to think, that to suppose a
certain connexion of men's volitions, without any foregoing
motives or inclinations, or any preceding moral influence
whatsoever, is truly and properly to suppose a strong irre
fragable chain of causes and effects, as stand in the way of,
and makes utterly vain, opposite desires and endeavours,
like immovable and impenetrable mountains ofbrass;and
impedes our liberty like walls of adamant, gates of brass,
and bars of iron : whereas, all such representations suggest
ideas as far from the truth, as the east is from the west.
Nothing that I maintain, supposes that men are at all hin
dered by any fatal necessity, from doing, and even willing
and choosing, as they please, with full freedom ; yea, with
the highest degree of liberty that ever was thought of, or
that ever could possibly enter into the heart of any man to
conceive. I know it is in vain to endeavour to make some
persons believe this, or at least fully and steadily to be
lieve it: for if it be demonstrated to them, still the old
prejudice remains, which has been long fixed by the use of
§ P. ISO, 188, 193, 194, 195, 197, 198, 199, £05, 206

Sect. XV.

APPENDIX.

91

the terms necessary, must, cannot, impossible, Sgc. the asso
ciation with these terms of certain ideas, inconsistent with
liberty, is not broken ; and the judgment is powerfully
warped by it; as a thing that has been long bent and
grown stiff, if it be straightened, will return to its former
curvity again and again.
The author of the Essays most manifestly supposes, that
if men had the truth concerning the real necessity of all
their actions clearly in view, they would not appear to
themselves, or one another, as at all praiseworthy or cul
pable, or under any moral obligation, or accountable for
their actions :* which supposes, that men are not to be
blamed or praised for any of their actions, and are not
under any obligations, nor are truly accountable for any
thing they do, by reason of this necessity ; which is very
contrary to what I have endeavoured to prove, throughout
the third part of my Inquiry. I humbly conceive it is
there shown, that this is so far from the truth, that the
moral necessity of men's actions which truly take place, is
requisite to the being of virtue and vice, or any thing
praiseworthy or culpable : that the liberty of indifference
and contingence, which is advanced in opposition to that
necessity, is inconsistent with the being of these ; as it
would suppose that men are not determined in what they
do, by any virtuous or vicious principles, nor act from any
motives, intentions, or aims whatsoever ; or have any end,
either good or bad, in acting. And is it not remarkable,
that this author should suppose, that, in order to men's ac
tions truly having any desert, they must be performed
without any view, purpose, design, or desire, or any principle
of action, or any thing agreeable to a rational nature ? as
it will appear that he does, if we compare, p. 206, 207,
with p. 175.
The author of the Essays supposes, that God has deeply
implanted in man's nature a strong and invincible appre
hension, or feeling, as he calls it, of a liberty, and con
tingence of his own actions, opposite to that necessity
which truly attends them ; and which in truth does not
agree with real fact, f is not agreeable to strict philosophic
truth,! 's contradictory to the truth of things, § and which
truth contradicts,|| not tallying with the real plani^T and
that therefore such feelings are deceitful,** and are in reality
of the delusive kind. ft He speaks of them as a wise de
lusion, 11 as nice artificial feelings, merely that conscience
may have a commanding power : §§ meaning, plainly, that
these feelings are a cunning artifice of the Author of nature,
to make men believe they are free, when they are not.||||
He supposes that, by these feelings, the moral world has a
disguised appearance,^[1T &c. He supposes that all self-
approbation, and all remorse of conscience, all commen
dation or condemnation of ourselves or others, all sense of
desert, and all that is connected with this way of thinking,
all the ideas which at present are suggested by the words
ought, should, arise from this delusion, and would entirely
vanish without it. ***
All which is very contrary to what I have abundantly
insisted on and endeavoured to demonstrate in my In
quiry; where I have largely shown, that it is agreeable to
the natural sense of mankind, that the moral necessity or
certainty that attends men's actions, is consistent with
praise and blame, reward and punishment ;fff and that
it is agreeable to our natural notions, that moral evil,
with its desert of dislike and abhorrence, and all its other
ill-deservings, consists in a certain deformity in the nature
of the dispositions and acts of the heart, and hot in the evil
of something else, diverse from these supposed to be their
cause or occasion. JJJ
I might well ask here, whether any one is to be found
in the world of mankind, who is conscious to a sense or
feeling, naturally and deeply rooted in his mind, that, in
order to a man's performing any action that is praisewor
thy or blameworthy, he must exercise a liberty that im
plies and signifies a power of acting without any motive,
view, design, desire, or principle of action ? For such a
liberty, this author supposes, that must be wbich is op
posed to moral necessity, as I have already observed.
* P. 207, 209. and other places. t P. 200. I P. 1 52. 6 P. 183.
I| P. 186. U P. 205. ** P. 203, 204, 211. tt P. 183. tt P. 209.
SSP. 211. ||l| P. 153. IIP, 214. •** P. 160, 194, 199, 205.
206, 207, 209. ttt Inquiry, Part IV. Sect. 4. throughout.

Supposing a man should actually do good, independent of
desire, aim, inducement, principle, or end, is it a dictate of
invincible natural sense, that his act is more meritorious
or praiseworthy, than if he had performed it for some good
end, and had been governed in it by good principles and
motives? and so I might ask, on the contrary, with respect
to evil actions. §§§
The author of the Essays supposes that the liberty with
out necessity of which we have a natural feeling, implies
contingence ; and, speaking of this contingence, he some
times calls it by the name of chance. And it is evident,
that his notion of it, or rather what he says about it, im
plies things happening loosely, fortuitously, by accident,
and without a cause. [||j|| Now 1 conceive the slightest re
flection may be sufficient to satisfy any one, that such a
contingence of men's actions, according to our natural
sense, is so far from being essential to the morality or
merit of those actions, that it would destroy it ; and that,
on the contrary, the dependence of our actions on such
causes, as inward inclinations, incitements, and ends, is es
sential to the being of it. Natural sense teaches men,
when they see any thing done by others of a good or evil
tendency, to inquire what their intention was, what prin
ciples and views they were moved by, in order to judge
how far they are to be justified or condemned ; and not
to determine, that, in order to their being approved or
blamed at all, the action must be performed altogether
fortuitously, proceeding from nothing, arising from no
'cause. Concerning this matter, I have fully expressed my
mind in the Inquiry.
If the liberty of which we have a natural sense, as ne
cessary to desert, consists in the mind's self-determination,
without being determined by previous inclination or mo
tive, then indifference is essential to it, yea absolute indif
ference ; as is observed in my Inquiry. But men natu
rally have no notion of any such liberty as this, as essential
to the morality or demerit of their actions ; but on the
contrary, such a liberty, if it were possible, would be in
consistent with our natural notions of desert, as is largely
shown in the Inquiry. %^ If it be agreeable to natural
sense, that men must be indifferent in determining their
own actions ; then, according to the same, the more they
are determined by inclination, either good or bad, the less
they have of desert : the more good actions are performed
from good disposition, the less praiseworthy ; and the
more evil deeds are from evil dispositions, the less culpa
ble ; and, in general, the more men's actions are from their
hearts, the less they are to be commended or condemned :
which all must know is very contrary to natural sense.
Moral necessity is owing to the power and government
of the inclination of the heart, either habitual or occasional,
excited by motive : but, according to natural and common
sense, the more a man does any thing with full inclination
of heart, the more is it to be charged to his account for his
condemnation, if it be an ill action, and the more to be
ascribed to him for his praise, if it be good.
If the mind were determined to evil actions by contin
gence, from a state of indifference, then either there would
be no fault in them, or else the fault would be in being so
perfectly indifferent, that the mind was equally liable to
a bad or good determination. And if this indifference
be liberty, then the very essence of the blame or fault
would lie in the liberty itself, or the wickedness would,
primarily and summarily, lie in being a free agent. If
there were no fault in being indifferent, then there would
be no fault in the determination being agreeable to such a
state of indifference : that is, there could be no fault found,
that opposite determinations actually happen to take place
indifferently, sometimes good and sometimes bad, as con
tingence governs and decides. And if it be a fault to be
indifferent to good and evil, then such indifference is no
indifference to good and evil, but is a determination to evil,
or to a fault ; and such an indifferent disposition would be
an evil disposition, tendency, or determination of mind.
So inconsistent are these notions of liberty, as essential to
praise or blame.

JJJ Idem, Part IV. Sect 1. throughout.
illustrated in my Inquiry, Part IV. Sect. 4.
177, 178, 181, 183—185.
Sect. 6, and i.

%%% See this matter
mm p. 156-159,
IUTT Especially in Part. Ill

92

ON THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL.

Part IV.

The author of the Essays supposes men's natural delu
sive sense of a liberty of contingence, to be, in truth, the
foundation of all the labour, care, and industry of man
kind ;* and that if men's " practical ideas had been formed
on the plan of universal necessity, the ignava ratio, the in
active doctrine of the Stoics, would have followed ; and
that there would have been no room for forethought about
futurity, or any sort of industry and care :"f plainly im
plying, that, in this case, men would see and know that all
their industry and care signified nothing, was in vain, and
to no purpose, or of no benefit ; events being fixed in an
irrefragable chain, and not at all depending on their care
and endeavour; as he explains himself, particularly, in the
instance of men's use of means to prolong life :% not only
very contrary to what I largely maintain in my Inquiry,^
but also very inconsistently with his own scheme, in what
he supposes of the ends for which God has so deeply im
planted this deceitful feeling in man's nature ; in which he
manifestly supposes men's care and industry not to be in
vain and of no benefit, but of great use, yea of absolute
necessity, in order to their obtaining the most important
ends and necessary purposes of human life, and to fulfil
the ends of action to the best advantage ; as he largely
declares.|| Now, how shall these things be reconciled?
That, if men had _ clear view of real truth, they would
see that there was no room for their care and industry, be
cause they would see it to be in vain, and of no benefit ;
and yet that God, by having a clear view of real truth,
sees their being excited to care and industry will be of ex
cellent use to mankind, and greatly for the benefit of the
world, yea absolutely necessary in order to it : and that
therefore the great wisdom and goodness of God to men
appears, in artfully contriving to put them on care and
industry for their good, which good could not be obtained
without them ; and yet both these things are maintained at
once, and in the same sentences and words, by this author.
The very reason he gives, why God has put this deceitful
feeling into men, contradicts and destroys itself; that God
in his great goodness to men gave them such a deceitful
feeling, because it was very useful and necessary for them,
and greatly for their benefit, or excites them to care and
industry for their own good, which care and industry is
useful and necessary to that end ; and yet the very thing
for which, as a reason, this great benefit of care and in
dustry is given, is God's deceiving men in this very point,
in making them think their care and industry to be of great
benefit to them, when indeed it is of none at all ; and if
they saw the real truth, they would see all their endeavours
to be wholly useless, that there was no room for them, and
that the event does not at all depend upon them.1T
And besides, what this author says plainly implies, (as
appears by what has been already observed,) that it is ne
cessary men should be deceived, by being made to believe
that future events are contingent, and their own future
actions free, with such a freedom, as signifies that their
actions are not the fruit of their own desires, or designs,
but altogether contingent, fortuitous, and without a cause.
But how should a notion of liberty, consisting in accident
or loose chance, encourage care and industry ? I should
think it would rather entirely discourage every thing of
this nature. For surely, if our actions do not depend on
our desires and designs, then they do not depend on our
endeavours, flowing from our desires and designs. This
author himself seems to suppose, that if men had, indeed,
such a liberty of contingence, it would render all endea
vours to determine or move men's future volitions, in
vain : he says, that, in this case, to exhort, to instruct, to
promise, or to threaten, would be to no purpose.** Why ?
Because (as he himself gives the reason) " then our Will
would be capricious and arbitrary, and we should be
thrown loose altogether, and our arbitrary power could do
us good or ill only by accident." But if such a loose for
tuitous state would render vain others' endeavours upon
us, for the same reason would it make useless our endea
vours on ourselves : for events that are truly contingent
and accidental, and altogether loose from, and independent
of, all foregoing causes, are independent on every foregoing
cause within ourselves, as well as in others.

» P. 184. + P.
§ Especially Part. IV. Sect. 5-

} P. 184, 185.

I suppose that it is so far from being true, that our minds
are naturally possessed with a notion of such liberty as
this, so strongly, that it is impossible to root it out, that
indeed men have no such notion of liberty at all, and that
it is utterly impossible, by any means whatsoever, to im
plant or introduce such a notion into the mind. As no
such notions as imply self-contradiction and self-abolition
can subsist in the mind, as I have shown in my Inquiry;
I think a mature sensible consideration of the matter is
sufficient to satisfy any one, that even the greatest and
most learned advocates themselves for liberty of indiffer
ence and self-determination, have no such notion ; and
that indeed they mean something wholly inconsistent with,
and directly subversive of, what they strenuously affirm,
and earnestly contend for. By a man having a power of
determining his own Will, they plainly mean a power of
determining his Will as he pleases, or as he chooses;
which supposes that the/mind has a choice, prior to its
going about to confirm any action or determination to it.
And if they mean .that they determine even the original or
prime choice, by/fheir own pleasure or choice, as the thing
that causes and directs it ; I scruple not most boldly to
affirm, that they speak they know not what, and that of
which fhey have no manner of idea ; because no such
contradictory notion can come into, or have a moment's
subsistence in, the mind of any man living, as an original
or first choice being caused, or brought into being, by
choice. After all, they say, they have no higher or other
conception of liberty, than that vulgar notion of it, which
I contend for, viz. a man's having power or opportunity to
do as he chooses : or if they had a notion that every act of
choice was determined by choice, yet it would destroy
their notion of the contingence of choice ; for then no one
act of choice would arise contingently, or from a state of
indifference, but every individual act, in all the series,
would arise from foregoing bias or preference, and from a
cause predetermining and fixing its existence, which in
troduces at once such a chain of causes and effects, each
preceding link decisively fixing the following, as they
would by all means avoid.
And such kind of delusion and self-contradiction as this,
does not arise in men's minds by nature: it is not owing
to any natural feeling which God has strongly fixed in the
mind and nature of man ; but to false philosophy, and
strong prejudice, from a deceitful abuse of words. It is
artificial; not in the sense of the author of the Essays,
supposing it to be a deceitful artifice of God ; but artificial
as opposed to natural, and as owing to an artificial deceit
ful management of terms, to darken and confound the
mind. Men have no such thing when they first begin to
exercise reason ; but must have a great deal of time to
blind themselves with metaphysical confusion, before they
can embrace, and rest in, such definitions of liberty as are
given, and imagine they understand them.
On the whole, I humbly conceive, that whosoever will
give himself the trouble of weighing, what I have offered
to consideration in my Inquiry, must be sensible, that
such a moral necessity of men's actions as I maintain, is
not at all inconsistent with any liberty that any creature
has, or can have, as a free, accountable, moral agent, and
subject of moral government ; and that this moral neces
sity is so far from being inconsistent with praise and blame,
and the benefit and use of men's own care anfl labour, that,
on the contrary, it implies the very ground and reason,
why men's actions are to be ascribed to them as their own,
in such a manner as to infer desert, praise and blame, ap
probation and remorse of conscience, reward and punish
ment; and that it establishes the moral system of the
universe, and God's moral government, in every respect,
with the proper use of motives, exhortations, commands,
counsels, promises, and threatenings ; and the use and
benefit of endeavours, care and industry. There is there
fore no need that the strict philosophic truth should be at
all concealed ; nor is there any danger in contemplation
and profound discovery in these things. So far from this,
that the truth in this matter is of vast importance, and ex
tremely needful to be known ; and the. more clearly and
perfectly the real fact is known, and the more constantly

P. 188—192. and in many other places
>* P. 178, 213, 214.

t P. 188, 189, &c.

Sect. XV.

APPENDIX.

93

it is in view, the better. More particularly, that the clear
and full knowledge of that, which is the true system of the
universe, in these respects, would greatly establish the
doctrines which teach the true christian scheme of divine
administration in the city of God, and the gospel of Jesus
Christ, in its most important articles. Indeed these things
never can be well established, and the opposite errors — so
subversive of the whole gospel, which at this day so
greatly and generally prevail — be well confuted, or the
arguments by which they are maintained, answered, till
these points are settled. While this is not done, it is, to
me, beyond doubt, that the friends of those great gospel
truths, will but poorly maintain their controversy with the
adversaries of those truths : they will be obliged often to
snuffle, hide, and turn their backs ; and the latter will have
a strong fort, from whence they never can be driven, and
weapons to use, from which those whom they oppose will
find no shield to screen themselves ; and they will always

puzzle, confound, and keep under the friends of sound
doctrine ; and glory, and vaunt themselves in their advan
tage over them ; and carry their affairs with a high hand,
as they have done already for a long time past.
I conclude, Sir, with asking your pardon for troubling
you with so much in vindication of myself from the impu
tation of advancing a scheme of necessity, like that of the
author of the Essays on the Principles of Morality and
Natural Religion.' Considering that what I have said is
not only in vindication of myself, but, as I think, of the
most important articles of moral philosophy and religion ;
I trust in what I know of your candour, that you will ex
cuse, Your obliged friend and brother,

J. EDWARDS.

Stockbridge, July 25th, 1757.

DISSERTATION

CONCERNING

THE END FOR WHICH GOD CREATED THE WORLD.

PREFACE BY THE FIRST EDITOR.

The Author had designed these Dissertations* for the public view ; and wrote them out as they now appear : though
it is probable, that if his life had been spared, he would have revised them, and rendered them in some respects more
complete. Some new sentiments, here and there, might probably have been added ; and some passages brightened
with farther illustrations. This may be conjectured from some brief hints or sentiments minuted down on loose papers,
found in the manuscripts.
But those sentiments concisely sketched out, which, it is thought, the author intended to enlarge, and digest into the
body of the work, cannot be so amplified by any other hand, as to do justice to the author : it is therefore probably best
that nothing of this kind should be attempted.
As these Dissertations were more especially designed for the learned and inquisitive, it is expected that the judicious
and candid will not be disposed to object, that the manner in which these subjects are treated is something above the
level of common readers. For though a superficial way of discourse and loose harangues may well enough suit some
subjects, and answer some valuable purposes ; yet other subjects demand more closeness and accuracy. And if an
author should neglect to do justice to a subject, for fear that the simpler sort should not fully understand him, he
might expect to be deemed a trifler by the more intelligent.
Our author had a rare talent to penetrate deep in search of truth ; to take an extensive survey of a subject, and
look through it into remote consequences. Hence many theorems, that appeared hard and barren to others, were to
him pleasant and fruitful fields, where his mind would expatiate with peculiar ease, profit, and entertainment. Those
studies, which to some are too fatiguing to the mind, and wearying to the constitution, were to him but a natural play
of genius, and which his mind without labour would freely and spontaneously perform. A close and conclusive way
of reasoning upon a controversial point was easy and natural to him.
This may serve, it is conceived, to account for his usual manner of treating abstruse and controverted subjects,
which some have thought has been too metaphysical. But the truth is, that his critical method of looking .through the
nature of his subject,- — his accuracy and precision in canvassing truth, comparing ideas, drawing consequences, pointing
out and exposing absurdities, — naturally led him to reduce the evidence in favour of truth into the form of demon
stration ; which, doubtless, where it can be obtained, is the most eligible, and by far the most satisfying to great and
noble minds. And though some readers may find the labour hard to keep pace with the writer, in the advances he
makes, where the ascent is arduous ; yet in general all was easy to him : such was his peculiar love and discernment
of truth, and natural propensity to search after it. His own ideas were clear to him, where some readers have thought
them obscure. Thus many things in the works of Newton and Locke, which appear either quite unintelligible, or
very obscure, to the illiterate, were clear and bright to those illustrious authors, and their learned readers.
The subjects here handled are sublime and important. The end which God had in view in creating the world, was
doubtless worthy of him ; and consequently the most excellent and glorious possible. This therefore must be worthy
to be known by all the intelligent creation, as excellent in itself, and worthy of their pursuit. And as true virtue dis
tinguishes the inhabitants of heaven, and all the happy candidates for that world of glory, from all others ; there can
not surely be a more interesting subject.
The notions which some men entertain concerning God's end in creating the world, and concerning true virtue,
in our late author's opinion, have a natural tendency to corrupt Christianity, and to destroy the gospel of our divine
Redeemer. It was therefore, no doubt, in the exercise of a pious concern for the honour and glory of God, and a
tender respect to the best interests of his fellow-men, that this devout and learned writer undertook the following
work. — May the Father of lights smile upon the pious and benevolent aims and labours of his servant, and crown
them with his blessing !
* This preface was originally prefixed to the two following Dissertations, " concerning the End for which God created the World, and the Nature of
True Virtue," in one volume. — W.

DISSERTATION, &c

INTRODUCTION.
Containing explanations of terms and general positions.
To avoid all confusion in our inquiries concerning the end
for which God created the world, a distinction should be
observed between the chief end for which an agent per
forms any work, and the ultimate end. These two phrases
are not always precisely of the same signification : and
though the chief end be always an ultimate end, yet every
ultimate end is not always a chief end. A chief end is
opposite to an inferior end : an ultimate end is opposite
to a subordinate end.
A subordinate end is what an agent aims at, not at all
upon its own account, but wholly on the account of a
further end, of which it is considered as a means. Thus
when a man goes a journey to obtain a medicine to restore
his health, the obtaining of that medicine is his subordi
nate end ; because it is not an end that he values at all
upon its own account, but wholly as a means of a further
end, viz. his health. Separate the medicine from that
further end, and it is not at all desired.
An ultimate end is that which the agent seeks, in what
he does, for its own sake ; what he loves, values, and takes
pleasure in on its own account, and not merely as a means
of a further end. As when a man loves the taste of some
particular sort of fruit, and is at pains and cost to obtain
it, for the sake of the pleasure of that taste which he
values upon its own account, as he loves his own pleasure ;
and not merely for the sake of any other good, which he
supposes his enjoying that pleasure will be the means of.
Some ends are subordinate, not only as they are subor
dinated to an ultimate end ; but also to another end that
is itself but subordinate. Yea, there may be a succession
or chain of many subordinate ends, one dependent on an
other, one sought for another ; before you come to any
thing that the agent aims at, and seeks for its own sake.
As when a man sells a garment to get money — to buy
tools— to till his land — to obtain a crop — to supply him
with food — to gratify the appetite. And he seeks to gratify
his appetite, on its own account, as what is grateful in
itself. Here the end of his selling his garment to get
money, is only a subordinate end ; and it is not only
subordinate to the ultimate end — gratifying his appetite —
but to a nearer end — buying husbandry tools ; and his
obtaining these is only a subordinate end, being only for
the sake of tilling land. And the tillage of land is an end
not sought on its own account, but for the sake of the crop
to be produced ; and the crop produced is an end sought
only for the sake of making bread ; and bread is sought
for the sake of gratifying the appetite.
Here gratifying the appetite is called the ultimate end ;
because it is the last in the chain where a man's aim rests,
obtaining in that the thing finally aimed at. So whenever
a man comes to that in which his desire terminates and
rests, it being something valued on its own account, then
he comes to an ultimate end, let the chain be longer or
shorter; yea, if there be but one link or one step that he

takes before he comes to this end. As when a man that
loves honey puts it into his mouth, for the sake of the
pleasure of the taste, without aiming at any thing further.
So that an end which an agent has in view, may be both
his immediate and his ultimate end ; his next and his lust
end. That end which is sought for the sake of itself, and
not for the sake of a further end, is an ultimate end ; there
the aim of the agent stops and rests.
A thing sought may have the nature of an ultimate, and
also of a subordinate end ; as it may be sought partly on
its own account, and partly for the sake of a further end.
Thus a man, in what he does, may seek the love and
respect of a particular person, partly on its own account,
because it is in itself agreeable to men to be the objects of
others' esteem and love ; and partly, because he hopes,
through the friendship of that person, to have his assist
ance in other affairs ; and so to be put under advantage
for obtaining further ends.
A chief end, which is opposite to an inferior end, is
something diverse from an ultimate end ; it is most valued,
and therefore most sought after by the agent in what he
does. It is evident, that to be an end more valued than
another end, is not exactly the same thing as to be an
end valued ultimately, or for its own sake. This will ap
pear, if it be considered,
1. That two different ends may be both ultimate, and
yet not be chief ends. They may be both valued for their
own sake, and both sought in the same work or acts ; and
yet one valued more highly, and sought more than another.
Thus a man may go a journey to obtain two different
benefits or enjoyments, both which may be agreeable to
him in themselves considered ; and yet one may be much
more agreeable than the other; and so be what he sets his
heart chiefly upon. Thus a man may go a. journey, partly
to obtain the possession and enjoyment of a bride that is
very dear to him; and partly to gratify his curiosity in
looking in a telescope, or some new-invented and extraor
dinary optic glass ; and the one not properly subordinate
to the other ; and therefore both may be ultimate ends.
But yet obtaining his beloved bride may be his chief end ;
and the benefit of the optic glass his inferior end.
2. An ultimate end is not always the chief end, because
some subordinate ends may be more valued and sought
after than some ultimate ends. Thus, for instance, a man
may aim at two things in his journey ; one, to visit his
friends, and another, to receive a large sum of money. The
latter may be but a subordinate end ; he may not value
the silver and gold on their own account, but only for
pleasure, gratification, and honour ; the money is valued
only as a means of the other. But yet, obtaining the
money may be more valued, and so is a higher end of his
journey than the pleasure of seeing his friends; though
the latter is valued on its own account, and so is an ulti
mate end.
But here several things may be noted :
First, When it is said, that some subordinate ends may
be more valued than some ultimate ends, it is not supposed
that ever a subordinate end is more valued than that to
which it is subordinate. For that reason it is called a

96

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

subordinate end, because it is valued and sought not for
its own sake, but only in subordination to a. further end.
But yet a subordinate end may be valued more than some
other ultimate end that it is not subordinate to. Thus, for
instance, a man goes a journey to receive a sum of money,
only for the value of the pleasure and honour that the
money may be a means of. In this case it is impossible
that the subordinate end, viz. his having the money, should
be more valued by him than the pleasure and honour for
which he values it. It would be absurd to suppose that
he values the means more than the end, when he has no
value for the means, but for the sake of the end of which it
is the means. But yet he may value the money, though
but a subordinate end, more than some other ultimate end
to which it is not subordinate, and with which it has no
connexion. For instance, more than the comfort of a
friendly visit, which was one ultimate end of his journey.
Secondly, The ultimate end is always superior to its
subordinate end, and more valued by the agent, unless it
be when the ultimate end entirely depends on the subor
dinate. If he has no other means by which to obtain his
last end, then the subordinate may be as much valued as
the last end; because the last end, in such a case, alto
gether depends upon, and is wholly and certainly conveyed
by it. As for instance, if a pregnant woman has a peculiar
appetite to a certain rare fruit that is to be found only in
the garden of a particular friend of hers, at a distance — and
she goes a journey to her friend's house or garden, to ob
tain that fruit — the ultimate end of her journey is to gratify
that strong appetite ; the obtaining that fruit, is the subor
dinate end otit. If she looks upon it, that the appetite can
be gratified by no other means than the obtaining of that
fruit ; and that it will certainly be gratified if she obtain
it, then she will value the fruit as much as she values the
gratification of her appetite. But otherwise, it will not be
so. If she be doubtful whether that fruit will satisfy her
craving, then she will not value it equally with the gratifi
cation of her appetite itself. Or if there be some other fruit
that she knows of, that will gratify her desire, at least in
part, which she can obtain without such trouble as shall
countervail the gratification — or if her appetite cannot be
gratified without this fruit, nor yet with it alone, without
something else to be compounded with it — then her value
for her last end will be divided between these several in
gredients, as so many subordinate ends, and no one atone
will be equally valued with the last end. Hence it rarely
happens, that a subordinate end is equally valued with its
last end ; because the obtaining of a last end rarely de
pends on one single, uncompounded means, and infallibly
connected with it. Therefore, men's last ends are com
monly their highest ends.
Thirdly, Ii any being has but one. ultimate end, in all
that he does, and there be a great variety of operations, his
last end may justly be looked upon as his supreme end.
For in such a case, every other end but that one, is in
order to that end ; and therefore no other can be superior to
it. Because, as was observed before, a subordinate end is
never more valued than the end to which it is subordinate.
Moreover, the subordinate effects, or events, brought to
pass, as means of this end, all uniting to contribute their
share towards obtaining the one last end, are very various;
and therefore, by what has been now observed, the ulti
mate end of all must be valued more than any one of the
particular means. This seems to be the case with the
works of God, as may more fully appear in the sequel.
Fourthly, Whatsoever any agent has in view in any
thing he does, which is agreeable to him in itself, and not
merely for the sake of something else, is regarded by that
agent as his last end. The same may be said of avoiding
that which is in itself painful or disagreeable ; for the
avoiding of what is disagreeable is agreeable. This will be
evident to any bearing in mind the meaning of the terms.
By last end being meant, that which is regarded and sought
by an agent, as agreeable or desirable for its own sake ; a
subordinate, that which is sought only for the sake of some
thing else.
Fifthly, From hence it will follow, that, if an agent has
in view more things than one that will be brought to pass
by what he does, which he loves and delights in on their
own account, then he must have more things than one that

he regards as his last ends in what he does. But if there
be but one thing that an agent seeks, on its own account,
then there can De but one last end which he has in all his
actions and operations.
But only here a distinction must be observed of things
which may be said to be agreeable to an agent, in them
selves considered: (1.) What is in itself grateful to an agent,
and valued on its own account, simply and absolutely con
sidered ; antecedent to, and independent of all conditions,
or any supposition of particular cases and circumstances.
And, (2.) What may be said to be in itself agreeable to an
agent, hypothetically and consequentially ; or, on supposi
tion of such and such circumstances, or on the happening
of such a particular case.
Thus, for instance, a man may originally love society.
An inclination to society may be implanted in his very na
ture ; and society may be agreeable to him antecedent to
all pre-supposed cases and circumstances ; and this may
cause him to seek a family. And the comfort of society
may be originally his lust end, in seeking a family. But
after he has a family, peace, good order, and mutual justice
and friendship in his family, may be agreeable to him, and
what he delights in for their own sake ; and therefore these
things may be his last end in many things he does in the
government and regulation of his family. But they were
not his original end with respect to his family. The justice
and the peace of a family was not properly his last end
before he had a family, that induced him to seek a family,
but consequentially. And the case being put of his having
a family, then these things wherein the good order and
beauty of a family consist, become his last end in many
things he does in such circumstances.
In like manner we must suppose that God, before he
created the world, had some good in view, as a consequence
of the world's existence, that was originally agreeable to
him in itself considered, that inclined him to bring the
universe into existence, in such a manner as he created it.
But after the world was created, and such and such in
telligent creatures actually had existence, in such and such
circumstances, then a wise, just regulation of them was
agreeable to God, in itself considered. And God's love of
justice, and hatred of injustice, would be sufficient in such
a case to induce God to deal justly with his creatures, and
to prevent all injustice in him towards them. But yet
there is no necessity of supposing, that God's love of doing
justly to intelligent beings, and hatred of the contrary, was
what originally induced God to create the world, and make
intelligent beings; and so to order the occasion of doing
either justly or unjustly. The justice of God's nature
makes a just regulation agreeable, and the contrary dis
agreeable, as there is occasion ; the subject being supposed,
and the occasion given. But we must suppose something
else that should incline him to create the subjects, or order
the occasion.
So that perfection of God which we call his faithfulness,
or his inclination to fulfil his promises to his creatures,
could not properly be what moved him to create the world ;
nor could such a fulfilment of his promises to his creatures
be his last end in giving the creatures being. But yet
after the world is created, after intelligent creatures are
made, and God has bound himself by promise to them,
then that disposition, which is called his faithfulness, may
move him in his providential disposals towards them ; and
this may be the end of many of God's works of providence,!
even the exercise of his faithfulness in fulfilling his pro
mises, and may be in the lower sense his last end ; be
cause faithfulness and truth must be supposed to be what
is in itself amiable to God, and what he delights in for its
own sake. Thus God may have ends of particular works
of providence, which are ultimate ends in a lower sense,
which were not ultimate ends of the creation.
So that here we have two sorts of ultimate ends ; one
of which may be called, original and independent, the other,
consequential and dependent ; for it is evident, the latter sort
are truly of the nature of ultimate ends ; because though
their being agreeable to the agent, be consequential on the
existence, yet the subject and occasion being supposed,
they are agreeable and amiable in themselves. We may
suppose, that, to a righteous Being, doing justice between
two parties, with whom he is concerned, is agreeable in

Sect. 1.

THE GENERAL DICTATES OF REASON.

07

itself, and not merely for the sake of some other end :
And yet we may suppose, that a desire of doing justice be
tween two parties, may be consequential on the being of
those parties, and the occasion given. — It may be observed,
that when I speak of God's ultimate end in the creation of
the world, in the following discourse, I commonly mean in
that highest sense, viz. the original ultimate end.
Sixthly, It may be further observed, that the original
ultimate end or ends of the creation of the world is alone-
thai which induces God to give the occasion for conse
quential ends, by the first creation of the world, and the
original disposal of it. And the more original the end is,
the more extensive and universal it is. That which God
had primarily in view in creating, and the original ordina
tion of the world, must be constantly kept in view, and
have a governing influence in all God's works, or with
respect to every thing he does towards his creatures. And
therefore, Seventhly, If we use the phrase ultimate end in this
highest sense, then the same that is God's ultimate end in
creating the world, if we suppose but one such end, must
be what he makes his ultimate aim in all his works, in
every thing he does either in creation or providence. But
we must suppose, that, in the use to which God puts his
creatures, he must evermore have a - regard to the end for
which he has made them. But if we take ultimate end in
the other lower sense, God may sometimes have regard to
those things as ultimate ends, in particular works of provi
dence, which could not in any proper sense be his last end
in creating the world.
Eighthly, On the other hand, whatever appears to be
God^ ultimate end, in any sense, of his works of provi
dence in general ; that must be the ultimate end of the
work of creation itself. For though God may act for an
end that is ultimate in a lower sense, in some of his works
of providence, which is not the ultimate end of the crea
tion of the world, yet this doth not take place with regard
to the works of providence in general ; for God's works
of providence in general, are the same with the general use
to which he puts the world he has made. And we may
well argue from what we see of the general use which God
makes of the world, to the general end for which he de
signed the world. Though there may be some ends of
particular works of providence, that were not the last end
of the creation, which are in themselves grateful to God in
such particular emergent circumstances, and so are last
ends in an inferior sense ; yet this is only in certain cases,
or particular occasions. But if they are last ends of God's
proceedings in the use of the world in general, this shows
that his making them last ends does not depend on particular
cases and circumstances, but the nature of things in gene
ral, and his general design in the being and constitution of
the universe.
Ninthly, If there be but one thing that is originally, and
independent on any future supposed cases, agreeable to
God, to be obtained by the creation of the world, then
there can be but one last end of God's work, in this highest
sense. But if there are various things, properly diverse
one from another, that are absolutely and independently
agreeable to the Divine Being, which are actually obtained
by the creation of the world, then there were several ulti
mate ends of the creation in that highest sense.

CHAP. I.
WHEREIN IS CONSIDERED, .WHAT REASON TEACHES CON
CERNING THIS AFFAIR.
Sect. I.
Seme things observed in general,which reason dictates.
Having observed these things, to prevent confusion, I
now proceed to consider what may, and what may not, be
supposed to be God's ultimate end in the creation of the
world.

Indeed this affair seems properly to be an affair of di
vine revelation. In order to be determined what was
designed, in the creating of the astonishing fabric of the
universe we behold, it becomes us to attend to, and rely
on, what he has told us, who was the architect. He best
knows his own heart, and what his own ends and designs
were, in the wonderful works which he has wrought. Nor
is it to be supposed that mankind — who, while destitute
of revelation, by the utmost improvements of their own
reason, and advances in science and philosophy, could
come to no clear and established determination who the
author of the world was — would ever have obtained any
tolerable settled judgment of the end which the author of
it proposed to himself in so vast, complicated, and won
derful a work of his hands. And though it be true, that
the revelation which God has given to men, as a light
shining in a dark place, has been the occasion of great
improvement of their faculties, and has taught men how
to use their reason ; and though mankind now, through
the long-continued assistance they have had by this divine
light, have come to great attainments in the habitual ex
ercise of reason ; yet I confess it would be relying too
much on reason, to determine the affair of God's last end
in the creation of the world, without being herein princi
pally guided by divine revelation, since God has given a
revelation containing instructions concerning this very
matter. Nevertheless, as objections have chiefly been ,
made, against what I think the Scriptures have truly re
vealed, from the pretended dictates of reason, I would, in
the first place, soberly consider in a few things, what
seems rational to be supposed concerning this affair ;—
and then proceed to consider what light divine revelation
gives us in it. .
. As to the first of these, I think the following things ap
pear to be the dictates of reason :
1. That no notion of God's last end in the creation of
the world, is agreeable to reason, which would truly imply
any indigence, insufficiency, and mutability in God ; or
any dependence of the Creator on the creature, for any part
of his perfection or happiness. Because it is evident, by
both Scripture and reason, that God is infinitely, eternally,
unchangeably, and independently glorious and happy :
that he cannot be profited by, or receive any thing from,
the creature ; or be the subject of any sufferings, or dimi
nution of his glory and felicity, from any other being.
The notion of God creating the world, in order to receive
anv thing properly from the creature, is not only contrary
to "the nature of God, but inconsistent with the notion of
creation ; which implies a being receiving its existence,
and all that belongs to it, out of nothing. And this im
plies the most perfect, absolute, and universal derivation
and dependence. Now, if the creature receives its all
from God, entirely and perfectly, how is it possible that it )
should have any thing to add to God, to make him in any
respect more than he was before, and so the Creator be
come dependent on the creature ?
2. Whatsoever is good and valuable in itself, is worthy
that God should value it with an ultimate respect. It is
therefore worthy to be made the last end of his operation ;
if it be properly capable of being attained. For it may be
supposed that some things, valuable and excellent in them
selves, are not properly capable of being attained in any
divine operation ; because their existence, in all possible
respects, must be conceived of as prior to any divine
operation. Thus God's existence and infinite perfection,
though infinitely valuable in themselves, cannot be sup
posed to be the end of any divine operation ; for we cannot
conceive of them as, in any respect, consequent on any
works of God. But whatever is in itself valuable, abso
lutely so, and is capable of being sought and attained, is
worthy to be made a last end of the divine operation.—
Therefore, ,„ ...
3. Whatever that be which is in itself most valuable,
and was so originallv, prior to the creation of the world,
and which is attainable by the creation, if there be any
thing which was superior in value to all others, Mai must
be worthy to be God's last end in the creation ; and also
worthy to be his highest end.— In consequence of this it
will follow,
4. Thai if God himself be, in any respect, properly ca-

98

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION

Chap. I.

; of being his own end in the creation of the world,
then it is reasonable to suppose that he had respect to
himself, as his last and highest end, in this work ; because
he is 'worthy in himself to be so, being infinitely the great
est and best of beings. All things else, with regard to
worthiness, importance, and excellence, are perfectly as
nothing in comparison of him. And therefore, if God has
respect to things according to their nature and proportions,
he must necessarily have the greatest respect to himself.
It would be against the perfection of his nature, his wis
dom, holiness, and perfect rectitude, whereby he is dis
posed to do every thing that is fit to be done, to suppose
otherwise. At least, a great part of the moral rectitude of
God, whereby he is disposed to every thing that is fit,
suitable, and amiable in itself, consists in his having the
highest regard to that which is in itself highest and
best. The moral rectitude of God must consist in a due
respect to things that are objects of moral respect ; that is,
to intelligent beings capable of moral actions and relations.
And therefore it must chiefly consist in giving due respect
to that Being to whom most is due ; for God is infinitely
the most worthy of regard. The worthiness of others is as
nothing to his ; so that to him belongs all possible respect.
To him belongs the whole of the respect that any intelli
gent being is capable of. To him belongs all the heart.
Therefore, if moral rectitude of heart consists in paying
the respect of the heart which is due, or which fitness and
suitableness requires, fitness requires infinitely the greatest
regard to be paid to God ; and the denying of supreme
regard here would be a conduct infinitely the most unfit.
Hence it will follow, that the moral rectitude of the dis
position, inclination, or affection of God chiefly consists
in a regard to himself, infinitely above his regard to all
other beings ; or, in other words, his holiness consists in
this. And if it be thus fit that God should have a supreme
regard to himself, then it is fit that this supreme regard
should appear in those things by which he makes himself
known, or by his word and works, i. e. in what he says,
and in what he does. If it be an infinitely amiable thing
in God, that he should have a supreme regard to himself,
then it is an amiable thing that he should act as having a
chief regard to himself; or act in such a manner, as to
sAow that he has such a regard : that what is highest in
God's heart, may be highest in his actions and conduct.
And if it was God's intention, as there is great reason to
think it was, that tis works should exhibit an image of
himself their author, that it might brightly appear by his
works what manner of being he is, and afford a proper re
presentation of his divine excellencies, and especially his
moral excellence, consisting in the disposition of his heart;
then it is reasonable to suppose that his works are so
wrought as to show this supreme respect to himself, wherein
his moral excellence primarily consists.
When we are considering what would be most fit for
God chiefly to respect, with regard to the universality of
things, it may help us to judge with greater ease and satis
faction, to consider, what we can suppose would be deter
mined by some third being of perfect wisdom and rectitude,
that should be perfectly indifferent and disinterested. Or
if we make the supposition, that infinitely wise justice and
rectitude were a distinct disinterested person, whose office
it was to determine how things shall be most properly or
dered in the whole kingdom of existence, including king
and subjects, God and his creatures; and, upon a view
of the whole, to decide what regard should prevail in all
proceedings. Now such a judge, in adjusting the proper
measures and kinds of regard, would weigh things in an
¦even balance ; taking care, that a greater part of the
whole should be more respected, than the lesser, in pro
portion (other things being equal) to the measure of exist
ence. So that the degree of regard should always be in a
proportion compounded of the proportion of existence, and
proportion of excellence, or according to the degree of great
ness and goodness, considered conjunctly. Such an arbiter,
in considering the system of created intelligent beings by
itself, would determine, that the system in general, consist
ing of many millions, was of greater importance, and
worthy of a greater share of regard, than only one individual.
For, however considerable some of the individuals might

be, no one exceeds others so much as to countervail all the
system. And if this judge consider not only the system of
created beings, but the system of being in general, compre
hending the sum total of universal existence, both Creator
and creature ; still every part must be considered accord
ing to its importance, or the measure it has of existence
and excellence. To determine then, what proportion of
regard is to be allotted to the Creator, and all his creatures
taken together, both must be as it were put in the balance;
the Supreme Being, with all in him that is great and excel
lent, is to be compared with all that is to be found in the
whole creation : and according as the former is found to
outweigh, in such proportion is he to have a greater share
of regard. And in this case, as the whole system of
created beings, in comparison of the Creator, would be
found as the light dust of the balance, or even as nothing
and vanity ; so the arbiter must determine accordingly
with respect to the degree in which God should be regard
ed, by all intelligent existence, in all actions and proceed
ings, determinations and effects whatever, whether creating,
preserving, using, disposing, changing, or destroying. And
as the Creator is infinite, and has all possible existence,
perfection, and excellence, so he must have all possible
regard. As he is every way the first and supreme, and as
his excellency is, in all respects the supreme beauty and
glory, the original good, and fountain of all good ; so he
must have in all respects the supreme regard. And as he
is God over all, to whom all are properly subordinate, and
on whom all depend, worthy to reign as supreme Head,
with absolute and universal dominion; so it is Jit that he
should be so regarded by all, and in all proceedings and
effects through the whole system : The universality of
things, in their whole compass and series, should look to
him, in such a manner, as that respect to him should reign
over all respect to other things, and regard to creatures
should, universally, be subordinate and subject.
When I speak of regard to be thus adjusted in the
universal system, I mean the regard of the sum total; all
intelligent existence, created and uncreated. For it is fit,
that the regard of the Creator should be proportioned to
the worthiness of objects, as well as the regard of creatures.
Thus, we must conclude, that such an arbiter as I have
supposed, would determine, that the whole universe, in
all its actings, proceedings, revolutions, and entire series
of events, should proceed with a view to God, as the su
preme and last end ; that every wheel, in all its rotations,
should move with a constant invariable regard to him as,
the ultimate end of all ; as perfectly and uniformly, as if
the whole system were animated and directed by one
common soul. Or, as if such an arbiter as I have before
supposed, possessed of perfect wisdom and rectitude, be
came the common soul of the universe, and actuated and
governed it in all its motions.
Thus I have gone upon the supposition of a third dis
interested person. The thing supposed is impossible;
but the case is, nevertheless, just the same, as to what is
most fit and suitable in itself. For it is most certainly
proper for God to act, according to the greatest fitness, and
he knows what the greatest fitness is, as much as if perfect
rectitude were a distinct person to direct him. God him
self is possessed of that perfect discernment and rectitude
which have, been supposed. It belongs to him as supreme
arbiter, and to his infinite wisdom and rectitude, to state
all rules and measures of proceedings. And seeing these
attributes of God are infinite, and most absolutely perfect,
they are not the less fit to order and dispose, because they
are in him, who is a being concerned, and not a third person
that is disinterested. For being interested unfits a person
to be an arbiter or judge, no otherwise, than as interest
tends to mislead his judgment, or incline him to act con
trary to it. But that God should be in danger of either,
is contrary to the supposition of his being absolutely
perfect. And as there must be some supreme judge of
fitness and propriety in the universality of things, or
otherwise there could be no order, it therefore belongs to
God, whose are all things, who is perfectly fit for this
office, and who alone is so, to state all things according to
the most perfect fitness and rectitude, as much as if perfect
rectitude were a distinct person. We may therefore be
sure it is and will be done.

Sect. II.

WHAT REASON SUPPOSES.

99

I should think that these things might incline us to
suppose, that God has not forgot himself, in the ends
which he proposed in the creation of the world ; but that
he has so stated these ends, (however self-sufficient, im
mutable, and independent,) as therein plainly to show a
supreme regard to himself. Whether this can be, or whe
ther God has done thus, must be considered afterwards, as
also what may be objected against this view of things.
5. Whatsoever is good, amiable, and valuable in itself,
absolutely and originally, (which facts and events show that
God aimed at in the creation of the world,) must be sup
posed to be regarded or aimed at by God ultimately, or as
an ultimate end of creation. For we must suppose, from
the perfection of God's nature, that whatsoever is valuable
and amiable in itself, simply and absolutely considered,
God values simply for itself; because God's judgment and
esteem are according to truth. But if God values a thing
simply and absolutely on its own account, then it is the
ultimate object of his value. For to suppose that he values
it only for some farther end, is in direct contradiction to
the present supposition, which is, that he values it abso
lutely, and for itself. Hence it most clearly follows, that
if that which God values/or itself, appears, in fact and ex
perience, to be what he seeks by any thing he does, he
must regard it as an ultimate end. And, therefore, if he
seeks it in creating the world, or any part of the world, it is
an ultimate end of the work of creation. Having got thus
far, we may now proceed a step farther, and assert,
6. Whatsoever thing is actually the effect of the creation
of the world, which is simply and absolutely valuable in
itself, that thing is an ultimate end of God's creating the
world. We see that it is a good which God aimed at by
the creation of the world ; because he has actually attained
it by that means. For we may justly infer what God in
tends, by what he actually does ; because he does nothing
inadvertently, or without design. But whatever God in
tends to attain, from a value for it, in his actions and
works, that he seeks in those acts and works. Because,
for an agent to intend to attain something he values by the
means he uses, is the same thing as to seek it by those
means. And this is the same as to make that thing his
end in those means. Now, it being, by the supposition,
what God values ultimately, it must therefore, by the pre
ceding position, be aimed at by God, as an ultimate end of
creating the world.

SECT. II.
Some further observations concerning these things which
reason leads us to suppose God aimed at in the creation of
the world.
From what was last observed, it seems to be the most
proper way of proceeding — as we would see what light
reason will give us, respecting the particular end or ends
God had ultimately in view in the creation of the world —
to consider, what thing or things are actually the effect or
consequence of the creation of the world, that are simply
and originally valuable in themselves. And this is what
I would directly proceed to, without entering on any
tedious metaphysical inquiries, wherein fitness, or amiable
ness, consists ; referring what I say to the dictates of the
reader's mind, on sedate and calm reflection.
1. It seems a thing in itself proper and desirable, that
the glorious attributes of God, which consist in a sufficiency
to certain acts and effects, should be exerted in the produc
tion of such effects as might manifest his infinite power,
wisdom, righteousness, goodness, &c. If the world had
not been created, these attributes never would have had
any exercise. The power of God, which is a sufficiency in
him to produce great effects, must for ever have been dor
mant and useless as to any effect. The divine wisdom and
prudence would have had no exercise in any wise contri
vance, any prudent proceeding, or disposal of things ; for
there would have been no objects of contrivance or disposal.
* " The end of wisdom (says Mr. G. Tennent, in his sermon at the open
ing of the preshyterian church of Philadelphia) is design ; the end of power
is action ; the end of goodness is doing good. To suppose these perfections
not to be exerted would be to represent tjiem as insignificant. Of what use
H 2

The same might be observed of God's justice, goodness,
and truth. Indeed God might have known as perfectly
that he possessed these attributes, if they never had been
exerted or expressed in any effect. But then, if the attri
butes which consist in a sufficiency for correspondent effects,
are in themselves excellent, the exercises of them must like
wise be excellent. If it be an excellent thing, that there
should be a sufficiency for a certain kind of action or
operation, the excellency of such a sufficiency must consist
in its relation to this kind of operation or effect ; but that
could not be, unless the operation itself were excellent. A
sufficiency for any work is no further valuable, than the
work itself is valuable.* As God therefore esteems these
attributes themselves valuable, and delights in them ; so it
is natural to suppose that he delights in their proper ex
ercise and expression. For the same reason that he esteems
his own sufficiency wisely to contrive and dispose effects,
he also will esteem the wise contrivance and disposition
itself. And for the same reason, as he delights in his own
disposition to do justly, and to dispose of things according
to truth and just proportion ; so he must delight in such a
righteous disposal itself.
2. It seems to be a thing in itself fit and desirable, that
the glorious perfections of God should be known, and the
operations and expressions of them seen, by other beings
besides himself. If it be fit that God's power and wisdom,
&c. should be exercised and expressed in some effects, and
not lie eternally dormant, then it seems proper that these
exercises should appear, and not be totally hidden and un
known. For if they are, it will be just the same, as to the
above purpose, as if they were not. God as perfectly knew
himself and his perfections, had as perfect an idea of the
exercises and effects they were sufficient for, antecedently to
any such actual operations of them, and since. If, there
fore, it be nevertheless a thing in itself valuable, and wor
thy to be desired, that these glorious perfections be actually
exhibited in their correspondent effects ; then it seems also,
that the knowledge of these perfections and discoveries is
valuable in itself absolutely considered; and that it is de
sirable that this knowledge should exist. It is a thing in
finitely good in itself, that God's glory should be known by
a glorious society of created beings. And that there
should be in them an increasing knowledge of God to all
eternity, is worthy to be regarded by him, to whom it be
longs to order what is fittest and best. If existence is more
worthy than defect and non-entity, and if any created ex
istence is in itself worthy to be, then knowledge is ; and if
any knowledge, then the most excellent sort of knowledge,
viz. that of God and his glory. This knowledge is one of
the highest, most real, and substantial parts of all created
existence, most remote from non-entity and defect.
3. As it is desirable in itself that God's glory should be
known, so when known it seems equally reasonable it
should be esteemed and delighted in, answerably to its
dignity. There is no more reason to esteem it a suitable
thing, that there should be an idea in the understanding
corresponding unto the glorious object, than that there
should be a corresponding affection in the will. If the per
fection itself be excellent, the knowledge of it is excellent,
and so is the esteem and love of it excellent. And as
it is fit that God should love and esteem his own excel
lence, it is also fit that he should value and esteem the
love of his excellency. And if it becomes a being highly to
value himself, it is fit that he should love to have himself
valued and esteemed. If the idea of God's perfection in
the understanding be valuable, then the love of the heart
seems to be more especially valuable,as moral beauty espe
cially consists in the disposition and affection of the heart.
4. As there is an infinite fulness of all possible good in
God — a fulness of every perfection, of all excellency and
beauty, and of infinite happiness — and as this fulness is
capable of communication, or emanation ad extra ; so it
seems a thing amiable and valuable in itself 'that this in
finite fountain of good should send forth abundant streams.
And as this is in itself excellent, so a disposition to this in
the Divine Being, must be looked upon as an excellent dis-
would God's wisdom be, if it had nothing to design or direct ? To what
purpose his almightiness, if it never brought any thing to pass ? And of
what avail his goodness, if it never did any good ?"

100

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. I.

position. Such an emanation of good is, in some sense, a
multiplication of it. So far as the stream may be looked
upon as any thing besides the fountain, so far it may be
looked on as an increase of good. And if the fulness of
good that is in the fountain, is in itself excellent, then the
emanation, which is as it were an increase, repetition, or
multiplication of it, is excellent. Thus it is fit, since there
is an infinite fountain of light and knowledge, that this
light should shine forth in beams of communicated know
ledge and understanding ; and, as there is an infinite foun
tain of holiness, moral excellence, and beauty, that so it
should flow out in communicated holiness. And that, as
there is an infinite fulness of joy and happiness, so these
should have an emanation, and become a fountain flowing
out in abundant streams, as beams from the sun.
Thus it appears reasonable to suppose, that it was God's
last end, that there might be a glorious and abundant
emanation of his infinite fulness of good ad extra, or with
out himself; and that the disposition to communicate him
self, or diffuse his own fulness,* was what moved him
to create the world. But here I observe, that there would
be some impropriety in saying, that a disposition in God
to communicate himself to the creature, moved him to
create the world. For an inclination in God to communi
cate himself to an object, seems to presuppose the exist
ence of the object, at least in idea. But the diffusive
disposition that excited God to give creatures existence,
was rather a communicative disposition in general, pr a dis
position in the fulness of the divinity to flow out and
diffuse itself. Thus the disposition there is in the root and
stock of a tree to diffuse sap and life, is doubtless the
reason of their communication to its buds, leaves, and
fruits, after these exist. But a disposition to communi
cate of its life and sap to its fruits, is not so properly the
cause of its producing those fruits, as its disposition to
diffuse its sap and life in general. Therefore, to speak
strictly according to truth, we may suppose, that a dispo
sition in God, as an original property of his nature, to an
emanation of his own infinite fulness, was what excited him
to create the world ; and so, that the emanation itself was
aimed at by him as a last end of the creation.

SECT. III.
Wherein it is considered how, on the supposition of God's
making the forementioned things his last end, he mani
fests a supreme and ultimate regard to himself in all his
works.In the last section I observed some things which are
actually the consequence of the creation of the world,
which seem absolutely valuable in themselves, and so
worthy to be made God's last end in his work. I now
proceed to inquire, how God's making such things as these
his last end, is consistent with his making himself his last
end, or his manifesting an ultimate respect to himself in
his acts and works. Because it is agreeable to the dictates
of reason, that in all his proceedings he should set himself-
highest ; therefore, I would endeavour to show, how his
infinite love to and delight in himself, will naturally cause
him to value and delight in these things : or rather, how a
value to these things is implied in his value of that infinite
fulness of good that is in himself.
Now, with regard to the first of the particulars mention
ed above — God's regard to the exercise of those attributes
of his nature, in their proper operations and effects, which
consist in a sufficiency for these operations — it is not hard
to conceive that God's regard to himself, and value for his
own perfections, should cause him to value these exercises
and expressions of his perfections ; inasmuch as their ex
cellency consists in their relation to use, exercise, and ope
ration. God's love to himself, and his own attributes, will
therefore make him delight in that which is the use, end,
and operation of these attributes. If one highly esteem
and delight in the virtues of a friend, as wisdom, justice,
&c. that have relation to action, this will make him delight
* I shall often use the phrase God's fulness, as signifying and compre
hending all the good which is in God natural and moral, either excellence
or happiness: partly, because I know of no better phrase'to be used in

in the exercise and genuine effects of these virtues. So if
God both esteem and delight in his own perfections and
virtues, he cannot but value and delight in the expressions
and genuine effects of them. So that in delighting in the
expressions of his perfections, he manifests a delight in him
self; and in making these expressions of his own perfec
tions his end, he makes himself his end.
. And with respect to the second and third particulars,
the matter is no less plain. For he that loves any being,
and has a disposition highly to prize and greatly to de
light in his virtues and perfections, must from the same
disposition be well pleased to have his excellencies known,
acknowledged, esteemed, and prized by others. He that
loves any thing, naturally loves the approbation of that
thing, and is opposite to the disapprobation of it. Thus
it is when one loves the virtues of a friend. And thus it
will necessarily be, if a being loves himself and highly
prizes his own excellencies ; and thus it is fit it should
be, if it be fit he should thus love himself, and prize his
own valuable qualities ; that is, it is fit that he should
take delight in his own excellencies being seen, acknow
ledged, esteemed, and delighted in. This is implied in a
love to himself and his own perfections ; and in making
this his end, he makes himself his end.
And with respect to the fourth and last particular, viz.
God's being disposed to an abundant communication, and
glorious emanation, of that infinite fulness of good which
he possesses, as of his own knowledge, excellency, and
happiness, in the manner he does ; if we thoroughly con
sider the matter, it will appear, that herein also God
makes himself his end, in such a sense, as plainly to
manifest and testify a supreme and ultimate regard to
himself. Merely in this disposition to cause an emanation of his
glory and fulness— which is prior to the existence of any
other being, and is to be considered as the inciting cause
of giving existence to other beings — God cannot so pro
perly be said to make the creature his end, as himself. For
the creature is not as yet considered as existing. This dis
position or desire in God, must be prior to the existence
of the creature, even in foresight. For it is a disposition
that is the original ground even of the future, intended, and.
foreseen existence of the creature. God's benevolence, as
it respects the creature, may be taken either in a larger or
stricter sense. In a larger sense, it may signify nothing
diverse from that good disposition in his nature to commu
nicate of his own fulness in general ; as his knowledge,
his holiness, and happiness ; and to give creatures exist
ence in order to it. This may be called benevolence, or
love, because it is the same good disposition that is exer
cised in love. It is the very fountain from whence love
originally proceeds, when taken in the most, proper sense;
and it has the same general tendency and effect in the crea
ture's well-being. But yet this cannot have any particular
present or future created existence for its object ; because
it is prior to any such object, and the very source of the
futurition of its existence. Nor is it really diverse from
God's love to himself; as will more clearly appear after
wards. But God's love may be taken more strictly, for this
general disposition to communicate good, as directed to
particular objects. ' Love, in the most strict and proper
sense, presupposes the existence of the object beloved, at
least in idea and expectation, and represented to the mind
as future. God did not love angels in the strictest sense,
but in consequence of his intending to create them, and so
having an idea of future existing angels. Therefore his
love to them was not properly what excited him to intend
to create them. Love or benevolence, strictly taken, pre
supposes an existing object, as much as pity a miserable
suffering object.
This propensity in God to diffuse himself, may be con
sidered as a propensity to himself diffused ; or to his own
glory existing in its emanation. A respect to himself, or
an infinite propensity to and delight in his own glory, is
that which causes him to incline to its being abundantly
diffused, and to delight in the emanation of it. Thus, that
this general meaning ; and partly, because I am led hereto by some of
the inspired writers, particularly the apostle Paul, who often useth the
phrase in tins sense.

Sect. III.

HOW GOD REGARDS HIMSELF.

101

nature in a tree, by which it puts forth buds, shoots out
branches, and brings forth leaves and fruit, is a disposition
that terminates in its own complete self. And so the dis
position in the sun to shine, or abundantly to diffuse its
fulness, warmth, and brightness, is only a tendency to its
own most glorious and complete state. So God looks on
the communication of himself, and the emanation of his
infinite glory, to belong to the fulness and completeness of
himself; as though he were not in his most glorious state
without it. Thus the church of Christ, (toward whom
and in whom are the emanations of his glory, and the
communication of his fulness,) is called the fulness of
Christ ; as though he were not in his complete state with
out her; like Adam without Eve. And the church is
called the glory of Christ, as the woman is the glory of the
man, 1 Cor. xi. 7. Isa. xlvi. 13. I will place salvation in
Zion,for Israel my glory.*— Indeed, after the creatures
are intended to be created, God may be conceived of
as being moved by benevolence to them, in the strictest
sense, in his dealings with them. His exercising his good
ness, and gratifying his benevolence to them in particular,
may be the spring of all God's proceedings through the
universe ; as being now the determined way of gratifying
his general inclination to diffuse himself. Here God act
ing for himself, or making himself his last end, and his
acting for their sake, are not to be set in opposition ; they
are rather to be considered as coinciding one with the
other, and implied one in the other. But yet God is to
be considered as first and original in his regard ; and the
creature is the object of God's regard, consequently, and
by implication, as being as it were comprehended in God;
as it shall be more particularly observed presently.
But how God's value for, and delight in, the emanations
of his fulness in the work of creation, argues his delight in
the infinite fulness of good in himself, and the supreme
regard he has for himself; and that in making these
emanations, he ultimately makes himself his end in crea
tion ; will more clearly appear by considering more par
ticularly the nature and circumstances of these communi
cations of God's fulness.
One part of that divine fulness which is communicated,
is the divine knowledge. That communicated knowledge,
which must be supposed to pertain to God's last end in
creating the world, is the creature's knowledge of him. For
this is the end of all other knowledge ; and even the
faculty of. understanding would be vain without it. And
this knowledge is most properly a communication of God's
infinite knowledge, wbich primarily consists in the know
ledge of himself. God, in making this his end, makes
himself his end. This knowledge in the creature, is but a
conformity to God. It is the image of God's own know
ledge of himself. It is a participation of the same ; though
infinitely less in degree : as particular beams of the sun
communicated are the light and glory of the sun itself, in
part. Besides, God's glory is the object of this knowledge, or
the thing known ; so that God is glorified in it, as herebv
his excellency is seen. As therefore God values himself,
as he delights in his own knowledge, he must delight in
every thing of that nature : as he delights in his own light,
he must delight in every beam of that light; and as he
highly values his own excellency, he must be well pleased
in having it manifested, and so glorified.
Another emanation of divine fulness, is the communica
tion of virtue and holiness to the creature : this is a com
munication of God's holiness ; so that hereby the creature
partakes of God's own moral excellency ; which is properly
the beauty of the divine nature. And as God delights in
his own beauty, he must necessarily delight in the creature's
holiness ; which is a conformity to and participation of it,
as truly as a brightness of a jewel, held in the sun's beams,
is a participation or derivation of the sun's brightness,
though immensely less in degree. And then it must be
* Very remarkable is that place, John xii. 23, 24. And Jesus answered
them, saying. The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified.
Verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground, and
die, it abidelh alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. Christ
had respect herein to the blessed fruits of his death, in the conversion,
salvation, and eternal happiness of those that should be redeemed by him.
This consequence of his death, he calls his glory ; and his obtaining this
fruit, he calls his being glorified; as the flourishing, beautiful produce of a

considered wherein this holiness in the creature consists,
viz. in love, which is the comprehension of all true virtue ;
and primarily in love to God, which is exercised in a
high esteem of God, admiration of his perfections, com
placency in them, and praise of them. All which things
are nothing else but the heart exalting, magnifying, or
glorifying God; which, as I showed before, God neces
sarily approves of, and is pleased with, as he loves him
self, and values the glory of his own nature.
Another part of God's fulness which he communicates,
is his happiness. This happiness consists in enjoying and
rejoicing in himself; and so does also the creature's hap
piness. It is a participation of what is in God ; and God
and his glory are the objective ground of it. The happi
ness of the creature consists in rejoicing in God ; by which
also God is magnified and exalted. Joy, or the exulting
of the heart in God's glory, is one thing that belongs to
praise. So that God is all in all, with respect to each part
of that communication of the divine fulness which is made
to the creature, What is communicated is divine, or
something of God ; and each communication is of that
nature, that the creature to whom it is made, is thereby
conformed to God, and united to him : and that in pro
portion as the communication is greater or less. And the
communication itself is no other, in the very nature of it,
than that wherein the very honour, exaltation, and praise
of God consists.
And it is farther to be considered, that what God aimed
at in the creation of the world, as the end which he had
ultimately in view, was that communication of himself
which he intended through all eternity. And if we attend
to the nature and circumstances of this eternal emanation
of divine good, it will more clearly show how, in making
this his end, God testifies a supreme respect to himself, and
makes himself his end. There are many reasons to think
that what God has in view, in an increasing communica
tion of himself through eternity, is an increasing knowledge
of God, love to him, and joy in him. And it is to be con
sidered, that the more those divine communications increase
in the creature, the more it becomes one with God : for so
much the more is it united to God in love, the heart is
drawn nearer and nearer to God, and the union with him
becomes more firm and elose : and, at the same time, the
creature becomes more and more conformed to God. The
image is more and more perfect, and so the good that is
in the creature comes for ever nearer and nearer to an
identity with that which is in God. In the view therefore
of God, who has a comprehensive prospect of the increas
ing union and conformity through eternity, it must be an
infinitelv strict and perfect nearness, conformity, and one
ness. For it will for ever come nearer and nearer to that
strictness and perfection of union which there is between
the Father and the Son. So that in the eyes of God, who
perfectly sees the whole of it, in its infinite progress and
increase, it must come to an eminent fulfilment of Christ's
request, in John xvii. 21, 23. That they all may be one,
as thou Father art in me, and I in thee, that they also may
be one in us ; I in them and thou in me, that they may be
made perfect in one. In this view, those elect creatures,
which must be looked upon as the end of all the rest of
the creation, considered with respect to the uhole of their
eternal duration, and as such made God's end, must be
viewed as being, as it were, one with God. They were
respected as brought hotne to him, united with him, center
ing most perfectly, as it were swallowed up in hirn : so
that his respect to them finally coincides, and becomes one
and the same, with respect to himself. The interest of
the creature is, as it were, God's own interest, in propor
tion to the degree of their relation and union to God.
Thus .the interest of a man's, family is looked upon as the
same with his own interest ; because of the relation they
stand in to him, his propriety in them, and their strict
union with him. But God's elect creatures, with respect
corn of wheat sown in the ground is its glory. Without this he is alone, as
Adam was before Eve was created. But from him, by his death, proceeds
a glorious offspring; in which are communicated his fulness and glory ; As
from Adam, in his deep sleep, proceeds the woman, a beautiful companion
to fill his emptiness, and relieve his solitariness; by Christ's death, his ful
ness is abundantly diffused in many streams ; and expressed in the beauty;
and glory of a great multitude of __ spiritual offspring.

102

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. I.

to their eternal duration, are infinitely dearer to God, than
a man's family is to him. What has been said shows,
that as all things are from. God, as their first cause and
fountain ; so all things tend to him, and in their progress
come nearer and nearer to him through all eternity : wbich
argues, that he who is their first cause is their last end*

SECT. IV.
Some objections considered, which may be made against the
reasonableness of what has been said of God making him
self his last end.
Object. I. Some may object against what has been said
as being inconsistent with God's absolute independence
and immutability : particularly, as though God were in
clined to a communication of his fulness, and emanations
of his own glory, as being his own most glorious and com
plete state. . It may be thought that this does not well
consist with God, being self-existent from all eternity;
absolutely perfect in himself, in the possession of infinite
and independent good. And that, in general, to suppose
that God makes himself his end, in the creation of the
world, seems to suppose that he aims at some interest or
happiness of his own, not easily reconcilable with his
being perfectly and infinitely happy in himself. If it could
be supposed that God needed any thing ; or that the good
ness of his creatures could extend to him ; or that they
could be profitable to him ; it might be fit, that God
should make himself, and his own interest, his highest
and last end in creating the world. But seeing that God
is above all need, and all capacity of being made better or
happier in any respect; to what purpose should God make
himself his end, or seek to advance himself in any respect
by any of his works ? How absurd is it to suppose that
God should do such great things, with a view to obtain
what he is already most perfectly possessed of, and was so
from all eternity ; and therefore cannot now possibly need,
nor with any colour of reason be supposed to seek !
Ans. 1. Many have wrong notions of God's happi
ness, as resulting from his absolute self-sufficience, inde
pendence, and immutability. Though it be true, that God's
: glory and happiness are in and of himself, are infinite and
v cannot be added to, and unchangeable, for the whole and
;, every part of which he is perfectly independent of the
rcreature ; yet it does not hence follow, nor is it true, that
God has no real and proper delight, pleasure, or happiness,
in any of his acts or communications relative to the crea
ture, or effects he produces in them ; or in any thing he
sees in the creature's qualifications, dispositions, actions
and state.
God may have a real and proper pleasure or happiness
in seeing the happy state of the creature ; yet this may not
be different from his delight in himself; being a delight in
his own infinite goodness ; or the exercise of that glorious
propensity of his nature to diffuse and communicate him
self, and so gratifying this inclination of his own heart.
This delight which God has in his creature's happiness,
, cannot properly be said to be what God receives from the '
creature. For it is only the effect of his own work in and
communications to the creature ; in making it, and admit
ting it to a participation of his fulness. As the sun receives
nothing from the jewel that receives its light, and shines
only by a participation of its brightness.
i With respect also to the creature's holiness ; God may
have a proper delight and joy in imparting this to the
creature, as gratifying hereby his inclination to communi
cate of his own excellent fulness. God may delight, with
true and great pleasure, in beholding that beauty which is
an image and communication of his own beauty, an expres
sion and manifestation of his own loveliness. And this is
so far from being an instance of his happiness not being in
and from himself, that it is an evidence that he is happy in
himself, or delights and has pleasure in his own beauty." If
he did not take pleasure in the expression of his own beauty,
it would rather be an evidence that he does not delight in
his own beauty ; that he hath not his happiness and enjoy-
* This remark must be understood with limitation ; as expressing the effect

ment in his own beauty and perfection. So that if we sup
pose God has real pleasure and happiness in the holy love
and praise of his saints, as the image and communication
of his own holiness, it is not properly any pleasure distinct
from the pleasure he has in himself; but it is truly an in
stance of it.
And with respect to God's being glorified in those per
fections wherein his glory consists, expressed in their cor
responding effects, — as his wisdom, in wise designs and
well-contrived works, his power, in great effects, his justice,
in acts of righteousness, his goodness, in communicating
happiness, — this does not argue that his pleasure is not in
himself, and his own glory ; but the contrary. It is the
necessary consequence of his delighting in the glory of his
nature, that he delights in the emanation and effulgence
of it.
Nor do these things argue any dependence in God on the
creature for happiness. Though he has real pleasure in the
creature's holiness and happiness, yet this is not properly
any pleasure which he receives from the creature. For
these things are what he gives the creature. They are
wholly and entirely from, hirm . H|s rejeicinetfierein is
rather a rejoicing in hisjiyvnjfeti, anil nis <_wn*glory ex- s
pressed in those acts, than a joy derived from 'h&^ature.
God's joy is dependent on nothing besides his Wn8^
which he exerts with an absolute and indepenHSu^iowerti*
And yet, in some sense, it can be truly said, that God has
the more delight and pleasure for the holiness and happi
ness of his creatures. Because God would be less happy,
if he were less good : or if he had not that perfection of na
ture which consists in a propensity of nature to diffuse his
own fulness. And he would be less happy, if it were pos
sible for him to be hindered in the exercise of his goodness,
and his other perfections, in their proper effects. But he
has complete happiness, because he has these perfections,
and cannot be hindered in exercising and displaying them
in their proper effects. And this surely is not, because he
is dependent ; but because he is independent on any other
that should hinder him.
From this view, it appears, that nothing which has been
said, is in the least inconsistent with those expressions in
Scripture, that signify, " man cannot be profitable to God,"
&c. For these expressions plainly mean no more, than
that God is absolutely independent of us ; that we have
nothing of our own, no stock from whence we can give to
God ; and that no part of his happiness originates from
man. From what has been said, it appears, that the pleasure
God hath in those things which have been mentioned, is
rather a pleasure in diffusing and communicating to, than
in receiving from, the creature. Surely, it is no argument
of indigence in God, that he is inclined to communicate of
his infinite fulness. It is no argument of the emptiness
or deficiency of a fountain, that it is inclined to overflow.
Nothing from the crenture alters God's happiness, as
though it were changeable either by increase or diminution.
For though these communications of God — these exercises,
operations, and expressions of his glorious perfections,
which God rejoices in — are in time ; yet his joy in them is
without beginning or change. They were always equally
present in the divine mind. He beheld them with equal
clearness, certainty, and fulness, in every respect, as he doth
now. They were always equally present ; as with him
there is no variableness or succession. He ever beheld and
enjoyed them perfectly in his own independent and im
mutable power and will.
Ans. 2. If any are not satisfied with the preceding an
swer, but still insist on the ohjection, let them consider
whether they can devise any other scheme of God's last end
in creating the world, but what will be equally obnoxious
to this objection in its full force, if there be any force in it.
For if God had any last end in creating the world, then
there was something in some respect future, that he aimed
at, and designed to bring to pass by creating the world ;
something that was agreeable to his inclination or will ; let
that be his own glory, or the happiness of his creatures, or
what it will. Now, if there be something that God seeks
as agreeable, or grateful to him, then, in the accomplish-
of benevolent influence, but not the effect of justice on a moral system.— W

Sect. IV.

SOME OBJECTIONS CONSIDERED.

103

ment of it, he is gratified. If the last end which he seeks
in the creation of the world be truly a thing grateful to him,
(as certainly it is, if it be truly his end, and truly the ob
ject of his will,) then it is what he takes a real delight and
pleasure in. But then, according to the argument of the
objection, how can he have any thing future to desire or
seek, who is already perfectly, eternally, and immutably
satisfied in himself : What can remain for him to take
any delight in, or to be further gratified by, whose eternal
and unchangeable delight is in himself, as his own com
plete object of enjoyment. Thus the objector will be press
ed with his own objection, let him embrace what notion
he will of God's end in the creation. And I think he has
no way left to answer but that which has been taken
above. It may therefore be proper here to observe, that let what
will be God's last end, that he must have a real and
proper pleasure in. Whatever be the proper object of his
will, he is gratified in. And the thing is either grateful to
him in itself, or for something else for which he wills it ;
and so is his further end. But whatever is God's last end,
that he wills for its own sake; as grateful to him in itself,
or in which he has some degree of true and proper pleasure.
Otherwise we must deny any such thing as will in God
with respect to any thing brought to pass in time ; and so
must deny his work of creation, or any work of his provi
dence, to be truly voluntary. But we have as much reason
to suppose, that God's works in creating and governing the
world, are properly the fruits of his will, as of his under
standing. And if there be any such thing at all, as what
we mean by acts of will in God ; then he is not indiffer
ent Whether his will be fulfilled or not. And if he is not
indifferent, then he is truly gratified and pleased in the
fulfilment of his will. And if he has a real pleasure in at
taining his end, then the attainment of it belongs to his
happiness; that in which God's delight or pleasure in
any measure consists. To suppose that God has pleasure
in things that are brought to pass in time, only figuratively
and metaphorically ; is to suppose that he exercises will
about these things, and makes them his end only meta
phorically. Ans. 3. The doctrine that makes God's creatures and
not himself to be his last end, is a doctrine the furthest
from having a favourable aspect on God's absolute self-
sufficience and independence. It far less agrees therewith
than the doctrine against which this is objected. For we
must conceive of the efficient as depending on his ultimate
end. He depends on this end, in his desires, aims, actions,
and pursuits ; so that he fails in all his desires, actions, and
Eursuits, if he fails of his end. Now if God himself be
is last end, then in his dependence on his end, he depends
on nothing but himself. If all things be of him, and to
him, and he the first and the last, this shows him to be all
in all. He is all to himself. He goes not out of himself
in what he seeks ; but his desires and pursuits as they
originate from, so they terminate in, himself; and he is de
pendent on none but himself in the beginning or end of
any of his exercises or operations. But if not himself, but
the creature, were his last end, then as he depends on his
last end, he would be in some sort dependent on the
creature. Object. II. Some may object, that to suppose God
makes himself his highest and last end, is dishonourable
to him ; as it in effect supposes, that God does every thing
from a selfish spirit. Selfishness is looked upon as mean
and sordid in the creature ; unbecoming and even hateful
in such a worm of the dust as man. We should look
upon a man as of a base and contemptible character, who
should in every thing he did, be governed by selfish prin
ciples ; should make his private interest his governing aim
in all his conduct in life. How far then should we be
from attributing any such thing to the Supreme Being, the
blessed and only Potentate ! Does it not become us to
ascribe to him the most noble and generous dispositions,
and qualities the most remote from every thing private,
narrow, and sord id ?
Ans. 1. Such an objection must arise from a very ig
norant or inconsiderate notion of the vice of selfishness,
and the virtue of generosity.*) If by selfishness be meant,
a disposition in any being "to regard himself; this is no

otherwise vicious or unbecoming, than as one is less than a
multitude ; and so the public weal is of greater value than
his particular interest. Among created beings one single
person is inconsiderable in comparison of the generality ; and
so his interest is of little importance compared with the
interest of the whole system. Therefore in them, a dispo
sition to prefer self, as if it were more than all, is exceed
ing vicious. But it is vicious on no other account, than as
it is a disposition that does not agree with the nature of
things ; and that which is indeed the greatest good. And
a disposition in any one to forego his own interest for the
sake of others, is no further excellent, no further worthy
the name of generosity, than it is treating things according
to their true value ; prosecuting something most worthy to
be prosecuted ; an expression of a disposition to prefer
something to self-interest, that is indeed preferable in itself.
But if God be indeed so great, and so excellent, that all
other beings are as nothing to him, and all other excellency
be as nothing, and less than nothing and vanity, in com
parison of his ; and God be omniscient and infallible, and
perfectly knows that he is infinitely the most valuable
being ; then it is fit that his heart should be agreeable to
this — which is indeed the true nature and proportion of
things, and agreeable to this infallible and all-comprehend
ing understanding which he has of them, and that perfectly
clear light in which he views them— and that he should
value himself infinitely more than his creatures.
Ans. 2. In created beings, a regard to self-interest may
properly be set in opposition to the public welfare ; be
cause the private interest of one person may be inconsist
ent with the public good ; at least it may be so in the ap
prehension of that person. That which this person looks
upon as his interest, may interfere with or oppose the
general good. Hence his private interest may be regarded
and pursued in opposition to the public. But this cannot
be with respect to the Supreme Being, the author and head
of the whole system ; on whom all absolutely depend ;
who is the fountain of being and good to the whole. It is
more absurd to suppose that his interest should be oppo
site to the interest of the universal system, than that the
welfare of the head, heart, and vitals of the natural body,
should be opposite to the welfare of the body. And it is
impossible that God, who is omniscient, should apprehend
his interest, as being inconsistent with the good and in
terest of the whole.
Ans. 3. God seeking himself in the creation of the world,
in the manner which has been supposed, is so far from
being inconsistent with the good of his creatures, that it is
a kind of regard to himself that inclines him to seek the
good of his creature. It is a regard to himself that dis
poses him to diffuse and communicate himself. It is such
a delight in his own internal fulness and glory, that dis
poses him to an abundant effusion and emanation of that
glory. The same disposition, that inclines him to delight
in his glory, causes him to delight in the exhibitions, ex
pressions, and communications of it. If there were any
person of such a taste and disposition of mind, that the
brightness and light of the sun seemed unlovely to him, he
would be willing that the sun's brightness and light should
be retained within itself. But they that delight in it, to
whom it appears lovely and glorious, will esteem it an
amiable and glorious thing to have it diffused and com
municated through the world.
Here, by the way, it may be properly considered,
whether some writers are not chargeable with inconsistence
in this respect. They speak against the doctrine of Gon
making himself his own highest and last end, as though
this were an ignoble selfishness — when indeed he only is
fit to be made the highest end, by himself and all other
beings ; inasmuch as he is infinitely greater and more
worthy than all others — yet with regard to creatures, who
are infinitely less worthy of supreme and ultimate regard,
they suppose, that they necessarily, at all times, seek their
own happiness, and make it their ultimate end in all, even
their most virtuous actions ; and that this principle, regu
lated by wisdom and prudence, as leading to that which
is their true and highest happiness, is the foundation of all
virtue, and every thing that is morally good and excellent
in them.
Object. III. To what has been supposed, that God

104

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. I.

makes himself his end— in seeking that his glory and ex
cellent perfections should be known, esteemed, loved, and
delighted in by his creatures— it may be objected, that this
seems unworthv of God. It is considered as below a truly
great man, to be much influenced in his conduct by a
desire of popular applause. The notice and admiration of
a gazing multitude, would be esteemed but a low end, to
be aimed at by a prince or philosopher, in any great and
noble enterprise. How much more is it unworthy the
great God, to perform his magnificent works, e. g. the
creation of the vast universe, out of regard to the notice
and admiration of worms of the dust, that the displays of
his magnificence may be gazed at, and applauded by
those who are infinitely more beneath him, than the
meanest rabble are beneath the greatest prince or philo
sopher. This objection is specious. It hath a show of argument ;
but it will appear to be nothing but a show, if we consider,
1. Whether it be not worthy of God, to regard and
value what is excellent and valuable in itself; and so to
take pleasure in its existence.
It seems not liable to any doubt, that there could be no
future existence worthy to be desired or sought by God,
and so worthy to be made his end, if no future existence
was valuable and worthy to be brought to effect. If, when
the world was not, there was any possible future thing fit
and valuable in itself, I think the knowledge of God's
glory, and the esteem and love of it, must be so. Under
standing and will are the highest kind of created existence.
And if they be valuable, it must be in their exercise. But
the highest' and most excellent kind of their exercise, is in
some actual knowledge, and exercise of will. And, cer
tainly, the most excellent actual knowledge and will that
can be in the creature, is the knowledge and the love of
God. And the most true excellent knowledge of God, is
the knowledge of his glory or moral excellence ; and the
most excellent exercise of the will consists in esteem and
love, and a delight in his glory. — If any created existence
is in itself worthy to be, or any thing that ever was future
is worthy of existence, such a communication of divine
fulness, such an emanation and expression of the divine
glory, is worthy of existence. But if nothing that ever
was future was worthy to exist, then no future thing was
worthv to be aimed at by God in creating the world. And
if nothing was worthy to be aimed at in creation, then
nothing was worthy to be God's end in creation.
If God's own excellency and glory is worthy to be
highly valued and delighted in by him, then the value
and esteem hereof by others, is worthy to be regarded by
him : for this is a necessary consequence. To make this
plain let it be considered, how it is with regard to the
excellent qualities of another. If we highly value the
virtues and excellencies of a. friend, in proportion, we
shall approve of others' esteem of them ; and shall disap
prove the contempt of them. If these virtues are truly
valuable, they are worthy that we should thus approve
others' esteem, and disapprove their contempt of them.
And the case is the same with respect to any being's own
qualities or attributes. If he highly esteems them, and
greatly delights in them, he will naturally and necessarily
love to see esteem of them in others, and dislike their dis-
esteem. And if the attributes are worthy to be highly
esteemed by the being who hath them, so is the esteem of
them in others worthy to be proportionably approved and
regarded. I desire it may be considered, whether it be
unfit that God should be displeased with contempt of
himself? If not, but on the contrary it be fit and suitable
that he should be displeased with this, there is the same
reason that he should be pleased with the proper love,
esteem, and honour of himself.
The matter may be also cleared, by considering what it
would become us to approve of and value with respect to
any public society we belong to, e. g. our nation or coun
try. It becomes us to love our country ; and therefore it
becomes us to value the just honour of our country. But
the same that it becomes us to value and desire for a
friend, and the same that it becomes us to desire and seek
for the community, the same does it become God to value
and seek for himself; that is, on supposition, that it be
comes God to love himself as it does men to love a

friend or the public ; which I think has been before
proved. Here are two things that ought particularly to be ad
verted to. (1.) That in God, the love of himself and the
love of the public are not to be distinguished, as in man :
because God's being, as it were, comprehends all. His
existence, being infinite, must be equivalent to universal
existence. And for the same reason that public affection
in the creature is fit and beautiful, God's regard to him
self must be so likewise.— (2.) In God, the love of what is
fit and decent, cannot be a distinct thing from the love of
himself; because the love of God is that wherein all holi
ness primarily and chiefly consists, and God's own holi
ness must primarily consist in the love of himself. And
if God's holiness consists in love to himself, then it will
imply an approbation of the esteem and love of him in
others. For a being that loves himself, necessarily loves
love to himself. If holiness in God consist chiefly in
love to himself, holiness in the creature must chiefly con
sist in love to him. And if God loves holiness in himself,
he must love it in the creature.
Virtue, by such of the late philosophers as seem to be
in chief repute, is placed in public affection, or general
benevolence. And if the essence of virtue lies primarily
in this, then the love of virtue itself is virtuous no other
wise, than as it is implied in, or arises from, this public
affection, or extensive benevolence of mind. Because if a
man truly loves the public, he necessarily loves love to the
public. Now therefore, for the same reason, if universal benevo
lence in tbe highest sense, be the same thing with benevo
lence to the Divine Being, who is in effect universal Being,
it will follow, that love to virtue itself is no otherwise vir
tuous, than as it is implied in, or arises from, love to the
Divine Being. Consequently, God's own love to virtue is
implied in love to himself: and is virtuous no otherwise
than as it arises from love to himself. So that God's vir
tuous disposition, appearing in love to holiness in the
creature, is to be resolved into the same thing with love to
himself. And consequently, whereinsoever he makes vir
tue his end, he makes himself his end. In fine, God being
as it were an all-comprehending Being, all his moral per
fections — his holiness, justice, grace, and benevolence —
are some way or other to be resolved into a supreme and
infinite regard to himself; and if so, it will be easy to
suppose that it becomes him to make himself his supreme
and last end in his works.
I would here observe, by the wav, that if any insist that
it becomes God to love and take delight in the virtue of his
creatures for its own sake, in such a manner as not to love
it from regard to himself; this will contradict a former ob
jection against God taking pleasure in communications of
himself; viz. that inasmuch as God is perfectly independ
ent and self-sufficient, therefore all his happiness and plea
sure consists in the enjoyment of himself. So that if the
same persons make both objections, they must be incon
sistent with themselves.
2. I would observe, that it is not unworthy of God to
take pleasure in that which is in itself fit and amiable,
even in those that are infinitely below him. If there be
infinite grace and condescension in it, yet these are not un
worthy of God ; but infinitely to his honour and glory.
They who insist, that God's own glory was not an ulti
mate end of his creation of the world ; but the happiness
of his creatures ; do it under a colour of exalting God's
benevolence to his creatures. But if his love to them be
so great, and he so highly values them as to look upon
them worthy to be his end in all his great works, as they
suppose ; they are not consistent with themselves, m sup
posing that God has so little value for their love and
esteem. For as the nature of love, especially great love,
causes him that loves to value the esteem of the person
beloved ; so, that God should take pleasure in the crea
ture's just love and esteem, will follow from God's love
both to himself and to his creatures. If he esteem and
love himself, he must approve of esteem and love to him
self, and disapprove the contrary. And if he loves and
values the creature, he must value and take delight in their
mutual love and esteem.
3 As to what is alleged, that it is unworthy of great

Sect. IV.

SOME OBJECTIONS CONSIDERED.

105

men to be governed in their conduct and achievements by
a regard to the applause of the populace ; I would observe,
What makes their applause worthy of so little regard, is
their ignorance, giddiness, and injustice. The applause of
the multitude very frequently is not founded on any just
view of things, but on humour, mistake, folly, and un
reasonable affections. Such applause deserves to be dis
regarded. — But it is not beneath a man of the greatest
dignity and wisdom, to value the wise and just esteem of
others, however inferior to him. The contrary, instead of
being an expression of greatness of mind, would show a
haughty and mean spirit. It is such an esteem in his crea
tures, that God regards ; for, such an esteem only is fit and
amiable in itself.
Object. IV. To suppose that God makes himself his
ultimate end in the creation of the world, derogates from
the freeness of his goodness, in his beneficence to his crea
tures ; and from their obligations to gratitude for the good
communicated. For if God, in communicating his ful
ness, makes himself, and not the creatures, his end ; then
what good he' does, he does for himself, and not for them ;
for his sake, and not theirs.
Answer. God and the creature, in the emanation of the
divine fulness, are not properly set in opposition ; or made
the opposite parts. of a disjunction. Nor ought God's
glory and the creature's good, to be viewed as if they were
properly and entirely distinct, in the objection. This sup
posed!, that God having respect to his glory, and the com
munication of good to his creatures, are things altogether
different : that God communicating his fulness for himself,
and his doing it for them, are things standing in a prooer
disjunction and opposition. Whereas, if we were capable
of more perfect views of God and divine things, which are
so much above us, it probably would appear very clear,
that the matter is quite otherwise : and that these things,
instead of appearing entirely distinct, are implied one in
the other. God in seeking his glory, seeks the good of his
creatures ; because the emanation of his glory (which he
seeks and delights in, as he delights in himself and his
own eternal glory) implies the communicated excellency
and happiness of his creatures. And in communicating
his fulness for them, he does it for himself; because their
good, which he seeks, is so much in union and communion
with himself. God is their good. Their excellency and
happiness is nothing, but the emanation and expression of
God's glory : God, in seeking their glory and happiness,
seeks himself: and in seeking himself, i. e. himself dif
fused and expressed, (which he delights in, as he delights
in his own beauty and fulness,) he seeks their glory and
happiness. . This will the better appear, if we consider the degree
and manner in which he aimed at the creature's excellency
and happiness in creating the world ; viz. during the whole
of its designed eternal duration ; in greater and greater
nearness, and strictness of union with himself, in his own
glory and happiness, in constant progression, through all
eternity. As the creature's good was viewed, when God
made the world, with respect to its whole duration, and
eternally progressive union to, and communion with him :
so the creature must be viewed as in infinitely strict union
with himself. In this view it appears, that God's respect
to the creature, in the whole, unites with his respect to
himself. Both regards are like two lines which at the be
ginning appear separate, but finally meet in one, both
being directed to the same centre. And as to the good of
the creature itself, in its whole duration and infinite pro
gression, it must be viewed as infinite ; and as coming
nearer and nearer to the same thing in its infinite fulness.
The nearer any thing comes to infinite, the nearer it comes
to an identity with God. And if any good, as viewed by
God, is beheld as infinite, it cannot be viewed as a dis
tinct thing from God's own infinite glory.
The apostle's discourse of the great love of Christ to
men, (Eph. v. 25, &c.) leads us thus to think of the love
of Christ to his church; as coinciding with his love to
himself, by virtue of the strict union of the church with
him. " Husbands, love your wives, as Christ also loved the
church, and gave himself for it — that he might present it to
himself a glorious church. So ought men to love their
wives, as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth

himself— even as the Lord the church ; for we are members
of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones." Now I appre
hend, that ihere is nothing in God's disposition to com
municate of his own fulness to the creatures, that at all
derogates from the excellence of it, or the creature's obli
gation. God's disposition to cause his own infinite fulness to
flow forth, is pot the less properly called his goodness, be
cause the good he communicates is what he delights in,
as he delights in his own glory. The creature has no less
benefit by it ; neither has such a disposition less of a direct
tendency to the creature's benefit. Nor is this disposition
in God, to diffuse his own good, the less excellent, because
it is implied in his love to himself. For his love to him
self does not imply it any otherwise, but as it implies a
love to whatever is worthy and excellent. The emanation
of God's glory is in itself worthy and excellent, and so
God delights in it ; and this delight is implied in his love
to his own fulness ; because that is the fountain, the sum
and comprehension of every thing that is excellent. Nor
does God's inclination to communicate good from regard
to himself, or delight in his own glory, at all diminish the
freeness of his beneficence. This will appear, if we con
sider particularly, in what ways doing good to others from
self-love, may be inconsistent with the freeness of benefi
cence. And I conceive there are only these two ways,
1. When any does good to another from confined self-
love, which is opposite to a general benevolence. This kind
of self-love is properly called selfishness. In some sense,
the most benevolent, generous person in the world, seeks
his own happiness in doing good to others ; because he
filaces his happiness in their good. His mind is so en-
arged as to take them, as it were, into himself. Thus
when they are happy, he feels it ; he partakes with them,
and is happy in their happiness. This is so far from being
inconsistent with the freeness of beneficence, that, on the
contrary, free benevolence and kindness consists in it. The
most free beneficence that can be in men, is doing good,
not from a confined selfishness, but from a disposition to
general benevolence, or love to being in general.
But now, with respect to the Divine Being, there is no
such thing as confined selfishness in him, or a love to
himself opposite to general benevolence. It is impossible,
because he comprehends all entity, and all excellence, in
his own essence. The eternal and infinite Being, is in
effect, being in general; and comprehends universal exist
ence. God, in his benevolence to his creatures, cannot
have his heart enlarged, in such a manner as to take in
beings who are originally out of himself, distinct and in
dependent. This cannot be in an infinite Being, who
exists alone from eternity. But he, from his goodness, as
it were enlarges himself in a more excellent and divine
manner. This is bv communicating and diffusing himself ;
and so, instead of find ing, he makes objects of his benevo
lence — not by taking what he finds distinct from himself,
and so partaking of their good, and being happy in them,
but — by flowing forth, and expressing himself in them,
and making them to partake of him, and then rejoicing in
himself expressed in them, and communicated to them.
2. Another thing, in doing good to others from self-love,
that derogates from the freeness of the goodness, is acting
from dependence on them for the good we need or desire.
So that, in our beneficence, we are not self-moved, but
as it were constrained by something without ourselves.
But it has been particularly shown already, that God
making himself his end, argues no dependence ; but is
consistent with absolute independence and self-sufficiency.
And 1 would here observe, that there is somethiug in
that disposition to communicate goodness, that shows God
to be independent and self-moved in it, in a manner that
is peculiar, and above the beneficence of creatures.
Creatures, even the most excellent, are not independent and
self-moved in their goodness ; but in all its exercises, they
are excited by some object they find : something appear
ing good, or in some respect worthy of regard, presents
itself, and moves their kindness. But God, being all, and
alone, is absolutely self-moved. The exercises of his
communicative disposition are absolutelv from within him
self ; all that is good and worthy in the object, and its
very being, proceeding from the overflowing of his fulness.

106

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II.

These things show that the supposition of God making
himself his ultimate end, does not at all diminish the crea
ture's obligation to gratitude for communications of good
received. For if it lessen its obligation, it must be on one of
the following accounts. Either, that the creature has not
so much benefit by it ; or, that the disposition it flows
from, is not proper goodness, not having so direct a ten
dency to the creature's benefit ; or, that the disposition is
not so virtuous and excellent in its kind ; or, that the be
neficence is not so free. But it has been observed, that
none of these things take place, with regard to that dis
position, which has been supposed to have excited God
to create the world.
I confess there is a degree of indistinctness and obscurity
in the close consideration of such subjects, and a great
imperfection in the expressions we use concerning them ;
arising unavoidably from the infinite sublimity of the sub
ject, and the incomprehensibleness of those things that are
divine. Hence revelation is the surest guide in these
matters : and what that teaches shall in the next place be
considered. Nevertheless, the endeavours used to dis
cover what the voice of reason is, so far as it can go, may
serve to prepare the way, by obviating cavils insisted on
by many ; and to satisfy us, that what the word of God
says of the matter is not unreasonable.

CHAP. II.
WHEREIN IT IS INQUIRED. WHAT IS TO HE LEARNED FROM
HOLY SCRIPTURES, CONCERNING GOD'S LAST END IN THE
CREATION OP THE WORLD. Sect. I.
The Scriptures represent God as making himself his own
last end in the creation of the world.
It is manifest, that the Scriptures speak, on all occasions,
as though God made himself his end in all his works ;
and as though the same being, who is the first cause of all
things, were the supreme and last end of all things.
Thus in Isa. xliv. 6. " Thus saith the Lord, the king of
Israel, and his Redeemer the Lord of hosts, I am the first,
I also am the last, and besides me there is no God." Chap.
xlviii. 12. " I am the first and I am the last." Rev. i. 8. " I
am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith
the Lord, which is, and was, and which is to come, the
Almighty." Ver. 1 1 . " I am Alpha and Omega, the first and
the last." Ver. 17. " I am the first and the last." Chap. xxi.
6. " And he said unto me, it is done ; I am Alpha and
Omega, the beginning and the end." Chap. xxii. 13. " I am
Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and
the last."
When God is so often spoken of as the last as well as
the first, the end as well as the beginning, it is implied,
that as he is the first, efficient cause and fountain, from
whence all things originate ; so, he is the last, final cause
for which they are made ; the final term to which they all
tend in their ultimate issue. This seems to be the most
natural import of these expressions ; and is confirmed by
other parallel passages ; as Rom. xi. 36. " For of him, and
through him, and to him, are all things." Col. i. 16. " For
by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and
that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be
thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers ; all
things were created by him, and for him." Heb. ii. 10.
" For it became him, by whom are all things, and for
whom are all things." And in Prov. xvi. 4. it is said ex
pressly, " The Lord hath made all things for himself."
And the manner is observable, in which God is said to
be the last, to whom, and for whom, are all things. It is"
evidently spoken of as a meet and suitable thing, a branch
of his glory ; a meet prerogative of the great, infinite, and
eternal Being ; a thing becoming the dignity of him who
is infinitely above all other beings ; from whom all things
are, and by whom they consist; and in comparison with
whom all other things are as nothing.

SECT. II.

Wherein some positions are advanced concerning a just
method of arguing in this affair, from what we find in
the Holy Scriptures.
We have seen, that the Scriptures speak of the creation
of the world as being for God, as its end. What remains
therefore to be inquired into, is, which way do the Scrip
tures represent God as making himself his end? It is
evident, that God does not make his existence or being the
end of the creation ; which cannot be supposed without
great absurdity. His existence cannot be conceived of but
as prior to any of God's designs. Therefore he cannot
create the world to the end that he may have existence ;
or may have certain attributes and perfections. Nor do
the Scriptures give the least intimation of any such thing.
Therefore, what divine effect, or what in relation to God, is
that which the Scripture teacheth us to be the end he
aimed at, in his works of creation, and in designing which
he makes himself his end ?
In order to a right understanding of the Scripture doc
trine, and drawing just inferences from what we find said
in the word of God, relative to this matter ; and so to
open the way to a true and definite answer to the above
inquiry, I would lay down the following positions.
Position 1 . That which appears to be God's ultimate
end in his works of providence in general, we may justly
suppose to be his last end in the work of creation. This
appears from what was observed before, under the fifth
particular of the introduction, which I need not now
repeat. Pos. 2. When any thing appears, by the Scripture, to
be the last end of some of the works of God, that thing
appears to be the result of God's works in general. And
although it be not mentioned as the end of those works,
but only of some of them ; yet as nothing appears peculiar
in the nature of the case, that renders it a fit, beautiful,
and valuable result of those particular works, more than
of the rest ; we may justly infer that thing to be the last
end of those other works also. For we must suppose it
to be on account of the value of the effect, that it is made
the end of those works of which it is expressly spoken as
the end ; and this effect, by the supposition, being equally,
and in like manner, the result of the work, and of the
same value, it is but reasonable to suppose, that it is the
end of the work, of which it is naturally the consequence,
in one case as well as in another.
Pos. 3. The ultimate end of God in creating the world
being also the last end of all his works of providence, we
may well presume that, if there be any particular thing,
more frequently mentioned in Scripture, as God's ultimate
aim in his works of providence, than any thing else, this is
the ultimate end of God's works in general, and so the
end of the work of creation.
Pos. 4. That which appears*, from the word of God, to
be his ultimate end with respect to the moral world, or
the intelligent part of the system, that is God's last end in
the work of creation in general. Because it is evident,
from the constitution of the world itself, as well as from
the word of God, that themoral part is the end of all the
rest of the creation. The inanimate, unintelligent part, is
made for the rational, as much as a house is prepared for
the inhabitant. And it is evident also from reason and the
word of God, that it is for the sake of some moral good in
them, that moral agents are made, and the world made
for them. But it is further evident, that whatsoever is the
last end of that part of creation, which is the end of all
the rest, and for which all the rest of the world was made,
must be the last end of the whole. If all the other parts
of a watch are made for the hand of the watch, in order to
move that aright, then it will follow, that the last end of
the hand is the last end of the whole machine.
Pus. 5. That which appears from the Scripture to be
God's ultimate end in the chief works of his providence,
we may well determine is God's last end in creating the
world. For, as observed, we may justlv infer the end of
a thing from the use of it. We must justly infer the end
of a clock, a chariot, a ship, or water-engine, from the
main use to which it is applied. But God's providence is

Sect. II.

PARTICULAR TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE*.

• 107

his use of the world he has made. And if there be any
works of providence which are evidently God's main
works, herein appears and consists the main use that God
makes of the creation. — From these two last positions we
may infer the next, viz.
Pos. 6. Whatever appears, by the Scriptures, to be God's
ultimate end in his mam works of Providence towards the
moral world, that we may justly infer to be the last end of
the creation of the world. Because, as was just now ob
served, the moral world is the chief part of the creation,
and the end of the rest; and God's'last end in creating that
part of the world, must be his last end in the creation of
the whole. And it appears, by the last position, that the
end of God's main works of Providence towards moral
beings, or the main use to which he puts them, shews the
last end for which he has made them ; and consequently the
main end for which he has made the whole world.
. Pos. 7. That which divine revelation shows to be God's
ultimate end with respect to that part of the moral world
which are good, in their being, and in their being good, this
we must suppose to be the last end of God's creating the
world. For it has been already shown, that God's last
end in the moral part of creation must be the end of the
whole. But his end in that part of the moral world that
are good, must be the last end for which he has made the
moral world in general. For therein consists the goodness
of a thing, its fitness to answer its end ; at least this must
be goodness in the eyes of its author. For goodness in
his eyes, is its agreeableness to his mind. But an agree
ableness to his mind, in what he makes for some end or
use, must be an agreeableness or fitness to that end. For
his end in this case is his mind. That which he chiefly
aims at in that thing, is chiefly his mind with respect to
that thing. And therefore, they are good moral agents who
are fitted for the end for which God has made moral agents.
And consequently, that which is the chief end to which
good created moral agents, in being good, are fitted, this is
the chief end of the moral part of the creation; and con
sequently of the creation in general.
Pos. 8. That which the word of God requires the intel
ligent and moral part of the world to seek, as their ultimate
and highest end, that we have reason to suppose is the last
end for which God has made them ; and consequently, by
position fourth, the last end for which he has made the
whole world. A main difference between tbe intelligent
and moral parts, and the rest of the world, lies in this, that
the former are capable of knowing their Creator, and the
end for which he made them; and capable of actively com
plying with his design in their creation, and promoting it ;
while other creatures cannot promote the design of their
creation, only passively and eventually. And seeing they
are capable of knowing the end for which their author has
made them, it is doubtless their duty to fell in with it.
Their wills ought to comply with the will of the Creator in
this respect, in mainly seeking the same, as their last end,
which God mainly seeks as their last end. This must be
the law of nature and reason with respect to them. And
we must suppose that God's revealed law, and the law of
nature, agree ; and that his will, as a lawgiver, must agree
with his will as a Creator. Therefore we justly infer, that
the same thing which God's revealed law requires intelli
gent creatures to seek, as their last and greatest end, that
God their Creator had made their last end, and so the end
of the creation of the world.
Pos. 9. We may well suppose, that what is in Holy
Scripture, stated as the main end of the goodness of the
moral world — so that the respect and relation their good
ness has to that end, is what chiefly makes it valuable and
desirable — is God's ultimate end in the creation of the
moral world ; and so, by position the fourth, of the whole
world. For the end of the goodness of a thing, is the end of
the thing.
Pos. 10. That which persons who are described in
Scripture as approved saints, and set forth as examples of
piety, sought as their last and highest end, in the instances
of their good and approved behaviour; that, we must sup
pose, was what they ought to seek as their last end : and
consequently by the preceding position, was the same with
God's last end in the creation of the world.
Pos. 11. What appears by the word of God to be that

end, in the desires of which the souls of the best, and in
their best frames, most naturally and directly exercise their
goodness, and in expressing their desire of this end, they do
most properly and directly express their respect to God ;
we may well suppose that end to be the chief and ultimate
end of a spirit of piety and goodness, and God's chief end
in making the moral world, and so the whole world. For,
doubtless, the most direct tendency of a spirit of true
goodness, in the best part of the moral world, is to the chief
end of goodness, and so the chief end of the creation of the
moral world. And in what else can the spirit of the true
respect and friendship to God be expressed by way of
desire, than in desires of the same end which God himself
chiefly and ultimately desires in making them and alt other
things. Pos. 12. Since the Holy Scriptures teach us that Jesus
Christ is the Head of the moral world, and especially of
all the good part of it; the chief of God's servants, appoint
ed to be the Head of his saints and angels, and set forth as
the chief and most perfect pattern and example of good
ness ; we may well suppose, by the foregoing positions,
that what he sought as his last end, was God's last end in
the creation of the world.

SECT. III.
Particular texts of Scripture, that show that God's glory
is an ultimate end of the creation.
1. What God says in his word, naturally leads us to
suppose, that the way in which he makes himself his end
in his work or works, which he does for his own sake, is in
making his glory his end.
Thus Isa. xlviii. 11. " For my own sake, even for my
own sake, will 1 do it. For how should my name be pol
luted ; and I will not give my glory to another." Which is
as much as to say, I will obtain my end ; I will not fore
go my glory ; another shall not take this prize from me.
It is pretty evident here, that God's name and his glory,
which seem to intend the same thing, as shall be observed
more particularly afterwards, are spoken of as his last end
in the great work mentioned ; not as an inferior, subordi
nate end, subservient to the interest of others. The words
are emphatical. The emphasis and repetition constrain us
to understand, that what God does is ultimately for his
own sake : " For my own sake, even for my own sake will I
do it."
So the words of the apostle, in Rom. xi. 36. naturally
lead us to suppose, that the way in which all things are to
God, is in being for his glory. " For of him, and through
him, and to him are all things, to whom be glory for ever
and ever. Amen." In the preceding context, the apostle
observes the marvellous disposals of divine wisdom, for
causing all things to be to him, in their final issue and re
sult, as they are from him at first, and governed by him.
His discourse shows how God contrived this and brought
it to pass, by setting up the kingdom of Christ in the world ;
leaving the Jews, and calling the Gentiles ; including
what he would hereafter do in bringing in the Jews, with
the fulness of the Gentiles ; with the circumstances of
these wonderful works, so as greatly to show his justice
and his goodness, to magnify his grace, and manifest the
sovereignty and freeness of it, and the absolute depend
ence of all on him. And then, in the four last verses, he
breaks out into a most pathetic exclamation, expressing his
great admiration of the depth of divine wisdom, in the
steps he takes for attaining his end, and causing all things
to be to him : and finally, he expresses a joyful consent to
God's excellent design in all to glorify himself, in saying,
" to him be glory for ever ;" as much as to say, as all
things are so wonderfully ordered for his glory, so let him
have Ihe glory of all, for evermore.
2. The glory of God is spoken of in Holy Scripture as
the last end for which those parts of the moral world that
are good were made.
Thus in Isa. xliii. 6, 7. " I will say to the north, Give up,
and to the south, Keep not back ; bring my sons from afar,
and my daughters from the ends of the earth, even every
one that is called by my name ; for I have created him for

108

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II.

my glory, I have formed him, yea I have made him."
Again, Isa. Ix. 21. " Thy people also shall be all righteous.
They shall inherit the land for ever, the branch of my plant
ing, the work of my hand, that I may be glorified." Also
chap. lxi. 3. " That they may be called trees of righteous
ness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified."
In these places we see, that the glory of God is spoken
of as the end of God's saints, the end for which he makes
them, i. e. either gives them being, or gives them a being as
saints, or both. It is said, that God has made and formed
them to be his sons and daughters, for his own glory :
That they are trees of his planting, the work of his hands,
as trees of righteousness, that he might be glorified. And
if we consider the words, especially as taken with the con
text in each of the places, it will appear quite natural to
suppose, that God's glory is here spoken of only as an end
inferior and subordinate to the happiness of God's people.
On the contrary, they will appear rather as promises of
making God's people happy, that God therein might be
glorified. So is that in Isa. xliii. as we shall see plainly, if we take
the whole that is said from the beginning of the chapter,
ver. 1 — 7. It is wholly a promise of a future, great, and
wonderful work of God's power and grace, delivering his
people from all misery, and making them exceeding happy ;
and then the end of all, or the sum of God's design in all,
is declared to be God's own glory. " I have redeemed
thee, I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine. — I
will be with thee. — When thou walkest through the fire,
thou shalt not be burnt, neither shall the flame kindle upon
thee. — Thou art precious and honourable in my sight. I
will give men for thee, and people for thy life. Fear not,
I am with thee. — I will bring my sons from far, and my
daughters from the ends of the earth ; every one that is
called by my name : for I have created him for my glory."
So Isa. Ix. 21. The whole chapter is made up of no
thing but promises of future, exceeding happiness to God's
church ; but, for brevity's sake, let us take only the two
preceding verses 19, 20. " The sun shall be no more thy
light by day, neither for brightness shall the moon give
light unto thee : but the Lord shall be unto thee an ever
lasting light, and thy God thy glory. Thy sun shall no
more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself; for
the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the davs of
thy -mouming shall be ended. Thy people also shall be
all righteous ; they shall inherit the land for ever, the
branch of my planting, the work of my hands ;" and then
the end of all is added, " that I might be glorified." All
the preceding promises are plainly mentioned as so many
parts, or constituents, of the great and exceeding happiness
of God's people ; and God's glory is mentioned, as the
sum of his design in this happiness.
In like manner is the promise in chap. lxi. 3. " To ap
point unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them
beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mouming, the garment of
praise for the spirit of heaviness, that they mighi be called
trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he
might be glorified." The work of God promised to be
effecled, is plainly an accomplishment of the jov, gladness,
and happiness of God's people, instead of their mourning
and sorrow ; and the end in which God's design in this
work is obtained and summed up, is his glory. This
proves, by the seventh position, that God's glory is the end
of the creation.
The same thing may be argued from Jer. xiii. 11. " For
as a girdle cleaveth to the loins of a man, so have I caused
to cleave unto me the whole house of Israel, and the whole
house of Judah, saith the Lord : that they might be unto me
for a people, and for a name, and for a praise, and for a
glory : but they would not hear." That is, God sought to
make them to be his own holy people ; or, as the apostle
expresses it, his peculiar people, zealous of good works ;
that so they might be a glory to him ; as girdles were used
in those days for ornament and beauty, and as badges of
dignity and honour.*
Now when God speaks of himself, as seeking a peculiar
and holy people for himself, to be for his glory and honour,
as a man that seeks an ornament and badge of honour for
* See ver. 9, and also Isa. iii. 24. and xxii. 21. and xxiii. 10. 2 Sam. xviii.

his glory, it is not natural to understand it merely of a
subordinate end, as though God had no respect to himself
in it ; but only the good of others. If so, the comparison
would not be natural ; for men are commonly wont to
seek their own glory and honour in adorning themselves,
and dignifying themselves with badges of honour.
The same doctrine seems to be taught, Eph. i. 5. " Having
predestinated us to the adoption of children by Jesus Christ,
unto himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, to
the praise of the glory if his grace."— And the same may
be argued from Isa. xliv. 23. " For the Lord hath redeem
ed Jacob, he hath glorified himself in Israel." And chap.
xlix. 3. "Thou art my servant Jacob, in whom I will, he
glorified." John xvii. 10. " And all mine are thine, and
thine are mine, and I am glorified in them." 2 Thess. i.
10. " When he shall come to be glorified in his saints." Ver.
11,12." Wherefore also we pray always for you, that our
God would count you worthy of his calling, and fulfil all
the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith
with power : that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glo
rified in you, and ye in him, according to the grace of God
and our Lord Jesus Christ." •
3. The Scripture speaks of God's glory, as his ultimate
end of the goodness of the moral part of the creation ; and
that end, in relation to wbich chiefly the value of their vir
tue consists.
As in Phil. i. 10, 11. " That ye may approve things that
are excellent, that ye may be sincere, and without offence,
till the day of Christ : being filled with the fruits of right
eousness, which are by Jesus Christ, unto the glory and
praise of God." Here the apostle shows how the fruits of
righteousness in them are valuable, and how they answer
their end, viz. in being " by Jesus Christ to the praise and
J lory of God." John xv. 8. " Herein is my Father glori
ed, that ye bear much fruit." Signifying, that by this
means it is that the great end of religion is to be answered.
And in 1 Pet. iv. 11. the apostle directs the Christians to
regulate all their religious performances with reference to
that one end. " If any man speak, let him speak as the
oracles of God : if any man minister, let him do it as of
the ability which God giveth, that God in all things mat/
be glorified ; to whom be praise and dominion for ever
and ever. Amen."
And, from time to time, embracing and practising true
religion, and repenting of sin, and turning to holiness, is
expressed by glorifying God, as though that were the sum
and end of the whole matter. Rev. xi. 13. " And in the
earthquake were slain of men seven thousand ; and the
remnant were affrighted, and gave glory to the God of
heaven." So Rev. xiv. 6, 7. " And 1 saw another angel fly
in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to
preach to them that dwell on the earth ; saying with a loud
voice, Fear God, and give glory to him." As though
this were the sum and end of that virtue and religion,
which was the grand design of preaching the gospel, every
where through the world. Rev. xvi. 9. " And repented
not to give him glory." Which is as much as to say, they
did not forsake their sins and turn to true religion, that
God might receive that which is the great end he seeks, in
the religion he requires of men. (See to the same pur
pose, Psal. xxii. 21—23. Isa. Ixvi. 19. xxiv. 15. xxv. 3.
Jer. xiii. 15, 16. Dan. v. 23. Rom. xv. 5, 6.)
And as the exercise of true religion and virtue in Chris
tians is summarily expressed by their glorifying God, so,
when the good influence of this on others' is" spoken of, it
is expressed in the same manner. Matt. v. 16. " Let
your light so shine before men, that others seeing your good
works, may glorify your Father which is in heaven."
1 Pet. ii. 12. " Having your conversation honest among the
Gentiles, that whereas they speak evil against you as evil
doers, they may, by your good works which they, behold,
glorify God in the day of visitation."
That the ultimate end of moral goodness, or righteous
ness, is answered in God's glory being attained, is sup
posed in tbe objection which the apostle makes, or supposes
some will make, Rom. iii. 7. " For if the truth of God hath
more abounded through my lie unto his glory, why am I
judged as a sinner?" i.e. seeing the great end'of righteous-
11. Exod. xxvili. 8.

Sect. III.

ON PARTICULAR TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE.

109

ness is answered by my sin, in God being glorified, why
is my sin condemned and punished '! and why is not my
vice equivalent to virtue (
And the glory of God is spoken of as that wherein con
sists the value and end of particular graces. As of faith.
Rom. iv. 20. " He staggered not at the promise of God
through unbelief: but was strong in faith, giving glory
to God." Phil. ii. 11. " That every tongue should confess
that Jesus is the Lord, to the glory of God the Father."
Of repentance. Josh. vi. 19. " Give, 1 pray thee, glory to
the Lord God of Israel, and make confession unto him."
Of charity. 2 Cor. viii. 19." With this grace, which is ad
ministered by us, to the glory of the same Lord, and
declaration of your ready mind. Thanksgiving and praise.
Luke vii. 18. " There are not found that returned to give
glory to God, save this stranger." Psal. 1. 23. " Whoso
offereth praise glorifieth me ; and to him that ordereth
his conversation aright, will I show the salvation of God."
Concerning which last place may be observed, that God
seems to say this to such as supposed, in their religious
performances, that the end of all religion was to glorify God.
They supposed they did this in the best manner, in offer
ing a multitude of sacrifices ; but God corrects their mis
take, and informs them, that this grand end of religion is
not attained this way, but in offering the more spiritual sa
crifices of praise and a holy conversation.
In fine, the words of the apostle in 1 Cor. vi. 20. are
worthy of particular notice. " Ye are not your own ; for ye
are bought with a price : therefore glorifv God in your
body and in your spirit, which are his." Here, not only is
glorifying God spoken of, as what summarily comprehends
the end of religion, and of Christ redeeming us ; but the
apostle urges, that inasmuch as we are not our own, we
ought not to act as if we were our own, but as God's ;
and should not use the members of our bodies, or facul
ties of our souls, for ourselves, but for God, as making
him our end. And he expresses the way in which we are
to make God our end, viz. in making his glory our end.
" Therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit,
which are his." Here it cannot be pretended, that though
Christians are indeed required to make God's glory their
end ; yet it is but as a subordinate end, as subservient to
their own happiness ; for then, in acting chiefly and ulti
mately for their ownselves, they would use themselves
more as their own than as God's ; which is directly con
trary to the design of the apostle's exhortation, and the
argument he is upon ; which is, that we should give our
selves as it were away from ourselves to God, and use our
selves as his, and not bur own, acting for his sake, and not
our own sakes. Thus it is evident, by position the ninth,
that the glory of God is the last end for which he created
the world.
4. There are some things in the word of God which
lead us to suppose, that it requires of men that they should
desire and seek God's glory, as their highest and last end in
what they do.
As particularly, from 1 Cor. x. 30. " Whether therefore
ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of
God." And 1 Pet. iv. 11.—" That God in all things may
be glorified." And this may be argued, that Christ re
quires his followers should desire and seek God's glory in
the first place, and above all things else, from that prayer
which he gave his disciples, as the pattern and rule for the
direction of his followers in their prayers. The first
petition of which is, Hallowed be thy name. Which in
scripture language is the same with glorified be thy name ;
as is manifest from Lev. x. 3. Ezek. xxviii. 22. and many
other places. Now our last and highest end is doubtless
what should, be first in our desires, and consequently first
in our prayers ; and therefore, we may argue, that since
Christ directs that God's glory should be first in our pray
ers, that therefore this is our last end. This is further con
firmed by the conclusion of the Lord's prayer, For thine is
the kingdom., the power, and the glory. Which, as it stands
in connexion with the rest of the prayer, implies, that we
desire and ask all the things mentioned in each petition,
with a subordination, and in subservience, to the dominion
and glory of God ; in which all our desires ultimately
terminate, as their' last end. God's glory and dominion
are the two first things mentioned in the prayer, and are

the subject of the first half of the prayer ; and they are
the two last things mentioned in the same prayer, in its
conclusion. God's glory is the Alpha and Omega in the
prayer. From these things we may argue, according to
position the eighth, that God's glory is the last end if the
creation. 5. The glory of God appears, by the account given in
Scripture, to be that event, in the earnest desires of which,
and in their delight in which, the best part of the moral
world, and when in their best frames, most naturally ex
press the direct tendency of the spirit of true goodness, the
virtuous and pious affections of their heart.
This is the way in which the holy apostles, from time to
time, gave vent to the ardent exercises of their piety, and
breathed forth their regard to the Supreme Being. Rom.
xi. 36. " To whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen." Chap.
xvi. 27. " To God only wise, be glory, through Jesus Christ,
forever. Amen." Gal. i. 4, 5. " Who gave himself for our
sins, that he might deliver us from this present evil world,
according to the will of God and our Father, to whom be
flory for ever and ever. Amen." 2 Tim. iv. 18. " And the
,ord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will pre
serve me to his heavenly kingdom : to whom be glory for
ever and ever. Amen." Eph. iii. 21. " Unto him be glory
in the church by Christ Jesus, throughout all ages, world
without end." Heb. xiii. 21. — " Through Jesus Christ, to
whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen." Phil. iv. 20.
" Now unto God and our Father be glory for ever and ever.
Amen." 2 Pet. iii. 18. " To him be glory both now and for
ever. Amen." Jude 25. "To the only wise God our Saviour,
be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and
ever. Amen." Rev. i. 5, 6. " Unto him that loved us, &c.
— to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen."
It was in this way that holy David, the sweet psalmist
of Israel, vented the ardent tendencies and desires of his
pious heart. 1 Chron. xvi. 28, 29. " Give unto the Lord,
ye kindreds of the people, give unto the Lord glory and
strength : give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name."
We have much the same expressions again, Psal. xxix. 1,
2. and lxix. 7, 8. See also, Psal. lvii. 5. ixxii. 18, 19.
cxv. 1. So the whole church of God through all parts of
the earth, Isa. xiii. 10 — 12. In like manner the saints
and angels in heaven express the piety of their hearts, Rev.
iv. 9, 11 — 14. and vii. 12. This is the event that the
hearts of the seraphim especially exult in, as appears by
Isa. vi. 2, 3. " Above it stood the seraphim — And one cried
unto another, and said,Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts,
the whole earth is full of his glory." So at the birth of
Christ, Luke ii. 14. " Glory to God in the highest," &c.
It is manifest that these holy persons in earth and heaven,
in thus expressing their desires of the glory of God, have
respect to it, not merely as a subordinate end, but as that
which is in itself valuable in the highest degree. It would
be absurd to say, that in these ardent exclamations, they
are only giving vent to their vehement benevolence to their
fellow-creatures, and expressing their earnest desire that
God might be glorified, that so his subjects may be made
happy by that means. It is evident, it is not so much their
love, either to themselves, or their fellow-creatures, which
they express, as their exalted and supreme regard to the
most high and infinitely glorious Being. When the church
says, Not unto us, not unto us, O Jehovah, but to thy name
give glory, it would be absurd to say, that she only desires
that God may have glory, as a necessary or convenient
means of their own advancement and felicity. From these
things it appeal's by the eleventh position, that God's glory
is the end of the creation.
6. The Scripture leads us to suppose, that Christ sought
God's glory, as his highest and last end.
Johnvii. 18." Hethat speaketh of himself, seekethhisown
glory ; but he that seeketn his glory that sent him, the same
is true, and no unrighteousness is in him." When Christ
says, he did not seek his own glory, we cannot reasonably
understand him, that he had no regard to his own glory,
even the glory of the human nature ; for the glory of that
nature was part of the reward promised him, and of the
joy set before him. But we must understand him, that this
was not his ultimate aim ; it was not the end that chiefly
governed his conduct : and therefore, when in opposition
to this,. in the latter part of the sentence, he says, " But he

110

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II.

that seeketh his glory that sent him, the same is true," &c.
It is natural from the antithesis to understand him, that
this was his ultimate aim, his supreme governing end.
John xii. 27, 28. " Now is my soul troubled, and what
shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour : but for this
cause came I unto this hour, Father, glorify thy name"
Christ was now going to Jerusalem, and expected in a
few days there to be crucified : and the prospect of his
last sufferings, in this near approach, was very terrible to
him. Under this distress of mind, he supports himself
with a prospect of what would be the consequence of his
sufferings, viz. God's glory. Now, it is the end that sup
ports the agent in any difficult work that he undertakes,
and above all others, his ultimate and supreme end ; for
this is above all others valuable in his eyes; and so, suffi
cient to countervail the difficulty of the means. That end,
which is in itself agreeable and sweet to him, and which
ultimately terminates his desires, is the centre of rest and
support; and so must be the fountain and sum of all the
delight and comfort he has in his prospects, with respect to
his work. Now Christ has his soul straitened and dis
tressed with a view of that which was infinitely the most
difficult part of his work, and which was just at hand.
Now certainly, if his mind seeks support in the conflict
from a view of his end, it must most naturally repair to
the highest end, which is the proper fountain of all sup
port in this case. We may well suppose, that when his
soul conflicts with the most extreme difficulties, it would
resort to the idea of his supreme and ultimate end, the
fountain of all the support and comfort he has in the work.
The same thing, Christ seeking the glory of God as his
ultimate end, is manifest by what he says, when he comes
yet nearer to the hour of his last sufferings, in that remark
able prayer, the last he ever made with his disciples, on
the evening before his crucifixion ; wherein he expresses
the sum of his aims and desires. His first words are,
" Father, the hour is come, glorify thy Son, that thy Son
also may glorify thee." As this is his first request, we may
suppose it to be his supreme request and desire, and what
he ultimately aimed at in all. If we consider what follows
to the end, all the rest that is said in the prayer, seems to
be but an amplification of this great request. — On the
whole, I think it is pretty manifest, that Jesus Christ
sought the glory of God as his highest and last end ; and
that therefore, by position twelfth, this was God's last end
in the creation of the world.
7. It is manifest from Scripture, that God's glory is the
last end of that great work of providence, the work of
redemption by Jesus Christ.
This is manifest from what is just now observed, of its
being the end ultimately sought by Jesus Christ the Re
deemer. And if we further consider the texts mentioned
in the proof of that, and take notice of the context, it will
be very evident, that it was what Christ sought as his last
end, in that great work which he came into the world upon,
viz. to procure redemption for his people. It is manifest,
that Christ professes in John vii. 18. that he did not seek
his own glory in what he did, but the glory of him that
sent him. He means, in the work of his ministry; the
work he performed, and which he came into the world to
perform, which is the work of redemption. And with
respect to that text, John xii. 27, 28. it has been already
observed, that Christ comforted himself in the view of the
extreme difficulty of his work, in the prospect of the highest,
ultimate, and most excellent end of that work, which he
set his heart most upon, and delighted most in.
And in the answer that the Father made him from heaven
at that time, in the latter part of the same verse, John xii.
28. " I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again." The
meaning plainly is, that God had glorified his name in
what Christ had done, in the work he sent him upon ; and
would glorify it again, and to a greater degree, in what he
should further do, and in the success thereof. Christ shows
that he understood it thus in what he says upon it, when
the people took notice of it, wondering at the voice ; some
saying, that it thundered, others, that an angel spake to
him. Christ says, " This voice came not because of me,
but for your sak'es." And then he says, (exulling in the
prospect of this glorious end and success,) " Now is the
judgment of this world ; now is the prince of this world

cast out ; and I, if I be lift up from the earth, will draw
all men unto me." In the success of the same work of
redemption, he places his own glory, as was observed be
fore. John xii. 23, 24. " The hour is come that the Son of
man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you,
except a corn of wheat fall into the ground, it abideth
alone ; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit."
So it is manifest, that when he seeks his own and his
Father's glory, in that prayer, John xvii. he seeks it as the
end of that great work he came into the world upon, and
which he is about to finish in his death. What follows
through the whole prayer, plainly shows this ; particularly
the 4th and 5th verses. " I have glorified thee on earth : I
have finished the work which thou gavest me to do. And
now, 0 Father, glorify thou me with thine own self." Here
it is pretty plain, that declaring to his Father he had glori
fied him on earth, and finished the work given him to do,
meant that he had finished the work which God gave him
to do for this end, that he might be glorified. He had now
finished that foundation that he came into the world to lay
for his glory. He had laid a foundation for his Father s
obtaining his will, and the utmost that he designed. By
which it is manifest, that God's glory was the utmost of
his design, or his ultimate end in this great work.
And it is manifest, by John xiii. 31, 32. that the glory
of the Father, and his own glory, are what Christ exulted
in, in the prospect of his approaching sufferings, when Ju
das was gone out to betray him, as the end his heart was
mainly set upon, and supremely delighted in. "Therefore,
when he was gone out, Jesus said, Now is the Son of man
glorified, and God is glorified in him. If God be glorified
in him, God shall also glorify him in himself, and shall
straightway glorify him."
That the glory of God is the highest and last end of the
work of redemption, is confirmed by the song of the an
gels at Christ's birth. Luke ii. 14. " Glory to God in the
highest, and on earth peace, and good will toward men."
It must be supposed that they knew what was God's last
end in sending Christ into the world : and that in their
rejoicing on the occasion, their minds would most rejoice
in that which was most valuable and glorious in it; which
must consist in its relation to that which was its chief and
ultimate end. And we may further suppose, that the thing
which chiefly engaged their minds was most glorious and
joyful in the affair ; and would be first in that song which
was to express the sentiments of their minds, and exulta
tion of their hearts.
The glory of the Father and the Son is spoken of as the
end of the work of redemption, in Phil. ii. 6 — 11. (very
much in the same manner as in John xii. 23, 28. and xiii.
31, 32, and xvii. 1, 4, 5.) " Who being in the form of
God, — made himself of no reputation, and took upon him
the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of
men : and being found in fashion as a man, he humbled
himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death
of the cross : wherefore God also hath highly exalted him,
and given him a name, &c. that at the name of Jesus every
knee should bow, — and every tongue confess, that Jesus is
the Lord, to the glory of God the Father." So God's
glory, or the praise of his glory, is spoken of as the end of
the work of redemption, in Eph. i. 3, &c. " Blessed be the
God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath
blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in
Christ : according as he hath chosen us in him. Having
predestinated us to the adoption of children, to the praise
of the glory of his grace." And in the continuance
of the same discourse, concerning the redemption of Christ,
God's glory is once and again mentioned as the great end
of all.
Several things belonging to that great redemption, are
mentioned in the following verses : Such as God's great
wisdom in it, ver. 8. The clearness of light granted
through Christ, ver. 9. God's gathering together in one,
all things in heaven and earth in Christ, ver. 10. God's
giving the Christians that were first converted to the Chris
tian faith from among the Jews, an interest in this great
redemption, ver. 11. Then the great end is added, ver. 12.
" That we should be to the praise of his glory, who
first trusted in Christ." And then is mentioned" the be
stowing of the same great salvation on the Gentiles, in its

Sect. III.

PARTICULAR TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE.

Ill

beginning or first fruits in the world, and in completing it
in another world, in the two next verses. And then the
same great end is added again. " In whom ye also trust
ed, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of
your salvation : In whom also, after that ye believed, ye
were sealed with the holy spirit of promise, which is the
earnest of our inheritance, until the redemption of the
purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory"
The same thing is expressed much in the same manner, in
2 Cor. iv. 14, 15. — " He which raised up the Lord Jesus,
shall raise us up also by Jesus, and shall present us with
you. For all things are for your sakes, that the abundance
of grace might, through the thanksgiving of many, redound
to the glory of God.
The same is spoken of as the end of the work of re
demption in the Old Testament, Psal. lxxix. 9. " Help us,
O God of our salvation, for the glory of thy name ;
deliver us and purge away our sins, for thy name's sake."
So in the prophecies of the redemption of Jesus Christ.
Isa. xliv. 23. " Sing, O ye heavens ; for the Lord hath
done it : shout, ye lower parts of the earth : break forth
into singing, ye mountains : O forest, and every tree there
in: for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified
himself in Israel !" Thus the works of creation are
called upon to rejoice at the attaining of the same end, by
the redemption of God's people, that the angels rejoiced
at when Christ was born. See also Isa. xlviii. 10, 11. and
xlix. 3.
Thus it is evident, that the glory of God is the ultimate
end of the work of redemption ; which is the chief work
of providence towards the moral world, as is abundantly
manifest from Scripture. For the whole universe is put
in subjection to Jesus Christ ; all heaven and earth, angels
and men, are subject to him, as executing this office ; and
are put under him to that end, that all things may be or
dered by him, in subservience to the great designs of his
redemption. AH power, as he says, is given to him, in
heaven and in earth, that he may give eternal life to as
many as the Father has given him ; and he is exalted far
above all principality and power, and might and dominion,
and made head over all things to the church. The angels are
put in subjection to him, that he may employ them all as
ministering spirits, for the good of them that shall be the
heirs of salvation : and all things are so governed by their
Redeemer, that all things are theirs, whether things pre
sent or things to come : and all God's works of providence
in the moral government of the world, which we have an
account of in scripture history, or that are foretold in
scripture prophecy, are evidently subordinate to the great
purposes and ends of this great work. And besides, the work
of redemption is that, by which good men are, as it were,
brought into being, as good men, or as restored to holiness
and happiness. The work of redemption is a new crea
tion, according to Scripture, whereby men are brought into
a new existence, or are made new creatures.
From these things it follows, according to the 5th, 6th,
and 7th positions, that the glory of God is the last end of
the creation of the world.
8. The Scripture leads us to suppose that God's glory
is his last end in his moral government of the world in
general. This has been already shown concerning several
things that belong to God's moral government of the
world. As particularly in the work of redemption, the
chief of all his dispensations in his moral government of
the world. And I have also observed it, with respect to
the duty which God requires of the subjects of his moral
government, in requiring them to seek his glory as their
last end. And this is actually the last end of the moral
goodness required of them, the end which gives their moral
goodness its chief value. And also, that it is what that
person which God has set at the head of the moral world,
as its chief governor, even Jesus Christ, seeks as his chief
end. And it has been shown, that it is the chief end for
which that part of the moral world which are good are
¦made, or have their existence as good.
I now further observe, that this is the end of the estab
lishment of the public worship and ordinances of God
among mankind. Hag. i. 8. " Go up to the mountain, and
bring wood, and build the house ; and I will take pleasure
in it, and I will be glorified, saith the Lord." This is

spoken of as the end of God's promises of rewards, and of
their fulfilment. 2 Cor. i. 20. " For all the promises of
God in him are yea, and in him Amen, to the glory of
God by us." And this is spoken of as the end of the exe
cution of God's threatenings, in the punishment of sin.
Numb. xiv. 20, 21, 22, 23. " And the Lord said, I have
pardoned according to thy word. But, as truly as I live,
all the earth shall be filled with the glory of Jehovah."
The glory of Jehovah is evidently here spoken of, as that to
which he had regard, as his highest and ultimate end, which
therefore he could not fail of; but must take place every
where, and in every case, through all parts of his dominion,
whatever became of men. And whatever abatements
might be made, as to judgments deserved ; and whatever
changes might be made in the course of God's proceedings
from compassion to sinners ; yet the attaining of God s
glory was an end, which, being ultimate and supreme,
must in no case whatsoever give place. This is spoken of
as the end of God executing judgments on his enemies in
this world. Exod. xiv. 17, 18. " And I will get me honour
(rra-Si I will be glorified) upon Pharaoh, and upon all
his host," &c. Ezek.' xxviii. 22. " Thus saith the Lord
God, Behold, I am against thee, O Zidon, and I will be
florified in the midst of thee : And they shall know that
am the Lord, when I shall have executed judgments in
her, and shall be sanctified in her." So Ezek. xxxix. 13.
" Yea, all the people of the land shall bury them ; and it
shall be to them a renown, the day that I shall be glorified,
saith the Lord God;" And this is spoken of as the end,
both of the executions of wrath, and in the glorious exer
cises of mercy, in the misery and happiness of another
world. Rom. ix. 22, 23. " What if God, willing to show
his wrath, and make his power known, endured with much
long-suffering, the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction ;
and that he might make known the riches of his glory on
the vessels of mercy, which he had afore ' prepared unto
glory." And this is spoken of as the end of the day of
judgment, which is the time appointed for the highest ex
ercises of God's authority as moral Governor of tbe world ;
and is as it were the day of the consummation of God's
moral government, with respect to all his subjects in heaven,
earth, and hell. 2 Thess. i. 9, 10. " Who shall be punished
with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord,
and from the glory of his power ; when he shall come to be
glorified in his saints, and to be admired in all them that
believe." Then his glory shall be obtained, with respect
both to saints and sinners  From these things it is manifest,
by the fourth position, that God's glory is the ultimate end
of the creation of the world.
9. It appears, from what has been already observed,
that the glory of God is spoken of in Scripture as the last
end of many of his works : and it is plain that this is in
fact the result of the works of God's common providence,
and of the creation of the world. Let us take God's glory
in what sense soever, consistent with its being a good at
tained by any work of God, certainly it is the consequence
of these works : and besides, it is expressly so spoken of
in Scripture.
This is implied in the eighth psalm, wherein are cele
brated the works of creation : the heavens, the work of
God's fingers ; the moon and the stars, ordained by him ;
and man, made a little lower than the angels, &c. The
first verse is — " O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name
in all the earth ! who hast set thy glory above the heavens,"
or upon the heavens. By name and glory, very much the
same thing is intended here, as in many other places, as
shall be particularly shown afterwards. The psalm con
cludes as it began. " O Lord, our Lord, bow excellent is
thy name in all the earth !" So, in the 148th psalm, after
a particular mention of most of the works of creation,
enumerating them in order, the psalmist says, ver. 13.
" Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone
is excellent, his glory is above the earth and the heaven."
And in the 104th psalm, after a very particular, orderlv,
and magnificent representation of God's works of creation
and common providence, it is said in the 31st verse, "The
glory of the Lord shall endure for ever : the Lord shall
rejoice'in his works." Here God's glory is spoken of as the
grand result and blessed consequence, on account of which
he rejoices in these works. And this is one thing doubtless

112

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II.

implied in the song of the seraphim, Isa.vi. 3. " Holy, holy,
holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory."
The glory of God, in being the result and consequence of
those works of providence that have been mentioned, is in
fact the consequence of the creation. The good attained in
the use of a thing, made for use, is the result of the making
of that thing; as signifying the time of day, when actually
attained by the use of a watch, is the consequence of mak
ing the watch. So it is apparent, that the glory of God is
actually the result and consequence of the creation of the
world. And from what has been already observed, it ap
pears, that it is what God seeks as good, valuable, and ex
cellent in itself. And I presume none will pretend, that
there is any thing peculiar in the nature of the case, ren
dering it a thing valuable in some of the instances wherein
it takes place, and not in others : or that the. glory of God,
though indeed an effect of all God's works, is an exceeding
desirable effect of some of them ; but of others, a worthless
and insignificant effect. God's glory therefore must be a
desirable, valuable consequence of the work of creation.
Therefore it is manifest, by position the third, that the
glory of God is an ultimate end in the creation of the
world.

SECT. IV.
Places of Scripture that lead us to suppose, that God created
the world for his name, to make his perfections known ;
and that he made it for his praise.
1. Here I shall first take notice of some passages of
Scripture that speak of God's name as being the object of
his regard, and the regard of his virtuous and holy intelli
gent creatures, much in the same manner as has been ob
served of God's glory.
God's name is, in like manner, spoken of as the end of
his acts of goodness towards the good part of the moral
world, and of his works of mercy and salvation towards
his people. As 1 Sam. xii. 22. " The Lord will not for
sake his people, for his great name's sake." Psal. xxiii. 3.
" He restoreth my soul, he leadeth me in the paths of
righteousness, for his name's sake." Psal. xxxi. 3. " For
thy name's sake, lead me, and guide me." Psal. cix. 21.
"But do thou for me,  for thy name's sake." The for
giveness of sin in particular, is often spoken of as being
for God's name's sake. 1 John ii. 12. " I write unto you,
little children, because your sins are forgiven you for his
name's sake." Psal. xxv. 11. " For thy name's 'sake, O
Lord, pardon mine iniquity, for it is great." Psal. lxxix.
9. "Help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of
thy name; and deliver us, and purge away our sins, for
thy name's sake" Jer. xiv. 7. " O Lord, though our
iniquities testify against us, do thou it for thy name's sake."
These things seem to show, that the salvation of Christ
is for God's name's sake. Leading and guiding in the way
of safety and happiness, restoring the soul, the forgiveness
of sin ; and that help, deliverance, and salvation, that is
consequent therein, is for God's name. And here it is ob
servable, that those two great temporal salvations of God's
people, the redemption from Egypt, and that from Baby
lon, often represented as figures and similitudes of the re
demption of Christ, are frequently spoken of as being
wrought for God's name's sake.
Thus that great work of God, in delivering his people
from Egypt, and conducting them to Canaan. 2 Sam. vii.
23. " And what one nation in the earth is like thy people,
evetfhke Israel, whom God went to redeem for a people
to himself, and to make him a name." Psal. cvi. 8.
" Nevertheless he saved them for his name's sake." Isa!
lxiii. 12. "That led them by the' right hand of Moses, with
his glorious arm, dividing the waters before them, to make
himself an everlasting name." In the 20th chap, of Ezekiel,
God, rehearsing the various parts of this wonderful work,
adds, from time -to time, " I wrought for my name's sake,
that it should not be polluted before 'the heathen," as in
ver. 9, 14, 22. (See also Josh. vii. 8,9. Dan. ix. 15.)
So is the redemption from the Babylonish captivity. Isa.
xlviii. 9, 10. " For my name's sake will I defer mine anger.
For mine own sake, even for mine own sake, will I do it ;

for how should my name be polluted?" In Ezek. xxxvi.
21, 22, 23. the reason is given for God's mercy in restor
ing Israel. " But I had pity for my holy name. Thus
saith the Lord, I do not this for your sakes, O house of
Israel, hut for my holy name's sake ; — And I will sanctify
my great name, which was profaned among the heathen.
And chap, xxxix. 25. "Therefore, thus saith the Lord
God, now will I bring again the captivity of Jacob, and
have mercy upon the whole house of Israel, and will be
jealous for my holy name." Daniel prays, that God would
forgive his people, and show them mercy for his own sake.
Dan. ix. 19.
When God, from time to time, speaks of showing mercy,
and exercising goodness, and promoting his people's hap
piness for his name's sake, we cannot understand it as of
a merely subordinate end. How absurd would it be to
say, that he promotes their happiness for his name's sake,
in subordination to their good ; and that his name may be
exalted only for their sakes, as a means of promoting their
happiness ! especially when such expressions as these are
used, " For mine own sake, even for mine own sake will
I do it ; for how should my name be polluted 1" and
" Not for your sakes do I this, but for my holy name's
sake." Again, it is represented as though God's people had
their existence, at least as God's people, for God's name's
sake. God's redeeming or purchasing them, that they
might be his people, for his name, implies this. As in that
passage mentioned before, 2 Sam. vii. 23. " Thy people
Israel, whom God went to redeem for a people to himself,
and to make him a name." So God making them a people
for his name, is implied in Jer. xiii. 11. " For as the girdle
cleaveth to the loins of a man, so have I caused to cleave
unto me the whole house of Israel, &c. — that they may be
unto me for a people, and for a name." Acts xv. 14.
" Simeon hath declared how God at the first did visit the
Gentiles, to take out of them a people for his name."
This also is spoken of as the end of the virtue, religion,
and holy behaviour of the saints. Rom. i. 5. " By whom
we have received grace and apostleship, for obedience to
the faith among all nations for hisname." Matt. xix. 29.
" Every one .that forsaketh' houses, or brethren, kc.—for
my name's s_te,.shall receive an hundred fold, and shall' in
herit everlastin{;\hfe." 3 John 7. " Because, that for his
name's sake, they went forth, taking nothing of the Gentiles."
Rev. ii. 3. " And hast borne, and hast patience, and for
my name's sake hast laboured and hast not fainted."
And we find that holy persons express their desire of
this, and their Joy in it, in the same mariner as in the glory
of God. 2 Sam. vii. 26. " Let thy name be magnified for
ever." Psal. lxxvi. 1. "In Judah is God known, his
name is great in Israel." Psal. cxlviii. 13. " Let them
praise the name of the Lord ; for his name alone is excel
lent, his glory is above the earth and heaven." Psal. cxxxv.
13. "Thy name, O Lord, endureth for ever, and thy me
morial throughout all generations." Isa. xii. 4. " Declare
his doings among the people, make mention that his name
is exalted."
The judgments God executes on the wicked, are spoken
of as being for the sake of his name, in like manner as for
his glory. Exod. ix. 16. "And in very deed, for this
cause have I raised thee up, for to show in thee my power;
and that my name may be declared throughout all the
6 ' 'ra.Neh' ix- 10- " And sh°wedst signs and wonders
upon Pharaoh, and on all his servants, and on all the
people of his- land; for thou knewedst that they dealt
proudly against them : so didst thou get thee a name, as at
this day."
And this is spoken of as a consequence of the works of
creation, in like manner as God's glory. Psal. viii. 1 . " O
Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who
hast set thy glory above the heavens." And then, at the
conclusion of the observations on the works of creation, the
psalm ends thus, ver. 9. " O Lord our Lord, how excellent
is thy name in all the earth !" So Psal. cxlviii. 13. after
a particular mention of the various works of creation.
, -Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone
is excellent in all the earth, his glory is above the earth
and the heaven."
2. So we find the manifestation of God's perfect ions, his

Sect. IV

GOD CREATED THE WORLD FOR HIS NAME, &c.

113

greatness, and excellency, is spoken of very much in the
same manner as God's glory.
There are several scriptures which would lead us to
suppose this to be the great thing that God sought of the
moral world, and the end aimed at in moral agents, wherein
they are to be active in answering their end. This seems
implied in that argument God's people sometimes made
use of, in deprecating a state of death and destruction :
that, in such a state, they cannot know, or make known,
the glorious excellency of God. Psal. lxxxviii. 18, 19.
" Shall thy loving-kindness be declared in the grave, or
thy faithfulness m destruction? Shall thy wonders be
known in the dark, and thy righteousness in the land of
forgetfulness ? " So Psal. xxx. 9. Isa.xxxviii. 18,19. The
argument seems to be this : Why should we perish ? and
how shall thine end, for which thou hast made us, be ob
tained in a state of destruction, in which thy glory cannot
be known or declared ?
This is the end of the good part of the moral world, or
the end of God's people in the same manner as the glory
of God. Isa. xliii. 21. "This people have I formed for
myself, they shall show forth my praise." 1 Pet. ii. 9.
"But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an
holy nation, a peculiar people, that ye should show forth
the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness
into marvellous light."
And this seems to be represented as the thing wherein
the value, the proper fruit and end of their virtue appears.
Isa. Ix. 6. speaking of the conversion of the Gentile
nations to true religion, "They shall come and show forth
the praises of the Lord." Isa. lxvi. 19. " I will send 
unto the nations — —and to the isles afar off, that have not
heard my fame, neither have seen my glory; and they shall
declare my glory among the Gentiles." — To which we may
add, the proper tendency and rest of true virtue, and holy
dispositions. 1 Chron. xvii. 8. "Make known his deeds
among the people." Verse 23, 24. "Show forth from day
to day thy salvation. Declare his glory among the
heathen."*' This seems to be spoken of as a great end of the acts of
God's moral government ; particularly, the great judgments
he executes for sin. Exod. ix. 16. "And in very deed, for
this cause have I raised thee up, to show in thee my power ;
and that my name might be declared throughout all the
earth." Dan. iv. 17. "This matter is by the decree of the
watchers, &c. To the intent, that the living may know
that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and
giveth it to whomsoever he will ; and setteth up over it
the basest of men." But places to this purpose are too
numerous to be particularly recited. See them in the
margin .-f-
This is also a great end of God's works of favour and
mercy to his people. 2 Kings xix. 19. "Now, therefore, O
Lord our God, I beseech thee, save thou us out of his
hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that
thou art the Lord God, even thou only." 1 Kings viii. 59,
60. — "That he maintain the cause of his servant, and the
cause of his people Israel, at all times, as the matter shall
require, that all the people of the earth may know that the
Lord is God, and that there is none else." See other pas
sages to the same purpose referred to in the margin.]:
This is spoken of as the end of the eternal damnation of
the wicked, and also the eternal happiness of the righteous.
Rom. ix. 22, 23. " What if God, willing to show his wrath,
and make his power known, endured with much long-suffer
ing the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction : and that he
might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels
of mercy, which he hath afore prepared unto glory ?"
This is spoken of, from time to time, as a great end of
the miracles which God wrought. (See Exod. vii. 17. and
viii. JO. and x. 2. Deut. xxix. 5, 6. Ezek. xxiv. 17.) And
of the ordinances he has established. Exod. xxix. 44, 45,
46. " And I will sanctify also both Aaron and his sons, to
minister to me in the priests' office. And I will dwell
w See also, Psal. ix. 1, 11, 14, and xix. 1. and xxvi. 7. and lxxi. 18. and
Ixxv. 9. and lxxvi. 1. andlxxix. 13, and xcvi. 2, 3. andci. 1. andcvii.22. and
cxviii. 17. andcxlv. 6, 11,12. Isa. xiii. 12. and lxiv. 1 , 2. Jer. Ii. 10.
t Exod. xiv. 17, 18. 1 Sam. xvii, 46. Psal. lxxxiii. 18. Isa. xiv. 3. Ezek. vi.
7, 10, 13, 14. and vii. 4, 9, 27. and xi. 10, 1 1, 12. and iii. 15, 16, 20. and xiii.
9. 14, 21, 23. and xiv. 8 and xv. 7. and xxi. 5. and xxii/16. and xxv. 7, II, 17.
and xxvi. 6. and xxviii. 22, 23, 24. and xxix. 9, 16. and xxx. 8, 19, 25, 26. and
VOL. I. I

among the children of Israel, and will be their God. And
they shall know that I am the Lord their God," &c.
Chap. xxxi. 1 3. " Verily, my sabbaths shall ye keep ; for
it is a sign between me and you, throughout your genera
tions ; that ye may know that I am the Lord that doth
sanctify you." We have again almost the same words,
Ezek. xx. 12. and ver. 20.
This was a great end of the redemption out of Egypt.
Psal. cvi. 8. " Nevertheless he saved them for his name's
sake, that he might make his mighty power to be known."
(See also Exod. vii. 5. and Deut. iv. 34, 35.) And also of
the redemption from the Babylonish captivity. Ezek. xx.
34 — 38. " And 1 will bring you out from the people, and
will gather you out of the countries whither ye are scatter
ed.  And I will bring you into the wilderness of the
people ; and there I will plead with you, as I pleaded with
your fathers in the wilderness of the land of Egypt. — And
I will bring you into the bond of the covenant. And I
will purge out the rebels. — And ye shall know that I am
the Lord." Verse 42. " And ye shall know that I am the
Lord, when I shall bring you into the land of Israel."
Verse 44. " And ye shall know that I am the Lord, when
I have wrought with you for my name's sake." (See also
chap, xxviii. 25, 26. and xxxvi. 11. and xxxvii. 6. 13.)
Ihis is also declared to be a great end of the work of
redemption by Jesus Christ : both of its purchase, and its
application. Rom. iii. 25, 26. " Whom God hath set forth
to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare
his righteousness. — To declare, I say, at this time, his
righteousness : that he might be just, and the justifier of
him that believeth in Jesus." Eph. ii. 4 — 7. " But God,
who is rich in mercy, &c. That he might show the exceeding
riches of his grace, in his kindness towards us through
Jesus Christ.'" Chap. iii. 8, 9, 10. " To preach among
the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to make
all men see, what is the fellowship of that mystery which,
from the beginning of the world, hath been hid in God, who
created all things by Jesus Christ : To the intent that now
unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might
be known by the church the manifold wisdom of God."
Psal. xxii. 21, 22. " Save me from the lion's mouth. I
will declare thy name unto my brethren ; in the midst of the
congregation will 1 praise thee." (Compared with Heb.
ii. 12. and John xvii. 26.) Isa. lxiv. 4. " O that thou
wouldest rend the heavens — to make thy name known to
thine adversaries."
And it is pronounced to be the end of that great, actual
salvation, which should follow Christ's purchase of salva
tion, both among Jews and Gentiles. Isa. xlix. 22, 23.
" I will lift up my hand to the Gentiles, — and they shall
bring thy sons in their arms — and kings shall be thy nurs
ing-fathers — and thou shalt know that I am the Lord." §
This appears to be the end of God's common providence,
Job xxxvii. 6, 7. " For he saith to the snow, Be thou on the
earth. Likewise to the small rain, and to the great rain of
his strength. He sealeth up the hand of every man, that
all men may know his work." And of the day of judg
ment, that grand consummation of God's moral government
of the world, and the day for bringing all things to their de
signed ultimate issue. It is called, " The day of the reve
lation of the righteous judgment of God." Rom. ii. 5.
And the declaration, or openly manifesting of God's ex
cellency, is spoken of as the actual, happy consequence and
effect of the work of creation. Psal. xix. 1, &c. " The
heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament show-
eth his handy-work. Day unto day uttereth speech, night
unto night showeth knowledge. — In them hath he placed a
tabernacle for the sun, which is as a bridegroom coming
out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run
his race," &c.
3. In like manner, there are many scriptures that speak
of God's praise, in many of the forementioned respects,
just in the same manner as of his name and glory.
This is spoken of as the end of the very being of God's
xxxii. 15. and xxxiii. 29. and xxxv. 4, 12, 15. and xxxviii. 23. and xxxix. 6, 7,
21, 22.
j Exod. vi. 7. and viii. 22. and xvi. 12. 1 Kings viii. 43. and xx. 28. Psal cii.
21. Ezek. xxiii. 49. and xxiv. 21. and xxv. 5. and xxxv. 9. and xxxix. 21, 22.
§ See also, Ezek. xvi. 62. and xxix. 21. and xxxiv. 27. and xxxvi. 38. and
xxxix. 28, 29. Joel iii. 17.

11-1

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II.

people, in the same manner as before, Jer. xiii. 11. " For
as the girdle cleaveth to the loins of a man, so have I
caused to cleave unto me the whole house of Israel, and
the whole house of Judah, saith the Lord : that they
might be unto me for a name, and for a praise, and a
glory." It is spoken of as the end of the moral world. Matt.
xxi. 16. " Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings
hast thou perfected praise." That is, so hast thou in thy
sovereignty and wisdom ordered it, that thou shouldest
obtain the great end for which intelligent creatures are
made, more especially from some of them that are in them
selves weak, inferior, and more insufficient. (Compare
Psal. viii. 1, 2.)
And the same thing that was observed before concern
ing the making known God's excellency, may also be ob
served concerning God's praise. That it is made use of as
an argument in deprecating a state of destruction ; that, in
such a state, this end cannot be answered, in such a man
ner as seems to imply its being an ultimate end, for which
God had made man. Psal. lxxxviii. 10. " Shall the dead
arise and praise thee ? Shall thy loving-kindness be declared
in the grave ? — Shall thy wonders be known in the dark ?"
Psal. xxx. 9. " What profit is there in my blood ? When I
go down to the pit, shall the dust praise thee ? Shall it de
clare thy truth ? Psal. cxv. 17, 18. " The dead praise not
the Lord, neither any that go down into silence : but we
will bless the Lord, from this time forth and for evermore.
Praise ye the Lord." Isa. xxxviii. 18, 19. "For the grave
cannot praise thee, death cannot celebrate thee ; they that
go down into the pit cannot hope for thy truth. The living,
the living, he shall praise thee." And God's praise is
spoken of as the end of the virtue of God's people, in like
manner as his glory. Phil. i. 11. " Being filled with the
fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ to the
praise and glory of God."
God's praise is the end of the work of redemption. In
Eph. i. where that work in its various parts is particularly
insisted on, and set forth in its exceeding glory, this is
mentioned, from time to time, as the great end of all, that
it should be " to the praise of his glory." As in ver. 6,
12, 14. By which we may doubtless understand much
the same thing with what in Phil. i. 11. is expressed, " his
praise and glory." Agreeably to this, Jacob's fourth son,
from whom the great Redeemer was to proceed, by the
special direction of God's providence, was called Praise.
This happy consequence, and glorious end of that great
redemption, Messiah, one of his posterity, was to work
out. In the Old Testament this praise is spoken of as the
end of the forgiveness of God's people, and their salvation,
in the same manner as God's name and glory. Isa. xlviii.
9, 10, 11. " For my name's sake will Idefer mine anger,
and for my praise will I refrain for thee, that I cut thee not
off. Behold I have refined thee — for mine own sake, even
for mine own sake will I do it ; for how should my name
be polluted ? and my glory will I not give to another."
Jer. xxxiii. 8, 9. " And I will cleanse them from all their
iniquity — and I will pardon all their iniquities. And
it shall be to me a name of joy, a praise and an
honour." And that the holy part of the moral world express de
sires of this, and delight in it, as the end which holy
principles in them tend to, reach after, and rest in, in their
highest exercises— just in the same manner as the glory of
God, is abundantly manifest. It would be endless to
enumerate particular places wherein this appears ; wherein
the saints declare this, by expressing their earnest desires
of God's praise ; calling on all nations, and all beings in
heaven and earth, to praise him ; in a rapturous manner
calling on one another, crying " Hallelujah ; praise ye the
Lord, praise him for ever." Expressing their resolutions to
praise him as long as they live through all generations, and
for ever; declaring how good, how pleasant and comely
the praise of God is, &c. And it is manifest, that God's
praise is the desirable and glorious consequence and effect
of all the works of creation, by such places as these.
Psal. cxlv. 5 — 10. and cxlviii. throughout, and ciii. 19 —
22.

SECT. V.
Places of Scripture from whence it may be argued, that
communication of good to the creature, was one thing
which God had in view, as an ultimate end of the
creation of the world.
1 . According to the Scripture, communicating good to
the creatures is what is in itself pleasing to God. And
this is not merely subordinately agreeable, and esteemed
valuable on account of its relation to a further end, as it
is in executing justice in punishing the sins of men ; but
what God is inclined to on its own account, and what he
delights in simply and ultimately. For though God is
sometimes in Scripture spoken of as taking pleasure in
punishing men's sins, Deut. xxviii. 63. " The Lord will
rejoice over you, to destroy you." Ezek. v. 13. " Then
shall mine anger be accomplished, and I will cause my
fury to rest upon them, and I will be comforted." Yet
God is often spoken of as exercising goodness and show
ing mercy, with delight, in a manner quite different, and
opposite to that of his executing wrath. For the latter is
spoken of as what God proceeds to with backwardness
and reluctance; the misery of the creature being not
agreeable to him on its own account. Neh. ix. 17. " Thou
art a God ready to pardon, gracious and merciful, slow to
anger, and of great kindness." Psal. ciii. 8. " The Lord
is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in
mercy." Psal. cxlv. 8. " The Lord is gracious and full of
compassion, -slow to anger, and of great mercy." We
have again almost the same words, Jonah iv. 2. Mic. vii.
18. "Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth
iniquity, &c. — He retaineth not his anger for ever, because
he delighteth in mercy." Ezek. xviii. 32. " I have no
pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord
God ; wherefore turn yourselves, and live ye." Lam. iii.
33. " He doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children
of men." Ezek. xxxiii. 11. "As I live, saith the Lord
God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but
that the wicked turn from his way and live : turn ye, turn
ye from your evil ways ; for why will ye die, O house of
Israel !" 2 Pet. iii. 9. " Not 'willing that any should
perish, but that all should come to repentance."
2. The work of redemption wrought out by Jesus Christ,
is spoken of in such a manner as, being from the grace
and love of God to men, does not well consist with his
seeking a communication of good to them, only subordi
nately. Such expressions as that in John iii. 16. cany
another idea. " God so loved the world, that he gave his
only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should
not perish, but have everlasting life." And 1 John iv. 9,
10. " In this was manifested the love of God towards us,
because that God sent his only-begotten Son into the
world, that we might live through him. Herein is love;
not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his
Son to be the propitiation for our sins." So Eph. ii. 4.
" But God who is rich in mercy, for his great love where
with he loved us," &c. But if indeed this was only from
a regard to a further end, entirely diverse from our good ;
then all the love is truly terminated in that, its ultimate
object, and therein is his love manifested, strictly and pro
perly speaking, and not in that he loved us, or exercised
such high regard towards us. For if our good be not at
all regarded ultimately, but only subordinately, then our
good or interest is, in itself considered, nothing in God's
regard. The Scripture every where represents it, as though the
great things Christ did and suffered, were in the most
direct and proper sense from exceeding love to us. Thus
the apostle Paul represents the matter, Gal. ii. 20. " Who
loved me, and gave himself for me." Eph. v» 25.
" Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the
church, and gave himself for it." And Christ himself,
John xvii. 19. " For their sakes I sanctify myself."
And the scripture represents Christ as resting in the
salvation and glory of his people, when obtained as in
what he ultimately sought, as having therein reached the
goal, obtained the prize he aimed at, enjoying the travail
of his soul in which he is satisfied, as the recompence of
his labours and extreme agonies, Isa. liii. 10, 11. " When

Sect. V.

COMMUNICATION OF GOOD TO THE CREATURE.

115

thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see
his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the
Lord shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the tra
vail of his soul, and shall be satisfied ; by his knowledge
shall my righteous servant justify many, for he shall bear
their iniquities." He sees the travail of his soul, in seeing
his seed, the children brought forth as the result of his
travail. This implies, that Christ has his delight, most
truly and properly, in obtaining the salvation of his
church, not merely as a means, but as what he rejoices
and is satisfied in, most directly and properly. This is
proved by those scriptures which represent him as re
joicing in his obtaining this fruit of his labour and pur
chase, as the bridegroom, when he obtains his bride, Isa.
lxii. 5. "As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so
shall thy God rejoice over thee." And how emphatical
and strong to the purpose, are the expressions in Zeph. iii.
17. "The Lord toy God in the midst of thee is mighty ;
he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy ; he will
rest in his love, he will rejoice over thee with singing."
The same thing may be argued from Prov. viii. 30, 31.
" Then was I by him, as one brought up with him : and
I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him : re
joicing in the habitable part of his earth, and my delights
were with the sons of men." And from those places, that
speak of the saints as God's portion, his jewels and pecu
liar treasure, these things are abundantly confirmed, John
xii. 23 — 32. But the particular consideration of what
may be observed to the present purpose, in that passage
of Scripture, may be referred to the next section.
3. The communications of divine goodness, particularly
forgiveness of sin, and salvation, are spoken of, from time
to time, as being for God's goodness' sake, and for his mer
cies' sake, just in the same manner as they are spoken of
as being for God's name's sake, in the places observed be
fore. Psal. xxv. 7. " Remember not the sins of my
youth, nor my transgressions : according to thy mercy
remember thou me, for thy goodness' sake, O Lord." In
the 1 1 th verse, the psalmist says, " For thy name's sake,
O Lord, pardon mine iniquity." Neh. ix. 31. " Never
theless,./^ thy great mercies' sake, thou hast not utterly
consumed them, nor forsaken them ; for thou art a gra
cious and a merciful God." Psal. vi. 4. " Return, O
Lord, deliver my soul : O save me for thy mercies' sake."
Psal. xxxi. 16. "Make thy face to shine upon thy ser
vant : save me for thy mercies' sake" Psal. xliv. 26.
" Arise for our help ; redeem us for thy mercies' sake."
And here it may be observed, after what a remarkable
manner God speaks of his love to the children of Israel in
the wilderness, as though his love were for love's sake,
and his goodness were its own end and motive. Deut. vii.
7, 8. " The Lord did not set his love upon you, nor choose
you, because ye were more in number than any people,
for ye were the fewest of all people : but because the Lord
loved.you." 4. That the government of the world in all its parts, is
for the good of such as are to be the eternal subjects of
God's goodness, is implied in what the Scripture teaches
us of Christ being set at God's right hand, made king of
angels and men ; set at the head of the universe, having
all power given him in heaven and earth, to that end that
he may promote their happiness ; being made head over all
things to the church, and having the government of the
whole creation for their good.* Christ mentions it, Mark
ii. 28. as the reason why the Son of man is made Lord of
the sabbath, because " the sabbath was made for man."
And if so, we may in like manner argue, that all things
were made for man, because the Son of man is made Lord
of all things.
5. That God uses the whole creation, in his government
of itf for the good of his people, is most elegantly repre
sented in Deut. xxxiii. 26. "There is none like unto the
God of Jeshurun, who rideth upon the heaven." The
whole universe is a machine, or chariot, which God hath
made for his own use, as is represented in Ezekiel's vision.
God's seat is heaven, where he sits and governs, Ezek. i.
22, 26 — 28. The inferior part of the creation, this visible
universe, subject to such continual changes and revolu-

• Eph. i. 20-

, John xvii. 2. Matt. xi. 27. and xxviii. 18, 19. John iii. 35.
I 2

tions, are the wheels of the chariot. God's providence, in
the constant revolutions, alterations, and successive events,
is represented by the motion of the wheels of the chariot,
by the spirit of him who sits on his throne on the heavens,
or above the firmament. Moses tells us for whose sake it
is, that God moves the wheels of this chariot, or rides in
it, sitting in his heavenly seat; and to what end he is
making his progress, or goes his appointed journey in it,
viz. the salvation of his people.
6. God's judgments on the wicked in this world, and
also their eternal damnation in the world to come, are
spoken of, as being for the happiness of God's people. So
are his judgments on them in this world. Isa. xhii. 3, 4.
" For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy
Saviour. I gave Egypt for thy ransom, Ethiopia and Seba
for thee. Since thou hast been precious in my sight, thou
hast been honourable, and I have loved thee ; therefore
will I give men for thee, and people for thy life." So
the works of God's vindictive justice and wrath are spoken
of as works of mercy to his people, Psal. cxxxvi. 10, 15,
17 — 20. And so is their eternal damnation in another
world. Rom. ix. 22, 23. " What if God, willing to show
his wrath and make his power known, endured with much
long-suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction :
ana that he might make known the riches of his glory on
the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto
glory." Here it is evident the last verse comes in, in con
nexion with the foregoing, as giving another reason of the
destruction of the wicked, viz. showing the riches of his
glory on the vessels of mercy : higher degrees of their glory
and happiness, in a relish of their own enjoyments, and a
greater sense of their value, and of God's free grace in be
stowing them.
7. It seems to argue, that God's goodness to them who
are to be the eternal subjects of his goodness, is the end of
the creation ; since the whole creation, in all its parts, is
spoken of as theirs. 1 Cor. iii. 22, 23. " All things are
yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world,
or life, or death, or things present, or things to come, all
are yours." The terms are very universal ; and both works
of creation and providence are mentioned ; and it is mani
festly the design of the apostle to be understood of everv
work of God whatsoever. Now, how can we understand
this any otherwise, than that all things are for their benefit ;
and that God made and uses all for their good ?
8. All God's works, both of creation and providence, are
represented as works of goodness er mercy to his people ;
as in the 136th psalm. His wonderful works in general.
Ver. 4. " To him who alone doth great wonders; for his
mercy endureth for ever." The works of creation in all its
parts. Ver. 5—9. " To him that by wisdom made the
heavens ; for his mercy endureth for ever. To him that
stretched out the earth above the waters ; for his mercy
endureth for ever. To him that made great lights; for his
mercy endureth for ever. The sun to rule by day ; for his
mercy endureth for ever. The moon and stars to rule by
night ; for his mercy endureth for ever." And God's works
of providence, in the following part of the psalm.
9. That expression in the blessed sentence pronounced
on the righteous at the day of judgment, " Inherit the king
dom prepared for you from the foundation of the world,"
seems to hold forth thus much, that the fruits of God's
goodness to them, was his end in creating the world, and
in his providential disposals : that God in all his works, in
laying the foundation of the world, and ever since the
foundation of it, had been preparing this kingdom and glory
for them.
10. Agreeable to this, the good of men is spoken of as an
ultimate end of the virtue of the moral world. Rom. xiii.
8, 9, 10. " He that loveth another hath fulfilled the law.
For this, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not
kill, &c— And if there be any other commandment, it is
briefly comprehended in this saying, Thou shalt love thy
neighbour as thyself. Love worketh no ill to his neigh
bour; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law" Gal.
v. 14. " All the law is fulfilled in one word, even in
this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." Jam. ii. 8.
" If ye fulfil the royal law, according to the scripture,

116

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II,

Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, thou shalt do
well." If the good of the aeature be one end of God in all he
does ; and in all he requires moral agents to do ; an end by
which they should regulate _11 their conduct ; these
things may be easily explained : but otherwise, it seems dif
ficult to be accounted for, that the Holy Ghost should thus
express himself. The Scripture represents it to be the spirit
of all true saints, to prefer the welfare of God's people to
their chief joy. This was the spirit of Moses and the pro
phets of old : the good of God's church was an end by which
they regulated all their conduct. And so it was with the
apostles. 2 Cor.iv. 15. " For all things are for your sakes."
2 Tim. ii. 10. " I endured all things for the elect's sake,
that they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ
Jesus, with eternal glory." And the Scriptures represent
it, as though every Christian should, in all he does, be em
ployed for the good of the church, as each particular mem
ber is employed for the good of the body ; Rom. xii. 4, 5,
&c. Eph. iv. 15, 16. 1 Cor. xii. 12, 25, &c. To this end,
the Scripture teaches us, the angels are continually em
ployed, Heb. i. 14.

SECT. VI.
Wherein is considered what is meant by the glory of God
and the name of God in Scripture, when spoken of as
God's end in his works.
Having thus considered, what are spoken of in the Holy
Scriptures, as theends which God had ultimately in view in the
creation of the world, I now proceed particularly to inquire
what they are, and how the terms are to be understood ?
I. Let us begin with the phrase, the glory of God —
And here I might observe, that it is sometimes used to sig
nify the second person in the Trinity ; but it is not neces
sary, at this time, to prove it from particular passages of
Scripture. Omitting this, I proceed to observe some things
concerning the Hebrew word (t__) which is most com
monly used in the Old Testamenl, where we have the
word glory in the English Bible. The root it comes
from, is either the verb, (-no) which signifies to be heavy,
or make heavy, or from the adjective (-n._) which signifies
heavy or weighty. These, as seems pretty manifest, are
the primary signification of these words, though they have
also other meanings, which seem to be derivative. The
noun (lira) signifies gravity, heaviness, greatness, and
abundance. Of very many places it will be sufficient to
specify a few. Prov. xxvii. 3. 2 Sam. xiv. 26. 1 Kings
xii. 11. Psal. xxxviii. 4. Isa. xxx. 27. And as the weight
of bodies arises from two things, density and magnitude ;
so we find the word used to signify dense, Exod. xix. 16.
("no ]3» nubes gravis, Vulg. densissima,) a dense cloud ; and
is very often used for great. Isa. xxxii. 2. Gen. v. 9. 1
Kings x. 2. 2 Kings vi. 14. and xviii. 17. Isa. xxxvi. 2. &c.
The Hebrew word (Tt_>) which is commonly translated
glory, is used in such a manner as might be expected from
this signification of the words from whence it comes.
Sometimes it is used to signify what is internal, inherent,
or in the possession of the person : and sometimes for
emanation, exhibition, or communication of this internal
glory : and sometimes for the knowledge, or sense of these,
in those to whom the exhibition or communication is
made ; or an expression of this knowledge, sense, or effect.
And here I would note, that agreeable to the use of this
word in the Old Testament, is the Greek word (3of_) in
the New. For as the word (f^.) is generally translated
by the just mentioned Greek word (Sofa) in the Septuagint ;
so it is apparent, that this word is designed to be used to
signify the same thing In the New Testament with the other
in the Old. This might be abundantly proved, by com-
Earing particular places of the Old Testament ; but pro-
ably it will not be denied. I therefore proceed particu
larly to consider these words, with regard to their use in
Scripture, in each of the fore-mentioned ways.
* Exod. xvi. 7. and xxviii. 2, 40. and iii. 8. Numb. xvi. 19. Deut. v. 24. and
xxviii. 58. 2 Sam. 6, 20. 1 Chron. xvi. 24. Esth. i. 4. Job xxix. 20. Psal. xix.
I. and xiv. 13. and Ixiii. 3. and lxvi. 3. and lxvii. 6. and lxxxvii. 3. and cii.
16. and cxlv. 5, 12, 13. Isa. iv. 2. and x. 18. and xvi. 40. and xxxv. 21. and
xl. 5. and Ix. 13. and Ixii. 2. Ezek. xxxi. 18. Hab. ii. 14. Hag. ii. 3, 9. Matt
\i. 29. and xvi. 27. and xxiv. 30. Luke ix. 31, 32. John i. 14. and ii. 11. and

1. The word glory denotes sometimes what is internal.
When the word is used to signify what is within, or in the
possession of the subject, it very commonly signifies ex
cellency, dignity, or worthiness of regard. This, according
to the Hebrew idiom, is, as it were, the weight of a thing,
as that by which it is heavy ; as to be tight, is to be
worthless, without value, contemptible. Numb. xxi. 5.
" This light bread." 1 Sam. xviii. 23. " Seemeth it a light
thing." Judg. ix. 4. " Light persons," i. e. worthless, vain,
vile persons. So Zeph. iii. 4. To set light by is to de
spise, 2 Sam. xix. 43. Belshazzar's vileness in the sight of
God, is represented by his being Tekel, weighed in the
balances and found light, Dan. v. 27. And as the weight
of a thing arises from its magnitude, and its specific gravity
conjunctly ; so the word glory is very commonly used to
signify the excellency of a person or a thing, as consisting
either in greatness, or in beauty, or in both conjunctly ; as
will abundantly appear by considering the places referred
to in the margin.*
Sometimes that internal, great and excellent good, which
is called glory, is rather in possession, than inherent. Any
one may be called heavy, that possesses an abundance ;
and he that is empty and destitute, may be called light.
Thus we find riches are sometimes called glory. Gen.
xxxi. 1. "And of that which was our fathers' hath he
gotten all this glory." Esth. v. 11. "Haman told them of
the glory of his riches." Psal. xlix. 16, 17. "Be not
afraid when one is made rich, when the glory of his house
is increased. For when he dieth, he shall carry nothing
away, his glory shall not descend after him." Nah. ii. 9.
"Take ye the spoil of silver, take the spoil of gold; for
there is none end of the store and glory out of the pleasant
furniture." And it is often put for a great height of prosperity, and
fulness of good in general. Gen. xiv. 13. "You shall tell
my father of all my glory in Egypt." Job xix. 9. " He
hath stripped me of my glory." Isa. x. 3. " Where will
you leave your glory." Ver. 16. "Therefore shall the
Lord of hosts send among his fat ones leanness, and
under his glory shall he kindle a burning, like the burning
of a fire." Isa. xvii. 3,4. "The kingdom shall cease from
Damascus, and the remnant of Syria ; they shall be as
the glory of the children of Israel. And in that day, it
shall come to pass, that the glory of Jacob shall be made
thin, and the fatness of his flesh shall be made lean."
Isa. xxi. 16. "And all the glory of Kedar shall fail."
Isa. lxi. 6. "Ye shall eat the riches of the Gentiles, and
in their glory shall ye boast yourselves." Chap. lxvi. 11,
12. "That ye may milk out, and be delighted with the
abundance of her glory.- — I will extend peace to her, like
a river, and the glory of the Gentiles like a flowing
stream." Hos. ix. 11. "As for Ephraim, their glory shall
fly away as a bird." Matt. iv. 8. "Showeth him all the
kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them." Luke
xxiv. 26. " Ought not Christ to have suffered these things,
and to enter into his glory?" John xvii. 22. "And the
glory which thou gayest me, have I given them." Rom.
v. 2. "And rejoice in hope of the glon/ of God." Chap.
viii. 18. "The sufferings of this present time, are not
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be re
vealed in us." (See also chap. ii. 7, 10. and iii. 23. and
ix. 23.) 1 Cor. ii. 7. "The hidden wisdom which God
ordained before the world, unto our glory." 2 Cor. iv.
17. " Worketh out for us a far more exceeding and
eternal weight of glory." Eph. i. 18. "And what the
riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints." 1 Pet.
iv. 13. "But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are made partakers of
Christ's sufferings ; that when his glory shall be revealed,
ye may be glad also with exceeding joy." Chap. i. 8.
"Ye rejoice, with joy unspeakable and full of glory." f
2. The word glory is used in Scripture often to express
the exhibition, emanation, or communication of the infernal
glory. Hence it often signifies an effulgence, or shining
brightness, by an emanation of beams of light. Thus the
brightness of the sun, and moon, and stars, is called their
xi. 40. Rom. vi. 4. 1 Cor. ii. 8. and xv. 40. 2 Cor. iii. 10. Eph. iii. 21. CoL i.
11.2 Thess. i. 9. Tit. ii. 13. 1 Pet. i. 24. 2 Pet. i. 17. .
t See also. Colos. i. 27. and iii. 4. 1 Thess. ii. 12. 2Thess. ii. 14. 1 Tim. iii.
16. 2 Tim. ii. 10. Heb. ii. 10. 1 Pet. i. 11, 21. and v. 10. 2 Pet i 3 Rev
xxi. 24, 26. Psal. lxxiii. 24. and cxlix. 5. Isa. vi. 10.

Sect. VI.

WHAT MEANT BY THE GLORY OF GOD, &c.

117

glory, in 1 Cor. xv. 41. But in particular, the word is
very often thus used, when applied to God and Christ. As
in Ezek. i. 28. " As the appearance of the bow that is in
the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appearance of the
.brightness round about. This was the appearance of the
likeness of the glory of the Lord." And chap. x. 4. " Then
the glory of the Lord went up from the cherub, and stood
• over the threshold of the house, and the house was filled
with the cloud, and the court was full of the brightness of
the Lord's glory." Isa. vi. 1, 2, 3. " I saw the Lord sitting
upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the
temple. Above it stood the seraphim — And one cried to
another and said, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts, the
whole earth is full of his glort/." Compared with John
xii. 41. " These things said Esaias, when he saw his glory
and spake of him." Ezek. xliii. 2. " And behold
the glory of the God of Israel came from the way of the
east.  And the earth shined with his glory." Isa. xxiv.
23. " Then the moon shall be confounded, and the sun
ashamed, when the Lord of hosts shall reign in mount
Zion, and in Jerusalem, and before his ancients gloriously. "
Isa. Ix. 1, 2. " Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the
tlory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For behold the
arkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the
people ; but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory
shall be seen upon thee." Together with verse 19. "The
sun shall be no more thy light by day, neither for
brightness shall the moon give light unto thee: but the
Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God
thy glory." Luke ii. 9. " The glory of the Lord shone round
about them." Acts xxii. 11. "And when I could not see
for the glory of that light." In 2 Cor. iii. 7. The shining of
Moses's face is called the glory of his countenance. And
to this Christ's glory is compared, verse 18. "But we all
with open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the
Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to
glory." And so chap. iv. 4. " Lest the light of the glori
ous gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should
shine unto them." Ver. 6. "For God, who commanded
the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts,
to give the light of 'the knowledge of the glory of God in
the face of Jesus Christ." Heb. i. 3. " Who is the bright
ness of his glory." The apostle Peter, speaking of that
emanation of exceeding brightness, from the bright cloud
that overshadowed the disciples in the mount of trans
figuration, and of the shining of Christ's face at that time,
says, 2 Pet. i. 17. " For he received from God the Father
honour and story, when there came such a voice to him
from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom
I am well pleased." Rev. xviii. 1. " Another angel came
down from heaven, having great power, and the earth was
lightened with his glory.'' Rev. xxi. 11. " Having the glory
of God, and her light was like unto a stone most precious,
like a jasper stone, clear as crystal." Ver. 23. " And the
city had no need of the sun nor of the moon to shine in
it ; for the glory of God did lighten it." See the word for
a visible, effulgence or emanation of light in the places to be
seen in the margin.'5
The word glory, as applied to God or Christ, sometimes
evidently signifies the communications of God's fulness, and
means much the same thing with God's abundant good
ness and grace. So Eph. iii. 16. " That he would grant
you, according to the riclies of his glory, to be strengthened
with might by his Spirit in the inner man." The expres
sion, " According to the riches of his glory," is apparent
ly equivalent to that in the same epistle, chap. i. 7. " Ac
cording to the riches of his grace." And chap, ii., 7.
" The exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness towards
us, through Christ Jesus." In like manner is the word
glory used in Phil. iv. 19. " But my God shall supply all
your need, according to his riches in glory, by Christ Je
sus." And Rom. ix. 23. " And that he might make known
the riches of his glory, on the vessels of his mercy." In
* Exod. xvi. 12. and xxiv. 16, 17, 23. and xl. 34, 35. Lev. ix. 6. 23. Num.
xiv. 10. and xvi. 19. 1 Kings viii. II. 2 Chron. v. 14. and vii. 1, 2, 3. Isa.
lviii. 8. Ezek. iii. 23. and viii. 4. and ix. 3. and x. 18, 19, and xi. 22, 23. and
xliii. 4, 5. and xliv. 4. Acts vii. 55. Rev. xv. 8.
t Dr. Goodwin observes, (Vol I. of his works, part 2d, page 166.) that
riches of grace are called riches of glory in Scripture. " The Scripture,"
says he, " speaks of riches of glory in Eph. iii. 6. That lie would grant
you according to the riches of his glory ; yet eminently mercy is there in
tended : for it is that which God bestows, and which the apostle there

this and the foregoing verse, the apostle speaks of God's
making known two things, his great wrath, and his rich
grace. The former on the vessels of wrath, ver. 22. The
latter, which he calls the riches of his glory, on the vessels
of mercy, ver. 23. So when Moses says, " I beseech thee
show me thy glory ;" God granting his request, makes
answer, " 1 will make all my goodness to pass before thee."
Exod. xxxiii. 18, 19.+
What we find in John xii. 23 — 32. is worthy of parti
cular notice in this place. The words and behaviour of
Christ, of which we have here an account, argue two things.
(1.) That the happiness and salvation of men, was an
end that Christ ultimately aimed at in his labours and suf
ferings. The very same things which were observed before,
(chapter second, section third,) concerning God's glory, are
in the same manner observable, concerning the salvation of
men. Christ, in the near approach of the most extreme
difficulties which attended his undertaking, comforts him
self in a certain prospect of obtaining the glory of God, as
his great end. And at the same time, and exactly in the
same manner, is the salvation of men mentioned, as the
end of these great labours and sufferings, which satisfied
his soul in the prospect of undergoing them. (Compare
the 23rd and 24th verses ; and also the 28th and 29th
verses ; ver. 31 and 32.)
(2.) The glory of God, and the emanations and fruits of
his grace in man's salvation, are so spoken of by Christ on
this occasion in just the same manner, that it would be
quite unnatural to understand him as speaking of two dis
tinct things. Such is the connexion, that what he says of
the latter, must most naturally be understood as exegetical
of the former. He first speaks of his own glory, and the
glory of his Father, as the great end that should be ob
tained by what he was about to suffer ; and then explains
and amplifies this, in what he expresses of the salvation of
men that shall be obtained by it. Thus, in the 23d verse,
he says, " The hour is come that the Son of man should
be glorified." And in what next follows, he evidently
shows how he was to be glorified, or wherein his glory con
sisted : " Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of
wheat fall into the ground, and die, it abideth alone; but
if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." As much fruit is
the gloiy of the seed, so is the multitude of redeemed
ones, which should spring from his death, his glory. J So
concerning the glory of his Father, in the 27th and follow
ing verses. " Now is my soul troubled, and what shall 1
say ? Father, save me from this hour ! But for this cause
came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name. Then
came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glori
fied it, and will glorify it again." In an assurance of this,
which this voice declared, Christ was greatly comforted,
and his soul even exulted under the view of his approach
ing sufferings. And what this glory was, in which Christ's
soul was so comforted on this occasion, his own words
plainly show. When the people said, it thundered ; and
others said, an angel spake to him ; then Christ tells them
what this voice meant. Ver. 30 — 32. " Jesus answered
and said, This voice came not because of me, but for your
sakes. Now is the judgment of this world ; now shall the
prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up
from the earth, will draw all men unto me." By this be
haviour and these speeches of our Redeemer, it appears,
that the expressions of divine grace, in the sanctification
and happiness of the redeemed, are especially that glory of
his, and his Father, which was the joy that was set before
him, for which he endured the cross, and despised the
shame: and that this glory especially was the end of the
travail of his soul, in obtaining which end he was satisfied.
(Isa. liii. 10, 11.)
This is agreeable to what has been just observed, of
God's glory being so often represented by an effulgence, or
emanation, or communication of light, from a luminary or
fountain of light. What can so naturally and aptly repre-
prayeth for. And he calls his mercy there his glory, as elsewhere he
doth, as being the most eminent excellency in God.— That in Rom. ix. 22,
23. compared, is observable. In the 22d verse, where the apostle speaks
of God's making known the power of his wrath, saith he, Bod willing to
show his wrath, and make his power known. But in verse 3d, when he
comes to speak of mercy, he saith, That he might make known the riches
of his glory on the vessels of mercy."
J Here may be remembered what was before observed of the church.
being so often spoken of as the glory and fulness of Christ.

118

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II.

sent the emanation of the internal glory of God; or the
flowing forth and abundant communication of that infinite
fulness of good that is in God 1 Light is very often in
Scripture,put for comfort, joy, happiness, and for good in
general.* 3. Again, the word g lory, as applied to God in Scripture,
implies" the view or knowledge of God's excellency. The
exhibition of glory is to the view of beholders. The mani
festation of glory, the emanation or effulgence of brightness,
has relation to the eye. Light or brightness is a quality
that has relation to the sense of seeing ; we see the luminary
by its light. And knowledge is often expressed in Scripture
by light. The word glory very often in Scripture signifies,
or implies, honour, as any one may soon see by casting his
eye on a concordance.-)- But honour implies the knowledge
of the dignity and excellency of him who hath the honour ;
and this is often more especially signified by the word
glory, when applied to God. Num. xiv. 21 . " But as truly
as 1 live, all the earth shall be filled with the glory of the
Lord," i. e. All the inhabitants of the earth shall see the
manifestations I will make of my perfect holiness and
hatred of sin, and so of my infinite excellence. This
appears by the context. So Ezek. xxxix. 21,22, 23. "And
I will set my glory among the heathen, and all the heathen
shall see my judgment that I have executed, and my hand
that I have laid upon them. So the house of Israel shall
know that I am the Lord their God. And the heathen
shall know that the house of Israel Went into captivity for
their iniquity." And it is manifest in many places, where
we read of God glorifying himself, or of his being glorified,
that one thing, directly intended, is making known his
divine greatness and excellency.
4.. Again, glory, as the word is used in Scripture, often
signifies or implies praise. This appears from what was
observed before, that glory very often signifies honour,
which is much the same thing with praise, viz. high esteem
and the expression of it in words and actions. And it is
manifest that the words glory and praise, are often used as
equivalent expressions in Scripture. Psal. 1. 23. " Whoso
offereth praise, glorifieth me." Psal. xxii. 23. " Ye that
fear the Lord, praise him ; all ye seed of Israel, glorify
him." Isa. xiii. 8. " My glory I will not give unto another,
nor my praise to graven images." Ver. 12. " Let them
give glory unto the Lord, and declare his praise in the
islands." Isa. xl viii. 9—11. " For my name's sake will I
defer mine anger ; for my praise will I refrain for thee. —
For mine own sake will I do it ; for  1 will not give my
glory unto another." Jer. xiii. 11. " That they might be
unto me for a people, and for a name, and for a praise, and
for a glory." Eph. i. 6. " To the praise of the glory of his
grace." Ver. 12. "To the praise of his glory." So ver.
14. The phrase is apparently equivalent to this, Phil. i. 11.
" Which are by Jesus Christ unto the praise and glory of
God." 2 Cor. iv. 15. " That the abundant grace might,
through the thanksgiving of many, redound to the glory of
It is manifest the praise of God, as the phrase is used in
Scripture, implies the high esteem and love of the heart,
exalting thoughts of God, and complacence in his excel
lence and perfection. This is manifest to every one ac
quainted with the Scripture. However, if any need satis
faction, they may, among innumerable other places which
might be mentioned, turn to those in the margin.J
It also implies joy in God, or rejoicing in his perfections,
as is manifest by Psal. xxxiii. 2. " Rejoice in the Lord, O
ye righteous, for praise is comely for the upright." Other
passages to the same purpose, see in the margin. § How
often do we read of singing praise ! But singing is com
monly an expression of joy. It is called, making a joyful
noise. ||. And as it is often used, it implies gratitude orlove
to God for his benefits to us.^T
* Isa. vi. 3. — " Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is
full of his glory." In the original, His glory is the fulness of the whole
earth: which signifies much more than the words of the translation. God's
glory, consisting especially in his holiness, is that, in the sight or communi
cations of which man's fulness, i. e. bis holiness and happiness, consists.
By God,s glory here, there seems to be respect to those effulgent beams that
filled the temple : these beams signifying God's glory shining forth and com
municated. This effulgence or communication, is the fulness of all intelli
gent creatures, who have no fulness of their own.
t See particularly, Heb. iii. 3
J Psal cxlv. 1.— 12. and xxxiv. 1, 2,3, and xliv. 8. and xxi 14, 15. and

II. Having thus considered what is implied in the
phrase, the gurry of God, as we find it used in Scripture ; I
proceed to inquire what is meant by the name of God.
God's name sad his glory, at least very often, signify the
same thing in Scripture. As it has been observed concern
ing the glory of God, that it sometimes signifies the second
person in the Trinity ; the same might be shown of thename
of God, if it were needful in this place. But that the name
and glory of God are often equipollent expressions, is ma
nifest by Exod. xxxiii. 18, 19. When Moses says, " I
beseech thee, show me thy glory," and God grants his re
quest, he says, " I will proclaim the name of the Lord be
fore thee." Psal. viii. 1. " O Lord, how excellent is thy
name in all the earth ! who hast set thy glory above the
heavens," Psal. lxxix. 9. " Help us ! O God of our salva
tion, for the glory of thy name ; and deliver us, and purge
away our sins for thy name's sake." Psal. cii. 15. " So the
heathen shall fear the name of the Lord ; and all the kings
of the earth thy glory." Psal. cxlviii. 13. " His name
alone is excellent, and his glory is above the earth and
heaven." Isa. xlviii. 9. " For my name's sake will I defer
mine anger, and for my praise will I refrain for thee." Ver.
11." For mine own sake, even for mine own sake will I do
it : for how should my name be polluted ? And I will not
give my glory unto another." Isa. lix. 19. " They shall
fear the name of the Lord from the west, and his glory from
the rising of the sun." Jer. xiii. 11." That they might be
unto me for a name, and for a praise, and for a glory." As
glory often implies the manifestation, publication, and
knowledge of excellency, and the honour that any one has in
the world ; so does name. Gen. xi. 4. " Let us make us a
name." Deut. xxvi. 19. " And to make thee high above all
nations, in praise, in name, and in honour." **
So it is evident, that by name is sometimes meant much
the same thing as praise, by several places which have
been just mentioned, (as Isa. xlviii. 9. Jer. xiii. 11. Deut.
xxvi. 19.) And also by Jer. xxxiii. 9. " And it shall be
unto me for a name, a praise, and an honour, before all the
nations of the earth, which shall hear of all the good I do
unto them." Zeph. iii. 20. " I will make you a name and
a praise among all people of the earth.*'
And it seems that the expression or exhibition of God's
goodness is especially called his name, in Exod. xxxiii. 19.
" I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will
proclaim the name of the Lord before thee." And chap.
xxxiv. 5, 6, 7. "And the Lord descended in the cloud,
and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the
Lord. And the Lord passed by before him, and pro
claimed, The Lord, the Lord God, gracious and merciful,
long-suffering and abundant in goodness and truth ; keep
ing mercy for thousands," &c.
And the same illustrious brightness and effulgence in the
pillar of cloud that appeared in the wilderness, and dwelt
above the mercy-seat in the tabernacle and temple, (or
rather the spiritual, divine brightness and effulgence repre
sented by it,) so often called the glory of the Lord, is also
often called the name of the Lord. Because God's glory
was to dwell in the tabernacle, therefore he promises, Exod.
xxix. 43. " There will I meet with the children of Israel,
and the tabernacle shall be sanctified by my glory." And
the temple was called the house of God's glory, Isa. Ix. 7.
In like manner, the name of God is said to dwell in the
sanctuary. Thus we often read of the place that God
chose, to put his name there : or, as it is in the Hebrew, to
cause his name to inhabit there. So it is sometimes ren
dered by our translators. As Deut. xii. 11. " Then there
shall be a place which the Lord your God shall choose to
cause his name to dwell there." And the temple is often
spoken of as built for God's name. And in Psal. lxxiv. 7.
the temple is called the dwelling-place of God's name. The
mercy-seat in the temple was called the throne of God's
xcix. 2,3. and cvii. 31,32. and cviii. 3, 4, 5. and cxix. 164. and cxlviii. 13. and
cl. 2. Rev. xix. 1.2.3. 
§ Psal. ix. 1, 2, 14. and xxviii. 7. and xxxv. 27, 28. and xiii. 4. and lxiii. 5.
and Ixvii. 3, 4, 5. and Ixxi. 22, 23. and civ. 33, 34. and cvi. 47. and exxxv. 3.
and cxlvii. 1. and cxlix. 1, 2,5,6. Acts ii. 46, 47. and iii. 8. Rev. xix. 6,7.
II Psal. lxvi. 1, 2. and xcvi. 4, 5.
IF Psal. xxx. 12. and xxxv. 18. and lxiii. 3, 4. and lxvi. 8, 9. and lxxi. 6, 7,8.
and lxxix. 13. and xcviii. 4, 5. and c. 4. and cvii. 21,22. and exxxviii. & And
many other places.
* * See also, 2 Sam. vii. 9. and viii. 13. and xxiii. 18. Neh. ix. 10. Job xxx. &
Prov. xxii. 1 . Many other places import the same thing.

Sect. VII.

GOD'S LAST END IS BUT ONE.

119

name or glory, Jer. xiv. 21. "Do not abhor us, for thy
name's sake do not disgrace the throne of thy glory." Here
God's name and his glory seem to be spoken of as the same.

SECT. VII,
Showing that the ultimate end of the creation of the world
is but one, and what that one end is.
From what has been observed in the last section, it ap
pears, if the whole of what is said relating to this affair be
duly weighed, and one part compared with another, we
shall have reason to think, that the design of the Spirit of
God is not to represent God's ultimate end as manifold,
but as one. For though it be signified by various names,
yet they appear not to be names of different things, but
various names involving each other in their meaning;
either different names of the same thing, or names of several
parts of one whole ; or of the same whole viewed in various
lights or in its different respects and relations. For it ap
pears, that all that is ever spoken of in the Scripture as an
ultimate end of God's works, is included in that one
phrase, the glory of God ; which is the name by which the
ultimate end of God's works is most commonly called in
Scripture ; and seems most aptly to signify the thing.
The thing signified by that name, the glory of God,
when spoken of as the supreme and ultimate end of all
God's works, is the emanation and true external expression
of God's internal glory and fulness ; meaning by his ful
ness what has already been explained ; or, in other words,
God's internal glory, in a true and just exhibition, or ex
ternal existence of it. It is confessed, that there is a de
gree of obscurity in these definitions ; but perhaps an ob
scurity which is unavoidable, through the imperfection of
language to express things of so sublime a nature. And
therefore the thing may possibly be better understood, by
using a variety of expressions, by a particular consideration
of it, as it were, by parts, than by any short definition.
It includes the exercise of God's perfections to produce
a proper effect, in opposition to their lying eternally dor
mant and ineffectual : as his power being eternally with
out any act or fruit of that power ; his wisdom eternally
ineffectual in any wise production, or prudent disposal of
any thing, &c. The manifestation of his internal glory to
created understandings. The communication of the in
finite fulness of God to the creature. The creature's high
esteem of God, love to him, and complacence and joy in
him ; and the proper exercises and expressions of these.
These at first view may appear to be entirely distinct
things : but if we more closely consider the matter, they
will all appear to be one thing, in a variety of views and
relations. They are all but the emanation of God's glory ;
or the excellent brightness and fulness of the divinity dif
fused, overflowing, and as it were enlarged; or in one
word, existing ad extra. God exercising his perfection to
produce a proper effect, is not distinct from the emanation
or communication of his fulness: for this is the effect, viz.
his fulness communicated, and the producing of this effect is
the communication of his fulness ; and there is nothing in
this effectual exerting of God's perfection, but the emana
tion of God's internal glory.
Now God's internal glory, is either in his understand
ing or will. The glory or fulness of his understanding, is
his knowledge. The internal glory and fulness of God,
having its special seat in his will, is his holiness and hap
piness. The whole of God's internal good or glory, is in
these three things, viz. his infinite knowledge, his infinite
virtue or holiness, and his infinite joy and happiness. In
deed there are a great many attributes in God, according
to our way of conceiving them : but all may be reduced
to these; or to their degree, circumstances, and relations.
We have no conception of God's power, different from the
degree of these things, with a certain relation of them to
effects. God's infinity is not properly a distinct kind of
* It is used to signify knowledge, or that manifestation and evidence by
wbich knowledge is received. Psal. xix. 8. and cxix. 105, 130. Prov. vi.
23. Isa. viii. 20. and ix. 2. and xxix. 18. Dan. v. 11. Eph. v. 13. " But all
things that are reproved, are made manifest by the light ; for whatsoever
doth make manifest, is light," _c.
, It is used to signify virtue, or moral good. Job xxv. 5. Eccl. viii. 1. Isa.

good, but only expresses the degree of good there is in him.
So God's eternity is not a distinct good ; but is the dura
tion of good. His immutability is still the same good,
with a negation of change. So that, as I said, the ftlness
of the Godhead is the fulness of his understanding, consist
ing in his knowledge ; and the fulness of his will consist
ing in his virtue and happiness.
And therefore, the external glory of God consists in the
communication of these. The communication of his know
ledge is chiefly in giving the knowledge of himself: for
this is the knowledge in which the fulness of God's un
derstanding chiefly consists. And thus we see how the
manifestation of God's glory to created understandings,
and their seeing and knowing it, is not distinct from an
emanation or communication of God's fulness, but clearly
implied in it. Again, the communication of God's virtue
or holiness, is principally in communicating the love of
himself. And thus we see how, not only the creature s
seeing and knowing God's excellence, but also supremely
esteeming and loving him, belongs to the communication
of God's fulness. And the communication of God's joy
and happiness, consists chiefly in communicating to the
creature that happiness and joy which consists in rejoicing
in God, and in his glorious excellency ; for in such joy
God's own happiness does principally consist. And in
these things, knowing God's excellency, loving God for it,
and rejoicing in it, and in the exercise and expression of
these, consists God's honour and praise ; so that these are
clearly implied in that glory of God, which consists in the
emanation of his internal glory.
And though all these things, which seem to be so various,
are signified by that glory, which the Scripture speaks of as
the ultimate end of all God's works ; yet it is manifest
there is no greater, and no other variety in it, than in the
internal and essential glory of God itself. God's internal
glory is partly in his understanding, and partly in his will.
And this internal glory, as seated in the will of God, im
plies both his holiness and his happiness : both are evi
dently God's glory, according to the use of the phrase. So
that as God's external glory is only the emanation of his
internal, this variety necessarily follows. And again, it
hence appears that here is no other variety or distinction,
but what necessarily arises from the distinct faculties of
the creature, to which the communication is made, as
created in the image of God : even as having these two
faculties of understanding and will. God communicates
himself to the understanding of the creature, in giving him
the knowledge of his glory ; and to the will of the crea
ture, in giving him holiness, consisting primarily in the love
of God : and in giving the creature happiness, chiefly con
sisting in joy in God. These are the sum of that emana
tion of divine fulness called in Scripture, the glory of God.
The first part of this glory is called truth, the latter, grace,
John i. 14. " We beheld his story, the glory of the only-
begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth."
Thus we see that the great end of God's works, which is
so variously expressed in Scripture, is indeed but one ; and
this one end is most properly and comprehensively called,
the glory of god ; by which name it is most commonly
called in Scripture ; and is fitly compared to an effulgence
or emanation of light from a luminary. Light is the ex
ternal expression, exhibition, and manifestation of the ex
cellency of the luminary, of the sun for instance : It is the
abundant, extensive emanation and communication of the
fulness of the sun to innumerable beings that partake of it.
It is by this that the sun itself is seen, and his glory be
held, and all other things are discovered : it is by a par
ticipation of this communication from the sun, that sur
rounding objects receive all their lustre, beauty, and bright
ness. It is by this that all nature receives life, comfort,
and joy. Light is abundantly used in Scripture to repre
sent and signify these three things, knowledge, holiness,
and happiness.*
What has been said may be sufficient to show, how
those things, which are spoken of in Scripture as ultimate
v. 20. and xxiv. 23. and lxii. I. Ezek. xxviii. 7, 17. Dan. ii. 31. 1 John. i. 5,
&c. And it is abundantly used to signify comfort, .joy, and happiness. Esth.viii.
16. Job xviii. 8. and xxii. 28. and xxix, 3. and xxx. 26. Psal. xxvii. 1. and
xcvii. 11. and cxviii. 27. and cxii. 4. Isa. xliii. 16. and 1. 10. and lix. 9. Jer.
xiii. 16. Lam. iii. Ezek. xxxii. 8. Amos v. 18. Mic. vii. 8, 9, _c.

120

GOD'S CHIEF END IN CREATION.

Chap. II.

ends of God's works, though they may seem at first view
to be distinct, are all plainly to be reduced to this one
thing, viz. God's internal glory or fulness existing in its
emanation. And though God, in seeking this end, seeks
the creature's good ; yet therein appears his supreme re
gard to himself.
The emanation or communication of the divine fulness,
consisting in the knowledge of God, love to him, and joy
in him, has relation indeed both to God and the creature :
but it has relation to God as its fountain, as the thing com
municated is something of its internal fulness. The water
in the stream is something of the fountain ; and the beams
of the sun are something of the sun. And again, they
have relation to God as their object : for the knowledge
communicated, is the knowledge of God ; and the love
communicated, is the love of God; and the happiness
communicated, is joy in God. In the creature's knowing,
esteeming, loving, rejoicing in, and praising God, the glory
of God is both exhibited and acknowledged; his fulness is
received and returned. Here is both an emanation and re-
manution. The refulgence shines upon and into the crea
ture, and is reflected back to the luminary. The beams of
glory come from God, are something of God, and are
refunded back again to their original. So that the whole
is of God, and in God, and to God ; and he is the begin
ning, and the middle, and the end.
And though it be true that God has respect to the
creature in these things ; yet his respect to himself, and to
the creature, are not properly a double and divided respect.
What has been said, (chap. I. sect. 3, 4.) may be sufficient
to show this. Nevertheless, it may not be amiss here
briefly to say a few things ; though mostly implied in what
has been said already.
When God was about to create the world, he had respect
to that emanation of his glory, which is actually the conse
quence of the creation, both with regard to himself and the
creature. He had regard to it as an emanation from him
self, a communication of himself, and, as the thing com
municated, in its nature returned to himself, as its final
term. And he had regard to it also as the emanation was
to the creature, and as the thing communicated was in the
creature, as its subject.
And God had regard to it in this manner, as he had a
supreme regard to himself, and value for his own infinite,
internal glory. It was this value for himself that caused
him to value and seek that his internal glory should_?o«i
forth from himself. It was from his value for his glorious
perfections of wisdom, righteousness, &c. that he valued
the proper exercise and effect of these perfections, in wise
and righteous acts and effects. -It was from his infinite
value for his internal glory and fulness, that he valued the
thing ifscZ/'communicated, which is something of the same,
extant in the creature. Thus, because he infinitely values
his own glory, consisting in the knowledge of himself, love
to himself, and complacence and joy in himself; he there
fore valued the image, communication, or participation of
these in the creature. And it is because he values himself,
that he delights in the knowledge, and love, and joy of the
creature ; as being himself the object of this knowledge,
love, and complacence. For it is the necessary conse
quence of true esteem and love, that we value others'
esteem of the same object, and dislike the contrary. For
the same reason, God approves of others' esteem and love
of himself.
Thus it is easy to conceive, how God should seek the
good of the creature, consisting in the creature's know
ledge and holiness, and even his happiness, from a su
preme regard to himself; as his happiness arises from that
which is an image and participation of God's own beauty ;
and consists in the creature's exercising a supreme regard
to God, and complacence in him ; in beholding God's
glory, in esteeming and loving it, and rejoicing in it, and
in his exercising and testifying love and supreme respect
to God : which is the same thing with the creature's ex
alting God as his chief good, and making him his supreme
end. And though the emanation of God's fulness, intended
in the creation, is to the creature as its object ; and though
the creature is the subject of the fulness communicated,
which is the creature's good ; yet it does not necessarily

follow, that even in so doing, God did not make himself.
his end. It comes to the sarpe thing. God's respect to
the creature's good, and his respect to himself, is not a
divided respect ; but both are united in one, as the happi
ness of the creature aimed at is happiness in union with
himself. The creature is no further happy with this hap
piness which God makes his ultimate end, than he becomes
one with God. The more happiness the greater union :
when the happiness is perfect, the union is perfect. And
as the happiness will be increasing to eternity, the union
will become more and more strict and perfect ; nearer and
more like to that between God the Father and the Son ;
who are so united, that their interest is perfectly one. If
the happiness of the creature be considered in the whole
of the creature's eternal duration, with all the infinity of
its progress, and infinite increase of nearness and union to
God ; in this view, the creature must be looked upon as
united to God in an infinite strictness.
If God has respect to something in the creature, which
he views as of everlasting duration, and as rising higher
and higher through that infinite duration, and that not
with constantly diminishing (but perhaps an increasing)
celerity ; then he has respect to it, as, in the whole, of
infinite height ; though there never will be any particular
time when it can be said already to have come to such a
height. Let the most perfect union with God be represented by
something at an infinite height above us ; and the eternally
increasing union of the saints with God, by something
that is ascending constantly towards that infinite height,
moving upwards with a given velocity ; and that is to
continue thus to move to all eternity. God, who views
the whole of this eternally increasing height, views it as
an infinite height. And if he has respect to it, and makes
it his end, as in the whole of it, he has respect to it as an
infinite height, though the time will never come when it
can be said it has already arrived at this infinite height.
God aims at that which the motion or progression which
he causes, aims at, or tends to. If there be many things
supposed to be so made and appointed, that, by a constant
eternal motion, they all tend to a certain centre ; then it
appears that he who made them, and is the cause of their
motion, aimed at that centre ; that term of their motion, to
which they eternally tend, and are eternally, as it were,
striving after. And if God be this centre, then God
aimed at himself. And herein it appears, that as he is the
first author of their being and motion, so he is the last end,
the final term, to which is their ultimate tendency and aim.
We may judge of the end that the Creator aimed at, in
the being, nature, and tendency he gives the creature, by
the mark or term which they constantly aim at in their
tendency and eternal progress ; though the time will never
come, when it can be said it is attained to, in the most
absolutely perfect manner.
But if strictness of union to God be viewed as thus in
finitely exalted ; then the creature must be regarded as
nearly and closely united to God. . And viewed thus,
their interest must be viewed as one with God's interest ;
and so is not regarded properly with a disjunct and sepa
rate, but an undivided respect. And as to any -difficulty
of reconciling God's not making the creature his ultimate
end, with a respect properly distinct from a respect to
himself; with his benevolence and free grace, and the
creature's obligation to gratitude, the reader must be re
ferred to chap. I. sect. 4. obj. 4. where this objection has
been considered and answered at large.
If by reason of the strictness of the union of a man and
his family, their interest may be looked upon as one, how
much more so is the interest of Christ and his church,—
whose first union in heaven is unspeakably more perfect
and exalted, than that of an earthly father and his family
 if they be considered with regard to their eternal and
increasing union ? Doubtless it may justly be esteemed
so much one, that it may be sought, not with a distinct
and separate, but an undivided respect. It is certain that
what God aimed at in the creation of the world, was the
good that would be the consequence of the creation, in
the whole continuance of the thing created.
It is no solid otjjection against God aiming at an in
finitely perfect union of the creature with himself, that the

Sect. VII.

GOD'S LAST END IS BUT ONE.

121

particular time will never come when it can be said, the
union is now infinitely perfect. God aims at satisfying
justice in the eternal damnation of sinners ; which will be
satisfied by their damnation, considered no otherwise than
with regard to its eternal duration. But yet there never
will come that particular moment, when it can be said,
that now justice is satisfied. But if this does not satisfy
our modern free-thinkers who do not like the talk about
* Our author has produced, from the purest principles of reason, and the
fountain of revealed truth, abundant evidence, that God's ultimate and
chief end in the creation of the universe, in the operations of providence,
and' in the methods of salvation, is his own glory. But we do not think it
superfluous to add a few observations on this important subject.
1. A clear and comprehensive view of the universe, or what our author
calls " the world," will lead us to observe two grand divisions, which may
be termed physical and moral. And though in both the glory of Ood is the
chief end, yet this end is not attained by the same means in the moral as
in the physical department
2.' By the creation and disposal of the physical part of the universe, the
glory of God's natural perfections, as of sovereign wisdom, power, and
goodness, is chiefly displayed. But by the creation and government of the
moral part, the glory of the moral perfections of Deity, that is, of infinite
moral rectitude, or equity, and of sovereign benevolence and mercy, is
made to appear.
3. God being an infinite sovereign, controlled by no consideration but in
finite rectitude, or a regard to the consistency of his own character ; and a
created universe being capable of two forms, and it should seem, for ought
that appears to the contrary, of two only, physical and moral ; a full
emanation and display ad extra of the moral perfections of Deity could
not be made without a moral system in all its capabilities of relation.
4. The physical part of the universe, even including the physical opera
tions of intelligent beings, may subsist, it is evident, without requiring any
other display of gloky than what is included in sovereign wisdom, power,
and goodness; and it is equally plain, that there would De no opportunity
of manifesting strict equity, much less mercy, to existent beings, without a
moral system. Therefore,
5. If strict or absolute equity, and sovereign mercy, be manifested, a
moral system was necessary. To exercise strict, unmixed, or absolute
equity, whereby is given to its object what is due to it, (a capacity for moral
agency being supposed,) and yet to preserve that object, that is, a moral
agent, from being liable to sin, involves a contradiction. For it is the same
as to say, a free agent is not free to sin, though fully permitted to follow his
own tendencies. And this is the same thing as to say, an accountable
creature is not liable to fail; in other words, a moral agent is no moral
agent, and a moral system is no moral system. Man would be impeccable,
and the very existence of sin impossible.
6. If it be asked, might not the whole of the moral part of the universe
have been preserved from sin ? We reply, undoubtedly it might ; if
sovereign benevolence had thought proper to interpose, in order to coun
teract the exercise of strict, unmixed, and absolute rectitude or equity ;
but then it must have been at the expense of eternally concealing the
glory of this divine perfection, — absolute rectitude.
7. To permit the creature to sin, and to exercise absolute equity, is the
same thing ; in other words, to exercise this glorious perfection, and not to
permit the creature to sin, are incompatible ideas. If this perfection be
exercised, there is, there can be, no principle belonging to a moral system,
which preserves it from being liable to sin. Nor is there any principle be
longing to it independent of sovereign benevolence, which is adequate to
preserve that liability to sin from actual defection. But to appeal, in the
way of objection, to the alternative of sovereign benevolence, which alone
can preserve from sin, is the same as to concede what the proposition
asserts. 8. Equity, in one view of it, is indeed compatible with the exercise of
sovereign benevolence towards the same object, and at the same time. To
question this, would be to question God's proper sovereignty, and therefore
his right of creating and preserving the universe, and of beatifying any
creatures he hath made. For neither of these effects could take place but
by sovereign benevolence as a cause. But if sovereign benevolence were
not compatible with justice, or equity, in one view of it, God could not be
benevolent without being unjust, which is absurd.
9. Yet equity, in another view, stands as a contrast to benevolence.
Strict or absolute equity, is that which excludes all sovereign, benevolent
influence ; and when moral agents are its object, (their being and natural
capacities, or their moral capabilities, being supposed,) the exercise of ab
solute equity must necessarily exclude benevolent, sovereign influence.
Thus among men we find some resemblance of this abstract but momentous
truth. In one view, justice and generosity are compatible ; while one deals
justly with another, he may also be additionally generous. But in another
view, these are incompatible ; for strict, absolute justice, is the same as
justice and nothing more, and therefore must exclude generosity.
• 10. Therefore, equity, in the one view, implies the exclusion of i?ijustice ,*
and in the other, the exclusion of undeserved favour, or sovereign benevo
lent influence. The exercise of rectitude in the former sense, might have
been without the permission of sin ; but not so in the latter sense. If per
fect absolute rectitude towards a moral system, be made to emanate ad
extra, to the full developement of the capabilities of such a system, the
permission of sin is not only eqiiitable, but even metaphysically necessary.
That is, it involves a contradiction to say, that such a divine perfection

satisfying justice with an infinite punishment ; I suppose
it will not be denied by any, that God, in glorifying the
saints in heaven with eternal felicity, aims to satisfy his,
infinite grace or benevolence, by the bestowment of a good
infinitely valuable, because eternal : and yet there^ never
will come the moment, when it can be said, that now this
infinitely valuable good has been actually bestowed.*

may be so displayed, or its glory made to appear ad extra, and yet not to
permit the existence of moral defect, or, in other words, to actually hinder
its existence.
11. The very idea of a moral system, in which the permission of defect
is excluded by equity, is one of the most absurd that can be conceived.
For it is the same as to say that God was bound in equity not to permit sin,
while at the same time he constituted the agent free, and accountable for
the exercise of his freedom; and as he has \n fact permitted the introduc
tion of sin into the world, such an idea would be the same as to charge
infinite perfection with want of equity.
12. We may therefore safely conclude, that the glory of the divine
rectitude, towards the intelligent and moral part of the universe, considered
as accountable, and to the full extent of its moral capabilities, could not be
manifested without the permission of sin. The full exercise of equity must
necessarily leave the moral system to its own tendencies and operations.
13. To permit the event of sin, or not to hinder it, implies, that the cause
of defection is not in the permitter, but in the permitted ; not in the
governor, but the governed. There is in the moral part of the universe a
cause, why an event which ought not to take place, will take place, if not
hindered. If there be no such cause in the system, how could the event
take place on permission 'f If it be said. There is a chance it may not ake
place, and there is a chance of the contrary— it is but fair to ask. Is this
chance something which has a cause, or has it no cause ? If the latter, the
concession itself reduces chance to a mere nothing. For a contingent event,
as the operation of chance is supposed to be, without any en use, is a meta
physical impossibility. If the former ; what is the cause of what the ob
jector calls chance ? 'is it something external, or internal ? What is its nature
and character? To say that liberty of indifference, or a self-determining
power, is the chance which requires no preceding cause to produce the
event, is to contradict absolute demonstration, if ever there was a meta
physical demonstration of any subject ; as our author has abundantly shown
m his " Essay on the Freedom of the Will."
14. It is therefore inaccurate and unintelligible language to say, that either
chance, liberty of indifference, or a self-determining power, independent
of any antecedent cause, is adequate to account for the event of sin, or a
deterioration of a moral system. God, therefore, permitting, there is an
inherent adequate cause of failure, distinct from divine causation. What
this cause is, and what is its nature, has been shown and proved in a former
note. 15. Permission is an act of equity ; or, it is the exercise of rectitude, to
the exclusion of benevolent influence ; whether we regard that influence as
preventing the event of sin, or as delivering from its power. Sovereign
benevolence prevents the fall of angels; and it delivers, restores, and
eternally saves a goodly number of the human fallen race. Without the
permission of sin, restoring benevolence, or the exercise of mercy, would
have been impossible ; and consequently, the glory of that perfection,
which can be fully displayed only by its exercise towards the miserable,
would have been eternally concealed.
16. If, therefore, equity be a glorious attribute of God, its emanation
and exercise must be glorious. But the exercise of equity, in the strict
sense, includes the permission of sin, as before proved. And, here we may
add, if not to hinder be an exercise of strict rectitude, the continued exist
ence of sin is not inconsistent with it.
17. It will be allowed by every one, that, as mercy itself is a glorious
attribute, so is the exercise of it a glorious thing. But this would have been
impossible, if sin had no existence ; nor could sin have had existence, if
not permitted to exist ; and sin could not have been permitted, if strict
equity had not been exercised ; nor could strict equity have been exercised,
if the exercise of preventing sovereign benevolence had not been excluded,
in those instances wherein moral defect actually took place.
COROLLARIES.
18. The ultimate and chief end of God in the creation and government
of the moral part of the universe, is the glory of his moral perfections ;
which are virtually included in strict rectitude and sovereign benevolence.
19. If strict rectitude be exercised towards the degenerate part of the
system, the restoration of those who are the objects of it is not possible;
that is, to suppose it possible involves a contradiction. Therefore,
20. Ik any degenerate moral agent be rest ored.it must necessarily be by
the exercise of that sovereign benevolence which we call mercy.
21. " Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God! onthemwho
fell, severity ; but toward thee goodness, if thou continue in his goodness;
otherwise thou also shalt be cutoff." Goodness and severity are but other
words for sovereign benevolence and strict equity, the glory of which is
abundantly conspicuous in the various divine dispensations towards tbe
children of men, even in this life; but will appear still more transcendent
in the day when God shall judge the world in righteousness, and in the day
Of ETERNITY. — W.

DISSERTATION

CONCERNING

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

CHAP. I.
Showing wherein the essence of true virtue consists.
Whatever controversies and variety of opinions there
are about the nature of virtue, yet all excepting, some
sceptics, who deny any real difference between virtue and
vice, mean by it something beautiful, or rather some kind
of beauty, or excellency. It is not all beauty that is called
virtue ; for instance, not the beauty of a building, of a
flower, or of the rainbow ; but some beauty belonging to
beings that have perception and will. It is not all beauty
of mankind that is called virtue; for instance, not the
external beauty of the countenance, or shape, gracefulness
of motion, or harmony of voice : but it is a beauty that
has its original seat in the mind. But yet perhaps not
every thing that may be called a beauty of mind, is properly
called virtue. There is a beauty of understanding and
speculation ; there is something in the ideas and concep
tions of great philosophers and. statesmen, that may be
called beautiful ; which is a different thing from what is
most commonly meant by virtue.
But virtue is the beauty of those qualities and acts of
the mind, that are of a moral nature, i. e. such as are at
tended with desert or worthiness of praise or blame. Things
of this sort, it is generally agreed, so far as I know, do
not belong merely to speculation ; but to the disposition
and will, or (to use a general word, I suppose commonly
well understood) to the heart. Therefore, I suppose, I
shall not depart from the common opinion, when I say,
that virtue is the beauty of the qualities and exercises of
the heart, or those actions which proceed from them. So
that when it is inquired, what is the nature of true virtue?
this is the same as to inquire, what that is, which renders
any habit, disposition, or exercise of the heart truly beautiful?
I use the phrase true virtue, and speak of things truly
beautiful, because I suppose it will generally be allowed,
that there is a distinction to be made between some things
which are truly virtuous, and others which only seem to be
so, through a partial and imperfect view of things : that
some actions and dispositions appear beautiful, if con
sidered partially and superficially, or with regard to some
things belonging to them, and in some of their circum
stances and tendencies, which would appear otherwise in
a more extensive and comprehensive view, wherein they
are seen clearly in their whole nature, and the extent of
their connexions in the universality of things.
There is a general and particular beauty. By a particu
lar beauty, I mean that by which a thing appears beautiful
when considered only with regard to its connexion with,
and tendency to, some particular things within a limited,
and as it were a private, sphere. And a general beauty is

that by which a thing appears beautiful when viewed most
perfectly, comprehensively, and universally, with regard to
all its tendencies, and its connexions with every thing to
which it stands related. The former may be without and
against the latter. As a few notes in a tune, taken only by
themselves, and in their relation to one another, may be
harmonious ; which, when considered with respect to all
the notes in the tune, or the entire series of sounds they
are connected with, may be very discordant, and disagree
able. That only, therefore, is what I mean by true virtue,
which, belonging to the heart of an intelligent being, is
beautiful by a general beauty, or beautiful in a compre
hensive view, as it is in itself, and as related to every
thing with which it stands connected. And therefore,
when we are inquiring concerning the nature of true virtue
— wherein this true and general beauty of the heart does
most essentially consist — this is my answer to the in
quiry : 
True virtue most essentially consists in benevolence to
being in general. Or perhaps, to speak more accurately,
it is that consent, propensity, and union of heart to being
in general, which is immediately exercised in a general
good will.
The things before observed respecting the nature of true
virtue, naturally lead us to such a notion of it. If it has
its seat in the heart, and is the general goodness and beauty
of the disposition and its exercise, in the most compre
hensive view, considered with regard to its universal
tendency, and as related to every thing with which it stands
connected ; what can it consist in, but a consent and good
will to being in general '( Beauty does not consist in dis
cord and dissent, but in consent and agreement. And if
every intelligent being is some way related to being in
general, and is a part of the universal system of existence;
and so stands in connexion with the whole ; what can its
general and true beauty be, but its union and consent with
the great whole ?
If any such thing can be supposed as a union of heart
to some particular being, or number of beings, disposing it
to benevolence to a private circle or system of beings,
which are but a small part of the whole ; not implying a
tendency to an union with the great system, and not at all
inconsistent with enmity towards being in general ; this I
suppose not to be of the nature of true virtue ; although it
may in some respects be good, and may appear beautiful
in a confined and contracted view of things. — But of this
more afterwards.
It is abundantly plain by the Holy Scriptures, and gene
rally allowed, not only by christian divines, but by the
more considerable Deists, that virtue most essentially con
sists in love. And I suppose, it is owned by the" most
considerable writers, to consist in general love of benevo
lence, or kind affection : though it seems to me the mean-

Chap. I.

CONCERNING THE ESSENCE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

123

ing of some in this affair is not sufficiently explained ;
which perhaps occasions some error or confusion in dis
courses on this subject.
When I say, true virtue consists in love to being in
general, I shall not be likely to be understood, that no one
act of the mind or exercise of love is of the nature of true
virtue, but what has being in general, or the great system
of universal existence, for its direct and immediate object :
so that no exercise of love, or kind affection, to any one par
ticular being, that is but a small part of this whole, has
any thing of the nature of true virtue. But, that the na
ture of true virtue consists in a disposition to benevolence
towards being in general ; though from such a disposition
may arise exercises of love to particular beings, as objects
are presented, and occasions arise. No wonder, that he
who is of a generally benevolent disposition, should be
more disposed than another to have his heart moved with
benevolent affection to particular persons, with whom he
is acquainted and conversant, and from whom arise the
greatest and most frequent occasions for exciting his be
nevolent temper. But my meaning is, that no affections
towards particular persons or beings are of the nature of
true virtue, but such as arise from a generally benevolent
temper, or from that habit or frame of mind, wherein con
sists a disposition to love being in general.
And perhaps it is needless for ine to give notice to my
readers, that when I speak of an intelligent being having a
heart united and benevolently disposed to being in general,
I thereby mean intelligent being in general. Not inanimate
things, or beings that have no perception or will ; which
are not properly capable objects of benevolence.
Love is commonly distinguished into love of benevo
lence, and love of complacence. Love of benevolence is
that affection or propensity of the heart to any being, which
causes it to incline to its well-being, or disposes it to desire
and take pleasure in its happiness. And if I mistake not,
it is agreeable to the common opinion, that beauty in the
object is not always the ground of this propensity ; but
that there may be a disposition to the welfare of those that
are not considered as beautiful, unless mere existence be
accounted a beauty. And benevolence or goodness in the
Divine Being is generally supposed, not only to be prior
to the beauty of many of its objects, but to their existence;
so as to be the ground both of their existence and their
beauty, rather than the foundation of God's benevolence ;
as it is supposed that it is God's goodness which moved
him to give them both being and beauty. So that if all
virtue primarily consists in that affection of heart to being,
which is exercised in benevolence, or an inclination to its
good, then God's virtue is so extended as to include a
propensity not only to being actually existing, and actually
beautiful, but to possible being, so as to incline him to give
a being beauty and happiness.
What is commonly called love of complacence, presup
poses beauty. For it is no other than delight in beauty ;
or complacence in the person or being beloved for his
beauty. If virtue be the beauty of an intelligent being,
and virtue consists in love, then it is plain inconsistence,
to suppose that virtue primarily consists in any love to its
object for its beauty ; either in a love of complacence,
which is delight in a being for its beauty, or in a love of be
nevolence, that has the beauty of its object for its founda
tion. For that would be to suppose, that the beauty of in
telligent beings primarily consists in love to beauty; or
that their virtue first of all consists in their love to virtue.
Which is an inconsistence, and going in a circle. Because
it makes virtue, or beauty of mind, the foundation or first
motive of that love wherein virtue originally consists, or
wherein the very first virtue consists ; or, it supposes the
first virtue to be the consequence and effect of virtue.
Which rqakes the first virtue both the ground and the con
sequence, both cause and effect of itself. Doubtless virtue
primarily consists in something else besides any effect or
consequence of virtue. If virtue consises primarily in love
to virtue, then virtue, the thing loved, is the love of virtue :
so that virtue must consist in the love of the love of virtue
9 I say, " in proportion to the degree of existence," because one being
may have more existence than another, as he may be greater than another.
That which is great, has more existence, and is further from nothing, than
that which is little. One being may have every thing positive belonging
to it. or every thing which goes to its positive existence (in opposition to

— and so on in infinitum. For there is no end of going
back in a circle. We never come to any beginning or
foundation ; it is without beginning, and hangs on nothing.
—Therefore, if the essence of virtue, or beauty of mind,
lies in love, or a disposition to love, it must primarily con
sist in something different both from complacence, which
is a delight in beauty, and also from any benevolence that
has the beauty of its object for its foundation. Because
it is absurd to say, that virtue is primarily and first of all
the consequence of itself; which makes virtue primarily
prior to itself.
Nor can virtue primarily consist in gratitude ; or one
being's benevolence to another for his benevolence to him.
Because this implies the same inconsistence. For it sup
poses a benevolence prior to gratitude, which is the cause
of gratitude. The first benevolence cannot be gratitude.
Therefore there is room left for no other conclusion, than
that the primary object of virtuous love is being, simply
considered ; or that true virtue primarily consists, not in
love to any particular beings, because of their virtue or
beauty, nor in gratitude, because they love us ; but in a
propensity and union of heart to being simply considered ;
exciting absolute benevolence, if I may so cail it, to being
in general. I say, true virtue primarily consists in this.
For I am far from asserting, that there is no true virtue in
any other love than this absolute benevolence. But I
would express what appears to me to be the truth, on this
subject, in the following particulars.
The first object of a virtuous benevolence is being,
simply considered : and if being, simply considered, be its
object, then being in general is its object ; and what it has
an ultimate propensity to, is the highest good of being in
general. And it will seek the good of every individual
being unless it be conceived as not consistent with the
highest good of being in general. In which case the good
of a particular being, or some beings, may be given up for
the sake of the highest good of being in general. And
particularly, if there be any being statedly and irreclaim-
ably opposite, and an enemy to being in general, then
consent and adherence to being in general will induce the
truly virtuous hdart to forsake that enemy, and to op
pose it.
Further, if being, simply considered, be the first object
of a truly virtuous benevolence, then that object who has
most of being, or has the greatest share of existence, other
things being equal, so far as such a being is exhibited to
our faculties, will have the greatest share of the propensity
and benevolent affections ofthe heart. I say, " other things
being equal," especially because there is a secondary object
of virtuous benevolence, that I shall take notice of pre
sently, which must be considered as the ground or motive
to a purely virtuous benevolence. Pure benevolence in
its first exercise is nothing else but being's uniting con
sent, or propensity to being ; and inclining to the general
highest good, and to each being, whose welfare is
consistent with the highest general good, in proportion to
the degree of existence,* understand, " other things being
equal." The second object of a virtuous propensity of heart is be
nevolent being. A secondary ground of pure benevolence
is virtuous benevolence itself in its object. When any one
under the influence of general benevolence, sees another
being possessed of the like general benevolence, this at
taches his heart to him, and draws forth greater love to
him, than merely his having existence : because so far as
the being beloved has love to the being in general, so far
his own being is, as it were, enlarged ; extends to, and in
some sort comprehends, being in general : and therefore, he
that is governed by love to being in general, must of ne
cessity have complacence in him, and the greater degree of
benevolence to him, as it were out of gratitude to him for his
love to general existence, that his own heart is extended
and united to, and so looks on its interest as its own. It
is because his heart is thus united to being in general,
that he looks on a benevolent propensity to being in general,
wherever he sees it, as the beauty of the being in whom it
defect) in a higher degree than another; or a greater capacity and power,
greater understanding, every faculty and every positive quality in a higher
degree. An arch-angel must be supposed to have more existence, and to be
every way further removed from non-entity, than a worm.

124

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

is ; an excellency that renders him worthy of esteem, com
placence, and the greater good will.— But several things
may be noted more particularly concerning this secondary
ground of a truly virtuous love.
1. That loving a being on this ground necessarily arises
from pure benevolence to being in general, and comes to
the same thing. For he that has a simple and pure good
will to general existence, must love that temper in others,
that agrees and conspires with itself. A spirit of consent
to being must agree with consent to being. That which
truly and sincerely seeks the good of others, must approve
of and love that which joins with him in seeking the good
of others.
2. This secondary ground of virtuous love, is the thing
wherein true moral or spiritual beauty primarily consists.
Yea, spiritual beauty consists wholly in this, and in the
various qualities and exercises of mind which proceed
from it, and the external actions which proceed from these
internal qualities and exercises. And in these things con
sists all true virtue, viz. in this love of being, and the
qualities and acts which arise from it.
3. As all spiritual beauty lies in these virtuous prin
ciples and acts, so it is primarily on this account they are
beautiful, viz. that they imply consent and union with
being in general. This is the primary and most essential
beauty of every thing that can justly be called by the
name of virtue, or is any moral excellency in the eye of
one that has a perfect view of things. I say, "the •primary
and most essential beauty," because there is a secondary
and inferior sort of beauty ; which I shall take notice of
afterwards. 4. This spiritual beauty, which is but a secondary
ground of virtuous benevolence, is the ground, not only
of benevolence, but complacence, and is the primary ground
of the latter ; that is, when the complacence is truly vir
tuous. Love to us in particular, and kindness received,
* In this masterly Dissertation on the nature of virtue, our author enters
at once on his oton definition of the term, and explains very clearly
what he means by true virtue. His views, in some respects, are consider
ably different from those which are most current among ethical writers;
and, probably, for want of some explanations, whereby the different defi
nitions adopted by others may be accounted for, his invaluable treatise has
not only been underrated, but even, by some, unreasonably opposed. We
shall here offer a few remarks, which, perhaps, may tend to cast some light
on the subject in general, as well as to relieve our author's definition from
unfair imputations.
1. Virtue, if we regard the use of the term Cape-rn) among the Greeks,
seems to have been appropriated as much to the idea of martial courage,
as the English term is appropriated to that of female chastity. Not that it
was used exclusively in the former case, any more than in the latter. It
often signifies power, energy, efficacy, and excellence. But by moral writers
both ancient and modern, it has been unanimously adopted to represent
a very general moral idea. — It would be easy to produce a great number of
definitions from moralists and divines; but this is neither necessary, nor
does it comport with our present purpose.
2. If we mistake not, there is no just definition of virtue, wbich is not
reducible to this general one : Virtue is a laudable mean of real hap
piness. Cicero, indeed, says of it, that it is " affectio animi eonstans, con-
veniensque, laudabiles efficiens eos, in quibus est, ct ipsa per se, sua
sponte, separata etiam utilitate, laudabihs." (Tuscul. Quaest Lib. iv. §
15.) But virtue being laudable from its very nature, independently of any
advantageous result, does not hinder it from "being " a laudable meanot real
happiness." 3. Now happiness being the uniform and voluntary end of intellectual
existence, a desire of it being inseparable from our nature ; we become
liable to err, not only by adopting wrong means for accomplishing the end
we propose to ourselves, hut also by forming a false estimate of the nature
of happiness, or the end itself If the happiness be not real but imaginery,
in the contemplation ofthe agent, however well adapted the means may be
in order to attain it, they deserve not the epithet virtuous.
4. To discover the nature of true happiness, the light of wisdom is requi
site ; and while desire is blind, false estimates will be made. But every
one thinks himself wise and prudent enough to prescribe his own happiness,
till such folly be shown him by the wisdom which is from above ; and he
who supposes himself adequate to fix the end, cannot be very diffident
about the means to be employed.
5. Hence there is room for as many representations of virtue, as there
are kinds of happiness which men think to be real ; in addition to as many
means employed to accomplish their proposed end, as they judge to be
laudable. 6. From these preliminary remarks, it appears, that the nature and real
character of virtue, must arise from the nature of the end proposed, and of
the means employed for securing it We shall now attempt to illustrate the
ground of numerous representations of virtue, by comparison.
7. Let the different kinds of happiness which we propose to ourselves,
whether those which have been classified by moral writers, or any others,
be represented by so many concentric circles. For instance, let happiness
be considered as personal and relative, private and public, domestic and
national, temporal and eternal, or the like ; and for every species of hap
piness let there be a corresponding circle drawn. Let the filling up of that
circle express the virtue requisite to attain the happiness thus represented.
8. Suppose, for example, that health, friendship, domestic unanimity,
national prosperity, the welfare of the "human race, and our individual
conformity to God in his moral excellence through eternal ages, or the
happiness implied in these respectively, be represented by the concentric
circles above mentioned. Then, the happiness implied in health, a small
circle, will be filled by corresponding virtues, when the end is sought by
laudable means ; such as temperance, moderation, chastity, government
of tbe passions, &c. The circle representing the happiness implied in friend-

but this is the primary ob-

may be a secondary ground :
jective foundation of it.
5. It must be noted, that the degree of the amiableness
of true virtue, primarily consisting in consent, and a be
nevolent propensity of heart to being in general, is not in
the simple proportion of the degree of benevolent affection
seen, but in a proportion compounded of the greatness of
the benevolent being, or the degree of being and the de
gree of benevolence. One that loves being in general, will
necessarily value good will to being in general, wherever
he sees it. But if he sees the same benevolence in two
beings, he will value it more in two, than in one only.
Because it is a greater thing, more favourable to being in
general, to have two beings to favour it, than only one of
them. For there is more being that favours being: both
together having more being than one alone. So, if one
being be as great as two, has as much existence as both
together, and has the same degree of general benevolence,
it is more favourable to being in general, than if there
were general benevolence in a being that had but half that
share of existence. As a large quantity of gold, with the
same quality, is more valuable than a small quantity of
the same metal.
6. It is impossible that any one should truly relish this
beauty, consisting in general benevolence, who has not
that temper himself. I have observed, that if any being is
possessed of such a temper, he will unavoidably be pleased
with the same temper in another. And it may in like
manner be demonstrated, that it is such a spirit, and no
thing else, which will relish such a spirit. For if a being,
destitute of benevolence, should love benevolence to being
in general, it would prize and seek that for which it had
no value. For how should one love and value a disposition
to a thing, or a tendency to promote it, and for that very
reason, when the thing itself is what he is regardless of,
and has no value for, nor desires to have promoted.*
ship will be filled by corresponding virtues, when the end is sought, as
before, by laudable means ; such as benevolence, fidelity, prudence, sym
pathy, &c. The circle of domestic happiness is filled with the virtues of
kindness, meekness, patience, industry, economy, &c. That ef national
prosperity by diligence in business, honesty, justice, truth, liberality, con
scientious submission, fortitude, real patriotism, &c. The circle represent
ing the welfare of the human race, as the common offspring of one pro
genitor, and who are regarded by the Supreme Parent as the children of
one family, is filled by the virtues of philanthropy, expansive benevolent
zeal, self-denial, public spirit, passive courage, &tc And the circle of that
happiness which is implied in our individual conformity to God's moral
excellence ; in other words, that happiness which is ultimate and supreme,
is filled by nothing short of supreme love to God, or, in language more
philosophically accurate, consent of will to being in general — benevolent
attachment to universal being.
9. Now who can question whether temperance, fidelity, meekness,
honesty and liberality, philanthropy and public spirit, should be ranked
among the virtues ? And who can doubt that they are calculated to secure
the happiness implied in health, friendship, national prosperity, and the
welfare of the human race, respectively ? And yet, if we exclude the dis-
position which is required to fill the largest circle — benevolent attachment
to universal being — which of these virtues may not an atlieist actually
possess? Nay, may not an atheist possess them all? For may he not
promote his health by temperance, moderation, chastity, and the like ?
May he not exercise friendly benevolence, fidelity, prudence, sympathy,
and similar virtues ? Have not atheists been great patriots, if by pa
triotism we mean a supreme regard for the prosperity and glory of the
nation to which they belonged, manifested by severe studies, by the light
ning and thunder of their eloquence, the fatigues of war, and a willingness
to shed the last drop of their blood in defence of their country ? Nay more,
may not an atheist possess the virtues of generous philanthropy, and, to a
certain extent, of benevolent zeal for the welfare of mankind in general,
expressed by an attempt to remove their ignominious chains, to promote
the civilization of savage nations whom he has never seen, to alleviate the
sufferings and to enhance the comforts of all mankind ?
10. Far be it from us to suppose that atheists are favourable to virtue,
even in these inferior acceptations of the term. The reverse is abundantly
evident. But this is what we assert, that such virtues as those above
mentioned, when exclusive of what our author contends for, are what an
atheist may possess, without inconsistency ; and that they have no moral
worth, no direct connexion, either with the complacency of God in them,
or with the ultimate happiness of the agent. However attentive a man
may be to practise virtues in subservience to his health, while he repels
those of ; friendship ; or however observant of the virtues of friendship,
while he repels others which are conducive to domestic, national, and
universal happiness ; his virtues, if the name be retained, are those of a
bad character. Some have been conspicuous and zealous patriots, while
determined foes to philanthropy and general good will to mankind as such.
And bow many have fought with the most patriotic zeal and courage in the
field of honour, though tyrants at home, and in private life trampling on
those virtues which constitute a good husband, a good father, a good master,
a good neighbour, a good friend, or a good any thing. In short, were a
man to " give all his goods to feed the poor, and his body to be burned,"
out of zeal to promote some public good, yet without love to God, without
benevolent attachment to universal being, he is morally nothing or worse
than nothing.
11. What are called virtues, without a disposition to embrace uni
versal being and excellence, are, morally considered, but lifeless images.
To compare them to a series of decimal figures, which, however increased,
will never amount to an unit of moral worth, is to place them in too favour
able a view ; they are more like cyphers. But let these unmeaning cyphers
be preceded by a figure, let these images have an informing and invigorat
ing principle, let these dry bones have the spirit of life in them, and they

Chap. II.

HOW LOVE RESPECTS DIFFERENT BEINGS.

125

CHAP. II.
Showing how that love, wherein true virtue consists, respects
the Divine Being and created beings.
From what has been said, it is evident, that true virtue
must chiefly consist in love to God ; the Being of beings,
infinitely the greatest and best. This appears, whether we
consider the primary or secondary ground of virtuous love.
It was observed, that the first objective ground of that love,
wherein true virtue consists, is being simply considered :
and, as a necessary consequence of this, that being who has
the greatest share of universal existence has proportionably
the greatest share of virtuous benevolence, so far as such a
being is exhibited to the faculties of our minds, other
things being equal. But God has infinitely the greatest
share of existence. So that all other being, even the
whole universe, is as nothing in comparison of the Divine
Being. And if we consider the secondary ground of love, or moral
excellency, the same thing will appear. For as God is in
finitely the greatest Being, so he is allowed to be infinitely
the most beautiful and excellent : and all the beauty to be
found throughout the whole creation, is but the reflection
of the diffused beams of that Being who hath an infinite
fulness of brightness and glory. God's beauty is infinitely
more valuable than that of all other beings upon both those
accounts mentioned, viz. the degree of his virtue, and the
greatness of his being, possessed of this virtue. And God
has sufficiently exhibited himself, both in his being, and
his infinite greatness and excellency : and has given us
faculties, whereby we are capable of plainly discovering bis
immense superiority to all other beings, in these respects.
Therefore, he that has true virtue, consisting in benevolence
to being in general, and in benevolence to virtuous being,
must necessarily have a supreme love to God, both of
benevolence and complacence. And all true virtue must
radically and essentially, and, as it were, summarily, con
sist in this. Because God is not only infinitely greater
and more excellent than all other being,'but he is the head
of the universal system of existence ; the foundation and
fountain of all being and all beauty ; from whom all is
perfectly derived, and on whom all is most absolutely and
perfectly dependent; of whom, and through whom, and to
whom is all being and all perfection ; and whose being and
beauty are, as it were, the sum and comprehension of all
existence and excellence : much more than the sun is .the
fountain and summary. comprehension of all the light and
brightness of the day.
if it should be objected, that virtue consists primarily in
will acquire a moral excellence ; they will deserve the name of real
VIRTUES. 12. Some have defined virtue, by calling it, "a tendency to ultimate hap
piness." If the meaning of this definition be, " a tendency to God, in whom
our ultimate happiness is found," it may be admitted; otherwise, it seems
not admissible on many accounts. Tendency may be considered as either
voluntary or involuntary. In the first place, let us suppose it to be volun
tary. We then observe, that it is not rational, nor even compatible with
common sense, to say, that virtue is a voluntary tendency to a quality of
our own minds, as happiness evidently is. For happiness, from its very
nature, is a relative state, or quality of mind, which is the result of enjoy
ing an object suited to our wants. And to desire ultimate happiness, with
out including the object of choice from whence happiness results, is the
same as to seek happiness in nothing. If it be said, that happiness itself is
the object sought; then virtue consists in a voluntary tendency to seek
happiness in happiness, which is absurd.
13. Ultimate happiness has been defined, " the durable possession of per
fect good." If this be a just statement, which few or none will question,
what*is the perfect good possessed? If it be answered, The Supreme
Being ; to this there is no objection. But if it be said, tbe ultimate happi
ness itself is the perfect good enjoyed ; then the happiness to which the
choice is directed is both cause and effect at the same time. Both the thing
enjoyed and the enjoyment itself are the same thing. Which is no less ab
surd than for a man to assert, that the stock of a tree and tbe fruit on its
branches, are the same thing; or that his relish of food is the same as the
food itself. A tendency to happiness resulting from no object of that ten
dency, is the same thing as a tendency to no nappiness. In other words,
according to this definition, supposing the tendency to be voluntary, virtue
is a desire of ultimate happiness. And this will reduce it to another ab
surdity ; for, as a desire of ultimate happiness is an inseparable property of
intelligent beings, the most vicious being in existence is virtuous. These
consequences, however just, will not be thought very extraordinary, when
compared with the following declarations. " The following seems to be at
present the true moral state ofthe world : In every moral agent the number
of virtuous actions greatly exceed that of vicious ones. — In by far the greater
number of moral agents, and even amongst those who are considered as
most vicious and profligate, the number of virtuous affections and habits
greatly preponderates over the vicious ones. A character in which there is
a preponderance of vice, is very rarely, if ever, to be met with." (Belsham's
Elements, p. 400. J And, to advance one step further in this hopeful way, as
this desire belongs to all intelligent beings alike, all intelligent beings are
alike virtuous /

benevolence, but that our fellow-creatures, and not God,
seem to be the most proper objects of our benevolence ;
inasmuch as our goodness extendelh not to God, and we
cannot be profitable to him.— To this I answer,
1. A benevolent propensity of heart is exercised, not only
in seeking to promote the happiness of the being towards
whom it is exercised, but also in rejoicing in his happiness.
Even as gratitude for benefits received will not only excite
endeavours to requite the kindness we receive, by equally
benefiting our benefactor, but also if he be above any need
of us, or we have nothing to bestow, and are unable to
repay his kindness, it will dispose us to rejoice in his
prosperity. 2. Though we are not able to give any thing to God,
which we have of our own, independently ; yet we may be
the instruments of promoting his glori/, in which he takes
a true and proper delight.*— 'Whatever influence such an
objection may seem to have on the minds of some, yet is
there any that owns the being of a God, who will deny
that any benevolent affection is due lo God, and proper to
be exercised towards him ? If no benevolence is to be ex
ercised towards God, because we cannot profit him, then,
for the same reason, neither is gratitude to be exercised to
wards him for his benefits to us ; because we cannot re
quite him. But where is the man, who believes a God and
a providence, that will say this ?
There seems to be an inconsistence in some writers on
morality, in this respect, that they do not wholly exclude
a regard to the Deity out of their schemes of morality,
but yet mention it so slightly, that they leave me room and
reason to suspect they esteem it a less important and sub
ordinate part of true morality ; and insist on benevolence
to the created system, in such a manner as would naturally
lead one to suppose they look upon that as by far the most
important and essential thing in their scheme. But why
should this be ? If true virtue consists partly in a respect
to God, then doubtless it consists chiefly in it. If true
morality requires that we should have some regard, some
benevolent affection to our Creator, as well as to his crea
tures, then doubtless it requires the first regard to be paid
to him ; and that he be every way the supreme object ot
our benevolence. If his being above our reach, and be
yond all capacity of being profited by us, does not hinder,
but that nevertheless he is the proper object of our love,
then it does not hinder that he should be loved according
to his dignity, or according to the degree in which he has
those things wherein worthiness of regard consists, so far
as we are capable of it. But this worthiness, none will
deny, consists in these two things, greatness and moral
goodness. And those that own a God, do not deny that he
14. In reality, a mere desire of ultimate happiness is no virtue, has
nothing laudable in it, but is a mere instinct of intellectual nature, and be
longs alike to the best and the worst of intelligent beings. But virtue con
sists in the choice of, or a disposition to choose, laudable means in order to
arrive at this end. A bad man in his choice of objects, or a vicious choice
itself, aims at ultimate happiness ; but the means are not laudable, and this
wrong choice of means constitutes the very essence of his vice.
15. If it be said, that virtue is a tendency to ultimate self-enjoyment, as
constituting happiness ; then it follows that self is the perfect good desired.
And then every one is himself all-sufficient to constitute his own happiness.
Let any rational person judge, whether this be not a definition of sordid vice,
rather than of virtue ; and whether such a disposition would not be a ten
dency to insubordination, anarchy, and confusion, rather than to happiness
— the very temper of an apostate spirit.
16. If it be said, moreover, that " a tendency to ultimate happiness,"
does not refer to the will, desire, or choice ; but expresses any thing which
in fact tends to ultimate happiness. This leads us to suppose secondly,
that tbe tendency is involuntary. It seems, then, on this supposition, that
the means employed to acquire ultimate happiness need not be laudable.
This is the genuine result of that account of virtue which is here animad
verted upon ; and which the abettors of it are forced to admit The doc
trine of " intrinsic merit or demerit of actions, independent on their conse
quences," they call an " absurd supposition." (Belsham's Elements, p.
$19, 372, 373.)
17. It seems, then, we are all bound to be virtuous at our peril, and yet
we must wait the result of all our actions, before we can know what is vir
tuous and what is not For if virtue and vice have no intrinsic character of
good or evil, but actions, affections, habits, or characters, are either good
or bad from their ultimate consequences ; then we must wait for those con
sequences, as the only expositors of virtue and vice.
18. Can any thing more be necessary, in order to show the absurdity of
such a notion of virtue ? Happiness, it is allowed, is a consequent, of which
virtue is the antecedent. But what is the moralnature of this antecedent r
Is it any thing good, beautiful, or laudable per se? No, say they ; it has
no nature beside tendency ; wbich has no intrinsic merit or demerit ; and
consequently, that which has no moral nature is a moral nothing ; that is,
virtue is a moral nothing, or nothing moral. And whether this character
of virtue be not totally distinctfrom the distant of right reason, philosophic
accuracy, common sense, and christian piety, let the reader judge. — w.
* As was shown at large in the former treatise, on God's end in creating
the world, Chap. I. sect 4. whither I must refer the reader for a more full
answer to this objection.

12G

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

infinitely exceeds all other beings in these. If the Deity
is to be looked upon as within that system of beings which
properly terminates our benevolence, or belonging to that
whole, certainly he is to be regarded as the head of the sys
tem, and the chief o^xt of it : if it be proper to call him a
vart, who is infinitely more than all the rest, and in com
parison of whom, and without whom, all the rest are no
thing, either as to beauty or existence. And therefore cer
tainly, unless we will be atheists, we must allow that true
virtue does primarily and most essentially consist in a
supreme love to God ; and that where this is wanting, there
can be no true virtue.
But this being a matter of the highest importance, I shall
say something further to make it plain, that love to God is
most essential to true virtue; and that no benevolence
whatsoever to other beings can be of the nature of true
virtue without it.
And therefore, let it be supposed, that some beings, by
natural instinct, or by some other means, have a deter
mination of mind to union and benevolence to a particu
lar person, or private system,* which is but a small part of
the universal system of being : and that this disposition or
determination of mind is independent on, or not subordi
nate to, benevolence to being m general. Such a deter
mination, disposition, or affection of mind is not of the na
ture of true virtue.
This is allowed by all with regard to self-love ; in which
good will is confined to one single person only. And
there are the same reasons why any other private affection
or good will, though extending to a society of persons in
dependent of, and unsubordinate to, benevolence to the
universality, should not be esteemed truly virtuous. For,
notwithstanding it extends to a number of persons, which
taken together are more than a single person, yet the whole
falls infinitely short of the universality of existence ; and
if put in the scales with it, has no greater proportion to it
than a single person.
However, it may not be amiss more particularly to con
sider the reasons why private affections, or good will
limited to a particular circle of beings, falling infinitely
short of the whole existence, and not dependent upon it,
nor subordinate to general benevolence, cannot be of the
nature of true virtue.
1. Such a private affection, detached from general bene
volence, and independent on it, as the case may be, will
be against general benevolence, or of a contrary tendency ;
and will set a person against general existence, and make
him an enemy to it. As it is with selfishness, or when a
man is governed by a regard to his own private interest,
independent of regard to the public good, such a temper
exposes a man to act the part of an enemy to the public.
As, in every case wherein his private interest seems to
clash with the public ; or in all those cases wherein such
things are presented to his view, that suit his personal ap
petites or private inclinations, but are inconsistent with
the good ofthe public. On which account, a selfish, con-
tracted,'tnarrow spirit is generally abhorred, and is esteem
ed base and sordid. • But if a man'." affection takes in half
a dozen more, and his regards extend so far beyond his
own single person as to take in his children and family ;
or if it reaches further still to a larger circle, but falls in
finitely short of the universal system, and is exclusive of
being in general ; his private affection exposes him to the
same thing, viz. to pursue the interest of its particular ob
ject in opposition to general existence : which is certainly
contrary to the tendency of true virtue ; yea, directly con
trary to the main and most essential thing in its nature,
the thing on account of which chiefly its nature and
tendency is good. For the chief and most essential good
that is in virtue, is its favouring being in general. Now
certainly, if private affection to a limited system had in
itself the essential nature of virtue, it would' be impossible
that it should, in any circumstance whatsoever, have a
tendency and inclination directly contrary to that wherein
the essence of virtue chiefly consists.
2. Private affection, if not subordinate to general affec-
* It may be here noted, that when hereafter I use such a phrase as pri
vate system of being, or others similar, I thereby intend any system or
society of beings that contains but a small part of the great system, com
prehending the universality of existence. I think that may well be called

tion, is not only liable, as the case may he, to issue in
enmity to being in general, but has a terutency to it as the
case certainly is, and must necessarily be. For he that is
influenced by private affection, not subordinate to a regard
to being in general, sets up its particular or limited object
above being in general ; and this most naturally tends to
enmity against the latter, which is by right the great
supreme, ruling, and absolutely sovereign object of our
regard. Even as the setting up another prince as supreme
in any kingdom, distinct from the lawful sovereign, natu
rally tends to enmity against the lawful sovereign.
Wherever it is sufficiently published, that the supreme, in
finite, and all-comprehending Being requires a supreme
regard to himself; and insists upon it, that our respect to
him should universally rule in our hearts, and every other
affection be subordinate to it, and this under the pain of
his displeasure, (as we must suppose it is in the world of
intelligent creatures, if God maintains a moral kingdom in
the world,) then a consciousness of our having chosen and
set up another prince to rule over us, and subjected our
hearts to him, and continuing in such an act, must un
avoidably excite enmity, and fix us in a stated opposition
to the Supreme Being. This demonstrates, that affection
to a private society or system, independent on general be
nevolence, cannot be of the nature of true virtue. For
this would be absurd, that it has the nature and essence of
true virtue, and yet at the same time has a tendency oppo
site to true virtue.
3. Not only would affection to a private system, un
subordinate to a regard to being in general, have a ten
dency to oppose the supreme object of virtuous affection,
as its effect and consequence, but would become itself an
opposition to that object. Considered by itself in its na
ture, detached from its effects, it is an instance of great
opposition to the rightful supreme object of our respect.
For it exalts its private object above the other greajt.and
infinite object ; and sets that up as supreme, in opposition
to this. It puts down being in general, which is infinitely
superior in itself, and infinitely more ijnportant, in an in
ferior place ; yea, subjects the supreme general object to
this private infinitely inferior object : which is to treat it
with great contempt, and truly to act in opposition to it,
and to act iu opposition to the true order of things, and in
opposition to that which is infinitely the supreme interest ;
making this supreme and infinitely important interest, as
far as in us lies, to be subject to, and dependent on, an in
terest infinitely inferior. This is to act the part of an
enemy to it. He that takes a subject, and exalts him
above his prince, sets him as supreme instead of the
prince, and treats his prince wholly as a subject, therein
acts the part of an enemy to his prince.
From these things, I think, it is manifest, that no affec
tion limited to any private system, not depending on nor
subordinate to being in general, can be of the nature of
true virtue ; and this, whatever the private system be, let
it be more or less extensive, consisting of a greater or
smaller number of individuals, so long as it contains an
infinitely little part of universal existence, and so bears no
proportion to the great all-comprehending system. And
consequently, that no affection whatsoever to any creature,
or any system of created Beings, which is not dependent
on, nor subordinate to, a propensity or union of the heart to
God, the supreme and infinite Being, can be of the nature
of true virtue.
From hence also it is evident, that the divine virtue, or
the virtue of the divine mind, must consist primarily in
love to himself, or in the mutual love and friendship which
subsists eternally and necessarily between the several per
sons in the Godhead, or that infinitely strong propensity
there is in these divine persons one to another. Tnere is
no need of multiplying words, to prove that it must be
thus, on a supposition that virtue, in its most essential
nature, consists in benevolent affection or propensity of
heart towards being in general ; and so flowing out to par
ticular beings, in a greater or lesser degree, according to
the measure of existence and beauty which they are pos-
a private system, which is but an infinitely small part of this great whole
we stand related to. I therefore also call that affection private affection,
which is limited to so narrow a circle : and that general affection or bene
volence, which has being in general for its object.

Chap. II.

CONCERNING THE SECONDARY BEAUTY.

127

sessed of. It will also follow, from the foregoing things,
that God's goodness and love to created beings, is derived
from and subordinate to his love to himself.*
With respect to the manner in which a virtuous love in
created beings, one to another, is dependent on, and derived
from love to God, this will appear by a proper consider
ation of what has been said ; that it is sufficient to render
love to any created being, virtuous, if it arise from the
temper of mind wherein consists a disposition to love God
supremely. Because it appears from what has been
already observed, all that love to particular beings, which
is the fruit of a benevolent propensity of heart to being in
feneral, is virtuous love. But, as has been remarked, a
enevolent propensity of heart to being in general, and a
temper or disposition to love God supremely, are in effect
the same thing. Therefore, if love to a created being
comes from that temper, or propensity of the heart, it is
virtuous. However, every particular exercise of love to a
creature may not sensibly arise from any exercise of love to
God, or an explicit consideration of any similitude, con
formity, union, or relation to God, in the creature beloved.
The most proper evidence of love to a created being,
arising from that temper of mind wherein consists a su
preme propensity of heart to God, seems to be the agree
ableness of the kind and degree of our love to God's end in
our creation, and in the creation of all things, and the
coincidence of the exercise of our love, in their manner,
order, and measure, with the manner in which God himself
exercises love to the creature in the creation and govern
ment of the world, and the way in which God, as the first
cause and supreme disposer of all things, has respect to
the creature's happiness, in subordination to himself as his
own supreme end. For the true virtue of created beings
is doubtless their highest excellency, and their true good
ness, and that by which they are especially agreeable to
the mind of their Creator. But the true goodness of a
thing, must be its agreeableness to its end, or its fitness to
answer the design for which it was made. Therefore, they
are good moral agents, whose temper of mind, or propen
sity of heart, is agreeable to the end for which God made
moral agents. But, as has been shown, the last end for
which God has made moral agents, must be the last end
for which God has made all things : it being evident, that
the moral world is the end of the rest of the world ; the
inanimate and unintelligent world being made for the
rational and moral world, as much as a house is prepared
for the inhabitants.
By these things, it appears, that a truly virtuous mind,
being as it were under the sovereign dominion of love to
God, above all things, seeks the glory of God, and makes
this his supreme, governing, and ultimate end. This con
sists in the expression of God's perfections in their proper
effects, — the manifestation of God's glory to created under
standings, — the communications of the infinite fulness of
God to the creature, — the creature's highest esteem of God,
love to, and joy in him, — and in the proper exercises and
expressions of these. And so far as a virtuous mind exer
cises true virtue in benevolence to created beings, it chiefly
seeks the good of the creature; consisting in its knowledge
or view of God's glory and beauty, its union with Goo1,
conformity and love to him, and joy in him. And that
disposition of heart, that consent, union, or propensity of
mind to being in general, which appears chiefly in such
exercises, is vrRTUE, truly so called ; or in other words,
true grace and real holiness. And no other disposition
or affection but this is of the nature of true virtue.
Corollary. Hence it appears, that those schemes of reli
gion or moral philosophy, which — however well in some
respects they may treat of benevolence to mankind, and
other virtues depending on it, yet — have not a supreme
regard to God, and love to him, laid as the foundation,
and all other virtues handled in a connexion with this, and
in subordination to it, are not true schemes of philosophy,
but are fundamentally and essentially defective. And
whatever other benevolence or generosity towards man
kind, and other virtues, or moral qualifications which go
by that name, any are possessed of, that are not attended
with a love to God, which is altogether above them, and
* In what manner it is so, I have endeavoured in some measure to ex-

to which they are subordinate, and on which they are
dependent, there is nothing of the nature of true virtue or
religion in them. And it may be asserted in general, that
nothing is of the nature of true virtue, in which God is not
the first and the last ; or which, with regard to their exer
cises in general, have not their first foundation and source
in apprehensions of God's supreme dignity and glory, and
in answerable esteem and love of him, and have not respect
to God as the supreme end.

CHAP. III.
Concerning the secondary and inferior kind of beauty.
Though what has been spoken of is, alone, justly-
esteemed the true beauty of moral agents, or spiritua.
beings ; this alone being what would appear beautiful in
them upon a clear and comprehensive view of things ; and
therefore alone is the moral amiableness of beings that
have understanding and will, in the eyes of him that per
fectly sees all things as they are ; yet there are other
qualities, other sensations, propensities, and affections of
mind, and principles of action, that often obtain the epithet
of virtuous, and by many are supposed to have the nature
of true virtue ; which are entirely of a distinct nature from
this, and have nothing of that kind ; and therefore are
erroneously confounded with real virtue.
That consent, agreement, or union of being to being,
which has been spoken of, viz. the union or propensity of
minds to mental or spiritual existence, may be called the
highest and primary beauty ; being the proper and peculiar
beauty of spiritual and moral beings, which are the highest
and first part of the universal system, for whose sake all
the rest has existence. Yet there is another, inferior, se
condary beauty, which is some image of this, and which
is not peculiar to spiritual beings, but is found even in in
animate things ; which consists in => mutual consent and
agreement of different things, in form, manner, quantity,
and visible end or design ; called by the various names
of regularity, order, uniformity, symmetry, proportion,
harmony, &c. Such is the mutual agreement of the
various sides of a square, or equilateral triangle, or of a
regular polygon. Such is, as it were, the mutual consent
of the different parts of the periphery of a circle, or surface
of a sphere, and of the corresponding parts of an ellipsis.
Such is the agreement ofthe colours, figures, dimensions,
and distances of the different spots on a chess board. Such
is the beauty of the figures on a piece of chintz or bro
cade. Such is the beautiful proportion of the various
parts of a human body, or countenance. And such is the
sweet mutual consent and agreement of the various notes
of a melodious tune. This is the same that Mr. Hutchin
son, in his Treatise on Beauty, expresses by uniformity in
the midst of variety. Which is no other than the consent
or agreement of different things, in form, quantity, &c.
He observes, that the greater the variety is in equal uni
formity the greater the beauty. Which is no more than to
say, the more there are of different mutually agreeing
things, the greater is the beauty. And the reason of that
is, because it is more considerable to have many things
consent one with another, than a few only.
The beauty which consists in the visible fitness of a
thing to its use, and unity of design, is not a distinct sort
of beauty from this. For it is to be observed, that one
thing which contributes to the beauty of the agreement and
proportion of various things, is their relation one to an
other ; which connects them, and introduces them toge
ther into view and consideration, and whereby one sug
gests the other to the mind, and the mind is led to com
pare them, and so to expect and desire agreement. Thus
the uniformity of two or more pillars, as they may happen
to be found in different places, is not an equal degree of
beauty, as that uniformity in so many pillars in the cor
responding parts of the same building. So means and an
intended effect are related one to another. The answer-
ableness of a thing to its use is only the proportion and
fitness of a cause, or means, to a visibly designed effect,
plain in the preceding discourse of God's end in creating the world.

128

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

and so an effect suggested to the mind by the idea of the
means. This kind of beauty is not entirely different from
that beauty which there is in fitting a mortise to its tenon.
Only when the beauty consists in unity of design, or the
adaptedness of a variety of things to promote one intended
effect, in which all conspire, as the various parts of an
ingenious complicated machine, there is a double beauty,
as there is a twofold agreement and conformity. First,
there is the agreement of the various parts to the designed
end. Secondly, through this designed end or effect, ail the
various particulars agree one with another as the general
medium of their union, whereby they, being united in this
third, are all united one to another.
The reason, or at least one reason, why God has made
this kind of mutual agreement of things beautiful and
grateful to those intelligent beings that perceive it, probably
is, that there is in it some image of the true, spiritual,
original beauty, which has been spoken of; consisting in
being's consent to being, or the union of spiritual beings in
a mutual propensity and affection of heart. The other is
an image of this, because by that uniformity diverse things
become as it were one, as it is in this cordial union. And
it pleases God to observe analogy in his works, as is mani
fest in fact, in innumerable instances ; and especially to
establish inferior things with analogy to superior. Thus, in
how many instances has he formed brutes in analogy to
the nature of mankind ! and plants, in analogy to animals,
with respect to the manner of their generation, nutrition,
&c. And so he has constituted the external world in
analogy to the spiritual world, in numberless instances ;
as might be shown, if it were necessary, and here were a
proper place for it  Why such analogy in God's works
pleases him, it is not needful now to inquire. It is suf
ficient that he makes an agreement of different things, in
their form, manner, measure, &c. to appear beautiful, be
cause here is some image of a higher kind of agreement and
consent of spiritual beings. It has pleased him to establish
a law of nature, by virtue of which the uniformity and
mutual correspondence of a beautiful plant, and the respect
which the various pails of a regular building seem to have
one to another, and their agreement and union, and the
consent or concord of the various notes of a melodious
tune, should appear beautiful ; because therein is some
image of the consent of mind, of the different members of
a society or system of intelligent beings, sweetly united in
a benevolent agreement of heart.
And here by the way, I would further observe, probably
it is with regard to this image or resemblance, which
secondary beauty has of true spiritual beauty, that God
has so constituted nature, that the presenting of this in
ferior beauty, especially in those kinds of it which have
the greatest resemblance of the primary beauty, as the
harmony of sounds, and the. beauties of nature, have a
tendency to assist those whose hearts are under the influ
ence of a truly virtuous temper, to dispose them to the
exercises of divine love, and enliven in them a sense of
spiritual beauty.
From what has been said we may see, that there are two
sorts of a_reement or consent of one thing to another.
(1.) There is a cordial agreement ; that consists in concord
and union of mind and heart : which, if not attended
(viewing things in general) with more discord than concord,
is true virtue, and the original or primary beauty, which is
the only true moral beauty. (2.) There is a natural union
or agreement ; which, though some image of the other, is
entirely a distinct thing ; the will, disposition, or affection
of the heart having no concern in it, but consisting only in
uniformity and consent of nature, form, quantity, &c. (as
before described,) wherein lies an inferior secondary sort of
beauty, which may in distinction from the other, be called
natural beauty. This may be sufficient to let the reader
know how I shall hereafter use the phrases cordial and
natural agreement ; and moral, spiritual, divine, and
primary original beauty, and secondary or natural beauty.
Concerning this latter, the inferior kind of beauty, the fol
lowing things may be observed :
1. The rau.se why secondary beauty is grateful to men, is
only a law of nature, which God has fixed, or an instinct
he has. given to mankind ; and not their perception of the
same thing which God is pleased to regard as the ground

or rule by which he has established such a law of nature,
This appears in two things.
(1.) That which God respects, as the ground of this law
of nature, whereby things having a secondary beauty are
made grateful to men, is their mutual agreement and pro
portion, in measure, form, &c. But, in many instances,
persons that are gratified and affected with this beauty, do
not reflect on that particular agreement and proportion,
which, according to the law of nature, is the ground and
rule of beauty in the case, yea, are ignorant of it. Thus,
a man may be pleased with the harmony of the notes in a
tune, and yet know nothing of that proportion or adjust
ment of the notes, which, by the law of nature, is the
ground of the melody. He knows not, that the vibrations
in one note regularly coincide with the vibrations in an
other ; that the vibrations of a note coincide in time with
two vibrations of its octave ; and that two vibrations of a
note coincide with three of its fifth, &c. — Yea, he may not
know, that there are vibrations of the air in the case, or any
corresponding motions in the organs of hearing, in the
auditory nerve, or animal spirits. — —So a man may be
affected and pleased with a beautiful proportion of the fea
tures in a face, and yet not know what that proportion is,
or in what measures, quantities, and distances it consists.
In this, therefore, a sensation of secondary beauty differs
from a sensation of primary and spiritual beauty, consist
ing in a spiritual union and agreement. What makes the
latter grateful, is perceiving the union itself. It is the im
mediate view of that wherein the beauty fundamentally
lies, that is pleasing to the virtuous mind.
(2.) God, in establishing such a law- — that mutual na
tural agreement of different things, in form, quantity, &c.
should appear beautiful or grateful to men — seems to
have had regard to the resemblance there is in such a na
tural agreement, to that spiritual, cordial agreement,
wherein original beauty consists. But it is not any re
flection upon, or perception of, such a resemblance, that is
the reason why such a form or state of objects appear
beautiful to men : but their sensation of pleasure, on a
view of this secondary beauty, is immediately owing to the
law God has established, or the instinct he has given.
2. Another thing observable concerning this kind of
beauty, is, that it affects the mind more (other things
being equal) when taken notice of in objects which are
of considerable importance, than in little trivial matters.
Thus, the symmetry of the parts of a human body, or
countenance, affects the mind more than the beauty of a
flower. So the beauty of the solar system, more than as
great and as manifold an order and uniformity in a tree.
And the proportions of the parts of a church, or a palace,
more than the same proportions in some little slight com
positions, made to please children.
3. Not only uniformity and proportion, &c. of different
things, is requisite, in order to this inferior beauty ; but
also some relation or connexion of the things thus agree
ing one with another. As the uniformity or likeness of a
number of pillars, scattered hither and thither, does not
constitute beauty, or at least by no means in an equal de
gree, as uniformity in pillars connected in the same build
ing, in parts that have relation one to another. So, if we
see things unlike, and very disproportioned, in distant
places, which have no relation to each other, this excites
no such idea of deformity, as disagreement, inequality, or
disproportion in things related and connected ; and the
nearer the relation, and the stricter the connexion, so much
the greater and more disgustful is the deformity, consisting
in their disagreement.
4. This secondary kind of beauty, consisting in uni
formity and proportion, not only takes place in material
and external things, but also in things immaterial ; and is,
in very many things, plain and sensible in the latter, as
well as the former. And when it is so, there is no reason
why it should not be grateful to them that behold it, in
these as well as the other, by virtue of the same sense, or
the same determination of mind, to be gratified with uni
formity and proportion. If uniformity and proportion be
the things that affect and appear agreeable to this sense of
beauty, then why should not uniformity and proportion
affect the same sense in immaterial things as well as ma
terial, if there be equal capacity of discerning it in both ?

Chap. III.

CONCERNING THE SECONDARY BEAUTY.

129

and indeed more in spiritual things (ceteris paribus) as
these are more important than things merely external and
material ?
This is not only reasonable to be supposed, but is evi
dent in fact, in numberless instances. There is a beauty
of order in society, besides what consists in benevolence,
or can be referred to it, which is of the secondary kind.
As, when the different members of society have all their
appointed office, place, and station, according to their
several capacities and talents, and every one keeps his
place, and continues in his proper business. In this there
is a beauty, not of a different Kind from the regularity of
a beautiful building, or piece of skilful architecture, where
the strong pillars are set in their proper place, the pilasters
in a place fit for them, the square pieces of marble in the
pavement, the pannels, partitions, and cornices, &c. in
places proper for them. As the agreement of a variety of
things in one common design, — as of the parts of a build
ing, or complicated machine, — is one instance of that regu
larity which belongs to the secondary kind of beauty, so
there is the same kind of beauty in what is called wisdom,
consisting in the united tendency of thoughts, ideas, and
particular volitions, to one general purpose : which is a
distinct thing from the goodness of that general purpose, as
being useful and benevolent.
There is a beauty in the virtue called just ice, which con
sists in the agreement of different things, that have rela
tion to one another, in nature, manner, and measure ; and
therefore is the very same sort of beautv with that uni
formity and proportion, which, is observable in those ex
ternal and material things that are esteemed beautiful.
There is a natural agreement and adaptedness of things
that have relation one to another, and an harmonious cor
responding of one thing with another. He who from his
will does evil to others, should receive evil from the will of
him or them whose business it is to take care of the in
jured, and to act in their behalf, in proportion to the evil
of his doings. Things are in natural regularity and mutual
agreement, in a literal sense, when he whose heart opposes
the general system, should have the hearts of that system,
or the heart of the ruler of the system, against him ; and,
in consequence, should receive evil, in proportion to the evil
tendency of the opposition of his heart. So, there is an
agreement in nature and measure, when he that loves has
the proper returns of love; when he that from his heart
promotes the good of another, has his good promoted by the
other; for there is a kind of justice in becoming gratitude.
Indeed most of the duties incumbent onus, if well con
sidered, will be found to partake of the nature of justice.
There is some natural agreement of one thing to another ;
some adaptedness of the agent to the object ; some answer-
ableness of the act to the occasion ; some equality and
proportion in things of a similar nature, and of a direct
relation one to another. So it is in relative duties ; duties
of children to parents, and of parents to children; duties
of husbands and wives ; duties of rulers and subjects ;
duties of friendship and good neighbourhood ; and all
duties that we owe to God, our creator, preserver, and
benefactor; and all duties whatsoever, considered as re
quired by God, and as what are to be performed with a
regard to Christ.
It is this secondary kind of beauty, which Mr. Wollas-
ton seems to have had in his eye, when he resolved all
virtue into an agreement of inclinations, volitions, and ac
tions with truth. He evidently has respect to the justice
there is in virtues and duties ; which consists in one being
expressing such affections, and using such a conduct,
towards another, as hath a natural agreement and propor
tion to what is in them, and what we receive from them :
which is as much a natural conformity of affection and
action with its ground, object, and occasion, as that which
is between a true proposition and the thing spoken of in it.
But there is another and higher beauty in true vjrtue,
and in all truly virtuous dispositions and exercises, than
what consists in any uniformity or similarity of various
things ; viz. the union of heart to being in general, or to
God, the Being of beings, which appears in those virtues;
and of which those virtues, when true, are the various ex
pressions or effects. Benevolence to being in general, or
to being simply considered, is entirely a distinct thing
vol. I. K

from uniformity in the midst of variety, and is a superior
kind of beauty.
It is true, that benevolence to being in general, will
naturally incline to justice, or proportion in the exercises
of it. He that loves being, simply considered, will na
turally, other things being equal, love particular beings, in
a proportion compounded of the degree of being, and the
degree of virtue, or benevolence to being, which they have.
And that is to love beings in proportion to their dignity.
For the dignity of any being consists in those two things.
Respect to being, in this proportion, is the first and most
general kind of justice ; which will produce all the subor
dinate kinds. So that, after benevolence to being in
general exists, the proportion which is observed in objects
may be the cause of the proportion of benevolence to those
objects : but no proportion is the cause or ground of the
existence of such a thing as benevolence to being. The
tendency of objects to excite that degree of benevolence,
which is proportionable to the degree of being, &c. is the
consequence of the existence of benevolence, and not the
ground of it. Even as a tendency of bodies one to an
other, by mutual attraction, in proportion to the quantity
of matter, is the consequence of the being of such a thing
as mutual attraction ; and not attraction the effect of pro
portion. By this it appears, that just affections and acts have a
beauty in them, distinct from and superior to the uniformity
and equality there is in them : for which, he that has a
truly virtuous temper, relishes and delights in them. And
that is the expression and manifestation there is in them
of benevolence to being in general. And besides this,
there is the agreement of justice to the will and command
of God ; and also something in the tendency and conse
quences of justice, agreeable to general benevolence, as the
glory of God, and the general good. Which tendency also
makes it beautiful to a truly virtuous mind. So that the
tendency of general benevolence to produce justice, also
the tendency of justice to produce effects agreeable to
general benevolence, both render justice pleasing to a
virtuous mind. And it is on these accounts chiefly, that
justice is grateful to a virtuous taste, or a truly benevolent
heart. But though it be true, that the uniformity and
Eroportion there is in justice, is grateful to a benevolent
eart, as this uniformity and proportion tends to the general
good ; yet that is no argument that there "is no other beauty
m it but its agreeing with benevolence. For so the ex
ternal regularity and order of the natural world gratifies
benevolence, as it is profitable, and tends to the general
good ; but that is no argument that there is no other sort
of beauty in external uniformity and proportion, but only
its suiting benevolence, by tending to the general good.
5. From all that has been observed concerning this
secondary kind of beauty, it appears, that the disposition,
which consists in a determination of mind to approve and
be pleased with this beauty, considered simply and by
itself, has nothing of the nature of true virtue, and is en
tirely a different thing from a truly virtuous taste. For it
has been shown, that this kind of beauty is entirely diverse
from the beauty of true virtue, whether it takes place in
material or immaterial things ; and therefore it will follow,
that a taste of this kind of beauty is entirely a different
thing from a taste of true virtue. Who will affirm, that a
disposition to approve of the harmony of good music, or
the beauty of a square, or equilateral triangle, is the same
with true holiness, or a truly virtuous disposition of mind ?
It is a relish of uniformity and proportion that determines
the mind to approve these things. And there is no need
of any thing higher, or of any thing in any respect diverse,
to determine the mind to approve and be pleased with equal
uniformity and proportion among spiritual things which
are equally discerned. It is virtuous to love true virtue,
as that denotes an agreement of the heart with virtue. But
it argues no virtue for the heart to be pleased with that
which is entirely distinct from it.
Though it be true, that there is some analogy in it to
spiritual and virtuous beauty — as far as material things
can have analogy to things spiritual, of which they can
have no more than a shadow — yet, as has been observed,
men do not approve it because of any such analogy per
ceived. And not only reason but experience plainly shows,

130

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

that men's approbation of tms sort of beauty does not
spring from any virtuous temper, and has no connexion
with virtue. For otherwise their delight in the beauty of
squares, and cubes, and regular polygons, in the regularity
of buildings, and the beautiful figures in a piece of em
broidery, would increase in proportion to men's virtue ;
and would be raised to a great height in some eminently
virtuous or holy men ; but would be almost wholly lost in
some others that are very vicious and lewd. It is evident
in fact, that a relish of these things does not depend on
general benevolence, or any benevolence at all to any being
whatsoever, any more than a man's loving the taste of
honey, or his being pleased with the smell of a rose. A
taste of this inferior beauty in things immaterial, is one
thing which has been mistaken by some moralists, for a
true virtuous principle, supposed to be implanted naturally
in the hearts of all mankind.

CHAP. IV.
Of self-love, and its various influence, to cause love to
others, or the contrary.
Many assert, that all love arises from self-love. In
order to determine this point, it should be clearly deter
mined what is meant by self-love. Self-love, I think, is
generally defined " a man's love of his own happiness ;"
which is short, and may be thought very plain : but in
reality is an ambiguous definition, as the expression his
own, is equivocal, and liable to be taken in two very dif
ferent senses. For a man's own happiness may either be
taken universally, for all the happiness or pleasure of
which the mind is in any regard the subject, or whatever is
grateful and pleasing to men ; or it may be taken for the
pleasure a man takes in his own proper, private, and sepa
rate good. And so self-love may be taken two ways.
1. It may be taken' for the same as his loving whatso
ever is pleasing to him. Which comes only to this, that
self-love is a man's liking, and being suited and pleased in
that which he likes, and which pleases him ; or, that it is
a man's loving what he loves. For whatever a man loves,
that thing is grateful and pleasing to him, whether that be
his own peculiar happiness, or the happiness of others.
And if this be all that they mean by self-love, no wonder
they suppose that all love may be resolved into self-love.
For it is undoubtedly true, that whatever a man loves, his
love may be resolved into his loving what he loves. 
If by self-love is meant nothing else but a man's loving
what is grateful or pleasing to him, and being averse to
what is disagreeable, this is calling that self-love, wbich is
only a general capacity of loving or hating ; or a capacity
of being either pleased or displeased ; which is the same
thing as a man's having a faculty of will. For if nothing
could be either pleasing or displeasing, agreeable or dis
agreeable, to a man, then he could incline to nothing, and
will nothing. But if he is capable of having inclination,
will and choice, then what he inclines to, and chooses, is
grateful to him, whatever that be ; whether it be his own
private good, the good of his neighbours, or the glory of
God. And so far as it is grateful or pleasing to him, so
far it is a part of his pleasure, good, or happiness.
But if this be what is meant by self-love, there is an im
propriety and absurdity even in the putting of the question,
Whether all our love, or our love to each particular object
of our love, does not arise from self-love ? For that would
be the same as to inquire, Whether the reason why our
love is fixed on such and such particular objects, is not,
that we have a capacity of loving some things ? This may
be a general reason why men love or hate any thing at all ;
and therein differ from stones and trees, which love no
thing, and hate nothing. But it can never be a reason why
men s love is placed on such and such objects. That a
man in general loves, and is pleased with happiness, or has
a capacity of enjoying happiness, cannot be the reason why
such and such things become his happiness : as for in
stance, why the good of his neighbour, or the happiness
and glory of God, is grateful and pleasing to him, and so
becomes a part of his happiness.
Or if what they mean, who say that all love comes from

self-love, be not, that our loving such and such particular
persons and things arises from our love to happiness in
general, but from a love to our own happiness, which con
sists in these objects ; so, the reason why we love benevo
lence to our friends, or neighbours, is, because we love our
happiness, consisting in their happiness, which we take
pleasure in:— still the notion is absurd. For here the
effect is made the cause of that of which it is the effect :
our happiness, consisting in the happiness of the person
beloved, is made the cause of our love to that person.
Whereas the truth plainly is, that our love to the person is
the cause of our delighting or being happy in his happi
ness. How comes our happiness to consist in the happi
ness of such as we love, but by our hearts being first united
to them in affection, so that we as it were look on them as
ourselves, and so on their happiness as our own? Men
who have benevolence to others have pleasure when they
see others' happiness, because seeing their happiness grati
fies some inclination that was in their hearts before. They
before inclined to their happiness ; which was by benevo
lence or good-will ; and therefore, when they see their
happiness, their inclination is suited, and they are pleased.
But the being of inclinations and appetites is prior to any
pleasure in gratifying these appetites.
2. Self-love, as the phrase is used in common speech,
most commonly signifies a man's regard to his confined
private self, or love to himself with respect to his private
interest. By private interest I mean that which most immediately
consists in those pleasures, or pains, that are personal.
For there is a comfort, and a grief, that some have in
others' pleasures, or pains ; which are in others originally,
but are derived to them, or in some measure become
theirs, by virtue of a benevolent union of heart with others.
And there are other pleasures and pains that are originally
our own, and not what we have by such a participation
with others. Which consist in perceptions agreeable, or
contrary, to certain personal inclinations implanted in our
nature; such as the sensitive appetites and aversions.
Such also is the disposition or the determination of the
mind to be pleased with external beauty, and with all in
ferior, secondary beauty, consisting in uniformity, propor
tion, &c. whether in things external or internal, and to
dislike the contrary deformity. Such also is the natural
disposition in men to be pleased in a perception of their
being the objects of the honour and love of others, and
displeased with others' hatred and contempt. For plea
sures and uneasiness of this 1cind are doubtless as much
owing to an immediate determination of the mind by a
fixed law of our nature, as any of the pleasures or paius of
external sense. And these pleasures are properly of the
private and personal kind ; being not by any participation
of the happiness or sorrow of others, through benevolence.
It is evidently mere self-love that appears in this dispo
sition. It is easy to see, that a man's love to himself will
make him love lore to himself, and hate hatred to himself.
And as God has constituted our nature, self-love is exer
cised in no one disposition more than in this. Men, pro
bably, are capable of much more pleasure and pain through
this determination of the mind, than by any other per
sonal inclination or aversion whatsoever. Though per
haps we do not so very often see instances of extreme
suffering by this means, as by some others, yet we often
see evidences of men's dreading the contempt of others
more than death ; and by such instances may conceive
something what men would suffer, if universally hated and
despised ; and may reasonably infer something of the
greatness of the misery, that would arise under a sense of
universal abhorrence, in a great view of intelligent being
in general, or in a clear view of the Deity, as incompre
hensibly and immensely great, so that all other beings are
as nothing and vanity — together with a sense of his imme
diate continual presence, and an infinite concern with him
and dependence upon him — and living constantly in the
midst of most clear and strong evidences and manifesta
tions of his hatred and contempt. These things may be
sufficient to explain what I mean by private interest ; in
regard to which, self-love, most properly so called, is im
mediately exercised.
And here I would observe, that if we talte self-love in

Chap. IV.

OF SELF-LOVE AND ITS INFLUENCE.

131

this sense, so love to some others may truly be the effect
of self-love ; i. e. according to the common method and
order which is maintained in the laws of nature. For no
created thing has power to produce an effect any otherwise
than by virtue of the laws of nature. Thus, that a man
should love those who are of his party, and who are warmly
engaged on his side, and promote his interest, is the na
tural consequence of a private self-love. Indeed there is
no metaphysical necessity, in the nature of things, that
because a man loves himself, and regards his own in
terest, he therefore should love those that love him, and
promote his interest, i. e. to suppose it to be otherwise im
plies no contradiction. It will not follow from any abso
lute metaphysical necessity, that because bodies have
solidity, cohesion, and gravitation towards the centre of
the earth, therefore a weight suspended on the beam of a
balance should have greater power to counterbalance a
weight on the other side, when at a distance from the ful
crum, than when it is near. It implies no contradiction
that it should be otherwise ; but only as it contradicts
that beautiful proportion and harmony, which the Author
of nature observes in the laws of nature he has establish
ed. Neither is there any absolute necessity, that because
there is an internal mutual attraction of the parts of the
earth, or any other sphere, whereby the whole becomes
one solid coherent body, therefore other bodies that are
around it, should also be attracted by it, and those that
are nearest, be attracted most. But according to the order
and proportion generally observed in the laws of nature,
one of these effects is connected with the other, so that it
is justly looked upon as the same power of attraction in
the globe ofthe earth, which draws bodies about the earth
towards its centre, with that which attracts the parts of the
earth themselves one to another ; only exerted under dif
ferent circumstances. By a like order of nature, a man's
love to those that love him, is no more than a certain ex
pression or effect of self-love. No other principle is need
ful in order to the effect, if nothing intervenes to counter
vail the natural tendency of self-love. Therefore there is
no more true virtue in a man thus loving his friends mere
ly from self-love, than there is in self-love itself, the prin
ciple from whence it proceeds. So, a man being disposed
to hate those that hate him, or to resent injuries done him,
arises from self-love, in like manner as loving those thai
love us, and being thankful for kindness shown us.
But it is said by some, that it is apparent there is some
other principle concerned in exciting the passions of grati
tude and anger besides self-love, viz. moral sense, or sense
of moral beauty and deformity, determining the minds of
all mankind to approve of, anil be pleased with virtue, and
to disapprove of vice, and behold it with displicence ; and
that their seeing or supposing this moral beauty or de
formity, in the kindness of a benefactor, or opposition of
an adversary, is the occasion of these affections of gratitude
or anger. Otherwise, why are not these affections excited
in us towards inanimate things that do us good or hurt ?
Why do not we experience gratitude to a garden, or fruit
ful field ? And why are we not angry with a tempest, or
blasting mildew, or an overflowing stream ? We are very
differently affected towards those that do us good from the
virtue of generosity, or hurt us from the vice of envy and
malice, than towards things that hurt or help us, which are
destitute of reason and will. Concerning this, I would
make several remarks.
1 . Those who thus argue, that gratitude and anger can
not proceed from self-love, might argue in the same way,
and with equal reason, that neither can these affections
arise from love to others : which is contrary to their own
scheme. They say, that the reason why we are affected
with gratitude and anger towards men, rather than things
without life, is moral sense : which they say is the effect
of that principle of benevolence or love to others, or love
to the public, which is naturally in the hearts of all man
kind. But now I might say, according to their own way
of arguing, gratitude and anger cannot arise from love to
others, or love to the public, or any sense of mind that is
the fruit of public affection. For how differently are we
affected towards those that do good or hurt to the public
from understanding and will, and public motive, from what
we are towards such inanimate things as the sun and the
k 2

clouds, that do good to the public, by enlightening and en
livening beams and refreshing showers ; or mildew, and
an overflowing stream, that does hurt to the public, by de
stroying the fruits of the earth ! Yea, if such a kind of
argument be good, it will prove that gratitude and anger
cannot arise from the united influence of self-love, and
public love, or moral sense arising from public affection.
For, if so, why are we not affected towards inanimate
things, that are beneficial or injurious both to us and the
public, in the same manner as to them that are profitable
or hurtful to both on choice and design, and from benevo
lence or malice ?
2. On the supposition, that men love those who love
them, and are angry with those who hate them, from the
natural influence of self-love ; it is not at all strange that
the Author of nature, who observes order, uniformity, and
harmony in establishing its laws, should so order, that it
should be natural for self-love to cause the mind to be
affected differently towards exceedingly different objects ;
and that it should cause our heart to extend itself in one
manner towards inanimate things, which gratify self-love,
without sense or will, and in another manner towards
beings which we look upon as having understanding and
will, like ourselves, and exerting these faculties in our fa
vour, and promoting our interest from love to us. No
wonder, seeing we love ourselves, that it should be natural
to us to extend something of that same kind of love which
we have for ourselves, to them who are the same kind of
beings as ourselves, and comply with the inclinations of
our self-love, by expressing the same sort of love to
wards us.
3. If we should allow that to be universal, that in grati
tude and anger there is the exercise of some kind of moral
sense— as it is granted there is something that may be so
called — all the moral sense that is essential to those affec
tions, is a sense of desert ; which is to be referred to that
sense of justice, before spoken of, consisting in an appre
hension of that secondary kind of beauty that lies in uni
formity and proportion ; which solves all the difficulty in
the objection. Others' love and kindness to us, or their
ill-will and injuriousness, appear to us to deserve our love
or our resentment. Or, in other words, it seems to us no
other than just, that as they love us and do us good, we
also should love them and do them good. And so it
seems just, that when others' hearts oppose us, and they
from their hearts do us hurt, our hearts should oppose
them, and that we should desire themselves may suffer in
like manner as we have suffered, i. e. there appears to us
to be a natural agreement, proportion, and adjustment be
tween these things; which is indeed a kind of moral sense,
or sense of beauty in moral things. But, as was before
shown, it is a moral sense of a secondary kind, and is en
tirely different from a sense or relish ofthe original essen
tial beauty of true virtue ; and may be without any prin
ciple of true virtue in the heart. Therefore, doubtless, it
is a great mistake in any to suppose, that the moral sense
which appears and is exercised in a sense of desert, is the
same thing as a love of virtue, or a disposition and deter
mination of mind to be pleased with true virtuous beauty,
consisting in public benevolence. Which may be further
confirmed, if it be considered, that even with respect to a
sense of justice or desert, consisting in uniformity, and
agreement between others' actions, towards us, and our
actions towards them, in a way of well-doing, or of ill-
doing, it is not absolutely necessary to the being of these
passions of gratitude and anger, that there should be any
notion of justice in them, in any public or general view of
things : as will appear by what shall be next observed.
4. Those authors who hold, that the moral sense, which
is natural to all mankind, consists in a natural relish of the
beauty of virtue, and so arises from a principle of true vir
tue implanted by nature in the hearts of all, hold that true
virtue consists in public benevolence. Therefore, if the
affections of gratitude and anger necessarily imply such a
moral sense as they suppose, then these affections imply
some delight in the public good, and an aversion of the
mind to public evil. And if so, then every time a man
feels anger for opposition, or gratitude for any favour,
there must be at least a supposition of a tendency to public
injury in that opposition, and a tendency to public benefit

132

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

in the favour that excites his gratitude. But how far is
this from being true ! For instance ; a ship's crew enter
into a conspiracy against the master, to murder him, and
run away with the ship, and turn pirates : but before they
bring their matters to ripeness for execution, one of them
repents, and opens the whole design ; whereupon the rest
are apprehended and brought to justice. The crew are en
raged with him that has betrayed them, and earnestly seek
opportunity to revenge themselves upon him. And for an
instance of gratitude ; a gang of robbers that have long in
fested the neighbouring country, have a particular house
whither they resort, and where they meet from time to
time, to divide their booty, and hold their consultations for
carrying on their pernicious designs. The magistrates and
officers of the country, after many fruitless endeavours to
discover their secret place of resort, at length are well-in
formed where it is, and are prepared with sufficient force to
surprise them, and seize them all, at the place of rendez
vous, at an hour appointed, when they understand they
will all be there. A little before the arrival of the appoint
ed hour, while the officers with their bands are approaching,
some person is so kind to these robbers, as to give them
notice of their danger, so as just to give them opportunity
to escape. They are than'j'ul to him, and give him a
handful of money for his kindness. Now, in such instances,
I think it is plain, that there is no supposition of a public
injury in that which is the occasion of their anger ; yea,
they know the contrary. Nor is there any supposition of
public -good in that which excites their gratitude; neither
has public benevolence, or moral sense, consisting in a
determination to approve of what is for the public good,
any influence at all in the affair. And though there be
some affection, besides a sense of uniformity and propor
tion, that has influence in such anger and gratitude, it is
not public affection or benevolence, but private affection ;
yea, that affection which is to the highest degree private,
consisting in a man's love of his own person.
5. The passion of anger, in particular, seems to have
been unluckily chosen as a medium to prove a sense and
determination to delight in virtue, consisting in benevo
lence natural to all mankind. For if that moral sense
which is exercised in anger, were that which arose from a
benevolent temper of heart, being no other than a sense or
relish of the beauty of benevolence, one would think, a
disposition to anger should increase, at least in some pro
portion, as a man had more of a sweet, benign, and be
nevolent temper : which seems contrary to experience,
which shows that the less men have of benevolence, and
the more they have of a contrary temper, the more are
they disposed to anger and deep resentment of injuries.
And though gratitude be that which many speak of as
a certain noble principle of virtue, which God has im
planted in the hearts of all mankind ; and though it be
true there is a gratitude that is truly virtuous ; and the
want of gratitude, or an ungrateful temper, is truly vicious,
and argues an abominable depravity of heart ; yet I think,
what has been observed may serve to convince such as
impartially consider it, not only that not all anger, or
hating those which hate us, but also that not all gratitude,
or loving those which love us, arises from a truly virtuous
benevolence of heart.
Another sort of affections, which may be properly re
ferred to self-love, as its source, and which might be ex
pected to be the fruit of it, according to the general analogy
of nature's laws, is that of affections to such as are near
to us by the ties of nature. Such are those of whose
beings we have been the occasion, in whom we have a
very peculiar propriety, and whose circumstances, even
from the beginning of their existence, many ways lead
them to a high esteem of us, and to treat us with great
dependence, submission, and compliance. These the con
stitution of the world makes to be united in interest, and
accordingly to act as one, in innumerable affairs, with a
communion in each other's affections, desires, cares, friend
ships, enmities, and pursuits. As to the opinion of those
who ascribe the natural affection there is between parents
and children to a particular instinct of nature, I shall take
notice of it afterwards.
And as men may love persons and things from self-love,
so may theirlove to qualities and characters arise from the

same source. Some represent this, as though there were
need of a great degree of metaphysical refining to make
it out, that men approve of others from self-love, whom
they hear of at a distance, or read of in history, or see
represented on the stage, from whom they expect no profit
or advantage. But perhaps it is not considered, that what
we approve of in the first place is the character; and
from the character we approve the person. And is it a
strange thing, that men should from self-love like a temper
or character, which, in its nature and tendency, falls in
with the nature and tendency of self-love ; and which we
know by experience and self-evidence, without meta
physical refining, in the general tends to men's pleasure
and benefit ? And on the contrary, is it strange that any
should dislike what they see tends to men's pain and
misery ? Is there need of a great degree of subtilty and
abstraction, to make it out, that a child, who has heard
and seen much of what is calculated strongly to fix an idea
of the pernicious, deadly nature of the rattlesnake, should
have an aversion to that species from self-love ; so as to
have a degree of this aversion and disgust excited by seeing
even the picture of that animal ? And that from the same
self-love it should be pleased with a lively representation
of some pleasant fruit of which it has often tasted the
sweetness ? Or, with the image of some bird, which it has
always been told is innocent, and with whose pleasant
singing it has often been entertained ? Yet the child neither
fears being bitten by the picture of the snake, nor expects
to eat of the painted fruit, or to hear the figure of the bird
sing. I suppose none will think it difficult to allow, that
such an approbation or disgust of a child may be accounted
for from its natural delight in the pleasures of taste and
hearing, and its aversion to pain and death, through self-
love, together with the habitual connexion of these agree
able or terrible ideas with the form and qualities of these
objects, the ideas of which are impressed on the mind of
the child by their images.
And where is the difficulty of allowing, that a person
may hate the general character of a spiteful and malicious
man, for the like reason as he hates the general nature of
a serpent ; knowing, from reason, instruction, and expe
rience, that malice in men is pernicious to mankind, as
well as spite or poison in a serpent? And if a man may
from self-love disapprove the vices of malice, envy, and
others of that sort, which naturally tend to the hurt of
mankind, why may he not from the same principle approve
the contrary virtues of meekness, peaceableness, benevo
lence, charity, generosity, justice, and the social virtues in
general ; which, he as easily and clearly knows, naturally
tend to the good of mankind ? — It is undoubtedly true,
that some have a love to these virtues from a higher prin
ciple. But yet I think it as certainly true, that there is
generally in mankind a sort of approbation of them, which
arises from self-love.
Besides what has been already said, tbe same thing
further appears from this ; that men commonly are most
affected towards, and most highly approve, those virtues
which agree with their interest most, according to their
various conditions in life. We see that persons of low
condition are especially enamoured with a condescending,
accessible, affable temper in the great ; ' not only in those
whose condescension has been exercised towards themselves ;
but they will be peculiarly taken with such a character
when they have accounts of it from others, or when they
meet with it in history, or even in romance. The poor
will most highly approve and commend liberality. The
weaker sex, who especially need assistance and protection,
will peculiarly esteem and applaud fortitude and gene
rosity in those ofthe other sex, of whom they read or hear,
or which they have represented to them on a stage.
I think it plain from what has been observed, that as
men may approve, and be disposed to commend, a benevo
lent temper from self-love ; so the higher the degree of
benevolence is, the more may they approve of it. This
will account for some kind of approbation, from this prin
ciple, even of love to enemies, viz. as a man loving his
enemies is an evidence of a high degree of benevolence of
temper ; the degree of it appearing from the obstacles it
overcomes. And it may be here observed, that the con
sideration of the tendency and influence of self-love may

Chap. V

NATURAL CONSCIENCE, AND THE MORAL SENSE.

show, how men in general may approve of justice from
another ground, besides that approbation of the secondary
beauty there is in uniformity and proportion, which is
natural to all. Men, from their infancy, see the necessity
of it, not only that it is necessary for others, or for human
society ; but they find the necessity of it for themselves,
in instances that continually occur ; which tends to pre
judice them in its favour, and to fix an habitual approba
tion of it from self-love.
Again, that forementioned approbation of justice and
desert, arising from a sense of the beauty of natural agree
ment and proportion, will have a kind of reflex and indirect
influence to cause men to approve benevolence, and dis
approve malice ; as men see that he who hates and injures
others deserves to be hated and punished, and that he who is
benevolent and loves others, and does them good, deserves
himself also to be loved and rewarded by others, as they
see the natural congruity or agreement, and mutual adapt
edness, of these things. And having always seen this,
malevolence becomes habitually connected in the mind
with the idea of being hated and punished, which is dis
agreeable to self-love ; and ihe idea of benevolence is
habitually connected and associated with the idea of being
loved and rewarded by others, which is grateful to self-
love. And by virtue of this association of ideas, benevo
lence itself becomes grateful, and the contrary displeasing.
Some vices may become in a degree odious by the in
fluence of self-love, through an habitual connexion of ideas
of contempt with it ; contempt being what self-love ab
hors. So it may often be with drunkenness, gluttony,
sottishness, cowardice, sloth, niggardliness. The idea of
contempt becomes associated with the idea of such vices,
both because we are used to observe, that these things are
commonly objects of contempt, and also find, that they
excite contempt in ourselves. Some of them appear marks
of littleness, i. e. of small abilities, and weakness of mind,
and insufficiency for any considerable effects among man
kind. By others, men's influence is contracted into a
narrow sphere, and by such means persons become of less
importance, and more insignificant. And things of little
importance are naturally little accounted of. And some of
these ill qualities are such as mankind find it their interest
to treat with contempt, as they are very hurtful to human
society. — There are no particular moral virtues whatsoever,
but what in some or other of these ways, and most of
them in several, come to have some kind of approbation
from self-love, without the influence of a truly virtuous
principle ; nor any particular vices, but what, by the same
means, meet with some disapprobation.
This kind of approbation and dislike, through the joint
influence of self-love and association of ideas, is in many
vastly heightened by education. This is the means of a
strong, close, and almost irrefragable association, in innu
merable instances of ideas, which have no connexion any
other way than by education; and is the means of greatly
strengthening that association, or connexion, which persons
are led into by other means : as any one would be con
vinced, perhaps more effectually than in most other ways,
if they had opportunity of any considerable acquaintance
with American savages and their children.

CHAP. V.
Of natural conscience, and the moral sense.
There is yet another disposition or principle, of great
importance, natural to mankind ; which, if we consider
the consistence and harmony of nature's laws, may also
be looked upon as, in some sort, arising from self-love, or
self-union ; and that is, a disposition in man to be uneasy
in a consciousness of being inconsistent with himself, and
as it were against himself in his own actions. This ap
pears particularly in the inclination of the mind to be
uneasy in the consciousness of doing that to others, which
he should be angry with them for doing to him, if they
were in his case, and he in theirs ; or of forbearing to do
that to them, which he would be displeased with them for
neglecting to do to him.
I have observed, from time to time, that in pure love to

133
others, i. e. love not arising from self-love, there is an union
of the heart with others; a kind of enlargement of the mind,
whereby it so extends itself as to take others into a man's
self: and therefore it implies a disposition to feel, to de
sire, and to act as though others were one with ourselves.
So, self-love implies an inclination to feel and act as one
with ourselves ; which naturally renders a sensible incon
sistence with ourselves, and self-opposition in what we
ourselves choose and do, to be uneasy to the mind : which
will cause uneasiness of mind to be the consequence of a
malevolent and unjust behaviour towards others, and a
kind of disapprobation of acts of this nature, and an ap
probation of the contrary. To do that to another, which
we should be angry with him for doing to us, and to hate
a person for doing that to us, which we should incline to
and insist on doing to him, if we were exactly in the same
case, is to disagree with ourselves, and contradict our
selves. It would be for ourselves both to choose and
adhere to, and yet to refuse and utterly reject, the very
same thing. No wonder this is contrary to nature. No
wonder, that such a self-opposition, and inward war with
a man's self, naturally begets unquietness, and raises dis
turbance in his mind.
Thus approving of actions, because we therein act as in
agreement with ourselves ; and thus disapproving, and
being uneasy in the consciousness of disagreeing with our
selves, in what we do, is quite a different thing from ap
proving or disapproving actions because in them we are
united with being in general : which is loving or hating
actions from a sense of the primary beauty of true virtue,
and of the odiousness of sin. The former of these prin
ciples is private ; the latter is public, and truly benevolent
in the highest sense. The former — an inclination to agree
with ourselves — is a natural principle : but the latter — an
agreement or union of heart to the great system, and to
God the head of it, who is all and all in it — is a divine
principle. In that uneasiness now mentioned, consists very much
of that inward trouble men have from reflections of con
science : and when they are free from this uneasiness, and
are conscious to themselves, that in what they have acted
towards others, they have done the same which they should
have expected from them in the same case, then they have
what is called peace of conscience, with respect to these
actions. And there is also an approbation of conscience,
respecting the conduct of others towards ourselves. As
when we are blamed, condemned, or punished by them,
and are conscious to ourselves that if we were in their case,
and they in ours, we should in like manner blame, con
demn, and punish them. And thus men's consciences
may justify God's anger and condemnation. When they
have the ideas of God's greatness, their relation to him,
the benefits they have received from him, the manifest
ations he has made of his will to them, &c. strongly
impressed on their minds, a consciousness is excited within
them of those resentments, which would be occasioned in
themselves by an injurious treatment in any wise parallel.
There certainly is such a consciousness as this often
times within men, implied in the thoughts and views of
the mind, of which, perhaps on reflection, they could
hardly give an account. Unless men's consciences are
greatly stupified, it is naturally and necessarily suggested ;
and habitually, spontaneously, instantaneously, and, as it
were, insensibly, arises in the mind. And the more so for
this reason, that we have no other way to conceive of any
thing which other persons act or suffer, but by recalling
and exciting the ideas of what we ourselves are conscious
we have found in our own minds ; and by putting the
ideas which we obtain by this means in the place of an
other; or, as it were, substituting ourselves in their place.
Thus we have no conception, what understanding, per
ception, love, pleasure, pain, or desire are in others ; but
by putting ourselves as it were in their stead, or transfer
ring the ideas we obtain of such things in our own minds
by consciousness into their place; making such an alter
ation, as to degree and circumstances, as what we observe
of them requires. It is thus in all moral things that we
conceive of in others ; and indeed in every thing we con
ceive of, belonging to others, more than shape, size, com
plexion, situation, and motion of their bodies. And this

134

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

is the only way that we come to be capable of having ideas
of any perception or act even of the Godhead. We never
could have any notion what understanding or volition,
love or hatred are, either in created spirits or in God, if we
had never experienced what understanding and volition,
love and hatred, are in our own minds. Knowing what
they are by consciousness, we can deny limits, and remove
changeableness and other imperfections, and ascribe them
to God.
But though men in thinking of others do as it were put
themselves in their place, they do it so habitually, instan
taneously, and without set purpose, that they can scarce
give any account of it, and many would think it strange if
they were told of it. In all a man's thoughts of another
person, in whatever he apprehends of his moral conduct to
others or to himself, if it be in loving or hating him, ap
proving or condemning him, rewarding or punishing him,
he necessarily, as it were, puts himself in his stead ; and
therefore the more naturally, easily, and quietly sees
whether he, being in his place, should approve or condemn,
be angry or pleased as he is.
Natural conscience consists in these two things.
1 . In that disposition to approve or disapprove the moral
treatment which passes between us and others, from a de
termination of the mind to be easy or uneasy, in a con
sciousness of our being consistent or inconsistent with
ourselves. Hereby we have a disposition to approve our
own treatment of another, when we are conscious to our
selves that we treat him so as we should expect to be
treated by him, were he in our case and we in his ; and to
disapprove of our own treatment of another, when we are
conscious that we should be displeased with the like treat
ment from him, if we were in his case. So we in our con
sciences approve of another's treatment of us, if we are
conscious to ourselves, that if we were in his case, and he
in ours, we should think it just to treat him as he treats
us ; and disapprove his treatment of us, when we are con
scious that we should think it unjust, if we were in his
case. Thus men's consciences approve or disapprove the
sentence of their judge, by which they are acquitted or
condemned. But this is not all that is in natural con
science. Besides this approving or disapproving from un
easiness as being inconsistent with ourselves, there is
another thing that must precede it, and be the foundation
of it. As for instance, when my conscience disapproves
my own treatment of another, being conscious to myself,
that were I in his case, I should be displeased and angry
with him for so treating me ; the question might be asked,
What would be the ground of th_t supposed disapproba
tion, displeasure, and anger, which I am conscious would
be in me in that case ? Therefore,
2. The other thing which belongs to the approbation or
disapprobation of natural conscience, is the sense of desert
which was spoken of before ; consisting, as was observed,
in a natural agreement, proportion, and harmony, between
malevolence or injury, and resentment and punishment ;
or between loving and being loved, between showing kind
ness and being rewarded, &c. Both these kinds of ap
proving or disapproving, concur in the approbation or dis
approbation of conscience : the one founded on the other.
Thus, when a man's conscience disapproves of his treat
ment of his neighbour, in the first place, he is conscious,
that if he were in his neighbour's stead, he should resent
such treatment from a sense of justice, or from a sense of
uniformity and equality between such treatment, and re
sentment, and punishment; as before explained. And
then, in the next place, he perceives, that therefore he is
not consistent with himself, in doing what he himself
should resent in that case ; and hence disapproves it, as
being naturally averse to opposition to himself.
Approbation and disapprobation of conscience, in the
sense now explained, will extend to all virtue and vice ; to
every thing whatsoever that is morally good or evil, in a
mind which does not confine its view to a private sphere,
but will take things in general into its consideration, and is
free from speculative error. For, as all virtue or moral
good may be resolved into love to others, either God or
creatures ; so, men easily see the uniformity and natural
agreement there is between loving others, and being accept
ed and favoured by others. And all vice, sin, or moral

evil summarily consisting in the want of this love to others,
or in malevolence ; so, men easily seethe natural agreement
there is between hating and doing ill to others, and being
hated by them, and suffering ill from them, or from him
that acts for all, and has the care of the whole system.
And as this sense of equality and natural agreement ex
tends to all moral good and evil ; so, this lays a foundation
of an equal extent with the other kind of approbation and
disapprobation which is grounded upon it, arising from an
aversion to self-inconsistence and opposition. For in all
cases of benevolence, or the contrary, towards others, we
are capable of putting ourselves in the place of others, and
are naturally led to do it ; and so of being conscious to
ourselves, how we should like or dislike such treatment
from others. Thus natural conscience, if the understand
ing be properly enlightened, and stupifying prejudices are
removed, concurs with the law of God, is of equal extent
with it, and joins its voice with it in every article.
And thus, in particular, we may see in what respect this
natural conscience extends to true virtue, consisting in
union of heart to being in general, and supreme love to
God. For, although it sees not, or rather does not taste, its
primary and essential beauty, i. e. it tastes no sweetness in
benevolence to being in general, simply considered, for no
thing but general benevolence itself can do that, yet, this
natural conscience, common to mankind, may approve of
it from that uniformity, equality, and justice, which there is
in it ; and the demerit which is seen in the contrary, con
sisting in the natural agreement between the contrary, and
being hated of being in general. Men, by natural con
science, may see the justice, or natural agreement, there is
in yielding all to God, as we receive all from him ; and
the justice there is in being his that made us, and willingly
so, which is the same as being dependent on his will, and
conformed to it in the manner of our being ; as we are for
our being itself, and in the conformity of our will to his,
on whose will we are universally and most perfectly de
pendent. There is also justice in our supreme love to God;
a natural agreement in our having a supreme respect to
him who exercises infinite goodness to us, and from whom
we receive all well-being. Besides, disagreement and dis
cord appears worse to natural sense in things nearly re
lated, and of great importance : and therefore it must ap
pear very ill, as it respects the infinite Being, and that
infinitely great relation which there is between the Creator
and his creatures. And it is easy to conceive how natural
conscience should see the desert of punishment, in the
contrary of true virtue, viz. opposition and enmity to being
in general. For, this is only to see the natural agreement
there is between opposing being in general, and being op
posed by being in general ; with a consciousness how, if
we were infinitely great, we should expect to be regarded
according to our greatness, and should proportionably re
sent contempt. This natural conscience, if well-informed,
will approve of true virtue, and will disapprove and con
demn the want of it, and opposition to it; and yet with
out seeing the true beauty of it. Yea, if men's consciences
were fully enlightened, if they were delivered from being
confined to a private sphere, and brought to view, and con
sider things in general, and delivered from being stupified
by sensual objects and appetites, as they will be at the
day of judgment, they would approve nothing but true
virtue, nothing but general benevolence, and those affections
and actions that are consistent with it, and subordinate to
it. For they must see, that consent to being in general,
and supreme respect to the Being of beings, is most just;
and that every thing which is inconsistent with it, and
interferes with it, or flows from the want of it, is unjust, and
deserves the opposition of universal existence.
Thus has God established and ordered that this principle
of natural conscience, which, though it implies no such
thing as actual benevolence to being in general, nor any
delight in such a principle, simply considered, and so im
plies no truly spiritual sense or virtuous taste, yet should
approve and condemn the same things that are approved
and condemned by a spiritual sense or virtuous taste.
And that moral sense which is natural to mankind, so far
as it is disinterested, and not founded in association of
ideas, is the same with this natural conscience.
The sense of moral good and evil, and that disposition

Chap. V.

NATURAL CONSCIENCE, AND THE MORAL SENSE.

135

to approve virtue, and disapprove vice, which men have
by natural conscience, is that moral sense so much insisted
on in the writings of many of late. A misunderstanding
of this, seems to have misled those moralists who have
insisted on a disinterested moral sense, universal in the
world of mankind, as an evidence of a disposition to true
virtue, consisting in a benevolent temper, naturally im
planted in the minds of all men. Some of the arguments
used by these writers, indeed prove, that there is a moral
sense or taste, universal among men, distinct from what
arises from self-love. Though I humbly conceive, there is
some confusion in their discourses on the subject, and not
a proper distinction observed in the instances of men's
approbation of virtue, which they produce. Some of
which are not to their purpose, being instances of that ap
probation of virtue which arises from self-love. But other
instances prove, that there is a moral taste, or sense of
moral good and evil, natural to all, which do not properly
arise from self-love. Yet I conceive there are no instances
of this kind which may not be referred to natural con
science, and particularly to that which 1 have observed to
be primary in the approbation of natural conscience, viz.
a sense of desert, and approbation of that natural agree
ment there is, in manner and measure, in justice. But I
think it is plain from what has been said, that neither this,
nor any thing else wherein consists the sense of moral good
and evil, which there is in natural conscience, is of the
nature of a truly virtuous taste, or determination of mind
to relish and delight in the essential beauty of true virtue,
arising from a virtuous benevolence of heart.
But it further appears from this; if the approbation of
conscience were the same with the approbation of the incli
nation of the heart, or the natural disposition and deter
mination of the mind to love and be pleased with virtue,
then approbation and condemnation of conscience would
always be in proportion to the virtuous temper of the
mind ; or rather, the degree would be just the same. In
that person who had a high degree of a virtuous temper,
therefore, the testimony of conscience in favour of virtue
would be equally full : But he who had but little, would
have as little a degree of the testimony of conscience for
virtue, and against vice. But I think the case is evident
ly otherwise. Some men, through the strength of vice in
their hearts, will go on and sin against clearer light and
stronger convictions of conscience than others. If consci
ence, approving duty and disapproving sin, were the same
thing as the exercise of a virtuous principle of the heart,
in loving duty and hating sin, then remorse of conscience
will be the same thing as repentance ; and just in the same
degree as the sinner feels remorse of conscience for sin, in
the same degree is the heart turned from the love of sin to
the hatred of it, inasmuch as they are the very same thing.
Christians have the greatest reason to believe, from the
Scriptures, that in the future day of the revelation of the
righteous judgment of God, when sinners shall be called
to answer before their judge, and all their wickedness, in
all its aggravations, brought forth, arjd clearly manifested
in the perfect light of that day, and God will reprove
them, and set their sins in order before them, their con
sciences will be greatly awakened and convinced, their
mouths will be stopped, all stupidity of conscience will
be at an end, and conscience will have its full exercise ;
and therefore their consciences will approve the dreadful
sentence of the judge against them ; and seeing that they
have deserved so great a punishment, will join with the
judge in condemning them. And this, according to the
notion I am opposing, would be the same thing as their
being brought to the fullest repentance ; their hearts being
perfectly changed to hate sin and love holiness ; and
virtue or holiness of heart in them will be brought to the
most full and perfect exercise. But how much otherwise
have we reason to suppose it will then be ! Then the sin
and wickedness of their heart will come to its highest do
minion and completest exercise ; they shall be wholly left
of God, and given up to their wickedness, even as the
devils are ! When God has done waiting on sinners, and
his Spirit done striving with them, he will not restrain
their wickedness, as he does now. But sin shall then rage
in their hearts, as a fire no longer restrained or kept under.
It is proper for a judge when he condemns a criminal, to

endeavour so to set his guilt before him as to convince his
conscience of the justice of the sentence. This the
Almighty will do effectually, and do to perfection, so as
most thoroughly to awaken and convince the conscience.
But if natural conscience, and the disposition of the heart
to be pleased with virtue, were the same, then at the same
time that the conscience was brought to its perfect exercise,
the heart would be made perfectly holy ; or, would have
the exercise of true virtue and holiness in perfect benevo
lence of temper. But instead of this, their wickedness
will then be brought to perfection, and wicked men will
become very devils, and accordingly will be sent away as
cursed into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his
angels. But supposing natural conscience to be what has been
described, all these difficulties and absurdities are wholly
avoided. Sinners when they see the greatness of the Being
in contempt of whom they have lived with rebellion and
opposition, and have clearly set before them their obliga
tions to him, as their Creator, Preserver, Benefactor, &c.
together with the degree in which they have acted as
enemies to him, may have a clear sense of the desert of
their sin, consisting in the natural agreement there is be
tween such contempt and opposition of such a Being, and
his despising and opposing them ; between their being and
acting as so great enemies to such a God, and their suffer
ing the dreadful consequences of his being and acting as
their great enemy ; and dieir being conscious within them
selves of the degree of anger, which would naturally arise
in their own hearts in such a case, if they were in the place
and state of their judge. In order to these things, there is
no need of a virtuous benevolent temper, relishing and
delighting in benevolence, and loathing the contrary. The
conscience may see the natural agreement between oppos
ing and being opposed, between hating and being hated,
without abhorring malevolence from a benevolent temper
of mind, or without loving God from a view ofthe beauty
of his holiness. These things have no necessary depend
ence one on the other.

CHAP. VI.
Of particular instincts of nature, which in some respects
resemble virtue.
There are various dispositions and inclinations natural
to men, which depend on particular laws of nature, deter
mining their minds to certain affections and actions towards
particular objects; which laws seem to be established chiefly
for the preservation of mankind, and their comfortably
subsisting in the world. These dispositions may be called
instincts. Some of these instincts respect only ourselves personally :
such are many of our natural appetites and aversions.
Some of them are more social, and extend to others : such
are the mutual inclinations between the sexes, &c. — Some
of these dispositions are more external and sensitive : such
are those that relate to meat and drink, and the more sen
sitive inclinations of the sexes towards each other. Others
are more internal and mental : consisting in affections
which mankind naturally exercise towards some of their
fellow-creatures, and in come cases towards men in general.
Some of these may be called kind affections ; as having
something in them of benevolence, or a resemblance of it :
and others are of an angry appearance ; such as the pas
sion of jealousy between the sexes, especially in the male
towards the female.
It is only the former of these two last mentioned sorts
that it is to my purpose to consider in this place, viz.
those natural instincts which have the appearance of be
nevolence, and so in some respects resemble virtue. These
I shall therefore consider ; and shall endeavour to show,
that none of them can be ofthe nature of true virtue.
That kind affection which is exercised one towards
another in natural relation, particularly the love of parents
to their children, called natural affection, is by many re
ferred to instinct. I have already considered this sort of
love as an affection that arises from self-love ; and in that
view, have shown it cannot be of the nature of true virtue.

136

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

But if any think, that natural affection is more properly to
be referred to a particular instinct of nature than to self-love,
as its cause, I shall not think it a point worthy of any
controversy or dispute. In my opinion both are true ; viz.
that natural affection is owing to natural instinct, and also
that it arises from self-love. It may be said to arise from
instinct, as it depends on a law of nature. But yet it may
be truly reckoned as an affection arising from self-love ;
because, though it arises from a law of nature, yet that is
such a law as according to the order and harmony every
where observed among the laws of nature, is connected
with and follows from self-love; as was shown before.
However, it is not necessary to my present purpose to in
sist on this. For if natural affection to a man's children, or
near relations, is an affection arising from a particular in
dependent instinct of nature — which the Creator in his
wisdom has implanted in men for the preservation and
well-being of the world of mankind : yet it cannot be of
the nature of true virtue. For it has been observed, and, I
humbly conceive, proved before, (Chap. II.) that if any
being or beings have by natural instinct, or any other
means, a determination of mind to benevolence, extend
ing only to some particular persons or private system,
however large that system may be — or however great a
number of individuals it may contain, so long as it con
tains but an infinitely small part of universal existence,
and so bears no proportion to this great and universal sys
tem — such limited private benevolence, not arising from,
not being subordinate to, benevolence to being in general,
cannot have the nature of true virtue. However, it may
not be amiss briefly to observe now, that it is evident to a
demonstration, those affections cannot be of the nature of
true virtue, from these two things.
First, That they do not arise from a principle of virtue.
A principle of virtue, I think, is owned by the most con
siderable of late writers on morality to be general bene
volence or public affection : and I think it has been
proved to be union of heart to being simply considered ;
which implies a disposition to benevolence to being in
general. Now, by the supposition, the affections we are
speaking of do not arise from this principle ; and that,
whether we suppose they arise from self-love, or from par
ticular instincts : because either of those sources is diverse
from a principle of general benevolence. And,
Secondly, These private affections, if they do not arise
from general benevolence, and they are not connected with
it in their first existence, have no tendency to produce it.
This appears from what has been observed : for being not
dependent on it, their detached and unsubordinate operation
rather implies opposition to being in general, than general
benevolence ; as every one sees and owns with respect to
self-love. And there are the very same reasons why any
other private affection, confined to limits infinitely short
of universal existence, should have that influence, as well
as love that is confined to a single person. Now upon
the whole, nothing can be plainer than that affections which
do not arise from a virtuous principle, and have no ten
dency to true virtue, as their effect, cannot be of the nature
of true virtue.
For the reasons which have been given, it is undeniably
true, that if persons have a benevolent affection limited to
a party, or to the nation in general, of which they are a
part, or the public community to which they belong, though
it be as large as tbe Roman empire was of old ; yea, if
there could be a cause determining a person to benevo
lence towards the whole world of mankind, or even all
created sensible natures throughout the universe, exclusive
of union of heart to general existence and of love to God
— not derived from that temper of mind which disposes to
a supreme regard to him, nor subordinate to such divine
love — it cannot be of the nature of true virtue.
If what is called natural affection, arises from a particu
lar natural instinct, much more indisputably does that
mutual affection which naturally arises between the sexes.
I agree with Hutchison and Hume in this, that there is
a foundation laid in nature for kind affections between the
sexes, diverse from all inclinations to sensitive pleasure,
and which do not properly arise from any such inclination.
There is doubtless a disposition both to a mutual benevo
lence and mutual complacence, that are not naturally and

necessarily connected with any sensitive desires. But yet
it is manifest such affections as are limited to opposite
sexes, are from a particular instinct thus directing and
limiting them ; and not arising from a principle of
general benevolence ; for this has no tendency to any such
limitation. And though these affections do not properly
arise from the sensitive desires which are between the
sexes, yet they are implanted by the Author of nature
chiefly for the "same purpose, viz. the preservation or con
tinuation of the world of mankind. Hereby persons be
come willing to forsake father and mother, and all their
natural relations in the families where they were born and
brought up; for the sake of a stated union with a com
panion of the other sex, in bearing and going through
that series of labours, anxieties, and pains, requisite to the
being, support, and education of a family of children ; and
partly also for the comfort of mankind as united in a mar
riage-relation. But I suppose few, if any, will deny, that
the peculiar natural dispositions there are to mutual affec
tion between the sexes, arise from an instinct or particular
law of nature. And therefore it is manifest, from what has
been said already, that those natural dispositions cannot
be of the nature of true virtue.
Another affection which is owing to a particular instinct,
is that pity which is natural to mankind when they see
others in great distress. It is acknowledged, that such an
affection is natural to mankind. But I think it evident,
that the pity which is general and natural, is owing to a
particular instinct, and is not of the nature of true virtue.
I am far from saying, that there is no such thing as a truly
virtuous pity among mankind ; or, that none is to be found,
which arises from that truly virtuous divine principle of
general benevolence to sensitive beings. Yet at the same
time I think, this is not the case with all pity, or with
that disposition to pity which is natural to mankind in
common. I think I may be bold to say, this does not
arise from benevolence, nor is it properly called by that
name. If all that uneasiness on the sight of others' extreme
distress, which we call pity, were properly of tbe nature of
benevolence, then they who are the subjects of this pas
sion, must needs be in a degree of uneasiness in being
sensible of the total want of happiness, of all such as they
would be disposed to pity in extreme distress. For that
certainly is the most direct tendency and operation of be
nevolence or good will, to desire the happiness of its object.
But now this is not the case universally, where men are
disposed to exercise pity. There are many who would not
be sensibly affected with any uneasiness to know that
others were dead — yea men, who are not influenced by the
consideration of a future state, but view death as only a
cessation of all sensibility, and consequently an end of all
happiness — who yet would have been moved with pity
towards the same persons, if they had seen them under
some very extreme anguish. Some would be moved
with pity by seeing a brute-creature under extreme and
long torments, who yet suffer no uneasiness in knowing
that many thousands of them every day cease to live, and
so have an end put to all their pleasure. It is the nature
of true benevolence to desire and rejoice in the prosperity
and pleasure of its object ; and that, in some proportion to
its degree of prevalence. But persons may greatly pity
those that are in extreme pain, whose positive pleasure they
may still be very indifferent about. In this case, a man
may be much moved and affected with uneasiness, who
yet would be affected with no sensible joy in seeing signs
of the same person's enjoyment of very high degrees of
pleasure. Yea, pity may not only be without benevolence, but may
consist with true malevolence, or with such ill will as shall
cause men not only not to desire the positive happiness of
another, but even to desire his calamity. They may pity
such an one when his calamity goes beyond their hatred.
A man may have true malevolence towards another, desir
ing no positive good for him, but evil ; and yet his hatred
not be infinite, but only to a certain degree". And when
he sees the person whom he thus hates in misery far be
yond his ill will, he may then pity him : because then the
natural instinct begins to operate. For malevolence will
not overcome the natural instinct, inclining to pity others

Chap. VII.

THE REASONS OF MANY MISTAKES.

137

in extreme calamity, any further than it goes, or to the
limits of the degree of misery it wishes to its object. Men
may pity others under exquisite torment, when yet they
would have been grieved if they had seen their prosperity.
And some have such a grudge against another, that they
would be far from uneasy at their very death, nay, would
even be glad of it. And when this is the case, it is mani
fest that their heart is void of benevolence towards such
persons, and under the power of malevolence. Yet at the
same time, they are capable of pitying even these very
persons, if they should see them under a degree of misery
very much disproportioned to their ill will.
These things may convince us, that natural pity is of a
nature very different from true virtue, and not arising from
a disposition of heart to general benevolence ; but is owing
to a particular instinct, which the Creator has implanted,
chiefly for. the preservation of mankind, though not ex
clusive of their well being. The giving of this instinct is
the fruit of God's mercy, and an instance of his love to the
world of mankind, and an evidence, that though the world
be so sinful, it is not God's design to make it a world of
punishment ; and therefore has many ways made a merciful
provision of relief in extreme calamities. The natural
exercises of pity extend beyond those with whom we are
nearly connected, especially in cases of great calamity ;
because, commonly in such cases, men stand in need of
the help of others besides their near friends, and because
commonly those calamities which are extreme, without
relief, tend to their destruction. This may be given as the
reason why men are so made by the Author of nature, that
they have no instinct inclining as much to rejoice at the
sight of others' great prosperity and pleasure, as to be
grieved at their extreme calamity, viz. because they do not
stand in equal necessity of such an instinct as that in order
to their preservation. But if pure benevolence were the
source of natural pity, doubtless it would operate to as
great a degree in congratulation, in cases of others' great
prosperity, as in compassion towards them in great misery.
Tne instincts which in some respects resemble a virtuous
benevolence, are agreeable to the state that God designed
mankind for here, where he intends their preservation and
comfortable subsistence. But in the world of punishment —
where the state of the wicked inhabitants will be exceeding
different, and God will have none of these merciful de
signs to answer — we have great reason to think, there will
be no such thing as a disposition to pity, in any case ; as
also no natural affection toward near relations, and no
mutual affection between opposite sexes.
To conclude, natural instinct, disposing men to pity
others in misery, is also a source of a kind of abhorrence in
men of some vices, as cruelty and oppression ; and so of a
sort of approbation of the contrary virtues, humanity,
mercy, &c. which aversion and approbation, however, so
far as they arise from this cause only, are not from a prin
ciple of true virtue.

CHAP. VII.
The reasons why those things that have been mentioned,
which have not the essence of virtue, have yet by many
been mistaken for true virtue.
The first reason may be this, that although they have
not the specific and distinguishing nature and essence
of virtue, yet they have something that belongs to the
general nature of virtue. The general nature of true virtue
is love. It is expressed both in love of benevolence and
complacence ; but primarily in benevolence to persons
and beings, and consequently and secondarily in compla
cence in virtue, as has been shown. There is something of
the general nature of virtue in those natural affections and
principles that have been mentioned, in both those re
spects. In many of these natural affections there appears the
tendency and effect of benevolence, in part. Others have
truly a sort of private benevolence, but which in several
respects falls short of the extent of true virtuous benevo
lence, both in its nature and object. Pity to others in dis
tress, though not properly of the nature of love, as has been

demonstrated, yet has partly the same influence and effect
with benevolence. One effect of true benevolence is for
persons to be uneasy when the objects of it are in dis
tress, and to desire their relief. And natural pity has the
same effect.
Natural gratitude, though not properly called love — be
cause persons may be moved with a degree of gratitude
towards others on certain occasions for whom they have no
real and proper friendship ; as in the instance of Saul to
wards David, once and again, after David's sparing his
life, when he had so fair opportunity to kill him — yet has
the like operation and effect with friendship, in part, for a
season, and with regard to so much of the welfare of its
object, as appears a deserved requital of kindness received.
And in other instances, it may have a more general and
abiding influence, so as more properly to be called by the
name of love. So that many times men, from natural
gratitude, do really with a sort of benevolence, love those
who love them. From this, together with some other
natural principles, men may love their near friends, their
own party, their country, &c. The natural disposition
there is to mutual affection between the sexes, often oper
ates by what may properly be called love. There is often
times truly a kind both of benevolence and complacence.
As there also is between parents and children.
Thus these things have something of the general nature
of virtue. What they are essentially defective in, is, that
the\ are private in their nature ; they do not arise from any
temper of benevolence to being in general, nor have they
a tendency to any such effect in their operation. But yet
agreeing with virtue in its general nature, they are beautiful
within their own private sphere, i. e. they appear beautiful
if we confine our views to that private system, and while
we shut out all other things to which they stand related
from our consideration. If that private system contained
the sum of universal existence, their benevolence would
have true beauty ; or, in other words, would be beautiful,
all things considered ; but now it is not so. These private
systems are so far from containing the sum of universal
being, or comprehending all existence to which we stand
related, that it contains but an infinitely small part of it.
The reason why men are so ready to take these private af
fections for true virtue, is the narrowness of their views ;
and above all, that they are so ready to leave the Divine
Being out of their view, and to neglect him in their con
sideration, or to regard him in their thoughts, as though he
did not properly belong to the system of real existence, but
was a kind of shadowy, imaginary being. And though
most men allow that there is a God, yet, in their ordinary
view of things, his being is not apt to come into the ac
count, and to have the influence and effect of real existence,
as it is with other heings which they see, and are conver
sant with, by their external senses. In their views of
beauty and deformity, and in their inward sensations of
displicence and approbation, it is not natural to them to
view the Deity as part of the system, and as the head of
it, in comparison of whom all other things are to be viewed
with corresponding impressions.
Yea, we are apt, through the narrowness of our views,
in judging of the beauty of affections and actions, to limit
our consideration to only a small part of the created sys
tem. When private affections extend themselves to a con
siderable number, we are ready to look upon them as
truly virtuous, and accordingly to applaud them highly.
Thus it is with respect to a man's love to a large party, or
a country. For though his private system contains but a
small part even of the world of mankind, yet, being a con
siderable number, they — through the contracted limits of
his mind, and the narrowness of his views — are ready to
engross his sight, and to seem as if they were all. Hence,
among the Romans, love to their country was the highest
virtue ; though this affection of theirs, so much extolled,
was employed as it were for the destruction of the rest of
mankind. The larger the number is, to which that private
affection extends, the more apt men are, through the nar
rowness of their sight, to mistake it for true virtue ; because
then the private system appears to have more of the image
of the universal.
And this is the reason why self-love is not mistaken
for true virtue. For though there be something of the

138

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

general nature of virtue in it, as love and good wi'l, yet the
object is so private, the limits so narrow, that it by no
means engrosses the view ; unless it be of the person him
self, who through the greatness of his pride may imagine
himself as it were all. The minds of men are large enough
to take in a vastly greater extent. And though self-love
is far from being useless in the world, yea, it is exceeding
necessary to society ; yet every body sees that if it be not
subordinate to, and regulated' by, another more extensive
principle, it may make a man a common enemy to the
general system. And this is as true of any other private
affection, notwithstanding its extent may be to a system
that contains millions of individuals. And though private
systems bear no greater proportion to the whole of univer
sal existence, than one alone ; yet, they bear a greater pro
portion to the view and comprehension of men's minds,
and are more apt to be regarded as if they were all, or at
least as some resemblance of the universal system.
Thus I have observed how many of these natural princi
ples resemble virtue in its primary operation, which is
benevolence. Many of them also have a resemblance of it
in its secondary operation, which is its approbation of and
complacence in virtue itself. Several kinds of approba
tion of virtue, are not of the nature of a truly virtuous
approbation, consisting in a sense and relish ofthe essential
beauty of virtue. As particularly, the approbation of con
science, from a sense of the inferior and secondary beauty
which there is in virtue, consisting in uniformity ; and
from a sense of desert, consisting in a sense ofthe natural
agreement of loving and being beloved, showing kindness
and receiving kindness. So, from the same principle, there
is a disapprobation of vice, from a natural opposition to
deformity and disproportion ; and a sense of evil desert, or
the natural agreement there is between hating and being
hated, opposing and being opposed, &c. together with a
painful sensation naturally arising from a sense of self-
opposition and inconsistence. Approbation of conscience
is the more readily mistaken for a truly virtuous approba
tion, because by the wise constitution of the great Governor
of the world, when conscience is well informed, and
thoroughly awakened, it agrees with him fully and exactly,
as to the object approved, though not as to the ground and
reason of approving. It approves all virtue, and condemns
all vice, ft approves true virtue, and indeed approves
nothing that is against it, or that falls short of it ; as was
shown before. Natural conscience is implanted in all
mankind, to be as it were in God's stead, as an internal
judge or rule, whereby to distinguish right and wrong.
It has also been observed, how that virtue, consisting in
benevolence, is approved ; and vice, consisting in ill will,
is disliked ; from the influence of self-love, together with
the association of ideas. In the same manner, men dislike
those qualities in things without life or reason, with which
they have always connected the ideas of hurtfulness, ma
lignancy, pemiciousness ; but approve those things with
which they habitually connect the ideas of profit, pleasant
ness, &c. This approbation of virtue, and dislike of vice,
is easily mistaken for true virtue, not only because those
things are approved by it that have the nature of virtue,
and the things disliked have the nature of vice; but be
cause here is a great resemblance of virtuous approbation,
it being complacence from love ; the difference only lying
in this, that it is not from love to being in general, but from
self-love. There is also, as before shown, a liking of some virtues,
and a dislike of some vices, from the influence of the natural
instinct of pity. This we are apt to mistake for the exer
cise of true virtue on many accounts. Here is not only a
kind of complacence, and the objects of complacence have
the nature of virtue, and the virtues themselves are verv
amiable, such as humanity, mercy, tenderness of heart, Ike.
and the contrary very odious ; but besides, the approbation
is not merely from self-love, but from compassion ; an af
fection that respects others, and resembles benevolence, as
before explained.
Another reason why the things mentioned are mistaken
for true virtue, is, that there is indeed a true negative moral
goodness in them. By a negative moral goodness, 1 mean
the negation or absence of true moral evil. They have
this negative moral goodness, because being without them

would be an evidence of a much greater moral evil. Thus
the exercise of natural conscience in such and such de
grees, wherein appears such a measure of sensibility, though
it be not of the nature of real positive virtue, or true mora!
goodness, yet has a negative moral goodness ; because in
the present state of things, it is an evidence of the absence
of that higher degree of wickedness, which causes great
insensibility, or stupidity of conscience. For sin is not only
against a spiritual and divine sense of virtue, but is also
against the dictates of that moral sense which is in natural
conscience. No wonder, that this sense, being long op
posed and often conquered, grows weaker. AU sin has
its source from selfishness, or from self-love, not subordinate
to a regard to being in general. And natural conscience
chiefly consists in a sense of desert, or the natural agree
ment between sin and misery. But if self were indeed all,
and so more considerable than all the world besides, there
would be no ill desert in a man regarding himself above
all, and making all other interests give place to private in
terest. And no wonder that men, by long acting from the
selfish principle, and by being habituated to treat them
selves as if they were all, increase in pride, and come to
look on themselves as all, and so to lose entirely the sense
of ill desert in their making all other interests give place
to their own. And no wonder that any, by often repeating
acts of sin without punishment, or visible appearance of
approaching punishment, have less and less present sense
of the connexion of sin with punishment.
That sense which an awakened conscience has of the
desert of sin, consists chiefly in a sense of its desert of re
sentment from the Deity, the fountain and head of univer
sal existence. But no wonder that, by a long continued
worldly and sensual life, men more and more lose all sense
of the Deity, who is a spiritual and invisible Being. The
mind being long involved in, and engrossed by, sensitive
objects, becomes sensual in all its operations, and excludes
all views and impressions of spiritual objects, and is unfit
for their contemplation. Thus conscience and general be
nevolence, are entirely different principles; and thus a
sense of conscience differs from the holy complacence of a
benevolent and truly virtuous heart. Yet wickedness may
by long habitual exercise greatly diminish a sense of con
science. So that there may be negative moral goodness,
in sensibility of conscience, as it may be an argument of
the absence of that higher degree of wickedness, which
causeth stupidity of conscience.
So with respect to natural gratitude ; though there may
be no virtue merely in loving them that love us, yet the
contrary may be an evidence of a great degree of depravity,
as it may argue a higher degree of selfishness, so that a
man is come to look upon himself as all, and others as
nothing, and so their respect and kindness as nothing. Thus
an increase of pride diminishes gratitude. So doth sensu
ality, or the increase of sensual appetites ; which, coming
more and more under the power and impression of sensible
objects, tends by degrees to make the mind insensible to
any thing else. Those appetites take up the whole soul ;
and, through habit and custom, the water is all drawn out of
other channels, in which it naturally flows, and is all
carried as it were into one channel.
In like manner, natural affection, and natural pity,
though not of the nature of virtue, may be diminished
greatly by the increase of pride and sensuality ; and, as the
consequence of this, be habitually disposed to envy, ma
lice, &c. These lusts, when they prevail to a high degree,
may overcome and diminish the exercise of those natural
principles; even as they often overcome and diminish
common prudence in a man, who seeks his own private
interest in point of health, wealth, or honour ; and yet no
one will think it proves that a man being cunning in seek
ing his own personal and temporal interest, has any thing
of the nature and essence of true virtue.
Another reason why these natural principles and affec
tions are mistaken for true virtue, is, that in several re
spects they have the same effect which true virtue tends to ;
especially in these two ways :
1. The present state of the world is so constituted by
the wisdom and goodness of its supreme Ruler, that these
natural principles, for the most part, tend to the good of
mankind. So do natural pity, gratitude, parental affec-

Chap. VII.

THE REASONS OF MANY MISTAKES.

139

tion, &c. Herein they agree with the tendency of general
benevolence, which seeks and tends to the general good.
But this is no proof that these natural principles have the
nature of true virtue. For self-love is exceeding useful
and necessary ; and so are the natural appetites of hunger,
thirst, &c. Yet nobody will assert that these have the
nature of true virtue.
2. These principles have a like effect with true virtue in
this respect, that they tend several ways to restrain vice,
and prevent many acts of wickedness. So natural affec
tion, love to our party, or to particular friends, tends to
keep us from acts of injustice towards these persons ;
which would be real wickedness. Pity preserves from
cruelty, which would be real and great moral evil. Na
tural conscience tends to restrain sin in general. But this
cannot prove these principles themselves to be ofthe na
ture of true virtue. For so is this present state ordered by
a merciful God, that even self-love often restrains from
acts of true wickedness ; and not only so, but puts men
upon seeking true virtue ; yet is not itself true virtue, but
is the source of all the wickedness that is in the world.
Another reason why these inferior affections, especially
some of them, are accounted virtuous, is, that there are
affections of the same denomination which are truly virtu
ous. Thus, for instance, there is a truly virtuous pity> or
a compassion to others, under affliction or misery, from
general benevolence. Pure benevolence would be suf
ficient to excite pity to another in calamity, if there were
no particular instinct, or any other principle determining
the mind thereto. It is easy to see how benevolence, which
seeks another's good, should cause us to desire his deliver
ance from evil. And this is a source of pity far more ex
tensive than the other. It excites compassion in cases that
are overlooked by natural instinct ; and even in those cases
to which instinct extends, it mixes its influence with the
natural principle, and guides and regulates its operations.
And when this is the case, the pity which is exercised,
# In this chapter our very ingenious and judicious author has assigned
several reasons why many things are commonly thought to be virtuous
which in reality are not so, or have no claim to moral goodness in the pro
per acceptation of these words.
It is with some reluctance that we notice in this place a writer, who by
his masterly attack on modern infidelity and atheism, has rendered such
important service to the cause of truth and virtue; but who seems either to
have been dissatisfied with these reasons, or to have omitted a strict ex
amination of them when duty required it. Wo shall not here inquire into
the candour of Mr. Robert Hall's remarks, in associating President Ed
wards with modern infidels on the subject of virtue ; nor on the congruity
of the business, whereby a definition implying, and an explication declar
ing, the love of God to be essential to true virtue, is made to coincide with
a definition adopted by infidels, and consistent with atheism itself. These
are his words :
" It is somewhat singular, that many of the fashionable infidels have hit
upon a definition of virtue which perfectly coincides with that of certain
metaphysical divines in America, first invented and defended by that most
acute reasoner, Jonathan Edwards. They both place virtue exclusively in
a passion for the general good; or, as Mr. Edwards expresses it, love to
being in general : so that our love is always to be proportioned to the mag
nitude of its object in the scale of being ; which is liable to the objections I
have already stated, as well as to many others which the limits of this note
will not permit me to enumerate. Let it suffice to remark, (1) That vir
tue, on these principles, is an utter impossibility : for the system of being,
comprehending the great Supreme, is infinite ; and therefore, to maintain
the proper proportion, the force of particular attachment must be infinitely
less than the passion for the general good: but the limits of the human
mind are not capable of any emotions so infinitely different in degree. (2)
Since our views of the extent of the universe are capable of perpetual en
largement, admitting the sum of existence is ever the same, we must re
turn back at each step to diminish the strength of particular affections, or
they will become disproportionate ; and consequently, on these principles,
vicious: so that the balance must be continually fluctuating, by the
weights being taken out of one scale and put one into the other. (3) If vir
tue consist exclusively in love to being in general, or attachment to the
general good, the particular affections are, to every purpose of virtue, use
less, ana even pernicious ; for their immediate, nay, their necessary ten
dency is to attract to their objects a proportion of attention which far ex
ceeds their comparative value in the general scale. To allege that tbe
general good is promoted by them, will be of no advantage to the defence
of this system, but the contrary, by confessing that a greater sum of happi
ness is attained by a deviation from, than an adherence to, its principles;
unless its advocates mean by the love of being in general, the same thing
as the private affections, which is to confound all the distinctions of lan
guage, as well as all the operations of mind. Let it be remembered we
have no dispute respecting what is the ultimate end of virtue, which is al
lowed on both sides to be the greatest sum of happiness in the universe.
The question is merely what is virtue itself; or, m other words, what are
the means appointed for the attainment of that end ?
There is little doubt, from some parts of Mr. Godwin's work, entitled
' Political Justice,'' as well as from his early habits of reading, that he
was indebted to Mr. Edwards for his principal arguments against the pri
vate affections ; though, with a daring consistence, he has pursued his prin
ciples to an extreme from which that most excellent man would have re
volted with horror. —The fundamental error of the whole system arose, as
I conceive, from a mistaken pursuit of simplicity ; from a wish to construct
a moral system, without leaving sufficient scope for the infinite variety of
moral phenomena and mental combination ; in consequence of which its
advocates were induced to place virtue exclusively in some one disposition
of mind ; and, since the passion for the general good is undeniably the

may be called a virtuous compassion. So there is a virtu
ous gratitude; or a gratitude that arises not only from
self-love, but from a superior principle of disinterested
general benevolence. As, when we receive kindness from
such as we love already, we are more disposed to gratitude,
and disposed to greater degrees of it, than when the mind
is destitute of any such friendly prepossession. Therefore,
when the superior principle of virtuous love has a govern
ing hand, and regulates the affair, it may be called a virtu
ous gratitude. There is also a virtuous love of justice,
arising from pure benevolence to being in general ; as that
naturally ana necessarily inclines the heart, that every par
ticular being should have such a share of benevolence as
is proportioned to its dignity, consisting in the degree of
its being, and the degree of its virtue. And thus it is easy
to see, how there may be a virtuous sense of desert different
from what is natural and common; and a virtuous con
scientiousness^ or a sanctified conscience. And as, when
natural affections have their operations mixed with the in
fluence of virtuous benevolence, and are directed and de-
termmed thereby, they may be called virtuous ; so there
may be a virtuous love of parents to children, and between
other near relatives ; a virtuous love of our town, or coun
try, or nation. Yea, and a virtuousr\ove between the sexes,
as there may be the influence of virtue mingled with
instinct ; and virtue may govern with regard to the par
ticular manner of its operation, and may guide it to
such ends as are agreeable to the great purposes of true
virtue. *
Genuine virtue prevents that increase of the habits of
pride and sensuality, which tend to diminish the exercises
of the useful and necessary principles of nature. And a
principle of general benevojence softens and sweetens the
mind, makes it more susceptible of the proper influence of
the gentler natural instincts, directs every one into its proper
channel, determines the exercise to the proper manner and
measure, and guides all to the best purposes *
noblest and most extensive of all others, when it was once resolved to place-
virtue in any one thing, there remained little room to hesitate which should:
be preferred. It might have been worth while to reflect, that in the na
tural world there are two kinds of attraction ; one, which holds several
parts of individual bodies in contact ; another, which maintains the union
of bodies themselves with the general system : and that, though the union
in the former case is much more intimate than in the latter, each is.
equally essential to the order of the world. Similar to this is the relation
which the public and private affections bear to each other, and their use in,
the moral system." (Modern Infidelity considered, p. 62, &c. Note, sixth
edition.) On this note, so very uncongenial with the body of the work ; we were
going to say, as unseemly, when connected with the discourse, as a deform
ing wart on a fair countenance, justice constrains us to make a few re
marks. 1. " Singular" indeed would it be to find an Atheist, or an infidel, who
should even approve of Edwards's definition, and still more " singular" to
find them maintaining, in conformity with his explanation of that defini
tion, that supreme love to God is of the essence of true virtue. But so far
are their definitions from " coinciding," that they differ toto cmlo. A pas
sionate attachment for the wolfare of a country, or " a passion for tbe ge
neral good," in any sense wherein this expression can be ascribed to infi
dels, is a representation not more different from that of President Edwards,
than Mr. Hall is different from Voltaire or D'Alembert. Our author's
meaning, as explained by himself, is as truly sublime as theirs is truly selfish
and contracted. For their definition had no regard to the Being of beings ;
but this adorable Being is necessarily included in Mr. E's definition, and
essential to it. We say, is " included," because the Supreme Being, toge
ther with every derived existence, is contained in "being in general."
2. If by " a metaphysical divine" be meant " a most acute reasoner,"
we feel no objection in having the term " metaphysical" applied to our au
thor, for few, if any, have deserved it better. If error and absurdity ap
peal to metaphysical discussions, and involve the truth in a labyrinth of
sophisms, surely hard would be the case of a man who should be called by
an opprobrious name, for venturing into that labyrinth by the light of es
sential principles, in order to detect and expose false reasoning.
3. Mr. H. objects to the sentiment, " that our love is always to be propor
tioned to the magnitude of its object in the scale of being." We presume,
however, he will allow, that the whole system of being is in itself the most
worthy of being prized, other things being equal. But if so, the nature of
true virtue requires this regard to the whole system of being, compared
with its parts. Nor does it follow from this, that the same principle, in the
Progress of its operations, disregards the smaller circle of attachments.
urely a virtuous person, loving God supremely, is not, on that account,
less 'qualified for personal and domestic duties. Besides, Mr. E. does not
maintain that our love is always to be proportioned to the magnitude of its
object in the scale of being, except where other things are equal. This
he expressly and repeatedly mentions — " other things being equal." To
this important distinction Mr. H. does not appear to have adverted ; his re
presentation of the case, therefore, is defective, and calculated to mislead
the unwary.
4. Mr. H's statement in the first objection, does not distinguish between
the nature of the attachment and its force or degree. A uttle reflection
will fully show, that these are entirely distinct considerations. The great
est force, or the highest degree of attachment, may exist, when the nature
of it is not at all virtuous. If, indeed, attachment be made to include ac
curate knowledge, a divine relish, and deliberate estee?n in appreciating
the worth of any object, then the degree of attachment may be justly con
sidered as proportionate to the " magnitude of the object in the scale of
being," but not otherwise. A truly virtuous mother, for instance, may have
a great force of affection for her child, or husband, and be more conscious of

140

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

CHAP. VIII.
In what respects virtue or moral good is founded in senti
ment ; and how far it is founded in the reason and nature
of things.
Virtue is a certain kind of beautiful nature, form or
quality. That form or quality is called beautiful, which
appears in itself agreeable or comely, or the view of which
it than of her love to God ; but let her be put to the test of deliberate esteem,
and she would sooner part with child, husband, or life itself, than renounce
her supreme love to God.
5. Our author's representation of true virtue, by no means implies, as Mr.
H. supposes, that the degree or force of attachment, in its operation, should
bear an exact proportion to the magnitude of its object The nature of
virtue indeed is to be denominated according to its object, but its degree
must necessarily be measured pro captu agentis. The nature of love to
God may be the same in the heart of a child, as in that of an angel, because
the object of it is the same ; but the degree of it will be as differently varied
as the views and capacities of the subjects. It is not a little surprising how
Mr. H. came to imagine, that our author held the sentiment he is pleased
to ascribe to him, a sentiment so absurd as to be held, we apprehend, by no
person in the world ; a sentiment which requires an infinite force of affec
tion from a finite being, an affection equal in degree to that of his Maker.
6. So far is the exercise of virtue, according to Mr. E's definition, from
being an impossibility, that we think he has fully proved, there can be no
true virtue on any other principle. To illustrate this, suppose a man has a
strong attachment to himsiljf but none to his family ; will that force of af
fection constitute him virtuous? Again, suppose his affection, with any as
signable force, be extended to his family, but repels the well-founded claims
of a whole nation, can that be virtuous ? Or if he extend his force of affec
tion to a whole nation, if it repels all the human race beside, can it be vir
tuous ? Moreover, suppose tus ardent affection embrace the whole human
kind, can it be virtuous while it repels all other created beings ? Or if, to
gether with himself, he feels an affectionate attachment, in different and
proportionate degrees, to every created being, but repels the Creator of all,
can that forcible and orderly affection be denominated truly virtuous ? If
the reply be in the affirmative, then an atheist may be virtuous, which is
absurd. Therefore, attachment to the Supreme Being, or to being in ge
neral, is essential to the very nature of true virtue.
7. No one yet denied, except those who deny the being of a God, that su
preme love to him is virtuous, if any thing be so. The great Supreme is
infinite, and if he ought not to be loved according to his greatness, what
constitutes the crime of Idolatry ? And if supreme love to an infinite being
were inconsistent with subordinate attachments, we ought to extinguish the
supremacy of our love to God, before we could discharge our duty to our
fellow-creatures, which every one must allow to be preposterous.
8. As the second objection is founded on the same principle which was
assumed in the first, it has been already virtually answered. But it may
be controverted on another account That *' extended views" diminish
the strength of particular affections, does not appear consonant with expe
rience. Is it consistent with experience, that the acquisition of a second
friend must rob the first of a moiety of his friendly affection ? Does a pa
rent experience any diminution of affection to a first child, in proportion to
a subsequent increase of number ? Has a tenth child but a tenth part of a
mother's former affection to her first ? Does a man love his neighbour the
less because his views are extended to an infinite object ? Or when the
heart, or supremacy of affection, is fixed on God, is virtuous affection to
man diminished?
9. Besides, this objection proceeds on another gratuitous principle, viz.
that there may be true virtue, or virtuous affection, when our views of
existence do not include God. For if we vieto him, we view an object in
finite and unchangeable, who is all in all, and the sum of existence. That
our views of the extent of the created universe are capable of perpetual
enlargement is no good reason why " particular affections" should fluc
tuate, become disproportionate, or vicious ; any more than the love of God
should constitute the love of our neighbour criminal. So that there is no
necessity for " the balance to be continually fluctuating by the weights
being taken out of one scale and put into the other ;" except it be by cor
recting past mistakes, as those do, who, when grown up to manhood, put
away childish things.
10. Virtuous love, however forcible to oneself, to relatives, to a nation, to
mankind, or to the whole created universe, is not virtuous because of this
particular, private, or limited attachment, but because of its tendency to
God, except we prostitute the term virtue to signify something claimed
equally by the worst and the best of men. And this general attachment, or
love to God and universal being, does not at all counteract, or even lessen,
the commendable force of private ones, any more than the force of general
gravity tends to destroy the force of cohesion.
11. Mr. H's third ana last objection, like the preceding ones, rests on a
mistaken apprehension of Mr. E's real sentiment Mr. H. still confounds
the nature of attachment with its degree. If virtue, according to Mr. E.
consists exclusively in love to being in general, his meaning is, that no
force of affection which has not universal being for its ultimate object, can
be virtuous, in the most proper sense of the word. He cannot mean that
there is no virtuous love to particular beings; for, in perfect consistency
with his views, even a love of ourselves may be virtuous, as well as a love
of our neighbour. What he maintains, then, is, that the love of ourselves,
of our neighbour, our nation, or any private system whatever, if detached
from a tendency of affection to universal being, is not truly virtuous. And
what is this, more or less, than what all judicious divines have maintained,
that he who does not really love God, does not truly love his neighbour ?
If Mr. E. uses language more philosophically exact, and investigates the
principle ou which a commonly received truth is founded, he certainly
deserves commendation, rather than blame.
12. On Mr. E's principles, the particular affections are so far from being
" useless," that their operations are not at all affected by those principles,
except in being more exalted and refined. When the heart is enlarged to
the love of being in general, it includes all particular objects; ana then
the attachment to them is for the sake of the whole system of being. Thus
a truly virtuous Jove of our neighbour, springs from our love to God : or
without a supreme regard to God, there is no genuine, or, in the highest
sense, praiseworthy, love to our neighbour. And so far are particular affec
tions from being " pernicious," on Mr. E's principles, that they are highly
useful Those objects which contain, or are apprehended to contain, only
a secondary beauty, attract a particular affection which is useful in various
respects, as explained by our author ; and those which contain the primary
beauty, attract affections still more useful. For governors, and subjects,
and friends, and relatives to feel attachment to their subjects, governors,
friends, and relatives, must be useful, even when not virtuous; but when
these attachments are animated, regulated, and ennobled by the love of

is immediately pleasant to the mind. I say, agreeable in
itself, and immediately pleasant, to distinguish it from things
which in themselves are not so, but either indifferent or dis
agreeable ; which yet appear eligible, and agreeable m-
directly, for something else with which they are connected.
Such indirect agreeableness, or eligibleness in things not
for themselves, but for something else, is not beauty. But
when a form or quality appears lovely, pleasing, and de
lightful in itself, then it is called beautiful; and this agree-
God, or benevolence to universal being, they must be still more so. Be
nevolent affections are like a pleasant flame ; a flame which is not lessened
by an addition of fuel. Zeal at home is not found in fact to be weakened
by the extension of zealous and benevolent affections abroad. National
reform, and religious revival, will not be impeded by a truly benevolent
missionary spirit Neither will the love of God, or of universal being, prove
detrimental to " particular affections."
13. Respecting the "particular affections," Mr. H. remarks, that " their
immediate, nay their necessary tendency is, to attract to their object a pro
portion of attention, which far exceeds their comparative value in the
general scale." But surely " attention" is a very different thing from
"attachment" A man who is about to buy ahorse, has his attention at
tracted very forcibly to the size, the shape, the age, and the action of the
animal; but does this imply attachment. Tbe word Satan may attract
our " attention" to the malevolent being signified by it ; but does this prove
that the " immediate, nay the necessary tendency" ofthe word is to attract
to this object any degree of " attachment ?" It would be difficult to find
either man, woman, or child, but has much " attention attracted" to what
he does not esteem, and to which he feels no attachment If a person feels
an attachment to any object not founded on the " comparative value" of
that object, let the " particular affection" be denominated as we please, but
let us not attach to it the idea of true virtue. For why should we be
tempted to call that truly virtuous which has no relation to God, the object
and fountain of all excellence ?
14. It is but justice to our author to say, that his definition of virtue,
against which Mr. H. objects, by no means countenances that perversion of
our powers wliich is but too justly ascribed to modern infidels. No one
acting on the principles of this Dissertation, will be less amiable in private
life, than when acting on any others which Mr. H. might point out This
hypothesis, which we oelieve is the scriptural one, and which, in substance,
has been maintained by theological writers and holy men of every age,
pours no shilling influence on the affections, encourages no unscriptural dis
regards or antipathies in society, nor does it countenance any neglect of
private duties under pretence of public utility. We are assured, by an
authority from which, in the views of Christians, there lies no appeal, that
" to love God with all our heart," is tbe first and great commandment
We would fain know, if knowable, wherein this requisition differs from that
which is implied in Mr. E's notion of true virtue? Moreover, whether
loving God with all our heart is calculated to render " the particular
affections, to every purpose of virtue, useless, and even pernicious ?" And,
once more, whether that act of the mind which is compatible with a rejec
tion of what the divine oracle thus requires, cau in any propriety of lan
guage, among Christians, be termed virtuous ?
15. " To allege," Mr. H. observes, " that the general good is promoted by
them will be no advantage to the defence of tins system." We apprehend
he means, that some may be disposed to allow, that the private affections,
though not virtuous, may yet promote the general good, on some other ac
count But the objector is under a mistake, if he suppose, as he apparently
does, that Mr. E. held any notion of true virtue which will admit no private
or "particular affections to be virtuous. In fact, the system explained iu
this Dissertation excludes no particular affection : but fully admits that any,
yea, that all of them ma if be virtuous, by a proper direction. Supreme love
to God, or attachment to universal being, is virtue per se ; but any other
affection, however public or private, particular or general, is a virtue ouly
relatively ; that is, only so far as it is a tendency to universal being. When
the affection terminates on any particular object witbout any relation in
its tendency to universal existence, it is not a mean of ultimate happiness iu
itself commendable, and therefore is not virtuous.
16. " We have no dispute," says Mr. H. " respecting what is the ulti
mate end of virtue — the question is. What is virtue itself?" Very true;
what is it ? We say, a love, an attachment, or a tendency of mind, to ge
neral or universal existence ; whatever be the immediate object of the will
or affections. If the affection be, for instance, that of parent to a child,
however strong in its operation, it is no further truly virtuous, than there is a
regard to God in it : or, a tendency to general being. But what is virtue
itself, according to Mr H. ? The answer is not given. Had Mr. H. thought
proper to give us a definition of virtue, we might compare notes, and form
an estimate. It is much easier to find fault than to amend it ; but this we
feel disposed to promise, that if the objector produce what he thinks abet
ter definition than what he opposes, we will endeavour to examine it with
impartiality. 17. Mr. H. supposes that the author of the work entitled " Political Jus
tice" was " indebted to Mr. Edwards for his principal arguments against
the private affections." Surely that author must possess a most perverse
kind of ingenuity, who could deduce any thing from the works of President.
Edwards against the private affections. Such ingenuity as an infidel some
times employs, when he is indebted to the writers of the Old er New Testa
ment for bis principal arguments against religion, and in favour of infidelity.
IS. "A mistaken pursuit of simplicity," Mr. H. supposes, attaches to this
system, whereby its advocates " place virtue exclusively in some one dis
position of mind." We conceive, there is just as much propriety in this
remark, as in the following : A mistaken pursuit of simplicity led a certain
writer to place conformity to law " exclusively" in some one disposition
of mind, where he says, that the law is fulfilled in one word, lovk. We
are not aware that it is a matter of doubt, whether morai acts, and conse
quently virtue, proceed from the will, or the heart ? and, as every exercise
of will or affection is not virtuous, it requires no long "pursuit of simplicity"
to determine that the virtuous character of the affection must arise from its
nature, rather than its degree ; and from its being directed to a worthy,
rather than an unworthy object
19. Mr. H. illustrates his meaning by two kinds of attraction; andsodoes
Mr. E. illustrate his. Private affections, or instincts, irrespective of their
virtuous quality, may be represented by the attraction of cohesion, where
by the several parts of individual bodies are held in contact A truly vir
tuous affection may be represented by the attraction of gravitation, which
maintains the union of bodies themselves with the general system. And,
" though the union in the former case is much more intimate than in the
latter," and " each is equally essential to the order of the worid:" yet
private affections, irrespective of their tendency to God, can with no more
propriety be respected as virtues, than cohesion can be termed gravita
tion.— W.

Chap. VIII.

WHETHER VIRTUE BE EOUNDED IN SENTIMENT.

141

ableness or gratefulness of the idea is beauty. It is
evident, that the way we come by the idea of beauty, is by
immediate sensation of the gratefulness of the idea called
beautiful; and not by finding out by argumentation any
consequences, or other things with which it stands con
nected ; any more than tasting the sweetness of honey, or
perceiving the harmony of a tune, is by argumentation on
connexions and consequences. The manner of being af
fected with the immediate presence of the beautiful idea,
depends not on any reasonings about the idea, after we
have it, before we can find out whether it be beautiful or
not ; but on the frame of our minds, whereby they are so
made, that such' an idea, as soon as we have it, is grateful,
or appears beautiful.
Therefore, if this be all that is meant by them who affirm
that virtue is founded in sentiment, and not in reason, that
they who see the beauty of true virtue do not perceive it by
argumentation on its connexions and consequences, but by
the frame of their own minds, or a certain spiritual sense
given them of God — whereby they immediately perceive
pleasure in the presence of the idea of true virtue in their
minds, or are directly gratified in the view or contempla
tion of this object — this is certainly true. But if thereby
be meant, that the frame of mind, or inward sense given
them by God, whereby the mind is disposed to delight in
the idea of true virtue, is given arbitrarily, so that if he
had pleased he might have given a contrary sense and
determination of mind, which would have agreed as well
with the necessary nature of things, this I think is not true.
Virtue, as I have observed, consists in the cordial con
sent or union of being to being in general. And that
frame of mind, whereby it is disposed to relish and be
pleased with the view of this, is benevolence, or union of
heart, to being in general ; or it is an universally benevo
lent frame of mind. Because, he whose temper is to love
being in general, must therein have a disposition to approve
and be pleased with love to being in general. Therefore,
now the question is, whether God, in giving this temper to
a created mind, acts so arbitrarily, that there is nothing in
the necessary nature of things to hinder, but that a con
trary temper might have agreed or consisted as well with
that nature of things as this ?
And in the first place, to assert this would be a plain
absurdity, and contrary to the very supposition. For here
it is supposed, that virtue in its very essence consists in
agreement or consent of being to being. Now certainly
agreement itself to being in general must necessarily agree
better with general existence, than opposition and contra
riety to it.
I observe, secondly, that God in giving to the creature
such a temper of mind, gives that which is agreeable to
what is by absolute necessity his own temper and, nature.
For, as observed, God himseif is in effect being in general;
and without all doubt it is in itself necessary, that God
should agree with himself, be united with himself, or love
himself: and therefore, when he gives the same temper to
his creatures, this is more agreeable to his necessary nature,
than the opposite temper : yea, the latter would be infinitely
contrary to his nature.
Let it be noted, thirdly, that by this temper only can
created beings be united to and agree with one another.
This appears, because it consists in consent and union to
being in general ; which implies agreement and union with
every particular being, except in such cases wherein union
with them is by some means inconsistent with union to
general existence. But certainly, if any particular created
being were of a temper to oppose being in general, that
would infer the most universal and greatest possible dis
cord, not only of creatures with their Creator, but of created
beings one with another.
Fourthly, There is no other temper but this, whereby a
man can agree with himself, or be without self-inconsistence,
i. e. without having some inclinations and relishes repug
nant to others ; and that for these reasons. Every being
that has understanding and will necessarily loves happiness.
For, to suppose any being not to love happiness, would be
to suppose he did not love what was agreeable to him ;
which is a contradiction : or at least would imply, that
nothing was agreeable or eligible to him, which is the same
as to say that he has no such thing as choice, or any faculty

of will. So that every being who has a faculty of will,
must of necessity have an inclination to happiness. And
therefore, if he be consistent with himself, and has not some
inclinations repugnant to others, he must approve of those
inclinations whereby beings desire the happiness of being
in general, and must be against a disposition to the misery
of being in general : because otherwise he would approve
of opposition to his own happiness. For if a temper in
clined to the misery of being in general prevailed univer
sally, it is apparent, it would tend to universal misery.
But he that loves a tendency to universal misery, in effect
loves a tendency to his own misery : and as he necessarily
hates his own misery, he has then one inclination repug
nant to another. And besides, it necessarily follows from
self-love, that men love to be loved by others ; because in
this others' love agrees with their own love. But if men
loved hatred to being in general, they would in effect love
the hatred of themselves ; and so would be inconsistent with
themselves, having one natural inclination contrary to
another. These things may help us to understand why that
spiritual and divine sense, by which those who are truly
virtuous and holy perceive the excellency of true virtue, is
in the sacred Scriptures called by the name of light, know
ledge, understanding, &c. If this divine sense were a thing
arbitrarily given, without any foundation in the nature of
things, it would not properly be called by such names.
For if there were no correspondence, or agreement, in such
a sense with the nature of things, any more than there
would have been in a contrary sense, the idea we obtain
by this spiritual sense could in no respect be said to be a
knowledge or perception of any thine besides what was in
our own minds. For this idea would be no representation
of any thing without. But since it is agreeable, in the re
spects above mentioned, to the nature of things; and
especially since it is the representation of the moral per
fection and excellency of the Divine Being ; hereby we have
a perception of that moral excellency, of which we could
have no true idea without it. And hereby persons have
that true knowledge of God, which greatly enlightens the
mind in the knowledge of divine things in general, and
which, as might be shown, if it were necessary to the main
purpose of this discourse, in many respects, assists persons
to a right understanding of things in general; viz. to see
the nature and truth of them, in their proper evidence.
Whereas, the want of this spiritual sense, and the preva
lence of those dispositions which are contrary to it, tends
to darken and distract the mind, and dreadfully to delude
and confound men's understandings.
Nor can that moral sense, common to mankind, which
there is in natural conscience, be truly said to be no more
than a sentiment arbitrarily given by the Creator, without
any relation to the necessary nature of things : but rather,
this is established in agreement with the nature of things ;
so established, as no sense of mind that can be supposed of
a contrary nature and tendency could be. This will ap
pear by these two things :
1. This moral sense — if the understanding be well in
formed, exercised at liberty, and in an extensive manner,
without being restrained to a private sphere — approves the
very same things which a spiritual and divine sense ap
proves ; and those things only ; though not on the same
grounds, nor with the same kind of approbation. There
fore, as that divine sense is agreeable to the necessary na
ture of things, as already shown ; so this inferior moral
sense, being so far correspondent to that, must also so far
agree with the nature of things.
2. It has been shown, that this moral sense consists in
approving the uniformity and natural agreement there is be
tween one thing and another. So that, by the supposition,
it is agreeable to the nature of things. For therein it con
sists, viz. a disposition of mind to consent to, or like, the
agreement of the nature of things, or the agreement of the
nature and form of one thing with another. And certainly,
such a temper of mind is more agreeable to the nature of
things than an opposite temper.
The use of language is to express our sentiments, or
ideas, to each other ; so that those terms by which things
of a moral nature are signified, express those moral senti
ments which are common to mankind. Therefore, that

142

THE NATURE OF TRUE VIRTUE.

mokal sense which is in natural conscience, chiefly
governs the use of language, and is the mind's rule of lan
guage in these matters. It is indeed the general natural
rule which God has given to all men, whereby to judge of
moral good and evil. By such words, right and wrong,
good and evil, when used in a moral sense, is meant m
common speech, that which deserves praise or blame, re
spect or resentment ; and mankind in general have a sense
of desert, by this natural moral sense-
Therefore, here is a question which may deserve to be
considered : seeing sentiment is the rule of language, as to
what is called good and evil, worthy and unworthy ; and it
is apparent that sentiment, at least as to many particulars,
is different, in different persons, especially in different na
tions — that being thought to deserve praise by one, which
by others is thought to be worthy of blame — how there
fore can virtue and vice be any other than arbitrary ; not
at all determined by the nature of things, but by the senti
ments of men with relation to the nature of things ?
In order to the answering of this question with clear
ness, it may be divided into two : viz. Whether men's sen
timents of moral good and evil are casual and accidental ?
And, whether their way of using words in what they call
good and evil, is not arbitrary, without respect to any
common sentiment conformed to the nature of things ?
As to the_.rs., I would observe, that the general dispo
sition or sense of mind, exercised in a sense of desert of
esteem or resentment, may be the same in all : though as
to particular objects and occasions with regard to which it
is exercised, it may be very various in different men, or
bodies of men, through the partiality or error that may at
tend the view or attention of the mind. In all, a notion of
desert of love or resentment, may consist in the same thing,
in general — a suitableness, or natural uniformity and agree
ment, between the affections and acts of the agent, and the
affections and treatment of others some way concerned 
and yet occasions and objects, through a variety of appre
hensions about them, and the various manner in which they
are viewed, by reason of the partial attention of the mind,
may be extremely various. Besides, example, custom,
education, and association, may contribute to this, in ways
innumerable. But it is needless to enlarge here, since
what has been said by others, Mr. Hutchison in particular,
may abundantly show, that the differences which are to be
found among different persons and nations, concerning
moral good and evil, are not inconsistent with a general
moral sense, common to all mankind.
Nor, secondly, is the use of the words, good and evil,

right and wrong, when used in a moral sense, altogether
unfixed and arbitrary, according to the variety of notions,
opinions, and views, that occasion the forementioned va
riety of sentiment. For though the signification of words
is determined by particular use, yet that which governs in
the use of terms, is general or common use. And man
kind, in what they would signify by terms, are obliged to
aim at a consistent use : because it is easily found that the
end of language, which is to be a common medium of
manifesting ideas and sentiments, cannot be obtained any
other way than by a consistent use of words ; both that
men should be consistent with themselves, and one with
another, in the use of them. But men cannot call any
thing right or wrong, worthy or ill-deserving, consistently,
any other way than by calling things so, which truly de
serve praise or blame, i. e. things, wherein all things con
sidered there is most uniformity in connecting with them
praise or blame. There is no other way in which they can
use these terms consistently with themselves. Thus if
thieves or traitors may be angry with informers that bring
them to justice, and call their behaviour by odious names;
yet herein they are inconsistent with themselves ; be
cause, when they put themselves in the place of those who
have injured them, they approve the same things they con
demn. And therefore, such are capable of being con
vinced, that they apply these odious terms in an abusive
manner. So, a nation that prosecutes an ambitious de
sign of universal empire, by subduing other nations with
fire and sword, may affix terms, that signify the highest
degrees of virtue, to the conduct of such as show the most
engaged, stable, resolute spirit in this affair, and do most
of this bloody work. But yet they are capable of being
convinced, that they use these terms inconsistently, and
abuse language in it, and so having their mouths stopped.
And not only will men use such words inconsistently with
themselves, but also with one another, by using them any
otherwise than to signify true merit or ill deserving, as be
fore explained. For there is no way else wherein men
have any notion of good or ill desert, in which mankind in
general can agree. Mankind in general seem to suppose
some general standard, or foundation in nature, for an uni
versal consistence in the use of the terms whereby they
express moral good and evil ; which none can depart from
but through error and mistake. This is evidently sup
posed in all their disputes about right and wrong; and in
all endeavours used to prove that any thing is either good
or evil, in a moral sense.

THE
GREAT CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
OF
ORIGINAL SIN
DEFENDED ;
EVIDENCES OF ITS TRUTH PRODUCED,
AND
ARGUMENTS TO THE CONTRARY ANSWERED,
CONTAINING, IN PARTICULAR,
A REPLY TO THE OBJECTIONS OF DR. JOHN TAYLOR,
IN HIS BOOK, ENTITLED,
" THE SCRIPTORE-DOC TRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN PROPOSED TO FREE AND CANDID EXAMINATION, &C."
Matt ix. 12. They that be whole, need not a physician ; but they that are sick.
— Et haec non tantum ad peccatores referenda est ; quia in omnibus maledictionibus primi hominis,
omnes ejus generationes conveniunt. — R- Sal. Jarchi.
Propter concupiscentiam, innatam cordi humano, dicituf, In iniquitate genitus sum ; atque sensu
est, quod & nativitate implantatum cordi sit humano Jetzer harang, tegmentum malum. — Aben-Ezra,
— Ad mores natura recurrit
Damnatos, tixa et mutari nescia. —
— Dociles imitandis
Turpibus et pravis omnes sumus. Juv.

ADVERTISEMENT,

CONTAINING A

BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THIS BOOK AND ITS AUTHOR,
BY THE FIRST EDITOR.
The Reverend Author of the following piece, was removed by death before its publication. But, ere his decease,
the copy was finished and brought to the press ; and a number of sheets passed his own review. They who were ac
quainted with the author, or know his just character, and have any taste for the serious theme, will want nothing to be
said in recommendation of the ensuing tract, but only that Mr. Edwards wrote it.
Several valuable pieces on this subject have lately been published, upon the same side of the question. But he had
no notice of so much as the very first of them, till he had wholly concluded what he had in view : nor has it been
thought, that any thing already printed should supersede this work; being designed on a more extensive plan — com
prising a variety of arguments, and answers to many objections, that fell not in the way of the other worthy writers — and
the whole done with a care of familiar method and language, as well as clear reasoning, accommodated very much to
common capacities. It must tie a sensible pleasure to every friend of truth, that so masterly a hand undertook a reply
to Dr. Taylor ; notwithstanding the various answers already given him, both at home and abroad.
Since it has been thought unfit, that this posthumous book should go unattended with _ respectful memorial of the
author, it is hoped, the reader will candidly accept the following :*
As he lived cheerfully resigned in all things to the will of Heaven, so he died, or rather, as the Scripture emphati
cally expresses it, in relation to the saint in Christ Jesus, he fell asleep, without the least appearance of pain, and with
great calm of mind. Indeed, when he first perceived the symptoms upon him to be mortal, he is said to have been a
little perplexed for a while, about the meaning of this mysterious conduct of Providence, in calling him out from his
beloved privacy/to a public scene of action and influence ; and then so suddenly, just upon his entrance into it, trans
lating him from thence, in such a way, by mortality ! However, he quickly got believing and composing views of the
wisdom and goodness of God in this surprising event : and readily yielded to the sovereign disposal of Heaven, with
* As we have given a full Memoir in the first volume, those particulars which were contained in this brief account, and which are more fully and ac
curately narrated there, are omitted, in order to avoid needless repetitions.

144 ADVERTISEMENT.
the most placid submission. Amidst the joy of faith, he departed this world, to go and see Jesus, whom his soul
loved ; to be with him, to behold his glory, and rejoice in his kingdom.
In person, he was tall of stature, and of a slender make. There was something extremely delicate in his constitu
tion • which always obliged him to observe the exactest rules of temperance, and every method of cautious and pru
dent' living. By such means he was helped to go through incessant labours, and to bear up under much study, which,
Solomon observes, is a weariness to the flesh. Perhaps, never was a man more constantly retired from the world ;
giving himself to reading, and contemplation. And a wonder it was, that his feeble frame could subsist under such
fatigues, daily repeated and so long continued. Yet upon occasion of some remark upon it by a friend, which was
only a few months before his death, he told him, "He did not find but he was then as well able to bear the closest
study, as he was thirty years before ; and could go through, the exercises ofthe pulpit with as little weariness or diffi
culty." In his youth he appeared healthy, and with a good degree of vivacity ; but was never robust. In middle life,
he appeared very much emaciated (I had almost said, mortified) by severe studies, and intense applications of thought.
Hence his voice was a little languid, and too low for a large assembly ; though much relieved and advantaged by a
proper emphasis, just cadence, well-placed pauses, and great distinctness in pronunciation.
He had a piercing eye, the truest index of the mind. His aspect and mien had a mixture of severity and pleasantry.
He had a natural turn for gravity and sedateness ; ever contemplative ; and in conversation usually reserved, but always
observant of a genuine decorum in his deportment ; free from sullen, supercilious, and contemptuous airs, and without
any appearance of ostentation, levity, or vanity. As to imagination, he had enough of it for a great and good man : but
the gaieties of a luxuriant fancy, so captivating to many, were what he neither affected himself, nor was much delighted
with in others. He had a natural steadiness of temper, and fortitude of mind ; which being sanctified by the Spirit of
God, was ever of vast advantage to him, to carry him through difficult services, and support him under trying afflictions,
in the course of his life. Personal injuries he bore with a becoming meekness and patience, and a disposition to for
giveness. The humility, modesty, and serenity of his behaviour, much endeared him to his acquaintance ; and made
him appear amiable in the eyes of such as had the privilege of conversing with him. He was a true and faithful friend ;
and showed much of a disinterested benevolence to his neighbour. The several relations sustained by him, he adorned
with an exemplary conduct; and was solicitous to fill every station with its proper duty. He kept up an extensive
correspondence, with ministers and others, in various parts ; and his letters always contained some significant and
valuable communications. In his private walk, as a Christian, he appeared an example of truly rational, consistent,
uniform religion and virtue : a shining instance of the power and efficacy of that holy faith, to which he was so firmly
attached, and of which he was so strenuous a defender. He exhibited much of spirituality, and a heavenly bent of soul.
In him one saw the loveliest appearance, a rare assemblage of christian graces, united with the richest gifts, and
mutually subserving and recommending one another.
As a scholar, his intellectual furniture exceeded what is common, considering the disadvantages we labour under in
this remote corner ofthe world. He very early discovered a genius above the ordinary size; which gradually ripened
and expanded, by daily exertion and application. He was remarkable for the penetration and extent of his understand
ing, for his powers of criticism and accurate distinction, quickness of thought, solidity of judgment, and force of reason
ing; which made him an acute and strong disputant. By nature he was formed for a logician, and a metaphysician;
but by speculation, observation, and converse, greatly improved. He had a good insight into the whole circle of liberal
arts and sciences ; possessed a very valuable stock of classic learning, philosophy, mathematics, history, chronology, &c.
By the blessing of God on his indefatigable studiousness, to the last, he was constantly treasuring up useful knowledge,
both human and divine.
Thus he appears uncommonly accomplished for the arduous and momentous province to which he was finally called.
And had Heaven indulged us with the continuance of his precious life, we have reason to think, he would have graced
his new station, and been a signal blessing to the college, and therein extensively served his generation, according to the
will of God.
After all, it must be owned, divinity was his favourite study ; and the ministry, his most delightful empldyment.
Among the luminaries of the church, in these American regions, he was justly reputed a star of the first magnitude ;
thoroughly versed in all the branches of theology, didactic, polemic, casuistic, experimental, and practical. In point of
divine knowledge and skill, he had few equals, and perhaps no superior, at least in these parts. On the maturest ex
amination of the different schemes of principles, obtaining in the world, and on comparing them with the sacred Scrip
tures, the oracles of God and the great standard of truth, he was a Protestant and a Calvinist in judgment ; adhering to
the main articles of the reformed religion with an unshaken firmness, and with a fervent zeal, but tempered with charity
and candour, and governed by discretion. He seemed as little as most men under the bias of education, or the influ
ence of bigotry. As to practical and vital Christianity, no man appeared to have a better acquaintance with its nature
and importance ; or to understand true religion, and feel its power, more than he ; which made him an excellently fit
guide to inquiring souls, and qualified him to guard them against all false religion. His internal sense of the inter
course between God and souls, being brought by him to the severe test of reason and revelation, preserved him, both in
sentiment and conduct, from the least tincture of enthusiasm. The accomplished divine enters deep into his character.
As a preacher, he was judicious, solid, and instructive. Seldom was he known to bring controversy into the pulpit ;
or to handle any subject in the nicer modes and forms of scholastic dissertation. His sermons, in general, seemed to
vary exceedingly from his controversial compositions. In his preaching, usually, all was plain, familiar, sententious,
practical ; and very distant from any affectation of appearing the great man, or displaying his extraordinary abilities as
a scholar. But still he ever preserved the character of a skilful and thorough divine. The common themes of his
ministry were the most weighty and profitable ; and especially, the great truths of the gospel of Christ, in which he
himself lived by faith. His method in preaching was, first to apply to the understanding and judgment, labouring to
enlighten and convince them ; and then to persuade the will, engage the affections, and excite the active powers of the
soui. His language was with propriety and purity, but with a noble negligence ; nothing ornamented. Florid diction
was not the beauty he preferred. His talents were of a superior kind. He regarded thoughts, rather than words. Pre
cision of sentiment and clearness of expression are the principal characteristics of his pulpit style. Neither quick nor
slow of speech, there was a certain pathos in his utterance, and such skill of address, as seldom failed to draw the atten
tion, warm the hearts, and stimulate the consciences of the auditory. He studied to show himself approved unto God,
a workman that needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. And he was one who gave himself to
prayer, as well as to the ministry of the word. Agreeably it pleased God to put great honour upon him, by crowning
nis labours with surprising successes, in the conversion of sinners, and the edification of saints, to the advancement of
the kingdom and glory of God our Saviour Jesus Christ.
As a writer, Mr. Edwards distinguished himself in controversy, to which he was called on a variety of occasions.
Here the superiority of his genius eminently appeared. He knew to arrange his ideas in an exact method : and close
application of mind, .with the uncommon strength of his intellectual powers, enabled him in a manner to exhaust every
subject he took under consideration. He diligently employed the latter part of his life in defending Christianity, both
in its doctrinal and practical views, against the errors of the times. Besides his excellent writings in behalf of the power

ADVERTISEMENT. 145
of godliness, which some years ago happily prevailed in many parts of the British America, he made a noble stand
against enthusiasm and false religion, when it threatened to spread, by his incomparable treatise upon religious affec
tions. And more lately in opposition to Pelagian, Arminian, and other false principles, he published a very elaborate
Treatise upon the Liberty of the human Will. A volume, that has procured him the elogy of eminent divines
abroad. Several professors of divinity in the Dutch universities very lately sent him their thanks, for the assistance he
had given them in their inquiry into some controverted points ; having carried his own further than any author they had
ever seen. And now this volume of his, on the great christian doctrine of original sin, is presented to public view ;
which, though studiously adapted to lower capacities, yet carries in it the evident traces of his great genius, and seems
with superior force of argument to have entirely baffled the opponent.
His writings will perpetuate his memory, and make his name blossom in the dust. The blessing of Heaven attend
ing the perusal of them, will make them effectually conducive to the glory of God, and the good of souls ; which will
brighten the author's crown, and add to his joy, in the day of future retribution.

THE

AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

The following Discourse is intended, not merely as an answer to any particular book written against the doctrine of
Original Sin, but as a general defence of that great important doctrine. Nevertheless, I have in this defence taken
notice of the main things said against this doctine, by such of the more noted opposers of it as I have had opportunity
to read : particularly those two late writers, Dr. Turnbull and Dr. Taylor, of Norwich ; but especially the latter, in
what he has published in those two books of his, the first entitled, The Scripture-Doctrine of Original Sin proposed to
free and candid Examination ; the other, his Key to the Apostolic Writings, with a Paraphrase and Notes on the
Epistle to the Romans. I have closely attended to Dr. Taylor's Piece on Original Sin, in all its parts, and have en
deavoured that no one thing there said, of any consequence in this controversy, should pass unnoticed, or that any thing
which has the appearance of an argument, in opposition to this doctrine, should be left unanswered. I look on the
doctrine as of great importance ; which every body will doubtless own it is, if it be true. For, if the case be such
indeed, that all mankind are by nature in a state of total ruin, both with respect to the moral evil of which they are the
subjects, and the afflictive evil to which they are exposed, the one as the consequence and punishment of the other ;
then, doubtless, the great salvation by Christ stands in direct relation to this ruin, as the remedy to the disease ; and
the whole gospel, or doctrine of salvation, must suppose it; and all real belief, or true notion of that gospel, must be
built upon it. Therefore, as I think the doctrine is most certainly both true and important, I hope, my attempting a
vindication of it, will be candidly interpreted ; and that what I have done towards its defence, will be impartially con
sidered, by all that will give themselves the trouble to read the ensuing discourse : in which it is designed to examine
every thing material throughout the Doctor's whole book, and many things in that other book, containing his Key and
Exposition on Romans ; as also many things written in opposition to this doctrine by some other modern authors.
Moreover, my discourse being not only intended for an answer to Dr. Taylor, and other opposers of the doctrine of
original sin, but for a general defence of that doctrine ; producing the evidence of the truth of the doctrine, as well as
answering objections made against it; I hope this attempt of mine will not be thought needless, nor be altogether use
less, notwithstanding other publications on the subject.
I would also hope, that the extensiveness of the plan of the following treatise will excuse the length of it. And that
when it is considered, how much was absolutely requisite to the full executing of a design formed on such a plan ; how
much has been written against the doctrine of original sin, and with what plausibility ; how strong the prejudices of
many are in favour of what is said in opposition to this doctrine — and that it cannot be expected, any thing short of a
full consideration of almost every argument advanced by the main opposers, especially by this late and specious writer,
Dr. Taylor, will satisfy many readers — how much must unavoidably be said in order to a full handling of the arguments
in defence of the doctrine ; and how important the doctrine must be, if true ; I trust, the length of the following dis
course will not be thought to exceed what the case really required. However, this must be left to the judgment of the
intelligent and candid reader.
Stockbridge, May 26, 1757.
Note. — When the page is referred to in this manner, p. 40. p. 50. without mentioning the book, thereby is to be understood such a page in Dr. Taylor's
Scriptnre-Doctrine of Original Sin. S. intends the Supplement. When the word Key is used to signify the book referred to, thereby is to be under
stood Dr. Taylor's Key to the Apostolic Writings. This mark [§] with figures or a number annexed, signifies such a section or paragraph in his Key.
When after mentioning Preface to Par. on Epist. to Romans, there is subjoined p. 145. 47. or the like, thereby is intended page and paragraph, page
145. paragraph 47. The letter T. alone, is used to signify Dr. Taylor's name, and no other.

Vol. i.

THE

GREAT CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE

ORIGINAL SIN DEFENDED.

PART I.
WHEREIN ARE CONSIDERED SOME EVIDENCES OF ORIGINAL SIN FROM FACTS AND EVENTS, AS FOUNDED BY OBSERVA
TION AND EXPERIENCE, TOGETHER WITH REPRESENTATIONS AND TESTIMONIES OF HOLY SCRIPTURE, AND THE
CONFESSION AND ASSERTION OF OPPOSERS.

CHAP. I.
THE EVIDENCE OF ORIGINAL SIN FROM WHAT APPEARS IN
FACT OF THE SINFULNESS OF MANKIND.
Sect. I.
All mankind constantly, in all ages, without fail in any one
instance, run into that moral evil, which is in effect their
own utter and eternal perdition in a total privation of
GOD'S favour, and suffering of his vengeance and
wrath. By Original Sin, as the phrase has been most commonly
used by divines, is meant the innate sinful depravity of the
heart. But yet when the doctrine of original sin is spoken
of, it is vulgarly understood in that latitude, which in
cludes not only the depravity of nature,hut the imputation
of Adam's first sin ; or, in other words, the liableness or
exposedness of Adam's posterity, in the divine judgment,
to partake of the punishment of that sin. So far as I
know, most of those who have held one of these, have
maintained the other ; and most of those who have op
posed one, have opposed the other ; both are opposed by
the author chiefly attended to in the following discourse,
in his book against original sin : and it may perhaps ap
peal- in our future consideration of the subject, that they
are closely connected ; that the arguments which prove the
one establish the other, and that there are no more diffi
culties attending the allowing of one, than the other.
I shall, in the first place, consider this doctrine more
especially with regard to the corruption of nature ; and as
we treat of this, the other will naturally' come into consi
deration, in the prosecution of the discourse, as connected
with it. As all moral qualities, all principles either of
virtue or vice, lie in the disposition of the heart, I shall
consider whether we have any evidence, that the heart of
man is naturally of a corrupt and evil disposition. This
is strenuously denied by many late writers, who are
enemies to the doctrine of original sin ; and particularly
by Dr. Taylor.
The way we come by the idea of any such thing as dis
position or tendency, is by observing what is constant or
general in event ; especially under a great variety of circum
stances ; and above all, when the effect or event continues
the same through great and various opposition, much and
manifold force and means used to the contrary not prevail
ing to hinder the effect. I do not know, that such a pre
valence of effects is denied to be an evidence of prevailing
tendency in causes and agents ; or that it is expressly de-
» Moral Philos. p. 289, 290.

nied by the opposers of the doctrine of original sin, that if,
in the course of events, it universally or generally proves
that mankind are actually corrupt, this would be an evi
dence of a prior corrupt propensity in the world of man
kind ; whatever may be said by some, which, if taken with
its plain consequences, may seem to imply a denial of
this ; which may be considered afterwards. But by many
the fact is denied ; that is, it is denied, that corruption and
moral evil are commonly prevalent in the world : on the
contrary, it is insisted on, that good preponderates, and
that virtue has the ascendant.
To this purpose, Dr. Turnbull says* " With regard to
the prevalence of vice in the world, men are apt to let their
imagination run out upon all the robberies, piracies, mur
ders, perjuries, frauds, massacres, assassinations they have
either heard of, or read in history ; thence concluding all
mankind to be very wicked. As if a court of justice were
a proper place to make an estimate of the morals of man
kind, or an hospital of the healthfulness of a climate.
But ought they not to consider, that the number of honest
citizens and farmers far surpasses that of all sorts of crimi
nals in any state, and that the innocent and kind actions of
even criminals themselves surpass their crimes in numbers;
that it is the rarity of crimes, in comparison of innocent
or good actions, which engages our attention to them, and
makes them to be recorded in history, while honest, gene
rous domestic actions are overlooked, only because they
are so common ? as one great danger, or one month's sick
ness, shall become a frequently repeated story during a
long life of health and safety. — Let not the vices of man
kind be multiplied or magnified. Let us make a fair es
timate of human life, and set over against the shocking,
the astonishing instances of barbarity and wickedness that
have been perpetrated in any age, not only the exceeding
generous and brave actions with which history shines, but
the prevailing innocency, good-nature, industry, felicity,
and cheerfulness of the greater part of mankind at all
times ; and we shall not find reason to cry out, as objectors
against Providence do on this occasion, that all men are
vastly oorrupt, and that there is hardly any such thing as
virtue in the world. Upon a fair computation, the fact does
indeed come out, that very great villanies have been very
uncommon in all ages, and looked upon as monstrous ; so
general is the sense and esteem of virtue." — It seems to
be with a like view that Dr. Taylor says, " We must not
take the measure of our health and enjoyments from a
lazar-house, nor of our understanding from Bedlam, nor of
our morals from a gaol." (P. 77. S.)
With respect to the propriety and pertinence of such a
representation of things, and its force as to the consequence

Sect. I.

ALL MEN TEND TO SIN AND RUIN.

designed, I hope we shall be better able to judge, and in
some measure to determine, whether the natural disposition
of the hearts of mankind be corrupt or not, when the
things which follow have been considered. But for the
greater clearness, it may be proper here to premise one
consideration, that is of great importance in this con
troversy, and is very much overlooked by the opposers of
the doctrine of original sin in'their disputing against it.
That it is to be looked upon as the true tendency of the
innate disposition of man's heart, which appears to be its
tendency, when we consider things as they are in them
selves, or in their own nature, without the interposition of
divine grace. Thus, that state of man's nature, that dispo
sition of the mind, is to be looked upon as evil and perni
cious, which, as it is in itself, tends to extremely pernicious
consequences, and would certainly end therein, were it not
that the free mercy and kindness of God interposes to pre
vent that issue. It would be very strange if any should
argue, that there is no evil tendency in the case, because
the mere favour and compassion of the Most High may
step in and oppose the tendency, and prevent the sad ef
fect. Particularly, if there be any thing in the nature of
man, whereby he has an universal unfailing tendency to
that moral evil, which, according to the real nature and
true demerit of things, as they are in themselves, implies
his utter ruin, that must be looked upon as an evil ten
dency or propensity ; however divine grace may interpose,
to save him from deserved ruin, and to overrule things to
an issue contrary to that which they tend to of themselves.
Grace is sovereign, exercised according to the good plea
sure of God, bringing good out of evil. The effect of it
belongs not to the nature of things themselves, that other
wise have an ill tendency, any more than the remedy be
longs to the disease ; but is something altogether inde
pendent on it, introduced to oppose the natural tendency,
and reverse the course of things. But the event to which
things tend, according to their own demerit, and according
to divine justice, is the event to which they tend in their
own nature ; as Dr. T.'s own words fully imply, (Prof, to
Par. on Rom. p. 131.) " God alone (says he) can de
clare whether he will pardon or punish the ungodliness and
unrighteousness of mankind, which is in its own nature
punishable." Nothing is more precisely according to the
truth of things, than divine justice : it weighs things in an
even balance ; it views and estimates things no otherwise
than they are truly in their own nature. Therefore un
doubtedly that which implies a tendency to ruin, according
to the estimate of divine just ice, does indeed imply such a
tendency in its own nature.
And then it must be remembered, that it is a moral de
pravity we are speaking of ; and therefore when we are
considering whether such depravity do not appear by a
tendency to a bad effect or issue, it is a moral tendency to
such an issue, that is the thing to be taken into the account.
A moral tendency or influence is by desert. Then -may it
be said, man's nature or state is attended with a pernicious
or destructive tendency, in a moral sense, when it tends to
that which deserves misery and destruction. And therefore
it equally shows the moral depravity of the nature of man-
' He often speaks of death and affliction as coming on Adam's posterity
in consequence of his sin ; and in p. 20, 21. and many other places, he sup
poses, that these things come in consequence of his sin, not as a punishment
or a calamity, but as a benefit. But in p. 23. he supposes, those things
would be a great calamity and misery, if it were not for the resurrection ;
which resurrection he there, and in the following pages, and in many other
places, speaks of as being by Christ ; and often speaks of it as being by the
grace of God in Christ
P. 63, 64. Speaking of our being subjected to sorrow, labour, and death, in
consequence of Adam's sin, he represents these as evils that are reversed
and turned into advantages, and from which we are delivered through
grace in Christ And p. 60, 66, 67. he speaks of God thus turning death into
an advantage through grace in Christ, as what vindicates tbe justice of God
in bringing death by Adam.
P. 152, 156. One thing he alleges against this proposition of the Assembly
of Divines — That we are by nature bond-slaves to Satan —That God hath
been providing, from the beginning ofthe world to this day, various means
and dispensations, to preserve ana rescue mankind from tlte devil.
P. 168, 169, 170. In answer to that objection against his doctrine. That
we are in worse circumstances than Adam, he alleges the happy circum
stances we are under by the provision and means furnished through free
grace in Christ.
P. 228. In answering that argument against his doctrine — That there is a
law in our members, bringing us into captivity to the law of sin and death,
Rom. vii. — He allows, that the case of those who are under a law threaten
ing death for every sin, (which law he elsewhere says, shows us lite natural
and proper demerit of sin, and is perfectly consonant to everlasting truth
and righteousness.) mv3t be quite deplorable, if they have no relief from
the mercy of the lawgiver. h 2

147
kind in their present state, whether that nature be univer
sally attended with an effectual tendency to destructive
vengeance actually executed, or to their deserving misery and
ruin, or their just exposedness, to destruction, however that
fatal consequence may be prevented by grace or whatever
the actual event be. ,
One thing more is to be observed here, that the topic
mainly insisted on by the opposers of the doctrine of origi
nal sin, is the justice of God ; both in their objections
against the imputation of Adam's sin, and also against its
being so ordered, that men should come into the world
with a corrupt and ruined nature, without having merited
the displeasure of their Creator by any personal fault. But
the latter is not repugnant to God's justice, if men actually
are born into the world with a tendency to sin, and to
misery and ruin for their sin, which actually will be the
consequence, unless mere grace steps in and prevents it.
If this be allowed, the argument from justice is given up :
For it is to suppose, that their liableness to misery and ruin
comes in a way of justice ; otherwise there would be no
need of the interposition of divine grace to save them.
Justice alone would be sufficient security, if exercised,
without grace. It is all one in this dispute about what is
just and righteous, whether men are born in a miserable
state, by a tendency to ruin, which actually follows, and that
justly ; or whether they are born in such a state as tends
to a desert of ruin, which might justly follow, and would
actually follow, did not grace prevent. For the controversy
is not, what grace will do, but what justice might do.
I have been the more particular on this head, because it
enervates many of the reasonings and conclusions by which
Dr. T. makes out his scheme ; in which he argues
from that state which mankind are in by divine grace, yea,
which he himself supposes to be by divine grace ; and yet
not making any allowance for this, he from hence draws
conclusions against what others suppose of the deplorable
and ruined state mankind are in by the fall.* Some of his
arguments and conclusions to this effect, in order to be
made good, must depend on such a supposition as this ; —
that God's dispensations of grace, are rectifications or
amendments of his foregoing constitutions and proceed
ings, which were merely legal ; as though the dispensa
tions of grace, which succeed those of mere law, implied
an acknowledgment, that the preceding legal constitution
would be unjust, if left as it was, or at least very hard
dealing with mankind ; and that the other were of the na
ture of a satisfaction to his creatures, for former injuries, or
hard treatment. So that, put together the injury with the
satisfaction, the legal and injurious dispensation, taken with
the following good dispensation, which our author calls
grace, and the unfairness or improper severity of the former,
amended by the goodness of the latter, both together made
up one righteous dispensation!
The reader is desired to bear in mind what I have said
concerning the interposition of divine grace not altering the
nature of things, as they are in themselves. Accordingly,
when I speak of such and such an evil tendency of things,
belonging to the present nature and state of mankind, un
derstand me to mean their tendency as they are in them-
P. 90 — 93. S. In opposition to what is supposed of the miserable state
mankind are brought into by Adam's sin, he alleges, The noble designs of
love, manifested by advancing a new and happy dispensation, founded on
the obedience and righteousness of the Son of God; and that, although by
Adam we are subjected to death, yet in this dispensation a resurrection is
provided; and that Adam's posterity are under a mild dispensation of
Grace, SfC.
P. 112. S. He vindicates God's dealings with Adam, in placing him at first
under the rigour of law, transgress and die, (which, as he expresses it, was
putting his happiness on afoot extremely dangerous,) by saying, that as
God had before determined in his otm breast, so he immediately esta
blished his covenant upon a quite different bottom, namely, upon grace.
P. 122, 123. S. Against what R. R. says. That God forsook man when
he fell, and that mankind after Adam's sin were born without the divine
favour, _c. he alleges, among other things, ChrisVs coming to be the pro
pitiation for the sins of the whole world— And the riches of God's mercy
in giving the promise of a Redeemer to destroy tlie works of the devil —
That he caught his sinning falling creature in the arms of his grace.
In his note on Rom. v. 20. p. 297, 298. he says as follows : " The law I
conceive, is not a dispensation suitable to the infirmity of the human nature
in our present state ; or it doth not seem congruous to the goodness of God,
to afford us no other way of salvation but by a law, which, if we once
transgress, we are ruined for ever. For who then from the beginning of the
world could be saved? And therefore it 3eems to me, that the law was not
absolutely intended to be a rule for obtaining life, even to Adam in para
dise : Grace was the dispensation God intended mankind should be under;
and therefore Christ was fore-ordained before the foundation ofthe world." ¦
—There are various other passages in this author's writings of the like kind

148

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

selves, abstracted from any consideration of that remedy the
sovereign and infinite grace of God has provided.— Having
premised these things, I now assert, that mankind are all
naturally in such a state, as is attended, without fail, with
this consequence or issue ; that they universally run
THEMSELVES INTO THAT WHICH IS, IN EFFECT, THEIR OWN
utter eternal perdition, _s being finally accursed of
God, and the subjects of his remediless wrath through
sin. — From which I infer, that the natural state of the
mind of man is attended with a propensity of nature,
which is prevalent and effectual, to such an issue ; and that
therefore their nature is corrupt and depraved with a moral
depravity, that amounts to and implies their utter un
doing. Here I would first consider the truth of the proposition ;
and then would show the certainty of the consequences
which I infer from it. If both can be clearly and certainly
proved, then I trust, none will deny but that the doctrine
of original depravity is evident, and so the falseness of Dr.
T.'s scheme demonstrated ; the greatest part of whose
book, called the Scripture Doctrine of Original Sin, i}c. is
against the doctrine of innate depravity, in p. 107. S. he
speaks ofthe conveyance of a corrupt and sinful nature to
Adam's posterity as the gmnd point to be proved by the
maintainers ofthe doctrine of original sin.
In order to demonstrate what is asserted in the proposi
tion laid down, there is need only that these two things
should be made manifest : one is this fact, that all man
kind come into the world in such a state, as without fail
comes to this issue , namely, the universal commission of
sin ; or that every one who comes to act in the world as a
moral agent, is, in a greater or less degree, guilty of sin.
The other is, that all sin deserves and exposes to utter and
eternal destruction, unto God's wrath and curse ; and
would end in it, were it not for the interposition of divine
grace to prevent the effect. Both which can be abundantly
demonstrated to be agreeable to the word of God, and to
Dr. T's own doctrine.
That every one of mankind, at least such as are capable
of acting as moral agents, are guilty of sin, (not now taking-
it for granted that they come guilty into the world,) is most
clearly and abundantly evident from the Holy Scriptures :
1 Kings viii. 46. " If any man sin against thee; for there
is no man that sinneth not." Eccl. vii. 20. " There is not
a just man upon earth that doeth good, and sinneth not."
Job ix. 2, 3. " I know it is so of a truth, (i. e. as Bildad
had just before said, that God would not cast away a per
fect man, &c.) but how should man be just with God 7 If
he will contend with him, he cannot answer him one of a
thousand." To the like purpose, Psal. cxliii. 2. " Enter
not into judgment with thy servant ; for in thy sight shall
no man living be justified." So the words of the apostle,
(in which he has apparent reference to those of the
Psalmist,) Rom. iii. 19, 20. "That every moutli may be
stopped, and all the world become guilty before God.
Therefore hy the deeds of the law there shall no, flesh be
justified in his sight : for by the law is the knowledge of sin."
So, Gal. ii. 16. 1 John i. 7—10. " If we walk in the light,
the blood of Christ cleanseth us from all sin. If we say
that lie have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is
not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just
to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all un
righteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we
make him a liar, and his word is not in us." In this and
innumerable other places, confession and repentance of
sin are spoken of as duties proper for all; as also prayer
to God for pardon of sin ; also forgiveness of those that
injure us, from that motive, that we hope to be forgiven
of God. Universal guilt of sin might also be demonstrated
from the appointment, and the declared use and end ofthe
ancient sacrifices ; and also from the ransom, which every
one that was numbered in Israel, was directed to pay, to
make atonement for his soul. (Exod. xxx. 11 — 16.) All
are represented, not only as being sinful, but as having
great and manifold iniquity. (Job ix. 2, 3. James iii. 1, 2.)
There are many scriptures which both declare the uni
versal sinfulness of mankind, and also that all sin deserves
and justly exposes to everlasting destruction, under the
wrath and curse of God ; and so demonstrate both parts
ofthe proposition I have laid down. To which purpose

that passage in Gal. iii. 10. is exceeding full ". " For as
many as are of the works of the law are under the curse ;
for it is wiitten, Cursed is every one that continueth not in
all things which are written in the book of the law, to do
them ." How manifestly is it implied in the apostle's mean
ing here, that there is no man but what fails in some in
stances of doing all things that are wiitten in the book of
the law, and therefore as many as have their dependence
on their fulfilling the law, are under that curse which is
pronounced on them that fail of it ! And hence the apostle
infers in the next verse, " that no man is justified by the
law in the sight of God :" as he had said before in the
preceding chapter, ver. 16." By the works of the law shall
no flesh be justified." The apostle shows us he under
stands, that by this place which he cites from Deutero
nomy, " the Scripture hath concluded, or shut up, all under
sin.'' (Gal. iii. 22.) So that here we are plainly taught,
both that every one of mankind is a sinner, and that every
sinner is under the curse of God.
To the like purpose is Rom. iv. 14. also 2 Cor. iii. 6,
7, 9. where the law is called " the letter that kills, the
ministration of death, and the ministration of condemna
tion." The wrath, condemnation, and death, which is
threatened in the law to all its transgressors, is final per
dition, the second death, eternal ruin ; as is very plain,
and indeed is confessed. And this punishment which the
law threatens for every sin, is a just punishment ; being
what every sin truly deserves ; God's law being a righteous.
law, and the sentence of it a righteous sentence.
All these things are what Dr. Taylor himself confesses
and asserts. He says, that the law of God requires perfect
obedience. {Note on Rom. vii. 6. p. 308.) " God can
never require imperfect obedience, or by his holy law allow
us to be guilty of any one sin, how small soever. And if
the law, as a rule of duty, were in any respect abolished,
then we might in some respects transgress the law, and yet
not be guilty of sin. The moral law, or law of nature, is
tbe truth, everlasting, unchangeable; and therefore, as
such, can never be abrogated. On the contrary, our Lord
Jesus Christ has promulgated it anew under the gospel,
fuller and clearer than it was in the mosaical constitution,
or any where else : — having added to its precepts the sanc
tion of his own divine authority." And many things
which he says imply, that all mankind do in some degree
transgress trie law. In p. 228. speaking of what may be
gathered from Rom. vii. and viii. he says, " We are very
apt, in a world full of temptation, to be deceived, and
drawn into sin by bodily appetites, &e. And the case of
those who are under a law threatening death to every sin,
must be quite deplorable, if they have no relief from the
mercy of the lawgiver."
But this is very fully declared in what he says in his
note on Rom. v. 20. p. 297. His words are as follows :
" Indeed, as a rule of action prescribing our duty, it (the
law) always was and always must be a rule ordained for
obtaining life ; but not as a rule of justification, not as it
subjects to death for every transgression. For if it could
in its utmost rigour have given us life, then, as the apostle
argues, it would have been against the promises of God.
For if there had been a law, in the strict and rigorous sense
of law, which could have made us live, verily jus
tification should have been by the law. But he supposes,
no such law was ever given : and therefore there is need
and room enough for the promises of grace; or as he
argues, Gal. ii. 21. it would have frustrated, or rendered
useless,-the grace of God. For if justification came by the
law, then truly Christ is dead in vain, then he died to
accomplish what was, or might have been, effected
by law itself without his death. Certainly the law was
not brought in among the Jews to be a rule of justification,
or to recover them out of a state of death, and to procure
life by their sinless obedience to it : For in this, as well as
in another respect, it was weak ; not in itself, but through
the weakness of our flesh, Rom. viii. 3. The law, I con
ceive, is not a dispensation suitable to the infirmity of the
human nature in our present state ; or it cloth not seem
congruous to the goodness of God to afford us no other
way of salvation, but by law ; which if we once trans
gress, WE ARE RUINED FOR EVER. FOR WHO THEN,
FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD, COULD BE SAVED?"

Sect. I.

ALL MEN TEND TO SIN AND RUIN.

149

How clear and express are these things, that no one of
mankind, from the beginning of the world, can ever be
justified by law, because every one transgresses it 1*
And here also we see, Dr. T. declares, that by the law"
men are sentenced to everlasting ruin for one transgression.
To the like purpose he often expresses himself. So p. 207.
" The law requireth the most extensive obedience, dis
covering sin in all its branches.— It gives sin a deadly
force, subjecting every transgression to the penalty of
death; and yet supplieth neither help nor hope to
the sinner, but leaving him under the power of sin and
sentence of death." In p. 213. he speaks of the law as
extending to lust and irregular desires, and to every branch
und principle of sin ; and even to its latent principles, and
minutest branches ; again (Note on Rom. vii. 6. p.
308.) to every sin, how small soever. And when he speaks
of the law subjecting every transgression to the penalty of
death, he means eternal fieath, as he from time to time ex
plains the matter. In p. 212. he speaks ofthe law in the
condemning power of it, as binding us in everlasting chains.
In p. 120. S. he says, that death which is the wages of sin,
is the second death ; and this, p. 78. he explains of final
perdition. In his Key, p. 107. § 296. he says, "The curse
of the law subjected men for every transgression to eternal
death." So in Note on Rom. v. 20. p. 291. " The law of
Moses subjected those who were under it to death, mean
ing by death, eternal death." These are his words.
He also supposes, that this sentence of the law, thus
subjecting men for every, even the least, sin, and every
minutest branch and latent principle of sin, to so dreadful a
punishment, is just and rrghteous, agreeable to truth and
the nature of things, or to the natural and proper demerits
of sin. In this he is very full. Thus in p. 186. P. " It
was sin (says he) which subjected us to death by the law,
justly threatening, sin with death. Which law was given
us, that sin might appear ; might be set forth in its
proper colours ; when we saw it subjected us to death
by a law perfectly holy, just, and good; that sin by
the commandment, by the law, might be represented what
it really is, an exceeding great and deadly evil." So in
note on Rom. v. 20. p. 299.. " The law or ministration
of death, as it subjects to death for every transgression, is
still of use to show the natural and proper demerit
of sin." Ibid. p. 292. " The language of the law, dying
thou shalt die, is to be understood of the demerit of the
transgression, that which it deserves." Ibid. p. 298. " The
law was added, saith Mr. Locke on the place, because the
Israelites, the posterity of Abraham, were transgressors as
well as other men, to show them their sins, and the punish
ment and death, which in strict justice they incurred by
them. And this appears to be a true comment on Rom.
vii. 13. — Sin, by virtue of the law, subjected you to death
for this end, that sin, working death in us, by that which
is holy, just, and good, perfectly consonant to ever
lasting truth and righteousness  Consequently
every sin is in strict justice deserving of wrath and
punishment ; and the law in its rigour was given to the
Jews, to set borne this awful truth upon their consciences,
to show them the evil and pernicious nature of sin ; and
that being conscious they had broke the law of God, this
might convince them- of the great need they had of the
favour of the lawgiver, and oblige them, by faith in his
goodness, to fly to his mercy, for pardon and salvation."
If the law be holy, just, and good, a constitution per
fectly agreeable to God's holiness, justice, and goodness ;
then he might have put it exactly in execution, agreeably
to all these his perfections. Our author himself says, p.
133. S. " How that constitution, which establishes a law,
the making of which is inconsistent with the justice and
goodness of God, and the executing of it inconsistent with
his holiness, can be a righteous constitution, I confess, is
quite beyond my comprehension."
Now the reader is left to judge, whether it be not most
plainly and fully agreeable to Dr. T.'s own doctrine, that
there never was any one person from the beginning of the
world, who came to act in the world as a moral agent, and
that it is not to be hoped there ever will be any, but what
* I am sensible, these things are quite inconsistent with what he says else
where, of sufficient power in all mankind constantly to do the whole duty
which God requires of them without a necessity of breaking God's law in

is a sinner or transgressor of the law of God ; and that
therefore this proves to be the issue and event of things,
with respect to all mankind in all ages, that, by the natural
and proper demerit of their own sinfulness, and in the
judgment ofthe law of God, which is perfectly consonant
to truth, and exhibits things in their true colours, they are
the proper subjects of the curse of God, eternal death, and
everlasting ruin ; which must be the actual consequence,
unless the grace or favour of the lawgiver interpose, and
mercy prevail for their pardon and salvation. The reader
has seen also how agreeable this is to the doctrine of the
Holy Scripture. If so, and if the interposition of divine
grace alters not the nature of things as they are in them
selves, and that it does not in the least affect the state of the
controversy we are upon — concerning the true nature and
tendency of the state in which mankind come into the
world — whether grace prevents the fatal effect or no; I
trust, none will deny, that the proposition laid down, is
fully proved, as agreeable to the word of God, and Dr. T.'s
own words ; viz. That mankind are all naturally in such a
state, as is attended, without fail, with this consequence or
issue, that they universally are the subjects of that guilt and
sinfulness, which is, in effect, their utter and eternal ruin,
being cast wholly out of the favour of God, and Subjected
to his everlasting wrath and curse.

SECT. II.
It follows from the proposition proved, in the foregoing
section, that all mankind are under the influence of a
prevailing effectual tendency in their nature, to thai sin
and wickedness, which implies their utter and eternal ruin.
The proposition laid down being proved, the conseouence
of it remains to be made out, viz. That the mind of man
has a natural tendency or propensity to that event, which
has been shown universally and infallibly to take place ;
and that this is a corrupt or depraved propensity. — I shall
here consider the former part of this consequence, namely,
Whether such an universal, constant, infallible event is
truly a proof of any tendency or propensity to that event ;
leaving the evil and corrupt nature of such a propensity to
be considered afterwards.
If any should say, they do not think that its being a
thing universal and infallible in event, that mankind com
mit some sin, is a proof of a prevailing tendency to sin ;
because they do good, and perhaps more good than evil :
Let them remember, that tne question at present is not,
How much sin there is a tendency to ; but whether there be
a prevailing propensity to that issue, which it is allowed all
men do actually come to — that all fail of keeping the law
perfectly — whether there be not a tendency to such imper
fection of obedience, as always without fail comes to pass ;
to that degree of sinfulness, at least, which all fall into ;
and so to that utter ruin, which that sinfulness implies and
infers. Whether an effectual propensity to this be worth
the name of depravity, because the good, that may be sup»
posed to balance it, shall be considered by and by. If all
mankind in all nations and ages, were at least one day in
their lives deprived of the use of their reason, and raving
mad ; or that all, even every individual person, once cut
their own throats, or put out their own eyes ; it might be
an evidence of some tendency in the nature or natural
state of mankind to such an event; though they might ex
ercise reason many more days than they were distracted,
and were kind to and tender of themselves oftener than they
mortally and cruelly wounded themselves.
To determine whether the unfailing constancy of the
above-named event be an evidence of tendency, iet it be
considered, What can be meant by tendency, but a pre
vailing liableness or exposedness to such or such an event?
Wherein consists the notion of any such thing, but some
stated prevalence or preponderation in the nature or state
of causes or occasions, that is followed by, and so proves
to be effectual to, a stated prevalence or commonness of
any particular kind of effect ? Or something in the per-
any degree, (p. 63—68. S.) But, I hope, the reader wilt not think me ac
countable for his inconsistences.

150

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

manent state of things, concerned in bringing a certain
sort of event to pass, which is a foundation for the con
stancy, or strongly prevailing probability, of such an event !
If we mean this Dy tendency, (and I know not what else
can be meant by it, but- this, or something like,) then it is
manifest, that where we see a stated prevalence of any
effect there is a tendency to that effect m the nature and
state of its causes. A common and steady effect shows,
that there is somewhere a preponderation, a prevailing ex
posedness or liableness in the state of things, to what
comes so steadily to pass. The natural dictate of reason
shows, that where there is an effect, there is a cause, and
a cause sufficient for the effect ; because, if it were not
sufficient, it would not be effectual ; and that therefore,
where there is a stated prevalence of the effect, there is a
stated prevalence in the cause. A steady effect argues a
steady cause. We obtain a notion of tendency, no other
way than by observation : and we can observe nothing
but events : and it is the commonness or constancy of
events, that gives us a notion of tendency in all cases.
Thus we judge of tendencies in the natural world. Thus
we judge of the tendencies or propensities of nature in
minerals, vegetables, animals, rational and irrational crea
tures. A notion of a stated tendency, or fixed propensity,
is not obtained by observing only a single event. A stated
preponderation in the cause or occasion, is argued only by
a stated prevalence of the effect. If a die be once thrown,
and it falls on a particular side, we do not argue from
hence, that that side is the heaviest ; but if it be thrown
without skill or care, many thousands or millions of times,
and it constantly falls on the same side, we have not the
least doubt in our minds, but that there is something of
propensity in the case, by superior weight of that side, or
in some other respect. How ridiculous would he make
himself, who should earnestly dispute against any tendency
in the state of things to cold in the winter, or heat in the
summer ; or should stand to it, that although it often
happened that water quenched fire, yet there was no ten
dency in it to such an effect !
In the case we are upon, human nature, as existing in
such an immense diversity of persons and circumstances,
and never failing in any one instance of coming to that
issue— that sinfulness, which implies extreme misery and
eternal ruin — is as the die often cast. For it alters not the
case in the least, as to the evidence of tendency, whether
the subject of the constant event be an individual, or a
nature and kind. Thus, if there be a succession of trees
of the same sort, proceeding one from another, from the
beginning of the world, growing in all countries, soils, and
climates, all bearing ill fruit ; it as much proves the nature
and tendency of the kind, as if it were only one individual
tree, that had remained from the beginning of the world,
often transplanted into different soils, and had continued
to bear only bad fruit. So, if there were a particular
family, which, from generation to generation, and through
every remove to innumerable different countries, and places
of abode, all died of a consumption, or all run distracted,
or all murdered themselves, it would be as much an evi
dence of the tendency of something in the nature or con
stitution of that race, as it would be of the tendency of
something in the nature or state of an individual, if some
one person had lived all that time, and some remarkable
event had often appeared in him, which he had been the
agent or subject of from year to year, and from age to
age, continually and without fail.*
Thus a propensity, attending the present nature or na
tural state of mankind, eternally to ruin themselves by
sin, may certainly be inferred from apparent and acknow
ledged fact. — And I would now observe further, that not
only does this follow from facts acknowledged by Dr. T.
but the things he asserts, and the expressions which he uses,
plainly imply that all mankind have such a propensity ;
yea, one ofthe highest kind, a propensity that is invincible,
* Here may be observed the weakness of that objection, made against
the validity of the argument for a fixed propensity to sin, from the con
stancy and universality of the event, that Adam sinned in one instance,
without a fixed propensity Without doubt a single event is an evidence,
that there was some cause or occasion of that event But the thing we are
speaking of, is a fixed cause : propensity is a stated continued thing. We
i ustly agree, that a stated effect must have a stated cause, and truly ob
serve, that we obtain the notion of tendency, or stated preponderation in
causes, no other way than by observing a staled prevalence of a particular

or a tendency which really amounts to a fixed, constant,
unfailing necessittj. There is a plain confession of a pro
pensity or proneness to sin, p. 143.—" Man, who drinketh
in iniquity like water; who-is attended with*so many
sensual appetites, and so apt to indulge them." — And
again, p. 228. " We are very apt, in a world full of
temptation, to be deceived, and drawn into sin by bodily
appetites."— If we are very apt or prone to be drawn into
sin by bodily appetites, and sinfully to indulge them, and
very apt or. prone to yield to temptation to sin, then we
are prone to sin ; for to yield to temptation to sin is sinful.
—In the same page he shows, that on this account, and
its consequences, the case of those who are under a law,
threatening death for every' sin, must be quite deplorable,
if they have no relief from the mercy of the lawgiver.
Which implies, that their case is hopeless, as to an escape
from death, the punishment of sin, by any other means
than God's mercy. And that implies such an aptness to
yield to temptation, as renders it hopeless that any of man
kind should wholly avoid it. But he speaks of it else
where, over and over, as truly impossible, or What cannot
be; as in the words before cited in the last section, from
his note on Rom. v. 20. where he repeatedly speaks ofthe
law, which subjects us to death for every transgression, as
what cannot give life ; and states, that if God offered
us no other way of salvation, no man from the beginning of
the world could be saved. In the same place he cites with
approbation Mr. Locke's words, in which, speaking of the
Israelites, he says, "All endeavours after righteousness
was lost labour, since any one slip forfeited life, and it
was impossible for them to expect ought but death."
Our author speaks of it as impossible for the law requiring
sinless obedience to give life, not that the law was weak
in itself, but through the weakness of our flesh. Therefore
he says, he conceives the law not to be a dispensation suit
able to the infirmity of the human nature in its present
state. These things amount to a full confession, that the
proneness in men to sin, and to a demerit of and just ex
posedness to eternal ruin, is universally invincible ; or,
which is the same thing, amounts to invincible necessity ;
which surely is the highest kind of tendency, or propensity :
and that not the less, for his laying this propensity to our
infirmity or weakness, which may seem to intimate some
defect, rather than any thing positive : and it is agreeable
to the sentiments of the best divines, that all sin originally
comes from a defective or privative cause. But sin
does not cease to be sin, justly exposing to eternal ruin,
(as implied in Dr. T.'s own words,) for arising from infir
mity or defect ; nor does an invincible propensity to sin
cease to be a propensity to such demerit of eternal ruin,
because the proneness arises from such a cause.
It is manifest, that this tendency, which has been proved,
does not consist in any particular external circumstances
that persons are in, peculiarly influencing their minds ; hut
is inherent, and is seated in that nature which is common
to all mankind, which they carry with them wherever they
go, and still remains the same, however circumstances may
differ. For it is implied in what has been proved, and
shown to be confessed, that the same event comes to pass
in all circumstances. In God's sight no man living can be
justified ; but all are sinners, and exposed to condemnation.
This is true of persons of all constitutions, capacities,
conditions, manners, opinions, and educations ; in- all
countries, climates, nations, and ages ; and through all the
mighty changes and revolutions, which have come to pass
in the habitable world.
We have the same evidence, that the propensity in this
case lies in the nature of the subject— and does not arise
from any particular circumstances — as we have in any
case whatsoever ; which is only by the effects appearing to
be the same in all changes of time and place, and under
all varieties of circumstances. It is in this way only we
judge, that any propensities, which we observe in man
kind of effect. But who ever argues a fixed propensity from a single event ?
And is it not strange arguing, that because an event which once comes to
pass, does not prove any stated tendency, therefore the unfailing constancy
of an event is an evidence of no such thing ? But because Dr. T. makes

so much of this objection from Adam sinning without a propensity, I shall
hereafter consider it more particularly, in the beginning of the 9th section
of this chapter ; where will also be considered what is objected from the

fall of the angels.

Sect. II.

UNIVERSAL SIN PROVES A SINFUL PROPENSITY.

151

kind, are seated in their nature, in all other cases. It is
thus we judge of the mutual propensity betwixt the sexes,
or of the dispositions which are exercised in any of the
natural passions or appetites, that they truly belong to the
nature of man; because they are observed in mankind in
general, through all countries, nations, and ages, and in all
conditions. If any should say, Though it be evident that there is a
tendency in the state of things to this general event— that
all mankind should fail of perfect obedience, and should
sin, and incur a demerit of eternal ruin ; and also that this
tendency does not lie in any distinguishing circumstances
of any particular people, person, or age — yet it may not lie
in mans nature, but in the general constitution and frame
of this world. Though the nature of man may be good,
without any evil' propensity inherent in it; yet the nature
and universal state of this world may be full of so many
and strong temptations, and of such powerful influence on
such a creature as man, dwelling in so infirm a body, &c.
that the result ofthe whole may be a strong and infallible
tendency in such a state of things, to the sin and eternal
ruin of every one of mankind.
To this I would reply, that such an evasion will not at
all avail to the purpose of those whom I oppose in this
controversy. It alters not the case as to this question,
Whether man, in his present state, is depraved and ruined
by propensities to sin. If any creature be of such a na
ture that it proves evil in its proper place, or in the situa
tion which God has assigned it in the universe, it is of an
evil nature. That part of the system is not good, which is
not good in its place in the system ; and those inherent
qualities of that part of the system, which are not good,
but corrupt, in that place, are justly looked upon as evil
inherent qualities. That propensity is truly esteemed to
belong to the nature of any being, or to be inherent in it,
that is the necessary consequence of its nature, considered
together with its proper situation in the universal system
of existence, whether that propensity be good or bad. It
is the nature of a stone to be heavy ; but yet, if it were
placed, as it might be, at a distance from this world, it
would have no such quality. But being a stone, is of
such a nature, that it will have this quality or tendency, in
its proper place, in this world, where God has made it, it
is properly looked upon as a propensity belonging to its
nature. And if it be a good propensity here, in its proper
place, then it is a good quality of its nature ; but if it be
contrariwise, it is an evil natural quality. So, if mankind
are of such a nature, that they have an universal effectual
tendency to sin and ruin in this world, where God has
made and placed them, this is to be looked upon as a
pernicious tendency belonging to their nature. There is,
perhaps, scarce any such thing, in beings not independent
and self-existent, as any power or tendency, but what has
some dependence on other beings, with which thev stand
connected in the universal system of existence. Propen
sities are no propensities, any (Otherwise, than as taken with
their objects. Thus it is with the tendencies observed in
natural bodies, such as gravity, magnetism, electricity, &c.
And thus it is with the propensities observed in the various
kinds of animals ; and thus it is with most of the propen
sities in created spirits.
It may further be observed, that it is exactly the same
thing, as to the controversy concerning an agreeableness
with God's moral perfections of such a disposal of things —
that man should come into the world in a depraved and
ruined state, by a propensity to sin and ruin — whether
God has so ordered it, that this propensity should lie in
his nature considered alone, or with relation to its situa
tion in the universe, and its connexion with other parts of
the system to which the Creator has united it ; which is as
much of God's ordering, as man's nature itself, most sim
ply considered.
Dr. T. (p. 188, 189.) speaking of the attempt of some
to solve the difficulty of God being the author of our na
ture, and yet that our nature is polluted, by supposing
that God makes the soul pure, but unites it to a polluted
body, (or a body so made, as tends to pollute the soul,)
he cries out of it as weak and insufficient, and too gross to
be admitted : For, says he, who infused the soul into the
body? And if it is polluted by being infused into the body,

who is the author and cause of its pollution? And who
created the body? fyc. — But is not the case just the same,
as to those who suppose that God made the soul pure,
and places it in a polluted world, or a world tending, by
its natural state in which it is made, to pollute the soul, or
to have such an influence upon it, that it shall without
fail be polluted with sin, and eternally ruined ? Here
may not I also cry out, on as good grounds as Dr. T. —
Who placed the soul here in this world ? And if the world
be polluted, or so constituted as naturally and infallibly to
pollute the soul with sin, who is the cause of this pollu
tion 7 And, who created the world 7
Though in the place now cited, Dr. T. so insists upon
it, that God must be answerable for the pollution of the
soul, if he has infused or put the soul into a body that
tends to pollute it ; yet this is the very thing which he
himself supposes to be fact, with respect to the soul being
created by God, in such a body, and in such a world ;
where he says, " We are apt, in a world full of temptation,
to be drawn into sin by bodily appetites." And if so, ac
cording to his way of reasoning, God must be the author
and cause of this aptness to be drawn into sin. Again, p.
143. we have these words, " Who drinketh in iniquity
like water ? Who is attended with so many sensual appe
tites, and so apt to indulge them?" In these words our
author in effect says the individual things that he ex
claims against as so gross, viz. The tendency of the body,
as God has made it, to pollute the soul, which he has in
fused into it. These sensual appetites, which incline the
soul, or make it apt, to a sinful indulgence, are either from
the body which God hath made, or otherwise a prone
ness to sinful indulgence is immediately and originally
seated in the soul itself, which will not mend the matter.
I would lastly observe, that our author insists upon it,
p. 42. S. That this lower world, in its present state, " Is
as it was, when, upon a review, God pronounced it, and
all its furniture, very good.— And that the present form
and furniture of the earth is full of God's riches, mercy,
and goodness, and of the most evident tokens of his
love and bounty to the inhabitants." If so, there can
be no room for evading the evidences from fact, of the
universal infallible tendency of man's nature to sin and
eternal perdition ; since, on the supposition, the tendency
to this issue does not lie in the general constitution
and frame of this world, which God hath made to be the
habitation of mankind.

SECT. III.
That propensity, which has been proved to be in the nature
of all mankind, must be a very evil, depraved, and per
nicious propensity; making it manifest, that the soul
of man, as it is by nature, is in a corrupt, fallen, and
ruined state; which is the other part of the conse
quence, drawn from the proposition laid down in the
first section.
The question to be considered, in order to determine
whether man's nature be depraved and ruined, is not,
Whether he is inclined to perform as many good deeds as
bad ones ? But, to which of these two he preponderates,
in the frame of his heart, and the state of his nature, a
state of innocence and righteousness, and favour with God ;
or a state of sin, guiltiness, and abhorrence in the sight of
God? — Persevering sinless righteousness, or else the guilt
of sin, is the alternative, on the decision of which de
pends — according to the nature and truth of things, as
they are in themselves, and according to the rule of right,
and of perfect justice — man being approved and accepted
of his Maker, and eternally blessed as good ; or his being
rejected, and cursed as bad. And therefore the deter
mination of the tendency of man's heart and nature, with
respect to these terms, is that which is to be looked at, in
order to determine whether his nature is good or evil, pure
or corrupt, sound or ruined. If such be man's nature,
and the state of his heart, that he.has an infallibly effec
tual propensity to the latter of those terms ; then it is
wholly impertinent to talk of the innocent and kind
actions, even of criminals themselves, surpassing their

152

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Cii. I.

crimes in numbers, and of the prevailing innocence, good
nature, industry, felicity, and cheerfulness of the greater
part of mankind. Let never so many thousands or mil
lions of acts of honesty, good nature, &c. be supposed ;
yet, by the supposition, there is an unfailing propensity to
such moral evil, as in its dreadful consequences infinitely
outweighs all effects or consequences of any supposed
good. Surely that tendency, which, in effect, is an infalli
ble tendency to eternal destruction, is an infinitely dread
ful and pernicious tendency : and that nature and frame
of mind, which implies such a tendency, must be an infi
nitely dreadful and pernicious frame of mind. It would
be much more absurd to suppose, that such a state of
nature is not bad, under a notion of men doing more
honest and kind things than evil ones ; than to say, the
state of that ship is good, for crossing the Atlantic ocean,
though such as cannot hold together through the voyage,
but will infallibly founder and sink, under a notion that it
may probably go great part of the way before it sinks, or
that it will proceed and sail above water more hours than
it will be in sinking : or, to pronounce that road a good
road to go to such a place, the greater part of which is
plain and safe, though some parts of it are dangerous, and
certainly fatal, to them that travel in it ; or to call that a
good propensity, which is an inflexible inclination to travel
in such a way.
A propensity to that sin which brings God's eternal
wrath and curse (which has been proved to belong to the
nature of man) is evil, not only as it is calamitous and sor
rowful, ending in great natural evil ; but as it is odious
and detestable; for by the supposition, it tends to that
moral evil, by which the subject becomes odious in the
sight of God, and liable, as such, to be condemned, and
utterly rejected, and cursed by him. This also makes it
evident, that the state which it has been proved mankind
are in, is a corrupt state in a moral sense, that it is incon
sistent with the fulfilment of the law of God, which is the
rule of moral rectitude and goodness. That tendency,
which is opposite to what the moral law requires, and
prone to that which the moral law utterly forbids, and
eternally condemns, is doubtless a corrupt tendency, in a
moral sense.
So that this depravity is both odious, and also pernicious,
fatal and destructive, in the highest sense ; as inevitably
tending to that which implies man's eternal ruin. It shows,
that man, as he is by nature, is in a deplorable state, in
the highest sense. And this proves that men do not come-
into the world perfectly innocent in the sight of God, and
without any just exposedness to his displeasure. For the
being by nature in a lost and ruined state, in the highest
sense, is not consistent with being by nature in a state of
favour with God.
But if any should still insist on a notion of men's good
deeds exceeding their bad ones, and that, seeing the good
more than countervails the evil, they cannot be properly
denominated evil ; all persons and things being most pro
perly denominated from that which prevails, and has the
ascendant in them ; I would say further, That if there is
in man's nature a tendency to guilt and ill desert, in a
vast overbalance to virtue and merit ; or a propensity to
sin, the demerit of which is so great, that the value and
merit of all the virtuous acts that ever he performs, are as
nothing to it ; then truly the nature of man may be said
to be corrupt and evil.
That this is the true case, may be demonstrated by what
is evident of the infinite heinousness of sin against God,
from the nature of things. The heinousness of this must
rise in some proportion to the obligation we are under to
regard the Divine Being ; and that must be in some pro
portion to his worthiness of regard ; which doubtless is
infinitely beyond the worthiness of any of our fellow-crea
tures. But the merit of our respect or obedience to God is
not infinite. The merit of respect to any being does not
increase, but is rather diminished, in proportion to the
obligations we are under in strict justice to pay him that
respect. There is no great merit in paying a debt we owe,
and by the highest possible obligations in strict justice are
obliged to pay ; but there is great demerit in refusing to
pay it. That on such accounts as these, there is an infinite
demerit in all sin against God, which must therefore im

mensely outweigh all the merit which can be supposed to
be in our virtue, I think, is capable of full demonstration ;
and that the futility of the objections which some- have
made against the argument, might most plainly be de
monstrated. But I shall omit a particular consideration
of the evidence of this matter from the nature of things, as
I study brevity, and lest any should cry out, metaphysics:'
as ths- manner of some is, when any argument is handled
against a tenet they are fond of, with a close and exact
consideration of the nature of things. And this is not so
necessary in the present case, inasmuch as the point
asserted — that he who commits any one sin,-has guilt and
ill desert so great, that the value and merit of all the good
which it is possible he should do in his whole life, is as
nothing to it — is not only evident by metaphysics, but is
plainly demonstrated by what has been shown to be fact,
with respect to God's own constitutions and dispensations
towards mankind. Thus, whatever acts of virtue and
obedience a man perforins, yet if he trespasses in one point,
is guilty of any the least sin, he — according to the law of
God, and so according to the exact truth of things, and
the proper demerit of sin — is exposed to be wholly cast
out of favour with God, and subjected to his curse, to be
utterly and eternally destroyed. This has been proved;
and shown to be the doctrine which Dr. T. abundantly
teaches. But how can it be agreeable to the nature of things, and
exactly consonant to everlasting truth and righteousness,
thus to deal with a creature for the least sinful act, though
he should perform ever so many thousands of honest and
virtuous acts, to countervail the evil of that sin ? Or how
can it be agreeable to the exact truth and real demerit of
things, thus wholly to cast off the deficient creature, with
out any regard to the merit of all his good deeds, unless
that be in truth the case, that the value and merit of all
those good actions, bear no proportion to the heinousness
of the least sin ? If it were not so, one would think, that
however the offending person might have some proper
punishment, yet seeing there is so much virtue to lay in
the balance against the guilt, it would be agreeable to the
nature of things, that he should find some favour, and not
be altogether rejected, and made the subject of perfect and
eternal destruction ; and thus no account at all be made
of all his virtue, so much as to procure him the least re
lief or hope. How can such a constitution represent sin
in its proper colours, and according to its true nature and
desert, (as Dr. T. says it does,) unless this be its true
nature, that it is so bad, that even in the least instance it
perfectly swallows up all the value of the sinner's supposed
good deeds, let them be ever so many. So that this matter
is not left to our metaphysics, or philosophy ; the great
lawgiver, and infallible judge of the universe, has clearly
decided it, in the revelation he has made of what is agree
able to exact truth, justice, and the nature of things, in his
revealed law, or rule of righteousness.
He that in any respect or degree is a transgressor of
God's law, is a wicked man, yea, whollv wicked in the
eye of the law ; all his goodness being esteemed nothing,
having no account made of it, when taken together with
his wickedness. And therefore, without any regard to his
righteousness, he is, by the sentence of the law, and so by
the voice of truth and justice, to be treated as worthy to
be rejected, abhorred, and cursed for ever; and must be
so, unless grace interpose, to cover his transgression. But
men are really, in themselves, what they are in the eye of
the law, and by the voice of strict equity and justice;
however they may be looked upon, and treated by infinite
and unmerited mercy.
So that, on the whole, it appears, all mankind have an
infallibly effectual propensity to that moral evil, which
infinitely outweighs the value of all the good that can be
in them ; and have such a disposition of heart, that the
certain consequence of it is, their being, in the eye of per
fect truth and righteousness, wicked men. And I leave
all to judge, whether such a disposition be not in the eye
of truth a depraved disposition 7
Agreeable to these things, the Scripture represents all
mankind, not only as having guilt, but immense guilt,
which they can have no merit or worthiness to countervail.
Such is the representation we have in Matt, xviii. 21, to

Sect. IV.

ALL MEN SIN IMMEDIATELY, &c,

the end. There, on Peter's inquiring, How often his brother
should trespass against him, and he for give him, whether
until seven times? Christ replies, I say not unto thee,
until seven times, but until seventy times seven ; apparently
meaning, that he should esteem no number of offences too
many, and no degree of injury it is possible our neighbour
should be guilty of towards us too great, to be forgiven.
For which this reason is given in the parable following,
that if ever we obtain forgiveness and favour with God, he
must pardon that guilt and injury towards his majesty,
which is immensely greater than the greatest injuries that
ever men are guilty of one towards another ; yea, than the
sum of all their injuries put together, let them be ever so
many, and ever so great ; so that the latter would be but
as an hundred pence to ten thousand talents, which im
mense debt we owe to God, and have nothing to pay ;
which implies, that we have no merit to countervail any
part of our guilt. And this must be, because if all that
may be called virtue in us, be compared with our ill desert,
it is in the sight of God as nothing to it. The parable is
not to represent Peter's case in particular, but that of all
who then were, or ever should be, Christ's disciples ; as
appears by the conclusion ofthe discourse, (ver. 3.5.) " So
likewise shall my heavenly Father do, if ye, from your
hearts, forgive not every one his brother their trespasses."
Therefore how absurd must it be for Christians to ob
ject, against the depravity of man's nature, a greater num
ber of innocent and "kind actions, than of crimes ; and to
talk of a prevailing innocency, good nature, industry, and
cheerfulness of the greater part of mankind ! Infinitely
more absurd, than it would be to insist, that the domestic
of a prince was not a bad servant, because though some
times he contemned and affronted his master to a great
degree, yet he did not spit in his master's face so often as
he performed acts of service. More absurd, than it would
be to affirm, that his spouse was a good wife to him, be
cause, although she committed adultery, and that with the
slaves and scoundrels sometimes, yet she did not do this
so often as she did the duties of a wife. These notions
would be absurd, because the crimes are too heinous to be
atoned for, by many honest actions of the servant or spouse
of the prince ; there being a vast disproportion between
the merit of the one, and the ill desert of the other : but
infinitely less, than that between the demerit of our of
fences against God, and the value of our acts of obedience.
Thus I have gone through with my first argument;
having shown the evidence of the truth of the proposition
laid down at first, and proved its consequence. But there
are many other things, that manifest a very corrupt ten
dency or disposition in man's nature, in his present state,
which I shall take notice of in the following sections.

SECT. IV.
The depravity of nature appears by a propensity in all to sin
immediately, us soon as they are capable of it, and to sin
continually and progressively ; and also by the remains
of sin in the best of men.
The great depravity of man's nature appears, not only
in that they universally commit sin, who spend any long
time in the world ; but in that men are naturally so prone
to sin, that none ever fail of immediately transgressing God's
law, and so of bringing infinite guilt on themselves, and
exposing themselves to eternal perdition, as soon as they
are capable of it.
The Scriptures are so verv express upon it, that all man
kind, all flesh, all the world, every man living, are guilty
of sin; that it must at least be understood, every one
* If any should object, that this is an overstraining of things ; and that it
supposes a greater mceness and exactness than is observed in scripture re
presentations, to infer from these expressions, that all men sin immediately
as soon as ever they are capable of it. To this I would say, that I think the
arguments used are truly solid, and do really and justly conclude, either
that men are born guilty, and so are chargeable with sin before they come
to act for themselves, or else commit sin immediately, without the least time
intervening, after they are capable of understanding their obligations to God,
and reflecting on themselves; and that the Scripture clearly determines,
there is not one such person in the world, free from sin. But whether this
be straining things to too great an exactness, or not ; yet I suppose, none
that do not entirely set aside the sense of such scriptures as have been men
tioned, and deny those propositions which Dr. T. himself allows to be con-

153
capable of active duty to God, or of sin against him. There
are multitudes in the world, who have but very lately be
gun to exert their faculties, as moral agents ; and so have
but just entered on their state trial, as acting for them
selves : many thousands constantly, who have not lived
one month, or week, or day, since they have arrived at any
period that can be assigned (for the commencement of
their agency) from their birth to twenty years of age.
Now — if there be not a strong propensity in men's nature
to sin, that should, as it were, hurry them on to speedy
transgression, and if they have no guilt previous to their
personal sinning— what should hinder, but that there might
always be a great number, who have hitherto kept them
selves free from sin, and have perfectly obeyed God's law,
and so are righteous in his sight, with'the righteousness of
the law 7 And who, if they should be called out of the
world without any longer trial, as great numbers die at all
periods of life, would be justified by the deeds of the law 7
And how then can it be true, that in God's sight no man
living can be justified, that no man can be just with God,
and that by the deeds of the law no flesh can be justified,
because by the law is the knowledge of sin ? And what
should hinder but that there may always be many in the
world — who are capable subjects of instruction and coun
sel, and of prayer to God — for whom the calls of God's
word to repentance, to seek pardon through the blood of
Christ, ana to forgive others their injuries because they need
that God should forgive them, would not be proper ; and
for whom the Lord's prayer is not suitable, wherein Christ
directs all his followers to pray, that God would forgive
their sins, as they forgive those that trespass against
them 7
If there are any in the world — though but lately become
capable of acting for themselves, as subjects of God's law
— who are perfectly free from sin ; such are most likely to be
found among the children of Christian parents, who give
them the most pious education, and set them the best ex
amples. And therefore, such would never be so likely to
be found in any part or age of the world, as in the primitive
Christian church, in the first age of Christianity, (the age of
the church's greatest purity,) so long after Christianity had
been established, that there had been time for great num
bers of children to be born, and educated by those primi
tive Christians, lt was in that age, and in such a part of
that age, that the apostle John wrote his first epistle to the
Christians. But if there was then a number of them come
to understanding, who were perfectly free from sin, why
should he write as he does 7 1 John i. 8, 9, 10. " If we
say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth
is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and
just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all un
righteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make
him a liar, and the truth is not in us."*
Again, the reality and greatness of the depravity of
man's nature appears in this, That he has a prevailing pro- -
pensity to be continually sinning against God. What has
been observed above, will clearly prove this. That same
disposition of nature, which is an effectual propensity to
immediate sin, amounts to a propensity to continual sin.
For a being prone to continual sinning, is nothing but a
proneness to immediate sin continued. Such appears to be
the tendency of nature to sin, that as soon as ever man is
capable, it causes him immediately to sin, without suffer
ing any considerable time to pass without sin. And there
fore, if the same propensity be continued undiminished,
there will be an equal tendency to immediate sinning again,
without any considerable time passing. And so the same
will always be a disposition still immediately to sin, with
as little time passing without sin afterwards, as at first.
The only reason that can be given why sinning must be
tained in some of them, will deny they prove, that no considerable time
passes after men are capable of acting for themselves, as the subjects of
God's law, before they are guilty of sin ; because if the time were con
siderable, it would be great enough to deserve to be taken notice of, as an
exception to such universal propositions, as, in thy sight shall no man living
be justified, &c. And if this be allowed, that men are so prone to sin, that
in fact all mankind do sin, as it were, immediately after they come to be
capable of it, or fail not to sin so soon, that no considerable time passes
before they run into transgression against God ; it does not much alter the
case, as to the present argument. If the time of freedom from sin be so
small, as not to be worthy of notice in the forementioned universal propo
sitions of Scripture, it is also so small, as not to be worthy of notice in the
present argument.

154

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

immediate at first, is that the disposition is so great, that it
will not suffer any considerable time to pass without sin :
and therefore, the same disposition being continued in
equal degree, without some new restraint, or contrary
tendency, it will still equally tend to the same effect. And
though it is true, the propensity may be diminished, or have
restraints laid upon it, by the gracious disposals of Provi
dence, or the merciful influences of God's Spirit ; yet this is
not owing to nature. That strong propensity of nature, by
which men are so prone to immediate sinning at first, has
no tendency in itself to a diminution ; but rather to an in
crease ; as the continued exercise of an evil disposition, in
repeated actual sins, tends to strengthen it more and more :
agreeable to that observation of Dr. T.'s, p. 228. " We are
apt to be drawn into sin by bodily appetites, and when
once we are under the government of these appetites, it is
at least exceeding difficult, if not impracticable, to recover
ourselves, by the mere force of reason." The increase of
strength of disposition in such a case, is as in a falling
body, the strength of its tendency to descend is continually
increased, so long as its motion is continued. Not only a
constant commission of sin, but a constant increase in the
habits and practice of wickedness, is the true tendency of
man's depraved nature, if unrestrained by divine grace ; as
the true tendency of the nature of a heavy body, if ob
stacles are removed, is not only to fall with a continual
motion, but with a constantly increasing motion. And we
see, that increasing iniquity is actually the consequence of
natural depravity, in most men, notwithstanding all the re
straints they have. Dispositions to evil are commonly
much stronger in adult persons, than in children, when
they first begin to act in the world as rational creatures.
If sin be such a thing as Dr. T. himself represents it, p.
69. " a thing of an odious and destructive nature, the cor
ruption and ruin of our nature, and infinitely hateful to
God ;" then such a propensity to continual and increasing
sin, must be a very evil disposition. And if we may judge
of the perniciousness of an inclination of nature, by the
evil of the effect it naturally tends to, the propensity of
man's nature must be evil indeed : for the soul beingim-
mortal, as Dr. T. acknowledges, p. 94. S. it will follow
from what has been observed above, that man has a natural
disposition to one of these two things ; either to an increase
of wickedness without end, or till wickedness comes to be
so great, that the capacity of his nature will not allow it to
be greater. This being what his wickedness will come to
by its natural tendency, if divine grace does not prevent, it
may as truly be said to be the effect which man's natural
corruption tends to, as that an acorn in a proper soil, truly
tends by its nature to become a great tree.
Again, That sin which is remaining in the hearts of the
best men on earth, makes it evident, that man's nature is
corrupt, as he comes into the world. A remaining depravity
of heart in the greatest saints, may be argued from the sins
of most of those who are set forth' in Scripture as the most
eminent instances and examples of virtue and piety : and
is also manifest from this, that the Scripture represents all
God's children as standing in need of chastisement. Heb.
xii. 6, 7, 8. " For whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth ;
and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. — What son is
he, whom the father chasteneth not? — If ye are without
chastisement, then are ye bastards, and not sons." But
this is directly and fully asserted in some places ; as in
Eccles. vii. 20. " There is not a just man upon earth, that
doeth good, and sinneth not." Which is as much as to
say, there is no man on earth, that is so just, as to have
attained to such a degree of righteousness, as not to com
mit any sin. Yea, the apostle James speaks of all Chris
tians as often sinning, or committing many sins ; even in
that primitive age of the christian church, an age distin
guished from all others by eminent attainments in holi
ness : Jam. iii. 2. " In many things we all offend." And
that there is pollution in the hearts of all antecedent to all
means for purification, is very plainly declared in Prov. xx.
9. " Who can say, I have made my heart clean, I am pure
from my sin 7"
According to Dr. T. men come into the world wholly
free from sinful propensities. And if so, it appears from
what has been already said, there would be nothing to
hinder, but that many, without being better than they are

by nature, might perfectly avoid the commission of sin
But much more might this be the case with men after
they had, by care, diligence, and good practice, attained
those positive habits of virtue, whereby they are at a much
greater distance from sin, than they were naturally : —
which this writer supposes to be the case with many
good men. But since the Scripture teaches us, that the
best men in the world do often commit sin, and have
remaining pollution of heart, this makes it abundantly
evident, that men, when they are no otherwise than they
were by nature, without any of those virtuous attainments,
have a sinful depravity ; yea, must have great corruption
of nature.

SECT. V.
The depravity of nature appears, in that the general con
sequence of the state and tendency of man's nature is a
much greater degree of sin, than righteousness; not
only with respect to value and demerit, but matter and
quantity.I have before shown, that there is a propensity in man's
nature to that sin, which in heinousness and ill desert im
mensely outweighs all the value and merit of any supposed
good, that may be in him, or that he can do. I now pro
ceed to say further, that such is man's nature, in his pre
sent state, that it tends to this lamentable effect, that there
should at all times, through the course of his life, be at
least much more sin, than righteousness ; not only as to
weight and value, but as to matter and measure; more dis
agreement of heart and practice from the law of God, and
from the law of nature and reason, than agreement and
conformity. The law of God is the rule of right, as Dr. T.
often calls it : It is the measure of virtue and sin : so much
agreement as there is with this rule, so much is there of
rectitude, righteousness, or true virtue, and no more ; and
so much disagreement as there is with this rule, so much
sin is there. Having premised this, the following things
may be here observed .
I. The degree of disagreement from this rule of right is
to be determined, not only by the degree of distance from
it iu excess, but also in defect ; or in other words, not only
in positive transgression, or doing what is forbidden, but *
also in withholding what is required. The divine Lawgiver
does as much prohibit the one as the other, and does as
much charge the latter as a sinful breach of his law, expos
ing to his eternal wrath and curse, as the former. Thus
at the day of judgment, as described Matt. xxv. The
wicked are condemned as cursed, to everlasting fire, for
their sin in defect and omission i I was an hungred, and ye
gave me no meat, Stc. And the case is thus, not only when
the defect is in word or behaviour, but in the inward tem
per and exercise of the mind. 1 Cor. xvi. 22. " If any
man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema
Maranatha." Dr. T. speaking of the sentence and punish
ment ofthe wicked, (Matt. xxv. 41,46.) says, p. 159.
" It was manifestly for want of benevolence, love, and
compassion to their fellow-creatures, that they were con
demned." And elsewhere, as was observed before, he
says, that the law of God extends to the latent principles of
sin to forbid them, and to condemn to eternal destruction
for them. And if so, it doubtless also extends to the in
ward principles of holiness, to require them, and in like
manner to condemn for the want of them.
II. The sum of our duty to God, required in his law,
is love ; taking love in a large sense, for the true regard of
our hearts to God, implying esteem, honour, benevolence;
gratitude, complacence, &c. This is not only very plain
by the Scripture, but it is evident in itself. The sum of
what the law of God requires, is doubtless obedience to
that law : no law can require more than that it be obeyed.
But it is manifest, that obedience is nothing, any otherwise
than as a testimony of the respect of our hearts to God :
without the heart, man's external acts are no more than the
motions of the limbs of a wooden image ; have no more of
the nature of either sin or righteousness. It must there
fore needs be, that love to God, the respect of the heart,
must be the sum ofthe duty required in his law.
III. It therefore appears from the premises, that whoso-

Sect. V.

ALL HAVE MORE SIN THAN VIRTUE.

155

ever withholds more of that love or respect of heart from
God, which his law requires, than he affords, has more sin
than righteousness. Not only he that has less divine love,
than passions and affections which are opposite ; but also
he that does not love God half so much as he ought, or
has reason to do, has justly more wrong than right imputed
to him, according to the law of God, and the law of reason ;
he has more irregularity than rectitude, with regard to the
law of love. The sinful disrespect of his heart towards
God, is greater than his respect to him.
But what considerate person is there, even among the
more virtuous part of mankind, but would be ashamed to
say, and profess before God or men, that he loves God
half so much as he ought to do ; or that he exercises one
half of that esteem, honour, and gratitude towards God,
which would be altogether becoming him ; considering
what God is, and what great manifestations he has made
of his transcendent excellency and goodness, and what
benefits he receives from him ? And if few or none of the
best of men can with reason and truth make even such a
profession, how far from it must the generality of man
kind be 7
The chief and most fundamental of all the commands of
the moral law, requires us to love the Lord our God with
all our hearts, and with all our souls, with all our strength,
and all our mind : that is, plainly, with all that is within
us, or to the utmost capacity of our nature. God is in
himself wort hy of infinitely greater love, than any creature
can exercise towards him ; love equal to his perfections,
which are infinite. God loves himself with no greater
love than he is worthy of, when he loves himself infinitely ;
but we can give God no more than we have. Therefore, if
we give him so much, if we love him to the utmost extent
of the faculties of our nature, we are excused. But when
what is proposed, is only that we should love him as much
as our capacity will allow, all excuse of want of capacity
ceases, and obligation takes hold of us ; and we are doubt
less obliged to love God to the utmost of what is possible
for us, with such faculties, and such opportunities and ad
vantages to know God, as we have. And it is evidently
implied in this great commandment of the law, that our
love to God should be so great, as to have the most abso
lute possession of all the soul, and the perfect govern
ment of all the principles and springs of action that are in
our nature.
Though it is not easy, precisely to fix the limits of man's
capacity, as to love to God ; yet in general we may deter
mine, that his capacity of love is coextended with his ca
pacity of knowledge : the exercise of the understanding
opens the way for the exercise of the other faculty. Now,
though we cannot have any proper positive understanding
of God's infinite excellency ; yet the capacity of the hu
man understanding is very great, and may be extended far.
It is needless to dispute, how far man's knowledge may be
said to be strictly comprehensive of things that are very
great, as of the extent of the expanse of the heavens, &c.
The word comprehensive, seems to be ambiguous. But
doubtless we are capable of some proper positive under
standing of the greatness of these things, in comparison of
other things that we know. We are capable of some clear
understanding of the greatness or considerableness of a
whole nation ; or of the whole world of mankind, as vastly
exceeding that of a particular person or family. We can
positively understand, that the whole globe of the earth is
vastly greater than a particular hill or mountain. And can
have some good positive apprehension ofthe starry heavens,
as so greatly exceeding the globe of the earth, that the lat
ter is as it were nothing to it. So the human faculties are
capable of a real and clear understanding of the greatness,
glory, and goodness of God, and of our dependence upon
him, from the manifestations which God has made of him
self to mankind, as being beyond all expression above that
of the most excellent human friend, or earthly object. And
so we are capable of esteem and love to God, which shall
be proportionable, much exceeding that which we have to
any creature.
These things may help us to form some judgment, how
vastly the generality of mankind fall below their duty, with
respect to love to God ; yea, how far they are from coming
half way to that height of love, which is agreeable to the

rule of right. Surely if our esteem of God, desires after
him, and delight in him, were such as become us, con
sidering the things forementioned, they would exceed our
regard to other things, as the heavens are high above the
earth, and would swallow up all other affections like a
deluge. But how far, how exceeding far, are the gener
ality of the world from any appearance of being influenced
and governed by such a degree of divine love as this !
If we consider the love of God, with respect to one ex
ercise of it, gratitude, how far indeed do the generality of
mankind come short of the rule of right and reason in this !
If we consider how various, innumerable, and vast the
benefits we receive from God, how infinitely great and
wonderful that grace, which is revealed and offered to
them who live under the gospel — in that eternal salvation
which is procured by God giving his only-begotten Son to
die for sinners — and also how unworthy we are all, deserv
ing (as Dr. T. confesses) eternal perdition under God's
wrath and curse — how great is the gratitude that would
become us, who are the subjects of so many and great
benefits ! What grace is this towards poor sinful lost
mankind, set before us in So affecting a manner, as in the
extreme sufferings of the Son of God ; who was carried
through those pains by a love stronger than death, a love
that conquered those mighty agonies, a love whose length
and breadth, and depth and height, passes knowledge ?
But oh ! what poor returns !— How little the gratitude !
How low, how cold and inconstant, the affection in the
best, compared with the obligation 1 And what then shall
be said of the gratitude of the generality ? Or rather, who
can express the ingratitude ?
If the greater part of them who are called Christians,
were no enemies to Christ in heart and practice, were not
governed by principles opposite to him and his gospel, but
had some real love and gratitude ; yet if their love falls
vastly short of the obligation, or occasion given, they are
guilty of shameful and odious ingratitude. As, when a
man has been the subject of some instance of transcendent
generosity, whereby he has been relieved from the most
extreme calamity, and brought into very opulent, honour
able, and happy circumstances, by a benefactor of excel
lent character; and yet expresses no more gratitude on
such an occasion, than would be requisite for some kind
ness comparatively infinitely small, he may justly fall
under the imputation of vile unlhankfulness, and of much
more ingratitude than gratitude ; though he may have no
ill will to his benefactor, or no positive affection of mind
contrary to thankfulness and benevolence. What is odi
ous in him is his defect, whereby he falls so vastly below
his duty.
Dr. Turnbull abundantly insists, that the forces of the
affections naturally in man are well proportioned ; and often
puts a question to this purpose, — How man's nature could
nave been better constituted in this respect? How the
affections of his heart could have been better proportion
ed ? — I will now mention one instance, out of many that
might be mentioned. Man, if his heart were not de
praved, might have had a disposition to gratitude to God
for his goodness, in proportion to his disposition to anger
towards men for their injuries. When I say, in propor
tion, I mean considering the greatness and number of fa
vours and injuries, and the degree in which the one and
the other are unmerited, and the benefit received by the
former, and the damage sustained by the latter. Is there
not an apparent and vast difference and inequality in the
dispositions to these two kinds of affection, in the gene
rality of both old and young, adult persons and little chil
dren 7 How ready is resentment for injuries received from
men ! And how easily is it raised in most, at least to an
equality with the desert ! And is it so with respect to
gratitude for benefits received from God, in any degree of
comparison? Dr. Turnbull pleads for the natural disposi
tion to anger for injuries, as being good and useful : but
surely gratitude to God, if we were inclined to it, would be
at least as good and useful as the other.
How far the generality of mankind are from their duty,
with respect to love to God, will further appear, if we con
sider that we are obliged not only to love him with a love
of gratitude for benefits received ; but true love to God
primarily consists in a supreme regard to him for what he

156

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

is in himself. The tendency of true virtue is to treat every
tiling as it is, and according to its nature. And if we re
gard the Most High according to the infinite dignity and
glory of his nature, we shall esteem and love him with all
our heart and soul, and to the utmost of the capacity of
our nature, on this account ; and not primarily because he
has promoted our interest. If God be infinitely excellent
in himself, then he is infinitely lovely on that account ;
or in other words, infinitely worthy to be loved. And
doubtless, if he be worthy to be loved for this, then he
ought to be loved for it. And it is manifest, there can be
no true love to him, if he be not loved for what he is in
himself. For if we love him not for his own sake, but for
something else, then our love is not terminated on him,
but on something else, as its ultimate object. That is no
true value for infinite worth, which implies no value for
that worthiness in itself considered, but only on the account
of something foreign. Our esteem of God is fundamen
tally defective, if it be not primarily for the excellency of
his nature, which is the foundation of all that is valuable
in him in any respect. If we love not Ood because he is
what he is, but only because he is profitable to us, in truth
we love him not at all : if we seem to love him, our love
is not to him, but to something else.
And now I must leave it to every one to judge for him
self, from his own opportunities of observation and infor
mation concerning mankind, how little there is of this
disinterested love to God, this pure divine affection, in the
world. How very little indeed in comparison of other af
fections altogether diverse, which perpetually urge, actuate,
and govern mankind, and keep the world, through all
nations and ages, in a continual agitation and commotion !
This is an evidence of a horrid contempt of God. It
would justly be esteemed a great instance of disrespect
and contempt of a prince, if one of his subjects, when he
came into his house, should set him below his meanest
slave. But in setting the infinite Jehovah below earthly
objects and enjoyments, men degrade him below those
things, between which and him there is an infinitely greater
distance, than between the highest earthly potentate and
the most abject of mortals. Such a conduct as the gene
rality of men are guilty of towards God, continually and
through all ages, in innumerable respects, would be ac
counted the most vile contemptuous treatment of a fellow-
creature, of distinguished dignity. Particularly men's
treatment of the offers God make's of himself to" them as
their friend, their father, their God, and everlasting por
tion ; their treatment of" the exhibitions he has made of
his unmeasurable love, and the boundless riches of his
grace in Christ, attended with earnest repeated calls,
counsels, expostulations, and entreaties ; as also of the most
dreadful threatenings of his eternal displeasure a-id ven
geance. Before I finish this section, it may be proper to say
something in reply to an objection, some may be ready to
make, against the' force of this argument— that men do' not
come half-way to that degree of love to God, which be
comes them, and is their duty. The objection is this :
That the argument seems to prove too much, in that it
will prove, that even good men themselves have more sin
than holiness ; which also has been supposed. But if this
were true, it would follow, that sin is the prevalent prin
ciple even in good men, and that it is the principle which
has the predominancy in the heart and practice of the truly
pious; which is plainly contrary to the word of -God.
I answer, If it be indeed so, that there is more sin, con
sisting in defect of required holiness, than there is of
holiness, in good men in this world ; yet it will not follow,
that sin has the chief government of their heart and prac
tice, for two reasons.
1 . They may love God more than other things, and yet
there may not be so much love, as there is want of due
love ; or in other words, they may love God more than the
world, and therefore the love of God may be predominant,
and yet may not love God near half "so much as they
ought to do. This need not be esteemed a paradox : A
. person may love a father, or some great friend and bene
factor, of a very excellent character, more than some other .
object, a thousand times less worthy of his esteem and
affection, and yet love him ten times less than he ought ;

and so be chargeable, all things considered, with a defi
ciency in respect and gratitude, that is very unbecoming
and hateful. If love to God prevails above the love of
other things, then virtue will prevail above evil affections,
or positive principles of sin ; by which principles it is, _iat
sin has a positive power and influence. For evil affec
tions radically consist in inordinate love to other things
besides God : and therefore, virtue prevailing beyond
these, will have the governing influence. The predomi
nance of the love of God in the hearts of good men, is more
from the nature of the object loved, and the nature ofthe
principle of true love, than the degree of the principle.
The object is one of supreme loveliness ; immensely above
all other objects in worthiness of regard ; and it is by
such a transcendent excellency, that he is God, and worthy
to be regarded and adored as God : and he that truly
loves God, loves him as God. True love acknowledges
him to be divinely and supremely excellent ; and must
arise from some knowledge, sense, and conviction of his
worthiness of supreme respect : and though the sense and
view of it may be very imperfect, and. the love that arises
from it in like manner imperfect; yet if there be any
realizing view of such divine excellency, it must cause the
heart to respect God above all.
2. Another reason, why a principle of holiness main
tains the dominion in the hearts of good men, is the nature
of the covenant of grace, and the promises of that cove
nant, on which true christian virtue relies, and which
engage God's strength and assistance to be on its side, and
to help it against its enemy, that it may not b& overcome.
The just live by faith. Holiness in the Christian, or his
spiritual life, is maintained, as it has respect by faith
to its author and finisher, and derives strength and
efficacy from the divine fountain, and by this means
overcomes. For, as the apostle says, This is the victory
that overcomes the world, even our faith. It is our faith in
him who has promised never to leave nor forsake his
people ; not to forsake the works of his own hands, nor
suffer his people to be tempted above their ability ; that
his grace shall be sufficient for them, his strength be made
perfect in weakness ; and that where he has begun a good
work he will carry it on to the day of Christ.

SECT. VI.
The corruption of man's nature appears by its tendency,
in its present state, to an extreme degree of Jolly and
stupidity in matters of religion.
It appears, that man's nature is greatly depraved, by an
apparent proneness to an exceeding stupidity and sottish-
ness in those things wherein his duty and main interest
are chiefly concerned. I shall instance in two things, viz.
men's proneness to idolatry ; and a general, great disre
gard of eternal things, in them who live under the light of
the gospel.
It is manifest, in the first instance, that man's nature in
its present state is attended with a great propensity to for
sake the acknowledgment and worship of the true God,
and to fall into the most stupid idolatry. This has been
sufficiently proved by known fact, on abundant trial : in
somuch as the world of mankind in general (excepting one
small people, miraculously delivered and preserved)
through all nations, in all parts of the world, ages after
ages, continued without the knowledge and worship of the
true God, and overwhelmed in gross idolatry, without the
least appearance or prospect of its recovering" itself from so
great blindness, or returning from its brutish principles and
customs, till delivered by divine grace.
In order to the most just arguing from fact, concerning
the tendency of man's nature, as that is in itself, it should
be inquired what the event has been, where nature has
been left to itself, to operate according to its own tendency,
with least opposition made to it by any thing supernatural';
rather than in exempt places, where the infinite power and
grace of God have interposed, and extraordinary means
have been used to stem the current, and bring men to true
religion and virtue. As to the means by which God's
people of old, in the line of Abraham, were delivered and

Sect. VI.

MEN'S PRONENESS TO EXTREME STUPIDITY, &c.

157

preserved from idolatry, they were miraculous, and of
mere grace. Notwithstanding which, they were often re
lapsing into the notions and ways of the heathen ; and
when they had backslidden, never were recovered, but by
divine gracious interposition. And as to the means by
which many gentile nations have been delivered since the
days of the gospel, they are such as have been wholly
owing to the most wonderful, miraculous, and infinite
grace. . God was under no obligation to bestow on the
heathen world greater advantages than they had in the
ages of their gross darkness ; as appears by the fact, that
God actually did not, for so long a time, "bestow greater
advantages. ' Dr. T. himself observes, (Key, p. 1.) That in about four
hundred years after the flood, the generality of mankind
were fallen into idolatry. Arid thus it was every where
through the world, excepting among that people that was
saved and preserved by a constant series of miracles,
through a variety of countries, nations, and climates, great
enough — and through successive changes, revolutions, and
ages, numerous enough — to be a sufficient trial of what man
kind are prone to, if there be any such thing/ as a suf
ficient trial.
That men should forsake the true God for idols, is an
evidence of the most astonishing folly and stupidity, by
God's own testimony, Jer. ii. 12, 13. " Be astonished, 0
ye heavens, at this, and be ye horribly afraid, be ye very
desolate, saith the Lord : for my people have committed
two evils ; they have forsaken me, the fountain of living
waters, and have hewed out to themselves cisterns, broken
cisterns, that can hold no water." And that mankind in
general did thus, so soon after the flood, was from the evil
propensity of their hearts, and because they did not like to
retain God in their knowledge ; as is evident by Rom. i.
28. And the universality of the effect shows that the
cause was universal, and not any thing belonging to the
particular circumstances of one, or only some nations or
ages, but something belonging to that nature, which is
common to all nations, and which remains the same
through all ages. And what other cause could this great
effect possibly arise from, but a depraved disposition,
natural to all mankind 7 It could not arise from want of a
sufficient capacity or means of knowledge. This is in
effect confessed on all hands. Dr. Turnbull (Chris. Phil.
p. 21.) says : " The existence of one infinitely powerful,
wise, and good mind, the Author, Creator, Upholder, and
Governor of all things, is a truth that lies plain and obvi
ous to all that will but think." And (ibid. p. 245.) " Moral
knowledge, which is the most important of all knowledge,
may easily be acquired by all men." And again, (ibid. p.
292.) " livery man by himself, if he would duly employ
his mind in the contemplation of the works of God about
him, or in the examination of his own frame, — might
make very great progress in the knowledge of the wisdom
and goodness of God. This all men, generally speaking,
might do, with very little assistance; for they have all
sufficient abilities for thus employing their minds, and
have all sufficient time for it." Mr. Locke says, (Hum.
Und. p. iv. chap. iv. p. 242. edit. 11.) " Our own exist
ence, and the sensible parts of the universe, offer the
proofs of a Deity so clearly and cogently to our thoughts,
that I deem it impossible for a considerate man to with
stand them. For I judge it as certain and clear a truth,
as can any where be delivered, that the invisible things of
God are clearly seen from the creation of the world, being
understood by the things that are made, even his eternal
power and godhead." And Dr. T. himself (in p. 78>)
says, " The light given to all ages and nations of the
world, is sufficient for the knowledge and practice of their
duty." And (p. Ill, 112.) citing those words of the
apostle, Rom. ii. 14, 15. he says, " This clearly supposes
that the Gentiles, who were then in the world, might have
done the things contained in the law by nature, or their
natural power." And in one of the next sentences he
says, " The apostle,' in Rom. i. 19, 20, 21. affirms that the
Gentiles had light sufficient to have seen God's eternal
power and godhead, in the works of creation ; and that
the reason why they did not glorify him as God, was be
cause they became vain in their imaginations, and had
darkened their foolish heart; so that they were without

excuse. And in his paraphrase on those verses in the 1st
of Rom. he speaks of the very heathens, that were with
out a written revelation, as having that clear and evident
discovery of God's being and perfections, that they are
inexcusable in not glorifying him suitably to his excellent
nature, and as the author of their being and enjoyments."
And (p. 146. S.) he says, " God affords every man suf
ficient light to know his duty." If all ages and nations
of the world have sufficient light for the knowledge of
God, and their duty to him, then even such nations and
ages, in which the most brutish ignorance and barbarity
prevailed, had sufficient light, if they had but a disposition
to improve it ; and then much more those of the heathen,
which were more knowing and polished, and in ages
wherein arts and learning had made greatest advances.
But even in such nations and ages, there was no advance
made towards true religion ; as Dr. Winder observes,
(Hist, of Knowl. vol. ii. p. 3 3 6.) 'in the following words ;
" The pagan religion degenerated into greater absurdity,
the further it proceeded ; and it prevailed in all its height
of absurdity, when the pagan nations were polished to the
height. Though they set out with the talents of reason,
and had solid foundations of information to build upon, it
in fact proved, that with all their strengthened faculties,
and growing powers of reason, the edifice of religion rose
in the most absurd deformities and disproportions, and
gradually went on in the most irrational, disproportioned,
incongruous systems, of which the most easy dictates of
reason would have demonstrated the absurdity. They
were contrary to all just calculations in moral mathe
matics." He observes, " that their grossest abominations
first began in Egypt, where was an ostentation of the
greatest progress in learning and science : and they never
renounced clearly any of their abominations, or openly
returned to the worship of the one true God, the Creator
of all things, and to the original, genuine sentiments of
the highest and most venerable antiquity. The pagan re
ligion continued in this deep state of corruption to the
last. The pagan philosophers, and inquisitive men, made
great improvements in many sciences, and even in mo
rality itself; yet the inveterate absurdities of pagan
idolatry remained without remedy. Every temple smoked
with incense to the sun and moon, and other inanimate
material luminaries, and earthly elements, to Jupiter, Juno,
Mars, and Venus, &c. the patrons and examples of almost
every vice. Hecatombs bled on the altars of a thousand
gods ; as mad superstition inspired. And this was not the
disgrace of our ignorant untaught northern countries only;
but even at Athens itself, the infamy reigned, and circu
lated through all Greece ; and finally prevailed, amidst
all their learning and politeness, under the Ptolemies in
Egypt, and the Ctesars at Rome. Now if the knowledge
of the pagan world, in religion, proceeded no further than
this ; if they retained all their deities, even the most absurd
of them all, their deified beasts, and deified men, even to
the last breath of pagan power : we may justly ascribe
the great improvements in the world, on the subject of
religion, to divine revelation, either vouchsafed in the be
ginning, when this knowledge was competently clear and
copious ; or at the death of paganism, when this light
shone forth in its consummate lustre at the coming of
Christ." Dr. T. often speaks of the idolatry of the heathen world,
as great wickedness, in which they were wholly inexcus
able ; and yet often speaks of their case as remediless,
and of them as being dead in sin, and unable to recover
themselves. If so, and yet, according to his own doc
trine, every age, every nation, and every man, had sufficient
light afforded, to know God, and their whole duty to him ;
then their inability to deliver themselves must be a moral
inability, consisting in a desperate depravity, and most
evil disposition of heart.
And if there had not been sufficient trial of the pro
pensity of the hearts of mankind, through all those ages
that passed from Abraham to Christ, the trial has been
continued down to this day, in all those vast regions of
the face of the earth, that have remained without any
effects of the light of the gospel ; and the dismal effect
continues every where unvaried. How was it with that
multitude of nations inhabiting South and North America?

158

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Cii. I.

What appearance was there, when the Europeans first
came hither, of their being recovered, or recovering, in
any degree, from the grossest ignorance, delusions, and
most stupid paganism? And how is it at this day, in
those parts of Africa and Asia, into which the light of the
gospefhas not penetrated 7
This strong and universally prevalent disposition of
mankind to idolatry, of which there has been such great
trial, and so notorious and vast proof, in fact, is a most
glaring evidence of the exceeding depravity of the human
nature ; as it is a propensity, in the utmost degree, con
trary to the highest end, the main business, and chief hap
piness of mankind— consisting in the knowledge, service,
and enjoyment of the living God, the Creator and Governor
of the world— in the highest degree contrary to that for
which mainly God gave mankind more understanding than
the beasts of the earth, and made them wiser than the
fowls of heaven ; which was, that they might be capable
of the knowledge of God. It is also in the highest degree
contrary to the first and greatest commandment of the
moral law, That we slvould have no other gods before Je
hovah, and that we should love and adore him with all
our heart, soul, mind, and strength. The Scriptures are
abundant in representing the idolatry of the heathen world,
as their exceeding wickedness, and their most brutish stu
pidity. They who worship and trust in idols, are said
themselves to be like the lifeless statues they worship, like
mere senseless stocks and stones. (Psalm cxv. 4—8. and
cxxxv. 15 — 18.)
A second instance of the natural stupidity of mankind,
is that great disregard of their own eternal interest, which
appears so remarkably, so generally among them who live
under the gospel.
Mr. Locke observes, (Hum. Und. vol. i. p. 207.) "Were
the will determined by the views of good, as it appears in
contemplation, greater or less to the understanding, it
could never get loose from the infinite eternal joys of
heaven, once proposed, and considered as possible ; the
eternal condition of a future state infinitely outweighing
the expectation of riches or honour, or any other worldly
pleasure, which we can propose to ourselves ; though we
should grant these the more probable to be obtained."
Again, (p. 228, 229.) "He that will not be so far a rational
creature, as to reflect seriously upon infinite happiness and
misery, must needs condemn himself, as not making that
use of his understanding he should. The rewards and
punishments of another life, which the Almighty has es
tablished, as the enforcements of his laws, are of weight
enough to determine the choice, against whatsoever plea
sure or pain this life can show. When the eternal state
is considered but in its bare possibility, which nobody can
make any doubt of, he that will allow exquisite and endless
happiness to be but the possible consequence of a good
life here, and the contrary state the possible reward of a
bad one, must own himself to judge very much amiss, if
he does not conclude that a virtuous life, with the certain
expectation of everlasting bliss, which may come, is to be
preferred to a vicious one; with the fear of that dreadful
state of misery, which it is very possible may overtake the
guilty, or at least the terrible uncertain hope of annihila
tion. This is evidently so ; though the virtuous life here
had nothing but pain, and the vicious continual pleasure ;
which yet is for the most part quite otherwise, and wicked
men have not much the odds to brag of, even in their
present possession : nay, all things rightly considered,
have I think even the worst part here. But when infinite
happiness is put in one scale, against infinite misery in the
other ; if the worst that comes to the pious man, if he
mistakes, be the best that the wicked man can attain to, if
he be in the right ; who can, without madness, run the
venture ? Who in his wits would choose to come within
a possibility of infinite misery 7 which if he miss, there
is yet nothing to be got by that hazard : whereas, on the
other side, the sober man ventures nothing, against infinite
nappiness to be got, if his expectation comes to pass."
That disposition of mind which is a propensity to act
contrary to reason, is a depraved disposition. It is not
because the faculty of reason, which God has given to
mankind, is not sufficient fully to discover to them, that
forty, sixty, or an hundred years, is as nothing in com

parison of eternity— infinitely less than a second of time
to an hundred years— that the greatest worldly prosperity
is not treated with the most perfect disregard, in all cases
where there is any degree of competition of earthly things,
with salvation from exquisite, eternal misery, and the en
joyment of everlasting glory and felicity. But is it a
matter of controversy, whether men ip general show a strong
disposition to act far otherwise, from their infancy, tin
death sensibly approaches ? In things that concern their
temporal interest, they easily discern the difference between
things of a long and short continuance. It is no hard
matter to convince men of the difference between being
admitted to the accommodations and entertainments of a
convenient, beautiful, well-furnished habitation, and to
partake of the provisions and produce of a plentiful estate
for a day, or a night ; and having all given them, and
settled upon them, as their own, to possess as long as they
live, and to be theirs and their heirs' for ever. There
would be no need of preaching sermons, and spending
strength and life, to convince them of the difference. Men
know how to adjust things in their dealings and contracts
one with another, according to the length of time in which
anything agreed for is to be used or enjoyed. In temporal
affairs, they are sensible, that it concerns them to provide
for future time, as well as for the present. Thus common
prudence teaches them to take care in summer to lay up
for winter ; yea, to provide a fund, or an estate, whence
they may be supplied for a long time to come. And not
only so, but they are forward to spend and be spent, in
order to provide for their children after they are dead ;
though it be quite uncertain, who shall enjoy what they
lay up, after they have left the world. And if their chil
dren should have the comfort of it, as they desire, they
will not partake with them in that comfort, or have any
portion in any thing under the sun. In things which re
late to men's temporal interest, they seem very sensible of
the uncertainty of life, especially of the lives of others ;
and to make answerable provision for the security of their
worldly interest, that no considerable part of it may rest
only on so uncertain a foundation, as the life of a neighbour
or friend. Common discretion leads them to take good
care, that their outward possessions be well secured, by a
good and firm title. In worldly concerns, men discern
their opportunities, and are careful to improve them before
they are past. The husbandman is careful to plough his
ground, and sow his seed, in the proper season ; otherwise
he knows he cannot expect a crop : and when the harvest
is come, he will not sleep away the time ; for he knows, if
he does so, the crop will soon be lost. How careful and
eagle-eyed is the merchant to improve opportunities to
enrich himself! How apt are men to be alarmed at the
appearance of danger to their worldly estate, or any thing
that remarkably threatens great damage to their outward
interest ! And how will they bestir themselves in such a
case, if possible, to avoid the threatened calamity ! In
things purely secular, and not of a moral or spiritual
nature, they easily receive conviction by past experience,
when any thing, on repeated trial, proves unprofitable or
Erejudicial ; and are ready to take warning by what they
ave found themselves, and also by the experience of then
neighbours and forefathers.
But if we consider how men generally conduct them
selves in things on which their well-being infinitely more
depends, how vast is the diversity ! In these things how
cold, lifeless, and dilatory 1 With what difficulty are a few,
out of multitudes, excited to any tolerable degree of care
and diligence, by the innumerable means used, in order to
make them-wise for themselves ! And when some vigilance
and activity is excited, how apt is it to die away, like a
mere force against a natural tendency ! What need of
a constant repetition of admonitions" and counsels, to
keep the heart from -falling asleep ! How many objections
are made ! How are difficulties magnified f And how
soon is the mind discouraged ! How many arguments,
often renewed, variously and elaborately enforced, do men
stand in need of, to convince them of things that are
almost self-evident ! As that things which are eternal, are
infinitely more important than things temporal, and the
like. And after all, how very few are convinced effectually,
or in such a manner as to induce them to a practical pre-

Sect. VI.

MEN'S PRONENESS TO EXTREME STUPIDITY, &c.

159

ference of eternal things ! How senseless are men of the
necessity of improving their time, as to their spiritual in
terest, and their welfare in another world ! Though it be
an endless futurity, and though it be their own personal,
infinitely important good, that is to be cared for. Though
men are so sensible of the uncertainty of their neighbours'
lives, when any considerable part of their own estates de-
f lends on the continuance of them ; how stupidly sense-
ess do they seem to be of the uncertainty of their own
lives, when their preservation from immensely great, re
mediless, and endless misery, is risked by a present delay,
through a dependence on future opportunity ! What a
dreadful venture will men carelessly and boldly run, re
peat, and multiply, with regard to their eternal salvation ;
who yet are very careful to have every thing in a deed or
bond, firm, and without a flaw ! How negligent are they
of their special advantages and opportunities for their
soul's good ! How hardly awakened by the most evident
and imminent dangers, threatening eternal destruction,
yea, though put in mind of them, and much pains taken
to point them forth, show them plainly, and fully to re
present them, if possible to engage their attention ! How
are they like the horse, that boldly rushes into the battle !
How hardly are men convinced by their own frequent and
abundant experience, of the unsatisfactory nature of
earthly things, and the instability of their own hearts in
their good frames and intentions f And how hardly con
vinced by their own observation, and the experience of all
past generations, of the uncertainty of life and its enjoy
ments ! Psal. xlix. 11, &c. " Their inward thought is,
that their houses shall continue for ever.— Nevertheless,
man being in honour, abideth not ; he is like the beasts
that perish. This their way is their folly ; yet their pos
terity approve their sayings. Like sheep are they laid in
the grave."
In these things, men who are prudent for their temporal
interest, act as if they were bereft of reason : " They have
eyes, and see not; ears, and hear not; neither do they
understand : they are like the horse and mule, that have
no understanding." — Jer. viii. 7. " The stork in the heaven
knoweth her appointed times ; and the turtle, and the
crane, and the swallow, observe the time of their coming :
but my people know not the judgment of the Lord."
These things are often mentioned in Scripture, as evi
dences of extreme folly and stupidity, wherein men act as
great enemies to themselves, as though they loved their
own ruin; Prov. viii. 36. Laying wait for their own
blood, Prov. i. 18. And how can these things be ac
counted for, but by supposing a most wretched depravity
of nature 7 Why otherwise should not men be as wise for
themselves in spiritual and eternal things, as in temporal 7
All Christians will confess, that man's faculty of reason
was given him chiefly to enable him to understand the
former, wherein his main interest and true happiness
consist. This faculty would therefore undoubtedly be
every way as fit for understanding them, as the latter, if
not depraved. The reason why these are understood, and
not the other, is not that such things as have been men
tioned, belonging to men's spiritual and eternal interest,
are more obscure and abstruse in their own nature. For
instance, the difference between long and short, the need
of providing for futurity, the importance of improving
proper opportunities, and of having good security, and a
sure foundation, in affairs wherein our interest is greatly
concerned, &c. these things are as plain in themselves in
religious, as in other matters. And we have far greater
means to assist us to be wise for ourselves in eternal than
in temporal things. We have the abundant instruction of
perfect and infinite wisdom itself, to lead and conduct us
in the paths of righteousness, so that we may not err.
And the reasons of things are most clearly, variously, and
abundantly set before us in the word of God ; which is
adapted to the faculties of mankind, tending greatly to en
lighten and convince the mind : whereas, we have no such
excellent and perfect rules to instruct and direct us in
things pertaining to our temporal interest, nor any thing to
be compared to it.
If any should say, It is true, if men gave full credit to
what they are told concerning eternal things, and these
appeared to them as real and certain things, it would be

an evidence of a sort of madness in them, that they show
no greater regard to them in practice : but there is reason
to think, this is not the case ; the things of another world
being unseen, appear to men as things of a very doubtful
nature, and attended with great uncertainty  In answer,
1 would observe, agreeable to what has been cited from
Mr. Locke, though eternal things were considered in their
bare possibility, if men acted rationally, they would infi
nitely outweigh all temporal things in their influence on
their hearts. And I would also observe, that to suppose
eternal things not to be fully believed, at least by them
who enjoy the light of the gospel, does not weaken, but
rather strengthen, the argument for the depravity of na
ture. For the eternal world being what God had chiefly
in view in the creation of men, this world was made
wholly subordinate to the other, man's state here being
only a state of probation, preparation, and progression,
with respect to the future state. Eternal things are in
effect their all, their whole concern ; to understand and
know which, it chiefly was, that they had understanding
given them ; therefore we may undoubtedly conclude, that
if men have not respect to them as real and certain things,
it cannot be for want of sufficient evidence of their truth :
but it must be from a dreadful stupidity of mind, occa
sioning a sottish insensibility of their truth and importance,
when manifested by the clearest evidence.

SECT. VII.
That man's nature is corrupt, appears, in that by far the
greater part of mankind, in all ages, have been wicked
men.
The depravity of man's nature appears, not only in its
propensity to sin in some degree, which renders a man an
evil or wicked man in the eye ofthe law, and strict jus
tice, as was before shown ; but it is so corrupt, that its
depravity either shows that men are, or tends to make
them to be, of such an evil character, as shall denominate
them wicked men, according to the tenor of the covenant
of grace.
This may be argued from several things which have
been already observed : as from a tendency to continual
sin ; a tendency to much greater degrees of sin than
righteousness, and from the general extreme stupidity of
mankind. But yet the present state of man's nature, as
implying, or tending to, a wicked character, may deserve to
be more particularly considered, and directly proved. And
in general, this appears, in that there have been so very
few in the world, from age to age, ever since the world has
stood, that have been of any other character.
It is abundantly evident in Scripture, and is what I
suppose none that call themselves Christians will deny,
that the whole world is divided into good and bad, and
that all mankind at the day of judgment will either be
approved as righteous, or condemned as wicked : either
glorified, as children ofthe kingdom, or cast into a furnace
of fire, as children of the wicked one.
I need not stand to show what things belong to the
character of such as shall hereafter be accepted as right
eous, according to the word of God. It may be sufficient
for my present purpose, to observe what Dr. T. himself
speaks of, as belonging essentially to the character of such.
In p. 203. he says, " This is infallibly the character of
true Christians, and what is essential to such, that they
have really mortified the flesh with its lusts ; — they are
dead to sin, and live no longer therein ; the old man is
crucified, and the body of sin destroyed : they yield
themselves to God, as those that are alive from the dead,
and their members as instruments of righteousness to God,
and as servants of righteousness to holiness." — There is
more to the like purpose in the two next pages. In p.
228. he says, " Whatsoever is evil and corrupt in us, we
ought to condemn ; not so, as it shall still remain in us,
that we may always be condemning it, but that we may
speedily reform, and be effectually delivered from it; other
wise certainly we do not come up to the character of the
true disciples of Christ."
In p. 248. he says, " Unless God's favour be preferred

160

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Cn. I.

before all other enjoyments whatsoever, unless there be a
delight in the worship of God, and in converse with him,
unless every appetite be brought into subjection to reason
and truth, and unless there be a kind and benevolent dis
position towards our fellow-creatures, how can the mind
be fit to dwell with God, in his house and family, to do
him service in his kingdom, and to promote the happiness
of any part of his creation." — And in his Key, § 286. p.
101, 102, &c. showing there, what it is to be a true Chris
tian, he says, among other things, " That he is one who
has such a sense and persuasion of the love of God in
Christ, that he devotes his life to the honour and service
of God, in hope of eternal glory. And that to the character
of a true Christian, it is absolutely necessary, that he dili
gently study the things that are freely given him of God,
viz. his election, regeneration, &c. that he may gain a just
knowledge of those inestimable privileges, may taste that
the Lord is gracious, and rejoice in the gospel-salvation,
as his greatest happiness and glory. — It is necessary, that
he work these blessings on his heart, till they become a
vital principle, producing in him the love of God, engaging
him to all cheerful obedience to his will, giving him a
proper dignity and elevation of soul, raising him above the
best and worst of this world, carrying his heart into heaven,
and fixing his affections and regards upon his everlasting
inheritance, and the crown of glory laid up for him there 
Thus he is armed against all the temptations and trials
resulting from any pleasure or pain, hopes or fears, gain
or loss, in the present world. None of these things move
him from a faithful discharge of any part of his duty, or
from a firm attachment to truth and righteousness ; neither
counts he his very life dear to him, that he may do the
will of God, and finish his course with joy. In a sense
of the love of God in Christ, he maintains daily commu
nion with God, by reading and meditating on his word.
In a sense of his own infirmity, and the readiness of the
divine favour to succour him, he daily addresses the throne
of grace, for the renewal of spiritual strength, in assurance
of obtaining it, through the one Mediator Christ Jesus.
Enlightened and directed by the heavenly doctrine of the
gospel," &c*
Now I leave every one that has any degree of impar
tiality, to judge, whether there be not sufficient grounds to
think, that it is but a very small part indeed, of the many
myriads and millions which overspread this globe, who
are of a character that in any wise answers these descrip
tions. However Dr. T. insists, that all nations, and every
man on the face of the earth, have light and means suffi
cient to do the whole will of God, even they that live in
the grossest darkness of paganism.
Dr. T. in answer to arguments of this kind, very imper
tinently from time to time objects, that we are no judges
of the viciousness of men's characters, nor are able to de
cide in what degree they are virtuous or vicious. As
though we could have no good grounds to judge, that any
thing appertaining to the qualities or properties of the
mind, which is invisible, is general or prevailing among a
multitude or collective body, unless we can determine how
it is with each individual. I think I have sufficient rea
son, from what I know and have heard of the American
Indians, to judge, that there are not many good philoso
phers among them ; though the thoughts of their hearts,
and the ideas and knowledge they have in their minds, are
things invisible ; and though I have never seen so much as
a thousandth part of the Indians; and with respect to
most of them, should not be able to pronounce perempto
rily concerning any one, that he was not very knowing in
the nature of things, if all should singly pass before me.
And Dr. T. himself seems to be sensible of the falseness of
his own conclusions, that he so often urges against others ;
if we may judge by his practice, and the liberties he takes^
in judging of a multitude himself. He, it seems, is sensi
ble that a man may have good grounds to judge, that
wickedness of character is general in a collective body ;
because he openly does it himself. (Key, p. 102.) After de
claring the things which belong to the character of a true
Christian, he judges of the generality of Christians, that
they have cast off these things, that they are a people that
• What Dr. Turnbull says of the character of a good man, is also worthy

do err in their hearts, and liave not known God's ways,
p. 259. he judges, that the generality of Christians are the
most wicked of all mankind, when he thinks it will throw
some disgrace on the opinion of such as he opposes. The
like we have from time to time in other places, (as p. 168.
p. 258. Key, p. 127, 128.)
But if men are not sufficient judges, whether there are
few of the world of mankind but what are wicked, yet
doubtless God is sufficient, and his judgment, often de
clared in his word, determines the matter. Matt. vii. 13,
14. " Enter ye in at the strait gate : for wide is the gate
and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and manv
there be that go in thereat : because strait is the gate and
narrow is the way that leadeth to life, and few there be
that find it." It is manifest, that here Christ is not only
describing the state of things, as it was at that day, and
does not mention the comparative smallness of the number
of them that are saved, as a consequence of the peculiar
perverseness of that people, and of that generation ; but as
a consequence of the general circumstances of the way to
life, and the way to destruction, the broadness of the one,
and the narrowness of the other. In the straitness of the
gate, &c. I suppose none will deny, that Christ has re
spect to the strictness of those rules, which he had insisted
on in the preceding sermon, and which render the way to
life very difficult. But certainly these amiable rules would
not be difficult, were they not contrary to the natural in
clinations of men's hearts ; and they would not be contrary
to those inclinations, were these not depraved. Conse
quently the wideness of the gate, and broadness of the
way, that leads to destruction, in consequence of which
many go in thereat, must imply the agreeableness of this
way to men's natural inclinations. The like reason is
given by Christ, why few are saved. Luke xiii. 23, 24.
" Then said one unto him, Lord, are there few saved ?
•And he said unto them, Strive to enter in at the strait gate :
for many I say unto you, shall seek to enter in, and shall
not be able." That there are generally but few good men
in the world, even among them who have the most dis
tinguishing and glorious advantages for it, is evident by
that saying of our Lord, " Many are called, but few are
chosen." And if there are but few among these, how few,
how very few indeed, must persons of this character be,
compared with the whole world of mankind ! The ex
ceeding smallness of the number of the saints, compared
with the whole world, appears by the representations often
made of them as distinguished from the world ; in which
they are spoken of as called and chosen out ofthe world,
redeemed from the earth, redeemed from among men ; as
being those that are of God, while the whole world lieth
in wickedness, and the like.
And if we look into the Old Testament, we shall find
the same testimony given. Prov. xx. 6. " Most men will
proclaim every man his own goodness : but a faithful man
who can find ?" By the faithful man, as the phrase is
used in Scripture, is intended much the same as a sincere,
upright, or truly good man; as in Psal. xii. 1. and xxxi.
23. and ci. 6. and other places. Again, Eccl. vii. 25—29.
" I applied mine heart to know, and to search, and to find
out wisdom, and the reason of things, and to know the
wickedness of folly, even of foolishness and madness :
and I find more bitter than death, the woman whose heart
is snares, &c. Behold, this have I found, saith the preacher,
counting one by one, to find out the account, which yet
my soulseeketh, but I find not : one man among a thou
sand have I found : but a woman among all these have I
not found. Lo, this only have I found, that God made
man upright ; but they have sought out many inventions."
Solomon here signifies, that when he set himself diligently
to find out the account or proportion of true wisdom, or
thorough uprightness among men, the result was, that be
found it to be but as one to a thousand, &c. Dr. T. on
this place, p. 184. says, " The wise man in the context, is
inquiring into the corruption and depravity of mankind, of
the men and women, that lived in his time." As
though what he said represented nothing of the state of
things in the world in general, but only in his time. But
does Dr. T. or any body else, suppose this only to be the
to be observed, Chris. Phil. p. 86, 858, 259, 288, 375, 376, 409, 410.

Sect. VII.

GENERALITY OF MANKIND, WICKED.

design of that book, to represent the vanity and evil of the
world in that time, and to show that all was vanity and
vexation of spirit in Solomon's day ? That day truly, we
have reason to think, was a day of the greatest smiles of
Heaven on that nation, that ever had been on any nation
from the foundation ofthe world. Not only does the sub
ject and argument of the whole book show it to be other
wise ; but also the declared design of the book in the first
chapter ; where the world is represented as very much the
same, as to its vanity and evil, from age to age. It makes
little or no progress, after all its revolutions and restless
motions, labours, and pursuits ; like the sea, that has all
the rivers constantly emptying themselves into it, from age
to age, and yet is never the fuller. As to that place,
Prov. xx. 6. " A faithful man who can find 7" there is no
more reason to suppose that the wise man has respect only
to his time, in these words, than in those immediately pre
ceding, " Counsel in the heart of a man is like deep
waters ; but a man of understanding will draw it out."
Or in the words next following, " The just man walketh
in his integrity : his children are blessed after him." Or
in any other proverb in the whole book. And if it were
so, that Solomon in these things meant only to describe
his own times, it would not at all weaken the argument.
For, if we observe the history of the Old Testament, there
is reason to think there never was any time from Joshua to
the captivity, wherein wickedness was more restrained,
and virtue and religion more encouraged and promoted,
than in David's and Solomon's times. And if there was so
little true piety in that nation, the only people of God
under heaven, even in their best times, what may we sup
pose, concerning the world in general, take one time with
another 7
Notwithstanding what some authors advance concern
ing the prevalence of virtue, honesty, good neighbourhood,
cheerfulness, &c. in the world ; Solomon, whom we may
justly esteem as wise and just an observer of human na
ture, and the state of the world of mankind, as most in
these days (besides, Christians ought to remember, that he
wrote by divine inspiration)— judged the world to be so
full of wickedness, that it was better never to be born, than
to be born to live only in such a world. Eccl. iv. 1 — 3.
" So I returned and considered all the oppressions that
are done under the sun ; and behold, the tears of such as
were oppressed, and they had no comforter : and on the
side of their oppressors there was power ; but they had no
comforter. Wherefore, I praised the dead, which were
already dead, more than the living, which are yet alive.
Yea, better is he than both they, which hath not yet been ;
who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun."
Surely it will not be said that Solomon has only respect to
his time here too, when he speaks of the oppressions of
them that were in power ; since he himself, and others ap
pointed by him, and wholly under his control, were the
men that were in power in that land, and in almost all the
neighbouring countries.
The same inspired writer says, Eccles. ix. 3. " The heart
of the sons of men is full of evil ; and madness is in their
heart while they live ; and after that they go to the dead."
If these general expressions are to be understood only of
some, and those the smaller part, when in general, truth,
honesty, good-nature, &}c. govern the world, why are such
general expressions from time to time used 7 "Why does
not this wise and noble prince express himself in a more
generous and benevolent strain, and say, wisdom is in the
hearts of the sons of men while they live, i}c. — instead of
leaving in his writings so many sly, ill-natured suggestions,
which pour such contempt on human nature, and tend so
much to excite mutual jealousy and malevolence, to taint
the minds of mankind through all generations after him ?
If we consider the various successive parts and periods
of the duration of the world, it will, if possible, be yet
more evident, that by far the greater part of mankind have,
in all ages, been of a wicked character. The short ac
counts we have of Adam and his family are such as lead
us to suppose, that the greater part of his posterity in his
life-time, yea, in the former part of his life, were wicked.
It appears, that his eldest son Cain, was a very wicked
* Levit. xvii. 7. Josh. v. 9. and xxiv. 14. Ezek. xx. 7. 8. and xxii. 3.
VOL. I. M

161
man, who slew his righteous brother Abel. And Adam
lived an hundred and thirty years before Seth was born :
and by that time, we may suppose, his posterity began to
be considerably numerous : when he was born, his mother
called his name Seth ; for God, said she, hath appointed me
another seed instead of' Abel. Which naturally suggests
this to our thoughts ; that of all her seed then existing,
none were of any such note for religion and virtue, as that
their parents could have any great comfort in them, or ex
pectation from them, on that account. And by the brief
history we have, it looks as if— however there might be
some intervals of a revival of religion, yet— in the general,
mankind grew more and more corrupt till the flood. It is
signified that when men began to multiply on the face of
the earth, wickedness prevailed exceedingly, Gen. vi'. 1, &c.
And that before God appeared to Noah, to command him
to build the ark, one hundred and twenty years before the
flood, the world had long continued obstinate in great and
general wickedness, and the disease was become inveterate.
The expressions (ver. 3, 5, 6.) suggest as much : "And the
Lord said, my spirit shall not always strive with man. — ¦
And God saw that the wickedness of man was great on the
earth, and that every imagination of the thought of his
heart was evil, only evil continually ; and it repented the
Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him
at his heart." And by that time, " all flesh had corrupted
his way upon the earth," (v. 12.) And as Dr. T. himself
observes, (p. 122.) " Mankind were universally debauched
into lust, sensuality, rapine, and injustice."
And with respect to the period after the flood, to the
calling of Abraham; Dr. T. says, as already observed,
that in about four hundred years after the flood, the gene
rality of mankind were fallen into idolatry ; which was
before all they were dead who came out of the ark . And
it cannot be thought, the world went suddenly into that
general and extreme degree of corruption, but that they
had been gradually growing more and more corrupt ;
though it is true, it must be by very swift degrees — however
soon we may suppose they began — to get to that pass in
one age.
And as to the period from the calling of Abraham to the
coming of Christ, Dr. T. justly observes ss follows : (Key,
p. 133.) "If we reckon from the call of Abraham to the
coming of Christ, the Jewish dispensation continued one
thousand nine hundred and twenty-one years; during
which period, the other families and nations of the earth,
not only lay out of God's peculiar kingdom, but also lived
in idolatry, great ignorance, and wickedness." And with
regard to the Israelites, it is evident that wickedness was
the generally prevailing character among them, from age to
age. If we consider how it was with Jacob's family, the
behaviour of Reuben with his father's concubine, the beha
viour of Judah with Tamar, the conduct of Jacob's sons
towards the Sliechemites, and the behaviour of Joseph's ten
brethren in their cruel treatment of him ; we cannot think,
that the character of true piety belonged to many of them,
according to Dr. T.'s own notion of such a character;
though it be true, they might afterwards repent. And with
respect to the time the children of Israel were in Egypt ;
the Scripture, speaking of them in general, or as a collec
tive bodv, often represents them as complying with the
abominable idolatries of the country.* And as to that
generation which went out of Egypt, and wandered in the
wilderness, they are abundantly represented as extremely
and almost universally wicked, perverse, and children of
divine wrath. And after Joshuas death, the Scripture is
very express, that wickedness was the prevailing character
in the nation, from age to age. So it was till Samuel's
time. (1 Sam. viii. 7, 8.) " They have rejected me, that I
should not reign over them ; according to all their works
which they have done, since the day that I brought them
out of Egypt, unto this day." Yea, so it was till Jere
miah's and Ezekiel's time. (Jer. xxxii. 30, 31.) " For the
children of Israel, and the children of Judah, have only
done evil before me from their youth ; for the children of
Israel have only provoked me to anger with the work of
their hands, saith the Lord : for this city hath been to me
a provocation of mine anger, and of my fury, from the day

162

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Cii. I.

they built it, even unto this day." (Compare chap. v. 21,
23. and chap. vii. 25, 26, 27.) So Ezek. ii. 3, 4. " I send
thee to the children of Israel, to a rebellious nation, that
hath rebelled against me, they and their fathers have trans
gressed against me, ecen unto this very day : for they are
impudent children, and stiff-hearted." And it appears by
the discourse of Stephen, (Acts vii.) that this was generally
the case with that nation, from their first rise, even to the
days of the apostles. After this summary rehearsal of the
instances of their perverseness from the very time of their
selling Joseph into Egypt, he concludes, (ver. 51 — 53.)
" Ye stiff-necked, and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye
do always resist the Holy Ghost. As your fathers did, so
do ye. Which of the prophets have not your fathers per
secuted 7 And they have slain them which showed be
fore ofthe coming of that just One, of whom ye have been
now the betrayers and murderers : who have received the
law by the disposition of angels, and have not kept it."
Thus it appears, that wickedness was the generally pre
vailing character in all nations, till Christ' came. And so
also it appears to have been since his coming to this day.
So in the age of apostles. There was a great number of
persons of a truly pious character in the latter part of the
apostolic age, when multitudes of converts had been made,
and Christianity was as yet in its primitive purity; but
what says the apostle John of the church of God at that
time, as compared with the rest of the world 7 (1 John v.
19.) " We know that we are of God, and the whole world
lieth in wickedness." And after that Christianity came to
prevail to that degree, that Christians had the upper hand
m nations and civil communities, still the greater part of
mankind remained in their old heathen state; which Dr.
T. speaks of as a state of great ignorance and wickedness.
And besides, this is noted in all ecclesiastical history, that
as the Christians gained in power and secular advantages,
true piety declined, and corruption and wickedness pre
vailed among them. — And as to the state of the Christian
world, since Christianity began to be established by human
laws, wickedness for the most part has greatly prevailed ;
as is very notorious, and is implied in what Dr. T. himself
says : In giving an account how the doctrine of original
sin came to prevail among Christians, he observes, (p. 167.
S.) " That the christian religion was very early and griev
ously corrupted, by dreaming, ignorant, superstitious
monks." In p. 259. he says, " The generality of Chris
tians have embraced this persuasion concerning original
sin ; and the consequence has been, that the generality of
Christians have been the most wicked, lewd, bloody, and
treacherous of all mankind."
Thus, a view of the several successive periods of the
past duration of the world, from the.beginning to this day,
shows, that wickedness has ever been exceeding prevalent,
and has had vastly the superiority in the world. And Dr. T.
himself in effect owns, that it has been so ever since Adam
first turned into the way of transgression. " It is certain
(says he, p. 168.) the moral circumstances of mankind, since
the time Adam first turned into the way of transgression,
have been very different from a state of innocence. So far
as we can judge from history, or what we know at pre
sent, the greatest part of mankind have been, and still are,
very corrupt ; though not equally so in every age and place."
And lower 1h the same page, he speaks of Adam's pos
terity, as having sunk themselves into the most lamentable
degrees of ignorance, superstition, idolatry, injustice, de
bauchery, eye.
These things clearly determine the point, concerning the
tendency of man's nature to wickedness, if we may be al
lowed to proceed according to such rules and methods of
reasoning, as are never denied or doubted to be good and
sure, in experimental philosophy ;* or may reason from ex
perience and facts, in that manner which common sense
leads all mankind to in other cases. If experience and
trial will evince any thing at all concerning the natural
disposition of the human heart, one would think the ex
perience of so many ages, as have elapsed since the be
ginning of the world, and the trial made by hundreds of
different nations together, for so long a time, should be
* Dr. Turnbull, though so great an enemy to the doctrine of the de
pravity of nature, yet greatly insists upon it. that the experimental method
of reasoning ought to be adopted in moral matters, and things pertaining to

sufficient to convince all, that wickedness is agreeable to
the nature of mankind in its present state.
Here, to strengthen the argument, if there were any need
of it, I might observe, not only the extent and generality
of the prevalence of wickedness in the world, but the
height to which it has risen, and the degree in which it has
reigned. Among innumerable things which confirm this, I
shall now only observe, The degree in which mankind
have from age to age been hurtful one to another. Many
kinds of brute animals are esteemed very noxious and de
structive, many of them very fierce, voracious, and many
very poisonous, and the destroying of them has always
been looked upon as a public benefit : but have not man
kind been a thousand times as hurtful and destructive as
any one of them, yea, as all the noxious beasts, birds,
fishes, and reptiles in the earth, air, and water, put together,
at least of all kinds of animals that are visible? And no
creature can be found any where so destructive of its own
kind as man is. All others, for the most part, are harm
less and peaceable, with regard to their own species. Where
one wolf is destroyed by another wolf, one viper by another,
probably a thousand men are destroyed by those of their
own species. Well therefore might our blessed Lord say,
when sending forth his disciples into the world, (Matt. x.
16, 17.) " Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst
of wolves ; — but, beware of men." Why do I say wolves?
I send you forth into the wide world of men, that are far
more hurtful and pernicious, and of whom you had much
more need to beware, than of wolves.
It would be strange indeed, that this should be the state
of mankind, distinguished by reason, for that very end,
that they might be capable of religion, which summarily
consists in love, if men, as they come into the world, are in
their nature innocent and harmless, undepraved, and per
fectly free from all evil propensities.

SECT. VIII.
The native depravity of mankind appears, in that there has
been so little good effect of so manifold and great means,
used to promote virtue in the world.
The evidence of the native corruption of mankind, ap
pears much more glaring, when it is considered that the
world has been so generally, so constantly, and so exceed
ingly corrupt, notwithstanding the various, great, and con
tinual means that have been used to restrain men from
sin, and promote virtue and true religion among them.
Dr. T. supposes, that sorrow and death, which come on
mankind in consequence of Adam's sin, was brought on
them in great favour ; as a benevolent father, exercising
an wholesome discipline towards his children ; to restrain
them from sin, by increasing the vanity of all earthly things,
to abate their force to tempt and delude ; to induce them to
be moderate in gratifying the appetites of the body; to
mortify pride and ambition ; and that men might always
have before their eyes a striking demonstration that sin is
infinitely hateful to God, by a sight of that, than which
nothing is more proper to give them the utmost abhorrence of
iniquity, and to fix in their minds a sense of the dreadful
consequences of sin, Sec. <yc. And in general, that they' do
not come as punishments, but purely as means to keep men
from vice, and to make them better. — If it be so, surely
they are great means. Here is a mighty alteration : man
kind, once so easy and happy, healthful, vigorous, and
beautiful, rich in all the pleasant and abundant blessings
of paradise, now turned out, destitute, weak, and decay
ing, into a wide barren world, yielding briers and thorns,
instead of the delightful growth and sweet fruit of the
garden of Eden, to wear out life in sorrow and toil, on the
ground cursed for his sake"; and at last, either through
long and lingering decay, or severe pain and acute disease,
to expire and turn into putrefaction and dust. If these are
only used as medicines, to prevent and to cure the diseases
of the mind, they are sharp medicines indeed ; especially
death ; which, to use Hezekiah's representation, is as it
the human nature ; and should chiefly be relied upon, in moral as well as
natural philosophy. See Introduc. to Mor. Phil.

Sect. VIII.

GREAT MEANS USED TO OPPOSE WICKEDNESS.

163

were breaking all his bones. And, one would think, should
be very effectual, if the subject had no depravity— no evil
and contrary bias, to resist, and hinder a proper effect —
especially in the old world, when the first occasion of this
terrible alteration, this severity of means, was fresh in
memory. Adam continued alive near two-thirds of the
time before the flood ; so that a very great part of those
who were alive till the flood, might have opportunity of
seeing and conversing with him, and hearing from his
mouth, not only an account of his fall, and the introduc
tion of the awful consequences of it, but also of his first
finding himself in existence in the new-created world, of
the creation of Eve,ai\d what passed between him and his
Creator in paradise.
But what was the success of these great means, to re
strain men from sin, and to induce them to virtue 7 Did
they prove sufficient 7— instead of this, the world soon grew
exceeding corrupt; till, to use our author's own words,
mankind were universally debauched into lust, sensuality,
rupine, and injustice.
Then God used further means : he sent Noah, a preacher
of righteousness, to warn the world of the universal de
struction which would come upon them by a flood of
waters, if they went on in sin. This warning he delivered
with circumstances tending to strike their minds, and com
mand their attention. He immediately went about build
ing that vast structure, the ark, in which he must employ
a great number of* hands, and probably spent all he had
in the world to save himself and his family. And under
these uncommon means God waited upon them one hun
dred and twenty years — But all to no effect. The whole
world, for ought appears, continued obstinate, and abso
lutely incorrigible : so that nothing remained to be done
with them, but utterly to destroy the inhabitants of the
earth ; and to begin a new world, from that single family
who had distinguished themselves by their virtue, that
from them might be propagated a new and purer race.
Accordingly, this was done : and the inhabitants of this new
world, Noah's posterity, had these new and extraordinary
means to restrain sin, and excite to virtue, in addition to
the toil, sorrow, and common mortality, which the world
had been subjected to before, in consequence of Adam's
sin ; viz. that God had newry testified his dreadful dis
pleasure for sin, in destroying the many millions of man
kind, all at one blow, old and young, men, women, and
children, without pity on any for all the dismal shrieks and
cries with which the world was filled. They themselves, the
remaining family, were wonderfully distinguished by God's
preserving goodness, that they might be a holy seed, being
delivered from the corrupting examples ofthe old world;
and being all the offspring of a living parent, whose pious
instructions and counsels they had, to enforce these things
upon them, to prevent sin, and engage them to their duty.
These inhabitants of the new earth, must, for a long time,
have before their eyes many evident and striking effects of
that universal destruction, to be a continual affecting ad
monition to them. And besides all this, God now shorten
ed the life of man to about one half of what it used to be.
The shortening man's life, Dr. T. says, (p. 68.) " Was that
the wild range of ambition and lust might be brought into
narrower bounds, and have less opportunity of doing mis
chief; and that death, being still nearer to our view, might
be a more powerful motive to regard less the things of a
transitory world, and to attend more to the rules of truth
and wisdom."
And now let us observe the consequence. — These new
and extraordinary means, in addition to the former, were so
far from proving sufficient, that the new world degenerated,'
and became corrupt, by such swift degrees, that as Dr. T.
observes, mankind in general were sunk into idolatry, in
about four hundred years after the flood, and so in about
fifty years after Noah's death, they became so wicked and
brutish, as to forsake the true God, and turn to the worship
of inanimate creatures.
When things were come to this dreadful pass, God was
pleased, for a remedy, to introduce a new and wonderful
dispensation — separating a particular family, and people,
from all the rest of the world, by a series of most astonish
ing miracles, done in the open view of the world ; and fix
ing their dwelling, as it were, in the midst of the earth,
m 2

between Asia, Europe, and Africa,a.r\d in the midst of those
nations which were most considerable for power, know
ledge, and arts — that might, in an extraordinary manner,
dwell among that people, in visible tokens of his presence.
There he manifested himself, and thence to the world, by
a course of miraculous operations and effects, for many
ages ; that the people might be holy to God, as a kingdom
of priests, and might stand as a city on a hill, to be a light
to the world. He also gradually shortened man's life, till
it was brought to about one-twelfth part of what it used
to be before the flood ; and so, according to Dr. T. greatly
diminishing his temptations to sin, and increasing his ex
citements to holiness  And now let us consider what
the success of these means was, both as to the Gentile
world, and the nation of Israel.
Dr. T.-justly observes, (Key, p. 24. § 75.) " The Jew
ish dispensation had respect to the nations of the world, to
spread the knowledge and obedience of God in the earth ;
and was established for the benefit of all mankind." — But
how unsuccessful were these means, and all other means
used with the heathen nations, so long as this dispensation
lasted ! Abraham was a person noted in all the principal
nations then in the world ; as in Egypt, and the eastern
monarchies. God made his name famous by his wonder
ful, distinguishing dispensations towards him, particularly
by so miraculously subduing, before him and his trained
servants, those armies of the four eastern kings. This
great work of the most high God, possessor of heaven
and earth, was greatly noticed by Melchizedcck ; and one
would think, should have been sufficient to awaken the
attention of all the nations in that part of the world, and
to lead them to the knowledge and worship of the only
true God ; especially if considered in conjunction with
that miraculous and most terrible destruction of Sodom,
and all the cities of the plain, for their wickedness, with
Lot's miraculous deliverance ; facts which doubtless in
their day were much famed abroad in the world. But
there is not the least appearance, in any accounts we
have, of any considerable good effect. On the contrary,
those nations which were most in the way of observing and
being affected with these things, even the nations of Ca
naan, grew worse and worse, till their iniquity came to the
full, in Joshua's time. And the posterity of Lot, that
saint so wonderfully distinguished, soon became some of
the most gross idolaters ; as they appear to have been in
Moses's time. (See Num. xxv.) Yea, and the far greater
part even of Abraham's posterity, the children of Ishmael,
Ziman, Joksham, Medun, Midian, Is/ibak and Sliuah, and
Esau, soon forgot the true God, and fell off to heathenism.
Great things were done in the sight of the nations, tend
ing to awaken them, and lead them to the knowledge and
obedience of the true God, in Jacob's and Joseph's time ;
in that God did miraculously, by the hand of Joseph,
preserve from perishing by famine, as it were the whole
world; as appears by Gen. xii. 56, 57. Agreeably to
which, the name that Pharaoh gave to Joseph, Zaphnalh-
Paaneah, as is said, in the Egyptian language, signifies
saviour qfihe world. But there does not appear to have
been any good abiding effect of this ; no, not so much as
among the Egyptians, the chief of all the heathen nations
at that day, who had these great works of Jehovah in their
most immediate view. On the contrary, they grew worse
and worse, and seem to be far more gross in their idolatries
and ignorance of the true God, and every way more wicked,
and ripe for ruin, when Moses was sent to Pharaoh, than
they were in Joseph's time.
After this, in Moses and Joshua's time, the great God
was pleased to manifest himself in a series of the most
astonishing miracles, for about fifty years together, wrought
in the most public manner, in Egypt, in the wilderness,
and in Canaan, in the view as it were of the whole world ;
miracles by which the world was shaken, the whole frame
of the visible creation, earth, seas, and rivers, the atmo
sphere, the clouds, sun, moon, and stars were affected ;
miracles, greatly tending to convince the nations of the
world, of the vanity of their false gods, showing Jehovah
to be infinitely above them, in the thing wherein they
dealt most proudly, and exhibiting God's awful displea
sure at the wickedness of the heathen world . And these
things are expressly spoken of as one end of these great

164

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

miracles. (Exod. ix. 14. Numb. xiv. 21. Josh. iv. 23,
24 ) However, no reformation followed, but by the scrip
ture account, the nations which had them most in view,
were dreadfully hardened, stupidly refusing all conviction
and reformation, and obstinately went on in opposition to
the living God, to their own destruction.
After this, God from time to time very publicly mani
fested himself to the nations of the world, by wonderful
works wrought in the time of the Judges, of a like ten
dency with those already mentioned. Particularly m so
miraculously destroying/by the hand of Gideon, almost
the whole of that va-t armv of the Midianites, Ama-
lekites, and all the children ofthe east, consisting of about
135,000 men. (Judg. vii. 12. and viii. 10.) But no re
formation followed this, or the pther great works of God,
wrought in the times of Deborah and Barak, Jeptha and
Samson .
After these things, God used new, and in some re
spects, much greater means with the heathen world, to
bring them to the knowledge and service of the true God,
in the davs of David and Solomon. He raised up David,
a man after his own heart, a most fervent worshipper of
the true God, and zealous hater of idols, and subdued be
fore him almost all the nations between Egypt and Eu
phrates; often miraculously assisting him in his battles
with his enemies. And he confirmed Solomon his son in
the full and quiet possession of that great empire, for
about forty years ; and made him the wisest, richest, most
magnificent,' and every way the greatest monarch that ever
had been in the world ; arid by far the most famous, and
of greatest name among the "nations; especially for his
wisdom, and tilings concerning the name of his God; par
ticularly the temple he built,' which was 'exceeding magni
ficent, that it might he of fame and glory throughout all
lands; 1 Chron. xxii. 5. ' And we are told, that there
came of all people to hear the wisdom of Solomon, from
all kings of the earth. (1 Kings iv. 34. and x. 24.) And
the Scripture informs us, that these great things were
done, that the nations in fur countries might hear of
God's great name, and of his out-stretched arm; that all
the people of the earth might fear him, us well as his people
Israel : anil that all the people of the earth might know,
that the Lord was God, and thai there was none else. (1
Kings viii. 41 — 43, 60.) But still there is no appearance
of any considerable abiding effect, with regard to any one
heathen nation.
After this, before the captivity in Babylon, many great
things were done in the sight of the gentile nations, very
much tending to enlighten, affect, and persuade them. As
God destroying the army of the Ethiopians of a thousand
thousand, before Asa ; Elijah's and Elisha's. miracles ;
especially Elijah miraculously confounding Baal's pro
phets and worshippers ; Elisha healing Nauman, the king
of Syria's prime minister, and the miraculous victories
obtained, through Elisha's prayers, over the Syrians, Mo-
abites, and Edomites ; the miraculous destruction of the
vast united army of the children of Moab, Ammon, and
Edom, a. Jehnshaphat's prayer. (2 Chron. xx.) Jonah's
preaching at Nineveh, together with the miracle of his de
liverance from the whale's belly ; which was published,
and well attested, as a sign to confirm his preaching : but
more especially that great work of God, in destroying
Sennacherib's army by an angel, for his contempt of the
God of Israel, as if he had been no more than the gods of
the heathen.
When all these things proved ineffectual, God took a
new method with the heathen world, and used, in some
respects, much greater means to convince and reclaim
them, than ever before. In the first place, his people, the
Jeivs, were removed to Babylon, the head and heart of the
heathen world, (Chaldea having been very much the foun
tain of idolatry,) to carry thither the revelations which God
had made of himself, contained in the sacred writings ;
and there to bear their testimony against idolatry ; as some
of them, particularly Daniel, Shadrach, Meshaclt, and
Abed-nego, did, in a very open manner before the king,
and the greatest men of the empire, with such circum
stances as made their testimony very famous in the world.
And God confirmed it with graat miracles; which were
published through the empire, by order of its monarch,

as the mighty works of the God of Israel, showing him
to be above all gods : Daniel, that great prophet, at the
same time being exalted to be governor of all the wise
men of Babylon, and one of the chief officers of Nebuchad
nezzar's court.
After this, God raised up Cyrus to destroy Babylon, for
its obstinate contempt of the true God, and injunousness
towards his people ; according to the prophecies of Isaiah,
speaking of him by name, instructing him concerning the
nature and dominion of the true God. (Isa. xiv.) Which
prophecies were probably shown to him, whereby he was
induced to publish his testimony concerning the God of
Israel, as the God. (Ezra i. 2, 3.-) Daniel, about the
same time, being advanced to be prime minister of state
in the new empire, erected under Darius, did in that
place appear openly as a worshipper of the God of Israel,
and him alone; God confirming his testimony for, him,
before the king and all the grandees of his kingdom, by
preserving him in the den of lions ; whereby Darius was
induced to publish to all people, nations, and languages,
that dwelt in all the earth, his testimony, that the God of
Israel was the living God, and sted fast, for ever, &c.
When, after the destruction of Babylon, some of the
Jews returned to their own land, multitudes never return
ed, but were dispersed abroad through many parts of the
vast Persian empire ; as appears by the book of Esther.
And many of them afterwards, as good histories inform
us, were removed into the more western parts of the world;
and so were dispersed as it were all over the heathen
world, having the Holy Scriptures with them, and syna
gogues every where, for the worship of the true God. And
so it continued to be, to the days of Christ and his apos
tles ; as appears by the Acts of the Apostles. Thus that
light, which God had given them, was carried abroad into
all parts of the world : so that now they had far greater
advantages to come to the knowledge of the truth, in mat
ters of religion, if they had been disposed to improve their
advantages. And besides all these things, from about Cyrus's time,
learning and philosophy increased, and was carried to a
great height. God raised up a number of men of prodi
gious genius, to instruct others, and improve their reason
and understanding, in the nature of things : and philoso
phic knowledge having gone on to increase for several ages,
seemed to be got to its height before Christ came, or about
that time.
And now let it be considered what was the effect of all
these things.— Instead of a reformation, or any appear
ance or prospect of it, the heathen world in general rather
grew worse. As Dr. Winder observes, " The inveterate
absurdities of pagan idolatry continued without remedy,
and increased as arts and learning increased ; and pa
ganism prevailed in all its height of absurdity, when
pagan nations were polished to the height, and in the
most polite cities and countries ; and thus continued to
the last breath of pagan power." And so it was with re
spect to wickedness in general, as well as idolatry; as ap
pears by what the apostle Paul observes in Rom. i.— Dr.
T. speaking of the time when the gospel-scheme was in
troduced, (Key, § 289.) says, " The moral and religious
state of the heathen was very deplorable, being generally
sunk into great ignorance, gross idolatry, and abominable
vice." Abominable vices prevailed, not only amon» the
common people, but even among their philosophers them
selves, yea, some of the chief of them, and of greatest
genius ; so Dr. T. himself observes, as to that detestable
vice of sodomy, which they commonly and openly al
lowed and practised without shame. (See Dr. T.'s note
on Rom. i. 27.)
Having thus considered the state of the heathen world,
with regard to the effect of means used for its reformation,
during the Jewish dispensation, from the first foundation
of it in A braham's time ; let us now consider how it was
with that people themselves, who were distinguished with
the peculiar privileges of tjiat dispensation. The means
used with the heathen nations were great; but they were
small, if compared with those used with the Israelile<-
The advantages by which that people were distinguished,
are represented in Scripture as vastly above all parallel, in
passages which Dr. T. takes notice of. (Key, § 54.) And

Sect. VIII.

GREAT MEANS USED TO OPPOSE WICKEDNESS.

165

he reckons these privileges among those which he calls ante
cedent blessings, consisting in motives to virtue and obedi
ence ; and says, (Key, § 66.) " That this was the very end
and design ofthe dispensation of God's extraordinary favours
to the Jtws, viz. to engage, them to duty and obedience, or
that it was a scheme for promoting virtue, is clear beyond
dispute, from every part of the Old Testament." Never
theless, the generality of that people, through all the suc
cessive periods of that dispensation, were men of a wicked
character. But it will be more abundantly manifest, how
strong the natural bias to iniquity appeared to be among
that people, by considering more particularly their con
dition from time to time.
Notwithstanding the, great tilings God had done in the
times of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to separate them and
then: posterity from the idolatrous world, that they might
be a holy people to himself ; yet in about two hundred
years after Jacob's death, and in less than one hundred and
fifty years after the death of Joseph, and while some were
alive who had seen Joseph, the people had in a great
measure lost the true religion, and were apace conforming
to the heathen world. For a remedy, and the more effec
tually to alienate them from idols, and engage them to the
God of their fathers, God appeared, in order to bring them
out from among the Egyptians, and separate them from
the heathen world, and to reveal himself in his glory and
majesty, in so affecting and astonishing a manner, as
tended most deeply and durably to impress their minds ;
that they might never forsake him any more. But so per
verse were they, that they murmured even in the midst of
the miracles that God wrought for them in Egypt, and
murmured at the Red sea, in a few days after God had
brought them out with such a mighty hand. When he
had led them through the sea, they sang his praise, but
soon forgat his works. Before they got to mount Sinai,
they openly manifested their perverseness from time
to time ; so that God says of them, Exod. xvi. 28. " How
long refuse ye to keep my commandments, and my laws ? "
Afterwards they murmured again at Rephidim.
In about two months after they came out of Egypt, they
came to mount Sinai ; where God entered into a most
solemn covenant with the people, that they should be an
holy people unto him, with such astonishing manifesta
tions of his power, majesty, and holiness, as were altogether
unparalleled. God puts the people in mind, (Deut. iv.
32 — 34.) " For ask now of the days that are past, which
were before thee, since the day that God created man upon
the earth ; and ask from one side of heaven unto the other,
whether there has been any such thing as this great thing is,
or hath been heard like it. Did ever people hear the voice
of God speaking out of the midst of the fire, as thou hast
heard, and live ? Or hath God assayed to take him a
nation from the midst of another nation ?" &c. And these
great things were in order to impress their minds with such
a conviction and sense of divine truth, and their obliga
tions, that they might never forget them ; as God says,
(Exod. xix. 9.) " Lo, I come unto thee in a thick cloud,
that the people may hear when I speak with thee, and be
lieve thee for ever." But what was the effect of all ? It
was not more than two or three months, before that people,
under that very mountain, returned to their old Egyptian
idolatry, and were singing and dancing before a golden
calf, which they had set up to worship. And after awful
manifestations of God's displeasure for that sin, and so
much done to bring them to repentance, and confirm them
in obedience, it was but a few months before they came to
that violence of spirit, in open rebellion against God, that
with the utmost vehemence they declared their resolution
to follow God no longer, but to make them a captain to
return into Egypt. And thus they went on in perverse
opposition to the Most High, from" time to time repeating
their open acts of rebellion, in the midst of continued
astonishing miracles, till that generation was destroyed.
And though the following generation seems to have been the
best that ever- was in Israel, yet- notwithstanding their
good example, and notwithstanding all the wonders of
God's power and love to that people in Joshua's time, how
soon did. that people degenerate, and begin to forsake God,
and join with the heathen in their idolatries, till God
by severe means, and by sending prophets and judges,

extraordinarily influenced from above, reclaimed them!
But when they were brought to some reformation by such
means, they soon fell away again into the practice of
idolatry ; and so from one age to another ; and nothing,
proved effectual for any abiding reformation.
After things had gone on thus for several hundred years,
God used new methods with his people, in two respects :
First, he raised up a great prophet, under whom a num
ber of young men were trained up in schools, that from
among them there might be a constant succession of great
prophets in Israel, of such as God should choose ; which
seems to have been continued for more than five hundred
years. Secondly, God raised up a great king, David, one
eminent for wisdom, piety, and fortitude, to subdue all
their heathen neighbours, who used to be such a snare to
them ; and to confirm, adorn, and perfect the institutions
of his public worship ; and by him to reveal more fully
the great salvation, and future glorious kingdom of the
Messiah. And after him was raised up his son, Solomon,
the wisest and greatest prince that ever was on earth, more
fully to settle and establish those things .which his father
David had begun, concerning the public worship of God
in Israel, and to build a glorious temple for the honour of
Jehovah, and the institutions of his worship, and to in
struct the neighbour nations in true wisdom and religion.
But what was the success of these new and extraordinary
means ? If we take Dr. T. for our expositor of Scripture,
the nation must be extremely corrupt in David's time ; for
he supposes he has respect to his own times, in those
words, Psal. xiv. 2, 3. " The Lord looked down from
heaven, to see if there were any that did understand, and
seek God ; they are all gone aside : they are together
become filthy ; there is none that doeth good ; no, not
one." But, whether Dr. T. be in the right in this, or not,
yet if we consider what appeared in Israel, in Absalom's
and Sheba's rebellion, we shall not see cause to think, that
the greater part of the nation at that day were men of true
wisdom and piety. As to Solomon's time, Dr. T. supposes,
as has been already observed, that Solomon speaks of his
own times, when he says, he had found but one in a thou
sand that was a thoroughly upright man.
However, it appears, that all those great means used to
promote and establish virtue and true religion, in Samuel's,
David's, and Solomon's times, were so far from having any
general abiding good effect in Israel, that Solomon himself,
with all his wisdom, and notwithstanding the unparalleled
favours of God to him, had his mind corrupted, so as
openly to tolerate idolatry in the land, and greatly to pro
voke God against him. And as soon as he was dead, ten
tribes of the twelve forsook the true worship of God, and
instead of it, openly established the like idolatry that the
people fell into at mount Sinai, when they made the golden
calf ; and continued fully obstinate in this apostacy, not
withstanding all means that could be used with them by
the prophets, whom God sent, one after another, to reprove,
counsel, and warn them, for about two hundred and fifty
years; especially those two great prophets, Elijah anil
Elisha. Of all the kings that reigned over them, there
was not so much as one but what was of a wicked cha
racter. And at last their case seemed utterly desperate ;
so that nothing remained to be done with them, but to re
move them out of God's sight. Thus the scripture repre
sents the matter, 2 Kings xvii.
And as to the other two tribes ; though their kings were
always of the family of David, and they were favoured in
many respects far beyond their brethren, yet they were
generally exceeding corrupt. Their kings were, most of
them, wicked men, and their other magistrates, and priests,
and people, were generally agreed in the corruption. Thus
the matter is represented in the scripture history, and the
books of the prophets. And when they had seen'how God
had cast off the ten tribes, instead of taking warning, they
made themselves vastlv more vile than ever the others had
done. 2 Kings xvii. 18, 19. Ezek. xvi. 46, 47, 51. God
indeed waited longer upon them, for his servant David's
sake, and for Jerusalem s sake, that he had chosen ; and
used more extraordinary means with them ; especially by
those great prophets, Isaiah and Jeremiah, but to no effect :
so that at last, as the prophets represent the matter, they
were like a body universally and desperately diseased anil

166

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

corrupted, that would admit of no cure, the whole head
sick, and the whole heart faint, &c.
Things being come to that pass, God took this method
with them ; he utterly destroyed their city and land, and
the temple which he had among them, made thorough
work in purging the land of them ; as when a man empties
a dish, wipes it, and turns it upside down ; or when a vessel
is cast into a fierce fire, till its filthiness is thoroughly burnt
out. (2 Kings xxi. 13. Ezek. chap, xxiv.) They were
carried into captivity, and there left, till that wicked gene
ration was dead, and those old rebels were purged out ;
that afterwards the land might be resettled with a more
pure generation.
After the return from the captivity, and God had built
the Jewish church again in their own land, by a series of
wonderful providences ; yet they corrupted themselves
again, to so great a degree, that the transgressors were
come to the full again in the days of Antiochus Epiphanes ;
as the matter is represented in the prophecy of Daniel.
(Dan. viii. 23.) And then God made them the subjects of
a dispensation, little, if any thing, less terrible, than that
which had been in Nebuchadnezzar's days. And after
God had again delivered them, and restored the state of
religion among them, by the instrumentality of the Mac
cabees, they degenerated again : so that when Christ came,
they were arrived to that extreme degree of corruption,
which is represented in the accounts given by the evan
gelists. It may be observed here in general, that the Jews,
though so vastly distinguished with advantages, means,
and motives to holiness, yet are represented, from time to
time, as more -wicked in the sight of God, than the very
worst of the heathen. As, of old, God sware by his life,
that the wickedness of Sodom was small, compared with
that of the Jews ; (Ezek. xvi. 47, 48, &c. also chap. v.
5 — 10.) So, Christ speaking of the Jews, in his time,
represents them as having much greater guilt than the in
habitants of Tyre and Sydon, or even Sodom and Go
morrah. But we are now come to the time when the grandest
scene was displayed that ever was opened on earth. After
all other schemes had been so long and so thoroughly tried,
and had so greatly failed of success, both among Jews
and Gentiles ; that wonderful dispensation was at length
introduced — the greatest scheme for suppressing and re
straining iniquity among mankind, that ever infinite wis
dom and mercy contrived — even the glorious gospel of
Jesus Christ. " A new dispensation of grace was erected
(to use Dr. T.'s own words, p. 239, 240.) for the more
certain and effectual sanctification of mankind, into the
image of God ; delivering them from the sin and wicked
ness, into which they might fall, or were already fallen ;
to redeem them from all iniquity, and bring them to the
knowledge and obedience of God." In whatever high
and exalted terms the Scripture speaks of the means and
motives which the Jews enjoyed of old ; yet their privi
leges are represented as having no glory, in comparison of
the advantages of the gospel. Dr. T.'s words (p. 233.)
are worthy to be here repeated. " Even the heathen
(says he) knew God, and might have glorified him as
God ; but under the glorious light of the gospel, we have
very clear ideas of the divine perfections, and particularly
of the love of God as our Father, and as the God and
Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. We see
our duty in the utmost extent, and the most cogent rea
sons to perform it : we have eternity opened to us, even
an endless state of honour and felicity, the reward of vir
tuous actions; and the Spirit of God promised for our
direction and assistance. And all this may and ought to
be applied to the purifying of our minds, and the perfect
ing of holiness. And to these happy advantages we are
born; for which we are bound for ever to praise and
magnify the rich grace of God in the Redeemer." And
he elsewhere says,* " The gospel-constitution is a scheme
the most perfect and effectual for restoring true religion,
and promoting virtue and happiness, that ever the world
has yet seen." And f admirably adapted to enlighten our
minds, and sanctify our hearts. And J never were motives

' Key, § 167,

t Note on Rom. i. 16.

so divine and powerful proposed, to induce us to the practice
of alt virtue and goodness.
And yet even ihese means have been ineffectual upon
the far greater part of them with whom they have been
used ; of the many that have been called, few have been
chosen. As to the Jews, God's ancient people, with whom they
were used in the first place, and used long by Christ and
his apostles, the generality of them rejected Christ and his
gospel, with extreme pertinacity of spirit. They not only
went on still in that career of corruption which had been
increasing from the time of the Maccabees ; but Christ's
coming, his doctrine and miracles, the preaching of his
followers, and the glorious things that attended the same,
were the occasion, uirough their perverse misimprovement,
of an infinite increase of their wickedness. They crucified
the Lord of glory, with the utmost malice and cruelty,
and persecuted his followers ; they pleased not God, and
were contrary to all men ; they went on to grow worse
and worse, till they filled up the measure of their sin, and
wrath came upon them to the uttermost ; and they were
destroyed, and cast out of God's sight, with unspeakably
greater tokens of the divine abhorrence and indignation,
than in the days of Nebuchadnezzar. The greater part of
the whole nation were slain, and the rest were scattered
abroad through the earth in the most abject and forlorn
circumstances. And in the same spirit of unbelief and
malice against Christ and the gospel, and in their miser
able dispersed circumstances, do they remain to this day.
And as to the gentile nations, though there was a glori
ous success of the gospel amongst them, in the apostles'
days ; yet probably not one in ten of those that had the
gospel preached to them embraced it. The powers of the
world were set against it, and persecuted it with insatiable
malignity. And among the professors of Christianity,
there presently appeared in many a disposition to abuse
the gospel to the service of pride and licentiousness. The
apostles foretold a grand apostacy of the christian world,
which should continue many ages ; and observed, that
there appeared a disposition to such an apostacy, among
professing Christians, even in that day. (2 Thess. ii. 7.)
The greater part of the ages now elapsed, have been spent
in that grand and general apostacy, under which the chris
tian world, as it is called, has been transformed into what
has been vastly more dishonourable and hateful to God,
and repugnant to true virtue, than the state of the heathen
world before : which is agreeable to the prophetical de
scriptions given of it by the Holy Spirit.
In these latter ages of the christian church, God has
raised up a number of great and good men, to bear testi
mony against the corruptions of the church of Rome, and
by their means introduced that light into the world, by
which, in a short time, at least one-third part of Europe
was delivered from the more gross enormities of Anti
christ : which was attended at first with a great reforma
tion, as to vital and practical religion. But how is the
gold become dim ! To what a pass are things come in
protestant countries at this day, and in our nation in par
ticular ! To what a prodigious height has a deluge of in
fidelity, profaneness, luxury, debauchery, and wickedness
of every kind, arisen ! The poor savage Americans are
mere babes, if I may so speak, as to proficiency in wick
edness, in comparison of multitudes in the christian world.
Dr. T. himself, as before observed, represents, that the
generality of Christians have been the most wicked, lewd,
bloody, and treacherous of all mankind; and (Key,§ 388.)
that " The wickedness of the christian world renders it so
much like the heathen, that the good effects of our change
to Christianity are but little seen."
With respect to the dreadful corruption of the present
day, it is to be considered, besides the advantages already
mentioned, that great advances in learning and philosophic
knowledge have been made in the present and past cen
tury ; affording great advantage for a proper and enlarged
exercise of our rational powers, and for our seeing the
bright manifestation of God's perfections in his works.
And it is to be observed, that the means and inducements
to virtue, which this age enjoys, are in addition to most of
I Pref. to Par. on Rom. p. 145. 47

Sect. VIII.

GREAT MEANS USED TO OPPOSE WICKEDNESS.

167

those which were mentioned before, as given of old ; and
among other things, in addition to the shortening of man's
life to 70 or 80 years, from near a thousand. And, with
regard to this, I would observe, that as the case now
stands in Christendom, take one with another of those
who ever come to years of discretion, their life is not
more than forty or forty-five years ; which is but about
the twentieth part of what it once was : and not so much
in great cities, places where profaneness, sensuality, and
debauchery, commonly prevail to the greatest degree.
Dr. T. ^Key, § 1.) truly observes, That God has from
the beginning exercised wonderful and infinite wisdom, in
the methods he has, from age to age, made use of to op
pose vice, cure corruption, and promote virtue in trie
world ; and introduced several schemes to that end. It
is indeed remarkable, how many schemes and methods
were tried of old, both before arid after the flood ; how
many were used in the times of the Old Testament, both
with' Jews and heathens, and how ineffectual all these
ancient methods proved, for 4000 years together, till God
introduced that grand dispensation, for redeeming men
from all iniquity, and purifying them to himself, a people
zealous of good works ; which the Scripture represents as
the subject of the admiration of angels. But even this
has now so long proved ineffectual, with respect to the
generality, that Dr. T. thinks there is need of a new dis
pensation ; the present light of the gospel being insufficient
for the full reformation of the christian world, by reason
of its corruptions : (Note on Rom. i. 27.)— Arid yet all
these things, according to him, without any natural bias to
the contrary ; no stream of natural inclination or propen
sity at all, to oppose inducements to goodness ; no native
opposition of heart, to withstand those gracious means,
which God has ever used with mankind, from the begin
ning of the world to this day ; any more than there was
in the heart of Adam, the moment God created him in
perfect innocence.
Surely Dr. T.'s scheme is attended with strange para
doxes. And that his mysterious tenets may appear in a
true light, it must be observed that — at the same time he
supposes these means, even the very greatest and best of
them, to have proved so ineffectual, that help from them,
as to any general reformation, is to be despaired of— that
he maintains all mankind, even the heathen in all parts of
the world, yea, every single person in it, (which must in
clude every Indian in America, before the Europeans came
hither ; and every inhabitant of the unknown parts of
Africa and Terra Australis,) has ability, light, and means
sufficient to do their whole duty ; yea, many passages in
his writings plainly suppose, to perform perfect obedience
to God's law, without the least degree of vice or iniquity.*
But I must not omit to observe, that Dr. T. supposes,
the reason why the gospel-dispensation has been so inef
fectual, is, that it has been greatly misunderstood and
perverted. In his Key, (§ 389.) he says, "Wrong repre
sentations of the scheme of the gospel have greatly ob
scured the glory of divine grace, and contributed much
to the corruption of its professors. — Such doctrines have
been almost universally taught and received, as quite
subvert it. Mistaken notions about nature, grace, election
and reprobation, justification, regeneration, redemption,
calling, adoption, &c. have quite taken away the very
ground of the christian life."
But how came the gospel to be so universally and ex
ceedingly misunderstood 7 Is it because it is in itself so
very dark and unintelligible, and not adapted to the ap
prehension of the human faculties? If so, how is the
possession of such an obscure and unintelligible thing, so
glorious an advantage 7 — Or is it because of the native
blindness, corruption, and superstition of mankind ? But
this is giving up the thing in question, and allowing a
great depravity of nature. Dr. T. speaks of the gospel
as far otherwise than dark and unintelligible ; he repre
sents it as exhibiting the clearest and most glorious light,
calculated to deliver the world from darkness, and to
brin» them into marvellous light. He speaks of the light
which the Jews had, under the Mosaic dispensation, as
vastly exceeding the light of nature, which the heathen
* See p. 259. 63, 64, 72. S.

enjoyed ; and yet he supposes that even the latter was so
clear, as to be sufficient to lead men to the knowledge of
God, and their whole duty to him. He speaks of the
light of the gospel as vastly exceeding the light of the
Oid Testament ; and says of the apostle Paul in particu
lar, " That he wrote with great perspicuity ; that he takes
great care to explain every part of his subject ; that he
has left no part of it unexplained and unguarded ; and
that never was an author more exact and cautious in this."f
Is it not strange, therefore, that the Christian world, with
out any native depravity, should be so blind in the midst
of such glaring light, as to be all, or the generality, agreed,
frOm age to age, so essentially to misunderstand that which
is made so very plain ?
Dr. T. says, (p. 167. S.) " It is my persuasion, that the
christian religion was very early and grievously corrupted,
by dreaming, ignorant, superstitious monks, too conceited
to be satisfied .with the plain gospel ; and has long re
mained in that deplorable state."  But how came the
whole christian world, without any blinding depravity, to
hearken to these ignorant foolish men, rather than unto
wiser and better teachers ? especially, when the latter had
plain gospel on their side, and the doctrines of the other
were (as our author supposes) so very contrary not only to
the plain gospel, but to men's reason and common sense 7
or were all the teachers of the Christian church nothing
but a parcel of ignorant dreamers ? If so, this is very
strange indeed, unless mankind naturally love darkness
rather than light; seeing in all parts of the christian
world, there was a great multitude in the work of the
ministry, who had the gospel in their hands, and whose
whole business it was to study and teach it ; and therefore
had infinitely greater advantages to become truly wise,
than the heathen philosophers. But if, by some strange
and inconceivable means, notwithstanding all these glo
rious advantages, all the teachers of the christian church
through the world, without any native evil propensity,
very early became silly dreamers — and also in their dream
ing, generally stumbled on the same individual monstrous
opinions, and so the world might be blinded for a while
— yet, why did not they hearken to that wise and great
man, Pelagius, and others like him, when he plainly held
forth the truth to the christian world ? Especially seeing
his instructions were so agreeable to the plain doctrines,
and the bright and clear light of the gospel of Christ, and
also so agreeable to the plainest dictates of the common
sense and understanding of all mankind ; but the other
so repugnant to it, that Caccording to our author) if they
were true, it would prove understanding to be no under
standing, and the word of God to be no rule of truth, nor
at all to be relied upon, and God to be a Being worthy of
no regard?
Besides, if the inefficacy of the gospel to restrain sin
and promote virtue, be owing to the general prevalence of
these doctrines, which are supposed to be so absurd and
contrary to the gospel, here is this further to be accounted
for ; namely, Why, since there has been so great an in
crease of light in religious matters (as must be supposed
on Dr. T.'s scheme) in this and the last age, ana these
monstrous doctrines of original sin, election, reprobation,
justification, regeneration, &c. have beeu so much ex
ploded, especially in our nation, there has been no refor
mation attending this great advancement of light and
truth : but on the contrary, vice, and every thing opposite
to practical Christianity, has gone on to increase, with
such a prodigious celerity, as to become like an overflow
ing deluge ; threatening, unless God mercifully interposes,
speedily to swallow up all that is virtuous and praiseworthy.
Many other things might have been mentioned under
this head — the means which mankind have had to restrain
vice, and promote virtue — such as wickedness being many
ways contrary to men's temporal interest and comfort, and
their having continually before their eyes so many instances
of persons made miserable by their vices ; the restraints
of human laws, without which men cannot live in society;
the judgments of God brought on men for their wicked
ness, with which history abounds, and the providential
rewards of virtue ; and innumerable particular means,
t Prcf. to Par, on Rom. p. 1-16. 48.

168

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

that God has used from age to age to curb the wickedness
of mankind, which I have omitted. But there would be
no end of a particular enumeration of such things. They
that will not be convinced by the instances which have
been mentioned, probably would not be convinced, if the
world had stood a thousand times so long, and we had the
most authentic and certain accounts of means having been
used from the begipning, in a thousand times greater
variety; and new dispensations had been introduced, after
others had been tried in vain, ever so often, and still to
little effect. He that will not be convinced by a thousand
good witnesses, it is not likely that he would be convinced
by a thousand thousand.
The proofs that have been extant in the world, from
trial and fact, of the depravity of man's nature, are inex
pressible, and as it were infinite, beyond the representation
of all similitude. If there were a piece of ground which
abounded with briers and thorns, or some poisonous plant,
and all mankind had used their endeavours, for a thousand
years together, to suppress that evil growth — and to bring
that ground by manure and cultivation, planting and sow
ing, to produce belter fruit, all in vain ; it would still be
overrun with the same noxious growth — it would not be a
proof, that such a produce was agreeable to the nature of
that soil, in any wise to be compared to that which is
given in divine providence, that wickedness is a produce
agreeable to the nature of the field of the world of man
kind. For the means used with it have been various, great,
and wonderful, contrived by the unsearchable and bound
less wisdom of God ; medicines procured with infinite
expense, exhibited with a vast apparatus ; a marvellous
succession of dispensations, introduced one after another,
displaying an incomprehensible length and breadth, depth
and height, of divine wisdom, love, and power, and every
perfection of the godhead, to the eternal admiration of
principalities and powers in heavenly places.

SECT. IX.
Several evasions of the arguments for the depravity of na
ture, from trial and events considered.
Evasion I. Dr. T. savs, (p. 231, 232.) " Adam's nature,
it is allowed, was very far from being sinful ; yet he sinned.
And therefore, the common doctrine of Original Sin, is no
more necessary to account for the sin that has been or is
in the world, than it is to account for Adam's sin."* Again,
(p. 52 — 54. S. &c.) " If we allow mankind to be as
wicked as R. R. has represented them to be ; and suppose
that there is not one upon earth that is truly righteous, and
without sin, and that some are very enormous sinners, yet
it will not thence follow, that they are naturally corrupt. —
For, if sinful action infers a nature originally corrupt, then,
whereas Adam (according to them that hold the doctrine
of Original Sin) committed the most heinous and aggra
vated sin, that ever was committed in the world ; for, ac
cording to them, he had greater light than any other man
in the world, to know his duty, and greater power than any
other man to fulfil it, and was under greater obligations
than any other man to obedience ; he sinned, when he
knew he was the representative of millions, and that the
happy or miserable state of all mankind, depended on his
conduct ; which never was, nor can be, the case of any
other man in the world : — then, I say, it will follow, that
his nature was originally corrupt, &c. — Thus their argu
ment from the wickedness of mankind, to prove a sinful
and corrupt nature, must inevitably and irrecoverably fall
to the ground. — Which will appear more abundantly, if
we take in the case of the angels, who in numbers sinned,
and kept not their first estate, though created with a nature
superior to Adam's." Again, (p. 145. S.) " When it is
inquired, how it comes to pass that our appetites and pas
sions are now so irregular and strong, as that not one per
son has resisted them, so as to keep himself pure and
innocent ? If this be the case, if such as make the inquiry
will tell the world, how it came to pass that Adam's ap
petites and passions were so irregular and strong, that he

did not resist them, so as to keep himself pure and inno
cent, when upon their principles he was far more able to
have resisted them ; I also will tell them how it comes to
pass, that his posterity does not resist them.+ Sin doth
not alter its nature, by its being general ; and therefore
how far soever it spreads, it must come upon all just as it
came upon Adam."
These things are delivered with much assurance. But
is there any reason in such a way of talking 7 One thing
implied in it, and the main thing, if any at all to the pur
pose, is, that because an effect being general, does not
alter the nature of the effect, therefore nothing more can
be argued concerning the cause, from its happening con
stantly, and in the most steady manner, than from its hap
pening but once. But how contrary is this to reason !
Suppose a person, through the deceitful persuasions of a
pretended friend, once takes a poisonous draught of a
liquor to which he had before no inclination ; but after he
has once taken of it, he is observed to act as one that has
an insatiable, incurable thirst after more of the same, in
his constant practice, obstinately continued in as long as
he lives, against all pqssible arguments and endeavours
used to dissuade him from it. And suppose we should
from hence argue a fixed inclination, and begin to suspect
that this is the nature and operation of the poison, to pro
duce such an inclination, or that this strong propensity is
some way the consequence of the first draught. In such a
case, could it be said with good reason, that a fixed pro
pensity can no more be argued from his consequent con
stant practice, than from his first draught 7 Or, suppose
a young man, soberly inclined, enticed by wicked com
panions, should drink"to excess, until he had got a habit
of excessive drinking, and should come under the power
of a greedy appetite after strong drink, so that drunkenness
should become a common and constant practice with him :
and suppose an observer, arguing from this general prac
tice, should say, " It must needs be that this young man
has a fixed inclination to that sin ; otherwise, how should
it come to pass that he should make such a trade of it ?"
And another, ridiculing the weakness of his arguing, should
reply, " Do you tell me how it came to pass, that he was
guil'tv of that sin the first time, without a fixed inclination,
and I will tell you how he is guilty of it so generally with
out a fixed inclination. Sin does not alter its nature by
being general : and therefore, how common soever it be
comes, it must come at all times by the same means
that it came at first." I leave it to every one to judge,
who would be chargeable with weak arguing in such a
case. It is true, there is no effect without some cause, ground,
or reason of that effect, and some cause answerable to the
effect. But certainly it will not follow, that a transient
effect requires a permanent cause, or a fixed propensity.
An effect happening once, though great, yea, though it
may come to pass on the same occasion in many subjects
at the same time, will not prove any fixed propensity, or
permanent influence. It is true, it proves an influence
great and extensive, answerable to the effect, once exerted,
or once effectual ; but it proves nothing in the cause fired
or constant. If a particular tree, or a great number of
trees standing together, have blasted fruit on their branches
at a particular season — or if the fruit be very much blasted,
and entirely spoiled — it is evident that something was the
occasion of such an effect at that time ; but this alone does
not prove the nature of the tree to be bad. But if it be
observed, that those trees, and all other trees of the kind,
wherever planted, and in all soils, countries, climates, and
seasons, and however cultivated and managed, still bear
ill fruit, from year to year, and in all ages, it is a good
evidence of the evil nature of the tree. And if the fruit,
at all these times, and in all these cases, be very bad, it
proves the nature of the tree to be very bad. If we argue,
in like manner, from what appears among men, it is easy
to determine, whether the universal sinfulness of mankind —
all sinning immediately, as soon as capable of it, and con
tinually and generally being of a wicked character, at all
times, in all ages, in all places, and under all possible cir
cumstances, against means and motives inexpressibly mani-
t See p. 81. note.

.Sect. IX.

SEVERAL EVASIONS CONSIDERED.

109

fold and great, and in the utmost conceivable variety — be
from a permanent internal great cause.
If the voice of common sense were heard, there would
be no occasion for labour in multiplying arguments to
show, that one act does not prove a fixed inclination ; but
that constant pursuit does. We see that, in fact, it is
agreeable to the reason of all mankind, to argue fixed prin
ciples, tempers, and prevailing inclinations, from repeated
and continued actions— though the actions are voluntary,
and performed of choice — and thus to judge of the tem
pers and inclinations of persons, ages, sexes, tribes, and
nations. But is it the manner of men to conclude, that
whatever they see others once do, they have a fixed abid
ing inclination to do ? Yea, there may be several acts seen,
and yet not be taken as good evidence of an established
propensity ; even though that one act, or those several acts,
are followed by such constant practice, as afterwards evi
dences fixed disposition. As for example ; there may be
several instances of a man drinking some spirituous liquor,
and those instances be no sign of a fixed inclination to that
liquor ; but these acts may be introductory to a settled
habit or propensity, which may be made very manifest
afterwards by constant practice.
From these things it is plain, that what is alleged con
cerning the first sin of Adam, and of the angels, without a
previous fixed disposition to sin, cannot in the least
weaken the arguments brought to prove a fixed propensity
to sin in mankind, in their present state. From the per
manence of the cause has been argued, the permanence of
the effect. And that the permanent cause consists in an
internal fixed propensity, and not in any particular external
circumstances, has been argued from the effects being the
same, through a vast variety and change of circumstances.
But the first acts of sin in Adam or the angels, considered
in themselves, were no permanent, continued effects. And
though a great number of the angels sinned, and the effect
on that account was the greater, and more extensive ; yet
this extent of the effect is a very different thing from that
permanence, or settled continuance of effect, which is sup
posed to show a permanent cause, or fixed propensity.
Neither was there any trial of a vast variety of circum
stances attending a permanent effect, to show the fixed
cause to be internal, consisting in a settled disposition of
nature, in the instances objected. And however great the
sin of Adam, or of the angels, was, and however great the
means, motives, and obligations were against which they
sinned — and whatever may be thence argued concerning
the transient cause, occasion, or temptation, as being very
subtle, remarkably tending to deceive and seduce, &c. —
yet it argues nothing of any settled disposition, or fixed
cause, either great or small; the effect both in the angels
and our first parents, being in itself transient, and, for
ought appears, happening in each of them under one sys
tem or coincidence of influential circumstances.*
The general continued wickedness of mankind, against
such means and motives, proves each of these things, viz.
that the cause is fixed, and that the fixed cause is internal
in man's nature, and also that it is very powerful. It
proves, that the cause is fixed, because the effect is so
abiding, through so many changes. It proves that the
fixed cause is internal, because the circumstances are so
various — including a variety of means and motives — and
they are such circumstances as cannot possibly cause the
effect, being most opposite to it in their tendency, And it
proves the greatness of the internal cause ; or that the pro
pensity is powerful ; because the means which have op
posed its influence, have been so great, and yet have been
statedly overcome.
But here I may observe, by the way, that with regard to
the motives and obligations against which our first father
sinned, it is not reasonably alleged, that he sinned when
he knew his sin would have destructive consequences to
all his posterity, and might in process of time, pave the
whole globe with skulls, &c. It is evident, by the plain
account the scripture gives us of the temptation which
prevailed with our first parents to commit that sin, that it
was so contrived by the subtlety of the tempter, as first to
blind and deceive them as to that matter, and to make them
# See p. 81. note.

believe that their disobedience should be followed with no
destruction or calamity at all to themselves, (and therefore
not to their posterity,)' but on the contrary, with a great in
crease and advancement of dignity and happiness.
Evasion II. Let the wickedness of the world be ever so
general and great, there is no necessity of supposing any
depravity of nature to be the cause : man's own free will
is cause sufficient. Let mankind be more or less corrupt,
they make themselves corrupt by their own free choice.
This Dr. T. abundantly insists upon, in many parts of his
book, f
But I would ask, how it comes to pass that mankind so
universally agree in this evil exercise of their free will ? If
their wills are in the first place as free to good as to evil,
what is it to be ascribed to, that the world of mankind,
consisting of so many millions, in so many successive
generations, without consultation, all agree to exercise
their freedom in favour of evil ? If there be no natural ten
dency or preponderation in the case, then there is as good
a chance for the will being determined to good as to evil.
If the cause be indifferent, why is not the effect in some
measure indifferent 7 If the balance be no heavier at one
end than the other, why does it perpetually preponderate
one way ? How comes it to pass, that the free will of
mankind has been determined to evil, in like manner be
fore the flood and after the flood ; under the law and
under the gospel ; among both Jews and Gentiles, under
the Old Testament, and since then, among Christians,
Jews, Mahometans ; among papists and protestants ; in
those nations where civility, politeness, arts, and learning
most prevail, and among the Negroes and Hottentots in
Africa, the Tartars in Asia, and Indians in America, to
wards both the poles, and on every side of the globe ; in
greatest cities and obscurest villages ; in palaces and in
huts, wigwams, and cells under ground 7 Is it enough to
reply, It happens so, that men every where, and in all times,
choose thus to determine their own wills, and so to make
themselves sinful, as soon as ever they are capable of it,
and to sin constantly as long as they live, and universally
to choose never to come up halfway to their duty ?
A steady effect requires a steady cause; but free will,
without any previous propensity to influence its determina
tions, is no permanent cause ; nothing can be conceived of,
farther from it ; for the very notion of freedom of will, con
sisting in self-determining power, implies contingence ; and
if the will is perfectly free from any government of pre
vious inclination, its freedom must imply the most absolute
and perfect contingence : and surely nothing can be con
ceived of, more unfixed than that. The notion of liberty
of will, in this sense, implies perfect freedom from every
thing that should previously fix, bind, or determine it; that
it may be left to be fixed and determined wholly by itself:
therefore its determinations must be previously altogether
unfixed. And can that which is so unfixed, so contingent,
be a cause sufficient to account for an effect, in such a
manner, and to such a degree, permanent, fixed, and con
stant? When we see any person going on in a certain course
with great constancy, against all manner of means to dis
suade him, do we judge this to be no argument of a fixed
disposition of mind, because, being free, he may determine
to do so, if he will, without any such disposition ? Or if
we see a nation, or people, that differ greatly from other
nations, in such and such instances of their constant con
duct—as though their tempers and inclinations were very
diverse — and any should say, We cannot judge at all of
the temper or disposition of people, by any thing observ
able in their constant practice or behaviour, because they
have all free will, and therefore may all choose to act so, if
they please, without any thing in their temper or inclination
to bias them. Would such an account of such effects be
satisfying to the reason of mankind ? But infinitely further
would it be from satisfying a considerate mind, to account
for the constant and universal sinfulness of mankind, by
saying, that their will is free, and therefore all may, if they
please, make themselves wicked : they are free when they
first begin to act as moral agents,and therefore all may, if they
please, begin to sin as soon as they begin to act : they are
t Page 257, 258. 52, 53. S. and many other places.

170

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. I. Ch. I.

free as long as they continue to act in the world, and there
fore they may all commit sin continually, if they will :
men of all nations are free, and therefore all nations may
act alike in these respects, if they please, though some do
not know how other nations do act. Men of high and low
condition, learned and ignorant, are free, and therefore they
may agree in acting wickedly, if they please, though they
do not consult together. Men in all ages are free, and
therefore men in one age may all agree with men in every
other age in wickedness, if they please, though they do not
know how men in other ages have acted, &c. Let every
one judge whether such an account of things can satisfy
reason. Evasion III. It is said by many opposers of the doctrine
of original sin, that the corruption of mankind may be
owing not to a depraved nature, but to bad example. And
I think we must understand Dr. T. as having respect to
the powerful influence of bad instruction and example,
when he says, (p. 118.) " The Gentiles in their heathen
state, when incorporated into the body of the gentile world,
were without strength, unable to help or recover them
selves." And in several other places to the like purpose.
If there was no depravity of nature, what else could there
be but bad instruction and example, to hinder the heathen
world, as a collective body, (for as such Dr. T. speaks of
them, as may be seen p. 117, 118.) from emerging out of
their corruption, on the rise of each new generation ? As to
their bad instruction, our author insists upon it, that the
heathen, notwithstanding all their disadvantages, had suf
ficient light to know God, and do their whole duty. There
fore it must be chiefly bad example, according to him,
that rendered their case helpless.
Now concerning this way of accounting for the corrup
tion of the world, by the influence of bad example, I would
observe, 1. It is accounting for the thing by the thing itself. It
is accounting for the corruption of the world by the cor
ruption of the world. For, that bad examples are general
all over the world to be followed by others, and have been
so from the beginning, is only an instance, or rather a de
scription, of that corruption of the world which is to be ac
counted for. If mankind are naturally no more inclined
to evil than good, then how come there to be so many
more bad examples than good ones, in all ages 7 And if
there are not, how come the bad examples that are set, to
be so much more followed than the good ? If the propen
sity of man's nature be not to evil, how comes the current
of general example, every where, and at all times, to be so
much to evil ? And when opposition has been made by
good examples, how comes it to pass that it has had so
little effect to stem the stream of general wicked practice ?
I think from the brief account the Scripture gives us of
the behaviour of our first parents, and of the expressions
of their faith and hope in God's revealed mercy, we have
reason to suppose, that before ever they had any children,
they repented, were pardoned, and became truly pious.
So that God planted the world at first with a noble vine ;
and at the beginning of their generations, he set the stream
of example the right way. And we see, that children are
more apt to follow the example of their parents, than of
any others ; especially in early youth, their forming time,
when those habits are generally contracted, which abide
by them all their days. Besides, Adam's children had no
other examples to follow, but those of their parents. How
therefore came the stream so soon to turn, and to proceed
the contrary way, with so violent a current ! When man
kind became so universally and desperately corrupt, as
not to be fit to live on earth any longer, and the world was
every where full of bad examples, God destroved them all
at once— except righteous Noah and his family— in order
to remove those bad examples, and that the world might
be planted again with good example, and the stream again
turned the right way. How therefore came it to pass,
that Noah's posterity did not follow his good example'
especially when they had such extraordinary things to en
force it, but so generally, even in his life-time, became
exceeding corrupt ? One Would think, the first generations
at least, while all lived together as one family, under Noah,
* See Jer. ii. 2, 3. Psal.lxviii. 14. Josh. xxii. 2. and xxiii. 8, Deut, iv.3,

their venerable father, might have followed his good
example. And if they had done so, then, when the earth
came to be divided in Peleg's time, the heads of the several
families would have set out their particular colonies with
good examples, and the stream would have been turned
the right way in all the various divisions, colonies, and na
tions ofthe world. Butwe see, in fact, that in aboutfifty
years after Noah's death, the world in general was over
run with dreadful corruption ; so that all virtue and good
ness was like soon to perish from among mankind, unless
something extraordinary should be done to prevent it.
Then, for a remedy, God separated Abraham and his
family from all the rest of the world, that they might be
delivered from the influence of bad example, and that in
his posterity he might have an holy seed. Thus God
again planted a noble vine ; Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob
being eminently pious. But how soon did their posterity
degenerate, till true religion was like to be swallowed up !
We see how desperately and almost universally corrupt
they were, when God brought them out of Egypt, and led
them in the wilderness.
Then God was pleased, before he planted his people in
Canaan, to destroy that perverse generation in the wilder
ness, that he might plant them there a noble vine, wholly a
right seed, and set them out with good example, in the
land where they were to have their settled abode. Jer. ii. 21.
It is evident, that the generation which came with Joshua
into Canaan was an excellent generation, by innumerable
things said of them.* But how soon did that people,
nevertheless, become the degenerate plant of a strange
vine !
And when the nation had a long time proved desperate
ly and incurably corrupt, God destroyed them, and sent
them into captivity — till the old rebels were dead and
purged out, in order to deliver their children from their evil
example. And when the following generation was puri
fied as in a furnace, God planted them again in the land
of Israel, a noble vine, and set them out with good example;
which yet was not followed by their posterity.
When again the corruption was become inveterate, the
christian church was planted ; and a glorious out-pouring
of the Spirit of God caused true virtue and piety to be ex
emplified far beyond whatever had been on eai'th before ;
and thus the christian church was planted a noble vine.
But that primitive good example has not prevailed, to cause
virtue to be generally and stedfastly maintained in the
christian world. To how great a degree it has been
otherwise, has already been observed.
After many ages of general and dreadful apostacy, God
was pleased to erect the protestant church, as separated
from the more corrupt part of Christendom ; and true piety
flourished in it very much at first ; God planted it a noble
vine : but notwithstanding the good examples of the first
reformers, what a melancholy pass is the protestant world
come to at this day !
When England grew very corrupt, God brought over a
number of pious persons, and planted them in New Eng
land, and this land was planted a noble vine. But how is the
gold become dim ! How greatly have we forsaken the pious
examples of our fathers !
So prone have mankind always proved themselves to
degeneracy and backsliding, that it shows plainly their
natural propensity. And when good has revived, and been
promoted among men, it has been by some divine interpo
sition, opposing the natural current ; the fruit of some ex
traordinary means. And the efficacy of such means has
soon been overcome by constant natural bias, the effect of
good example presently lost, and evil has regained the >
dominion. Like a heavy body, which may by some great
power be caused to ascend, against its nature, a little while,
but soon goes back again towards the centre, to which it
naturally and constantly tends.
So that evil example will in no wise account for the
corruption of mankind, without supposing a natural prone
ness to sin. The tendency of example alone will not ac
count for general wicked practice, as consequent on good
example. And if the influence of bad example is a reason
of some of the wickedness, that alone will not account for
4. Hos. xi. I. and ix. 10. Judg.ii. 7, 17, 22. and many other places.

Sect. IX.

SEVERAL EVASIONS CONSIDERED.

171

men becoming worse than the example set, degenerating
more and more, and growing worse and worse, which has
been their manner.
2. There has been given to the world an example of vir
tue, which, were it not for a dreadful depravity of nature,
would have influence on them who live under the gospel,
far beyond all other examples ; that is, the example of
Jesus Christ.
God, who knew the human nature, and how apt men
are to be influenced by example, has made answerable
provision. His infinite wisdom has contrived that we
should have set before us the most amiable and perfect
example, in such circumstances, as should have the great
est tendency to influence all the principles of man's na
ture, but his corruption. Men are apt to be moved by the
example of others like themselves, or in their own nature :
therefore this example was given in our nature. Men are
ready to follow the example of the great and honourable;
and this — though that of one in our nature, yet— was the
example of one infinitely higher and move honourable than
kings or angels. A people are apt to follow the example
of their prince. This is the example of that glorious per
son, who stands in a peculiar relation to Christians as their
Lord and King, the supreme head of the church ; and not
only so, but the King of kings, supreme head of the uni
verse, and head over all things to the church. Children
are apt to follow the example of their parents; this is the
example of the Author of our being, and of our holy and
happy being ; the Creator of the world, and everlasting
Father of the universe. Men are very apt to follow the
example of their friends : the example of Christ is that of
one who is infinitely our greatest friend, standing in the
most endearing relations of brother, redeemer, spiritual
head and husband ; whose grace and love expressed to us,
transcends all other love and friendship, as much as heaven
is higher than the earth. The virtues and acts of his ex
ample were exhibited to us in the most endearing and en
gaging circumstances that can possibly be conceived of. —
His obedience and submission to God, his humility, meek
ness, patience, charity, self-denial, Sec. being exercised and
expressed in a work of infinite grace, love, condescension,
and beneficence to us — and had all their highest expres
sions in his laying down his life, and meekly, patiently,
and cheerfully undergoing unutterable suffering for our
eternal salvation. Men are peculiarly apt to follow the
example of those from whom they have great benefits :
but it is utterly impossible to conceive of greater benefits,
that we could have by the virtues of any person, than we
have by the virtuous acts of Christ ; we, who depend upon
being thereby saved from eternal destruction, and brought
to inconceivable, immortal glory at God's right hand.
Surely if it were not for an extreme corruption of the
human heart, such an example would have that strong in
fluence on it, which would as it were swallow up the
power of all the evil and hateful examples of a generation
of vipers.
3. The influence of bad example, without corruption of
nature, will not account for children universally committing
sin as soon as capable of it ; which, I think, is a fact that
has been made evident by the Scripture. It will not ac
count for it in the children of eminently pious parents ;
the first example set in their view being very good ; which
was especially the case of many children in christian
families in the apostolic days, when the apostle John sup
poses that every individual person had sin to repent of,
and confess to God.
4. What Dr. T. supposes to have been fact, with respect
to a great part of mankind — the state of the heathen world,
which he supposes, considered as a collective body, was
helpless, dead in sin, and unable to recover itself— cannot
consistently be. accounted for from the influence of bad ex
ample. Not evil example alone, no, nor as united with
evil instruction, can be supposed a sufficient reason why
every new generation that arose among them, should not
be able to emerge from the idolatry and wickedness of their
ancestors, in any consistence with his scheme. The ill
example of ancestors could have no power to oblige them
to sin, any other way than as a strong temptation. But
* See Mor. Phil. p. 279. and Chris. Phil. p. 274.

Dr. T. himself says, (p. 72. S.) " To suppose men's tempt
ations to be superior to their powers, will impeach the
goodness and justice of God, who appoints every man's
trial." And as to bad instructions, as he supposes that
they all, yea every individual person, had light sufficient
to know God, and do their whole duty. And if each one
could do this for himself, then surely they might all be
agreed in it through the power of free will, as well as the
whole world be agreed in corruption by the same power.
Evasion IV. Some modern opposers of the doctrine of
original sin, thus account for the general prevalence of
wickedness, viz. that in the course of nature our senses
grow up first, and the animal passions get the start of
reason. So Dr. Turnbull,* " Sensitive objects first affect
us, and inasmuch as reason is a principle, which, in the
nature of things, must be advanced to strength and vigour,
by gradual cultivation, and these objects are continually
assailing and soliciting us; so, unless a very happy educa
tion prevents, our sensitive appetites must have become
very strong, before reason can have force enough to call
them to an account, and assume authority over them."
From hence Dr. Turnbull supposes it comes to pass,f
" That though some few may, through the influence of
virtuous example, be said to be sanctified from the womb,
so liberal, so generous, so virtuous, so truly noble is their
cast of mind ; yet generally speaking, the whole world
lieth in such wickedness, that, with respect to the far
greater part of mankind, the study of virtue is beginning
to reform, and is a severe struggle against bad habits, early
contracted, and deeply rooted ; it is therefore putting off
an old inveterate corrupt nature, and putting on a new
form and temper ; it is moulding ourselves anew ; it is a
being born again, and becoming as children.— And how
few are there in the world who escape its pollutions, so as
not to be early in that class, or to be among the righteous
that need no repentance !''
Dr. Taylor, though not so explicit, seems to hint at the
same thing, (p. 192.) " It is by slow degrees that children
come to the use of understanding; the animal passions
being for some years the governing part of their constitu
tion. And therefore, though they may be froward and apt.
to displease us, yet how far this is sin in them, we are not
capable of judging. But it may suffice to say, that it is
the will of God that children should have appetites and
passions to regulate and "restrain, that he hath given parents
instructions and commands to discipline and inform their
minds, that if parents first learned true wisdom for them
selves, and then endeavoured to bring up their children in
the way of virtue, there would be less wickedness in the
world." Concerning these things I would observe, that such a
scheme is attended with the very same difficulties, which
they who advance it would avoid by it; liable to the same
objections, which they make against God's ordering it so,
that men should be brought into being with a prevailing
propensity to sin. For this scheme supposes, the Author
of nature has so ordered things, that men should come into
being as moral agents, that is, should first have existence
in a state and capacity of moral agency, under a prevailing
propensity to sin. For that strength, which sensitive ap
petites and animal passions come to by their habitual ex
ercise, before persons come to the exercise of their rational
powers, amounts to a strong propensity to sin, when they
first come to the exercise of those rational powers, by the
supposition : because this is given as a reason why the
scale is turned for sin, and why, generally speaking, the
whole world lies in wickedness, and the study of virtue is a
severe struggle against bad habits, early contracted, and
deeply rooted. These deeply rooted habits must imply a
tendency to sin ; otherwise they could not account for that
which they are brought to account for, namely, prevailing
wickedness in the world : for that cause cannot account for
an effect, which is supposed to have no tendency to that
effect. And this tendency which is supposed, is altogether
equivalent to a natural tendency, being as necessary to the
subject. For it is supposed to be brought on the per
son, who is the subject of it, when he has no power to
oppose it; the habit, as Dr. Turnbull says, becoming very
t Chris. Phil. p. 282, 283,

172

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

p, I. Ch. I.

strong, before reason can have force enough to call the
passions to account, or assume authority over them. And
it is supposed, that this necessity, by which men become
subject to this propensity to sin, is from the ordering and
disposal of the Author of nature ; and therefore must be
as much from his hand, and as much without the hand of
the person himself, as if he were first brought into being
with such a propensity. Moreover, it is supposed that
the effect is truly wickedness. For it is alleged as a cause
why the whole world lies in wickedness, and why all but
a very few are first in the class of the wicked, and not
among the righteous, that need no repentance. If they
need repentance, what they are guilty of is truly and pro
perly wickedness, or moral evil ; for certainly men need
no repentance for that which is no sin, or blamable evil.
If, as a consequence of this propensity, the world lies in
wickedness, and the far greater part are of a wicked
character, without doubt the far greater part go to eternal
perdition : for death does not pick and choose, only for
men of a righteous character. And certainly that is an
evil, corrupt state of things, which naturally tends to and
issues in this consequence, that as it were the whole world
lies and lives in wickedness, dies in wickedness, and
perishes eternally. And this by the supposition, is a
state of things, wholly ordered by the Author of nature,
before mankind are capable of having any hand in the
affair. And is this any relief to the difficulties, which
these writers object against the doctrine of natural de
pravity 7
And I might here also observe, that this way of ac
counting for the wickedness of the world amounts to just
the same thing with that solution of man's depravity,
mentioned before, against which Dr. T. cries out, as too
gross to be admitted, (p. 188, 189.) viz. God creating the
soul pure, and putting it into such a body, as naturally
tends to pollute it. For this scheme supposes, that God
creates the soul pure, and puts it into a body, and into
such a state in that body, that the natural consequence is
a strong propensity to sin, as soon as the soul is capable
of sinning.
Dr. Turnbull seems to suppose, that the matter could
not have been ordered otherwise, consistent with the
nature of things, than that animal passions should be so
aforehand with reason, as that the consequence should be
that which has been mentioned ; because reason is a
faculty of such a nature, that it can have strength and
vigour no otherwise than by exercise and culture.* But
can there be any force in this ? Is there any thing in
nature, to make it impossible, but that the superior prin
ciples of man's nature should be so proportioned to the
inferior, as to prevent such a dreadful consequence, as the
moral and natural ruin, and eternal perdition of the far
greater part of mankind ? Could not those superior prin
ciples be in much greater strength at first, and yet be
capable of endless improvement 7 And what should hinder
its being so ordered by the Creator, that they should
improve by vastly swifter degrees than they do 7 If we
are Christians, we must be forced to allow it to be possible
in the nature of things, that the principles of human
nature should be so balanced, that the consequence should
be no propensity to sin, in the very beginning of a capacity
for moral agency ; because we must own, that it was so in
fact in Adam, when first created, and also in the man
Christ Jesus ; though the faculties of the latter were such
as grew by culture and improvement, so that he increased
in wisdom as he grew in stature.
Evasion V. Seeing men in this world are in a state of
trial, it is fit that their virtue should meet with trials, and
consequently that it should have opposition and tempta
tion to overcome ; not only from without, but from within,
in the animal passions and appetites ; that by the conflict
and victory our virtue may be refined and established.f
Agreeably to this Dr. T. (p. 253.) says, " Without a right
use and application of our powers, were they naturally
ever so perfect, we could not be judged fit to enter into
the kingdom of God. — This gives a good reason why we
» Mm: Phil. p. 311. t Belsham.

are now in a state of trial and temptation, viz. to prove
and discipline our minds, to season our virtue, and to fit
us for the kingdom of God ; for which, in the judgment
of infinite wisdom, we cannot be qualified, but by over
coming our present temptations." And, (p. 78. S.) " We
are upon trial, and it is the will of our Father that our
constitution should be attended with various passions and
appetites, as well as our outward condition with various
temptations." He says the like in several other places.
To the same purpose very often Dr. Turnbull, particu
larly Chris. Phil. p. 310. "What merit (he says) except
from combat 7 What virtue without the encounter of such
enemies, such temptations, as arise both from within and
from abroad 7 To be virtuous, is to prefer the pleasures
of virtue to those which come into competition with it,
and vice holds forth to tempt us ; and to dare to adhere to
truth and goodness, whatever pains and hardships it may
cost. There must therefore, in order to the formation and
trial, in order to the very being of virtue, be pleasures of a
certain kind to make temptations to vice."
In reply to these things I would say, either the state of
temptation^ which is supposed to be ordered for men's
trial, amounts on the whole to a prevailing tendency to
that state of general wickedness and rain, which has been
proved to take place, or it does not. If it does not amount
to a tendency to such an effect, then how does it account
for it 7 When it is inquired, by what cause such an effect
should come to pass, is it not absurd to allege a cause,
which is owned at the same time to have no tendency to
such an effect ? Which is as much as to confess, that it will
not account for it. I think it has been demonstrated, that
this effect must be owing to some prevailing tendency —
But if the other part of the dilemma be taken, and it be
said, that this state of things does imply a prevailing
tendency to that effect, which has been proved, viz. that
all mankind, without one exception, sin against God, to
their own deserved eternal ruin— and not only so, but sin
thus immediately, as soon as capable of it, and con
tinually, have more sin than virtue, and have guilt that
infinitely outweighs the value of all the goodness any ever
have, and that the generality of the world in all ages are
extremely stupid and foolish, of a wicked character, and
actually perish for ever — then I say, if the state of tempta
tion implies a natural tendency to such an effect as this,
it is a very evil, corrupt, and dreadful state of things, as
has been already largely shown.
Besides, such a state has a tendency to defeat its own
supposed end, which is to refine, ripen, and perfect virtue,
and so to fit men for the greater eternal happiness and
glory : whereas, the effect it tends to, is the reverse of this,
viz. general, eternal infamy and ruin, in all generations.
It is supposed, that men's" virtue must have passions and
appetites to struggle with, in order to have the glory and
reward of victory : but the consequence is, a prevailing,
continual, and generally effectual tendency — not to men s
victory over evil appetites and passions, and the glorious
reward of that victory, but — to the victory of evil appetites
and lusts over men, utterly and eternally destroying them.
If a trial of virtue be requisite, vet the question is, Whence
comes so general a failing in the trial, if there be no de
pravity of nature 7 If conflict and war be necessary,
whence the necessity that there should be more cowards
than good soldiers ? and whence is it necessary that the
whole world as it were should lie in wickedness, and die
in cowardice 7
I might also here observe, that Dr. Turnbull is not very
consistent, in supposing, that combat with temptation is
requisite to the very being of virtue. For I think it clearly
follows from his own notion of virtue, that it must have a
being prior to any virtuous or praiseworthy combat with
temptation. For by his principles, all virtue lies in good
affection, and no actions can be virtuous, but what pro
ceed from good affection.j Therefore, surely the combat
itself can nave no virtue in it, unless it proceeds from
virtuous affection : and therefore virtue must have an ex
istence before the combat, and be the cause of it.
t Chris. Phil. p. 113, 111, 115.

Chap. II.

ARGUMENT FROM UNIVERSAL MORTALITY.

173

CHAP. II.
UNIVERSAL MORTALITY PROVES ORIGINAL SIN; PARTICU
LARLY THE DEATH OF INFANTS, WITH ITS VARIOUS
CIRCUMSTANCES. The universal reign of death over persons of all ages
indiscriminately, with the awful circumstances and at
tendants of death, prove that men come sinful into the
world. — It is needless here particularly to inquire, Whe
ther God has not a sovereign right to set bounds to the
lives of his own creatures, be they sinful or not ; and as
he gives life, so to take it away when he pleases 7 Or how
far God has a right to bring extreme suffering and calamity
on an innocent moral agent 7 For death, with the pains
and agonies with which it is usually brought on, is not
merely a limiting of existence, but is a most terrible cala
mity ; and to such a creature as man — capable of con
ceiving of immortality, made with an earnest desire after
it, capable of foresight and reflection on approaching
death, and having an extreme dread of it — is a calamity
above all others terrible. I say, it is needless elaborately
to consider, whether God may not, consistent with his per
fections by absolute sovereignty, bring so great a calamity
on mankind when perfectly innocent. It is sufficient, if
we have good evidence from Scripture, that it is not
agreeable to God's manner of dealing with mankind so
to do.
It is manifest, that mankind were not originally subject
ed to this calamity : God brought it on them afterwards,
on occasion of man's sin, when manifesting his great
displeasure, and by a sentence pronounced by him as a
judge; which Dr. T. often confesses. Sin entered into
the world, as the apostle says, and death by sin. Which
certainly ieads us to suppose, that this affair was ordered,
not merely by the sovereignty of a creator, but by the
righteousness of ajudge. And the Scripture every where
speaks of all great afflictions and calamities, which God
in his providence brings on mankind, as testimonies of his
displeasure for sin, in the subjects of those calamities ;
excepting those sufferings which are to atone for the sins
of others. He ever taught his people to look on such cala
mities as his rod, the rod of his anger, his frown, the hidings
of his face in displeasure. Hence such calamities are in
Scripture so often called by the name of judgments, being
what God brings on men as ajudge, executing a righteous
sentence for transgression. Yea, they are often called by
the name of wrath, especially calamities consisting or
issuing in death.* And hence also is that which Dr. T.
wouldnave us take so much notice of, that sometimes, in
the Scripture, calamity and suffering is called by such
names as sin, iniquity, being guilty, eye. which is evidently
by a metonymy of the cause for the effect. It is not
likely that, in the language used of old among God's peo
ple, calamity or suffering would have been called by the
names of sin and guilt, if it had been so far from having
any connexion with sin, that even death itself, which is
always spoken of as the most terrible of calamities, is not
so much as any sign of the sinfulness of the subject, or
any testimony of God's displeasure for his guilt, as Dr.
T. supposes.
Death is spoken of in Scripture as the chief of calami
ties, the most extreme and terrible of all natural evils in
this world. Deadly destruction is spoken of as the most
terrible destruction". (1 Sam. v. 11.) Deadly sorrmv, as
the most extreme sorrow. (Isa. xvii. 11. Matt. xxvi. 38.)
And deadly enemies, as the most bitter and terrible ene
mies. (Psal. xvii. 9.) The extremity of Christ's sufferings
is represented by his suffering unto death. (Philip, ii. 8.
and other places.) Hence the greatest testimonies of
God's anger for the sins of men in this world, have been
by inflicting death ; as on the sinners of the old world ;
on the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah ; on Onan,
Pharaoh, and the Egyptians ; on Nadub and Abihu,
Korah. and his company, and the rest of the rebels in the
wilderness ; on the wicked inhabitants of Canaan ; on
Hophni and Phinehas, Ananias and Sapphira, and the
* See Lev. x. 6. Num. i. 53. and xviii. 5. Josh. ix. 20. 2 Chron. xxiv.
18. and xix. 2, JO. and xxviii. 13. and xxxii. 25. Ezra vii. 23. Neh. xiii. 18.

unbelieving Jews, upon whom wrath came to the utter
most, in the time of the last destruction of Jerusalem.
This calamity is often spoken of as in a peculiar manner
the fruit of guilt. Exod. xxviii. 43. " That they bear not
iniquity and die." Levit. xxii. 9. " Lest they bear sin
for it and die." (So Num. xviii. 22. compared with
Levit. x. 1, 2.) The very light of nature, or tradition
from .ancient revelation, led the heathen to conceive of
death as in a peculiar manner an evidence of divine ven
geance. Thus we have an account, (Acts xxviii. 4.) That
" when the barbarians saw the venomous beast hang on
Paul's hand, they said among themselves, no doubt this
man is a murderer, whom though he hath escaped the seas,
yet vengeance suffereth not to live."
Calamities, very small in comparison of the universal
temporal destruction of mankind by death, are spoken of
as manifest indications of God's great displeasure for the
sinfulness of the subject ; such as the destruction of par
ticular cities, countries, or numbers of men, by war or
pestilence. Deut. xxix. 24. " All nations shall say,
Wherefore hath the Lord done thus unto this land 7 what
meaneth the heat of this great anger?" (Compare Deut.
xxxii. 30. 1 Kings ix. 8. and Jer. xxii. 8, 9.) These cala
mities, thus spoken of as plain testimonies of God's great
anger, consisted only in hastening on that death, which
otherwise, by God's disposal, would most certainly have
come in a short time. Now to take off thirty or forty
years from seventy or eighty, supposing it to be so much,
one with another, in the time of these extraordinary judg
ments, is but a small matter, in comparison of God first
making man mortal, cutting off his hope of immortality,
subjecting him to inevitable death, which his nature so ex
ceedingly dreads ; and afterwards shortening his life fur
ther, by cutting off more than eight hundred years of it :
so bringing it to be less than a twelfth part of what it was
in the first ages of the world. Besides that innumerable
multitudes in the common course of things, without any
extraordinary judgment, die in youth, in childhood, and
infancy. Therefore how inconsiderable a thing is the ad
ditional or hastened destruction, that is sometimes brought
on a particular city or country by war, compared with that
universal havoc which death makes of the whole human
race, from generation to generation, without distinction of
sex, age, quality, or condition ; with all the infinitely various
dismal circumstances, torments, and agonies, which at
tend the death of old and young, adult persons and little
infants ! If those particular and comparatively trivial ca
lamities, extending perhaps not to more than the thou
sandth part of one generation, are clear evidences of God's
great anger ; certainly this universal destruction — by
which the whole world, in all generations, is swallowed
up, as by a flood that nothing can resist — must be a most
glaring manifestation of Goofs anger for the sinfulness of
mankind. Yea, the Scripture is express, that it is so :
(Psal. xc. 3, &c.) " Thou turnest man to destruction, and
sayest, Return, ye children of men. — Thou earnest them
away as with a flood : they are as a sleep : in the morning
they are like grass, which groweth up ; in the morning it
flourisheth and groweth up ; in the evening it is cut down
and withereth. For we are consumed by thine anger, and
by thy wrath are we troubled. Thou hast set our iniqui
ties before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy counte
nance. For all our days are passed awayin thy wrath :
we spend our years as a tale that is told. The days of our
years are threescore years and ten : and if by reason of
strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour
and sorrow ; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. Who
knoweth the power of thine anger 7 According to thy fear,
so is thy wrath. So teach us to number our days that we
may apply our hearts unto wisdom." How plain and full
is this testimony, that the general mortality of mankind is
an evidence of God's anger for the sin of those who are
the subjects of such a dispensation !
Abime/ech speaks of it as what he had reason to con
clude from God's nature and perfection, that he would not
slay a righteous nation. Gen. xx. 4. By righteous evidently
meaning innocent. And if so, much less will God slay a
righteous world— consisting of so many nations, repeating
Zech. vii. 12. and many other places,

17-1

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part I.

the great slaughter in every generation — or subject the
whole world of mankind to death, when they are con
sidered as innocent, as Dr. T. supposes. We have from
time to time in Scripture such phrases as — worthy of
death, and guilty of death : but certainly the righteous
Judge of all the earth will not bring death on thousands
of millions, not only that are not worthy of death, but are
worthy of no punishment at all.
Dr. T. from time to time speaks of affliction and death
as a great benefit, as they increase the vanity of all earthly
things, and tend to excite sober reflections, and to induce
us to be moderate in gratifying the appetites of the body,
and to mortify pride and ambition, &c* To this I would
say, 1 . It is not denied but God may see it needful for man
kind in their present state, that they should be mortal,
and subject to outward afflictions, to restrain their lusts,
mortify their pride, &:c. But then is it not an evidence of
man's depravity, that it is so ? Is it not an evidence of
distemper of mind, yea, strong disease, when man stands
in need of such sharp medicines, such severe and terrible
means to restrain his lusts, keep down his pride, and to
make him willing, and obedient to God? It must be
owing to a corrupt and ungrateful heart, if the riches of
divine bounty, in bestowing life and prosperity, things
comfortable and pleasant, will not engage the heart to
God and virtue, love and obedience. Whereas he must
always have the rod held over him, be often chastised, and
held under the apprehensions of death, to keep him from
running wild in pride, contempt, and rebellion ; ungrate
fully using the blessings dealt forth from God's hand, in
sinning against him, and serving his enemies. If man
has no natural disingenuity of heart, it must be a mysterious
thing indeed, that the sweet blessings of God's bounty
have not as powerful an influence to restrain him from
sinning against God, as terrible afflictions. If any thing
can be a proof of a perverse and vile disposition, this
must be a proof of it, that men should be most apt to
forget and despise God, when his providence is most kind ;
and that they should need to have God chastising them
with great severity, and even killing them, to keep them
in order. If we were as much disposed to gratitude to
God for his benefits, as we are to anger at our fellow-
creatures for injuries, as we must be (so far as I can see)
if we are not of a depraved heart ; then the sweetness of
divine bounty, and the height of every enjoyment pleasing
to innocent human nature, would be as powerful incentives
to a proper regard for God — tending as much to promote
religion and virtue — as to have the world filled with
calamities, and to have God (to use the language of
Hezekiah, Isaiah xxviii. 13. describing death and its
agonies) as a lion, breaking all our bones, and from day
even to night, making an end of us.
Dr. T. himself (p. 252.) says, " that our first parents
before the fall were placed in a condition proper to engage
their gratitude, love, and obedience." Which is as much
as to say, a condition proper to engage them to the exer
cise and practice of all religion. And if the paradisaical
state was proper to engage to all religion and duty, and
men still come into the world with hearts as good as the
two first of the species, why is it not proper to engage
them to it still ? What need of so vastly changing man's
state, depriving him of all those blessings, and instead of
them allotting to him a world full of briers and thorns,
affliction, calamity, and death, to engage him to it? The
taking away of life, and all those pleasant enjoyments
man had at first, by a permanent constitution, would be
no stated benefit to mankind, unless there was in them a
stated disposition to abuse such blessings. The taking of
them away, is supposed to be a benefit, under the notion
of their tending to lead men to sin : but they would have
no such tendency, at least in a stated manner, unless there
was in men a fixed tendency to make that unreasonable
misimprovemeht of them. Such a temper of mind, as
amounts to a disposition to make such a misimprovement
of blessings, is often spoken of in Scripture as most
astonishingly vile and perverse. So concerning Israel
abusing the blessings of Canaan, that land flowing with
» P. 21, 67, and other places.

milk and honey ; their ingratitude in it is spoken of by the
prophets, as enough to astonish all heaven and earth, and
as more than brutish stupidity and vileness. Jer. ii. 7. " I
brought them into a plentiful country, to eat the fruit there
of, and the goodness thereof. But when ye entered, ye
defiled my land," &c. See the following verses, especially
ver. 12. " Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this." So Isa. i.
2 — 4. " Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth ; I have
nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled
against me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his
master's crib ; but my people doth not know, Israel doth
not consider. Ah, sinful nation ! a people laden with
iniquity, a seed of evil-doers, children that are corrupters."
(Compare Deut. xxxii. 6 — 19.) If to be disposed thus
to abuse the blessings of so fruitful and pleasant a land as
Canaan, showed so great depravity, surely it would be an
evidence of a corruption no less astonishing, to be inclined
to abuse the blessings of Eden, and the garden of God.
2. If death be brought on mankind only as a benefit,
and in that manner which Dr. T. mentions, — to mortify or
moderate their carnal appetites and affections, wean them
from the world, excite them to sober reflections, and lead
them to the fear and obedience of God, &c. — is it not
strange that it should fall so heavily on infants, who are
not capable of making any such improvement of it ; so
that many more of mankind suffer death in infancy, than
in any other equal part of the age of man 7 Our author
sometimes hints, that the death of infants may be for the
correction and punishment of parents. But hath God
any need of such methods to add to parents' afflictions?
Are there not other ways for increasing their trouble, with
out destroying the lives of such multitudes of those who
are perfectly innocent, and who, on the supposition, have
in no respect any sin belonging to them ? On whom death
comes at an age, when not only the subjects are not capa
ble of reflection, or making any improvement of it, either
in suffering, or the expectation of it : but also at an age,
when parents and friends — who alone can improve, and
whom Dr. T. supposes alone to be punished by it — suffer
least by being bereaved of them ; though the infants them
selves sometimes suffer to great extremity 7
3. To suppose, as Dr. T. does, that death is brought on
mankind in consequence of Adam's sin, not at all as a
calamity but only as a favour and benefit, is contrary to
the gospel ; which teaches, that when Christ, as the second
Adam, comes to remove and destroy that death, which
came by the first Adam, he finds it not as a friend, but an
enemy. 1 Cor. xv. 22. " For as in Adam all die, so in
Christ shall all be made alive ;" (with ver. 25, and 26.)
" For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his
feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed, is death."
Dr. T- urges, that the afflictions to which mankind are
subjected, and particularly their common mortality, are
represented in Scripture as the chastisements of our
heavenly Father; and therefore are designed for our
spiritual good, and consequently are not of the nature of
punishments. (So in p. 68, 69. 38, 39. S.)
Though I think the thing asserted far from being true,
viz. that the Scripture represents die afflictions of man
kind in general, and particularly their common mortality,
as the chastisement of a heavenly Father ; vet it is need
less to stand to dispute that matter. For if it be so, it
will be no argument that the afflictions and death of man
kind are not evidences of their, sinfulness. Those would
be strange chastisements from the hand of a wise and good
Father, which are wholly for nothing; especially such
severe chastisements, as to break the child's bones, when
at the same time the father does not suppose any guilt,
fault, or offence, in any respect, belonging to the child ;
but it is chastised in this terrible manner, only for fear
that it will be faulty hereafter. I say, these would be a
strange sort of chastisements ; yea, though he should be
able to make it up to the child afterwards. Dr. T. speaks
of representations made by the whole current of Scrip
ture ; I am certain, it is not agreeable to the current of
Scripture, to represent divine fatherly chastisements after
this manner. It is true, the Scripture supposes such
chastenings to be the fruit of God's goodness ; yet at the

Chap. II.

ARGUMENT FROM UNIVERSAL MORTALITY.

175

same time it evermore represents them as being for the sin
of the subject, and as evidences of the divine displeasure
for its sinfulness. Thus the apostle (1 Cor. xi. 30 — 32.)
speaks of God chastening his people by mortal sickness,
for their good, that, they might not be condemned with the
world, and yet signifies that it was for their sin; for this
cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many
sleep : that is, for the profaneness and sinful disorder be
fore mentioned. So Elihu, (Job xxxiii. 16, &c.) speaks
of the same chastening by sickness, as for men's good ; to
withdraw man from nis sinful purpose, and to hide pride
from man, and keep back his soul from the pit ; that there
fore God chastens man with pain on his bed, and the multi
tude of his bones with strong pain. But these chastenings
are for his sins, as appears by what follows ; (ver. 28.)
Where it is observed, that when God by this means has
brought men to repent, and humbly corif'ess their sins, he
delivers them. Again, the same Elihu, speaking of the
unfailing love of God to the righteous, even when he
chastens them, and they are bound in fetters, and holden in
cords of 'affliction, (chap, xxxvi. 7, &'c.) yet speaks of these
chastenings as being for their sins, (ver. 9.) "Then he
showeth them their work, and their transgressions, that they
have exceeded." So David. (Psal. xxx.) speaks of God s
chastening by some afflictions, as being for his good, and
issuing joyfully ; and yet being the fruit of God's anger
for his sin, (ver. ¦ 5.) God's anger endureth but for
a moment, &c. (compare Psal. cxix. 67, 71, 75.) God's
fatherly chastisements are spoken of as being for sin. (2
Sam. vii. 14, 15.) " I will be his father, and he shall be
my son. If he commit iniquity, I will chasten him with
the rod of men, and with the stripes of the children of men ;
but my mercy shall not depart away from him." So the
prophet Jeremiah speaks of the great affliction that God's
people suffered in the time of the captivity, as being for
their good. (Lam. iii. 25, &c.) But yet these chastise
ments are spoken of as being for their sin, (see especially
ver. 39, 40.") -So Christ says, Rev. iii. 19. "As many as
I love, I rebuke and chasten." But the words following
show, that these chastenings from love are for sin that
should be repented of : " Be zealous therefore, and repent."
And though Christ tells us, they, are blessed that are
persecuted for righteousness' sake, and have reason to
rejoice and be exceeding glad ; yet even the persecutions
of God's people, as ordered in divine providence, are
spoken of as divine chastenings for sin, like the just cor
rections of a father, when the children deserve them,
Heb. xii. The apostle there speaking to the Christians
concerning the persecutions which they suffered, calls
their sufferings by the name of divine rebukes; which
implies testifying against a fault : and that they may not
be discouraged, puts them in mind, that whom the Lord
loves he chastens, and scourgeth every son that he receiveth.
It is also very plain, that the persecutions of God's people,
as they are from the disposing hand of God, are chastise
ments for sin.*
If divine chastisements in general are certain evidences
that the subjects are not wholly without sin, some way
belonging to them, then in a peculiar maimer is death so ;
for these reasons :
(l.j Because slaying, or delivering to death, is often
spoken of as, in general, a more awful thing than the
chastisements which are endured in this life. Thus, Psal.
cxviii. 17, 18. " I shall not die, but live, and declare the
works of the Lord. The Lord hath chastened me sore ;
but he hath not given me over unto death." So the
Psalmist, (Psal. lxxxviii. 15.) setting forth the extremity
of his affliction, represents it as what was next to death.
" I am afflicted, and ready to die,— while I suffer thy ter
rors, I am distracted." (See 1 Sam. xx. 3.) And so
God's tenderness towards persons under chastisement, is,
from time to time, set forth, that he did not proceed so far,
as to make an end of them by death.t God's people
often pray, when under great affliction, that God would
not proceed to this, as 'the greatest extremity. Psal.
xiii. 3. " Consider, and hear me, O Lord, my God ;
lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death."!
* See I Pet. iv. 17, 18, compared with Prov. xi. 31. See also Psal. lxix.
4-9. t As in Psal. lxxviiL 38, 39. Psal. ciii. 9, with ver. 14, 15. Psal. xxx. 2,

Especially may death be looked upon as the most ex
treme of all temporal sufferings, when attended with such
dreadful circumstances, and extreme pains, as those with
which Providence sometimes brings it on infants ; as on
the children that were offered up to Moloch, and some
other idols, who were tormented to death in burning brass.
Dr. T. says, (p. 83, 128. S.) "The Lord of all being can
never want time, and place, and power, to compensate
abundantly any sufferings infants now undergo in subser
viency to his good providence." But there are no bounds
to such a licence, in evading evidences from fact. It
might as well be said, that there is not and cannot be any
such thing as evidence, from events of God's displeasure ;
which is most contrary to the whole current of Scripture,
as may appear in part from what has been observed. This
gentleman might as well go further still, and say, that God
may cast guiltless persons into hell fire, to remain there in
the most unutterable torments for ages of ages, (which
bear no greater proportion to eternity than a quarter of an
hour,) and if he does so, it is no evidence of God's dis
pleasure ; because he can never want time, place, and
power, abundantly to compensate their sufferings after
wards. If it be so, it is not to the purpose, as long as the
Scripture so abundantly teaches us to look on great cala
mities and sufferings which God brings on men, especially
death, as marks of his displeasure for sin, and for sin be
longing to them who suffer.
(2.) Another thing — which may well lead us to suppose
death, in a peculiar manner, above other temporal suffer
ings, to be intended as a testimony of God's displeasure
for sin — is, that death is attended with that awful appear
ance, that gloomy and terrible aspect, which naturally
suggests to our minds God's awful displeasure. Of this
Dr. T. himself takes particular notice, when (p. 69.) speak
ing of death ; " Herein (says he) have we before our eyes
a striking demonstration, that sin is infinitely hateful to
God, and the corruption and ruin of our nature. Nothing
is more proper than such a sight to give us the utmost
abhorrence of all iniquity," &c. Now, if death be no
testimony of God's displeasure for sin — no evidence that
the subject is looked upon, by him who inflicts it, as any
other than perfectly innocent, free from all imputation of
guilt, and treated only as an object of favour — is it not
strange, that God should annex to it such affecting appear
ances of his hatred and anger for sin, more than to other
chastisements 7 Which yet the Scripture teaches us are
always for sin. These gloomy and striking manifestations
of God's hatred of sin attending death, are equivalent to the
awful frowns of God attending the stroke of his hand. If
we should see a wise and just father chastising his child,
mixing terrible frowns with severe strokes, we should justly
argue, that the father considered his child as having in him
something displeasing, and that he did not thus treat his
child only under a notion of mortifying him, and prevent
ing his being faulty hereafter, and making it up to him
afterwards, when he had been perfectly innocent, and
without fault, either of action or disposition.
We may well argue from these tilings, that infants are
not sinless, but are by nature children of wrath, seeing
this terrible evil comes so heavily on mankind at this
early period. But, besides the mortality of infants in
general, there are some particular cases of their death at
tended with circumstances, which, in a peculiar manner^
give evidence of their sinfulness, and of their just exposed
ness to divine wrath. Particularly,
The destroying of the infants in Sodom and the neigh
bouring cities, may be pleaded in evidence; for these
cities destroyed in so miraculous and awful a manner, are
set forth as a signal example of God's dreadful vengeance
for sin. (Jude, ver. 7.) God did not reprove, but mani
festly countenanced, Abraham, when he said, with respect
to the destruction of Sodom, (Gen. xviii. 23, 25.) " Wilt
thou destroy the righteous with the wicked ? That be far
from thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous
with the wicked, and that the righteous should be as the
wicked, that be far from thee. Shall not the Judge of all
the earth do right 7" Abraham's words imply that God

3, 9. and Job xxxiii. 22-
11. and cxliii. 7.

t So Job x. 9. Psal. vi. 1—5. lxxxviii 9, 10,

176

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part I.

would not destroy the innocent with theguilty. We may
well understand innocent as included in the word righteous,
according to the language usual in Scripture, in speaking
of such cases of judgment and punishment.* Eliphaz
says, Job iv. 7. "Who ever perished, being innocent?
or where were the righteous cut off?" We see what
great care God took that Lot should not be involved in
that destruction. He was miraculously rescued by angels,
sent on purpose ; who laid hold on him, brought him, set
him without the gates of the city, and told him that they
could do nothing till he was out of the way. (Gen. xix. 22.)
And not only was he thus miraculously delivered, but his
two wicked daughters for his sake. The whole affair,
both the destruction and the rescue, was miraculous ; and
God could as easily have delivered the infants which
were in those cities. And if they had been without sin,
their perfect innocency, one should think, would have
pleaded much more strongly for them, than those lewd
women's relation to Lot pleaded for them. When in such
a case, we must suppose these infants much further from
deserving to be involved in that destruction, than even
Lot himself. To say, that God could make it up to those
infants in another world, must be an insufficient reply.
For so he could as easily have made it up to Lot, or to
ten or fifty righteous, if they had been destroyed in the
same fire. Nevertheless, it is plainly signified, that this
would not have been agreeable to the wise and holy pro
ceedings of the judge of all the earth.
Since God declared, that if there had been found but
ten righteous in Sodom, he would have spared the whole
city for their sakes, may we not well suppose, if infants
are perfectly innocent, that he would have spared the old
world, in which there were, without doubt, many hundred
thousand infants, and in general, one in every family,
whose perfect innocence pleaded for its preservation 7 Es
pecially when such vast care was taken to save Noah and
his family, (some of whom, one at least, seem to have
been none of the best,) that they might not be involved in
that destruction. If the perfect sinlessness of infants had
been a notion entertained among the people of God, in the
ages next following the flood — handed down from Noah
and his children, who well knew that vast multitudes of
infants perished in the flood — is it likely that Eliphaz,
who lived within a few generations of Shem and Noah,
would have said to Job, (Job iv. 7.) " Who ever perished,
being innocent ? and when were the righteous cut off?
Especially, since in the same discourse (chap. v. 1 .) he
appeals to the tradition of the ancients for a confirmation
of this very point, (also in chap. xv. 7 — 10. and xxii. 15,
16.) and he mentions the destruction of the wicked by the
flood, as an instance of that perishing of the wicked, which
he supposes to be peculiar to them, for Jo6's conviction ;
in which the wicked were cut down out of time, their foun
dation being overflown with a flood. Where it is also
observable, that he speaks of such an un timeliness of death
as they suffered by the flood, as one evidence of guilt ;
as he also does, chap. xv. 32, 33. "It shall be accom
plished before his time ; and his branch shall not be green."
But those who were destroyed by the flood in infancy,
above all the rest, were cut down out of lime ; when in
stead of living above nine hundred years, according to
the common period of man's life, at that time, many were
cut down before they were one year old.
When God executed vengeance on the ancient inhabit
ants of Canaan, he not only did not spare their cities and
families for the sake of their infants, nor took care that
they should not be involved in the destruction ; but he
often repeated his express commands, that their infants
should not be spared, but should be utterly destroyed,
without any pity ; while Rahab the harlot (who had been
far from innocence, though she expressed her faith in en
tertaining and safely dismissing the spies) was preserved,
and all her friends for her sake. And when God executed
his wrath on the Egyptians, by slaying their first-born —
though the children of Israeli, who were most of them
wicked men, as was before shown, were wonderfully
spared by the destroying angel, yet — the Egyptian infants
were not spared. They not only were not rescued by the
• Gen. xx. 4. Exod. xxiii. 7. Deut. xxv. 1. 2 Sam. iv. 11. 2 Chron.

angel, and no miracle wrought to save them, (as was ob
served in the case of the infants of Sodom,) but the angel
destroyed them by his own immediate hand, and a miracle
was wrought to kill them.
Not to be particular, concerning the command by Moses,
respecting die destruction of the infants of the Midianites ;
(Numb. xxxi. 17.) and that given to Saul to destroy all
the infants of the Amalekites ; (1 Sam. xv. 3.) and what
is said concerning Edom, (Psal. cxxxvii. 9.) "Happy
shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against
the stones ;" I proceed to take notice of something remark
able concerning the destruction of Jerusalem, represented
in Ezek. ix. when command was given to destroy the in
habitants, ver. 1 — 8. And this reason is given for it, that
their iniquity required it, and it was a just recompence of
their sin, (ver. 9, 10.) God, at the same time, was most
E articular and exact in his care, that such as had proved
y their behaviour, that they were not partakers in the
abominations of the city, should by no means be involved
in the slaughter. Command was given to the angel to go
through the city, and set a mark upon their foreheads, and
the destroying angel had a strict charge not to come near
any man, on whom was the mark ; yet the infants were
not marked, nor ' a word said of sparing them : on the
contrary, infants were expressly mentioned as those that
should be utterly destroyed, 'without pity, (ver. 5, 6.)
" Go through the city and smite : let not your eye spare,
neither have ye pity. Slay utterly old and young, both
maids and little children : but come not near any man
upon whom is the mark."
And if any should suspect, that such instances as these
were peculiar to a more severe dispensation, under the Old
Testament, let us consider a remarkabls instance in the
days of the glorious gospel of the grace of God; even
the last destruction of Jerusalem. This was far more
terrible, and with greater testimonies of God's wrath and
indignation, than the destruction of Sodom, or of Jeru
salem in Nebuchadnezzar's time, or any thing that ever had
happened to any city, or people, from the beginning of the
world to that "time. (Agreeable to Matt. xxiv. 21. and
Luke xxi. 22, 23.) At that time particular care was taken
to distinguish and to deliver God's people ; as foretold,
Dan. xii. 1. And we have in the New Testament a par
ticular account of the care Christ took for the preservation
of his followers : he gave them a sign, by which they
might know when the desolation of the city was nigh,
that they who were in Jerusalem might flee to the moun
tains, and escape. And, as history relates, the Christians
followed the directions given, and escaped to a place in
the mountains called Pella, and were preserved. Yet no
care was taken to preserve the infants of the city, in
general ; but according to the predictions of that event,
they were involved with others m that great destruction.
So heavily did the calamity fall upon them, that those
words were verified, Luke xxiii. 29. "Behold the days
are coming, in which they shall say, Blessed are the
barren, and the womb that never bare, and the paps which
never gave suck : " and that prophecy in Deut. xxxii. 21
— 25. which has undoubtedly a special respect to this
very time, and is so applied by the best commentators ;
— " I will provoke them to jealousy with) those that are
not a people : for a fire is kindled in mine anger, — and it
shall burn to the lowest hell. I will heap mischiefs upon
them : I will spend mine arrows upon them. They shall
be burnt with hunger, and devoured with burning heat,
and bitter destruction. The sword without, and terror
within, shall destroy both the young man, and the virgin,
the suckling also, with the man of grey hairs." And, by
the history of that destruction appears, that then it was a
remarkable fulfilment of Deut. xxviii. 53 — 57. concerning
parents eating their children in the siege,— and the tender
and delicate woman eating her new-born child. And here
it must be remembered, that these very destructions of
that city and land are spoken of as clear evidences of
God's wrath, to all nations who shall behold them. And
if so, they were evidences of God's wrath towards infants ;
who, equally with the rest, were the subject of the destruc
tion. If a particular kind or rank of persons, which made
vi. 23. and Prov. xviii. 5.

Chap. II.

ARGUMENT FROM UNIVERSAL MORALITY.

177

made a very considerable part of the inhabitants, were
from time to time partakers of the overthrow, without
any distinction made in Divine Providence, and yet this
was no evidence at all of God's displeasure with any of

them; then being the subjects of such a calamity could
not be an evidence of God's wrath against any of the in
habitants, to the reason of all nations, or any nation, or so
much as one person.

PART IT.
CONTAINING OBSERVATIONS ON PARTICULAR PARTS OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURE, WHICH PROVE THE DOCTRINE OF
ORIGINAL SIN.

CHAP. I.
OBSERVATIONS RELATING TO THINGS CONTAINED IN THE
THREE FIRST CHAPTERS OF GENESIS, WITH REFERENCE
TO THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN.
Sect. I.
Concerning original righteousness ; and whether our first
parents were created with righteousness, or moral recti
tude of heart ?
The doctrine of Original Righteousness, or the creation
of our first parents with holy principles and dispositions,
has a close connexion, in several respects, with the doctrine
of original sin. Dr. T. was sensible of this ; and accord
ingly he strenuously opposes this doctrine, in his book
against original sin. And therefore in handling the sub
ject, 1 would in the first place remove this author's main
objection against this doctrine, and then show how it may
be inferred from the account which Moses gives us, in the
three first chapters of Genesis.
Dr. T.'s grand objection against this doctrine, which he
abundantly insists on, is this : that it is utterly inconsis
tent with the nature of virtue, that it should be concre-
ated with any person ; because, if so, it must be by an
act of God's absolute power, without our knowledge or
concurrence ; and that moral virtue, in its very nature,
implieth the choice and consent of the moral agent, with
out which it cannot be virtue and holiness : that a neces
sary holiness is no holiness. So p. 180. where he ob
serves, " That Adam must exist, he must be created, yea
he must exercise thought and reflection, before he was
righteous." (See also p. 250, 251.) In p. 161. S. he
says, " To say, that God not only endowed Adam with a
capacity of being righteous, but moreover that righteous
ness and true holiness were created with him, or wrought
into his nature, at the same time he was made, is to affirm
a contradiction, or what is inconsistent with the very nature
of righteousness." And in like manner Dr. Turnbull in
many places insists upon it, that it is necessary to the very
being of virtue, that it be owing to our own choice, and di
ligent culture.
With respect to this, I would observe, that it consists
in a notion of virtue quite inconsistent with the nature of
things, and the common notions of mankind; and also
inconsistent with Dr. T.'s own notions of virtue. There
fore, if to affirm that to be virtue or holiness, which is not
the fruit of preceding thought, reflection, and choice, is to
affirm a contradiction, I shall show plainly, that for him
to affirm otherwise, is a contradiction to himself.
In the first place, I think it a contradiction to the na
ture of things, as judged of by the common sense of man
kind. It is agreeable to the sense of men, in all nations
and ages, not only that the fruit or effect of a good choice
is virtuous, but that the good choice itself, from whence
that effect proceeds, is so ; yea, also the antecedent good
disposition, temper, or affection of mind, from whence
proceeds that good choice, is virtuous. This is the general
notion— not that principles derive their goodness from
actions, but — that actions derive their goodness from the
principles whence they proceed ; so that the act of choos
ing what is good, is no further virtuous, than it proceeds
from a good principle, or virtuous disposition of mind.
• Mor. Phil. p. 112—115. p. 142. et alibi passim.
VOL. I. N

Which supposes, that a virtuous disposition of mind may
be before a virtuous act of choice ; and that, therefore, it
is not necessary there should first be thought, reflection,
and choice, before there can be any virtuous disposition.
If the choice be first, before the existence of a good dis
position of heart, what is the character of that choice 7
There can, according to our natural notions, be no virtue
in a choice which proceeds from no virtuous principle, but
from mere self-love, ambition, or some animal appetites ;
therefore, a virtuous temper of mind may be before a good
act of choice, as a tree may be before the fruit, and the
fountain before the stream which proceeds from it.
The following things, in Mr. Hutcheson's inquiry con
cerning moral good and evil, are evidently agreeable to
the nature of things, and the voice of human sense and
reason. (Sect. II. p. 132, 133.) " Every action wbich we
apprehend as either morally good or evil, is always sup
posed to flow from some affections towards sensitive
natures. And whatever we call virtue or vice, is either some
such affection, or some action consequent upon it. —
All the actions counted religious iu any country, are sup
posed by those who count them so, to flow from some
affections towards the Deity : and whatever we call social
virtue, we still suppose to flow from affections towards
our fellow-creatures. — Prudence, if it is only employed in
promoting private interest, is never imagined to be a vir
tue." In these things Dr. Turnbull expressly agrees with
Mr. Hutcbeson, his admired author.*
If a virtuous disposition or affection is before its acts,
then they are before those virtuous acts of choice which
proceed from it. Therefore, there is no necessity that all
virtuous dispositions or affections should be the effect of
choice : and so, no such supposed necessity can be a good
objection against such a disposition being natural, or from
a kind of instinct, implanted in the mind in its creation.
Agreeably to this Mr. Hutcheson says, (Ibid. sect. III. p.
196, 197.) " I know not for what reason some will not
allow that to be virtue, which flows from instinct or pas
sions. But how do they help themselves 7 They say,
virtue arises from reason. What is reason, but the saga
city we have in prosecuting any end 7 The ultimate end
proposed by common moralists, is the happiness of the
agent himself. And this certainly he is determined to
pursue from instinct. Now may not another instinct to
wards the public, or the good of others, be as proper a
principle of virtue as the instinct towards private happi
ness 7 If it be said, that actions from instinct are not the
effect of prudence and choice, this objection will hold
full as strongly against the actions which flow from self-
love." And if we consider what Dr. T. declares, as his own
notion of the essence of virtue, and which he so confi
dently and often affirms, that it should follow choice, and
proceed from it, we shall find it is no less repugnant to
that sentiment, than it is to the nature of things, and the
general notions of mankind. For it is his notion, as well
as Mr. Hutcheson's, that the essence of virtue lies in good
affection, and particularly in benevolence or love : as he
very fully declares in these words in his Key,f " That the
word that signifies goodness and mercy should also sig
nify moral rectitude in general, will not seem strange, if
we consider that love is the fulfilling of the law. Good
ness, according to the sense of Scripture, and the nature
of things, includes all moral rectitude ; which, I reckon,
t Marginal Note, annexed to § 35a

178

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. I.

may everv part of it, where it is true and genuine, be re
solved into this single principle." If it be so indeed, then
certainly no act whatsoever can have moral rectitude, but
what proceeds from this principle. And consequently no
act of volition or choice can have any moral rectitude, that
takes place before this principle exists. And yet he most
confidently affirms, that thought, reflection, and choice
must go before virtue, and that all virtue or righteousness
must be the fruit of preceding choice. This brings his
scheme to an evident contradiction. For no act of choice
can be virtuous but what proceeds from a principle of
benevolence, or love ; for he insists that all genuine moral
rectitude, in every part of it, is resolved into this single
principle. And yet the principle of benevolence itself
cannot be virtuous, unless it proceeds from choice ; for he
affirms, that nothing can have the nature of virtue but what
comes from choice. So that virtuous love, as the principle
of all virtue, must go before virtuous choice, and be the
principle or spring of it ; and yet virtuous choice must go
before virtuous benevolence, and be the spring of that, if
a virtuous act of choice goes before a principle of benevo
lence, and produces it, then this virtuous act is something
distinct from that principle which follows it, and is its
effect. So that here is at least one part of virtue, yea the
spring and source of all virtue, viz. a virtuous choice, that
cannot be resolved into that single principle of love.
Here also it is worthy to be observed, that Dr. T. (p.
128.) says, the cause of every effect is alone chargeable
with the effect it produceth or which proceedeth from it .
and so he argues, that if the effect be bad, the cause alone
is sinful. According to which reasoning, when the effect
is good, the cause alone is righteous or virtuous. To the
cause is to be ascribed all the praise of the good effect it
produceth. And by the same reasoning it wili follow, that
if, as Dr. Taylor says, Adam must choose to be righteous,
before he was righteous, and if it be essential to the nature
of righteousness, or moral rectitude, that it be the effect of
choice, and hence a principle of benevolence cannot have
moral rectitude, unless it proceeds from choice ; then not
the principle of benevolence, which is the effect, but to
the foregoing choice alone is to be ascribed all the virtue
or righteousness that is in the case. And so, instead of
all moral rectitude, in every part of it, being resolved into
that single principle of benevolence, no moral rectitude, in
any part of it, is to be resolved into that principle ; but
all is to be resolved into the foregoing choice, which is the
cause. But yet it follows from these inconsistent principles,
that there is no moral rectitude or virtue in that first act of
choice, that is the cause of all consequent virtue. This
follows two ways ; 1. Because every part of virtue lies in
the benevolent principle, which is the effect ; and therefore
no part of it can lie in the cause. 2. The choice of virtue,
as to the first act at least, can have no virtue or righteous
ness at all ; because it does not proceed from any forego
ing choice. For Dr. T. insists, that a man must first have
reflection and choice, before he can have righteousness ;
and that it is essential to holiness that it proceed from
choice. So that the first choice from which holiness pro
ceeds, can have no virtue at all, because, by the supposi
tion, it does not proceed from choice, being the first choice.
Hence, if it be essential to holiness that it proceeds from
choice, it must proceed from an unholy choice ; unless the
first holy choice can be before itself.
And with respect to Adam, let us consider how upon
Dr. T.'s principles, it was possible he ever should have
any such thing as righteousness, by any means at all. In
the state wherein God created him, he could have no such
thing as love to God, or any benevolence in his heart. For
if.so, there would have been original righteousness ; there
would have been genuine moral rectitude ; nothing would
have heen wanting : for our author says, True genuine
moral rectitude, in every part of it, is to be resolved into
this single principle. But if he were wholly without any
such thing as love to God, or any virtuous love, how
should he come by virtue? The answer doubtless will
be, by act of choice : he must first choose to be virtuous.
But what if he did choose to be virtuous ? It could not
t This is doubtless true : for although there was no natural sinful incli
nation in Adam, yet an inclination to that sin of eating the forbidden fruit,

be from love to God, or anv virtuous principle, that he
chose it ; for, by the supposition, he has no such principle
in his heart. And if he chooses it without such a prin
ciple, still, according to this author, there is no virtue in
his choice ; for all virtue, he says, is to be resolved into
that single principle of love. Or will he say, there may be
produced in the heart a virtuous benevolence by an act
or acts of choice, that are not virtuous ? But this does
not consist with what he implicitly asserts, that to the cause
alone is to be ascribed what is in the effect. So that there
is no way that can possibly be devised, in consistence with
Dr. T.'s scheme, in which Adam ever could have any
righteousness, or could ever either obtain any principle of
virtue, or perform any one virtuous act.
These confused inconsistent assertions, concerning virtue
and moral rectitude, arise from the absurd notions in
vogue, concerning/ree-OOT of will, as if it consisted in the
will's self-determining power, supposed to be necessary to
moral agency, virtue, and vice. The absurdities of which,
with the grounds of these errors, and what the truth is
respecting these matters, with its evidences, I have, ac
cording to my ability, fully and largely considered, in my
" Inquiry" on that subject; to which I must refer the
reader, who desires further satisfaction, and is willing to
give himself the trouble of reading that discourse.
Having considered this great argument, and pretended
demonstration of Dr. T. against original righteousness ; I
proceed to the proofs of the doctrine. And, in the first
place, I would consider, whether there be not evidence of
it in the three first chapters of Genesis : or, whether the
history there delivered does not lead us to suppose, that
our first parents were created in a state of moral rectitude
and holiness.
I. This history leads us to suppose, that Adam's sin,
with relation to the forbidden fruit, was the first sin he com
mitted. Which could not have been, had he not always,
till then, been perfectly righteous, righteous from the first
moment of his existence ; and consequently, created or
brought into existence righteous. In a moral agent, sub
ject to moral obligations, it is the same thing, to be per
fectly innocent, as to be perfectly righteous. It must be
the same, because there can no more be any medium be
tween sin and righteousness, or between being right and
being wrong, in a moral sense, than there can be a medium
between straight and crooked, in a natural sense. Adam
was brought into existence capable of acting immediately,
as a moral agent; and therefore he was immediately under
a rule of right action. He was obliged as soon as he
existed to act aright. And if he was obliged to act aright
as soon as he existed, he was obliged even then to be in
clined to act right. Dr. T. says, (p. 166. S.) " Adam could
not sin without a sinful inclination :"* and, just for the
same reason, he could not do aright, without an inclina
tion to right action. And as he was obliged to act rightly
from the first moment of his existence, and did so, till he
sinned in reference to the forbidden fruit, he must have
had a disposition of heart to do rightly the first moment
of his existence ; and that is the same as to be created, or
brought into existence, with an inclination to right action,
or, which is the same thing, a virtuous and holy disposition
of heart.
Here it will be in vain to say, " It is true, that it was
Adam's duty to have a good disposition or inclination, as
soon as it was possible to be obtained, in the nature of
things ; but as it could not be without time to establish
such a habit, which requires antecedent thought, reflection,
and repeated right action ; therefore all that Adam could
be obliged to, in the first place, was to reflect, and con
sider things in a right manner, and apply himself to right
action, in order to obtain a right disposition :" for this
supposes, that even the reflection and consideration to
which he was obliged, was right action. Surely he was
obliged to it no otherwise than as a thing that was right:
and therefore he must have an inclination to this right ac
tion immediately, before he could perform those first right
actions. And as the inclination to them should be right,
the principle, or disposition from which he performed even
those actions, must be good : otherwise the actions would
was begotten in him by the delusion and error he was led into- and this
inclination to eat the forbidden fruit, must precede his actual eating.

Sect I.

CONCERNING ADAM'S Or.IGINAL RIGHTEOUSNESS.

179

not be right in the sight of him who looks at the heart;
nor would they answer his obligations, if he had done
them for some sinister end, and not from a regard to God
and his duty. Therefore there must have been a regard to
God and his duty implanted in him at his first existence :
otherwise it is certain, he would have done nothing from a
regard to God and his duty ; no, not so much as to reflect
and consider, and try to obtain such a disposition. The
very supposition of a disposition to right action being first
obtained by repeated right action, is grossly inconsistent
with itself: for it supposes a course of right action, before
there is a disposition to perform any right action.
These are no invented quibbles or sophisms. If God
expected from Adam any obedience, or duty to him at all,
when he first made him — whether it was in reflecting, con
sidering, or any way exerting his faculties — then he was
expected immediately to exercise love to God. For how
could it be expected, that Adam should have a strict and
perfect regard to God's commands and authority, and his
duty to him, when he had no love nor regard to him in his
heart, nor could it be expected he should have any 7 If
Adam from the beginning did his duty to God, and had
more respect to the will of his Creator, than to other things,
and as much respect to him as he ought to have ; then
from the beginning he had a supreme and perfect respect
and love to God : and if so, he was created with such a
principle. There is no avoiding the consequence. Not
only external duties, but internal ones, such as summarily
consist in love, must be immediately required of Adam, as
soon as he existed, if any duty at all was required. For it
is most apparently absurd, to talk of a spiritual being, with
the faculties of understanding and will, being required to
perform external duties, without internal. Dr. T. himself
observes, that love is the fulfilling of the law, and that all
moral rectitude, even every part of it, must be resolved into
that single principle. Therefore, if any morally right act at
all, reflection, consideration, or any thing else, was required
of Adam immediately, on his first existence, and was per
formed as required ; then he must, the first moment of his
existence, have his heart possessed of that principle of di
vine love ; which implies the whole of moral rectitude in
every part of it, according to our author's own doctrine ;
and so the whole of moral rectitude or righteousness must
begin with his existence : which is the thing taught in the
doctrine of original righteousness.
Let us consider how it could be otherwise, than that
Adam was always, in every moment of his existence,
obliged to exercise such respect of heart towards every ob-
fct, as was agreeable to the apparent merit of that object.
or instance, would it not at any time have become Adam,
on the exhibition of God's infinite goodness to him, to have
exercised answerable gratitude ; and would not the con
trary have been unbecoming and odious? And if some
thing had been presented to Adam's view, transcendently
amiable in itself, for .nstance, the glorious perfection of the
divine nature, would it not have become him to love,
relish, and delight in it 7 Would not such an object have
merited this ? And if the view of an object so amiable in
itself did not affect his mind with complacence, would it
not, according to the plain dictates of our understanding,
have shown an unbecoming temper of mind? Time, by
culture, to form and establish a good disposition, would
not have taken off the odiousness of the temper. And if
there had been never so much time, I do not see how it
could be expected he should improve it aright, in order to
obtain a good disposition, if he had not already some good
disposition to engage him to it.
That belonging to the will, and disposition ofthe heart,
which is in itself either odious or amiable, unbecoming or
decent, always would have been Adam's virtue or sin, in
any moment of his existence ; if there be any such thing as
virtue or vice ; by which terms nothing can be meant, but
something in our moral disposition and behaviour, which
is becoming or unbecoming, amiable or odious.
Human nature must be created with sorhe dispositions ;
a disposition to relish some things as good and amiable,
and to be averse to other things as odious and disagree
able : otherwise, it must be without any such thing as in
clination or will; perfectly indifferent, without preference,
without choice, or aversion, towards any thing as agree-
N 2

able or disagreeable. But if it had any concreated disposi
tions at all, they must be either right or wrong, either
agreeable or disagreeable to the nature of things. If man
had at first the highest relish of things excellent and beau
tiful, a disposition to have the quickest and highest delight
in those things which were most worthy of it, then his
dispositions were morally right and amiable, and never can
be excellent in a higher sense. But if he had a disposition
to love most those things that were inferior and less worthy,
then his dispositions were vicious. And it is evident there
can be no medium between these.
II. This notion of Adam being created without a prin
ciple of holiness in his heart, taken with the rest of Dr.
T.'s scheme, is inconsistent with what the history in the
beginning of Genesis leads us to suppose of the great fa
vours and smiles of Heaven, which Adam enjoyed while he
remained in innocency. The Mosaic account suggests to
us, that till Adam sinned, he was in happy circumstances,
surrounded with testimonies and fruits of God's favour.
This is implicitly owned by Dr. T. when he says, (p. 252.)
" That in the dispensation our first parents were under be
fore the fall, they were placed in a condition proper to en
gage their gratitude, love, and obedience." But it will
follow, on our author's principles, that Adam, while in
innocency, was placed in far worse circumstances, than he
was in after his disobedience, and infinitely worse than his
posterity are in ; under unspeakably greater disadvantages
for avoiding sin, and the performance of duty. For by this
doctrine, Adam's posterity come into the world with their
hearts as free from any propensity to sin as he, and he was
made as destitute of any propensity to righteousness as they :
and yet God, in favour to them, does great things to re
strain them from sin, and excite them to virtue, which he
never did for Adam in innocency, but laid him, in the
highest degree, under contrary disadvantages. God, as an
instance of his great favour, and fatherly love to man, since
the fall, has denied him the ease and pleasures of paradise,
which gratified and allured his senses, and bodily appe
tites ; that he might diminish his temptations to sin. And
as a still greater means to restrain from sin, and promote
virtue, has subjected him to labour, toil, and sorrow in the
world : and not only so, but as a means to promote his
spiritual and eternal good far beyond this, has doomed him
to death. When all this was found insufficient, he, in
further prosecution of the designs of his love, shortened
men's lives exceedingly, made them twelve or thirteen
times shorter than in the first ages. And yet this, with all
the innumerable calamities which God, in great favour fo
mankind, has brought on the world — whereby their tempta
tions are so vastly cut short, and the inducements to virtue
heaped one upon another to so great a degree— have proved
insufficient, now for so many thousand years together, to
restrain from wickedness in any considerable degree ; while
innocent human nature, all along, comes into the world
with the same purity and harmless dispositions that our
first parents had in paradise. What vast disadvantages
indeed then must Adam and Eve be in, who had no more
in their nature to keep them from sin, or incline them to
virtue, than their posterity, and yet were without all those
additional and extraordinary means ! They were not only
without such exceeding great means as we now have, when
our lives are made so very short, but had vastly less ad
vantages than their antediluvian posterity, who to prevent
their being wicked, and to make them good, had so much
labour and toil, sweat and sorrow, briers and thorns, with
a body gradually decaying and returning to the dust. Our
first parents had the extreme disadvantage of being placed
amongst many and exceeding great temptations — not only
without toil or sorrow, pain or disease, to humble and
mortify them, and a sentence of death to wean them from
the world, but — in the midst of the most exquisite and al
luring sensitive delights ; the reverse in every respect, and
the highest degree, of that most gracious state of requisite
means, and great advantages, which mankind now enjoy !
If mankind now, under these vast restraints, and great ad
vantages, are not restrained from general, and as it were
universal wickedness, how could it be expected that Adam
and Eve, created with no better hearts than men bring into
the world now, and destitute of all these advantages, and in
the midst of all contrary disadvantages, should escape it 7

180

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. I.

These things are not agreeable to Moses's account.
That represents a happy state of peculiar favours and
blessings before the fall, and the curse coming afterwards ;
but according to this scheme, the curse was before the fall,
and the great favours and testimonies of love followed the
apostacy. And the curse before the fall must be a curse
with a witness, being to so high a degree the reverse of
such means, means so necessary fop such a creature as in
nocent man, and in all their multitude and fulness proving
too little. Paradise therefore must be a mere delusion !
There was indeed a great show of favour, in placing man
in the midst of such delights. But this delightful garden,
it seems, with all its beauty and sweetness, was in its real
tendency worse than the apples of Sodom. It was but a
mere bait, (God forbid the blasphemy,) the more effectually
enticing by its beauty and deliciousness, to Adam's eternal
ruin. Which might be the more expected to be fatal to
him, seeing he was the first man, having no capacity supe
rior to his posterity, and wholly without the advantage of
their observations, experiences, and improvements.
I proceed now to take notice of an additional proof of
the doctrine we are upon, from another part of the Holy
Scripture. A very clear text for original righteousness
we have in Eccles. vii. 29. " Lo, this only have I found,
that God made man upright ; but they have sought out
many inventions."
It is an observation of no weight which Dr. T. makes on
this text, that the word man is commonly used to signify
mankind in general, or mankind collectively taken. It is
true, it often signifies the species of mankind; but then it
is used to signify the species, with regard to its duration
and succession from its beginning, as well as with regard to
its extent. The English word mankind is used to signify
the species : but what then 7 Would it be an improper
way of speaking, to say, that when God first made man
kind, he placed them in a pleasant paradise, (meaning in
their first parents,) but now they live in the midst of briers
and thorns 7 And it is certain, that to speak thus of God
making mankind — his giving the species an existence in
their first parents, at the creation— is agreeable to the
scripture use of such an expression. As m Deut. iv. 32.
" Since the day that God created man upon the earth."
Job xx. 4. " Knowest thou not this of old, since man was
placed upon the earth." Isa. xiv. 12. "1 have made the
earth, and created man upon it : I, even my hands, have
stretched out the heavens." Jer. xxvii. 5. '" I have mode
the earth, the man and the beast that are upon the ground,
by my great power." All these texts speak of God mak
ing man, signifying the species of mankind ; and yet they
all plainly have respect to God making man at first, when
he made the earth, and stretched out the heavens. In all
these places the same word, Adam, is used as in Eccle-
siastes ; and in the last of them, used with (he emphaticum)
the emphatic sign, as here ; though Dr. T. omits it, when
he tells us he gives us a catalogue of all the places in
Scripture where the word is used. And it argues nothing
to the Doctor's purpose, that the pronoun they is used ; —
they have sought out many inventions. This is properly
applied to the species, which God made at first upright ;
the species begun with more than one, and continued in a
multitude. As Christ speaks of the two sexes, in the rela
tion of man and wife, continued in successive generations ;
Matt. xix. 4. " He that made, them at the beginning, made
them male and female ;" having reference to Adam and Eve.
No less impertinent, and also very unfair, is his criticism
ori the word (*w») translated upright. Because the word
sometimes signifies right, he would from thence infer, that
it does not properly signify moral rectitude, even when
used to express the character of moral agents. He might
as well insist, that the English word upright, sometimes,
and in its most original meaning, signifies right up, or in
an erect posture, therefore it does not properly signify any
moral character, when applied to moral agents. And in
deed less unreasonably ; for it is known, that in the He
brew language, in a peculiar manner, most words used to
signify moral and spiritual things, are taken from external
and natural objects. The word (nw Jashar) is used, as
applied to moral agents, or to the words and actions of
* Making use of Buxtorf s Concordance, which, according to the author's

such, (if I have not misreckoned,*) about an hundred
and ten times in Scripture; and about an hundred of
them, without all dispute, to signify virtue, or moral
rectitude, (though Dr. T. is pleased to say, the word
does not generally signify a moral character),) and for the
most part it signifies true virtue, or virtue in such a sense,
as distinguishes it from all false appearances of virtue, or
what is only virtue in some respects, but not truly so in the
sight of God. It is used at least eighty times in this sense :
and scarce any word can be found in the Hebrew language
more significant of this. It is thus used constantly in
Solomon's writings, (where it is often found) when used to
express a character or property of moral agents. And it is
beyond all controversy, that he uses it in this place, (the
7th of Eccles.) to signify moral rectitude, or a character
of real virtue and integrity. For the wise man is speaking
of persons with respect to their moral character, inquiring
into the corruption and depravity of mankind, (as is con
fessed, p. 184.) and he here declares, he had not found
more than one among a thousand of the right stamp, truly
and thoroughly virtuous and upright : which appeared a ,
strange thing ! But in this text he clears God, and lays the
blame on man : >man was not made thus at first. He was
made of the right stamp, altogether good in his kind, (as
all other things were,) truly and thoroughly virtuous, as he
ought to be; but they have sought out many inventions.
Which last expression signifies things sinful, or morally
evil ; (as is confessed, p. 185.) And this expression, used to
signify those moral evils he found in man, which he sets in
opposition to the uprightness man was made in, shows,
that by uprightness he means the most true and sincere
goodness. The word rendered inventions, most naturally
and aptly signifies the subtile devices, and crooked deceit
ful ways, of hypocrites, wherein they are of a character con
trary to men of simplicity and godly sincerity ; who, though
wise in that which is good, are simple concerning evil.
Thus the same wise man, in Prov. xii. 2. sets a truly good
man in opposition to a man of wicked devices, whom God
will condemn. Solomon had occasion to observe many
who put on an artful disguise and fair show of goodness;
but on searching thoroughly, he found very few truly up
right. As he says, Prov. xx. 6. " Most men will proclaim
every one his own goodness : but a faithful man who can
find 7" So that it is exceeding plain, that by uprightness, in
this place, (Eccles. vii.) Solomon means true moral goodness.
What our author urges concerning many inventions,
whereas Adam's eating of the forbidden fruit was but one
invention, is of as little weight as the rest of what he says
on this text. For the many lusts and corruptions of man
kind, appearing in innumerable ways of sinning, are all
the consequence of that sin. The great corruption men are
fallen into by the original apostacy, appears in the multi
tude of the wicked ways to which they are inclined. And
therefore these are properly mentioned as the fruits and
evidences of the greatness of that apostacy and corruption.

SECT. II.
Concerning the kind of death, threatened to our first
parents, if they should eat of the forbidden fruit.
Dr. T. in his observations on the three first chapters of
Genesis says, (p. 7.) " The threatening to man in case
of transgression was, that he should surely die. — Death is
the losing of life. Death is opposed to life, and must be
understood according to the nature of that life, to which
it is opposed. Now the death here threatened can, with
any certainty, be opposed only to the life God gave Adam,
when he created him, (ver. 7.) Any thing besides this
must be pure conjecture, without solid foundation."
To this I would say ; it is true, Death is opposed to life,
and must be understood according to the nature of that life,
to which it is opposed. But does it therefore follow, that
nothing can be .meant by it but the loss of life 1 Misery is
opposed to happiness, and sorrow is in Scripture often
opposed to joy ; but can we conclude from thence, that
nothing is meant in Scripture by sorrow, but the loss of
joy? or that there is no more in misery, than the hss or
professed design, directs to all the places where the word is used.

Sect. II.

DEATH THREATENED TO OUR FIRST PARENTS.

181

absence of happiness 7 And if the death threatened to
Adam can, with certainty, be opposed only to the life
given to Adam, when God created him; I think, a state of
perfect, perpetual, and hopeless misery is properly op-
fosed to that state Adam was in, when God created him.
'or I suppose it will pot be denied, that the life Adam
had, was truly a happy life ; happy in perfect innocency,
in the favour of his Maker, surrounded with the happy
fruits and testimonies of his love. And I think it has
been proved, that he also was happy in a state of perfect
righteousness. Nothing is more manifest, than that it is
agreeable to a' very common acceptation of the word life,
in Scripture, that it be understood as signifying a state' of
excellent and happy existence. Now that which is most
opposite to that life and state in which Adam was created,
is a state of total, "confirmed wickedness, and perfect hope
less misery, under the divine displeasure and curse ; not
excluding' temporal death, or the destruction of the body,
as an introduction to it.
Besides, that which is much more evident, than any
thing Dr. T. says on this head, is, that the death which
was to come on Adam, as the punishment of his disobedi
ence, was opposed to that life, which he would have had '
as the reward of his obedience in case he had not sinned.
Obedience and disobedience are contraries ; the threaten
ings and promises which are sanctions of a law, are set in
direct opposition ; and the promises, rewards, and threat
ened punishments, are most properly taken as each others'
opposites. But none will deny, that the life which would
have been Adam's reward, if he had persisted in obedience,
was eternal life. And therefore we argue justly that the
death which stands opposed to that life, (Dr. T. himself
being judge, p. 120. S.) is manifestly eternal death, a
death widely different from the death we now die — to use
his own words'. If Adam, for his persevering obedience,
was to have had everlasting life and happiness, in perfect
holiness, union with his Maker, and enjoyment of his fa
vour, and this was the life which was to be confirmed by
the tree of life ; then, doubtless, the death threatened in
case of disobedience, which stands in direct opposition to
this, was an exposure to everlasting wickedness and misery,
in separation from God, and in enduring his wrath.
When God first made mankind, and made known
to them the methods of his moral government towards
them, in the revelation he made of himself to the natural
head of the whole species — and letting him know, that
obedience to him was expected, and enforcing his duty
with the sanction of a threatened punishment, called by
the name of death — we may with the greatest reason sup
pose, in such a case, that by death was meant the most
proper punishment of the sin of mankind, and which he
speaks of under that name throughout the Scripture, as
the proper wages of sin ; and this was always, from the
beginning, understood to be so in the church of God. It
would be strange indeed, if it should be otherwise. It
would have been strange, if, when the law of God was
first given, and enforced by the threatening of a punish
ment, nothing at all had been mentioned of that great
punishment, ever spoken of under the name of death — in
the revelations which he has given to mankind from age to
age — as the proper punishment of the sin of mankind.
And it would be no less strange, if when the punishment
which was mentioned and threatened on that occasion,
was called by the same name, even death, yet we must
not understand it to mean the same thing, but something
infinitely diverse, and infinitely more inconsiderable.
But now let us consider what that death is, which the
Scripture ever speaks of as the proper wages of sin, and
is spoken of as such by God's saints in all ages of the
church. I will begin with the New Testament. When
the ap&stle Paul says, (Rom. vi. 23.} " The wages of sin
is death," Dr. T. tells us, (p. 120. S.)that this means eter
nal death, the second death, a death widely different from
the death we now die. The same apostle speaks of
death as the proper punishment due for sin, Rom. vii. 5.
and chap. viii. 13. 2 Cor. iii. 7. 1 Cor. xv. 56. In all
* See p. 78. note on Rom. vii. 5. and note on ver. 6. Note on Rom. v. 20.
Note on Rom. vii. 8.
t By comparing what he says, p. 126. with what he often says of that
death and destruction which is the demerit and eira of personal sin, which
lie says is the second death or eterna^ destruction.

which places, Dr. T. himself supposes the apostle to in
tend eternal death.* And when the apostle James speaks
of death, as the proper reward, fruit, and end ot" sin,
(James i. 15.) " Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth
death ;" it is manifest, that our author supposes eternal
destruction to be meant.f And the apostle John, agree
ably to Dr. T.'s sense, speaks of the second death as that
which sin unrepented of will bring all men to at last.
Rev. ii. 11. xx. 6, 14. and xxi. 8. In the same sense the
apostle John uses the word in his first epistle, chap. iii. 14.
" We know that we have passed from death to life, be
cause we love the brethren. He that hateth his brother,
abideth in death." In the same manner Christ used the
word from time to time, when he was on earth, and spake
concerning the punishment of sin. John v. 24. " He that
heareth my word, and believeth, &c. hath everlasting life ;
and shall not come into condemnation ; but is passed from
death to life." Where, according to Dr. T.'s own way of
arguing, it cannot be the death which we now die, that
Christ speaks of, but eternal death, because it is set in
opposition to everlasting life. John vi. 50. " This is the
bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may
eat thereof, and not die." Chap. viii. 51. " Verily, verily,
I say unto you, if a man keep my saying, he shall never
see death." Chap. xi. 26. " And whosoever liveth and
believeth in me, shall never die." In which places it is
plain Christ does not mean that believers shall never see
temporal death. (See also Matt. x. 28. and Luke x. 28.)
In like manner, the word was commonly used by the pro
phets of old, when they spake of death as the proper end
and recompence of sin. So, abundantly by the prophet
Ezekiel. Ezek. iii. 18. " When I say unto the wicked
man, thou shalt surely die." In the original it is, Dying
thou shalt die : the same form of expression, which God
used in the threatening to Adam. We have the same words
again, chap, xxxiii. 18. — In chap, xviii. 4. it is said, " The
soul that sinneth it shall die."\ And that temporal death
is not meant in these places is plain, because it is pro
mised most absolutely, that the righteous shall not die the
.death spoken of. Chap, xviii. 21. " He shall surely live,
he shall not die." (So ver. 9, 17, 19, and 22. and chap. iii.
21.) And it is evident the prophet Jeremiah uses the
word in the same sense. Jer. xxxi. 30. " Every one shall
die for his own iniquity." And the same death is spoken
of by the prophet Isaiah. Isa. xi. 4. " With the breath of
his lips shall he slay the wicked." (See also chap. lxvi.
16. with ver. 24.) Solomon, who we must suppose was
thoroughly acquainted with the sense in which the word
was used by the wise, and by the ancients, continually
speaks of death as the proper fruit, issue, and recompence
of sin, using the world only in this sense. Prov. xi. 19.
" As righteousness tendeth to life, so he that pursueth evil
pursueth it to his own death." §' He cannot mean temporal
death, for he often speaks of it as a punishment of the
wicked, wherein the righteous shall certainly be distin
guished from them : as in Prov. xii. 28. " In the way of
righteousness is life, and in the path-way thereof is no
death." (So in chap. x. 2. xi. 4. xiii. 14. xiv. 27. and
many other places) But we find this same wise man ob
serves, that as to temporal death, and temporal events in
general, there is no distinction, but that they happen alike
to good and bad. (Eccl. ii. 4—16. viii. 14". and ix. 2, 3.)
His words are remarkable in Eccl. vii. 15. "There is a
just man that perisheth in his righteousness ; and there is
a wicked man that prolongeth his life, in his wickedness."
So we find, David in the book of Psalms uses the word
death in the same sense, when he speaks of it as the pro
per wages and issue of sin, Psal. xxxiv. 21. " Evil shall
slay the wicked." He speaks of it as a certain thing, Psal.
cxxxix. 19. " Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God."
And he speaks of it as a thing wherein the wicked are
distinguished from the righteous, Psal. lxix. 28. " Let
them be blotted out of the book of the living, and not be
written with the righteous."— And thus we find the word
death used in the Pentateuch, where we have the account
of the threatening of death to Adam. When, in these
t To the like purpose are chap. iii. 19, 20. and xviii. 4, 9, 13, 17—21, 24,
26.28. chap, xxxiii. 8, 9, 12— 14, 19. .
§ So chap. v. 5. 6, 23. vii. 27. viii. 36. ix. 18. x. 21. xi. 19. xiv. 12. xv. IS
xviii. 2J. xix. 16, 21. and xxiii. 13, 14.

182

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. 1.

books, it is spoken of as the proper fruit, and appointed
reward of sin, it is to be understood of eternal death.
Thus, Deut. xxx. 15. " See, I have set before thee this
day life, and good, and death, and evil." Ver. 19. " I call
heaven and earth to record this day against you, that 1
have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing."
The life that is spoken of here, is doubtless the same that
is spoken of in Lev. xviii. 5. " Ye shall therefore keep my
statutes and my judgments, which if a man do, he shall
live in them." This the apostle understands of eternal life ;
as is plain by Rom. x. 5. and Gal. iii. 12. But that the
death threatened for sin in the law of Moses meant eternal
death, is what Dr. T. abundantly declares. So in his note
on Rom. v. 20. (Par. p. 291.) " Such a constitution the
law of Moses was, subjecting those who were under it to
death for every transgression : meaning by death eternal
death." These are his words. The like he asserts in
many other places. When it is said, in the place now
mentioned, J have set before thee life and death, blessing
and cursing, without doubt, the same blessing and cursing
is meant which God had already set before tfiem with such
solemnity, in the 27th and 28th chapters ; where we have
the sum of the curses in those last words of the 27th
chapter, Cursed is every one, which confirmeth not all the
words of this law to do them. Which the apostle speaks
of as a threatening of eternal death ; and with him Dr. T.
himself;* In this sense also Job and his friends spake of
death, as the wages and end of sin, who lived before any
written revelation, and had their religion, and their
phraseology about religion, from the ancients.
If any should insist upon it as an objection — against
supposing that death was intended to signify eternal death
in the threatening to Adam — that this use of the word is
figurative : I reply, that though this should be allowed,
yet it is by no means so figurative as many other phrases
used in the history contained in these three chapters : as
when it is said, God said, Let there be light; God said,
Let there be a firmament, fyc. as though God spake such
words with a voice. So when it is said, God called the
light, day : God called the firmament, heaven, t)-c. God
rested on the seventh day ; as though he had been weary,
and then rested. And when it is said, They heard the
voice of God walking ; as though the Deity had feet, and
took steps on the ground. Dr. T. supposes, that when it
is said of Adam and Eve, Their eyes were opened, and they
saw that they were naked; by the word naked is meant 'a
state of guilt. (P. 12.) Which sense of the word, naked,
is much further from the common use of the word, than
the supposed sense of the word death. So this author
supposes the promise concerning the seed of the woman
bruising the serpent's head, while the serpent should bruise
his heel, is to be understood of the Messiah destroying the
power and sovereignty of the devil, and receiving some slight
hurt from him. (P. 15, 16.) Which makes the sentence
full of figures. And why might not God deliver threat
enings to our first parents in figurative expressions, as well
as promises ?
But indeed, there is no necessity of supposing the word
death, or the Hebrew word so translated, if used in the
manner that has been supposed, to have been figurative at
all. It does not appear but that this word, in it's true and
proper meaning, might signify perfect misery, and sensible
destruction ; though the word was also applied to signify
something more external and visible. There are many
words in our language, such as heart, sense, view, dis
covery, conception, light, and many others, which are ap
plied to signify external things ; as that muscular part of
the body called heart ; external feeling, called sense ; the
sight of the bodily eye, called view ; the finding of a thing
by its being uncovered, called discovery ; the first begin
ning of the foetus in the womb, called conception ; and the
rays ofthe sun, called light. Yet these words do as truly
and properly signify other things of a more spiritual inter
nal nature ; such as the disposition, affection, perception,
and thought of the mind, and manifestation and evidence
to the soul. Common use, which governs the propriety of -
language, makes the latter things to be as much signified
by those words, in their proper meaning, as the former. It
* Note on Rom. v. 20. Par. p. 291 —299.

is especially common in the Hebrew, and I suppose, other
Oriental languages, that the same word that signifies some
thing external, does no less properly and usually signify
something more spiritual. So the Hebrew words used for
breath, have such a double signification ; (nniPj) Neshama
signifies both breath and the soul ; and the latter as com
monly as the former : (mi) Ruach is used for breath or
wind, but yet more commonly signifies spirit. (y)ti)
Nephesh is used for breath, but yet more commonly sig
nifies soul. So the word (3_S or oS) Libh, heart, no less
properly signifies the soul, especially with regard to the
will and affections, than that part of the body so called.
The word (n"w ) Shalom, which we render peace, no less
properly signifies prosperity and happiness, than mutual
agreement. The word translated life, signifies the natural
life ofthe body, and also the perfect and happy state of sen
sible active being ; and the latter as properly as the former.
So the word death, signifies destruction, as to outward sensi
bility, activity, and enjoyment : but it has most evidently
another signification, which in the Hebrew tongue is no
less proper, viz. perfect, sensible, hopeless ruin ana misery.
It is therefore wholly without reason urged, that death
properly signifies only the loss of this present life ; and
that therefore nothing else was meant by that death which
was threatened for eating the forbidden fruit. Nor does it
at all appear but that Adam — who, from what God said
concerning the seed of the woman, could understand that
relief was promised as to the death which was threatened,
as Dr. T. himself supposes — understood the death which
was threatened, in the more important sense. Especially
seeing temporal death, considered originally and in itself,
is evermore, excepting as changed by divine grace, an
entrance into that dismal state of misery which is shadowed
forth by the awful circumstances of this death ; circum
stances naturally suggesting to the mind the most dread
ful state of hopeless, sensible ruin.
As to the objection, that the phrase, Dying thou shalt
die, is several times used in the books of Moses, to signify
temporal death, it can be of no force. For it has been
shown already, that the same phrase is sometimes used in
Scripture to signify eternal death, in instances much more
parallel with this. But indeed nothing can be certainly
argued concerning the nature of the thing intended, from
its being expressed in such a manner. For it is evident,
that such repetitions of a word in the Hebrew language,
are no more than an emphasis upon a word in the more
modern languages, to signify the great degree of a thing,
the importance or certainty of it, &c. When we would
signify and impress these, we commonly put an emphasis
on our words. Instead of this, the Hebrews, when they
would express a thing strongly, repeated or doubled the
word, the more to impress the mind of the hearer ; as may
be plain to every one in the least conversant with the
Hebrew Bible. The repetition in the threatening to Adam,
therefore, only implies the solemnity and importance of
the threatening. But God may denounce either eternal or
temporal death with perempto'riness and solemnity, and
nothing can certiinly be inferred concerning the nature of
the thing threatened, because it is threatened with emphasis,
more than this, that the threatening is much to be regarded.
Though it be true, that it might in an especial manner .be
expected that a threatening of eternal death would be de
nounced with great emphasis, such a threatening being in
finitely important, and to be regarded above all others.

SECT. III.
Wherein it is inquired, whether there be any thing in the
history of thi. three first chapters of Genesis, which
should lead us to suppose, that God, in his constitution
with Adam, dealt with mankind in general, as included
in their first father, and that the threatening of death,
in case he should eat the forbidden fruit, had respect not
only to him, but his posterity ?
Dr. T. rehearsing that threatening to Adam, Thou shalt
surely die, and giving us his paraphrase of it, (p. 7, 8.)

Sect. III.

ADAM A FEDERAL HEAD, &c.

concludes thus ; " Observe, here is not one word relating
to Adam's posterity." But it may be observed, in opposi
tion to this, that there is scarcely one word that we have
an account of, which God ever said to Adam or Eve, but
what does manifestly include their posterity in the meaning
and design of it. There is as much of a word said about
Adam's posterity in that threatening, as there is in those words
of God to Adam and Eve, Gen. i. 28. " Be fruitful, and
multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it ;" and as
much in events, to lead us to suppose Adam's posterity to
be included. There is as much of a word of his posterity
in that threatening, as in those words, (ver. 29.) " Behold,
I have given you every herb bearing seed, — and every tree
in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed," &c. Even
when God was about to Create Adam, what he said on
that occasion, had not respect only to Adam, but to his
posterity. Gen. i. 26. " Let us make man in our image,
and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea," &c.
And, what is more remarkable, there is as much of a word
said about Adam's posterity in the threatening of death, as
there is in that sentence, (Gen. iii. 19.) " Unto dust shalt
thou return." Which Dr. T. himself supposes to be a
sentence pronounced for the execution of that very threat
ening, Thou shalt surely die. This sentence he himself
also often speaks of as including Adam's posterity : and,
what is much more remarkable still, is a sentence which
Dr. T. himself often speaks of, as including his posterity,
as a sentence of condemnation, as a judicial sentence,
and a sentence which God pronounced with regard to
Adam's posterity, acting the part of a judge, and as
such condemning them to temporal death. — Though he is
therein utterly inconsistent with himself, inasmuch as he
at the same time abundantly insists, that death is not
brought on Adam's posterity in consequence of his sin, at all
as a punishment ; but merely by the gracious disposal of a
father, bestowing a benefit of the highest nature upon him.*
But I shall show, that I do not in any of these things
falsely charge or misrepresent Dr. T. — He speaks of the
sentence in chap. iii. 19. as pronounced in pursuance of
the threatening in the former chapter, in these words, (p.
17, 18.) " The sentence upon the man, ver. 17, 18, 1 9. first
affects the earth, upon which he was to subsist : the ground
should be encumbered with many noxious weeds, and the
tillage of it more toilsome : which would oblige the man
to procure a sustenance by hard labour, till he should die,
and drop into the ground, from whence he was taken.
Thus death entered by sin into the world, and man became
morta],-t/ according to the threatening in the former
chapter." Now, if mankind became mortal, and must
die, according to the threatening in the former chapter, then
doubtless the threatening in the former chapter, Thou shalt
die, had respect not only to Adam, but to mankind, and
included Adam's posterity. Yea, and Dr. T. is express in
it, and very often so, that the sentence concerning dropping
into the ground, or returning to the dust, did include
Adam's posterity. So, p. 20. speaking there of that sen
tence, " Observe (says he) that we their posterity are in
fact subjected to the same affliction and mortality, here by
sentence inflicted upon our first parents." — P. 42. Note.
" But yet men through that long tract, were all subject to
death, therefore they must be included in the sentence."
The same he affirms in innumerable other places, some of
which I shall have occasion to mention presently.
The sentence which is founded on the threatening, and
(as Dr. T. says) according to the threatening, extends to as
many as were included in the threatening, and to no more.
If the sentence be upon a collective subject, indefinitely,
the greatest part of which were not included in the threat
ening, nor were ever threatened at all, then certainly this
sentence is not according to the threatening, nor built upon
it. If the sentence be according to the threatening, then we
may justly explain the threatening by the sentence. And
if we find the sentence spoken to the same person whom
the threatening was spoken, and spoken in the second
person singular in like manner with the threatening, found
ed on the threatening, and according to it ;.. and if we find
the sentence includes Adam's posterity, then we may cer
tainly infer, that so did the threatening. And hence, that
« Page 27. S.

1G3
both the threatening and sentence were delivered to Adam
as the public head and representative of his posterity.
And we may also further infer from it, in another re
spect, directly contrary to Dr. T.'s doctrine,, that the
sentence which included Adam's posterity, was to death,
as a punishment to that posterity, as well as to Adam him
self. For a sentence pronounced in execution of a threat
ening, is for a punishment. Threatenings are of punish
ments. Neither God nor man are wont to threaten others
with favours and benefits.
But lest any of this author's admirers should stand to
it, that it may very properly be said, God threatened man
kind with bestowing great kindness upon them, I would
observe, that Dr. T. himself often speaks of this sentence
as pronounced by God on all mankind, as condemning
them ; as a sentence of condemnation judicially pronounced,
or a sentence which God pronounced on all mankind acting
as their judge, and in a judicial proceeding. This he af
firms in multitudes of places. In p. 20. speaking of this
sentence, which, he there says, subjects us, Adam's and
Eve's posterity, to affliction and mortality, he calls it a
judicial act of condemnation. " The judicial act of con
demnation (says he) clearly implies, a taking him to pieces,
and turning him to the ground from whence he was taken."
And (p. 28, 29. Note.) ' In all the Scripture from one
end to the other, there is recorded but one judgment to con
demnation, which came upon all men, and that is, Gen. iii.
17 — 19. Dust thou art," Sec. P. 40. speaking of the
same, he says, " All men are brought under condemnation."
In p. 27, 28. " By judgment, judgment to condemnation,
it appeareth evidently to me, he (Paul) means the being
adjudged to the forementioned death ; he means the sentence
of death, of a general mortality, pronounced upon mankind,
in consequence of Adam's first transgression. And the
condemnation inflicted by the judgment of God, answereth
to, and is in effect the same thing with, being dead." P.
30. " The many, that is mankind, were subject to death
by the judicial act of God." P. 31. " Being made sinners,
may very well signify, being adjudged, or condemned to
death. — For the Hebrew word, fkc. signifies to make one a
sinner by a judicial sentence, or to condemn." — P. 178.
Par. on Rom.' v. 19. " Upon the account of one man's dis
obedience, mankind were judicially constituted sinners;
that is, subjected to death, by the sentence of God the
Judge." — And there are many other places where he repeats
the same thing. And it is pretty remarkable, that (page
48, 49.) immediately after citing Prov. xvii. 15. " He
that justifieth the wicked, and he that condemneth the
just, are both an abomination to the Lord" — and when he
is careful in citing these words, to put us in mind, that it
is meant of a. judicial act — yet, in the very next words, he
supposes that God himself does so, since he constantly
supposes that Adam's posterity, whom God condemns, are
innocent. His words are these, " From all this it followeth,
that as the judgment, that passed upon all men to con
demnation, is death's coming upon all men, by the judicial
act of God, upon occasion of Adam's transgression : so,"
&c. — And it is very remarkable, that (p. 3, 4, 7. S.) he in
sists, " That in Scripture no action is said to be imputed,
reckoned, or accounted to any person for righteousness or
condemnation, but the proper act and deed' of that per
son." — And yet he thus continually affirms, that all man
kind are made sinners by a judicial act of God the Judge,
even to condemnation, and judicially constituted sinners,
and so subjected to a. judicial sentence of condemnation, on
occasion of Adam's sin ; and all according to the threat
ening denounced to Adam, " Thou shalt surely die :"
though he supposes Adam's posterity were not included'
in the threatening, and are looked upon as perfectly inno
cent, and treated wholly as such.
I am sensible Dr. T. does not run into all this incon
sistence, only through oversight and blundering ; but that
he is driven to it, to make out his matters in his evasion
of that noted paragraph in the fifth chapter of Romans ;
especially those three sentences; (ver. 16.) "The judg
ment was by one to condemnation." (ver. 18.) " By the
offence of one, judgment came upon all men to condem
nation ;" and (ver. 19.) "By one man's disobedience
1 The subsequent part of the quotation the reader will not meet with in
the third edition of Dr. T. but the second, of 1741.

184

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. I.

many were made sinners." And I am also sensible of
what he offers to salve the inconvenience, viz. " That if
the threatening had immediately been executed on Adam,
he would have had no posterity ; and that so far the pos
sible existence of Adam's posterity fell under the threaten
ing of the law, and into the hands of the judge, to be
disposed of as he should think fit : and that this is the
ground of the judgment to condemnation, coming upon
all men."* But this is trifling, to a great degree : for,
1. Suffering death, and failing of possible existence, are
entirely different things. If there had never been any
such thing as sin committed, there would have been in
finite numbers of possible beings, which would have failed
of existence, by God's appointment. God has appointed
(if the phiase be allowable) not to bring into existence
numberless possible worlds, each replenished with innu
merable possible inhabitants. But is this equivalent to
God's appointing them all to suffer death 7
2. Our author represents, that by Adam's sin, the possi
ble existence of his posterity fell into the hands of the
Judge, to be disposed of as he should think fit. But there
was no need of any sin of Adam, or of any body else, in
order to their being brought into God's hands, in this re
spect. The future possible existence of all created beings
is in God's hands, antecedently to the existence of any
sin. And therefore, infinite numbers of possible beings,
without any relation to Adam, or any other sinning being,
fail of their possible existence. And if Adam had never
sinned, yet it would be unreasonable to suppose, but that
innumerable multitudes of his possible posterity would
have failed of existence by God's disposal. For will any
be so unreasonable as to imagine, that God would and
must have brought into existence as many of his posterity
as it was possible should be, if he had not sinned 7 Or,
that then it would not have been possible, that any other
persons of his posterity should ever have existed, than those
individual persons who now actually suffer death, and re
turn to the dust 7
3. We have many accounts in Scripture, which imply
the actual failing of the possible existence of innumerable
multitudes of Adam's posterity, vea, of many more than
ever come into existence. As, of the possible posterity of
Abel, the possible posterity of all them that were destroy
ed by the flood, and the possible posterity of the innu
merable multitudes, which we read of in Scripture, de
stroyed by sword, pestilence, &c. And if the threatening
to Adam reached his posterity, in no other respect than
this, that they were liable to be deprived by it of their
possible existence, then these instances are much more
properly a fulfilment of that threatening, than the suffering
of death by such as actually come into existence ; and so
is that which is most properly the judgment to condemna
tion, executed by the sentence of the Judge, proceeding
on the ground of that threatening. But where do we ever
find this so represented in Scripture ? We read of multi
tudes cut off for their personal sins, who thereby failed of
their possible posterity. And these are mentioned as
God's judgments on them, and effects of God's condem
nation of them : but when are they ever spoken of as
God judicially proceeding against, and condemning their
possible posterity 7
4. Dr. T. in what he says concerning this matter, speaks
of the threatening of the law delivered to Adam, which
the possible existence of his posteritv fell under, as the
ground of the judgment to condemnation coming upon all
men. But herein he is exceeding inconsistent with him
self: for he affirms in a place forecited, that the Scripture
never speaks of any sentence of condemnation coming
upon all men, but that sentence in the third of Genesis,
concerning man turning to dust. But, according to him,
the threatening of the law delivered to Adam, could not
be the ground of that sentence; for he greatly insists
upon it, that that law was entirely abrogated before that
sentence was pronounced, hud no existence to have any
such influence as might procure a sentence of death ; and
therefore this sentence was introduced entirely on another
footing, a new dispensation of grace. The reader may
see this matter strenuously urged, and particularly argued
» Page 95. 90, 91. S.

by him, p. 113—120. S. So that this sentence could not,
according to him, have the threatening of that law for its
ground, as he supposes ; for it never stood upon that
ground, lt could not be called a judgment of condemna
tion, under any such view ; for it could not be viewed in
circumstances where it never existed.
5. If, as our author supposes, that the sentence of death
on all men comes under the notion of a judgment to con
demnation by this means, viz. that the threatening to
Adam was in some respect the ground of it ; then it also
comes under the notion of a punishment : for threatenings
annexed to breaches of laws, are to punishments ; and a
judgment of condemnation to the thing threatened, must
be to punishment; and the thing condemned to, must
have as much the notion of a punishment, as the sen
tence has the notion of a judgment to condemnation. But
this Dr. T. wholly denies : he denies that death comes as
any punishment at all ; but insists that it comes only as a
favour and benefit, and a fruit of fatherly love to Adam's
posterity, respected not as guilty, but wholly innocent.
So that his scheme will not admit of its coming under the
notion of a sentence to condemnation in any respect what
soever. Our author's supposition, that the possible ex
istence of Adam's posterity comes under the threatening
of the law, and into the hands of the Judge, and is the
ground of the condemnation of all men to death, implies,
that death by this sentence is appointed to mankind as an
evil, at least negatively so ; as it is a privation of good :
for he manifestly speaks of a non-existence as a negative
evil. But herein he is inconsistent with himself: for he
continually insists, that mankind are subjected to death
only as a benefit, as has been before shown. According to
him, death is not appointed to mankind, as a negative evil,
as any cessation of existence, or even diminution of good;
but on the contrary, as a means of a more happy existence,
and a great increase of good.
So that this evasion of Dr. T. is so far from helping the
matter, that it increases and multiplies the inconsistence.
And that the law, with the threatening of death annexed,
was given to Adam, as the head of mankind, and to his
posterity as included in him, not only follow from some of
our author's own assertions — and the plain, full declara
tions of the apostle in the fifth of Romans, which drove
Dr. T. into such gross inconsistencies — but the account
given in the three first chapters of Genesis, directly and
inevitably lead us to such a conclusion.
Though the sentence, Gen. iii. 19. "Unto dust thou
shalt return," be not of equal extent with the threatening
in the foregoing chapter, or an execution of the main curse
of the law therein denounced — for, that it should have
been so, would have been inconsistent with the intima
tions of mercy just before given — yet it is plain, this
sentence is in pursuance of that threatening, being to
something that was included in it. The words ofthe sen
tence were delivered to the same person with the words of
the threatening, and in the same manner, in like singular
terms, and as much without any express mention of his
posterity. Yet it manifestly appears by the consequence,
as well as all circumstances, that his posterity were in
cluded in the words of the sentence ; as is confessed on
all hands. And as the words were apparently delivered
in the form of the sentence of a judge, condemning for
something that he was displeased with, and ought to be
condemned, viz. sin ; and as the sentence to him and his
posterity was but one, dooming to the same suffering, un
der the same circumstances, both the one and the other
sentenced in the same words, spoken but once, and imme
diately to but one person, we hence justlv infer, that it was
the same thing to both ; and not as Dr. T. suggests, (p. 67.)
a sentence to a proper punishment to Adam, but a mere
promise of favour to his posterity.
Indeed, sometimes our author seems to suppose, that
God meant the thing denounced in this sentence, as a fa
vour both to Adam and his posteritv.f But to his pos
terity, or mankind in general, who are the main subject, he
ever insists, that it was purely intended as a favour. And
therefore, one would have thought, the sentence should
have been delivered, with manifestations and appearances
t Page 25, 45, 46. S.

Sect. III.

ADAM A FEDERAL HEAD, &c

185

\ of favour, and not of anger. How could Adam under
stand it as a promise of great favour, considering the man-
>. i, ner and circumstances ofthe denunciation 7 How could he
\ \ think, that God would go about to delude him, by cloth
ing himself with garments of vengeance, using words of
\displeasure and rebuke, setting forth the heinousness of
his crime, attended with cherubims and a flaming sword ;
when all that he meant was only higher testimonies of
favour than he had before in a state of innocence, and to
manifest fatherly love and kindness, in promises of great
blessings ? If this was the case, God's words to Adam
must be understood thus : " Because thou hast done so
wickedly, hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and
hast eaten of the tree of which I commanded thee, saying,
thou shalt not eat of it ; therefore I will be more kind to
thee than I was in thy state of innocence, and do now
appoint for thee the following great favours : Cursed be the
ground for thy sake," i]-c. And thus Adam must under
stand what was said, unless any will say, (and God forbid
that any should be so blasphemous,) that God clothed
himself with appearances of displeasure, to deceive Adam,
and make him believe the contrary of what he intended,
and lead him to expect a dismal train of evils on his pos
terity, contrary to all reason and justice, implying the most
horribly unrighteous treatment of millions of perfectly in
nocent creatures. It is certain, there is not the least ap
pearance in what God said, or the manner of it, as Moses
gives us the account, of any other, than that God was now
testifying displeasure, condemning the subject of the sen
tence he was pronouncing, as justly exposed to punish
ment for sin, and for that sin which he mentions.
When God was pronouncing this sentence, Adam doubt
less understood, that God had respect to his posterity, as
well as himself; though God spake wholly in the second
person singular, Because thou hast eaten, — In sorrow thou
shalt (at, — Unto the dust shalt thou return. But he had
as much reason to understand God as having respect to
his posterity, when he directed his speech to him in like
manner in the threatening, Thou shalt surely die. The sen
tence plainly refers to the threatening, and results from it.
The threatening says, If thou eat, thou shalt die : the sen
tence says, Because thou hast eaten thou shalt die. And
Moses, who wrote the account, had no reason to doubt
but that the affair would be thus understood by his read
ers ; for such a way of speaking was well understood in
those days : the history he gives us of the origin of things,
abounds with it. Such a manner of speaking to the heads
of the race, having respect to the progeny, is not only used
in almost every thing that God said to Adam and Eve, but
even in what he said to the very birds and fishes, Gen. i.
22. And also in what he said afterwards to Noah, Gen.
ix. to Shem, Ham, and Japheth, and Canaan, Gen. ix.
25 — 27. So in promises made to Abraham, God directed
his speech to him, and spake in the second person singular,
from time to time, but meant chiefly his posterity : To
thee will I giro this land. In thee shall all the families of
the earth be blessed, &c. &c. And in what is said of Isfi-
mael, as of his person, but meant chiefly of his posterity,
Gen. xvi. 12. and xvii. 20. Thus in what Isaac said to
Esau and Jacob, in his blessing he spake to them in the
second person singular; but meant chiefly their posterity.
And so for the most part in the promises made to Isaac
and Jacob ; and in Jacob blessing Ephraim and Manas-
seh, and his twelve sons.
But I shall take notice of one or two things further,
showing that Adam's posterity were included in God's
establishment with him, and the threatening denounced for
his sin ; and that the calamities which come upon them in
consequence of his sin, are brought on them as punishments.
This is evident from the curse on the ground ; which if
it be any curse at all, comes equally on Adam's posterity
with himself. And if it be a curse, then against whomso
ever it is designed, and on whomsoever it terminates, it
comes as a punishment, and not as a blessing, so far as it
comes in consequence of that sentence.
Dr. T. (p. 19.) says, " A curse is pronounced upon the
ground, but no curse upon the woman and the man."
And (p. 45, 46. S.) he insists, that the ground only was
cursed, and not the man : as though a curse could terminate
on lifeless, senseless earth ! To understand this curse other

wise than as terminating upon man through the ground,
would be as senseless as to suppose the meaning to be, The
ground shall be punished and shall be miserable for thy sake.
Our author interprets the curse on the ground) of its being
encumbered with noxious weeds : but would these weeds
have been any curse on the ground, if there had been no
inhabitants, or if the inhabitants had been of such a nature,
that these weeds should not have been noxious, but useful
to them ? It is said, Deut. xxviii. 17. " Cursed shall be
thy basket, and thy store :" and would he not be thought
to talk very ridiculously, who should say, " Here is a curse
upon the basket ; but not a word of any curse upon the
owner : and therefore we have no reason at all to look
upon it as any punishment upon him, or any testimony of
God's displeasure towards him." How plain is it, that
when lifeless things, not capable either of benefit or suffer
ing, are said to be cursed or blessed with regard to sensible
beings — who use or possess these things, or have con
nexion with them — the meaning must be, that these sensi
ble beings are cursed or blessed in the other, or with re
spect to them ! In Exod. xxiii. 25. it is said, " He shall
bless thy bread and thy water." And I suppose, never
any body yet proceeded to such a degree of subtilty in
distinguishing, as to say, " Here is a blessing on the bread
and the water, which went into the possessor's mouth, but
no blessing on him." To make such a distinction, with
regard to the curse God pronounced on the ground, would
in some respects be more unreasonable ; because God is
express in explaining the matter, declaring that it was for
man's soke, expressly referring this curse to him, as being
for the sake of his guilt ; and as consisting in the sorrow
and suffering he should have from it : " In sorrow shalt
thou eat of it. — Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to
thee." So that God's own words tell us where the curse
terminates. The words are parallel with those in Deut.
xxviii. 16. but only more plain and explicit, " Cursed shalt
thou be in the field, or in the ground."
If this part of the sentence was pronounced under no
notion of any curse or punishment at all upon mankind,
but, on the contrary, as making an alteration for the better,
as to them — that instead of the sweet, but tempting, per
nicious fruit of paradise, it might produce wholesome fruits,
more for the health of the soul ; that it might bring forth
thorns and thistles, as excellent medicines, to prevent or
cure moral distempers, diseases which would issue in
eternal death — then it was a blessing on the ground, and not
a curse ; and it might more properly have been said,
" Blessed shall the ground be for thy sake. — I will make
a happy change in it, that it may be a habitation more fit
for a creature so infirm, and so apt to be overcome with
temptation, as thou art."
The event makes it evident, that in pronouncing this
curse, God had as much respect to Adam's posterity, as
to himself. And so it was understood by his pious pos
terity before the flood ; as appears by what Lamech, the
father of Noah, says, Gen. v. 29. " And he called his name
Noah; saying, This same shall comfort us concerning our
work, and the toil of our hands, because of the ground
which the Lord hath cursed."
Another thing which argues, that Adam's posterity were
included in the threatening of death — and that our first
parents understood, when fallen, that the tempter, in per
suading them to eat the forbidden fruit, had aimed at the
punishment and ruin of both them and their posterity, and
had procured it — is Adam immediately giving his wife that
new name, Eve or Life, on the promise or intimation of
the disappointment and overthrow of the tempter in that
matter, by her seed. This Adam understood to be by his
procuring life; not only for themselves, but for many of
their posterity ; and thereby delivering them from that death
and ruin which the serpent bad brought upon them.
Those that should be thus delivered, and obtain life,
Adam calls the living. And because he observed, by what
God had said, that deliverance, or life, was to be by the
seed of the woman, he therefore remarks, that she is the
mot/ier of all living, and thereupon gives her a new name,
nin life. Gen. iii. 20.
There is a great deal of evidence, that this is the occa
sion of Adam giving his wife her new name. This was her
new honour, and the greatest honour, at least in her pre-

186

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. I.

sent state, that the Redeemer was to be of her seed. New
names were wont to be given for something that was the
person's peculiar honour. So it was with regard to the
new names of Abraham, Sarah, and Israel. Dr. T. him
self observes,* that they who are saved by Christ, are
called, (o< f-vrer, 2 Cor. iv. 11.) the living or they that live.
Thus we find in the Old Testament, the righteous are
called by the name of the living, Psal. lxix. 28. " Let
them be blotted out of the book of the living, and not be
written with the righteous." If what Adam meant by her
being the mother of all living, was only her being the
mother of mankind ; and gave her the name life upon that
account; it were much the most likely that he would have
given her this name at first ; when God first united them,
under that blessing, be fruitful and multiply, and when he
had a prospect of her being the mother of mankind in a
state of immortality, living indeed, living and never dying.
But that Adam should at that time give her only the name
of (nv>ci) Isha, and then immediately on that melancholy
change, by their coming under the sentence of death, with
all their posterity — having now a new awful prospect of
her being the mother of nothing but a dying race, all from
generation to generation turning to dust, through her folly
— he should change her name into life, calling her now the
mother of all living, is (on that supposition) perfectly un
accountable. Besides, it is manifest, that it was not her
being the mother of all mankind— or her relation, as a
mother, to her posterity — but the quality of those of whom
she was to be the mother, Adam had in view, in giving
his wife this new name ; as appears by the name itself,
which signifies Vfe. And if it had been only a natural
and mortal life he had in view, this was nothing to dis
tinguish her posterity from the brutes ; for the very same
name of living ones, or living things, is given from time to
time to-i/iem.-f Besides, if by life the quality of her pos
terity was not meant, there was nothing in it to distinguish
her from Adam ; for thus she was no more the mother of
all living, than he was the father of all living; and she
could no more properly be called by the name of life on
any such account, than he : but names are given for dis
tinction. Doubtless Adam took notice of something dis
tinguishing concerning her, that occasioned his giving her
this new name. And 1 think it is exceeding natural to
suppose, that as Adam had given her the first name from
the manner of her creation, so he gave her the new name
from redemption, and as it were new creation, through a
Redeemer, of her seed. And, it is equally probable, that
he should give her this name from that which comforted
him, with respect to the curse that God had pronounced
on him and the earth, as Lamech named Noah, Gen. v. 29.
" Saying, this same shall comfort us concerning our work,
and toil of our hands, because of the ground which the Lord
hath cursed." Accordingly he gave her this new name,
not at her first creation, but immediately after the promise
of a Redeemer. (See Gen. iii. 15— 20.)
Now, as to the consequence which I infer from Adam
iving his wife this name, on the intimation which God
ad given — that Satan should by her seed be overthrown
and disappointed, as to his malicious design in tempting
the woman — it is, that great numbers of mankind should
be saved, whom he calls the living ; they should be saved
from the effects of this malicious design of the old serpent,
and from that ruin which he had brought upon them by
tempting their first parents to sin ; and so the serpent
would be, with respect to them, disappointed and over
thrown in his design. But how is any death, or indeed
any calamity at all, brought upon their posterity by Satan's
malice in that temptation, if instead of that, all the conse
quent death and sorrow was the fruit of God's fatherly
love ? an instance of his free and sovereign favour 7 And
if multitudes of Eve's posterity are saved from either spi
ritual or temporal death, by a Redeemer, one of her seed,
how is that any disappointment of Satan's design, in tempt
ing our first parents r How came he to have any such
thing in view, as the death of Adam's and Eve's posterity,
by tempting them to sin, or any expectation that their
death would be the consequence, unless he knew that they
were included in the threatening 7
• Note annexed to § 287.

I

Some have objected, against his posterity being included
in the threatening delivered to Adam, that the threatening
itself was inconsistent with his having ant/ posterity : it
being that he should die on the day that he sinned. To
this I answer, that the threatening- was not inconsistent
with his having posterity, on two accounts :
I. Those words, In the day thou eatest thereof thou shall,
surely die, according to the use of such like expressions
among the Hebrews, do not signify immediate death, or
that the execution shall be within twenty-four hours from
the commission of the fact ; nor did God by those words
limit himself as to the time of executing the threatened
punishment ; but that was still left to God's pleasure.
Such a phrase, according to the idiom of the Hebrew
tongue, signifies no more than these two things :
1 . A real connexion between the sin and the punish
ment. So Ezek. xxxiii. 12, 13. " The righteousness of
the righteous shall not deliver him in the day of his trans
gression. As for the wickedness of the wicked, he shall
not fall thereby in the day that he turneth from his wicked
ness : neither shall the righteous be able to live in the day
that he sinneth : but for his iniquity that he hath commit
ted, he shall die for it." Here it is said, that in the day he
sinneth, he shall not be able to live, but he shall die ; not
signifying the time when death shall be executed upon
him, but the connexion between his sin and death ; such a
connexion as in our present common use of language is
signified by the adverb of time, when ; as if one should
say, " According to the laws of our nation, so long as a
man behaves himself as a good subject, he may live; but
when he turns rebel, he must die :" not signifying the
hour, day, or month, in which he must be executed, but
only the connexion between his crime and death.
2. Another thing which seems to be signified by such
an expression, is, that Adam should be exposed to death
by one transgression, without waiting to try him the second
time. If he eat of that tree, he should immediately fall
under condemnation, though afterwards he might abstain
ever so strictly. In this respect the words are much of
the same force with those words of Solomon to Shimei;
1 Kings ii. 37. " For it shall be that on the day that thou
goest out, and passest over the brook Kidron, thou shalt
know for certain, that thou shalt surely die." Not mean
ing, that he should certainly be executed on that day, but
that he should be assuredly liable to death for the first
offence, and that he should not have another trial to see
whether he would go over the brook Kidron a second
time. — Besides,
II. If the words had implied, that Adam should die
that very day (within twenty-four or twelve hours) or that
moment in which he transgressed, yet it will by no means
follow, that God obliged himself to execute the punish
ment in its utmost extent on that day. The sentence was
in great part executed immediately ; he then died spiritu
ally ; he lost his innocence and original righteousness,
and the favour of God ; a dismal alteration was made in
his soul, by the loss of that holy divine principle, which
was in the highest sense the life of the soul. In this he
was truly ruined and undone that very day ; becoming
corrupt, miserable, and helpless. And I think it has been
shown, that, such a spiritual death was one great thing
implied in the threatening. And the alteration then made
in his body and external state, was the beginning of tem
poral death. Grievous external calamity is called by the
name of death in Scripture, Exod. x. 17. — " Entreat the
Lord that he may take away this death." Not only was
Adam's soul ruined that day, but his body was ruined ;
it lost its beauty and vigour, and became a poor, dull,
decaying, dying thing.
And besides all this, Adam was that day undone in a
more dreadful sense ; he immediately fell under the curse
of the law, and condemnation to eternal perdition. In the
language of Scripture, he is dead, that is, in a state of con
demnation to death; even as our author often explains
this language in his exposition upon Romans. In scrip
ture language, he that believes in Christ, immediately
receives life. He passes at that time from death to life,
and thenceforward (to use the apostle John's phrase) " has
t As in Gen. i. 21, 24, 28. Chap. ii. 19. Chap. vi. 19. vii. 23. and viii. 1.
and many other places in the Bible.

Sect. III.

ADAM A FEDERAL HEAD, &c.

187.

eternal life abiding in him." But yet, he does not then
receive eternal life in its highest completion ; he has but
the beginning of it ; and receives it in a vastly greater de
gree at death. The proper time for the complete fulness,
is not till the day of judgment. When the angels sinned,
their punishment was immediately executed in a degree ;
but their full punishment is not till the end of the world.
And there is nothing in God's threatening to Adam that
bound him to execute his full punishment at once; nor
any thing which determines, that he should have no pos
terity. The constitution which God established and de
clared, determined, that if he sinned, and had posterity,
he and they should die. But there was no constitution
determining the actual being of his posterity in this case ;
what posterity he should have, how many, or whether any
at all. All these things God had reserved in his own
power : the law and its sanction intermeddled not with the
matter. It may be proper in this place also to take some notice
of that objection of Dr. T. against Adam being supposed
to be a federal head for his posterity, that it gives him
greater honour than Christ, as it supposes that all his pos
terity would have had eternal life by his obedience, if he
had stood ; and so a greater number would have had the
benefit of his obedience, than are saved by Christ.* — I
think, a very little consideration is sufficient to show, that
there is no weight in this objection. For the benefit of
Christ's merit may nevertheless be vastly beyond that
which would have been by the obedience of Adam. For
those that are saved by Christ, are not merely advanced to
happiness by his merits, but saved from the infinitely
dreadful effects of Adam's sin, and many from immense
gujlt, pollution, and misery, by personal sins. They are
also brought to a holy and happy state through infinite ob
stacles; and exalted to a far greater degree of dignity,
felicity, and glory, than would have been due for Adam's
obedience ; for aught I know, many thousand times so
great. And there is enough in the gospel-dispensation,
clearly to manifest the sufficiency of Christ's merits for
such effects in all mankind. And how great the number
will be, that shall actually be the subjects of them, or how
great a proportion of the whole race, considering the vast
success of the gospel that shall be in that future, extraor
dinary, and glorious season, often spoken of, none can tell.
And the honour of these two federal heads arises not so
much from what was proposed to each for his trial, as from
their success, and the good actually obtained ; and also
the manner of obtaining. Christ obtains the benefits men
have through him by proper merit of condignity, and a true
purchase by an equivalent ; which would not have been
the case with Adam if he had obeyed.
I have now particularly considered ths account which
Moses gives us, in the beginning of the Bible, of our first
parents, and God's dealings with them ; the constitution he
established with them, their transgression, and what fol
lowed. And on the whole, if we consider the manner in
which God apparently speaks to Adam from time to time;
and particularly, if we consider how plainly and undeniably
his posterity are included in the sentence of death pro
nounced on him after his fall, founded on the foregoing
threatening; and consider the curse denounced on the ground
for his sake, for his sorrow, and that of his posterity ; and
also consider, what is evidently the occasion of his giving
his wife the new name of Eve, and his meaning in it — and
withal consider apparent fact in constant and universal
events, with relation to the state of our first parents and
their posterity from that time forward, through all ages of
the world — I cannot but think, it must appear to every im
partial person, that Moses's account does, with sufficient
evidence, lead all mankind, to whom his account is com
municated, to understand, that God, in his constitution
with Adam, dealt with him as a public person — as the head
ofthe human species — and had respect to his posterity, as
included in him. And it must appear, that this history is
given by divine direction, in the beginning of the first writ
ten revelation, in order to exhibit to our view the origin of
the present sinful, miserable state of mankind, that we might
see what that was, which first gave occasion for all those
* Page 120, &c. S.

consequent wonderful dispensations of divine mercy and
grace towards mankind, which are the great subject of the
Scriptures, both of the Old and New Testament ; and that
these things are not obscurely and doubtfully pointed
forth, but delivered in a plain account of things, which
easily and naturally exhibits them to our understandings.

CHAP. II.
OBSERVATIONS ON OTHER PARTS OF THE HOLY SCRIP
TURES, CHIEFLY IN THE OLD TESTAMENT, THAT PROVE
THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN.
Original depravity may well be argued, from wicked
ness being often spoken of in Scripture, as a thing belong
ing to the race of mankind, and as if it were a property of the
species. So in' Psal. xiv. 2, 3. " The Lord looked down
from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were
any that did understand, and seek God. They are all gone
aside ; they are altogether become filthy : there is none
that doeth good ; no, not one." The like we have again,
Psal. liii. 2, 3.— Dr. T. says, (p. 104, 105.) " The Holy
Spirit does not mean this of every individual ; because in
the very same psalm, he speaks of some that were
righteous, ver. 5. God is in the generation of the righteous."
But how little is this observation to the purpose 7 For
who ever supposed, that no unrighteous men were ever
changed by divine grace, and afterwards made righteous 7
The psalmist is speaking of what men are as they are the
children of men, born ofthe corrupt human race; and not
as born of God, whereby they come to be the children of
God, and of the generation of the righteous. The apostle
Paul cites this place in Rom. iii. 10 — 12. to prove the
universal corruption of mankind ; but yet in the same
chapter he supposes the same persons spoken of as wicked,
may become righteous, through the righteousness and grace
of God.
Wickedness is spoken of in other places in the book of
Psalms, as a thing that belongs to men, as of the human
race, as sons of men. Thus, in Psal. iv. 2. " O ye sons of
men, how long will ye turn my glory into shame ? How
long will ye love vanity ? " &c. Psal. lvii. 4. " I lie among
them that are set on fire, even the sons of men, whose teeth
are spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword."
Psal. lviii. 1, 2. " Do ye indeed speak righteousness, O
congregation ? Do ye judge uprightly, 0 ye sons of men ?
Yea, in heart ye work wickedness ; ye weigh out the
violence of your hands in the earth." Our author men
tioning these places, says, (p. 105. note,) " There was a
strong party in Israel disaffected to David's person and
government, and sometimes he chooseth to denote them by
the sons or children of men." But it would have been
worth his while to have inquired, Why the psalmist should
choose to denote the worst men in Israel by this name?
Why he should choose thus to disgrace mankind, as if the
compellation of sons of men most properly belonged to such
as were of the vilest character, and as if all the sons of
men, even every one of them, were of such a character,
and none of them did good ; no, not one 7 Is it not strange,
that the righteous should not be thought worthy to be call
ed sons of men, and ranked with that noble race of beings,
who are born into the world wholly right and innocent 7 It
is a good, easy, and natural reason, why he chooseth to call
the wicked, sons of men, as a proper name for them, That
by being of the sons of men, or of the corrupt, ruined race
of mankind, they come by their depravity. And the
psalmist himself leads us to this very reason, Psal. lviii.
" Do ye judge uprightly, O ye sons of men ? yea, in heart
ye work wickedness, ye weigh out the violence of your
hands. The wicked are estranged from the womb," &c.
Of which I shall speak more by and by.
Agreeable to these places is Prov. xxi. 8. " The way of
man is froward and strange ; but as for the pure, his work
is right." He that is perverse in his walk, is here called
by the name of man, as distinguished from the pure :

188

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part II.

which I think is absolutely unaccountable, if all mankind
by nature are pure, and perfectly innocent, and all such as
are froward and strange in their ways, therein depart from
the native purity of all mankind. The words naturally
lead us to suppose the contrary ; that depravity and per-
verseness properly belong to mankind as they are naturally,
and that a being "made pure, is by an after-work, by which
some are delivered from native pollution, and distinguished
from mankind in general : which is perfectly agreeable to
the representation in Rev. xiv. 4. where we have an account
of a number that were not defiled, but were pure, and
followed the Lamb ; of whom it is said, " These were re
deemed from among men."
To these things agree Jer. xvii. 5, 9. In ver. 5. it is
said, " Cursed is he that trusteth in man." And in ver. 9.
this reason is given, " The heart is deceitful above all
things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?"
What heart is this so wicked and deceitful ? Why, evi
dently the heart of him, who, it was said before, we must
not trust ; and that is man. It alters not the case as to
the present argument, whether the deceitfulness of the
heart here spoken of, be its deceitfulness to the man him
self, or to others. So Eccl. ix. 3. " Madness is in the
heart of the sons of men, while they live." And those
words of Christ to Peter, Matt. xvi. 23. " Get thee behind
me, Satan — for thou savourest not the things that be of
God, but the things that be of men. Signifying plainly,
that to be carnal and vain, and opposite to what is spiritual
and divine, is what properly belongs to men in their present
state. The same thing is supposed in that of the apostle,
1 Cor. iii. 3. " For ye are yet carnal. For whereas there
is among you envying and strife, are ye not carnal, and
walk as men?" And that in Hos. vi. 7. " But they, like
men, have transgressed the covenant." To these places
may be added Matt. vii. 11. " If ye being evil, know how
to give good gifts." Jam. iv. 5. " Do ye think that the
scripture saith in vain, the spirit that dwelteth in us, lusteth
to envy?" — 1 Pet. iv. 2. " That he no longer should live
the rest of his time in the lusts of men, but to the will of
God." — Yet above all, that in Job xv. 16. " Hov, much
more abominable and filthy is man, who drinketh iniquity
like water ?" Of which .more presently.
Now what account can be given of these things, on Dr.
T.'s scheme ? How strange is it, that we should have such
descriptions, all over the Bible, of max, and the sons of
men I Why should man be so continually spoken of as
evil, carnal, perverse, deceitful, and desperately wicked, if
all men are by nature as perfectly innocent, and free from
any propensity to evil, as Adam was the first moment of
his creation, all made right, as our author would have us
understand Eccl. vii. 29. ? Why, on the contrary, is it not
said, at least as often, and with equal reason, that the heart
of man is right and pure ; that the way of man is innocent
and holy ; and that he who savours true virtue Yind wisdom,
savours the things that be of men? Yea, and why might it
not as well have been said, the Lord looked down from
heaven on the sons of men, to see if there were any that did
understand, and did seek after God; and they were all
right, altogether pure, there was none inclined to do wicked
ness, no, not one T
Of the like import with the texts mentioned are those
which represent wickedness as what properly belongs to
the world ; and that they who are otherwise, are saved
from the world, and called out of it. As John vii. 7. " The
world cannot hate you ; but me it hateth ; because I
testify of it, that the works thereof are evil." Chap. viii.
23. " Ye are of this world: I am not of this world."
Chap. xiv. 17. " The spirit of truth, whom the world
cannot receive ; because it seeth him not, neither knoweth
him: but ye know him." Chap. xv. 18, 19. "If the
world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated
you. If ye were of the world, the world would love its
own : but because ye are not of the world, but I have
chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth
you." Rev. xiv. 3, 4. " These are they which were re
deemed from the earth, — redeemed from among men."
* To the like purpose is chap. iii. 3. and Deut. xi. 18. where this word is
used. t A word of the same root is used to signify a young child, or a little
child, in the following places ; 1 Sam. i. 24, 25, "27. 1 Kings iii. 7. and xi. 17.

John xvii. 9. " I pray not for the world, but for them
which thou hast given me." Ver. 14. " I have given them
thy word ; and the world hath hated them, because they
are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.
1 John iii. 13- " Marvel not, my brethren, if the world
hate you." Chap. iv. 5. " They are of the world, therefore
speak they of the world, and the world heareth them."
Chap. v. 19. " We are of God, and the whole world lieth
in wickedness." It is evident, that in these places, by the
world is meant the world of mankind ; not the habitation,
but the inhabitants : for, it is the world spoken of as
loving, hating, doing evil works, speaking, hearing, &c.
The same thing is shown, when wickedness is often
spoken of as being man's own, in contradistinction from
virtue and holiness. So men's lusts are often called their
own hearts' lusts, and their practising wickedness is called
walking in their own ways, walking in their own coun
sels, in the imagination of their own heart, and in the
sight of their own eyes, according to their own devices,
&c. These things denote wickedness to be a quality be
longing properly to the character and nature of mankind
in their present state : as, when Christ would represent
that lying is remarkably the character and the very nature
of the devil in his present state, he expresses it thus, John
viii. 44. " When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his
own : for he is a liar, and the father of it."
And that wickedness belongs to the very nature of men
in their present state, may be argued from those places
which speak of mankind as being wicked in their child
hood, or from their childhood. So Prov. xxii. 15. " Fool
ishness is bound in the heart of a child ; but the rod of
correction shall drive it far from him." Nothing is more
manifest, than that the wise man in this book continually
uses the word folly, or foolishness, for wickedness ; and
that this is what he means in this place, the words them
selves explain. For the rod of correction is proper to
drive away no other foolishness, but that which is of a
moral nature. The word rendered bound, signifies (as ob
served in Pool's Synopsis) a close and firm union. The
same word is used in chap. vi. 21. " Bind them continu
ally upon thine heart." And chap. vii. 3. " Bind them
upon thy fingers, write them upon the table of thine heart."*
The same verb is used, 1 Sam. xviii. 1. " The soul of
Jonathan was knit, or bound, to the soul of David, and
Jonathan loved him as his own soul." — But how comes
wickedness to be so firmly bound, and strongly fixed, in
the hearts of children, if it be not there naturally ? They
have had no time firmly to fix habits of sin, by long
custom in actual wickedness, as those who have lived
many years in the world.
The same thing is signified in that noted place, Gen.
viii. 21. " For the imagination of man's heart is evil, from
his youth." It alters not the case, whether it be translated
for or though the imagination of man's heart is evil from
his youth, as Dr. T. would have it. The word translated
youth, signifies the whole of the former part of the age of
man, which commences from the beginning of life. The
word in its derivation, has reference to the birth or begin
ning of existence. It comes from (1JH) a word to shake
off, as a tree shakes off its ripe fruit, or a plant its seed ;
the birth of children being commonly represented by a
tree yielding fruit, or a plant yielding seed. So that the
word here translated youth, comprehends not only what
we in English most commonly call the time of youth, but
also childhood and infancy, and is very often used to
signify these latter.f
Dr. T. says, (p. 124. note,) that he " conceives,./rom the
youth, is a phrase signifying the greatness or long duration
of a thing. But if by long duration he means any thing
else than what is literally expressed, viz. from the begin
ning of life, he has no reason to conceive so, neither has
what he offers so much as the shadow of a reason for his
conception. There is no appearance in the words of the
two or three texts he mentions, of their meaning any thing
else than what is most literally signified. And it is cer
tain, that what he suggests is not the ordinary import of
2 Kings ii. 23. Job xxxiii. 25. Prov. xxii. 6. xxiii. 13. and xxix. 21. Isa. x.
19. xi. 6. and lxv. 20. Hos. xi. 1. The same word is used to signify an in
fant, in Exod. ii. 6. and x. 9. Judg. xiii. 5, 7, 8, 24. 1 Sam. i. 22. and iv. 21,
2 Kings v. 14. Isa. vii. 16. and viii. 4.

Chap. II.

TEXTS CHIEFLY OF THE OLD TESTAMENT, &c.

189

such a phrase among the Hebrervs ; but that thereby is
meant from tlie beginning, or the early time of life, or ex
istence ; as may be seen in the places following, where the
same word in the Hebrew is used, as in the eighth of
Genesis. 1 Sam. xii. 2. " I am old and grey-headed—
and I have walked before you from my childhood unto
this day." Ps. lxxi. 5, 6. "Thou art my trust from my
youth : by thee have I been holden up from the womb.
Thou art he that took me out of my mother's bowels." (Ver.
17, 18.) " O God, thou hast taught me from my youth;
and hitherto have I declared thy wondrous works : now
also, when I am old and grey-headed, forsake me not."
Ps. cxxix. 1, 2. " Many a time have they afflicted me
from my youth, may Israel now say : many a time have
they afflicted me from my youth ; yet have they not pre
vailed against me." Isa- xlvii. 12. " Stand now with the
multitude of thy sorceries, wherein thou hast laboured
from thy youth." (So also ver. 15.) 2 Sam. xix. 7.
"That will be worse unto thee, than all the evil that befell
thee./iwfl thy youth until now." Jer. iii. 24, 25. " Shame
hath devoured the labour of our fathers, from our youth.
— We have sinned against the Lord our God from our
youth,-even to this day."*
And it is to be observed, that according to the man
ner of the Hebrew language, when it is said, such a thing
has been from youth, or the first part of existence, the
phrase is to be understood as including that first time of
existence. So Josh. vi. 21. " They utterly destroyed all,
from the young to the old," (so in the Hebrew,) i. e. in
cluding both. (So Gen. xix. 4. and Esther iii. 13.)
And as mankind are represented in Scripture, as being
of a wicked heart from their youth, so in other places they
are spoken of as being thus from the womb. Psal. lviii. 3.
" The wicked are estranged from the womb : they go
astray as soon as they be born, speaking lies." It is ob
servable, that the psalmist mentions this as what belongs to
the wicked, as the sons of men : for, these are the pre
ceding words ; " Do ye judge uprightly, O ye sons of
men? Yea, in heart ye work wickedness."f Then it
follows, the wicked are estranged from the womb, &c.
The next verse is, their poison is like the poison of a serpent.
Serpents are poisonous as soon as they come into the
world ; they derive a poisonous nature by their genera
tion. Dr. T. fp. 134, 135.) says, " It is evident that this
is a scriptural figurative way of aggravating wickedness
on the one hand, and of signifying early and settled habits
of virtue on the other, to speak of it as being from the
womb." And as a probable instance of the latter, he cites
that in Isa. xlix. 1 . " The Lord hath called me from the
Womb ; from the bowels of my mother hath he made
mention of my name" But I apprehend, that in order
to seeing this to be either evident or probable, a man
must have eyes peculiarly affected. I humbly conceive that
such phrases as that in the 49th of Isaiah, of God's calling
the prophet from the womb, are evidently not of the im
port which hie supposes ; but mean truly from the begin
ning of existence, and are manifestly of like signification
with that which is said ofthe prophet Jeremiah, Jer. i. 5.
" Before I formed thee in the belly, I knew thee : before
thou earnest out of the womb, I sanctified thee, and ordain
ed thee a prophet unto the nations." Which surely means
something else besides a high degree of virtue : it plainly
signifies that he was, from his first existence, set apart by
God for a prophet. And it would be as unreasonable to
understand it otherwise, as to suppose the angel meant
any other than that Samson was set apart to be a Nazarite
from the beginning of his life, when he says to his mother,
" Behold, thou shalt conceive and bear a son : and now
drink no wine, nor strong drink, &c. For the child shall
be a Nazarite to God], from the womb, to the day of his
death." By these instances it is plain, that the phrase,
from the womb, as the otiose, from the youth, as used in
Scripture, properly signifies from the beginning of life.
Very remarkable is that place, Job xv. 14 — 16. " What
is man, that he should be clean ? And he that is born of a
woman, that he should be righteous ? Behold, he putteth
no trust in his saints ; yea, the heavens are not clean in his
sight : how much more abominable and filthy is man,
* So Gen. xlvi. 34. Job xxxi. 18. Jer. xxxii. 30. and xlviii 11. Ezek. iv.
14. Zech. xiii. 5.

which drinketh iniquity like water !" And no less re
markable is our author's method of managing it. The
16th verse expresses an exceeding degree of wickedness, in
as plain and emphatical terms, almost, as can be invented ;
every word representing this in the strongest manner :
" How much more abominable and filthy is man, that
drinketh iniquity like water I" I cannot now recollect,
where we have a sentence equal to it in the whole Bible,
for an emphatical, lively, and strong representation of great
wickedness of heart. Any one of the words, as such words
are used in Scripture, would represent gi'eat wickedness : if
it had been only said, " How much more abominable is man !
Or, how much more filthy is man ! Or, man that drink
eth iniquity." But all these are accumulated with the
addition of— like water, — the further to represent the bold
ness or greediness of men in wickedness. Though iniquity
be the most deadly poison, yet men drink it as boldly as they
drink water, are as familiar with it as with their common
drink, and drink it with like greediness, as he that is thirsty
drinks water. That boldness and eagerness in persecuting the
saints, by which the great degree of the depravity of man's
heart often appears, as thus represented, Psal. xiv. 4.
" Have the workers of iniquity no knowledge, who eat up
my people as they eat bread 7" And the greatest eager
ness of thirst is represented by thirsting as an animal thirsts
after water, Psal. xiii. 1 .
Now let us see the soft, easy, light manner, in which Dr.
T. treats this place, (p. 143.) " How much more abominable
and filthy is man, in comparison of the divine purity,
who drinketh iniquity like water ! who is attended with
so many sensual appetites, and so apt to indulge them.
You see the argument, man in his present weak and fleshly
state, cannot be clean before God. Why so ? Because he
is conceived and born in sin, by reason of Adam's sin 7
No such thing. But because, if the purest creatures are
not pure, in comparison of God, much less a being subject
to so many infirmities as a mortal man. Which is a
demonstration to me, not only that Job and his friends did
not intend to establish the doctrine we are now examining,
but that they were wholly strangers to it." Thus he en
deavours to reconcile this text with his doctrine of the
perfect native innocence of mankind ; in which we have
a notable specimen of his demonstrations, as well as of that
great impartiality and fairness in examining and expound
ing the Scripture, of which he so often makes a profession !
In this place we are not only told, how wicked man's
heart is, but also how men come by such wickedness ;
even by being of the race of mankind, by ordinary gene-
tion : What is man, that he should be clean ? and he that
is born of a woman, that he should he righteous ? Our
author (p. 141, 142.) represents man being born of a
woman, as a periphrasis, to signify man ; and that there
is no design in the words to give a reason, why man is not
clean and righteous. But the case is most evidently
otherwise, if we may interpret the book of Job by itself.
It is most plain, that man's being born of a woman is
given as a reason of his not being clean; chap. xiv. 4.
" Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean 7" Job
is speaking there expressly of man's being born of a
woman, as appears in ver. 1 . And here how plain is it,
that this is given as a reason of man's not being clean !
Concerning this Dr. T. says, Thut this has no respect to
any moral uncleanness, but only common frailty, cfc. But
how evidently is this also otherwise ! when that unclean
ness, which a man has by being born of a woman, is
expressly explained of unrighteousness, in the next chapter
at the 14th verse, " What is man that he should be clean 7
and he that is born of a woman, that he should be righte
ous 7" Also in chap. xxv. 4. " How then can man be
justified with God ? And how can he be clean that is
born of a woman ?'} It is a moral cleanness Bildad is
speaking of, which a man needs in order to his being jus
tified. His design is, to convince Job of his moral impurity,
and from thence of God's righteousness in his severe judg
ments upon him ; and not of his n atural frailty.
And, without doubt, David has respect to this way of
derived wickedness of heart, when he says, Psal. li. 5.
" Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my
t A phrase of the like import with that in Gen. viii. 21. The imagina
tion, or, as it might have been rendered, the operation, of his heart is evil.

190

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. III.

mother conceive me." It alters not the case, as to the
argument we are upon, whether the word ('.non') conceive
me, signifies to conceive, or to nurse ; which latter, our
author takes so much pains to prove : for, when he has
done all, he speaks of it as a just translation of the words
to render them thus, I was born in iniquity, and in sin did
my mother nurse me. (p. 135.) If it is owned that man is
born in sin, it is not worth the while to dispute, whether
it is expressly asserted, that he is conceived in sin. But
Dr. T. after his manner, insists, that such expressions, as
being bom in sin, being transgressors from the womb, and
the like, are only phrases figuratively to denote aggrava
tion, and a high degree of wickedness. But the contrary
has been already demonstrated, from many plain scripture
instances. Nor is one instance produced, in which there
is any evidence that such a phrase is used in such a man
ner. A poetical sentence out of Virgil's JEneid, has
here been produced, and made much of by some, as parallel
with this, in what Dido says to Mneas, in these lines :
Nee tibi diva parens, generis nee dardanus auctor,
Perfide ; Sed duris genuit re cautious horrens
Caucasus, hyrcanasque admorunt ubera tygres.
In which she tells Mneas, that not a goddess was his mo
ther, nor Anchises his father ; but that he had been brought
forth by a horrid rocky mountain, and nursed at the dugs
of tigers, to represent the greatness of his cruelty to her.
But now unlike and unparallel is this ! Nothing could be
more natural, than for a woman overpowered with the
passion of love, and distracted with raging jealousy and
disappointment, thinking herself treated with brutish per
fidy and cruelty, by a lover whose highest fame had been
his being the son of a goddess, to aggravate his inhumanity
and hard-heartedness with this, that his behaviour was not
worthy the son of a goddess, nor becoming one whose fa
ther was an illustrious prince : and that he acted more as
if he had been brought forth by hard unrelenting rocks,
and had sucked the dugs of tigers. But what is there in
the case of David parallel, or at all in like manner lead
ing him to speak of himself as born in sin, in any such
figurative sense ? He is not speaking himself, nor any one
speaking to him, of any excellent and divine father and
mother, of whom he was born : nor is there any appear
ance of his aggravating his sin, by its being unworthy of
his high birth? There is nothing" else visible in David's
case to lead him to take notice of his being born in sin,
but only his having such experience of the continuance
and power of indwelling sin, after so long a time, and so
many and great means to engage him to holiness ; which
showed that sin was inbred, and in his very nature.
Dr. T. often objects to these and other texts, brought by
divines to prove original sin, that there is no mention
made in them of Adam, nor of his sin. He cries out,
Here is not the least mention, or intimation of Adam, or
any ill effects of his sin upon us. — Here is not one word,
nor the least hint of Adam, or any consequences of his sin,
fyc. <§-c* He say's,f " If Job and his friends had known
and believed the doctrine of a corrupt nature, derived from
Adam's sin only, they ought in reason and truth to have
given this as the true and only reason of the human im
perfection and uncleanness they mention." But these ob
jections and exclamations are made no less impertinently,
than frequently. It is no more a proof, that corruption of
nature did not come by Adam's sin, because many times
when it is mentioned, his sin is not expressly mentioned
as the cause of it ; than that death did not come by Adam's
sin, as Dr. T. says it did. For though death, as incident
to mankind, is mentioned so often in the Old Testament,
and by our Saviour in his discourses, yet Adam's sin is
not once expressly mentioned, after the three first chapters
of Genesis, any where in all the Old Testament, or the four
Evangelists, as the occasion of it.
What Christian has there ever been, that believed the
moral corruption of human nature, who ever doubted that
it came in the way, of which the apostle speaks, when he
says, " By one man sin entered into the world, and death
by sin 7" Nor indeed have they any more reason to doubt
of it, than to doubt of the whole history of our first parents,
because Adam's name is so rarely mentioned, on any
* Page 5, 64, 96, 97, 98, 102, 108, 112, 118, 120, 122, 127, 128, 136, 142, 143,

occasion in Scripture, after that first account of him, and
Eve's never at all ; and because we have no more any ex
press mention of the particular manner, in which mankind
were first brought into being, either with respect to the
creation of Adam or Eve. It is sufficient, that the abiding,
most visible effects of these things, remain in the view of
mankind in all ages, and are often spoken of in Scripture ;
and that the particular manner of their being introduced,
is once plainly set forth in the beginning of the Bible, in
that history which gives us an account of the origin of all
things. Arid doubtless it was expected, by the great
author of the Bible, that the account in the three first
chapters of Genesis should be taken as a plain account of
the introduction of both natural and moral evil into the
world. The history of Adam's sin, with its circumstances,
God's threatening, the sentence pronounced upon him
after his transgression and the immediate consequences,
consisting in so vast an alteration in his state — and the
state of the world, with respect to all his posterity— most
directly and sufficiently lead us to understand the rise of
calamity, sin, and death, in this sinful, miserable world.
It is fit we all should know, that it does not become us
to tell the Most High, how often he shall particularly ex
plain and give the reason of any doctrine which he teaches,
in order to our believing what he says. If he has at all
given us evidence that it is a doctrine agreeable to his
mind, it becomes us to receive it with full credit and sub
mission ; and not sullenly to reject it, because our notions
and humours are not suited in the manner, and number of
times, of his particularly explaining it. How often is
pardon of sins promised in the Old Testament to repenting
and returning sinners ! How many hundred times is
God's special favour there promised to the sincerely right
eous, without any express mention of these benefits being
through Christ ! Would it therefore become us to say,
that inasmuch as our dependence on Christ for these
benefits is a doctrine, which, if true, is of such importance,
God ought expressly to have mentioned Christ's merits as
the reason and ground of the benefits, if he knew they were
the ground of them ; and should have plainly declared it
sooner, and more frequently, if ever he expected we should
believe him, when he did tell us of it? How oft is
vengeance and misery threatened in the Old Testament to
the wicked, without any clear and express signification of
any such thing intended, as that everlasting fire, where
there is wailing and gnashing of teeth, in another world,
which Christ so often speaks of as the punishment ap
pointed for all the wicked ! Would it now become a
Christian, to object and say, that if God really meant any
such thing, he ought in reason and truth to have declared
it plainly and fully ; and not to have been so silent about
a matter of such vast importance to all mankind, for four
thousand years together ?

CHAP. III.
OBSERVATIONS ON VARIOUS OTHER PLACES OF SCRIP
TURE, PRINCIPALLY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT, PROVING
THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN.
Sect. I.
Observations on John iii. 6. in connexion with some other
passages in the New Testament.
Those words of Christ, giving a reason to Nicodemus,
why we must be born again, John iii. 6. " That which is
born of the flesh, is flesh, and that which is bom of the
Spirit is spirit," have not without good reason been pro
duced by divines, as a proof of the doctrine of original
sin : supposing, that by flesh here is meant the human
nature in a debased and corrupt state. Yet Dr. T. (p. 1 44.)
thus explains these words, that which is born ofthe flesh, is
flesh ; " that which is born by natural descent and propa
gation, is a man consisting of body and soul, or the mere
constitution and powers of a man in their natural state."
But the constant use of these terms,i7.esA and spirit, in

149, 152, 155, 229.

t 142.

Sect. I

PROOFS FROM JOHN III 6, &c.

191

other parts of the New Testament, when thus set in op
position, and the latter said to be produced by the Spirit
of God, as here — and when expressive of the same thing,
which Christ is here speaking of to Nicodemus, viz. the
requisite qualifications to salvation— will fully vindicate
the sense, of our divines. Thus in the 7th and 8th chap
ters of Romans, where these terms flesh and spirit (uapf
and irveutia) are abundantly repeated, and set in opposition,
as here. So chap. vii. 14. The law is (»mihu_tu__) spiritual,
but I am (-apK«ot) carnal, sold under sin. He cannot
only mean, " I am a man consisting of body and soul, and
having the powers of a man." Ver. 18. " I know that in
me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing." He
does not mean to condemn his frame, as consisting of
body and soul ; and to assert, that in his human constitu
tion, with the powers of a man, dwells no good thing. And
when he says in the last verse of the chapter, " With the
mind, I myself serve the law of God, but with the flesh,
the law of sin ;" he cannot mean, " I myself serve the law
of God; but with my innocent human constitution, as
having the powers of a man, I serve the law of sin." And
when he says in the next words, the beginning of the 8th
chapter, " there is no condemnation to them, — that walk
not after the flesh, but after the spirit;" and ver. 4. "The
righteousness of the law is fulfilled in us, who walk not
after the flesh;" he cannot mean, "there is no condem
nation to them that walk not according to the powers of a
man," kc. And when he says, (ver. 5 and 6.) "They that
are after the flesh, do mind the things of the flesh ; and to
be carnally minded is death ;" he does not intend, "they
that are according to the human constitution, and the powers
of a man, do mind the things of the human constitution
and powers; and to mind these is death." And when he
says, (ver. 7 and 8.) "The carnal (or fleshly) mind is
enmity against God, and is not subject to the law of God,
neither indeed can be : so that they that are in the flesh,
cannot please God ;" he cannot mean, that to mind the
things which are agreeable to "the powers and constitution
of a man," who as our author says, is constituted or made
right, is enmity against God ; and that a mind which is
agreeable to this right human constitution, as God hath
made it, is not subject to the law of God, nor indeed can
be ; and that they who are according to such a constitution,
cannot please God. And when it is said, (ver. 9.) "Ye
are not in the flesh, but in the spirit;" the apostle cannot
mean, "ye are not in the human nature, as constituted of
body and soul, and with the powers of a man." It is most
manifest, that by the flesh here the apostle means a nature
that is corrupt, of an evil tendency, and directly opposite
to the law and holy nature of God ; so that to walk ac
cording to it, and to have a mind so conformed, is to be
an utter enemy to God and his law ; in a state of perfect
inconsistence with subjection to God, and of being pleasing
to him ; and in a sure and infallible tendency to death,
and utter destruction. And it is plain, that here by walking
after, or according to, the flesh, is meant the same thing as
walking according to a corrupt and sinful nature ; and to
walk according to the spirit, is to walk according to a holy
and divine nature, or principle : and to be carnally minded, is
the same as beings viciouslyand corruptly minded ; and to be
spjrj.„_%minded,istobeof a virtuous and holy disposition.
When Christ says, John iii. 6. " That which is born
of the flesh, is flesh," he represents the flesh not merely as
a quality ; for it would be incongruous to speak of a
quality as a thing born. Therefore man, as in his whole
nature corrupt, is called flesh ; which is agreeable to other
scripture representations, where the corrupt nature is called
the old man, the body of sin, and the body of death.
Agreeable to this are those representations in the 7th and
8th chapters of Romans. There, flesh is figuratively repre
sented as a person, according to the apostle's manner.
This is observed by Mr. Locke, and after him by Dr. T.
who takes notice, that the apostle, in the 6th and 7th of
Romans, represents sin as a person ; and that he figura
tively distinguishes in himself two persons, speaking of
flesh as his person. For I know that m me, that is, in my
flesh, dwelleth no good thing. And it may be observed,
that in the 8th chapter he stillcontinues this representation,
speaking of the flesh as a person. Accordingly, in the
Cth and 7th verses, he speaks of the mind of the flesh,

(ppovnua o-upKor,) and of tne mind of the spirit, (Qoovn/ia
irveKMOTot,) as if the flesh and spirit were two opposite
persons, each having a mind contrary to that of the other.
Dr. T. interprets this mind of the flesh, and mind of the
spirit, as though the flesh and the spirit were the different
objects, about which the mind is conversant. But this is
plainly beside the apostle's meaning; who speaks of the
flesh and spirit as the subjects in which the mind is ; and
in a sense the agents, but not the objects, about which it
acts. We have the same phrase again, ver. 27. " He that
searcheth the hearts, knoweth what is the mind of the
spirit" (0p»vnua 7n/ei/M»rot). The mind of the spiritual
nature in the saints is the same with the mind of the
Spirit of God himself, who imparts and actuates that
spiritual nature ; and here the spirit is the subject and
agent ; but not the object. The same apostle, in a similar
manner, uses the word, (¦>»?,) mind. Col. ii. 18. "Vainly
puffed up by his fleshly mind, (awo m vox m __pnor avm,)
by the mmd of his flesh." And this agent so often called
flesh, represented by the apostle as altogether evil, without
any good thing dwelling in it, or belonging to it — yea per
fectly contrary to God and his law, and tending only to
death and ruin, and directly opposite to the spirit — is what
Christ speaks of to Nicodemus as born in the first birth,
and furnishing a reason why there is a necessity of a new
birth, in order to a better production.
One thing is particularly observable in that discourse
of the apostle — in which he so often uses the term flesh, as
opposite to spirit — that he expressly calls it sinful flesh,
Rom. viii. 3. It is manifest, that by sinful flesh he means
the same thing with that flesh spoken of in all the context :
and that when it is said, Christ was made in the likeness
of sinful flesh, the expression is equipollent with those
that speak of Christ as made sin, and made a curse for us.
Flesh and spirit are opposed to one another in Gal. v.
in the same manner as in the 8th of Romans. And there,
assuredly, by flesh cannot be meant only the human nature
of body and soul, or the mere constitution and powers of a
man, as in its natural state, innocent and right. In the
16th ver. the apostle says, "Walk in the spirit, and ye
shall not fulfil the lusts of the flesh : " the flesh, is some
thing of an evil inclination, desire, or lust. But this is
more strongly signified in the next words ; " For the flesh
lusteth against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh ;
and these are contrary the one to the other." What could
have been said more plainly, to show that what the apostle
means by flesh, is something very evil in its nature, and
an irreconcilable enemy to all goodness 7 And it may be
observed, that in these words, and those that follow, the
apostle still figuratively represents the flesh as a person or
agent, desiring, acting, having lusts, and performing works.
And by works of the flesh, and fruits of the spirit, which
are opposed to each other, (from ver. 19, to the end,) are
plainly meant the same as works of a sinful nature, and
fruits of a holy renewed nature. " Now the works of the
flesh are manifest, which are these : adultery, fornication,
uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred,
variance, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies," &c. " But the
fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentle
ness, goodness," &c. The apostle, by flesh, does not mean
any thing that is innocent and good in itself, which only
needs to be restrained, and kept in proper bounds ; but
something altogether evil, which is to be destroyed. 1 Cor.
v. 5. "To deliver such an one to Satan, for the destruction
of the flesh." We must have no mercy on it ; we cannot
be too cruel to it ; it must even be crucified. Gal. v. 24.
" They that are Christ's, have crucified the flesh with the
affections and lusts."
The apostle John — the same apostle that writes the ac
count of what Christ said to Nicodemus — by the spirit
means the same thing as a new, divine, and holy nature,
exerting itself in a principle of divine love, which is the
sum of all christian holiness. 1 John iii. 23, 24. "And
that we should love one another, as he gave us command
ment ; and he that keepeth his commandments, dwelleth
in him, and he in him : and hereby we know that he
abideth in us, by the spirit that he hath given us. Chap.
iv. 12,13. " If we love one another, God dwelleth in us,
and his love is perfected in us : hereby know we, that we
dwell in him, because he hath given us of his Spirit."

192

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

p. II. Ch. III.

The spiritual principle in us being as it were a commu
nication of the Spirit of God to us.
And as by (tthth/ju) spirit, is meant a holy nature, so by
the epithet, (*»euM<«TiKoi,) spiritual, is meant the same as
truly virtuous and holy. Gal. vi. 1 . " Ye that are spiritual,
restore such an one in the spirit of meekness." The
apostle refers to what he had just said at the end of the
foregoing chapter, where he had mentioned meekness as a
fruit of the spirit. And so by carnal, or fleshly, (aapmnor,)
is meant the same as sinful. Rom. vii. 14. "The law is
spiritual, (i. e. holy,) but I am carnal, sold under sin."
And it is evident, that by flesh, as the word is used in
the New Testament, and opposed to spirit, when speaking
of the qualifications for eternal salvation, is meant — not
only what is now vulgarly called the sins of the flesh, con
sisting in inordinate appetites of the body, and their in
dulgence ; but— the whole body of sin, implying those
lusts that are most subtle, and farthest from any relation
to the body ; such as pride, malice, envy, &c. When the
works of the flesh are enumerated, Gal. v. 19 — 21. they
are vices of the latter kind chiefly that are mentioned ;
" idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath,
strife, seditions, heresies, envyings." So, pride of heart is
the effect or operation of the flesh. Col. ii. 18. "Vainly
puffed up by his fleshly mind :" in the Greek, (as before
observed,) by the mind of the flesh. So, pride, envying, and
strife, and division, are spoken of as works of the flesh,
1 Cor. iii. 3, 4. " For ye are yet carnal (-opkikoi, fleshly).
For whereas there is envying, and strife, and division, "are
ye not carnal, and walk as men ? For while one saith, I
am of Paul, and another, I am of Apollos, are ye not
carnal?" Such kind of lusts do not depend on the body,
or external senses ; for the devil himself has them in the
highest degree, who has not, nor ever had, any body or
external senses to gratify.
Here, if it should be inquired, how corruption or de
pravity in general, or the nature of man as corrupt and
sinful, came to be called flesh, and not only that cor
ruption which consists in inordinate bodily appetites ? I
think, what the apostle says in the last cited place, " Are
ye not carnal, and walk as men ?" leads us to the true
reason. It is because a corrupt and sinful nature is what
properly belongs to mankind, or the race of Adam, as they
are in themselves, and as they are by nature, the word
flesh is often used in both the Old and the New Testa
ment to signify mankind in their present state. To enume
rate all the places, would be very tedious ; I shall there
fore only mention a few in the New Testament. Matt.
xxiv. 22. "Except those days should be shortened, no
flesh should" be saved." Luke iii. 6. " All flesh shall see
the salvation of God." John xvii. 2. " Thou hast given
him power over all flesh."* Man's nature, being left to
itself, forsaken of the Spirit of God, as it was when man
fell, and consequently forsaken of divine and holy prin
ciples, of itself became exceeding corrupt, utterly depraved
and rained : and so the word flesh, which signifies man,
came to be used to signify man as he is in himself, in his
natural state, debased, corrupt, and ruined. On the other
hand, the word spirit came to be used to signify a divine
and holy principle, or new nature ; because that is not of
man, but of God, by the indwelling and vital influence of
his Spirit. And thus to be corrupt, and to be carnal, or
fleshly, and to walk as men, are the same thing. And so
in other parts of Scripture, to savour the things that be of
man, and to savour things which are corrupt, are the same ;
and, sons of men, and wicked men, also are the same, as
observed before. And on the other. hand, to savour the
things that be of God, and to receive the things of the
Spirit of God, are phrases that signify as much as relish
ing and embracing true holiness or divine virtue.
All these things confirm what we have supposed to be
Christ's meaning, in saying, " That which is born of the
flesh, is flesh; and that which is bom of the Spirit, is
spirit." His speech implies, that what is born in the first
birth of man, is nothing but man as he is of himself, with
out any thing divine in him ; depraved, debased', sinful,
ruined man, utterly unfit to enter into the kingdom of
God, and incapable of the spiritual divine happiness of
• See also Acts ii. 17. Rom. iii. 20. 1 Cor. i. 29. Gal. ii 16.

that kingdom. But that which is bom, in the new birth,
of the Spirit of God, is a spiritual principle, a holy and
divine nature, meet for the heavenly kingdom- It is no
small confirmation of this being the true meaning, that the
words understood in this sense, contain the proper and
true reason, why a man must be born again, m order to
enter into the kingdom of God ; the reason given every
where in other parts of Scripture for the necessity of a
renovation, a change of mind, a new heart, &c. in order to
salvation: to give a reason of which to Nicodemus, is
plainly Christ's design in the words which have been in
sisted on.  Before I proceed, I would observe one
thing as a corollary from what has been said.
Corol. If by flesh and spirit, when spoken of in the
New Testament, and opposed to each other, in discourses
on the necessary qualifications for salvation, we are to un
derstand what has been now supposed, it will not only
follow, that men by nature are corrupt, but wholly corrupt,
without any good thing. If by flesh is meant man's
nature, as he receives it in his first birth, then therein
dwelleth no good thing ; as appears by Rom. vii. 18. It is
wholly opposite to God, and to subjection to his law, as
appears by Rom. viii. 7, 8. It is directly contrary to true
holiness, and wholly opposes it, as appears by Gal. v. 17.
So long as men are in their natural state, they not only
have no good thing, but it is impossible they should
have or do any good tiling ; as appears by Rom. viii. 8.
There is nothing in their nature, as they have it by the first
birth, whence should arise any true subjection to God ; as
appears by Rom. viii. 7. If there were any thing truly good
in the flesh, or in man's nature, or natural disposition, under
a moral view, then it should only be amended ; but the Scrip
ture represents as though we were to be enemies to it, and
were to seek nothing short of its entire destruction, as be
fore observed . And elsewhere the apostle directs not to the
amending ofthe oldman, butputting it off, and putting on the
new man ; and seeks not to have the body of death made bet
ter, but to be delivered from it ; and says, " that if any man
be in Christ, he is a new creature, (which doubtless means
the same as a man new born,) old things are (not amended,
but) passed away, and all things are become new."
But this will be further evident, if we particularly con
sider the apostle's discourse in 1 Cor. the latter part of the
second chapter and the beginning of the third. There the
apostle speaks of the natural man, and the spiritual man ;
where natural and spiritual are opposed just in the same
manner as carnal and spiritual often are. In chap. ii. 14,
15. he says, " the natural man receiveth not the things of
the Spirit of God : for they are foolishness unto him ;
neither can he know them, because they are spiritually
discerned. But he that is spiritual, judgeth all things.''
And not only does the apostle here oppose natural and
spiritual, just as he elsewhere does carnal and spiritual,
but his following discourse evidently shows, that he means
the very same distinction, the same two distinct and op
posite things. For immediately on his thus speaking of
the difference between the natural and the spiritual man,
he says, " And I, brethren, could not speak unto you as
unto spiritual, but as unto carnal." Referring manifestly
to what he had been saying, in the immediately preceding
discourse, about spiritual and natural men, anil evidently
using the word, carnal, as synonymous with natural. By
which it is put out of all reasonable dispute, that th'e
apostle by natural men means the same as men in that
carnal, sinful state, that they are in by their first birth ;—
notwithstanding all the glosses and criticisms, by which
modern writers have endeavoured to palm upon us another
sense of this phrase ; and so to deprive us of the clear in
struction the apostle gives in that 14th verse, concerning
the sinful miserable state of man by nature. Dr. T. says,
by iiruxiMir, is meant the animal man, the man who maketh
sense and appetite the law of his action. If he aims to
limit the meaning of the word to external sense, and
bodily appetite, his meaning is certainly not the apostle's.
For the apostle in his sense includes the more spiritual
vices of envy, strife, &c. as appears by the four first verses
of the next chapter ; where, as I have observed, he sub
stitutes the word carnal in the place of <Kx'to. So the

Sect. II.

PROOFS FROM ROM. III. 9—24.

193

apostle Judc used the word in like manner, opposing it to
spiritual, or having the Spirit, ver. 19. "These are they
.that separate themselves, sensual, (.(.i/xmc,) not having the
Spirit. The vices he had been just speaking of, were
chiefly of the more spiritual kind, ver. 16. "These are
murmurers, complainers, walking after their own lusts;
and their mouth speaketh great swelling words, having
men's persons in admiration, because of advantage." The
vices mentioned are much of the same kind with those of
the Corinthians, for which he calls them carnal; envy,
strife, divisions, saying, I am of Paul, and / of Apotlos ;
and being puffed up for one against another. We have the
same word again, James iii. 14, 15. "If ye have bitter
envying and strife, glory not, and lie not against the truth :
this wisdom descendeth. not from above, but is earthly,
sensual, Mux""!,) and devilish;" where also the vices the
apostle speaks of are of the more spiritual kind.
So that on the whole, there is sufficient reason to under
stand the apostle, when he speaks of the natural man, in
1 Cor. ii. 14. as meaning man in his native corrupt state.
And his words represent him as totally corrupt, wholly a
stranger and enemy to true virtue or holiness, and things
appertaining to it, which it appears are commonly intended
in the New Testament by things spiritual, and are doubt
less here meant by things of the Spirit of God. These
words also represent, that it' is impossible man should be
otherwise, while in his natural state. - The expressions are
very strong : Tlie natural man receiveth not the things of'
the Spirit of God, is not susceptible of things of that kind,
neither can he know them, can have no true sense or relish
of them, or notion of their real nature and true excellency ;
because they are spiritually discerned ; they are not dis
cerned by means of any principle in nature, but altogether
by a principle that is divine, something introduced by the
grace of God's Holy Spirit, which is above all that is
natural. The words are in a considerable degree parallel
with those of our Saviour, John xiv. 16, 17. " He shall
give you the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot re
ceive, because it seeth him not,neither knoweth him : but ye
know him ; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you."

SECT. II.
Observations on Rom. iii. 9 — 24.
If the Scriptures represent all mankind as wicked in
their first state, before they are made partakers of the
benefits of Christ's redemption, then they are wicked by
nature : for doubtless men's_w_t state is their native state,
or that in which they come into the world. But the Scrip
tures do thus represent all mankind.
Before I mention particular texts to this purpose, I
would observe, that it alters not the case, as to the argu
ment in hand, whether we suppose these texts speak di
rectly of infants, or only of such as understand something
of their duty and state. For if all mankind, as soon as
ever they are capable of reflecting, and knowing their own
moral state, find themselves wicked, this proves that they
are wicked by nature ; either born so, or born with an in
fallible disposition to be wicked as soon as possible, if
there be any difference between these ; and either of them
will prove men to be born exceedingly depraved. I have
before proved, that a native propensity to sin certainly fol
lows from many things said of mankind in the Scripture ;
but what I intend now, is to prove by direct scripture
testimony, that all mankind, in their first state, are really
of a wicked character.
To this purpose, exceeding full, express, and abundant
is that passage of the apostle, in Rom. iii. 9—24. which
I shall set down at large, distinguishing the universal
terms which are here so often repeated, by a distinct cha
racter. The apostle having in the first chapter (ver. 16,
17.) laid down his proposition, that none can be saved in
any other way than through the righteousness of God, by
faith in Jesus Christ, he proceeds to prove this point, by
showing particularly that all are in themselves wicked, and
without any righteousness of their own. First, he insists
on the wickedness of the Gentiles, in the first chapter;
next, on the wickedness of the Jews, in the second chapter.
vol. i. o

And then, in this place, he comes to sum up the matter,
and draw the conclusion in the words following : " What
then, are we better than they 7 No, in no wise ; for we
have before proved both Jews and Gentiles, that they are
all under sin: as it is written, there is none righteous,
no, not one ; there is none that understandeth ; there is
none that seeketh after God ; they are all gone out of
the way ; they are together become unprofitable ; there
is none that doeth good, no, not one. Their throat is an
open sepulchre ; with their tongues they have used deceit ;
the poison of asps is under their lips ; "whose mouth is full
of cursing and bitterness ; their feet are swift to shed
blood ; destruction and misery are in their ways, and the
way of peace they have not known ; there is no fear of God
before their eyes. Now we know, that whatsoever things
the law saith, it saith to them that are under the law, that
every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may
become guilty before God. Therefore by the deeds of the
law, there shall no flesh be justified in his sight ; for by
the law is the knowledge of sin. But now the righteous
ness of God without the law, is manifest, being witness
ed by the law and the prophets ; even the righteousness
of God, which is by faith of Jesus Christ, unto all, and
upon all them that believe ; for there is no difference.
For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.
Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption
which is in Jesus Christ."
Here the thing which I would prove, viz. that mankind
in their first state, before they are interested in the benefits
of Christ's redemption, are universally wicked, is declared
with the utmost possible fulness and precision. So that
if here this matter be not set forth plainly, expressly, and
fully, it must be because no words can do it, and it is not
in the power of language, or any manner of terms and
phrases, however contrived and heaped up one upon ano
ther, determinately to signify any such thing.
Dr. T. to take off the force of the whole, would have
us to understand, (p. 104—107.) that these passages
quoted from the Psalms, and other parts of the Old Testa
ment, do not speak of all mankind, nor of all the Jews ;
but only of them of whom they were true. He observes,
there were many that were innocent and righteous ; though
there were also many, a strong party, that were wicked,
corrupt, &c. of whom these texts were to be understood.
Concerning which I would observe the following things :
1. According to this, the universality of the terms in
these places, which the apostle cites from the Old Testa
ment, to prove that all the world, both Jews and Gentiles,
are under sin, is nothing to his purpose. The apostle uses
universal terms in his proposition, and in his conclusion,
that all are under sin, that every mouth is stopped, all
the world guilty, — that by the deeds of the law no
flesh can be justified. And he chooses out a number of
universal sayings or clauses out of the Old Testament, to
confirm this universality ; as, There is none righteous ; no,
not one : they are all gone out of the way ; there is none
that understandeth, SfC. But yet the universal terms found
in them have no reference to any such universality, either
in the collective, or personal sense ; no universality of the
nations of the world, or of particular persons in those na
tions, or in any one nation in the world : " but only of those
of whom they are tr-ue !" That is, there is none of them
righteous, of whom it is true, that they are not righteous :
no, not one ; there is none that understand, of whom it is
true, that they understand not : they are all gone out of the
way, of whom it is true, that they are gone out of the
way, &c. Or these expressions are to be understood con
cerning that strong party in Israel, iu David and Solomon's
days, and in the prophets' days ; they are to be understood
of them universally. And what is that to the apostle's
purpose ? How does such an universality of wickedness —
that all were wicked in Israel, who were wicked ; or, that
there was a particular evil party, all of which were wick
ed—confirm that universality which the apostle would
prove, viz. That all Jews and Gentiles, and the whole world,
were wicked, and every mouth stopped, and that no flesh
could be justified by their own righteousness.
Here nothing can be said to abate the nonsense, but
this, that the apostle would convince the Jews, that they
were capable of being wicked, as well as other nations ;

194

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. III.

I

and to prove it, he mentions some texts, which show that
there was a wicked party in Israel a thousand years ago.
And as to the universal terms which happened to be in
these texts, the apostle had no respect to them ; but his
reciting them is as it were accidental, they happened to be
in some texts which speak of an evil party in Israel, and
• the apostle cites them as they are, not because they are any
more to his purpose for the universal terms, which happen
to be in them. But let the reader look on the words of
the apostle, and observe the violence of such a supposition.
Particularly let the words of the 9th and 10th verses,
and their connexion, be observed. All are under sin : as
it is written, There is none righteous ; no, not one. How
plain it is, that the apostle cites that latter universal clause
out of the 14th Psalm, to confound the preceding uni
versal words of his own proposition ! And yet it will
follow from what Dr. T. supposes, that the universality of
the terms in the last words, there is none righteous ; no, not
one, hath no relation at all to that universality he speaks of
in the preceding clause, to which they are joined, all are
under sin : and is no more a confirmation of it, than if the
words were thus, " There are some or there are many in
Israel, that are not righteous."
2. To suppose, the apostle's design in citing these pas
sages, was only to prove to the Jews, that of old there was
a considerable number of their nation that were wicked
men, is to suppose him to have gone about to prove what
none of the Jews denied, or made the least doubt of, even
the Pharisees, the most self-righteous sect of them, who
went furthest in glorying in the distinction of their nation
from other nations, as a holy people, knew it, and owned
it ; they openly confessed that their forefathers killed the
rophets, Matt, xxiii. 29 — 31 . And if the apostle's design
iad been only to refresh their memories, to put them in
mind of the ancient wickedness of their nation, to lead to
reflection on themselves as guilty of the like wickedness,
as Stephen does, (Acts vii.) what need had he to go so far
about to prove this — gathering up many sentences here
and there which prove, that their scriptures speak of some
as wicked men — and then to prove, that the wicked men
spoken of must be Jews, by this argument, that what
things soever the law saith, it saith to them that are under the
taw, or that whatsoever the books of the Old Testament
said, it must be understood of that people who had the
Old Testament? What need had the apostle of such an
ambages as this, to prove to the Jews, that there had been
many of their nation in past ages, which were wicked men ;
when the Old Testament was full of passages that asserted
this expressly, not only of a strong party, but of the nation
in general? How much more would it have been to such a
purpose, to have put them in mind of the wickedness of
the people in general in worshipping the golden calf; of
the unbelief, murmuring, and perverseness of the whole
congregation in the wilderness, for forty years, as Ste
phen does ! Which things he had no need to prove to be
spoken of their nation, by any such indirect argument as
this, Whatsoever things the law saith, it saith to them that
are under the law.
3. It would have been impertinent to the apostle's pur
pose, even as our author understands his purpose, for him
to have gone about to convince the Jews, that there had
been a strong party of bad men in the time of David and
Solomon, and the prophets. For Dr. T. supposes, the
apostle's aim is to prove the great corruption of both Jews
and Gentiles when Christ came into the world.*
In order the more fully to evade the clear and abundant
testimonies to the doctrine of original sin, contained in
this part of the Holy Scripture, our author says, the apos
tle is here speaking of bodies of people, of Jews and Gen
tiles in a collective sense, as two great bodies into which
mankind are divided ; speaking of them in their collective
capacity, and not with respect to particular persons ; that
the apostle's design is to prove, that neither of these two
great bodies, in their collective sense, can be justified by
law, because both were corrupt ; and so that no more is
implied, than that the generality of both were wicked.f
On this I observe,
(1.) That this supposed sense disagrees extremely with
« See Key, §307.310.
t Page 102,104, 117, 119, 120. and note on Rom. iii. 10— 19,

the terms and language which the apostle here makes use
of. For according to this, we must understand, either,
First, That the apostle means no universality at all, but
only the far greater part. But if the words which the apos
tle uses, do not most fully and determinately signify an
universality, no words ever used in the Bible are sufficient
to do it. I might challenge any man to produce any one
paragraph in the Scripture, from the beginning to the end,
where there is such a repetition and accumulation of terms,
so strongly, and emphatically, and carefully, to express the
most perfect and absolute universality; or any place to be
compared to it. What instance is there in the Scripture,
or indeed in any other writing, when the meaning is only
the much greater part, where this meaning is signified in
such a manner, They are all, — They are all, — They are
all — together, — every one, — all the world ; joined to mul
tiplied negative terms, to show the universality to be with
out exception ; saying, There is no flesh, — there is none, —
there is none,— there is none, — there is none, four times over;
besides the addition of No, not one, — no, not one,— once
and again ! Or,
Secondly, If any universality at all be allowed, it is only
of the collective bodies spoken of: and these collective
bodies but two, as Dr. T. reckons them, viz. the Jewish
nation, and the Gentile world ; supposing the apostle is
here representing each of these parts of mankind as being
wicked! But is this the way of men using language, when
speaking of but two things, to express themselves in such
universal terms, when they mean no more than that the
thing affirmed is predicated of both of them ? If a man
speaking of his two feet as both lame, should say, All my
feet are lame — They are all lame — All together are become
weak — None of my feet are strong — None of them are
sound — No, not one ; would not he be thought to be lame
in his understanding, as well as his feet? When the apos
tle says, That every mouth may be stopped, must we sup
pose, that he ^peaks only of these two great collective
bodies, figuratively ascribing to each of them a mouth, and
means that these two mouths are stopped 7 Besides, ac
cording to our author's own interpretation, the universal
terms used in these texts, cited from the Old Testament,
have no respect to those two great collective bodies, nor
indeed to either of them ; but to some in Israel, a particu
lar disaffected party in that one nation, which was made up
of wicked men. So that his interpretation is every way
absurd and inconsistent.
(2.) If the apostle is speaking only ofthe wickedness or
guilt of great collective bodies, then it will follow, that also
the justification he here treats of, is no other than the jus
tification of such collective bodies. For, they are the
same of whom he speaks as guilty and wicked, and who
cannot be justified by the works of the law, by reason of
their being wicked. Otherwise his argument is wholly dis
annulled. If the guilt he speaks of be only of collective
bodies, then what he argues from that guilt, must be only,
that collective bodies cannot be justified by the works of
the law, having no respect to the justification of particular
persons. And indeed this is Dr. T.'s declared opinion.
He supposes the apostle here, and in other parts of this
epistle, is speaking of men's justification considered only as
in their collective capacity. I But the contrary is most
manifest. The 26th and 28th verses of this third chapter,
cannot, without the utmost violence, be understood other
wise than of the justification of particular persons. " That
he might be just, and the justifier of him that believeth in
Jesus. — Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by
faith, without the deeds of the law." So in chap. iv. 5.
" But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that
justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteous
ness." And what the apostle cites in the 6th, 7th, and 8th
verses from the book of Psalms, evidently shows, that he
is speaking of the justification of particular persons.
" Even as David also describeth the blessedness of tlie
man unto whom God imputeth righteousness without
works, saying, Blessed are they whose iniquities are for
given, and whose sins are covered." David says these
things in the 32d Psalm, with a special respect to'his own
particular case ; there expressing the gi'eat distress he was
J See note on Rom. iii. 10-19. chap. v. U. and chap, ix.30.31

Sect. II.

PROOFS FROM ROM. III. 9-24.

195

in, while under a sense of personal sin and guilt, and the
great joy he had when God forgave him.
And what can be plainer, that in the paragraph we have
been upon, (Rom. iii. 20.) it is the justification of parti
cular persons of which the apostle speaks. " Therefore by
the deeds of the law, there shall no flesh be justified in his
sight." He refers to Psal. cxliii. 2. " Enter not intojudg-
ment with thy servant ; for in thy sight shall no man living
be justified."" Here the psalmist is not speaking of the
justification of a nation, as a collective body, or of one of
the two parts of the world, but of a particular man. And
it is further manifest, that the apostle is here speaking of
personal justification, inasmuch as this place is evidently
parallel with Gal. iii. 10, 11. " For as many as are ofthe
works of the law, are under the curse : for it is written,
Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things that
are written in the book of the law to do them. But that
no man is justified by the works of the law, is evident ; for,
The just shall live by faith." It is plain, that this place is
parallel with that in the 3d of Romans, not only as the
thing asserted is the same, and the argument by which it is
proved — that all are guilty, and exposed to condemnation
by the law.— But the same saying ofthe Old Testament is
cited, (Gal. ii. 16.) Many other things demonstrate, that
the apostle is speaking of the same justification in both
places, which I omit for brevity's sake.
And besides all these things, our author's interpretation
makes the apostle's argument wholly void another way.
The apostle is speaking of a certain subject which cannot
be justified by the works of the law ; and his argument is,
that the same subject is guilty, and is condemned by the
law. If he means, that one subject, suppose a collective
body or bodies, cannot be justified by the law, because
another subject, another collective body, is condemned by
the law, it is plain, the argument would be quite vain and
impertinent. Yet thus the argument must stand according
to Dr. T.'s interpretation. The collective bodies which
he supposes are spoken of as wicked, and condemned by
the law, considered as in their collective capacity, are those
two, the Jewish nation, and the heathen world : but the
collective body which he supposes the apostle speaks of
as justified without the deeds of the law, is neither of these,
but the christian church, or body of believers ; which is a
new collective body, a new creature, and a new man, (ac
cording to our author's understanding of such phrases,)
which never had any existence before it was justified, and
therefore never was wicked or condemned, unless it was
with regard to the individuals of which it was constituted ;
and it does not appear, according to our author's scheme,
that these individuals had before been generally wicked.
For according to him, there was a number both among the
Jews and Gentiles, that were righteous before. And how
does it appear, but that the comparatively few Jews and
Gentiles, of which this new-created collective body was
constituted, were chiefly ofthe best of each?
So that in every view, this author's way of explaining
the passage appears vain and absurd. And so clearly and
fully has the apostle expressed himself, that it is doubtless
impossible to invent any other sense to put upon his words,
than that which will imply, that all mankind, even every
individual of the whole race, but their Redeemer himself,
are in their first original state corrupt and wicked.
Before I leave this passage, (Rom. iii. 9 — 24.) it may
be proper to observe, that it not only is a most clear and
full testimony to the native depravity of mankind, but also
plainly declares that natural depravity to be total and ex
ceeding great, lt is the apostle's manifest design in these
citations from the Old Testament, to show these three
things. 1. That all mankind are by nature corrupt. 2.
That every one is altogether corrupt, and, as it were, de
praved in every part. 3. That they are in every part cor
rupt in an exceeding degree. With respect to the second
of these, it is plain the apostle puts together those parti
cular passages of the Old Testament, wherein most of
those members of the body are mentioned, that are the
soul's chief instruments or organs of external action. The
hands (implicitly) in those expressions, " They are toge
ther become unprofitable, There is none that doth good."
* Page 114—120. See also Dr. T.'s Paraph, andnotes on the place.
O 2

The throat, tongue, lips, and mouth, the organs of speech,
in those words ; " Their throat is an open sepulchre ;
with their tongues they have used deceit ; the poison of
asps is under their lips ; whose mouth is full of cursing
and bitterness." The feet in those words, ver. 15. " Their
feet are swift to shed blood." These things together sig
nify, that man is as it were all over corrupt in every part.
And not only is the total corruption thus intimated, by
enumerating the several parts, but also by denying all
good ; any true understanding or spiritual knowledge, any
virtuous action, or so much as a truly virtuous desire, or
seeking , after God. " There is none that understandeth ;
there is none that seeketh after God ; there is none that
doth good ; the way of peace have they not known." And
in general, by denying all true piety or religion in men in
their first state, ver. 18. " There is no fear of God before
their eyes."- — The expressions also are evidently chosen to
denote a most extreme and desperate wickedness of heart.
An exceeding depravity is ascribed to every part : to the
throat, the scent of an open sepulchre ; to the tongue and
lips, deceit, and the poison of asps; to the mouth, cursing
and bitterness ; of their feet 'it is said, they are swift to shed
blood : and ^vith regard to the whole man, it is said, de
struction arid misery are in their ways. The representation
is very strong of each of these things, viz. That all man
kind are corrupt ; that every one is wholly and altogether
corrupt; and also extremely and desperately corrupt. And
it is plain, it is not accidental, that we have here such a
collection of such strong expressions, so emphatically sig
nifying these things ; but 'that they are chosen of the
apostle on design, as being directly and fully to his pur
pose ; which purpose appears in all his discourse in the
whole of this chapter, and indeed from the beginning of
the epistle.

SECT. III.
Observations on Rom. v. 6—10. and Eph. ii. 3. with the
context, and Rom. vii.
Another passage of this apostle, which shows that all
who are made partakers of the benefits of Christ's redemp
tion, are in their first state wicked, desperately wicked, is
Rom. v. 6—10. " For when we were yet without strength,
in due time Christ died for the ungodly. For scarcely for a
righteous man will one die ; yet peradventure for a good
man some would even dare to die. But God commendeth
his love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners,
Christ died for us. Much more then, being now justified
by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.
For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God
through the death of his Son ; much more, being recon
ciled, we shall be saved by his life." — Here all for whom
Christ died, and who are saved by him, are spoken of as
being in their first state sinners, ungodly, enemies to God,
exposed to divine wrath, and without strength, without
ability to help themselves, or deliver their souls from this
miserable state.
Dr. T. says, the apostle here speaks of the Gentiles only
in their heathen state, in contradistinction to the Jews ;
and that not of particular persons among the heathen Gen
tiles, or as to the state they were in personally ; but only
of the Gentiles collectively taken, or of the miserable state
of that great collective body, the heathen world : and that
these appellations, sinners, ungodly, enemies, &c. were
names by which the apostles in their writings were wont to
signify and distinguish the heathen world, in opposition to
the Jews ; and that in this sense these appellations are to
be taken in their epistles, and in this place in particular*
And it is observable, that this way of interpreting these
phrases in the apostolic writings is become fashionable
with many late writers ; whereby they not only evade
several clear testimonies to the doctrine of original sin, but
make void great part of the New Testament ; on which
account it deserves the more particular consideration.
It is allowed to have been long common and customary
among the Jews, especially the sect of the Pharisees, in

"196

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

p. II. Cn. III.

their pride, and confidence in their privileges as the pecu
liar people of God, to exalt themselves exceedingly above
other nations, and greatly to despise the Gentiles, calling
them by such names as sinners, enemies, dogs, Sec. Them
selves they accounted, in general, (excepting the publicans,
and the notoriously profligate,) as the friends, the special
favourites and children, of God ; because they were the
children of Abraham, were circumcised, and had the law
of Moses, as their peculiar privilege, and as a wall of par
tition between them and the Gentiles.
But it is very remarkable, that a christian divine, who
has studied the New Testament, and the epistle to the
Rormins in particular, so diligently as Dr. T. has done,
should so strongly imagine that the apostles of Jesus
Christ countenance and cherish these self-exalting, un
charitable dispositions and notions of the Jews which gave
rise to such a custom, so far as to fall in with that custom,
and adopt that language of their pride and contempt ; and
especially that the apostle Paul should do it. lt is a most
unreasonable imagination on many accounts.
1. The whole gospel dispensation is calculated entirely
to overthrow and abolish every thing to which this self-
distinguishing, self-exalting language of the Jews was
owing. It was calculated wholly to exclude such boast
ing, and to destroy the pride and self-righteousness which
were the causes of it. It was calculated to abolish the
enmity, and break down the partition-wall between Jews
and Gentiles, and of twain, to make one new man, so making
peace : to destroy all dispositions in nations and particular
persons to despise one another, or to say one to another,
Stand by thyself, come not near to me ; for I am holier- than
thou ; and to establish the contrary principles of humility,
mutual esteem, honour and love, and universal union, in
the most firm and perfect manner.
2. Christ, when on earth, set himself, through the whole
course of his ministry, to militate against this pharisaical
spirit, practice, and language of the Jews ; by which they
showed so much contempt of the Gentiles, publicans, and
such as were openly lewd and vicious, and thus exalted
themselves above them ; calling them sinners and enemies,
and themselves holy, and God's children ; not allowing
the Gentile to be their neighbour, &c. He condemned the
Pharisees for not esteeming themselves sinners, as well as
the publicans; trusting in themselves ' that they were
righteous, and despising others. He militated against these
things in his own treatment of some Gentiles, publicans,
and others, whom they called sinners, and in what he said
on those occasions*
He opposed these notions and manners of the Jews in
his parables,f and in his instructions to his disciples how
to treat the unbelieving Jews ; J and in what he says to
Nicodemus about the necessity of a new birth, even for
the Jews, as well as the unclean Gentiles with regard to
their proselytism, which some of the Jews looked upon
as a new birth. And in opposition to their notions ol
their being the children of God, because the children of
Abraham, but the Gentiles by nature sinners and children
of wrath, he tells them that even they were children of
the devil.§
3. Though we should suppose the apostles not to have
been thoroughly brought off from such notions, manners,
and language of the Jews, till after Christ's ascension ;
yet after the pouring out of the Spirit on the day of Pente
cost, or at least, after the calling of the Gentiles, begun in
the conversion of Cornelius, they were fully instructed in
this matter, and effectually taught no longer to call the
Gentiles unclean, as a note of distinction from the Jews,
Acts x. 28. which was before any of the apostolic epistles
were written.
4. Of all the apostles, none were more perfectly in
structed in this matter, than Paul, and none so abundant
in instructing others in it, as this great apostle of the Gen
tiles. None of the apostles had so much occasion to
« Matt viii. 5—13. Chap. ix. 9—13. Chan. xi. 19—24. Chap. xv. 21—28.
Luke vii. 37. to the end. Chap, xvii 12— 19. Chap. xix. 1 — 10. John iv.
9, _c. ver. 39, &c. Compare Luke x. 29, _c.
t Matt, xxi 28—32. Chap. xxii. 1 — 10, Luke xiv. 16—24. Compare
Luke xiii. 28. 29, 30.
J. Matt. x. 14, 15.
^ John viii. 33—44. It may also be observed, that John the Baptist
greatly contradicted the Jews' opinion of themselves, as being a holy peo
ple, and accepted of God, because they were the children of Abraham —

exert themselves against the forementioned notions and
language of the Jews, in opposition to Jewish teachers
and judaizing Christians who strove to keep up the sepa
ration-wall between Jews and Gentiles, and to exalt the
former, and set at nought the latter.
5. This apostle, in his epistle to the Romans, above all
his other writings, exerts himself in a most elaborate man
ner, and with his utmost skill and power, to bring the
Jewish Christians off from every thing of this kind. He
endeavours by all means that there might no longer be in
them any remains of these old notions, in which they had
been educated, of such a great distinction between Jews
and Gentiles, as were expressed in the names they used to
distinguish them by ; the Jews, holy children of Abra
ham, friends and children of God; but the Gentiles, sin
ners, unclean, enemies, and the like. He makes it almost
his whole business, from the beginning of the epistle,
Rom. v. 6, &c. to convince them that there was no ground
for any such distinction, and to prove that in common,
both Jews and Gentiles, all were desperately wicked, and
none righteous, no not one. He tells them, chap. iii. 9.
that the Jews were by no means better than the Gentiles ;
and (in what follows in that chapter) that there was no
difference between Jews and Gentiles ; and represents all
as without strength, or any sufficiency of their own in the
affair of justification and redemption. And in the con
tinuation of the same discourse, in the 4th chapter, he
teaches that all who were justified by Christ, were in
themselves ungodly ; and that being the children of Abra
ham was not peculiar to the Jews. In this 5th chap, still
in continuation of the same discourse — on the same sub
ject and argument of justification through Christ, and by
faith in him — he speaks of Christ dying for the ungodly
and sinners, and those who were without strength or suf
ficiency for their own salvation, as he had done all along
before. But now, it seems, the apostle by sinners and un
godly, must not be understood according as he used these
words before ; but must be supposed to mean only the
Gentiles as distinguished from the Jews; adopting the
language of those self-righteous, self-exalting, disdainful
judaizing teachers, whom he was with all his might oppos
ing : countenancing the very same thing in them, which he
had been from the beginning of the epistle discountenan
cing, and endeavouring to discourage, and utterly to abo
lish, with all his art and strength.
One reason why the Jews looked on themselves better
than the Gentiles, and called themselves holy, and the
Gentiles sinners, was; that they had the law of Moses.
They made their boast of the law. But the apostle shows
them, that this was so far from making them better, that
it condemned them, and was an occasion of their being
sinners, in a higher degree, and more aggravated manner,
and more effectually and dreadfully dead in sin.||
It cannot be justly objected here, that this apostle did,
in fact, use this language, and call the gentiles sinners, in
contradistinction to the Jews, in what he said to Peter,
Gal. ii. 15, 16. "We who are Jews by nature, and not
sinners of the Gentiles, knowing that a man is not justified
by the works of the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ." It
is true, that the apostle here refers to this distinction, as
what was usually made by the self-righteous Jews, be
tween themselves and the Gentiles ; but not in such a
manner as to adopt, or favour it ; but on the contrary, so
as plainly to show his disapprobation of it ; q.d. " Though
we were born Jews, and by nature are of that people which
are wont to make their boast of the law, expecting to be
justified by it, and trust in themselves that they are right
eous, despising others, calling the Gentiles sinners, in dis
tinction from themselves ; yet we being now instructed in
the gospel of Christ, know better ; we now know that a
man is not justified by the works of the law ; that we are
all justified only by faith in Christ, in whom there is no
difference, no distinction of Greek or Gentile, and Jew,
and on that account better than the heathen whom they called sinners, ene
mies, unclean, &c. — in baptizing the Jews as a polluted people, and sinners,
as the Jews used to baptize proselytes from among the heathen ; calling
them to repentance as sinners, saying, Think not to say within yourselves.
We have Abraham to our father ; for I say unto you, that God is able, of
these stones, to raise up children unto Abraham ; and teaching the Pha
risees, that instead of their being a holy generation, and children of God,
as they called themselves, they were a generation of vipers.
II See chap, vii, 4—13. agreeably to those words of Christ, John v. 45.

Sect. III.

PROOFS FROM ROM. V. 6—10, &c

197

but all are one in Christ Jesus." And this is the very
thing he there speaks of, which he blamed Peter for ; that
by his withdrawing and separating himself from the Gen
tiles, refusing to eat with them, &c. he had countenanced
this self-exalting, self-distinguishing, separating spirit and
custom of the Jews, whereby they treated the Gentiles, as
in a distinguishing manner sinners and unclean, and not
fit to come near them who were a holy people.
6. The very words of the apostle in this place, show
plainly, that he uses the term sinners, not as signifying
Gentiles, in opposition to Jews, but as denoting the mo
rally evil, in opposition to such as are righteous or good.
This latter distinction between sinners and righteous is
here expressed in plain terms. " Scarcely for a righteous
man will one die ; yet peradventure for a good man some
would even dare to die ; but God commended his love
towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died
¦for us." By righteous men are doubtless meant the same
that are meant by such a phrase, throughout this apostle's
writings, throughout the New Testament, and throughout
the Bible. Will any one pretend, that by tbe righteous
man, for whom men would scarcely die, and by the good
man, for whom perhaps some might even dare to die, is
meant a Jew ? Dr. T. himself does not explain it so, in his
exposition of this epistle ; and therefore is not very consist
ent with himself, in supposing, that in the other part of the
distinction the apostle means Gentiles, as distinguished
from the Jews. The apostle himself had been labouring
abundantly, in the preceding part of the epistle, to prove,
that the Jews were sinners in opposition to righteous ; that
all had sinned, that all were under sin, and therefore could
not be justified, could not be accepted as righteous, by their
own righteousness.
7. Another thing which makes it evident that the apostle,
when he speaks in this place of the sinners and enemies for
whom Christ died, does not mean only the Gentiles, is,
that he includes himself among them, saying, white we
were sinners, and when we were enemies.
Our author from time to time says, the apostle, though
he speaks only of the Gentiles in their heathen state, yet
puts himself with them, because he was the apostle of the
Gentiles. ' But this is very unreasonable. There is no
more sense in it, than there would be in a father ranking
himself among his children, when speaking to his children of
the benefits they have by being begotten by himself; and
saying, We children. Or in a physician ranking himself
with his patients, when talking to them of their diseases
and cure ; saying, We sick folks. Paul being the apostle
of the Gentiles to save them from their heathenism, is so
far from being a reason for him to reckon himself among
the heathen, that on the contrary, it is the very thing that
would render it in a peculiar manner unnatural and absurd
for him so to do. Because, as the apostle of the Gentiles,
he appears as their healer and deliverer from heathenism ;
and therefore in that capacity, in a peculiar manner, ap
pears in his distinction from the heathen, and in opposition
to the state of heathenism. For it is by the most opposite
qualities only, that he is fitted to be an apostle of the
heathen, and recoverer from heathenism. As the clear
light of the sun is what makes it a proper restorative from
darkness ; and, therefore, the sun being spoken of as such
a remedy, none would suppose to be a good reason why it
should be ranked among dark things. Besides, the
apostle, in this epistle, expressly ranks himself with the
Jews when he speaks of tnem as distinguished from the
Gentiles; as in chap. iii. 9. " What then? are we better
than they 7 " That is, are we Jews better than the Gentiles ?
It cannot justly be alleged in opposition to this, that
the apostle Peter puts himself with the heathen, 1 Pet. iv.
3. " For the time past of our life may suffice us to have
wrought the will of the Gentiles ; when we walked in las-
civiousness, lusts, excess of wine, revellings, banquetings,
and abominable idolatries." For the apostle Peter (who
by the way was not an apostle of the Gentiles) here does
not speak of himself as one of the heathen, but as one of
the church of Christ in general, made up of those who had
been Jews, proselytes, and heathens, who were now all one
body, of which body he was a member. It is this society,
therefore, and not the Gentiles, that he refers to in the
pronoun us. He is speakiug -of the wickedness that the

members of this body or society had "lived in before their
conversion ; not that every member had lived in all those
vices here mentioned, but some in one, others in another.
Very parallel is the passage with that of the apostle Paul
to Titus, chap. iii. 3. " For we ourselves also" (i. e. vie
of the christian church) " were sometimes foolish, disobe
dient, deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures," (some
one lust and pleasure, others another,) " living in malice,
envy, hateful, and hating one another," &c. There is
nothing in this, but what is very natural. That the apostle,
speaking to the christian church, and of that church, con
fessing its former sins, should speak of himself as one of
that society, and yet mention some sins that he personally
had not been guilty of, and among others, heathenish idol
atry, is quite a different thing from what it would have
been for the apostle, expressly distinguishing those of the
Christians, which had been heathen, from those which had
been Jews, to have ranked himself with the former, though
he was truly of the latter.
If a minister in some congregation in England, speaking
in a sermon of the sins of the nation, being himself of the
nation, should say, " We have greatly corrupted ourselves,
and provoked God by our deism, blasphemy, profane
swearing, lasciviousness, venality," &c. speaking in the first
person plural, though he himself never had been a deist,
and perhaps none of his hearers, and they might also have
been generally free from other sins he mentioned ; yet there
would be nothing unnatural in his thus expressing himself.
But it would be quite a different thing, if one part of the
British dominions, suppose our king's American domi
nions, had universally apostatized from Christianity to
deism, and had long been in such a state, and if one who
had been born and brought up in England among Chris
tians, the country being universally Christian, should be
sent among them to show them the folly and great evil of
deism, and convert them to Christianity ; and this mis
sionary, when making a distinction between English Chris
tians, and these deists, should rank himself with the latter,
and say, we American deists, we foolish blind infidels, ijc.
This indeed would be very unnatural and absurd.
Another passage of the apostle, to the like purpose with
that which we have been considering in the 5th of Romans,
is that in Eph. ii. 3.—" And were by nature children of
wrath, even as others." This remains a plain testimony to
the doctrine of original sin, as held by those who used to
be called orthodox Christians, after all the pains and art
used to torture and pervert it. This doctrine is here not
only plainly and fully taught, but abundantly so, if we
take the words with the context; where Christians are
once and again represented as being, in their first, state,
dead in sin, and as quickened and raised up from such a
state of death, in a most marvellous display of free rich
grace and love, and exceeding greatness of God's power, S/c.
With respect to those words, (num nvtua 4>m>> °p7«v,) We
were by nature children of wrath, Dr. T. says, p. 112—
114.) " The apostle mean's no more by this, than truly or
really children of wrath. ; using a metaphorical expression,
borrowed from the word that is used to signify a true and
genuine child of a family, in distinction from one that is a
child only by adoption?' In which it is owned, that the
proper sense of the phrase is, being a child by nature, in
the same sense as a child by birth or natural generation ;
but only he supposes, that here the word is used metapho
rically. The instance he produces as parellel, to confirm
his supposed metaphorical sense of the phrase, as mean
ing only truly, really, or properly children of wrath, viz.
the apostle Paul's calling Timothy his own son in faith,
[tnaiov renvoi,,) is so far from confirming his sense, that it
is rather directly against it. For doubtless the apostle
uses the word here (tvh-iov) in its original signification,
meaning his begotten son ; -yvn-ior being the adjective from
¦y°i"i, offspring, or the verb, -ye^a-, to beget; as much as to
say, Timothy my begotten son in the faith. For as there
are two ways of being begotten, one natural, and the other
spiritual ; the first generation, and regeneration ; so the
apostle expressly signifies which of these he means m this
place, Timothy my begotten son in the faith, in the same
manner as he says to the Corinthians, 1 Cor. iv. 15. "In
Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel, lo
sav,the apostle uses the word, *.,«., in Eph. n. 3. only as

198

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. III.

signifying real, true, and proper, is a most arbitrary inter
pretation, having nothing to warrant it in the whole Bible.
The word <s>^ii is no where used in this sense in the New
Testament.* Another thing which our author alleges to evade the
force of this, is, that the word rendered nature, sometimes
signifies habit contracted by custom, or an acquired nature.
But this is not its proper meaning. And it is plain,
the word in its common use, in the New Testament,
signifies what we properly express in English by the word
nature. There is but one place where there can be the
least pretext for supposing it to be used otherwise ; and
that is 1 Cor. xi. 14. " Doth not even nature itself
teach you, that if a man have long hair, it is a shame
unto him ?" And even here there is, I think, no manner
of reason for understanding nature otherwise than in the
proper sense. The emphasis used, (av-n n cwir,) nature
itself, shows that the apostle does not mean custom, but
nature in the proper sense. It is true, it was long custom
which made having the head covered a token of subjec
tion, and a feminine appearance; as it is custom that
makes any outward action or word a sign or signification
of any thing. But nature itself, nature in its proper sense,
teaches, that it is a shame for a man to appear with the
established signs of the female sex, and with significations
of inferiority, &c. As nature itself shows it to be a shame
for a father to bow down or kneel to his own child or
servaut, or for men to bow to an idol, because bowing
down is by custom an established token or sign of subjec
tion and submission. Such a sight therefore would be
unnatural, shocking to a man's very nature. So nature
would teach, that it is a shame for a woman to use such
and such lascivious words or gestures, though it be custom
that establishes the unclean signification of those gestures
and sounds.
It is particularly unnatural and unreasonable, to under
stand the phrase, (tck.q $>u_ei,) in this place, any otherwise
than in the proper sense, on the following accounts. 1 . It
may be observed, that both the words, t«„_ and ^o.u, in
their original signification, have reference to birth or gene
ration. So the word (pvaK, from *._, wbich signifies to
beget or bring forth young, or to bud forth, as a plant, that
brings forth young buds and branches. And so the word
t<*to* comes from ti«t_, which signifies to bring forth chil
dren. — 2. As though the apostle took care by the word
used here, to signify what we are by birth, he changes the
word he used before for children. In the preceding verse
he used woi, speaking of the children of disobedience ; but
here teki.., which is a word derived, as observed, from tikt_,
to bring forth a child, and more properly signifies a be
gotten or born child. — 3. It is natural to suppose that the
apostle here speaks in opposition to the pride of some,
especially the Jews, (for the church in Ephesus was made
up partly of Jews, as well as the church in Rome,) who
exalted themselves in the privileges they had by birth, be
cause they were born the children of Abraham, and were
Jews by nature, tpu<re< iaoaioi, as the phrase is, Gal. ii. 15.
In opposition to this proud conceit, he teaches the Jews,
that notwithstanding this they were by nature children of
wrath, even as others, i. e. as well as the Gentiles, which
the Jews had been taught to look upon as sinners, and out
of favour with God by nature, and oorn children of wrath.
— 4. It is more plain, that the apostle uses the word nature
in its proper sense here, because he sets what they were
by nature in opposition to what they are by grace. In
this verse, the apostle shows what they are by nature, viz.
children of wrath ; and in the following verses he shows,
how very different their state is by grace ; saying, ver. 5.
" By grace ye are saved ;" repeating it again, ver. 8. " By
grace ye are saved." But if, by being children of wrath
by nature, were meant no more than only their being
really and truly children of wrath, as Dr. T. supposes,
there would be no opposition in the signification of these
phrases ; for in this sense they were by nature in a state
of salvation, as much as by nature children of wrath ; for
they were truly, really, and properly in a state of salva
tion. If we take these words with the context, the whole
* The following ore all the other places where the word is used, Rom. i.
26. and ii. 14. and ver, 27. audxi. 21. and ver. 24. thrice in that verne. I Cor.

abundantly proves, that by nature we are totally corrupt,
without any good thing in us. For if we allow the plain
scope of the place, without attempting to hide it by doing
extreme violence to the apostle's words, the design here is
strongly to establish this point ; that what Christians have
that is good in them, or in their state, is in no part of it
naturally in themselves, or from themselves, but is wholly
from divine grace, all the gift of God, and his workman
ship, the effect of his power, his free and wonderful love.
None of our good loorks are primarily from ourselves, but
with respect to them all, we are God's workmanship, created
unto good works, as it were out of nothing. Not so much
as faith itself, the first principle of good works in Chris
tians, is of themselves, but that is the gift of God. There
fore the apostle compares the work of God, in forming
Christians to true virtue and holiness, not only to a new
creation, but a resurrection, or raising from the dead. Ver.
1 . " You hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses
and sins." And again, ver. 5. " Even when we were dead
in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ." In
speaking of Christians being quickened with Christ, the
apostle lias reference to what he had said before, in the
latter part of the foregoing chapter, of God manifesting the
exceeding greatness of his power towards christian con
verts in their conversion, agreeable to the operation of his
mighty power, when he raised Christ from the dead. So
that it is plain by every thing in this discourse, the apostle
would signify, that by nature we have no goodness ; but
are as destitute of it as a dead corpse is of life. And
that all goodness, all good works, and faith the principle
of all, are perfectly the gift of God's grace, and the work
of his great, almighty, and exceeding excellent power. I
think, there can be need of nothing but reading the chapter,
and minding what is read, to convince all who have com
mon understanding, of this ; whatever any of the most
subtle critics have done, or ever can do, to twist, rack,
perplex, and pervert the words and phrases here used.
Dr. T. here again insists, that the apostle speaks only of
the Gentiles in their heathen state, when he speaks of those
that were dead in sin, and by nature children of wrath ;
and that though he seems to include himself among those,
saying, we were by nature children of wrath, we were dead
in sins ; yet he only puts himself among them because he
was the apostle of the Gentiles. The gross absurdity of
this may appear from what was said before. But besides
the things which have been already observed, there are
some things which make it peculiarly unreasonable to
understand it so here. It is true, the greater part of the
church of Ephesus had been heathens, and therefore the
apostle often lias reference to their heathen state, in this
epistle. But the words in this chap. ii. 3. plainly show,
that he means himself and other Jews in distinction from
the Gentiles ; for the distinction is fully expressed. After
he had told the Ephesians, who had been generally heathen,
that they had been dead in sin, and had walked according
to the course of this world, &c. (ver. 1, and 2.) he makes
a distinction, and says, " among whom we also had our
conversation, &c. and were by nature children of wrath,
even as others." Here first he changes the person ; where
as, before he had spoken in the second person, " ye were
dead, — ye in time past walked," &c. now he changes style,
and uses the first person, in a most manifest distinction,
among whom we also, that is, we Jews, as well as ye Gen
tiles : not only changing the person, but adding a particle
of distinction, also; which would be nonsense, if he
meant the same without distinction. And besides all this,
more fully to express the distinction, the apostle further
adds a pronoun of distinction ; we also, even as others,
or we as well as others : most evidently having respect to
the notions, so generally entertained by the Jews, of their
being much better than the Gentiles, in being Jeuis by
nature, children of Abraham, and children of God ; when
they supposed the Gentiles to be utterly cast off, as born
aliens, and by nature children of wrath : in opposition to
this, the apostle says, " We Jews, after all our glorying in
our distinction, were by nature children of wrath, as well
as the rest of the world." And a yet further evidence, that
the apostle here means to include the Jews, and even him-
xi. 14. Gal. ii. 15. and iv. 8. Jam. iii. 7. twice m that verse, nnd 2 Pet
i. 1.

Sect. III.

PROOFS FROM ROM. V. 6-10, Sec.

199

self, is the universal term he uses. Among whom also we
all had our conversation, &c. Though wickedness was
supposed by the Jews to be the course of this world, as to
the generality of mankind, yet they supposed themselves
an exempt people, at least the Pharisees, and the devout
observers of the law of Moses and traditions of the elders ;
whatever might be thought of publicans and harlots. But
in opposition to this, the apostle asserts, that they all were
no better by nature than others, but were to be reckoned
among the children of disobedience, and children of wrath.
Besides, if the apostle chooses to put himself among the
Gentiles, because he was the apostle of the Gentiles, I
would ask, why does he not do so in the 11th verse of the
same chapter, v\ here he speaks of the Gentile state express
ly 7 " Remember that ye. being in time past Gentiles in
the flesh." Why does he here make a distinction between
me Gentiles and himself? Why did he not say, Let us
remember, that we being in time past Gentiles ? And why
does the same apostle, even universally, make the same
distinction, speaking either in the second or third person,
and never in the first, where he expressly speaks of the
Gentilism of those to whom he wrote, or of whom he
speaks, with reference to their distinction from the Jews ?
So every where in this same epistle; as in chap. i. 12, 13.
where the distinction is made just in the same manner as
here, by the change of the person, and by the distinguish
ing particle, also : " That we should be to the praise of
his glory who first trusted in Christ, (the first believers in
Christ being of the Jews, before the Gentiles were called,)
in whom yc also trusted, after that ye heard the word of
truth, the gospel of your salvation. And in all the fol
lowing part of this second chapter, as ver. 11, 17, 19, and
22. in which last verse the same distinguishing particle
again is used ; " In whom ye also are builded together for
an habitation of God through the Spirit."*
Though I am far from thinking our author's exposition
ofthe 7th chap, of Romans to be in any wise agreeable to
the true sense of the apostle, yet it is needless here to stand
particularly to examine it ; because the doctrine of original
sin may be argued not the less strongly, though we should
allow the thing wherein he mainly differs from such as he
opposes in his interpretation, viz. That the apostle does not
speak in his own name, or to represent the state of a true
Christian, but as representing the state of the Jews under
the law. For even on this supposition, the drift of the
place will prove, that every one who is under the law, and
with equal reason every one of mankind, is carnal, sold
under sin, in his first state, and till delivered by Christ. For
it is plain, that the apostle's design is to show the insuf
ficiency of the law to give life to any one whatsoever.
This appears by what he says when he comes to draw his
conclusion, in the continuation of this discourse ; chap. viii.
3. j " For what the law could not do in that it was weak
through the flesh, God sending his own Son," &c. Our
author .supposes what is here spoken of, viz. " that the law
cannot give life, because it is weak through the flesh," is
true with respect to every one of mankind. \ And when the
apostle gives this reason, in. that it is weak through the flesh,
it is plain, that by the_?es/i, which here he opposes to the
spirit, he means the same thing which in the preceding
part of the same discourse, in the foregoing chapter, he
had called by the name flesh, ver. 5, 14, 18. and the law
of the members, ver. 23. and the body of death, ver. 24.
This is what, through this chapter, he insists on as the
grand hinderance why the law could not give life ; just as he
does in his conclusion, chap. viii. 3. Which, in his last
place, is given as a reason why the law cannot give life to
any of mankind. And it being the same reason of the same
thing, spoken of in the sume discourse, in the former part of
it — this last place being the conclusion, of which that
former part is the premises — and inasmuch as the reason
there given is being in the flesh, and being carnal, sold under
sin : therefore, taking the whole of the apostle's discourse,
this is justly understood to be a reason why the law cannot
give life to any of mankind ; and consequently, that all
* See also the following chapters, chap. iii. 6. and iv. 17. And not only in
this epistle, but constantly in other epistles; asRoin i. 12, 13. chap. xi. 13,
14, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21 , 22, 23, 24, 25, 28, 30, 31. chap. xv. 15. 16. 1 Cor. xii. 2.
Gal. iv. & Col. i. 27. chap. ii. 13. 1 Thess. i. 5, 6, 9. chap. ii. 13, 14, 15, 16.
t Dr. T. himself reckons this a part ofthe same discourse or paragraph,
in the division he makes of the epistle, in hisparaphrase, and notes upon it.

mankind are in the flesh, and are carnal, sold under sin, and
so remain till delivered by Christ : and consequently, all
mankind in their first original state are very sinful ; which
was the thing to be proved.

CHAP. IV.
CONTAINING OBSERVATIONS ON ROM. V. 12, TO THE END.
Sect. I.
Remarks on Dr. T.'s way of explaining this text.
The following things are worthy of notice, concerning
our author's exposition of this remarkable passage.
I. He greatly insists, that by death in this place no more
is meant, than that death which we all die, when this pre
sent life is extinguished, and the body returns to the dust.
That no more is meant in the 12, 14, 15, and 17th verses,
(p. 27.) he declares as evidently, clearly, and infallibly so,
because the apostle is still discoursing on the same subject ;
plainly implying, that infallibly the apostle means no more
by death, throughout this paragraph on the subject. But
as infallible as this is, if we believe what Dr. T. says else
where, it must needs be otherwise : for (p. 120. S.) speak
ing of those words in Rom. vi. 23. " The wages of sin is
death, but the gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus
Christ our Lord," he says, " Death in this place is widely
different from the death we now die ; as it stands there op
posed to eternal life, which is the gift of God through Jesus
Christ, it manifestly signifies eternal death, the second
death, or that death which they shall hereafter die, who
live after the flesh." But the death (in the conclusion of
the paragraph we are upon) that comes by Adam, and the
life that comes by Christ, (in the last verse of the chapter,)
is opposed to eternal life just in the same manner as in the
last verse of the next chapter : " That as sin has reigned
unto death, even so might grace reign through righteous
ness, unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord." So
that by our author's own argument, death in this place also,
is manifestly widely different from the death we now die, as
it stands here opposed to eternal life, through Jesus Christ ;
and signifies eternal death, the second death. And yet this
is a part of the same discourse, begun in the 12th verse ; as
reckoned by Dr. T. himself in his division of paragraphs,
in his paraphrase and notes on the epistle. So that if we
will follow him, and admit his reasonings in the various
parts of his book, here is manifest proof, against infallible
evidence ! So that it is true, the apostle throughout this
whole passage on the same subject, by death, evidently,
clearly, and infallibly means no more than that death we now
die, when this life is extinguished ; and yet by death, in
some part of this passage, is meant something widely dif
ferent from the death we now die — manifestly eternal
death, the second death.
But had our author been more consistent with himself,
in laying it down as certain and infallible, that because the
apostle has a special respect to temporal death, in the 14th
verse, " Death reigned from Adam to Moses," therefore
he means no more in the several consequent parts of this
passage, yet he is doubtless too confident and positive in
this matter. This is no more evident, clear, and infallible,
than that Christ meant by perishing — in Luke xiii. 5. when
he says, I tell you, Nay, but except ye repent, ye shall all
likewise perish — no more than such a temporal death, as
came on those who died by the fall of the tower of Siloam,
spoken of in the preceding words of the same speech ; and
no more infallible, than that by life, Christ means no more
than this temporal life, in each part of that one sentence —
Matt. x. 39. " He that findeth his life shall lose it ; and
he that loseth his life for my sake, shall find it" — because
in the first part of each clause he has respect especially to
temporal life. §
t See note on Rom. v. 20. .
§ There are many places parallel with these, as John xi. 25, 26. *' I am the
resurrection and the life : he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet
shall he live : and whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die."
Here both the words, life and death, are used with this variation ; "lam
the resurrection and the life," meaning spiritual and eternal life ; " He that

200

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

The truth of the case, with respect to what the apostle
here intends by the word death, is this, viz. The whole of
that death which he, and the Scripture every where, speaks
of as the proper wages and punishment of sin, including
death temporal, spiritual, and eternal; though in some
parts of this discourse he has a more special respect to one
part of this whole, in others to another, as his argument
leads htm ; without any more variation than is quite com
mon in'the same discourse. That life, which the Scrip
ture speaks of as the reward of righteousness, is a whole
containing several parts, viz. The life of the body, union
of soul and body, and the most perfect sensibility, activity,
and felicity of both, which is the chief thing. In like
manner the death, which the Scripture speaks of as the
punishment of sin, is a whole including the death of the
body and the death o£ the soul, and the eternal, sensible,
perfect destruction and misery of both. It is this latter
whole, that the apostle speaks of by the name of death in
this discourse, in Rom. v. though in some sentences he
has a more special respect to one part, in others to another :
and this, without changing the signification of the word.
For having respect to several things included in the exten
sive signification ofthe word, is not the same thing as using
the word in several distinct significations. As for instance,
the appellative, man, or the proper name of any particular
man, is the name of a whole, including the different parts
of soul and body. And if any one in speaking of James
or John, should say, he was a wise man, and a beautiful
man ; in the former part ofthe sentence, respect would be
had more especially to his soul, in the latter to his body,
in the word man : but yet without any proper change of
the signification of the name to distinct senses. In John
xxi. 7:' it is said, Peter was naked, and in the following
part of the same story it is said, Peter was grieved. In
the former proposition, respect is had especially to his
"body, in the latter to his-soul : but yet here is no proper
change'of the meaning "of the name, Peter. And as to the
apostle's use of the word death in the passage now under
consideration, on the supposition that he in general means
the whole of that death which is the wages of sin, there is
nothing but what is perfectly natural in supposing that —
in order to evince that death, the proper punishment of sin,
comes on all mankind in consequence of Adam's sin — he
should take notice of that part of this punishment which is
visible in this world, and which every body therefore sees
does in fact come on all mankind, (as in ver. 14.) And
is it not equally natural from thence to infer, that all man
kind are exposed to the whole of that death which is the
proper punishment of sin, whereof temporal death is a part,
and a visible image of the whole, and (unless changed by
divine grace) an introduction to the principal, and infinitely
the most dreadful, part?
II. Dr. T.'s explanation of this passage makes wholly
insignificant those first words, By one man sin entered into
the world, and leaves this proposition without any sense at
all. The apostle had been largely and elaborately repre
senting, how the whole world was full of sin, both among
Jews and Gentiles, and all exposed to death and con
demnation. It is plain, that in these words he would tell
us how this came to pass, namely, that the sorrowful event
came by one man, even the first man. That the world was
full of sin, and full of death, were two great and notori
ous facts, deeply affecting the interests of mankind; and
they seemed very wonderful facts, drawing the attention of
the more thinking part of mankind every where, who often
asked this question, Whence comes evil, moral and natural
evil ? It is manifest, the apostle here means to tell us, how
these came into the world, and came to prevail in it as they
do. But all that is meant, according to Dr. T.'s interpre
tation, is, " He begun transgression." * As if all that the
apostle meant, was, to tell us who happened to sin first;
not how such a malady came upon the worTd, or how any
one in the world, besides Adam himself, came by such a
distemper. The words of the apostle, " By one man sin
entered into the world, and death by sin,'' show the design
believeth in me, though he were dead," having respect to temporal death,
"yet shall he live," with respect to spiritual life, and the restoration ofthe
life ofthe body. " And whosoever livetb and believeth in me, shall never
die," meaning a spiritual and eternal death- So in John vi. 49, 50. " Your
fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead," having respect
chiefly to temporal death. " This is the- bread which cometh down from

p. II. Ch. IV.
to be, to tell us how these evils came, as affecting the state
of the world ; and not only as reaching one man in the
world. If this were not plain enough in itself, the words
immediately following demonstrate it ; " And so death
passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." By sin being
in the world, the apostle does not mean being in the world
only in that one instance of Adam's first transgression, but
being abroad in the world, among the inhabitants of the
earth, in a wide extent, and continued series of wickedness ;
as is plain in the first words of the next verse, " For until
the law, sin was in the world." And therefore when he
gives us an account how it came to be .in the world, or,
which is the same thing, how it entered into the world, he
does not mean only coming in one instance.
If the case were as Dr. T represents, that the sin of
Adam, either in its pollution or punishment, reached none
but himself, any more than the sin of any other man, it
would be no more proper to say, that by one man sin entered
into the world, than if — were it inquired, how mankind
came into America, and there had anciently been a ship
of the Phenicians wrecked at sea, and a single man of the
crew was driven on this continent, and here died as soon as
he reached the shore — it should be said, By that one man
mankind came into America.
Besides, it is not true, that by one man, or by Adam, sin
entered into the world, in Dr. T.'s sense : for it was not
he but Eve that began transgression. By one man Dr. T.
understands Adam, as the figure of Christ. And it is plain,
that it was for his transgression, and not Eve's, that the
sentence of death was pronounced on mankind after the
fall, Gen. iii. 19. It appears unreasonable to suppose the
apostle means to include Eve, when he speaks of Adam;
for he lays great stress on it, that it was by one, repeating
it several times.
III. In like manner this author brings to nothing the
sense of the causal particles, in such phrases as these, so
often repeated, "Death by sin," ver. 12. " If through the
offence of one, many be dead," ver. 15. "by one that
sinned,— judgment was by one to condemnation," ver. 16.
" By one man's offence, death reigned by one," ver. 17.
" By the offence of one, judgment came upon all," &c. ver.
18. " By one man's disobedience," ver. 19. These
causal particles, so variously repeated, unless we make
mere nonsense of the discourse, signify some connexion
and dependence, by some sort of influence of that sin of
one man, or some tendency to that effect, which is so often
said to come by it. But according to Dr. T. there can be
no real dependence or influence in the case, of any sort
whatsoever. There is no connexion by any natural influ
ence of that one act to make all mankind mortal. Our
author does not pretend to account for this effect in any
such manner, but in another most diverse, viz. A gracious
act of God, laying mankind under affliction, toil, and death,
from special favour and kindness. Nor can there be any
dependence of this effect on that transgression of Adam, by
any moral influence, as deserving such a consequence, or
exposing to it on any moral account : for he supposes, that
mankind are not in this way exposed to the least degree of
evil. Nor has this effect any legal dependence on that sin,
or any connexion by virtue of any antecedent constitution,
which God had established, with Adam : for he insists, that
in that threatening, " In the day thou eatest thou shalt
die," there is not a word said of his posterity, (p. 8.)
And death on mankind, according to him, cannot come by
virtue of that legal constitution with Adam ; because the
sentence by which it came was after the annulling and
abolishing that constitution, (p. 113. S.) And it is mani
fest, that this consequence cannot be through any kind of
tendency of that sin to such an effect ; because the effect
comes only as a .benefit, and is the fruit of mere favour :
but sin has no tendency, either natural or moral, to bene
fits, and divine favours. And thus that sin of Adam could
neither be the efficient cause, nor the procuring cause ;
neither the natural, moral, nor legal cause ; nor an excit
ing and moving cause, any more than Adam's eating of
heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die," i. e. by the loss of spiri
tual life, and by eternal death. (See also ver. 58.) And in the next verse,
" If any man eatof tbisbread.be shalllive for ever," have eternal life. So
ver. 54. See another like instance, John v. 24—29.
* Page 56.

\ Sect. I.

REMARKS ON ROM. V 12, &c.

201

any other tree of the garden. And the only real relation
' \that the effect can have to that sin, is a relation as to time,
viz. that it is after it. And when the matter is closely ex
amined, the whole amounts to no more than this, that
God is pleased, of his mere good will and pleasure, to be
stow a greater favour upon us, than he did upon Adam in
innocency, after that sin of his eating the forbidden fruit ;
which sin we are no more concerned in, than in the sin of
the king of Pegu, or the emperor of China.
IV. It is altogether inconsistent with the apostle's
scope, and the import of what he says, to suppose that
the death of which he here speaks, as coming on man
kind by Adam's sin, comes not as a punishment, but only
as a favour. It quite makes void the opposition, in which
the apostle sets the consequences of Adam's sin, and the
consequences of the grace and righteousness of Christ.
They are set in opposition to each other, as opposite
effects, arising from opposite causes, throughout the para
graph : one, as the just consequence of an offence ; the
other, a free gift, ver. 15 — 18. Whereas, according to this
scheme, there is no such opposition in the case ; both are
benefits, and both are free gifts. A very wholesome me
dicine to save from perishing, ordered by a kind father, or
a shield to preserve from an enemy, bestowed by a friend,
is as much a free gift as pleasant food. The death that
comes by Adam, is set in opposition to the life and hap
piness that comes by Christ, as being the fruit of sin, and
judgment for sin : when the latter is the fruit of divine
grace, ver. 15, 17, 20, 21. Whereas, according to our
author, both came by grace. Death comes on mankind
by the free kindness and love of God, much more truly
and properly than by Adam's sin. Dr. T. speaks of it as
coming by occasion of Adam's sin : but, as I have ob
served, it is an occasion without any influence. Yet the
proper cause is God's grace. So that the true cause is
wholly good. Which, by the way, is directly repugnant
to the apostle's doctrine in Rom. vii. 13. "Was then that
which is good made death unto me 7 God forbid. But
sin, that it might appear sin, working death in me by that
which is good." Where the apostle utterly rejects any
such suggestion, as though that which is good were the
jrroper cause of death ; and signifies that sin is the proper
cause, and that which is good, only the occasion. But ac
cording to this author, the reverse is true : that which is
good in the highest sense, even the love of God, and a di
vine gracious constitution, is the proper cause of death, and
sin only the occasion.
But to return, it is plain, that death by Adam, and life
and happiness by Christ, are here set in opposition : the
latter being spoken of as good, the other as evil; one as
the effect of righteousness, the other of an offence ; one of
the fruit of obedience, the other of disobedience ; one as the
fruit of God's favour, in consequence of what was pleasing
and acceptable to him, but the other the fruit of his displea
sure, in consequence of what was displeasing and hateful to
him ; the latter coming by justification, the former by the
condemnation of the subject. But according to the scheme
of our author, there can be no opposition in any of these
respects : the death here spoken of, neither comes as an
evil, nor from an evil cause ; either an evil efficient cause,
or procuring cause, nor at all as any testimony of God's
displeasure to the subject, but as properly the effect of his
favour, no less than that which is spoken of as coming by
Christ; yea, as much as an act of justification of the
subject; as he understands and explains the word justifi
cation; for both are by a grant of favour, and are in
stances of mercy and goodness. And he abundantly in
sists upon it, that " any- grant of favour, any instance of
mercy and goodness, whereby God delivers and exempts
from any kind of danger, suffering, or calamity, or confers
any favour, blessing, or privilege, is called justification in
the scripture-sense and use ofthe word."*
Moreover, our author makes void the grand and funda
mental opposition — to illustrate which is the chief scope
of this whole passage — between the first and second Adam ;
in the death that comes by one, and the life and happiness
by the other. For, according to his doctrine, both come by
* Key, 1 374. where it is to be observed, that he himself puts the word any
in capital letters. The same thing in substance is often asserted elsewhere.
And this indeed is his main point in what he calls the true gospel-scheme.

Christ the second Adam ; both by his grace, righteousness,
and obedience : the death to which God sentenced man-
kitid (Gen. iii. 19.) being a great deal more properly and
truly by Christ, than by Adam. For, according to him,
that sentence was not pronounced on the basis of the
covenant with Adam ; because that was abrogated, and
entirely set aside, as he largely insists for many pages to
gether, (p. 113—120. S.) "This covenant with Adam
was disannulled immediately after Adam sinned. Even
before God passed sentence upon Adam, grace was intro
duced." "The death that mankind are the subjects of
now, stands under the covenant of grace. — In the coun
sel and appointment of God, it stood in this very light,
even before the sentence of death was pronounced upon
Adam : and consequently, death is no proper and legal
punishment of sin." And he often insists, that it comes
only as a favour and benefit ,• and standing, as he says,
under the covenant of grace, which is by Christ, therefore
is truly one of the benefits of the new covenant, which
comes by Christ, the second Adam. For he himself is
decided, to use his own words,f " That all the grace of
the gospel is dispensed to us, in, by, or through the Son
of God." " Nothing is clearer (says he J) from the whole
current of Scripture, than that all the mercy and love of
God, and all the blessings of the gospel, from first to last,
are in, by, and through Christ, and particularly by his
blood, by the redemption that is in him. This can bear
no 'dispute among Christians." What then becomes of
all this discourse of the apostle's, about the great differ
ence and opposition between Adam and Christ ; as death
is by one, and eternal life and happiness by the other?
This grand distinction between the two Adams, it seems,
and the other instances of opposition and difference here
insisted on — as between the effects of sin and righteous
ness, the consequences of obedience and disobedience, of the
offence and the free gift, judgment and grace, condemna
tion and justification — all come to nothing. And this whole
discourse of the apostle, wherein he seems to labour much,
as if it were to set forth some very grand and most impor
tant distinction and oppositions in the state of things, as
derived from the two great heads of mankind, proves no
thing but a multitude of words without meaning, or rather
a heap of inconsistencies.
V. Our author's own doctrine entirely makes void what
he supposes to be the apostle's argument, in the 13th and
14th verses, in these words ; " For until the law, sin was
in the world : but sin is not imputed where there is no
law. Nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses,
even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of
Adam's transgression."
What he supposes the apostle would prove here, is,
that the mortality of mankind comes only by Adam's sin,
and not by men's personal sins, because there was no law
threatening death to Adam's posterity for personal sins,
before the law of Moses ; but death, or the mortality of
Adam's posterity, took place many ages before the law was
given ; therefore death could not be by any law threaten
ing death for personal sins, and consequently could be by
nothing but Adam's sin.§ On this I would observe,
1. That which he supposes the apostle to take for a
truth in this argument, viz. That there was no law of God
in being, by which men were exposed to death for per
sonal sin, during the time from Adam to Moses, is neither
true, nor agreeable to this apostle's own doctrine.
First, The assertion is not true. For the law of nftture,
written in men's hearts, was then in being, and was a law
by which men were exposed to death for personal sin.
That there was a divine establishment, fixing the death
and destruction of the sinner as the consequence of per
sonal sin, which was well known before the giving of the
law by Moses, is plain by many passages in the book of
Job, as fully and clearly implying a connexion between
such sin and such a punishment, as any passage in the
law of Moses: such as that in Job xxiv. 19. " Drought
and heat consume the snow-waters ; so doth the grave
them that have sinned." (Compare ver. 20, and 24.) AlsOi
chap, xxxvi. 6. " He preserveth not the life of the wicked."

t Key, chap. viii. title, p. 44.
§ Page 40, 41, 42, 57. and often elsewhere,

t Key, § 145.

202

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. IV.

Chap. xxi. 29 — 32. " Have ye not asked them that go by
the way ? and do ye not know their tokens 7 That the
wicked is reserved to the day of destruction ; they shall
be brought forth to the day of wrath." Ver. 32. " He
shall be brought to the grave.""
Secondly. To suppose that there is no law in being, by
which men are exposed to death for personal sins, when a
revealed law of God is not in being, is contrary to our
apostle's own doctrine in this epistle. Rom. ii. 12, 14, 15.
" For as many as have sinned without law (i. e. the re
vealed law) shall perish without law." But how they can
be exposed to die and perish, who have not the law of
Moses, nor any revealed law, the apostle shows us in the
14th and 15th verses ; viz. in that they have the law of
nature, by which they fall under sentence to this punish
ment. " For when the Gentiles, which have not the law,
do by nature the things contained in the law, these having
not the law, are a law to themselves ; which show the
work of the law written in their hearts ; their conscience
also bearing witness." — Their conscience not only bore wit
ness to the duty prescribed by this law, but also to the punish
ment before spoken of, as that which they who sinned with
out law, were liable to suffer, viz. that they should perish.
In which the apostle is yet more express, chap. i. 32.
speaking more especially of the heathen, " Who knowing
the judgment of God, that they which commit such things
are worthy of death." Dr. T. often calls the law the rule
of right ; and this rule of right sentenced those sinners to
death, who were not under the law of Moses, according to
this author's own paraphrase of this verse, in these words,
" The heathen were not ignorant of the rule of right, which
God had implanted in the human nature ; and which shows
that they which commit such crimes, are deserving of
death." And he himself supposes Abraham, who lived
between Adam and Moses, to be under law, by which he
would have been exposed to punishment without hope, were
it not for the promise of grace.— (Paraph, on Rom. iv. 15.)
So that in our author's way of explaining the passage
before us, the grand argument which the apostle insists
upon here to prove his main point, viz. that death does not
come by men's personal sins, but by Adam's sin, because
it came before the law was given, that threatened death
for personal sin ; I say, this argument which Dr. T. sup
poses so clear and strong, f is brought to nothing more than
a mere shadow without substance ; the very foundation of
the argument having no truth. To say, there was no such
law actually expressed in any standing revelation, would
be mere trifling. For it no more appears, that God would
not bring tempor'dl death for personal sins without a stand
ing revealed law threatening it, than that he would not
bring eternal death before there was a revealed law threat
ening that : which yet wicked men that lived in Noah's
time, were exposed to, as appears by 1 Pet. iii. 19, 20.
and which Dr. T. supposes all mankind are exposed to by
their personal sins; and he himself says, J " Sin in its
own unalterable nature leads to death." Yea, it might
be argued with as much strength of reason, that God could
bring on men no punishment at all for any sin, that was
committed from Adam to Moses, because there was no
standing revealed law then extant threatening any punish
ment. It may here be properly observed, that our author
supposes, the shortening of man's days, and hastening of
death, entered into the world by the sin ofthe antediluvians,
in the same sense as death and mortality entered into the
world by Adam's sin. 5 But where was there any stand
ing revealed law for that, though the event was so uni
versal 7 If God might bring this on all mankind, on oc
casion of other men's sins, for which they deserved nothing,
without a revealed law, what could there be to hinder God
bringing death on men for their personal sins, for which
their own consciences tell them they deserve death with
out a revealed law 7
2. If from Adam to Moses there had been no law in
being, of any kind, revealed or natural, by which men
could be properly exposed to temporal death for personal
sin, yet the mention of Moses's law would have been
* See also Job iv. 7, 8. 9. Chap. xv. 17—35. Chap, xviii. 5—21. xix. 29. and
xx. 4— 8. and ver. 23— 29. Chap. xxi. 16— 18, 20^26. xxii. 13— 20. and xxvii
11, to the end. Chap. xxxi. 3,23. xxxiii. 18, 22, 23, 24, 28, 30. xxxiv. 11. 21-
26. xxxvii 12, 18, 19, 20. and xxxviii. 13.
t Page 117. S. ; Page 77, 78. § Page 63.

wholly impertinent, and of no signification in the argu
ment, according to our author. He su pposes that what
the apostle would prove, is, that temporal death comes by
Adam ; and not by any law threatening such a punish
ment for personal sin ; because this death prevailed before
the law of Moses was in being, which is the only law
threatening death for personal sin. And yet he himself
supposes, that the law of Moses, when it was in being,
threatened no such death for personal sin. For he abun
dantly asserts, that the death which the law of Moses
threatened for personal sin, was eternal death, as has been
already noted : and he says in express terms, that eternal
death is of a nature widely different from the death we now
die ;\\ as was also observed, before.
flow impertinently therefore does Dr. T. make an in
spired writer argue, when, according to him, the apostle
would prove, that this kind of death did not come by any
law threatening this kind of death, because it came before
the existence of a law threatening another kind of death,
of a nature widely different ! How is it to the apostle's
f impose, to fix on that period, the time of giving Moses's
aw, as if that had been the period wherein men began to
be threatened with this punishment for their personal sins,
when in truth it was no such thing 7 And therefore it was
no more to this purpose to fix on that period, from Adam
to Moses, than from Adam to David, or any other period
whatsoever. Dr. T. holds, that even now, since the law
of .Moses has been given, the mortality of mankind, or the
death we now die, does not come by that law ; but that it
always comes only by Adam. % And if it never comes
by that law, we may be sure it never was threatened in that
law. 3. If we should allow the argument in Dr. T.'s sense
of it, to prove that death does not come by personal sin, yet
it will be wholly without force to prove the main point,
even that it must come by Adam's sin : for it might come
by God's sovereign and gracious pleasure ; as innumerable
other divine benefits do. If it be ordered, agreeable to
our author's supposition, not as a punishment, nor as a ca
lamity, but only as a favour, what necessity of any settled
constitution, or revealed sentence, in order to bestow such
a favour, more than other favours ; and particularly more
than that great benefit, which he says entered into the
world by the sin of the antediluvians, the shortening men's
lives so much after the flood 7 Thus the apostle's arguing,
by Dr. T.'s explanation of it, is turned into mere trifling,
a vain and impertinent use of words, without any real force
or significance.
VI. The apostle here speaks of that great benefit which
we have by Christ, as the antitype of Adam, under the
notion of the fruit of grace. I do not mean only that
superabounding of grace wherein the benefit we have by
Christ goes beyond the damage sustained by Adam ; but
that benefit, with regard to which Adam was the figure of
him that was to come, and which is as it were the' counter
part ofthe suffering by Adam, and which repairs the loss we
have by him. This is here spoken of as the fruit of the free
grace of God; (as appears by ver. 15—18, 20, 21.) which
according to our author, is the restoring of mankind, to that
life which they lost in Adam: and he himself supposes this
restoration of life by Christ to be what grace does for us,
and calls it the free gift of God, and the grace and favour
of the lawgiver.** And' speaking of this restoration, he
breaks out in admiration of the unspeakable riches of this
grace, ff
But it follows from his^ doctrine, that there is no grace
at all in this benefit, and it is no more than a mere act of
justice, being only a removing of what mankind suffer,
being innocent. Death, as it commonly comes on man
kind, and even on infants, (as has been observed,) is an
extreme, positive calamity ; to bring which on the perfectly
innocent, unremedied, and without any thing to countervail
it, we are sufficiently taught, is not consistent with the
righteousness of the judge of all the earth. What grace
therefore, worthy of being so celebrated, would there be in
affording remedy and relief, after there had been brought on
_%_? '-20' ,S- Pe says *" thc like PurPose in his note on Rom. v. 17.
T This is plain by what he says, p. 38, 40, 53 117 s
o" Page 39, 70 148. 27. S. See also contents of this paragraph in Rom
v. in his notes on the epistle, and Iris note on ver 15 16 17 v
tt Page 119. S. ¦ , , .

Sect. 1.

REMARKS ON ROM. V. 12, &c.

203

innocent mankind that which is (as Dr. T. himself repre
sents*) the dreadful and universal destruction of their
nature ; being a striking demonstration how infinitely
hateful sin is to God ! What grace in delivering from such
shocking ruin, them who did not deserve the least calamity !
Our author says, "We could not justly lose communion
with God by Adam's sin."f If so, then we could not
justly lose our lives, and be annihilated, after a course of
extreme pains and agonies of body and mind, without any
restoration ; which would be an eternal loss of communion
with God, and all other good, besides the positive suffering.
The apostle, throughout this passage, represents the death
which is the consequence of Adam's transgression, as
coming in a way of judgment and condemnation for sin ;
but deliverance and life through Christ, as by grace, and
the free gift of God. Whereas, on the contrary, by Dr.
T.'s scheme, the death that comes by Adam, comes by
trace, great grace ; it being a great benefit, ordered in
ttherly love and kindness, and on the basis of a covenant
of grace : but in the deliverance and restoration by Christ,
there is no grace at all. So things are turned topsy-turvy,
the apostle^ scope and scheme entirely inverted and con
founded. VII. Dr. T. explains the words, judgment, condemna
tion, justification, and righteousness, as used in this place
in a very unreasonable manner.
I will first consider the sense he puts upon the two
former, judgment and condemnation. He often calls this
condemnation a judicial act, and a sentence of condemna
tion. But, according to his scheme, it is a judicial sentence
of condemnation passed upon them who are perfectly
innocent— and viewed by the judge, even in passing the
condemnatory sentence, "as having no guilt of sin, or any
fault at all chargeable upon them— and a judicial proceed
ing, passing sentence arbitrarily, without any law or rule
of right before established. 'For there was no preceding
law threatening death, that he or any one else ever pre
tended to have been established, but only this, " In the
day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." And
concerning this he insists, that there is not a word said in
it of Adam's posterity. So that the condemnation spoken
of, is a sentence of condemnation to death, for, or in
consequence of, the sin of Adam, without any law by
which that sin could be imputed to bring any such conse
quence ; contrary to the apostle's plain scope. And not
only so, but, over and above all this, it is a judicial sentence
of condemnation to that which is no calamity, nor is con
sidered as such in the sentence ; but a condemnation to a
great favour !
The apostle uses the words judgment and condemnation
in other places ; they are no strange and unusual terms
with him : but never are they used by him in this sense,
or any like it ; nor are they ever used thus any where
else in the New Testament. This apostle, in this epistle
to the Romans, often speaks of condemnation, using the
same or similar terms and phrases as here, but never in
the abovesaid sense-! This will be plain to every one who
casts his eye on those places. And if we look into the
former part of this chapter, the apostle's discourse makes
it evident, that he is speaking of a condemnation, which
is no testimony of favour to the innocent ; but of God's
displeasure towards' those to whom he is not reconciled,
hut looks on as offenders and enemies, and holds as the
objects of his wrath, from which we are delivered by
Christ. (See ver. 6—11.)
And even viewing this discourse itself, in the very para
graph we are upon, if we may judge any thing by lan
guage, there is every thing to lead us to suppose, that the
apostle uses words here, as he does elsewhere, property,
and as implying a supposition of sin, chargeable on the
subject, and exposing to punishment. He speaks of con
demnation as what comes by sin, a condemnation to death,
which seems to be a most terrible evil, and capital punish
ment, even in what is temporal and visible ; and this m
the way of judgment and execution of justice, in opposition
to grace or' favour, and gift or a benefit coming by favour.
And sin, offence, transgression, and disobedience are, over
and over again, spoken of as the ground of the condem-
. S?eeSchap. ii. 1 , 2, 3. six times in these vcrsSTalf ver. 12 and 27. and

nation, and of the capital suffering, for ten verses succes
sively ; that is, in every verse in the whole paragraph.
The words, justification and righteousness, are explained
by Dr. T. in a manner no less unreasonable. He under
stands justification, in ver. 18. and righteousness, in ver.
19. in such a sense, as to suppose they belong to all, and
are actually to be applied to all mankind, good and bad,
believers and unbelievers ; to the worst enemies of God,
remaining such, as well as his peculiar favourites, and
many that never had any sin imputed to them ; meaning
thereby no more than what is fulfilled in an universal
resurrection from the dead, at the last day.§ Now this is
a most arbitrary, forced sense. Though these terms are
used all over the New Testament, yet nothing like such an
use of them is to be found in any one instance. The
words justify, justification, and righteousness, as from God
to men, are never used but to signify a privilege belonging
only to some, and that which is peculiar to distinguished
favourites. This apostle in particular, above all the other
"writers ofthe New Testament, abounds in the use of these
terms ; so that we have all imaginable opportunity to
understand his language, and know the sense in which he
uses these words : but he never elsewhere uses them in
the sense supposed here, nor is there any pretence that he
does. Above all, this apostle abounds m the use of these
terms in this epistle. Justification is the subject he had
been upon through all the preceding part of the epistle.
It was the grand subject of all the foregoing chapters, and
the preceding, part of this chapter, where these terms are
continually repeated. And the word, justification, is con
stantly used to signify something peculiar to believers, who
had been sinners ; implying some reconciliation and for
giveness of sin, and special privilege in nearness to God,
above the rest of the world. Yea, the word is constantly
used thus, according to Dr. T's own explanations, in his
paraphrase and notes on this epistle. And there is not the
least reason to suppose but that he is still speaking of the
same justification, which he had dwelt upon from the be
ginning to this place. He speaks of justification and
righteousness here, just in the same manner as he had done
in the preceding part of the epistle. He had all along
spoken of justification as standing in relation to sin, dis
obedience to God, and offence against him, and so he
does here. He had before been speaking of justification
through free grace, and so he does here. He before had
been speaking of justification through righteousness, as in
Christ Jesus, and so he does here.
And if we look into the former part of this very chapter,
we shall find justification spoken of just in the same sense
as in the rest of the epistle ; which is also supposed by
our author in his exposition. It is still justification by
faith, justification of them who had been sinners, justifica
tion attended with reconciliation, justification peculiar to
them who had the love of God shed abroad in their hearts.
The apostle's foregoing 'discourse on justification by grace
through faith— and what he had so greatly insisted on as
the evidence of the truth of this doctrine, even the uni
versal sinfulness of mankind in their original state— is
plainly what introduces this discourse in the latter part of
this 5th chapter ; where he shows how all mankind came
to be sinful and miserable, and so to need this grace of
God, and righteousness of Christ. And therefore we
cannot, without the most absurd violence, suppose any
other than that he is still speaking of the same justification.
And as to the universal expression used in the 18th
verse, " by the righteousness of one, the free gift came
upon all men to justification of life ;" it is needless here
to go into the controversy between the remonstrants and
anti-remonstrants, concerning universal redemption, and
their different interpretations of this place. If we take
the words even as the Arminians do ; yet, in their sense
of them, the free gift comes on all men to justification
only conditionally, i. e. provided they believe, repent, &c.
But in our author's sense, it actually comes on all, whether
they believe and repent, or not ; which certainly cannot be
inferred from the universal expression, as here used. Dr.
T. himself supposes, the main design of the apostle in
this universal phrase, all men, is to signify that the benefits
chap iii. 7. chap. viii. 1 and 3. chap. xiv. 3, 4. and ver. 10, 13, 22, and 23.
§ So page 47, 49, 60, 61, 62, and other places.

204

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. IV,

of Christ shall come on Gentiles as well as Jews* And
he supposes that the Many and the All, here signify the
same ; but it is quite certain, that all the benefits here
spoken of, which the apostle says are to the many, does
not actually come upon all mankind ; as particularly the
abounding of grace, ver. 15. " The grace of God, and the
gift by grace, hath abounded unto the many (eir tsv nUsr)."
This abounding of grace our author explains thus ; " a
rich overplus of grace, in erecting a new dispensation,
furnished with a glorious fund of light, means, and mo
tives," (p. 44.) But will any pretend, that all mankind
have actually been partakers of this new fund of light,
&c. How were the many millions of Indians, on the
American side of the globe, partakers of it, before the
Europeans came hither? Yea, Dr. T. himself supposes,
that it is only free for all that are witling to accept of it.f
The agreement between Adam as the type or figure of
him that was to come, and Christ as the anti-type, appears
full and clear, if we suppose that all who are in christ
(to use the common scripture phrase) have the benefit of
his obedience, even as all who are in adam have the
sorrowful fruit of his disobedience. The Scripture speaks
of believers as the seed or posterity of Christ. (Gal. iii.
29.) They axe in Christ by grace, as Adam's posterity are
in him by nature. See also 1 Cor. xv. 45 — 49. The
spiritual seed are those which this apostle often represents
as Christ's body : and the <» „o\Xoi here spoken of as made
righteous by Christ's obedience, are doubtless the same
with the oi iroWot which he speaks of in chap. xii. 5. We,
being many, are one body ; or, we, the many, oi „o\\oi e»
o_/ia etrfxev. And again, 1 Cor. X. 17. ev -_£la ot ttoWoi eayxev.
And the same which the apostle had spoken of in the pre
ceding chapter. (Rom. iv. 18. compared with Gen. xv. 5.)
Dr. T. insists much on 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22. " For since
by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of
the dead ; for as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be
made alive ;" to confirm his suppositions, that the apostle
in the 5th of Romans, speaking of the death and condem
nation which come by Adam, has respect only to the death
ve all die, when this life ends : and that by the justifica
tion and life which come by Christ, he has respect only to
the general resurrection at the last day. But it is observ
able, that his argument is wholly built on these two sup
positions, viz. First, that the resurrection meant by the
apostle, 1 Cor. xv. is the resurrection of all mankind, both
just and unjust. Secondly, That the opposite consequences
of Adam's sin, and Christ's obedience, in Rom. v. are the
very same, neither more nor less,-than are spoken of there.
But there are no grounds for supposing either of these
things to be true.
1. There is no evidence, that the resurrection there
spoken of, relates both to the just and unjust ; but abun
dant evidence of the contrary. The resurrection of the
wicked is seldom mentioned in the New Testament, and
rarely included in the meaning of the word ; it being
esteemed not worthy to be called a rising to life, being
only for a great increase of the misery and darkness of
eternal death : and therefore by the resurrection is most
commonly meant a rising to life and happiness .J The
saints are called the children of the resurrection, as Dr. T.
observes in his note on Rom! viii. 11. And it is exceed
ing evident, that it is the resurrection to life and happi
ness, which the apostle is speaking of in 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22.
As appears by each of the three foregoing verses. Ver.
18. " Then they which are fallen asleep in Christ (i. e. the
saints) are perished." Ver. 19. " If in this life only we
(Christians or apostles) have hope in Christ, (and have no
resurrection and eternal life to hope for,) we are of all men
most miserable." Ver. 20. " But now is Christ risen from
the dead, and is become the first-fruits of them that slept."
He is the forerunner and first-fruits only with respect to
them that are his ; who are to follow him, and partake
with him in the glory and happiness of his resurrection :
but he is not the first-fruits of them that shall come forth
to the resurrection of damnation. It also appears by the
verse immediately following, ver. 23. " But every man in
* Page 60, 61. See also contents of this paragraph, in his notes on the
epistle. t Notes on the epistle, page 284.
I As may be observed in Matt xxii. 30. Luke xx. 35, 36. John vi. 39, 40,
54. Philip, iii. 1 1 . and other places.

his own order ; Christ the first-fruits, and afterwards they
that are Christ's, at his coming." The same is plain by
what is said in verse 29 — 32. and by all that is said from
the 35th verse to the end of .the chapter, for twenty-three
verses together : it there expressly appears, that the apostle
is speaking only of a rising to glory, with a. glorious body,
as the little grain that is sown, being quickened, rises a
beautiful flourishing plant. He there speaks of the differ
ent degrees of glory among them that shall rise, and com
pares it to the different degrees of glory among the celestial
luminaries. The resurrection he treats of, is expressly,
being raised in incormption, in glory, in power, with, a
spiritual body, having the image of the second man, the
spiritual and heavenly Adam : a resurrection wherein this
corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal put on
immortality, and death be swallowed up in victory, and the
saints gloriously triumph over that last enemy. Dr. T.
himself says- what is in effect owning that the resurrection
here spoken of is only of the righteous ; for it is expressly
a resurrection ev adavaina, and a<p0apuia, (ver 53, and 42.)
But Dr. T. says, These are never attributed to the wicked
in Scripture.^ So that when the apostle says here, " As in
Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive ;" it is
as much as if he had said, As in Adam we all die, and our
bodies are sown in corruption, in dishonour, and in weak
ness : so in Christ we all (we Christians, whom I have been
all along speaking of) shall be raised in power, glory, and
incorruption, spiritual and heavenly, conformed to the
second Adam. .For as we have borne the image of the
earthy, we shall also bear the image of the Iteavenly, ver.
49. Which clearly explains and determines his meaning
in ver. 21, 22.
2. There is no evidence, that the benefit by the second
Adam, spoken of in Rom. v. is the very same (containing
neither more nor less) as the resurrection spoken of in
1 Cor. xv. It is no evidence of it, that the benefit is
opposed to the death that comes by the first Adam, in like
manner in both places. The resurrection to eternal life,
though it be not the whole of that salvation and happiness
which comes by the second Adam, yet is it that wherein
this salvation is principally obtained. The time of the
saints' glorious resurrection is often spoken of as the proper
time of their salvation, The day of their redemption, the
time of their adoption, glory, and recompence.|| All that
happiness which, is given before, is only a prelibation and
earnest of their great reward. Well therefore may that
consummate salvation bestowed on them, be set in oppo
sition to the death and ruin which comes by the first
Adam, in like manner as the whole of their. salvation is
opposed to the same in Rom. v. Dr. T. himself observes,1[
That the revival and resurrection of the body, is frequently
put for our advancement to eternal life. It being the high
est part, it is often put for the whole.
This notion, as if the justification, righteousness, and life
spoken of in Rom. v. implied the resurrection of damna
tion, is not only without ground from Scripture, but con
trary to reason. For those are there spoken of as great
benefits, by the grace and free gift of God : but this is the
contrary, in the highest degree possible ; the most con
summate calamity. To obviate this, our author supposes
the resurrection of all to be a great benefit in itself, though
turned into a calamity by the sin and folly of obstinate sin
ners, who abuse God's goodness. But the far greater part
of mankind, since Adam, have never had opportunity to
abuse this goodness, it having never been made known to
them. Men cannot abuse a kindness, which they never
had either in possession, promise, offer, or some intima
tion : but a resurrection is made known only by divine
revelation which few comparatively have enjoyed. So that
as to such wicked men as die in lands of darkness, if their
resurrection comes at all by Christ, it comes from him,
and to them, only as a curse, and not a blessing ; for it
never comes to them at all by any conveyance, grant, pro
mise, or offer, or any thing by which they can claim it, or
know any thing of it, till it comes as an infinite calamity,
past all remedy.
§ Note on Rom. viii. 27.
f| As in Luke xiv. 14. and xxi. 28. Rom. viii. 23. Eph. iv. 30, Colos. iii.
4. 2 Thess. i. 7. 2 Tim. iv. 8. 1 Pet. i. 13. and v. 4. 1 John iii. 2. and
other places.
TT Note on Rom. viii. 11.

Sect. I.

REMARKS ON ROM, V. 12, &c.

205

VIII. In a peculiar manner is there an unreasonable
violence used m our author's explanation of the words
sinners and sinned, in the paragraph before us. He says,
"These words, By one man's disobedience many were made
sinners, mean neither more nor less, than that by one man's
disobedience, the many were made subject to death, by
the judicial act of God'."* And he says in the same place,
" By death, most certainly, is meant no other than the
death and mortality common to all mankind." And
those words, ver. 12. " For that all have sinned," he thus
explains, " All men became sinners, as all mankind are
brought into a state of suffering."t Here I observe,
1 . The main thing, by which he justifies such interpre
tations, is, that sin, in various instances, is used for suffer
ing, in the Old Testament.! To which I reply ; though
it be true, that the original word (»_n) signifies both sin,
and a sin-offering — and though this, and some other
Hebrew words which signify sin, iniquity, and wickedness,
are sometimes put for the effect or punishment of iniquity,
by a metonymy of the cause for the effect — yet it does not
appear, that these words are ever used for suffering, where
that suffering is not a punishment, or a fruit of God's anger
for sin. And therefore none of the instances he mentions,
come up to his purpose. When Lot is commanded to
leave Sodom, that he might not be consumed in the
iniquity of the city, meaning in that fire which was the ef
fect and punishment of the iniquity of the city ; this is
quite another thing, than if that fire came on the city in
general, as no punishment at all, nor as any fruit of a
charge of iniquity, but as a token of God's favour to the
inhabitants. For according to Dr. T. the death of man
kind is introduced only as a benefit, from a covenant of
grace. And especially is this quite another thing, than if,
in the expression used, the iniquity had been ascribed to
Lot ; and God, instead of saying, Lest thou be consumed
in the iniquity of the city, had said, Lest thou be consumed
in thine iniquity, or, Lest thou sin, or be made a sinner.
Whereas the expression is such, as expressly removes the
iniquity spoken of from Lot, and fixes it on the city. The
place cited by our author in Jer. li. is exactly parallel.
And as to what Abimelech says to Abraham, " What have
I offended thee, that thou hast brought on me, and on my
kingdom, a great sin ?" It is manifest, Abimelech was
afraid that God was angry for what he had done to Sarah ;
or would have been angry with him, if he had done what
he was about to do, as imputing sin to him for it. Which
is a quite different thing from calling some calamity, sin,
under no notion of its being any punishment of sin, nor in
the least degree from God's displeasure. And so with re
gard to every place our author cites in the margin, it is
plain, that what is meant in each of them, is the punish
ment of sin, and not some suffering which is no punish
ment at all And as to the instances he mentions in his
Supplement, (p. 8.) the two that look most favourable to
his design are those in Gen. xxxi. 39. and 2 Kings vii. 9.
With respect to the former, where Jacob says, that which
was torn of beasts, (n__nN »_JN,) I bare the loss of it. Dr.
T. is pleased to translate it, I was the sinner ; but properly
rendered, it is, I expiated it ; the verb in Pihel jroperly
signifying to expiate ; and the plain meaning is, I bore the
b/anwof it, and was obliged to pay for it, as being supposed
to be lost through my fault or neglect : which is a quite
different tiling from suffering without any supposition of
fault. And as to the latter place, where the lepers say,
this day is a day of good tidings, and we hold our peace :
if we tarry till morning some, mischief will befall us : in the
Hebrew it is (piy 1-K.O') iniquitylwillfindus, that is, some
punishment of our fault will come upon us. Elsewhere
such phrases are used, as your iniquity will find you out,
and the like. But certainly this is a different thing from
suffering without fault, or supposition of fault. And it
does not appear, that the verb in Hiphil, (JWW) render
ed to condemn, is ever put for condemn, in any other sense
than for sin, or guilt, or supposed guilt belonging to the
subject condemned. This word is used in the participle
of Hiphil,, to signify condemning, in Prov. xvii. 15. " He
that justifieth the wicked, and he that condemneth the just,
even both are an abomination to the Lord." This Dr. T.

' Page 30.

t Page 54, and elsewhere.

observes, as if it were to his purpose, when he is endea
vouring to show, that in this place (Rom. v.) the apostle
speaks of God himself as condemning the just, or perfectly
innocent, in a parallel signification of terms. Nor is any
instance produced, wherein the verb sin, which is used by
the apostle when he says, all have sinned, is any where used
in our author's sense, for being brought into a state of
suffering, and that not as a punishment for sin, or as any
thing arising from God's displeasure ; much less for be
ing the subject of what comes only as the fruit of divine
love, and as a benefit of the highest n ature.§ Nor can
any thing like this sense of the verb be found in the whole
Bible. 2. If there had been any thing like such an use of the
words sin and sinner, as our author supposes, in the Old
Testament, it is evident that such an use of them is quite
alien from the language of the New Testament. Where
can an instance be produced of any thing like it, in any
one place, besides what is pretended in this ? and par
ticularly in any of this apostle's writings ? We have
enough of his writings, by which to learn his way of speak
ing about sin, condemnation, punishment, death, and suffer
ing. He wrote much more of the New Testament than
any other person. He very often has occasion to speak
of condemnation : but where does he express it by such a
phrase as being made sinners ? Especially how far is he
elsewhere from using such a phrase, to signify being con
demned without guilt, or any imputation or supposition of
guilt 7 Vastly more still is it remote from his language,
so to use the verb sin, and to say, man sinneth, or has sin
ned, though hereby meaning nothing more nor less, than
that he, by a judicial act, is condemned, according to a dis
pensation of grace, to receive a great favour ! He abun
dantly uses the words sin and sinner ; his writings are full
of such terms ; but where else does he use them in such
a sense 7 He has much occasion in his epistles to speak
of death, temporal and eternal ; to speak of suffering of
all kinds, in this world, and the world to come : but
where does he call these things sin ? or denominate inno
cent men sinners, meaning, that they are brought into a
state of suffering ? If the apostle, because he was a Jew,
was so addicted to the Hebrew idiom, as thus in one para
graph to repeat this particular Hebraism, which, at most,
is comparatively rare even in the Old Testament ; is it
not strange, that never any thing like it should appear any
where else in his writings 7 and especially, that he should
never fall into such a way of speaking in his epistle to the
Hebrews, written to Jews only, who were most used to the
Hebrew idiom? And why does Christ never use such
language in any of his speeches, though he was born and
brought up among the Jews, and delivered almost all his
speeches to Jews only 7 And why do none of the other
New-Testament writers ever use it, who were all born and
educated Jews, (excepting perhaps Luke,) and some of
them wrote especially for the benefit of the Jews ?
It is worthy to be observed, what liberty is taken and
boldness is used with this apostle. Such words as
auapTo\o?, a/xaprayu), Kpi/ia, KaTaKpifim, dtnaioia, ditcaiuHTis, are
abundantly used by him elsewhere in this and other
epistles, when speaking, as here, of Christ's redemption
and atonement, the general sinfulness of mankind, the
condemnation of sinners, the justification by Christ,
death as the consequence of sin, and restoration to life by
Christ ; yet no where are any of these words used, but in
a sense very remote from what is supposed by Dr. T.
however, in this place, it seems, these terms must have a
distinguished singular sense annexed to them ! A net-
language must be coined for the apostle, to which he is
evidently quite unused, for the sake of evading this clear,
precise, and abundant testimony of his, to the doctrine of
original sin.
3. To put such a sense on the word sin, in this place,
is not only to make the apostle greatly disagree with him
self in the language he uses every where else, but also in
this very passage. He often here uses the word sin, and
other words plainly of the same import, such as transgres
sion, disobedience, offence. Nothing can be more evident,
than that these are used as several names of the same

I Page 34.

§ Page 27. S.

206

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. IV.

thine ; for they are used interchangeably, and put one for
another. And these words are used no less than seventeen
times in this one paragraph. Perhaps we shall find no
place in the whole Bible, in which the word sin, and other
words plainly synonymous, are used so often in so little
compass : arid in all these instances, in the proper sense,
as signifying moral evil, and even so understood by Dr.
T. himself, (as appears by his own exposition,) but only
in these two places, (ver. 12, 19.) where, in the midst of
all, to evade a clear evidence of the doctrine of original
sin, another meaning must be found out, and it must be
supposed that the apostle uses the word in a sense entirely
different, signifying something that neither implies nor sup
poses any moral evil at all in the subject.
Here it is very remarkable, how the gentleman who so
greatly insisted upon it, that the word death must needs
be understood in the same sense throughout this para
graph ; yea, that it is evidently, clearly, and infallibly so,
inasmuch as the apostle is still discoursing on the same
subject ; yet can, without the least difficulty, suppose the
word sin, to be used so differently in the very same
passage, wherein the apostle is discoursing on the same
thing. Let us take that one instance in ver. 12. " Where
fore as by one man sin entered into the world, and death
by sin,, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have
sinned." Here, by sin, implied in the word sinned, in the
end of the sentence, our author understands something
perfectly and altogether diverse from what is meant by the
word sin, twice in the former part of the very same sen
tence, of which this latter part is the explication. And a
sense entirely different from the use of the word twice in
the next sentence, wherein the apostle is still most plainly
discoursing on the same subject, as is not denied. And so
our author himself understands ver. 14. Afterwards (ver.
19.) the apostle uses the word sinners, which our author
supposes to be in a somewhat different sense still. So that
here is the utmost violence of the kind that can be con
ceived of, to make out a scheme against the plainest
evidence, in changing the meaning of a word backward
and forward in one paragraph, all about one thing, and in
different parts of the same sentence, occurring in quick
repetitions, with a variety of other synonymous words to
fix its signification. To which we may add, the con
tinued use of the word in all the preceding and subse
quent parts of this epistle ; in none of which places is it
Eretended, but that the word is used in the proper sense,
y our author in his paraphrase and notes on the whole
epistle.* But indeed we need go no further than ver. 12. What
the apostle means by sin, in the latter part of the verse,
is evident, by comparing it with the former part; the
last clause being exegetical of the first. "Wherefore,
as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by
sin ; and so death passed upon all men, for that (or unto
which) all have sinned." Here sin and death are so spoken
of in the former and in the latter part that the same things
are clearly meant by the terms in both parts. Besides, to
interpret sinning, here, by falling under the suffering of
death, is yet the more violent and unreasonable, because
the apostle in this very place once and again distinguishes
between sin and death ; plainly speaking of one as the
effect, and the other the cause. So in the 21st verse,
" that as sin hath reigned unto death ;" and in the 12th
verse, " sin entered into the world, and death by sin." And
this plain distinction holds through all the discourse, as
between death and the offence, ver. 15. and ver. 17. and
between the offence and' condemnation, ver. 18.
4. Though we should omit the consideration of the
manner in which the apostle uses the words, sin, sinned,
&c. in other places, and in other parts of this discourse,
yet Dr. T.'s interpretation of them would be very absurd.
The case stands thus : according to his exposition, we
* Agreeably to his manner, our author, in explaining the 7th chap, of
Romans, understands the pronoun I, or me, used by the apostle in that one
continued discourse, in no less than six different senses. He takes it in the
1st ver. to signify the apostle Paul himself. In the 8, 9, 10, and 1 1th verses,
for the people of the Jews, through all ages, both before and after Moses,
especially the carnal ungodly part of them. In the 13th ver. for an object
ing Jew, entering into a dialogue with the apostle. In the 15, 16, 17, 20,

are said to have sinned by an active verb, as though we
had actively sinned ; yet this is not spoken truly and pro
perly, but it is put figuratively for our becoming sinners
passively, our being made or constituted sinners. Yet
again, not that we do truly become sinners passively, or are
really made sinners, by any thing that God does ; this also
is only a figurative or tropical representation ; and the
meaning is only, we are condemned, and treated as if we
were sinners. Not indeed that we are properly condemned,
for God never truly condemns the innocent ; but this also
is only a figurative representation of the thing. It is but
as it were condemning ; because it is appointing to death,
a terrible evil, as if it were a punishment. But then, in
reality, here is no appointment to a terrible evil, or any
evil at all ; but truly to a benefit, a great benefit ; and so
in representing death as a punishment, another figure is
used, and an exceeding bold one; for, as we are ap
pointed to it, it is so far from being an evil or punishment,
that it is really a favour, and that of the highest nature,
appointed by mere grace and love, though it seems to be
a calamity. Thus we have tropes and figures multiplied, one upon
another ; and all in that one word, sinned ; according to
the manner, as it is supposed, in which the apostle uses
it. We have a figurative representation , not of a reality,
but of a figurative representation. Neither is this a repre
sentation of a reality, but of another thing that still is but
a figurative representation of something else : yea, even
this something else is still but a figure, and one that is very
harsh and far-fetched. So that here we have a figure to
represent a figure, even a figure of a figure, representing
some very remote figure, which most obscurely represents
the thing intended ; if the most terrible evil can indeed be
said at all to represent the contrary good of the highest kind.
And now, what cannot be made of any place of Scripture,
in such a way as this 7 And is there any hope of ever
deciding any controversy by the Scripture, in the way of
using such a licence in order to force it to a compliance
with our own schemes 7 If the apostle indeed uses lan
guage after so strange a manner in this place, it is perhaps
such an instance, as not only there is not the like in all the
Bible besides, but perhaps in no writing whatsoever. And
this, not in any parabolical, visionary, or prophetic de
scription, in which difficult and obscure representations
are wont to be made ; nor in a dramatic or poetical repre
sentation, in which a great licence is often taken, and bold
figures are commonly to be expected. But it is in a
familiar letter, wherein the apostle is delivering gospel-in
struction, as a minister of the New Testament: and
wherein, as he professes, he delivers divine truth with
out the vail of ancient figures and similitudes, and uses
great plainness of speech. And in a discourse that is
wholly didactic, narrative, and argumentative ; evidently
setting himself to explain the doctrine he is upon, in the
reason and nature of it, with a great variety of expressions,
turning it as it were on every side, to make his meaning
plain, and to fix in his readers the exact notion of what he
intends. Dr. T. himself observes,f " This apostle takes
great care to guard and explain every part of his subject :
and I may venture to say, he has left no part of it unex
plained or unguarded. Never was an author more exact
and cautious in this than he. Sometimes he writes notes
on a sentence liable to exception, and wanting explana
tion." Now I think, this care and exactness of the apostle
no where appears more than in the place we are upon.
Nay, I scarcely know another instance equal to this, of the
apostle's care to be well understood, by being very par
ticular, explicit, and precise, setting the matter forth in
every light, going over and over again with his doctrine,
clearly to exhibit, and fully to settle and determine the
thing at which he aims.

and latter part of the 25th ver. it is understood in two different senses, for
two I's in the same person ; one, a man's reason ; and the other, his passions
and carnal appetites. And in the 7th and former part ofthe last verse, for
us Christians in general ; or, for all that enjoy the word of God, the law and
the gospel : and these different senses, the most of them strangely inter
mixed and interchanged backwards and forwards,
t Pref. to Paraph, on Rom. p. 146. 48.

Sect. II.

THE TRUE SCOPE OF ROM. V. 12. &c.

207

SECT. II.
Some observations on the connexions, scope, and sense of
this remarkable paragraph, Rom. v. 12, 4_. With some
reflections on the evidence which we here have of the
doctrine of original sin.
The connexion of this remarkable paragraph with the
foregoing discourse in this epistle, is not obscure and dif
ficult, nor to be sought for at a distance. It may be
plainly seen, only by a general glance on what goes before,
from the beginning of the epistle : and indeed what is said
immediately before in the same chapter, leads directly to
it. The apostle in the preceding part of this epistle had
largely treated of the sinfulness and misery of all mankind,
Jews as well as Gentiles. He had particularly spoken of
the depravity and ruin of mankind in their natural state, in
the foregoing part of this chapter ; representing them as
being sinners, ungodly, enemies, exposed to divine wrath,
and without strength. This naturally leads him to observe,
how this so great and deplorable an event came to pass ;
lum this universal sin and ruin came into the world. And
with regard to the Jews in particular, though they might
allow the doctrine of original sin in profession, they were
strongly prejudiced against what was implied in it, or evi
dently followed from it, with regard to themselves. In this
respect they were prejudiced against the doctrine of uni
versal sinfulness, and exposedness to wrath by nature, look
ing on themselves as by nature holy, and favourites of
God, because they were the children of Abraham ; and
with them the apostle had laboured most in the foregoing
part of the epistle, to convince them of their being by nature
as sinful, and as much the children of wrath, as the Gen
tiles: it was therefore exceeding proper, and what the
apostle's design most naturally led him to, that they should
take off their eyes from their father Abraham, their father in
distinction from other nations, and direct them to their father
Adam, who was the common father of mankind, equally of
Jews and Gentiles. And when he had entered on this
doctrine of the derivation of sin and death, to all mankind
from Adam, no wonder if he thought it needful to be some
what particular in it, seeing he wrote to Jews and Gentiles;
the former of which had been brought up under the pre
judices of a proud opinion of themselves, as a holy people
by nature, and the latter had been educated in total igno
rance. Again, the apostle had, from the beginning of the epistle,
been endeavouring to evince the absolute dependence of all
mankind on the free grace of God for salvation, and the
greatness of this grace ; and particularly in the former part
of this chapter. The greatness of this grace he shows espe
cially by two things. (1.) The universal corruption and
misery of mankind ; as in all the foregoing chapters, and in
several preceding verses of this chapter, (ver. 6—10.) (2.)
the greatness ofthe benefits which believers receive, and
the greatness of the glory for which they hope. So
especially in ver. 1—5, and 11th of this chapter. And
here, ver. 12, to the end, he still pursues the same design
of magnifying the grace of God, in the favour, life, and hap
piness which believers in Christ receive ; speaking here of
the grace of God, the gift by grace, the abounding of grace,
and the reign of grace. ' And he still sets forth the freedom
and riches of grace by the same two arguments, viz. The
universal sinfulness and ruin of mankind, all having sinned,
all being naturally exposed to death, judgment, and con
demnation ; and the exceeding greatness of the benefit re
ceived, being far greater than the misery which comes by
the first Adam, and abounding beyond it. And it is by no
means consistent with the apostle s scope, to suppose, that
the benefit which we have by Christ, as the antitype of
Adam, here mainly insisted on, is without any grace at all,
being only a restoration to life of such as never deserved
death. Another thing observable in the apostle's grand scope
from the beginning of the epistle, is, that he endeavours to
show the greatness and absoluteness of dependence on the
redemption and righteousness of Christ, for justification
and life, that he might magnify and exalt the Redeemer ; in
* Here are worthy to be observed the things which Dr. T. himself says to

which design his whole heart was swallowed up, and may
be looked upon as the main design of the whole epistle.
And this is what he had been upon in the preceding part
of this chapter, inferring it from the same argument, even
the utter sinfulness and ruin of all men. And he is evi
dently still on the same thing from the 12th verse to the
end ; speaking ofthe same justification and righteousness,
which he had dwelt on before, and not another totally
diverse. No wonder, when the apostle is treating so fully
and largely of our restoration, righteousness, and life by
Christ, that he is led by it to consider our fall, sin, death,
and ruin by Adam ; and to observe wherein these two op
posite heads of mankind agree, and wherein they differ, in
the manner of conveyance of opposite influences and com
munications from each.
Thus, if the place be understood, as it used to be under
stood by orthodox divines, the whole stands in a natural,
easy, and clear connexion with the preceding part of the
chapter, and all the former part of the epistle ; and in a
plain agreement with the express design of all that the
apostle had been saying ; and also in connexion with the
words last before spoken, as introduced by the two imme
diately preceding verses, where he is speaking of our justi
fication, reconciliation, and salvation by Christ ; which
leads the apostle directly to observe, how, on the eontrary,
we have sin and death by Adam. Taking this discourse of
the apostle in its true and plain sense, there is no need of
great extent of learning, or depth of criticism, to find out
the connexion. But if it be understood in Dr. T.'s sense,
the plain scope and connexion are wholly lost, and there
was truly need of skill in criticism, and the art of discern
ing, beyond or at least different from that of former divines,
and a faculty of seeing what other men's sight could not
reach, in order to find out the connexion.
What has been already observed, may suffice to show
the apostle's general scope in this place. But yet there
seem to be some other things to which he alludes in several
expressions. As particularly the Jews had a very super
stitious and extravagant notion of their law, delivered by
Moses ; as if it were the prime, grand, and indeed only rule
of God's proceeding with mankind as their judge, both in
their justification and condemnation, or from whence all,
both sin and righteousness, was imputed ; and had no con
sideration of the law of nature, written in the hearts of the
Gentiles, and of all mankind. Herein they ascribed in
finitely too much to their particular law, beyond the true
design of it. They made their boast ofthe law ; as if their
being distinguished from all other nations by that great
privilege, tlie giving of the law, sufficiently made them a
holy people, and God's children. This notion of theirs the
apostle evidently refers to, chap. ii. 13, 17- — 1 9. and indeed
through that whole chapter. They looked on the law of
Moses as intended to be the only rule and means of justi
fication; and as such, trusted in the works of the law,
especially circumcision ; which appears by the third chap
ter. But as for the Gentiles, they looked on them as by
nature sinners, and children of wrath ; because born of un-
circumcised parents, and aliens from their law, and who
themselves did not know, profess, and submit to the law of
Moses, become proselytes, and receive circumcision. What
they esteemed the sum of their wickedness, and condem
nation, was, that they did not turn Jews, and act as Jews.*
To this notion the apostle has a plain respect, and endea
vours to convince them of its falseness, in chap. ii. 12 — 46.
And he has a manifest regard again to the same thing here.
(Chap. v. 12 — 14.) Which may lead us the more clearly to
see the true sense of those verses ; about the sense of which
is the main controversy, and the meaning of which being
determined, it will settle the meaning of every other con
troverted expression through the whole discourse.
Dr. T. misrepresents the apostle's argument in these
verses ; which, as has been demonstrated, is in his sense
altogether vain and impertinent. He supposes, the thing
which the apostle mainly intends to prove, is, that death
or mortality does not come on mankind by personal sin ;
and that he would prove it by this medium, that death
reigned when there was no law in being which threatened
personal sin with death. It is acknowledged, that this is
the same purpose. Key, §302, 303. and Pref. to Par. on Ep. to Rom. p. 144.43.

203

ON ORIGINAL SIN,

P. II. Ch. IV.

implied, even that death came into the world by Adam's
sin : yet this is not the main thing the apostle designs to
prove. But his main point evidently is, that sin and guilt,
and just exposedness to death and ruin, came into the world
by Adam's sin ; as righteousness, justification, and a title
to eternal life come by Christ. Which point he confirms
by this consideration, that from the very time when Adam
sinned, sin, guilt, and desert of ruin, became universal in
the world, iong before the law given by Moses to the Jew
ish nation had any being.
The apostle's remark, that sin entered into the world by
one man, who was the father of the whole human race, was
an observation which afforded proper instruction for the
Jews, who looked on themselves as an holy people, be
cause they had the law of Afoses, and were the children of
Abraham, an holy father ; while they looked on other na
tions as by nature unholy and sinners, because they were
not Abraham's children. He leads them up to a higher
ancestor than this patriarch, even to Adam, who being
equally the father of Jews and Gentiles, both alike come
from a sinful father ; from whom guilt and pollution were
derived alike to all mankind. And this the apostle proves
by an argument, which of all that could possibly be in
vented, tended the most briefly and directly to convince
the Jews; even by this reflection, that death had come
equally on all mankind from Adam's time, and that the
posterity of Abraham were equally subject to it with the
rest of the world. This was apparent in fact, a thing they
all knew. And the Jews had always been taught, that
death (which began in the destruction of the body, and of
this present life) was the proper punishment of sin. This
they were taught in Moses's history of Adam, and God's
first threatening of punishment for sin, and by the constant
doctrine of the law and the prophets ; as already observed.
And the apostle's observation — that sin was in the
world long before the law was given, and was as universal
in the world from the times of Adam, as it had been among
the heathen since the law of Moses — showed plainly, that
the Jews were quite mistaken in their notion of their par
ticular law ; and that the law which is the original and
universal rule of righteousness and judgment for all man
kind, was another law, of far more ancient date, even the
law of nature. This began as early as the human nature
began, and was established with the first father of man
kind, and in him with the whole race. The positive pre
cept of abstaining from the forbidden fruit, was given for
the trial of his compliance with this law of nature ; of
which the main rule is supreme regard to God and his
will. And the apostle proves that it must be thus, because
if the law of Moses had been the highest rule of judgment,
and if there had not been a superior, prior, divine rule
established, mankind in general would not have been
judged and condemned as sinners, before that was given,
(for " sin is not imputed, when there' is no law,") as it is
apparent in fact they were, because death reigned before
that time, even from the time of Adam.
It may be observed, that the apostle, both in this epistle,
and in that to the Galatians, endeavours to convince the
Jews of these two things, in opposition to the notions and
prejudices they had entertained concerning their law. (1.)
That it never was intended to be the covenant, or method
by which they should actually be justified. (2.) That it
was not the highest and universal rule or law, by which
mankind in general, and particularly the heathen world,
were condemned. And he proves both by similar argu
ments. — He proves, that the law of Moses was not the
covenant, by which any of mankind were to obtain justi
fication, because that covenant was of older date, being ex
pressly established in the time of Abraham, and Abraham
himself was justified by it. This argument the apostle par
ticularly handles' in the third chapter of Galatians, particu
larly in ver. 17 — 19. and especially in Rom. iv. 13 — 15.
He proves also, that the law of Moses was not the prime
rule of judgment, by which mankind in general, and par
ticularly the heathen world, were condemned. And this he
proves also the same way, viz. by showing this to be of
older date than that law, and that it was established with
Adam. Now, these things tended to lead the Jews to right
notions of their law, not as the intended method of justi-
Jication, nor as the original and universal rule of condemna

tion, but something superadded to both ; superadded to the
latter, to illustrate and confirm it, that the offence might
abound; and superadded to the former, to be as a school
master, to prepare men for its benefits, and to magnify
divine grace in it, that this might much more abound.
The chief occasion of obscurity and difficulty, attending
the scope and connexion of the various clauses of this dis
course, particularly in the 13th and 14th verses, is that
there are two things (although closely connected) which
the apostle has in view at once. He would illustrate the
grand point he had been upon from the beginning, even
justification through Christ's righteousness alone, by show
ing how we are originally in a sinful miserable state, how
we derive this sin and misery from Adam, and how we are
delivered and justified by Christ as a second Adam. At
the same time he would confute those foolish and corrupt
notions ofthe Jews, about their nation, and their law, which
were very inconsistent with these doctrines. And he here
endeavours to establish, at once, these two things in oppo
sition to those Jewish notions.
(1.) That it is our natural relation to Adam, and not to
Abraham, which determines our native moral state ; and
that, therefore, being natural children of Abraham, will not
make us by nature holy in the sight of God, since we are
the natural seed of sinful Adam. Nor does the Gentiles
being not descended from Abraham, denominate them
sinners, any more than the Jews, seeing both alike are de
scended from Adam.
(2.) That the law of Moses is not the prime and general
law and rule of judgment for mankind, to condemn them,
and denominate them sinners ; but that the state they are
in with regard to a higher, more ancient, and universal law,
determines them in general to be sinners in the sight of
God, and liable to be condemned as such. Which obser
vation is, in many respects, to the apostle's purpose ; par
ticularly in this respect, that if the Jews were convinced,
that the law, which was the prime rule of condemnation, was
given to all, was common to all mankind, and that all fell
under condemnation through the violation of that law by
the common father Of all, both Jews and Gentiles, then
they would be led more easily and naturally to believe,
that the method of justification, which God had establish
ed, also extended equally to all mankind : and that the
Messiah, by whom we have this justification, is appointed,
as Adam was, for a common head to all, both Jeics and
Gentiles. — The apostle aiming to confute the Jewish no
tion, is the principal occasion of those words in the 13th
verse, " for until the law, sin was in the world ; but sin is
not imputed, when there is no law."
As to the import of that expression, " even over them
that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's trans
gression," not only is the thing signified, in Dr. T.'s sense
of it, not true ; or if it had been true, would have been im
pertinent, as has been shown : but his interpretation is,
otherwise, very much strained and unnatural. According
to him, " by sinning after the similitude of Adam's trans
gression," is not meant any similitude of the act of sinning,
nor of the command sinned against, nor properly anv cir
cumstance ofthe sin; but only the similitude of a circum
stance of the command, viz. the threatening with which it
is attended. A far-fetched thing, truly, to be called a
similitude of sinning ! Besides, this expression in such a
meaning, is only a needless, impertinent, and awkward
repetition of the same thing, which it is supposed the
apostle had observed in the foregoing verse, even after he
had proceeded another step in the series of his discourse.
As thus, in the foregoing verse the apostle had plainly laid
down his argument, (as our author understands it,) by
which he would prove, that death did not come by personal
sin, viz. because death reigned before any law, threatening
death for personal sin, was in being : so that the sin then
committed was against no law, threatening death for per
sonal sin. Having laid this down, the apostle leaves this
part of his argument, and proceeds another step, neverthe
less death reigned from Adam to Moses : and then returns,
in a strange unnatural manner, and repeats that argument
or assertion again, but only more obscurely than before,
in these words, even over them that had not sinned after
the similitude of Adam's transgression ; i. e. over them that
had not sinned against a law threatening death for personal

Sect. II.

THE TRUE SCOPE OF ROM. V. 12, &c.

209

sin. Which is just the same thing as if the apostle had
said, " they that sinned before the law, did not sin against
a law threatening death for personal sin ; for there was no
such law for any to sin against at that time : nevertheless
death reigned at that time, even over such as did not sin
against a law threatening death for personal sin." Which
latter clause adds nothing to the premises, and tends no
thing to illustrate what was said before, but rather to ob
scure and darken it. The particle (mi) even, when prefixed
in this manner, is used to signify something additional,
some advance in the sense or argument ; implying, that
the words following express something more, or express the
same thing more fully, plainly, or forcibly. But to unite
two clauses by such a particle, in such a manner, when
there is nothing besides a flat repetition, with no su per-
added sense or force, but rather a greater uncertainty and
obscurity, would be very unusual, and indeed very absurd.
I can see no reason why we should be dissatisfied with
that explanation of this clause, which has more commonly
been given, viz. That by them who have not sinned after
the similitude of Adam's transgression, are meant infants;
who, though they have indeed sinned in Adam, yet never
sinned as Adam did, by actually transgressing in their own
persons ; unless it be, that this interpretation is too old,
and too common. It was well understood by those to
whom the apostle wrote, that vast numbers had died in
infancy, within that period of which he speaks, particularly
in the time of the deluge. And it would be strange, that
the apostle should not have the case of such infants in his
mind; even supposing his scope were what our author
supposes, and he had only intended to prove that death
did not come on mankind for their personal sin. How
directly would it have served the purpose of proving this,
to have mentioned so great a part of mankind who are sub
ject to death, and who, all know, never committed any sin
in their own persons ! How much more plain and easy the
proof of the point by that, than to go round about, as Dr.
I", supposes, and bring in a thing so dark and uncertain as
this, that God never would bring death on all mankind
for personal sin (though they had personal sin) without an
express revealed constitution; and then to observe, that
there was no revealed constitution of this nature from
Adam to Moses — which also seems to be an assertion
without any plain evidence — and then to infer, that it
must needs be so, that it could come only on occasion of
Adam's sin, though not for his sin, or as any punishment
of it ; which inference also is very dark and unintelligible.
If the apostle in this place meant those who never sinned
by their personal act, it is not strange that he should ex
press this by their not sinning after the similitude of
Adam's transgression. We read of two ways of men being
like Adam, or in which a similitude to him is ascribed to
men : one is, being begotten or born in his image or like
ness, Gen. v. 3. Another is, transgressing God's covenant
or law, like him, Hos. vi. 7. They, like Adam., (so, in the
Heb . and Vulg. Lat.) have transgressed the covenant. In
fants have the former similitude, but not the latter. And
it was very natural, when the apostle would infer that in
fants become sinners by that one act and offence of Adam,
to observe, that they had not renewed the act of sin them
selves, by any second instance of a like sort. And such
might be the state of language among Jews and Christians
at that day, that the apostle might have no phrase more
aptly to express this meaning. The manner in which the
epithets, personal and actual, are used and applied now in
this case, is probably of later date, and more modern use.
And the apostle having the case of infants in view, in
this expression, makes it more to his purpose to mention
death reigning before the law of Moses was given. For
the Jews looked on all nations besides themselves, as sin
ners, by virtue of their law ; being made so especially by
the law of circumcision, given first to Abraham, and com
pleted by Moses, making the want of circumcision a legal
pollution, utterly disqualifying for the privileges of the
sanctuary. This law, the Jews supposed, made the very
infants of the Gentiles to be sinners, polluted and hateful
to God ; they being uncircumcised, and born of uncircum-
cised parents. But the apostle proves, against these notions
of the Jews, that the nations of the world do not become
sinners by nature, and sinners from infancy, by virtue of
VOL. i. p

their law, in this manner, but by Adam's sin : inasmuch
as infants were treated as sinners long before the law of
circumcision was given, as well as before they had com
mitted actual sin.
What has been said, may, as I humbly conceive, lead
us to that which is the true scope and sense of the apostle
in these three verses ; which I will endeavour more briefly
to represent in the following paraphrase.
" The things which I have largely 12. Wherefore,
insisted on, viz. the evil that is in the as by one man sin
world, the general wickedness, guilt, entered into the
and ruin of mankind, and the opposite world., and death
good, even justification and life, as by sin; and so
only by Christ, lead me to observe the death passed upon
likeness of the manner in which they alt men, for that
are each of them introduced. For it alt have sinned.
was by one man that the general cor
ruption and guilt which I have spoken
of, came into the world, and condem
nation and death by sin : and this
dreadful punishment and ruin came
on all mankind by the great law of
works, originallv established with man
kind in their first father, and by his
one offence, or breach of that law ; all
thereby becomingsmners in God's sight,
and exposed to final destruction.
" It is manifest that it was in this 13. For until
way the world became sinful and the law sin was in
guilty ; and not in that way which the the world : Iml sin
Jews suppose, viz. That their law, given is not imputed,
by Moses, is the grand universal rule when there is no
of righteousness and judgment for man- law.
kind, and that it is by being Gentiles,
uncircumcised, and aliens from that
law, that the nations of the world are
constituted sinners, and unclean . For
before the law of Moses was given,
mankind were all looked upon by the
great Judge as sinners, by corruption
and guilt derived from Adam's viola
tion of the original law of works ;
which shows, that the original univer
sal rule of righteousness is not the law
of Moses ; for if so, there would have
been no sin imputed before that was
given; because sin is not imputed,
when there is no law.
" But that at that time sin was im- 14. Nevertheless,
puted, and men were by their judge death reigned from
reckoned as sinners, through guilt and Adam to Moses,
corruption derived from Adam, and even over them that
condemned for sin to death, the proper had not sinnedafter
punishment of sin, we have a plain the similitude of
proof; in that it appears in fact, all Adam's transgres-
mankind, during that whole time which* sion.
preceded the law of Moses, were sub
jected to that temporal death, which
is the visible introduction and image
of that utter destruction which sin
deserves, not excepting even infants,
who could be sinners no other way
than by virtue of Adam's transgres
sion, having never in their own per
sons actually sinned as Adam did ; nor
could at that time be made polluted
by the law of Moses, as being uncir
cumcised, or born of uncircumcised
parents." Now, by way of reflection on the whole, I would ob
serve, that though there are two or three expressions in this
paragraph, Rom. v. 12, &c. the design of which is attended
with some difficulty and obscurity, as particularly in the
13th and 14th verses, yet the scope and sense of the dis
course in general is not obscure, but on the contrary very
clear and manifest; and so is the particular doctrine
mainly taught in it. The apostle sets himself with great
care to make it plain, and precisely to fix and settle the
point he is upon. And the discourse is so framed, that
one part of it greatly clears and fixes the meaning of other

210

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

P. II. Ch. IV.

parts ; and the whole is determined by the clear connexion
it stands in with other parts of the epistle, and by the ma
nifest drift of all the preceding part of it.
The doctrine of original sin is not only here taught, but
most plainly, explicitly, and abundantly taught. This
doctrine is asserted, expressly or implicitly, in almost
every verse, and in some of the verses several times. It
is fully implied in that first expression in the 12th ver.
" By one man sin entered into the world." The passage
implies, that sin became universal in the world ; as the
apostle had before largely shown it was ; and not merely
(which would be a trifling observation) that one man, who
was made first, sinned first, before other men sinned ; or,
that it did not so happen that many men began to sin just
together at the same moment. The latter part of the verse,
"and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for
that (or, if you will, unto which) all have sinned," shows,
that in the eye of the Judge of the world, in Adam's first
sin, all sinned ; not only in some sort, but all sinned so as
to be exposed to that death, and final destruction, which
is the proper wages of sin. The same doctrine is taught
again twice over in the 14th verse. It is there observed,
as a proof of this doctrine, that " death reigned over them
which had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's trans
gression," i. e. by their personal act ; and therefore could
be exposed to death, only by deriving guilt and pollution
from Adam, in consequence of his sin. And it is taught
again in those words, who is the figure of him that was to
come. The resemblance lies very much in this circum
stance, viz. our deriving sin, guilt, and punishment by
Adam's sin, as we do righteousness, justification, and the
reward of life, by Christ's obedience ; for so the apostle
explains himself. The same doctrine is expressly taught
again, ver. 15. " Through the offence of one, many be
dead." And again twice in the 16th verse, " it was by
one that sinned :" i. e. It was by Adam, that guilt and
punishment (before spoken of) came on mankind : and in
these words, "judgment was by one to condemnation."
It is again plainly and fully laid down in the 17th verse,
" By one man's offence, death reigned by one." So again
in the 18th verse, " By the offence of one, judgment came
upon all men to condemnation." Again very plainly in
the 19th verse, " By one man's disobedience, many were
made sinners."
Here is every thing to determine and fix the meaning
of all the important terms used ; as, the abundant use of
them in all parts of the New Testament; and especially
in this apostle's writings, which make up a very great part
of the New Testament ; and his repeated use of them in
this epistle in particular ; and in the former part of this
very chapter; and also the light that one sentence in this
paragraph casts on another, which fully settles their mean
ing: as, with respect to the words justification, righteous
ness, and condemnation ; and above all, in regard of the
word sin, which is the most important of all, with relation
to the doctrine and controversy we are upon. Besides the
constant use of this term every where else through the
New Testament, through the epistles of this apostle, this
epistle in particular, and even the former part of this chap
ter, it is often repeated in this very paragraph, and evi
dently used in the very sense that is denied to belong to it
in the end of ver. 12. and ver. 19. though owned every
where else : and its meaning is fully determined by the
apostle varying the term ; using together with it, to signify
the same thing, such a variety of other synonymous
words, such as offence, transgression, disobedience. And
further, to put the matter out of all controversy, it is par
ticularly, expressly, and repeatedly distinguished from
* The offence, according to Dr. T.'s explanation, does not abound by the
law at all really and truly, in any sense ; neither the sin, nor tbe punish
ment. For he says, " The meaning is not, that men should be made more
wicked ; but, that men should be liable to death for every transgression."
But after all, they are liable to no more deaths, nor to any worse deaths,

that which our opposers would explain it by, viz . condem
nation and death. And what is meant by sin entering in
to the world, in ver. 12. is determined by a like phrase of
sin being in the world, in the next verse. — And that by the
offence of one, so often spoken of here, as bringing death
and condemnation on all, the apostle means the sin of one,
derived in its guilt and pollution to mankind in general,
(over and above all that has been already observed,) is de
termined by those words in the conclusion of this dis
course, ver. 20. " Moreover, the law entered, that the of
fence might abound : but where sin abounded, grace did
much more abound." These words plainly show, that the
offence spoken of so often, the offence of one man, be
came the sin of all. For when he says, " The law entered,
that the offence might abound," his meaning cannot be,
that the offence of Adam, merely as his personally, should
abound; but, as it exists in its derived guilt, corrupt influ
ence, and evil fruits, in the sin of mankind in general, even
as a tree in its root and branches.*
What further confirms the certainty of the proof of ori
ginal sin, which this place affords, is this, that the utmost
art cannot pervert it to another sense. What a variety of
the most artful methods have been used by the enemies of
this doctrine, to wrest and darken this paragraph of Holy
Writ, which stands so much in their way, as it were to
force the Bible to speak a language agreeable to their
mind ! How have expressions been strained, words and
phrases racked ! What strange figures of speech have
been invented, and with violent hands thrust into the
apostle's mouth; and then with a bold countenance and
magisterial airs obtruded on the world, as from him ! — But
blessed be God, we have his words as he delivered them,
and the rest of the same epistle, and his other writings to
compare with them ; by which his meaning stands in too
strong and glaring a light to be hid by any of the artificial
mists which they labour to throw upon it.
It is really no less than abusing the Scripture and its
readers, to represent this paragraph as the most obscure of
all the places of Scripture, that speak of the consequences
of Adam's sin ; and to treat it as if there was need first to
consider other places as more plain. Whereas, it is most
manifestly a place in which these things are declared, the
most plainly, particularly, precisely, and of set purpose,
by that great apostle, who has most fully explained to us
those doctrines in general, which relate to the redemption
by Christ, and the sin and misery we are redeemed from.
And it must be now left to the reader's judgment, whether
the christian.church has not proceeded reasonably, in look
ing on this as a place of Scripture most clearly and fully
treating of these things, and in using its determinate sense
as a help to settle the meaning of many other passages of
Sacred Writ.
As this place in general is very full and plain, so the
doctrine of the corruptiui, of nature, as derived from Adam,
and also the imputation of his first sin, are both clearly
taught in it. The imputation of Adam's one transgression,
is indeed most directly and frequently asserted. We are
here assured, that by one man's sin, death passed on all; all
being adjudged to this punishment, as having sinned (so it
is implied) in that one man's sin. And it is repeated,
over and over, that all are condemned, many are dead, many
made sinners, &c. by one man's offence, by the disobedience
of one, and by one offence. And the doctrine of original
depravity is also here taught, when the apostle says, " By
one man sin entered into the world ;" having a plain re
spect (as hath been shown) to that universal corruption
and wickedness, as well as guilt, of which he had before
largely treated.
if they are not more sinful : for they were to have punishments according to
their desert, before. Such as died, and went into another world, before the
law of Moses was given, were punished according to their deserts ; and the
law, when it came, threatened no more.

Chap. I.

PROOF FROM REDEMPTION BY CHRIST.

211

PART III.
•THE EVIDENCE GIVEN US, RELATIVE TO THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN, IN WHAT THE SCRIPTURES REVEAL CON
CERNING THE REDEMPTION BY CHRIST.

CHAP. I.
THE EVIDENCE OF ORIGINAL SIN, PROM THE NATURE OP
REDEMPTION, IN THE PROCUREMENT OP IT.
According to Dr. T.'s scheme, a very great part of
mankind are the subjects of Christ's redemption, who live
and die perfectly innocent, who never have had, and never
will have, any sin charged to their account, and never are
exposed to any punishment whatsoever, viz. all that die in
infancy. They are the subjects of Christ's redemption, as
he redeems them from death, or as they by his righteous
ness have justification, and by his obedience are made
righteous, in the resurrection of the body, in the sense of
Rom. v. 18, 19. And all mankind are thus the subjects
of Christ's redemption, while they are perfectly guiltless,
and exposed to no punishment, as by Christ they are en
titled to a resurrection. Though, with respect to such
persons as have sinned, he allows it is in some sort by
Christ and his death, that they are saved from sin, and the
punishment of it.
Now let us see whether such a scheme well consists
with the scripture-account of the redemption by Jesus
Christ. I. The representations of the redemption by Christ,
every where in Scripture, lead us to suppose, that all
whom he came to redeem are sinners ; that his salvation,
as to the term from which, (or the evil to be redeemed
from,) in all, is sin, and the deserved punishment of sin.
It is natural to suppose, that when he had his name Jesus,
or Saviour, given him by God's special and immediate ap
pointment, the salvation meant by that name should be his
salvation in general ; and not only a part of his salvation,
and with regard only to some of them whom he came to
save. But this name was given him to signify " his saving
his people from their sins," Matt. i. 21. And the great
doctrine of Christ's salvation is, that " he came into the
world to save sinners," 1 Tim. i. 15. And that " Christ
hath once suffered, the just for the unjust," 1 Pet. iii. 18.
" In this was manifested the love of God towards us, (to
wards such in general as have the benefit of God's love in
giving Christ,) that God sent his only-begotten Son into
the world, that we might live through him. Herein is love,
that he sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins,"
1 John iv. 9, 10. Many other texts might be mentioned,
which seem evidently to suppose, that all who are redeem
ed by Christ are saved from sin. We are led by what
Christ himself said, to suppose, that if any are not sinners,
they have no need of him as a Redeemer, any more than a
man in health of a physician, Mark ii. 17. And that, in
order to our being the proper subjects of the mercy of God
through Christ, we must first be in a stale of sin, is im
plied in Gal. iii. 22. " But the Scripture hath concluded
all under sin, that the promise by faith of Jesus Christ
might be given to them that believe." To the same effect
is Rom. xi. 32.
These things are greatly confirmed by the scripture doc
trine of sacrifices. It is abundantly plain, both from the
Old and New Testament, that these were types of Christ's
death, and were for sin, and supposed sin in those for whom
they were offered. The apostie supposes, that in order to
any having the benefit of the eternal inheritance by Christ,
there must of necessity be the death of the testator ; and
gjves that reason for it, " That without shedding of blood
there is no remission," Heb. ix. 15, &c. And Christ him
self, in representing the benefit of his blood, in the institu
tion of the Lord's supper, under the notion of the blood of
a testament, calls it, " The blood of the New Testament
shed for the remission of sins," Matt. xxvi. 28. s But ac
cording to the scheme of our author, many have the eternal
p2

inheritance by the death of the testator, who never had any
need of remission.
II. The Scripture represents the redemption by Christ,
as a redemption from deserved destruction ; and that, not
merely as it respects some particulars, but as the fruit of
God's love to mankind. John iii. 16. " God so loved the
world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting
life ;" implying, that otherwise they must perish, or be de
stroyed. But what necessity of this, if they did not de
serve to be destroyed ? Now, that the destruction here
spoken of, is deserved destruction, is manifest, because it
is there compared to the perishing of such of the children
of Israel as died by the bite of the fiery serpents, which
God in his wrath, for their rebellion, sent amongst them.
And the same thing clearly appears by the last verse of the
same chapter, " He that believeth on the Son, hath ever
lasting life; and he that believeth not the Son, shall not
see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him," or, is left
remaining on him : implying, that all in general are found
under the wrath of God, and that they only of all man
kind who are interested in Christ, have this wrath removed,
and eternal life bestowed ; the rest are left with the wrath
of God still remaining on them. The same is clearly
illustrated and confirmed by John v. 24. " He that be
lieveth, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into con
demnation, but is passed from death to life." In being
passed from death to life is implied, that before, they were
all in a state of death ; and they are spoken of as being so
by a sentence of condemnation ; and if it be a just con
demnation, it is a deserved condemnation.
III. It will follow on Dr. T.'s scheme, that Christ's re
demption, with regard to a great part of them who are the
subjects of it, is not only a redemption from no sin, but
from no calamity, and so from no evil of any kind. For
as to death, which infants are redeemed from, they never
were subjected to it as a calamity, but purely as a benefit.
It came by no threatening or curse denounced upon or
through Adam ; the covenant with him being utterly
abolished, as to all its force and power on mankind, (accord
ing to our author,) before the sentence of mortality . There
fore trouble and death could be appointed to innocent
mankind no other way than on account of another cove
nant, the covenant of grace ; and in this channel thev come
only as favours,.not as evils. Therefore they could need
no remedy, for they had no disease. Even death itself,
which it is supposed Christ saves them from, is only a me
dicine ; and one ofthe greatest of benefits. It is ridiculous
to [talk of persons' needing a medicine, or a physician,
to save them from an excellent medicine ; or of a remedy
from a happy remedy ! If it be said, though death be a
benefit, yet it is so because Christ changes it, and turns it
into a benefit, by procuring a resurrection : I would ask,
what can be meant by turning or changing it into a benefit,
when it never was otherwise, nor could ever justly be other
wise ? Infants could not at all be brought under death as
a calamity; for they never deserved it. And it would be
only- an abuse (be it far from us, to ascribe such a thing to
God) in any being, to offer any poor sufferers a Redeemer
from a calamity which he had brought upon them, without
the least desert of it on their part.
But it is plain, that mortality was not at'first brought on
mankind as a blessing, by the covenant of grace through
Christ ; and that Christ and grace do not 6 ring mankind
under death, but find them under it. 2 Cor. v. 14. " We
thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead."
Luke xix. 10. " The Son of man is come to seek and save
that which was lost." The grace which appears in provid
ing a deliverer from any state, supposes the subject to be
in that state prior to 'his deliverance. In our author's
scheme, there never could be any sentence of death or con-

512

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part III.

demnation, that requires a Saviour from it ; because the
very sentence itself, according to the true meaning of it,
implies and makes sure all that good, which is requisite
to abolish and make void the seeming evil to the innocent
subject. So that the sentence itself is in effect the deliverer;
and there is no need of another to deliver from that sen
tence. Dr. T. insists upon it, that " nothing comes upon
us in consequence of Adam's sin, in any sense, kind, or
degree, inconsistent with the original blessing pronounced
on Adam at his creation ; and nothing but what is per
fectly consistent with God's blessing, love, and goodness,
declared to Adam as soon as he came out of his Maker's
hands."* If the case be so, it is certain there is no evil or
calamity at all for Christ to redeem us from ; unless things
agreeable to the divine goodness, love, and blessing, are things
from which we need redemption.f
IV. It will follow, on our author's principles, not only
with respect to infants, but even adult persons, that re
demption is needless, and Christ is dead in vain. Not only
is there no need of Christ's redemption in order to deliver
ance from any consequences of Adam's sin, but also in
order to perfect freedom from personal sin, and all its evil
consequences. For God has made other sufficient pro
vision for that, viz. a sufficient power and ability, in all
mankind, to do all their duty, and wholly to avoid sin. Yea,
he insists upon it, that " when men have not sufficient
power to do their duty, they have no duty to do. We may
safely and assuredly conclude, (says he,) that mankind in
all parts ofthe world have sufficient power to do the
duty which God requires of them ; and that he requires
of them no more than they have sufficient powers to
do."! And in another place,§ " God has given powers
equal to the duty which he expects." And he expresses
a great dislike at R. R.'s supposing, that our propensities
to evil, and temptations, are too strong to be effectually
and constantly resisted ; or that we are unavoidably
sinful in a degree; that our appetites and passions will
be breaking out, notwithstanding our everlasting watch-
fulness."|| These things fully imply, that men have in
their own natural ability sufficient means to avoid sin, and
to be perfectly free from it; and so, from all the bad
consequences of it. And if the means are sufficient, then
there is no need of more ; and therefore there is no need of
Christ dying, in order to it. What Dr. T. says, (p. 72. S.)
fully implies, that it would be unjust in God to give man
kind being in such circumstances, as that they would be
more likely to sin, so as to be exposed to final misery,
than otherwise. Hence then, without Christ and his re
demption, and without any grace at all, meke justice
makes sufficient provision for our being free from sin and
misery, by our own power.^I
If all mankind, in all parts of the world, have such suf
ficient power to do their whole duty, without being sinful
in any degree, then they have sufficient power to obtain
righteousness by the law: and then, according to the
apostle Paul, Christ is dead in vain. Gal. ii. 21. " If
righteousness come by law, Christ is dead in vain ;"— iia «)^_,
without the article, by law, or the rule of right action, as
our author explains the phrase.** And according to the
sense in which he explains this very place, " it would have
frustrated, or rendered useless, the grace of God, if Christ
died to accomplish what was or might have been effected
by law itself, without his death."ff So that it most clearly
follows from his own doctrine, that Christ is dead in vain,
and the grace of God is useless. The same apostle says, if
there had been a law which could have given life, verily
righteousness should have been by the law, Gal. iii. 21. i. e.
(still according to Dr. T.'s own sense,) if there was a law,
that man, in his present state, had sufficient power per
fectly to fulfil. For Dr. T. supposes the reason why the
law could not give life, to be " not because it was weak in
itself, but through the weakness of our flesh, and the in
firmity of the human nature in the present state." !! But
he says, "Weare under a mild dispensation of grace,
* Page 88, 89. S
t In this inferential short reply, our author is not quite so guarded as
usual. It seems applicable only to infants ,¦ since adults have actual or
personal sin and guilt from which to be redeemed. But what immediately
follows anticipates the objection. — W.
t Page 111. 68, 64. S. § Page 67. S. || Page 68. S.
^f Here, also, our author will be thought not quite accurate, in the infer
ence he draws against Dr. T. for the " sufficient power," for which Dr. T.

making allowance for our infirmities." §§ By our infirmi
ties, we may upon good grounds suppose he means that
infirmity of human nature, which he gives as the reason
why the law cannot give life. But what grace is there in
making that allowance for our infirmities, which justice it
self (according to his doctrine) most absolutely requires,
as he supposes divine justice exactly proportions our duty
to our ability 7
Again, if it be said, that although Christ's redemption
was not necessary to preserve men from beginning to sin,
and getting into a course of sin, because they have suffi
cient power in themselves to avoid it; yet it may be
necessary to deliver men, after they have by their own
folly brought themselves under the dominion of evil appe
tites and passions. |||| I answer, if it be so, that men need
deliverance from those habits and passions, which are be
come too strong for them, yet that deliverance, on our
author's principles, would be no salvation from sin. For
the exercise of passions which are too strong for us, and
which we cannot overcome, is necessary : and he strongly
urges, that a necessary evil can be no moral evil. It is
true, it is the effect of evil, as it is the effect of a bad prac
tice, while the man had power to have avoided it. But
then according to Dr. T. that evil cause alone is sin ; for
he says expressly, " The cause of every effect is alone
chargeable with the effect it produceth, or which proceeded-
from it."1["f" And as to that sin which was the cause, the
man needed no Saviour from that, having had sufficient
power in himself to have avoided it. So that it follows
by our author's scheme, that none of mankind, neither in
fants nor adult persons, neither the more nor less vicious,
neither Jews nor Gentiles, neither heathens nor Christians,
ever did or ever could stand in any need of a Saviour ; and
that, with respect to all, the truth is, Christ is dead in vain.
If any should say, although all mankind in all ages have
sufficient ability to do their whole duty, and so may by
their own power enjoy perfect freedom from sin, yet God
foresaw that they would sin, and that after they had sinned,
they would need Christ's death. I answer, it is plain, by
what the apostle says in those places which were just now
mentioned, (Gal. ii. 21. and iii. 21.) that God would have
esteemed it needless to give his Son to die for men, unless
there had been a prior impossibility of their having righte
ousness by any law ; and that, if there had been a law
which could have given life, this other way by the death
of Christ would not have been provided. And this ap-
Eears to be agreeable to our author's own sense of things,
y his words which have been cited, wherein he says, " It
would have frustrated or rendered useless the grace of
God, if Christ died to accomplish what was or might
have been effected by law itself, without his death."
V. It will follow on Dr. T.'s scheme, not only that
Christ's redemption is needless for saving from sin, or its
consequences, but also that it does no good that way, has
no tendency to any diminution of sin in the world. For
as to any infusion of virtue or holiness into the heart, by
divine power through Christ or his redemption, it is alto
gether inconsistent with this author's notions. With him,
inwrought virtue, if there were any such thing, would be
no virtue ; not being the effect of our own will, choice,
and design, but only of a sovereign act of God's power.***'
And therefore, all that Christ does to increase virtue, is
only increasing our talents, our light, advantages, means,
and motives ; as he often explains the matter.ttt But sin
is not at all diminished. lor he says, our duty must be
measured by our talents ; as, a child that has less talents,
has less duty ; and therefore must be no more exposed to
commit sin, than he that has greater talents ; because he
that has greater talents, has more duty required, in exact
proportion.!!! If so, he that has but one talent, has as
much advantage to perform that one degree of duty which
is required of him, as he that has five talents, to perform
his five degrees of duty, and is no more exposed to fail of
it. And that man's guilt, who sins against greater advan-
pleads, relates only to the prevention of sin, but not to its remission, or the
removal of its effects. But this also will be soon answered — W
f* Pref. to Par. on Rom. p. 143. 38. tt Note on Rom. v. 20. p. 297.
II Ibid. s§ Page 92. S.
Illl See p. 228. and also what he says of the helpless state of the heathen, in
paraph, and notes on Rom. vii. and beginning of chap, viii H% Patre 128
*« See p. 180 245 250. ttt Iu p. 44, 50.band innumerable other placea
ttt See page 234. 61, 64— 72. S. r

Chap. II.

PROOF FROM APPLICATION OF REDEMPTION.

213

tages, means, and motives, is greater in proportion 'o his
talents.* And therefore it will follow, on Dr. T.'s prin
ciples, that men stand no better chance, have no more
eligible or valuable probability of freedom from sin and
punishment, or of contracting but little guilt, or of per
forming required duty, with the great advantages and
talents implied in Christ's redemption, than without them ;
when all things are computed, and put into the balances
together, the numbers, degrees, and aggravations of sin
exposed to, degrees of duty required, &c. So that men
have no redemption from sin, and no new means of per
forming duty, that are valuable or worth any thing at all.
And thus the great redemption by Christ in every respect
comes to nothing, with regard both to infants and adult
persons.

CHAP. II.
THE EVIDENCE OF THE DOCTRINE OF ORIGINAL SIN FROM
WHAT THE SCRIPTURE TEACHES OF THE APPLICATION OF
REDEMPTION. The truth of the doctrine of original sin is very clearly
manifest from what the Scripture says of that change of
state, which it represents as necessary to an actual interest
in the spiritual and eternal blessings of the Redeemer's
kingdom. In order to this, it speaks of it as absolutely necessary
for every one, that he be regenerated, or born again. John
iii. 3. " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man
(lewnan ov_»ev) be begotten again, or born again, he cannot
see the kingdom of God." Dr. T. though he will not
allow that this signifies any change from a state of natural
propensity to sin, yet supposes that the new birth here
spoken of, means a man s being brought to a divine life,
in a right use and application of the natural powers, in a
life of true holiness : f and that it is the attainment of
those habits of virtue and religion, which gives us the real
character of true Christians, and the children of God ; J
and that it is putting on the new nature of right action. §
But in order to proceed in the most sure and safe man
ner, in understanding what is meant in Scripture by being
born again, and so in the inferences we draw from what
is said of the necessity of it, let us compare scripture
with scripture, and consider what other terms or phrases
are used!, where respect is evidently had to the same
change. And here I would observe the following things.
I. If we compare one scripture with another, it will be
sufficiently manifest, that by regeneration, or being begotten,
or born again, the same change in the state of the mind is
signified with that which the scripture speaks of as affected
in true repentance and conversion. I put repentance
and conversion together, because the scripture puts them
together, Acts iii- 19. and because they plainly signify
much the same tiling. The word < iit™.™) repentance,
signifies a change of the mind ; as the word conversion,
means a change or turning from sin to God. And that
this is the same change with that which is called regene
ration (excepting that this latter term especially signifies
the change, as the mind is passive in it) the following
things may show.
In the change which the mind undergoes in repentance
and conversion, is attained that character of true Christians
which is necessary to the eternal privileges of such. Acts
iii. 19. " Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your
sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing
shall come from the presence of the Lord." And thus it
is in regeneration ; as is evident from what Christ says to
Nicodemus, and as is allowed by Dr. T.
The clumge of the mind in repentance is that in which
saving faith is attained. Mark i. 15. "The kingdom of
God is at hand, repent ye, and believe the gospel." And
so it is in being born again, or born of God ; as appears
by John i. 12, 13. "But as many as received him, to
them he gave power to become the sons of God, even to
them that believe on his name, which were born not of
blood, &c. but of God." Just as Christ says concerning
f See Paraph, on Rom. ii, 9. also on ver. 12. t Page 144.

conversion, Matt, xviii. 3. "Verily, verily, I say unto you,
except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye
shall not enter the kingdom of heaven :" so does he say
concerning being born again,'\n what he spake to Nicodemus.
By the change men undergo in conversion, they become
as little children ; which appears in the place last cited :
and so they do by regeneration. (1 Pet. 1. 23. and ii. 2.)
" Being born again.— Wherefore as new-born babes, desire,
&c. It is no objection, that the disciples, to whom Christ
spake in Matt, xviii. 3. were converted already : this
makes it not less proper for Christ to declare the necessity
of conversion to them, leaving it with them to try them
selves, and to make sure their conversion : in like manner
as he declared to them the necessity of repentance, in Luke
xiii. 3, 5. "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."
The change effected by repentance, is expressed and ex
hibited by baptism. Hence it is called the baptism of re
pentance. (Matt. iii. 11. Luke iii. 3. Acts xiii. 24. and
xix. 4.) And so is regeneration, or being born again, ex
pressed by baptism ; as is evident by such representations
of regeneration as those : John iii. 5. " Except a man be
born of water, and ofthe Spirit." — Tit. iii. 5. "He saved
us by the washing of regeneration." — Many other things
might be observed, to show that the change men pass under
in their repentance and conversion, is the same with that of
which they are the subjects in regeneration. — But these
observations may be sufficient.
II. The change which a man undergoes when born
again, and in his repentance and conversion, is the same
that the scripture calls the circumcision of the heart.
— This may easily appear by considering, that as regene
ration is that in which are attained the habits of true
virtue and holiness, as has been shown, and as is confessed ;
so is circumcision of heart. Deut. xxx. 6. " And the Lord
thy God will circumcise thine heart, and the heart of thy
seed, to love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and
with all thy soul."
Regeneration is that whereby men come to have the
character of true Christians ; as is evident, and as is con
fessed ; and so is circumcision of heart : for by this men
become Jews inwardly, or Jews in the spiritual and chris
tian sense, (and that is the same as being true Christians,) as
of old, proselytes were made Jews by circumcision of the
flesh. Rom. ii. 28, 29. " For he is not a Jew which is
one outwardly ; neither is that circumcision which is out
ward in the flesh : but he is a Jew, which is one inwardly ;
and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit and not
in the letter, whose praise is not of men, but of God."
That circumcision of the heart, is the same with conver
sion, or turning from sin to God, is evident by Jer. iv.
1 — 4. "If thou wilt return, O Israel, return unto me.
Circumcise yourselves to the Lord, and put away the fore
skins of your heart." And Deut. x. 16. "Circumcise
therefore the foreskin of your heart, and be no more stiff-
necked." Circumcision of the heart is the same change of
the heart that men experience in repentance ; as is evident
by Lev. xxvi. 41 . "If their uncircumcised hearts be hum
bled, and they accept the punishment of their iniquity.
The change effected in regeneration, repentance, and
conversion, is signified by baptism, as has been shown ; and
so is circumcision of the heart signified by the same thing.
None will deny, that it was this internal circumcision,
which of old was signified by external circumcision ; nor
will any deny, now under the New Testament, that inward
and spiritual baptism, or the cleansing of the heart, is
signified by external washing or baptism. But spiritual
circumcision and spiritual baptism are the same thing;
both being putting off the body of the sins of the flesh ; as
is very plain by Colos. ii.ll — 13. " In whom also ye are
circumcised, with the circumcision made without hands, in
putting off the body of the sins of the flesh, by the cir
cumcision of Christ, buried with him in baptism, wherein
also ye are risen with him," &c.
III. This inward change, called regeneration, and cir
cumcision of the heart, which is wrought in repentance and
conversion, is the same with that spiritual resurrection
so often spoken of, and represented as a dying unto sin, and
a living unto righteousness. — This appears with great plain-

t Page 246, 248.

I Page 251.

214

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part III

ness in that last cited place, Col. ii. " In whom also ye
are circumcised, with the circumcision made without
hands, — buried with him in baptism, wherein also ye are
risen with him, through the faith of the operation of God,
&c. And you, being dead in your sins, and the uncircum-
cision of your flesh, hath he quickened together with him ;
having forgiven you all trespasses."
The same appears by Rom. vi. 3 — 5. " Know ye not,
that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ,
were baptized into his death 7 Therefore we are buried
with him by baptism into death ; that like as Christ was
raised up from the dead, by the glory of the Father, even
so we also should walk in newness of life," &c. ver. 1 1 .
" Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead unto sin,
but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." In
which place also it is evident, and by the whole context,
that this spiritual resurrection is that change, in which per
sons are brought to habits of holiness and to the divine
life, by which Dr. T. describes the thing obtained in being
born again.
That a spiritual resurrection to a new, divine life, should
be called a being 6orn again, is agreeable to the language
of Scripture. So those words in the 2d Psalm, "Thou
art my Son, this day have I begotten thee," are applied to
Christ's resurrection, Acts xiii. 33. So in Colos. i. 18.
Christ is called the first born from the dead; and in Rev.
i. 5. The first begotten of the dead. The saints, in their
conversion or spiritual resurrection, are risen with Christ,
and are begotten and born with him. 1 Pet. i. 3. " Who
hath begotten us again to a lively hope, by the resurrection
of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incor
ruptible." This inheritance is the same thing with that
kingdom of heaven, which men obtain by being born
again, according to Christ's words to Nicodemus ; and that
same inheritance of them that are sanctified, spoken of as
what is obtained in true conversion. Acts xxvi. 18. " To
turn them (or convert them) from darkness to light, and
from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive
forgiveness of sin, and inheritance among them that are
sanctified, through faith that is in me." Dr. T.'s own
words, in his note on Rom. i. 4. speaking of that place in
the 2d Psalm, are very worthy to be here recited. He
observes how this is applied to Christ's resurrection and
exaltation, in the New Testament, and then has this re
mark, " note, begetting is conferring a new and happy
state : a son is a person put into it. Agreeably to this,
good men are said to be the sons of God, as they are the
sons of the resurrection to eternal life, which is represented
as a TraXi-ryevemo, a being begotten, or born again, re
generated." So that I think it is abundantly plain,
that the spiritual resurrection spoken of in Scripture, by
which the saints are brought to a new divine life, is the same
with that being born again, which Christ says is necessan/
for every one, in order to his seeing the kingdom of God.
IV. This change, of which men are the subjects, when
they are born again, and circumcised in heart, when they
repent, and are converted, and spiritually raised from the
dead, is the same change which is meant when the Scrip
ture speaks of making the heart and spirit new, or
giving a new heart and spirit-
It is almost needless to observe, how evidently this is
spoken of as necessary to salvation, and as the change in
which are attained the habits of true virtue and holiness,
and the character of a true saint ; as has been observed of
regeneration, conversion, See. and how apparent it is, that
the change is the same. Thus repentance, (/«Ta«u<i,) the
change of the mind, is the same as being changed to a
new mind, or a new heart and spirit. Conversion is the
turning of the heart ; which is the same thing as changing
it so, that there shall be another heart, or a new heart, or a
new spirit. To be born again, is to be born anew ; which
implies a becoming new, and is represented as becoming
new-born babes. But none supposes it is the body, that is
immediately and properly new, but the mind, heart, or
spirit. And so a spiritual resurrection is the resurrection
of the spirit, or rising to begin a new existence and life,
as to the mind, heart, or spirit. So that all these phrases
imply, having a new heart, and being renewed in the spirit,
according to their plain signification.
When Nicodemus expressed his wonder at Christ de

claring it necessary, that a man should be born again in
order to see the kingdom of God, or enjoy the privileges
of the kingdom of the Messiah, Christ says to him, Art
thou a master of Israel, and knowest not these things ? i. e.
" Art thou one who is set to teach others the things written
in the law and the prophets, and knowest not a doctrine
so plainly taught in your Scriptures, that such a change is
necessary to a partaking of the blessings of the Messiah's
kingdom?" But what can Christ refer to, unless such
prophecies as that in Ezek. xxxvi. 25 — 27. 7 Where God,
by the prophet, speaking of the days of the Messiah's
kingdom, says, " Then will I sprinkle clean water upon
you, and ye shall be clean. — A new heart also will I give
you, and a new spirit will I put within you — and I will
put my Spirit within you." Here God speaks of having a
new heart and spirit, by being washed with water, and re
ceiving the Spirit of God, as the qualification of God's
people, that shall enjoy the privileges of the Messiah's
kingdom. How much is this like the doctrine of Christ to
Nicodemus, of being born again of water, and of tlie
Spirit ! We have another like prophecy in Ezek. xi. 19. —
Add to this, that regeneration, or a being born again, and
the renewing (or making new) by the Holy Ghost, are
spoken of as the same thing, Tit. iii. 5. "By the washing
of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost."
V. lt is abundantly manifest, that being bom again,
spiritually rising from the dead to newness of life, receiving
a new heart, and being renewed in the spirit of the mind,
are the same thing with that which is called putting off the
old man, and putting on the new man.
The expressions are equivalent ; and the representations
are plainly of the same thing. When Christ speaks of
being born again, two births are supposed : a first and _
second, an old birth and a n ew one : and the thing born
is called man. So what is born in the first birth is the old
man ; and what is brought forth in the second birth, is the
new ryan. That which is born in the first birth (says Christ)
is flesh : it is the carnal man, wherein we have borne the
image of the earthly Adam, whom the apostle calls the
first man. That which is born in the new birth, is spirit,
or the spiritual and heavenly man : wherein we proceed
from Christ the second man, the new man, who is made a
quickening Spirit, and is the Lord from heaven, and the
Head of the new creation. — In the new birth, men are'
represented as becoming new-born babes, which is the same
thing as becoming new men.
And how apparently is what the Scripture says of the
spiritual resurrection of the Christian convert, equivalent
and of the very same import with putting off the old man,
and putting on the new man. So in Rom. vi. the convert
is represented as dying, and being buried with Christ;
which is explained in the 6th verse, by this, that the old
man is crucified, that the body of sin might be destroyed.
And in the 4th verse, converts in this change are spoken
of as risingto newness of life. Are not these things plain
enough 7 The apostle in effect tells us, that when he speaks
of spiritual death and resurrection, he means the same
thing as crucifying and burying the old man, and rising as
a new man.
And it is most apparent, that spiritual circumcision, and
spiritual baptism, and the spiritual resurrection, are all the
same with putting off the old man, and putting on the new
man. This appears by Colos. ii. 11, 12. " In whom also
ye are circumcised with the circumcision made without
hands, inputting off' the body of the sins ofthe flesh, by
the circumcision of Christ, buried with him in baptism ;
wherein also ye are risen with him." Here it is manifest,
that the spiritual circumcision, baptism, and resurrection,
all signify that change wherein men put off the body of the
sms of the flesh : but that is the same thing, in this apos
tle's language, as putting off the old man ; as appears by
Rom. vi. 6. " Our old man is crucified, that the body of
sin may be destroyed." And that putting off the old man
is the same with putting off the body of sin, appears further
by Ephes. iv. 22—24. and Colos. iii. 8 — 10. As Dr.
T. confesses, " that to be born again, is that wherein are
obtained the habits of virtue, religion, and true holiness ;"
so how evidently is the same thing predicated of that
change, which is called putting off the old man, and put
ting on the new man! Eph. iv.' 22 — 24. " That ye put

Chap. II.

PROOFS FROM APPLICATION OF REDEMPTION.

215

off the old man, which is corrupt, &c. and put on the new
man, which after God is created in righteousness and true
holiness." And it is most plain, that this putting off the old man,
&c. is the very same thing with making the heart and spirit
new. It is apparent in itself; the spirit is called the man,
in the language of the apostle ; it is called the inward man,
and the hidden man. (Rom. vii. 22. 2 Cor. iv. 16. 1 Pet.
iii. 4.) And therefore, putting off the old man, is the same
thing with the removal of the old heart ; and the putting
on of the new man, is the receiving of a new heart, and a
new spirit. Yea, putting on the new man is expressly
spoken of as the same thing with receiving a new spirit, or
being renewed in spirit, Eph. iv. 22 — 24. " That ye put off
the old man — and be renewed in the spirit of your mind,
and that ye put on the new man."
From these things it appears, how unreasonable, and
contrary to the utmost degree of scriptural evidence, is
Dr. T.'s way of explaining the old man, and the new man*
as though thereby was meant nothing personal; but that
by the old man was meant the heat/ten stale, and by the
new man the christian dispensation, or state of professing
Christians, or the whole collective body of professors of
Christianity, made up of Jews and Gentile's ; when all the
colour he has for it is, that the apostle once calls the
christian church a new man. (Eph. ii. 15.) It is very
true, in the Scriptures often, both in the Old Testament
and the New, collective bodies, nations, peoples, and cities,
are figuratively represented by persons : particularly the
church of Christ is represented as one holy person, and has
the same appellatives as a particular saint or believer ; and
so is called a child, a son of God, (Exod. iv. 22. Gal. iv.
1, 2.) a servant of God, (l'sa. xii. 8, 9. and xliv. 1.) The
daughter of God, and spouse of Christ, (Psal. xiv. 10, 13,
14. Rev. xix. 7.) Nevertheless, would it be reasonable to
argue, that such appellations, as a servant of God, child of
God, &c. are always or commonly to be taken as signifying
only the church of God in general, or great collective
bodies ; and not to be understood in a personal sense 7
But certainly this would not be more unreasonable than to
urge, that by the old and the new man, as the phrases are
mostly used in Scripture, is to be understood nothing but
the great collective bodies of pagans and of Christians, or
the heathen and the christian world, as to their outward
profession, and the dispensation they are under. It might
have been proper, in this case, to have considered the un
reasonableness of that practice which our author charges
on others, and finds so much fault with in them,f " That
they content themselves with a few scraps of Scripture,
which though wrong understood, they make the test- of
truth, and the ground of their principles, in contradiction
to the whole tenor of revelation."
VI. I observe once more, it is very apparent, that being
born again, and spiritually raised from death to a state of
new existence and life, having a new heart created in us,
being renewed in the spirit of our mind, and being the sub
jects of that change by which we put off the old man, and
put on the new man, is the same thing with that which in
Scripture is called being created anew, or made new
creatures. Here, to pass over many other evidences which might
be mentioned, I would only observe, that the representa
tions are exactly equivalent. These several phrases na
turally and most plainly signify the same effect. In the
first birth, or generation, we are created, or brought into
existence ; it is then the whole man first receives being :
the soul is then formed, and then our bodies are fearfully
and wonderfully made, being curiously wrought by our
Creator. So that a new-born child is a new creature. So,
when»a man is born again, he is created again ; in that new
birth, there is a new creation ; and therein he becomes as
a new-born babe, or a new creature. So, in a resurrec
tion, there is a new creation. When a man is dead, that
which was made in the first creation is destroyed : when
that which was dead is raised to life, the mighty power of
the author of life is exerted the second time, and the sub
ject restored to a new existence, and a new life, as by a
• Page 149—153. S.

new creation. So giving a new heart is called cheating
a clean heart, Psal. li. 10. where the word, translated
create, is the same that is used in the first verse, in Genesis.
And when we read in Scripture of the new creature, the
creature that is called new is man ; and therefore the
phrase, new man, is evidently equipollent with new crea
ture ; and putting off the old man, and putting on the
new man, is spoken of expressly as brought to pass by a
work of creation. Col. iii. 9, 10. " Ye have put off the
old man — and have put on the new man, which is renewed
in knowledge, after the image of him that created him."
So Eph. iv. 22—24. " That ye put off the old man, which
is corrupt, &c. and be renewed in the spirit of your mind,
and that ye put on the new man, which after God is created
in righteousness and true holiness." These things abso
lutely fix the meaning of 2 Cor. v. 17. " If any man be in
Christ, he is a new creature : old things are passed away ;
behold, all things are become new."
On the whole, the following reflections may be made :
1. That it is a truth of the utmost certainty, with respect
to every man born of the race of Adam, by ordinary genera
tion, that unless he be born again, he cannot see the king
dom of God. This is true, not only of the heathen, but of
them that are born of the professing people of God, as Ni
codemus, and the Jews, and every man born of the flesh.
This is most manifest by Christ's discourse in John iii.
3 — 11. So it is plain by 2 Cor. v. 17. That every man
who is in Christ, is a new creature.
2. It appears from this, together with what has been
proved above, that it is most certain with respect to every
one of the human race, that he can never have any interest
in Christ, or see the kingdom of God, unless he be the
subject of that change in the temper and disposition of his
heart, which is made in repentance and conversion, circum
cision of heart, spiritual baptism, dying to sin, and rising to
a new and holy life ; and unless he has the old heart taken
away, and a new heart and spirit given, and puts off the
old man, and puts on the new man, and old things are passed
away, and all things made new.
3. From what is plainly implied in these things, and
from what the Scripture most clearly teaches of the nature
of them, it is certain, that every man is born into the world
in a state of moral pollution. For spiritual baptism is a
cleansing from moral filthiness. (Ezek. xxxvi. 25. com
pared with Acts ii. IG. and John iii. 5.) So the washing
of regeneration, or the new birth, is a change from a state
of wickedness. (Tit. iii. 3 — 5.) Men are spoken of as puri
fied in their regeneration. (1 Pet. i. 22, 23. See also 1
John ii. 29. and iii. 1, 3.) And it appears, that every man
in his first or natural state is a sinner ; for otherwise he
would then need no repentance, no conversion, no
turning from sin to God. And it appears, that every man
in his original state has a heart of stone ; for thus the Scrip
ture calls that old heart, which is taken away, when a new
heart and new spirit is given. (Ezek. xi. 19. and
xxxvi. 26.) And it appears, that man's nature, as in his
native state, is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, and
of its own motion exerts itself in nothing but wicked deeds.
For thus the Scripture characterizes the old man, which
is put off, when men are renewed in the spirit of their
minds, and put on the new man. (Eph. iv. 22 — 24. Col.
iii. 8 — 10.) In a word, it appears, that man's nature, as in
its native state, is a body of sin, which must be destroyed,
must die, be buried, and never rise more. For thus the old
man is represented, which is crucified, when men are the
subjects of a spiritual resurrection. Rom. vi. 4 — 6.
Such a nature, such a body of sin as this, is put off in the
spiritual renovation, wherein we put on the new man,
and are the subjects of the spiritual circumcision. Eph.
iv. 21—23.
It must now be left with the reader to judge for himself,
whether what the Scripture teaches of the application of
Christ's redemption, and the change of state and nature
necessary to true and final happiness, does not afford clear
and abundant evidence to the truth of the doctrine of origi
nal sin.

t Page 224.

216

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

PART IV.

CONTAINING ANSWERS TO OBJECTIONS.

CHAP. I.
CONCERNING THE OBJECTION, THAT TO SUPPOSE MEN
BORN IN SIN, WITHOUT THEIR CHOICE, OR ANY PRE
VIOUS ACT OF THEIR OWN, IS TO SUPPOSE WHAT IS
INCONSISTENT WITH THE NATURE OF SIN.
Some of the objections made against the doctrine of ori
ginal sin, which have reference to particular arguments used
in defence of it, have been already considered in the hand
ling of those arguments. What I shall therefore now con
sider, are such objections as I have not yet had occasion to
notice. There is no argument Dr. T. insists more upon, than that
which is taken from the Arminian and Pelagian notion of
freedom of will, consisting in the will's self-determination,
as necessary to the being of moral good or evil. He often
urges, that if we come into the world infected with sinful
and depraved dispositions, then sin must be natural to us ;
and if natural, then necessary ; and if necessary, then no
sin, nor any thing we are blamable for, or that can in any
respect be our fault, being what we cannot help : and
he urges, that sin must proceed from our own choice,
&c*
Here I would observe in general, that the forementioned
notion of freedom of will, as essential to moral agency, and
necessary to the very existence of virtue and sin, seems to
be a grand favourite point with Pelagians and Arminians,
and all divines of such characters, in their controversies
with the orthodox. There is no one thing more funda
mental in their schemes of religion : on the determination
of this one leading point depends the issue of almost all
controversies we have with such divines. Nevertheless, it
seems a needless task for me particularly to consider that
matter in this place ; having already largely discussed it,
with all the main grounds of this notion, and the argu
ments used to defend it, in a late book on this subject, to
which I ask leave to refer the reader. It is very necessary,
that the modern prevailing doctrine concerning this point,
should be well understood, and therefore thoroughly con
sidered and examined : for without it there is no hope of
putting an end to the controversy about original sin, and
innumerable other controversies that subsist, about many
of the main points of religion. I stand ready to confess to
the forementioned modern divines, if they can maintain
their pecular notion of freedom, consisting in the self-deter
mining power of the will, as necessary to moral agency, and
can thoroughly establish it in opposition to the arguments
lying against it, then they have an impregnable castle, to
which they may repair, and remain invincible, in all the
controversies they have with the reformed divines, con
cerning original sin, the sovereignty of grace, election, re
demption, conversion, the efficacious operation of the Holy
Spirit, the nature of sav'mgfaith, perseverance of the saints,
and other principles of the like kind. However, at the
same time, I think this will be as strong a fortress for the
Deists, in common with them ; as the great doctrines, sub
verted by their notion of freedom, are so plainly and abun
dantly taught in the Scripture. But I am under no appre
hensions of any danger, which the cause of Christianity, or
the religion of the reformed, is in, from any possibility of
that notion being ever established, or of its being ever
evinced that there is not proper, perfect, and manifold de
monstration lying against it. But as I said, it would be
needless for me to enter into a particular disquisition of this
point here ; from which I shall easily be excused by any
reader who is willing to give himself the trouble of con
sulting what I have already written. And as to others,
» Page 125, 128-130, 186-188, 190, 200, 2-15, 216, 253, 258. 63, 64, 161. S.
and other places.

probably they will scarce be at the pains of reading the
present discourse; or at least would not, if it should be en
larged by a full consideration of that controversy.
I shall at this time therefore only take notice of some
gross inconsistencies that Dr. T. has been guilty of, in his
handling this objection against the doctrine of original sin.
In places which have been cited, he says, that sin must
proceed from our own choice : and that if it does not, it
being necessary to us, il cannot be sin, it cannot be our fault,
or what we are to blame for : and therefore all our sin must
be chargeable on our clroice, which is the cause of sin : for
he says, the cause of every effect is alone chargeable with the
effect it produceth, and which proceedeth from it.f Now
here are implied several gross contradictions. He greatly
insists, that nothing can be sinful, or have the nature of
sin, but what proceeds from our choke. Nevertheless he
says, " Not the effect, but the cause alone is chargeable
with blame." Therefore the choice, which is the cause, is
alone blamable, or has the nature of sin; and not the
efftct of that choice. Thus nothing can be sinful, but the
effect of choice ; and yet the effect of choice never can be
sinful, but only the cause, which alone is chargeable with
all the blame.
Again, the choice, from which sin proceeds, is itself sin
ful. Not only is this implied in his saying, " The cause
alone is chargeable with all the blame ;" but he expressly
speaks ofthe choice as faulty, % and calls that choice wicked,
from which depravity and corruption proceeds.^ Now if
the choice itself be sin, and there be no sin but what pro
ceeds from a sinful choice, then the sinful choice must pro
ceed from another antecedent choice ; it must be chosen by
a foregoing act of will, determining itself to that sinful
choice, that so it may have that which he speaks of as
absolutely essential to the nature of sin, namely, that it-
proceeds from our choice, and does not happen to us neces
sarily. But if the sinful choice itself proceeds from a fore
going choice, then also that foregoing choice must be sin
ful ; it being the cause of sin, and so alone chargeable with
the blame. Yet if that foregoing choice be sinful, then
neither must that happen to us necessarily, but must like
wise proceed from choice, another act of choice preceding
that : for we must remember, that " Nothing is sinful but
what proceeds from our choice." And then, for the same
reason, even this prior choice, last mentioned, must also be
sinful, being chargeable with all the blame of that conse
quent evil choice, which was its effect. And so we must
go back till we come to the very first volition, the prime or
original act of choice in the whole chain. And this to be
sure must be a sinful choice, because this is the origin or
primitive cause of all the train of evils which follow; and
according to our author, must therefore be " alone charge
able with all the blame." And yet so it is, according to him,
this " cannot be sinful," because it does not " proceed from
our own choice," or any foregoing act of our will ; it being,
by the supposition, the very first act of will in the case.
And therefore it must be necessary, as to us, having no
choice of ours to be the cause of it.
In p. 232. he says, " Adam's sin was from his own dis
obedient will; and so must every man's sin, and all the sin
in the world be, as well as his." By this, it seems, he
must have a " disobedient will " before he sins ; for the
cause must be before the effect : and yet that disobedient
will itself is sinful ; otherwise it could not be called dis
obedient. But the question is, How do men come by the
disobedient will, this cause of all the sin in the world 7 It
must not come necessarily, without men's choice ; for if
so, it is not sin, nor is there any disobedience in it. There
fore that disobedient will must also come from a disobedient
will ; and so on, in infinitum. Otherwise it must be sup
posed, that there is some sin in the world, which does not

t Page 128.

§ Page 200. See also p. 21 6,

Page 190,

Chap. II.

GOD NOT THE AUTHOR OF SIN.

217

come from a disobedient will : contrary [to our author's dog
matical assertions.
In p. 166. S. he says, " Adam could not sin without a
sinful inclination." Here he calls that inclination itself
sinful, which is the principle from whence sinful acts pro
ceed ; as elsewhere he speaks of the disobedient will from
whence all sin comes : and he allows,* that " the taw
reaches to all the latent principles of sin ;" meaning plainly,
that it forbids, and threatens punishment for, those latent
principles. Now these latent principles of sin, these sin
ful inclinations, without which, according to our author,
there can be no sinful act, cannot all proceed from a sinful
choice ; because that would imply great contradiction.
For, by the supposition, they are the principles from whence
a sinful choice comes, and whence all sinful acts of will
proceed ; and there can be no sinful act without them.
So that the first latent principles and inclinations, from
whence all sinful acts proceed, are sinful; and yet they
are not sinful, because they do not proceed from a wicked
choice, without which, according to him, "nothing can be
sinful." Dr. T. speaking of that proposition of the Assembly of
Divines, wherein they assert, that man is by nature utterly
corrupt, &c. + thinks himself well warranted, by the sup
posed great evidence of these his contradictory notions, to
say, " Therefore sin is not natural to us ; and therefore I
shall not scruple to say, this proposition in the Assembly of
Divines is false." But it may be worthy of consideration,
whether it would not have greatly become him, before he
had clothed himself with so much assurance, and pro
ceeded, on the foundation of these his notions, so magis
terially to charge the Assembly's proposition with falsehood,
to have taken care that his own propositions, which he has
set in opposition to them, should be a little more con
sistent ; that he might not have contradicted himself, while
contradicting them ; lest some impartial judges, observing
his inconsistence, should think they had warrant to de
clare with equal assurance, that "they should not scruple
to say, Dr. T.'s doctrine is false."

CHAP. II.
CONCERNING THE OBJECTION, AGAINST THE DOCTRINE
OF NATIVE CORRUPTION, THAT TO SUPPOSE MEN RE
CEIVE THEIR FIRST EXISTENCE IN SIN, IS TO MAKE HIM
WHO IS THE AUTHOR OF THEIR BEING, THE AUTHOR OP
THEIR DEPRAVITY.
One argument against a supposed native, sinful de
pravity, which Dr. T. greatly insists upon, is, "that this
* Contents of Rom. chap, vii. in Notes on the epistle.
t Page 125. I P. 137, 187^181*, 256, 258, 260. 143. S. and other places
§ Page 187. || Pace 146, 148, 149. S. and the like in many other places.'
IT The sentiment contained in this paragraph, and illustrated in the fol
lowing part of this chapter, is ofthe utmost importance, in order not only to
remove Pelagian prejudices, and the cavils of modern philosophers, but
also to give a just and consistent view of the nature and cause of sin ; the
cause or all sin in general, and original sin' in particular. Our author's ex
planation, which immediately follows, both in the text and in the note, is
ingenious, and in some respects quite satisfactory. But a brief representa
tion of the same result in another way, may demand some attention.
1. Itis probably more philosophical, as well as more intelligible, in de
scribing the two kinds of principles, as the author calls them, possessed by
Adam, to say, that the inferior ones were, Those faculties in man which
constituted him a moral agent; rather than calling them "the princi
ples of mere human nature." Tbe superior ones are very accurately
described; but instead of calling them "supernatural principles;" they
may more properly be termed, divine, benevolent, sovereign influence,
SUPERADDED TO THOSE FACULTIES WHICH CONSTITUTED ADAM A MORAL
agent. This representation leads to the essential relations that subsist be
tween God and his creature man. " Mere human nature," and '* super
natural principles" convey no distinctive character of relation. " Faculties
which constitute a moral agent," express the ground of relation between
equity in God and account ableness in man ; and " benevolent influences,"
express the ground of relation between sovereignty in God and passiveness
in man.
2. That Adam had such qualifications, or faculties, as rendered him a
moral agent, independently of his spiritual knowledge, righteousness, holi
ness, dominion, honour, and glory— in other words, his divine light, holy life,
and supreme love to God— is self-evident. For, after he had lost these ex
cellencies, he was confessedly no less a moral agent, and accountable to his
divine Governor and Judge for his temper, thoughts, desires, words, and
works, than he was before he lost them.
3. The philosophical cause, or the true origin, of Adam's defection, was
his liberty in union with his passive power. For an explanation of these
terrns, and the proof of the proposition just laid down, we must refer the
reader to our notes on the first volume of this work, where the subject is
professedly discussed.
4. TJie true and ultimate cause of the first sin of Adam, of all his subse-

does in effect charge him, who is the author, of our nature,
who formed us in the womb, with being the author of a sin
ful corruption of nature ; and that it is highly injurious to
the God of our nature, whose hands have formed and
fashioned us, to believe our nature to be originally cor
rupted, and that in the worst sense of corruption. X
With respect to this, I would observe, in the first place,
that this writer, in handling this grand objection, supposes
something to belong to the doctrine objected against, as
maintained by the divines whom he is opposing, which
does not belong to it, nor follow from it. As particularly,
he supposes the doctrine of original sin to imply, that na
ture must be corrupted by some positive influence ; " some
thing, by some means or other, infused into the human
nature; some quality or other, not from the choice of our
minds, but like a taint, tincture, or infection, altering the
natural constitution, faculties, and dispositions of our
souls.§ That sin and evil dispositions are implanted in
the foetus in the womb. "|| Whereas truly our doctrine
neither implies nor infers any such thing. In order to ac
count for a sinful corruption of nature, yea, a total native
depravity ofthe heart of man, there is not the least need of
supposing any evil quality, infused, implanted, or wrought
into the nature of man, by any positive cause, or influence
whatsoever, either from God, or the creature; or of sup
posing, that man is conceived and born with a fountain of
evil in his heart, such as is any thing properly positive. I
think, a little attention to the nature of things will be suf
ficient to satisfy any impartial considerate inquirer, that the
absence of positive good principles, and so the withholding
of a special divine influence to impart and maintain those
good principles — leaving the common natural principles of
self-love, natural appetite, &c. to themselves, without the
government of superior divine principles — will certainly be
followed with the corruption ; yea, the total corruption of
the heart, without occasion for any positive influence at all :
and that it was thus in fact that corruption of nature came
on Adam, immediately on his fall, and comes on all his
posterity, as sinning in him, and falling with him -IT
The case with man was plainly this : When God made
man at first, he implanted in him two kinds of principles.
There was an inferior kind, which may be called natural, :
being the principles of mere human nature ; such as self-
.love, with those natural appetites and passions, which be
long to the nature of man, in which his love to his own
liberty, honour, and pleasure, were exercised : these, when
alone, and left to themselves, are what the Scriptures
sometimes call flesh. Besides these, there were superior
principles, that were spiritual, holy, and divine, summarily
comprehended in divine love; wherein consisted the spi
ritual image of God, and man's righteousness and true
holiness; which are called in Scripture the divine na-
quent sins, and those of his posterity, whether infants or adults, is not es
sentially different. If the principles, as our author calls them, or the facul
ties and qualifications, which constitute moral agency and accountability,
be left to themselves — whereby they become influenced by passive power,
not counteracted by sovereign, benevolent, or holy divine influence — the
effect will be the same, though attended with different circumstances.
5. When the cause of Adam's integrity, perfection, spirituality, and hap
piness, or his paradisiacal life, was no longer operative for his preservation,
defection ensued; which consisted in the loss of the chief good, together
with that disorder, confusion, and a conscious exposedness to a continuance
in that state, whereby happiness was necessarily exchanged for a restless
uneasiness, called misery.
6. This was the case of Adam in his own person. But our author, in the
next chanter, excellently shows, that Adam and all his posterity were strict
ly one. This union we may call a systematic whole. For mankind, or the
whole race of man, has a constituted connexion, no less than a seed with
its plant; for instance, the acorn with tbe oak-plant, and that with its future
branches. We justly called it the same tree from the time it was planted
to its utmost longevity, though some of its branches came into existence a
hundred years or more after the first shoot. This union of Adam with his
posterity, is no less a constituted union, than that which connects the solar
system ; or any other inferior systematic whole, as an animal body, which
is regarded as one from its birth till its death. For instance, nothing but a
constitution founded in the sovereign pleasure of God, caused the body of
Methuselah to be tbe same, or regarded as the same, when in infancy,
and above nine hundred years after. The parts of his body, at least most
of them, were as different in old age, compared with his infancy, as any of
his posterity are different from Adam. In each case alike, the appointment
of God in forming a course of nature, or his operations according to a con
stituted plan, could make the body of Methuselah to be the same body from
the first to the last ; and the posterity of Adam the same with himself.
7. In every vital system there is a vital part, and in every other system,
as such, one part is more essential than another. Adam was the vital part
of the system of mankind. — The root of the tree, the foundation of the
building, the main spring of the machine, the sun of the system. We his
posterity are but so many members of a body, and are all dependent on him
as on our head or heart ; but not so on one another. There may be the
amputation of a limb, while the other limbs are not injured ; but if the head
or heart be deprived of life, all the members are deprived at the same timo.

218

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV

ture. These principles may, in some sense, be called su
pernatural,* being (however concreated or connate, yet)
such as are above those principles that are essentially im
plied in, or necessarily resulting from, and inseparably
.connected with, mere human nature ; and being such as
immediately depend on man's union and communion with
God, or divine communications and influences of God's
Spirit : which though withdrawn, and man's nature for
saken of these principles, human nature would be human
nature still ; man's nature, as such, being entire without
these divine principles, which the Scripture sometimes
calls spirit, in contradistinction to flesh. *These superior
principles were given to possess the throne, and maintain
an absolute dominion in the heart ; the other to be wholly
subordinate and subservient. And while things con
tinued thus, all was in excellent order, peace, and beauti
ful harmony, and in a proper and perfect state. These
divine principles thus reigning, were the dignity, life, hap
piness, and glory of man's nature. When man sinned
and broke God's covenant, and fell under his curse, these
superior principles left his heart : for indeed God then
left him; that communion with God on which these
principles depended, entirely ceased ; the Holy Spirit, that
A branch of a tree may be lopped off without injury to the other part ; but if
the root, the vital part, be affected, all the branches are also affected as the
necessary consequence. A dead root and a living tree are incompatible ;
though a dead branch and a living branch of the same tree are not A
watch is a system formed on principles of mechanism, the index may be
mutilated, or the cog of a wheel may be broken and detached, without af
fecting the more essential parts; but if the main spring be broken, the
whole system, as to its designed use, is destroyed. A building is a system ;
a slate or a chimney may be blown down, without affecting the foundation,
but if the whole foundation be undermined, the whole fabric must fall to
ruin. The solar system might subsist, for ought that appears to the contrary,
though a comet, a satellite, or a planet, were annihilated; but if the sun
were annihilated, ruin and confusion must ensue.
8. Whatever Adam lost by transgression, he could have no claim either in
equity or by promise, that is, he could have no claim at all, for a restora
tion of it. And what he could have no claim for himself, could not be
claimable by or for his posterity ; any more than a branch or a member
could obtain life, when the root of that branch or the head of that member
had ceased to live ; or any more than the subordinate parts of any system
when the radical, vital, fundamental, and essential parts had failed.
9. What Adam lost was the divine life, and the happiness implied in it,
as a. favour granted on a condition. Observing this condition, he was to
have it continued ; but on breaking the condition, it was to be forfeited.
Adam may be compared to a lord in waiting, who should have free access
to every room in the king's palace one excepted. By abstaining from this
intrusion, he should have his honour and dignity preserved, and confirmed
to his heirs for ever ; but by offending as to the condition prescribed, he
must sink to the rank of a common subject, stripped of all his former dig
nity. How absurd would it be for the heirs of such a lord to step forward
and claim what he had forfeited ! Equally absurd is it to say, that Adam's
posterity are no sufferers by his transgression.
10. If we would form accurate notions of Adam's transgression, original
sin, and the imputation of guilt, it will be of the utmost importance to con
sider the divine law. by which is the knowledge of sin, under a twofold
consideration. As a rule requiring conformity and obedience in every pe
riod of our existence, or the measure of moral obligation; and as a cove
nant, the condition of which was perfect conformity and obedience, under
a forfeiture of a special favour. The law as a rule may be transgressed
times and methods innumerable; but as a covenant it could be trans
gressed only once. For the very first offence was a breach ofthe condi
tion, and a forfeiture of that favour which depended on the performance of
that condition. It is possible for the transgressor of the law as a rule to be
come, through grace, a perfect character, and therefore perfectly con
formable to that law. But to be perfectly conformable to the required con
dition, once broken, is impossible ,* as impossible as to recall time once
past, or to make transgression to be no transgression.
11. Our author very justly remarks that *' there is not the least, need of
supposing any evil quality infused, implanted, or wrought into the nature
of man, by any positive cause or influence, whatsoever, either from God,
or the creature ; or of supposing, that man is conceived and born with a
fountain of evil in his heart, such as is any thing properly positive." But
however just this remark, there is reason to fear that many beside Dr.
Taylor have imbibed a notion of original sin considerably different from
what is here asserted. It is not improbable that the terms by which the
evil has been commonly expressed without a due examination of the idea
intended, have had no small influence to effect this. The frequent use of
such analogical and allusive terms as pollution, defilement, corruption,
contamination, and the like, seems to intimate something positive; as
these expressions in their original meaning convey an idea of something
superadded to the subject Whereas other terms, though equally analo
gical and allusive, imply no such thing ; such as, disorder, discord, confu
sion, and the like. We do not mean to condemn the use ofthe former, or
to recommend the latter to their exclusion; but only design to caution
against a wrong inference from a frequent use of them.
12. On the subject ofthe imputation of Adam's offence to his posterity,
our author, in the next chapter, has treated very ably and fully. But we
may here observe, that it is of the greatest importance to have just views
of what is called original guilt. It is to be feared that many form very
confused notions ofthe subject, when it is said, " we are all guilty when
born," or "we are all guilty of Adam's transgression," or "the guilt of
Adam's offence is ours." Though we conceive These, and similar proposi
tions, to be expressive of an important truth ; yet we are no less liable to
be led astray from the true idea referred to by these expressions, than by
others employed to represent moral depravity.
13. It may contribute to a clearness of conception on the subject, if we
keep in mind, that Adam was guilty by his first offence, under a twofold
consideration. He was guilty of a breach of law considered as a rule of
rectitude, and of the same law as a covenant enjoining the observance of a
special duty, which was the avowed and express condition of it. The per
formance of the condition was to secure not merely moral purity and inno
cence, but also the favour, or gracious benefit, which he possessed on the
footing of a sovereign grant. This was his federal privilege. How by the

divine inhabitant, forsook the house. Because it would
have been utterly improper in itself, and inconsistent with
the constitution God had established, that he should still
maintain communion with man, and continue by his
friendly, gracious, vital influences, to dwell with him and
in him, after he was become a rebel, and had incurred
God's wrath and curse. Therefore immediately the supe
rior divine principles wholly ceased ; so light ceases in a
room when the candle is withdrawn ; and thus man was
left in a state of darkness, woful corruption, and ruin ;
nothing but flesh without spirit. The inferior principles
of self-love, and natural appetite, which were given only to
serve, being alone, and left to themselves, of course be
came reigning principles; having no superior principles to
regulate or control them, they became absolute masters of
the heart. The immediate consequence of which was a
fatal catastrophe, a turning of all things upside down, and
the succession of a state of the most odious and dreadful
confusion. Man immediately set up himself, and the ob
jects of his private affections and appetites, as supreme;
and so they took the place of God. These inferior prin
ciples are like fire in a house ; which, we say, is a good
servant, but a bad master; very useful while kept in its
transgression of the law, considered as a covenant, this favour was forfeit
ed ; and for God to treat him as one deprived of this favour, is the same
thing as to treat him as guilty. For how could he be treated otherwise,
when the very condition on which he retained the favour was broken ?;
14. Whatever Adam possessed, beyond those considerations which con
stituted him a moral agent, was the fruit of sovereign benevolence. Hence
arises the propriety of regarding the possession of bis privilege, on the oby
servance of a specified condition, under the term covenant. For, if Adarn
possessed some spiritual principles, or benevolent influences, as a person
possesses immunities and privileges by charter for himself and his heirs;
and if these chartered benefits be retained on condition of not offending in
a specified manner ; it follows, that a privation of such benefits belongs as
much to the heirs as to the individual offending. But if they are treated for
breach of such covenant, or charter held on condition, as persons included
in the forfeiture.it is manifest they are regarded so far guilty otworthy to
suffer' such loss.
15, From these considerations it follows that Adam's breach of law as a
rule which brought guilt upon him as an individual, is not the guilt imputa
ble to his posterity. During hislong.life, no doubt, he was guilty of innumer
able offences after the first transgression, but not one of these is imputed to
us ; the reason is, that after he broke the condition of the charter, he stood
upon the bare ground of personal moral obligation. But personal guilt, on
such ground, cannot in equity be transferred from one to another. The
sins of the father, whether the first father or any other, considered merely
as a personal deviation from rectitude, or a breach of moral obligation, can
not be imputed to the children.
16. What Adam, therefore, suffered for breach of covenant, was a priva
tion of chartered benefits. The unavoidable effect of this was, death ; a
privation of spiritual life — which continued is death eternal — and a privation
of that protection and care which would have preserved from temporal
death. There seems little room to doubt that even the corporeal, or
elementary part of Adam underwent a great change by the fall. However,
having forfeited his charter of preservation by transgression, he and all
his posterity became exposed to the natural operations of this world and its
elements. Matter and motion, in animals and vegetables, in the natural
state of things, insure a dissolution.
17. Much has been said by some divines, about the probability of Adam,
had he kept the condition, being promoted to some situation still more ex
alted. But there is reason to suspect, that such a sentiment proceeds on
the supposition of Adam possessing a less exalted situation than he really
did possess. The idea seems to be founded on a probable promotion for
continued obedience. But what could be a greater reward than a con-
tinuance of his chartered privileges ? And what a greater loss than their
forfeiture ?
18. It would not be difficult to demonstrate, were not this note too far ex
tended to admit of it, that Adam , dealt with on the ground of strict equity,
would have been not less liable to defection than nis posterity are, when
they begin to exercise moral agency. Therefore, the objection against the
constitution of Adam and his posterity being regarded as one, is deprived of
all force. For, whatever creature, in whatever world, were dealt with til
strict equity, without benevolent influence to counteract passive power, he
would have no advantage against a liability to defection above the race of
man after the fall. The only difference is, that Adam once actually pos
sessed an exalted privilege, and fell from it And if bis posterity, rendered
so far guilty as to be deprived of chartered benefits with him, cannot be
raised to happiness from their fallen state without the exercise of benevo
lent sovereign influence in the plan of salvation ; it should be recollected,
that Adam himself could not have maintained his standing but by the same
benevolent sovereign influence, though exercised in a different way.
COROLLARY.
19. Hence the propriety and the true ground of the well known dis
tinction of a believer in tho second Adam not being under the law (i. e. the
condemnation of the law) as a covenant, though under the law as a rule. It is
found, as to its true reason, in the state of Adam, as above explained. — W.
* To prevent all cavils, the reader is desired particularly to observe, in
what sense I here use the words natural and supernatural :— Not as epithets
of distinction between that which is concreated or connate, and that which
is extraordinarily introduced afterwards, besides the first state of things, or
the order established originally, beginning when man's nature began; but
as distinguishing between what belongs to, or flows from, that nature which
man has, merely as man, and those things which are above this, by which
one is denominated, not only a man, but a truly virtuous, holy, and spi
ritual man ; which, though they began in Adam as soon as humanity be
gan, and are necessary to the perfection and well-being of the human na
ture, yet are not essential to the constitution of it, or necessary to its being :
inasmuch as one may have every thing needful to his being man, exclu
sively of them. If in thus using the words, natural and supernatural, I
use them in an uncommon sense, it is not from any affectation of singu
larity, but for want of other terms more aptly to express my meaning.

Chap. II.

GOD NOT THE AUTHOR OF SIN.

219

place, but if left to take possession of the whole house,
soon brings all to destruction. Man's lore to his own
honour, separate interest, and private pleasure, which be
fore was wholly subordinate unto love to God, and regard
to his authority and glory, now disposes and impels him
to pursue those objects, without regard to God's honour,
or law; because there is no true regard to these divine
things left in him. In consequence of which, he seeks
those objects as much when against God's honour and law,
as when agreeable to them. God still continuing strictly
to require supreme regard to himself, and forbidding all
undue gratifications of these inferior passions — but only in
perfect subordination to" the ends, and agreeableness to
the rules and limits, which his holiness, honour, and law
prescribe— hence immediately arises enmity in the heart,
now wholly under the power of self-love ; and nothing but
war ensues, in a constant course, against God. As, when
a subject has once renounced his lawful sovereign, and set
up a pretender in his stead, a state of enmity and war
against his rightful king necessarily ensues. It were easy
to show, how every lust, and depraved disposition of
man's heart, would naturally arise from this private
original, if here were room for it. Thus it is easy to give
an account, how total corruption of heart should follow
on man's eating the forbidden fruit, though that was but
one act of sin, without God putting any evil into his heart,
or implanting any bad principle, or infusing any corrupt
taint, and so becoming the author of depravity. Only
God's withdrawing, as it was highly proper and necessary
that he should, from rebel-man, and his natural principles
being left to tliemselves, is sufficient to account for his be
coming entirely corrupt, and bent on sinning against God.
And as Adam's nature became corrupt, without God's
implanting or infusing of any evil thing into it ; so does
the nature of his posterity. God dealing with Adam as
the head of his posterity, (as has been shown,) and treating
them as one, he deals with his posterity as having aft
sinned in him. And therefore, as God withdrew spiritual
communion, and his vital gracious influence, from the
common head, so he withholds the same from all the
members, as they come into existence ; whereby they
come into the world mere flesh, and entirely under the
government of natural and inferior principles ; and so be
come wholly corrupt, as Adam did.
Now, for God so far to have the disposal of this affair,
as to withhold those influences, without which, nature will
be corrupt, is not to be the author of sin. But, concern
ing this, I must refer the reader to what I have said of it
in my discourse on the Freedom of the Will.* Though,
besides what I have there said, I may here observe, that
if for God so far to order and dispose the being of sin,
as to permit it, by withholding the gracious influences
necessary to prevent it, is for him to be the author of sin,
then some things which Dr. T. himself lays down, will
equally be attended with this very consequence. For,
from time to time he speaks of God giving men up to the
vilest lusts and affections, by permitting, or leaving them.f
Now, if the continuance of sin, and its increase and preva
lence, may be in consequence of God's disposal, in with
holding needful grace, without God being the author of
that continuance and prevalence of sin ; then, by parity of
reason, may the being of sin, in the race of Adam, he in
consequence of God's 'disposal, by his withholding that
grace which is needful to prevent it, without his being the
author of sin.
If here it should be said, that God is not the author of
sin, in giving up to sin those who have already made
themselves sinful, because when men have once made
themselves sinful, their continuing so, and sin prevailing
in them, and becoming more and more habitual, will fol
low in a course of nature : I answer, let that be remembered
which this writer so greatly urges, in opposition to them
who suppose original corruption comes in a course of
nature, viz. That the course of nature is nothing without
God. He utterly rejects the notion of the " course of
nature's being a proper active cause, which will work, and
go on by itself, without God, if he lets or permits it."
% But affirms, " That the course of nature, separate from

* Part iv. S 9.
t Key, § 388, note :

and Par. on Rom. i. 24,

the agency of God, is no cause or nothing ; and that the
course of nature should continue itself,- or go on to operate
by itself, any more than at first produce itself, is absolutely
impossible." These strong expressions are his. Therefore,
to explain the continuance ofthe habits of sin in the same
person, when once introduced, yea, to explain the very
being of any such habits, in consequence of repeated acts,
our author must have recourse to those same principles,
which he rejects as absurd to the utmost degree, when
alleged to explain the corruption of nature in the posterity
of Adam. For, that habits, either good or bad, should
continue, after being once established, or that habits should
be settled and have existence in consequence of repeated
acts, can be owing only to a course of nature, and those
laws of nature which God has established.
That the posterity of Adam should be born without
holiness, and so with a depraved nature, comes to pass as
much by the established course of nature, as the continu
ance of a corrupt disposition in a particular person, after
he once has it ; or as much as Adam's continuing unholy
and corrupt, after he had once lost his holiness. For
Adam's posterity are from him, and as it were in him, and
belonging to him, according to an established course of
nature, as much as the branches of a tree are, according to
a course of nature, from the tree, in the tree, and belonging
to the tree ; or, (to make use ofthe comparison which Dr. T.
himself chooses from time to time, as proper to illustrate
the matter,§) just as the acorn is derivedfrom the oak. And
I think, the acorn is as much derived from the oak, accord
ing to the course of nature, as the buds and branches. It
is true, that God, by his own almighty power, creates the
soul of the infant ; and it is also true, as Dr. T. often in
sists, that God, by his immediate power, forms and
fashions the body of the infant in the womb ; yet he does
both according to that course of nature, which he has been
pleased to establish. The course of nature is demon
strated, by late improvements in philosophy, to be indeed
what our author himself says it is, viz. Nothing but the
established order of the agency and operation ofthe author
of nature. And though there be the immediate agency of
God in bringing the soul into existence in generation, yet
it is done according to the method and order established
by the author of nature, as much as his producing the bud,
or the acorn of the oak ; and as much as his continuing a
particular person in being, after he once has existence.
God's immediate agency in bringing the soul of a child
into being, is as much according to an established order, as
his immediate agency in any of the works of nature what
soever. It is agreeable to the established order of nature,
that the good qualities wanting in the tree, should also be
wanting in the brandies and fruit. It is agreeable to the
order of nature, that when a particular person is without
good moral qualities in his heart, he should continue with
out them, till some new cause or efficiency produces them.
And it is as much agreeable to an established course and
order of nature, that since Adam, the head of mankind,
the root of that great tree with many branches springing
from it, was deprived of original righteousness, the branches
should come forth without it. Or, if any dislike the word
nature, as used in this last case, and instead of it choose to
call it a constitution, or established order of successive
events, the alteration of the name will not in the least alter
the state of the present argument. Where the name,
nature, is allowed without dispute, no more is meant than
an established method and order of events, settled and
limited by divine wisdom.
If any should object to this, that if the want of original
righteousness be thus according to an established course of
nature, then why are not principles of holiness, when re
stored bi; divine grace, also communicated to posterity ; I
answer, The divine law and establishments of the author
of nature, are precisely settled by him as he pleaseth, and
limited by his wisdom. Grace is introduced among the
race of man by a new establishment ; not on the ground of
God's original establishment, as the head of the natural
world, and author ofthe first creation ; but by a constitu
tion of a vastly higher kind ; wherein Christ is made the
root of the tree, whose branches are his spiritual seed, and
t Page 134. S. Sec also with what vehemence this is urged in p. 137. S.
§ Page 146, 1ST.

220

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

he is the head of the new creation ; of which I need not
stand now to speak particularly.
But here I desire it may be noted, that I do not suppose
the natural depravity of the posterity of Adam is owing to
the course of nature only ; it is also owing to the just
judgment of God. But yet I think, it is as truly and in
the same manner owing to the course of nature, that
Adam's posterity come into the world without original
righteousness, as that Adam himself continued without it,
after he had once lost it. That Adam continued destitute
of holiness, when he had lost it, and would always have so
continued, had it not been restored by a Redeemer, was
not only a natural consequence, according to the course of
things established by God, as the author of nature ; but it
was also a penal consequence, or a punishment of his sin.
God, in righteous judgment, continued to absent himself
from Adam after he became a rebel ; and withheld from
him now those influences of the Holy Spirit, which he be
fore had. And just thus I suppose it to be with every
natural branch of mankind : all are looked upon as sinning
in and with their common root; and God righteously
withholds special influences and spiritual communications
from all, for this sin. But of the manner and order of
these things, more may be said in the next chapter.
On the whole, this grand objection against the doctrine
of men being born corrupt, that it makes him who gave us
our being, to be the cause of the being of corruption, can
have no more force in it, than a like argument has to prove,
that if men by a course of nature continue wicked, or re
main without goodness, after they have by vicious acts
contracted vicious habits, and so made themselves wicked,
it makes him, who is the cause of their continuance in
being, and the cause of the continuance of the course of
nature, to be the cause o/'fAejrcoNTiNUEn wickedness. Dr.
T. says,* " God would not make any thing that is hateful
to him ; because, by the very terms, he would hale to make
such a thing." But if this be good arguing in the case to
which it is applied, may I not as well say, God would not
continue a thing in being that is hateful to him ; be
cause, by the very terms, he would hate to continue such
a thing in being ? I think, the very terms do as much
(and no more) infer one of these propositions, as the other.
In like manner, the rest that he says on that head may be
shown to be unreasonable, by only substituting the word
continue, in the place of make and propagate. 1 may fairly
imitate his way of reasoning thus : to say, God continues
us according to his own original decree, or law of con
tinuation, which obliges him to continue us in a manner he
abhors, is really to make bad worse : for it is supposing
him to be defective in wisdom, or by his own decree or
law to lay such a constraint upon his own actions, that he
cannot do what he would, but is continually doing what
he would not, what he hates to do, and what he condemns
in us ; viz. continuing us sinful when he condemns us for
continuing ourselves sinful." If the reasoning be weak in
the one case, it is no less so in the other.
If any shall still insist, that there is a difference between
God so disposing things, as that depravity of heart shall be
continued, according to the settled course of nature, in the
same person, who has by his own fault introduced it ; and
his so disposing as that men, according to a course of na
ture, should be born with depravity, in consequence of
Adam's introducing of sin, by his act which we had no
concern in, and cannot be justly charged with : on this I
would observe, that it is quite going off the objection,
which we have been upon, from God's agency, and flying
to another. It is then no longer insisted on, that simply
for him, from whose agency the course of nature and our
existence derive, so to dispose things as that we should
have existence in a corrupt state, is for him to be the author
of sin : but the plea now advanced is, that it is not proper
and just for such an agent so to dispose, in this case, and
only in consequence of Adam's sin ; it not being just to
charge Adam's sin to his posterity. And this matter shall
be particularly considered, in answer to the next objection ;
to which I now proceed.

Pag. 136. S.

CHAP. III.
THAT GREAT OBJECTION AGAINST THE IMPUTATION OP
ADAM'S SIN TO HIS POSTERITY, CONSIDERED, THAT SUCH
IMPUTATION IS UNJUST AND UNREASONABLE, INASMUCH
AS ADAM AND HIS POSTERITY ARE NOT ONE AND THE SAME.
WITH A BRIEF REFLECTION SUBJOINED OF WHAT SOME
HAVE SUPPOSED, OF GOD IMPUTING THE GUILT OF ADAM'S
SIN TO HIS POSTERITY, BUT IN AN INFINITELY LESS DE
GREE THAN TO ADAM HIMSELF.
That we may proceed with the greater clearness in con
sidering the main objections against supposing the guilt of
Adam's sin to be imputed to his posterity ; I would pre
mise some observations with a view to the right stating of
the doctrine ; and then show its reasonableness, in opposi
tion to the great clamour raised against it on this head.
I think, it would go far towards directing us to the more
clear conception and right statement of this affair, were we
steadily to bear this in mind : that God, in every step of
his proceeding with Adam, in relation to the covenant or
constitution established with him, looked on his posterity
as being one with him. And though he dealt more imme
diately with Adam, it yet was as the head of the whole
body, and the root of the whole tree ; and in his proceed
ings with him, he dealt with all the branches, as if they had
been then existing in their root.
From which it will follow, that both guilt, or exposed
ness to punishment, and also depravity of heart, came upon
Adam's posterity just as they came upon him, as much as
if he and they had all co-existed, like a tree with many
branches; allowing only for the difference necessarily re
sulting from the place Adam stood in, as head or root of
the whole. Otherwise, it is as if, in every step of proceed
ing, every alteration in the root had been attended, at the
same instant, with the same alterations throughout the
whole tree, in each individual branch. I think, this will
naturally follow on the su pposition of there being a consti
tuted oneness or identity of Adam and his posterity in this
affair. Therefore I am humbly of opinion, that if any have
supposed the children of Adam to come into the world with
a double guilt, one the guilt of Adam's sin, another the guilt
arising from their having a corrupt heart, they have not so
well conceived of the matter. The guilt a man has upon
his soul at first existence, is one and simple, viz. the guilt of
the original apostacy, the guilt of the sin by which the species
first rebelled against God. This, and the guilt arising from
the depraved disposition of the heart, are not to be looked
upon as two things, distinctly imputed and charged upon
men in the sight of God. Indeed the guilt that arises from
the corruption of the heart, as it remains a confirmed prin
ciple, and appears in its consequent operations, is a distinct
and additional guilt : but the guilt arising from the first
existing of a depraved disposition in Adam's posterity, I
apprehend, is not distinct from their guilt of Adam's first
sin. For so it was not in Adam himself. The first evil
disposition or inclination of Adam to sin, was not properly
distinct from his first act of sin, but was included in it.
The external act he committed was no otherwise his, than
as his heart was in it, or as that action proceeded from the
wicked inclination of his heart. Nor was the guilt he had
double, as for two distinct sins : one, the wickedness of his
will in that affair ; another, the wickedness ofthe external
act, caused by it. His guilt was all truly from the act of
his inward man ; exclusive of which the motions of his body
were no more than the motions of any lifeless instrument.
His sin consisted in wickedness of heart, fully sufficient
for, and entirely amounting to, all that appeared in the act
he committed.
The depraved disposition of Adam's heart is to be con
sidered two ways. (1.) As the first rising of an evil in
clination in his heart, exerted in his first act of sin, and the
ground of the complete transgression. (2.) An evil dispo
sition of heart continuing afterwards, as a confirmed prin
ciple that came by God s forsaking of him ; which was a

Chap. III.

THE IMPUTATION OF ADAM'S SIN STATED.

221

punishment of his first transgression. This confirmed cor
ruption, by its remaining and continued operation, brought
additional guilt on his soul.
In like manner, depravity of heart is to be considered
two ways in Adam's posterity. The first existing of a
corrupt disposition, is not to be looked upon as sin distinct
from their participation of Adam's first sin. It is as it
were the extended pollution of that sin, through the whole
tree, by virtue of the constituted union of the branches
with the root ; or the inherence of the sin of that head of
the species in the members, in their consent and concur
rence with the head in that first act. But the depravity of
nature remaining as an established principle in a child of
Adam, and as exhibited in after-operations, is a conse
quence and punishment of the first apostacy thus partici
pated, and brings new guilt. The first being of an evil
disposition in a child of Adam, whereby he is disposed to
approve the sin of his first father, so far as to imply a full
and perfect consent of heart to it, I think, is not to be looked
upon as a consequence of the imputation of that first sin,
any more than the full consent of Adam's own heart in the
act of sinning ; which was not consequent on the imputa
tion, but rather prior to it in the order of nature. Indeed
the derivation 01 the evil disposition to Adam's posterity,
or rather, the co -existence of the evil disposition, implied in
Adam's first rebellion, in the root and branches, is a con
sequence of the union that the wise Author of the world
has established between Adam and his posterity; but not
properly a consequence of the imputation of his sin ; nay, is
rather antecedent to it, as it was in Adam himself. The
first depravity of heart, and the imputation of that sin, are
both the consequences of that established union ; but yet
in such order, that the evil disposition is first, and the
charge of guilt consequent, as it was in the case of Adam
himself* The first existence of an evil disposition, amounting to
a full consent to Adam's sin, no more infers God being the
author of that evil disposition in the child, than in the
father. The first arising or existing of that evil disposition
in the heart of Adam, was by God's permission ; who could
have prevented it, if lie had pleased, by giving such in
fluences of his Spirit, as would liave been absolutely
effectual to hinder it ; which, it is plain in fact, he did
withhold: and whatever mystery may be supposed in the
affair, yet no Christian will presume to say, it was not in
* My meaning, in the whole of what has been here said, may be illus
trated thus : Let us suppose that Adam and all his posterity had co-existed,
and that his posterity had been, through a law of nature established by the
Creator, united to him, something as the branches of a tree are united to
the root, or the members of the body to the head, so as to constitute as it
were one complex person, or one moral whole : so that by the law of union
there should have been a communion and co-existence in acts and affec
tions; all jointly participating, and all concurring, as one whole, in the dis-
Sosition and action of the head : as we see in tbe body natural, the whole
ody is affected as the head is affected ; and the whole body concurs when
the head acts. Now, in this case, all the branches of mankind, by the con
stitution of nature and law of union, would have been affected .just as
Adam, their common root, was affected. When the heart of the root, by a
full disposition, committed the first sin, the hearts of all the branches would
have concurred ; and when the root, in consequence of this, became guilty,
so would all the branches; and when the root, as a punishment of the sin
committed, was forsaken of God, in like manner would it have fared with
all the branches ; and when the root, in consequence of this, was confirmed
in permanent depravity, the case would have been the same with all the
branches ; and as new guilt on the soul of Adam would have been conse
quent on this, so also would it have been with his moral branches. And
thus all things, with relation to evil disposition, guilt, pollution, and de
pravity, would exist, in the same order and dependence, in each branch, as
in the root. Now, difference ofthe time of existence does not at all hinder
things succeeding in the same order, any more than difference of place in a
co-existence of time.
Here may be observed, as in several respects to the present purpose, some
things that are said by Stapfkrus, an eminent divine of Zurich, in Swit
zerland, in his Theologia Polemica, published about fourteen years ago ;— in
English as follows. " Seeing all Adam's posterity are derived from their
first parent, as their root, the whole of the human kind, with its root, may
be considered as constituting but one whole, or one mass ; so as not to be
properly distinct from its root ; the posterity not differing from it, any other
wise than the branches from the tree. From which it easily appears, how
that when the root sinned, all that which is derived from it, and with it
constitutes but one whole, may be looked upon as also sinning ; seeing it is
not distinct from the root, but one with it." — Tom. i. cap. 3. § 856. 57.
" It is objected, against the imputation of Adam's sin, that we never
committed the same sin with Adam, neither in number nor in kind. I
answer, we should distinguish here between the physical act itself, which
Adam committed, and the morality of the action, and consent to it. If we
have respect only to the external act, to be sure it must be confessed, that
Adam's posterity did not put forth their hands to the forbidden fruit : in
which sense, that act of transgression, and that fall of Adam, cannot be phy
sically one with the sin of his posterity. But if we consider the morality of
the action, and what consent there is to it, it is altogether to be maintained,
that his posterity committed the same sin, both in number and in kind, in
asmuch as they are to be looked upon as consenting to it. For where there
is consent to a sin, there the same sin is commitfed. Seeing therefore that
Adam with all his posterity constitute but one moral person, and are united

perf.ct consistence with God's holiness and righteousness;
notwithstanding Adam had been guilty of no offence before.
So root and branches being one, according to God's wise
constitution, the case in fact is, that by virtue of this one
ness answerable changes or effects through all the branches
co-exist with the changes in the root : consequently an
evil disposition exists in the hearts of Adam's posterity,
equivalent to that which was exerted in his own heart,
when he eat the forbidden fruit. Which God has no hand
in, any otherwise, than in not exerting such an influence,
as might be effectual to prevent it ; as appears by what
was observed in the former chapter.f
But now the grand objection is against the reasonableness
of such a constitution, by which Adam and his posterity
should be looked upon as one, and dealt with accordingly,
in an affair of such infinite consequence; so that if Adam
sinned, they must necessarily be made sinners by his dis
obedience, and come into existence with the same depravitt/
of disposition, and be looked upon and treated as though
they were partakers with him in his act of sin. 1 have
not room here to rehearse all Dr. T.'s vehement exclama
tions against the reasonableness and justice of this. The
reader may at his leisure consult his book, and see them
in the places referred to below.J Whatever black colours
and frightful representations are employed on this occasion,
all may be summed up in this, Tnat Adam and his pos
terity are not one, but entirely distinct agents. But with
respect to this mighty outcry made against the reasonable
ness of any such constitution, by which God is supposed to
treat Adam and his posterity as one, I would make the
following observations.
I. It signifies nothing to exclaim against plain fact.
Such is the fact, the most evident and acknowledged fact,
with respect to the state of all mankind, without exception
of one individual among all the natural descendants of
Adam, as makes it apparent, that God actually deals with
Adam and his posterity as one, in reference to nis apostacy,
and its infinitely terrible consequences. It has been de
monstrated, and shewn to be in effect plainly acknow
ledged, that every individual of mankind comes into the
world in such circumstances, as (that there is no hope or
possibility of any other than their violating God's holy
law, (if they "ever live to act at all as moral agents,) and
being thereby justly exposed to eternal ruin.§ And God
either thus deals with mankind, because he looks upon
in the same covenant, and are transgressors of the same law, they are also
to be looked upon as having, in a moral estimation, committed the same
transgression of the law, both in number and in kind. Therefore this rea
soning avails nothing against the righteous imputation of the sin of Adam to
all mankind or to the whole moral person that is consenting to it. And for
the reason mentioned, we may ratherargue thus : the sin of the posterity,
on account of their consent, and the moral view in which they are to be
taken, is the same with the sin of Adam, not only in kind, but in number ;
therefore the sin of Adam is rightfully imputed to his posterity."— Id. Tom.
iv. cap. 16. §60,61.
The imputation of Adam's first sin consists in nothing else than this, that
his posterity are viewed as in the same place with their father, and are like
him. But seeing, agreeable to what we have already proved, God might,
according to bis own righteous judgment, which was founded on his most
righteous law, give Adam a posterity that were like himself; and indeed it
could not be otherwise, according to the very laws of nature; therefore he
might also in righteous judgment impute Adam's sin to them, inasmuch as to
give Adam a posterity like himself and to impute his sin to them, is one
and the same thing. And therefore if the former be not contrary to the di
vine perfections, so neither is the latter. Our adversaries contend with us
chiefly on this account, that according to our doctrine of original sin, such.
an imputation of the first sin is maintained, whereby God, without any
regard to universal native corruption, esteems all Adam's posterity as
guilty, and holds them as liable to condemnation, purely on account of that
sinful act of their first parent ; so that they without any respect had to their
own sin, and so, as innocent in themselves, are destined to eternal punish
ment.— I have therefore ever been careful to show, that they do injuri
ously suppose those things to be separated in our doctrine which are by no
means to be separated. The whole of the controversy they have with us
about this matter, evidently arises from this, that they suppose the mediate
and the immediate imputation are distinguished one from the other, not only
in the manner of conception, but in reality. And so indeed they consider
imputation only as immediate and abstractly from the mediate ; when yet
our divines suppose, that neither ought to be considered separately from the
other. Therefore I chose not to use any such distinction, or to suppose any
such thing, in what I have said on the subject ; but only have endeavoured
to explain the thing itself, and to reconcile' it with the divine attributes. And
therefore I have every where conjoined both these conceptions concerning
the imputation of the first sin, as inseparable ; and judged, that one ought
never to be considered without the other.— While I have been writing this
note, I consulted all the systems of divinity, which 1 have by me. that I
might see what was the true and genuine opinion of our chief divines in
this affair; and I found that they were of the same mind with me; namely.
that these two kinds of imputation are by no means to be separated, or to
be considered abstractly one from the other, but that one does involve the
other." He there particularly cites those two famous reformed divines,
Vitringa and Lampius. Tom. iv. cap. 17. § 78.
t See also p. 39. note, § 8, &c. 4S.§ 12, &c. S». § 9, &c. 82. § 17. &c. 121
§7, &c. I Page 13. 150. 151, 156,261. 108, 109,111 S.
§ Part I. Chap. I. the three first Sections.

222

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

them as one with their first father, and so treats them as
sinful and guilty by his apostacy ; or (which will not mend
the matter) he, without viewing them as at all concerned in
that affair, but as in every respect perfectly innocent, sub
jects them nevertheless to this infinitely dreadful calamity.
Adam by his sin was exposed to the calamities and sorrows
of this life, to temporal death and eternal ruin ; as is con
fessed. And it is also in effect confessed, that all his pos
terity come into the world in such a state, as that the cer
tain consequence is their being exposed, and justly so, to
the sorrows of this life, to temporal death, and eternal ruin,
unless save_ by grace. So that we see, God in fact deals
with them together, or as one. If God orders the conse
quences of Adam's sin, with regard to his posterity's wel
fare — even in those things which are most important, and
which in the highest degree concern their eternal interest —
to be the same with the consequences to Adam himself,
then he treats Adam and his posterity as one in that affair.
Hence, however the matter be attended with difficulty, fact
obliges us to get over it, either by finding out some solu
tion, or by shutting our mouths, and acknowledging the
weakness and scantiness of our understandings; as we
must in other innumerable cases, where apparent and un-
deniable./ac., in God's works of creation and providence,
is attended with events and circumstances, the manner and
reason of which are difficult to our understandings. — But
to proceed.
II. We will consider the difficulties themselves, insisted
on in the objections of our opposers. They may be re
duced to these two : First, That such a constitution is in
jurious to Adam's posterity. Secondly, That it is altoge
ther improper, as it implies falsehood, viewing and treating
those as one, which indeed are not one, but entirely dis
tinct. First difficulty, That appointing Adam to stand, in this
great affairj as the moral head of his posterity, and so treat
ing them as one with him, as standing or falling with him,
is injurious to them. To which I answer, it is demonstrably
otherwise ; that such a constitution was so far from being
injurious to Adam's posterity, any more than if every one
had been appointed to stand for himself personally, that it
was, in itself considered, attended with a more eligible
probability of a happy issue than the latter would have
been : and so a constitution that truly expresses the goodness
of its Author. For,
1. It is reasonable to suppose, that Adam was as likely,
on account of his capacity and natural talents, to persevere
in obedience, as his posterity, (taking one with another,) if
they had all been put on the trial singly for themselves.
And supposing that there; was a constituted union or one
ness of him and his posterity, and that he stood as a
public person, or common head, all by this constitution
would have been as sure to partake of the benefit of his
obedience, as of the ill consequence of his disobedience, in
case of his fall.
2. There was a greater tendency to a happy issue, in
such an appointment, than if every one had been appointed
to stand for himself; especially on two accounts. (1.) That
Adam had stronger motives to watchfulness than his posterity
would have had ; in that not only his own eternal wel
fare lay at stake, but also that of all his posterity : (2.)
Adam was in a state of complete manhood, when his trial
began. It was a constitution very agreeable to the goodness
of God, considering the state of mankind, which was to be
propagated in the way of generation, that their first father
should be appointed to stand for all. For by reason of the
manner of their coming into existence in a state of infancy,
and their coming so gradually to mature state, and so re
maining for a great while in a state of childhood and com
parative imperfection, after they were become moral agents,
they would be less fit to stand for themselves, than their
first father to stand for them.
If any man, notwithstanding these things, shall say, that
for his own part, if the affair had been proposed to him, he
should have chosen to have had his eternal interest trusted
in his own hands : it is sufficient to answer, that no man's
vain opinion of himself, as more fit to be trusted than
others, alters the true nature arid tendency of things, as
they demonstrably are in themselves. Nor is it a just ob
jection, that this constitution has! in event proved for the

hurt of mankind. For it does not follow, that no advan
tage was given for a happy event, in such an establishment,
because it was not such as to make it utterly impossible
there should be any other event.
3. The goodness of God in such a constitution with
Adam appears in this : that if there had been no sovereign
gracious establishment at all, but God had proceeded only
on the basis of mere justice, and had gone no further than
this required, he might have demanded of Adam and all
his posterity, that they should perform perfect perpetual
obedience, without ever failing in the least instance, on pain
of eternal death ; and might have made this demand with
out the promise of any positive reward for their obedience.
For perfect obedience is a debt, that every one owes to his
Creator ; and therefore is what his Creator was not obliged
to pay him for. None is obliged to pay his debtor for dis
charging his just debt. — But such was evidently the con
stitution with Adam, that an eternal happy life was to be
the consequence of his persevering fidelity, to all such as
were included within that constitution, (of which the tree
of life was a sign,) as well as eternal death to be the con
sequence of his disobedience. — I come now to consider
the Second difficulty  It being thus manifest, that this con
stitution, by which Adam and his posterity are dealt with
as one, is not unreasonable on account of its being injuri
ous and hurtful to the interest of mankind, the only thing
remaining in the objection, against such a constitution, is
the impropriety of it, as implying fahehood, and contra
diction to the true nature of things ; as hereby they are
viewed and treated as one, who are not one, but wholly
distinct ; and no arbitrary constitution can ever make that
to be true, which in itself considered is not true.
This objection, however specious, is really founded on a
false hypothesis, and wrong notion of what we call same
ness or oneness, among created things ; and the seeming
force of the objection arises from ignorance or inconsider-
ation of the degree, in which created identity or oneness
with past existence, in general, depends on the sovereign
constitution and law of the supreme Author and Disposer
of the universe.
Some things are entirely distinct, and very diverse, which
yet are so united by the established law of the Creator,
that by virtue of that establishment, they are in a sense
one. Thus a tree, grown great, and a hundred years old,
is one plant with the little sprout, that first came out of the
ground from whence it grew, and has been continued in
constant succession ; though it is now so exceeding diverse,
many thousand times bigger, and of a very different form,
and perhaps not one atom the very same : yet God, ac
cording to an established law of nature, has in a constant
succession communicated to it many of the same qualities,
and most important properties, as if it were one. It has
been his pleasure, to constitute an union in these respects,
and for these purposes, naturally leading us to look upon all
as one. — So the body of man at forty years of age, is one
with the infant body which first came into the world, from
whence it grew ; though now constituted of different sub
stance, and the greater part of the substance probably
changed scores (if not hundreds) of times : and though it
be now in so many respects exceeding diverse, yet God,
according to the course of nature, which he has been
pleased to establish, has caused, that in a certain method
it should communicate with that infantile body, in the
same life, the same senses, the same features, and manv
the same qualities, and in union with the same soul ; and
so, with regard to these purposes, it is dealt with by him
as one body. Again, the body and soul of a man are one,
in a very different manner, and for different purposes.
Considered in themselves, they are exceeding different
beings, of a nature as diverse as can be conceived ; and
yet, by a very peculiar divine constitution, or law of nature,
which God has been pleased to establish, they are strongly
united, and become one, in most important respects ; a
wonderful mutual communication is established ; so that
both become different parts of the same man. But the
union and mutual communication they have, has existence,
and is entirely regulated and limited, according to the
sovereign pleasure of God, and the constitution he has been
pleased to establish.

Chap. III.

THE IMPUTATION OF ADAM'S SIN STATED.

223

And if we come even to the personal identity of created
intelligent beings, though this be not allowed to consist
wholly in what Mr. Locke supposes, i. e. Same conscious
ness ; yet I think it cannot be denied, that this is one thing
essential to it. But it is evident, that the communication
or continuance of the same consciousness and memory to
any subject, through successive parts of duration, depends
wholly on a divine establishment. There would be no
necessity, that the remembrance and ideas of what is past
should continue to exist, but by an arbitrary constitution
ofthe Creator. — If any should here insist, that there is no
need of having recourse to any such constitution, in order
to account for the continuance of the same consciousness ;
and should say, that the very nature of the soul is such as
will sufficiently account for it, its ideas and consciousness
being retained, according to the course of nature : then let
it be remembered, who it is that gives the soul this nature;
and let that be remembered, which Dr. T. says of the
course of nature, before observed ; denying, that the course
of nature is a proper active cause, which will work and go
on by itself without God, if he lets and permits it'; saying,
that the course of nature, separate from the agency of God,
is no cause, or nothing ; and affirming, that it is absolutely
impossible, the course of nature should continue itself, or go
on to operate by itself, any more than produce itself;* and
that God, the original of all being, is the only cause of
all natural effects.^ Here it is worthy also to be observed,
what Dr. Turnbull says of the laws of nature, as cited
from Sir Isaac Newton.J " It is the will of the mind
that is the first cause, that gives subsistence and efficacy
to all those laws, who is the efficient cause that produces
the phenomena, which appear in analogy, harmony, and
agreement, according to these laws." And, " the same
principles must take place in things pertaining to moral as
well as natural philosophy."!
From these things it will clearly follow, that identity of
consciousness depends wholly on a law of nature ; and so,
on the sovereign will and agency of God. And therefore,
that personal identity, and so the derivation of the pollu
tion and guilt of past sins in the same person, depends on
an arbitrary divine constitution ; and this, even though we
should allow the same consciousness not to be the only
thing which constitutes oneness of person, but should, be
sides that, suppose sameness of substance requisite. For,
if same consciousness be one thing necessary to personal
identity, and this depends on God s sovereign constitution,
it will still follow that personal identity depends on God's
sovereign constitution.
And with respect to the identity of created substance
itself, in the different moments of its duration, I think we
shall greatly mistake, if we imagine it to be like that abso-.
lute, independent identity of the first being, whereby he
is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Nay, on the
contrary, it may be demonstrated, that even this oneness of
created substance, existing at different times, is a merely
dependent identity ; dependent on the pleasure and sove
reign constitution of him who worketh all in alt. This
will follow from what is generally allowed, and is certainly
true, that God not only created all things, and gave them
being at first, but continually preserves them, and upholds
them in being. This being a matter of considerable im
portance, it may be worthy here to be considered with a
little attention. Let us inquire therefore, in the first place,
whether it be not evident, that God does continually, by
his immediate power, uphold every created substance in
being ; and then let us see the consequence.
That God does, by his immediate power, uphold every
created substance in being, will be manifest, if we consider
that their present existence is a dependent existence, and
therefore is an effect and must have some cause ; and the
cause must be one of these two ; either the antecedent
* Page 134. S. t Page 140. S. J Mor.PUl. p. 7. § Ibid. p. 9.
|| The Christian Observer, (vol. v. p. 177.) in reviewing a sermon, en
titled, " Predestination to Life," remarks : " It may be allowed, (though
even this is not to us in the sense formerly explained, a self-evident proposi
tion,) that all created nature, as such, tends to nihility. Since it sprung out
of nothing, only through the intervention of Almighty Power, it must cer
tainly relapse into nothing when the intervening power is removed. Since
it became something only during the pleasure of another, it will cease to be
something when left to itself. But it is not so apparent, why that which
never subsisted but in a state of virtue and purity, should of itself have a
tendency to subsist in any other state ; or why, when left to itself, if it con
tinue at all, it should not continue in that state in which it was left."— But, in

existence of the same substance, or else the power of the
Creator. But it cannot be the antecedent existence of the
same substance. For instance, the existence of the body
of the moon, at this present moment, cannot be the effect
of its existence at the last foregoing moment. For not only
was what existed the last moment, no active cause, but
wholly a passive thing ; but this also is to be considered,
that no cause can produce effects in a time and place in
which itself is not. It is plain, nothing can exert itself,
or operate, when and where it is not existing. But the
moon's past existence was neither where nor when its pre
sent existence is. In point of time, what is past entirely
ceases, when present existence begins ; otherwise it would
not be past. The past moment has ceased, and is gone,
when the present moment takes place ; and no more co
exists with it, than any other moment that had ceased,
twenty years ago. Nor could the past existence of the
particles of this moving body produce effects in any other-
place, than where it then was. But its existence at the
present moment, in every point of it, is in a different place,
from where its existence was at the last preceding moment.
From these things, I suppose, it will certainly follow, that
the present existence, either of this, or any other created
substance, cannot be an effect of its past existence. The
existences (so to speak) of an effect, or thing dependent, in
different parts of space or duration, though ever so near one
to another, do not at all co-exist one with the other ; and
therefore are as truly different effects, as if those parts of
space and duration were ever so far asunder. And tne prior
existence can no more be the proper cause of the new ex
istence, in the next moment, or next part of space, than if
it had been in an age before, or at a thousand miles' dis
tance, without any existence to fill up the intermediate time
or space. Therefore the existence of created substances, in
each successive moment, must be the effect of the imme
diate agency, will, and power of God.
If any shall insist upon it, that their present existence is
the effect or consequence of past existence, according to the
nature of things ; that the established course of nature is
sufficient to continue existence once given ; I allow it. But
then it should be remembered, what nature is in created
things ; and what the established course of nature is ; that,
as has been observed already, it is nothing, separate from
the agency of God; and that, as Dr. T. says, God, the
original of all being, is the only came of all natural effects.
A father,' according to the course of nature, begets a child;
an oak, according to the course of nature, produces an
acorn, or a bud ; so according to the course of nature, the
former existence of the trunk of the tree is followed by its
new or present existence. In one case, and the other, the
new effect is consequent on the former, only by the esta
blished laws and settled course of nature ; which is allowed
to be nothing but the continued immediate efficiency of
God, according to a constitution that he has been pleased to
establish. Therefore, according to what our author urges ;
as the child and the acorn which come into existence ac
cording to the course of nature, in consequence of the prior
existence and state of the parent and the oak, are truly im
mediately created by God ; so must the existence of each
created person and thing, at each moment, be from the
immediate continued creation of God. It will certainly
follow from these things, that God's preserving of created
things in being, is perfectly equivalent to a continued
creation, or to his creating those things out of nothing at
each moment of their existence. If the continued existence
of created things be wholly dependent on God's preserva
tion, then those things would drop into nothing upon the
ceasing of the present moment, without a new exertion of
the divine power to cause them to exist in the following
moment.|| If there be any who own, that God preserves
things in being, and yet hold that they would continue in
p. 186. he retracts what he first said, in the following very singular note :
" The preceding sheet was printed off beforewe perceived that we had ex
pressed ourselves at p. 177. col. 2. in language which maybe construed into
an admission ofthe truth ofthe doctrine maintained by Dr. Williams, as it
respects the necessary tendency of all created nature to nihility. In a popular
sense, indeed, it may perhaps be said, (though the proposition will be found
to fill the ear rather than the mind,") that what sprung out of nothing at the
mei '

respects the necessary tendency of all created nature to nihility. In a popular
ise, indeed, it mayperhaps be""' " '
o ii II the ear rather than the
pleasure of another, must agai
the sake of shortening the discussion, we were willing to concede thus much.

pleasure of another, must again become nothing when left to itself ; and, for

We must at the same time confess that we do not quite understands posi
tion, that created beings tend to nihility : and we leave it to our readers to
judge whether there be much more meaning in saying that ' what is tends

224

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

being without any further help from him, after they once
have existence; I think, it is hard to know what they
mean. To what purpose can it be, to talk of God pre
serving things in being, when there is no need of his pre
serving them ? Or to talk of their being dependent on
God for continued existence, when they would of them
selves continue to exist, without his help ; nay, though
he should wholly withdraw his sustaining power and in
fluence ?
It will follow from what has been observed, that GodTs
upholding of created substance, or causing of its exist
ence in each successive moment, is altogether equivalent
to an immediate production out of nothing, at each mo
ment. Because its existence at this moment is not mere
ly in part from God, but wholly from him ; and not in
any part, or degree, from its antecedent existence. For, to
suppose that its antecedent existence concurs with God in
efficiency, to produce some part of the effect, is attended
with all the very same absurdities, which have been shown
to attend the supposition of its producing it wholly.
Therefore the antecedent existence is nothing, as to any
proper influence or assistance in the affair : and conse
quently God produces the effect as much from nothing, as
if there had been nothing before. So that this effect differs
not at all from the first creation, but only circumstantially;
as, in the first creation there had been no such act and effect
of God's power before : whereas, his giving existence after
wards, follows preceding acts and effects ofthe same kind,
in an established order.
Now, in the next place, let us see how the consequence
of these things is to my present purpose. If the existence
of created substance, in each successive moment, be wholly
the effect of God's immediate power, in that moment,
without any dependence on prior existence, as much as
the first creation out of nothing, then what exists at this
moment, by this power, is a new effect ; and simply and
absolutely considered, not the same with any past exist
ence, though it be like it, and follows it according to a
certain established method.* And there is no identity or
oneness in the case, but what depends on the arbitrary
constitution of the Creator; who by his wise sovereign
establishment so unites these successive new effects, that
he treats them as one, by communicating to them like pro-
not to be,' than in saying that ' what is not tends to be ;' or, in other words,
whether a tendency to annihilation in that which exists, be at all more
conceivable, than a tendency to become existent in that which exists not"
How far the writer had any good reason for retracting what he first as
serted, and thereby opposing the sentiments, not only of the author he re
views, but of nearly all the divines that ever have written upon providence,
let the reader judge by a careful perusal of this chapter. We are ignorant
of what Bishop Burnet says on this head, (Art. 1. p. 30. 3d Ed.) but are
well satisfied his notion is as incapable of being supported by sound reason,
as it was novel ; and as little calculated to support the cause of piety as
any one opinion he advances, in his undecisive and latitudinarian expo
sition of the Thirty-nine Articles. (See particularly Art ix. on Original
Sin.) For what can be a more heterodox opinion, or more full of horrid
impiety, if traced to its just consequences, that the sentiment advanced by
that Bishop and by the Christian Observer! though we are far from
supposing that either tbe one or the other fo res aw those consequences. The
best excuse we can form for this writer is, that "he does not quite under
stand the position" against which he writes. This record, we believe, is
true ; and is equally applicable to several other positions in that article.
But then, the public expects from a Reviewer a comprehensive acquaint
ance with the subject which he criticises, instead of *' a wood of words"
and inconclusive declamations. However, he seems to be ?iotoriously de
ficient in comprehending the true state ofthe question. A great part of that
long article consists in proving what was not denied, and in disproving what
was never asserted ; with a goodly portion of contradictory propositions.
We might have expected, that an author who studiously shuns-ihe in
tricacies of a subject which will, in his apprehension, " descend to pos
terity with all its difficulties on its head" — a subject, the depth of which
" the sounding line of metaphysics will never fathom'''— would have kept
himself more free from embarrassments and self-contradictions. And it
was also to be expected from one who professes to advocate the cause of
piety and practical religion,* that he should keep aloof from the horrible
sentiment suggested by Burnet, in opposition to the almost unanimous ver
dict of all the pious and learned divines that ever lived. We almost shud
der to draw the inference demonstrably implied in the sentiment. — That
the world would continue in being, were there no God to uphold it ! When
we say, that this is the just inference drawn from the sentiment held by the
Christian Observer, we mean, by the individual Reviewer in question,
whose critique disgraces that excellent work.
Aware, perhaps, that the author whose works we now publish was of the
same way of thinking ; or at least, that his works have the same tendency
with what he opposes, he observes : " We are apt to think that the meta
physical cast which the celebrated Mr. Edwards gave to his writings in di
vinity, has to a certain degree produced an unfavourable effect on the minds
of his followers." It would have been extremely difficult for this writer to
point out any preacher who came closer to men's consciences, or any writer
who more effectually promotes the interest of genuine, humble, holy, prac
tical religion, than President Edwards ; and the editors of his works are
fully conscious, that what they publish tends, in the most direct manner,
when duly considered and understood, to essential truth — to God ; of
whom, ana through whom, and to whom are all thinas : to whom be glory
for ever. Amen. — W.

per ties, relations, and circumstances ; and so, leads us to
regard and treat them as one. When I call this an arbi
trary constitution, I mean, that it is a constitution which
depends on nothing but the divine will; which divine
will depends on nothing but the divine wisdom. In this
sense, the whole course of nature, with all that belongs to
it, all its laws and methods, constancy and regularity, con
tinuance and proceeding, is an arbitrary constitution. In
this sense, the continuance of the very being of the world
and all its parts, as well as the manner of continued being,
depends entirely on an arbitrary constitution. For it does
not at all necessarily follow, that because there was sound,
or light, or colour, or resistance, or gravity, or thought, or
consciousness, or any other dependent thing the last mo
ment, that therefore there shall be the like at the next. All
dependent existence whatsoever is in a constant flux, ever
passing and returning ; renewed every moment, as the
colours of bodies are every moment renewed by the light
that shines upon them ; and all is constantly proceeding
from God, as light from the sun. In him we live, and
move, and have our being.
Thus it appeal's, if we consider matters strictly, there is
no such thing as any identity or oneness in created ob
jects, existing at different times, but what depends on
God's sovereign constitution. And so it appears, that the
objection we are upon, made against a supposed divine
constitution, whereby Adam and his posterity are viewed
and treated as one, in the manner and for the purposes
supposed — as if it were not consistent with truth, because
no constitution can make those to be one, which are not
one — is built on a false hypothesis : for it appears, that a
divine constitution is what makes truth, in affairs of this
nature. The objection supposes, there is a oneness in
created beings, whence qualities and relations are derived
down from past existence, distinct from, and prior to, any
oneness that can be supposed to be founded on divine
constitution. Which is demonstrably false ; and suffi
ciently appears so from things conceded by the adversaries
themselves : and therefore the objection wholly falls to the
ground. There are various kinds of identity and oneness, found
among created things, by which they become one in dif
ferent manners, respects, and degrees, and to various pv.r-
* When I suppose,' that an effect which is produced every moment by' a
new action or exertion of power, must be a new effect in each moment, and
not absolutely and numerically the same with that wbich existed in pre
ceding moments, what I intend, may be illustrated by this example. The
lucid colour or brightness of the moon, as we look stedfastly upon it, seems
to be a permanent thing, as though it were perfectly the same brightness
continued. But indeed it is an effect produced every moment It ceases,
and is renewed, in each successive point of time ; and so becomes altoge
ther a new effect at each instant ; and no one thing that belongs to it, is nu
merically the same that existed in the preceding moment. Tne rays of the
sun, impressed on that body, and reflected from it, which cause the effect,
are none of them the same : the impression, made in each moment on our
sensory, is by the stroke of new rays : and the sensation excited by the
stroke, is a new effect, an effect of a new impulse. Therefore the bright
ness or lucid whiteness of this body is no more numerically the same thing
with that which existed in tbe preceding moment, than the sound of the
wind that blows now, is individually the same with the sound of the wind
that blew just before ; which, though it be like it, is not the same, any more
than the agitated air, that makes the sound, is the same ; or than the toater,
flowing in a river, that now passes by, is individually the same with that
wbich passed a httle before. And if it be thus with the brightness or co
lour of the moon, so it must be with its solidity, and every thing else be
longing to its substance, if all be, each moment, as much the immediate
effect of a new exertion or application of power.
Tbe matter may perhaps be in some respects still more clearly illus
trated thus. — The images of things in a glass, as we keep our eye upon
them, seem to remain precisely the same, with a continuing perfect iden
tity. But it is known to be otherwise. Philosophers well know, that these
images are constantly renewed, by the impression and reflection of new
rays of light; so that the image impressed by the former rays is constantly
vanishing, and a new image impressed by new rays every moment, both on
the glass and on the eye. The image constantly renewed, by new succes
sive rays, is no more numerically the same, than if it were by some artist
put on anew with a pencil, and the colours constantly vanishing as fast as
put on. And the new images being put on immediately or instantly, do not
make them the same, any more than if it were done with the intermission
of an hour or a day. The image that exists this moment, is not at all de
rived from the image which existed the last preceding moment : for, if the
succession of new rays be intercepted, by something interposed between the
object and the glass, the image immediately ceases ; the past existence of
the image has no influence to uphold it, so much as for one moment Which
shows, that the image is altogether new-made every moment ; and strictly
speaking, is in no part numerically the same with that which existed the
momentpreceding. And truly so the matter must be with the bodies them
selves, as well as their images : they also cannot be the same, with au ab
solute identity, but must be wholly renewed every moment, if the case be
as has been proved, that their present existence is not, strictly speaking, at
all the effect of their past existence ; but is wholly, every instant, the effect
of a new agency, or exertion of the powerful cause of their existence. If so,
the existence caused is every instant a new effect, whether the cause be
light, or immediate divine power, or whatever it be

Chap. III.

THE IMPUTATION OF ADAM'S SIN STATED.

225

poses ; several of which differences have been observed ;
and every kind is ordered, regulated, and limited, in every
respect, by divine constitution. Some things, existing in
different times and places, are treated by their Creator as
one in one respect, and others in another ; some are united
for this communication, and others for that ; but all accord
ing to the sovereign pleasure of the fountain of all being
and operation.
It appears, particularly, from what has been said, that
all oneness, by virtue whereof poltut ion and guilt from past
wickedness are derived, depends entirely on a divine esta
blishment. It is this, and this only, that must account for
guilt and an evil taint on any individual soul, in conse
quence of a crime committed twenty or forty years ago,
remaining still, and even to the end of the world, and for
ever. It is this that must account for the continuance of
any such thing, and where, as consciousness of acts that are
East ; and for the continuance of all habits, either good or
ad : and on this depends every thing that can belong to
personal identity. And all communications, derivations,
or continuation of qualities, properties, or relations, natural
or moral, from what is past, as if the subject were one, de
pends on no other foundation.
And I am persuaded, that no solid reason can be given,
why God — who constitutes all other created union or
oneness according to his pleasure, and for what purposes,
communications, and effects he pleases — may not esta
blish a constitution whereby the natural posterity of Adam,
proceeding from him, much as the buds and branches from
the stock or root of a tree, should be treated as ime with
him, for the derivation, either of righteousness, and com
munion in rewards, or of the loss of righteousness, and
consequent corruption and guilt.*
As I said before, all oneness in created things, whence
qualities and relations are derived, depends on a divine
constitution that is arbitrary, in every other respect, ex
cepting that it is regulated by divine wisdom. The wis
dom which is exercised in these constitutions, appears in
these two things. First, in a beautiful analogy and
harmony with other laws or constitutions, especially, Te-
lating to the same subject ; and secondly, in the good ends
obtained, or useful consequences of such a constitution. If
therefore there be any objection still lying against this
constitution with Adam and his posterity, it must be, that
it is not sufficiently wise in these respects. But what
extreme arrogance would it be in us, to take upon us to
act as judges of the beauty and wisdom of the laws and
established constitutions of the supreme Lord and Creator
of the universe ! And not only so, but if this constitution,
in particular, be well considered, its wisdom, in the two
forementioned respects, may easily be made evident.
There is an apparent manifold analogy to other constitu
tions and laws, established and maintained through the
whole system of vital nature in this lower world ; all parts
of which, in all successions, are derived from the first of
the kind, as from their root, or fountain ; each deriving
from thence all properties and qualities, that are proper to
the nature and capacity of the species : no derivative
having any one perfection, unless it be what is merely cir
cumstantial, butwhatwas in itsprimitive. And that Adam's
posterity should be without that original righteousness,
which Adam had lost, is also analogous to other laws
and establishments, relating to the nature of mankind;
according to which, Adam s posterity have no one per
fection of nature, in any kind, superior to what was in
him, when the human race began to be propagated from
him. And as such a constitution was fit and wise in other
* I appeal to such as are not wont to content themselves with judging by
a superficial appearance and view of things, but are habituated to examine
things strictly and closely, that they may judge righteous judgment, whether
on supposition that all mankind had co-existed, in the manner mentioned
before, any good reason can be given, why their Creator might not, if he
had pleased, have established such an union between Adam and the rest
of mankind, as was in that case supposed. Particularly, if it had been the
case, that Adam's posterity had actually, according to the law of nature,
some how grown out of him, and yet remained contiguous and literally
united to him, as the branches to a tree, or the members of the body to the
head ; and had all, before the fall, existed together at the same time,
though in different places, as the head and members are in different
places : in this case who can determine, that the Author of nature might not,
if it had pleased him, have established such an union between the root and
branches of this complex being, as that all should constitute one moral
whole ; so that by the law of union, there should be a communion in each
VOL. 1. Q

respects, so it was in this that follows. Seeing the divine
constitution concerning the manner of mankind coming
into existence, was such as did so naturally unite them,
and make them in so many respects one, naturally leading
them to a close union in society, and manifold intercourse,
and mutual dependence — things were wisely so esta
blished, that all should naturally be in one and the same.
moral state ; and not in such exceeding different states, as
that some should be perfectly innocent and holy, but others
corrupt and wicked ; some needing a Saviour, but others
needing none ; some in a confirmed state of perfect happi
ness, but others in a state of public condemnation to per
fect and eternal misery ; some justly exposed to great
calamities in this world, but others by their innocence
raised above all suffering. Such a vast diversity of state
would by no means have agreed with the natural and neces
sary constitution and unavoidable situation and circum
stances of the world of mankind ; all made of one blood, to
dwell mi all the face of the earth, to be united and blended
in society, and to partake together in the natural and com
mon goods and evils of this lower world.
Dr. T. urges,f that sorrow and shame are only for per
sonal sin ; and it has often been urged, that repentance can
be for no other sin. To which I would say, that the use
of words is very arbitrary : but that men's hearts should be
deeply affected with grief and humiliation before God, for
the pollution and guilt which they bring into the world
with them, I think, is not in the least unreasonable. Nor is
it a thing strange and unheard of, that men should be
ashamed of things done by others, in whom they are nearly
concerned. I am sure, it is not unscriptural ; especially
when they are justly looked upon in the sight of God, who
sees the disposition of their hearts, as fully consenting and
concurring. From what has been observed it may appear, there is
no sure ground to conclude, that it must be an absurd and
impossible thing, for the race of mankind truly to partake
of the sin of the first apostacy, so as that this, in reality
and propriety, shall become their sin ; by virtue of a real
union between the root and branches of mankind, (truly
and properly availing to such a consequence,) established
by the author of the whole system of the universe ; to
whose establishments are owing all propriety and reality
of union, in any part of that system ; and by virtue of the
full consent of the hearts of Adam's posterity to that first
apostacy. And therefore the sin of the apostacy is not
tneirs, merely because God imputes it to them ; but it is
truly and properly theirs, and on that ground God imputes
it to them.
By reason of the established union between Adam and
his posterity, the case is far otherwise between him and
them, than it is between distinct parts or individuals of
Adam's race ; betwixt whom is no such constituted union :
as, between children and other ancestors. Concerning
whom is apparently to be understood that place, Ezek.
xviii. 1 — 20.J Where God reproves the Jews for the use
they made of that proverb, " The fathers have eaten sour
grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge ;" and tells
them, that hereafter they shall no more have occasion to
use this proverb ; and that if a son sees the wickedness of
his father, and sincerely disapproves it and avoids it, and
he himself is righteous, he shall not die for the iniquity of
his father ; that all souk, both the soul of the father and the
son are his, and that therefore the son shall not bear the
iniquity of his father, nor thef other bear the iniquity ofthe
son ; bvt the soul that sinneth, it shall die ; that the right
eousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wicked
ness of the wicked shall be upon him. The thing denied, is
moral alteration, and that the heart of every branch should at the same
moment participate with the heart of the root, be conformed to it and con
curring with it in all its affections and acts, and so jointly partaking in its
state, as apart of the same thing? Why might not God, if he had pleased,
have fixed such a kind of union as this, an union of the various parts of such
a Miorat whole, as well as many other unions, which he has actually fixed,
according to his sovereign pleasure ? And if he might, by his sovereign
constitution, have established such an union of the various branches of man
kind, when existing in different places, I do not see why he might not also do
the same, though they exist in different times. I know not why succession ,
or diversity of lime, should make any such constituted union more unrea
sonable, than diversity of place. The only reason, why diversity of time
can seem to make it unreasonable, is that difference of time shows, there
is no absolute identity of the things existing in those different times : but it
shows this, I think, not at all more than the difference of the place of ex
istence. t Page 14. t Which Dr. T. alleges, p. 10, 11. S.

226

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

communion in the guilt and punishment of the sins of
others, that are distinct parts of Adam's race; and ex
pressly, in that case, where there is no consent and concur
rence, but a sincere disapprobation of the wickedness of
ancestors. It is declared, that children who are adult and
come to act for themselves, who are righteous, and do not
approve of, but sincerely condemn, the wickedness of their
fathers, shall not be punished for their disapproved and
avoided iniquities. The occasion of what is here said, as
well as the design and plain sense, shows, that nothing is
intended in the least degree inconsistent with what has been
supposed concerning Adam's posterity sinning and falling
in his apostacy. The occasion is, the people's murmuring
at God s methods under the Mosaic dispensation ; agree
able to that in Levit. xxvi. 39. " And they that are left of
you, shall pine away in their iniquity in their enemies' land,
and also in the iniquities of their fathers shall they pine
away with them :" and other parallel places, respecting
external judgments, which were the punishments most
plainly threatened, and chiefly insisted on, under that dis
pensation, (which was, as it were, an external and carnal
covenant,) and particularly the people suffering such terrible
judgments in Ezekiel's time, for the sins of Manasseh ;
according to what God says by Jeremiah, (Jer. xv. 4.) and
agreeable to what is said in that confession, Lam. v. 7.
" Our fathers have sinned and are not, and we have borne
their iniquities."
In what is said here, there is a special respect to the
gospel-dispensation ; as is greatly confirmed by comparing
mis place with Jer. xxxi. 29 — 31. Under which dispen
sation, the righteousness of God's dealings with mankind
would be more fully manifested, in the clear revelation
then to be made of the method of God's judgment, by
which the final state of wicked men is determined ; which
is not according to the behaviour of then' particular ances
tors ; but every one is dealt with according to the sin of
his own wicked heart, or sinful nature and practice. The
affair of derivation of the natural corruption of mankind
in general, and of their consent to, and participation of,
the primitive and common apostacy, is not in the least in
termeddled with, by any thing meant in the true scope
and design of this place in Ezckiel.
On the whole, if any do not like the philosophy or the
metaphysics (as some perhaps may choose to call it) made
use of in the foregoing reasonings ; yet I cannot doubt, but
that a proper consideration of what is apparent and unde
niable in fact, with respect to the dependence of the state
and course of things in the universe on the sovereign con
stitutions of the supreme Author and Lord of all — who
gives account to none of any of his matters, and whose ways
are past finding out — will be sufficient, with persons of
common modesty and sobriety, to stop their mouths from
making peremptory decisions against the justice of God,
respecting what is so plainly and fully taught in his holy
word, concerning the derivation of depravity and guilt
from Adam to his posterity.
This is enough, one would think, for ever to silence such
bold expressions as these — " If this he just, — if the Scrip
tures teach such doctrine, &c. then the Scriptures are of no
use — understanding is no understanding, — and, what a
God must he be, that can thus curse innocent creatures ! —
Is this thy God, O Christian.'" — &c. &c.
It may not be improper here to add something (by way
of supplement to this chapter, in which we have had' occa
sion to say so much about the imputation of Adam's sin)
concerning the opinions of two divines, of no inconsider
able note among the dissenters in England, relating to a
partial imputation of Adam's first sin.
One of them supposes, that this sin, though truly im
puted to infants, so that thereby they are exposed' to a
proper punishment, yet is not imputed to them in such a
degree, as that upon this account they should be liable to
eternal punishment, as Adam himself was, but only to
temporal death, or annihilation ; Adam himself, the imme
diate actor, being made infinitely more guilty by it, than
his posterity. On which I would observe ; that to sup
pose, God imputes not all the guilt of Adam's sin, but
only some little part of it, relieves nothing but one's
imagination. To think of poor little infants bearing such
torments for Adam's sin, as they sometimes do in this

world, and these torments ending in death and annihila
tion, may sit easier on the imagination, than to conceive of
their suffering eternal misery for it. But it does not at all
relieve one's reason. There is no rule of reason, that can
be supposed to lie against imputing a sin in the whole of
it, which was committed by one, to another who did not
Personally commit it, but what will also lie against its
eing so imputed and punished in part. For all the
reasons (if there be any) lie against the imputation ; not
the quantity or degree of what is imputed.- If there be
any rule of reason, that is strong and good, lying against
a proper derivation or communication of guilt, from one
that acted, to another that did not act ; then it lies against
all that is of this nature. The force of the reasons brought
against imputing Adam's sin to his posterity (if there be
any force in them) lies in this. That Adam and his pos
terity are not one. But this lies as properly against
charging a part of the guilt, as the whole. ..' For Adam's
Eosterity, by not being the same with him, had no more
and in a tittle of what was done, than the whole. They
were as absolutely free from being concerned in that act
partly, as they were wholly. And there is no reason to be
brought, why one man's sin cannot be justly reckoned to
another's account, who was not then in being, in the whole
of it; but what will as properly lie against its being
reckoned to him in any part, so as that he should be sub
ject to any condemnation or punishment on that account.
If those reasons are good, all the difference is this ; that to
bring a great punishment on infants for Adam's sin, is a
great act of injustice, and to bring a comparatively smaller
punishment, is a smaller act of injustice ; but not, that
this is not as truly and demonstrably an act of injustice, as
the other.
To illustrate this by an instance something parallel. It
is used as an argument why I may not exact from one of
my neighbours, what was due to me from another, that he
and my debtor are not the same ; and that their concerns,
interests, and properties are entirely distinct. Now if this
argument be good, it lies as truly against my demanding
from him apart of the debt, as the whole. Indeed it is a
greater act of injustice for me to take from him the whole
of it, than a part ; but not more truly and certainly an act
of injustice.
The other divine thinks, there is truly an imputation of
Adam's sin, so that infants cannot be looked upon as inno
cent creatures ; yet seems to think it not agreeable to the
perfections of God, to make the state of infants in another
world worse than a state of non-existence. But this to me
appears plainly a giving up of that grand point of imputa
tion, both in whole and in part. For it supposes it to be
not right, for God to bring any evil on a child of Adam,
which is innocent as to personal sin, without paying for it,
or balancing it with good; so that still the state of the
child shall be as good as could be demanded injustice, in
case of mere innocence. Which plainly supposes, that the
child is not exposed to any proper punishment at all, or is
not at all in debt to divine justice, on account of Adam's
sin. For if the child were truly in debt, then surely
justice might take something from him, without paying for
it, or without giving that which makes its state as good, as
mere innocence could in justice require. If he owes the
suffering of some punishment, then there is no need that
justice should requite the infant for suffering that punish
ment ; or make up for it, by conferring some good, that
shall countervail it, and in effect remove and disannul it ;
so that, on the whole, good and evil shall be at even
balance, yea, so that the scale of good shall preponderate.
If it is unjust in a judge, to order any quantity of money
to be taken from another, without paying him again, and
fully making it up to him, it must be because he had justly
forfeited none at all.
It seems to me pretty manifest, that none can, in good
consistence with themselves, own a real imputation of the
guilt of Adam's first sin to his posterity, without owning
that they are justly treated as sinners, truly guilty, and
children of wr'uth, on that account ; nor unless they allow
a just imputation of the whole of the evil of that transgres
sion; at least, all that pertains to the essence of that act,
as a full and complete violation of the covenant, which
God had established; even as much as if each one of

Cbap. IV.

THE IMPUTATION OF ADAM'S SIN STATED.

mankind had the like covenant established with him
singly, and had by the like direct and full act of rebellion,
violated it for himself.

CHAP. IV.
WHEREIN SEVERAL OTHER OBJECTIONS ARE CONSIDERED.
Dr. T. objects against Adam's posterity being supposed
to come into the world under a forfeiture of God's bless
ing, and subject to his curse through, his sin, — That at the
restoration of the world after the flood, God pronounced
equivalent or greater blessings on Noah and his sons,
than he did on Adam at his creation, when he said, be
fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and have
dominion over the fish of the sea, tyc* — To this I answer,
in the following remarks.
1. As has been already shown, that in the threatening
denounced for Adam's sin, there was nothing which
appears inconsistent with the cont'muance of this present
life for a season, or with propagating his kind ; so for the
like reason, there appears nothing in that threatening, upon
the supposition that it reached Adam's posterity, incon
sistent with enjoying the temporal blessings of the present life,
as long as this is continued; even those temporal blessings
which God pronounced on Adam at his first creation. For
it must be observed, that the blessings which God pro
nounced on Adam when he created him, and before the
trial of his obedience, were not the same with the blessings
which were suspended on his obedience. The blessings thus
suspended, were the blessings' of eternal life ; which, if
he had maintained his integrity through his trial, would
have been pronounced upon him afterwards; when God,
as his judge, should have given him his reward. God
might indeed, if he had pleased, immediately have deprived
him of life, and of all temporal blessings, given him before.
But those blessings pronounced on him before-hand, were
not the things for the obtaining of which his trial was ap
pointed. These were reserved till the issue of his trial
should be seen, and then to be pronounced in the blessed
sentence, which would have been passed upon him by his
judge, when God came to decree to him his reward for his
approved fidelity. The pronouncing of these latter bless
ings on a degenerate race, that had fallen under the threat
ening denounced, would indeed (without a redemption)
have been inconsistent with the constitution which had
been established. But giving them the former kind of
blessings, which were not the things suspended on the
trial, or dependent on his fidelity, (and these to be conti
nued for a season,) was not at all inconsistent therewith.
2. It is no more an evidence of Adam's posterity being
not included in the threatening denounced for his eating
the forbidden fruit, That they still have the temporal
blessings of fruitfulness, and a dominion over the creatures,
continued to them ; than it is an evidence of Adam being
not included in that threatening himself, That he had these
blessings continued to him, was fruitful, and had dominion
over the creatures, after his fall, equally with his posterity.
3. There is good evidence, that the benedictions God
pronounced on Noah and his posterity, were granted on a
new foundation ; a dispensation diverse from any grant,
promise, or revelation, which God gave to Adam, antece
dently to his fall ; even on the foundation of the covenant
of grace, established in Christ Jesus ; a dispensation, the
design of which is to deliver men from the curse that came
upon them by Adam's sin, and to bring them to greater
blessings than ever he had. These blessings were pro
nounced on Noah and his seed, on the same foundation
whereon afterwards the blessing was pronounced on Abra
ham and his seed, which included both spiritual and
temporal benefits. — Noah had his name prophetically
given him by his father famech, because by him and his
seed deliverance should be obtained from the curse, which
came by Adam's fall. Gen. v. 29. "And he called his
name Noah, (i. e. rest,) saying, This same shall comfort us
concerning our work, and toil of our hands, because of the
* See page 82, &c. S.
t It may be noted, that Dr. T. himself signifies it as his mind, that these
Q 2

227
ground which the Lord hath cursed." Pursuant to the
scope and intent of this prophecy (which indeed seems to
respect the same thing with the' prophecy in Gen. iii. 15.)
are the blessings pronounced on Noah after the flood.
There is this evidence of these blessings being conveyed
through the channel of the covenant of grace, and by the
redemption through Jesus Christ, that they were obtained
by sacrifice ; or were bestowed as the effect of God's favour
to mankind, which was in consequence of smelling 'a sweet
savour in the sacrifice which Noah offered. And it is very
evident by the epistle to the Hebrews, that the ancient
sacrifices never obtained the favour of God, but only by
virtue of the relation they had to the sacrifice of Chri'it. —
Now that Noah and his family had been so wonderfully
saved from the wrath of God, which had destroyed the rest
of the world, and the world was as it were restored from a
ruined state, there was a proper occasion to point to the
great salvation to come by Christ : as it was a common
thing for God, on occasion of some great temporal salva
tion of his people, or restoration from a low and miserable
state, to renew the intimations of the great spiritual re
storation of the world by Christ's redemption, f God deals
with the generality of mankind, in their present state, far
differently, on occasion of the redemption by Jesus Christ,
from what he otherwise would do; for, being capable
subjects of saving mercy, they have a day of patience and
grace, and innumerable temporal blessings bestowed on
them; which, as the apostle signifies, (Acts xiv. 17.) are
testimonies of God's reconcilableness to sinful men, to
put them upon seeking after God.
But beside tht sense in which the posterity of Noah in
general partake of these blessings of dominion over the
creatures, &c. Noah himself, and all such of his posterity
as have obtained like precious faith with that exercised by
him in offering his sacrifice, which made it a sweet savour,
and by which it procured these blessings, have dominion
over the creatures, through Christ, in a more excellent
sense than Adam in innocency ; as they are made kings
and priests unto God, and reign with Christ, and all things
are theirs, by a covenant ot grace. They partake with
Christ in that dominion over the beasts of the earth, the
fowls of the air, and fishes of the sea, spoken of in the 8th
Psalm ; which is by the apostle interpreted of Christ's
dominion over the world, (1 Cor. xv. 27. and Heb. ii. 7.)
And the time is coming, when the greater part of the pos
terity of Noah, and each of his sons, shall partake of this
more honourable and excellent dominion over the creatures,
through him in whom all the families of the earth shall be
blessed. Neither is there any' need of supposing that these
blessings have their most complete accomplishment, till
many ages after they were granted, any more than the
blessing on Japhet, expressed in those words, God shall
enlarge Japhet, and he shall dwelt in the tents of Sliem.
But that Noah's posterity have such blessings given them
through the great Redeemer, who suspends and removes
the curse which came through Adam's sin, surely is no
argument, that they originally, as in their natural state, are
not under the curse. That men have blessings through
grace, is no evidence of their being not justly exposed to
the curse by nature ; but it rather argues the contrary. For
if they did not deserve the curse, they would not depend
on grace and redemption for the removal of it, and for
bringing them into a state of favour with God.
Another objection, which our author strenuously urges
against the doctrine of original sin, is, that it disparages the
divine goodness in giving us our being ; which we ought to
receive with thankfulness, as a great gift of God's benefi
cence, and look upon as the first, original, and fundamental
fruit ofthe divine liberality.].
To this I answer, in the following observations :
1 . This argument is built on the supposed truth of a
thing in dispute ; and so is a begging of the question. It
is built on this supposition, that we are not properly looked
upon as one with our first fattier, in the state wherein God
at first created him, and in his fall from that state. If we
are so, it becomes the whole race to acknowledge God's great
goodness to them, in the state wherein mankind was made
at first ; in the happy state they were then in, and the fair
blessings on Noah were on account of the covenant of (trace, p. 81, 90, 91,
92. S. J Page 256, 33!, 260. 71-74 S.

228

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

opportunity they then had of obtaining corifirmed and eter
nal happiness ; and to acknowledge it as an aggravation of
their apostacy ; and to humble themselves, that they were
so ungrateful as to rebel against their good Creator. Cer
tainly, we may all do this with as much reason, as the
people of Israel in Daniel's and Nehemiah's times who
did with thankfulness acknowledge God's great goodness
to their fathers, many ages before ; and in their confessions
they bewailed, and took shame to themselves, for the sins
committed by their fathers, notwithstanding such great
goodness. (See the 9th chapter of Daniel, and the 9th of
Nehemiah.) 2. If Dr. T. would imply in his objection, that it doth
not consist with the goodness of God, to give mankind be
ing in a state of misery, what ever was done before by
Adam, whether he sinned or did not sin. I reply, if it be
justly so ordered, that there should be a posterity of
Adam, which must be looked upon as one with him. ; then
it is no more contrary to God's attribute of goodness to
give being to his posterity in a state of punishment, than
to continue the being of the same wicked and guilty person,
who has made himself guilty, in a state of punishment.
The giving of being, and the continuing of being, are both
alike the work of God's power and will, and both are
alike fundamental to all blessings of man's present and
future existence. And if it be said, it cannot be justlv so
ordered, that there should be a posterity of Adam, which
should be looked upon as one with him, this is begging the
question. 3. If our author would have us to suppose, that it is
contrary to the attribute of goodness for God, in any case,
by an immediate act of his power, to cause evistence, and
to cause new existence, which shall be an exceeding
miserable existence, by reason of exposedness to eternal
ruin ; then his own scheme must be supposed contrary to
the attribute of God's goodness : for he supposes that God
will raise multitudes from the dead at the last day (which
will be giving new existence to their bodies, and to bodily
life and sense) in order only to their suffering eternal de
struction. 4. Notwithstanding we are so sinful and miserable, as we
are by nature, yet we mav have great reason to bless God,
that he has given us our being under so glorious a dispen
sation of grace through Jesus Christ ; by which we have
a happy opportunity to be delivered from this sin and
misery, and to obtain unspeakable eternal happiness. And
because, through our own wicked inclinations, we are dis
posed so to neglect and abuse this mercy, as to fail of
final benefit bv it, this is no reason why we ought not to
be thankful for it, even according to our author's own
sentiments. What (says he*) if the whole world lies in
wickedness, and few therefore shall be saved ? Have men
no reason to be thankful, because they are wicked and
ungrateful, and abuse their being and God's bounty ?
Suppose our own evil inclinations do withhold us, viz.
from seeking after happiness, of which under the light of
the gospel we are placed within the nearer and easier
reach, "suppose, the whole Christian world should lie in
wickedness, and but few Christians should be saved, is it
therefore certainly true, that we cannot reasonably thank
God for the gospel ? " Well, and though the enl inclina
tions, which hinder our seeking and obtaining happiness
by so glorious an advantage, are what we are born with,
yet if those inclinations are our fault or sin, that alters not
the case ; and to say, they are not our sin, is still begging
the question. Yea, it will follow from several things as
serted by our author, that notwithstanding men are born
in such circumstances, as that they are under a very great
improbability of ever becoming righteous, yet they may
have reason to be thankful for their being. Thus particu
larly, Dr. T. asserts, that all men have reason of thank
fulness for their being ; and yet he supposes, that the
heathen world, taken as a collective body, were dead in sin,
and could not deliver or help themselves, and therefore
stood in necessity of the christian dispensation. And not
only so, but he supposes, that the christian world is now
at length brought to the like deplorable and helpless cir
cumstances, and needs a new dispensation for its relief.
* Page 72, 73. S.

According to these things, the- world in general, not only
formerly but even at this day, are dead in sin, and helpless
as to their salvation ; and therefore the generality of them
that are born into it, are much more likely to perish, than
otherwise, till the new dispensation comes : and yet he
supposes, we all have reason to be thankful for our being.
Yea, further still, I think, according to our author's doc
trine, men may have great reason to be thankful to God
for bringing them into a state, which yet, as the case is, is
attended with misery, as its certain consequence. As, with
respect to God's raising-ihe wicked to life, at the last day ;
which, he supposes, is in itself a great benefit, procured
by Christ, and the wonderful grace of God through him :
and if it be the fruit of God's wonderful grace, surely
men ought to be thankful for that grace, and praise God
for it. Our doctrine of original sin, therefore, no more
disparages God's goodness in man's formation in the
womb, than his doctrine disparages God's goodness in their
resurrection from the grave.
Another argument, which Dr. T. makes use of, against
the doctrine of original sin, is what the Scripture reveals
of the process of the day of judgment ; which represents
the judge as dealing with men singly and separately,
rendering to every man according to his deeds, and ac
cording to the improvement he has made of the particular
powers and talents God has given him personally .f
But this objection will vanish, if we consider what is
the end or design of that public judgment. Now this will
not be, that God may find out what men are, or what
punishment or reward is proper for them, or in order to
the passing of a right judgment of these things within
himself, which is the end of human trials ; but it is to
manifest what men are to their own consciences, and to
the world. As the day of judgment is called the day of
the revelation of the righteous judgment of God; in order
to this, God will make use of evidences, or pronfs. But
the proper evidences of the wickedness of men's hearts
(the true seat of all wickedness) both as to corruption of
nature, and additional pollution and guilt, are men's works.
The special end of God's public judgment will be, to
make a proper, perfect, open distinction among men, rightly
to state and manifest their difference one from another, in
order to that separation and difference in the eternal retri
bution that is to follow : and this difference will be made
to appear, by their personal works.
There are two things, with regard to which men will be
tried, and openlv distinguished, by the perfect judgment of
God at the last day ; according to the twofold real distinc
tion subsisting among mankind: viz. (1.) The difference
of state ; that primary and grand distinction, whereby
all mankind are divided into two sorts, the righteous and
the wicked. (2.) That secondary distinction, whereby both
sorts differ from others in the same general state, in de
grees of additional fruits of righteousness and wicked
ness. Now the Judge, in order to manifest both these,
will judge men according to their personal works. ' But to
inquire at the day of judgment, whether Adam sinned or
no, or whether men are to be looked upon as one with
him, and so partakers in his sin, is what in no respect
tends to manifest either of these distinctions.
1. The first thing to be manifest, will be the state, that
each man is in, with respect to the grand distinction of the
whole world of mankind into righteous and wicked ; or,
in metaphorical language, wheat and tares ; or, the children
of the kingdom of Christ, and the children of the wicked
one ; the latter, the head of the apostacy ;" but the former,
the head of the restoration and recovery. The Judge, in
manifesting this, will prove men's hearts by their work*,
in such as have bad opportunity to perform any works in
the body. The evil works of the children of the wicked
one will be the proper manifestation and evidence or proof
of whatever belongs to the general state of such ; and
particularly they will prove, that they belong to the king
dom of the great deceiver, and bead of the apostacv, as
they will demonstrate the exceeding corruption of their
nature, and full consent of their hearts to the common
apostacy ; and also that their hearts never relinquished the
apostacy, by a cordial adherence to Christ, the great re-
Page 65, 66, 111. S.

Chap. IV.

OTHER OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.

229

storer. The Judge will also make use of the good works
of the righteous to show their interest in the redemption
of Christ ; as thereby will be manifested the sincerity of
their hearts in their acceptance of, and adherence to, the
Redeemer and his righteousness. And in thus proving the
state of men's hearts by their actions, the circumstances of
those actions must necessarily come into consideration, to
manifest the true quality of their actions ; as, each one's
talents, opportunities, advantages, light, motives, &c.
2. The other thing to be manifested, will be that secon
dary distinction, wherein particular persons, both righteous
and wicked, differ from one another, in the degree of
secondary good or evil ; the degree of evil fruit, which is
additional to the guilt and corruption of the whole body
of apostates and enemies ; and the degree of personal
goodness and good fisuit, which is a secondary goodness,
with respect to the righteousness and merits of Christ,
which belong to all by that sincere faith manifested in all.
Of this also each one's works, with their circumstances,
opportunities, talents, &c. will be the proper evidence.
As to the nature and aggravations of the general apostacy
by Adam's sin, and also the nature and sufficiency of the
redemption by Jesus Christ, the great restorer, though both
these will have vast influence on the eternal state, which
men shall be adjudged to, yet neither of them will properly
belong to the trial men will be the subjects of at that day,
in order to the manifestation of their state, wherein they
are distinguished one' from another. They will belong to
the business of that day no otherwise, than the manifes
tation of the great truths of religion in general ; as the
nature and perfections of God, the dependence of mankind
on God, as their creator and preserver, &c. Such truths
as these will also have great influence on the eternal state,
to which men will then be adjudged, as they aggravate
the guilt of man's wickedness, and must be considered in
order to a due estimate of Christ's righteousness, and
men's personal virtue ; yet being of general and equal
concernment, will not properly belong to the trial of par
ticular persons.
Another thing urged by our author particularly against
the imputation of Adam's sin, is this : " Though, in Scrip
ture, action is frequently said to be imputed, reckoned, ac
counted to a person, it is no other than his own act and
deed."* In the same place he cites a number of'places of
Scripture, where these words are used, which he says are
all that he can find in the Bible.
But we are no way concerned with this argument at
present, any further than it relates to imputation of sin, or
sinful action. Therefore all that is in the argument, which
relates to the present purpose, is this : that the word is so
often applied in Scripture to signify God's imputing of
personal sin, but never once to his imputing of Adam's
sin. — So often ! — How often ? — But twice. There are but
two of all those places which he reckons up, that have any
reference to God imputing sin to any person, where there is
any evidence that only personal sin is meant; (Levit. xvii.
3, 4. and 2 Tim. iv. 16.) All therefore that the argument
comes to, is this : that the word impute, is applied twice in
Scripture to the case of God imputing sin, and neither of
those times to signify the imputing of Adam's sin, but
both times it has reference to personal sin ; therefore
Adam's sin is not imputed to his posterity. And this is to
be noted, that one of these two places, even that in Levit.
xvii. 3, 4. does not speak of imputing the act committed,
but another not committed. The words are, "what man
soever there be of the house of Israel, that killeth an ox or
lamb or goat in the camp, or that killeth it out ofthe camp,
and bringeth it not unto the door of the tabernacle of the
congregation, to offer an offering unto the Lord, before the
tabernacle of the Lord, blood shall be imputed uuto that
man ; he hath shed blood ; that man shall be cut off from
among his people," i. e. plainly, murder shall be imputed
to him : he shall be put to death for it, and therein punish
ed with the same severity as if he had slain a man. It is
plain by Isa. lxvi. 3. that, in some cases, shedding the
blood of beasts, in an unlawful manner, was imputed to them,
as if they slew a man.
But whether it be so or not, although in both these
» Page 3, &c 105.

places the word impute, he applied to personal sin, and to
the very act, or although this could be said of ajl the places
which our author reckons up; yet that the word impute,
is never expressly applied to Adam's sin, does no more
argue, that it is not imputed to his posterity, than it argues,
that pride, unbelief, lying, theft, oppression, persecution,
fornication, adultery, sodomy, perjury, idolatry, and innu
merable other particular moral evils, are never imputed to
the persons that committed them, or in whom they are ;
because the word impute, though so often used in Scrip
ture, is never applied to any of these kinds of wickedness.
I know not what can be said here, except one of these
two things : that though these sins are not expressly said
to be imputed, yet other words are used that do as plainly
and certainly imply that they are imputed, as if it were said
so expressly. Very well, and so 1 say with respect to the
imputation of Adam's sin. The thing meant by the word
impute, may be as plainly and certainly expressed by using
other words, as if that word were expressly used ; and more
certainly, because the words used instead of it, may
amount to an explanation of this word. And this, I think,
is the very case here. Though the word, impute, is not~\
used with respect to Adam's sin, yet it is said, all have \
sinned ; which, respecting infants, can be true only of their /
sinning by his sin. And, it is said, by his disobedience
many were made sinners ; and, judgment and condemnation
came upon all. by that s'm ; and that by this means death,
the wages of sin, passed on all men, SfC. Which phrases
amount to full and precise explanations of the word, im
pute ; and therefore do more certainly determine the point
really insisted on.
Or, perhaps it will be said, with respect to those per
sonal sins before-mentioned, pride, unbelief, &c it is no
argument they are not imputed to those who are guilty of
them, that the verv word impute, is not applied to them ;
for the word itself is rarely used ; not one time in a hun
dred, and perhaps five hundred, of those wherein the thing
meant is plainly implied, or may be certainly inferred.
Well, and the same also may be applied likewise, with re
spect to Adam's sin.
It is probable, Dr. T. intends an argument against
original sin, by that which he says in opposition to what
R. R. suggests of children discovering the principles of
iniquity, and seeds of sin, before they are capable of moral
action,\ viz. That little children are made patterns of
humility, meekness, and innocence, (Matt, xviii. 3. 1 Cor.
xiv. 20. and Psal. cxxxi. 2.)
But when the utmost is made of this, there can be no
shadow of reason, to understand more by these texts, than
that little children are recommended as patterns in regard
of a negative virtue, innocence with respect to the exercises
and fruits of sin, harmlessmss as to the hurtful effects of
it ; and that image of meekness and humility arising from
this, in conjunction with a natural tenderness of mind, fear,
self-diffidence, yieldablenpss, and confidence in parents
and others older than themselves. And so, they are re
commended as patterns of virtue no more than doves, which
are an harmless sort of creatures, and have an image of the
virtues of meekness and love. Even according to Dr. T.'s
own doctrine, no more can be made of it than this : for his
scheme will not admit of any such thing as positive virtue,
or virtuous disposition, in infants ; he insisting (as was ob
served before) that virtue must be the fruit of thought and
reflection. But there can be no thought and reflection, that
produces positive virtue, in children not yet capable of
moral action ; and it is such children he speaks of. And
that little children have a negative virtue or innocence, in
relation to the positive acts and hurtful effects of vice, is no
argument that they have not a corrupt nature within them :
for let their nature be ever so corrupt, yet surely it is no
wonder that they be not guilty of positive wicked action,
before they are capable of any moral action at all. A
young viper has a malignant nature, though incapable of
doing a malignant action, and at present appearing a harm
less creature.
Another objection, which Dr. T. and some others offer
against this doctrine, is, That it pours contempt upon the
human nature.%

t Page 77, 78. S.

Page 74, 75, S.

230

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

But their declaiming on this topic is like addressing the
affections and conceits of children, rather than rational
arguing with men. It seems this doctrine is not complai
sant enough. I am sensible, it is not suited to the taste of
some, who are so very delicate (to say no worse) that they
can bear nothing but compliment and flattery. No con
tempt is by this doctrine cast upon the noble faculties and
capacities of man's nature, or the exalted business, and di
vine and immortal happiness, of which he is made capable.
And as to speaking ill of man's present moral state, I pre
sume, it will not be denied, that shame belongs to them
who are truly sinful ; and to suppose, that this is not the
native character of mankind, is still but meanly begging
the question. If we, as we come into the world, are truly
sinful, and consequently miserable, he acts but a friendly
part to us, who endeavours fully to discover and manifest
our disease. Whereas, on the contrary, he acts an un
friendly part, who to his utmost hides it from us : and so,
in effect, does what in him lies to prevent our seeking a
remedy from that, which if not remedied in time, must
bring us finally to shame and everlasting contempt, and end
in perfect and remediless destruction hereafter.
Another objection, which some have made against this
doctrine, much like the former, is, that it tends to beget in
us an ill opinion of our fellow-creatures, and so to promote
ill-nature and mutual hatred.
To which I would say, if it be truly so, that we all come
sinful into the world, then our heartily acknowledging it,
tends to promote humility : but our disowning that sin and
guilt which truly belongs to us, and endeavouring to per
suade ourselves that we are vastly better than in truth we
are, tends to a foolish self-exaltation and pride. And it is
manifest, by reason, experience, and the word of God, that
pride is the chief source of all the contention, mutual
hatred, and ill-will which are so prevalent in the world ;
and that nothing so effectually promotes the contrary tem
pers and deportments, as humility. This doctrine teaches
us to think no worse of others, than of ourselves : it teaches
us, that we are all, as we are by nature, companions in a
miserable helpless condition ; which under a revelation of
the divine mercy, tends to promote mutual compassion.
And nothing has a greater tendency to promote those
amiable dispositions of mercy, forbearance, long-suffering,
gentleness, and forgiveness, than a sense of our own ex
treme unworthiness and misery, and the infinite need we
have of the divine pity, forbearance, and forgiveness, toge
ther with a hope of obtaining mercy. If the doctrine
which teaches that mankind are corrupt by nature, tends
to promote ill-will, why should not Dr. T.'s doctrine tend
to it as much ? For he teaches us, that the generality of
mankind are very wicked, having made themselves so by
their own free choice, without any necessity : which is a
way of becoming wicked, that renders men truly worthy of
resentment ; but the other, not at all, even according to his
own doctrine.
Another exclamation against this doctrine is, that it tends
to hinder comfort and joy, and to promote melancholy and
gloominess of mind.*
To which I shall briefly say, doubtless, supposing men
are really become sinful, and so exposed to the displeasure
of God, by whatever means, if they once come to have their
eyes opened, and are not very stupid, the reflection on
their case will tend to make them sorrowful ; and it is fit
it should. Men, with whom this is the case, may well be
filled with sorrow, till they are sincerely willing to forsake
their sins, and turn to God. But there is nothing in this
doctrine, that in the least stands in the way of comfort and
exceeding joy, to such as find in their hearts a sincere
willingness wholly to forsake all sin, and give their hearts
and whole selves to Christ, and comply with the gospel-
method of salvation by him.
Another thing objected, is, that to make men believe that
wickedness belongs to their very nature, tends to encourage
them in sin, and plainly to lead them to all manner of
iniquity ; because they are taught, that sin is natural, and
therefore necessary and unavoidable. \
But if this doctrine, which teaches that sin is natural to
us, does also at the same time teach us, that it is never the

<* Page 231 , and some other places.
t Page 139, and 259.

better, or less to be condemned, for its being natural, then it
does not at all encourage sin, any more than Dr. T.'s doc
trine encourages wickedness when it is become inveterate ;
who teaches that such as by custom have contracted strong
habits of sin, are unable to help themselves.\ And is it
reasonable, to represent it as encouraging a man in boldly
neglecting and wilfully continuing in his disease, without
seeking a cure, to tell him of his disease, to show him that
it is real and very fatal, and what he can never cure him
self of; yet withal directing him to a great Physician, who
is sufficient for his restoration ? But for a more particular
answer to what is objected against the doctrine of our
natural impotence and inability, as being an encouragement
to go on in sin, and a discouragement to the use of all
means for our help, I must for brevity refer the reader to
what has been largely written on this head in my dis
course on the Freedom ofthe Will.
Our author is pleased to advance another notion, among
others, by way of objection against the doctrine of original
sin : that if this doctrine be true, it would be unlawful to
beget children. He says,§ " If natural generation be the
means of unavoidably conveying all sin and wickedness,
into the world, it must itself be a sinful and unlawful
thing." Now, if there be any force of argument here, it
lies in this proposition, whatsoever is a means or occasion
of the certain infallible existence of sin and wiclcedness,
must itself be sinful. But I imagine Dr. T. had not
thoroughly weighed this proposition, nor considered where
it would carry him. For, God continuing in being the
devil, and others that are finally given up to wickedness,
will be attended, most certainly and infallibly, with an
eternal series of the most hateful and horrid wickedness.
But will any be guilty of such vile blasphemy, as to say,
therefore God's upholding of them in being is itself a sin
ful thing? In the same place our author says, " so far as
we are generated in sin, it must be a sin to generate."
But there is no appearance of evidence in that position,
any more than in this : " So far as any is upheld in exist
ence in sin, it is a sin to uphold them in existence." Yea,
if there were any reason in the case, it would be strongest
in the latter position : for parents, as Dr. T. himself ob
serves, are not the authors of the beginning of existence :
whereas, God is truly the author of the continuance of
existence. As it is the known will of God, to continue
Satan and millions of others in being, though the most
sure consequence is the continuance of a vast infernal world,
full of everlasting hellish wickedness : so it is part of the
revealed will of God, that this world of mankind should
be continued, and the species propagated, for his own wise
and holy purposes ; which will is complied with by the
parents joined in lawful marriage. Their children, though
they come into the world in sin, yet are capable subjects
of eternal holiness and happiness : which infinite benefits
for their children, parents nave gi'eat reason to expect, in
the way of giving up their children to God in faith, through
a Redeemer, and bringing them up in the nurture and ad
monition of the Lord. I think, this may be answer enough
to such a cavil.
Another objection is, That the doctrine of original sin is
no oftener, and no more plainly, spoken of in Scripture ;
it being, if true, a very important doctrine. Dr. T. in
many parts of his book suggests to his readers, that there
are very few texts, in the whole Bible, wherein there is the
least appearance of their teaching any such doctrine.
Of this I took notice before, but would here say further :
That the reader who has perused the preceding defence of
this doctrine, must now be left to judge for himself, whe
ther there be any ground for such an allegation ; whether
there be not texts in sufficient number, both in the Old
Testament and New, that exhibit undeniable evidence of
this great article of christian divinity ; and whether it be
not a doctrine taught in the Scripture with great plainness.
I think, there are few, if any, doctrines of revelation, taught
more plainly and expressly. Indeed it is taught in an ex
plicit manner more in the New Testament than in the Old.
Which is not to be wondered at ; it being thus with re
spect to all the most important doctrines of revealed reli
gion. I See his exposition on Rom. vii. p. 205 —220. But especially in his pa
raphrase and notes on the epistle. § Page 145.

Chap. IV.

OTHER OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.

231

But if it had been so, that this doctrine were but rarely
taught in Scripture ; yet if we find that it is indeed declared
to us by God, if held forth to us by any word of his ; then
what belongs to us, is, to believe his word, and receive the
doctrine which he teaches us ; and not to prescribe to him
how often he shall speak of it, and to insist upon knowing
what reasons he has for speaking of it no o/fener, before vye
will receive what he teaches us ; or to pretend that he
should give us an account, why he did not speak of it so
plainly as we think he ought to have done, sooner than he
did. In this way of proceeding, if it be reasonable, the
.Sadducees of old, who denied any resurrection or future
state, might have maintained their cause against Christ,
when he blamed them for not knowing the Scriptures, nor
the power of God; and for not understanding by the
Scripture, that there would be a resurrection to spiritual
enjoyment, and not to animal life, and sensual gratifica
tions ; and they might have insisted, that these doctrines,
if true, were very important, and therefore ought to have
been spoken of in the Scriptures oftener and more expli
citly, and not that the church of God should be left, till
that time, with only a few obscure intimations of that
which so infinitely concerned them. And they might with
disdain have rejected Christ's argument, by way of inference
from God calling himself in the books of Moses, the God
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. For answer, they might
have said, that Moses was sent on purpose to teach the
people the mind and will of God ; and therefore, if these
doctrines were true, he ought in reason and in truth to have
taught them plainly and frequently, and not have left the
people to spell out so important a doctrine, only from
God's saying, that he was the God of Abraham, &c.
One great end of the Scripture is, to teach the world
what manner of being God is ; about which the world,
without revelation, has been so wofully in the dark : and
that God is an infinite being, is a doctrine of great import
ance, and a doctrine sufficiently taught in the Scripture.
But yet, it appears to me, this doctrine is not taught there,
in any measure, with such explicitness and precision, as the
doctrine of original sin : and the Socinians, who denied
God's omnipresence and omniscience, had as much room
left them for cavil, as the Pelagians who deny original sin.
Dr. T. particularly urges, that Christ says not one word
of this doctrine throughout the four Gospels ; which doc
trine, if true, being so important, and what so nearly con
cerned the great work of redemption, which he came to
work out, (as is supposed,) one would think, it should have
been emphatically spoken of in every page of the Gospels.*
In replv to this, it may be observed, that by the account
given in the four Gospels, Christ was continually saying,
those things which plainly implied, that all men in their
original state are sinful and miserable. As, when he de-
» Page 242, 243. t Matt. ix. 12. t Matt, xviii. 11. Lukexix. 10.
5 Matt, xviii. 3. || Luke xiii. 1—5. 1 Matt. vi. 12. Luke xi. 4.
*• Matt vi. 14, 15. and xviii. 35. tt Matt. vii. 11.
It Matt.xvi. 23. §§ Matt. x. 16, 17.
||l| John vii. 7. and viii. 23. and xiv. 17. and xv. 18, 19.
in Matt, xviii. 21, to the end.
«'*# What is found in the more ancient of the Jewish rabbles, who have
written since the coming of Christ, is an argument of this. Many things of
this sort are taken notice of by Stapferns, in his Theoloaia Polemica before
mentioned. Some of these things which are there cited by him in Latin, I
shall here faithfully give in English, for the sake ofthe English reader.
" — So Manasseh, concerning Human Frailty,p. 129.— Gen. viii. 21. Iwill
not any more curse the earth for man's sake ;for the appetite of man is
evil from his youth ; that is, from the time when he comes forth from his
mother's womb. For at the same time that he sucks the breasts, he follows
his ln:;f ; and while he is yet an infant, he is under the dominion of anger,
envy, hatred, and other vices to which that tender age is obnoxious," —
" Prov. xxii. 15. Solomon says. Foolishness is bound to the mind of a child."
Concerning which place R. Levi Ben Gersom observes thus, " Foolishness as
tt were grows to him in his very beginning." Concerning this sin, which is
common and original to all men, David said, Psal. li. 5. Behold I was begot
ten in iniquity, and in sin did my mother warm me. Upon which place
Eben-Ezra says thus: " Behold, because of the concupiscence which is in
nate in the heart of man, it is said, / am begotten in iniquity. And the
sense is, that there is implanted in the heart of man, jelzer harang, an evil
figment, from his nativity."
And Manasseh Ben Israel, de Fragil. pag. 2. " Behold, I was formed in
iniquity, and in sin hath my motlier warmed me. But whether this be
understood concerning the common mother, which was Eve, or whether
David spake only of his own mother, he would signify, that sin is as it were
natural, and inseparable in this life. For it is to be observed, that Eve
conceived after the transgression was committed : and as many as were be
gotten afterwards, were not brought forth in a conformity to the rule of
right reason, but in conformity to disorderly and lustful affections." He
adds, " One of the wise men of the Jews, namely, R. Aha, rightly observed,
David would signify that it is impossible, even for pious men who excel in
virtue, never to commit any sin." " Job also asserts the same thing with
David, chap. xiv. 4. saying. Who will give a clean thing for an unclean ?
Truly not one:' Concerning which words Aben-Ezra says thus: "The

clared, that they which are whole, need not a physician, but
they which are sick;\ That he came to seek audio save that
which was lost.\ That it was necessary for all to be bom
again, and to be converted, and that otherwise they could
not enter into the kingdom of heaven ;§ — and, that all were
sinners, as well as those whose blood Pilule mingled with
their sacrifices, &c. and that every one who did not repent,
should perish ;\\ — Withal directing everyone to pray to
God for forgiveness of sin ;1T — Using our necessity of for
giveness from God, as an argument with all to forgive the
injuries of their neighbours;** — Teaching, that earthly
parents, though kind to their children, are in themselves
evil;-\\ — And signifying, that things carnal and corrupt
are properly the things of men ; \\ — Warning his disciples
rather to beware of men, than of wild beasts ;§§ — Often re
presenting the world as evil, as wicked in its works, at
enmity with truth and holiness, and hating tera;|||| — Yea,
and teaching plainly, that all men are extremely and inex
pressibly sinful, owing ten thousand talents to their divine
creditor.HIT And whether Christ did not plainly teach Nicodemus the
doctrine of original total depravity, when he came to him
to know what his doctrine was, must be left to the reader
to judge, from what has been already observed on John iii.
1 — 11. And besides, Christ in the course of his preaching
took the most proper method to convince men of the cor
ruption of their nature, and to give them an effectual and
practical knowledge of it, in application to themselves in
particular, by teaching and urging the holy and strict law
of God, in its extent, and spirituality, and dreadful
threatenings : which, above all things, tends to search the
hearts of men, and to teach them their inbred exceeding
depravity ; not merely as a matter of speculation, but by
firoper conviction of conscience ; which is the only know-
edge of original sin, that can avail to prepare the mind for
receiving Christ's redemption ; as a man's sense of his
own sickness prepares him to apply in good earnest to the
physician. And as to Christ being no more frequent and particular
in mentioning and inculcating this point in a doctrinal
manner, it is probable, one reason to be given for it, is the
same that is to be given for his speaking no oftener of
God's creating ofthe world: which, though so important
a doctrine, is scarce ever spoken of in any of Christ's dis
courses ; and no wonder, seeing this was a matter which
the Jews, to whom he confined his personal ministry, had
all been instructed in from their forefathers, and never was
called in question among them. And there is a great deal
of reason, from the ancient Jewish writers, to suppose, that
the doctrine of original sin had ever been allowed in the
open profession of that people:*** though they were
generally, in that corrupt time, very far from a practical
sense is the same with that, I was begotten in iniquity, because man is
made out of an unclean thing." Stapferus, Theolog. Polem. torn. iii. p.
36, 37.
Id. Ibid. p. 132, & c. So Sal. Jarchi ad Gemaram, Cod. Schabbath, fol.
142. p. 2. " And this is not only to be referred to sinners ; because all the
posterity of lhe_frsr man are m like manner subjected to all the curses pro
nounced on him." And Manasseh Ben Israel, in his preface to Human
Frailty, says, " I had a mind to show by what means it came to pass, that
vthenihe first father of all had lost his righteousness, his posterity are be-
?otten liable to the same punishment with him." And Munsterus on the
lospel of Matthew cites the following words, from the book called The
Bundle of Myrrh : " The blessed Lord said to the first man, when he
cursed him. Thorns and thistles shallit bring forth to thee ; andthou shalt
eat the herb of the field. The thing which he means is, that because of Ai's
sin all who should descend from him, should be wicked and perverse, like
thorns and thistles, according to that word of the Lord, speaking to the
prophet : Thorns and irritators are with thee, and thou dwellest among
scorpions. And all this is from the serpent, who was the devil, Sammaet,
who emitted a mortiferous and corruptive poison into Eve, and became the
cause of death to Adam himself, when he eat the fruit" Remarkable is
the place quoted in Joseph de Voisin, against Martin Raymund, p. 471. of
Master Menachem Rakanatensis, sect. Bereschit, from 'Midrasch Tehil-
lim : which is cited by Hoorndekius, against the Jews, in these words : " It
is no wonder, that the sin of Adam and Eve is written and sealed with the
king's ring, and to he propagated to alt following generations ; because on
the' day that Adam was created, all things were finished; so that he stood
forth the perfection and completion ofthe whole workmanship of the world :
so when he sinned, the whole world sinned ; whose sin we bear and suffer.
But the matter is not thus with respect to the sins of his posterity." — Thus far
Stapferus. Besides these, as Ainsworth on Gen. viii. 21. observes, " In Bereshith
Rabba, a Hebrew commentary on this place, a rabbin is said to be asked.
When is the evil imagination put into man ? And he answered. From
the hour that he is formed." And in Pool's Synopsis it is added, from Gro-
tius, " So Rabbi Salomon interprets Gen. viii. 21. The imagination of
man's heart, is evil from his youth, of its being evil from the time that he
is taken out of his mother's bowels." Aben-Ezra thus interprets Psal. li.
5. " / was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me -; that
evil concupiscence is implanted in the heart from childhood, as if he were

232

ON ORIGINAL SIN.

Part IV.

conviction of it ; and many notions were then prevalent,
especially among the Pharisees, which were indeed incon
sistent with it. And though on account of these preju
dices they might need to have this doctrine explained and
applied to them, yet it is well known, by all acquainted
with their Bibles, that Christ, for wise reasons, spake more
sparingly and obscurely of several of the most important
doctrines of revealed religion, relating to the necessity,
groundr, nature, and way of his redemption, and the me
thod of the justification of sinners, while he lived here in
the flesh ; and left these doctrines to be more plainly and
fully opened and inculcated by the Holy Spirit after his
ascension. But if, after all, Christ did not speak of this doctrine
often enough to suit Dr. T. he might be asked, Why he
supposes Christ did no oftener and no more plainly teach
some of his, Dr. T.'s, doctrines, which he so much insists
on ? As, that temporal death comes on all mankind by
Adam ; and that it comes on them by him, not as a pun
ishment or calamity, but as a great favour, being made a
rich benefit, and a fruit of God's abundant grace, by
Christ's redemption, who came into the world as a second
Adam for this end. Surely, if this were so, it was of vast
importance, that it should be known to the church of God
in all ages, who saw death reigning over infants, as well
as others. If infants were indeed perfectly innocent, was
it not needful, that the design of that which was such a
melancholy and awful dispensation towards so many mil
lions of innocent creatures, should be known, in order to
prevent the worst thoughts of God from arising in the
minds of the constant spectators of so mysterious and
gloomy a dispensation ? But why then such a total si
lence about it, for four thousand years together, and not one
word of it in all the Old Testament ; nor one word of it in
all the fmir Gospels : and indeed not one word of it in the
xohole Bible, but only as forced and wrung out by Dr. T.'s
arts of criticism and deduction, against the plainest and
strongest evidence?
As to the arguments, made use of by many late writers,
from the universal moral sense, and the reasons they offer
from experience, and observation of the nature of man
kind, to show that we are born into the world with princi
ples of virtue ; with a natural prevailing relish, approba
tion, and love of righteousness, truth, and goodness, and
of whatever tends to the public welfare ; with a prevailing
natural disposition to dislike, to resent, and condemn what
is selfish, unjust, and immoral ; and a native bent in man-
Kind to mutual henevolence, tender compassion, &c. those
who have had such objections against the doctrine of ori-
formed in it ; and by my mother, he understands Eve, who did not bear
children till she had sinned. And so Kafvenaki says, How shall I avoid
sinning? My original is corrupt, and from thence are those sins. §a
Manasseh Ben Israel, from this place (Psal. li. 5.) concludes, that not only
David, but all mankind, ever since sin was introduced into the world, do
sin from their original. To this purpose is the answer of Rabbi Hakka-
dosch which there is an account of in the Talmud. From what time does
concupiscence rule over man ? From the very moment of his first form
ation, or from his nativity? Ans. From his formation. ,— Pool's Synops.
in Loc.
On these things I observe, there is the greatest reason to suppose, that
these old rabbies of the Jewish nation, who gave such heed to the tradi
tion ofthe elders, would never have reeei-ea this doctrine of original sin,
had it not been delivered down to them from their forefathers. For it is a
doctrine very disagreeable to those practical principles and notions, where
in the religion of the unbelieving Jews most fundamentally differs from the
religion maintained among Christians : particuiarly their notion of justifi
cation by their own righteousness, and privileges as the children of Abra
ham, & c. without standing in need of any satisfaction, by the sufferings of
the Messiah. On which account the modern Jews do now universally re
ject the doctrine of original sin, and corruption of nature ; as Stapferus ob
serves. And it is not at all likely, that the ancient Jews, if im such doctrine
had been received by tradition from the fathers would have taken it upf rom
the Christians, whom they had in such great contempt and enmity; espe
cially as it is a doctrine so peculiarly agreeable to the christian notion of
the spiritual salvation of Jesus, and so contrary to their carnal notions of
the Messiah, and of his salvation and kingdom, and so cbntrary to their
opinion of themselves ; and a doctrine, which men in general are so apt to
be prejudiced against And besides, these rabbies do expressly refer to the
opinion of their forefathers ; as R. Manasseh says, " according to the opi
nion of the ancients, none are subject to death, but those wbich have sin
ned; for where there is no sin, there is no death" Stapfer. torn. iii. p.
37,38. But we have more direct evidence, that the doctrine of original sin was
truly a received doctrine among the ancient Jews, even before the coming
of Christ This appears by ancient Jewish writings, which were written
before Christ ; as, m the apocrypha, 2 Esdras iii. 21. " For the first Adam,
bearing a wicked heart, transgressed, and was overcome ; and so be all
they that are born of him. Thus infirmity was made permanent ; and the
law also in the heart of the people, with the malignity of the root : so that
the good departed away, and the evil abode still."— 2 Esdras iv. 30. " For
the gTain of evil seed hath been sown in the heart of Adam, from the be
ginning; and how much ungodliness hath it brought up unto this time?

ginal sin thrown in their way, and desire to see them par
ticularly considered, 1 ask leave to refer them to a trea
tise on the nature of true virtue, lying by me prepared
for the press, which may ere long be exhibited to public
view.*

CONCLUSION.
On the whole, I observe, there are some other things,
besides arguments, in Dr. T.'s book, which are calculated
to influence the minds, and bias the judgment, of some
sorts of readers. Here, not to insist on the profession he
makes, in many places, of sincerity, humility, meekness,
modesty, charity, &c. in searching after truth ; and freely
proposing his thoughts, with the reasons of them, to others ;-(¦
nor on his magisterial assurance, appearing on many occa
sions, and the high contempt he sometimes expresses of the
opinions and arguments of very excellent divines and
fathers in the church of God, who have thought differently
from him J — both of which, it is not unlikely, may have a
degree of influence on some of his readers — I would take
some notice of another thing, observable in the writings of
Dr. T. and many of the late opposers of the more peculiar
doctrines of Christianity, tending (especially with juvenile
and unwary readers) not a little to abate the force, and pre
vent the due effect, of the clearest scripture-evidences in
favour of those important doctrines ; and particularly to
make void the arguments taken from the writings of the
apostle Paul, in which those doctrines are more plainly
and fully revealed, than in any other part of the Bible.
What I mean, is this : These gentlemen express a high
opinion of this apostle, and that very justly, for his eminent
genius, his admirable sagacity, strong powers of reasoning,
acquired learning, &c. They speak of him as a writer of
masterly address, of extensive reach, and deep design,
every where in his epistles, almost in every word he says.
This looks exceedingly specious : it carries a plausible ap
pearance of christian zeal and attachment to the Holy
Scriptures, to bear such a testimony of high veneration for
that great apostle, who was not only the principal instru
ment of propagating Christianity, but with his own hand
wrote so considerable a part of the New Testament. And
I am far from determining, with respect at least to some of
these writers, that they are not sincere in their declarations;
or, that all is mere artifice, only to make way for the recep
tion of their own peculiar sentiments. However, it tends
And how'much shall it yet bring forth, till the time of threshing shall come ?"
And chap. vii. 46. " It had been better, not to have given the earth unto
Adam ; or else, when it was given him, to have restrained him from sinning ;
for what profit is it, for men now in this present time, to live in heaviness, and
after death to look for punishment ? O thou Adam, what hast thou done ?
For though it was thou that sinned, thou art net fallen alone, but we ail
that come of thee." And we read, Eccl. xxv. 24. " Of the woman came
the beginning of sin, and through her we all die."
As this doctrine of original corruption was constantly maintained in the
church of God from the beginning ; so from thence, in all probability, as well
as from the evidence of it in universal experience, it was, that the wiser
heathens maintained the hke doctrine. Particularly Plato, that great phi
losopher, so distinguished for his veneration of ancient traditions, and dili
gent inquiries after them. Gale, in his Court ofthe Gentiles, observes as
follows : " Plato says, (Gore. fol. 493.) I have heard from the wise men,
that we are now dead, and that the body is but our sepulchre. And in his
Timacus Locrus (fol. 103.) he says, The cause ofvitiosity is from our pa
rents, and first principles, rather than from ourselves. So that we never
relinquish those actions, which lead us to follow these primitive blemishes
of our first parents. Plato mentions the corruption of the will, and seems
to disown any/ree will lo frwejjood; albeit he allows some evtpvta, or na
tural dispositions, to civil good, in some great heroes. Socrates asserted the
corruption of human nature, or kokov eutporov.— Grotius affirms, that the
philosophers acknowledged, it was con-natural to men to sin.
Seneca (Benef. 5. 14.) says, wickedness has not its first beginning in
wicked practice ; though by that it is first exercised and made manifest
And Plutarch (de sera vindicta) says man does not first become wicked
when he first manifests himself so: but he hathwickedness from the begin
ning ; and he shows it as soon as he finds opportunity and ability. As men
rightly judge, that the sting is not first engendered in scorpionswhen then
strike, or the poison in vipers when they bite. — Pool's Synopsis on Gen
viii. 21.
To which may be subjoined what Juvenal says,
—Admores natura recurrit.
Damnatos fixa el mutari nescia.
Englished thus, in prose ;
Nature, a thing fixed and not knowing how to change, returns to it-
wicked manners.  Watts, Ruin and Recovery.
* See Dissertation concerning the Nature of True Virtue, p r22
t See his Preface, and p. 6. 237. 265, 267, 175. S.
J Page 110, 125, 150, 15l, 159, 161, 183, 188. 77. S.

CONCLUSION.

233

ereatly to subserve such a purpose ; as much as if it were
designedly contrived, with the utmost subtilty, for that end.
Hereby their incautious readers are prepared the more
easily to be drawn into a belief, that they, and others in
their way of thinking, have not rightly understood many of
those things in this apostle's writings, which before seemed
very plain to them. Thus they are prepared, by a prepos
session in favour of these new writers, to entertain a
favourable thought of the interpretations put by them upon
the words and phrases of this apostle ; and to admit in
many passages a meaning which before lay entirely out of
sight ; quite foreign to all that in the view of a common
reader seems to be their obvious sense ; and most remote
from the expositions agreed in by those who used to be
esteemed the greatest divines, and best commentators. As
to this apostle, being a man of no vulgar understanding, it
is nothing strange if his meaning lies very deep ; and no
wonder then, if the superficial observation of vulgar Chris
tians, or indeed of the nerd of common divines, such as the
Westminster Assembly, &c. falls vastly short of the apostle's
reach, and frequently does not enter into the true spirit
and design of his epistles. They must understand, that
the first reformers, and indeed preachers and expositors in
general, for fifteen or sixteen hundred years past, were too
unlearned and short-sighted, to be capable of penetrating
into the sense, or fit to make comments on the writings, of
so great a man as this apostle ; or else had dwelt in a cave
of bigotry and superstition, too gloomy to allow them to
use their own understandings with freedom, in reading the
Scripture. But, at the same time, it must be understood,
that there is risen up now at length, in this happy age of
light and liberty, a set of men, of a more free and generous
turn of mind, of a more inquisitive genius, and of better
discernment. By such insinuations, they seek advantage
to their cause ; and thus the most unreasonable and extra
vagant interpretations of Scripture are palliated and recom
mended : so that, if the simple reader is not very much on
his guard, if he does not clearly see with his own eyes, or
has too much indolence, or too little leisure, thoroughly to

examine for himself, he is in danger of being imposed on
with delusive appearances.
But 1 humbly conceive, that their interpretations — par
ticularly of the apostle Paul's writings, though in some
things ingenious — are in many things extremely absurd,
and demonstrably disagreeable, in the highest degree, to his
real design, to the language he commonly uses?"and to the
doctrines currently taught in his epistles. Their criticisms,
when examined, appear far more subtile, than solid ; and
it seems as if nothing can possibly be strong enough, nothing
perspicuous enough, in any composure whatever, to stand
before such liberties as these writers indulge. The plainest
and most nervous discourse is analyzed and criticized, till
it either dissolves into nothing, or becomes a thing of little
significance. The Holy Scripture is subtilized into a mere
mist; or made to evaporate into a thin cloud, that easily
puts on any shape, and is moved in any direction, with a
puff of wind, just as the manager pleases. It is not in the
nature and power of language, to afford sufficient defence
against such an art, so abused ; as, I imagine, a due con
sideration of some things I have had occasion in the pre
ceding discourse to observe, may abundantly convince us.
But this, with the rest of what I have offered on the sub
ject, must be left with every candid reader's judgment ;
and the success of the whole must now be left with God,
who knows what is agreeable to his own mind, and is able
to make his own truths prevail ; however mysterious they
may seem to the poor, partial, narrow, and extremely im
perfect views of mortals, while looking through a cloudy
and delusory medium ; and however disagreeable they
may be to the innumerable prejudices of men's hearts : —
and who has promised, that the gospel of Christ, such as
is really his, shall finally be victorious ; and has assured us,
that the word which goes out of his mouth, shall not return
to him void, but shall accomplish that which he pleuseth, and
shall prosper in- the thing whereto he sends it. — Let God
arise, and plead his own cause, and glorify his own great
name. Amen.

TREATISE

CONCERNING
RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS:
IN THREE PARTS.
PART I. CONCERNING THE NATURE OF THE AFFECTIONS, AND THEIR IMPORTANCE
IN RELIGION.
PART II. SHOWING WHAT ARE NO CERTAIN SIGNS THAT RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS
ARE GRACIOUS, OR THAT THEY ARE NOT.
PART III. SHOWING WHAT ARE DISTINGUISHING SIGNS OF TRULY GRACIOUS AND
HOLY AFFECTIONS.
Lev. ix. ult. and x. 1, 2.— And there came a fire out from before the Lord, — upon the altar; — which when all the people saw, they shouted, and fell on
their faces. And Nadab and Abihu — offered strange fire before the Lord, which he commanded them not : and there went out fire .from the Lord,
and devoured them, and they died before the Lord.
Cant ii. 12, 13. — The flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig-tree
putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. — Ver. 15. Take us the foxes, the little foxes which spoil the vines:
for our vines have tender grapes.

PREFACE.
There is no question, of greater importance to mankind, and that it more concerns every individual person to be
well resolved in, than this : What are the distinguishing qualifications of those that are in favour with God, and entitled
to his eternal rewards? Or, which comes to the same thing, What is the nature of true religion? and wherein lie the.
distinguishing notes of that virtue which is acceptable in the sight of God? But though it be of such importance, and
though we have clear and abundant light in the word of God to direct us in this matter, yet there is no one point
wherein professing Christians differ more one from another. It would be endless to reckon up the variety of opinions,
in this point, that divide the Christian world ; making manifest .the truth of that declaration of our Saviour, " Strait is
thegate, and narrow is the way, that leads to life, and few there be that find it.
The consideration of these things has long engaged me to attend to this matter with the utmost diligence and care,
and all the exactness of search and inquiry of which I have been capable. It is a subject on which my mind has been
peculiarly intent, ever since I first entered on the study of divinity .—But as to the success of my inquiries, it must be left
to the judgment of the reader of the following treatise.
I am sensible it is difficult to judge impartially of the subject of this discourse, in the midst of the dust and smoke of
present controversy, about things of this nature. As it is more difficult to write impartially, so it is more difficult to
read impartially. — Many will probably be hurt, to find so much that appertains to religious affection here condemned :
and perhaps indignation and contempt will be excited in others, by finding so much justified and approved. And it
may be, some will be ready to charge me with inconsistence with myself, m so much approving some things, and so
much condemning others ; as I have found that this has always been objected to me by some, ever since tie beginning
of our late controversies about religion. It is a difficult thing to be a hearty zealous friend of what has been good and
glorious in the late extraordinary appearances, and to rejoice much in it ; and, at the same time, to see the evil and per
nicious tendency of what has been bad, and earnestly to oppose that. Yet, I am humbly hut fully persuaded, we shall
never be in the way of truth, a way acceptable to God, and tending to the advancement of Christ's kingdom, till we do
so. ¦ There is indeed something very mysterious in it, that so much good, and so much bad, should be mixed together
in the church of God: as it is a mysterious thing, and what has puzzled and amazed many a good Christian, that there
should be that which is so divine and precious, as the saving grace of God, dwelling in the same heart, with so much
corruption, hypocrisy, and iniquity, in a particular saint. Yet neither of these is more mysterious than real. And
neither of them is a new thing. It is no new thing, that much false religion should prevail, at a time of great revival ;
and that, at such a time, multitudes of hypocrites should spring up among true saints. It was so in that great reforma
tion, and revival of religion, in Josiah's time ; as appears by Jer. iii. 10. and iv. 3, 4. and also by the great apostacy there
was in the land, so soon after his reign. So it was in that great outpouring of the Spirit upon the Jews, in the days of
John the Baptist; as appears by the great apostacy of that people, so soon after so general an awakening, and the
temporary religious comforts and joys of many ; John v. 35. " Ye were willing for a season to rejoice in his fight." So
it was in those great commotions among the multitude, occasioned by the preaching of Jesus Christ. Of the many that
were then called, but few were chosen ; of the multitude that were roused and -fleeted by his preaching— and at one
time or other appeared mightily engaged, full of admiration of Christ, and elevated with joy— but few were true dis
ciples, that stood the shock of trials, and endured to the end. Many were like the stony or thorny ground; and but
few, comparatively, like the good ground. Of the whole heap that was gathered, great part was chaff, that the wind
afterwards drove away ; and the heap of wheat that was left, was comparatively small ; as appears abundantly by the
history of the New Testament. So it was in that great outpouring of the Spirit in the apostles' days ; as appears by
Matt. xxiv. 10—13. Gal. iii. 1. and iv. 11, 15. Phil. ii. 21. and iii. 18, 19. the two Epistles to the Corinthians, anil
many other parts of the New Testament. And so it was in the great reformation from popery. — It appears plainly to
have been in the visible church of God, in times of great revivals, as it is with the fruit-trees in the spring ; there" are

PREFACE. 235
multitudes of blossoms, which appear fair and beautiful, and there is a promising appearance of young fruits : but
many of them are of short continuance ; they soon fall off, and never come to maturity.
It is not, however, to be supposed, that it will always be so ; for, though there never will, in this world, be an entire
purity, either in particular saints, by a perfect freedom from mixture of corruption ; or in the church of God, without
any mixture of hypocrites with saints — or counterfeit religion and false appearances of grace with true religion and real
holiness — yet, it is evident, there will come a time of much greater purity in the church, than has been in ages past.*
And one great reason of it will be, that at that time, God will give much greater light to his people, to distinguish be
tween true religion and counterfeits ; Mai. iii. 3. " And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver : and he shall
purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer to the Lord an offering in righteous
ness. With ver. 18. which is a continuation of the prophecy of the same happy times, " Then shall ye return, and
discern between the righteous and the wicked ; between him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not."
It is by the mixture of counterfeit religion with true, not discerned and distinguished, that the devil has had his
greatest advantage against the cause and kingdom of Christ. It is plainly by this means, principally, that he has pre
vailed against all revivals of religion, since the first founding of the christian church. By this he hurt the cause of
Christianity, in and after the apostolic age, much more than Dy all the persecutions of both Jews and heathens. The
apostles, in all their epistles, show themselves much more concerned at the former mischief, than the latter. By this,
Satan prevailed against the reformation, begun by Luther, Zuinglius, &c. to put a stop to its progress, and bring it
into disgrace, ten times more than by all the bloody and cruel persecutions of the church of Rome. By this, prin
cipally, has he prevailed against revivals of religion in our nation. By this he prevailed against New England, to
quench the love and spoil the joy of her espousals, about a hundred years ago. And, I think, I have had oppor
tunity enough to see plainly, that by this the devil has prevailed against the late great revival of religion in New Eng
land, so happy and promising in its beginning. Here, most evidently, has been the main advantage Satan has had
against us ; by this he has foiled us. It is by this means that the daughter of Zion in this land now lies on the ground,
in such piteous circumstances, with her garments rent, her face disfigured, her nakedness exposed, her limbs broken,
and weltering in the blood of her own wounds, and in no wise able to arise ; and this, so quickly after her late great
joys and hopes : Lam. i. 17. " Zion spreadeth forth her hands, and there is none to comfort her : the Lord hath com
manded concerning Jacob, that his adversaries shall be round about him : Jerusalem is as a menstruous woman among
them." I have seen the devil prevail the same way, against two great revivals of religion in this country. — Satan goes
on with mankind as he began with them. He prevailed against our first parents, cast them out of paradise, and sud
denly brought all their happiness and glory to an end, by appearing to be a friend to their happy state, and pretending
to advance it to higher degrees. So the same cunning serpent that beguiled Eve through his subtilty, by perverting us
from the simplicity that is in Christ, hath suddenly prevailed to deprive us of that fair prospect we had, a little while
ago, of a kind of paradisiacal state of the church of God in New England.
After religion has revived in the church of God, and enemies appear, people that are engaged to defend its cause are
commonly most exposed, where they are least sensible of danger. While they are wholly intent upon the opposition
that appears openly before them, in order to make head against that, and while they neglect carefully to look around,
the devil comes behind them, and gives a fatal stab unseen ; and he has opportunity to give a more home stroke, and
to wound the deeper, because he strikes at his leisure, being obstructed by no resistance or guard.
And so it is likely ever to be in the church, whenever religion revives remarkably, till we have learned well to dis
tinguish between true and false religion, between saving affections and experiences, and those manifold fair shows, and
glistering appearances, by which they are counterfeited ; the consequences of which, when they are not distinguished,
are often inexpressibly dreadful. By this means, the devil gratifies himself, that multitudes should offer to God, under
the notion of acceptable service, what is indeed above all things abominable to him. By this means, he deceives great
multitudes about the state of their souls ; making them think they are something, when they are nothing ; and so
eternally undoes them : and not only so, but establishes many in a strong confidence of their eminent holiness, who,
in God s sight, are some of the vilest hypocrites. By this means, he many ways damps religion in the hearts of the
saints, obscures and deforms it by corrupt mixtures, causes their religious affections wofully to degenerate, and some
times, for a considerable time, to be like the manna that bred worms and stank ; and dreadfully insnares and confounds
the minds of others, brings them into great difficulties and temptations, and entangles them in a wilderness, out of
which they can by no means extricate themselves. By this means, Satan mightily encourages the hearts of open ene
mies, strengthens their hands, fills them with weapons, and makes strong their fortresses ; when at the same time,
religion and the church of God lie exposed to them, as a city without walls. By this means, he brings it to pass, that
men work wickedness under a notion of doing God service, and so sin without restraint, yea with earnest forwardness
and zeal, and with all their might. By this means, he brings in even the friends of religion, insensibly, to do the work
of enemies, by destroying religion in a far more effectual manner than open enemies can do, under a notion of advanc
ing it. By this means, the devil scatters the flock of Christ, and sets them one against another with great heat of spirit,
under a notion of zeal for God ; and religion, by degrees, degenerates into vain jangling. During the strife, Satan
leads both parties far out of the right way, driving each to great extremes, one on the right hand, and the other on the
left, according as he finds they are most inclined, or most easily moved and swayed, till the right path in the middle
is almost wholly neglected. In the midst of this confusion, the devil has great opportunity to advance his own interest,
to make it strong in ways innumerable, to get the government of all into his own hands, and to work his own will.
And by what is seen of the terrible consequences of this counterfeit, when not distinguished from true religion, God's
people in general have their minds unsettled in religion, and know not where to set their foot, or what to think, and
many are brought into doubts, whether there be any thing at all in religion ; and heresy, infidelity, and atheism greatly
prevail. Therefore, it greatly concerns us to use our utmost endeavours, clearly to discern, and have it well settled and estab
lished, wherein true religion does consist. Till this be done, it may be expected that great revivals of religion will be
but of short continuance ; till this be done, there is but little good to be expected of all our warm debates, in conver
sation and from the press, not knowing clearly and distinctly what we ought to contend for.
My design is to contribute my mite, and use my best (however feeble) endeavours to this end, in the ensuing trea
tise : wherein it must be noted, that it is somewhat diverse from the design of what I formerly published, which was
to show The distinguishing marks of a work of the Spirit of God, including both his common and saving operations.
What I aim at now, is to show the nature arid signs of the gracious operations of God's Spirit, by which they are to
be distinguished from all things whatsoever which are not of a saving nature. If I have succeeded in this my aim, in
any tolerable measure, I hope it will tend to promote the interest of religion. And whether I have succeeded" to bring
any light to this subject, or not, and however my attempt may be reproached, in these captious, censorious times, I hope
in the mercy of a gracious and righteous God, for the acceptance of the sincerity of my endeavours ; and hope also, for
the candour and prayers of the true followers of the meek and charitable Lamb of God.
* This appears plain by these texts of Scripture, Isa. Iii. I. Ezek. xliv. 6, 7, 9. Joel iii. 17. Zech. xiv. 21. Psal. lxix. 32, 35, 36. Isa. xxxv. 8, 10.
chap. iv. 3, 4. Ezek. xx. 38. Ps. xxxvii. 9, 10, 11, 29.

A TREATISE
CONCERNING RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

PART I.
CONCERNING THE NATURE OF THE AFFECTIONS AND THEIR IMPORTANCE IN RELIGION.
1 Peter i. 8.
Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable
and full of glory.

SECT. I.
Introductory remarks respecting the affections.
In these words, the apostle represents the state of the
Christians to whom he wrote, under persecutions. To
these persecutions he has respect, in the two preceding
verses, when he speaks of tlie trial of their faith, and of
their being in heaviness through manifold temptations.
Such trials are of threefold benefit to true religion.—
Hereby the truth, of it is manifested, it appears to be indeed
true religion. Trials, above all other things, have a tend
ency to distinguish true religion and false, and to cause
the difference between them evidently to appear. Hence
they are called by the name of trials, in the verse preceding
the text, and innumerable other places. They try the faith
and religion of professors, of what sort it is, as apparent
gold is tried in tne fire, and manifested, whether it be true
gold or not. And the faith of true Christians, being thus
tried and proved to be true, is found to praise, and honour,
and glory.
And then, these trials not only manifest the truth of true
religion, but they make its genuine beauty and amiableness
remarkably to appear. True virtue never appears so lovely,
as when it is most oppressed : and the divine excellency
of real Christianity is never exhibited with such advan
tage, as when under the greatest trials. Then it is that
true faith appears much more precious than gold; and
upon this account, is found to praise, and honour, and
glory. Again, another benefit of such trials to true religion, is
that they purify and increase it. They not only manifest
it to be true, but also tend to refine it, and deliver it from
those mixtures of what is false, which encumber and im
pede it ; that nothing may be left but that which is true.
They not only show the amiableness of true religion to the
best advantage, but they tend to increase its beauty by
establishing and confirming it; making it more lively and
vigorous, and purifying it from those things that obscured
its lustre and glory. As gold that is tried in the fire is
purged from its alloy, and all remainders of dross, and
comes forth more beautiful ; so true faith being tried as
gold is tried in the fire, becomes more precious ; and
thus also is found unto praise, and honour, and glory. The
apostle seems to have respect to each of these benefits in
the verse preceding the text.
And, in the text, the apostle observes how true religion
operated in these Christians under their persecutions,
whereby these benefits appeared in them ; or what manner
of operation it was, whereby their religion, under persecu
tion, was manifested to be true religion in its genuine
beauty and amiableness, and also appeared to be increased
and purified, and so was like to he found unto praise, and
honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ. And
there were two kinds of operation, or exercise of true re

ligion, in them, under sufferings, that the apostle takes no
tice of in the text, wherein these benefits appeared.
1. Love to Christ. Whom having not seen, ye love.
The world was ready to wonder, what strange principle it
was, that influenced them to expose themselves to so great
sufferings, to forsake the things that were seen, and re
nounce all that was dear and pleasant, which was the ob
ject of sense. They seemed to the men of the world as if
they were beside themselves, and to act as though they
hated themselves ; there was nothing in their view, that
could induce them thus to suffer, or to support them under
and carry them through such trials. But although there
was nothing that the world saw, or that the Christians
themselves ever saw with their bodily eyes, that thus in
fluenced and supported them, yet they had a supernatural
principle of love to something unseen ; they loved Jesus
Christ, for they saw him spiritually, whom the world saw
not, and whom they themselves had never seen with bodily
eyes. 2. Joy in Christ. Though their outward sufferings were
very grievous, yet their inward spiritual joys were greater
than their sufferings ; and these supported them, and
enabled them to suffer with cheerfulness.
There are two things which the apostle takes notice of
in the text concerning this joy. 1 . The manner in which
it rises, the way in which Christ, though unseen, is the
foundation of it, viz. by faith; which is the evidence. of
things not seen ; In whom, though now ye see him not, yet
believing, ye rejoice. 2. The nature of this joy ; un
speakable, arid full of glory. Unspeakable in the kind of
it ; very different from worldly joys, and carnal delights ;
of a vastly more pure, sublime, and heavenly nature, being
something supernatural, and truly divine, and so ineffably
excellent ! the sublimity and exquisite sweetness of which,
there were no words to set forth. Unspeakable also in
degree ; it having pleased God to give them this holy joy
with a liberal hand, in their state of persecution.
Their joy was full of glory. Although the joy was un
speakable, and no words were sufficient to describe it ; yet
something might be said of it, and no words more fit to
represent its excellency than these, that it was full of glory ;
or, as it is in the original, glorified joy. In rejoicing with
this joy, their minds were filled, as it were, with a glorious
brightness, and their natures exalted and perfected. It
was a most worthy, noble rejoicing, that did not corrupt
and debase the mind, as many carnal joys do ; but did
greatly beautify and dignify it. It was a prelibation of
the joy of heaven, that raised their minds to a degree of
heavenly blessedness ; it filled their minds with the light
of God's glory, and made themselves to shine with some
communication of that glory.
Hence the proposition or doctrine, that I would raise
from these words is this, true religion, in great
PART, CONSISTS IN HOLY AFFECTIONS.
We see that the apostle, in remarking the operations and

Sect. I.

PREVIOUS REMARKS ON THE AFFECTIONS

237

exercises of religion in these Christians, when it had its
greatest trial by persecution, as gold is tried in the fire—
and when it not only proved true, but was most pure from
dross and mixtures — and when it appeared in them most
in its genuine excellency and native beauty, and was found
to praise, and honour, and glory — he singles out the reli
gious affections of love and joy, as those exercises, wherein
their religion did thus appear true, pure, and glorious.
Here it may be inquired, what the affections of the mind
are ? — I answer, The affections are no other, than the more
vigorous and sensible exercises of the inclination and will of
the soul.
God has endued the soul with two principal faculties :
The one, that by which it is capable of perception and
speculation, or by which it discerns and judges of things ;
which is called the understanding. The other, that by
which the soul is some w^.y inclined with respect to the
things it views or considers!: or it is the faculty by which
the soul beholds things — not as an indifferent unaffected
spectator, but — either as liking or disliking, pleased or
displeased, approving or rejecting. This faculty is called
by various names : it is sometimes called the inclination;
and, as it respects the actions determined and governed by
it, the will: and the mind, with regard to the exercises of
this faculty, is often called the heart.
The exercises of this last faculty are of two sorts ; either,
those by which the soul is carried out towards the things
in view in approving them, being pleased with and in
clined to them ; or, those in which the soul opposes the
tilings in view, in disapproving them ; and in being dis
pleased with, averse from, and rejecting them  And as
the exercises of the inclination are various in their kinds,
so they are much more various in their degrees. There are
some exercises of pleasedness or displeasedness, inclina
tion or disinclination, wherein the soul is carried but a
little beyond a state of perfect indifference. And there are
other degrees, wherein the approbation or dislike, pleased-
nes:- or aversion, are stronger ; wherein we may rise higher
and higher, till the soul comes to act vigorously and sensi
bly, and its actings are with that strength, that (through
the laws of union which the Creator has fixed, between
soul and body) the motion of the blood and animal spirits
begins to be sensibly altered : whence oftentimes arises
some bodily sensation, especially about the heart and
vitals, which are the fountain of the fluids of the body.
Whence it comes to pass, that the mind, with regard to
the exercises of this faculty, perhaps in all nations and
ages, is called the heart. And it is to be noted, that they
are these more vigorous and sensible exercises of this
faculty, which are called the affections.
The will, and the affections of the soul, are not two fa
culties ; the affections are not essentially distinct from the
will, nor do they differ from the mere actings of the will
and inclination, but only in the liveliness and sensibility
of exercise. — It must be confessed, that language is here
somewhat imperfect, the meaning of words in a consider
able measure loose and unfixed, and not precisely limited
by custom which governs the use of language. In some
sense, the affection of the soul differs nothing at all from
the will and inclination, and the will never is in any exer
cise further than it is affected ; it is not moved out of a
state of perfect indifference, any otherwise than as it is
affected one way or other. But yet there are many actings
of the will and inclination, that are not so commonly called
affections. In every thing we do, wherein we act volun
tarily, there is an exercise of the will and inclination. It
is our inclination that governs us in our actions ; but all
the actings of the inclination and will, are not ordinarily
called affections. Yet, what are commonly called affec
tions are not essentially different from them, but only in
the degree and manner of exercise. In every act of the
will whatsoever, the soul either likes or dislikes, is either
inclined or disinclined to what is in view. These are not
essentially different from the affections of love, and hatred.
A liking or inclination ofthe soul to a thing, if it be in a
high degree vigorous and lively, is the verv same thing
with the affection of love : and a disliking and disinclining,
if in a great degree, is the very same with hatred. In
every act of the will for or towards something not present,
the soul is in some degree inclined to that thing ; and that

inclination, if in a considerable degree, is the very same
with the affection of desire. And in every degree of an
act of the will, wherein the soul approves of something
present, there is a degree of pleasedness ; and that pleased
ness, if it be in a considerable degree, is the very same
with the affection of joy or delight. And if the will dis
approves of what is present, the soul is in some degree
displeased, and if that displeasedness be great, it is the
very same with the affection of grief or sorrow.
Such seems to be our nature, arid such the laws of the
union of soul and body, that there never is in any case
whatsoever, any lively and vigorous exercise of the inclina
tion, without some effect upon the body, in some alteration
of the motion of its fluids, and especially of the animal
spirits.— And, on the other hand, from the same laws of
union, over the constitution of the body, and the motion
of its fluids, may promote the exercise' of the affections.
But yet, it is not the body, but the mind only, that is the
proper seat of the affections. The body of man is no more
capable of being really the subject of love or hatred, joy
or sorrow, fear or hope, than the bodv of a tree, or than
the same body of man is capable of thinking and under
standing. As it is the soul only that has ideas, so it is
the soul only that is pleased or displeased with its ideas.
As it is the soul only that thinks, so it is the soul only that
loves or hates, rejoices or is grieved at, what it thinks of.
Nor are these motions of the animal spirits, and fluids of
the body, any thing properly belonging to the nature of
the affections ; though they always accompany them, in the
present state; but are only effects or concomitants of the
affections, which are entirely distinct from the affections
themselves, and no way essential to them ; so that an un
bodied spirit may be as capable of love and hatred, joy or
sorrow, nope or fear, or other affections, as one that is
united to a body.
The affections and passions are frequently spoken of as
the same ; and yet, m the more common use of speech,
there is in some respect a difference. Affection is a word,
that, in its ordinary signification, seems to be something
more extensive than passion, heing used for all vigorous
lively actings of the will or inclination ; but passion is
used for those that are more sudden, and whose effects on
the animal spirits are more violent, the mind being more
overpowered, and less in its own command .
As all the exercises of inclination and will, are concern
ed either in approving and liking, or disapproving and re
jecting; so the affections are of two sorts ; thev are those
by which the soul is carried out to what is in view, cleaving
to it, or seeking it ; or those by which it is averse from it,
and opposes it. Of the former sort are love, desire, hope,
joy, gratitude, complacence. Of the latter kind are hatred,
fear, anger, grief, and such like ; which it is needless now
to stand particularly to define.
And there are some affections wherein there is a com
position of each of the aforementioned kinds of actings of
the will; as in the affection of pity, there is something of
the former kind, towards the person suffering, and some
thing of the latter, towards what he suffers. And so in
zeal, there is in it high approbation of some person or
thing, together with vigorous opposition to what is con
ceived to be contrary to it.

SECT. II.
True religion, in great part, consists in the affections.
1 . What has been said of the nature of the affections
makes this evident ; and may be sufficient, without adding
any thing further, to put this matter out of doubt : for
who will deny that true religion consists, in a great mea
sure, in vigorous and lively actings of the inclination and
will of the soul, or the fervent exercises of the heart ?
That religion which God requires, and will accept, does
not consist in weak, dull, and lifeless wishes, raising us
but a little above a state of indifference. God, in his ,
word, greatly insists upon it, that we be in good earnest,
fervent in spirit, and our hearts vigorously engaged in re
ligion : Rom. xii. 11. "Be ye fervent in spirit, serving the
Lord." Deut. x. 12. " And now Israel, what doth the

238

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part I.

Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy
God, to walk in all his ways, and to love him, and to
serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all
thy soul ?" And chap. vi. 4, 5. " Hear, O Israel, the
Lord our God is one Lord : and thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with
all thy might." It is such a fervent, vigorous engagedness
of the heart in religion, that is the fruit of a real circum
cision of the heart, or true regeneration, and that has the
promises of life : Deut. xxx. 6. " And the Lord thy God
will circumcise thine heart, and the heart of thy seed, to
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy
soul, that thou mayest live."
If we be not in good earnest in religion, and our wills
and inclinations be not strongly exercised, we are nothing.
The things of religion are so great, that there can be no
suitableness in the exercises of our hearts, to their nature
and importance, unless they be lively and powerful. In
nothing is vigour in the actings of our inclinations so
requisite, as in religion ; and in nothing is lukewarmness so
odious. True religion is evermore a powerful thing ; and
the power of it appears, in the first place, in its exercises
in the heart, its principal and original seat. Hence true
religion is called the power of godliness, in distinction from
external appearances, which are the form of it, 2 Tim. iii.
5. " Having a form of godliness, but denying the power
of it." The Spirit of God, in those who have sound and
solid religion, is a Spirit of powerful holy affection ; and
therefore, God is said " to have given them the Spirit of
power, and of love, and of a sound mind," (2 Tim. i. 7.)
And such, when they receive the Spirit of God in his sancti
fying and saving influences, are said to be " baptized with
the Holy Ghost, and with fire ;" by reason of the power
and fervour of those exercises which the Spirit of God ex
cites in them, and whereby their hearts, when grace is in
exercise, may be said to burn within them. (Luke xxiv.
32.) The business of religion is, from time to time, compared
to those exercises, wherein men are wont to have their
hearts and strength greatly exercised and engaged ; such
as running, wrestling, or agonizing for a great prize or
crown, and fighting with strong enemies that seek our lives,
and warring as those that by violence take a city or king
dom. Though true grace has various degrees, and there
are some who are but babes in Christ, in whom the exer
cise ofthe inclination and will towards divine and heavenly
things, is comparatively weak ; yet every one that has the
power of godliness, has his inclinations and heart exercised
towards God and divine things with such strength and
vigour, that these holy exercises prevail in him above all
carnal or natural affections, and are effectual to overcome
them : for every true disciple of Christ " loves him above
father or mother, wife and children, brethren and sisters,
houses and lands ; yea more than his own life." Hence
it follows, that wherever true religion is, there are vigorous
exercises ofthe inclination and will towards divine objects :
but by what was said before, the vigorous, lively, and
sensible exercises of the will, are no other than the affec
tions ofthe soul.
2. The Author of our nature has not only given us af
fections, but has made them very much the spring of ac
tions. As the affections not only necessarily belong to the
human nature, but are a very great part of it ; so (inas
much as by regeneration persons are renewed in the whole
man) holy affections not only necessarily belong to true
religion, "but are a very great part of such religion. And
as true religion is practical, and God hath so constituted
the human nature, that the affections are very much the
spring of men's actions, this also shows, that true religion
must consist very much in the affections.
Such is man's nature, that he is very inactive, any other
wise than he is influenced by either love or hatred, desire,
hope, fear, or some other affection. These affections we
see to be the moving springs in all the affairs of life, which
engage men in all their pursuits; and especially in all
affairs wherein they are earnestly engaged, and which they
pursue with vigour. We see the world of mankind ex
ceedingly busy and active ; and their affections are the
springs of motion : take away all love and haired, all hope
and fear, all anger; zeal, arid affectionate desire, and the

world would be, in a great measure, motionless and dead :
there would be no such thing as activity amongst man
kind, or any earnest pursuit whatsoever. It is affection
that engages the covetous man, and him that is greedy of
worldly profits ; it is by the affections that the ambitious
man is put forward in his pursuit of worldly glory ; and
the affections also actuate the voluptuous man, in his plea
sure and sensual delights. The world continues from age
to age, in a continual commotion and agitation, in pursuit
of these things ; but take away affection, and the spring of
all this motion would be gone ; the motion itself would
cease. And as in worldly things, worldly affections are
very much the spring of men's motion and action ; so in
religious matters, the spring of their actions are very much
religious affections : he that has doctrinal knowledge and
speculation only, without affection, never is engaged in the
business of religion.
3. Nothing is more manifest in fact, than that the things
of .religion take hold of men's souls no further than they
affect them. There are multitudes who often hear the
word of God, of things infinitely great and important, and
which most nearly concern them, yet all seems to be
wholly ineffectual upon them, and to make no alteration
in their disposition or behaviour ; the reason is, they are
not affected with what they hear. There are many who
often hear of the glorious perfections of God, his almighty
power, boundless wisdom, infinite majesty, and that holi
ness by which he is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and
cannot look on iniquity; together with his infinite goodness
and mercy. They hear of the great works of God's wis
dom, power, and goodness, wherein there appear the ad
mirable manifestations of these perfections. They hear
particularly of the unspeakable love of God and Christ,
and what Christ has done and suffered. They hear of the
great things of another world, of eternal misery, in bearing
the fierceness and wrath of almighty God ; and of endless
blessedness and glory in the presence of God, and the en
joyment of his love. They also hear the peremptory com
mands of God, his gracious counsels and warnings, and the
sweet invitations of the gospel. Yet they remain as before,
with no sensible alteration, either in heart or practice, be
cause they are not affected with what they hear. I am bold
to assert, that there never was any considerable change
wrought in the mind or conversation of any person, by any
thing of a religious nature that ever he read, heard, or saw,
who had not his affections moved. Never was a natural
man engaged earnestly to seek his salvation ; never were
any such brought to cry after wisdom, and lift up their
voice for understanding, and to wrestle with God in prayer
for mercy ; and never was one humbled, and brought to
the foot of God, from any thing that ever he heard or
imagined of his own unworthiness and deservings of God's
displeasure ; nor was ever one induced to fly for refuge
unto Christ, while his heart remained unaffected. Nor
was there ever a saint awakened out of a cold, lifeless
frame, or recovered from a declining state in religion, and
brought back from a lamentable departure from God,
without having his heart affected. And, in a word, there
never was any thing considerable brought to pass in the
heart or life of any man living, by the things of religion,
that had not his heart deeply affected by those things.
4. The Holy Scriptures every where place religion very
much in the affections ; such as fear, hope, love, hatred,
desire, joy, sorrow, gratitude, compassion, and zeal.
The Scriptures place much of religion in godly fear ;
insomuch that an experience of it is often spoken of as the
character of those who are truly religious persons. They
tremble at God's word, they jear before him, their flesh
trembles for fear of him, they are afraid of his judgments,
his excellency makes them afraid, and his dread falls upon
them, &c. An appellation commonly given the saints in
Scripture, is, fearers of God, or they that fear the Lord.
And because this is a great part of true godliness, hence
true godliness in general is very commonly called the fear
of God.
So hope in God, and in the promises of his word, is of
ten spoken of in the Scripture, as a very considerable part
of true religion. It is mentioned as one of the three great
things of which religion consists, 1 Cor. xiii. 13. Hope
in the Lord is also frequently mentioned as the character

.Sect. II.

TRUE RELIGION LIES MUCH IN AFFECTIONS.

239

ofthe saints : Psal. cxlvi. 5, " Happy is he that hath the
God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his
God." Jer. xvii. 7. " Blessed is the man that trusteth in
the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is." Psal. xxxi. 24.
" Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart,
all ye that hope in the Lord." And the like in many
other places. Religious fear and hope are, once and again,
joined together, as jointly constituting the character of the
true saints: Psal. xxxiii. 18. "Behold, the eye of the
Lord is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in
his mercy." Psal. cxlvii. 11. " The Lord taketh pleasure
in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy."
Hope is so great a part of true religion, that the apostle
says we are saved by hope, Rom. viii. 24. And this is
spoken of as the helmet of the Christian soldier, 1 Thess.
v. 8. " And for an helmet, the hope of salvation ;" and the
sure and stedfast anchor of the soul, which preserves it
from being cast away by the storms of this evil world,
Heb. vi. 19. " Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul,
both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that
within the vail." It is spoken of as a great benefit which
true saints receive by Christ's resurrection, 1 Pet. i. 3.
" Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
which, according to his abundant mercy, hath begotten us
again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ
from the dead. '
The Scriptures place religion very much in the affection
oflove; love to God,and the Lord Jesus Christ; love to the
people of God, and to mankind. The texts in which this
is manifest, both in the Old Testament and New, are in
numerable. But of this more afterwards. The contrary
affection of hatred also, as having sin for its object, is
spoken of in Scripture as no inconsiderable part of true
religion. It is spoken of as that by which true religion may
be known and distinguished. Prov. viii. 13. "The fear
of the Lord is to hate evil." Accordingly, the saints are
called upon to give evidence of their sincerity by this,
Psal. xcvii. 10. " Ye that love the Lord, hate evil" And
the psalmist often mentions it as an evidence of his sin
cerity ; Psal. ci. 2, 3. " I will walk within my house with
a perfect heart. I will set no wicked thing before mine
eyes : I hate the work of them that turn aside." Psal.
cxix. 104. "I hate every false way." So ver. 128. Again,
Psal. cxxxix. 21. " Do I not hate them, O Lord, that nate
thee ?"
So holy desire, exercised in longings, hungerings, and
thirstings after God and holiness, is often mentioned in
Scripture as an important part of true religion : Isa. xxvi.
8. " The desire of our soul is to thy name, and to the re
membrance of thee." Psal. xxvii. 4. " One thing have I
desired of the Lord, and that will I seek after, that I may
dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life ;
to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his
temple." Psal. xiii. 1, 2. " As the hart panteth after the
water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My
soul thirsteth for God, for the living God : when shall I come
and appear before God ?" Psal. lxiii. 1, 2. " My soul
thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee, in a dry and
thirsty land where no water is : to see thy power and thy
glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary." Psal.
lxxxiv. 1,2. " How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord
of hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the
courts of the Lord : my heart and my flesh crieth out for
the living God." Psal. cxix. 20. " My soul breaketh for
the longing, that it hath unto thy judgments at all times."*
Such a holy desire, or thirst of soul, denotes a man truly
blessed : Matt. v. 6. " Blessed are they that do hunger and
thirst after righteousness : for they shall be filled. And
this holy thirst is connected with the blessings of eternal
life : Rev. xxi. 6. " I will give unto him that is athirst,
of the fountain of the water of life freely."
The Scriptures speak of holy joy, as a great part of true
religion. So it is represented iii the text. And as an im
portant part of religion, it is often pressed with great
earnestness ; Psal. xxxvii. 4. " Delight thyself in the
Lord ; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart."
Psal. xcvii. 12. " Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous." So
Psal. xxxiii. 1. " Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous."
* So Psal. Ixxiii. 25. and cxliii. 6, 7. and cxxx. 6. Cant. iii. I, 2, and vi, 6.

Matt. v. 12. " Rejoice, and be exceeding glad." Phil.
iii. 1 ." Finally, brethren, rejoice in the Lord." And
chap. iv. 4. " Rejoice in the Lord alway : and again I say,
rejoice." 1 Thess. v. 16. " Rejoice evermore." Psal.
cxlix. 2. " Let Israel rejoice in him that made him : let
the children of Zion be joyful in their King." This is
mentioned among the principal fruits of the Spirit of grace,
Gal. y. 22. " The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy," &c— The
psalmist mentions his holy joy, as an evidence of his sin
cerity, Psal. cxix. 14. "I have rejoiced in the way of
thy testimonies, as much as in all riches."
Religious sorrow, mourning, and brokenness of heart,
are also frequently spoken of as a great part of true religion.
These things are often mentioned as distinguishing qualities
of the true saints, and a great part of their character :
Matt. v. 4. " Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall
be comforted." Psal. xxxiv. 18. " The Lord is nigh unto
them that are of a broken heart; and savethsuch as be of
a contrite spirit." Isa. lxi. 1, 2. "The Lord hath anointed
me — to bind up the broken hearted, — to comfort all that
mourn." This godly sorrow and brokenness of heart is of
ten spoken of, not only as a distinguishing character of the
saints, but as that in them, which is peculiarly acceptable
and pleasing to God : Psal. li. 17. " The sacrifices of
God are a broken spirit : a broken and a contrite heart, O
God, thou wilt not despise." Isa. lvii. 15. "Thus saith
the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name
is holy, I dwell in the high and holy place; with him also
that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit
of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones."
Chap. lxvi. 2. "To this man will I look, even to him that
is poor and of a contrite spirit."
Another affection often mentioned, as that in the exer
cise of which much of true religion appears, is gratitude ;
especially as exercised in thankfulness and praise to God.
This being so much spoken of in the book of Psalms, and
other parts of the Holy Scriptures, I need not mention par
ticular texts.
Again, the Holy Scriptures frequently speak of compas
sion or mercy, as a very great and essential thing in true
religion ; insomuch that a merciful man, and a good man,
are equivalent terms in Scripture : Isa. lvii. 1 . " 'The righte
ous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart ; and merciful
men are taken away." And the Scripture chooses out this
quality, as that by which, in a peculiar manner, a righte
ous man is deciphered : Psal. xxxvii. 21. "The righteous
showeth mercy, and giveth ; and ver. 26. " He is ever
merciful, and lendeth." And Prov. xiv. 3T. " He that
honoureth the Lord, hath mercy on the poor." And Col.
iii. 12." Put ye on, as the elect of God, holy and beloved,
bowels of mercies," &c. This is one of those great things,
by which the truly blessed are described by our Saviour,
Matt. v. 7. " Blessed are the merciful : for they shall ob
tain mercy." And this Christ also speaks of, as one of
the weightier matters of the law, Matt, xxiii. 23. " Woe
unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye pay
tithe of mint, and anise, and cummin, and have omitted
the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and
faith." To the like purpose is Mic. vi. 8. " He hath
showed thee, O man, what is good : and what doth the
Lord require of thee, but to do justice, and love mercy, and
walk humbly with thy God 1" And also Hos. vi. 6. " For
I desired mercy, and not sacrifice ;" a text much delighted
in by our Saviour, it seems, by his manner of citing it once
and again. (Matt. ix. 13. and xii. 7.)
Zeal is also spoken of, as a very essential part of the
religion of true saints . This was a great thing which Christ
had in view, in giving himself for our redemption : Tit. ii.
14. " Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us
from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people,
zealous of good works." And this was the great thing
wanting in the luke-warm Laodiceans. (Rev. iii. 15,
16, 19.)
I have mentioned but a few texts, out of an innumer
able multitude, which place religion very much in the
affections. But what has been observed may be sufficient
to show, that they who maintain the contrary, must throw
away what we have been wont to own for our Bible, and

240

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part I:

get some otlier rule by which to judge of the nature of
religion. 5. The Scriptures represent true religion, as being sum
marily comprehended in love, the chief of the affections,
and the fountain of all others. So our blessed Saviour
represents the matter, in answer to the lawyer who asked
him, Which was the great commandment of the law?
(Matt. xxii. 37 — 40.) " Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy
soul, and with all thy mind. This, is the first and great
commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two com
mandments hang all the law and the prophets." These
two commandments comprehend all the duty prescribed
in the law and the prophets. And the apostle Paul makes
the same representation of the matter ; as in Rom. xiii. 8.
" He that loveth another, hath fulfilled the law." And
verse 10. " Love is the fulfilling of the law." And Gal.
v. 14. " For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in
this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." So like
wise in 1 Tim. i. 5. " Now the end of the commandment
is charity, out of a pure heart," &c. The same apostle
speaks of love, as the greatest thing in religion, as th_
essence and soul of it ; without which, the greatest know
ledge and gifts, the most glaring profession, and every
thing else which appertains to religion, are vain and worth
less. He also represents it as the fountain from whence
proceeds all that is good, in 1 Cor. xiii. throughout ; for
that which is there rendered charity, is in the original
a?<™>i, the proper English of which is love.
Now, although it be true, that the love thus spoken of,
includes the whole of a sincerely benevolent propensity of
the soul towards God and man ; yet, it is evident from
what has been before observed, that this propensity or in
clination of the soul, when in sensible and vigorous exer
cise, becomes affection, and is no other than affectionate
love. And surely it is such vigorous and fervent love,
which Christ represents as the sum of all religion, when
he speaks of loving God with all our hearts, with all our
souls, and with all our minds, and our neighbour as our
selves. Indeed it cannot be supposed, when this affection of
love is spoken of as the sum of all religion, that hereby
is meant the act, exclusively of the habit, or that the exer
cise of the understanding is excluded, which is implied in
all reasonable affection. But it is doubtless true, and
evident from the Scriptures, that the essence of all true
religion lies in holy love ; and that in this divine affection
— and habitual disposition to it, that light which is the
foundation to it, and those things which are its fruits —
consists the whole of religion.
From hence it clearly and certainly appears, that great
part of true religion consists in the affections. For love
is not only one of the affections, but it is the first and chief
of them, and the fountain of all the others. From love
arises hatred of those things which are contrary to what we
love, or which oppose and thwart us in those things that
we delight in : and from the various exercises of love and
hatred, according to the circumstances of the objects of
these affections, as present or absent, certain or uncertain,
probable or improbable, arise all those other affections of
desire, hope, fear, joy, grief, gratitude, anger, &c. From a
vigorous, affectionate, and fervent love to God, will neces
sarily arise other religious affections ; hence will arise an
intense hatred and a fear of sin ; a di ead of God's dis
pleasure ; gratitude to God for his goodness ; complacence
and joy in God when he is graciously and sensibly pre
sent; grief when he is absent; a joyful hope when a future
enjoyment of God is expected ; and fervent zeal for the
divine glory. In like manner, from a fervent love to men,
will arise all other virtuous affections towards them.
6. The religion of the most eminent saints of whom we
have au account in the Scripture, consisted much in holy
affections. — I shall take particular notice of three eminent
saints, who have expressed the frame and sentiments of
their own hearts, described their own religion, and the
manner of their intercourse with God, in the writings which
they have left us, and which are a part of the sacred
canon. The first instance is David, that man after God's own

heart ; who has given us a lively portraiture of his religion
in the book of Psalms. Those holy songs are nothing
else but the expressions and breathings of devout and holy
affections; such as an .nimble and fervent love to God,
admiration of his glorious perfections and wonderful
works, earnest desires, thirstings, and pantings of soul after
him ; delight and joy in God, a sweet and melting grati
tude for his great goodness, a holy exultation and triumph
of soul in his favour, sufficiency, and faithfulness ; his
love to, and delight in, the saints, the excellent ofthe earth,
his great delight in the word and ordinances of God, his
grief for his own and others' sins, and his fervent zeal for
God, and against the enemies of God and his church.
And these expressions of holy affection of which the
Psalms of David are every where full, are the more to our
present purpose, because those psalms are not only the
expressions of the religion of so eminent a saint, but were
also, by the direction of the Holy Ghost, penned for the
use of the church of God in its public worship, not only
in that age, but in after ages ; as being fitted to express the
religion of all saints, in all ages, as well as the religion of
the psalmist. And it is moreover to be observed, that
David, in the book of Psalms, speaks not as a private
Eerson, but as the Psalmist of Israel, as the subordinate
ead of the church of God, and leader in their worship
and praises ; and in many of the psalms, he speaks in the
name of Christ, as personating him in these breathings
forth of holy affections ; and in many others he speaks in
the name of the church.
Another instance I shall observe, is the apostle Paul;
who was, in many respects, the chief of all the ministers
of the New Testament ; being above all others a chosen
vessel unto Christ, to bear his name before the Gentiles.
He was made the chief instrument of propagating and
establishing the christian church in the world, and of dis
tinctly revealing the glorious mysteries of the gospel, for
the instruction of the church in all ages ; and (as not im
probably thought by some) was the most eminent servant
of Christ that ever lived, and received the highest rewards
in the heavenly kingdom of his Master. By what is said
of him in the Scripture, he appears to have been a person
full of affection ; and it is very manifest, that the religion
he expresses in his epistles, consisted very much in holy
affections. It appears by all his expressions of himself,
that he was, in the course of his life, inflamed, actuated,
and entirely swallowed up, by a most ardent love to his
glorious Lord, esteeming all things as loss, for the excel
lency of the knowledge of him, and esteeming them but
dung that he might win him. He represents himself as
overpowered by this holy affection, and as it were com
pelled by it to go forward in his service, through all diffi
culties and sufferings, 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. And his epistles
are full of expressions of an overflowing affection towards
the people of Christ : he speaks of his dear love to them,
2 Cor. xii. 19. Phil. iv. 1. 2 Tim. i. 2. of his abundant
love, 2 Cor. ii. 4. and of his affectionate and tender' love,
as of a nurse towards her children, 1 Thess. ii. 7, 8. " But
we were gentle among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her
children : so, being affectionately desirous of you, we were
willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God
only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto
us. So also he speaks of his bowels of love, Phil. i. 8.
Philem. 5, 12, and 20. of his earnest care for others, 2 Cor.
viii. 16. of his bowels of pity or mercy towards them, Phil.
ii. 1. and of his concern for others, even to anguish of
heart, 2 Cor. ii. 4. " For out of much affliction and
anguish of heart, I wrote unto you with many- tears; not
that you should be grieved, but that ye might know the
love which I have more abundantly unto you." He
speaks of the great conflict of his soul for them, Col. ii. 1 .
and of great and continual grief he had in his heart from
compassion to the Jews, Romi. ix. 2. He speaks of his
mouth being opened, and his heart enlarged towards Chris
tians, 2 Cor. vi. 11. "O ye Corinthians, our mouth is
open unto you, our heart is enlarged." He often speaks
of his uffi ctionate and longing dtsires, (1 Thess. ii. 8. Rom,
i. 11. Phil. i. 8. and chap. iv. 1. 2 Tim. i. 4.)
The same apostle very often, in his epistles, expresses
the affection of joy, (2 Cor. i. 12. and chap. vii. 7, and
ver. 9, 16. Phil. i.'4. and chap, ii, 1,2. and chap. iii. 3.

Sect. II.

TRUE RELIGION LIES MUCH IN AFFECTIONS.

241

Col. i. 24. 1 Thess. iii. 9.) He speaks of his rejoicing
with great joy, (Phil. iv. 10. Philem. 1, 7.) of his joying
and rejoicing, (Phil. ii. 1, 7.) of his rejoicing exceedingly,
(2 Cor. vii. 13.) being filled withYomfort, exceeding joyful,
(2 Cor. vii. 4.) and always rejoicing, (2 Cor. vi. 10.^ So
he speaks of the triumphs of his soul, (2 Cor. ii. 14/) and
of Ins glon/ing in tribulation, (2 Thess. i. 4. and Rom.
v. 3.) In Phil. i. 20. he speaks of his earnest expectation,
_nd his hope. He likewise expresses an affection of godly
jealousy, 2 Cor. xi. 2, 3. And it appears by his whole
history, after his conversion, that the affection of zeal, as
having the cause of his Master and the interest and pros
perity of his church for its object, was mighty in nim,
continually inflaming his heart, strongly engaging to great
and constant labours, in instructing, exhorting, warning,
and reproving others, travailing in birth with them ; con
flicting with those powerful and innumerable enemies who
continually opposed him, wrestling with principalities and
powers, not fighting as one who beats the air, running the
race set before him, continually pressing forwards through
all manner of difficulties and sufferings ; so that others
thought him quite beside himself. And how full he was
of affection further appears by his being so full of tears :
in 2 Cor. ii. 4. he speaks of his many tears ; and so Acts
xx. 19. and of his tears that he shed continually, night
and day, ver. 31 .
Now if any one can consider these accounts given in
the Scripture of this great apostle, and which he gives of
himself, and yet not see that his religion consisted much
in affection, he must have a strange faculty of managing his
eyes in order to shut out the light which shines most full
in his face.
The other instance I shall mention, is that of the apostle
John, the beloved disciple, who was the nearest and dearest
to his Master of any of the twelve, and who was by him
admitted to the greatest privileges of any of them. He
was not only one of the three who were admitted to be
present with him in the mount at his transfiguration, and
at the raising of Jairus's daughter, and whom he took with
him when he was in his agony, and one of three spoken
of by the apostle Paul, as the three main pillars of the
christian church ; but he was favoured above all, in being
admitted to lean on his Master's bosom at his last supper,
and in being chosen by Christ as the disciple to whom he
would reveal his wonderful dispensations towards his
church, to the end of time. By him was shut up the
canon of the New Testament, and of the whole Scripture ;
and he was preserved much longer than all the rest of the
apostles, to set all things in order in the christian church
after their death.
It is evident by all his writings, that he was a person
remarkably full of affection : his addresses to those whom
he wrote to, being inexpressibly tender and pathetic,
breathing nothing but the most fervent love ; as though he
were all made up of sweet and holy affection. The proofs
of which cannot be given without disadvantage, unless we
should transcribe his whole writings.
7. He whom God sent into the world, to be the light of
the world and the head of the whole church, and the per
fect example of true religion and virtue for the imitation
of all, the Shepherd whom the whole flock should follow
wherever he goes, even the Lord Jesus Christ, was of a
remarkably tender and affectionate heart ; and his virtue
was expressed very much in the exercise of holy affections .
He was the greatest instance of ardency, vigour, and
strength of love, to both God and man, that ever was. It
was these affections which got the victory, in that mighty
struggle and conflict of his affections, in his agonies, when
he prayed more earnestly, and offered strong crying and
tears, and wrestled in tears and m blood. Such was the
power of the exercises of his holy love, that they were
stronger than death, and in that great struggle, overcame
those strong exercises of the natural affections of fear and
grief, when he was sore amazed, and his soul was exceed
ing sorrowful, even unto death.
He also appeared to be full of affection, in the course
of his life. We read of his great zeal, fulfilling that ex
pression in the 69th Psalm, "The zeal of thine house
* This is evident by many scriptures, as Prov. iv. 18. John iv. 14. and chap.
VOL. I. R

hath eaten me up," John ii. 17. We read of his grief
for the sins of men, Mark iii. 5. "He looked round about
on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of
their hearts ; " and his breaking forth in tears and excla
mations, from the consideration of the sin and misery of
ungodly men, and on the sight of the city of Jerusalem,
which was full of such inhabitants, Luke xix. 41, 42.
"And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and
wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at
least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy
peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes." With
chap. xiii. 34. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest
the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee :
how often would I have gathered thy children together, as
a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would
not!" We read of Christ's earnest desire, Luke xxii. 15.
" With desire have I desired to eat this passover with you
before I suffer." We often read of the affection of pity
or compassion in Christ, (Matt. xv. 32. and xviii. 34. Luke
vii. 13.) and of his being moved with compassion, (Matt.
ix. 36. and xiv. 14. and Mark vi. 34.) And how tender
did his heart appear to be, on occasion of Mary's and
Martha's mourning for their brother, and coming to him
with their complaints and tears ! Their tears soon drew
tears from his eyes ; he was affected with their grief, and
wept with them ; though he knew their sorrow should so
soon be turned into joy, by their brother being raised from
the dead : see John xi. And how ineffably affectionate
was that last and dying discourse, which Jesus had with
his eleven disciples the evening before he was crucified ;
when he told them he was going away, and foretold them
the great difficulties and sufferings they should meet with
in the world, when he was gone ; and comforted and
counselled them, as his dear little children; and be
queathed to them his Holy Spirit, and therein his peace,
his comfort and joy, as it were in his last will and testa
ment, in the 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th chapters of John ;
and concluded the whole with that affectionate intercessory
prayer for them, and his whole church, in chap. xvii. Of
all the discourses ever penned or uttered by the mouth of
any man, this seems to be the most affectionate and af
fecting. 8. The religion of heaven consists very much in affec
tion.— There is doubtless true religion in 'heaven, and true
religion in its utmost purity and perfection. But accord
ing to the scripture representation of the heavenly state,
the religion of heaven consists chiefly in holy and mighty
love and joy, and the expression of these in most fervent
and exalted praises. So that the religion of the saints in
heaven, consists in the same things with that religion of
the saints on earth, which is spoken of in our text, viz.
love, and joy unspeakable, and full of glory. Now, it would
be very foolish to pretend, that because the saints in heaven
are not united to flesh and blood, and have no animal
fluids to be moved (through the laws of union of soul
and body) with those great emotions of their souls, that
therefore their exceeding love and joy are no affections.
We are not speaking of the affections of the body, but
those of the soul, the chief of which are love and joy.
When these are in the soul, whether that be in the body
or out of it, the soul is affected and moved. And when
they are in the soul, in that strength in which they are in
the saints in heaven, it is mightily affected and moved, or,
which is the same thing, has great affections. It is true,
we do not experimentally know what love and joy are in
a soul out of a body, or in a glorified body ; i. e. we have
not had experience of love and joy in a soul in these cir
cumstances ; but the saints on earth do know what divine
love and joy in the soul are, and they know that love and
joy are of the same kind with the love and joy which are
in heaven, in separate souls there. The love and joy of
the saints on earth, is the beginning and dawning of the
light, life, and blessedness of heaven, and is like their
love and joy there ; or rather, the same in nature, though
not the same in degree and circumstances.* It is un
reasonable therefore to suppose, that the love and joy of
the saints in heaven differ not only in degree and circum
stances, from the holy love and joy of the saints on earth,
vi. 40, 47, 50, 51, 54, 58. 1 John iii. 15. 1 Cor. xiii. 8-12.

242

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part I.

but also in nature, so that they are no affections ; and
merely because they have no blood and animal spirits to
be set in motion by them. The motion of the blood and
animal spirits is not of the essence of these affections, in
men on the earth, but the effect of them ; although by
their reaction they may make some circumstantial differ
ence in the sensation of the mind. There is a sensation
of the mind which loves and rejoices, antecedent to any
effects on the fluids of the body ; and therefore, does not
depend on these motions in the body, and so may be in
the soul without the body. And wherever there are the
exercises of love and joy, there is that sensation of the
mind, whether it be in the body or out ; and that inward
sensation, or kind of spiritual feeling, is what is called
affection. The soul, when it is thus moved, is said to be
affected, and especially when this inward sensation and
motion are to a very high degree, as they are in the saints
in heaven. If we can learn any thing of the state of
heaven from the Scripture, the love and joy that the
saints have there, is exceeding great and vigorous ; im
pressing the heart with the strongest and most lively
sensation of inexpressible sweetness, mightily moving,
animating, and engaging them, making them like to a
flame of fire. And if such love and joy be not affections,
then the word affection is of no use in language. — Will any
say, that the saints in heaven, in beholding the face of
their Father and the glory of their Redeemer, in contem
plating his wonderful works, and particularly his laying
down his life for them, have their hearts nothing moved
and affected by all which they behold or consider ?
Hence, therefore, the religion of heaven, being full of
holy love and joy, consists very much in affection : and
therefore, undoubtedly, true religion consists very much in
affection. The way to learn the true nature of any thing,
is to go where that thing is to be found in its purity and
perfection. If we would know the nature of true gold, we
must view it, not in the ore, but when it is refined. If we
would learn what true religion is, we must go where there
is true religion, and nothing but true religion, and in its
highest perfection, without any defect or mixture. All
who are truly religious are not of this world, they are
strangers here, and belong to heaven ; they are born from
above, heaven is their native country, and the nature which
they receive by this heavenly birth, is a heavenly nature,
they receive an anointing from above ; that principle of
true religion which is in them, is a communication of the
religion of heaven ; their grace is the dawn of glory ; and
God fits them for that world by conforming them to it.
9. This appears from the nature and design of the ordi
nances and duties, which God hath appointed, as means
and expressions of true religion.
To instance in the duty of prayer : it is manifest, we
are not appointed, in this duty, to declare God's perfec
tions, his majesty, holiness, goodness, and all-sufficiency ;
our own meanness, emptiness, dependence, and unworthi-
ness, our wants and desires, in order to inform God of
these things, or to incline his heart, and prevail with him
to be willing to show us mercy ; but rather suitably to
affect our own hearts with the things we express, and so
to prepare us to receive the blessings we ask. And such
gestures and manner of external behaviour in the worship
of God, which custom has made to be significations of
humility and reverence, can be of no further use, than as
they have some tendency to affect our own hearts, or the
hearts of others.
And the duty of singing praises to God, seems to be
appointed wholly to excite and express religious affections.
No other reason can be assigned, why we should express
ourselves to God in verse, rather than in prose, and do it
with music, but only, that such is our nature and frame,
that these things have a tendency to move our affections.
The same thing appears in the nature and design of the
sacraments, which God hath appointed. God, considering
our frame, hath not only appointed that we should be
told of the great things of the gospel and the redemption
of Christ, and be instructed in them by his word ; but
also that they should be, as it were, exhibited to our view
in sensible representations, the more to affect us with them.
And the impressing of divine things on the hearts and
affections of men, is evidently one great end for which

God has ordained, tnat his word delivered in the Holy
Scriptures, should be opened, applied, and set home upon
men, in preaching. And therefore it does not answer the
aim which God had in this institution, merely for men to
have good commentaries and expositions on the Scripture,
and other good books of divinity ; because, although these
may tend, as well as preaching, to give a good doctrinal
or speculative understanding of the word of God, yet they
have not an equal tendency to impress them on men's
hearts and affections. God hath appointed a particular
and lively application of his word, in the preaching of it,
as a fit means to affect sinners with the importance of re
ligion, their own misery, the necessity of a remedy, and
the glory and sufficiency of a remedy provided ; to stir up
the pure minds of the saints, quicken their affections by
often bringing the great things of religion to their remem
brance, and setting them in their proper colours, though
they know them, and have been fully instructed in them
already, 2 Pet. i. 12, 13. And particularly, to promote
those two affections in them, which are spokeu of in the
text, love and joy : " Christ gave some, apostles ; and
some, prophets ; and some, evangelists ; and some, pastors
and teachers ; that the body of Christ might be edified in
love," Eph. iv. 11, 12, 16. The apostle, in instructing
and counselling Timothy, concerning the work of the
ministry, informs him, that the great end of that word
which a minister is to preach, is love or charily, 1 Tim. i.
3 — 5. And God has appointed preaching as a means to
promote in the saints joy: therefore ministers are called
helpers of their joy, 2 Cor. i. 24.
10. It is an evidence that true religion lies very much
in the affections, that the Scriptures place the sin of the
heart very much in hardness of heart. It was hardness of
heart which excited grief and displeasure in Christ towards
the Jews, Mark iii. 5. " He looked round about on them
with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts."
It is from men's having such a heart as this, that they
treasure up wrath for themselves ; Rom. ii. 5. " After thy
hardness and impenitent heart, treasurest up unto tliyself
wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the
righteous judgment of God." The reason given why the
house of Israel would not obey God, was, that they were
hard-hearted ; Ezek. iii. 7. " But the house of Israel will
not hearken unto thee ; for they will not hearken unto
me ; for all the house of Israel are impudent and hard
hearted." The wickedness of that perverse rebellious
generation in the wilderness, is ascribed to the hardness
of their hearts ; Psal. xcv. 7 — 1 0. " To-day if ye will hear
my voice, harden not your heart, as in the provocation,
and as in the day of temptation in the wilderness ; when
your fathers tempted me, proved me, and saw my work :
forty years long was I grieved with this generation, and
said, It is a people that do err in their heart," &c. — This is
spoken of as what prevented Zedekiah's turning to the
Lord, 2 Chron. xxxvi. 13. "He stiffened his neck, and
hardened his heart from turning to the Lord God of Israel."
This principle is that from whence men are without the
fear of God, and depart from Iris ways: Isa. lxiii. 17.
" O Lord, why hast thou made us to err from thy ways ?
and hardened our heart from thy fear ?" And men reject
ing Christ, and opposing Christianity, are charged with
this principle ; Acts xix. 9. " But divers were hardened,
and believed not, but spake evil of that way before the
multitude." — God's leaving men to the power of the sin
and corruption of the heart, is often expressed by his
hardening their hearts ; Rom. ix. 18. " Therefore hath he
mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will
he hardeneth. John xii. 40. " He hath blinded their
minds, and hardened their hearts." And the apostle
seems to speak of an evil heart, that departs from the.
living God, and a hard heart, as the same thing,' Heb. iii.
8. "Harden not your heart, as in the provocation," &c.
verse 12, 13. " Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any
of you an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from the
living God : but exhort one another daily while it is
called to-day ; lest any of you be hardened through the
deceitfulness of sin." And that great work of God in
conversion, which consists in delivering a person from the
power of sin, and mortifying corruption, is expressed, once
and again, by God's " taking away the heart of stone,

Sect. III.

INFERENCES FROM THE DOCTRINE.

243

and giving a heart of flesh, (Ezek. xi. 19. and chap.
xxxvi. 26.)
Now, by a hard heart is plainly meant an unaffected
heart, or a heart not easy to be moved with virtuous affec
tions, like a stone, insensible, stupid, unmoved, and hard
to be impressed. Hence the hard heart is called a stony
heart, and is opposed to a heart of flesh, that has feeling,
and is sensibly touched and moved. We read in Scrip
ture of a hard heart, and a tender heart : and doubtless
we are to understand these, as contrary the one to the
other. But what is a tender heart, but a heart which is
easily impressed with what ought to affect it ? God com
mends Josiah, because his heart was tender : and it is
evident by those things which are mentioned as expressions
and evidences of this tenderness of heart, that by it is
meant, his heart being easily moved with religious and
pious affections : 2 Kings xxii. 19. " Because thine heart
was tender, and thou hast humbled thyself before the
Lord, when thou heardst what I spake against this place,
and against the (inhabitants thereof, that they should be
come a desolation and a curse, and hast rent thy clothes,
and went before me, I also have heard thee, saith the Lord."
And this is one thing, wherein it is necessary we should
become as little children, in order to our entering into the
kingdom of God, even that we should have our hearts
tender, arid easily affected and moved in spiritual and di
vine things, as little children have in other things.
It is very plain in some places, that by hardness of heart
is meant a heart void of affection. So, to signify the
ostrich's being without natural affection to her young, it is
said, Job xxxix. 16. " She hardeneth her heart against her
young ones, as though they were not hers." So a person
having a heart unaffected in time of danger, is expressed
by his hardening his heart, Prov. xxviii. 14. " Happy is
the man that feareth alway ; but he that hardeneth his
heart, shall fall into mischief."
Now, therefore, since it is so plain, that by a hard heart
in Scripture, is meant a heart destitute of pious affections ;
and since also the Scriptures so frequently place the sin
and corruption of the heart in its hardness ; it is evident,
that the grace and holiness of the heart, on the contrary,
must in a great measure consist in its having pious affec
tions, and being easily susceptive of such affections. Di
vines are generally agreed, that sin radically and, funda
mentally consists in what is negative, or privative, having
its root and foundation in a privation or want of holiness.'
And therefore undoubtedly, if sin very much consist
in hardness of heart, and so in the want of pious affec
tions, holiness does consist very much in those pious affec
tions. I am far from supposing that all affections manifest a
tender heart ; hatred, anger, vain-glory, and other selfish
and self-exalting affections, may greatly prevail in the
hardest heart. But yet it is evident, that hardness of heart,
and tenderness of heart, are expressions that relate to the
affections of the heart, and denote its being susceptible of,
or shut up against, certain affections ; of which I shall
have occasion to speak more afterwards.
Upon the whole, I think it clearly and abundantly evi
dent, that true religion lies very much in the affections. Not
that I think these arguments prove, that religion in the
hearts of the truly godiy, is ever in exact proportion to the
degree of affection and present emotion of the mind : for,
undoubtedly, there is much affection in the true saints
which is not spiritual ; their religious affections are often
mixed; all is not from grace, but much from nature. And
though the affections have not their seat in the body, yet
the constitution of the body may very much contribute to
the present emotion of the mind. The degree of religion
is to be estimated by the fixedness and strength of habit
exercised in affection, whereby holy affection is habitual,
rather than by the degree of the present exercise : and the
strength of that habit is not always, in proportion to out
ward effects and manifestations, or indeed inward ones, in
the hurry, vehemence, and sudden changes of the course
of the thoughts. But yet it is evident, that religion con
sists so much in the affections, as that without holy affec
tion there is no true religion. No light in the understand
ing is good, which does not produce holy affection in the
heart ; no habit or principle in the heart is good, which has
R2

no such exercise ; and no external fruit is good, which does
not proceed from such exercises.

SECT. HI.
Some inferences deduced from the doctrine.
1. We may hence learn how great their error is, who are
for discarding all religious affections, as having nothing
solid or substantial in them. There seems to be too much
of a disposition this way prevailing at this time. Because
many who, in the late extraordinary season, appeared to
have great religious affections, did not manifest a right
temper of mind, and run into many errors, in the heat of
their zeal ; and because the high affections of many seem
to be so soon come to nothing, and some who seemed to
be mightily raised and swallowed with joy and zeal for a
while, seem to have returned like the dog to his vomit :
hence religious affections in general are grown out of credit
with great numbers, as though true religion did not at all
consist in them. Thus we easily and naturally run from
one extreme to another. A little while ago we were in the
other extreme; there was a prevalent disposition to look
upon all high religious affections as eminent exercises of
true grace, without much inquiry into the nature and
source of those affections, and the manner in which they
arose. If persons did but appear to be indeed very much
moved and raised, so as to be full of religious talk, and
express themselves with great warmth and earnestness, and
to he filled, or to be very full, as the phrases were ; it was
too much the manner, without further examination, to con
clude such persons were full of the Spirit of God, and had
eminent experience of his gracious influences. This was
the extreme which was prevailing three or four years ago.
But of late, instead of esteeming and admiring all religious
affections, without distinction, it is much more prevalent to
reject and discard all without distinction. Herein appears
the subtilty of Satan. While he saw that affections were
much in vogue, knowing the greater part were not versed
in such things, and had not had much experience of great
religious affections, enabling them to judge well, and to dis
tinguish between true and false ; then he knew he could
best play his game, by sowing tares amongst the wheat,
and mingling./aise affections with the works of God's Spirit.
He knew this to be a likely way to delude and eternally
ruin many souls, and greatly to wound religion in the
saints, and entangle them in a dreadful wilderness, and by
and by to bring all religion into disrepute.
But now, when the ill consequences of these false afftc-
tions appear, and it is become very apparent, that some of
those emotions which made a glaring show, and were by
many greatly admired, were in reality nothing ; the devil
sees it to be for his interest to go another way to work,
and to endeavour to his utmost to propagate and establish
a persuasion, that all affections and sensible emotions of
the mind in religion, are nothing at all to be regarded, but
are rather to be avoided, and carefully guarded against, as
things of a pernicious tendency. This he knows is the
way to bring all religion to a mere lifeless formality, and
effectually to shut out the power of godliness and every
thing spiritual. For although to true religion there must
indeed be something else besides affection ; yet true reli
gion consists so much in the affections, that there can be
no true religion without them. He who has no religious
affection, is in a state of spiritual death, and is wholly
destitute of the powerful, quickening, saving influences of
the Spirit of God upon his heart. As there is no true
religion where there is nothing else but affection, so there
is no true religion where there is no religious affection. As
on the one hand, there must be light in the understanding,
as well as an affected fervent heart ; or where there is heat
without light, there can be nothing divine or heavenly in
that heart : so, on the other hand, where there is a kind of
light without heat, a head stored with notions and specu
lations with a cold and unaffected heart, there can be no
thing divine in that light, that knowledge is no true spiritual
knowledge of divine things. If the great things of religion
are rightly understood, they will affect the heart. The
reason why men are not affected by such infinitely great,

2+1

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part I.

important, glorious, and wonderful things, as they often
hear and read of in the word of God, is, undoubtedly,
because they are blind ; if they were not so, it would be
impossible, and utterly inconsistent with human nature,
that their hearts should be otherwise than strongly im
pressed, and greatly moved by such things.
This manner of slighting all religious affections, is the
way exceedingly to harden the hearts of men, to encou
rage them in their stupidity and senselessness, to keep
them in a state of spiritual death as long as they live, and
bring them at last to death eternal. The prevailing preju
dice against religious affections at this day, is apparently of
awful effect to harden the hearts of sinners, to damp the
graces of the saints, to preclude the effect of ordinances,
and hold us down in a state of dulness and apathy ; and
this undoubtedly causes many persons greatly to offend
God, in entertaining mean and low thoughts of the extra
ordinary work he has lately wrought in this land. For
persons to despise and cry down all religious affections, is
the way to shut all religion out of their own hearts, and to
make thorough work in ruining their souls.
They who condemn high affections in others, are cer
tainly not likely to have high affections themselves. And
let it be considered, that they who have but little religious
affection, have certainly but little religion. And they who
condemn others for their religious affections, and have none
themselves, have no religion. There are false affections,
and there are true. A man's having much affection, does
not prove that he has any true religion : but if he has no
affection, it proves that he has no true religion. The right
way, is not to reject all affections, nor to approve all : but
to distinguish between them, approving some and rejecting
others ; separating between the wheat and the chaff, the
gold and the dross, the precious and the vile.
2. If true religion lies much in the affections, we may
infer, that such means are to be desired, as have much
tendency to move the affections. Such books, and such
a way of preaching the word and the administration of
ordinances, and such a way of worshipping God in prayer
and praises, as has a tendency deeply to affect the hearts
of those who attend these means, is much to be desired.
Such kind of means would formerly have been highly
approved, and applauded by the generality of people, as
the most excellent and profitable, and having the greatest
tendency to promote the ends ofthe means of grace. But
the prevailing taste seems of late strangely to be altered :
that pathetic manner of praying and preaching which
would formerly have been admired and extolled, and for
this reason, because it had such a tendency to move the
affections, now, in great multitudes, immediately excites
disgust, and moves no other affections, than those of dis
pleasure and contempt.
Perhaps, formerly, the generality (at least of the com
mon people) were in the extreme of looking too much to
an affectionate address in public performances : but now,
a very great part of the people seem to have gone far into
a contrary extreme. Indeed there may be such means, as
have a great tendency to stir up the passions of weak and
ignorant persons, and yet have none to benefit their souls :
for though they may have a tendency to excite affections,
they have little or none to excite gracious affections. But,
undoubtedly, if the things of religion in the means used,
are treated according to their nature, and exhibited truly,
so as tends to convey just apprehensions and a right judg
ment of them ; the more they have a tendency to move
the affections, the better.
3. If true religion lies much in the affections, hence we
may learn, what great cause we have to be ashamed and
confounded before God, that we are no more affected
with the great things of religion. It appears from what
has been said, that this arises from our having so little
true religion.
God has given to mankind affections, for the same pur
pose as that for which he has given all the faculties and
principles of the human soul, viz. that they might be sub
servient to man's chief end, and the great business for
which God has created him, that is, the business of reli
gion. And yet how common is it among mankind, that

their affections are much more exercised and engaged in
other matters, than in religion ! In matters which con
cern men's worldly interest, their outward delights, their
honour and reputation, and their natural relations, they
have their desires eager, their appetites vehement, their
love warm and affectionate, their zeal ardent; in these
things their hearts are tender and sensible, easily moved,
deeply impressed, much concerned, very sensibly affect
ed, and greatly engaged ; much depressed with grief at
worldly losses, and highly raised with joy at worldly suc
cesses and prosperity. But how insensible and unmoved
are most men, about the great things of another world !
how dull are their affections ! how heavy and hard their
hearts in these matters ! here their love is cold, their de
sires languid, their zeal low, and their gratitude small.
How they can sit and hear of the infinite height, and
depth, and length, and breadth of the love of God in
Christ Jesus ; of his giving his infinitely dear Son to be
offered up a sacrifice for the sins of men, and of the un
paralleled love of the innocent, holy Lamb of God mani
fested in his dying agonies, his bloody sweat, his loud
and bitter cries and bleeding heart ; and all this for ene
mies, to redeem them from deserved, eternal burnings,
and to bring to unspeakable and everlasting joy and
glory ; and yet be cold, heavy, insensible, and regardless !
Where are the exercises of our affections proper, if not
here ? what is it that more requires them ? and what can
be a fit occasion of their lively and vigorous exercise, if
not such as this? Can any thing be set in our view,
greater and more important? any thing more wonderful
and surprising? or that more nearly concerns our interest?
Can we suppose that the wise Creator implanted such
principles in our nature as the affections, to lie still on such
an occasion as this ? Can any Christian, who believes the
truth of these things, entertain such thoughts ?
If we ought ever to exercise our affections at all, and if
the Creator has not unwisely constituted the human na
ture in making these principles a part of it, then they
ought to be exercised about those objects which are most
worthy of them. But is there any thing in heaven or
earth, so worthy to be the objects of our admiration and
love, our earnest and longing desires, hope, rejoicing, and
fervent zeal, as those things which are held forth to us in
the gospel of Jesus Christ ? There not only are things
declared most worthy to affect us, but they are exhibited
in the most affecting manner. The glory and beauty of
the blessed Jehovah, which is most worthy in itself to be
the object of our admiration and love, is there exhibited
in the most affecting manner that can be conceived of; as
it appears shining in all its lustre, in the face of an incar
nate, infinitely loving, meek, compassionate, dying Re
deemer. All the virtues of the Lamb of God, his humi
lity, patience, meekness, submission, obedience, love, and
compassion, are exhibited to our view, in a manner the
most tending to move our affections of any that can be
imagined ; for thev all had their greatest trial, their highest
exercise, and brightest manifestation, when he was in the
most affecting circumstances ; even when he was under
his last sufferings, those unutterable and unparalleled
sufferings which he endured from his tender love and pity
to us. There, also, the hateful nature of our sins is mani
fested in the most affecting manner possible ; as we see
the dreadful effects of them, in what our Redeemer who
undertook to answer for us, suffered for them. And there
we have the most affecting manifestations of God's hatred
of sin, and his wrath and justice in punishing it; as we
see his justice in the strictness and inflexibleness of it, and
his wrath in its terribleness, in so dreadfully punishing our
sins, in one who was infinitely dear to hiin, and loving to
us. So has God disposed things in the affair of our re
demption, and in his glorious dispensations revealed to us
in the gospel, as though every thing were purposely con
trived in such a manner, as to have the greatest possible
tendency to reach our hearts in the most tender part, and
move our affections most sensibly and strongly. How
great cause have we therefore to be humbled to the dust,
that we are no more affected !

Sect. I.

AFFECTIONS RAISED VERY HIGH ARE NO SIGN.

245

PART II.

SHOWING WHAT ARE NO CERTAIN SIGNS THAT RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS ARE TRULY GRACIOUS,
OR THAT THEY ARE NOT.

If any one, on reading what has been just now said, is
ready to acquit himself, and say, " I am not one of those
who have no religious affections ; I am often greatly moved
with the consideration of the great things of religion ; let
him not content himself with this : for, as we ought not to
reject and condemn all affections, as though true religion did
not at all consist in them ; so, on the other hand, we ought
not to approve of all, as though every one that was religious
ly affected had true grace, and was therein the subject of
the saving influences ofthe Spirit of God. Therefore, the
right way is to distinguish, among religious affections, be
tween one sort and another. Let us now endeavour to do
this, by noticing, in the first place, some things, which are
no signs that affections are gracious, or that they are not.

SECT. I.
It is no sign, one way or other, that religious affections are
very great, or raised very high.
Some are ready to condemn all high affection : if per
sons appear to have their religious affections raised to an
extraordinary pitch, they are prejudiced against them, and
determine that they are delusions, without further inquiry.
But if, as before proved, true religion lies very much in
religious affections, then it follows, that if there be a great
deal of true religion, there will be great religious affections ;
if true religion in the hearts of men be raised to a great
height, divine and holy affections will be raised to a great
height. Love is an affection ; but will any Christian say, men
ought not to love God and Jesus Christ in a high degree ?
and will any say, we ought not to have a very great hatred
of sin, and a very deep sorrow for it? or that we ought not
to exercise a high degree of gratitude to God, for the mer
cies we receive of him, and the great things he has done
for the salvation of fallen men ? or that we should not have
very great and strong desires after God and holiness ? Is
there any who will profess, that his affections in religion
are great enough ; and will say, " I have no cause to be
humbled, that I am no more affected with the things of re
ligion than I am ; I have no reason to be ashamed, that I
have no greater exercises of love to God, and sorrow for
sin, and gratitude for the mercies which I have received V
Who is there that will go and bless God, that he is affect
ed enough with what he has read and heard of the wonder
ful love of God to worms and rebels in giving his only-be
gotten Son to die for them, and of the dying love of Christ;
and will pray that he may not be affected with them in any
higher degree, because high affections are improper, and
very unlovely in Christians, being enthusiastical, and ruin
ous to true religion '!
Our text plainly speaks of great and high affections,
when it speaks of rejoicing with joy unspeakable, and full
of glory. Here the most superlative expressions are used,
which language will afford. The Scriptures often require
us to exercise very high affections : thus in the first and
great commandment of the law, there is an accumulation
of expressions, as though words were wanting to express
the degree in which we ought to love God ; " Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul,
with all thy mind, and with all thy strength." So the
saints are called upon to exercise high degrees of joy : Re
joice, says Christ to his disciples, and be exceeding glad,
'Matt. v. 12. So, Psal. lxviii. 3. " Let the righteous be
glad : let them rejoice before God ; yea, let them exceed
ingly rejoice." In the book of Psalms, the saints are often
called upon to shout for joy ; and in Luke vi. 23. to leap
for joy. So they are abundantly called upon to exer

cise high degrees of gratitude for mercies, to praise God
with all their hearts, with hearts lifted up in the ways of
the Lord, their souls magnifying the Lord, singing his
praises, talking of his wondrous works, declaring his doings,
Sfc. We find the most eminent saints in Scripture often
professing high affections. Thus the psalmist mentions his
love as if it were unspeakable ; Psal. cxix. 97. " Oh how
love I thy law !" So he expresses a great degree of hatred
of sin; Psal. cxxxix. 21, 22. " Do not I hate them, O
Lord, that hate thee ? and am not I grieved with them that
rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred."
He also expresses a high degree of sorrow for sin : he
speaks of his sins going over his head, as a heavy burden,
that was too heavy for him ; of his roaring alt the day, his
moisture being turned into the drought of summer, and his
bones being as it were broken with sorrow. So he often
expresses great degrees of spiritual desires, in a multitude
of the strongest expressions which can be conceived of;
such as his longing, his soul thirsting as a dry and thirsty
land where no water is, his panting, his flesh and heart cry
ing out, his soul breaking for the longing it hath, Sfc. He
expresses the exercises of' great and extreme grief for the
sins of others, Psal. cxix. 136. " Rivers of water run down
mine eyes, because they keep not thy law." And verse
53. " Horror hath taken hold upon me, because of the
wicked that forsake thy law." He expresses high exercises
of joy, Psal. xxi. 1. " The king shall joy in thy strength,
and in thy salvation how greatly shall he rejoice !" Psal.
lxxi. 23. " My lips shall greatly rejoice, when I sing unto
thee." Psal. lxiii. 3—7. " Because thy loving-kindness is
better than life : my lips shall praise thee. Thus will I
bless thee, while 1 live : I will lift up my hands in thy
name. My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and
fatness ; and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips :
when I remember thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee
in the night-watches. Because thou hast been my help;
therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice."
The apostle Paul expresses high exercises of affection.
Thus he expresses the exercises of pity and concern for
others' good, even to anguish of heart ; a great, fervent, and
abundant love, earnest and longing desires, and exceeding
joy. He speaks ofthe exultation and triumphs of his soul,
his earnest expectation and hope, his abundant tears, and
the travails of his soul, in pity, grief, earnest desires, godly
jealousy, and fervent zeal, in many places that have been
cited already, and which therefore I need not repeat. John
the Baptist expressed great joy, John iii. 39. Those bless
ed women who anointed the body of Jesus, are represented
as in a very high exercise of religious affection, at the re
surrection of Christ. Matt, xxviii. 8. " And they departed
from the sepulchre, with fear and great joy."
It is often foretold of the church of God, in her future
happy seasons on earth, that they shall exceedingly re
joice : Psal. lxxxix. 15, 16. " They shall walk, O Lord, in
the light of thy countenance. In thy name shall they re
joice all the day : and in thy righteousness shall they be
exalted." Zech. ix. 9. " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion ;
shout, O daughter of Jerusalem : behold, thy King com
eth," &c. The same is represented in other places innu
merable. And because high degrees of joy are the proper
and genuine fruits of the gospel of Christ, therefore the
angel calls this gospel, good tidings of great joy, that
should be to all people.
The saints and angels in heaven, who have religion in it-
highest perfection, are exceedingly affected with what they
behold and contemplate of God's perfections and works.
They are all as a pure heavenly flame of fire, in their love,
and in the greatness and strength of their joy and gratitude.
Their praises are represented, as the voice of many waters,

246

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

and us the. voice of a great thunder. Now the only reason
why their affections are so much higher than the holy affec
tions of saints on earth, is, they see things more according
to their truth, and have their affections more conformed to
the nature of things. And therefore, if religious affections
in men here below, are but of the same nature and kind
with theirs, the higher they are, and the nearer they are to
theirs in degree, the better ; because therein they will be so
much the more conformed to truth, as theirs are.
From these things it certainly appears, that the existence
of religious affections, in a very high degree, is no evidence
that they are not such as have the nature of true religion.
Therefore, they greatly err, who condemn persons as en
thusiasts, merely because their affections are very high.
On the other hand, it is no evidence that religious affec
tions are of a spiritual and gracious nature, because they
are great. It is very manifest by the Holy Scripture, our
sure and infallible rule in things of this nature, that there
are very high religious affections which are not spiritual
and saving. The apostle Paul speaks of affections in the
Galatians which had been exceedingly elevated, but yet he
feared that they were vain, and had come to nothing, Gal.
iv. 15. " Where is the blessedness ye spake of? for I bear
you record, that if it had been possible, you would have
plucked out your own eyes, and have given them to me."
And in the 11th verse he tells them, he was afraid of
them, lest he had bestowed upon them labour in vain. So
the children of Israel were greatly affected with God's
mercy to them, when they had seen how wonderfully he
wrought for them at the Red sea, where they sang God's
praise ; though they soon forgat his works. They were
greatly affected again at mount Sinai, when they saw the
marvellous manifestations God made of himself there;
and seemed mightily engaged in their minds, and with
great forwardness made answer, when God proposed his
holy covenant to them, saying, All that the Lord hath
spoken will we do, and be obedient. But how soon was
there an end to all this mighty forwardness and engaged-
ness of affection ! How quickly were they turned aside
after other gods, rejoicing and shouting around their golden
calf! Great multitudes who were affected with the mira
cle of raising Lazarus from the dead, were elevated to a
high degree, and made a mighty stir when Jesus very soon
after entered into Jerusalem, exceedingly magnifying
Christ, as though the ground were not good enough for
the ass he rode to tread upon; and therefore cut down
branches of palm trees, and strewed them in the way ; yea,
they pulled off their garments, and spread them ; and cried
with loud voices, Hosanna to the son of David, blessed is
he that cometh in the name of the Lord, hosanna in the
highest ; so as to make the whole city ring again, and put
all into an uproar. We learn by the evangelist John, that
the reason why the people made this ado, was because
they were affected with the miracle of raising Lazarus,
John xii. 18. This vast multitude crying Hosanna, gave
occasion to the Pharisees to say, Behold, the world is gone
after him, John xii. 19.— but Christ had at that time but
few true disciples. And how quickly was this fervour at
an end ! All is extinct when this Jesus stands bound,
with a mock robe and a crown of thorns, to be derided,
spit upon, scourged, condemned, and executed. Indeed
there was a great and loud outcry concerning him, among
the multitude then, as well as before ; but of a very dif
ferent kind : it is not then Hosanna, hosanna, but, Cru
cify, crucify. — In a word, it is the concurring voice of all
orthodox divines, that there may be religious affections
raised to a very high degree, and yet nothing of true reli
gion.*

SECT. II.
It is no sign that affections have the nature of true religion,
or that they have not, that they have great effects on the
body.
All affections whatsoever have in some respect or de
gree, an effect on the body. As was observed before, such
» Mr. STonnARn observes, " That common affections are sometimes
stronger than saving." Guide to Christ, p. 21.

is our nature, and such are the laws of union of soul and
body, that the mind can have no lively or vigorous exer
cise, without some effect upon the body. So subject is
the body to the mind, and so much do its fluids, especially
the animal spirits, attend the motions and exercises of the
mind, that there cannot be so much as an intense thought,
without an effect upon them. Yea it is questionable,
whether an embodied soul ever so much as thinks one
thought, or has any exercise at all, but that there is some
corresponding motion or alteration of the fluids, in some
part of the body. But universal experience shows, that
the exercise of the affections have, in a special manner, a
tendency to some sensible effect upon the body. And if
all affections have some effect on the body, we may then
well suppose, the greater those affections, and the more
vigorous their exercises are, (other circumstances being
equal,) the greater will be the effect on the body. Hence
it is not to be wondered at, that very great and strong
exercises of the affections should have great effects on the
body. And therefore, seeing there are very great affections,
both common and spiritual ; hence it is not to be won
dered at, that great effects on the body should arise from
both these kinds of affections. And consequently these
effects are no signs, that the affections they arise from are
of one kind or the other.
Great effects on the body certainly at;e no sure evidences
that affections are spiritual ; for we see them oftentimes
arise from great affections about temporal things, and when
religion is no way concerned in them. And if great affec
tions about things purely natural may have these effects,
I know not by what rule we should determine, that high
affections about religious things, which arise in like manner
from nature, cannot have the like effect.
Nor, on the other hand, do I know of any rule to deter
mine, that gracious affections, when raised as high as any
natural affections, with equally strong and vigorous exer
cises, cannot have a great effect on the body. No such
rule can be drawn from reason : I know of no reason, why
a being affected with a view of God's glory should not
cause the body to faint, as well as being affected with a
view of Solomon's glory. And no such rule has as yet
been produced from the Scripture : none has ever been
found in all the late controversies about things of this na
ture. There is a great power in spiritual affections ; we
read of the power which worketh in Christians,^ and of the
Spirit of God being in them as the Spirit qfpower,\ and
of the effectual working of his power in them,§ yea, of the
working of God's mighty power in them.|| But man's
nature is weak : flesh and blood are represented in Scrip
ture as exceeding weak ; and particularly with respect to
its unfitness for great, spiritual, and heavenly operations
and exercises. (Matt. xxvi. 41. 1 Cor. xv. 43, and 50.)
The text prefixed to this discourse speaks of joy unspeak
able, and full of glory. And who that considers what
man's nature is, and what the nature of the affections are,
can reasonably doubt, but that such unutterable and glori
ous joys, may be too great and mighty for weak dust and
ashes, so as to be considerably overbearing to it ? It is
evident by the Scripture, that discoveries of God's glory,
when given in a great degree, have a tendency, by affecting
the mind, to overbear the body. The Scripture teaches
us, that if these views should be given to such a degree, as
they are given in heaven, the weak frame of the body could
not subsist under it, and that no man can, in that manner,
see God and live. The knowledge which the saints have
of God's beauty and glory in this world, aud those holy
affections that arise from it, are of the same nature and
kind with what the saints are the subjects of in heaven,
differing only in degree and circumstances. What God
gives them here, is a foretaste of heavenly happiness, and
an earnest of their future inheritance. And'who shall limit
God in his giving this earnest, or say he shall give so much
of the inheritance, such a part of the future reward, as an
earnest of the whole, and no more ? And seeing God has
taught us in his word, that the whole reward is such, that
it would at once destroy the body, is it not too bold a
thing for us to set bounds to the sovereign God ; or to say,
that in giving the earnest of this reward, he shall never

t Eph. ii. 7.
§ Eph. iii. 7,

t 2 Tim. i. 7.
Eph. i. 19.

Sect. III.

FLUENCY AND FERVOUR ARE NO SIGNS.

247

give so much of it, as in the least to diminish the strength
of the body, when God has no where thus limited him
self? The psalmist speaking of his vehement religious affec
tions, and of an effect in his flesh or body, besides what
was in his soul, expressly distinguishes one from the other,
Psal. lxxxiv. 2. " My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for
the courts of the Lord : my heart and my flesh crieth out
for the living God." Here is a plain distinction between
the heart and the flesh, as being each affected. So Psal.
lxiii. 1. " My soul thirsteth for tnee, my flesh longeth for
thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is." Here
also is an evident, designed distinction between the soul
and the flesh.
The prophet Habakkuk speaks of his body being over
borne by a sense ofthe majesty of God, Hab. iii. 16.
" When I heard my belly trembled : my lips quivered at
the voice : rottenness entered into my bones, and I trem
bled in myself." So the psalmist, Psal. cxix. 120 " My
flesh trembleth for fear of thee."
That such ideas of God's glory as are given sometimes
even in this world, have a tendency to overbear the body,
is evident, because the Scripture gives us an account, that
this has actually been the effect of those external mani
festations which God made of himself to some of the
saints, in order to give them an idea of his majesty and
glory. Daniel giving an account of an external repre
sentation of the glory of Christ, says, Dan. x. 8. " And
there remained no strength in me ; for my comeliness was
turned into corruption, and I retained no strength." And
the apostle John, giving an account of a similar manifesta
tion made to him, says, Rev. i. 17. " And when I saw
him, I fell at his feet as dead." It is in vain to say here,
that these were only external manifestations of the glory of
Christ ; for though this be true, yet the use of these re
presentations, was to give an idea of the thing represented,
the true divine glory and majesty of Christ. They were
made use of only as significations of this spiritual glory,
and thus undoubtedly they received and improved them,
and were affected by them. According to the end for
which God intended these outward signs, they received by
them a great and lively apprehension of the real glory and
majesty of God's nature, of which they were signs; and
thus were greatly affected, their souls swallowed up, and
their bodies overborne. And, I think, they are very bold
and daring, who will say that God cannot, or shall not,
give the like affecting apprehensions of the same real glory
of his nature to none of his saints, without the intervention
of such external shadows.
Before I leave this head, I would further observe, that it
is plain the Scripture often makes use of bodily effects to
express the strength of holy and spiritual affections ; such
as trembling? groaning, \ being sick, J crying out, § pant
ing, || and fainting.^ Now it it be supposed, that these
are only figurative expressions to represent the degree of
affection ; yet I hope all will allow, that they are suitable
figures to represent the high degree of those spiritual af
fections ; which I see not how they would be, if those
spiritual affections are the proper effects and sad tokens
of false affections, and the delusion of the devil. I cannot
think, God would commonly make use of things which
are very alien from spiritual affections, and are shrewd
marks of the hand of Satan, and smell strong of the bot
tomless pit, as beautiful figures, to represent the high de
gree of holy and heavenly affections.

SECT. III.
It is no sign that affections are truly gracious, or that they
are not, that they cause those who have them, to be fluent,
fervent, and abundant in talking of religious things.
There are many persons, who, if they see this in others,
are greatly prejudiced against them. Their being so full of
talk, is with them a sufficient ground to condemn them as
Pharisees, and ostentatious hypocrites. On the other
hand, there are many who, if they see this effect in any,

» Psal. cxix. 120. Ezra ix. 4. Isa. lxvi. 2. 5, Hab. iii. 16. || Psal. xxxviii. 10. and xliii. 1. and cxix 131.
t Rom. viii. 26. J Cant ii. 5. and v. 8. § Psal. lxxxiv. 2. -_ Psallxxxiv. 2. and cxix. 81.

are very ignorantly and imprudently forward, at once to
determine that they are the true children of God, under
the saving influences of his Spirit, and speak of it as a
great evidence of a new creature. Such an one's mouth,
say they, is now opened: he used to be slow to speak; but
now he is full and free : he is free now to open his heart,
and tell his experiences, and declare the praises of God ; it
comes from him, as free as water from a fountain ; and the
like. . And especially are they captivated into a confident
persuasion that they nre savingly wrought upon, if they are
not only free and abundant, but very affectionate and
earnest in their talk.
But this is the fruit of little judgment, and short ex
perience ; as events abundantly show : and is a mistake
into which persons often run, through their trusting their
own wisdom, and making their own notions their rule, in
stead of the Holy Scripture. Though the Scripture be full
of rules, both how we should judge of our own state, and
also how we should be conducted in our own opinion of
others ; yet we have no where any rule, by which to judge
ourselves or others to be in a good estate, from any such
effect : for this is but the religion of the tongue, and what
is in the Scripture represented by the leaves of a tree,
which — though the tree ought not to be without them,
yet — are no where given as an evidence of the goodness of
the tree. "
That persons are disposed to be abundant in talking of
religious things, may be from a good cause, and it may be
from a bad one. It may be because their hearts are very
full of holy affections ; for out ofthe abundance of the heart,
the mouth speaketh : and it may be because persons' hearts
are very full of affection which is not holy ; for still out of
the abundance ofthe heart the mouth speaketh. It is very
much the nature of the affections, of whatever kind, and
whatever objects they are exercised about, if they are
strong, to dispose persons to be very much in speaking of
that with which they are affected ; and not only to speak
much, but to speak very earnestly and fervently. And
therefore persons talking abundantly and very fervently
about the things of religion, can be an evidence of no more
than this, that they are very much affected with the things
of religion; but this may be (as has been already shown)
without any grace. That which men are greatly affected
with, while the high affection lasts, they will be earnestly
engaged about, and will be likely to show that earnestness
in their talk and behaviour ; as the greater part of the Jews,
in all Judah and Galilee, did for a while, about John the
Baptist's preaching and baptism, when they were willing
for a season to rejoice in his light : a mighty stir was made
all over the land, and among all sorts of persons, about
this great prophet and his ministry. And so the multitude,
in like manner, often manifested a great earnestness, a
mighty engagedness of spirit, in every thing that was ex
ternal, about Christ, his preaching and miracles, being
astonished at his doctrine, anon with joy receiving the word.
They followed him sometimes night and day, leaving
meat, drink, and sleep to hear him ; once they followed
him into the. wilderness, fasting three days going to hear
him ; sometimes extolling him to the clouds, saying, Never
man spake like this man ! being fervent and earnest in what
they said. But what did these things come to, in the
greater part of them ?
A person may be over full of talk of his own experi
ences; falling upon it everywhere, and in all companies ;
and when so, it is rather a dark sign than a good one. A
tree that is over full of leaves, seldom bears much fruit.
And a cloud, though to appearance very pregnant and full
of water, if it brings with it over much wind, seldom af
fords much rain to the dry and thirsty earth : which very
thing the Holy Spirit is pleased several times to make use
of, to represent a great show of religion with the mouth,
without answerable fruit in the life, Prov. xxv. 14. " Whoso
boasteth himself of a false gift, is like clouds and wind with-
outiain." And the apostle Jude, speaking of some in the
primitive times, that crept inunawares among the saints, and
having a great show of religion, were for a while not sus
pected, These are clouds (says he) without water, carried
about of winds, Jude ver. 4. and 12. And the apostle

248

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

Peter, speaking of the same, says, 2 Pet. ii. 17. " These
are clouds without water, carried with a tempest." False
affections, if they are equally strong, are much more for
ward to declare themselves, than true : because it is the
nature of false religion to affect show and observation ; as
it was with the Pharisees*

SECT. IV.
It is no sign that affections are gracious, or- that they are
otherwise, that persons did not excite them by their own
endeavours.
There are many in these days, who condemn all affec
tions which are excited in a way that seems not to be the
natural consequence of the faculties and principles of hu
man nature, in such circumstances, and under such means;
but to be from the influence of some extrinsic and super
natural power upon their minds. How greatly has the
doctrine of the inward experience or sensible perceiving of
the immediate power and operation of the Spirit of God,
been reproached and ridiculed by many of late ! They
say, the manner of the Spirit of God, is to co-operate in a
silent, secret, and undiscernible way with the use of
means, and our own endeavours ; so that there is no dis
tinguishing by sense, between the influences of the Spirit
of God, and the natural operations of the faculties of our
own minds.
And it is true, that for any to expect to receive the
saving influences of the Spirit of God, while they neglect
a diligent improvement of the appointed means of grace,
is unreasonable presumption. And to expect that the
Spirit of God will savingly operate upon their minds,
without the use of means, as subservient to the effect, is
enthusiastical. It is also undoubtedly true, that the Spirit
of God is very various in the manner and circumstances
of his operations, and that sometimes he operates in a way
more secret and gradual, and from smaller beginnings, than
at others.
But if there be indeed a power, entirely different from
and beyond our power — or the power of all means and in
struments, and above the power of nature — which is re
quisite in order to the production of saving grace in the
heart, according to the general profession of the country ;
then certainly, it is in no wise unreasonable to suppose,
that this effect should very frequently be produced after
such a manner, as to make it very manifest and sensible,
that it is so. If grace be indeed owing to the powerful
and efficacious operation of an extrinsic agent, or divine
efficient out of ourselves, why is it unreasonable to sup
pose, it should seem to be so, to them who are the sub
jects of it ? Is it a strange thiDg, that it should seem to
be as it is ? When grace in the heart indeed is not pro
duced by our strength, nor is the effect of the natural
power of our own faculties, or any means or instruments,
but is properly the workmanship and production of the
Spirit of the Almighty, is it a strange thing, that it should
seem to them who are subjects of it, agreeable to truth,
and not contrary to truth ? If persons tell of effects that
seem to them not to be from the natural power or opera
tion of their minds, but from the supernatural power of
some other agent, should it at once be looked upon as a
sure evidence of their being under a delusion, because
things seem to them to be as they are ? For this is the
objection which is made : it is looked upon as a clear evi
dence, that the apprehensions and affections that many
persons have, are not really from such a cause, because
they seem to them to be from that cause. They declare that
what they are conscious of, seems to them evidently not to
be from themselves, but from the mighty power of the
Spirit of God ; and others from hence condemn them, and
* That famous experimental divine Mr. Shephard, says, " A Pharisee's
trumpet shall be heard to the town's end ; when simplicity walks through
the town unseen. Hence a man will sometimes covertly commend himself.
(and mi/se/f ever comes in,) and tells you a long story of conversion : and
an hundred to one if some lie or other slip not out with it Why, the se
cret meaning is, I pray admire me. Hence complain of wants and weak
nesses; pray think what a broken-hearted Christian Iam."—Parab. of
the Ten Virgins. Part I. page 179, 180.
And holy Mr. Flavel says thus, " O reader, if thy heart were right with
God, and thon didst not cheat thyself with a vain profession, thou wouldst
have frequent business with God, which thou wouldst be loth thy dearest

determine that what they experience is not from the Spirit
of God, but from themselves, or from the devil. Thus
unreasonably are multitudes treated at this day, by their
neighbours. If it be indeed so, as the Scripture abundantly teaches,
that grace in the soul is so the effect of God's power, that
it is fitly compared to those effects, which are farthest from
being owing to any strength in the subject, such as gener
ation, or a being begotten, and resurrection, or a being
raised from the dead, and creation, or a being brought out
of nothing into being, and that is an effect wherein the
mighty power of God is greatly glorified, and the exceed
ing greatness of his power manifested ;+ then what ac
count can be given of it, that the Almighty, in so great a
work of his power, should so carefully hide his power,
that the subjects of it should be able to discern nothing of
it ? or what reason or revelation have any to determine
that he does so? If we may judge by the Scripture, this
is not agreeable to God's manner, in his operations and
dispensations ; but on the contrary, it is God's manner, in
the great works of his power and mercy, to make his hand
visible, and his power conspicuous, and men's depend
ence on him most evident, that no flesh should glory in
his presence,! that God alone might be exalted,§ and that
the excellency of the power might be of God and not of
man,|| and that Christ's power might be manifested in our
weakness,1T and none might say, mine own hand hath
saved me.** So it was in most of those temporal salva
tions which God wrought for Israel of old, which were
types of the salvation of his people from their spiritual
enemies. So, in the redemption of Israel from their
Egyptian bondage; he redeemed them with a strong
hand, and an outstretched arm ; and that his power might
be the more conspicuous, he suffered Israel first to be
brought into the most helpless and forlorn circumstances.
So, in the great redemption by Gideon ; God would have
his army diminished to a handful, and they without
anv other arms, than trumpets, and lamps, and earthen
pitchers. So in the deliverance of Israel from Goliath, by
a stripling, with a sling and a stone. So it was in that
great work of God, his calling the Gentiles, after that the
world by wisdom knew not God, and all the endeavours
of philosophers to reform the world had failed, and it was
become abundantly evident that the world had no effectual
help but the mighty power of God. And so it was in
most of the conversions of particular persons recorded in
the history of the New Testament : they were not affected
in that silent, secret, gradual, and insensible manner, which
is now insisted on ; but with those manifest evidences of
a supernatural power, wonderfully and suddenly causing a
great change, which in these days are looked upon as cer
tain signs of delusion and enthusiasm.
The apostle in Eph. i. 18, 19. speaks of God enlight
ening the minds of Christians, and so bringing them to
believe in Christ, to the end that they might know the ex
ceeding greatness of his power to them who believe. The
words are, "The eyes of your understanding being en
lightened : that ye may know what is the hope of his call
ing, and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in
the saints, and what is the exceeding greatness of his
power to us-ward who believe, according to the working
of his mighty power," &c. Now when the apostle speaks
of their being thus the subjects of his power, in their en
lightening and effectual calling, to the end that they might
know what his mighty power was to them who believe, he
can mean nothing else, than that they might know by expe
rience. But if the saints know this power by experience,
then they feel it, discern it, and are conscious of it ; as
sensibly distinguishable from the natural operations of
their own minds. But this is not agreeable to a notion
of God operating so secretly, and undiscernibly, that it
cannot be known they are the subjects of any extrinsic in-
friend, or the wife of thy bosom, should be privy to. Non est religio. ubi
omnia patent. Religion doth not lie open to all, to the eyes of men. Ob
served duties maintain our credit, but secret duties maintain our life. It
was the saying of a heathen, about his secret correspondency with his
friend, What need the world to be acquainted with it ? Thou and I are
theatre enough to each other. There are inclosed pleasures in religion,
which none but renewed spiritual souls do feelingly understand." Flavel's
Touchstone of Sincerity, chap. II. sect 2.
t Eph. i. 17—20. t I Cor. i. 27, 28, 29. 5 Isa. i. II -17.
|| 2 Cor. iv. 7. 12 Cor. xii. 9. *» Judg. vii. 2.

Sect. V. THAT THEY COME WITH TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE, IS NO SIGN.

2-19

fluence at all, otherwise than as they may argue it from
scripture assertions; which is a different thing from know
ing it by experience. So that it is very unreasonable and
unscriptural, to detei-mine that affections are not from the
gracious operations of God's Spirit, because they are
sensibly not from the persons themselves who are the sub
jects of them. •
On the other hand, it is no evidence that affections are
gracious, that they are not purposely produced by those
who are the subjects of them, or that they arise in their
minds in a manner which they cannot account for.
There are some who make this an argument in their
own favour, when speaking of what they have expe
rienced : "lam sure I did not make it myself: it was a
fruit of no contrivance or endeavour of mine; it came
when I thought nothing of it ; if I might have the world
for it, I cannot make it again when I please." And hence
they determine, that what they have experienced, must be
from the mighty influence of the Spirit of God, and is of
a saving nature ; but very ignorantly, and without grounds.
What they have experienced may indeed not be from
themselves directly, but may be from the operation of an
invisible agent, some spirit besides their own : but it does
not thence follow, that it was from the Spirit of God.
There are other spirits who have influence on the minds
of men, besides the Holy Ghost. We are directed not to
believe everv spirit, but to try the spirits, whether they be
of God. There are many false spirits, exceeding busy
with men, who often transform themselves into angels of
light, and in many wonderful ways, with great subtlety
and power, mimic the operations of the Spirit of God.
And there are many of Satan's operations, which are very
distinguishable from the voluntary exercises of men's own
minds. They are so, in those dreadful and horrid sugges
tions, and blasphemous injections, with which he follows
many persons ; also in vain and fruitless frights and terrors,
of which he is the author. And the power of Satan may
be. as immediate and as evident in false comforts and joys,
as in terrors and horrid suggestions ; and oftentimes is so
in fact. It is not in men s power to put themselves into
such raptures as those of the Anabaptists in Germany, and
many other raving enthusiasts like them.
Besides, it is to be considered, that persons may have
impressions on their minds, which may not be of their own
producing, nor from an evil spirit, but from a common
influence of the Spirit of God : and the subjects of such
impressions, may be of the number of those we read of,
Heb. vi. 4, 5. " that are once enlightened, and taste of the
heavenly gift, and are made partakers of the Holy Ghost,
and taste the good word of God, and the powers ofthe world
to come ;" and yet may be wholly unacquainted with
those " better things that accompany salvation." And
where neither a good nor evil spirit have any immediate
hand, persons, especially such as are of a weak and
vapoury habit of body, and the brain easily susceptive of
impressions, may have strange apprehensions and imagina-
, tions, and strong affections attending them, unaccountably
arising, which are not voluntarily produced by themselves.
We see that such persons are liable to such impressions,
about temporal things; and there is equal reason, why
they should about spiritual things. As a person asleep
has dreams, of which he te not the voluntary author; so
may such persons, in like manner, be the subjects of in
voluntary impressions, when they are awake.

SECT. V.
It is no sign that religious affections are truly holy and
spiritual, or that they are not, that they come to the mind
in a remarkable manner with texts of Scripture.
It is no sign that affections are not gracious, that they
are occasioned by scriptures so coming to mind ; provided
it be the Scripture itself— or the truth which the Scripture
so brought contains and teaches— that is the foundation of
the affection, and not merely or mainly the sudden and
unusual manner of its coming to the mind.
But on the other hand, neither is it any sign that affec
tions are gracious, that they arise on occasion of scriptures

brought suddenly and wonderfully to the mind ; whether
those affections be fear or hope, joy or sorrow, or any other.
Some seem to look upon this as a good evidence that their
affections are saving, especially if the affections excited
are hope or joy, or any other which are pleasing and de
lightful. They will mention it as an evidence that all is
right, that their experience came with the word, and will
say, " There were such and such sweet promises brought
to my mind : they came suddenly, as if they were spoke
to me : I had no hand in bringing such a text to my own
mind ; I was not thinking of any thing leading to it ; it
came all at once, so that I was surprised. I had not
thought of it a long time before ; I did not know at first
that it was Scripture ; I did not remember that ever I had
read it." And it may be they will add, " One scripture
came flowing in after another, and so texts all over the
Bible, the most sweet and pleasant, and the most apt and
suitable, which could be devised ; and filled me full as I
could hold : I could not but stand and admire : the tears
flowed ; I was full of joy, and could not doubt any longer."
And thus they think they have undoubted evidence, that
their affections must be from God, and of the right kind,
and their state good : but without any good grounds.
How come they by any such rule, as that if any affections
or experiences arise with promises, and comfortable texts
of Scripture, unaccountably brought to mind, without their
recollection, or if a great number of sweet texts follow one
another in a chain, that this is a certain evidence their ex
periences are saving? Where is any such rule to be found
in the Bible, the great and only sure directory in things of
this nature ?
What deceives many ofthe less knowing and considerate
sort of people, in this matter, seems to be this ; that the
Scripture is the word of God, and has nothing in it which
is wrong, but is pure and perfect : and therefore, those ex
periences which come from the Scripture must be right.
But then it should be considered, affections may arise on
occasion of the Scripture, and not properly come from, as
the genuine fruit of the Scripture ; but from an abuse of
it. All that can be argued from the purity and perfection
of the word of God, with respect to experiences, is this,
that those experiences which are agreeable to the word of
God, are right, and cannot be otherwise : and not that
those affections must be right, which arise on occasion of
the word of God coming to the mind.
What evidence is there that the devil cannot bring texts
of Scripture to the mind, and misapply them, to deceive
persons ? There seems to be nothing in this which exceeds
the power of Satan. It is no work of such mighty power,
to bring sounds or letters to persons' minds. If Satan has
power to bring any words or sounds at all to persons' minds,
he may have power to bring words contained in the Bible.
There is no higher sort of power required in men, to make
the sounds which express the words of a text of Scripture,
than to make the sounds which express the words of an
idle story or song. And so the same power in Satan which
is sufficient to renew one of those in the mind, is sufficient
to. renew the other : the different signification, which de
pends wholly on custom, alters not the case, as to ability
to make or revive the sounds or letters. Or will any sup
pose, that texts of Scripture are such sacred things, that the
devil durst not abuse them, nor touch them? In this also
they are mistaken. He who was bold enough to lay hold
on Christ himself, and carry him hither and thither, into
the wilderness, into a high mountain, and to a pinnacle
of the temple, is not afraid to touch the Scripture, and
abuse that for his own purposes. For, at the same time
that he was so bold with Christ, he brought one scripture
and another to deceive and tempt him. And if Satan did
presume, and was permitted to put Christ himself in mind
of texts of Scripture to tempt him, what reason have we to
determine, that he dare not, or will not be permitted, to
put wicked men in mind of texts of Scripture, to tempt
and deceive them ? And if Satan may thus abuse one text
of Scripture, so he may another. Its being a very excel
lent place of Scripture, a comfortable and precious promise,
alters not the case, as to his courage or ability. And if he
can bring one comfortable text to the mind, so he may a
thousand ; and may choose out such scriptures as tend
most to serve his purpose. He may heap up scripture pro-

250

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

mises, tending, according to the perverse application he
makes of them, wonderfully to remove the rising doubts,
and to confirm the false joy and confidence, of a poor de
luded sinner.
We know the devil's instruments, corrupt and heretical
teachers, can and do pervert the Scripture, to their own and
other's damnation, 2 Pet. iii. 16. We see they have the free
use of Scripture, in every part of it ; there is no text so
precious and sacred, but they are permitted to abuse it, to
the eternal ruin of souls ; and there are no weapons they
use, with which they do more execution. There is no
manner of reason to determine, that the devil is not per
mitted thus to abuse the Scripture, as well as his instru
ments. For when the latter do it, they do it as his instru
ments, through his instigation and influence : and doubt
less the devil s servants do but follow their master, and do
the same work that he does himself.
And as the devil can abuse the Scripture, to deceive and
destroy men, so may men's own folly and corruptions.
Men's own hearts are deceitful like the devil, and use the
same means to deceive. So that it is evident, that persons
may have high affections of hope and joy, arising on occa
sion of texts of Scripture, yea precious promises coming
suddenly and remarkably to their minds, as though they
were spoken to them, yea a great multitude of such texts
following one another in a wonderful manner ; and yet
all this be no argument that these affections are divine,
or that they are any other than the effects of Satan's de
lusions. I would further observe, that persons may have raised
and joyful affections, which may come with the word of
God, and not only so, but from the word, and those affec
tions not be from Satan, nor yet properly from the corrup
tions of their own hearts, but from some influence of the
Spirit of God with the word, and yet have nothing of the
nature of true and saving religion in them. Thus the
stony-ground hearers had great joy from the word ; yea,
arising from the word, as growth from a seed ; and their
affections had, in their appearance, a very great and exact
resemblance with those represented by the growth on the
good ground — the difference not appearing, until it was
discovered by the consequences in a time of trial — and yet
there was no saving religion in these affections.*

SECT. VI.
It is no evidence that religions affections are saving, or
that they are otherwise, that there is an appearance of
love in them.
There are no professing Christians who pretend, that
this is an argument against the truth and saving nature of
religious affections. But on the other hand, there are some
who suppose, it is a good evidence that affections are from
the sanctifying and saving influences of the Holy Ghost.
Their argument is, that Satan cannot love ; this affection
being directly contrary to the devil, whose very nature is
enmity and malice. And it is true, that nothing is more
excellent, heavenly, and divine, than a spirit of true chris
tian love to God and men : it is more excellent than know
ledge, or prophecy, or miracles, or speaking with the tongue
of men and angels. It is the chief of the graces of God's
Spirit, and the life, essence, and sum of all true religion ;
and that by which we are most conformed to heaven,
and most contrary to hell and the devil. But yet it is ill
arguing from hence, that there are no counterfeits of it. It
may be observed, that the more excellent any thing is, the
more will be the counterfeits of it. Thus there are many
more counterfeits of silver and gold, than of iron and cop
per : there are many false diamonds and rubies, but who
goes about to counterfeit common stones ? Though the
more excellent things are, the more difficult it is to make
* Mr. Stoddard, in bis Guide to Christ, speaks of it as a common thing,
for persons while in a natural condition, and before they have ever truly
accepted of Christ, to have scripture promises come to them, with a great
deal of refreshing; which they take as tokens of God's love, and hope
that God has accepted them ; and so are confident of their good estate, page
8, 9. Impression anno 1735.
t Agreeable to this Mr. Stoddard observes, in his Guide to Christ, that
some sinners have -pangs of affection, and give .an account that they find a

any thing like them, in their essential nature and internal
virtue ; yet the more manifold will the counterfeits be, and
the more will art and subtlety be exercised and displayed,
in an exact imitation of the outward appearance. Thus
there is the greatest danger of being cheated in buying
medicines that are most excellent and sovereign, though it
be most difficult to imitate them, with any thing of the
like value and virtue, and their counterfeits" are good for
nothing when we have them. So it is with christian vir
tues and graces ; the subtlety of Satan, and men's deceit
ful hearts, are wont chiefly to be exercised in counter
feiting those that are in highest repute. So there are
perhaps no graces that have more counterfeits than love
and humility ; these being virtues wherein the beauty of a
true Christian especially appears.
But with respect to love, it is plain by the Scripture,
that persons may have a kind of religious love, and yet
have no saving grace. Christ speaks of many professing
Christians whose love will not continue, and so shall fail
of salvation, Matt. xxiv. 12, 13. " And because iniquity
shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold. But lie
that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved."
Which latter words plainly show, that those spoken of be
fore, whose love shall not endure to the end, but wax cold,
should not be saved. Persons may seem to have love to
God and Christ, yea, to have very strong and violent af
fections of this nature, and yet have no grace. This was
evidently the case with many graceless Jews, such as cried
Jesus up so high, following him day and night, without
meat, drink, or sleep ; such as said, Lord. I will follow
thee whithersoever thou goest, and cried, Hosanna to the
son of David, f — The apostle seems to intimate, that there
were many in his days, who had a counterfeit love to
Christ, in Eph. vi. 24. " Grace be with all them that love
our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity." The last word, in the
original, signifies in incorruption ; which shows, that the
apostle was sensible there were many who had a kind of
love to Christ, which was not pure and spiritual.
So also christian love to the people of God may be
counterfeited. It is evident by the Scripture, that there
may be strong affections of this kind, without saving
frace ; as there were in the Galatians towards the apostle
'aul, when they were ready to pluck out their eyes and
give them to him ; although the apostle expresses his fear
that their affections were come to nothing, and that he
had bestowed upon them labour in vain. Gal. iv. 11, 15.

SECT. VII.
Persons having religious affections of many kinds, accom
panying one another, is not sufficient to determine whether
they have any gracious affections or no.
Though false religion is wont to be maimed and mon
strous, and not to have that entireness and symmetry of
parts, which is to be seen in true religion ; yet there may
be a great variety of false affections together, that may re
semble gracious affections.
It is evident that there are counterfeits of all kinds of
gracious affections ; as of love to God, and love to the
brethren, as just now observed ; so of godly sorrow for
sin, as in Pharaoh, Saul, Ahab, and the children of Israel
in the wilderness ; J and of the/ear of God, as in the Sa
maritans, who feared the Lord, and served their own gods
at the same time, (2 Kings xvii. 32, 33.) and those enemies
of God we read of, Psal. lxvi. 3. who through the great
ness of God's power, submit themselves to him, or, as it is
in the Hebrew, lie unto him, i. e. yield a counterfeit re
verence and submission : so of a gracious gratitude, as in
the children of Israel, who sang God's praise at the Red
sea, (Psal. cvi. 12 ) and Naaman the Syrian, after his mi
raculous cure of his leprosy, (2 Kings v. 15, &c.)
spirit of love to God, and of their aiming at the glory of God, having that
which has a great resemblance of saving grace ; and that sometimes tbeir
common affections are stronger than saving. And supposes, that sometimes
natural men may have such violent pangs of false affection to God, that they
may think themselves willing to he damned. Page 21 , and 65.
I Exod. ix. 27. 1 Sara. xxiv. 16, 17. and xxvi. 21. 1 Kings xxi. 27. Num. xiv.
39, 40.

Sect. VII.

RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS OF MANY KINDS, ARE NO SIGN.

251

So of spiritual joy, as in the stony-ground hearers, (Matt.
xiii. 20.) and particularly many of John the Baptist's
hearers, (John v. 35.) So of zeal, as in Jehu, (2 Kings
x. 6.) and in Paul before his conversion, (Gal. i. 14. Phil.
iii. 6.) and the unbelieving Jews, (Acts xxii. 3. Rom. x. 2.)
So graceless persons may have earnest religious desires,
which may be like Balaam's desires, which he expresses
under an extraordinary view of the happy state of God's
people, as distinguished from all the rest of the world,
(Num. xxiii. 9, 10.) They may also have a strong hope of
eternal life, as the Pharisees had.
And as men, while in a state of nature, are capable of a
resemblance of all kinds of religious affection, so nothing
hinders but that they may have many of them together.
And what appears in fact, abundantly evinces that it is
thus very often. Commonly, when false affections are
raised high, many of them attend each other. The mul
titude that attended Christ into Jerusalem, after that
great miracle of raising Lazarus, seem to be moved
with many religious affections at once, and all in a
high degree. They seem to be filled with admiration;
and there was a show of high affection of love; also a
great degree of reverence, in their laying their garments on
the ground for Christ to tread upon. They express great
gratitude to him, for the great and good works he had
wrought, praising him with loud voices for his salvation ;
and earnest desires of the coming of God's kingdom, which
they supposed Jesus was now about to set up ; and they
showed great hopes and raised expectations of it, expecting
it would immediately appear. Hence they were filled with
joy, by which they were so animated in their acclamations,
as to make the whole city ring again with the noise of
them ; and they appeared great in their zeal and forward
ness to attend Jesus, and assist him without further delay,
now in the time of the great feast of the passover, to set up
his kingdom.
It is easy from the nature of the affections, to give an
account why, when one affection is raised very high, that
it should excite others ; especially if the affection which is
raised high, be that of counterfeit love, as it was in the
multitude who cried Hosanna. This will naturally draw
many other affections after it. For, as was observed be
fore, love is the chief of the affections, and as it were, the
fountain of them. Let us suppose a person, who has been
for some time in great exercise and terror through fear of
hell ; his heart weakened with distress and dreadful ap
prehensions, upon the brink of despair ; and who is all at
once delivered, by being firmly made to believe, through
some delusion of Satan, that God has pardoned him, and
accepts him as the object of his dear love, and promises
him eternal life. Suppose also, that this is done through
some vision, or strong imagination suddenly excited in
him, of a person with a beautiful countenance smiling on
him — with arms open, and with blood dropping down —
which the person conceives to be Christ, without any
other enlightening of the understanding to give a view of
the spiritual, divine excellency of Christ and his fulness,
and of the way of salvation revealed in the gospel. Or,
suppose some voice or words coming as if they were spoken
to him, such as these, " Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be
forgiven thee ;" or, " Fear not, it is the Father's good
pleasure to give you the kingdom," which he takes to be
immediately spoken by God to him, though there was no
E receding acceptance of Christ, or closing of the heart with
im : I say, if we should suppose such a case, what various
passions would naturally crowd at once, or one after
another, into such a person's mind ! It is easy to be ac
counted for, from the mere principles of nature, that a
person's heart, on such an occasion, should be raised up to
the skies with transports of joy, and be filled with fervent
affection to that imaginary God or Redeemer, who, he
supposes, has thus rescued him from the jaws of such
dreadful destruction, and received him with such endear
ment, as a peculiar favourite. Is it any wonder that now
he should be filled with admiration and gratitude, his
* " Associating with godly men does not prove that a man has grace :
Ahithophel was David's companion. Sorrows for the afflictions of the
church, and desires for the conversion of souls, do not prove it. These

mouth should be opened, and be full of talk about what
he has experienced ? That, for a while, he should think
and speak of scarce any thing else, should seem to mag
nify that God who has done so much for him, call upon
others to rejoice with him, appear with a cheerful counte
nance, and talk with a loud voice ? That however, before
his deliverance, he was full of quarrellings against the
justice of God, now it should be easy for him to submit to
God, own his unworthiness, cry out against himself, appear
to be very humble before God, and Tie at his feet as tame
as a lamb ; now confessing his unworthiness, and crying
out, Why me ? why me ? Thus Saul, who, when Samuel
told him that God had appointed him to be king, makes
answer, " Am not I a Benjamite, of the smallest of the
tribes of Israel, and my family the least of all the families
ofthe tribe of Benjamin ? wherefore then speakest thou so
to me V Much in the language of David, the true saint,
2 Sam. vii. 18. " Who am I, and what is my father's
house, that thou hast brought me hitherto ?" Is it to be
wondered at, that now he should delight to be with them
who acknowledge and applaud his happy circumstances,
and that he should love all such as esteem and admire him
and what he has experienced ? That he should have
violent zeal against all who make nothing of such things,
be disposed openly to separate, and as it were to proclaim
war with all who are not of his party ? That he should
now glory in his sufferings, and be very much for con
demning and censuring all who seem to doubt, or make
any difficulty of these things ? And, while the warmth of
his affections last, that he should be mighty forward to
take pains, and to deny himself, and to promote the inte
rest of a party favouring such things ? Or that he should
seem earnestly desirous to increase the number of them, as
the Pharisees compassed sea and land to make one prasc-
lyte ?* I might mention many other things, which will
naturally arise in such circumstances. He must have but
slightly considered human nature, who thinks that such
things as these cannot arise in this manner, without any
supernatural interposition of divine power.
As from true divine love flow all Christian affections,
so from counterfeit love naturally flow other false affec
tions. In both cases, love is the fountain, and the other
affections are the streams. The various faculties, prin
ciples, and affections of the human nature, are as it were
many channels from one fountain. If diere be sweet
water in the fountain, sweet water will flow out into those
various channels; but if the water in the fountain be
poisonous, then poisonous streams will also flow into all
those channels. So that the channels and streams will be
alike, corresponding one with another; but the great dif
ference will lie in the nature of the water. Or man's
nature may be compared to a tree with many branches,
coming from one root : if the sap in the root be good, there
will also be good sap distributed throughout the branches,
and the fruit brought forth will be good and wholesome ;
but if the sap in the root and stock be poisonous, so it
will be in many branches, and the fruit will be deadly.
The tree in both cases may be alike ; there may be an
exact resemblance in shape ; but the difference is found
only in eating the fruit. It is thus, in some measure at
least, oftentimes between saints and hypocrites. There is
sometimes a very great similitude between true and false
experiences in their appearance, and in what is expressed
by the subjects of them ; the difference between them is
much like the difference between the dreams of Pharaoh's
chief butler and baker. They seemed to be much alike,
insomuch that when Joseph interpreted the chief butler's
dream, that he-should be delivered from his imprisonment,
and restored to the king's favour, and his honourable office
in the palace, the chief baker had raised hopes and ex
pectations, and told his dream also. But he was wofully
disappointed; for though his dream was so much like
the happy and well-boding dream of his companion, yet it
was quite contrary in its issue.

things may be found in carnal men, and so can be no evidences of grace.'
Stoddard's Nature of Saving Conversion, p. 82.

252

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

SECT. VIII.
Nothing can certainly be determined concerning the nature
of the affections, that comforts and joys seem to follow in
a certain order.
Many persons seem to be prejudiced against affections
and experiences that come in such a method as has been
much insisted on by many divines ; first, such awaken
ings, fears, and awful apprehensions, followed with such
legal humblings, in a sense of total sinfulness and help
lessness, and then, such and such light and comfort. They
look upon all such schemes, laying down such methods
and steps, to be of men's devising : and particularly if
high affections of joy follow great distress and terror, it is
made by many an argument against those affections. But
such prejudices and objections are without reason or
Scripture. Surely it cannot be unreasonable to suppose,
that before God delivers persons from a state of sin and
exposedness to eternal destruction, he should give them
some considerable sense of the evil from which he de
livers ; that they may be delivered sensibly, and understand
their own salvation, and know something of what God
does for them. As men that are saved are in two exceed
ing different states, first a state of condemnation, and then
in a state of justification and blessedness ; and as God, in
the work of salvation, deals with them suitably to their
intelligent nature ; so it seems reasonable, and agreeable
to God's wisdom, that men who are saved, should be in
these two states sensibly ; that they should be first sensible
of their absolute extreme necessity, and afterwards of
Christ's sufficiency and God's mercy through him.
And that it is God's manner of dealing with men, to
lead them into a wilderness, before he speaks comfortably to
them, and so to order it, that' they shall be brought into
distress, and made to see their own helplessness, and
absolute dependence on his power and grace, before he
appears to work any great deliverance for them, is abun
dantly manifest by the Scripture. Then is God wont to
repent himself for his professing people, when their strength
is gone, and there is none shut up or left : and when they
are brought to see that their false gods cannot help them,
and that the rock in whom they trusted is vain, Deut.
xxxii. 36, 37. Before God delivered the children of
Israel out of Egypt, they were prepared for it, by being
made to see that they were in an evil case, and to cry unto
God, because of their hard bondage, Exod. ii. 23. and v.
19. And before God wrought that great deliverance for
them at the Red sea, they were brought into great distress,
the wilderness had shut them in, they could not turn to the
right hand nor the left. The Red sea was before them,
the great Egyptian host behind, and they were brought to
see that they could do nothing to help themselves, and
that if God did not help them, they should be immediately
swallowed up. Then God appeared, and turned their
cries into songs. So before they were brought to their rest,
and to enjoy the milk and honey of Canaan, God " led
them through a great and terrible wilderness, that he might
humble them, and teach them what was in their heart, and
so do them good in their latter end," Deut. viii. 2, 16.
The woman that had the issue of blood twelve years, was
not delivered, until she had first spent all her living on
earthly physicians, and could not be healed of any, and so
was left helpless, having no more money to spend. Then
she came to the great Physician, without money or price,
and was healed by him, Luke viii. 43, 44. Before Christ
would answer the request of the woman of Canaan, he
first seemed utterly to deny her, and humbled her, and
brought her to own herself worthy to be called a dog ;
and then he showed her mercy, and received her as a dear
child, Matt. xv. 22, &c. The apostle Paul, before a re
markable deliverance, was "pressed out of measure above
strength, insomuch that he despaired even of life ; but had
the sentence of death in himself, that he might not trust
in himself, but in God that raiseth the dead,' 2 Cor. i. 8,
9, 10. There was first a great tempest, and the ship was
covered with the waves, and just ready to sink, and the
disciples were brought to cry to Jesus, Lord, save us, we
perish, ; then the winds and seas were rebuked, and there
was a great calm, Matt, viii, 24—26. The leper, before

he was cleansed, must have his mouth stopped, by a
covering on his upper lip, and was to acknowledge his
great miseay and utter uncleanness, by rending his clothes,
and crying, Unclean, unclean, Lev. xiii. 45. And back
sliding Israel, before God heals them, are brought to "ac
knowledge that they have sinned, and have not obeyed
the voice of the Lord ; to see that they lie down in their
shame, and that confusion covers them ; that in vain is
salvation hoped for from the hills, and from the multitude
of mountains," and that God only can save them, Jer.
iii. 23, 24, 25. Joseph, who was sold by his brethren,
and therein was a type of Christ, brings his brethren into
great perplexity and distress, to reflect on their sin, and to
say, we are verily guilty, and at last to resign up them
selves entirely into his hands for bondmen. Then he re
veals himself to them, as their brother and their saviour.
If we consider those extraordinary manifestations which
God made of himself to saints of old, we shall find that
he commonly first manifested himself in a way which
was terrible, and then by those things that were comfort
able. So it was with Abraham ; first, a horror of great
darkness fell upon him, and then God revealed himself to
him in sweet promises, Gen. xv. 12, 13. So it was with
Moses at mount Sinai ; first, God appeared to him in all
the terrors of his dreadful majesty, so that Moses said, I
exceedingly fear and quake ; and then he made all his
goodness to pass before him, and proclaimed his name,
The Lord God gracious and merciful, &c. So it was with
Elijah ; first, there is a stormy wind, and earthquake, and
devouring fire, and then a still, small, sweet voice, 1 Kings
xix. So it was with Daniel ; he first saw Christ's counte
nance as lightning, that terrified him, and caused him to
faint away ; and then he is strengthened and refreshed
with such comfortable words as these, " O Daniel, a man
greatly beloved," Dan. x. So it was with the apostle
John, Rev. i. There is an analogy observable in God's
dispensations and deliverances which he works for his
people, and the manifestation which he makes of himself
to them, both ordinary and extraordinary.
But there are many things in Scripture which more di
rectly show, that this is God's ordinary manner in working
salvation for the souls of men ; and in tbe manifestations
he makes of himself and of his mercy in Christ, in the
ordinary works of his grace on the hearts of sinners. The
servant that owed his prince ten thousand talents, is first
held to his debt. The king pronounces sentence of con
demnation upon him, and commands him to be sold, and
his wife and children, that payment be made. Thus he
humbles him, and brings him to own the whole debt to
be just; and then forgives him all. The prodigal son
spends all he has, is brought to see himself in extreme
circumstances, to humble himself, and own his unworthi
ness, before he is relieved and feasted by his father, Luke
xv. Old inveterate wounds must be searched to the
bottom, in order to healing : and to this the Scripture
compares sin, the wound of the soul, and speaks of heal
ing this wound without thus searching it, as vain and de
ceitful, Jer. viii. 11. Christ, in the work of his grace on
the hearts of men, is compared to rain on the mown grass,
grass that is cut down with a scythe, Psal. lxxii. 6. repre
senting his refreshing, comforting influences on the wounded
spirit. Our first parents, after they had sinned, were first
terrified with God's majesty and justice, and had their sin,
with its aggravations, set before them by their Judge,
before they were relieved by the promise of the seed of
the woman. Christians are spoken of as those " that have
fled for refuge, to lay hold on the hope set before them,"
Heb. vi. 18. which representation implies great fear, and
sense of danger preceding. To the like purpose, Christ
is called "a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert
from the tempest, and as rivers of water in a dry place,
and as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land, Isa.
xxxii. And it seems to be the natural import of the word
gospel, glad tidings, that it is news of deliverance and
salvation, after great fear and distress. There is all reason
to suppose, that God deals with particular believers, as he
dealt with his church, which he first made to hear his
voice in the law, with terrible thunders and lightnings, and
kept her under that schoolmaster, to prepare her for Christ ;
and then comforted her with the joyful sound of the gos-

Sect. VIII.

JOYS FOLLOWING IN A CERTAIN ORDER, ARE NO SIGN.

253

pel from mount Sion. So likewise John the Baptist
came to prepare the way for Christ, and prepare men's
hearts for nis reception, by showing them their sins, and
by bringing the self-righteous Jews off from their own
righteousness, telling them that they were a generation of
vipers, and showing them their danger of the wrath to
come, telling them that the axe was kid at the root of the
trees, &c.
If it be indeed God's manner, (and I think the foregoing
considerations show that it undoubtedly is,) before he gives
men the comfort of a deliverance from their sin and misery,
to give them a considerable sense of the greatness and
dreadfulness of those evils, and their extreme wretchedness
by reason of them ; surely it is not unreasonable to sup
pose, that persons, at least oftentimes, while under these
views, should have great distresses and terrible apprehen
sions of mind. For let it be considered what these evils
are, of which they have a view ; viz. great and manifold
sins, against the infinite majesty of the great Jehovah,
and die suffering of the fierceness of his wrath to all
eternity. And we have many plain instances in Scripture,
of peisons that have actually been brought into extreme
distress by such convictions, before they have received
saving consolations : as the multitude at Jerusalem, who
were " pricked in their heart, and said unto Peter, and the
rest of the apostles, Men and brethren, what shall we do ? "
The apostle Paul trembled, and was astonished, before he
was comforted; and the jailor "called for a light, sprang
in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and
Silas, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved ? "
From these things it appears to be very unreasonable
in professing Christians, to make this an objection against
the truth and spiritual nature of their comfortable and
joyful affections, viz. that they follow such awful appre
hensions and distresses as have been mentioned.
On the other hand, it is no evidence that comforts and
joys are right, because they succeed great terrors, and
amazing fears of hell* This seems to be what some per
sons lay great weight upon ; esteeming great terrors an
evidence of a great work of the law wrought on the heart,
well preparing the way for solid comfort : not considering
that terror, and a conviction of conscience, are different
things. For though convictions of conscience often cause
tereor ; yet they do not consist in it ; and terrors often arise
from other causes. Convictions of conscience, through the
influences of God's Spirit, consist in conviction of sinful
ness in heart and practice, and of the dreadfulness of sin,
as committed against a God of terrible majesty, infinite
holiness and hatred of sin, and strict justice in punishing
of it. But some persons have frightful apprehensions of
hell — a dreadful pit ready to swallow them up, flames just
ready to lay hold of them, and devils all around ready to
seize them — who at the same time seem to have very little
proper light of conscience, really convincing them of their
sinfulness of heart and life. The devil, if permitted, can
terrify men as well as the Spirit of God. It is a work
natural to him, and he has many ways of doing it in a man
ner tending to no good. He may exceedingly affright per
sons by impressing on them many external images and
doleful ideas ; as of a countenance frowning, a sword
drawn, black clouds of vengeance, words of an awful
doom pronounced,f hell gaping, devils coming, and the
like — not in order to convince persons of things that are
true, and revealed in the word of God, but — to lead them
to vain and groundless determinations ; as that their day
is past, that they are reprobated, that God is implacable,
that he has come to a resolution immediately to cut them
off, &c.
And the terrors of some persons are very much owing to
their particular constitution and temper. Nothing is more
* Mr. Shepard speaks of " men's being cast down as low as hell by sor
row, and lying under chains, quaking in apprehension of terror to come, and
then raised up to heaven in joy, not able to live ; and yet not rent from lust ;
and such are objects of pity now, and are like to be the objects of terror at
the great day." — Parable of the Ten Virgins P. i. p. 125.
t " The way of the Spirit's working, when it does convince men, is by
enlightening natural conscience. The Spirit does not work by giving a tes
timony, but by assisting natural conscience to do its work. Natural con
science is the instrument in the hand of God, to accuse, condemn, terrify,
and to urge to duty. The Spirit of God leads men into the consideration of
their danger.'and makes them to be affected therewith, Prov. xx. 27. ' The
Bpirit of man is the candle ofthe Lord, searching all the inward parts of the
belly.' " Stoddard's Guide to Christ, p. 44.

manifest, than that some persons are of such a temper and
frame, that their imaginations are strongly impressed with
every thing they are affected with ; and the impression on
the imagination re-acts on the affection, and raises that still
higher. Affection and imagination act reciprocally one on
another, till their affection is raised to a vast height ; so
the person is swallowed up, and loses all possession of
himself.J Some speak of a great sight they have of their wicked
ness, who really, when the matter comes to be well ex
amined, are found to have little or no convictions of con
science. They speak of a dreadful hard heart, and how it
lies like a stone ; when truly they have none of those
things in their minds or thoughts, wherein the hardness of
their heart really consists. They speak of a dreadful load
and sink of sin, a heap of black and loathsome filthiness
within them ; when, if the matter be carefully inquired into,
they have not in view any thing wherein the corruption of
nature does truly consist. Nor have they any thought of
particular things wherein their hearts are sinfully defective,
or fall short of what ought to be in them. And many
think they have great convictions of their actual sins, who
truly have none. They tell you that their sins are set in
order before them, they see them stand encompassing
them round, with a frightful appearance; when really
thev are not affected with the aggravations of any one of
their sins.
And if persons have had great terrors which really have
been from the awakening and convincing influences of the
Spirit of God, it doth not thence follow that their terrors
must needs issue in true comfort. The unmortified cor
ruption of the heart may quench the Spirit of God, (after
he has been striving,) by leading men to presumptuous
and self-exalting hopes and joys, as well as otherwise. It
is not every woman who is really in travail, that brings
forth a real child ; but it may be a monstrous production,
without the form or properties of human nature. Pha
raoh's chief baker, after he had lain in the dungeon with
Joseph, had a vision that raised his hopes, and he was
lifted up out of the dungeon, as well as the chief butler ;
but it was to be hanged.
But if comforts and joys not only come after great terrors
and awakenings, but with an appearance of such prepara
tory convictions and humiliations, and brought about very
distinctly, by such steps, and in such a method, as has fre
quently been observable in true converts ; this is no cer
tain sign that the light and comforts which follow are true
and saving ; for these following reasons :
First, As the devil can counterfeit all the saving opera
tions and graces of the Spirit of God, so he can counterfeit
those operations that are preparatory to grace. If Satan
can counterfeit those effects of God's Spirit which are
special, divine, and sanctifying; so that there shall be a
very great resemblance, in all that can be observed by
others ; much more easily may he imitate those works of
God's Spirit which are common, and of which men, while
they are yet his own children, are the subjects. These
works are in no wise so much above him as the other.
There are no works of God that are so high and divine,
above the powers of nature, and out of the reach of the
power of all creatures, as those works of his Spirit whereby
be forms the creature in his own image, and makes it to be a
partaker of the divine nature. But if the devil can be the
author of such resemblances of these as have been spoken
of, without doubt he may of those that are of an infinitely
inferior kind. And it is abundantly evident in fact, that
there are false humiliations, and false submissions, as well
as false comforts.§ How far was Saul brought, though a
very wicked man, and of a haughty spirit, when he
(though a great king) was brought, in conviction of his sin,
I The famous Mr. Perkins distinguishes between " those sorrows that
come through convictions of conscience, and melancholic passions arising
only from mere imaginations, strongly conceived in the brain : which he
says, usually come on a sudden, like lightning into a house." Vol. i. of his
works, p. 385.
§ The venerable Stoddard observes, " A man may say, that now he can
justify God however he deals with him, and not be brought off from his
own righteousness ; and that some men do justify God, from a partial con
viction of the righteousness of their condemnation ; conscience takes notice
of their sinfulness, and tells them that they may be righteously damned ; as
Pharaoh, who justified God, Exod. ix. 27. And they give some kind of con
sent to it, but many times it does not continue, they have only a pang upon
them, that usually dies away after a.Iittle time."— Guide to Christ, p. II. _

254

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

all in tears, weeping aloud, before David his own subject
—one whom he had for a long time mortally hated, and
openly treated as an enemy — crying out, " Thou art more
righteous than I : for thou hast rewarded me good, where
as I have rewarded thee evil !" And at another time, " I
have sinned, I have played the fool, I have erred exceed
ingly," 1 Sam. xxiv. 16, 17. and chap. xxvi. 21. And yet
Saul seems then to have had very little of the influences
of the Spirit of God, it being after God's Spirit had de
parted from him, and an evil spirit from the Lord troubled
him. And if this proud monarch, in a pang of affection,
was brought to humble himself so low, before a subject
that he hated ; there doubtless may be appearances of great
conviction and humiliation in men, before God, while they
yet remain enemies to him, and though they finally con
tinue so. There is oftentimes in men, who are terrified
through fears of hell, a great appearance of their being
brought off from their own righteousness, when they are not
brought off from it in all ways. They have only exchanged
some ways of trusting in their own righteousness, for others
that are more secret and subtle. Oftentimes a great degree
of discouragement, as to many things they used to depend
upon, is taken for humiliation : and that is called a sub
mission to God, which is no absolute submission, but has
some secret bargain in it, that it is hard to discover.
Secondly, If the operations and effects of the Spirit of
God, in the convictions and comforts of true converts, may
be sophisticated, then the order of them may be imitated.
If Satan can imitate the things themselves, he may easily
put them one after another, in such a certain order. If the
devil can make A, B, and C, it is as easy for him to put A
first, and B next, and C next, as to range them in a con
trary order. The nature of divine things is harder for the
devil to imitate, than their order. He cannot exactly imi
tate divine operations in their nature, though his counter
feits may be very much like them in external appearance ;
but he can exactly imitate their order. When counterfeits
are made, there is no divine power needful in order to the
placing one of them first, and another last. And therefore
no order or method of operations and experiences, is any
certain sign of their divinity. That only is to be trusted to,
as a certain evidence of grace, which Satan cannot do, and
which it is impossible should be brought to pass by any
power short of divine.
Thirdly, We have no certain rule to determine how far
God's own Spirit may go in those operations and convic
tions which in themselves are not spiritual and saving.
There is no necessary connexion, in the nature of things,
betWeen any thing that a natural man may experience,
while in a state of nature, and the saving grace of God's
Spirit. And if there be no connexion in the nature of
things, then there can be no known and certain connexion
at all, unless it be by divine revelation. But there is no
revealed certain connexion between a state of salvation,
and any thing that a natural man can be the subject of,
before he believes in Christ. God has revealed no certain
connexion between salvation and any qualifications in men,
but only grace and its fruits. And therefore we do not
find any legal convictions, or comforts following these
legal convictions, in any certain method or order, ever
once mentioned in the Scripture, as certain signs of
grace, or things peculiar to the saints ; although we do
find gracious operations and effects themselves so men
tioned thousands of times. Which should be enough with
Christians, who are willing to have the word of God, rather
than their own philosophy, and experiences, and conjec
tures, as their sufficient and sure guide in things of this
nature. Fourthly, Experience confirms that persons seeming to
have convictions and comforts following one another in
such a method and order, as is frequently observable in
true converts, is no certain sign of grace.* I appeal to all
those ministers in this land, who have had much occasion
of dealing with souls, in the late extraordinary season,
whether there have not been many who do not prove well,
that have given a fair account of their experiences, and
* Mr. Stoddard, who had much experience of things of this nature, long
ago observed, that converted and unconverted men cannot be certainly dis
tinguished by the account they give of their experience ; the same relation
of experiences being common to both. And that many personB have given

have seemed to be converted according to rule, i. e. with
convictions and affections, succeeding distinctly and ex
actly, in that order and method, which has been ordinarily
insisted on, as the order of the operations of the Spirit of
God in conversion.
But as this distinctness, as to method, is no certain sign
that a person is converted; so, being without it is no
evidence that a person is not converted. For, though it
might be made evident to a demonstration, on scripture
principles, that a sinner cannot be brought heartily to re
ceive Christ as his Saviour, who is not convinced of his sin
and misery, his own emptiness and helplessness, and his
just desert of eternal condemnation — and therefore such
convictions must be some way implied in what is wrought
in his soul — yet nothing proves it to be necessary, that all
those things which are implied or presupposed in an act of
faith in Christ, must be plainly and distinctly wrought in
the soul, in so many successive and separate works of the
Spirit, that shall be each one manifest, in all who are truly
converted. On the contrary, (as Mr. Shepard observes,)
sometimes the change made in a saint, at first work, is
like a confused chaos ; so that the saints know not what
to make of it. The manner of the Spirit's proceeding in
them that are born of the Spirit, is very often exceeding
mysterious and unsearchable : we, as it were, hear the
sound of it, the effect is discernible ; but no man can tell
whence it came, or whither it went. And it is oftentimes
as difficult to know the way of the Spirit in the new birth,
as in the first birth : Eccl. xi. 5. " Thou knowest not what
is the way of the Spirit, or how the bones do grow in the
womb of her that is with child : even so thou knowest not
the works of God, that worketh all." The ingenerating of
a principle of grace in the soul, seems in Scripture to be
compared to the conceiving of Christ in the womb, Gal.
iv. 19. And therefore the church is called Christ's mother,
Cant. iii. 11. And so is every particular believer, Matt.
xii. 49, 50. And the conception of Christ in the womb of
the blessed virgin, by the power of the Holy Ghost, seems
to be a designed resemblance of the conception of Christ
in the soul of a believer, by the power of the same Holy
Ghost. And we know not what is the way of the Spirit,
in the heart that conceives this holy child. The new crea
ture may use that language in Psal. cxxxix. 14, 15. " I
am fearfully and wonderfully made ; marvellous are thy
works, and that my soul knoweth right well. My sub
stance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret."
Concerning the generation of Christ, both in his person,
and also in the hearts of his people, it may be said, as in
Isa. liii. 8. " Who can declare his generation ?" We
know not the works of God, that worketh all. It is the
glory of God to conceal a thing, (Prov. xxv. 2.) and to
have his path as it were in the mighty waters, that his foot
steps may not be known : and especially in the works of
his Spirit on the hearts of men, which are the highest and
chief of his works. And therefore it is said, Isa. xl. 13.
" Who hath directed the Spirit of the Lord, or being his
counsellor hath taught him ?" It is to be feared that some
have gone too far towards directing the Spirit of the Lord,
and marking out his footsteps for him, and limiting him to
certain steps and methods. Experience plainly shows that
God's Spirit is unsearchable and untraceable, in some of
the best of Christians, as to the method of his operations
in their conversion. Nor does the Spirit of God proceed
discernibly in the steps of a particular established scheme,
one half so often as is imagined. A scheme of what is
necessary, and according to a rule already received and
established by common opinion, has a vast, though to
many a very insensible, influence in forming men's no
tions of the steps and method of their own experiences.
I know very well what their way is ; for I have had much
opportunity to observe it. Very often, at first, their ex
periences appear like a confused chaos, as Mr. Shepard
expresses it : but then, those passages of their experience
are picked out, that have most of the appearance of such
particular steps that are insisted on ; and these are dwelt
upon in the thoughts, and from time to time, in the relation
a fair account of a work of conversion, that have carried well in the eye of
the world for several years, but have not proved well at last. Appeal to
the Learned, p. 75, 76.

Sect. IX.

MUCH TIME AND ZEAL IN DUTIES, ARE NO SIGN.

255

they give. These parts grow and brighten in their view ;
and others, being neglected, grow more and more obscure.
What they have experienced is insensibly strained to bring
all to an exact conformity to the scheme established. And
it becomes natural for ministers, who have to deal with
and direct them while insisting upon distinctness and
clearness of method, to do so too. But yet there has been
so much to be seen of the operations ofthe Spirit of God,
of late, that they who have had much to do with souls,
and are not blinded with a sevenfold vail of prejudice,
must know that the Spirit is so exceeding various in his
manner of operating, that in many cases it is impossible
to trace him, or find out his way.
What we have principally to do with, in our inquiries
into our own state, or the directions we give to others, is
the nature of that effect which God has brought to pass in
the soul. As to the steps which the Spirit took to bring
that effect to pass, we may leave them to him. We are
often in Scripture expressly directed to try ourselves by
the nature of the fruits; but no where by the Spirit's
method of producing them.* Many greatly err in their
notions of a clear work of conversion ; calling that a clear
work, where the successive steps of influence and method
of experience is clear: whereas that indeed is the clearest
work, (not where the order of doing is clearest, but,) where
the spiritual and divine nature of the work done, and effect
wrought, is most clear.

SECT. IX.
It is no certain sign that affections have in them the nature
of true religion, or that they have not, that they dispose
persons to spend much time in religion, and to be zeal
ously engaged in the external duties of worship.
This has, very unreasonably, of late been looked upon
as an argument against the religious affections of some, that
they spend so much time in reading, praying, singing,
hearing sermons, and the like. It is plain from the Scrip
ture, that it is the tendency of true grace to cause persons
very much to delight in such religious exercises. True
grace had this effect on Anna the prophetess ; Luke ii. 37.
" She departed not from the temple, but served God with
fastings and prayers night and day." And grace had this
effect upon the primitive Christians in Jerusalem ; Acts
ii. 46, 47. " And they continuing daily with one accord in
the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did
eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, prais
ing God." Grace made Daniel delight in the duty'of
prayer, and solemnly to attend it three times a day : as it
also did David, Psal. Iv. 17. " Evening, morning, and at
noon, will I pray." Grace makes the saints delight in
singing praises to God : Psal. cxxxv. 3. " Sing praises
unto his name, for it is pleasant." And cxlvii. 1. "Praise
ye the Lord : for it is good to sing praises unto our God ;
for it is pleasant, and praise is comely." It also causes
, them to delight to hear the word of God' preached : it
makes the gospel a joyful sound to them, Psal. lxxxix.
15. and makes the feet of those who publish these good
tidings, to be beautiful ; Isa. Iii. 7. " How beautiful
upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good
tidings!" &c. It makes them love God's public worship;
Psal. xxvi. 8. " Lord, I have loved the habitation of thy
house, and the place where thine honour dwelleth." And
Psal. xxvii. 4. " One thing have I desired of the Lord,
that will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the
Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the
Lord, and to inquire in his temple." Psal. lxxxiv. 1, 2.
&c. " How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts !
my soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the
Lord. — Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the
swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young,
even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.
* Mr. Shepard, speaking of the soul's closing with Christ, says, " As a
child cannot tell how his soul comes into it, nor it may be when ; but after
wards it sees and feels that life ; so that he were as bad as a beast, that
should deny an immortal soul.; so here." Parable ofthe Ten Virgins, Part
II. p. 171. J
" If the man do not know the time of his conversion, or first closing with
Christ; the minister may not draw any peremptory conclusion from thence,
that he is not godly."— Stoddard's Grade to Christ, p. 83.

Blessed are they that dwell in thy house : they will be
still praising thee. Blessed is the man in whose heart are
the ways of them, who passing through the valley of Baca,
— go from strength to strength, every one of them in Zion
appeareth before God." — Ver 10. "A day in thy courts is
better than a thousand."
This is the nature of true grace. But yet, on the other
hand, persons being disposed to abound and to be zealously
engaged in the external exercises of religion, and to spend
much time in them, is no sure evidence of grace ; because
such a disposition is found in many who have no grace.
So it was with the Israelites of old, whose services were
abominable to God ; they attended the new moons, and
sabbaths, and calling of assemblies ; and spread forth their
hands, and made many prayers, Isa. i. 12 — 15. So it was
with the Pharisees ; they made long prayers, and fasted
twice a week. False religion may cause persons to be loud
and earnest in prayer : Isa. lviii. 4." Ye shall not fast as
ye do this day, to cause your voice to be heard on high."
That religion which is not spiritual and saving, may cause
men to delight in religious duties and ordinances : Isa.
lviii. 2. "Yet they seek me daily, and delight to know
my ways, as a nation that did righteousness, and forsook
not the ordinance of their God : they ask of me the ordi
nances of justice : they take delight in approaching to
God." It may cause them to take delight in hearing the
word of God preached ; as it was with Ezekiel's hearers,
Ezek. xxxiii. 31, 32. " And they come unto thee as the
people cometh, and they sit before thee as my people, and
they hear thy words, but they will not do them : for with
their mouth they show much love, but their heart goeth
after their covetousness. And lo, thou art unto them as a
very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can
play well on an instrument : for they hear thy words, but
they do them not." Herod heard John the Baptist gladly,
Mark vi. 20. and others of his hearers, for a season, re
joiced in his light, John v. 35. So the stony-ground hear
ers heard the word with joy.
Experience shows, that persons, from false religion, may
be abundant in the external exercises of religion ; yea, to
give themselves up to them, and devote almost their whole
time to them. Formerly, a sort of people were very nu
merous in the Romish church, called recluses, who forsook
the world, and utterly abandoned the society of mankind.
They shut themselves up close in a narrow cell, with a vow
never to stir out of it, nor to see the face of any, (unless
that they might be visited in case of sickness,) but to
spend ail their days in the exercises of devotion and con
verse with God. There were also in old time, great mul
titudes called Hermites and Anchorites, who left the world
in order to spend all their days in lonesome deserts, and to
give themselves up to religious contemplations and exer
cises of devotion. Some sorts of them had no dwellings,
but the caves and vaults of the mountains, and no food,
but the spontaneous productions of the earth. — I once lived,
for many months, next door to a Jew, (the houses adjoin
ing one to another,) and had much opportunity daily to
observe him ; who appeared to me the devoutest person
that ever I saw in my life ; great part of his time being
spent in acts of devotion, at his eastern window, which
opened next to mine, seeming to be most earnestly en
gaged, not only in the day-time, but sometimes whole
nights.

SECT. X.
Nothing can be certainly known ofthe nature of religious
affections, that they much dispose persons with their
mouths to praise and glorify God.
This indeed is implied in what has been just now ob
served, of abounding and spending much time in the ex
ternal exercises of religion, and was also hinted before ;
" Do not think there is no compunction, or sense of sin, wrought in the
soul because you cannot so clearly discern and feel it ; nor the time of the
working, and first beginning of it. I have known many that have come
with their complaints, that they were never humbled, they never felt it so ;
yet there it hath been, and many times they have seen it, by the other
spectacles, and blessed God for it" Shepard's Sound Believer, page 33.
The late impression in Boston.

256

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

but because many seem to look upon it as a bright evi
dence of gracious affection, when persons appear greatly
disposed to praise and magnify God, to have their mouths
full of his praises, and affectionately to be calling on
others to praise and extol him, I thought it deserved a
more particular consideration.
No Christian will make it an argument against a per
son that he seems to have such a disposition. Nor can it
reasonably be looked upon as an evidence for a person, if
those things which have been already observed and proved
be duly considered : viz. that persons, without grace, may
have high affections towards God and Christ, and that
there may be counterfeits of all kinds of gracious affection.
But it will appear more evidently and directly, that this is
no certain sign of grace, if we consider what instances the
Scripture gives us of it in those that were graceless. We
often have an account of this, in the multitude that were
S resent when Christ preached and wrought miracles;
lark ii. 1 2. " And immediately he arose, took up his bed,
and went forth before them all, insomuch that they were
all amazed, and glorified God, saying, We never saw it on
this fashion." So Matt. ix. 8. and Luke v. 26. Also Matt.
xv. 31. " Insomuch that the multitude wondered when
they saw the dumb to speak, the maimed to be whole, the
lame to walk, and the blind to see : and they glorified the
God of Israel." So we are told, that on occasion of Christ
raising the son of the widow of Nain, Luke vii. 16.
" There came a fear on all : and they glorified God, say
ing, That a great prophet is risen up among us ; and, That
God hath visited his people." So we read of their glorify
ing Christ, or speaking exceeding highly of him, Luke iv.
15. " And he taught in their synagogues, being glorified
of all." And how did they praise him with loud voices,
crying, " Hosanna to the Son of David, Hosanna in the
highest ; blessed is he that cometh in the name of the
Lord," a little before he was crucified ! And after Christ's
ascension, when the apostles had healed the impotent man,
we are told, that all man glorified God for that which was
done, Acts iv. 21. When the Gentiles in Antioch of
Pisidia, heard from Paul and Barnabas, that God would
reject the Jews, and take the Gentiles to be his people in
their room, they were affected with this goodness of God
to the Gentiles, and glorified the word ofthe Lord. Yet,
all that did so were not true believers ; but only a certain
elect number of them ; as is intimated, Acts xiii. 48.
" And when the Gentiles heard this, they were glad, and
glorified the word of the Lord : and as many as were or
dained to eternal life, believed." Israel, at the Red sea,
sang God's praise ; but soon forgat his works. And the
Jews in Ezekiel's time, with their mouth showed much love,
while their heart went after their covetousness. And it is
foretold of false professors, and real enemies of religion,
that they should show a forwardness to glorify God ; Isa.
lxvi. 5. " Hear the word of the Lord, ye that tremble at
his word ; Your brethren that hated you, that cast you out
for my name's sake, said, Let the Lord be glorified."
It is no certaip sign that a person is graciously affected,
if in the midst of hopes and comforts he is greatly affected
with God's unmerited mercy to him that is so unworthy,
and seems greatly to extol and magnify free grace. Those
that yet remain with unmortified pride and enmity against
God, may — when they imagine that they have received ex
traordinary kindness from God — deplore their unworthi
ness, and magnify God's undeserved goodness to them.
Yet this may arise from no other conviction of their ill—
deservings, and from no higher principle, than Saul had,
who — while he remained with unsubdued pride and
enmity against David — was brought, though a king, to ac
knowledge his unworthiness, and cry out, I have played
the fool, I have erred exceedingly. And with what great
affection and admiration does he magnify and extol
David's unmerited and unexampled kindness to him, 1
Sam. xxv. 16 — 19. and xxvi. 21. Nebuchadnezzar is af
fected with God's dispensations, and praises, extols, and
honours the King of heaven ; and both he, and Darius,
in their high affections, call upon all nations to praise
God, Dan. iii. 28—30. and iv. 1—3. 34, 35, 37. and vi.
25—27.

SECT. XI.

It is no sign that affections are right, or that they are wrong,
that they make persons exceeding confident.
It is an argument with some, that persons are deluded
if they pretend to be assured of their good estate) and to
be carried beyond all doubting of the favour of God, sup
posing that there is no such thing to be expected, as a full
and absolute assurance of hope ; unless it be in some
very extraordinary circumstances ; as in the case of mar
tyrdom. But this is contrary to the doctrine of protestants,
which has been maintained by their most celebrated
writers against the papists ; and contrary to the plainest
scripture evidence. It is manifest, that it was a common
thing for the saints of whom we have a particular account
in Scripture, to be assured. God, in the plainest and most
positive manner, revealed and testified his special favour
to Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Daniel, and
others. Job often speaks of his sincerity and uprightness
with the greatest imaginable confidence and assurance,
often calling God to witness it; and says plainly, "I
know that my Redeemer liveth, and that I shall see him
for myself, and not another," Job xix. 25, &c. David
throughout the book of Psalms, speaks without hesitancy,
and in the most positive manner, of God as his God ;
glorying in him as his portion and heritage, his rock and
confidence, his shield, salvation, high tower, and the like.
Hezekiah appeals to God, as one that knew he had walked
before him in truth, and with a perfect heart, 2 Kings xx.
3. Jesus Christ, in his dying discourse with his eleven
disciples, John xiv — xvi. (which was as it were Christ's
last will and testament to his disciples and to his whole
church,) often declares his special and everlasting love to
them, in the plainest and most positive terms ; and pro
mises them a future participation with him in his glory, in
the most absolute manner. And he tells them, at the same
time, that he does so to this end, that their joy might be
full; John xv. 11. "These things have I spoken unto
you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy
might be full.'U' See also at the conclusion of his whole
discourse, chap. xvi. 33. " These things have I spoken
unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world
ye shall have tribulation : but be of good cheer, I have
overcome the world." Christ was not afraid of speaking
too plainly and positively to them ; he did not desire to
hold them in the least suspense. And he concluded that
last discourse, with a prayer in their presence; wherein he
speaks positively to his Father of those eleven disciples,
as having savingly known him, believed in him, and re
ceived and kept his word. He declares, that thev were
not of the world ; that for their sakes he sanctified him
self; and that his will was, that they should be with him
in his glory. And tells his Father, that he spake these
things in his prayer, to the end, that his joy might be ful
filled in them, ver. 13. By these things it is evident, that
it is agreeable to Christ's designs, that there should be suf
ficient provision made, for his saints to have full assurance
of their future glory.
The apostle Paul, through all his epistles, speaks in an
assured strain ; ever asserting his special relation to Christ,
his Lord, Master, and Redeemer, with his interest in, and
expectation of, the future reward. It would be endless to
take notice of all places that might be enumerated ; I shall
mention but three or four : Gal. ii. 20. " Christ liveth in
me : and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by
the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave him
self for me." Phil. i. 21. " For me to live is Christ, and
to die is gain." 2 Tim. i. 12. " I know whom I have be
lieved, and I am persuaded that he is able to keep that
which I have committed unto him against that day." 2
Tim. iv. 7, 8. " I have fought a good fight, I have finished
my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is
laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord,
the righteous Judge, will give me at that day."
The nature of the covenant of grace, and God's declared
ends in the appointment and constitution of things in that
covenant, plainly show it to be God's design to make
ample provision for the saints having an assured hope of
eternal life, while living here upon earth. For so are all

Sect. XI.

GREAT CONFIDENCE, IS NO CERTAIN SIGN.

257

things ordered in that covenant, that every thing might be
made sure on God's part. The covenant is ordered in all
things and sure : the promises are most full, very often
repeated, and various ways exhibited ; there are many
witnesses, and many seals ; and God has confirmed his
promises with an oath. God's declared design in all this
is, that the heirs of the promises might have an undoubt-
ing hope, and full joy, in an assurance of their future
glory. Heb. vi. 17, 18. "Wherein God willing more
abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immuta
bility of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath : that by
two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God
to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled
for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us." But
all this would be in vain, for any such purpose as the
saints' strong consolation, and their hope of obtaining
future glory, if their interest in those sure promises in or
dinary cases were not attainable. For God's promises
and oaths, let them be as sure as they will, cannot give
strong hope and comfort to any particular person, any
further than he can know that those promises are made to
him. And in vain is provision made in Jesus Christ,
that believers might be perfect, as pertaining to the con
science, Heb. ix. 9. if assurance of freedom from the
guilt of sin is not attainable.
It further appears, that assurance is attainable in ordinary
cases, in that all Christians are directed to give all dili-
fence to make their calling and election sure, and are told
ow they may do it, 2 Pet. i. 5 — 8. And it is spoken of
as a thing very unbecoming Christians, and an argument
of something very blamable in them, not to know whether
Christ be in them or no, 2 Cor. xiii. 5. " Know ye not
your ownselves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except
ye be reprobates ?" And it is implied, that it is a very
blamable negligence in christians, if they practise
Christianity after such a manner as to remain uncertain of
the reward, 1 Cor. ix. 26. " I therefore so run, as not
uncertainly." And, to add no more, it is manifest, that
Christians knowing their interest in the saving benefits of
Christianity, is a thing ordinarilv attainable, because the
apostles tell us by what means Christians (and not only
apostles and martyrs) were wont to know this ; 1 Cor. ii.
12. " Now we have received, not the spirit of the world,
but the Spirit which is of God ; that we might know the
things that are freely given to us of God." And 1 John ii.
3. " And hereby we do know that we know him, if we
keep his commandments." And ver. 5. " Hereby know
we that we are in him." Chap. iii. 14. "We know that
we have passed from death unto life, because we love the
brethren. ' Verse 19. " Hereby we know that we are of
the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him." Verse
24. " Hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the
Spirit which he hath given us." (So chap. iv. 13. and
chap. v. 2, 19.)
Therefore it must needs be very unreasonable to deter
mine, that persons are hypocrites, and their affections
wrong, because they seem to be out of doubt respecting
their own salvation, and their affections seem to banish ail
fears of hell.
On the other hand, it is no sufficient reason to deter
mine that men are saints, and their affections gracious,
because they are attended with confidence that their state
is good, and their affections divine.* Nothing can be cer
tainly argued from their confidence, how great and strong
soever it be. A man may boldly call God his Father,
and commonly speak in the most bold, familiar, and ap
propriating language in prayer, My Father, my dear Re
deemer, my sweet Saviour, my beloved, and the like. He
may use the most confident expressions before men, about
the goodness of his state ; such as, " I know certainly
* " O professor, look carefully to your foundation : be not high-minded,
but fear. You have, it may be, done and suffered many things in and for
religion ; you have excellent gifts and sweet comforts ; a warm zeal for
God, and high confidence of your integrity : all this may be right, for
ought that I, or (it may be) you know : but yet, it is possible it may be
false also. You have sometimes judged yourselves, and pronounced your
selves upright ; but remember your final sentence is not yet pronounced by
your Judge. And what if God weigh you over again, m his more equal
balance, and should say, Mene, Tekel, Thou art weighed in the balance,
and art found wanting ? What a confounded man wilt thou be, under
such a sentence ! Quw resplendent in conspecfu hominis, sordenl in con-
spectu Sudicis ; Things that are highly esteemed of men, are an abomina
tion in the sight of God : he seeth not as men seeth. Thy heart may be
false, and thou not know it: yea, it may be false, and thou strongly
S

that God is my Father : I know so surely as there is a
God in heaven, that he is my God ; I know I shall go to
heaven, as well as if I were there ; I know that God is
now manifesting himself to my soul, and is now smiling
upon me." He may seem to have done for ever with any
inquiry or examination into his state, as a thing sufficient
ly known, and out of doubt, and to contemn all that so
much as intimate that there is reason to doubt whether all
is right. Yet such things are no signs at all that it is in
deed what he is confident it is.f— Such an over-bearing,
high-handed, and violent sort of confidence as this, affect
ing to declare itself with a most glaring show in the sight
of men, has not the countenance of a true christian assur
ance. It savours more of the spirit of the Pharisees, who
never doubted but that they were saints, the most eminent
of saints, and were bold to thank God for the great dis
tinction he had made between them and other men . And
when Christ intimated that they were blind and graceless,
they despised the suggestion ; John ix. 40. " And some
of the Pharisees which were with him, heard these words,
and said unto him, Are we blind also '!" If they had
more of the spirit of the publican — who, in a sense of his
exceeding unworthiness, stood afar off, and durst not so
much as lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote on his
breast, condemning himself as a sinner — their confidence
would have more resembled one who humbly trusts and
hopes in Christ, and has no confidence in himself.
If we do but consider what the hearts of natural men
are, what principles they are under, what blindness and
deceit, what self-flattery, self-exaltation, and self-confi
dence reigns there, we need not at all wonder that their
high opinion of themselves, and confidence of their happy
circumstances, are as high and strong as mountains, and
as violent as a tempest. For what should hinder, when
once conscience is blinded, convictions are killed, false af
fections high, and those forementioned principles let
loose ? When, moreover, these principles are prompted
by false joys and comforts, excited by some pleasing ima
ginations impressed by Satan, transforming himself into
an angel of light ?
When once a hypocrite is thus established in a false
hope, he has not those things to cause him to call his
hope in question, that oftentimes are the occasion of
doubting to true saints ; as, first, he has not that cautious
spirit, that great sense of the vast importance of a sure
foundation, and that dread of being deceived. The com
forts of the true saints increase awakening and caution,
and a lively sense how great a thing it is to appear before
an infinitely holy, just, and omniscient Judge. But false
comforts put an end to these things, and dreadfully stu-
pify the mind. Secondly, The hypocrite has not the know
ledge of his own blindness, and the deceitfulness of his
own heart, and that mean opinion of his own understand
ing, that the true saint has. Those that are deluded with
false discoveries and affections, are evermore highly con
ceited of their light and understanding. Thirdly, The
devil does not assault the hope of the hypocrite, as he
does the hope of a true saint. The devil is a great enemy
to a true Christian's hope, not only because it tends
greatly to his comfort, but also because it is of a holy,
heavenly nature, greatly tending to promote and cherish
grace in the heart, and a great incentive to strictness and
diligence in the Christian life. But he is no enemy to the
hope of a hypocrite, which above all things establishes his
interest in him. A hypocrite may retain nis hope without
opposition, as long as he lives, the devil never attempting
to disturb it. But there is perhaps no true Christian but
what has his hope assaulted by him. Satan assaulted
Christ himself, upon this, whether he were the Son of
God or no : and the servant is not above his Master, nor
confident of its integrity." — Flavel's Touchstone of Sincerity, chap. ii.
sect. 5.
" Some hypocrites are a great deal more confident than many saints." —
Stoddard's Discourse on the way to know Sincerity and Hypocrisy, p. 128.
t " Doth the work of faith in some believers, bear upon its top-
branches, the full ripe fruits of a blessed assurance ? Lo, what strong con
fidence, and high-built persuasions of an interest in God, have sometimes
been found in unsanctified ones ! Yea, so strong may this false assurance
be, that they dare boldly venture to go to the judgment-seat of God, and
there defend it. Doth the Spirit of God fill the heart of the assured be
liever with joy unspeakable, and full of glory, giving them, through faith,
a prelibation or foretaste of heaven itself, in those first-fruits of it? How
near to this comes what the apostle supposes may be found in apostates !"
Flavel's Husbandry Spiritualized, chap. xii.

258

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

the disciple above his Lord. It is enough for the disciple,
who is most privileged in this world, to be as his Master.
Fourthly, He who has a false hope, has not that sight of
his own corruptions which the saint has. A true Chris
tian has ten times so much to do with his heart and its
corruptions, as a hypocrite. The sins of his heart and
practice appear to him in their awful blackness ; they look
dreadful : and it often appears a very mysterious thing,
that any grace can be consistent with such corruption, or
should be in such a heart. But a false hope hides cor
ruption, covers it all over, and the hypocrite looks clean
and bright in his own eyes.
There are two sorts of hypocrites : one such as are de
ceived with their outward morality and external religion ;
many of whom are professed Arminians, in the doctrine of
justification : and the other, such as are deceived with false
discoveries and elevations. These last often cry down
works and men's own righteousness, and talk much of free
grace ; but at the same time make a righteousness of their
discoveries and humiliation, and exalt themselves to
heaven with them. These two kinds of hypocrites Mr.
Shepard, in his exposition ofthe Parable of the Ten Virgins,
distinguishes by the names of legal and evangelical hypo
crites ; and often speaks of the latter as the worst. And it
is evident, that the latter are commonly by far the most
confident in their hope, and are with the most difficulty
brought off from it. 1 have scarcely known an instance
of such an one that has been undeceived. The chief
grounds of the confidence of many of them, are impulses
and supposed revelations, (sometimes with texts of Scrip
ture, and sometimes without,) like what many of late have
had concerning future events. These impulses about their
good estate they call the witness of the Spirit ; entirely
misunderstanding the nature of the witness of the Spirit, as
I shall show hereafter. Those who have had visions and
impulses about other things, have generally had such
things as they are desirous and fond of, revealed to them :
and no wonder that persons who give heed to such things,
have the same sort of visions or impressions about their
own eternal salvation. Why may they not suppose a re
velation made to them, that their sins are forgiven them,
that their names are written in tne book of life, that they
are in high favour with God, &c. and especially when they
earnestly seek, expect, and wait for evidence of their elec
tion and salvation this way, as the surest and most glorious
evidence of it ? Neither is it any wonder, that when they
have such a supposed revelation of their good estate, it
raises in them the highest degree of confidence of it. It is
found by abundant experience, that those who are led
away by impulses and imagined revelations, are extremely
confident. They suppose, that the great Jehovah has de
clared these and those things to them ; and having his im
mediate testimony, a strong confidence is the highest
virtue. Hence they are bold to say, I know this or that ;
—I know certainly ; — I am as sure as that I have a being,
and the like : and they despise all argument and inquiry
into the case. And it is easy to be accounted for, that im
pressions and impulses about that which is so pleasing, so
suiting their self-love and pride, as their being the dear
children of God, should make them strongly confident :
especially when, with their impulses and revelations, they
have high affections, which they take to be the most emi
nent exercises of grace. I have known several persons,
who have had a fond desire of something of a temporal
nature, through a violent passion that has possessed them ;
they have earnestly wished it should come to pass, and
have met with many discouragements in it; but at last
have had an impression, or supposed revelation, that they
should obtain what they sought. They have looked upon
this as a sure promise from the Most High, which has
made them most ridiculously confident, against all man
ner of reason to convince them to the contrary, and all
events working against them. And nothing hinders, but
that persons who are seeking their salvation may be de-
* Mr. Shepard speaks of it, " as a presumptuous peace, that is not inter
rupted and broke by evil works." And says, that " the spirit will sigh, and
not sing, in that bosom , whence corrupt dispositions and passions break out."
And that, " though men in such frames may seem to maintain the console
tion of the Spirit, and not suspect their hypocrisy, under pretence of trust
ing the Lord's mercy ; yet they cannot avoid the ' condemnation of the
world.' " Parable ofthe Ten Virgins, Part 1. p. 139.

ceived by the like delusive impressions, and be made con
fident the same way.
The confidence of many of this sort, whom that Mr,
Shepard calls evangelical hypocrites, is like the confidence
of some mad men, who think they are kings : they will
maintain it against all manner of reason and evidence.
And in one sense, it is much more immovable than a truly
gracious assurance ; a true assurance is not upheld, but by
the soul being kept in a holy frame, and grace maintained
in lively exercise. If the actings of grace do much decay
in the Christian, _nd he falls into a lifeless frame, he loses
his assurance : but this confidence of hypocrites will not
be shaken by sin ; they (at least some of them) will main
tain their boldness in their hope, in the most corrupt
frames and wicked ways ; which is a sure evidence of their
delusion* And here I cannot but observe, that there are certain
doctrines often preached to the people, which need to be
delivered with more caution and explanation than they
frequently are ; for as they are by many understood, they
tend greatly to establish this delusion and false confidence
of hypocrites. The doctrines I speak of are those of Chris
tians living by faith, not by sight : their giving glory to
God, by trusting him in the dark ; living upon Christ, and
not upon experiences; not making their good frames the
foundation of their faith. These are excellent and import
ant doctrines indeed, rightly understood, but corrupt and
destructive, as many understand them. The Scripture
speaks of our living or walking by faith, and not by sight,
in no other way than these, viz. When we are governed by
a respect to eternal things, which are the objects of faith,
and are not seen, and not by a respect to temporal things,
which are seen ; when we believe things revealed, that we
never saw with bodily eyes ; and also exercise faith in the
promise of future things, without yet seeing or enjoying the
things promised, or knowing the way how they can be ful
filled. This will be easily evident to any one that looks
over the Scriptures, which speak of faith in opposition to
sight t But this doctrine, as it is understood by many, is,
that Christians ought firmly to believe and trust in Christ,
without spiritual light ; even although they are in a dark,
dead frame, and for the present, have no spiritual expe
riences or discoveries. It is truly the duty of those who
are thus in darkness to come out of darkness into light, and
to believe. But that they should confidently believe and
trust, while they yet remain without spiritual light or sight,
is an antiscriptural and absurd doctrine.
The Scripture is ignorant of any such faith in Christ of
the operation of God, that is not founded in a spiritual
sight of Christ. That believing on Christ, which accom
panies a title to everlasting life, is a seeing the Son, and be
lieving on him, John vi. 40. True faith in Christ is never
exercised, any further than persons behold as in a glass the
glory of the Lord, and have the know/edge of the glory of
God in the face of Jesus Christ, 2 Cor. iii. 18. and iv. 6.
They into whose minds the light of the glorious gospel of
Christ, who is the image of God, does not shine, they believe
not, 2 Cor. iv. 4. That faith, which is without spiritual
light, is not the faith of the children of the light and of the
day ; but the presumption of the children of darkness.
And therefore to press and urge them to believe, without
any spiritual light or sight, tends greatly to help forward
the delusions of the prince of darkness. Men not only
cannot exercise faith without some spiritual light, but they
can exercise faith only just in such proportion as they have
spiritual light. Men will trust in God no further than they
know him : and they cannot be in the exercise of faith in
him, further than they have a sight of his fulness and faith
fulness in exercise. Nor can they have the exercise of trust
in God, any further than they are in a gracious frame. They
that are in a dead carnal frame, doubtless ought to trust in
God ; because that would be the same thing as coming out
of their bad frame, and turning to God : but to exhort men
confidently to trust in God, and so hold up their hope and
Dr. Ames speaks of it as a thing, by which the peace of a wicked ma-
may be distinguished from the peace of a godly man, •' that the peace of a
wicked man continues, whether he performs the duties of piety and righte
ousness or no ; provided those crimes are avoided that appear horrid to
nature itself." Cases of Conscience, lib. III. chap, vii
t As 2 Cor. iv. 18. and v. 7. Heb. xi. 1, 8, 13, 17, 27, 29. Rom. viii. 24
John xx. 29.

Sect. XI.

GREAT CONFIDENCE, IS NO CERTAIN SIGN.

peace, though they are not in a gracious frame; and con
tinue still to be so, is the same thing, in effect, as to ex
hort them confidently to trust in God, but not with a gra
cious trust : and what is that but a wicked presumption ?
It is just as impossible for men to have a strong or lively
trust in God, when they have no lively exercises of grace,
or sensible christian experiences, as it is for them to be
in the lively exercises of grace, without the exercises of
grace !
It is true, that it is the duty of God's people to trust in
him when in darkness, even though they remain still in
darkness, in one sense, viz. when the aspects of his provi
dence are dark, and look as though God had forsaken them,
and did not hear their prayers. Many clouds gather, many
enemies surround them with a formidable aspect, threaten
ing to swallow them up, and all events of providence seem
to be against them. All circumstances seem to render the
promise of God difficult to be fulfilled, but he must be
trusted out of sight, i. e. when we cannot see which way it
is possible for him to fulfil his word. Every thing but
God's mere word makes it look unlikely, so that if per
sons believe, they must hope against hope. Thus the an
cient patriarchs, and thus the psalmist, Jeremiah, Daniel,
Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego, and the apostle Paul,
gave glory to God by trusting him in darkness. We have
many instances of such a glorious, victorious faith in the
eleventh of the Hebrews. But how different a thing is this,
from trusting in God, without spiritual sight, and being at
the same time in a dead and carnal frame !
Spiritual light may be let into the soul in one way,
when it is not in another ; and so there is such a thing as
the saints trusting in God, and also knowing their good
estate, when they are destitute of some kinds of expe
rience. For instance, they may have clear views of God's
all-sufficiency and faithfulness, and so may confidently
trust in him, and know that they are his children ; and
yet not have those clear and sweet ideas of his love, as
at other times. Thus it was with Christ himself in his
last passion. They may also have views of God's sove
reignty, holiness, and all-sufficiency, enabling them quietly
to submit to him, and to exercise a sweet and most en
couraging hope in his fulness, when they are not satisfied
of their own good estate. But how different things are
these, from confidently trusting in God, without spiritual
light or experience !
Those who thus insist on persons' living by faith, when
they have no experience, and are in very bad frames, are
also very absurd in their notions of faith. What they
mean by faith is, believing that they are in a good estate.
Hence they count it a dreadful sin for them to doubt of
their state, whatever frames they are in, and whatever
wicked things they do, because it is the great and heinous
sin of unbelief; and he is the best man, and puts most
honour upon God, that maintains his hope of his good
estate the most confidently and immovably, when he has
the least light or experience ; that is to say, when he is in
the worst frame and way ; because forsooth, that it is a
sign that he is strong in faith, giving glory to God, and
against hope believes in hope. But from what Bibie do
they learn this notion of faith, that it is a man's confidently
believing that he is in a good estate ? * If this be faith,
the Pharisees had faith in an eminent degree ; some of
whom Christ teaches, committed the unpardonable sin
against the Holy Ghost. The Scripture represents faith,
as that by which men are brought into a good estate ; and
therefore it cannot be the same thing, as believing that
they are already in a good estate. To suppose that faith
consists in persons' believing that they are in a good estate,
is in effect the same thing, as to suppose that faith consists
in a person's believing that he has faith, or in believing
that he believes !
Indeed persons' doubting of their good estate, may in
several respects arise from unbelief. It may be from un
belief, or because they have so little faith, that they have
so little evidence of their good estate. If they had more
* " Men do not know that they are godly, by believing that they are
godly. We know many things by faith, Heb. xi. 3. By faith we under
stand that the worlds were made by the word of God. Faith is the evi
dence of things not seen, Heb. xi. 1. Thus men know the Trinity of
persons of the Godhead : that Jesus Christ is the Son of God ; that he that
believes in him will have eternal life ; the resurrection of the dead. ' And
S 2

259
experience of the actings of faith, and so more experience
of the exercise of grace, they would have clearer evidence
that their state was good ; and so their doubts would be
removed. And their doubling of their state may be from
unbelief thus, when though there be many things that are
good evidences of a work of grace in them, yet they
doubt very much whether they are really in a state of
favour with God, because it is they, those that are so un
worthy, and have done so much to provoke God to anger
against them. Their doubts in such a case arise from
unbelief, as they arise from want of a sufficient sense of,
and reliance on, the infinite riches of God's grace, and the
sufficiency of Christ for the chief of sinners. They may
also be from unbelief, when they doubt of their state, be
cause of the mystery of God's dealings with them. They
are not able to reconcile such dispensations with God's
favour to them. Some doubt whether they have any
interest in the promises, because from the aspect of provi
dence, they appear so unlikely to be fulfilled ; the diffi
culties in the way are so many and great. Such doubting
arises from want of dependence upon God's almighty
power, and his knowledge and wisdom, as infinitely above
theirs. But yet, in such persons their unbelief, and their
doubting of their state, are not the same thing ; though
one arises from the other.
Persons may be greatly to blame for doubting of their
state, on such grounds as these ; and they may be to
blame, that they have no more grace, and no more of its
present exercises, to be an evidence to them of the good
ness of their state. Men are doubtless to blame for being
in a dead, carnal frame ; but when they are in such a
frame, and have no sensible experience of the exercises of
grace, but on the contrary, are very much under the pre
valence of their lusts, and an unchristian spirit, they arc
not to blame for doubting of their state. It is as impos
sible, in the nature of things, that a holy and christian
hope should be kept alive in its clearness and strength, in
such circumstances, as it is to keep the light in the room,
when the candle that gives it is put out ; or to maintain
the bright sunshine in the air, when the sun is gone down.
Distant experiences, when darkened by present prevailing
lust and corruption, will never keep alive a gracious con
fidence and assurance. If the one prevail, the other
sickens and decays upon it. Does any one attempt to
nourish and strengthen a little child by repeated blows on
the head with a hammer ? Nor is it at all to be lamented,
that persons doubt of their state in such circumstances ;
but on the contrary, it is desirable and every way best
that they should. It is agreeable to that wise and merciful
constitution of things which God hath established. For
so hath God constituted things, in his dispensations to
wards his own people, that when their lore decays, and
the exercises of it become weak., fear should arise. They
need fear then to restrain them from sin, to excite them
to care for the good of their souls, and so to stir them up
to watchfulness and diligence in religion. But God hath
so ordered, that when love rises, and is in vigorous exer
cise, then fear should vanish, and be driven away ; for
then they need it not, having a higher and more excellent
principle in exercise, to restrain them from sin, and stir
them up to duty. No other principles will ever make
men conscientious, but one of these two, fear or love : and
therefore, if one of these should not prevail as the other
decayed, God's people when fallen into dead and carnal
frames, when love is asleep, would be lamentably exposed
indeed. Hence, God has wisely ordained, that these two
opposite principles of love and fear, should rise and fall,
like the two opposite scales of a balance ; when one rises
the other sinks. Light and darkness. unavoidably succeed
each other ; if light prevail so much does darkness cease,
and no more ; and if light decay, so much does darkness
prevail. So it is in the heart of a child of God ; if divine
love decay and fall asleep, and lust prevail, the light and
joy of hope goes out, and dark fear arises ; and if, on the
contrary, divine love prevail, and come into lively exercise,
if God should tell a saint that he has grace, he might know it by believing
the word of God. But it is not this way, that godly men do know that they
have grace. It is not revealed in the word, and the Spirit of God doth not
testifyit to particular persons." Stoddart's Nature of Saving Conversion
p. 83, 64.

260

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part II.

this brings in the brightness of hope, and drives away
black lust and fear with it. Love is the spirit of adoption,
or the childlike principle; if that slumbers, men fall
under fear, which is the spirit of bondage, or the servile
principle : and so on the contrary. And if love, or the
spirit of adoption, be carried to a great height, it quite
drives away all fear, and gives full assurance ; 1 John iv.
18. "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casteth out
fear." These two opposite principles of lust and holy
love, bring fear or hope into the hearts of God's children,
just in proportion as they prevail ; that is, when left to
their own natural influence, without something adventitious
or accidental intervening ; as the distemper of melancholy,
doctrinal ignorance, prejudices of education, wrong in
struction, false principles, peculiar temptations, &c. -y
Fear is cast out by the Spirit of God, no other way than
by the prevailing of love : nor is it ever maintained by his
Spirit, but when love is asleep. At such a time, in vain
is all the saint's self-examinations, and poring on past ex
perience, in order to establish his peace, and get assurance.
For it is contrary to the nature of things, as God hath consti
tuted them, that he should have assurance at such a time.
They therefore directly thwart God's wise and gracious
constitution of things, who exhort others to be confident
in their hope, when in dead frames ; under a notion of
living by faith, and not by sight, and trusting God in the
dark, and living upon Christ, and not upon experiences ;
and who warn them not to doubt of their good estate, lest
they should be guilty of the dreadful sin of unbelief. It
has a direct tendency to establish the most presumptuous
hypocrites, and to prevent their ever calling their state in
question, how much soever wickedness rages — reigns in
their hearts, and prevails in their lives — under a notion of
honouring God, by hoping against hope, and confidently
trusting in God, when things look very dark. And,
doubtless, vast has been the mischief that has been done
this way.
Persons cannot be said to forsake Christ, and live on
their experiences, merely because they use them as evi
dences of grace ; for there are no other evidences that they
can take. But then may persons be said to live upon
their experiences, when they make a righteousness of them ;
and when, instead of keeping their eye on God's glory,
and Christ's excellency, they turn it on themselves. They
entertain their minds by viewing their own attainments,
their high experiences, and the great things they have met
with, which are bright and beautiful in their own eyes.
They are rich and increased with goods in their own ap
prehensions, and think that God has as admiring an esteem
of them, on the same account, as they have of themselves.
This is living on experiences, and not on Christ ; and is
more abominable in the sight of God, than the gross im
moralities of those who make no pretences to religion.
But this is a far different thing from improving experi
ences as evidences of an interest in a glorious Redeemer.

SECT. XII.
Nothing can be certainly concluded concerning the nature
of religious affections, that the relations persons give of
them, are very affecting.
The true saints have not such a spirit of discerning, that
they can certainly determine who are godly, and who' are
not. For though they know experimentally what true re
ligion is, in the internal exercises of it ; yet these are what
* " Men may have the knowledge of their own conversion ; the know
ledge that other men have of it is uncertain ; because no man can look into
the heart of another, and see the workings of grace there." Stoddard's Na
ture of Saving Conversion, chap. xv. at the beginning.
T Mr. Stoddard observes, That " all visible signs are common to con
verted and unconverted men ; and a relation of experiences, among the
rest." Appeal to the Learned, p. 75.
" O how hard is it for the eye of man to discern betwixt chaff and wheat!
and how many upright hearts are now censured, whom God will clear !
how many false hearts are now approved, whom God will condemn ! Men
ordinarily have no convictive proofs, but only probable symptoms; which
at most beget but a conjectural knowledge of another's- state. And they
that shall peremptorily judge either way, may possibly wrong the genera
tion of the upright, or on the other side, absolve and justify the wicked. And
truly, considering what hath been said, it is no wonder that dangerous
mistakes are so frequently made in this matter." Flavel's Husbandry
Spiritualized, chap. xii.

they can neither feel nor see, in the heart of another.*
There is nothing in others, that comes within their view,
but outward manifestations and appearances ; but the
Scripture plainly intimates, that this way of judging what
is in men by outward appearances is at best uncertain,
and liable to deceit : 1 Sam. xvi. 7. " The Lord seeth not
as man seeth ; for man looketh on the outward appear
ance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." Isa. xi. 3. " He
shall not judge after the sight of his eyes, neither reprove
after the hearing of his ears."f They commonly are but
poor judges and dangerous counsellors in soul cases, who
are quick and peremptory in determining persons' states,
vaunting themselves in their extraordinary faculty of dis
cerning and distinguishing, in these great affairs ; as though
all was open and clear to them. They betray one of these
three things ; either that they have had but little experi
ence ; or are persons of a weak judgment ; or that they
have a great degree of pride and self-confidence, and so
ignorance of themselves. Wise and experienced men will
proceed with great caution in such an affair.
When there are many probable appearances of piety in
others, it is the duty of the saints to receive them cordially
into their charity, to love, and rejoice in them, as their
brethren in Christ Jesus. But yet the best of men may be
deceived, when the appearances seem to them exceeding
fair and bright, even so as entirely to gain their charity,
and conquer their hearts. It has been a common thing in
the church of God, for bright professors, received as
eminent among the saints, to fall away and come to
nothing.} And this we need not wonder at, if we consider
the things already observed ; things which may appear in
men who are altogether graceless. Nothing hinders but
that all these things may meet together in men, and yet
they be witiiout a spark of grace in their hearts. They may
have religious affections of many kinds together; they
may have a sort of affection towards God, that bears a
great resemblance of real love to him. They may have a
kind of love to the brethren, great appearances of admira
tion of God's perfections and works, sorrow for sin,
reverence, submission, self-abasement, gratitude, joy, re
ligious longings, and zeal for the interest of religion and the
good of souls. These affections may come after great
awakenings and convictions of conscience ; and there may
be great appearances of a work of humiliation. Counter
feit love and joy, and other affections, may seem to follow
one another, just in the same order that is commonly ob
servable in the holy affections of true converts. And these
religious affections may be earned to a great height, may
cause abundance of tears, yea, may overcome the nature of
those who are the subjects of them, and may make them
affectionate, fervent, and fluent in speaking ofthe things of
God, and dispose them to be abundant in it. They may
have many sweet texts of Scripture, and precious promises,
brought with great impression on their minds ; and their
affections may dispose them, with their mouths, to praise
and glorify God in a very ardent manner, and fervently to
call upon others to praise him, exclaiming against their
unworthiness, and extolling free grace. They may, more
over, dispose them to abound in the external duties of
religion, such as prayer, hearing the word preached, sing
ing, and religious conference ; and these things attended
with a great resemblance of christian assurance in its
greatest height, when the saints mount on eagles' wings,
above all darkness and doubting. I think it has been
made plain, that there may be all these things, and yet
nothing more than the common influences ofthe Spirit of
God, joined with the delusions of Satan, and a wicked,
t " Be not offended, if you see great cedars fall, stars fall from heaven,
great professors die and decay : do not think they be all such : do not think
that the elect shall fall. Truly, some are such that when they fall, one
would think a man truly sanctified might fall away, as the Arminians
think ; 1 John ii. 19. They were not of us. I speak this, because the Lord
is shaking ; and I look for great apostacies : for God is trying all his
friends, through all the christian world. In Germany what profession was
there ! who would have thought it ? The Lord who delights to manifest
that openly, which was hid secretly, sends a sword and thev fall " She-
pard's Para*. Parti, p. 118, 119. '
" The saints may approve thee, and God condemns thee ; Rev. iii 1
Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead. Men may sav There
is a true Nathaniel ; and God may say. There is a self-cozening Pharisee
Reader, thou hast heard of Judas and Demas, of Ananias and Sapphira, of
Hymeneus and Philetus, once renowned and famous professors, and thou
hast heard how theyproved at last" Flavel's Touchstone of Sincerity.
chap, u, sect, 5. ¦ J

Sect. XII.

AFFECTING RELATIONS, ARE NO SIGN.

261

deceitful heart. To which I may add, that all these
things may be attended with a sweet natural temper, a
good doctrinal knowledge of religion, a long acquaintance
with the saints' way of expressing their affections and ex
periences, and a natural ability and subtlety in accommo
dating their expressions and manner of speaking to the
dispositions and notions of the hearers, with a taking
decency of expression and behaviour, formed by a good
education. How great therefore may die resemblance be,
as to all outward expressions and appearances, between a
hypocrite and a true saint ! Doubtless, it is the" glorious
prerogative of the omniscient God, as the great searcher of
hearts, to be able well to separate between these sheep
and goats. And what an indecent self-exaltation and
arrogance is it, in poor fallible dark mortals, to pretend,
that they can determine and know, who are really sincere
and upright before God, and who are not.
Many seem to lay great weight on that, and to suppose
it to be what may determine them with respect to others'
real piety, when they not only tell a plausible story, but
when, in giving an account of their experiences, they make
such a representation, and speak after such a manner, that
they feel their talk ; that is to say, when their talk seems
to harmonize with their own experience, and their hearts
are touched, affected, and delighted, by what they hear
them say, and drawn out by it in dear love to them. But
there is not that certainty in such things, and that full de
pendence to be laid upon them which many imagine. A
true saint greatly delights in holiness ; it is a most beau
tiful thing in his eyes ; and God's work, in savingly re
newing and making holy and happy a poor perishing soul,
appears to him a most glorious work. No wonder, there
fore, that his heart is touched, and greatly affected, when
he hears another give a probable account of this work,
wrought on his own heart, and when he sees in him pro
bable appearances of holiness ; whether those pleasing
appearances have any thing real to answer them, or no.
And if he use the same words, which are commonly used
to express the affections of true saints, and tell of many
things following one another in an order agreeable to the
method of another's experience, and also speak freely and
boldly, and with an air of assurance ; no wonder that the
other thinks his experiences harmonize with his own. And
if besides all this, in giving his relation, he speak with
much affection ; and above all, if in speaking he show
much affection, such affection as the Galatians did to the
apostle Paul ; these things will naturally have a powerful
influence to affect and draw his hearer's heart, and open
wide the doors of his charity towards him. David speaks
as one who had felt Ahithophel's talk, and had once a
sweet savour and relish of it. And therefore exceeding
great was his surprise and disappointment, when he fell ;
it was almost too much for him. Psal. Iv. 12 — 14. " It
was not an enemy — then I could have borne it ; — but it
was thou, a man, mine equal, my guide, and mine ac
quaintance : we took sweet counsel together, and walked
unto the house of God in company."
It is with professors of religion, especially such as be
come so in a time of an outpouring of the Spirit of God,
as it is with the blossoms in the spring ;* there are vast
numbers of blossoms upon the trees, which all look fair
and promising ; but yet very many of them never come to
any thing. Many, in a little time, wither, drop off, and
rot under the trees. Indeed, for a while, they look as
beautiful and gay as others ; and not only so, but smell
sweet, and send forth a pleasant odour ; so that we cannot
certainly distinguish those blossoms which have in them
that secret virtue which will afterwards appear in the fruit.
We cannot tell which of them have that inward solidity
and strength which shall enable them to bear, and cause
them to be perfected by the hot summer sun that will dry
up the others. It is the mature fruit, which comes after
wards, and not the beautiful colours and smell of the
blossom, that we must judge by. So new converts, pro
fessedly so, in their talk about religious things, may ap
pear fair, and be very savoury, and the saints may think
they talk feelingly. They may relish their talk, and ima-
* A time of outpouring of the Spirit of God, reviving religion, and pro
ducing the pleasant appearances of it, in new converts, is in Scripture com-

gine they perceive a divine savour in it ; and yet all may
come to nothing.
It is strange how hardly men are brought to be content
ed with the rules and directions Christ has given them, but
they must needs go by other rules of their own ipven ting-
that seem to them wiser and better. I know of no direc
tions or counsels which Christ ever delivered more plainly,
than the rules he has given to guide us in our judging of
others' sincerity ; viz. that we should judge of the tree
chiefly by the fruit. Yet this, it seems, will not do ; but
other ways are found out, which are imagined to be more
distinguishing and certain. And woful have been the
mischievous consequences of this arrogant setting up of
men's wisdom, above the wisdom of Christ. I believe
many saints have gone much out of the way of Christ's
word, in this respect: and some of them have been chas
tised with whips, and (1 had almost said) scorpions, to
bring them back again. But many things which have
lately appeared, and do now appear, may convince us, that
ordinarily those who have gone farthest this way — that
have been most highly conceited of their faculty of dis
cerning, and have appeared most forward, peremptorily
and suddenly to determine the state of men's souls — have
been hypocrites, who have known nothing of true religion.
In the parable of the wheat and tares, it is said, Matt.
xiii. 26. " When the blade was sprung up, and brought
forth fruit, then appeared the tares also." As though the
tares were not discerned, nor distinguishable from the
wheat, until then, as Mr. Flavel observes ;f who mentions
it as an observation of Jerome's, that wheat and tares are
so much alike, until the blade of the wheat comes to bring
forth the ear, that it is next to impossible lo distinguish
them. And theu, Mr. Flavel adds, " How difficult soever
it be to discern the difference between wheat and tares ;
yet doubtless the eye of sense can much easier discrimi
nate them, than the most quick and piercing eye of man
can discern the difference between special and common
grace. For all saving graces in the saints, have their coun
terfeits in hypocrites; there are similar works in those,
which a spiritual and very judicious eye may easily mis
take for the saving and genuine effects of a sanctifying
spirit." As it is the ear or the fruit which distinguishes the
wheat from the tares, so this is the true Shibboleth, that he
who stands as judge at the passages of Jordan, makes use
of to distinguish those that shall pass over Jordan into
the true Canaan, from those that should be slain at the
passages. For the Hebrew word Shibboleth, signifies an
ear of corn. And perhaps the more full pronunciation of
Jephthah's friends, Shibboleth, may represent a full ear
with fruit in it, typifying the fruits of the friends of Christ,
the anti-type of Jephthah ; and the more lean pronunci
ation of the Ephraimites, his enemies, may represent their
empty ears, typifying the show of religion in hypocrites,
without substance and fruit. This is agreeable to the doc
trine we are abundantly taught in Scripture, viz. That he
who is set to judge those that pass through death, whether
they have a right to enter into the heavenly Canaan or no,
or whether they should not be slain, will judge every man
according to his works.
We seem to be taught the same things, by the rules
given for the priest's discerning of the leprosy. In many
cases it was impossible for the priest to determine whether
a man had the leprosy, or whether he were clean, by the
most narrow inspection of the appearances upon him, until
he had v. aited to see what the appearances would come to,
and had shut up the person who showed himself, one
seven days after another ; and when he judged, he was to
determine by the hair, which grew out ofthe spot that v/as
showed him, which was as it were the fruit that it brought
forth. And here, before I finish what I have to say under this
head, I would say something to a strange notion some have
of late been led away with, of certainly knowing the good
estate that others are in— as though it were immediately
revealed to them from heaven — by their love flowing out
to them in an extraordinary manner. They argue thus,
pared to this very thing, viz. the spring-season, when the benign influences
of the heavens cause the blossoms to put forth. Cant. ii. 11. 12.
t Husbandry Spiritualized, chap. xii.

262

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

that their love, being very sensible and great, may be cer
tainly known by them who feel it, to be a true christian
love : and if it be a true christian love, the Spirit of God
must be the author of it : and inasmuch as the Spirit of
God — who knows certainly whether others are the children
of God or no, and is a Spirit of truth — is pleased, by an
uncommon influence upon them, to cause their love to
flow out, in an extraordinary manner, towards such a
person, as a child of God ; it must needs be, that this in
fallible Spirit, who deceives none, knows that that person
is a child of God. But such persons might be convinced
of the falseness of their reasoning, if they would consider
whether or no it be not their duty, and what God expressly
requires of them, to love those as the children of God, who
they think are the children of God, and of whom they
have no reason to think otherwise, from all that they can
see in them, though God, who searches the hearts, knows
them not to be his children. If it be their duty, then it is
good, and the want of it sin ; and therefore, the Spirit of
God may be the author of it. Surely, the Spirit of God,
without being a spirit of falsehood, may in such a case
assist a person to do his duty, and keep him from sin.
But then, they argue from the uncommon degree and spe
cial manner, in which their love flows out to the person ;
which they think the Spirit of God never would cause, if
he did not know the object to be a child of God. But
then I would ask them, whether or no it is not their duty
to love all such as they are bound to think are the children
of God, from all that they can see in them, to a very great
degree, though God, from other things which he sees,
knows them not to be so. It is men's duty to love all
whom they are bound in charity to look upon as the chil
dren of God, with a vastly dearer affection than they com
monly do. As we ought to love Christ to the utmost
capacity of our nature, so it is our duty to love those who
we think are so near and dear to him as his members, with
an exceeding dear affection, as Christ has loved us ; and
therefore it is sin in us not to love them so. We ought
to pray to God that he would by his Spirit keep us from
sin, and enable us to do our duty : and may not his Spirit
answer our prayers, and enable us to do our duty, in a
particular instance, without lying ? If he cannot, then the
Spirit of God is bound not to help his people to do their
duty in some instances, because he cannot do it without
being a spirit of falsehood. But surely God is so far a
sovereign, that he may enable us to do our duty when he
pleases, and on what occasion he pleases. When persons
think others are his children, God may have other ends in
causing their exceedingly endeared love to flow out to
them, besides revealing to them whether their opinion of
them be right or no. May he not have that merciful end
in it, to enable them to do their duty, and to keep them
from that dreadful, infinite evil, sin ? And will they say , God
shall not show them that mercy in such a case ? If I am
at a distance from home, and hear, that in my absence my
house is burnt, but my family have, in some extraordinary
manner, all escaped the flames ; and every thing in the
circumstances ofthe story, as I hear it, makes it appear
very credible ; would it not be sin in me, in such a case,
not to feel a very great degree of gratitude to God, though
the story in fact be not true? And is not God so
sovereign, that he may, if he please, on that occasion,
enable me to do my duty in a much further degree than I
used to do it, and yet not incur the charge of deceitfulness,
in confirming a falsehood ?
It is exceeding manifest, that a mistake may be the

occasion of a gracious exercise, and consequently a gracious
influence of the Spirit of God, by Rom. xiv. 6. "He that
eateth to the Lord, he eateth, and giveth God thanks ; and
he that eateth not to the Lord, he eateth not, and giveth
God thanks." The apostle is speaking of those who,
through erroneous and needless scruples, avoided eating
legally unclean meats. By this it is very evident, that
there may be true exercises of grace, a true respect to the
Lord, and particularly a true thankfulness, which may be
occasioned by an erroneous judgment and practice. And
consequently, an error may be the occasion of those truly
holy exercises that are from the infallible Spirit of God.
And if so, it is certainly too much for us to determine, to
how great a degree the Spirit of God may give this holy
exercise on such an occasion.
This notion, of certainly discerning another's state by
love flowing out, is not only not founded on reason or
Scripture, but it is anti-scriptural, against the rules of
Scripture ; which — without saying a word of any such way
of judging the state of others as this — direct us to judge
chiefly by the fruits that are seen in them. The doctrines
of Scripture plainly teach us, that the state of others, to
wards God, cannot be known by us, as in Rev. ii. 17.
" To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden
manna, and I will give him a white stone, and in the
stone a new name written, which no man knoweth, saving
he that receiveth it." And Rom. ii. 29. " He is a Jew,
which is one inwardly ; and circumcision is that of the
heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter, whose praise is
not of men, but of God." By this last expression, whose
praise is not of men, but of God, the apostle has respect to
the insufficiency of men to judge concerning him, whether
he be inwardly a Jew or no. They could easily see by
outward marks, whether men were outwardly Jews, but it
belongs to God alone to give a determining voice, respect
ing their inward state. This is confirmed by the same
apostle's use of the phrase in 1 Cor. iv. 5. " Therefore judge
nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both
will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will
make manifest the counsels of the hearts : and then shall
every man have praise of God." The apostle, in the two
foregoing verses, says, " But with me it is a very small
thing that I should be judged of you, or of man s judg
ment : yea, I judge not mine own self. For I know
nothing by myself, yet am I not hereby justified : but he
that judgeth me is the Lord." It is further confirmed,
because the apostle, in this second chapter to the Romans,
directs his speech especially to those who had a high con
ceit of their own holiness, made their boast of God, were
confident of their own power of discerning, that they knew
God's will, and approved the things which were excellent,
or tried the things that differ, (as in the margin, v. 18.)
" They were confident that they were guides of the blind,
and a light to them which are in darkness, instructors of
the foolish, teachers of babes :" and so took upon them to
judge others. (See ver. 1 and 17 — 20.;
And how arrogant must their notion be, who imagine
they can certainly know others' godliness, when that great
apostle Peter pretends not to say any more concerning
Sylvanus, than that he was a faithful brother, as he sup
posed.' 1 Pet. v. 12. Though this Sylvanus appears to
have been a very eminent minister of Christ, an evangelist,
a famous light in God's church at that day, and an intimate
companion of the apostles. (See 2 Cor. i. 19. 1 Thess.
i. Land 2 Thess. i. 1.)

PART III.
SHOWING WHAT ARE DISTINGUISHING SIGNS OF TRULY GRACIOUS AND HOLY AFFECTION-

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.
I come now to take notice of some things, wherein those
affections that are spiritual and gracious, differ from those
that are not so. — But before I proceed directly to the dis

tinguishing characters, I would previously mention some.
things which I desire may be observed, concerning the
marks I shall lay down. &
1. I am far from undertaking to give such signs of
gracious affections, as shall be sufficient to enable any

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

certainly to distinguish true affections from false in others ;
or to determine positively which of their neighbours are
true professors, and which are hypocrites. In so doing, I
should be guilty of that arrogance which I have been con
demning. It is plain that Christ has given rules to all
Christians, to enable them to judge of those professors of
religion, with whom they are concerned, so far as is neces
sary for their own safety, and to prevent their being led
into a snare by false teachers, and false pretenders to
religion. It is also beyond doubt, that the Scriptures
abound with rules, which may be very serviceable to
ministers, in counselling and conducting souls committed
to their care, in things appertaining to their spiritual and
eternal state. Yet it is also evident, that it was never
God's design to give us any rules, by which we may cer
tainly know, who of our fellow-professors are his, and to
make a full and clear separation between sheep and goats.
On the contrary, it was God's design to reserve this to
himself, as his prerogative. . And therefore no such distin
guishing signs as shall enable Christians or ministers to do
this, are ever to be expected to the world's end : for no more
is ever to be expected from any signs found in the word of
God, or gathered from it, than Christ designed them for.
2. No such signs are to be expected, that shall be suf-
fioient to enable those saints certainly to discern their own
good estate, who are very low in grace, or are such as
have much departed from God, and are fallen into a dead,
carnal, and unchristian frame. It is not agreeable to God's
design, (as already observed,) that such should know their
good estate : nor is it desirable that they should ; but on
the contrary, it is every way best that they should not.
We have reason to bless God, that he has made no pro
vision that such should certainly know the state they are
in, any other way, than by first coming out of their ill
frame and way.
Indeed it is not properly through the defect of the signs
given in the word of God, that every saint living, whether
strong or weak, and those who are in a bad frame, as well
as others, cannot certainly know their good estate by them.
For the rules in themselves are certain and infallible, and
every saint has, or has had, those things in himself, which
are sure evidences of grace ; for every, even the least, act
of grace is so. But the difficulty comes through his de
fect to whom the signs are given. There is a twofold de
fect in that saint who is very low in grace, or in an ill frame,
which makes it impossible for him to know certainly that
he has true grace, by the best signs and rules which can
be given him.
First, A defect in the object, or the qualification to be
viewed and examined. I do not mean an essential defect;
because I suppose the person to be a real saint : but a
defect in degree : grace being very small, cannot be clearly
and certainly discerned and distinguished. Things that
are very small we cannot clearly discern, as to their form, or
distinguish them one from another ; though as thev are in
themselves, their form may be very different. There is
doubtless a great difference between the body of man, and
the bodies of other animals, in the first conception in the
womb : but yet, if we should view the different embryos,
it might not be possible for us to discern the difference, by
reason of the imperfect state of the object: but as it
comes to greater perfection, the difference becomes very
plain. The difference between creatures of very contrary
qualities, is not so plainly to be seen while they are very
young, even after they are actually brought forth, as in
their more perfect state. The difference between doves
and ravens, or doves and vultures, when they first come
out of the egg, is not so evident; but as they grow to
their perfection, it is exceeding great and manifest. The
grace of those I am speaking of is mingled with so much
corruption, which clouds and hides it, as makes it impos
sible to be known with certainty. Though different things
before us, may have in themselves many marks thoroughly
distinguishing them one from another ; yet if we see them
only in a thick smoke, it may nevertheless be impossible
to distinguish them. A fixed star is easily distinguishable
* " The way to know your .godliness, is to renew the visible exercises
of grace." — " The more visible exercises of grace are renewed, the more
certain you will be. The more frequently these actings are renewed, the
more abiding and confirmed your assurance will be." — " The more men's

263
from a comet, in a clear sky ; but if we view them through
a cloud, it may be impossible to see the difference. When
true Christians are in an ill frame, guilt lies on the con
science ; which will bring fear, and so prevent the peace
and joy of an assured hope.
Secondly, There is in such a case a defect in the eye.
As the feebleness of grace, and the prevalence of corrup
tion, obscures the object; so it enfeebles the sight. Cor
ruption in the soul darkens the sight as to all spiritual
objects, of which grace is one. Sin is like some distem
pers of the eyes, that make things to appear of different
colours from those which properly belong to them ; or,
like other distempers that put the mouth out of taste, so
as to disable it from distinguishing good and wholesome
food from bad, but every thing tastes bitter. Men in a
corrupt and carnal frame, have their spiritual senses in
but a poor plight for judging and distinguishing spiritual
things. For these reasons, no signs that can be given will actu
ally satisfy persons in such a case. Let the signs given
be never so good and infallible, and clearly laid down,
they will not serve them. It is like giving a man rules
how to distinguish visible objects in the dark : the things
themselves may be very different, and their difference may
be very well and distinctly described to him ; yet all is
insufficient to enable him to distinguish them, because he
is in the dark. And therefore many persons in such a
case spend time in a fruitless labour, in poring on past
experiences, and examining themselves by signs which
they hear laid down from the pulpit, or read in books.
There is other work for them to do, which, while they
neglect, all their self-examinations are like to be in vain,
if they should spend never so much time in them. The
accursed thing is to be destroyed from their camp, and
Achan to be slain ; and until this be done they will be in
trouble. It is not God's design that men should obtain
assurance in any other way, than by mortifying corrup
tion, increasing in grace, and obtaining the lively exercises
of it. And although self-examination be a duty of great
use and importance, and by no means to be neglected;
yet it is not the principal means, by which the saints do
get satisfaction of their good estate. Assurance is not to be
obtained so much by self-examination, as by action. The
apostle Paul sought assurance chiefly this way, even by
forgetting the things that were behind, and reaching forth
unto those things that were before, pressing towards the
mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ
Jesus ; if by any means he might attain unto the resurrec
tion ofthe dead. And it was by this means chiefly that he
obtained assurance, 1 Cor. ix. 26. " I therefore so run, as
not uncertainly." He obtained assurance of winning the
prize more by running than by considering. The swiftness
of his pace, did more towards his assurance of a conquest,
than the strictness of his examination. Giving all diligence
to grow in grace, by adding to faith, virtue, &c. is the di
rection that the apostle Peter gives us, for malting our
calling and election sure, and having an entrance minister
ed to us abundantly into Christ's everlasting kingdom.
Without this, our eyes will be dim, and we shall be as
men in the dark ; we cannot plainly see either the for
giveness of our sins past, or our heavenly inheritance that
is future, and far off, 2 Pet. i. 5 — 11.*
Therefore, though good rules to distinguish true grace
from counterfeit, may tend to convince hypocrites, and be
of great use to the saints, in many respects ; and among
other benefits, they may be very useful to them in order
to remove many needless scruples, and establish their hope ;
yet I am far from pretending to lay down any such rules
as shall be sufficient of themselves, without other means,
to enable all true saints to see their good estate, or from
supposing that they should be the principal means of their
satisfaction. 3. Nor is there much encouragement, from the expe
rience of present or past times, to lay down rules or marks
to distinguish between true and false affections, in hopes
of convincing any considerable number of that sort of hy-
grace is multiplied, the more their peace is multiplied ; 2 Pet. i. 2. ' Grace
and peace be multiplied unto you, through the knowledge of God and
Jesus Christ our Lord.' " Stoddard's Way to know Sincerity and Hypo
crisy, p. 139, and 142.

264

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part HI.

pocrites, who have been deceived with great false disco
veries and affections, and are once settled in false confi
dence. Such hvpocrites are so conceited of their own
wisdom, so blinded and hardened with self-righteousness,
(but very subtle and secret, under the disguise of great
humility,) and so invincible a fondness of their pleasing
conceit, their great exaltation, that it usually signifies no
thing at all to lay before them the most convincing evi
dences of their hypocrisy. Their state is indeed deplorable,
and next to those that have committed the unpardonable
sin. Some of this sort seem to be most out of the reach
of means of conviction and repentance. But yet the
laying down of good rules mav be a means of convincing
other kinds of hypocrites ; and God is able to convince
even this kind, and his grace is not to be limited, nor
means to be neglected. Besides, such rules may be of use
to the true saints, in order to detect false affections, which
they mav have mingled with true ; and be a means of their
religion becoming more pure, and like gold tried in the fire.
Having premised these things, I now proceed directly to
take notice of those things in which true religious affec
tions are distinguished from false.

SECT. I.
Affections that are truly spiritual and gracious, arise from
those influences and operations on the heart, which are
spiritual, supernatural, and divine.
I will explain what I mean by these terms, whence
will appear their use to distinguish between those affections
which are spiritual, and those which are not so. — We find
that true saints, or those persons who are sanctified by the
Spirit of God, are in the New Testament called spiritual
persons. And their being spiritual is spoken of as their
peculiar character, and that wherein they are distinguished
from those who are not sanctified. This is evident, because
those who are spiritual are set in opposition to natural
men, and carnal men. Thus the spiritual man and the
natural man are set in opposition one to another, 1 Cor. ii.
14, 15. " The natural man receiveth not the things of the
Spirit of God : for they are foolishness unto him : neither
can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.
But he that is spiritual, judgeth all things." The Scripture
explains itself to mean an ungodly man, or one that has
no grace, by a natural man : thus the apostle Jude, speak
ing of certain ungodly men, that had crept in unawares
among the saints, (ver. 4. of his epistle,) says, ver. 19.
" There are sensual, having not the Spirit." This the
apostle gives as a reason why they behaved themselves in
such a wicked manner as he had described. Here the
word i//i/Xckoi, translated sensual, is the very same, which in
1 Cor. ii. 14, 15. is translated natural. In like manner,
in the continuation of the same discourse, spiritual men are
opposed to carnal men ; which the connexion plainly shows
mean the same, as spiritual men and natural men, in the
foregoing verses ; " And I, brethren, could not speak unto
you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal ;" i. e. as in a
great measure unsanctified.* Now therefore, if by natural
and carnal, in these texts, be intended unsanctified, then
doubtless by spiritual, which is opposed thereto, is meant
sanctified and gracious. And as the saints are called
spiritual in Scripture, so we also find that there are certain
properties, qualities, and principles, that have the same
epithet given them. So we read of a spiritual mind, Rom.
viii. 6, 7. of spiritual wisdom, Col. i. '9. and of spiritual
blessings, Eph. i. 3.
Now it may be observed, that the epithet spiritual, in
these and other parallel texts of the New Testament, is not
used to signify any relation of persons or things to the
spirit or soul of man, as the spiritual part of man, in oppo
sition to the body, or material part. Qualities are not said
to be spiritual, because they have their seat in the soul, and
not in the body : for there are some properties that the
Scripture calls carnal or fleshly, which have their seat as
much in the soul, as those properties thatare called spiritual.
Thus pride and self-righteousness, and a man's trusting to
* That by carnal the apostle means corrupt and unsanctified, is abundant
ly evident, by Rom. vii. 25. Si viii. 1, 4—12, 13. Gal. v. 16. to the end. Col. ii. 18,

his own wisdom, the apostle calls fleshly, Col. ii. 18. Nor
are things called spiritual, because they are conversant
about those things tnat are immaterial, and not corporeal.
For so was the wisdom of the wise men, and princes of
this world, conversant about spirits, and immaterial beings ;
yet the apostle speaks of them as natural men, totally ig
norant of those things that are spiritual, 1 Cor. chap. ii. But
it is with relation to the Holy Ghost, or Spirit of God,
that persons or things are termed spiritual, in the New
Testament. Spirit, as the word is used to signify the third
person in the Trinity, is the substantive, of which is form
ed the adjective spiritual in the Holy Scriptures. Thus
Christians are called spiritual persons, because they are
born ofthe Spirit, and because ofthe indwelling and holy
influences of the Spirit of God in them. And things are
called spiritual as related to the Spirit of God ; 1 Cor. ii.
13, 14. " Which things also we speak, not in the words
man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teach-
eth; comparing spiritual things with spiritual. But the
natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God."
Here the apostle himself expressly signifies, that by
spiritual things, he means the things ofthe Spirit of God,
and things which the Holy Ghost teacheth. The same is
yet more abundantly apparent by viewing the whole con
text. Again, Rom. viii. 6. To be carnally minded, is death;
but to be spiritually minded, is life and peace. The
apostle explains what he means by being carnally and
spiritually minded, in what follows in the 9th verse, and
shows that by being spiritually minded he means, having
the indwelling and holy influences of the Spirit of God in
the heart. But ye are not in the flesh, but is the spirit,
if so be the Spirit of God dwell in you. Now if any man
have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his. The same
is evident by all the context. But time would fail to pro
duce all the evidence of this in the New Testament.
And it must be here observed, that although it is with
relation to the Spirit of God and his influences, that per
sons and things are called spiritual ; yet not all those per
sons who are subject to any kind of influence of the Spirit
of God, are ordinarily called so in the New Testament.
They who have only the common influences of God's Spirit,
are not so called, in the places cited above. It has been
already proved, that by spiritual men is meant godly men,
in opposition to natural, carnal, and unsanctified men. And
it is most plain, that the apostle by spiritually minded,
Rom. viii. 6. means graciously minded. And though the
extraordinary gifts of the Spirit, which natural men might
have, are sometimes called spiritual, because they are from
the Spirit ; yet natural men, whatever gifts of the Spirit
they had, were not, in the usual language of the New
Testament, called spiritual persons. For it was not by
men's having the gifts, but the virtues ofthe Spirit, that they
are called spiritual ; a sis apparent, by Gal. vi. 1. " Brethren,
if any man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual,
restore such an one in the spirit of meekness." Meekness
is one of those virtues which the apostle had just spoken
of in the verses next preceding, showing what are the fruits
of the Spirit. Those qualifications, therefore, are said to
be spiritual in the language of the New Testament, which
are truly gracious, and peculiar to the saints.
Thus when we read of spiritual wisdom and understand
ing—as in Col. i. 9. " We desire that ye may be filled with
the knowledge of his will, in all wisdom and spiritual
understanding" — hereby is intended that wisdom which is
gracious, and from the sanctifying influences of the Spirit
of God. For, doubtless, by spiritual wisdom, is meant
that which is opposite to what the Scripture calls natural
wisdom ; as the spiritual man is opposed to the natural
man. And therefore spiritual wisdom is doubtless the
same with that wisdom which is from above, James iii. 17.
"The wisdom that is from above, is first pure, then peaceable,
gentle," &c. for this the apostle opposes to natural wisdom,
ver. 15. "This wisdom descendeth not from above, but is
earthly, sensual" — the last word in the original is the same
that is translated natural, in 1 Cor. ii. 14.
So that although natural men mav be the subjects of
many influences of the Spirit of God, as is evident by
many scriptures,f yet they are not in the sense the Scrip-
t As Num. xxiv. 2. 1 Sam. x. 10. and xi. 6. and xvi. 14 1 Cor. xiii. 1, 2, 3.
Heb. vi. 4, 5, 6. and many others.

Sect. I.

GRACIOUS AFFECTIONS ARE FROM DIVINE INFLUENCE.

ture, spiritual persons ; neither are any of those effects,
common gifts, qualities, or affections, that are from the in
fluence of the Spirit of God upon them, called spiritual
things. The great difference lies in these two things.
1 . The Spirit of God is given to the true saints to dwell
in them, as his proper lasting abode ; and to influence their
hearts, as a principle of new nature, or as a divine super
natural spring of life and action. The Scriptures represent
the Holy Spirit, not only as moving, and occasionally in
fluencing, the saints, but as dwelling in them as his temple,
his proper abode, and everlasting dwelling-place, (1 Cor.
iii. 16. 2 Cor. vi. 16. John xiv. 16, 17.) And he is repre
sented as being there so united to the faculties of the soul,
that he becomes there a principle or spring of a new nature
and life.
So the saints are said to live by Christ living in them,
Gal. ii. 20. Christ by his Spirit not only is in them, but
lives in them ; they live by his life. His Spirit is united
to them, as a principle of life in them. They not only
drink living water, but this living water becomes a well or
fountain of water, in the soul, springing up into spiritual
and everlasting life, John iv. 14. and thus becomes a
principle of life in them — this living water the evangelist
himself explains to intend the Spirit of God; (chap. vii.
38, 39.) The light of the Sun of righteousness does not
only shine upon them, but is so communicated to them that
they shine also, and become little images of that sun which
shines upon them. The sap of the true vine is not only
conveyed into them, as the sap of a tree may be conveyed
into a vessel, but is conveyed as sap is from a tree into one
of its living branches, where it becomes a principle of life.
The Spirit of God being thus communicated and united to
the saints, they are from thence properly denominated from
it, and are called spiritual.
On the other hand, though the Spirit of God may many
ways influence natural men ; yet because it is not thus
communicated to them, as an indwelling principle, they
do not derive any denomination or character from it ; for
there being no union, it is not their own. The light may
shine upon a body that is very dark or black ; and though
that body be the subject of the light, yet, because the light
becomes no principle of light to it, so as to cause the body
to shine, hence that body does not properly receive its
denomination from it, so as to be called a lightsome body.
So the Spirit of God acting upon the soul only, without
communicating itself to be an active principle in it, cannot
denominate it spiritual. A body that continues black, may
be said not to have light, though the light shines upon it :
so natural men are said not to have t/ie Spirit, Jude 19.
sensual or natural, as the word is elsewhere rendered, having
not the Spirit.
2. Another reason why the saints and their virtues are
called spiritual, (and which is the principal thing,) is, that
the Spirit of God, dwelling as a vital principle in the souls,
produces there those effects wherein he exerts and com
municates himself in his own proper nature. Holiness is
the nature of the Spirit of God, therefore he is called in
Scripture the Holy Ghost. Holiness, which is as it were
the beauty and sweetness of the divine nature, is as much
the proper nature of the Holy Spirit, as heat is the nature
of fire, or sweetness was the nature of that holy anointing
oil, which was the principal type of the Holy Ghost in the
Mosaic dispensation. Yea, I may rather say, that holiness
is as much the proper nature of the Holy Ghost, as sweet
ness was the nature of the sweet odour of that ointment.
The Spirit of God so dwells in the hearts of the saints,
that he there, as a seed or spring of life, exerts and com
municates himself, in this his sweet and divine nature.
He makes the soul a partaker of God's beauty and Christ's
joy, so that the saint has truly fellowship with the Father,
and with his Son Jesus Christ, in thus havingthe com
munion or participation of the Holy Ghost. The grace
which is in the hearts of the saints, is of the same nature
with the divine holiness, though infinitely less in degree ;
as the brightness in a diamond which the sun shines upon,
is of the same nature with the brightness of the sun, but
only that it is as nothing to it in degree. Therefore Christ
says, John iii. 6. " That which is born of the Spirit, is
spirit," i. e. the grace that is begotten in the hearts of the
saints, is something of the same nature with that Spirit,

265
and so is properly called a spiritual nature ; after the same
manner as that which is born of the flesh is flesh, or that
which is born of corrupt nature is corrupt nature.
But the Spirit of God never influences the minds of
natural men after this manner. Though he may influence
them many ways, yet he never, in any of his "influences,
communicates himself to them in his own proper nature.
Indeed he never acts disagreeably to his nature, either on
the minds of saints or sinners : but the Spirit of God may
act upon men agreeably to his own nature, and not exert
his proper nature in the acts and exercises of their minds.
The Spirit of God may act so, that his actions may be
agreeable to his nature, and yet may not at all communicate
himself in his proper nature, in the effect of that action.
Thus, for instance, the Spirit of God moved upon the face
of the waters, and there was nothing disagreeable to his
nature in that action ; but yet he did not at all communi
cate himself in that action, there was nothing of the proper
nature of the Holy Spirit in that motion of the waters.
And so he may act upon the minds of men many ways,
and not communicate himself any more than when he
acts on inanimate things.
Thus, not only the manner of the Spirit's relation to the
subject of his operations, is different; but the influence
and operation itself, and the effect wrought, exceeding dif
ferent. So that not only the persons are called spiritual,
as having the Spirit of God dwelling in them ; but those
qualifications, affections, and experiences that are wrought
in them by the Spirit, are also spiritual. Therein they
differ vastly in their nature and kind from all that a natural
man can be the subject of, while he remains in a natural
state ; and also from all that of which men or devils can
be the authors. It is a spiritual work in this high sense ;
and therefore above all other works is peculiar to the Spirit
of God. There is no work so high and excellent ; for there
is no work wherein God doth so much communicate him
self, and wherein the mere creature hath, in so high a
sense, a participation of God ; so that it is expressed in
Scripture by the saints being made partakers of the divine
nature, 2 Pet. i. 4. and having God dwelling in them, and
they in God, 1 John iv. 12, 15, 16. and chap. iii. 21. and
having Christ in them, John xvii. 21. Rom. viii. 10. being
the temples of the living God, 2 Cor. vi. 16. living by
Christ's life, Gal. ii. 20. being made partakers of Goers
holiness, Heb. xii. 10. having Christ s love dwelling in
them, John xvii. 26. having his joy fulfilled in them, John
xvii. 13. seeing light in God's light, and being made to
drink of the river of God's pleasures, Ps. xxxvi. 8, 9. hav
ing fellowship with God, or communicating and partaking
with him, (as the word signifies,) 1 John i. 3. Not that
the saints are made partakers of the essence of God — or
. godded with God, and christed with Christ, according to
the blasphemous language of some heretics — but, to use
the scripture phrase, they are made partakers of God's
fulness, (Eph. iii. 17—19. John i. 16.) that is, of God's
spiritual beauty and happiness, according to the measure
and capacity of a creature. So the word fulness signifies
in scripture language. Grace in the hearts of the saint-
being therefore the most glorious work of God, wherein
he communicates of the goodness of his nature, it is
doubtless his peculiar work, and in an eminent manner
above the power of all creatures. And this is what I mean
by those influences that are divine, when I say, that truly
gracious affections arise from those influences that are
spiritual and divine.
True saints only have that which is spiritual ; others not
only have not these communications of the Spirit in so
high a degree as the saints, but have nothing of that nature
or kind. For the apostle James tells us, that natural men
have not the Spirit ; and Christ teaches the necessity of a
new birth, or a being born of the Spirit, from this, that he
that is born of the flesh, has only flesh, and no spirit, John
iii. 6. They have not the Spirit of God dwelling in them
in any degree ; for the apostle teaches, that all who have
the Spirit of God dwelling in them are his, Rom. viii. 9 —
11. And, having the Spirit of God is spoken of as a cer
tain sign, that persons shall have the eternal inheritance ;
for it is the earnest of it, (2 Cor. i. 22. and v. 5. Eph. i. 14.)
and having any thing of the Spirit is mentioned as a sure
sign of being in Christ, 1 John iv. 13. " Hereby know we

266

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

that we dwell in him, because he hath given us of his
Spirit." Ungodly men not only have not so much of the
divine nature as the saints, but they are not partakers of
it ; which implies that they have nothing of it; for a being
partaker of the divine nature is spoken of as the peculiar
privilege of the true saints, 2 Pet. i. 4. Ungodly men are
not partakers of God's holiness, Heb. xii. 10. A natural
man has no experience of those things that are spiritual :
he is so far from it, that he knows nothing about them,
and is a perfect stranger to them. To talk about such
things is all foolishness to him, he knows not what it
means, 1 Cor. ii. 14. " The natural man receiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God ; for they are foolishness to
him : neither can he know them, because they are spiritu
ally discerned." And to the like purpose Christ teaches
us that the world is wholly unacquainted with the Spirit
of God, John xiv. 17. " Even the Spirit of truth, whom
the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither
knoweth him." And it is further evident, that natural
men have nothing in them of the same nature with the true
grace of the saints, because the apostle teaches us, that
those of them who go farthest in religion, have no charity,
or true christian love, (1 Cor. chap, xiii.) So Christ else
where reproves the Pharisees, those high pretenders to re
ligion, that they had not the love of God in them, John v.
42. Hence natural men have no communion or fellow
ship with Christ, or participation with him, as these words
signify, for this is spoken of as the peculiar privilege ofthe
saints, (1 John i. 3, 6, 7. and 1 Cor. i. 8, 9.) And the
Scripture speaks of the actual existence of a gracious prin
ciple in the soul, though in its first beginning, like a seed
planted there, as inconsistent with a man's being a sinner,
1 John iii. 9. And natural men are represented in Scrip
ture, as having no spiritual light, no spiritual life, and no
spiritual being ; and therefore conversion is often com
pared to opening the eyes ofthe blind, raising the dead, and
a work of creation, wherein creatures are made entirely
new, and becoming new-born children.
From these things it is evident, that those gracious in
fluences ofthe saints, and the effects of God's Spirit which
they experience, are entirely above nature, and altogether
of a different kind from any thing that men find in them
selves by the exercise of natural principles. No improve
ment of those principles that are natural, no advancing or
exalting of them to higher degrees, and no kind of compo
sition, will ever bring men to them ; because they not only
differ from what is natural, and from every thing that
natural men experience, in degree and circumstances, but
also in kind ; and are of a nature vastly more excellent.
And this is what I mean by supernatural, when I say, that
gracious affections are from those influences that are super
natural. From hence it follows, that in those gracious exercises
and affections which are wrought in the saints, through the
saving influences of the Spirit of God, there is a new in
ward perception or sensation of their minds, entirely dif
ferent in its nature and kind from any thing that ever their
minds were the subjects of before they were sanctified.
For, if God by his mighty power produces something that
is new, not only in degree and circumstances, but in its
whole nature — all that which could be produced by no
exalting, varying, or compounding of what was there be
fore, or by adding any thing of the like kind — then, doubt
less, something entirely new is felt, or perceived. There
is what some metaphysicians call a new simple idea. If
grace be, in the sense above described, an entirely new
kind of principle ; then the exercises of it are also new.
And if there be in the soul a new sort of conscious exer
cises, which the soul knew nothing of before, and which
no improvement, composition, or management of what it
was before could produce; then, it follows that the mind
has an entirely new kind of perception or sensation. Here
is, as it were, a new spiritual sense, or a principle of new
kind of perception or spiritual sensation, which is in its
whole nature different from any former kinds of sensation
of the mind, as tasting is diverse from any of the other
senses. And something is perceived by a true saint, in the
exercise of 'this new sense of mind in spiritual and divine
things, as entirely diverse from any thing that is perceived
in them by natural men, as the sweet taste of honey is di

verse from the ideas men get of honey by only looking on
and feeling it. So that the spiritual perceptions which a
sanctified and spiritual person has, are not only diverse
from all that natural men have as the perceptions of the
same sense may differ one from another, but rather as the
ideas and sensations of different senses differ. Hence the
work of the Spirit of God in regeneration is often in Scrip
ture compared to the giving of a new sense, eyes to see,
ears to hear, unstopping the ears of the deaf, opening the
eyes of them that were born blind, and turning from dark
ness unto light. And because this spiritual sense is im
mensely the most noble and excellent, and that without
which all other principles of perception, and all our facul
ties, are useless and vain ; therefore the giving of this new
sense, with the blessed fruits and effects of it in the soul,
is compared to raising the dead, and to a new creation.
This new spiritual sense, and the new dispositions that
attend it, are no new faculties, but new principles of na
ture : I use the word principles, for want of a word of a
more determinate signification. By a principle of nature
in this place, I mean that foundation which is laid in na
ture, either old or new, for any particular manner or kind
of exercise of the faculties of the soul ; or a natural habit,
or foundation for action, giving a person ability and dispo
sition to exert the faculties in exercises of such a certain kind ;
so that to exert the faculties in that kind of exercises, may be
said to be his nature. So this new spiritual sense is not anew
faculty of understanding, but it is a new foundation laid in
the nature of the soul, for a new kind of exercises of thesame
faculty of understanding. So that the new holy disposition
of heart that attends this new sense, is not a new faculty of
will, but a foundation laid in the nature of the soul, for a
new kind of exercises of the same faculty of will .
The Spirit of God, in all his operations upon the minds
of natural men, only moves, impresses, assists, improves,
or some way acts upon natural principles ; but gives no
new spiritual principle. Thus when the Spirit of God gives
a natural man visions, as he did Balaam, he only impresses
a natural principle — the sense of seeing, immediately ex
citing ideas of that sense — but gives no new sense ; neither
is there any thing supernatural, spiritual, or divine in it.
If the Spirit of God impresses on a man's imagination,
either in a dream, or when he is awake, any outward ideas
of any of the senses, either voices or shapes and colours, it
is only exciting ideas of the same kind that he has by na
tural principles and senses. So if God reveals to a natural
man any secret fact; for instance, something that he shall
hereafter see or hear ; this is not infusing or exercising any
new spiritual principle, or giving the ideas of any new
spiritual sense ; it is only impressing, in an extraordinary
manner, the ideas that will hereafter be received by sight
and hearing. So in the more ordinary influences of the
Spirit of God on the hearts of sinners, he only assists na
tural principles to do the same work to a greater degree,
which they do of themselves by nature. Thus the Spirit
of God by his common influences may assist men's natural
ingenuity, as he assisted Bezaleel and Aholiab in the curi
ous works ofthe tabernacle. He may assist men's natural
abilities in political affairs, and improve their courage and
other natural qualifications ; as he is said to have put his
Spirit on the seventy elders, and on Saul, so as to give him
another heart. God may greatly assist Datural men's rea
son, in their reasoning about secular things, or about the
doctrines of religion, and may greatly advance the clear
ness of their apprehensions and notions in many respects,
without giving any spiritual sense. So in those awaken
ings and convictions that natural men may have, God only
assists conscience, which is a natural principle, to do that
work in a further degree, which it naturally does. Con
science naturally gives men an apprehension of right and
wrong, and suggests the relation there is between them and
a retribution. The Spirit of God assists men's consciences
to do this in a greater degree, and against the stupifying
influence of worldly objects and their lusts. Many other
ways might be mentioned, wherein the Spirit acts upon,
assists, and moves natural principles; but after all, it is no
more than nature moved, acted, and improved ; here is
nothing supernatural and divine. But the Spirit of God in
his spiritual influences on the hearts of his saints, operates
by infusing or exercising new, divine, and supernatural

Sect. I.

GRACIOUS AFFECTIONS ARE FROM DIVINE INFLUENCE.

207

principles; principles which are indeed a new and spiritual
nature, and principles vastly more noble and excellent than
all that is in natural men.
From what has been said it follows, that all spiritual and
gracious affections are attended with, and arise from, some
apprehension, idea, or sensation of mind, which is in its
whole nature different, yea exceeding different, from all
that is or can be in the mind of a natural man. The na
tural man discerns nothing of it, (1 Cor. ii. 14.) any more
than a man without the sense of tasting can conceive ofthe
sweet taste of honey ; or a man without the sense of hear
ing can conceive of the melody of a tune ; or a man born
blind can have a notion of the beauty ofthe rainbow.
But here two things must be observed, in order to the
right understanding of this.
1 . On the one hand it must be observed, that not every
thing which appertains to spiritual affections, is new and
entirely different from what natural men experience ; some
things are common to gracious affections with other affec
tions ; many circumstances, appendages, and effects are
common. Thus a saint's love to God has a great many
things appertaining to it, which are common with a man's
natural love to a near relation. Love to God makes a man
seek the honour of God, and desire to please him ; so does
a natural man's love to his friend make him desire his
honour, and to please him. Love to God causes a man to
delight in the thoughts of him, in his presence ; to desire
conformity to God, and the enjoyment of him ; and so it is
with a man's love to his friend. Many other things might
be mentioned which are common to both. But yet, that
idea which the saint has of the loveliness of God, and the
kind of delight he has in that view which is as it were the
marrow and quintessence of his love, is peculiar, and en
tirely diverse from any thing that a natural man has, or
can have any notion of. And even in those things that
seem to be common, there is something peculiar. Both
spiritual love and natural, cause desires after the object be
loved ; but they are not the same sort of desires ; there is
a sensation of soul in the spiritual desires of one that loves
God, which is entirely different from all natural desires.
Both spiritual and natural love are attended with delight
in the object beloved ; but the sensations of delight are not
the same, but entirely and exceedingly diverse. Natural men
may have conceptions of many things about spiritual affec
tions ; but there is something in them which is as it were
the nucleus, or kernel, of which they have no more concep
tions, than one born blind has of colours.
It may be clearly illustrated thus : we will suppose two
men ; one, born without the sense of tasting, the other with
it. The latter loves honey, because he knows the sweet
taste of it ; the other loves certain sounds and colours. The
love of each has many things in common ; it causes both to
desire and delight in the object beloved, causes grief when
it is absent, &c. but yet that sensation which he, who
knows the taste of honey, has of its excellency and sweet
ness, as the foundation of his love, is entirely different from
any thing the other has or can have. So both these per
sons may in some respects love the same object. The one
may love a delicious kind of fruit, not only because he has
seen its pleasant colours, but knows its sweet taste ; the
other, perfectly ignorant of the latter, loves it only for its
beautiful colours. Many things seem, in some respect, to
be common to both ; both love, both desire, and both de
light ; but the love, desire, and delight of the one, is alto
gether diverse from that of the other. The difference be
tween the love of a natural and spiritual man resembles
this ; but only it must be observed, that the kinds of excel
lency perceived in spiritual objects, by these different kinds
of persons, are in themselves vastly more diverse than the
different kinds of excellency perceived in delicious fruit by
a tasting and a tasteless man. In another respect, it may
not be so great, viz. as the spiritual man may have a sense
to perceive that divine and most peculiar excellency but in
small beginnings, and in a very imperfect degree.
2. On the other hand, it must be observed, that a natural
man may have religious apprehensions and affections,
which maybe, in many respects, very new and surprising
to him ; and yet what he experiences, be nothing like the
exercises of a new nature. His affections may be very new,
in a very new degree, with a great many new circum

stances, a new co-operation of natural affections, and a new
composition of ideas. This may be from some extraordi
nary powerful influence of Satan, and some great delusion.
There is nothing, however, but nature extraordinarily act
ed. As if a poor man who had always dwelt in a cottage,
and had never looked beyond the obscure village where he
was born, should, in a jest, be taken to a magnificent city
and prince's court, and be there arrayed in princely robes,
and set in the throne, with the crown royal on his head,
peers and nobles bowing before him— and should be made
to believe that he was now a glorious monarch — his ideas,
and the affections he would experience, would in many re
spects be very new, and such as he had no imagination of
before. Yet who would suppose, that what was done to
him was any thing more than extraordinarily raising and
exciting natural principles, and newly exalting, varying,
and compounding such sort of ideas as he had by nature ?
Who would infer, that this was giving him a new sense ?
Upon the whole, I think it is clearly manifest, that all
truly gracious affections arise from special and peculiar in
fluences of the Spirit, working that sensible effect or sensa
tion in the souls of the saints, which are entirely different
from all that is possible a natural man should experience ;
different, not only in degree and circumstances, but in its
whole nature. So that a natural man not only cannot ex
perience that which is individually the same, but cannot
experience any thing but what is exceedingly diverse, and
immensely below it, in its kind ; and that which the power
of men or devils is not sufficient to produce, or any thing
of the same nature.
I have insisted the more largely on this matter, because
this view of the subject is evidently of great importance and
use, in order to discover the delusions of Satan, in many
kinds of false religious affections, by which multitudes are
deluded, and probably have been in all ages of the chris
tian church ; also in order to settle and determine many
articles of doctrine, concerning the operations of the Spirit
of God, and the nature of true grace. — Let us now, there
fore, apply these things to the purpose of this discourse.
From hence it appears, that impressions which some
have on their imagination — their imaginary ideas of God,
or Christ, or heaven, or any thing appertaining to religion —
have nothing in thein that is spiritual, or of the nature of
true grace. Though such things may attend what is
spiritual, and be mixed with it, yet in themselves they are
not any part of gracious experience.
Here, for the sake of the less informed, I will explain
what is intended by impressions on the imagination, and
imaginary ideas. Ihe imagination is that power of the
mind, whereby it can have a conception, or idea, of exter
nal things, or objects of the outward senses, when those
things are not present, and therefore not perceived by the
senses. It is called imagination, from the word image ;
because thereby a person can have an image of some exter
nal thing in his mind, when that thing is not present in
reality, nor any thing like it. What we perceive by our five
senses, seeing, hearing, smelting, tasting, and feeling, are
external things : and when a person has an image of these
things in his mind, but does not really see, hear, smell,
taste, nor feel them ; that is to have an imagination of
them, and these ideas are imaginary ideas. When such
ideas are strongly impressed upon the mind, and the image
is very lively, almost as if one saw, or heard them, &c.
that is .palled an impression on the imagination. Thus
colours and shapes are outward things, objects of the out
ward sense of seeing : therefore, when any person has in his
mind a lively idea of any shape, or colour, or form of
countenance ; of light or darkness, such as he perceives by
the sense of seeing ; of any marks made on paper, suppose
letters and words written in a book : that is to have an
imagination, or an external and imaginary idea of such
things as we sometimes perceive by our bodily eyes.
And when we have the ideas of sounds, voices, or words
spoken ; this is only to have ideas of outward things, per
ceived by the external sense of hearing, and so that also is
imagination. When these ideas are impressed with liveli
ness, almost as if they were really heard with the ears, this
is to have an impression on the imagination. And so I
might instance in the ideas of things appertaining to tho
other three senses of smelling, tasting, and feeling.

268

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

Many who have had such things, have ignorantly sup
posed them to be of the nature of spiritual discoveries.
They have had lively ideas of some external shape, and
beautiful form of countenance ; and this they call spiritual
ly seeing Christ. Some have had impressed upon them
ideas of a great outward light ; and this they call a spiritual
discovery of God's or Christ's glory. Some have had ideas
of Christ hanging on the cross, and his blood running from
his wounds ; and this they call a spiritual sight of Christ
crucified, and the way of salvation by his blood. Some
have seen him with his arms open ready to embrace them ;
and this they call a discovery of the sufficiency of Christ's
grace and love. Some have had lively ideas of heaven,
and of Christ on his throne there, and shining ranks of
saints and angels ; and this they call seeing heaven opened
to them. Some from time to time have had a lively idea of
a person of a beautiful countenance smiling upon them;
and this they call a spiritual discovery of the love of Christ
to their souls, and tasting the love of Christ. And they
look upon it a sufficient evidence that these things are
spiritual discoveries, and that they see them spiritually,
because they say they do not see these things with their
bodily eyes, but in their hearts ; for they can see them
when their eyes are shut. And in like manner, the ima
ginations of some have been impressed with ideas of
the sense of hearing ; they have had ideas of words, as if
they were spoken to them, sometimes the words of Scrip
ture, and sometimes other words. They have had ideas of
Christ speaking comfortable words to them. These things
they have called having the inward call of Christ, hearing
the voice of Christ spiritually in their hearts, having the
witness of the Spirit, the inward testimony of the love of
Christ, &c.
The common and less considerate sort of people, are
the more easily led into apprehensions that these are spi
ritual things, because, spiritual things being invisible, we
are forced to use figurative expressions in speaking of them,
and to borrow names from sensible objects by which to
signify them. Thus we call a clear apprehension of things
spiritual by the name of light ; and having an apprehen
sion of things, by the name of seeing such things. The
conviction of the judgment, and the persuasion of the will,
bv the word of Christ in the gospel, we signify by spirits
ally hearing the call of Christ. The Scripture itself abounds
with such like figurative expressions. Persons hearing
these often used, and having pressed upon them the neces
sity of having their eyes opened, of having a discovery of
spiritual things, seeing Christ in his glory, having the in
ward call, and the like, they ignorantly look and wait for
some external discoveries, and imaginary views. And
when they have them, they are confident that now their
eyes are opened, now Christ has discovered himself to
them, and they are his children ; and hence they are ex
ceedingly affected and elevated with their deliverance,
and many kinds of affections are at once set in a violent
motion. But it is exceedingly apparent that such ideas have
nothing in them which is spiritual and divine, in the sense
wherein it has been demonstrated that all gracious experi
ences are spiritual and divine. These external ideas are
in no wise entirely, and in their whole nature, diverse from
all that men have by nature : so far from this, they are of :
the same sort which we have by the external senses, among
the inferior powers of human nature. They are r merely
ideas of external objects, of the outward sensitive kind ;
the same sort of sensations of mind (differing not in de
gree, but only in circumstances) that we have by those
natural principles which are common to us with the beasts.
* " Conceits and whimsies abound most in men of weak reason ; chil
dren, and such as are cracked in their understanding, have most of them ;
strength of reason banishes them, as the sun does mists and vapours. But
now the more rational any gracious person is, by so much more is he fixed
and settled, and satisfied m the grounds of religion : yea, there is the high
est and purest reason in religion ; and when this change is wrought upon
men, it is carried on in a rational way, Isa. L 18. John xix. 9." Flavel's
Preparation for Sufferings, chap. vi.
t " If any man should see and behold Christ really, immediately, this is
not the saving knowledge of him. I know the saints do know Christ as if
immediately present : they are not strangers by their distance : if others
have seen them more immediately, I will not dispute it But if they have
seen the Lord Jesus as immediately as if here on earth, yet Capemaum saw
him so ; nay some of them were disciples for a time, and followed him,
John vi And yet the Lord was hid from their eyes. Nay, all the world
shall see him in his glory, which shall amaze them ; and yet this is far short

This is a low, miserable notion of spiritual sense, to sup
pose that it is only a conceiving or imagining that sort of
ideas which we have by our animal senses, which senses
the beasts have in as great perfection as we. Is this any
thing better than, as it were, a turning of Christ, or the
divine nature in the soul, into a mere animal ? Is there
any thing wanting in the soul, as it is by nature, to render
it capable of being the subject of all these external ideas,
without any new principles ? A natural man is capable of
having an idea, and a lively idea, of shapes, and colours,
and sounds, when they are absent, even as capable as a
regenerate man is : so there is nothing supernatural in
them. And it is known by abundant experience, that it is
not the advancing or perfecting of human nature, which
makes persons more capable of having such lively and
strong imaginary ideas ; but on the contrary, the weakness
of body and mind, makes persons abundantly more sus
ceptive of such impressions.*
As to a truly spiritual sensation, not only is the manner
of its coming into the mind extraordinary, but the sensa
tion itself is totally diverse from all that men have, or can
have, in a state of nature, as has been shown. But as to
these external ideas, though the way of their coming into
the mind is sometimes unusual, yet the ideas in them
selves are not the better for that ; they are still of no dif
ferent sort from what men have by their senses ; they are
of no higher kind, nor a whit better. For instance, the
external idea a man has now of Christ hanging on the
cross, and shedding his blood, is no better in itself, than
the external idea that the Jews his enemies had, who
stood round his cross, and saw this with their bodily eyes.
The imaginary idea which men have now of an external
brightness and glory of God, is no better than the idea the
wicked congregation in the wilderness had of the external
glory of the Lord at mount Sinai, when they saw it with
bodily eyes ; or any better than that idea which millions
of cursed reprobates will have of the external glory of
Christ at the day of judgment, who shall see and have a
very lively idea of ten thousand times greater external
glory of Christ, than ever yet was conceived in any man's
lmagination.f Is the image of Christ which men con
ceive in their imaginations, in its own nature, of any supe
rior kind to the idea the papists conceive of Christ, by the
beautiful and affecting images of him which they see in
their churches? Are the affections they have, if built
primarily on such imaginations, any better than the affec
tions raised in ignorant people, by the sight of those
images, which oftentimes are very great ; especially when
these images, through the craft of the priests, are made to
move, speak, weep, and the like ?t Merely the way of
persons receiving these imaginary ideas, does not alter the
nature of the ideas themselves that are received : let them
be received in what way they will, they are still but exter
nal ideas, or ideas of outward appearances, and so are not
spiritual. Yea, if men should actually receive such exter
nal ideas by the immediate power of the most high God
upon their minds, they would not be spiritual, they should
be no more than a common work of the Spirit of God ; as
is evident in fact, in the instance of Balaam, who had
impressed on his mind, by God himself, a clear and lively
outward representation or idea of Jesus Christ, as the Star
rising out of Jacob, when he heard the words of God, and
knew the knowledge of the Most High, and saw the vision
ofthe Almighty, falling into a trance, Numb. xxiv. 16, 17.
But Balaam had no spiritual discovery of Christ; that
day-star never spiritually rose in his heart, he being but a
natural man.
And as these external ideas have nothing divine or
of having the saving knowledge of him, which the Lord doth communicate
to the elect So that though you see the Lord so really, as that you become
familiar with him, yet, Luke xiii. 26. Lord, have we not eat and drank, &C.
— and so perish." Shepard's Parable ofthe Ten Virgins, P. I. p. 197, 198.
J " Satan is transformed into an angel of light : and'heoce we have heard
that some have heard voices ; some nave seen the very blood of Christ
dropping on them, and his wounds in his side ; some have seen a great fight
shining in the chamber; some wonderfully affected with their dreams;
some in great distress have had inward witness, Thy sins are forgiven ;
and hence such liberty and joy. that they are ready to leap up and down
the chamber. O adulterous generation ! this is natural and usual with
men, they would fain see Jesus, and have him present to give them peace ;
and hence papists have his images — Woe to them that have no other mani
fested Christ, but such an one." Shepard's Parable ofthe Ten Virgins, P.

Sect. I.

GRACIOUS AFFECTIONS ARE FROM DIVINE INFLUENCE.

269

spiritual in their nature, and nothing but what natural
men, without any new principles, are capable of; so there
is nothing in their nature which requires that peculiar
inimitable and unparalleled exercise of the glorious power
of God, in order to their production, which it has been
shown there is in the production of true grace. There
appears to be nothing in their nature above the power of
the devil. It is certainly not above the power of Satan to
suggest thoughts to men ; because otherwise he could not
tempt them to sin. And if he can suggest any thoughts or
ideas at all, doubtless imaginary ones, or ideas of things
external, are not above his power ;* for these are the
lowest sort of ideas. These ideas may be raised only by
impressions made on the body, by moving the animal
spirits, and impressing the brain. Abundant experience
certainly shows, that alterations in the body will excite
imaginary ideas in the mind ; as in a high fever, melan
choly, &c. These external ideas are as much below the
more intellectual exercises of the soul, as the body is a
less noble part of man than the soul.
Again, there is not only nothing in the nature of these
imaginations of outward appearances, from whence we
can infer that they are above the power of the devil ; but
it is certain also that the devil can excite, and often hath
excited, such ideas. They were external ideas which he ex
cited in the dreams and visions ofthe false prophets of old,
who were under the influence of lying spirits-T And they
were external ideas that he often excited in the minds of
the heathen priests, magicians, and sorcerers, in their
visions and ecstasies ; and they were external ideas that he
excited in the mind of the man Christ Jesus, when he
showed him all the kingdoms of the world, with the glory
of them, when those kingdoms were not really in sight.
And if Satan, or any created being, has power to impress
the mind with outward representations, then no particular
sort of outward representations can be any evidence of a
divine power. Is almighty power any more requisite to
represent the shape of man to the imagination, than the
shape of any thing else ? Is there any higher kind of power
necessary to form in the brain one bodily shape or colour
than another ? Does it need a power any more glorious
to represent the form of the body of man, than the form of
a chip or block ; though it be of a very beautiful human
body, with a sweet smile in his countenance, or arms
open, or blood running from hands, feet, and side ? May
not that sort of power which can represent blackness or
darkness to the imagination, also represent white and
shining brightness ? May not the power and skill which
can well and exactly paint a straw, or a stick, on a piece of
paper or canvass, only perhaps further improved, be suf
ficient to paint the body of a man, with great beauty and
in royal majesty, or a magnificent city, paved with gold,
full of brightness, and a glorious throne ? So it is no more
than the same sort of power, that is requisite to paint one
* " Consider how difficult, yea and impossible, it is to determine that
such a voice, vision, or revelation is of God, and that Satan cannot feign or
counterfeit it ; seeing he hath left no certain marks by which we may .dis
tinguish one spirit from another." Flavel's Causes and Cures of Mental
Errors, Cause 14.
t See Deut xiii. 1. 1 Kings xxii. 22. Isa. xxviii. 7. Ezek. xiii. 7. Zech.
xiii. 4.
X There is a remarkable passage of Mr. John Smith, in his discourse on
the shortness of a Pharisaic righteousness, p. 370, 371. of bis select dis
courses, describing that sort of religion which is built on such a foundation
as I am here speaking of. I cannot forbear transcribing the whole of it
Sneaking of a sort of Christians, whose life is nothing but a strong energy
of fancy, he says, " Lest their religion might too grossly discover itself to
be nothing else but a piece of art, there may be sometimes such extraordi
nary motions stirred up within them, which may prevent all their own
thoughts, that they may seem to be a true operation of the divine life ; when
yet all this is nothing else but the energy of their own self-love, touched
with some fleshly apprehensions of divine things, and excited by them.
There are such things in our christian religion, when a carnal, unhallowed
mind takes the chair, and gets the expounding of them, may seem very
delicious to the fleshly appetites of men ; some doctrines and notions of free
grace and justification, the magnificent titles of sons of God and heirs of
heaven, ever-flowing streams of joy and pleasure that blessed souls shall
swim in to all eternity, a glorious paradise in the world to come, always
springing up with well-scented and fragrant beauties, a new Jerusalem
paved with gold, and bespangled with stars, comprehending in its vast cir
cuit such numberless varieties, that a busy curiosity may spend itself about
to all eternity. I doubt not but that sometimes the most fleshly and earthly
men, that fly in their ambition to the pomp of this world, may be so ravish
ed with the conceits of such things as these, that they may seem to be made
partakers of the powers of the world to come. I doubt not but that they
might be much exalted with them, as the souls of crazed or distracted per
sons seem to be sometimes, when their fancies play with those quick and
nimble spirits, which a distempered frame of body, and unnatural heat in
their heads, beget within them. Thus may these blazing comets rise up
above the moon, and climb higher than the sun : which yet, because they
have no solid consistence of their own, and are of a base and earthly alloy,

as the other of these on the brain. The same sort of power
that can put ink upon paper, can put on leaf-gold. So
that it is evident to a demonstration, if we suppose it to be
in the devil's power to make any sort of external repre
sentation at all on the fancy— and never any one ques
tioned it who believed there was a devil, that had any
agency with mankind — that a created power may extend
to all kinds of external appearances and ideas in the mind.
From hence it again clearly appears, that no such things
have any thing in them that is spiritual, supernatural, and
divine, in the sense in which it has been proved that all
truly gracious experiences have. And though external
ideas, through man's make and frame, ordinarily in some
degree attend spiritual experiences ; yet these ideas are no
part of their spiritual experience, any more than the motion
of the blood, and beating of the pulse. And though, un
doubtedly, through men's infirmity in the present state,
and especially through the weak constitution of some per
sons, gracious affections which are very strong, do excite
lively ideas in the imagination ; yet it is also undoubted,
that when affections are founded on imaginations, which is
often the case, those affections are merely natural and com
mon, because they are built on a foundation that is not
spiritual ; and so are entirely different from gracious affec
tions, which, as has been proved, do evermore arise from
those operations that are spiritual and divine.
These imaginations oftentimes raise the carnal affections
of men to an exceeding great height :J and no wonder,
when the subjects of them have an ignorant but undoubt-
ing persuasion, that they are divine manifestations, which
the great Jehovah immediately makes to their souls,
therein giving them testimonies, in an extraordinary man
ner, of his high and peculiar favour.
Again, it is evident from what has been observed and
proved of the manner in which gracious operations and
effects in the heart are spiritual, supernatural, and divine,
that the immediate suggesting of the words of Scripture to
the mind, has nothing in it which is spiritual. — I have had
occasion to say something of this already ; and what has
been said may be sufficient to evince it : but if the reader
bears in mind what has been said concerning the nature of
spiritual influences and effects, it will be more abundantly
manifest that this is no spiritual effect. For I suppose
there is no person of common understanding, who will
say, that the bringing of any words to the mind, is an effect
of that nature, that it requires any new divine sense in the
soul ; or that the bringing of sounds or letters to the mind,
is an effect of so high, holy, and excellent a nature, that it
is impossible any created power should be the cause of it.
As the sugaesting of scripture words to the mind, is only
exciting in the mind ideas of certain sounds or letters ; so
it is only one way of exciting ideas in the imagination ;
for sounds and letters are external things, the objects of
the external senses of seeing and hearing; therefore, by
will soon vanish and fall down again, being only borne up by an external
force. They may seem to themselves to have attained higher than those
noble Christians, that are gently moved by the natural force of true good
ness : they seem to be pleniores Deo, (i. e. more full of God,) than those
that are really informed and actuated by the divine Spirit, and do move on
steadily and constantly in the way towards heaven. As the seed that was
sown in stony ground, grew up and lengthened out its blade faster, than
that which was sown in the good and fruitful soil. And as the morions of
our sense, and fancy, and passions, while our souls are in this mortal con
dition, sunk down deeply into the body, are many times more vigorous, and
make stronger impressions upon us, than those of the higher powers ofthe
soul, which are more subtle, and remote from these mixt animal percep
tions : that devotion which is there seated, may seem to have more energy
and life in it, than that which gently, and with a more delicate kind of touch,
spreads itself upon the understanding, and from thence mildly derives itself
through our wills and affections. But however the former may be more
boisterous for a time, yet this is of a more consistent, spermatica], and
thriving nature. For that proceeding indeed from nothing but a sensual and
fleshly apprehension of God and true happiness, is but of a flitting and fading
nature ; and as the sensible powers and faculties grow more languid, or the
sun of divine light shines more brightly upon us, these earthly devotions,
like our culinary fires, will abate their heat and fervour. But a true ce
lestial warmth will never be extinguished, because it is of an immortal na
ture ; and being once seated vitally in the souls of men, it will regulate and
order all the motions of it in a due manner ; as the natural heat, radicated
in the hearts of living creatures, hath the dominion and economy of the
whole body under it. True religion is no piece of artifice ; it is no boiling
up of our imaginative powers, nor the glowing heats of passion ; though
these are too often mistaken for it, when in our jngglings in religion we cast
a mist before our own eyes ; but it is a new nature, informing the souls of
men; it is a God-like frame of spirit, discovering itself most of all in serene
and clear minds, in deep humility, meekness, self-denial, universal love to
God and all true goodness, without partiality, and without hypocrisy,
whereby we are taught to know God, and knowing him, to love mm, and
conform ourselves as much as may be to all that perfection which shines in
him "

270

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

what has been already said concerning these external ideas,
it is evident they are nothing spiritual ; and if at any time
the Spirit of God suggests these letters or sounds to the
mind, this is a common, and not any special or gracious, in
fluence of that Spirit. And therefore it follows from what
has been already proved, that those affections which have
this effect for their foundation, are no spiritual or gracious
affections. — But let it be remembered, that what I main
tain is briefly this : when the immediate and extraordinary
manner of words of Scripture coming to the mind, is that
which excites the affections, and is properly the foundation
of them, then these affections are not spiritual. Indeed
persons may have gracious affections going with scriptures
which come to their minds, and the Spirit of God may
make use of those scriptures to excite them ; when it is a
spiritual sense or taste they have of the divine things con
tained in those scriptures, which excites their affections,
and not the extraordinary and sudden manner of their
entrance. They are affected with the instruction they re
ceive from the words, and the view of the glorious things
of God or Christ, which they contain ; and not because
the words came suddenly, as though God did as it were
immediately speak to them. Persons oftentimes are ex
ceedingly affected on this foundation ; the words of some
great promises of Scripture come suddenly to their minds,
as though that moment they proceeded out of the mouth
of God as spoken to them. Thus they take it as a voice
from God, immediately revealing to them their happy cir
cumstances, and promising them such and such great
things : and this it is that affects and elevates them. There
is no new or spiritual understanding of the divine things
contained in the Scripture, or new spiritual sense of the
glorious things taught in that part of the Bible, going be
fore their affection, and as the foundation of it: all the
new understanding they have, or think they have, as the
foundation of their affection, is this, that the words are
spoken to them, because they come so suddenly and in so
extraordinary a manner. And so this affection is built
wholly on the sand ; because it is built on a conclusion
for which they have no foundation. And if it was true
that God brought the words to their minds, and they cer
tainly knew it, even that would not be spiritual know
ledge; it mav be without any spiritual sense. Balaam
might know that the words which God suggested to him,
were indeed suggested to him by God, and yet have no
spiritual knowledge. So that affections built on that no
tion, that texts of Scripture are sent immediately from God,
are built on no spiritual foundation, apd are vain and
delusive. Persons who have their affections thus raised,
if they should be asked, whether they have any new sense
of the excellency of the things contained in those scrip
tures, would probably say, Yes, without hesitation : but
it is true no otherwise than because they have taken up
that notion, that the words are spoken immediately to
them. That it is which makes them appear sweet, ex
cellent, and wonderful. As for instance, supposing these
were the words brought suddenly to their minds, Fear
not, — it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the
kingdom. Having confidently taken up a notion that the
words were immediately spoken from heaven to them, as
an immediate revelation, that God was their Father, and
had given the kingdom to them, they are greatly affected by
it, and the words seem sweet to them. Oh, say they,
what excellent things are contained in those words ! But
* Personal and possessive. — These words are added for the sake of per
spicuity ; for this must be the author's meaning. The promises, it is plain,
must needs be ours by grant, exhibitory gift, or overture, and in that sense
we have an interest in them, before we believe ; and this is the very foun
dation of our warrant for believing. — W.
t Mr. Stoddard in his Guide to Christ, p. 8. says, that "sometimes men,
after they have been in trouble awhile, have some promises come to them,
with a great deal of refreshing ; and they hope God has accented them :"
And says, that " In this case, the minister may tell them, that God never
gives a faith of assurance, before he gives a faith of dependence ; for he
never manifests his love, until men arc in a state of favour and reconcilia
tion, which is by faith of dependence. When men have comfortable scriptures
come to them, they are apt to take them as tokens of God's love ; but men
must be brought into Christ, by accepting the offer ofthe gospel, before they
are fit for such manifestations. God's method is, first to make the soul
accept of the offers of grace, and then to manifest his good estate unto
him." And p. 76. speaking of them " that seem to be brought to lie at
God's foot, and give an account of their closing with Christ, and that God
has revealed Christ to them, and drawn their hearts to him, and that they
do accept of Christ," he says, " In this case, it is best to examine whether
by that light that was given him, he saw Christ and salvation offered to him,
or whether he saw that God loved him, or pardoned him : for the offer of

the reason why the promise seems excellent to them, is
only because they think it is made to them immediately :
all the sense they have of any glory in them, is only from
self-love, and from their own imagined interest in the
words. They had not any sense of the holy nature ofthe
kingdom of heaven, the spiritual glory of that God who
gives it, and of his excellent grace to sinful men, in giving
them this kingdom of his own good pleasure, preceding
their imagined interest in these things, and their being
affected by them. On the contrary, they first imagine
they are interested in these things, then are highly affected
with that consideration, and then can own these things to
be excellent. So that the sudden and extraordinary way
of the scripture's coming to their mind, is plainly the
foundation of the whole ; which is a clear evidence of the
wretched delusion they are under.
The first comfort of many persons, and what they call
their conversion, is after this manner: after awakening
and terrors, some comfortable promise comes suddenly
and wonderfully to their minds ; and the manner of its
coming makes them conclude it comes from God to them.
This is the very foundation of their faith, hope, and com
fort : from hence they take their first encouragement to
trust in God and in Christ, because they think that God,
by some scripture so brought, has now already revealed to
them that he loves them, and has already promised them
eternal life. But this is very absurd ; for every one of
common knowledge of religious principles, knows that it
is God's manner to reveal his love to men, and their inte
rest in the promises, after they have believed, and not
before. They must first believe, before they have any
personal and possessive * interest in the promises to be re
vealed. The Spirit of God is a Spirit of truth, and not of
lies : he does not bring scriptures to men's minds in order
to reveal to them that they nave a personal and possessive
interest in God's promises, when they have none, having
not yet believed. For this would be the case, if God
bringing texts of scripture to men's minds, in order to show
them that their sins were forgiven, or that it was God's
pleasure to give them the kingdom, or any thing of that
nature, went before and was the foundation of their first
faith. No promise of the covenant of grace belongs pos
sessively to any man, until he has first believed in Christ ;
for it is by faith alone that we become thus interested in
Christ, and the promises of the new covenant made in
him. Therefore, whatever spirit applies the promises of
that covenant to a person who has not first believed, as
being already his, (in the sense already mentioned,) must
be a lying spirit ; and that faith which is first built on such
an application of promises, is built upon a lie. God's
manner is not to bring comfortable texts of scripture to
give men assurance of 'his peculiar love, and that they shall
be happy, before they have had a faith of dependence.^
And if the scripture which comes to a person's mind, be
not so properly a promise, as an invitation ; yet if he
makes the sudden or unusual manner of its coming to his
mind, the ground on which he believes that he is invited,
it is not true faith ; because it is built on that which is not
the true ground of faith. True faith is built on no preca
rious foundation. But a determination that the words of
such a particular text were, by the immediate power of
God, suggested to the mind, at such a time, as though
then spoken and directed by God to him, because they
came after such a manner, is wholly an uncertain and
trace and our acceptance goes before pardon, and therefore, much more,
efore the knowledge of it"
Mr. Shepard, in his Parable of the Ten Virgins, Part II. p. 15. says, that
" Grace and the love of Christ (the fairest colours under the sun) may be
pretended ; but if you shall receive, under this appearance, that God wit-
nesseth his love, first by an absolute promise, take heed there ; for under
this appearance you may as well bring in immediate revelations, and from
thence come to forsake the Scriptures.
And in Part I. p. 86. he says, " Is Christ yours ? Yes, I see it How?
ise ? No : this is delusion." And p. 136. speaking of

By any word or promise . 
them that have no solid ground of peace, he reckons, " Those triat iconusnt
themselves with the revelation of the Lord's love, without the sight of any
work, or not looking to it." And says presently after, " The testimony of
the Spirit does not make a man more a Christian, but only evidenceth it;
as it is the nature of a witness, not to make a thing to be true, but to clear
and evidence it." And p. 140. speaking of them that say they have the
witness of the Spirit, that makes a difference between them and hypocrites,
he says. " The witness of the Spirit makes not the first difference : for first
a man is a believer, and in Christ, and justified, called, and sanctified, be
fore the Spirit does witness it; else the Spirit should witness to an untruth
and lie."

Sect. I.

THEY ARISE FROM DIVINE ILLUMINATION.

271

precarious determination; and therefore is a false and
sandy foundation for faith; and accordingly the faith which
is built upon it is also false. The only certain foundation
which any person has to believe that he is invited to par
take of the blessings of the gospel, is, that the word of
God declares that persons so qualified as he is, are in
vited, and God who declares it, is true and cannot lie.
If a sinner be once convinced of the veracity of God,
and that the Scriptures are his word, he will need no more
to convince and satisfy him that he is invited ; for the
Scriptures are full of invitations to sinners, to the chief of
sinners, to come and partake ofthe benefits ofthe gospel.
He will not want of God any thing new ; what he hath
spoken already will be enough with him.
As the first comfort of many persons, and their affec
tions at the time of their supposed conversion, are built on
such grounds as these mentioned ; so are their joys, hopes,
and other affections afterwards. They have often particu
lar words of scriptures, sweet declarations and promises,
suggested to them, which, by reason of the manner of their
coming, they think are immediately sent from God to
them, at that time. This they look upon as their warrant,
the main ground of appropriating them to themselves, of
their comfort, and the confidence they receive from them.
Thus they imagine a kind of conversation is carried on
between God and them ; and that God, from time to time,
as it were, immediately speaks to them, and satisfies their
doubts, testifies his love to them, promises them supports
and supplies, and reveals to them clearly their interest in
eternal blessings. And thus they are often elevated, and
have a sudden and tumultuous kind of joys, mingled with
strong confidence, and a high opinion of themselves ;
when indeed the main ground of these joys, and this con
fidence, is not any thing contained in or taught by these
scriptures, but the manner of their coming to them ; which
is a certain evidence of their delusion. There is no par
ticular promise in the word of God made to the saint, or
spoken to him, otherwise than all the promises of the
covenant of grace are his, and are spoken to him.* Some
indeed of these promises may be more peculiarly adapted
to his case than others ; and God by his Spirit may enable
him better to understand some than others, and to have a
greater sense of the preciousness, glory, and suitableness
of the blessings contained in them.
But here, some may be ready to say, What, is there no
such thing as any particular spiritual application of the
promises of Scripture by the Spirit of God ? I answer,
there is doubtless such a thing as a spiritual and saving
application of the invitations and promises of Scripture
to the souls of men. But it is also certain, that the nature
of it is wholly misunderstood by many persons, to the
great insnaring of their own souls. Hereby Satan acquires
a vast advantage against them, against the interest of
religion, and the church of God. The spiritual applica
tion of a scripture promise does not consist in its being
immediately suggested to the thoughts by some extrinsic
agent, and being borne into the mind with this strong ap
prehension, that it isparticularly spoken and directed to
them at that time. There is nothing of the hand of God
evidenced in this effect, as events have proved in many
notorious instances. It is a mean notion of a spiritual
application of Scripture ; there is nothing in the nature of
it at all beyond the power ofthe devil ; for there is nothing
in the nature of the effect implying any vital communica
tion of God. A truly spiritual application of the word of
God is of a vastly higher nature ; as much above the devil's
power, as it is for him to apply the word of God to a
dead corpse so as to raise it to life ; or to a stone, to turn
it into an angel. A spiritual application of the word of
God consists in applying it to the heart ; in spiritual, en-
• Mr. Shepard, in his Sound Believer, p. 159. of the late impression at
Boston, says, " Embrace in thy bosom, not only some few promises, but all."
And then he asks the question, " When may a Christian take a promise
without presumption, as spoken to him ?" He answers, " The rule is very
sweet, but certain ; when he takes all the Scripture, and embraces it as
spoken unto him, he may then take any particular promise boldly. My
meaning is, when a Christian takes hold and wrestles with God for the
accomplishment of all the promises of the New Testament, when he sets
all the commands before him, as a compass and guide to walk after, when
he applies all the threatenings to drive him nearer unto Christ the end of
them. This no hypocrite can do ; this the saints shall do ; and by this they
may know when the Lord speaks in particular unto them."
t " Some Christians have rested with a work without Christ, which is

lightening, sanctifying influences. A spiritual application
of an invitation, or offer of the gospel, consists in giving
the soul a spiritual sense, or relish, of the holy and divine
blessings offered, and also the sweet and wonderful grace
of the offerer, in making so gracious an overture, and of
his holy excellency and faithfulness to fulfil what he of
fers, and his glorious sufficiency for it ; so leading and
drawing forth the heart to embrace the offer ; and thus
giving the man evidence of his title to, and personal interest
in, the thing offered. And so a spiritual application of the
promises of Scripture, for the comfort of the saints, con
sists in enlightening their minds to see the holy excellency
and sweetness ofthe blessings promised, also the holy excel
lency ofthe promiser, his faithfulness and sufficiency ; thus
drawing forth their hearts to embrace the promiser, and
thing promised ; and by this means, giving the sensible
actings of grace, enabling them to see their grace, and so
their possessive title to the promise. An application not
consisting in this divine sense and enlightening of the
mind, but consisting only in the words being borne into
the thoughts, as if immediately then spoken, so making
persons believe, on no other foundation, that the promise
is theirs ; is a blind application, and belongs to the spirit
of darkness, and not of light.
When persons have their affections raised after this
manner, those affections are really not raised by the word
of God ; the Scripture is not the foundation of them ; it
is not any thing contained in those scriptures which come
to their minds, that raise their affections ; but truly that
effect, viz. the strange manner of the word being suggested
to their minds, and a proposition from thence taken up by
them, which indeed is not contained in that scripture, nor
in any other ; as that his sins are forgiven him, or that it is
the Father's good pleasure to give him in particular the
kingdom, or the like. There are propositions to be found
in the Bible, declaring that persons of such and such
qualifications are forgiven and beloved of God : but there
are none declaring that such and such particular persons,
independent on any previous knowledge of qualifications,
are forgiven and beloved of God. Therefore, when any
person is comforted, and affected by any such proposition,
it is by another word, a word newly coined, and not any
word of God contained in the Bible.f And thus many
persons are vainly affected and deluded.
Again, it plainly appears from what has been demon
strated, that no revelation of secret facts by immediated sug
gestion, is any thing spiritual and divine, in that sense
wherein gracious effects and operations are so. By secret
fads, I mean things that have been done, or are come to
pass, or shall hereafter come to pass, which do not appear
to the senses, nor are known by any argumentation, nor
any other way, but only by immediate suggestion of ideas
to the mind. Thus for instance, if it should be revealed
to me, that the next year this land would be invaded by
a fleet from France, or that such and such persons would
then be converted, or that I myself should then be con
verted — not by enabling me to argue these events from
any thing which now appears in providence ; but — imme
diately suggesting, in an extraordinary manner, that these
things would come to pass : or if it should be revealed to
me, that this day there is a battle fought between the armies
of such and such powers in Europe, or that such a prince
in Europe was this day converted, or is now in a converted
state, or that one of my neighbours is converted, or that
I myself am converted ; not by having any other evidence
of these facts, but an immediate extraordinary suggestion
or excitation of these ideas, and a strong impression of
them upon my mind : this is a revelation of secret facts
by immediate suggestion, as much as if the facts were
future ; for the facts being past, present, or future, alters
abominable : but after a man is in Christ, not to judge by the work, is first
not to judge from the word. For though there is a word, which may give
a man a dependence on Christ, without feeling any work, nay when" he
feels none, as absolute promises: yet no word giving assurance, but that
which is made to some work, He that believeth, or is poor in spirit, — c.
until that work is seen, has no assurance from that promise." Shepard's
Parable ofthe Ten Virgins, Part I. p. 86.
" If God should tell a saint that he has grace, he might know it by be
lieving the word of God : but it is not in this way that godly men do know
that they have grace : it is not revealed in the word, and the Spirit of God
doth not testify it to particular persons." Stoddard's Nature of saving
Conversion, p. 84, 85.

272

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

not the case, as long as they are secret, hidden from my
senses and reason, and not spoken of in Scripture, nor
known by me any other way than by immediate suggestion.
If I have it revealed to me, that such a revolution is come
to pass this day in the Ottoman empire, it is the very
same sort of revelation, as if it were revealed to me that
such a revolution would come to pass there this day come
twelvemonth ; because, though one is present and the
other future, yet both are equally hidden from me, any
other way than by immediate revelation. When Samuel
told Saul that the asses which he went to seek were found,
and that his father had left caring for the asses, and sor
rowed for him ; this was by the same kind of revelation,
as that by which he told Saul, that in the plain of Tabor
there should meet him three men going up to God to
Bethel, (1 Sam. x. 2, 3.) though one of these things was
future, and the other was not. So when Elisha told the
king of Israel the words that the king of Syria spake in
his bed-chamber, it was by the same kind of revelation
with that by which he foretold many things to come.
It is evident that this revelation of secret facts by imme
diate suggestion, has nothing of the nature of a spiritual
and divine operation, in the sense fore-mentioned. There
is nothing at all in the nature of the ideas themselves, ex
cited in the mind, that is divinely excellent, above the
ideas of natural men ; though the manner of exciting the
ideas be extraordinary. In those things which are spiritual,
as has been shown, not only the manner of producing the
effect, but the effect wrought is divine, and so vastly above
all that can be in an unsanctified mind. Now simply the
having an idea of facts, setting aside the manner of produ
cing those ideas, is nothing beyond what the minds of
wicked men are susceptible of, without any goodness in
them ; and they all either have or will have, the knowledge
of the greatest and most important facts, that have been,
are, or shall be.
And as to the extraordinary manner of producing the
perception of facts, even by immediate suggestion, there is
nothing in it, but what the minds of natural men are
capable of; as is manifest in Balaam, and others spoken
of in the Scripture. And therefore it appears that there is
nothing appertaining to this immediate suggestion of secret
facts that is spiritual, in the sense in which it has been
proved that gracious operations are so. If there be nothing
in the ideas themselves, which is holy and divine, and so
nothing but what may be in a mind not sanctified, then
God can put them into the mind by immediate power,
without sanctifying it. As there is nothing in the idea of
a rainbow of a holy and divine nature ; so God, if he
pleases, and when he pleases, immediately, and in an ex
traordinary manner, may excite that idea in an unsancti
fied mind. So also, as there is nothing in the idea or
knowledge that such particular persons are forgiven and
accepted of God, and entitled to heaven, but what unsanc
tified minds may have, and will have, concerning many at
the day of judgment ; so God can, if he pleases, extraor
dinarily and immediately suggest this to, and impress it
upon, an unsanctified mind now. There is no principle
wanting in an unsanctified mind in order to make it capa
ble of such an impression ; nor is there any thing in them
necessarily to prevent such a suggestion.
And if these suggestions of secret facts be attended with
texts of Scripture, immediately and extraordinarily brought
to mind, about other facts that seem in some respects
similar ; that does not make the operation to be of a spi
ritual and divine nature. For that suggestion of words of
Scripture is no more divine, than the suggestion of the facts
themselves; as has been just now demonstrated ; and two
effects together, which a»e neither of them spiritual, cannot
make up one complex effect spiritual.
Hence it follows, from what has been already shown,
that those affections which are properly founded on such
* The late venerable Stoddard in his younger time, falling in with the
opinion of some others, received this notion of the witness of the Spirit, by
way of immediate suggestion : but in the latter part of his life, when he bad
more thoroughly weighed things, and had more experience, he entirely re
jected it; as appears by his treatise of the nature of saving conversion, p.
84. " The Spirit of God doth not testify to particular persons, that they are
godly. Some think that the Spirit of God doth testify it to some ; and they
ground it on Rom. viii. 16. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our
spirit, that we are the children of Cod. They think the Spirit reveals it
by giving an inward testimony to it ; and some godly men think they have

immediate suggestions of secret facts, are not gracious af
fections. Not but that it is possible that such suggestions
may be the occasion or accidental cause of gracious affec
tions ; for so may a mistake and delusion ; but it is never
properly the foundation of gracious affections : for gracious
affections, as has beeu shown, are all the effects of an in
fluence and operation which is spiritual, supernatural, and
divine. But there are many affections, and high affections,
which have such revelations for their very foundation.
They look upon these as spiritual discoveries; but they
are a gross delusion ; and this delusion is truly the spring
whence their affections flow.
Here it may be proper to observe, from what has been
said, that what many persons call the witness ofthe Spirit,
that they are the children of God, has nothing in it spiritual
and divine; and consequently, that the affections built
upon it, are vain and delusive. . That which many call the
witness of the Spirit, is no other than an immediate sug
gestion and impression of that fact, otherwise secret, that
they are made the children of God, and so that their sins
are pardoned, and that God has given them a title to
heaven. This kind of knowledge, viz. knowing that
a certain person is converted, and delivered from hell, and
entitled to heaven, is no divine sort of knowledge in itself.
This sort of fact requires no more divine suggestion, in
order to impress it on the mind, than what Balaam had
impressed on his mind. It requires no higher sort of idea
for a man to have the apprehension of his own conversion
impressed upon him, than to have the apprehension of his
neighbour's conversion, in like manner. God, if he pleased,
might impress the knowledge of this fact, that he had for
given his neighbour's sins, and given him a title to heaven,
as well as any other fact, without any communication of
his holiness. The excellency and importance of the fact,
does not at all hinder a natural man's mind being suscepti
ble of an immediate suggestion and impression of it.
Balaam had as important facts as this immediately im
pressed on his mind, without any gracious influence ; par
ticularly, the coming of Christ, his setting up his glorious
kingdom, the blessedness of the spiritual Israel in his pe
culiar favour, and their happiness living and dying. Yea,
Abimelech king of the Philistines had God's special fa
vour to Abraham revealed to him, Gen. xx. 6, 7. He re
vealed to Laban his special favour to Jacob, see Gen. xxxi.
24. and Psal. cv. 15. And if a truly good man should
have an immediate revelation from God, in like manner,
concerning his favour to his neighbour, or himself; would
it be any higher kind of influence ? Would it be any
more than a common influence of God's Spirit, as the gift
of prophecy, and all revelation by immediate suggestion
is ? See 1 Cor. xiii. 2. And though it be true, that a na
tural man cannot have an individual suggestion from the
Spirit of God, that he is converted, because it is not true ;
yet that does not arise from the nature of the influence, as
too high for him. The influence which immediately sug
gests this fact, when it is true, is of no different kind from
that which immediately suggests other true facts : and so
the kind and nature of the influence is not above what is
common to natural men.
But this is a mean ignoble notion of the witness of the
Spirit of God given to his dear children, to suppose that
there is nothing in the nature of that influence, but what
is common to natural men, altogether unsanctified, and the
children of hell ; and that therefore the gift itself has no
thing of the holy nature or vital communication of that
Spirit. This notion greatly debases that most exalted kind
of operation which there is in the true witness of the
Spirit.* That which is called the witness of the Spirit,
Rom. viii. is elsewhere in the New Testament called the
seal of the Spirit, 2 Cor. i. 22. Eph. i. 13. and iv. 13. al
luding to the seal of princes, annexed to the instrument,
by which they advanced any of their subjects to some
had experience of it : but they may easily mistake ; when the Spirit of God
doth eminently stir up a spirit of faith, and sheds abroad the love of God in
the heart, it is easy to mistake it for a testimony. And that is not the mean
ing of Paul's words. The Spirit reveals things to us.by opening our eyes to see
what is revealed in the word ; but the Spirit doth not reveaTnew truths, not
revealed in the word. The Spirit discovers the grace of God in Christ, and
thereby draws forth special actings of faith and love, which are evidential •
but it doth not work in way of testimony. If God do but help us to receive
the revelations in the word, we shall have comfort enough without new
revelations."

Sect. I.

GRACIOUS AFFECTIONS ARE FROM DIVINE INFLUENCE.

273

high honour and dignity, as a token of their special favour.
Which is an evidence that the influence of the Spirit of
the Prince of princes, in sealing his favourites, is far from
being of a common kind ; and that there is no effect of
God's Spirit whatsoever, which is in its nature more di
vine ; nothing more holy, peculiar, inimitable, and distin
guishing of divinity. Nothing is more royal than the royal
seal ; nothing more sacred to a prince, and more peculiarly
denoting what belongs to him ; it being the very design of
it, to be the most peculiar stamp and confirmation of the
royal authority. It is the great note of distinction, where
by that which proceeds from the king, or belongs to him,
may be known from every thing else. And therefore un
doubtedly the seal of the great King of heaven and earth
enstamped on the heart, is something high and holy in its
own nature, some excellent communication from the in
finite fountain of divine beauty and glory ; and not merely
making known a secret fact by revelation or suggestion ;
which is a sort of influence of the Spirit of God of which
the children of the devil have often been the subjects.
The seal of the Spirit is an effect of the Spirit of God on
the heart, of which natural men while such, can form no
manner of notion. Rev. ii. 17. " To him that overcometh
will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and I will give
him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written,
which no man knoweth, saving he that receiveth it."
There is all reason to suppose that v/hat is here spoken of,
is the same evidence, or blessed token of special favour,
which is elsewhere called the seal of the Spirit.
What has misled many in their notion of that influence
of the Spirit of God of which we are speaking, is the word
witness, its being called the witness of the Spirit. Hence
they have taken it to be not any work of the Spirit upon
the heart, giving evidence from whence men may argue that
they are the children of God, but an inward immediate
suggestion, as though God inwardly spoke to the man, and
told him that he was his child, by a kind of secret voice, or
impression. The manner in which the word witness, or
testimony, is often used in the New Testament, viz. hold
ing forth evidence from whence a thing may be argued and
proved to be true. Thus, Heb. ii. 4. God is said to bear
witness, with signs and wonders, and divers miracles, and
gifts of the Holy Ghost. Now these miracles are called
God's witness, not because they are of the nature of as-
sertions,but evidences and proofs. So Acts xiv. 3. " Long
time therefore abode they speaking boldly in the Lord,
which gave testimony unto the word of his grace, and
granted signs and wonders to be done by their hands."
And John v. 36. " But I have greater witness than that
of John ; for the works which the Father hath given me
to finish, the same works that I do, bear witness of me,
that the Father hath sent me " Again, chap. x. 25. " The
works that I do in my Father's name, they bear witness of
me." So the water and the blood are said to bear wit
ness, 1 John v. 8. not that they asserted any thing, but
they were evidences. So God's works of providence, in
rain and fruitful seasons, are witnesses of God's being and
goodness, i. e. they were evidences of these things. And
when the Scripture speaks ofthe seal ofthe Spirit, it is an
expression which properly denotes — not an immediate
voice or suggestion, but — some work or effect of the
Spirit left as a divine mark upon the soul, to be an evi-
* See Chambers's Dictionary, under the word ENGRAVING.
t Mr. Shepard is abundant in militating against the notion of men's
knowing their good estate by an immediate witness of the Spirit, without
judging by any effect or work of the Spirit wrought on the heart, as an
evidence and proof that persons are the children of God. Parab. P. I. d.
134,135,137.176,177,215,216. P. II. 168. 169.
Again, in his Sound Believer, there is a long discourse of sanctification as
the chief evidence of justification, from p. 221, for many pages following ;
I shall transcribe but a very small part of it. " Tell me, how you will
know that you are justified. You will say, by the testimony of the Spirit.
And cannot the same Spirit shine upon your graces, and witness that you
are sanctified, as well? 1 John iv. 13, 24. ICor. ii. 12. Can the Spirit
make the one clear to you, and not the other ? Oh beloved, it is a sad
thing, to hear such questions, and such cold answers also, that sanctifica
tion possibly may be an evidence. May be ! Is it not certain ?"
Mr. Flavel also much opposes this notion of the witness of the Spirit by
immediate revelation. Sacramental Meditations, med. 4. speaking of the
sealing of the Spirit, he says, " In sealing the believer, he doth not make
use of an audible voice, nor the ministry of angels, nor immediate and ex
traordinary revelations; but he makes use of his own graces, implanted in
our hearts, and his own promises, written in the Scripture : and in this
method, he usually brings the doubting, trembling heart of a believer to rest
and comfort" Again, ibid. " Assurance is produced in our souls by the re
flexive acts of faith : the Spirit helps us to reflect upon what hath been done
by him formerly upon our hearts; hereby we know that we know him,
VOL. I. T

dence, by which God's children might be known. The
seals of princes were their distinguishing marks ; and thuF
the seal of God is his mark, Rev. vii. 3. " Hurt not the
earth, neither the sea, nor the trees, till we have sealed the
servants of our God in their foreheads ;" Ezek. ix. 4. " Set
a mark upon the foreheads of the men that sigh, and that
cry for all the abominations that are done in the midst
thereof." When God sets his seal on a man's heart by his
Spirit, there is some holy stamp, some image impressed,
and left upon the heart by the Spirit, as by the seal upon
the wax. And this holy stamp, or impressed image, ex
hibiting clear evidence to the conscience, that the subject
of it is the child of God, is the very thing which in Scrip
ture is called the seal of the Spirit, and the witness or
evidence of the Spirit. And this mark enstamped by the
Spirit on God's children, is his own image. -That is the
evidence by which they are known to be God's children ;
they have the image of their Father stamped upon their
hearts by the Spirit of adoption. Seals anciently had en-
engraven on them two things, viz. the image and the name
of the person whose seal it was. Therefore when Christ
says to his spouse, Cant. viii. 6. " Set me as a seal upon
thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm :" it is as much as
to say, let my name and image remain impressed there.
The seals of princes, moreover, were wont to bear their
image ; so that what they set their seal and royal mark
upon, had their image left on it. It was their manner also
to have their image engraven on their jewels and precious
stones ; the image of Augustus engraven on a precious
stone, was used as the seal of the Roman emperors, in the
times of Christ and the apostles.* The saints are the
jewels of Jesus Christ, the great potentate, who possesses
the empire of the universe : and these jewels have his
image enstamped upon them by his royal signet, which is
the Holy Spirit. And this is undoubtedly what the Scrip
ture means by the seal of the Spirit ; especially when it is
fair and plain to the eye of conscience ; which is what the
Scripture calls our spirit. This is truly an effect that is
spiritual, supernatural, and divine. This is in itself of a
holy nature, being a communication ofthe divine nature and
beauty. That kind of influence ofthe Spirit which gives and
leaves this stamp upon theheart, is such as no natural man can
have. If there were any such thing as a witness of the Spirit
by immediate suggestion or revelation, this would be
vastly more noble and excellent, and as much above it as the
heaven is above the earth. This the devil cannot imitate.f
The seal of the Spirit is called the earnest of the Spirit,
in the Scripture. 2 Cor. i. 22. " Who hath also sealed
us, and given the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts."
And Eph. i. 13, 14. " In whom, after that ye believed,
ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise, which is
the earnest of our inheritance, until the redemption of the
purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory." Now
the earnest is part of the money agreed for given in hand,
as a token of the whole to be paid in due time ; a part of
the promised inheritance granted now, in token of full
possession of the whole hereafter. But surely that kind
of communication of the Spirit of God, which is of the
nature of eternal glory, is the highest and most excellent
kind of communication, It is something in its own nature
spiritual, holy, and divine ; and therefore high above any
thing of the nature of inspiration, or revelation of hidden
1 John ii. 3. To know that we know, is a reflex act. Now it is impossible
there should be a reflex, before there hath been a direct act. No man can
have the evidence of his faith, before the habit is infused, and the vital act
performed. The object matter, to which the Spirit seals, is his own sanc
tifying operation." Afterwards, ibid, he says, " Immediate ways of the
Spirit's sealing are ceased. No man may now expect, by any new revela
tion, or sign from heaven, by any voice, or extraordinary inspiration, to
have his salvation sealed ; but must expect that mercy in God's oidinary
way and method, searching the Scriptures, examining our own hearts, and
waiting on the Lord in prayer. The learned Gerson gives an instance of
one that had been long upon the borders of despair, and at last sweetly as
sured and settled : he answered, Non ex nova aliqua revelatione ; not by
any new revelation, but by subjecting my understanding to, and compar
ing my heart with, the written word. And Mr. Roberts, in his treatise of the
covenants, speaks of another, that so vehemently panted after the sealings
and assurance of the love of God to his soul, that for a long time he
earnestly desired some voice from heaven ; and sometimes, walking in the
solitary fields, earnestly desired some miraculous voice from the trees or
stones there. This was denied him ; but in time, a better was afforded, in
a scriptural way." Again, ibid.. " This method of sealing, is beyond ail
other methods in the world. For in miraculous voices and inspirations, it
is impossible there may subesse falsum, be found some cheat, orunpostures
of the devil : but the Spirit's witness in the heart, suitable to the' revelation
in the Scripture, cannot deceive us."

274

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

facts by suggestion of the Spirit of God, which many na
tural men have had. What is the earnest and beginning
of glory, but grace itself, especially in the more lively and
clear exercises of it > It is not prophecy, nor tongues, nor
knowledge, but that more excellent thing, charity that
neoer fuileth, which is a beginning ofthe light, sweetness,
and blessedness of heaven, that world of love or charity.
Grace is the seed of glory ; the earnest of the future inhe
ritance. What is the beginning or earnest of eternal life
in the soul, but spiritual life ? and what is that but grace?
The inheritance that Christ has purchased for the elect, is
the Spirit of God ; not in any extraordinary gifts, but in
his vital indwelling in the heart, exerting and communi
cating himself there, in his own proper, holy, or divine na
ture. The Father provides the Saviour, and the purchase
is made of him ; the Son is the purchaser and the price ;
and the Holy Spirit is the great blessing or inheritance
purchased, as is intimated Gal. iii. 13, 14. and hence the
Spirit is often spoken of as the sum of the blessings pro
mised in the gospel.* This inheritance was the grand le
gacy which Christ left his disciples and church, in his last
will and testament, John chap. xiv. xv. xvi. This is the
sum of the blessings of eternal life, which shall be given
in heaven.f It is through the vital communications and
indwelling of the Spirit, that the saints have all their light,
life, holiness, beauty, and joy in heaven : and it is through
the vital communications and indwelling of the same
Spirit, that the saints have all light, life, holiness, beauty,
and comfort on earth ; but only communicated in less
measure. And this vital indwelling of the Spirit in the
Saints, in this less measure, is the earnest of the Spirit, the
earnest of the future inheritance, and the first-fruits of the
Spirit, as the apostle calls it, Rom. viii. 22. where, by the
nrst-fruits of the Spirit, the apostle undoubtedly means
the same vital gracious principle, that he speaks of in all
the preceding part of the chapter, which he calls Spirit,
and sets in opposition to flesh or corruption. Therefore
this earnest of the Spirit, and first-fruits, which has been
shown to be the same with the seal of the Spirit, is his
vital, gracious, sanctifying influence, and not any imme
diate suggestion or revelation of facts.|
And indeed the apostle, when (Rom. viii. 16.) he
speaks of the Spirit bearing witness with our spirit, that
we are the children of God, sufficiently explains himself.
" For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are
the sons of God : for ye have not received the spirit of
bondage again to fear : but ye have received the Spirit of
adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father : the Spirit itself
beareth witness with our spirits, that we are the children of
God." Here, what the apostle says, if we take it together,
plainly shows, that what he has respect to, when he speaks
of the Spirit's giving us witness or evidence that we are
God's children, is his dwelling in us, and leading us, as a
spirit of adoption, or of a child, disposing us to behave
towards God as to a father. And what is that, but the
spirit of love ? There are two kinds of spirits of which the
apostle speaks, the spirit of bondage, that is fear ; and the
spirit of adoption, and that is love. The apostle says, we
have not received the spirit of bondage, or of slaves,
which is a spirit of fear ; but we have received the more
ingenuous, noble spirit of children, a spirit of love, which
naturally disposes us to go to God, as children to a father.
And this is the witness which the Spirit of God gives us
that we are children. This is the plain sense of the
apostle. The spirit of bondage works by fear, the slave
fears the rod ; but love cries, Abba, Father ; it disposes
us to go to God, and behave ourselves as children. So
that the witness of the Spirit of which the apostle speaks,
is far from being any whisper, or immediate suggestion ;
but is that gracious, holy effect of the Spirit of God in the
hearts of the saints, the disposition and temper of children,
appearing in sweet child-like love to God, which casts out
fear. It is plain the apostle speaks of the Spirit, over and
over again, as dwelling in the hearts of the saints, as a
gracious principle, in opposition to the flesh or corruption ;
* Luke xxiv. 49. Acts i. 4. and chap. ii. 38, 39. Gal. iii. 14. Eph. i. 13.
t Compare John vii. 37, 38, 39. and John iv. 14. with Rev. xxi. 6. and
xxii. 1, 17.
I " After a man is in Christ, not to judge by the work, is not to judge by
the Spirit For the apostle makes the earnest of the Spirit to be the seal.
Now, earnest is part of the money bargained for ; the beginning of heaven,

as in the words that immediately introduce this passage,
ver. 13. " For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die : but
if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the flesh,
ye shall live."
Indeed it is past doubt with me, that the apostle has a
more special respect to the spirit of grace, or of love, or the
spirit of a child, in its more lively actings ; for it is perfect
love or strong love only, which so witnesses or evidences
that we are children, as to cast out fear, and wholly de
liver from the spirit of bondage. The strong and lively
exercises of evangelical, humble love to God, give clear
evidence of the soul's relation to God, as his child ; which
very greatly and directly satisfies the soul. And though
it be far from true, that the soul in this case judges only
by an immediate witness, without any sign or evidence ;
yet the saint stands in no need of multiplied signs, or any
long reasoning upon them. And thougn the sight of his
relative union with God, and being in his favour, is not
without a medium, viz. his love ; yet his sight ofthe union
of his heart to God is immediate. Love, the bond of
union, is seen intuitively ; the saint sees and feels plainly
the union between his soul and God ; it is so strong and
lively, that he cannot doubt of it. And hence he is assured
that he is a child. How can he doubt whether he stands
in a child-like relation to God, when he plainly sees a
child-like union between God and his soul, and hence
cries, Abba, Father.
And whereas the apostle says, the Spirit bears witness
with cur spirits; by our spirit here, is meant our ton-
science, which is called the spirit of man ; Prov. xx. 27.
" The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord, searching
all the inward parts ofthe belly." We elsewhere read of
the witness of this spirit, or of conscience, 2 Cor. i. 12.
" For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience."
And 1 John iii. 19 — 21. "And hereby do we know that
we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him.
For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our
heart, and knoweth all things. Beloved, if our heart con
demn us not, then have we confidence towards God."
When the apostle Paul speaks of the Spirit of God bear
ing witness with our spirit, he does not mean two separate,
collateral, independent witnesses ; but that by one, we
receive the witness of the other. The Spirit of God gives
the evidence, by infusing and shedding abroad the love of
God, the spirit of a child, in the heart ; and our spirit, or
our conscience, receives and declares this evidence for out
rejoicing. Many mischiefs have arisen from that false and delusive
notion of the witness of the Spirit, that it is a kind of in
ward voice, suggestion, or declaration from God to a man,
that he is beloved, pardoned, elected, or the like, some
times with and sometimes without a text of Scripture;
for many have been the false and vain (though very high)
affections that have arisen from hence. It is to be feared
that multitudes of souls have been eternally undone by it ;
I have therefore insisted the longer on this head.— But I
proceed now to a second characteristic of gracious af
fections.

SECT. II.
The first objective ground of gracious affections, is the
transcendently excellent and amiable nature of divine
things, as they are in themselves ; and not any conceived
relation they bear to self, or self-interest.
I say, that the supremely excellent nature of divine
things is the first, or primary and original, objective
foundation of the spiritual affections of true saints ; for I
do not suppose that all relation which divine things bear
to themselves, and their own particular interest, are wholly
excluded from all influence in their gracious affections.
For this may have, and indeed has, a secondary and con
sequential influence in those affections that are truly holy
and spiritual ; as I shall show by and by.
of the light and life of it. He that sees not that the Lord is his by that, sees
no God his at all. Oh therefore, do not look for a spirit, without a word to
reveal, nor a word to reveal, without seeing and feeling of some work first
I thank the Lord, I do butmty those that think otherwise. If a sheep of
Christ, oh, wander not." Shepard's Par. P. I. p. 86.

Sect. II.

THEIR OBJECT, IS THE EXCELLENCY OF DIVINE THINGS.

275

It was before observed, that the affection of love is as it
were the fountain of all affection ; and particularly, that
Christian love is the fountain of all gracious affections.
Now the divine excellency of God, and of Jesus Christ, the
word of God, his works, ways, &rc. is the primary reason,
why a true saint loves these things ; and not any sup
posed interest that he has in them, or any conceived bene
fit that he has received or shall receive from them.
Some say that all love arises from self-love ; and that it
is impossible in the nature of things, for any man to love
God, or any other being, but that love to himself must be
the foundation of it. But I humbly suppose, it is for
want of consideration they say so. They argue, that
whoever loves God, and so desires his glory, or the en
joyment of him, desires these things as his own happiness ;
the glory of God, and the beholding and the enjoying of
his perfections, are considered as things agreeable to him,
tending to make him happy ; he places his happiness in
them, and desires them as objects which, if obtained,
would fill him with delight and joy, and so make him
happy. And so, they say, it is from self-love, or a desire
of his own happiness, that he desires God should be
glorified, and desires to behold and enjoy his glorious
perfections. But then they ought to consider a little
further, and inquire how the man came to place his happi
ness in God's being glorified, and in contemplating and
enjoying God's perfections. There is no doubt, but that
after God's glory, and beholding his perfections, are be
come agreeable to him, he will desire them, as he desires
his own happiness. But how came these things to be so
agreeable to him, that he esteems it his highest happiness
to glorify God, &c. ? is not this the fruit of love ? Must
not a man first love God, or have his heart united to him,
before he will esteem God's good his own, and before he
will desire the glorifying and enjoying of God, as his
happiness. It is not strong arguing, because after a man
has his heart united to God in love, and, as a fruit of this,
he desires his glory and enjoyment as his own happiness,
that therefore a desire of this happiness must needs be the
cause and foundation of his love ; unless it be strong argu
ing, that because a father begat a son, therefore his son
certainly begat him. If after a man loves God, it will be
a consequence and fruit of this, that even love to his own
happiness will cause him to desire the glorifying and en
joying of God ; it will not thence follow, that this very
exercise of self-love went before his love to God, and that
his love to God was a consequence and fruit of that. Some
thing else, entirely distinct from self-love, might be the
cause of this, viz. a change made in the views of his mind,
and relish of his heart ; whereby he apprehends a beauty,
glory, and supreme good, in God's nature, as it is in itself.
This may be the thing that first draws his heart to him,
and causes his heart to be united to him, prior to all con
siderations of his own interest or happiness, although after
this, and as a fruit of it, he necessarily seeks his interest
and happiness in God.
There is a kind of love or affection towards persons or
things, which does properly arise from self-love. A pre
conceived relation to himself, or some respect already
manifested by another to him, or some benefit alreadv re
ceived or depended on, is truly the first foundation of his
love ; what precedes any relish of, or delight in, the nature
and qualities inherent in the being beloved, as beautiful
and amiable. When the first thine that draws a man's
benevolence to another, is the beholding of those qualifi
cations and properties in him, which appear to him lovely
in themselves, love arises in a very different manner, than
when it first arises from some gift bestowed by another,
as a judge loves and favours a man that has bribed him ;
or from the relation he supposes another has to him, as a
man who loves his child. When love to another arises
thus, it arises truly and properly from self-love.
That kind of affection to God or Jesus Christ, which
thus properly arises from self-love, cannot be a truly gra
cious and spiritual love ; as appears from what has been
said already. For self-love is a principle entirely natural,
and as much in the hearts of devils as angels ; and there
fore surely nothing that is the mere result of it, can be
* " There is a natural love to Christ, as to one that doth thee good, and
for thine own ends ; and spiritual, for himself, whereby the Lord only is
T 2

supernatural and divine, in the manner before described.*
Christ plainly speaks of this kind of love, as what is no
thing beyond the love of wicked men, Luke vi. 32. "If
ye iove them that love you, what thank have ye ? for
sinners also love those that love them." And the devil
himself knew that a mercenary respect to God, only for
benefits received or depended on, (which is all one,) is
worthless in the sight of God ; Job i. 9, 10. "Doth Job
serve God for nought ? hast not thou made an hedge
about him, and about his house," &c. God would never
have implicitly allowed the objection to have been good,
in case the accusation had been true, by allowing that
matter to be tried, and Job to be sq dealt with, that it
might appear in the event, whether Job's respect to God
was thus mercenary or no. Whereas the proof of the
goodness of his respect was put upon that issue.
It is unreasonable to think otherwise, than that the first
foundation of a true love to God, is that whereby he is in
himself lovely, or worthy to be loved, or the supreme
loveliness of his nature. This is certainly what makes
him chiefly amiable. What chiefly makes a man or any
creature lovely, is his excellency ; and so what chiefly
renders God lovely, and must undoubtedly be the chief
ground of true love, is his excellency. God's nature, or
the divinity, is infinitely excellent ; yea it is infinite beauty,
brightness, and glory itself. But how can that be true love
of this excellent and lovely nature, which is not built on
the foundation of its true loveliness ? how can that be true
love of beauty and brightness, which is not for beauty and
brightness' sake ? how can that be a true prizing of that
which is in itself infinitely worthy and precious, which is
not for the sake of its worthiness and preciousness ? This
infinite excellency of the divine nature, as it is in itself, is
the true ground of all that is good in God in any respect ;
but how can a man truly love God, without loving him
for that excellency, which is the foundation of all that is
good or desirable in him ? They whose affection to God
is founded first on his profitableness to them, begin at the
wrong end ; they regard God only for the utmost limit of
the stream of divine good, where it touches them, and
reaches their interest. They have no respect to that infinite
glory of God's nature, which is the original good, and
the true fountain of all good, and of loveliness of every
kind. A natural principle of self-love may be the foundation
of gi-eat affections towards God and Christ, without seeing
any thing of the beauty and glory of the divine nature.
There is a certain gratitude that is a mere natural thing.
Gratitude is one of the natural affections, as well as anger ;
and there is a gratitude that arises from self-love, very
much in the same manner that anger does. Anger in men
is an affection excited against, or in opposition to, another,
for something in him that crosses seif-love : gratitude is
an affection one has towards another, for loving or gratify
ing him, or for something in him that suits self-love. And
there may be a kind of gratitude, without any true or
proper love ; as there may be anger without hatred ; as in
parents towards their children, with whom they may be
angry, and yet at the same time have a strong habitual
love to them. Of this gratitude Christ declares, (Luke vi.)
Sinners love those that love them ; even the publicans, who
were some of the most carnal and profligate sort of men,
(Matt. v. 46.) This is the principle wrought upon by
bribery, in unjust judges ; and which even the brute
beasts exercise ; a dog will love his master that is kind to
him. And we see in innumerable instances, that mere
nature is sufficient to excite gratitude in men, or to affect
their hearts with thankfulness to others for kindnesses re
ceived ; and sometimes towards them against whom at the
same time they have an habitual enmity. Thus Saul was
once and again greatly affected, and even dissolved with
gratitude towards David, for sparing his life ; and yet re
mained an habitual enemy to him. And as men, from
mere nature, may be thus affected towards men ; so they
may towards God. Nothing hinders, but that the same
self-love may work after the same manner towards God,
as towards men. And we have manifest instances of it in
Scripture ; as indeed the children of Israel, who sang
exalted." Shepard's Par. cf the Ten Virgins, P. I. p. 25.

276

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

God's praises at the Red sea, but soon forgat his works.
Naaman the Syrian was greatly affected 'with the miracu
lous cure of his leprosy. His heart was engaged thence
forward to worship the God who had healed him, excepting
when it would expose him to be ruined in his temporal
interest. So was Nebuchadnezzar greatly affected with
God's goodness to him, in restoring him to his reason and
kingdom, after his dwelling with the beasts.
Gratitude being thus a natural principle, ingratitude is
so much the more vile and heinous ; because it shows a
dreadful prevalence of wickedness, when it even overbears
and suppresses the better principles of human nature. It
is mentioned as an evidence of the high degree of wick
edness in many of the heathen, that they were without
natural affection, Rom. ii. 31. But that the want of
gratitude, or natural affection, are evidences of a high de
gree of vice, is no argument that all gratitude and natural
affection has the nature of virtue, or saving grace.
Self-love, through the exercise of a mere natural grati
tude, may be the foundation of a sort of love to God
many ways. A kind of love may arise from a false notion
of God, that men have some way imbibed ; as though he
were only goodness and mercy, and no revenging justice ;
or as though the exercises of his goodness were necessary,
and not free and sovereign ; or as though his goodness
were dependent on what is in them, and as it were con
strained by them. Men on such grounds as these, may
love a God of their own forming in their imaginations,
when they are far from loving such a God as reigns in
heaven. Again, self-love may be the foundation of an affection
in men towards God, through a great insensibility of their
state with regard to God, and for want of conviction of
conscience to make them sensible how dreadfully they
have provoked him to anger. They have no sense of the
heinousness of sin, as against God, and of the infinite
and terrible opposition of the holy nature of God against
it. Having formed in their minds such a God as suits
them, and thinking him to be such an one as themselves,
who favours and agrees with them, they may like him
very well, and feel a sort of love to him, when they are
far from loving the true God. And men's affections may
be much moved towards God from self-love, by some re
markable outward benefits received from him ; as it was
with Naaman, Nebuchadnezzar, and the children of Israel
at the Red sea.
Again, a very high affection towards God may, and
often does, arise in men, from an opinion of the favour and
love of God to them, as the first foundation of their love to
him. After awakenings and distress, through fears of hell,
they may suddenly get a notion, through some impression
on their imagination, or immediate suggestion with or with
out texts of Scripture, or by some other means that God
loves tliem, has forgiven their sins, and made them his
children ; and this is the first thing that causes their affec
tions to flow towards God and Jesus Christ : and then,
upon this foundation, many things in God may appear
lovely to them, and Christ may seem excellent. And if
such persons are asked, whether God appears lovely and
amiable in himself? they would perhaps readily answer,
Yes ; when indeed, if the matter be strictly examined, this
good opinion of God was purchased, and paid for, in the
distinguishing and infinite benefits they imagined they re
ceived from God. They allow God to be lovely in him
self no otherwise, than that he has forgiven and accepted
them, loves them above most in the world, and has engaged
to improve all his infinite power and wisdom in preferring,
dignifying, and exalting them, and will do for them just as
they would have him. When once they are firm in this
apprehension, it is easy to own God and Christ to be lovely
and glorious, and to admire and extol them. It is easy for
them to own Christ to be a lovely person, and the best in
the world, when they are first firm in the notion, that he,
though Lord of the universe, is captivated with love to
them, has his heart swallowed up in them, prizes them far
beyond most of their neighbours, has loved them from
eternity, and died for them, and will make them reign in
eternal glory with him in heaven. When this is the case
* " There is a seeing of Christ after a man believes, which is Christ in his
love, &c. But I speak of that first sight of him that precedes the second act

with carnal men, their very lusts will make him seem love
ly ; pride itself will prejudice them in favour of that which
they call Christ. Selfish, proud man naturally calls that
lovely which greatly contributes tohis interest, and gratifies
his ambition.
And as this sort of persons begin, so they go on. Their
affections are raised, from time to time, primarily on this
foundation of self-love, and a conceit of God's love to them.
Many have a false notion of communion with God, as
though it were carried on by impulses, and whispers, and
external representations, immediately made to their imagi
nation. These things they take to be manifestations of
God's great love to them, and evidences of their high ex
altation above others ; and so their affections are often
renewedly set a-going.
Whereas the exercises of true and holy love in the
saints arise in another way. They do not first see that God
loves them, and then see that he is lovely ; but they first
see that God is lovely, and that Christ is excellent and
glorious ; their hearts are first captivated with this view,
and the exercises of their love are wont, from time to time,
to begin here, and to arise primarilv from these views ; and
then, consequentially, they see God's love, and great favour
to them.* The saints' affections begin with God; and
self-love has a hand in these affections consequentially and
secondarily only. On the contrary, false affections begin
with self, and an acknowledgment of an excellency in God,
and an affectedness with it, is only consequential and de
pendent. In the love of the true saint, God is the lowest
foundation ; the love ofthe excellency of his nature is the
foundation of all the affections which come afterwards,
wherein self-love is concerned as an handmaid. On the
contrary, the hypocrite lays himself at the bottom of all, as
the first foundation, and lays on God as the superstructure ;
and even his acknowledgment of God's glory itself, de
pends on his regard to his private interest.
Self-love may not only influence men, so as to cause
them to be affected with God's kindness to them sepa
rately ; but also with God's kindness to them, as parts of
a community. A natural principle of self-love, without
any other, may be sufficient to make a man concerned for
the interest of the nation to which he belongs : as for
instance, in the present war, self-love may make natural
men rejoice at the successes of our nation, and sorry for
their disadvantages, they being concerned as members of
the body. The same natural principles may extend even
to the world of mankind, and might be affected with the
benefits the inhabitants of the earth have, beyond those of
the inhabitants of other planets ; if we knew that such
there were, and knew how it was with them. So this
principle may cause men to be affected with the benefits
mankind have received beyond the fallen angels ; with the
wonderful goodness of God in giving his Son to die for
fallen man, with the marvellous love of Christ in suffering
such great things for us, and with the great glory they hear
God has provided in heaven for us. Looking on them
selves as persons concerned, interested, and so highly fa
voured ; the same principle of natural gratitude may in
fluence men here, as in the case of personal benefits.
But these things by no means imply, that all gratitude
to God is a mere natural thing, and that there is no such
thing as a spiritual gratitude, which is a holy and divine
affection. They imply no more, than that there is a grati
tude which is merely natural, and that when persons have
affections towards God only, or primarily, for benefits re
ceived, their affection is only the exercise of natural grati
tude. There is doubtless such a thing as a gracious grati
tude, which greatly differs from all that gratitude which
natural men experience. It differs in the following re
spects. 1. True gratitude, or thankfulness to God for his kind
ness to us, arises from a foundation, laid before, of love to
God for what he is in himself; whereas a natural gratitude
has no such antecedent foundation. The gracious stirrings
of grateful affection to God, for kindness received, always
are from a stock of love already in the heart, established in
the first place on other grounds, viz. God's own excellency;
and hence the affections are disposed to flow out, on oc-
of faith : and it is an intuitive, or real sight of him. as he is in his ulorv "
Shepard's Par. ofthe Ten Virgins, Parti p. 74. g ™'

Sect. U. THEIR OBJECT, IS THE EXCELLENCY OF DIVINE THINGS.

277

casions of God's kindness. The saint having seen the
glory of God, and his heart overcome by it, and captivated
into a supremelove to him on that account, his heart here
by becomes tender, and easily affected with kindness re
ceived. If a man has no love to another, yet gratitude
may be moved by some extraordinary kindness; as in
Saul towards David : but this is not the same in kind, as
a man's gratitude to a dear friend, for whom his heart had
before a high esteem and love. Self-love is not excluded
from a gracious gratitude ; the saints love God for his
kindness to them, Psal. cxvi. 1. " I love the Lor^ because
he hath heard the voice of my supplication." But some
thing else is included ; another love prepares the way, and
lays the foundation for these grateful affections.
2. In a gracious gratitude, men are affected with the
attribute of God's goodness and free grace, not only as
they are concerned in it, or as it affects their interest, but
as a part ofthe glory and beauty of God's nature. That
wonderful and unparalleled grace of God which is mani
fested in the work of redemption, and shines forth in the
face of Jesus Christ, is infinitely glorious in itself, and ap
pears so to the angels ; it is a great part of the moral per
fection and beauty of God's nature. This would be
glorious, whether it were exercised towards us or no ; and
the saint who exercises a gracious thankfulness for it, sees
it to be so, and delights in it as such. Yea, his concern in
it serves the more to engage his mind, and raise his atten
tion and affection. Self-love here assists as an handmaid,
being subservient to higher principles, to lead forth the
mind to contemplation, and to heighten joy and love.
God's kindness to them is a glass set before them, wherein
to behold the beautiful attribute of God's goodness : the
exercises and displays of this attribute, by this means, are
brought near to them, and set right before them. So that
in a holy thankfulness to God, the concern our interest has
in God s goodness, is not the first foundation of our being
affected with it; that was laid in the heart before, in love
to God for his excellency in himself; that makes the heart
tender, and suceptive of such impressions from his good
ness to us. Nor is our own interest, or the benefits we
have received, the only, or the chief objective ground of
the present exercises ofthe affection, but rather God's good
ness, as part of the beauty of his nature. The manifesta
tions of that lovely attribute, however, set immediately
before our eyes, in the exercise of it for us, are a special
occasion of the mind's attention to that beauty, at that time;
and this may serve to heighten the affection.
Some may perhaps be ready to object, against the whole
that has been said, that text, (1 John iv. 19.) " We love
him, because he first loved us ;" as though this implied
that God's love to the true saints were the first foundation
of their love to him. In answer to this I would observe,
that the apostle's drift in these words, is to magnify the
love of God to us from hence, that he loved us, while we
had no love to him ; as will be manifest to any one who
compares this verse and the two following, with the 9th,
10th, and 11th verses. And that God loved us, when we
had no love to him, the apostle proves by this argument,
that God's love to the elect, is the ground of their love to
him. And it is so three ways : 1. The saints' love to God
is the fruit of God's love to them, as it is the gift of that
love. God gave them a spirit of love to him, because he
loved them from eternity ; his love to his elect is the foun
dation of their regeneration, and the whole of their redemp
tion. 2. The exercises and discoveries God has made of
his wonderful love to sinful men by Jesus Christ, in the
work of redemption, are among the chief manifestations of
his glorious moral perfections to both angels and men ; and
so is one main objective ground of the love of both to God,
in a good consistence with what was said before. 3. God's
love to a particular elect person, discovered by his conver
sion, is a great manifestation of God's moral perfection and
# Dr. Owen on the Spirit, p. 199, speaking of a common work of the
Spirit, says, " The effects of this work on the mind, which is the first sub
ject affected with it, proceeds not so far as to give it delight, complacency,
and satisfaction, in the lovely spiritual nature and excellencies ofthe things
revealed unto it The true nature of saving illumination consists in this,
that it gives the mind such a direct intuitive insight and prospect into spi
ritual things, as that in their own spiritual nature they suit, please, and
satisfy it ; so that it is transformed into them, cast into the mould of them,
and rests in them ; Rom. vi. 17. chap. xii. 2. 1 Cor. ii. 13, 14. 2 Cor. iii. 18.
chap. iv. 6. This the work we have insisted on, reacheth not unto. For

glory to him ;. and thus is a proper occasion of exciting holy
gratitude, agreeable to what was before said. And that
the saints, in these respects, love God, because he first loved
them, fully answers the design of the apostle's argument
in that place. So that no good argument can be drawn
from hence, against a spiritual and gracious love in the
saints, arising primarily from the excellency of divine things
as they are in themselves, and not from any conceived re
lation they bear to their interest.
And as it is with the love of the saints, so it is with their
joy, and spiritual delight: the first foundation of it is not
any consideration of their interest in divine things; but it
primarily consists in the sweet entertainment their minds
have in the contemplation of the divine and holy beauty of
these things, as they are in themselves. And this is indeed
the very main difference between the joy of the hypocrite,
and the joy of the true saint. The former rejoices in him
self; self is the first foundation of his joy : the latter re
joices in God. The hypocrite has his mind pleased aud
delighted, in the first place, with his own privilege, and
happiness to which he supposes he has attained, or shall
attain. True saints have their minds, in the first place, in
expressibly pleased and delighted with the sweet ideas of
the glorious and amiable nature of the things of God. This
is the spring of all their delights, and the cream of all their
pleasures; it is the joy of their joy. This sweet and ravish
ing entertainment they have in viewing the beautiful and
delightful nature of divine things, is the foundation of the
joy they have afterward in the consideration of their being
theirs. But the dependence of the affections of hypocrites
is in a contrary order : they first rejoice and are elevated,
that they are the favourites of God ; and then, on that
ground, he seems in a sort lovely to them.
The first foundation of the delight a true saint has in
God, is his own perfection; and the first foundation ofthe
delight he has in Christ, in his own beauty ; he appears in
himself the chief among ten thousand, and altogether love
ly. The way of salvation by Christ is a delightful way to
him, for the sweet and admirable manifestations of the
divine perfections in it. The holy doctrines ofthe gospel,
by which God is exalted and man abased, holiness honour
ed and promoted, sin greatly disgraced and discouraged,
and free, sovereign love manifested, are glorious doctrines
in his eyes, and sweet to his taste, prior to any conception
of his interest in these things. Indeed the saints rejoice in
their interest in God, and that Christ is theirs ; and so they
have great reason : but this is not the first spring of their
joy. They first rejoice in God as glorious and excellent in
himself, and then secondarily rejoice in it, that so glorious
a God is theirs. They first have their hearts filled with
sweetness, from the view of Christ's excellency, the excel
lency of his grace, and the beauty of salvation by him ; and
then, they have a secondary joy, in that so excellent a
Saviour and such excellent grace, is theirs'* But that
which is the true saint's superstructure is the hypocrite's
foundation. When they hear of the wonderful things of
the gospel, of God's great love in sending his Son, of
Christ's dying love to sinners, the great things Christ has
purchased and promised to the saints, and hear these
things eloquently set forth ; they may hear with a great
deal of pleasure, and be lifted up with what they near.
But if their joy be examined, it will be found to have no
other foundation than this, that they look upon these things
as theirs, all this exalts them, they love to hear ofthe great
love of Christ vastly distinguishing some from others ; for
self-love makes them affect great distinction from others.
No wonder, in this confident opinion of their own good
estate, that they feel well under such doctrine, and are
pleased in the highest degree, in hearing how much God
and Christ makes of them. So that their joy is really a
joy in themselves, and not in God.
And hence it comes to pass, that in their rejoicings and
notwithstanding any discovery that is made therein of spiritual things unto
the mind, it finds not an immediate, direct, spiritual excellency in them ;
but only with respect unto some benefit or advantage, which is to be attain
ed by means thereof. It will not give such a spiritual insight into the mys
tery of God's grace by Jesus Christ, called his glory shining in the face of
Christ, 2 Cor. iv. 6. as that the soul, in its first direct view of it, should, for
what it is in itself, admire it, delight in it, approve it, and find spiritual so
lace, with refreshment, in it. But such a light, such a knowledge, it commu
nicates, as that a man may like it well in its effects, as a way of mercy and
salvation."

278

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

elevations, hypocrites are wont to keep their eye upon
themselves ; having received what they call spiritual dis
coveries, their minds are taken up about their own expe
riences ; and not the glory of God, or the beauty of Christ.
They keep thinking with themselves, what a good experi
ence is this ! what a great discovery is this ! what wonder
ful things have I met wilh ! and so they put their experi
ences in the place of Christ, his beauty and fulness.
Instead of rejoicing in Christ Jesus, they rejoice in their
admirable experiences. Instead of feeding and feasting
their souls in viewing the innate, sweet, refreshing amiable
ness of the things exhibited in the gospel, they view them
only as it were side-ways. The object that fixes their con
templation, is their experience ; and they are ever feeding
their souls, and feasting a selfish principle, with a view of
iheir discoveries. They take more comfort in their disco
veries than in CAris* discovered. This is the true notion
of living upon experiences and frames ; and not our using
them as an evidence of our good estate. It is very observ
able, that some who reject evidences are most notorious for
living upon experience, according to the true notion of it.
The affections of hypocrites are very often after this man
ner ; they are first much affected with some impression on
their imagination, or some impulse, which they take to be
an immediate suggestion, or testimony from God, of his
love and their happiness. They fancy a high privilege in
some respect, either with or without a text of Scripture ;
they are mightily taken with this, as a great discovery ;
and hence arise high affections. When their affections are
raised, they view those high affections, and call them great
and wonderful experiences ; and they have a notion that
God is greatly pleased with those affections. This affects
them still more ; and so they are affected with their affec
tions. Thus their affections rise higher and higher, until
they sometimes are perfectly swallowed up; also self-con
ceit, and a fierce zeal rises ; and all is built, like a castle in
the air, on nothing but imagination, self-love, and pride.
And as are the thoughts of such persons, so is their
talk ; for out of the abundance of their heart their mouth
speaketh. As in their high affections they keep their eye
upon the beauty of their experiences, and greatness of
their attainments ; so they are great talkers about them
selves. The true saint, when under great spiritual affec
tions, from the fulness of his heart is ready to speak much
of God, his glorious perfections and works, the beauty and
amiableness of Christ, and the glorious things of the
gospel ; but hypocrites, in their high affections, talk more
of the discovery, than of the thing discovered. They are
full of talk about the wonderful discoveries they have
had, how sure they are of the love of God to them, how
safe their condition is, how they know they shall go to
heaven, &c.
A true saint, when in the enjoyment of true discoveries
of the sweet glory of God and Christ, has his mind too
much captivated and engaged by what he views without
himself, to stand at that time to view himself, and his own
attainments. It would be a loss which he could not bear,
to have his eye taken off from the ravishing object of his
contemplation, in order to survey his own experience, and
to spend time in thinking with himself, What a high
attainment this' is, and what a good story I now have to
tell others ! Nor does the pleasure and sweetness of his
mind at that time, chiefly arise from the consideration of
the safety of his state, or any thing he has in view of his
own qualifications, experiences, or circumstances; but
from the divine and supreme beauty of what is the object
of his direct view, without himself; which sweetly enter
tains, and strongly holds his mind.
As the love and joy of hypocrites are all from the source
of self-love, so it is with their other affections, their sorrow
for sin their humiliation and submission, their religious
desires and zeal. Every thing is as it were paid for before
hand, in God's highly gratifying their self-love, by making
so much of them, and exalting them so highly, as things
are in their imagination. It is easy for nature, corrupt as
it is, under a notion of being already some of the highest
favourites of heaven, and having a God who so protects
and favours them in their sins, to love this imaginary God
that suits them so well; and equally easy to extol him,
submit to him, and to be fierce and zealous for him. The

high affections of many are all built on the supposition of
their being eminent saints. If that opinion which they
have of themselves were taken away, if they thought they
were some of the lower form of saints, (though they should
yet suppose themselves to be real saints,) their high affec
tions would fall to the ground. If they only saw a little
of the sinfulness and vileness of their own hearts, and
their deformity in the midst of their best duties and their
best affections, it would destroy their affections ; because
they are built upon self, self-knowledge would destroy
them. Bst as to truly gracious affections, they have their
foundation in God and Jesus Christ ; and therefore a dis
covery of themselves, of their own deformity, and the
meanness of their experiences, though it will purify their
affections, yet it will not destroy them, but in some respect-
sweeten and heighten them.

SECT. III.
Those affections that are truly holy, are primarily founded
on the moral excellency of divine things. Or, a love to
divine things for the beauty and sweetness of their moral
excellency, is the spring of all holy affections.
Here, for the sake of the more illiterate reader, I will
explain what I mean by the moral excellency of divine
things. — The word moral is not to be understood here, ac
cording to the common acceptation, when men speak of
morality, and a moral behaviour; meaning an outward
conformity to the duties of the moral law, and especially
the duties of the second table. Nor is it taken for mere
seeming virtues, proceeding from natural principles, in
opposition to those that are more inward, spiritual, and
divine. The honesty, justice, generosity, good-nature, and
public spirit of many of the heathen, are called moral
virtues, in distinction from the holy faith, love, humility,
and heavenly-mindedness of true Christians ; but the
word moral is not to be understood so in this place.
In order to a right understanding of what is meant, it
must be observed, that divines commonly make a distinc
tion between moral good and evil, and natural good and
evil. By moral evil, they mean the evil of sin, or that
evil which is against duty, and contrary to what is right
and ought to be. By natural evil, they do not mean that
evil which is properly opposed to duty ; but that which is
contrary to mere nature, without any respect to a rule of
duty. So the evil of suffering is called natural evil, such
as pain and torment, disgrace, and the like : these things
are contrary to mere nature, hateful to wicked men and
devils, as well as good men and angels. If a child be
monstrous, or a natural fool, these are natural, but not
moral evils, because they have not properly the nature of
the evil of sin. On the other hand, as by moral evil
divines mean sin, or that which is contrary to what is
right ; so by moral good, they mean that which is con
trary to sin : or, in other words, that good in beings who
have will and choice, whereby, as voluntary agents, they
are, and act, as it becomes them to be and to act. And, it
is obvious, that is becoming, which is most fit, suitable, and
lovely. By natural good, they mean that good which is
entirely of a different kind from holiness or virtue, viz.
that which perfects or suits nature, considering nature ab
stractly from any holy or unholy qualifications, and with
out any relation to any rule or measure of right and wrong.
Thus pleasure is a natural good ; so is honour ; so is
strength ; and so is speculative knowledge, human learn
ing, and policy. Thus there is a distinction to be made
between men s natural and their moral good ; and also
between the natural and moral good of the angels in hea
ven. The great capacity of angelic understandings, their
great strength, and the honourable circumstances they are
in as the great ministers of God's kingdom, whence they
are called thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers,
is their natural good. But their perfect holiness and glori
ous goodness, their pure and flaming love to God, to the
saints and one another, is their moral good. So divines
make a distinction between the natural and moral perfec
tions of God : by the moral perfections of God, they mean
those attributes which God exercises as a moral agent, or

Sect. III. THEY ARE FOUNDED ON THE MORAL EXCELLENCY OF OBJECTS.

279

whereby the heart and will of God, are good, right, in
finitely becoming, and lovely ; such as his righteousness,
truth, faithfulness, and goodness ; or, in one word, his
holiness. By God's natural perfections, they mean those
attributes wherein his greatness consists ; such as his
power, his knowledge, his being from everlasting to ever
lasting, his omnipresence, his awful and terrible majesty.
The moral excellency of an intelligent voluntary being,
is more immediately seated in the heart or will. That in
telligent being whose will is truly right and lovely, he is
morally good or excellent. — This moral excellency, when
it is true and real, is holiness. Therefore holiness compre
hends all the true moral excellency of intelligent beings :
there is no other true virtue, but real holiness. Holiness
comprehends all the true virtue of a good man ; his love
to God, his gracious love to men, his justice, his charity,
his bowels of mercies, his gracious meekness and gentle
ness, and all other christian virtues, belong to his holiness.
So the holiness of God, in the more extensive sense of
the word — the sense in which the word is commonly, if
not universally, used concerning God in Scripture — is the
same with the moral excellency of the divine nature ;
comprehending all his moral perfections, his righteousness,
faithfulness, and goodness. As in holy men, their chris
tian kindness and mercy belong to their holiness ; so the
kindness and mercy of God belong to his holiness. Holi
ness in man, is but the image of God's holiness ; and
surely there are not more virtues belonging to the image,
than are in the original. Has derived holiness more in it,
than is in that underived holiness, which is its fountain ?
As there are two kinds of attributes in God, according
to our way of conceiving of him, his moral attributes, which
are summed up in his holiness, and his natural attributes —
strength, knowledge, &c. — that constitute his greatness ;
so there is a twofold image of God in man, his moral or
spiritual image, which is his holiness, that is the image of
God's moral excellency ; (which image was lost by the fall ;)
and God's natural image, consisting in man's reason and
understanding, his natural ability, and dominion over the
creatures, which is the image of God's natural attributes.
From what has been said, it may easily be understood
what I intend, when I say that love to divine things for
the beauty of their moral excellency, is the spring of all
holy affections.
It has been already shown, under the former head, that
the first objective ground of all holy affections is the su
preme excellency of divine things as they are in their own
nature. I now proceed further, and say more particularly,
that the kind of excellency which is the first objective
ground of all holy affections, is their holiness. Holy per
sons, in the exercise of holy affections, love divine things
primarily for their holiness ; they love God, in the first
place, for the beauty of his holiness, or moral perfection, as
being supremely amiable in. itself. Not that the saints, in
the exercise of gracious affections, love God only for his
holiness ; all his attributes are amiable and glorious in
their eyes ; they delight in every divine perfection ; the
contemplation of the infinite greatness, power, knowledge,
and terrible majesty of God, is pleasant to them. But
their love to God for his holiness is what is most funda
mental and essential in their love. Here it is that true love
to God begins ; all other holv love to divine things flows
from hence. Love to God for the beauty of his moral at
tributes, necessarily causes a delight in God for all his
attributes ; for his moral attributes cannot be without his
natural attributes. Infinite holiness supposes infinite wis
dom, and infinite greatness ; and all the attributes of God
as it were imply one another.
The true beauty and loveliness of all intelligent beings
primarily and most essentially consist in their moral ex
cellency or holiness. Herein consists the loveliness of
angels, without which, notwithstanding all their natural
perfections, they would have no more loveliness than devils.
It is moral excellency alone, that is in itself, and on its
own account, the excellency of intelligent beings : it is
this that gives beauty to, or'rather is the beauty of, their
natural perfections and qualifications. Moral excellency,
if I may so speak, is the excellency of natural excellencies.
Natural qualifications are either excellent or otherwise, ac
cording as they are joined with moral excellency or not.

Strength and knowledge do not render any being lovely
without holiness, but more hateful; though they render
them more lovely when joined with holiness. Thus the
elect angels are the more glorious for their strength and
knowledge, because these natural perfections of theirs are
sanctified by their moral perfection. But though the devils
are very strong, and of great natural understanding, yet
they are not the more lovelv. They are more terrible, in
deed, not more amiable ; but on the contrary, the more
hateful. The holiness of an intelligent creature, is the
beauty of all his natural perfections. And so it is in God,
according to our way of conceiving of the Divine Being :
holiness is in a peculiar manner the beauty of the divine
nature. Hence we often read of the beauty of holiness,
(Psal. xxix. 2. Psal. xcvi. 9. and ex. 3.) This renders
all his other attributes glorious and lovely. It is the glory
of God's wisdom, that it is a holy wisdom, and not a
wicked subtlety. This makes his majestv lovely, and not
merely dreadful and horrible, that it is a holy majesty. It
is the glory of God's immutability, that it is a holy immu
tability, and not an inflexible obstinacy in wickedness.
And therefore it must needs be, that a sight of God's
loveliness must begin here. A true love to God must
begin with a delight in his holiness, and not with a delight
in any other attribute ; for no other attribute is truly lovely
without this, and no otherwise than as (according to our
way of conceiving God) it derives its loveliness from this.
Therefore, it is impossible that other attributes should ap
pear lovelv, in their true loveliness, until this is seen : and
it is impossible that any perfection of the divine nature
should be loved with true love until this is loved. If the
true loveliness of all God's perfections, arises from the love
liness of his holiness ; then the true love of all his perfec
tions, arises from the love of his holiness. They that do
not see the glory of God's holiness, cannot see any thing
of the true glorv of his mercy and grace. They see nothing
of the glory of those attributes, as any excellency of God's
nature, as it is in itself; though they may be affected with
them, and love them, as they concern their interest. For
these attributes are no part of the excellency of God's na
ture, as that is excellent in itself, any otherwise than as
they are included in his holiness, more largely taken ; or
as they are a part of his moral perfection.
As the beauty of the divine nature primarily consists in
God's holiness, so does the beauty of all divine things.
Herein consists the beauty of the saints, that they are saints,
or holy ones : it is the moral image of God in them, which
is their beauty ; and that is their holiness. Herein con
sists the beautv and brightness of the angels of heaven,
that they are holy angels, and so not devils ; (Dan. iv. 13,
17, 23. Matt. xxv. 31. Mark viii. 38. Acts x. 22. Rev.
xiv. 10.) Herein consists the beauty of the christian reli
gion, above all other religions, that it is so holy a religion.
Herein consists the excellency of the word of God, that it
is so holy ; Psal. cxix. 140. " Thy word is very pure,
therefore thy servant loveth it. Ver. 128. 1 esteem all thy
precepts concerning all things to be right ; and I hate
every false way. Ver. 138. Thy testimonies that thou hast
commanded, are righteous, and very faithful. And 172.
My tongue shall speak of thy word ; for all thy command
ments are righteousness." And Psal. xix. 7 — 10. " The
law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul : the testi
mony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. The
statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart : the
commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever : the judg
ments of the Lord are true, and righteous altogether : more
to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold ;
sweeter also than honey, and the honey-comb." Herein
primarily consists the amiableness and beauty of the Lord
Jesus, whereby he is the chief among ten thousands, and
altogether lovely; even in that he is the holy One of God,
Acts iii. 14. and God's holy Child, Acts iv. 27. and he that
is holy, he that is true, Rev. iii. 7. All the spiritual beauty
of his human nature, his meekness, lowliness, patience,
heavenliness, love to God, love to men, condescension to
the mean and vile, compassion to the miserable, &c. all is
summed up in his holiness. And the beauty of his divine
nature, of which the beauty of his human nature is the
image and reflection, also primarily consists in his holiness.

280

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

Herein primarily consists the glory of the gospel, that it
is a holy gospeli and so bright an emanation of the holy
beauty of God and Jesus Christ. Herein consists the
spiritual beauty of its doctrines, that they are holy doc
trines, or doctrines according to godliness. Herein consists
the spiritual beauty of the way of salvation by Jesus
Christ, that it is so holy a way. And herein chiefly con
sists the glory of heaven, that it is the holy city, the holy
Jerusalem, the habitation of God's holiness, and so of his
glory, Isa. lxiii. 15. . All the beauties of the new Jeru
salem, as it is described in the two last chapters of Reve
lation, are but various representations of this. (See chap.
xxi. 2, 10, 11, 18, 21, 27. chap. xxii. 1, 3.)
And therefore it is primarily on account of this kind of
excellency, that the saints love all these things. Thus
they love the word of God, because it is very pure. It is
on this account they love the saints ; and on this account
chiefly it is, that heaven is lovely to them, and those holy
tabernacles of God amiable in their eyes. It is on this
account that they love God ; and on this account primarily
it is, that they love Christ, and that their hearts delight in
the doctrines of the gospel, and sweetly acquiesce in the
way of salvation therein revealed.*
Under the head of the first distinguishing characteristic
of gracious affection, I observed, that there is given to the
regenerated a new supernatural sense, a certain divine
spiritual taste. This is in its whole nature diverse from
any former kinds of sensation of the mind, as tasting is
diverse from any of the other five senses, and something
is perceived by a true saint in the exercise of this new
sense of mind, in spiritual and divine things, as entirely
different from any thing that is perceived in them by na
tural men, as the sweet taste of honey is diverse from the
ideas men get of honey by looking on it or feeling of it.
Now the beauty of holiness, is that which is perceived by
this spiritual sense, so diverse from all that natural men
perceive in them ; or, this kind of beauty is the quality
that is the immediate object of this spiritual sense ; this is
the sweetness that is the proper object of this spiritual
taste. The Scripture often represents the beauty and
sweetness of holiness as the grand object of a spiritual
taste and spiritual appetite. This was the sweet food of
the holy soul of Jesus Christ, John iv. 32, 34. " I have
meat to eat, that ye know not of.  My meat is to do
the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work." I
know of no part of the Holy Scriptures, where the nature
and evidences of true and sincere godliness are so fully
and largely insisted on and delineated, as in the 119th
Psalm. The psalmist declares his design in the first verses
of the psalm, keeps his eye on it all along, and pursues it
to the end. The excellency of holiness is represented as
the immediate object of a spiritual taste and delight.
God's law, that grand expression and emanation of the Ho
liness of God's nature, and prescription of holiness to the
creature, is all along represented as the great object of the
love, the complacence, and rejoicing of the gracious na
ture, which prizes God's commandments above gold, yea,
the finest gold, and to which they are sweeter than the
honey, and the honey-comb; and that upon account of
their holiness, as I observed before. The same psalmist
declares, that this is the sweetness that a spiritual taste
relishes in God's law, Psal. xix. 7 — 10. " The law of the
Lord is perfect:  the commandment of the Lord is
pure ; the fear of the Lord is clean ; the statutes of the
Lord are right, rejoicing the heart :  the judgments of
the Lord are true, and righteous altogether ; more to be
desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold :
sweeter also than honey, and the honey-comb."
A holy love has a holy object : the holiness of love
consists especially in this, that it is the love of that which
is holy, for its holiness ; so that the holiness of the ob-
iect, is the quality whereon it fixes and terminates. A
loly nature must needs love that chiefly, which is most
agreeable to itself; but surely that which above all others
is agreeable to a holy nature, is holiness ; for nothing can
* " To the right closing with Christ's person, this is also required, to taste
the bitterness of sin, as the greatest evil ; else a man will never close with
Christ, for his holiness in him, and from him, as the greatest good. For we
told you, that that is the right closing with Christ for himself, when it is for
his holiness. For ask a whorish heart, what beauty he sees in the person
of Christ : he will, after he has looked over his kingdom, his righteousness,

I

be more agreeable to any nature than itself. And so the
holy nature of God and Christ, the word of God, and other
divine things, must be above all agreeable to the holy
nature of the saints.
Again, _ holy nature doubtless loves holy things espe-
cially on account of that for which sinful nature has
enmity against them : but that for which chiefly sinful na
ture is at enmity against holy things, is their holiness ; it
is for this, that the carnal mind is enmity against God,
against the law, and the people of God. Now, it is just
arguing from contraries; from contrary causes, to con
trary effects ; from opposite natures, to opposite tenden
cies. We know that holiness is of a directly contrary
nature to wickedness : as therefore it is the nature of wick
edness chiefly to oppose and hate holiness ; so it must be
the nature of holiness chiefly to tend to and delight in
holiness. The holy nature of saints and angels in heaven (where
the true tendency of it best appears) is principally en
gaged by the holiness of divine things. This is the divine
beauty which chiefly engages the attention, admiration,
and constant praise of the bright and burning seraphim ;
Isa. vi. 3. " One cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy,
holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of his
glory." Rev. iv. 8. " They rest not day and night, saying,
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is,
and is to come." So the glorified saints, chap. xv. 4.
" Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name ?
for thou only art holy."
And the Scriptures represent the saints on earth as ador
ing God primarily on this account; they admire and extol
all God's attributes, either as deriving loveliness from his
holiness, or as being a part of it. Thus when they praise
God for his power, his holiness is the beauty that engages
them; Psal. xcviii. 1. "O sing unto the Lord a new
song, for he hath done marvellous things : his right hand
and his holy arm hath gotten him the victory." So when
they praise him for his justice and terrible majesty ; Psal.
xcix. 2, 3. " The Lord is great in Zion, and he is high
above all people. Let them praise thy great and ten-ible
name, for it is holy." Verse 6. " Exalt ye the Lord our
God, and worship at his footstool : for he is holy." Ver.
8, 9. " Thou wast a God that forgavest them, though
thou tookest vengeance of their inventions. Exalt ye the
Lord our God, and worship at his holy hill : for the Lord
our God is holy." So when they praise God for his mercy
and faithfulness ; Psal. xcvii. 11, 12. " Light is sown for
the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. Re
joice in the Lord, ye righteous : and give thanks at the re
membrance of his holiness." 1 Sam. ii. 2. "There is none
holy as the Lord : for there is none beside thee : neither is
there any rock like our God."
By this therefore all may try their affections, and parti
cularly their love and joy. Various creatures show the
difference of their natures, very much, in the things they
relish as their proper good, one delighting in that which
another abhors. Such a difference is there between true
saints and natural men : natural men have no sense of
the goodness and excellency of holy things, at least for
their holiness. They have no taste for that kind of good,
and so may be said not to know it; it is wholly hid from
them. But the saints, by the mighty power of'God, have
it discovered to them ; they have that supernatural sense
given them, by which they perceive it. It is this that
captivates their hearts, and delights them above all things ;
it is the most amiable and sweet thing, to the heart of a
true saint in heaven or earth ; that which above all others
attracts and engages his soul ; and that wherein, above all
things, he places his happiness, both in this world, and in
another. By this you may examine your love to God, to
Jesus Christ, to the word of God, and to his people. By
this you may examine your desires after heaven ; whether
they be from a supreme delight in this sort of beauty,
without being primarily moved by your imagined interest
m them, or expectations from them. There are many high
alibis works, see a beauty in them, because they do serve his turn, to com
fort him only. Ask a virgin, he will see his happiness in all; butthatwhich
makes the Lord amiable is his holiness, which is in him to make him holv
L0,,0,; ^ ln "SfS1"*8- " 1S. *f _*?_ I*,1 bcau'y draws the heart And hence _
have thought it reason, that he that loves the brethren for a Utile grace will
love Christ much more." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p: 84.

Sect. III. THEY ARE FOUNDED ON THE MORAL EXCELLENCY OF OBJECTS.

281

affections, great seeming love and rapturous joys, which
have nothing of this holy relish belonging to them.
Particularly, you may try your discoveries of the glory
of God's grace and love, and your affections arising from
them. The grace of God may appear lovely two ways ;
either as bonum utile, a profitable good to me, what greatly
serves my interest, and so suits my self-love ; or as bonum
for-mosum, a beautiful good in itself, and part of the moral
and spiritual excellency of the divine nature. In this lat
ter respect it is that true saints have their hearts affected,
and love captivated,'by the free grace of God.
Thus it appears, that though persons may have a great
sense of the natural perfections of God, and are greatly
affected with them, or have any other sight or sense of
God than that which consists in the beauty of his moral
perfections, it is no certain sign of grace. What though
men have a great sense of the awful greatness and terrible
majesty of God ; this is only his natural perfection, which
men may see, and yet be entirely blind to the beauty of
his moral perfection, and have nothing of that spiritual
taste which relishes this divine sweetness.
It has been shown already, in what was said upon the
first distinguishing mark of gracious affections, that what
is spiritual, is entirely different in its nature, from all that
it is possible for any graceless person to have, while he
continues graceless. But it is possible that those who are
wholly without grace, should have a clear sight, and very
great and affecting sense, of God's greatness, his mighty
power, and awful majesty ; for this is what the devils have,
though they have lost the spiritual knowledge of God, con
sisting in a sense of the amiableness of his moral perfec
tions. They are perfectly destitute of any relish of that
kind of beauty, yet they have a very great knowledge of
the natural glory of God, his awful greatness and majesty;
this they behold, and therefore tremble before him. This
glory of God all shall behold at the day of judgment ;
God will make all rational beings to behold it, angels and
devils, saints and sinners. Christ will manifest his infinite
greatness and awful majesty to every one, in a light that
none can resist, when he shall come in the glory of his Far
ther, and every eye shall see him. Then they shall cry to
the mountains to fall upon them, to hide them from the
face of him that sits upon the throne. God will make all
his enemies to behold this, and to live in a most clear and
affecting view of it, to all eternity. God hath often de
clared his immutable purpose to make all his enemies to
know him in this respect, in so often annexing these words
to the threatenings he denounces against them, And they
shall know that I am the Lord ; yea, he hath sworn that
all men shall see his glory in this respect, Num. xiv. 21.
" As truly as I live, all the earth shall be filled with the
glory of the Lord." And this kind of manifestation of
God is very often spoken of in Scripture, as made, or to
be made, in the sight of God's enemies in this world.*
This was a manifestation which God made of himself in
the sight of that wicked congregation at mount Sinai ;
deeply affecting them with it ; so that all the people in the
camp trembled. Wicked men and devils will see, and
have a great sense, of every thing that appertains to the
glory of God, except the beauty of his moral perfection.
They will see his infinite greatness, majesty, and power,
and will be fully convinced of his omniscience, eternity,
and immutability ; and even will see every thing apper
taining to his moral attributes themselves, except their
beauty and amiableness. They will see and know that he
is perfectly just, righteous, and true ; and that he is a holy
God, of purer eyes than to behold evil, who cannot look on
iniquity; and they will see the wonderful manifestations of
his infinite goodness and free grace to the saints. Nothing
will be hid from their eyes, but the beauty of these moral
attributes, and that beauty of the other attributes, which
arises from it. And so natural men while in this world
are capable of having a very affecting sense of every thing
that appertains to God, but this only. Nebuchadnezzar
had a great and very affecting sense of the infinite greatness
and awful majesty of God ; of his supreme and absolute do
minion, his irresistible power, and high sovereignty. He
saw that he, and all the inhabitants of the earth, were as
* See Exod. ix. 16. and chap. xiv. 18. and xv. 16. Psal. lxvi. 3. and xlvi.

nothing before him, had a great conviction in his conscience
of his justice, and an affecting sense of his great goodness,
Dan. iv. 1—3, 34, 35, 37. And the sense that Darius had
of God's perfections, seems to be very much like his, Dan.
vi. 25, &c. But saints and angels behold the beauty of
God's holiness: and this sight only, will melt and humble
the hearts of men, wean them from the world, draw
them to God, and effectually change them. A sight of
the awful greatness of God may overpower men's strength,
and be more than they can endure; but if the moral
beauty of God be hid, the enmity of the heart will remain in
its full strength. No love will be kindled, the will, instead
of being effectually gained, will remain inflexible ; where
as the first glimpse of the moral and spiritual glory of
God shining into the heart, produces all these effects with
a power which nothing can withstand.
The sense that natural men may have of the awful great
ness of God, may affect them various ways ; it may not
only terrify, but elevate them, and raise their joy and
praise. This will be the natural effect of it, under the real
or supposed receipt of some extraordinary mercy from God,
by the influence of mere principles of nature. It has
been shown already, that the receipt of kindness may, by
the influence of natural principles, affect the heart wit-
gratitude and praise to God ; but if a person, at the same
time, has a sense of his infinite greatness, and that he is as
nothing in comparison of him, surely this will naturally
raise his gratitude and praise the higher, for kindness to one
so much inferior. A sense of God's greatness had this
effect upon Nebuchadnezzar, on that extraordinary favour
of his restoration, after he had been driven from men, and
had his dwelling with the beasts. A sense of God's ex
ceeding greatness raises his gratitude very high ; so that
he does, in the most lofty terms, extol and magnify God,
and calls upon all the world to do it with him. If a na
tural man, at the same time that he is greatly affected with
God's infinite greatness and majesty, entertains a strong
conceit that this great God has made him his child and
special favourite, and promised him eternal glory in his
highest love, will not this have a tendency, according to
the course of nature, to raise his joy and praise to a great
height. Therefore, it is beyond doubt, that too much weight
has been laid on the discoveries of God's greatness, awful
majesty, and natural perfection, operating after this man
ner, without any real view of the holy, lovely majesty of
God. And experience does abundantly confirm what
reason and Scripture declare as to this matter ; there hav
ing been very many persons, who have seemed to be over
powered with the greatness and awful majesty of God, but
nave been very far from a christian spirit and temper, in
any proportion, or fruits in practice in any wise agreeable ;
nay, their discoveries have worked in a way contrary to the
operation of truly spiritual discoveries.
Not that a sense of God's greatness and natural attri
butes is not useful and necessary. For, as I observed be
fore, this is implied in a manifestation of the beauty of
God's holiness. Though that be something beyond it, it
supposes it, as the greater supposes the less. And though
natural men may have a sense of the natural perfections
of God ; yet undoubtedly this is more frequent and com
mon with the saints, than with them. Grace enables
men to see these things in a better manner, than natural
men do ; and not only enables them to see God's natural
attributes, but that beauty of those attributes, which (ac
cording to our way of conceiving of God) is derived from
his holiness.

SECT. IV.
Gracious affections arise from the mind being enlightened
rightly and spiritually to apprehend divine things.
Holy affections are not heat without light ; but ever
more arise from some information of the understanding,
some spiritual instruction that the mind receives, some
light or actual knowledge. The child of God is graciously
10. and other places innumerable.

282

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

affected, because he sees and understands something more
of divine things than he did before, more of God or Christ,
and of the glorious things exhibited in the gospel. He
has a clearer and better view than he had before, when he
was not affected ; either he receives some new understand
ing of divine things, or has his former knowledge re
newed after the view was decaved ; 1 John iv. 7. " Every
one that loveth, knoweth God." Phil. i. 9. " I pray that
your love may abound more and more in knowledge, and
in all judgment." Rom. x. 2. " They have a zeal of God,
but not according to knowledge." Col. iii. 10. " The new
man, which is renewed in knowledge." Psal. xliii. 3, 4.
" O send out thy light and thy truth ; let them lead me,
let them bring me unto thy holy hill." John vi. 45. "It is
written in the prophets, And they shall be all taught of God.
Every man therefore that hath heard, and learned of the
Father, cometh unto me." Knowledge is the key that first
opens the hard heart, enlarges the affections, and opens the
way for men into the kingdom of heaven ; Luke xi. 52.
" Ye have taken away the key of knowledge."
Now there are many affections which do not arise from
any light in the understanding; which is a sure evidence
that these affections are not spiritual, let them be ever so
high.* Indeed they have some new apprehensions which
they had not before. Such is the nature of man, that it is
impossible his mind should be affected, unless it be by
something that he apprehends, or that his mind conceives.
But in many persons those apprehensions or conceptions
wherewith they are affected, have nothing of the nature of
knowledge or instruction in them. For instance ; when a
person is affected with a lively idea, suddenly excited in
his mind, of some shape, or beautiful pleasant form of
countenance, a shining light, or other glorious outward ap
pearance : here is something conceived by the mind ; but
nothing of the nature of instruction. Persons become never
the wiser by such things, more knowing about God, a
Mediator between God and man, the way of salvation by
Christ, or any thing contained in the doctrines of the gos
pel. Persons by these external, ideas have no further
acquaintance with God, as to any of the attributes or per
fections of his nature ; nor have they any further under
standing of his word, his ways, or works. Truly spiritual
and gracious affections are not raised after this' manner ;
these arise from the enlightening of the understanding, to
understand the things taught of God and Christ, in a new
manner. There is a new understanding of the excellent
nature of God and his wonderful perfections, some new
view of Christ in his spiritual excellencies and fulness ; or
things are opened to him in a new manner, wherebv he
now understands those divine and spiritual doctrines which
once were foolishness to him. Such enlightenings of the
understanding as these, are entirely different in their nature,
from strong ideas of shapes and colours, outward brightness
and glory, or sounds and voices. That all gracious affec
tions arise from some instruction, or enlightening of the
understanding, is therefore a further proof, that affections
which arise from such an impression on the imagination,
are not gracious.
Hence also it appears, that affections arising from texts
of Scripture coming to the mind, are vain, when no instruc
tion received in the understanding from those texts, or any
thing taught in them, is the ground of the affection, but the
manner of their coming to the mind. When Christ makes
the Scripture a means of the heart's burning with gracious
affection, it is by opening the Scriptures to their understand
ings ; Luke xxiv. 32. " Did not our heart burn within us,
while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened
to us the Scriptures ?" It appears also that the affection
which is occasioned by the coming of a text of Scrip
ture must be vain, when the affection is founded on
something supposed to be taught by it, which really is
* " Many that have had mighty strong affections at first conversion, af
terwards become dry, and wither, and consume, and pine, and die away :
and now their hypocrisy is manifest ; if not to all the world by open pro-
faneness, yet to the discerning eye of living Christians, by a formal, barren,
unsavoury, unfruitful heart, and course ; because they never had light to
conviction enough as yet. — It is strange to see some people carried with
mighty affection against sin and hell, and after Christ And what is the hell
you fear ? A dreadful place. What is Christ ? They scarce know so much
as devils do; but that is all. Oh trust them not! Many have, and these will
fall away to some lust, or opinion, or pride, or world ; and the reason is,
they never had light enough, John v. 35. John was a burning and shining
light, and they aid joy in him for a season; yet glorious as it was, they

not contained in it, nor in any other Scripture ; because
such supposed instruction is not real instruction, but
a misapprehension of the mind. For instance, when
persons suppose that they are expressly taught by some
scripture coming to their minds, that they in particular
are beloved of God, that their sins are forgiven, that
God is their Father, and the like ; this is a misapprehen
sion ; for the Scripture no where reveals the individual
persons who are beloved, expressly, but only by revealing
the qualifications of persons beloved of God!  There
fore this matter is not to be learned from Scripture any
other way than by consequence, from these qualifications ;
for things are not to be learned from the Scripture any other
way than they are taught in the Scripture.
Affections really arise from ignorance, rather than in
struction, in the instances which have been mentioned ; as
likewise in some others that might be mentioned. Some,
when they find themselves free of speech in prayer, call it
God's being with them ; this affects them, and their affec
tions are increased ; when they look not into the cause of
this freedom of speech, which may arise many other ways
besides God's spiritual presence. So some are much af
fected with apt thoughts that come into their minds about
the Scripture, and call it the Spirit of God teaching them.
They ascribe many of the workings of their own minds, of
which they have a high opinion, to the special, immediate
influences of God's Spirit ; and so are mightily affected
with their privilege. And there are some instances of per
sons, in whom it seems manifest, that the first ground of
their affection is some bodily sensation. The animal spirits,
by some cause, (and probably sometimes by the devil,) are
suddenly and unaccountably put into a very agreeable mo
tion, causing persons to feel pleasantly in their bodies ; the
spirits being put into such a motion as is wont to be con
nected with the exhilaration of the mind ; and the soul,
by the laws of its union with the body, hence feels plea
sure. This motion of the animal spirits does not first
arise from any apprehension of the mind whatsoever ; but
the very first thing felt, is an exhilaration and a pleasant
external sensation, it may be, in their breasts. Hence
through ignorance, the person being surprised, begins to
think, surely this is the Holy Ghost coming into him.
And then the mind begins to be affected and raised : there
is first great joy ; and then many other affections, in a very
tumultuous manner, putting all nature, both body and
mind, into a mighty ruffle. For though, as I observed
before, it is the soul only that is the seat ofthe affections;
yet this hinders not but that bodily sensations may, in this
manner, be an occasion of affections in the mind.
And though men's religious affections truly arise from
some instruction, or light in the understanding ; yet the
affection is not gracious, unless the light which is the
ground of it be spiritual. Affections may be excited by
what they obtain merely by human teaching, with the com
mon improvement of their faculties. Men may be much
affected by knowledge of religious things obtained this
way; as some philosophers have been mightily affected,
and almost carried beyond themselves, by the discoveries
they have made in mathematics and natural philosophy.
So men may be much affected from common illuminations
of the Spirit of God, in which he assists their faculties to a
greater degree of that kind of understanding of religious
matters, which they have by the ordinary exercise and im
provement of their own faculties. Such 'illuminations may
much affect the mind ; as in many whom we read of in
Scripture, that were once enlightened : but these affections
are not spiritual.
There is, if the Scriptures are of any use to teach us anv
thing, a spiritual, supernatural understanding of divine
things, peculiar to the saints. 1 Cor. ii. 14. " But the na
tural man receiveth not the things ofthe Spirit of God ; for
saw not Christ by it especially not with divine light. It is rare to see
Christians full both of light and affection. And therefore consider of thisl
many a man has been well brought up, and is of a sweet loving nature
mild, and gentle, and harmless, likes and loves the best things and his
meaning, and mind and heart is good, and has more in heart thin in show ;
and so>opes all shall go well with him. I say, there mav le greatest
hypocrisy under greatest affections ; especially If they wai lighf You
shall be hardened in your hypocrisy by them, 'i neve/ liked violent affec
c^MeM

Sect. IV.

THEY ARISE FROM DIVINE ILLUMINATION.

283

they are foolishness unto him ; neither can he know them,
because they are spiritually discerned." It is certainly a
kind of seeing spiritual things peculiar to the saints, which
is spoken of in 1 John iii. 6. " Whosoever sinneth, hath
not seen him, neither known him." 3 John 11. " He that
doth evil, hath not seen God." And John vi. 40. " This is
the will of him that sent me, that every one that seeth the
Son, and believeth on him, may have everlasting life."
Chap. xiv. 19. " The world seeth me no more; but ye see
me." Chap. xvii. 3. " This is eternal life, that they might
know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou
hast sent." Matt. xi. 27. " No man knoweth the Son, but
the Father ; neither knoweth any man the Father, but the
Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him."
John xii. 45. " He that seeth me, seeth him that sent me."
Psal. ix. 10. "They that know thy name, will put their
trust in thee." Phil. iii. 8. " I count all things but loss,
for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my
Lord: — ver. 10. That I may know him." — Innumerable
other places there are, all over the Bible, which show the
same. And that there is an understanding of divine things,
which in its nature and kind is wholly different from all
knowledge that natural men have, is evident from this, that
there is what the Scripture calls spiritual understanding ;
Col. i. 9. " We do not cease to pray for you, and to desire
that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will, in
all wisdom and spiritual understanding." It has been
already shown, that what is spiritual, in the ordinary use
of the word in the New Testament, is entirely different in
nature and kind, from all which natural men are or can
be the subjects of.
From hence it may be surely inferred, wherein spiritual
understanding consists. For if there be in the saints a
kind of perception, which is in its nature perfectly diverse
from all that natural men can have, it must consist in their
having a certain kind of ideas, or sensations of mind,
which are simply diverse from all that can be in the^minds
of natural men. And that is the same thing as to say, that
it consists in the sensations of a new spiritual sense, which
the souls of natural men have not ; as is evident by what
has been repeatedly observed. But I have already shown
what that new spiritual sense is, which the saints have
given them in regeneration, and what is the object of it.
I have shown that the immediate object of it is the supreme
beauty and excellency of the nature of divine things, as
they are in themselves. And this is agreeable to the
Scripture : the apostle very plainly teaches, that the great
thing discovered by spiritual light, and understood by
spiritual knowledge, is the glory of divine things, 2 Cor.
iv. 3, 4. " But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that
are lost : in whom the god of this world hath blinded the
minds of them that believe not, lest the light of the glori
ous gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should
shine unto them :" together with ver. 6. " For God, who
commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined
into our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the
glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ." And chap.
iii. 18. preceding, " But we all with open face, beholding
as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the
same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of
the Lord." And it must needs be so, for the Scripture of
ten teaches, that all true religion summarily consists in the
love of divine things. And therefore that kind of under
standing or knowledge, which is the proper foundation of
true religion, must be the knowledge of the loveliness of
divine things. For doubtless, that knowledge which is the
proper foundation of love, is the knowledge of loveliness.
What that beauty or loveliness of divine things is, which
is the proper and immediate object of a spiritual sense of
mind, was showed under the last head insisted on, viz.
That it is the beauty of their moral perfection. Therefore
it is in the view or sense of this, that spiritual understand
ing does more immediately and primarily consist. And
indeed it is plain it can be nothing else ; for, (as has been
shown,) there is nothing pertaining to divine things, be
sides the beauty of their moral excellency — and those pro
perties and qualities of divine things of which this beauty
is the foundation — but what natural men and devils can
see and know, and will know fully and clearly to all
eternity.

From what has been said, therefore, we come neces
sarily to this conclusion, that spiritual understanding con
sists in a cordial sense of the supreme beauty and sweetness
of the holiness or moral perfection of divine things, together
with all that discerning and knowledge of things of religion,
that depends upon and flows from such a sense.
Spiritual understanding consists primarily in a cordial
sense, or a sense of heart, of that spiritual beauty. I say,
a sense of heart ; for it is' not speculation merely that is
concerned in this kind of understanding : nor can there
be a clear distinction made between the two faculties of
understanding and will, as acting distinctly and separately,
in this matter. When the mind is sensible of the beauty
and amiableness of a thing, that implies a sensibleness of
delight in the presence of its idea : and this carries in the
very nature of it, the sense of the heart ; or an effect and
impression of the soul of a substance possessed of taste,
inclination, and will.
There is a distinction to be made between a mere no
tional understanding, wherein the mind only beholds things
in the exercise of a speculative faculty ; and the sense of
the heart, wherein the mind not onlv speculates and beholds,
but relishes and feels. That sort of knowledge, by which
a man has a sensible perception of amiableness and loath
someness, or of sweetness and nauseousness, is not the
same sort of knowledge with that, by which he knows
what a triangle or a square is. The one is mere specula
tive knowledge ; the other sensible knowledge, in which
more than the mere intellect is concerned. The heart is
the proper subject of it, or the soul, as a being that not
only beholds, but has inclination, and is pleased or dis
pleased. And yet there is the nature of instruction in it ;
as he that has perceived the sweet taste of honey, knows
much more about it,- than he who has only looked upon
and felt it.
The apostle seems to make a distinction between mere
speculative and spiritual knowledge, in calling the former
the form of knowledge, and of the truth ; Rom. ii. 20.
" Which hast the form of knowledge, and of the truth in
the law." The latter is often represented by relishing,
smelling, or tasting ; 2 Cor. ii. 14. " Now thanks be to
God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ Jesus,
and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge in every
place." Matt. xvi. 23. "Thou savourest not the things
that be of God, but those things that be of men." 1 Pet.
ii. 2, 3. " As new-born babes desire the sincere milk of
the word, that ye may grow thereby ; if so be ye have
tasted that the Lord is gracious." Cant. i. 3. " Because
of the savour of thy good ointments, thy name is as oint
ment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee :"
compared with 1 John ii. 20. " But ye have an unction
from the Holy One, and ye know all things."
Spiritual understanding primarily consists in this sense
or taste of the moral beauty of divine things ; so that no
knowledge can be called spiritual, any further than it
arises from, and has this in it. But secondarily, it includes
all that discerning and knowledge of religious things, which
depends upon and flows from such a sense. When the true
beauty and amiableness in divine things, is discovered to
the soul, it opens as it were a new world to its view. This
shows the glory of all God's perfections, and of every thing
appertaining to the Divine Being. For, as was observe-
before, the beauty of all arises from God's moral perfec
tion. This shows the glory of all God's works, both of crea
tion and providence. For it is their special glory, that
God's holiness, righteousness, faithfulness, and goodness,
are so manifested in them ; and without these moral per
fections, there would be no glory in that power and skill
with which they are wrought. The glorifying of God's
moral perfections, is the special end of all the works of
God's hands. By this sense of the moral beauty of divine
things, is known the sufficiency of Christ as a Mediator :
for it is only by the discovery of beauty in the moral per
fection of Christ, that the believer is let into the knowledge
of the excellency of his person, so as to know any thing
more of it than the devils do : and it is only by the know
ledge of the excellency of Christ's person, that any know
his sufficiency as a Mediator ; for the latter depends upon
and arises from the former. It is by seeing the excellency
of Christ's person, that the saints are made sensible ofthe

284

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

preciousness of his blood, and its sufficiency to atone for
sin : for therein consists the preciousness of Christ's blood,
that it is the blood of so excellent and amiable a person.
And on this depends the meritoriousness of his obedience,
the sufficiency and prevalence of his intercession. By this
sight of moral beauty, is seen the beauty of salvation by
Christ ; for that consists in the beauty of God's moral
perfections, which wonderfully shines forth in every step
of this method of salvation. By this is seen the fitness and
suitableness of this way ; which consists in its tendency
to deliver us from sin and hell, and to bring us to happi
ness. For true happiness consists in the possession and
enjoyment of moral good, in a way sweetly agreeing with
God s moral perfections. And in the way being so
contrived as to attain these ends, consists the excellent
wisdom of that way. By this is seen the excellency of the
word of God. Take away all the moral beauty and sweet
ness in the word, and the Bible is left wholly a dead letter,
a dry, lifeless, tasteless thing. By this is seen the true
foundation of our duty, the worthiness of God to be so
esteemed, honoured, loved, submitted to, and served, as
he requires of us, and the amiableness of the duties them
selves required. And by this is seen the true evil of sin :
for he who sees the beauty of holiness, must necessarily
see the hatefulness of sin, its contrary. By this men
understand the true glory of heaven, which consists in
the beauty and happiness contained in holiness. By this
is seen the amiableness and happiness of saints and angels.
He that sees the beauty of holiness, or true moral good,
sees the greatest and most important thing in the world,
which is the fulness of all things, without which all the
world is empty, yea, worse than nothing. Unless this is
seen, nothing is seen that is worth the seeing ; for there is
no other true excellency or beauty. ¦ Unless this be under
stood, nothing is understood worthy the exercise of the
noble faculty of understanding. This is the beauty of the
Godhead, the divinity of divinity, (if I may so speak,)
the good of the infinite fountain of good. Without this,
God himself (if that were possible) would be an infinite
evil, we ourselves had better never have been ; and there
had better have been no being. He therefore in effect
knows nothing, that knows not this ; his knowledge is
but the shadow of knowledge, or the form of knowledge,
as the apostle calls it. Well therefore may the Scripture
represent those who are destitute of that spiritual sense,
by which is perceived the beauty of holiness, as totally
blind, deaf, and senseless, yea, dead. And well may re
generation, in which this divine sense is given to the soul
by its Creator, be represented as opening the blind eyes,
raising the dead, and bringing a person into a new world.
For if what has been said be considered, it will be mani
fest, that when a person has this sense and knowledge
given him, he will view nothing as he did before ; though
before he knew all things " after the flesh, yet henceforth
he will know them so no more ; and he is become a new
creature, old things are passed away, behold all things are
become new," (2 Cor. v. 16, 17.)
Besides, there arises from this sense of spiritual beauty,
all true experimental knowledge of religion, which is of
itself as it were a new world of knowledge. He that sees
not the beauty of holiness, knows not what one of the
graces of God's Spirit is, he is destitute of any conception
of gracious exercises of soul, holy comforts and delights,
and effects of the saving influences of the Spirit of God
on the heart. He is ignorant of the greatest works of God,
the most important and glorious effects of his power upon
the creature ; he is wholly ignorant of the saints as saints,
and knows not what they are ; and in effect is wholly
ignorant of the spiritual world. Thus, it plainly appears,
that God implanting a spiritual, supernatural sense, makes
a great change in a man. And were it not for the very
* " Take heed of contenting yourselves with every kind of knowledge.
Do not worship every image of your own heads ; especially you that fall
short of truth, or the knowledge of it For when you have some, there may
be yet that wanting, which may make you sincere. There are many men
of great knowledge, able to teach themselves, and others too : and yet their
hearts are unsound. How comes this to pass ? Is it because they have so
much light ? No ; but because they want much. And therefore content
not yourselves with every knowledge. There is some knowledge which
men have by the light of nature, (which leaves them without excuse.) from
the book of creation ; some by power of education; some by the light of the
law, whereby men know their sin and evils ; some by the letter ofthe gos
pel ; and so men may know much, and speak well ; and so in seeing, see

imperfect degree in which this sense is commonly given
at first, or the small degree of this glorious light that first
dawns upon the soul ; the change made by this spiritual
opening of the eyes in conversion, would be much greater,
and more remarkable every way, than if a man born blind
should have the sense of seeing imparted to him at once,
in the midst of the clear light of the sun, discovering a
world of visible objects. For though sight be more noble
than any of the other external senses, yet this spiritual
sense is infinitely more noble, and the object infinitely
more important. — This is that knowledge of divine things
from whence all truly gracious affections proceed; by
which therefore all affections are to be tried. Those af
fections that arise wholly from any other kind of know
ledge, or do result from any other kind of apprehensions,
are vain.*
From what has been said may be learned, wherein the
most essential difference lies between that light or under
standing which is given by the common influences of the
Spirit of God, on the hearts of natural men, and that
saving instruction which is given to the saints. The latter
primarily and most essentially lies in beholding the holy
beauty of divine things ; which is the only true moral
good, and to which the soul of fallen man is by nature
totally blind. The former consists only in a further un
derstanding, through the assistance of natural principles,
of those things which men may know, in some measure,
by the ordinary exercise of their faculties ; it is only the
knowledge of those things pertaining to religion, which
are natural. Thus for instance, in awakenings and con
victions of conscience in natural men, the Spirit of God
gives no knowledge of true moral beauty, but only assists
the mind to a clearer idea of the guilt of sin, or its relation
to punishment, and its connexion with the evil of suffering,
(without any sight of its true moral evil, or odiousness as
sin,) and a clearer idea of the natural perfections of God,
wherein consists, not his holy beauty and glory, but his
awful and terrible greatness. It is a clear sight of this,
that will fully awaken the consciences of wicked men at
the day of judgment, without any spiritual light. And it
is a lesser degree of the same, that awakens the consciences
of natural men, without spiritual light, in this world. The
same discoveries are in some measure given in the con
science of an awakened sinner in this world, which will
be given more fully at the day of judgment. The same
kind of apprehension, in a lesser degree, makes awakened
sinners in this world sensible of the dreadful guilt of sin
against so great and terrible a God, and of its amazing
punishment — and fills them with fearful apprehensions of
divine wrath — that will thoroughly convince all wicked
men, of the infinitely dreadful nature and guilt of sin, and
astonish them with apprehensions of wrath, when Christ
shall come in the glory of his power and majesty, and
every eye shall see him, and all the kindreds of the earth
shall wail because of him. And in those common illu
minations which are sometimes given to natural men, ex
citing in them some kind of religious desire, love, and joy,
the mind is only assisted to a clearer apprehension of the
natural good that is in divine things. Thus sometimes,
under common illuminations, men are raised with the
ideas of the natural good that is in heaven ; as its outward
glory, its ease, its honour and advancement, being there
the objects of the high favour of God, and the great re
spect of men and angels, &c. So there are many things
exhibited in the gospel, concerning God and Christ, and
the way of salvation, that have a natural good in them,
which suits the natural principle of self-love. Thus in
that great goodness of God to sinners, and the wonderful
dying love of Christ, there is a natural good, which all
men love, as they love themselves ; as well as a spiritual
and holy beauty, which is seen only by the regenerate.
not : some by the Spirit, and may see much, so as to prophesy in Christ's
name, and yet bid depart. Matt. vii. Now there is a light of glory, whereby
the elect see things in another manner : to tell you how, they cannot : it is
the beginning of light in heaven : and the same Spirit that fills Christ, fill
ing their minds, that they know, by this anointing, all things : which if ever
you have you must become babes and fools in your own eyes. God will
never write his law in your minds, until all the scribblings of it are blotted
out. Account all your knowledge loss for tho gaining of this. It is sad to
see many a man pleasing himself in his own dreaming delusions ; yet the
poor creature in seeing, sees not: which is God's heavy curse upon men
under greatest means, and which lays all waste and desolate." Shepard's
Parable, Part I. p. 147. r

Sect. IV.

THEY ARISE FROM DIVINE ILLUMINATION.

285

Therefore there are many things appertaining to the word
of God's grace delivered in the gospel, which may cause
natural men, when they hear it, anon with joy to receive it.
All that love which natural men have to God and Christ,
Christian virtues, and good men, is not from any sight of
the amiableness, or true moral excellency of these things ;
but only for the sake of the natural good there is in them.
All natural men's hatred of sin, is as much from principles
of nature, as their hatred of a tiger for his rapaciousness,
or their aversion to a serpent for his poison and hurtful-
ness. Their love of Christian virtue, is from no higher
principle than their love of a man's good nature, which
appears amiable to natural men ; but no otherwise than
silver and gold appears amiable in the eyes of a merchant,
or than the blackness of the soil is beautiful in the eyes
of the farmer.
From what has been said it appears, that spiritual un
derstanding does not consist in any new doctrinal know
ledge, or in having suggested to the mind any new propo
sition, not before read or heard of : for it is plain, that this
suggesting of new propositions, is a thing entirely diverse
from giving the mind a new taste or relish of beauty and
sweetness*. It is also evident, that spiritual knowledge
does not consist in any new doctrinal explanation of any
fiart ofthe Scripture; for still, this is but doctrinal know-
edge, or the knowledge of propositions ; the doctrinal ex
plaining of any part of Scripture, is only giving us to un
derstand, what are the propositions contained or taught in
that part of Scripture.
Hence it appears, that the spiritual understanding of the
Scripture, does not consist in opening to the mind the mys
tical meaning of the Scripture, in its parables, types, and
allegories ; for this is only a doctrinal explication of the Scrip
ture. He that explains what is meant by the stony ground ;
and the seed springing up suddenly, and quickly wither
ing away, only explains what propositions or doctrines are
taught in it. So he that explains what is typified by Jacob's
ladder, and the angels of God ascending and descending on
it, or what was typified by Joshua's leading Israel through
Jordan, only shows what propositions are hid in these
passages. And many men can explain these types, who
have no spiritual knowledge. It is possible that a man
might know how to interpret all the types, parables, enig
mas, and allegories in the Bible, and not have one beam of
spiritual light in his mind ; because he may not have any
spiritual sense of the holy beauty of divine things, and may
see nothing of this kind of glory in any of these mysteries,
or any other part of the Scripture. It is plain, by what
the apostle says, that a man might understand all such
mysteries, and have no saving grace; 1 Cor. xiii. 2. "And
though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all
mysteries, and all knowledge, and have not charity, it pro-
fiteth me nothing." They therefore are very foolish, who
are exalted in an opinion of their own spiritual attainments,
from their notions of the mystical meaning of scripture
passages, as though it was a spiritual understanding, im
mediately given them by the Spirit of God. Their affec
tions may be highly raised ; but what has been said, shows
the vanity of such affections.
From what has been said, it is also evident, that it is not
spiritual knowledge, for persons to be informed of their
duty, by having it immediately suggested to their minds,
that such and such outward actions or deeds are the will of
God. If we suppose that it is truly God's manner thus
to signify his will to his people, by immediate, inward sug
gestions, such suggestions have nothing of the nature of
spiritual light. Such knowledge would only be doctrinal;
for a proposition concerning the will of God, is as properly
a doctrine of religion, as a proposition concerning the na
ture or a work of God. Having any proposition declared
to a man, either by speech, or inward suggestion, differs
vastly from having the holy beauty of divine things mani
fested to the soul, wherein spiritual knowledge most essen
tially consists. Thus there was no spiritual light in
Balaam ; though he had the will of God immediately sug-
* Calvin, in bis Institutions, Book I. chap. ix. § 1. says, " It is not the
office of the Spirit that is promised us, to make new and before unheard of
revelations, or to coin some new kind of doctrine, which tends to draw us
away from the received doctrine of the gospel ; but to seal and confirm to us
that very doctrine which is by the gospel." And in the same place he speaks

gested to him by the Spirit, concerning the way that he
should go, and what he should do and say.
It is manifest therefore, that being led and directed in
this manner, is not that holy and spiritual leading of the
Spirit of God, which is peculiar to the saints, and a distin
guishing mark of the sons of God, spoken of Rom. viii. 14.
" For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, are the sons
of God." Gal. v. 18. " But if ye be led by the Spirit, ye
are not under the law."
And if persons have the will of God concerning their
actions, suggested to them by some text of Scripture sud
denly brought to their minds — which text, as the words
lay in the Bible before they came to their minds, related to
the action and behaviour of some other person — it alters
not the case. The suggestion being accompanied with an
apt text of Scripture, does not make it to be of the nature
of spiritual instruction. For instance, suppose a person in
New England, on some occasion, were at a loss whether it
was his duty to go into some popish or heathenish land,
where he was like to be exposed to many difficulties and
dangers, and should pray to God that he would show him
the way of his duty ; and after earnest prayer, should have
those words which God spake to Jacob, Gen. xlvi. sud
denly and extraordinarily brought to his mind, as if they
were spoken to him ; " Fear not to go down into Egypt ;
and I will go with thee ; and I will also surely bring thee
up again." In which words, though as they lay in the
Bible before they came to his mind, they related only to
Jacob and his behaviour; yet he supposes that God has a
further meaning, as they were brought and applied to him ;
that by Egypt is to be understood this particular country
he has in his mind, and that the action intended is his
going thither, and the meaning of the promise is, that God
would bring him back into New England again. There is
nothing of the nature of a spiritual or gracious leading of
the Spirit in this ; for there is nothing of the nature of
spiritual understanding in it. Spiritually to understand the
Scripture, is rightly to understand what is in the Scripture,
and what was in it before it was understood : it is to un
derstand rightly, what used to be contained in the meaning
of it, and not the making a new meaning. When the mind
is enlightened spiritually and rightly to understand the
Scripture, it is enabled to see that which before was not
seen, by reason of blindness. But if it was by reason of
blindness, that is an evidence that the same meaning was
in it before, otherwise it would have been no blindness not
to see it : it is no blindness not to see a meaning which is
not there. Spiritually enlightening the eyes to understand
the Scripture, is to open the eyes, Psal. cxix. 18. " Open
thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of
thy law;" which argues, that the reason why the same
was not seen in the Scripture before, was, that the eyes
were shut ; which would not be the case, if the meaning
now understood was not there before, but is now newly
added to the Scripture by the manner of the Scripture
coming to the mind. This making of a new meaning to the
Scripture, is the same thing as making a new scripture : it
is properly adding to the word, which is threatened with so
dreadful a curse. Spiritually to understand the Scripture,
is to have the eyes of the mind opened to behold the won
derful, spiritual excellency of the glorious things contained
in the true meaning of it, and that always were contained
in it, ever since it was written ; to behold the amiable and
bright manifestations of the divine perfections, the excel
lency and sufficiency of Christ, the suitableness of the way
of salvation by him, and the spiritual glory of the precepts
and promises of the Scripture, &c. These things are, and
always were in the Bible, and would have been seen be
fore, if it had not been for blindness, without having any
new sense added.
And as to a gracious leading of the Spirit, it consists in
two things ; partly in instructing a person in his duty by
the Spirit, and partly in powerfully inducing him to com
ply with that instruction. But so far as the gracious lead
ing of the Spirit lies in instruction, it consists in a person's
of some, that in those days maintained the contrary notion, pretending to be
immediately led by the Spirit, as persons that were governed by a most
haughty self-conceit ; and not so properly to be looked upon as only labour
ing under a mistake, as driven by a sort of raving madness.

286

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

being guided by a spiritual and distinguishing taste of that
which has in it true moral beauty. I have shown that
spiritual knowledge primarily consists in a taste or relish
ofthe amiableness and beauty of that which is truly good
and holv : this holy relish discerns and distinguishes be
tween good and evil, between holy and unholy, without
being at the trouble of a train of reasoning. As he who
has a true relish of external beauty, knows what is beauti
ful by looking upon it; he stands in no need of a train of
reasoning about the proportion of the features, in order to
determine whether that which he sees be a beautiful coun
tenance or no ; he needs nothing, but only the glance of his
eye. He who has a rectified musical ear, knows whether
the sound he hears be true harmony ; he does not need
first t" be at the trouble of the reasonings of a mathemati
cian, about the proportion of the notes. He that has a
rectified palate, knows what is good food, as soon as he
tastes it, without the reasoning of a physician about it.
There is a holy beauty and sweetness in words and actions,
as well as a natural beauty in countenances and sounds,
and sweetness in food; Job xii. 11. " Doth not the ear
try words, and the mouth taste his meat?" When a holy
and amiable action is suggested to the thoughts of a holy
soul ; that soul, if in the lively exercise of its spiritual taste,
at once sees a beauty in it, and so inclines to it, and closes
with it. On the contrary, if an unworthy, unholv action
be suggested, its sanctified eye sees no beauty in it, and is
not pleased with it ; its sanctified taste relishes no sweet
ness in it, but on the contrary, it is nauseous. Yea, its
holy taste and appetite leads it to think of that which is
truly lovely, and naturally suggests it ; as a healthy taste
and appetite naturally suggests the idea of its proper
object. Thus a holy person is led by the Spirit, as he is
instructed and led by his holy taste, and disposition of
heart ; whereby, in the lively exercise of grace, he easily
distinguishes good and evil, and knows at once what is a
suitable, amiable behaviour towards God, and towards
man, in this case and the other ; and judges what is right,
as it were spontaneously, without a particular deduction,
by any other arguments than the beauty that is seen, and
goodness that is tasted. Thus Christ blames the Phari
sees, that they did not, even of their ownselves, judge what
was riglit, without needing miracles to prove it, Luke xii.
57. The apostle seems plainly to have respect to this way
of judging of spiritual beauty, in Rom. xii. 2. " Be ye
transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may
prove what is that good, and perfect, and acceptable will
of God."
There is such a thing as good taste of natural beauty,
(of which learned men often speak,) exercised about
temporal things, in judging of them ; as about the just
ness of a speech, the goodness of style, the beauty of a
poem, the gracefulness of deportment, &c. A late great
philosopher of our nation, writes thus upon it ;* " To
have a taste, is to give things their real value, to be touch
ed with the good, to be shocked with the ill ; not to be
dazzled with false lustres, but in spite of all colours, and
every thing that might deceive or amuse, to judge soundly.
Taste and judgment then, should be the same thing ; and
yet it is easy to discern a difference. The judgment forms
its opinions from reflection : the reason oh this occasion
fetches a kind of circuit, to arrive at its end ; it supposes
principles, it draws consequences, and it judges ; but not
without a thorough knowledge of the case ; so that after it
has pronounced, it is ready to render a reason of its de
crees. Good taste observes none of these formalities ; ere
it has time to consult, it has taken its side ; as soon as
ever the object is presented if, the impression is made, the
sentiment formed, ask no more of it. As the ear is
wounded with a harsh sound, as the smell is soothed with
an agreeable odour, before ever the reason have meddled
with those objects to judge of them, so the taste opens it
self at once, and prevents all reflection. They may come
afterwards to confirm it, and discover the secret reasons of
its conduct; but it was not in its power to wait for them.
Frequently it happens not to know them at all, and what
pains soever it uses, cannot discover what it was deter
mined it to think as it did. This conduct is very different
* Chambers's Dictionary, under the word TASTE.

from that the judgment observes in its decisions : unless we
choose to say, that good taste is as it were a first motion,
or a kind of instinct of right reason, which hurries on with
rapidity, and conducts more securely, than all the reason
ings she could make ; it is a first glance of the eye, which
discovers to us the nature and relations of things in a mo
ment." Now as there is a taste of the mind, whereby persons
are guided in their judgment concerning the natural
beauty, gracefulness, propriety, nobleness, and sublimity of
speeches and actions — whereby they judge as it were by
the glance of the eye, or by inward sensation, and the first
impression of the object — so there is likewise a divine
taste, given and maintained by the Spirit of God, in the
hearts of the saints, whereby they are in like manner led
and guided in discerning and distinguishing the true
spiritual and holy beauty of actions ; and that more easily,
readily, and accurately, as they have more or less of the
Spirit of God dwelling in them. And thus the sons of
God are led by the Spirit of God, in their behaviour in the
world. A holy disposition and spiritual taste, where grace is
strong and lively, will enable a soul to determine what
actions are right and becoming Christians, not only more
speedily, but far more exactly, than the greatest abilities
without it. This may be illustrated by the manner in
which some habits of mind, and dispositions of heart, of
a nature inferior to true grace, will teach and guide a man
in his actions. As for instance, if a man be a very good
natured man, his good nature will teach him better how to
act benevolently amongst mankind, and will direct him, on
every occasion, to those speeches and actions, which are
agreeable to rules of goodness, than the strongest reason
will a man of a morose temper. So if a man's heart be
under the influence of an entire friendship, and most en
deared affection to another ; though he be a man of an
indifferent capacity, yet this habit of his mind will direct
him, far more readily and exactly, to a speech and deport
ment, or manner of behaviour, which shall in all respects
be sweet and kind, and agreeable to a benevolent dispo
sition of heart, than the greatest capacity without it. He
has as it were a spirit within that guides him ; the habit of
his mind is attended with a taste, by which he immediately
relishes that air and mien which is benevolent, and dis
relishes the contrary. It causes him to distinguish between
the one and the other in a moment, more precisely, than the
most accurate reasonings can find out in many hours. The
nature and inward tendency of a heavy body that is let
fall from a height, shows the way to the centre of the earth
more exactly in an instant, than the ablest mathematician
without it could determine, by his most accurate observa
tions, in a whole day. Thus it is that a spiritual disposition
and taste teaches and guides a man in his behaviour in the
world. So an eminently humble, or meek, or charitable
disposition, will direct a person of mean capacity to such
a behaviour, as is agreeable to christian rules of humility,
meekness, and charity, far more readily and precisely, than
the most diligent study, and elaborate reasonings, of a
man of the strongest faculties, who has not a christian
spirit within him. So also will a spirit of love to God,
holy fear and reverence towards God, and filial confidence
in him, and a heavenly disposition, teach and guide a man
in his behaviour.
It is an exceeding difficult thing for a wicked man,
destitute of christian principles in his heart to guide him,
to know how to demean himself like a Christian, with the
life, beauty, and heavenly sweetness of a truly holy,
humble, Christ-like behaviour. He knows not how to put
on these garments ; neither do they fit him ; Eccl. x. 2, 3.
" A wise man's heart is at his right hand ; but a fool's
heart is at his left. Yea also, when he that is a fool walk-
eth by the way, his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to
every one that he is a fool ;" with verse 15. " The labour
of the foolish wearieth every one of them, because he
knoweth not how to go to the city." Prov. x. 32. " The
lips of the righteous know what is acceptable." Chap. xv.
2. " The tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright- but
the mouth of fools poureth out foolishness/' And chap

Sect. IV.

THEY ARISE FROM DIVINE ILLUMINATION.

287

xvi. 23. " The heart of the righteous teacheth his mouth,
and addeth learning to his lips."
The saints in thus judging of actions by a spiritual
taste, have not a particular recourse to the express rules of
God's word, with respect to every word and action that is
before them : but yet their taste itself in general, is subject
to the rule of God's word, and must be tried by that, and
a right reasoning upon it. A man of a rectified palate
judges of particular morsels by his taste ; but yet his palate
itself must be judged of, whether it be right or no, by cer
tain rules and reasons. But a spiritual taste mightily helps
the soul in its reasonings on the word of God, and in
judging of the true meaning of its rules ; as it removes
the prejudices of a depraved appetite, naturally leads the
thoughts in the right channel, casts a light on the word,
and causes the true meaning most naturally to come to
mind, through the harmony there is between the disposition
and relish of a sanctified soul, and the true meaning of
the rules of God's word. Yea, this harmony tends to
bring the texts themselves to mind on proper occasions ;
as the particular state of the stomach and palate, tends to
bring such particular meats and drinks to mind, as are
agreeable to that state. Thus the. children of God are led
by the Spirit of God in judging of actions themselves, and
in their meditations upon the rules of God's holy word :
and so God teaches them his statutes, and causes them to
understand the way of his precepts ; which the psalmist so
often prays for.
But this leading of the Spirit is exceedingly diverse
from what some call so ; which consists, according to them
—not in teaching them God's statutes and precepts already
given, but — in giving them new precepts, by immediate
inward speech or suggestion. They do not determine what
is the wiil of God by any taste, relish, or judgment of the
nature of things, but by an immediate dictate concerning
the thing to be done ; indeed there is no such thing as any
judgment or wisdom in the case. Whereas in that lead
ing of the Spirit which is peculiar to God's children, there
is imparted that true wisdom, and holy discretion, so often
spoken of in the word of God ; which is high above the
other way, as the stars are higher than. a glow-worm ; and
that which Balaam and Saul (who sometimes were led by
the Spirit in that other way) never had, and no natural
man can have, without a change of nature.
What has been said of the nature of spiritual under
standing, as consisting most essentially in a supernatural
sense and relish of the heart, not only shows that there is
nothing of it in this falsely supposed leading if the Spirit ;
but also shows the difference between spiritual understand
ing, and all kinds and forms of enthusiasm, all imaginary
sights of God, and Christ, and heaven ; all supposed wit
nessing of the Spirit and testimonies of the love of God by
immediate inward suggestion ; all impressions of future
events, and immediate revelations of any secret facts what
soever. Hereby we see how different is true spiritual re
ligion, and all enthusiastical impressions and applications
of Scripture, as though they were words now immediately
spoken by God to a particular person, in a new meaning,
and carrying something more in them, than the words
contain as they lie in the Bible ; and all interpretations of
the mystical meaning of the Scripture, by supposed imme
diate revelation. None of these things consist in a divine
sense and relish of the heart, of the holy beauty and ex
cellency of divine things ; nor have they any thing to do
with such a sense ; but all consist in impressions in the
head ; all are to be referred to the head of impressions on
the imagination, and consist in exciting external ideas in
the mind, either of outward shapes and colours, or words
spoken, or letters written, or ideas of things external and
sensible, belonging to actions done, or events accomplished
or to be accomplished. An enthusiastical supposed mani
festation of the love of God, is made by exciting an idea
of a smiling countenance, or some other pleasant outward
appearance, or by the idea of pleasant words spoken, or
written, excited in the imagination, or some pleasant
bodily sensation. So when persons have an imaginary
* Such as the Anabaptists, Antinomians, and Famiiists, the followers of
N. Stork, Th. Muncer, Jo. Becold, Henry P leifer, David George, Casper
Swenckfield, Henry Nicolas, Johannes Agricola Eislebius; and the many
wild enthusiasts that were in England in the days of Oliver Cromwell ; and
tho followers of Mrs. Hutchinson, in New England ; as appears by the par-

revelation of some secret fact, it is by exciting external
ideas ; either of some words, implying a declaration of
that fact, or some visible or sensible circumstances of such
a fact. So the supposed leading of the Spirit, to do the
will of God, in outward behaviour, is either by exciting
the idea of words (which are outward things) in their
minds, either the words of Scripture, or other words, which
they look upon as an immediate command of God ; or
else by exciting and impressing strongly the ideas of the.
outward actions themselves. So when an interpretation
of a scripture type or allegory is immediately, in an extra
ordinary way, strongly suggested, it is by suggesting words,
as though one secretly whispered and told the meaning ;
or by exciting other ideas in the imagination.
Such sort of experiences and discoveries as these com
monly raise the affections of such as are deluded by them,
to a great height, and make a mighty uproar in both soul
and body. And a very great part of the false religion that
has been in the world, from one age to another, consists in
such discoveries as these, and in the affections that flow
from them. In such things consisted the experiences of
the ancient Pythagoreans among the heathen, and many
others among them, who had strange ecstasies and raptures,
and pretended to a divine afflatus, and immediate revela
tions from heaven. In such things as these seem to have
consisted the experiences of the Essenes, an ancient sect
among the Jews, at and after the times of the apostles. In
such things consisted the experiences of many of the
ancient Gnostics, the Montanists, and many other sects of
ancient heretics, in the primitive ages of the christian
church. And in such things as these consisted the pre
tended immediate converse with God and Christ, saints
and angels, of the Monks, Anchorites, and Recluses, that
formerly abounded in the church of Rome. In such things
consisted the pretended high experiences and great spi
rituality of many sects of enthusiasts, that swarmed in the
world after the reformation* And in these things seems to
lie the religion of the many kinds of enthusiasts of the
present day. It is by such sort of religion as this chiefly
that Satan transforms himself into an angel of light : and
it is that which he has ever most successfully employed to
confound hopeful and happy revivals of religion, from the
beginning of the christian church to this day. When the
Spirit of God is poured out to begin a glorious work, then
the old serpent, as fast as possible, and by all means, in
troduces this bastard religion, and mingles it with the
true ; which has from time to time soon brought all things
into confusion. The pernicious consequence of it is not
easily imagined, until we see and are amazed with the
awful effects of it, and the dismal desolation it has made.
If the revival of true religion be very great in its beginning,
yet if this bastard comes in, there is danger of its doing as
Gideon's bastard Ahimelech did, who never left until he
had slain all his threescore and ten true-born sons, except
ing one that was forced to flee. Great and strict therefore
should be the watch and guard that ministers maintain
against such things, especially at a time of great awaken
ing : for men, especially the common people, are easily
bewitched with such things ; they having such a glaring
and glistering show of high religion. The devil hiding his
own shape, and appearing as an angel of light, men may
not be afraid of him.
The imagination, or phantasy, seems to be that wherein
are formed all these delusions of Satan, false religion, and
counterfeit graces and affections. Here is the devil's
grand lurking-place, the very nest of foul and delusive
spirits. It is very much to be doubted, whether the devil
can come at the soul of man to affect it, or to produce any
effect whatsoever in it, any other way, than by the phan
tasy; that power of the soul by which it receives, and is
the subject of the species, or ideas of outward and sensible
things. As to the laws and means which the Creator has
established, for the intercourse and communication of un
bodied spirits, we know nothing about them ; we do not
know by what medium they manifest their thoughts to, or
excite thoughts in, each other. But as to spirits united to
ticular and large accounts given of all these sects, by that eminently holy
man, Mr. Samuel Rutherford, in his Display of the Spiritual Antichrist.
And in such things as these consisted the experiences of the late French
prophets, and their followers.

288

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Part III.

bodies, those bodies are their medium of communication.
They have no other medium of acting on other creatures,
or being acted on by them, than the body. Therefore it is
not to be supposed that Satan can excite any thought, or
E reduce any effect in the soul of man, any otherwise, than
y some motion of the animal spirits, or by causing some
motion or alteration in something which appertains to the
body. There is this reason to think that the devil cannot
produce thoughts in the soul any other way than by the
medium of the body, viz. that he cannot immediately
know the thoughts of the soul. This is abundantly de
clared in the Scripture, to be peculiar to the omniscient
God. But it is not likely that the devil can immediately
produce an effect, which is out of the reach of his immediate
view. It seems unreasonable to suppose, that his imme
diate agency should be out of his own sight, or that it
should be impossible for him to see what he himself im
mediately does. Is it not unreasonable to suppose, that
any intelligent agent should by the act of his will produce
effects, according to his understanding, or agreeable to his
own thoughts, and that immediately, and yet the effects
produced be beyond the reach of his understanding, or
where he can have no immediate perception ? But if the
devil cannot produce thoughts in the soul immediately, or
any other way than by the animal spirits, or by the body,
then it follows, that he never brings to pass any thing in
the soul, but by the imagination or phantasy, or by excit
ing external ideas. For we know that alterations in the
body do immediately excite no other sort of ideas in the
mind, but external ones, or those of the outward senses.
As to reflection, abstraction, reasoning, &c. and those
thoughts and inward motions which are the fruits of these
acts of the mind, they are not the nearest effects of im
pressions on the body. So that it must be only by the
imagination that Satan has access to the soul, to tempt and
delude it, or suggest any thing to it.* And this seems to
be the reason why persons that are under the disease of
melancholy, are commonly so visibly and remarkably sub
ject to the suggestions and temptations of Satan ; that
being a disease which peculiarly affects the animal spirits,
and is attended with weakness of that part of the body
which is their fountain, even the brain, which is, as it were,
the seat of the phantasy. It is by impressions made on
the brain, that any ideas are excited in the mind, by the
motion of the animal spirits, or any changes made in the
body. The brain being thus weakened and diseased, it is
less under the command of the higher faculties of the soul,
and yields the more easily to extrinsic impressions, and is
overpowered by the disordered motions of the animal
spirits ; and so the deyil has greater advantage to affect the
mind, by working on the imagination. And thus Satan,
when he casts in those horrid suggestions into the minds
of many melancholy persons, in which they have no hand
themselves, does it by exciting imaginary ideas, either of
some dreadful words or sentences, or other horrid outward
ideas. And when he tempts other persons who are not
melancholy, he does it by presenting to the imagination, in
a lively and alluring manner, the objects of their lusts, or
by exciting ideas of words, and so by them exciting
thoughts ; or by promoting an imagination of outward
actions, events, circumstances, &c. Innumerable are the
ways by which the mind might be led on to all kind of
evii thoughts, by exciting external ideas in the imagination.
If persons keep no guard at these avenues of Satan, by
which he has access to the soul to tempt and delude it,
they will be likely to have enough of him. And especially,
if instead of guarding against him, they lay themselves
open to him, and seek and invite him, because he appears
as an angel of light, and counterfeits the illuminations and
* " The imagination is that room of the soul, wherein the devil doth
often appear. Indeed (to speak exactly) the devil hath no efficient power
over the rational part of a man : he cannot change the will, he cannot alter
the heart of a man. So that the utmost he can do, in tempting a man to
sin, is by suasion and suggestion only. But then how doth the devil do this ?
Even by working upon me imagination. He observeth the temper and
bodily constitution of a man ; and thereupon suggests to his fancy, and in
jects his fiery darts thereinto, by which the mind and will come to be
wrought upon. The devil then, thoughhe hath no imperious efficacy over
thy will, yet because he can thus stir and move thy imagination, and thou
being naturally destitute of grace, canst not withstand these suggestions ;
hence it is that any sin in thy imagination, though but in the outward works
of the soul, yet doth quickly lay hold on all. And indeed, by this means
do arise those horrible delusions, that are in many erroneous ways of reli
gion : all is because their imaginations are corrupted. Yea, how often are

graces of the Spirit of God, by inward whispers, and im
mediate suggestions of facts and events, pleasant voices,
beautiful images, and other impressions on the imagination.
There are many who are deluded by such things, are lifted
up with them, and seek after them. They have a con
tinued course of them, and can have them almost when
they will ; and especially when their pride and vain-glory
has most occasion for them, to make a show of them before
company, it is with them, something as it is with those
who are professors of the art of telling where lost things
are to be found, by impressions made on their imagina
tions ; they laying themselves open to the devil, he is
always at hand to give them the desired impression.
Before I finish what I would say on this head of imagi
nations, counterfeiting spiritual light, and affections arising
from them, I would renewedly (to prevent misunderstand
ing of what has been said) desire it may be observed, that
I am far from determining, that no affections are spiritual
which are attended with imaginary ideas. Such is the
nature of man, that he can scarcely think of any thing in
tensely, without some kind of outward ideas. They arise
and interpose themselves unavoidably, in the course of a
man's thoughts ; though oftentimes they are very confused,
and are not what the mind regards. When the mind is
much engaged, and the thoughts intense, oftentimes the
imagination is more strong, and the outward idea more
lively, especially in persons of some constitutions of body.
But there is a great difference between these two things,
viz. lively imaginations arising from strong affections, and
strong affections arising from lively imaginations. The
former may be, and doubtless often is, in case of truly
gracious affections. The affections do not arise from the
imagination, nor have any dependence upon it ; but on
the contrary, the imagination is only the accidental effect,
or consequent of the affection, through the infirmity of
human nature. But when the latter is the case, as it often
is, that the affection arises from the imagination, and is
built upon it as its foundation, instead of a spiritual illu
mination or discovery, then is the affection, however ele
vated, worthless and vain. And this is the drift of what
has been now said, of impressions on the imagination.
Having observed this, I proceed to another mark of gra
cious affections.

SECT. V.
Truly gracious affections are attended with a conviction of
the reality and certainty of divine things.
This seems to be implied in the text that was laid as the
foundation of this discourse, Whom having not seen, ye
love ; in whom though now ye see him not, yet believing,
ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory. All
gracious persons have a solid, full, thoi'oughj and effectual
conviction of the truth of the great things of the gospel.
They no longer halt between two opinions ; the great doc
trines of the gospel cease to be any longer doubtful things,
or matters of opinion, which, though probable, are yet dis
putable ; but with them, they are points settled and de
termined, as undoubted and indisputable ; so that they
are not afraid to venture their all upon their truth. Their
conviction is an effectual conviction ; so that the great,
spiritual, mysterious, and invisible things of the gospel,
have the influence of real and certain things upon them ;
they have the weight and power of real things in their
hearts ; and accordingly rule in their affections, and govern
them through the course of their lives. With respect to
Christ's being the Son of God, and Saviour of the world,
these diabolical delusions of the imagination taken for the gracious opera
tions of God's Spirit !— It is from hence that many have pretended to en
thusiasms —they leave the Scriptures, and wholly attend to what they per
ceive and feel within them." Burgess On Original Sin, p. 369.
The great Turretine, speaking on that question, What is the power of
angels f says, " As to bodies there is no doubt, but that they can do a great
deal upon all sorts of elementary and sublunary bodies, to move them
locally, and variously to agitate them. It is also certain, that they can act
upon the external and internal senses, to excite them, or to hind them. But
as to the rational soul itself, they can do nothing immediately upon that;
for to God alone, who knows and searches the hearts, and who has them in
his hands, does it also appertain to bow and move them whithersoever he
will. But angels can act upon the rational soul, only rnediatelv, bv imagi
nations." Theolog. Elench. Loc. VII. Quest. 7.

Sect. V.

THEY ARE ATTENDED WITH A CONVICTION OF CERTAINTY.

289

and the great things he has revealed concerning himself,
and his Father, and another world, they have not only a
predominating opinion that these things are true, and so
yield their assent, as they do in many other matters of
doubtful speculation ; but they see that it is really so :
their eyes are opened, so that they see that really Jesus is
the Christ, the Son of the living God. And as to the
things which Christ has revealed, of God's eternal pur
poses and designs, concerning fallen man, and the glorious
and everlasting things prepared for tbe saints in another
world, they see that they are so indeed : and therefore
these things are of great weight with them, and have a
mighty power upon their hearts, and influence over their
practice, in some measure answerable to their infinite im
portance. That all true Christians have such a kind of conviction,
is abundantly manifest from the Holy Scriptures. I will
mention a few places out of many : Matt. xvi. 15 — 17.
" But whom say ye that I am ? Simon Peter answered
and said, Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God. And
Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou,
Simon Barjona : — my Father which is in heaven hath re
vealed it unto thee." John vi. 68, 69. " Thou hast the
words of eternal life. And we believe, and are sure that
thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God." John
xvii. 6 — 8. " I have manifested thy name unto the men
which thou gavest me out of the world. — Now they have
known that all things whatsoever thou hast given me, are
of thee. For I have given unto them the words which
thou gavest me ; and they have received them, and have
known surely that I came out from thee, and they have
believed that thou didst send me." Acts viii. 37. " If
thou believest with all thy heart thou mayest." 2 Cor.
iv. 11—14. " We which live, are always delivered unto
death for Jesus' sake. — Death worketh in us. — We having
the spirit of faith, according as it is written, I believed and
therefore have I spoken : we also believe, and therefore
speak ; knowing, that he which raised up the Lord Jesus,
shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with
you." Together with verse 16. " For which cause we
faint not." And verse 18. " While we look not at the
things which are seen," &c. And chap. v. 1. " For we
know, that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dis
solved, we have a building of God." — And ver. 6 — 8.
" Therefore we are always confident, knowing that whilst
we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord :
for we walk by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I
say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and
present with the Lord. 2 Tim. i. 12. " For the which
cause I also suffer these things ; nevertheless I am not
ashamed : for I know whom I have believed, and I am
persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have com
mitted unto him against that day." Heb. iii. 6. " Whose
house are we, if we hold fast the confidence, and the re
joicing of the hope firm unto the end." Heb. xi. 1. " Now
faith is the substance of things hoped for, and the evi
dence of things not seen :" together with that whole chap
ter. 1 John iv. 13 — 16. " Hereby know we that we dwell
in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his
Spirit. And we have seen and do testify, that the Father
sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. Whosoever
shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth
in him, and he in God. And we have known and be
lieved the love that God hath to us." Chap. v. 4, 5.
" For whatsoever is born of God, overcometh the world :
and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even
our faith. Who is he that overcometh the world, but he
that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God ?" Therefore
truly gracious affections are attended with a conviction
and persuasion of the truth of gospel declarations, and a
sight of their evidence and reality.
There are many religious affections, which are not at
tended with such a conviction of the judgment. Many
apprehensions and ideas which some call divine discoveries,
are affecting, but not convincing. Though for a little
while, they may seem to be more persuaded of the truth
of religion, than they used to be, and may yield a forward
assent, like many of Christ's hearers who believed for a
while ; vet they have no thorough and effectual convic
tion. There is no great abiding change in them in this
vol. I. u

respect, that whereas formerly they did not realize the
great things of the gospel, now these things, with regard
to reality and certainty, appear new to them, and they be
hold them quite in another view than they used to do.
There are many persons who have been exceedingly raised
with religious affections, and think they have been con
verted, but they do not seem any more convinced of the
truth of the gospel, than they used to be; or at least,
there is no remarkable alteration. They do not live under
the influence and power of a realizing conviction of the
infinite and eternal things which the gospel reveals ; if
they were, it would be impossible for them to live as they
do. Because their affections are not attended with a
thorough conviction of the mind, they are not at all to be
depended on ; however great a show and noise they make,
it is like the blaze of tow, or crackling of thorns, or like
the forward flourishing blade on stony ground, that has no
root, nor deepness of earth, to maintain its life.
Some persons, under high affections and a confident
persuasion of their good estate, have what they very igno
rantly call seeing the truth ofthe word of God, but which
is very far from it. They have some text of Scripture
coming to their minds, in a sudden and extraordinary
manner, immediately declaring unto them (as they sup
pose) that their sins are forgiven, or that God loves them,
and will save them ; and it may be have a chain of scrip
tures coming one after another, to the same purpose ; and
they are convinced that it is truth ; i. e. they are confident
that it is certainly so, that their sins are forgiven, and God
does love them, &c. — they say they know it is so ; and
when the words of Scripture are suggested to them, and as
they suppose immediately spoken to them by God, in this
meaning, they are ready to cry out, Truth, truth ! it is
certainly so ! the word of God is true ! And this they
call " seeing the truth of the word of God." Whereas
the whole of their faith amounts to no more, than only a
strong confidence of their own good estate, and so a con
fidence that those words are true, which they suppose tell
them they are in a good estate : when indeed (as was
shown before) there is no scripture which declares that
any person is in a good estate directly, or any other way
than by consequence. So that this, instead of being a
real sight of the truth of the word of God, is a sight of
nothing but a phantom, and is all over a delusion. Truly
to see the truth of the word of God, is to see the truth of
the gospel ; which is the glorious doctrine the word of
God contains, concerning God, Jesus Christ, the way of
salvation by him, and the world of glory that he is en
tered into, and purchased for all them who believe ; and
not a revelation that such and such particular persons are
true Christians, and shall go to heaven. Therefore those
affections which arise from no other persuasion of the
truth of the word of God than this, arise from delusion,
and not true conviction ; and consequently are themselves
delusive and vain.
But suppose the religious affections of persons indeed
arise from a strong persuasion of the truth of the christian
religion ; their affections are not the better, unless it be a
reasonable persuasion or conviction. By a reasonable con
viction, I mean a conviction founded on real evidence, or
upon that which is a good reason, or just ground of con
viction. Men may have a strong persuasion that the
christian religion is true, when their persuasion is not at
all built on evidence, but altogether on education, and the
opinion of others ; as many Mahometans are strongly per
suaded of the truth of the Mahometan religion, because
their fathers, and neighbours, and nation believe it. That
belief of the truth of the christian religion, which is built
on the very same grounds with that of Mahometans who
believe in the Mahometan religion, is the same sort of be
lief. And though the thing believed happens to be better ;
yet that does not make the belief itself to be of a better
sort, for though the thing believed happens to be true,
yet the belief of it is not owing to this truth, but to educa
tion. So that as the conviction is no better than the Ma
hometans' conviction ; so the affections that flow from it,
are no better, in themselves, than the religious affections of
Mahometans. But suppose the belief of christian doctrines be not
merely from education, but indeed from reasons and argu-

290

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Part III.

ments, it will not from thence necessarily follow, that
their affections are truly gracious : for in order to that, it
is requisite, not only that the belief which their affections
arise from, should be a reasonable, but also a spiritual be
lief, or conviction. I suppose none will doubt but that
some natural men yield a kind of assent of their judg
ments to the truth of the christian religion, from the ra
tional proofs or arguments that are offered to evince it.
Judas, without doubt, thought Jesus to be the Messiah,
from the things which he saw and heard ; but yet all along
was a devil. So in John ii. 23 — 25. we read of " many
that believed in Christ's name, when they saw the mira
cles that he did ;" whom yet Christ knew had not that
within them, which was to be depended on. So Simon
the sorcerer believed, when he beheld the miracles and
signs which were done ; but yet remained " in the gall of
bitterness, and bond of iniquity," Acts viii. 13, 23. And
if there is such a belief or assent of the judgment in some
natural men, none can doubt but that religious affections
may arise from that assent or belief; as we read of some
who believed for a while that were greatiy affected, and
anon with joy received the word.
It is evident that there is a spiritual conviction of the
truth, or a belief peculiar to those who are spiritual, who
are regenerated, and who have the Spirit of God, in his
holy communications, dwelling in them as a vital princi
ple. So that their conviction does not only differ from that
which natural men have, in that it is accompanied with
good works ; but the belief itself is diverse, the assent and
conviction of the judgment is of a kind peculiar to those who
are spiritual, and of which natural men are wholly desti
tute. This is evident bv the Scripture, if any thing at all
is so : John xvii. 8. " They have believed that thou didst
send me." Tit. i. 1. "According to the faith of God's
elect, and the acknowledging of the truth which is after
godliness." John xvi. 27. " The Father himself loveth you,
because ye have loved me, and have believed that I came
out from God." 1 John iv. 15. "Whosoever shall con
fess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him,
and he in God." Chap. v. 1. " Whosoever believeth that
Jesus is the Christ, is born of God. Verse 10. He that
believeth on the Son of God, hath the witness in himself."
What a spiritual conviction of the judgment is, we are
naturally led to determine from what has been said already,
under the former head of a spiritual understanding. The
conviction of the judgment arises from the illumination of
the understanding : the passing of a right judgment on
things, depends on a right apprehension. And therefore it
follows, that a spiritual conviction of the truth of the great
things of the gospel, is such a conviction as arises from
having a spiritual apprehension of those things in the mind.
And this is also evident from the Scripture, which often
represents a saving belief of the reality and divinity of the
things proposed and exhibited to us in the gospel, as what
proceeds from the Spirit of God enlightening the mind.
Hence right apprehensions of the nature of those things ;
the Spirit as it were unveiling, or revealing them, and
enabling the mind to view them as they are. Luke x. 21,
22. " I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent,
and hast revealed them unto babes : even so, Father, for so
it seemed good in thy sight. All things are delivered unto
me of my Father : and no man knoweth who the Son is,
but the Father ; and who the Father is, but the Son, and
he to whom the Son will reveal him." John vi. 40. " And
this is the will of him that sent me, that every one which
seeth the Son, and believeth on him, may have everlasting
life." Where it is plain, that true faith arises from a
spiritual sight of Christ. And John xvii. 6 — 8. " I have
manifested thy name unto the men which thou gavest me
out of the world. — Now they have known that all things
whatsoever thou hast given me, are of thee. For I have
given unto them the words which thou gavest me ; and they
have received them, and have known surely that I came
out from thee, and they have believed that thou didst send
me." Christ's manifesting God's name to the disciples,
or giving them a true apprehension of divine things, was
that whereby they knew that Christ's doctrine was of God,
and that Christ himself was sent by him. Matt. xvi. 16,
17. " Simon Peter said, Thou art Christ, the Son of the

living God. And Jesus answered and said unto him,
Blessed art thou Simon Barjona : for flesh and blood hath
not revealed it unto thee, but my Fatherwhich is in heaven."
1 John v. 10. " He that believeth on the Son of God, hath
the witness in himself." Gal. i. 14 — 16. "Being more
exceedingly zealous of the traditions of my fathers. But
when it pleased God, who separated me from my mother's
womb, and called me by his grace, to reveal his Son in me,
that I might preach him among the heathen ; immediately
I conferred not with flesh and blood."
If tluit is a spiritual conviction of the divluityand reality
of the things exhibited in the gospel, which arises from a
spiritual understanding of those things ; I have shown al
ready what that is. In short, it consists in a sense and
taste of the divine, supreme, and holy excellency and
beauty of those things. So that then is the mind spiri
tually convinced of the divinity and truth of the great things
of the gospel, when that conviction arises, either directly
or remotely, from such a sense or view of their divine ex
cellency and glory as is there exhibited. This clearly fol
lows from what has been already said ; and for this the
Scripture is very plain and express : 2 Cor. iv. 3 — 6. "But
if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost : in
whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of
them that believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of
Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord ;
and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake. For God
who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath
shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of
the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ." Together
with the last verse of the foregoing chapter, which intro
duces this, " But we all with open face, beholding as in a
glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same
image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the
Lord." Nothing can be more evident, than that a saving
belief of the gospel is here spoken of by the apostle, as
arising from the mind being enlightened to behold the di
vine glory of the things it exhibits. This view or sense of
the divine glory, and unparalleled beauty of the things
exhibited to us in the gospel, has a tendency to convince
the mind of their divinity two ways ; first, directly, and
secondly, more indirectly and remotely.
I. A view of this divine glory directly convinces the
mind ofthe divinity of these things, as this glory is in itself
a direct, clear, and all-conquering evidence of it ; especially
when clearly discovered, or when this supernatural sense
is given in a good degree.
He that has his judgment thus directly convinced and
assured of the divinity of gospel truths by a clear view of
their divine glory, has a reasonable conviction. His assur
ance is altogether agreeable to reason ; because the divine
glory and beauty of divine things is in itself a real evidence
of their divinity, and the most direct and strong. He that
truly sees the divine, transcendent, supreme glory of those
things which are divine, does as it were know their di
vinity intuitively ; he not only argues, but sees that they
are divine. He sees that in them wherein divinity chiefly
consists ; for in this glory, which is so vastly and inex
pressibly distinguished from the glory of artificial things,
and all other glory, mainly consists the true notion of di
vinity. God is God, and distinguished from all other
beings, and exalted above them, chiefly by his divine
beauty, which is infinitely diverse from all other beauty.
They therefore that see the stamp of this glory in divine
things, they see divinity in them, they see God in them,
and see them to be divine ; because they see that in them
wherein the truest idea of divinity consists. Thus a soul
may have akind of intuitive knowledge of the divinity ofthe
things exhibited in the gospel ; not that he judges the doc
trines of the gospel to be from God, without any argument
or deduction at all ; but it is without any long chain of
arguments; the argument is but one, and the evidence di
rect ; the mind ascends to the truth of the gospel but by
one step, and that is its divine glory.
It would be very strange, if any professing Christian
should deny it to be possible, that there should be an ex
cellency in divine things, which is so transcendent, and
exceedingly different from what is in other things, that if it
were seen, would evidently distinguish them. We cannot

Sect. V.

THEY ARE ATTENDED WITH A CONVICTION OF CERTAINTY.

291

rationally doubt, but that things which are divine, that ap
pertain to the supreme Being, are vastly different from
things that are human. There is God-like, high, and glo
rious excellency in them, so distinguishing them from the
things which are of men, that the difference is ineffable;
and therefore such as if seen, will have a most convincing,
satisfying influence upon any one, that they are what they
are, viz. divine. Doubtless there is that glory and ex
cellency in the Divine Being, by which he is so infinitely
distinguished from all other beings, that if it were seen, he
might be known by it. It would therefore be very un
reasonable to deny, that it is possible for God to give
manifestations of this distinguishing excellency, in things
by which he is pleased to make himself known ; and that
this distinguishing excellency may be clearly seen in them.
There are natural excellencies that are very evidently dis
tinguishing ofthe subjects or authors, to any one who be
hold them. How vastly is the speech of an intelligent
man different from that of a little child ! And how greatly
distinguished is the speech of some men of great genius,
as Homer, Cicero, Milton, Locke, Addison, and others,
from that of many other intelligent men ! There are no
limits to be set to the degrees of manifestation of mental
excellency, that there may be in speech. But the appear
ances of the natural perfections of God, in the manifesta
tions he makes of himself, may doubtless be unspeakably
more evidently distinguishing, than the appearances of
those excellencies of worms of the dust, in which thev
differ one from another. He that is well acquainted with
mankind, and their works, by viewing the sun, may know
it is no human work. And it is reasonable to suppose,
that when Christ comes at the end of the world, in the
glory of his Father, it will be with such ineffable appear
ances of divinity, as will leave no doubt to the inhabitants
of the world, even the most obstinate infidels, that he who
appears is a divine person. But above all, do the mani
festations of the moral and spiritual glory of the Divine
Being (which is the prpper beauty of the divinity) bring
their own evidence, and tend to assure the heart. Thus
the disciples were assured that Jesus was the Son of God,
for " they beheld his glory, as the glory of the only begot
ten of the Father, full of grace and truth," John i. 14.
When Christ appeared in nis transfiguration to his dis
ciples, as an outward glory to their bodily eyes — which
was a sweet and admirable symbol and semblance of his
spiritual glory — together with his spiritual glory itself,
manifested to their minds ; the manifestation was such as
did perfectly, and with good reason, assure them of his
divinity ; as appears by what one of them says concerning
it, 2 Pet. i. 16 — 18. " For we have not followed cunningly
devised fables, when we made known unto you the power
and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eye-wit
nesses of his majesty : for he received from God the Father,
honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him
from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom
J am well pleased. And this voice which came from
heaven we heard, when we were with him in the holy
mount." The apostle calls that mount, the holy mount,
because the manifestations of Christ there made to their
minds, and with which they were especially impressed
and ravished, was the glory of his holiness, or the beauty of
his moral excellency : or, as another of these disciples, who
saw it, expresses it, " His glory, as full of grace and truth."
Now this distinguishing glory of the Divine Being has
its brightest manifestation in the things exhibited to us in
the gospel; the doctrines there taught, the word there
spoken, and the divine counsels, acts, and works there re
vealed. These things have the clearest, most admirable,
and distinguishing representations and exhibitions of the
glory of God's moral perfections, that ever were made to
the world. And if there be such a distinguishing, evi
dential manifestation of divine glory in the gospel, it is rea
sonable to suppose that there may be such a thing as seeing
it : what should hinder but that it may be seen ? It is no
argument that it cannot be seen, because some do not see
it ; though they may be discerning men in temporal mat
ters. If there be such ineffable, distinguishing, evidential
excellencies in the gospel, it is reasonable to suppose, that
they are such as are not to be discerned, but by the special
influence and enlightenings of the Spirit of God. There
u 2

is need of uncommon force of mind to discern the dis
tinguishing excellencies of the works of authors of great
genius. Those things in Milton, which to mean judges
appear tasteless and imperfections, are his inimitable ex
cellencies in the eyes of those who are of greater discern
ing, and better taste. And if there be a book of which
God is the author, it is most reasonable to suppose, that
the distinguishing glories of his word are of such a kind, as
that the sin and corruption of men's hearts — which above
all things alienate them from the Deity, and make the
heart dull and stupid to any sense or taste of those things
wherein the moral glory ofthe divine perfections consists — ¦
would blind them from discerning the beauties of such a
book ; and that therefore they will not see them, but as
God is pleased to enlighten them, and restore a holy taste,
to discern and relish divine beauties.
This sense of the spiritual excellency and beauty of
divine things, also tends directly to convince the mind of
the truth ofthe gospel. Very many of the most important
things declared in the gospel are hid from the eyes of
natural men, the truth of which in effect consists in this
excellency, or so immediately depends upon it, and results
from it, that in this excellency being seen, the truth of
those things is seen. As soon as ever the eyes are opened
to behold a holy beauty and amiableness in divine things,
a multitude of most important doctrines of the gospel that
depend upon it, (which all appear strange and dark to
natural men,) are at once seen to be true. As for instance,
hereby appears the truth of what the word of God declares
concerning the exceeding evil of sin ; for the same eye that
discerns the transcendent beauty of holiness, necessarily
therein sees the exceeding odiousness of sin : the same
taste which relishes the sweetness of true moral good,
tastes the bitterness of moral evil. And by this means a
man sees his own sinfulness and loathsomeness ; for he has
now a sense to discern objects of this nature ; and so sees
the truth of what the word of God declares concerning the
exceeding sinfulness of mankind, which before he did not
see. He now sees the dreadful pollution of his heart, and
the desperate depravity of his nature, in a new manner ;
for his soul has now a sense given it to feel the pain of
such a disease. This shows him the truth of what the
Scripture reveals concerning the corruption of man's na
ture, his original sin, his ruinous condition, his need of a
Saviour, and of the mighty power of God to renew his
heart, and change his nature. Men by seeing the true ex
cellency of holiness, see the glory of all those things which
both reason and Scripture show to be in the Divine
Being ; for it has been shown, that the glory of them de
pends on this. And hereby they see the truth of all that
the Scripture declares concerning God's glorious excel
lency and majesty, his being the fountain of all good, the
only happiness ofthe creature, &c. This again shows the
mind the truth of what the Scripture teaches concerning
the evil of sin against so glorious a God ; also the truth of
what it teaches concerning sin's just desert of that dreadful
punishment which it reveals ; and concerning the impos
sibility of our offering any satisfaction, or sufficient atone
ment for that which is so infinitely evil and heinous. And
this again shows the truth of what the Scripture reveals
concerning the necessity of a Saviour, to offer an atone
ment of infinite value for sin. This sense of spiritual
beauty enables the soul to see the glory of those things
which the gospel reveals concerning the person of Christ ;
and so enables to see the exceeding beauty and dignity of
his person, appearing in what the gospel exhibits of his
word, works, acts, and life ; and this apprehension of the
superlative dignity of his person, shows the truth of what
the gospel declares concerning the value of his blood and
righteousness ; the infinite excellency of that offering he
has made to God for us, its sufficiency to atone for our
sins, and recommend us to God. And thus the Spirit of
God discovers the way of salvation by Christ ; the soul
sees the fitness and suitableness of this way, the admirable
wisdom of the contrivance, and the perfect answerableness
to our necessities of the provision that the gospel exhibits.
A sense of true divine beauty being given, the soul dis
cerns the beauty of every part of the gospel-scheme. This
also shows the soul the truth of what the word of God de
clares concerning man's chief happiness, as consisting in

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holy exercises and enjoyments, and the unspeakable glory
of the heavenly state. What the prophecies of the Old
Testament and the writings of the apostles declare con
cerning the glory of the Messiah's kingdom, is now all
plain ; and also what the Scripture teaches concerning the
reasons and grounds of our duty. The truth of all these
things revealed in the Scripture, and many more that
might be mentioned, appear to the soul, only by that
spiritual taste of divine beauty, which has been spoken of;
they being hidden things before.
And besides all this, the truth of all those things which
the Scripture says about experimental religion, is hereby
known; for they are now experienced. And this con
vinces the soul, that one who knew the heart of man, bet
ter than we know our own hearts, and perfectly knew the
nature of virtue and holiness, was the author of the Scrip
tures. And the opening to view, with such clearness,
such a world of wonderful and glorious truth in the gos
pel, that before was unknown, being quite above the
view of a natural eye, but now appearing so clear and
bright, has a powerful and invincible influence on the soul,
to persuade it of the divinity of the gospel.
Unless men may come to a reasonable solid persuasion
and conviction of the truth of the gospel, by internal evi
dences in the way that has been spoken, viz. by a sight of
its glory ; it is impossible that those who are illiterate,
and unacquainted with history, should have any thorough
and effectual conviction of it at all. They may, without
this see a great deal of probability of it ; it may be reason
able for them to give much credit to what learned men and
historians tell them ; and they may tell them so much,
that it may look very probable and rational to them, that
the Christian religion is true ; and so much that they would
be very unreasonable not to entertain this opinion. But
to have a conviction, so clear, and evident, and assuring,
as to be sufficient to induce them, with boldness to sell
all, confidently and fearlessly to run the venture of the loss
of all things, and of enduring the most exquisite and long
continued torments, and to trample the world under foot,
and count all things but dung for Christ ; the evidence
they can have from history, cannot be sufficient. It is
impossible that men, who have not something of a general
view of the historical world, or the series of history from
age to age, should come at the force of arguments for the
truth of Christianity, drawn from history, to that degree, as
effectually to induce them to venture their all upon it.
After all that learned men have said to them, there will re
main innumerable doubts on their minds ; they will be
ready, when pinched with some great trial of their faith, to
say, " How do I know this, or that? How do 1 know
when these histories were written ? Learned men tell me
these histories were so and so attested in their day ; but
how do I know that there were such attestations then ?
They tell me there is equal reason to believe these facts,
as any whatsoever that are related at such a distance ; but
how do I know that other facts which are related of those
ages, ever were ? " Those who have not something of a gene
ral view of the series of historical events, and of the state of
mankind from age to age, cannot see the clear evidence
from history of the truth of facts in distant ages ; but there
will remain endless doubts and scruples.
But the gospel was not given only for learned men.
There are at least nineteen in twenty, if not ninety-nine in
a hundred, of those for whom the Scriptures were written,
who are not capable of any certain or effectual conviction
of the divine authority of the Scriptures, by such argu
ments as learned men use. If men who have been brought
up in heathenism, must wait for a clear and certain con
viction of the truth of Christianity, until they have learn
ing and acquaintance with the histories of politer nations,
enough to see clearly the force of such kind of arguments ;
it will make the evidence of the gospel, to them, immensely
cumbersome, and will render the propagation of the gospel
among them infinitely difficult. Miserable is the condi
tion of the Houssatunnuck Indians and others, who have
lately manifested a desire to be instructed in Christianity,
if they can come at no evidence of the truth of Christian
ity, sufficient to induce them to sell all for Christ, in any
other way but this.
It is unreasonable to suppose, that God has provided

for his people, no more than probable evidences of the
truth of the gospel. He has with great care abundantly
provided, and given them the most convincing, assuring,
satisfying, and manifold evidence of his faithfulness in the
covenant of grace ; and as David says, made a covenant,
ordered in all things and sure. Therefore it is rational to
suppose, that at the same time, he would not fail of order
ing the matter so, that there should not be wanting as great
and clear evidence, that this is his covenant, and that these
promises are his promises ; or, which is the same, thing,
that the christian religion is true, and that the gospel is his
word. Otherwise in vain are those great assurances he has
given of his faithfulness in his covenant, by confirming it
with his oath, and so variously establishing it by seals and
pledges. For the evidence that it is his covenant, is pro
perly the foundation on which all the force and effect of
those other assurances do stand. We may therefore un
doubtedly suppose and conclude, that there is some sort
of evidence which God has given, that this covenant and
these promises are his, beyond all mere probability ; that
there are some grounds of assurance of it held forth, which,
if we are not blind to them, tend to give a higher persua
sion, than any arguing from history, human tradition, &c.
which the illiterate, and unacquainted with history, are
capable of ; yea, that which is good ground of the highest
and most perfect assurance, that mankind have in any case
whatsoever ; agreeable to those high expressions which the
apostle uses, Heb. x. 22. " Let us draw near in full assur
ance of faith." And Col. ii. 2. " That their hearts might
be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all
riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the ac
knowledgment of the mystery of God, and ofthe Father,and
of Christ." It is reasonable to suppose, that God would
give the greatest evidence of those things which are great
est, and the truth of which is of greatest importance to
us : and that we therefore, if we are wise, and act ration
ally, shall have the greatest desire of having full, undoubt-
ing, and perfect assurance thereof. But it is certain, that
such an assurance is not to be attained by the greater part
of them who live under the gospel, by arguments fetched
from ancient traditions, histories, and monuments.
And if we come to fact and experience, there is not
the least reason to suppose, that one in a hundred of those
who have been sincere Christians, and have had a heart to
sell all for Christ, have come by their conviction of the
truth of the gospel this way. If we read over the histories
of the many thousands that died martyrs for Christ, since
the beginning of the reformation, and have cheerfully un
dergone extreme tortures, in a confidence of the truth of the
gospel, and consider their circumstances and advantages ;
how few of them were there, that we can reasonably sup
pose ever came by their assured persuasion this way ; or
indeed for whom it was possible, reasonably to receive so
full and strong an assurance, from such arguments ! Many
of them were weak women and children, and the greater
part of them illiterate persons ; many of whom had been
brought up in popish ignorance and darkness, were but
newly come out of it, and lived and died in times, where
in those arguments for the truth of Christianity from an
tiquity and history, had been but very imperfectly handled.
And indeed, it is but very lately that these arguments
have been set in a clear and convincing light, even by
learned men themselves : and since it has been done, there
never were fewer thorough believers, among those who
have been educated in the true religion; infidelity never
prevailed so much, in any age, as in this, wherein these
arguments are handled to the greatest advantage.
The true martyrs of Jesus Christ, are not those who
have only been strong in opinion that the gospel of Christ
is true, but those that have seen the truth qfit; as the very
name of martyrs or witnesses (by which they are called in
Scripture) implies. Those are very improperly called wit
nesses of the truth of any thing, who only declare they are
very much of opinion that such a thing is true. Those
only are proper witnesses, who can and do testify that they
have seen the truth of the thing they assert ; John iii. 11.
" We speak that we do know, and testify that we have
seen." John i. 34. " And I saw, and bare record, that this
is the Son of God." 1 John iv. 14. "And we have seen
and do testify, that the Father sent the Son to be the Sa-

Sect. V.

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293

viour of the world." Acts xxii. 14, 15. " The God of our
fathers hath chosen thee, that thou shouldst know his will,
and see that just One, and shouldst hear the voice of his
mouth : for thou shalt be his witness unto all men, of what
thou hast seen and heard." But the true martyrs of Jesus
Christ are called his witnesses : and all the saints, who by
their holy practice under great trials declare that faith which
is the substance of things liopedfor, and the evidence of
things not seen, are called witnesses, (Heb. xi. 1. and xii.
1.) By their profession and practice they declare their
assurance of the truth and divinity of the gospel, having
had the eyes of their minds enlightened to see divinity in
the gospel, or to behold that unparalleled, ineffably ex
cellent, and truly divine glory shining in it, which is alto
gether distinguishing, evidential, and convincing : so that
they may truly be said to have seen God in it, to have
seen that it is indeed divine ; and so can speak in the style
of witnesses. They can not only say, that they think the
gospel is divine, but that it is divine, giving it in as their tes
timony, because they have seen it to be so. Doubtless Peter,
James, and John, after they had seen that excellent glory
of Christ in the mount, would have been ready, when they
came down, to speak in the language of witnesses, and to
say positively that Jesus is the Son of God ; as Peter says,
they were eye-witnesses, 2 Pet. i. 16. And _o all nations
will be ready positively to say this, when they shall behold
his glory at the day of judgment; though that will be
universally seen, will be only his natural glory, and not
his moral and spiritual glory, which is much more distin
guishing. But yet, it must be noted, that among those who have a
spiritual sight of the divine glory of the gospel ; there is a
great variety in degrees of strength of faith, as there is a
vast variety of the degrees of clearness of views of this
glory : but there is no true and saving faith, or spiritual
conviction of the judgment, of the truth of the gospel, that
has nothing in it, of this manifestation of its internal evi
dence, in some degree. The gospel of the blessed God
does not go abroad a begging for its evidence, so much as
some think : it has its highest and most proper evidence
in itself. Though great use may be made of external argu
ments, they are not to be neglected, but highly prized and
valued ; for they may be greatly serviceable to awaken
unbelievers, and bring them to serious consideration, and
to confirm the faith of true saints ; yea, they may be in
some respects subservient to the begetting of a saving faith
in men. Though what was said before remains true, that
there is no spiritual conviction of the judgment, but what
arises from an apprehension of the spiritual beauty and
glory of divine things : for, as has been observed, this
apprehension or view has a tendency to convince the mind
of the truth of the gospel, two ways ; either directly or
indirectly. — Having therefore already observed how it does
this directly, I proceed now,
II. To observe how a view of this divine glory con
vinces the mind of the truth of Christianity, more indi
rectly. First, It doth so, as the prejudices of the heart against
the truth of divine things are hereby removed, so that the
mind thereby lies open to the force of the reasons which
are offered. The mind of man is naturally full of enmity
against the doctrines of the gospel ; which is a disadvan
tage to those arguments that prove their truth, and causes
them to lose their force upon the mind : but when a per
son has discovered to him the divine excellency of chris
tian doctrines, this destroys that enmity, and removes the
prejudices, and sanctifies the reason, and causes it to be
open and free. Hence is a vast difference, as to the force
that arguments have to convince the mind. Hence was the
very different effect which Christ's miracles had to convince
the disciples from what they had to convince the scribes and
Pharisees : not that they had a stronger reason, or had their
reason more improved ; but their reason was sanctified,
and those blinding prejudices, which the scribes and Pha
risees were under, were removed, by the sense they had
of the excellency of Christ and his doctrine.
Secondly, It not only removes the hinderances of reason,
but positively helps reason. It makes even the speculative
notions more lively. It assists and engages the attention
of the mind to that kind of objects ; which causes it to

have a clearer view of them, and more clearly to see their
mutual relations. . The ideas themselves, which otherwise
are dim and obscure, by this means have light cast upon
them, and are impressed with greater strength, so that the
mind can better judge of them ; as he that beh Ids the
objects on the face of the earth, when the light of the sun
is cast upon them, is under greater advantage to discern
them in their true forms and mutual relations, and to see
the evidences of divine wisdom and skill in their contri
vance, than he that sees them in a dim star-light, or twi
light. What has been said, may serve in some measure to show
the nature of a spiritual conviction of the truth and reality
of divine things ; and so to distinguish truly gracious affec
tions from others ; for gracious affections are evermore
attended with such a conviction of the judgment. But
before I dismiss this head, it will be needful to observe the
ways whereby some are deceived, with respect to this
matter ; and take notice of several things that are some
times taken for a spiritual and saving belief of the truth,
which are indeed very diverse from it.
1. There is a degree of conviction of the truth of the
great things of religion, that arises from the common en-
lightenings of the Spirit of God. The more lively and
sensible apprehension of the things of religion, with respect
to what is natural in them — such as natural men have who
are under awakenings and common illuminations — will
give some degree of conviction of the truth, beyond what
they had before they were thus enlightened. For hereby
they see the manifestations made in the Holy Scriptures,
of the natural perfections of God ; such as his greatness,
power, and awful majesty ; which tends to convince the
mind, that this is the word of a great and terrible God.
From the tokens there are of God's greatness and majesty
in his word and works, of which they have a great sense,
from the common influence of the Spirit of God, they may
have a much greater conviction that these are indeed the
word and works of a very great invisible Being. And the
lively apprehension of the greatness of God, which natural
men may have, tends to make them sensible of the great
guilt, which sin against such a God brings, and the dread
fulness of his wrath for sin. And this tends to cause them
more easily and fully to believe the revelation the Scrip
ture makes of another world, and ofthe extreme misery it
threatens, there to be inflicted on sinners. And so from
that sense of the great natural good there is in the things
of religion, which is sometimes given in common illumi
nations, men may be the more induced to believe the truth
of religion. These things persons may have, and yet have
no sense of the beauty and amiableness of the moral and
holy excellency of religion ; and therefore no spiritual con
viction of their truth. But yet such convictions are some
times mistaken for saving convictions, and the affections
flowing from them, for saving affections.
2. The extraordinary impressions which are made on the
imaginations of some persons, in visions, and immediate
strong impulses and suggestions, as though they saw
sights, and had words spoken to them, may, and often do
beget a strong persuasion of the truth of invisible things.
Though the general tendency of such things, in their final
issue, is to draw men off from the word of God, and to
cause them to reject the gospel, and to establish unbelief
and atheism ; yet for the present, they may, and often do
beget a confident persuasion of the truth of some things
that are revealed in the Scriptures ; however their con
fidence is founded in delusion, and so nothing worth. As
for instance, if a person has by some invisible agent, im
mediately and strongly impressed on his imagination, the
appearance of a bright light, and glorious form of a person
seated on a throne, with great external majesty and beauty,
uttering some remarkable words, with preat force and
energy ; the person who is the subject of such an operation,
may be from hence confident, that there are invisible agents,
spiritual beings, from what he has experienced, knowing
that he had no hand himself in this extraordinary effect,
which he has experienced. He may also be confident,
that this is Christ whom he saw and heard speaking ; and
this may make him confident that there is a Christ, aud
that Christ reigns on a throne in heaven, as he saw him ;
and mav be confident that the words which he heard him

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speak are true, &c. in the same manner as the lying mira
cles of the papists, may for the present beget in the minds
of the ignorant, deluded people, a strong persuasion of the
truth of many things declared in the New Testament.
Thus when the images of Christ, in popish churches, are
on some extraordinary occasions, made by priestcraft to
appear to the people as if they wept, and shed fresh blood,
and moved, and uttered such and such words ; the people
may be verily persuaded that it is a miracle wrought Dy
Christ himself; and from thence may be confident there is
a Christ, and that what they are told of his death and
sufferings, resurrection and ascension, and present govern
ment of the world, is true ; for they may look upon this
miracle, as a certain evidence of all these things, and a
kind of ocular demonstration of them. This may be the
influence of these lying wonders for the present ; though
the general tendency of them is not to convince that Jesus
Christ is come in the flesh, but finally to promote atheism.
Even the intercourse which Satan has with witches, and
their often experiencing his immediate power, has a ten
dency to convince them of the truth of some of the doc
trines of religion ; as particularly the reality of an invisi
ble world, or world of spirits, contrary to the doctrine of
the Sadducees. The general tendency of Satan's in
fluences is delusion; but yet he may mix some truth with
his lies, that his lies may not be so easily discovered.
Multitudes are deluded with a counterfeit faith, from
impressions on their imagination, in the manner now men
tioned. They say they know that there is a God, for they
have seen him ; they know that Christ is the Son of God,
for they have seen him in his glory ; they know that Christ
died for sinners, for they have seen him hanging on the
cross, and his blood running from his wounds ; they know
there is a heaven and hell, for they have seen the misery
of the damned souls in hell, and the glory of saints and
angels in heaven ; (meaning some external representations,
strongly impressed on their imagination ;) they know that
the Scriptures are the word of God, and that such and
such promises in particular are his word, for they have
heard him speak them to them, they came to their minds
suddenly and immediately from God, without their having
any hand in it.
3. Persons may seem to have their belief of the truth
greatly increased, when the foundation of it is only a per
suasion of their interest in them. They first, by some
means or other, take up a confidence, that if there be
a Christ and a heaven, they are theirs ; and this prejudices
them more in favour of their truth. When they hear of
the great and glorious things of religion, it is with this
notion, that all these things belong to them ; and hence
easily become confident that they are true ; they look upon
it to be greatly for their interest that they should be true.
It is very obvious what a strong influence men's interest
and inclinations have on their judgments. While a natural
man thinks, that if there be a heaven and a hell, the latter
and not the former belongs to him ; then he will be hardly
persuaded that there is a heaven or hell. But when he
comes to be persuaded, that hell belongs only to others
and not to him ; then he can easily allow the reality of
hell, and exclaim against the senselessness and sottishness
of others in neglecting means of escape from it : and being
confident that he is a child of God, and that God has pro
mised heaven to him, he may seem strong in the faith of
its reality, and may have a great zeal against that infidelity
which denies it. But I proceed to another distinguishing
sign of gracious affections.

SECT. VI.
Gracious affections are attended with evangelical
humiliation.
Evangelical humiliation is a sense that a Christian
has of his own utter insufficiency, despicableness, and
odiousness, with an answerable frame of heart. There is
a distinction to be made between a legal and evangelical
humiliation. The former is what men may have while in
a state of nature, and have no gracious affection ; the latter
is peculiar to true saints. The former is from the common

influence of the Spirit of God, assisting natural principles,
and especially natural conscience ; the latter is from the
special influences of the Spirit of God, implanting and
exercising supernatural and divine principles. The former
is from the mind being assisted to a greater sense of re
ligious things, as to their natural properties and qualities,
and particularly of the natural perfections of God, such
as his greatness, terrible majesty, &c. — which were mani
fested to the congregation of Israel, in giving the law at
mount Sinai — the latter is from a sense of the transcend
ent beauty of divine things in their moral qualities. In
the former, a sense of the awful greatness and natural
perfections of God, and of the strictness of his law, con
vinces men that they are exceeding sinful and guilty, and
exposed to the wrath of God, as it will convince wicked
men and devils at the day of judgment ; but they do not
see their own odiousness on account of sin ; they do not see
the hateful nature of sin; a sense of this is given in
evangelical humiliation, by a discovery of the beauty of
God s holiness and moral perfection. In a legal humilia
tion men are made sensible that they are nothing before
the great and terrible God, and that they are undone, and
wholly insufficient to help themselves ; as wicked men
will be at the day of judgment : but they have not an
answerable frame of heart, consisting in a disposition to
abase themselves, and exalt God alone. This disposition
is given only in evangelical humiliation, by overcoming
the heart, and changing its inclination, by a discovery of
God's holy beauty. In a legal humiliation, the conscience
is convinced ; as the consciences of all will be most per
fectly at the day of judgment ; but because there is no
spiritual understanding, the will is not bowed, nor the in
clination altered. In legal humiliation, men are brought to
despair of helping themselves; in evangelical, they are
brought voluntarily to deny and renounce themselves : in
the former, they are subdued and forced to the ground ; in
the latter, they are brought sweetly to yield, and freely and
with delight to prostrate themselves at the feet of God.
Legal humiliation has in it no spiritual good, nothing of
the nature of true virtue ; whereas evangelical humiliation
is that wherein the excellent beauty of christian grace does
very much consist. Legal humiliation is useful, as a
means in order to evangelical ; as a common knowledge
of the tilings of religion is a means requisite in order to
spiritual knowledge. Men may be legally humbled and
have no humility ; as the wicked at the day of judgment
will be thoroughly convinced that they have no righteous
ness, but are altogether sinful, exceeding guilty, and justly
exposed to eternal damnation — and be fully sensible of
their own helplessness — without the least mortification of
the pride of their hearts. But the essence of evangelical
humiliation consists in such humility as becomes a crea
ture in itself exceeding sinful, under a dispensation of
grace ; consisting in a mean esteem of himself, as in him
self nothing, and altogether contemptible and odious;
attended with a mortification of a disposition to exalt him
self, and a free renunciation of his own glory.
This is a great and most essential thing in true religion.
The whole frame of the gospel, every thing appertaining
to the new covenant, and all God's dispensations towards
fallen man, are calculated to bring to pass this effect. They
that are destitute of this, have no true religion, whatever
profession they may make, and how high soever their
religious affections may be ; Hab. ii. 4. " Behold, his soul
which is lifted up, is not upright in him ; but the just shall
live by his faith ;" i. e. he shall live by his faith on God's
righteousness and grace, and not his own goodness and
excellency. God has abundantly manifested in his word,
that this is what he has a peculiar respect to in his saints,
and that nothing is acceptable to him without it; Ps.
xxxiv. 18. " The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a
broken heart, and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit."
Ps. li. 17. " The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a
broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."
Ps. cxxxviii. 6. " Though the Lord be high, yet hath he
respect unto the lowly." Prov. iii. 34. " He giveth grace
unto the lowly." Isa. lvii. 15. " Thus saith the high and
lofty One who inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, I
dwell in the high and holy place ; with him also that is of a
contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the hum-

Sect. VI.

THEY ARE ATTENDED WITH EVANGELICAL HUMILIATION.

295

ble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones." Isa. lxvi.
1,2." Thus saith the Lord, The heaven is my throne, and
the earth is my footstool : — but to this man will I look, even
to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth
at my word." Micah vi. 8 . " He hath showed thee, O man,
what is good ; and what doth the Lord thy God require of
thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk
humbly with thy God }" Matt. v. 3. " Blessed are the poor
in spirit : for theirs is the kingdom of God." Matt, xviii.
3, 4. " Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted,
and become as little children, ye shall not enter into
the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall
humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest
in the kingdom of heaven." Mark x. 15. " Verily I say
unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God
as a little child, he shall not enter therein." The centu
rion (Luke vii.) acknowledged that he was not worthy that
Christ should enter under his roof, and that he was not
worthy to come to him. See the manner of a sinner com
ing to Christ, Luke vii. 37, &c. " And behold, a woman
in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus
sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster
box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping,
and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them
with the hairs of her head." She did not think the hair of
her head, which is the natural crown and glory of a
woman, (1 Cor. xi. 15.) too good to wipe the feet of Christ.
Jesus most graciously accepted her, and says, " Thy faith
hath saved thee, go in peace." The woman of Canaan
submitted to Christ, in his saying, " It is not meet to take
• the children's bread, and to cast it to the dogs," and did as
it were own that she was worthy to be called a dog ;
whereupon Christ says unto her, " O woman, great is thy
faith : be it unto thee, even as thou wilt," Matt. xv. 26 —
28. The prodigal son said, " I will arise, and go to my
father, and I will say unto him, Father, I have sinned
against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy
to be called thy son : make me as one of thy hired ser
vants," Luke xv. 18, &c. See also Luke xviii. 9, &c.
" And he spake this parable unto certain which trusted in
themselves that they were righteous, and despised others,
&c. — The publican standing afar oft', would not so much
as lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast,
saying, God be merciful to me a sinner. I tell you, this
man went down to his house justified rather than the other:
for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased : and he
that humbleth himself, shall be exalted." Matt, xxviii. 9.
" And they came, and held him by the feet, and worship
ped him." Col. iii. 12. " Put ye on, as the elect of God,
— humbleness of mind." Ezek. xx. 41, 43. " 1 will accept
you with your sweet savour, when I bring you out from
the people, &c. — And there shall ye remember your ways,
and all your doings, wherein ye have been defiled, and ve
shall loathe yourselves in your own sight, for all your evils
that ye have committed." Chap, xxxvi. 26, 27, 31. " A
new heart also will I give unto you, — and I will put my
Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes,
&c. — Then shall ye remember your own evil ways, and
your doings that were not good, and shall loathe yourselves
in your own sight, for your iniquities, and for your abomi
nations." Chap. xvi. 63. " That thou mayst remember and
be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more be
cause of thy shame, when I am pacified toward thee for all
that thou hast done, saith the Lord." Job xiii. 6. " I abhor
myself, and repent in dust and ashes."
As we would therefore make the Holy Scriptures our
rule, in judging of the nature of true religion, and judging
¦* Calvin, in his Institutions, Book II. chap. 2. § ll.'says, " I was always
exceedingly pleased with that saying of Chrysostom, ' The foundation of our
philosophy is humility ;' and yet more pleased with that of Augustine, ' As,'
says he, ' the rhetorician being asked, what was the first tiling in the rules of
eloquence, he answered, Pronunciation : what was the second, pronuncia
tion ; what was the third, still he answered, pronunciation. So if you should
ask me concerning the precepts of the christian religion, I would answer,
firstly, secondly, and thirdly, and for ever. Humility' "
t " Albeit the Pythagoreans were thus famous for Judaic mysterious
wisdom, and many moral as well as natural accomplishments; yet were
they not exempted from boasting and pride ; which was indeed a vice most
epidemic, and as it were congenial, among all the philosophers ; but in a
more particular manner, among the Pythagoreans. So Hornius Hist.
Philosoph. L. 3. chap. II. The manners of the Pythagoreanswere not free
from boasting. They were all nEPIAUTOAOrol, such as abounded in the
sense and commendation of their own excellencies, and boasting even al
most to the degree of immodesty and impudence, as great Heinsius ad

of our own religious qualifications and state ; it concerns
us greatly to look at this humiliation, as one of the most
essential things pertaining to true Christianity* This is
the principal part of the great christian duty of self-denial.
That duty consists in two things, viz. first, In a man's de
nying his worldly inclinations, and in forsaking and re
nouncing all worldly objects and enjoyments ; and, second
ly, In denying his natural self-exaltation, and renouncing
his own dignity and glory, and in being emptied of him
self; so that he does freely, and from his very heart, as it
were renounce, and annihilate himself. Thus the Chris
tian doth in evangelical humiliation. The latter is the
.greatest and most difficult part of self-denial : although
they always go together, and one never truly is, where the
other is not ; yet natural men can come much nearer to the
former than the latter. Many Anchorites and Recluses
have abandoned (though without any true mortification;
the wealth, and pleasures, and common enjoyments ofthe
world, who were far from renouncing their own dignity and
righteousness. They never denied themselves for Christ,
but only sold one lust to feed another, sold a beastly lust
to pamper a devilish one ; and so were never the better, but
their latter end was worse than their beginning. They
turned out one black devil to let in seven white ones worse
than the first, though of a fairer countenance. It is inex
pressible, and almost inconceivable, how strong a self-
righteous, self-exalting disposition is naturally in man.
What will he not do and suffer, to feed and gratify it ?
What lengths have been gone in a seeming self-denial in
other respects, by Essenes and Pharisees, amoug the Jews;
by papists, many sects of heretics, and enthusiasts, among
professing Christians ; by many Mahometans ; by Pytha
gorean philosophers, and others, among the heathen ; and
all to do sacrifice to this Moloch of spiritual pride or self-
righteousness ; and that they may have something wherein
to exalt themselves before God, and above their fellow-
creatures ?
Real humiliation is what all the most glorious hypo
crites, who make the most splendid show of mortification
to the world, and high religious affection, grossly fail in.
Were it not that this is so much insisted on in Scripture,
as a most essential thing in true grace; one would be
tempted to think that many of the heathen philosophers
were truly gracious, in whom was so bright an appearance
of many virtues, and also great illuminations, and inward
fervours and elevations of mind, as though they were truly
the subjects of divine illapses and heavenly communica-
tions.f It is true, that many hypocrites make great pre
tences to humility, as well as other graces ; and very often
there is nothing whatsoever of which they make a higher
profession. They endeavour to make a great show of hu
mility in speech and behaviour ; but they commonly make
bungling work of it, though glorious work in their own
eyes. They cannot find out what a humble speech and
behaviour is, or how to speak and act so that there may
indeed be a savour of christian humility in what they say
and do : that sweet humble air and mien is beyond their
art, being not led by the Spirit, or naturally guided to a be
haviour becoming holy humility, by the vigour of a lowly
spirit within them. And therefore they have no other way,
many of them, but to be much in declaring that they are
humble, and telling how they were humbled to the dust at
such and such times, and abounding in very bad expres
sions about themselves ; such as, 1 am the least of all
saints, I am a poor vile creature, 1 am not worthy of the
least mercy, or that God should look upon me ! Oh, I have
a dreadful wiclted heart! my heart is worse than the devil !
Horat. hasrightly observed. Thus indeed does proud nature delightto walk
in the sparks of its own fire. And although many of these' old philosophers
could, by the strength of their own lights andheats. together with some com
mon elevations andraisures of spirit, (peradventure from a more than ordi
nary, though not special and saving, assistance of the SDirit.) abandon
many grosser vices ; yet they were all deeply immersed in that miserable
cursed abyss of spiritual pride : so that all their natural, and moral, and
philosophic attainments, did feed, nourish, strengthen, and render most
inveterate, this hell-bred pest of their hearts. Yea, those of them that
seemed most modest, as the Academics, who professed they knew nothing,
and the Cynics, who greatly decried, both in words and habits, the pride of
others, yet even they abounded in the most notorious and visible pride. So
connatural and morally essential to corrupt nature, is this envenomed root,
fountain, and plague of spiritual pride ; especially where there is any natu
ral, moral, or philosophic excellence lo feed the same. Whence Austin
rightly judged all these philosophic virtues to be but splendid sins." Gales's
Court ofthe Gentiles, Part II. B. ii. chap. x. § 17.

296

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

Oh, this cursed heart of mine, &c. Such expressions are
very often used, not with a heart broken, not with spiritual
mourning, not with the tears of her that washed Jesus's
feet with her tears, not as remembering and being confound
ed, and never opening their mouth more because of their
shame, when God is pacified, (Ezek. xvi. 63.) but 'with a
light air, with smiles in the countenance, or with a phari-
saical affectation. We must believe that they are thus
humble, and see themselves so vile, upon the credit of
their say so; for nothing appears in them of any savour of
humility, in the manner of their deportment and deeds.
There are many full of expressions of their own vileness,
who yet expect to be looked upon as eminent and bright
saints by others, as their due ; and it is dangerous for any,
so much as to hint the contrary, or to carry it towards
them any otherwise, than as if we looked upon them some
of the chief of Christians. Many are much in exclaiming
against their wicked hearts, their great short-comings, and
unprofitableness, and in speaking as though they looked on
themselves as the meanest of the saints ; who yet, if a
minister should seriously tell them the same things in
private, and should signify, that he feared they were very
low and weak Christians— and thought they 'had reason
solemnly to consider of their great barrenness and unprofit
ableness, and falling so much short of many others— it
would be more than they could digest ; they would think
themselves highly injured ; and there would be danger
of a rooted prejudice in them against such a minister.
Some are abundant in talking against legal doctrines,
legal preaching, and a legal spirit, who do but little under
stand the thing they talk against. A legal spirit is a more
subtle thing than they imagine, it is too subtle for them.
It lurks, and operates, and prevails in their hearts, and
they are most notoriously guilty of it, at the same time,
when they are inveighing against it. So far as a man is
not emptied of himself, and of his own righteousness and
goodness, in whatever form or shape, so far he is of a
legal spirit. A spirit of pride of a man's own righteousness,
morality, holiness, affection, experience, faith, humiliation,
or any goodness whatsoever, is a legal spirit. It was no
pride in Adam before the fall, to be of a legal spirit ; be
cause of his circumstances, he might seek acceptance by
his own righteousness. But a legal spirit in a fallen sinful
creature, can be nothing but spiritual pride ; and recipro
cally, a spiritually proud spirit is a legal spirit. There is
no man living lifted up with a conceit of his own experi
ences and discoveries, and upon the account of them glis
ters in his own eyes, but what trusts in his experiences, and
makes a righteousness of them. However he may use
humble terms, and speak of his experiences as of the great
things God has done for him, and it may be calls upon
others to glorify God' for them ; yet he that is proud of
his experiences, arrogates something to himself, as though
his experiences were some dignity of his. And if he looks
on them as his own dignity, he necessarily thinks that God
looks on them so too ; for he necessarily thinks his own
opinion of them to be true ; and consequently judges that
God looks on them as he does ; and so unavoidably
imagines that God looks on his experiences as a dignity in
him, as he looks on them himself; and that he glisters as
much in God's eyes, as he does in his own. And thus he
trusts in what is inherent in him, to make him shine in
God's sight, and recommend him to God. With this en
couragement he goes before God in prayer ; this makes
him to expect much ; to think that Christ loves him, and
that he is willing to clothe him with his righteousness ; be
cause he supposes that he is taken with his experiences
and graces. And this is a high degree of living on his
own righteousness ; and such persons are in the high road
to hell. Poor deluded wretches, who think they look so
glistering in God's eyes, when they are a smoke in his
nose, and are many of them more odious to him, than the
* " Take not every opinion and doctrine from men or angels, that bears a
fair show of advancing Christ ; for they may be but the fruits of evangelical
hypocrisy and deceit ; that being deceived themselves, may deceive others
too ; Matt. vii. 15. Beware of them that come in sheep's clothing ,¦ in the
innocency, purity, and meekness of Christ and his people : but inwardly are
wolves, proud, cruel, censorious, speaking evil of what they know not. By
their fruits ye shall know them. Do not think, beloved, that Satan will
not seek to send delusions among us. And do you think these delusions will
come out of the popish pack, whose inventions smell above-ground here ?
No, he must come, and will come, with more evangelical, fine-spun devices.

most impure beast in Sodom, that makes no pretence to
religion f To do as these do, is to live upon experiences,
according to the true notion of it ; and not to do as those
who only make use of spiritual experiences as evidences
of a state of grace, and in that way receive hope and
comfort from them.
There is a sort of men, who indeed abundantly cry
down works, and cry up faith in opposition to works, and
set up themselves very much as evangelical persons, in
opposition to those that are of a legal spirit, and make a
fair show of advancing Christ and the gospel, and the way
of free grace ; who are indeed some of the greatest ene
mies to the gospel-way of free grace, and the most danger
ous opposers of pure humble Christianity.*
There is a pretended great humiliation, being dead to
the law, and emptied of self, which is one of the most
elated things in the world. Some there are, who have
made great profession of experience of a thorough work
of the law on their own hearts, and of being brought fully
off from works whose conversation has savoured most of a
self-righteous spirit, of any that ever I had opportunity to
observe. Some, who think themselves quite emptied of
themselves, confident that they are abased in the dust, are
full as they can hold with the glory of their own humility,
and lifted up to heaven with ahigh opinion of their abase
ment. Their humility is a swelling, self-conceited, con
fident, showy, noisy, assuming humility. It seems to be
the nature of spiritual pride to make men conceited and
ostentatious of their humility. — This appears in that first
born of pride, among the children of men, that would be
called his holiness, even the man of sin, that exalts himself *
above all that is called God or is worshipped ; he styles
himself servant of servants ; and to make a show of
humility, washes the feet of a number of poor men at his
inauguration. For persons to be truly emptied of themselves, poor in
spirit, and broken in heart, is quite another thing, and has
other effects, than many imagine. It is astonishing how
greatly many are deceived about themselves as to this
matter, imagining themselves most humble, when they are
most proud, and their behaviour is really the most haughty.
The deceitfulness of the heart of man appears in no one
thing so much, as this of spiritual pride and self-righte
ousness. The subtlety of Satan appears in its height, in
his managing of persons with respect to this sin. And
perhaps one reason may be, that here he has most experi
ence : he knows the way of its coming in ; he is ac
quainted with the secret springs of it ; it was his own
sin. — Experience gives vast advantage in leading souls,
either to good or evil.
But though spiritual pride be so subtle and secret an
iniquity, and commonly appears under a pretext of great
humility ; yet there are two things by which it may (per
haps universally and surely) be discovered and distin
guished. The first is this ; he that is under the prevalence of this
distemper, is apt to think highly of his attainments in
religion, as comparing himself with others. It is natural
for him to fall into that thought of himself, that he is an
eminent saint, that he is very high amongst the saints, and
has distinguishingly good and great experiences. That is
the secret language of his heart, Luke xviii. 11. " God, I
thank thee that I am not as other men." And Isa. lxv. 5.
" I am holier than thou." Hence such are apt to put
themselves forward among God's people, and as it were to
take a high seat among them, as if there was no doubt of
it but it belonged to them. They, as it were, naturally do
that which Christ condemns, Luke xiv. 7, &c. " Take the
highest room." This they do, by being forward to take
upon them the place and business of the chief; to guide,
teach, direct, and manage : " They are confident that they
are guides to the blind, a light of them which are in dark-
It is a rule observed amongst Jesuits, at this day, if they would conquer re
ligion by subtlety, never oppose religion with a cross religion ; but set it
against itself. So oppose the gospel by the gospel. And look, as churches
pleading for works, had new invented devised works; so when faith is
preached, men will have their new inventions of faith. I speak not this against
the doctrine of faith, where it is preached ; but am glad of it : not that I
would have men content themselves with every form of faith ; for I believe
that most men's faith needs confirming or trying. But I speak to prevent
danger on that hand." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 122

Sect. VI.

THEY ARE ATTENDED WITH EVANGELICAL HUMILIATION.

297

ness, instructors of the foolish, teachers of babes," Rom.
ii. 19, 20. It is natural for them to take it for granted,
that it belongs to them to do the part of dictators and
masters in matters of religion ; and so they implicitly af
fect to be called of men Rabbi, which is by interpretation
Master, as the Pharisees did, Matt, xxiii. 6, 7. i. e. they
are apt to expect that others should regard them, and
yield to them, as masters, in matters of religion. *
But he whose heart is under the power of christian
humility, is of a contrary disposition. If the Scriptures
are at all to be relied on, such an one is apt to think his
attainments in religion to be comparatively mean, and to
esteem himself low among the saints, and one of the least
of saints. Humility, or true lowliness of mind, disposes
persons to think others better than themselves ; Phil. ii. 3.
"In lowliness of mind, let each esteem others better than
themselves." Hence they are apt to think the lowest room
belongs to them ; and their inward disposition naturally
leads them to obey that precept of our Saviour, Luke
xiv. 10. It is not natural to them to take it upon them
to do the part of teachers ; but on the contrary, they are
disposed to think that they are not the persons, that others
are fitter for it than they ; as it was with Moses and Jere
miah, (Exod. iii. 11. Jer. i. 6.) though they were such
eminent saints, and of great knowledge. It is not natural
to them to think that it belongs to them to teach, but to
be taught : they are much more eager to hear, and to re
ceive instruction from others, than to dictate ; Jam. i. 19.
"Be ye swift to hear, slow to speak." And when they do
speak, it is not natural to them to speak with a bold,
masterly air ; but humility disposes them rather to speak
trembling. Hos. xiii. 1. "When Ephraim spake trem
bling, he exalted himself in Israel ; but when he offended
in Baal, he died." They are not apt to assume authority,
and to take upon them to be chief managers and masters ;
but rather to be subject to others; Jam. iii. 1, 2. "Be
not many masters." 1 Pet. v. 5. "All of you be subject
one to another, and be clothed with humility." Eph. v.
21. "Submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of
God." Some persons' experiences naturally make them think
highly of their experiences ; and they often speak of them
as very great and extraordinary ; they freely speak of the
great things they hare met with. This may be spoken and
meant in a good sense. In one sense, every degree of
saving mercy is a great thing : it is indeed a thing great,
yea, infinitely great, for God to bestow the least crumb of
children's bread on such dogs as we are in ourselves ; and
the more humble a person is that hopes that God has
bestowed such mercy on him, the more apt will he be to
call it a great thing that he has met with, in this sense.
But if by great things which they have experienced, they
mean comparatively great spiritual experiences, or great
compared with others' experiences, or beyond what is or
dinary, which is evidently oftentimes the case ; then for a
person to say, / have met with great things, is the very
same thing as to say, I am an eminent saint, and have
more grace than ordinary. To have great experiences, if
the experiences be true and worth telling, is the same thing
as to have great grace : there is no true experience, but the
exercise of grace ; and exactly according to the degree of
true experience, is the degree of grace and holiness. The
persons that talk thus about their experiences, when they
give an account of them, expect that others should admire
them. Indeed they do not call it boasting to talk after
this manner about their experiences, nor do they look upon
it as any sign of pride ; because they say, they know that
it was not theu that did it, it was free grace, they are the
great things that God has done for them, they would ac-
* " There be two things wherein it appears that a man has only common
gifts, and no inward principle ; I. These gifts ever puff up, and make a man
something in his own eyes, as the Corinthian knowledge did ; and many a
private man thinks himself fit to be a minister." Shepard's Parable, Part
I. p. 181,182.
T Calvin, in his Institutions, B. III. chap. xii. § 7. speaking of this Phari
see, observes, " That in his outward confession, he acknowledges that the
righteousness that he has is the giftof God : but (says he) because he trusts
that he is righteous, he goes away out of the presence of God, unaccept
able and odious."
X Luther, as his words are cited by Rutherford, in his Display of the spi
ritual Antichrist, p. 143, 144. says thus, " So is the life of a Christian, that
he that has begun seems to himself to have nothing ; but strives and presses
forward, that he may apprehend. Whence Paul says, I count not myself

knowledge the great mercy God has shown them, and not
make light of it. But so it was with the Pharisee, Luke
xviii. He in words gave God the glory of making him to
differ from other men ; " God, I thank thee," says he,
"that I am not as other men."f Their verbally ascribing
it to the grace of God, that they are holier than other
saints, does not hinder their forwardness to think so highly
of their holiness, being a sure evidence of the pride and
vanity of their minds. If they were under the influence
of an humble spirit, their attainments in religion would
not be so apt to shine in their own eyes, nor would they
be so much in admiring their own beauty. The Christians
that are really the most eminent saints, and therefore have
the mcst excellent experiences, "and are greatest in the
kingdom of heaven, humble themselves as a little child,"
Matt, xviii. 4. because they look on themselves as but
little children in grace, and their attainments to be but the
attainments of babes in Christ. They are astonished at,
and ashamed of, the low degrees of their love, their thank
fulness, and their little knowledge of God. — Moses, when
he had been conversing with God in the mount, and his
face shone so bright in the eyes of others as to dazzle their
eyes, wist not that his face shone. Some persons goby the
name of high professors, and some will own themselves to
be high professors ; but eminently humble saints that will
shine brightest in heaven, are not at all apt to profess high.
T do not believe there is an eminent saint in the world
that is a high professor. Such will be much more likely
to profess themselves to be the least of all saints, and to
think that every saint's attainments and experiences are
higher than his. J
Such is the nature of grace, and of true spiritual light,
that they naturally dispose the saints in the present state,
to look upon their grace and goodness little, and their de
formity great. And they that have the most grace and
spiritual light, of any in this world, have most of this
disposition. This will appear most clear and evident to
any one that soberly and thoroughly weighs the nature
and reason of things, and considers the things following.
That grace and holiness is worthy to be called little,
which is little in comparison of what it ought to be ; and
so it seems to one that is truly gracious. Such an one
has his eye upon the rule of his duty ; a conformity to
that is what he aims at ; it is what his soul reaches after ;
and it is by that he estimates and judges of what he does,
and what he has. To a gracious soul, and especially to
one eminently gracious, that holiness appears little, which
is little compared with what it should be ; little in com
parison of that for which he sees infinite reason and obli
gation. If his holiness appears to him to be at a vast
distance from this, it naturally appears despicable in his
eyes, and not worthy to be mentioned as any beauty or
amiableness in him. For the like reason as a hungry
man naturally accounts that which is set before him, but
a little food, a small matter, not worth mentioning, in
comparison of his appetite. Or as the child of a great
prince, who is jealous for the honour of his father, and
beholds the respect which men show him, naturally looks
on that honour and respect very little, and not worthy to
be regarded, which is nothing in comparison of that which
the dignity of his father requires.
The nature of true grace and spiritual light, opens to a
person's view the infinite reason there is that he should be
holy in a high degree. The more grace he has, the greater
sense he has of the infinite excellency and glory of the
Divine Being, the infinite dignity of the person of Christ,
and the boundless length and breadth, and depth and
height, of the love of Christ to sinners. And as grace
increases, the field opens more and more to a distant view,
to have apprehended. For indeed nothing is more pernicious to a believer,
than that presumption, that he has already apprehended, and has no further
need of seeking. Hence also many fall back, and pine away in spiritual
security and slothfulness. So Bernard says. To stand still in God's way, is
to go back. Wherefore this remains to him that has begun to be a Christian,
to think that he is not yet a Christian, but to seek that he may be a Chris
tian, that he may glory with Paul, I am not, but I desire to be; a Christian
not yet finished, but only in his beginnings. Therefore he is not a Christian,
that is, he that thinks himself a finished Christian, and is not sensible how
he falls short We reach after heaven, but are not in heaven. Woe to
him that is wholly renewed, that is, that thinks himself to be so. That man,
without doubt, has never so much as -begunlo be renewed, nor did he ever
taste what it is to be a Christian."

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Part III.

until the soul is swallowed up with the vastnesS of the
object ; the person is astonished to think how much it
becomes him to love this God, and this glorious Redeemer
who has so loved man, and how little he does love. And
so the more he apprehends, the more the smallness of his
grace and love appears strange and wonderful : and there
fore is more ready to think that others are beyond him.
Wondering at the littleness of his own grace, he can
scarcely believe that so strange a thing happens to other
saints. It is amazing to him, that one who is really a
child of God, and who has actually received the saving
benefits of the unspeakable love of Christ, should love no
more. He is apt to look upon it as a thing peculiar to
himself, a strange instance ; for he sees only the outside
of other Christians, but he sees his own inside.
Here the reader may possibly object, that love to God
is really increased in proportion as the knowledge of God
is increased ; and therefore how should an increase of
knowledge in a saint, make his love appear less, in com
parison of what is known ? To which I answer, that
although the love of God in the saints, be answerable to
the degree of knowledge or sight of God ; yet it is not in
proportion to the object seen and known. The soul of a
saint, by having something of God opened to sight, is con
vinced of much more than is seen. There is something
seen, that is wonderful ; and that sight brings with it a
Strong conviction of something vastly beyond, that is not
immediately seen. So that the soul, at the same time, is
astonished at its ignorance, and that it knows so little, as
well as that it loves so little. And as the soul, in a spi
ritual view, is convinced of infinitely more in the object,
yet beyond sight ; so it is convinced of the capacity of the
soul, of knowing vastly more, if clouds and darkness were
but removed. Which causes the soul, in the enjoyment
of a spiritual view, to complain greatly of spiritual igno
rance and want of love, and long after more knowledge,
and more love.
The love of God in the most eminent saints in this
world, is truly very little in comparison of what it ought
to be. Because the highest love that ever any attain to in
this life, is poor, cold, exceeding low, and not worthy to
be named in comparison of what our obligations appear
to be, from the joint consideration of these two things ;
viz. 1. The reason God has given us to love him, in the
manifestations he has made of his infinite glory, in his
word and works ; and particularly in the gospel of his
Son, and what he has done for sinful man by him. And,
2. The capacity there is in the soul of man, by those in
tellectual faculties which God has given it, of seeing and
understanding these reasons, which God has given us to
love him. flow small indeed is the love of the most
eminent saint on earth, in comparison of what these things
jointly considered do require I And of this, grace tends
to convince men ; and especially eminent grace : for grace
is of the nature of light, and brings truth to view. And
therefore he that has much grace, apprehends much more
than others, that great height to which his love ought to
ascend ; and he sees better than others, how little a way
he has risen towards that height. And therefore, estimat
ing his love by the whole height of his duty, hence it ap
pears astonishingly little and low in his eyes.
And the eminent saint, having such a conviction of the
high degree in which he ought to love God, is shown, not
only the littleness of his grace, but the greatness of his re
maining corruption. In order to judge how much corrup
tion or sin we have remaining in us, we must take our mea
sure from that height to which the rule of our duty extends.
The whole of the distance we are at from that height, is sin :
for failing of duty is sin ; otherwise our duty is not our
duty ; and by how much the more we fall short of our
duty, so much the more sin have we. Sin is no other
than disagreeableness, in a moral agent, to the law, or
rule of his duty. And therefore the degree of sin is to he
judged of by the rule ; so much disagreeableness to the
rule, so much sin, whether it be in defect or excess. There
fore if men, in their love to God, do not come up half
way to that height which duty requires, then they have
more corruption in their hearts than grace; because there
is more goodness wanting, than is there ; and all that is
wanting is sin. Sin is an abominable defect; and ap

pears so to the saints, especially those that are eminent ; it
appears exceeding abominable to them, that Christ should
be loved so little, and thanked so little for his dying love;
it is in their eyes hateful ingratitude.
And then the increase of grace has a tendency another
way, to cause the saints to think their deformity vastly
more than their goodness. It not only tends to convince
them that their corruption is much greater than their good-
nels, which is indeed the case ; but it also tends to cause
the deformity that there is in the least sin, or the least de
gree of corruption, to appear so great, as vastly to out
weigh all the beauty there is in their greatest holiness ; for
this also is indeed the case. For the least sin against an
infinite God, has an infinite hatefulness or deformity in
it; but the highest degree of holiness in a creature, has
not an infinite loveliness in it : and therefore the loveliness
of it is as nothing, in comparison of the deformity of the
least sin. That every sin has infinite deformity and hate-
fulness in it, is most demonstrably evident; because what
the evil, or iniquity, or hatefulness of sin consists in, is
the violating of an obligation, or the being or doing con
trary to what we should be or do, or are obliged to. And
therefore by how much the greater the obligation is that is
violated, so much the greater is the iniquity and hateful
ness of the violation. But certainly our obligation to love
and honour any being, is in some proportion to his loveli
ness and honourableness, or to his worthiness to be loved
and honoured by us ; which is the same thing. We are
surely under greater obligation to love a more lovely
being, than a less lovely : and if a Being be infinitely
lovely or worthy to be loved by us, then our obligations
to love him, are infinitely great : and therefore, whatever
is contrary to this love, has in it infinite iniquity, de
formity, and unworthiness. But on the other hand, with
respect to our holiness or love to God, there is not an in
finite worthiness in that. The sin of the creature against
God, is ill-deserving and hateful in proportion to the dis
tance there is between God and the creature : the great
ness of the object, and the meanness and inferiority of the
subject, aggravate it. But it is the reverse with regard to
the worthiness of the respect of the creature to God ; it
is worthless, and not worthy, in proportion to the mean
ness of the subject. So much the greater the distance
between God and the creature, so much the less is the
creature's respect worthy of God's notice or regard. The
great degree of superiority increases the obligation on the
inferior to regard the superior; and so makes the want of
regard more hateful: but the great degree' of inferiority
diminishes the worth ofthe regard of the inferior ; because
the more he is inferior— the less is he worthy of notice ;
the less he is — the less is what he can offer worth ; for he
can offer no more than himself, in offering his best re
spect ; and therefore as he is little, and little worth, so is
his respect little worth. And the more a person has of
true grace and spiritual light, the more will it appear thus
to him ; the more will he appear to himself infinitely de
formed by reason of sin, and the less will the goodness
that is in his grace, or good experience, appear in propor
tion to it. For indeed it is nothing to it ; it is less than a
drop to the ocean ; for finite bears no proportion at all to
that which is infinite. But the more a person has of spi
ritual light, the more do things appear to him, in this re
spect, as they are indeed. Hence it most demonstrably
appears, that true grace is of that nature, that the more a
person has of it, with remaining corruption, the less does
his goodness and holiness appear, in proportion to his de
formity ; and not only to his past, but to his present de
formity, in the sin that now appears in his heart, and in
the abominable defects of his highest and best affections,
and brightest experiences.
The nature of many high religious affections, and great
discoveries (as they are called) in many persons I have
been acquainted with, is to hide the corruption of their
hearts, and to make it seem to them as if all their sin was
gone, and to leave them without complaints of any hate-
' ful evil left in them ; (though it may be they cry out much
of their past unworthiness ;) a sure and certain evidence
that their discoveries are darkness and not light. It is
darkness that hides men's pollution and deformity ; but
light let into the heart discovers it, searches it out in its

Sect. VI.

THEY ARE ATTENDED WITH EVANGELICAL HUMILIATION.

299

secret corners, and makes it plainly to appear ; especially
that penetrating, all-searching light of God's holiness and
glory. It is true, that saving discoveries may for the pre
sent hide corruption in one sense; they restrain the posi
tive exercises of it, such as malice, envy, covetousness,
lasciviousness, murmuring, &c. but they bring corruption
to light, in that which is privative, viz. that there is no
more love, no more humility, no more thankfulness. Which
defects appear most hateful, in the eyes of those who have
the most eminent exercises of grace ; and are very burden
some, and cause the saints to complain of their leanness,
odious pride and ingratitude. And whatever positive ex
ercises of corruption at any time arise, and mingle them
selves with eminent actings of grace, grace will exceeding
ly magnify the view of them, and render their appearance
far more heinous and horrible.
The more eminent saints are, and the more they have
of the light of heaven in their souls, the more do they ap
pear to themselves, as the most eminent saints in this worid
do to the saints and angels in heaven. How can we ration
ally suppose the most eminent saints on earth appear to
them, if beheld any otherwise than covered with the righte
ousness of Christ, and their deformities swallowed up and
hid in the coruscation of the beams of his abundant glory
and love ? how can we suppose our most ardent love and
praises appear to them, who behold the beauty and glory
of God without a veil ? how does our highest thankfulness
for the dying love of Christ appear to them, who see
Christ as he is, who know as thev are known, and see the
glory of the person of him that died, and the wonders of
his dying love, without cloud or darkness ? and how do
they look on the deepest reverence and humility, with
which worms of the dust on earth approach that infinite
Majesty, which they behold ? do they appear great to them,
or so much as worthy of the name of reverence and hu
mility, in those whom they behold at such an infinite dis
tance from that great and holy God, in whose glorious
presence they are? The reason why the highest attain
ments of the saints on earth appear so mean to them, is that
they dwell in the light of God's glory, and see him as he is.
And it is in this respect with the saints on earth, as it is
with those in heaven, in proportion as they are more emi
nent in grace.
I would not be understood, that the saints on earth have,
in all respects, the worst opinion of themselves, when they
have most of the exercise of grace. In many respects it is
otherwise. With respect to the positive exercises of cor
ruption, they may appear to themselves freest and best
when grace is most in exercise, and worst when the actings
of grace are lowest. And when they compare themselves
with themselves, at different times, they may know, when
grace is in lively exercise, that it is better with them than
it was before ; (though before, at the time, they did not see
so much evil as they see now ;) and when afterwards they
sink again in the fiame of their minds, they may know
that they sink, and have a new argument of their great re
maining corruption, and a rational conviction of a greater
vileness than they saw before ; and may have a sense of
guilt, and a legal sense of their sinfulness, far greater than
when in the lively exercise of grace. But yet it is true,
and demonstrable from the forementioned considerations,
that the children of God never have such a sensible and
spiritual conviction of their deformity, and so great, quick,
and abasing sense of their present vileness and odiousness,
as when they are highest in the exercise of true grace ; and
never are they so much disposed to set themselves iow
among Christians as then. And thus he that is the great
est in the kingdom, or most eminent in the church of
Christ, is he that humbles himself, as the least infant among
them ; Matt, xviii. 4.
A true saint may know that he has some true grace : and
the more grace there is, the more easily is it known ; as was
observed and proved before. But yet it does not follow,
that an eminent saint is easily sensible that he is an emi
nent saint, when compared with others. — I will not deny
that it is possible, that he who has much grace, and is an
eminent saint, may know it. But he will not be apt to
know it ; it will not be obvious to him. That he is better
than others, and has higher experiences and attainments, is
not a foremost thought, nor does it readily offer itself. It

is not in his way, but lies far out of sight ; he must take
pains to convince himself of it ; there will be need of a
great command of reason, and a high degree of strictness
and care in arguing, to convince himself. And if he be
rationally convinced, by a very strict consideration of his
own experiences, compared with the great appearances of
low degrees of grace in some other saints, it will hardly
seem real to him, that he has more grace than they. He
will be apt even to lose the conviction he has by pains ob
tained; nor will it seem at all natural to him to act upon
that supposition. And this mav be laid down as an in
fallible thing, That the person who is apt to think that he,
as compared with others, Li a very eminent saint, much dis
tinguished in christian experience, in whom this is a first
thought, that rises of itself, and naturally offers itself; he is
certainly mistaken ; he is no eminent saint ; but under the
great prevailings of a proud and self-righteous spirit. And
if this be habitual with the man, and is statedly the pre
vailing temper of his mind, he is no saint at all; he has
not the least degree of any true christian experience; so
surely as the word of God is true.
Experiences of that tendency, and found to have this
effect, viz. to elevate the subject of them with a great con
ceit of those experiences, are certainly vain and delusive.
Those supposed discoveries that naturally blow up the
person with an admiration of the eminency of his dis
coveries, and fill him with conceit, that now he has seen,
and knows more than most other Christians, have nothing
ofthe nature of true spiritual light in them. All true
spiritual knowledge is of that nature, that the more a per
son has of it, the more is he sensible of his own ignorance ;
1 Cor. viii. 2. " He that thinketh he knoweth any thing,
knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know." Agur, when
he had a great discovery of God, the wonderful height of
his glory and his marvellous works, acknowledging his
greatness and incomprehensibleness ; had, at the same
time, the deepest sense of his brutish ignorance. He looked
upon himself as the most ignorant of all the saints ; Prov.
xxx. 2, 3, 4. " Surely I am more brutish than any man,
and have not the understanding of a man. I neither
learned wisdom, nor have the knowledge ofthe holy. Who
hath ascended up into heaven, or descended ? who hath
gathered the wind in his fist ? who hath bound the
waters in a garment ? who hath established all the ends of
the earth ? what is his name, and what is his Son's name,
if thou canst tell ?"
For a man to be highly conceited of his spiritual know
ledge, is for him to be wise in his own eyes, if any thing is.
And therefore it comes under those prohibitions, Prov. iii.
7. " Be not wise in thine own eyes :" Rom. xii. 1 6. " Be
not wise in your own conceits :" and brings men under that
woe, Isa. v. 21. " Woe unto them that are wise in their
own eyes, and prudent in their own sight." Those who
are thus wise, are some of the least likely to get good of
any in the world. Experience shows this truth, Prov.
xxvi. 12. " Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit?
there is more hope of a fool than of him."
To this some may object, that the psalmist, when we
must suppose that he was in a holy frame, speaks of his
knowledge as eminently great, and far greater than that of
other saints, Psal. cxix. 99, 100. " I have more under
standing than all my teachers : for thy testimonies are my
meditatior.. I understand more than the ancients : be
cause I keep thy precepts." To this I answer two things :
(1.) There is no restraint to be laid upon the Spirit of
God, as to what he shall reveal to a prophet, for the bene
fit of his church, who is speaking or writing under imme
diate inspiration. The Spirit of God may reveal to such
an one, and dictate to him to declare to others, secret things,
that otherwise would be hard, yea impossible for him to
find out. As he may reveal to him mysteries, which
otherwise would be above his reason ; or things in a dis
tant place, that he cannot see ; or future events, which it
would be impossible for him to know and declare, if they
were not extraordinarily revealed to him : so the Spirit of
God might reveal to David this distinguishing benefit
which he had received by conversing much with God's
testimonies ; and use him as his instrument to record it for
the benefit of others, to excite them to the like duty, and
to use the same means to gain knowledge. Nothing can be

300

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Part III.

gathered concerning the natural tendency ofthe ordinary
gracious influences of the Spirit of God, from what David
declares of his distinguishing knowledge under the extra
ordinary influences of God's Spirit, immediately dictating
to him what he pleased for the benefit of his church ; any
more than we can reasonably argue, that it is the natural
tendency of grace to incline men to wish the most dreadful
misery to others, because David under inspiration, often
prays that such misery may come upon them.
(2.) It is not certain that the knowledge David here
speaks of, is spiritual knowledge, wherein holiness funda
mentally consists. But it may be that greater revelation
which God made to hi m of the Messiah and his future king
dom, and the far more clear and extensive knowledge of
the mysteries and doctrines ofthe gospel, than others ; as a
reward for his keeping God's testimonies. In this, it is
apparent by the book of Psalms, that David far exceeded
all who had gone before him.
Secondly, Another infallible sign of spiritual pride, is
persons being apt to think highly of their humility. False
experiences are commonly attended with a counterfeit
humility. And it is the very nature of a counterfeit hu
mility, to be highly conceited • of itself. False religious
affections have generally a tendency, especially when
raised to a great height, to make persons think that their
humility is great, and accordingly to take much notice of
their great attainments in this respect, and admire them.
But eminently gracious affections (I scruple not to say it)
are evermore of a contrary tendency, and have universally
a contrary effect. They indeed make their possessors very
sensible that they should be deeply humbled, and cause
them earnestly to thirst and long after it ; but they make
their present humility, or that which they have already at
tained, to appear small ; and their remaining pride great,
and exceedingly abominable.
The reason why a proud person is apt to think his hu
mility great, and a very humble person his humility small,
may be easily seen, if it be considered, that it is natural
for persons, in judging of the degree of their own humi
liation, to take their measure from that which they esteem
their proper height, or the dignity wherein they properly
stand. That may be great humiliation in one, which is no
humiliation at all in another ; because the degree of
honourableness or considerableness, wherein each proper
ly stands, is very different. For some great man to stoop
to loose the ratchet of the shoes of another great man, his
equal, or to wash his feet, would be taken notice of as an
act of abasement in him ; and he being sensible of his
own dignity, would look upon it so himself. But if a
poor slave is seen stooping to unloose the shoes of a great
prince, nobody will take notice of this, as an act of humi
liation in him, or token of any great degree of humility :
nor would the slave himself, unless he be horribly proud,
and ridiculously conceited : and if after he had done it, he
should, in his talk and behaviour, show that he thought
his abasement great in it, and had his mind much upon
it, as an evidence of his being very humble ; would not
every body cry out, " Who do you think yourself to be,
that you should think this a mark of deep'humiliation ?"
This would make it plain to a demonstration, that the
slave was swollen with a high degree of pride and vanity
of mind, as much as if he declared in plain terms, I think
myself to be some great one. And the matter is no less
plain and certain, when worthless, vile, and loathsome
worms of the dust, are apt to put such a construction on
their acts of abasement before God ; and to think it a
token of great humility in them, that they acknowledge
themselves to be mean and unworthy, and behave them
selves as those who are so inferior. The very reason why
such outward acts, and such inward exercises, look like
great abasement in such a person is, that he has a high
conceit of himself. Whereas if he thought of himself more
justly, these things would appear nothing to him, and his
humility in them worthy of no regard ; but he would rather
be astonished at his pride, that one so infinitely despi-
ca le and vile, is brought no lower before God. When he
says in his heart, " This is a great act of humiliation ; it
is certainly a sign of great humility in me, that I should
feel thus, and do so :" his meaning is, " This is great
humility for me, for such a one as I, who am so consider

able and worthy." He considers how low he is now
brought, and compares this with the height of dignity, on
which he thinks he stands, and the distance appears very
great; he calls it humility, and as such admires it.
Whereas, in him who is truly humble, and really sees his
own vileness and loathsomeness before God, the distance
appears the other way. When he is brought lowest of all,
it does not appear to him that he is brought below his
proper station, but that he is not come to it ; he appears
to himself yet vastly above it ; he longs to get lower, that
he may come to it ; but appears at a great distance from
it. And this distance he calls pride. And therefore his
pride appears great to him, and not his humility. For
although he is brought much lower than he used to be ;
yet it does not appear to him worthy of the name of hu
miliation, for him that is so infinitely mean and detestable,
to come down to a place, which though it be lower than
what he used to assume, is yet vastly nigher than what is
proper for him. Men would hardly count it worthy of the
name of humility, in a contemptible slave, that formerly
affected to be a prince, to have his spirit so far brought
down, as to take the place of a nobleman ; when this is
still so far above his proper station.
All men, in judging of the degree of their own and
others' humility, as appearing in any act of theirs, consider
two things ; viz. the real degree of dignity they stand in ;
and the degree of abasement, with the relation it bears to
that real dignity. Thus, what may be an evidence of
great humility in one, evidences but little or no humility
in another. But truly humble Christians have so mean
an opinion of their own real dignity, that all their self-
abasement, when considered with relation to, and com
pared with that, appears very small to them. It does not
seem to them to be any great humility, for such poor, vile,
abject creatures as they are, to lie at the foot of God.
The degree of humility is to be judged of by the de
gree of abasement, and the degree of the cause for abase
ment : but he that is truly and eminently humble, never
thinks his humility great. The cause why he should be
abased appears so great, and the abasement of the frame
of his heart so greatly short of it, that he takes much more
notice of his pride than his humility.
Every one that has been conversant with souls under
convictions of sin, knows that they are not apt to think
themselves greatly convinced. And the reason is, men
judge of the degree of their own convictions by two things
jointly considered ; viz. the degree of sense which they
have of guilt and pollution, and the degree of cause they
have for such a sense,, in the degree of their real sinful
ness. It is really no argument of any great conviction of
sin, for some men to think themselves sinful, beyond most
others in the world ; because they are so indeed, very
plainly and notoriously : he must be very blind indeed
not to be sensible of it. But he that is truly under great
convictions of sin, naturally thinks, that the cause, he has
to be sensible of guilt and pollution, is greater than others
have ; and therefore he ascribes his sensibleness of this, to
the greatness of his sin, and not to the greatness of his
sensibility. It is natural for one under great convictions,
to think himself one of the greatest of sinners. That man
is under great convictions, whose conviction is great in
proportion to his sin. But no man that is truly under great
convictions, thinks his conviction great in proportion to his
sin. For if he does, it is a certain sign that he inwardly
thinks his sins small. And if that be the case, that is a cer
tain evidence that his conviction is small. And this, by the
way, is the main reason, that persons, when under a work
of humiliation, are not sensible of it, in the time of it.
And as it is with conviction of sin, just so it is, by
parity of reason, with respect to persons' conviction of
their own meanness and vileness, their blindness, their im
potence, and all that low sense a Christian has of himself,
in the exercise of evangelical humiliation. So that in a
high degree of this, the saints are never disposed to think
their sense of their own meanness, filthiness, impotence,
&c. to be great ; because it never appears great to them,
considering the cause.
An eminent saint is not apt to think himself eminent in
any thing ; all his graces and experiences appear to him
to be comparatively small ; but especially his humility.

Sect. VI.

THEY ARE ATTENDED WITH EVANGELICAL HUMILIATION.

301

Nothing that appertains to christian experience, and true
piety, is so much out of his sight. He is a thousand
times more quick-sighted to discern his pride, than his
humility. On the contrary, the deluded hypocrite, who
is under the power of spiritual pride, is so blind to no
thing as his pride ; and so quick-sighted to nothing, as the
shows of humility.
The humble Christian is more apt to find fault with his
own pride than with that of other men. He is apt to put
the best construction on others' words and behaviour, and
to think that none are so proud as himself. But the
Eroud hypocrite is quick to discern the mote in his
rother's eye, in this respect ; while he sees nothing of the
beam in his own. He is very often crying out of others'
pride, finding fault with others' apparel, and way of living ;
and is affected ten times as much with his neighbour's ring
or riband, as with all the filthiness of his own heart.
From the disposition there is in hypocrites to think
highly of their humility, it comes to pass that counterfeit
humility is forward to put forth itself to view. Those who
have it, are apt to be much in speaking of their humiliations,
setting them forth in high terms, and making a great out
ward show of humility, in affected looks, gestures, manner
of speech, meanness of apparel, or some affected singu
larity. So it was of old with the false prophets, Zech. xiii.
4. so it was with the hypocritical Jews, Isa. lvii. 5. and
so Christ tells us it was with the Pharisees, Matt. vi. 16.
But it is contrariwise with true humility ; they who have
it, are not apt to display their eloquence in setting it forth,
or to speak of the degree of their abasement in strong
terms.* It does not affect to show itself in any singular
meanness either of apparel, or way of living ; agreeable to
what is implied in Matt. vi. 17. " But thou, when thou
fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face." Col. ii. 23.
" Which things have indeed a show of wisdom in will-
worship and humility, and neglecting of the body." Nor
is true humility a noisy thing ; it is not loud and boister
ous. The Scripture represents it as of a contrary nature.
Ahab, when he had a visible humility, a resemblance of
true humility, went softly, 1 Kings xxi. 27. A penitent,
in the exercise of true humiliation, is represented as still
and silent, Lam. iii. 28. " He sitteth alone and keepeth
silence, because he hath borne it upon him." And silence
is mentioned as what attends humility, Prov. xxx. 32.
" If thou hast done foolishly in lifting up thyself, or if
thou hast thought evil, lay thine hand upon thy mouth."
Thus I have particularly and largely shown the nature
of that true humility which attends holy affections, as it
appears in its tendency to cause persons to think meanly
of their attainments in religion, compared with the attain
ments of others, and particularly, of their attainments in
humility : and have shown the contrary tendency of spi
ritual pride, to dispose persons to think their attainments
in these respects to be great. I have insisted the longer
on this, because I think it a matter of great importance, as
it affords a certain distinction between true and counter
feit humility ; and also as this disposition of hypocrites —
whereby they look on themselves as better than others — is
what God has declared to be very hateful to him, a smoke
in his nose, and a fire that burneih all the day, Isa. Ixv. 5.
It is mentioned as an instance of pride in the inhabitants
of that holy city (as it was called) Jerusalem, that they
esteemed themselves far better than the people of Sodom ;
Ezek. xvi. 56. " For thy sister Sodom was not mentioned
by thy mouth in the day of thy pride."
Let not the reader slightly pass over these things in ap
plication to himself. When you imagine, reader, that it is
a bad sign for a person to be apt to think himself a better
saint than others, take heed lest there arise a blinding pre-
* It is an observation of Mr. Jones, in his excellent treatise of the canon
ofthe New Testament, that the evangelist Mark — who was the companion
of St Peter, and is supposed to have written his gospel under the direction
of that apostle— when he mentions Peter's repentance after his denying his
Master, does not use such strong terms to set it forth as the other evange
lists ; he only uses these words. When he thought thereon, he wept, Mark
xiv. 72. whereas the other evangelists say thus, He went out and wept
bitterly. Malt xxvi. 75. Luke xxn. 62.
t "1 his spirit ever keeps a man poor and vile in his own eyes, and empty
— When the man hath got some knowledge, and can discourse pretty well,
and hath some tastes of the heavenly gift, some sweet illapses of grace, and
so his conscience is pretty weli quieted: and if he hath got some answer to
his prayers, and hath sweet affections, he grows full : and having ease to
his conscience, casts off sense, and daily groaning under sin. And hence the
spirit of prayer dies : he loses his esteem of God's ordinances ; feels not such

judice in your own favour. There will probably be need
of great strictness of self-examination, in order to determine
whether it be so with you. If you conclude thus, It
seems to me, none are so bad as I. Do not let the matter
pass off so ; but examine again, whether or no you do not
think yourself better than others on this very account, be
cause you imagine you think so meanly of yourself. Have
not you a high opinion of this humility? If you answer,
No ; 1 have not _ high, opinion of my humility ; it seems
to me I am as proud as the devil : examine again, whether
self-conceit do not rise up under this cover; whether on
this very account — that you think yourself as proud as the
devil — you do not think yourself to be very humble.
From this opposition between the nature of a true and
of a counterfeit humility, as to the esteem that the sub
jects of them have of themselves, arises a manifold contra
riety of temper and behaviour. A truly humble person,
having such a mean opinion of his righteousness and holi
ness, is poor in spirit. For a person to be poor in spirit,
is to be in his own sense and apprehension poor, as to
what is in him, and to be of an answerable disposition.
Therefore a truly humble person, especially one eminently
humble, naturally behaves himself in many respects as a
poor man. The poor useth entreaties, but the rich answer-
eth roughly. A poor man is not disposed to quick and
high resentment when he is among the rich. He is apt to
yield to others, for he knows others are above him ; nor is
he stiff and self-willed. He is patient with hard fare, ex
pects no other than to be despised, and takes it patiently.
He does not take it heinously that he is overlooked, and
but little regarded ; but is prepared to be in a low place ;
readily honours his superiors, and takes reproofs quietly.
He easily yields to be taught, and does not claim much
to his understanding and judgment ; he is not over nice or
humoursome, and has his spirit subdued to hard things ;
he is not assuming, nor apt to take much upon him, but
it is natural for him to be subject to others. Thus it is
with the humble Christian. Humility is (as the great
Mastricht expresses it) a kind qflioly pusillanimity. A
man that is very poor is a beggar ; so is he that is poor in
spirit. This constitutes a great difference between those
affections that are gracious, and those that are false : under
the former, the person continues still a poor beggar at
God's gates, exceeding empty and needy ; but the latter
make men appear to themselves rich, and increased with
goods, and not very necessitous ; they have a great stock
in their own imagination for their subsistence.f
A poor man is modest in his speech and behaviour ;
much more, and more certainly and universally, is one
that is poor in spirit, humble and modest in his behaviour
amongst men. It is in vain for any to pretend that they
are humble, and as little children before God, when they
are haughty, assuming, and impudent in their behaviour
amongst men. The apostle informs us, that the design of
the gospel is to cut off all glorying, not only before God, but
also before men, Rom. iv. 1,2. Some pretend to great
humiliation, while yet they are very haughty, audacious,
and assuming in their external appearance and behaviour :
but they ought to consider those scriptures, Psal. cxxxi. 1.
" Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty :
neither do I exercise myself in great matters, or in things
too high for me." Prov. vi. 16, 17. " These six things
doth the Lord hate : yea, seven are an abomination unto
him : a proud look," &c. — Chap. xxi. 4. " An high look,
and a proud heart, are sin." Psal. xviii. 27. " Thou wilt
bring down high looks." And Psal. ci. 5. " Him that
hath an high look, and a proud heart, I will not suffer."
1 Cor. xiii. 4. " Charity vaunteth not itself, doth not be
have itself unseemly." There is a certain amiable modesty
need of them ; or gets no good, feels no life or power by them. This is the
woful condition of some ; but yet they know it not. But now he that is
filled with the Spirit, the Lord empties him : and the more, the longer he
lives. So that though others think he needs not much grace ; yet he ac
counts himself the poorest." Sheperd's Parable of the Ten Virgins, Part
II. p. 132.
" After all fillings, he ever empty, hungry, and feeling need, and praying
for more." Ibid. p. 151.
" Truly, brethren, when I see the curse of God upon many Christians,
that are now grown full of their parts, gifts, peace, comforts, abilities,
duties, I stand adoring the riches of the Lord's mercy, to a little handful of
poor believers ; not only in making them empty, but in keeping them so all
their days." Shepard's Sound Believer, the late edition in Boston, p. 158,
159.

302

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

and fear that belongs to a christian behaviour among men,
arising from humility, of which the Scripture often speaks ;
1 Pet. iii. 15. " Be ready to give an answer toevery man that
asketh you, with meekness and fear." Rom. xiii. 7. " Fear,
to whom fear." 2 Cor. vii. 15. " Whilst he remembereth
the obedience of you all, how with fear and trembling you
received him." Eph. vi. 5. " Servants, be obedient to
them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear
and trembling." 1 Pet. ii. 18. " Servants, be subject to
your masters with all fear." 1 Pet. iii. 2. " While they
behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear." 1 Tim.
ii. 9. " That women adorn themselves in modest apparel,
with shamefacedness and sobriety." In this respect a
Christian is like a little child ; a little child is modest
before men, and his heart is apt to be possessed with fear
and awe amongst them.
The same spirit will dispose a Christian to honour all
men ; 1 Pet. ii. 17. " Honour all men." An humble Chris
tian is not only disposed to honour the saints in his be
haviour ; but others also, in all those ways that do not
imply a visible approbation of their sins. Thus Abraham,
the great pattern of believers, honoured the children of
Heth ; Gen. xxiii. 11, 12." Abraham stood up, and bowed
himself to the people of the land." This was a remarkable
instance of an humble behaviour towards them whom Abra
ham knew to be accursed ; for which cause he would by
no means suffer his servant to take a wife to his son from
among them ; and for which cause also Esau's wives, being
of these children of Heth, were a grief of mind to Isaac
and Rebekah. So Paul honoured Festus, Acts xxvi. 25.
" I am not mad, most noble Festus." Not only will
christian humility dispose persons to honour wicked men
out of the visible church, but also false brethren and perse
cutors. Jacob, when he was in an excellent frame — hav
ing just been wrestling all night with God, and received the
blessing — honoured Esau, his false and persecuting brother;
Gen. xxxiii. 3. "Jacob bowed himself to the ground seven
times, until he came near to his brother Esau." So he
called him lord : and commanded all his family to honour
him in like manner.
Thus I have endeavoured to describe the heart and be
haviour of one who is governed by a truly gracious humi
lity as exactly agreeable to the Scriptures as I am able.
Now, it is out of such a heart as this, that all truly holy
affections flow. Christian affections are like Mary's pre
cious ointment poured on Christ's head, that filled the
whole house with a sweet odour. That was poured out
of an alabaster box ; so gracious affections flow out to
Christ out of apure heart. That was poured out of a broken
box ; (until the box was broken, the ointment could not
flow, nor diffuse its odour ;) so gracious affections flow out
of a broken heart. Gracious affections are also like those
of Mary Magdalene, (Luke vii. at the latter end,) who in
like manner pours precious ointment on Christ, out of an
alabaster broken box, anointing therewith the feet of Jesus,
when she had washed them with her tears, and wiped them
with the hair of her head. All gracious affections, which
are a sweet odour to Christ, filling the soul of a Christian
with a heavenly sweetness and fragrancy, are broken
hearted affections. A truly Christian love, either to God
or men, is an humble broken-hearted love. The desires of
the saints, however earnest, are humble desires ; their hope
is an humble hope; and their joy, even when it is unspeak
able and full of glory, is an humble, broken-hearted joy,
leaving the Christian more poor in spirit, more like a little
child, and more disposed to an universal lowliness of be
haviour. SECT. VII.
Another thing, wherein gracious affections are distinguished
from others, is, that they are attended with a change of
nature.
All gracious affections arise from a spiritual understand
ing, in which the soul has the excellency and glory of
* " I would not judge of the whole soul's coming to Christ, so much by
sudden pangs, as by an inward bent For the whole soul, in affectionate
expressions and actions, may be carried to Christ; but being without this
bent, and change of affections, is unsound." — Shepard's Parable, Part I.
p. 203.
t " It is with the sou], as with water; all the cold may be gone, but the

divine things discovered to it, as was shown before. But
all spiritual discoveries are also transforming. They not
only make an alteration of the present exercise, sensation,
and frame of the soul ; but such is their power and effi
cacy, that they alter its very nature; 2 Cor. iii. 18. " But
we all with open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of
the Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to
glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." Such power as
this, is properly divine, and is peculiar to the Spirit ofthe
Lord. Other power may make a great alteration in men's
present frames and feelings ; but it is the power of a Creator
only that can change the nature. And no discoveries or
illuminations, but those that are divine and supernatural,
will have this supernatural effect. But this effect all those
discoveries have, that are truly divine. The soul is deeply
affected by these discoveries ; so affected, as to be trans
formed. Thus it is with those affections of which the soul is the sub
ject in its conversion. The scriptural representations of con
version, strongly imply and signify a change of nature : such
as being born again ; becoming new creatures ; rising from the
dead ; being renewed in the spirit of the mind ; dying to sin,
and living to righteousness ; putting off the old man, and
putting on the new man ; being ingrafted into a new stock ;
having a divine seed implanted in the heart ; being made
partakers of the divine nature, Stc.
Therefore if there be no great and remarkable abiding
change in persons, who think they have experienced a work
of conversion, vain are all their imaginations and pretences,
however they may have been affected.* Conversion (if we
may give any credit to the Scripture) is a great and univer-
salchange of the man, turning him from sin to God. A
man may be restrained from sin, before he is converted ;
but when he is converted, his very heart and nature is
turned from it unto holiness : so that thenceforward he be
comes a holy person, and an enemy to sin. If, therefore,
after a person's high affections at his supposed first conver
sion, it happens that in a little time there is no very re
markable alteration in him, as to those bad qualities and
evil habits which before were visible in him — and lie is
ordinarily under the prevalence of the same kind of dispo
sitions as heretofore, and the same things seem to belong to
his character, he appearing as selfish, carnal, stupid, and
perverse, unchristian, and unsavoury as ever — it is greater
evidence against him, than the brightest story of experi
ences that ever was told can be for him. For in Christ
Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision, neither
high profession nor low profession, neither a fair story
nor a broken one, avails any thing ; but a new creature.
If there be a very great alteration visible in a person for a
while ; yet if it be not abidine, but he afterwards return,
in a stated manner, to his former habits ; it appears to be
no change of nature ; for nature is an abiding thing. A
swine may be washed, but the swinish nature remains ; a
dove may be defiled, but its cleanly nature remains.-t'
Allowances, indeed, must be made for the natural tem
per, which conversion does not entirely eradicate : those
sins which a man by his natural constitution was most in
clined to before his conversion, he may be most apt to fall
into still. But yet conversion will make a great alteration
even with respect to these sins. Though grace, while im
perfect, does not root out an evil natural temper, yet it is
of great power and efficacy to correct it. The change
wrought m conversion, is an universal change : grace
changes a man with respect to whatever is sinful in him ;
the old man is put off, and the new man put on ; he is
sanctified throughout. He is become a new creature, old
things are passed away, and all things are become new; all
sin is mortified, constitutional sins, as well as others. If a
man before his conversion was, by his natural constitution,
prone to lasciviousness, or drunkenness, or maliciousness ;
converting grace will make a great alteration in him, with
respect to these evil dispositions ; so that however he may
be still most in danger of these sins, they shall no longer
have dominion over him ; nor will they any more be pro-
native principle of cold remains still. You may remove the burning of
lusts, not the blackness of nature. Where the power of sin lies, change of
conscience from security to terror, change of life from profaneness to
civility, and fashions of the world, to escape the pollutions thereof, change
of lusts, nay quenching them for a time : but the nature is never changed,
in the best hypocrite that ever was." — Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 194.

Sect. VII.

THEY ARE ATTENDED WITH CHANGE OF NATURE.

303

perly his character. Yes, true repentance, in some respects
especially, turns a man against his own iniquity ; that
wherein he has been most guilty, and has chiefly dis
honoured God. He that forsakes other sins, but preserves
the iniquity to which he is chiefly inclined, is like Saul,
who, when sent against God's enemies the Amalekites,
with a strict charge to save none of them alive, but utterly
to destroy them, small and great ; slew the people, but
saved the king.
Some foolishly make it an argument in favour of their
discoveries and affections, that when they are gone, they
are left wholly without any life or sense, or any thing be
yond what they had before. They think it an evidence
that what they experienced was wholly of God, and not of
themselves, because (say they) when God is departed, all
is gone ; they can see and feel nothing, and are no better
than they used to be. It is very true, that all grace and
goodness in the hearts of the saints is entirely from God ;
and they are universally and immediately dependent on
him for it. But yet these persons are mistaken, as to the
manner of God's communicating himself and his Holy
Spirit, in imparting saving grace to the soul. He gives his
Spirit to be united to the faculties of the soul, and to
dwell there after the manner of a principle of nature : so
that the soul, in being endued with grace, is endued with
a new nature : but nature is an abiding thing. All the
exercises of grace are entirely from Christ : but are not
from him as a living agent moves and stirs what is without
life, and which yet remains lifeless. The soul has life
communicated to it, so as through Christ's power to have
inherent in itself a vital nature. In the soul where Christ
savingly ii, there he lives. He does not merely live with
out it, so as violently to actuate it, but he lives in it, so
that the soul also is alive. Grace in the soul is as much
from Christ, as the light in a glass, held out in the sun
beams, is from the sun. But this represents the manner
of the communication of grace to the soul but in part;
because the glass remaining as it was, the nature of it not
being at all changed, it is as much without any lightsome-
ness in its nature as ever. But the soul of a saint receives
light from the sun of righteousness in such a manner,
that its nature is changed, and it becomes properly a lu
minous thing. Not only does the sun shine in the saints,
but they also become little suns, partaking of the nature of
the fountain of their light. In this respect, the manner of
their derivation of light, is like that of the lamps in the
tabernacle, rather than that of a reflecting glass ; which
though they were lit up by fire from heaven, yet thereby
became themselves burning, shining things. The saints do
not only drink of the water of life, that flows from the
original fountain ; but this water becomes a fountain of
water in them, springing up there, and flowing out of them,
John iv. 14. and chap. vii. 38, 39. Grace is compared to
a seed implanted, that not only is in the ground, but has
hold of it; has root there, grows there, and is an abiding
principle of life and nature there.
As it is with spiritual discoveries and affections given at
first conversion, so it is in all subsequent illuminations and
affections of that kind, they are all transforming. There is
a like divine power and energy in them, as in the first dis
coveries : and they still reach the bottom of the heart, and
affect and alter the very nature of the soul, in proportion
to the degree in which they are given. And a transform
ation of nature is continued and carried on by them, to
the end of life, until it is brought to perfection in glory.
Hence the progress of the work of grace in the hearts of
the saints, is represented in Scripture as a continued con
version and renovation of nature. So the apostle exhorts
those that were at Rome, beloved of God, called to be
saints — the subjects of God's redeeming mercies — to be
transformed by the renewing of their mind, Rom. xii. 1, 2.
" I beseech you therefore, by the mercies of God, that ye
present your bodies a living sacrifice ; — and be not con
formed to this world : but be ye transformed by the renew
ing of your mind." (Compared with chap. i. 7.) So the
apostle, writing to the saints and faithful in Christ Jesus,
who were at Ephesus, (Eph. i. iff- who " were once dead
in trespasses and sins, but now quickened, raised up, made
* " Do you think the Holy Ghost comes on a man, as on Balaam, by im-

to sit together in heavenly places in Christ, and created in
Christ Jesus unto good works ; who were once far off, but
now made nigh by the blood of Christ : who were no more
strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints,
and of the household of God ; who were built together for
an habitation of God through the Spirit ;"— tells them,
" that he ceased not to pray for them, that God would give
them the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, in the knowledge
of Christ : the eyes of their understanding being enlight
ened, that they might know (or experience) what was the
exceeding greatness of God's power towards them that be
lieve, according to the working of his mighty power, which
he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead,
and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places,"
Eph. i, 16, to the end. In this the aposlle has respect to
the glorious power and work of God in converting and re
newing the soul ; as is most plain by the sequel. So the
apostle exhorts the same persons " to put off the old man,
which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts : and be
renewed in the spirit of their minds : and put on the new
man, which after God is created in righteousness and true
holiness," Eph. iv. 22, 23, 24.
There is a sort of high affections which leave persons
without any appearance of an abiding effect. They go off
suddenly ; so that from the very height of their emo
tion, and seeming rapture, they pass at once to be quite
dead, and void of all sense and activity. It surely is not
wont to be thus with high gracious affections ;* they leave
a sweet savour and relish of divine things on the heart,
and a stronger bent of the soul towards God and holiness.
As Moses's face not only shone while he was in the mount,
extraordinarily conversing with God, but it continued to
shine after he came down from the mount. When men
have been conversing with Christ in an extraordinary man
ner, a sensible effect of it remains upon them ; there is
something remarkable in their disposition and frame, of
which if we take knowledge, and trace to its cause, we
shall find it is because they have been with Jesus, Acts
iv. 13.

SECT. VIII.
Truly gracious affections differ from those that are false and
delusive, in that they naturally beget and promote such a
spirit of love, meekness, quietness, forgiveness, and mercy,
as appeared in Christ.
The evidence of this in the Scripture is very abundant.
If we judge of the nature of Christianity, and the proper
spirit of the gospel, by the word of God, this spirit is what
may, by way of eminency, be called the christian spirit ;
and may be looked upon as the true and distinguishing
disposition of tbe hearts of Christians, as such. When
some of the disciples of Christ said something, through
inconsideration and infirmity, that was not agreeable to
such a spirit, he told them that they knew not what manner
of spirit they were of, Luke ix. 55. implying, that this spirit
of which I am speaking, is the proper spirit of his religion
and kingdom. All real disciples of Christ have this spirit
in them ; and not only so, but they are of this spirit; it
is the spirit by which they are so possessed and governed,
that it is their true and proper character. This is evident
by what the wise man says, Prov. xvii. 27. (having respect
plainly to such a spirit as this,) " A man of understanding
is of an excellent spirit ;" and by the particular description
Christ gives of the qualities and temper of such as are
truly blessed, that shall obtain mercy, and are God's chil
dren and heirs, Matt. v. " Blessed are the meek : for they
shall inherit the earth. Blessed are the merciful : for they
shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the peace-makers : for
they shall be called the children of God." And that this
spirit is the special character of the elect of God, is mani
fest by Col. iii. 12, 13. " Put on therefore as the elect of
God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness,
humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering ; forbearing
one another, and forgiving one another." The apostle dis
coursing of that temper and disposition which he speaks
mediate acting, and then leaves him, and then he has nothing ?— Shepard's
Parable, Part I. p. 126.

304

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

of, as the most excellent and essential thing in Christianity
— that without which none are true Christians, and the
most glorious profession and .gifts are nothing, calling this
spirit by the name of charity— describes it thus ; (1 Cor.
xiii. 4, 5.) " Charity suffered, long, and is kind ; charity
envieth not ; charity vaunteth not itself; is not puffed up;
doth not behave itself unseemly ; seeketh not her own ;
is not easily provoked ; thinketh no evil." And the same
apostle, (Gal. v.) designedly declaring the distinguishing
marks and fruits of true christian grace, chiefly insists on
the things that appertain to such a temper and spirit, (ver.
22, 23.) " The fruit ofthe Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suf
fering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance."
And so does the apostle James in describing true grace, or that
wisdom that is from above, with that declared design, that
others who are of a contrary spirit may not deceive them
selves — and lie against the truth, in professing to be Chris
tians, when they are not — James iii. 14 — 17. " If ye have
bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not, and lie
not against the truth. This wisdom descendeth not from
above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish. For where envy
ing and strife is, there is confusion, and every evil work.
But the wisdom that is from above, is first pure, then
peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy
and good fruits."
Every thing that appertains to holiness of heart, does in
deed belong to the nature of true Christianity, and the
character of Christians ; but a spirit of holiness, as
appearing in some particular graces, may more especially
be called the christian spirit or temper. Some amiable
qualities and virtues more especially agree with the nature
of the gospel constitution, and christian profession ; be
cause there is a special agreeableness in them with those
divine attributes which God has more remarkably mani
fested and glorified in the work of redemption by Jesus
Christ, the grand subject of the christian revelation.
There is also a special agreeableness with those virtues
which were so wonderfully exercised by Jesus Christ
towards us in that affair, and the blessed example he hath
therein set us. And they are peculiarly agreeable to the
special drift and design of the work of redemption, the
benefits we thereby receive, and the relation that it brings
us into, to God and one another. And what are these
virtues but such as humility, meekness, love, forgiveness,
and mercy ; which belong to the character of Christians,
as such ?
These things are spoken of as what are especially the
character of Jesus Christ himself, the great head of the
christian church. They are so spoken of in the prophecies
of the Old Testament ; as in that cited Matt. xxi. 5. " Tell
ye the daughter of Sion, Behold, thy King cometh unto
thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt, the foal of
an ass." So Christ himself speaks of them, Matt. xi. 29.
" Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart." The
same appears by the name by which Christ is so often
called in Scripture, viz. The Lamb. And as these things
are especially the character of Christ; so they are also
especially the character of Christians. Christians are
Christ-like ; none deserve the name who are not so in their
prevailing character. " The new man is renewed, after the
image of him that created him," Col. iii. 10. All true
Christians " behold as in a glass the glory of the Lord,
and are changed into the same image, by his Spirit,"
2 Cor. iii. 18. The elect are all " predestinated to be con
formed to the image of the Son of God, that he might be
the first-born among many brethren," Rom. viii. 29. " As
we have borne the image of the first man, that is earthy,
so we must also bear the image of the heavenly : for as is
the earthy, such are they also that are earthy ; and as is the
heavenly, such are they also that are heavenly," 1 Cor.
xv. 47 — 49. Christ is full of grace ; and Christians all
receive of his fulness, and grace for grace ; i. e. there is
grace in Christians answering to grace in Christ, such an
answerableness as there is between the wax and the seal.
There is character for character ; such kind of graces, such
a spirit and temper ; the same things that belong to Christ's
character belong to theirs. In that disposition wherein
Christ's character in a special manner consists, does his
image in a special manner consist. Christians who shine
by reflecting the light of the Sun of righteousness, shine

with the same sort of brightness, the same mild, sweet, and
pleasant beams. These lamps of the spiritual temple,
enkindled by fire from heaven, burn with the same sort of
flame. The branch is of the same nature with the stock
and root, has the same sap, and bears the same sort of
fruit. The members have the same kind of life with the
head. It would be strange if Christians should not be of
the same temper and spirit with that of Christ ; when they
are his flesh and his bone, yea, are one spirit, 1 Cor. vi. 17.
and so live, that it is not they tftat live, but Christ that
lives in them. A christian spirit is Christ's murk, which
he sets upon the souls of his people ; his seal in their
foreheads, bearing his image and superscription. Chris
tians are the followers of Christ, as they are obedient to
that call of Christ, Matt. xi. 28, 29. " Come to me, and
learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart." They
follow him as the Lamb ; Rev. xiv. 4. " These are they
which follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth." True
Christians are as it were clothed with the meek, quiet, and
loving temper of Christ ; for as many as are in Christ,
have put on Christ. And in this respect the church is
clothed with the sun, not only by being clothed with his
imputed righteousness, but also by being adorned with his
graces, Rom. xiii. 14. Christ the great Shepherd is him
self a lamb, and believers are also lambs ; all the flock
are lambs ; John xxi. 15. " Feed my lambs." Luke x. 3.
" I send you forth as lambs in the midst of wolves." The
redemption of the church by Christ from the power of the
devil, was typified of old by David's delivering the lamb
out of the mouth of the lion and the bear.
That such virtue is the very nature of the christian spirit,
or the spirit that worketh in Christ and in his members, is
evident by this, that the dove is the very symbol or emblem,
chosen of God to represent it. Those things are the fittest
emblems of other things, which best represent that which
is most distinguishing in their nature. The Spirit that
descended on Christ, when he was anointed of the Father,
descended on him like a dove. The dove is a noted emblem
of meekness, harmlessness, peace, and love. But the
same Spirit that descended on the head of the church,
descends to the members. " God hath sent forth the
Spirit of his Son into their hearts," Gal. iv. 6. And " if
any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his."
Rom. viii. 9. There is but one Spirit to the whole mystical
body, head and members, (1 Cor. vi. 17. Eph. iv. 4.)
Christ breathes his own Spirit on his disciples, John xx.
22. As Christ was anointed with the Holy Ghost, de
scending on him like a dove, so Christians " have an
anointing from the Holy One," 1 John ii. 20, 27. They
are anointed with the same oil ; it is the same " precious
ointment on the head, that goes down to the skirts of the
garments." And on both it is a spirit of peace and love :
Ps. cxxxiii. 1, 2. " Behold, how good and pleasant it is,
for brethren to dwell together in unity ! It is like the
precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the
beard, even Aaron's beard, that went down to the skirts of
his garments." The oil on Aaron's garments, had the
same sweet and inimitable odour with that on his head ;
the smell of the same sweet spices. Christian affections,
and a christian behaviour, are the flowing out of the savour
of Christ's sweet ointments. Because the church has a
dove-like temper and disposition, therefore it is said of her
that she has doves' eyes, Cant. i. 15. " Behold thtfu art
fair, my love ; behold, thou art fair, thou hast doves' eyes."
And chap. iv. 1. " Behold, thou art fair, my love, behold,
thou art fair, thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks." The
same is said of Christ, chap. vi. 12. " His eyes are as the
eyes of doves." And the church is frequently compared
to a dove, Cant. ii. 14. " O my dove, that art in the clefts
of the rock."— Chap. v. 2. " Open to me, my love, my
dove." And chap. vi. 9. " My dove, my undented is but
one." Ps. lxvm. 1 3. " Ye shall be as the wings of a dove
covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold."
And lxxiv. 19. " O deliver not the soul of thy turtle-dove
unto the multitude of the wicked." The dove that Noah
sent out of the ark— that could find no rest for the sole of
her foot until she returned — was a type of a true saint.
Meekness is so much the character of the saints that
the meek and the godly are used as synonymous terms in
Scripture : so Ps. xxxvii. 10, 1 1 . the wicked and the meek

Sect. VIII.

THEY BEGET AND PROMOTE THE TEMPER OF JESUS.

305

are set in opposition, as wicked and godly, " Yet a little
while and the wicked shall not be : but the meek shall in
herit the earth." So Ps. cxlvii. 6. " The Lord lifteth up
the meek : he casteth the wicked down to the ground."
It is doubtless very much on this account, that Christ
represents all his disciples, though the heirs of heaven, as
little children: Matt. xix. 14. "Suffer little children to
come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of such is the
kingdom of heaven." Matt. x. 42. " Whosoever shall give
to drink unto one of those little ones a cup of cold water,
in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall
in no wise lose his reward." Matt, xviiii. 6. " Whoso
shall offend one of these little ones," &c. Ver. 10. " Take
heed that ye despise not one of these little ones." Ver.
14. " It is not the will of your Father which is in heaven,
that one of these little ones should perish." John xiii. 33.
" Little children, yet a little while I am with you." Little
children are innocent and harmless ; they do not much
mischief in the world ; men need not be afraid of them ;
their anger does not last long, they do not lay up injuries
in high resentment, entertaining deep and rooted malice.
So Christians, in malice are children, 1 Cor. xiv. 20.
Little children are not guileful and deceitful, but plain
and simple ; they are not versed in the arts of fiction and
deceit; and are strangers to artful disguises. They are
yielding and flexible, and not wilful and obstinate ; do
not trust to their own understanding, but rely on the in
structions of parents, and others of superior understanding.
Here is therefore a fit and lively emblem of the followers
of the Lamb. Persons being thus like little children, is
not only a thing highly commendable, what Christians
aim at, and which some of extraordinary proficiency at
tain; but it is their universal character, and absolutely
necessary in order to enter into the kingdom of heaven ;
Matt, xviii. 3. " Verily I say unto you, Except ye be con
verted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter
into the kingdom of heaven." Mark x. 1 5 . " Verily I say
unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of
God as a little child, he shall not enter therein."
But here some may be ready to say, Is there no such
thing as christian fortitude, and boldness for Christ, being
food soldiers in the christian warfare, and coming out
old against the enemies of Christ and his people ?
To which I answer, there doubtless is such a thing.
The whole christian life is fitly compared to a warfare.
The most eminent Christians are the best soldiers, endued
with the greatest degrees of christian fortitude. And it is
the duty of God's people to be stedfast, and vigorous in
their opposition to the designs and ways of such as are
endeavouring to overthrow the kingdom of Christ, and the
interest of religion. But yet many persons seem to be
quite mistaken concerning the nature of christian forti
tude. It is an exceeding diverse thing from a brutal
fierceness, or the boldness of beasts of prey. True chris
tian fortitude consists in strength of mind, through grace,
exerted in two things ; in ruling and suppressing the evil
passions and affections of the mind ; and in stedfastly and
freely exerting and following good affections and disposi
tions, without being hindered by sinful fear, or the opposi
tion of enemies. But the passions restrained, and kept
under in the exercise of this christian strength and for
titude, are those very passions that are vigorously and
violently exerted in a false boldness for Christ. And those
affections which are vigorously exerted in true fortitude,
are those christian holy affections, that are directly con
trary to the others. Though christian fortitude appears in
withstanding and counteracting enemies without us ; yet
it much more appears in resisting and suppressing the
enemies that are within us ; because they are our worst
and strongest enemies, and have greatest advantage against
us. The strength of the good soldier of Jesus Christ ap-
Eears in nothing more, than in stedfastly maintaining the
oly, calm meekness, sweetness, and benevolence of his
mind, amidst all the storms, injuries, strange behaviour,
and surprising acts and events, of this evil and unreason
able world. The Scripture seems to intimate that true
fortitude consists chiefly in this, Prov. xvi. 32. " He that
ft Mr. Shepard, speaking of hypocrites affecting applause, says, " Hence
men forsake their friends, and trample under foot the scorns ofthe world :
they have credit elsewhere. To maintain their interest in the love of
VOL. I. X

is slow to anger, is better than the mighty ; and he that
ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city."
The surest way to make a right judgment of what is a
holy fortitude in fighting with God's enemies, is to look to
the Captain of all God's hosts, our great leader and ex
ample, and see wherein his fortitude and valour appeared,
in his chief conflict. View him in the greatest battle that
ever was or ever will be fought with these enemies, when
he fought with them all alone, and of the people there was
none with him. See how he exercised his fortitude in the
highest degree, and got that glorious victory which will
be celebrated in the praises and triumphs of all the hosts
of heaven, through all eternity. Behold Jesus Christ in
his last sufferings, when his enemies in earth and hell made
their most violent attack upon him, compassing him round
on every side, like roaring lions. Doubtless here we shall
see the fortitude of a holy warrior and champion in the
cause of God, in its highest perfection and greatest lustre,
and an example fit for the soldiers to follow, that fight
under this Captain. But how did he show his holy bold
ness and valour at that time ? Not in the exercise of any
fiery passions ; not in fierce and violent speeches, vehe
mently declaiming against the intolerable wickedness of
opposers, giving them their own in plain terms ; but in
not opening his mouth when afflicted and oppressed, in
going as a lamb to the slaughter, and, as a sheep before
his shearers is dumb, not opening his mouth ; praying
that the Father would forgive his cruel enemies, because
they knew not what they did ; nor shedding others' blood,
but with all-conquering patience and love shedding his
own. Indeed one of his disciples, who made a forward
pretence to boldness for Christ, and confidently declared
he would sooner die with Christ than deny him, began to
lay about him with a sword : but Christ meekly rebukes
him, and heals the wound he gives. And never was the
patience, meekness, love, and forgiveness of Christ, in so
glorious a manifestation, as at that time. Never did he
appear so much a Lamb, and never did he show so much
of the dove-like spirit, as at that time. If therefore we see
any of the followers of Christ, in the midst of the most
violent, unreasonable, and wicked opposition, maintaining
the humility, quietness, and gentleness of a lamb, and the
harmlessness, love, and sweetness of a dove, we may well
judge that here is a good soldier of Jesus Christ.
When persons are fierce and violent, and exert their
sharp and bitter passions, it shows weakness, instead of
strength and fortitude. 1 Cor. iii. at the beginning, "And
I, brethren, could not speak unto you as unto spiritual,
but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ. — For ye
are yet carnal ; for whereas there is among you envying,
and strife, and divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk as
men ?"
There is a pretended boldness for Christ that arises from
no better principle than pride. A man may be forward to
expose himself to the dislike of the world, and even to
provoke their displeasure, out of pride. For it is the
nature of spiritual pride to cause men to seek distinction
and singularity; and so oftentimes to set themselves at
war with those whom they call carnal, that they may be
more highly exalted among their party. True boldness for
Christ is universal, and carries men above the displeasure
of friends and foes ; so that they will forsake all rather
than Christ; and will rather offend all parties, and be
thought meanly of by all, than offend Christ. And that
duty which tries whether a man is willing to be despised
by those of his own party, and thought the least worthy to
be regarded by them, is a more proper trial of his boldness
for Christ, than his being forward to expose himself to the
reproach of opposers. The apostle declined to seek glory,
not only of heathens and Jews, but of Christians ; as he
declares, 1 Thess. ii. 26.* He is bold for Christ, who has
christian fortitude enough to confess his fault openly, when
he has committed one that requires it, and as it were to
come down upon his knees before opposers. Such things
as these are much greater evidence of holy boldness, than
resolutely and fiercely confronting opposers.
As some are much mistaken concerning the nature of
godly men, they will suffer much." Parable of the Ten Virgins. Part
I. p. 180. <

306

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

true boldness for Christ, so they are concerning christian
zeal. It is indeed a flame, but a sweet one ; or'rather it is
the heat and fervour of a sweet flame. For the flame of
which it is the heat, is no other than that of divine love, or
christian charity ; which is the sweetest and most benevo
lent thing that can be, in the heart of man or angel. Zeal
is the fervour of this flame, as it ardently and vigorously
goes out towards the good that is its object ; and so con
sequently in opposition to the evil that is contrary to, and
impedes it. There is indeed opposition, vigorous opposi
tion, that is an attendant of it ; but it is against things,
and not persons. Bitterness against the persons of men'is
no part of, but is contrary to it; insomuch that the
warmer true zeal is, and the" higher it is raised, so much
the further are persons from such bitterness, and so much
fuller of love both to the evil and to the good. It is no
other, in its very nature and essence, than the fervour of
christian love. And as to what opposition there is in it
to things, it is firstly and chiefly against the evil things in
the person himself -who has this zeal ; against the enemies
of God and holiness in his own heart ; (as these are most
in his view, and what he has most to do with ;) and but
secondarily against the sins of others. And therefore there
is nothing in a true christian zeal contrary to the spirit of
meekness, gentleness, and love ; the spirit of a little child,
a lamb and dove, that has been spoken of; but is entirely
agreeable to, and tends to promote it.
But I would say something particularly concerning this
christian spirit as exercised in these three things, forgive
ness, love, and mercy. The Scripture is very clear and ex
press concerning the absolute necessity of each of these, as
belonging to the temper and character of every Christian.
A forgiving spirit is necessary, or a disposition to over
look and forgive injuries. Christ gives it to us both as a
negative and positive evidence ; and is express in teaching
us, that if we are of such a spirit, it is a sign we are in a
state of forgiveness and favour ourselves ; aud tiiat if we
are not of such a spirit, we are not forgiven of God ; and
seems to take special care that we should always bear it on
our minds. Matt. vi. 12, 14, 15. " Forgive us our debts,
as we forgive our debtors. For, if ye forgive men their
trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your
Father forgive your trespasses." Christ expresses the
same at another time, Mark xi. 25, 26. and again in Matt.
xviii. 22, to the end, in the parable of the servant, who
owed his lord ten thousand talents, and who would not
forgive his fellow-servant a hundred pence ; and therefore
was delivered to the tormentors. In the application of the
parable Christ says, ver. 35. " So likewise shall my
heavenly Father do, if ye from your hearts forgive not
every one his brother their trespasses."
And that all true saints are of a loving, benevolent, and
beneficent temper, the Scripture is very plain and abund
ant. Without it, the apostle tells us, though we should
speak with the tongues of men and angels, we are as a
sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal : and though we
have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries,
and all knowledge ; yet without this spirit we are nothing.
There is no one virtue, or disposition of mind, so often
and so expressly insisted on, as marks laid down in the
New Testament, whereby to know true Christians. It is
often given as a sign peculiarly distinguishing, by which
all may know Christ's disciples, and by which they may
know themselves ; and is often laid down, both as a ne
gative and positive evidence. Christ calls the law of love,
by way of eminence, his commandment, John xiii. 34. " A
new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one an
other ; as I have loved vou, that ye also love one another."
And chap. xv. 12. "This is my commandment, that ye
love one another, as I have loved you." And ver. 17.
" These things I command you, that ye love one another."
And says, chap. xiii. 35. " By this shall all men know
that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another."
And chap. xiv. 21. (still with a special reference to this
which he calls his commandment,) " He that hath mv
commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth
me." The beloved disciple, who had so much of this
sweet temper himself, abundantly insists on it, in his
epistles. Not one of the apostles is so express in laying

down signs of grace, for professors to try themselves by,
as he ; and in his signs, he insists scarcely on any thing
but a spirit of christian love, and an agreeable practice :
1 John ii. 9, 10. " He that saith he is in the light, and
hateth his brother, is in darkness even until now. He that
loveth his brother abideth in the light, and there is none
occasion of stumbling in him." Chap. iii. 14. " We
know that we are passed from death unto life, because we
love the brethren : he that loveth not his brother, abideth
in death." Ver. 18, 19, " My little children, let us not
love in word and in tongue, but in deed, and in truth.
And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall
assure our hearts before him." Ver. 23, 24. " This is his
commandment, that we should love one another. And he
that keepeth his commandments, dwelleth in him, and he
in him : and hereby we know that he abideth in us, by
the Spirit which he hath given us." Chap. iv. 7, 8.
" Beloved, let us love one another : for love is of God :
and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God.
He that loveth not, knoweth not God ; for God is love."
Ver. 12, 13. " No man hath seen God at anytime. If we
love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is per
fected in us. Hereby know we that we dwell in him, be
cause he hath given us of his Spirit." Ver. 16. "God is
love ; and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and
God in him." Ver. 20. " If a man say, I love God, and
hateth his brother, he is a liar : for he that loveth not his
brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom
he hath not seen ?"
And the Scripture is as plain as possible, that none are
true saints, but those who are of a disposition to pity and
relieve their fellow-creatures, who are poor, indigent, and
afflicted : Psal. xxxvii. 21 . " The righteous showeth mercy,
and giveth." Ver. 26. " He is ever merciful, and lendeth."
Psal. cxii. 5. " A good man showeth favour and lendeth."
Ver. 9. " He hath dispersed abroad, and given to the poor."
Prov. xiv. 31. " He that honoureth God, hath mercy on
the poor." Prov. xxi. 26. "The righteous giveth, and
spareth not." Jer. xxii. 16. " He judged the cause of the
poor and needy, then it was well with him : was not this
to know me ? saith the Lord." Jam. i. 27. " Pure re
ligion and undefiled before God and the Father, is this,
To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction," &c.
Hos. vi. 6. " For I desired mercy and not sacrifice ; and
the knowledge of God, more than burnt-offerings." Matt.
v. 7. "Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain
mercy." 2 Cor. viii. 8. " I speak not by commandment,
but by occasion, of the forwardness of others, and to prove
the sincerity of your love." Jam. ii. 13 — 16. " For he
shall have judgment without mercy, that hath showed no
mercy. — What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man
say he hath faith, and have not works ? can faith save
him ? If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of
daily food ; and one of you say unto them, Depart in
peace, be you warmed and filled : notwithstanding ye give
them not those things which are needful to the body;
what doth it profit?" 1 John iii. 17. " Whoso hath this
world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shut-
teth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth
the love of God in him ? " Christ in that description he gives
us of the day of judgment, Matt. xxv. (which is the most
particular in all the Bible,; represents, that judgment will
be passed at that day, according as men have been of a
merciful spirit and practice, or otherwise. Christ's design
in giving such a description of the process of that day, is
plainly to possess all his followers with the apprehension,
that unless this was their spirit and practice, there was no
hope of their being accepted and owned by him at that
day. We find in Scripture, that a righteous man and a
merciful man are synonymous expressions ; Isa. lvii. 1 .
" The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart ;
and merciful men are taken away, none considering that
the righteous is taken away from the evil to come"
Thus we see how full, clear, and abundant, the evi
dence from Scripture is, that those who are truly gracious,
are under the government of that lamb-like, dove-like
Spirit of Jesus Christ, and that this is essentially and
eminently the nature of the saving grace of the gospel, and
the proper spirit of true Christianity. We may therefore
undoubtedly determine, that all truly christian affections are

Sect. VIII.

THEY BEGET AND PROMOTE THE TEMPER OF JESUS.

307

attended with such a spirit : and that this is the natural
tendency of the fear and hope, the sorrow and the joy, the
confidence and the zeal of true Christians.
None will understand me, that true Christians have no
remains of a contrary spirit, and can never, in any in
stances, be guilty of a behaviour not agreeable to such a
spirit. But this I affirm, and shall affirm until I deny
the Bible to be any thing worth, that every thing in Chris
tians that belongs to true Christianity, is of this tendency,
and works this way ; and that there is no true Christian
upon earth, but is so under the prevailing power of such a
spirit, that he is properly denominated from it, and it is truly
and justly his character. Therefore, ministers and others
'have no warrant from Christ to encourage persons of a
contrary character and behaviour, to think they are con
verted, because they tell a fair story of illuminations and
discoveries. In so doing, they would set up their own
wisdom against Christ's, and judge against that rule by
which Christ has declared all men should know his dis
ciples. Some persons place religion so much in certain
transient illuminations and impressions, (especially if they
are in such a particular method,) and so little in the spirit
and temper, that they greatly deform religion, and form
notions of Christianity quite different from what it is, as
delineated in the Scriptures. The Scripture knows no
true Christians, of a sordid, selfish, cross, and contentious
spirit. Nothing can be a greater absurdity, than a mo
rose, hard, close, high-spirited, spiteful, true Christian.
We must learn the way of bringing men to rules ; and not
rules to men, and so strain the rules of God's word, in
order to take in ourselves, and some of our neighbours,
until we make them wholly of none effect
It is true, allowances must be made for men's natural
temper; but we must not allow men, that once were
wolves and serpents, to be now converted, without any
remarkable change in the spirit of their mind. The change
made by true conversion, is wont to be most remarkable,
with respect to the past notorious wickedness of the per
son. Grace has as great a tendency to restrain and mor
tify such sins, as are contrary to the spirit that has been
spoken of, as it has to mortify drunkenness or lascivious-
ness. Yea, the Scripture represents the change wrought
by gospel-grace, as especially appearing in an alteration of
the former sort; Isa. xi. 6—9. "The wolf shall dwell
with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the
kid : and the calf, and the young lion, and the fatling to
gether, and a little child shall lead them. And the cow
and the bear shall feed, their young ones shall lie down
together : and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And
the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and
the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice'
den. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy
mountain : for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of
the Lord, as the waters cover the sea." And to the same
purpose is Isa. lxv. 25. Accordingly we find, that in the
primitive times of the christian church, converts were re
markably changed in this respect ; Tit. iii. 3, &c. " For
we ourselves also were sometimes foolish, disobedient,
deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in ma
lice and envy, hateful, and hating one another. But after
that the kindness and love of God our Saviour toward
man appeared, — he saved us by the washing of regeneration,
and renewing of the Holy Ghost." And Col. iii. 7, 8. " In
the which ye also walked some time, when ye lived in them.
But now ye also put off all these ; anger, wrath, malice,
blasphemy, filthy communication out of your mouth."
* " These are hypocrites that believe, but fail in regard of the use of the
gospel, and of the Lord Jesus. And these we read of, Jude 3. viz. of some
men that did turn grace into wantonness. For therein appears the ex
ceeding evil of a man's heart, that not only the law, but also the glorious
gospel of the Lord Jesus, works in him all manner of unrighteousness. And
it is too common for men at the first work of conversion, Oh then to cry for
grace and Christ'and afterwards grow licentious, live and lie in the breach
of the law, and take their warrant for their course from the gospel." —
Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 126.
_ Again, p. 232. Mr. Shepard speaks of such hypocrites as those, " who,
like strange eggs being put into the same nest, where honest men have
lived, they have been hatched up ; and when Uiey are young, keep their
nest, and live by crying and opening their mouths wide after the Lord, and
the food of his word; but when their wings are grown, and they have got
some affections, some knowledge, some hope of mercy, are hardened there
by to fly from God." And adds, " Can that man be good, whom God's
grace makes worse ?"
Again, Part II. p. 167. "When men fly to Christ in times of peace, that so
they may preserve their sins with greater peace of conscience ; so that sin
makes them fly to Christ, as well as misery ; not that they may destroy and
X 2

SECT. IX.
Gracious affections soften the heart, and are attended with
a christian tenderness of spirit.
False affections, however persons may seem to be
melted by them while they are new, have a tendency in
the end to harden the heart. A disposition to some kind
of passions may be established ; such as imply self-seek
ing, self-exaltation, and opposition to others. But false
affections, with the delusion that attends them, finally
tend to stupify the mind, and shut it up against those af
fections wherein tenderness of heart consists. The effect
of them at last is, that persons in the settled frame of their
minds, become less affected with their present and past
sins, and less conscientious with respect to future sins ;
less moved with the warnings and cautions of God's word,
or chastisements in his providence ; more careless of the
frame of their hearts, and the manner and tendency of
their behaviour; less quick-sighted to discern what is
sinful, and less afraid of the appearance of evil, than they
were while under legal awakenings and fears of hell. Now
they have been the subjects of impressions and affections,
have a high opinion of themselves, and look on their state
to be safe, they can be much more easy than before,
though living in the neglect of duties that are troublesome
and inconvenient. — They are much more slow and partial
in complying with difficult commands ; and are not
alarmed at the appearance of their own defects and trans
gressions. They are emboldened to favour themselves
more, with respect to the labour and painful exactness in
their walk, and more easily yield to temptations, and the
solicitations of their lusts ; and have far less care of their
behaviour, when they come into the holy presence of God,
in the time of public or private worship. Formerly it may
be, under legal convictions, they took much pains in reli
gion, and denied themselves in many things : but now,
thinking themselves out of the danger of hell, they very
much put off the burden of the cross, and save themselves
the trouble of difficult duties, allowing themselves more of
the enjoyment of their ease and lusts.
Such persons as these, instead of embracing Christ as
their Saviour from sin, trust in him as the saviour of their
sins ; instead of flying to him as their refuge from their
spiritual enemies, they make use of him as the defence of
their spiritual enemies, from God, and to strengthen them
against him . They make Christ the minister of sin, the great
officer and vicegerent of the devil, to strengthen his in
terest, and make him above all things in the world strong
against Jehovah ; so that they may sin against him with
good courage, and without any fear, being effectually se
cured from restraints by his most solemn warnings and
most awful threatenings. They trust in Christ to preserve
to them the quiet enjoyment of their sins, and to be their
shield to defend them from God's displeasure; while they
come close to him, even to his bosom, the place of his
children, to fight against him, with their mortal weapons, hid
under their skirts.* However, some of these, at the same
time, make a great profession of love to God, and assurance
of his favour, and great joy in tasting the sweetness of his
love. After this manner they trusted in Christ, of whom the
apostle Jude speaks, who crept in among the saints un
known ; but were really " ungodly men, turning the grace
of God into lasciviousness," Jude 4. These are they
abolish sin, but they may be preserved in their sins with peace ; then men
may be said to apprehend Christ only by a seeming faith. — Many an heart
secretly saith this. If I can have my sin, and peace, and conscience quiet for
the present, and God merciful to pardon it afterward ; hence he doth rely
(as he saith) only on the mercy of God in Christ : and now this hardens and
blinds him, and makes him secure, and his faith is sermon proof, nothing
stirs him — And were it not for their faith they should despair, but this keeps
them up. And now they think if they have any trouble of mind, the devil
troubles them ; and so make Christ and faith protectors of sin, not purifiers
from sin : which is most dreadful ; turning grace to wantonness, as they did
sacrifice. So these would sin under the shadow of Christ, because tbe
shadow is good and sweet, Mic. iii. 11. They had subtle sly ends in good
duties ; for therein may lie a man's sin : yet they lean upon the Lord 
When money-changers came into the temple, You have made it a den of
thieves. Thieves when hunted fly to their den or cave, and there they are
secure against all searchers, and hue and cries : so here. But Christ whip
ped them out. So when men are pursued with cries and fears of conscience,
away to Christ they go as to their den : not as saints, to pray and lament
out the life of their sin there ; but to preserve their sin. This is vile ; will
the Lord receive such?"

308

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

that trust in their being righteous ; and because God has
promised that the righteous shall surely live, or certainly
be saved, are therefore emboldened to commit iniquity,
whom God threatens in Ezek. xxxiii. 13. " When I shall
say to the righteous, that he shall surely live : if he trust
to his own righteousness, and commit iniquity ; all his
righteousness shall not be remembered, but for his iniquity
that he hath committed, he shall die for it."
Gracious affections are of a quite contrary tendency ;
they turn a heart of stone more and more into a heart of
flesh. Holy love and hope are principles vastly more effi
cacious upon the heart, to make it tender, and to fill it
with a dread of sin, or whatever might displease and offend
God ; and to engage it to watchfulness, and care, and
strictness, than a slavish fear of hell. Gracious affections,
as was observed before, flow out of a contrite heart, or (as
the word signifies) a bruised heart, bruised and broken
with godly sorrow; which makes the heart tender, as
bruised flesh is tender, and easily hurt. Godly sorrow
has much greater influence to make the heart tender, than
mere legal sorrow from selfish principles.
The tenderness of the heart of a true Christian, is ele
gantly signified by our Saviour, in his comparing such a
one to a little child. The flesh of a little child is very
tender : so is the heart of one that is new-born. This is
also represented in what we are told of Naaman's cure of
his leprosy, by his washing in Jordan, by the direction of
the prophet ; which was undoubtedly a type of the re
newing of the soul, by washing in the laver of regeneration.
We are told, 2 Kings v. 14. that " he went down, and
dipped himself seven times in Jordan, according to the
saying of the man of God ; and his flesh came again like
unto the flesh of a little child." Not only is the flesh
of a little child tender, but his mind is tender. A little
child has his heart easily moved, wrought upon, and
bowed : so is a Christian in spiritual things. A little
child is apt to be affected with sympathy, to weep with
them that weep, and cannot well bear to see others in dis
tress : so it is with a Christian ; John xi. 35. Rom. xii.
15. 1 Cor. xii. 26. A little child is easily won by kind
ness : so is a Christian. A little child is easily affected
with grief at temporal evils, his heart is melted, and he
falls a-weeping ; thus tender is the heart of a Christian,
with regard to the evil of sin. A little child, is easily
affrighted at the appearance of outward evils, or any
thing that threatens its hurt : so is a Christian apt to be
alarmed at the appearance of moral evil, and any thing
that threatens the hurt of the soul. A little child when it
meets enemies, or fierce beasts, is not apt to trust its own
strength, but flies to its parents : for refuge so a saint is not
self-confident in engaging spiritual enemies, but flies to
Christ. A little child is apt to be suspicious of evil in
places of danger, afraid in the dark, afraid when left soli
tary, or far from home : so is a saint apt to be sensible of
his spiritual dangers, jealous of himself, full of fear when
he cannot see his way plain before him, afraid to be left
alone, and to be at a distance from God ; Prov. xxviii.
14. " Happy is the man that feareth alway ; but he that
hardeneth his heart, shall fall into mischief." A little
child is apt to be afraid of superiors, and to dread their
anger, and tremble at their frowns and threatenings : so
is a true saint with respect to God ; Psal. cxix. 120. " My
flesh trembleth for fear of thee, and I am afraid of thy
judgments." Isa. lxvi. 2. " To this man will I look, even
to him that is poor, and trembleth at my word. Ver. 5.
Hear ve the word of the Lord, ye that tremble at his
word." Ezra ix 4. " Then were assembled unto me every
one that trembled at the words of the God of Israel."
Chap. x. 3. " According to the counsel of my lord, and
of those that tremble at the commandment of our God."
A little child approaches superiors with awe : so do the
saints approach God with holy awe and reverence ; Job
xiii. 11." Shall not his excellency make you afraid ? and
his dread fall upon you ? Holy fear is so much the
nature of true godliness, that it is called in Scripture by
no other name more frequently, than the fear of God.
Hence gracious affections do not tend to make men
bold, forward, noisy, and boisterous ; but rather to speak
* Dr Ames, in his Cases of Conscience, Book III. chap. iv. speaks of a

trembling; Hos. xiii. 1. "When Ephraim spake trem
bling, he exalted liimself in Israel ; but when he offended
in Baal, he died." It tends to clothe them with a kind of
holy fear in all their behaviour towards God and man ;
agreeable to Psal. ii. 11. 1 Pet. iii. 15. 2 Cor. vii. 15.
Eph. vi. 5. 1 Pet. iii. 2. Rom.xi. 20.
But, is there no such thing as a holy boldness in prayer,
and the duties of divine worship ? There is doubtless
such a thing; and it is chiefly to be found in eminent
saints, persons of great degrees of faith and love. But this
holy boldness is not in the least opposite to reverence ;
though it be to disunion and servility. It abolishes or
lessens that disposition which arises from moral distance
or alienation ; and also distance ot" relation, as that of a
slave : but not at all, that which becomes the natural dis
tance, whereby we are infinitely inferior. No boldness in
poor sinful worms of the dust, who have a right view of
God and themselves, will prompt them to approach God
with less fear and reverence, than spotless and glorious
angels in heaven, who cover their faces before his throne,
Isa. vi. 1, &c. Rebecca, (who in her marriage with Isaac,
in almost all its circumstances, was manifestly a great
type of the church, the spouse of Christ,) when she meet-
Isaac, alights from her camel, takes a vail, and covers
herself; although she was brought to him as his bride, to
be with him, in the nearest relation, and most intimate
union* Elijah, that great prophet, who had so much holy
familiarity with God, at a time of special nearness to him,
even when he conversed with him in the mount, wrapped
his face in his mantle. Which was not because he was
terrified with any servile fear, by the terrible wind, and
earthquake, and fire; but after these were all over, and
God spake to him as a friend, in a still small voice;
1 Kings xix. 12, 13. "And after the fire, a still small
voice ; and it was so, when Elijah heard it, he wrapped
his face in his mantle." And Moses, with whom God
spake face to face, as a man speaks with his friend, and
who was distinguished above all the prophets, in the
familiarity with God to which he was admitted — at a time
when he was brought nearest of all, when God showed him
his glory in that same mount, where he afterwards spake
to Elijah — " made haste, and bowed his head towards the
earth, and worshipped," Exod. xxxiv. 8. There is in some
persons a most unsuitable and unsufferable boldness, in
their addresses to the great Jehovah — an affectation of
holy boldness, and ostentation of eminent nearness and
familiarity — the very thoughts of which would make them
shrink into nothing, with horror and confusion, if they saw
the distance that is between God and them. They are like
the Pharisee, that boldly drew near, in confidence of his
own eminence in holiness. Whereas, if they saw their
vileness, they would be more like the publican, that
" stood afar off, and durst not so much as lift up his eyes
to heaven : but smote upon his breast, saying, God be
merciful to me a sinner." It becomes such sinfui creatures
as we, to approach a holy God (although with faith, and
without terror, yet) with contrition, penitent shame, and
confusion of face. It is foretold that this should be the
disposition of the church, at the time of her highest privi
leges on earth, in her latter day of glory, when God should
remarkably comfort her, by revealing to her his covenant-
mercy ; Ezek. xvi. 60, &c. " I will establish unto thee an
everlasting covenant. Then thou shalt remember thy
ways, and be ashamed. And I will establish my cove
nant with thee, and thou shalt know that I am the Lord :
that thou mayest remember and be confounded, and never
open thy mouth any more because of thy shame, when I
am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done,
saith the Lord God." The woman we read of in the
7th chapter of Luke, who was an eminent saint and
had much of that true love which casts out fear, (by
Christ's own testimony, ver. 47.) approached Christ in an
acceptable manner when she came with humble modesty,
reverence, and shame. She stood at his feet, weeping be
hind him, as not being fit to appear before his face, and
washed his feet with her tears.
One reason why gracious affections are attended with
this tenderness of spirit, is, that true grace tends to pro-
holy modesty in the worship of God, as one sign of true humility.

Sect. X.

THEY HAVE BEAUTIFUL SYMMETRY AND PROPORTION.

309

mote convictions of conscience. Persons are wont to
have some convictions of conscience before they have any
grace : and if afterwards they are truly converted, have
true repentance, joy, and peace in believing; this has
a tendency to put an end to terrors, but has no tendency
to put an end to convictions of sin ; it rather increases
them. Grace does not stupify a man's conscience ; but
makes it more sensible, more easily and thoroughly to
discern the sinfulness of that which is sinful, and to re
ceive a greater conviction of the heinous and dreadful na
ture of sin. The conscience becomes susceptive of a
quicker and deeper sense of sin, and the man is more con
vinced of his own sinfulness, and the wickedness of his
heart ; consequently grace has a tendency to make him
more jealous of his heart. Grace tends to give the soul a
further and better conviction ofthe same things concerning
sin, that it was convinced of under a legal work of the
Spirit ; viz. its great contrariety to the will, and law, and
honour of God, the greatness of God's hatred of it, and dis
pleasure against it, and the dreadful punishment it exposes
to and deserves. And not only so, but it convinces the
soul of something further concerning sin, of which it saw
nothing, while only under legal convictions ; and that is,
the infinitely hateful nature of sin, and its dreadfulness
upon that account. And this makes the heart tender with
respect to sin ; like David's heart, that smote him when
he had cut off Saul's skirt. The heart of a true penitent is
like a burnt child that dreads the fire. Whereas, on the
contrary, he that has had a counterfeit repentance, and false
comforts and joys, is like iron that has been suddenly
heated and quenched ; it becomes much harder than before.
A false conversion puts an end to convictions of conscience ;
and so, either takes away or much diminishes that consci
entiousness which was manifested under a work ofthe law.
All gracious affections have a tendency to promote this
christian tenderness of heart. Not only godly sorrow, but
even a gracious joy does this. Psal. ii. 11. " Serve the Lord
with fear, and rejoice with trembling." As also a gracious
hope ; Psal. xxxiii. 18. " Behold, the eye of the Lord is
upon them that fear him ; upon them that hope in his
mercy." And Psal. cxlvii. 11. " The Lord taketh pleasure
in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy."
Yea, the most confident and assured hope, that is truly
gracious, has this tendency. The higher a holy hope is
raised, the more there is of this christian tenderness. The
banishing of servile fear by a holy assurance, is attended
with a proportionable increase of a reverential fear. The
diminishing of the fear of God's displeasure in future
punishment, is attended with a proportionable increase of
fear of his displeasure itself; a diminished fear of hell,
with an increase of the fear of sin. The vanishing of jea
lousies concerning the person's state, is attended with a
proportionable increase of jealousy of his heart, in a dis
trust of its strength, wisdom, stability, faithfulness, &c.
The less apt he is to be afraid of natural evil — having his
heart fixed, trusting in God, and so, not afraid of evil tid
ings — the more apt is he to be alarmed with the appear
ance of moral evil, or Jhe evil of sin. As he has more holy
boldness, so he has less of self-confidence, or a forward
assuming boldness, and more modesty. As he is more
sure than others of deliverance from hell, so he has a greater
sense of its desert. He is less apt than others to be shaken
in faith ; but more apt to be moved with solemn warnings,
with God's frowns, and with the calamities of others. He
has the firmest comfort, but the softest heart : richer
than others, but poorest of all in spirit. He is the tallest
and strongest saint, but the least and tenderest child
among them.

SECT. X.
Another thing wherein those affections that are truly gra
cious and holy, differ from those that are false, is beauti
ful symmetry and proportion.
Not that the symmetry of the virtues and gracious affec
tions of the saints, in this life, is perfect : it oftentimes is
* " Renewed care and diligence follow the sealings of the Spirit. Now is
the soul at the foot of Christ, as Mary was at the sepulchre, with fear and

in many things defective, through the imperfection of grace,
want of proper instructions, errors in judgment, some par
ticular unhappiness of natural temper, defects in educa
tion, and many other disadvantages that might be men
tioned. But yet there is in no wise that monstrous dis
proportion in gracious affections, and the various part: of
true religion in the saints, that is very commonly to be
observed in the false religion and counterfeit graces of
hypocrites. In the truly holy affections of the saints is found that
proportion, which is the natural consequence of the uni
versality of their sanctification. They have the whole
image of Christ upon them : they have put off the oldman,
and have put on the new man entire in all his parts and
members. It hath pleased the Father that in Christ all
fulness should dwell : there is in him every grace ; he is
full of grace and truth : and they that are Christ's of his
fulness receive, and grace for grace; (John i. 14, 16.)
There is every grace in them which is in Christ : grace for
grace ; that is, grace answerable to grace : there is no
grace in Christ, but there is its image in believers to
answer it. The image is a true image ; and there is some
thing of the same beautiful proportion in the image, which
is in the original ; there is feature for feature, and member
for member. There is symmetry and beauty in God's work
manship. The natural body which God hath made, con
sists of many members; and all are in a beautiful propor
tion : so the new man consists of various graces and
affections. The body of one that was born a perfect child,
may fail of exact proportion through distemper, weak
ness, or injury of some of its members ; yet the dispro
portion is in no measure like that of those who are born
monsters. It is with hypocrites, as it was with Ephraim of old, at a
time when God greatly complains of their hypocrisy ; Hos.
vii. "Ephraim is a cake not turned," half roasted and
half raw : there is commonly no manner of uniformity in
their affections. There is in many of them a great partiality,
with regard to the several kinds of religious affections ;
great affections in some things, and no proportion in
others. A holy hope and holy fear go together in the
saints, Psal. xxxiii. 18. and cxivii. 11. But in some of
these there is the most confident hope, while they are void
of reverence, self-jealousy, and caution, and while they to a
great degree cast off fear. In the saints, joy and holy fear
go together, though the joy be never so great : as it was
with the disciples, in that joyful morning of Christ's re
surrection, Matt, xxviii. 8. " And they departed quickly
from the sepulchre, with fear and great joy."* But many
of these rejoice without trembling : their joy is truly op
pose to godly fear.
But particularly, one great difference between saints and
hypocrites is this, that the joy and comfort of the former
is attended with godly sorrow and mourning for sin. They
have not only sorrow to prepare them for their first comfort,
but after they are comforted, and their joy is established.
As it is foretold of the church of God, that they should
mourn and loathe themselves for their sins, after they were
returned from the captivity, and were settled in the land of
Canaan, the land of rest, the land flowing with milk and
honey, Ezek. xx. 42, 43. " And ye shall know that I am
the Lord, when I shall bring you into the land of Israel,
into the country for the which I lifted up mine hand to give
it to your fathers. And there shall ye remember your
ways, and all your doings, wherein ye have been denied,
and ye shall loathe yourselves in your own sight, for all
your evils that ye have committed ;" (also Ezek. xvi. 61 —
63.) A true saint is like a little child in this respect :
he never had any godly sorrow before he was born again ;
but since, has it often in exercise. A little child, before it
is born, and while it remains in darkness, never cries ; but
as soon as ever it sees the light, it begins to cry ; and
thenceforward is often crying. Although Christ hath borne
our griefs, and carried our sorrows, so that we are freed
from the sorrow of punishment, and may now sweetly feed
upon tne comfort's Christ hath purchased for us ; yet that
hinders not but that our feeding on these comforts should
be attended with the sorrow of repentance. Thus of old,
great Joy. He that travels the road wilh a rich treasure abouthim, is
afraid of" a thief hi every bush." Flavel's Sacramental Meditations, Med. 4.

310

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

the children of Israel were commanded evermore to feed
upon the paschal lamb with bitter herbs.* True saints
are spoken of in Scripture, not only as those that have
mourned for sin, but as those that do mourn, whose
manner it is still to mourn ; Matt. v. 4. " Blessed are they
that mourn : for they shall be comforted."
Not only is there often in hypocrites, an essential de
ficiency, as to the various kinds of religious affections ;
but also a strange partiality and disproportion, in the same
affections, with regard to different objects. — Thus as to the
affection of love, some make high pretences, and a great
show of love to God and Christ, and it may be have been
greatly affected with what they have heard or thought
concerning them : but they have not a spirit of love and
benevolence towards men, but are disposed to contention,
envy, revenge, and evil-speaking ; and will, it may be,
suffer an old grudge to rest in their bosoms towards a
neighbour for seven years together, if not twice seven
years ; living in real ill-will and bitterness of spirit to
wards him. And it may be in their dealings with their
neighbours, they are not very strict and conscientious in
observing the rule of doing to others, as they would that
they should do to them : 1 John iv. 20. " If a man say, I
love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar : for he that
loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love
God whom he hath not seen ? " On the other hand, there
are others who appear as if they had a great deal of be
nevolence to men, who are very good-natured and gene
rous in their way ; but have no love to God.
And as to love to men, there are some who have flowing
affections to some ; but their love is far from being of so
extensive and universal a nature, as a truly christian love
is. — They are full of dear affections to some, and full of
bitterness towards others. They are knit to their own
party, those who approve, those who love, and admire
them ; but are fierce against those that oppose and dislike
them. Matt. v. 45, 46. " Be like your Father which is in
heaven ; for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on
the good. For if ye love them which love you, what
reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the same ? "
Some show a great affection to their neighbours, and pre
tend to be ravished with the company of the children of
God abroad : but at the same time are uncomfortable and
churlish towards their near relations at home, and are very
negligent of relative duties. And as to the great love to
sinners and opposers of religion, and the great concern
for their souls, that some express, even to extreme agony
— singling out a particular person from among a multitude
for its object — while at the same time there is no general
compassion to sinners in equally miserable circumstances,
but what is in a monstrous disproportion ; this seems not
to be of the nature of a gracious affection. Not that I
suppose it to be at all strange, that pity to the perishing
souls of sinners should be to a degree of agony, if other
things are answerable ; or that a truly gracious compas
sion to souls should be exercised much more to some
persons than others who are equally miserable, especially
on some particular occasions. Many things may happen
to fix the mind, and affect the heart, with respect to a
particular person, at such a juncture ; and without doubt
some saints have been in great distress for the souls of
particular persons, so as to be, as it were, in travail for
them. But when persons appear, at particular times, in
agonies for the soul of some single person, far beyond
what has been usual in eminent saints, but appear to be
far inferior to them in a spirit of meek and fervent love,
* " If repentance accompanies faith, it is no presumption to believe.
Many know the sin, and hence believe in Christ, trust in Christ, and there
is an end of their faith, But what confession and sorrow for sin ? what
more ldve to Christ follows this faith ? Truly none. Nay, their faith is the
cause why they have none. For they think, if I trust in Christ to forgive
me he will doit ; and there is an end of the business. Verily this hedge
faith this bramble-faith, that catches hold on Christ, and pricks and
scratches Christ, by rnoreimpenitency, more contempt of him, is mere pre
sumption : which shall one day be burnt up and destroyed by the fire of God s
iealousv Fye upon that faith, that serves only to keep a man from being
tormented before his time ! Your sins would be your sorrows, but that your
faith quiets you. But if faith be accompanied with repentance, mourning
for sin more esteem of God's grace in Christ; so that nothing breaks thy
heart rnore than the thoughts of Christ's unchangeable love to one so vile,
and this love makes thee love much, and love him the more ; as thy sin m-
creaseth, so thou desirest thy love's increase ; and now the stream of thy
thoughts run, how thou mayst live to him that died for thee: this was
Mary's faith, who sat at Christ's feet weeping, washing them with her tears,

charity, and compassion to mankind in general ; I say,
such agonies are greatly to be suspected, because the
Spirit of God is wont to give graces and gracious affections
in a beautiful symmetry and proportion.
And as there is a monstrous disproportion in the love
of some, in its exercises towards different persons, so there
is in their seeming exercises of love towards the same
persons. Some men show a love to others as to their out-
¦ ward man, they are liberal of their worldly substance, and
often give to the poor ; but have no love to or concern
for the souls of men. Others pretend a great love to men's
souls, but are not compassionate and charitable towards
their bodies. To make a great show of love, pity, and
distress for souls, costs them nothing ; but m order to
show mercy to men's bodies, they must part with money.
But a true christian love to our brethren, extends both to
their souls and bodies ; and herein is like the love and
compassion of Jesus Christ. He showed mercy to men's
souls, by laboriously preaching the gospel to them ; and
to their bodies, in going about doing good, healing all
manner of sickness and diseases among the people. We
have a remarkable instance of Christ's compassion at once
both to men's souls and bodies, in Mark vi. 34, &c. " And
Jesus, when he came out, saw much people, and was
moved with compassion toward them, because they were
as sheep not having a shepherd : and he began to teach
them many things." Here was his compassion to their
souls. And in the sequel, we have an account of his com
passion to their bodies ; he fed five thousand of them with
five loaves and two fishes, because they had been a long
while having nothing to eat. And if the compassion of
professing Christians towards others does not work in the
same ways, it is a sign that it is no true christian com
passion. And furthermore, it is a sign that affections are not of
the right sort, if persons seem to be much affected with the
bad qualities of their fellow-Christians, (as the coldness
and lifeliness of other saints,) but are in no proportion
affected with their own defects and corruptions. A true
Christian may be affected with the coldness and unsavouri-
ness of other saints, and may mourn much over it : but •
at the same time, he is not so apt to be affected with the
badness of any body's heart, as his own ; this is most in
his view ; this he is most quick-sighted to discern ; to see
its aggravations, and to condemn. A lesser degree of
virtue will bring him to pity himself, and be concerned
at his own calamities, than is needful rightly to be affected
with those of others ; and if men have not attained to the
less, we may determine they never attained to the greater.
And here by the way, I would observe, that it may be
laid down as a general rule, That if persons pretend to
high attainments in religion, who have never yet arrived
to the lesser, it is a sign of a vain pretence. If persons
pretend, that they have got beyond mere morality, to live
a spiritual and divine life ; but really have not come to
be so much as moral persons : or pretend to be greatly
affected with the wickedness of their hearts, and are not
affected with the palpable violations^of God's commands
in their practice, which is a lesser attainment, their pre
tences are vain. If they pretend to be brought to be even
willing to be damned for the glory of God, but have no
forwardness to suffer a little in their estates and names,
and worldly convenience, for the sake of their duty : or
finally pretend that they are not afraid to venture their
souls upon Christ, and commit their all to God, trusting
to his bare word, and the faithfulness of his promises, for
and loving much, because much was forgiven." — Shepard's Sound Believer,
p. 128, 129.
" You shall know godly sorrow (says Dr. Preston, in his discourse on
Paul's conversion) by the continuance of it ; it is constant : but worldly sor
row is but a passion of the mind ; it changes, it lasts not. Though for the
present it may be violent and strong, and work much outwardly ; yet it
comes but by fits, and continues not : like a land-flood, which violently, for
the present, overflows the banks ; but it will away again ; it is not always
thus. But godly sorrow is like a spring, that still keeps running both winter
and summer, wet and dry, in heat and cold, early and late. So this godly
sorrow is the same in a regenerate man still ; take him when you will, he is
still sorrowing for sin. This godly sorrow stands like the centre of the
earth, which removes not, but still remains."
" I am persuaded, many a man's heart is kept from breaking and mourn
ing, because of this. He saith (it may be) that he is a vile sinner ; but 1
trust in Christ, &c. If they do go to Christ to destroy their sin, this makes
them more secure in their sin. For (say they) I cannot help it, and Christ
must do all. Whereas faith makes the soul mourn after the Lord the more."
Shepard's Parable ofthe Ten Virgins, Part II. p. 168.

Sect. X.

THEY HAVE BEAUTIFUL SYMMETRY AND PROPORTION.

311

their eternal welfare ; but at the same time, have not con
fidence enough in God, to dare to trust him with a little
of their estates, bestowed to pious and charitable uses : I
say, when it is thus with persons, their pretences are
manifestly vain. He that is on a journey, and imagines
he has' got far beyond such a place in his road, and never
yet came to it, must be mistaken. He has not yet arrived
at the top of the hill, who never yet got half-way thither.
But this by the way.
What has been observed of the affections of love, is ap
plicable also to other religious affections. Those that are
true, extend in some proportion to their due and proper
objects : but the false, are commonly strangely dispropor
tionate. So it is with religious desires and longings ; these
in the saints, are toward those things that are spiritual and
excellent in general, and in some proportion to their ex
cellency, importance, or necessity, or the near concern they
have in them : but in false longings, it is often far other
wise. They will strangely run, with impatient vehemence,
after something of less importance, when other things of
greater importance are neglected. Thus for instance, some
persons are attended with a vehement inclination, an unac
countably violent pressure, to declare to others what they
experience, and to exhort them ; when there is at the same
time no inclination, in any proportionable measure, to other
things, to which true Christianity has as great, yea, a
greater tendency ; as pouring out the soul before God in
secret, earnest prayer and praise to him, more conformity
to him, living more to his glory, &c. We read in Scrip
ture of groanings that cannot be uttered, and soul-breakings
for the longing it hath ; and longings, thirstings, and pant-
ings, much more frequently to these latter things, than the
former. And so as to hatred and zeal ; when these are from right
principles, they are against sin in general, in some propor
tion to the degree of sinfulness ; Psal. cxix. 104. " I hate
every false way." So ver. 128. But a false hatred and
zeal against sin, is against some particular sin only. Thus
some seem to be very zealous against profaneness, and
pride in apparel, who themselves are notorious for covet-
ousness, closeness, and it may be backbiting, envy towards
superiors, turbulency of spirit towards rulers, and rooted
ill-will to those who have injured them. False zeal is
against the sins of others ; while he that has true ze'al, ex
ercises it chiefly against his own sins ; though he shows
also a proper zeal against prevailing and dangerous ini
quity in others. Some pretend to have a great abhorrence
of their own inward corruption ; and yet make light of
sins in practice, and seem to commit them without much
restraint or remorse ; though these imply sin, both in heart
and life.
As there is a much greater disproportion in the exercises
of false affections, than of true, as to different objects; so
there is also, as to different times. For although true
Christians are not always alike — yea, there is very great
difference, at different times, and the best have reason to
be greatly ashamed of their unsteadiness — yet there is in no
wise the instability and inconstancy of the false-hearted, in
those who are true virgins, that follow the Lamb whither
soever he goeth. The righteous man is truly said to be one
whose heart is fixed, trusting in God, (Psal. cxii. 7.) and
whose heart is established with, grace; (Heb. xiii. 9.) Job
xvii. 9. " The righteous shall hold on his way, and he that
hath clean hands shall wax stronger and stronger." It is
* Dr. Owen (on the Spirit, Booklll. chap. ii. § 18.) speaking of a common
work of the Spirit, says, " This work operates greatly on the affections : we
have given instances, in fear, sorrow, joy, and delight, about spiritual things,
that are stirred up and acted thereby : but yet it comes short in two things.
of a thorough work upon the affections themselves. For, 1st, It doth not fix
them. And, 2dly, It doth not fill them. 1. It is required that our affections
be fixed on heavenly and spiritual 11— tig> and true grace will effect it ; Col.
iii. 1,2. " If ye be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above,
where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affections on things
above." The joys, the fears, the hopes, the sorrows, with reference to spi
ritual and eternal things, which the work before mentioned doth produce,
are evanid, uncertain, unstable, not only as to the degrees, but as to the very
being of them. Sometimes they are as a river ready to overflow its banks,
men cannot but be pouring them out on all occasions ; and sometimes as
waters that fail, no drop comes from them. Sometimes they are hot, and
sometimes cold ; sometimes up, and sometimes down ; sometimes all heaven,
and sometimes all world ; without equality, without stability. But true
grace fixetli the affections on spiritual things. As to the degrees of their
exercise, there may be and is m them a great variety, according as they
maybe excited, aided, assisted by grace and the means of it; or obstructed
and impeded, by the interposition of temptations and diversions. But the

spoken of as a note of the hypocrisy of the Jewish church,
that they were as a swift dromedary, traversing her ways.
If therefore persons are religious only by fits and starts,
if they now and then seem to be raised up to the clouds in
their affections, and then suddenly fall down again, lose
all, and become quite careless and carnal, and this is their
manner of carrying on religion ; if they appear greatly
moved, and mightily engaged in religion, only in extraor
dinary seasons — as in the time of a remarkable out-pour
ing of the Spirit, or other uncommon dispensations of Pro
vidence, or upon the real or supposed receipt of some great
mercy, _r.c. — but quickly return to such a frame, that their
hearts are chiefly upon oilier things, and the prevailing
stream of their affections is ordinarily towards the things of
this world, they clearly evince their unsoundness. When
they are like the children of Israel in the wilderness, who
had their affections highly raised by what God had done
for them at the Red sea, and sang his praises, and soon fell
a lusting after the flesh-pots of Egypt ; but then again when
they came to mount Sinai, and saw the great manifesta
tions God made of himself there, seemed to be greatly en
gaged again, and mightily forsvard to enter into covenant
with God, saying, AU that the Lord hath spokenwilt we do,
and be obedient, but then quickly made them a golden calf;
I say, when it is thus with persons, it is a sign of the un
soundness of affections.* They are like the waters in the
time of a shower of rain, which, during the shower, and a
little after, run like a brook, and flow abundantly ; but are
presently quite dry : and when another shower comes, then
they will flow again. Whereas a true saint is like a stream
from a living spring ; which though it may be greatly in
creased by a shower of rain, and diminished in time of
drought, \et constantly runs: (John iv. 14. "The water
that I shall give him, shall be in him a well of water,
springing up," &c.) or like a tree planted by such a stream,
that has a constant supply at the root, and is always green,
even in time of the greatest drought; Jer. xvii. 7, 8.
" Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose
hope the Lord is. lor he shall be as a tree planted by the
waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and
shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green,
and shall not be careful iu the year of drought, neither
shall cease from yielding fruit." Many hypocrites are like
comets, that appear for a while with a mighty blaze ; but
are very unsteady and irregular in their motion, (and are
therefore called wandering stars, Jude 13.) their blaze soon
disappears, and they appear but once in a great while.
But true saints are like the fixed stars, which, though they
rise and set, and are often clouded, yet are stedfast in their
orb, and shine with a constant light. Hypocritical affec
tions are like a violent motion ; as that of the air moved
with winds, (Jude 12.) But gracious affections are more
a natural motion ; like the stream of a river, which, though
it has many turns, may meet with obstacles, and run more
freely and swiftly in some places than others ; yet in the
general, with a steady and constant course, tends the same
way, until it gets to the ocean.
And as there is a strange unevenness and dispropor
tion in false affections, at different times ; so there often
is in different places. Some are greatly affected when in
company ; but have nothing that bears any manner of
proportion to it in secret, in close meditation, prayer
and conversing with God when alone, and separated from
all the world.f A true Christian doubtless delights in
constant bent and inclination of renewed affections, is unto spiritual things ;
as the Scripture every where testifieth, and as experience doth confirni."
" There is (says Dr. Preston) a certain love, by fits, which God accepts not;
when men come and offer to God great promises, like the waves of the sea,
as big as mountains : Oh, they think, they will do much for God ! But their
minds change ; and they become as those high waves, which at last fall
level with the other waters. If a man should proffer thee great kind
nesses; and thou shouldst afterwards come to him tomake use of him, and he
should look strangely upon thee, as if he were never acquainted with thee ;
how wouldst thou esteem of such love ? If we are now on, now off, in our
love, God will not esteem of such love." Discourse on the Divine Love of
Christ. Mr. Flavel, speaking of these changeable professors, says, "These pro
fessors have more of the moon than of the sun ; little light, less heat, and
many changes. They deceive many, yea, they deceive themselves, but
cannot deceive God. Tbey want that ballast and establishment in them
selves, that would have kept them tight and steady." Touchstone of Sin
cerity, chap. ii..§ 2.
t "The Lord is neglected secretly, yet honoured openly : because there
is no wind in their chambers to blow their sails : and therefore there they
stand still. Hence many men keep their profession, v/hen they lose their

312

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

religious fellowship and christian conversation, and finds
much to affect his heart in it; but he also delights at
times to retire from-all mankind, to converse with God
in solitude. And this also has its peculiar advantages
for fixing his heart, and engaging his affections. True re
ligion disposes persons to be much alone in solitary
places, for holy meditation and prayer. So it wrought in
Isaac, Gen. xxiv. 63 . And which is much more, so it wrought
in Jesus Christ. How often do we read of his retiring into
mountains and solitary places, for holy converse with his
Father! It is difficult to conceal' great affections, but
yet gracious affections are of a much more silent and
secret nature, than those that are counterfeit. So it is with
the gracious sorrow ofthe saints for their own sins.* Thus
the future gracious mom-ning of true penitents, at the
beginning of the latter-day glory, is represented as being
so secret, as to be hidden from the companions of their
bosom; Zech. xii. 12, 13, 14. "And the land shall
mourn, every family apart ; the family of the house of
David apart, and their wives apart ; 'the family of the
house of- Nathan apart, and their wives apart ; the family
of the house of Levi apart, and their wives apart ; the
family of Shimei apart, and their wives apart; all the
families that remain, every family apart, and their wives
apart." So it is with their sorrow for the sins of others.
The saints' pains and travail for the souls of sinners is
chiefly in secret places ; Jer. xiii. 17. " If ye will not hear
it, my soul shall weep in secret places for your pride, and
mine eye shall weep sore, and run down with tears, be
cause the Lord's flock is carried away captive." So it is
with gracious joys : they are hidden manna, in this respect,
as well as, others, Rev. ii. 17. The psalmist seems to
speak of his sweetest comforts, as those which he had in
secret; Psal. lxiii. 5, 6. " My soul shall be satisfied, as
with marrow and fatness ; and my mouth shall praise
thee with joyful lips: when I remember thee upon my
bed, and meditate on thee in the night-watches." Christ
calls forth his spouse away from toe world into retired
places, that he may give her his sweetest love ; Cant. vii.
11, 12. "Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field ;
let us lodge in the villages ; — there will I give thee my
loves." The most eminent divine favours which the
saints obtained, that we read of in Scripture, were in their
retirement. The principal manifestations that God made
of himself, and his covenant-mercy to Abraham, were
when he was alone, apart from his numerous family ; as
any one will judge that carefully reads his history. Isaac
received that special gift of God, Rebekah, who was so
great a comfort to him, and by whom he obtained the
?romised seed, walking alone, meditating in the field.
acob was retired for secret prayer, when Christ came to
him ; and he wrestled with him, and obtained the bless
ing. God revealed himself to Moses in the bush, when he
was in a solitary place in the desert, in mount Horeb,
Exod. iii. And afterwards, when God showed him his glory,
and he was admitted to the highest degree of communion
with God that ever he enjoyed ; he was alone, in the same
mountain, and continued there forty days and forty nights,
and then came down with his face shining. God came to
those great prophets, Elijah and Elisha, and conversed
freely with them, chiefly m their retirement. Elijah con
versed alone with God at mount Sinai, as Moses did.
And when Jesus Christ had his greatest prelibation of his
future glory, when he was transfigured ; it was not when
he was with the multitude, or with the twelve disciples,
but retired into a solitary place in a mountain, with only
three select disciples, whom he charged that thev should
tell no man, until he was risen from the dead. When the
affection. They have by the one a name to live, fand that is enough.)
though their hearts be dead. And hence so long as you love and commend
them, so long they love you ; but if not, they wdl forsake you. They were
warm only by another's fire, and hence having no principle of life within,
soon grow dead. This is the water that turns a Pharisee's mill." Shepard's
Parable, Part I. p. 180.
" The hypocrite (says Mr. Flavel) is not for tbe closet, but the synagogue,
Matt vi. 5, 6. It is not his meat and drink to retire from the clamour of the
world, to enjoy God in secret" Touchstone of Sincerity, chap. vii. § 2.
Dr. Ames, in his Cases of Conscience, Lib. III. chap. v. speaks of it as a
thing by which sincerity may be known, "That persons be obedient in the
absence, as well as in the presence, of lookers on ; in secret, as well, yea
more, than in public ;" alleging Phil. ii. 12. and Matt. vi. 6.
« Mr. Flavel. in reckoning up those things, wherein the sorrow of saints
is distinguished from the sorrow of hypocrites, about their sins, says,
" Their troubles for sin are more private and silent troubles than others

angel Gabriel came to the blessed virgin, and when the
Holy Ghost came upon her, and the power of the Highest
overshadowed her, she seems to have been alone, in this
matter hid from the world ; her nearest and dearest earthly
friend Joseph, who had betrothed her, knew nothing ofthe
matter. And she that first partook of the joy of Christ's
resurrection, was alone with Christ at the sepulchre, John
xx. And when the beloved disciple was favoured with
those wonderful visions of Christ, and his future dispensa
tions towards the church and the world, he was alone in
the isle of Patmos. Not but that we have also instances
of great privileges that toe saints have received when with
others ; there is much in christian conversation, and social
and public worship, tending greatly to refresh and rejoice
the hearts of the saints. But this' is all that I aim at by
what has been said, to show that it is the nature of true
grace, however it loves christian society in its place, in a
peculiar manner to delight in retirement, and secret con
verse with God. So that if persons appear greatly engaged
in social religion, and but little in the religion of the
closet, and are often highly affected when with others,
and but little moved when they have none but God and
Christ to converse with, it looks very darkly upon their
religion.

SECT. XI.
Another great and very distinguishing difference is, that the
higher gracious affections are raised, the more is a spiritual
appetite and longing of soul after spiritual attainments
increased : on. the contrary, false affections rest satisfied
in themselves.^
The more a true saint loves God with a gracious love,
the more he desires to love him, and the more uneasy is
he at his want of love to him : the more he hates sin, the
more he desires to hate it, and laments that he has so
much remaining love to it. The more he mourns for sin,
toe more he longs to mourn ; the more his heart is broken,
the more he desires it should be broken. The more he
thirsts and longs after God and holiness, the more he
longs to long, and breathe out his very soul in longings
after God. The kindling and raising of gracious affections
is like kindling a flame ; the higher it is raised, toe more
ardent it is ; and the more it burns, the more vehemently
does it tend and seek to burn. So that the spiritual appe
tite after holiness, and an increase of holy affections, is
much more lively and keen in those that are eminent in
holiness, than others; and more when grace and holy
affections are in their most lively exercise, than at other
times. It is as much the nature of one that is spiritually
new-born, to thirst after growth in holiness, as it is the
nature of a new-bom babe to thirst after the mother's
breast ; who has the sharpest appetite, when best in health ;
1 Pet. ii. 2, 3. "As new-bom babes, desire the sincere
milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby : if so be that
ye have tasted that the Lord is gracious." The most that
the saints have in this world, is but a taste, a prelibation of
that future glory which is their proper fulness ; it is only
an earnest of their future inheritance ; (2 Cor. i. 22. and
v. 5. and Eph. i. 14.) The most eminent saints in this
state are but children, compared with their future, which
is their proper, state of maturity and perfection ; as the
apostle observes, 1 Cor. xiii. 10, 11. The greatest emi
nence and perfection that the saints arrive at in this world,
has no tendency to satiety, or to abate their desires after
more ; but, on the contrary, makes them more eager to
are ; their sore runs in the night." Touclistone of Sincerity, chap. vi.
§ 5- t " Truly there is no work of Christ that is right, (says Mr. Shepard,)
but it carries the soul to long for more of it" Par. Ten Virg. Part I. p. 136.
And again, " There is in true grace an infinite circle : a man by thirsting
receives, and receiving thirsts for more. But hence the Spirit is not poured
out abundantly on churches ; because men shut it out, by shutting in and
contenting themselves with their common graces and gifts ; Matt. vii. 29.
Examine if it be not so." Ibid. p. 182.
And in p. 210. he says, " This I say. True grace, as it comforts, so it never
fills, but puts an edge on the appetite ; more of that grace. Lord ' Thus
Paul, Phil. iii. 13. 14. Thus David, Out of my poverty I have given, &c.
1 Chron. xxix. 3, 17, 18. It is a sure way never to be deceived in lighter
strokes of the Spirit, to be thankful for any, but to he content with no
measure of it And this cuts the thread of difference, between a superficial
lighter stroke of the Spirit, and that which is sound."

Sect. XI.

FALSE AFFECTIONS REST SATISFIED IN THEMSELVES.

313

press forwards; as is evident by the apostle's words,
Phil. iii. 13—15. "Forgetting those things which are
behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are
before, I press toward the mark. Let us therefore, as
many as be perfect, be thus minded."
The reasons'of it are, that the more persons have of holy
affections, the more they have of that spiritual taste which
I have spoken of elsewhere ; whereby they perceive the
excellency, and relish the divine sweetness, of holiness.
And the more grace they have, while in this state of im
perfection, the more they see their imperfection and empti
ness, and distance from what ought to be ; and so the more
do they see their need of grace; as I showed at large be
fore, when speaking of the nature of evangelical humili
ation. And besides, grace, as long as it is imperfect, is of
a growing nature, and in a growing state. And we see it
to be so with all living things, that while they are in a state
of imperfection, and in their growing state, their nature
seeks after growth ; and so much the more, as they are
more healthy and prosperous. Therefore the cry of every
true grace, is like that cry of true faith, Mark ix. 24.
" Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief." And the greater
spiritual discoveries and affections the true Christian has,
the more does he become an earnest supplicant for grace,
and spiritual food, that he may grow ; and the more earnest
ly does he pursue after it, in the use of proper means and
endeavours ; for true and gracious longings after holiness,
are no idle ineffectual desires.
But here some may object, How is this consistent with
what all allow, that spiritual enjoyments are of a soul-satis
fying nature ?
I answer, Its being so will appear to be not at all incon
sistent with what has been said, if it be considered in what
manner spiritual enjoyments are said to be of a soul-satis
fying nature. Certainly they are not of a cloying nature,
so that he who has any thing of them, though but in a very
imperfect degree, desires no more. But spiritual enjoy
ments are of a soul-satisfying nature in the following re
spects. 1 . They in their kind and nature, are fully adapt
ed to the nature, capacity, and need of the soul of man.
So that those who find them, desire no other kind of enjoy
ments ; they sit down fully contented with that kind of
happiness which they have, desiring no change, nor inclin
ing to wander about any more, saying, Who will show us
any good ? the soul is never cloyed, never weary ; but per
petually giving up itself, with all its powers, to this happi
ness. But not that those who have something of this hap
piness, desire no more of the same. 2. They are satisfy
ing also in this respect, that they answer the expectation of
the appetite. When the appetite is high to any thing, the
expectation is consequently so. Appetite to a particular
object, implies expectation in its nature. This expectation
is not satisfied by worldly enjoyments; the man expected
to have a great accession of happiness, but he is disap
pointed. But it is not so with spiritual enjoyments ; they
fully answer and satisfy the expectation. 3. The gratifica
tion and pleasure of spiritual enjoyments is permanent.
It is not so with worldly enjoyments. They in a sense
satisfy particular appetites ; but the appetite in being sa-
* " It is usual to see a false heart most diligent in seeking the _ord, when
he has been worst, and most careless when if is best. Hence many at first
conversion, sought the Lord earnestly: afterwards affections and endea
vours die ; that now they are good as the word can make them. — An hypo
crite's last end is to satisfy himself: hence he has enough. A saint's is to
satisfy Christ: hence he never has enough." Shepard's Parable, Part I.
p. 157.
" Many a man, it may be, may say, I have nothing in myself, and all is
in Christ; and comfort himself there ; and so falls asleep. Hands off! and
touch not this ark, lest the Lord slay thee : a Christ of clouts would serve
your turn as well." Ibid. p. 71.
" An hypocrite's light goes out, and grows not. Hence many ancient
standers take all their comfort from their first work, and droop when in old
age." Ibid. p. 77.
And p. 93, 94. Mr. Shepard, mentioning the characters of those that have
a dead hope, says, " They that content themselves with any measure of
holiness and grace, they look not for Christ's coming and company. For
saints that do look for him, though they have not that holiness and grace
they would have, yet they rest not satisfied with any measure ; I John iii.
3." He that hath this hope, purifiethhimseif as he is pure." — That saints con
tent not themselves with any dressings, until made glorious, and so fit for
fellowship with that spouse. — When a man leaves not, until he gets such a
measure of faith and grace, and now when he has got this, contents him
self with this, as a good sign that he shall be saved, he looks not for Christ.
Or when men are heavily laden with sin ; then close with Christ ; and then are
comforted, sealed, and have joy that fills them ; and now the work is done.
—And when men shall not content themselves with any measure ; but wish
they had more, if grace would grow, while they tell clocks and sit idle ;
and so God must do all : butdo not purge themselves, and make work of it."

tisfied, is glutted, and then the pleasure is over : and as
soon as that is over, the general appetite of human nature
after happiness returns ; but is empty, and without any
thing to satisfy it. So that the glutting of a particular ap
petite, does but take away from, and leave emptv, the
general thirst of nature. 4. Spiritual good is satisfying,
as there is enough in it to satisfy the soul, as to the degree,
if obstacles were but removed, and the enjoying faculty
duly applied. There is room enough here for the soul to
extend itself; here is an infinite ocean. If men be not
satisfied here, as to degree of happiness, the cause is
with themselves ; it is because they do not open their
mouths wide enough.
But these things do not argue that a soul has no appetite
excited after more of the same, when it has tasted a little ;
or that the appetite will not increase, until it comes to
fulness of enjoyment : as bodies attracted to the earth,
tend to it more strongly, the nearer they come to the
attracting body, and are not at rest out of the centre. Spi
ritual good is of a satisfying nature ; and for that, very
reason, the soul that tastes, and knows its nature, will
thirst after it, and a fulness of it, that it may be satisfied.
And the more one experiences and knows this excellent,
unparalleled, exquisite, and satisfying sweetness, the more
earnestly will he hunger and thirst for more, until he comes
to perfection. And therefore this is the nature of spiritual
affections, that the greater they be, the greater the appetite
and longing is, after grace and holiness.
But with those joys, and other religious affections, that
are false and counterfeit, it is otherwise. If before there was
a great desire, of some sort, after grace; as these affections
rise, that desire ceases, or is abated. It may be before,
while the man was under legal convictions, and much
afraid of hell, he earnestly longed that he might obtain
spiritual light in his understanding, faith in Christ, and
love to God : but now, when these false affections deceive
him, and make him confident that he is converted, and his
state good, there are no more earnest longings after light and
grace ; for his end is answered ; he is confident that his
sins are forgiven him, and that he shall go to heaven ; and
so he is satisfied. And especially when false affections
are raised very high, do they put an end to longings after
grace and holiness. The man now is far from appearing
to himself a poor empty creature ; on the contrary, he is
rich, and increased with goods, and hardly conceives of
any thing more excellent, than what he has already attained.
Hence there is an end to many persons' earnestness in
seeking, after they have once obtained that which they call
their conversion ; or at least, after they have had those
high affections, that make them fully confident of it. Be
fore, while they looked upon themselves as in a state of
nature, they were engaged in seeking after God and Christ,
and cried earnestly for grace, and strove in the use of
means : but now they act as though they thought their
work was done ; they live upon their first work, or some
high past experiences ; and there is an end to their crying,
and striving after God and grace.* Whereas the hoiy
principles that actuate a true saint, have a far more power
ful influence to stir him up to earnestness in seeking God
Again, p. 109. " There is never a hypocrite living, but closeth with
Christ for his own ends: for he cannot work beyond his principle. Now
when men have served their own turns out of another man, away they go,
and keep that which they have. An hypocrite closeth with Christ, as a
man with a rich shop; he will not be at cost to buy all the shop, but so
much as serves his turn. Commonly men in horror, seek so much of Christ
as will ease them ; and hence profess, and hence seek for so much of Christ
as will credit them ; and hence their desires after Christ are soon satisfied.
Appetitus finis est infinilus."
"Woe to thee that canst paint such a Christ in thy head, and receive such
a Christ into thy heart, as must be a pander to your sloth. The Lord will
revenge this wrong done to his glory, with greater sorrows than ever any
felt: to make Christ not only meat and drink to feed, but clothes to cover
your sloth— Why what can we do ? what can we do ?— Why as the first
Adam conveys not only guilt, but power; so the second conveys both
righteousness and strength." Ibid. p. 158.
" When the Lord hath given some light and affection, and some comfort
and some reformation, now a man grows full here. Saints do for God ; and
carnal hearts do something too ; but a little fills them, and quiets them,
and so damns them. And hence men at the first work upon them, are very
diligent in the use of means ; but after that, they be brought to neglect prayer,
sleep out sermons, and to be careless, sapless, lifeless." Ibid. p. 210.
" It is an argument of want of grace, when a man saith to himself, as
the glutton said to his soul, " Take thy rest, for thou hast goods laid up for
many years." So thou hast repentance and grace, and peace enough for
many years : and hence the soul takes its rest, grows sluggish and negli-
Eent Oh, if you die in this case, this night thy soul will be taken away to
ell." Ibid. p. 227.

314

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

and holiness, than servile fear. Hence seeking God is
spoken of as one of the distinguishing characters of the
saints ; and those that seek God, is one of toe names by
which toe godly are called in Scripture: Ps. xxiv. 6.
" This is the generation of them that seek him, that seek thy
face, O Jacob." Ps. lxix. 6. " Let not those that seek thee,
be confounded for my sake." Ver. 32 . " The humble shall
see this, and be glad ; and your heart shall live that seek
God." And lxx. 4. " Let all those that seek thee, rejoice,
and be glad in thee : and let such as love thy salvation say
continually, The Lord be magnified." And the Scriptures
every where represent the seeking, striving, and labour of a
Christian, as being chiefly after his conversion, and his con
version as being but the beginning of his work. And
almost all that is said in the New Testament, of men's watch
ing, giving earnest heed to themselves, running the race that
is set before them, striving and agonizing, wrestling not with
flesh and blood, but principalities and powers, fighting,
putting on the whole armour of God, and standing, having
done all to stand, pressing forward, reaching forth, con
tinuing instant in prayer, crying to God day and night ; I
say, almost all that is said in the New Testament of these
things, is spoken of and directed to the saints. Where
these things are applied to sinners' seeking conversion once,
they are spoken of the saints' prosecution of the great busi
ness of their high calling ten times. But many in these
days have got into a strange anti-scriptural way, of having
all their striving and wrestling over before they are con
verted ; and so having an easy time of it afterwards, to sit
down and enjoy their sloth and indolence ; as those that
now have a supply of their wants, and are become rich and
full. But when the Lord fills the hungry with good things,
these rich are like to be sent away empty, Luke i. 53.
But doubtless there are some hypocrites, that have only
false affections, who will think they are able to stand this
trial ; and will readily say, that they desire not to rest
satisfied with past attainments, but to be pressing forward ;
they desire more, they long after God and Christ, desire
more holiness, and seek it. But the truth is, their desires
are not properly the desires of appetite after holiness, for
its own sake, or for its moral excellency and holy sweet
ness ; but only for by-ends. They long after clearer dis
coveries, that they may be better satisfied about the state
of their souls ; or because in great discoveries self is grati
fied, in being made so much of by God, and so exalted
above others ; they long to taste the love of God, (as they
call it,) rather than to have more love to God. Or, it may
be, they have a kind of forced, fancied, or made longings ;
because they think they must long for more grace, other
wise it will be a dark sign upon them. But such things as
these are far different from the natural, and as it were
necessary, appetite and thirsting of the new man after God
and holiness. There is an inward burning desire that a
saint has after holiness, as natural to the new creature, as
vital heat is to the body. There is a holy breathing and
panting after toe Spirit of God to increase holiness, as
* " He that pretends to godliness, and turns aside to crooked ways, is an
hypocrite : for those that are really godly, do live in a way of obedience ;
Psal. cxix. 1 , 2, 3. "Blessed are the undefiled in the way, that walk in the
law of the Lord. — They also do iniquity." Luke i. 6. " They were both
righteous before God, walking in aU the commandments of the Lord
blameless." But such as live m ways of sin, are dissemblers : for all such
will be rejected in the day of judgment ; Matth. vii. 23. " Depart from me
ye that work iniquity". The like we have Luke xiii. 27. If men live in a
way of disobedience, they do not love God; for love will make men keep
God's commandments : I John v. 3. " Herein is love, that we keep his
commandments : and his commandments are not ETievous." If men live
in a way of disobedience, they have not a spirit of faith ; for faith sanctifies
men ; Acts xxvi. 18. " Sanctified by faith that is in me." If men live in a
way of disobedience, they are not Christ's sheep; for his sheep hear his
voice ; John x. 27. Men that live in a way of disobedience are not born of
God ; 1 John iii. 9. " He that is born of God, sinneth not" Men that live
in a way of disobedience are the servants of sin; John viii. 34. " He that
committeth sin, is the servant of sin." — A course of external sin is an evi
dence of hypocrisy ; whether it be a sin of omission or commission. — If men
live in the neglect of known duUes, or in the practice of known evils, that
will be their condemnation ; let the sin be what it will ; let it be profaneness,
uncleanness, lying, or injustice. — If men allow themselves in malice, envy,
wanton thoughts, profane thoughts, that will condemn them ; though those
corruptions do not break out in any scandalous way. These thoughts are
an evidence of a rotten heart; Tit in. 3. " We ourselves were sometimes
foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in
malice and envy, hateful, and hating one another." If a man allows him
self, though he thinks he doth not, in malice and envy, he is an hypocrite :
though his conscience disallows it, yet if his heart allows it, he is no saint-
Some make pretences to godliness, whereby they do not only deceive others,
but (which is a great deal worse) deceive themselves also : but this will
condemn them, that they live in a course of sin, and so must go with un
godly men; Ps.cxxv. 5. "As for such as turn aside unto their crooked ways,
the Lord will lead them forth with the workers of iniquity." If there be a

natural to a holy nature, as breathing is to a living body.
And holiness or sanctification is more directly the object
of it, than any manifestation of God's love and favour.
This is the meat and drink that is the object of the spiritual
appetite ; John iv. 34. " My meat is to do the will of him
that sent me, and to finish his work." Where we read in
Scripture of the desires, longings, and thirstings of the
saints, righteousness and God's laws are much more fre-
quentlymentioned, as the object of them, than any thing
else. The saints desire the sincere milk of the word, not so
much to testify God's love to them, as that they may prow
thereby in holiness. I have shown before, that holiness is
that good which is the immediate object of a spiritual taste.
But undoubtedly the same sweetness that is toe chief
object of a spiritual taste, is also the chief object of a
spiritual appetite. Grace is the godly man's treasure;
Isa. xxxiii. 6. " The fear of the Lord is his treasure."
Godliness is the gain of which he is covetous, 1 Tim. vi.
6. Hypocrites long for discoveries, more for toe present
comfort of the discovery, and the high manifestation of
God's love in it, than for any sanctifying influence of it.
But neither a longing after great discoveries, or after great
tastes of the love of God, nor longing to be in heaven,nor
longing to die, are in any measure so distinguishing marks
of true saints, as longing after a more holy heart, and living
a more holy life.

SECT. XII.
Gracious and holy affections have their exercise and fruit
in christian practice.
I mean, they have that influence and power upon him
who is toe subject of them, that they cause that a practice,
which is universally conformed to, and directed by chris
tian rules, should be the practice and business of his life.
This implies three things; 1. That his behaviour or
practice in the world, be universally conformed to and
directed by christian rules. 2. That he makes a business
of such a holy practice above all things ; that it be a busi
ness which he is chiefly engaged in, and devoted to, and
pursues with highest earnestness and diligence ; so that he
may be said to make this practice of religion eminently
his work and business. — And, 3. That he persists in it to
the end of life : so that it may be said, not only to be his
business at certain seasons, the business of Sabbath-days,
or certain extraordinary times, or the business of a month,
or a year, or of seven years, or his business under certain
circumstances ; but the business of his life ; it being that
business which he perseveres in through' all changes, and
under all trials, as long as he lives. The necessity of each
of these, in all true Christians, is most clearly and fully
taught in the word of God.
1 . It is necessary that men should be universally obedient :*
1 John iii. 3, &c. " Every man that hath this hope in him,
purifieth himself, even as he is pure. — And ye know that
great change in a man's carriage, and he be reformed in several particulars,
yet if there be one evil way, the man is an ungodly man ; where there is
Eiety there is universal obedience. A man may have great infirmities, yet
e a godly man. So it was with Lot, David, andP eter : but if he lives in a
way of sin, he does not render his godliness only suspicious, but it is full
evidence against him. Men that are godly have respectto all God's com
mandments, Psal. cxix. 6. There be a great many commands, and if there be
one of them that a man has not respect unto, he will be put to shame ano
ther day. If a man lives in one evil way, he is not subject to God's autho
rity : but then he lives in rebelhon ; and that will take off all his pleas, and
at once cut off alt his pretences ; and he will be condemned in the day of
uidgment— One way of sin is exception enough against the man's salvation.
Though the sin that he lives in be but small: such persons will not be guilty
of perjury, stealing, drunkenness, fornication ; they look upon them to be
heinous things, and they are afraid of them ; but they do not much matter
it, if they oppress a little in a bargain, if tbey commend a thing too much
when they are about to sell it, if they break a promise, if they spend the
Sabbath unprofitably, if they neglect secret prayer, if they talk rudely and
reproach others ; they think these are but small things . if they can keep
clear of great transgressions, they hope that God will not insist upon small
things.— But indeed all the commands of God are established by divine au
thority : a small shot may kill a man, as well as a cannon bullet : a small
leak may sink a ship. If a man lives in small sins, that shows he has no love
to God, no sincere care to please and honour God. Little sins are of a damn
ing nature, as well as great : if they do not deserve so much punishment as
greater, yet they do deserve damnation. There is contempt of God in all
sins; Matt. v. 19. " He that shall break oneof the leastof these commands
and shall teach men so, shall be called the least in the kingdom of God "
Prov. xix. 16. " He that keepeth the commandment, keepeth his own soul •
but he that despiseth his way, shall die." If a man says, this is a great
command, and so lays weight on it. and another is a little commandment
and so does not regard it, but will allow himself to break it, he is in a
perishing condition. '—Stoddard's Way to Know Sincerity and Hypocrisy.

Sect. XII.

THEIR FRUIT IS CHRISTIAN PRACTICE.

315

he was manifested to take away our sins ; and in him is no
sin. Whosoever abideth in him, sinneth not : whosoever
sinneth, hath not seen him, neither known him. — He that
doth righteousness, is righteous, even as he is righteous :
he that committeth sin, is of the devil. Chap. v. 18- We
know that whosoever is born of God, sinneth not, but he
that is begotten of God, keepeth himself, and that wicked
one toucheth him not." John xv. 14. " Ye are my friends
if ye do whatsoever I command you." James ii. 10.
" Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in
one point, he is guilty of all." 1 Cor. vi. 9. " Know ye
not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of
God ? Be not deceived : neither fornicators, nor idolaters,
&c. shall inherit the kingdom of God." Gal. v. 19, 20.
" Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these,
adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry,
witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, envy-
ings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like : of
the which I tell you before, as I have also told you
in time past, that they which do such things, shall not
inherit the kingdom of God." Which is as much as to
say, they that do any sort of wickedness. Job xxxi. 3 — 7.
" Is not destruction to the wicked ? and a strange punish
ment to the workers of iniquity ? Doth not he see my
ways, and count all my steps ? Let me be weighed in an
even balance, that God may know mine integrity. If my
step hath turned out of the way, and mine heart walked
after mine eyes, and if any blot hath cleaved to my hands,"
&c. Ezek. xxxiii. 15. "If he walk in the statutes of life,
without committing iniquity, he shall surely live." If one
member only be corrupt, and we do not cut it off, it will
carry the whole body to hell, Matt. v. 29, 30. Saul was
commanded to slay all God's enemies, the Amalekites ;
and he slew all but Agag, and the saving him alive proved
his ruin. Caleb and Joshua entered into God's promised
rest, because they wholly followed the Lord, (Numb. xiv.
24. and xxxii. 11, 12. Deut. i. 36. Josh. xiv. 6, 8, 9, 14.)
Naaman's hypocrisy appeared in that — however he seemed
to be greatly affected with gratitude to God for healing his
leprosy, and engaged to serve him, yet — in one thing he
desired to be excused. And Herod, though he feared
John, observed him, heard him gladly, and did many
things ; yet was condemned, in that in one thing he would
not hearken to him, even in parting with his beloved Hero-
dias. So that it is necessary that men should part with
their dearest iniquities, which are as their right hand and
right eyes ; sins that most easily beset them, and to which
they are most exposed by their natural inclinations, evil
customs, or particular circumstances, as well as others.
As Joseph would not make known himself to his brethren
who had sold him, until Benjamin the beloved child of the
family was delivered up ; no more will Christ reveal his
love to us, until we part with our dearest lusts, and until
we are brought to comply with the most difficult duties,
and those to which we have the greatest aversion.
And it is of importance to observe, that in order to a
man's being universally obedient, his obedience must not
only consist in negatives, or in universally avoiding wicked
practices ; but he must also be universal in the positives of
religion. Sins of omission are as much breaches of God's
commands, as sins of commission. Christ, in Matt. xxv.
represents those on the left hand, as being condemned and
cursed to everlasting fire, for sins of omission, I was an
Imngred, and ye gave me no meat, Sec. A man therefore
cannot be said to be universally obedient, and of a chris
tian conversation, only because he is no thief, oppressor,
fraudulent person, drunkard, tavern-haunter, whore-master,
rioter, night-walker, nor unclean, profane in his language,
slanderer, liar, furious, malicious, nor reviler. He is falsely
said to be of a conversation becoming the gospel, who
goes thus far, and no farther ; but, in order to this, it is
necessary that he should also be of a serious, religious,
devout, humble, meek, forgiving, peaceful, respectful, con
descending, benevolent, merciful, charitable, and beneficent
walk and conversation. Without such things as these, he
does not obey the laws of Christ, laws that he and his
apostles abundantly insist on, as of greatest importance
and necessity.
» Deut. v. 29. Deut xxxii. 18, 19, 20. 1 Chron. xxviii. 9. Psal. lxxviii. 7,
8, 10, 11, 35, 36, 37, 41, 42, 56, Stc. Psal. cvi. 3, 12-15. Psal. exxv. 4, 5.

2. In order to men's being true Christians, it is necessary
that they prosecute the business of religion, and the service
of God, with great earnestness and diligence, as tbe work
to which they devote themselves, and make the main busi
ness of their lives. All Christ's peculiar people, not only
do good works, but are zealous of good works, Tit. ii. 14.
No man can do the service of two masters at once. They
who are God's true servants, give up themselves to his
service, and make it as it were their whole work, therein
employing their whole hearts, and the chief of their
strength; Phil. iii. 13. " This one thing I do." Christians
in their effectual calling, are not called to idleness, but to
labour in God's vineyard, and spend their day in doing a
great and laborious service. All true Christians comply
with this call, (as is implied in its being an effectual call,)
and do the work of Christians ; which is every where in
the New Testament compared to those exercises, wherein
men are wont to exert their strength with the greatest ear
nestness, as running, wrestling, fighting. All true Chris
tians are good and faithful soldiers of Jesus Christ, and
fight the good fight of faith : for none but those who do
so, ever lay hold on eternal life. Those who fight as those
who beat the air, never win the crown of victory. They
that run in a race, run all ; but one wins the prize : and
they that are slack and negligent in their course, do not so
run, as that they may obtain. The kingdom of heaven is
not to be taken but by violence. Without earnestness
there is no getting along in that narrow way that leads to
life; and so no arriving at that state of glorious life and
happiness to which it leads. Without earnest labour,
there is no ascending the steep and high hill of Zion ; and
so no arriving at the heavenly city on the top of it. With
out a constant laboriousness, there is no stemming the
swift stream in which we swim, so as ever to come to that
fountain of water of life, that is at the head of it. There
is need that we should watch and pray always, in order to
our escaping those dreadful things that are coming on the
ungodly, and our being counted worthy to stand before the
Son of man. There is need of our putting on the whole
armour of God, and doing all to stand, in order to our
avoiding a total overthrow, and being utterlv destroyed by
the fiery darts of the devil. There is need that we should
forget the. things that are behind, and be reaching forth to
the things that are before, and pressing towards the mark,
for the prize of the high calling of God, in Christ Jesus
our Lord, in order to our obtaining that prize. Slothful-
ness in the service of God, in his professed servants, is as
damning as open rebellion : for the slothful servant is a
wicked servant, and shall be cast into outer darkness,
among God's open enemies, Matt. xxv. 26, 30. They
that are slothful, are not followers of them, who through
faith and patience inherit the promises; Heb. vi. 11, 12.
" And we desire that every one of you do show the same
diligence, to the full assurance of hope unto the end : that
ye be not slothful, but followers of them, who through
faith and patience inherit the promises." And all they
who follow that cloud of witnesses who are gone before to
heaven, do lay aside every weight, and the sin that easily
besets them, and run with patience the race that is set before
them, Heb. xii. 1 . That true faith by which persons rely
on the righteousness of Christ and the work he hath done
for them, and truly feed and live upon him, is evermore
accompanied with a spirit of earnestness in the christian
work and course. Which was typified of old, by the
manner of the children of Israel's feeding on the paschal
lamb; Exod. xii. 11. " And thus shall ye eat it, with your
loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and your staff in
your hand : and ye shall eat it in haste ; it is the Lord's
passover." 3. Every true Christian perseveres in this way of uni
versal obedience, diligent and earnest service of God,
through all the various kinds of trials that he meets with,
to the end of life. That all true saints, all who obtain
eternal life, do thus persevere in the practice of religion,
and the service of God, is a doctrine so abundantly taught
in the Scripture, that particularly to rehearse all the texts
which imply it would be endless. I shall content myself
with referring to some in the margin.*
Prov.xxvi.il. Isa. lxiv. 5. Jer. xvii. 13. Ezek. iii. 20. and xviii. 24. and
xxxiii. 12, 13. Matt x.22. and xiii. 4—8. with verses 19—23. and xxv. 8.

316

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III

But that in persevering obedience, which is chiefly in
sisted on in the Scripture, as a special note of the truth of
grace, is the continuance of professors in the practice of
their duty, and being stedfast in a holy walk, through the
various trials that thev meet with.
By trials here I mean, those things which a professor
meets with in his course, that especially render his con
tinuance in duty, and faithfulness to God, difficult to
nature. These things are called in Scripture bv the name
of trials, or temptations, which are words of the same
signification. These are of various kinds : there are many
things that render continuance in the way of duty difficult,
by their tendency to cherish and foment, or to stir up and
provoke, lusts and corruptions. Many things make it hard
to continue in the way of duty, by their being of an al
luring nature, and having a tendency to entice persons to
sin ; or by their tendency to take off restraints, and em
bolden them in iniquity. Other things are trials of the
soundness and stedfastness of professors, by their tendency
to make their duty appear terrible to them, and so to drive
them from it : such as the sufferings to which their duty
will expose them ; pain, ill-will, contempt, and reproach,
or loss of outward possessions and comforts. If persons,
after they have made a profession of religion, live any con
siderable time in this world, which is so full of changes,
and so full of evil, it cannot be otherwise, than that they
should meet with many trials of their sincerity and sted
fastness. And besides, it is God's providential manner,
to bring trials on his professing friends and servants de
signedly, that he may manifest them ; and mav exhibit
sufficient matter of conviction of the state in which thev
are to their own consciences ; and oftentimes, to the world.
This appears by innumerable scriptures ; some are referred
to in the margin*
True saints may be guilty of some kinds and degrees of
backsliding, may be foiled by particular temptations, and
fall into sin, yea, great sins : but they can never fall away
so as to grow wearv of religion and the service of God,
and habitually to dislike and neglect it, either on its own
account, or on account of the difficulties that attend it ;
as is evident by Gal. vi. 9. Rom. ii. 7. Heb. x. 36. Isa.
xliii. 22. Mai. i. 13. They can never backslide so as to
continue no longer in a way of universal obedience ; or so,
that it shall cease to be their manner to observe all the
rules of Christianity, and do all duties required, even the
most difficult, and in the most difficult circumstances f
This is abundantly manifest by the things observed al
ready. Nor can they ever fall away, so as habitually to
be more engaged in other things than in the business of
religion : or so that it should become their wav and man
ner to serve something else more than God ; or so as
statedly to cease to serve God, with such earnestness and
diligence, as still to be habitually devoted and given up to
the business of religion ; unless those words of Christ can
fall to the ground, Ye cannot serve two musters; and
those of the apostle, He that will be a friend of the world,
and xxiv. 12, 13. Luke ix. 62. and xii. 35. & c. and xxii. 28. and xvii. 32. John
viii. 30. 31. and xv. 6, 7, 8, 10, 16. Rom. ii. 7. and xi. 22. Col. i. 22, 23. Heb.
iii. 6, 12. 14. and vi. 11.12. andx. 35, &c. James i. 25. Rev. ii. 13, 26. and ii.
10. 1 Tim. ii. 15. 2 Tim. iv. 4-8.
9 Gen. xxii. 1. Exod. xv. 25. and xvi. 4. Deut viii. 2, 15, 16. and xiii.
3. Judg. ii. 22. and iii. 1, 4. Job xxiii. 10. Psal. lxvi. 10, 11. Ezek. iii. 20.
Dan. xii. 10, Zech. xiii. 9. Matt viii. 19, 20. and xviii. 21,22. Luke i. 35.
I Cor. xi. 19. 2 Cor. viii. 8. Jam. i. 12. 1 Pet. iv. 12. 1 John ii. 19. Heb.
xi. 17. Rev. iii. 10.
t " One way of sin is exception enough against men's salvation, though
their temptations be great Some persons delight in iniquity; they take
pleasure in rudeness, and intemperate practices : but there be others, that
do not delight in sin ; when they can handsomely avoid it, they do not
choose it ; except they be under some great necessity, they will not do it
They are afraid to sin ; they think it is dangerous, and have some care to
avoid it: butsometimes they force themselves to sin ; they are reduced to
difficulties, and cannot tell how well to avoid it ; it is a dangerous thing not
to do it. If Naaman do not bow himself in the house of Rimmon, the king
will be in a rage with him, take away his office, it may be take away his
life, and so he complies; 2 Kings v. 18. — So Jeroboam forced himself to set
up the calves at Dan and Bethel : he thought that if the people went up
to Jerusalem to worship, they would return to Rehoboam, and kill him ;
therefore he must think of some expedient to deliver himself in this strait ;
1 Kings xii. 27, 28. He was driven by appearing necessity to take this
wicked course.— So the stony-ground hearers were willing to retain the pro
fession of the true rehgion; but the case was such, that they thought they
could not well do it; Matt. xiii. 21 . " When tribulatiou or persecution ariseth
because ofthe word, by and by he is offended." So Achan and Gehazi had
singular opportunities to get an estate ; if they live twenty years they are
not like to have such an advantage ; and they force themselves to borrow a
point, and break the law of God. They lay a necessity on estate, and
liberty, and life, but not upon obedience. If a man be willing to serve God
in ordinary cases, but excuse himself when there be great difficulties, he is

is the enemy of God ; and unless a saint can change his
God, and yet be a true saint. Nor can a true saint ever
fall away so, that ordinarily there shall be no remarkable
difference in his walk and behaviour since his conversion,
from what was before. They who are truly converted are
new men, new creatures ; new, not only within, but with
out ; they are sanctified throughout, in spirit, soul, and
body ; old things are passed away, all things are become
new. They have new hearts, new eyes, new ears, new
tongues, new hands, new feet ; i. _. a new conversation
and practice ; thev walk in newness of life, and continue
to do so to the end of life. And they that fall away, show
visibly that they never were risen with Christ.J And
especially when men's opinion of their being converted,
and so in a safe estate, is the very cause of their failure,
it is a most evident sign of their hypocrisy.§ And this is
the case, whether their falling away be into their former
sins, or into some new kind of wickedness, having the
corruption of nature only turned into a new channel, in
stead of its being mortified. As when persons that think
themselves converted, though they do not return to former
profaneness and lewdness ; yet from the high opinion they
have of their experiences, graces, and privileges, gradually
settle more and more in a self-righteous and spiritually
proud temper of mind, and in such a manner of beha
viour and conversation, as naturally arises therefrom.
When it is thus with men, however far they may seem to
be from their former evil practices, this alone is enough to
condemn them, and may render their last state far worse
than the first. For this seems to be the very case of the
Jews of that generation of whom Christ speaks, Matt. xii.
43 — 45. They had been awakened by John the Baptist's
preaching, and brought to a reformation of their former
iicentious courses, whereby the unclean spirit was as it
were turned out, and the house swept and garnished ; yet
being empty of God and of grace, full of themselves, and
exalted in an exceeding high opinion of their own right
eousness and eminent holiness, they became habituated to
an answerably self-exalting behaviour. They changed the
sins of publicans and harlots, for those of the Pharisees ;
and in the issue, had seven devils worse than the first.
Thus I have explained what exercise and fruit I mean,
when I say, that gracious affections have their exercise
and fruit in christian practice. The reason why gracious
affections have such a tendency and effect, appears from
many things that have already been observed in the pre
ceding parts of this discourse.
The reason of it appears particularly from this, that
gracious affections arise from those operations and influ
ences which are spiritual, and that the inward principle
from whence they flow, is something divine, a communi
cation of God, a participation of the divine nature, Christ
living in the heart, the Holy Spirit dwelling there, in union
with the faculties of the soul, as an internal vital princi
ple, exerting his own proper nature in the exercise of
those faculties. This is sufficient to show us why true
not godly. It is a small matter to serve God when men have no temptation ;
but Lot was holy in Sodom, Noah was righteous in the old world. Temp
tations try men, but they do not force men to sin : and grace wilt establish
the heart in a day of temptation.— They are blessed that do endure temp
tation, James i. 12. But they are cursed that fall away in a day of temp
tation." Stoddard's Way to know Sincerity and Hypocrisy.
I " Hence we learn what verdict to pass and give in concerning thoso
men that decay and fall off from the Lord. They never had oil in the ves
sel ; never had a dram of grace in their heart. Thus 1 John ii. 19. " Ifthey
had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us." It seems
they were such men, which were so eminent and excellent, as that there
were no brands nor marks upon them, to give notice to the churches, that
they were marked out for apostacy; but were only discovered to be un
sound, by their apostacy ; andthis was argumentgoodenougb." Shepard's
Parable, Part I. p. 226.
§ " When a man's rising is the cause of his fall, or seals a man up in his
fall, or at least the cause through his corruption. Ex. Gr. Time was, a man
lived a loose, careless, carnal life ; by the ministry of some word, or read
ing of some book, or speaking with some friend, he comes to be convinced
ofhis misery and woful condition, and sees no good nor grace in himself;
he hath been even hitherto deceived : at last he comes to get some light,
some taste, some sorrows, some heart to use the means, some comfort and
mercy, and hope of life : and when it is thus with him, now he falls; he
grows full and falls ; and this rising is the cause of his fall ; his light is
darkness and death to him ; and grows to a form of knowledge : his rising
makes him fall to formality, and then to profaneness ; and so his tasting sa
tisfies him ; his sorrows empty his heart of sorrows for sin ; and his sorrows
for his falls harden his heart in his falls; and all the means of recovering
him harden him. — Look as it is in diseases ; if the physic and meat turn to bo
poison, then there is no hope of recovery ; a man is sick to death now. The
saint's little measure makes him forget what is behind." Shepard's Para ¦
We, Part I. p. 226.

Sect. XII.

THEIRoFRUIT IS CHRISTIAN PRACTICE.

317

grace should have such activity, power, and efficacy. No
wonder that what is divine, is powerful and effectual ; for
it has omnipotence on its side. If God dwells in the
heart, and be vitally united to it, he will show that he is a
God by the efficacy of his operation. Christ is not in the
heart of a saint as in a sepulchre, as a dead saviour that
does nothing ; but as in his temple, one that is alive from
the dead. For in the heart where Christ savingly is, there
he lives, and exerts himself after the power of that endless
life, that he received at his resurrection. Thus every saint
who is the subject of the benefit of Christ's sufferings, is
made to knowand experience the power, of his resurrection.
The Spirit of Christ, which is the immediate spring of grace
in the heart, is all life, all power all act ; 2 Cor. ii. 4. — " In
demonstration ofthe Spirit, and of power." 1 Thess. i. 5.
" Our gospel came not unto ybu in word only, but also in
power, and in the Holy Ghost."— 1 Cor. iv. 20. " The
kingdom of God is not in word, but in power." Hence
saving affections, though oftentimes they do not make so
great a noise and show as others ; yet have in them a se
cret solidity, life, and strength, whereby they take hold of
and carry away the heart, leading it into a kind of cap
tivity, 2 Cor. x. 5. gaining a full and stedfast determination
of the will for God and holiness ; Psal. ex. 3. " Thy people
shall be willing in the day of thy power." And thus it is
that holy affections have a governing power in the course
of a man's life. A statue may look very much like a real
man, and a beautiful man ; yea it may have, in its appear
ance to the eye, the resemblance of a very lively, strong,
and active man : but yet an inward principle of life and
strength is wanting ; and therefore it does nothing, it
brings nothing to pass, there is no action or operation to
answer the show. False discoveries and affections do not
go deep enough, to reach and govern the spring of men's
actions and practice. The seed in the stony ground had
not deepness of earth ; the root did not go deep enough to
bring forth fruit. But gracious affections go to the very
bottom of the heart, and take hold of the very inmost
springs of life and activity. Herein chiefly appears tbe
power of true godliness, viz. in its being effectual in prac
tice. And the efficacy of godliness in this respect, is what
the apostle respects, when he speaks of the power of god
liness, 2 Tim. iii. 5. for he there is particularly declaring,
how some professors of religion would notoriously fail in
the practice of it, and then the 5th verse observes, that in
being thus of an unholy practice, they deny the power of
godliness, though they have the form of it. Indeed the
power of godliness is exerted in the first place within the
soul ; in the sensible, lively exercise of gracious affections
there. Yet the principal evidence of this power is in those
exercises of holy affections that are practical ; conquering
the will, the lusts, and corruptions of men, and carrying
them on in the way of holiness, through all temptation,
difficulty, and opposition.
Again, the reason why gracious affections have their ex
ercise and effect in christian practice, appears from this, that
the first objective ground of gracious affections, is the tran-
scendently excellent and amiable nature of divine things,
as they are in themselves, and not any conceived relation they
bear to self, or self-interest. This shows why holy affec
tions will cause men to be holy in their practice universally.
WThat makes men partial in religion is, that they seek them
selves, and not God, in their religion, and close with re
ligion, not for its own excellent nature, but only to serve a
turn. He that closes with religion only to serve a turn,
will close with no more of it than he imagines serves that
turn : but he that closes with religion for its own excellent
and lovely nature, closes with all that has that nature : he
that embraces religion for its own sake, embraces the whole
of religion. This also shows why gracious affections will
cause men to practise religion perseveringly, and at all
times. Religion may alter greatly in process of time, as to
its consistence with men's private interest, in many re
spects ; and therefore he that complies with it only from
selfish views, is liable, in the changes of time, to forsake
it : but the excellent nature of religion, as it is in itself, is
invariable ; it is always the same, at all times, and through
all changes ; it never alters in any respect.
The reason why gracious affections issue in holy practice,
also further appears from the kind of excellency which is

theifoundation of all holy affections, viz. their moral ex
cellency, or the beauty of their holiness. No wonder that a
love to holiness, for holiness' sake, inclines persons to
practise holiness, and to practise every thing that is holy.
Seeing holiness is the main thing that excites, draws, and
governs all gracious affections, no wonder that all such
affections tend to holiness. That which men love, they
desire to have, to be united to, and possessed of. That
beauty which men delight in, they desire to be adorned
with. Those acts which men delight in, they necessarily
incline to do.
And what has been observed of divine teaching and lead
ing ofthe Spirit of God, shows the reason of this tendency
of gracious affections to an universally holy practice. For
as has been observed, the Spirit of God iii this his divine
teaching and leading, gives the soul a natural relish of the
sweetness of that which is holy, and of every thing that is
holy, so far as it comes in view, and excites a disrelish and
disgust of every thing that is unholy.
The same also appears from what has been observed of
the nature of that spiritual knowledge, which is the foun
dation of all holy affection, as consisting in a sense and view
of that excellency in divine things, which is supreme and
transcendent. For hereby these things appear above all
others, worthy to be chosen and adhered to. By the sight
of the transcendent glory of Christ, true Christians see him
worthy to be followed ; and so are powerfully drawn after
him ; they see him worthy that they should forsake all for
him. By the sight of that superlative amiableness, they are
thoroughly disposed to be subject to him, and engaged to
labour with earnestness and activity in his service, and
made willing to go through all difficulties for his sake.
And it is the discovery of this divine excellency of Christ,
that makes them constant to him : for it makes so deep
an impression upon their minds, that they cannot forget
him ; they will follow him whithersoever he goes, and it
is in vain for any to endeavour to draw them away from
him. The reason of this practical tendency and issue of gra
cious affections, further appears, from what has been ob
served of such affections being attended with a thorough
conviction of the reality and certainty of divine things. No
wonder that they who were never thoroughly convinced
that there is any reality in religion, will never be at the la
bour and trouble of such an earnest, universal, and perse
vering practice of religion, through all difficulties, self-de
nials and sufferings, in a dependence on that, of which
they are not convinced. But on the other hand, they who
are thoroughly convinced of the certain truth of those
things, must needs be governed by them in their practice ;
for the things revealed in the word of God are so great, and
so infinitely more important than all others, that it is in
consistent with human nature, that a man should fully
believe their truth, and not be influenced by them above
all things in his practice.
Again, the reason of this- expression and effect of holy
affections in the practice, appears from what has been ob
served of a change of nature, accompanying such affections.
Without a change of nature, mens practice will not be
thoroughly changed. Until the tree be made good, the
fruit will not be good. Men do not gather grapes of thorns,
nor figs of thistles. The swine may be washed, and ap
pear clean for a little while, but yet, without a change of
nature, he will still wallow in the mire. Nature is a more
powerful principle of action, than any thing that opposes
it : though it may be violently restrained for a while, it
will finally overcome that which restrains it. It is like the
stream of a river, it may be stopped a while with a dam,
but if nothing be done to dry the fountain, it will not be
stopped always ; it will have a course, either in its old
channel, or a new one. Nature is a thing more constant
and permanent, than any of those things that are the foun
dation of carnal men's reformation and righteousness.
When a natural man denies his lust, lives a strict, religious
life, and seems humble, painful, and earnest in religion; it
is not natural, it is all a force against nature; as when a
stone is violently thrown upwards. But that force will be
gradually spent; nature will remain in its full strength,
and so prevails again, and the stone returns downwards.
As long as corrupt nature is not mortified, but the princi-

318

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

pie left whole in a man, it is a vain thing to expect that it
should not govern. But if the old nature be indeed mor
tified, and a new heavenly nature infused ; then may it well
be expected, that men will walk in newness of life, and
continue to do so to the end of their days.
The reason of this practical exercise and effect of holy
affections, may also be partly seen, from what has been
said of that spirit of humility, which attends them. Hu
mility is that wherein a spirit of obedience much consists.
A proud spirit is rebellious, but an humble spirit is a sub
missive, obediential spirit. We see among men, that the
servant who is of a haughty spirit, is not apt in every thing
to be submissive and obedient to the will of his master ;
but it is otherwise with toe servant who is of a lowly
spirit. That lamb-like, dove-like spirit, that has been spoken of,
which accompanies all gracious affections, fulfils (as the
apostle observes, Rom. xiii. 8, 9, 10. and Gal. v. 14.) all
the duties of the second table of the law ; wherein chris
tian practice very much consists, and the external practice
of Christianity.
And the reason why gracious affections are attended
with strict, universal, and constant obedience, further
appears, from what has been observed of that tenderness of
spirit, which accompanies the affections of true saints,
causing in them so quick and lively a sense of pain,
through the presence of sin, and such a dread of the ap
pearance of evil.
One great reason why the christian practice which flows
from gracious affections, is universal, constant, and perse
vering, appears from what has been observed of those
affections themselves from whence this practice flows,
being universal and constant, in all kinds of holy exer
cises, and towards all objects, in all circumstances," and at
all seasons, in a beautiful symmetry and proportion.
And much of the reason why holy affections are ex
pressed and manifested in such an earnestness, activity,
engagedness, and perseverance in holy practice, appears
from what has been observed, of the spiritual appetite and
longing after further attainments in religion, which ever
more attends true affection, and does not decay, but
increases as those affections increase. Thus we see how
the tendency of holy affections to such a christian prac
tice as has been explained, appears from each of those
characteristics of holy affection, before spoken of.
And this point may be further illustrated and confirmed,
if it be considered, that the Holy Scriptures abundantly
place sincerity and soundness in religion, in making a full
choice of God as our only Lord and portion, forsaking all
for him, and in a full determination of the will for God
and Christ, on counting the cost ; in our hearts closing
and complying with the religion of Jesus Christ, with all
that belongs to it, embracing it with all its difficulties, as
it were hating our dearest earthly enjoyments, and even
our own lives, for Christ ; giving up ourselves with all
that we have, wholly, and for ever unto Christ, without
keeping back any thing, or making any reserve. In one
word, sincerity consists in the great duty of self-denial for
Christ; or in denying, i. e. as it were disowning and
renouncing, ourselves for him, making ourselves nothing
that he may be all. See the texts to this purpose referred
to in the margin.* Now surely having a heart to forsake
all for Christ, tends to actually forsaking all for him, so
far as there is occasion, and we have the trial. Having a
heart to deny ourselves for Christ, tends to denying our
selves in deed, when Christ and self-interest stand in
competition. A giving up of ourselves, with all that we
have, in our hearts, without making any reserve there,
tends to our behaving ourselves universally as his, as
subject to his will, and devoted to his ends. Our heart-
entirely closing with the religion of Jesus, with all that
* Matt v. 29, 30. Chap. vi. 24. Chap. viii. 19-22. Chap. iv. 18-22.
Chap. x. 37, 38, 39. Chap. xiii. 44, 45, 46. Chap. xvi. 24, 25, 26. Chap.
xviii. 8, 9. Chap. xix. 21, 27, 28, 29. Luke v. 27, 28. Chap. x. «!.
Chap. xii. 33, 34. Chap. xiv. 16—20, 25-33. Chap. xvi. 13. Acts iv. 34, 35.
with Chap. v. 1—11. Rom. vi. 3-8. Gal.ii. 20. Chap. vi. 14. Philip, iii.
7—10. Jam. i. 8, 9. 10. Chap. iv. 4. 1 John ii. 15. Rev. xiv. 4. Gen. xii.
1—1 with Heb. xi. 8, 9, 10. Gen. xxii. 12. and Heb. xi. 17. Chap. xi. 24—
27. Deut xiii. 6. and Chap, xxxiii. 9. Ruth. i. 6— 16. with PsaL xiv. 10, 11.
and 2 Sam. xv. 19—22. Psal lxxxiii. 25. Psal. xvi. 5, 6. Lam. iii. 24.
Jer. x. 16.
t " To profess to know much is easy ; but to bring your affections into
subjection, to wrestle with lusts, to cross your wills and yourselves, upon

belongs to it, and as attended with all its difficulties, upon
a deliberate counting of the cost, tends to an universal
closing with toe same in act and deed, and actually going
through all the difficulties we meet with in the way of
religion, and so holding out with patience and persever
ance. The tendency of grace in toe heart to holy practice, is
very direct, and the connexion most natural, close, and
necessary. True grace is not an inactive thing ; there is
nothing in heaven or earth of a more active nature ; for it
is life itself, the most active kind, even spiritual and
divine life. It is no barren thing ; there is nothing in the
universe that in its nature has a greater tendency to fruit.
Godliness in the heart has as direct a relation to practice,
as a fountain has to a stream, or as the luminous nature of
the sun has to beams sent forth, or as life has to breathing,
or the beating of the pulse, or any other vital act ; or as a
habit or principle of action has to action : for it is the very
nature and notion of grace, that it is a principle of holy
action or practice. Regeneration, which is that work of
God in which grace is infused, has a direct relation to
practice ; for it is toe very end of it, with a view to which
the whole work is wrought. All is calculated and framed,
in this mighty and manifold change wrought in toe soul,
so as directly to tend to this end ; Eph. ii. 10. " For we
are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good
works." Yea it is the very end of the redemption of
Christ ; Tit. ii. 14. " Who gave himself for us, that he
might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto him
self a peculiar people, zealous of good works.*' 2 Cor. v.
15. "He died for all, that they which live, should not
henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who died
for them, and rose again." Heb. ix. 14. " How much
more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal
Spirit, offered himself without spot to God, purge your
conscience from dead works to serve the living God V
Col. i. 21, 22. " And you that were sometimes alienated,
and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now hath
he reconciled, in toe body of his flesh through death, to
present you holy and unblamable, and unreprovable in his
sight." 1 Pet. i. 18. " For as much as ye know that ye
were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and
gold, from your vain conversation." Luke i. 74, 75.
" That he would grant unto us, that we being delivered
out of the hands of our enemies, might serve him without
fear, in holiness and righteousness before him, all toe days
of our life." God often speaks of holy practice, as the
end of that great typical redemption, the redemption from
Egyptian bondage; as Exod. iv. 23. " Let my son go,
that he may serve me." (So chap. iv. 23. and vii. 16. and
viii. 1, 20. and ix. 1, 13. and x. 3.) And this is also
declared to be toe end of election ; John xv. 16. " Ye
have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained
you, that you should go and bring forth fruit, and that
your fruit should remain." Eph. i. 4. " According as he
hath chosen us in him, before the foundation of the world,
that we should be holy, and without blame before him in
love." Chap. ii. 10. " Created unto good works, which
God. hath fore-ordained that we should walk in them."
Holy practice is as much toe end of all that God does
about his saints, as fruit is the end of all the husbandman
does about the growth of his field or vineyard : as toe
matter is often represented in Scripture; (Matt. iii. 10.
chap. xiii. 8, 23—30, 38. chap. xxi. 19, 33, 34. Luke
xiii. 6. John xv. 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 8. 1 Cor. iii. 9. Heb. vi.
7, 8. Isa. v. 1—8. Cant. viii. 11, 12. Isa. xxvii. 2, 3.)f
And therefore every thing in a true Christian is calculated
to reach this end. This fruit of holy practice, is that to
which every grace, every discovery, and every individual
thing which belongs to christian experience, has a direct
tendency .J
every occasion, this is hard. The Lord looketh that in our lives we should
be serviceable to him, and useful to men. That which is within, the Lord
and our brethren are never the better for it : but the outward obedience,
flowing thence, glorifieth God, and does good to men. The Lord will have*
this done. What else is the end of our planting and watering, but that the
trees may he filled with sap ? And what is the end of that sap, but that the
trees may bring forth fruit ? What careth the husbandman for leaves and
barren trees?" — Dr. Preston ofthe Church's Carriage.
! " What is the end of every grace, but to mollify the heart, and make it
pliable to somo command or other ? Look, how many commandments, so
many graces there are in virtue and efficacy, although not so many
several names are given them. The end of every such grace is to make us

Sect. XII.

THEIR FRUIT IS CHRISTIAN PRACTICE.

319

The constant and indissoluble connexion there is be
tween a christian principle and profession in the true
saints, and the fruit of holy practice in their lives, was
typified of old in toe frame of the golden candlestick in
the temple. It is beyond doubt that the golden candle
stick, with its seven branches and seven lamps, was a type
of the church of Christ. The Holy Ghost himself has
been pleased to put that matter out of doubt, by repre
senting his church by such a golden candlestick with seven
lamps, in the fourth chapter of Zechariah, and represent
ing the seven churches of Asia by seven golden candle
sticks, in toe first chapter of the Revelation. That golden
candlestick in the temple was every where, throughout its
whole frame, made with knops and flowers, Exod. xxv. 31,
to the end, and chap, xxxvii. 17 — 24. The word trans
lated knop, in the original signifies apple or pomegranate.
There was a knop and a flower, a knop and a, flower ;
wherever there was a flower, there was an apple or
pomegranate with it ; the flower and the fruit were con
stantly connected, without fail. The flower contained the
principles of the fruit, and a beautiful promising appear
ance of it ; and it never was a deceitful appearance ; the
principle or show of fruit, had evermore real fruit attend
ing it, or succeeding it. So it is in the church of Christ :
there is the gracious principle of fruit in the heart ; and
there is an amiable profession, signified by toe open
flowers of the candlestick ; and there is answerable fruit,
in holy practice, constantly attending this principle and
profession. Every branch of the golden candlestick, thus
composed of golden apples and flowers, was crowned with
a burning, shining lamp on the top of it. For it is by this
means that the saints shine as lights in the world, by
making a fair and good profession of religion, and having
their profession evermore joined with answerable fruit in
practice: agreeable to that of our Saviour, Matt. v. 15,
16. " Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a
bushel, but on a candlestick, and it giveth light unto all that
are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that
they may see your good works, and glorify your Father
which is in heaven." A fair and beautiful profession, and
golden fruits accompanying one another, are the amiable
ornaments of the true church of Christ. Therefore we
find that apples and flowers were not only toe ornaments
of the candlestick in the temple, but of the temple itself,
which is a type of the church ; which the apostle tells us,
is the temple of the living God. See 1 Kings vi. 1 8. " And
the cedar of the house within was carved with knops, and
open flowers." The ornaments and crown of the pillars,
at the entrance of the temple, were of the same sort :
they were lilies and pomegranates, or flowers and fruits,
mixed together, 1 Kings vii. 18, 19. So it is with all
those that are as pillars in the temple of God, who shall go
no more out, or never be ejected as intruders ; as it is with
all true saints ; Rev. iii. 12. " Him that overcometh, will
I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go
no more out."
obedient ; as the end of temperance is chastity, to bow the heart to these
commands. Be ye sober, fyc. not in chambering and wantonness, fyc.
When the Lord commandeth us not to be angry with our brother, the end
of meekness, and why the Lord infuseth it, is to keep us from unadvised
rash anger. So faith, the end of it is to take Jesus Christ, to make us obe
dient to the command of the gospel, which commands us to believe in him.
So as all graces do join together, but to frame and fashion the soul to obe
dience : then so much obedience as is in your lives, so much grace in your
hearts, and no more. Therefore ask your hearts, how subject you are to
the Lord in your lives ? It was the counsel that Francis Spira gave to them
about him, saith he. Learn all of me to take heed of severing faith and
obedience : I taught justification by faith, but neglected obedience ; and
therefore is this befallen me. I have known some godly men, whose com
fort on their death-beds hath been not from the inward acts of their minds,
which apart considered, might be subject to misapprehensions, but from the
course of obedience in their lives, issuing thence. Let Christians look to it,
that in all their conversation, as they stand in every relation, as scholars,
tradesmen, husbands, wives, look to this, that when they come to die, they
have been subject in all things. This will yield comfort." Dr. Preston's
Church's Carriage.
* " No unregenerate man, though he go never so far, let him do never so
much, but he lives in some one sin or other, secret or open, little or great.
Judas went far, but he was covetous : Herod went far, but he loved his
Herodias. Every dog hath his kennel : every swine hath his swill ; and
every wicked man his lust" Shepard's Sincere Convert, 1st edition,
p. 96.
" There is never an unsound heart in the world, but as they say of
witches, they have some familiar that sucks them, so they have some iust
that is beloved of them, some beloved there is they have given a promise to
never to forsake." Shepard's Parable, Part. I. p. 15.
" No man that is married to the law, but bis fig-leaves cover some naked
ness. All his duties ever brood some lust. There is some one sin or other
the man lives in; which either the Lord discovers, and he will not part
with, as the young man ; or else is so spiritual, he cannot see all his iife-

Much the same thing seems to be signified by the orna
ments on the skirt of the ephod, the garment of Aaron
the high priest; which were golden bells and pome
granates. That these skirts of Aaron's garment represent
the church, or the saints, (that are as it were the garment
of Christ,) is manifest ; for they are evidently so spoken
of, Psal. cxxxiii. 1, 2. " Behold, how good and how
pleasant it is, for brethren to dwell together in unity ! lt
is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down
upon the beard, even Aaron's beard, that went down to
the skirts of his garments." That ephod of Aaron signi
fied the same with the seamless coat of Christ our
great High Priest. As Christ's coat had no seam, but
was woven from the top throughout, so was the ephod,
Exod. xxxix. 22. As God took care in his providence,
that Christ's coat should not be rent ; so God took special
care that the ephod should not be rent ; (Exod. xxviii. 32.
and chap, xxxix. 23.) The golden bells on this ephod, by
their precious matter and pleasant sound, well represent
the good profession that the saints make ; and the pome
granates, the fruit they bring forth. And as in the hem of
the ephod, bells and pomegranates were constantly con
nected, as is once and again observed, there was " a golden
bell and a pomegranate, a golden bell and a pomegranate,"
(Exod. xxviii. 34. and chap, xxxix. 26.) so it is in the
true saints ; their good profession and their good fruit,
constantly accompany one another : toe fruit they bring
forth in life, evermore answers the pleasant sound of their
profession. Again, the very same thing is represented by Christ, in
his description of his spouse, Cant. vii. 2. " Thy belly is
like an heap of wheat, set about with lilies." Here again
are beautiful flowers, and good fruit, accompanying one
another. The lilies were fair and beautiful flowers, and the
wheat was good fruit.
As this fruit of christian practice is evermore found in
true saints, according as they have opportunity and trial,
so it is found in them only ; none brt true Christians do
live such an obedient life, so universally devoted to their
duty, and given up to the business of a Christian, as has
been explained. All unsanctified men are workers of ini
quity : they are of their father the devil, and toe lusts of
their father they will do. — There is no hypocrite that will
go through with the business of religion, will both begin
and finish the tour. They will not endure the trials God
is wont to bring on the professors of religion, but will turn
aside to their crooked ways ; they will not be thoroughly
faithful to Christ in their practice, and follow him whither
soever he goes. Whatever lengths they may go in religion
in some instances, though they may appear exceeding
strict, and mightily engaged in the service of God for a
season ; yet they are servants to sin ; the chains of their
old task-masters are not broken. Their lusts yet have a
reigning power in their hearts ; and therefore to these mas
ters they will bow down again.* Dan. xii. 10. " Many
shall be purified, and made white, and tried : but the
time. Read through the strictest of all, and see this. Matt, xxiii. Painted
sepulchres. Paul that was blameless, yet (Eph. ii. 3. Tit. iii. 3.) served
divers lusts and pleasures. And the reason is, the law is not the ministra
tion of the Spirit, 2 Cor. iii. 8, 9. which breaks off from every sin. There is
no law that can give life, Gai. iii. 21. and hence many men have strong reso
lutions, and break all again. Hence men sin and sorrow, and pray again,
and then go with more ease in their sin. Examine thyself; is there any
living lust with thy righteousness ? It is sure, it is a righteousness thou art
married to, and never wert yet matched to Christ." Shepard's Parable,
Part I. p. 19, 20.
" No hypocrite, though he closeth with Christ, and for a time grow up in
knowledge of and communion with Christ, but he hath at that time hidden
lusts and thorns that overgrow his growings, and choke all at last, and in
conclusion meditates a league between Christ and his lusts, and seeks to
reconcile them together." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 109.
" —Their faith is in such a party, as never was yet thoroughly rent from
sin. And here is the great wound ofthe most cunning hypocrites living. Let a
man be cast down as low as hell with sorrow, and lie under chains, quaking
in apprehension of terror to come ; let a man then be raised up to heaven in
joy, not able to In e ; iet a man reform and shine like an earthly angel : yet
if not rent from lust, that either you did never see it, or if so. you have not
followed the Led to remove it, but proud, dogged, worldly, sluggish still,
false in your dealings, cunning in your tradings, devils in your families,
images in your churches ; you are objects of pity now. and shall be of terror
at the great day. For where sin remains in power, it will bring faith, and
Christ, and joy into bondage and service of itself." Shepard s Parable,
Part I. p. 125.
" Metbinks it is with the best hypocrites, as it is with divers old mer
chants : they prize and desire the gain of merchandise ; but to be at the
trouble to prepare the ship, to put themselves upon the hazard and dangers
ofthe ship, to go and fetch the treasure that they prize, this they will never
do. So many prize and desire earnestly the treasures of heaven ; but to be
at the trouble of a heaven-voyage to fetch this treasure, to pass through the
valley of Baca, tears, temptations, tbe powers of darkew. the breaches.

320

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III

wicked will do wickedly : and none of the wicked shall
understand." Isa. xxvi. 10." Let favour be showed to the
wicked, yet will he not learn righteousness : in the land of
uprightness will he deal unjustly." Isa. xxxv. 8. " And
an high-way shall be there, and a way, and it shall be
called The way of holiness ; the unclean shall not pass
over it." Hos. xiv. 9. "The ways of the Lord are right,
and the just shall walk in them : but the transgressors
shall fall therein." Job xxvii. 8, 9, 10. " What is the
hope of the hypocrite '—Will he delight himself in the
Almighty ? will he always call upon God ?" An unsanc
tified man may hide his sin, and may in many things and
for a season refrain from sin ; but he will not be brought
finally to renounce, and give it a bill of divorce : sin is
too dear to him, for him to be willing for that ; " Wicked
ness is sweet in his mouth: and therefore he hides it
under his tongue ; he spares it, and forsakes it not ; but
keeps it still within his mouth," Job xx. 12, 13. Herein
chiefly consists the straitness of the gate, and the narrow
ness of the way that leads to life ; on account of which,
carnal men will not go in thereat, viz. that it is a way of
utterly denying and finally renouncing all ungodliness, and
so a way of self-denial or self-renunciation.
Many natural men, under the means used, and God's
strivings with them, do by their sins as Pharaoh did by
his pride and covetousness ; these he gratified by their
keeping the children of Israel in bondage, when God strove
with him to let the people go. When God's hand pressed
Pharaoh sore, and he was exercised with fears of God's
future wrath, he entertained some thoughts of letting the
people go, and promised he would do it : but from time
to time Tie broke his promises, when he saw there was res
pite. When God filled Egypt with thunder and light
ning, and the fire ran along the ground, then Pharaoh is
brought to confess his sin with seeming humility, and to
have a great resolution to let the people go, Exod. ix. 27,
28. " And Pharaoh sent, and called for Moses and Aaron,
and said unto them, I have sinned this time : the Lord is
righteous, and I and my people are wicked : entreat the
Lord (for it is enough) that there be no more mighty thun-
derings and hail ; and I will let you go, and ye shall stay
no longer." So sinners are sometimes by thunders and
lightnings, and great terrors ofthe law, brought to a seem
ing work of humiliation, and to an appearance of parting
with their sins ; but are no more thoroughly brought to a
disposition to dismiss them, than Pharaoh was to let the
people go. Pharaoh in the struggle between his conscience
and his lusts, was for contriving that God might be served,
and he to enjoy his lusts, that were gratified by the slavery
of the people. Moses insisted that Israel's God should be
served : Pharaoh was willing to consent to that ; but
would have it done without his parting with the people ;
" Go sacrifice to your God in toe land," says he, Exod. viii.
25. So, many sinners are for contriving to serve God, and
enjoy their lusts too. Moses objected against complying
with Pharaoh's proposal, because serving God, and yet
continuing in Egypt under their task-masters, did not
agree together, and were inconsistent. After this Pharaoh
opposition, and contradictions of a sinful unbelieving heart, good and evil
report, to pass from one depth and wave to another, this the best hypocrite
fails in ; and hence loses all at last And this I conceive tobeoneoftbe
great differences between the strong desires and esteems of hypocrites and
saints.— Look, as it is with men that have two trades, or two shops ; one is
as much as ever they can follow or tend : they are forced at last to put off
one, and they must neglect one ; so here. That spirit of sloth and slumber,
which the Lord ever leaves the best hypocrite to, so mightily oppresseth
all their senses, that they cannot use effectually all means to accomplish
their ends. And hence a man desires the end, but has it not; Prov. xiii. 4."
Shepard's Parable, Parti, p. 150, 151.
" Read through all the Scripture ; constantly, never any hypocrites but
they had this brand. Matt vii 23. You workers of iniquity. Shepard's
Parable, Part 1. p. 195.
" A camal man may hit upon some good duty that God commands, and
refrain from some sin that God forbids ; but to go through, he cannot : to
take up reproach and disgrace, to lose bis credit, to forsake his friends, to
lose honour, and riches, and pleasures ; this be will not do, until he be
humbled." Dr. Preston on Paul's Conversion.
"So it is with men, because they want humiliation. Therefore theirpro-
fession and _iey do not continue, but part willingly one from another. They
will do some things, but not all things : and they will forego some things,
but not all things. — And therefore our Saviour saith, Luke xiv. " He that
will not forsake all for my sake, is not worthy of me." He is not worth the
saving, that prizes not me above all things whatsoever. And a man will not
prize Christ, nor forsake all things for Christ, until he be humbled." Ibid.
* " The counterfeit and common grace of foolish virgins, after some
time of glorious profession, will certainly go out and be quite spent. It
consumes in the using, and shining, and burning. — Men that have been most
forward, decay ; their gifts decay, life decays.— It is so, after some time of

consented to let the people go, provided they would not
go far away : he was not willing to part with them finally,
and therefore would have them within reach. So do
many hypocrites with respect to their sins. Afterwards
Pharaoh consented to let the men go, if they would leave
the women and children, Exod. x. 8—10. And then after
that, when God's hand was yet harder upon him, he con
sented that they should go, even women and children, as
well as men, provided they would leave their cattle behind :
but he was not willing to let them go, and all that they
had, Exod. x. 24. So it oftentimes is with sinners ; they
are willing to part with some of their sins, but not all ;
they are brought to part with toe more gross acts of sin,
but not to part with their lusts, in lesser indulgencies of
them. Whereas we must part with all our sins, little and
great ; and all that belongs to them, men, women, children,
and cattle: they must all be let go, with their young, and
with their old, with their sons, and with their daughters,
with their flocks, and with their herds, there must not be an
hoof left behind: as Moses told Pharaoh, with respect to
the children of Israel. At last, when it came to extremity,
Pharaoh consented to let the people all go, and all that
they had ; but he was not stedfastly of that mind ; he
soon repented, and pursued after them again. The reason
was, that those lusts of pride and covetousness, which
were gratified by Pharaoh^ dominion over the people, and
the gains of their service, were never really mortified in
him, but only violently restrained. And thus, he being
guilty of backsliding, after his seeming compliance with
God's commands, was destroyed without remedy. Thus
there may be a forcing parting with ways of disobedience
to the commands of God, that may seem to be universal,
as to what appears for a little season : but because it is
a mere force, without the mortification of the inward prin
ciple of sin, they will not persevere in it; but will return as
the dog to his vomit ; and so bring on themselves dread
ful and remediless destruction. There were many false
disciples in Christ's time, that followed him for a while ;
but none of them followed him to the end ; some on one
occasion, and some on another, went back and walked no
more with him.*
From what has been said, it is manifest, that christian
practice, or a holy life, is a great and distinguishing sign of
true and saving grace. But I may go further, and assert,
that it is the chief of all the signs of grace, both as an evi
dence of the sincerity of professors unto others, and also
to their own consciences.
But then it is necessary that this be rightly taken, and
that it be well understood and observed, in what sense and
manner christian practice is the greatest sign of grace.
Therefore, to set this matter in a clear light, I will en
deavour particularly and distinctly to prove, that christian
practice is the principal sign by which Christians are to
judge, both of their own and others' sincerity of godliness ;
withai observing some things that are needful to be par
ticularly noted, in order to a right understanding of this
matter.

profession : for at first, it rather grows than decays and withers : but after
ward they have enough of it, it withers and dies.— The Spirit of God comes
upon many hypocrites, in abundant and plentiful measure of awakening
grace ; it comes upon them, as it did upon Balaam, and as it is in overflow
ing waters, which spread far, and grow very deep, and fill many empty
places.— Though it doth come upon them so, yet it doth never rest within,
so as to dwell there, to take up an eternal mansion for himself.— Hence it
doth decay by httle and little ; until at last it is quite gone. As ponds filled
with rain-water, which comes upon them ; not spring water, that riseth up
within them : it drys up by little and little, until quite dry." Shepard's
Parable, Part II. p 58, 59. i j p
" Some men may apprehend Christ, neither out of fear of misery nor only
to preserve some sin ; but God lets in light and heat of the blessed beams of
the glorious gospel of the Son of God : and therefore there is mercy, rich,
free, sweet, for damned, great, vile sinners : Good Lord, saith the soul,
what a sweet ministry, word, God, and gospel is this ! and there rests. This
was the frame of the stony ground ; which heard the word, and received it
with joy, and for a time believed. And this is the case of thousands that
are much affected with the promise and mercy of Christ, and hang upon
free grace for a time : but asitis with sweet smells in a room, they continue
not long ; or as flowers, they grow old and withered, and then fall. In time
of temptation, lust, and world, and sloth, is more sweet than Christ, and all
his gospel is." Shepard's Parable, Part II. p. 168.
"Never any camal heart, but some root of bitterness did grow uo at last
m this soil." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 195.
" We shall see in experience : take the best professors living ¦ though thev
may come, as they and others judged, to the Lord, and follow "the Lord- vet
they will in time depart The Spirit never was given effectually to draw
them, nor yet to keep them." Shepard's Parable, Part I, p. 205

Sect. XIII.

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEE SIGN TO OTHERS.

321

SECT. XIII.
Christian practice or holy life, is a manifestation and sign
ofthe sincerity of 'a professing Christian, to the eye of his
neighbours and brethren.
And that this is the chief sign of grace in this respect, is
very evident from toe word of God. Christ, who knew
best how to give us rules to judge of others, has repeated,
and inculcated the rule, that we should know them by their
fruits ; Matt. vii. 16. " Ye shall know them by their fruits."
And then after arguing the point, and giving clear reasons,
why men's fruits must be the chief evidence of what sort
they are, in the following verses, he closes by repeating
the assertion ; ver. 20. " Wherefore by their fruits ye shall
know them." Again, chap. xii. 33. " Either make the tree
good, and his fruit good ; or else make the tree corrupt,
and his fruit corrupt." — As much as to say, it is a very
absurd thing, for any to suppose that the tree is good, and
yet the fruit bad ; that the tree is of one sort, and the fruit
of another ; for the proper evidence of the nature of the
tree is its fruit. Nothing else can be intended by that last
clause in the verse, " For the tree is known by its fruit,"
than that the tree is chiefly known by its fruit, that this is
the main and most proper diagnostic by which one tree is
distinguished from another. So Luke vi. 44. " Every tree
is known by his own fruit." Christ no where says, Ye
shall know the tree by its leaves or flowers ; or ye shall
know men by their talk, by the good story they tell of their
experiences, by the manner and air of their speaking, or
emphasis and pathos of expression ; or ye shall know them
by their speaking feelingly, or by abundance of talk, or by
many tears and affectionate expressions, or by the affections
ye feel in your hearts towards them : but by their fruits
shall ye know tliem ; the tree is known by its fruit ; every
tree is known by its own fruit. And as this is the evidence
that Christ has directed us mainly to look at it in others,
in judging of them, so it is the evidence that Christ has
mainly directed us to give to others, whereby they may
judge of us ; Matt. v. 16. " Let your light so shine before
men, that others seeing your good works, may glorify your
Father which is in heaven." Here Christ directs us to
manifest our godliness to others. Godliness is as it were a
light that shines in toe soul : Christ directs that this light
should not only shine within, but that it should shine out
before men, that they may see it. But which way shall
this be t It is by our good works. Christ doth not say,
that others hearing your good words, your good story, or
your pathetical expressions ; but that others seeing your
good works, may glorify your Father which is in heaven.
Doubtless when Christ gives us a rule how to make our
light shine, that others may have evidence of it, his rule is
the best. And the apostles mention a christian practice,
as the principal ground of their esteem of persons as true
Christians. • As the apostle Paul, in the 6th chapter of
Hebrews. There the apostle, in the beginning of the chap
ter, speaks of persons who have great common illumina
tions, who have been enlightened, and have tasted of the
Iteavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost,,
and have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of
the world to come, who afterwards fall away, and are like
barren ground, that is nigh unto cursing, whose end is to be
burned : and then he immediately adds in the 9th verse,
(expressing his charity for the christian Hebrews, as having
that saving grace, which is better than all these common
illuminations,) " But, beloved, we are persuaded better
things of you, and things that accompany salvation : though
we thus speak." And then in the next verse, he tells them
what was the reason he had such good thoughts of them :
he does not say, that it was because they had given him a
good account of a work of God upon their souls, and talk
ed very experimentally ; but it was their work, and labour
of love ; " for God is not unrighteous, to forget your work,
and labour of love, which ye have showed towards his
name, in that ye have ministered to the saints, and do
minister." And the same apostle speaks of faithfully
berving God in practice, as the proper proof to others of
men's loving Christ above all, and preferring his honour to
their private interest, Phil. ii. 21, 22. " For all seek their
own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's : but ye know

the proof of him, that as a son with the father, he hath
served with me in the gospel." So the apostle John ex
presses the same, as the ground of his good opinion of
Gaius, 3 John 3 — 6. " For I rejoiced greatly when the
brethren came and testified of the truth that is in thee."
But how did the brethren testify of the truth that was in
Gaius '! and how did the apostle judge of the truth that
was in him '! it was not because they testified that he had
given them a good account of the steps of his experiences,
and talked like one that felt what he said, and had the
very language of a Christian : but they testified, " that he
walked in the truth :" as it follows, " even as thou walkest
in the truth. I have no greater joy than to hear that my
children walk in the truth. Beloved, thou dost faithfully
whatsoever thou dost to the brethren, and to strangers :
which have borne witness of thy charity before the church."
Thus the apostle explains what the brethren had borne
witness of, when they came and testified of his walking in
the truth. And the apostle seems in this same place, to
give it as a rule to Gaius how he should judge of others.
In verse 10. he mentions one Diotrephes, that did not con
duct himself well, and led away others after him ; and then
in the 1 1th verse, he directs Gaius to beware of such, and
not to follow them : and gives him a rule whereby he may
know them, exactly agreeable to that rule Christ had given
before, " by their fruits ye shall know them," says the
apostle, " Beloved, follow not that which is evii, but that
which is good. He that doth good, is of God : but he that
doth evil, hath not seen God." And I would further ob
serve, that the apostle James, expressly comparing that
way of showing others our, faith and Christianity by our
practice or works, with other ways of showing our faith
without works, or not by works, does plainly and abun
dantly prefer the former; Jam. ii. 18. " Yea, a man may
say, Thou hast faith, and I have works : show me thy faith
without thy works, and I will show thee my faith by my
works." A manifestation of our faith without works, or in
a way diverse from works, is a manifestation of it in words,
whereby a man professes faith. As the apostle says, ver.
14. " What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say
he hath faith ?" — Therefore here are two ways of manifest
ing to our neighbour what is in our hearts ; one by what
we say, and the other by what we do. But the apostle
abundantly prefers the latter as the best evidence. Now
certainly all accounts we give of ourselves in words, our
saying that we have faith, and that we are converted ; tell
ing the manner how we came to have faith, the steps by
which it was wrought, and the discoveries and experiences
that accompanied it, are still but manifesting our faith by
what we say ; it is but showing our faith by our words ;
which the apostle speaks of as falling vastly short of mani
festing of it by what we do, and showing our faith by our
works. And as the Scripture plainly teaches, that practice is the
best evidence of the sincerity of professing Christians ; so
reason teaches the same thing. Reason shows, that men's
deeds are better and more faithful interpreters of their
minds, than their words. The common sense of all man
kind, through all ages and nations, teaches them to judge
of men's hearts chiefly by their practice, in other matters :
as, whether a man be a loyal subject, a true lover, a duti
ful child, or a faithful servant. If a man professes a great
deal of love and friendship to another, reason teaches all
men, that such a profession is not so great an evidence of
his being a real and hearty friend, as his appearing a friend
in deeds ; being faithful and constant to his friend, in
prosperity and adversity, ready to lay out himself, and deny
himself, and suffer in his personal interest, to do him a
kindness. A wise man will trust to such evidences of the
sincerity of friendship, further than a thousand earnest pro
fessions and solemn declarations, and most affectionate ex
pressions of friendship in words. And there is equal reason,
why practice should also be looked upon as the best evi
dence of friendship towards Christ. Reason says the same
that Christ said, in John xiv. 21. " He that hath my com
mandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me."
Thus if we see a man, who in the course of his life seems
to follow and imitate Christ, and greatly to exert and
deny himself for his honour, and to promote his kingdom
and interest in the world ; reason teaches, that this, is an

322

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

evidence of love to Christ, more to be depended on, than
if a man only says he has love to him, and tells of his in
ward experiences, what strong love he felt, and how his
heart was drawn out in love at such and such a time ; when
it may be there appears but little imitation of Christ in his
behaviour. He seems backward to do any great matter
for him, or to put himself out of his way for the promoting
of his kingdom, but seems to be apt to excuse himself
whenever he is called to deny himself for Christ. So if a
man, in declaring his experiences, tells how he found his
heart weaned from the world, and saw the vanity of it, so
that all looked as nothing to him at such and such times,
and professes that he gives up all to God, and calls heaven
and earth to witness to it : but yet in his practice is violent
in pursuing the world, what he gets he keeps close, is ex
ceeding loth to part with much of it to charitable and pious
uses, it comes from him almost like his heart's blood. But
there is another professing Christian, that says not a great
deal, yet in his behaviour appears ready at all times to for
sake the world, whenever it stands in the way of his duty,
and is free to part with it at any time, to promote religion
and the good of his fellow-creatures. Reason teaches, that
the latter gives far the most credible manifestation of a
heart weaned from the world. And if a man appears to
walk humbly before God and men, and to be of a conver
sation that savours of a broken heart, appearing patient and
resigned to God under affliction, and meek in his beha
viour amongst men ; this is a better evidence of hu
miliation, than if a person only tells how great a sense he
had of his own unworthiness — how he was brought to lie
in toe dust, quite emptied of„ himself, and to see himself
all over filthy and abominable, &c. &c. — but yet acts as if
he looked upon himself one of the first and best of saints,
and by just right the head of all .the Christians in the
town. He is assuming, self-willed, and impatient of the
least contradiction or opposition ; we may be assured in
such a case, that a man's practice comes from a lower
place in his heart, than his profession. So (to mention no
more instances) if a professor of Christianity manifest in
his behaviour a tender spirit towards others in calamity,
ready to bear their burdens with them, willing to spend
his substance for them, and to suffer many inconveniences
in his worldly interest to promote the good of others' souls
and bodies ; is not this a more credible manifestation of a
spirit of love to men, than only a man's telling what love
he felt to others at certain times — how he pitied their souls,
how his soul was in travail for them, and how he felt a
hearty love and pity to his enemies — when in his behaviour
he seems to be of a very selfish spirit, close and niggardly,
all for himself, and none for his neighbours, and perhaps
envious and contentious ? Persons in a pang of affection
may think they have a willingness of heart for great
things, to do much and to suffer much, and so may pro
fess it very earnestly and confidently, when really their
hearts are far from it. Thus many in toeir affectionate
pangs have thought themselves willing to be damned eter
nally for the glory of God. Passing affections easily pro
duce words ; and words are cheap ; and godliness is more
easily feigned in words than in actions. Christian prac
tice is a costly laborious thing. The self-denial that is
required of Christians, the narrowness ofthe way that leads
to life, does not consist in words, but in practice.. Hypo
crites may much more easily be brought to talk like saints
than to act like saints.
Thus it is plain, that christian practice is the best sign
or manifestation of the true godliness of a professing
Christian, to the eye of his neighbours. But then, the fol
lowing things should be well observed, that this matter
may be rightly understood :
First, It must be observed, that when the Scripture
speaks of christian practice, as the best evidence to others
of sincerity and truth of grace, a profession of Christianity is
not excluded, but supposed. The rules mentioned, were
rules given to the followers of Christ, to guide them in
their thoughts of professing Christians, and those that
offered themselves as some of their society, whereby they
might judge of the truth of their pretences, and the sin
cerity of the profession they made ; and not for the trial
of heathens, or those who made no pretence to Christianity,
and with whom Christians had nothing to do. This is as

plain as possible in toat great rule which Christ gives in
the 7th of Matthew, " By toeir fruits ye shall know them."
He there gives a rule how to judge of professed Chris
tians, yea those who made a very high profession, " false
prophets, who come in sheep's clothing, ' as ver. 15. So
that passage of the apostle James, chap. ii. 18. " Show me
thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee my faith
by my works." It is evident, toat both these sorts of
persons, offering to give these diverse evidences of their
faith, are professors of faith ; this is implied in each offer
ing to give evidences of the faith professed. And it is
evident by the preceding verses, that toe apostle is speak
ing of professors of faith in Jesus Christ. So it is very
plain that the apostle John, in those passages observed in
his third epistle, is speaking of professing Christians.
Though in these rules, the christian practice of professors
be spoken of as the greatest and most distinguishing sign
of their sincerity, much more evidential than their pro
fession itself; yet a profession of Christianity is plainly
pre-supposed. /It is not the main thing in the evidence,
nor any thing distinguishing; yet it is a thing requisite
and necessary in it. As having an animal body, is not
any thing distinguishing of a man from other creatures,
and is not the main thing in the evidence of human
nature ; yet it is a thing requisite and necessary in the
evidence. So that if any man should say plainly that he
was not a Christian, and did not believe that Jesus was the
Son of God, or a person sent of God ; these rules of Christ
and his apostles do not at all oblige us to look upon him
as a sincere Christian, let his visible practice and virtues
be what they will. And not only do these rules take no
place with respect to a man that explicitly denies Chris
tianity, and is a professed deist, Jew, heathen, or open
infidel ; but also with respect to a man that only forbears
to make a profession of Christianity : because these rules
were given us only to judge of professing Christians;
fruits must be joined with open flowers ; bells and pome
granates go together.
But here will naturally arise this inquiry, viz. When a
man may be said to profess Christianity ? or, what profes
sion may properly be called a profession of Christianity ?
I answer in two things :
1 . In order to a man's being properly said to make a
profession of Christianity, there must undoubtedly be a
profession of all toat is necessary to his being a Christian,
or of so much as belongs to the essence of Christianity.
Whatsoever is essential in Christianity itself, the profession
of toat is essential in the profession of Christianity. The
profession must be of toe thing professed. For a man to
profess Christianity, is for him to declare toat he has it.
And therefore so much as belongs to the true denomina
tion of a thing ; so much is essential to a true declaration
of that thing. If we take only a part of Christianity, and
leave out a part which is essential to it, what we take is
not Christianity ; because something of the essence of it is
wanting. So if we profess only a part, and leave out a part
that is essential, that which we profess is not Christianity.
Thus in order to a profession of Christianity, we must pro
fess that we believe that Jesus is the Messiah ; for this
reason, because such a belief is essential to Christianity.
And so we must profess, either expressly or implicitly,
that Jesus satisfied for our sins, and other essential doc
trines of the gospel, because a belief of these things also
are essential to Christianity. But there are other things as
essential to religion, as an orthodox belief; which it is
therefore as necessary that we should profess, in order to
^our being truly said to profess Christianity. Thus it is
essential to Christianity that we repent of our sins, that we
be convinced of our own sinfulness, that we are sensible
we have justly exposed ourselves to God's wrath; that
our hearts renounce all sin, that we do with our whole
hearts embrace Christ as our only Saviour, that we love
him above all, are willing for his sake to forsake all, and
that we give up ourselves to be entirely and for ever his,
&c. Such things as these as much belong to the essence
of Christianity, as the belief of any of the doctrines of the
gospel ; and therefore the profession of them as much be
longs to a christian jrqfession. Not that in order to
persons being 'professing Christians, it is necessary that
there should be an explicit profession of every individual

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEF SIGN TO OTHERS.

Sect. XIII.
thing that belongs to christian grace or virtue : but cer
tainly, there must be a profession, either express or im
plicit, of what is of the essence of religion. And as to
those things that Christians should express in their profes
sion, we ought to be guided by the precepts of God's
word, or by scripture-examples of public professions of
religion, which God's people have made from time to time.
Thus they ought to profess their repentance of sin; as ;
t)f old, when_ persons were initiated as professors, they J
came, confessing their sins, manifesting their humiliation
for sin, Matt. hi. 6. And the baptism they were baptized
with, was called the baptism of repentance, Mark i. 3.
And John, when he had baptized them, exhorted them to
"' bring forth fruits meet for repentance," Matt. iii. 8. i. e.
agreeable to that repentance which they had professed ; en
couraging them, toat if they did so, they should escape the
wrath to come, and be gathered as wheat into God's
garner, Matt. iii. 7, 8—10, 12. So the apostle Peter says
to toe Jews, Acts ii. 38. "Repent, and be baptized;"
which shows, that repentance is a qualification toat must
be visible, in order to baptism ; and therefore ought to be
publicly professed. So when the Jews that returned from
captivity, entered publicly into covenant, it was with con
fession, or public profession of repentance of their sins,
Neh. ix. 2. This profession of repentance should include
or imply a profession of conviction, that God would be
just in our damnation : (see Neh. ix. 33 — 35. and chap.
x.) They should profess their faith in Jesus Christ, that
they embrace Christ, rely upon him as toeir Saviour with
their whole hearts, and joyfully entertain his gospel. Thus
Philip, in order to his baptizing the eunuch, required him
to profess, that he believed with all his heart. They who
were receive'- as visible Christians, at that great out-pour
ing of the Spirit, which began at toe day of Pentecost,
appeared gladly to receive the gospel : Acts ii. 41 . " Then
they that gladly received the word, were baptized : and
the same day there were added unto them about three
thousand souls." They should profess that they rely only
•on Christ's righteousness and strength, that they are de
voted to him as their only Lord and Saviour, and that
they rejoice in him as their only righteousness and portion.
It is foretold, that all nations should be brought publicly
to make this profession, Isa. xiv. 22, &c. " Look unto me,
and be ye saved, all the ends of toe earth : for I am God,
and there is none else. I have sworn by myself, the word
is gone out of my mouth in righteousness, and shall not
return, that unto me every knee shall bow, every tongue
shall swear. Surely, shall one say, In the Lord have I
righteousness and strength : even unto him shall men
come, and all that are incensed against him shall be
ashamed. In the Lord shall all the seed of Israel be
justified, and shall glory." They should profess to give
up themselves entirely to Christ, and to God through
him ; as the children of Israel, when they publicly recog
nised their covenant with God; Deut. xxvi. 17." Thou
hast avouched the Lord this day to be thy God, and to
walk in his ways, and to keep his statutes, and his com
mandments, and his judgments, and to hearken unto his
voice." They ought to profess a willingness of heart to
embrace religion with all its difficulties, and to walk in a
way of obedience to God universally and perseveringly ;
(Exod. xix. 8. and xxiv. 3, 7. Deut. xxvi. 16—18. 2 Kings
xxiii. 3. Neh. x. 28, 29. Ps. cxix. 57, 106.) They ought
to profess, that all their hearts and souls are in these en
gagements to be the Lord's, and for ever to serve him ;
2 Chron. xv. 12 — 14. God's people swearing by his name,
or to his name, as it might be rendered, (by which seems
to be signified their solemnly giving up themselves to him
in covenant, and vowing to receive him as their God, and
to be entirely his, to obey and serve him,) is spoken of as a
duty to be performed bv all God's visible Israel ; (Deut.
vi. 13. and x. 20. Ps. lxiii. 11. Isa. xix. 18. chap. xiv. 23,
24. compared with Rom. xiv. 11. and Phil. ii. 10, 11. Isa.
xlviii. 1, 2. and ixv. 15, 16. Jer. iv. 2. and v. 7. and xii.
16. Hos. iv. 15. and x. 4.) Therefore, in order to persons
being entitled to full esteem and charity, with their neigh
bours, as being sincere professors of Christianity ; by those
fore-mentioned rules of Christ and his apostles, there must
be a visibly holy life, with a profession, either expressing,
or plainly implying, such things as those which have been
y 2

325

now mentioned. We are to know them by their fruits :
that is, we are by their fruits to know whether they be
what fhey profess to be ; not that we are to know by their
fruits, that they have something in them, to which they do
not so much as pretend. Moreover,
2. That profession of these things, which is properly
called a christian profession, and which must be joined with
christian practice, in order to persons being entitled to the
benefit of those rules, must be made (as to what appears)
understanding^!/ : that is, they must be persons that appear
to have been so far instructed in the principles of religion,
as to be in an ordinary capacity to understand the proper
import of what is expressed in toeir profession. For
sounds are no significations or declarations of any thing,
any further than men understand the meaning of their own
sounds. But in order to persons making a proper profession of
Christianity, such as the Scripture directs, and such as the
followers of Christ should require, in order to the accept
ance of professors, with full charity, as of their society ;
it is not necessary they should give an account of the
particular steps and method, by which the Holy Spirit,
sensibly to them, wrought those great essentials of
Christianity in their hearts. There is no footstep in toe
Scripture of any such way of the apostles, or primitive
ministers and Christians, requiring any such relation, in
order to their receiving and treating others as their christian
brethren ; or of their first examining them concerning the
particular method and order of their experiences. They
required of them a profession of the things wrought ; but
no account of the manner of working was required of
them. Nor is there the least shadow in the Scripture of
any such custom in the church of God, from Adam to the
death of the apostle John.
I am far from saying, that it is not requisite that persons
should give any sort of account of their experiences to
their brethren. For persons to profess those things wherein
the essence of Christianity lies, is the same thing as to
profess that they experience those things. Thus for persons
solemnly to profess, that, in a sense and full conviction of
their own utter sinfulness, misery, and impotence, and
totally undone state as in themselves — their just desert of
God's utter rejection and eternal wrath, without mercy,
and the utter insufficiency of their own righteousness, or
any thing in them, to satisfy divine justice, or recommend
them to God's favour — they do only and entirely depend
on the Lord Jesus Christ, and his satisfaction and right
eousness ; it is the same thing as to profess, toat they ex
perience those particulars. When any profess, that they do
with all their hearts believe the truth of the gospel of
Christ ; and that, in a full conviction and sense of his
sufficiency and perfect excellency as a Saviour, as exhibit
ed in the gospel, they do with their whole souls cleave to
him, and acquiesce in him, as the refuge and rest of their
souls, and the fountain of their comfort ; that they repent
of toeir sins, and utterly renounce all sin, and give up
themselves wholly to Christ, willingly subjecting them
selves to him as their King ; that they give him their hearts
and their whole man ; and are willing and resolved to have
God for toeir whole and everlasting portion ; what is it
but saying, that they experience those things ? Again, if
any profess, in a dependence on God's promises of a future
eternal enjoyment of him in heaven, to renounce all the
enjoyments of this vain world, selling all for this 'great
treasure and future inheritance, and to comply with every
command of God, even toe most difficult and self-denying,
and devote toeir whole lives to God's service ; what is it
but a declaration of so much experience? Once more,
when any profess, that, in toe forgiveness of those who
have injured them, and a general benevolence to mankind,
their hearts are united to the people of Jesus Christ as their
people, cleave to them and love them as their brethren,
and worship and serve God, and follow Christ, in union
and fellowship with them, being willing and resolved to
perform all incumbent duties, as members of the same
family of God and mystical body of Christ; I say, for
persons solemnly to profess such things as these, as in the
presence of God, is the same thing, as to profess that they
are conscious to, or do experience, such things in their
hearts.

324

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part. III.

Nor do I suppose, that persons giving an account of
their experience of particular exercises of grace, with the
times and circumstances, gives no advantage to others in
forming a judgment of their state ; or that persons may
not fitly be inquired of concerning these, especially in
cases of great importance, where ail possible satisfaction
is to be desired and sought after, as in the case of ordina
tion or approbation of a minister. It may give advantage
in forming a judgment, in several respects ; and among
others in this, that hereby we may be better satisfied, that
the professor speaks honestly and understandingly, in
what he professes ; and that he does not make toe pro
fession in mere formality. In order to a profession of
Christianity being accepted to any purpose, there ought to
be good reason, from the circumstances of the profession,
to think, that the professor does not make such a profes
sion out of a mere customary compliance with a prescribed
form, using words without any distinct meaning, or in a
-very lax and ambiguous manner, as confessions of faith
are often subscribed ; but toat toe professor understand
ingly and honestly signifies what he is conscious of in his
own heart ; otherwise his profession can be of no signifi
cance, and no more to be regarded than toe sound of
things without life. But indeed (whatever advantage an
account of particular exercises may give in judging of this)
it must be owned, that the professor having been pre
viously thoroughly instructed by his teachers, and giving
¦good proof of his sufficient knowledge, together with a
practice agreeable to his profession, is the best evidence of
this. Nor do I suppose, but that, if a person — who is inquired
-of about particular passages, times, and circumstances of
his christian experience — seems to be able to give a dis
tinct account of the manner of his first conversion, in such
a method as has been frequently observable in true con
version, so toat things seem sensibly and distinctly to
follow one another in the order of time, according to the
order of nature : it is an illustrating circumstance which,
among other things, adds lustre to the evidence he gives
his brethren of the truth of his experiences.
But what I speak of as unscriptural, is insisting on a
particular account of the distinct method and steps, wherein
toe Spirit of God did sensibly proceed, in first bringing
the soul into a state of salvation, as a thing requisite in
order to receiving a professor into full charity as a real
Christian ; so as, for the want of such relation to disregard
other things, in the evidence which persons give to their
neighbours of their Christianity, that are vastly more im
portant and essential.
Secondly, That we may rightly understand how christian
practice is the greatest evidence that others can have of
the sincerity of a professing Christian, it is needful that
what was said before, showing what christian practice is,
should be borne in mind ; and that it should be considered
how far this may be visible to others. Merely that a pro
fessor of Christianity is, what is commonly called, an
honest, moral man, (i. t. having no special transgression
or iniquity that might bring a blot on his character/) is no
great evidence of the sincerity of his profession. This is
not making his light shine before men. This is not that
work and labour of love showed towards Christ's name,
which gave the apostle such persuasion of the sincerity of
the professing Hebrews, (Heb. vi. 9, 10.) We may see
nothing in a man, but that he may be a good man ; there
may appear nothing in his life and conversation inconsist
ent with his being godly, and yet neither any great posi
tive evidence that he is so. But there may be great
positive appearances of holiness in men's visible behaviour ;
their life devoted to the service of God. They may ap
pear to follow the example of Jesus Christ, and come up
in a great measure to those excellent rules in the 5th, 6th,
and 7th chapters of Matthew, and 12th of Romans, and
many other parts of the New Testament. There may be
a great appearance of their being universal in their obedi
ence to Christ's commands and the rules of the gospel ;
in the performance of the duties of the first table, mani
festing the fear and love of God ; and also universal in
fulfilling rules of love to men, love to saints, and love to
enemies ; rules of meekness and forgiveness, rules of
mercy and charity, and looking not only at our own things,

but also at the things of others ; rules of doing good to
men's souls and bodies, to particular persons and to the
public ; rules of temperance and mortification, and of an
humble conversation ; rules of bridling the tongue, and
improving it to glorify God and bless men, showing that
in their tongues is the'law of kindness. They may appear
to walk as Christians, in all places, and at all seasons ; in
the house of God, and in toeir families, among their
neighbours, on Sabbath-days, and every day, in business
and in conversation, towards friends and enemies, towards
superiors, inferiors, and equals. Persons in their visible
walk may appear to be very earnestly engaged m the
service of God and mankind, much to labour and lay out
themselves in this work of a Christian, and to be very
constant and stedfast in it, under all circumstances and
temptations. There may be great manifestations of a spirit
to deny themselves, and suffer for God and Christ, the
interest of religion, and the benefit of their brethren. There
may be great appearances in a man's walk, of a dispo-
sition to forsake anv thing, rather than to forsake Christ,
and to make every thing give place to his honour. There
may be great manifestations in a man's behaviour of such
religion as this being his element, and of his placing the
delight and happiness of his life in it ; and his conversation
may be such, as to carry with him a sweet odour of chris
tian graces and heavenly dispositions, wherever he goes.
And when it is thus in the professors of Christianity, here
is an evidence to others of their sincerity in their profes
sion, to which all other manifestations are not worthy to
be compared.
There is doubtless a great variety in the degrees of evi
dence that professors exhibit of their sincerity, in their
life and practice ; as there is a variety in the fairness and
clearness of accounts persons give of the manner and
method of their experiences : but undoubtedly such a
manifestation as has been described, of a christian spirit
in practice, is vastly beyond the fairest and brightest story
of particular steps and passages of experience, that ever
was told. And m general, a manifestation of the sincerity
of a christian profession in practice, is far better than a
relation of experiences. — But yet,
Thirdly, It must be noted, agreeable to what was
formerly observed, that no external appearances whatso
ever, that are visible to the world, are infallible evidences
of grace. The manifestations toat have been mentioned,
are the best that mankind can have ; and they are such as
oblige Christians entirely to embrace professors as saints,
to love and rejoice in them as the children of God ; and
they are sufficient to give as great satisfaction concerning
them as ever is needful to guide them in their conduct, or
for any purpose that needs to be answered in this world.
But nothing that appears to them in their neighbour, can
be sufficient to beget an absolute certainty concerning the
state of his soul. They see not his heart, nor can they see
all his external behaviour ; for much of it is in secret, and
hid from the eye of the world : and it is impossible cer
tainly to determine, how far a man may go in many
external appearances and imitations of grace, from other
principles. Though undoubtedly, if others could see so
much of what belongs to men's practice, as their own
consciences may know of it, it might be an infallible evi
dence of their state, as will appear from what follows.

SECT. XIV.
Christian practice is a distinguishing and sure evidence of
grace to persons' own consciences.
This is very plain in 1 John ii. 3. "Hereby we do
know that we know him, if we keep his commandments." .
And the testimony of our consciences, with respect to our
good deeds, is spoken of as that which may give us as
surance of our own godliness ; 1 John iii. 18, 19. "My
little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue,
but in deed (in the original it is _prn, in work) and in
truth. And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and
shall assure our hearts before him." And the apostle Paul,
(Heb. vi.) speaks of the work and labour of love of the
christian Hebrews, as that which both gave him a per-

Sect. XIV.

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEF SIGN TO OURSELVES.

325

suasion that they had something above the highest common
illuminations, and also as that evidence which tended to
give them the highest assurance of hope concerning them
selves ; ver. 9, &c. "But, beloved, we are persuaded
better things of you, and things that accompany salvation,
though we thus speak. For God is not unrighteous, to
forget your work and labour of love, which ye have showed
towards his name, in that ye have ministered to the saints,
and do minister. And we desire that every one of you
do show toe same diligence, to the full assurance of hope
unto the end." So the apostle directs the Galatians to
examine their behaviour or practice, that they might have
rejoicing in themselves, in their own happy state ; Gal.
vi. 4. "Let every man prove his own work, so shall he
have rejoicing in himself, and not in another." And the
psalmist says, Psal. cxix. 6. "Then shall I not be ashamed,
when I have respect unto all thy commandments ; " i. e.
then shall I be bold, and assured, and stedfast in my hope.
And in that of our Saviour, Matt. vii. 19, 20. "Every
tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn down and
cast into toe fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know
them." Though Christ gives this, first, as a rule by which
we should judge of others, yet in the words that next
follow, he plainly shows, that he intends it also as a rule
by which we should judge ourselves ; " Not every one
that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the king
dom of heaven : but he that doth the will of my Father
which is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day,
Lord, Lord, &c.  And then will I profess unto them,
I never knew you : depart from me, ye that work iniquity.
Therefore, whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and
doth them, I will liken him unto a wise man which built
his house upon a rock.  And every one toat heareth
these sayings of mine, and doth them not, shall be likened
unto a foolish man which built his house upon toe sand."
I shall have occasion to mention other texts that show the
same thing, hereafter.
But for the greater clearness in this matter, I would,
first, show how christian practice, doing good works, or
keeping Christ's commandments, is to be taken, when the
Scripture represents it as a sure sign to our own con
sciences, that we are real Christians. And, secondly, will
prove, that this is toe chief of all evidences that men can
have of their own sincere godliness.
First, I would show how christian practice, or keeping
Christ's commandments, is to be taken, when the Scrip
ture represents it as a sure evidence to our own con
sciences, that we are sincere Christians.
And here I would observe, that we cannot reasonably
suppose, when the Scripture in this case speaks of good
works, good fruit, and keeping Christ's commandments,
that it has respect merely to what is external, or the
motion and action of the body, without including respect
to any aim or intention of the agent, or any act of his
understanding or will. For consider men's actions so,
and they are no more good works or acts of obedience,
than the regular motions of a clock ; nor are they con
sidered as anv human actions at all. The actions of the
body, taken thus, are neither acts of obedience, nor dis
obedience ; any more than the motions of toe body in a
convulsion. But the obedience and fruit that is spoken
of, is the obedience and fruit of the man ; and therefore
not only the acts of the body, but the obedience of the
soul, consisting in toe acts and practice of the soul. Not
that I suppose, that when the Scripture speaks, in this
case, of gracious works, fruit, and practice, that in these
expressions is included all inward piety and holiness of
heart, both principle and exercise, both spirit and practice :
because then, in these things being given as signs of a
gracious principle in the heart, the same thing would be
given as a sign of itself, and there would be no distinction
between root and fruit. But only the gracious exercise
and holy act of the soul is meant, and given as the sign of
the holy principle, and good estate. Neither is every kind
of inward exercise of grace meant ; but the practicol
exercise, toat exercise of the soul, and exertion of inward
holiness, which there is in an obediential act ; or that
exertion of the mind, and act of grace, which issues and
* Scripture-doctrine of Salvation, Sermon I. p. II.

terminates in what they call the imperate acts of the will ;
in which something is directed and commanded by the
soul to be done, and brought to pass in practice.
Here, for a clearer understanding, I would observe, that
there are two kinds of exercises of grace. 1. There are
what some call immanent acts ; that is, those exercises of
grace that remain within the soul, that begin and are ter
minated there, without any immediate relation to any
thing to be done outwardly, or to be brought to pass in
practice. Such are the exercises of grace, which the saints
often have in contemplation ; when the exercise in the
heart does not directly proceed to, or terminate in, any
thing beyond the thoughts of the mind : however they
may tend to practice (as all exercises of grace do) more
remotely. 2. There are acts of grace, that are more
strictly called practical, or effective exercises ; because
they immediately respect something to be done. They are
the exertions of grace in toe commanding acts of the will,
directing the outward actions. As when a saint gives a
cup of cold water to a disciple, in and from the exercise
of the grace of charity ; or voluntarily endures persecu
tion, in the way of his duty, immediately from the exer
cise of a supreme love to Christ. Here is the exertion of
grace producing its effect in outward actions. These
exercises of grace are practical and productive of good
works, not only because they are of a productive nature,
(for so are all exercises of true grace,) but they are the
producing acts. This is properly the exercise of grace in
the act of the will ; and this is properly the practice of the
soul. And the soul is the immediate actor of no other
practice but this : the motions of the body follow from
the laws of union between the soul and body, which God,
and not the soul, has fixed, and does maintain. The act
of the soul, and the exercise of grace, exerted in the per
formance of a good work, is the good work itself, so far as
the soul is concerned in it, or so far as it is the soul's good
work. The determinations of the will, are indeed our very
actions, so far as they are properly ours, as Dr. Doddridge
observes.* In this practice of the soul, is included the aim
and intention of the soul which is the agent. For not only
should we not look on the motions of a statue, doing justice
or distributing alms by clock-work, as any acts of obedi
ence to Christ in that statue ; but neither would any body
call the voluntary actions of a man, externally and materially
agreeable to a command of Christ, by the name of obe
dience to Christ, if he had never heard of Christ, or any
of his commands, or had no thought of his commands in
what he did. — If the acts of obedience and good fruit-
spoken of, be looked upon, not as mere motions of the
body, but as acts of the soul ; toe whole exercise of the
spirit of the mind, in the action, must be taken in, with
the end acted for, and the respect the soul then has to
God, &c. otherwise they are no acts of denial of ourselves,
or obedience to God, or service done to him, but some
thing else. Such effective exercises of grace as these,
many of toe martyrs have experienced in a high degree.
And all true saints live a life ot such acts of grace as these,
as they all live a life of gracious works, of which these
operative exertions of grace are the life and soul. And
this is the obedience and fruit that God mainly looks at,
as he looks at the soul, more than the body ; as much as
toe soul, in the constitution of human nature, is the
superior part. As God looks at the obedience and prac
tice of the man, he looks at the practice of the soul ; for
the soul is the man in God's sight, " For the Lord seeth
not as man seeth, for he looketh on the heart."
And thus it is, that obedience, good works, and good
fruit, are to be taken, when given in Scripture as a sure
evidence to our own consciences of a true principle of
grace ; even as including the obedience and practice of
the soul, as preceding and governing the actions of the
body. When practice is given in Scripture as the main
evidence of our true Christianity to others, then is meant
that in our practice which is visible to them, even our
outward actions : but when practice is given as a sure
evidence of our real Christianity to our own consciences,
then is meant that in our practice which is visible to our
which is not only the motion of our

own consciences ;

326

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

bodies, but the exertion and exercise of the soul, which
directs and commands that motion ; which is more
directly and immediately under toe view of our own con
sciences, than the act of the body. And that this is the
intent of Scripture, not only does the nature and reason of
the thing show, but it is plain by the Scripture itself.
Thus it is evident toat when Christ at the conclusion of
his sermon on the mount, speaks of doing or practising
those sayings of his, as the grand sign of professors being
true disciples ; without which he likens them to a man
that built his house upon toe sand ; and with, which, to a
man toat built his house upon a rock ; he has respect, not
only to the outward behaviour, but to toe inward exercise
of the mind in that behaviour. This is evident by observ
ing what those preceding sayings of his are ; " Blessed
are toe poor in spirit; blessed are they that mourn;
blessed are the meek ; blessed are they that do hunger
and thirst after righteousness ; blessed are the merciful ;
blessed are the pure in heart ; whosoever is angry with his
brother without a cause, &c. ; whosoever looketh on a
woman to lust after her, &c. ; love your enemies ; take no
thought for your life," and others of the like nature,
which imply inward exercises : and when Christ says,
John xiv. 21. " He that hath my commandments, and
keepeth them, he it is that loveth me ;" he has evidently
a special respect to that command several times repeated
in the same discourse, (which he calls, by way of emi
nence, his commandment,) that they should love one an
other, as he had loved them. (See chap. xiii. 34, 35. and
chap. xv. 10, 12, 13, 14.) But this command respects
chiefly an exercise of the mind or heart, though exerted in
practice. So when the apostle John says, 1 John ii. 3.
" Hereby we do know that we know him, if we keep his
commandments ; he has plainly a principal respect to the
same command, as appears by what follows, ver. 7 — 1 1 .
and 2d Epist. ver. 5, 6. : and when we are told in Scrip
ture that men shall at the last day be judged according to
their works, and all shall receive according to the things
done in the body ; it is not to be understood only of out
ward acts ; for if so, why is God so often spoken of as
searching toe hearts and trying the reins, that he may
render to every one according to his works? as Rev. ii. 23.
" And all the churches shall know that I am he which
searcheth the reins and hearts : and I will give unto every
one according to his works." Jer. xvii. 10. " I the
Lord search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every
man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of
his doings." But if by his ways, and the fruit of his doings,
is meant only the actions of his body, what need of search
ing the heart and reins, in order to know them ? Hezekiah
in his sickness pleads his practice as an evidence of his
title to God's favour, as including not only his outward
actions, but what was in his heart, Isa. xxxviii. 3. ' Re
member now, O Lord, I beseech thee, how I have walked
before thee in truth, and with a perfect heart."
Though in this great evidence of sincerity that the Scrip
ture gives us, what is inward is of greatest importance ;
yet what is outward is included and intended, as connected
with the practical exertion of grace in the will, directing
and commanding the actions of the body. And hereby are
effectually cut off all pretensions that any man can have
to evidences of godliness, who externally lives wickedly ;
because the great evidence lies in that inward exercise and
practice of the soul, which consists in the act ofthe will,
commanding outward acts. But it is known, that these
commanding acts of the will are not one way, and the ac
tions of the bodily organs another : for the unalterable law
of nature is, that they should be united, as long as soul
and body are united, and the organs are not so destroyed
* " Look upon John. Christ's beloved disciple and bosom companion ; he
had received the anointing to know him that is true, and he knew that he
knew him, 1 John ii. 3. But how did he know that? He might be de
ceived ; (as it is strange to see what a melancholy fancy will do, and the
effects of it ; as honest men are reputed to have weak brains, and never
saw the depths of the secrets of God:) what is his fast proof? Because we
keep his commandments.*' Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 131.
" A man may know his present union to the Lord Jesus, by a work;
1 John ii 4. He that saith, I know him, and keeps not his commandments.
is a liar.— Yes, that Is true negatively ; but may a man. ought n man, to
see or know his union positively by this ? Ans. ver. 5. Many said they did
know and love the Lord, but he that keeps his words. — O they are sweet .'
It is heaven to cleave to htm in every command; it is death to depart from
any command ; hereby know we that we are in him. If it were possible to

as to be incapable of those motions that the soul commands.
Thus it would be ridiculous for a man to plead, that the
commanding act of his will was to go to the public wor
ship, while his feet carry him to a tavern or brothel-house ;
or that the commanding act of his will was to give such a
piece of money he had in his hand to a poor beggar, while
his hand at the same instant kept it back, and held it fast.
Secondly, I proceed to show, that christian practice, taken
in the sense explained, is the chief of all the evidences of
a saving sincerity in religion, to the consciences of the pro
fessors of it ; much to be prefened to the method of the
first convictions, enlightenings, and comforts in conversion ;
or any immanent discoveries or exercises of grace whatso
ever, that begin and end in contemplation.* The evidence
of this appears by the following arguments.
Argument I. Reason plainly shows, that those things
which put it to the proof, what men will actually cleave to
in their practice, when left to follow their own choice and
inclinations, are the proper trial what they do really prefer
in their hearts. Sincerity in religion, as observed already,
consists in setting God highest in the heart, in choosing him
before other things, in having a heart to sell all for Christ,
&c— But a man's actions are the proper trial what a man's
heart prefers. As for instance, when God and other things
come to stand in competition, God is as it were set before
a man on one hand, and his worldly interest or pleasure on
the other; his behaviour in such case, in actually cleaving
to the one and forsaking the other, is the proper trial which
he prefers. Sincerity consists in forsaking all for Christ in
heart ; but to forsake all for Christ in heart, is the very
same thing as to have a heart to forsake all for Christ.
The proper trial whether a man has a heart to forsake all
for Christ, is his being actually put to it, Christ and other
things coming in competition, that he must practically
cleave to one and forsake the other. To forsake all for
Christ in heart, is the same thing as to have a heart to for
sake all for Christ when called to it : but the highest proof
to ourselves and others, that we have a heart to forsake all
for Christ when called to it, is actually doing it when or so
far as called to it. To follow Christ in heart, is to have a
heart to follow him. To deny ourselves in heart for Christ,
is the same thing as to have a heart to deny ourselves for
him in fact. The main and most proper proof of a man
having a heart to any thing, concerning which he is at
liberty to follow his own inclinations, is his doing it. When
a man is at liberty whether to speak or keep silence, the
most proper evidence of his having a heart to speak, is his
speaking. When a man is at liberty whether to walk or
sit still, the proper proof of his having a heart to walk, is
his walking. Godliness consists not in a heart to intend to
do the will of God, but in a heart to do it. The children
of Israel in the wilderness had the former, of whom we
read, Deut. v. 27 — 29. " Go thou near, and hear all that
the Lord our God shall say ; and speak thou unto us all
that the Lord our God shall speak unto thee, and we will
hear it, and do it. And the Lord heard the voice of your
words, when ye spake unto me ; and the Lord said unto
me, I have heard the voice of the words of this people,
which they have spoken unto thee : they have well said
all that they have spoken. O that there were such an
heart in them, that they would fear me, and keep all ray
commandments always, that it might be well with them,
and with their children for ever!" The people manifested
that they had a heart to intend to keep God's command
ments, and to be very forward in those intentions; but
God manifests, that this was far from being the thing he
desired, wherein true godliness consists, even a heart ac
tually to keep them.
It is therefore exceedingly absurd, and even ridiculous,
ask of angels, how they know they are not devils, they would answer, the
Lord's will is ours." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 134.
" If the question be, Whom doth the Lord Jesus love ? you need not eo to
heaven for it. the word is nigh thee, Those that love Christ. Who are those ?
Those that keep his commandments." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 138.'
" Will you have Christ to sit in heaven, and not look that he subdue your '
lusts by the work of his grace, and so sway your hearts ? You despise his
kingdom then. Do you seek for pardon in the blood of Christ, and never
look for the virtue and end of that blood to wash you and make you without
spot, &c. ? You despise his priesthood and blood then. Do you look for
Christ to do work for you, and you not do Christ's work, and bring forth
fruit to him ? You despise his honour then, John xv. 8. If I were to dis
cover a hypocrite, or a false heart, this I would say, It is he that shall set
up Christ, but loathe his work." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 140.

Sect. XIV.

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEF SlGN TO OURSELVES.

327

for any to pretend that they have a good heart, while they
live a wicked life, or do not bring forth the fruit. of uni
versal holiness in their practice. For it is proved in fact,
that such men do not love God above all. It is foolish to
dispute against plain fact and experience. Men that live
in ways of sin, and yet flatter themselves that they shallgo
to heaven, or expect to be received hereafter as holy per
sons, without a holy life and practice, act as though they
expected to make a fool of their Judge. Wbich is implied
in what the apostle says, Gal. vi. 7. " Be not deceived;
God is not mocked : for whatsoever a man soweth, that
shall he also reap." As much as to say, " Do not deceive
yourselves with an expectation of reaping life everlasting
hereafter, if you sow not to the Spirit here; it is in vain
to think that God will be made a fool of by you, that he
will be imposed upon with shadows instead of substance,
aud with vain pretences, instead of that good fruit which
he expects ; when the contrary to what you pretend ap
pears plainly in your life, before his face." In this man
ner the word mock is sometimes used in Scripture. Thus
Delilah says to Samson, Behold, thou hast mocked me,
and told me lies, Judges xvi. 10, 13. i. e. " Thou hast
baffled me, intending to make a fool of me, as if I might
be easily turned off with any vain pretence, instead of the
truth." So it is said that Lot, when he told his sons-in-
law that God would destroy that place, he seemed as one
that mocked to his sons-in-law, Gen. xix. 14. i. e. he seemed
as one that would make a game of them, as though they
were credulous fools. But the great Judge, whose eyes
are as a flame of fire, will not be mocked or baffled with
any pretences, without a holy life. If in his name men
have prophesied and wrought miracles, and have had faith
so that they could remove mountains, and cast out devils,
and however high their religious affections have been,
however great resemblances they have had of grace, and
though their hiding-place has been so dark and deep, that
no human skill nor search could find them out ; yet if
they are workers or practisers of iniquity, they cannot hide
their hypocrisy from their Judge ; Job xxxiv. 22. " There
is no darkness, nor shadow of death, where the workers of
iniquity may hide themselves." Would a wise prince
suffer himself to be mocked by a subject, who should pre
tend that he was loyal, and should tell his prince that he
had an entire affection for him, and that at such and such
a time he had experience of it, and felt his affections
strongly working towards him, and should come expecting
to be accepted and rewarded by his prince, as one of his
best friends on that account, though he lived in rebellion
against him, following some pretender to his crown, and
from time to time stirring up sedition against him ? Or,
would a master suffer himself to be shammed and gulled
by a servant, that should pretend to great experiences of
love and honour towards him in his heart, and a great sense
of his worthiness and kindness, when at the same time he
refused to obey and serve him ?
Argument II. As reason shows, that those things which
occur in the course of life, which put it to the proof
whether men will prefer God to other things in practice,
are the proper trial of the sincerity of toeir hearts ; so the
same are represented as the proper trial of the sincerity of
professors, in the Scripture. There we find that such
things are called by that very name, trials or temptations,
both words of the same signification.  The things that
put it to the proof, whether men will prefer God to other
things in practice, are the difficulties of religion, or those
things which occur that make the practice of duty difficult,
and cross to other principles besides the love of God ; be
cause in them, God and other things are both set before
men together, for their actual and practical choice ; and it
comes to this, that we cannot hold to both, but one or the
other must be forsaken. And these things are all over the
Scripture called by the name of trials or proofs.* And
they are called by this name, because hereby professors
are tried and proved of what sort they be, whether they be
really what they profess and appear to be ; and because in
them the reality of the supreme love of God is brought to
* 2 Cor. viii 2. Heb. xi.36. 1 Pet. i. 7. Chap. iv. 12. Gen. xxii. 1. Deut. viii.
2, 16. Chap, xiii 3. Exod. xv. 35. Chap. xvi. 4. Judges ii. 22. Chap. iii. 1,4.
Psal. lxvi. 10, 11 Dan. xii. 10. Rev. iii. 10. Job xxiii. 10, Zech. xiii. 2. James
i. 12. Rev. ii. 10. Luke viii. 13. Acts xx. 19. James i. 2, 3. 1 Pet i. 5.
t "lira persuaded, as Calvin is, that all the several trials of men, are to

the test of experiment and fact ; they are the proper proofs,
in which it is truly determined by experience, whether men
have a thorough disposition of heart to cleave to God or
no ; Deut. viii. 2. " And thou shah remember all the way
which the Lord God led thee these forty years in the wil
derness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, whether thou
wouldst keep his commandments, or no." Judg. ii. 21, 22.
" I also will not henceforth drive out any from before
them, of the nations which Joshua left when he died : that
through them I may prove Israel, whether they will keep
the way of the Lord. ' So chap. iii. 1, 4. and Exod. xvi.
4. And the Scripture, when it calls these difficulties of
religion by the name of temptations or trials, explains it
self to mean thereby, the trial or experiment of their faith,
James i. 2, 3. " My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall
into divers temptations ; knowing this, that the trying of
your faith worketh patience." 1 Pet. i. 6, 7. " Now for a
season — ye are in heaviness, through manifold temptations;
that the trial of your faith being much more precious than
of gold," &c. So the apostle Paul speaks of that expensive
duty of parting with our substance to the poor, as the proof
of the sincerity of the love of Christians, 2 Cor. viii. 8.
And the difficulties of religion are often represented in
Scripture as being the trial of professors, in the same
manner that the furnace is the proper trial of gold and
silver; Psal. lxvi. 10, 11. " Thou, O God, hast proved
us: thou hast tried us, as silver is tried : thou broughtest
us into the net, thou laidest affliction upon our loins."
Zech. xii. 9. " And I will bring the third part of them
through the fire ; and I will refine them as silver is re
fined : and I will try them as gold is tried." That which
has the colour and appearance of gold, is put into the fur
nace to try whether it be what it seems to be, real gold or
no. So the difficulties of religion are called trials, because
they try those that have the profession and appearance of
saints, whether they are what they appear to be, real saints.
If we put true gold into the furnace, we shall find its
great value and preciousness ; so the truth and inestimable
value of the virtues of a true Christian appear, when under
these trials ; 1 Pet. i. 7. " That the trial of your faith being
much more precious than of gold that perisheth, might be
found unto praise, and honour, and glory." True and pure
gold will come out of the furnace in full weight : so true
saints when tried come forth as gold, Job xxiii. 10. Christ
distinguishes true grace from counterfeit by this, that it is
gold tried in the fire, Rev. iii. 17, 18. So that it is evident
that these things are called trials in Scripture, principally
as they try or prove the sincerity of professors. And from
what has been now observed, it is evident that they are the
most proper trial or proof of their sincerity ; inasmuch as
the very meaning of the word trial, as it is ordinarily used
in Scripture, is the difficulty occurring in the way of a
professor's duty, as an experiment of his sincerity. If trial
of sincerity he the proper name of these difficulties of re
ligion, then doubtless these difficulties of religion are pro
perly and eminently the trial of sincerity ; for they are
doubtless eminently what they are called by the Holy
Ghost : God gives things their name from that which is
eminently their nature. And if it be so, that these things
are the proper and eminent trial, proof, or experiment of
the sincerity of professors ; then certainly the result of the
trial or experiment (that is, persons' behaviour or practice
under such trials) is the proper and eminent evidence of
their sincerity. For they are called trials or proofs only
with regard to the result, and because the effect is eminent
ly the proof, or evidence. And this is the most proper
proof and evidence to the conscience of those that are the
subjects of these trials. For when God is said by these
things to try men, and prove them, to see what is in their
hearts, and whether they will keep his commandments or no :
we are not to understand, that it is for his own informa
tion, or that he may obtain evidence himself of their sin
cerity ; (for he needs no trials for his information ;) but
chiefly for their conviction, and to exhibit evidence to their
consciences.f Thus when God is said to prove Israel by
the difficulties they met with in the wilderness, and by the
show them to themselves, and to the world, that they be but counterfeits ;
and to make saints known to themselves the better.— Rom. v. 5. Tribula
tion works trial, and that hope. Prov. xvii. 3. If you will know whether it
will hold weight, the trial will tell you.— Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 191.

328

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

difficulties they met with from their enemies in Canaan, to
know what was in their hearts, whether they would keep
his commandments, or no ; it must be understood, that it
was to discover them to themselves, that they might know
what was in their own hearts. So when God tempted or
tried Abraham with that difficult command of offering up
his son, it was not for his satisfaction, whether he feared
God or no, but for Abraham's own greater satisfaction and
comfort, and the more clear manifestation of the favour of
God to him. When Abraham had proved faithful under
this trial, God says to him, Now 1 know that thou fearest
God, seeing that thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only
son from me. Which plainly implies, that in this practical
exercise of Abraham's grace under this trial, was a clearer
evidence of the truth of his grace, than ever was before ;
and the greatest evidence to Abraham's conscience ; be
cause God himself gives it to Abraham as such, for his
comfort and rejoicing; and speaks of it to him, as what
might be the greatest evidence to his conscience of his being
upright in the sight of his Judge. Which proves what I
say, that holy practice under trials, is the highest evidence
of the sincerity of professors to their own consciences. And
we find that Christ frequently took the same method to
convince the consciences of those that pretended friendship
to him, and to show them what they were. This was the
method he took with toe rich young man, Matt. xix. 1 6, &c.
He seemed to show a great respect to Christ ; he came
kneeling to him, and called him good master, and made a
great profession of obedience to the commandments ; but
Christ tried him by bidding him go and sell all that he had,
and give to the poor, and come and take up his cross, and
follow him ; telling him, that then he should have treasure
in heaven. So he tried another, Matt. viii. 20. He made
a great profession of respect to Christ : says he, Lord, I
will follow thee whithersoever thou goest. Christ immedi
ately puts his friendship to the proof, by telling him that
the foxes had holes, and the birds of the air had nests, but
that the Son of man had not where to lay his head. And
thus Christ is wont still to try professed disciples in general,
in the course of his providence. So the seed sown in every
kind of ground, stony ground, thorny ground, and good
ground, which in all appears alike, when it first springs
up ; yet is tried, and the difference is made to appear by
the burning heat of the sun.
Seeing therefore that these are the things which God
employs to try us, it is undoubtedly the surest way, in
order to pass a right judgment, to try ourselves by the
same things. These trials are not for his information, but
for ours ; therefore we ought to receive our information
from thence. The surest way to know our gold, is to ex
amine it in God's furnace, where he tries it for that very
end, that we may see what it is. If we have a mind to
know whether a building stands strong or no, we must
look upon it when the wind blows. If we would know
whether that which appears in the form of wheat, has the
real substance of wheat, or be only chaff, we must ob
serve it when it is winnowed. If we would know whe
ther a staff be strong, or a rotten broken reed, we must
observe it when it is leaned on, when weight is borne
upon it. If we would weigh ourselves justlv, it must be
in God's appointed scales* These trials in the course of
fl Dr. Sibbs, in his Bruised Reed, says, " When Christ's will cometh in
competition with any worldly loss or gain, yet if then, in that particular
case, the heart will stoop to Christ, it is a true sign. For the truest trial of
the power of grace, is in such particular cases as touch us nearest ; for there
our corruption mak eth the greatest head. When Christ came home to the
young man in the gospel, he lost a disciple of him."
Mr. Flavel speaks of a holy practice under trials, as the greatest evidence
of grace. " No man (says he) can say what he is, whether his grace be true
or false, until they be tried, and examined by those things, which are to
them as fire is to gold." Touchstone of Sincerity, chap. iv. sect. 1. Again,
speaking of great <_ fficulties and sufferings in the way of duty, wherein a
Eerson must actually part with what is dearest of a worldly nature, or with
is duty ; he says, " That such sufferings as these will discover the false
ness and rottenness of men's hearts, cannot be doubted; if you consider,
that this is the fire designed by God for this very use and purpose, to se
parate the gold from the dross. So you will find it, 1 Pet. iv. 12. — ' Be
loved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial that is to try you,' i. e.
The very design and aim of Providence in permitting and ordering them, is
to try you. Upon this account you find the hour of persecution (in a suit
able notion) called the hour of temptation or probation. Rev. iii. 10. For
then, professors are sifted to the very bran, searched to the very bottom
principles. This is ' the day that burns as an oven ; all that do wickedly
shall be as stubble,' Mai. iv. i. For in that day the predominant interest
must appear and be discovered, it can be concealed no longer. ' No man
can serve two masters,' saith Christ, Luke xvi. 13. A man may serve
many masters, if they all command the same thing, or things subordinate
to each other : but he cannot serve two masters, if their commands clash

our practice, are as it were the balances in which our
hearts are weighed, or in which Christ and the world, or
Christ and his competitors, as to the esteem and regard
they have in our hearts, are weighed, or are put into oppo-
sites scales, by which there is opportunity to see which
preponderates. When a man is brought to the dividing of
paths, the one of which leads to Christ, and the other to
the objects of his lusts, to see which way he will go ;
when set as it were between Christ and the world, Christ
on the right hand, and the world on the left, so that if he
goes to one he must leave the other : this is just the same
thing as laying Christ and the world in twb opposite
scales ; and his going to the one, and leaving the other, is
just the same thing, as the sinking of one scale, and rising
of the other. A man's practice, therefore, under the
trials of God's providence, is as much the proper experi
ment and evidence of the superior inclination of his heart,
as the motion of the balance, with different weights in oppo
site scales, is the proper experiment of the superior weight.
Argument III. Another argument, that holy practice, in
the sense which has been explained, is the highest kind of
evidence of the truth of grace to the consciences of Chris
tians, is, that in practice, grace in scripture style is said to
be made perfect, or to be finished. So the apostle James
says, Jam. li. 22. " Seest' thou how faith wrought with
his works, and by works was faith made perfect," or finish
ed ? So the love of God is said to be made perfect, or
finished, in keeping his commandments ; 1 John ii. 4, 5.
" He that saith, I know him, and keepeth not his com
mandments, is a liar; and the truth is not in him: but
whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love of God
perfected." The commandment of Christ which the
apostle has a special respect to, is that which respects
deeds of love to our brethren ; as appears by the follow
ing verses. Again, the love of God is said to be per
fected, in the same sense, chap. iv. 12. " If we love one
another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in
us." Here doubtless the apostle has still respect to loving
one another, in the same manner that he had explained in
the preceding chapter, speaking of loving one another as a
sign of the love of God, ver. 17, 18. "Whoso hath this
world's good, and shutteth up his bowels, &c. how dwell
eth the love of God in him ? My little children, let us not
love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed, (or in work,)
and in truth." By thus loving in work, the apostle says
the love of God is perfected in us. Grace is said to be
perfected or finished in holy practice, as therein it is
brought to its proper effect, and to that exercise which is
the end of the principle ; the tendency and design of grace
herein is reached, and its operation completed and crown
ed. The tree is not perfected in the seed being planted in
the ground ; in the first quickening of the seed, and in its
putting forth root and sprout ; nor is it perfected when it
comes up out ofthe ground; in bringing forth leaves;
nor yet in putting forth blossoms : but when it has
brought forth good ripe fruit, then it is perfected, therein
it reaches its end, the design is finished : all' that belongs
to the tree is completed and brought to its proper effect in
the fruit. So is grace in its practical exercises. Grace is
said to be made perfect or finished in its woik or fruit, in
the same manner as it is said of sin, Jam. i. 15. " When
and interfere with each other ; and such are the commands of Christ and
the flesh in a suffering hour :— thus the two interests come in full opposition.
And now have but patience and wait a little, and you will discern which is
predominant A dog follows two men, while they both walk one way, and
you know not which of the two is his master : stay but a little, until their
path parts, and then you shall quickly see who is his master : so it is in this
case." Ibid, chap viii. § 3. And in another chapter he says, " Great num
bers of persons are deceived and destroyed by trusting to seeming untried
grace. This was the miserable condition of the Laodicean professors;
they reckoned themselves rich, but were really poor : all is notgold that
glisters : their gold (as they accounted it) was never tried in the fire. If a
man's whole estate lay in some precious stone, suppose a rich diamond, how
is he concerned' to have it thoroughly tried, to see whether it will bear a
smartstroke with the hammer, or fly like a Bristol diamond !" Ioid. chap. x.
§ 3. Again, in the same place, " The promises of salvation are made over
to tried grace, and that only as will endure the trial."
" The Lord will try you. God hath his trying times ; and they were
never sent, hut to discover who were dross, who were gold. And the main
end of all God's trials, is to discoverthis truth that I now am pressing upon
you. Some have a thorough work ; and now the trial discovers the truth,
as in Abraham, Heb. xi. 17. Some have a superficial work, and they fall
in trial, as in Saul ; and it doth discover it was but an overly work. For
this is the question God makes. Is it thorough, or no ? Ay, saith the carnal
heart ; Yes. saith a gracious heart Hence it is strange to see what men
will do when a trial comes." Shepard's Parable, Part I. p. 219.
" There is an hour of temptation which tries men, which will discover
men indeed." Shepard's Parable, Part II. p. 60.

Sect. XIV.

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEF SIGN TO OURSELVES.

329

mst hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin when it
is finished, bringeth forth death." Here are three steps;
first, sin in its principle or habit, the being of lust in the
neart ; and nextly, here is its conceiving, consisting in the
immanent exercises of it in the mind ; and lastly, here is
the fruit that was conceived actually brought forth, in the
wicked work and practice. And this the apostle calls the
finishing or perfecting of sin : for the word in the original
is the same that is translated perfected in those foremen
tioned places.
Now certainly, if grace be in this manner made perfect
in its fruit, if these practical exercises of grace are those
wherein grace is brought to its proper effect and end, and
the exercises wherein whatsoever belongs to its design,
tendency, and operation, is completed and crowned ; then
these exercises must be the highest evidences of grace,
above all other exercises. Certainly the proper nature and
tendency, of every principle, must appear best and most
fully, in its most perfect exercises, or in those wherein its
nature is most completely exerted, and its tendency most
fully answered and crowned, in its proper effect and end.
If we would see the proper nature of any thing whatso
ever, and see it in its full distinction from other things, let
us look upon it in the finishing of it. The apostle James
says, by works is faith made perfect ; and introduces this
as an argument to prove that works are the chief evidence
of faith, whereby the sincerity of the professors of faith is
justified, Jam. ii. And the apostle John, after he had
once and again told us, that love was made perfect in
keeping Christ's commandments, observes, 1 John iv. 18.
" That perfect love casteth out fear ;" meaning (at least in
part) love made perfect in this sense ; agreeable to what
he had said in the foregoing chapter, " That by love in
deed, or work, we know that we are of the truth, and shall
assure our hearts," ver. 18, 19.
Argument IV. Another thing which makes it evident,
that holy practice is the principal evidence that we ought
to use in judging both of our own and others' sincerity, is,
that this evidence is above, all others insisted on in Scrip
ture. A common acquaintance with the Scripture, to
gether with a little attention and observation, will be suffi
cient to show to any one, that this is ten times more insisted
on as a note of true piety, throughout the Scripture, fiom
the beginning of Genesis to the end of Revelations, than
any thing else. And in the New Testament, where Christ
and his apostles do expressly, and of declared purpose, lay
down signs of true godliness, this is almost wholly insisted
on. It may be observed, that Christ and his apostles do
not only often say those things, in discoursing on the great
doctrines of religion, which do show what the nature of
true godliness must be, or from whence the nature and
signs of it may be inferred by just consequence — and often
occasionally mention many things which appertain to god
liness' — but they also often of set purpose give signs and
marks for the trial of professors, putting them upon trying
themselves by the signs they give, introducing what they
say with such like expressions as these ; " By this you
shall know that you know God : By this are manifest the
children of God, and the children of the devil : He that
hath this, builds on a good foundation ; he that hath it not,
builds on the sand : Hereby we shall assure our hearts :
He is the man that loveth Christ," &c. But I can find no
place, where either Christ or his apostles in this manner
give signs of godliness, (though the places are many) but
where christian practice is almost the only thing insisted
on. Indeed in many of these places, love to the brethren
is spoken of as a sign of godliness : and (as I have ob
served before) there is no one virtuous affection or dispo
sition so often expressly spoken of as a sign of true grace,
as our having love one to another : but then the Scriptures
explain themselves to intend chiefly this love as exercised
and expressed in practice, or in deeds of love. So does
the apostle John (who above all others insists on love to
the brethren as a sign of godliness) most expressly explain
himself, in that 1 John iii. 14, &c. " We know that we
have passed from death unto life, because we love the
brethren : he that loveth not his brother, abideth in death. —
Whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have
* " It is a sure rule, (says Dr. Preston,) that what the Scriptures bestow
much words^ on, we should have much thought on ; and what the Holy

need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him,
how dwelleth the love of God in him ? My little children,
let us love, not in word, neither in tongue, but in deed
(i. e. in deeds of love) and iratruth. And hereby we know
that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before
him." So that when the Scripture so much insists on our
loving one another, as a great sign of godliness, we are not
thereby to understand the immanent workings of affection
which men feel one to another, so much as the soul's
practising all the duties of the second table ofthe law ; all
which the New Testament tells us again and again, a true
love one to another comprehends ; Rom. xiii. 8, and 10.
Gal. v. 14. Matt. xxii. 39, 40. So that really, there is no
place in the New Testament, where the declared design is
to give signs of godliness, but that holy practice, or keep
ing Christ's commandments, is the mark insisted on.
Which is an invincible argument, that it is the chief of all
the evidences' of godliness : unless we suppose, that Christ
and his apostles did not know how to choose signs so well
as we could have chosen for them. But if we make the
word of Christ our rule, then undoubtedly those marks
which Christ and his apostles chiefly lay down, that we
might try ourselves by them, those same marks we ought
especially to receive, and chiefly to use, in the trial of our
selves.* And surely those things which Christ and his
apostles chiefly insisted on in the rules they gave, ministers
ought chiefly to insist on in the rules they give. To insist
much on those things on which the Scripture insists little,
and to insist very little on those things on which the
Scripture insists much, is a dangerous thing ; because it
is going out of God's way, and is to judge ourselves, and
guide others, in an unscriptural manner. God knew which
way of leading and guiding souls was safest and best for
them ; he insisted so much on some things, because he
knew it to be needful that they should be insisted on ; and
let other things more alone, as a wise God, because he
knew it was not best for us, so much to lay the weight of
the trial there. As the Sabbath was made for man, so the
Scriptures were made for man ; and they are by infinite
wisdom fitted for our use and benefit. We should there
fore make them our guide in all things, in our thoughts of
religion, and of ourselves. And for us to make that gi'eat
which the Scripture makes little, and that little which the
Scripture makes great, tends to give us a monstrous idea of
religion ; and (at least indirectly and gradually) to lead us
wholly away from the right rule, and from a right opinion
of ourselves, and to establish delusion and hypocrisy.
Argument V. Christian practice is plainly spoken of in
the word of God, as the main evidence of the truth of
grace, not only to others, but to men's own consciences.
It is only more spoken of and insisted on than other signs,
but in many places where it is spoken of, it is represented
as the chief of all evidences. This is plain in the manner
of expression from time to time. If God were now to
speak from heaven to resolve our doubts concerning signs
of godliness, and should give some particular sign, toat by
it all might know whether they were sincerely godly or not,
with such emphatical expressions as these, The man who
hath such a qualification or mark, that is the man who is a
true saint ; that is the very man; by this you may know ;
this is the thing by which it is manifest who are saints and
who are sinners ; such men as these arc saints indeed : should
not welook upon it as a thing beyond doubt, that this was
given as a special, and eminently distinguishing, note of
true godliness ? But this is the very case with respect to
the sign of grace I am speaking of; God has again and
again uttered himself in his word in this very manner, con
cerning christian practice, as John xiv. " He that hath
my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth
me." This Christ gives to the disciples, not so much to
guide them in judging others, but to apply to themselves
for their own comfort after his departure, as appears by
every word of the context. And by the way I would ob
serve, that not only the emphasis with which Christ utters
himself is remarkable, but also his so much insisting on,
and repeating the matter, as he does in the context ; ver.
15. " If ye love me, keep my commandments." Ver. 23.
" If a man love me, he will keep my words." And ver.
Ghost urgeth most, we should prize most." — Church's Carriage.

330

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS:

Part III.

24. " He that loveth me not, keepeth not my sayings."
And in the next chapter over and over ; ver. 2. " Every
branch in me that beareth not fruit, he taketh awav ; and
every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it." Ver. 8.
" Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit, so
shall ye be my disciples." Ver. 14. " Ye are my friends,
if ye do whatsoever I command you." We have this
mark laid down with the same emphasis again, John viii.
31. " If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples
indeed." And again, 1 John ii. 3. " Hereby we do know
that we know him, if we keep his commandments." And
ver. 5. " Whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love
of God perfected : hereby know we that we are in him."
And chap. iii. 18, 19. " Let us love in deed, and in truth :
hereby we know that we are of the truth." What is trans
lated hereby, would have been a little more emphatical, if
it had been rendered more literally from the original, by
this we do know.— And how evidently is holy practice
spoken of as the grand note of distinction between the
children of God and the children ofthe devil, in ver. 10.
of the same chapter ? " In this the children of God are
manifest, and the children of the devil." Speaking of a
holy and a wicked practice, as may be seen in all the con
text : as ver. 3. " Every man that hath this hope in him,
purifieth himself, even as he is pure." Ver. 6 — 10. " Who
soever abideth in him, sinneth not : whosoever sinneth,
hath not seen him, neither known him. Little children,
let no man deceive you : he that doth righteousness, is
righteous, even as he is righteous : he toat committeth sin
is of the devil. — Whosoever is born of God sinneth not. —
Whosoever doth not righteousness, is not of God." So we
have the like emphasis, 2 John 6. " This is love, that we
walk after his commandments :" that is, (as we must
understand it,) This is the proper evidence of love. So 1
John v. 3. " This is the love of God, that we keep his com
mandments." So the apostle James speaking of the pro
per evidences of true and pure religion, says, Jam. i. 27.
" Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father,
is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction,
and to keep himself unspotted from the world." We have
the like emphatical expressions used about the same thing
in the Old Testament : Job xxviii. 28. " And unto man he
said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to
depart from evil is understanding." Jer. xxii. 15, 16.
" Did not thy father eat and drink, and do judgment and
justice ? — He judged the cause of the poor and needy ;
was not this to know me? saith the Lord." Psal. xxxiv.
11, &c. " Come, ye children, unto me, and I will teach
you the fear of the Lord. — Keep thy tongue from evil, and
thy lips from speaking guile : depart from evil, and do good ;
seek peace and pursue it." Psal. xv. at the beginning,
" Who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? who shall dwell in
thy holy hill '! He that walketh uprightly," &c. Psal. xxiv.
3, 4. " Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord 1 and
who shall stand in his holy place r He that hath clean
• hands, and a pure heart," &c. Psal. cxix. 1 . " Blessed are
the undefiled in the way, who walk in the law of the Lord."
Ver. 6. " Then shall I not be ashamed, when I have re
spect to all thy commandments." Prov. viii. 13. "The fear
of the Lord is to hate evil."
The Scripture never uses such emphatical expressions
concerning any other signs of hypocrisy, and unsoundness
of heart, as concerning an unholy practice. So Gal. vi. 7.
" Be not deceived ; God is not mocked : for whatsoever a
man soweth, that shall he also reap." 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10.
" Be not deceived : neither fornicators, nor idolaters, &c.
shall inherit the kingdom of God." Eph. v. 5, 6. " For
this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person,
Sec. hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ, and of
God. Let no man deceive you with vain words." 1 John
iii. 7, 8. " Little children, let no man deceive you : he that
doth righteousness, is righteous, even as he is righteous :
he that committeth sin, is ofthe devil." Chap. ii. 4. " He
that saith, I know him, and keepeth not his command
ments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him." And chap.
i. 6. " If we say that we have fellowship with him, and
walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth." James i.
* As is manifest by Matt xviii. 31. to the end. Chap. xx. 8—15. Chap.
xxii. 11, 12, 13. Chap. xxv. 19— 30. and ver. 35, to the end. Luke xix.
15-23.

26. " If any man among you seem to be religious, and
bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this
man's religion is vain." Chap. iii. 14, 15. " If ye have
bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not, and lie
not against the truth. This wisdom descendeth not from
above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish." Psal. exxv. 5.
" As for such as turn aside unto their crooked ways, the
Lord shall lead them forth with the workers of iniquity."
Isa. xxxv. 8. " An high-way shall be there, and it shall' be
called the way of holiness : the unclean shall not pass over
it." Rev. xxi. 27. " And there shall in no wise enter into
it, whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie." And
in many places, " Depart from me, I know you not, ye
that work iniquity."
Argument VI. Another thing which makes it evident,
that holy practice is the chief of all the signs of the sincerity
of professors, not only to the world, but to their own con
sciences, is, that this is the grand evidence which will here
after be made use of, before the judgment-seat of God ;
according to which his judgment will be regulated, and the
state of every professor of religion unalterably determined.
In the future judgment, there will be an open trial of pro
fessors ; and evidences will be made use of in the judg
ment. For God's future judging of men, in order to their
eternal retribution, will not be his trying and finding out,
and passing a judgment upon, the state of men's hearts, in
his own mind ; but it will be a declarative judgment : and
the end of it will be, not God's forming a judgment vrithin
himself, but the manifestation of his judgment, and the
righteousness of it, to men's own consciences and to the
world. And therefore the day of judgment is called the
day of the revelation of the righteous judgment of God,
Rom. ii. 5. And the end of God's future trial and judg
ment of men, as to the part that each one in particular is
to have in the judgment, will be especially the clear mani
festation of God's righteous judgment to his conscience.*
And therefore though God needs no medium, whereby'to
make the truth evident to himself, yet evidences will be
exhibited in his future judging of men. And doubtless the
evidences used in their trial, will be such as are best fitted
to serve the ends of the judgment ; viz. the manifestation
of the righteous judgment of God, not only to the world,
but to men's own consciences. But the Scriptures abun
dantly teach us, that the grand evidences which the Judge
will make use of in the trial, for these ends, according to
which the judgment of every one shall be regulated, and
the irreversible sentence passed, will be mens works, or
practice, in this world : Rev. xx. 12. " And I saw the dead,
small and great, stand before God : and the books were
opened : and the dead were judged out of those things
which were written in the books, according to their works."
So ver. 13. " And the sea gave up the dead which were in
it ; and death and hell gave up the dead which were in
them : and they were judged every man according to their
works." 2 Cor. v. 10. " For we must all appear before the
judgment-seat of Christ ; that every one may receive the
things done in his body, whether it be good or bad." So
men s practice is the only evidence that Christ represents
the future judgment as regulated by, in that most particu
lar description of the day of judgment, which we have in
the Holy Bible.f The Judge, then, will not examine men
as to the method of their experiences, or set every mari to
tell his story of the manner of his conversion ; but his
works will be brought forth, as evidences of what he is,
what he has done in darkness and in light; Eccl. xii. 14.
" For God will bring every work into judgment, with every
secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." In
the trial of professors at the future judgment, God will
call in the same evidences, to manifest them to themselves
and to the world, which he makes use of to manifest
them, in the temptations or trials of his providence here,
viz. their practice, in cases wherein Christ and other
things come into actual and immediate competition. God,
then, for the manifestation of his righteous judgment, will
weigh professors in a balance that is visible; the same that he
weighs men in now ; which has been already described.
Hence we may undoubtedly infer, that men's works
t Sec Matt xxv. at the latter end. 'See also Rom. ii. 6 — 13. Jer. xvii 10.
Jobxxxiv.ll. Prov. xxiv. 12. Jer. xxxii. 19. Rev.xxii.12. Matt.xvi.27
Rer.ii.23. Ezek. xxxiii. 20. IPeti. 17.

Sect. XIV.

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEF SIGN TO OURSELVES.

331

(taken in the sense explained) are the highest evidences by
which they ought to try themselves. Certainly that which
our Supreme Judge will chiefly use, when we come to
stand before him, we should chiefly adopt, in order to judge
ourselves by* If it had not been revealed in what man
ner and by what evidence the Judge would proceed with
us hereafter, how natural would it be for one to say, " O
that I knew what token God will chiefly look for, and in
sist upon, in the last and decisive judgment ; and which he
expects that all should be able to produce, who would
then be accepted of him, and according to which sentence
shall be passed ; that I might know what evidence espe
cially to seek after now, as I would be sure not to fail
then." And seeing God has so plainly and abundantly
revealed what this evidence is, surely, if we act wisely, we
shall regard it as of the greatest importance.
Now from all that has been said, I think it abundantly
manifest, that christian practice is the most proper evidence
of the gracious sincerity of professors, to themselves and
others; and the chief of all the marks of grace, the sign of
signs, and evidence of evidences, that which seals and
crowns all other signs. — I had rather have the testimony of
my conscience, that I have such a saying of my Supreme
Judge on my side, as that, John xiv. 21. " He that hath
my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth
me ;" than the judgment and fullest approbation of all the
wise, sound, and experienced divines, that have lived this
thousand years, on the most exact and critical examination
of my experiences, as to the manner of my conversion.
Not that there are no other good evidences of a state of
grace but this. There may be other exercises of grace, be
sides these efficient exercises, which the saints may have
in contemplation, that may be very satisfying to them :
but yet this is the chief and most proper evidence. There
may be several good evidences that a tree is a fig-tree ;
but the highest and most proper evidence of it is, that it
actually bears figs. It is possible, toat a man may have a
good assurance of a state of grace, at his first conversion,
before he has had opportunity to rain assurance by this
great evidence I am speaking of.— If a man hears that a
great treasure is offered him, in a distant place, on condi
tion that he will prize it so much, as to be willing to leave
what he possesses at home, and go a journey for it, over
the rocks and mountains that are in the way, to the place
where it is ; it is possible the man may be well assured,
that he values toe treasure to the degree spoken of, as soon
as the offer is made him ; he may reel a willingness to go
for the treasure, beyond all doubt : but yet, this does not
hinder but that his actual going for it, is the highest and most
E roper evidence of his being willing, not only to others,
ut to himself. But then as an evidence to himself, his
outward actions, and the motions of his body in his
journey, are not considered alone, exclusive of the action
of his mind, and a consciousness within himself, of the
thing that moves him, and the end he goes for; otherwise
his bodily motion is no evidence to him, of his prizing the
treasure. In such a manner is christian practice the most
proper evidence of a saving value of the pearl of great
price, and treasure hid in the field.
Christian practice is the sign of signs, in this sense, that
it is the great evidence which confirms and crowns all
other signs of godliness. There is no one grace of the
Spirit of God, but that christian practice is the most
E roper evidence of the truth of it. As it is with the mem-
ers of our bodies, and all our utensils, the proper proof
of their soundness and goodness is in the use of them ; so
it is with our graces, (which are given to be used in prac
tice, as much as our hands and feet, or the tools with
which we work, the proper trial and proof of them is in
their exercise in practice. Most of the things we use are
serviceable to us, and so have their serviceableness proved,
in some pressure, straining, agitation, or collision. So it is
with a bow, a sword, an axe, a saw, a cord, a chain, a staff,
a foot, a tooth, &c. And those which are so weak, as not
* " That which God maketh a rule of his own judgment, as that by
which he judgeth of every man, that is a sure rule for every man to
judge himself by. That which we shall be judged by at the last day is a
sure rule to apply to ourselves for the present Now by our obedience and
works he judgeth us. He will give to every man according to his works."
Dr. Preston's Church's Carriage.
t " Our real taking of Christ, appears in our actions and works ; Isa. i. 19.
' If ye consent and obey, ye shall eat the good things of the land.' That is,

to bear the strain or pressure we need, to which we put
them, are good for nothing. So it is with all the virtues
of the mind. The proper trial and proof of them, is in their
being exercised under those temptations and trials that
God brings us under, in the course of his providence, and
in being put to such service as strains hard upon the
principles of nature.
Practice is the proper proof of the true and saving know
ledge of God : as appears by that of the apostle already
mentioned, " Hereby we know that we know him, that we
keep his commandments." It is in vain for us to " pro
fess that we know God, if in works we deny him," Tit. i.
1 6. And if we " know God, but glorify him not as God ;"
our knowledge will only condemn, and not save us, Rom.
i. 21. The great note of that knowledge which saves and
makes happy, is, that it is practical ; John xiii. 17. " If
ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." Job
xxviii. 28. " To depart from evil is understanding."
Holy practice is the proper evidence of repentance.
When the Jews professed repentance, when they came
confessing their sins to John, preaching the baptism of
repentance for the remission of sins ; he directed them to
the right way of getting and exhibiting proper evidences of
the truth of their repentance when he said to them, " Bring
forth fruits meet for repentance," Matt. iii. 8. Which was
agreeable to the practice of the apostle Paul ; see Acts
xxvi. 20. Pardon and mercy are constantly promised to
him who has this evidence of true repentance, that he for
sakes his sin; Prov. xxviii. 13. and Isa. Iv. 7. and many
other places.
Holy practice is the proper evidence of a saving faith.
It is evident that the apostle James speaks of works, as
what eminently justifies faith, or (which is the same thing)
justifies the professors of faith, and vindicate and manifest
the sincerity of their profession, not only to the world, but
to their own consciences : as is evident by the instance he
gives of Abraham, James ii. 21 — 24. And in ver. 20, and
26. he speaks of the practical and working nature of faith,
as the very life and soul of it ; in toe same manner, that
the active nature and substance, which is in the body of a
man, is the life and soul of it. And if so, practice is toe
proper evidence of the life and soul of true faith, by which
it is distinguished from a dead faith. For doubtless,
practice is the most proper evidence of a practical nature,
and operation the most proper evidence of an operative
nature. Practice is toe best evidence of a saving belief of the
truth. That is spoken of as the proper evidence of the
truth being in a professing Christian, that he walks in the
truth, 3 John 3. " I rejoiced greatly when the brethren
came and testified of the truth that is in thee, even as thou
walkest in the truth."
Practice is the most proper evidence of a true coming to
Christ, and accepting of and closing with him. A true
and saving coming to Christ, is (as Christ often teaches)
a coming so as to forsake all for him. And, as observed
before, to forsake all for Christ in heart, is the same thing
as to have a heart actually to forsake all ; but the proper
evidence of having a heart actually to forsake all, is indeed
actually to forsake all when called to it. If a prince make
suit to a woman in a far country, that she would forsake
her own people, and father's house, and come to him, in
order to be his bride ; the proper evidence of the compli
ance of her heart with the king's suit, is her actually for
saking her own people, and father's house, and coming to
him. By this, her compliance with the king's suit is made
perfect, in toe same sense that the apostle James says, by
works is faith made perfect.f Christ promises eternal life,
on condition of our coming to him : but it is such a
coming as he directed the young man to, who came to in
quire, " what he shall do, that he might have eternal life :"
Christ bid him " go and sell all that he had, and come to
him, and follow him." If he had consented in his heart
to the proposal, (and had therein come to Christ in his
If ye will consent to take JEHOVAH for your Lord and King : if ye give
consent; there is the first thing; but that is not enough; but if ye also
obey. The consent that standeth in the inward act of the mind, the truth of
it will be seen in your obedience, in the acts of your lives. If ye consent
and obey, ye shall eat the good things of the land ; that is, you shall take
of all that he hath that is convenient for you : for then you are married to
him in truth, and have an interest in all his goods." Dr. Preston's Church's
Carriage.

332

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part HI.

heart,) the proper evidence of it would have been his doing
of it : and therein his coming to Christ would have been
made perfect. When Christ called Levi toe publican,
when sitting at toe receipt of custom, and in the midst of
his worldly gains; the closing of Levi's heart with this
invitation of his Saviour to come to him, was manifested,
and made perfect, by his actually rising up, leaving all,
and following him, Luke v. 27, 28. Christ and other
things are set before us together, for us practically to
cleave to one, and forsake the other : in such a case, a
practical cleaving to Christ, is a practical acceptance of
Christ ; as much as a beggar's reaching out his hand, and
taking a gift offered, is his practical acceptance of the gift.
Yea, that act of the soul which cleaves to Christ in prac
tice, is itself the most perfect coming of toe soul to Christ.
Practice is toe most proper evidence of trusting in Christ
for salvation. The proper signification of the word trust,
according to the more ordinary use of it, both in common
speech and in the Holy Scriptures, is the emboldening and
encouragement of a person's mind, to run some venture in
practice, or in something that he does, on the credit of
another's sufficiency and faithfulness. And therefore the
proper evidence of his trusting, is the venture he runs in
what he does. He is not properly said to run any venture
in a dependence on any thing, who does nothing on toat
dependence, or whose practice is no otherwise than if he
had no dependence. For a man to run a venture in de
pendence on another, is for him to do something from toat
dependence, by which he seems to expose mmself, and
which he would not do were it not for that dependence.
And therefore it is in complying with the difficulties and
seeming dangers of christian practice, in a dependence on
Christ's sufficiency and faithfulness to bestow eternal life,
that persons are said to venture themselves upon Christ,
and trust in him for happiness and life. They depend on
such promises as that, Matt. x. 39. " He that loseto his
life for my sake shall find it." And so they part with all,
and venture their all, in a dependence on Christ's suffi
ciency and truth. And this is the scripture notion of
trusting in Christ, in the exercise of a saving faith in him.
Thus Abraham, the father of believers, trusted in Christ,
and by faith forsook his own country, in a reliance on the
covenant of grace which God established with him, Heb.
xi. 8, 9. Thus also " Moses, by faith refused to be called
the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to suffer
affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the plea
sures of sin for a season," Heb. xi. 23, &c. So by faith
others exposed themselves to be stoned, and sawn in sun
der, or slain with the sword; endured the trial of cruel
mockings and scourgings, bonds and imprisonments, and
wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being desti
tute, afflicted, tormented. And in this sense the apostle
Paul trusted in Christ, and committed himself to him, ven
turing himself, and his whole interest, in a dependence on
the ability and faithfulness of his Redeemer, under great
persecutions, and in suffering the loss of all things ; 2 Tim.
l. 12. " For the which cause I also suffer these things :
nevertheless I am not ashamed : for I know whom I have
believed, and I am persuaded that he is able to keep that
which I have committed unto him against that day."
If a man should have word brought him from the king
of a distant land, that he intended to make him his heir,
if upon receiving the tidings he immediately leaves his
native land and friends, and all he has in the world, to go
to that country, in a dependence on what he hears ; then he
may be said to venture himself and all he has in toe world
upon it. But if he only sits still, and hopes for the pro
mised benefit, inwardly pleasing himself with the thoughts
of it ; he cannot properly be said to venture himself upon
it ; he runs no venture in the case ; he does nothing,
otherwise than he would do, if he had received no such
tidings, by which he would be exposed to any suffering,
in case all should fail. So he that on the credit of what
he hears of a future world, and in dependence on the re
port of the gospel, concerning life and immortality, for
sakes all, or does so at least so far as there is occasion,
making every thing entirely give place to his eternal in
terest ; he, and he only, may properly be said to venture
himself on the report of the gospel. And this is the pro
per evidence of a true trust in Christ for salvation.

Practice is the proper evidence of a gracious love, both
to God and men. ¦ The texts that plainly teach this, have
been so often mentioned already, that it is needless to re
peat them.
Practice is the proper evidence of humility. That ex
pression and manifestation of humility of heart which
God insists on, we should regard as the proper expression
and manifestation of it : but this is walking humbly :
Micah vi. 8. " He hath showed thee, O man, what is
good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do
justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God 1"
This is also the proper evidence of the true fear of
God. Prov. viii. 13. "The fear of the Lord is to hate
evil." Psal. xxxiv. 11, Sec. " Come, ye children, hearken
unto me, and I will teach you the fear of the Lord. — Keep
thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile :
depart from evil, and do good ; seek peace and pursue
it." Prov. iii. 7. " Fear the Lord, and depart from evil."
Prov. xvi. 6. " By the fear of the Lord, men depart from
evil." Job i. 8. " Hast thou considered my servant
Job, — a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God,
and escheweth evil ?" Chap. ii. 3. " Hast thou consi
dered my servant Job, — a perfect and an upright man,
one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? and still he
holdeth fast his integrity, although thou movedst me
against him." Psal. xxxvi. 1. " The transgression ofthe
wicked saith within my heart, there is no fear of God be
fore his eyes."
So practice, in rendering again according to benefits
received, is the proper evidence of true thankfulness. Psal.
cxvi. 12. " What shall I render to the Lord, for all his
benefits towards me?" 2 Chron. xxxii. 25. " But Heze-
kiah rendered not again, according to the benefit done un
to him." Paying our vows unto God, and ordering our
conversation aright, seem to be spoken of, as the proper
expression and evidence of true thankfulness in the 50th
Psalm, ver. 14. " Offer unto God thanksgiving, and pay
thy vows to the Most High." Ver. 23. " Whoso offereth
praise, glorifieth me : and to him toat ordereth his con
versation aright, will I show the salvation of God."
The proper evidence of gracious desires and longings,
and what distinguishes them from those that are false and
vain, is, that they are not idle wishes, like Balaam's ; but
effectual in practice, stirring up persons earnestly and
thoroughly to seek the things they look for. Psal. xxvii.
4. " One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I
seek after." Psal. lxiii. 1, 2. " O God, thou art my God,
early will I seek thee : my soul thirsteth for thee, my
flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no
water is, to see thy power and thy glory." Ver. 8. " My
soul followeth hard after thee." Cant. i. 4. " Draw me,
we will run after thee."
Practice is the proper evidence of a gracious hope. 1
John iii. 3. " Every man that hath this hope in him puri-
fieth himself, even as he is pure." Patient continuance
in well-doing, through the difficulties and trials of the
christian course, is often mentioned as the proper ex
pression and fruit of a christian hope ; 1 Thess. i. 3. " Re
membering without ceasing your work of faith, anoVlabour
of love, and patience of hope." 1 Pet. i. 13, 14. " Where
fore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope
to the end, for the grace that is to be brought unto you, at
the revelation of Jesus Christ ; as obedient children," &c.
Psal. cxix. 166. " Lord, I have hoped in thy salvation,
and done thy commandments." Psal. lxxviii. 7. " That
they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works
of the Lord : but keep his commandments."
A cheerful practice of our duty, or doing the will of
God, is the proper evidence of a truly holy joy. Isa. lxiv.
5. " Thou meetest him that rejoiceth, and worketh right
eousness." Psal. cxix. Ill, 112. " Thy testimonies have
I taken for my heritage for ever ; for they are the rejoicing
of my heart. I have inclined mine heart to perform thy
statutes alway, even unto the end." Ver. 14. " I have
rejoiced in the way of thy testimonies, as much as in all
riches." 1 Cor. xiii. 6. " Charity rejoiceth not in iniquity,
but rejoiceth in the truth." 2 Cor. viii. 2. " The abun
dance of their jov, abounded unto the riches of their
liberality." Practice also is the proper evidence of Christian for-

Sect. XIV.

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEF SIGN TO OURSELVES.

333

titude. The trial of a good soldier is not in his chimney
corner, but in the field of battle ; 1 Cor. ix. 25 26. 2
Tim. ii. 3—5.
And as the fruit of holy practice is the chief evidence of
the truth of grace ; so the degree in which experiences
have influence on a person's practice, is the surest evi
dence of the degree of that which is spiritual and divine
in his experiences. Whatever pretences persons may
make to great discoveries, great love and joys, they are no
further to be regarded, than they have influence on their
practice. Not but that allowances must be made for the
natural temper. But that does not hinder, but that the
degree of grace is justly measured, by the degree of the
effect in practice. For the effect of grace is as great, and
the alteration as remarkable, in a person of a very ill
natural temper, as another. Although a person of such a
temper, will not behave himself so well, with the same
degree of grace, as another ; the diversity from what was
before conversion, may be as great : because a person of
a good natural temper did not behave himself so ill, be
fore conversion.
Thus I have endeavoured to represent the evidence
there is, that christian practice is the chief of all the signs
of saving .grace. And before I conclude this discourse, I
would say something briefly, in answer to two objections,
that may possibly be made by some, against what has been
said upon this head.
Object. 1. Some may be ready to say, this seems to be
contrary to an opinion much received among good peo
ple ; that professors should judge of their state chiefly by
their inward experience, and that spiritual experiences are
the main evidences of true grace.
I answer, It is doubtless a true opinion, and justly much
received among good people, that professors should chiefly
judge of their state by their experience. But it is a great
mistake, that what has been said is at all contrary to' that
opinion. The chief sign of grace to the consciences of
Christians being christian practice, in the sense explained,
and according to what has been shown to be the true no
tion of christian practice, is not at all inconsistent with
christian experience being the chief evidence of grace.
Christian or holy practice is spiritual practice ; and that is
not the motion of a body, that knows not how, nor when,
nor wherefore it moves : but spiritual practice in man, is
the practice of a spirit and body jointly ; or the practice
of a spirit, animating, commanding, and actuating a body
to which it is united, and over which it has power given it
by the Creator. And therefore the main thing in this holy
practice is the holy acts of the mind, directing and govern
ing the motions of the body. And the motions of the body
are to be looked upon as belonging to christian practice,
only secondarily, and as they are dependent and conse
quent on the acts of the soul. The exercises of grace which
Christians are conscious of, are what they experience with
in themselves ; and herein therefore lies christian expe
rience : and this christian experience consists as much in
those operative exercises of grace in the will, immediately
concerned in the management of the behaviour of the body,
as in other exercises. These inward exercises are not the
less a part of christian experience, because they have out
ward behaviour immediately connected with them. A
strong act of love to God is not the less a part of spiritual
experience, because it is the act that immediately produces
and effects some self-denying and expensive outward ac
tion, which is much to the honour and glory of God.
To speak of christian experience and practice, as if they
were two things, properly and entirely distinct, is to make
a distinction without consideration or reason. Indeed all
christian experience is not properly called practice; but
all christian practice is properly experience. And the dis
tinction that is made between them, is not only an unrea
sonable, but an unscriptural distinction. Holy practice is
one kind or part of christian experience ; and both reason
and Scripture represent it as the chief, and most important,
and most distinguishing part of it. So it is represented
in Jer. xxii. 15, 16. " Did not thy father eat and drink,
and do justice and judgment? — He judged the cause of
the poor and needy : — was not this to know me? saith the
Lord." Our inward acquaintance with God, surely be
longs to the head of experimental religion ; but this God

represents as consisting chiefly in that experience which
there is in holy practice. So the exercises of those graces
of the love of God, and the fear of God, are a part of ex
perimental religion; but these the Scripture represents as
consisting chiefly in practice, in those fore-mentioned texts.
—1 John v. 3. " This is the love of God, that we keep his
commandments." 2 John 6. " This is love, that we walk
after his commandment." Psal. xxxiv. 11, &c. " Come,
ye children, and I will teach you the fear of the Lord :—
Depart from evil, and do good." Such experiences as
these Hezekiah took comfort in chiefly, on his sick-bed ;
when he said, " Remember, O Lord, I beseech thee, how
I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect
heart." And such experiences as these the psalmist chiefly
insists upon, in the 119th Psalm, and elsewhere. Such
experiences as these (he apostle Paul mainly insists upon,
as Rom. i. 9. " God is my witness, whom I serve with my
spirit in the gospel of his Son." 2 Cor. i. 12. " For our
rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that, by
the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the
world. Chap. iv. 13. We having the same spirit of faith,
according as it is written, I have believed, and therefore
have I spoken: we also believe, and therefore speak.
Chap. v. 7. We walk by faith, not by sight. Ver. 14. The
loye of Christ constraineth us. Chap. vi. 4—7. In all
things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in
much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, —
in labours, in watchings, in fastings. By pureness, by
knowledge, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love un
feigned,— by "the power of God." Gal. ii. 20. " I am
crucified with Christ : nevertheless I live : yet not I, but
Christ liveth in me : and the life which I now live in the
flesh, I live by the faith ofthe Son of God." Phil. iii. 7,
8. " But what things were gain to me, those I counted
loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless, and I count all things
but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ
Jesus my Lord, and do count them but dung that I may
win Christ." Col. i. 29. " Whereunto 1 also labour,
striving according to his working, which worketh in me
mightily." 1 Thess. ii. 2. " We were bold in our God, to
speak unto you the gospel of God with much contention.
Ver. 8 — 10. Being affectionately desirous of you, we were
willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God
only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto
us. For ye remember, brethren, our labour and travail,
labouring night and day. — Ye are witnesses, and God
also, how holily, and justlv, and unblamably we behaved
ourselves among you." And with such experiences as
these this blessed apostle chiefly comforted himself, when
he was going to martyrdom, 2 Tim. iv. 6, 7. " For I am
now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is
at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my
course, I have kept the faith."
And not only does the most important and distinguish
ing part of christian experience, lie in spiritual practice ;
but such is the nature of that sort of exercises of grace,
wherein spiritual practice consists, that nothing is so pro
perly called by the name of experimental religion. For
that experience, which exercises of grace prove effectual at
the very point of trial — wherein God proves which we
will actually cleave to, Christ or our lusts — is the proper
experiment of the truth and power of our godliness ; where
in its victorious power and efficacy in producing its proper
effect, and reaching its end, is found by experience. This
is properly christian experience, wherein the saints have
opportunity to see, by actual experience and trial, whether
they have a heart to do the will of God, and to forsake
other things for Christ, or no. As that is called experi
mental philosophy, which brings opinions and notions to
the test of fact ; so is that properly called experimental
religion, which brings religious affections and intentions to
the like test.
There is a sort of external religious practice, without
inward experience ; which in the sight of God is esteemed
good for nothing. And there is what is called experience,
without practice, being neither accompanied nor followed
with a christian behaviour ; and this is worse than nothing.
Many persons seem to have very wrong notions of chris
tian experience, and spiritual discoveries. Whenever a
person finds a heart to treat God as God, at the time he

334

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III;

has the trial, and finds his disposition effectual in the ex
periment, that is the most proper and most distinguishing
experience. And to have at such a time that sense of
divine things, that apprehension of the truth, importance
and excellency of the things of religion, which then sways
and prevails, and governs his heart and hands ; this is the
most excellent spiritual light, and these are the most dis
tinguishing discoveries. Religion consists much in holy
affection; but those exercises of affection which are most
distinguishing of true religion, are these practical exer
cises. Friendship between earthly friends consists much
in affection ; but yet those strong exercises of affection,
that actually carry them through fire and water for each
other, are the highest evidences of true friendship.
There is nothing in what has been said, contrary to what
is asserted by some sound divines ; when they sav, that
there are no sure evidences of grace, but the acts of grace.
For that doth not hinder but that these operative produc
tive acts, those exercises of grace, which are effectual in
practice, may be the highest evidences. Nor does it hinder
but that, when there are many of these acts and exercises,
following one another in a course, under various trials of
every kind, the evidence is still heightened ; as one act
confirms another. A man by once seeing his neighbour,
may have good evidence of his presence ; but by seeing
him from day to day, and conversing with him in a course,
in various circumstances, the evidence is established. The
disciples, when they first saw Christ after his resurrection,
had good evidence that he was alive : but by conversing
with him for forty days, and his showing himself to them
alive, by many infallible proofs, they had yet higher evi
dence* The witness or seal of the Spirit consists in the effect of
the Spirit of God in the heart, in the implantation and ex
ercises of grace there, and so consists in experience. And
it is beyond doubt, that this seal of the Spirit is the highest
kind of evidence of the saints' adoption, that ever they ob
tain. But in these exercises of grace in practice, God gives
witness, and sets to his seal, in the most conspicuous,
eminent, and evident manner. It has been abundantly
found to be true in fact, by the experience of the christian
church, that Christ commonly gives by his Spirit the
greatest and most joyful evidences to his saints of their
sonship, in those effectual exercises of grace under trials,
of which we have spoken ; as is manifest in the full as
surance and unspeakable joys of many of the martyrs.
Agreeable to 1 Pet. iv. 14. " If ye are reproached for the
name of Christ, happy are ye ; for toe Spirit of glory and
of God resteth upon you." And Rom. v. 2, 3. " We re
joice in hope of the glory of God, and glory in tribula
tions." And agreeable to what the apostle Paul often
declares of what he experienced in his trials. When the
apostle Peter, in my text, speaks of the joy unspeakable,
and full of glory, which the Christians to whom he wrote
experienced; he has respect to what they found under
persecution, as appears by the context. Christ thus mani
festing himself, as the friend and saviour of his saints
cleaving to him under trials, seems to have been represent
ed of old by his coming and manifesting himself to
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, in the furnace. And
when the apostle speaks of the witness of toe Spirit, in
Rom. viii. 15 — 17. he has a more immediate respect to
what the Christians experienced in their exercises of love
to God, while suffering persecution ; as is plain by the
context. He is, in toe foregoing verses, encouraging the
christian Romans under their sufferings, that though their
bodies be dead because of sin, yet they should be raised
to life again. But it is more especially plain by toe verse
immediately following, ver. 18. " For I reckon, that the
sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be com
pared with toe glory that shall be revealed in us." So the
apostle has evidently respect to their persecutions, in all
that he says to the end of the chapter. So when the
apostle speaks of the earnest of the Spirit, which God had
* " The more these visible exercises of grace are renewed, the more
certain you will be. The more frequently these actings are renewed, the
more abiding and confirmed your assurance will be, A man that has been
assured of such visible exercises of grace, may quickly after be in doubt,
whether he was not mistaken. But when such actings are renewed again
and again, he grows more settled and established about his good estate. If
a man see a thing once, that makes him sure ; but if afterwards he fear he
was deceived, when he comes to see it again, he is more sure he was not

given to him, 2 Cor. v. 5. the context shows plainly that
e has respect to what was given, him in his great" trials
and sufferings. And in toat promise of " the white stone,
and new name, to him that overcomes," Rev. ii. 17. it is
evident Christ has a specjal respect to a benefit that
Christians should obtain h-fovercoming, when tried, in that
day of persecution. This appears by ver. 13. and many
other passages in this epistle to the seven churches of
Asia. Object. 2. Some also may be ready to object against
what has been said of christian practice being the chief
evidence of the truth of grace, that this is a /egaf doctrine ;
and that this making practice a thing of such great impor
tance in religion, magnifies works, and tends to lead men to
make too much of their own doings, to toe diminution ofthe
glory of free grace, and does not seem well to consist with
toat great gospel-doctrine of justification by faith alone.
But this objection is altogether without reason. Which
way is it inconsistent with toe freeness of God's grace, toat
holy practice should be a sign of God's grace ? It is our
works being the price of God's favour, and not their being
the sign of it, that is the thing which is inconsistent with
the freeness of that favour. Surely the beggar's looking
on the money he has in his hands, as a sign of the kind
ness of him who gave it to him, is in no respect inconsist
ent with the freeness of that kindness. It is his having
money in his hand as the price of a benefit, that is toe thing
which is inconsistent with the free kindness of the giver.
The notion ofthe freeness of the grace of God to sinners,
as that is revealed and taught in the gospel, is not, that no
holy and amiable qualifications or actions in us shall be a
fruit, and so a sign, of that grace ; but that it is not the
worthiness or loveliness of any qualification or action of
ours which recommends us to that grace. Free grace
implies, that kindness is shown to the unworthy and un
lovely ; that there is great excellency in the benefit be
stowed, and no excellency in the subject as the price of it ;
that goodness goes forth, and flows out, from the fulness
of God's nature, the fulness of the fountain of good, with
out any amiableness jn toe object to draw it. And this
is the notion of justification tmWiow. _>or/rs, (as this doctrine
is taught in the Scripture,) that it is not the worthiness or
loveliness of our works, or any thing in us, which is in any
wise accepted with God, as a balance for the guilt of sin,
or a recommendation of sinners to his acceptance as heirs
of life. Thus we are justified only by the righteousness of
Christ, and not by our righteousness. And when works
" to faith in this affair, and it is said that we are

justified by faith and not by works ; thereby is meant, that
it is not the worthiness or amiableness of our works, or
any thing in us, which recommends us to an interest in
Christ and his benefits ; but that we have this interest only
by faith, or by our souls receiving Christ, or adhering to
and closing with him. But that the worthiness or ami
ableness of nothing in us recommends and brings us to an
interest in Christ, is no argument that nothing in us is a
sign of an interest in Christ.
If the doctrines of free grace and justification by faith
alone, be inconsistent with the importance of holy practice
as a sign of grace ; then they are equally inconsistent with
the importance of any thing whatsoever in us as a sign of
grace ; and holiness, or any grace in us, or any experiences ;
for it is as contrary to the doctrines of free grace and justi
fication by faith alone, toat any of these should be the
righteousness which we are justified by, as toat Italy practice
should be so. It is with holy works, as it is with holy
qualifications : it is inconsistent with the freeness of
gospel-grace, that a title to salvation should be given to
men for the loveliness of any of their holy qualifications,
as much as that it should be given for the holiness of their
works. It is inconsistent with toe gospel-doctrine of free
grace, that an interest in Christ and his benefits should be
given for the loveliness of a man's true holiness; the
amiableness of his renewed, sanctified, heavenly heart; his
mistaken. If a manread such passages in a book, he is sure itisso. Some
months after, some may bear him down, that he was mistaken, so as to
make him question it himself: but when he looks, and reads it again, he is
abundantly confirmed. The more men's grace is multiplied, the more their
peace is multiplied; 2 Pet i. 2. ' Grace and peace be multiplied unto you,
through the knowledge of God and Jesus our Lord." Stoddard's Way to
know Sincerity and Hypocrisy.

Sect. XIV.

CHRISTIAN PRACTICE IS THE CHIEF SIGN TO OURSELVES.

335

love to God, his experience of joy in the Holy Ghost, self-
emptiness, a spirit to exalt Christ above all, and to give
all glory to him, and a heart devoted unto him. , I say,
it is inconsistent with the gospel-doctrine of free grace,
that a title to Christ's benefits should be given out of regard
to toe loveliness of any of these, or toat any of these should
be our righteousness in the affair of justification. And yet
this does not hinder the importance of these things as
evidences of an interest in Christ. Just so it is with respect
to holy actions and works. .- To make light of works be
cause we are not justified by them, is the same thing in
effect as to make light of all religion, all grace and holi
ness, yea, true evangelical holiness, and all gracious ex
perience : for all is included, when the Scripture says, we
are not justified by works. By works in this case is meant
all our own righteousness, religion, or holiness, and every
thing that is in us ; all the good we do, and are conscious
of; all extamal acts, all internal exercises of grace, all ex
periences, and all those holy and heavenly things wherein
the life, power, and very essence of religion consist ; all
those great things which Christ and his apostles mainly
insisted on in their preaching, and endeavoured to promote,
as of the greatest consequence in toe hearts and lives of
men, and all good dispositions, exercises, and qualifications
of every kind whatsoever ; and even faith itself, considered
as a part of our holiness. For we are justified by none
of these things : if we were, we should, in a scripture
sense, be justified by works. And therefore if it be not
legal, and contrary to the evangebcal doctrine of justifica
tion without works, to insist on any of these, as of great
importance in evidence of an interest in Christ ; then no
more is it thus, to insist on the importance of holy prac
tice. It would be legal to suppose, toat holy practice
justifies by entitling us to Christ's benefits ; but it is not
legal to suppose, that holy practice justifies toe sincerity of a
believer, as the proper evidence of it. The apostle James
did not think it legal to say, that Abraham our father was
justified by works, in this sense. The Spirit that indited
the Scripture, did not think the great importance and abso
lute necessity of holy practice, in this respect, to be incon
sistent with the freeness of grace ; for it commonly teaches
them both together; as in Rev. xxi. 6, 7. God says, "I
will give unto him that is athirst, of the fountain of the
water of life freely ;" and then adds in the very next
words, " He that overcometh shall inherit all things ;" as
though behaving well in the christian race and warfare,
were the condition of the promise. So in the next chapter,
the 14th and 15th verses, Christ says, "Blessed are they
that do his commandments, that they may have right to
the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the city :"
and then declares, 15th ver. how they that are of a wicked
practice shall be excluded. Yet in the two' following
verses, with very great solemnity, Christ invites all to come,
and take of the water of life freely ; " I am the root and
the offspring of David, the bright and morning star. — And
the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that
heareth, say, Come. And let him that is athirst, come :
and whosoever will, let him come and take ofthe water of
life freely." So chap. iii. 20, 21. " Behold, I stand at the
door and knock : If any man hear my voice, and open the
door, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he
with me." But then it is added in the next words, " To
him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my
throne." And in that great invitation, Matt. xi. " Come
unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest ;" Christ adds in the next words, " Take
my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and
lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your souls : for
my yoke is easy, and my burden is light :" as though taking
the burden of'Christ's service, and imitating his example,
were necessary in order to the promised rest. So in that great
invitation to sinners to accept of free grace ; Isa. Iv. " Ho,
every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that
# " You say you know Christ, and the love and good-will of Christ'to-
wards you, and that he is the propitiation for your sins. How do you know
this? ' He thatsaith I knowhim, andkeepethnotbis commandments, is a
liar,' 1 John ii. 4. True, might some reply, he thatkeeps not the commands
of Christ, hath thereby a sure evidence that he knows him not, and that he
is not united to him ; but is this any evidence that we do know him/ and
that we are united to him, if we do keep his commandments ? Yes, verily,
saith the apostle, " Hereby we do know that we knowhim, if we keep his
commandments." And again, ver. 5. " Hereby know we that we are in

hath no money : come ye, buy and eat, yea, come, buy
wine and milk without money, and without price :" even
there, in the continuation of the same invitation, the sin
ner's forsaking his wicked practice is spoken of as neces
sary to the obtaining of mercy; ver. 7. " Let the wicked
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts:
and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy
upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
So the riches of divine grace in the justification of sinners,
is set forth with the necessity of holy practice, Isa. i. 16,
&c. " Wash ye, make you clean, put away the evil of your
doings from before mine eyes, cease to do evil, learn to do
well, seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the
fatherless, plead for the widow. Come now, let us reason
together, saith the Lord : though your sins be as scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like
crimson, they shall be as wool." And in that most solemn
invitation of wisdom, Prov. ix. after it is represented what
great provision is made ; and how, all things were ready, the
house built, the beasts killed, the wine mingled, the table
furnished, and the messengers sent forth to invite the
guests ; then we have the free invitation, ver. 4 — 6.
" Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither : as for him that
wanteth understanding, (i.e. has no righteousness,) she saith
to him, Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine
which I have mingled." But then in the next breath it
follows, " Forsake the foolish, and live ; and go in the way
of understanding :" as though forsaking sin, and going in
the way of holiness, were necessary in order to life. So
that the freeness of grace, and the necessity ot holy practice,
which are thus joined together in Scripture, are not incon
sistent. Nor does it at ail diminish the honour and impor
tance of faith, that its exercises and effects in practice should
be esteemed its chief signs ; any more than it lessens the
importance of life, that action and motion are esteemed it-
chief signs.
So that in what has been said ofthe importance of holy
practice as the main sign of sincerity, there is nothing legal ;
nothing derogatory to the freedom and sovereignty of gos
pel-grace ; nothing in the least clashing with the gospel-
doctrine of justification by faith alone without the works
of the law ; nothing in the least tending to lessen the glory
of the Mediator and our dependence on his righteousness ;
nothing infringing on the special prerogatives of faith in the
affair of our salvation ; nothing in any wise detracting
from the glory of God and his mercy, exalting man, or di
minishing his dependence and obligation. So that if any
are against the importance of holy practice as explained, it
must be only from a senseless aversion to the letters and
sound of the word works ; when there is no reason in the
world to be given for it, but what may be given with
equal force, why they should have an aversion to the words
holiness, godliness, grace, religion, experience, and even
faith itself : for to make a righteousness of any of these, is
as legal, and as inconsistent with the way of the new co
venant, as to make a righteousness of holy practice.*
It is greatly to the hurt of religion, for persons to insist
little on those things which the Scripture insists most
upon, as of most importance in the evidence of our interest
in Christ, under a notion that to lay weight on these things
is legal, and an old covenant-way. To neglect the exer
cises and effectual operations of grace in practice, and in
sist almost wholly on discoveries, and the method of the
immanent exercises of conscience and grace in contempla
tion — depending on an ability to make nice distinctions in
these matters, and a faculty of accurate discerning in them,
from philosophy or experience — is highly injurious. It is
in vain to seek for any better or any further signs, than
those which the Scriptures have most expressly mentioned,
and most frequently insisted on, as signs of godliness.
They who pretend to a greater accuracy in giving signs —
or, by their extraordinary experience, or insight into the
nature of things, to give more distinguishing marks, which
him." What can be more plain ? "What a vanity is it to say, that this is
running upon a covenant of works ?— O beloved, it is a sad thing to hear such
questions and such cold answers also, that sanctification possibly may be an
evidence. Maybe? Isit not certain ? Assuredly, to deny it, is as bad as to
affirm that God's own promises of favour are not sure evidences thereof, and
consequently that they are lies and untruths — Our Saviour, who was no
legal preacher, pronounceth, and consequently evidenceth, blessedness, by
eight or nine promises, expressly made to such persons, as had inherent
graces, Matt. v. 3, 4, tic."— Shepard's Sound Believer, -p. 221, 222, 223. «

336

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

Part III.

shall more thoroughly search out and detect the hypo
crite — are but subtle to darken their own minds, and the
minds of others ; their refinings, and nice discerning, are
in God's sight but refined foolishness, and sagacious de
lusion. Here are applicable those words of Agur, Prov.
xxx. 5, 6. " Every word of God is pure; he is a shield to
them that put their trust in him : add thou not unto his
words, lest he reprove thee, and thou be found a liar."
Our wisdom and discerning, with regard to the hearts of
men, is not much to be trusted. We can see but a little
way into the nature of the soul, and the depths of man's
heart. The ways are many whereby persons' affections
may be moved without any supernatural influence ; the
natural springs of the affections are various and secret.
Many things have oftentimes a joint influence on the
affections ; the imagination, natural temper, education, the
common influences of the Spirit of God ; a surprising
concourse of affecting circumstances, an extraordinary co
incidence of things in the course of men's thoughts, to
gether with the subtle management of invisible malicious
spirits. No philosophy or experience will ever be suffi
cient to guide us safely through this labyrinth and maze,
without our closely following the clue which God has
given us in his word. God knows his own reasons, why
he insists on some things, and plainly sets them forth as
what we should try ourselves by, rather than others. It
may be it is because he knows that these things are at
tended with less perplexity, and that we are less liable to
be deceived by them than others. He best knows our
nature, and the nature and manner of his own operations ;
and he best knows the way of our safety. He knows
what allowances to make for different states of his church,
different tempers of particular persons, and varieties in the
manner of his own operations ; how far nature may re
semble grace, and how far nature may be mixed with
grace.; what affections may rise from imagination, and how
far imagination may be mixed with spiritual illumination.
And therefore it is our wisdom not to take his work out
of his hands ; but to follow him, and lay the stress of the
judgment of ourselves there, where he has directed us. If
we do otherwise, no wonder if we are bewildered, con

founded, and fatally deluded. But if we had got into the
way of looking chiefly at those things which Christ, his
apostles, and prophets chiefly insisted on — while judging
of ourselves and others, chiefly regarding practical exer
cises and effects of grace, not neglecting other things — it
would have been of manifold happy consequence. This
would above all things tend to the conviction of deluded
hypocrites, and to prevent the delusion of those whose
hearts were never brought to a thorough compliance with
the strait and narrow way which leads to life. It would
tend to deliver us from innumerable perplexities, arising
from various inconsistent schemes about methods and steps
of experience ; it would greatly tend to prevent professors
neglecting strictness of life, and tend to promote their en-
gagedness and earnestness in their christian walk ; and it
would become fashionable for men to show their Chris
tianity, more by an amiable distinguished behaviour, than
by an abundant and excessive declaring of 4heir experi
ences. We should then get into the way of appearing
lively in religion, more by being lively in the service of
God and our generation, than by the forwardness of our
tongues, and making a business of proclaiming on toe
house-tops the holy and eminent acts and exercises of our
own hearts. Then Christians who are intimate friends,
would talk together of their experiences and comforts, in
a manner better becoming christian humility and modesty,
and more to each other's profit ; their tongues not running
before their hands and feet, after the prudent example of
the blessed apostle, 2 Cor. xii. 6. Many occasions of
spiritual pride would be cut off, and so a great door shut
against the devil ; and a great many of toe main stumbling-
blocks against experimental and powerful religion would
be removed. Religion would be declared and manifested
in such a way as — instead of hardening spectators, and ex
ceedingly promoting infidelity and atheism — wouid above
all things tend to convince men that there is a reality in
religion, and greatly awaken them, and win them, by con
vincing toeir consciences of the importance and excellency
of religion. Thus the light of professors would so shine
before men, that others seeing their good works, would
glorify their Father which is inneaven !

APPENDIX
TO THE TREATISE OF THE AFFECTIONS, IN TWO LETTERS*

LETTER I.
TO MR. GILLESPIE, IN ANSWER TO OBJECTIONS.

Rev. and Dear Sir,

Northampton, Sept. 4, 174T.

I received your letter of Nov. 24, 1746, though very
long after it was written. I thank you for it, and for your
offering me a correspondence with you. Such an offer I
shall gladly embrace, and esteem it a great privilege, more
especially from the character I have received of you from
Mr. Abercrombie, who I perceive was intimately acquaint
ed with you.
As to the objections you make against some things con
tained in my late book on Religious Affections, I am sorry
you did not read the book through, before you made them ;
if you had, perhaps the difficulties would not have appear
ed quite so great. As to what is contained in the 74th
and 75th pages, I suppose there is not the least difference
of opinion between you and me, unless it be concerning
the signification and propriety of expressions. I am fully
of your mind, and always was without the least doubt of
it ; " That every one, both saint and sinner, is indispens
ably bound, at all seasons, by the divine authority, to
* These Letters were first printed in the " Quarterly Magazine," Edinb

believe instantly on toe Lord Jesus, and that the command
of the Lord, 1 John iii. 23. that we should believe on the
name of his Son Jesus Christ, as it is a prescription of
the moral law, no less binds the sinner to immediate per
formance, than toe commandment not to kill, to keep the
Sabbath-day, or any other duty, as to the present perform
ance of which, in way of duty, all agree the sinner is
bound ; and that men are bound to trust the divine faith
fulness, be their case with respect to light and darkness,
sight, &c. what it will ; and that no situation they can be
in, looses them from obligation to glorify the Lord at all
seasons, and expecting the fulfilment of his words ; and
toat the sinner that is without spiritual light or sight is
bound to believe, and that it is a duty at that very time
incumbent on him to believe." But I conceive that there
is a great deal of difference between these two things, viz.
its being a man's duty toat is without spiritual light or
sight to believe, and its being his duty to believe without
spiritual light or sight, or to believe while he yet remains
without spiritual light or sight. Just the same difference
that is between these two things, viz. its being his duty that
has no faith to believe, and its being his duty to believe
without faith, or to believe without believing. I trust there
is none will assert the latter, because of the contradiction
that it implies. As it is not proper to say, it is a man's
duty to believe without faith, because it implies a contra-

Appendix.

LETTER I. TO MR. GILLESPIE.

337

diction, so I think it equally improper to say it is a man's
duty to believe without these things that are essentially
implied in faith, because that also implies a contradiction.
But a spiritual sight of Christ or knowledge of Christ is
essentially implied in the very nature and notion of faith,
and therefore it is absurd to talk of believing on Christ
without spiritual light or sight. It is the duty of a man
that is without these things that essentially belong to faith,
to believe, and it is the duty of a man that is without these
things that essentially belong to love, to love God ; be
cause it is an indispensable obligation that lies on all men
at all times, and in all circumstances, to love God : but
yet it is not a duty to love God without loving him, or
continuing without those things that essentially belong to
his love. It is toe duty of those that have no sense of the
loveliness of God, and have no esteem of him, to love him,
and they be not in the least excused by the want of this
sense and esteem, in not loving him one moment ; but yet
it would be properly nonsense to say it is their duty to
love him without any sense of his loveliness or any esteem
of him. Tt is indeed their duty this moment to come out
of their disesteem and stupid wicked insensibility of his
loveliness, and to love him. I made the distinction (I
thought) very plainly, in the midst of those sentences you
quote as exceptionable. I say expressly, p. 74. " It is
truly the duty of those who are in darkness to come out
of darkness into light and believe ; but, that they should
confidently believe and trust, while they yet remain with
out spiritual light or sight, is an anti-scriptural and absurd
doctrine." The misunderstanding between us, dear Sir, I
suppose to be in the different application of the particle
without, in my use of it, and your understanding of it, or
what we understand as spoken of and supposed in the
expression, without spiritual light or sight. As I use it,
I applv it to the act of believing, and I suppose it to be
very absurd to talk of an act of faith without spiritual
. light and sight, wherein I suppose you will allow me to
be in the right. As you understand it, it is applied to
duty or obligation, and you suppose it to be not at all
absurd to talk of an obligation to believe without spiritual
light or sight, but that the obligation remains full where
there is no spiritual light or sight, wherein I allow you
are in the right. I think, Sir, if you read what I have
said in my book on this head again, it will be exceeding
apparent to you, toat it is thus that I apply the preposition
without, and not as you before understood it. I thought I
had very plainly manifested that what I meant by being in
darkness was a being in spiritual blindness, and so in a
dead, stupid, carnal, and unchristian frame and way, and
not what is commonly called a being without the light of
God's countenance, under the hidings of his face. We
have a great number of people in these parts that go on
that supposition in their notions and practice, that there
really is such a thing as such a manner of believing, such
a kind of faith as this, viz. a confident believing and firm
trusting in God in the dark, in the sense mentioned, that
is to be sought after, and is the subject matter of divine
prescription, and which many actually have ; and indeed
there are innumerable instances of such as are apparently
in a most senseless, careless, negligent, apostate, and
every way unchristian and wicked fame, that yet, en
couraged by this principle, do retain an exceeding strong
confidence of their good state, and count that herein they
do their duty and give much glory to God, under the
notion of trusting God in the dark, and hoping against
hope, and not trusting on their own righteousness ; and
they suppose it would show a legal spirit to do otherwise.
I thought it would be manifest to every reader that I was
arguing against such a sort of people.
You say, "It merits consideration whether the believer
should ever doubt of his state, on any account whatever,
because doubting, as opposed to believing, is absolutely
sinful." Here, Sir, you seem to suppose that a person's
doubting of his own good estate, is the proper opposite of
faith, and these and some other expressions in your letter
seem to suppose that doubting of one's good estate and
unbelief is the same thing, and so, toat being confident of
one's good estate and faith are the same thing. This I
acknowledge I don't understand ; I don't take faith, and
a person's believing that they have faith, to be the same
VOL. i. z

thing. Nor do I take unbelief, or being without faith, and
doubting whether they have it, to be the same thing, but
entirely different. I should have been glad eimer that you
had taken a little more notice of what 1 say on this head,
p. 76, 77. or that you had said something to convince me
that I am wrong in this point. The exercise of faith is
doubtless the way to be delivered from darkness, deadness,
backsliding, &c. or rather is the deliverance ; as forsaking
sin is the way to deliverance from sin, and is the deliver
ance: itself. The exercise of grace is doubtless the way to
deliverance from a graceless frame, that consists in the
want of the exercise of grace. But as to what you say,
or seem to intimate, of a person's being confident of his
own good estate, as being the way to be delivered from
darkness, deadness, backsliding, and prevailing iniquity,
1 think, whoever supposes this to be God's method of de
livering his saints, when sunk into an evil, careless, carnal,
and unchristian frame, first to assure them of their good
estate and his favour, while they yet remain in such a
frame, and to make that the means of their deliverance,
does surely mistake God's method of dealing with such
persons. Among all the multitudes I have had opportunity
to observe, I never knew one dealt with after this manner.
I have known many brought back from great declension,
that appeared to me to be true saints, but it was in a way
very diverse from this. In the first place, conscience has
been awakened, and they have been brought into great
fear of the wrath of God, having his favour hid, and they
have been the subjects of a kind of new work of humili
ation, brought to a great sense of their deserving of God's
wrath, even while they have yet feared it, before God has
delivered them from the apprehension of it, and comforted
them with a renewed sense of his favour. ,
As to what I say of the necessity of universal obedi
ence, or of one way of known sin, (i. e. so as properly to
be said to be the way and manner of the man,) being ex
ception enough against a man's salvation ; I should have
known better what to have said further about it, if you
had briefly shown how the scriptures that I mention, and
the arguments I deduce from them, are insufficient for the
proof of this point. I confess they appear to me to prove
it as fully as any thing concerning the necessary qualifi
cations of a true saint can be proved from Scripture.
You object against my saying, p. 276. " Nor can a true
saint ever fall away, so that it shall come to this, that or
dinarily there shall be no remarkable difference in his
walk and behaviour since his conversion, from what was
before." This, I think, implies no more than that his
walk over the same ground, in like circumstances, and
under like trials, will have a remarkable difference. As to
the instance you mention of David and Solomon, I don't
know that the Scripture gives us any where so much of a
history of their walk and behaviour before their conversion,
as to put us into any proper capacity of comparing their
after walk with their former. These examples are uncer
tain. But I think those doctrines of the Scripture are not
uncertain, which I mention in the place you cite, to con
firm the point, which teach that converts are new men,
new creatures, that they are renewed not only within but
without, that old things are passed away, and all things
become new, that they walk in newness of life, that the
members of their bodies are new, that whereas they before
were the servants of sin, and yielded their members ser
vants of iniquity, now they yield them servants of right
eousness unto holiness.
As to those doubts and cases of difficulty you mention,
I should think it very needless for a divine of your cha
racter, to apply yourself to me for a solution of difficulties,
for whom it would be more proper to learn of you.
However, since you are pleased to insist on my giving
my mind upon them, I would observe, as to the first case
you mention, of a person incessantly harassed by Satan,
&c. you don't say of what nature the temptations are that
he is harassed with. But I think it impossible to give
proper advice and direction without knowing this. Satan
is to be resisted in a very different manner, in different
kinds of onsets. When persons are harassed with those
strange, horrid injections, that melancholic persons are often
subject to, he is to be resisted in a very different manner,
from what is proper in case of violent temptation to gratify

338

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

some worldly lust. In toe former case, I should by no
means advise a person to resist the devil by entering toe
lists with him, and vehemently engaging their mind in an
earnest dispute and violent struggle with the grand adver
sary, but rather by diverting the mind from his frightful
suggestions, by going on stedfastly and diligently in toe
ordinary course of duty, without allowing themselves
time and leisure to attend to the devil's sophistry, or
viewing his frightful representations, committing them
selves to God by prayer in this way, without anxiety about
what had been suggested. That is the best way of resist
ing the devil, that crosses his design most ; and he more
effectually disappoints him in such cases, that treats him
with neglect, than he that attends so much to him, as to
engage in a direct conflict, and goes about to try his
strength and skill with him, in a violent dispute or combat.
The latter course rather gives him advantage, than any
thing else. It is what he would ; if he can get persons
thus engaged in a violent straggle, he gains a great point.
He knows that melancholic persons are not fit for it. By
this he gains that point of diverting and taking off the
person from the ordinary course of duty, which is one
great thing he aims at ; and by this, having gained toe
person's attention to what he says, he has opportunity to
use all his craft and subtlety, and by this struggle he raises
melancholic vapours to a greater degree, and further
weakens the person's mind, and gets him faster and faster
in his snares, deeper and deeper in the mire. He increases
the person's anxiety of mind, which is the very thing by
which mainly he fulfils all his purposes with such persons.
Concerning the other difficulty you mention relating to
the verifying of Rom. viii. 20. "All things shall work to
gether for good," &c. in a saint that falls under backsliding
and spiritual decays, &c. it seems to be a matter of some
difficulty to understand exactly how this is to be taken,
and how far it may from hence be inferred, that the tempt
ations the saints meet with from Satan, and an evil world,
and their own declensions and sins, shall surely work for
their good. However, since you desire my thoughts, I
would express them, such as they are, as follows.
In order rightly to state this matter, there are two things
may be laid down, as positions of certain and indubitable
truth concerning this doctrine of the apostle.
First, The meaning cannot Be that God's dispensations
and disposals towards each saint are the best for him, most
tending to his happiness, of all that are possible : or that
all things that are ordered for him, or done by God with
respect to him, are in all respects better for him than any
thing else that God could have ordered or done, issuing in
the highest good and happiness, that it is possible he
should be brought to ; for that would be as much as to
say, that God will bestow on every one of his elect, as
much happiness as he can (confer,) in the utmost exercise
of his omnipotence, and this sets aside all these different
degrees of grace and holiness here, and glory hereafter,
which he bestows according to his sovereign pleasure.
AU things may work together for good to the saints.
All may be of benefit to them, and may have a concurring
tendency to their happiness, and may all finally issue in
it, and yet not tend to or issue in the highest degree of
good and happiness possible. There is a certain measure
of holiness and happiness, that each one of the elect is
eternally appointed to, and all things that relate to him
work together to bring to pass this appointed measure of
good. The text and context speak of God's eternal pur
pose of good to the elect, predestinating them to a con
formity to his Son in holiness and happiness ; and the im
plicit reasoning of the apostle leads us to suppose that all
things will purely concur to bring to effect God's eternal
purpose. And therefore from his reasoning it may be in
ferred, that all things will tend to and work together to
bring to pass, that degree of good that God has purposed
to bestow upon them, and not any more. And indeed it
would be in itself unreasonable to suppose any thing else
but this ; inasmuch as God is the supreme orderer of all
things, doubtless all things shall be so ordered, that with
one consent, they shall help to bring to pass his ends, aims,
and purposes ; but surely not to bring to pass what he does
not aim at, and never intended. God in his government
of the world is carrying on his own designs in every thing ;

but he is not carrying on that which is not his design, and
therefore there is no need of supposing, that all the cir
cumstances, means, and advantages of every saint, are the
best in every respect that God could have ordered for him,
or that there could have been no circumstances or means
that he could have been the subject of, that would with
God's usual blessing have issued in his greater good. Every
saint is as it were a living stone, that in this present state
of preparation, is fitting for the place appointed for him in
the heavenly temple. And in this sense all things un
doubtedly work together for good to every one that is call
ed according to God's purpose. He is, all the while he
lives in this world, bv all the dispensations of Providence
towards him, fitting for the particular mansion in glory,
that is appointed and prepared for him, or hewing for his
appointed place in the heavenly building.
Secondly, Another thing which is no less certain and de
monstrable than the position that has been already laid
down, and indeed follows from it, is this, When it is said,
" all things work together for good," &c. hereby cannot be
intended that all things, both positive and negative,are best
for them, or that it is so universally, that not only every
'positive thing that the saints are the subjects of, or are con
cerned in, will work for their good, but also that when any
thing is absent or withheld from them by God in his pro
vidence, that absence or withholding is also for their good
in that sense, or to be better for them than the presence or
bestowment would have been; for this would have the
same absurd consequence that was mentioned before, viz.
That God makes every saint as happy as possibly he can.
And besides, if so, it would follow that God's withhold
ing greater degrees of the sanctifying influences of his
Spirit is for the saints' good, and that it is best for them to
live and die so low in grace as they do, which would be
as much as to say that it is for their good to have no more
good, or that it is for their happiness to have no more hap
piness here and hereafter. If we take good notice of the.
apostle's discourse in Rom. viii. it will be apparent that
his words imply no such thing. All God's creatures, and
all that God does in disposing of them, is for the good of
the saint. But it will not thence follow, that all God's
forbearing to do is also for his good, or that it is best for
him that God does no more for him.
Therefore, the following things I humbly conceive to be
the tru th, concerning the sins and temptations ofthe saints
being for their good.
1 . That all things whatsoever are for the good of the
saints, things negative as well as positive, in this sense,
that God intends that some benefit to them shall arise from
every thing, so that something of the grace and love of
God will hereafter be seen to have been exercised towards
them in every thing. At the same time, the sovereignty
of God will also be seen, with regard to the measure of
the good or benefit aimed at, in that some other things, if
God had seen cause to order them, would have produced
a higher benefit. And with regard to negative disposals,
consisting not in God's doing, but forbearing to do, not in
giving, but withholding, some benefit in some respect or
other, will ever accrue to the saints, even from these ;
though sometimes the benefit will not be equal to the
benefit withheld, if it had been bestowed. As for instance,
when a saint lives and dies comparatively low in grace.
There is some good improvement shall be made, even of
this, in the eternal state ofthe saint, whereby he shall receive
a real benefit, though the benefit shall not be equal to the be
nefit of a higher degree of holiness, if God had bestowed it.
2. God carries on a design of love to his people, and to
each individual saint, not only in all things that they are
the subjects of while they live, but also in all his works
and disposals, and in all his acts from eternity to eternity.
3. That the sin, in general, of the saints, is for their
good, and for the best in this respect, viz. that it is a thing
that, through the sovereign grace of God, and his infinite
wisdom, will issue in a high advancement of their eternal
happiness, that they have been sinful, fallen creatures, and
not from the beginning perfectly innocent and holy, as the
elect angels ; and that they shall obtain some additional
good on occasion of all the sin they have been the subjects
of, or have committed, beyond what they would have had,
if they never had been fallen creatures.

Appendix.

LETTER I. TO MR. GILLESPIE.

33a

4. The sin of the saints in this sense cannot be for their
good, that it should finally be best for them, that while
they lived in this world, their restoration and recovery
from the corruption they became subject to by the fall, was
no greater, the mortification of sin, and spiritual vivification
of their soul, carried on to no greater degree, that they re
mained so deficient, as to love to God, christian love to
men, humility, heavenly-mindedness, and that they were
so barren, and did so few good works, and consequently,
that in general, they had so much sin, and of the exercises
of it, and not more holiness, and of the exercises and fruits
of that, for in proportion as one of these is more, the other
will be less, as infallibly as darkness is more or less in
proportion to the diminution or increase of light. It can
not finally be better for the saints, that in general, while
they live, thev had so much sin of heart and life, rather
than more holiness of heart and life. Because the reward
of all at last will be according to their works, and he
that sowed sparingly shall reap sparingly, and he that
sowed bountifully shall reap bountifully, and he that
builds wood, hay, and stubble, shall finally suffer loss, and
have a less reward, than if he bad built gold, silver, and
precious stones though he himself shall be saved. But
notwithstanding this,
5. The sins and falls of the saints may be for their good,
and for the better, in this respect, that the issue may be
better than if the temptation had not happened, and so the
occasion not given, either for the sin of yielding to the
temptation, or the virtue of overcoming it : and yet not
in the respect (with regard to their sins or falls in general)
that it should be better for them in the issue, that they have
yielded to the temptation offered, than if they had over
come. For the fewer victories they obtain over tempta
tion, the fewer are their good works, and particularly of
that kind of good works to which a distinguished reward is
promised in Rev. ii. and iii. and in many other parts of
Scripture. The word of God represents the work of a
Christian in this world as a warfare, and it is evident in the
Scripture that he who acquits himself as the best soldier
shall win the greatest prize. Therefore, when the saints
are brought into backslidings and decays, by being over
come by temptations, the issue of their backslidings may
be some good to them. They may receive some benefit
by occasion of it, beyond what they would have received
if that temptation had never prevailed, and yet their back
slidings in general may be a great loss to them in the fol
lowing respect, viz. That they shall have much less reward,
than if the temptations had been overcome, and they not
withstanding had persevered in spiritual vigour and dili
gence. But yet this don't hinder, but that,
6. It may be so ordered by a sovereign and all-wise God,
that the saints' falls and backslidings, through their being
overcome by temptations in some particular instances,
may prove best for them, not only in that the issue may be
greater good to them, than they would have received if the
temptation had not happened, but even greater in that in
stance, than if the temptation had been overcome. It may
be so ordered that their being overcome by that temptation,
shall be the occasion of their having greater strength, and
on the whole, obtaining more and greater victories, than if
they had not fallen in that instance. But this is no where
promised, norcan it be so, that, in the general,it should prove
better for them that they were foiled so much, and over
come so little, in the course of their lives, and that finally
their decay is so great, or their progress so small. From
these things it appears,
7. That the saying of the apostle, all things work to
gether for good to them that love God, though it be fulfilled
m some respects to all saints, and at all times, and in all
circumstances, yet it is fulfilled more especially and emi
nently to the saints continuing in the exercise of love to God,
not falling from the exercises, or failing in the fruits, of
divine love in times of trial. Then it is, that temptations,
enemies, and suffering, will be best for them, working that
which is most for their good every way, and they shall be
more than conquerors over tribulation, distress, persecu
tion, famine, nakedness, peril, and sword, Rom. viii.
35—37. 8. As God is carrying on a design of love to each in
dividual saint, in all his works and disposals whatsoever,
z 2

as was observed before, so the particular design of love to
them that he is carrying on, is to fit them for, and bring
them to, their appointed place in the heavenly temple, or to
that individual, precise happiness and glory in heaven, that
his eternal love designed for them, and no other (for God's
design of love or of happiness to them, is only just what
it is, and is not different from itself). And to fulfil this
particular design of love, every thing that God does, or in
any respect disposes, whether it be positive, privative, or
negative, contributes, because doubtless every thing that
God does, or in any respect offers, tends to fulfil his aims
and designs. Therefore, undoubtedly,
9. All the while the saint lives in the world, he is fitting
for his appointed mansion in glory, and hewing for his
place in the heavenly building. And all his temptations,
though they may occasion, for the present, great spiritual.
wounds, yet at last, they shall be an occasion of his being
more fitted for his place in glory. And therefore we may
determine, that however the true saint may die, in some re
spects, under decays, under the decay of comfort, and of
the exercise of some religious affections, yet every saint
dies at that time when his habitual fitness for his place in
the heavenly temple is most complete, because otherwise,
all things that happen to him while he lives, would not
work together to fit him for that place.
10. God brings his saints at the end of their lives to
this greatest fitness for their place in heaven, not by
diminishing grace in their hearts, but by increasing it, and
carrying on the work of grace in their souls. If it be not
so, that cannot be true, that where God has begun a good
work he will perform it, or carry it on to the day of Christ,
for if they die with a less degree of grace than they had
before, then it ceases to be carried on before the day of
Christ comes. If grace is finally diminished, then Satan
so far finally obtains the victory. He finally prevails to
diminish the fire in the smoking flax, and then how is that
promise verified, that God will not quench the smoking flax,
till he bring forth judgment unto victory ? So that it must
needs be, that although saints may die under decay in
some respects, yet they never die under a real habitual de
cay of the work of grace in general. If they fall, they shall
rise again before they die, and rise higher than before, if not
in joy, and some other affections, yet in greater degrees of
spiritual knowledge, self-emptiness, trust in God, and
solidity and ripeness of grace.
If these things that have been observed are true, then we
may infer from them these corollaries.
1st, That notwithstanding the truth of that saying of
the apostle, Rom. viii. 28. the saints have cause to iament
their leanness and barrenness, and that they are guilty of
so much sin, not only as it is to the dishonour of God, but
also as that which is like to be to their own eternal loss and
damage. Idly, That nothing can be inferred from the foremention
ed promise tending to set aside, or make void, the influence
of motives to earnest endeavours to avoid all sin, to increase
in holiness, and abound in good works, from an aim at a
high and eminent degree of glory and happiness in the
future world.
3dly, That though it is to the eternal damage of the
saints, ordinarily, when they yield to, and are overcome by
temptations, yet Satan and other enemies of the saints by
whom these temptations come, are always wholly disap
pointed in their temptation, and baffled in their design to
hurt 'the saints, inasmuch as the temptation and the sin
that comes by it, is for the saints' good, and they receive a
greater benefit in the issue, than if the temptation had not
been, and yet less than if the temptation had been over
come. As to Mr. Boston's View of the Covenant of Grace, I
have had some opportunity with it, and I confess I did
not understand his scheme delivered in that book. I have
read his Fourfold State of Man, and liked it exceeding
well. I think he herein shows himself to be a truly great
divine. Hoping that you will accept my letter with candour, and
remember me in your prayers, I subscribe myself
Your affectionate and obliged Brother
and Servant,
JONATHAN EDWARDS.

3-10

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

LETTER II.

TO MR. GILLESPIE. IN ANSWER TO OBJECTIONS.

Rev. and Dear Sir,

Northampton, April 2, 1750.

I received your favour of September 19, 1748, the last
-summer, and would now heartily thank you for it. I sup
pose it might come in the same ship with letters I had
from my other correspondents in Scotland, which I answer
ed the last summer ; but it did not come to hand till a long
time after most of the others, and after I had finished and
sent away my answers to them, and that opportunity for
answering was past. I have had no leisure or opportunity
to write any letters to Scotland from that time till now, by
reason of my peculiar and very extraordinary circumstances,
on account of the controversy that has arisen between me
and my people, concerning the profession that ought to be
made by persons that come to christian sacraments, which
is likely speedily to issue in a separation between me and
my congregation. This controversy, in the progress of it,
has proved not only a controversy between me and my
people, but between me and a great part of New Eng
land; there being many far and near toat are warmly
engaged in it. This affair has unavoidably engaged my
mind, and filled up my time, and taken me off from other
things. I need the prayers of my friends, toat God would
be with me, and direct and assist me in such a time of
trial, and mercifully order the issue.
As to the epistolary controversy, dear Sir, between you
and me, about faith and doubting, I am sorry it should
seem to be greater than it is, through misunderstanding of
one another's meaning, and that the real difference be
tween us is so great as it is, in some part of the contro
versy. As to the dispute about believing without spiritual light
or sight, I thought I expressed my meaning in my last
letter very plainly, but I kept no copy, and it might per
haps be owing to my dulness that 1 thought so. How
ever, I perceive I was not understood. I cannot find out
by any thing you say to me on this head, that we really
differ in sentiments, but only'in words. I acknowledge
with you that " all are bound to believe the divine testi
mony, and trust in Christ ; and that want of spiritual light
or sight does not loose from the obligation one is laid
under by the divine command, to believe instantly on
Christ, at all seasons, nor excuse him, in any degree, for
not believing. Even when one wants the influence and
grace of the Spirit, still he is bound to believe. Ability is
not toe rule of duty." I think the obligation to believe,
lies on a person who is remaining without spiritual light
or sight, or even in darkness. No darkness, no blindness,
no carnality or stupidity, excuses him a moment from
having as strong and lively faith and love as ever was
exercised by the apostle Paul, or rather renders it not
sinful in him that he is at that same moment without such
a faith and love ; — and yet I believe it is absurd, and of
very hurtful consequence, to urge persons to believe in
the dark, in the manner and in the sense in which many
hundreds have done in America, who plainly intend, a
believing strongly with such a sort of strong faith or great
confidence as is consistent with continuing still, even in
the time of these strong acts of faith, without spiritual
light; carnal, stupid, careless, and senseless. Their doc
trine evidently comes to this, both in sense and effect,
that it is a mere duty strongly to believe with a lightless
and sightless faith, or to have a confident, although a blind,
dark, and stupid faith. And such a faith has indeed been
promoted exceedingly by their doctrine, and has prevailed
with its dreadful effects, answerable to the nature of the
cause. We have had, and have to this day, multitudes of
such strong believers, whose bold, proud, and stupid
confidence, attended with a very wicked behaviour, has
given the greatest wound to the cause of truth and vital
religion that ever it suffered in America.
As to what follows in your letter, concerning a person's
believing himself to be in a good state, and its being
properly of the nature of faith : in this there seems to be

some real difference between us. But, perhaps, there
would be none, if distinctness were well observed in the
use of words. If by a man's believing that he is in a good
estate, be meant no more than his believing that he does
believe in Christ, does love God, he. I think there is
nothing of the nature of faith in it; because knowing
it, or believing it, depends on our own immediate sensa
tion or consciousness, and not on divine testimony. True
believers, in the hope they entertain of salvation, make
use of the following syllogism, whosoever believes shall be
saved : I believe, therefore, &c. Assenting to the major
proposition is properly of the nature of faith, because the
ground of my assent to that is divine testimony ; but my
assent to toe minor proposition, I humbly conceive, is not
of the nature of faith, because that is not grounded on
divine testimony, but my own consciousness. The testi
mony that is the proper ground of faith is in the word of
God, Rom. x. 17. " Faith cometh by hearing, aud hear
ing by the word of God." There is such a testimony
given us in the word of God, that " He that believeth
shall be saved." But there is no such testimony in toe
word of God, as that such an individual person in such a
town in Scot/and or New England, believes. There is
such a proposition in the Scripture, as that Christ loves
those that love him, and therefore, this every one is bound
to believe, and affirm : believing this on divine testimony
is properly of the nature of faith, and for any one to doubt
of it, is properly of toe heinous sin of unbelief. But there
is no such proposition in the Scripture, nor is it any part
of the gospel of Christ, that such an individual person in
Northampton loves Christ. If I know that I have com
placence in Christ, I know it toe same way toat I know I
have complacence in my wife and children, viz. by the
testimony of my own heart or inward consciousness.
Evangelical faith has toe gospel of Christ for its founda
tion ; but toat I love Christ is a proposition not contained
in the gospel of Christ.
And therefore, that we may not dispute in toe dark, it is
necessary, that we should explain what we mean by a
person's believing he is in a good estate. If thereby we
mean only believing toe minor of the foregoing syllogism,
or such like syllogisms, I believe or I love God, it is not
in the nature of faith. But if by a man's believing him
self to be in a good estate, be understood his believing not
only the minor, but the consequence, therefore I shall be
saved, or therefore God will never leave me nor forsake me ;
then a man's believing his good estate, partakes of the
nature of faith ; for these consequences depend on divine
testimony in the word of God and the gospel of Jesus
Christ. Yea, I would observe farther, that a man's
judging of the faith or love he finds in himself, whetoer
they are that sort of faith and love which he finds to be
saving, may depend on his reliance on scripture rules and
marks which are divine testimonies, which he may be
tempted not to rely upon, from the consideration of his
great unworthiness. But his judging that he has those
individual inward acts of understanding, and exercises of
heart, depends on inward sensations, and not on anv
testimony of the word of God. The knowing present
acts depends on immediate consciousness, and the know
ing past acts depends on memory. And therefore the
fulness of my satisfaction, that I now have such an
inward act or exercise of mind, depends on the strength of
sensation ; and my satisfaction, that I have had them
heretofore, depends on the clearness of my memory, and
not on the strength of my reliance on any divine testi
mony ; and so my doubting whether I have, or have had,
such individual inward acts, is not of the nature of un
belief, though it may arise from unbelief indirectly;
because, if I had had more faith, the actings of it would
have been more sensible, and the memory of them more
clear, and so I should have been better satisfied that I
had them.
God seems to have given Abraham's servant a revela
tion, that the damsel in whom he found such marks, viz.
coming to draw water with a pitcher to that well, her
readiness to give him and his camels drink, &c. should be
Isaac's wife, and therefore his assenting to this was of the
nature of faith, having divine testimony for its foundation.
But his believing thai Rebekah was the damsel that had

Appendix.

LETTER II. TO MR. GILLESPIE.

341

these individual marks, his knowing that she came to
draw water, and that she let down her pitcher, &c. was
not of toe nature of faith. His knowing this was not
from divine testimony, but from the testimony of his own
senses. (Vide Gen. xxiv.)
You speak of " a saint s doubting of his good estate as
a part of unbelief, and the opposite of faith, considered in
its full compass and latitude, as one branch of unbelief,
one ingredient in unbelief; and of assurance of a man's
good estate, as one thing that belongs to the exercise of
faith." I do not know whetoer I take your meaning in
these expressions. If you mean, that a person's believing
himself to be in a good estate is one thing that appertains
to the essence of saving faith, or that saving faith, in all
that belongs to its essence, yea its perfection, cannot be
without implying it, I must humbly ask leave to differ
from you. That a believing that I am in a good estate, is
no part or ingredient in the essence of saving faith, is
evident by this, that the essence of saving faith must be
complete in me, before it can be true that I am in a good
estate. If I have not as yet acted faith, yea if there be any
thing wanting in me to make up the essence of saving
faith, then I am not as yet in a state of salvation, and
therefore can have no ground to believe that I am so.
Any thing that belongs to the essence of saving faith is
prior, in the order of nature, to a man's being in a [believ
ing] state of salvation, because it is saving faith that brings
him into such a state. And therefore believing that he is
in such a state cannot be one thing that is essential or ne
cessary in order to his being in such a state ; for toat
would imply a contradiction. It would be to suppose a
man's believing that he is in a good estate to be prior, in
the order of nature, to his being in a good estate. But a
thing cannot be both prior and posterior, antecedent and
consequent, with respect to the very same thing. The real
truth of a proposition is in the order of nature first, before
its being believed to be true. But till a man has already
all that belongs to the essence of saving faith, that propo
sition, that he is in a good [believing] estate, is not as yet
true. All the propositions contained in the gospel, all di
vine testimonies that we have in God's word, are true
already, are already laid for a foundation for faith, and
were laid long ago. But that proposition, I am in a good
estate, not being one of them, is not true till I have first
believed ; and therefore this proposition cannot be believed
to be true, till saving faith be first complete. Therefore
the completeness of the act of saving faith will not make
it take in a belief of this proposition, nor will the strength
or perfection of the act cause it to imply this. If a man,
in his first act of faith, has ever so great a conviction of
God's sufficiency and faithfulness, and let his reliance on
the divine testimony be ever so strong and perfect, all will
have no tendency to make him believe this proposition, J
am in a good estate, to be true, till it be true, which it is
not till the first act of faith is complete, and has made it
true. A belief of divine testimony in the first act of faith,
may be to any assignable degree of strength and perfection,
without believing that proposition, for there is no such di
vine testimony then extant, nor is there any such truth ex
tant, but in consequence ofthe first act of faith. Therefore,
(as I said) saving faith may be, with all toat belongs to its
essence, and that in the highest perfection, without im
plying a belief of my own good estate. I do not say it can
be without having this immediate effect. But it is rather
the effect of faith, than a part, branch, or ingredient of faith.
And so I do not dispute whether a man's doubting of his
good state may be a consequence of unbelief, (I doubt not
but it is in those who are in a good state,) because, if men
had the exercise of faith in such a degree as they ought to
have, it could not but be very sensible and plain that they
had it. But yet I think this doubting of a good state is
entirely a different thing from the sin of unbelief itself, and
has nothing of the nature of unbelief in it, i. e. if we take
doubting one's good state in the sense in which I have be
fore explained it, viz. for doubting whether I have such
individual principles and acts in my soul. Take it in a
complex sense, and it may have the sin of unbelief in it ;
e. g. If, although I doubt not that I have such and such
qualifications, I yet doubt of those consequences, for which
I have divine testimony or ' promise ; as when a person

doubts not that he loves Christ, yet doubts whether he
shall receive a crown of life. The doubting of this conse
quence is properly the sin of unbelief.
You say, dear Sir, " The Holy Ghost requires us to be
lieve the reality of his work in us in all its parts just
as it is ;" and, a little before, " The believer's doubting
whether or not he has faith, is sinful ; because it is bely
ing the Holy Ghost, denying his work in him, so there is
no sin to which that doubting can so properly be reduced
as unbelief."
Here I would ask leave thus to express my thoughts
in a diversity from yours. I think, if it be allowed
to be sinful for a believer to doubt whether he has
faith, that this doubting is not the sin of unbelief
on any such account as you mention, viz. as belying or
denying any testimony of the Holy Ghost. There is
a difference between doubting of the being of some work
of the Holy Ghost, and denying the testimony of the
Holy Ghost, as there is a difference between doubting
concerning some other works of God, and denying toe
testimony of God. It is the work of God to give a man
great natural abilities ; and if we suppose God requires
such a man to believe the reality of his work in all its
parts just as it is, and so that it is sinful for him at all to
doubt of his natural abilities being just as good as thev
are, yet this is no belying any testimony of God, though
it be doubting of a work of God, and so is diverse from
the sin of unbelief. So, if we suppose a very eminent
saint is to blame in doubting whether he has so much
grace as he really has; he indeed does not believe the
reality of God's work in him, in all its parts, just
as it is, yet he is not therein guilty of the sin of unbe
lief, against any testimony of God, any more than the
other. I acknowledge, that for a true saint in a carnal and
careless frame, to doubt of his good state, is sinful, more
indirectly, as the cause of it is sinful, viz. the lowness
and insensibility of the actings of grace in him, and the
prevalence of carnality and stupidity. 'Tis sinful to be
without assurance, or, (as we say,) it is his own fault, he
sinfully deprives himself of it ; or foregoes it, as a servant's
being without his tools is his sin, when he has carelessly
lost them, or as it is his sin to be without strength of
body, or without the sight of his eyes, when he has de
prived himself of these by intemperance. Not that weak
ness or blindness of body, in their own nature, are sin, for
they are qualities of the body, and not of mind, the sub
ject in which sin is inherent. It is indirectly the duty of a
true saint always to rejoice in the light of God's counte
nance, because sin is the cause of his being without this
joy at any time, and therefore it was indirectly David's sin
that he was not rejoicing in the light of God's countenance,
at the very time when he was committing the great ini
quities of adultery and murder. But yet it is not directly
a believer's duty to rejoice in the light of God's counte
nance, when God hides his face. But it rather then be
comes him to be troubled and to mourn. So there are per
haps many other privileges of saints that are their duty
indirectly, and the want of them is sinful, not simply, but
complexly considered. Of this kind I take the want of
assurance of my good estate to be.
I think no words of mine, either in my book or letter,
implied that a person's deliverance from a bad frame does
not begin with renewed acts of faith or trusting in God. If
they did, they implied what I never intended. Doubtless
if a saint comes out of an ill frame, wherein grace is asleep
and inactive, it must be by renewed actings of grace. It is
very plainly impossible, that grace should begin to cease
to be inactive, in any other way, than by its beginning to
be active. It must begin with the renewed actings of some
grace or other, and I know nothing that I have said to the
contrary, but that the grace that shall first begin sensibly to
revive shall be faith, and that this shall lead the way to the
renewed acting of all other graces, and to the farther act
ing of faith itself. But a person's coming out of. a carnal,
careless, dead frame, by, or in the reviving of grace in his
soul, is quite another thing from a saint's having a strong
exercise of faith, or strong hope, or strong exercise of any
other grace, while yet remaining in a carnal, careless, dead
frame ; or, in other words, in a frame wherein grace is so-

342

ON RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS.

far from being in strong exercise, that it is asleep, and in a
great measure without exercise.
There is a holy hope, a truly christian hope, that the
Scripture speaks of, that is reckoned among the graces of
the Spirit : and I think I should never desire or seek any
other hope ; for I believe no other hope has any holy or
good tendency. Therefore this hope, this grace of hope
alone, can properly be called a duty. But it is justas ab
surd to talk of the exercise of this holy hope, the strong
exercise of this grace of the Spirit, in a carnal, stupid, care
less frame, such a frame yet remaining, as it would be to
talk of the strong exercises of love to God, or heavenly-
mindedness, or any other grace, remaining in such a frame.
It is doubtless proper, earnestly to exhort those who are in
such a frame to come out of it, in and by the strong exercises
of all grace ; but 1 should not think it proper to press a
man earnestly to maintain strong hope, notwithstanding the
prevailing and continuance of great carnality and stu
pidity (which is plainly the case ofthe people I opposed).
For this is plainly to press people to an unholy hope, a
strong hope that is no christian grace, but strong and wicked
presumption ; and the promoting of this has most evi
dently been the effect of such a method of dealing with
souls in innumerable multitudes of awful instances.
You seem, Sir, to suppose, that God's manner of deal
ing with his saints, while in a secure and careless frame, is
first to give assurance of their good state while they remain
in such a frame, and to make use of that assurance as a
mean to bring them out of such a frame. Here, again, I
must beg leave to differ from you, and to think, that none
of the instances or texts you adduce from Scripture, do at
all prove the point. I think it is God's manner, first to
awaken their consciences, and to bring them to reflect
upon themselves, and to bring them to feel their own
calamity which they have brought upon themselves by so
departing from God, (by which an end is put to their
carelessness and security,) and again earnestly and care
fully to seek God's face before they find him, and before
God restores the comfortable and joyful sense of his
favour ; and I think this is abundantly evident both by
Scripture and experience. You much insist on Jonah as a
clear instance of the thing you lay down. You observe
that he says, chap. ii. " I said, I am cast of thy sight, yet
will I look again towards thy holy temple." Ver. 5, 7.
" When my soul fainted within me ; I remembered the
Lord, and my prayer came in unto thee, even into thine
holy temple." You speak of these words as expressing
an assurance of his good state and of God's favour ; (I
will not now dispute whetoer they do or not ;) and you
speak of this exercise of assurance, &c. as his practice in
an evil frame, and in a careless frame ; for he slept securely
in the sides of the ship, manifesting dismal security, awful
carelessness in a carnal frame. That Jonah was in a care
less secure frame when he was asleep in the sides of the
ship, I do not deny. But, dear Sir, does that prove that
he remained still in a careless secure frame, when in his
heart he said these things in toe fish's belly, chap. ii. 4, 7. ?
does it prove that he remained careless after he was
awakened, and saw the furious storm, and owned it was
the fruit of God's anger towards him for his sins ? and
does it prove, that he still remained careless after the whale
had swallowed him, when he seemed to himself to be in
the belly of hell? when the water compassed him about, even
to the soul, and, as he says, all God s waters and billows
passed over him, and he was ready to despair when he went
down to the bottoms of the mountains, was ready to think
God had cast him out of his sight, and confined him in a
prison, that he could never escape, the earth with her bars
was about him, for ever, and his soul fainted within him.
He was brought into this condition after his sleeping
securely in the sides of toe ship, before he said, " I will
look again towards thine holy temple," &c. He was
evidently first awakened out of carelessness and security,
and brought into distress, before he was comforted.
The other place you also much insist on, concerning the
people of Israel, is very much like this. Before God
comforted them with the testimonies of his favour, after
their backslidings, he first, by severe chastisements, to-
* This is evident by many scriptures; as, Lev. x»vi. 40—42. Deut.
xxxii. 36-39. t Kings viii. 21, 22. chap. i. 4—8. Ezek. xx. 35, 36, 37. Hos. v.

gether with the awakening influences of his Spirit, brought
toem out of toeir carelessness and carnal security. It ap
pears by many scriptures, that this was God's way of
dealing with that people. So Hos. chap. ii. God first
" hedged up her ways with thorns, and made a wall that
she could not find Her paths. And took away her corn
and wine, and wool and flax, destroyed her vines and fig-
trees, and caused her mirth to cease ; ' and, by this means,
brought her to herself, brought her out of her security',
carelessness, and deep sleep, very much as the prodigal son
was brought to himself. God " brought her first into the
wilderness, before he spake comfortably to her, and opened
to her a door of hope. By her distress first brought her to
say, " I will go and return to my first husband ;" and
then, when God spake comfortably to her, she called hira
" Ishi, my husband ;" and God did as it were renewedly
betroth her unto him. That passage Hosea ii. is very
parallel with Jer. iii. One place serves well to illus
trate and explain the other, and that it was God's way of
dealing with his people Israel, after their apostacy and
carnal security, first to awaken them, and under a sense of
their sin and misery to bring toem solicitously to seek his
face, before he gave them sensible evidence of his favour ;
and not to awaken out of security, by first making mani
fest his favour to them.*
And, besides, I would observe, that in Jer. iii. the pro
phecy is not concerning the recovery of backsliding saints
or the mystical church, which, though she had corrupted
herself, still continued to be God's wife : it is concerning
apostate Israel, that had forsaken and renounced her
husband, and gone after other lovers, and whom God had
renounced, put away, and given her a bill of divorce, (ver.
8.) so that her recovery could not be by giving her as
surance of her good estate as still remaining his wife, and
that God was already married unto her, for that was not
true, and is not consistent with the context. And whereas
it is said, ver. 14. " Return, O backsliding children, saith
the Lord ; for I am married unto you, and I will take
you one of a city," &c. I am married, in the Hebrew, is
in the preterperfect tense ; but you know, Sir, that in toe
language of prophecy, the preter tense is very commonly
put for the future ; and whereas it is said, ver. 19. " How
shall I put thee among toe children ? And I said, Thou
shalt call me, My father." I acknowledge this expression
here, my Father, and toat Rom. viii. 15. is toe language of
faith. It is so two ways : 1st, It is such language of the
soul as is the immediate effect of a lively faith. I ac
knowledge, that the lively exercises of faith do naturally
produce satisfaction of a good state as their immediate
effect. 2nd, It is language which, in another sense, does
properly and naturally express the very act of faith itself,
yea, toe first act of faith in a sinner, before which he never
was in a good state. As thus, supposing a man in distress,
pursued by his enemies that sought his life, should have
toe gates of several fortresses set open before him, and
should be called to from each of them to fly thither for
refuge ; and viewing them all, and one appearing strong
and safe, but the rest insufficient, he should accept the in
vitation to that one, and fly thither, with this language,
" This is my fortress ; this is my refuge. In vain is sal
vation looked for from the other. Behold I come to thee ;
this is my sure defence." Not that he means that he is
already within the fortress, and so in a good estate. But
this is my chosen fortress, in the strength of which I trust,
and to which I betake myself for safety. So if a woman
were at once to be solicited by many lovers, to give herself
to toem in a married state, and beholding the superior ex
cellencies of one far above all toe rest, should betake her
self to him, with this language, " This is my husband,
behold I come unto thee, thou art my spouse." Not that
she means that she is already married to him, but that he
is her chosen husband, &c. Thus God offers himself to
sinners as their Saviour, God, and Father; and the lan
guage of the heart of him that accepts the offer by active
faith, is, "Thou art my Saviour; in vain is salvation
hoped for from others toat offer themselves. Thou art my
God and Father." Not. that he is already his child, but
he chooses him, and comes to him, toat he may be one of
15. with chap. vi. 1—3. chap. xiii. 9, 10, chap. xiv. throughout

Appendix.

LETTER II. TO MR. GILLESPIE.

343

his children; as in Jer. iii. 19. Israel calls God his
Father, as the way to be put among the children, and to be
one of them, and not as being one already ; and in ver.
21, 22, 23. she is not brought out of a careless and secure
state by knowing that toe Lord is her God, but she is first
brought to consideration and sense of her sin and misery,
weeping and supplications for mercy and conviction of the
vanity of other saviours and refuges, not only before she
has assurance of her good estate, but before she is brought
to fly to God for refuge, that she may be in a good
estate. As to the instance of Job, I would only say this : I think
while in his state of sore affliction, though he had some
great exercises of infirmity and impatience under his ex
treme trials, yet he was very far from being in such a frame
as I intended, when I spoke of a secure, careless, carnal
frame, &c. I doubt not, nor did I ever question it, that
the saints' hope and knowledge of their good state, is in
many cases of excellent benefit, to help toem against
temptation and the exercises of corruption.
With regard to the case of extraordinary temptation,
and buffeting of Satan, which you mention, I do not very
well know what to say further. I have often found my own
insufficiency as a counsellor in such like cases, wherein
melancholy and bodily distemper have so great a hand, and
give Satan so great advantage, as appears to me in the case
you mention. If the Lord do not help, whence should we
help ? If some christian friends of such afflicted and (as
it were) possessed persons, would, from time to time, pray
and fast for them, it might be a proper exercise of chris
tian charity, and the likeliest way I know for relief. I
kept no copy of my former letter to you, and so do not re
member fully what I have already said concerning this
case. But this I have often found with such melancholy
people, that the greatest difficulty does not lie in giving
them good advice, but in persuading them to take it. One
thing I think of great importance, which is, that such per
sons should go on in a steady course of performance of all
duties, both of their general and particular calling, with
out suffering themselves to be diverted from it by any vio
lence of Satan, or specious pretence of his whatsoever,
properly ordering, proportioning, and timing all sorts of
duties, duties to God, public, private, and secret, and du
ties to man, relative duties, of business and conversation,
family duties, duties of friendship and good neighbourhood,
duly proportioning labour and rest, intentness and relaxa
tion, without suffering one duty to crowd out or intrench
upon another. If such persons could be persuaded to
this, I think, in this way, they would be best guarded
against the devil, and he would soonest be discouraged,
and a good state of body would be most likely to be
gained, and persons would act most as if they trusted and

rested in God, and would be most in the way of his help
and blessing.
With regard to what you write concerning immediate
revelations, I have thought of it, and I find I cannot say
any thing to purpose, without drawing out this letter to a
very extraordinary length, and I am already got to such
length, that I had need to ask your excuse. I have writ
ten enough to tire your patience.
It has indeed been with great difficulty that I have
found time to write much. If you knew my extraordinary
circumstances, I doubt not, you would excuse my not
writing any more. I acknowledge the subject you men
tion is very important. Probably if God spares my life,
and gives me opportunity, I may write largely upon it.
I know not how Providence will dispose of me, I am
going to be cast on the wide world, with my large family
of ten children. — I humbly request your prayers for me
under my difficulties and trials.
As to the state of religion in this place and this land,
it is at present very sorrowful and dark. But I must, for
a more particular account of things, refer you to my letter
to Mr. M'Lauren, of Glasgow, and Mr. Robe. So, asking
a remembrance in your prayers, I must conclude, by sub
scribing myself, with much esteem and respect,
Your obliged Brother and Servant,
JONATHAN EDWARDS.
P. S. July 3, 1750. Having had no leisure to finish the
preparation 'of my letters to Scotland before this time, by
reason ofthe extraordinary troubles, hurries, and confusions
of my unusual circumstances, I can now inform you, that
the controversy between me and my people, that I men
tioned in the beginning of my letter, has issued in a se
paration. An ecclesiastical council was called on the
affair, who sat here the week before last, who, by a ma
jority of one voice, determined an immediate separation to
'be necessary ; and accordingly my pastoral relation to my
people was'dissolved on June 22. If I can procure the
printed accounts from Boston of the proceedings of the
council, I will give order to my friend there to enclose
them with this letter, and direct them to you. — I desire
your prayers, that I may take a suitable notice of the frowns
of Heaven on me and this people, (between whom was once
so great an union,) in bringing to pass such a separation
between us ; and that these troubles may be sanctified to
me, that God would overrule this event for his own glory,
(which doubtless many adversaries will rejoice and tri
umph in,) that God would open a door for my future use
fulness, and provide for me and my numerous family, and
take a fatherly care of us in our present unsettled, uncer
tain circumstances, being cast on the wide world. J. E.

FAITHFUL NARRATIVE
OP THE
SURPRISING WORK OF GOD,
IN THE
CONVERSION OF MANY HUNDRED SOULS,
IN NORTHAMPTON,
ANO THE
NEIGHBOURING TOWNS AND VILLAGES OF NEW HAMPSHIRE, IN NEW ENGLAND ;
IN A
LETTER TO THE REV. DR. COLMAN, OF BOSTON.

PREFACE
BY THE FIRST EDITORS, DR. ISAAC WATTS, AND DR. JOHN GUYSE.
The friendly correspondence which we maintain with our brethren of New England, gives us now and then toe
pleasure of hearing some remarkable instances of divine grace in toe conversion of sinners, and some eminent exam
ples of piety in that American part of the world. But never did we hear or read, since the first ages of Christianity,
any event of this kind so surprising as the present Narrative hath set before us. The Rev. and worthv Dr. Colman, of
Boston, had given us some short intimations of it in his letters ; and upon our request of a more large and particular
account, Mr. Edwards, the happy and successful minister of Northampton, which was one of toe chief scenes of these
wonders, drew up this history in an epistle to Dr. Colman.
There were some useful sermons of toe venerable and aged Mr. Wm. Williams, published late in New England,
which were preached in that part of the country during this season of the glorious work of God in toe conversion of
men ; to which Dr. Colman subjoined a most judicious and accurate abridgment of this epistle : and a little after, by
Mr. Edwards's request, he sent the original to our hands, to be communicated to the world under our care here in
London. We are abundantly satisfied of the truth of this narrative, not only from the pious character of the writer, but from
the concurrent testimony of many other persons in New England ; for this thing was not done in a corner. There is a
spot of ground, as we are here informed, wherein there are twelve' or fourteen towns and villages, chiefly situate in
New Hampshire, near the banks of the river of Connecticut, within toe compass of thirty miles, wherein it pleased God,
two years ago, to display his free and sovereign mercy in the conversion of a great multitude of souls in a short space
of time, turning them from a formal, cold, and careless profession of Christianity, to the lively exercise of every chris
tian grace, and the powerful practice of our holy religion. The great God has seemed to act over again the miracle of
Gideon's fleece, which was plentifully watered with the dew of heaven, while the rest of the earth round about it was
dry, and had no such remarkable blessing.
There has been a great and just complaint for many years among the ministers and churches in Old England, and
in New, (except about the time of the late earthquake there,) that the work of conversion goes on very slowly, that the
Spirit of God in his saving influences is much withdrawn from the ministrations of his word, and there are few that
leceive the report of the gospel, with any eminent success upon their hearts. But as the gospel is the same divine in
strument of grace still, as ever it was in the days of the apostles, so our ascended Saviour now and then takes a special
occasion to manifest the divinity of this gospel by a plentiful effusion of his Spirit where it is preached : then sinners
are turned into saints in numbers, and there is a new face of things spread over a town or a country. The wilderness
and the solitary places are glad, the desert rejoices and blossoms as the rose ; and surely concerning this instance we may
add, that they have, seen the glory of the Lord there, and the excellency of our God ; they have seen the out-goings of
God our King in his sanctuary.
Certainly it becomes us, who profess the religion of Christ, to take notice of such astonishing exercises of his power
and mercy, and give him the glory which is due, when he begins to accomplish any of his promises concerning the
latter days : and it gives us further encouragement to pray, and wait, and hope for the like display of his power m the
midst of us. The hand of God is not shortened that it cannot save, but we have reason to fear that our iniquities, our
coldness in religion, and the general carnality of our spirits, have raised a wall of separation between God and us : and we
may add, the pride and perverse humour of infidelity, degeneracy, and apostacy from the christian faith, which have of

PREFACE. 345
late years broken out amongst us, seem to have provoked the Spirit of Christ to absent himself much from our nation.
" Return, O Lord, and visit thy churches, and revive thine own work in the midst of us."
From such blessed instances of the success of the gospel, as appear in this narrative, we may learn much of the
way of toe Spirit of God in his dealing with the souls of men, in order to convince sinners, and restore them to his
favour and his image by. Jesus Christ, his Son. We acknowledge that some particular appearances in the work of con
version among men may be occasioned by the ministry which they sit under, whether it be of a more or less evangelical
strain, whether it be more severe and affrighting, or more gentle and persuasive. But wheresoever God works with
power for salvation upon the minds of men, there will be some discoveries of a sense of sin, of the danger . of the
wrath of God, and the all-sufficiency of his Son Jesus, to relieve us under all our spiritual wants and distresses, and
a hearty consent of soul to receive him in the various offices of grace, wherein he is set forth in the Holy Scriptures. And
if our readers had opportunity (as we have had) to peruse several of the sermons which were preached during this glori
ous season, we should find that it is the common plain protestant doctrine of the Reformation, without stretching towards
the antinomians on the one side, or the Arminians on the other, that the Spirit of God has been pleased to honour with
such illustrious success.
We are taught also by this happy event, how easy it will be for our blessed Lord to make a full accomplishment of
all his predictions concerning his kingdom, and to spread his dominion from sea to sea, through all toe nations of the
earth. We see how easy it is for him with one turn of his hand, with one word of his mouth, to awaken whole coun
tries of stupid and sleeping sinners, and kindle divine life in their souls. The heavenly influence shall run from door
to door, filling the hearts and lips of every inhabitant with importunate inquiries, What shall we do to be saved ? And how
shall we escape the wrath to come ? And the name of Christ the Saviour shall diffuse itself like a rich and vital per
fume to multitudes that were ready to sink and perish under the painful sense of their own guilt and danger. Salvation
shall spread through all the tribes and ranks of mankind, as the lightning from heaven in a few moments would com
municate a living flame through ten thousand lamps and torches placed in a proper situation and neighbourhood. Thus
a nation shall be born in a day when our Redeemer please, and his faithful and obedient subjects shall become as
numerous as the spires of grass in a meadow newly mown, and refreshed with the showers of heaven. But the plea
sure of this agreeable hint bears the mind away from our theme.
Let us return to the present narrative : It is worthy of our observation, toat this great and surprising work does not
seem to have taken its rise from any sudden and distressing calamity of public terror that might universally impress the
minds of a people : here was no storm, no earthquake, no inundation of water, no desolation by fire, no pestilence or
any other sweeping distemper, nor any cruel invasion by their Indian neighbours, that might force toe inhabitants into
a serious thoughtfulness, and a religious temper, by the fears of approaching death and judgment. Such scenes as these
have sometimes been made happily effectual to awaken sinners in Zion, and the formal professor and the hypocrite have
been terrified with the thoughts of divine wrath breaking in upon them, Who shall dwell with everlasting burnings ?
But in the present case the immediate hand of God in the work of his Spirit appears much more evident, because
there is no such awful and threatening Providence attending it.
It is worthy also of our further notice, that when many profane sinners, and formal professors of religion, have been
affrighted out of their present carelessness and stupidity by some astonishing terrors approaching them, those religions
appearances have not been so durable, nor the real change of heart so thoroughly effected ; many of this sort of sudden
converts have dropped their religious concerns in a great measure when their fears of the threatening calamity were
vanished. But it is a blessed confirmation of the truth of this present work of grace, toat the persons who were divinely
wrought upon in this season continue still to profess serious religion, and to practise it without returning to their former
follies. It may not be amiss in this place to take notice, that a very surprising and threatening Providence has this last year
attended the people of Northampton, among whom this work of divine grace was so remarkable : which Providence
at first might have been construed by the unthinking world to be a signal token of God's displeasure against that town,
or a judgment from heaven upon the people ; but soon afterwards, like Paul's shaking the viper off from his hand, it
discovered the astonishing care and goodness of God expressed towards a place where such a multitude of young con
verts were assembled : nor can we give a better account of it than in the language of this very gentleman, the Rev. Mr.
Edwards, minister of that town, who wrote the following Letter, which was published in New England.
Northampton, March 19, 1737.
" We in this town, were the last Lord's Day the spectators, and many of us the subjects, of one of the most amaz
ing instances of divine preservation, that perhaps was ever known in toe land. Our meeting-house is old and decayed,
so that we have been for some time building a new one, which is yet unfinished. It has been observed of late, that the
house we have hitherto met in, has gradually spread at bottom ; the cells and walls giving way, especially in the fore-
side, by reason of the weight of timber at top, pressing on the braces that are inserted into the posts and beams of the
"house. It has done so more than ordinarily this spring ; which seems to have been occasioned by the heaving of the
ground through the extreme frosts of the winter past, and its now settling again on that side which is next the sun, by
the spring thaws. By this means, the under-pinning has been considerably disordered ; which people were not sensible
of till the ends of the joists which bore up the front gallery, were drawn off from the girts on which they rested by the
walls giving way. So that in toe midst of the public exercise in toe forenoon, soon after the beginning of sermon,
the whole gallery — full of people, with all the seats and timber, suddenly and without any warning — sunk, and fell down
with the most amazing noise upon the heads of those that sat under, to the astonishment of toe congregation. The
house was filled with dolorous shrieking and crying ; and nothing else was expected than to find many people dead, and
dashed to pieces.
" The gallery in falling seemed to break and sink first in the middle ; so that those who were upon it were thrown
together in heaps before the front door. But the whole was so sudden, that many of them who fell, knew nothing at
the time what it was that had befallen them. Others in the congregation thought it had been an amazing clap of thunder.
The falling gallery seemed to be broken all to pieces before it got down ; so that some who fell with it, as well as those
who were under, were buried in the ruins ; and were found pressed under heavy loads of timber, and could do nothing
to help themselves.
" But so mysteriously and wonderfully did it come to pass, that every life was preserved ; and though many were
greatly bruised, and their flesh torn, yet there is not, as I can understand, one bone broken or so much as put out of
joint, among them all. Some who were thought to be almost dead at first, were greatly recovered ; and but one young
woman seems yet to remain in dangerous circumstances, by an inward hurt in her breast : but of late there appears
more hope of" her recovery.
" None can give account, or conceive, by what means people's lives and limbs should be thus preserved, when so great
a multitude were thus imminently exposed. It looked as though it was impossible but that great numbers must in
stantly be crushed to death, or dashed in pieces. It seems unreasonable to ascribe it to any thing else but the care of
Providence, in disposing the motions of every piece of timber, and the precise place of safety where every one should

346

PREFACE.

sit, and fall, when none were in any capacity to care for their own preservation. The preservation seems to be most
wonderful, with respect to the women and children in the middle ally, under the gallery, where it came down first, and
with greatest force, and where there was nothing to break the force of the falling weight.
" Such an event may be a sufficient argument of a divine Providence over the lives of men. We thought ourselves
called to set apart a day to be spent in toe solemn worship of God, to humble ourselves under such a rebuke of God
upon us in time of public service in his house by so dangerous and surprising an accident; and to praise his name for
so wonderful, and as it were miraculous, a preservation. The last Wednesday was kept by us to that end ; and a mercy
in which the hand of God is so remarkably evident, may be well worthy to affect the hearts of all who hear it."
Thus far the letter.
But it is time to conclude our Preface. If there should be any thing found in this narrative of the surprising conver
sion of such numbers of souls, where the sentiments or the style of the relater, or his inferences from matters of feet, do
not appear so agreeable to every reader, we hope it will have "no unhappy influence to discourage the belief of this glori
ous event. We must allow every writer his own way ; and must allow him to choose what particular instances he
would select from the numerous cases which came before him. And though he might have chosen others perhaps, of
more significancy in the eye of the world, than the woman and the child, whose experiences he relates at large ; yet it is
evident he chose that of the woman, because she was dead, and she is thereby incapable of knowing any honours or re
proaches on this account. And as for the child, those who were present, and saw and heard such a remarkable and last
ing change, on one so very young, must necessarily receive a stronger impression from it, and a more agreeable surprise,
than the mere narration of it can communicate to others at a distance. Children's language always loses its striking
beauties at second-hand.
Upon the whole, whatever defects any reader may find or imagine in this narrative, we are well satisfied, that such
an eminent work of God ought not to be concealed from the world : and as it was the reverend author's opinion, so
we declare it to be ours also, that it is very likely that this account of such an extraordinary and illustrious appearance
of divine grace in the conversion of sinners, may, by the blessing of God, have a happy effect upon the minds of men,
towards the honour and enlargement ofthe kingdom of Christ, much more than any supposed imperfection in this re
presentation of it can do injury.
May the worthy writer of this epistle, and all those his reverend brethren in the ministry, who have been honoured in
this excellent and important service, go on to see their labours crowned with daily and persevering success ! May the
numerous subjects of this surprising work bold fast what they have received, and increase in every christian grace and
blessing ! May a plentiful effusion of the blessed Spirit, also, descend on toe British isles, and all their American
Elantations, to renew the face of religion there ! And we entreat our readers in both Englands, to join with us in our
earty addresses to the throne of grace, that this wonderful discovery of the hand of God in saving sinners, may en
courage our faith and hope of the accomplishment of all his words of grace, which are written in the Old Testament and
in the New, concerning the large extent of this salvation in the latter days of the world. Come, Lord fesus, come quickly,
and spread thy dominion through all the ends of the earth. Amen.

London,
Oct. 12, 1737.

ISAAC WATTS.
JOHN GUYSE.

FAITHFUL NARRATIVE,
&c. &c.

rev. and honoured sir,
Having seen your letter to my honoured uncle Williams
of Hatfield, of July 20, wherein you inform him of the
notice that has been taken of the late wonderful work of
God, in this and some other towns in this country, by the
Rev. Dr. Watts, and Dr. Guyse, of London, and the con
gregation to which the last of these preached on a monthly
day of solemn prayer ; as also, of your desire to be more
perfectly acquainted with it, by some of us on the spot :
and having been since informed by my uncle Williams
that you desire me to undertake it ; I would now do it, in
as just and faithful a manner as in me lies.

SECT. I.
A general introductory statement.
The people of the country, in general, I suppose, areas
sober, orderly, and good sort of people, as in any part of
New England ; and I believe they have been preserved the
* The Springfield Contention relates to the settlement of a minister
there, which occasioned too warm debates between some, both pastors
and people, that were for it, and others that were against it, on account of

freest by far of any part of the country, from error, and
variety of sects and opinions. %Our being so far within the
land, at a distance from sea-ports, and in a corner of the
country, has doubtless been one reason why we have not
been so much corrupted with vice, as most other parts.
But without question, the religion and good order of the
county, and purity in doctrine, has, under God, been very
much owing to the great abilities, and eminent piety, of
my venerable and honoured grandfather Stoddard. I sup
pose we have been the freest of any part of the land from
unhappy divisions and quarrels in our ecclesiastical and
religious affairs, till the late lamentable Springfield con
tention? Being much separated from other parts of the province,
and having comparatively but little intercourse with them,
we have always managed our ecclesiastical affairs within
ourselves. It is the way in which the country, from its
infancy, has gone on, by the practical agreement of all ;
and the way in which our peace and good order has hither
to been maintained.
The town of Northampton is of about .2 years stand
ing, and has now about 200 families ; which mostly dwell
their different apprehensions about his principles, and about some stens
that were taken to procure his ordination.

Sect. I.

A GENERAL INTRODUCTORY STATEMENT.

347

more compactly together than any town of such a size in
these parts of the country. This probably has been an
occasion, that both our corruptions and reformations have
been, from time to time, the more swiftly propagated from
one to another through the town." lake the town in
general, and so far as I can judge, they are as rational and
intelligent a people as most I have been acquainted with.
Many of them have been noted for religion ; and particu
larly remarkable for their distinct knowledge in things that
relate to heart religion, and christian experience, and their
great regards thereto.
I am the third minister who has been settled in the
town. The Rev. Mr. Eleazer Mather, who was the first,
was ordained in July, 1669. He was one whose heart
was much in his work, and abundant in labours for the
good of precious souls. He had the high esteem and
great love of his people, and was blessed with no small
success. The Rev. Mr. Stoddard who succeeded him,
came first to the town the November after his death ; but
was not ordained till September 11, 1672, and died
February 11, 1728-9. So that he continued in the work
of the ministry here, from his first coming to town, near
60 years. And as he was eminent and renowned for his
gifts and grace ; so he was blessed, from the beginning,
with extraordinary success in his ministry, in the conversion
of many souls. He had five harvests, as he called them.
The first was about 57 years ago ; the second about 53 ;
the third about 40 ; the fourth about 24 ; the fifth and
last about 18 years ago. Some of these times were much
more remarkable than others, and the ingathering of souls
more plentiful. Those about 53, and 40, and 24 years
ago, were much greater than either the first or the last :
but in each of them, I have heard my grandfather say, the
greater part of the young people in the town, seemed to be
mainly concerned for their eternal salvation.
After the last of these, came a far more degenerate time,
(at least among the young people,) I suppose, than ever
before. Mr. Stoddard, indeed, had the comfort, before he
died, of seeing a time where there were no small appear
ances of a divine work among some, and a considerable
ingathering of souls, even after I was settled with him in
the ministry, which was about two years before his death ;
and I have reason to bless God for the great advantage I
had by it. In these two years there were nearly twenty
that Mr. Stoddard hoped to be savingly converted ; but
there was nothing of any general awakening. The greater
part seemed to be at that time very insensible of the things
of religion, and engaged in other cares and pursuits. Just
after my grandfather s death, it seemed to be a time of
extraordinary dulness in religion. Licentiousness for some
years greatly prevailed among the youth of the town ; they
were many of them very much addicted to night-walking,
and frequenting the tavern, and lewd practices, wherein
some, by their example, exceedingly corrupted others. It
was their manner very frequently to get together, in con
ventions of both sexes for mirth and jollity, which they
called frolics ; and they would often spend the greater
part ofthe night in them, without regard to any order in
the families they belonged to : and indeed family govern
ment did too much, fail in the town. It was become very
customary with many of our young people to be indecent
in their carriage at meeting, which doubtless would not
have prevailed in such a degree, had it not been that my
grandfather, through his great age, (though he retained his
powers surprisingly to the last,) was not so able to observe
them. There had also long prevailed in the town a spirit
of contention between two parties, into which they had for
many years been divided; by which they maintained a
jealousy one of the other, and were prepared to oppose one
another in all public affairs.
But in two or three years after Mr. Stoddard's death,
there began to be a sensible amendment of these evils.
The young people showed more of a disposition to hearken
to counsel, and by degrees left off their frolics ; they grew
observably more decent in their attendance on the public
worship, and there were more who manifested a religious
concern than there used to be.
At the latter end of the year 1733, there appeared a
» It must be noted, that it has. never been our manner, to observe the

very unusual flexibleness, and yielding to advice, in our
young people. It had been too long their manner to
make the evening after the sabbath? and after our public
lecture, to be especially the times of their mirth, and com
pany-keeping. But a sermon was now preached on the
sabbath before the lecture, to show the evil tendency of the
practice, and to persuade them to reform it ; and it was
urged on heads of families that it should be a thing agreed
upon among them, to govern their families, and keep their
children at home, at these times. It was also more pri
vately moved, that they should meet together the next
day, in their several neighbourhoods, to know each other's
minds ; which was accordingly done, and the motion com
plied with throughout the town. But parents found little
or no occasion for the exercise of government in the case.
The young people declared themselves convinced by what
they had heard from the pulpit, and were willing of them
selves to comply with the counsel that had been given :
and it was immediately, and, I suppose, almost univer
sally, complied with ; and there was a thorough reforma
tion of these disorders thenceforward, which has continued
ever since.
Presently after this, there began to appear a remarkable
religious concern at a little village belonging to the con
gregation called Pascommuck, where a few families were
settled, at about three miles distance from the main body
of the town. At this place, a number of persons seemed
to be savingly wrought upon. In the April following,
anno 1734, there happened a very sudden and awful death
of a young man in the bloom of his youth; who being
violently seized with a pleurisy, and taken immediately
very delirious, died in about two days ; which (together
with what was preached publicly on that occasion) much
affected many young people. This was followed with
another death of a young married woman, who had been
considerably exercised in mind, about the salvation of her
soul, before she was ill, and was in great distress in the
beginning of her illness ; but seemed to have satisfying
evidences of God's saving mercy to her, before her death ;
so that she died very full of comfort, in a most earnest and
moving manner warming, and counselling others. This
seemed to contribute to render solemn the spirits of many
young persons ; and there began evidently to appear more
of a religious concern on people's minds.
In the fall of the year I proposed it to the young peo
ple, that they should agree among themselves to spend the
evenings after lectures in social religion, and to that end
divide themselves into several companies to meet in va
rious parts of the town ; which was accordingly done, and
those meetings have been since continued, and the exam
ple imitated by elder people. This was followed with the
death of an elderly person, which was attended with many
unusual circumstances, by which many were much moved
and affected.
About this time began the great noise, in this part of the
country, about Arminianism, which seemed to appear with
a very threatening aspect upon the interest of religion
here. The friends of vital piety trembled for fear of the
issue ; but it seemed, contrary to their fear, strongly to
be overruled for the promoting of religion. Many who
looked on themselves as in a Christless condition, seemed
to be awakened by it, with fear that God was about to
withdraw from the land, and that we should be given up
to heterodoxy and corrupt principles ; and that then their
opportunity for obtaining salvation would be past. Many
who were brought a little to doubt about the truth of the
doctrines they had hitherto been taught, seemed to have
a kind of trembling fear with their doubts, lest they
should be led into by-paths, to their eternal undoing ; and
they seemed, with much concern and engagedness of
mind, to inquire what was indeed the way in which' they
must come to be accepted with God. There were some
things said publicly on that occasion, concerning justifica
tion by faith alone.
Although great fault was found with meddling with the
controversy in the pulpit, by such a person, and at that
time — and though it was ridiculed by many elsewhere —
yet it proved a word spoken in season here ; and was most
evening that follows the sabbath, but that which precedes it, as part of the
holy time.

348

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

evidently attended with a very remarkable blessing of
heaven to the souls of the people in this town. They re
ceived thence a general satisfaction, with respect to the
main thing in question, which they had been in trembling
doubts and concern about; and their minds were en
gaged the more earnestly to seek that they might come to
be accepted of God, and saved in the way of the gospel,
which had been made evident to them to be the true and
only way. And then it was, in the latter part of Decem
ber; iliat the Spirit of God began extraordinarily to set in,
and wonderfully to work amongst us ; and there were, very
suddenly, one after another, five or six persons, who were
to all appearance savingly converted, and some of them
wrought upon in a very remarkable manner.
Particularly, I was surprised with the relation of a
young woman, who had been one of the greatest company-
keepers in the whole town. When she came to me, I
had never heard that she was become in any wise serious,
but by the conversation I then had with her, it appeared
to me, that what she gave an account of, was a glorious
work of God's infinite power and sovereign grace; and
that God had given her a new heart, truly broken and
sanctified. I could not then doubt of it, and have seen
much in my acquaintance with her since to confirm it.
Though the work was glorious, yet I was filled with
concern about the effect it might have upon others. I
was ready to conclude, (though too rashlv,) that some
would be hardened by it, in carelessness and looseness of
life ; and would take occasion from it to open their
mouths in reproaches of religion. But the event was the
reverse, to a wonderful degree. God made it, I suppose,
the greatest occasion of awakening to others, of any thing
that ever came to pass in the town. I have had abundant
opportunity to know the effect it had, by my private con
versation with many. The news of it seemed to be almost
like a flash of lightning, upon the hearts of young people,
all over the town, and upon many others. Those persons
amongst us, who used to he furthest from seriousness, and
that I most feared would make an ill improvement of it,
seemed greatly to be awakened with it. Many went to
talk with her, concerning what she had met with;, and
what appeared in her seemed to be to the satisfaction of
all that did so.
Presently upon this, a great and earnest concern about
the great things of religion, and the eternal world, became
universal in ail parts of the town, and among persons of all
degrees, and all ages. The noise amongst the dry bones
waxed louder and louder ; all other talk but about spi
ritual and eternal things, was soon thrown by ; all the
conversation, in all companies and upon all occasions, was
upon these things only, unless so much as was necessary
for people carrying on toeir ordinary secular business.
Other discourse than of the things of religion, would
scarcely be tolerated in any company. The minds of
people were wonderfully taken off from the world, it was
treated amongst us as a thing of very little consequence.
They seemed to follow their worldly business, more as a
part of their duty, than from any disposition they had to
it ; the temptation now seemed to lie on that hand, to
neglect worldly affairs too much, and to spend too much
time in the immediate exercise of religion. This was ex
ceedingly misrepresented by reports that were spread in
distant parts of toe land, as though the people here had
wholly thrown by all worldly business, and betook them
selves entirely to reading and praying, and such like
religious exercises.
But although people did not ordinarily neglect their
worldly business ; yet religion was with all sorts the great
concern, and the world was a thing only by the bye. The
only thing in their view was to get the kingdom of heaven,
and every one appeared pressing into it. The engaged-
ness of their hearts in this great concern could not be hid,
it appeared in their very countenances. It then was a
dreadful thing amongst us to lie out of Christ, in danger
every day of dropping into hell ; and what persons' minds
were intent upon, was to escape for their lives, and to fly
from wrath to come. All would eagerly lay hold of op
portunities for their souls ; and were wont very often to
meet together in private houses, for religious purposes :
and such meetings when appointed were greatly thronged.

There was scarcely a single person in the town, old or
young, left unconcerned about the great things of toe
eternal world. Those who were wont to be the vainest
and loosest, and those who had been most disposed to
think and speak slightly of vital and experimental reli
gion, were now generally subject to great awakenings.
And the work of conversion was carried on in a most as
tonishing manner, and increased more and more ; souls
did as it were come by flocks to Jesus Christ. From day
to day, for many months together, might be seen evident
instances of sinners brought out of darkness into marvellous
light, and delivered out of an horrible pit, and from the
miry clay, and set upon a rock, with a new song of praise to
God in their mouths.
This work of God, as it was carried on, and the number
of true saints multiplied, soon made a glorious alteration
in the town : so that in the spring and summer following,
anno 1735, the town seemed to be full of the presence of
God : it never was so full of love, nor of joy, and yet so full
of distress, as it was then. There were remarkable tokens
of God's presence in almost every house. It was a time
of joy in families on account of salvation being brought
unto them ; parents rejoicing over their children as new
born, and husbands over their wives, and wives over their
husbands. The goings of God were then seen in his sanc
tuary, God's day was a delight, and his tabernacles were
amiable. Our public assemblies were then beautiful : the
congregation was alive in God's' service, every one earnestly
intent on the public worship, every hearer eager to drink
in the words of toe minister as they came from his mouth ;
the assembly in general were, from time to time, in tears
while the word was preached ; some weeping with sorrow
and distress, others with joy and love, others with pity and
concern for the souls of their neighbours.
Our public praises were then greatly enlivened ; God
was then served in our psalmody, in some measure, in the
beauty of holiness. It has been observable, that there has
been scarce any part of divine worship, wherein good men
amongst us have had grace so drawn forth, and their hearts
so lifted up in the ways of God, as 'in singing his praises.
Our congregation excelled all that ever I knew in toe ex
ternal, part of the duty before, the men generally carrying
regularly, and well, three parts of music, and the women a
part by themselves ; but now they were evidently wont to
sing with unusual elevation of heart and voice, which made
the duty pleasant indeed.
In all companies, on other days, on whatever occasions
persons met together, Christ was" to be heard of, and seen
m the midst of them. Our young people, when they met,
were wont to spend the time in talking of the excellency
and dying love of Jesus Christ, the glory of the way of
salvation, the wonderful, free, and sovereign grace of God,
his glorious work in the conversion of a soul, the truth and
certainty ofthe great things of God's word, the sweetness
of the views of his perfections, Sec. And even at weddings,
which formerly were mere occasions of mirth and jollity,
there was now no discourse of any thing but religion, arid
no appearance of any but spiritual mirth. Those amongst
us who had heenformerly converted, were greatly enliven
ed, and renewed with fresh and extraordinary incomes of
the Spirit of God ; though some much more than others,
according to the measure of the gift of Christ. Many who
before had laboured under difficulties about their own
state, had now toeir doubts removed by more satisfying ex
perience, and more clear discoveries of God's love".
When this work first appeared, and was so extraor
dinarily carried on amongst us in the winter, others round
about us seemed not to know what to make of it. Many
scoffed at and ridiculed it ; and some compared what we
called conversion, to certain distempers. But it was very
observable of many, who occasionally came amongst u's
from abroad with disregarded hearts, that what they saw
here cured them of such a temper of mind. Strangers
were generally surprised to find things so much beyond
what they had heard, and were wont to tell others that the
state of the town could not be conceived of by those who
had not seen it. The notice that was taken of it by the
people who came to town on occasion of the court that sat
here in the beginning of March, was very observable. And
those who came from the neighbourhood to our public

Sect. I.

A GENERAL INTRODUCTORY STATEMENT.

349

lectures, were for toe most part remarkably affected.
Many who came to town, on one occasion or other, had
their consciences smitten, and awakened ; and went home
wito wounded hearts, and wito those impressions that
never wore off till they had hopefully a saving issue ; and
those who before had serious thoughts, had their awaken
ings and convictions greatly increased. There were many
instances of persons who came from abroad on visits, or
on business, who had not been long here before, to all ap
pearance, they were savingly wrought upon ; and partook
of that shower of divine blessing which God rained down
here, and went home rejoicing; till at length toe same
work began evidently to appear and prevail in several
other towns in the county.
In the month of March, the people in South- Hadley
begun to be seized wito deep concern about the things of
religion ; which very soon became universal: The work
of God has been very wonderful there ; not much, if any
thing, short of what it has been here, in proportion to the
size of the place. About the same time, it began to break
forth in the west part of Suffield, (where it also has been
very great,) and it soon spread into all parts of the town.
It next appeared at Sunderland, and soon overspread the
town : and I believe was, for a season, not less remarkable
than it was here. About the same time it began to appear
in a part of Deerfield, called Green River, and afterwards
filled the town, and there has been a glorious work there.
It began also to be manifest, in the south part of Hatfield,
in a place called the Hill, and the whole town, in the second
week in April, seemed to be seized, as it were at once, with
concern about the things of religion; and the work of God
has been great there. There has been also a very general
awakening at West-Spring field, and Long Meadow ; and
in Enfield there was for a time a pretty general concern
amongst some who before had been very loose persons.
About the same time that this appeared at Enfield, the
Rev. Mr. Bull, of Westfield, informed me, that there had
been a great alteration there, and toat more had been done
in one week, than in seven years before. Something of this
work likewise appeared in the first precinct in Springfield,
principally in the north and south extremes of the parish.
And in Hadley old town, there gradually appeared so much
of a work of God on souls, as at another time would have
been thought worthy of much notice. For a short time
there was also a very great and general concern, of the like
nature, at Northfield. And wherever this concern appeared,
it seemed not to be in vain : but in every place God
brought saving blessings with him, and his word attended
with his Spirit (as we have all reason to think) returned not
void. It might well be said at that time, in all parts of the
county, who are these that fly as a cloud, and as doves to their
windows ?
As what other towns heard of and found in this, was a
great means of awakening them ; so our hearing of such a
swift and extraordinary propagation, and extent of this
work, did doubtless for a time serve to uphold the work
amongst us. The continual news kept alive the talk of re
ligion, and did greatly quicken and rejoice the hearts of
God's people, and much awakened those who looked on
themselves as still left behind, and made them the more
earnest that they also might share in the great blessings that
others had obtained.
This remarkable pouring out of the Spirit of God, which
thus extended from one end to the other of this county,
was not confined to it, but many places in Connecticut
have partaken in the same mercy. For instance, the first
Sarish in Windsor, under the pastoral care of toe Rev. Mr.
larsh, was thus blest about the same time as we in North
ampton, while we had no knowledge of each other's cir
cumstances.' There has been a very great ingathering of
souls to Christ in that place, and something considerable
of the same work begun afterwards in East Windsor, my
honoured father's parish, which has in times past been a
place favoured with mercies of this nature, above any on
this western side of New England, excepting Northampton ;
there having been four or five seasons of the pouring out
of the Spirit to the general awakening of the people there,
since my father's settlement amongst them.
There was also the last spring and summer a wonderful
work of God carried on at Coventry, under the ministry of

the Rev. Mr. Meacham. I had opportunity to converse
with some Coventry people, who gave me a very remark
able account ofthe surprising change that appeared in the
most rude and vicious persons there. The like was also
very great at the same time in a part of Lebanon, called
the Crank, where the Rev. Mr. Wheelock, a young gentle
man, is lately settled : and there has been much of the
same at Durham, under the ministry of the Rev. Mr.
Chauncey; and to appearance no small ingathering of
souls there. Likewise amongst many of the young people
in the first precinct in Stratford, under the ministry of the
Rev. Mr. Gould ; where the work was much promoted by
the remarkable conversion of a young woman who had
been a great company-keeper, as it was here.
Something of this work appeared in several other towns
in those parts, as I was informed when I was there, the
last fall. And we have since been acquainted with some
thing very remarkable of this nature at another parish in
Stratford, called Ripton, under the pastoral care of the Rev.
Mr. Mills. There was a considerable revival of religion
last summer at Newhaven old town, as I was once and
again informed by the Rev. Mr. Noyes, the minister there,
and by others : and by a letter which I very lately received
from Mr. Noyes, and also by information we have had
other ways. This flourishing of religion still continues,
and has lately much increased. Mr. Noyes writes, that
many this summer have been added to the church, and par
ticularly mentions several young persons that belong to the
principal families of that town.
There has been a degree of the same work at a part of
Guildford ; and very considerable at Mansfield, under the
ministry of the Rev. Mr. Eleazar Williams ; and an un
usual religious concern at Tolland ; and something of it at
Hebron, and Bolton. There was also no small effusion of
the Spirit of God in the north parish in Preston, in the
eastern part of Connecticut, of which I was informed, and
saw something, when I was the last autumn at the house;
and in the congregation of the Rev. Mr. Lord, the minis
ter there ; who, with the Rev. Mr. Owen, of Groton, came
up hither in May, the last year, on purpose to see the work
of God. Having heard various and contradictory accounts
of it, they were careful when here to satisfy themselves ;
and to that end particularly conversed with many of our
people ; which they declared to be entirely to their satis
faction ; and that the one half had not been told them, nor
could be told them. Mr. Lord told me that, when he got
home, he informed his congregation of what he had seen, and
that they were greatly affected with it ; and that it proved
the beginning of the same work amongst them, which pre
vailed till there was a general awakening, and many in
stances of persons, who seemed to be remarkably convert
ed. I also have lately heard that there has been some
thing of the work at Woodbury.
But this shower of divine blessing has been yet more
extensive : there was no small degree of it in some part of
the Jerseys ; as I was informed when I was at New York,
(in a long journey I took at that time of the year for my
health,) by some people of the Jerseys, whom I saw.
Especially the Rev. William Tennent, a minister who
seemed to have such things much at heart, told me of a
very great awakening of many in a place called the Moun
tains, under the ministry of one Mr. Cross ; and of a very
considerable revival of religion in another place under the
ministry of his brother the Rev. Gilbert Tennent ; and also
at another place, under the ministry of a very pious young
gentleman, a Dutch minister, whose name as I remember
was Freelinghousa.
This seems to have been a very extraordinary dispensa
tion of providence ; God has in many respects gone out of,
and much beyond, his usual and ordinary way. The work
in this town, and some others about us, has been extraor
dinary on account of the universality of it, affecting all
sorts, sober and vicious, high and low, rich and poor, wise
and unwise. It reached the most considerable families
and persons, to all appearance, as much as others. In
former stirrings of this nature, the bulk of the young people
have been greatly affected ; but old men and little children
have been so now. Many of the last have, of their own
accord, formed themselves into religious societies, in differ
ent parts of the town. A loose careless person could scarce-

350

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

ly be found in the whole neighbourhood ; and if there was
any one that seemed to remain senseless or unconcerned, it
would be spoken of as a strange thing.
This dispensation has also appeared very extraordinary in
the numbers of those on whom we have reason to hope it
has had a saving effect. We have about six hundred and
twenty communicants, which include almost all our adult
persons. The church was very large before ; but persons
never thronged into it, as they did in the late extraordinary
time. — Our sacraments are eight weeks asunder, and I re
ceived into our communion about a hundred before one
sacrament, fourscore of them at one time, whose appear
ance, when they presented themselves together to make an
open explicit profession of Christianity, was very affecting
to toe congregation. I took in near sixty before the next
sacrament day: and I had very sufficient evidence ofthe
conversion of their souls, through divine grace, though it is
not the custom here, as it is in many other churches in this
country, to make a credible relation of their inward expe
riences the ground of admission to the Lord's supper.
I am far from pretending to be able to determine how
many have lately been the subjects of such mercy ; but if
I may be allowed to declare any thing that appears to me
probable in a thing of this nature, I hope that more than
300 souls were savingly brought home to Christ, in this
town, in the space of half a year, and about the same
number of males as females. By what I have heard
Mr. Stoddard say, this was far from what has been usual
in years past ; for he observed that in his time, many more
women were converted than men. Those of our young
people who are on other accounts most considerable, are
mostly, as I hope, truly pious, and leading persons in the
ways of religion. Those who were formerly loose young
persons, are generally, to all appearance, become true
lovers of God and Christ, and spiritual in toeir disposi
tions. I hope that by far the greater part of persons in
this town, above sixteen years of age, are such as have the
saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. By what I have heard
I suppose it is so in some other places ; particularly at
Sunderland and South Hadley.
This has also appeared to be a very extraordinary dis
pensation, in that the Spirit of God has so much extended
not only his awakening, but regenerating influences, both
to elderly persons, and also to those who are very young. It
has been heretofore rarely heard of, that any were con
verted past middle age ; but now we have the same ground
to think, that many such have at this time been savingly
changed, as that others have been so in more early years.
I suppose there were upwards of fifty persons converted
in this town above forty years of age ; more than twenty
of them above fifty ; about ten of them above sixty ; and
two of them above seventy years of age.
It has heretofore been looked on as a strange thing,
when any have seemed to be savingly wrought upon and
remarkably changed in their childhood. But now, I sup
pose, near thirty were, to appearance, savingly wrought
upon, between ten and fourteen years of age ; two between
nine and ten, and one of about four years of age ; and
because I suppose this last will be wito most difficulty
believed, I will hereafter give a particular account of it.
The influences of God's Holy Spirit have also been very
remarkable on children in some other places ; particularly
at Sunderland, South Hadley, and the west part of Suffield.
There are several families in this town who are all hope
fully pious. Yrea, there are several numerous families, in
which, I think, we have reason to hope that all the children
are truly godly, and most of them lately become so.
There are very few houses in toe whole town, into which
salvation has not lately come, in one or more instances.
There are several negroes, who from what was seen in
them then, and what is discernible in them since, ap
pear to have been truly born again in the late remarkable
season. God has also seemed to have gone out of his usual way,
in the quickness of his work, and the swift progress his
Spirit has made in his operations on the hearts of many.
It is wonderful toat persons should be so suddenly, and
yet so greatly changed. Many have been taken from a
loose and careless way of living, and seized with strong
convictions of their guilt and misery, and in a very little

time old things have passed away, and all things have
become new with them.
God's work has also appeared very extraordinary in the
degrees of his influences ; in toe degrees both of awaken
ing and conviction, and also of saving light, love, and joy,
that many have experienced. It has also been very ex
traordinary in the extent of it, and its being so swiftly
propagated from town to town. In former times of the
pouring out of the Spirit of God on this town, though in
some of toem it was very remarkable, it reached no further
then, toe neighbouring towns all around continued un
moved. This work seemed to be at its greatest height in this
town, in the former part of the spring, in March and
April. At that time, God's work in the conversion of
souls was carried on amongst us in so wonderful a manner,
that, so far as I can judge, it appears to have been at the
rate, at least, of four persons in a day ; or near thirty in a
week, take one with another, for five or six weeks together.
When God in so remarkable a manner took the work into
his own hands, there was as much done in a day or two as
at ordinary times, with all endeavours that men can use,
and with such a blessing as we commonly have, is done
in a year.
I am very sensible, how apt many would be, if they
should see the account I have here given, presently to
think with themselves that I am very fond of making a
great many converts, and of magnifying the matter ; and
to think that, for want of judgment, I take every religious
pang, and enthusiastic conceit, for saving conversion. I
do not much wonder, if they should be apt to think so ;
and, for this reason, I have forborne to publish an account
of this great work of God, though I have often been so
licited. But having now a special call to give an account
of it, upon mature consideration I thought it might not
be beside my duty to declare this amazing work, as it
appeared to me to be indeed divine, and to conceal no
part of the glory of it ; leaving it with God to take care
of toe credit of his own work, and running toe venture of
any censorious thoughts, which might be entertained of
me to my disadvantage. That distant persons may be
under as great advantage as may be to judge for them
selves of this matter, I would be a little more large and
particular.

SECT. II.
The manner of conversion various, yet bearing a great
analogy.
I therefore proceed to give an account of the manner
of persons being wrought upon ; and here there is a vast
variety, perhaps as manifold as the subjects of the opera
tion ; but yet in many things there is a great analogy in
all. — Persons are first awakened with a sense of their
miserable condition by nature, toe danger they are in of
perishing eternally, and toat it is of great importance to
them that they speedily escape and get into a better state.
Those who before were secure and senseless, are made
sensible how much they were in the way to ruin, in toeir
former courses. Some are more suddenly seized with con
victions — it may be, by the news of others' conversion, or
something they hear in public, or in private conference
—their consciences are smitten, as if their hearts were
pierced through with a dart. Others are awakened more
gradually, they begin at first to be something more thought
ful and considerate, so as to come to a conclusion in their
minds, that it is their best and wisest way to delay no
longer, but to improve the present opportunity. They have
accordingly set themselves seriously to meditate on those
things toat have the most awakening tendency, on purpose
to obtain convictions ; and so their awakenings have in
creased, till a sense of their misery, by God's Holy Spirit
setting in therewith, has had fast hold of toem. Others
who before had been somewhat religious, and concerned
for their salvation, have been awakened in a new manner ;
and made sensible that toeir slack and dull way of seek
ing, was never like to attain that purpose.
These awakenings when they have first seized on per-

Sect. II.

THE MANNER OF CONVERSION VARIOUS.

351

sons, have had two effects ; one was, that they have brought
them immediately to quit their sinful practices ; and the
looser sort have been brought to forsake and dread their
former vices and extravagancies. When once the Spirit of
God began to be so wonderfully poured out in a general
way through the town, people had soon done with their old
quarrels, backbitings, and intermeddling with other men's
matters. The tavern was soon left empty, and persons
kept very much at home ; none went abroad unless on ne
cessary business, or on some religious account, arid every
day seemed in many respects like a Sabbath-day. The
other effect was, that it put them on earnest application to
the means of salvation, reading, prayer, meditation, the
ordinances of God's house, and private conference ; their
cry was, What shall we do to be saved ? The place of re
sort was now altered, it was no longer the tavern, but the
minister's house that was thronged far more than ever the
tavern had been wont to be.
There is a very great variety, as to the degree of fear and
trouble that persons are exercised with, before they attain
any comfortable evidences of pardon and acceptance with
God. Some are from the beginning carried on with abun
dantly more encouragement and hope than others. Some
have had ten times less trouble of mind than others, in
whom yet the issue seems to be the same. Some have had
such a sense of the displeasure of God, and the great danger
they were in of damnation, that they could not sleep at
nights; and many have said that when they have laid
down, the thoughts of sleeping in such a condition have
been frightful to them ; they have scarcely been free from
terror while asleep, and they have awakened with fear,
heaviness, and distress, still abiding on their spirits. It
has been very common, that the deep and fixed concern on
persons' minds, has had a painful influence on their bodies,
and given disturbance to animal nature.
The awful apprehensions persons have had of their
misery, have for the most part been increasing, the nearer
they have approached to deliverance ; though they often
pass through many changes and alterations in the frame
and circumstances of their minds. Sometimes they think
themselves wholly senseless, and fear that the Spirit of
God has left them, and that they are given up to judicial
hardness ; yet they appear very deeply exercised about that
fear, and are in great earnest to obtain convictions again.
Together with those fears, and that exercise of mind
which is rational, and which they have just ground for,
they have often suffered many needless distresses of
thought, in which Satan probably has a great hand, to en
tangle them, and block up their way. Sometimes the dis
temper of melancholy has been evidently mixed ; of which,
when it happens, the tempter seems to take great advan
tage, and puts an unhappy bar in the way of any good
effect. One knows not now to deal with such persons ;
they turn every thing that is said to them the wrong way,
and most to their own disadvantage. There is nothing
that the devil seems to make so great a handle of, as a
melancholy humour ; unless it be the real corruption of
the heart.
But it is very remarkable, that there has been far less of
this mixture at this time of extraordinary blessing, than
there was wont to be in persons under awakenjngs at other
times ; for it is evident that many who before had been
exceedingly involved in such difficulties, seemed now
strangely to be set at liberty. Some persons who had be
fore, for a long time, been exceedingly entangled with pe
culiar temptations of one sort or other, unprofitable and
hurtful distresses, were soon helped over former stumbling-
blocks, toat hindered their progress towards saving good ;
convictions have wrought more kindly, and they have been
successfully carried on in the way to life. And thus Sa
tan seemed to be restrained, till towards the latter end of
this wonderful time, when God's Holy Spirit was about
to withdraw.
Many times persons under great awakenings were con
cerned, because they thought they were not awakened,
but miserable, hard-hearted, senseless, sottish creatures
still, and sleeping upon the brink of hell. The sense of
the need they have to be awakened, and of their compara
tive hardness, grows upon them with their awakenings ;
so that they seem to themselves to be very senseless, when

indeed most sensible. There have been some instances of
persons who have had as great a sense of their danger
and misery, as their natures could well subsist under, so
that a little more would probably have destroyed them;
and yet they have expressed themselves much amazed at
their own insensibility and sottishness, at such an 'extra
ordinary time.
Persons are sometimes brought to the borders of despair,
and it looks as black as midnight to them a little before the
day dawns in their souls. Some few instances there have
been, of persons who have had such a sense of God's
wrath for sin, that they have been overborne; and made "
to cry out under an astonishing sense of their guilt, won
dering that God suffers such guilty wretches to live
upon earth, and that he doth not immediately send them
to hell. Sometimes their guilt doth so stare them in toe
face, that they are in exceeding terror for fear that God will
instantly do it; but more commonly their distresses
under legal awakenings have not been to such a degree.
In some, these terrors do not seem to be so sharp, when
near comfort, as before ; their convictions have not seemed
to work so much that way, but to be led further down into
their own hearts, to a further sense of their own universal1
depravity and deadness in sin.
The corruption of the heart has discovered itself in va
rious exercises, in the time of legal convictions; sometimes
it appears in a great struggle, like something roused by an
enemy, and Satan the old inhabitant seems to exert him
self, like a serpent disturbed and enraged. Many in such
circumstances, have felt a great spirit of envy towards the
godly, especially towards those who are thought to have
been lately converted, and most of all towards acquaintance
and companions, when they are thought to be converted.
Indeed, some have felt many heart-risings against God,
and murmurings at his way of dealing with mankind, and
his dealings with themselves in particular. It has been
much insisted on, both in public and private, that persons
should have the utmost dread of such envious thoughts ;
which if allowed tend exceedingly to quench the Spirit of
God, if not to provoke him finally to forsake them. And
when such a spirit has much prevailed, and persons have
not so earnestly strove against it as they ought to have
done, it has seemed to be exceedingly to the hinderance of
the good of their souls. But in some other instances,
where persons have been much terrified at the sight of such
wickedness in their hearts, God has brought good to them
out of evil ; and made it a means of convincing them of
their own desperate sinfulness, and bringing them oft' from
all self-confidence.
The drift of the Spirit of God in his legal strivings with
persons, have seemed most evidently to be, to bring to a
conviction of their absolute dependence on his sovereign
power and grace, and an universal necessity of a mediator.
This has been effected by leading them more and more to
a sense of their exceeding wickedness and guiltiness in his
sight ; their pollution, and the insufficiency of their own
righteousness ; that they can in no wise help themselves,
and that God would be wholly just and righteous in re
jecting them and all that they do, and in casting them off for
ever. There is however, a vast variety, as to the manner
and distinctness of such convictions.
As they are gradually more and more convinced of the
corruption and wickedness of their hearts ; they seem to
themselves to grow worse and worse, harder and blinder,
and more desperately wicked, instead of growing better.
They are ready to be discouraged by it, and oftentimes
never think themselves so far o/ftom good, as when they
are nearest. Under the sense which the Spirit of God
gives them of their sinfulness, they often think that they
differ from all others ; their hearts are ready to sink with
the thought, that they are the worst of -11, and that none
ever obtained mercy who were so wicked as they.
When awakenings first begin, their consciences are com
monly most exercised about their outward vicious course,
or other acts of sin ; but afterwards, are much more bur
dened with a sense of heart-sins, the dreadful corruption
of their nature, their enmity against God, the pride of their
hearts, their unbelief, their rejection of Christ, the stub
bornness and obstinacy of their wills ; and the like. In
many, God makes much use of their own experience, in

352

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

the course of their awakenings and endeavours after saving
good, to convince them of their own vile emptiness and
universal depravity.
; Very often under first awakenings, when they are
brought to reflect on the sin of their past lives, and have
something of a terrifying sense of God's anger, they set
themselves to walk more strictly, and confess their sins,
and perform many religious duties, with a secret hope of
appeasing God's anger, and making up for the sins they
have committed. And oftentimes, at first setting out,
their affections are so moved, that they are full of tears, in
their confessions and prayers ; which they are ready to-
make very much of, as though they were some atonement,
and had power to move correspondent affections in God
too. Hence they are for a while big with expectation of
what God will do for them ; and conceive they grow
better apace, and shall soon be thoroughly converted. But
these affections are but short-lived ; they quickly find that
they fail, and then they think themselves to be grown
worse again. They do not find such a prospect of being
soon converted, as they thought : instead of being nearer,
they seem to be farther off; their hearts thev think are
grown harder, and by this means their fears of perishing
greatly increase. But though they are disappointed, they
renew their attempts again and again ; and still as their
attempts are multiplied, so are their disappointments. All
fails, they see no token of having inclined God's heart to
them, they do not see that he hears their prayers at all, as
they expected he would ; and sometimes there have been
great temptations arising hence to leave off seeking, and to
yield up the case. But as they are still more terrified
with fears of perishing, and their former hopes of prevail
ing on God to be merciful to them in a great measure fail ;
sometimes their religious affections have turned into heart-
risings against God, because he will not pity them, and
seems to have little regard to their distress, and piteous
cries, and to all the pains they take. They think of the
mercy God has shown to others; how soon and how
easily others have obtained comfort, and those too who
were worse than they, and have not laboured so much as
they have done ; and sometimes they have had even dread
ful blasphemous thoughts, in these circumstances.
But when they reflect on these wicked workings of heart
against God — if their convictions are continued, and the
Spirit of God is not provoked utterly to forsake them — thev
have more distressing apprehensions of the anger of God
towards those whose hearts work after such a sinful manner
about him ; and it may be, have great fears toat they have
committed the unpardonable sin, or that God will surely
never show mercy to them who are such vipers ; and are
often tempted to leave off in despair. But then perhaps
by something they read or hear of the infinite mercy of
God, and all-sufficiency of Christ for the chief of sinners,
they have some encouragement and hope renewed ; but
think that as yet they are not fit to come to Christ ; they
are so wicked that Christ will never accept of them. And
then it may be they set themselves upon a new course of
fruitless endeavours, in their own strength, to make them
selves better ; and still meet with new disappointments.
They are earnest to inquire, what they shall do r They do
not know but there is something else to be done, in order
to their obtaining converting grace, that they have never
done yet. It may be they hope, that they are something
better than they were ; but then the pleasing dream all
vanishes again. If they are told, that they trust too much
to their own strength and righteousness, they cannot un
learn this practice all at once, and find not yet the appear
ance of any good, but all looks as dark as midnight to
them. Thus they wander about from mountain to hill,
seeking rest, and, finding none. When they are beat out
of one refuge, they fly to another ; till they are as it were
debilitated, broken, and subdued with legal humblings ;
in which God gives them a conviction of their own utter
helplessness and insufficiency, and discovers the true re
medy in a clearer knowledge of Christ and his gospel.
When they begin to seek salvation, they are commonly
Erofoundly ignorant of themselves ; they are not sensible
ow blind they are, and how little they can do towards
bringing themselves to see spiritual things aright, and
towards putting forth- gracious exercises in their own souls.

They are not sensible how remote they are from love to
God, and other holy dispositions, and how dead they are
in sin. When they see unexpected pollution in their own
hearts, they go about to wash away their own defilements,
and make themselves clean ; and they weary themselves
in vain, till Cod shows them that it is in vain, and that
their help is not where they have sought it.
But some persons continue wandering in such a kind of
labyrinth, ten times as long as others, before their own ex
perience will convince them of their insufficiency ; and so
it appears not to be their own experience only, but the
convincing influence of God's Holy Spirit with their ex
perience, that attains the effect. God has of late abun
dantly shown, that he does not need to wait to have men
convinced by long and often repeated fruitless trials ; for
in multitudes of instances he has made a shorter work of
it. He has so awakened and convinced persons' con
sciences, and made them so sensible of their exceeding
great vileness, and given them such a sense of his wrath
against sin, as has quickly overcome all their vain self-
confidence, and borne them down into the dust before a
holy and righteous God.
There have been some who have not had great terrors,
but have had a very quick work. Some of those who
have not had so deep a conviction of these things before
their conversion, have much more of it afterwards. God
has appeared far from limiting himself to any certain me
thod in his proceedings with sinners under legal convic
tions. In some instances, it seems easy for our reasoning
powers to discern the methods of divine wisdom, in his
dealings with the soul under awakenings ; in others, his
footsteps cannot be traced, and his ways are past finding
out. Some who are less distinctly wrought upon, in what
is preparatory to grace, appear no less eminent in gracious
experiences afterwards.
There is in nothing a greater difference, in different per
sons, than with respect to the time of their being under
trouble ; some but a few days, and others for months or
years. There were many in this town, who had been,
before this effusion of the Spirit upon us, for years, and
some for many years, concerned about their salvation.
Though probably they were not thoroughly awakened, yet
they were concerned to such a degree as to be very uneasy,
so as to live an uncomfortable disquieted life. They con
tinued in a way of taking considerable pains about their
salvation; but had never obtained any comfortable evi
dence of a good state. Several such persons, in this ex
traordinary time, have received light ; but many of them
were some of the last. They first saw multitudes of others
rejoicing, with songs of deliverance in their mouths, who
before had seemed wholly careless and at ease, and in pur
suit of vanity ; while they had been bowed down with
solicitude about their souls. Yea, some had lived licen
tiously, and so continued till a little before they were con
verted ; and yet soon grew up to a holy rejoicing in the
infinite blessings God had bestowed upon them.
Whatever minister has a like occasion to deal with souls,
in a flock under such circumstances, as this was in the
last year, I cannot but think he will soon find himself
under a necessity, greatly to insist upon it with them, that
God is under no manner of obligation to show mercy to
any natural man, whose heart is not turned to God : and
that a man can challenge nothing either in absolute justice,
or by free promise, from any thing he does before he has
believed on Jesus Christ, or has true repentance begun in
him. It appears to me, that if I had taught those who
came to me under trouble, any other doctrine, I should
have taken a most direct course utterly to undo them. I
should have directly crossed what was plainly the drift of
the Spirit of God in his influences upon them ; for if they
had believed what I said, it would either have promoted
self-flattery and carelessness, and so put an end to their
awakenings ; or cherished and established their contention
and strife with God, concerning his dealings with them
and others, and blocked up their way to that humiliation
before the Sovereign Disposer of life and death, whereby
God is wont to prepare them for his consolations. And
yet those who have been under awakenings have often
times plainly stood in need of being encouraged, by being
told of the infinite and all-sufficient mercy of God in Christ;

Sect. II.

THE MANNER OF CONVERSION VARIOUS.

353

and that it is God's manner to succeed diligence, and to
bless his own means, that so awakenings and encourage
ments, fear and hope, may be duly mixed, and proportioned
to preserve their minds in a just medium between the two
extremes of self-flattery and despondence, both which tend
to slackness and negligence, and in the end to security. I
think I have found that no discourses have been more
remarkably blessed, than those in which the doctrine of God's
absolute sovereignty, with regard to the salvation of sinners,
and his just liberty, with regard to answering the prayers,
or succeeding the pains, of natural men, continuing such,
have been insisted on. I never found so much immediate
saving fruit, in any measure, of any discourses I have
offered to my congregation, as some from these words,
Rom. iii. 19. " That every mouth may be stopped ;" en
deavouring to show from thence, that it would be just
with God for ever to reject and cast off mere natural men.
As to those in whom awakenings seem to have a saving
issue, commonly the first thing that appears after their le
gal troubles, is a conviction of the justice of God in their
condemnation, appearing in a sense of their own exceeding
sinfulness, and the vileness of all their performances. In
giving an account of this, they expressed themselves very
variously ; some, that thev saw God was sovereign, and
might receive others and reject them ; some, that they were
convinced, God might justly bestow mercy on every per
son in the town, in the world, and damn themselves to all
eternity ; some, that they see God may justly have no re
gard to all the pains they have taken, and all the prayers
they have made ; some, that if they should seek, and take
the utmost pains all their lives, God might justly cast
them into hell at last, because all their labours, prayers,
and tears cannot make an atonement for the least sin, nor
merit any blessing at the hands of God. Some have de
clared themselves to be in the hands of God, that he may
dispose of them just as he pleases; some, that God may
glorify himself in their damnation, and they wonder that
God has suffered them to live so long, and has not cast
them into hell long ago.
Some are brought to this conviction by a great sense of
their sinfulness, in general, that they are such vile wicked
creatures in heart and life : others have the sins of their
lives iu an extraordinary manner set before tbem, multi
tudes of them comingjust then fresh to toeir memory, and
being set before them with their aggravations. Some have
their minds especially fixed on some particular wicked
practice they have indulged. Some are especially con
vinced by a sight of the corruption and wickedness of their
hearts. Some, from a view they have of the horridness of
some particular exercises of corruption, which they have
had in the time of their awakening, whereby the enmity of
the heart against God has been manifested. Some are
convinced especially by a sense of the sin of unbelief, the
opposition of their hearts to toe way of salvation by Christ,
and their obstinacy in rejecting him and his grace.
There is a great deal of difference as to distinctness here ;
some, who have not so clear a sight of God's justice in
their condemnation, yet mention things that plainly imply
it. They find a disposition to acknowledge God to be just
and righteous in his threatenings ; and that they are unde
serving : and many times, though they had not so particu
lar a sight of it at the beginning, they have very clear dis
coveries of it soon afterwards, with great humblings in the
dust before God.
Commonly persons' minds immediately before this dis
covery of God's justice are exceedingly restless, in a kind
of struggle and tumult, and sometimes in mere anguish ;
but generally, as soon as they have this conviction, it im
mediately brings their minds to a calm, an unexpected
quietness and composure ; and most frequently, though not
always, then the pressing weight upon their spirits is taken
away, and a general hope arises, that some time or other
God will be gracious, even before any distinct and particu
lar discoveries of mercy. Often they then come to a con
clusion within themselves, that they will lie at God's feet,
and wait his time ; and they rest in that, not being sensi
ble that the Spirit of God has now brought them to a
frame whereby they are prepared for mercy. For it is re
markable, that persons when they .first have this sense of
the justice of God, rarely, at the time, think any thing of
vol. I. 2 a

its being that humiliation they have often heard insisted
on, and that others experience.
In many persons, the first conviction of the justice of
God in their condemnation, which they take particular
notice of, and probably the first distinct conviction of it
that they have, is of such a nature, as seems to be above
any thing merely legal. Though it be after 'legal hum
blings, and much of a sense of their own helplessness, and
of the insufficiency of their own duties ; yet it does not
appear to be forced by mere legal terrors and convictions ;
but rather from a high exercise of grace, in saving repent
ance, and evangelical humiliation. For there is in it a sort
of complacency of soul, in the attribute of God's justice,
as displayed in his threatenings of eternal damnation to
sinners. Sometimes at the discovery of it, they can scarcely,
forbear crying out, it is just! it is just! Some ex
press themselves, that they see the glory of God would
shine bright in their own condemnation ; and they are
ready to think that if they are damned, they could take
part with God against themselves, and would glorify his
justice therein. And when it is thus, they commonly have
some evident sense of free and all-sufficient grace, though
they give no distinct account of it ; but it is manifest, by
that great degree of hope and encouragement they then
conceive, though they were never so sensible of their own
vileness and ill-deservings as they are at that time.
Some, when in such circumstances, have felt that sense
of the excellency of God's justice, appearing in the vin
dictive exercises of it, against such sinfulness as theirs was ;
and have had such a submission of mind in their idea of
this attribute, and of those exercises of it — together with an
exceeding loathing of their own unworthiness, and a kind
of indignation against themselves — that they have some
times almost called it a willingness to be damned ; though
it must be owned they had not clear and distinct ideas of
damnation, nor does any word in the Bible require such
self-denial as this. But the truth is, as some have more
clearly expressed it, that salvation has appeared too good
for them, that they were worthy of nothing but condemna
tion, and they could not tell how to think of salvation being
bestowed upon them, fearing it was inconsistent with the
glory of God's majesty, tliat they had so much contemned
and affronted.
That calm of spirit that some persons have found after
their legal distresses, continues some time before any
special and delightful manifestation is made to the soul of
the grace of God as revealed in the gospel. But very often
some comfortable and sweet view of a merciful God, of a
sufficient Redeemer, or of some great and joyful things of
the gospel, immediately follows, or in a very little time :
and in some, the first sight of their just desert of hell, and
God's sovereignty with respect to their salvation, and a
discovery of all-sufficient, grace, are so near, that they seem
to go as it were together.
These gracious discoveries given, whence the first special
comforts are derived, are in many respects very various.
More frequently, Christ is distinctly made the object of the
mind, in his all-sufficiency and willingness to save sin
ners ; but some have their thoughts more especially fixed
on God, in some of his sweet and glorious attributes mani
fested in the gospel, and shining forth in the face of Christ.
Some view the all-sufficiency of the mercy and grace of
God; some, chiefly the infinite power of God, and his
ability to save them, and to do all things for them ; and
some look most at toe truth and faithfulness of God. In
some, the truth and certainty of the gospel in general is the
first joyful discovery they have; in others, the certain truth
of some particular promises; in some, the grace and sin
cerity of God in his invitations, very commonly in some
particular invitation in the mind, and it now appears real
to them that God does indeed invite them. Some are
struck with the glory ana wonderfulness of the dying love
of Christ; and some with the sufficiency and preciousness
of his blood, as offered to make an atonement for sin ; and
others with the value and glory of his obedience and
righteousness. In some the excellency and loveliness of
Christ, chiefly engages their thoughts ; in some his divinity,
that he is indeed the Son ofthe living God; and in others,
the excellency of the way of salvation by Christ, and the
suitableness of it to their necessities.

354

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

Some have an apprehension of these things so given,
that it seems more natural to them to express it by sight
or discovery ; others think what they experience better ex
pressed by the realizing conviction, or a lively or feeling
sense of heart; meaning, as I suppose, no other difference
but what is merely circumstantial or gradual.
There is, often, in the mind, some particular text of
Scripture, holding forth some evangelical ground of con
solation ; sometimes a multitude of texts, gracious invita
tions and promises flowing in one after another, filling the
soul more and more with comfort and satisfaction. Com
fort is first given to some, while reading some portion of
Scripture ; but in some it is attended with no particular-
scripture at all, either in reading or meditation. In some,
many divine things seem to be discovered to the soul as it
were at once ; others have their minds especially fixing on
some one thing at first, and afterwards a sense is given of
others ; in some with a swifter, and others a slower, suc
cession, and sometimes with interruptions of much dark
ness. The way that grace seems sometimes first to appear,
after legal humiliation, is in earnest longings of soul after
God and Christ : to know God, to love him, to be hum
ble before him, to have communion with Christ in his
benefits ; which longings, as they express them, seem
evidently to be of such a nature as can arise from nothing
but a sense of toe superlative excellency of divine things,
with a spiritual taste and relish of them, and an esteem of
them as their highest happiness and best portion. Such
longings as I speak of, are commonly attended wito firm
resolutions to pursue this good for ever, together with a
hoping, waiting disposition. When persons have begun
in such frames, commonly other experiences and dis
coveries have soon followed, which have yet more clearly
manifested a change of heart.
It must needs he confessed that Christ is not always
distinctly and explicitly thought of in the first sensible act
of grace, (though most commonly he is,) but sometimes he
is the object of the mind only implicitly. Thus some
times when persons have seemed evidently to be shipped
of all their own righteousness, and to have stood self-con
demned as guilty of death, they have been comforted
with a joyful and satisfying view, that the mercy and
grace of God is sufficient for toem — that their sins, though
never so great, shall be no hinderance to their being ac
cepted ; that there is mercy enough in God for the whole
world, and the like — when they give no account of any
particular or distinct thought of Christ. But yet, when
the account they give is duly weighed, and they are a
little interrogated about it, it appears that the revelation of
mercy in the gospel, is the ground of toeir encouragement
and hope ; and that it is indeed the mercy of God through
Christ that is discovered to them, and that it is depended
on in him, and not in any wise moved by any thing in
them. Sometimes disconsolate souls have been revived, and
brought to rest in God, by a sweet sense of his grace and
faithfulness, in some special invitation or promise ; in which
nevertheless there is no particular mention of Christ, nor
is it accompanied with any distinct thought of him in
their minds : but yet, it is not received as out of Christ,
but as one of the invitations or promises made of God to
poor sinners through his Son Jesus. And such persons
afterwards have had clear and distinct discoveries of
Christ, accompanied with lively and special actings of
faith and love towards him.
Frequently, when persons have first had the gospel-
ground of relief discovered to them, and have been enter
taining, their minds with the sweet prospect, they have
thought nothing at that time of their being converted. To
see, that there is an all-sufficiency in God, and such
plentiful provision made in Christ, after they have been
borne down, and sunk with a sense of their guilt and fears
of wrath, exceedingly refreshes them. The view is joyful
to them ; as it is in its own nature glorious, gives them
quite new and delightful ideas of God and Christ, greatly
encourages them to seek conversion. This begets in them
a strong resolution to devote themselves and their whole
lives to God and his Son, and patiently to wait till God
shall see fit to make all effectual ; and very often entertain

a strong persuasion, toat he will in his own time do it fol
them. There is wrought in them a holy repose of soul in God
through Christ, with a secret disposition to fear and love
him, and to hope for blessings from-him in this way. Yet,
they have no imagination that they are now converted, it
does not so much as come into their minds : and very
often the reason is, that they do not see that they accept of
this sufficiency of salvation toey behold in Christ, having
entertained a wrong notion of acceptance ; not being sen
sible that the obedient and joyful entertainment which
their hearts give to this discovery of grace, is a real accept
ance of it. They know not that the sweet complacence
they feel in the mercy and complete salvation of God, as
it includes pardon and sanctification, and is held forth to
them only through Christ, is a true receiving of this mercy,
or a plain evidence of their receiving it. They expected 1
know not what kind of act of soul, and perhaps they had
no distinct idea of it themselves.
And indeed it appears very plainly in some of them,
that before their own conversion they had very imperfect
ideas what conversion was. It is all new and strange, and
what there was no clear conception of before. It is most
evident, as they themselves acknowledge, that the expres
sions used to describe conversion, and toe graces of God's
Holy Spirit — such as a spiritual sight of Christ, faith in
Christ, poverty of spirit, trust in God, &c. — did not con
vey those distinct ideas to their minds, which toey were
intended to signify. Perhaps to some of them it was but
little more than the names of colours are to convey the
ideas to one that is blind from his birth.
In this town there has always been a great deal of talk
about conversion and spiritual experiences ; and therefore
people in general had formed a notion in their own minds
what these things were. But when they come to be the
subjects of them, they find themselves much confounded
in their notions, and overthrown in many of their former
conceits. And it has been very observable, that persons
of the greatest understanding, and who had studied most
about things of this nature, have been more confounded
than others. Some such persons declare, that all their
former wisdom is brought to nought, and that they appear
to have been mere babes, who knew nothing. It has
appeared, that none have stood more in need of instruc
tion, even of toeir fellow-Christians, concerning their own
circumstances and difficulties, than toey : and it seems to
have been with delight, that they have seen themselves
thus brought down, and become nothing ; that free grace
and divine power may be exalted in them.
It was very wonderful to see how persons' affections
were sometimes moved — when God did as it were sud
denly open their eyes, and let into their minds a sense of
the greatness of his grace, the fulness of Christ, and his
readiness to save — after having been broken with appre
hensions of divine wrath, and sunk into an abyss, under a
sense of guilt which they were ready to think was beyond
the mercy of God. Their joyful surprise has caused their
hearts as it were to leap, so that they have been ready to
break forth into laughter, tears often at the same time
issuing like a flood, and intermingling a loud weeping.
Sometimes they have not been able to forbear crying out
with a loud voice, expressing their great admiration. In
some, even the view of toe giory of God's sovereignty, in
the exercises of his grace, has surprised the soul with such
sweetness, as to produce the same effects. I remember an
instance of one, who, reading something concerning God's
sovereign way of saving sinners, as being self-moved —
having no regard to men's own righteousness as the motive
of his grace, but as magnifying himself and abasing man,
or to that purpose — felt such a sudden rapture of joy and
delight in toe consideration of it : and yet then he sus
pected himself to be in a Christless condition, and had
been long in great distress for fear that God would not
have mercy on him.
Many continue a long time in a course of gracious
exercises and experiences, and do not think themselves to
be converted, but conclude otherwise ; and none knows
how long they would continue so, were they not helped
by particular instructions. There are undoubted instances
of some who have lived in this way for many years toge-

Sect. II.

THE MANNER OF CONVERSION VARIOUS.

ther ; and these circumstances had various consequences,
with various persons, and wito toe same persons, at
various times. Some continue in great encouragement
and hope, that they shall obtain mercy in a stedfast
resolution to persevere in seeking it, and in an humble
waiting in it before God. But very often, when the lively
sense of the sufficiency of Christ and the riches of divine
grace, begins to vanish, upon a withdrawment of divine
influences, they return to greater distress than ever. For
they have now a far greater sense of the misery of a natural
condition than before, being in a new manner sensible of
the reality of eternal things, the greatness of God, his
excellency, and how dreadful it is to be separated from
him, and to be subject to his wrath ; so that they are some
times swallowed up with darkness and amazement. Satan
has a vast advantage in such cases to ply them with vari
ous temptations, which he is not wont to neglect : in svieh
a case, persons very much need a guide to lead them to
an understanding of what we are taught in the word of
God concerning the nature of grace, and to help them to
apply it to themselves.
I have been much blamed and censured by many, that
I should make it my practice, when I have been satisfied
concerning persons' good estate, to signify it to them. This
nas been greatly misrepresented abroad, as innumerable
other things concerning us, to prejudice the country against
the whole affair. But let it be noted, that what I have
undertaken to judge of, has rather been qualifications, and
declared experiences, than persons. Not but that I have
thought it my duty, as a pastor, to assist and instruct
persons in applying scripture-rules and characters to their
own case ; (in which, I think, many greatly need a guide ;)
and I have, where toe case appeared plain, used freedom
in signifying my hope of them to others. But I have been
far from doing this concerning all that I have had some
hopes of; and I believe have used much more caution
than many have supposed. Yet I should account it a
great calamity to be deprived of the comfort of rejoicing
with those of my flock, who have been in great distress,
whose circumstances I have been acquainted with, when
there seems to be good evidence that those who were dead
are alive, and that those who were lost are found. I am
sensible the practice would have been safer in the hands of
one of a riper judgment and greater experience : but yet,
there seemed to be an absolute necessity of it on the fore-
mentioned accounts ; and it has been found what God has
most remarkably owned and blessed amongst us, both to
the persons themselves, and to others.
Grace in many persons, through this ignorance of their
state, and their looking on themselves still as the objects
of God's displeasure, has been like the trees in winter, or
like seed in the spring suppressed under a hard clod of
earth. Many in such cases have laboured to their utmost
to divert their minds from the pleasing and joyful views
they have had, and to suppress those consolations and
gracious affections that arose thereupon. And when it has
once come into their minds to inquire, whether or no this
was not true grace, toey have been much afraid lest they
should be deceived with common illuminations and flashes
of affection, and eternally undone with a false hope. But
when they have been better instructed, and so brought to
allow of hope, this has awakened the gracious disposition
of their hearts into life and vigour, as the warm beams of
the sun in the spring have quickened the seeds and pro
ductions of the earth. Grace being now at liberty, and
cherished with hope, has soon flowed out to their abundant
satisfaction and increase.
There is no one thing that I know of which God has
made such a means of promoting his work amongst us, as
the news of others' conversion. This has been owned in
awakening sinners, engaging toem earnestly to seek the
same blessing, and in quickening saints. Though I have
thought that a minister declaring his judgment about par
ticular persons' experiences, might from these things be
justified ; yet I often signify to my people, how unable
man is to know another's heart, and how unsafe it is to de
pend merely on the judgment of others. I have abundantly
insisted, that a manifestation of sincerity in fruits brought
forth, is better than any manifestation they can make of it
in words alone : and that without this, all pretences to
2 a 2

3.5.5
spiritual experiences are vain. This all my congregation
can witness. And the people in general have manifested
an extraordinary dread of being deceived ; being exceed
ing fearful lest they should build wrong. Some of them
have been backward to receive hope, even to a great ex
treme, which has occasioned me to dwell longer on this
part of the narrative.
Conversion is a great and glorious work of God's power,
at once changing toe heart, and infusing life into toe dead
soul ; though the grace then implanted more gradually
displays itself in some than in others. But as to fixing
on the precise time when toey put forth the very first act
of grace, there is a great deal of difference in different
persons ; in some it seems to be very discernible when the
very time was ; but others are more at a loss. In this
respect, there are very many who do not know, even when
they have it, that it is the grace of conversion, and some
times do not think it to be so till a long time after. Many,
even when they come to entertain great hopes that they
are converted, if they remember what toey experienced in
the first exercises of grace, they are at a loss whether it
was any more than a common illumination ; or whether
some other more clear and remarkable experience which
they had afterwards, was not the first of a saving nature.
The manner of God's work on the soul, sometimes espe
cially, is very mysterious ; and it is with the kingdom of
God as to its manifestation in the heart of a convert, as is
said, Mark iv. 26, 27, 28. " So is the kingdom of God, as
if a man should cast seed into the ground, and should
sleep, and rise, night and day, and the seed should spring,
and grow up, he knoweth not how ; for the earth bringetn
forth of herself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full
corn in the ear."
In some, converting light is like a glorious brightness
suddenly shining upon a person, and all around him : they
are in a remarkable manner brought out of darkness into
marvellous light. In many others it has been like the
dawning of the day, when at first but a little light appears,
and it may be is presently hid with a cloud ; and then it
appears again, and shines a little brighter, and gradually
increases, with intervening darkness, till at length it breaks
forth more clearly from behind the clouds. And many
are, doubtless, ready to date toeir conversion wrong, throw
ing by those lesser degrees of light that appeared at first
dawning, and calling some more remarkable experience
they had afterwards, their conversion. This often, in a
great measure, arises from a wrong understanding of what
toey have always been taught, that conversion is a great
change, wherein old things are done away, and all things
become new, or at least from a false inference from that
doctrine. Persons commonly at first conversion, and afterwards,
have had many texts of Scripture brought to their minds,
which are exceeding suitable to their circumstances, often
come with great power, as the word of God or of Christ
indeed ; and many have a multitude of sweet invitations,
promises, and doxologies flowing in one after another,
bringing great light and comfort wito them, filling the soul
brimful, enlarging the heart, and opening the mouth in
religion. And it seems to me necessary to suppose, that.
there is an immediate influence of the Spirit of God,
oftentimes, in bringing texts of Scripture to the mind.
Not that I suppose it is done in a way of immediate reve
lation, without any use of the memory; but yet there
seems plainly to be an immediate and extraordinary influ
ence, in leading their thoughts to such and such passages
of Scripture, and exciting them in the memory. Indeed
in some, God seems to bring texts of scripture to their
minds no otherwise than by leading toem into such flames
and meditations, as harmonize with those scriptures ; but
in many persons there seems to be something more than
this. Those who, while under legal convictions, have had the
greatest terrors, have not always obtained the greatest light
and comfort ; nor have they always light most suddenly
communicated ; but yet, I think, the lime of conversion
has generally been most sensible in such persons. Often
times, toe first sensible change after the extremity of terrors,
is a calmness, and then the light gradually comes in ;
small glimpses at first, after their midnight darkness, rand a

356

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

word or two of comfort, as it were softly spoken to them.
They have a little taste of toe sweetness of divine grace,
and the love of a Saviour ; when terror and distress of
conscience begin to be turned into an humble, meek sense
of their own unworthiness before God. There is felt, in
wardly, sometimes a disposition to praise God ; and after
a little while the light comes in more clearly and power
fully. But yet, I think, more frequently, great terrors
have been followed with more sudden and great light and
comfort ; when the sinner seems to be as it were subdued
and brought to a calm, from a kind of tumult of mind, then
God lets in an extraordinary sense of his great mercy
through a Redeemer.
Converting influences very commonly bring an extraor
dinary conviction of the reality and certainty of the great
things of religion ; though in some this is much greater
some time after conversion, than at first. They have that
sight and taste of the divine excellency there is in the
gospel, which is more effectual to convince them, than
reading many volumes of arguments without it. It seems
to me, that in many instances, when the glory of christian
truths has been set before persons, and they have at the
same time as it were seen, and tasted, and felt the divinity
of them, they have been as far from doubting their truth,
as they are from doubting whether there be a sun, when
their eyes are open in the midst of a clear hemisphere, and
the strong blaze of his light overcomes all objections.
And yet, many of them, if we should ask them why they
believed those things to be true, would not be able well to
express or communicate a sufficient reason to satisfy toe
inquirer ; and perhaps would make no other answer but
that they see them to be true. But a person might soon be
satisfied, by a particular conversation with toem, that
what they mean by such an answer is, that they have in
tuitively beheld, and immediately felt, most illustrious and
powerful evidence of divinity in them.
Some are thus convinced of the truth of the gospel in
general, and that toe Scriptures are the word of God :
others have their minds more especially fixed on some
particular great doctrine of the gospel, some particular
truths that they are meditating on, or reading of, in some
portion of Scripture. Some have such convictions in a
much more remarkable manner than others : and there are
some who never had such a special sense of the certainty
of divine things impressed upon them, with such inward
evidence and strength, have yet very clear exercises of
grace ; i. e. of love to God, repentance, and holiness. And
if they be more particularly examined, toey appear plainly
to have an inward firm persuasion of the reality of divine
things, such as they did not use to have before their con
version. And those who have the most clear discoveries
of divine truth, in the manner that has been mentioned,
cannot have this always in view. When the sense and
relish of the divine excellency of these things fades, on a
withdrawment of the Spirit of God, toey nave not the
medium of the conviction of their truth at command. In
a dull frame, toey cannot recall the idea and inward sense
they had, perfectly to mind ; things appear very dim to
what they did before. And though there still remains an
habitual strong persuasion; yet not so as to exclude
temptations to unbelief, and all possibility of doubting.
But then, at particular times, by God's help, the same
sense of things revives again, like' fire that lay hid in ashes.
I suppose the grounds of such a conviction of the truth
of divine things to be just and rational ; but yet, in some,
God makes use of their own reason much more sensibly
than in others. Oftentimes persons have (so far as could
be judged) received the first saving conviction from reason
ing which they have heard from the pulpit ; and often
in toe course of reasoning they are led into in their own
meditations. The arguments are the same that they have heard hun
dreds of times ; but the force of the arguments, and their
conviction by them, is altogether new ; they come with a
new and before unexperienced power. Before, they heard
it was so, and they allowed it to be so ; but now toey see
it to be so indeed. Things now look exceeding plain to
them, and they wonder they did not see them before.
They are sp greatly taken with their new discovery, and
things appear so plain and so rational to them, that they

are often at first ready to think they can convince others ;
and are apt to engage in talk with every one they meet
wito, almost to this end ; and when they are disappointed,
are ready to wonder that their reasonings seem to make no
more impression.
Many fall under such a mistake as to be ready to doubt
of their good estate, because there was so much use made
of their own reason in the convictions they have received ;
they are afraid that they have no illumination above the
natural force of their own faculties : and many make toat
an objection against the spirituality of their convictions,
that it is so easy to see things as they now see them. They
have often heard, that conversion is a work of mighty
power, manifesting to the soul what neither man nor
angel can give such a conviction of; but it seems to them
that these things are so plain and easy, and rational, that
any body can see them. If they are asked, why they
never saw thus before ; they say, it seems to them it was.
because they never thought of "it. But very often these
difficulties are soon removed by those of another nature ;
for when God withdraws, they "find themselves as it were
blind again, they for the present lose their realizing 6ense
of those things that looked so plain to them, and, by all
they can do, they cannot recover it, till God renews the in
fluences of his Spirit.
Persons after their conversion often speak of religious
things as seeming new to them ; that preaching is a new
thing ; that it seems to them they never heard preaching
before ; that toe Bible is a new book : they find there new
chapters, new psalms, new histories, because they see them
in a new light. Here was a remarkable instance of an
aged woman, of above seventy years, who had spent most
of her days under Mr. Stoddard's powerful ministry.
Reading in the New Testament concerning Christ's suffer
ings for sinners, she seemed to be astonished at- what she
read, as what was real and very wonderful, but quite new
to her. At first, before she had time to turn her thoughts,
she wondered within herself, that she had never heard of
it before ; but then immediately recollected herself, and
thought she had often heard of it, and read it, but never
till now saw it as real. She then cast in her mind, how
wonderful this was, that the Son of God should undergo
such things for sinners, and how she had spent her time
in ungratefully sinning against so good a God, and such a
Saviour ; though she was a person, apparently, of a very
blameless and inoffensive life. And she was so overcome
by those considerations, that her nature was ready to fail
under them : those who were about her, and knew not
what was the matter, were surprised, and thought she was
a dying. Many have spoken much of their hearts being drawn
out in love to God and Christ ; and of their minds being
wrapt up in delightful contemplation of the glory and
wonderful grace of God, the excellency and dying love of
Jesus Christ; and of their souls going forth in longing
desires after God and Christ. Several of our young
children have expressed much of this ; and have mani
fested a willingness to leave father and mother and all
things in the world, to go and be with Christ. Some
persons having had such longing desires after Christ, or
which have risen to such degree, as to take away thei
natural strength. Some have been so overcome with a
sense of the dying love of Christ, to such poor, wretched,
and unworthy creatures, as to weaken toe body. Several
persons have had so great a sense of the glory of God, and
excellency of Christ, that nature and life seemed almost to
sink under it ; and in all probability, if God had showed
them a little more of .himself, it would have dissolved their
frame. .1 have seen some, and conversed with them in
such frames, who have certainly been perfectly sober, and
very remote from any thing like enthusiastic wildness.
And they have talked, when able to speak, of the glory of
God's perfections, the wonderfulness of his grace in Christ,
and their own unworthiness, in such a manner as cannot
be perfectly expressed after them. Their sense of their
exceeding littleness and vileness, and their disposition to
abase themselves before God, has appeared to be great in
proport ion to their light and joy.
Such persons amongst us as have been thus distinguished
with the most extraordinary discoveries, have commonly

Sect. II.

THE MANNER OF CONVERSION VARIOUS.

357

nowise appeared with the assuming, self-conceited, and
self-sufficient airs of enthusiasts ; but exceedingly the
contrary. They are eminent for a spirit of meekness,
modesty, self-diffidence, and a low opinion of themselves.
No persons appear so sensible of their need of instruction,
and so eager to receive it, as some of them ; nor so ready
to think others better than themselves. Those that have
been considered as converted amongst us, have generally
manifested a longing to lie low, and in the dust before
God ; withal complaining of their not being able to lie
low enough.
They speak much of their sense of excellency in the
way of salvation by free and sovereign grace, through toe
righteousness of Christ alone ; and how it is with delight
that they renounce their own righteousness, and rejoice in
having no account made of it. Many have expressed
themselves to this purpose, that it would lessen the satis
faction toey hope for in heaven to have it by their own
righteousness, or in any other way than as bestowed by
free grace, and for Christ's sake alone. They speak much
of toe inexpressibleness of what they experience, how
their words fail, so that they cannot declare it. And par
ticularly they speak with exceeding admiration of the su
perlative excellency of that pleasure and delight which
they sometimes enjoy ; how a little of it is sufficient to
pay them for all the pains and trouble they have gone
through in seeking salvation ; and how far it exceeds all
earthly pleasures. Some express much of the sense which
these spiritual views give them of the vanity of earthly
enjoyments, how mean and worthless all these things ap
pear to them.
Many, while their minds have been filled with spiritual
delights, have as it were forgot their food ; their bodily ap
petite has failed, while their minds have been entertained
with meat to eat that others knew not of. The light and
comfort which some of them enjoy, give a new relish to
toeir common blessings, and cause all things about them to
appear as it were Deautiful, sweet, and pleasant. All
things abroad, the sun, moon, and stars, the clouds and
sky, toe heavens and earth, appear as it were with a cast
of divine glory and sweetness upon them. Though this
joy include in it a delightful sense of the safety of their
own state, yet frequently, in times of their highest spiritual
entertainment, this seems not to be the chief object of their
fixed thought and meditation. The supreme attention of
their minds is to toe glorious excellencies of God and
Christ ; and there is very often a ravishing sense of God's
love accompanying a sense of his excellency. They re
joice in a sense of "the faithfulness of God's promises, as
they respect the future, eternal enjoyment of him.
The unparalleled joy that many of them speak of, is
what toey find when they are lowest in the dust, emptied
most of themselves, and as it were annihilating themselves
before God ; when they are nothing, and Godis all ; see
ing their own unworthiness, depending not at all on them
selves, but alone on Christ, and ascribing all glory to God.
Then their souls are most in the enjoyment of satisfying
rest ; excepting that, at such times, they apprehend them
selves to be not sufficiently self-abased ; for then above
all times do they long to be lower. Some speak much of
the exquisite sweetness, and rest of soul, that is to be
found in toe exercise of resignation to God, and humble
submission to his will. Many express earnest longings of
soul to praise God ; but at the same time complain that
they cannot praise him as they would, and they want to
have others help toem in praising him. They want to
have every one praise God, and are ready to call upon
every thing to praise him. They express a longing desire
to live to God's glory, and to do something to his honour ;
but at the same time complain of their insufficiency and
barrenness; that they are poor and impotent creutures, can
do nothing of themselves, and are utterly insufficient to
glorify their 'Creator and Redeemer.
While God was so remarkably present amongst us by
his Spirit, there was no book so delightful as the Bible ;
especially the Book of Psalms, the Prophecy of Isaiah,
and the New Testament. Some, by reason of their love
to God's word, at times, have been wonderfully delighted
and affected at the sight of a Bible ; and then, also, there
was no time so prized as the Lord's day, and no place in

this world so desired as God's house. Our converts then
remarkably appeared united in dear affection to one ano
ther, and many have expressed much of that spirit of love
which toey felt toward all mankind ; and particularly to
those who had been least friendly to toem. Never, I be
lieve, was so much done in confessing injuries, and
making up differences, as the last year. Persons, after
their own conversion, have commonly expressed an ex
ceeding great desire for the conversion of others. Some
have thought that they should be willing to die for the
conversion of any soul, though of one of the meanest of
their fellow-creatures, or of their worst enemies ; and
many have, indeed, been in great distress with desires and
longings for it. This work of God had also a good
effect to unite the people's affections much to their
minister. There are some persons whom I have been acquainted
with, but more especially two, that belong to other towns,
who have been swallowed up exceedingly with a sense of
the awful greatness and majesty of God; and both of
them told me to this purpose, that if at the time, they
had entertained the least fear toat they were not at peace
with this so great a God, they should certainly have died.
It is worthy to be remarked, that some persons, by their
conversion, seem to be greatly helped as to their doctrinal
notions of religion. It was particularly remarkable in
one, who, having been taken captive in his childhood, was
trained up in Canada, in the popish religion. Some years
since he returned to this his native place, and was in a
measure brought off from popery ; but seemed very awk
ward and dull in receiving any clear notion of the pro
testant scheme, till he was converted ; and then he was
remarkably altered in this respect.
There is a vast difference, as observed, in the degree, and
also in the particular manner, of persons' experiences, both
at and after conversion ; some have grace working more
sensibly in one way, others in another. Some speak more
fully of a conviction of the justice of God in their con
demnation ; others, more of their consenting to the way
of salvation by Christ ; and some, more of the actings of
love to God and Christ. Some more of acts of affiance,
in a sweet and assured conviction of the truth and faith
fulness of God in his promises ; others, more of their
choosing and resting in God, as their whole and everlast
ing portion ; and of their ardent and longing desire after
God, to have communion wito him ; and others, more of
their abhorrence to themselves for their past sins, and
earnest longings to live to God's glory for toe time to
come. But it seems evidently to be the same work, toe
same habitual change wrought in the heart ; it all tends the
same way, and to the same end ; and it is plainly the same
spirit that breathes and acts in various persons. There is
an endless variety in the particular manner and circum
stances in which persons are wrought on ; and an oppor
tunity of seeing so much will show, that God is further
from confining himself to a particular method in his work
on souls, than some imagine. I believe it has occasioned
some good people amongst us, who were before too ready
to make their own experience a rule to others, to be less
censorious and more extended in their charity ; and this is
an excellent advantage indeed. The work of God has been
glorious in its variety ; it has the more displayed the mani
fold and unsearchable wisdom of God, and wrought more
charity among his people.
There is a great difference among those who are con
verted, as to the degree of hope and satisfaction they have
concerning their own stale. Some have a high degree of
satisfaction in this matter almost constantly ; and yet it is
rare that any enjoy so full an assurance of their interest in
Christ, that self-examination should seem needless to them ;
unless it be at particular seasons, while in the actual en
joyment of some great discovery God gives of his glory
and rich grace in Christ, to the drawing forth of extraordi
nary acts of grace. But the greater part, as they sometimes
fall into dead frames of spirit, are frequently exercised with
scruples and fears concerning their condition.
They generally have an awful apprehension of the dread
ful nature of a false hope ; and there has been observable
in most a great caution, lest in giving an account of their
experiences, they should say too much, and use too strong

358

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

terms. Many, after they have related their experiences,
have been greatly afflicted with fears, lest they have play
ed the hypocrite, and used stronger terms than their case
would fairly allow of; and yet could not find how they
could correct themselves.
I think the main ground of the doubts and fears, that
persons after their conversion have been exercised with,
about their own state, has been, that they have found so
much corruption remaining in their hearts. At first, their
souls seem to be all alive, their hearts are fixed, and their
affections flowing ; they seem to live quite above the world,
and meet with but little difficulty in religious exercises;
and they are ready to think it will always be so. Though
they are truly abased under a sense of their vileness, by
reason of former acts of sin; yet they are not then suffi
ciently sensible, what corruption still remains in their
hearts ; and therefore, are surprised when they find that
they begin to be in dull and dead frames, troubled with
wandering thoughts at the time of public and private wor
ship, and utterly unable to keep themselves from them.
When they find themselves unaffected, while yet there is
the greatest occasion to be affected ; and when they feel
worldly dispositions working in them — pride, envy, stir
rings of revenge, or some ill spirit towards some person
that has injured them, as well as other workings of in
dwelling sin — their hearts are almost sunk with the disap
pointment; and they are ready presently to think that they
are mere hypocrites.
They are ready to argue, If God had, indeed, done such
great things for them, as they hoped, such ingratitude would
be inconsistent with it. They complain of the hardness and
wickedness of their hearts ; and say there is so much cor
ruption, that it seems to them impossible there should be any
goodness there. Many of them seem to be much more
sensible how corrupt their hearts are, than before they were
converted ; and some have been too ready to be impressed
with fear, that instead of becoming better, thev are grown
much worse, and make it an argument against the goodness
of their state. But in truth, the case seems plainly to be,
that now they feel the pain of their own wound ; they have
a watchful eye upon their hearts, that they did not use to
have. They take more notice of what sin is there, which
is now more burdensome to them ; they strive more against
it, and feel more of its strength.
They are somewhat surprised that they should in this
respect find themselves so different from the idea they
generally had entertained of godly persons. For, though
grace be indeed of a far more excellent nature than they
imagined ; yet, those who are godly have much less of it,
and much more remaining corruption, than they thought.
They never realized it, that persons were wont to meet
with such difficulties, after they were once converted.
When they are thus exercised with doubts about their
state, through the deadness of their frames ; as long as these
frames last, they are commonly unable to satisfy them
selves of the truth of their grace, by all their self-examina
tion. When they hear ofthe signs of grace laid down for
them to try themselves by, they are often so clouded, that
they do not know how to apply them. They hardly know
whether they have such and such things or no, and
whether they have experienced them or not. That which
was the sweetest, best, and most distinguishing in their ex
periences, they cannot recover a sense of. But on a return
of tbe influences of the Spirit of God, to revive the lively
actings of grace, the light breaks through the cloud, and
doubting and darkness soon vanish away.
Persons are often revived out of their dead and dark
frames, by religious conversation : while they are talking of
divine things, or ever they are aware, their souls are carried
away into holy exercises with abundant pleasure. And
oftentimes, while relating their past experiences to their
christian brethren, they have a sense of them revived, and
the same experiences in a degree again renewed. Some
times, while persons are exercised in mind with several ob
jections against the goodness of their state, they have
scriptures one after another coming to their minds, to an
swer their scruples, and unravel their difficulties, exceed
ingly apposite and proper to their circumstances. By
these means, their darkness is scattered ; and often, before
the bestowment of any new remarkable comforts, especial

ly after long-continued deadness and ill frames, there are
renewed humblings, in a great sense of their own exceeding
vileness and unworthiness, as before their first comforts
were bestowed.
Many in the country have entertained a mean thought
of this great work, from what they have beard of impres
sions made on persons' imaginations. But there have been
exceeding great misrepresentations, and innumerable false
reports, concerning that matter. ¦ It is not, that I know of,
the profession or opinion of any one person in the town, that
any weight is to be laid on any thing seen with the bodily
eyes. I know the contrary to' be a received and establish
ed principle amongst us. I cannot say that there have
been no instances of persons who have been ready to give
too much heed to vain and useless imaginations; but they
have been easily corrected, and I conclude it will not be
wondered at, that a congregation should need a guide in
such cases, to assist them in distinguishing wheat from
chaff. But such impressions on the imaginations as have
been more usual, seem to me to be plainly no other than
what is to be expected in human nature in such circum
stances, and what is the natural result of the strong exer
cise ofthe mind, and impressions on the heart.
I do not suppose, that they themselves imagined they
saw any thing with their bodily eyes ; but only have had
within them ideas strongly impressed, and as it were lively
pictures in their minds. For instance, some when in great
terrors, through fear of hell, have had lively ideas of a
dreadful furnace. Some, when their hearts have been
strongly impressed, and their affections greatly moved with
a sense of the beauty and excellency of Christ, have had
their imaginations so wrought upon, that, together with a
sense of his glorious spiritual perfections, there has arisen
in the mind an idea of one of glorious majesty, and of a
sweet and gracious aspect. Some, when they have been
greatly affected with Christ's death, have at the same time
a lively idea of Christ hanging upon the cross, and his
blood running'from his wounds. Surely such things will
not be wondered at by them who have observed, how
any strong affections about temporal matters will ex
cite lively ideas and pictures of different things in the
mind. The vigorous exercises of the mind, doubtless, more
strongly impress it with imaginary ideas in some than
others, which probably may arise from the difference of
constitution, and seems evidently in some, partly to arise
from their peculiar circumstances. When persons have
been exercised with extreme terrors, and there is a sudden
change to light and joy, the imagination seems more sus
ceptive of strong ideas ; the inferior powers, and even the
frame of the body, are much more affected, than when the
same persons have as great spiritual light and joy after
wards ; of which it might, perhaps, be easy to give a rea
son. The forementioned Reverend Messrs. Lord and
Owen — who, I believe, are esteemed persons of learning
and discretion where they are best known — declared, that
they found these impressions on persons' imaginations quite
different things from what fame had before represented to
them, and that they were what none need to wonder at —
or to that purpose.
There have indeed been some few instances of im
pressions on persons' imaginations, which have been some
what mysterious to me, and I have been at a loss about
them . For, though it has been exceeding evident to me,
by many things that appeared both then and afterwards,
that toey indeed had a greater sense of the spiritual ex
cellency of divine things accompanying them ; yet I have
not been able well to satisfy myself, whether their ima
ginary ideas have been more than could naturally arise
from their spiritual sense of things. However, I have
used toe utmost caution in such cases ; great care has
been taken both in public and in private to teach persons
the difference between what is spiritual and what is merely
imaginary. I have often warned persons not to lay the
stress of their hope on any ideas of any outward glory,
or any external thing whatsoever, and have met with no
opposition in such instructions. But it is not strange if
some weaker persons, in giving an account of their ex
periences, have not so prudently distinguished between
the spiritual and imaginary part ; of which some who

Sect. III.

ILLUSTRATED IN PARTICULAR INSTANCES.

359

have not been well affected to religion might take ad
vantage. There has been much talk in many parts of the country,
as though the people have symbolized with the quakers, and
the quakers themselves have been moved with such reports ;
and some came here, once and again, hoping to find good
waters to fish in ; but without the least success, and have
left off coming. There have also been reports spread
about the country, as though the first occasion of so re
markable a concern was an apprehension that the world
was near to an end; which was altogether a false report.
Indeed, after this concern became so general and extraor
dinary, as related, the minds of some were filled with spe
culation, what so great a dispensation of Divine Provi
dence might forebode ; and some reports were heard from
abroad, as though certain divines and others thought the
conflagration was nigh ; but such reports were never ge
nerally looked upon worthy of notice.
The work which has now been wrought on souls, is
evidently the same that was wrought in my venerable pre
decessor's days ; as I have had abundant opportunity to
know, having been in the ministry here two years with
him, and so conversed with a considerable number whom
my grandfather thought to be savingly converted at that
time ; and having been particularly acquainted v, ith the
experiences of many who were converted under his minis
try before. And I know no one of them, who in the
least doubts of its being the same spirit and the same
work. Persons have now no otherwise been subject to
impressions on their imaginations than formerly : the
work is of the same nature, and has not been attended
with any extraordinary circumstances, excepting such as
are analogous to the extraordinary degree of it before de
scribed. And God's people who were formerly con
verted, have now partaken of the same shower of divine
blessing — in the renewing, strengthening, edifying influ
ences of the Spirit of God — that others have in his con
verting influences ; and the work here has also been plainly
the same with that of other places which have been men
tioned, as partaking of the same blessing. I have parti
cularly conversed with persons, about their experiences,
who belong to all parts ofthe country, and in various parts
of Connecticut, where a religious concern has lately ap
peared ; and have been informed of the experiences of
many others by their own pastors.
It is easily perceived by the foregoing account, that it
is very much the practice of the people here, to converse
freely one with another about their spiritual experiences ;
which many have been disgusted at. But however our
people may have, in some respects, gone to extremes in it,
it is, doubtless, a practice that the circumstances of this
town, and neighbouring towns, have naturally led them
into. Whatsoever people have their minds engaged to
such a degree in the same affair, that it is ever uppermost
in their thoughts, they will naturally make it the subject
of conversation when they get together, in which they will
grow more and more free. Restraints will soon vanish ;
and they will not conceal from one another what they
meet with. And it has been a practice which, in toe ge
neral, has been attended with many good effects, and
what God has greatly blessed amongst us : but it must
be confessed, there may have been some ill consequences
of it ; which yet are rather to be laid to the indiscreet
management of it than to tbe practice itself; and none can
wonder, if among such a multitude some fail of exercising
so much prudence in choosing the time, manner, and oc
casion of such discourse, as is desirable.

SECT. III.
This work further illustrated in particular instances.
But to give a clear idea of the nature and manner of
the operation of God's Spirit, in this wonderful effusion of
it, I would give an account of two particular instances.
The first is an adult person, a young woman whose name
was Abigail Hutchinson. I fix upon her especially,
because she is now dead, and so it may be more fit to
speak freely of her than of living instances : though I am

under far greater disadvantages, on other accounts, to give
a full and clear narrative of her experiences, than I might
of some others ; nor can any account be given but what
has been retained in the memories of her friends, of what
they have heard her express in her lifetime.
She was of an intelligent family : there could be nothing
in her education that tended to enthusiasm, but rather to
the contrary extreme. It is in nowise the temper of the
family to be ostentatious of experiences, and it was far
from being her temper. She was before her conversion,
to the observation of her neighbours, of a sober and inof
fensive conversation ; and was a still, quiet, reserved per
son. She had long been infirm of body, but her infirmity
had never been observed at all to incline her to be no
tional or fanciful, or to occasion any thing of religious
melancholy. She was under awakenings scarcely a week,
before there seemed to be plain evidence of her being
savingly converted.
She was first awakened in the winter season, on Mon
day, by something she heard her brother say of the neces
sity of being in good earnest in seeking regenerating grace,
together with the news of the conversion of the young
woman before mentioned, whose conversion so generally
affected most of the young people here. This news
wrought much upon her, and stirred up a spirit of envy
in her towards this young woman, whom she thought very
unworthy of being distinguished from others by such a
mercy ; but withal it engaged her in a firm resolution to
do her utmost to obtain the same blessing. Considering
with herself what course she should take, she thought,
that she had not a sufficient knowledge of the principles
of religion, to render her capable of conversion ; where
upon she resolved thoroughly to search the Scriptures ;
and accordingly immediately began at the beginning of the
Bible, intending to read it through. She continued thus
till Thursday : and then there was a sudden alteration, by
a great increase of her concern, in an extraordinary, sense
of her own sinfulness, particularly the sinfulness of her
nature, and wickedness of her heart. This came upon her,
as she expressed it, as a flash of lightning, and struck her
into an exceeding terror. Upon which she left off reading
the Bible, in course, as she had begun ; and turned to the
New Testament, to see if she could not find some relief
there for her distressed soul.
Her great terror, she said, was, that she had sinned
against God : her distress grew more and more for three
days ; until she saw nothing but blackness of darkness be
fore her, and her very flesh trembled for fear of God's
wrath : she wondered and was astonished at herself, that
she had been so concerned for her body, and had applied so
often to physicians to heal that, and had neglected her soul.
Her sinfulness appeared with a very awful aspect to her,
especially in three things ; viz. her original sin, and her
sin in murmuring at God's providence — in the weakness
and afflictions she had been under — and in want of duty
to parents, though others had looked upon her to excel in
dutifulness. On Saturday, she was so earnestly engaged
in reading the Bible and other books, that she continued
in it, searching for something to relieve her, till her eyes
were so dim, that she could not know the letters. While
she was thus engaged in reading, prayer, and other reli
gious exercises, she thought of those words of Christ,
wherein he warns us not to be as the heathen, that think
they shalt be heard for their much speaking ; which, she
said, led her to see that she had trusted to her own prayers
and religious performances, and now she was put to a
nonplus, and knew not which way to turn herself, or
where to seek relief.
While her mind was in this posture, her heart, she said,
seemed to fly to the minister for refuge, hoping, that he
could give her some relief. She came the same day to her
brother, with the countenance of a person in distress, ex
postulating with him, why he had not told her more of
her sinfulness, and earnestly inquiring of him what she
should do. She seemed that day to feel in herself ,an
enmity against the Bible, which greatly affrighted her.
Her sense of her own exceeding sinfulness continued in
creasing from Thursday till Monday and she gave this
account of it : That it had been her opinion, till now, she
was not guilty of Adam's sin, nor any way concerned in

360

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

it, because she was not active in it ; but that now she saw
she was guilty of toat sin, and all over defiled by it ; and
the sin which she brought into the world with her, was
alone sufficient to condemn her.
On the Sabbath-day she was so ill, that her friends
thought it not best that she should go to public worship,
of which she seemed very desirous : but when she went
to bed on the Sabbath night, she took up a resolution, that
she would the next morning go to the minister, hoping to
find some relief there. As she awaked on Monday morning,
a little before day, she wondered within herself at toe
easiness and calmness she felt in her mind, which was of
that kind she never felt before. As she thought of this,
such words as these were in her mind : The words of the
Lord are pure words, health to the soul, and marrow to the
bones : and then these words, The blood of Christ cleanses
from all sin ; which were accompanied with a lively
sense of the excellency of Christ, and his sufficiency to
satisfy for the sins of the whole world. She then thought
of that expression, It is a pleasant thing for the eyes to be
hold the sun ; which words then seemed to her to oe very
applicable to Jesus Christ. By these things her mind was
led into such contemplations and views of Christ, as filled
her exceeding full of joy. She told her brother, in the
morning, that she had seen (i. e. in realizing views by
faith) Christ the last night, and that she had really thought
that she had not knowledge enough to be converted ; but,
says she, God can make it quite easy ! On Monday she
felt all day a constant sweetness in her soul. She had a
repetition of the same discoveries of Christ three mornings
together, and much in toe same manner, at each time,
waking a little before day; but brighter and brighter
every day.
At the last time, on Wednesday morning, while in the
enjoyment of a spiritual view of Christ's glory and fulness,
her soul was filled with distress for Christless persons, to
consider what a miserable condition they were in. She
felt a strong inclination immediately to go forth to warn
sinners ; and proposed it the next day to her brother to
assist her in going from house to house ; but her brother
restrained her, by telling her of toe unsuitableness of such
a method. She told one of her sisters that day, that she
loved all mankind, but especially the people, of God. Her
sister asked her, Why she loved all mankind ? She re
plied, Because God hud made them. After this, there
Happened to come into the shop where she was at work,
three persons who were thought to have been lately con
verted : her seeing of them, as they stepped in one after
another, so affected her, and so drew forth her love to
them, that it overcame her, and she almost fainted. When
they began to talk of the things of religion, it was more
than she could bear ; they were obliged to cease on that
account. It was a very frequent thing with her to be
overcome wito a- flow of affection to them whom she
thought godly, in conversation with them, and sometimes
only at the sight of them.
She had many extraordinary discoveries of the glory of
God and Christ ; sometimes, in some particular attributes,
and sometimes iu many. She gave an account, that once,
as those four words passed through her mind, wisdom,
justice, goodness, and truth, her soul was filled with a
sense of the glory of each of these divine attributes, but
especially the last. Truth, said she, sunk the deepest !
And, therefore, as these words passed, this was repeated,
truth, truth ! Her mind was so swallowed up with a
sense of the glory of God's truth and other perfections, that
she said, it seemed as though her life, was going, and that
she saw it was easy with God to take away her life by dis
coveries of himself. Soon after this she went to a private
religious meeting, and her mind was full of a sense and
view of the glory of God all the time. When the exercise
was ended, some asked her concerning what she had ex
perienced ; and she began to give an account, but as she
was relating it, it revived such a sense of the same things,
that her strength failed ; and they were obliged to take her
and lay her upon the bed. Afterwards she was greatly
affected, and rejoiced with these words, Worthy is the
Lamb that was slain !
She had several days together a sweet sense of the ex
cellency and loveliness of Christ in his meekness, which

disposed her continually to be repeating over these words,
which were sweet to her, meek and lowly in heart,
meek and lowly in heart. She once expressed herself
to one of her sisters to this purpose, toat she had con
tinued whole days and whole nights, in a constant ravish
ing view of the glory of God and Chriit, having enjoyed
as much as her tfie could bear. Once, as her brother was
speaking of the dying love of Christ, she told him, she
had such a sense of it, that the mere mentioning of it was
ready to overcome her.
Once, when she came to me, she said, that at such and
such a time, she thought she saw as much of God, and had
as much joy and pleasure, as was possible in this life ; and
that yet, a"fterwards, God discovered himself far more
abundantly. She saw the same things as before, yet more
clearly, and in a far more excellent and delightful manner ;
and was filled with a more exceeding sweetness. She
likewise gave me such an account of the sense she once
had, from day to day, of the glory of Christ, and of God,
in his various attributes, that it seemed to me she dwelt
for days together in a kind of beatific vision of God ; and
seemed to have, as I thought, as immediate an intercourse
with him, as a child with a father. At the same time, she
appeared most remote from any high thought of herself,
and of her own sufficiency ; but was like a little child,
and expressed a great desire to be instructed, telling me
toat she longed very often to come to me for instruction,
and wanted to live at my house, that I might tell her what
was her duty.
She often expressed a sense of the glory of God appear
ing in the trees, the growth of the fields, and other works
of God's hands. She told her sister who lived near the
heart of the town, toat she once thought it a pleasant thing
to live in the middle of the town, but now, says she, I
think it much more pleasant to sit and see the wind blowing
the trees, and to behold in the country what God has made.
She had sometimes the powerful breathings of the Spirit of
God on her soul, while reading the Scripture ; and would
express her sense of the certain truth and divinity thereof.
She sometimes would appear with a pleasant smile on her
countenance ; and once, when her sister took notice of
it, and asked why she smiled, she replied, I am brim-full
of a sweet feeling within ! She often used to express now
good and sweet it was to lie low before God, and the lower
(says she) the better ! and that it was pleasant to think of
tiling in the dust, all the days of her life, mourning for sin.
She was wont to manifest a great sense of her own. mean
ness and dependence. She often expressed an exceeding
compassion, and pitiful love,.which she found in her heart
towards persons in a Christless condition. This was
sometimes so strong, toat, as she was passing by such in
the streets, or those that she feared were such, she would
be overcome by the sight of them. She once said, that she
longed to have the whole world saved, she wanted, as it
were, to pull them all to her; she could not bear to have
one lost.
She had great longings to die, that she might be with
Christ : which increased until she thought she did not
know how to be patient to wait till God's time. But once,
when she felt those longings, she thought with herself, If
I long to die, why do I go to physicians ? Whence she
concluded that her longings for death were not well re
gulated. After this she often put it to herself, which she
should choose, whether to live or to die, to be sick or to be
well ; and she found she could not tell, till at last she
found herself disposed to say these words ; I am quite
willing to live, and quite willing to die ; quite willing to
be sick, and quite willing to be well ; and quite willing for-
any thing that God will bring upon me! And then, said
she, I felt myself perfectly easy, in a full submission to
the will of God. She then lamented much, that she had
been so eager in her longings for death, as it argued want
of such a resignation to God as ought to be. She seemed
henceforward to continue in this resigned frame till death.
After this, her illness increased upon her : and once
after she had before spent the greater part of toe night in
extreme pain, she waked out of a little sleep with these
words in her heart and mouth ; I am willing to suffer for
Christ's sake, I am willing to spend, and be spent for Christ's
sake ; I am willing to spend my life, even my very life, for

Sect. III.

ILLUSTRATED IN PARTICULAR INSTANCES.

Christ's sake ! And though she had an extraordinary re
signation, wito respect to life or death, yet the thoughts
of dying were exceeding sweet to her. At a time when
her brother was reading m Job, concerning worms feeding
on the dead body, she appeared with a pleasant smile ;
and being asked about it, she said, It was sweet to her to
think of tier being in such circumstances. At another
time, when her brother mentioned the danger there seemed
to be, that the illness she laboured under, might be an
occasion of her death, it filled her with joy that almost
overcame her. At another time, when she met a company
following a corpse to the grave, she said, it was sweet to
her to think, that they would in a little time follow her in
like manner.
Her illness, in the latter part of it, was seated much in
her throat ; and an inward swelling filled up the pipe, so
that she could swallow nothing but what was perfectly
liquid, and but very little of that, with gi'eat and long
stragglings. That which she took in fled out at her nos
trils, till at last she could swallow nothing at all. She
had a raging appetite for food ; so that she told her sister,
when talking with her about her circumstances, that the
worst bit would be sweet to her ; but yet, when she saw
that she could not swallow it, she seemed to be as perfectly
contented without it, as if she had no appetite. Others
were greatly moved to see what she underwent, and were
filled wito admiration at her unexampled patience. At a
time when she was striving in vain to get down a little of
something liquid, and was very much spent with it ; she
looked up on her sister with a smile, saying, O sister, this
- is for my good ! At another time, when her sister was
speaking of what she underwent, she told her, that she
lived a heaven upon earth for all that. She used sometimes
to say to her sister, under her extreme sufferings, It is good
to be so ! Her sister once asked her, why . she said so ;
why, says she, because God would have it so : it is best that
things should be as God would have them : it looks best to
me. After her confinement, as they were leading her from
the bed to the door, she seemed overcome by the sight of
things abroad, as showing forth the glory of the Being
who had made them. As she lay on her death-bed, she
would often say these words, God is my friend! And
once looking upon her sister, with a smile, said, O sister,
How good it is ! How sweet and comfortable it is to con
sider, and think of heavenly things ! and used this argu
ment to persuade her sister to be much in such meditations.
She expressed, on her death-bed, an exceeding longing,
both for persons in a natural state, that they might be con
verted ; and for the godly, that they might see and know
more of God. And when those who looked on themselves
as in a Christless state came to see her, she would be
greatly moved with compassionate affection. One in par
ticular, who seemed to be in great distress about the state
of her soul, and had come to see her from time to time,
she desired her sister to persuade not to come any more,
because the sight of her so wrought on her compassions,
toat it overcame her nature. The same week that she died,
when she was in distressing circumstances as to her body,
some of the neighbours who came to see her, asked if she
was willing to die ? She replied, that she was quite willing
either to live or die ; she was willing to be in pain ; she was
willing to be so always as she was then, if that was the will
of God. She willed what God willed. They asked her
whether she was willing to die that night? She answered,
Yes, if it be God's will. And seemed to speak all with
that perfect composure of spirit, and wito such a cheerful
and pleasant countenance, that it filled them with admi
ration. She was very weak a considerable time before she died,
having pined away with famine and thirst, so that her flesh
seemed to be dried upon her bones ; and therefore could
say but little, and manifested her mind very much by
signs. She said she had matter enough to fill up all her
time with talk, if she had but strength. A few days before
her death, some asked her, Whether she held her integrity
still? Whether she was not afraid if death? she answered
to this purpose, that she had not the least degree of fear
of death. They asked her why she would be so confident?
* She was living in March, 1789, and maintained the character of a true

36 t
She answered, If I should say otherwise, I should speak
contrary to what I know. There is, said she, indeed, a
dark entry, that looks something dark, but on the other side
there appears such a bright shining light, that I cannot be
afraid ! She said not long before she died, that she used
to be afraid how she should grapple with death ; But, says
she, God has showed me that lie can make it easy in great
pain. Several days before she died, she could scarcely
say any thing but just Yes, and No, to questions that were
asked her ; for she seemed to be dying for three days to
gether. But seemed to continue in an admirably sweet
composure of soul, without any interruption, to the last ;
and died as a person that went to sleep, without any
struggling, about noon, on Friday, June 27, 1735.
She had long been infirm, and often had been exercised
with great pain ; but she died chiefly of famine. It was,
doubtless, partly owing to her bodily weakness, that her
nature was so often overcome, and ready to sink with
gracious affection ; but yet the truth was, that she had
more grace, and greater discoveries of God and Christ,
than the present frail state did well consist with. She
wanted to be where strong grace might have more liberty,
and be without the clog of a weak body ; there she longed
to be, and there she doubtless now is. She was looked
upon amongst us, as a very eminent instance of christian
experience ; but this is but a very broken and imperfect
account I have given of her : her eminency would much
more appear, if her experiences were fully related, as she
was wont to express, and manifest them, while living. I
once read this account to some of her pious neighbours,
who were acquainted with her, who said, to this purpose,
that the picture fell much short of the life ; and particu
larly that it much failed of duly representing her humility,
and that admirable lowliness of heart, that at all times
appeared in her. But there are, blessed be God ! many
living instances, of much the like nature, and in some
things no less extraordinary.
But I now proceed to the other instance, that of the
little child before mentioned. Her name is Phebe Bartlet,*
daughter of William Bartlet. I shall give the account
as I took it from the mouth of her parents, whose veracity
none who know them doubt of.
She was born in March, 1731. About toe latter end of
April, or beginning of May, 1735, she was greatly affected
by the talk of her brother, who had been hopefully con
verted a little before, at about eleven years of age, and
then seriously talked to her about the great things of re
ligion. Her parents did not know of it at that time, and
were not wont, in the counsels they gave to their children,
particularly to direct themselves to her, being so young,
and, as they supposed, not capable of understanding. But
after her brother had talked to her, they observed her very
earnestly listen to the advice they gave to the other chil
dren; and she was observed very constantly to retire,
several times in a day, as was concluded, for secret prayer.
She grew more and more engaged in religion, and was
more frequent in her closet ; till at last she was wont to
visit it five or six times a day : and was so engaged in it,
that nothing would at any time divert her from her stated
closet exercises. Her mother often observed and watched
her, when such things occurred as she thought most likely
to divert her, either byputting it out of her thoughts, or
otherwise engaging her inclinations ; but never could ob
serve her to fail. She mentioned some very remarkable
instances. She once of her own accord spake of her unsuccessful-
ness, in toat she could not find God, or to that purpose.
But on Thursday, the last day of July, about the middle
of the day, the child being in the closet, where it used to
retire, its mother heard it speaking aloud ; which was un
usual, and never had been observed before. And her voice
seemed to be as of one exceedingly importunate and en
gaged; but her mother could distinctly hear only these
words, spoken in a childish manner, but wito extraordi
nary earnestness, and out of distress of soul, Pray, bless
ed Lord, give me salvation ! I pray, beg, pardon all my
sins ! When the child had done prayer, she came out of
the closet, sat down by her mother, and cried out aloud. _

362

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

Her mother very earnestly asked her several times, what
the matter was, before she would make any answer ; but
she continued crying, and writhing her body to and fro,
like one in anguish of spirit. Her mother then asked her,
whether she was afraid that God would not give her sal
vation. She then answered, Yes, I am afraid I shall go
to hell ! Her mother then endeavoured to quiet her, and
told her she would not have her cry, she must be a good
girl, and pi-ay every day, and she hoped God would give her
salvation. But this did not quiet her at all ; she continued
thus earnestly crying, and taking on for some time, till at
length she suddenly ceased crying, and began to smile, and
presently said with a smiling countenance, Mother, the
kingdom of heaven is come to me ! Her mother was sur
prised at the sudden alteration, and at the speech; and
knew not what to make of it ; but at first said nothing to
her. The child presently spake again, and said, there is
anotlter come to me, and there is another; there is three ;
and being asked what she meant, she answered, one is,
Thy will be done, and there is another, Enjoy him for ever ;
by which it seems, that when the child said, there is three
come to me ; she meant three passages of her catechism
that came to her mind.
After the child had said this, she retired again into her
closet ; and her mother went over to her brother's, who
was next neighbour ; and when she came back, the child,
being come out of the closet, meets her mother with this
cheerful speech ; I can find God now ! referring to what
she had before complained of, that she could not find God.
Then the child spoke again and said, I love God! her
mother asked her, how well she loved God, whether she
loved God better than her father and mother, she said, Yes.
Then she asked her, whether she loved God better than
her littlesister Rachel. She answered, Yes, better than any
thing ! Then her elder sister, referring to her saying she
could find God now, asked her, where she could find God.
She answered, In heaven. Why, said she, have you been
in heaven ? No, said the child. By this it seems not to
have been any imagination of any thing seen with bodily
eyes, that she called God, when she said, I can find God
now. Her mother asked her, whether she was afraid of
going to hell, and if that had made her cry ? She answer
ed, Yes, I was ; but now I shan't. Her mother asked her,
whether she thought that God had given her salvation :
she answered, Yes. Her mother asked her, When ? She
answered, To-day. She appeared all that afternoon ex
ceeding cheerful and joyful. One of the neighbours asked
her, how she felt herself? She answered, I feel better than
I did. The neighbour asked her, what made her feel bet
ter. She answered, God makes me. That evening, as she
lay a-bed, she called one of her little cousins to her, who
was present in the room, as having something to say to
him ; and when he came, she told him, that Heaven was
better than earth. The next day, her mother asked her
what God made her for ? She answered, To serve him ;
and added, Every body should serve God, and get an in
terest in Christ.
The same day the elder children, when they came home
from school, seemed much affected with the extraordinary
change that seemed to be made in Phebe. And her sister
Abigail standing by, her mother took occasion to counsel
her, now to improve her time, to prepare for another world.
On which Phebe burst out in tears, and cried out, Poor
Nabby! Her mother told her, she would not have her cry,
she hoped that God would give Nabby salvation ; but that
did not quiet her, she continued earnestly crying for some
time. When she had in a measure ceased, her sister Eu
nice being by her, she burst out again, and cried, Poor
Eunice ! and cried exceedingly ; and when she had almost
done, she went into another room, and there looked up on
her sister Naomi : and burst out again, crying, Poor Amy!
Her mother was greatly affected at such a behaviour in a
child, and knew not what to say to her. One of the
neighbours coming in a little after, asked her what she had
cried for. She seemed at first backward to tell the reason :
her mother told her she might tell that person, for he had
given her an apple : upon which she said, she cried because
she was afraid they would go to hell.
At night, a certain minister, who was occasionally in the
town, was at the house, and talked with her of religious

things. After he was gone, she sat leaning on the table,
with tears running from her eyes ; and being asked what
made her cry, she said, It was thinking about God. The
next day, being Saturday, she seemed great part of the day
to be in a very affectionate frame, had four turns of crying
and seemed to endeavour to curb herself, and hide her
tears, and was very backward to talk of the occasion. On
the Sabbath-day she was asked, whether she believed in
God ; she answered, Yes. And being told that Christ
was the Son of God, she made ready answer, and said, I
know it.
From this time there appeared a very remarkable abiding
change in the child. She has been very strict upon the
Sabbath ; and seems to long for the Sabbath-day before it
comes, and will often in the week time be inquiring how
long it is to the Sabbath-day, and must have the days be
tween particularly counted over, before she will be con
tented. She seems to love God's house, and is very eager
to go thither. Her mother once asked her, why she had
such a mind to go ? whether it was not to see fine folks ?
She said, No, it was to hear Mr. Edwards preach. When
she is in the place of worship, she is very far from spend
ing her time there as children at her age usually do, but
appears with an attention that is very extraordinary for
such a child. She also appears very desirous at all oppor
tunities to go to private religious meetings ; and is very
still and attentive at home, during prayer, and has appear
ed affected in time of family-prayer. She seems to delight
much in hearing religious conversation. When I once was
there with some strangers, and talked to her something of
religion, she seemed more than ordinarily attentive ; and
when we were gone, she looked out very wistfully after us,
and said, I wish they would come again! Her mother
asked her, why ? Says she, I love to hear 'em talk.
She seems to have very much of the fear of God before
her eyes, and an extraordinary dread of sinning against
him ; of which her mother mentioned the following re
markable instance. Some time in August, the last year,
she went with some bigger children, to get some plums in
a neighbour's lot, knowing nothing of any harm in what
she did; but when she brought some of the plums into
the house, her mother mildly reproved her, and told her
that she must not get plums without leave, because it was
sin : God had commanded her not to steal. The child
seemed greatly surprised, and burst out in tears, and cried
out, I wont have these plums! and turning to her sister
Eunice, very earnestly said to her, Why did you ask me to
go to that plum-tree ? 1 should not have gone, if you had
not asked me. The other children did not seem to be much
affected or concerned ; but there was no pacifying Phebe.
Her mother told her, she might go and ask leave, and then
it would not be sin for her to eat them ; and sent one of
the children to that end; and, when she returned, her
mother told her, that the owner had given leave, now she
might eat them, and it would not be stealing. This still
ed her a little while ; but presently she broke out again
into an exceeding fit of crying. Her mother asked her,
what made her cry again ? Why she cried now, since they
had asked leave ? What it was that troubled her now"?
And asked her several times very earnestly, before she
made any answer ; but at last said, ii was because, because
it was sin. She continued a considerable time crying ;
and said she would not go again if Eunice asked her an
hundred times ; and she retained her aversion to that fruit
for a considerable time, under the remembrance of her
former sin.
She sometimes appears greatly affected, and delighted
with texts of Scripture that come to her mind. Particu
larly about the beginning of November, that text came to
her mind, Rev. iii. 20. " Behold, I stand at the door, and
knock : If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I
will come in, and sup with him, and he with me." She
spoke of it to those of the family, with a great appearance
of joy, a smiling countenance, and elevation of voice ; and
afterwards she went into another room, where her mother
overheard her talking very earnestly to the children about
it ; and particularly heard her say to them, three or four
times over, with an air of exceeding joy and admiration,
Why it is to sup with god. Some time about the mid
dle of winter, very late in the night, when all were a-bed,

Sect. III.

ILLUSTRATED IN PARTICULAR INSTANCES.

363

her mother perceived that she was awake, and heard her,
as though she was weeping. She called to her, and asked
her what was the matter. She answered with a low voice,
so that her mother could not hear what she said ; but
thinking that it might be occasioned by some spiritual af
fection, said no more to her : but perceived ner to lie
awake, and to continue in the same frame, for a consider
able time. The next morning, she asked her, whether she
did not cry the last night. The child answered, Yes, I
did cry a little, for I was thinking about God and Christ,
and they loved me. Her mother asked her, whether to think
of God and Christ loving her made her cry ? she answered,
Yes, it does sometimes.
She has often manifested a great concern for the good of
others' souls : and has been wont many times affection
ately to counsel the other children. Once, about the latter
end of September, the last year, when she and some others
of the children were in a room by themselves, husking
Indian corn, the child, after a while, came out and sat by
the fire. Her mother took notice that she appeared with a
more than ordinary serious and pensive countenance ; but
at last she broke silence, and said, I have been talking to
Nabby and Eunice. Her mother asked her, what she had
said to them. Why, said she, I told them they must pray,
and prepare to die ; that they had but a little while to live
in this world, and they must be always ready. When Nabby
came out, her mother asked her, whether she had said that
to them. Yes, said she, she said that, and a great deal
more. At other times, the child took opportunities to talk
to the other children about the great concern of their souls,
so as much to affect them. She was once exceeding im
portunate with her mother to go with her sister Naomi to
pray : her mother endeavoured to put her off ; but she
pulled her by the sleeve, and seemed as if she would by no
means be denied. At last her mother told her, that Amy
must go and pray by herself; but, says the child, she will
not go ; and persisted earnestly to beg of her mother to go
with her.
She has discovered an uncommon degree of a spirit of
charity, particularly on the following occasion. A poor man
that lives in the woods, had lately lost a cow that the
family much depended on ; and being at the house, he was
relating his misfortune, and telling of the straits and diffi
culties they were reduced to by it. She took much notice
of it, and it wrought exceedingly on her compassion. After
she had attentively heard him awhile, she went away to
her father, who was in the shop, and entreated him to give
that man a cow : and told him, that the poor man had no
cow ! that the hunters, or something else, had killed his
cow ! and entreated him to give him one of theirs. Her
father told her, that they could not spare one. Then she
entreated him to let him and his family come and live at
his house : and had much more talk of the same nature,
whereby she manifested bowels of compassion to the poor.
She has manifested great love to her minister : particu
larly when I returned from my long journey for my health,
the last fall. When she heard of it, she appeared very joy
ful at the news, and told the children of it, with an ele
vated voice, as the most joyful tidings ; repeating it over
and over, Mr. Edwards is come home ! Mr. Edwards is
come home ! She still continues very constant in secret
prayer, so far as can be observed, for she seems to have no
desire that others should observe her when she retires,
being a child of a reserved temper. Every night, before
she goes to bed, she will say her catechism, and will by
no means miss. She never forgot it but once, and then,
after she was a-bed, thought of it, and cried out in tears, 1
han't said my catechism! and would not be quieted till her
mother asked her the catechism as she lay in bed. She
sometimes appears to be in doubt about the condition of
her soul ; and when asked, whether she thinks that she is
prepared for death, speaks something doubtfully about it.
At other times she seems to have no doubt, but when
asked, replies, Yes, without hesitation.
In the former part of this great work of God amongst us,
till it got to its height, we seemed to be wonderfully
smiled upon and blessed in all respects. Satan seemed to
be unusually restrained ; persons who before had been in
volved in melancholy, seemed to be as it were waked up
out of it ; and those who had been entangled with extra

ordinary temptations, seemed wonderfully freed. And not
only so, but it was the most remarkable time of health that
ever I knew since I have been in the town. We ordinarily
have several bills put up, every sabbath, for sick per
sons ; but now we had not so much as one for many
sabbaths together. But after this it seemed to be other
wise. When this work of God appeared to be at its greatest
height, a poor weak man who belongs to the town, being
in great spiritual trouble, was hurried with violent tempta
tions to cut his own throat, and made an attempt, but did
not do it effectually. He, after this, continued a con
siderable time exceedingly overwhelmed with melancholy ;
but has now for a long time been very greatly delivered, by
the light of God's countenance lifted up upon him, and
has expressed a great sense of his sin in so far yielding to
temptation ; and there are in him all hopeful evidences of
his having been made a subject of saving mercy.
In the latter part of May, it began to be very sensible
that the Spirit of God was gradually withdrawing from us,
and after this time Satan seemed to be more let loose, and
raged in a dreadful manner. The first instance wherein it
appeared, was a person putting an end to his own life by
cutting his throat. He was a gentleman of more than ¦
common understanding, of strict morals, religious in his be
haviour, and a useful and honourable person in the town ;
but was of a family that are exceedingly prone to the
disease of melancholy, and his mother was killed with it.
He had, from the beginning of this extraordinary time,
been exceedingly concerned about the state of his soul,
and there were some things in his experience that appeared
very hopeful ; but be durst entertain no hope concerning
his own good estate. Towards the latter part of his time,
he grew much discouraged, and melancholy grew again
upon him, till he was wholly overpowered by it, and was
in a great measure past a capacity of receiving advice, or
being reasoned with to any purpose. The devil took the
advantage, and drove him into despairing thoughts. He
was kept awake at nights, meditating terror, so that he had
scarce any sleep at all for a long time together ; and it was
observed at last, that he was scarcely well capable of
managing his ordinary business, and was judged delirious
by the coroner's inquest. The news of this extraordinarily
affected the minds of people here, and struck them as
it were with astonishment. After this, multitudes in this
and other towns seemed to have it strongly suggested to
them, and pressed upon them, to do as this person had
done. And many who seemed to be under no melancholy,
some pious persons who had no special darkness or doubts
about the goodness of their state — nor were under any
special trouble or concern of mind about any thing spiritual
or temporal — had it urged upon them as if somebody had
spoke to them, Cut your own throat, now is a good opportu
nity. Now ! now ! So that they were obliged to fight with
all their might to resist it, and yet no reason suggested to
them why they should do it.
About the same time, there were two remarkable in
stances of persons led away with strange enthusiastic delu
sions ; one at Suffield, and another at South Hadley. That
which has made the greatest noise in the country was the
conduct of the man at South Hadley ; whose delusion
was, that he thought himself divinely instructed to direct a
poor man in melancholy and despairing circumstances, to
say certain words in prayer to God, as recorded in Psal.
cxvi. 4. for his own relief. The man is esteemed a pious
man ; I have seen this error of his ; had a particular ac
quaintance with him ; and I believe none would question
his piety who had such acquaintance. He gave me a par
ticular account of the manner how he was deluded, which
is too long to be here inserted ; but, in short, he exceed
ingly rejoiced, and was elevated with the extraordinary
work carried on in this part of the country ; and was pos
sessed with an opinion, that it was the beginning of the
glorious times of the church spoken of in Scripture. He
had read it as the opinion of some divines, that many in
these times should be endued with extraordinary gifts of
the Holy Ghost, and had embraced the notion, though he
had at first no apprehensions that any besides ministers
would have such gifts. But he since exceedingly laments
the dishonour he has done to God, and the wound he has

364

A NARRATIVE OF CONVERSIONS.

given religion in it, and has lain low before God and man
for it.
After these things, the instances of conversion were rare
here in comparison of what they had before been, though
that remarkable instance before noticed of the little child,
was after this. The Spirit of God not long after this time,
appeared very sensibly withdrawing from all parts of the
country, though we have heard of the work going on in
some places of Connecticut, and that it continues to be
carried on even to this day. But religion remained here,
and I believe in some other places, the main subject of
conversation for several months after. And there were
some turns, wherein God's work seemed to revive, and we
were ready to hope that all was going to be renewed again ;
yet, in the main, there was a gradual decline of that
general, engaged, lively spirit in religion, which had been.
Several things have happened since, which have diverted
people's minds, and turned their conversation more to
other affairs ; particularly, his excellency the Governor's
coming up, and the committee of general court, on the
treaty with the Indians.— Afterwards, the Springfield con
troversy; and since that, our people in this town have
been engaged in the building of a new meeting-house.
Some other occurrences might be mentioned, that have
seemed to have this effect. But as to those who have
been thought converted at this time, they generally seem
to have had an abiding change wrought on them. "I have
had particular acquaintance with many of them since ; and
they generally appear to be persons who have a new sense
of things, new apprehensions and views of God, of the
divine attributes of Jesus Christ, and the great things of
the gospel. They have a new sense of their truth, and
they affect them in a new manner ; though it is very far
from being always alike with them, neither can they revive
a sense of things when they please. Their hearts are often
touched, and sometimes filled, with new sweetnesses and
delights ; there seems to express an inward ardour and
burning of heart, like to which they never experienced
before ; sometimes, perhaps, occasioned only by the men
tion of Christ's name, or some one of the divine perfec
tions. There are new appetites, and a new kind of breath
ings and pantings of heart, and groanings that cannot be
uttered. There is a new kind of inward labour and struggle
of soul towards heaven and holiness.
Some who before were very rough in their temper and
manners, seemed to be remarkably softened and sweeten
ed. And some have had their souls exceedingly filled,
and overwhelmed with light, love, and comfort, long since
the work of God has ceased to be so remarkably carried
on in a general way ; and some have had much greater
experiences of this nature than they had before. There is
still a great deal of religious conversation continued in the
town, amongst young and old ; a religious disposition ap
pears to be still maintained amongst our people, by their
holding frequent private religious meetings ; and all sorts
are generally worshipping God at such meetings, on Sab
bath-nights, and in the evening after our public lecture.
Many children in toe town still keep up such meetings
among themselves. I know of no one young person in
the town who has returned to former ways of looseness and
extravagance in any respect ; but we still remain a reform
ed people, and God has evidently made us a new people.
I cannot say that there has been no instance of any one
person who has conducted himself unworthily ; nor am I
so vain as to imagine that we have not been mistaken in
our good opinion concerning any ; or that there are none
who pass amongst us for sheep, that are indeed wolves in
sheep's clothing ; and who probably may, some time or
other, discover themselves by their fruits. We are not so
pure, but that we have great cause to be humbled and
ashamed that we are so impure ; nor so religious, but that
those who watch for our halting, may see things in us,
whence they may take occasion to reproach us and religion.
But in the main, there has been a great and marvellous

work of conversion and sanctification among the people
here ; and they have paid all due respect to those who
have been blest of God to be the instruments of it. Both
old and young have shown a forwardness to hearken not
only to my counsels, but even to my reproofs, from the
pulpit. A great part of the country have not received the most
favourable thoughts of this affair ; and to this day manv
retain a jealousy concerning it, and prejudice against it. I
have reason to think that the meanness and weakness of
the instrument, that has been made use of in this town,
has prejudiced many against it ; nor does it appear to me
strange that it should be so. But yet the circumstance of
this great work of God, is analogous to other circumstances
of it. God has so ordered the manner of the work in many
respects, as very signally and remarkably to show it to be
his own peculiar arid immediate work ; and to secure the
glory of it wholly to his own almighty power, and sove
reign grace. And whatever the circumstances and means
have been, and though we are so unworthy, yet so hath it
pleased God to work ! And we are evidently a people
blessed of the Lord ! For here, in this corner ofthe world,
God dwells, and manifests his glory.
Thus, Reverend Sir, I have given a large and particular
account of this remarkable affair; and yet, considering how
manifold God's works have been amongst us, it is but a
very brief one. I should have sent it much sooner, had I
not been greatly hindered by illness in my family, and also
in my own person. It is probably much larger than you
expected, and, it may be, than you would have chosen. I
thought that the extraordinary nature of the thing, and the
innumerable misrepresentations which have gone abroad
of it, many of which, doubtless, have reached your ears,
made it necessary that I should be particular. But I
would leave it entirely with your wisdom to make what
use of it you think best, to send a part of it to England,
or all, or none, if you think it not worthy ; or otherwise
to dispose of it as you may think most for God's glory,
and the interest of religion. If you are pleased to send
any thing to the Rev. Dr. Guyse, I should be glad to have
it signified to him, as my humble desire, that since he and
the congregation to which he preached, have been pleased
to take so much notice of us, as they have, that they would
also think of us at the throne of grace, and seek there for
us, that God would not forsake us, but enable us to bring
forth fruit answerable to our profession, and our mercies ;
and that our " light may so shine before men, that others
seeing our good works, may glorify our Father which is in
heaven." When I first heard of the notice the Rev. Dr. Watts
and Dr. Guyse look of God's mercies to us, I took occa
sion to inform our congregation of it in a discourse from
these words — A city that is set upon a hill cannot be hid.
And having since seen a particular account of the notice
which the Rev. Dr. Guyse and his congregation took of it,
in a letter you wrote to my honoured uncle Williams, I
read that part of your letter to the congregation, and la
boured as much as in me lay to enforce their duty from it.
The congregation were very sensibly moved and affected
at both times.
I humbly request of you, Reverend Sir, your prayers for
if A is county, in its present melancholv circumstances, into
which it is brought by the Springfield quarrel ; which,
doubtless, above all things that have happened, has tended
to put a stop to the glorious work here, and to prejudice
this country against it, and hinder the propagation of it. I
also ask your prayers for this town, and would particularly
beg an interest in them for him who is,
Honoured Sir,
With humble respect,
Your obedient Son and Servant,
Northampton, JONATHAN EDWARDS,
Nov. 6, 1736.

SOME THOUGHTS
CONCERNING
THE PRESENT REVIVAL OF RELIGION
IN NEW ENGLAND,
AND THE
WAY IN WHICH IT OUGHT TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED AND PROMOTED -,
HUMBLY OFFERED TO THE PUBLIC,
IN A TREATISE ON THAT SUBJECT.
Isa. xl. 3.— Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a high-way for our God.

THE PREFACE.
In the ensuing treatise, I condemn ministers assuming, or taking too much upon them, and appearing as though toey
supposed that they were the persons to whom it especially belonged to dictate, direct, and determine ; but perhaps shall
be thought to be very guilty of it myself. And some, when they read this treatise, may be ready to say, that while I
condemn this in others, I have the monopoly of it.  1 confess that I have taken a great deal of liberty freely to ex
press my thoughts concerning almost every thing appertaining to the wonderful work of God that has of late been carried
on in the land, and to declare what has appeared to me to be the mind of God concerning toe duty and obligations of
all sorts of persons, and even those that are my superiors and fathers, ministers of the gospel, and civil rulers. But yet
I hope the liberty I have taken is not greater than can be justified. In a free nation, such liberty of the press is allowed,
that every author takes leave, without offence, freely to speak his opinion concerning the management of public affairs,
and the duty of the legislature, and those that are at the head of the administration, though vastly his superiors. As at
this day, private subjects offer their sentiments to the public, from the press, concerning the management ofthe war with
Spain ; freely declaring what they think to be the duty of the parliament, and the principal ministers of state, &c. We
in New England are now engaged in a more important war. And I am sure, if we consider the sad jangling and con
fusion that has attended it, we shall confess that it is highly requisite somebody should speak his mind, concerning the
way in which it ought to be managed. Not only a few of the many particulars, which are the matter of strife, should
be debated, on toe one side and the other, in pamphlets (as has of late been done, with heat and fierceness enough) —
which do not tend to bring the contention in general to an end, but rather to inflame it, and increase the uproar — but
something should be published to bring the affair in general, and the many things that attend it, which are the subjects of
debate, under a particular consideration. And certainly it is high time that this was done. If private persons may
speak their minds without arrogance ; much more may a minister of the kingdom of Christ speak freely about things of
this nature, which do so nearly concern the interest of the kingdom of his Lord and Master, at so important a juncture.
If some elder minister had undertaken this, I acknowledge it would have been more proper ; but I have heard of no
such thing like to be done. I hope therefore I shall be excused for undertaking such a work. I think that nothing I have
said can justly be interpreted, as though I would impose my thoughts upon any, or did not suppose that others have
equal right to think for themselves. We are not accountable one to another for our thoughts ; but we must all give an
account to Him who searches our hearts, and has doubtless his eye especially upon us at such an extraordinary season as
this. If I have well confirmed my opinion concerning this work, and the way in which it should be acknowledged and
promoted, wito Scripture and reason, 1 hope those who read it will receive it as a manifestation of the mind and will
of God. If others would hold forth further light to me in any of these particulars, I hope I should thankfully receive
it. I think I. have been made in some measure sensible, and much more of late than formerly, of my need of more
wisdom than I have. I make it my rule to lay hold of light and embrace it, wherever I see it, though held forth by a
child or an enemy. If I have assumed too much in the following discourse, and have spoken in a manner that savours
of a spirit of pride, no wonder that others can better discern it than I myself. If it be so, I ask pardon, and beg the
prayers of every christian reader, toat I may have more light, humility, and zeal ; and that I may be favoured with
such measures of the divine Spirit, as a minister of the gospel stands in need of, at such an extraordinary season.

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL, &c.

PART I.

SHOWING THAT THE EXTRAORDINARY WORK WHICH HAS OF_LATE BEEN GOING ON IN THIS LAND, IS A GLORIOUS
WORK op god:,

The error of those who have had ill thoughts of the great
religious operation on the minds of men, which has been
carried on of late in New England, (so far as the ground
of such an error has been in toe understanding, and not in
the disposition,) seems fundamentally to lie in three
things : First, In judging of this work a priori. Second
ly, In not taking the Holy Scriptures as a whole rule
whereby to judge of such operations. Thirdly, In not
justly separating and distinguishing the good from the
bad.

SECT. I.
We should not judge of this work by the supposea'Causes,
but by the effects. '-  -'
They have greatly 'erred in the way in which toey have
gone about to try this work, whether it be a work of the
Spirit of God or no, viz. in judging of it a priori ; from
the way that it began, the instruments that have been em
ployed, the means that have been used, and the methods
toat have been taken and succeeded, in carrying it on.
Whereas, if we duly consider the matter, it will evidently
appear toat such a work is not to be judged of a priori,
but a posteriori. Wre are to observe the effect wrought ;
and if, upon examination of that, it be found to be agree
able to toe word of God, we are bound to rest in it as
God's work ; and shall be like to be rebuked for our
arrogance, if we refuse so to do till God shall explain to
us how he has brought this effect to pass, or why he has
made use of such and such means in doing it. These
texts are enough to cause us, with trembling, to forbear
such a way of proceeding in judging of a work of God's
Spirit : Isa. xl. 13, 14. " Who hath directed the Spirit of
the Lord, or being his counsellor hath taught him ? Wito
whom took he counsel, and who instructed him, and
taught him in the path of judgment, and taught him
knowledge, and showed to him the way of understanding ? "
John iii. 8. " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou
hearest the sound thereof; but canst not tell whence it
cometh, and whither it goeth." We hear the sound, we
perceive the effect, and from thence we judge that the
wind does indeed blow ; without waiting, before we pass
this judgment, first to be satisfied what should be toe
cause of toe wind's blowing from such a part of the
heavens, and how it should come to pass that it should
blow in such a manner, at such a time. To judge a priori,
is a wrong way of judging of any of the works of God.
We are not to resolve that we will first be satisfied how
God brought this or the other effect to pass, and why he
hath made it thus, or why it has pleased him to take such
a course, and to use such and such means, before we will
acknowledge his work, and give him the glory of it. This
is too much for the clay to take upon it with respect to the
potter. "God gives not account of his matters: His
judgments are a great deep : He hath his way in toe sea,
and his path in the great waters, and his footsteps are not
known ; and who shall teach God knowledge, or enjoin
him his way, or say unto him, What dost thou? We
know not what is the" way of the Spirit, nor how the bones
do grow in the womb of her that is with child ; even so we

know not the works of God who maketh all." No wonder
therefore if those that go this forbidden way to work, in
judging of the present wonderful operation, are perplexed
and confounded. We ought to take heed that we do not
expose ourselves to toe calamity of those who pried into
the ark of God, when God mercifully returned it to Israel,
after it had departed from them.
Indeed God has not taken toat course, nor made use of
those means, to begin and carry on this great work, which
men in their wisdom would have thought most advisable,
if he had asked their counsel; but quite toe contrary.
But it appears to me that the great God has wrought like
himself, in the manner of his carrying on this work ; so as
very much to show his own glory, exalt his own sove
reignty, power, and all-sufficiency. He has poured con
tempt on all that human strength, wisdom, prudence, and
sufficiency which men have been wont to trust, and to
glory in ; so as greatly to cross, rebuke, and chastise the
pride and other corruptions of men ; Isa. ii. 17. " And
toe loftiness of man shall be bowed down, and the haughti
ness of men shall be made low, and the Lord alone shall
be exalted in that day." God doth thus, in intermingling
in his providence so many stumbling-blocks with this
work : in suffering so much of human weakness and in
firmity to appear ; and in ordering so many things that are
mysterious to men's wisdom : in pouring out his Spirit
chiefly on the common people, and bestowing his greatest
and highest favours upon them, admitting toem nearer to
himself than the great, the honourable, the rich, and the
learned ; agreeable to thai-prophecy, Zech. xii. 7. " The
Lord also shall save thfe tents\>f Judah first, that the glory
of the house of David, !u_i__ie glory of toe inhabitants of
Jerusalem, do not magnify themselves against Judah."
Those who dwelt in the tents of Judah were the common
people, who dwelt in the country, and were of inferior
rank. The inhabitants of Jerusalem were their citizens,
their men of wealth and figure ; and Jerusalem also was
the chief place of the habitation or resort of their priests
and Levites, and their officers and judges ; there sat the
great Sanhedrim. The house of David was the highest
rank of all, the royal family, and the great men about the
king. — It is evident by the context, that this prophecy has
respect to something further than saving the people out of
the Babylonish captivity.
God in this work has begun at the lower end, and he
has made use of the weak and foolish things of the world
to carry it on. Some of the ministers chiefly employed,
have been mere babes in age and standing ; and some of
them not so high in reputation among their brethren as
many others; and God has suffered toeir infirmities to
appear in the sight of others, so as much to displease
them ; and at the same time it has pleased God greatly to
succeed toem, while he has not so succeeded others who
are generally reputed vastly their superiors. Yea, there is
reason to think toat it has pleased God to make use of the
mfirmit-ss of some, particularly their imprudent zeal, and
censorious; spirit, to chastise the deadness, negligence,
fei_rhly=rnmdedness, and vanity found among ministers in
the late times of declension and deadness, wherein wise
virgins and foolish, ministers and people, have sunk into
a deep sleep. These things in ministers of the gospel,
that go forth as the ambassadors of Christ, and have the

Sect. II.

WE SHOULD JUDGE OF IT BY SCRIPTURE ONLY.

307

care of immortal souls, are extremely abominable to God ;
vastly more hately in his sight than all the imprudence
and intemperate heats, wildness and distraction (as some
call it) of these zealous preachers. A supine carelessness,
and a vain, carnal, worldly spirit in a minister of the gos
pel, is the worst madness and distraction in the sight of
God. God may also make use at this day of the un
christian censoriousness of some preachers, the more to
humble and purify some of his own children and true
servants that liave been wrongfully censured, to fit them
for more eminent service and future honour.

SECT. II.
We should judge by the r-ule of Scripture '¦
Another foundation-error of those who do not acknow
ledge the divinity of this work is, not taking the Holy
Scriptures as whole, and in itself a sufficient rule to judge
of such things by. They who have one certain consistent
rule to judge by, are like to come to some clear deter
mination ; but they who have half a dozen different rules,
instead of justly and clearly determining, do but perplex
and darken themselves and others. They who would
learn the true measure of any thing, and will have many
different measures to try it by, have a task that they will not
accomplish. — Those of whom I am speaking will indeed
make some use of Scripture, so far as they think it serves
their turn, but do not make use of it alone as a rule suf
ficient by itself, but make as much and a great deal more
use of other things, diverse and wide from it, by which to
judge of this work. For,
I. Some make philosophy, instead of the Holy Scriptures,
their rule of judging of this work ; particularly the philoso
phical notions they entertain of the nature of the soul, its
faculties and affections. Some are ready to say, " There
is but little sober solid religion in this work ; it is little
else but flash and noise. Religion now all runs out into
transports and high fliglyJ--4_:S_25passions and affections."
In their philosophy, thajiffectionsYiof toe soul are some
thing diverse from the w_irarrrL'not appertaining to the
noblest part of toe soul. They are ranked among the
meanest principles that belong to men as partaking of ani
mal nature, and what he has in common with the brute
creation, rather than any thing whereby he is conformed to
angels and pure spirits. And though they acknowledge
that a good use may be made of the affections in religion, yet
they suppose toat the substantial part of religion does not
consist in them, but toat they are something adventitious
and accidental in Christianity.
But these gentlemen, I cannot but think, labour under
great mistakes, both in their philosophy and divinity. It
is true, distinction must be made in toe affections or pas
sions. There is a great deal of difference in high and
raised affections, which must be distinguished by the skill
of the observer. Some are much more solid than others.
There are many exercises of the affections that are very
flashy, and little to be depended on ; and oftentimes a
great deal appertains to toem, or rather is the effect of
them, that has its seat in animal nature, and is very much
owing to the constitution and frame of the body ; and that
which sometimes more especially obtains the name of
passion, is nothing solid or substantial. But it is false
philosophy to suppose this to be the case with all exercises
of affection in the soul, or with all great and high affec
tions ; and false divinity to suppose that religious affec
tions do not appertain to the substance and essence of
Christianity. On toe contrary, it seems to me that the
very life and soul of all true religion consists in them.
I humbly conceive toat the affections of the soul are not
properly distinguished from the will,vis though they were
two faculties. All acts of the affections are in some sense
acts of the will, and all the acts of the will are acts of toe
affections. All exercises of the will are, in some degree
or other, exercises of toe soul's appetition or aversion ; or
which is the same thing, of its love or hatred. The soul
wills one thing rather than another, or chooses one thing
rather than another, no otherwise than as it loves one thing
more than another ; but love and hatred are affections of

the soul. Therefore all acts of the will are truly acts of
the affections ; though the exercises of the will do not ob
tain the name of passions, unless toe will, either in its
aversion or opposition, be exercised in a high degree, or
in a vigorous and lively manner — All will allow that true
virtue or holiness has its seat chiefly in the heart, rather
than in the head. It therefore follows, from what has
been said already, that it consists chiefly in holy affections.
The things of religion take place in men's hearts, no further
than they are affected with toem. The informing of the
understanding is all vain, any farther than it affects the heart,
or, which is the same thing, has influence on toe affections.
Those gentlemen, who make light of these raised affec
tions in religion, will doubtless allow that true religion
and holiness, as it has its seat in the heart, is capable of
very high degrees, and high exercises in the soul. For in
stance ; they will probably allow, that the holiness of the
heart or will is capable of being raised to a hundred times
as great a degree of strength as it is in the most eminent
saint on earth, or to be exerted in a hundred times so
vigorous exercises of the heart ; and yet be true religion
or holiness still. Now therefore I would ask toem, by
what name they will call these high and vigorous exercises
of the will or heart ? Are they not high affections ? What
can they consist in, but in high acts of love ; strong and
vigorous exercises of benevolence and complacence ; high,
exalting, and admiring thoughts of God and his per
fections ; strong desires after God, &c. ? — And now, what
are we come to but high and raised affections ? yea, those
very affections that before they objected against, as worthy
of little regard ?
All will allow that there is nothing but solid religion in
heaven ; but there, holiness is raised to an exceeding great
height, to strong, high, exalted exercises of heart. Now,
what other strong and high exercises of toe heart, or of
holiness as it has its seat in their hearts, can we devise for
them, but holy affections, high degrees of actings of love
to God, rejoicing in God, admiration of God, &c. 1 —
Therefore these things in the saints and angels in heaven
are not to be despised and cashiered by the name of great
heats and transports of the passions. — And it will doubt
less be yet further allowed, that the more eminent the
saints are on earth, the stronger their grace, and the higher
its exercises are, the more they are like the saints in
heaven, i. e. (by what has been just now observed,) the
more they have of high or raised affections in religion.
Though there are false affections in religion, and in
some respects raised high ; yet undoubtedly there are also
true, holy, and solid affections ; and the higher these are
raised, toe better. And, when they are raised to an ex
ceeding great height, they are not to be suspected merely
because of their 'degree, but on the contrary to be esteemed.
Charity, or divine love, is in Scripture represented as the
sum of all the religion of the heart ; but this is only a
holy affection. And therefore, in proportion as this is
firmly fixed in the soul, and raised to a great height, the
more eminent a person is in holiness. Divine love or
charity is represented as the sum of all the religion of
heaven, and that wherein mainly the religion of the church
in its more perfect state on earth shall consist, when know
ledge, and tongues, and prophesyings shall cease ; and
therefore the higher this holy affection is raised in the
church of God, or in a gracious soul, the more excellent
and perfect is the state of toe church, or a particular soul.
If we take the Scriptures for our rule, then the greater
and higher our exercises of love to God, delight and com-
Elacency in him, desires and longings after him, delight in
is children, love to mankind, brokenness of heart, ab
horrence of sin, and self-abhorrence for it ; the more we
have of the peace of God which passeth all understanding,
and joy in the Holy Ghost, unspeakable and full of glory :
the higher our admiring thoughts of God, exulting and
glorying in him ; so much the higher is Christ's religion, or
that virtue which he and his apostles taught, raised in the
soul. It is a stumbling to some, that religious affections
should seem to be so powerful, or that they should be so
violent, (as they express it,) in some persons. They are
therefore ready to doubt whether it can be the Spirit of
God ; or, whether this vehemence be not rather a sign of

368

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part I.

the operation of an evil spirit. But why should such a
doubt arise ? What is represented in Scripture as more
powerful in its effects thaathe Spirit of God ? which is
therefore called " the powerlof the Highest," Luke i. 35.
and its saving effect in-ihe'soul is called " the power of
godliness." So we read of the " demonstration of the Spirit
and of power," 1 Cor. ii. 4. And it is said to operate in
the minds of men with the " exceeding greatness of divine
power," and " according to the working of God's mighty
power," Eph. i. 19. So we read of " the effectual work
ing of his power," Eph. iii. 7. " the power that worketh in
Christians," v. 20. the glorious power of God in the opera
tions of the Spirit, Col. i. 11. and the work of faith,
wrought with power, 2 Thess. i. 11. In 2 Tim. 1. 7. the
Spirit of God is called " the Spirit of power, and of love,
and of a sound mind." — So the Spirit is represented by a
mighty wind, and by fire, things most powerful in their
operation. II. Many are guiltvjsf not taking the Holy Scriptures
as a sufficient and Aohole^ru\e, whereby to judge of this
work. They judgeSsy-those things which the Scripture
does not give as any signs or marks whereby to judge one
way or the other, viz. the effects that religious exercises
and affections of mind have upon the body. Scripture-
rules respect the state of the mind, moral conduct, and
voluntary behaviour ; and not the physical state of the
body. The design of toe-Scripture is to teach us divinity,
and not physic and anatomy \j Ministers are made the
watchmen of men's sd-lSj-amKiot their bodies ; and there
fore the great rule which God has committed into their
hands, is to make them divines, and not physicians. —
Christ knew what instructions and rules his church would
stand in need of, better than we do ; and, if he had seen
it needful in order to the church's safety, he doubtless
would have given to ministers rules for judging of bodily
effects. He would have told them how the pulse should
beat under such and such religious exercises of mind ;
when men should look pale, and when they should shed
tears ; when they should tremble, and whether or no they
should ever be faint or cry out ; or whether the body should
ever be put into convulsions. He probably would have
put seme book into their hands, that should have tended
to make them excellent anatomists and physicians. But
he has not done it, because he did not see it to be need
ful. — He judged, that if ministers thoroughly did their duty
as watchmen and overseers of the state and frame of men's
souls, and of their voluntary conduct, according to the
rules he had given, his church would be well provided for
as to its safety in these matters. And therefore those
ministers of Christ, and overseers of souls, who are full of
concern about the involuntary motions of the fluids and
solids of men's bodies, and who from thence are full of
doubts and suspicions of the cause — when nothing appears
but that the state and frame of their minds, and their vo
luntary behaviour, is good, and agreeable to God's word —
go out of the place that Christ has set them in, and leave
their proper business, as much as if they should undertake
to tell who are under the influence of the Spirit by their
looks, or their gait. I cannot see which way we are in
danger, or how the devil is like to get any notable advan
tage against us, if we do but thoroughly do our duty with
respect to those two things, viz. the state of persons' minds,
and their moral conduct ; seeing to it that they be main
tained in an agreeableness to the rules that Christ has given
us. If things are but kept right in these respects, our fears
and suspicions arising from extraordinary bodily effects
seem wholly groundless.
The most specious thing alleged against these extraor
dinary effects on the body, is, That the body is impaired,
and that it is hard to think that God, in the merciful in
fluences of his Spirit on men, would wound their bodies, and
impair their health. But if it were in multiplied instances
(which I do not suppose it is) that persons received a last
ing wound to their health by extraordinary religious im
pressions made upon their minds, yet it is too much for
us to determine that God shall never bring an outward
calamity, in bestowing a vastly greater spiritual and eter
nal good. Jacob in doing his duty in wrestling with God
for the blessing, and even at the same time that he received
the blessing from God, suffered a great outward calamity

from his hand. God gave him the blessing, -but sent him
away halting on his thigh, and he went /lame all his life
after. And yet this is not mentioned as rf it were any
diminution of the great mercy of God to him, when God
blessed him, and he received his name Israel, because as a
prince he had power with God, and had prevailed. „
. But, say some, The operations of the Spirit of God are
of a benign nature ; nothing is of a more kind influence on
human nature than the merciful breathings of God's own
Spirit. But it has been generally supposed and allowed
in the church of God, till now, that there is such a thing
as being sick of love to Christ, or having the bodily strength
weakened by strong and vigorous exercises of love to him.
And however kind to human nature the influences of the
Spirit of God are, yet nobody doubts but that divine and
eternal things, as they may be discovered, would over
power the nature of man in its present weak state ; and
that therefore the body, in its present weakness, is not fit
ted for the views, and pleasures, and employments of
heaven. Were God to discover but a little of that which
is seen by saints and angels in heaven, our frail natures
would sink under it. Let us rationally consider what we
profess to believe ofthe infinite greatness of divine wrath,
divine glory, the divine infinite love and grace in Jesus
Christ, and the infinite importance of eternal things ; and
then how reasonable it is to suppose, that if God a little
withdraw the veil, to let light into the soul — and give a
view of the great things of another world in their transcend
ent and infinite greatness — that human nature, which is as
the grass, a shaking leaf, a weak withering flower, should
totter under such a discovery ! Such a bubble is too weak
to bear a weight so vast. Alas ! what is man that he should
support himself under a view of the awful wrath or infinite
glory and love of JEHOVAH ! No wonder therefore that
it is said, " No man can see me and live ;" and, " Flesh and
blood cannot inherit the kingdom of Gpd-_==That external
glory and majesty of Christ which ^DanjeT)saw, when
" there remained no strength in him, andhis comeliness was
turned in him into corruption," Dan. x. 6 — 8. and which
the apostle John saw, when he fell at his feet as dead ; was
but a shadow of that spiritual majesty of Christ which will
be manifested in the souls of the saints in another world,
and which is sometimes, in a degree, manifested to the soul
in this world. And if beholding the image of this glory
did so overpower human nature, is it unreasonable to sup
pose that a sight of the spiritual glory itself, should have as
powerful an effect ? The prophet Ha^akkuk, speaking of
the awful manifestations God made ofnis majesty and
wrath, at the Red sea, and in the wilderness, and at mount
Sinai, where he gave the law ; and of the merciful influ
ence and strong impression God caused it to have upon
him, to the end that he might be saved from that wrath, and
rest in the day of trouble ; says, Hab. iii. 16. " When I
heard, my belly trembled, my lips quivered at the voice,
rottenness entered into my bones, I trembled in myself,
that I might rest in the day of trouble." This is an effect
similar to what the discovery of the same majesty and wrath
has had upon many in these days ; and to the same pur
poses, viz. to give them rest in the day of trouble, and save
them from that wrath. The psalmist also speaks of such
an effect as I have often seen on persons under religious
affections of late, Psal. cxix. 131.
God is pleased sometimes, in dealing forth spiritual
blessings to his people, in some respects to exceed the capa
city of the vessel in its present scantiness ; so that he not
only fills it, but makes toeir cup to run over ; (Psal. xxiii.
5.) and pours out a blessing, sometimes, in such manner
and measure that there is not room enough to receive it.
(Mai. iii. 10.) He gives them riches more than they can
carry away ; as he did to Jehoshaphat and his people in a
time of great favour, by the word of his prophet Jahaziel in
answer to earne^t^rayjer, when the people blessed the Lord
in the valley of BerachafM Chron. xx. 25, 26. It has been
with the disciples~of^Christ, for a long season, a time of
great emptiness on spiritual accounts. They have gone
hungry, and having been toiling in vain, during a dark night
with the church of God ; as it was with the disciples of
old, when they had toiled all night for something to eat,
and caught nothing, Luke v. 5. and John xxi. 3. But now,
the morning being come, Jesus appears to his disciples, and

Sect. II.

WE SHOULD JUDGE OF IT BY SCRIPTURE ONLY.

369

takes a compassionate notice of their wants, and says to
them, Children, have ye any meal ? and gives some of them
such abundance of food, that they are not able to draw their
net ; yea, so that their net breaks, and their vessel is over
loaded, and begins to sink ; as it was with the disciples of
old, Luke v. C, 7. and John xxi. 6.
We cannot determine that God never shall give any
person so much of a discovery of himself, not only as to
weaken their bodies, but to take away their lives. It is sup
posed by very learned andjudicious divines, that Moses's life
was taken away after this manner; and this has also been
supposed to be the case with some other saints. Yea, I do
not see any solid sure grounds any have to determine, that
God shall' never make such strong impressions on the
mind by his Spirit, that shall be an occasion of so impair
ing the frame of_toe body, that persons shall be deprived
of the use of<feasbnr>As I said before, it is too much for
us to deterrnirtef-mat God will not bring an outward
calamity in bestowing spiritual and eternal blessings ; so
it is too much for us to determine how great an outward
calamity he will bring. If God gives a great increase of
discoveries of himself, and of love to him, the benefit is
infinitely greater than the calamity, though toe life should
presently after be taken away ; yea, though the soul should
lie for years in a deep sleep, and then be taken to heaven :
or, which is much the same thing, if it be deprived of the
use of its faculties, and be as inactive and unserviceable,
as if it lay in a deep sleep for some years, and then should
pass into glory. We cannot determine how great a.
calamity distraction is, considered with all its conse
quences ; and all that might have been consequent if the
distraction had not happened ; nor indeed whether, thus
considered, it be any calamity at all, or whether it be not.
a mercy, by preventing some great sin, &c. It is a great
fault in us to limit a sovereign all-wise God, whose judg
ments are a great deep, and his ways past finding out,
where he has not limited himself, and in things concern
ing which he has not told us what his way shall be. It is
remarkable, considering in what multitudes of instances,
and to how great a degree, the frame of the body has
been overpowered of late, that persons' lives have, notwith
standing, been preserved. The instances of those who have
been deprived of reason, have been very few, and those,
perhaps all of them, persons under the peculiar disadvan
tage of a weak, vaporous habit of body. A merciful and
careful divine hand is very manifest in it, that the ship,
though in so many instances it has begun to sink, yet has
been upheld, and has not totally sunk. The instances of
such as have been deprived of reason are so few, that cer
tainly they are not enough to cause alarm, as though this
work was like to be of baneful influence ; unless we are
disposed to gather up all that we can to darken it, and set
it forth in frightful colours.
There is one particular kind of exercise by which many
have been overpowered, that has been especially stumbling
to some; and that is, their deep distress for the souls of
others. I am sorry that any put us to the trouble of de
fending such a thing as this. It seems like mere trifling in
so plain a case, to enter into a particular debate, in order
to determine whether there be any thing in toe greatness
and importance of the case that will bear a proportion to
the greatness of the concern manifested. Men may be
allowed, from no higher a principle than common hu
manity, to be very deeply concerned, and greatly exer
cised in mind, at seeing others in great danger of, or being
burnt up in a house on fire. And it will be allowed to be
equally reasonable, if they saw them in danger of a ca
lamity ten times greater, to be still much more concerned ;
and so much more still, if the calamity was still vastly
greater. Why then should it be thought unreasonable,
and looked on with a suspicious eye, as if it must come
from some bad cause, when persons are extremely con
cerned at seeing others in a very great danger of suffering
the fierceness and wrath of almighty God to all eternity ?
Besides, it will doubtless be allowed that those who have
great degrees of the Spirit of God, which is a Spirit of love,
may well be supposed to have vastly more love and com
passion to their fellow-creatures, than those who are influ
enced only by common humanity. Why should it.be
thought strange that those who are full of the Spirit of
vol. i. 2 b

Christ, should be proportionably, in their love to souls,
like to Christ ? He had so strong a love and concern for
them, as to be willing to drink the dregs of the cup of
God's fury ; and, at toe same time that he offered up his
blood for souls, he offered up also, as their high priest,
strong crying and tears, with an extreme agony, wherein
the soul of Christ was as it were in travail for the souls of
the elect ; and therefore, in saving them, he is said to see
of the travail of his soul. As such a spirit of love and
concern for souls was the spirit of Christ, so it is that of
the church. Therefore the church, in desiring and seeking
that Christ might be brought forth in the souls of men, is
represented, Rev. xii. as a "woman crying, travailing in
birth, and pained to be delivered." The spirit of those
who have been in distress for the souls of others, so far as I
can discern, seems not to be different from toat of the
apostle, who travailed for souls, and was ready to wish
himself accursed from Christ, for others; and that of the
psalmist, Psal. cxix. 53. " Horror hath taken hold upon
me, because ofthe wicked that forsake thy law." And ver.
136." Kivers of waters run down mine eyes, because they
keep not thy law/!—And that of the prophet Jeremiah,
Jer. iv. 19. " Myfbowels ! my bowels ! I am pained at
my very heart ! my-heart-maketh a noise in me ! I cannot
hold my peace ! because thou hast heard, O my soul, the
sound of the trumpet, toe alarm of war !" And so chap. ix.
1. and xiii. 17. xiv. 17. and Isa. xvii. 4. We read of
Mordecui, when he saw his people in danger of being
destroyed with a temporal destruction, Esth. iv. 1 . that
" he rent his clothes, and put on sackcloth with ashes, and
went out in the midst of the city, and cried with a loud
and bitter cry." And why then should persons be thought
to be distracted, when they cannot forbear crying out, at
the consideration of the misery of those who are going to
eternal destruction.
III. Another thing that some make their rule to judge
of this work by, instead of the Holy Scriptures, is history,
or former observation. Herein they err two ways :
First, If there be any thing extraordinary in the cir
cumstances of this work, which was not observed in
former times, theirs is a rule to reject this work which
God has not given them, and they limit God, where he
has not limited himself. And this is especially unreason
able in this case: for whosoever has well weighed the
wonderful and mysterious methods of divine wisdom in
carrying on the work of the new creation — or in the pro
gress of the work of redemption, from the first promise of
the seed of the woman to this time — may easily observe
that it has all along been God's manner to open new
scenes, and to bring forth to view things new and wonder
ful — such as eye had not seen, nor ear heard, nor entered
into the heart of man or angels — to the astonishment of
heaven and earth, not only in the revelations he makes of
his mind and will, but also in the works of his hands. As
the old creation was carried on through six days, and
appeared all complete, settled in a state of rest, on the
seventh; so the new creation, which is immensely the
greatest and most glorious work, is carried on in a gradual
progress, from the fall of man, to the consummation of all
things. And as in the progress of the old creation, there
were still new things accomplished ; new wonders every
day in the sight ofthe angels, the spectators of that work-
while those morning-stars sang together, new scenes were
opened, till the whole was finished — so it is in the pro
gress of the new creation. So that that promise, Isa. lxiv.
4. " For since the beginning of the world, men have not
heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen,
O God, besides thee, what he hath prepared for him that
waiteth for him." Though it had a glorious fulfilment in
the days of Christ and his apostles, as the words are ap
plied, 1 Cor. ii. 9. yet it always remains to be fulfilled, in
things that are yet behind, till the new creation is finished,
at Christ's delivering up the kingdom to the Father. And
we live in those latter days, wherein we may be especially
warranted to expect that things will be accomplished, con
cerning which it will be said, Who hath heard such a
thing? who hath seen such things?
Besides, those things in this work, which have been
chiefly complained of as new, are not so new as has been
generally imagined. Though they have been much more

370

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part 1.

frequent lately, in proportion to the uncommon degree,
extent, and swiftness, and other extraordinary circum
stances, of the work, yet toey are not new in their kind ;
but are of the same nature as have been found, and weli
approved of, in the church of God before, from tijr_scto
time. — We have a remarkable instance in Mr. (Bolton,)
toat noted minister of the church of England, whff-after
being awakened by the preaching of the famous Mr.
Perkins, minister of Christ in the university of Cambridge,
was the subject of such terrors as threw him to the ground,
and caused him to roar with anguish. The pangs of the
new birth in him were such, that he lay pale and without
sense, like one dead ; as we have an account in the Fulfil
ment of the Scripture, the 5th edition, p. 103, 104. We
have an account in the same page of another, whose com
forts under the sun-shine of God's presence were so great,
that he could not forbear crying out in a transport, and ex
pressing in exclamations the great sense he had of forgiving
mercy and his assurance of God's love. And we have a
remarkable instance, in the life of Mr. George Trosse,
written by himself, (who, of a notoriously vicious profligate
liver, became an eminent saint and minister of the gospel,)
of terrors occasioned by awakenings of conscience, so
overpowering the body, as to deprive him, for some time,
of the use of reason.
Yea, such extraordinary external effects of inward im
pressions have not been found merely in here and there a
single person, but there have been times wherein many
have been thus affected, in some particular parts of the
church of God ; and such effects have appeared in con
gregations, in many at once. So it was in the year 1625,
m the west of Scotland, on a time of great outpouring of the
Spirit of God. It was then a frequent thing for many to
be so extraordinarily seized with terror in hearing the word,
by the Spirit of God convincing toem of sin, that they fell
down, and were carried out of the church, and they after
wards proved most solid and lively Christians; as the
author of the Fulfilling of the Scripture informs us, p. 185.
The same author in the preceding page, informs of many
in France that were so wonderfully affected with the
preaching of the gospel, in toe time of those famous
divines Farel and Viret, that for a time they could not
follow their secular business: and, p. 186. of many in
Ireland, in a time of great outpouring of the Spirit there,
in the year 1628, that were so filled with divine comforts,
and a sense of God, that they made but little use of either
meat, drink, or sleep ; and professed that they did not feel
the need thereof. The same author gives a similar account
of Mrs. Katharine Brettergh, of Lancashire, in England,
(p. 391, 392.) After great distress, which very much
affected her body, God did so break in upon her mind
with light and discoveries of himself, that she was forced
to burst out, crying, " O the joys, the joys, the joys that I
feel in my soul ! O they be wonderful, they be wonderful !
The place where I now am is sweet and pleasant ! How
comfortable is the sweetness I feel, that delights my soul !
The taste is precious ; do you not feel it? Oh so sweet as
it is !" And at other times, " O my sweet Saviour, shall
I be one with thee, as thou art one with the Father ? And
dost thou so love me that am but dust, to make me par
taker of glory with Christ ? O how wonderful is thy love !
And O that my tongue and heart were able to sound forth
thy praises as I ought !" At another time she burst forth
thus ; " Yea, Lord, I feel thy mercy, and I am assured of
thy love ! And so certain am I thereof, as thou art that
God of truth ; even so certainly do I know myself to be
thine, O Lord my God ; and this my soul knoweth right
well 1" Which last words she again doubled. To a grave
minister, one Mr. Harrison, then with her, she said, " My
soul hath been compassed with the terrors of death, the
sorrows of hell were upon me, and a wilderness of woe
was in me ; but blessed, blessed, blessed be the Lord my
God ! he hath brought me to a place of rest, even to toe
sweet running waters of life. The way I now go in is a
sweet and easy way, strewed wito flowers ; he hath brought
me into a place more sweet than the garden of Eden, O
the joy, the joy, toe delights and joy that I feel ! O how
wonderful !'
Great outcries under awakenings were more frequently
heard of in former times in the country than they have

been of late, as some aged persons now living do testify :
Earticularly I think fit here to insert a testimony of my
onoured father, of what he remembers formerly to have
heard. — " I well remember that one Mr. Alexander Allen,
a Scots gentleman of good credit, that dwelt formerly in this
town, showed me a letter that came from Scotland, that
gave an account of a sermon preached in the city of Edin
burgh (as I remember) in the time of the sitting of the
general assembly of divines in that kingdom, that so affect
ed the people, that there was a great and loud cry made
throughout the assembly. I have also been credibly in
formed, and how often I cannot now say, that it was a
common thing, when the famous Mr. John Rogers of
Dedham, in England, was preaching, for some of his hear
ers to cry out; and, by what I have heard, I conclude
that it was usual for many that heard that very awakening
and rousing preacher of God's word, to make a great cry
in the congregation.
(Signed) TIMOTHY EDWARDS."
Windsor, May 5, 1742.
Mr. Flavel gives a remarkable instance of a man whom
he knew, that was wonderfully overcome with divine com
forts ; which it is supposed he knew, as the apostle Paul
knew the man that was caught up to the third heaven. He
relates, that " As the person was travelling alone, with his
thoughts closely fixed on the great and astonishing things
of another world, his thoughts began to swell higher and
higher, like the water in EzekieUs vision, till at last they
became an overflowing flood. Such was the intenseness
of his mind, such the ravishing tastes of heavenly joys,
and such his full assurance of his interest therein, that he
utterly lost all sight and sense of this world, and the con
cernments thereof; and for some hours knew not where he
was, nor what he was about ; but, having lost a great
quantity of blood at the nose, he found himself so faint,
that it brought him a little more to himself. And after he
had washed himself at a spring, and drank of the water
for his refreshment, he continued to the end of his journey,
which was thirty miles ; and all this while was scarce
sensible : and says, he had several trances of considerable
continuance. The same blessed frame was preserved all
that night, and, in a lower degree, great part of the next
day ; the night passed without one wink of sleep ; and
yet he declares he never had a sweeter night's rest in all
his life. Still, adds the story, the joy of the Lord over
flowed him, and he seemed to be an inhabitant of another
world. And he used for many years after to call that day
one of the days of heaven ; and professed that he under
stood more of the life of heaven by it, than by all the books
he ever read, or discourses he ever entertained about it."
There have been instances before now, of persons crying
out in transports of divine joy in New England. We
have an instance in Capt. Clap s memoirs, (published by
the Rev. Mr. Prince,) not of a silly woman or child, but a
man of solid understanding, that, in a high transport of
spiritual joy, was made to cry out aloud on his bed! His
words, p. 9. are, " God's Holy Spirit did witness (I do be
lieve) together with my spirit, that I was a child of God ;
and did fill my heart and soul wito such full assurance
that Christ was mine, that it did so transport me, as to
make me cry out upon my bed, with a loud voice, He i*
come, he is come !"
There has, before now, been both crying out and falling,
even in this town, under awakenings of conscience, and in
the pangs of the new birth ; and also in one of the neigh
bouring towns, more than seven years ago, a great number
together cried out and fell down under conviction ; and in
most of whom there was au abiding good issue. And the
Rev. Mr. Williams of Deerfield gave me an account of
an aged man hi toat town, many years before that, who
being awakened by his preaching, cried out aloud in ihe
congregation. There have been many instances, before
now, of persons in this town fainting with joyful dis
coveries made to toeir souls, and once several together.
And there have been several instances here of persons
waxing cold and benumbed, wito their hands clinched,
yea, and their bodies in convulsions, being overpowered
with a strong sense of the astonishingly great and excel
lent things of God and the eternal world.

Sect. HI.

WE SHOULD NOT JUDGE OF THE WHOLE BY A PART.

37 i

Secondly, Another way that some err in making history
and former observation their rule instead of the Holy
Scripture, is in comparing some external, accidental cir
cumstances of this work, with what has appeared some
times in enthusiasts. They find an agreement in some
such things, and so toey reject the whole work, or at least
the substance of it, concluding it to be enthusiasm. Great
use has been made to this purpose of many things that are
found amongst the quakers ; however totally and essen
tially different in its nature this work is, and the principles
upon which it is built, from the whole religion of the
¦quakers. To the same purpose, some external appear
ances that were found amongst the French prophets, and
other enthusiasts in former times, have been of late trump
ed up with great assurance and triumph.
IV. I would propose it to be considered, whether or
no some, instead of making the Scriptures-their only rule
to judge of this work, do not make^heir_owgl experience
the ruie, and reject such and such things as are now pro
fessed and experienced, because they themselves never felt
them. Are there not many, who, chiefly on this ground,
have entertained and vented suspicions, if not peremptory
condemnations, of those extreme terrors, and those great,
sudden, and extraordinary discoveries cf the glorious per
fections of God, and of toe beauty and love of Christ ?
Have they not condemned such vehement affections, such
high transports of love and joy, such pity and distress for
the souls of others, and exercises of mind that have such
great effects, merely, or chiefly, because they knew no
thing about them by experience ? Persons are very ready
to be suspicious of what they have not felt themselves.
It is to be feared that many good men have been guilty of
this error ; which however does not make it the less un
reasonable. And perhaps there are some who upon this
ground do not only reject these extraordinary things, but
all such conviction of sin, discoveries of toe glory of God,
excellency of Christ, and inward conviction of the truth
of the gospel, by the immediate influence of the Spirit of
God, now supposed to be necessary to salvation. — These
persons who thus make their own experiences their rule
of judgment, instead of bowing to the wisdom of God,
and yielding to his word as an infallible rule, are guilty of
casting a great reflection upon the understanding of the
Most High.

^-  ^ SECT. III.
We should nistinguishjthe good from the bad, tout not judge
,^-  ofthe whole by a part.
Another, foundation-error of those who reject this
work, is, their not duly distinguishing the good from the
bad, and very unjustly judging of the whole by a part;
and so rejecting the work in general, or in the main sub
stance of it, for the sake of some accidental evil in it.
They look for more in men because subject to the opera
tions of a good spirit, than is justly to be expected from
them for that reason, in this imperfect state, where so
much blindness and corruption remains in the best. When
any profess to have received light and comforts from
heaven, and to have had sensible communion with God,
many are ready to expect that now they appear like an
gels, and not still like poor, feeble, blind, and sinful worms
of the dust. There being so much corruption left in the
hearts of God's own children, and its prevailing as it
sometimes does, is indeed a mysterious thing, and always
was a stumbling-block to the world ; but will not be so
much wondered at by those who are well versed in, and
duly mindful of, two things, viz. First, The word of
God, which teaches the state of true Christians in this
world ; and, Secondly, Their own hearts, at least if thev
have any grace, and have experience of its conflicts with
corruption. True saints are the most inexcusable, in
making a great difficulty of much blindness and many
sinful errors in those who profess godliness. If all our
conduct, both open and secret, should be known, and our
hearts laid open to the world ; how should we be even
ready to flee from the light of the sun, and hide ourselves
_xmi the view of mankind ! And what great allowances
2 b 2

would we need that others should make for us ? Perhaps
much greater than we are willing to make for others.
The great weakness of the greater part of mankind, in
any affair that is new and uncommon, appears in not dis
tinguishing, but either approving or condemning all in the
lump. They who highly approve of the affair in general,
cannot bear to have any thing at all found fault with;
and, on the other hand, those who fasten their eyes upon
some things in the affair that are amiss, and appear very
disagreeable to them, at once reject the whole. Both
which errors oftentimes arise from the want of persons
having a due acquaintance with themselves. It is rash
and unjust when we proceed thus in judging either of a
particular person, or a people. Many, if they see any
thing very ill in a particular person, a minister or private
professor, will at once brand him as a hypocrite. And,
if there be two or three of a people or society that behave
themselves very irregularly, the whole must bear the
blame of it. And if there be a few, though it may not be
above one in a hundred, that professed, and had a show
of being the happy partakers of what are called the saving
benefits of this work, but afterwards give the world just
grounds to suspect them, the whole work must be rejected
on their account ; and those in general, that make the like
profession, must be condemned for their sakes.
So careful are some persons lest this work should be
defended, that now they will hardly allow that the influ
ences of the Spirit of God on toe heart can so much as in
directly, and accidentally, be the occasion of the exercise
of corruption, and the commission of sin. Thus far is
true, that the influence of the Spirit of God in his saving
operations will not be an occasion of increasing the cor
ruption of the heart in general ; but on the contrary of
weakening it : but yet there is nothing unreasonable in
supposing, that, at the same time that it weakens corrup
tion in general, it may be an occasion of turning what is
left into a new channel. There may be more of some
kinds of the exercise of corruption than>before ; as that
which tends to stop the course of a stream; if it do it not
wholly, may give a new course to so ..much of the water
as gets by the obstacle. The influences of the Spirit, for
instance, may be an occasion of new ways of the exercise
of pride, as has been acknowledged by orthodox divines
in general. That spiritual discoveries and comforts may,
through the corruption of the heart, be an occasion of the
exercise of spiritual pride, was not used to be doubted,
till now it is found to be needful to maintain the war
against this work.
They who will hardly allow that a work of the Spirit of
God can be a remote occasion of any sinful behaviour or
unchristian conduct, I suppose will allow that the truly
gracious influences of the Spirit of God, yea, and a high
degree of love to God, is consistent with these two things,
viz. a "considerable degree of remaining corruption, and
also many errors in judgment in matters of religion. And
this is all that need to be allowed, in order to its being
most demonstratively evident, that a high degree of love
to God may accidentally move a person to that which is
very contrary to the mind and will of God. For a high
degree of love to God will strongly move a person to do
that which he believes to be agreeable to God's will ; and
therefore, if he be mistaken, and be persuaded toat that is
agreeable to the will of God, which indeed is very contrary
to it, then his love will accidentally, but strongly, incline
him to that, which is indeed very contrary to the will of
God. — They who are studied in logic have learned, that
the nature of the cause is not to be judged of by the
nature of the effect, nor the nature of the effect from the
nature of the cause, when the cause is only causa sine qua
non, or an occasional cause ; yea, that, in such a case,
oftentimes the nature of the effect is quite contrary to the
nature ofthe cause.
True disciples of Christ may have a great deal of false
zeal, such as the disciples had of old, when they would
have fire called for from heaven to come down on the Sa-
maritans, because they did not receive them. And even
so eminently holy, and great, and divine a saint as Moses —
who conversed with God as a man speaks with his friend,
and concerning whom God gives his testimony, that he
was very meek, above any man upon the face of the earth, — ¦

372

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL:

Part I.

may be rash and sinful in his zeal, when his spirit is
stirred by the hard-heartedness and opposition of others.
He may speak very unadvisedly with his lips, and greatly
offend God, and shut himself out from the possession of
the good things that God is about to accomplish for his
church on earth ; as Moses was excluded Canaan, though
he had brought the people out of Egypt, Psal. cvi. 32, 33.
And men, even in those very things wherein they are in
fluenced by a truly pious principle, may, through error
and want of due consideration and caution, be very rash
with their zeal. It was a truly good spirit which animated
that excellent generation of Israel in Joshua's time ; Josh.
xxii. and yet they were rash and heady with their zeal, to
gather all Israel together to go so furiously to war with
their brethren of the two tribes and half, about their build
ing the altar Ed, without first inquiring into the matter, or
so much as sending a messenger to be informed. So the
Christians of the circumcision, with warmth and conten
tion condemned Peter for receiving Cornelius, Acts xi.
This their heat and censure was unjust, and Peter was
wronged in it ; but there is every appearance in the storv,
that they acted from a real zeal and concern for the will
and honour of God. So the primitive Christians, from
their zeal for and against unclean meats, censured and
condemned one another. This was a bad effect, and yet
the apostle bears them witness, or at least expresses his
charity towards them, that both sides acted from a good
principle, and true respect to the Lord, Rom. xiv. 6. The
zeal of the Corinthians with respect to the incestuous
man, though the apostle highly commends it, yet heat the
same time saw that they needed a caution, lest they
should carry it too far, to an undue severity, so as to fail
of christian meekness and forgiveness,_2_Cor. ii. 6 — 11.
and chapter vii. 11, to the end.  -Lutherjj that great
reformer, had a great deal of bitterness wrrtrhis zeal.
It surely cannot be wondered at by considerate persons,
when multitudes all over the land have their affections
greatly moved, that great numbers should run into many
errors and mistakes with respect to their duty, and conse
quently, into many practices that are imprudent and
irregular. I question whether there be a man in New
England, of the strongest reason and greatest learning, but
what would be put to it to keep master of himself,
thoroughly to weigh his words, and to consider all the
consequences of his behaviour, so as to conduct himself in
all respects prudently, if he were so strongly impressed
with a sense of divine and eternal things, and his affec
tions so exceedingly moved, as has been frequent of late
among the common people. How little do they consider
human nature, who look upon it so insuperable a stum
bling-block, when such multitudes of all kinds of capaci
ties, natural tempers, educations, customs, and manners of
life, are so greatly and variously affected, that impru
dences and irregularities of conduct should -bound ;
especially in a state of things so uncommon, and when the
degree, extent, swiftness, and power of the operation is so
very extraordinary, and so new, that there has not been
time and experience enough to give birth to rules for
people's conduct, and toe writings of divines do not
afford rules to direct us in such a state of things !
A great deal of noise and tumult, confusion and uproar,
darkness mixed with light, and evil with good, is always
to be expected in toe beginning of something very glorious
in toe state of things in human society, or the church of
God. After nature has long been shut up in a cold dead
state, when the sun returns in the spring, there is, together
with the increase of the light and heat of the sun, very
tempestuous weather, before all is settled calm and
serene, and all nature rejoices in its bloom and beauty. It
is in the new creation as it was in the old ; the Spirit of God
first moved upon the face of the waters, which was an occa
sion of great uproar and tumult. Things were then
gradually brought to a settled state, till at length all stood
forth in that beautiful, peaceful order, when the heavens
and the earth were finished, and God saw every thing that
he had made, and behold it was very good. When God
*is about to bring to pass something great and glorious in
the world, nature is in a ferment and struggle, and the
world as it were in travail. When God was about to
introduce the Messiah into the world, and a new, glorious

dispensation, he shook the heavens and the earth, and he
shook all nations. There is nothing that the church of God
is in Scripture more frequently represented by than vege
tables ; as a tree, a vine, com, &c. which gradually bring
forth their fruit, and are first green before they are ripe.
A great revival of religicjjj____jj£essly compared to this
gradual production of vegetablevlsa. lxi. 11. "As the
earth bringeth forth net bujj,-_fl_ as the garden causeth
the things toat are sown in'it to spring forth; so the Lord
God will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth
before all the nations." The church is in a special manner
compared to a palm-tree, (Cant. vii. 7, 8. Exod. xv. 27.
1 Kings vi. 29. Psal. xcii. 12.) of which it is observed,
That toe fruit of it, though very sweet and good when
ripe, has, while unripe, a mixture of poison.
The weakness of human nature has always appeared in
times of great revival of religion, by a disposition to run to
extremes, and get-.into_confusinn ; and especially in these
three things, ^riffmsjasm, s^erstition> and intemperate
(_eal> So it appeareaTn the trhre-bTthe reformation very
remafkably, and even in the days of the apostles. Many
were exceedingly disposed to lay weight on those things
that were very chimerical, giving heed to fables, (1 Tim. i.
4. and iv. 7. 2 Tim. ii. 16. and ver. 23. and Tit. i. 14.
and iii. 9.) Many, as ecclesiastical history informs us,
fell off into the most wild enthusiasm, and extravagant
notions of spirituality, and extraordinary illumination from
heaven beyond others ; and many were prone to supersti
tion, will-worship, and a voluntary humility, giving heed
to the commandments of men, being fond of an unprofit
able bodily exercise, as appears by many passages in the
apostles' writings. And what a proneness then appeared
among professors to swerve from the path of duty, and the
spirit ofthe gospel, in the exercises of a rash indiscreet zeal,
censuring and condemning ministers and people ; one
saying, lam of Paul ; another, I am of Apollos ; another,
I am of Cephas. — They judged one another for differences
of opinion about smaller matters, unclean meats, holy
days and holy places, and their different opinions and
practices respecting civil intercourse and communication
with their heathen neighbours. And how much did vain
jangling, disputing, and confusion prevail, through undue
heat of spirit, under the name of a religious zeal ! (1 Tim.
vi. 4, 5. 2 Tim ii. 16. and Tit. iii. 9.) and what a task
had the apostles to keep them within bounds, and main
tain good order in the churches ! How often do they
mention their irregularities ! The prevailing of such like
disorders seems to have been the special occasion of
writing many of their epistles. The church in that great
effusion of the Spirit, and under strong impressions, had
the care of infallible guides, that watched over toem day
and night; but yet, so prone were they, through the
weakness and corruption of human nature, to get out of
the way, that irregularity and confusion arose in some
churches, where there was an extraordinary outpouring of
the Spirit, to a very great height, even in the apostles'
lifetime, and under their eye. And though some of toe
apostles lived long to settle the state of things, yet, pre
sently after their death the christian church ran into many
superstitions and childish notions and practices, and in
some respects into a great severity in their zeal. And let
any wise person, that has not in the midst of the disputes
of the present day got beyond the calmness of considera
tion, impartially consider, to what lengths we may reason
ably suppose many of the primitive Christians, in their
heat of zeal, and under their extraordinary impressions,
would soon have gone, if toey had not had inspired
guides. Is it not probable, that the church of Corinth in
particular, by an increase of their irregularities and con
tentions, would in a little time have been btoken to pieces,
and dissolved in a state of the utmost confusion ? And
yet this would have been no evidence that there had not
been a most glorious and remarkable outpouring of the
Spirit in toat city. But as for us, we have no infallible
apostle to guide and direct us, to rectify disorders, and
reclaim us when we are wandering ; but every one does
what is right in his own eyes ; and they that err in judg
ment, and are got into a wrong path, continue to wander,
till experience of the mischievous issue convinces them of
their error.

Sect. III.

WE SHOULD NOT JUDGE OF THE WHOLE BY A PART.

373

If we look over this affair, and seriously weigh it in its
circumstances, it will appear a matter of no great difficulty
to account for the errors that have been gone into, suppos
ing the work in general to be from a very great outpouring
of the Spirit of God. It may easily be accounted for, that
many have run into just such errors as they have. It is
known, that some who have been great instruments to
promote this work were very young. They were newly
awaked out of sleep, and brought out of that state of
darkness, insensibility, and spiritual death, in which
they had been ever since they were born. A new and
wonderful scene opens to them ; and they have in view
the reality, the vastness, the infinite importance, and
nearness of spiritual and eternal things ; and at the same
time are surprised to see the world asleep about them.
They have not the advantage of age and experience, and
have had but little opportunity to study divinity, or to
converse with aged experienced Christians and divines.
How natural is it then for such to fall into many errors
with respect to the state of mankind, with which they are
so surprised, and with respect to the means and methods
of their relief? Is it any wonder that they have not at
once learned how to make allowances, and that toey do
not at once find out that method of dealing with the
world, which is adapted to the mysterious state and nature
of mankind ? Is it any wonder that toey cannot at once
foresee toe consequences of things, what evils are to be
guarded against, and what difficulties are like to arise ?
We have been long in a strange stupor : The influences
of the Spirit of God upon the heart have been but little felt,
and toe nature of them but little taught ; so that they are
in many respects new to great numbers of those who have
lately fallen under them. And is it any wonder that they
who never before had experience of the supernatural
influence of the Divine Spirit upon their souls, and never
were instructed in the nature of these influences, do not
so well know how to distinguish one extraordinary new
impression from another, and so (to themselves insensibly)
run into enthusiasm, taking every strong impulse or im
pression to be divine? How natural is it to suppose, that
among the multitudes of illiterate people who find them
selves so wonderfully changed, and brought into such new
circumstances, many should pass wrong and very strange
judgments of both persons and things about them ! Now
they behold them in a new light, and in their surprise they
go further from the judgment that they were wont to make
of them than they ought, and, in their great change of
sentiments, pass from one extreme to another. And why
should it be thought strange, that those who scarce ever
heard of any such thing as an outpouring of the Spirit of
God before ; or, if they did, had no notion of it ; do not
know how to behave themselves in such a new and strange
state of things ? And is it any wonder that they are ready
to hearken to those who have instructed them, who have
been the means of delivering them from such a state of
death and misery as they were in before, or have a name
for being the happy instruments of promoting the same
work among others ? Is it unaccountable that persons in
these circumstances are ready to receive every thing they
say, and to drink down error as well as truth from them ?
And why should there be all indignation, and no compas
sion, towards those who are thus misled ?
These persons are extraordinarily affected with a new
sense, and recent discovery, of the greatness and excellency
of the Divine Being, the certainty and infinite importance
of eternal things, the preciousness of souls, and the dread
ful danger and madness of mankind, together with a great
sense of God's distinguishing kindness and love to them.
Is it any wonder that now they think they must exert them
selves, and do something extraordinary for the honour of
God and the good of souls ? They know not how to sit
still, and forbear speaking and acting with uncommon
earnestness and vigour. And in these circumstances, if
they be not persons of more than common steadiness and
discretion, or have not some person of wisdom to direct
them, it is a wonder if they do not proceed without due
caution, and do things that are irregular, and that will, in
the issue, do much more hurt than good.
Censuring others is the worst disease with which this
affair has been attended. But this is indeed a time of

great temptation to this sinful error. When there has been
a long-continued deadness, and many are brought out of a
state of nature in so extraordinary a manner, and filled
with such uncommon degrees of light, it is natural for such
to form their notions of a state of grace wholly from what
they experience. Many of them know no other way ; for
they never have been taught much about a state of grace,
the different degrees of grace, and the degrees of darkness
and corruption with which grace is compatible, nor con
cerning the manner of the influences of the Spirit in con
verting a soul, and the variety of the manner of his opera
tions. They therefore forming their idea of a state of grace
only by their own experience, no wonder that it appears
an insuperable difficulty to them to reconcile such a state,
of which they have this idea, with what they observe in
professors about them. It is indeed in itself a very great
mystery, that grace should be compatible with so much
and such kind of corruption as sometimes prevails in the
truly godly ; and no wonder that it especially appears so
to uninstructed new converts, who have been converted in
an extraordinary manner—
Thougb/censonousness p very sinful, and is most com
monly foundHrr-irypTjcrtfes and persons of a pharisaical-
spirit, yet it is not so inconsistent with true godliness as
some imagine. We have remarkable instances of it in
those-hply men of whom we have an account in the book
of(Jobo Not only were Job's three friends, who seem to
have-been eminently holy men, guilty of it, in very unrea
sonably censuring the best man r?n earth — very positively
determining that he was an unconverted man — but Job
himself, who was not only a man of true piety, but
excelled all men in piety, and particularly excelled in an
humble, meek, and patient spirit, was guilty of bitterly
censuring his three friends, as wicked, vile hypocrites, Job
xvi. 9 — 11. " He teareth me in his wrath who hateth me,
he gnasheth upon me with his teeth ; mine enemy sharpen-
eth his eyes upon me : they have gaped upon me with
their mouth. — God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and
turned me over into the hands of the wicked." He is very
positive that they are hypocrites, and shall be miserably
destroyed as such, Job xvii. 2 — 4. " Are there not mockers
with me? and doth not mine eye continue in their pro
vocation ? Lay down now, put me in surety with thee ;
who is he that will strike hands with me? For thou hast
hid their heart from understanding, therefore shalt thou not
exalt them." And again, ver. 8 — 10. " Upright men shall
be astonished at this, and the innocent shall stir up himself
against the hypocrite ; the righteous also shall hold on his
way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stronger and
stronger. But as for you all, do you return and come
now, for I cannot find one wise man (i. e. one good mau)
among you."
Thus, I think, the errors and irregularities that attend
this work may be accounted for, from the consideration of
the infirmity and common corruption of mankind, together
with the circumstances of the work, though we should
suppose it to be the work of God. And it would not be
a just objection in any to say, if these powerful impressions
and great affections are from the Spirit of God, why does
not the same Spirit give strength of understanding and
capacity in proportion, to those persons who are the sub
jects of them ; so that strong affections may not, through
their error, drive them to an irregular and sinful conduct ?
I do not know that God has any where obliged himself to
do it. The end of the influences of God's Spirit is, to
make men spiritually wise to salvation, which is the most
excellent wisdom ; and he has also appointed means for
our gaining such degrees of other knowledge as we need,
to conduct ourselves regularly, which means should be
carefully used. But the end of the influence of the Spirit
of God is not to increase men's natural capacities, nor has
God obliged himself immediately to increase civil prudence
in proportion to the degrees of spiritual light.
If we consider the errors that attend this work, not only
as from man and his infirmity, but also as from God and
by his permission and disposal, they are not strange, upon
the supposition of its being, as to the substance of it, a
work of God. If God intends this great revival of religion
to be the dawning of a happy state of his church on earth,
it may be an instance of the divine wisdom, in the begin-

374

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part I.

ning of it, to suffer so many irregularities and errors in
conduct, to which he knew men in their present weak
state were most exposed, under great religious affections,
and when animated with great zeal. For it is very likely
to be of excellent benefit to his church, in the continuance
and progress of the work afterwards. Their experience, in
the first setting out, of the mischievous consequences of
these errors, and smarting for them in the beginning, may
be a happy defence to them afterwards, for many genera
tions, from these errors, which otherwise they might con
tinually be exposed to. As when David and all Israel
went about to bring back the ark into the midst of the
land, after it had been long absent, first in the land of the
\ThTlislines^i and then in Kitjath-jearim, in the utmost bor-
clersof the land; they at first sought not the Lord after
the due order, and they smarted for their error : but this
put them upon studying the law, and more thoroughly
acquainting themselves with the mind and will of God,
and seeking and serving him with greater circumspection.
The consequence was glorious, viz. their seeking God in
such a manner as was accepted of him. The ark of God
ascended into the heights of Zion, with great and extraor
dinary rejoicings of the king and all the people, without
any frown or rebuke from God intermixed ; and God
dwelt thenceforward in the midst of the people for those
glorious purposes expressed in the 68th Psalm.
It is very analogous to the manner of God's dealing
with his people, to permit a great deal of error, and suffer
the infirmity of his people to appear, in the beginning of a
glorious work of his grace, for their felicity, to teach them
what they are, to humble them, and fit them for that glo
rious prosperity to which he is about to advance them, and
the more to secure to himself the honour of such a glorious
work. For, by man's exceeding weakness appearing in
the beginning of it, it is evident that God does not lay the
foundation of it in man's strength or wisdom. — And as we
need not wonder at the en'ors that attend this work, if we
look at the hand of men %vho are guilty of them, and the
hand of God in permitting them : so neither shall we see
cause to wonder if we consider them with regard to the
hand that Satan has in them. For, as the work is much
greater than any other that ever has been in New Eng
land; so, no wonder that the devil is more alarmed and
enraged, that he exerts himself more vigorously against it,
and more powerfully endeavours to tempt and mislead the
subjects and promoters of it.

SECT. IV.
The \nature of the work in general.
Whatever imprudences there have been, and whatever
sinful irregularities ; whatever vehemence of the passions,
and heats of the imagination, transports, and ecstasies :
whatever error in judgment, and indiscreet zeal ; and what
ever outcries, faintings, and agitations of body; yet, it is
manifest and notorious, that there has been of late a very
uncommon influence upon the minds of a very great part
of the inhabitants of New England, attended with the best
effects. There has been a great increase of seriousness,
and sober consideration of eternal things ; a disposition to
hearken to what is said of such things, with attention and
affection ; a disposition to treat matters of religion with
solemnity, and as of great importance ; to make these
things the subject of conversation ; to hear the word of
God preached, and to take all opportunities in order to it ;
to attend on the public worship of God, and all external
duties of religion, in amore solemn and decent manner; so
that there is a remarkable and general alteration in the face
of New England in these respects. Multitudes in all parts
of the land, of vain, thoughtless, regardless persons, are
quite changed, and become serious and considerate. There
is a vast increase of concern for the salvation of the pre
cious soul, and of that inquiry, What shall I do to be
saved? The hearts of multitudes had been greatly taken
off from the things of the world, its profits, pleasures, and
honours. Multitudes in all parts have had their con
sciences awakened, and have been made sensible of the
oernicious nature and consequences of sin, and what a

dreadful thing it is to be under guilt and the displeasure
of God, and to live without peace'and reconciliation with
him. They have also been awakened to a sense of the
shortness and uncertainty of life, and the reality of another
world and future judgment, and of the necessity of an
interest in Christ. They are more afraid of sin, more care
ful and inquisitive that they may know what is contrary to
the mind and will of God, that they may avoid it, and what
he requires of them, that they may do it, more careful to
guard against temptations, more watchful over their own
hearts, earnestly desirous of knowing and of being diligent
in the use of the means that God has appointed in his
word, in order to salvation. Many very stupid, senseless
sinners, and persons of a vain mind, have been greatly
awakened. There is a strange alteration almost all over New Eng
land amongst young people : by a powerful invisible in
fluence on their minds, they have been brought to forsake,
in a general way, as it were at once, those things of which
they were extremely fond, and in which they seemed to
place the happiness of their lives, and which nothing before
could induce them to forsake; as their frolicking, vain
company-keeping, night-walking, their mirth and jollity,
their impure language, and lewd songs. In vain did
ministers preach against those things before, in vain were
laws made to restrain them, and in vain was all the vigi
lance of magistrates and civil officers ; but now they have
almost every where dropt them as it were of themselves.
And there is great alteration amongst old and young as to
drinking, tavern-haunting, profane speaking, and extra
vagance in apparel. Many notoriously vicious persons
have been reformed, and become externally quite new
creatures. Some that are wealthy, and of a fashionable,
gay education ; some great beaus and fine ladies, that
seemed to have their minds swallowed up with nothing
but the vain shows and pleasures of the world, have been
wonderfully altered, have relinquished these vanities, and
are become serious, mortified, and humble in their con
versation. It is astonishing to see the alteration there is
in some towns, where before there was but little appear
ance of religion, or any thing but vice and vanity. And
now they are transformed into another sort of people ;
their former vain, worldly, and vicious conversation and
dispositions s«tm__o_be forsaken, and they are, as it were,
gone over to a(new worldi Their thoughts, their talk, and
their concern, affeetioi-rj-and inquiries are now about the
favour of God, an interest in Christ, a renewed sanctified
heart, and a spiritual blessedness, acceptance, and happi
ness in a future world.
Now, through the greatest part of New England, the
holy Bible is in much greater esteem and use than before.
The gi'eat things contained in it are much more regarded,
as things of the greatest consequence, and are much more
the subjects of meditation and conversation : and other
books of piety that have long been of established reputa
tion, as toe most excellent, and most tending to promote
true godliness, have been abundantly more m use. The
Lord s day is more religiously and strictly observed.
And much has been lately done at making up differences,
confessing faults one to another, and making restitution :
probably more within two years, than was done in thirty
years before. It has been undoubtedly so in many places.
And surprising has been the power of this spirit, in many
instances, to destroy old grudges, to make up long-con
tinued breaches, and to bring those who seemed to be in
a confirmed irreconcilable alienation, to embrace each
other in a sincere and entire amity. Great numbers under
this influence have been brought to a deep sense of their
own sinfulness and vileness ; the sinfulness of their lives,
the heinousness of their disregard of the authority of the
great God, and of toeir living in contempt of a Saviour.
They have lamented their former negligence of their souls,
and their neglecting and losing precious time. The sins
of their life have been extraordinarily set before them ; and
they have had a great sense of their hardness of heart,
their enmity against that which is good, and proneness to
all evil ; and also of the worthlessness of their own religious
performances, how unworthy of God's regard were their
prayers, praises, and all that they did in religion. It has
been a common thing, that persons have had such a sense

Sect. IV.

THE NATURE OF THE WORK IN GENERAL.'

375

of their own sinfulness, that they have thought themselves
to be the worst of all, and that' none ever was so vile as
they. And many seem to have been greatly convinced
that they were utterly unworthy of any mercy at the hands
of God, however miserable they were, and though they
stood in extreme necessity of mercy ; and that they de
served nothing but eternal burnings. They have been
sensible that God would be altogether just and righteous
in inflicting endless damnation upon them, at the same
time toat they have had an exceedingly affecting sense of
the dreadfulness of such endless torments, and apprehend
ed themselves to be greatly in danger of it. And many
have been deeply affected with a sense of their own igno
rance and blindness, and exceeding helplessness, and so of
their extreme need ofthe divine pity and help.
Multitudes in JVeio England have lately been brought
to a new and great conviction of the truth and certainty of
the things of the gospel ; to a firm persuasion that Christ
Jesus is the Son of God, and the great and only Saviour
of the world ; and that the great doctrines of toe gospel
touching reconciliation' by his blood, and acceptance in
his righteousness, and eternal life and salvation through
him, are matters of undoubted truth. They have had a
most affecting sense of the excellency and sufficiency of
this Saviour, and the glorious wisdom and grace of God
shining in this way of salvation ; and of the wonders of
Christ s dying love, and the sincerity of Christ in the in
vitations of the gospel. They have experienced a conse
quent affiance and sweet rest of soul in Christ, as a glorious
Saviour, a strong rock and high tower ; accompanied with
an admiring and exalted apprehension of the glory of the
divine perfections, God's majesty, holiness, sovereign
grace, &c. — with a sensible, strong, and sweet love to God,
and delight in him, far surpassing all temporal delights,
or earthly pleasures ; and a rest of soul in him, as a por
tion and the fountain of all good. And this has been
attended with an abhorrence of sin, and self-loathing for it,
and earnest longings of soul after more holiness and con
formity to God, with a sense of the great need of God's
help in order to holiness of life ; together toey have had a
most dear love to all that are supposed to be the children
of God, and a love to mankind in general, and a most
sensible and tender compassion for the souls of sinners,
and earnest desires of the advancement of Christ's king
dom in the world. And these things have appeared with
an abiding concern to live a holy life, and great complaints
of remaining corruption, and a longing to be more free
from the body of sin and death. And not only do these
effects appear in new converts, but great numbers of those
who were formerly esteemed the most sober and pious
people, have, under the influence of this work, been great
ly quickened, and their hearts renewed with greater degrees
of iight, renewed repentance and humiliation, and more
lively exercises of faith, love, and joy in the Lord. Many
have been remarkably engaged to watch, and strive, and
fight against sin ; to cast out every idol, sell all for Christ,
give up themselves entirely to God, and make a sacrifice
of every worldly and carnal thing to the welfare and pros
perity of their souls. And there has of late appeared in
some places an unusual disposition to bind themselves to
it in a solemn covenant with God. And now, instead of
meetings at taverns and drinking-houses, and of young
people in frolics and vain company, the country is full of
meetings of all sorts and ages of persons — young and old,
men, women, and little children — to read and pray, and sing
praises, and to converse of the things of God and another
world. In very many places the main of the conversation
in all companies turns on religion, and things of a spiritual
nature. Instead of vain mirth among young people, there
is now either mourning under a sense of the guilt of sin,
or holy rejoicing in Christ Jesus : and, instead of their
lewd songs, there are now to be heard from them songs of
praise to God, and the Lamb that was slain to redeem
them by his blood. And there has been this .a_er__ion
abiding on multitudes all over the land, for a year and a"
halOvithout any appearance of a disposition toreturn to
former vice and vanity.
And, under the influences of this work, there have been
many of the remains ofjhose wretched people and dregs
of mankind, the poor(_n_iareSj,>that seemed to be next to a

state of brutality, and with whom, till now, it seemed to be
to little more purpose to use endeavours for their instruc
tion and awakening, than with the beasts. Their minds
have now been strangely opened to receive instruction, and
been deeply affected with the concerns of their precious
souls ; they have reformed their lives, and forsaken their
former stupid, barbarous, and brutish way of living ; and
fiarticularly that sin to which they have been so exceeding-
y addicted, their drunkenness. Many of them to appear
ance brought truly and greatly to delight in the things of
God, and to have their souls very much engaged and en
tertained with the great things of the gospel. And many
of the poor j-egroes also have been in like manner wrought
upon and changed;'' Very many little children have been
remarkably enlightened, and their hearts wonderfully af
fected and enlarged, and their mouths opened, expressing
themselves in a manner far beyond their years, and to the
just astonishment of those who have heard them. Some
of them for many months, have been greatly and delight
fully affected with the glory of divine things, and the ex
cellency and love of the Redeemer, with their hearts
greatly filled with love to and joy in him ; and they have
continued to be serious and pious in their behaviour.
The divine power of this work has marvellously appear
ed in some instances I have been acquainted with ; in sup
porting and fortifying the heart under great trials, such as
the death of children, and extreme pain of body ; and in
wonderfully maintaining the serenity, calmness, and joy of
the soul, in an immoveable rest in God, and sweet resigna
tion to him. And some under the blessed influences of
this work have, in a calm, bright, and joyful frame of mind,
been carried through the valley ofthe shadow of death.
And now let us consider :  Is it not strange that in a
christian country, and such a land of light as this is, there
are many at a loss to conclude whose work this is, whether
the work of God or the work of the devil ? Is it not a
shame to New England that such a work should be much
doubted of here ? Need we look over the histories of all
past times, to see if there be not some circumstances and
external appearances that attend this work, which have
been formerly found amongst enthusiasts ? Whether the
Montanists had not great transports of joy, and whether
the French prophets had not agitations of body ? Blessed
be God ! he does not put us to the toil of such inquiries.
We need not say, Who shall ascend into heaven, to bring
us down something whereby to judge of this work? Nor
does God send us bevond the seas, nor into past ages, to
obtain a rule that shall determine and satisfy us : but we
have a rule near at hand, a sacred book that God himself
has put into our hands, with clear and infallible marks,
sufficient to resolve us in things of this nature ; which
book I think we must reject, not only in some particular
passages, but in the substance of it, if we reject such a
work as has now been described, as not being the work of
God. The whole tenor of the gospel proves it; all the
notion of religion that the Scripture gives us confirms it.
I suppose there is scarcely a minister in this land, but
from Sabbath to Sabbath is used to pray that God would
pour out his Spirit, and work a reformation and revival of
religion in the country, and turn us from our intemperance,
profaneness, uncleanness, wordliness, and other sins ; and
we have kept from year to year, days of public fasting and
prayer to God, to acknowledge our backslidings, and
humble ourselves for our sins, and to seek of God for
giveness and reformation : and now when so great and ex
tensive a reformation is so suddenly and wonderfully ac
complished, in those very things that we have sought to
God for, shall we not acknowledge it ? or, do it with great
coldness, caution, and reserve, and scarcely take any notice
of it in our public prayers and praises, or mention it but
slightly and cursorily, and in such a manner as carries an
appearance as though we would contrive to say as little of
it as ever we could, and were glad to pass from it ? And
that because the work is attended with a mixture of error,
imprudences, darkness, and sin ; because some persons are
earned away wito impressions, and are indiscreet, and too
censorious with their zeal ; and because there are high
transports of religious affections ; and some effects on their
bodies of which we do not understand the reason.

370

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part I.

SECT. V/"~-~-.
The nature of the work in a particular instance.
1 have been particularly acquainted- with many persons
who have been the subjects of the high and extraordinary
transports of the present day. But in the highest transports
I have been acquainted with, and where the affections of
admiration, love, and joy, so far as another could judge,
have been raised to the highest pitch, the following things
have been united, viz. A very frequent dwelling for some
considerable time together, in views of the glory of the di
vine perfections and Christ's excellencies ; so that the soul
has been as it were perfectly overwhelmed, and swallowed
up with light and love, a sweet solace, and a rest and joy of
soul altogether unspeakable. The person has more than
once continued for five or six hours together, without in
terruption, in a clear and lively view or sense of the in
finite beauty and amiableness of Christ's person, and the
heavenly sweetness of his transcendent love. So that (to
use the person's own expressions) the soul remained in a
kind of heavenly elysium, and did as it were swim in the
rays of Christ's love, like a little mote swimming in the
beams of the sun that come in at a window. The heart was
swallowed up in a kind of glow of Christ's love coming
down as a constant stream of sweet light, at the same time
the soul all flowing out in love to him ; so that there
seemed to be a constant flowing and reflowing from heart
to heart. The soul dwelt on high, was lost in God, and
seemed almost to leave the body. The mind dwelt in a
pure delight that fed and satisfied it ; enjoying pleasure
without the least sting, or any interruption. And, (so far
as the judgment and word of a person of discretion may
be taken, speaking upon the most deliberate consideration,)
what was enjoyed in a single minute of the whole space,
which was many hours, was worth more than all the out
ward comfort and pleasure of the whole life put together ;
and this without being in any trance, or at all deprived ofthe
exercise of the bodily senses. And this heavenly delight has
been enjoyed for years together ; though not frequently so
long together to such a height. Extraordinary views of
divine things, and the religious affections, were frequently
attended with very great effects on the body. Nature often
sunk under the weight of divine discoveries, and the strength
of tbe body was taken away. The person was deprived of
all ability to stand or speak. Sometimes the hands were
clinched, and the flesh cold, but the senses remaining.
Animal nature was often in a great emotion and agitation,
and the soul so overcome with admiration, and a kind of
omnipotent joy, as to cause the person, unavoidably, to
leap with all the might, with joy and mighty exultation.
The soul at the same time was so strongly drawn towards
God and Christ in heaven, that it seemed to the person as
though soul and body would, as it were of themselves, of
necessity mount up, leave the earth, and ascend thither.
These effects on the body were not owing to the influ
ence of example, but began about seven years ago, when
there was no such enthusiastical season as many account
this, but it was a very dead time through the land. They
arose from no distemper catched from Mr. Whitefield, or
Mr. Tennant, because they began before either of them
came into the country. — Near three years ago, they greatly
increased, upon an extraordinary self-dedication, renun
ciation of the world, and resignation of all to God ; which
were made in a great view of God's excellency, in high
exercise of love to him, and rest and joy in him. Since
that time they have been very frequent ; and began in a yet
higher degree, and greater frequency, about a year and a
half ago, upon another new resignation of all to God, with
a yet greater fervency and delight of soul ; the body often
fainting with the love of Christ. — These effects appeared in
a higher degree still, the last winter, upon another resigna
tion to and acceptance of God, as the only portion and hap
piness of the soul, wherein the whole world, with the dear
est enjoyments in it, were renounced as dirt and dung.
All that "is pleasant and glorious, and all that is terrible in
this world, seemed perfectly to vanish into nothing, and
nothing to be left but God, in whom the soul was perfectly
swallowed up, as in an infinite ocean of blessedness. —
Since this time there have often been great agitations of

body, and an unavoidable leaping for joy ; and the soul as
it were dwelling, almost without interruption, in a kind of
paradise ; and very often, in high transports, disposed to
speak to others concerning the great and glorious things of
God, and Christ, and the eternal world, in a most earnest
manner, and with a loud voice, so that it is next to impos
sible to avoid it. These effects on the body did not arise
from any bodily distemper or weakness, because the great
est of all have been in a good state of health.
This great rejoicing has been with trembling, i.e. attend
ed with a deep and lively sense of the greatness and ma
jesty of God, and the person's own exceeding littleness
and vileness. Spiritual joys in this person never were at
tended with the least appearance of laughter, or lightness,
either of countenance or manner of speaking ; but with a
peculiar abhorrence of such appearances in spiritual rejoic
ings. These high transports, when past, have had abiding
effects in the increase of sweetness, rest, and humility
which they have left upon the soul ; and a new engaged-
ness of heart to live to God's honour, and watch and fight
against sin. And these things took place not in the giddy
age of youth, nor in a new convert, or unexperienced
Christian, but in one that was converted above twenty-
seven years ago ; and neither converted nor educated in
that enthusiastic town of Northampton, (as some may be
ready to call it,) but in a town and family which none,
that I know of, suspected of enthusiasm. And these effects
were found in a Christian that has been long, in an un
common manner, growing in grace, and rising, by very
sensible degrees, to higher love to God, weanedness from
the world, mastery over sin and temptation, through great
1 trials and conflicts, long-continued smugglings and fight
ing with sin, earnest and constant prayer and labour in re
ligion, and engagedness of mind in the use of all means,
attended with a great exactness of life. — Which growth
has been attended, not only wito a great increase of reli
gious affections, but with a wonderful alteration of out
ward behaviour, in many things, visible to those who are
most intimately acquainted, so as lately to have become as
it were a new person ; and particularly in living so much
more above toe world, and in a greater degree of stedfast-
ness and strength in the way of duty and self-denial, main
taining the christian conflict against temptations, and con
quering from time to time under great trials ; persisting in
an unmoved, untouched calm and rest, under the changes
and accidents of time. The person had formerly, in lower
degrees of grace, been subject to unsteadiness, and many
ups and downs, in the frame of mind, being under great
disadvantages, through a vaporous habit of body, and often
subject to melancholy, and at times almost over-borne with
it, it having been so even from early youth ; but strength of
grace and divine light has of a long time wholly conquer
ed these disadvantages, and carried the mind, in a constant
manner, quite above all such effects. — Since that resigna
tion spoken of before, made near three years ago, every
thing of that nature seems to be overcome and crushed by
the power of faith and trust in God, and resignation to
him ; the person has remained in a constant uninterrupted
rest, humble joy in God, and assurance of his favour, with
out one hour's melancholy or darkness, from that day to
this ; vapours have had great effects on the body, such as
they used to have before, but the soul has been always out
of their reach. And this stedfastness and constancy has
remained through great outward changes and trials ; such
as times of the most extreme pain, and apparent hazard of
immediate death.
These transporting views and rapturous affections are
not attended with any enthusiastic disposition to follow
impulses, or any supposed prophetical revelations ; nor have
they been observed to be attended with any appearance of
spiritual pride, but very much of a contrary disposition, an
increase of humility and meekness, and a disposition in
honour to prefer others. And it is worthy to be remarked,
that when these discoveries and holy affections were evi
dently at the greatest height — which began early in the
morning of the holy Sabbath, and lasted for days together,
melting all down in the deepest humility and poverty of
spirit, reverence and resignation, and the sweetest meek
ness, and universal benevolence — these two things were
felt in a remarkable manner, viz. First, a peculiar aversion

Sect. V.

ITS NATURE IN A PARTICULAR INSTANCE.

377

to judging other professing Christians of good standing in
the visible church, with respect to their conversion or de
grees of grace ; or at all intermeddling with that matter, so
much as to determine against and condemn others in the
thoughts of the heart. Such want of candour appeared hate
ful, as not agreeing with that lamb-like humility, meek
ness, gentleness, and charity, which the soul then, above
other times, saw to be beautiful. The disposition then felt
was, on the contrary, to prefer others to self, and to hope
that they saw more of God and loved him better ; though
before, under smaller discoveries, and feebler exercises of
divine affection, there had been a disposition to censure and
condemn others. Secondly, another thing that was felt at
that time, was a very great sense of the importance of moral
social duties, and how great a part of religion lay in them.
There was such a new sense and conviction of this, be
yond what had been before, that it seemed to be as it were
a clear discovery then made to the soul. But, in general,
there has been a very great increase of a sense of these two
things, as divine views and divine love have increased.
The things already mentioned have been attended also
with the following things, viz. An extraordinary sense of
the awful majesty, greatness, and holiness of God, so as
sometimes to overwhelm soul and body ; a sense of the
piercing all-seeing eye of God, so as sometimes to take away
the bodily strength; and an extraordinary view of the infinite
terribleness of the wrath of God ; together with a sense of
the ineffable misery of sinners who are exposed to this
wrath. Sometimes the exceeding pollution of the person's
own heart, as a sink of all manner of abomination, and the
dreadfulness of an eternal hell of God's wrath, opened to
view both together. There was a clear view of a desert of
that misery, and that by the pollution ofthe best duties ;
yea, only by the irreverence, and want of humility, that at
tended once speaking of the holy name of God, when done
in the best manner that ever it was done. The strength
of the body was very often taken away with a deep mourn
ing for sin, as committed against so holy and good a God ;
sometimes with an affecting sense of actual sin, some
times especially indwelling sin, and sometimes the con
sideration of the sin of the heart as appearing in a parti
cular thing, as for instance, in that there was no greater
forwardness and readiness to self-denial for God and
Christ, who had so denied himself for us. Yea, sometimes
the consideration of sin that was in only speaking one
word concerning the infinitely great and holy God, has
been so affecting as to overcome toe strength of nature.
There has been a very great sense of the certain truth of
the great things revealed in the gospel ; an overwhelming
sense of the glory of the work of redemption, and the
way of salvation by Jesus Christ; of the glorious har
mony of the divine attributes appearing therein, as that
wherein mercy and truth are met together, and righteous
ness and peace have kissed each other. A sight of the
fulness and glorious sufficiency of Christ, has been so af
fecting as to overcome the body. A constant immovable
trust in God through Christ, with a great sense of his
strength and faithfulness, the sureness of his covenant and
the immutability of his promises, made the everlasting
mountains and perpetual hills to appear as mere shadows
to these things.
Sometimes the sufficiency and faithfulness of God, as
the covenant God of his people, appeared in these words,
I AM THAT I AM, in so affecting a manner as to
overcome the body. A sense of the glorious, unsearch
able, unerring wisdom of God in his works, both of crea
tion and providence, was such as to swallow up the soul,
and overcome the strength of the body. There was a
sweet rejoicing of soul at the thoughts of God being in
finitely and unchangeably happy, and an exulting glad
ness of heart that God is self-sufficient, and infinitely
above all dependence, and reigns over all, and does his will
-with absolute and uncontrollable power and sovereignty.
A sense of the glory of the Holy Spirit, as the great Com
forter, was such as to overwhelm both soul and body ;
only mentioning the word the Comforter, has imme
diately taken away all strength ; that word, as the person
expressed it, seemed great enough to fill heaven and earth.
There was a most vehement and passionate desire of the
honour and glory of God's name ; a sensible, clear, and

constant preference of it, not only to the person's own
temporal interest, but to his spiritual comfort in this world.
There was a willingness to suffer the hidings of God's face,
and to live and die in darkness and horror, if God's honour
should require it, and to have no other reward for it but
that God's name should be glorified, although so much of
the sweetness of the light of God's countenance had been
experienced. A great lamenting of ingratitude and the
defect of love to God, took away bodily strength ; and
there were very often vehement longings and faintings after
more love to C hrist, and greater conformity to him ; espe
cially longing after these two things, viz. to be more per
fect in humility and adoration. The flesh and heart seem
often to cry out for lying low before God, and adoring
him with greater love and humility. The thoughts of the
perfect humility with which the saints in heaven worship
God, and fall down before his throne, have often over
come the body, and set it into a great agitation. The per
son felt a great delight in singing praises to God and Jesus
Christ, and longing that this present life may be, as it
were, one continued song of praise to God. There was a
longing, as the person expressed it, to sit and sing this life
away ; and an overcoming pleasure in the thoughts of
spending an eternity in that exercise. Together with
living by faith to a great degree, there was a constant and
extraordinary distrust of our own strength and wisdom ; a
great dependence on God for his help in order to the per
formance of any thing to God's acceptance, and being re
strained from toe most horrid sins.
A sense of the black ingratitude of true saints, as to
coldness and deadness in religion, and their setting their
hearts on the things of this world, has overcome the
bodily frame. There was an experience of great longing
that all the children of God might be lively in religion,
fervent in their love, and active in the service of God ;
and, when there have been appearances of it in others, re
joicing so in beholding the pleasant sight, that the joy of
soul has been too great for the body. — The person took
pleasure in the thoughts of watching and striving against
sin, fighting through the way to heaven, and filling up this
life with hard labour, and bearing the cross for Christ, as
an opportunity to give God honour ; not desiring to rest
from labours till arrived in heaven, but abhorring the
thoughts of it, and seeming astonished that God's own
children should be backward to strive and deny them
selves for God. There were earnest longings toat all
God's people might be clothed with humility and meek
ness, like the Lamb of God, and feel nothing in their
hearts but love and compassion to all mankind ; and great
grief when any thing to the contrary appeared in any of
the children of God, as bitterness, fierceness of zeal, cen-
soriousness, or reflecting uncharitably on others, or dis
puting with any appearance of heat of spirit : a deep
concern for toe good of others' souls ; a melting compas
sion to those that looked on themselves as in a state of
nature, and to saints under darkness, so as to cause the
body to faint. There was found an universal benevolence
to mankind, with a longing as it were to embrace the
whole world in the arms of pity and love ; and ideas of
suffering from enemies the utmost conceivable rage and
cruelty, with a disposition felt to fervent love and pity in
such a case, so far as it could be realized in thought.
Sometimes a disposition was felt to a life given up to
mourning alone in a wilderness over a lost and miserable
world ; compassion towards them being often to that de
gree, that would allow of no support or rest, but in going
to God, and pouring out the soul in prayer for them.
Earnest desires were felt»that the work of God, now in the
land, may be carried on, and that with greater purity, and
freedom from all bitter zeal, censoriousness, spiritual pride,
hot disputes, &c. and a vehement and constant desire for
the setting up of Christ's kingdom through the earth, as a
kingdom of holiness, purity, love, peace, and happiness to
mankind. The soul often entertained, with unspeakable delight,
the thoughts of heaven, as a world of love ; where love
shall be the saints' eternal food, where they shall dwell
in the light, and swim in an ocean of love, and where the
very air and breath will be nothing but love ; love to the
people of God, or God's true saints, as having the image

378

' THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part I.

of Christ, and as those who will in a very little time shine
in his perfect image. The strength was very often taken
away with longings that others might love God more, and
serve God better, and have more of his comfortable pre
sence, than the person that was the subject of these long
ings ; desiring to follow the whole world to heaven, or
that every one should go before, and be higher in grace
and happiness, not by this person's diminution, but by
others' increase. This experience included a delight in
conversing on religious subjects, and in seeing Christians
together, talking of the most spiritual and heavenly things
in religion, in a lively and feeling manner ; and very fre
quently toe person was overcome with the pleasure of
such conversation. A great sense was often expressed, of
the importance of the duty of charity to the poor, and how
much the generality of Christians come short in the prac
tice of it. There was also a great sense of the need minis
ters have of much of the Spirit of God, at this day espe
cially ; and there were most earnest longings and wrestlings
with God for them, so as to take away the bodily strength.
It also included the greatest, fullest, longest continued, and
most constant assurance of the favour of God and of a
title to future glory, that ever I saw any appearance of in
any person, enjoying, especially of late, (to use the person's
own expression,) the riches of full assurance. Formerly
there was a longing to die with something of impatience ;
but lately, since that resignation forementioned, about
three years ago, an uninterrupted entire resignation to God
with respect to life or death, sickness or health, ease or
pain, which has remained unchanged and unshaken, when
actually under extreme and violent pains, and in times of
threatenings of immediate death. But notwithstanding
this patience and submission, the thoughts of death and
the day of judgment are always exceeding sweet to the
soul. This resignation is also attended with a constant
resignation of the lives of dearest earthly friends, and
sometimes when some of their lives have been imminently
threatened ; the person often expressing the sweetness of
the liberty of having wholly left toe world, and renounced
all for God, and having nothing but God, in whom is an
infinite fulness. These things have been attended with a
constant sweet peace and calm, and serenity of soul, with
out any cloud to interrupt it ; a continual rejoicing in all
the works of God's hands, the works of nature, and God's
daily works of providence, all appearing with a sweet
smile upon them ; a wonderful access to God by prayer,
as it were seeing him, and immediately conversing with
him, as much oftentimes (to use toe person's own expres
sions) as if Christ were here on earth, sitting on a visible
throne, to be*approached to and conversed with.
There have been frequent, plain, sensible, and immediate
answers of prayer, all tears wiped away, all former troubles
and sorrows of life forgotten, and all sorrow and sighing
fled away — excepting grief for past sins, and for remaining
corruption, and that Christ is loved no more, and that God
is no more honoured in the world ; and a compassionate
grief towards fellow-creatures — a daily sensible doing and
suffering every thing for God, for a long time past, eating,
working, sleeping, and bearing pain and trouble for God,
and doing all as the service of love, with a continual unin
terrupted cheerfulness, peace, and joy. Oh how good, said
the person once, is it to work for God in toe day-time, and
at night to lie down under his smiles ! High experiences
and religious affections in this person have not been
attended with any disposition at all to neglect the necessary
business of a secular calling, to spend the time in reading
and prayer, and other exercises of devotion ; but worldly
business has been attended with»great alacrity, as part of
the service of God : the person declaring that, it being
done thus, it was found to be as good as prayer. These
things have been accompanied with exceeding concern and
zeal for moral duties, and toat all professors may with
them adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour ; and an
uncommon care to perform relative and social duties, and
a noted eminence in them ; a great inoffensiveness of life
and conversation in the sight of others ; a great meekness,
gentleness, and benevolence of spirit and behaviour ; and
a great alteration in those things that formerly used to be
the person's failings ; seeming to be much overcome and
swallowed up by the late great increase of grace, to the

observation of toose who are most conversant and most
intimately acquainted.
In times of the brightest light and highest flights of love
and joy, there was found no disposition to the opinion of
being now perfectly free from sin, (according to the notion
of the Wesleys and their followers, and some other high
pretenders to spirituality in these days,) but exceedingly
the contrary. At such times especially, it was seen how
loathsome and polluted the soul is ; soul and body, and
every act and word, appearing like rottenness and corrup
tion in that pure and holy light of God's glory. The person
did not slignt instruction or means of grace any more for
having bad great discoveries ; on toe contrary, never was
more sensible of the need of instruction than now. And
one thing more may be added, viz. That these things have
been attended wito a particular dislike of placing religion
much in dress, and spending much zeal about those things
toat in themselves are matters of indifference, or an affect
ing to show humility and devotion by a mean habit, or a
demure and melancholy countenance, or any thing singular
and superstitious.

SECT. VI.
This work is very glorious.
Now if such things are enthusiasm, and the fruits of a
distempered brain, let my brain be evermore possessed of
that happy distemper ! If this be distraction, I pray God
that the world of mankind may be all seized with this
benign, meek, beneficent, beatifical, glorious distraction !
If agitations of body were found in the French prophets,
and ten thousand prophets more, it is little to toeir purpose
who bring it as an objection against such a work as this,
unless their purpose be to disprove the whole of the chris
tian religion. The great affections and high transports,
that others have lately been under, are in general of the
same kind with those in toe instance that has been given,
though not to so high a degree, and many of them not so
pure and unmixed, and so well regulated. I have had
opportunity to observe many instances here and elsewhere;
and though there are some instances of great affections in
which there has been a great mixture of nature with grace,
and, in some, a sad degenerating of religious affections ;
yet there is that uniformity observable, which makes it
easy to be seen, that in general it is toe same spirit from
whence the work in all parts of the land has originated.
And what notions have they of religion, toat reject what
has been described, as not true religion ! What shall we
find to answer those expressions in Scripture, " The peace
of God that passeth all understanding ; rejoicing with joy
unspeakable and full of glory, in believing in and loving
an unseen Saviour ; — All joy and peace in believing ; God's
shining into our hearts, to give the light of toe knowledge
of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ ; With
open face, beholding as in a glass the glory of toe Lord,
and being changed into the same image, from glory to
glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord ; — Having the
love of God shed abroad in our hearts, by the Holy Ghost
given to us ; — Having toe Spirit of God and of glory rest
upon us ; — A being called out of darkness into marvellous
light ; and having the day-star arise in our hearts :" — I say,
if those things which have been mentioned, do not answer
these expressions, what else can we find out toat does
answer them ? Those toat do not think such things as
these to be the fruits of the true Spirit, would do well to
consider what kind of spirit they are waiting and praying
for, and what sort of fruits they expect he should produce
when he comes. I suppose it will generally be allowed,
that there is such a thing as a glorious outpouring of the
Spirit of God to be expected, to introduce very joyful and
glorious times upon religious accounts ; times wherein
holy love and joy will be raised to a great height in true
Christians : but, if those things be rejected, what is left
that we can find wherewith to patch up a notion, or form
an idea, of the high, blessed, joyful religion of these times ?
What is there sweet, excellent, and joyful, of a religious
nature, that is entirely of a different nature from these
things ?

Sect. VI.

THIS WORK IS VERY GLORIOUS.

Those who are waiting for the fruits, in order to deter
mine whether this be the work of God or no, would do well
to consider, what they are waiting for : whether it be not to
have this wonderful "religious influence subside, and then
to see how they will behave themselves ? That is, to have
grace subside, and toe actings of it in a great measure to
cease, and to have persons grow cold and dead ; and then
to see whether, after that, they will behave themselves wit-
that exactness and brightness of conversation, that is to be
expected of lively Christians, or toose toat are in the
vigorous exercises of grace. There are many that will not
be satisfied wito any exactness or laboriousness in religion
now, while persons have their minds much moved, and
their affections are high ; for they lay it to their flash of
affection, and heat of zeal, as they call it; they are wait
ing to see whether they will carry themselves as well when
these affections are over ; that is, they are waiting to have
persons sicken and lose toeir strength, that they may see
whether they will then behave themselves like healthy
strong men. I would desire that toey would also con
sider, whetoer they be not waiting for more than is reason
ably to be expected, supposing this to be really a great
work of God, and much more than has been found in
former great outpourings of the Spirit of God, that have
been universally acknowledged in the christian church ?
Do not they expect fewer instances of apostacy and evi
dences of hypocrisy in professors, than were after that
great outpouring of the Spirit in the apostles' days, or that
which was in the time of the reformation ? And do not
they stand prepared to make a mighty argument of it
against this work,* if there should be lialf so many? And,
they would do well to consider how long they will wait to
see the good fruit of this work, before they will determine
in favour of it. Is not their waiting unlimited ? The
visible fruit toat is to be expected of a pouring out of the
Spirit of God on a country, is a visible reformation in that
country. What reformation has lately been brought to
pass in New England, by this work, has been before ob
served. And has it not continued long enough already, to
give reasonable satisfaction? If God cannot work on the
hearts of a people after such a manner, as reasonably to
expect it should be acknowledged in a year and a half, or
two years' time ; yet surely it is unreasonable that our ex
pectations and demands should be unlimited, and our
waiting without any bounds.
As there is the clearest evidence, from what has been
observed, that this is the work of God ; so it is evident
that it is a very great and wonderful and exceeding glori
ous work. — This is certain, that it is a great and wonderful
event, a strange revolution, an unexpected, surprising
overturning of things, suddenly brought to pass ; such as
never has been seen in New England, and scarce ever has
been heard of in any land. Wrio that saw the state of
things in New England a few years ago, would have
thought toat in so short a time there would be such a
change ? This is undoubtedly either a very great work of
God, or a great work of the devil, as to the main substance
of it. For though, undoubtedly, God and the devil may
work together at the same time, and in the same land';
and Satan will do his utmost endeavour to intrude, and,
by intermingling his work, to darken and hinder God's
work ; yet God and toe devil do not work together in
producing the same event, and in effecting toe same
change in toe hearts and lives of men. But it is apparent
that as to some things wherein the main substance of this
work consists, there is a likeness and agreement every
where : now this is either a wonderful work of God, or a
mighty work of toe devil : and so is either a most happy
event, greatly to be admired and rejoiced in, or a most
awful calamity. Therefore, if what has been said before
be sufficient to determine it to be, as to the main, the work
of God, then it must be acknowledged to be a very won
derful and glorious work of God.
Such a work is, in its nature and kind, the most glorious
of any work of God whatsoever, and is always so spoken of
in Scripture. It is the work of redemption (the great end
of all the other works of God, and of which toe work of cre
ation was but a shadow) in the event, success, and end of
it : it is the work of new creation, which is infinitely more
glorious than the old. I am bold to say, that the work of

379
God in the conversion of one soul, considered together with
the source, foundation, and purchase of it, and also the
benefit, end, and eternal issue of it, is a more glorious work
of God than the creation of the whole material universe.
It is toe most glorious of God's works, as it above all
others manifests the glory of God ; it is spoken of in Scrip
ture, as that which shows the exceeding greatness of God's
power, and the glory and riches of divine grace, and wherein
Christ has the most glorious triumph over his enemies, and
wherein God is mightily exalted. And it is a work above
all others glorious, as it concerns the happiness of man
kind ; more happiness, and a greater benefit to man, is
the fruit of each single drop of such a shower, than all the
temporal good of the most happy revolution, or all that a
people could gain by the conquest of the world.
This work is very glorious both in its nature, and in its
degree and circumstances. It will appear very glorious, if
we consider the unworthiness of the people who are the
subjects of it ; what obligations God has laid us under by
the special privileges we have enjoyed for our souls' good,
and the great things God did for us at our first settlement
in toe land ; how he has followed us with his goodness to
this day, and how we have abused his goodness ; how
long we have been revolting more and more, (as all con
fess,) and how very corrupt we were become at last ; in
how great a degree we had forsaken the fountain of living
waters ; how obstinate we have been under all manner of
means that God has used to reclaim us ; how often we
have mocked God with hypocritical pretences of humili
ation, as in our annual days of public fasting, and other
things, while, instead of reforming, we only grew worse
and worse ; and how dead a time it was every where be
fore this work began. If we consider these things, we
shall be most stupidly ungrateful, if we do not acknow
ledge God's visiting us as he has done, as an instance of
theglorious triumph of free and sovereign grace.
The work is very glorious, if we consider the extent of
it ; being in this respect vastly beyond any that ever was
known in New England. There has formerly sometimes
been a remarkable awakening and success of the means of
grace, in some particular congregations ; and this used to
be much noticed, and acknowledged to be glorious, though
the towns and congregations round about continued dead :
but now God has brought to pass a new thing, he has
wrought a great work, which has extended from one end
of the land to toe other, besides what has been wrought
in other British colonies in America.
The work is very glorious in the great numbers that
have, to appearance, been turned from sin to God, and so,
delivered from a wretched captivity to sin and Satan,
saved from everlasting burnings, and made heirs of eternal
glory. How high an honour and great a reward of their
labours, have some eminent persons of note in the church
of God signified that they should esteem it, if they should
be made the instruments of the conversion and eternal
salvation of but one soul ! And no greater event than that,
is thought worthy of great notice in heaven among toe
hosts of glorious angels, who rejoice and sing on such an
occasion. Now, when there are many thousands of souls
thus converted and saved, shall it be esteemed worth but
little notice, and be mentioned wito coldness and indiffer
ence here on earth, by those among whom such a work is
wrought. The work has been very glorious and wonderful in many
circumstances and events of it, wherein God has in an un
common manner made his hand visible and his power
conspicuous ; as in the extraordinary degrees of awaken
ing, and the suddenness of conversions in innumerable in
stances. How common a thing has it been for a great
part of a congregation to be at once moved by a mighty
invisible power ! and for six, eight, or ten souls to be con
verted to God (to all appearance) in an exercise, in whom
the visible change still continues ! How great an alteration
has been made in some towns, yea, some populous towns,
the change still abiding ! And how many very vicious
persons have been wrought upon, so as to become visibly
new creatures ! God has also made his hand very visible,
and his work glorious, in the multitudes of little children
that have been wrought upon. I suppose there have been
some hundreds of instances of this nature of late, any one

380

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part II.

of which formerly would have been looked upon so re
markable, as to be worthy to be recorded, and published
through the land. The work is very glorious in its influ
ences and effects on many who have been very ignorant
and barbarous, as I before observed of the Indians and
negroes. The work is also exceeding glorious in the high attain
ments of Christians, in the extraordinary degrees of light,
love, and spiritual joy, that God has bestowed upon great
multitudes. In this respect also, the land in all parts has
abounded with such instances, any one of which, if they
had happened formerly, would have been thought worthy
to be noticed by God's people throughout the British do
minions. The New Jerusalem in this respect has begun to
come down from heaven, and perhaps never were more
of the prelibations of heaven's glory given upon earth.
There being a great many errors and sinful irregularities
mixed with this work of God, arising from our weakness,

darkness, and corruption, does not hinder this work of
God's power and grace from being very glorious. Our
follies and sins in some respects manifest the glory of it.
The glory of divine power and grace is set off with the
greater lustre, by what appears at the same time of the
weakness of the earthen vessel. It is God's pleasure to
manifest the weakness and unworthiness of the subject, at
the same time that he displays the excellency of his power
and the riches of his grace. And I doubt not but some of
these things which make some of us here on earth to be
out of humour, and to look on this work with a sour dis
pleased countenance, heighten the songs of the angels,
when they praise God and the Lamb for what they see of
the glory of God's all-sufficiency, and the efficacy of
Christ's redemption. And how unreasonable is it that we
should be backward to acknowledge the glory of what
God has done, because the devil, and we inhearkening to
him, have done a great deal of mischief!

PART II.

SHOWING THE OBLIGATIONS THAT ALL ARE UNDER TO ACKNOWLEDGE, REJOICE IN, AND PROMOTE THIS WORK; AND
THE GREAT DANGER OF THE CONTRARY.

SECT. I.
The danger of lying still, and keeping lone silence, respect
ing any remarkable work of God.
There are many things in the word of God, showing
that when God remarkably appears in any great work for
his church, and against his enemies, it is a most dangerous
thing, and highly provoking to God, to be slow and
backward to acknowledge and honour God in toe work.
Christ's people are in Scripture represented as his army ;
he is the Lord of hosts, the Captain of the host of the
Lord, as he called himself when he appeared to Joshua,
with a sword drawn in his hand, Joshua v. 13 — 15. the
Captain of his people's salvation : and therefore it may
well be highly resented, if they do not resort to him when
he orders his banner to be displayed ; or if they refuse to
follow him when he blows the trumpet, and gloriously
appears going forth against his enemies. God expects that
every living soul should have his attention roused on such
an occasion, and should most cheerfully yield to the call,
and heedfully and diligently obey it. Isa. xviii. 3. " All
ye inhabitants of the world, and dwellers on the earth, see
ye when he lifteth up an ensign on toe mountains ; and
when he bloweth the trumpet, hear ye." Especially
should all Israel be gathered after their Captain, as we
read thev were after Ehud, when he blew the trumpet in
mount Ephraim, when he had slain Eglon king of Moab,
Judges iii. 27, 28. How severe is the martial law in such
a case, when any of the army refuses to obey the sound of
the trumpet, and follow his general to the battle ! God
at such a time appears in peculiar manifestations of his
glory ; and therefore, not to be affected and animated, and
to lie still, and refuse to follow God, will be resented as a
high contempt of him. Suppose a subject should stand
by, and be a spectator of the solemnity of his prince's
coronation, and should appear silent and sullen, when all
the multitude were testifying their loyalty and joy with
loud acclamations ; how greatly would he expose himself
to be treated as a rebel, and quickly to perish by the
authority of the prince that he refuses to honour !
At a time when God manifests himself in such a great
work for his church, there is no such thing as being
neuters ; there is a necessity of being either for or against
the king that then gloriously appears. When a king is
crowned, and there are public manifestations of joy on
that occasion, there is no such thing as standing by as an
indifferent spectator; all must appear as loyal subjects, and
express their joy on that occasion, or be accounted ene
mies. So when God, in any great dispensation of his
providence, remarkably sets his King on his holy hill of

Zion, Christ in an extraordinary manner comes down
from heaven to the earth, and appears in his visible church
in a great work of salvation for his people. When Christ
came down from heaven in his incarnation, and appeared
on earth in his human presence, there was no such thing
as being neuters, neither on his side nor against him.
Those who sat still and said nothing, and did not declare
for him, and come and join with him, after he, by his
word and works, had given sufficient evidence who he
was, were justly looked upon as bis enemies. Matt. xii.
30. " He that is not with me is against me ; and he that
gathereth not wito me, scattereth abroad." So it is when
Christ comes to carry on the work of redemption in the
application of it, as well as in its revelation and purchase.
If a king should come into one of his provinces, which
had been oppressed by its foes, where some of his subjects
had fallen off to the enemy, and joined with them against
their lawful sovereign and his loyal subjects ; I say, if the
royal sovereign himself should come into the province, and
should ride forth there against his enemies, and should
call upon all who were on his side to come and gather
themselves to him ; there would be no such thing, in such
a case, as standing neuter. They who lay still and staid
at a distance would undoubtedly be looked upon and
treated as rebels. So in the day of battle, when two
armies join, there is no such thing for any present as being
of neither party, all must be on one side or the other ; and
they who are not found with the conqueror in such a case,
must expect to have his weapons turned against them, and
to fall with the rest of his enemies.
When God manifests himself with such glorious power
in a work of this nature, he appears especially determined
to put honour upon bis Son, and to fulfil his oath that he
has sworn to him, that he would make every knee to bow,
and every tongue to confess to him. God hath had it
much on his heart, from all eternity, to glorify his dear
and only-begotten Son ; and there are some special
seasons that he appoints to that end, wherein he comes
forth with omnipotent power to fulfil his promise and oath
to him. Now these are times of remarkable pouring out
of his Spirit, to advance his kingdom ; such is a day of
his power, wherein his people shall be made willing, and
he shall rale in the midst of his enemies ; these especially
are the times wherein God declares his firm decree, that
his Son shall reign on his holy hill of Zion. And there
fore those who at such a time do not kiss the Son, as he
then manifests himself, and appears in toe glorv of his
majesty and grace, expose themselves to perish from the
way, and to be dashed in pieces with a rod of iron.
As such is a time wherein God eminently sets his King
on his holy hill of Zion, so it is a time wherein he remark-

Sect. I.

INDIFFERENCE TO GOD'S WORK, DANGEROUS.

ably fulfils that in Isa. xxviii. 16. " Therefore thus saith
the Lord God, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation, a
stone, a tried stone, a precious comer-stone, a sure foun
dation." Which the two apostles Peter and Paul (1 Pet.
ii. 6 — 8. and Rom. ix. 33.) join with that prophecy, Isa.
viii. 14, 15. " And he shall be for a sanctuary ; but for a
stone of stumbling, and for a rock of offence to both the
houses of Israel, for a gin and for a snare to the inhabit
ants of Jerusalem. And many among them shall stumble
and fall, and be broken, and be snared, and be taken." As
signifying that both are fulfilled together. Yea, both are
joined together by the prophet Isaiah himself; as you
may see in the context of that forementioned place, Isa.
xxviii. 16. In ver. 13. preceding, it is said, "But the word
of the Lord was unto them, precept upon precept, precept
upon precept, line upon line, line upon line, here a little
and there a little ; that they might go, and fall backward,
and be broken, and snared, and taken." And accordingly,
when Christ is in a peculiar and eminent manner mani
fested and magnified, by a glorious work of God in his
church, as a foundation and a sanctuary for some, he is
remarkably a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence, a
gin and a snare, to others. They who continue long to
stumble and to be offended and insnared in toeir minds,
at such a great and glorious work of Christ, in God's
account, stumble at Christ, and are offended in him ; for
the work is that by which he makes Christ manifest, and
shows his glory,- and by which he makes the stone that the
builders refused, to become the head of the corner. This
shows how dangerous it is to continue always stumbling
at such a work, for ever doubting of it, and forbearing
fully to acknowledge, it, and give God toe glory of it.
Such persons are in danger to go, and fall backward, and
be broken, and snared, and taken, and to have Christ a
stone of stumbling to toem, that shall be an occasion of
toeir ruin ; while he is to others a sanctuary, and a sure
foundation. The prophet Isaiah (Isa. xxix. 14.) speaks of God's
proceeding to do a marvellous work and a wonder, which
should stumble and confound toe wisdom of the wise and
prudent ; which the apostle in Acts xiii. 41 . applies to the
glorious work of salvation wrought in those days by the
redemption of Christ, and that glorious outpouring of the
Spirit to apply it which followed. The prophet in the
context of that place in Isa. xxix. speaking of the same
thing, and of toe prophets and rulers and seers, those wise
and prudent whose eyes God had closed, says to them,
ver. 9. " Stay yourselves and wonder." In the original
it is, " Be ye slow and wonder." I leave it to others to
consider whether it be not natural to interpret it thus,
" Wonder at this marvellous work ; let it be a strange
thing, a great mystery that you know not what to make
of, and that you are very slow and backward to acknow
ledge, long delaying to come to a determinati»n concern
ing it." And what persons are in danger, and are thus
slow to acknowledge God in such a work, we learn from
the apostle in that forementioned place, Acts xiii. 41.
" Behold, ye despisers, and wonder and perish ; for I work
a work in your days, a work which you shall in nowise
believe, though a man declare it unto you."
The church of Christ is called upon greatly to rejoice,
when at any time Christ remarkably appears, coming to
his church, to carry on the work of salvation, to enlarge
his own kingdom, and to deliver poor souls out of the pit
wherein there is no water. Zech. ix. 9, 10, 11. "Rejoice
greatly, O daughter of Zion ; shout, O daughter of Jeru
salem ; behold, toy King cometh unto thee ; he is just,
and having salvation : — His dominion shall be from sea
to sea. — As for thee also, by the blood of thy covenant, I
have sent forth thy prisoners out of the pit wherein is no
water." Christ was pleased to give a notable typical or
symbolical representation of such a great event as is spoken
of in that prophecy, in his solemn entry into the literal
Jerusalem, which was a type of the church or daughter of
Zion ; probably intending it as a figure and prelude of
that great actual fulfilment of this prophecy, that was to
be after his ascension, by the pouring out of the Spirit in
the days of the apostles, and that more full accomplish
ment that should be in toe latter ages of the christian
church. We have an account, that when Christ mad?

381
this his solemn entry into Jerusalem, and the whole
multitude of the disciples were rejoicing and praising God,
with loud voices, for all the mighty works that they had
seen, the Pharisees from among the multitude said to
Christ, Master, rebulte thy disciples ; but we are told,
Luke xix. 39, 40. Christ "answered and said unto them,
I tell you, that if these should hold their peace, the stones
would immediately cry out." Signifying, that if Christ's
professing disciples should be unaffected on such an oc
casion, and should not appear openly to acknowledge and
rejoice in the glory of God therein appearing, it would
manifest such fearful hardness of heart that the very stones
would condemn them. Should not this make those con
sider, who have held their peace so long since Christ has
come to our Zion having salvation, and so wonderfully
manifested his glory in this mighty work of his Spirit, and
so many of his disciples have been rejoicing ana praising
God with loud voices ?
It must be acknowledged, that so great and wonderful
a work of God's Spirit, is a work wherein God's hand is
remarkably lifted up, and wherein he displays his majesty,
and shows great favour and mercy to sinners, in the glo
rious opportunity he gives them, and by which he makes
our land to become much more a land of uprightness.
Therefore that place, Isa. xxvi. 10, 11. shows the great
danger of not seeing God's hand, and acknowledging his
glory and majesty, in such a work ; " Let favour be showed
to the wicked, yet will he not learn righteousness : In the
land of uprightness he will deal unjustly, and will not
behold the majesty of the Lord. Lord, when thy hand is
lifted up, they will not see ; but they shall see, and be
ashamed for their envy at the people ; yea, the fire of thine
enemies shall devour them."

SECT. II.
The latter-day glory, is probably to begin in America.
It is not unlikely that this work of God's Spirit, so
extraordinary and wonderful, is the dawning, or, at least,
a prelude of that glorious work of God, so often foretold
in Scripture, which, in the progress and issue of it, shall
renew the world of mankind. If we consider how long
since the things foretold as what should precede this great
event, have been accomplished ; and how long this event
has been expected by the church of God, and thought to
be nigh by the most eminent men of God in the church ;
and withal consider what the state of things now is, and
has for a considerable time been, in the church of God,
and the world of mankind ; we cannot reasonably think
otherwise, than that the beginning of this great work of
God must be near. And there are many things that make
it probable that this work will begin in America. — It is
signified that it shall begin in some very remote part of toe
world, with which other parts have no communication but
by navigation, in Isa. Ix. 9. " Surely the isles shall wait
for me, and the ships of Tnrshish first, to bring my sons
from far." It is exceeding manifest that this chapter is a
prophecy of the prosperity of the church, in its most glo
rious state on earth, in the latter days ; and I cannot think
that any thing else can be here intended but America by
the isles that are far off, from whence the first-bom sons
of toat glorious day shall be brought. Indeed, by the
isles, in prophecies of gospel-times, is very often meant
Europe. It is so in prophecies of that great spreading of
the gospel that should be soon after Christ's time, because
it was far separated from that part of the world where the
church of God had till then been, by the sea. But this
prophecy cannot have respect to the conversion of Europe,
va. the time of that great work of God, in the primitive
ages of the christian church ; for it was not fulfilled then.
The isles and ships of Turshish, thus understood, did not
wait for God first ; that glorious work did not begin in
Europe, but in Jerusalem, and had for a considerable time
been very wonderfully carried on in Asia, before it reached
Europe. And as it is not that work of God which is
chiefly intended in this chapter, but some more glorious
work that 'should be in the latter ages of toe christian
church ; therefore, some other part of the world is here

382

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Part II.

intended by the isles, that should be, as Europe then was,
far separated from that part of the world where the church
had before been, and with which it can have no commu
nication but by the ships of Tarshish. And what is chiefly
intended is not the British isles, nor any isles near the
other continent ; for they are spoken of as at a great dis
tance from that part of the world where the church had
till then been. This prophecy therefore seems plainly to
point out America, as the first-fruits of that glorious day.
God has made as it were two worlds here below, two
great habitable continents, far separated one from toe
other : The latter is as it were now but newly created ; it
has been, till of late, wholly the possession of Satan, the
church of God having never been in it, as it has been in
the other continent, from the beginning of the world.
This new world is probably now discovered, that the new
and most glorious state of God's church on earth might
commence there ; that God might in it begin a new world
in a spiritual respect, when he creates the new heavens
and new earth.
God has already put that honour upon the other conti
nent, that Christ was bom there literally, and there made
the purchase of redemption. So, as Providence observes a
kind of equal distribution of things, it is not unlikely toat
the great spiritual birth of Christ, and the mostglorious
application of redemption, is to begin in this. The elder
sister brought forth Judah, of whom Christ came, and so
she was the mother of Christ ; but the younger sister,
after long barrenness, brought forth Joseph and Benjamin,
the beloved children. Joseph who had toe most glorious
apparel, the coat of many colours ; who was separated
from his brethren, and was exalted to great glory out of a
dark dungeon — who fed and saved the world when ready
to perish with famine, and was as a fruitful bough by a
well, whose branches ran over toe wall, and was blessed
with all manner of blessings and precious things of heaven
and earth, through the good-will of him that dwelt in the
bush — was, as by the horns of an unicom, to push toe
people together, to the ends of the earth, i. e. conquer the
world. See Gen. xlix. 22, &c. and Deut. xxxiii. 13,
&c. And Benjamin, whose mess was five times so great
as that of any of his brethren, and to whom Joseph, that
type of Christ, gave wealth and raiment far beyond all
the rest, Gen. xfv. 22.
The other continent hath slain Christ, and has from age
to age shed the blood of the saints and martyrs of Jesus,
and has often been as it were deluged with toe church's
blood. God has therefore probably reserved the honour
of building the glorious temple to the daughter that has
not shed so much blood, when those times of the peace,
prosperity, and glory of the church, typified by the reign of
Solomon, shall commence.
The Gentiles first received the true religion from toe
Jews : God's church of ancient times had been among
them, and Christ was of them. But, that there may be a
kind of equality in the dispositions of providence, God
has so ordered it, that when the Jews come to be admitted
to the benefits of the evangelical dispensation, and to re
ceive their highest privileges of all, they should receive
the gospel from the Gentiles. Though Christ was of
them, yet they have been guilty of crucifying him ; it is
therefore the will of God, that toe Jews should not have
the honour of communicating the blessings of the king
dom of God in its most glorious state to toe Gentiles ;
but on the contrary, toey shall receive the gospel in the
beginning of that glorious day from the Gentiles. In
some analogy to this, I apprehend, God's dealings will
be wito the two continents. America has received the
true religion of the old continent ; the church of ancient
times has been there, and Christ is from thence. But
that there may be an equality, and inasmuch as toat con
tinent has crucified Christ, they shall not have the honour
of communicating religion in its most glorious state to us,
but we to them.
The old continent has been the source and original of
mankind, in several respects. The first parents of man-
* It is evident that the Holy Spirit, in those expressions in Psal. xix. 4, 6.
has respect to something else besides the natural sun, and that a regard is
had to the Sun of righteousness, who by his light converts the soul, makes
wise the simple, enlightens the eyes, and rejoices the heart ; and by his

kind dwelt there ; and there dwelt Noah and his sons ;
there the second Adam was born, and crucified and raised
again : and 'tis probable that, in some measure to balance
these things, the most glorious renovation of the world
shall originate from the new continent, and the church of
God in that respect be from hence. And so it is probable
that will come to pass in spirituals, which has taken place
in temporals, with respect to America ; that whereas, till
of late, the world was supplied with its silver, and gold,
and earthly treasures from the old continent, now it is
supplied chiefly from the new ; so the course of things in
spiritual respects will be in like manner turned.— And it is
worthy to be noted, that America was discovered about the
time of the reformation, or but little before: which re
formation was the first thing that God did towards the
glorious renovation of the world, after it had sunk into the
depths of darkness and ruin, under the great antichristian
apostacy. So that, as soon as this new world stands forth
in view, God presently goes about doing some great thing
in order to make way'for the introduction of the church's
latter-day glory— which is to have its first seat in, and is
to take its rise from, that new world.
It is agreeable to God's manner, when he accomplishes
any glorious work in the world, in order to introduce a
new and more excellent state of his church, to begin where
no foundation had been already laid, that the power of
God might be the more conspicuous ; that the work might
appear to be entirely God's, and be more manifestly a
creation out of nothing ; agreeable to Hos. i. 10. " And it
shall come to pass, that in the place where it was said
unto them, Ye are not my people, there it shall be said
unto them, Ye are the sons of the living God." When
God is about to turn the earth into a paradise, he does not
begin his work where there is some good growth already,
but in the wilderness, where nothing grows, and nothing
is to be seen but dry sand and barren rocks ; that the light
may shine out of darkness, the world be replenished from
emptiness, and the earth watered by springs from a
droughty desert ; agreeable to many prophecies of Scrip
ture, as Isa. xxxii. 15. " Until the Spirit be poured from
on high, and the wilderness become a fruitful field." And
chap. xii. 18, 19. " I will open rivers in high places, and
fountains in the midst of the valleys : I will make the
wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of
water. I will plant in toe wilderness the cedar, the
shittah-tree, and the myrtle, and oil-tree : 1 will set in the
desert the fir-tree, and the pine, and the box-tree together."
And chap, xliii. 20. " I will give waters in the wilderness,
and rivers in the desert, to give drink to my people, my
chosen." And many other parallel scriptures might be
mentioned. Now as, when God is about to do some great
work for his church, his manner is to begin at the lower
end ; so, when he is about to renew the whole habitable
earth, it is* probable that he will begin in this utmost,
meanest, youngest, and weakest part of it, where the
church of God has been planted last of all ; and so the
first shall be last, and the last first ; and that will be ful
filled in an eminent manner in Isa. xxiv. 19. " From the
uttermost part of the earth have we heard songs, even
glory to the righteous."
There are several things that seem to me to argue, that
the Sun of righteousness, the Sun of the new heavens and
new earth, when he rises — and comes forth as the bride
groom of his church, rejoicing as a strong man to run his
race, having his going forth from the end of heaven, and
his circuit to the end of it, that nothing may be hid from
the light and heat of it? — shall rise in the west, contrary
to the course of things in the old heavens and earth. The
movements of Providence shall in that day be so wondeiv
fully altered in many respects, that God will as it were
change the course of nature, in answer to the prayers of
his church ; as he caused the sun to go from the west to
the east, when he promised to do such great things for his
church ; a deliverance out of the hand of the king of As
syria, is often used by the prophet Isaiah, as a type of the
glorious deliverance of the church from her enemies in the
preached gospel enlightens and warms the world of mankind; by the
psalmist's own application hi ver. 7. and the apostle's application of ver. 4.
in Rom. x. 18.

Sect. Ill

DANGER OF SLIGHTING THIS WORK.

383

latter days. The resurrection as it were of Hezekiah, the
king and captain of the church, (as he is called, 2 Kings
xx. 5.) is given as an earnest of the church's resurrection
and salvation, Isa. xxxviii. 6. and is a type of the resur
rection of Christ. At the same time there is a resurrection
ofthe sun, or coming back and rising again from the west,
whither it had gone down ; which is also a type of the Sun
of righteousness. The sun was brought back ten degrees ;
which probably brought it to the meridian. The Sun of
righteousness has long been going down from east to west ;
and probably when the time comes of the church's deliver
ance from her enemies, so often typified by the Assyrians,
the light will rise in the west, till it shines through the
world tike the sun in its meridian brightness.
The same seems also to be represented by the course of
the waters of the sanctuary, Ezek. xlvii. which was from
west to east ; which waters undoubtedly represented the
Holy Spirit, in the progress of his saving influences, in the
latter ages of the world : for it is manifest, that the whole
of those last chapters of Ezekiel treat concerning the glo
rious state ofthe church at that time. And if we may sup
pose that this glorious work of God shall begin in any part
of America, I think, if we consider the circumstances ofthe
settlement of New England, it must needs appear the most
likely, of all American colonies, to be the place whence
this work shall principally take its rise. And, if these things
be so, it gives us more abundant reason to hope that what
is now seen in America, and especially in New England,
may prove the dawn of that glorious day : and the very
uncommon and wonderful circumstances and events of this
work, seem to me strongly to argue that God intends it as
the beginning or forerunner of something vastly great.

SECT. III.
The danger of not acknowledging and encouraging, and
especially of deriding, this work.
I have thus long insisted on this point, because, if these
things are so, it greatly manifests how much it behoves us
to encourage and promote this work, and how dangerous
it will be to forbear so doing. It is very dangerous for
God's professing people to lie still, and not to come to the
help- of the Lord, whenever he remarkably pours out his
Spirit, to carry on the work of redemption in the applica
tion of it ; but above all, when he comes forth, to introduce
that happy day of God's power and salvation, so often
spoken of. That is especially the appointed season of the
application of redemption. The appointed time of Christ's
reign. The reign of Satan as god of this world lasts till
then; but afterwards will be the proper time of actual
redemption, or new creation, as is evident by Isa. lxv. 17
18, &c. and lxvi. 12. and Rev. xxi. 1. All the outpour
ings of the Spirit of God before this, are as it were by way
of anticipation. There was indeed a glorious season of
the application of redemption in the first ages ofthe chris
tian church, which began at Jerusalem, on the day of Pen
tecost ; but that was not the proper time of ingathering.
It was only as it were the feast of first-fruits ; the ingather
ing is at the end of the year, or in the last ages of the
christian church, as is represented, Rev. xiv. 14—16. and
will probably as much exceed what was in the first ages
of the christian church, though that filled the Roman em
pire, as that exceeded all that had been before, under the
Old Testament, confined only to the land of Judea.
The great danger of not appearing openly to acknow
ledge, rejoice in, and promote that great work of God, in
bringing in that glorious harvest, is represented in Zech.
xiv. 16,17,18,19. "And it shall come to pass, that
every one that is left, of all the nations which came
against Jerusalem, shall even go up from year to year to
worship the King, the Lord of hosts, and to keep the
feast of tabernacles. And it shall be, that whoso will not
come up of all the families of the earth unto Jerusalem, to
worship the King, the Lord of hosts, even upon them
shall be no rain. And if the family of Egypt go not up,
and come not, that have no rain; there shall be the plague
wherewith the Lord will smite the heathen that come not
up to keep the feast of tabernacles. This shall be the
punishment of Egypt, and the punishment of all nations

that come not up to keep the feast of tabernacles." It is
evident by all the context, that the glorious day of the
church of God in the latter ages of the world, is the time
spoken of. The feast of tabernacles here seems to signify
that glorious spiritual feast which God shall then make
for his church, the same that is spoken of, Isa. xxv. 6. and
the great spiritual rejoicings of God's people at that time.
There were three great feasts in Israel at which all the
males were appointed to go up to Jerusalem ; the feast of
the passover ; and the feast of the first-fr-uits, or the feast
of Pentecost ; and the feast of ingathering, at the end of
the year, or the feast of tabernacles. In the first of these,
viz. the feast of the passover, was represented the purchase
of redemption by Jesus Christ ; for the paschal lamb was
slain at the time of that feast. The other two that fol
lowed it were to represent the two great seasons of the
application of the purchased redemption. In the former
of them, viz. the feast of the first-fruits, which was called
the feast of Pentecost, was represented that time of the
outpouring of the Spirit in the first ages of the christian
church, for the bringing in the first-fruits of Christ's re
demption, which began at Jerusalem on the day of Pente
cost. The other, which was the feast of ingathering, at
the end of the year — which the children of Israel were ap
pointed to keep on occasion of their gathering in their com
and toeir wine, and all the fruit of their land, and was
called the feast of tabernacles — represented the other more
joyful and glorious season of the application of Christ's
redemption, which is to be in the latter days. Then will
be the great day of ingathering of the elect, the proper and
appointed time of gathering in God's fruits, when the an
gel of the covenant shall thrust in his sickle, and gather
the harvest of the earth ; and the clusters of the vine of
the earth shall also be gathered. This was upon many
accounts the greatest feast of the three. There were much
greater tokens of rejoicings in this feast than any other.
The people then dwelt in booths of green boughs, and
were commanded to take boughs of goodly trees, branches
of palm-trees, and the boughs of thick trees, and willows
of the brook, and to rejoice before the Lord their God.
This represents toe flourishing, beautiful, pleasant state of
the church, rejoicing in God's grace and love, and tri
umphing over all her enemies. The tabernacle of God
was first set up among the children of Israel, at the time
of the feast of tabernacles ; but, in that glorious time of
the christian church, God will above all other times set up
his tabernacle amongst men, Rev. xxi. 3. " And I heard
a great voice out of heaven, saying, The tabernacle of God
is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall
be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and
be their God/'
The world is supposed to have been created about the
time of year wherein the feast of tabernacles was appoint
ed ; so, in that glorious time God will create a new heaven
and a new earth. The temple of Solomon was dedicated
at the time of the feast of tabernacles, when God descend
ed in a pillar of cloud, and dwelt in the temple ; so, at
this happy time, the temple of God shall be gloriously
built up in the world, and God shall in a wonderful man
ner come down from heaven to dwell with his church.
Christ is supposed to have been born at the feast of taber
nacles ; so, at the commencement of that glorious day,
Christ shall be born ; then, above all other times, shall
" the woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under
her feet, that is in travail, and pained to be delivered,
bring forth her son, to rule all nations," Rev. xii. The
feast of tabernacles was the last feast that Israel had in
the whole year, before the face of the earth was destroyed
by the winter; presently after the rejoicings of that feast
were past, a tempestuous season began, Acts xxvii. 9.
" Sailing was now dangerous, because the feast was now
already past." So this great feast of the christian church
will be the last feast she shall have on earth ; soon after it
is past, this lower world will be destroyed. At the feast
of tabernacles, Israel left their houses to dwell in booths
or green tents ; which signifies the great weanedness of
God's people from the world, as pilgrims and strangers
on the earth, and their great joy therein. Israel were pre
pared for the feast of tabernacles by the feast of trumpets,
and the day of atonement, both in the same month ; so,

384

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IL

way shall be made for the joy of the church of God, in its
glorious state on earth, by the extraordinary preaching of
the gospel, deep repentance and humiliation for past sins,
and for the great and long-continued deadness and car
nality of the visible church. Christ, at the great feast of
tabernacles, stood in Jerusalem, and " cried, saying, if
any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink : he
that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his
belly shall flow rivers of living waters :" signifying the
extraordinary freedom and riches of divine grace towards
sinners at that day, and the extraordinary measures of the
Holy Spirit that shall be then given ; agreeable to Rev.
xxi. 6. and xxii. 17.
It is threatened (Zech. xiv.) that those who at that time
shall not come to keep this feast, i. e. that shall not ac
knowledge God's glorious works, praise his name, and
rejoice with his people — but who should stand at a dis
tance, as unbelieving and disaffected — upon them shall be
no rain; they shall have no share in the shower of divine
blessing that shall then descend on the earth, the spiritual
rain spoken of, Isa. xliv. 3. but God would give them
over to hardness of heart and blindness of mind. The
curse is denounced against such, in a manner still more
awful, ver. 12. " And this shall be the plague wherewith
the Lord shall smite all the people that have fought
against Jerusalem : their flesh shall consume away while
they stand upon their feet, and their eyes shall consume
away in their holes, and their tongue shall consume away
in their mouth." Here also, in all probability, is intended
a spiritual judgment, or a plague and curse from God
upon the soul, rather than upon the body ; that such per
sons, who at that time shall oppose God's people in his
work, shall in an extraordinary manner be given over to a
state of spiritual death and ruin, that they shall remark
ably appear dead while alive, and shall be as walking rot
ten corpses while they go about amongst men. The great
danger of not joining with God's people at that glorious
day is also represented, Isa. Ix. 12. " For the nation and
kingdom toat will not serve thee shall perish ; yea, those
nations shall be utterly wasted."
Most of the great temporal deliverances wrought for
Israel of old, were typical of the great spiritual works of
God for the salvation of souls, and the deliverance and
prosperity of his church, in gospel days ; and especially
they represented that greatest of all deliverances of God s
church in the latter days ; which is above all others the
proper season of actual redemption of men's souls. But
it may be observed, that if any appeared to oppose God's
work in those great temporal deliverances; or if. there
were any of his professing people, who on such occasions
lay still, stood at a distance, or did not arise and acknow
ledge God in his work, and appear to promote it ; it was
what in a remarkable manner incensed God's anger, and
brought his curse upon such persons. — When God wrought
that great work of bringing the children of Israel out of
Egypt, (which was a type of God's delivering his church
out of the spiritual Egypt at the time of the fall of Anti
christ, as is evident by Rev. xi. 8. and xv. 3.) how highly
did he resent it, when the Amalekites appeared as op
posers in that affair ! and how dreadfully did he curse
them for it! Exod. xvii. 14, 15, 16. "And the Lord
said unto Moses, Write this for a memorial in a book, and
rehearse it in the ears of Joshua ; for I will utterly put out
the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven. And
Moses built an altar, and called the name of it Jehovah-
¦nissi. For he said, Because the Lord will have war with
Amalek from generation to generation." And accordingly
we find toat God remembered it a long time after, 1 Sam.
xv. 3. And how highly did God resent it in toe Moab-
ites and Ammonites, that they did not lend a helping hand,
and encourage and promote the affair ! Deut. xxiii. 3, 4.
" An Ammonite or Moabite shall not enter into toe con
gregation of the Lord ; even to their tenth generation,
shall they not enter into the congregation of the Lord for
ever : because they met you not with bread and with
water in the way, when ye came forth out of Egypt."
And how were the children of Reuben, and toe children of
Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh threatened, if they
did not go and help their brethren in their wars against
the Canaanites! Num. xxxii. 20—23. " And Moses

said unto them, if ye will do this thing, if ye will
go armed before toe Lord to war, and will go all of you
armed over Jordan before the Lord, until he hath driven
out his enemies from before him, and the land be subdued
before the Lord ; then afterward ye shall return, and be
guiltless before the Lord, and before Israel ; and this
land shall be your possession before the Lord. But if ye
will not do so, behold, ye have sinned against the Lord ;
and be sure your sin will find you out."
That was a glorious work which God wrought for Israel,'
when he delivered toem from the Canaanites, by the hand
of Deborah and Barak. Almost every thing about it
showed a remarkable hand of God. It was a prophetess,
one immediately inspired by God, that called the people
to the battle, and conducted them in the whole affair.
The people seem to have been miraculously animated and
encouraged in the matter, when they willingly offered
themselves, and gathered together to the battle; they
jeoparded their lives in the high places of the field, with
out being pressed or hired, when one would have thought
they should have but little courage for such an undertaking.
For what could a number of poor, weak, defenceless
slaves do, without a shield or spear to be seen among forty
thousand of them, to go against a great prince, with his
mighty host, and nine hundred chariots of iron ? And the
success wonderfully showed the hand of God ; which
makes Deborah exultingly to say, Judg. v. 31. " O my
soul, thou hast trodden down strength !" Christ with his
heavenly host was engaged in that battle ; and therefore it is
said, ver. 20. " They fought from heaven, the stars in their
courses fought against Sisera." The work of God there
fore, in this victory and deliverance which Christ and bis-
host wrought for Israel, was a type of what he will accom
plish forhis church in that great" last conflict of the church
with her open enemies, that shall introduce the church's
latter-day glory ; as appears by Rev. xvi. 16. (speaking of
that great battle,) " And he gathered them together into a
place, called in the Hebrew tongue, Armageddon," i. e. the
mountain of Megiddo ; alluding, as is supposed by ex
positors, to the place where the battle was fought with the
host of Sisera, Judg. v. 19. " The kings came and fought,
the kings of Canaan, in Taanach, by the waters of Me
giddo." Which can signify nothing else than that this
battle, which Christ and his church shall have with their
enemies, is the antitype of the battle that was fought there.
But what a dreadful curse from Christ did some of God's
professing people Israel bring upon themselves, by lying
still at that time, and not putting to a helping hand!
Judg. v. 23. " Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the
Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof: because
they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the
Lord against the mighty." The angel of the Lord was the
captain of the host ; he that had led Israel, and fought for
them in that battle, who is very often called the angel of
the Lord, in Scripture ; the same that appeared to Joshua
with a sword drawn in his hand, and told him that be was
come as the captain of the host ofthe Lord: and the same
glorious captain who is represented as leading forth his
hosts to that battle, of which this was the type, Rev. xix.
11, &c. It seems tbe inhabitants of Meroz were unbe
lieving concerning this great work ; they would not
hearken to Deborah's pretences, nor did it enter into them
that such a poor defenceless company should ever prevail-
against toose toat were so mighty. They did not acknow
ledge the hand of God, and therefore stood at a distance,
and did nothing to promote the work ; but what a bitter
curse from God did they bring upon themselves by it ! 
It is very probable that one great reason why the inha
bitants of Meroz were so unbelieving concerning this
work, was, that they argued a priori ; they did not like the
beginning of it, it being a woman that first led the way,
and had the chief conduct in the affair ; nor could they
believe that such despicable instruments, as a company of
unarmed slaves, were ever like to effect so great a thing ;
and pride and unbelief wrought together, in not being
willing to follow Deborah to the battle.
It was another glorious work of God that he wrought for
Israel, in the victory that was obtained by Gideon over the
Midianites and Amalekites, and the children of the east
when they came up against Israel like grasshoppers, a

Sect. III.

DANGER OF SLIGHTING THIS WORK.

multitude that could not be numbered. This also was a
remarkable type of the victory of Christ and his church
over his enemies, by the pouring out of the Spirit with the
preached gospel ; as is evident by the manner in which
Gideon was immediately directed of God, which was not
by human sword or bow, but by blowing of trumpets, and
by lights in earthen vessels. We read that, on this occa
sion, Gideon called the people together to help in this great
affair; and that accordingly great numbers resorted to him,
and came to the help ofthe Lord, Judg. vii. 23, 24. But
the inhabitants of Succoth and Penuel were unbelieving,
and would not acknowledge the hand of God in that work,
though it was so great and wonderful, nor would they join
to promote it. Gideon desired their help, when he was
pursuing after Zeba and Zalmunna ; but they despised his
pretences, and his confidence of the Lord beingon his side,
to deliver those two great princes into the hands of such a
despicable company as he and his three hundred men, and
would not own the work of God, nor afford Gideon any
assistance. God proceeded in this work in a way that was
exceeding cross to their pride. And they also refused to
own the work, because they argued a priori ; they could
not believe that God would do such great things by such
a despicable instrument, one of such a poor, mean family
in Manasseh, and he the least in his father's house ; and
the company that was wito him appeared very wretched,
being but three hundred men, and they weak and faint.
But we see how they suffered for their folly, in not ac
knowledging and appearing to promote this work of God :
Gideon, when he returned from the victory, took them, and
taught them with the briers and thorns of the wilderness,
and beat down the tower of Penuel, (he brought down
their pride and their false confidence,) and slew the men of
the city, Judg. viii. This in all probability Gideon did, as
moved and directed by the angel of the Lord, that is
Christ, who first called him, and sent him forth in this
battle, and instructed and directed him in the whole affair.
The return of the ark of God to dwell in Zion, in the
midst of the land of Israel, after it had been long absent —
first in the land of the Philistines, and then in Kirjat/i-
jearim, in the utmost borders of the land — strikingly repre
sented toe return of God to a professing people, in the
spiritual tokens of his presence, after long absence from
them. The ark ascending up into a mountain, typified
Christ's ascension ' into heaven. It is evident by the
psalms that were penned on that occasion, especially the
68th Psalm, toat tne exceeding rejoicings of Israel on that
occasion represented the joy of the church of Christ on his
returning to it, after it has been in a low and dark state, to
revive his work, bringing his people back, as it -were, from
Bashan, and from the depth of the sea ; scattering their
spiritual enemies, and causing that though they had lien
among the pots, yet they should be as the wings of a dove,
covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold ; and
giving the blessed tokens of his presence in his house, that
his people may see the goings of God their King in the
sanctuary. The gifts of which David, wito such royal
bounty, distributed amongst the people on toat occasion,
(2 Sam. vi. 18, 19. and 1 Chron. xvi. 2, 3.) represent
spiritual blessings that Christ liberally sends down on his
church, by the outpourings of the Spirit. See Ps. lxviii.
1, 3, 13, 18 — 24. And we have an account how that all
the people, from Shihor of Egypt, even unto the entering
in of Hemalh, gathered together, and appeared to join and
assist in that great affair ; and that all Israel " brought up
the ark of the covenant of the Lord, with shouting, and
with sound of the cornet, and with trumpets, and with
cymbals, making a noise with psalteries and harps,"
1 Chron. xiii. 2, 5. and xv. 28. And not only the men,
but the women of Israel, toe daughters of Zion appeared,
as publicly joining in the praises and rejoicings on that
occasion, 2 Sam. vi. 19. But we read of one of David's
wives, even Michal, Saul's daughter, whose heart was not
engaged in the affair, and did not appear with others to
rejoice and praise God on this occasion, but kept away,
and stood at a distance, as disaffected, and disliking the
management. She despised and ridiculed the transports
and extraordinary manifestations of joy ; and the curse
that she brought upon herself by it was that of being
barren to the day of her death. Let this be a warning to
vol. I. 2 c

385
us : let us take heed, in this day of the bringing up of toe
ark of God, that, while we are in visibility and profession
the spouse of the spiritual David, we do not show our
selves to be indeed the children of falsehearted and rebel
lious Saul, by our standing aloof, and our not joining in
the joy and praises of the day, disliking and despising the
joys and affections of God's people because they are so
high in degree, and so bring the curse of perpetual barren
ness upon our souls.
Let us take heed that we be not like the son of the
bond-woman, born after the flesh, that persecuted him toat
was born after the Spirit, and mocked at the feasting and
rejoicings that were made for Isaac when he was weaned ;
let we should be cast out of the family of Abraham, as he
was, Gen. xxi. 8, 9. That affair contained spiritual
mysteries, and was typical of things toat come to pass in
these days of toe gospel ; as is evident by the apostle's
testimony, Gal. iv. 22, &c. And particularly it seems to
have been typical of two things ;
First, The weaning of the church from its milk of
carnal ordinances, ceremonies, shadows, and beggarly ele
ments upon the coming of Christ, and pouring out of the
Spirit in the days of the apostles. The church of Christ,
in the times of the Old Testament, was in its minority,
even as a babe ; and the apostle tells us that babes must
be fed with milk, and not with strong meat : but when
God weaned his church from these carnal ordinances, on
the ceasing of the legal dispensation, a glorious gospel-
feast was provided for souls, and God fed nis people with
spiritual dainties, filled them with the Spirit, and gave them
joy in the Holy Ghost. Ishmael in mocking at the time
of Isaac's feast, by the apostle's testimony, represented the
camal Jews, the children of the literal Jerusalem, who,
when they beheld the rejoicings of Christians in their
spiritual and evangelical privileges, were filled with envy,
deriding, contradicting, and blaspheming, (Actsii. 13. and
chap. xiii. 45. and xviii. 6.) and therefore were cast out of
the family of Abraham, and out of the land of Canaan,
to wander through the earth.
Secondly, This weaning of Isaac seems also to-represent
the conversion of sinners, which is several times repre
sented in Scripture by the weaning of a child ; as in Ps.
exxxi. and Isa. xxviii. 9. because in conversion the soul is
weaned from the enjoyments of the world, which are as it
were the breast of our mother earth ; and is also weaned
from the covenant of our first parents, which we as naturally
hang upon, as a child on its mother's breast. And the
great feast that Abraham made on that occasion represents
the spiritual feast, the heavenly privileges, and holy joys
and comforts, which God gives to souls at their conversion.
Now is a time when God in a remarkable manner is
bestowing toe blessings of such a feast : let every one take
heed that he do not now show himself to be the son of the
bond-woman, and bom after the flesh, by standing and
deriding, with mocking Ishmael ; lest they be cast out as
he was, and it be said concerning them, " These sons of
the bond-woman shall not be heirs with the sons of the
free-woman." Do not let us stumble at these things, be
cause they are so great and extraordinary ; for if we " have
run with the footmen, and they have wearied us, how shall
we contend with horses 1" There is doubtless a time com
ing when God will accomplish things vastly greater and
more extraordinary than these.
And that we may be warned not to continue doubting
and unbelieving concerning this work, because of the ex
traordinary degree of it, and the suddenness and swiftness
of the accomplishment of the great things that pertain to
it ; let us consider the example of toe unbelieving lord in
Samaria, who could not believe so extraordinary a work of
God to be accomplished so suddenly as was declared to
him. The prophet Elisha foretold that the great famine
in Samaria should very suddenly, even in one day, be
turned into an extraordinary plenty ; but the work was too
great and too sudden for him to believe ; says he, " If the
Lord should make windows in heaven, might this thing
be ?" And the curse that he brought upon himself by it
was, that he saw it with his eyes, and did not eat thereof,
but miserably perished, and was trodden down as the mire
of the streets, when others were feasting and rejoicing,
2 Kings vii.

-8C

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part II.

When God redeemed his people from their Babylonish
captivity, and they rebuilt Jerusalem, it was, as is universally
owned, a remarkable type of the spiritual redemption of
God's church ; and particularly of the great deliverance
of the christian church from spiritual Babylon, and their
rebuilding the spiritual Jerusalem, in the latter days ; and
therefore they are often spoken of as one by the prophets.
And this probably was the main reason that it was so order
ed in Providence, and particularly noted in Scripture, that
the children of Israel, on that occasion, kept toe greatest
feast of tabernacles that ever had been kept m Israel since
the days of Joshua, when the people were first settled in
Canaan. (Neh. viii. 16, 17.) For at that time happened
that restoration of Israel, which had the greatest resem
blance of toat great restoration of the church of God, of
which the feast of tabernacles was toe type, of any that
had been since Joshua first brought the people out of the
wilderness, and settled them in the good land. But we
read of some that opposed the Jews in that affair, weaken
ed their hands, ridiculed God's people, the instruments
employed in that work, despised toeir hopes, and made as
though their confidence was little more than a shadow, and
would utterly fail them : " What do these feeble Jews ?
(say they,) will toey fortify themselves? will they sacrifice?
will they make an end in a day ? will they revive the stones
out of the heaps of the rubbish which are burnt ? Even
that which toey build, if a fox go up, he shall even break
down their stone wall." Let not us be in any measure
like them, lest it be said to us, as Nehemiah said to them,
Neh. ii. 20. " We his servants will arise and build ; but
you have no portion, nor right, nor memorial in Jerusalem."
And lest we bring Nehemiah's imprecations upon us, chap.
iv. 5. " Cover not their iniquity, and let not their sin be
blotted out from before thee ; for they have provoked thee
to anger before the builders."
As persons will greatly expose themselves to the curse
of God, by opposing, or standing at a distance, and keep
ing silence at such a time as this ; so for persons to arise,
and readily to acknowledge God, and honour him in such
a work, arid cheerfully and vigorously to exert themselves
to promote it, will be to put themselves much in the way
of the divine blessing. What a mark of honour does God
put upon those in Israel, that willingly offered themselves,
and came to the help of the Lord against the mighty, when
the angel of the Lord led forth his armies, and they fought
from heaven against Sisera! Judg. v. 2, 9, 14 — 18. And
what a great blessing is pronounced on Joel, the wife of
Heber the Kenite, for her appearing on the Lord's side,
and for what she did to promote that work ! " Blessed
above women shall Jael the wife of Heber the Kenite he,
blessed shall she be above women in the tent." And what
a blessing is pronounced on those which shall have any
hand in the destruction of Babylon, which was the head city
of the kingdom of Satan, and of the enemies of the church
of God ! Psal. cxxxvii. 9. " Happy shall he be thattaketh
and dasheth thy little ones against the stones." What a
particular and honourable notice is taken, in the records of
God's work, of those that arose and appeared as David's
helpers, to introduce him into the kingdom of Israel ! 1
Chron. xii. The host of those who thus came to the help
ofthe Lord, in that glorious revolution in Israel, by which
the kingdom of that great type of the Messiah was set up
in Israel, is compared to the host of God, (ver. 22.) " At
that time, day by day, there came to David to help him,
until it was a great host, like the host of God." And
doubtless it was intended to be a type of the host that
shall appear with the spiritual David, as his helpers, when
he shall come to set up his kingdom in the world ; the
same host that we read of, Rev. xiv. 14. The Spirit of God
then pronounced a special blessing on David's helpers, as
co-workers with God, ver. 18. " Then the Spirit came upon
Amasai, who was chief of toe captains, and he said, Thine
are we, David, and on thy side, thou son of Jesse : Peace,
peace be unto thee, and peace be to thine helpers ; for thy
God helpeth thee." So we may conclude, that God will
much more give his blessing to such as come to the help of
the Lord, when he sets his own dear Son as King on his
holy hill of Zion. They shall be received hy "Christ, and he
will put peculiar honour upon them, as David did on those
his helpers ; as we have an account in the following words,

ver. 18. "Then Dav id received them, and made them cap
tains of the band." It is particularly noted of those that
came to David to Hebron, ready armed to the war, to turn
the kingdom of Saul to him, according to the word of the
Lord, that " they were men that had understanding of the
times', to know what Israel ought to do," ver. 23, and 32.
Wherein they differed from the Pharisees and other Jews,
who did not come to the help of the Lord, at the time that
the great Son of David appeared to set up his kingdom m
the world. These Christ condemns, because they had not
" understanding of those times," Luke xii. 56. " Ye hypo
crites, ye can discern the face of the sky, and of the earth ;
but how is it that ye do not discern these times;" so it
will always be, when Christ remarkably appears on earth,
on a design of setting up his kingdom here ; many will not
understand the times, nor what Israel ought to do, and so
will not come to turn about the kingdom to David.
The favourable notice that God will take of such as ap
pear to promote the work of God, at such a time as this,
may also be argued from such a very particular notice
being taken in the sacred records, of those that helped in
rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem, upon the return from toe
Babylonish captivity, Nehem. chap. iii.

SECT. IV.
The obligations of rulers, ministers, and all sorts to promote
this work.
At such a time as this, when God is setting his King on
his holy hill of Zion, or establishing his dominion, or
showing forth his regal glory from thence, he expects that
his visible people, without exception, should openly appear
to acknowledge him in such a work, and bow before him,
and join with him. But especially does he expect this of
civil rulers : God's eye is especially upon them, to see how
they behave themselves on such occasions. When a new
king comes to the throne, if he comes from abroad, and
enters into his kingdom, and makes his solemn entry into
the royal city, it is expected that all sorts should acknow
ledge him ; but above all others is it expected that the
great men, and public officers of the nation, should then
make their appearance, and attend on their sovereign, with
suitable congratulations, and manifestations of respect and
loyalty. If such as these stand at a distance at such a time,
it will be much more noticed ; and will awaken the prince's
jealousy and displeasure much more, than such a beha
viour in the common people. And thus it is, when that
eternal Son of God, and heir of the world — by whom kings
reign, and princes decree justice, and whom his Father has
appointed to be King of kings— comes as it were from far,
and in the spiritual tokens of his presence enters into the
royal city Zion. God has his eye at such a time, espe
cially, upon those princes, nobles, and judges ofthe earth,
spoken of, Prov. viii. 16. to see how they behave them
selves, whether they bow to him, who is made the head of
all principality and power. This is evident by Psal. ii. 6,
7, 10 — 12. " Yet have I set my King upon my holy hill of
Zion. I will declare the decree : the Lord hath said unto
me, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee. — Be
wise now therefore, O ye kings : be instructed, ye judges
of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with
trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry and ye perish
from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little."
There seems to be in the words an allusion to a new king
coming to the throne, and making his solemn entry into
the royal city, when it is expected that all, especially men
in public office and authority, should manifest their loyal
ty, by some open and visible tokens of respect, by the way,
as he passes along ; and those that refuse or neglect it, are
in danger of being immediately struck down, and perish
ing from the way, by which the king goes in solemn pro
cession. The day wherein God, in an eminent manner, sends
forth the rod of Christ's strength out of Zion, that he may
rule in the midst of his enemies, the day of his power
wherein his people shall be made willing, is also eminent
ly a day of his wrath, especially to such rulers as oppose
him, or will not bow to him. It will prove a day whereiii

Sect. IV.

OBLIGATIONS OF RULERS, MINISTERS, &c.

387

he " shall strike through kings, and fill the places with the
dead bodies, and wound the heads over many countries,"
Psal. ex. And thus it is, that when the Son of God
" girds his sword upon his thigh, with his glory and his
majesty, and in his majesty rides prosperously, because of
truth, meekness, and righteousness, his right hand teaches
him terrible things." They were the princes of Succoth
especially who suffered punishment, when the inhabitants
of that city refused to come to the help of the Lord. When
Gideon was pursuing after Zebuh and Zalmunna, we read
that Gideon took the elders of the city, and thorns of the
wilderness, and briers, and with them he taught the men
of Succoth. It is especially noticed, that the rulers and
chief men of Israel, were called upon to assist in the affair
of bringing up the ark of God ; they were chiefly consulted,
and were principal in the management ofthe affair, 1 Chron.
xiii. 1. " And David consulted with the captains of thou
sands and hundreds, and with every leader." And chap,
xv. 25. " So David and the elders of Israel, and the cap
tains over thousands, went to bringuptheark of thecovenant
of the Lord, out of the house of Obed-Edom, with joy." So
2 Sam. vi. 1 . And so it was when the ark was brought into
the temple, (1 Kings viii. 1, 3. and 2 Chron. v. 2, 4.)
And as rulers, by neglecting their duty at such a time,
will especially expose themselves to God's great displea
sure ; so by fully acknowledging God ia such a work, and
by cheerfully and vigorously exerting themselves to pro
mote it, they will especially be in the way of receiving
peculiar honours and rewards at God's hands. It is noted
of the princes of Israel, that they especially appeared to
honour God with their princely offering, on occasion of
setting up the tabernacle of God in the congregation of
Israel. I have observed already that this was done at the
time of the feast of tabernacles, and was a type of the taber
nacle of God being with men, and his dwelling with men
in the latter days. And with what abundant particularity
is it noted of each prince, how much he offered to God on
that occasion, for their everlasting honour, in the 7th chap
ter of Numbers! And so, with how much favour and
honour does the Spirit of God take notice of those princes
in Israel, who came to the help of the Lord, in the war
against Sisera! Judg. v. 9. "My heart is towards the
governors of Israel, that offered themselves willingly among
the people." And, (ver. 14.) " Out of Machir came down
governors." (ver. 15.) " And the princes of Issachar were
with Deborah" And in the account we have of rebuild
ing the wall of Jerusalem, Neh. iii. it is particularly noted
what a hand one and another of the rulers had in this affair;
such a part of the wall was repaired by the ruler of the
half-part of Jerusalem, and such a part by the ruler of the
other half-part of Jerusalem, and such a part by the ruler
of part of Beth-huccerem, and such a part by the ruler of
part of Mizpah, and such a part by the ruler of the half-
part of Bethzur; and such a part by the ruler of Mizpah,
ver. 9 — 1 9. And there it is particularly noted of the rulers
of one of the cities, that they put not their necks to the work
of the Lord, though the common people did ; and they
are stigmatized for it in the sacred records, to their ever
lasting reproach, (v. 5.) " And next unto them the Tekoites
repaired ; but their nobles put not their necks to the work
of the Lord." So the Spirit of God, with special hon
our, takes notice of princes and rulers of several tribes,
who assisted in bringing up the ark, Psal. lxviii. 27.
And I humbly desire it may be considered, whether we
have not reason to fear, that God is provoked with this
land, because no more notice has been taken of the late
glorious work by the civil authority ; that no more has been
done by them as a public acknowledgment of God in this
work, and no more improvement of their authority to pro
mote it. This might have been done, either by appointing
a day of public thanksgiving to God for so unspeakable a
mercy, or a day of fasting and prayer, to humble ourselves
before God for our past deadness and unprofitableness
under the means of grace, and to seek the continuance and
increase of the tokens of his presence. Can it be pleasing
to God, that the civil authority have not so much as enter
ed upon any public consultation, what should be done to
advance the present revival of religion, and great reform
ation that is begun in the land ? Is there not danger that
such a behaviour, at such a time, will be interpreted by
2 c 2

God, as a denial of Christ ? If but a new governor comes
into a province, how much is there done, especially by
those who are in authority, to put honour upon him !
They arise, appear publicly, and go forth to meet, to ad
dress, and congratulate him, and with great expense to at
tend and aid him I If the authority of the province, on
such an occasion, should all sit still,and say and do nothing,
and take no notice of the arrival of their new governor,
would there not be danger of its being interpreted by him,
and his prince that sent him, as a denial of his authority,
or a refusing to receive and honour him as their governor?
And shall the head of the angels, and Lord of the universe,
come down from heaven, in so wonderful a manner, into
a land ; and shall all stand at a distance, and be silent and
inactive on such an occasion? I would humbly recom
mend it to our rulers to consider whether God does not now
say to them, " Be wise now, ye rulers ; be instructed, ye
judges of New England : kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and
ye perish from the way."
It is prophesied, Zech. xii. 8. that, in the glorious day of
the christian church, the house of David, or the rulers in
God's " Israel, shall be as God, as the angel of the Lord,
before his people." But how can such rulers expect to
have any share in this glorious promise, who do not so
much as openly acknowledge God in the work of that
Spirit, by whom the glory of that day is to be accomplish
ed ? The days are coming, when the saints shall reign on
earth, and all dominion and authority shall be given into
their hands : but, if our rulers would partake of this
honour, they ought, at such a day as this, to bring their
glory and honour into the spiritual Jerusalem, agreeable to
Rev. xxi. 24.
But, above all others, is God's eye upon the ministers of
the gospel, as expecting of them, that they should arise,
acknowledge, and honour him in such a work as this, and
do their utmost to encourage and promote it. For this is
the very business to which they are called and devoted ; it
is the office to which they are appointed, as co-workers
with Christ. They are his ambassadors and instruments,
to awaken and convert sinners, and establish, build up, and
comfort saints ; it is the business they have been solemnly
charged with, before God, angels, and men, and to which
they have given up themselves by the most sacred vows.
These especially are the officers of Christ's kingdom, who,
above all other men upon earth, represent his person ; into
whose hands Christ has committed the sacred oracles, holy
ordinances, and all his appointed means of grace, to be ad
ministered by them. They are the stewards of his house
hold, into whose hands he has committed its provision ;
the immortal souls of men are committed to them, as a
flock of sheep are committed to the care of a shepherd, or
as a master commits a treasure to the care of a servant, of
which he must give an account. It is expected of them,
above all others, that they should have understanding ofthe
times, and know what Israel ought to do ; for it is their
business to acquaint themselves with things pertaining to
the kingdom of God, and to teach and enlighten others in
the same. We who are employed in the sacred work of the
gospel ministry, are the watchmen over the city, to whom
God has committed the keys of the gates of Zion; and ifv
when the rightful King of Zion comes to deliver his people
from the enemy that oppresses them, we refuse to open the
gates to him, how greatly shall we expose ourselves to his
wrath ! We are appointed to be the captains of the host
in this war ; and if a general will highly resent it in a
private soldier, if he refuses to follow him when his ban
ner is displayed, and his trumpet blown ; how much more
will he resent it in the officers of his army ! The work of
the gospel-ministry, consisting in the administration of
God's word and ordinances, is the principal means that
God has appointed for carrying on his work on the souls of
men ; and it is his revealed will, that whenever that glorious
revival of religion, and reformation of the world, so often
spoken of in his word, is accomplished, it should be prin
cipally by the labours of his ministers. Therefore, how
heinous will it be in the sight of God, if, when a work of
that nature is begun, we appear unbelieving, slow, back
ward, and disaffected ! There was no sort of persons
among the Jews treated wito such manifestations of God's
great displeasure, and severe indignation, for not acknow-

388

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part II.

ledging Christ, and the work of his Spirit, in the days of
Christ and his apostles, as the ministers of religion. See
how Christ deals with them for it, Matt, xxiii. With what
gentleness did Christ treat publicans and harlots, in com
parison of them !
When the tabernacle was erected in the camp of Israel,
and God came down from heaven to dwell in it, the priests
were above all others concerned, and busily employed in
the solemn transactions of that occasion, Lev. viii. and ix.
And so it was at the time of the dedication of the temple
by Solomon, (1 Kings viii. and 2 Chron. v. vi. and vii.)
which was at the time of the feast of tabernacles, the same
as when the tabernacle was erected in the wilderness.
And the Levites were primarily and most immediately
concerned in bringing up the ark into mount Zion; the
business properly belonged to them, and the ark was car
ried upon their shoulders, 1 Chron. xv. 2. " Then David
said, None ought to carry the ark of God but the Levites ;
for them hath the Lord chosen to carry the ark of God, and
to minister unto him for ever." And (ver. 11, 12.) " And
David called for Zadock and Abiathar the priests, and for
the Levites, for Uriel, Asaiah, and Joel, Shemaiah, and
Eliel, and Amminadab, and said unto them, Ye are the chief
of the fathers of the Levites ; sanctify yourselves, both ye
and your brethren, that you may bring up the ark of the
Lord God of Israel, unto the place that I have prepared for
it." So we have an account that the priests led the way
in rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem, after the Babylonish
captivity, Neh. iii.
Though ministers preach never so good doctrine, and be
never so painful and laborious in their work, yet if they
show to their people that they are not well-affected to this
work, but are doubtful and suspicious of it, thev will be
very hkely to do their people a great deal more hurt than
good. For the very fame of such a great and extraordinary
work of God, if their people were suffered to believe it to
be his work, and the example of other towns, together with
what preaching they might hear occasionally, would be
likely to have a much greater influence upon the minds of
their people to awaken and animate them in religion, than
all other labours with them. Besides, their ministers'
opinion will not only beget in them a suspicion of the
work toey hear of abroad, whereby the mighty hand of
God that appears in it loses its influence upon their minds ;
but it will also tend to create a suspicion of every thing of
the like nature, that shall appear among themselves, as
being something of the same distemper that is become so
epidemical in the land. And what is this, in effect, but to
create a suspicion of all vital religion, and to put the
people upon talking against and discouraging it, wherever
it appears, and knocking it on the head as fast as it rises.
We, who are ministers, by looking on this work from year
to year wito a displeased countenance, shall effectually
keep the sheep from their pasture, instead of doing the
part of shepherds by feeding toem ; and our people had a
great deal better be without any settled minister at all, at
such a day as this.
We who are in this sacred office had need to take heed
what we do, and how we behave ourselves at this time : a
less thing in a minister will hinder the work of God, than
in others. If we are very silent, or say but little about the
work, in our public prayers and preaching, or seem care
fully to avoid speaking of it in our conversation, it will be
interpreted by our people, toat we, who are their guides, to
whom toey are to have their eye for spiritual instruction,
are suspicious of it ; and this will tend to raise the same
suspicions in them; and so the forementioned conse-
Suences will follow. And if we really hinder and stand in
le way of the work of God, whose business above , all
others it is to promote it, how can we expect to partake of
the glorious benefits of it? And, by keeping others from
the benefit, we shall keep them out of heaven ; therefore
those awful words of Christ to toe Jewish teachers, should
be considered by us, Matt, xxiii. 13. " Woe unto you, for
you shut up the kingdom of heaven ;  for ye neither go
in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering, to
go in." If we keep the sheep from their pasture, how
shall we answer it to toe great Shepherd, who has bought
the flock with his precious blood, and has committed the
care of them to us ? I would humbly desire of every

minister toat has thus long remained disaffected to this
work, and has had contemptible thoughts of it, to consider
whether he has not hitherto been hkeMichal, without any
child, or at least in a great measure barren and unsuccess
ful in his work : I pray God it may not be a perpetual
barrenness, as hers was.
The times of Christ's remarkably appearing in behalf of
his church, to revive religion, and advance his kingdom in
the world, are often spoken of in toe prophecies of Scrip
ture, as times wherein he will remarkably execute judg
ments on such ministers or shepherds as do not feed the
flock, but hinder their being fed, and so will deliver his
flock from them, (Jer. xxiii. throughout, and Ezek. xxxiv.
throughout, and Zech. x. 3. and Isa. lvi. 7, 8, 9, &c.) I
observed before, that Christ's solemn, magnificent entry
into Jerusalem, seems to be designed as a representation of
his glorious coming into his church, toe spiritual Jerusa
lem ; and therefore it is worthy to be noted, to our present
purpose, that Christ at that time cast out all toem who sold
and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the
money-changers, and toe seats of them that sold doves ;
signifying that, when he should come to set up his king
dom on earth, he would cast out those out of his house,
who, instead of being faithful ministers, officiated there
only for worldly gain. Not that I determine, that all
ministers who are suspicious of this work, do so ; but I
mention these things to show why it is to be expected, toat
a time of a glorious outpouring of the Spirit of God to
revive religion, will be a time of remarkable judgments
on toose ministers who do not serve toe end of their
ministry. The example of the unbelieving lord in Samaria should
especially be for the warning of ministers and rulers. At
the time when God turned an extreme famine into great
plenty, by a wonderful work of his, the king appointed
this lord to have the charge of the gate of toe city ; where
he saw toe common people, in multitudes, entering wito
great joy and gladness, loaden with provision, to feed and
feast their almost famished bodies ; but he himself, though
he saw it with his eyes, never had one taste of it, but, being
weak with famine, sunk down in the crowd, and was
trodden to death, as a punishment of God for his not
giving credit to that great and wonderful work of God,
when sufficiently manifested to him to require his belief.
— Ministers are toose whom toe King of the church has
appointed to have the charge of toe gate at which his
people enter into the kingdom of heaven, there to be en
tertained and satisfied wito an eternal feast, i. e. ministers
have the charge of the house of God, which is toe gate of
heaven. They should especially take heed of a spirit of envy
towards other ministers, whom God is pleased to use for
carrying on this work more than they ; and that they do
not from such a spirit, reproach some preachers who have
the true spirit, as though toey were influenced by a false
spirit — or were bereft of reason, were mad, and proud,
false pretenders, and deserved to be put in prison or the
stocks, as disturbers of the peace — lest they expose them
selves to the curse of Shemaiah the Nehelaniite, who envied
the prophet Jeremiah, and in this manner reviled him, in
his letter to Zephaniah the priest, Jer. xxix. 26, 27. " The
Lord hath made thee priest in toe stead of Jeho'iada toe
priest, that ye should be officers in toe house of the Lord,
for every man that is mad, and maketh himself a prophet,
that thou shouldest put him in prison, and in the stocks.
Now therefore, why hast thou not reproved Jeremiah of
Anathoth, which maketh himself a prophet to you ?" His
curse is denounced in the 32d ver. " Therefore thus saith
the Lord, Behold, I will punish Shemaiah the Nehemalite,
and his seed : he shall not have a man to dwell among his
people, neither shall he behold the good that I will do for
my people, saith the Lord, because he hath taught rebellion
against toe Lord." All superiors or elders should take
heed, toat at this day they be not like toe elder brother,
who could not bear that the prodigal should be sump
tuously entertained, and would not join in the joy of the
feast. He was like Michal, Saul's daughter, offended at
the music and dancing that he heard ; the transports of
joy displeased him ; it seemed to him to be an unseemly
and unseasonable noise; and therefore stood at a dis-

Sect. IV.

OBLIGATIONS OF RULERS, MINISTERS, &c.

389

tance, sullen, and much offended, and full of invectives
against the young prodigal.
It is our wisest and best way, fully, and without re
luctance, to bow to the great God in this work, and to be
entirely resigned to him, with respect to the manner in
which he carries it on, and the instruments he is pleased to
use. Let us not show ourselves out of humour, and sul
lenly refuse to acknowledge the work in its full glory, be
cause we have not had so great a hand in promoting it, or
have not shared so largely in its blessings, as some others.
Let us not refuse to give all toat honour which belongs to
others as instruments, because they are young, or are
upon other accounts much inferior to ourselves and others ;
and may appear to us very unworthy that God should put
so much honour upon them. When God comes to accom
plish any great work for his church, and for toe advance
ment of the kingdom of his Son, he always fulfils that
scripture, Isa. ii. 17. " And the loftiness of man shall be
bowed down, and the haughtiness of man shall be made
low, and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day." If
God has a design of carrying on this work, every one,
whether he be great or small, must either bow to it, or be
broken before it. It may be expected that God's hand
will be upon every thing that is high, and stiff, and strong
in opposition; as in Isa. ii. 12 — 15. "For the day
ofthe Lord of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud
and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up, and he
shall be brought low ; and upon all the cedars of Lebanon,
that are high and lifted up, and upon all the oaks of
Bashan, and upon all the high mountains, and upon all
the hills that are lifted up, and upon every high tower, and
upon every fenced wall.
Not only magistrates and ministers, but every living soul,
is now obliged to arise and acknowledge God in this
work, and put to his hand to promote it, as they would
not expose themselves to God's curse. All sorts of persons
throughout the whole congregation of Israel, great and
small, rich and poor, men and women, helped to build the
tabernacle in the wilderness ; some in one way, others in
another ; each one according to his capacity : every one
whose heart stirred him up, and every one whom his
spirit made willing; all sorts contributed and all sorts
were employed in that affair, in labours of their hands,
both men and women. Some brought gold and silver,
others blue, purple, and scarlet, and fine linen ; others
offered an offering of brass ; others, wito whom was found
shittim-wood, brought it an offering to toe Lord : the
rulers brought onyx-stones, and spice, and oil ; and some
brought goats' hair, some rams' skins, and others badgers'
skins. (See Exod. xxxv. 20, &c.) And we are told, ver.
29. " The children of Israel brought a willing offering
unto the Lord, every man and woman, whose heart made
them willing." And thus it ought to be in this day of
building the tabernacle of God ; with such a willing and
cheerful heart ought every man, woman, and child, to do
something to promote this work : those who have not
onyx-stones, or are not able to bring gold or silver, yet
may bring goats' hair.
As all sorts of persons were employed in building the
tabernacle in the wilderness, so the whole congregation of
Israel were called together to set up the tabernacle in
Shiloh, after they came into Canaan, Josh, xviii. 1. and
the whole congregation of Israel were gathered together,
to bring up the ark of God from Kirjuth-jearim. Again,
they were all assembled to bring it up out of the house of
Obed-Edom into mount Zion ; so again, all Israel met
together to assist in the great affair of the dedication of the
temple, and bring toe ark into it. So we have an account,
how that all sorts assisted in the rebuilding the wall of
Jerusalem, not only the proper inhabitants of Jerusalem,
but those that dwelt in other parts of the land ; not only
the priests and rulers, but the Nethinims and merchants,
husbandmen and mechanics, and even women, Neh. iii.
5, 12, 26, 31, 32. And we have an account of one and
another, that he repaired over against his house, ver. 10,
23, 28. and one that repaired over against his chamber,
ver. 30. So now, at this time of toe rebuilding the wall
of Jerusalem, every one ought to promote the work of God
within his o vn sphere, and by doing what belongs to him,
in the place in which God has set him. Men in a private

capacity may repair over against their houses ; and even
those that have not the government of families, and have
but a part of a house belonging to them, should repair
each one over against his chamber. Every one should be
engaged to do the utmost that lies in his power, labouring
with watchfulness, care, and diligence, with united hearts,
and united strength, and the greatest readiness to assist
one another in this work ; as God's people rebuilt the
wall of Jerusalem, who were so diligent in the work, that
they wrought from break of day till toe stars appeared,
and did not so much as put off their clothes in the night.
They wrought with great care and watchfulness ; with one
hand they laboured in the work, and with the other they
held a weapon, besides the guard toey set to defend them.
They were so well united in it, that toey appointed one to
stand ready with a trumpet in his hand, that, if any were
assaulted in one part, those in toe other parts, at the sound
of the trumpet, might resort to them, and helr> them.
Neh. iv. F
Great care should be taken that toe press should be
improved to no purpose contrary to the interest of this
work. We read, that when God fought against Sisera, for
the deliverance of his oppressed church, they that liandle
the pen of the writer came to the help of the Lord in that
affair, Judges v. 14. Whatever sort of men in Israel were
intended, yet, as the words were indicted by a spirit that
had a perfect view of all events to the end of the world,
and had a special eye in this song, to that great event of
the deliverance of God's church in the latter days, of
which this deliverance of Israel was a type, it is not
unlikely toat they have respect to authors, who should
fight against the kingdom of Satan with toeir pens. Those
therefore that publish pamphlets to the disadvantage of
this work, and tend either directly or indirectly to bring it
under suspicion, and to discourage or hinder it, would do
well thoroughly to consider whether this be not indeed the
work of God ; and whether, if it be, it is not likely that
God will go fonh as fire, to consume all that stand in his
way ; and whether there be not danger that the fire
kindled in toem will scorch the authors.
When a people oppose Christ in the work of his Holy
Spirit, it is because it touches them in something that is dear
to their camal minds, and because they see the tendency of
it is to cross their pride, and deprive them of the objects of
their lusts. Wre should take heed that at this day we be
not like the Gadarenes, who — when Christ came into their
country in the exercise of his glorious power and grace,
triumphing over a legion of devils, and delivering a miser
able creature that had long been their captive — were all
alarmed, because they lost their swine by it ; and a whole
multitude of the country came, and besought him to
depart out of their coasts. They loved their filthy swine
better than Jesus Christ ; and had rather have a legion of
devils in their country with their herd of swine, than Jesus
Christ without them.
This work may be opposed in other ways, besides by
directly speaking against the whole of it. Persons may
say that they believe there is a good work carried on in the
country ; and may sometimes bless God, in their public
prayers, in general terms, for any awakenings or revivals
of religion there have lately been in any part of the land ;
and may pray that God would carry on his own work,
and pour out his Spirit more and more ; and yet, as I
apprehend, be in the sight of God great opposers of his
work. Some will express themselves after this manner,
who are so far from acknowledging and rejoicing in the
infinite mercy and glorious grace of God in causing so
happy a change, that they look on the religious state of the
country, take it on the whole, much more sorrowful than
it was ten years ago ; and whose conversation, to those
who are well acquainted with them, evidently shows, toat
they are more out of humour with the state of things, and
enjoy themselves less, than they did before ever this work
began. If it be manifestly thus with us, and our talk and
behaviour with respect to this work be such as has though
but an indirect tendency to beget ill thoughts and suspi
cions in others concerning it, we are opposers of the work
of God.
Instead of coming to toe help of the Lord, we shall
actually fight against him, if we are abundant in insisting

390

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part II.

on and setting forth toe blemishes of toe work ; so as to
manifest toat we rather choose and are more forward to
take notice of what is amiss, than what is good and glori
ous in toe work. Not but that the errors committed ought
to be observed and lamented, and a proper testimony
borne against them, and the most probable means should
be used to have them amended ; but insisting much upon
them, as though it were a pleasing theme, or speaking of
them wito more appearance of heat of spirit, or with
ridicule, or an air of contempt, than grief for them, has no
tendency to correct the errors ; but has a tendency to
darken the glory of God's power and grace appearing in the
substance of toe work, and to beget jealousies and ill
thoughts in the minds of others concerning the whole of it.
Whatever errors many zealous persons have ran into, yet
if the work, in the substance of it, be toe work of God,
then it is a joyful day indeed ; it is so in heaven, and
ought to be so among God's people on earth, especially in
toat part of the earth where this glorious work is carried
on. It is a day of great rejoicing with Christ himself, the
good Shepherd, when he finds his sheep that was lost, lays
it on his shoulders rejoicing, and calls together his friends
and neighbours, saying, Rejoice with me. If we therefore
are Christ's friends, now it should be a day of great
rejoicing with us. If we viewed things in a just light, so
great an event as the conversion of such a multitude of
sinners, would draw and engage our attention much more
than all the imprudences and irregularities that have
been ; our hearts would be swallowed up with toe glory
of this event, and we should have no great disposition to
attend to any thing else. The imprudences and errors of
poor feeble worms do not prevent great rejoicing, in the
presence of toe angels of God, over so many poor sinners
that have repented ; and it will be an argument of some
thing very ill in us, if they prevent our rejoicing.
Who loves, in a day of great joy and gladness, to be
much insisting on those things that are uncomfortable ?
Would it not be very improper, on a king's coronation-

day, to be much in taking notice of the blemishes of the
royal family ? Or would it be agreeable to the bride
groom, on toe day of his espousals, toe day of toe gladness
of his heart, to be much insisting on the blemishes of his
bride? We have an account, how at the time of that
joyful dispensation of Providence, the restoration of the
church of Israel after the Babylonish captivity, and at the
time of the feast of tabernacles, many wept at toe faults •
which were found amongst toe people, but were reproved
for taking so much notice of the blemishes of that affair,
as to overlook toe cause of rejoicing. Neh. viii. 9—12.
" And Neliemiah which is the Tirshatha, and Ezra toe
priest the scribe, and toe Levites that taught the people,
said unto all the people, This day is holy unto toe Lord
your God, mourn not nor weep : for all the people wept,
when they heard the words of the law. Then he said
unto them, Go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet,
and send portions unto toem for whom nothing is pre
pared ; for this day is holy unto the Lord ; neither be you
sorry, for the joy of toe Lord is your strength. So the
Levites stilled all the people, saying, Hold your peace, for
the day is holy, neither be you grieved. And all the peo
ple went their way to eat, and to drink, and to send por
tions, and to make great mirth, because they had under
stood the words that were declared unto them."
God doubtless now expects, that all sorts of persons in
New England, rulers, ministers, and people, high and low,
rich and poor, old and young, should take great notice of
his hand in this mighty work of his grace, and should ap
pear to acknowledge his glory in it, and greatly to rejoice
m it, every one doing his utmost, in the place where God
has set them in, to promote it. And God, according to
his wonderful patience, seems to be still waiting to give us
opportunity thus to acknowledge and honour him. But,
if we finally Tefuse, there is not the least reason to expect
any otlier than that his awful curse will pursue us, and
that the pourings out of his wrath will be proportionable
to the despised outpourings of his Spirit and grace.

PART III.
SHOWING, IN MANY INSTANCES, WHEREIN THE SUBJECTS, OR ZEALOUS PROMOTERS, OP THIS WORK, HAVE BEEN
INJURIOUSLY BLAMED.

This work, which has lately been carried on in the land,
is the work of God, and not the work of man. Its begin
ning has not been of man's power or device, and its being
earned on depends not on our strength or wisdom ; but
yet God expects of all, that toey should use their utmost
endeavours to promote it, and that the hearts of all should
be greatly engaged in this affair. We should improve our
utmost strength in it. however vain human strength is
without the power of God ; and so he no less requires
that we should imnrove our utmost care, wisdom, and pru
dence, though human wisdom, of itself, be as vain as
human strength. Though God is wont to carry on such a
work, in such a manner as many ways to show toe weak
ness and vanity of means and human endeavours in them
selves ; yet, at the same time, he carries it on in such a
manner as to encourage diligence and vigilance in the use
of proper means and endeavours, and to punish toe
neglect of toem. Therefore, in our endeavours to promote
this great work, we ought to use the utmost caution, vigi
lance, and skill, in the measures we take in order to it. A
great affair should be managed with great prudence.
This is the most important affair that ever New England
was called to be concerned in. When a people are en
gaged in war with a powerful and crafty nation, it con
cerns them to manage an affair of such consequence with
the utmost discretion. Of what vast importance then
must it be, that we should be vigilant and prudent in the
management of this great war with so great a host of
subtle and cruel enemies. We must either conquer or be
conquered ; and the- consequence of the victory, on one
side, will be our eternal destruction in both soul and body

in hell, and on the other side, our obtaining the kingdom
of heaven, and reigning in it in eternal glory ! We had
need always to stand on our watch, and to be well versed
in the art of war, and not be ignorant of the devices of
our enemies, and to take heed lest by any means we be
beguiled through their subtlety.
Though the devil be strong, yet, in such a war as this,
he depends more on his craft than his strength. The
course he has chiefly taken, from time to time, to clog,
hinder, and overthrow revivals of religion in the church of
God, has been by his subtle, deceitful management, to
beguile and mislead those that have been engaged
therein ; and in such a course God has been pleased, in
his holy and sovereign providence, to suffer him to suc
ceed, oftentimes, in a great measure, to overthrow that
which in its beginning appeared most hopeful and glo
rious. The work now begun, as I have shown, is eminent
ly glorious, and, if it should go on and prevail, it would
make New England a kind of heaven upon earth. Is it
not therefore a thousand pities that it should be over
thrown, through wrong and improper management, which
we are led into by our subtle adversary, in our endeavours
to promote it ?— My present design is to take notice of
some things at which offence has been taken beyond just
bounds. I. One thing that has been complained of is, ministers
addressing themselves rather to the affections of their
hearers than to their understandings, and striving to raise
their passions to die utmost height, rather by a very affec
tionate manner of speaking, and a great appearance of

Part III.

OFFENCE TAKEN BEYOND JUST CAUSE.

391

earnestness in voice and gesture, than by clear reasoning,
and informing their judgment : by which means it is ob
jected that toe affections are moved, without a proportion
able enlightening of the understanding.
To which I would say, I am far from thinking that it is
not very profitable for ministers, in their preaching, to en
deavour clearly and distinctly to explain the doctrines of
religion, and unravel the difficulties that attend toem, and
to confirm them with strength of reason and argumenta
tion, and also to observe some easy and clear method in
their discourses, for the help of the understanding and
memory ; and it is very probable that these things have
been of late too much neglected by many ministers. Yet
I believe that toe objection made, of affections raised with
out enlightening toe understanding, is in a great measure
built on a mistake, and confused notions that some have
about the nature and cause of the affections, and the man
ner in which they depend on toe understanding. All af
fections are raised either by light in the understanding, or
by some error and delusion in the understanding: for all
affections do certainly arise from some apprehension in the
understanding; and that apprehension must either be
agreeable to truth, or else be some mistake or delusion ;
if it be an apprehension or notion toat is agreeable to
truth, then it is light in the understanding. Therefore the
thing to be inquired into is, whether toe apprehensions or
notions of divine and eternal things, that are raised in
people's minds by these affectionate preachers, whence
their affections are excited, be apprehensions agreeable to
truth, or whether they are mistakes. If the former, then
the affections are raised the way they should be, viz. by
informing the mind, or conveying light to the understand
ing. They go away with a wrong notion, who think that
those preachers cannot affect their hearers by enlightening
their understandings, except by such a distinct and learn
ed handling of the doctrinal points of religion, as depends
on human discipline, or the strength of natural reason,
and tends to enlarge their hearers' learning, and speculative
knowledge in divinity. The manner of preaching without
this, may be such as shall tend very much to set divine
and eternal things in a right view, and to give the hearers
such ideas and apprehensions of toem as are agreeable to
truth, and such impressions on their hearts as are answer
able to the real nature of things. And beside the words
that are spoken, the manner of speaking has a great
tendency to this. I think an exceeding affectionate way
of preaching about toe great things of religion, has in it
self no tendency to beget false apprehensions of them ;
but on the contrary, a much greater tendency to beget true
apprehensions of them, than a moderate, dull, indifferent
way of speaking of toem. An appearance of affection and
earnestness in the manner of delivery, though very great
indeed, if it be agreeable to the nature of the subject — and
be not beyond a proportion to its importance, and worthi
ness of affection, and if there be no appearance of its being
feigned or forced — has so much the greater tendency to
beget true ideas or apprehensions in the minds of the
hearers concerning the subject spoken of, and so to en
lighten the understanding : and that for this reason, That
such a way or manner of speaking of these things does, in
fact, more truly represent them, than a more cold and in
different way of speaking of them. If the subject be in
its own nature worthy of very great affection, then speak
ing of it with very great affection is most agreeable to the
nature of that subject, or is the truest representation of it,
and therefore has most of a tendency to beget true ideas of
it in the minds of those to whom the representation is
made. And I do not think ministers are to be blamed
for raising the affections of their hearers too high, if that
which they are affected with be only that which is worthy
of affection, and their affections are not raised beyond a
froportion to their importance, or worthiness of affection.
should think myself in the way of my duty, to raise the
affections of my hearers as high as possibly lean, provided
that they are affected with nothing but truth, and with
affections that are not disagreeable to the nature ofthe sub
ject. I know it has long been fashionable to despise a
very earnest and pathetical way of preaching ; and they
only have been valued as preachers, who have shown the
greatest extent of learning, strength of reason, and correct

ness of method and language. But I humbly conceive it
has been for want of understanding or duly considering
human nature, that such preaching has been thought to
have the greatest tendency to answer the ends of preaching ;
and the experience of the present and past ages abundantly
confirms the same. Though, as I said before, clearness of
distinction and illustration, and strength of reason, and a
good method, in the doctrinal handling of the truths of
religion, is many ways needful and profitable, and not to
be neglected ; yet an increase in speculative knowledge in
divinity is not what is so much needed by our people as
something else. Men may abound in this sort of light,
and have no heat. How much has there been of this sort
of knowledge, in the christian world, in this age ! Was
there ever an age, wherein strength and penetration of rea
son, extent of learning, exactness of distinction, correctness
of style, and clearness of expression, did so abound ? And
yet, was there ever an age, wherein there has been so little
sense of the evil of sin, so little love to God, heavenly-
mindedness, and holiness of life, among the professors of
the true religion? Our people do not so much need to
have their heads stored, as to have their hearts touched ;
and they stand in the greatest need of that sort of preach
ing, which has the greatest tendency to do this.
Those texts, Isa. lviii. 1. " Cry aloud, spare not, lift up
thy voice like a trumpet, and show my people their trans
gression, and the house of Jacob their sins. And, Ezek.
vi. 11. " Thus saith the Lord God, Smite with thine hand,
and stamp with thy foot, and say, Alas, for all the evii
abominations of the house of Israel !" I say, these texts
(however the use that some have made of them has been
laughed at) will fully justify a great degree of pathos, and
manifestation of zeal and fervency in preaching the word
of God. They may indeed be abused, so as to counte
nance that which would be odd and unnatural amongst us,
not making due allowance for difference of manners and
customs in different ages and nations; but, let us interpret
them how we will, they at least imply, that a most affec
tionate and earnest manner of delivery, in many cases,
becomes a preacher of God's word.
Preaching of the word of God is commonly spoken of in
Scripture, in such expressions as seem to import a loud
and earnest speaking; as in Isa. xl. 2. " Speak ye com
fortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her iniquity
is pardoned." And ver. 3. " The voice of him that crieth
in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way ofthe Lord," — ver. 6.
" The voice said, Cry. And he said. What shall I cry ?
All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof as the
flower of the field." Jer. ii. 2. " Go and cry in the ears of
Jerusalem, saying, Thus saith the Lord," &c. Jonah i. 2.
" Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it."
Isa. lxi. 1, 2. " The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings
to the meek — to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the
opening of the prison to them that are bound : to proclaim
the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance
of our God." Isa. Ixii. 11. " Behold, the Lord hath pro
claimed unto the end of the world, Say ye to the daughter
of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh," &c. Rom. x. 18.
" Their sound went into all the earth, and their words to
the end of the world." Jer. xi. 6. " Proclaim all these
words in the cities of Judah, and in the streets of Jeru
salem, saying, Hear ye the words of this covenant, and do
them." So, chap. xix. 2. and vii. 2. Prov. viii. 1. " Doth
not wisdom cry, and understanding put forth her voice ?"
ver. 3, 4. " She crieth at the gates, at the entry ofthe citv,
at the coming in at the doors. Unto you, O men, I call,
and my voice is to the sons of men." And chap. i. 20.
" Wisdom crieth without, she uttereth her voice in the
streets." Chap. ix. 3. " She hath sent forth her maidens,
she crieth upon the high places of the city." John vii.
37. " In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus
stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come
unto me and drink."
It seems to be foretold, that the gospel should be espe
cially preached in a loud and earnest manner, at the intro
duction of the prosperous state of religion in the latter
days. Isa. xl. 9. " O Zion, that bringest good tidings,
get thee up into the high mountain ! O Jerusalem, that
bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength ! Lift

392

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part III.

it up, and be not afraid ! Say unto the cities of Judah,
Behold your God !" Isa. Hi. 7, 8. " How beautiful upon
the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good
tidings! — Thy watchmen shall lift up the voice." Isa.
xxvii. 13. " And it shall come to pass in that day, that
the great trumpet shall be blown, and they shall come
which were ready to perish." — And this will be one way
by which the church of God will cry at that time like a
travailing woman, when Christ mystical is going to be
brought forth; as Rev. xii. at the beginning. It will be
by ministers, as her mouth, that Christ will then cry like a
travailing woman, as in Isa. xiii. 14. "I have long time
holden my peace, 1 have been still and refrained myself:
now will I cry like a travailing woman." Christ cries by
his ministers, and the church cries bv her officers. And
it is worthy to be noted, that the word commonly used in
the New Testament which we translate preach, properly
signifies to proclaim aloud like a crier.
II. Another thing that some ministers have been greatly
blamed for, and I think unjustly, is speaking terror to
them who are already under great terrors, instead of com
forting them. Indeed, if ministers in such a case go about
to terrify persons with that which is not true, or to affright
them by representing their case worse than it is, or in any
respect otherwise than it is, toey are to be condemned ;
but if they terrify them only by still holding forth more
light to them, and giving them to understand more of the
truth of their case, they are altogether to be justified. When
consciences are greatly awakened by the Spirit of God, it
is but light imparted, enabling men to see their case, in
some measure, as it is ; and, if more light be let in, it will
terrify them still more. But ministers are not therefore to
be blamed, that they endeavour to hold forth more light to
the conscience, and do not rather alleviate the pain they
are under, by intercepting and obstructing the light that
shines already. To say any thing to those who have never
believed in toe Lord Jesus Christ, to represent their case
any otherwise than exceeding terrible, is not to preach the
word of God to them ; for the word of God reveals nothing
but truth ; but this is to delude them. Why should we be
afraid to let persons who are in an infinitely miserable
condition, know the truth, or bring them into the light, for
fear it should terrify them ? It is light that must convert
them, if ever they are converted. The more we bring sin
ners into the light, while they are miserable, and the light
is terrible to them, toe more likely it is that afterward the
light will be joyfui to them. The ease, peace, and comfort,
which natural men enjoy, have their foundation in dark
ness and blindness ; therefore as that darkness vanishes,
and light comes in, their peace vanishes, and they are
terrified. But that is no good argument why we should
endeavour to hold their darkness, that we may uphold
their comfort. The truth is, that as long as men reject
Christ, and do not savingly believe in him, however they
may be awakened, and however strict, and conscientious,
and laborious they may be in religion, they have the
wrath of God abiding on them, thev are his enemies, and
the children of the devil ; (as the Scripture calls all who
are not savingly converted, Matt. xiii. 38. 1 John iii. 10.)
and it is uncertain whether they shall ever obtain mercy.
God is under no obligation to show them mercy, nor will
he, if they fast and pray and cry never so much : and
they are then especially provoking God, under those ter
rors, that they stand it out against Christ, and will not
accept of an offered Saviour, though thev see so much need
of him. And seeing this is the truth, they should be told
so, that they may be sensible what their case indeed is.
To blame a minister for thus declaring the truth to
those who are under awakenings, and not immediately
administering comfort to them, is like blaming a surgeon,
because when he has begun to thrust in his lance, where
by he has already put his patient to great pain, and he
shrinks and cries out with anguish, he is so cruel that he
will not stay his hand, but goes on to thrust it in further,
till he comes to the core of the wound. Such a compas
sionate physician, who as soon as his patient began to
flinch, should withdraw his hand, and go about imme
diately to apply a plaister, to skin over the wound, and
leave the core untouched, would heal the hurt slightly,
crying, Peace, peace, when there is no peace.

Indeed something besides terror is to be preached to
them whose consciences are awakened. They are to be
told that there is a Saviour provided, who is excellent and
glorious; who has shed his precious blood for sinners,
and is every way sufficient to save them ; who stands
readv to receive them, if they will heartily embrace him;
for this is also the truth, as well as that they now are in an
infinitely dreadful condition. This is the word of God.
Sinners, at the same time that they are told how miserable
their case is, should be earnestly invited to come and ac
cept of a Saviour, and yield their hearts unto him, with all
the winning, encouraging arguments, that the gospel
affords. But this is to induce them to escape from the
misery of their condition, not to make them think their
present condition to be less miserable than it is, or to
abate their uneasiness and distress, while thev are in it.
That would be the way to quiet them, and fasten them
there, and not to excite them to flee from it. Comfort in
one sense, is to be held forth to sinners under awakenings
of conscience, i. e. comfort is to be offered to them in
Christ, on their fleeing from their present miserable state to
him. But comfort is not to be administered to them, in
their present state, or while out of Christ. No comfort is
to be administered to them, from any thing in them, any
of their qualifications, prayers, or other performances, past,
present, or future ; but ministers should, in such cases,
strive to their utmost to take all such comforts from them,
though it greatly increases their terror. A person who
sees himself ready to sink into hell, is prone to strive,
some way or other, to lay God under some obligation to
him ; but he is to be beat off from every thing of that
nature, though it greatly increases his terror, to see him
self wholly destitute of any refuge, or any thing of his
own to lav hold of; as a man that sees himself in danger
of drowning, is in terror, and endeavours to catch hold on
every twig within his reach, and he that pulls away those
twigs from him increases his terror ; yet if they are insuf
ficient to save him, and by being in his way prevents his
looking to that which will save him, to pull away them is
necessary to save his life.
If sinners are in distress from any error they embrace,
or mistake they are under, that is to be removed. For
instance, if they are in tenor, from an apprehension that
they have committed the unpardonable sin, or that those
things have happened to them which are certain signs of
reprobation, or any other delusion, such terrors have no
tendency to do them any good ; for these terrors are from
temptation, and not from conviction. But that terror
which arises from conviction, or a sight of truth, is to be
increased ; for those who are most awakened, have great
remaining stupidity. It is from remaining blindness and
darkness that they see no more, and that remaining blind
ness is a disease which we should endeavour to remove.
I am not afraid to tell sinners who are most sensible of
their misery, that their case is indeed as miserable as they
think it to be, and a thousand times more so ; for this is
the truth. Some mav be ready to say, that though it be
the truth, yet the truth is not to be spoken at all times,
and seems not to be seasonable then. But it seems to
me, such truth is never more seasonable than at such a
time, when Christ is beginning to open the eyes of con
science. Ministers ought to act as co-workers with him ;
to take that opportunity, and to the utmost to improve
that advantage, and strike while the iron is hot. When
the light has begun to shine, then they should remove all
obstacles, and use all proper means, that it may come in
more fully. And experience abundantly shows, that to
take this course is not of a hurtful tendency, but very
much the contrary. I have seen, in very many instances,
the happy effects of it, and oftentimes a very speedy
happy issue ; and never knew any ill consequence; in case
of real conviction, and when distress has been only from
thence. I know of but one case, wherein the truth ought to be
withheld from sinners in distress of conscience, and that is
the case of melancholy : and it is not to be withheld from
them, as if the truth tends to do them hurt ; but because,
if we speak the truth to them, sometimes they will be de
ceived, and led into error by it, through that strange dis
position there is in them to take things wron'j;. So that,

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though what is spoken is truth, yet as it is heard, re
ceived, and applied by them, it is falsehood ; as it will
be, unless the truth be spoken with abundance of caution
and prudence, and consideration of their disposition and
circumstances. But the most awful truths of God's word
ought not to be withheld from public congregations, be
cause it may happen that some such melancholic persons
may be in it : any more than the Bible is to be withheld
from the christian world, because it is manifest that there
are a great many melancholic persons in Christendom
that exceedingly abuse the awful things contained in the
Scripture, to their own wounding. Nor do I think that
to be of weight, which is made use of by some, as a great
and dreadful objection against the terrifying preaching that
has of late been in New England, viz. That there have
been some instances of melancholic persons who have so
abused it, that the issue has been the murder of them
selves. The objection from hence is ho stronger against
awakening preaching, than it is against the Bible itself.
There are hundreds, and probably thousands, of instances,
of persons who have murdered themselves under reli-
.gious melancholy. These murders probably never would
have been, if the world had remained in a state of hea
thenish darkness. The Bible has not only been the occa
sion of these sad effects, but of thousands, and I suppose
millions, of other cruel murders committed in the perse
cutions that have been raised, which never would have
been if it had not been for the Bible. Many whole coun
tries have been as it were deluged with innocent blood,
which would not have been if the gospel never had been
preached in the world. It is not a good objection against
any kind of preaching, that some men abuse it greatly to
their hurt. It has been acknowledged bv all divines, as a
thing common in all ages, and all christian countries, that
a very great part of those who sit under the gospel abuse
it. It proves an occasion of their far more aggravated
damnation, and so of eternally murdering their souls ;
which is an effect infinitely more terrible than the murder
of their bodies. It is as unjust to lay the blame of these
self-murders to those ministers who have declared the aw
ful truths of God's word in the most lively and affecting
manner, as it would be to lay the blame of hardening
men's hearts, and blinding their eyes, and their more
dreadful eternal damnation, to the prophet Isaiah or Jesus
Christ, because this was the consequence of their preach
ing with respect to many of their hearers ; Isa. vi. 10.
John ix. 39. Matt. xiii. 14. Though a few have abused
toe awakening preaching to their own temporal death ; yet
it may be to one such instance, there have been hundreds,
yea thousands, who have been saved, by this means, from
eternal death.
What has more especially given offence to many, and
raised a loud cry against some preachers, as though their
conduct were intolerable, is their frighting poor innocent
children with talk of hell-fire, and eternal damnation. But
if those who complain so loudly of this, really believe what
is the general profession of the country, viz. That all are
by nature the children of wrath, and heirs of hell — and
that every one that has not been bom again, whether he be
young or old, is exposed every moment to eternal destruc
tion — then such a complaint and cry as this bewrays a great
deal of weakness and inconsideration. Innocent as children
seem to us, yet, if they are out of Christ, they are not so
in toe sight of God ; but are in a most miserable con
dition, as well as grown persons : and they are naturally
very senseless and stupid, being born as the wild uss's colt,
and need much to awaken them. Why should we conceal
the truth from them ? Will those children who have been
dealt tenderly with in this respect, and lived and died
insensible of their misery till they come to feel it in hell,
ever thank parents and others for toeir tenderness, in not
letting them know their danger? If parents' love towards
their children were not blind, it would affect them much
more to see their children every day exposed to eternal
burnings, and yet senseless, than to' see toem suffer the
distress of toat awakening which is necessary in order to
their escape, and that tends to their being eternally happy
as the children of God. A child that has a dangerous
wound may need the painful lance, as well as grown per
sons ; and toat would be a foolish pity, in such a case,

toat should hold back the lance, and throw away the life-
— —I have seen the happy effects of dealing plainly and
thoroughly with children in the concerns of their souls,
without sparing them at all, in many instances ; and never
knew any ill consequence of it, in any one instance.
III. Another thing, against which a great deal has been
said, is having so frequent religious meetings, and spending
so much time in religion. Indeed, there are none of the
externals of religion but what are capable of excess ; and
I believe it is true, that there has not been.a due proportion
observed of late. We have placed religion too much in
the external duties of the first table ; we have abounded
in religious meetings, in praying, reading, hearing, singing,
and religious conference ; and there has not been a pro
portionable increase of zeal for deeds of charity, and other
duties of toe second table ; though it must be acknow
ledged that they are also much increased. But yet it
appears to me, that this objection has been in the general
groundless. Though worldly business must be done, and
persons ought not to neglect that of their particular call
ings ; yet it is to the honour of God, that a people should
be so much in outward acts of religion, as to carry in it a
visible, public appearance of a great engagedness of mind,
especially at such an extraordinary time. When God
appears unusally present with a people in wonderful
works of power and mercy, they should spend more time
than usual in religious exercises, to put honour upon that
God who is then extraordinarily present, and to seek his
face. Thus it was with the christian church in Jerusalem,
on occasion of that extraordinary pouring out of the Spirit,
soon after Christ's ascension, Acts ii. 46. "And they con
tinued daily with one accord in toe temple, and breaking
bread from house to house ; " and at Ephesus, where the
Christians attended public religious exercises, every day,
for two years together, Acts xix. 8, 9, 10. "And he went
into the synagogue, and spake boldly for the space of three
months, disputing and persuading the things concerning
the kingdom of God. But when divers were hardened,
and believed not, but spake evil of that way before the
multitude, he departed from them, and separated the dis
ciples, disputing daily in the school of one Tyrannus.
And this continued by the space of two years ; so that
all they that dwelt in Asia, heard the word of the Lord,
both Jews and Greeks." And as to the grand objection
of, six days shalt thou labour ; all that can be understood
by it, and all that the very objectors themselves understand
by it, is, that we may follow our secular labours in those
six days that are not the Sabbath, and ought to be diligent
in toem : not but that sometimes we may turn from them,
even within those six days, to keep a day of fasting or
thanksgiving, or to attend a lecture ; and that more fre
quently or rarely, as God's providence and the state of
things shall call us, according to the best of our discretion.
Though secular business, as I said before, ought not to
be neglected ; yet I cannot see how it can be maintained,
that religion ought not to be attended, lest it should injure
our temporal affairs, on any other principle than that of
infidelity. — None object against injuring one temporal
affair for toe sake of another of much greater importance :
And therefore, if eternal things are as real as temporal
things, and are indeed of infinitely greater importance ;
then why may we not voluntarily suffer, in some measure,
in our temporal concerns, while we are seeking eternal
riches, and immortal glory ? It is looked upon as no way
improper for a whole nation to spend a considerable time,
and much of their outward substance, on some extraordi
nary temporal occasion, for the sake only of the ceremonies
of a public rejoicing ; and it would be thought dishonour
able to be very exact about what we spend, or careful lest
we injure our estates, on such an occasion. And why
should we be exact only with Almighty God, so that it
should be a crime to be otherwise than scrupulously care
ful lest we injure ourselves in our temporal interest, to put
honour upon him, and seek our own eternal happiness ?
We should take heed that none of us be in any wise like
Judas, who greatly complained of needless expense, and
waste of outward substance, to put honour upon Christ,
when Mary broke her box, and poured the precious oint
ment on his head. He had indignation withm himself on
that account, and cries out, "Why was this waste of oint-

394

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part III.

ment made ? For it might have been sold for more than
three hundred pence, and have been given to toe poor,"
Mark xiv. 3, &c. and John xii. 4, &c.
Besides, if the matter be justly examined, I believe it
will be found, toat the country has lost no time from their
temporal affairs by the late revival of religion, but have
rather gained ; and that more time has been saved from
frolicking and tavern-haunting, idleness and unprofitable
visits, vain talk, fruitless pastimes, and needless diver
sions, than has lately been spent in extraordinary religion ;
and probably five times as much has been saved in various
ways, as has been spent by religious meetings. The great
complaint made against so much time being spent in re
ligion, cannot be in general from a real concern that God
may be honoured, and his will done, and the best good of
men promoted ; as is very manifest from this, that now
there is a much more earnest and zealous outcry made in
toe country against this extraordinary religion, than was
before against so much time spent in tavern-haunting, vain
company-keeping, night-walking, and other things, which
wasted both our time and substance and injured our
moral virtue.
The frequent preaching that has lately obtained, has in a
particular manner been objected against as unprofitable
and prejudicial. It is objected, that, when sermons are
heard so very often, one sermon tends to thrust out another ;
so that persons lose the benefit of all. They say, two or
three sermons in a week is as much as they can remember
and digest. — Such objections against frequent preaching, if
they be not from an enmity against religion, are for want of
duly considering toe way that sermons usually profit an
auditory. The main benefit obtained by preaching is by
impression made upon the mind at the time, and not by
an effect that arises afterwards by a remembrance of what
was delivered. And though an after-remembrance of what
was heard in a sermon is oftentimes very profitable; yet,
for the most part, that remembrance is from an impression
the words made on the heart at the time; and the memory
profits, as it renews and increases that impression. A
frequent inculcating the more important things of religion
in preaching, has no tendency to rase out such impressions,
but to increase them, and fix them deeper and deeper in
the mind, as is found by experience. It never used to be
objected against, that persons upon the Sabbath, after they
have heard two sermons on that dav, should go home, and
spend the remaining part of the Sabbath in reading the
Scriptures, and printed sermons ; which, in proportion as
it has a tendency to affect the mind at all, tends as much
to drive out what they have heard, as if they heard another
sermon preached. It seems to have been the practice of
the apostles to preach every day, in places where they
went ; yea, though sometimes they continued long in one
place, Acts ii. 42, 46. and xix. 8, 9, 10. They did not
avoid preaching one day, for fear they should thrust out of
the minds of their hearers what they had delivered the day
before ; nor did Christians avoid going every day to hear,
for fear of any such bad effect; Acts ii. 42, 46.
There are some things in Scripture that seem to signify
that there should be preaching in an extraordinary fre
quency, at the time when God should introduce the flou
rishing state of religion in the latter days ; as Isa. lxii. 1, 2.
" For Zion's sake will I not hold my peace, and for Jerusa
lem's sake 1 will not rest, until the righteousness thereof
go forth as brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp
that burnetii. And the Gentiles shall see thy righteousness,
and all kings thy glory." And ver. 5, 6. " For as a young
man marrieth a virgin, so shall thy sons marry thee : And
as a bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so shall thy God
rejoice over thee. I have set watchmen upon thy walls, O
Jerusalem, which shall never hold their peace day nor
night." The destruction of the city of Jericho is evidently,
in all its circumstances, intended by God as a great type
ofthe overthrow of Satan's kingdom. The priests blowing
with trumpets, represents ministers preaching the gospel.
The people compassed the city seven days, the priests
blowing the trumpets. But, when the day was come that
the wails of the city were to fall, the priests were more
frequent and abundant in blowing their trumpets ; there
was as much done in one day then, as had been done in
seven days before; they compassed the city seven times

that day, blowing their trumpets, till at length it came to
one long and perpetual blast, and then the walls of the city
fell down flat. The extraordinary preaching that shall be
at the beginning of that glorious jubilee of the church, is
represented by the extraordinary sounding of trumpets,
throughout the land of Canaan, at the beginning of the year
of jubilee. And the reading of the law before all Israel,
in the year of release, at the feast of tabernacles ; and the
crowing of the cock at break of day, which brought Peter
to repentance ; seem to me to be intended to signify the
awakening of God's church out of their lethargy, wherein
they had denied their Lord, by the extraordinary preaching
of the gospel that shall be at the dawning of the day of the
church s light and glory. And there seems at this day to
be an uncommon hand of Divine Providence, in animat
ing, enabling, and upholding some ministers in such abun
dant labours.
IV. Another thing, wherein I think some ministers
have been injured, is in being very much blamed for mak
ing so much of outcries, faintings, and other bodily effects ;
speaking of them as tokens of the presence of God, and
arguments of the success of preaching ; seeming to strive
to their utmost to bring a congregation to that pass, and
seeming to rejoice in it, yea, even blessing God for it when
they see these effects.
Concerning this I would observe, in the first place, That
there are many things, with respect to cryings out, falling ,
down, &c. charged on ministers, that they are not guilty
of. Some would have it, that they speak of these things
as certain evidences of a work of the Spirit of God on the
hearts of their hearers, or that they esteem these bodily
effects themselves to be the work of God, as though the
Spirit of God took hold of and agitated the bodies of men ;
and some arc charged with making these things essential,
and supposing that persons cannot be converted without
them ; whereas 1 never yet could see the person that held
either of these things.
But for speaking of such effects as probable tokens of
God's presence, and arguments of the success of preaching,
it seems to me they are not to be blamed ; because I think
they are so indeed. And therefore when I see them ex
cited by preaching the important truths of God's word,
urged and enforced by proper arguments and motives, or
as consequent on other means that are good, I do not scru
ple to speak of them, and to rejoice in them, and bless God
for them as such ; and for this reason, viz. That from time
to time, upon proper inquiry and examination, and obser
vation of the consequences and fruits, I have found that
these are all evidences ofthe persons in whom these effects
appear, being under the influences of God's Spirit, in such
cases. Crying out, in such a manner, and with such cir
cumstances, as I have seen them from time to time, is as
much an evidence to me, of the general cause it proceeds
from, as language. I have learned the meaning of it the
same way that persons learn the meaning of language, viz.
by use and experience. 1 confess that when I see a great
crying out in a congregation, in the manner that I have
seen it, when those things are held forth to them which are
worthy of their being greatly affected by them, I rejoice in
it, much more than merely in an appearance of solemn at
tention, and a show of affection by weeping ; and that be
cause when there have been those outcries, I have found
from time to time a much greater and more excellent effect.
To rejoice that the work of God is carried on calmly, with
out much ado, is in effect to rejoice that it is carried on
with less power, or that there is not so much of the influ
ence of God's Spirit. — For though the degree ofthe influ
ence of the Spirit of God on particular persons, is by no
means to be judged of by the degree of external appear
ances, because of the different constitutions, tempers, and
circumstances of men ; yet, if there be a very powerful
influence of the Spirit of God on a mixed multitude, it will
cause some way or other a great visible commotion.
And as to ministers aiming at such effects, and striving
by all means to bring a congregation to that pass, that
there should be such an uproar among them ; 1 suppose
none aim at it any otherwise, than as they strive to raise
the affections of their hearers to such a height as very often
appears in these effects. And if those affections are com
monly good, and it be found by experience that such a

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395

degree of them commonly has a good effect, I think they
are to be justified in so doing.
V. Again, some ministers have been blamed for keeping
persons together, that have been under great affections,
which have appeared in such extraordinary outward mani
festations. — -Many think this promotes confusion ; that per
sons in such circumstances do but discompose each others'
minds, and disturb the minds of others ; and that there
fore it is best they should be dispersed ; and that when
any in a congregation are strongly seized, that they cannot
forbear outward manifestations of it, they should be re
moved, that others' minds may not be diverted.
I cannot but think that those who thus object go
upon quite wrong notions of things. For though persons
ought to take heed that they do not make an ado without ne
cessity ; for this will be the way in time to have such appear
ances lose all their effect ; yet the unavoidable manifesta
tions of strong religious affections tend to a happy in-
influence on the minds of bystanders, and are found by
experience to have an excellent and durable effect. And
so to contrive and order things, that others may have op
portunity and advantage to observe them, has been found
to be blessed, as a great means to promote the work of
God ; and to prevent their being in the way of observa
tion, is to prevent the effect of that which God makes use
of as a principal means of carrying on his work at such
an extraordinary time, viz. example ; which is often
spoken of in Scripture, as one of the chief means by which
God would carry on his work in toe prosperity of religion
in the latter days. — I have mentioned some texts already
to this purpose, in what I published before, of the marks
of a work of the trite Spirit ; but would here mention
some others] In Zech. ix. 15, 16. those that in the latter
days should be filled in an extraordinary manner with the
Holy Spirit, so as to appear in outward manifestations,
and making a noise, are spoken of as toose that God, in
these uncommon circumstances, will set up to the view of
others, as a prize or ensign, by toeir example and toe ex
cellency of their attainments, to animate and draw others,
as men gather about an ensign, and run for a prize, a
crown and precious jewels, set up in toeir view. The
words are ; " And toey shall drink and make a noise as
through wine, and they shall be filled like bowls, and as
the comers of the altar. And the Lord their God shall
save them in that day as the flock of his people ; for they
shall be as the stones of a crown, lifted up as an ensign
upon his land." (I shall have occasion to say something
more of this scripture afterwards.) Those that make the
objection I am upon, instead of suffering this ensign to be
in public view, are for having it removed, and hid in
some corner. To the like purpose is that, Isa. lxii. 3.
" Thou shalt be a crown of glory in the hand of the Lord,
and a royal diadem in the hand of thy God." Here it is
observable, that it is not said, thou shalt be a crown upon
the head, but in the hand, of the Lord ; i. e. held forth, in
thy beauty and thy excellency, as a prize, to be bestowed
upon others that shall behold thee, and be animated by
the brightness and lustre which God shall endow thee
with. The gi'eat influence of the example of God's people,
in their bright and excellent attainments, to propagate re
ligion in those days, is further signified in Isa. Ix. 3.
" And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and Kings to
the brightness of toy rising." Wito ver. 22. " A little one
shall become a thousand, and a small one a strong nation."
And Zech. x. 8, 9. "And they shall increase, as they
have increased : and I will sow them among the people.''
And Hos. ii. 23. "And I will sow her unto me in the
earth." So Jer. xxxi. 27.
VI. Another thing that gives great disgust to many, is
the disposition that persons show, under great affections,
to speaK so much ; and, with such earnestness and vehe
mence, to be setting forth the greatness, and wonderfulness,
and importance of divine and eternal things ; and to be
so passionately warning, inviting, and entreating others.
Concerning which I would say, that I am far from
thinking that such a disposition should be wholly without
any limits or regulation (as I shall more particularly show
afterwards) ; and I believe some have erred, in setting no
bounds, and indulging and encouraging this disposition
•without any kind of restraint or direction. But yet it

seems to me, that such a disposition in general is what
both reason and Scripture will justify. Those who are of
fended at such things, as though they were unreasonable,
are not just. Upon examination it will probably be found,
that they have one rule of reasoning about temporal things,
and another about spiritual things. They do not at all
wonder, if a person on some very great and affecting occa
sion, an occasion of extraordinary danger or great joy, that
eminently and immediately concerns him and others — is
disposed to speak much, and wito great earnestness,
especially to those with whom he is united in the bonds
of dear affection, and great concern for their good. And
therefore, if they were just, why would not they allow it
in spiritual things ? and much more in them, agreeably to
the vastly greater importance and more affecting nature of
spiritual things, and the concern which true religion causes
in men's minds for the good of others, and the disposition
it gives and excites to speak God's praises, to show forth
his infinite glory, and talk of all his glorious perfections
and works ?
That a very great and proper sense of the importance of
religion, and toe danger sinners are in, should sometimes
cause an almost insuperable disposition to speak and warn
others, is agreeable to Jer. vi. 10, 11. " To whom shall I
speak and give warning, that they may hear ? Behold,
their ear is uncircumcised, and they cannot hearken : Be
hold, the word of the Lord is unto them a reproach ; they
have no delight in it. Therefore I am full of the fury of
the Lord ; I am weary with holding in : I will pour it
out upon the children abroad, and upon the assembly of
the young men together ; for even the husband with toe
wife shall be taken, the aged, with him that is full of days."
And that true Christians, when they come to be as it were
waked out of sleep, and to be filled with a sweet and joy
ful sense ofthe excellent things of religion, by the preach
ing of the gospel, or by other means of grace, should be
disposed to be much in speaking of divine things, though
before they were dumb, is agreeable to what Christ says
to his church, Cant. vii. 9. " And the roof of thy mouth is
like the best wine, for my beloved, that goeth down
sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak."
The roof of the church s mouth is toe officers in the church,
that preach the gospel ; their word is to Christ's beloved
like toe best wine, that goes down sweetly ; extraordinarily
refreshing and enlivening the saints, causing them to speak,
though before they were mute and asleep. It is said by
some, that the subjects of this work, when they get to
gether, talking loud and earnestly in their pretended great
joys, several in a room talking at the same time, make a
noise just like a company of drunken persons. On which
I would observe, that it is foretold that God's people
should do so, in that forementioned place, Zech. ix. 15 —
17. of which I shall now take more particular notice. The
words are as follows ; " The Lord of hosts shall defend
them, and they shall devour and subdue with sling stones,
and they shall drink and make a noise as through wine,
and they shall be filled like bowls, and as the corners of
the altar. And the Lord their God shall save them in that
day as the flock of his people ; for they shall be as the
stones of a crown, lifted up as an ensign upon his land.
For how great is his goodness, and how great is his
beauty ! Corn shall make the young men cheerful, and
new wine the maids." The words are very remarkable :
Here it is foretold, that at the time when Christ shall set
up an universal kingdom upon earth (ver. 20.) the children
of Zion shall drink, till they are filled like the vessels of
the sanctuary. And, if we would know with what they
shall be thus filled, the prophecy does in effect explain it
self; they shall be filled as the vessels of the sanctuary
that contained the drink-offering, which was wine. And
yet the words imply, that it shall not literally be wine
that they shall drink and be filled with, because it is said,
They shall drink, and make a noise, as through wine, as
if they had drank wine ; which implies that they had not
literally done it. And therefore we must understand the
words, that they shall drink into that, and be filled with
that, which the wine of the drink-offering typically repre
sented, which is the Holy Spirit, as well as the blood of
Christ, that new wine that is drank in our heavenly
Father's kingdom. They shall be filled with the Spirit,

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which the Apostle sets in opposition to a being drunk with
wine, Eph. v. 18. "This is the new wine spoken of, ver.
17. It is toe same with that best wine, spoken of in Can
ticles," that goes down sweetly, causing the lips of toose that
are asleep to speak." It is here foretold, that the children of
Zion, in the latter days, should be filled with that which
should make them cheerful, and cause them to make a
noise as through wine, and by which these joyful happy
persons shall be as the stones of a crown lifted up as an
ensign upon God's land, being made joyful in the extra
ordinary manifestations of the beauty and love of Christ ;
as it follows, " How great is his goodness ! and how great is
his beauty !" And it is further remarkable that, as is here
foretold, it should be thus especially amongst young
people ; " Corn shall make toe young men cheerful, and
new wine the maids." It would be ridiculous to understand
this of literal bread and wine. Without doubt, the same
spiritual blessings are signified by bread and wine here,
which were represented by Melchizedek's bread and wine,
and are signified by the bread and wine in the Lord's sup
per. One of toe marginal readings is, " shall make the
young men to speak ;" which is agreeable to that in Can
ticles, of the " best wines causing the lips of those that are
asleep to speak."
We ought not to be, in any measure, like the unbeliev
ing Jews in Christ's time, who were disgusted both with
crying out with distress, and with joy. When the poor
blind man cried out before all the multitude, " Jesus, thou
Son of David, have mercy on me ! " and continued instant
ly thus doing, the multitude rebuked him, and charged him
that he should hold his tongue, Mark x. 46 — 48. and Luke
xviii. 38, 39. They looked upon it to be a very indecent
noise that he made ; a thing very ill becoming him, to
cause his voice to be heard so much, and so loud, among
the multitude. And when Christ made his solemn and
triumphant entry into Jerusalem, (which, I have before ob
served, was a type of the glory and triumph of the latter
days,) the whole multitude of the disciples, especially
young people, began to rejoice and praise God with a loud
voice, for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying,
" Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord !
peace in heaven, and glory in the highest !" The Phari
sees said to Christ, " Master, rebuke thy disciples." They
did not understand such great transports of joy ; it seemed
to them a very unsuitable and indecent noise and clamour
that they made, a confused uproar, many crying out to
gether, as though they were out of their wits ; they wonder
ed that Christ would tolerate it. But what says Christ ?
" I tell you, that if these should hold their peace, the
stones would immediately cry out." The words seem to
intimate, that there was cause enough to constrain those
whose hearts were not harder than the very stones, to cry
out, and make a noise ; which is something like that other
expression, of" causing the lips of those that are asleep to
.speak." When many, under great religious affections, are earnest
ly speaking together of divine wonders, in various parts of
a company, to those who are next them ; some attending
to one, and others to another; there is something very
beautiful in it, provided they do not speak so as to drown
each others' voices, that none can hear what any say. There
is a greater and more affecting appearance of a joint en-
gagedness of heart, in the love and praises of God ; and I
had rather see it, than to see one speaking alone, and all
attending to what he says ; it has more of the appearance
of conversation. When a multitude meets on any occa
sion of temporal rejoicing, freely and cheerfully to con
verse together, they are not wont to observe the ceremony
of but one speaking at a time, while all the rest in a
formal manner set themselves to attend to what he says.
That would spoil all conversation, and turn it into the
formality of set speeches. It is better for lay persons,
speaking one to another of the things of God, when they
meet together, to speak after the manner of christian con
versation, than to observe the formality of but one speaking
at a time, the whole multitude silently and solemnly at
tending to what he says ; which would carry in it too
much of the air of the authority and solemnity of preaching.
The apostle says, 1 Cor. xiv. 29, 30, 31. " Let the prophets
speak, two or three, and let the others judge : If any thing

be revealed to another that sitteth by, let the first hold his
fieace : For ye may all prophesy, one by one, that all may
earn, and all may be comforted ;" but this does not reach
the present case, "because what the apostle is speaking of
is the solemnity of their religious exercises in public wor
ship, and persons speaking in toe church by immediate
inspiration, and in the use of the gift of prophecy, or some
gift of inspiration, in the exercises of which they acted as
extraordinary ministers of Christ.
VII. Another thing that some have found fault with, is
abounding so much in singing in religious meetings. Ob
jecting against such a thing as this, seems to arise from a
suspicion already established of this work. They doubt of
the pretended extraordinary love and joys that attend this
work, and so find fault with the manifestations of them.
If they thought persons were truly the subjects of an ex
traordinary degree of divine love, and heavenly rejoicing
in God, I suppose they would not wonder at their having
a disposition to be much in praise. They object not
against the saints and angels in heaven singing praises and
hallelujahs to God, without ceasing day or night; and
therefore doubtless will allow that the more the saints on
earth are like them in their dispositions, the more they will
be disposed to do like them. They will readily own that
the generality of Christians have great reason to be asham
ed that they have so little thankfulness, and are no more in
praising God, whom they have such infinite cause to praise.
And why therefore should Christians be found fault with,
for showing a disposition to be much in praising God, and
manifesting a delight in that heavenly exercise ? To com
plain of this, is to be too much like the Pharisees, who were
disgusted when the multitude of the disciples begaft to re
joice, and with loud voices to praise God, and cry, Ho
sanna, when Christ was entering into Jerusalem.
There are many things in Scripture, that seem to inti
mate that praising God, both in speeches and songs, will
be what the church of God will very much abound in, in
the approaching glorious day. So on the seventh day of
compassing the walls of Jericho, when the priests blew with
the trumpets in an extraordinary manner, the people shout
ed with a great shout, and the wall of the city fell down
flat. So the ark was brought back from its banishment,
with extraordinary shouting and singing of the whole con
gregation of Israel. And the places in the prophecies of
Scripture, signifying that the church of God, in the glorious
Jubilee that is foretold, shall greatly abound in singing and
shouting forth the praises of God, are too many to be
mentioned. And there will be cause enough for it : I be
lieve it will be a time wherein both heaven and earth will
be much, more full of joy and praise than ever they were
before. But what is more especially found fault with, in the
singing that is now practised, is making use of hymns of
human composure. I am far from thinking that the book
of Psalms should be thrown by in our public worship, but
that it should always be used in the christian church to the
end of the world : but I know of no obligation we are un
der to confine ourselves to it. I can find no command or
rule of God's word, that does any more confine us to the
words of the Scripture in our singing, than it does in our
praying ; we speak to God in both. And I can see no
reason why we should limit ourselves to such particular
forms of words, that we find in the Bible, in speaking to
him by way of praise, in metre, and with music, than when
we speak to him in prose, by way of prayer and supplica
tion. And it is really needful that we should have some
other songs besides the Psalms of David. It is unreason
able to suppose that the christian church should for ever,
and even in times of her greatest light, in her praises of
God and the Lamb, be confined only to the words of the
Old Testament, wherein all the greatest and most glorious
things of the gospel, that are infinitely the greatest subjects
of her praise, are spoken of under a veil, and not so much
as the name of our glorious Redeemer ever mentioned, but
in some dark figure, or as hid under the name of some
type. And as to our making use of the words of others,
and not those that are conceived by ourselves, it is no more
than we do in all our public prayers ; the whole worship
ping assembly, excepting one only, makes use of the
words that are conceived by him who speaks for the rest.

Part IV.

ERRORS THAT ATTEND A GREAT REVIVAL.

397

VIII. Another thing that many have disliked, is the re
ligious meetings of children to read and pray together, and
perform religious exercises by themselves. What is ob
jected is children's want of that knowledge and discretion
which is requisite in order to a decent and profitable
management of religious exercises. But it appears to me
the objection is not sufficient. Children, as they have the
nature of men, are inclined to society ; and those of them
who are capable of society one with another, are capable of
the influence of the Spirit of God in its active fruits. And
if they are inclined by a religious disposition, which they
have from the Spirit of God, in order to improve their
society one with another, in a religious manner, and to re
ligious purposes, who should forbid them ? If they have
not discretion to observe method in their religious per
formances, or to speak sense in all that they say in prayer,
they may notwithstanding have a good meaning, and God
understands them, and it does not spoil or interrupt their
devotion one with another. We who are adults have de
fects in our prayers, that are a thousand times worse in the
sight of God, and are a greater confusion, and more absurd
nonsense in his eyes, than their childish indiscretions.
There is not so much difference before God, between chil
dren and grown persons, as we are ready to imagine; we
are all poor, ignorant, foolish babes, in his sight. Our
adult age does bring us so much nearer to God as we are
apt to think. God in this work has shown a remarkable
regard to little children ; never was there such a glorious
work amongst persons in their childhood, as has been of
late, in New England. He has been pleased in a wonder
ful manner to perfect praise out of the mouths of babes
and sucklings ; and many of them have more of that know
ledge and wisdom that pleases him, and renders their re
ligious worship acceptable, than many of the great and

learned men of the world : it is they, in the sight of God,
who are the ignorant and foolish children ; these are grown
men, and an hundred years old, in comparison with them.
It is to be hoped that the days are coming, prophesied of,
Isa. lxv. 20. when " the child shall die an hundred years
old." I have seen many happy effects of children's religious
meetings ; and God has seemed often remarkably to own
them in their meetings, and really descended from heaven
to be amongst them : I have known several probable in
stances of children's being converted at such meetings. I
should therefore think, that if children appear to be really
moved to it by a religious disposition, and not merely from
a childish affectation of imitating grown persons, they
ought by no means to be discouraged or discountenanced.
But yet it is fit that care should be taken of them by their
parents and pastors, to instruct and direct them, and to
con'ect imprudent conduct and irregularities if they are
perceived, or any thing by which the devil may pervert and
destroy the design of their meetings. — All should take
heed that they do not find fault with and despise the re
ligion of children, from an evil principle, lest they should
be like the chief priests and scribes, who were sore dis
pleased at the religious worship and praises of little chil
dren, and the honour they gave Christ in the temple. We
have an account of it, and of what Christ said upon it, in
Matt. xxi. 15,16. " And when the chief priests and scribes
saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children
crying in the temple, and saying, Hosanna to the Son of
David, they were sore displeased, and said unto him,
Hearest thou what those say ? And Jesus saith unto them,
Yea, have ye never read, Out of the mouths of babes and
sucklings thou hast perfected praise 1"

PART IV.

SHOWING WHAT THINGS ARE TO BE CORRECTED OR AVOIDED, IN PROMOTING THIS WORK, OR IN OUR BEHAVIOUR
UNDER IT.

Having thus observed, in some instances, wherein the
conduct of those that have appeared to be the subjects of
this work, or have been zealous to promote it, has been
objected against or complained of without or beyond just
cause ; I proceed now to show what things ought to be
corrected or avoided.
Many, who are zealous for this glorious work of God,
are heartily sick of the great noise there is in the country
about imprudences and disorders ; they have heard it so often
from the mouths of opposers, that they are prejudiced
against the sound. And they look upon it, that what is
called being prudent and regular, so much insisted on, is
no other than being asleep, or cold and dead, in religion ;
and that the great imprudence, so much blamed, is only
being alive and engaged in the things of God. They are
therefore rather confirmed in any practice, than brought off
from it, by the clamour they hear against it, as imprudent
and irregular. And, to tell the truth, the cry of irregular
ity and imprudence has been much more in the mouths of
those who have been enemies to the main ofthe work than
others ; for they have watched for the halting of the zeal-
' ous,and eagerly catched at any thing that has been wrong,
and have greatly insisted on it, made the most of it, and
magnified it; especially have toey watched for errors in
zealous preachers, who' are much in reproving and con
demning the wickedness of the times. They would there
fore do well to consider that scripture, Isa. xxix. 20, 21.
"The scorner is consumed, and all toat watch for iniquity
are cut off, that make a man an offender for a word, and
lay a snare for him that reproveth in the gate, and turn
aside the just for a thing of nought." They have not only
too much insisted on the magnified real errors, but haye
very injuriously charged them as guilty in things wherein
they have been innocent, and have done their duty. This
has so prejudiced the minds of some, that they have been

ready to think that all that which has been said about er
rors and imprudences was injurious and from an ill spirit.
It has confirmed them, that there is no such thing as any
prevailing imprudences ; and it has made them less cau
tious and supicious of themselves, lest they should err. —
Herein the devil has had an advantage put into his hands,
and has taken it ; and, doubtless, has been too subtle for
some of the true friends of religion. That would be strange
indeed, if in so great a commotion and revolution, and
such a new state of things, wherein so many have been
engaged, none have been guilty of any imprudence. It
would be such a revival of religion as never was, if among
so many men, not guided by infallible inspiration, there
had not been many notable errors in judgment and con
duct ; our young preachers, and young converts, must in
general vastly exceed Luther, the head of the reformation,
who was guilty of a great many excesses in that great af
fair in which God made him the chief instrument.
If we look back into the history of the church of God
in past ages, we may observe that it has been a common
device of the devil, to overset a revival of religion ; when
he finds he can keep men quiet and secure no longer, then
he drives them to excesses and extravagances. He holds
them back as long as he can ; but when he can do it no
longer, then he will push them on, and, if possible, run
them upon their heads. And it has been by this means
chiefly that he has been successful, in several instances, to
overthrow most hopeful and promising beginnings. Yea,
the principal means by which the devil was successful, by
degrees, to overset the grand religious revival of the world,
in the primitive ages of Christianity, and in a manner to
overthrow the christian church through the earth, and to
make way for the great Antichristian apostacy, that master
piece of all the devil's works? was to improve the indis
creet ?eal of Christians, to drive them into those three ex-

398

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

tremes of enthusiasm, superstition, and severity towards op
posers; which should be enough for an everlasting warn
ing to the christian church.
Though the devil will do his diligence to stir up the open
enemies of religion, yet he knows what is for his interest
so well, that, in a time of revival of religion, his main strength
shall be tried with the friends of it ; and he will chiefly
exert himself in his attempts to mislead them. One truly
zealous person, in the time of such an event, that seems to
have a great hand in the affair, and draws the eyes of many
upon him, may do more (through Satan's being too subtle
for him) to hinder the work, than a hundred great, and
strong, and open opposers. In the time of the great work
of Christ, his hands, with which he works, are often wound
ed in the house of his friends, and his work hindered chief
ly by them : so that if any one inquires, as in Zech. xiii.
6. " What are those wounds in thine hands ?" he may an
swer, " Those with which I was wounded in the house of
my friends."
The errors of the friends of the work of God, and espe
cially of the great promoters of it, give vast advantage to
the enemies of such a work. Indeed there are many things
which are no errors, but are only duties faithfully and
thoroughly done, that wound toe minds of such persons
more than real errors : but yet one real error gives opposers
as much advantage, and hinders and clogs the work as
much,as ten that are only supposed ones. Real errors do not
fret and gall the enemies of religion so much as those things
that are strictly right ; but they encourage them more, they
give them liberty, and open a gap for them ; so that some
who before kept toeir enmity burning in their own breasts,
and durst not show themselves, will on such an occasion
take courage, and give themselves vent, and their rage will
be like that of an enemy let loose. Those who lay still
before, having nothing to say but what they would be
ashamed of, (agreeable to Tit. ii. 8.) when they have such
a weapon put into their hands, will fight with all violence.
And indeed the enemies of religion would not know what
to do for weapons to fight with, were it not for the en-ors of
its friends ; and so must soon fall before them. Besides,
in real errors, things that are truly disagreeable to the rule
of God's word, we cannot expect the divine protection,
and that God will appear on our side, as if our errors were
only supposed ones.
Since therefore toe errors of the friends and promoters
of such a glorious work of God are of such dreadful
consequence ; and seeing the devil, being sensible of this,
is so assiduous, watchful, and subtle in his attempts with
them, and has thereby been so successful to overthrow
religion heretofore; certainly such persons ought to be
exceeding circumspect and vigilant, diffident and jealous
of toemselves, and humbly dependent on the guidance of
the good Shepherd. 1 Pet. iv. 7. " Be sober, and watch
unto prayer." And chap. v. 8. " Be sober, be vigilant;
because your adversary toe devil, as a roaring lion, walk-
eth about." For persons to go on resolutely, in a kind of
heat and vehemence, despising admonition and correction,
being confident that they must be in the right because they
are full of the Spirit, is directly contrary to the import of
these words, be sober, be vigilant.
It is a mistake I have observed in some, by which they
have been greatly exposed to their wounding, that they
think they are in no danger of going astray, or being mis
led by the devil, because they are near to God ; and so
have no jealous eye upon themselves, and neglect vigilance
and circumspection, as needless in their case. They say,
they do not think toat God will leave them to dishonour
him, and wound religion as long as they keep near to
him. And I believe so too, as long as they keep near to
God, so as to maintain an universal and diligent watch,
and care to do their duty, avoid sin and snares with diffi
dence in themselves, and humble dependence and prayer-
fulness. But not merely because they are receiving
blessed communications from God, in refreshing views of
him ; if at the same time they let down toeir watch, and
are not jealous over their own hearts, by reason of its
remaining blindness and corruption, and a subtle adver
sary. — It is a grand error for persons to think they are out
of danger from the devil, and a comipt, deceitful heart,
even in their highest flights, and most raised frames of

spiritual joy. For persons, in such a confidence, to cease
to be jealous of themselves, and to neglect watchfulness
and care, is a presumption by which I have known many
wofully insnared. However highly we may be favoured
with divine discoveries and comforts, yet, as long as we are
in the world, we are in the enemies' country ; and there
fore that direction of Christ to his disciples is never out of
date in this world, Luke xxi. 36. " Watch and pray always,
that you may be accounted worthy to escape all these
things, and to stand before the Son of man." It was not
out of date with the disciples to whom it was given, after
they came to be full of the Holy Ghost, and out of their
bellies flowed rivers of living water, by that great effusion
upon them that began on the day of Pentecost. And
though God stands ready to protect his people, especially
those that are near to him ; yet he expects of all great care
and labour, and that we should put on the whole armour
of God, that we may stand in the evil day. To whatever
spiritual privileges we are raised, we have no warrant to
expect protection in any other way ; for God has appointed
this whole life, to be all as a race or a battle ; toe state of
rest, wherein we shall be so out of danger as to have no
need of watching and fighting, is reserved for another
world. I have known it in abundance of instances, that
the devil has come in very remarkably, even in the midst
of the most excellent frames. It may seem a great mystery
that it should be so ; but it is no greater mystery, than that
Christ should be taken captive by the devil, and carried
into the wilderness, immediately after the heavens had
been opened to him, and the Holy Ghost descended like
a dove upon him, and when he heard toat comfortable,
joyful voice from the Father, saying, " This is my beloved
Son, in whom I am well pleased." In like manner
Christ in the heart of a Christian, is oftentimes as it were
taken, and carried captive into a wilderness, presently after
heaven has been as it were opened to the soul, and toe
Holy Ghost has descended upon it like a dove, and when
God has been sweetly owning the believer, and testifying
his favour to him as his beloved child.
It is therefore a great error and sin in some persons, at
this day, that they are fixed in some things which others
account errors, and will not hearken to admonition and
counsel, but are confident that they are in toe right, be
cause God is much with them. There were some such in
the apostles' days. The apostle Paul, writing to toe Co
rinthians, was sensible toat some of them would not be
easily convinced toat they had been in any error, because
they looked upon themselves as spiritual, or full of the
Spirit of God, 1 Cor. xiv. 37, 38. " If any man think
himself to be a prophet, or spiritual, let him acknowledge
that the things that I write unto you are the command
ment of the Lord; but if any man be ignorant, let him
be ignorant."
And although those who are spiritual amongst us have
no infallible apostle to admonish them, yet let me entreat
them, by the love of Christ, calmly and impartially to
weigh what may be said to them by one who is their hearty
and fervent friend, (though an inferior worm,) in giving his
humble opinion concerning the errors that have been com
mitted, by the zealous friends or promoters of this great
work of God. In speaking of past errors, and those we
are in danger of, I would, in the
First place, take notice of the causes whence the errors
that attend a great revival of religion usually arise ; and,
as I go along, take notice of some particular errors that
arise from each of those causes.
Secondly, Observe some errors toat have been owing to •
the influence of several of those causes conjunctly.
The errors that attend a great revival of religion usually
arise from these three things ; 1 . Undiscerned spiritual
pride; 2. Wrong principles ; and 3. Ignorance of Satan's
advantages and devices.

SECT. I.
One cause of errors attending a great revival of religion,
is undiscerned spiritual pride.
The first and the worst cause of en-ors, that prevail in
such a state of things, is spiritual pride. This is the main

Sect. I.

UNDISCERNED SPIRITUAL PRIDE.

399

door by which toe devil comes into the hearts of toose
who are zealous for the advancement of religion. It is
the chief inlet of smoke from the bottomless pit, to darken
the mind and mislead the judgment. This is the main
handle by which the devil has hold of religious persons,
and the chief source of all the mischief toat he intro
duces, to clog and hinder a work of God. — This cause of
error is toe main spring, or at least the main support, of all
the rest. Till this disease is cured, medicines are in vain
applied to heal other diseases. It is by this that the mind
defends itself in other errors, and guards itself against
light, by which it might be corrected and reclaimed. The
spiritually proud man is full of light already, he does not
need instruction, and is ready to despise the offer of it.
But, if this disease be healed, other things are easily
rectified. The humble person is like a little child, he
easily receives instruction; he is jealous over himself,
sensible how liable he is to go astray, and therefore, if it
be suggested to him that he does so, he is ready most
narrowly and impartially to inquire. Nothing sets a
person so much out of toe devil's reach as humility, and
so prepares the mind for true divine light without dark
ness, and so clears the eye to look on things as they truly
are ; Ps. xxv. 9. " The meek will he guide in judgment.
And toe meek will he teach his way." Therefore we
should fight, neither with small nor with great, but with
the king of Israel. Our first care should be to rectify the
heart, and pull the beam out of our eye, and then we shall
see clearly.
I know' that a great many things at this day are very
injuriously laid to the pride of those that are zealous in the
cause of God. When any person appears, in any respect,
remarkably distinguished in religion from others ; if he
professes those spiritual comforts and joys toat are greater
than ordinary, or appears distinguishingly zealous in
religion ; if he exerts himself more than others in the
cause of religion, or seems to be distinguished with
success ; ten to one but it will immediately awaken
the jealousy of those about him. They will suspect
(whether they have cause or no) that he is very proud of
his goodness, and affects to have it thought that nobody
is so good as he ; and all his talk is heard, and all his
behaviour beheld, with this prejudice. Those who are
themselves cold and dead, and especially such as never
had any experience of the power of godliness on their
own hearts, are ready to entertain such thoughts of toe
best Christians ; which arises from a secret enmity against
vital and fervent piety. But zealous Christians should
take heed lest this prove a snare to them, and the devil
take advantage from it, to blind their eyes from beholding
what there is indeed of this nature in their hearts, and
make them think, because they are charged with pride
wrongfully and from an ill spirit, in many things, that
therefore it is so in every thing. Alas, how much pride
have the best of us in our hearts ! It is the worst part of
the body of sin and death ; the first sin that ever entered
into the universe, and the last that is rooted out : it is
God's most stubborn enemy !
The corruption of nature may all be resolved into two
things, pride and worldly-mindedness, the devil and the
beast, or self and the world. These are the two pillars of
Dagon's temple, on which the whole house leans. But the
former of these is every way the worst part of the cor
ruption of nature ; it is the first-born son of the devil, and
his image in toe heart of man chiefly consists in it. It is
the last thing in a sinner that is overborne by conviction, in
order to conversion ; and here is the saint's hardest con
flict ; the last thing over which he obtains a good degree of
conquest, that which most directly militates against God,
and is most contrary to toe Spirit ofthe Lamb of God. It
is most like the devil its father, in a serpentine deceitful
ness and secrecy ; it lies deepest, is most active, and is
most ready secretly to mix itself with every thing.
And, of all kinds of pride, spiritual pride is upon many
accounts the most hateful, it is most like the devil ; most
like the sin he committed in a heaven of light and glory,
where he was exalted high in divine knowledge, honour,
beauty, and happiness. Pride is much more difficult to be
discerned than any other corruption, because its nature
very much consists in a person's having too high a thought

of himself. No wonder that he who has too high a thought
of himself, does not know it ; for he necessarily thinks that
the opinion he has of himself has just grounds, and there
fore is not too high ; if he thought such an opinion of him
self was without just grounds, he would therein cease to
have it. Those that are spiritually proud, have a high con
ceit of these two things, viz. their light, and their humility ;
both which are a strong prejudice against a discovery of
their pride. Being proud of their light, that makes them
not jealous of themselves ; he who thinks a clear light
shines around him, is not suspicious of an enemy lurking
near him unseen ; and then, being proud of their humility,
that makes toem least of all jealous of themselves in that
particular, viz. as being under the prevalence of pride.
There are many sins of the heart that are very secret in
their nature, and difficultly discerned. The psalmist says,
Psal. xix. 12. " Who can understand his en-ors,? cleanse
thou me from secret faults." But spiritual pride is the
most secret of all sins. The heart is deceitful and un
searchable in nothing so much as in this matter; and
there is no sin in the world, that men are so confident in.
The very nature of it is to work self-confidence, and drive
away jealousy of any evil of that kind. There is no sin so
much like the devil as this for secrecy and subtlety, and
appearing in a great many shapes undiscerned and unsus
pected. It appears as an angel of light ; takes occasion to
arise from every thing ; it perverts and abuses every thing,
and even the exercises of real grace, and real humility, as
an occasion to exert itself : it is a sin that has, as it were,
many lives ; if you kill it, it will live still ; if you mortify
and suppress it in one shape, it rises in another ; if you
think it is all gone, yet it is there still. There are a great
many kinds of it, that lie in different forms and shapes,
one under another, and encompass the heart like toe coats
of an onion ; if you pull off one, there is another under
neath. We had need therefore to have the greatest watch
imaginable over our hearts with respect to this matter, and
to cry most earnestly to the great searcher of hearts for
his help. He that trusts his own heart is a fool.
God s own people should be the more jealous of them
selves with respect to this particular at this day, because
the temptations that many have to this sin are exceeding
great. The great and distinguishing privileges to which
God admits many of his saints, and the high honours he
puts on some ministers, are great trials of persons in this
respect. It is true, that great degrees of the spiritual
presence of God tends greatly to mortify pride and cor
ruption ; but yet, though in the experience of such favours
there be much to restrain pride one way, there is much to
tempt and provoke it another ; and we shall be in great
danger thereby, without great watchfulness and prayer-
fulness. The angels that fell, while in heaven had great
honours and high privileges, in beholding toe face of
God, and viewing his infinite glory, to cause in toem ex
ercises of humility, and to keep them from pride ; yet,
through want of watchfulness in them, their great honour
and heavenly privilege proved to be to them an undoing
temptation to pride, though they had no principle of pride
in their hearts to expose them. Let no saint therefore,
however eminent, and however near to God, think himself
out of danger. He toat thinks himself most out of danger,
is indeed most in danger. The apostle Paul, who doubt
less was as eminent a saint as any now, was not out of
danger, even just after he was admitted to see God in
toe third heavens, 2 Cor. xii. and yet doubtless, what he
saw in heaven of the ineffable glory of the Divine Being,
had a direct tendency to make him appear exceeding
little and vile in his own eyes.
Spiritual pride in its own nature is so secret, that it is
not so well discerned by immediate intuition on the thing
itself, as by the effects and fruits of it ; some of which I
would mention, together with the contrary fruits of pure
christian humility. Spiritual pride disposes to speak of
other persons' sins, their enmity against God and his
people, the miserable delusion of hypocrites, and their
enmity against vital piety, and the deadness of some
saints, wito bitterness, or with laughter and levity, and an
air of contempt ; whereas pure christian humility rather
disposes, either to be silent about them, or to speak of
them with grief and pity. Spiritual pride is very apt to

400

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

suspect others ; whereas an humble saint is most jealous of
himself, he is so suspicious of nothing in the world as he
is of his own heart. The spiritually proud person is apt to
find lault wito other saints, that they are low in grace ;
and to be much in observing how cold and dead they are ;
and being quick to discern and take notice of their de
ficiencies. But the eminently humble Christian has so
much to do at home, and sees so much evil in his own
heart, and is so concerned about it, that he is not apt to be
very busy with other hearts ; he complains most of him
self, and complains of his own coldness and lowness in
grace. He is apt to esteem others better than himself, and
is ready to hope that there is nobody but what has more
love and thankfulness to God than he, and cannot bear to
think that others should bring forth no more fruit to God's
honour than he. Some who have spiritual pride mixed
with high discoveries and great transports of joy, disposing
toem in an earnest manner to talk to others, are apt, in
such frames, to be calling upon other Christians about
them, and sharply reproving them for their being so cold
and lifeless. There are others, who in their raptures are
overwhelmed with a sense of their own vileness ; and,
when toey have extraordinary discoveries of God's glory,
are all taken up about their own sinfulness ; and though
they also are disposed to speak much and very earnestly,
yet it is very much in blaming themselves, and exhorting
fellow-Christians, but in a charitable and humble manner.
Pure christian humility disposes a person to take notice
of every thing toat is good in others, and to make the best
of it, and to diminish their failings ; but to gave his eye
chiefly on those things that are bad in himself, and to take
much notice of every thing that aggravates them.
In a contrariety to this, it has been the manner in some
places, or at least the manner of some persons, to speak of
almost every thing that they see amiss in others, in the
most harsh, severe, and terrible language. It is frequent
with them to say of others' opinions, or conduct, or advice
— or of their coldness, their silence, their caution, their
moderation, their prudence, &c. — that they are from the
devil, or from hell ; that such a thing is devilish, or hellish,
or cursed, and that such persons are serving the devil, or
the devil is in them, that they are soul-murderers, and the
like ; so that the words devil and hell are almost continu
ally in their mouths. And such kind of language they
will commonly use, not only towards wicked men, but
towards them whom they toemselves allow to be the true
children of God, and also towards ministers of the gospel
and others who are very much their superiors. And
they look upon it as a virtue and high attainment thus to
behave themselves. Oh, say they, we must be plain-
hearted and bold for Christ, we must declare war against
sin wherever we see it, we must not mince the matter in the
cause of God and when speaking for Christ. And to make
any distinction in persons, or to speak the more tenderly,
because that which is amiss is seen in a superior, they look
upon as very mean for a follower of Chnst when speak
ing in the cause of his Master. What a strange device of
the devil is here, to overthrow all christian meekness and
gentleness, and even all show and appearance of it, and
to defile the mouths of the children of God, and to intro
duce the language of common sailors among the followers
of Christ, under a cloak of high sanctity and zeal, and
boldness for Christ ! And it is a remarkable instance of
the weakness of the human mind, and how much too
cunning the devil is for us !
The grand defence of this way of talking is, That they
say no more than what is true ; they only speak the truth
without mincing the matter ; and that true Christians who
have a great sight of the evil of sin, and acquaintance wito
their own hearts, know it to be true, and therefore will not
be offended to hear such harsh expressions concerning
them and their sins. It is only (say they) hypocrites, or
cold and dead Christians, that are provoked and feel their
enmity rise on such an occasion. TBut it is a grand mis
take to think that we may commonly use all such language
as represents the worst of each other, according to strict
truth. It is really true, that every kind of sin, and every
degree of it, is devilish and from hell, and is cursed,
hellish, and condemned or damned. And if persons had
a full sight of their hearts, they would think no terms too

bad for them ; they would look like beasts, like serpents,
and like devils to toemselves ; they would be at a loss for
language to express what they see in toemselves. The
worst terms toey could think of would seem as it were
faint to represent what toey see in themselves. But
shall a child therefore, from time to time, use such lan
guage concerning an excellent and eminently holy father
or mother, as, That the devil is in them ; that they have
such and such devilish, cursed dispositions ; toat they
commit every day hundreds of hellish, damned acts ; and
that they are cursed dogs, hell-hounds, and devils ? And
shall the meanest of toe people be justified, in commonly
using such language concerning the most excellent magis
trates, or the most eminent ministers ? I hope nobody
has gone to this height. But the same pretences of bold
ness, plain-heartedness, and declared war against sin, will
as well justify these things as the others. If we proceed
in such a manner, on such principles as these, what a face
will be introduced upon toe church of Christ, the little
beloved flock of that gentle Shepherd the Lamb of God !
What a sound shall we bring into the house of God, into
the family of his dear little children ! How far off shall
we soon banish that lovely appearance of humility, sweet
ness, gentleness, mutual honour, benevolence, compla
cence, and an esteem of others above themselves, which
ought to clothe the children of God all over ! Not but that
Christians should watch over one another, and in any wise
reprove one another, and do it plainly and faithfully ; but
it does not thence follow that dear brethren in the family
of God, in rebuking one another, should use worse lan
guage than Michael toe archangel durst use when rebuk
ing the devil himself.
Christians who are but fellow-worms, ought at least to
treat one another with as much humility and gentleness as
Christ, who is infinitely above toem, treats them. But
how did Christ treat his disciples when they were so cold
towards him, and so regardless of him, at the time when
his soul was exceeding sorrowful even unto deato — and he
in a dismal agony was crying and sweating blood for
them — and they would not watch with him and allow him
the comfort of toeir company one hour in his great distress,
though he once and again desired it of them T One would
think that then was a proper time, if ever, to have reproved
them for a devilish, hellish, cursed, and damned slothful-
ness and deadness. But after what manner does Christ
reprove them ? Behold his astonishing gentleness ! Says
he, What, could ye not watch with me one hour ? The spirit
indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. And how did he
treat Peter when he was ashamed of his Master, while he
was made a mocking stock and a spitting stock for him ?
Why, he looked upon him with a look of love, and
melted his heart. And though we read that Christ once
turned, and said, unto Peter, on a certain occasion, Get
thee behind me, Satan ; and this may seem like an instance
of harshness and severity in reproving Peter ; yet I hum
bly conceive that this is by many taken wrong, and that
this is indeed no instance of Christ's severity in his treat
ment of Peter, but on the contrary, of his wonderful
gentleness and grace, distinguishing between Peter and
the devil in him, not laying the blame of what Peter had
then said, or imputing it to him, but to the devil that
influenced him. Christ saw the devil then present,
secretly influencing Peter to do the part of a tempter to
his Master; and therefore Christ turned him about to
Peter, in whom the devil then was, and spake to toe
devil, and rebuked him. Thus the grace of Christ does
not behold iniquity in his people, imputes not what is
amiss in them to them, but to sin that dwells in them, and
to Satan that influences them.
Spiritual pride often disposes persons to singularity in
external appearance, to affect a singular way of speaking,
to use a different sort of dialect from others, or to be
singular in voice, countenance, or behaviour. But he that
is an eminently humble Christian, though he will be firm
to his duty, however singular— going in the way toat leads
to heaven alone, though all the world forsake him— yet he
delights not in singularity for singularity's sake. He does
not affect to set up himself to be viewed and observed as
one distinguished, as desiring to be accounted better than
others — despising their company, or conformity to them —

Sect. I.

UNDISCERNED SPIRITUAL PRIDE.

401

but on the contrary is disposed to become all things to all
men, to yield to others, and conform to them and please
them, in every thing but sin. Spiritual pride commonly
occasions a certain stiffness and inflexibility in persons, in
toeir own judgment and their own ways ; whereas the
eminently humble person, though he be inflexible in his
duty, and in those things wherein God's honour is con
cerned ; and with regard to temptation to those things he
apprehends to be sinful, though in never so small a degree,
he is not at all of a yielding spirit, but is like a brazen
wall ; yet in other things he is of a pliable disposition,
not disposed to set up his own opinion, or his own will ;
he is ready to pay deference to others' opinions, loves to
comply wito their inclinations, and has a heart that is
tender and flexible, like a little child. Spiritual pride dis
poses persons to affect separation, to stand at a distance
from others, as being better than they ; and loves the show
and appearance of the distinction. But, on the contrary,
the eminently humble Christian is ready to look upon
himself as not worthy that others should be united to him
— to think himself more brutish than any man, and wor
thy to be cast out of human society — and especially un
worthy of the society of God's children. — And though he
will not be a companion with one that is visibly Christ's
enemy — but delights most in the company of lively
Christians, choosing such for his companions, and will be
most intimate with them, not delighting to spend much
time in the company of those who seem to relish no con
versation but about worldly things — -yet he does not love
: the appearance of an open separation from visible Chris
tians, as being a kind of distinct company from them who
are one visible company with him by Ghrist's appoint
ment ; and will as much as possible shun all appearances
of a superiority, or distinguishing himself as better than
others. His universal benevolence delights in toe appear
ance of union with his fellow-creatures, and will maintain
it as much as he possibly can without giving open coun
tenance to iniquity, or wounding his own soul. And here
in he follows the example of his meek and lowly Re
deemer, who did not keep up such a separation and
distance as the Pharisees, but freely ate wito publicans
and sinners, that he might win them.
The eminently humble Christian is as it were clothed
with lowliness, mildness, meekness, gentleness of spirit
and behaviour, and with a soft, sweet, condescending,
winning air and deportment ; these things are just like
garments to him, he is clothed all over wito them. 1 Pet.
v. 5. " And be clothed with humility." Col. iii. 12. " Put
on therefore, as toe elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels
of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness,
long-suffering." Pure christian humility has no such thing
as roughness, or contempt, or fierceness, or bitterness in its
nature ; it makes a person like a little child, harmless and
innocent, toat none need to be afraid of; or like a lamb,
destitute of all bitterness, wrath, anger, and clamour;
agreeable to Eph. iv. 31. With such a spirit as this ought
especially zealous ministers of the gospel to be clothed,
and those that God is pleased to employ as instruments in
his hands of promoting his work. They ought indeed to
be thorough in preaching the word of God, without
mincing the matter at all ; in handling the sword of the
Spirit, as the ministers of the Lord of hosts, they ought
not to be mild and gentle ; they are not to be gentle and
moderate in searching and awakening the conscience, but
should be sons of thunder. The word of God, which is
in itself sharper than any two-edged sword, ought not to
be sheathed by its ministers, but so used that its sharp
edges may have their full effect, even to the dividing
asunder soul and spirit, joints and marrow. Yet they
should do it without judging particular persons, leaving it
to conscience and the Spirit of God to make toe particu
lar application. But all their conversation should savour
of nothing but lowliness and good-will, love and pity to
all mankind ; so that such a spirit should be like a sweet
odour diffused around them wherever they go. They
should be like lions to guilty consciences, but like lambs
to men's persons. This would have no tendency to pre
vent the awakening of men's consciences, but on the con- ,
trary would have a very great tendency to awaken them.
It would make way for the sharp sword to enter ; it would
VOL. I. 2d

remove the obstacles, and make a naked breast for the
arrow. — Yea, toe amiable Christ-like conversation of such
ministers in itself, would terrify the consciences of men,
as well as their terrible preaching ; both would co-operate
to subdue the hard, and bring down the proud heart. If
there had been constantly and universally observable such
a behaviour as this in itinerant preachers, it would have
terrified the consciences of sinners ten times as much as
all the invectives and the censorious talk there has been
concerning particular persons, for their opposition, hypo
crisy, delusion, pharisaism, &c. These things in general
have rather stupified sinners' consciences ; they take them
up, and make use of them as a shield, wherewith to de
fend themselves from the sharp arrows of the word that
are shot by these preachers. The enemies of the present
work have been glad of these things with all their hearts.
— Many of the most bitter of them are probably such as
in the beginning of this work had their consciences some
thing galled and terrified with it ; but these en'ors of
awakening preachers are toe things they chiefly make use
of as plaisters to heal the sore that was made in their con
sciences. Spiritual pride takes great notice of opposition and in
juries that are received, and is apt to be often speaking of
them, and to be much in taking notice of their aggrava
tions, either with an air of bitterness or contempt. Where
as pure and unmixed christian humility, disposes a per
son rather to be like his blessed Lord, when reviled, dumb,
not opening his mouth, but committing himself in silence
to him toat judgeth righteously. The eminently humble
Christian, the more clamorous and furious the world is
against him, the more silent and still will he be ; unless
it be in his closet, and there he will not be still. — -Our
blessed Lord Jesus seems never to have been so silent as
when toe world compassed him round, reproaching, buf
feting, and spitting on him, with loud and virulent out
cries, and horrid cruelties. There has been a great deal
too much talk of late, among many of the true and zeal
ous friends of religion, about opposition and persecution.
It becomes the followers of the Lamb of God, when the
world is in an uproar about toem, and full of clamour
against them, not to raise another noise to answer it, but
to be still and quiet. It is not beautiful, at such time, to
have pulpits and conversation ring with the sound of per
secution, persecution, or wito abundant talk about Phari
sees, camal persecutors, and the seed of toe serpent. —
Meekness and quietness among God's people, when op
posed and reviled, would be the surest way to have God
remarkably to appear for their defence. It is particularly
observed of Moses, on occasion of Aaron and Miriam
envying him, and rising up in opposition against him,
that he " was very meek, above all men upon the face of
toe earth," Num. xii. 3. Doubtless because he remark
ably showed his meekness on that occasion, being wholly
silent under the abuse. And how remarkable, is the ac
count that follows of God's being as it were suddenly
roused to appear for his vindication ! What high honour
did he put upon JkToses / and how severe were his rebukes
of his opposers ! The story is very remarkable, and wor
thy every one's observation. Nothing is so effectual to
bring God down from heaven in the defence of his people,
as their patience and meekness under sufferings. When
Christ " girds his sword upon his thigh, with his glory
and majesty, and in his majesty rides prosperously, his
right hand "teaching him terrible things, it is because of
truth, and meekness, and righteousness," Psal. xiv.
3, 4. " God will cause judgment to be heard from
heaven ; the earth shall fear and be still, and God will
arise to judgment, to save all the meek of the earth," Psal.
lxxvi. 8, 9. "He will lift up toe meek, and cast the
wicked down to the ground," Psal. cxlvii. 6. " He will
reprove with equity for toe meek of the earth, and will
smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the
breath of his lips will he slay the wicked," Isa. xi. 4.
The great commendation that Christ gives the church of
Philadelphia is, " Thou hast kept the word of my patience,"
Rev. iii. 10. And we may see what reward he promises
her, in the preceding verse, " Behold, I will make them of
the svnagqgue of Satan, which say they are Jews and are
not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and

402

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV

worship at thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee."
And thus it is that we might expect to have Christ appear
for us, if under all the reproaches we are loaded with, we
behaved ourselves with a lamb-like meekness and gentle
ness. But if our spirits are raised, and we are vehement
and noisy with our complaints under colour of christian
zeal, this will be to take upon us our own defence, and
God will leave it wito us, to vindicate our cause as well as
we can; yea, if we go on in away of bitterness, and high
censuring, it will be the way to have him rebuke us, and
put us to shame before our enemies.
Here some may be ready to say, " It is not in our own
cause that we are thus vehement, but it is in the cause of
God, and the apostle directed the primitive Christians to
contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints."
But how was it that the primitive Christians contended
earnestly for the faith ? They defended the truth with ar
guments and a holy conversation, but yet gave their rea
sons with meekness and fear. They contended earnestly
for the faith, by fighting violently against their own unbe
lief, and the corruptions of their hearts : yea, they resisted
unto blood striving against sin ; but the blood that was
shed in this earnest strife, was their own blood, and not
the blood of their enemies. It was in the cause of God
that Peter was so fierce, and drew his sword, and began to
smite wito it; but Christ bids him put up his sword
again, telling him that they that take the sword shall perish
by the sword ; and, while Peter wounds, Christ heals. They
contend the most violently, and are the greatest conquer
ors in a time of persecution, who bear it with the greatest
meekness and patience. Great humility improves even the
reflections and reproaches of enemies, to put upon serious
self-examination, whether or no there be not some just
cause ; whether they have not in some respect given oc
casion to the enemy to speak reproachfully. Whereas
spiritual pride improves such reflections to make them the
more bold and confident, and to go the greater lengths in
that for which they are found fault with. I desire it may
be considered, whether there has been nothing amiss of
late among the true friends of vital piety in this respect ;
and whether the words of David, when reviled by Michal,
have not been misinterpreted and misapplied to justify
them in it, when he said, " I will be yet more vile, and
will be base in mine own sight." The import of his words
is, that he would humble himself yet more before God,
being sensible that he was far from being sufficiently
abased ; and he signifies this to Michal, that he longed to
be yet lower, and had designed already to abase himself
more in his behaviour. — Not that he would go the greater
length, to show his regardlessness of her revilings ; that
would be to exalt himself, and not to abase himself as more
vile in his own sight.
Another effect of spiritual pride is a certain unsuitable
and self-confident boldness before God and men. Thus
some, in their great rejoicings before God, have not paid a
sufficient regard to that rule in Psal. ii. 11. They have
not rejoiced with a reverential trembling, in a proper sense
of the awful majesty of God, and the awful distance be
tween him and them. And there has also been an im
proper boldness before men, that has been encouraged and
defended, by a misapplication of that scripture, Prov. xxix.
25. " The fear of man bringeth a snare." As though it
became all persons, high and low, men, women, and chil
dren, in all religious conversation, wholly to divest them
selves of all manner of shamefacedness, modesty, or reve
rence towards man ; which is a great error, and quite con
trary to Scripture. There is a fear of reverence that is due
to some men, Rom. xiii. 7. " Fear to whom fear, honour
to whom honour." And there is a fear of modesty and
shamefacedness in inferiors towards superiors, which is
amiable, and required by christian rules, 1 Pet. iii. 2.
" While they behold your chaste conversation coupled with
fear ;" and 1 Tim. ii. 9. " In like manner also, that women
adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness
and sobriety." The apostle means that this virtue shall
have place, not only in civil communication, but also in
spiritual communication, and in our religious concerns
and behaviour, as is evident by what follows, ver. 11, 12.
" Let the women learn in silence, with all subjection. But
I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over

the man, but to be in silence." Not that I would hence
infer that women's mouths should be shut up from chris
tian conversation ; but all that I mean from it at this time
is, that modesty, or shamefacedness, and reverence towards
men, ought to have some place, even in our religious
communication one with another. The same is also evi
dent by 1 Pet. iii. 15. " Be ready always to give an
answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope
that is in you, with meekness and fear." It is well if that
very fear and shamefacedness, which the apostle recom
mends, have not sometimes been condemned, under the
name of a cursed fear of man.
It is beautiful' for persons, when they are at prayer as
the mouth of others, to make God only their fear and their
dread, and to be wholly forgetful of men present, who, let
them be great or small, are nothing in the presence of the
great God. And it is beautiful for a minister, when he
speaks in the name of the Lord of hosts, to be bold, and
to put off all fear of men. And it is beautiful in private
Christians, though they are women and even children, to
be bold in professing the faith of Christ, in the practice of
all religion, and in owning God's hand in the work of his
power and grace, without any fear of men ; though they
should be reproached as fools and madmen, frowned upon
by great men, and cast off by parents and all the world.
But for private Christians, women and others, to instruct,
rebuke, and exhort, with a like sort of boldness as becomes
a minister when preaching, is not beautiful. Some have
been bold in things that have really been errors ; and have
gloried in their boldness in practising them, though odd and
irregular. And those who have gone the greatest lengths
in these things, have been by some most highly esteemed,
as appearing bold for the Lord Jesus Christ, and fully on-
his side ; while others who have professed to be godly, and
who have condemned such things, have been spoken of as
enemies of the cross of Christ, or at least very cold and
dead ; and thus many, that of themselves were not in
clined to such practices, have by this means been driven
on, being ashamed to be behind, and accounted poor sol
diers for Christ.
Another effect of spiritual pride is to make the subject
of it assuming. It oftentimes makes it natural to persons
so to act and speak, as though in a special manner it be
longed to them to be taken notice of and much regarded.
It is very natural to a person that is much under the influ
ence of spiritual pride, to take all the respect that is paid
him. If others show a disposition to submit to him, and
yield him the deference of a preceptor, he is open to it, and
freely admits it ; yea, it is natural for him to expect such
treatment, and to take much notice if he fails of it, and to
have an ill opinion of others that do not pay him that which
he looks upon as his prerogative. — He is apt to think that
it belongs to him to speak, and to clothe himself with a
judicial and dogmatical air in conversation, and to take it
upon him, as what belongs to him, to give forth his sen
tence, and to determine and decide. Whereas pure chris
tian humility vaunteth not itself, doth not behave itself un
seemly, and is apt to preftr others in honour. One under
the influence of spiritual pride is more apt to instruct
others, than to inquire for himself, and naturally puts on
the airs of a master. Whereas one that is full of pure hu
mility, naturally has on the air of a disciple; his voice is,
" What shall 1 do? What shall I do that I may live
more to God's honour? What shall I do with this wicked
heart ?" He is ready to receive instruction from any body,
agreeable to Jam. i. 19. " Wherefore, my beloved brethren,
let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak." The emi
nently humble Christian thinks he wants help from every
body, whereas he that is spiritually proud thinks that every
body wants his help. Christian humility, under a sense
of others' misery, entreats and beseeches ; but spiritual
pride affects to command and warn wito authority. There
ought to be the utmost watchfulness against all such ap
pearances of spiritual pride, in all that profess to have been
the subjects of this work, and especially in the promoters
of it, but above all in itinerant preachers. The most emi
nent gifts, and highest tokens of God's favour and blessing,
will not excuse them. — Alas ! what is man at his best
estate ! What is the most highly-favoured Christian, or
the most eminent and successful minister, that he should

Sect. I.

UNDISCERNED SPIRITUAL PRIDE.

-103

now think he is sufficient for something, and somebody to
be regarded ; and that he should go forth, and act among
his feilow-creatures as if he were wise, and strong, and
good !
Ministers who have been the principal instruments of
carrying on this glorious revival of religion, and whom
God has made use of to bring up his people as it were
out of Egypt, should take heed, that they do not provoke
God, as Moses did, by assuming too much to themselves,
and by their intemperate zeal to shut them out from see
ing the good things that God is going to do for his church
in this world. The fruits of Moses's unbelief, which pro
voked God to shut him out of Canaan, and not to suffer
him to partake of those great things God was about to do
for Israel, were chiefly these two things : — First, His
mingling bitterness with his zeal. He had a great zeal for
God, arid he could not bear to see the intolerable stiff-
neckedness of the people, that they did not acknowledge
the work of God, and were not convinced by all his won
ders that they had seen. But human passion was min
gled with his zeal, Psal. cvi. 32, 33. " They angered him
also at the waters of strife ; so that it went ill with Moses
for their sakes : because they provoked his spirit, so that
he spake unadvisedly with his lips." Hear now, ye re
bels, savs he, with bitterness of language. — Secondly, He
behaved himself, and spake, with an assuming air. He
assumed too much to himself; Hear now, ye rebels, must
we fetch water out of this rock? Spiritual pride wrought
in Moses at that time. His temptations to it were very
great ; for he had had great discoveries of God, and had
been privileged with intimate and sweet communion with
him, and God had made him the instrument of great good
to his church. But though he was so humble a person.
and, by God's own testimony, meek above all men upon
the face of the whole earth, yet his temptations were too
strong for him. Which surely should make our voung
ministers, that have of late been highly favoured, and
have had great success, exceeding careful, and distrustful
of themselves. Alas ! how far are we from having the
strength of holy, meek, aged Moses! The temptation at
this day is exceeding great to both those enors that Moses
was guilty of. There is great temptation to bitterness and
corrupt passion with zeal ; for there is so much unreason
able opposition made against this glorious work of God,
and so much stiff-neckedness manifested in multitudes of
this generation, notwithstanding all the great and wonder
ful works in which God has passed before them, that it
greatly tends to provoke the spirits of such as have the
interest of this work at heart, so as to move them to speak
unadvisedly with their lips. And there is also great
temptation to an assuming behaviour in some persons.
When a minister is greatly succeeded from time to time,
and so draws the eves of the multitude upon him, when
he sees himself followed, resorted to as an oracle — and
people ready to adore him, and as it were to offer sacrifice
to him, as it was with Paul and Barnabas at Lystra — it
is almost impossible for a man to avoid taking upon him
the airs of a master, or some extraordinary person ; a man
had need to have a great stock of humility, and much
divine assistance, to resist the temptation. But the greater
our dangers are, the more ought to be our watchfulness,
prayerfulness, and diffidence, lest we bring ourselves into
mischief. Fishermen who have been very successful,
having caught a great many fish, had need to be careful
that they do not at length begin to burn incense to their
net. And we should take warning bv Gideon, who after
God had highly favoured and exalted him, and made him
the instrument of working a wonderful deliverance for his
people, at length made a god of the spoils of his enemies,
which became a snare to him and to his house, so as to
prove the ruin of his family.
All voung ministers, in this day of bringing up the ark
of God, should take warning by the example of a young
Levite in Israel, Uzza the son of Abinadab. He seemed
to have a real concern for the ark of God, and to be zealous
and engaged in his mind on that joyful occasion of bring
ing it up. God made him an instrument to bring the ark
out of its long-continued obscurity in Kir'mth-jearim, and
he was succeeded to bring it a considerable way towards
mount Zkm ; but for his want of humility, reverence, and
2 d 2

circumspection, and assuming or taking too much upon
him, God broke forth upon him, and smote him for his
error, so that he never lived to see and partake of the great
joy of his church on occasion of the carrying up the ark
into mount Zion, and the great blessings of heaven upon
Israel consequent upon it. Ministers employed to carry
on this work, have been chiefly of the younger sort, who
have doubtless (as Uzza had) a real concern for the ark ;
and it is evident that they are much animated and en
gaged in their minds (as he was) in this joyful day of bring
ing up the ark. — They are afraid what will become of the
ark under the conduct of its ministers : they see it shakes,
and they are afraid these blundering oxen will throw it.
Some of them, it is to be feared, have been over-officious
on this occasion, have assumed too much to themselves,
and have been bold to put forth their hand to take hold of
the ark, ns though they were the only fit and worthy per
sons to defend it. If young ministers had great humility,
without a corrupt mixture, it would dispose them espe
cially to treat aged ministers with respect and reverence,
as their fathers, notwithstanding that a sovereign God may
have given themselves greater assistance and success, i
Pet. v. 5. " Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto
the elder; yea, all of you be subject one to another; and
be clothed with humility ; for God resisteth the proud,
and giveth grace to the humble." Lev. xix. 32. " Thou
shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face
of the old man, and fear thy God ; I am the Lord."
As spiritual pride disposes persons to assume much to
themselves, so it also disposes them to treat others with
neglect. On the contrary, pure christian humility dis
poses persons to honour all men, agreeable to that rule, 1
Pet. ii. 17. There has been in some, who I believe are
true friends of religion, too great appearance of this fruit
of spiritual pride, in their treatment of those whom they
looked upon to be carnal men ; and particularly in refus
ing to enter into any discourse or reasoning with them.
Indeed to spend a great deal of time in jangling and
warm debates about religion, is not the way to propagate,
but to hinder it ; and some are so dreadfully set against
this work, that it is a dismal task to dispute with them ;
all that one can say is utterly in vain. I have found it so
by experience. To enter into disputes about religion, at
some times, is quite unseasonable ; particularly in meet
ings for religious conference, or exercises of worship.
But yet we ought to be very careful that we do not refuse
to discourse with men, with any appearance of a super
cilious neglect, as though we counted them not worthy to
be regarded ; on the contrary, we should condescend to
carnal men, as Christ has condescended to us, to bear
with our unteachableness and stupidity- — He still follows
us with instructions, line upon line, and precept upon
precept, saying, Come, let us reason together : setting light
before us, and using all manner of arguments with us,
and waiting upon such dull scholars, as it were hoping
that we should receive light. We should be ready with
meekness and calmness, without hot disputing, to give
our reasons, why we think this work is the work of God,
to carnal men when they ask us, and not turn them by as
not worthy to be talked with ; as the apostle directed the
primitive Christians to be ready to give a reason of the
christian faith and hope to the enemies of Christianity, 1
Pet. iii. 15. " Be ready always to give an answer to every
man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,
with meekness and fear." And we ought not to condemn
all reasoning about things of religion under the name of
camal reason. For my part, 1 desire no better than that
those who oppose this work should fairly submit to have
the cause betwixt us tried by strict reasoning.
One qualification that the Scripture speaks of once and
¦again, as requisite in a minister, is, that he should be
(Siiasmiot) apt to teach, 1 Tim. iii. 2. And toe apostle
seems to explain what he means by it, in 2 Tim. ii. 24,
25. or at least there expresses one thing that he intends
by it, viz. That a minister should be ready, meekly to
condescend to and instruct opposers; "And the servant
of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle unto all men,
apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those toat
oppose toemselves, if God peradventure will give them
repentance, to the acknowledging of the truth.""

404

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

SECT. II.

Another cause of errors in conduct attending a religious
revival, is the adoption of wrong principles.
One erroneous principle, than which scarce any has
proved more mischievous to toe present glorious work of
God, is a notion that it is God's manner in these days, to
guide his saints, at least some that are more eminent, by
inspiration, or immediate revelation. They suppose he
makes known to toem what shall come to pass hereafter,
or what it is his will that they should do, by impressions
made upon their minds, either with or without texts of
Scripture ; whereby something is made known to them,
thatis not taught in the Scripture. By such a notion the
devil has a great door opened for him ; and if once this
opinion should come to be fully yielded to, and established
in toe church of God, Satan would have opportunity
thereby to set up himself as the guide and oracle of God _
people, and to have A is word regarded as their infallible
rale, and so to lead them where he would, and to intro
duce what he pleased, and soon to bring toe Bible into
neglect and contempt.  Late experience, in some in
stances, has shown that the tendency of this notion is to
cause persons to esteem toe Bible as in a great measure
useless. This error will defend and support errors. As long as
a person has a notion that he is guided by immediate di
rection from heaven, it makes him incorrigible and im
pregnable in all his misconduct. For what signifies it, for
poor blind worms of the dust, to go to argue with a man,
and endeavour to convince him and correct him, that is
guided by the immediate counsels and commands of toe
great JEHOVAH ? This great work of God has been
exceedingly hindered by this error ; and, till we have
quite taken this handle out of the devil's hands, the work
of God will never go on without great clogs and hin-
derances. — Satan will always have a vast advantage in his
hands against it, and as he has improved it hitherto, so he
will do still. And it is evident, that the devil knows the
vast advantage he has by it, that makes him exceeding
loth to let go nis hold.
It is strange what a disposition there is in many well-
disposed and religious persons to fall in with and hold
fast this notion. It is enough to astonish one, that such
multiplied, plain instances of the failing of such supposed
revelations in the event, do not open every one's eyes. I
have seen so many instances of the failing of such im
pressions, that would almost furnish a history. I have
been acquainted with toem when made under all kinds of
circumstances, and have seen them fail in the event, when
made wito such circumstances as have been fairest and
brightest, and most promising. They have been made
upon the minds of apparently eminent saints, and with an
excellent heavenly frame of spirit yet continued, and made
with texts of Scripture toat seemed exceeding apposite,
yea, many texts following one another, extraordinarily and
wonderfully brought to toe mind, and the impressions re
peated over and over ; and yet all has most manifestly
come to nothing, to the full conviction of toe persons
toemselves. God has in so many instances of late, in his
providence, covered such things with darkness, that one
would think it should be enough quite to blank the ex
pectations of those who have been ready to think highly
of such things. It seems to be a testimony of God, that
he has no design of reviving revelations in his church, and
a rebuke from him to the groundless expectations of it.
It seems to me that Zech. xiii. 5. is a prophecy con
cerning ministers of the gospel in the latter and glorious
day of the christian church (which is evidently spoken
of in this and the foregoing chapters). The words, I ap
prehend, are to be interpreted in a spiritual sense. I am
an husbandman : The work of ministers is very often, in
the New Testament, compared to the business of toe hus
bandmen, that take care of God's husbandry, to whom he
lets out his vineyard, and sends them forth to labour in
his field, where one plants and another waters, one sows
and another reaps ; so ministers are called labourers in
God's harvest. And as it is added, Men taught me to
keep cattle from my youth ; so trie work of a minster is

very often in Scripture represented by the business of a
shepherd or pastor. And whereas it is said, I am no
prophet ; but man taught me from my youth : it is as much
as to say, I do not pretend to have received my skill,
whereby I am fitted for the business of a pastor or shep
herd in the church of God, by immediate inspiration, but
by education, by being trained up to toe business by
human learning, and instructions received from my youth
or childhood, by ordinary means.
And why cannot we be contented with toe divine oracles,
that holy, pure word of God, which we have in such
abundance and clearness, now since the canon of Scripture
is completed ? Why should we desire to have any thing
added to them by impulses from above ? Why should we
not rest in that standing rale that God has given to his
church, which, the apostle teaches us, is surer than a voice
from heaven ? And why should we desire to make the
Scripture speak more to us than it does ? Or why should
any desire a higher kind of intercourse with heaven, than
by having the Holy Spirit given in his sanctifying in
fluences, infusing and exciting grace and holiness, love
and joy, which is the highest kind of intercourse that the
saints and angels in heaven have with God, and toe chief
excellency of toe glorified man Christ Jesus ?
Some that follow impulses and impressions indulge a
notion, that they do no otoer than follow the guidance of
God's word, because the impression is made with a text
of Scripture that comes to toeir mind. But they take that
text as it is impressed on their minds, and improve it as a
new revelation to all intents and purposes ; while the text,
as it is in the Bible, implies no such thing, and they them
selves do not suppose that any such revelation was con
tained in it before. Suppose, for instance, that text should
come into a person's mind with strong impression, Acts
ix. 6. "Arise, and go into the city ; and it shall be told
thee what thou must do ; " and he should interpret it as
an immediate signification of toe will of God, toat he
should now forthwith go to such a neighbouring town, and
there he should meet with a further discovery of his duty.
If such things as these are revealed by toe impression of
these words, it is to all intents a new revelation, not the
less because certain words of Scripture are made use of in
the case. Here, are propositions or truths entirely new,
that those words do not contain. These propositions,
That it is God's mind and will that such a person by
name should arise at such a time, and go to such a place,
and that there he should meet with discoveries, are entirely
new propositions, wholly different from toose contained in
that text of Scripture. They are no more implied in the
words toemselves, without a new revelation, toan it is
implied that he should arise and go to any other place, or
that any other person should arise and go to that place.
The propositions, supposed to be now revealed, are as
really different from those contained in that scripture, as
they are from the propositions contained in that text, Gen.
v. 6. "And Seth lived an hundred and five years, and
begat Enos." This is quite a different thing from the
Spirit's enlightening the mind to understand the words of
God, and know what is contained and revealed in them,
and what consequences may justly be drawn from them,
and to see how they are applicable to our case and cir
cumstances ; which is done without any new revelation,
only by enabling the mind to understand and apply a
revelation already made.
Those texts of Scripture, that speak of the children of
God as led by the Spirit, have been by some brought to
defend such impulses; particularly Rom. viii. 14. "For
as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the
sons of God:" And Gal. v. 18. "But if ye are led by
the Spirit, ye are not under the law." But these texts
themselves confute them that bring them ; for it is evident
that toe leading of the Spirit which the apostle speaks of
is peculiar to the children of God, and that natural men
cannot have ; for he speaks of it as a sure evidence of
their being the sons of God, and not under the law. But
a leading or directing of a person by immediately revealing
to him where he should go, or what shall hereafter come to
pass, or what shall be the future consequence of his doing
thus or thus, if there be any such thing in these days, is
not cf the nature of the gracious leading of the Spirit of

Sect. II.

THE ADOPTION OF WRONG PRINCIPLES.

405

God, peculiar to God's children. It is no more than a
common gift ; there is nothing in it but what natural men
are capable of, and many of them have had in the days of
inspiration. A man may have ten thousand such revela
tions and directions from the Spirit of God, and yet not
have a jot of grace in his heart. It is no more than the
gift of prophecy, which immediately reveals what will be,
or should be hereafter ; but this is only a common gift, as
the apostle expressly shows, 1 Cor. xiii. 2, 8. If a person
has any thing revealed to him from God, or is directed to
any thing by a voice from heaven, or a whisper, or words
immediately suggested to his mind, there is nothing of the
nature of grace merely in this : it is of the nature of a
common influence of the Spirit, and is but dross in com
parison of the excellency of that gracious leading of the
Spirit that the saints have. Such a way of being directed
where one shall go, and what he shall do, is no more than
what Balaam had from God, who from time to time reveal
ed to him what he should do ; so that he was in this sense
led by the Spirit for a considerable time. There is a more
excellent way in which the Spirit leads the sons of God,
that natural men cannot have ; and that is, by inclining
them to do the will of God, and go in the shining path of
truth and christian holiness, from a holy, heavenly disposi
tion, which the Spirit of God gives them, and which in
clines and leads them to those things that are excellent
and agreeable to God's mind, whereby they " are trans
formed by the renewing of their minds, and prove what is
that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God," Rom.
xii. 2. And so the Spirit of God does in a gracious man
ner teach the saints their duty ; and he teaches them in a
higher manner than ever Balaam, or Saul, or Judas, were
taught. The Spirit of God enlightens them with respect
to their duty, by making their eye single and pure, where
by the whole body is full of light. The sanctifying in
fluence of the Spirit of God rectifies the taste of the soul,
whereby it savours those things that are of God, and na
turally relishes and delights in those things that are holy
and agreeable to God's mind ; and, like one of a distin
guishing taste, it chooses those things that are good and
wholesome, and rejects those that are evil. The sanctified
ear tries words, and the sanctified heart tries actions, as
the mouth tastes meat. And thus the Spirit of God leads
and guides the meek in his way, agreeable to his promises ;
he enables them to understand the commands and coun
sels of his word, and rightly to apply them. Christ blames
the Pharisees that they had not this holy distinguishing
taste, to discern and distinguish what was right and wrong,
Luke xii. 57. " Yea, and why even of your own selves
judge ye not what is right?"
The leading of the Spirit which God gives his children,
and which is peculiar to them, is that teaching them his
statutes, and causing them to understand the way of his
precepts, which the psalmist so very often prays for, espe
cially in the 119th Psalm: and not in giving them new
statutes and new precepts. He graciously gives them eyes
to see, and ears to hear, and hearts to understand ; he
causes them to understand the fear of the Lord, and so
" brings tbe blind by a way they knew not, and leads them
in paths that they had not known, and makes darkness
light before them, and crooked things straight." So the
assistance of the Spirit in praying and preaching seems by
some to have been greatly misunderstood, and they have
sought after a miraculous assistance of inspiration, by the
immediate suggesting of words to them, by such gifts and
influences of the Spirit, in praying and teaching, as the
apostle speaks of, 1 Cor. xiv. 14, 26. (which many natural
men had in those days,) instead of a gracious holy assistance
of the Spirit of God, which is the far more excellent way ;
(as 1 Cor. xii. 31. and xiii. 1.) the gracious and most ex
cellent assistance of the Spirit of God in praying and
preaching, is not by immediately suggesting words to the
apprehension, which may be with a cold, dead heart; but
by warming the heart, and filling it with a great sense of
things to be spoken, and with holy affections, that these
may suggest words. Thus indeed the Spirit of God may
be said, indirectly and mediately, to suggest words to us,
to indite our petitions for us, and to teach the preacher
what to say ; he fills the heart, and that fills the mouth.
We know that when men are greatly affected in any

matter, and their hearts are very full, it fills them with
matter for speech, and makes them eloquent upon that
subject; and much more have spiritual affections this ten
dency, for many reasons that might be given. When a
person is in a holy and lively frame in secret prayer, or in
christian conversation, it will wonderfully supply him with
matter, and with expressions, as every true Christian
knows ; and it has the like tendency to enable a person in
public prayer and preaching. And, if he has these holy
influences of the Spirit on his heart in a high degree, no
thing in the world will have so great a tendency to make
both the matter and manner of his public performances ex
cellent and profitable. But, since there is no immediate
suggesting of words from the Spirit of God to be expected
or desired, they who neglect and despise study and pre
meditation, in order to a preparation for the pulpit, in such
an expectation, are guilty of presumption : though doubt
less it may be lawful for some persons, in some cases, (and
they may be called to it,) to preach with very little study ;
and the Spirit of God, by the heavenly frame of heart that
he gives them, may enable them to do it to excellent pur
pose. Besides this most excellent way of the Spirit of God
assisting ministers in public performances, which (con
sidered as the preacher's privilege) far excels inspiration,
there is a common assistance which natural men may have
in these days, and which the godly may have intermingled
with a gracious assistance, which is also very different from
inspiration, and that is, his assisting natural principles ; as
the natural apprehension, reason, memory, conscience, and
natural affection.
But, to return to the head of impressions and immediate
revelations ; many lay themselves open to a delusion by
expecting direction from heaven in this way, and waiting
for it. In such a case it is easy for persons to imagine that
they have it. They are perhaps at a loss concerning some
thing, undetermined what they shall do, or what course they
shall take in some affair ; and they pray to God to direct
them, and make known to them his mind and will : and
then, instead of expecting to be directed, by being assisted
in considering the rules of God's word, his providence,
and their circumstances, to look on things in a true light,
and justly to weigh them, they are waiting for some secret
immediate influence, unaccountably swaying their minds,
and turning their thoughts or inclinations that way in
which God would have them to go. Hereby they are ex
posed to two things ; first, they lay themselves open to the
devil, and give him a fair opportunity to lead them where
he pleases ; for thev stand ready to follow the first extra
ordinary impulse that they shall have, groundlessly con
cluding it is from God. And, secondly, they are greatly
exposed to be deceived by their own imaginations : for
such an expectation awakens and quickens the imagina
tion; and that oftentimes is called an uncommon impres
sion, that is no such thing ; and they ascribe that to the
agency of some invisible being, which is owing only to
themselves. Again, another way that many have been deceived, is
by drawing false conclusions from true premises. Manv
true and eminent saints have been led into mistakes and
snares, by arguing that they have prayed in faith. They
have indeed been greatly assisted in prayer for such a parti
cular mercy, and have had the true spirit of prayer in exer
cise in their asking it of God : but they have concluded
more from these premises than is a just consequence from
them. That they have thus prayed is a sure sign that
their prayer is accepted and heard, and that God will give
a gracious answer according to his own wisdom, and that
the particular thing asked shall be given, or that which is
equivalent; this is a just consequence from it. — But it is
not inferred by any new revelation now made, but by the
promises made to the prayer of faith in the Holy Scrip
tures. But that God will answer them in that individual
thing they ask, if it be not a thing promised in God's word,
or they do not certainly know that it is what will be most
for the good of God's church, and the advancement of
Christ's kingdom and glory, nor whether it will be best for
them, is more than can be justly concluded from it. If
God remarkably meets wito one of his children while he is
praying for a particular mercy of great importance, for him
self or some other person, or any society of men, and does

406

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

by the influences of his Spirit greatly humble him, and
empty him of himself in his prayer, and manifests himself
remarkably in his excellency, sovereignty, and all-sufficient
power and grace in Jesus' Christ— and in a remarkable
manner enables the person to come to him for that mercy,
poor in spirit, and with humble resignation to God, and
with a great degree of faith in the divine sufficiency, and
the sufficiency of Christ's mediation — that person has in
deed a great deal the more reason to hope that God will
grant that mercy, than otherwise he would have. The
greater probability is justly inferred, agreeable to the pro
mises of the Holy Scripture, in that such prayer is accepted
and heard ; and it is much more probable that a prayer
that is heard will be returned with a particular mercy that
is asked, than one that is not so. And there is no reason
at all to doubt, but that God sometimes especially enables
to the exercises of faith, when the minds of his saints are
engaged in thoughts of, and prayer for, some particular
blessing they greatly desire ; i. e. God is pleased especially
to give them a believing frame, a sense of his fulness, and
a spirit of humble dependence on him, at such times.
When they are thinking of and praying for such mercy, he
gives them a particular sense of his ability, and of toe suf
ficiency of his power to overcome obstacles, and the suffi
ciency of his mercy and of the blood of Christ for the re
moval of the guilt that is in the way of the bestowment of
such a mercy, in particular. When this is the case, it
makes the probability still much greater, that God intends
to bestow the particular mercy sought, in his own time,
and his own way. But here is nothing of the nature of a
revelation in the case, but only a drawing rational conclu
sions from the particular manner and circumstances of the
ordinary gracious influences of God's Spirit. And as God
is pleased sometimes to give his saints particular exercises
of faith in his sufficiency, with regard to particular mercies;
so he is sometimes pleased to make use of his word in
order to it, and helps the actings of faith with respect to
such a mercy. The strengthening of their faith in God's
sufficiency, in this case, is therefore a just improvement of
such scriptures ; it is no more than what those scriptures,
as they stand in the Bible, hold forth. But to take them
as new whispers or revelations from heaven, is not making
a just improvement of them. If persons have thus a spirit
of prayer remarkably given them, concerning particular
mercy, from time to time, so as evidently to be assisted to
act faith in God, in that particular, in a very distinguishing
manner; the argument in some cases may be very strong,
that God does design to grant that mercy, not from any
revelation now made of it, but from such a kind and man
ner of the ordinary influence of his Spirit with respect to
that thing.
But here a great deal of caution and circumspection
must be used in drawing inferences of this nature. There
are many ways by which persons may be misled and de
luded. The ground on which some expect that they shall
receive the thing they have asked for, is rather a strong
imagination, than any true humble faith in the divine suf
ficiency. They have a strong persuasion that the thing
asked shall be granted, (which they can give no reason for,)
without any remarkable discovery of that glory and fulness
of God and Christ, that is the ground of faith. And some
times the confidence that their prayers shall be answered,
is only a self-righteous confidence, and no true faith. They
have a high conceit of themselves as eminent saints, and
special favourites of God, and have also a high conceit
of the prayers they have made, because they were much
enlarged and affected in them ; and hence they are positive
in it, that the thing will come to pass. And sometimes,
when once they have conceived such a notion, they grow
stronger and stronger in it ; and this they think is from an
immediate divine hand upon their minds to strengthen
their confidence; whereas it is only by their dwelling in
their minds on their own excellency, and high experiences,
and great assistances, whereby they look brighter and
brighter in toeir own eyes. Hence it is found by observa
tion and experience, that nothing in the world exposes so
much to enthusiasm as spiritual pride and self-righteous
ness. In order to drawing a just inference from the supposed
assistance we have had in prayer for a particular mercy,

and judging of the probability of the bestowment of that
individual mercy, many things must be considered. We
must consider the importance of the mercy sought, and the
principle whence we so earnestly desire it ; how far it is
good, and agreeable to the mind and will of God ; the de
gree of love to God that we exercised in our prayer ; the
degree of discovery that is made of the divine sufficiency,
and the degree in which our assistance is manifestly dis
tinguishing with respect to that mercy. — And there is
nothing of greater importance in the argument than the de
gree of humility, poverty of spirit, self-emptiness, and re
signation to the holy will of God, exercised in seeking that
mercy. Praying for a particular mercy with much of these
things, I have often seen blessed with a remarkable bestow
ment of the particular thing asked for. From what has
been said, we may see which way God may, only by the
ordinary gracious influences of his Spirit, sometimes give
his saints special reason to hope for the bestowment of a
particular mercy they prayed for, and which we may sup
pose he oftentimes gives eminent saints, who have great
degrees of humility, and much communion with God.
And here, I humbly conceive, some eminent servants of
Jesus Christ that we read of in ecclesiastical story, have
been led into a mistake ; and, through want of distinguish
ing such things as these from immediate revelations, have
thought that God has favoured them, in some instances,
with the same kind of divine influences that the apostles
and prophets had of old.
Another erroneous principle that some have embraced,
and which has been a source of many errors in their con
duct, is, That persons ought always to do whatsoever the
Spirit of God (though but indirectly) inclines them to. In
deed the Spirit of God is in itself infinitely perfect, and all his
immediate actings, simply considered, are perfect, and there
can be nothing wrong in them ; and therefore all that the
Spirit of God inclines us to directly and immediately, with
out the intervention of any other cause that shall pervert
and misimprove what is from him, ought to be done. But
there may be many things, disposition to do which may in
directly be from the Spirit of God, that we ought not to
do. The disposition in general may be good, and from the
Spirit of God ; but the particular determination of that dis
position, as to particular actions, objects, and circumstances,
may be from the intervention or interposition of some in
firmity, blindness, inadvertence, deceit, or corruption of
ours. So that although the disposition in general ought to
be allowed and promoted, and all those actings of it that
are simply from God's Spirit, yet the particular ill direc
tion or determination of that disposition, which is from
some other cause, ought not to be followed.
As for instance, the Spirit of God may cause a person to
have a dear love to another, and so a great desire of and
delight in his comfort, ease, and pleasure. This disposition
in general is good, and ought to be followed; but yet
through the intervention of indiscretion, or some other bad
cause, it may be ill directed, and have a bad determina
tion, as to particular acts ; and the person indirectly,
through that real love he has to his neighbour, may kill
him with kindness; he may do that out of sincere good
will to him, which may tend to ruin him. — A good dispo
sition may, through some inadvertence or delusion, strong
ly incline a person to that which, if he saw all things as
they are, would be most contrary to that disposition. The
true loyalty of a general, and his zeal for the honour of his
prince, may exceedingly animate him in war; but this
good disposition, through indiscretion and mistake, may
push him forward to those things that give the enemy great
advantage, and may expose him and his army to ruin, and
may tend to the ruin of his master's interest.
The apostle does evidently suppose that the Spirit of
God, in his extraordinary, immediate, and miraculous in
fluences on men's minds, may in some respect excite in
clinations, which, if gratified, would tend to confusion, and
therefore must sometimes be restrained, and in their exer
cise must be under the government of discretion, 1 Cor.
xiv. 31 — 33. " For ye may all prophesy one by one, that
all may learn, and all may be comforted. And the spirits
ofthe prophets are subject to the prophets. For God is not
the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all the churches
of the saints." Here by the spirits of the prophi ts, ac-

Sect. II.

THE ADOPTION OF WRONG PRINCIPLES.

cording to the known phraseology of the apostle, is meant
the Spirit of God acting in the prophets, according to
those special gifts with which each one was endued : and
here it is plainly implied that the Spirit of God, thus
operating in them, may be an occasion of their having
¦ sometimes an inclination to do that, in the exercise of
those gifts, which it was not proper, decent, or profitable
that they should ; and that therefore the inclination, though
indirectly from the Spirit of God, should be restrained ;
and that" it ought to be subject to the discretion of the
prophets, as to the particular time and circumstances of
its exercise.
I make no doubt but toat it is possible for a minister to
have by the Spirit of God such a sense of the importance
of eternal things, and ofthe misery of mankind — so many
of whom are exposed to eternal destruction — together with
such a love to souls, that he might find in himself a dis
position to spend all his time, day and night, in warning,
exhorting, and calling upon men; and so that he must be
obliged as it were to do violence to himself ever to refrain,
so as to give himself any opportunity to eat, drink, or sleep.
And so I believe there may be a disposition, in like man
ner, indirectly excited in lay-persons, through the inter
vention of their infirmity, to do what only belongs to
ministers ; yea, to do those things that would not become
either ministers or people. Through the influence of the
Spirit of God, together with want of discretion, and some
remaining corruption, women and children might feel
themselves inclined to break forth aloud to great congre
gations, warning and exhorting the whole multitude ; and
to scream in the streets, or to leave their families, and go
from house to house, earnestly exhorting others ; but yet
it would by no means follow that it was their duty to do
these things, or that they would not have a tendency to do
ten times as much hurt as good.
Another wrong principle, from whence have arisen errors
in conduct, is, that whatsoever is found to be of present
and immediate benefit, may and ought to be practised,
without looking forward to future consequences. Some
persons seem to think that it sufficiently justifies any thing
they say or do, toat it is found to be for present edifica
tion ; it assists and promotes their present affection, and
therefore they think they should not concern themselves
about future consequences, but leave them wito God. In
deed in things that are in themselves our duty, being
required by moral rules, or absolute positive commands of
God, they must be done, and future consequences must
be left with God ; our discretion takes no place here :
but in other things we are to be governed by discretion, and
must not only look at the present good, but our view must
be extensive, and we must look at the consequences of
things. It is the duty of ministers especially to exercise
this discretion. In things wherein toey are not determined
by an absolute rule, and not enjoined them by a wisdom
superior to their own, Christ has left them to their own
discretion, with that general rule, that they should exercise
the utmost wisdom they can obtain, in pursuing that
which, upon the best view of the consequences of things,
will tend most to the advancement of his kingdom.
This is implied in those words of Christ to his disciples,
when he sent toem forth to preach the gospel, Matt. x. 16.
" Be ye wise as serpents."
The Scripture always represents the work of a gospel-
minister by those employments that especially require a wise
foresight of, and provision for, future events and conse
quences. So it is compared with the business of a steward,
which in an eminent manner requires forecast ; as, for
instance, a wise laying in of provision- for toe supply of
the needs of a family, according to its future necessities.
So it is compared to the husbandman, that almost wholly
consists in things done with a view to the future fruits and
consequences of his labour. The husbandman's discretion
' and forecast is eloquently set forth in Isa. xxviii. 24, 25,
26. " Doth the plowman plow all day to sow ? doth
he open and break the clods of his ground ? When he
hath made plain the face thereof, doth he not cast abroad
the fitches, and scatter the cummin, and cast in the prin
cipal wheat, and the appointed barley, and the rye in their
place ? For his God doth instruct him to discretion, and
' doth teach him." So the work of the ministry is compared

407
to that of a wise builder or architect, who has a compre
hensive view ; and for whom it is necessary, that, when
he begins a building, he should have at once a view of the
whole frame, and all the future parts of the structure, even to
the pinnacle, that all may be fitly framed together. So also
it is compared to the business of a trader or merchant, who
is to gain by trading ; a business that exceedingly requires
forecast, and without which it is never like to be" followed
with success for any long time. So it is represented by toe
business of a fisherman, which depends on peculiar skill ;
and to that of a soldier, which perhaps, above any other
secular business, requires great foresight, and a wise pro
vision for future events and consequences.
And particularly, ministers ought not to be careless how
much they discompose the minds of natural men, or how
great an uproar they raise in the carnal world, and so lay
blocks in the way of the propagation of religion. This
certainly is not to follow the example of the zealous
apostle Paul, who though he would not depart from his
duty to please carnal men, yet, wherein he might with
a good conscience, exceedingly laid out himself to
please them. He avoided raising in the multitude pre
judices, oppositions, and tumults against the gospel ; and
looked upon it as of great consequence. 1 Cor. x, 32, 33.
" Give none offence, neither to the Jews, nor to the Gen
tiles, nor to the church of God : even as I please all men
in all things, not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of
many, that they may be saved." Yea, he declares that he
laid himself out so much for this, toat he made himself a
kind of a servant to all sorts of men, conforming to their
customs and various humours in every thing wherein he
might, even in the things that were very burdensome to
him, that he might not fright men away from Christianity,
and cause them to stand as it were braced and armed
against it, but on the contrary, if possible, might with
condescension and friendship win and draw them to it ; 1
Cor. ix. 19 — 23. And agreeable hereto are the directions
he gives to others, both ministers and people : So he
directs the christian Romans, not to please themselves, but
every one please his neighbour, for his good, to edification,
Rom. xv. 1, 2, and to follow after the things that make for
peace, chap. xiv. 19. And he expresses it in terms ex
ceeding strong, Rom. xii. 18. " If it be possible, as much
as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men." And he
directs ministers to endeavour, if possible, to gain opposers
by a meek, condescending treatment, avoiding all appear
ance of strife or fierceness, 2 Tim. ii. 24 — 26. To the
like purpose, the same apostle directs Christians to walk
in wisdom towards them that are without, Eph. iv. 5. and
to avoid giving offence to others, if we can, " toat our
good may not be evil spoken of," Rom. xiv 16. So that
it is evident, the most zealous and most successful propa
gator of vital religion that ever was, looked upon it to be
of great consequence to endeavour, as much as possible,
by all toe methods of lawful meekness and gentleness, to
avoid raising the prejudice and opposition of the world
against religion. — When we have done our utmost, there
will be opposition enough to vital religion, against which
the carnal mind of man has such an enmity. We should
not therefore needlessly increase and raise that enmity.
The apostle, though he took so much pains to please men,
had persecution almost every where raised against him. A
fisherman is careful not needlessly to ruffle and disturb toe
water, lest he should drive the fish away from his net ; but
he will rather endeavour if possible to draw them into it.
Such a fisherman was the apostle, 2 Cor. xii. 15, 16.
" And I will very gladly spend and be spent for vou ;
though the more abundantly I love you, the less 1 be
loved. But be it so, I did not burden you, nevertheless,
being crafty, I caught you with guile."
The necessity of suffering persecution, in order to being
a true Christian, has undoubtedly by some been can-ied to
an extreme, and toe doctrine has been abused. It has
been looked upon as necessary to uphold a man's credit
amongst others as a Christian, that he should be perse
cuted. I have heard it made an objection against the
sincerity of particular persons, that they were no more
hated and reproached. And the manner of glorying in
persecution, or the cross of Christ, has in some been very
wrong, bearing too much the appearance of lifting up

408

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

themselves in it, that they were very much hated and re
viled, more than most, as an evidence of their excelling
others, in being good soldiers of Jesus Christ. Such an
improvement of the doctrine of the enmity between the
seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent, and of the
necessity of persecution, becoming credible and customary,
has a direct tendency to cause those that would be ac
counted true Christians, to behave themselves so towards
those that are not well-affected to religion, as to provoke
their hatred, or at least to be but little careful to avoid it,
and not very studiously and earnestly to strive (after the
apostle's example and precepts) to please them to their
edification, and by meekness and gentleness to win them,
and by all possible means to live peaceably with toem.
I believe toat saying of our Saviour, " I came not to
send peace on earth, but division," has been abused ; as
though when we see great strife arise about religion, violent
heats of spirit against the truly pious, and a loud clamour
and uproar against the work of God, it was to be rejoiced
in, because it is that which Christ came to send. It has
almost been laid down as a maxim by some, That the
more division and strife, the better sign ; which naturally
leads persons to seek and provoke it, or leads them to such
a manner of behaviour, such a roughness and sharpness,
or such an affected neglect, as has a natural tendency to
raise prejudice and opposition ; instead of striving as the
apostle did to his utmost, by all meekness, gentleness, and
benevolence of behaviour, to prevent or assuage it. —
Christ came to send a sword on earth, and to cause
division, no otherwise than he came to send damnation ;
for Christ, that is set for the glorious restoration of some,
is set for the fall of others, and to be a stone of stumbling
and rock of offence to them, and an occasion of their
vastly more aggravated and terrible rum. And this is
always the consequence of a great revival of vital religion ;
it is the means of the salvation of some, and the more
aggravated damnation of others. But certainly this is no
just argument that men's exposedness to damnation is not
to be lamented, or that we should not exert ourselves to
our utmost, in all the methods that we can devise, that
others might be saved, and to avoid all such behaviour
towards them as tends to lead them down to hell.
I know there is naturally a great enmity in the heart of
man against vital religion ; and I believe there would have
been a great deal of opposition against this glorious work
of God in New England, if the subjects and promoters
of it had behaved themselves never so agreeably to Chris
tian rules ; and I believe if this work goes on and spreads
much in the world, so as to begin to shake kingdoms and
nations, it will dreadfully stir up the rage of earth and
hell, and will put the world into the greatest uproar that
ever it was in since it stood. I believe Satan's dying
struggles will be the most violent ; but yet a great deal
might be done to restrain this opposition, by a good con
formity to that of the apostle, Jam. iii. 13. " Who is a
wise man, and endued with knowledge ? let him show out
of a good conversation his works with meekness of
wisdom." And I also believe that if toe rules of christian
charity, meekness, gentleness, and prudence had been duly
observed by the generality of the zealous promoters of this
work, it would have made three times toe progress that it
has ; i. e. if it had pleased God in such a case to give a
blessing to means in proportion as he has done.
Under this head of carelessness about future conse
quences, it may be proper to say something of introducing
tilings new and strange, and that have a tendency by their
novelty to shock and surprise people. Nothing can be
more evident from the New Testament, than that such
things ought to be done with great caution and moderation,
to avoid the offence that may be thereby given, and the
prejudices that might be raised, to clog and hinder the
progress of religion. Yea, it ought to be thus in things
that are in themselves good and excellent, and of great
weight, provided they are not things of absolute duty,
which though they may appear to be innovations, yet can
not be neglected without immorality or disobedience to the
commands of God. What great caution and moderation
did the apostles use in introducing things that were new,
and abolishing things that were old, in their day ! How
gradually were the ceremonial performances of the law of

Moses removed and abolished among the christian Jews !
and how long did even toe apostle Paul himself conform
to those ceremonies which he calls weak and beggarly ele
ments ! yea, even to the rite of circumcision, (Acts xvi. 3.)
that he might not prejudice the Jews against Christianity !
So it seems to have been very gradually that the Jewish
sabbath was abolished, and the christian sabbath intro
duced, for the same reason. And the apostles avoided
teaching Christians in those earlier days, at least for a
great while, some high and excellent divine truths, because
they could not bear them yet, 1 Cor. iii. 1, 2. Heb. v. 11,
to the end. Thus strictly did the apostles observe the rule
that their blessed Master gave them, of not putting new
wine into old bottles, lest thev should burst the bottles, and
lose the wine. And how did Christ himself, while on
earth, forbear so plainly to teach his disciples the great
doctrines of Christianity, concerning his satsifaction, and
the nature and manner of a sinner's justification and recon
ciliation wito God, and toe particular benefits of his death,
resurrection, and ascension ! because, in toat infant state
of the disciples, their minds were not prepared for such
instructions ; and therefore the more clear and full revela
tion of these things was reserved for the time when their
minds should be further enlightened and strengthened by
the outpouring of the Spirit after his ascension ; John xvi.
12, 13. " I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye
cannot bear them now. Howbeit, when he the Spirit of
truth is come, he will guide you into all truth.' And
Mark iv. 33. " And with many such parables spake he
the word unto them, as they were able to bear it." — These
things might be enough to convince any one, that does not
think himself wiser than Christ and his apostles, that great
prudence and caution should be used in introducing
things into the church of God, that are very uncommon,
though in themselves excellent, lest by our rashness and
imprudent haste we hinder religion much more than we
help it.
Persons influenced by indiscreet zeal are always in too
much haste ; they are impatient of delays, and therefore
are for jumping to the uppermost step first, before they
have taken the preceding steps ; whereby they expose
themselves to fall and break their bones. They are de
lighted to see the building rise, and all their endeavour and
strength is employed in advancing its height, without
taking care proportionably of the bottom ; whereby toe
whole is in danger of coming to the ground. Or they are
for putting on the cupola and pinnacle before the lower
parts of the building are done ; which tends at once to
put a stop to the building, and hinder its ever being a
complete structure. Many that are thus imprudent and
hasty wito their zeal, have a real eager appetite for that
which is good ; but like children, are impatient to wait for
the fruit, and therefore snatch it before it is ripe. Often
times in their haste they overshoot toeir mark, and frus
trate their own end ; they put that which toey would
obtain further out of reach than it was before, and establish
and confirm that which they would remove. Things must
have time to ripen. The prudent husbandman waits till
the harvest is ripe, before he reaps. We are now just
beginning to recover out of a dreadful disease ; but to feed
a man recovering from a fever with strong meat at once, is
the ready way to kill him. The reformation from popery
was much hindered by this hasty zeal. Many were for
immediately rectifying all disorders by force, which was
condemned by Luther, and was a great trouble to him.
See Sleiden's Hist, of the Reformation, p. 52, &c. and
book v. throughout. It is a vain prejudice that some
have lately imbibed against such rules of prudence and
moderation ; but they will be forced to come to them at
last ; they will find themselves unable to maintain their
cause without them ; and, if they will not hearken before,
experience will convince them at last, when it will be too
late for them to rectify their mistake.
Another error, arising from an erroneous principle, is a
wrong notion that they have an attestation of Divine Pro
vidence to persons, or things. We go too far, when we
look upon the success that God gives to some persons, in
making them the instruments of doing much good, as a
testimony of God's approbation of those persons and all
the courses they take. It has been a main argument to

Sect. II.

THE ADOPTION OF WRONG PRINCIPLES.

409

defend the_ conduct of some ministers, who have been
blamed as imprudent and irregular, that God has blessed
them, and given them great success ; and that however
men charge them as guilty of wrong things, yet that God
is with them, and then who can be against them ? And
probably some of toose ministers themselves, by this very
means, have had their ears stopt against all that has been
said to convince toem of their misconduct. But there are
innumerable ways by which persons may be misled, in
forming a judgment of the mind and will of God, from
the events of providence. If a person's success be a
reward of something in him that God approves, yet it is
no argument that he approves of every thing in him. Who
can tell how far the divine grace may go in greatly reward
ing some small good in a person, a good meaning, some
thing good in his disposition ; while he at the same time,
in sovereign mercy, hides his eyes from a great deal that is
bad, which it is his pleasure to forgive, and not to mark
against the person, though in itself it be very ill ? God has
not told us after what manner he will proceed in this
matter, and we go upon most uncertain grounds when we
undertake to determine. It is an exceeding difficult thing
to know how far love or hatred are exercised towards per
sons or actions by all that is before us. God was pleased
in his sovereignty to give such success to Jacob in that
which, from beginning to end, was a deceitful, lying con
trivance and proceeding of his. In that way he obtained
a blessing that was worth infinitely more than the fatness
of the earth and the dew of heaven, given to Esau in his
blessing ; yea, worth more than all toat the world can
afford. God was for a while with Judas, so that by God's
power accompanying him, he wrought miracles and cast
out devils ; but this could not justly be interpreted as
God's approbation of his person, or the thievery in which
he lived at the same time.
The dispensations and events of providence, with their
reasons, are too little understood by us, to be as our rule,
instead of God's word ; God has his way in the sea, and
his path in the mighty waters, and his footsteps are not
known, and he gives us no account of any of his matters.
And therefore we cannot safely take the events of his pro
vidence as a revelation of his mind concerning a person's
conduct and behaviour ; we have no warrant so to do.
God has never appointed toose things to be our rule. We
have but one rule to go by, and that is his holy word ; and
when we join any thing else wito it, as having the force
of a rule, we are guilty of that which is strictly forbidden,
Deut. iv. 2. Prov. xxx. 6. and Rev. xxii. 18. They who
make what toey imagine is pointed forth to them in pro
vidence, the rule of behaviour, do err, as well as those that
follow impulses and impressions. We should put nothing
in the room of the word of God. It is to be feared that
some have been greatly confirmed and imboldened, by the
great success that God has given them, in some things
that have really been contrary to toe rules of God's holy
word. If so, they have been guilty of presumption, and
abusing God's kindness to them, and the great honour he
has put upon them. They have seen toat God was with
them, and made them victorious in their preaching ; and
this, it is to be feared, has been abused by some to a
degree of self-confidence. This has much taken off all
jealousy of themselves ; they have been bold therefore to
go great lengths, in a presumption that God was with
toem, and would defend them, and finally baffle all that
found fault with them.
Indeed there is a voice of God in his providence, that
may be interpreted and well understood by the rule of his
word ; and providence may, to our dark minds and weak
faith, confirm the word of God, as it fulfils it. But to
improve divine providence thus, is quite a different thing
from making a rule of providence. Good use may be
made of the events of providence, of our own observation
and experience, and human histories, and the opinion of
eminent men ; but finally all must be brought to one rule,
viz. the word of God, and that must be regarded as our
only rule.
Nor do I think that they go upon sure ground, who con
clude they have not been in an error in their conduct,
because at the time of their doing a thing for which they
have been blamed and reproached by others, they were

favoured with special comforts of God's Spirit. God's
bestowing special mercies on a person, is no sign that he
approves of every thing he sees in him at that time.
David had the presence of God while he lived in poly
gamy ; and Solomon had some very high favours, and
peculiar smiles of Heaven, and particularly at the dedica
tion of toe temple, while he greatly multiplied wives to
himself, and horses, and silver, and "gold ; all contrary to
the most express command of God to the king, in the law
of Moses, Deut. xvii. 16, 17. We cannot tell how far
God may hide his eyes from beholding iniquity in Jacob,
and seeing perverseness in Israel. We cannot tell what are
the reasons of God's actions any further than he interprets
for himself. God sometimes gave some of the primitive
Christians the extraordinary influence of his Spirit when
toey were out of the way of their duty, and even while
they were abusing it ; as is plainly implied, 1 Cor. xiv.
31, 33. — Suppose a person has done a thing for which he
is reproached, and that reproach be an occasion of his
feeling sweet exercises of grace in his soul, I do not think
that a certain evidence that God approves ofthe thing he
is blamed for : for undoubtedly a mistake may be the
occasion of stirring up the exercise of grace. If a person,
through mistake, thinks he has received some particular
great mercy, that mistake may be the occasion of stirring
up the sweet exercises of love, and true thankfulness to
God. Suppose one that is full of love to God should
hear what he deems credible tidings, concerning a remark
able deliverance of a child or a dear friend, or of some
glorious thing done for the city of God, no wonder if, on
such an occasion, the sweet actings of love to God, and
delight in God, should be excited, though indeed after
wards it should prove a false report that he had heard. So,
if one that loves God is much maligned and reproached
for doing what he thinks God required and approves, no
wonder that it is sweet to such an one to think that God is
his friend, though men are his enemies ; no wonder at all,
that this is an occasion of his betaking himself to God as
his sure friend, and find sweet complacence in him ; though
he be indeed in a mistake concerning that which he
thought was agreeable to God's will. As I have before
shown toat toe exercise of a truly good affection may be
the occasion of error, and may indirectly incline a person
to do that which is wrong ; so, on the other hand, error, or
a doing toat which is wrong, may be an occasion of the
exercise of a truly good affection. The reason of it is this,
that however all exercises of grace be from the Spint of
God, yet he dwells and acts in the hearts of the saints, in
some measure, after the manner of a vital, natural princi
ple, a principle of new nature in them ; whose exercises
are excited by means, in some measure, as other natural
principles are. Though grace is not in the saints as a
mere natural principle, but as a sovereign agent, and so
its exercises are not tied to means, by an immutable law of
nature, as in mere natural principles ; yet God has so
constituted, that grace should dwell so in the hearts of the
saints, that its exercises should have some degree of con
nexion with means, after toe manner of a principle of
nature. Another erroneous principle that has been an occasion
of some mischief and confusion, is, That external order in
matters of religion, and use of the means of grace, is but
little to be regarded. It has been spoken lightly of,
under the names of ceremonies and dead forms, &c. and
is probably the more despised by some, because their op
posers insist so much upon it, and because they are so
continually hearing from them the cry of disorder and con
fusion.  It is objected against the importance of external
order, that God does not look at the outward form, he
looks at the heart. But that is a weak argument against
its importance, that true godliness does not consist in it ;
for it may be equally made use of against all the outward
means of grace whatsoever. True godliness does not con
sist in ink and paper, but yet that would be a foolish ob
jection against the importance of ink and paper in religion,
when without it we could not have the word of God. If
any external means at all are needful, any outward actions
of a public nature, or wherein God's people are jointly
concerned in public society, without doubt external order
is needful. The management of an external affair that is

410

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

public, or wherein a multitude is concerned, without
order, is in every thing found impossible. — Without order
there can be no general direction of a multitude to any
E articular designed end, their purposes will cross and
inder one another. A multitude cannot act in union one
with another without order ; confusion separates and di
vides them, so that there can be no concert or agreement.
If a multitude would help one another in any affair, they
must unite themselves one to another in a regular subor
dination of members, in some measure as it is in the
natural body ; by this means they will be in some capacity
to act with united strength. And thus Christ has ap
pointed that it should be m the visible church, as 1 Cor.
xii. 14, &c. and Rom. xii. 4 — 8. Zeal without order will
do but little, or at least it will be effectual but a little while.
Let a company, however zealous against the enemy, go
forth to war without any order, every one rushing forward
as his zeal shall drive him, all in confusion ; if they gain
something at first onset, by surprising the enemy, yet now
soon do they come to nothing, and fall an easy helpless
prey to toeir adversaries ! Order is one of the most neces
sary of all external means of the spiritual good of God's
church ; and therefore it is requisite even in heaven itself,
where there is the least need of any external means of
grace. Order is maintained amongst the glorious angels
there. And toe necessity of it for carrying on any design,
wherein a multitude are concerned, is so great that even
the devils in hell are driven to something of it, that they
may carry on toe designs of their kingdom. And it is very-
observable, that those irrational creatures for whom it is
needful that they should act in union, and join as a multi
tude together to carry on any work for their preservation —
by a wonderful instinct that God has put into them — ob
serve and maintain a most regular and exact order among
toemselves ; such as bees and some others. And order in
the visible church is not only necessary for carrying on the
designs of Christ's glory and the church's prosperity, but it
is absolutely necessary to its defence ; without it, it is like
a city without walls, and can be in no capacity to defend
itself from any kind of mischief. And so, however it be
an external thing, yet is not to be despised on that ac
count ; for though it be not the food of souls, yet it is in
some respect their defence. The people of Holland would
be very foolish to despise the dikes that keep ovit the sea
from overwhelming them, under the names of dead stones
and vile earth, because the matter of which they are built
is not good to eat. It seems to be partly on this founda
tion that some have seemed to act on that principle, That
the power of judging and openly censuring others should
not be reserved in the hands of particular persons, or con
sistories appointed thereto, but ought to be left at large, for
any body that pleases to take it upon them, or that think
themselves fit for it. But more of this afterwards.
On this foundation also, an orderly attending on the
stated worship of God in families, has been made too light
of; and it has been in some places too much a common
and customary thing to be absent from family-worship,
and to be abroad late in the night at religious meetings, or
to attend religious conversation. Not but that this may
be done on certain extraordinary occasions ; I have seen
the case to be such in many instances, toat I have thought
did afford sufficient warrant for persons to be absent from
family-prayer, and to be from home till very late in the
night. But we should take heed that it do not become a
custom or common practice ; if so, we shall soon find toe
consequences to be very ill. It seems to be on the same
foundation — the supposed unprofitableness of external
order — that it has been thought by some, there is no need
of religious services and performances being limited to
any certain office in the church; (of which more after
wards ; and also, that those officers toemselves, particu
larly that of the gospel-ministry, need not be limited, as it
used to be, to persons of a liberal education ; but some of
late have been for having others, whom they have sup
posed to be persons of eminent experience, publicly
licensed to preach, yea and ordained to the work of the
ministry ; and some ministers have seemed to favour such
a thing. But how little do they seem to look forward, and
consider the unavoidable consequences of opening such a
door ! If once it should become a custom, or a thing

generally approved and allowed of, to admit uneducated
persons to the work of toe ministry, because of toeir re
markable experiences, and good understanding, how many
lay-persons would soon appear as candidates for toe work
ofthe ministry; I doubt not but that I have been ac
quainted with scores that would have desired it. And
how shall we know where to stop ? If one is admitted be
cause his experiences are remarkable, another will think
his experiences also remarkable; and we perhaps shall
not be able to deny but that they are nearly as great. If one
is admitted because, besides experiences, he has good
natural abilities, another by himself, and many of his
neighbours, may be thought equal to him. It will be
found of absolute necessity toat there should be some cer
tain, visible limits fixed, to avoid bringing odium upon
ourselves, and breeding uneasiness and strife amongst
others ; and I know of none better, and indeed no other
that can well be fixed, than what the prophet ZecJtariah
fixes, viz. That those only should be appointed to be
pastors or shepherds in God's church, that " have been
taught to keep cattle from their youth," or that have had
an education for that purpose. Those ministers who would
break over these limits, and make a practice of it, would
break down that fence which they themselves, after toey
have been wearied with the ill consequences, would be
glad to have somebody else build up for them. Not but
that there may probably be some persons in the land, who
have had no education at college, that are in themselves
better qualified for the work of the ministry, than some
others who have taken their degrees, and are now ordained.
But yet I believe the breaking over those bounds which
have hitherto been set, in ordaining such persons, would
in its consequences be a greater calamity than the missing
such persons in the work of toe ministry. Opening a door
for the admission of unlearned men to the work of the
ministry, though they should be persons of extraordinary
experience, would on some accounts be especially preju
dicial at such a day as this ; because such persons, for
want of extensive knowledge, are oftentimes forward to
lead others into those things which a people are in danger
of at such a time, above all others ; viz. impulses, vain
imaginations, superstition, indiscreet zeal, and such like
extremes. Another erroneous principle that some have been, at
least, in danger of, is, toat ministers, because toey speak
as Christ's ambassadors, may assume the same style, and
speak as with the same authority, that the prophets of old
did, yea that Jesus Christ himself did in the 23d of
Matthew, " Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers," &c. ;
and that not only when they are speaking to the people,
but also to toeir brethren in toe ministry. The principle
is absurd, because it makes no difference in the degrees
and orders of messengers, though God has made a very
great difference ; for though toey all come in some respect
in toe name of God, and with something of his authority,
yet certainly there is a vast difference in the degree of au
thority with which God has invested them. Jesus Christ
was sent into the world as God's messenger, and so was
one of his apostles; and so also is an ordinary pastor
of a church : but yet it does not follow, that because Jesus
Christ and an ordinary minister are both messengers of
God, that therefore an ordinary minister, in his office, is
vested with an equal degree of authority that Christ was
in his. As there is a great difference in their authority,
and as Christ came as God's messenger in a vastly higher
manner, so another style became him, more authoritative
than is prober for us worms of the dust, though we also
are messengers of inferior degree. It would be strange if
God, when he has made so great a difference in the degree
in which he has invested different messengers with his au
thority, should make no difference as to theoutward appear
ance and show of authority. Though God has put great
honour upon ministers, and they may speak as his am
bassadors, yet he never intended that they should have the
same outward appearance of authority and majesty, either
in their behaviour or speech, as his Son shall have, when
he comes to judgment at the last day ; though both come
in the name of the Lord. Alas ! can it enter into the
hearts of worms of the dust, that it is fit and suitable it
should be so ?

Sect. III.

IGNORANCE OF INWARD EXPERIENCES.

411

SECT. III.
A third cause of errors in conduct, is, being ignorant or
unobservant of some things, by which the devil has special
advantage.And here I would particularly notice some things with
respect to the inward experiences of Christians themselves.
And something with regard to the external effects of ex
periences. I. Inward experiences. There are three things I would
notice with regard to the experiences of Christians, by which
the devil has many advantages against us.
1. The first thing is the mixture there oftentimes is in
the experiences of true Christians ; whereby when they
have truly gracious experiences, and divine and spiritual
discoveries and exercises, they have something else mixed
with them, besides what is spiritual. There is a mixture
of that which is natural, and that which is corrupt, with
that which is divine. The great imperfection of grace, the
feebleness and infancy of the new nature, and the great
remains of corruption, together with our circumstances in
this world, where we are encompassed with what tends to
pollute us, expose to this. And indeed it is not to be
supposed that Christians ever have any experiences in this
world that are wholly pure, entirely spiritual, without any
mixture of what is natural and carnal. The beam of light,
as it comes from the fountain of light upon our hearts, is
pure ; but, as it is reflected thence, it is mixt. The seed
as sent from heaven, and planted in the heart, is pure ;
but, as it springs up out of the heart, is impure : yea,
there is commonly a much greater mixture than per
sons for the most part seem to imagine. I have often
thought that the experiences of true Christians are very
frequently as it is with some sorts of fruits, which are en
veloped in several coverings of thick shells or pods, that
are thrown away by him that gathers the fruit, and but a
very small part ofthe whole bulk is the pure kernel that is
good to eat.
The things, of all which there is frequently some mix
ture with gracious experiences, yea with very great and
high experiences, are these three ; human or natural af
fection and passions ; impressions on the imagination ; and
a degree of self- righteousness or spiritual pride. There is
very often with that which is spiritual a great mixture of
that affection or passion which arises from natural princi
ples ; so that nature has a very great hand in those vehe
ment motions and flights of the passions that appear.
Hence toe same degrees of divine communications from
heaven shall have vastly different effects, in what out
wardly appears, in persons of different natural tempers.
The great mixture of that which is natural with that which
is spiritual, is very manifest in the peculiar effects that di
vine influences have in some certain families, or persons of
such a blood, in distinguishing the operations ofthe passions
and affections, and the manner of their outward expressions.
I know some remarkable instances of this. The same is
also evident by the different effects of divine communica
tions on the same person at different times, and in different
circumstances. The novelty of things, or the sudden tran
sition from an opposite extreme, and many other things that
might be mentioned, greatly contribute to the raising of the
passions. And sometimes there is not only a mixture of
that which is common and natural with gracious experi
ence, but even that which is animal, what is in a great
measure from the body, and is properly the result of the
animal frame. In what true Christians feel of affections
towards God, all is not always purely holy and divine ;
every thing that is felt in the affections does not arise -from
spiritual principles, but common and natural principles
have a very great hand ; an improper self-love may have a
great share in the effect : God is not loved for his own sake,
or for the excellency and beauty of his own perfections, as
he ought to be ; nor have these things in any wise that
proportion in the effect that they ought to have. So, in the
love true Christians have one to another, very often there is
a great mixture of what arises from common and natural
principles, with grace. Self-love has a great hand; the
children of God are not loved purely for Christ's sake, but
there may be a great mixture of that natural love which

many sects of heretics have boasted of, who have been
greatly united one to another, because they were of their
company, on their side, against the rest of the world ; yea,
there may be a mixture of natural love to the opposite sex,
with christian and divine love. So there may be a great
mixture in that sorrow for sin which the godly have, and
also in their joys ; natural principles may greatly contribute
to what is felt, a great many ways, as might easily be shown.
There is nothing that belongs to christian experience more
liable to a corrupt mixture than zeal. Though it be an ex
cellent virtue, a heavenly flame, when it is pure ; yet as it
is exercised in those who are so little sanctified, and so
little humbled, as we are in the present state, it is very
apt to be mixed with human passion, yea with corrupt,
hateful affections, pride and uncharitable bitterness, and
other things that are not from heaven, but from hell.
Another thing often mixed with what is spiritual in the
experiences of Christians, is an impression on the imagina
tion ; whereby godly persons, together with a spiritual
understanding of divine things, and conviction of their
reality and certainty, and a deep sense of their excellency
or great importance upon their hearts, have strongly im
pressed on their minds external ideas or images of things.
A degree of imagination in such a case, is unavoidable, and
necessarily arises from human nature, as constituted in the
present state; and often is of great benefit ; but, when it is
in too great a degree, it becomes an impure mixture that
is prejudicial. This mixture very often arises from the
constitution ofthe body. It commonly greatly contributes
to the other kind of mixture mentioned before, viz. of
natural affections and passions ; it helps to raise them to a
great height. ,
Another thing that is often mixed with the experiences
of true Christians, which is the worst mixture of all, is a
degree of self-righteousness or spiritual pride. This is often
mixed with the joys of Christians. Their joy is not purely
the joy of faith, or a rejoicing in Christ Jesus, but is partly
a rejoicing in themselves. There is oftentimes in their
elevations a looking upon themselves, and a viewing their
own high attainments ; they rejoice partly because they
are taken with their own experiences and great discoveries,
which makes them in their own apprehensions so to ex
cel ; and this heightens all their passions, and especially
those effects that are more external. There is a much
greater mixture of these things in the experiences of some
Christians than others ; in some the mixture is so great, as
very much to obscure and hide the beauty of grace in them,
like a thick smoke that hinders all the shining of the fire.
These things we ought to be well aware of, that we may
not take all for gold that glisters, and that we may know
what to countenance and encourage, and what to discou
rage ; otherwise Satan will have a vast advantage against
us, for he works in the corrupt mixture. Sometimes, for
want of persons distinguishing the ore from the pure
metal, those experiences are most admired by the persons
themselves and by others, that are not the most excellent.
The great external effects, and vehemence of the passions,
and violent agitations of the animal spirits, is sometimes
much owing to the corrupt mixture, (as is very apparent in
some instances,) though it be not always so. I have ob
served a great difference among those of high affections,
who seem disposed to be earnestly talking to those about
them. Some insist much more, in their talk, on what
they behold in God and Christ, the glory of the divine
perfections, Christ's beauty and excellency, and wonderful
condescension and grace, and their own unworthiness,
and the great and infinite obligations that they themselves
and others are under to love and serve God ; others insist
almost wholly on their own high privileges, their assur
ance of God's love and favour, and the weakness and
wickedness of opposers, and how much they are above
their reach. The latter may have much ofthe presence of
God, but their experiences do not appear to be so solid
and unmixed as the former. And there is a great deal of
difference in persons' earnestness in their talk and beha
viour. In some it seems to come from the fulness of
their hearts, and from the great sense they have of truth.
They have a deep sense of the certainty and infinite great
ness, excellency, and importance of divine and eternal
things, attended with all appearances of great humility.

412

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

In others their earnestness seems to arise from a great
mixture of human passion, and an undue and intem
perate agitation of the spirits, which appears by their ear
nestness and vehemence not being proportioned to the
nat'ire ofthe subject they insist on, but they are violent
in every thing they say, as much when they are talking of
things of smaller importance, as when speaking of things
of greater weight. I have seen it thus in an instance or
two, in which this vehemence at length issued in distrac
tion. And there have been some few instances of a more
extraordinary nature still, even of persons finding them
selves disposed earnestly to talk and cry out, from an un
accountable kind of bodily pressure, without any extraor
dinary view of any thing in toeir minds, or sense of any
thing upon their hearts ; wherein probably there was the
immediate hand ofthe devil.
2. Another thing, by which the devil has great advan
tage, is the unheeded defects there sometimes are in the
experiences of true Christians, connected with those high
affections wherein there is much that is truly good. I do
not mean that defect or imperfection of degree which is in
every holy disposition and exercise in this life, in the best
of the saints ; but I aim at experiences being especially
defective in some particular thing that ought to be in
them ; which, though it be not an essential defect, or such
as is in the experiences of hypocrites, which renders them
utterly vain, monstrous, and altogether abominable to
God, is such as maims and deforms the experience. The
essence of truly christian experiences is not wanting, but
that is wanting which is very needful in order to the pro
per beauty of the image of Christ in such a person's ex
periences. Things are very much out of a due propor
tion ; there is indeed much of some things, but at the
same time there is so little of some other things that
should bear a proportion, that the defect very much de
forms the Christian, and is truly odious in the sight of
God. What I observed before was something too much,
something mixed, not belonging to the Christian as such ;
what I speak of now is something not enough, something
wanting that does belong to the Christian as such. The
one deforms the Christian as a monstrous excrescence ; by
the other the new creature is maimed, some member in a
great measure is wanting, or so small and withering as to
be very much out of due proportion. This is another
spiritual calamity that the saints are liable to through the
great imperfection of grace in this life. Thus the chicken
in the egg, in the beginning of its formation, has indeed
the rudiments or lineaments of all the parts ; yet some
few parts only are plainly seen, when others are hid, so
that without a microscope it appears very monstrous.
AVhen this deficiency and disproportion is great, as some
times it is in real saints, it is not only a great deformity in
itself, but has many ill consequences ; it gives the devil
great advantage, leaves a door open for corruption, exposes
to very deformed and unlovely actions, and issues often
times in the great wounding ofthe soul.
For the belter understanding of this matter, we may ob
serve, that God, in the revelation that he has made of
himself to the world by Jesus Christ, has taken care to
give a proportionable manifestation of two kinds of excel
lencies or perfections of his nature, viz. those that espe
cially tend to possess us with awe and reverence, and to
search and humble us ; and those that tend to win, to
draw, and encourage us. By the one, he appears as an in-
finitelv great, pure, holy, and heart-searching judge ; by
the other, as a gentle and gracious father and a loving
friend. By the one, he is a pure, searching, and burning
flame ; by the other, a sweet, refreshing light. These two
kinds of attributes are as it were admirably tempered to
gether in the revelation of the gospel. There is a propor
tionable manifestation of justice and mercy, holiness and
grace, majesty and gentleness, authority and condescen
sion. God hath thus ordered that his diverse excellen
cies, as he reveals himself in the face of Jesus Christ,
should have a proportionable manifestation, herein provid
ing for our necessities. He knew it to be of great conse
quence that our apprehensions of these diverse perfec
tions of his nature should be duly proportioned one to
another. A defect on the one hand, viz. having a disco
very of his love and grace, without a proportionable dis

covery of his awful majesty, his holy and searching
purity, would tend to spiritual pride, camal confidence,
and presumption ; and a defect on the other hand, viz.
having a discovery of his holy majesty, without a propor
tionable discovery of his grace, tends to unbelief, a sinful
fearfulness and spirit of bondage. And therefore herein
chiefly consists that deficiency of experiences that I am
now speaking of. The revelation God has made of him
self in his word, and the provision made for our spiritual
welfare in the gospel, are perfect ; but the actual light and
communications we have, are many ways exceeding im
perfect and maimed. And experience plainly shows, that
Christians may have high manifestations in some respects,
and yet their circumstances may be unhappy in this re
gard, that their discoveries are no more general. There is
a great difference among Christians in this respect ; some
have much more general discoveries than others, who are
upon many accounts the most amiable Christians. Chris
tians may have experiences that are very high, and yet
there may be very much of this deficiency and dispropor
tion. Their high experiences are truly from the Spirit of
God, but sin comes in by the defect, (as indeed all sin is
originally from a defective, privative cause,) and in such a
case high discoveries, at the same time that they are en
joyed, may be and sometimes are the occasion, or causa
sine qua non, of sin. Sin may come in at the back door,
the gap that is left open ; as spiritual pride often does.
And many times the Spirit of God is quenched by this
means, and God punishes the pride and presumption that
rises, by bringing such darkness, and suffering such awful
consequences and horrid temptations, as are enough to
make one's hair stand on end to hear them. — Christians
therefore should diligently observe their own hearts as to
this matter, and should pray to God that he would give
them experiences in which one thing may bear a propor
tion to another, that God may be honoured and their
souls edified thereby ; and ministers should have an eve to
this, in their private dealings with the souls of their people.
It is chiefly from such a defect of experiences that some
things have arisen which have been pretty common among
true Christians of late, though supposed by many to have
risen from a good cause ; as particularly, talking of divine
and heavenly things, and expressing divine joys, with
laughter or light behaviour. I believe in many instances
such things have arisen from a good cause, as their causa
sine qua non. High discoveries and gracious joyful af
fections have been the occasion of them ; but the proper
cause has been sin, even that odious defect in their ex
perience, whereby there has been wanting a sense of the
awful and holy majesty of God as present with them, and
their nothingness and vileness before him, proportionable to
the sense they have had of God's grace and the love of Christ.
And the same is true in many cases of unsuitable boldness ;
a disposition to speak with authority, intemperate zeal, and
many other things that sometimes appear under great reli
gious affections. And sometimes the vehemence of the
motion of the animal spirits, under great affections, is
owing in considerable measure to experiences being thus
partial. I have known it in several instances, that persons
have been greatly affected with the dying love of Christ,
and the consideration of the happiness of the enjoyment
of him in heaven, and other things of that nature, and
their animal spirits at the same time have been in great
emotion ; but in the midst of it they have had such a deep
sense of the awful, holy majesty of God, as at once com
posed them, and quieted animal nature, without diminish
ing their comfort, but only has made it of a better and more
solid nature. When they have had a sense both of the
majSsty and grace of God, one thing has as it were balanced
another, and caused a more happy sedateness and com
posure of body and mind.
From these things we may learn how to judge of expe
riences, and to estimate their goodness. Those are not
always the best which are attended with the most violent
affections, and most vehement motions of the animal spi
rits, or have the greatest effects on the body. Nor are they
always the best, that most dispose persons to abound in
talk to others, and to speak in the most vehement manner,
though these things often arise from the greatness of spiritual
experiences. But those are the most excellent experiences

Sect. III.

IGNORANCE OF INWARD EXPERIENCES.

413

that are qualified as follows : 1. That have the least mix
ture, or are the most purely spiritual. 2. That are the least
deficient and partial, in which the diverse things that ap
pertain to christian experience are proportionable one to
another. And, 3. That are raised to the highest degree. It
is no matter how high they are raised if they are qualified
as before mentioned, the higher the better. Experiences,
thus qualified, will be attended with the most amiable be
haviour, will bring forth the most solid and sweet fruits,
will be the most durable, and will have the greatest effect
on the abiding temper of the soul.
If God is pleased to carry on this work, and it should
prove to be the dawning of a general revival of the chris
tian church, it may be expected that the time will come
before long, when the experiences of Christians shall be
much more generally thus qualified. We must expect green
fruits before we have ripe ones. It is probable that here
after the discoveries which the saints shall have of divine
things, will be in a much higher degree than yet have been;
but yet shall be so ordered of an infinitely wise and all-
sufficient God, that they shall not have so great an effect,
in proportion, on the body, and will be less oppressive to
nature. The outward manifestations will rather be like
those that were in Stephen, when he was full of the Holy
Ghost, when " all that sat in the council, looking stedfast
ly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an an
gel." Their inward fulness of the Spirit of God, in his
divine, amiable, and sweet influences, shall as it were shine
forth in a heavenly aspect, and the manner of speech and
behaviour. — But,
3. There is another thing concerning the experiences of
Christians, of which it is of yet greater importance that we
should be aware, than of the preceding, and that is the
degenerating of experiences. What I mean is something
diverse from the mere decay of experiences, or their gradu
ally vanishing, by persons losing their sense of things ;
viz. experiences growing by degrees worse and worse in
their kind, more and more partial and deficient; in which
things are more out of due proportion, and also have more
and more of a corrupt mixture ; the spiritual part decreases,
and the other useless and hurtful parts greatly increase. This
I have seen in very many instances ; and great are the mis
chiefs that have risen through want of being more aware of it.
There is commonly, as I observed before, in high expe
riences, besides that which is spiritual, a mixture of three
things, viz. natural or common affections, workings of the
imagination, and a degree of self-righteousness or spiritual
pride. Now it often comes to pass, that through persons
not distinguishing the wheat from the chaff, and for want
of watchfulness and humble jealousy of themselves — and
by laying great weight on the natural and imaginary part,
yielding to it, and indulging it, whereby that part grows
and increases, and the spiritual part decreases — the devil
sets in, and works in the corrupt part, and cherishes it to
his utmost. At length the experiences of some persons,
who began well, come to little else but violent motions of
carnal affections, with great heats of the imagination, a
great degree of enthusiasm and swelling of spiritual pride:
very much like some fruits which bud, blossom, and ker
nel well, but afterwards are blasted with an excess of
moisture ; so that though the bulk is monstrously great,
yet there is little else in it but what is useless and un
wholesome. It appears to me very probable, that many of
the heresies that have arisen, and sects that have appeared
in the christian world, in one age and another, with wild
enthusiastic notions and practices, began at first by this
means, that it was such a degenerating of experiences which
first gave rise to them, or at least led the way to them. —
Nothing in the world so much exposes to this, as an un
heeded spiritual pride and self-confidence, and persons
being conceited of their own stock, without an humble,
daily, and continual dependence on God. And this very
thing seems to be typified of old, by the corrupting of the
manna. Some of the children of Israel, because they had
gathered a store of manna, trusted in it ; there being, as
they apprehended, sufficient in the store they had gathered
and laid up, without humbly looking to heaven, and stoop
ing to the earth, for daily supplies ; and the consequence
was, that their manna bred worms and stank, Exod. xvi.
20. Pride above all things promotes this degeneracy of ex

periences, because it grieves and quenches the Spirit of the
Lamb of God ; and so it kills the spiritual part, cherishes
the natural part, inflames the carnal affections, and heats
the imagination. — The unhappy subject of such a degene
racy, for the most part, is not sensible of his own calamity;
but because he finds himself still violently moved, has
greater heats of zeal, and more vehement motions of his
animal spirits, thinks himself fuller of the Spirit of God
than ever. But indeed it is with him, as the apostle says
of the Galatians, Gal. iii. 3. " Having begun in the Spirit,
they are made perfect by the flesh."
By the mixture there is of common affection with love to
God, the love of true Christians is liable to degenerate,
and to be more and more built on a supposition of being
his high and peculiar favourites, and less and less on an
apprehension of the excellency of God's nature as he is in
himself. So the joy of Christians, by reason of the mix
ture there is with spiritual joy, is liable to degenerate, and
to become little else but joy in self, joy in a person's own
supposed eminency, and distinction from others in the fa
vour of God. So zeal, that at first might be in great part
spiritual, yet, in a long continuance of opposition and con
troversy, may degenerate more and more into human and
proud passion, and may come to bitterness, and even a de-
free of hatred. And so love to the brethren may by
egrees come to little else but fondness, and zeal for a
party ; yea, through a mixture of a natural love to the op
posite sex, may degenerate more and more, till it issues in
that which is criminal and gross. And I leave it with
those who are better acquainted with ecclesiastical history,
to inquire whether such a degeneracy of affections as this,
might not be the first thing that led the way, and gave oc
casion to the rise, of the abominable notions of some sects
that have arisen, concerning the community of women.
However that is, yet certainly the mutual embraces and
kisses of persons of different sexes, under the notion of
christian love and holy kisses, are utterly to be disallowed
and abominated, as having the most direct tendency
quickly to turn Christian love into unclean and brutish lust,
which will not be the better, but ten times toe worse, for
being christened by the name of christian love. I should
also think it advisable, that meetings of young people, of
both sexes, in the evening, by themselves, without a
minister, or any elder people amongst them, for religious
exercises, should be avoided. For though for the present,
while their minds are greatly solemn with lively impres
sions, and a deep sense of divine things, there may appear
no ill consequence ; yet we must look to tbe further end
of things, and guard against future dangers, and advan
tages that Satan might gain against us. As a lively, so
lemn sense of divine things on the minds of young persons
may gradually decay, so there will be danger that an ill
improvement of these meetings may gradually prevail ; if
not in any unsuitable behaviour while together in the meet
ing, yet, when toey break up to go home, they may na
turally consort together in couples, for other than religious
purposes ; and it may at last so terminate, that young per
sons may go to such meetings, chiefly for the sake of such
an opportunity for company-keeping.
The defect there sometimes is in the experiences of
Christians exposes them to degenerate, as well as the mix
ture that they have. Deficient maimed experiences do
sometimes become more and more so. The mind being
wholly intent upon those things that are in view, and those
that are most wanting being neglected, there is less and
less of them, and so the gap for corruption to come in
grows wider and wider. And commonly both these causes
operate together. — We had need to be jealous over our
selves with a godly jealousy, as the apostle was over the
christian Corinthians, lest by any means, as the serpent be
guiled Eve through his subtilty, so our minds should be cor
rupted from the simplicity that is in Christ. God indeed
will never suffer his true saints totally and finally to fall
away, but yet may punish their pride and self-confidence,
by suffering them to be long led into a dreadful wilder
ness, by the subtle serpent, to the great wounding of their
own souls and the interest of religion.
Before I dismiss this head of the degenerating of expe
riences, I would mention one thing more that tends to it ;
and that is, persons aiming in their experience to go be-

414

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

yond the rule of God's word, i. e. aiming at that which is
indeed, in some respect, beyond the rule. Thus some
persons have endeavoured utterly to root out and abolish
all natural affection, or any special affection or respect to
their near relations, under a notion that no other love ought
to be allowed but spiritual love, and that all other love is
to be abolished as carnal, and that it becomes Christians
to love none upon the account of any thing else but the
image of God ; and that therefore love should go out to
one and another only in that proportion in which the image
of God is seen in them. They might as well argue that a
man ought utterly to disallow of, and endeavour to abolish,
all love or appetite to his daily food, under a notion that
it is a carnal appetite, and that no other appetite should be
tolerated but spiritual appetites. Why should the saints
strive after that, as a high attainment in holiness, which
the apostle in Rom. i. 31. mentions as one instance wherein
the heathen had got to the most horrid pass in wickedness,
viz. being without natural affection ? Some have doubted
whether they might pray for the conversion and salvation
of the souls of their children, any more than for the souls
of others ; because the salvation of the souls of others
would be as much to God's glory, as the salvation of their
children; and they have supposed that to pray most for
their own, would show a selfish disposition. So they have
been afraid to tolerate a compassionate grief and concern
for their nearest friends, for fear it would be an argument
of want of resignation to God. — It is true, there is great
danger of persons setting their hearts too much upon their
earthly friends ; our love to earthly friends ought to be
under the government of the love of God, and should be
attended with a spirit of submission and resignation to his
will, and every thing should be subordinated to his glory.
But that is no argument that these affections should be
entirely abolished. The Creator of the world has put
them in us, for the good of mankind, and because he saw
they would be needful for them, as they must be united
in society in the present state, and are of great use when
kept in their proper place ; and to endeavour totally to
root them out, would be to reproach and oppose the wis
dom of the Creator. Nor is the being of these natural
inclinations, if well regulated, inconsistent with any part
of our duty to God, or any argument of a sinful selfishness,
any more than our natural abhorrence of pain, and the
natural inclination to ease that was in the man Christ
Jesus himself.
It is the duty of parents to be more concerned and to
pray more for the salvation of their children, than for the
children of their neighbours ; as it is the duty of a minister
to be more concerned for the salvation of toe souls of his
flock, and to pray more for them, than those of other con
gregations, because they are committed to his care. So
our near friends are more committed to our care than
others, and our near neighbours, than those that live at a
great distance ; and the people of our land and nation are
more, in some sense, committed to our care than the people
of China, and we ought to pray more for them, and to be
more concerned that the kingdom of Christ should flourish
among them, than in another country, where it would be
as much, and no more, for the glory of God. Compassion
ought to be especially exercised towards friends, Job vi.
14. Christ did not frown upon a special affection and
compassion for near friends ; but rather countenanced and
encouraged it, from time to time, in those who, in the exer
cise of such an affection and compassion, applied to him
for relief for their friends ; as in the instances of the woman
of Canaan, Jairus, Mary and Martha, the centurion, the
widow of Nain, and many others. The apostle Paul,
though as much resigned and devoted to God, and under
the power of his love, perhaps, as any mere man that ever
lived, had a-peculiar concern for his countrymen the Jews,
the rather on that account, that they were his brethren and
kinsmen according to the flesh. He had a very high degree
of compassionate grief for them, insomuch that he tells us
he had great heaviness and continual sorrow of heart for
them, and could wish himself accursed from Christ for
them.— Many things are proper for the saints in heaven,
which are not suitable to our state in this world : and for
Christians, in these and other instances, to affect to go
beyond the present state of mankind, and what God has

appointed as fit for it, is an instance of that which the wise
man calls being righteous overmuch, and has a tendency to
open a door for Satan, and to cause religious affections to
degenerate into something very unbecoming Christians. —
Thus I have, as I proposed, taken notice of some things
with regard to the inward experiences of Christians, by
which Satan has an advantage. I now proceed,
II. To take notice of something with regard to the ex
ternal effects of experiences, which also gives Satan an
advantage. What 1 refer to, is the secret and unaccount
able influence that custom has upon persons, with respect
to the external effects and manifestations of the inward
affections of the mind. By custom I mean, both a person's
being accustomed to a thing in himself, in his own com
mon, allowed, and indulged practice; and also the coun
tenance and approbation of others amongst whom he
dwells, by their general voice and practice. It is well
known, and appears sufficiently by what I have said al
ready in this treatise and elsewhere, that I am far from
ascribing all the late uncommon effects and outward mani
festations of inward experiences to custom and fashion, as
some do ; I know it to be otherwise, if it be possible for
me to know any thing of this nature by the most critical
observation, under all manner of opportunities of observ
ing. But yet this also is exceeding evident by experience,
that custom has a strange influence in these things. I
know it by the different manners and degrees of external
effects and manifestations of great affections and high dis
coveries, in different towns, according to what persons are
gradually led into, and to which they are insensibly habit
uated, by example and custom ; and also in the same place,
at different times, according to^fheir conduct. If some
person conducts them, that much countenances and en
courages such kind of outward manifestations of great
affections, they naturally and insensibly prevail, and grow
by degrees unavoidable ; but, when afterwards they come
under another kind of conduct, the manner of external
appearances will strangely alter. And yet it seems to be
without any proper design or contrivance of those in whom
there is this alteration ; it is not properly affected by them,
but the influence of example and custom is secret and in
sensible to the persons toemselves. These things have a
vast influence in toe manner of persons manifesting toeir
joys, whether with smiles and an air of lightness, or whe
ther wito more solemnity and reverence ; and so they
have a great influence as to the dispositions persons have
under high affections to abound in talk ; and also as to
the manner of their speaking, toe loudness and vehemence
of their speech. It would, however, be exceeding unjust,
and against all the evidence of fact and experience, and
the reason of things, to ascribe to custom all dispositions
to be much in speaking to others, and to speak in a very
earnest manner. It is manifest that example and custom
has some way or other, a secret and unsearchable influence
on those actions that are involuntary, in different places,
and in the same places at different times.
It would be very unreasonable, and prejudicial to toe
interest of religion, to frown upon all these extraordinary
external effects and manifestations of great religious af
fections. — A measure of toem is natural, necessary, and
beautiful, and the effect in no wise disproportioned to toe
spiritual cause, and is of great benefit to promote religion.
Yet I think they greatly err who suppose that these things
should be wholly unlimited, and that all should be en
couraged in going to the utmost length that they feel
themselves inclined to. There ought to be a general re
straint upon these things, and there should be a prudent
care taken of persons in such extraordinary circumstances.
They should be moderately advised at proper seasons, not
to make more ado than there is'need of, but rather to hold
a restraint upon their inclinations ; otherwise extraordinary
outward effects will grow upon them, they will be more
and more natural and unavoidable, and the extraordinary
outward show will increase, without any increase of the
internal cause. Persons will find themselves under a kind
of necessity of making a' great ado, with less and less af
fection of soul, till at length almost any slight emotion
will set them going ; and they will be more and more
violent and boisterous, and will grow louder and louder,
till their actions and behaviour become indeed very ab-

Sect. IV.

OF CENSURING PROFESSING CHRISTIANS.

415

surd. These things experience proves. Thus I have taken
notice of the more general causes whence the errors that
have attended this great revival of religion have risen, and
under each head have observed some particular errors that
have flowed from these fountains.

SECT. IV.
Some particular errors that have risen from several of the
preceding causes — Censuring others.
In some cases perhaps they have been chiefly owing to
one, and in others to another, and in others to the influence
of several, or all conjunctly. And here the first thing I
would take notice of is, censuring professing Christians of
good standing in toe visible church, as unconverted. I
need not repeat what I have elsewhere said to show this
to be against the plain, frequent, and strict prohibitions of
the word of God. It is the worst disease that has attended
this work, most contrary to the spirit and rules of Chris
tianity, and of the worst consequences. — There is a most
unhappy tincture that the minds of many, both ministers
and people, have received that way. The manner of many
has been, when they first enter into conversation with any
person that seems to make any pretences to religion, to fix
a judgment of him, from his manner of talking of religious
things, whether he be converted, or experimentally ac
quainted with vital piety, or not ; and then to treat him
accordingly, and freely to express their thoughts of him to
others, especially those of whom they have a good opinion,
as true Christians, and accepted as brethren and com
panions in Christ. Or if they do not declare their minds
expressly, yet by their manner of speaking of them, at
least to their friends, they will show plainly what toeir
thoughts are. So, when they have heard any minister
pray or preach, their first work has been to observe him
on a design of discerning him, whether he be a converted
man or no ; whether he prays like one toat feels the saving
power of God's Spirit in his heart, and whether he
preaches like one that knows what he says. It has been
so much the way in some places, that many new converts
do not know but it is their duty to do so, they know no
other way. And when once persons yield to such a
notion, and give in to such a humour, they will quickly
grow very discerning in their own apprehension, and think
they can easily tell a hypocrite. And when once toey
have passed their censure, every thing seems to confirm
it ; they see more and more in the person they have cen
sured, that seems to them to show plainly that he is an
unconverted man. And then, if the person censured be
a minister, every thing in his public performances seems
dead and sapless, and to do them no good at all, but on
the contrary to be of a deadening influence, and poisonous
to the soul ; yea, it seems worse and worse to them, his
preaching grows more and more intolerable. Which is
owing to a secret, strong prejudice, that steals in more and
more upon the mind, as experience plainly and certainly
shows. When the Spirit of God was wonderfully poured
out in this place more than seven years ago, and near
thirty souls in a week, take one with another, for five or
six weeks together, were to appearance brought home to
Christ, and all the town seemed to be alive and full of
God, there was no such notion or humour prevailing here.
When ministers preached here, as very many did at toat
time, young and old, our people did not go about to dis
cern whether they were men of experience or not ; they
did not know that they must. Mr. Stoddard never brought
them up in that way ; it did not seem natural to them to
go about any thing of that nature, nor did any such thing
enter into their hearts ; but, when any minister preached,
the business of every one was to listen and attend to what
he said, and apply it to his own heart, and make the utmost
improvement of it. And it is remarkable, that never did
* In these expressions our excellent author is not sufficiently guarded. —
Oarknowiny or not knowing persons to be reprobates, in any sense of that
.term, is no sufficient standard of obligation to hate or to love them, in the
way of benevolence. The obligation to love or to hate is founded on the
nature of the object, as good or bad. But here we are liable to err, for
want of discriminating between a person and hiscriminal qualities. Now
every criminal object should be regarded by us a being possessed of physi
cal powers ; but this existence and these powers, being the product of .divine

there appear such a disposition in the people to relish,
approve of, and admire ministers' preaching as at toat time.
Such expressions as these were frequent in the mouths of
one and another, on occasion of the preaching of strangers
here, viz. That they rejoiced there were so many such emi
nent ministers in the country ; and they wondered they
never heard the fame of them before. They were thankful
that other towns had so good means ; and the like. And
scarcely ever did any minister preach here, but his preach
ing did some remarkable service ; as I had good oppor
tunity to know, because at that time I had particular
acquaintance with most of the persons in the town, in
their soul-concems. That it has been so much otherwise
of late in many places in the land is another instance of
the secret and powerful influence of custom and example.
There has been an unhappy disposition in some minis
ters toward their brethren in the ministry in this respect,
which has encouraged and greatly promoted such a spirit
among some of toeir people. A wrong improvement has
been made of Christ's scourging the buyers and sellers
out of the temple. It has been expected by some, that
Christ was now about thus to purge his house of uncon
verted ministers ; and this has made it more natural to
them to think that they should do Christ service, and act
as co-workers with him, to put to their hand, and en
deavour by all means to cashier those ministers that they
thought to be unconverted. Indeed it appears to me
probable that the time is coming when awful judgments
will be executed on unfaithful ministers, and that no sort
of men in the world will be so much exposed to divine
judgments. But then we should leave that work to Christ,
who is toe searcher of hearts, and to whom vengeance
belongs ; and not, without warrant, take the scourge out
of his hand into our own. There has been too much of a
disposition in some, as it were, to give ministers over as
reprobates, being looked upon as wolves in sheeps' cloth
ing ; which has tended to promote and encourage a spirit
of bitterness towards them, and to make it natural to treat
them too much as if they knew God hated them. If
God's children knew that others were reprobates, it would
not be required of them to love them ; we may hate those
that we know God hates ; as it is lawful to hate the devil,
and as the saints at the day of judgment will hate the
wicked* Some have been too apt to look for fire from
heaven upon particular ministers ; and this has naturally
excited that disposition to call for it, which Christ rebuked
in his disciples at Samaria. For my part, though I be
lieve no sort of men on earth are so exposed to spiritual
judgments as wicked ministers, yet I feel no disposition to
treat any minister as if I supposed that he was finally re
jected of God ; for I cannot but hope that there is coming
a day of such great grace, a time so appointed for magni
fying the riches and sovereignty of divine mercy, beyond
what ever was, that a great number of unconverted minis
ters will obtain mercy. There were no sort of persons in
Christ's time that were so guilty, and so hardened, and to
wards whom Christ manifested such great indignation,
as the priests and scribes ; and there were no such perse
cutors of Christ and his disciples as they. And yet in
that great outpouring ofthe Spirit that began on the day of
Pentecost, though it began with the common people, yet
in the progress of the work, after awhile, " a great com
pany of priests in Jerusalem were obedient to the faith,"
Acts vi. 7. And Saul, one of the most violent of all the
persecuting Pharisees, became afterwards the greatest pro
moter of the work of God that ever was. I hope we shall
yet see in many instances a fulfilment of that in Isa. xxix.
24. " They also that erred in spirit shall come to under
standing, and they that murmured shall learn doctrine."
Nothing has been gained by this practice. The end that
some have aimed at in it has not been obtained, nor is ever
like to be. Possibly some have openly censured minis
ters, and encouraged their people's uneasiness under them,
in hopes that the uneasiness would be so general, and so
bounty, deserve our benevolent approbation, not our hatred. On the other
hand, every criminal object, or agent, is chargeable with criminal designs
and hateful qualities exclusively his own ; and these alone deserve our
hatred. In no other sense but this latter can it be truly said that God hates
the workers of iniquity, wicked men, or even the devil. But if so, in no
other sense or degree ought we to hate them. Had our author been scien
tifically acquainted with that principle which accounts for the true origin
of moral evil, he would have seen the impropriety of his statement— Vv .

416

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

great, that unconverted ministers in general would be cast
off, and then things would go on happily. But there is no
likelihood of it. The devil indeed has obtained his end ;
this practice has bred a great deal of unhappiness among
ministers and people, has spoiled Christians' enjoyment of
Sabbaths, and made them their most uneasy, uncomfort
able, and unprofitable days, and has sthred up great con
tention, and set all in a flame. In one place and another,
where there was a glorious work of God's Spirit begun, it
has in a great measure knocked all on the head, and their
ministers hold their places. Some have aimed at a better
end in censuring ministers ; they have supposed it to be a
likely means to awaken them. Whereas indeed no one
thing has had so great a tendency to prevent the awaken
ing of disaffected ministers in general ; and no one thing
has actually had such influence to lock up the minds of
ministers against any good effect of this great work of God
in the land. I have known instances of some who seemed
to be much moved by the first appearance of this work, but
since have seemed to be greatly deadened by what has ap
peared of this nature. And, if there be one or two in
stances of ministers who have been awakened by it, there
are ten to one on whom it has had a contrary influence.
The worst enemies of this work have been inwardly
caused by this practice ; they have made a shield of it to
defend their consciences, and have been glad that it has
been earned to so great a length ; at the same time that
they have looked upon it, and improved it, as a door open
ed for them to be more bold in opposing the work in general.
There is no such dreadful danger of natural men being
undone by our forbearing thus to censure them, and carry
ing it towards them as visible Christians. It will be no
bloody hell-peopling charity, as some seem to suppose,
when we only allow them to be worthy of a public charity,
on their profession and good external behaviour; any more
than Judas was in danger of being deceived, by Christ's
treating him a long time as a disciple, and sending him
forth as an apostle. Christ did not then take it upon him
to act as the judge and searcher of hearts, but only as the
head of the visible church. Indeed such a charity as this
may be abused by some, as every thing is, and will be,
that is in its own nature proper, and of never so good ten
dency. I say nothing against dealing thoroughly with
conscience, by the most convincing and searching dispen
sation of the word of God. I do not desire that sword
should be sheathed, or gently handled by ministers ; but
let it be used as a two-edged sword, to pierce, even to the
dividing asunder soul and spirit, joints and marrow ; let
conscience be dealt with, without any compliments ; let
ministers handle it in flaming fire, without having any
more mercy on it, than the furnace has on those metals
that are tried in it. But we should let men's persons alone :
let the word of God judge them, but let us not take it upon
us till we have a warrant for it.
Some have been ready to censure ministers because they
seem, in comparison of some other ministers, to be very
cold and lifeless in their ministerial performances. But
then it should be considered, that, for ought we know, God
may hereafter raise up ministers of so much more excellent
and heavenly qualifications, and so much more spiritual
and divine in their performances, that there may appear as
great a difference between them, and those who now seem
the most lively, as there is now between them, and others
that are called dead and sapless. And those that are now
called lively ministers may appear to their hearers, when
they compare them with others who shall excel them, as
wretchedly mean, and their performances poor, dead, dry
things ; and many may be ready to be prejudiced against
them, as accounting them good for nothing, and, it may be,
calling them soul-murderers. What a poor figure may we
suppose the most lively of us, and those that are most ad
mired by the people, make in the eyes of one of the saints
of heaven, any otherwise than as their deadness, deformity,
and rottenness is hid by the veil of Christ's righteousness !
Another thing that has been supposed to be sufficient
warrant for openly censuring ministers as unconverted, is
their opposing this work of God that has lately been car
ried on in the land. And there can be no doubt with me
but that opposition against this work may be such, as to
render either ministers or people truly scandalous, and ex

pose them to public ecclesiastical censure ; and that minis
ters hereby may utterly defeat the design of their ministry,
(as I observed before,) and so give their people just caus<|
of uneasiness. I should not think that any person had
power to oblige me constantly to attend the ministry ot one
who did from time to time plainly pray and preach
against this work, or speak reproachfully of it frequently m
his public performances, after all christian methods had
been used for a remedy, and to no purpose.— But to deter
mine how far opposing this work is consistent with a state
of grace, is, as experience shows, a very difficult thing :
who can tell how far, and for how long time, some persons
of good experience in their own souls may proceed, through
prejudices they have received from the errors that have been
mixed with this work, or through some peculiar disad
vantages they are under to behold things in a right view, by
reason of the persons they converse with, or their own cold
and dead frames ? I have seen what abundantly con
vinces me, that the business is too high for me ; I am glad
that God has not committed such a difficult affair to me ; I
can joyfully leave it wholly in his hands, who is infinitely fit
for it, without meddling at all with it myself. We may re
present it as exceeding dangerous to oppose this work, for
this we have good warrant in the word of God ; but I know
of no necessity we are under to determine whether it be
possible for those that are guilty of it to be in a state of
grace or no.
God seems so strictly to have forbidden our judging our
brethren in the visible church, not only because he knew
that we were infinitely too weak, fallible, and blind, to be
well capacitated for it, but also because he knew that it
was not a work suited to our proud hearts ; that it would
be setting us vastly too high, and making us too much of
lords over our fellow-creatures. Judging our brethren,
and passing a condemnatory sentence upon them, seems to
carry in it an act of authority, especially to sentence them
with respect to that state of their hearts, on which depends
their liableness to eternal damnation. This is evident by such
interrogations as the following, to hear which from God's
mouth, is enough to make us shrink into nothing wito
shame and confusion, under a sense of our own blindness
and worthlessness, Rom. xiv. 4. " Who art thou that
judgest another man's servant ? to his own master he
standeth or falleth." And James iv. 12. "There is one
lawgiver that is able to save and to destroy ; who art thou
that judgest another ?" Our wise and merciful Shepherd
has graciously taken care not to lay in our way such a
temptation to pride ; he has cut up all such poison out of
our pasture ; and therefore we should not desire to have it
restored. Blessed be his name, that he has not laid such
a temptation in the way of my pride ! I know that, in
order to be fit for this business, I must not only be vastly
more knowing, but more humble than I am.— Though I
believe some of God's own children have of late been
very guilty in this matter, yet, by what is said of it in the
Scripture, it appears to me very likely, that God will
awfully rebuke that practice. May it in sovereign and
infinite mercy be prevented, by the deep and open humi
liation of those that have openly practised it !
As this practice ought to be avoided, so should all such
open, visible marks of distinction and separation that im
ply it, (as particularly, distinguishing such as we have
judged to be in a converted state wito toe compellations
of brother or sister,) any further toan there is a visible
ecclesiastical distinction." In those places where it is the
manner to receive such, and such only, to the communion
of toe visible church, as recommend themselves by giving
a satisfying account of their inward experiences, there
Christians may. openly distinguish such persons, in toeir
speech and ordinary behaviour, with a visible separation,
without being inconsistent with themselves. I do not now
pretend to meddle with that controversy, whetoer such an
account of experience be requisite to church-fellowship.
But certainly, to admit persons to communion with us as
brethren in toe visible church, and then visibly to reject
them, and to make an open distinction between toem and
others, by different names or appellations, is to be incon
sistent with ourselves. It is to make a visible church
within a visible church, and visibly to divide between
sheep and goats, setting one on toe right hand, and toe

Sect. IV.

OF CENSURING PROFESSING CHRISTIANS.

417

other on the left. — This bitter root of censoriousness must
be totally rooted out, as we would prepare the way of the
Lord. It has nourished and upheld many other things
contrary to the humility, meekness, and love of the gos
pel. The minds of many have received an unhappy turn,
with their religion : there is a certain point or sharpness,
a disposition to a kind of warmth, that does not savour of
that meek, lamb-like, sweet disposition that becomes
Christians. Many have now been so long habituated to
it, that toey do not know how to get out of it ; but we
must get out of it; the point and sharpness must be
blunted, and we must learn another way of manifesting
our zeal for God.
Some have a way of reflecting on others, and censuring
them in open prayer ; which, though it has a fair show of
love, is indeed the boldest way of reproaching others
imaginable ; because there is implied in it an appeal to
the most high God, concerning the truth of their censures
and reflections. — And some have a way of joining a sort
of imprecations with their petitions for others, though but
conditional ones, that appear to me wholly needless and
improper. They pray that others may either be converted
or removed. I never heard nor read of any such thing
practised in the church of God till now, unless it be with
respect to r,ome of the most visibly and notoriously aban
doned enemies of the church of God. This is a sort of
cursing men in our prayers, adding a curse with our
blessing ; whereas the rule is, Bless, and curse not. To
pray toat God would kill another, is to curse him as
Elisha cursed the children who came out of Bethel. And
the case must be very great and extraordinary indeed to
warrant it, unless we were prophets, and did not speak
our own words, but words indited by the immediate in
spiration of the Spirit of God. It is pleaded, that if God
has no design of converting others, it is best for them and
others, that they should be immediately taken away and
sent to hell before they have contracted more guilt. To
which I would say, that so it was best for those children
who met Elisha, seeing God had no design of converting
them, to die immediately, as they did ; but yet Elisha's
imprecating that sudden death upon them, was cursing
them ; and therefore would not have been lawful for one
who did not speak in toe name of the Lord as a prophet.
— And then, if we give way to such things as these, where
shall we stop ? A child that suspects he has an uncon
verted father and mother, may pray openly that his father
and mother may either be converted, or taken away and
sent to hell now quickly, before their guilt is greater. For
unconverted parents are as likely to poison the souls of
toeir family in toeir manner of training them up, as un
converted ministers are to poison toeir people. And so it
might come to be a common thing all over the country,
for children to pray after this manner concerning their
parents, brethren and sisters concerning one another, hus
bands concerning toeir wives, and wives concerning their
husbands ; and so for persons to pray concerning all their
unconverted friends and neighbours. And not only so,
but we may also pray concerning all those saints who are
not lively Christians, toat they may either be enlivened or
taken away ; if that be true which is often said by some
at this day, toat these cold dead saints do more hurt than
natural men, and lead more souls to hell, and that it
would be well for mankind if they were all dead.
How needless are such petitions or imprecations as
these ! What benefit is there of them ? Is it not sufficient
for us to pray that God would provide for his church and
the good of souls, take care of his own flock, and give it
needful means and advantages for its spiritual prosperity ?
Does God need to be directed by us in what way he shall
do it ? What need we ask of God to do it by killing such
and such persons, if he do not convert them ? unless we
delight in the thoughts of God's answering us in such
terrible ways, and with such awful manifestations of his
wrath to our fellow-creatures. — And why do not ministers
direct sinners to pray for themselves, that God would
either convert them or kill toem, and send them to hell
now, before their guilt is greater ? In this way we should
lead persons in toe next place to self-murder : for many
probably would soon begin to think, toat what they may
pray for, they may seek by the use of means.
vol. I. 2 E

Some, with whom I have discoursed about this way of
praying, liave said, That the Spirit of God, as it were,
forces out such words from their mouths, when otherwise
they should not dare to utter them. But such kind of
impulse does not look like the influence of the Spirit of
God. The Spirit of God indeed sometimes strongly in
clines men to utter words ; not by putting expressions in
to the mouth, and urging to utter them, but by filling the
heart with a sense of divine things, and holy affections,
whence toe mouth speaks. That other way of being urged
to use certain expressions, by an unaccountable force, is
very probably from the influence of toe devil.

SECT. V.
Of errors connected with lay-exhorting.
Another thing, in the management of which there has
been much error and misconduct, is lay-exhorting ; about
which there has been abundance of disputing, jangling,
and contention. In the midst of these disputes, I sup
pose that all are agreed as to these two things, viz. 1 . That
all exhorting one another by lay-men is not unlawful or
improper ; but, on the contrary, that such exhorting is a
christian duty. And, 2. I suppose also, all will allow
that there is some kind or way of exhorting and teaching
which belongs only to the office of teachers. All will al
low that God has appointed such an office as that of teach
ers in the christian church, and therefore doubtless will
allow that something or other is proper and peculiar to
that office, or some business of teaching that does not be
long as much to others as to them. If there be any way
of teaching that is peculiar to that office, then for others to
take that upon toem, is to invade the office of a minister ;
which doubtless is very sinful, and is often so represented
in Scripture. But toe great difficulty is to settle the
bounds, and to tell exactly how far lay-men may go, and
when they exceed their limits ; which is a matter of so
much difficulty, that I do not wonder if many in their
zeal have transgressed. The two ways of teaching and ex
horting, the one of which ought ordinarily to be left to
ministers, and the other of which may and ought to be
practised by the people, may be expressed by those two
names of preaching, and exhorting in way of christian
conversation. But then a great deal of difficulty and con
troversy arises to determine what is preaching,and what is
christian conversation. However, I will humbly offer my
thoughts concerning this subject of lay-exhorting, as fol
lows. I. The common people, in exhorting one another, ought
not to clothe themselves with the like authority with that
which is proper for ministers. There is a certain authority
that ministers have aud should exercise in teaching, as well
as in governing toe flock. Teaching is spoken of in Scrip
ture as an act of authority, 1 Tim. ii. 12. In order to a
man's preaching, special authority must be committed to
him, Rom. x. 15. " How shall they preach, except they be
sent ?" Ministers in this work of teaching and exhorting are
clothed with authority, as Christ's messengers, Mai. ii. 7. as
representing him, and so speaking in his name, and in his
stead, 2 Cor. v. 18 — 20. And it seems to be the most
honourable thing toat belongs to tbe office of a minister of
the gospel, toat to him is committed the word of reconcilia
tion, and that he has power to preach toe gospel, as Christ's
messenger, and speaking in his name. The apostle seems
to speak of it as such, 1 Cor. i. 16, 17. Ministers there
fore, in the exercise of this power, may clothe themselves
with authority in speaking, or may teach others in an au
thoritative manner, Tit. ii. 15. " These things speak and
exhort, and rebuke with all authority : Let no man des
pise thee." But the common people, in exhorting one
another, ought not thus to exhort in an authoritative
manner. There is a great deal of difference between
teaching as a father amongst a company of children, and
counselling in a brotherly way, as the children may kindly
counsel and admonish one another. Those that are mere
brethren ought not to assume authority in exhorting,
though one may be better, and have more experience, than
another. Lay-men ought not to exhort as though they

418

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

were the ambassadors or messengers of Christ, as ministers
do ; nor should they exhort, warn, and charge in his
name, according to the ordinary import of such an expres
sion, when applied to teaching. — Indeed in one sense, <i
Christian ought to do every thing he does in religion in the
name of Christ, i. e. he ought to act in a dependence on
him as his head and mediator, and do all for his glorv.
But the expression, as it is usually understood, when ap
plied to teaching or exhorting, is speaking in Christ's stead,
and as having a message from him.
Persons may clothe themselves with authority in speak
ing, either by the authoritative words toey make use of, or in
the manner and authoritative air of their speaking. Though
some may think that this latter is a matter of indifference,
or at least of small importance, yet there is indeed a great
deal in it ; a person may go much out of his place, and
be guilty of a great degree of assuming, in the manner of
his speaking those words, which, as they might be spoken,
might be proper for him.— The same words, spoken in a
different manner, may express what is very diverse.
Doubtless there may be as much hurt in the manner of a
person's speaking, as there may in his looks ; but the wise
man tells us, that " an high look is an abomination to the
Lord," Prov. xxi. 4. Again, a man may clothe himself
with authority, in toe circumstances under which he
speaks; as for instance, if he sets himself up as a public
teacher. Here I would have it observed, that I do not
suppose that a person is guilty of this, merely because he
speaks in the hearing of many. Persons may speak only
in a way of conversation, and yet speak in the hearing of
a great number, as they often do in their common conver
sation about temporal things, at feasts and entertainments,
where women as well as others converse freely together, in
the hearing it may be of a great number, and yet without
offence. And if their conversation on such occasions should
turn on spiritual things, and they should speak as freely
and openly, I do not see why it would not be as harmless.
Nor do I think, that besides a great number being present,
persons speaking with a very earnest and loud voice, is
for them to set up themselves as public teachers, if they
do it from no contrivance or premeditated design, or as
purposely directing themselves to a congregation or multi
tude. But persons speaking in conversation, or when all
freely converse one with another — directing themselves to
none but those toat are near toem, and fall in their way
—in that earnest and pathetic manner, to which the sub
ject naturally leads, and as it were constrains them : I
say, that for persons to do thus, though many happen to
hear them, does not appear to me to be setting themselves
up as public teachers. Yea, suppose all this happens to
be in a meeting-house ; I do not think that this much
alters the case, provided the solemnity of public service
and divine ordinances be over; and provided also that
they speak in no authoritative way, but in an humble
manner, becoming their degree and station, though they
speak very earnestly and pathetically. — Indeed modesty
might in ordinary cases restrain some persons (as women
and those that are young) from so much as speaking when
a great number are present, at least, when some of those
present are much their superiors, unless they are spoken to.
And yet, the case may be so extraordinary as fully to
warrant it. If something very extraordinary happens to
persons, or if they are in extraordinary circumstances ; as
if a person be struck with lightning in the midst of a great
company, or if he lies a-dying, it appears to none any viola
tion of modesty for him to speak freely before toose toat are
much his superiors. I have seen some women and chil
dren in such circumstances, on religious accounts, that it
has appeared to me no more a transgressing the laws of
humility and modesty for toem to speak freely, let who
will be present, than if they were in danger of dying.
But then may a man be said to set up himself as a
public teacher, when in a set speech, of design, he directs
himself to a multitude, as looking that they should com
pose themselves to attend to what he has to say. And
much more when this is a contrived and premeditated
thing, without any thing like a constraint by an extraor
dinary sense or affection ; and more still, when meetings
are appointed on purpose to hear lay-persons exhort, and
they take it as their business to be speakers, while they

expect that otoers should come, and compose themselves,
and attend as hearers. When private Christians take it
upon them in private meetings to act as the masters or
presidents of toe assembly, and accordingly from time to
time to teach and exhort the rest, this has the appearance
of authoritative teaching.
When private Christians, who are no more than mere
brethren, exhort and admonish one another, it ought to be
in an humble manner, rather by way of entreaty, than
with authority ; and the more, according as the station of
persons is lower. Thus it becomes women, and those that
are young, ordinarily to be at a greater distanee from any
appearance of authority in speaking than others. Thus
much at least is evident by 1 Tim. ii. 9, 11, 12. That
lay-persons ought not to exhort one another as clothed
with authority, is a general rule ; but it cannot justly be
supposed to extend to heads of families in toeir own fami
lies. Every christian family is a little church, and toe
heads of it are its authoritative teachers and governors.
Nor can it extend to schoolmasters among toeir scholars ;
and some other cases might perhaps be mentioned, that
ordinary discretion will distinguish, where a man's circum
stances do properly clothe him with authority, and render
it fit and suitable for him to counsel and admonish others
in an authoritative manner.
II. No man but a minister duly appointed to that
sacred calling, ought to follow teaching and exhorting as a
calling, or so as to neglect that which is his proper calling.
Having the office of a teacher in toe church of God im
plies two things : 1 . A being invested with the authority
of a teacher; and 2. A being called to the business of a
teacher, to make it the business of his life. Therefore
that man who is not a minister, taking either of these upon
him, invades the office of a minister. Concerning assum
ing the authority of a minister I have spoken already.
But if a lay-man do not assume authority in his teaching,
yet if he forsakes his proper calling, or doth so at least in
a great measure, and spends his time in going about from
house to house to counsel and exhort, he goes beyond his
line, and violates christian rules. Those that have the
office of teachers or exhorters, have it for their calling,
and should make it their business, as a business proper to
their office ; and none should make it their business but
such, Rom. xii. 3 — 8. " For I say, through the grace
given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to
think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but
to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every
man the proportion of faith. For as we have many mem
bers in one body, and all members have not the same
office ; so we being many, are one body in Christ. — He
that teacheth let him wait on teaching, or he that ex-
horteth, on exhortation." 1 Cor. xii. 29. " Are all apos
tles ? are all prophets ? are all teachers ?" 1 Cor. vii. 20.
" Let every man abide in the same calling wherein he was
called." 1 Thess. iv. 11. " And that ye study to be quiet,
and to do your own business, and to work with your own
hands, as we commanded you."
It will be a very dangerous thing for lay-men, in either
of these respects, to invade the office of a minister. If
this be common among us, we shall be in danger of hav
ing a stop put to the work of God, of the ark turning
aside from us, before it comes to mount Zion, and of God
making a breach upon us ; as of old there was an un
happy stop put to the joy of the congregation of Israel,
in bringing up the ark of God, because others carried it
besides the Levites. And therefore David, when the error
was found out, says, 1 Chron. xv. 2. " None ought to
carry the ark of God, but the Levites only ; for them hath
the Lord chosen to can-y the ark of God, and to minister
unto him for ever." And because one presumed to
touch the ark who was not of the sons of Aaron, there
fore the Lord made a breach upon them, and covered their
day of rejoicing with a cloud in his anger. — Before I dis
miss this head of lay-exhorting, I would take notice of
three things relating to it, upon which there ought to be a
restraint. 1. Speaking in the time ofthe solemn worship of God;
as public prayer, singing, or preaching, or administration
ofthe sacrament of the holy supper, or anv duty of social
worship. This should not be allowed, "I know it will

Sect. VI.

ERRORS RELATING TO SINGING.

419

be said, that in some cases, when persons are exceedingly
affected, they cannot help it ; and I believe so too ; but
then I also believe, and know by experience, that there
are several things which contribute to that inability, be
sides merely and absolutely the sense of divine things
upon their hearts. Custom and example, or the thing
being allowed, have such an influence, that they actually
help to make it impossible for persons under -strong af
fections to avoid speaking. If it was disallowed, and per
sons at the time that they were thus disposed to break
out, had this apprehension, that it would be very unbe
coming for them so to do, it would contribute to their
ability to avoid it. Their inability arises from their strong
and vehement disposition : and, so far as that disposition
is from a good principle, it would be weakened by this
thought, viz. " What I am going to do, will be for the
dishonour of Christ and religion." And so the inward
vehemence, that pushed them forward to speak, would fall,
and they would be enabled to avoid it. This experience
confirms. 2. There ought to be a moderate restraint on the loud
ness of persons' talking under high affections ; for, if there
be not, it will grow natural and unavoidable for persons
to be louder and louder, without any increase of their in
ward sense ; till it becomes natural to them, at last, to
scream and halloo to almost every one they see in the
streets, when they are much affected. But this is certainly
very improper, and what has no tendency to promote reli
gion. The man Christ Jesus, when he was upon earth, had
doubtless as great a sense of the infinite greatness and im
portance of eternal things, and the worth of souls, as any
have now; but there is not the least appearance in his his
tory, of his taking any such course, or manner of exhort
ing others.
3. There should also be some restraint on the abundance
of talk, under strong affections ; for, if persons give them
selves an unbounded liberty to talk just so much as they
feel an inclination to, they will increase and abound more
and more in talk, beyond the proportion of their sense or
affection ; till at length it will become ineffectual on those
that hear them, and, by the commonness of their abundant
talk, they will defeat their own end.

SECT. VI.
Of errors connected with singing praises to God.
One thing more of which I would take notice, before I
conclude this part, is the mismanagement of singing
praises to God. I believe it to have been one fruit of the
extraordinary degrees of the sweet and joyful influence of
the Spirit of God, that there has appeared such a disposi
tion to abound in this divine exercise ; not only in ap
pointed solemn meetings, but when Christians occasion
ally meet together at each other's houses. But the mis
management I have respect to is a way of performing it,
without almost any appearance of that reverence and so
lemnity with which -ill visible, open acts of divine wor
ship ought to be attended. It may be two or three are in
a room singing hymns of praise to God, others talking at
the same time, others about their work, with little more
appearance of regard to what is doing, than if only singing
a common song for their amusement and diversion. There
is danger, if such things are continued, that a mere no
thing be made of this duty, to the great violation of the
third commandment. Let Christians abound as much as
they will in this holy, heavenly exercise, in God's house
and in their own houses ; but, let it be performed as a
holy act, wherein they have immediately and visibly to do
with God. When any social open act of devotion or so
lemn worship of God is performed, God should be re
verenced as present. As we would not have the ark of
God depart from us, nor provoke God to make a breach
upon us, we should take heed that we handle the ark
with reverence.
With respect to companies singing in the streets, going
to or coming from the place of public worship, I would
humbly offer my thoughts in the following particulars :
1 . The rule of Christ, concerning putting new wine into
2 e 2

old bottles, does undoubtedly take place in things of this
nature, supposing the thing in itself is good, but not es
sential, and not particularly enjoined or forbidden. For
things so very new and uncommon, and of so open and
public a nature, to be suddenly introduced and set up
and practised in many parts of the country, without the
matter being so much as first proposed to any public con
sideration, or giving any opportunity for the people of
God to weigh the matter, or to consider any reasons
that might be offered to support it, is putting new wine
into old bottles with a witness ; as if it were with no
other design than to burst them directly. Nothing else
can be expected to be the consequence of this than up
roar and confusion, great offence, and unhappy mischiev
ous disputes, even among the children of God themselves.
Not that what is good in itself, and is new, ought to be
forborne, till there is nobody that will like it; but it
ought to be forborne till the visible church of God is so
prepared for it, at least, that there is a probability it will
not do more hurt than good, or hinder the work of God
more than promote it ; as is more evident from Christ's
rule, and the apostles' practice. If it be brought in when
the country is so unprepared, that the shock and surprise,
the contention and prejudice against religion it is like to
occasion, will do more to hinder religion, than the prac
tice is like to promote it, then the fruit is picked before it
is ripe. And, indeed, such a hasty endeavour to intro
duce an innovation, supposing it to be good in itself, is
the likeliest way to retard the effectual introduction of it ;
it will hinder its being extensively introduced, much more
than it will promote it, and so will defeat its own end. But,
2. As to the thing itself, if a considerable part of a con
gregation have occasion to go in company together to a
place of public worship, and they should join together in
singing praises to God, as they go, I confess, that after long
consideration — and endeavouring to view the thing every
way with the utmost diligence and impartiality I am
capable of— I cannot find any valid objection against it.
As to the common objection from Matt. vi. 5. " And when
thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are ; for
they love to pray standing in toe synagogues, and in the
comers of the streets, that they may be seen of men ;" it
is strong against a single person singing in the streets, or in
the meeting-house by himself, as offering to God personal
worship. But as it is brought against a considerable com
pany, their thus publicly worshipping God, appears to me
to have no weight at all ; it is of no more force against a
company's thus praising God in the streets, than against
toeir praising him in the synagogues, or meeting-houses ;
for the streets and toe synagogues are both put together in
these words of our Saviour, as parallel in the case. It is
evident that Christ speaks of personal, and not public,
worship. If to sing in the streets be ostentatious, then it
must be because it is a public place, and it cannot be done
there without being very open ; but it is no more public
than the synagogue or meeting-house is when full of
people. Some worship is in its nature private, as that
which is proper to particular persons, or families, or private
societies, and has respect to' their particular concerns .- but
that which I now speak of, is performed under no other
notion than a part of God's public worship, without any
relation to any private, separate society, and in which every
visible Christian has equal liberty to join, if it be con
venient for him, and he has a disposition, as in the worship
that is performed in toe meeting-house. When persons
are going to the house of public worship, to serve God
there wito the assembly of nis people, they are upon no
other design than that of putting public honour upon
God ; that is the business they go from home upon ; and,
even in their walking the streets on this errand, they appear
in a public act of respect to God ; and therefore, if they
go in company with public praise, it is not being public
when they ought to be private. It is one part of the
beauty of public worship, that it be very public ; the more
public it is, the more open honour it puts upon God : and
especially is it beautiful in public praise; for toe very
notion of publicly praising God, is to declare abroad his
glory, to publish his praise, to make it known, and pro
claim it aloud, as is evident by innumerable expressions of
Scripture. It is fit that God's honour should not be con-

420

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part IV.

cealed, but made known in the great congregation, and
proclaimed before the sun, and upon toe house-tops, before
kings and all nations, and that his praises should be heard
to toe utmost ends of the earth.
I suppose none will condemn singing God's praises,
merely because it is performed in the open air ; and, if it
may be performed by a company in the open air, doubt
less they may do it moving, as well as standing still. So
the children of Israel praised God, when they went to
mount Zion with the ark of God ; and the multitude
praised Christ, when they entered with him into Jerusalem,
a little before his passion. The children of Israel were
wont, from year to year, to go up to Jerusalem in com
panies, from all parts of the land, three times in toe year,
when they often used to manifest toe engagedness of their
minds by travelling all night, and manifested toeir joy
and gladness by singing praises wito gi'eat decency and
beauty, as they went towards God's holy mountain ; as is
evident by Isa. xxx. 29. " Ye shall have a song as in the
night, when a holy solemnity is kept, and gladness of
heart, as when one goeth with a pipe to come into the
mountain of the Lord, to the mighty One of Israel."
And Ps. xiii. 4. " When I remember these things, I pour
out my soul in me ; for I had gone wito the multitude, I
went with them to the house of God ; with the voice of
joy and praise, wito a multitude that kept holy-day."
Ps. c. 4. " Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and
•into his courts with praise." When God's people are
going to his house, the occasion is so joyful to a Christian
in a lively frame, that the duty of singing praises seems to
be peculiarly beautiful on such an occasion. So that if
the state of the country were ripe for it, and there should
be frequent occasions for a considerable part of a congre
gation to go together to toe places of public worship, and
there was in other respects a proportionable appearance of
fervency of devotion, it appears to me that it would be
ravishingly beautiful, if such things were practised all over
the land, and would have a great tendency to enliven, ani
mate, and rejoice the souls of God's saints, and greatly to
propagate vital religion. I believe the time is coming when
the world will be full of such things.
3. It seems to me to be requisite that there should be
the consent of the governing part of the worshipping
societies, to which persons have joined themselves, and of
which they own themselves a part, in order to the introduc
ing of things in public worship, so new and uncommon,
and not essential, nor particularly commanded, into the
places where those worshipping societies belong. The
peace and union of such societies seems to require it.
They have voluntarily united themselves to these worship
ping societies, to the end toat they might be one in toe
affairs of God's public worship, and have obliged them
selves in covenant to act as brethren, mutual assistants,
and members of one body in those affairs. All are hereby
naturally and necessarily led to be concerned with one
another, in matters of religion and God's worship ; and
this is a part of the public worship, that must be perform
ed from time to time in the. view of the whole, being
performed at a time when they'are meeting together for
mutual assistance in worship, and therefore that which all
must unavoidably be in some measure concerned in, at
least so as to Show their approbation and consent, or open
dislike and separation from them in- it. Hence charity,
and a regard to the union and peace of such societies,
seems to require a consent of the governing part, in order
to toe introducing any thing of this nature. Certainly if
we are of the spirit of the apostle Paul, and have his dis
cretion, we shall not set up any such practice without it.
He, for the sake of peace, conformed in things wherein he
was not particularly forbidden, to the Jews when among
them ; and so, when among those that were without the
law, he conformed to them wherein he might.  To be
sure, those go much beyond proper limits, who, coming

from abroad, do immediately of their own heads, in a
strange place, set up such a new and uncommon practice
among a people.
In introducing any thing of this nature among a pe?Eje>
their minister especially ought to be consulted, and his
voice taken, as long as he is owned for their minister.
Ministers are pastors of worshipping societies, and their
heads and guides in the affairs of public worship. ,They
are called in Scripture, " those toat rule over them ; and
their people are commanded " to obey them, because they
watch for their souls, as those that must give account. If
it belongs to these shepherds and rulers to direct and guide
the flock in any thing at all, it belongs to themso to do in
the circumstantials of their public worship.— Thus I have
taken particular notice of many of those things that have
appeared to me to be amiss in the management of our re
ligious concerns relating to the present revival of religion,
and have taken liberty freely to express my thoughts upon
them. Upon toe whole it appears manifest to me, that
things have as yet never been set a-going in their right
channel ; if they had, and means had been blessed in pro
portion as they have been now, this work would have so
prevailed, as before this time to have carried all before it,
and have -iumphed over JVeio England as its conquest.
The devil, in driving things to these extremes, besides
the present hinderance of the work of God, has, I believe,
had in view a twofold mischief, in the issue of things ;
one, with respect to those that are cold in religion, to
carry things to such an extreme in order toat people in
general, having their eyes opened by the great excess,
might be tempted entirely to reject the whole work, as
being all nothing but delusion and distraction. And
another, with respect to those of God's children who have
been very warm and zealous out of the way, to sink them
down in unbelief and darkness. The time is coming, I
doubt not, when the greater part of them will be con
vinced of their errors ; and then probably the devil will
take advantage to lead them into a dreadful wilderness, to
puzzle and confound them about their own experiences,
and the experiences of others ; and to make them to doubt
of many things that they ought not, and even to tempt
them with atheistical thoughts. I believe, if all true
Christians over the land should now at once have their eyes
opened fully to see all their errors, it would seem for the
present to damp religion. The dark thoughts that it
would at first occasion, and the inward doubts, difficulties,
and conflicts that would rise in their souls, would deaden
their lively affections and joys, and would cause an appear
ance of a present decay of religion. But yet it would do
God's saints great good in their latter end ; it would fit
them for more spiritual and excellent experiences, more
humble and heavenly love, and unmixed joys, and would
greatly tend to a more powerful, extensive, and durable
prevalence of vital piety. I do not know but we shall be
in danger, after our eyes are fully opened to see our errors,
to go to contrary extremes. The devil has driven thepera-
dulum far beyond its proper point of rest ; and when he
has carried it to the utmost length that he can, and it be
gins by its own weight to swing back, he probably will set
in, and drive it with the utmost fury the other way ; and
so give us no rest ; and if possible prevent our settling in
a proper medium. What a poor, blind, weak, and miser
able creature is man, at his best estate ! We are like poor
helpless sheep ; the devil is too subtle for us. What is
our strength ! What is our wisdom ! How ready are we
to go astray ! How easily are we drawn aside into innu
merable snares, while in the mean time we are bold and
confident, and doubt not but we are right and safe ! We are
foolish sheep in toe midst of subtle serpents and cruel
wolves, and do not know it. Oh how unfit are we to be
left to ourselves ! And how much do we stand in need of
the wisdom, the power, the condescension, patience, for
giveness, and gentleness of our good Shepherd !

Sect. I.

WE SHOULD REMOVE STUMBLING-BLOCKS.

421

PART V.

SHOWING POSITIVELY, WHAT OUGHT TO BE DONE TO PROMOTE THIS WORK.

In considering means and methods for promoting this
glorious work of God, I have already observed, in some
instances, wherein there has been needless objecting and
complaining; and have also taken notice of many things
amiss, that ought to be amended. I now proceed to show
positively, what ought to be done, or what courses (ac
cording to my humble opinion) ought to be taken to pro
mote this work. The obligations that all are under, with
one consent, to do their utmost, and the great danger of
neglecting it, were observed before. — I hope that some,
upon reading what was said under that head, will be
ready to say, What shall we do ? To such readers I would
now offer my thoughts, in answer to such an inquiry.

SECT. I.
We should endeavour to remove stumbling-blocks.
That which I think we ought to set ourselves about, in
the first place, is to remove stumbling-blocks. When
God is revealed as "about to come gloriously to set up his
kingdom in the world, this is proclaimed, " Prepare ye the
way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a high-way
for our God," Isa. xl. 3. And again, Isa. lvii. 14. " Cast
ye up, cast ye up; prepare the way; take up the stum
bling-block out of the way of my people." And, chap.
lxii. 10. " Go through, go through the gates ; prepare you
the way ofthe people; cast up, cast up the highway;
gather out the stones."
And, in order to this, there must be a great deal done at
confessing of faults, on both sides. For undoubtedly many
and great are the faults that have been committed, in the
jangling and confusions, and mixtures of light and dark
ness, that have been of late. There is hardly any duty
more contrary to our corrupt dispositions, and mortifying
to the pride of man ; but it must be done. Repentance of
faults is, in a peculiar manner, a proper duty, when the
kingdom of heaven is at hand, or when we especially ex
pect or desire that it should come ; as appears by John the
Baptist's preaching. And if God does now loudly call
upon us to repent, then he also calls upon us to make
proper manifestations of our repentance. I am persuaded
that those who have openly opposed this work, or have
from time to time spoken lightly of it, cannot be excused
in the sight of God, without openly confessing their fault
therein ; especially ministers. If they have any way, either
directly or indirectly, opposed the work, or have so be
haved, in their public performances or private conversation,
as to prejudice the minds of their people against the work ;
if hereafter they shall be convinced of the goodness and
divinity of what they have opposed, they ought by no
means to palliate the matter, or excuse themselves, and
pretend that they always thought so, and that it was only
such and such imprudences that they objected against.
But they ought openly to declare their conviction, and
condemn themselves for what they have done ; for it is
Christ that they have spoken against, in speaking lightly of
and prejudicing others against this work ; yea, it is the
Holy Ghost. And though they have done it ignorantly
and in unbelief, yet, when they find out who it is that they
have opposed, undoubtedly God will hold them bound
publicly to confess it.
And on the other side, if those who have been zealous to
promote the work have in any of the fore-mentioned in
stances openly gone much out of the way, and done that
which is contrary to christian rules, whereby they have
openly injured otoers, or greatly violated good order, and
so done that which has wounded religion, they must pub
licly confess it, and humble themselves ; as they would
gather out the stones, and prepare the way of God's peo

ple. They who have laid great stumbling-blocks in others'
way, by their open transgression, are bound to remove them
by their open repentance.
Some probabiy will be ready to object against this, that
the opposers will take advantage by this to behave them
selves insolently, and to insult both them and religion.
And indeed, to the shame of some, they have taken ad
vantage by such things ; as of the good spirit that Mr.
Whitfield showed in his retractations, and some others.
But if there are some imbittered enemies of religion, that
stand ready to improve every thing to its disadvantage, yet
that ought not to hinder doing an enjoined christian
duty ; though it be in the manifestation of humility and
repentance, after a fault openly committed. To stand it
out, in a visible impenitence of a real fault, to avoid such
an inconvenience, is to do evil in order to prevent evil.
Besides, the danger of evil consequence is much greater
on the other side : to commit sin, and then stand in it, is
what will give the enemy the greatest advantage. For
Christians to act like Christians, ir. openly humbling
themselves when they have openly offended, in the end
brings the greatest honour to Christ and religion ; and
in this way are persons most likely to have God appear for
them. Again, at such a day as this, God especially calls his
people to the exercise of extraordinary meekness and mu
tual forbearance. Christ appears as it were coming in his
kingdom, which calls for great moderation in our behavi
our towards all men ; Phil. iv. 5. " Let your moderation be
known unto all men : The Lord is at hand." The awe of
the Divine Majesty, that appears present or approaching,
should dispose us to it, and deter us from the contrary.
For us to be judging one another, and behaving with fierce
ness and bitterness one towards another, when he who is
the searcher of all hearts, to whom we must all give an
account, appears so remarkably present, is exceeding un
suitable. Our business at such a time should be at home,
searching and condemning ourselves, and taking heed to
our own behaviour. If there be glorious prospenty to the
church of God approaching, those that are the most meek
will have the largest share in it. For, when Christ " rides
forth in his glory and his majesty," it is " because of truth,
meekness, and righteousness," Psal. xiv. 3, 4. and, when
God remarkably " arises to execute judgment," it is " to
save all the meek of the earth," Psal. lxxvi. 9. and it is
" the meek" that " shall increase their joy in the Lord,"
Isa. xxix. 19. And, when the time comes that God will
give this lower world into the hands of his saints, it is " the
meek that shall inherit the earth." Psal. xxxvii. 11. and
Matt. v. 9. " But with the froward, God will show him
self unsavoury."
Those therefore that have been zealous for this work, and
have greatly erred and been injurious with their zeal, ought
not to be treated wito bitterness. There is abundant
reason to think, that most of them are the dear children of
God, for whom Christ died ; and therefore that they will
see their error. As to those things, wherein we see toem
to be in an error, we have reason to say of them as the
apostle, Phil. iii. 15. " If any are otherwise minded, God
shall reveal this unto them." Their errors should not be
made use of to excite indignation towards them, but should
influence all who hope we are the children of God, to
humble ourselves, and become more entirely dependent on
the Lord Jesus Christ, when we see those who are God's
own people so ready to go astray. And those ministers
who _iave been judged, and injunously dealt with, will do
the part of Christ's disciples, not to judge and revile
again, but to receive such injuries with meekness and
forbearance, and making a good improvement of them,
more strictly examining their hearts and ways, and com
mitting toemselves to God. This will be the way to have

422

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part V.

God vindicate toem in his providence, if they belong to
him. W7e have not yet seen the end of things ; nor do
we know who will be most vindicated, and honoured of
God, in toe issue. Eccl. vii. 8. " Better is the end of a
thing, than the beginning thereof ; and the patient in spirit
is better than toe proud in spirit." — Contrary to this mutual
meekness, is each party's stigmatizing one another with
odious names, as is done in many parts of New England;
which tends greatly to widen and perpetuate the breach.
Such distinguishing names of reproach do as it were divide
us into two armies, separated, and drawn up in battle-
array ; which greatly hinders the work of God.
And as such an extraordinary time as this does especi
ally require of us the exercise of great forbearance one
towards another ; so there is peculiarly requisite in God's
people toe exercise of great patience, in waiting on God,
under any special difficulties and disadvantages they may
be under as to the means of grace. The beginning of a
revival of religion will naturally and necessarily be at
tended with a gi'eat many difficulties of this nature ; many
parts of the reviving church will, for a while, be under
treat disadvantages, by reason of what remains of the old
isease, of a general corruption of the visible church. We
cannot expect toat, after a long time of degeneracy and
depravity in the state of things in the church, all should
come to rights at once ; it must be a work of time. And
for God's people to be over-hasty and violent, in such a
case, being resolved to have every thing rectified at once,
or else forcibly to deliver themselves by breaches and
separations, is the way to hinder things coming to rights
as they otherwise would. It is the way to keep them back,
and to break all in pieces. Indeed the difficulty may be
so intolerable as to allow of no delay, and God's people
cannot continue in the state wherein they were, without
violations of God's absolute commands : but otherwise,
though the difficulty may be very great, another course
should be taken. God's people should have recourse
directly to the throne of grace, to represent their difficul
ties before the great Shepherd of the sheep, who has the
care of all the affairs of his church ; and, when they have
done, they should wait patiently upon him. If they do
so, they may expect that in his time he will appear for
their deliverance : but if, instead of that, they are impa
tient, and take the work into their own hands, they will
betray their want of faith, will dishonour God, and have
reason to fear that he will leave them to manage their
affairs for toemselves as well as they can. If they had
waited on Christ patiently, continuing still instant in
prayer, they might have had him appearing for them,
much more effectually to deliver them. He that believeth
shall not make haste. And it is for those that are found
patiently waiting on the Lord, under difficulties, that he
will especially appear, when he comes to do great things
for his church ; as is evident by Isa. xxx. 18. chap. xl.
at the latter end, and xlix. 23. and Psal. xxxvii. 9. and
many other places.
I have somewhere, not long since, met with an exposi
tion of those words of the spouse, several times repeated
in the book of Canticles, I charge you, O daughters of
Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he
please. It was the only satisfying exposition that ever I
met wito, and was to this purpose, vi:. That when the
church of God is under great difficulties, and in distress,
and Christ does not appear for her help, but seems to
neglect her, as though he were asleep, God's people, or the
daughters of Jerusalem, in such a case, should not show
a hasty spirit, and, not having patience to wait for Christ
to awake for their help till his time comes, take indirect
courses for their own deliverance, and use violent means
for their escape, before Christ appears to open the door for
them ; and so, as it were, stir up, and awake Christ, before
his time. When the church is in distress, and God seems
not to appear for her in his providence, he is very often
represented in Scripture as being asleep ; as Christ was
asleep in the ship, when the disciples were tossed by the
storm, and the ship covered with waves. And God's
appearing for his people's help, is represented as his
awaking out of sleep, Psal. vii. 6. xxxv. 23. xliv. 23. lix.
4. lxxiii. 20. Christ has an appointed time for his thus
awaking out of sleep ; and his people ought to wait upon

him, and not, in an impatient fit, stir him up before his
time. It is worthy to be observed, how strict this charge
is given to the daughters of Jerusalem; it is repeated
three times over in the book of Canticles, chap- ii- 7. — iii,
5.— viii. 4. In the 2d chapter and six first verses, are
represented the support Christ gives his church, while she
is in a suffering state, as the lily among thorns. In the 7th
verse is represented her patience in waiting for Christ, to
appear for her deliverance, when she charges the daughters
of Jerusalem not to stir up, nor awake her love till he
please, by the roes, and the hinds of the field ; which are
creatures of a gentle, harmless nature. They are not
beasts of prey, do not devour one another, do not fight
wito their enemies, but flee from them ; and are of a
pleasant loving nature, Prov. v. 19. In the next verse,
we see the church's success, in this way of waiting under
sufferings, with meekness and patience ; Christ soon
awakes, speedily appears, and swiftly comes ; " The voice
of my beloved ! Behold, he cometh, leaping upon the
mountains, skipping upon the hills !"

SECT. II.
What must be done more directly to advance this work.
What has been mentioned hitherto, has relation to the
behaviour we are obliged to, as we would prevent toe
hinderances of the work ; but, besides these, there are
things that must be done, more directly to advance it. And
here it concerns every one, in the first place, to look into
his own heart, and see to it that he be a partaker of the
benefits of the work himself, and that it be promoted in
his own soul. Now is a most glorious opportunity for the
good of souls. It is manifestly with respect to a time of
great revival of religion in the world, that we have toat
gracious, earnest, and moving invitation proclaimed in the
55th of Isa. " Ho, every one that thirsteth," &c. as is evi
dent by the foregoing chapter, and what follows in the
close of this. In the 6th verse, it is said, " Seek ye the
Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is
near." And it is with special reference to such a time,
that Christ proclaims as he does, Rev. xxi. 6. " I will give
unto him that is athirst, of the fountain of the water of
life freely." And chap. xxii. 17. " And the Spirit and the
bride say, Come ; and let him that heareth say, Come ;
and let him that is athirst come : and whosoever will, let
him take the water of life freely." And it seems to be
with reference to such a time, which is typified by the
Jeast of tabernacles, that Jesus, at that feast, stood and
cried, as we have an account, John vii. 37, 38. " In the
last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried,
saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.
He that believeth ou me, out of his belly shall flow rivers
of living water." And it is with special reference to God's
freeness and readiness to bestow grace at such a time, that
it is said in Isa. Ix. 11. of the spiritual Jerusalem, " Thy
gates shall be open continually, they shall not be shut
day nor night."
And though I judge not those who have opposed this
work, and would not have others judge them, yet, if any
such shall happen to read this treatise, I would take the
liberty to entreat them to leave off troubling themselves so
much about others, and to look into their own souls, and
see to it that they are the subjects of a true, saving work of
the Spirit of God. — If they have reason to think they never
have been, or if it be but a very doubtful hope that they
have, then how can they have any heart to be fiercely en
gaged about the mistakes and the supposed false hopes of
others ? And I would now beseech those who have hi
therto been somewhat inclining to Arminian principles
seriously to weigh the matter with respect to this work
and consider, whether, if the Scriptures are the word of
God, the work that has been described in the first part of
this treatise must not be, as to the substance of it the
work of God, and the flourishing of that religion which is
taught by Christ and his apostles. Can any good medium
be found, where a man can rest with any stability, between
owning this work, and being a deist ? If indeed this be
the work of God, does it not entirely overthrow their

Sect. II.

WHAT SHOULD BE DONE TO ADVANCE IT.

423

scheme of religion ; and does it not infinitely concern them,
as they would be partakers of eternal salvation, to relin
quish their scheme ? Now is a good time for Arminians
to change toeir principles. I would now, as one of the
friends of this work, humbly invite them to come and join
with us, and be on our side ; and, if I had the authority
of Moses, I would say to them as he did to Hobab, Num.
x. 29. " We are journeying unto the place, of which the
Lord said, I will give it you ; come thou with us, and we
will do thee good : for the Lord hath spoken good con
cerning Israel."
As the benefit and advantage of the good improvement
of such a season is very great, so the danger of neglecting
and misimproving it is proportionably great. It is abun
dantly evident by the Scripture, that as a time of great
outpouring of the Spirit is a time of great favour to those
who are partakers of the blessing, so it is always a time of
remarkable vengeance to others. So in Isa. lxi. 2. what
is called, the acceptable year of the Lord, is also called,
the day of vengeance of our God. So it was amongst the
Jews, in' the apostles days. The apostle in 2 Cor. vi. 2.
says of that time, that it was the accepted time, and day of
salvation ; and Christ says ofthe same time, Luke xxi. 22.
" These are the days of vengeance." While the blessings
of the kingdom of heaven were given to some, there was
an axe laid at the root of the trees, that those that did not
bear fruit, might be hewn down, and cast into the fire,
Matt. iii. 9—11. Then was glorified both the goodness
and severity of God, in a remarkable manner, Rom. xi.
22. The harvest and the vintage go together : at the same
time that the earth is reaped, and God's elect are gathered
into his garner, " the angel that has power over fire, thrusts
in his sickle, and gathers the cluster of the vine of the
earth, and casts it into the great wine-press of the wrath of
God," Rev. xiv. So it is foretold, in reference to the begin
ning of the glorious times of the christian church, that as
" the hand of the Lord is known towards his servants, so
shall his indignation be towards his enemies," Isa. lxvi. 14.
So when that glorious morning shall appear, wherein " the
Sun of righteousness shall arise to the elect with healing in
his wings, the dav shall burn as an oven to the wicked,"
Mai. iv. 1 — 3. There is no time like it for the increase of
guilt, and treasuring up wrath, and desperate hardening
of the heart, if men stand it out ; which is the most awful
judgment, and fruit of divine wrath, that can be inflicted
on any mortal. So that a time of great grace, and the
fruits of divine mercy, is evermore also a time of divine
vengeance, on those that neglect and misimprove such a
season. The state of the present revival of religion has an awful
aspect upon those that are advanced in years. The work
has been chiefly amongst the young ; and comparatively
but few others have been made partakers of it. And in
deed it has commonly been so, when God has begun any
great work for toe revival of his church ; he has taken the
young people, and has cast off the old and stiff-necked
generation. There was a remarkable outpouring of the
Spirit of God on the children of Israel in the wilderness,
but chiefly on the younger generation, their little ones, that
they said should be a prey, the generation that entered into
Canaan with Joshua. That generation seems to have been
the most excellent that ever was in the church of Israel,
There is no generation, of which there is so much good,
and so little evil, spoken in Scripture, as might be shown.
In that generation, such as were under twenty years when
they went out of Egypt, was that kindness of youth, and
love of espousals, spoken of, Jer. ii. 2, 3. But the old
generation were passed by ; they remained obstinate and
stiff-necked, were always murmuring, and would not be
convinced by all God's wondrous works that they beheld.
God by his awful judgments executed in the wilderness,
and the affliction which the people suffered there, con
vinced and humbled the younger generation, and fitted
them for great mercy ; as is evident by Deut. ii. 16. but
he destroyed the old generation ; " he swore in his wrath
that they should not enter into his rest, and their carcasses
fell in the wilderness." When it was a time of great
mercy, and of God's Spirit on their children, it was re
markably a day of vengeance unto them ; as appears by
the 90th Psalm. Let the old generation in this land take

warning from hence, and take heed that they do not refuse
to be convinced by all God's wonders that lie works before
their eyes, and that they do not continue for ever objecting,
murmuring, and cavilling against the work of God, lest,
while he is bringing their children into a land flowing with
milk and honey, be should swear in his wrath concerning
them, that their carcasses shall fall in the wilderness.
So when God had a design of great mercy to the Jews,
in bringing them out of the Babylonish captivity, and re
turning them to their own land, there was a blessed out
pouring of the Spirit upon them in Babylon, to bring them
to deep conviction and repentance, and to cry earnestly to
God for mercy ; which is often spoken of by the prophets.
But it was not upon the old generation, that were carried
captive. The captivity continued just long enough for that
perverse generation to waste away and die in their captivity,
at least those of them that were adult persons when carried
captive. The heads of families were exceeding obstinate,
and would not hearken to the earnest repeated warnings
of the prophet Jeremiah ; but he had greater success among
the young people; as appears by Jer. vi. 10, 11. "To
whom shall I speak and give warning, that they may hear ?
Behold, their ear is uncircumcised, and they cannot
hearken : behold, the word of the Lord is unto them a
reproach; they have no delight in it. Therefore I am full
of the fury of the Lord ; I am weary with holding in : I
will pour it out upon the children abroad, and upon the
assembly of the young men together : for even the hus-
' band with the wife (i. e. the heads of families, and parents
of these children) shall be taken, the aged, with him that
is full of days." Blessed be God! there are some of the
elder people that have been made partakers of this work.
And those that are most awakened by these warnings of
pod's word, and the awful frowns of his providence, will
be most likely to be made partakers hereafter. It infinitely
concerns them to take heed to themselves, that they may
be partakers of it ; for how dreadful will it be to go to hell,
after having spent so many years in doing nothing but
treasuring up wrath !
But above all otoers does it concern us who are minis
ters, to see to it toat we have experience of the saving
operations of the same Spirit that is now poured out on
the land. How sorrowful and melancholy is the case,
when it is otherwise ! For one to stand at the head of
a congregation of God's people, as representing Christ and
speaking in his stead ; and to act the part of a shepherd
and guide to a people in such a state of things, when
many are under great awakenings, many are converted,
and many of God s saints are filled with divine light, love,
and joy : to undertake to instruct and lead them all under
these various circumstances ; to be put to it continually to
play the hypocrite, and force the airs of a saint in preach
ing ; and from time to time in private conversation, and
particular dealing with souls, to undertake to judge of their
circumstances : to try to talk with persons of experience,
as if he knew how to converse with them, and had experi
ence as well as they ; to make others believe that he re
joices when others are converted ; and to force a pleased
and joyful countenance and manner of speech, when there
is nothing in the heart : what sorrowful work is here ! Oh
how miserable must such a person feel ! What a wretched
bondage and slavery is this ! What pains, and how much
art, must such a minister use to conceal himself ! And how
weak are his hands ! What infinite provocation of the
most high God, and displeasure of his Lord and Master,
he incurs, by continuing a secret enemy to him in his
heart, in such circumstances ! I think there is a great deal
of reason from the Scripture to conclude, that no sort of
men in the world will be so low in hell as ungodly minis
ters. Every thing spoken of in Scripture, as that which
aggravates guilt, and heightens divine wrath, meets in
them. And what great disadvantages are unconverted
ministers under, to oppose any irregularities, imprudences,
or intemperate zeal, which they may see in those who are
the children of God, when they are conscious to toem
selves that they have no zeal at all ! If enthusiasm and
wildness comes in like a flood, what poor, weak instru
ments are such ministers to withstand it ! With what
courage can toey open their mouths, when toey look in
ward, and consider how it is with them !

424

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part V.

We who are ministers, not only have need of some true
experience of the saving influence of toe Spirit of God
upon our heart, but we need a double portion at such a
time as this. We need to be as full of light as a glass that
is held out in the sun ; and, with respect to love and zeal,
we need to be like toe angels, who are a flame of fire. The
state ofthe times extremely requires a fulness of the divine
spirit in ministers, and we ought to give ourselves no rest
till we have obtained it. And, in order to this, I should
think ministers, above all persons, ought to be much in
?rayer and fasting, both in secret and one with another.
t seems to me, that it would become the circumstances of
the present day, if ministers in a neighbourhood would
often meet together, and spend days in fasting and fervent
prayer among themselves, earnestly seeking extraordinary
supplies of divine grace from heaven. And how desirable
that, on their occasional visits one to another, instead of
spending away their time in sitting and smoking, in
diverting, or worldly, unprofitable conversation — telling
news, and making their remarks on this and the other
trifling subject — they would spend toeir time in praying
together, singing praises, and religious conference. How
much do many of the common people shame many of us
who are in toe work of the ministry, in these respects !
Surely we do not behave ourselves so much like christian
ministers, and the disciples and ambassadors of Christ, as
we ought to do. And, while we condemn zealous persons
for censuring ministers at this day, it ought not to be with
out deep reflections upon, and great condemnation of, our
selves ; for indeed we do very much to provoke censorious-
ness, and lay a great temptation before otoers to toe sin of
judging. And if we can prove that those who are guilty
of it transgress the scripture-rule, our indignation should
be chiefly against ourselves.
Ministers, at this day in a special manner, should act
as fellow-helpers in their great work. It should be seen
that they are animated and engaged, that they exert them
selves with onp heart and soul, and with united strength, to
promote the present glorious revival of religion ; and to
that end should often meet together, and act in concert.
And if it were a common thing in toe country, for minis
ters to join in public exercises, and second one another in
their preaching, I believe it would be of great service. I
mean that ministers having consulted one another as to
their subjects before toey go to the house of God, should
there (two or three of toem) in short discourses earnestly
enforce each other's warnings and counsels. Such ap
pearance of united zeal in ministers would have a great
tendency to awaken attention, and to impress and animate
the hearers; as has been found by experience in some
parts of the country. — Ministers should carefully avoid
weakening one another's hands : and therefore every thing
should be avoided, by which their interest with their people
might be diminished, or their union with them broken.
Therefore, if ministers have not forfeited their acceptance
in that character in toe visible church, by toeir doctrine or
behaviour, toeir brethren in toe ministry ought studiously
to endeavour to heighten the esteem and affection of toeir
people towards them, toat they may have no temptation to
repent their admitting other ministers to preach in their
pulpits. Two things exceeding needful in ministers, as they
would do any great matters to advance the kingdom of
Christ, are zeal and resolution. Their influence and
power, to bring to pass great effects, is greater than can
well be imagined. A man of but an ordinary capacity
will do more with them, than one of ten times the parts
and learning without toem ; more may be done with them
in a few days, or at least weeks, than can be done without
them in many years. Those who are possessed of these
qualities commonly carry the day, in almost all affairs.
Most of the great things that have been done in toe world,
the great revolutions that have been accomplished in the
kingdoms and empires of the earth, have been chiefly
owing to toem. The very appearance of a thoroughly
•engaged spirit, together with a fearless courage and un
yielding resolution, in any person that has undertaken the
managing of any affair amongst mankind, goes a great way
towards accomplishing the effect aimed at. It is evident
that the appearance of these in Alexander did three times

as much towards conquering the world, as all the blows
that he struck. And how much were the great things that
Oliver Cromwell did owing to these ! And the great
things that Mr. Whitfield has done, every where, as he
has run through the British dominions, (so far as they are
owing to means,) are very much owing to the appearance
of these things which he is eminently possessed of. When
the people see these in a person, to a great degree, it awes
them, and has a commanding influence upon their minds.
It seems to them that they must yield ; they naturally fall
before them, without standing to contest or dispute the
matter ; toey are conquered as it were by surprise. But
while we are cold and heartless, and only go on in a dull
manner, in an old formal round, we shall never do any
great matters. Our attempts, with the appearance of such
coldness and irresolution, will not so much as make per
sons think of yielding. They will hardly be sufficient to
put it into their minds ; and if it be put into their minds,
toe appearance of such indifference and cowardice does as
it were call for and provoke opposition. — Our misery is
want of zeal and courage ; for not only through want of
them does all fail that we seem to attempt, but it prevents
our attempting any thing very remarkable for the kingdom
of Christ. Hence oftentimes, when any thing very eon- .
siderable is proposed to be done for toe advancement of
religion or the public good, many difficulties are in the
way, and a great many objections are started, and it may
be it is put off from one to another ; but nobody does any
thing. And after this manner good designs or proposals
have often failed, and have sunk as soon as proposed.
Whereas, if we had but Mr. Whitfield's zeal and courage,
what could not we do, with such a blessing as we wight
expect !
Zeal and courage will do much in persons of but an
ordinary capacity; but especially would they do great
things, if joined with great abilities. If some great men
who have appeared in our nation, had been as eminent m
divinity as they were in philosophy, and had engaged in the
christian cause with as much zeal and fervour as some
others have done, and with a proportional blessing of
heaven, they would have conquered all Christendom, and
turned the world upside down. We have many ministers
in the land that do not want abilities, they are persons of
bright parts and learning ; they should consider how much
is expected and will be required of them by their Lord and
Master, how much they might do for Christ, and what great
honour and glorious a reward they might receive, if they
bad in toeir hearts a heavenly warmth, and divine heat
proportionable to their light.
With respect to candidates for the ministry, I will not
undertake particularly to determine what kind of exami
nation or trial they should pass under, in order to their ad
mission to that sacred work. But I think this is evident
from the Scripture, that another sort of trial with regard to
their virtue and piety is requisite, than is required in order
to persons being admitted into the visible church. The
apostle directs, that hands be laid suddenly on no man ; but
that they should first be tried, before they are admitted to
the work ofthe ministry ; but it is evident that persons were
suddenly admitted by baptism into the visible church, on
profession of their faith in Christ, without such caution or
strictness in their probation. And it seems to me, those
would act very unadvisedly, that should enter on that
great and sacred work, before they had comfortable satis
faction concerning themselves, that they have had a saving
work of God on their souls.
And though it may be thought that I go out of mv pro
per sphere, to intermeddle in the affairs of the colleges ;
yet I will take the liberty of an Englishman that speaks
his mind freely concerning public affairs, and the liberty of
a minister of Christ, (who doubtless may speak his mind
as freely about things that concern the' kingdom of his
Lord and Master,) to give my opinion, in some things,
with respect to those societies ; the original and main de
sign of which is to train up persons, and fit them for the
work of the ministry. And I would say in general, that it
appears to me care should be taken, some way or other,
that those societies should be so regulated, that they should,
in fact, be nurseries of piety. Otherwise they are funda
mentally ruined and undone as to their main design and

Sect. II.

WHAT SHOULD BE DONE TO ADVANCE IT.

425

most essential end. They ought to be so constituted, that
vice and idleness should have no living there. They are
intolerable in societies, whose main design is, to train up
youth in christian knowledge and eminent piety, to fit
them to be pastors of the flock of the blessed Jesus. I
have heretofore had some acquaintance with the affairs of a
college, and experience of what belonged to its tuition and
government ; and I cannot but think that it is practicable
enough, so to constitute such societies, that there should
be no residing there, without being virtuous, serious, and
diligent. It seems to me a reproach to the land, that ever
it should be so with our colleges, that, instead of being
places of the greatest advantages for true piety, one cannot
send a child thither without great danger of his being in
fected as to his morals. It is perfectly intolerable ; and any
thing should be done, rather than it should be so. If we
pretend to have any colleges at all, under any notion of
training up youth for the ministry, there should be some
way found out, that should certainly prevent its being
thus. To have societies for bringing persons up to be am
bassadors of Jesus Christ, and to lead souls to heaven,
and to have them places of so much infection, is the great
est nonsense and absurdity imaginable.
And as thorough and effectual care should be taken that
vice and idleness oe not tolerated in these societies, so cer
tainly their design requires that extraordinary means should
be used in them for training up the students in vital reli
gion, and experimental and practical godliness ; so that
they should be holy societies, the very place should be as
it were sacred. They should be, in the midst of the land,
fountains of piety and holiness. There is a great deal of
pains taken to teach the scholars human learning ; there
ought to be as much and more care thoroughly to educate
them in religion, ana lead them to true and eminent holi
ness. If the main design of these nurseries is to bring up
persons to teach Christ, then it is of the greatest import
ance that there should be care and pains taken to bring
those who are there educated to the knowledge of Christ.
It has been common in our public prayers, to call these
societies, the schools of the prophets; and, if they are
schools to train up young men to be prophets, certainly
there ought to be extraordinary care taken to train them up
to be Christians. — And I cannot see why it is not on all
accounts fit and convenient for the governors and in
structors of the colleges particularly, singly, and frequently,
to converse with the students about the state of their souls ;
as is the practice of the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, one of the
most noted of the present dissenting ministers in England,
who keeps an academy at Northampton, as he himself informs
the Rev. Mr. Wadsworth of Hartford in Connecticut, in a
letter dated at Northampton, March 6th, 1741. The origi
nal of which letter I have seen, and have by me an extract
of it, sent me by Mr. Wadsworth ; which is as follows :
" Through the divine goodness, I have every year the
pleasure to see some plants taken out of my nursery, and set
in neighbouring congregations ; where they generally settle
with an unanimous consent, and that to a very remarkable
degree, in some very large and once divided congregations.
A circumstance in which I own and adore the hand of a
wise and gracious God ; and cannot but look upon it as a
token for good. I have at present a greater proportion of
pious and ingenious youth under my care, than I ever be
fore had : so that I hope the church may reasonably expect
some considerable relief from hence, if God spare their
lives a few years, and continue to them those gracious
assistances which he has hitherto mercifully imparted. — I
willnot, Sir, trouble you at present with a large account
of my method of academical education : only would ob
serve, that I think it of vast importance to instruct them
carefull v in the Scriptures ; and not only endeavour to
establish them in the great truths of Christianity, but to
labour to promote their practical influence on their hearts.
For which purpose, I frequently converse with each of
them alone, and conclude the conversation with prayer.
This does indeed take up a great deal of time ; but I bless
God, it is amply repaired in the pleasure I have in seeing
my labour is not in vain in the Lord."
There are some who are not ministers, nor are concern
ed immediately in those things that appertain to their
office, or in the education of persons for it, who are under

great advantages to promote such a glorious work as this.
Some laymen, though it be not their business publicly to
exhort and teach, are in some respects under greater advan
tage to encourage and forward this work than ministers; as
particularly great men, or those who are high in honour and
influence. How much might such do to encourage reli
gion, and open the way for it to have free course, and bear
down opposition, if they were but inclined ! There is com
monly a certain unhappy shyness in great men with respect
to religion, as though they were ashamed of it, or at least
ashamed to do much at it ; whereby they dishonour and
doubtless greatly provoke the King of kings, and very much
wound religion among the common people. They are care
ful of their honour, and seem to be afraid of appearing
openly forward and zealous in religion, as though it were
what would debase their character, and expose them to
contempt. — But, in this day of bringing up the ark, they
ought to be like David, that great king of Israel, who
made himself vile before the ark ; and as he was the high
est in honour and dignity among God's people, so he
thought it became him to appear foremost in the zeal and
activity manifested on that occasion ; thereby animating
and encouraging the whole congregation to praise the Lord,
and rejoice before him with all their might. And though
it diminished him in tbe eyes of scoffing Michal, yet it
did not at all abate the honour and esteem of the congre
gation of Israel, but advanced it ; as appears by 2 Sam.
vi. 22.
Rich men have a talent in their hands, in the disposal
and improvement of which they might very much promote
such a work as this, if they were so disposed. They are
far beyond others in advantages to do good, and lay up for
themselves treasures in heaven. What _ thousand pities
it is that, for want of a heart, they commonly have no
share at all there, but heaven is peopled mostly with the
poor of this world ! One would think that our rich men
who call themselves Christians, might devise some notable
things to do with their money, to advance the kingdom of
their professed Redeemer, and the prosperity of the souls
of men, at this time of such extraordinary advantage for it.
It seems to me, that in this age most of us have but very
narrow penurious notions of Christianity, as it respects
our use and disposal of our temporal goods. The primi
tive Christians had not such notions ; they were trained
up by the apostles in another way. — God has greatly dis
tinguished some ofthe inhabitants of New England from
others, in the abundance he has given toem of the good
things of this life. If they could now be persuaded to lay
out some considerable part of that which God has given
them for his honour, and lay it up in heaven, instead of
spending it for their own honour, or laying it up for their
posterity, they would not repent of it afterwards. How
liberally did the heads of the tribes contribute to their
wealth at the setting up the tabernacle, though it was in a
barren wilderness ! These are the days of erecting the
tabernacle of God amongst us. We have a particular ac
count how the goldsmiths and the merchants helped to re
build the wall of Jerusalem, Neh. iii. 32. The days are
coming, and I believe not very far off, when the sons of
" Zion shall come from far, bringing their silver and their
gold with them, unto the name of the Lord their God, and
to the holy One of Israel ;" when the merchants of the
earth shall trade for Christ, more than for themselves, and
" their merchandise and hire shall be holiness to the Lord,
and shall not be treasured or laid up for posterity, but shall
be for them that dwell before the Lord, to eat sufficiently,
and for durable clothing ;" when " the ships of Tarshish
shall bring the wealth of the distant parts of the earth to
the place of God's sanctuary, and to make the place of
his feet glorious; and the abundance of the sea shall be
converted to the use of God's church, and she shall suck
the milk of the Gentiles, and suck the breasts of kings."
The days are coming, when the great and the rich men of
the word " shall bring their honour and glory into the
church," and shall, as it were, strip themselves in order to
spread their garments under Christ's feet, as he enters
triumphantly into Jerusalem ; and when those that will not
do so shall have no glory, and their silver and gold shall
be cankered, and their garments moth-eaten. For the
saints shall then inherit the earth, and they shall reign on

426

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part. V.

it ; and those that honour God he will h6nour, and those
that despise him shall be lightly esteemed. — If some of
our rich men would give one quarter of their estates to
promote this work, they would act a little as if they were
designed for the kingdom of heaven, and as rich men will
act by and by who shall be partakers of the spiritual wealth
and glories of that kingdom.
Great things might be done for the advancement of the
kingdom of Christ at this day by those who have ability,
by establishing funds for the support and propagation of re
ligion; by supporting some who are eminently qualified
with gifts and grace in preaching the gospel in certain parts
of the country, which are more destitute of the means of
grace ; by searching out children of promising abilities, and
their hearts full of love to Christ, but of poor families, (as
doubtless there are such now in the land,) and bringing them
up for the ministry ; and by distributing books, that are
remarkably fitted to promote vital religion, and have a
great tendency to advance this work. — Or if they would
only bear the trouble and expense of sending such books
into various parts of the land to be sold, it might be an oc
casion that ten times so many of those books should be
bought, as otherwise would be — by establishing and sup
porting schools in poor towns and villages ; which might
be done on such a foundation, as not only to bring up
children in common learning, but also might very mucn
tend to their conviction and conversion, and being trained
up in vital piety. Doubtless something might be done
this way in old towns and more populous places, that might
have a great tendency to the flourishing of religion in the
rising generation.

SECT. III.
Of some particulars that concern all in general.
Anp here, the first thing I shall mention is fasting and
prayer. It seems to me, that the circumstances of the
present work loudly call upon God's people to abound in
this ; whether they consider their own experience, or the
riches of God's grace. God has lately given them an ex
perience of the worth of his presence, and of the blessed
fruits of the effusions of his Spirit, to excite them to pray
for the continuance, increase, and greater extent of such
blessings ; and they have great encouragement to pray for
the out-pouring of his Spirit, and the carrying on of this
work, by the great manifestations he has lately made of the
freeness and riches of his grace. There is much in what
we have seen of the glorious works of God's power and
grace, to put us in mind of the yet greater things of this
nature that he has spoken of in his word, and to excite
our longings, and our hopes of their approach. Beside,
we should consider the great opposition that Satan makes
against this work, the many difficulties with which it is
clogged, and the distressing circumstances that some parts
of God's church in this land are under at this day, on one
account and another.
So is God's will, through his wonderful grace, that the
prayers of his saints should be one great and principal
means of carrying on the designs of Christ's kingdom in
the world. W'hen God has something very great to ac
complish for his church, it is his will that there should
precede it the extraordinary prayers of his people ; as is
manifest by Ezek. xxxvi. 37. " I will yet, for this, be in
quired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them :" (see
the context.) And it is revealed that, when God is about
to accomplish great things for his church, he will begin by
remarkably pouring out the spirit of grace and supplication,
Zech. xii. 10. If we are not to expect that the devil should
go out of a particular person, under a bodily possession,
without extraordinary prayer, or prayer and fasting ; how
much less should we expect to have him cast out the land,
and the world, without it !
I am sensible that somewhat considerable has been done
in duties of this nature in some places, but I do not think
so much' as God in the present dispensations of his provi
dence calls for. I should think the people of God in this
land, at such a time as this is, would be in the way of their
duty while doing three times as much at fasting and prayer

as they do ; not only, nor principally, for the pouring out
of the Spirit on those places to which they belong ; but
that God would appear for his church, and, in mercy to
miserable men, carry on his work in the land, and in the
world, and fulfil the things he has spoken of in his word,
that his church has been so long wishing, and hoping, and
waiting for. " They that make mention of the Lord," at
this day, ought not to " keep silence," and should " give God
no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a praise
in the earth ;" agreeable to Isa. lxii. 6, 7. Before the first
great out-pouring of the Spirit of God on the christian
church, which began at Jerusalem, the disciples gave
themselves to incessant prayer, Acts i. 13, 14. There is a
time spoken of, wherein God will remarkably and wonder
fully appear for the deliverance of his church from all her
enemies, and when he will avenge his own elect : and Christ
reveals that this will be in answer to their incessant prayers,
or " crying day and night," Luke xviii. 7. In Israel, the
day of atonement, which was their great day of fasting and
prayer, preceded and made way for the glorious and joyful
feast of tabernacles. When Christ is mystically born into
the world, to rule over all nations, it is represented in the
12th chap, of Rev. as being in consequence of the church's
" crying, and travailing in birth, and being pained to be
delivered." One thing here intended doubtless is, her
crying and agonizing in prayer.
God seems at this very time to be waiting for this from
us. When he is about to bestow some great blessing on
his church, it is often his manner, in the first place, so to
order things in his providence, as to show his church their
great need of it, and to bring them into distress for want
of it, and so put them upon crying earnestly to him for it.
Let us consider God's present dispensations towards his
church in this land : a glorious work of his grace has been
begun and carried on ; and he has of late suffered in
numerable difficulties to arise, that in a great measure clog
and hinder it, and bring many of God's dear children into
great distress. And yet he does not wholly forsake the work
of his hand ; there are remarkable tokens of his presence
still to be seen, here and there ; as though he was not
forward to forsake us, and (if I may so say) as though he
had a mind to carry on his work," but only was waiting
for something that he expected in us, as requisite in order
to it. And we have a great deal of reason to think, that
one thing at least is, that we should further acknowledge
the greatness and necessity of such a mercy, and our de
pendence on God for it, in earnest and importunate prayers
to him. And by the many errors that have been run into,
by toe wounds we have thereby given ourselves and the
cause that we would promote, and the mischief and con
fusion we have thereby made, God has hitherto been re
markably showing us our great and universal dependence
on him, and exceeding need of his help and grace ; which
should engage our cries to him for it.
There is no way that Christians in a private capacity can
do so much to promote the work of God, and advance the
kingdom of Christ, as by prayer. By this even women,
children, and servants may have a public influence. Let
persons in other respects be never so weak, and never so
mean, and under never so poor advantages to do much for
Christ and the souls of men ; yet, if they have much of the
spirit of grace and supplication, in this way they may have
power with him who is infinite in power, and has the go
vernment of the whole world. A poor man in his cottage
may have a blessed influence all over the world. God is,
if I may so say, at toe command of the prayer of faith ;
and in this respect is, as it were, under the power of his
people ; as princes, they have power with God, and pre
vail. Though they may be private persons, their prayers
are put up in the name of a Mediator who is. a public
person, being toe Head of the whole church, and the Lord
of the universe. If they have a great sense of the im
portance of eternal things, and a concern for the precious
souls of men, they need not regret it that they are not
preachers ; they may go in their earnestness and agonies
of soul, and pour out their souls before one who is able
to do all things. Before him they may speak as freely as
ministers ; they have a great High Priest, through whom
they may come boldly at all times, and may vent them
selves before a prayer-hearing Father without restraint.

Sect. III.

SOME THINGS THAT CONCERN ALL.

427

If the people of God at this day, instead of spending
time in fruitless disputing, in talking about opposers,
judging them, and animadverting upon the unreasonable
ness of their talk and behaviour, and its inconsistence
with true experience, would be more silent in this way,
and open their mouths much more before God, and spend
more time in fasting and prayer, they would be more in
the way of a blessing. And if some Christians who have
been complaining of their ministers, and straggling in
vain to deliver toemselves from the difficulties complained
of under their ministry, had said and acted less before
men, and had applied themselves with all their might to
cry to God for their ministers, had as it were risen and
stormed heaven with their humble, fervent, and incessant
prayers for them, they would have been much more in the
way of success.
God in his providence appearing in the present state of
things, does especially call on his people in New England
to be very much in praying to him for the pouring out of
the Spirit upon minister's in the land. For though it is not
for us to determine concerning particular ministers, how
much they have of the Spirit of God ; yet in the general
it is apparent, that there is at this day need of very great
degrees of the presence of God with the ministry in New
England, much greater degrees of it than have hitherto been
granted ; they need it for themselves, and the church of
God stands in extreme need of it.
On days of fasting and prayer, wherein the whole con
gregation is concerned, if the day, besides what is spent
m our families, was not wholly spent in the meeting-house,
but part of it in particular praying companies or societies,
it would have a tendency to animate and engage devotion,
more than if the whole day were ¦ spent in public, where
the people are no way active themselves in the worship,
any otherwise than as they join with the minister. The
inhabitants of many of our towns are now divided into
particular praying societies ; most of the people, young
and old, have voluntarily associated themselves in distinct
companies, for mutual assistance in social worship, in
private houses. What I intend therefore is, that days of
prayer should be spent partly in these distinct praying
companies. Such a method as this, has been several times
proved, viz. In the forenoon, after the duties of the family
and closet, as early as might be, all the people of the
congregation have gathered in their particular religious
societies ; companies of men by themselves, and com
panies of women by themselves ; young men by them
selves, and young women by toemselves ; and companies
of children in all parts of the town by themselves, as
many as were capable of social religious exercises ; the
boys by themselves, and toe girls by themselves : and
about the middle of the day, at an appointed hour, all
have met together in the house of God, to offer up public
prayers, and to hear a sermon suitable to the occasion ;
and then, toey have retired from the house of God again
into their private societies, and spent the remaining part
of the day in praying together there, excepting so much as
was requisite for the duties ofthe family and closet in their
own houses. — And it has been found to be of great benefit,
to assist and engage toe minds of the people in the duties
of the day.
I have often thought it would be very desirable, and
very likely to be followed wito a great blessing, if there
could be some contrivance for an agreement of all God's
people in America, who are well-affected to this work, to
deep a day of fasting and prayer ; wherein we should all
unite on the same day, in humbling ourselves before God
for our past long-continued lukewarmness and unprofit
ableness ; not omitting humiliation for the errors that so
many of God's people — though zealously affected towards
this work — through toeir infirmity and remaining blindness
and corruption have run into : and together with thanks
givings to God for so glorious and wonderful a display of
his power and grace in the late out-pourings of his Spirit,
to address the Father of mercies, with prayers and sup
plications, anr? earnest cries, that he would guide and direct
his own people, and that he would continue and still carry
on this work, and more abundantly and extensively pour
out his Spirit, and particularly upon ministers ; and that
he would bow the heavens and come down, and erect his

glorious kingdom through the earth. — Some perhaps may
think that its being all on the same day, is a circumstance
of no great consequence ; but I cannot be of that mind.
Such a circumstance makes the union and agreement of
God's people in his worship toe more visible, and puts the
greater honour upon God, and would have a great tendency
to assist and enliven toe devotions of Christians. It
seems to me, it would mightily encourage and animate
God's saints in humbly and earnestly seeking to God for
such blessings which concern them ail ; and that it would
be much for the rejoicing of all, to think, that at toe same
time such multitudes of God's dear children, far and near,
were sending up their cries to the same common Father,
for the same mercies. Christ speaks of agreement in ask
ing, as what contributes to the prevalence of the prayers of
his people, Matt, xviii. 19. "Again I say unto you, that
if any two of you shall agree on earth, as touching any
thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my
Father which is in heaven." If the agreement, or united
purpose and appointment, of but two of God's children,
would contribute much to the prevalence of their prayers ;
how much more the agreement of so many thousands !
Christ delights greatly in the union of his people, as ap
pears by his prayer in the 1 7th of John ; and especially
is the appearance of toeir union in worship lovely and at
tractive unto him.
I doubt not but such a thing as I have now mentioned
is practicable without a great deal of trouble. Some con
siderable number of ministers might meet together, and
draw up the proposal, wherein a certain day should be
fixed at a sufficient distance, endeavouring therein to avoid
any other public day that might interfere with the design
in any of the provinces, and the business of the day
should be particularly mentioned. These proposals should
be published, and sent abroad into all parts, with a desire,
that as many ministers as are disposed to fall in with them,
would propose the matter to their congregations, and,
having taken their consent, would subscribe their names,
together with the places of which they are ministers, and
send back the proposals thus subscribed to the printer.
The hands of many ministers might be to one paper. The
printer having received the papers, thus subscribed, from
all toe provinces, might print the proposals again, wito all
the names ; thus they might be sent abroad again with the
names, that God's people might know who are united with
them in the affair. One of the ministers of Boston might
be desired to have the oversight of printing and dispersing
the proposals. In such a way, perhaps, might be fulfilled,
in some measure, such a general mourning and supplica
tion of God's people as is spoken of, Zech. xii. at the lat
ter end, with which the church's glorious day is to be in
troduced. — And such a day might be something like the
day of atonement in Israel, before thejoyful/easf of taber
nacles. One thing more I would mention concerning fasting and
prayer, wherein I think there has been a neglect in minis
ters ; and that is, That although they recommend and much
insist on the duty of secret prayer, in their preaching, so
little is said about secret fasting. It is a duty recom
mended by our Saviour to his followers, just in like man
ner as secret prayer is ; as mav be seen by comparing Matt.
vi. 5, 6, with ver. 16 — 18. Though I do not suppose that
secret fasting is to be practised in a stated manner, and
steady course, like secret prayer ; vet it seems to me a duty
that all professing Christians should practise, and fre
quently practise. There are many occasions, of both a
spiritual and temporal nature, that properly require it ; and
there are many particular mercies we desire for ourselves
or friends, that it would be proper in this manner to seek
of God.
Another thing I would also mention, wherein it appears
to me that there has been an omission, wito respect to the
external worship of God. There has been of late a great
increase of preaching the word, of social prayer, and of
singing praises. These external duties of religion are at
tended much more frequently than they used to be; yet I
cannot understand that there is any increase of the ad
ministration of the Lord's supper, or that God's people do
any more frequently commemorate the dying love of their
Redeemer, in this sacred memorial of it, than they used to

428

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part V.

do. I do not see why an increase of love to Christ should
not dispose Christians as much to increase in this as in
those other duties ; or why it is not as proper that Christ's
disciples should abound in this duty, in this joyful season,
which is spiritually supper-time, a feast-day with God's
saints, wherein Christ is so abundantly manifesting his
dying love to souls, and is dealing forth so liberally of the
precious fruits of his death. It seems plain by tbe Scrip
ture, that the primitive Christians were wont to celebrate
this memorial of the sufferings of their dear Redeemer
every Lord's day ; and so I believe it will be again in the
church of Christ, in days that are approaching. And
whether we attend this holy and sweet ordinance so often
now, or no; yet I cannot but think it would become us,
at such a time as this, to attend it much oftener than is com
monly done in the land.
But another thing I would mention, which it is of much
greater importance that we should attend to, and that is the
duty incumbent upon God's people at this day, to take
heed, that while they abound in external duties of devo
tion, such as praying, hearing, singing, and attending re
ligious meetings, there be a proportionable care to abound
in moral duties, such as acts of righteousness, truth, meek
ness, forgiveness, and love towards our neighbour ; which
are of much greater importance in the sight of God than
all the externals of his worship. Our Saviour was par
ticularly careful that men should be well aware of this,
Matt. ix. 13. " But go ye and learn what that mean-
eth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." And chap. xii.
7. " But if ye had known what this meaneth, I will have
mercy and not sacrifice, ye would not have condemned the
guiltless." The internal acts and principles ofthe worship of God,
or the worship of the heart, in love and fear, trust in God,
and resignation to him, &c. are the most essential and im
portant of all duties of religion whatsoever ; for therein
consists the essence of all religion. But of this inward
religion there are two sorts of external manifestations or
expressions. To one sort belong outward acts of worship,
such as meeting in religious assemblies, attending sacra
ments and other outward institutions, honouring God with
gestures, such as bowing, or kneeling before him, or with
words, in speaking honourably of him in prayer, praise, or
religious conference. To the other sort belong expressions
of our love to God, by obeying his moral commands, self-
denial, righteousness, meekness, and christian love, in our
behaviour among men. The latter are of vastly the great
est importance in the christian life ; God makes little ac
count of the former, in comparison of them ; they are
abundantly more insisted on, by the prophets of the Old
Testament, and Christ and his apostles in the New. When
these two kinds of duties are spoken of together, the latter
are evermore greatly preferred; as in Isa. i. 12 — 18. and
Amos v. 21, &c. and Mic. vi. 7, 8. and Isa. lviii. 5, 6, 7.
and Zech. vii. ten first verses, and Jer. ii. seven first verses,
and Matt. xv. 3, &c. Often, when the times were very
corrupt in Israel, the people abounded in the former kind
of duties, but were at such times always notoriously de
ficient in the latter ; as the prophets complain, Isa. lviii.
four first verses, Jer. vi. 13, compared with ver. 20. hypo
crites and self-righteous persons do much more commonly
abound in the former kind of duties than the latter ; as
Christ remarks of the Pharisees, Matt, xxiii. 14, 25 — 34.
When tbe Scripture directs us to show our faith by our
works, it is principally the latter sort are intended ; as ap
pears by Jam. ii. from ver. 8, to the end, and 1 John 2d
chap. ver. 3, 7 — 11. And we are to be judged, at the last
day, especially by these latter sort of works ; as is evident
by the account we have ofthe day of judgment, in the 25th
of Matt. External acts of worship, in words and gestures,
and outward forms, are of little use, but as signs of some
thing else, or as they are a profession of inward worship.
They are not so properly showing ourreligion by our deeds ;
for they are only showing our religion by words, or an
outward profession. But he that shows religion in the
other sort of duties, shows it in something more than a
profession of words, he shows it in deeds. And though
deeds may be hypocritical, as well as words ; yet in them
selves they are of greater importance, for they are much
more profitable to ourselves and our neighbour. Wre can

not express our love to God by doing any thing that is
profitable to him ; God would therefore have us do it in
those things that are profitable to our neighbours, whom
he has constituted his receivers. Our goodness extends
not to God, but to our fellow-Christians. The latter sort of
duties put greater honour upon God, because there is
greater self-denial in them. The external acts of worship,
consisting in bodily gestures, words, and sounds, are the
cheapest part of religion, and least contrary to our lusts.
The difficulty of thorough, external religion, does not lie in
them. Let wicked men enjoy their covetousness, their
pride, their malice, envy, and revenge, their sensuality and
voluptuousness, in their behaviour amongst men, and they
will be willing to compound the matter with God, and
submit to what forms of worship you please, and as many
as you please. This was manifest in the Jews in the days
of the prophets, the Pharisees in Christ's time, and tile
Papists and Mahometans at this day.
At a time when there is an apparent approach of any glo
rious revival of God's church, he especially calls his pro
fessing people to the practice of moral duties, Isa. lvi. 1.
" Thus saith the Lord, Keep ye judgment, and do justice;
for my salvation is near to come, and my righteousness to
be revealed." So when John preached that " the kingdom
of heaven was at hand," and cried to the people, " Prepare
ye the way ofthe Lord, make his paths straight," Luke iii.
4. the people asked him, " What they should do?" He
answers, " He that hath two coats, let him impart to him
that hath none ; and he that hath meat, let him do like
wise." The publicans said, " What shall we do?" He
answers, " Exact no more than that which is appointed
you." And the soldiers asked him, " What shall we do ?"
He replies, " Do violence to no man, neither accuse any
falsely ; and be content with your wages," ver. 10 — 14.
God's people at such time as this, ought especially to
abound in deeds of charity, or alms-giving. Wegenerally,
in these days, seem to fall far below the true spirit and
practice of Christianity with regard to this duty, and seem
to have but little notion of it, so far as I can understand
the New Testament. — At a time when God is so liberal of
spiritual things, we ought not to be strait-handed towards
him, and sparing of our temporal things. So far as I can
judge by the Scripture, there is no external duty whatso
ever, by which persons will be so much in the way, not only
of receiving temporal benefits, but also spiritual blessings,
the influences of God's Holy Spirit in the heart, in divine
discoveries and spiritual consolations. I think it would be
unreasonable to understand those promises, made to this
duty, in the 58th chap, of Isaiah, in a sense exclusive of
spiritual discoveries and comforts ; Isa. lviii. 7, &c. — " Is
it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring
the poor that are cast out, to thy house ? when thou seest
the naked, that thou cover him, and that thou hide not thy
self from thine own flesh ? Then shall toy light break forth
as the morning, and toy health shall spring forth speedily ;
and thy righteousness shall go before thee ; the glory of the
Lord shall be thy rere-ward. Then shalt thou call, and the
Lord shall answer ; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here I
am : if thou take away from the midst of thee the yoke,
the putting forth of the finger, and speaking vanity : and
if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the
afflicted soul ; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and
thy darkness be as toe noon-day. And the Lord shall
guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought,
and make fat thy bones : and thou shalt be like a watered
garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not."
So that giving to the poor is the way to receive spiritual
blessings, is manifest by Psal. cxii. 4, &c. " Unto the up
right there ariseth light in the darkness : he is gracious,
and full of compassion, and righteous. A good man
showeth favour, and lendeth ; he will guide his affairs
wito discretion. Surely he shall not be moved for ever ;
the righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance. He
shall not be afraid of evil tidings : his heart is fixed,
trusting in the Lord. His heart is established, he shall
not be afraid, until he see his desire upon his enemies.
He hath dispersed, he hath given to the poor ; his hom
shall be exalted with honour." That this is one likely means
to obtain assurance, is evident by 1 John iii. 18,19. " My
little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue,

Sect. ID.

SOME THINGS THAT CONCERN ALL.

4.9

but in deed, and in truth. And hereby we know toat we
are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him."
We have a remarkable instance in Abraham, of God re
warding deeds of charity with sweet discoveries of him
self. He had been remarkably charitable to his brother
Lot, and the people redeemed out of captivity with him,
by exposing his life to rescue them. He had re-taken not
only the persons, but all the spoil that had been taken by
Chedorluomer and toe confederate kings. The king of
Sodom offered him, that, if he would give him the per
sons, he might take the goods to himself ; but Abraham
refused to take any thing, even so much as a thread or
shoe-latchet, but returned all. — He might have greatly
enriched himself if he had taken the spoil to himself, for
it was the spoil of five wealthy kings and their kingdoms,
yet he did not covet it. The king and people of Sodom
were now become objects of charity, having been stript of
all by their enemies ; therefore Abraham generously be
stowed all upon them, as we have an account in Gen. xiv.
and four last verses. He was soon rewarded for it, by a
blessed discovery that God made of himself to him ; as in
the next words : " After these things the word of the
Lord came unto Abraham in a vision, saying, Fear not,
Abraham : I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great re
ward." " I am thy shield to defend thee in battle, as I
have now done : and though thou hast charitably refused
to take any reward for exposing thy life to rescue this
people, yet fear not, thou shalt not be a loser, thou shalt
nave a reward ; I am thy exceeding great reward."
When Christ was upon earth, he was poor, and an ob
ject of charity ; and, during the time of his public minis
try he was supported by the charity of some of his fol
lowers, and particularly certain women, of whom we read
Luke viii. 2, 3. And these women were rewarded, by
being peculiarly favoured with gracious manifestations
which Christ made of himself to them. He discovered
himself first to them after his resurrection, before the
twelve disciples : they first saw a vision of glorious angels,
who spake comfortably to them ; and then Christ himself
appeared to them, and spake peace to them, saying, " All
hail, be not afraid ; and they were admitted to come and
hold him by the feet, and worship him," Matt, xxviii.
And though we cannot be charitable in this way to Christ,
who in his exalted state is infinitely above the need of our
charity ; yet we may be charitable to him even now, as
well as they then. For though Christ is not here, yet he
has left others in his room, to be his receivers ; and they
are the poor. Christ is yet poor in his members ; and he
that gives to them, lends to the Lord : and Christ tells
us, that he shall look on what is done to toem, as done to
him. Rebekah, in her marriage with Isaac, was undoubtedly
a remarkable type of the church, in her espousals to the
Lord Jesus. She obtained her husband in doing deeds of
charity ; agreeable to the prayer of Abraham's servant, who
desired that this might be the tiling to distinguish the vir
gin who was to be Isaac's wife. So Cornelius was brought
to the knowledge of Christ in this way. " He was a de
vout man, and one that feared God, with all his house ;
which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God
alway. And an angel appeared to him, and said to him.
Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial
before God ; and now send men to Joppa, and call for one
Simon, whose surname is Peter," &c. Acts x. at the begin
ning. And we have an account of the following parts of
the chapter, how God, by Peter's preaching, revealed
Christ to Cornelius and his family, and of the Holy Ghost
descending upon toem, and filling their hearts with joy
and toeir mouths with praises.
Some may possibly object, That for persons to do deeds
of charity, in hope of obtaining spiritual blessings and
comforts in this way, would seem to show a self-righteous
spirit, as though they would offer something to God to
purchase these favours. But, if this be a good objection,
it may be made against every duty whatsoever. All ex
ternal duties of the first table will be excluded by it, as
well as those of the second. First-table duties have as
direct a tendency to raise self-righteous persons' expecta
tions of receiving something from God, on account of
them, as second-table duties ; and on some accounts more,

for those duties are more immediately offered to God, and
therefore persons are more ready to expect something_/ro»z
God for them. But no duty is to be neglected, for fear of
making a righteousness of it. And I have always ob
served, that those professors who are most partial in their
duty — exact and abundant in external duties of the first
table, and slack as to those of the second — are the most
self-righteous. If God's people in this land were once brought to
abound in such deeds of love, as much as in praying,
hearing, singing, and religious meetings and conference, it
would be a most blessed omen. Nothing would have a
greater tendency to bring the God of love down from
eaven to earth ; so amiable would be the sight in the
eyes of our loving and exalted Redeemer, that it would
soon as it were fetch him down from his throne in heaven,
to set up his tabernacle with men on the earth, and dwell
with them. I do not remember ever to have read of any
remarkable outpouring of the Spirit, that continued any
long time, but what was attended with an abounding in
this duty. We know it was so with that great effusion of
the Spirit which began at Jerusalem in the apostles' days.
And so it was in the late remarkable revival of religion in
Saxony, which began by the labours of the famous pro
fessor Franck, and has now been carried on for above
thirty years, and has spread its happy influences into many
parts of the world ; it was begun, and has been carried on,
by a wonderful practice in this duty. And the remarkable
blessing that God has given Mr. Whitfield, and the great
success with which he has crowned him, may well be
thought to be very much owing to his laying out himself
so abundantly in charitable designs. And it is foretold,
that God's people shall abound in this duty at the time of
the great outpouring of the Spirit that shall be in the latter
days, Isa. xxxii. 5, 8. " The vile person shall no more be
called liberal, nor the churl said to be bountiful — -But the
liberal deviseth liberal things, and by liberal things shall
he stand."
To promote a reformation, with respect to all sorts of
duties among a professing people, one proper means, and
that which is recommended by frequent scripture exam
ples, is their solemn, public renewing of their covenant
with God. — And doubtless it would greatly tend to pro
mote this work in the land, if the congregations of God's
people could generally be brought to this. Suppose a
draught of a covenant be made by their ministers,
wherein there should be an express mention of those
particular duties that the people of the respective con
gregations have been observed to be most prone to
neglect, those particular sins into which they have hereto
fore especially fallen, or of which it may be apprehended
they are especially in danger, whereby they may prevent
or resist the motions of God's Spirit. Suppose the matter
be fully proposed and explained to the people, and, after
sufficient opportunity for consideration, they be led, all
that are capable of understanding, particularly to sub
scribe the covenant. Suppose also all appear together on
a day of prayer and fasting, publicly to own it before God
in his house, as their vow to the Lord ; hereby congrega
tions of Christians would do what would be beautiful in
itself, what would put honour upon God, and be very
profitable to themselves. Such a thing was attended with
a very wonderful blessing in Scotland, and followed with
a great increase of the blessed tokens of the presence of
God, and remarkable outpourings of his Spirit ; as the
author of the Fulfilling of the Scripture informs, p. 186.
5th edition. — A people must be taken when they are iu a
good mood, when considerable religious impressions pre
vail among them ; otherwise innumerable will be their ob
jections and cavils against it.
One thing more I would mention, which, if God should*
still carry on this work, would tend much to promote it ;
and that is, That a history should be published once a
month, or once a fortnight, of its progress, by one of the
ministers of Boston, who are near the press, and are most
conveniently situated to receive accounts from all parts.
It has been found by experience, that toe tidings of re
markable effects of the power and grace of God in any
place, tend greatly to awaken and engage the minds of
persons in other places. It is a great pity, therefore, but

430

THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL.

Part V.

that some means should be used for toe most speedy,
most extensive, and certain information of such things ;
that the country be not left to the slow, partial, and doubt
ful information, and false representations, of common re
port. Thus I have f I hope, by the help of God) finished what
I proposed. I have taken the more pains in it, because it
appears to me that now God is giving us the most happy
season to attempt an universal reformation toat ever was
given in New England. And it is a thousand pities, that
we should fail of that which would be so glorious, for
want of being sensible of our opportunity, of being aware
of toose things toat tend to hinder it, of" taking improper

courses to obtain it, or of not being sensible in what way
God expects we should seek it. I? it should please God
to bless any means for convincing the country of his hand
in this work, for bringing them fully and freely to acknow
ledge his glorious power and grace in it ; and for bringing
them to engage with one heart and soul, and by due
methods, to endeavour to promote it, it would be a dispen
sation of Divine Providence that would have a most glori
ous aspect, happily signifying the approach of great and
glorious things to toe church of God, and justly causing
us to hope that Christ would speedily come to set up his
kingdom of light, holiness, peace, and joy on earth, as is
foretold in his word. Amen ; even so come, Lord Jesus !

AN HUMBLE INQUIRY

RULES OF THE WORD OF GOD,

CONCERN I NO

THE QUALIFICATIONS

TO A COMPLETE STANDING AND FULL COMMUNION

IN THE VISIBLE

CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

Behold now I have opened my mouth:— My words shall be ofthe uprightness of my heart.  Job xxxiii. % 3.
Confitebatur VLutherus] dolorem suum, quod ab ipsis reflorescentis Evangelii Primordiis, quosvis absque Discrimine ad Ccenam Dominicam admisisset,
quodque Disciplin'am, Fratrum Discipline similem, apud suos non constituisset.— Quia objiciebatur, Fratres non habere Ecclesiam apertam -,— Respon-
sum fuit, Sancta dare non Sanctis prohibuisse Christum :— Errorem [in Papatu] corrigi non posse aliter quam ut certa Prnbatione, nee ilia suhitangat
Cordium Arcana reveluntiir, Novitiique diu et eaute turn informentur, turn explorentur. — Ratio Discipl. Fratr. Bohem.

THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

My appearing in this public manner on that side ofthe question, which is defended in the following sheets, will pro
bably be surprising to many ; as it is well known, that Mr Stoddard, so great and eminent a divine, and my venerable
predecessor in toe pastoral office over the church in Northampton, as well as my own grandfather, publicly and strenu
ously appeared in opposition to toe doctrine here maintained.
However, I hope it will be not taken amiss that I think as I do, merely because I herein differ from him, though so
much my superior, and one whose name and memory I am under distinguishing obligations, on every account, to treat
with great respect and honour. Especially may I justly expect, that it will not be charged on me as a crime, that I do
not think in every thing just as he did, siiice none more than he himself asserted this scriptural and protestant maxim,
that we ought to call no man on earth master, or make the authority of the greatest and holiest of mere men the ground
of our belief of any doctrine in religion. Certainly we are not obliged to think any man infallible, who himself utterly
disclaims infallibility. Very justly Mr. Stoddard observes in his Appeal to the Learned,n. 97. " All protestants agree,
that there is no infallibility at Rome ; and I know nobody else pretends to any, since the apostles' days." And he in
sists, in his preface to his sermon on the same subject, That it argues no want of a due respect in us to our forefathers,
for us to examine their opinions. Some of his words in that preface contain a good apology for me, and are worthy to
be repeated on this occasion. They are as follows :
" It may possibly be a fault Csays Mr. Stoddard) to depart from the ways of our fathers : but it may also be a virtue,
and an eminent act of obedience, to depart from them in some things. Men are wont to make a great noise, toat we are
bringing in innovations, and depart from the old way : but it is beyond me, to find out wherein the iniquity does lie.
We may see cause to alter some practices of our fathers, without despising them, without priding ourselves m our wisdom,
without apostacy, without abusing the advantages God has given us, without a spirit of compliance with corrupt men,
without inclination to superstition, without making disturbance in the church of God : and there is no reason, that it
should be turned as a reproach upon us. Surely it is commendable for us to examine the practices of our fathers ; we
have no sufficient reason to take practices upon trust from them. Let them have as high a character as belongs to them ;
yet we may not look upon toeir principles as oracles. Nathan himself missed it in his conjecture about building the
house of God. He that believes principles because they affirm them, makes idols of them. And it would be no humility,
but baseness of spirit, for us to judge ourselves incapable to examine the principles that have been handed down to us.
If we be by any means fit to open the mysteries ofthe gospel, we are capable to judge of these matters : and it would ill
become us, so to indulge ourselves in case, as to neglect the examination of received principles. If the practices of our
fathers in any particulars were mistaken, it is^f they should be rejected ; if toey be not, they will bear examination. If
we be forbidden to examine their practice, that will cut off all hopes of reformation."
Thus, in these very reasonable and apposite sayings, Mr. Stoddard, though dead, yet speaketh : and here (to apply
them to my own case) he tells me, that I am not at all blamable, for not taking his principles on trust ; that notwitiV

432 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
standing the high character justly belonging to him, I ought not to look on his principles as oracles, as though he could not
miss it, as well as Nathan himself ire his conjecture about building the house of God; nay, surely, that 1 am even to be
commended, for examining his practice, and judging for myself ; that it would ill become me to do otherwise; that this
would be no manifestation of humility, but rather show a baseness of spirit; that if I be not capable to judge for myself in
these matters, I am by no means fit to open the mysteries ofthe gospel; that if I should believe his principles, because he
advanced, them, I should be guilty of making him an idol— Also he tells his and my flock, with all others, that it ill be
comes them, so to indulge their ease, as to neglect examining received principles and practices ; and that it is fit, mistakes
in any particulars be rejected : that if in some things I differ in my judgment from him, it would be very unreasonable,
on this account, to make a great noise, as though 1 were bringing in innovations, and departing from the old way ; that I
may see cause to alter some practices of my grandfather and predecessor, without despising him, without priding myself in
my wisdom, without apostacy, without despising the advantages God has given me, without inclination to superstition, and
without making disturbance in the church of God; in short, that it is beyond him to find out wherein the iniquity of my
so doing lies; and that there is no reason why it should be turned as a reproach upon me. Thus, I think, he sufficiently
vindicates my conduct in the present case, and warns all with whom lam concerned, not to be at all displeased with
me, or to find the least fault with me, merely because I examine for myself, have a judgment of my own, and am for
practising in some particulars different from him, how positive soever he was that his judgment and practice were right.
It is reasonably hoped and expected, that they who have a great regard to his judgment, will impartially regard his judg
ment, and hearken to his admonition in these things.
I can seriously declare, that an affectation of making a show as if I were something wiser than that excellent person,
is exceeding distant from me, and very far from having the least influence in my appearing to oppose, in this way of the
press, an opinion which he so earnestly maintained and promoted. Sure I am, I have not affected to vary frorn his
judgment, nor in the least been governed by a spirit of contradiction, neither indulged a cavilling humour, in remarking
on any of his arguments or expressions. — I have formerly been of his opinion, which I imbibed from his books, even
from my childhood, and have in my proceedings conformed to his practice ; though never without some difficulties in
my view, which I could not solve. Yet, however, a distrust of my own understanding, and deference to the authority of
so venerable a man, the seeming strength of some of his arguments, together with the success he had in his ministry,
and his great reputation and influence, prevailed for a long time to bear down my scruples. — But the difficulties and
uneasiness on my mind increasing, as I became more studied in divinity, and as I improved in experience; this
brought me to closer diligence and care to search the Scriptures, and more impartially to examine and weigh the argu
ments of my grandfather, and such other authors as I could get on his side ofthe question. By which means, after
long searching, pondering, viewing, and reviewing, I gained satisfaction, became fully settled in the opinion I now
maintain, as in the discourse here offered to public view ; and dared to proceed no further in a practice and administra
tion inconsistent therewith : which brought me into peculiar circumstances, laying me under an inevitable necessity
publicly to declare and maintain the opinion I was thus established in ; as also to do.it from the press, and to do it at
this time without delay.
It is far from a pleasing circumstance of this publication, that it is against what my honoured grandfather strenuously
maintained, both from the pulpit and press. I can truly say, on account of this and some other considerations, it is
what I engage in with the greatest reluctance that ever I undertook any public service in my life. But the state of
things with me is so ordered, by the sovereign disposal of the great Governor of the world, that my doing this appeared
to me very necessary and altogether unavoidable. I am conscious, not only is the interest of religion concerned in this
affair, but my own reputation, future usefulness, and my very subsistence, all seem to depend on my freely opening and
defending myself, as to my principles, and agreeable conduct in my pastoral charge ; and on my doing it from the press :
in which way alone am I able to state and justify my opinion, to any purpose, before the country, (which is full of
noise, misrepresentations, and many censures concerning this affair,) or even before my own people, as all would be
fully sensible, if they knew the exact state of the case. — I have been brought to this necessity in divine providence, by
such a situation of affairs and coincidence of circumstances and events, as I choose at present to be silent about; and
which it is not needful, nor perhaps expedient, for me to publish to the world.
One thing among others that caused me to go about this business with so much backwardness, was toe fear of a bad
improvement some ill-minded people might be ready, at this day, to make of the doctrine here defended ; particularly
that wild enthusiastical sort of people, who have of late gone into unjustifiable separations, even renouncing toe minis
ters and churches of the land in general, under pretence of setting up a pure church. It is well known, that I have
heretofore publicly remonstrated, both from the pulpit and press, against very many of the notions and practices of this
kind of people : and shall be very son'y if what I now offer to the public, should be any occasion of their encouraging or
strengthening themselves in those notions and practices. To prevent which, I would now take occasion to declare, I
am still of the same mind concerning them that I have formerly manifested. I have the same opinion concerning the
religion and inward experiences chiefly in vogue among them, as I had wheft I wrote my Treatise on Religious Affec
tions, and when I wrote my Observations and Reflections on Mr. Brainerd's Life. I have no better opinion of their
notion of a pure church by means of a spirit of discerning, their censorious outcries against the standing ministers and
churches in general, their lay ordinations, their lay preachings, and public ethortings, and administering sacraments ; their
assuming, self-confident, contentious, uncharitable, separating spirit ; their going about the country, as sent by the Lord,
to make proselytes ; with their many otoer extravagant and wicked ways. My holding the doctrine that is defended in
this discourse, is no argument of any change of my opinion concerning them ; for when I wrote those two books before
mentioned, I was of the same mind concerning the qualifications of communicants at the Lord's table that I am of
now. However, it is not unlikely, that some will still exclaim against my principles, as being of the same pernicious ten
dency with those of the Separatists. To such I can only by a solemn protestation aver the sincerity of my aims, and the
great care I have exercised to avoid whatsoever is erroneous, or might be in any respect mischievous. But as to my
success in these my upright aims and endeavours, I must leave it to every reader to judge for himself, after he has
carefully perused and impartially considered the following discourse : which, considering the nature and importance of
the subject, I hope all serious readers will accompany with their earnest prayers to the Father of lights, for his gracious
direction and influence. And, to Him be glory in the churches by Christ Jesus.
J. E.

A PREFACE
BY HIS AMERICAN FRIENDS.
Though the doctrine here maintained by our dear and reverend brother, was brought over hither by toe pious and
judicious fathers of this country from the Puritans in England, and held by them and their successors in our churches
above threescore years without dissension ; yet some good and learned men have since gone into another way of think
ing in this matter. And as the Word of GOD is our only rule of judging, and this only can bind the conscience
in religion, it must needs concern every man to search the Scriptures, that he may come to as satisfying a knowledge as
may be, whether he has a right to the Lord's supper, and whetoer it be his immediate duty to partake of it, or admit
of others. And for all that we had hitherto read on this subject, it seemed to us, there wanted further searchings and
discoveries. And though we have not all had opportunity to read the composure following ; yet we apprehend toe reverend Author
singularly qualified to manage this important argument, from his great acquaintance, with the Scriptures, and diligent
application to the study of them, with a special aim to find the mind of Christ and settle his judgment in this parti
cular; both to get more light himself, and communicate the same to others. And we have this peculiar motive to
excite attention to what he writes, that he is so far from arguing from the prejudice or influence of education, that
being brought up in the contrary way of thinking, and more inclined thereto from a special veneration of his reverend
grandfather; yet on carefully searching the sacred volumes, he was obliged to yield to those convictions toey produced
in him, and change his judgment.
The following Treatise contains the substance of those convictions, or the particular reasons of this alteration. And
if those who are now in his former way of thinking, would with due seriousness, humility, calmness, diligence, and
impartiality, search the Scriptures, and consider his arguments derived from them, looking up to GOD through
Christ, and subjecting their minds entirely to him, they may either see and yield to the same convictions, and find
cause to change then.' judgments also, or will at least continue their fraternal affection to the worthy Author, and others
in the same sentiments with him.
We heartily pray that toe reverend Author and his flock may for a long time be happy together ; that their cordial
love and tenderness to each other may continue and operate in mutual and all lawful condescensions and forbearances
under different sentiments in these particulars ; that every one may be open to light, and guard against all prejudice,
precipitance, and passion ; that they may be very watchful against toe devices of Satan to disunite or disaffect them ;
that they may study the things that make for peace and edification. — And the GOD of light, love, and peace, wili
continue with them. THOMAS PRINCE.
JOHN WEBB.
Boston, THOMAS FOXCROFT.
August tl, 1746. M. BYLES.

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE EDINBURGH EDITION.
A narrative ofthe transactions to which toe following Treatise refers, may be read in the account of the Author's
Life, which was printed originally at Boston, New England, in 1765, and lately reprinted at Glasgow. The works
of the Author are now very well known in this country. The world, it is apprehended, owe no small obligation to
Dr. John Erskine, one of the ministers of this city, who first introduced them to their acquaintance.
There are very few persons attentive to the subjects on which President Edwards has written who will not acknow
ledge, that he has cast much light upon them. And notoing will prevent Christians from considering toe present
Treatise as one of the most able and interesting parts of his works, but prejudice and indifference about the subject of
it. His own opinion of it may be seen in his Preface. It will there appear, if persons should even be inattentive to
its internal evidence, toat it called forth the complete extent of his abilities, and was the fruit of dependence on the
Father of lights for instruction and preservation from error.
The whole of his works are now reprinted in Britain, excepting only his Defence of this Treatise, against the Objec
tions of Mr. Solomon Williams. If the present performance, which is exceedingly scarce, meets with encouragement,
the publisher intends to print it also.
Edinburgh, May 15, 1790.

2 F

AN

HUMBLE INQUIRY, &c.

PART I.
THE QUESTION STATED AND EXPLAINED.

The main question I would consider, and for the nega
tive of which I would offer some arguments in the fol
lowing discourse, is this ; Whether, according to the
rules of Christ, any ought to be admitted to the communion
and privileges of members of the visible church of Christ
in complete standing, but such as are in profession, and in
the eye of the church's christian judgment, godly or gra
cious persons ?
When 1 speak of members of the visible church of
Christ, ire complete standing, I would be understood of
those who are received as the proper immediate subjects
of all the external privileges Christ has appointed for the
ordinary members of his church. I say ordinary members,
in distinction from any peculiar privileges and honours of
church-officers and rulers. All allow, there are some that
are in some respect in the church of God, who are not
members in complete standing, in the sense that has been
explained. All that acknowledge infant baptism, allow
infants, who are the proper subjects of baptism, and are
baptized, to be in some sort members of toe christian
church ; yet none suppose them to be members in such
standing as to be the proper immediate subjects of all ec
clesiastical ordinances and privileges : but that some fur
ther qualifications are requisite in order to this, to be
obtained, either in a course of nature, or by education, or
by divine grace. And some who are baptized in infancy,
even after they come to be adult, may yet remain for a
season short of such a standing as has been spoken of;
being destitute of sufficient knowledge, and perhaps some
other qualifications, through the neglect of parents, or their .
own negligence, or otherwise ; or because they carelessly
neglected to qualify themselves for ecclesiastical privileges
by making a public profession of the christian faith, or
owning the christian covenant, or forbear to offer them
selves as candidates for these privileges ; and yet not be
cast out of the church, or cease to be in any respect its
members : this, I suppose, will also be generally allowed.
One thing mainly intended in the foregoing question is,
whether any adult persons but such as are in the pro
fession and appearance endowed with the christian grace
or piety, ought to be admitted to the christian sacraments.
Particularly, whether they ought to be admitted to the
Lord's supper; and, if they are such as were not baptized
in infancy, ought to be admitted to baptism. Adult per
sons having those qualifications that oblige others to re
ceive them as the proper immediate subjects of the chris
tian sacraments, is a main thing intended in the question,
by being such as ought to be admitted to the communion
and privileges of members of the visible church, in complete
standing. There are many adult persons that by the al
lowance of all are in some respects within the church of
God, who are not members in good standing, in this re
spect. There are many, for instance, that have not at
present the qualifications proper to recommend them to
¦the Lord's supper : there are many scandalous persons,
who are under suspension. The late venerable Mr. Stod
dard, and many other great divines, suppose, that even ex
communicated persons are still members of the church of
God ; and some su ppose, the worshippers of Baal in
Israel, even those who were bred up such from their in
fancy, remained still members of the church of God.

And very many protestant divines suppose, that the mem
bers of the church of Rome, though they are brought up
and live continually in gross idolatry, and innumerable
errors and superstitions that tend utterly to make void the
gospel of Christ, still are in the visible church of Christ :
yet, I suppose, no orthodox divines would hold these to
be properly and regularly qualified for the Lord's supper.
It was therefore requisite, in the question before us, that a
distinction should be made between the members of the
visible church ingeneral, and members in complete standing.
It was also requisite, toat such a distinction should be
made in the question, to avoid lengthening out this dis
course exceedingly, with needless questions and debates
concerning the state of baptized infants ; that is needless
as to my present purpose. Though I have no doubts
about the doctrine of infant baptism ; yet God's manner
of dealing with such infants as are regularly dedicated to
him in baptism, is a matter liable to great disputes and
many controversies, and would require a large disserta
tion by itself to clear it up ; which, as it would extend
this discourse beyond all bounds, so it appears not neces
sary in order to a clear determination of the present ques
tion. The revelation of God's word is much plainer and
more express concerning adult persons, that act for them
selves in religious matters, than concerning infants. The
Scriptures were written for the sake of adult persons, or
those that are capable of knowing what is written. It is
to such the apostle speaks in the Epistles, and to such
only does God speak throughout his word ; and the
Scriptures especially speak for the sake of these, and about
those to whom they speak. And therefore if the word of
God affords us light enough concerning those spoken of
in the question, as I have stated it, clearly to determine
the matter with respect to them, we need not wait till we
see all doubts and controversies about baptized infants
cleared and settled, before we pass a judgment with re
spect to the point in hand. The denominations, charac
ters, and descriptions, which we find given in the Scrip
ture to visible Christians, and to the visible church, are
principally with an eye to the church of Christ in its
adult state and proper standing. If any one was about to
describe that kind of birds called doves, it would be most
proper to describe grown doves, and not young ones in
the egg or nest, without wings or feathers. ' So if any one
should describe a palm-tree or olive-tree by their visible
form and appearance, it would be presumed' that they de
scribed those of these kinds of trees in their natural and
proper state; and not as just peeping from the ground, or
as thunder-struck or blown down. And therefore I would
here give notice, once for all, that when in the ensuing
discourse I use such like phrases as visible saints, members
ofthe visible church, &c. I, for the most part, mean per
sons that are adult and in good standing.
The question is not, whether Christ has made convert
ing grace or piety itself the condition or rule of his peo
ple's admitting anv to the privileges of members in full
communion with them. There is no one qualification of
the mind whatsoever, that Christ has properly made the
term of this ; not so much as a common belief that Jesus
is the Messiah, or a belief of the being of a God. It is
the credible profession and visibility of these things, that

Part I.

THE QUESTION EXPLAINED.

435

is the church's rule in this case. Christian piety or god
liness may be a qualification requisite to communion in
the christian sacraments, just in the same manner as a be
lief that Jesus is the Messiah, and the Scriptures the
word of God, are requisite qualifications ; and in the same
manner as some kind of repentance is a qualification in
one that has been suspended for being grossly scandalous,
in order to his coming again to the Lord's supper; and
yet godliness itself not be properly the rule ofthe church's
proceeding, in like manner as such a belief and repentance,
as I have mentioned, are not their rule. It is a visibility
to the eye of a christian judgment, that is the rule of the
church's proceeding in each of these cases. — There are
two distinctions must be here observed. As,
1. We must distinguish between such qualifications as
are requisite to give a person a right to ecclesiastical pri
vileges in foro ecclesia, or a right to be admitted by the
church to those privileges ; and those qualifications that
are a proper and good foundation for a man's own conduct
in coming and offering himself as a candidate for imme
diate admission to these privileges. There is a difference
between these. Thus, for instance, a profession of the be
lief of a future state and of revealed religion, and some other
things that are internal and out of sight, and a visibility
of these things to the eye of a christian judgment, is all
relating to these things, that is requisite to give a man a
right in foro eccksioe, or before the church ; but it is the
real existence of these things, that is what lays a proper
and good foundation for his making this profession, and so
demanding these privileges. None will suppose, that he
has good and proper ground for such a conduct, who does
not believe another world, nor believe the Bible to be the
word of God. And then,
2. We must distinguish between that which nextly
brings an obligation on a man's conscience to seek admis
sion to a christian ordinance, and that which is a good
foundation for the dictate of an enlightened well-informed
conscience, and so is properly a solid foundation of a right
in him to act thus. Certainly this distinction does really
take place among mankind in innumerable cases. The
dictates of men's consciences are what bring them under a
most immediate obligation to act ; but it is that which is
a good foundation for such a dictate of an enlightened con
science, that alone is a solid foundation of a right in him
so to act. Believing the doctrine of the Trinity with all
the heart, in some sense, (let us suppose a moral sense,) is
one thing requisite in order to a person's having a solid
foundation of a right in him to go and demand baptism in
the name of the Trinity ; but his best judgment or dictate
of his conscience, concerning his believing this doctrine
with this sincerity, or with all his heart, may be sufficient
to bring an obligation on his conscience. Again, when a
delinquent has been convicted of scandal, it is repentance
in some respect sincere, (some a moral sincerity,) that is a
proper foundation of a right in him to offer himself for
forgiveness and restoration ; but it is the dictate of his
conscience or his best judgment concerning his sincerity,
that is toe thing which immediately obliges him to offer
himself. It is repentance itself, that is the proper qualifi
cation fundamental of his right, and without which he
cannot have a proper right ; for though he may be de
ceived, and think he has real repentance when he has not,
yet he has not properly a right to be deceived ; and per
haps deceit in such cases is always owing to something
blamable, or the influence of some corrupt principle :
but yet his best judgment brings him under obligation. In
the same manner, and no otherwise, I suppose that chris
tian grace itself is a qualification requisite in order to a
proper solid ground of a right in a person to come to the
christian sacraments. But of this I may say something
more when I come to answer objections.
When I speak, in toe question, of being godly or graci
ous in the eye of a christian judgment, by christian judg
ment I intend something further than a kind of mere
negative charity, implying that we forbear to censure and
condemn a man, because we do not know but toat he may
be godly, and therefore forbear to proceed on the foot of
such a censure or judgment in our treatment of him : as we
would kindly entertain a stranger, not knowing but in so
doing we entertain an angel or precious saint of God. But
2 F 2

I mean a positive judgment, founded on some positive
appearance, or visihly, some outward manifestations that
ordinarily render the thing probable. There is a differ
ence between suspending our judgment, or forbearing to
condemn, or having some hope that possibly the thing may
be so, and so hoping the best ; and a positive judgment
in favour of a person. For having some hope, only
implies that a man is not in utter despair of a thing, though
his prevailing opinion may be otherwise, or he may sus
pend his opinion. Though we cannot know a man believes
that Jesus is the Messiah, yet we expect some positive
manifestation or visibility of it, to be a ground of our
charitable judgment : so I suppose the case is here.
When I speak of christian judgment, I mean a judg
ment wherein men do properly exercise reason, and have
their reason under the due influence of love and other
christian principles ; which do not blind reason, but regu
late its exercises ; being not contrary to reason, though they
be very contrary to censoriousness, or unreasonable nice-
ness and rigidness.
I say in the eye of the Church's christian judgment,
because it is properly a visibility to the eye of the public
charity, and not of a private judgment, that gives a person
a right to be received as a visible saint by the public. If
any are known to be persons of an honest character, and
appear to be of good understanding in the doctrines of
Christianity, and particularly those doctrines that teach
the grand condition of salvation, and the nature of true
saving religion, and publicly and seriously profess the
great and main things wherein the essence of true religion
or godliness consists, and their conversation is agreeable ;
this justly recommends them to the good opinion of the
public, whatever suspicions and fears any particular person,
either the minister, or some other, may entertain, from
what he in particular has observed, perhaps from the
manner of his expressing himself in giving an account of
his experiences, or an obscurity in the order and method
of his experiences, &c. The minister in receiving him to
the communion of the church, is to act as a public officer,
and in behalf of the public society, and not merely for
himself, and therefore is to be governed, in acting, by a
proper visibility of godliness in the eye of the public.
It is not my design, in holding the negative of the fore
going question, to affirm, that all who are regularly ad
mitted as members of the visible church in complete
standing, ought to be believed to be godly or gracious
persons, when taken collectively, or considered in the
gross, by the judgment of any person or society. This
may not be, and yet each person taken singly may visibly
be a gracious person to the eye of the judgment of Chris
tians in general. These two are not the same thing, but
vastly diverse; and the latter may be, and yet not the
former. If we should know so much of a thousand per
sons one after another, and from what we observed in
them should have a prevailing opinion concerning each
one of them, singly taken, that they were indeed pious,
and think the judgment we passed, when we consider
each judgment apart, to be right ; it will not follow, when
we consider the whole company collectively, that we shall
have so high an opinion of our own judgment, as to think
it probable, there was not one erroneous judgment in the
whole thousand. We all have innumerable judgments
about one thing or other, concerning religious, moral, se
cular, and philosophical affairs, conceming past, present,
and future matters, reports, facts, persons, things, &c.
And concerning all the many thousand dictates of judg
ment that we have, we think them every one right, taken
singly ; for if there was any one that we thought wrong, it
would not be our judgment; and yet there is no man, un
less he is stupidly foolish, who when he considers all in
the gross, will say he thinks that his every opinion he is
of, concerning all persons and things whatsoever, impor
tant and trifling, is right, without the least error. But the
more clearly to illustrate this matter, as it relates to visi
bility, or probable appearances of holiness in professors :
supposing it had been found by experience concerning
precious stones, that such and such external marks were
probable signs of a diamond ; and supposing, by putting
together a great number of experiments, the probability is
as ten to one, that, take one time with another, one in ten

436

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

of the stones which have these marks (and no visible
signs to the contrary) proves to be not a true diamond.
Then it will follow, toat when I find a particular stone
with these marks, and nothing to the contrary, there is a
probability of ten to one, concerning that stone, that it is
a diamond ; and so concerning each stone that I find with
these marks : but if we take ten of these together, it is as
probable as not, that some one of the ten is spurious ; be
cause, if it were not as likely as not, that one to ten is
false, or if taking one ten with another, there were not one
in ten that was false, then the probability of those, toat
have these marks, being true diamonds, would be more
than ten to one, contrary to the supposition ; because that
is what we mean by a probability of ten to one, that they
are not false, viz. that take one ten wito another there will
be one false stone among them, and no more. Hence if we
take a hundred such stones together, the probability will
be just ten to one, that there is one false among them ; and
as likely as not that there are fere false ones in toe whole
hundred. And toe probability of the individuals must be
much greater than ten to one, even a probability of more
than a hundred to one, in order to its making it probable
that every one is true. It is an easy mathematical demon
stration. Hence the negative of the foregoing question by
no means implies a pretence of any scheme, that shall be
effectual to keep all hypocrites out of the church, and for
the establishing in that sense a pure church.
When it is said, those who are admitted, &c. ought to be
by profession godly or gracious persons ; it is not meant,
they should merely profess or say that they are converted
or are gracious persons, that they know so, or think so ;
but that they profess toe great things wherein christian

piety consists, viz. a supreme respect to God, faith in
Christ, &c. Indeed it is necessary, as men would keep a
good conscience, that they should think that these things
are in them, which they profess to be in them ; otherwise
they are guilty of the horrid wickedness of wilfully making
a lying profession. Hence it is supposed to be necessary,
in order to men's regularly and with a good conscience
coming into communion wito toe church of Christ in the
christian sacraments, that they themselves should suppose
the essential things, belonging to christian piety, to be in
toem. It does not belong to the present question, to consider
and determine what the nature of christian piety is, or
wherein it consists : this question may be properly deter
mined, and the determination demonstrated, without enter
ing into any controversies about the nature of conversion,
&c. Nor does an asserting the negative of the question
determine any thing how particular the profession of god
liness ought to be, but only that the more essential things,
which belong to it, ought to be professed. Nor is it deter
mined, but that the public professions made on occasion
of persons' admission to the Lord's supper, in some of
our churches, who yet go upon that principle, that persons
need not esteem themselves truly gracious in order to a
coming conscientiously and properly to the Lord's supper ;
I say, it is not determined but that some of these profes
sions are sufficient, if toose that made them were taught to
use the words, and others to understand them, in no other
toan their proper meaning, and principle and custom had
not established a meaning very diverse from it, or perhaps
an use of the words without any distinct and clear deter
minate meaning.

PART II.
REASONS FOR THE NEGATIVE OF THE FOREGOING QUESTION.

Having thus explained what I mean, when I say,
That none ought to be admitted to the communion and
privileges of members of the visible church of Christ in
complete standing, but such as are in profession, and in the
eye of the church's christian judgment, godly or gracious
persons : I now proceed to observe some things which may
tend to evince the truth of this position.

SECT. I.
None ought to be admitted as members ofthe visible church
of Christ but visible and professing saints.
I begin with observing, I think it is both evident by
the word of God, and also granted on all hands, that none
ought to be admitted as members of the visible church of
Christ but visible and professing saints, or visible and pro
fessing Christians. — We find toe word saint, when applied
to men, used two ways in the New Testament. The word
in some places is so used as to mean those that are real
saints, who are converted, and are truly gracious persons ;
as 1 Cor. vi. 2. " Do ye not know that the saints shall
judge toe world ?" Eph. i. 18. " The riches of the glory
of his inheritance in the saints." Chap. iii. 17, 18. " That
Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that ye being
rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend
with all saints, what is the breadth," &c. 2 Thess. i. 10.
" When he shall come to be glorified in his saints, and
admired in all them that believe." So Rev. v. 8. chap.
viii. 4. and xi. 18. and xiii. 10. and xiv. 12. and xix. 8.
In other places the word is used so as to have respect not
only to real saints, but to such as were saints in visibility,
appearance, and profession ; and so were outwardly, as to
what concerns their acceptance among men and their out
ward treatment and privileges, of the company of saints.
So the word is used in very many places, which it is need
less to mention, as every one acknowledges it.
In like manner we find the word Christian used two

ways : the word is used to express the same thing as " a
righteous man that shall be saved," 1 Pet. iv. 16 — 18.
Elsewhere it is so used as to take in all that were Chris
tians by profession and outward appearance ; Acts xi. 26.
So there is a twofold use of the word disciples in the New
Testament. There were disciples in name, profession, and
appearance; and there were those whom Christ calls
disciples indeed, John viii. 30, 31. — The word is _\>ie_s,
truly. The expression plainly supposes this distinction of
true or real disciples, and those who were toe same in
pretence and appearance. See also Luke xiv. 25 — 27.
and John xv. 8. The same distinction is signified, in the
New Testament, by those that live, being alive from the
dead, and risen with Christ, (2 Cor. iv. 11. Rom. vi. 11.
and elsewhere,) and those who have a name to live, having
only a pretence and appearance of life. And the distinc
tion of the visible church of Christ into these two, is
plainly signified of the growth of the good ground, and
that in the stony and thorny ground, which had the same
appearance and show with the other, till it came to wither
away ; and also by toe two sorts of virgins, Matt. xxv.
who both had a show, profession, and visibility of the
same thing. By these things, and many others which
might be observed, it appears, that the distinction of real
and viable or professing saints is scriptural, and toat the
visible church was made up of these two, and that none
are according to Scripture admitted into the visible church
of Christ, but those who are visible and professing saints
or Christians. And it is the more needless to insist longer
upon it, because it is not a thing in controversy ; so far as
my small reading will inform me, it is owned by all
protestants. To be sure, the most eminent divine in New
England who has appeared to maintain toe Lord's supper
to be properly a converting ordinance, was very full in it.
In his Appeal to the Learned, in the title-page, and
through the Treatise, he supposes that all who come to
the Lord's supper, must be visilde saints, and sometimes
speaks of them as professing saints, page 85, 86 : and sup
poses that it is requisite in order to their being admitted

Sect. I.

CHURCH MEMBERS SHOULD BE VISIBLE SAINTS.

437

to the communion of the Lord's table, that they make a
personal public profession of their faith and repentance to
the just satisfaction ofthe church, page 93, 94. In these
things the whole of the position that I would prove is in
effect granted. If it be allowed (as it is allowed on all
sides) that none ought to be admitted to the communion
of the christian visible church, but visible and professing
saints or Christians, if these words are used in any pro
priety of speech, or in any agreement with scripture repre
sentations, the whole of that which I have laid down is
either implied or will certainly follow.
As real saints are the same with real converts, or really
gracious persons, so visible saints are the same with visible
converts, or those that are visibly converted and gracious
persons. Visibility is the same with manifestation or ap
pearance to our view and apprehension. And therefore to
be visibly a gracious person, is the same thing as to be a
truly gracious person to our view, apprehension, or esteem.
The distinction of reai and visible, does not only take
place with regard to saintship or holiness, but with regard
to innumerable other things. There is visible and real
truth, visible and real honesty, visible and real money,
visible and real gold, visible and real diamonds, &c. &c.
Visible and real are words that stand related one to
another, as the words ; eal and seeming, or true and appar
ent. Some seem to speak of visibility with regard to saint-
ship or holiness, as though it had no reference to the
reality, or as though it were a distinct reality by itself ; as
though by visible saints were not meant those who to ap
pearance are real saints or disciples indeed, but properly
a distinct sort of saints, which is an absurdity. There is
a distinction between real money and visible money, be
cause all toat is esteemed money and passes for money is
not real money, but some is false and counterfeit. By
visible money, is not meant that which is taken and
passes for a different sort from true money, but that which
is esteemed and taken as real money, or which has that ap
pearance that recommends it to men's judgment and
acceptance as true money ; though men m:iy be deceived,
and some of it may finally prove not to be so.
There are not properly two sorts of saints spoken of in
Scripture. Though the word saints maybe said indeed to
be used two ways in Scripture, or used so as to reach two
sorts of persons ; yet the word has not properly two sig
nifications in the New Testament, any more toan the
word gold has two significations among- us : toe word
gold among us is so used as to extend to several sorts of
substances ; it is true, it extends to true gold, and also to
that which only appears to be gold, and is reputed such,
and by that appearance or visibility some things that are
not real obtain the name of gold ; but this is not properly
through a diversity in the signification of the word, but by
a diversity of the application of it, through the imperfec
tion of our discerning. It does not follow that there are
properly two sorts of saints, because some who are not
real saints, do by the show and appearance they make ob
tain the name of saints, and are reputed such, and whom
by toe rales of Scripture (which are accommodated to our
imperfect state) we are directed to receive and treat as
saints ; any more than it follows toat there are two sorts
of honest men, because some who are not truly honest men,
vet being so seemingly or visibly, do obtain the name of
honest men, and ought to be treated by us as such. So
there are not properly two distinct churches of Christ, one the
real, and another the visible ; though they that are visibly
or seemingly of the one only church of Christ, are many
more than they who are really of his church ; and so the
visible or seeming church is of larger extent than the real.
Visibility is a relative thing, and has relation to an eye
that views or beholds. Visibility is the same as appear
ance or exhibition to toe eye ; " and to be a visible saint
is the same as to appear to be a real saint in the eye that
beholds ; not the eye of God, but toe eye of man. Real
saints or converts are those that are so in the eye of God ;
visible saints or converts are those who are so in the eye
of man ; not his bodily eye, for thus no man is a saint any
more in the eye of a man than he is in the eye of a beast ;
but the eye of his mind, which is his judgment or esteem.
There is no more visibility of holiness in the brightest pro
fessor to the eye of our bodies, without the exercise of the

reason and judgment of our minds, than may be in a
machine. But nothing short of an apparent probability,
or a probable exhibition, can amount to a visibility to
the eye of man's reason or judgment. The eye which
God has given to man is the eye of reason : and the eye
of a Christian is reason sanctified, regulated, and enlight
ened, by a principle of christian love. But it implies a
contradiction to say, that that is visible to the eye of
reason, which does not appear probable to reason. And
if there be a man that is in this sense a visible saint, he is
in the eye of a rational judgment a real saint. To say a
man is visibly a saint, but not visibly a real saint, but only
visibly a visible saint, is a very absurd way of speaking";
it is as much as to say, he is to appearance an appearing
saint ; which is in effect to say nothing, and to use words
without signification. The thing which must be visible
and probable, in order to visible saintship, must be saint-
ship itself, or real grace and true holiness ; not visibility
of saintship, not unregenerate morality, not mere moral
sincerity. To pretend, or in any respect to exhibit, moral
sincerity, makes nothing visible beyond what is pretended
to or exhibited. For a man to have that visibly, which if
he had it really, and have nothing more, would not make
him a real saint, is not to be visibly a saint.
Mr. Stoddard, in his Appeal to the Learned, seems to
express the very same notion of visibility, and that visi
bility of saintship which is requisite to persons coming to
the Lord's supper, that I have here expressed. In page
10, he makes a distinction between being visibly circum
cised in heart, and being really so ; evidently meaning by
the latter, saving conversion ; and he allows the former,
viz. a visibility of heart-circumcision, to be necessary to a
coming to the Lord's supper. So that according to him,
it is not a visibility of moral sincerity only, but a visibility
of circumcision of heart, or saving conversion, that is a
necessary requisite to a person's coming to the Lord's
table. And in what manner this must be visible, he sig
nifies elsewhere, when he allows, that it must be so to a
judgment of charity ; a judgment of rational charity. This
he expressly allows over and over ; as in page 2, 3, 28,
33, 73, and 95 : and having reason, to look upon them as
such, page 28. And towards the close of his book, he de
clares himself stedfastly of the mind, that it is requisite
those be not admitted to the Lord's supper, who do not
make a personal andpuhlic profession of their faith and re
pentance, to the just satisfaction of the church, page 93, 94_
But how he reconciled these passages with the rest of his
Treatise, I would modestly say, I must confess myself
at a loss. And particularly, I cannot see how toey con
sist with what this venerable and ever-honoured author
says, page 16, in these words; " Indeed by the rule that
God has given for admissions, if it be carefully attended,
more unconverted persons will be admitted than convert
ed." I would humbly inquire, how those visible qualifi
cations can be the ground of a rational judgment, that a
person is circumcised in heart, which nevertheless, at toe
same time, we are sensible are so far from being any pro
bable signs of it, that they are more frequently without it
than with it. The appearance of that thing surely cannot
imply an appearing probability of another thing, which at
the same time we are sensible is most frequently, and so
most probably, without that other thing.
Indeed I can easily see, how that may seem visible,
and appear probable, to God's people, by reason of the im
perfect and dark state they are in, and so may oblige their
charity, which yet is not real, and which would not appear
at all probable to angels, who stand in a clearer light.
And the different degrees of light, in which God's church
stands, in. different ages, may make a difference in this
respect. The church under the New Testament being
favoured by God with a vastly greater light in divine
things, than toe church under the Old Testament, that
might make some difference, as to the kind of profession
of religion that is requisite, under these different dispen
sations, in order to a visibility of holiness ; also a proper
visibility may fail in the greater number in some extraor
dinary case, and in exempt circumstances. But how those
signs can be a ground of a rational judgment that a thing
is, which, at that very time, and under that degree of light
we then have, we are sensible do oftener fail than not,

438

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

and this ordinarily, I own myself much at a loss. Surely
nothing but appearing reason is toe ground of a rational
judgment. And indeed it is impossible in toe nature of
things, to form a judgment, which at that very time we
think to be not only without, but against, probability.
If it be said, that although persons do not profess that
wherein sanctifying grace consists, yet seeing they profess
to believe the doctrines of the gospel, which God is wont
to make use of in order to sanctification, and are called
the doctrine which is according to godliness ; and since we
see nothing in their lives to make us determine, that they
have not had a proper effect on their hearts, we are obliged
in charity to hope, that they are real saints, or gracious
persons, and to treat them accordingly, and so to receive
them into the christian church, and to its special ordinances.
I answer, this objection does in effect suppose and grant
the very thing mainly in dispute. For it supposes, that a
gracious character is the thing that ought to be aimed at in
admitting persons into thecommunion ofthe church ; and so
that it is needful to have this charity for persons, or such a
favourable notion of them, in order to our receiving them
as properly qualified members of the society, and properly
qualified subjects of the special privileges to which they
are admitted. Whereas, the doctrine taught is, that sancti
fying grace is not a necessary qualification, and that there
is no need that the person himself, or any other, should
imagine he is a person so qualified. The assigned reason
is, because it is no qualification requisite in itself; the or
dinance of the Lord's supper is as proper for them that
are not qualified as for those that are ; it being according
to the design of the institution a converting ordinance, and
so an ordinance as much intended for the good of the un
converted, as of the converted ; even as it is with the preach
ing of the gospel. Now if the case, be so, why is there
any talk about a charitable hoping they are converted, and
so admitting them ? What need of any charitable hope of
such a qualification, in order to admitting them to an or
dinance that is as proper for those who are without this
qualification, as for those that have it? We need not have
any charitable hope of any such qualification in order to
admit a person to hear the word preached. What need
have we to aim at any thing beyond the proper qualifica
tions ? And what need of any charitable opinion or hope
of any thing further ? Some sort of belief, that Jesus is
the Messiah, is a qualification properly requisite to a coming
to the Lord's supper ; and therefore it is necessary that we
should have a charitable hope, that those have such a be
lief whom we admit ; though it be not necessary that we
should know it, it being what none can know of another.
But as to grace or christian piety, it clearly follows, on the
principles which I oppose, that no kind of visibility or ap-
Iiearance, whether direct or indirect, whether to a greater or
ess degree, no charity or hope of it, have any thing at all
to do in the affair of admission to the Lord's supper ; for,
according to them, it is properly a converting ordinance.
What has anv visibility or hope of a person being already
in health to do, in admitting him into an hospital for the
use of those means that are appointed for the healing of the
sick, and bringing them to health ? And therefore it is
needless here to dispute about the nature of visibility;
and all arguing concerning a profession of christian doc
trines, and an orderly life being a sufficient ground of pub
lic charity, and an obligation on the church to treat them
as saints, are wholly impertinent and notoing to toe pur
pose. For on the principles which I oppose, there is no
need of any ground for treating them as saints, in order to
admitting them to the Lord's supper, the very design of
which is to make them saints, any more than there is need
of some ground of treating a sick man as being a man in
health, in order to admitting him into an hospital. Per
sons, by the doctrine that I oppose, are not taught to offer
themselves as candidates for church communion under any
such notion, or with any such pretence, as their being gra
cious persons ; and therefore surely when those that teach
them, receive them to the ordinance, they do not receive
them under any such notion, nor has any appearance, hope,
or thought of it, any thing to do in the case.
The apostle speaks of the members of the christian
church, as those that made a profession of godliness. 2 Cor.
ix. 13. " They glorified God for your professed subjection

to the gospel of Christ." 1 Tim. ii. 9, 10. " In like man
ner also that women adorn themselves in modest apparel —
not with costly array ; but which becometh wornen pro
fessing godliness, with good works." The apostle is speak
ing oldie women that were members of that great church
of Ephesus, which Timothy for the present had the care
of; and he speaks of them as supposing that they all pro
fessed godliness. By the allowance of all, profession is one
thing belonging to the visibility of Christianity or holiness,
in the members of the visible church. Visible holiness is
an appearance or exhibition of holiness, by those things
which are external, and so fall under our notice and ob
servation, and these are two, viz. profession, and outward be
haviour agreeable to that profession. That profession
which belongs to visible saintship, must be a profession of
godliness,or real saintship; for a profession makes nothing
visible beyond what is professed. What is it to be a
saint by profession, but to be by profession a true saint ?
For to be by profession a false saint, is to be by profession
no saint ; and only to profess that, which if never so true,
is nothing peculiar to a saint, is not to be a professing
saint. In order to a man's being properly a professing Christian,
he must profess the religion of Jesus Christ : and he surely
does not profess the religion that was taught by Jesus
Christ, if he leaves out of his profession the most essential
things that belong to that religion. That which is most
essential in that religion itself, the profession of that is es
sential in a profession of that religion ; for (as I have ob
served elsewhere) that which is most essential in a thing,
in order to its being truly denominated that thing, the
same is essentially necessary to be expressed or signified
in any exhibition or declaration of that thing, in order to its
being truly denominated a declaration or exhibition of that
thing. If we take a more inconsiderable part of Christ's
religion, and leave out the main and most essential, surely
what we have cannot be properly called the religion of
Jesus Christ : so if we profess only a less important part,
and are silent about the most important and essential part,
it cannot be properly said that we profess the religion of
Jesus Christ. And therefore we cannot in any propriety
be said to profess Christ's religion, unless we profess those
things wherein consist piety of heart, which is vastly the
most important and essential part of that religion, and is
in effect all ; being that without which all the rest that
belongs to it, is nothing, and wholly in vain. But they who
are admitted to the Lord's supper, proceeding on the prin
ciples of those who hold it to be a converting ordinance,
do in no respect profess christian piety, neither in whole
nor in part, neither explicitly nor implicitly, directly nor
indirectly ; and therefore are not professing Christians, or
saints by profession. I mean, though they may be godly
persons, yet as they come to the ordinance without pro
fessing godliness, they cannot properly be called professing
saints. Here it may be said, that although no explicit and
formal profession of those things which belong to true
piety, be required of them ; yet there are many things they
do, that are a virtual and implicit profession of these
things : such as their owning the christian covenant, their
owning God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost to be their
God ; and by their visibly joining in the public pravers
and singing God's praises, there is a show and implicit
profession of supreme respect to God and love to him ;
by joining in the public confessions, they make a show of
repentance ; by keeping Sabbaths and hearing the word,
they make a show of a spirit of obedience ; by offering to
come to sacraments, they make a show of love to Christ
and a dependence on his sacrifice.
To this I answer ; It is a great mistake, if any one
imagines, that all these external performances are of the
nature of a profession, of any thing that belongs to saving
grace, as they are commonly'used and understood. None
of them are so, according to the doctrines toat are taught
and embraced, and the customs that are established, in
such churches as proceed on the footing of the principles fore-
mentioned. For what is professing, but exhibiting, utter
ing, or declaring, either by intelligible words, or by other
established signs that are equivalent ? But in such
churches, neither their publicly saying, that they avouch

Sect. I.

CHURCH MEMBERS SHOULD BE VISIBLE SAINTS.

439

God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, to be their God,
and that they give themselves up to him, and promise to obey
all his commands, nor their coming to the Lord's supper, or
to any other ordinances, are taken for expressions or signs,
of any thing belonging to the essence of christian piety.
But on the contrary, the public doctrine, principle, and
custom in such churches, establishes a diverse use of these
words and signs. People are taught, that they may use
them all, and not so much as make any pretence to the
least degree of sanctifying grace ; and this is toe established
custom. So they are used, and so they are understood.
And therefore whatever some of these words and signs
may in themselves most properly and naturally import,
they entirely cease to be significations of any such thing
among people accustomed to understand and use them
otherwise ; and so cease to be ofthe nature of a profession
of christian piety. There can be no such thing among
such a people, as either an explicit or implicit profession
of godliness, by any thing which (by their established doc
trine and custom) an unregenerate man may and ought to
say and perform, knowing "himself to be so. For let toe
words and actions otherwise signify what they will, yet
people have in effect agreed among toemselves, that per
sons who use them need not intend toem so, and that
others need not understand them so. And hence they
cease to be of the nature of any pretension to grace. And
surely it is an absurdity to say, that men openly and
solemnly profess grace, and yet do not so much as pre
tend to it. If a certain people should agree, and it should
be an established principle among them, that men might
and ought to use such and such words to their neighbours,
which according to their proper signification were a pro
fession of entire love and devoted friendship towards the
man they speak to, and yet not think that he has any love
in his heart to him, yea, and know at the same time that
he had a reigning enmity against him ; and it was known
toat this was the established principle ofthe people ; would
not these words, whatever their proper signification was,
entirely cease to be any profession or testimony of friend
ship to his neighbour ? To be sure, there could be no
visibility of it to toe eye of reason.
Thus it is evident, that those who are admitted into the
church on the principles that I oppose, are not professing
saints, nor visible saints; because that thing which alone is
truly saintship, is not what they profess, or pretend, or
have any visibility of, to the eye of a christian judgment.
Or if thev in fact' be visible and professing saints, yet they
are not admitted as such ; no profession of true saintship,
nor any manner of visibility of it, has any thing to do in
the affair.
There is one way to evade these things, which has been
taken by some. They plead, Although it be true, that
the Scripture represents the members of the visible church
of Christ as professors of godliness ; and they are abun
dantly called by the name of saints in Scripture, undoubt
edly because they were saints by profession, and in visi
bility, and the acceptance of others, yet this is not with any
reference to saving holiness, but to quite another sort of
saintship, viz. moral sincerity; and that this is the real
saintship, discipleship, and godliness, which is professed,
and visible in them, and with regard to which, as having
an appearance of it to the eye of reason, they have the
name of saints, disciples, &c. in Scripture. — It must be
noted, that in this objection the visibility is supposed to
be of real saintship, discipleship, and godliness, but only
another sort of real godliness, than that which belongs to
those who shall finally be owned by Christ as his people,
at the day of judgment.
To which I answer, This is a mere evasion ; toe only
one, that ever I saw or heard of; and I think the only
one possible. For it is certain, they are not professors of
sanctifying grace, or true saintship : the principle pro
ceeded on being, toat they need make no pretence to that ;
nor has any visibility of saving holiness any thing to do in
the affair. If then toey have any holiness at all, it must be
of another sort. And if this evasion fails, all fails, and the
whole matter in debate must be given up. Therefore I
desire that this matter may be impartially considered and
examined to the very bottom ; and that it may be thoroughly
inquired, whether this distinction of these two sorts of real

Christianity, godliness, and holiness, is a distinction of
which Christ in his word is the author ; or whether it be a
human invention of something which the New Testament
knows nothing of, devised to serve and maintain an hy
pothesis. — And here I desire that the following things
may be observed :
1 . According to this hypothesis, the words saints, dis
ciples, and Christians, are used four ways in the New
Testament, as applied to four sorts of persons. (1 .) To
those that in truth and reality are the heirs of eternal life,
and that shall judge toe world, or have indeed that saint
ship which is saving. (2.) To those who profess this, and
pretend to and make a fair show of a supreme regard to
Christ, and to renounce the world for his sake, but have
not real ground for these pretences and appearances. (3.)
To toose who, although they have not saving grace, yet
have toat other sort of real godliness, or saintship, viz-
moral sincerity in religion ; and so are properly a sort of
real saints, true Christians, sincerely godly persons, and
disciples indeed, though they have no saving grace. And,
(4.) To those who make a profession and have a visibility
of this latter sort of sincere Christianity, and are nominally
such kind of saints, but are not so indeed. — So that here
are two sorts of real Christians, and two sorts of visible
Christians ; two sorts of invisible and real churches of
Christ, and two sorts of visible churches. Now will any
one that is well acquainted with the New Testament say,
there is in that the least appearance or shadow of such a
four-fold use of the words, saints, disciples, &c. ? lt is
manifest by what was observed before, that these words
are there used but two ways ; and that those of mankind to
whom these names are applied, are there distinguished
into but two sorts, viz. Those who have really a saving in
terest in Christ, spiritual conformity and union to him,
and those who have a name for it, as having a profession
and appearance of it. And this is further evident by
various representations, which we there find of the visible
church ; as in the company of virgins that went forth to
meet the bridegroom, we find a distinction of them into
but two sorts, viz. The wise that had both lamps and oil ;
and those who had lamps indeed like the wise virgins,
(therein having an external show of toe same thing,; but
really had no oil ; signifying toat they had the same pro
fession and outward show of religion, and entertained the
same hopes with the wise virgins. So when the visible
church is represented by the husbandman's floor, we find
a distinction but of two sorts, viz. the wheat and the chaff.
And, when the church is compared to the husbandman's
field, we find a distinction but of two sorts, the wheat and
the tares, which (naturalists observe) appear exactly like
the wheat, till it comes to bring forth its fruit ; represent
ing, that those who are only visible Christians, have an ap
pearance of the nature of wheat, which shall be gathered
into Christ's bam, toat is, of the nature of saving grace.
2. It is evident, that those who had the name of disciples
in the times of toe New Testament, bore that name with
reference to a visibility of the same relation to Christ,
which they had who should he finally owned as his. Tin-
is manifest, John viii. 30, 31. "As he spake these words,
many believed on him. Then said Jesus to those Jews
which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then
are ye my disciples indeed." (Compare Luke xiv. 25, 26,
27. and John xv. 8.) Trie phrase, disciples indeed, is rela
tive ; and has reference to a visibility, pretence, or name,
only, to which it is set in opposition; which makes it
evident, that those who then bore the name of disciples, had
a visibility and pretence of discipleship indeed. For true
discipleship is not properly set in opposition to any thing
else but a pretence to the same thing, that is not true. The
phrase, gold indeed, is in opposition to something that has
the appearance of that same metal, and not to an appear
ance of 6r«ss. If there were another sort of real disciple
ship in those days, besides saving discipleship, persons
might be Christ's disciples indeed, or truly, (as the word in
toe original is,) without continuing in his word, and without
selling all that they had?- and without hating father and
mother and their own lives, for his sake. By this it ap
pears, that those who bore the name of disciples in those
times were distinguished into but two sorts, disciples in
name or visibility, and disciples indeed ; and that the visi-

440

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Part II.

bility and profession of the former was of the discipleship
of the latter.
3. The same thing is evident by 1 John ii. 19. "They
went out from us, because they were not of us : If they
had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with
us." — The words naturally suggest and imply, that those
professing Christians, who at last proved false, did, before
they went out, seem to belong to the society of the true
saints, or those endued with persevering grace and holi
ness. They seemed to be of their number, and so were
accepted in the judgment of charity.
4. The name that visible Christians had in the days of
the New Testament, was of saving Christianity, and not of
moral sincerity ; for they had a name to live, though many
of them were dead, Rev. iii. 1 . Nov/ it is very plain what
that is in religion which is called by thename of iife,all over
the New Testament, viz. saving grace ; and I do not know
that any thing else, of a religious nature, is ever so called.
5. The visibility of saintship in the apostles' days, was
not of moral sincerity, but gracious sincerity, or saving
saintship. For they are spoken of as being visibly of the
number of those saints who shall judge the world, and
judge angels. 1 Cor. vi. 1, 2, 3. " Dare any of you, hav
ing a matter against another, go to law before the unjust,
and not before the saints ? Do ye not know, that the saints
shall judge the world? And if the world shall be judged by
you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters?
Know ye not that we shall judge angels ?" These things
manifestly imply, that if the christian Corinthians were
what they supposed they were, what they professed to be,
and whai; they were accepted to be, they were some of
those saints who at the day of judgment should judge
angels and men.
6. That the visibility was not only of moral sincerity but
saving grace, is manifest, because the apostle speaks of
visible christians as visible " members of Christ's body, of
his flesh, and of his bones, and one spirit with him, are-
temples of the Holy Ghost," Eph. v. 30. and 1 Cor. vi.
16, 19. And the apostle Peter speaks of visible Chris
tians as those who were visibly such righteous persons as
should be saved ; and that are distinguished from the un
godly, and them that obey not the gospel, who shall perish.
1 Pet. iv. 16, 17, 18. " Yet if any man suffer as a Chris
tian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God on
this behalf. For the time is come that judgment must be
gin at the house of God ; " and if it first begin at us,"
(as Christians, comprehending himself, and those to whom
he wrote, and all of thatsort,) " what shall the end of them
be that obey not the gospel of God ? And if the righteous
scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and sinners ap
pear 1"
7. That the visibility was not merely of moral sincerity,
but of that sort of saintship which the saints in heaven
have, is manifest by this, that they are often spoken of as
visibly belonging to heaven, and as of the society of the
saints in heaven. So the apostle in his Epistle to the
Ephesians speaks of them as visibly of the same household
or family of God, a part of which is in heaven. Chap. ii.
19. " Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreign
ers, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the house
hold of God." Together with the next chapter, verse 15.
" Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named."
Where the context and continuation of d iscourse demon
strates, that he is still speaking of the same family or
household he had spoken of in the latter part of the pre
ceding chapter. So all visible Christians are spoken of as
visibly the children of the church which is in heaven.
Gal. iv. 26. " Jerusalem which is above, is free, which is
the mother of us all." The same apostle speaks of visible
Christians as being visibly come to the heavenly city, and
having joined the glorious company of angels there, and as
visibly belonging to the " general assembly and church of
the first-bom, that are written in heaven, and to the spirits
of just men made perfect," Heb. xii. 22, 23. And else
where they are spoken of as being visibly of the number of
those who have their " names written in the book of life,"
Rev. iii. 5. and xxii. 19. They who truly have theirnames
written in the book of life, are God's true saints, that have
saving grace : as is evident by Rev. xiii. 8. " And all that
dwell on the earth, shall worship him, whose names are

not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from the
foundation ofthe world."' And chap. xx. 12. " Andanothei
book was opened, which was the book of life." Ver. 15.
"And whosoever was not found written in the book of life,
was cast into thelake of fire." We are told in the conclusion
of this chapter, how they were disposed of whose names
were not written in the book of life; and then the prophet
proceeds, in the next chapter, to tell us, how they were
disposed whose names were found there written, viz. that
they were admitted into the New Jerusalem. Verse 27.
" And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that de-
fileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh
a lie ; but they which are written in the Lamb's book of
life." And yet in the next chapter it is implied, that some
who were not truly gracious persons, and some that should
finally perish, were visibly ofthe number of those that had
both a part in the New Jerusalem, and also their names
written in the book of life. Verse 19. " And if any man
shall take away from the words of the book of this pro
phecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life,
and out of the holy city."
8. That baptism, by which the primitive converts were
admitted into the church, was used as an exhibition and
token of their being visibly " regenerated, dead to sin, alive
to God, havingthe old man crucified, being delivered from
the reigning power of sin, being made free from sin, and
become the servants of righteousness, those servants of
God that have their fruit unto that holiness whose end is
everlasting life;" as is evident by Rom.vi. throughout. In
the former part of the chapter, he speaks of the Christian
Romans, as " dead to sin, being^ buried with Christ in
baptism, having their old man crucified with Christ," &c.
He does not mean only, that their baptism laid them under
special obligations to these things, and was a mark and
token of their engagement to be thus hereafter ; but was
designed as a mark, token, and exhibition, of their being
visibly thus already. As is most manifest by the apostle's
prosecution of his argument in the following part of the
chapter. Verse 14. " For sin shall not have dominion
over you, for ye are not under the law, but under grace."
Verse 17, 18. "God be thanked, ye were the servants of
sin, but ye have obeyed from the heart that form of doc
trine which was delivered you. Being then made free from
sin, ye became the servants of righteousness." Verse 22.
" But now being made free from sin, and become servants
to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end ever
lasting life."
9. It is evident, that it is not only a visibility of moral
sincerity in religion, which is the scripture qualification of
admission into the christian church, but a visibility of re
generation and renovation of heart, because it was foretold
that God's people and the ministers of his house in the
days of the Messiah, should not admit into the christian
church any that were not visibly circumcised in heart.
Ezek. xliv. 6 — 9. " And thou shalt say to the rebellious,
even to the house of Israel, Thus saith the Lord God, O
ye house of Israel, let it suffice you of all your abomina
tions, in that ye have brought into my sanctuary strangers
uncircumcised in heart,and uncircumcised in flesh, to be in
my sanctuary to pollute it, even my house, when ye offer
my bread, the fat, and the blood ; and they have broken
my covenant, because of all your abominations : and ye
have not kept the charge of mine holy things, but ye have
set keepers of my charge in my sanctuary for yourselves.
Thus saith the Lord, No stranger uncircumcised in heart,
nor uncircumcised in flesh, shall enter into my sanctuary, of
anv stranger that is among the children of Israel."
The venerable author ofthe Appeal to the Learned, says,
page 10. " That this scripture has no particular reference
to the Lord's supper." I answer, thoi gh I do not sup
pose it has merely a reference to that ordinance, yet I think
it manifest, that it has a reference to admitting persons
into the christian church, and to external church privi
leges. It might be easy to prove, that these nine last
chapters of Ezekiel must be a vision and prophecv of the
state of things in the church of God in the Messiah's days;
but I suppose it will not be denied, it being a thing
wherein divines are so generally agreed. And I suppose,
none will dispute but that by the house of God and his
sanctuary, which it is here foretold the uncircumcised in

Sect. I.

CHURCH MEMBERS SHOULD BE VISIBLE SAINTS.

441

heart should not be admitted into in the days of the gos
pel, is meant the same house, sanctuary, or temple of God,
that the prophet had just before been speaking of, in
the foregoing part of the same chapter, and been describ
ing throughout the four preceding chapters. But we all
know, that the New Testament house of God is his church.
Heb. iii. 3. " For this man was counted worthy of more
glory than Moses, inasmuch as he who builded the
Ac-use, hath more honour than the house." Verse 6.
" But Christ as a Son over his own house, whose house
are we," &c. 2 Tim. ii. 20. " In a great house there are
not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and
of earth," &c. 1 Tim. iii. 15. "That thou mayest know
how thou oughtest to behave thyself in the house of God,
which is the church of the living God." Eph. ii. 20, 21.
" And are built upon the foundation of the prophets and
apostles, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone ;
in whom all the building fitly framed together, groweth
into an holy temple in the Lord." 1 Cor. iii. 9. " Ye are
God's building." Verse 16. " Know ye not, that ye are
the temple of God ?" 1 Pet. ii. 5. " Ye also as lively
stones are built up a spiritual house." Chap. iv. 17. " For
the time is come, that judgment must begin at the house of
God : and if it begin at us, what shall the end be?" &c.
Heb. x. 21. " And having an high priest over the house of
God." Ezekiel's temple is doubtless the same which it is
foretold the Messiah should build. Zech. vi. 12, 13.
" The man whose name is the Branch— he shall build the
temple of the Lord, even he shall build the temple of the
Lord." And what the temple that Christ builds is, the
apostle tells us, Heb. iii. 3, 6. The temple that Ezekiel
in his vision was bid to observe the measures of, as mea
sured with a reed, (Ezek. xl. 3, 4.) we have reason to think,
was the same the apostle John in his vision was bid to
measure with a reed, Rev. xi. 1. And when it is here fore
told, that the uncircumcised in heart should not enter into
the Christian sanctuary or church, nor have communion in
the offerings of God's bread, of the fat and blood, that were
made there, I think so much 'is at least implied, that they
should not have communion in those ordinances ofthe chris
tian sanctuary, in which that body and blood of Christ were
symbolically represented, which used of old to be symbo
lically represented by the fat and the blood. For the ad
mission into the christian church here spoken of, is an
admission into toe visible, and not the mystical, church ;
for such an admission is spoken of as is made by the
officers of the church. And I suppose it will not be
doubted, but that by circumcision of heart is meant the
spiritual renewing of the heart ; not any common virtues,
which do not in the least change the nature, and mortify
the corruption of the heart; as is held by all orthodox
divines, and as Mr. Stoddard in particular abundantly in
sisted. However, if any body disputes it, I desire that
the Scripture may be allowed to speak for itself; for it
very often speaks of circumcision of heart, and this every
where, both in the Old Testament and New, manifestly
signifies that great change of heart that was typified by the
ceremony of circumcision of the flesh. The same which
afterwards was signified by baptism, viz. regeneration, or
else the progress of that work in sanctification ; as we read
of the washing of regeneration, &c. The apostle tells us
what was signified both by circumcision and baptism,
Col. ii. 11, 12. " In whom also ye are circumcised with
the circumcision made without hands, in putting off the
sins of the flesh by the circumcision of Christ, buried with
him in baptism; wherein also you are risen with him,
through the faith of the operation of God." Where I
would observe by toe way, he speaks of all the members
of the church of Colosse as visibly circumcised with this
circumcision ; agreeable to Ezekiel's prophecy, that the
members of the christian church shall visibly have this
circumcision. The apostle speaks, in like manner, of the
members of the church of Philippi as spiritually circum
cised, (i. e. in profession and visibility,) and tells wherein
this circumcision appeared. Philip, "iii. 3. "For we are
the circumcision, which worship God in the spirit, and re
joice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh."
And in Rom. ii. 28, 29. the apostle speaks of this christian
and Jewish circumcision together, calling the former the
circumcision of the heart. " But he is not a Jew which is

one outwardly, neither is that circumcision which is out
ward in the flesh ; but he is a Jew, which is one inward
ly, and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, not m
the letter ; whose praise is not of men, but of God." And
whereas in this prophecy of Ezekiel it is foretold, that none
should enter into the christian sanctuary or church, but
such as are circumcised in heart and circumcised in flesh ;
thereby I suppose is intended, that none should be ad
mitted but such as were visibly regenerated, as well as
baptized with outward baptism.
By what has been observed, I think it abundantly evi
dent, that the saintship, godliness, and holiness, of which,
according to Scripture, professing Christians and visible
saints do make a profession and have a visibility, is not
any religion and virtue that is the result of common grace,
or 'moral sincerity, (as it is called,) but saving grace.— Yet
there are many other clear evidences of the same thing,
which may in some measure appear in all the following
part of this discourse.

SECT. II.
All who are capable of it are bound to make an explicit
open profession of the true religion.
I come to another reason, why I answer the question at
first proposed, in the negative, viz. That it is a duty which
in an ordinary state of things is required of all that are
capable of it,' to make an explicit open profession ofthe
true religion, by owning God's covenant; or, in other
words, professedly and verbally to unite themselves to God
in his covenant, by their own public act.
Here I would (first) prove this point ; and then ( se
condly) draw the consequence, and show how this de
monstrates the thing in debate. .
First, I shall endeavour to establish this point, viz. lhat
it is the duty of God's people thus publicly to own the
covenant; and that it was not only a duty in Israel of old,
but is so in the christian church, and to the end of the
world ; and that it is a duty required of adult persons before
thev come to sacraments. And this being a point of great
consequence in this controversy, but a matter seldom
handled, (though it seems to be generally taken for grant
ed,) I shall be the more particular in the consideration of it.
This not only seems to be in itself most consonant to
reason, and is a duty generally allowed in New England,
but is evidently a great institution of the word of God,
appointed as a very important part of that public religion
by which God's people should give honour to his name.
This institution we have in Deut. vi. 13. " Thou shalt fear
the Lord thy God, and serve him, and shalt swear by his
name." It "is repeated, chap. x. 20. " Thou shalt fear the
Lord thy God, him shalt thou serve, and to him shalt thou
cleave, and swear by his name." In both places it might
have been rendered ; thou shalt swear in his name, or into
his name. In the original, bishmo, with the prefix beth,
which signifies ire or into, as well as by. And whereas, in
the latter place, in our translation, it is said, to him shaft
thou cleave and swear by his name. The words are thus in
the Hebrew, ubho thidhbak ubhishmo tisshabheang. The
literal translation of which is, into him shalt thou cleave,
[or unite,] and into his name shalt thou swear. There is
the same prefix, beth, before him, when it is said, Thou
shalt cleave to him, as before his name, when it is said,
Thou shalt swear by his name. Swearing into God's name,
is a verv emphatical and significant way of expressing a
person's taking on himself, by his own solemn profession,
the name of God, as one of his people ; or by swearing to
or covenanting with God, uniting himself by his own act
to the people that is culled by his name. The figure of
speech is something like that by which Christians in the
New Testament are said to be baptized *« " »"7"' ISTO
the name ofthe Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
So Christians are said to be baptized into Christ, Gal m.
17. This swearing by the name, or into the name, of the
Lord, is so often, and' in such a manner, spoken of bv the
prophets as a great duty of God's solemn public worship,
as much as praying or sacrificing, that it would be unrea
sonable to' understand it only, or chiefly, of occasionally

442

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

taking an oath before a court of judicature, which, it may
be, one tenth part of tbe people never had occasion to do
once in their lives. If we well consider the matter, we
shall see abundant reason to be satisfied, that the thing
intended in this institution was publicly covenanting with
God. Covenanting in Scripture is very often called by
the name of swearing, and a covenant is called an oath.*
And particularly God's covenant is called his oath, Deut.
xxxix. 12. " That thou shouldst enter into covenant with
the Lord thy God, and into his oath." Ver. 14. " Neither
with you only do I make this covenant and this oath."
1 Chron. xvi. 15, 16. " Be ye mindful always of his cove
nant : — -Even ofthe covenant which he made with Abraham,
and his oath unto Isaac." 2 Chron. xv. 1 2." And they en
tered into covenant to seek the Lord God of their fathers."
Ver. 14, 15. " And they sware unto the Lord with a loud
voice : and all Judah rejoiced at the oath." Swearing to the
Lord, or swearing ire or into the name of the Lord, are
equipollent expressions in the Bible. The prefixes beth and
lamed are evidently used indifferently in this case to signify
the same thing, Zeph. i. 5. " That swear by the Lord, and
that swear by Malcham." The word translated to the Lord,
is Laihovah, with the prefix lamed; but to Malcham, is
Bemalcham with the prefix beth, into Malcham. In 1 Kings
xviii. 32. it is said, " Elijah built an altar in the name of
the- Lord;" beshem. Here the prefix beth is manifestly of
the same force with lamedfm 1 Kings viii. 44. " The house
I have built for thy name or to thy name;" leshem.
God's people in swearing to his name, or into his name,
according to the institution, solemnly professed two things,
viz. their faith and obedience. The former part of this
profession of religion was called, Saying, the Lord liveth.
Jer. v. 2. " And though they say, the Lord liveth, yet
surely they swear falsely." Verse 7. " They have sworn
by them that are no gods :" that is, they had openly
professed idol-worship. Chap. iv. 2. " Thou shalt swear,
the Lord liveth, in truth, in judgment, and in righteous
ness ; and the nations shall bless themselves in him, and
in him shall they glory." (Compare this with Isaiah xiv.
23, 24, 25.) Jer. xliv. 26. " Behold I have sworn by my
great name, saith the Lord, that my name shall no more
be named in the mouth of any man of Judah in all the
land of Egypt, saying, the Lord liveth :" i. e. They shall
never any more make any profession of the true God, and
of the true religion, but shall be wholly given up to hea
thenism. See also Jer. xii. 16. and xvi. 14, 15. and xxiii.
7, 8. Hos. iv. 15. Amos viii. 14. and ver. 5.
These words, CHAI JEHOVAH, Jehovah liveth, sum
marily comprehend a profession of faith in that all-suffi
ciency and immutability of God, which is implied in the
name JEHOVAH, and which attributes are very often
signified in Scripture by God's being the LIVING GOD,
as is very manifest from Josh. iii. 10. 1 Sam. xvii. 26, 36.
2 Kings xix. 4, 16. Dan. vi. 26. Psalm xviii. 46. and in
numerable other places.
The other thing professed in swearing into toe Lord
was obedience, called, Walking in the name of the Lord.
Micah iv. 5. " All people will walk every one in the
name of his god, and we will walk in the name of the
Lord our God for ever and ever." Still with the prefix
beth, beshem, as they were said to swear beshem, in the
name, or into, toe name of the Lord.
This institution, in Deuteronomy, of swearing into the
name of the Lord, or visibly and explicitly uniting them
selves to him in covenant, was not prescribed as an extra
ordinary duty, to be performed on a return from a general
apostacy, and some other extraordinary occasions : but is
evidently mentioned in the institution, as a part of the
public worship of God to be performed by all God's
people, properly belonging to toe visible worshippers of
Jehovah ; and so it is very often mentioned by toe pro
phets, as I observed before, and could largely demon
strate, if there was occasion for it, and would not too much
lengthen out this discourse.
And this was not only an institution belonging to Israel
under the Old Testament, but also to Gentile converts,
and Christians under the New Testament. Thus God
declares concerning the Gentile nations, Jer. xii. 16. " If
* As Gen. xxi 23, to the end. xxvi. 28, to the end. xxxi. 44, 53. Josh. ii.

they will diligently learn the ways of my people, to swear
by my name, the Lord liveth, as they taught my
people to swear by Baal : then shall they be built in the
midst of my people," i. e. They shall be added to my
church ; or as toe apostle Paul expresses it, Eph. n. 19—
22. " They shall be no more strangers and foreigners, but
fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of
God, and be built upon the foundation of Christ ; in whom
all the building fitly framed together, &c— In whom
they also shall be builded for an habitation of God
through the Spirit." So it is foretold, that the way of
public covenanting should be the way of the Gentiles
joining toemselves to the church in the days of the gospel,
I«a. xliv. 3 — 5. " I will pour water upon him that is
thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground ; I will pour my
Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thine offspnng,
and they shall spring up as among the grass, as willows
by the water-courses ; one shall say, I am the Lord's, and
another shall call himself by the name of Jacob, and
another shall subscribe with his hand unto toe Lord,"— as
subscribing an instrument whereby they bound them
selves to the Lord. This was subscribing and covenant
ing themselves into the name of Israel, and swearing into
the name of the Lord, in the language of those foremen
tioned texts in Deuteronomy. So taking hold of God's
covenant, is foretold as the way in which the sons of the
stranger in the days of the gospel should be joined to
God's church, and brought into God's sanctuary, and to
have communion in its worship and ordinances, in Isa.
lvi. 3, 6, 7. So in Isa. xix. 18. the future conversion of
the Gentiles in the days of the gospel, and their being
brought to profess the true religion, is expressed by saying,
that they should Swear to the Lord of hosts. " In
that day shall five cities in the land of Egypt speak the
language of Canaan, and swear to the Lord of hosts." So
in Jer. xxiii. 5—8. it seems to be plainly foretold, that
after Christ is come, and has wrought out his great redemp
tion, the same way of publicly professing faith in the all-
sufficient and immutable God, by swearing, The Lord
liveth, should be continued, which was instituted of old ;
but only with this difference, that whereas formerly they
covenanted wito God as their Redeemer out of Egypt,
now they shall as it were forget that work, and have a
special respect to a much greater redemption. " Behold,
the days come, saith the Lord, that I will raise unto
David a righteous Branch. — Therefore they shall no more
say, The Lord liveth, which brought up the children of
Israel out of toe land of Egypt ; but, The Lord liveth,
wbich brought up, and which led toe seed of the house of
Israel out of the north country," &c.
Another remarkable place wherein it is plainly foretold,
that the like method of professing religion should be con
tinued in the days of the gospel, is Isaiah xiv. 22 — 25.
" Look unto me, and be ye saved, all ye ends of the
earth ; for I am God, and there is none else : I have
sworn by myself, the word is gone out of my mouth in
righteousness, and shall not return, that unto me every
knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear : surely
shall one say, In the Lord have I righteousness and
strength : even to him shall men come : — in the Lord
shall all the seed of Israel be justified, and shall glory."
This prophecy will have its last fulfilment at the day of
judgment ; but it is plain, that the thing most directly in
tended is the conversion of the Gentile world to the chris
tian religion. What is here called swearing, the apostle,
in citing this place, once and again calls confessing ; Rom.
xiv. 11. — " Every tongue shall confess to God. Philip.
ii. 10. — "That everv tongue should confess that Jesus
Christ is Lord." Which is the word commonly used in
the New Testament, to signify making a public profession
of religion. So Rom. x. 9, 10. " If thou shaft confess
with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine
heart, that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt
be saved : for with the heart man believeth unto righteous
ness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salva
tion." Where a public profession of religion with the
mouth is evidently spoken of as a great duty of all Christ's
people, as well as believing in him ; and ordinarily requi-
12, to 1 Sam. xx. 16. 17, 42. 2 Kings xi. 4. Eccl. viii. 2. Ezek. xvi. 59.
xvii. 16. ana many other places.

Sect. III.

PROFESSION SHOULD BE OF REAL PIETY.

443

site to salvation ; not that it is necessary in the same
manner that faith is, but in like manner as baptism is.
Faith and verbal profession are jointly spoken of here as
necessary to salvation, in the same manner as faith and
baptism are, in Mark xvi. 16. " He that believeth and is
baptized, shall be saved." And I know no good reason
why we should not look on moral profession and cove
nanting with Christ, in those, who are capable of it, as much
of a stated duty in the christian church, and an institution
universally pertaining to the followers of Christ, as baptism.
And if explicit, open covenanting with God be a great
duty required of all, as has been represented, then it ought
to be expected of persons before they are admitted to the
privileges of the adult in the church of Christ. Surely it
is proper, if this explicit covenanting takes place at all,
that it should take place before persons come to those or
dinances wherein they, by their own act, publicly confirm
and seal this covenant. This public transaction of cove
nanting, which God has appointed, ought to have exist
ence, before we publicly confirm and seal this transaction.
It was that by which the Israelites of old were introduced
into the communion of God's nominal or visible church
and holy city : as appears by Isaiah xlviii. 1, 2. " Hear
ye this, O house of Jacob, which are called by the
name of Israel, and are come forth out of the waters
of Judah, which swear by the name of the Lord,
and make mention of the God of Israel, but not in truth
nor in righteousness : for they call themselves of
the holy city," &c. When, and after what manner par
ticularly, the Israelites ordinarily performed this explicit
covenanting, I do not know that we can be certain. But,
as it was first done on occasion of God's first promulgat
ing his law or covenant at mount Sinai — on a repetition or
renewed promulgation of it on the plains of Moab — on the
public reading of the law in Josiah's time (2 Kings xxiii.
3.) — on after the return from the captivity — and on the
public reading of it at the feast of tabernacles (Neh. viii.
ix. and x.) so it appears to me most likely, that it was
done every seventh year, when the law or covenant of God
was, by divine appointment, read in the audience of all the
ieople at the feast of tabernacles ; at least by all who then
eard the law read the first time, and who never had
publicly owned the covenant of God before. There are
good evidences that they never had communion in those
ordinances which God had appointed as seals of his cove
nant, wherein toey themselves were to be active, such as
their sacrifices, &c. till they had done it. It is plainly
implied in Psal. 1. that it was the manner in Israel vocally
to own God's covenant, or to take it into their mouths, be
fore toey sealed that covenant in their sacrifices. See ver.
16. taken with the preceding part of the psalm, from ver.
5. And that toey did it before they partook of the pass-
over, (which indeed was one of their sacrifices,) or entered
into the sanctuary for communion in the temple-worship,
is confirmed by the words of Hezekiah, when he proclaim
ed a passover, 2 Chron. xxx. 8. " Now be ye not stiff-
necked, as your fathers were ; but yield yourselves unto
the Lord, (in the Hebrew, Give the hand to the Lord,)
and enter into his sanctuary, which he hath sanctified for
ever, and serve the Lord your God." To give tlie hand,
seems to be a Hebrew phrase for entering into covenant,
or obliging themselves by covenant, Ezra x. 19. "And
they gave their hands that toey would put away their
wives.' And, as has been already observed, it was foretold
that Christians should in this way be admitted to com
munion in the privileges of the church of Christ. — Having
thus established the premises of the argument, I now come
to toe consequence.

E

SECT. III.
That none ought to be admitted to the privileges of adult
persons in the church of Christ, but such as make a pro
fession of real piety.
The covenant to be owned or professed, is God's cove
nant, which he has revealed as the method of our spiritual
union with him, and our acceptance as the objects of his
eternal favour; which is no other than toe covenant of

grace ; at least it is so, without dispute, in these days of
the gospel. To own this covenant, is to profess the con
sent of our hearts to it ; and that is the sum and substance
of true piety. It is not only professing toe assent of our
understandings that we understand toere is such a covenant,
or that we understand we are obliged to comply with it ;
but it is to profess the consent of our wills, it is to mani
fest that we do comply with it. There is mutual profession
in this affair, a profession on Christ's part, and a profes
sion on our part ; as it is in marriage. And it is the
same sort of profession that is made on both sides, in this
respect, that each professes a consent of heart. Christ in
his word declares an entire consent of heart as to what he
offers ; and the visible Christian, in the answer that he
makes to it in his christian profession, declares a consent
and compliance of heart to his proposal. Owning the
covenant is professing to make the transaction of that
covenant our own. The transaction of toat covenant is that
of espousals to Christ ; on our part, it is giving our souls
to Christ as his spouse. There is no one thing that the
covenant of grace is so often compared to in Scripture, as
the marriage-covenant; and the visible transaction, or
mutual profession, there is between Christ and the visible
church, is abundantly compared to the mutual profession
there is in marriage. In marriage the bride professes to
yield to the bridegroom's suit, and to take him for her
husband, renouncing all others, and to give up herself to
him to be entirely and for ever possessed by him as his
wife. But he that professes this towards Christ, professes
saving faith. They that openly covenanted with God ac
cording to the tenor ofthe institution, Deut. x. 20. visibly
united themselves to God in the union of that covenant.
They professed on their parts the union of the covenant of
God, which was the covenant of grace. It is said in the
institution, " Thou shalt cleave to the Lord, and swear by
his name;" or as the words more literally are, "Thou
shalt unite unto toe Lord, and swear into his name." So
in Isaiah lvi. it is called a "joining themselves to the
Lord." But the union, cleaving, or joining of that cove
nant, is saving faith, the grand condition or the covenant
of Christ, by which we are in Christ. This is what [on
our part] brings us into the Lord. For a person explicitly
or professedly to enter into toe union or relation of the
covenant of grace with Christ, is the same as professedly
to do that which on our part is the uniting act, and that is
the act of faith. To profess the covenant of grace, is to
profess it, not as a spectator, but as one immediately
concerned in the affair, as a party in the covenant pro
fessed ; and this is to profess that in the covenant which
belongs to us as a party, or to profess our part in the cove
nant ; and that is the soul's believing acceptance of the
Saviour. Christ's part is salvation, our part is a saving
faith in him ; not a feigned, but unfeigned faith ; not a
common, but special and saving faith ; no other faith is
the condition ot the covenant of grace.
I know the distinction made by some, between the in
ternal and external covenant ; but, I hope, toe divines that
make this distinction, would not be understood, that there
are really and properly two covenants of grace ; but only
that those who profess the one only covenant of grace,
are of two sorts. There are those who comply with it in
ternally and really, and others who do so only externally,
that is, in profession and visibility. But he that externally
and visibly complies wito the covenant of grace, appears
and professes to do so really.— There is also this distinc
tion concerning the covenant of grace ; it is exhibited two
ways, the one externally, by the preaching of the word, the
other internally and spiritually, by enlightening the mind
rightly to understand the word. But it is with the cove
nant, as it is with the call of the gospel : he that really
complies wito the external call, has the internal call ; so he
that truly complies with the external proposal of God's
covenant, as visible Christians profess to do, does indeed
perform the inward condition of it. But the New Testa
ment affords no more foundation for supposing two real
and properly distinct covenants of grace, than it does to
suppose two sorts of real Christians.
When those persons who were baptized in infancy pro
perly own their baptismal covenant, the meaning is, that
they now, being capable to act for themselves, do profess-

444

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II,

edly and explicitly make their parents' act, in giving toem
up to God, their own, by expressly giving themselves up
to God. But this no person can do, without either being
deceived, or dissembling and professing what he himself
supposes to be a falsehood, unless he supposes that in his
heart he consents to be God's. A child of christian
parents never does that for himself which his parents did
for him in infancy, till he gives himself wholly to God.
But surely he does not do it, who not only keeps back a
part, but the chief part, his heart and soul. He that keeps
back his heart, does in effect keep back all ; and there
fore, if he be sensible of it, is guilty of solemn wilful
mockery, if at the same time he solemnly and publicly
professes toat he gives himself up to God. If there are
any words used by such, which in their proper signification
imply toat they give toemselves up to God ; and if these
words, as they intend them to be understood, and as they
are understood by those that hear them, according to toeir
established use and custom among that people, do not
imply, that toey do it really, but do truly reserve or keep
back the chief part ; it ceases to be a profession of giving
themselves up to God, and so ceases to be a professed
covenanting with God. The thing which they profess be
longs to no existing covenant of God ; for God has
revealed no such covenant, in which our transacting of it
is a giving up ourselves to him with reserve, or holding
back our souis, our chief part, and in effect our all. And
therefore, although such public and solemn professing may
be a very unwarrantable and great abuse of words, and
taking God's name in vain, it is no professed covenanting
with God.
One thing, as observed, that belonged to Israel's swear
ing into the name of the Lord, was saying, The Lord liveth ;
whereby toey professed their faith in God's all-sufficiency,
immutability, and faithfulness. But if they really had
such a faith, it was a saving grace. To them who indeed
trust in the all-sufficiency of God, he will surely be an
all-sufficient portion ; and them who trust in God's im
mutability and faithfulness, he surely will never leave nor
forsake. There were two ways of swearing Jehovah liveth,
that we read of in Scripture; one we read of, Jer. ii. 2.
" Thou shalt swear, The Lord liveth, in truth, in judg
ment, and in righteousness :" and the other way is swear
ing falsely, which we read of in the next chapter, verse 2,
3. "' And though thev say, The Lord liveth, yet surely they
swear falsely." And certainly none ought to do this. It
follows, " 0 Lord, are not thine eyes upon the truth ?" i. e.
God desires sincerity of heart in those that profess religion.
Here a gracious sincerity is opposed to a false profession ;
for when it is said, " O Lord, are not thine eyes upon the
truth?" the expression is parallel with Ps. li. 6. "Behold
thou desirest truth in the inward parts." 1 Sam. xvi. 7.
" Man looketh on the outward appearance, but toe Lord
looketh on the heart." Ps. xi. 7. " His countenance doth
behold the upright." But these texts speak of a gracious
sincerity. Those spoken of, Jer. iv. 2. that " swarc, The
Lord liveth, in truth, in judgment, and righteousness,"
were gracious persons, who had a thorough conversion to
God, as appears by the preceding verse, " If thou wilt
return, O Israel, saith toe Lord, return unto me ;" i. c. Do
not do as Judah was charged with doing in the foregoing
chapter, verse 10. " Judah hath not turned unto me wito
her whole heart, but feignedly." Do not do thus, " but if
thou wilt return, return unto me." And then it is added
in the second verse, " And thou shalt swear, The Lord
liveth, in truth," &c. ; toat is, then your profession of
religion will be worth regarding, you will be indeed what
you pretend to be, you will be Israelites indeed, in whose
profession is no guile. They who said, " The Lord liveth,
in truth, in judgment, and in righteousness ;" said. The
Lord liveth, as David did, Ps. xviii. 46. " The Lord liveth,
and blessed be my Rock." And as the apostle says he
did, 1 Tim. iv. 10. " We trust in the living God, who is
toe Saviour of all men, especially of those that believe."
And as he would have Timothy exhort rich men to do,
chap. vi. 1 7. " That they trust not in uncertain riches, but
in toe living God." When the apostle speaks of a pro
fession of our faith in Christ, as one duty which all Chris
tians ought to perform as they seek salvation, it is the pro
fession of a saving faith. His words plainly imply it:

" If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus,
and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him
from the dead, thou shalt be saved." The faith which was
to be professed with the mouth, was toe same which the
apostle speaks of as in the heart, but that is saving faith.
The latter is yet plainer in the following words ; " for with
the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the
mouto confession is made unto salvation." Believing unto
righteousness, is saving faith ; but it is evidently the same
faith which is spoken of, as professed with the mouth, in the
next words in the same sentence. And that toe Gentiles,
in professing the christian religion, or swearing to Christ,
should profess saving faith, is implied, Isa. xiv. 23, 24.—
" Every tongue shall swear; surely shall one say, In the
Lord have I righteousness and strength;" i. e. should
profess entirely to depend on Christ's righteousness and
strength. For persons merely to promise, that they will believe in
Christ, or toat toey will hereafter comply with toe con
ditions and duties of toe covenant of grace, is not to own
that covenant. Such persons do not profess now to eDter
into the covenant of grace with Christ, or into toe relation
of that covenant to Christ. All they do at present, is to
say, they will do it hereafter ; they profess, that toey will
hereafter obey that command of God, to believe on the name
of his Son Jesus Christ. But what is such a profession
good for, and what credit is to be given to such promises
of future obedience ; when at the same time they pretend
no' other at present, than to live and continue in rebellion
against those great commands which give no allowance or
licence for delay ? They who do thus, instead of properly
owning the covenant, do rather for the present visibly reject
it. It is not unusual, in some churches, where the doc
trine I oppose has been established, for persons at the
same time that they come into the church, and pretend to
own toe covenant, freely to declare to their neighbours,
they have no imagination that they have any true faith in
Christ, or love to him. Such persons, instead of being
professedly united to Christ, in the union of the covenant
of grace, are ratoer visibly destitute of the love of Christ ;
and so, instead of being qualified for admission to the
Lord's supper, are rather exposed to that denunciation of
toe apostle, 1 Cor. xvi. 22. " If any man love not the
Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maran-atoa."
That outward covenanting, which is agreeable to scrip
ture-institution, is not only a promising what is future,
(though toat is not excluded,) but a professing what is
present, as it is in the marriage-covenant. For a woman
to promise, that she will hereafter renounce all other men
for the sake of him who makes suit to her, and will in
some future time accept of him for her husband, is not for
her now to enter into the marriage-covenant with him. She
that does this with a man, professes now to accept of him,
renouncing all others ; though promises of hereafter be
having towards him as a wife, are also included in the
transaction. It seems toe primitive converts to Chris
tianity, in the profession they made of religion, in order to
their admission into the christian church, and in toeir
visibly entering into covenant, in order to the initiating
seal of the covenant in baptism, did not explicitly make
any promises of any thing future. They only professed
the present sentiments and habit of their minds, they pro
fessed that they believed in Christ, and so were admitted
into the church by baptism ; and yet undoubtedly toey
were, according to forementioned prophecies, admitted in
the way of public covenanting. As the covenant-people
of God, they owned the covenant, before the seal of the
covenant was applied. Their professing faith in Christ
was visibly owning toe covenant of grace, because faith in
Christ was the grand condition of that covenant. Indeed,
if the faith which they professed in order to baptism, was
only an historical or doctrinal faith, (as some suppose,) or
any common faith, it would not have been anv visible
entering into the covenant of grace ; for a common faith is
not the condition of toat covenant; nor would toere
properly have been any covenanting in the case. If we
suppose, the faith they professed was the grace by which
the soul is united to Christ, their profession was a cove
nanting in this respect also, that it implied an engagement
of future obedience ; for true faith in Christ includes in

Sect. III.

PROFESSION SHOULD BE OF REAL PIETY.

443

its nature an acceptance of him as our Lord and King,
and devoting ourselves to his service. But a profession of
historical faith implies no profession of accepting Christ
as our King, nor engagement to submit to him as such.
When tbe Israelites publicly covenanted with God, ac
cording to the institution in Deuteronomy, they did not
only promise something future, but professed something
present; they avouched Jehovah to be their God, and also
promised to keep his commands. Thus it was in that
solemn covenant-transaction between God and the people
on the plains of Moab ; which is summarily described,
Deut. xxvi. 17, 18. " Thou hast avouched the Lord this
day to be thy God, and to walk in his ways, and to keep
his statutes, and his commandments, and his judgments,
and to hearken unto his voice ; and the Lord hath avouch
ed thee this day to be his peculiar people, as he hath
promised thee, and that thou shouldst keep all his com
mandments." The people in avouching God for their
God, professed a compliance with the terms of the cove
nant of grace ; as summarily expressed in those words,
" I will be thy God, and thou shalt be my people." They
that avouch the Lord to be their God, profess to accept of
Jehovah as their God; and that is to accent him as the
object of their supreme respect and trust. For that which
we choose as the object of our highest regard, that, and
that only, do we take as our God. None therefore that
value and love the world more than Jehovah, can, without
lying, or being deceived, avouch Jehovah to be their God.
And none that do not trust in Christ, but trust more in
their own strength or righteousness, can avouch Christ to
be their Saviour. To avouch God to be our God, is to
profess that he is our God by our own act ; i. e. That we
choose him to be our chief good and last end, the supreme
object of our esteem and regard, to whom we devote our
selves. And if we are sensible that we do not do this
sincerely, we cannot profess that we actually do it ; for he
that does not do it sincerely, does not do it at all. There
is no room for the distinction of a moral sincerity and gra
cious sincerity in this case. A supreme respect of heart to
God, or a supreme love to him, which is real, is but of one
sort. Whoever does with any reality at all make God the
object of the supreme regard of his heart, is certainly a
gracious person. And whoever does not make God the
supreme object of his respect with a gracious sincerity,
certainly does not do it with any sincerity. I fear, while
leading people in many of our congregations, who have no
thought of their having the least spark of true love to God
in their hearts, to say, publicly and solemnly, that they
avouch God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, to be their
God, and that they give themselves up to him, we have led
toem to say they know not what. To be sure, they are
very obscure expressions, if they mean any thing that a
carnal man does, under the reigning power of sin and en
mity against God.
Here possibly it may be objected, that it is unreasonable
to suppose any such thing should be intended, in the pro
fession ofthe congregation in the wilderness, as a gracious
respect to God, that which is the condition of God's cove
nant, when we have reason to think that so few of them
were truly gracious. But I suppose, upon mature con
sideration, this will not appear at all unreasonable. It is
no more unreasonable to suppose this people to make a
profession of that respect to God, which they had not in
their hearts now, than at other times when we are inform
ed they did so, as in Ezek. xxxiii. 31. " They come unto
thee as the people cometh, and they sit before thee as my
people :" [i. e.as though they were my saints, as they pro
fess to be :] " For with their mouth they show much love,
but their heart goeth after their covetousness." So in the
apostle's time, people professed that to be in their hearts
towards God, which was not there. The apostle is speak
ing of them, when he says, Tit. i. 16. " They profess that
they know God, but in works they deny him." This was
common among that people ; God declares them to be an
hypocritical nation, Isaiah x. 6. And it is certain, this was
the case with them in the wilderness ; they there professed
that respect to God which they had not ; as is evident by
Psal. lxxviii. 36, 37. " They did flatter him with their
* See Num. xiv. 31. Deut. i. 39. and viii. 15, 16. Josh. xxii. 2. and ver. 11,

mouth, and they lied unto him with their tongues ; for their
heart was not right with him, neither were they stedfast in
his covenant." In owning the covenant with God, they
professed their heart was right with him, because it is
mentioned as an evidence of their having lied or dealt
falsely in their profession, that their heart was not right
with him, and so proved not stedfast in God's covenant,
which they had owned. If their heart had been right with
God, they would have been truly pious persons ; which is
a demonstration, that what toey professed was true piety.
It also appears that if they had had such a heart in them,
as they pretended to have, they would hay.e been truly
pious persons, Deut. v. where we have a rehearsal of their
covenanting at mount Sinai : Concerning this it is said,
verse 28, 29. " And the Lord heard the voice of your
words, when ye spake unto me ; and the Lord said unto
me, They have well said all that they have spoken. O
that there were such an heart in them, that they would fear
me, and keep all my commandments always, that it might
be well with them and with their children for ever." The
people were mistaken about their disposition and prepara
tion of heart to go through the business of God's service,
as the man in the parable, who undertook to build a tower
without counting the cost. Nor need it seem at all in
credible, that the generation who covenanted at mount
Sinai, should, the greater part of them, be deceived, and
think their hearts thoroughly disposed to give up them
selves for ever to God, if we consider how much they had
strongly to move their affections. They saw the wonders
wrought in Egypt and at the Red sea, where they were led
through on dry ground, and the Egyptians miraculously
destroyed; whereby their affections were greatly raised,
and they sang God's praises. And particularly they now
saw at mount Sinai, the astonishing manifestations of
God's majesty. Probably the greater part of the sinners
among them were deceived with false affections ; and if
there were others less affected and not deceived, it is not
incredible that they, in those circumstances, should wilful
ly dissemble in their profession, and so in a more gross
sense flatter God with their lips, and lie to him with their
tongues. And these things are more credible concerning a
generation peculiarly left to hardness and blindness of mind
in divine matters, and peculiarly noted in the book of
Psalms for hypocrisy. And the generation of their chil
dren, who owned the covenant on the plains of Moab, had
much to move their affections ; they saw the awful judg
ments of God on their fathers. God had brought them
through the wilderness, and subdued Sihon king of the
Amorites and Og the king of Bashan before them. — They
had heard Moses's affecting rehearsal of the whole series of
God's wonderful dealings with them, together with his
most pathetic exhortations. But it was also a time of great
revival of religion and powerful influence of the Spirit of
God, and that generation was probably the most excellent
that ever was in Israel. There is more good and less hurt
spoken of them, than of any other generation that we have
any account of in Scripture.* A very great part of them
swore in truth, in judgment, and in righteousness. And
no wonder that others at such a time fell in, either deceiv
ing, or being deceived, with common affections ; as is usual
in times of great works of God for his church, and of the
flourishing of religion. In succeeding generations, as the
people grew more corrupt, I suppose, their covenanting or
swearing into the name of the Lord degenerated into a
matter of mere form and ceremony ; even as subscribing
religious articles seems to have done with the church of
England ; and as, it is to be feared, owning the covenant,
as it is called, has too much done in New England ; it
being visibly a prevailing custom for persons to neglect
this, till they come to be married, and then to do it for their
credit's sake, and that their children may be baptized.
And I suppose, there was commonly a great laxness in
Israel among the priests who had the conduct of this
affair. There were many things in the nature of that com
paratively carnal dispensation, which negatively gave occa
sion for such things : that is, whereby it had by no means
so great a tendency to prevent such irregularities, as the
more excellent dispensation introduced by Christ and his
to the end, and xxiii. 8. Deut iv. 4. Josh. xxiv. 31. Judg. ii. 17, 22. Psal
lxviii. 14. Jer. U.2, 3, 2L and xxxi. 2, 3. Hos. ix. 10.

416

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

apostles. And though these things were testified against
by the prophets, before the Babylonish captivity ; yet God,
who is only wise, did designedly in a great measure wink
at these and manv other great irregularities in the church,
till the time of reformation should come, which the Mes
siah was to have the honour of introducing. But of these
things I may perhaps have occasion to say something
more, when I come to answer the objection conceming the
passover. Now to return to the argument from the nature of cove
nanting with God, or owning God's covenant. As to the
promises, which are herein either explicitly or implicitly
made ; these imply a profession of true piety. For, in the
covenant of grace universal obedience is engaged, obedi
ence to all the commands of God ; and the performance
of inward spiritual duties is as much engaged, as external
duties ; and in some respects much more. Therefore he
that visibly makes the covenant of grace his own, promises
to perform those internal duties, and to perform all duties
with a gracious sincerity. We have no warrant, in our
profession of God's covenant, to divide the duties of it, to
take some, and leave out others : especially to leave out
those great commands, of believing with the heart, of lov
ing the Lord our God with all our heart and with all our
soul, and our neighbour as ourselves. He that leaves out
these, in effect leaves out all ; for these are the sum of our
whole duty, and of all God's commands. If we leave these
out of our profession, surely it is not the covenant of grace
which we profess. The Israelites, when thev covenanted
with God at mount Sinai, and said, when God had de
clared to them the ten commandments, " All that the Lord
hath spoken will we do, and be obedient ;" promised, that
as thev professed to know God, they would ire works not
deny, but own and honour him, and would conform to
those two great commandments, which are the sum of all
the ten, and concerning which God said, " These words
which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart,"
Deut. vi. 6. — And when they covenanted on the plains of
Moab, they promised to keep and do God's commands,
"with all "their heart, and with all their soul," as is very
evident by Deut. xxvi. 16, 17. So it was also when the
people owned their covenant in Asa's time, 2 Chron. xv.
12. " They entered into a covenant to seek the Lord God
of their fathers, with all their heart, and with all their
soul." We have also another remarkable instance, 2 Kings
xxiii. 3. and 2 Chron. xxxiv. 31.
Now he who is wholly under the power of a carnal
mind, which is not subject to the law of God, nor indeed
can be, cannot promise these things without either great
deceit, or the most manifest and palpable absurdity.
Promising supposes the person to be conscious to himself,
or persuaded of himself, that he has such a heart in him ;
for his lips pretend to declare his heart. The nature of a
promise implies intention or design. And proper real in
tention implies will, disposition, and compliance of heart.
But no natural man is properly willing to do these duties,
nor does his heart comply with them : and to make natu
ral men believe otherwise, tends greatly to their hurt. A
natural man may be willing, from self-love, and from
sinister views, to use means and take pains that he may
obtain a willingness or disposition to these duties : but
that is a very different thing from actually being willing,
or truly having a disposition to them. So he may promise,
that he will, from some considerations or otoer, take great
pains to obtain such a heart ; but this is not the promise
of the covenant of grace. Men may make many religious
promises to God some way relating to toe covenant of
grace, which yet are not themselves toe promises of that
covenant ; nor is there any thing of the nature of cove
nanting in the case, because although toey should actually
fulfil toeir promises, God is not obliged by promise to
them. If a natural man promises to do all feat it is pos
sible for a natural man to do in religion, and fulfils his
promises, God is not obliged, by any covenant that he
has entered into with man, to perform any thing at all for
him, respecting his saving benefits. And therefore he that
promises these things only, enters into no covenant with
God ; because the very notion of entering into covenant
with any being, is entering into a mutual agreement, doing
or engaging that which, if done, the other party becomes

engaged on his part. The New Testament informs us but
of one covenant God enters into with mankind through
Christ, and that is the covenant of grace ; in which God
obliges himself to notoing in us that is exclusive of un
feigned faith, and the spiritual duties that attend it. There-
'fore if a natural man makes never so many vows, that he
will perform all external duties, and will pray for help to
do spiritual duties, and for an ability and will to comply
with the covenant of grace, from such principles as he
has, he does not lay hold of God's covenant, nor properly
enter into any covenant with God. For we have no op
portunity to covenant with God in any other way, toan
that which he has revealed ; he becomes a covenant-party
in no other covenant. It is true, every natural man that
lives under the gospel, is obliged to comply with the terms
of the covenant of grace ; and if he promises to do it, his
promise may increase his obligation, though he flattered
God with his mouth, and lied to him with his tongue, as toe
children of Israel did in promising. But it will not
thence follow, toat they ought knowingly to make a lying'
promise, or that ministers and churches should countenance
them in so doing.
Indeed there is no natural man but what deceives him
self, if he thinks he is truly willing to perform external
obedience to God, universally and perseveringly through
the various trials of life. An'd therefore in promising it,
he is either very deceitful, or is like the foolish deceived
man that undertook to build when he had not wherewith
to finish. And if it be known by the church, before whom
he promises to build and- finish, that at the same time he
does not pretend to have a heart to finish, his promise is
worthy of no credit or regard from them, and can make
nothing visible to them but his presumption.
A great confirmation of what has been said under this
head of covenanting, is Psal. 1. 16. " But unto toe wicked
God saith, What hast thou to do, to declare my statutes,
or that thou shouldest take my covenant in thy mouth ? "
This term, toe wicked, in the more general use of it in
Scripture, is applied in that extent as to include all un
godly or graceless persons, all toat are under the reigning
power of sin, and are the objects of God's anger, or ex
posed to his eternal vengeance ; as might easily be made
to appear by a particular enumeration of texts all over the
Bible. All such are in Scripture called, workers of ini
quity, the children of the wicked one, Matt. xiii. 38. All
such are said to be of the devil, 1 John iii. 8. And to be
the children of the devil, verse 10. TAe righteous and the
wicked are, in a multitude of places in Scripture, evidently
opposed one to the other, and distinguished as saints and
sinners, holy and unholy, those toat fear God and those
that fear him not, those that love him and those toat hate
him! All mankind are in Scripture divided by these dis
tinctions, and the Bible knows of no neuters or third sort.
Indeed those who are really wicked, may be visibly
righteous, righteous in profession and outward appearance.
But a sort of men who have no saving grace, and yet are
not really wicked, the Scripture is entirely ignorant of. It
is reasonable to suppose, that by wicked men, in this psalm,
is meant all that hate instruction, and reject Gods word,
(Psal. 1. 17.) and not merely such as are guilty of particu
lar crimes mentioned, verse 17 — 20. stealing, adultery,
fraud, and backbiting. Though only some particular ways
of wickedness are mentioned, yet we are not to understand
that all others are excluded ; yea the words, in the con
clusion of the paragraph, are expressly applied to all that
forget God in such a manner as to expose themselves to
be torn in pieces by God's wrath in hell, verse 22. "Now
consider this, ye that forget God, lest I tear you in pieces,
and there be none to deliver." We can no more justly
argue, that because some gross sins are here specified, that
no sinners are meant but such as live in those or other
gross sins, than we can argue from Rev. xxii. 14, 15.
that none shall be shut out of heaven but those who have
lived in the gross sins there mentioned ; " Blessed are they
that do his commandments, that they may have right to
the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into
the city : for without are dogs, and sorcerers, and mur
derers, and idolaters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a
lie." Notoing is more common in Scripture, than — in the
descriptions it gives both of the godly and ungodly, to-

Sect. III.

PROFESSION SHOULD BE OF REAL PIETY.

447

gether with their general character — to insert some parti
cular excellent practices of the one to which grace tends,
and some certain gross sins of the other for which there is
a foundation in the reigning corruption of their hearts. So,
lying is mentioned as part of the cbaracter of all natural
men, Psal. lviii. 3, 4. (there called wicked men, as in
Psal. 1.) "The wicked are estranged from the womb;
they go astray as soon as toey be born, speaking lies :
their poison is like the poison of a serpent," &c. So it
is said of the wicked, Psal. x. 2, 3, 4, 7. "His mouth is
full of cursing and bitterness." This the apostle, Rom. iii.
cites as a description of all natural men. So it is said of
the wicked, Psal. cxl. 3. "They have sharpened their
tongues as a serpent ; adders' poison is under their lips ;"
which the same apostle, in the same place, also cites as
what is said of all natural men. The very same gross sins
which are here mentioned in the fiftieth psalm, are from
time to time inserted in Solomon's descriptions of the
wicked man, as opposed to the righteous, in the book of
Proverbs. Particularly, the sins mentioned in the 1 9th
verse of that psalm, "Thou givest thy mouto to evil, and
thy tongue frameth deceit;" are thus mentioned, as belong
ing to the character ofthe wicked man, Prov. xii. 5, 6. " The
thoughts of the righteous are right ; but the counsels of the
wicked are deceit. The words of the wicked are to lie in
wait for blood ; but toe mouth of the upright shall deliver
them." Nevertheless it is plain, that the wise man in this
book, in his distinction of the righteous and the wicked,
means the same as godly and ungodly. Only reading the
two foregoing chapters will be enough to satisfy any of
this. Observe chap. x. 3, 7, 16, 20, 21, 24, 28—32. and
xi. 3, 5, 9, 11, 18—23, 30, 31. besides innumerable other
like texts all over the book. In chap. i. 16. it is said of
sinners, " Their feet run to evil, and make haste to shed
blood." This the apostle, in Rom. iii. 15. cites as belong
ing to the description of all natural men. So in the de
scription of the wicked, Prov. iv. 14 — 19. it is said that
"they sleep not unless they have done mischief; that they
drink the wine of violence," &c. and yet by the wicked
there is meant the same with the graceless man ; as ap
pears by the antithesis there made between him and the
just, or righteous, " whose path is as the shining light, that
shineth more and more to the perfect day."
As a further evidence that by the wicked in Psal. 1. 16.
is meant the same as the ungodly or graceless, it is to be
observed, here is a pretty manifest antithesis, or opposition
between the wicked, and toe saints, that shall be gathered
to Christ at toe day of judgment, ver. 5. There God
speaking of his coming to judgment, says, " Gather my
saints together, those that have made a covenant with
me by sacrifice :" and then, after showing the insufficiency
of toe sacrifices of beasts, implying that it is a greater
sacrifice by which these saints make a covenant with
him, it is added, " But to the wicked " [that are not in
the number of my saints] " God doth say, What hast
thou to do, to take my covenant into thy mouth ?" Ap
proving of the covenanting of the former, but disapproving
the covenanting of the latter. As to the gathering of God's
saints, there mentioned, if we consider the foregoing and
the following verses, it is evidently the same with the
fathering of his elect, when Christ comes in the clouds of
eaven, Matt. xxiv. 30, 31. and wito toe gathering of the
righteous, as his wheat into his bam, at the day of judg
ment, Matt. xiii. And therefore there is as much reason
to suppose, that by the wicked, which are opposed to
them, is meant all graceless persons, as there is to under
stand the doers of iniquity, Matt. xiii. as opposed to the
righteous, which' shall then " shine forth as the sun in the
kingdom of their Father," ver. 43. — And there is one thing
more which still further confirms me in my construction
of Psal. 1. 16. which is, That the plain reason here given
against wicked men taking God's covenant into their
mouths, holds good with respect to all graceless men, viz.
Because they 'do not comply with, but reject, the very
covenant, which they with their mouths profess to own
and consent to. Ver. 17. " Seeing thou hatest instruction,
and castest my words behind thee :" as much as to say,
" Thou rejectest and hast a reigning enmity against my
statutes, with which thou declarest and professest a com
pliance." And this is the spirit and practice of all who

live in the sin of unbelief and rejection of Christ ; they
live in a way that is altogether inconsistent with the
covenant of grace ; for against toe sum and substance of
the condition and engagement of that covenant every
natural man is under the reigning power of enmity, and
lives in contradiction to it. Therefore, I think, it follows,
that theywho know it is thus wito them, have nothing to do
to take God's covenant into their mouths.

SECT. IV.
The nature of things seems to afford no good reason why the
people of Christ should not openly profess a proper respect
to him in their hearts, as well as a true notion of him in
their heads, or a right opinion of him in their judgments,
and this is confirmed by scripture testimony.
I can conceive of notoing reasonably to be supposed as
the design or end of a public profession of religion, that
does not as much require a profession of honour, esteem,
and friendship of heart towards Christ, as an orthodox
opinion about him ; or why the former should not be as
much expected and required in order to be admitted into
the company of his friends and followers, as toe latter. It
cannot be because the former in itself is not as important
as the latter; seeing the very essence of religion itself
consists in the former, and without it the latter is wholly
vain, and makes us never the better ; neither happier in
ourselves, nor more acceptable to God. — One end of a
public profession of religion is giving public honour to
God. But surely the profession of inward esteem and a
supreme respect of heart towards God more directly tends
to it, than the declaring of right speculative notions of
him. We look upon it that our friends do the more espe
cially and directly put honour upon us, when upon proper
occasions they stand ready not only to own the truth of
such and such facts concerning us, but also to testify their
high esteem and cordial and entire regard to us. When
persons only manifest their doctrinal knowledge of religion,
and express the assent of their judgments, but at the same
time make no pretence but that they are wholly destitute
of all true love to God, and are under the dominion of
enmity against him, their profession is, in some respects,
very greatly to God's dishonour : for they leave reason for
the public greatly to suspect that they hold the truth in
unrighteousness, and that they are some of those who have
both seen and hated Christ and his Father, John xv. 24.
Who of all persons have the greatest sin, and are most to
God's dishonour.
I am at a loss, how that visibility of saintship, which the
honoured author of The Appeal to the Learned, supposes
to be all toat is required in order to admission to the
Lord's supper, can be much to God's honour, viz. Such a
visibility as leaves reason to believe, that the greater part
of those who have it, are enemies to God in their hearts,
and inwardly the servants of sin. Such a visibility of
religion as this, seems rather to increase a visibility of
wickedness in the world, and so of God's dishonour, than
any thing else ; i. e. it makes more wickedness visible to
the eye of a human judgment, and gives men reason to
think, there is more wickedness in the world than other
wise would be visible to them. Because we have reason
to think, that those who live in a rejection of Christ, under
the light of the gospel, and the knowledge and common
belief of its doctrine, have vastly greater sin and guilt than
other men. And that venerable divine himself did abun
dantly teach this.
Christ came into tbe world to engage in a war with God's
enemies, sin and Satan ; and a great war there is main
tained between them ; and the contest is, who shall bave
the possession of our hearts. Now it is reasonable,
under these circumstances, that we should declare on
whose side we are, whether on Christ's side, or on the side
of his enemies. If we would be admitted among Christ's
friends and followers, it is reasonable, that we should
profess we are on the Lord's side, aud that we yield our
hearts to him, and not to his rivals. And this seems
plainly to be the design and nature of a public profession
of Christ. If this profession is not made, no profession is

448

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

made toat is worth regarding, in such a case as this, and
to any such purpose as being admitted among his visible
friends. There is no being on Christ's side, in this case,
but with an undivided heart preferring him to all bis rivals,
and renouncing them all for his sake. The case admits of
no neutrality, or lukewarmness, or a middle sort of persons
with a moral sincerity, or such a common faith as is con
sistent with loving sin and the world better than Christ.
He that is not with me (says Christ) is against me. And
therefore none profess to be on Christ's side, but they who
profess to renounce his rivals. For those who would be
called Christians, to profess no higher regard to Christ
than what will admit of a superior regard to the world, is
more absurd than if a woman pretending to marry a man,
and take him for her husband, should profess to take him
in some sort, but yet not pretend to take him in such a
manner as is inconsistent with her allowing other men a
fuller possession of her, and greater intimacy with her,
than she allows him. The nature of the case, as it stands
between us and Jesus Christ, is such, that an open solemn
profession of being entirely for him, and giving him the
possession of our hearts, renouncing all competitors, is
more requisite in this, than a like profession in any other
case. The profession of an intermediate sort of state of
our mind, is very disagreeable to the nature of Christ's
work and kingdom in the world, and all that belongs to
the designs and ends of his administrations ; and for
ministers and churches openly to establish such a profes
sion of Christ as part of his public service, which does not
imply more toan lukewarmness, is, I fear, to make a mere
sham of a solemn public profession of Christianity, and
seems to be wholly without warrant from the word of
God, and greatly to his dishonour.
It cannot be justly pretended, as a reason why the
opinion concerning doctrines should be professed, and not
^friendship or respect of heart, that toe former is more easily
discerned and known by us than the latter. For though it
be true, that men may be at a loss concerning the latter,
yet it is as true they may be so concerning the former
too. They mav be at a loss in many cases concerning the
fulness of the determination of their own inclination and
choice ; and so they may concerning the fulness of the
determination of their judgment. I know of nothing in
human nature that hinders the acts of men's wills being
properly subject to their own consciousness, any more
than the acts of their judgment ; nor of any reason to sup
pose that men may not discern their own consent, as well
as their assent. The Scripture plainly supposes gracious
dispositions and acts to be things properly under the eye
of conscience. 2 Cor. xiii. 5. " Know ye not your own-
selves?" John xxi. 15. "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest
thou me ?" and many other places. Nor is the nature of
godliness less made known, that the true doctrines of re
ligion. Piety of heart, in the more essential things be
longing to it, is as clearly revealed, as the doctrines con
cerning the nature of God, the person of the Messiah, and
the method of his redemption.
We find in Scripture, that all those of God's professing
people or visible saints who are not truly pious, are repre
sented as counterfeits, as having guile, disguise, and a false
appearance, as making false pretences, and as being deceit
ful and hypocrites. — Thus Christ says of Natoanael, John
i. 47. " Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile ;"
that is, a truly gracious person ; implying, that those of
God's professing people, who are not gracious, are guileful,
and deceitful in their profession. So sinners in Zion, or in
God's visible church, are called hypocrites. Isa. xxxiii.
14. " The sinners in Zion are afraid, fearfulness hath sur
prised the hypocrites." Isa. xi. 17. " Every one is an
hypocrile and an evil-doer." So they are called lying chil
dren, Isa. xxx. 9. and chap. lix. 13. and are represented as
lying, in pretending to be of the temple or church of God.
Jer. vii. 2, 4. " Hear toe word of the Lord, all ye of
Judah, that enter in at these gates to worship the Lord. —
Trust ye not in lying words, saying, The temple of the
Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are
these." These are spoken of as falsely calling themselves
of the holy city, Isa. xlviii. 1, 2. They are called silver-
* This distinction is too vague. A more satisfactory reason is. that the
very nature of moral government requires this mode of treatment. See

dross, and reprobate or refuse silver, (Ezek. xxii. 18. Jer.
vi. 30.) which glisters arid shows like true silver, but has
not its inward worth. So they are compared to adulterated
wine, Isa. i. 22. and to trees full of leaves, bidding fair for
fruitfulness, Matt. xxi. 19. Clouds toat look as if they
were full of rain, yet bring nothing but wind, Jude 12.
Wells without water, that do but cheat the thirsty travel
ler, 2 Pet. ii. 13. A deceitful bow, that appears good, but
fails toe archer, Psal. lxxviii. 57. Hos. vii. 16.— Mr. Stod
dard, in his Appeal to the Learned, from time to time, sup
poses all visible saints, who are not truly pious, to be
hypocrites, as in page 15, 17, 18.
Now what ground or reason can there be thus to repre
sent those to be visible saints, or members of God's visible
church, who are not truly pious, if the profession of such
does not imply any pretence to true piety ; and when they
never made a pretence to any thing more than common
grace, or moral sincerity, which many of them truly have,
and therefore are not at all hypocritical or deceitful m their
pretences, and are as much' without guile, in what they
make a profession of, as Natoanael was ? The psalmist
speaking of sincere piety, calls it truth in the inward parts.
Psal. li. 6. " Bebold, thou desirest truth in the inward
parts." It is called truth with reference to some declara
tion or profession made by God's visible people ; but on
the hypothesis which I oppose, common grace is as properly
truth in the inward parts, in this respect, as saving grace.
God says concerning Israel, Deut. xxxii. 5. " Their spot
is not the spot of his children." God here speaks of him
self, as it were, disappointed ; the words having reference
to some profession they had made. For why should the
remark be made, after this manner, that spots appeared
upon them, and showed marks that they were not his chil
dren, if they never pretended to be his children, and never
were accepted under any such notion to any of the privi
leges of his people ?
God is pleased to represent himself in his word as if he
trusted the profession of his visible people, and as disap
pointed when they did not approve themselves as his faith
ful, stedfast, and thorough friends. Isa. lxiii. 8, 9, 10.
" For he said, Surely they are my people, children toat
will not lie. So he was their Saviour : in all their affliction
he was afflicted. But toey rebelled and vexed his Holy
Spirit ; therefore he was turned to be their enemy." The
same is represented in many other places. I suppose that
God speaks after this manner, because, in his present ex
ternal dealings with his visible people, he does not act in
the capacity of toe Searcher of hearts, but accommodates
himself to their nature, and the present state and circum
stances of his church, and speaks to them and treats them
after the manner of men, and deals with them in their own
way.* But supposing the case to be even thus, toere
would be no ground for such representations, if there were
no profession of true godliness. When God is represented
as trusting that men will be his faithful friends, we must
understand that he trusts to their pretences. But bow
improperly would the matter be so represented, if there
were no pretences to trust to, no pretences of any real
thorough friendship ! However toere may be a profession
of some common affection that is morally sincere, yet there
is no pretence of loving him more than, yea not so much
as, his enemies.— What reason to trust that they will be
faithful to God as their master, when the religion toey pro
fess amounts to no more than serving two masters ? What
reason to trust that they will be stable in tbeir ways, when
they do not pretend to be of a single heart, and all know
that the double-minded persons used to be unstable in all
their ways ? Those who only profess moral sincerity or
common grace, do not pretend to love God above the
world. And such grace is what God and man know is
liable to pass away as the early dew, and the morning cloud.
—If what men profess amounts to nothing beyond luke
warmness, it is not to be expected, that they will he faith
ful to the death. If men do not pretend to have any oil in
their vessels, what cause can there be to trust that their
lamps will not go out ? If they do not pretend to have anv
root in them, what cause is toere for any disappointment
when they wither away.
" An Essay on Equity and Sovereignty," throughout— W.

Sect. V.

' CHRIST'S REPRESENTATIONS REQUIRE IT.

449

When God, in the forementioned place, Isa. lxiii. repre
sents himself as trusting Israel's profession, and saying,
" Surely they are my people, children that will not lie ;" it
cannot be understood, as if he trusted that they were his
people in that sense, in which the ten tribes were called
God's people after they had given up themselves to idola
try for two or three hundred years together without once
repenting. But, surely they are. my sincere saints and
children, as they profess to be, Israelites indeed, without
guile ; toey would not do so evil a thing as to make a
lying profession. This seems to be the plain import of toe
words. Tt therefore shows toat the profession they made
was of real vital godliness.
The eight first verses of the fifty-sixth chapter of Isaiah,
I think, afford good evidence, that such qualifications are
requisite in order to toe privileges of a visible church state,
as I have insisted on.— In the four preceding chapters we
have a propbecy of gospel-times, the blessed state of
things which the Messiah should introduce. The prophecy
of the same times is continued in the former part of this
cbapter. Here we have a prophecy of toe abolishing of
the ceremonial law, which was a wall of separation, that
kept two sorts of persons, (viz. eunuchs' and Gentiles,) out
from the ordinances of the church or congregation of the
Lord, (for the words congregation and church are the same,)
the place of whose meeting was in God's house within
Gods walls, ver. 5. and on God's holy mountain, ver. 7.
That in the ceremonial law which especially kept out the
Gentiles, was the law of circumcision ; and toe law that
the eunuch shall not enter into the congregation or church
of fee Lord, we have in Deut. xxiii. 1. Now here it is
foretold, that in the days when " God's salvation shall be
come, and his righteousness revealed," by the coming of
the Messiah, this wall of separation should be broken
down, this ceremonial law removed out of toe way ; (but
still taking care to note, that the law of toe Sabbath shall
be continued, as not being one of those ceremonial ob
servances which shall be abolished ;) and then it is de
clared, what is the great qualification which should be
looked at in those blessed days, when these external cere
monial qualifications of circumcision and soundness of
body should no more be insisted on, viz. piety of heart
and practice, " joining themselves to the Lord, loving the
name of the Lord, to be his servants, choosing the things
that please him," &c. Ver. 3, &c. " Neither let toe son
of toe stranger that hath joined himself to the Lord, speak,
saying, The Lord hath utterly separated me from his peo
ple ; neither let the eunuch say, Behold, I am a dry tree ;
for thus saith the Lord unto the eunuchs that keep my
Sabbaths, and choose the things that please me, and take
hold of my covenant, even unto them will I give in my
house, and within my walls, a place, and a name better
toan of sons and of daughters ; I will give unto them an
everlasting name, that shall not be cut off. ¦ Also the sons
of the stranger that join themselves to the Lord, to serve
him, and to love the name of the Lord, to be his servants,
every one that keepeth the Sabbath from polluting it, and
taketh hold of my covenant : even them will I bring to my
holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of
prayer ; their burnt-offerings and their sacrifices shall be
accepted upon mine altar : for mine house shall be called
an house of prayer for all people. The Lord God which
gathered the outcasts of Israel, saith, Yet will I gather
others to him besides those that are gathered unto him."

SECT. V.
The representations which Christ makes of his visible
church, from time to time, in his discourses and parables,
make the thing manifest which 1 have laid down.
This is required by the representation which Christ
makes in the latter end of Matthew vii. of the final issue
of things with respect to the different sorts of members of
his visible church. Those that only say, Lord, Lord, and
those who do the will of his Father which is in heaven ;
those who build their house upon a rock, and those who
build upon the sand. They are all (of both kinds) evident
ly such as have pretended to a high honour and regard
vol. I. 2 G

to Christ, have claimed an interest in him, and accordingly
hoped to be finally acknowledged and received as his.
Those visible Christians who are not true Christians ory,
Lord, Lord;- that is, are forward to profess respect and
claim relation to him ; and will be greatlv disappointed
hereafter in not being owned by him. They shall then
come and cry, Lord, Lord. This compellation, Lord, is
commonly given to Jesus Christ in the New Testament,
as signifying the special relation which Christ stood in to
his disciples, rather than his universal dominion. They
shall then come and earnestly claim relation, as it is re
presented of Israel of old, in the day of their distress, and
God's awful judgments upon them, Hos. viii. 2. " Israel
shall cry unto me, My God, we know thee." To know
does not here intend speculative knowledge, but knowing
as one knows his own, with a peculiar respect and interest.
These false disciples shall not only claim an interest in
Christ, but shall plead and bring arguments to confirm
their claim ; " Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy
name, and in thy name have cast out devils, and in thy
name have done many wonderful works '!" It is evidently
the language of those that are dreadfully disappointed.
" Then (says Christ) I will profess unto them, I never
knew you ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity :" q. d.
" Though they profess a relation to me, I will profess
none to them ; though they plead that they know me, and
have an interest in me, I will declare to them that I never
owned them as any of mine ; and will bid them depart
from me as those that I will never own, nor have any thing
to do with in such a relation as they claim." Thus all the
hopes they had lived in, of being hereafter received and
owned by Christ as in the number of his friends and fa
vourites, are dashed in pieces. — This is further illustrated
by what follows, in the comparison of the wise man who
built his house on a rock ; representing those professed
disciples who build their hope of an interest in him on a
sure foundation, whose house shall stand in the trying day :
and the foolish man who built his house on the sand ;
representing those professed disciples or hearers of his
word, who build their opinion and hope of an interest in
him on a false foundation, whose house in the great time
of trial shall have a dreadful fall, their vain hope shall
issue In dismal disappointment and confusion.
On the whole, it is manifest that all visible Christians
or saints, all Christ's professing disciples or hearers that
profess him to be their Lord, according to the scripture
notion of professing Christ, are such as profess a " saving
interest in him and relation to him, and live in the hope of
being hereafter owned as those that are so interested and
related." — By those that hear Christ's sayings, in this place,
are not meant merely auditors of the word preached ; for
there are many such who make no pretence to an interest
in Christ, and have no such hope or opinion built on any
foundation at all ; but those who profess to hearken, be
lieve, and yield submission to the word of Christ. This
is confirmed by the manner in which the matter is ex
pressed in Luke vi. " Whosoever cometh to me, and
heareth my sayings, and doth them, I will show you to
whom he is like :" i. e. Whosoever visibly comes to me,
and is one of my professed disciples, &c.
This matter is confirmed by that parallel representation
that Christ gives us in Luke xiii. 25 — 29. of his final dis
posal of the two different sorts of persons that are in the
kingdom or church of God ; viz. those who shall be allow
ed in his church or kingdom when it comes to its state of
glory, and toose who though they have visibly been in it,
shall be thrust out of it. It is represented of the latter,
that they shall then come and claim relation and interest,
and cry, " Lord, Lord, open to us;" and " Christ shall
answer, and say, I know you not whence you are." As
much as to say, " Why do you claim relation and ac
quaintance with me ? You are strangers to me, I do not
own you." " Then (it is said) they shall begin to say,
We have eaten and drank in thy presence, and thou hast
taught in our streets." As much as to say, " This is a
strange thing, that thou dost not own us ! We are exceed
ingly surprised, that thou shouldst account us as strangers
that' have no part in thee, when we have eaten and drank
in thy presence," &c. And when he shall finally insist
upon it, that he does not own them, and will have nothing

450

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II

to do with them as his, " then there shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth ;" then they shall be filled with dismal
disappointment, confusion, and despair, when they shall
see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the
kingdom of God, with whom they expected to dwell for
ever there, and they themselves thrust out. By this it is
evident, that those visible members of the kingdom of God,
toat hereafter shall be cast out of it, are such as look upon
toemselves now interested in Christ and the eternal bless
ings of his kingdom, and make that profession.
The same is manifest by fee parable of the ten virgins,
Matt. xxv. In toe first verse it is said, " The kingdom of
heaven (i. e. the church of Christ) is likened unto ten vir
gins." The two sorts of virgins evidently represent the
two sorts of members of the visible church of Christ ; the
wise, those who are true Christians ; and the foolish, those
who are apparent but not true Christians. The foolish
virgins were to all appearance the children of the bride-
chamber; such as had accepted of the invitation to the
wedding, which represents the invitations of the gospel,
wherein the bridegroom and bride say, Come. They herein
had testified the same respect to the bridegroom arid bride
that the wise had. The parable naturally leads us to sup
pose, that they were to appearance every way of the same
society with the wise, pretended to be the same sort of
persons, in like manner interested in the bridegroom, and
that they were received by the wise under such a notion.
They made a profession of the very same kind of honour
and regard to the bridegroom, in going forth to meet him
with their lamps, as his friends to show him respect, and
had the same hopes of enjoying the privileges and enter
tainments of the wedding : there was a difference with
respect to oil in their vessels, but there was no difference
with respect to their lamps. One thing intended by their
lamps, as I suppose is agreed by all, is their profession.
This is the same in both ; and in both it is a profession of
grace, as a lamp (from its known end and use) is a mani
festation or show of oil. Another thing signified by the
blaze of their lamps seems to be the light of hope. Their
lamps signify in general the appearance of grace or godli
ness, including both the appearance of it to the view or
judgment of others, and also to their own view, and the
judgment they entertain of themselves. Their lamps
shone, not only in the eyes of others, but also in their own
eyes. This is confirmed because on hearing the midnight
cry, they find their lamps are gone out ; which seems most
naturally to represent, toat however hypocrites may main
tain their hopes while they live, and while their judge is
at a distance, yet when they come to be alarmed by the
sound of the last trumpet, their hopes will immediately
expire and vanish away, and very often fail them in the
sensible approaches of death. Where is the hope of the
hypocrite, when God takes away his soul ? But till the
midnight cry the foolish virgins seem to entertain the
same hopes wito the wise. When they first went forth
with the wise virgins, their lamps shone in their own eyes,
and in toe eyes of others, in like manner with the lamps
of the wise virgins. — So that by this parable it also ap
pears, that all visible members of the christian church, or
kingdom of heaven, are those that profess to be gracious
persons, as looking on themselves, and at least pretending,
to be such.
And that true piety is what persons ought to look at in
themselves as the qualification that is proper in coming
into the visible church of Christ, and taking the privileges
of its members, I think, is evident also from the parable
of the marriage, which the king made for his son, Matt.
xxii. particularly the 11th and 12th verses, " And when
the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man
which had not on a wedding-garment : and he saith unto
him, Friend, how earnest thou in hither, not baving on a
wedding-garment? and he was speechless." — Mr. Stod
dard says, (Appeal, page 4, 5.) " Here is a representation
of the day of judgment ; and such persons as come for
salvation without a wedding-garment shall be rejected in
that day. So that here oeing nothing said about the
Lord's supper, all arguing from this scripture falls to the
ground." Upon which I take leave to observe, that the
king's coming in to see the guests, means Christ's visiting
his professing church at the day of judgment, I make no

doubt; but, that the guests coming into the king's house
means persons coming for salvation at the day of judg
ment, I am not convinced. If it may properly be repre
sented, that any reprobates will come for salvation at the
day of judgment, they will not do so before the king ap
pears ; but Christ will appear first, and then they will
come and cry to him for salvation. — Whereas, in this pa
rable, the guests are represented as gathered together in
the king's house before the king appears, and the king as
coming in and finding them there ; where they had enter
ed while the day of grace lasted, while the door was kept
open, and invitations given forth ; and not like those who
come for salvation at the day of judgment, Luke xiii. 25.
who come "after the door is shut, and stand without
knocking at the door." I think it is apparent beyond all
contradiction, that by the guests coming into the king's
house at the invitation of the servants, is intended Jews
and Gentiles coming into the christian church, at the
preaching of Christ's apostles and others, making pro
fession of godliness, and expecting to partake of the
eternal marriage supper. I showed before, that what is
called the house of God in the New Testament, is his
church. In this parable, the king first sends forth his
servants to call them that were bidden, and they would not
come ; and they having repeatedly rejected the invitation,
and evil-entreated the servants, the king sent forth his
armies and burnt up their city ; representing the Jews
being first invited, and rejecting the invitations of the gos
pel, and persecuting Christ's ministers, and so provoking
God to give up Jerusalem and the nation to destruction.
Then the king sends forth his servants into the highways,
to call in all sorts ; upon which many flocked into the
king's house; hereby most plainly representing the preach
ing the gospel to the Gentiles, and their flocking into the
christian church. This gathering of the Gentiles into the
king's house, is before the day of judgment, and the
man without toe wedding-garment among them. It fitly
represents the resorting that should be to the christian
church, during the day of grace, through all ages ; but by
no means signifies men's coming for salvation after the
day of grace is at an end, at Christ's appearing in the
clouds of heaven. Let this parable be compared with
that parallel place, Luke xiv. 16 — 24. The company ga
thered to the marriage in this parable, plainly represents
the same thing with the company of virgins gathered to
the marriage in the other parable, Matt. xxv. viz. the com
pany of visible saints, or the company belonging to the
visible kingdom of heaven ; and therefore both parables
are introduced alike with these words, " The kingdom of
heaven is like unto," &c. As to toe man's being cast out
of the king's house when the king comes in to see his
guests, it is agreeable to other representations made of false
Christians being thrust out of God's kingdom at the day
of judgment ; the " servant's not abiding in tbe house for
ever, though the son abideth ever ;" God's " taking away
their part out of the holy city, and blotting their names out
of the book of life," &c.
Mr. Stoddard says, " This person that had not a wed
ding-garment, was a reprobate; but every one that partakes
of the Lord's supper without grace is not a reprobate." I
answer, all that will be found in the king's house without
grace when the king comes in to see the guests, are doubtless
reprobates. If it be questioned, whether by the wedding-garment be
meant true piety, or whether hereby is not intended moral
sincerity, let the Scripture interpret itself; which else
where tells us plainly what the wedding-garment is at the
marriage of the Son of God : Rev. xix. 7, 8. " The mar
riage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself
ready. And to her was granted that she should be array
ed in fine linen, clean and white ; for the fine linen is the
righteousness of saints." None, I suppose, will say, this
righteousness that is so pure, is the common grace of luke
warm professors, and those that go about to serve God
and mammon. The same wedding-garment we have an
account of in Psal. xiv. 1 3, 14. " The king's daughter is
all glorious within, her clothing is of wrought gold : she
shall be brought unto the king in raiment of needle-work."
But we need go no where else but to the parable itself;
that alone determines the matter. The wedding-garment

Sect. VI.

PRIMITIVE ADMISSIONS PROVE IT.

451

spoken of as that without which professors will be ex
cluded from among God's people at the day of judgment,
is not moral sincerity, or common grace, but special saving
grace. If common grace were the wedding-garment in
tended, not only would fee king cast out those whom he
found without a wedding-garment, but also many with a
wedding-garment : for all such as shall be found then
with no better garment than moral sincerity, will be bound
hand and foot, and cast into outer darkness ; such a wed
ding-garment as this will not save them. So that true
piety, unfeigned faith, or the righteousness of Christ which
is upon every one that believeth, is doubtless the wed
ding-garment intended. But if a person has good and
proper ground to proceed on in coming into the king's
house, that knows he is without this wedding-garment, why
should the king upbraid him, saying, " How earnest thou
in hither, not having a wedding-garment?" And why
should he.be speechless, when asked such a question?
Would he not have had a good answer to make ? viz.
"Thou thyself hast given me leave to come in hither,
without a wedding-garment." Or this, " Thy own word is
my warrant ; which invited such as had only common
grace, or moral sincerity, to come in."

SECT. VI.
What took place, in fact, in the manner and circumstances
of the admission of members into the primitive christian
church, and the profession they made in order to their ad
mission, as recorded in the Acts if the Apostles, will fur
ther confirm the point.
We have an account, concerning these, of toeir being
first awakened by the preaching of the apostles and other
ministers, and earnestly inquiring what they should do to
be saved, and of their being directed to repent and believe
on the Lord Jesus, as the way to have their sins blotted
out, and to be saved ; and then, upon their professing that
they did believe, of their being baptized and admitted
into the christian church. Now can any reasonably ima
gine, that these primitive converts, when they made that
profession in order to their admission, had any such dis
tinction in view as that which some now make, of two
sorts of real Christianity, two sorts of sincere faith and re
pentance, one with a moral and another with a gracious
sincerity ? Or that the apostles, who disciplined them and
baptized them, had instructed them in any such distinc
tion ? The history informs us of their teaching them but
one faith and repentance ; Believing in Christ that they
might be saved, and repentance for the remission of sins ;
and it would be unreasonable to suppose, that a thoughtof
any lower or other kind entered into the heads of these con
verts, when immediately upon their receiving such instruc
tions they professed faith and repentance ; or that those
who admitted them understood them as meaning any other
but what they professed.
Let us particularly consider what we are informed con
ceming those multitudes, whose admission we have an
account of in Acts ii. We are told concerning the three
thousand first converts, that they were greatly awakened
by the preaching of the apostles, pricked in their hearts,
made sensible of their guilt and misery ; " and said to
Peter, and the rest of the apostles, Men and brethren,
what shall we do ?" i. e. What shall we do to be saved,
and that our sins may be remitted ? Upon which they di
rected them what they should do, viz. " Repent, and be
baptized, in toe name of the Lord Jesus, for the remission
of sins." They are here directed into the way of salvation,
viz. faith and repentance, wito a proper profession of
these. — Then, we are told, that they which gladly received
the word were baptized; that is, They which appeared
gladly to receive the word, or manifested and professed a
cordial and cheerful compliance with the calls of the word,
with the directions which the apostles had given them.
The manifestation was doubtless by some profession, and
the profession was of that repentance for the remission of
sins, and that faith in Christ, which the apostles had di
rected them to, in answer to their inquiry, what they should
do to be saved? I can see no ground to suppose they
2 G 2

thought of any lower or other kind. And it is evident by
what follows, that these converts now looked upon it that
they had complied with these directions, and so were at
peace with God. Their business now is to rejoice and
praise God from day to day ; " They continued stedfastly
in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship — continuing daily
with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from
house to house, they did eat their meat with gladness and
singleness of heart, praising God." The account of them
now is not as of persons under awakenings, weary and
heavy-laden sinners, under an awful sense of guilt and
wrath, pricked in their hearts, as before ; but of persons
whose sorrow was turned into joy, looking on themselves
as now in a good estate. And in the last verse it is said,
" The Lord added to the church daily such as should
be saved;" in the'original it is tods . -fojuew, the saved;
oi -lafomerai was a common appellation given to all visible
Christians, or to all members ofthe visible christian church.
lt is as much as to sav, the converted, or the regenerate.
Being converted is in Scripture called being saved, because
it is so in effect ; they were " passed from death to life,"
John v. 24. Tit. i. 4. "According to his mercy he saved
us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing
of the Holy Ghost." 2 Tim. i. 9. "Who hath saved
us, and called us with an holy calling." Not that all who
were added to the visible church were indeed regenerated,
but they were so in profession and repute, and therefore
were so in name. 1 Cor. i, 18. " The preaching of the
cross is to them that perish, foolishness ; but unto us [i. e.
us Christians] which are saved [tok- .ufoMerau] it is the
power of God." So those that from time to time were
added to the primitive church, were all called oi .-fojievoi,
the saved. Before, while under awakenings, they used to
inquire of their teachers, what they should do to be saved ;
and the directions that used to be given them, were to re
pent and believe in Christ ; and before they were admitted
into the church, they professed that they did so ; and
thenceforward, having visibly complied with the terms pro
posed, they were called the saved; it being supposed,
that they now had obtained what they inquired after when
they asked what they should do to be saved. Accordingly
we find that Christ's ministers treated them no more as
miserable perishing sinners, but as true converts ; not set
ting before them their sin and misery to awaken them, and
to convince them of the necessity of a Saviour, exhorting
them to fly from the wrath to come, and seek conversion
to God ; but exhorting them to holdfast the profession of
their faith, to continue in the grace of God, and persevere
in holiness ; endeavouring by all means to confirm and
strengthen them in grace. Thus when a great number be
lieved and turned to the Lord at Antioch, Barnabas was
sent to them ; " who, when he came, and had seen the
grace of God, was glad, and exhorted them all, that wife
purpose of heart they should cleave to the Lord." Acts
xi. 23. See also Acts xiii. 43. and xiv. 22. and xv. 32, 41.
and xx. 32. And when the apostles heard of the conversion
of the Gentiles to the christian faith, visible by their pro
fession when they joined themselves to tbe christian church,
they supposed and believed that God had given them
saving repentance, and a heart-purifying faith. Acts xi.
18. " When they heard these things, they held their peace,
and glorified God, saying, Then hath God also granted
unto the Gentiles repentance unto life." Chap. xv.
9. " And put no difference between us and them, purifying
their hearts by faith."
If any should here object, that when such multitudes
were converted from Judaism and heathenism, and re
ceived into the christian church in so short a season, it was
impossible there should be time for each one to say so
much in his public profession, as to be any credible exhi
bition of true godliness to the church : I answer, This ob
jection will soon vanish, if we particularly consider how
the case was with those primitive converts, and how they
were dealt with by their teachers. It was apparently the
manner of the first preachers of the gospel, when their
hearers were awakened and brought in good earnest to in
quire what they should do to be saved, then particularly to
instruct them in the way of salvation, and explain to them
what qualifications must be in them, or what they must do
in order to their being saved, agreeable to Christ's direc-

452

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

tion, Mark xvi. 15, 16. This we find was the method they
took wito the three thousand, in the second chapter of Acts,
ver. 37 — 40. And it seems, they were particular and full
in it : they said much more to them than the words re
corded. It is said, ver. 40. " With many other words did
Peter testify and exhort." And this we find to be the
course Paul and Silas took with the jailor, cbap. xvi.
Who also gave more large and full instructions than are
rehearsed in the history. And when they had thus in
structed them, they doubtless saw to it, either by them
selves or some others who assisted them, that their instruc
tions were understood by them, before they proceeded to
baptize them. For I suppose, none with whom I have to
do in this controversy, will maintain, from the apostles' ex
ample, that we ought not to insist on a good degree of
doctrinal knowledge in the way and terms of salvation, as
requisite to the admission of members into the church.
And after they were satisfied that they well understood
these things, it took up no great time to make a profession
of them, or to declare that they did, or found in themselves,
those things they had been told of as necessary to their
salvation. After they had been well informed what saving
faith and repentance were, it took up no more time to pro
fess that faith and repentance, than any other. — In this
case not only the converts' words, but the words of the
preacher, which they consented to, and in effect made their
own, are to be taken into their profession. For persons
that are known to be of an honest character, and manifestly
qualified with good doctrinal knowledge of the nature of
true godliness, in the more essential things which belong
to it, solemnly to profess they have or do those things, is
to make as credible a profession of godliness as I insist
upon. And we may also well suppose, that more words
were uttered by the professors, and with other circum
stances to render them credible, than are recorded in that
very brief history, which we have of .the primitive church
in the Acts of the Apostles ; and also we may yet suppose
one thing further, viz. that in that extraordinary state of
things so particular a profession was not requisite in order
to tbe church's satisfaction, either of doctrines assented to,
or of the consent and disposition of the heart, as may be
expedient in a more ordinary state of things; for various
reasons that might be given, would it not too much
lengthen out this discourse.
One thing which makes it very evident, that the inspired
ministers of the primitive christian church looked upon
saving faith as the proper matter of the profession requisite
in order to admission into the church, is the story of Philip
and the eunuch, in Acts viii. For when the eunuch
desires to be baptized, Philip makes answer, ver. 37. " If
thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayst." Whicb
words certainly imply, that believing with all his heart was
requisite in order to his coming to this ordinance properly
and in a due manner. I cannot conceive what should
move Philip to utter these words, or what he should aim
at in them, if at the same time he supposed, toat the
eunuch had no need to look at any such qualification in
himself, or at all to inquire whether he had such a faith, in
c. der to determine whether he might present himself as the
subject of baptism-
it is said by some, that Philip intended nothing more,
by believing with all his heart, than that he believed toat
doctrine, that Jesus Christ was the Son of God, with a
moral sincerity of persuasion. But here again I desire,
that the Scripture may be allowed to be its own interpreter.
The Scripture very much abounds with such phrases as
this, with all the heart, or with the whole heart, in speaking
of religious matters. And the manifest intent of them is
to signify a gracious simplicity and godly sincerity. Thus,
"tii Sam. xii. 20. " Turn not aside from following the Lord,
but serve the Lord with all your heart." So ver. 24.
" Only fear the Lord, and serve him in truth, with all
your heart." 1 Kings viii. 23. " Who keepest covenant
and mercy with thy servants, that walk before thee with
all their heart." Chap. xiv. 8. " My servant David, who
kept my commandments, and who followed me with all
his heart." 2 Kings x. 31. " But Jehu took no heed to
walk in the law of the Lord God of Israel with all his
heart." 2 Chron. xxii. 9. " Jehoshaphat sought the Lord
with all his heart." Chap. xxxi. 20, 21. " Hezekiah

wrought that which was good and right and truth before
the Lord his God ; and in every work that he began in toe
service of the house of God, and in the law, and in the
commandments, to seek his God, he did it with all His
heart." Ps. ix. 1. " I will praise thee, O Lord, with my
whole heart." Ps. lxxxvi. 12. " I will praise thee, O Lord
my God, with all my heart, and will glorify thy name."
Ps. cxi. 1. " I will praise thee, O Lord, with my whole
heart, in the assembly of the upright." And cxix. 2.
" Blessed are toey that keep his testimonies, and that seek
him with the whole heart. Ver. 10. " With my whole
heart have I sought thee." Ver. 34. " Give me under
standing, and I shall keep thy law, yea, I shall observe it
with my whole heart." Ver. 69. " The proud have forged
a lie against me, but I will keep thy precepts with my
whole heart." Jer. xxiv. 7. " And I will give them an
heart to know me— for toey shall return unto me with
their whole heart." Joel ii. 12, 13. " Turn ye even unto me
with all your heart— and rend your heart, and not your gar
ments." And we have the like phrases in innumerable
other places. And I suppose that not so much as one
place can be produced, wherein there is the least evidence
or appearance of their being used to signify any thing but
a gracious sincerity. And indeed it must be a very im
proper use of language, to speak of those as performing
acts of religion with all their hearts, whose heart the Scrip
tures abundantly represent as under the reigning power of
sin and unbelief— and as those that do not give God their
hearts, but give them to other things — as toose who go
about to serine two masters, and who draw near to God with
their lips, but have at the same time their hearts far from
him, running more after other things ; and who have not a
single eye, nor single heart. The word believe, in the New
Testament, answers to toe word trust in the Old ; and
therefore the phrase used by Philip, of believing with all
the heart, is parallel to that in Prov. iii. " Trust in the
Lord with all thine heart." And believing wito toe heart
is a phrase used in the New Testament, to signify saving
faith.— Rom. x. 9, 10. " If thou shalt believe in thine
heart, that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt
be saved ; for with the heart man believeth unto righteous
ness." The same is signified by obeying the form of
doctrine from the heart, Rom. vi. 17, 18. " But God be
thanked, that ye were the servants of sin, but ye have
obeyed from fee heart that form of doctrine which was
delivered you ; being then made free from sin, ye became
the servants of righteousness." Here it is manifest, that
saving faith is intended by obeying the form of doctrine
from the heart. And the same is signified as if it had
been said, " ye have believed wito the heart " the form of
doctrine. But Philip uses a yet stronger expression, he
does not only say, if thou believest with the heart, or from
the heart, but with all thine heart. Besides, for any to
suppose, that those same persons which the Scriptures
represent in some places as under the power of an evil
heart of unbelief — as double-minded with regard to their
faith, (James i. 6, 7, 8.) who, though they believe for a
while, have their hearts like a rock, in which faith has no
root, (Luke viii.) — and yet that this same sort of persons
are in other scriptures spoken of as believing with all their
heart ; I say, for any to suppose this, would be to make
the voice of God's word not very harmonious and con
sonant to itself. — And one thing more I would observe on
this head, toere is good reason to suppose, that Philip,
while he sat in the chariot with the eunuch, and (as we
are told) preached unto him Jesus, had showed to him the
way of salvation — had opened to him the way of getting
an interest in Christ, or obtaining salvation by bim, viz.
believing in him, agreeable to Christ's own direction, Mark
xvi. 15, 16. and agreeable to what we find to be the
manner of the first preachers of the gospel. And there
fore, when after this discourse he puts it to the eunuch,
whether he believed with all his heart ; it is natural to sup
pose, that he meant whether he found his heart acquiescing
in the gospel-way of salvation, or whether he sincerely
exercised that belief in Christ which he had been incul
cating ; and it would be natural for the eunuch so to un
derstand him.
Here if it be objected, that the eunuch's answer and
the profession he hereupon made, (wherein he speaks

Sect. VIL

THE EPISTLES PROVE IT.

453

nothing of his heart, but barely says,) 1 believe that Jesus
Christ is the Son of God, shows that he understood no more
by the inquiry, than whether he gave his assent to that
doctrine : to this I answer ; we must take this confession
of the eunuch together with Philip's words, to which they
were a reply, and expound toe one by the other. Nor is
there any reason but to understand it in the same sense in
which we find the words of the like confession elsewhere
in the New Testament, and as the words of such a con
fession were wont to be used in those days ; as particularly
the words of Peter's confession, Matt. xvi. 16. " And
Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art Christ, the Son
of the living God." Which was a profession of saving
faith, as appears by what Christ says upon it. And we
read, 1 Cor. xii. 3. " No man can say, that Jesus is the
Lord, but by the Holy Ghost." Not but that a man
might make a profession in these words without the Holy
Ghost, but he could not do it heartily, or with all his
heart. So 1 John iv. 15. " Whosoever shall confess that
Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in
God." i. e. Whoever makes this christian confession (this
profession which all Christians were wont to make)
cordially, or with his whole heart, God dwells in him, &c.
But it was thus that the eunuch was put upon making this
confession.

SECT. VII.
77ie epistles of the apostles to the churches, prove what has
been asserted.
It is apparent by toe epistles of the apostles to toe
primitive christian churches, their manner of addressing and
treating toem throughout all those epistles, and what they
say to them and of them, that all toose churches were
constituted of members so qualified as has been represented,
having such a visibility of godliness as has been insisted
on. Those who were reputed to be real saints, were taken
into the church under a notion of their being truly pious
persons, made toat profession, and had this hope of them
selves ; and that natural and graceless men were not ad
mitted designedly, but unawares, and beside the aim of
the primitive churches and ministers ; and that such as re
mained in good standing, and free from an offensive be
haviour, continued to have the reputation and esteem of real
saints, with the apostles, and one with another.
There were numbers indeed in these churches, who after
their admission fell into an offensive behaviour ; of some
of whom the apostles in toeir epistles speak doubtfully ;
others that had behaved themselves very scandalously, they
speak of in language that seems to suppose them to be
wicked men. — The apostle Paul, in his epistles to the
Corinthians, oftentimes speaks of some among them that
had embraced heretical opinions, and had behaved them
selves in a very disorderly and scbismatical manner, whom
he represents as exposed to censure, and to whom he
threatens excommunication. On occasion of so many of
fences of this kind appearing among them that for a while
had been thought well of, he puts them all upon examining
themselves, whether they were indeed in the faith, and
whether Christ was truly in them, as they and others had
supposed, 2 Cor. xiii. — And the same apostle speaks of
great numbers among the Galatians, who had made a high
profession, and were such as he had thought well of when
they were first admitted into the church, but since ha*
given him cause to doubt of their state, by giving heed to
seducers, that denied the great gospel-doctrine of justifica
tion by faith alone : yet notwithstanding, the apostle speaks
of them in such language as shows surprise and disap
pointment, and implies that he had looked upon them as
true Christians, and hoped that his labours among them
had had a saving effect upon toem. Gal. i. 6. " 1 marvel
that ye are so soon removed from him that called you into
the grace of Christ, unto another gospel." Chap. iv. 11.
" I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you labour
in vain." And ver. 20. " I desire to be present with you
now, and change my voice ; for I stand in doubt of you."
As much as to say, " I have heretofore addressed you with
the voice of love and charity, as supposing you the dear

children of God ; but now I begin to think of speaking to
you in other language." In the same chapter, to show
them what little reason he had to expect that they would
come to this, he puts them in mind of the great profession
they had made, and the extraordinary appearances there
had formerly been in them of fervent piety. — Ver. 15.
" Where is the blessedness you spake of? For I bear you
record, that if it had been possible, you would have pluck
ed out your own eyes, and have given them unto me."
The apostle James, in his epistle, speaks of scandalous
persons among the twelve tribes that were scattered abroad;
some that were men of unbridled tongues ; some that seem
to have been a kind of antinomians in their principles,
and of a very bitter and violent spirit, that reproached,
condemned, and cursed their brethren, and raised wars and
fightings among professing Christians, and were also very
unclean in their practice, adulterers and adulteresses, chap.
iv. 4. And in the fifth chapter of his epistle, he seems to
speak to the unbelieving Jews, who persecuted the Chris
tians, ver. 6. — And the apostles also often speak of some
who had once been admitted into the church, crept in un
awares, but who apostatized from Christianity, and finally
proved notoriously wicked men.  But otherwise, and as
to such members of the visible church as continued in the
same good standing and visibility of Christianity, wherein
they were admitted, it is evident by the episties of the
apostles, they were all in the eye of a christian judgment
truly pious or gracious persons. And here I desire the
following things may be particularly observed.
The apostles continually, in their epistles, speak to them
and of them, as supposing and judging them to be gra
cious persons. Thus the apostle Paul, in his epistle to the
Romans, chap. i. 7. speaks of the members of toat church
as beloved of God. In chap. vi. 17, 18, &c. he " thanks
God, that they had obeyed from the heart that form of
doctrine which had been delivered them, — were made free
from sin, and become the servants of righteousness," &c.
The apostle in giving thanks to God for this, must not only
have a kind of negative charity for them, as not knowing
but that they were gracious persons, and so charitably
hoping (as we say) that it was so ; but he seems to have
formed a positive judgment that they were such. His
thanksgiving must at least be founded on rational proba
bility ; since it would be but a mocking of God, to give
him thanks for bestowing a mercy which, at the same time
he did not see reason positively to believe was bestowed.
In chap. vii. 4 — 6. the apostle speaks of them as those
that once were in the flesh, and were under the law, but now
delivered from the law, and dead to it. In chap. viii. 15,
and following verses, he tells them, they had received
the Spirit of adoption, and speaks of them as having the
witness of the Spirit that they were the children of God,
heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ. And the whole
of his discourse, to the end of the chapter, implies, that
he esteemed them truly gracious persons. In chap. ix.
23, 24. he speaks of the christian Romans, together with
all other Christians, both Jews and Geutiles, as vessels of
mercy. In chap. xiv. 6, 7, 8. speaking of fee difference
that then was among professing Christians, in point of re
gard to the ceremonial institutions of toe law, he speaks
of both parties as acting from a gracious principle, and as
those that lived to the Lord, and should die unto the
Lord ; " He that regardeth the day, regardeth it unto the
Lord, &c. For none of us liveth to himself, and no man
[i. e. none of us] dieth to himself. For whether we live, we
live unto the Lord, or whether we die, we die unto the
Lord : whether we live therefore or die, we are the Lord's."
In chap. xv. 14. he says, " I myself also am persuaded of
you, my brethren, that ye are full of goodness." His being
thus persuaded implies a positive judgment of charity.
And the same apostle in his first epistle to the Cor
inthians, directs it " to the church at Corinth, that are
sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all that
in every place call on the name of the Lord Jesus ;" i. e.
to all visible Christians through the world, or all toe
members of Christ's visible church every where. And
continuing his speech, chap. i. 8. he speaks of them as
those " that God would confirm to the end, that they may
be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ :" plain
ly speaking of them all as persons, iu christian esteem,

454

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

savingly converted. In the next verse, he speaks of the
faithfulness of God as engaged thus to preserve them to
salvation, having called them to the fellowship of his Son.
And in the 30th verse, he speaks of them as having a
saving interest in Christ ; " Of him are ye in Christ Jesus ;
who of God is made unto us wisdom, righteousness,
sanctification, and redemption." In chap. iii. 21 — 23. he
says to the members of the church of Corinth, " All things
are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the
world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to
come ; all are yours, and ye are Christ's." In chap. iv.
15. he tells them, he had begotten them through the gospel.
In chap. vi. 1 — 3. he speaks of them as " those who shall
judge the world, and shall judge angels." And in verse
1 1 . he says to them, " Ye are washed, ye are sanctified, ye
are justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the
Spirit of God." And in chap. xv. 49, to the end, he speaks
of them as having an interest, with him and other Chris
tians, in the happiness and glory of the resurrection of the
just. And in his second epistle, chap. i. 7. he says to
them, " Our hope of you is stedfast ; knowing that as you
are partakers of the sufferings, so shall ye be also of the
consolation." This stedfast hope implies a positive judg
ment. We must here understand the apostle to speak of
such members of the church of Corinth, as had not visibly
backslidden. Again, in the 14th and 15th verses, he speaks
of a confidence which he had, toat they should be his re
joicing in the day of the Lord Jesus. In all reason we
must conclude, there was a visibility of grace, carrying
with it an apparent probability in the eyes of the apostle,
which was the ground of this his confidence. Such an ap
parent probability, and his confidence as built upon it, are both
expressed in chap. iii. 3, 4. " Ye are manifestly declared
to be the epistle of Christ, ministered by us ; written not
with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God ; not in
tables of stone, but in the fleshy tables of toe heart ; and
such trust have we through Christ to God-ward." And in
ver. 1 8. the apostle speaks of them, with himself and other
Christians, as all with open face beholding, as in a glass,
the glory of the Lord, and being changed into the same
image, from glory to glory.
And in toe epistle to the churches of Galatia. chap. iv.
26. toe apostle speaks of visible Christians, as visibly be
longing to heaven, the Jerusalem which is above. And,
ver. 28, 29. represents them to be the children of the pro
mise, as Isaac was ; and born lifter the Spirit. In toe 6th
verse of toe same chapter, he says to the christian Gala
tians, '• Because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spi
rit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father."
And chap. vi. 1. he speaks of those of them that had not
fallen into scandal, as spiritual persons.
In his epistle to feat great church at Ephesus, he
blesses God on behalf of its members, as being, together
with himself and all the faithful in Christ Jesus, " Chosen
in him before toe foundation of toe world, to be holy and
without blame before him in love, being predestinated to
the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, ac
cording to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of
the glory of his grace, wherein God had made them ac
cepted in the beloved : in whom they had redemption
through his blood, the forgiveness of sins." In chap. i.
13, 14. he thus writes to them, " In whom ye also trusted
— In whom after ye believed, ye were sealed wito that
Holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inherit
ance, until the redemption of toe purchased possession."
And in chap. ii. at toe beginning ; " You hath he quicken
ed, who were dead in trespasses and sins." Wife much
more, showing that they were, in a charitable esteem,
regenerated persons, and heirs of salvation.
So in the epistle to the church at Philippi, the apos
tle tells toem, that he " thanks God upon every remem
brance of them, for their fellowship in toe gospel ; being
confident of this very thing, that he which nad begun a
good work in toem, would perform it until the day of
Cbrist : even (says he) as it is meet for me to think this
of you all." If it was meet for him to think this of them,
and to be confident of it, he had at least some appearing
rational probability to found bis judgment and confidence
upon ; for surely it is not meet for reasonable creatures to
think at random, and be confident without reason. In

ver. 25, 26. he speaks of his " confidence that he should
come to them for their furtherance and joy of faith, that their
rejoicing might be more abundant in Christ Jesus."
Which words certainly suppose toat they were persons
who had already received Chrbt, and comfort in him; had
already obtained faith and joy in Christ, and only needed
to have it increased.
In the epistle to the members of the church at Colosse,
the apostle saluting them in toe beginning of the epistle,
" gives thanks for their faith in Christ Jesus, and love to
all saints, and the hope laid up for them in heaven ;" and
sneaks of " the gospel bringing forth fruit in them, since
fee day they knew toe grace of God in truth ;" i.e. since
the day of toeir saving conversion. In chap. i. 8. he
speaks of " their love in the Spirit ;" and ver. 12—14. as
" made meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints
in light ; as being delivered from the power of darkness,
and translated into the kingdom of God's dear Son ; as
having redemption through Christ's blood, and the for
giveness of sins." In chap. iii. at the beginning, he speaks
of them as " risen with Christ ; as being dead ; [i. e. to the
law, to sin, and the world f] as having their life hid with
Christ in God ;" and being such as, " when Christ their
life should appear, should appeal- wito him in glory." In
ver. 7. he speaks of toem as " having once walked and
lived in lusts, but as having now put off the old man with
his deeds, and put on toe new man, which is renewed in
knowledge, after toe image of him feat created him."
In the first epistle to the members of toe church at
Thessalonica, in words annexed to his salutation, chap. i.
he declares what kind of visibility there was of their election
of God, in toe appearance there bad been of true and
saving conversion, and toeir consequent holy life, ver. 3 —
7. And in the beginning of the second epistle, he speaks
of toeir faith and love greatly increasing ; and in ver. 7.
expresses his confidence of meeting toem in eternal rest, when
the Lord Jesus Christ should be revealed from heaven with his
mighty angels. And in chap. ii. 1 3. he gives thanks to God,
that from the beginning he. had chosen them to salvation.
In the epistle to the christian Hebrews, though the
aposti e speaks of some that once belonged to their churches,
but had apostatized and proved themselves hypocrites;
yet concerning the rest that remained in good standing, he
says, chap. vi. 9. " I am persuaded better things of you,
and things that accompany salvation." Where we may
again note, his being thus persuaded evidently implies a
positive judgment. And in chap. xii. 22, &c. he speaks
of toem as visibly belonging to the glorious society of
heaven. And in chap. xiii. 5, 6. he speaks of them as
those who may boldly say, The Lord is my helper.
The apostle James, writing to toe Christians of the
twelve tribes which were scattered abroad, speaks of them
as regenerated persons, meaning, as I observed before,
those which were in good standing. Chap. i. 18. " Of his
own will begat he us by the word of truth, that we should
be a kind of first-fruits of his creatures." The apostle
Peter writing to toe Jewish Christians, scattered through
out Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia,
(large countries, and therefore they must in the whole be
supposed to be a great multitude of people,) to all these,
gives toe title of elect, according to the foreknowledge of
God the Father, through sanctification of toe Spirit unto
obedience, and sprinkling of toe blood of Jesus Christ.
And in the verses next following, speaks of them as rege
nerated, " or begotten again to a lively bope, to an inherit-
*ance incorraptible," &c. And as " kept by the power of
God through faith unto salvation." And says to toem in
ver. 8, 9. " Whom (namely, Christ) having not seen, ye
love ; in whom though now ye see him not, yet believing,
ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory ; receiv
ing fee end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls."
And in ver. 18, to the end, the apostle speaks of toem as
" redeemed from their vain conversation, by the precious
blood of Christ. — And as having purified their souls in
obeying toe truth through the Spirit — Being bom again of
incorruptible seed," &c. And in the former part of chap.
ii. he speaks of them as " living stones, coming to Christ,
and on him built up a spiritual house, an holy priest
hood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God
through Jesus Christ.— And as toose that believe, to whom

Sect. VII.

THE EPISTLES PROVE IT.

455

Christ is precious.  As a chosen generation, a royal
priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people, called out of
darkness into marvellous light." The church at Babylon,
occasionally mentioned in chap. v. 13. is said to be elected
together with them. And in his second epistle (which ap
pears by chap. iii. 1. to be written to the same persons)
the inscription is, To them which have obtained like precious
faith with us, i. e. with the apostles and servants of Christ.
And in the third chapter, he tells them, both his epistles
were designed to stir up their pure minik
in the first epistle of John, written (for ought appears)
to professing Christians in general, chap. ii. 12, &c. toe
apostle tells toem, " He writes to them because their sins
were forgiven, because they had known him that was from
the beginning. — Because they had overcome the wicked
one," &c. In ver. 20, 21 . he tells them, they have an unc
tion from the Holy One, and know all things ; and that he
did not write to them because they had not known the
truth, but because they had known it, &c. And in ver.
27. he says, " The anointing which ye have received of him,
abideth in you, and ye need not that any man should
teach you ; but as the same anointing teacheth you of all
things, and is true, and is no lie ; and even as it hath
taught you, ye shall abide in him." And in the begin
ning of chap. iii. he addresses them as those " who were the
sons of God, who when he should appear should be like
him, because they should see him as he is." In chap. iv.
4. he says, " Ye are of God, little children, and have over
come," &c.
The apostle Jude, in his general epistle, speaks much of
apostates and their wickedness ; but to other professing
Christians, that had not fallen away, he says, ver. 20, 21.
" But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most
holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in
the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus
Christ unto eternal life :" plainly supposing, toat they
had professed faith wito love to God our Saviour, and
were by the apostle considered as his friends and lovers.
— — Many other passages to the like purpose might be
observed in the epistles, but these may suffice.
Now how unaccountable would these things be, if the
members of the primitive christian churches were not ad
mitted into them under any such notion as their being
really godly persons and heirs of eternal life, nor with any
respect to such a character appearing on them ; and that
they themselves joined to these churches without any such
pretence, as having no such opinion of themselves !
But it is particularly evident that they had such an opi
nion of themselves, as well as the apostles of toem, by
many things the apostles say in their epistles. Thus, in
Rom. viii. 15, 16. the apostle speaks of them as " having
received the Spirit of adoption, the Spirit of God bearing
witness with their spirits, that they were the children of
God." — Andchap.v.2.of"theirrejoicinginhopeoftheglory
of God." — In 1 Cor. i. 7. he speaks of them as " waiting for
the coming of the Lord Jesus." In chap. xv. 17. the
apostle says to the members of the church at Corinth, " If
Christ be not raised, your faith is vain, ye are yet in your
sins :" plainly supposing, that they hoped their sins were
forgiven. — In Philip, i. 25, 26. the apostle speaks of his
coming to Philippi, to " increase their joy of faith, and
that their rejoicing in Christ might be more abundant :"
implying, (as was observed before,) that they had received
comfort already, in some degree, as supposing themselves
to have a saving interest in Christ. — In 1 Thess. i. 10. he
speaks of the members of the church at Thessalonica as
" waiting for Christ from heaven, as one who had deliver
ed them from the wrath to come." — In Heb. vi. 9, 10. he
speaks of the christian Hebrews as having that " hope
which was an anchor of their souls." — The apostle Peter,
1 Epist. i. 3—9. speaks ofthe visible Christians he wrote
to, as being " begotten to a lively hope, of an inheritance
incorruptible, &c. — Wherein toey greatly rejoiced," &c. —
And even the members ofthe church of Laodicea, toe very
worst of all the seven churches of Asia, yet looked upon
themselves as truly gracious persons, and made that pro
fession ; they " said they were rich, and increased in goods,
and knew not that toey were wretched and miserable,"
&c. Rev. iii. 17.
It is also evident, that the members of these primitive

churches had this judgment one of another, and of the
members of the visible church of Christ in general. In 1
Thess. iv. 13, &c. the apostle exhorts the christian Thessa-
lonians, in mourning for their deceased friends who were
visible Christians, not to sorrow as the hopeless heathen
were wont to do for their departed friends ; upon this con
sideration, that they had reason to expect to meet them
again in glorious circumstances at the day of judgment,
never to part more. The ground of comfort concerning
their dead friends, is evidently something' more than such
a hope as we ought to have of all that profess christian doc
trines, and are not scandalous in life, whom we must for
bear to censure, because we do not know but they are true
saints. — The members of the church of Sardis, next to
Laodicea, the worst of the seven churches of Asia, yet had
a name that they lived ; though Christ, who speaks to these
seven churches from heaven, in the character ofthe Searcher
of hearts,(see Rev.ii. 23.) explicitly tells them, that they were
dead; perhaps all in adead frame, and the most in a dead state.
These things evidently show, how all the christian
churches through the world were constituted in those days ;
and what sort of holiness or saintship it was, that all visible
Christians in good standing had a visibility and profession
of, in that apostolic age ; and also what sort of visibility of
this they had, viz. not only that which gave them right to
a kind of negative charity, or freedom from censure, but
that which might justly induce a positive judgment in their
favour. The churches to whom these epistles were writ
ten, were all the principal churches in the world ; some of
them very large, as the churches at Corinth and Ephesus.
Some of the epistles were directed to all the churches
through large countries where the gospel had great success,
as the epistle to the Galatians. The epistle to the He
brews was written to all the Jewish Christians in the land
of Canaan, in distinction from the Jews that lived in other
countries, who were called Hellenists or Grecians, because
they generally spake the Greek tongue. The epistles of
Peter were written to all the christian Jews through many
countries, Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithy-
nia ; containing great numbers of Jews, beyond any other
Gentile countries. The epistle of James was directed to
all christian Jews, scattered abroad through the whole
world. The epistles of John and Jude, for ought appears
in those epistles, were directed to all visible Christians
through the whole world. And the apostle Paul directs
the first epistle to the Corinthians, not only to the mem
bers of that church, but to all professing Christians on
the face of the earth : 1 Cor. i. 2. and chap. xiv. 33. calling
them all churches ofthe saints. And by what Christ says
to the churches of' Sardis and Laodicea in toe Apocalypse,
of whom more evil is said than of any christian churches
spoken of in the New Testament, it appears that even the
members of those churches looked on themselves as in a
state of salvation, and had such a name with others.
Here possibly some may object, and say, It will not
follow from the apostles speaking to and of the members
of the primitive church after the manner which has been
observed, as though they supposed them to be gracious
persons, that therefore a profession and appearance of this
was looked upon in those days as a requisite qualification
for admission into the visible church ; because another
reason may be given for it, viz. Such was the extraordinary
state of things at that day, that the greater part of those
converted from heathenism and Judaism to Christianity,
were hopefully gracious persons, by reason of its being a day
of such large communications of divine grace, and such
greatand unavoidable sufferings of professors, &c. — And the
apostles knowing those facts, might properly speak to and
of the churches, as if they were societies of truly gracious
persons, because there was just ground on such accounts,
to think the greater part of them to be so; although no
profession or visibility of this was requisite in their mem
bers by the constitution of those churches, and the door of
admission was as open for others as for such.
But this cannot be a satisfactory nor a true account of
the matter, if we consider the following things.
(1 .) The apostles in the very superscription or direction
of their letters to these churches, and in their salutation at
the beginning of their epistles, speak of them as gracious
persons. For instance, the apostle Peter, in the direction

456

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

of his first letter to all professing Jewish Christians
through many countries, says thus, " To the strangers
scattered through Pontus, &c. elect, according to the fore
knowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the
Spirit unto obedience, and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus
Christ." And in his directing his second epistle to the
same persons, he says, " Simon Peter, a servant and au
apostle of Jesus Christ, to them that have obtained like
precious faith with us," &c. And the apostle Paul directs
his epistle to the Romans thus, " To them that be at
Rome, beloved of God." So he directs his first epistle
to the Corinthians thus, " Unto the church of God which
is at Corinth, to them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus."
In what sense he means sanctified, his following words
show, ver. 4 — 9. The same was before observed of words
annexed to the apostle's salutations, in the beginning of
several of the epistles. This shows, that the apostles ex
tend this character as far as they do the epistles them
selves. Which surely would be very improper, and not
agreeable to truth, if the apostles at "the same time knew
very well that such a character did not belong to members
of churches, as such, and that they were not received into
those churches with any regard to such a character, or
upon the account of any right they had to be esteemed
such persons. In the superscription of letters to societies
of men, we are wont to give them that title or denomination
which properly belongs to them as members of such a
body. Thus, if one should write to the Royal Society in
London, or the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, it
would be proper and natural to give them the title of
Learned ; for whetoer every one of the members truly de
serve the epithet, or not, yet the title is agreeable to their
profession, and what is known to be aimed at, and is pro
fessedly insisted on, in the admission of members. But if
one should write to the House of Commons, or to the East-
India Company, and in his superscription give them the
title of Learned, this would be very improper, and ill-judg
ed ; because that character does not belong to their profes
sion as members of that body, and learning is not a quali
fication insisted on in their admission of members. Nor
would it excuse the impropriety, though the writer might,
from his special acquaintance, know- it to be fact, that the
greater part of them were men of learning. To inscribe a
letter to them, would be something strange ; but more
strange, if it should appear, by various instances, to be a
custom so to direct letters to such societies ; as it seems
to be toe manner of toe apostles, in their epistles to
christian churches, to address toem under titles which
imply a profession and visibility of true holiness.
(2.) The apostle John, in his general epistle, very
plainly manifests, that all to whom he wrote were supposed
to have true grace, inasmuch as he declares this to be the
qualification he respects in writing to toem ; and lets toem
know, he writes to them for that reason, because they are
supposed to be persons of toe character of such as' have
known God, overcome the wicked one, and have had their
sins forgiven them. 1 John ii. 12 — 14, 21.
(3.) The apostles, when speaking of visible Christians,
as a society, and what belongs to such a kind of society,
speak of it as visibly (i. e. in profession and reputation)
a society of gracious persons. So the apostle Peter speaks
of them as a spiritual house, an holy and royal priesthood,
an holy nation, a peculiar people, a chosen or elect gene
ration, called out of darkness into marvellous light, 1 Pet.
ii. — The apostle Paul also speaks of them as the family of
God, Eph. ii. 19. And in the next chapter he explains
himself to mean that family a part of which is ire heaven ;
i. e. they were by profession a part of that divine family.
(4.) The apostle Paul speaks often and expressly of the
members of fee churches to whom he wrote, as all of them
in esteem and visibility truly gracious persons. Philip, i.
6. " Being confident of this very thing, that he which has
begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of
the Lord Jesus Christ : even as it is meet for me to think
this of you all " (that is, all singly taken, not collec
tively, according to the distinction before observed). So
Gal. iv. 26. " Jerusalem which is above, which is the
mother of us all." Rom. vi. " As many of us as have been
baptized into Christ, have been baptized into his death."
Here he speaks of all toat have been baptized ; and in the

continuation of the discourse, explaining what is here said,
he speaks of their " being dead to sin, no longer under toe
law, but under grace ; having obeyed the form of doctrine
from the heart, being made free from sin, and become the
servants of righteousness," &c. Rom. xiv. 7, 8. "None of
us liveth to himself ', and no man dieth to himself;"
(taken together wito the context;) 2 Cor. iii. 18. " We
all wife open face beholding as in a glass," &c. ; and
Gal. iii. 26. " Ye are all the children of God by faith."
(5.) It is evident, that even in those churches where the
greater part of the members were not true saints, as in
those degenerate churches of Sardis and Laodicea, which
we may suppose were become very lax in their admissions
and discipline ; yet they looked upon themselves as truly
gracious persons, and had with others the reputation o'f
such. (6.) If we should suppose, that, by reason of the extra
ordinary state of things in that day, the apostles had reason
to think fee greater part of the members of churches to be
true Christians, yet unless profession and appearance of
tme Christianity was their proper qualification and the
ground of their admission — and unless it was supposed
feat all of them esteemed themselves true Christians — it is
altogether unaccountable that the apostles in toeir epistles
to them never make any express particular distinction be
tween those different sorts of members. If the churches
were made up of persons who looked on themselves in
so different a state — some the children of God, and others
the children of the devil, some the high favourites of heaven
and heirs of eternal glory, others toe children of wrath,
being under condemnation to eternal deato, and every
moment in danger of dropping into hell — why do the
apostles make no distinction in their manner of addressing
them, and in the counsels, reproofs, and warnings toey
gave toem ? Why do they never direct their speech to the
unconverted members of churches, in particular, in a man
ner tending to awaken them, and make them sensible of
the miserable condition they were in, and press them to
seek the converting grace of God ? It is to be considered,
that the apostle Paul was very particularly acquainted
with the circumstances of most of those churches to wbom
he wrote; for he had been among them, was their spiritual
father, had been the instrument of gathering and founding
those churches, and they had received all their instructions
and directions relating to Christianity and their soul-con
cerns from him ; nor can it be questioned but feat many of
them had opened the case of their souls to him. And if
he was sensible, that there was a number among them who
made no pretensions to a regenerate state, and that none
had reason to judge them to be in such a state, be knew
that toe sin of such — who lived in the rejection of a
Saviour, even in the very house of God, in fee midst of
gospel-light, and in violation of the most sacred vows — was
peculiarly aggravated, and their guilt and state peculiarly
dreadful. Why should he therefore never particularly and
distinctly point his addresses to such, applying himself to
them in much compassion to their souls, and putting them
in mind of their awful circumstances ? But instead of this,
we observe him continually lumping all together, and
indifferently addressing the whole body, as if toey were all
in happy circumstances, expressing his charity for them
all, and congratulating them all in their glorious and eter
nal privilege. Instead of speaking to them in such a
manner as should have a tendency to alarm them wife a
sense of danger, we see him, on the contrary, calling on all
without distinction to rejoice. Philip, iii. 1. "Finally,
my brethren, rejoice in the Lord." So, 2 Cor. xiii. 11.
" Finally, brethren, be of good comfort." Philip, iv. 4.
" Rejoice in toe Lord alway, and again I say, Rejoice."
The matter is insisted upon, as though rejoicing were a
duty especially proper for toem, and what they had the
highest reason for. The apostle not only did not preach
terror to those to whom he wrote, but is careful to guard
them against fears of God's wrath. In 1 Thess. v. at the
beginning, toe apostle observes, how toat Christ will come
on ungodly men " as a thief in toe night ; and when they
shall say, Peace and safety, then sudden destruction shall
come upon them, as travail on a woman with child, and
they shall not escape :" then immediately he uses caution,
that the members of the church at Thessaloiiica should not

Sect. VII.

THE EPISTLES PROVE IT.

457

take this to themselves, and be terrified, as though toey
were in danger ; and says, in toe next words, " But ye,
bretbren, are not in darkness, that toat day should over
take vou as a thief; ye are all the children of light, and the
children ofthe day.'' Ver. 9—11. " For God hath not
appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our
Lord Jesus Christ; who died for us, that whether we
wake or sleep, we should live together wito him. Where
fore comfort yourselves together, and edify one another ;
even as also ye do." And ver. 16. " Rejoice evermore."
How diverse is this way of treating churches, from the
method in which faithful ministers are wont to deal with
their congregations, wherein are many that make no pre
tence to true piety, and from the way in which Mr. Stod
dard was wont to deal with his congregation. And how
would he have undoubtedly judged such a way of treat
ing them the most direct course in the world eternally to
undo toem ! And shall we determine toat the apostle Paul
was one of those prophets, who daubed with untempered
mortar, and sewed pillows under all arm-holes, and healed
the hurt of immortal souls slightly, crying, Peace, peace,
when there was no peace. — These things make it most
evident, that the primitive churches were not constituted
as those modem churches, where persons knowing and
owning themselves unregenerate, are admitted, on prin
ciple. If it be here objected, that the apostle sometimes exhorts
those to whom he writes, to put off the old man, and put on
the new man, and to be renewed in the spirit of their minds,
&c. as exhorting toem to seek conversion : I answer, that
the meaning is manifestly this, That they should mortify
the remains of corruption, or the old man, and turn more
and more from sin to God. Thus he exhorts the Ephe-
sians to be renewed, &c. Eph. iv. 22, 23. whom yet he had
before in the same epistle abundantly represented as
savingly renewed already ; as has been before observed.
And fee like might be shown of other instances.
(7.) It is clear, not only that the greater part of the
members of the primitive churches were to appearance
true Christians ; but that they were taken in under that
notion, and because there appeared in them grounds of
such an estimation of them. When any happened to be
admitted that were otherwise, it was beside their aim ; in
asmuch as when others were admitted, they are represent
ed as brought or .crept in unawares. Thus the matter is
represented by the apostles. Jude, ver. 4. " There are cer
tain men crept in unawares — ungodly men, turning the
grace of God into lasciviousness." Gal. ii. 4. " False
brethren, unawares brought in." If it be said, these here
spoken of were openly scandalous persons and heretics :
I answer, they were not openly scandalous when they were
brought in ; nor is there any reason to think they were
heretics when admitted, though afterwards they turned
apostates. Mr. Stoddard says, It does not follow that all
hypocrites crept in unawares because some did. (Appeal,
p. 17.) To which I would humbly say, It must be cer
tainly true with respect to all hypocrites who were ad
mitted, either that the church which admitted them was
aware they were such, or else was not. If there were
some of whom the church was aware that they were hypo
crites, at the time when they were taken in, then the
church, in admitting them, did not follow the rule that
Mr. Stoddard often declares himself to suppose ought to
be followed in admitting members, viz. to admit none but
what in a judgment of rational charity are true Christians.
(Appeal, 'p. 2, 3, 10, 28, 33, 67, 73, 93, 94.) But that
not only heretics and designing dissemblers crept in un
awares, but that all false brethren, all church-members not
truly gracious, did so, appears by such being represented
as bastards in a family, who are false children and false
heirs, brought into it unawares, and imposed upon the
disposers of those privileges by stealth. — Heb. xii. 8. " If
ye are without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then
are ye bastards, and not sons."
Thus it is abundantly manifest, from the apostolical
writings, how the visible church of Christ, through the
whole world, was at first constituted, under the direction
of the apostles themselves, who regulated it according to
the infallible guidance ofthe Spirit of their great Lord and
Master. — And doubtless, as the christian church was con

stituted then, so it ought to be constituted now. What
better rule have we for our ecclesiastical regulations in
other respects, than what was done in the primitive
churches, under the apostles' own direction ; as particu
larly the standing officers of the church, presbyters and
deacons, the method of introducing ministers in their ordi
nation, &c. ? In this matter that I have insisted on, I
think the Scripture is abundantly more full, than in those
other things.

SECT. VIII.
The Scripture represents the visible church of Christ, as a
society having its several members united by the bond of
christian brotherly love.
Besides that general benevolence or charity which the
saints have to mankind, and which they exercise towards
both the evil and the good in common, there is a peculiar
and very distinguishing kind of affection, that every true
Christian experiences towards those whom he looks upon
as truly gracious persons. The soul, at least at times, is
very sensibly and sweetly knit to such persons, and there
is an ineffable oneness of heart with them ; whereby, to
use the scripture phrase, (Acts iv. 32.) " They are of one
heart and one soul :" which holy affection is exercised
towards others on account of the spiritual image of God
in them, their supposed relation to God as his children,
and to Christ as his members, and to them as their spirit
ual brethren in Christ. This sacred affection is a very
good and distinguishing note of true grace, much spoken
of as such in Scripture, under the name of 0iX-_<-\0<a, the
love of the brethren, or brotherly love ; and is called by
Christ, " the receiving a righteous man in the name of a
righteous man ; and receiving one of Christ's little ones in
the name of a disciple, or because he belongs to Christ ;"
(Matt. x. 41, 42. Mark ix. 41.) and a " loving one another
as Christ has loved them ;" (John xiii. 34. and xv. 13— 1 5.)
having a peculiar image of that oneness which is between
Christ himself and his saints. Compare John xvii. 20, to
the end.
This love the apostles are often directing Christians to
exercise towards fellow-members of the visible church;
as in Rom. xii. 10. " Be ye kindly affectioned one to
another with brotherly love." The words are much more
emphatical in the original, and represent in a more lively
manner, that peculiar endearment there is between gracious
persons, or those that look on one another as such ; -m
(pi\aie\iiii* en aUnisr #.Xo5op7oi. The expressions properly
signify, cleaving one to another with brotherly, natural,
strong endearment. With the like emphasis and energy
does the apostle Peter express himself, 1 Epist. i. 22.
" Seeing ye have purified your souls in obeying the
truth through the Spirit, unto unfeigned love of the
brethren, (eis 0iXa8e\0(«v awrroKptrov,) see that ye love one
another with a pure heart fervently." Again, chap. iii.
8. " Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion
one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be court
eous." The words in the Greek are much more sig
nificant, elegant, and forcible; Trailer ofloippoiies, aDfiiraSeis,
0.\a3eA0_/, €vtrir\atxvoi, 0i\o0pouee. The same peculiar en
dearment the apostle has doubtless respect to in chap. iv.
" Above all things have fervent charity among yourselves."
And from time to time, he considers it as a note of their
piety. Col. i. 4. " We heard of your faith in Christ
Jesus, and of the love which ye have to all saints."
1 Thess. iv. 9. " As touching brotherly love, ye need not
that I write unto you ; for ye yourselves are taught of
God to love one another." So Philem. 5. " Hearing of
thy love and faith, which thou hast towards the Lord Jesus
Christ, and towards all saints." And this is what he ex
horts to, Heb. xiii. 1. " Let brotherly love continue."
1 Thess. v. 26. " Greet all the brethren with an holy kiss."
Compare 1 Cor. xvi. 20. 2 Cor. xiii. 12. and 1 Pet. v. 14.
This tpiXnSeXQia, or love to the brethren, is that virtue
which the apostle John so much insists on in his first
epistle, as one of the most distinguishing characteristics of
true grace, and a peculiar evidence that God dwelleth in
us, and we in God. By which must needs be understood

458

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

a love to saints as saints, or on account of toe spiritual
image of God supposed to be in them, and their spiritual
relation to God ; according as it has always been under
stood by orthodox divines. No reasonable doubt can be
made, but that the apostle John, in this epistle, has re
spect to the same sort of love, which Christ prescribed to
his disciples, in that which he called by way of eminency
his commandment, and his new commandment, which
he gave as a great mark of their being truly his disciples, as
this same apostle gives an account in his gospel ; and to
which he plainly refers, when speaking of the love Gf the
brethren in his epistle, chap. ii. 7, 8. and iii. 23. But that
love, which Christ speaks of in his new commandment, is
spoken of as between those that Christ loves, or is supposed
to love ; and which has his love to them for its ground and
pattern. And if this q>i%a6e\q>ia, this love of the brethren,
so much spoken of by Christ, and by toe apostles Paul and
John, be not that peculiar affection which gracious persons
or true saints have one to another, which is so great a part,
and so remarkable an exercise, of true grace, where is it
spoken of at all in the New Testament ?
We ' see how often the apostles exhort visible Christians
to exercise this affection to all other members of the visible
church of Christ, and how often they speak of the members
of the visible church as actually thus united, in places al
ready mentioned. In 2 Cor. ix. 14. the apostle speaks of
the members of other churches loving toe members of the
church of Corinth, with this peculiar endearment and one
ness of heart, for the grace of God in them ; " And by
their prayer for you, which long after you, for the exceed
ing grace of God in you." The word translated long after,
is emTroOuvTuis which properly signifies to love with an ex
ceeding and dear love. And this is represented as the bond
that unites all the members of the visible church ; Acts
iv. 32. " And the multitude of them that believed were of
one heart and one soul." This is the same thing which
elsewhere is called being of one mind: 1 Pet. iii. 8. " Fi
nally, be ye all of one mind." And being of the same
mind; 1 Cor. i. 10. " That ye be perfectly joined together
in the same mind." And Philip, iv. 2. "I beseech
Euodias, and beseech Syntyche, that toey be of the same
mind in the Lord." And being like-minded, (fee word is
toe same in the Greek,) Rom. xv. 5, 6. "Now the God
of patience and consolation grant you to be like-minded
one towards another ; toat ye may wito one mind, and one
mouth, glorify God, even fee Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ." There is reason to think, that it is this oneness of
mind, or being of one heart and soul, is meant by that
charity which fee apostle calls the bond of perfectness,
Col. iii. 14. and represents as the bond of union between
all the members ofthe body, in Eph. iv. 15, 16. "But
speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all
things, which is toe head, even Christ ; from whom the
whole body fitly joined together, and compacted bv toat
which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual
working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of
the body, unto the edifying itself in love."
Herein seems much to consist the nature of scandal in
the members of a church, viz. such an offence as is a
wound and interruption to this kind of affection, being a
stumbling-block to a christian judgment, in regard of it-
esteem of the offender as a real Christian, and what much
lessens the visibility of his christian character. And
therefore when scandal is removed by visible repentance,
the church is directed to confirm their love to the offender,
2 Cor. ii. 8.
Now this intimate affection towards others as brethren
in Christ and fellow-members of him, must have some ap
prehension of the understanding, some judgment of the
mind, for its foundation. To say, that we must thus love
others as visible members of Christ, if any thing else he
meant, toan toat we must love them because toey are
visibly, or as they appear to our judgment, real members
of Christ, is in effect to say, that we must thus love them
without any foundation at all. In order to a real and
fervent affection to another, on account of some amiable
ness of qualification or relation, the mind must first judge
there is.that amiableness in the object. The affections of
toe mind are not so at command toat we can make them
strongly to go forth to an object as having such loveliness,

when at the same time we do not positively judge any
such thing concerning them, but only hope it may be so,
because we see no sufficient reason to determine the con
trary. There must be a positive dictate of the understand
ing, and some degree of satisfaction of the judgment, to
be a ground of that oneness of heart and soul, which is
agreeable to scripture representations of ^iXadeA^ia, or
brotherly love. And a supposition only of that moral
sincerity and. virtue, or common grace, which some insist
upon, though it may be a sufficient ground of this inti
mate affection to them as brethren in the family of a
heavenly Father,— this fervent love to them in the bowels
of Jesus Christ. For gospel-sinners and domestic enemies
in the house of God, Christians know, are of all others the
most hateful enemies to Christ.
It well agrees with the wisdom of Christ, with toat
Eeculiar favour he has manifested to his saints, and with
is dealings towards them in many other respects, to sup
pose, he has made provision in his institutions, that they
might have the comfort of uniting with such as their hearts
are united with, in some special religious exercises and
duties of worship, and visible intercourse with their Re
deemer; that they should join with those concerning
whom they can have some satisfaction of mind, that they
are cordially united with them in adoring and expressing
their love to their common Lord and Saviour, feat they
may with one mind, with one heart, and one soul, as well
as with one mouth, glorify him ; as in the forementioned
Rom. xv. 5, 6. compared with Acts iv. 32. This seems
to be what this heavenly affection naturally inclines to.
And how eminently fit and proper for this purpose is the
sacrament of toe Lords supper, toe christian church's
great feast of love ; wherein Christ's people sit together as
brethren in the family of God, at then- Father's table, to
feast on the love of their Redeemer, commemorating his
sufferings for them, and his dying love to them, and seal
ing their love to him and one another ! — It is hardly
credible, that Christ has so ordered things as that there
are no instituted social acts of worship, wherein his saints
are to manifest their respect to him, but such as wherein
they ordinarily are obliged (if the rule for admissions be
carefully attended) to join with a society of fellow-wor
shippers, concerning whom toey have no reason to think
but toat toe greater part of them are unconverted, (and
are more provoking enemies to that Lord toey love and
adore, toan most of fee very heathen,) which Mr. Stoddard
supposes to be the case with toe members of the visible
church. Appeal, p. 16,

SECT. IX.
It is necessary, that those who partake of the Lord's supper,
should judge themselves truly and cordially to accept of
Christ, as their only Saviour and chief good ; for of
this the actions which communicants perform at the Lord's
table, are a solemn profession.
There is in the Lord's supper a mutual solemn pro
fession of the two parties transacting the covenant of grace,
and visibly united in that covenant ; the Lord Christ by
his minister, on the one hand, and toe communicants
(who are professing believers) on the other. The ad
ministrator of the ordinance acts in the quality of Christ's
minister, acts in his name, as representing him ; and stands
in toe place where Christ himself stood at the first ad
ministration of this sacrament, and in toe original insti
tution of toe ordinance. Christ, by the speeches and
actions of the minister, makes a solemn profession of his
part in the covenant of grace : he exhibits the sacrifice
of his body broken and his blood shed ; and in the
minister's offering the sacramental bread and wine to the
communicants, Christ presents himself to toe believing
communicants, as their propitiation and bread of life ;
and by these outward signs confirms and seals his sincere
engagements to be toeir Saviour and food, and to impart
to them all the benefits of his propitiation and salvation.
And toey, in receiving what is offered, and eating and
dnnking the symbols of Christ's body and blood, also
profess their part in the covenant of grace : they profess

Sect. IX.

QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE LORD'S SUPPER.

459

to embrace the promises and lay hold of toe hope set be
fore them, to receive the atonement, to receive Christ as
their spiritual food, and to feed upon him in toeir hearts
by faith. Indeed what is professed on both sides is toe
heart : for Christ, in offering himself, professes the will
ingness of his heart to be theirs who truly receive him ;
and the communicants, on toeir part, profess the willing
ness of their hearts to receive him, which they declare by
significant actions. They profess to take Christ as their
spiritual food, and bread of life. To accept of Christ as
our bread of life, is to accept of him as our Saviour and
portion ; as food is both the means of preserving life, and
is also the refreshment and comfort of life. The signifi
cation of the word manna, that great type of this bread of
life, is a portion. That which God offers to us as our
food, he offers as our portion ; and toat which we accept
as our food, we accept as our portion. Thus the Lord's
supper is plainly a mutual renovation, confirmation, and
seal of the covenant of grace : both the covenanting
parties profess their consent to toeir respective parts in toe
covenant, and each affixes his seal to his profession. And
there is in this ordinance the very same thing acted over
in profession and sensible signs, which is spiritually trans
acted between Christ and his spouse in the covenant that
unites them. Here we have from time to time toe glorious
bridegroom exhibiting himself with his great love that is
stronger than death, appearing clothed in robes of grace,
and engaging himself, with all his glory and love, and its
infinite benefits, to be theirs, who receive him : and here
we have his spouse accepting this bridegroom, choosing him
for her friend, her only Saviour and portion, and relying
on him for all his benefits. And thus toe covenant-trans
action of this spiritual marriage is confirmed and sealed,
from time to time. The actions of the communicants at
the Lord's table have as expressive and significant a lan
guage, as the most solemn words. When a person in this
ordinance takes and ears and drinks those things which
represent Christ, the plain meaning and implicit profession
of these his actions, is this, " I take this crucified Jesus
as my Saviour, my sweetest food, my chief portion, and
the life of my soul, consenting to acquiesce in him as such,
and to hunger and thirst after him only, renouncing aU
other saviours, and all other portions, for his sake." The
actions, thus interpreted, are a proper renovation and rati
fication of the covenant of grace ; and no otherwise. And
those that take and eat and drink the sacramental elements
at the Lord's table with any other meaning, I fear, know
not what they do.
The actions at the Lord's supper thus implying, in their
nature and signification, a renewing and confirming of the
covenant, there is a declarative explicit covenanting sup
posed to precede it ; which is the profession of religion,
before spoken of, that qualifies a person for admission to
the Lord's supper. And doubtless there is, or ought to
be, as much explicitly professed in words, as is implicitly
professed in these actions ; for by these significant actions,
the communicant sets his seal but to his profession. The
established signs in the Lord's supper are fully equivalent
to words ; they are a renewing and reiterating the same
thing which was done before; only with this difference,
that now it is done by speaking signs, whereas before it
was by speaking sounds. Our taking fee bread and wine
is as much a professing to accept of Christ, at least, as a
woman's taking a ring of the bridegroom in her marriage
is a profession and seal of her taking him for her hus
band. The sacramental elements in the Lord's supper
represent Christ as a party in covenant, as truly as a proxy
represents a prince to a foreign lady in her marriage ; and
our taking those elements is as truly a professing to
accept of Christ, as in the other case the lady's taking the
proxy is her professing to accept the prince as her nus-
band. Or the matter may more fitly be represented by
this similitude : it is as if a prince should send an ambas
sador to a woman in a foreign land, proposing marriage,
and by his ambassador should send her his picture, and
should desire her to manifest her acceptance of his suit,
not only by professing her acceptance in words to his am
bassador, but in token of her sincerity openly to take or
accept that picture, and to seal her profession, by thus re
presenting the matter over again by a symbolical action.

To suppose persons ought thus solemnly to profess
that which at the same time they do not at all imagine
they experience in themselves, and do not really pretend
to, is a very great absurdity. For a man sacramentally
to make such a profession of religion, proceeding avowedly
on the foot of such doctrine, is to profess that which he
does not profess ; his actions being no established signs of
the thing supposed to be professed, nor carrying in them
the least pretension to it. And therefore doing thus can
be no man's duty ; unless it be men's duty to make a
solemn profession of that which in truth they make re-
profession of. The Lord's supper is most evidently a pro
fessing ordinance ; and the communicants' profession must
be such as is adjusted to the nature and design of the
ordinance ; which nothing short of faith in the blood of
Christ will answer, even faith unfeigned, which worketh
by love. A profession therefore exclusive of this, is essen
tially defective, and quite unsuitable to the character of a
co»!?re_reicare.. When the apostle says, 1 Cor. xi. 28. " Let a man ex
amine himself, and so let him eat ;" it seems most rea
sonable to understand it of trying himself with regard to
the truth of his Christianity, or the reality of his grace ;
the same as 2 Cor. xiii. 5. where the same word is used
in the original. The Greek word (aomjuafc™) will not
allow of what some have supposed to be the apostle's
meaning, viz. that a man should consider and inquire into
his circumstances, and the necessities of his case, that he
may know what are the wants for the supply of which he
should go to the Lord's table. The word properly signi
fies proving or trying a thing with respect to its quality
and goodness, or in order to determine whether it be true
and ofthe right sort. And so the word is always used in
the New Testament ; unless that sometimes it is used
metonymically, and in such places is variously translated,
either discerning, or allowing, approving, liking, fyc. these
being the effects of trial. Nor is the word used more
frequently in the New Testament for any sort of trial what
ever, than for the trial of professors with regard to their
grace or piety. The word (as Dr. Ames in his Cateche-
seos Sciagraphia, and Mr. Willard in his Body of Di
vinity, observe) is borrowed from goldsmiths, properly
signifying the trial they make of their silver and gold,
whether it be genuine or counterfeit : and with a manifest
allusion to this original application of the word, is often
used in the New Testament for trying the piety of pro
fessors. It is used with this view in all the following
texts : 1 Pet. i. 7. " That the trial of your faith, being
much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it
be tried by fire, might be found unto praise," &c. 1 Cor. iii,
13. "The fire shall try every man's work of what sort it
is." James i. 3. " The trying of your faith worketh pa
tience." 1 Thess. ii. 4. " God who trieth our hearts."
The same word is used in 2 Cor. viii. 8. " To prove the
sincerity of your love." So, Gal. vi. 3, 4. " If any man
thinketh himself to be something, when he is nothing, he
deceiveth himself : but let every man prove his own work."
In all these places there is the same word in the Greek
with that in fee text now under consideration.
When the apostle directs professing Christians to try
themselves, using this word indefinitely, as properly signi
fying the examining or proving of a thing whether it be
genuine or counterfeit, the most natural construction of his
advice is, that they should try themselves with respect to
their spiritual state and religious profession, whether they
are disciples indeed, real and genuine Christians, or whether
they are not false and hypocritical professors. As if a
man should bring a piece of metal that had the colour of
gold, with the impress of the king's coin, to a goldsmith,
and desire him to try that money, without adding any
words to limit his meaning, would not the goldsmith natu
rally understand, that he was to try whether it was true
gold or true money ?
But here it is said by some, that the context of the
passage under debate (1 Cor. xi. 28.) plainly limits the
meaning of the word in that place ; the apostle there
speaking of those things that had appeared among the
communicants at Corinth, which were of a scandalous na
ture, so doubtless unfitting them for the Lord's supper ;
and therefore when the apostle directs them to examine or

460

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part II.

prove themselves, it is but just, to suppose his meaning
to be, that they should try whether they be not disquali
fied by scandal. — To this I answer, though the apostle
putting the Corinthians upon trying themselves, was on
occasion of mentioning some scandalous practices found
among them, yet this is by no means any argument of its
being only his meaning, that they should try themselves
whether they were scandalous persons ; and not, that they
should try whether they were genuine Christians. The
very nature of scandal (as was observed before) is, that
which tends to obscure the visibility of the piety of pro
fessors, and wound others' charity towards them, by bring
ing the reality of their grace into doubt ; and therefore
what could be more natural, than for the apostle, when
mentioning such scandals among the Corinthians, to put
them upon trying the state of their souls, and proving
their sincerity? This is certainly the case in this apostle's
directing the same persons to prove themselves, 2 Cor. xiii.
5. using the same word there which he uses here, and
giving his direction on the like occasion. For in the se
cond epistle (as well as in the first) his putting them on
examining and proving themselves, was on occasion of his
mentioning some scandals found among them ; as is plain
from the foregoing context. And yet there it is expressly
said, that the thing concerning which he directs tbem to
prove themselves, is, whether they be ire the faith, and
whether Christ is in them. Nor is there any thing more
in the preceding context of one place, than in that of the
other, obliging or leading us to understand the apostle to
intend only a trying whether they were scandalous, and not
whether they were sincere Christians.
And as to the words following in the next verse ; " For
he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh
judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord's body :" —
these words by no means make it evident, (as some hold,)
that what the apostle would have them examine them
selves about, is, whether they have doctrinal knowledge,
sufficient to understand, that the bread and wine in fee
sacrament signify the body and blood of Christ : but on
the contrary, to interpret the apostle in this sense only, is
unreasonable, upon several accounts. (1.) None can so
much as attempt such an examination, without first know
ing, that the Lord's body and blood is signified by these
elements. For merely a man putting this question to
himself, Do I understand that this bread and this wine sig
nify the body and blood of Christ ? supposes him already
to Know it from a previous information ; and therefore to
exhort persons to such an examination, would be absurd.
And then, (2.) It is incredible, that there should be any
such gross ignorance in a number of the communicants in
the Corinthian church, if we consider what the Scripture
informs us concerning that church. St. Paul was an able
and thorough instructor and spiritual father, who founded
that church, brought them out of their heathenish dark
ness, and initiated them in the christian religion. He
had instructed them in the nature and ends of gospel-or

dinances, and continued at Corinto, constantly labouring
in the word and doctrine for a long while, no less than
a year and six months ; and, we may well suppose, ad
ministered the Lord's supper among them every Lord's
day ; for the apostle speaks of it as toe manner of toat
church to communicate at the Lord's table with such fre
quency, 1 Cor. xvi. 2. And the Corinthian church, when
the apostle wrote this epistle, was noted for excelling in
doctrinal knowledge ; as is evident by chap i. 5—7. and
several other passages in the epistle. Besides, the com
municants were expressly told at every communion, every
week, when the bread and wine were delivered to them in
the administration, that the bread signified toe body, and
that the wine signified the blood, of Christ. And, (3.)
The apostle by his argument in chap. x. 16. supposes the
Corinthians doctrinally acquainted with this subject al
ready. It therefore appears to me much more reasonable,
to apprehend the case to be thus : the offensive behaviour
of the communicants at Corinth gave the apostle reason to
suspect, that some of them came to the Lord's table with
out a proper impression and true sense of the great and
glorious things toere signified ; having no habitual hunger
or relish for the spiritual food there represented, no inward
vital and experimental taste of that flesh ofthe Son of man,
which is meat indeed. The word translated discerning,
signifies to discriminate or distinguish. The taste is fee
proper sense wherebv to discern or distinguish food. Job
xxxiv. 3. And it is by a spiritual sense or taste we discern
or distinguish spiritual food. Heb. v. 14. — " Those who
by reason of use, have their senses exercised to discern
both good and evil :" n-po* .mnpi.iv, &c. a word of the same
root with that rendered discerning, in 1 Cor. xi. 29. He
that has no habitual relish of that spiritual food, which is
represented and offered at the Lord's table ; he that has
no spiritual taste, wherewith to perceive any thing more
at the Lord's supper, than in common food ; or toat has no
higher view, than wito a little seeming devotion to eat
bread, in the way of an ordinance, but without regarding
in his heart the spiritual meaning and end of it, and with
out being at all suitably affected by the dying love of
Christ therein commemorated ; such a one may most truly
and properly be said not to discern the Lord's body. —
When therefore the apostle exhorts to self-examination as
a preparative for the sacramental supper^ he may well be
understood to put professors upon inquiring whether they
have such a principle of faith, by means whereof they are
habitually in a capacity and disposition of mind to discern
the Lords body, practically and spiritually, (as well as
speculatively and notionally,) in their communicating at
fee Lord's table : which is what none can do who have a
faith short of that which is justifying and saving. It is only
a living faith that capacitates men to discern the Lord s
body in the sacrament with that spiritual sensation or
spiritual gust, which is suitable to the nature and design of
the ordinance, and which the apostle seems principally to
intend.

PART III.

OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.

OBJECT. I.
The Scripture calls toe members of the visible church
by toe name of disciples, scholars, or learners : and that
suggests to us this notion of the visible church, that it is
the school of Christ, into which persons are admitted in
order to their learning of Christ, and coming to spiritual
attainments, in the use. of the means of teaching, discipline,
and training up, established in the school. Now if this
be a right notion of the visible church, then reason shows
that no other qualifications are necessary in order to being
members of this school, than such a faith and disposition of
mind as are requisite to persons' putting themselves under
Christ as their Master and Teacher, and subjecting them

selves to the orders ofthe school. But a common faith and
moral sincerity are sufficient for this. — Therefore the Scrip
ture leads us to suppose the visible church to be properly
constituted of those who have these qualifications, though
they have not saving faith and true piety.
Answer 1 . I own, the Scripture calls toe members of
the visible church by the name of disciples ; but deny, that
it therefore follows feat toe church of which toey are mem
bers, is duly and properly constituted of those who have
not true piety. Because, if this consequence was good,
then it would equally follow, that not only the visible, but
also the invisible or mystical, church is properly constituted
of those who have not unfeigned faith and true piety. For
the members of the mystical church, as such, and to de-

Object. I.

THE CHURCH IS THE SCHOOL OF CHRIST.

461

note the special character of such, are called disciples;
Luke xiv. 26, 27, 33. and John viii. 31. and xiii. 35. and
xv. 8. This shows, that in the argument I am answering,
there is no connexion between the premises and the con
clusion. For the force of the objection consists in this,
that toe members of the visible church are called disciples
in Scripture : this is the sum total of the premises : and
if there be any connexion between the premises and the
conclusion, it must lie in the truth of this proposition ;
The church whose members are called by the name of dis
ciples, as signifying their state and quality as members of
that society, that church is properly and fitly constituted,
not only of persons truly pious, but of others that have
merely a common faith and-virtue. But this proposition,
we have seen, is not true ; and so there is no connexion
between the former and latter part of it, which are the
same with the premises and conclusion of this argument.
2. Though I do not deny, toat the visible church of
Christ may fitly be represented as a school of Christ, where
persons are trained up in the use of means, in order to
some spiritual attainments : yet it will not hence neces
sarily follow, toat this is in order to all good attainments ;
for it will not follow but that certain good attainments may
be pre-requisite, in order to a place in the school. Tbe
church of Christ is a school appointed for the training up
Christ's little children, to greater degrees of knowledge,
higher privileges, and greater serviceableness in this world,
and more meetness for the possession of their eternal in
heritance. But there is no necessity of supposing, that it
is in order to fit them to become Christ's children, or to be
introduced into his family ; any more than there is a ne
cessity of supposing, because a prince puts his children
under tutors, feat therefore it must be in order to their
being of the royal family. If it be necessary, toat there
should be a church of Christ appointed as a school of in
struction and discipline, to bring persons to all good at
tainments whatsoever, then it will follow, that there must
be a visible church constituted of scandalous and profane
persons and heretics, and all in common toat assume the
christian name, that so means may be used with them in
order to bring them to moral sincerity, and an acknow
ledgment of the christian faith.
3 . I grant, that no other qualifications are necessary in
order to being members of that school of Christ which is
his visible church, than such as are requisite in order to
their subjecting themselves to Christ us their Master and
Teacher, and subjecting themselves to the laws and orders of
his school: nevertheless I deny, that a common faith and
moral sincerity are sufficient for this; because none do
truly subject themselves to Christ as their Master, but
such as having their hearts purified by faith, are delivered
from the reigning power of sin : for we cannot subject
ourselves to obey two contrary masters at the same time.
None submit to Christ as their Teacher, but those who
truly receive him as their Prophet, to teach them by bis
word and Spirit ; giving up toemselves to his teachings,
sitting with Mary at Jesas' feet to hear his word ; and
hearkening more to his dictates, than those of their blind
and deceitful lusts, and relying on his wisdom more than
their own. The Scripture knows notoing of an ecclesiasti
cal school constituted of enemies of the cross of Christ,
and appointed to bring such to be reconciled to him and
submit to him as their Master. Neither have they who
are not truly pious persons, any true disposition of heart
to submit to the laws and orders of Christ's school, the
rules which his word prescribes to all his scholars ; such
as, to love their Master supremely ; to love one another as
brethren ; and to love their book, i. c. their Bible, more
than vain trifles and amusements, yea, above gold and
silver ; to be faithful to the interest ofthe Master and ofthe
school ; to depend on his teachings ; to cry to him for know
ledge ; above all their gettings, to get understanding, &c.
4. Whatever ways of constituting the church may to us
seem fit, proper, and reasonable, the question is, not what
constitution of Christ's church seems convenient to human
wisdom, but what constitution is actually established by
Christ's infinite wisdom. Doubtless, if men should set
their wits to work, and proceed according to what seems
good in their sight, they would greatly alter Christ's con
stitution of his church, to make it more convenient and

beautiful, and would adorn it with a vast variety of in
genious inventions ; as the church of Rome has done.
The question is, whether this school of Christ which they
talk of, made up very much of those who pretend to no
experiences or attainments but what consist with their
being enemies of Christ in their hearts, and who in reality
love the vilest lust better than him, be toat church of
Christ which in the New Testament is denominated his
city, his temple, his family, his body, &c. by which names
the visible church of Christ is there frequently called.
I acknowledge, that means of Christ's appointment, are
to be used with those who are Christ's, and do not profess
themselves any other, to change their hearts, and bring
them to be Christ's friends and disciples. Such means are
to be used with all sorts of persons, with Jews, Mahomet
ans, heathens, with nominal Christians that are heretical or
vicious, the profane, the intemperate, the unclean, and all
other enemies of Christ ; and these means to be used con
stantly, and-ijaboriously. Scandalous persons need to go
to school, to learn to be Christians, as much as other men.
And there are many persons that are not morally sincere,
who from selfish and sinister views consent ordinarily to
go to church, and so be in the way of means. And none
ought to forbid them thus going to Christ's school, that
they may be taught by him, in the ministry of the gospel.
But yet it will not follow, that such a school is the church
of Christ. Human laws can put persons, even those who
are very vicious, into the school of Christ, in that sense ;
they can oblige them constantly to be present at public
teaching, and attend on the means of grace appointed by
Christ, and dispensed in his name : but human laws
cannot join men to the church of Christ, and make them
members of his body.

OBJECT. II.
Visible saintship in the scripture sense cannot be the
same with that which has been supposed and insisted on,
because Israel of old were called God's people, when it is
certain the greater part of toem were far from having any
such visible holiness as this. Thus the ten tribes were
called God's people, Hos. iv. 6. after they had revolted
from the true worship of God, and had obstinately con
tinued in their idolatrous worship at Bethel and Dan for
about two hundred and fifty years, and were at that time,
a little before their captivity especially, in the height of
their wickedness. So the Jews are called God's people, in
Ezek. xxxvi. 20. and other places, at the time of their
captivity in Babylon, a time when most of them were
abandoned to alf kinds of the most horrid and open im
pieties, as the prophets frequently represent. Now it is
certain, that the people at that time were not called God's
people because of any visibility of true piety to the eye of
reason or of a rational charity, because most of them were
grossly wicked, and declared their sin as Sodom. And in
the same manner wherein the Jews of old were God's
people, are the members of the visible christian Gentile
church Gods people ; for they are spoken of as graffed
into the same olive-tree, from whence the former were
broken off by unbelief.
Answ. 1 . The argument proves too much, and therefore
nothing at all. Those whom I oppose in this controversy,
will in effect as much oppose themselves in it, as me.
The objection, if it has any force, equally militates against
their and my notion of visible saintship. For toose Jews,
which it is alleged were called God's people, and yet were
so notoriously, openly, and obstinately wicked, had neither
any visibility of true piety, nor yet of that moral sincerity
in the profession and duties of tbe true religion, which the
opponents themselves suppose to be requisite in order to a
proper visible holiness, and a due admission to the pri
vileges and ordinances of the church of God. None will
pretend, that these obstinate idolaters and impious wretches
had those qualifications which are now requisite in order
to an admission to the christian sacraments. And there
fore to what purpose can they bring this objection ? which,
if it proves any thing, overthrows my scheme and their
own both together, and both in an equally effectual man-

462

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part III.

ner. And not only so, but will thoroughly destroy fee
schemes of all protestants through toe world, concerning
the qualifications of the subjects of christian ordinances.
And therefore the support of what I have laid down
against toose whom I oppose in this controversy, requires
no further answer to this objection. Nevertheless, for
greater satisfaction, I would here observe further :
2. That such appellations as God's people, God's Israel,
and some other like phrases, are used and applied in Scrip
ture wito considerable diversity of intention. Thus, we
have a plain distinction between the house of Israel and
the house of Israel, in Ezek. xx. 38 — 40. By toe house
of Israel in the 39th verse is meant literally toe nation or
family of Israel ; but bv the house of Israel in the 40th
verse seems to be intended the spiritual house, toe body of
God's visible saints, that should attend toe ordinances of
his public worship in gospel-times. So likewise there is a
distinction made between the house of Israel, and Gods
disciples who should profess rand visibly adhere to his law
and testimony, in Isa. viii. 14 — 17. And though the whole
nation of toe Jews are often called God's people in those
degenerate times wherein the prophets were sent to reprove
them, yet at toe same time they are charged as falsely
calling themselves of the holy city, Isa. xlviii. 2. And
God often tells them, they are rather to be reckoned among
aliens, and as children of toe Ethiopians, or posterity of
the ancient Canaanites, on account of their grossly wicked
and scandalous behaviour. See Amos ix. 7, &c. Ezek.
xvi. 2, 3, &c. ver. 45, &c. Isa. i. 10.
It is evident that God sometimes, according to the
methods of his marvellous mercy and long-suffering
towards mankind, has a merciful respect to a degenerate
church, become exceeding corrupt, and constituted of
members who have not those qualifications which ought to
be insisted on. God continues still to have respect to
them so far as not utterly to forsake toem, or wholly to
deny his confirmation of and blessing on their administra
tions. And not being utterly renounced of God, toeir
administrations are to tie looked upon as in some respect
valid, and the society as in some sort a people or church
of God. This was fee case with toe church of Rome, at
least till the Reformation and council of Trent; for till
then we must own their baptisms and ordinations to be
valid. — The church toat the pope sits in, is called, The
temple of God, 2 Thess. ii. 4.
And wife regard to the people of Israel, it is very mani
fest, that something diverse is oftentimes intended by that
nation being God's people, from their being visible saints,
visibly holy, or having those qualifications which are re
quisite in order to a due admission to the ecclesiastical
privileges of such. That nation, that family of Israel ac
cording to the flesh, and with regard to that external and
carnal qualification, were in some sense adopted by God
to be his peculiar people, and his covenant people. This is
not only evident by what has been already observed, but
also indisputably manifest from Rom. ix. 3, 4, 5. " I
have great heaviness and continual sorrow of heart ; for I
could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my
brethren, my kinsmen, according to the flesh, who are
Israelites, to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory,
and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and fee
service of God, and the promises ; whose are the fathers ;
and of whom, as concerning the flesh, Christ came." It is to
be noted, that the privileges here mentioned are spoken of
as belonging to the Jews, not now as visible saints, not as
rofessors of the true religion, not as members of the visi
le church of Christ; but only as people of such a nation,
such a blood, such an external and camal relation to the
patriarchs their ancestors, Israelites according to the
flesh. For the apostle is speaking here of the unbeliev
ing Jews, professed unbelievers, that were out of the chris
tian church, and open visible enemies to it, and such as
had no right to the external privileges of Christ's people.
So, in Rom. xi. 28, 29. this apostle speaks of the same un
believing Jews, as in some respect an elect people, and
interested in the calling, promises, and covenants God for
merly gave to toeir forefathers, and as still beloved for
their sakes. " As conceming the gospel, they are enemies
for your sake ; but as touching the election, they are be
loved for the fathers' sakes : for the gifts and calling of

e

God are without repentance." These things are not privi
leges belonging to the Jews now as a people of the right
religion, or in the true church of visible worshippers of
God ; but as a people of such a pedigree or blood ; and
that even after the ceasing of the Mosaic administration.
But there were privileges more especially belonging to
them under the Old Testament : they were a family that
God had chosen in distinction from all others, to show
special favour to above all other nations. It was mani
festly agreeable to God's design to constitute things so
under toe Old Testament, that the means of grace and
spiritual privileges and blessings should be — though not
wholly, yet in a great measure — confined to a particular
family, much more than those privileges and blessings are
confined to any posterity or blood now under the gospel.
God purposely by these favours distinguished that nation
not only from those who were not professed worshippers
ofthe true God, but also in a great measure/rom other na
tions, by a constituted wall of separation. ' This was not
merely a wall between professors and non-professors, but
between nation and nations. God, if he pleases, may
by his sovereignty annex his blessing, and in some mea
sure fix it, for his own reasons, to a particular blood, as
well as to a particular place or spot of ground, to a cer
tain building, to a particular heap of stones, or altar
of brass, to particular garments, and other external
things. And it is evident, that he actually did affix his
blessing to that particular external family of Jacob, very
much as he did to the city Jerusalem, where he chose to
place his name, and to mount Zion where he commanded
the blessing. God did not so affix his blessing to Jerusa
lem or mount Zion, as to limit himself, either by confining
the blessing wholly to that place, never to bestow it else
where ; nor by obliging himself always to bestow it on
those that sought him there; nor yet obliging himself
never to withdraw his blessing from thence, by forsaking
his dwelling-place there, and leaving it to be a common or
profane place. But he was pleased to make it the seat of
his blessing in a peculiar manner, in great distinction from
other places. In like manner did he fix his blessing to the
progeny of Jacob. It was a family which he delighted in,
and which he blessed in a peculiar manner, and to which
in a great measure he confined the blessing; but not so as
to limit himself, or so as to oblige himself to bestow it on all
of that blood, or not to bestow it on others that were not of
that blood. He affixed his blessing both to the place and
nation, by sovereign election, Psal. cxxxii. 13 — 15. He
annexed and fixed his blessing to both by covenant.
To that nation he fixed his blessing by his covenant with
the patriarchs. Indeed the main thing, the substance and
marrow of that covenant which God made with Abraham
and the other patriarchs, was the covenant of grace, which
is continued in these days of the gospel, and extends to all
his spiritual seed, of the Gentiles as well as Jews : but yet
that covenant with the patriarchs contained other things
that were appendages to that everlasting covenant of grace ;
promises of lesser matters, subservient to the grand pro
mise of the future seed, and typical of things appertaining
to him. Such were those that annexed the blessing to the
land of Canaan, and the progeny of Isaac and Jacob. Just
so it was also as to the covenant God made with David.
2 Sam. vii. and Psal. cxxxii. If we consider that covenant
with regard to its marrow and soul, it was the covenant of
grace : but there were other subservient promises wbich
were typical of its benefits ; such were promises of bless
ings to the nation of Israel, of continuing the temporal
crown to David's posterity, and of fixing the blessing to
Jerusalem or mount Zion, as the place which he chose to
set his name there. And in this sense it was feat the very
family of Jacob were God's people by covenant, and his
chosen people ; even when they were no visible saints, when
they lived in 'idolatry, and made no profession of the true
religion. On the wnole, it is evident that the very nation of Israel,
not as visible saints, but as the progeny of Jacob according
to the flesh, were in some respect a chosen people, a people
of God, a covenant people, an holy nation ; even as Jeru
salem was a chosen city, the city of God, a holy city, and a
city that God had engaged by covenant to dwell in.
Thus a sovereign and all-wise God was pleased to ordain

Object. II.

ISRAEL WAS GOD'S PEOPLE.

463

things with respect to tlie nation of Israel. Perhaps we
may not be able to give all the reasons of such a constitu
tion'; but some of them seem to be pretty manifest ; as,
1 . The gi'eat and main end of separating one particular
nation from all others, as God did the nation of Israel, was
to prepare the way for the coming of the Messiah. God's
covenant with Abraham and the other patriarchs implied
that the Messiah should be of their blood, or their seed ac
cording to the flesh. And therefore it was requisite that
their progeny according to the flesh should be fenced in by a
wall of separation, and made God's people. If the Messiah
had been born of some of the professors of Abraham's re
ligion, but of some other nation, that religion being propa
gated from nation to nation, as it is now under the gospel,
it would not have answered the covenant with Abraham,
for the Messiah to have been bom of Abraham's seed only
in this sense. The Messiah being by covenant so related
to Jacob's progeny according to the flesh, God was pleased,
agreeable to the nature of such a covenant, to show great
respect to that people on account of that external relation.
Therefore the apostle mentions it as one great privilege,
that of them according to the flesh Christ came, Rom. ix. 5.
As the introducing of the Messiah and his salvation and
kingdom was the special design of all God's dealings and
peculiar dispensations towards that people, the natural re
sult of this was, that great account should be made of their
being of that nation, in God's covenant dealings with them.
2. That nation was a typical nation. There was then
literally a land, which was a type of heaven, the true
dwelling-place of God ; and an external city, which was a
type of the spiritual city of God ; an external temple of
God, which was a type of his spiritual temple. So there
was an external people and family of God, by carnal genera
tion, which was a type of his spiritual progeny. And the
covenant by which they were made a people of God, was
a type of the covenant of grace ; and so is sometimes re
presented as a marriage-covenant. God, agreeably to the
nature of that dispensation, showed a great regard to ex
ternal and carnal things in those days, as types of spi
ritual things. What a great regard God did show then to
external qualifications for privileges and services, appears
in this, that there is ten times so much said in the books
of Moses about such qualifications in the institutions of
the passover and tabernacle services, as about any moral
qualifications whatsoever. And so much were such typical
qualifications insisted on, that even by the law of Moses,
the congregation of the Lord, or church of visible worship
pers of God, and the number of public professors of the
true religion who were visible saints, were not the same.
Some were of the latter, that were not of the former ; as
the eunuchs, who were excluded the congregation, though
never so externally religious, yea truly pious ; and so also
bastards, &c.
3. It was the sovereign pleasure of God to choose the
posterity of Jacob according to the flesh, to reserve them for
special favours to the end of time. And therefore they are
still kept a distinct nation, being still reserved for distin
guishing mercy in the latter day, when they shall be re
stored to the church of God. God is pleased in this way
to testify his regard to their holy ancestors, and his regard
to their external relation to Christ. Therefore the apostle
still speaks of them as an elect nation, and beloved for the
fathers' sakes, even after they were broken off from the
good olive by unbelief. God's covenant with Abraham is
in some sense in force with respect to that people, and
reaches them even to this day; and yet surely they are not
God's covenant people, in the sense that visible Christians
are. See Lev. xxvi. 42.
If it be said, It was often foretold by the prophets, that
in gospel-days other nations should be the people of God,
as well as the rea.iore of the Jews : and when Christ sent
forth his apostles, he bid them go and disciple all nations.
I answer ; By a common, figure of speech the prevailing
part of a nation are called the nation, and what is done to
them is said to be done to the nation, and what is done by
them is said to be done by that nation. And it is to be
hoped, that the time is coming when the prevailing part of
many nations, yea of every nation under heaven, will be
regularly brought into the visible church of Christ. If by
nations in these prophecies we understand any other than

the prevailing part, and it be insisted on feat we must un
derstand it of all the people belonging to those nations ;
there never yet has been any nation in this sense regularly
brought into the visible church of Christ, even according
to the scheme of those whom I oppose. For there never yet
has been a whole nation outwardly moral. And besides,
what Mr. Blake says in his Treatise of the Covenant, page
238. may be aoplied here, and serve as an answer to this
objection : " The prophecies of the Old Testament (says
he) of the glory of the New-Testament times, are in Old-
Testament phrases, by way of allusion to the worship of
those times, set forth to us." In Rev. xxi. 24. nations are
spoken of, as having an interest in the New Jerusalem,
which yet is represented as perfectly pure, without the
least degree of pollution and defilement, ver. 27. And as
for the command to the apostles, to disciple all nations, it
was a direction to them as to what they should attempt,
not a prediction of what they should bring to pass in their
day. For they never brought one-half of any one nation
into the visible christian church, nor any at all in one-half
of the nations in the world, it is very probable.
If it should be further objected, that it is an evidence
that Gentile Christians are visible saints, according to the
New-Testament notion of visible saintship, in the very same
manner as the whole Jewish nation were till they were
broken off by toeir obstinate rejection of the Messiah ; that
the Gentile Christians are represented as being grafted
into the same olive, from whence the Jews were broken off
by unbelief, Rom. xi. 17, &c.
I would inquire, What any one can intend by this ob
jection ? Whether it be this, viz. That we ought to insist
on no higher or better qualifications, in admitting persons
as members ofthe christian church, and to all its privileges,
than the whole Jewish nation in Christ's time possessed,
till they had obstinately persisted in their rejection of him?
If this is reor intended, the objection is notoing to the pur
pose : or, if this be intended, neither then is it to the pur
pose of those with whom I have especially to do in this
controversy, who hold orthodoxy, knowledge of the funda
mental doctrines of religion, moral sincerity, and a good
conversation, to be qualifications, which ought to be insist
ed on, in order to a visible church-state. For a very great
part of those Jews were destitute of these qualifications ;
many of them were Sadducees, who denied a future state;
others of them Herodians, who were occasional conformists
with the Romans in their idolatries ; the prevailing sect
among them were Pharisees, who openly professed the
false doctrine of justification by the works of the law and
external privileges, toat leaven of the Pharisees, which
Christ warns his disciples to beware of. Many of them
were scandalously ignorant, for their teachers had taken
away the key of knowledge. Multitudes were grossly
vicious, for it was a generation in which all manner of sin
and wickedness prevailed.
I think toat text in Rom. xi. can be understood no other
wise, in any consistence with plain fact, than that the Gen
tile Christians succeeded the Jews, who had been, either in
themselves or ancestors, the children of Abraham, with re
spect to a visible interest in the covenant of grace, until
they were broken off from the church, and ceased to be
visible saints by their open and obstinate unbelief. In
deed their ancestors had all been thus broken off from fee
church of visible saints ; for every branch or family of the
stock of Jacob had been in the church of visible saints, and
each branch withered and failed through unbelief. This
was the highest and most important sense, in which any of
the Jews were externally the children of Abraham, and
implied the greatest privileges. But there was another
sense, in which the whole nation, including even those of
them who were no visible saints, were his children, which
(as has been shown) implied great privileges, wherein chris
tian Gentiles do not succeed them, though they have ad
ditional ecclesiastical privileges, vastly beyond the Jews.
Whether I have succeeded, in rightly explaining these
matters, or no, yet my failing in it is of no great importance
with regard to the strength of the objection, that occasion
ed my attempting it ; which was, that scandalously wicked
men among the Jews are called God's people, &c. The ob
jection, as I observed, is as much against the scheme of
those whom I oppose, as against my scheme ; and there-

464

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part III.

fore it as much concerns them, to find out some expla
nation of the matter, that shall show something else is
intended by it, than their having the qualifications of visible
saints, as it does me ; and a failing in such an attempt as
much affects and hurts their cause, as it does mine.
OBJECT. III.
' Those in Israel, who made no profession of piety of
heart, did according to divine institution partake of the
passover ; a Jewish sacrament, representing the same things,
and a seal of the very same covenant of grace, with the
Lords supper ; and particularly, it would be unreasonable
to suppose, that all made a profession of godliness whom
God commanded to keep that first passover in Egypt, which
the whole congregation were required to keep, and there is
no shadow of any such thing as all first making a solemn
public profession of those things wherein true piety con
sists : and so the people in general partook of the passover,
from generation to generation ; but it would be improbable
to suppose, that they all professed a supreme regard to God
in their hearts.
Answ. 1 . The affair of the Israelites' participation of the
passover, and particularly that first passover in Egypt, is
attended with altogether as much difficulty in regard to the
qualifications which toe objectors feemselves suppose re
quisite in communicants at the Lord's table, as with re
gard to those which I insist upon ; and if there be any
argument in the case, it is fully as strong an argument
against their scheme, as mine.
One thing they insist upon as a requisite qualification
for the Lord's supper, is a public profession of religion as
to the essential doctrines of it. But there is no more pub
lic profession of this kind, preceding that passover in
Egypt, than of a profession of godliness. Here, not to in
sist on the great doctrines of the fall of man, of our undone
state by nature, of toe Trinity, of our dependence on the
free grace of God for justification, &c. let us take only
those two doctrines of a future state of rewards and punish
ments, and the doctrine of the Messiah to come, that
Messiah who was represented in the passover. Is there
any more appearance, in sacred story, of the people
making a public profession in Egypt of these doctrines,
before toey partook of the passover, than of their making
profession of the love of God ? And is there any more
probability of the former, toan of the latter? Another
thing which they on the other side suppose necessary to a
due attendance on the Lord's supper, is, that when any
have openly been guilty of gross sins, they should before
they come to this sacrament, openly confess and humble
themselves for their faults. Now it is evident by many
scriptures, that a great part of the children of Israel in
Egypt had been guilty of joining with the Egyptians in
worshipping toeir false gods, and had lived m idolatry.
But the history in Exodus gives us no account of any
public solemn confession of, or humiliation, for this great
sin, before they came to toe passover. Mr. Stoddard
observes, (Appeal, p. 58, 59.) that there was in the church
of Israel a way appointed by God for the removal of
scandals ; men being required in that case to offer up their
sacrifices, attended wito confession and visible signs of
repentance. But where do we read of the people offering
up sacrifices in Egypt, attended with confession, for
removing the scandal of that most heinous sin of idolatry
they had lived in ? Or is toere any more probability of
their publicly professing their repentance and humiliation
for their sin, before toeir celebrating the passover, than of
their publicly professing to love God above all ? Another
thing which they suppose to be requisite in order to admis
sion to toe Lord's table, and about which they would have
a particular care to be taken, is, that every person admitted
give evidence of a competent knowledge in the doctrines of
religion, and none be allowed to partake who are grossly
ignorant. Now there is no more appearance of this with
regard to the congregation in Egypt, toan of a profession
of godliness ; and it is as difficult to suppose it. There is
abundant reason to suppose, that vast numbers in that
nation, consisting of more than a million of adult persons,
had been brought up in a great degree of ignorance, amidst

their slavery in Egypt, where the people seem to have
almost forgotten the true God and toe true religion. And
though pains had been taken by Moses, now for a short
season, to instruct the people better ; yet it must be con
sidered, it is a very great work, to take a whole nation
under such degrees of ignorance and prejudice, and bring
every one of toem to a competent degree of knowledge in
religion ; and a greater work still for Moses both thus to
instruct toem, and also by examination or otherwise, to
come to a just satisfaction, toat all had indeed attained to
such knowledge.
Mr. Stoddard insists, that if grace be requisite in the
Lord's supper, it would have been as much so in the pass-
over, inasmuch as the chief thing which the passover (as
well as the Lord's supper) represents, is Christ's suffer
ings. But if, on this account, the same qualifications are
requisite in bofe ordinances, then it would be as requisite
that fee partakers should have knowledge to discern the
Lord's body, (in Mr. Stoddard's sense of 1 Cor. xi. 29.) in
the passover, as in toe Lord's supper. But this certainly
is as difficult to suppose, as that they professed godliness.
For how does it appear, that the people in general who
partook of tbe passover — knew toat it signified the death
of the Messiah, and the way in which he should make
atonement for sin by his blood ? Does it look very likely
that they sbould know this, when Christ's own disciples
had not knowledge thus to discern the Lord's body in the
passover, of wbich they partook from year to year with
their Master ? Can it be supposed, they actually knew
Christ's death and the design of it to be thereby signified,
when they did not so much as realize the fact itself, that
Christ was to die, at least not till the year before the last
passover? Besides, how unreasonable would it be, to
suppose, that the Jews understood what was signified,
pertaining to Christ and salvation by him, in all those
many kinds of sacrifices, which they attended and partook
of, and all the vast variety of ceremonies belonging to
them ; all which sacrifices were sacramental representa
tions of Christ's death, as well as toe sacrifice of the
passover 1 The apostle tells us, that all these things had a
shadow of good things to come, the things concerning
Christ ; and yet there are many of them, which toe church
of Christ to this day does not understand ; though we
are under a thousand times greater advantage to understand
them, than they were. For we have toe New Testament,
wherein God uses great plainness of speech, to guide' us,
and live in days wherein the vail which Moses put over
his face is taken away in Christ, and the vail of the tem
ple rent, and have the substance and antitype plainly
exbibited, and so have opportunity to compare these with
these shadows.
If it be objected, as a difficulty that lies against our
supposing a profession of godliness requisite to a partici
pation of the passover, that they who were uncircumcised
were expressly forbidden to partake, and if conversion was
as important and a more important qualification than cir
cumcision, why were not the unregenerate as expressly
forbidden ? I answer ; Why were not scandalous sinners
as expressly forbidden ? And why was not moral sincerity
as expressly required as circumcision ?
If it be objected, that they were all expressly and
strictly required to keep toe passover ; but if grace was
requisite, and God knew that many of the partakers
would have no grace, why would he give such universal
orders ?
I answer ; When God gave those commands, he knew
that the commands, in all their strictness, would reach
many persons who in the time of the passover would be
without so much as moral sincerity in religion. Every
man in the nation, from toe first institution till the death
of Christ, were all (excepting such as were ceremonially
unclean, or on a journey) strictly required to keep the
feast of passover; and yet God knew that multitudes
would be without the qualification of moral seriousness in
religion. It would be very unreasonable to suppose, that
every single person in toe nation was morally serious, even
in the very best time, or that ever there was sucb a happy
day wito any nation under heaven, wherein all were
morally sincere in religion. How much then was it
otherwise many times with that nation, which was so prone

Object. III.

THE JEWS PARTOOK OF THE PASSOVER.

465

to corruption, and so often generally involved in gross
wickedness ! But the strict command of God to keep the
passover reached the morally insincere, as well as others ;
they are no where excepted, any more than the uncon
verted. And as to any general commands of God's word,
these no more required men to turn from a state of moral
insincerity before they came to the passover, than they
required them to turn from a graceless state.
But further, I reply, that God required them all to keep
the passover, no more strictly than he required them all to
love the Lord toeir God with toeir whole heart. And if
God might strictly command this, he might also strictly
command them to keep that ordinance wherein they were
especially to profess it, and seal their profession of it.
That evil generation were not expressly forbidden to keep
the passover in succeeding years, for the whole forty years
during which they went on provoking God, very often by
gross sin and open rebellion ; but still the express and
strict commands for the whole congregation to keep the
passover reached them, nor were they released from their
obligation. If it be said, that we must suppose multitudes in Israel
attended toe passover, from age to age, without such a
visibility of piety as I have insisted on ; and yet we do not
find feeir attending this ordinance charged on them as a
sin, in Scripture : I answer ; We must also suppose that
multitudes in Israel, from age to age, attended the pass-
over, who lived in moral insincerity, yea and scandalous
wickedness. For the people in general very often notori
ously corrupted themselves, and declined to ways of open
and great transgression ; and yet toere is reason to think,
that in these times of corruption, for the most part, they
held circumcision and the passover ; and we do not find
their attending on these ordinances .under such circum
stances, any more expressly charged on them as a sin, than
their coming without piety of heart. The ten tribes con
tinued constantly in idolatry for about 250 years, and
there is a ground to suppose, feat in the mean time they ordi
narily kept up circumcision and the passover. For though
they worshipped God by images, yet they maintained most
of fee ceremonial observances of the law of Moses, called
the manner of the God of the land, which their priests
taught the Samaritans who were settled in their stead,
2 Kings xvii. 26, 27. Nevertheless we do not find Elijah,
Elisha, or other prophets, reproving them for attending
these ordinances without the required moral qualifications.
Indeed there are some things in the writings of the prophets,
which may be interpreted as a reproof of this ; but no
more as a reproof of this, than of attending God's ordi
nances without a gracious sincerity and true piety of heart
and life.
How many seasons were there, wherein the people in
general fell into and lived in idolatry, that scandal of
scandals, in the times of the judges, and of the kings both
in Judah and Israel ! But still amidst all this wickedness,
they continued to attend the sacrament of circumcision.
We have every whit as much evidence of it, as that they
attended the passover without a profession of godliness.
We have no account of their ever leaving it off at such
seasons, nor any hint of its being renewed (as a thing which
had ceased) when they came to reform. Though we have
so full an account of the particulars of Josiah's reformation,
after the long and scandalous reign of Manasseh, there is
no hint of any reviving of circumcision, or returning to it
after a cessation. And where have we an account of the
people being once reproved for attending this holy sacra
ment while thus involved in scandalous sin, in all the Old
Testament ? And where is this once charged on them as
a sin, any more than in the case of unconverted persons
attending the sacrament of the passover?*
Answ. 2. Whatever was the case with respect to the
qualifications for the sacraments of the Old-Testament dis
pensation, I humbly conceive it is nothing to the purpose
in the present argument, nor needful to determine us with
respect to the qualifications for the sacraments of the chris
tian dispensation, which is a matter of such plain fact in
* Let the reader here take notice of what is observed in the conclusion
of my answer to the objection from tbe instance of Judas.
t On this " precise agreement and difference," Dr. Owen has written
VOL. I. 2 H

the New Testament. Far am I from thinking the Old Tes
tament to be like an old almanack out of use; nay, I
think it is evident from toe New Testament, that some things
which had their first institution under the Old Testament,
are continued under the New ; for instance, the acceptance
of the infant-seed of believers as children of the covenant
with their parents ; and probably some things belonging
to the order and discipline of christian churches, had their
first beginning in the Jewish synagogue. But yet all allow
that the Old-Testament dispensation is out of date, with
its ordinances; and I think, in a matter pertaining to the
constitution and order of the New-Testament church — a
matter of fact, wherein the New Testament itself is express,
full, and abundant — to have recourse to the Mosaic dis
pensation for rules or precedents to determine our judg
ment, is quite needless, and out of reason. There is per
haps no part of divinity attended with so much intricacy,
and wherein orthodox divines do so much differ, as the
stating of the precise agreement and difference between the
two dispensations of Moses and of Christ, f And pro
bably fee reason why God has left it so intricate, is, be
cause our understanding the ancient dispensation, and
God's design in it, is not of so great importance, nor does
it so nearly concern us. Since God uses great plainness
of speech in the New Testament, which is as it were the
charter and municipal law of the christian church, what
need we run back to toe ceremonial and typical institutions
of an antiquated dispensation, wherein God's declared de
sign was, to deliver divine things in comparative obscurity,
hid under a veil, and involved in clouds ?
We have no more occasion for going to search among
the t.vpes, dark revelations, and carnal ordinances of the
Old Testament, to find out whether this matter of fact
concerning the constitution and order of the New-Testa
ment church be true, than we have occasion for going there
to find out whether any other matter of fact, of which we
have an account in the New Testament, be true ; as par
ticularly, whether there were such officers in the primitive
church as bishops and deacons, whether miraculous gifts of
the Spirit were common in the apostles' days, whether the
believing Gentiles were received into the primitive chris
tian church, and the like.
Answ. 3. I think, nothing can be alleged from the
Holy Scripture, sufficient to prove a profession of godliness
to be not a qualification requisite in order to a due and re
gular participation of the passover. .
Although none of the requisite moral qualifications for
this Jewish sacrament, are near so clearly made known in
the Old Testament, as the qualifications for the christian
sacraments are in the New; and although a supposed
visibility of either moral sincerity or sanctifying grace, is
involved in some obscurity and difficulty ; yet I would
humbly offer what appears to me to be the truth concern
ing that matter, in the things that follow.
(1.) Although the people in Egypt before the first pass-
over, probably made no explicit public profession at all,
either of their humiliation for their former idolatiy or of
present devotedness of heart to God; it being before any
particular institution of an express public profession, either
of godliness, or repentance in case of scandal : yet I
think, there was some sort of public manifestation, or im
plicit profession of both. — Probably in Egypt they im
plicitly professed the same things, which they afterwards
professed more expressly and solemnly in the wilderness.
The Israelites in Egypt had very much to affect their
hearts, before the last plague, in the great things that God
bad done for them ; especially in some of the latter plagues,
wherein they were so remarkably distinguished from the
Egyptians. They seem now to be brought to a tender
frame, and a disposition to show much respect to God ;
(see Exod. xii. 27.) and were probably now very forward
to profess themselves devoted to him, and true penitents.
(2.) After the institution of an explicit public profession
of devotedness to God, or (which is the same thing) of
true piety of heart, this was wont to be required in order
to a partaking of the passover and other sacrifices and sa-
with admirable clearness in his Exposition to the Epistle to the Hebrews.
and the prefixed exercitation. — W.

466

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part III.

craments that adult persons were admitted to. Accordingly
all the adult persons that were circumcised at Gilgal, had
made this profession a little before on the plains of Moab.
Not that all of them were truly- gracious ; but seeing they
all had a profession and visibility, Christ in his dealings
with his church as to external things, acted not as the
Searcher of hearts, but as the Head of the visible church,
accommodating himself to the present state of mankind ;
and therefore he represents himself in Scripture as trusting
his people's profession ; as I formerly observed.
(3.) In degenerate times in Israel, both priests and
people were very lax with respect to covenanting with
God, and professing devotedness to him ; and these pro
fessions were used, as public professions commonly are
still in corrupt times, merely as matters of form and cere
mony, at least by great multitudes.
(4.) Such was the nature of the Levitical dispensation,
that it had in no measure so great a tendency to preclude
and prevent hypocritical professions, as the New-Testament
dispensation ; particularly, on account ofthe vastly greater
darkness of it. For the covenant of grace was not then so
fully revealed, and consequently the nature of the con
ditions of that covenant was not then so well known.
There was then a far more obscure revelation of those great
duties of repentance towards God and faith in the Mediator,
and of those things wherein true holiness consists, and
wherein it is distinguished from other things. Persons
then had not equal advantage to know their own hearts,
while viewing themselves in this comparatively dim light
of Moses's law, as now they have in the clear sun-shine of
the gospel. In that state of the minority of the church,
the nature of true piety, as consisting in fee Spirit of adop
tion, or ingenuous filial love to God, and as distinguished
from a spirit of bondage, servile fear, and self-love, was
not so clearly made known. The Israelites were therefore
the more ready to mistake for true piety, that moral seri
ousness and those warm affections and resolutions that
resulted from that spirit of bondage, which showed itself
in Israel remarkably at mouDt Sinai ; and to which
through all the Old-Testament times, they were especially
incident. (5.) God was pleased in a great measure to suffer
(though he did not properly allow) a laxness among the
people, with regard to the visibility of holiness, and toe
moral qualifications requisite to an attendance on their
sacraments. This he also did in many other cases of great
irregularity, under that dark, imperfect, and comparatively
camal dispensation ; such as polygamy, putting away
their wives at pleasure, the revenging of blood, killing the
man-slayer, &c. And he winked at their worshipping in
high places in Solomon's time, (1 Kings iii. 4, 5.) the neg
lect of keeping the feast of tabernacles according to the
law, from Joshua's time till after the captivity, (Neh. viii.
17.) and the neglect of the synagogue- worship, or toe
public service of God in particular congregations, till after
the captivity,** though the light of nature, together wife
the general rules of the law of Moses, did sufficiently
teach and require it.
(6.) It seems to be foretold in the prophecies of toe
Old Testament, toat there would be a great alteration in
this respect, in toe days ofthe gospel ; that under toe new
dispensation there should be far greater purity in the
church. Thus, in toe forementioned place in Ezekiel it
is foretold, that " those who are [visibly] uncircumcised in
heart, should _ o more enter into God's sanctuary." Again,
Ezek. xx. 37, 38. " And I will cause you to pass under
the rod, and will bring you into the bond of the covenant ;
and I will purge out from among you the rebels, and them
that transgress against me." It seems to be a prophecy of
the greater purity of toose who are visibly ire covenant with
God. Isa. iv. 3. " And it shall come to pass toat he feat
is left in Zion, and he that remaineto in Jerusalem, shall
be called holy, even every one that is written among the
living [i. e. has a name to live, or is enrolled among the
saints] in Jerusalem." Isa. Iii. 1. " Put on toy beautiful
garments, O Jerusalem, toe holy city ; from henceforth
there shall no more come to thee the uncircumcised and
the unclean." Zech. xiv. 21. "And in that day, there
* Prid. Connect. Part I. p. 354—536. and 555. 556. 9th Edit The word
translated synagogues, Psal. Ixxiv. S. signifies assemblies ; and is sup-

shall be no more toe Canaanite in the house of the
Lord." (7.) This is just such an alteration as might reasonably
be expected from what we are taught of the whole nature
of the two dispensations. As the one had carnal ordi
nances, (so they are called Heb. ix. 10.) the other a spiri
tual service ; (John iv. 24.) the one an earthly Canaan,
the otoer a heavenly ; the one an external Jerusalem, the
other a spiritual; fee one an earthly high priest, toe other
a heavenly ; the one a worldly sanctuary, toe other a spi
ritual ; fee one a bodily and temporal redemption, (which
is all toat they generally discerned or understood in the
passover,) the other a spiritual and eternal. And agree
ably to these things, it was so ordered in providence, that
Israel, the congregation that should enter this worldly
sanctuary, and attend these carnal ordinances, should be
mucb more a worldly, carnal congregation, than the New-
Testament congregation. One reason of such a difference
seems to be this, viz. That the Messiah might have the
honour of introducing a state of greater purity and spiritual
glory. Hence God is said to find fault wife toat ancient
dispensation of toe covenant, Heb. viii. 7, 8. And the
time of introducing the new dispensation is called the
time of reformation, Heb. ix. 10. And one thing, wherein
the amendment of what God found fault with in toe for
mer dispensation should consist, the apostle intimates, is
the greater purity and spirituality of 'the church, Heb. viii.
7, 8, 11.

OBJECT. IV.
It is not reasonable to suppose, that the multitudes
which John toe Baptist baptized, made a profession of
saving grace, or had any such visibility of true piety, as
has been insisted on.
Answ. Those whom John baptized, came to him confess
ing their sins, making a profession of some kind of repent
ance ; and it is not reasonable to suppose, toe repentance
they professed was specifically or in kind diverse, from toat
which he had instructed them in, and called toem to,
which is called repentance for the remission of sins ; and
toat is saving repentance. John's baptism is called the
baptism of repentance for the remission of sim : I know
not how such a phrase can be reasonably understood any
otherwise, than so as to imply, that his baptism was some
exhibition of toat repentance, and a seal of the profession
of it. Baptism is a seal of some sort of religious profes
sion, in adult persons : but toe very name of John^ bap
tism shows, toat it was a seal of a profession of repentance
for the remission of sins. It is said, Luke iii. 3. " John
preached the baptism of repentance for the remission
of sins." What can be understood by this, but his preach
ing that men should now speedily turn to God, by true
repentance and faith in the promised Saviour, and come
and confess their sins, and openly declare this repentance
towards God, and faith in toe Lamb of God, and feat
they should confirm and seal this their profession by bap
tism, as well as therein receive the seal of God's willing
ness to remit the sins of such as had this faith and
repentance. Accordingly, we are told, the people came and
were baptized of him, confessing their sins, manifesting and
professing that sort of repentance and faith which he
preached. They had no notion of any other sort, of repent
ance put into their heads, that toey could suppose John
called toem to profess in baptism, but this accompanied
with faith in the Lamb whom he called them to behold ;
for he preached no other to them. The people that John
baptized, professed both repentance for the remission of
sins, and also faith in the Messiah ; as is evident by Acts
xix. 4, 5. "John verily baptized with the baptism of re
pentance, saying unto the people, that they should be
lieve on him that should come after him ;" i. e. on Christ
Jesns. " When they heard this [John's preaching] they
were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus."
Tf it be objected here, that we are told, Matt. iii. 5, 6.
" There went out to him Jerusalem, and all Judea, and
posed by the generality of learned men to relate to another sort of assem
blies.

Object. V.

MANY ARE CALLED, BUT FEW ARE CHOSEN.

'467

all the region round about Jordan, and were baptized of
him in Jordan, confessing their sins ;" and that it is not
to be imagined, all these made any credible profession
of saving repentance and faith : I answer ; No more is
to be understood by these expressions, according to the
phraseology of the Scripture, than that there was a very
great resort of people from these places to John. Nor is
any more to be understood by the like term of universality
in John iii. 26. " They came to John, and said unto
him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to
whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeto, and
all men come to him;" that is, there was a great re
sort to him from all quarters. It is in nowise unreasonable
to suppose, there was indeed a very great number of
Eeople that came to John from the places mentioned, who
eing exceedingly moved by his preaching, in toat time of
extraordinary outpouring of the Spirit, made profession of
the faith and repentance which John preached. Doubt
less there were many more professors than real converts :
but still in toe great resort to John, there were many of
the latter character ; as we may infer from the prophecy :
as appears by Luke, i. 16, 17. " And many of the children
of Israel shall he turn to the Lord their God. And he
shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias, to
turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and of the
disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready a
people prepared for the Lord." And from that account
of fact in Mark xi. 12. " From the days of John toe Bap
tist until now, the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence,
and the violent take it Toy force." And in Luke xvi. 16.
" The law and the prophets were until John : since toat
time the kingdom of God is preached, and every man
presseth into it." Here the expression is no less universal,
than that which is objected in Matt. iii. 5, 6. As to those
wicked Pharisees, that so much opposed Christ, some of
them I suppose had been baptized by John, and then had
a great show of repentance and faith ; but they afterwards
apostatized, and were much worse than ever before : there
fore Christ speaks of them as being like a house from which
the unclean spirit is visibly turned out for a white, and is
left empty, swept, and gar-rushed, but afterward is repossess
ed, and has many devils instead of one, Luke xi. 24, &c.
Yet as to the greater part of these Pharisees, they were not
baptized by John ; as appears by Luke vii. 29, 30.
If it be further objected, that John in baptizing such
multitudes could not have time to be sufficiently informed
of those he baptized, whether their profession of godliness
was credible, or no : I answer ; That we are not particu
larly informed of the circumstances of his teaching, and of
the assistance he was favoured with, and the means he had
of information, concerning those whom he baptized : but
we may be sure of one thing, viz. He had as much op
portunity to inquire into the credibility of their profession,
as he had to inquire into their doctrinal knowledge and
moral character ; which my opponents suppose to be ne
cessary, as well as I : and this is enough to silence the
present objection.

OBJECT. V.
Christ says, Matt. xx. 16. and again, chap. xxii. 14. that
many arc called, but few are chosen. By which it is evi
dent, that there are many who belong to the visible church,
and yet but few real and true saints ; and that it is ordi
narily thus, even under the New Testament, and in days
of gospel-light : and therefore that visibility of saintship,
whereby persons are visible saints in a scripture sense,
cannot imply an apparent probability of their being reai
saints, or truly gracious persons.
Answ. In these texts, by those that are called, are not
meant those who are visible saints, and have the requisite
qualifications for christian sacraments ; but all such as
have the external call of the word of God, and have its offers
and invitations made to them. And it is undoubtedly
true, and has been matter of fact, for the most part, that of
those called in this sense, many have been but only called,
and never truly obedient to the call, few have been true
saints. So it was in the Jewish nation, to which the para-
2 H 2

ble in the twentieth of Matthew has a special respect ; in
general they had the external cull of God's word, and at
tended many religious duties, in hopes of God's favour
and reward, which is called labouring in God's vineyard;
and yet but few of them eventually obtained salvation;
nay, great multitudes of those who were called in this sense,
were scandalous persons, and gross hypocrites. The Pha
risees and Sadducees were called, and they laboured in the
vineyard, in the sense of the parable ; for which they ex
pected great rewards, above the Gentile converts or pro
selytes ; wherefore their eye was evil towards them, and
they could not bear that they should be made equal to
them. But still these Pharisees and Sadducees had not
generally the intellectual and moral qualifications, that my
opponents suppose requisite for christian sacraments ;
being generally scandalous persons, denying some funda
mental principles of religion, and explaining away some of
its most important precepts. Thus, many in Christendom
are called, by the outward call of God's word, and yet few
of them are in a state of salvation : but not all who sit
under the sound of the gospel, and hear its invitations,
are fit to come to sacraments.
That by those who are called, in this saying of our Sa
viour, is meant those that have the gospel-offer, and not
those who belong to the society of visible saints, is evident
beyond all dispute, in Matt. xxii. 14. By the many that
are called, are plainly intended the many that are invited to
the wedding. In the foregoing parable, we have an ac
count of those who from time to time were bidden, or
called, (for the word is the same in the original,) ver.
3. " And sent forth his servants to call them that were
CALLED, [saXeaat t.c KeitXu/ievar,] and they would not
come." This has respect to the Jews, who refused not
only savingly to come to Christ, but refused so much as
to come into the visible church of Christ. Ver. 4. " Again
he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them which are
bidden, [or called,] Behold I have prepared my din
ner," &c. Ver. 8. " They which were bidden [or call
ed] were not worthy," Ver. 9. " Go ye therefore into the
high-ways, and as many as ye shall find, bid [or call,
Ka\6__Te] to the marriage," or nuptial banquet ; represent
ing the preaching of the gospel to the Gentiles ; who upon
it came into the king's house, i. e. the visible church, and
among them one that had not a wedding-garment, who was
bound hand and foot, and cast out when the king came :
and then, at the conclusion, Christ adds this remark, ver.
14. " For many are called or bidden [xTm™.,] but
few are chosen ;" which must have reference, not only to
the man last mentioned, who came into the wedding-house,
the christian visible church, without a wedding-garment,
but to those also mentioned before, who were called, but
would not so much as come into the king's house, or join to
the visible christian church. To suppose this saying to
have reference only to that one man who came without a
wedding-garment, (representing one that comes into the
visible church, but is not a true saint,) would be to make
the introduction of this aphorism, and its connexion with
what went before, very strange and unintelligible, thus,
" Multitudes came into the king's house, who were called,
and the house was full of guests ; but among them was
found one man who was not chosen ; for many are called,
but few are chosen."

OBJECT. VI.
When the servants of the householder, in the parable of
the wheat and tares (Matt, xiii.) unexpectedly found tares
among the wheat, they said to their master, " Wilt thou
that we go and gather them up? But he said, Nay,
lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat
with them ; let both grow together until the harvest."
Which shows the mind of Christ, that we ought not to
make a distinction between true saints and others in this
world, or aim at admitting true saints only into the visible
church, but ought to let both he together in the church
till the day of judgment.
Answ. 1. These things have no reference to introduc
tion into the field, or admission into the visible church, as

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though no care nor measures should be taken to prevent
tares being sown ; or as though the servants who had the
charge of the field, would have done well to have taken
tares, appearing to be such, and planted them in the field
amongst the wheat : no, instead of this, the parable plain
ly implies the contrary. But the words cited have wholly
respect to a casting out and purging the field, after
the tares had been introduced unawares, and contrary to
design, through men's infirmity and Satan's procurement.
Concerning purging the tares out of the field, or casting
men out of the church, there is no difference between me
and those whom I oppose in the present controversy : and
therefore it is impossible there should be any objection
from that which Christ says here concerning this matter
against me, but what is as much of an objection against
than; for we both hold the same thing. It is agreed on
all hands, that adult persons, actually admitted to com
munion in the visible church, however they may behave
themselves so as to bring their spiritual state into suspicion,
yet ought not to be cast out, unless they are obstinate in
heresy or scandal ; lest, while we go about to root out the
tares, we should root out the wheat also. And it is also
agreed on all hands, that when those represented under
the name of tares bring forth such evil fruit, such scandal
ous and obstinate wickedness, as is plainly and visibly
inconsistent with the being of true grace, they ought to be
cast out. And therefore it is impossible that this objection
should be any thing to the purpose.
Answ. 2. I think this parable, instead of being a just
objection against the doctrine I maintain, is on the con
trary a clear evidence/.?' it.
For (1 .) the parable shows plainly, that if any are in
troduced into the field of the householder, or church of
Christ, who prove to be not wheat, (i. e. not true saints,)
they are brought in unawares, or contrary to design. If
tares are as properly to be sown in the field, as is the wheat,
which must be the "case if the Lord's supper be a convert
ing ordinance ; then surely no care ought to be taken to
introduce wheat only, and no respect ought to be had more
to the qualities of wheat in sowing the field, than the quali
ties of tares; nor is there any more impropriety in the
tares having a place there, than the wheat. But this surely
is altogether inconsistent with the scope of the parable.
(2.) This parable plainly shows, toat those who are in
the visible church, have at first a visibility, or appearance
to human sight of true grace, or ofthe nature of true saints.
For it is observed, tares have this property, that when they
first appear, and till the products of the field arrive to
some maturity, they have such a resemblance of wheat,
that it is next to impossible to distinguish toem.

OBJECT. VII.
Christ himself administered the Lord's supper to Judas,
whom he knew at the same time to be graceless ; which is a
full evidence, that grace is not in itself a requisite qualifica
tion in order to cpming to the Lord's supper ; and if it be
not requisite in itself, a profession of it cannot be requisite.
Answ. 1 . It is to me apparent, that Judas was not
present at toe administration of the Lord's supper. It is
true, he was present at the passover, and dipped with
Christ in the paschal dish. The three former evangelist-
do differ in the order of the account they give of this dip
ping in the dish. — Luke gives an account of it after his ac
count of the Lord's supper, Luke xxii. 21 . But Matthew
and Mark both give an account of it before. (Matt. xxvi.
23. Mark xiv. 20.) And the like might be shown in
other instances of these three evangelists differing one
from another in the order of their narratives ; one places
those things in his history after others, which another
places first. These sacred historians do not undertake to
declare precisely the date of every incident, but regard
more the truth of facts, than the order of time. However,
in the present case, the nature ofthe thing speaks for itself,
and shows, that Judas's dipping with Christ in the dish, or
his hand being with Christ on the table, or receiving a sop
dipped in the dish, must be in that order wherein Matthew

and Mark place it in their history, viz. at the passover, an
tecedent to the Lord's supper. For there is no such thing
in the Lord's supper as dipping of sops, and dipping to
gether in the dish ; but there was in fee passover, where
all had their hands together in toe dish, and dipt their sops
in the bitter sauce. None of these three evangelists give
us any account of the time when Judas went out : but
John— who is vastly more particular as to what passed
that night, and is every where more exact as to the order
of time than the other evangelists— is very precise as to the
time, viz- that Jesus when he gave him the sop, at the same
time sent him away, bidding him do quickly what he in
tended to do ; and accordingly when he had received the
sop, he went immediately out, John xiii. 27 — 30. Now
this sop being at the passover, it is evident he was not pre
sent at the Lord's supper which followed. Many of the
best expositors are of this opinion, such as Van Mastricht,
Dr. Doddridge, and others.
Answ. 2. If Judas was there, 1 deny the conse
quence. --As I have observed once and again concerning
the Lord's dealings with his people under the Old Testa
ment, so under the New the same observation takes place.
Christ did not come to judge the secrets of men, nor did
ordinarily act in his external dealings with his disciples,
and in toe administration of ordinances, as the Searcher of
hearts ; but rather as the Head of the visible church, pro
ceeding according to what was exhibited in profession and
visibility ; herein setting an example to his ministers, who
should stand in his place when he was gone, and act in
his name in the administration of ordinances. Judas had
made the same profession of regard to his Master, and of
forsaking all for him, as the other disciples : and therefore
Christ did not openly renounce him till he himself had
destroyed his profession and visibility of saintship, by
public scandalous apostacy. Supposing then the presence
of Judas at the Lord's supper, this affords no consequence
in favour of what I oppose.
Answ. 3. If they with whom 1 have to do in this
controversy, are not contented with toe answers already
given, and think there is a remaining difficulty in this mat
ter lying against my scheme, I will venture to tell them,
that this difficulty lies full as hard against their own scheme ;
and if there be any strength at all in the argument, it is to
all intents of toe same strength against the need of toose
qualifications which they themselves suppose to be neces
sary in order to an approach to the Lord's table. For
although they do not think renewing saving grace neces
sary, yet they suppose moral seriousness or (as they vari
ously Speak) moral sincerity in religion to be necessary.
They suppose it to be requisite, that, persons should have
some kind of serious principle and view in coming to the
Lord's table ; some intention of subjecting themselves to
Christ, and of seeking and serving him, in general ; and
in particular some religious end in coming to the sacra
mental supper, some religious respect to Christ in it. But
now did not Christ at toat time perfectly know, that Judas
had none of these things ? He knew he had nothing of
sincerity in the christian religion, or of regard to Christ in
that ordinance, of any sort whatsoever ; he knew, that
Satan had entered into him and filled his heart, and that
he was then cherishing in himself a malignant spirit against
his Master, excited by the reproof Christ had lately given
him, (compare John xii. 8. with Matt. xxvi. 8— '16. and
Mark xiv. 4—11.) and that he had already formed a
traitorous, murderous design against him, and' was now in
the prosecution of that bloody design, having actually just
before been to the chief priests, and agreed wife toem to
betray him for thirty pieces of silver. (See Matt. xxvi. 14,
15, 16. Mark xiv. 10, 11. Luke xxii. 3—6. and John xiii.
2.) Christ knew these things, and knew that Judas was
utterly unqualified for the holy sacrament of the Lord's
supper ; though it had not yet been made known to the
church, or the disciples.— Therefore it concerns those on
the contrary part in this controversy, to find out some so
lution of this difficulty, as much as it does me ; and they
will find they have as much need to take refuge in the
solution already given, in one or other of the two pre
ceding answers to this objection.

Object. IX.

IF GRACE BE REQUIRED, IT MUST BE KNOWN.

469

By the way I would observe, that Christ's not excluding
Judas from the passover, under these circumstances, know
ing him to be thus unqualified, without so much as moral
sincerity, &c. is another thing that effectually enervates all
the strength ofthe objection against me, from the passover.
For Judas did not only in common with others fall utider
God's strict command, in the law of Moses, to keep this
feast, without any exception of his case there to be found ;
but Christ himself, with his own hand, gave him the sop,
a part of the paschal feast ; even although at the same in
stant he had in view toe man's secret wickedness and
hypocrisy, the traitorous design which was then in his
heart, and the horrid conspiracy with the chief priests,
which he had already entered into, and was now prose
cuting. This was then in Christ's mind, and he intimated
it to him, at the same moment when he gave him the sop,
saying, " What thou doest, do quickly." This demon
strates, that toe objection from the passover is no stronger
argument against my scheme, than the scheme of those
whom I oppose ; because it is no stronger against the
necessity of sanctifying grace, the qualification for chris
tian sacraments, which Iinsist upon, than it is against the
necessity of moral seriousness or sincerity, the qualification
which they insist upon.

OBJECT. VIII.
If sanctifying grace he a requisite qualification in order
to due access to christian sacraments, God would have
given some certain rule, whereby those who are to admit
them, might know whether they have such grace, or not.
Answ. This objection was obviated in my stating the
question. However, I will say something further to it in
this place ; and would observe, that if there be any
strength in this objection, it lies in the truth of this pro
position, viz. That whatever qualifications are requisite in
order to persons' due access to christian sacraments, God has
given some certain rule, whereby those who admit them, may
know whether they have those qualifications, or not. If
this proposition is not true, then there is no force at all in
the argument. But I dare say, there is not a divine, nor
Christian of common sense, on the face of the earth, that
will assert and stand to it, that this proposition is true.
For none will deny, that some sort of belief of the being
of a God, some sort of belief that the Scriptures are the
word of God, that there is a future state of rewards and
punishments, and that Jesus is the Messiah, are qualifi
cations requisite in order to a due access to christian sa
craments ; and yet God has given those who are to admit
persons no certain rule, whereby they mav know whether
they believe any one of these things. Neither has he given
his ministers or churches any certain rule, wherebv they
may know whether any person that offers himself for ad
mission to the sacrament, has any degree of moral sin
cerity, moral seriousness of spirit, or any inward moral
qualification whatsoever. These things have all their ex
istence in the soul, which is out of our neighbour's view.
Not therefore a certainty, but a profession and visibility, of
these things, must be the rule ofthe church's proceeding;
and it is as good and as reasonable a rule of judgment
concerning sailing grace, as it is concerning any other in
ternal invisible qualifications, which cannot be certainly
known by any but the subject himself.

OBJECT. IX.
If sanctifying grace be requisite to a due approach to
the Lord's table, then no man may come but he that
knows he has such grace. A man must not only think he
has a right to the Lord's supper, in order to his lawful
partaking of it ; but he must know he has a right. If
nothing but sanctification gives him a real right to the
Lord's supper, then nothing short of the knowledge of
sanctification gives him a known right to it : only an opi
nion and probable hopes of a right will not warrant his
coming.

Answ. 1. I desire those who insist on this as an invin
cible argument, to consider calmly whether they them
selves ever did, or ever will, stand 'to it. For here these
two things are to be observed :
(1.) If no man may warrantably come to the Lord's
supper, but such as know they have a right, then no un
converted persons may come unless they not only think,
but know, it is the mind of God, that unconverted persons
should come, and know that he does not require grace in
order to their coming. For unless they know that men
may come without grace, they cannot know that they
themselves have a right to come, being without grace.
And will any one assert and stand to it, that of necessity
all adult persons, of every age, rank, and condition of life,
must be so versed in this controversy, as to have a cer
tainty in this matter, in order to their coming to the Lord's
supper ? It would be most absurd for any to assert it to
be a point of easy proof, the evidence of which is so clear
and obvious to every one of every capacity, as to super
sede all occasion for their being studied in divinity, in
order to a certainty of its truth, that persons mav come to
the sacred table of the Lord, notwithstanding they know
themselves to be unconverted! Especially considering,
that the contrary to this opinion has been in general the
judgment of protestant divines and churches, from the
Reformation to this day ; and that the most of the
greatest divines that have ever appeared in the world, wbo
have spent their lives in the diligent prayerful study of
divinity, have been fixed in the reverse of that opinion.
This is sufficient at least to show, that this opinion is not
so plain as not to be a disputable point ; and that the evi
dence of it is not so obvious to persons of the lowest
capacity and little inquiry, as that all mav come to a cer
tainty in the matter, without difficulty and without study.
I would humbly ask here, What has been the case in fact
in our churches, who have practised for so many years on
this principle ? Can it be pretended, or was it ever sup
posed, that the communicants in general, even persons of
mean intellects and low education, not excepting the very
boys and girls of sixteen years old, that have been taken
into the church, had so studied divinity, as not only to
think, but know, that our pious forefathers, and almost all
the protestant and christian divines in the world, have
been in an error in this matter ? And have people ever
been taught the necessity of this previous knowledge?
Has it ever been insisted upon, that before persons come
to the Lord's supper, they must look so far into the case
of a right to the Lord's supper, as to come not only to a
full settled opinion, but even certainty, in this point ? And
has any one minister or church in their admissions ever
proceeded on the supposition, that all whom they took
into communion were so versed in this controversy, as
this comes to ? Has it ever been the manner to examine
them as to their thorough acquaintance with this particu
lar controversy ? Has it been the manner to put by those
who had only an opinion and not a certainty ; even as the
priests who could not find their register, were put by, till
the matter could be determined by Urim and Thummim ?
And I dare appeal to every minister, and every member of
a church that has been concerned in admitting communi
cants, whether they ever imagined, or it ever entered into
their thought, concerning each one to whose admission they
have consented, that they had looked so much into this
matter, as not only to have settled their opinion, but to be
arrived to a proper certainty?
(2.) I desire it may be remembered, that the venerable
author' of the Appeal to the Learned, did in his ministry
ever teach such doctrine from whence it will unavoidably
follow, that no one unconverted man in the world can
know he has a warrant to come to the Lord's supper. For
if any unconverted man has a warrant to worship his
Maker in this way, it must be because God has given
him such warrant by tbe revelation of his mind in the
Holy Scriptures. And therefore if any unconverted man
not only thinks, but knoivs, he has a warrant from God, he
must of consequence, not only think, but know, that the
Scriptures are fee word of God. But I believe all that
survive of the stated hearers of that eminent divine, and
all who were acquainted with him, well remember it to be
a doctrine which he .often taught and much insisted on,

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that no natural man knows the Scripture to be the word of
God ; that although such may think so, yet they do not
know it; and that at best they have but a doubtful opinion :
and he often would express himself thus ; No natural
man is thoroughly convinced, that the Scriptures are the
word of God; if they were convinced, they would be
gained. Now if so, it is impossible any natural man in
the world should ever know, it is his right, in his present
condition, to come to the Lord's supper. True, he may
think it is his right, he may have that opinion : but he
cannot know it; and so must not come, according to this
argument. For it is only the word of God in the Holy
Scriptures, that gives a man a right 'to worship fee Su
preme Being in this sacramental manner, and to come to
him in this way, or any other, as one in covenant witb
him. The Lord's supper being no branch of natural wor
ship, reason without institution is no ground of duty or
right in this affair. And hence it is plainly impossible for
those that do not so much as know the Scriptures are the
word of God, to know they have any good ground of duty
or right in this matter. Therefore, supposing unconverted
men have a real right, yet since they have no known right,
they have no warrant (according to the argument before
us) to take and use their right ; and what good then can
their right do them ? Or how can they excuse them
selves from presumption, in claiming a right, which they
do not know belongs to them ? — lt is said, _ probable
hope that persons are regenerate, will not warrant them to
come ; if they come, they take a liberty to do that which
they do not know God gives them leave to do, which is
horrible presumption in them. But if this be good arguing,
I may as well say, a probable opinion that unregenerate
men may communicate, will not warrant such to do it.
They must have ce-tain knowledge of this ; else their right
being uncertain, they run a dreadful venture in coming.
Answ. 2. Men are liable to doubt concerning their
moral sincerity, as well as saving grace. Suppose an un
converted man, sensible of his being under the reigning
power of sin, was about to appear solemnly to own the
covenant, (as it is commonly called,) and to profess to give
up himself to the service of God in an universal and
persevering obedience ; and suppose at the same time he
knew, that if he sealed this profession at the Lord's supper,
without moral sincerity, (supposing him to understand the
meaning of that phrase,) he should eat and drink judgment
to himself; and if accordingly, his conscience being
awakened, he was afraid of God's judgment ; in this case,
I believe, the man would be every whit as liable to doubts
about his moral sincerity, as godly men are about their
gracious sincerity. And if it be not matter of fact, that
natural men are so often exercised and troubled with
doubts about their moral sincerity, as godly men are about
their regeneration, I suppose it to be owing only to this
cause, viz. that godly men being of more tender con
sciences than those under the dominion of sin, are more
afraid of God's judgments, and more ready to tremble at
his word. The divines on the other side of the question,
suppose it to be requisite, that communicants should be
lieve the fundamental doctrines of religion with all their
heart, (in the sense of Acts viii. 37.) the doctrine of Three
Persons and one God, in particular. But I think there
can be no reasonable doubt, that natural men — who have
so weak and poor a kind of faith in these mysteries — if
they were indeed as much afraid of the terrible conse
quences of their being deceived in being not morally sin
cere in their profession of the truth, as truly gracious men
are wont to be of delusion conceming their experience of
a work of grace— or whether they are evangelically sincere
in choosing God for their portion — toe former would be as
frequently exercised with doubts in the one case, as the
latter in the other. And I very much question, whetoer
any divine on the other side of the controversy would
think it necessary, that natural men in professing those
things should mean that they know they are morally sincere,
or intend any more than feat they trust they have that
sincerity, so far as they know their own hearts. If a man
should come to them, proposing to join with the church,
and tell them, though indeed he was something afraid
whether he believed the doctrine of the Trinity with all

his heart, (meaning in a moral sense,) yet that he had often
examined himself as to that matter wife the utmost im
partiality and strictness he was capable of, and on the
whole he found reasons of probable hope, and his pre
ponderating thought of himself was, that he was sincere
in it ; would they think such an one ought to be rejected,
or would they advise him not to come to the sacrament,
because he did not certainly know he had this sincerity,
but only thought he had it ?
Answ. 3. If we suppose sanctifying grace requisite
in order to be properly qualified, according to God's word,
for an attendance on the Lord's supper ; yet it will not
follow, that a man must know he has this qualification, in
order to his being capable of conscientiously attending it.
If he judges that he has it, according to the best light he
can obtain, on the most careful examination, with the
improvement of such helps as he can get, the advice of
his pastor, &c. he may be bound in conscience to attend.
And the reason is this ; Christians partaking of the Lord's
supper is not a matter of mere claim, or right and privilege,
but a matter of duty and obligation ; being an affair
wherein God has a claim and demand on us. And as we
ought to be careful, on the one hand, toat we proceed on
good grounds in taking to ourselves a privilege, lest we
take what we have no good claim to ; so we should be
equally careful, on the other hand, to proceed on good
grounds in what we withhold from another, lest we do
not withhold toat from him which is his due, and which
he justly challenges from us. Therefore in a case of this
complex nature, where a thing is both a matter of right
or privilege to us, and also a matter of obligation to an
other, or a right of his from us, the danger of proceeding
without right and truth is equal both ways ; and conse
quently, if we cannot be absolutely sure either way, here
the best judgment we can form, after all proper endeavours
to know the truth, must govern and determine us ; other
wise we shall designedly do that whereby, according to
our own judgment, we run the greatest risk ; which is
certainly contrary to reason. If the question were only
what a man has a right to, he might forbear till he were
sure : but the question is, not only whether he has right
to attend the supper, but whether God also has not a right
to his attendance there ? Supposing it were merely a privi
lege which I am allowed but not commanded, in a certain
specified case, then, supposing I am uncertain whether that
be the case with me or no, it will be safest to abstain. But
supposing I am not only forbidden to take it, unless that
be the case with me, but positively commanded and re
quired to take it, if that be the case in fact, then it is
equally dangerous to neglect on uncertainties, as to take
on uncertainties. In such a critical situation, a man must
act according to the best of his judgment on his case ;
otherwise he wilfully runs into that which he thinks fee
greatest danger of fee two.
Thus it is in innumerable cases in human life. I shall
give one plain instance : A man ought not to take upon
him the work of the ministry, unless called to it in the
providence of God ; for a man has no right to take this
honour lo himself, unless culled of God. Now let us sup
pose a young man, of a liberal education, and well ac
complished, to be at a loss whether it is the will of God
that he should follow the work of the ministry ; and he
examines himself, and examines his circumstances, with
great seriousness and solemn prayer, and well considers
and weighs the appearances in divine providence : and
yet when he has done all, he is not come to a proper cer
tainty, that God calls him to this work ; but however, it
looks so to him, according to the best light he can obtain,
and the most careful judgment he can form : now such
an one appears obliged in conscience to give himself to this
work. He must by no means neglect it under a notion
that he must not talte this honour to himself, till he knows
he has a right to it ; because, though it be' indeed a privi
lege, yet it is not a matter of mere privilege, but a matter
of duty too ; and if he neglects it under these circumstances,
he neglects what, according to his own best judgment, he
funks God requires of him, and calls him to ; which is to
sin against his conscience.
As to the case of the priests, that could not find their

Object. X.

TENDER CONSCIENCES ARE PERPLEXED.

471

register, (Ezra ii.) alleged in the Appeal to the Lear-ned, p.
64. it appears to me of no force in this argument ; for if
those priests had never so great assurance in themselves of
their pedigree being good, or of their being descended
from priests, and should have professed such assurance, yet
it would not have availed. Nor did toey abstain from the
priesthood, because they wanted satisfaction themselves,
hut they were subject to the judgment of the Sanhedrim.
God had never made any profession of the parties them
selves, but die visibility of the thing, and evidence of the
fact to their own eyes, as toe rule to judge of the qualifi
cation ; this matter of pedigree being an external object,
ordinarily within the view of man ; and not any qualifica
tion of heart. But this is not the case with regard to requisite
Qualifications for the Lord's supper. These being many of
them internal invisible things, seated in the mind and
heart, such as the belief of a Supreme Being, &c. God
has made a credible profession of these things the rule to
direct in admission of persons to the ordinance. In making
this profession they are determined and governed by their
own judgment of themselves, and not by any thing within
toe view of the church.

OBJECT. X.
The natural consequence of the doctrine which has been
maintained, is the bringing multitudes of persons of a
tender conscience and true piety into great perplexities ;
who being at a loss about the state of their souls, must
needs be as much in suspense about their duty : and it is
not reasonable to suppose, that God would order things so
in the revelations of his will, as to bring his own people into
such perplexities.
Answ. 1. It is for want of the like tenderness of con
science which the godly have, that the other doctrine which
insists on moral sincerity, does not naturally bring those
who are received to communion on those principles, into
the same perplexities, through their doubting of their moral
sincerity, of their believing mysteries with all their heart,
Ike. as has been already observed . And being free from
perplexity, only through stupidity and hardness of heart, is
worse than being in the greatest perplexity through tender
ness of conscience.
Answ. 2. Suppposing the doctrine which I have main
tained, be indeed the doctrine of God's word, yet it will
not follow, that the perplexities true saints are in through
doubting of their state, are effects owing to the revelations
of God's word. Perplexity and distress of mind, not only
on occasion of the Lord's supper, but innumerable other
occasions, is the natural and unavoidable consequence of
true Christians doubting erf their state. But shall we
therefore say, that all these perplexities are owing to the
word of God ? No, it is not owing to God, nor to any of
his revelations, that true saints ever doubt of their state ;
his revelations are plain and clear, and his rules sufficient
for men to determine their own condition by. But, for
the most part, it is owing to their own sloth, and giving
way to their sinful dispositions. Must God's institutions
and revelations be answerable for all the perplexities men
bring on themselves, through their own negligence and un-
watchfulness ? It is wisely ordered that the saints should
escape perplexity in no other way than that of great strict
ness, diligence, and maintaining the lively, laborious, and
self-denying exercises of religion.
It might as well be said, it is unreasonable to suppose
that God should order things so as to bring his own, peo-
Ele into such perplexities, as doubting saints are wont to
e exercised with, in the sensible approaches of death ;
when their doubts tend to vastly greater perplexity, than in
their approaches to the Lord's table. If Christians would
more thoroughly exercise themselves unto godliness, labour
ing alwavs to keep a conscience void of offence both towards
God and towards man, it would be the way to have the
comfort and taste the sweetness of religion. If they would
so run, not as uncertainly ; so fight, not as they thai beat the
air ; it would be the way for them to escape perplexity,
both in ordinances and providences, and to rejoice and en

joy God in both.— Not but that doubting of their state
sometimes arises from other causes, besides want of watch
fulness ; it may arise from melancholy, and some other
peculiar disadvantages. But however, it is not owing to
God's revelations nor institutions ; which, whatsoever we
may suppose them to be, will not prevent the perplexities
of such persons.
Answ. 3. It appears to me reasonable to suppose,
that the doctrine I maintain, if universally embraced by
God's people — however it might be an accidental occasion
of perplexity in many instances, through their own infirmity
and sin — would, on the whole, be a happy occasion'nf much
more comfort to the saints than trouble, as it would have a
tendency, on every return ofthe Lord's supper, to put them
on the strictest examination and trial of the state of their
souls, agreeable to that rule of the apostle, 1 Cor. xi. 28.
The neglect of which great duty of frequent and thorough
self-examination, seems to be one main cause of the dark
ness and perplexity of the saints, and the reason why they
have so little comfort in ordinances, and so little comfort
in general.- — Mr. Stoddard often taught his people, that
assurance is attainable, and that those who are true saints
might know it, if they would ; i. e. if they would use
proper means and endeavours in order to it. — And if so,
then certainly it is not just, to charge those perplexities on
God's institutions, which arise through men's negligence ;
nor would it be just on the supposition of God's institu
tions being such as I suppose them to be.

OBJECT. XI.
You may as well say, that unsanctified persons may not
attend any duty of divine worship whatsoever, as that they
may not attend the Lord's supper ; for all duties of wor
ship are holy and require holiness, in order to an acceptable
performance of them, as well as that.
Answ. If this argument has any foundation at all, it has
its foundation in the supposed truth of the following pro
positions, viz. Whosoever is qualified for admission to one
duty of divine worship, is qualified for admission to all ; and
he that is unqualified for one, and may be forbidden one, is
unquatifiedfor all, and ought to be allowed to attend none.
But certainly these propositions are not true. There are
many qualified for some duties of worship, and may be
allowed to attend them, who yet are not qualified for some
others, nor by any means to be admitted to them. As every
body grants, the unbaptized, the excommunicated, heretics,
scandalous livers, &c. may be admitted to hear the word
preached ; nevertheless they are not to be allowed to come
to the Lord's supper. Even excommunicated persons re
main still under the law of the Sabbath, and are not to be
forbidden to observe the Lord's day. Ignorant persons,
such as have not knowledge sufficient for an approach to
the Lord's table, yet are not excused from the duty of
prayer : they may pray to God to instruct them, and assist
them in obtaining knowledge. They who have been edu
cated in Arianism and Socinianism, and are not yet brought
off from these fundamental errors, and so are by no means
to be admitted to the Lord's supper, yet may pray to God
to assist them in their studies, and guide them into the
truth, and for all other mercies which they need. Socrates,
that great Gentile philosopher, who worshipped the true
God, as he was led by the light of nature, might pray to
God, and he attended his duty when he did so ; although
he knew not the revelation which God had made of him
self in his word. That great philosopher, Seneca, who was
contemporary with the apostle Paul, held one Supreme
Being, and had in many respects right notions of the di
vine perfections and providence, though he did not em
brace the gospel, which at that day was preached in the
world : yet might pray to that Supreme Being whom he
acknowledged. And if his brother Gallio at Corinth,
when Paul preached there, had prayed to this Supreme
Being to guide him into the truth, that he might know
whether the doctrine Paul preached was true, he therein
would have acted very becoming a reasonable creature, and
any one would have acted unreasonably in forbidding him ;

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but \et surely neither of these men was qualified for the
christian sacrament. So that it is apparent there is and
ought to be a distinction made between duties of worship,
with respect to qualifications for them ; and that which is
a sufficient qualification for admission to one duty, is not
so for all. And therefore tbe position is not true, which is
the foundation whereon the whole weight of this argument
rests. To say, that although it be true there ought to be a
distinction made, in admission to duties of worship, with
regard to some qualifications, yet sanctifying grace is not
one of those qualifications that make the difference ; would
be but giving up the argument, and a perfect begging the
question. It is said, there can be no reason assigned, why un
sanctified persons may attend other duties of worship, and
not the Lord's supper. But I humbly conceive this must
be an inadvertence. For there is » reason very obvious
from that necessary and very notable distinction among du
ties of worship, which follows :
1. There are some duties of worship, that imply a pro
fession of God's covenant ; whose very nature and design
is an exhibition of those vital active principles and inward
exercises, wherein consists the condition ofthe covenant of
grace, or that union of soul to God, which is the union be
tween Christ and his spouse, entered into by an inward
hearty consenting to that covenant. Such are the chris
tian sacraments, whose very design is to make and con
firm a profession of compliance wito that covenant, and
whose very nature is to exhibit or express the uniting acts
of the soul : those sacramental duties therefore cannot be
attended by any whose hearts do not really consent to that
covenant, and whose souls do not truly close with Christ,
without either their being self-deceived, or else wilfully
making a false profession, and lying in a very aggravated
manner. 2. There are other duties, which are not in their own
nature an exhibition of a covenant-union with God, or of
any compliance with the condition of the covenant of
grace ; but are the expression of general virtues, or virtues
in their largest extent, including both special and common.
Thus prayer, or asking mercy of God, is in its own nature
no profession of a compliahee with the covenant of grace.
It is an expression of some belief of the being of a
God, some sense of our wants, and of a need of God's
help, some sense of our dependence, &c. but not merely
such a sense of these things as is spiritual and saving.
Indeed there are some prayers proper to be made by saints,
and many things proper to be expressed by them in
Srayer, which imply the profession of a spiritual union of
eart to God through Christ ; but such as no heathen, no
heretic, nor natural man whatever, can or ought to make.
Prayer in general, and asking mercy and help from God,
is no more a profession of consent to the covenant of
grace, than reading the Scriptures, or meditation, or per
forming any duty of morality and natural religion. A
Mahometan may as well ask mercy, as hear instruction :
and any natural man may as well express his desires to
God, as hear when God "declares his will to him. It is
true, when an unconverted man prays, the manner of his
doing it is sinful : but when a natural man, knowing him
self to be so, comes to the Lord's supper, the very matter
of what he does, in respect of the profession he there
makes, and his pretension to lay hold of God's covenant,
is a lie, and a lie told in the most solemn manner.
In a word, the venerable Mr. Stoddard himself, in his
Doctrine of Instituted Churches, has taught us to distin
guish between instituted and natural acts of religion : the
word and prayer he places under the head of moral duty,
and considers as common to all ; but the sacraments, ac
cording to what he says there, being instituted, are of
special administration, and must be limited agreeable to the
institution.

OBJECT. XII.
The Lord's supper has a proper tendency to promote
men's conversion, being an affecting representation of the
greatest and most important things of God's word : it has
a proper tendency to awaken and humble sinners ; here

being*a discovery of the terrible anger of God for sin, by
the infliction »f the curse upon Christ, when sin was im
puted to bim ; and the representation here made of the
dying love of Christ has a tendency to draw tbe hearts of
sinners from sin to God, &c.
Answ. Unless it be an evident truth, that what the
Lord's supper may have tendency to promote, the same it was
appointed to promote, nothing follows from this argument.
If the argument affords any consequence, the consequence
is built on the tendency of the Lord's supper. And if the
consequence be good and strong on this foundation, as
drawn from such premises, then wherever the premises hold,
the consequence holds ; otherwise it must appeal', that the
premises and consequence are not connected. And now let
us see how it is in fact. Do not scandalous persons need
to have these very effects wrought in their hearts which
have been mentioned ? Yes, surely ; they need them in a
special manner : they need to be awakened ; toey need to
have an affecting discovery of that terrible wrath of God
against sin, which was manifested in a peculiar manner by
the terrible effects of God's wrath in fee sufferings of his
own incarnate Son. Gross sinners need this in some
respect more toan otoeis. They need to have their hearts
broken by an affecting A'iew of the great and important
things of God's word. They need especially to fly to
Christ for refuge, and therefore need to have their hearts
drawn. And seeing the Lord's supper has so great a
tendency to promote these things, if the consequence from
the tendency of toe Lord's supper, as inferring the end of
its appointment, be good, then it must be a consequence
also well inferred, that the Lord's supper was appointed
for the reclaiming and bringing to repentance scandalous
persons. To turn this off, by saying, Scandalous persons are ex
pressly forbid, is but giving up the argument, and begging
the question. It is giving up the argument ; since it allows
the consequence not to be good. For it allows, that not
withstanding the proper tendency of the Lord's supper to
promote a design, yet it may be the Lord's supper was not
appointed with a view to promote that end — And it is a
begging toe question ; since it supposes, that unconverted
men are not evidently forbidden, as well as scandalous
persons ; which is the thing in controversy. If they be
evidently forbid, that is as much to reasonable creatures
(who need nothing but good evidence) as if they were
expressly forbidden. — To say here, that fee Lord's supper is
a converting ordinance only to orderly members, and that
there is another ordinance appointed for bringing scandalous
persons to repentance, this is no solution of the difficulty ;
but is only another instance of yielding up the argument,
and begging the question. For it plainly concedes, that
the tendency of an ordinance does not prove it appointed to
all Ac ends, which it seems to have a tendency to pro
mote ; and also supposes, that there is not any other ordi
nance, appointed for converting sinners that are moral and'
orderly in their lives, exclusive of this, which is the thing
in question.
It is at best but very precarious arguing from the seem
ing tendency of things, to the divine appointment, or God's
will and disposition with respect to the use of those things.
Would it not have had a great tendency to convince the
scribes and Pharisees, and to promote their conversion, if
they had been admitted into the mount when Christ was
transfigured ? But yet it was not the will of Christ, that
they should be admitted there, or any other but Peter,
James, and John. Would it not have had a very great
tendency to convince and bring to repentance the unbeliev
ing Jews, if they had been allowed to see and converse
freely with Christ after his resurrection, and see him ascend
into heaven ? But yet it was the will of God, feat none
but disciples should be admitted to these privileges.
Might it not have had a good tendency, if all that were
sincere followers of Christ, women as well as men, had
been allowed to be present at the institution of fee Lord's
supper ? But yet it is commonly thought, none were ad
mitted beside the apostles.
Indeed the ever honoured author of the Appeal to the
Learned has supplied me wito the true and proper answer
to this objection, in the following words, p. 27, 28. " The

Object. XIII.

GOD DOES NOT REQUIRE IMPOSSIBILITIES.

473

efficacy of the Lord's supper does depend upon the bless
ing of God. Whatever tendency ordinances have in their
own nature to be serviceable to men, yet they will not
prevail any further than God doth bless them. " The
weapons of our warfare are mighty through ,God," 2 Cor.
x. 4. It is God that teaches men to profit, and makes
them profitable and serviceable to men's souls. There is
reason to hope for a divine blessing on the Lord's supper,
when it is administered to those that it ought to be adminis
tered to ; God's blessing is to be expected in God's way.
If men act according to their own humours and fancies,
and do not keep in the way of obedience, it is presumption
to expect God^s blessing, Matt. xv. 9. " In vain do they
worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of
men." But when they are admitted to the Lord's supper
that God would have to be admitted, there is ground to
hope that he will make it profitable."

OBJECT. XIII.
All toat are members of the visible church and in the
external covenant, and neither ignorant nor scandalous, are
commanded to perform all external covenant duties ; and
particularly they are commanded to attend the Lord's
supper, in those words of Christ, This do in remembrance
of me.
Answ. This argument is of no force, without first taking
for granted the very thing in question. For this is plainly
supposed in it, that however these commands are given to
such as are in the exter-nal covenant, yet they are given
indefinitely, but with exceptions and reserves, and do
not immediately reach all such ; they do not reach those
who are unqualified, though thev be in the external cove
nant. Now the question is, Who are these that are un
qualified ? The objection supposes, that only ignorant and
scandalous persons are so. But why are they only sup
posed unqualified ; and not unconverted persons too ? Be
cause it is taken for granted, that these are not unqualified.
And thus the grand point in question is supposed, instead
of being proved. Why are these limitations only singled
out, neither ignorant nor scandalous ; and not others as
well ? The answer must be, because these are all the limi
tations which the Scripture makes : but this now is the very
thing in question. Whereas, the business of an argument
is to prove, and not to suppose, or to take for granted, the
very thing which is to be proved.
If it be here said, It is with good reason that those who
are ignorant or scandalous alone are supposed to be except
ed in God's command, and obligations of the covenant ;
for the covenant spoken of in the objection, is the external
covenant, and this requires only external duties; which
alone are what lie within the reach of man's naturalpower,
and so in the reach of his legal power : God does not com
mand or require what men have no natural power to per
form, and which cannot be performed before something
else, some antecedent duty, is performed, which antece
dent duty is not in their natural power.
I reply, Still things are but supposed, which should be
proved, and which want confirmation.
(1 .) tt is supposed, that those who have exter'nally (i. e.
by oral profession and promise) entered into God's cove
nant, are thereby obliged to no more than the external
duties of that covenant : which is not proved, and I hum
bly conceive, is certainly not the true state of the case.
They who have externally entered into God's covenant, are
by external profession and engagements entered into that
one only covenant of grace, which the Scripture informs us
of; and therefore are obliged to fulfil the duties of that
covenant, which are chiefly internal. The children of
Israel, when they externally entered into covenant with
God at mount Sinai, promised to perform all the duties of
the covenant, to obey all the ten commandments spoken by
God in their hearing, and written in tables of stone, which
were therefore called The Tables of the Covenant ; the
sum of which ten commands was, to love the Lord their
God with all their heart, and with all their soul, and to love
their neighbour as themselves ; which principally at least are

internal duties. In particular, they promised not to covet ;
which is an internal duty. — They promised to have no
other god before the Lord; which implied, that they would
in their hearts regard no other being or object whatever
above God, or in equality with him, but would give him
their supreme respect.
(2.) It is supposed, that God does not require impossibili
ties of men, in this sense, that he does not require those
things of them which are out of their natural power, and
particularly that he does not require them to be converted.
But this is not proved ; nor can I reconcile it with the
tenor of the scripture revelation. And the chief advocates
for the doctrine I oppose, have themselves abundantly as
serted the contrary. The venerable author fore-mentioned,
as every body knows, that knew him, always taught, that
God justly requires men to be converted, to repent of their.
sins, and turn to the Lord, to close with Christ, and sav
ingly to believe in him ; and that in refusing to accept of
Christ and turn to God, they disobeyed the divine com
mands, and were guilty of the most heinous sin ; and that
their moral inability was no excuse.
(3.) It is supposed, that God does not command men to
do those things which are not to be done till something else
is done, that is not within the reach of men's natural
ability. This also is not proved ; nor do I see how it can
be true, even according to the principles of those who in
sist on this objection. The fore-mentioned memorable
divine ever taught, that God commandeth natural men
without delay to believe in Christ : and yet he always held,
that it was impossible for them to believe till they had by
a preceding act submitted to the sovereignty of God ; and
yet he held, that men never could do this of themselves, till
humbled and bowed by powerful convictions of God's
Spirit. Again, be taught, that God commandeth natural
men to love him with all their heart : and yet he held, that
this could not be till men had first believed in Christ ; the
exercise of love being a fruit of faith ; and believing in
Christ, he supposed not to be within the reach of man's
natural ability. Further, he held, that God requireth of
all men holy, spiritual, and acceptable obedience ; and yet
that such obedience is not within the reach of their natural
ability ; and not only so, but that there must first be love
to God, before there could be new obedience, and that this
love to God is not within the reach of men's natural ability.
Yet, before this love there must hefuith, which faith is not
within the reach of man's naturalpower; and still, before
faith there must be the knowledge of God, which know
ledge is not in natural men's reach : and, once more, even
before the knowledge of God there must be a thorough
humiliation, which humiliation men could not work in
themselves by any natural power of their own. Now, must
it needs be thought, notwithstanding all these unreasonable
things, that God should command toose whom he has
nourished and brought up, to honour him by giving an
open testimony of love to him ; only because wicked men
cannot testify love till they have love, and love is not in
their natural power ? And is it any good excuse in the
sight of God, for one who is under fee highest obligations
to him, and yet refuses him suitable honour by openly tes
tifying his love of him, to plead that he has no love to tes
tify ; but on the contrary, has an infinitely unreasonable
hatred ? God may most reasonably require a proper testi
mony and profession of love to him ; and yet it. may also be
reasonable to suppose, at the same time, he forbids men to
lie ; or to declare that they have love, when they have none :
because, though it be supposed, that God requires men to
testify love to him, yet he requires them to do it in a right
way, and in the true order, viz. first loving him, and then
testifying their love.
(4.) 1 do not see how it can be true, that a natural man
has not a legal power to be converted, accept of Christ,
love God, &c. By a legal power to do a thing, is plainly
meant such power as brings a person properly within the
reach of a legal obligation, or the obligation of a law or
command to do that thing. But he that has such natural
faculties, as render him a proper subject of moral govern
ment, may properly be commanded, and put under the
obligation of a law to do things so reasonable ; notwith
standing any native aversion and moral inability in him to
do his duty, arising from the power of sin. This also, I

474

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Part III.

must observe, was a known doctrine of Mr. Stoddard's,
and what he ever taught.

OBJECT. XIV.
Either unsanctified persons may lawfully come to the
Lord's supper, or it is unlawful for them to carry themselves
as saints ; but it is not unlawful for them to carry them
selves as saints.
Answ. It is the duty of unconverted men both to become
saints, and to behave as saints. The scripture rule is, Make
the tree good, that the fruit may be good. Mr. Stoddard
himself never supposed, that the fruit of saints was to be
expected from men, or could possibly be brought forth by
them in truth, till they were saints.
And I see not how it is true, that unconverted men
ought, in every respect, to do those external things, which
it is the duty of a godly man to do. It is toe duty of a
godly man, conscious of his having given his heart unto
the Lord, to profess his love to God and his esteem of him
above all, his unfeigned faith in Christ, &c. and in his
closet-devotions to thank God for these graces as the fruit
ofthe Spirit in him. But it is not the duty of another that
really has no faith, nor love to God, to do thus. Neither
any more is it a natural man's duty to profess these things
in the Lord's supper. — Mr. Stoddard taught it to be the
duty of converts, on many occasions, to profess their faith
and love and other graces before men, by relating their
experiences in conversation : but it would be great wicked
ness, for such as know themselves to be not saints, thus to
do ; because toey would speak falsely, and utter lies in so
doing. Now, for the like reason, it would be very sinful,
for men to profess and seal their consent to the covenant
of grace in the Lord's supper, when they know at the same
time toat they do not consent to it, nor have their hearts at
all in the affair.

OBJECT. XV.
This scheme will keep out of the church some true
saints; for there are some such who determine against
themselves, and their prevailing judgment is, that they are
not saints : and we had better let in several hypocrites,
than exclude one true child of God.
Answ. I think, it is much better to insist on some
visibility to reason, of true saintship, in admitting mem
bers, even although this, through men's infirmitv and
darkness, and Satan's temptations, be an occasion of some
true saints abstaining ; than by express liberty given, to
open the door to as many as please, of those who have no
visibility of real saintship, and make no profession of it,
nor pretension to it ; and that because this method tends
to the ruin and great reproach of toe christian church,
and also to the ruin of the persons admitted.
1. It tends to the reproach and ruin of the christian
church. For by the rule which God hath given for
admissions, if it be carefully attended, (it is said,) more
unconverted than converted persons, will be admitted. It is
then confessedly the way to have the greater part of the
members of the christian church ungodly men ; yea, so
much greater, that the godly shall be but few in compari
son of toe ungodly ; agreeable to their interpretation of
that saying of Christ, marey are called, but few arc chosen.
Now, if this be an exact state of the case, it will demon
strably follow, on scripture principles, that opening the
door so wide has a direct tendency to bring into christian
churches such as are without even moral sincerity, and do
not make religion at all their business, neglecting and
casting off secret prayer and other duties, and living a life
of carnality and vanity, so far as they can, consistently
with avoiding church-censures ; which possibly may be
sometimes to a great degree. Ungodly men may be
• And this by the way answers another objection, which some have
made, viz. Thai the way I plead for, tends to keep the church of Christ
small, and hinder the growth of it Whereas. I think, the contrary tends
to keep it small, as it is the wickedness of its members,, that above all

morally sober, serious, and conscientious, and may have
what is called moral sincerity, for a wbile ; and even may
have these things in a considerable measure, when they
first come into the church : but if their hearts are not
changed, toere is no probability at all of these toings con
tinuing long. The Scripture has told us, that this their
goodness is apt to vanish like the morning cloud and early
dew. How can it be expected but feat their religion
should in a little time wither away, when it has no root ?
How can it be expected, that the lamp should burn long,'
without oil in the vessel to feed it ? If lust he unmortified,
and left in reigning power in the heart, it will sooner or
later prevail ; and at length sweep away common grace and'
moral sincerity, however excited and maintained for a while
by conviction and temporary affections. It will happen
to them according to the true proverb, The dog is returned
to his vomit ; and the swine that was washed, to his wallow
ing in the mire. It is said of the hypocrite, Will he delight
himself in the Almighty ? Will he always call upon God?
— And thus our churches will be likely to be such con
gregations as toe psalmist said he hated, and would not
sit with. Psal. xxvi. 4, 5. " I have not sat wito vain
persons, nor will I go in with dissemblers ; I have hated
the congregation of evil-doers, nor will I sit with the
wicked."— This will be the way to have the Lord's table
ordinarily furnished with such guests as allow themselves
to live in known sin, meeting together only to crucify-
Christ afresh, instead of commemorating his crucifixion
with the repentance, faith, gratitude, and love of friends.
And tois is the way to have the governing part of the
church such as are not even conscientious men, and are
careless about the honour and interest of religion. And
the direct tendency of that is, in process of time, to intro
duce a prevailing negligence in discipline, and careless
ness in seeking ministers of a pious and worthy character.
And toe next step will be, fee church being filled with
persons openly vicious in manners, or else scandalously
erroneous in opinions. It is well if tois be not already the1
case in fact with some churches that have long professed
and practised on the principles I oppose. And if these
principles should be professed and proceeded on by
christian churches every where, the natural tendency of it
would be, to have toe greater part of what is called the
church of Christ, through the world, made up of vicious
and erroneous persons. And how greatly would this be
to toe reproach of the christian church, and of the holy
name and religion of Jesus Christ in fee sight of all
nations ! *
And now is it not better, to have a- few real living
Christians kept back through darkness and scruples, than
to open a door for letting in such universal ruin as this ?
To illustrate it by a familiar comparison ; Is it not better,
when England is at war with France, to keep out of the
British realm a few loyal Englishmen, than to give leave
for as many treacherous Frenchmen to come in as please ?
2. This way tends to the eternal ruin of the parlies
admitted ; for it lets in such, yea, it persuades such to
come in, as know themselves to be impenitent and unbeliev
ing, in a dreadful manner to take God's name in vain ; in
vain to worship him, and abuse sacred things, by perform
ing those external acts and rites in the name of God,
which are instituted for declarative signs and professions
of repentance toward God, faith in Christ, and love to
him, at the same time that they know themselves destitute
of those things which they profess to have. And is it not
better, that some true saints, through toeir own weakness
and misunderstanding, should be kept away from the
Lord's table, which will not keep such out of heaven,
than voluntarily to bring in multitudes of false professors
to partake unworthily, and in effect to seal their own con
demnation.
OBJECT. XVI.
You cannot keep out hypocrites, when all is said and
done ; but as many graceless persons will be likely to get
things in the world prejudices mankind against it; and is the chief stum
bling-block, that hinders the propagation of Christianity, and so the growth
of the christian church. But holiness would cause the light of the church
to shine so as to induce others to resort to it ^"".u

Object. XVII.

SOME'TRUE SAINTS DOUBT OF THEIR STATE.

475

into the church in the way of a profession of godliness, as
if nothing were insisted on, but a freedom from public
scandal. Answ. It may possibly be so in some places through
the misconduct of ministers and people, by remissness in
their inquiries, carelessness as to the proper matter of a
profession, or setting up some mistaken rules .of judgment;
neglecting those things which the Scripture insists upon as
the most essential articles in the character of a real suint ;
and substituting others in the room of them ; such as
impressions on the imagination, instead of renewing influ
ences on the heart; pangs of affection, instead of the
habitual temper of the mind ; a certain method and order
of impressions and suggestions, instead of the nature of
things experienced, &c. But to say, that in churches
wbere the nature, fee notes, and evidences of true Chris
tianity, as described in the Scriptures, are well under
stood, taught, and observed, there as many hypocrites
are likely to get in ; or to suppose, that there as many
persons of an honest character, who are Well instructed in
these rules, and well conducted by them — and judging of
toemselves by these rules, do think themselves true saints,
and accordingly make profession of godliness, and are
admitted as saints in a judgment of rational charity — are
likely to be carnal, unconverted men, as of those who make
no such pretence and have no such hope, nor exhibit any
such evidences to the eye of a judicious charity, is not so
much an objection against the doctrine I am defending, as
a reflection upon the Scripture itself, with regard to the
rules it gives, either for persons to judge of their own state,
or for others to form a charitable judgment, as if they were
of little or no service. We are in miserable circumstances
indeed, if the rules of God's holy word in things of such
infinite importance, are so ambiguous and uncertain, like
the heathen oracles. And it would be very strange, if in
these days of the gospel, when God's mind is revealed
with such great plainness of speech, and the canon of Scrip
ture is completed, it should ordinarily be the case in fact,
that those who, having a right doctrinal understanding of
the Scripture, and judging themselves by its rules, do pro
bably conclude or seriously hope of toemselves, that they
are real saints, are as many of them in a state of sin and
condemnation, as others who have no such rational hope
concerning their good estate, nor pretend to any special
experiences in religion.

OBJECT. XVII.
If a profession of godliness he a thing required in order
to admission into the church, there being some true saints
who doubt of their state, and from a tender conscience will
not dare to make such a profession ; and there being others,
that have no grace, nor much tenderness of conscience, but
great presumption and forwardness, who will boldly make
the highest profession of religion, and so will get admit
tance : it will hence come to pass, that the very thing, which
will in effect procure for the latter an admission, rather
than the former, will be their presumption and wickedness.
Answ. 1. It is no sufficient objection against the whole-
someness of a rule established for regulating the civil state
of mankind, that in some instances men's wickedness may
take advantage by that rule, so that even their wickedness
shall be the very thing, which, by an abuse of that rule,
procures them temporal honours and privileges. For such
is the present state of man in this evil world, that good
rules, in many instances, are liable to be thus abused and
perverted. As for instance, there are many human laws,
accounted wholesome and necessary, by which an accused
or suspected person's own solemn profession of innocency,
upon oath, shall be the condition of acquittance and im
punity ; and the want of such a protestation or profession
shall expose him to the punishment. And yet, by an
abuse of these rules, in some instances, nothing but the
horrid sin of perjury, or that most presumptuous wicked
ness of false swearing, shall be the very thing that acquits
a man : while another of a more tender conscience, who
fears an oath, must suffer the penalty ofthe law.

2. Those rules, by all wise lawgivers, are accounted
wholesome, which prove of general good tendency, not
withstanding any bad consequences arising in some par
ticular instances. • And as to the ecclesiastical rule now in
question, of admission to sacraments on a profession of
godliness, when attended with requisite circumstances ;
although in particular instances it may be an occasion of
some tender-hearted Christians abstaining, and some pre
sumptuous sinners being admitted, yet that does not hinder
but that a proper visibility of holiness to the eye of reason,
or a probability of it in a judgment of rational christian
charity, may this way be maintained, as the proper quali
fication of candidates for admission. Nor does it hinder
but that it may be reasonable and wholesome for mankind,
in their outward conduct, to regulate themselves by such
probability ; and that this should be a reasonable and good
rule for the church to regulate themselves by in their ad
missions ; notwithstanding it may happen in particular
instances, that things are really diverse from, yea the very
reverse of, what they are visibly. Such a profession as has
been insisted on, when attended with requisite circum
stances, carries in it a rational credibility in the judgment
of christian charity : for it ought to be attended with an.
honest and sober character, and with evidences of good
doctrinal knowledge, and with all proper, careful, and
diligent instructions of a prudent pastor. And though the
pastor is not to act as a searcher of the heart, or a lord of
conscience in tbis affair, yet that hinders not but that he
may and ought to inquire particularly into the experiences
of the souls committed to his care and charge, that he may
be under the best advantages to instruct and advise them,
to apply tbe teachings and rules of God's word unto them,
for their self-examination, to be helpers of their joy, and
promoters of their salvation. However, finally, not any
pretended extraordinary skill of his in discerning the heart,
but the person's own serious profession concerning what
he finds in his own soul, after he has been well instructed,
must regulate the public conduct with respect to him,
where there is no other external visible thing to contradict
and overrule it. And a serious profession of godliness,
under these circumstances, carries in it a visibility to the
eye of the church's rational and christian judgment.
3. If it be still insisted on, that a rule of admission into
the church cannot be good, if liable to such abuse as that
forementioned, I must observe, This will overthrow the
rules that the objectors themselves go by in their admis
sions. For they insist upon it, that a man must not only
have knowledge and be free of scandal, but must appear
orthodox and profess the common faith. Now presump
tuous lying, for the sake of the honour of being in the
church, having children baptized, and voting in ecclesias
tical affairs, may possibly be the very thing that brings
some men into the church by tbis rule ; while greater ten
derness of conscience may be the very thing that keeps others
out. For instance, a man who secretly in his mind gives
no credit to the commonly received doctrine of the Trinity,
yet may, by pretending an assent to it, and in hypocrisy
making a public profession of it, get into the church ; when
at the same time another that equally disbelieves it, but has
a more tender conscience than to allow himself in solemnly
telling a lie, may by that very means be kept off from the

communion.

OBJECT. XVIII.

It seems hardly reasonable to suppose, that the only
wise God has made men's opinion of themselves, and a pro
fession of it, the term of their admission to church-privi
leges ; when we know, that very often the worst men have
the highest opinion of themselves.
Answ. 1. It must be granted me, that in fact this is
the case, if any proper profession at all is expected and
required, whether it be of sanctifying grace, or of moral
sincerity, or any thing else that is good: and to be sure,
nothing is required to be professed, or is worthy to be
professed, any further than it is good.
Answ. 2. If some things, by the confession of all, must
be professed, because toey are good, and of great import-

476

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part III.

ance ; then certainly it must be very unreasonable, to say,
that those things wherein true holiness consists are not to
be professed, or that a profession of them should not he
required, because they are good, even in the highest degree,
and infinitely the most important and most necessary things
of any in the world. And it is unreasonable to say, that
it is the less to be expected we should profess sincere
friendship to Christ, because friendship to Christ is the
most excellent qualification of any whatsoever, and the
contrary the most odious. How absurd is it to say this,
merely under a notion that for a man to profess what is so
good and so reasonable, is to profess a high opinion of
himself! Answ. 3. Though some of the worst men are apt to
entertain the highest opinion of themselves, yet their self-
conceit is no rule to the church ; but the apparent credi
bility of men's profession is to be the ground of ecclesias
tical proceedings.

OBJECT. XIX.
If it be necessary that adult persons should make a
profession of godliness, in order to their own admission to
baptism, then undoubtedly it is necessary in order to their
children being baptized on their account. For parents can
not convey to their children a right to this sacrament by
virtue of any qualifications lower than those requisite in
order to their own right : children being admitted to bap
tism only as being, as it were, parts and members of their
parents. And besides, toe act of parents in offering up
their children in a sacrament, which is a seal of the cove
nant of grace, is in them a solemn attending that sacra
ment as persons interested in the covenant, and a public
manifestation of their approving and consenting to it, as
truly as if they then offered up themselves to God in that
ordinance. Indeed it implies a renewed offering up them
selves with their children, and devoting both jointly to God
in covenant ; themselves, with their children, as parts of
themselves. But now what fearful work will such doctrine
make amongst us ! We shall have multitudes unbaptized,
who will be without the external badge of Christianity,
and so in that respect will be like heathens. And this is
the way to have the land full of persons who are destitute
of that which is spoken of in Scripture as ordinarily re
quisite to men's salvation ; and it will bring a reproach on
vast multitudes, with the families they belong to. And
not only so, but it will tend to make them profane and
heathenish ; for by thus treating our children, as though
" they had no part in the Lord, we shall cause them to
cease from fearing the Lord;" Josh. xxii. 24, 25.
Answ. 1. As to children being destitute of that which
is spoken of in Scripture as one thing ordinarily requisite
to salvation ; I would observe, that baptism can do their
souls no good any otherwise than through God's blessing
attending it : but we have no reason to expect his blessing
with baptism, if administered to those that it does not be
long to by his institution.
Answ. 2. As to the reproach, which will be brought on
parents and children, by children going without baptism,
, through the parents neglecting a profession of godliness,
and so visibly remaining among fee unconverted ; if any
insist on tois objection, I think it will savour of much un
reasonableness and even stupidity.
It will savour of an unreasonable spirit. Is it not enough,
if God freely offers men to own their children and to give
them the honour of baptism, in case the parents will turn
from sin and relinquish their enmity against him, heartily
give up themselves and their children to him, and take
upon them the profession of godliness? — If men are truly
excusable, in not turning to God through Christ, in not be
lieving with the heart, and in not confessing with the
mouth, why do not we openly plead that they are so ?
And why do we not teach sinners, that they are not to
blame for continuing among the enemies of Christ, and
neglecting and despising his great salvation? If they
are not at all excusable in this, and it be wholly owing to

their own indulged lusts, that they refuse sincerely to give
up themselves and their children to God, then how un
reasonable is it for them to complain that their children are
denied the honour of having God's mark set upon them as
some of his ? If parents are angry at this, such a temper
shows them to be very insensible of their own vile treat
ment of the blessed God. Suppose a prince send to a
traitor in prison, and upon opening the prison doors make
him the offer, that if he would come forth and submit
himself to him, he should not only be pardoned himself,
but both he and his children should have such and such
badges of honour conferred upon them ; and yet the rebel's
enmity and stoutness of spirit against his prince is such,
that he cannot find in his heart to comply with the gracious
offer, will he have any cause to be angry, that his children
have not those badges of honour given them ? Besides, it
is very much owing to parents, that there are so many
young people who can make no profession of godliness.
They have themselves therefore to blame, if proceeding on
the principles which have been maintained, there is like to
rise a generation of unbaptized persons. If ancestors had
thoroughly done their duty to their posterity in instructing,
praying for, and governing their children, and setting them
good examples, there is reason to think, the case would
have been far otherwise.
Insisting on this objection would savour of much stih
pidity. For the objection seems to suppose the country to
be full of those that are unconverted, and so exposed every
moment to eternal damnation; yet it seems we do not
hear such great and general complaints and lamentable
outcries concerning this. Now why is it looked upon so
dreadful, to have great numbers going without the name
and honourable badge of Christianity, when at the same
time it is no more resented and laid to heart, that such
multitudes go without the thing, which is infinitely more
dreadful? Why are we so silent about this? What is
the reame good for, without the thing? Can parents bear
to have their children go about the world in the most
odious and dangerous state of soul, in reality the children
of the devil, and condemned to eternal burnings ; when at
the same time they cannot bear to have them disgraced by
going without the honour of being baptized 1 A high
honour and privilege this is ; yet how can parents be con-i
tented with the sign, exclusive of tbe thing signified ?
Why should toey covet the external honour for their chil
dren, while they are so careless about the spiritual bless
ing ? Does not this argue a senselessness of their own
misery, as well as of their children's, in being in a Christ
less state ? If a man and his child were both together bit
ten by a viper, dreadfully swollen, and like to die, would
it not argue stupidity in the parent, to be anxiously con
cerned only about his child's having on a dirty garment in
such circumstances, and angry at others for not putting
some outward ornament upon it? But the difference in
this present case is infinitely greater, and more important.
Let parents pity their poor children because they are with
out baptism ; and pity themselves who are in danger of
everlasting misery, while they have no interest in the cove
nant of grace, and so have no right to covenant favours
and honours, for themselves nor children. No religious
honours, to be obtained in any other way than by real re
ligion, are much worth contending for. And in truth, it is
no honour at all to a man, to have merely the outward
badges of a Christian, without being => Christian indeed ;
any more than it would be an honour to a man that has
no learning, but is a mere dunce, to have a degree at col
lege ; or than it is for a man who has no valour, but is a
grand coward, to have an honourable commission in au
army ; which only serves, by lifting him up, to expose him
to deeper reproach, and sets him forth as the more notable
object of contempt.
Answ. 3. Conceming the tendency of this way of con
fining baptism to professors of godliness and their chil
dren, to promote irreligion and profaneness ; I would ob
serve, first, That Christ is best able to jud»e of the tendency
of his own institutions. Secondly, I am bold to say, that
supposing this principle and practice to have such a tend
ency, is a great mistake, contrary to Scripture and plain
reason and experience. Indeed such a tendency it would

Object. XIX.

IT IS AGAINST INFANT BAPTISM.

477

have, to shut men out from having any part in the Lord,
(in fee sense ofthe two tribes and half, Josh. xxii. 25.) or
to fence them out by such a partition-wall as formerly was
between Jews and Gentiles ; and so to shut them out as
to tell them, if they were never so much disposed to serve
God, he was not ready to accept them ; according to the
notion the Jews seem to have had of the uncircumcised
Gentiles. — But to forbear giving men honours to which
they have no title, and not to compliment them with the
name and badge of God's people and children, while they
pretend to nothing but what is consistent with their being
his enemies, this has no such tendency. But the contrary
has very much this tendency. For is it not found by con
stant experience through all ages, that blind, corrupt man
kind, in matters of religion, are strongly disposed to rest in
a name instead of the thing ; in the shadow, instead of the
substance ; and to make themselves easy with the former,
in the neglect of the latter? This over-valuing of com
mon grace, and moral sincerity, as it is called ; this build
ing so much upon them, making them the conditions of
enjoying the seals of God's covenant, and the appointed
privileges, and honourable and sacred badges, of God's
children ; this, I cannot but think, naturally tends to sooth
and flatter the pride of vain man, while it tends to aggran
dize those things in men's eyes, which they of toemselves
are strongly disposed to magnify and trust in, without
such encouragements to prompt them to it, yea, against
all discouragements and dissuasives that can possibly be
used with them.
This way of proceeding greatly tends to establish the
negligence of parents, and to confirm the stupidity and
security of wicked children. — If baptism were denied to all
children, whose parents did not profess godliness, and in a
judgment of rational charity appear real saints, it would
tend to excite pious heads of families to more thorough
care and pains in the religious education of their children,
and to more fervent prayer for them, that toey might be
converted in youth, before toey enter into a married state ;
and so if they have children, the entail of the covenant be
secured. — And it would tend to awaken young people
themselves, as yet unconverted, especially when about to
settle in the world. Their having no right to christian privi
leges for toeir children, in case toey should become parents,
would tend to lead toem at such a time seriously to reflect
on toeir own awful state ; which, if they do not get out of
it, must lay a foundation for so much calamity and re
proach to toeir families. And if after their becoming
parents, they still remain unconverted, the melancholy
thought of their children going without so much as the
external mark of Christians, would have a continual ten
dency to affect them with their own sin and folly in
neglecting to turn to God, by which they bring such
visible calamity and disgrace on themselves and families.
They would have this additional motive continually to
stir "them up to seek grace for themselves and their chil
dren. Whereas, the contrary practice has a natural ten
dency to quiet the minds of persons, both in their own and
their children's unregeneracy. Yea, may it not be sus
pected, that the way of baptizing the children of such as
never make any proper profession of godliness, is an ex
pedient originally invented for that very end, to give ease
to ancestors wife respect to their posterity, in times of
general declension and degeneracy ?
This way of proceeding greatly tends to establish the
stupidity and irreligion of children, as well as the negli
gence of parents. It is certain, toat unconverted parents
do never tmly give up their children to God ; since they
do not truly give up themselves to him. And if neither
of the parents appear tmly pious, in the judgment of
rational charity, there is not in this case any ground to ex
pect that the children will be brought up in the nurture
and admonition of the, Lord, or that they will have any
thing worthy the name of a christian education, how
solemnly soever the parents may promise it. The faith
fulness of Abraham was such as might be trusted in this
matter. See Gen. xviii. 19. But men that are not so much
as visibly godly, upon what grounds are they to be trusted ?
How can it be reasonably expected, that they should faith
fully bring up their children for Gon, who were never sin
cerely willing that their children or themselves should be

his 1. And it will be but presumption, to expect that those
children who are never given up to God, nor brought up
for him, should prove religious, and be God's children.
There is no manner of reason to expect any other than that
such children ordinarily will grow up in irreligion, whether
they are baptized or riot. And for persons to go about
wife the name and visible seal of God, and the sacred
badge of Christianity upon them, having had their bodies,
by a holy ordinance, consecrated to God as his temples,
yet living in irreligion and ways of wickedness ; this serves
to tend exceedingly to harden them, and establisb in them
an habitual contempt of sacred things. Such persons,
above all men, are like to be toe most hardened and
abandoned, and reclaimed with most difficulty : as it was
with the wicked Jews, who were much more confirmed in
their wickedness, than those heathen cities of Tyre and
Sidon. To give that which is holy to those who are pro
fane, or whom we have no reason, from the circumstances
of parentage and education, to expect will be otherwise, is
not the way to make them better, but worse. It is the
way to have them habitually trample holy things under
their feet, and increase in contempt of them, yea, even to
turn again and rend us, and be more mischievous and
hurtful enemies of that which is good, than otherwise thev
would be. OBJECT. XX.
Some ministers have been greatly blessed in the other
way of proceeding, and some men have been converted at
tlie Lord's supper.
Answ. Though we are to eye the providence of God,
and not disregard his works, yet to interpret them to a
sense, or to apply them to an use, inconsistent with the
scope ofthe word of God, is a misconstruction and misap
plication of them. God has not given us his providence,
but his word , to be our governing rule. God is sovereign in
his dispensations of providence ; he bestowed the blessing
on Jacob, even when he had a lie in his mouth. He was
pleased to meet with Solomon, and make known himself
to him, and bless him in an extraordinary manner, while
he was worshipping in a high place. He met wife Saul,
when in a course of violent opposition to him, and out of
the way of his duty in the highest degree, going to Damas
cus to persecute Christ; and even then bestowed toe
greatest blessing upon him, that perhaps ever was bestowed
on a mere man. The conduct of Divine Providence, with
its reasons, is too little understood by us, to be improved
as our rule. " God has his way in the sea, his path in the
mighty waters, and his footsteps are not known : and he
gives none account of any of his matters." But God has
given us his word, to this very end, that it might be our
rule ; and therefore has so ordered it that it may be under
stood by us. And strictly speaking, tois is our only rule.
If we join any thing else to it, as making it our rule, we
do that which we have no warrant for, yea, that which
God himself has forbidden. See Deut. iv. 2. Prov. xxx. 6.
And with regard to God's blessing and succeeding minis
ters, have not some had remarkable experience of it in the
way which I plead for, as well as some who have been for
the way I oppose ? However, we cannot conclude, that
God sees nothing at all amiss in ministers, because he
blesses them. In general, he may see those things in them
which are very right and excellent ; these he approves and
regards, while he overlooks and pardons their mistakes in
opinion or practice, and, notwithstanding these, is pleased'
to crown their labours with his blessing.
As to the two last arguments in the Appeal to the Learned,
concerning the subjects of the christian sacraments, their
being members of the visible church, and not the invisible ;
toe force of those arguments depends entirely on the reso
lution of this question, Who are visible sainls ? or what
adult persons are regularly admitted to the privileges of
members of the visible church? Which question has
already been largely considered ; and, I think, it has been
demonstrated that they are those who exhibit a credible pro
fession and visibility of gospel holiness or vital piety, and
not merely of moral sincerity. So that there is no need of
further debating the point in this place.

478

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Part III.

I might here mention many toings riot yet noticed,
which some object as inconveniences attending the scheme
I have maintained. If men should set up their own wit
and wisdom in opposition to God's revealed will, there is
no end of objections of this kind, which might be raised
against any of God's institutions. Some have found great
fault even with the creation ofthe world, as being very in
conveniently done, and have imagined that toey could
tell how it might be mended in a great many respects.
But however God's altar may appear homely to us, yet if
we lift up our hand to mend it, we shall pollute it. Laws
and institutions are given for fee general good, and not to
avoid every particular inconvenience. And however it
may so happen, that sometimes inconveniences (real or
imaginary) may attend the scheme I have maintained;
yet, I think, they are in no measure equal to the manifest
conveniences and happy tendencies of it, or to toe pal
pable inconveniences and pernicious consequences of the
other. — I have already mentioned some things of this
aspect, and would here briefly observe some others.
Thus, the way of making such a difference between
outward duties of morality and worship, and those great
inward duties of our love of God and acceptance of Chriit,
that the former must be visible, but that there need be no
exhibition nor pretence of the latter, in order to persons
being admitted into the visible family of God ; and that
under a notion of the latter being impossibilities, but the
other being within men's power; this, I think, has a direct
tendency to confirm in men an insensibility of the heinous
ness of unbelief and enmity against God our Saviour,
which are the source and sum of all wickedness. It
tends to prevent their coming under an humbling convic-
tion of the greatness and utter inexcusableness of these
sins, which men must be brought to if ever they obtain
salvation. Indeed it is a way that not only has this ten
dency, but has actually and apparently this effect, and
that to a great degree.
The effect of this method of proceeding in the churches
in New England, which have fallen into it, is actually
this. — There are some that are received into these churches
under the notion of their being in the judgment of rational
charity visible saints or professing saints, who yet at the
same time are actually open professors of heinous wick
edness ; I mean, the wickedness of living in known im
penitence and unbelief, the wickedness of living in en
mity against God, and in the rejection of Christ under the
gospel. Or, which is tbe same thing, they are such as
freely and frequently acknowledge, that they do not pro
fess to be as yet born again, but look on themselves as
really unconverted, as having never unfeignedly accepted
of Christ ; and they do either explicitly or implicitly
number themselves among those that love not the Lord
Jesus Christ; of whom the apostle says, let such be Ana
thema Maran-atha ! And accordingly it is known, all
over the town where they live, that they make no preten
sions to any sanctifying grace already obtained ; nor of
consequence are they commonly looked upon as any other
than unconverted persons. Now, can this be judged the
comely order of the gospel ? or shall God be supposed the
author of such confusion ?
In this way of church-proceeding, God's own children
and the true disciples of Christ are obliged to receive
those as their brethren, admit them to the communion of
saints, and embrace them in the highest acts of christian
society, even in their great feast of lore, where they feed
together on the body and blood of Christ, whom yet thev
have no reason to look upon otherwise than as enemies of
the cross of Christ, and haters of their heavenly Father
and dear Redeemer. For they make no pretension to any
thing at all inconsistent with those characters ; yea, in many
places, as I said before, freely professing this to be actually
the case with them.
Christ often forbids the members of his church to judge
one another. But in this way of ecclesiastical proceeding,
it is done continually, and looked upon as no hurt ; a
great part of those admitted into the church are by others
of the same communion judged unconverted, graceless per
sons ; and it is impossible to avoid it, while we stretch not
bevond the bounds of a rational charity.
This method of proceeding must inevitably have one of

these two consequences : either there must be no public
notice at all given of it, when so signal a work of grace is
wrought, as a sinner being brought to repent and turn to
God, and hopefully become the subject of saving con
version ; or else this notice must be given in the way of
conversation, by the persons themselves, frequently, freely,
and in all companies, declaring their own experiences.
But surely, either of these consequences must be very
unhappy.— The former is so, viz. forbidding and prevent
ing anv public, notice being given on earth of the repent
ance of a sinner, an event so much to the honour of God,
and so much taken notice of in heaven, causing joy in the
presence of the angels of God, and tending so much to the
advancement of religion in the world. For it is found by
experience, that scarce any one thing has so great an in
fluence to awaken sinners, and engage them to seek sal
vation, and to quicken and animate saints, as the tidings
of a sinner's repentance, or hopeful conversion. God
evidently makes use of it as an eminent means of ad
vancing religion in a time of remarkable revival. And to
take a course effectually to prevent its being notified on
earth, appears to me a counteracting of God, in that which
he ever makes use of as a chief means of the propagation
of true pietv, and which we have reason to think he will
make use of as one principal means of the conversion of
the world in the glorious latter day. — But now as to the
other way— the way of giving notice to the public of this
event, by particular persons themselves publishing their
own experiences, from time to time and from place to
place, on all occasions and before all companies— 1 must
confess, it is a practice that appears to me attended with
many inconveniences, yea, big with mischiefs. The abun
dant trial of this method lately made, and the large expe
rience we have had of the evil consequences of it, is
enough to put all sober and judicious people for ever out
of conceit with it. I shall not pretend to enumerate all
the mischiefs attending it, which would be very tedious ;
but sball now only mention two things. One is, the bad
effect it has upon the persons themselves that practise it,
in the great tendency it has to spiritual pride ; insensibly
begetting and establishing an evil habit of mind in that
respect, by the frequent return of the temptation, and this
many times when thev are not guarded against it, and
have no time, by consideration and prayer, to fortify their
minds. And then it has a very bad effect on the minds
of others that hear their communication, and so on the
state of religion in general, in this way. It being thus the
custom for persons of all sorts, young and old, wise and
unwise, superiors and inferiors, freely to tell their own
experiences before all companies, it is commonly done
very injudiciously, often very rashly and foolishly, out of
season, and in circumstances tending to defeat any good
end. Even sincere Christians loo frequently in their con
versation insist mainly on those things that are no part of
their true spiritual experience; such as impressions on
their imagination, suggestions of facts by passages of
Scripture, &c. ; in which case children and weak persons
that hear, are apt to form their notions of religion and true
piety by such experimental communications, and much
more than they do by the most solid and judicious in
structions thev hear from the pulpit. This is found to be
one of the devices whereby Satan has an inexpressible
advantage to ruin the souls# of men, and utterly to con
found the interest of religion. — This matter of making a
public profession of godliness or piety of heart, is cer
tainly a very important affair, and ought to be under some
public regulation, and under the direction of skilful guides,
and not left to fee management of every man, woman, and
child, according to their humour or fancy. And when it
is done, it should be done with great seriousness, prepar
ation, and praver, as a solemn act of public respect and
honour to God, in his house and in the presence of his
people. Not that I condemn, but greatly approve of, per
sons speaking sometimes of their religious experiences in
private conversation, to proper persons and on proper oc
casions, with modesty and discretion, when the glory of
God and the benefits or just satisfaction of others require
it of them.
In a word, the practice of promiscuous admission — or
that way of taking all into the church indifferently, as visi-

Object. XX.

SOME CONVERTED AT THE LORD'S SUPPER.

479

ble saints, who are not either ignorant or scandalous— and
at the same time that custom taking place of persons pub
lishing their own conversion in common conversation;
where these two things meet together, they unavoidably
make two distinct kinds of visible churches, or different
bodies of professing saints, one within another, openly
distinguished one from another, as it were by a visible
dividing line. One company consisting of those who are
visibly gracious Christians, and open professors of godli
ness; another consisting of those who are visibly moral
livers, and only profess common virtues, without pretend
ing to any special and spiritual experiences in their
hearts, and who therefore are not reputed to be converts.
I mav appeal to those acquainted with the state of the
churches, whether this be not actually the case in some,
where this method of proceeding has been long establish
ed. But I leave the judicious reader to make his own
remarks on this case, and to determine, whether there be
a just foundation in Scripture or reason for any such state
of things ; which to me, I confess, carries the face of glar
ing absurdity.
And now I commit this whole discourse (under God's
blessing) to the reader's candid reflection and impartial
judgment. I am sensible, it will be "very difficult for
many to be tmly impartial in this affair ; their prejudices
being very great against the doctrine wbich I have main
tained. And, I believe, I myself am the person, who,
above all other upon the face of the earth, have had most
in my circumstances to prejudice me against this doctrine,
and to make me unwilling to receive conviction of its
truth. However, the clear evidence of God's mind in his
word, as things appear to me, has constrained me to think
and act as I have now done. I dare not go contrary to
such texts as these, Lev. x. 10. Jer. xv. 19. Ezek. xxii. 26.
and xliv. 6 — 8. And having been fully persuaded in my
own mind, as to what is the scripture rule in this matter,
after a most careful, painful, and long search, I am willing,
in the faithful prosecution of what appears to me of such
importance and so plainly the mind and will of God, to
resign to his providence, and leave the event in his hand.
It may not be improper to add here, as 1 have often had
suggested to me the probability of my being unswered from
the press : If any one shall see cause to undertake this, I
have these reasonable requests to make to him, viz. That
he would avoid the ungenerous and unmanly artifices used
by too many polemic writers, while they turn aside to vain
jangling, in carping at incidental passages, and displaying
their wit upon some minute particulars, or less material
things, in the author they oppose, with much exclamation,
if possible to excite the ignorant and unwary reader's dis
relish of the author, and to make him appear contemptible,
and so to get the victory that way ; perhaps dwelling upon,
and glorying in, some pretended inconsistencies in some
parts of the discourse, without ever entering thoroughly
into the merits ofthe cause, or closely encountering any of
the main arguments. If any one opposes me from the
press, I desire he would attend to the true state of the
question, and endeavour fairly to take off the force of each
argument, by answering the same directly, and distinctly,
with calm and close reasoning ; avoiding (as much as may
be) both dogmatical assertion and passionate reflection.
Sure I am, I shall not envy him the applause of a victory
over me, however signal and complete, if only gained by
superior light and convincing evidence. — I would also re
quest him to set his name to his performance, that I may
in that respect stand on even ground with him before the
world, in a debate wherein the public is to judge between
us. This will be the more reasonable, in case he should
mingle any thing of accusation with his arguing. It was
the manner even of the heathen Romans, and reputed by
them but just and equal, to have accusers face to face.
May the God of all grace and peace unite us more in
judgment, affection, and practice, that with one heart, and
one mouth, we may glorify his name through Jesus Christ.
Amen.

APPENDIX.
Being a Letter to the Author, ire answer to his request
of information concerning the opinion of Protestant Di
vine's and Churches in general, of the Presbyterians in
Scotland and Dissenters in England in particular, re
specting Five Questions that relate to this controversy.
REV. AND DEAR SIR,
If you look into Mr. Baxter's controversial writings
against Mr. Blake, you will meet with such accounts of
principles and facts, as I think may reasonably give an
inquirer much satisfaction as to the common judgment of
protestant churches and divines in the points you men
tion. I particularly refer you to his Five Disputations
of Right to Sacraments, and the true Nature of Visible
Christianity ; where all or the most of your queries are con
sidered and answered, with a multitude of testimonies pro
duced in favour of sentiments contrary to those of your
excellent predecessor, the late Mr. Stoddard. I have not
said this from any disposition to excuse myself from the
labour of making some further inquiry, if it be thought
needful. And as it may show mv willingness to gratify
your desire, I will now say something on your questions
distinctly, but with as much brevity as I can.
Quest. I. What is the general opinion respecting that
Self-examination required in 1 Cor. xi. 28. Whether
communicants are not here directed to examine themselves
concerning the truth of grace, or their real godliness ?
Answ. This construction of the text, as far as I have had
opportunity to inquire, appears to me very generally re
ceived ; if I may judge by what many celebrated exposi
tors have said on the place, and by what many famous
divines have written in treatises of preparation for the
Lord's supper, besides what is contained in public con
fessions, catechisms, directories, &c. I think Dr. Reynolds,
in his Meditations on the Lord's Supper, has summarily
expressed the common judgment of Calvinists in these
strong lines of his : " The sacrament is but a seal of the
covenant ; and the covenant essentially includes conditions ;
and the condition on our part is faith. No faith, no cove
nant ; no covenant, no seal ; no' seal, no sacrament. — The
matter then of this trial (says he) must be that vital quali
fication, which predisposeth a man for receiving of these
holy mysteries ; and that is faith."
However, I may venture'to be confident, that Mr. Stod
dard's gloss on the text, who tells us in his controverted
sermon, " The meaning is, that a man must come solemnly
to that ordinance, examining what need he has of it," is
quite foreign from the current sense of Calvinist writers.
And, though he makes a different comment in his Appeal
to the Learned, saying, " The examination called for is,
whether they understood the nature of the ordinance, that
so they may solemnly consider what they have to do when
they wait upon God in it," neither can I find any appear
ance of a general consent of the learned and orthodox- to
this new gloss, at least as exhibiting the full meaning of the
text. 1 might easily confront it with numerous authori
ties : but the Palatine Catechism, and that of the West
minster Assembly, with the common explanations and cate-
chizings upon them, may be appealed to as instar omnium.
And I shall only add here, if it be allowed a just expecta
tion that the candidate for the communion examine himself
about the same things at least as the pastor, to whom he
applies for admission, ought to make fee subject of his ex
amination, then it was worth while to hear the opinion of
those unnamed ministers in New England, (among whom
the late Dr. Colman, I have reason to think, was the prin
cipal,) that answered Dr. Mather's Order of the Gospel,
(anno 1700,) who, in the Postscript to their Review, thus
express themselves : " We highly approve — that the pro-
ponant of the Lord's table be examined of his baptismal
vow ; his sense of spiritual wants, sinfulness, and wretch
edness ; his hope, faith, experiences, resolutions through
the grace of God. This, I think, is something beyond
Mr. Stoddard.

480

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part III.

Quest. II, Whether it be the general opinion of those
aforesaid, that some who know themselves to be unregenerate,
and under the reigning power of sin, ought notwithstand
ing, in such a state, to come to the Lord's table ?
Answ. I am aware, Sir, though you have seen fit to take
no notice of it to me, that Mr. Stoddard (in his Doctrine
of Instituted Churches) is peremptory in the affirmative ;
but I have met with no author among Calvinists, at home
or abroad, consenting with him, unless it be Mr. Brake,
and some that were for a promiscuous admission, with lit
tle or no limitation. If divines in general, of the Calvinistic
character, were for such a latitude as Mr. Stoddard's, what
can we suppose to be the reason, that in treating on the
Lord's supper, they so constantly consider it as one of the
rights of the church, belonging to the truly faithful alone,
exclusively of all others ? Why do we hear them declaring,
It is certain that the right of external fellowship resides in
the faithful only : and as to the rest, they are in that com
munion only by accident, and it is also only by accident that
they are suffered there ; but being what they are, they have
not any part in the rights of that society properly belonging
to them ? If they thought the sacrament instituted for
conversion, why do we never find them recommending it
as a converting ordinance, and urging persons to come to
it with that view, who know themselves to be in an uncon
verted state? If they thought that any such have a right
before God, and may come to it with a good conscience, why
do we find them so solemnly warning all that are truly
convinced of their remaining yet in a natural state, to re
frain coming to the Lord's table in their unbelief and im
penitence ; as if they judged it a sinful and dangerous
thing for them to come under such circumstances? I know
Mr. Stoddard, in his Appeal, disputes the fact. But it
has occurred to me in abundance of instances, while re
viewing my authors on this occasion.
Among the foreign protestants in Germany, France, &c.
I shall name but two out of many instances before me.
The Heidelberg or Palatine Catechism, which had the
solemn approbation of the synod of Dort, and was espe
cially praised by the divines of Great Britain ; which has
been in a manner universally received and taught, formerly
in Scotland, and still all over Holland, and by reason of
its excellency has been translated into no less than thirteen
several languages ; this is most express in claiming the
Lord's supper for a special privilege of such as have true
faith and repentance ; and forbidding it to hypocrites, as
well as scandalous persons, declaring that none such ought
to come. See the eighty-first and other questions and
answers, with Ursin's Latin Explications, and De Witte's
English Catechizings thereon. Here, Sir, indeed you have
the judgment of a multitude in one. Another celebrated
book is Claude's Historical Defence of the Reformation ;
in which I meet with repeated declarations of the same
sentiments, perfectly on the negative, side of toe question
in hand, but, I think, too many and too long to be here
transcribed. — The language of some of them I have just
now had occasion to make use of.
As for the church of Scotland, I find they have adopted
the Westminster Confession, Catechisms, and Directory,
which debar all ignorant and ungodly persons from fee
Lord's table, and require every one to examine himself, not
only as to his knowledge, but also his faith, repentance,
love, new obedience, &c. — In their books of discipline, I
observe sundry passages that appropriate the sacrament to
the truly penitent and faithful, as the only proper subjects.
Their national covenant, renewed from time to time, has
this clause ; to the which [true reformed kirk] we join
ourselves willingly, in doctrine, faith, religion, discipline,
and use of the holy sacraments, as lively members of the
same ire Christ our Head, &c. And among the divines of
Scotland, I find many in their sermons, sacramental
speeches, and other discourses, declaring themselves
strongly on the negative part in the question before us, ad
vising to strictness in admission to the Lord's supper, re
nouncing the opinion of its being a converting ordinance,
inviting only the sincere friends of Christ to it, and fre
quently warning professors conscious of reigning sin and
hypocrisy to forbear approaching the Lord's table. I
migbt bring mucb to this purpose from Mr. Andrew
Gray's book of sermons, published anno 1716; and his

sermons printed anno 1746 ; with a preface by Mr. Willi-
son.— So from Mr. Ebenezer Erskine's svnodical sermon,
anno 1732.— And from Mr. Ralph Erskine's sermon on
Isa. xiii. 6. and his discourse on fencing the tables, annex
ed to his sermon on John xvi. 15.— So from Mr. Willi-
son's synodical sermon, anno 1733; where he sets down a
variety' "of searching questions (no less than twenty-seven)
which he advises to be put to proponants, and their an
swers to be waited for, before they are admitted.— The
anonymous author of _ Defence of National Churches
against the Independents, (who is reputed to be Mr. Wil-
lison,) asserts it as a presbyterian principle, that none have
right before God to the complete communion of the church,
but such as have grace ; and that none are to be admitted
but those who are saints, at least in profession ; such as
profess to accept of the offers of Christ's grace, &c. and
confess tbemselves to be sincere. Mr. Aytone, in his lie-
view against Mr. Glas, owns that the Lord's supper is not
a formal mean of conversion, but of further growth and
nourishment to tbose already converted. In the same strain
is Mr. Nasmith's Treatise of the Entail of the Covenant.—
And Mr. Warden's Essay on Baptism. In a word, I find
Mr. Currie (in his synodical sermon, anno 1732) testifying
of the ministers iff Scotland, that they are tender (i. e. cir
cumspect and cautious) in admitting people to the holy
table ofthe Lord; knowing the design ofthe ordinance is
not conversion, but confirmation ; and he observes, that all
who approve themselves to God here, will a thousand times
rather choose to have, was it but one table or half a table
of honest communicants, true believers and real saints, than
have a hundred tables, by admitting any that are unworthy,
(or Christless souls,as he anon characterizes them,)of whom
there are not moral evidences of their fitness for this holy
ordinance. And for the commendable practice of the
church of Scotland, in being pointed and particular in de
barring the unworthy from this ordinance, (says he,) God
forbid ever it turn into desuetude. I think I mav here not
unfitly subjoin those remarkable passages in Mr. Ander
son's excellent Defence of the Presbyterians, against Mr.
Rhind ; where he informs' us, they look upon this holy ordi
nance as the common privilege of the faithful ; and there
fore they usually fence the Lord's table, in the words of
Scripture, 1 Cor. vi.9. or some such-like. To exclude the
impenitent from the privilege of gospel-mysteries ; to de
bar those from the Lord's table, whom the Lord has, by
the express sentence of his word, debarred out of the king
dom, of heaven, is what every one, who is not quite lost m
impiety, must own to be not only luwful, but a duty.
Upon which I beg leave to observe, according to this prin
ciple I do not see but that a man who with apparent signs
of credibility confesses himself habitually impenitent,
ought to be debarred from the Lord's table : and surely,
by parity of reason, he that knows himself to be unregene
rate, ought to refrain coming, since there can be no true
repentance without regeneration. 1 think we have no just
grounds to suppose Mr. Stoddard's principle in this mat
ter has hitherto any general prevalence in the church of
Scotland. And now to pass over to England, neither do I find
reason to think the dissenters there in general are for Mr.
Stoddard's latitude. The Assembly of Divines pronounce
all the ungodly, as well as ignorant, unworthy of the Lord's
table; direct to preparation for it, by examining ourselves
of our being in Christ, Sac. And though they declare this
sacrament appointed for the relief even of the weak and
doubting Christian, who unfeignedly desires to be found in
Christ ; and having directed such a one to bewail his un
belief and labour to have his doubts resolved, thev assert
that so doing he may and ought to come to the Lord's sup
per, to be further strengthened : yet I do not find any ap
pearance of a hint, as if others who -know themselves to be
in a natural state, or are conscious of their being certainly
graceless, may and ought to come to this ordinance, that
they may be converted. Nay, they expressly declare of
all ungodly persons, that while they remain such, they
cannot without great sin against Christ partake of those
holy mysteries.— As to particular divines, I find multi
tudes of them among the dissenters, in later as well as
former times, expressing the same sentiments : distinguish
ing between natural and instituted duties, between initial

App. Q. II.

RESPECTING THE OBLIGATION OF THE UNREGENERATE.

481

and confirming means, between special ordinances and
common : and declaring the Lord's supper a disciple-privi
lege, peculiar to such as have disciple-properties, arid ad
monishing as well the ciose hypocrite, as fee more gross,
of the sin and danger of coming to it in his unregenerate
state, impenitent and unbelieving. Thus Mr. Bolton, in
his discourse on the Wedding Supper and the Wedding
Garment, warns the graceless not to come to the Lord s
supper ; affirming, that an unsanctified presence will be
found as bad as a profane absence. — Mr. Baxter, in his
Five Disputations, has much that runs in the same strain ;
so in his Reformed Liturgy, and in his Christian Concord,
where we have his brethren joining their testimony wife
his. Likewise Mr. Chamock, in his discourse of the Sub
jects ofthe Lord's Supper — Mr. Palmer, in his Scripture-
Rail' to the Lord's Table — Mr. Saunders, in his Anti-
Diatribe — Mr. Langley, in his Suspension Reviewed — Mr.
Doolittle, Mr. Henry, Dr. Earle, and others, in their
books on the Lord's Supper — Mr. Shower, in his Sacra
mental Discourses — Mr. Flavel, in his sermon on Gospel-
Unity, and other pieces — Mr. Philip Henry, and Mr.
Trosse, in the accounts of their Lives — Dr. Calamy, in his
discourse on Vows, and his Defence of Nonconformity-
Mr. Simon Browne, in toe Continuation of Henry's Ex
position, on 1 Cor. xi. 28 — Dr. Harris, in his discourse on
Self-Dedication — Dr. Jennings, in his sermons to Young
People. — I could, from all these authors, cite passages
much to the purpose : but it would be too tedious. Yet
I will give you a few hints from some others. — Dr.
Williams, in his Gospel-Truth Staled, says, Though a man
had it revealed to him that he is one of the elect, yet so
long as he remains unregenerate, he has no right to partake
of the Lord's supper.— Dr. Guyse, in his late sermon at
Mr. Gibbons's ordination, observes, toat men being churcli-
members supposes them already to have a good work begun
in them, and to be partakers of christian love, even such
as proceeds from faith, in a prevailing degree ; and persons
(says he) that have nothing of this, ought not to be church-
members. — Mr. Hall, in his Exhortation on the same oc
casion, remarks, that the seals of the covenant are to be
used as discriminating signs ofthe real separation of true
believers from the world ; and urges to have the fence kept
up, which Christ has set about his church, that it may ap
pear to be a body wholly distinct from the world : God's
house being erected for the entertainment, not of hypocrites
and dead sinners, but of the living, in Jerusalem. — But
says Dr. Watts, in his Humble Attempt, it is true, this
cannot be practised universally and perfectly here on earth,
so as to prevent some secret sinners making their way into
our separate congregations, and joining with us in the most
solemn ordinances ; yet he declares such not really worthy
of any room or place in the house of God. — And in his
Holiness of Times, Places, and People, the Doctor ob
serves, The visible christian church is founded on a sup
position, that the members of it are, or should appear to be,
members of the invisible : and none (says he) are to be ad
mitted into the visible church, or esteemed complete mem
bers of it, but those who make such a declaration and
profession of their faith in Christ and their avowed sub
jection to him, as may be supposed in a judgment of
charity to manifest them to be real believers, true subjects
of his spiritual kingdom, and members of the invisible
church. — I find Dr. Doddridge in the same sentiments,
by what he says in his Family Expositor. Thus, on the
case of Ananias and Sapphira, he has this note, The church
is never happier, than when the sons of falsehood are deter
red from intruding into it : if its members are less numerous,
it is a sufficient balance, that it is more pure. And on
Simon's case, he pronounces it to be ire vain for men to
profess themselves Christians, in vain to submit to baptism,
&c. if their heart he not right with God. And such persons
being admitted to distinguishing ordinances, he calls an
evil, in the present state of things unavoidable; wishing
for the happy medium, between prostituting divine ordi
nances by a foolish credulity, and defrauding the children
ofthe household of their bread, by a rigorous severity and
mistaken caution. He every where represents the Lord's
supper as the sacrament of nutrition, a reviving and nou
rishing ordinance; but never that I can find, as a rege
nerating or converting one. Upon the case of Judas, the
vol. i. 2 I

Doctor observes, that if he had truly sta'.sd the order of
the story, then Judas certainly went out before the Eucha
rist was instituted : and indeed one cannot reasonably
suppose, Christ would have commanded him to drink of
this cup as the blood shed for him for the remission of sin's,
when he had just befbre'been declaring in effect, that his
sins should never he forgiven.— By which observation, I
think, Dr. Doddridge has quite demolished one of the
most plausible pleas in favour of the secret and conscious
hypocrite's claim to the Lord's supper.
In fine, even those who appear advocates for a latitude
in admissions to the communion, I observe, generally in
the course of the argument offer such distinctions, or make
such concessions, as seem by fair consequence a giving up
of the point, at least as stated in the present question. For
they usually distinguish between a right in foro Dei and
in foro ecclesia ; accordingly treat these as two different
questions, Who ought to come ? and, Who ought to be ad
mitted ? considering the latter as an ecclesiastical case, and
here they assert a latitude ; but the former, as a case of
conscience, of private reference only, and here they grant a
limitation. How large soever their principles, while taking
the case in its ecclesiastical view, yet I have met with very
few divines, that taking it as a private case of conscience,
have gone Mr. Stoddard's length, in asserting, that some
unsanctified men have right before God to the Lord's sup
per, and may come with a good conscience, yea, ought to
come, notwithstanding they know themselves at the same
time to be in a natural condition. This he declares in his
Doctrine of Instituted Churches, and confirms in his Ser-
mon and Appeal. But then he has made some concessions,
which seem to be subversive of his opinion. For he ex
pressly allows, that the sacrament by institution supposes
communicants to be visible saints ; and this title of visible
saints he assigns to " such as have a visible union to Christ,
such as are in the judgment of rational charity believers,
such as carry themselves so that there is reason to look
upon them to be saints." Now, taking the case as a private
case of conscience, (in which light only Mr. Stoddard pro
fesses to have designed to consider it in his sermon, and
not at all as an ecclesiastical case,) I think, this visibility of
saintship immediately respects the proponant for the Lord's
table, and must be referred to his own private judgment of
himself. But then, how can there be a visibility of saint
ship in the eye of fee man's own conscience, when at the
same time he knows himself to be in a natural condition ?
Or how can a man come to the Lord's table with a good
conscience, as having right before God, while he cannot
form so much as a judgment of rational charity for him
self; seeing he carries so, in tbe view of his own conscience,
that he has no reason to look on himself to be a saint, nay,
even knows he is still in a natural state, and therefore in
the eye of his own impartial judgment is not such a one
as the sacrament by institution supposes the communicant
to be? Moreover, Mr. Stoddard, in describing visible
saints, inserts into their character a serious prof ession ofthe
true religion, which he sometimes calls a profession of
faith ana repentance, morally sincere: and in his Doctrine
of Instituted Churches, (p. 19.) he lays down a remarkable
position, in these words, such a profession as being
sincere makes a man a real saint, being morally
sincere makes a man a visible saint. Now ac
cording to this, it seems to me, the profession itself, whe
ther evangelically or morally sincere, is always of a uniform
tenor ; having one and the same thing for the matter of it ;
and not respecting, in the different cases, a religion specifi
cally different, or a faith and repentance of a higher and a
lower kind. But then it is quite beyond me to compre
hend, how a man who knows himself to be in a natural
condition, can be so much as morally sincere in his pro
fession, while it is in its matter and tenor such a profession
as being (evangelically) sincere makes a man a real saint.
For if lie knows himself to be in a natural condition, he
then as certainly knows he hath not (in the principle or
exercise) that faith and repentance, which is the just matter
of such a profession : and how therefore can he be reason
ably supposed, with any. degree of moral sincerity, to make
such a profession, when for the matter of it, it is the very
same profession he would make, if he knew himself to be a
real saint ? Can a person in any sound gospel sense pro-

432

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part III.

fess himself a saint or believing penitent, and herein speak
the truth with a common moral honesty, while yet he
knows himself to be destitute of all such characters in the
sight of God and conscience, being still in a natural con
dition, and under the dominion of unbelief and impenitence ?
For my own part, I must confess this a difficulty in Mr.
Stoddard's scheme, that I am not capable of solving. His
favourite hypothesis, I think, must fall, if his position
stands, and his concessions be abode by; wbich serve
clearly to determine the present question in the negative,
agreeable to the general sense of protestant churches and
divines. Quest. III. Whether it be not the general opinion, that
persons admitted to the Lord's table ought to profess
saving faith and repentance ; meaning that faith and re
pentance, which are the terms of the covenant of grace ?
Answ. I believe, after what has been already offered,
we need be at no loss to know the mind of the generality
respecting toe subject of this inquiry. Were toere occasion
for it, I could easily produce a cloud of witnesses, to evidence
that toe general opinion is on the affirmative side, in this
question. Repeated searches have been made by diligent
and impartial inquirers, who though of varying judgment
and practice in church-discipline, yet agree in their re
ports : and from them I will give you the following attes
tations. Mr. Lob (in his True Dissenter) tells us, It is the judg
ment of all fee Nonconformists, that nothing less than the
profession of saving faith, credibly significant of the thing
professed, gives rifpit to church-communion. And tois he
declares to be toe rale of all protestants in general. He
brings even Mr. Humphrey (though opposite in judgment)
for his voucher : who acknowledges, that the visible church
is defined by a profession of true regenerate faith, and of
no less than toat, according to the most general opinion of
protestant divines. He speaks of it as the common opinion,
that a profession of no less than true grace or justifying
faith is the rule of admission to the church-sacraments.
And though Mr. Humphrey went off from toe received
opinion, yet could he not come into Mr. Blake's notions
in this matter, who also had gone off from it, nor hope for
their vindication : hence he makes that challenge, What
man is there, that dares revive Mr. Blake's cause, and de
fend it against Mr. Baxter's right to sacraments ?
Mr. Baxter in this his book very copiously argues a
profession of saving faith, as the rule of admission to
the sacraments, and much insists on its being so by the
unanimous consent of judicious divines. He tells us, Mr.
Gataker in his books has largely proved this by a multi
tude of quotations from protestant writers. And he adds
his own testimony, repeatedly saying, It is indeed their
most common doctrine — It is the common protestant doc
trine. And again, Certain I am, this is the common doctrine
of reformed divines. He subjoins, I must profess, that I
do not know of any one protestant divine, reputed ortho
dox, of the contrary judgment, before Dr. ^ ard and Mr.
Blake, though some papists and Arminians I knew of
toat mind. And again, (beside Sir Henry Vane,) he says,
All that I know of, since Dr. Ward, is Mr. Blake, Mr.
Humphrey, and one John Timson ; and John Timson,
Mr. Humphrey, and Mr. Blake. He alleges Mr. Vines,
as thus witnessing in toe case on his side. To this pur
pose all our learned divines have given their suffrage : I
need not authors or churches. It is so plain a case, that I
wonder those [of the contrary opinion] have not taken
notice of it, there is an army to a man against them.
Mr. Langley, in his Suspension Reviewed, observes, The
concurrent judgment of divines, English and foreign,
episcopal and presbyterian, that a man of vast and
digested reading, the learned Mr. Baxter, hath demonstrat
ed at large in sixty testimonies ; sundry of which have
many in them, being the judgment of many churches and
many learned men therein; and more might easily be
brought. In short, he calls it the old protestant doctrine
asserted against the papists ; and wonders at the confi
dence of the men, who tell us, against our own eyes, that
it is a novelism.
To these attestations I subjoin that of our Mr. JVIitchel,
(in his Introduction before the Defence of the Synod, 1662,)

who while asserting a different latitude of the two sacra
ments, yet pleads for strictness in admissions to the Lord's
table ; and testifies, It is most evident, toat godly reform
ing divines have in their doctrine unanimously taught, and
in toeir practice (many of them) endeavoured, a strict
selection of those who should be admitted to the Lord's
supper. I think it may be not improperly observed here,
that in a manuscript, drawn up by this eminent person for
his own satisfaction, and inserted in toe account of his life,
he has left his solemn testimony against a lax mode of pro
fession, (exclusive of all examinations and confessions, of a
practical and experimental nature,) as having been found
by plentiful experience a nurse of formality and irreligion.
At fee same time declaring his judgment, with a particular
eye to the churches of New England, feat the power of
godliness will be lost, if only doctrinal knowledge and out
ward behaviour come to be accounted sufficient for a title
to all churcb-privileges ; and toe use of practical confes
sions and examinations of men's spiritual estate be laid
aside. For (says he) that which people see to be publicly
required and held in reputation, that will they look after,
and usually no more. In another place he observes, this
will not only lose toe power of godliness, but in a little
time bring in profaneness and rum the churches, these two
ways. (1 .) Election of ministers will soon be earned by
a formal looser sort. (2.) The exercise of discipline will
by this means be impossible. — And discipline failing, pro
faneness riseth like a flood. Agreeably he says elsewhere;
Certain it is, toat we stand for the purity of toe churches,
when we stand for such qualifications as we do, in those
whom we would admit to full communion ; and do with
stand those notions and reasonings that would infer a lax-
ness therein, which hath apparent peril in it. In sum,
(says he,) we make account feat we shall be near about
the middle-way of church reformation, if we keep baptism
within the compass of the non-excommunicable, and toe
Lord's supper within toe compass of those that have (unto
charity) somewhat of the power of godliness, or grace in
exercise. For Mr. Mitchel, as he thought faith in the
special and lively exercise thereof necessary to a safe and
comfortable participation ofthe Lord's supper, so he judged
an appearance of this unto rational charity, judging by
positive sensible signs and evidences, justly required in or
der to admission into full communion. Whereas, he
thought baptism annexed to initial faith, or faith in the being
of it; the charitable judgment whereof (says he) runs
upon a great latitude ; and he conceived fee same strict
nesses to outward signs, not necessary unto a charitable pro
bable judgment, or hope of the being of faith, which entitles
to baptism, as of that growth and special exercise of faith,
which is requisite to toe Lord's supper. These are the
main distinctions, on which he grounded his opinion of a
different latitude of toe two sacraments. For I must ob
serve, as strenuously as he pleads for a various extent, as
to the subjects of them, he never supposes any adult regu
larly admittable to either sacrament, but such as in eccle
siastical reputation sustain the character of believers ; such
as in the account of a rational charity (judging by proba
ble signs) have toe being of regeneration ; or as he
variously expresses it, have true faith, in the judgment of
charity ; and do in some measure perform the duties of
faith and obedience, as to church-visibility and charitable
hope ; and therefore are such as the church ought to receive
and hold as heirs of the grace of life, according to the
rules of christian charity. Though it seems Mr. Shepard
before him speaks of his church charity and experimental
charity ; so Mr. Mitchel had his positive charity and his
negative, and conducted his judgment and administrations
accordingly, in admitting persons to the one sacrament or
the other. I should not have been so prolix and particular
here, but that I thought it might serve to prepare the way
for a more easy, short, and intelligible answer to your re
maining queries.
Quest. IV. Whether it be the general opinion of pro
testant churches and divines, in the case of adult persons,
that the terms of admission to both sacraments are tlie
same? An^w. I presume, Sir, the question does not respect a
sameness in the degree of qualifications, experiences, and

App. Q. IV.

ABOUT TERMS OF ADMISSION TO BOTH SACRAMENTS.

483

evidences ; but only a sameness in kind, or for the sub
stance and general nature of things. I suppose, you had
no view here to any such critical distinction as feat before
mentioned, between an initial faith and a grown faith ; or
between the simple being of faith, which entitleth to bap
tism, and toe special exercise of faith, which fits for the
Lord's supper ; nor aim at a nice adjustment of the
several cliaracters of visibility, or motives of credibility, in
the one case and the other, but only intend in general to
inquire, whether persons admittable to one or other sacra
ment, ought to profess true justifying faith, and not be
admitted on the profession of any faith of a kind inferior
and specifically different. Now, taking this to be toe scope
of your question, I have good reason to apprehend, that
the generality of protestant churches and divines, of the
Calvinistic persuasion especially, have declared toemselves
for the affirmative.
I think all that hold the visible christian church ought to
consist of such as make a visible and credible profession of
faith and holiness, and appear to rational charity real
members of the church invisible, (which is toe common
language of protestants,) are to be understood as in prin
ciple exploding the conceit of a conscious unbeliever's
right before God to special church-ordinances, and as
denying toe apparent unbeliever's right before the church
to admission, whether to one sacrament or the otoer. I
observe, Eadem est ratio utriusque sacramenti, is a maxim
(in its general notion) espoused by toe several contending
parties in this controversy about a right to sacraments.
That a credible profession of saving faith and repentance
is necessary to baptism, in toe case of the adult, I can
show, by the authority of Claude's approved Defence of
the Reformation, to be the general opinion of French
protestants ; and by the Palatine Catechism, by the Ley-
den Professors' Synopsis, &c. to be the prevailing judg
ment of toe reformed in Germany, Holland, and foreign
parts. And for the Dissenters in England, that toey are in
general of toe same judgment, I might prove from the
Assembly of Divines' Confession, Catechisms, and Direc
tory ; and from the Heads of Agreement assented to by
the United Ministers, formerly distinguished by the names
of Presbyterian and Congregational ; as also by a large
induction of particular instances among divines of every
denomination, would it not carry me to too great a length.
I find Mr. Lob (in his True Dissenter) assuring us in
general, " It is held by toe dissenters, toat notoing less
than the profession of a saving faith gives a right to bap
tism." Nor do I see, by their writings of a later date and
most in vogue, any just grounds to suppose a general
change of sentiments among them. I will mention two or
three modems of distinguished name. Dr. Harris (in his
Self- Dedication) tells us, The nature of the Lord's supper
plainly supposes faith ; and toat none but real Christians
have right in the sight of God ; though a credible profes
sion entitles to it in the sight of the church, who cannot
know the heart. And he declares it the same faith, which
qualifies the adult, both for baptism and fof the Lord's
supper; there being the same common nature to both
sacraments, and the latter only a recognising the former.
The late Dr. Watts (in his Holiness of Times, Places, and
People) says, The christian church receives none but upon
profession of true faith in Christ, and sincere repentance ;
none but toose who profess to be members of toe invisible
church, and in a judgment of charity are to be so esteem
ed. Our entrance into it is appointed to be by a visible
profession of our being born of God, of real faith in Christ,
of true repentance, and inward holiness. In fine, to name
no more, Dr. Doddridge (in his Family Expositor, on
Acts viii. 37.) supposes a credible profession of their faith
in Christ required of fee adult in apostolic times, in order
to their being admitted to baptism ; even such (says he) as
implied their cordially subjecting their souls to the gospel,
and their being come to a point, so as to give up toem
selves to Christ with all their heart.
And for the church of Scotland, Mr. Anderson, who
well understood their principles and practice, assures us,
(in his Defence »f them,) that presbyterians will not
baptize without a previous profession or sponsion. To the
adult (says he) it is not only necessary (as it is also in
2 i 2

infants) that they be internally sanctified, but also that
they make an outward profession, of which baptism is
the badge and token. To' justify this, he observes con
cerning the catechumens in primitive times, that during
all that state they were probationers, not only as to their
knowledge, but piety ; and were obliged, before they could
be admitted to baptism, to give moral evidences of the
grace of God in their hearts. And he advances it as a
presbyterian principle, that faith and repentance are pre-
required to baptism, in adult persons at least. By this he
points out the true matter of baptismal profession : and
then in opposition to such as pretend baptism to be a
converting ordinance, he observes, If they can have faith
and repentance without the Spirit and spiritual regenera
tion, which they say is not obtained but in and by baptism,
I do not see w-hy they may not go to heaven without toe
Spirit and spiritual regeneration : for I am sure, repent
ance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ,
is the sum of the gospel. — Mr. Warden, another of their
noted writers, (in his Essay on Baptism^) says in the name
of presbyterians, We think that baptism supposeth men
Christians ; else they have no right to baptism, the seal of
Christianity ; all seals, in toeir nature, supposing the
thing that is sealed. He that is of adult age, is to profess
his faith in Christ, and his compliance with the whole
device of salvation, before he can have the seal of toe
covenant administered to him. The author of the Defence
of National Churches, (thought to be Mr. Willison,)'says,
I know nothing more requisite to admission to the Lord's
supper, in foro ecclesiastico, than unto baptism in an adult
person ; they being both seals of the same covenant. And
he thinks fee objects of church-fellowship are " all who
profess to accept the offers of Christ's grace, with subjec
tion to his ordinances, and a suitable walk, and who
confess themselves sincere."
I have reserved Mr. Baxter for my last witness, because
his attestation is comprehensive and of a general aspect.
In his Disputations of Right to Sacraments, and other
writings, he repeatedly declares, " It hath been the con
stant principle and practice of the universal church of
Christ, to require a profession of saving faith and repent
ance, as necessary before they would baptize ; and not to
baptize any upon the profession of any lower kind of faith.
He must shut his eyes against the fullest evidence of
history and church-practice, who will deny this. I desire
those otherwise-minded to help me to an instance of any
one approved baptism, since Christ's time or his apostles,
upon the account of a faith that was short of justifying,
and not upon the profession of a justifying faith. Hitherto
this is not done by them, but the contrary is fully done
by others, and yet they confidently except against my
opinion as a novelty. Mr. Gataker's books have multi
tudes of sentences recited out of our protestant divines,
toat affirm this which they call new. It is indeed the
common protestant doctrine, that the sacraments do pre
suppose remission of sins, and our faith ; that they are
instituted to signify these as ire being ; and do solemnize
and publicly own and confirm the mutual covenant already
entered in heart. The Jesuits themselves do witness this
to be the ordinary protestant doctrine. — It seems not
necessary to mention the judgment of our reformed
divines, as expressed in any of their particular sayings,
when their public confessions and practices are so satisfac
tory herein. Mr. Baxter, however, recites a multitude of
their testimonies ; producing the judgment of Luther,
Calvin, Beza, Pet. Martyr, Piscator, Melancthon, Altin-
gius, Junius, Polanus, Zanchius, Ursinus, Paraus, Buca-
nus, Musculus, Professores Leyd. et Salm. Wollebius,
Vossius, Wendeline, Keckerman, Bullinger, Alsted,
Deodate, Dr. Ames, Dr. Moulin ; The Catechism of the
Church of England, and English Divines ; Bp. Usher,
Dr. Willet, Dr. Fulk, Dr. Prideaux, Dr. Whitaker, Mr.
Yates, Perkins, Cartwright, &c. ; The Scottish Church in
their Heads of Church-policy, and Divines of Scotland ;
Mr. Gillespie, Mr. Rutherford, and Mr. Wood; The
Westminister Assembly of Divines, their Confession,
Catechisms, and Directory ; The Annot. of some of those
Divines, &c. And for the reformed churches in general
(Mr. Baxter observes) it is past all question, by their
constant practice, that they require the profession of a

484

QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMUNION.

Part III.

saving christian faith, and take not up with any lower.
And respecting the then practice in England, he says, This
is manifest by our daily administration of baptism. I
never heard (says he) any man baptize an infant but upon
the parent's, or susceptor's, or offerer's profession of a
justifying faith.
This leads to your last inquiry.
Quest. V. Whether it be the general opinion, that the
same qualifications are required in a parent bringing his
child to baptism, as in an adult person for his own admis
sion to this ordinance ?
Answ. Here, Sir, I suppose you intend only the same
qualifications in kind; or a profession and visibility, in
some degree, of the same sort of faith and repentance;
meaning that which is tmly evangelical and saving. And
understanding you in this sense, I am persuaded, by all I
can observe, that the generality of protestants are in the
affirmative ; not assenting to a specific and essential differ
ence, whatever circumstantial and gradual disparity they
may allow, between toe two cases you mention.
Mr. Baxter, speaking of the judgment and practice of
the christian fathers, tells us, feat faith (justifying faife,
and not another kind of faith) was supposed to be in the
parent, for himself and his seed : because toe condition or
qualification of the infant is but this, that he be the seed of
a believer. And he thinks the generality of the reformed
are in these sentiments. He declares his own judgment in
full concurrence herewith, and backs toe same' with a
variety of arguments, in his Five Disputations, and otlier
writings. He observes, it seems strange to him that any
should imagine, a lower belief in the parent will help his
child to a title to baptism, toan that which is necessary to
his own, if he were unbaptized ; because mutual consent is
necessary to mutual covenant, and the covenant must be
mutual. No man hath right to God's part, toat refuseth
his own : they that have no right to remission of sins, have
no right given them by God to baptism. If God be not
at all actually obliged in covenant to any ungodly man,
then he is not obliged to give him baptism : but God is
not obliged so to him. Most of our divines make the
contrary doctrine Pelagianism, that God should be obliged
to man in a state of nature in such a covenant. If the
parent's title be questionable, (says he,) the infant's is so
too ; because the ground is the same : and it is from the
parent toat the child must derive it ; nor can any man
give that which he hath not. We ought not (says he) to
baptize those persons, or their children, as theirs, who are
visible members of the kingdom of the devil, or that do
not so much as profess their forsaking the devil's kingdom :
but such are all that profess not a saving faith. If such
are not visibly ire the kingdom of the devil, at least they
are not visibly out of it. All that are duly baptized, are
baptized into Christ ; therefore they are supposed to possess
that faith by which men are united or ingrafted into
Christ : but that is only justifying faith. Tell me (says
he) where any man was ever said in Scripture to be united
to Christ, without saving faith, or profession of it. In a
word, Mr. Baxter takes occasion to declare himself in this
manner : If Mr. Blake exacts not a profession of saving
faith and repentance, I say he makes foul work in the
church. And when such foul work shall be voluntarily
maintained, and toe word of God abused for the defile
ment of the church and ordinances of God, it is a greater
scandal to toe weak, and to the schismatics, and a greater
reproach to the church, and a sadder case to considerate
men, than the too common pollutions of others, which
are merely through negligence, but not justified and de
fended. We are told by other impartial inquirers, that all the
reformed do in their directories and practices require pro
fessions, as well as promises, of parents bringing their

children to baptism; even professions of present faith
and repentance, as well as promises of future obedience;
and these not merely of fee moral, but the evangelical
kind. The judgment of the church of Scotland may be
known by their adopting the Confession, Catechisms, and
Directory of the Assembly of Divines ; who, when they
require a parental profession, (as in their Catechisms, &c.)
intend it not of any lower kind, than a true gospel faith
and obedience. The mind of the dissenters may be very
much judged of by the reformed liturgy, presented in
their name upon King Charles's restoration; where
parents' credible profession of their faith, repentance, and
obedience, is required in order to the baptism of their
children. I might bring further evidence from the writ
ings of particular divines among them, ancient and modem ;
but I must for brevity omit this. Only I will give you a
specimen in two or three hints. Mr. Charnock, that great
divine, observes, " Baptism supposes faith in the adult, and
the profession of faith in toe parent for his child." The
late eminent Dr. Watts, in his Holiness of Times, Places,
and People, thus declares himself, with respect to the
infants of true believers : " In my opinion, so far as they
are any way members of toe visible christian church, it is
upon supposition of their being (with toeir parents) mem
bers of the invisible church of God."
On the whole, as to our fathers here in New England,
it is true, they asserted a baptism-right in parents for them
selves and children, whom yet they excluded from full
communion ; fee ground of which difference was hinted
before : and they denied a parity of reason between the
two cases now in view, on some accounts. Their chief
ground was, that adult baptism requires a measure of
visible moral fitness or inherent holiness in the recipient ;
whereas, infant baptism requires nothing visible in its
subject, but a relative fitness or federal holiness, the for-
malis ratio of infant membership, accruing from God's
charter of grace to his church, taking in the infant seed
with the believing parent. Baptism they supposed to run
parallel with regular membership ; and the child of such
a parent entitled to this covenant-seal in its own right, on
the foot of a distinct personal membership, derivative in
point of being, but independent for its duration, and for
the privileges annexed to it by divine institution. How
ever, they certainly owned parental profession, as belonging
to the due order and just manner of administration, both
meet and needful. Accordingly they provided, that parents
claiming covenant-privileges for their children, should own
their covenant-state, have a measure of covenant-qualifi
cations, and do covenant-duties, in some degree, to the
satisfaction of a rational charity. And it ought to be
remembered, toey have left it as their solemn judgment,
that even taking baptism-right for a right of fitness in foro
ecclesiastico, still the parents whose children they claimed
baptism for, were such as must be allowed to have a title
to it for themselves, in case they had remained unbaptized :
looking upon them, although not duly fitted for the sacra
ment of communion and confirmation, yet sufficiently so
for the sacrament, of union and initiation ; professors in
their infancy parentally, and now personally, in an initial
way ; appearing Abraham's children, in some measure of
truth, to a judicious charity; justly therefore baptizable,
in their persons and offspring, by all the rules of the
gospel. I am not here to argue upon the justness of this
scheme of thought on the case ; but only to represent fee
fact in a genuine light.
I have no room, Sir, for any further remarks. But must
conclude, with christian salutes, and the tender of every
brotherly office, from Your very affectionate Friend
and humble Servant,
Boston, THOMAS FOXCROFT.
June 26, 1749.

MISREPRESENTATIONS CORRECTED,

TRUTH VINDICATED,

A REPLY

REV. MR. SOLOMON WILLIAMS'S BOOK,

ENTITLED,

THE TRUE STATE OF THE QUESTION CONCERNING THE QUALIFICATIONS NECESSARY TO LAWFUL
COMMUNION IN THE CHRISTIAN SACRAMENTS.
Prov. xii. 17. He that speaketh truth, showeth forth righteousness.
Chap. xxii. 20,21. Have I not written to thee excellent things in counsels and knowledge; that I might make thee know tbe certainty of the words
of truth, that thou migbtest answer the words of truth to them that send unto thee ?

THE PREFACE.

Since 1 have been so repeatedly charged by Mr. Williams with indecent and injurious treatment of Mr. Stoddard,
(whom doubtless I ought to treat with much respect,) I may expect, from what appears of Mr. Williams's disposition
this way, to be charged with ill treatment of him too. I desire therefore that it may be justly considered by the reader,
what is, and what is not, injurious or unhandsome treatment of an author in a controversy. And here I would crave
leave to say, that I humbly conceive, a distinction ought to be made between opposing and exposing a cause, or the
arguments used to defend it, and reproaching persons. He is a weak writer indeed, who undertakes to confute an
opinion, but dares not expose the nakedness and absurdity of it, nor the weakness or inconsistence of the metbods
taken and arguments used by any to maintain it, for fear he should be guilty of speaking evil of these things, and
be charged with reproaching them. If an antagonist is angry at this, he thereby gives his readers too much occasion
of suspicion towards himself, as chargeable with weakness, or bitterness.
I therefore now give notice, that I have taken full liberty in this respect; only endeavouring to avoid pointed and
exaggerating expressions. If to set forth what I suppose to be fee true absurdity of Mr. Williams's scheme, or any
part of it, that it may be viewed justly in all its nakedness ; withal observing the weakness of toe defence he has made,
not fearing to show wherein it is weak, and how the badness of his cause obliges him to be inconsistent wife himself,
inconsistent with his own professed principles in religion, and with things conceded and asserted by him in the book
especially under consideration ; and declaring particularly wherein I think his arguments fail, whether it be in begging
the question, or being impertinent and beside the question, or arguing in effect against himself; also observing wherein
Mr. W. has made misrepresentations of words or things ; I say, if to do these things be reproaching him, and injurious
treatment of him, then I have injured him. — But I think I should be foolish, if I were afraid to do that (and to do it
as thoroughly as I can) which must be the design of my writing, if I write at all in opposition to his tenets, and to the
defence he makes of them.
Indeed if I misrepresent what he says, in order to make it appear in the worst colours; altering his words to another
sense, to make them appear more ridiculous ; or adding other words, that carry the sense beyond the proper import of
his words, to heighten the supposed absurdity, and give me greater advantage to exclaim ; if I set myself to aggravate
matters, and strain them beyond bounds, making mighty things of mere trifles ; or if I use exclamations and invectives,
instead of arguments ; then Mr. W. might have just cause to complain, and fee reader would have just reason for dis
gust. But whether I have done so, or not, must be judged by the reader ; of whom I desire nothing more than the
most impartial and exact consideration of the merits of the cause, and examination of the force and weight of every
argument. I desire, that no bitter reproachful invectives, no vehement exclamations, no supercilious assuming words
and phrases, may be taken for reasoning, on either side. If the reader thinks he finds any such in what I have written,
I am willing he should set them aside as nothing worth ; carefully distinguishing between them, and the strength of
the argument. I desire not, that the cause should be judged of by the skill which either Mr. W. or I do manifest, in
flinging one at another.
If in places where the argument pinches most, and there is the greatest appearance of strong reason, in Mr. W's
book, I do, (as some other disputants,) instead of entering thoroughly into the matter, begin to flounce and fling, and
divert the reader's attention to the argument, by the noise of big words, or magisterial and disdainful expressions ; let
the reader take it (as justly he may) for a shrewd sign of a consciousness of the weakness of my cause in that particu-

486 ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS. Part L
lar, or at least of a distrust of my own ability to defend myself well in the reader's apprehension, and to come off with
a good grace any other way. , ,- „,„.„.
In this case, I shall not think it any injustice done me by the reader, though he suspects that I feel myselt pressed,
and begin to be in trouble, for fear I should not seem to come off like a champion, if I should trust to mere reasoning.
I can uprightly say, I never have endeavoured by such means to evade a proper consideration ot any part ot Mr.
W.'s reasoning ; nor have designedly contrived, in this or any other method, to free myself from the trouble ot a just
answer to anv thing material in his book ; and I have been especially careful to speak most particularly to the main
parts of his scheme, and such of his reasonings as I could suppose those of his readers who are on his side, would be
_io«t likelv to have their chief dependence on, and to think most difficult to be answered. w, ...
With regard to my method in this reply, I judged it most convenient to reduce my remarks on Mr. W . s principles,
and the parts of his scheme, and kinds of arguing, which repeatedly appear in various parts of his book, to their
proper heads. I thought this tended to give the reader a clearer and more comprehensive view ot the whole contro
versy, and the nature of the arguments ; and that it also would make my work the shorter. For otherwise, 1 must
have" had the same things, or things of the same nature, to have observed often, as I found them repeated in different
parts of this book, and the same remarks to make over and over again.— And that the reader may not be without any
advantages which he might have had in the other method, of keeping, in my reply, to the order in which things he in
the book answered, following my author from one page and paragraph to another, I have therefore subjoined a table,
by which the reader may readily turn to what is said on each particular, that is wont to be brought into this debate,
on one side or the other.* • T ,
With regard to my citations from Mr. W.'s book, I have never designedly altered his words : and where 1 have lor
brevity's sake referred to any sentiment of his, without citing the words at large, I have used care not to change or
heighten the sense, or in any respect to vary from the just import of what he delivers. And that the reader may himself
more easily and readily judge of the fairness of ray citations and references, I have mentioned the page, and the part of the
page, where the thing referred to is to be found : supposing each page to be divided into five equal parts, I have noted the
several parts ofthe page by the letters a. b. c. d. e. So that when I have referred to the top of the page, or the first
fifth part of it, I have mentioned the number of the page, and added the letter a. to the number : and if the middle, or
third fifth part, then I have added the letter c— and so of the rest, as the reader will see. I have ever done thus, un
less the thing referred to is to be found through the whole or great part of the page. I have also done the same very
often, where I have occasion to cite other authors. Only when I have before quoted the same thing, I am not always
so exact and particular in noting the place again, in my second quotation or reference.

MISREPRESENTATIONS CORRECTED,

TRUTH VINDICATED.

PART I.
THE GENERAL MISREPRESENTATIONS MR. WILLIAMS MAKES CONCERNING THE BOOK HE WRITES AGAINST.

SECT. I.
Concerning the design of my writing and publishing my
book, and the question debated in it.
Mr. Williams asserts it to be my professed and de
clared design, in writing the book which he has under
taken to answer, to oppose Mr. Stoddard. He has taken
a great liberty in this matter. He charges me with a de
clared design of writing in opposition to Mr. Stoddard, no
less than nine or ten times in his book. And he does not
content himself merely with saying, there are passages in
my Preface, or elsewhere, whence this may be inferred ;
but he says expressly, that I profess to be disputing
against Mr. Stoddard's doctrine, (p. 14. _.) That I tell my
readers, I am disputing against Mr. Stoddard's question,
(p. 37. _.) That I tell them so in my Preface, (p. 107.
_.) That I often declare that I am opposing Mr. Stod
dard's opinion, (p. 132. _.) And on this foundation he
charges me with blotting a great deal of paper, disserving
the cause of truth by changing the question, and putting
it in such terms as Mr. S. expressly disclaims, and then
confuting it as Mr. S  d's principle; unfair treat
ment of Mr. S. (p. 2. _. e.) — surprisingly going off

from Mr. S  d's argument to cast an odium upon
it, treating Mr. S. and his doctrine in such a manner
as to reproach him and his principles, tending to ren
der them odious to the unthinking multitude, and tell
ing a manifest untruth, (p. 14. d. and 15. u. _.) Whereas,
I never once signified it to be the thing I aimed at,
to oppose Mr. Stoddard, or appear as his antagonist. But
the very reverse was true ; and meddling with him,
or what he had said, I studied to avoid, as much as
the circumstances of the debate with my people would
allow, who had been taught by him, and who so greatly
and continually alleged against me the things which
he had said. Nor is there any appearance in those pas
sages Mr. W. cites from my preface, that this was the
thing I aimed at. Nay, one of those passages which he
produces to prove it, shows the contrary : as it shows, that
what I wrote being not consistent with, but opposite to,
what Mr. S. had maintained, was an unsought for and
unpleasing circumstance of that publication. My words
are, " It is far from a pleasing circumstance of tbis publi
cation, that it is against what my honoured grandfather stre
nuously maintained, both from the pulpit and the press."
Certainly my regretting and excusing such an unavoid
able circumstance was a thing exceeding diverse from

! This is now incorporated with the General Index.

Sect. I.

WHAT IS THE QUESTION.

¦187

giving notice to the world, that the thing I aimed at was
to set myself up as Mr. Stoddard's antagonist, and to
write an answer to, and confute, what he had written. It
will, at first sight, be manifest to every impartial reader,
that the design of my Preface was not to state the subject
and intention of the book'. This is done professedly, and
very particularly afterwards, in the first part of the essay
itself. And if I might have common justice, surely I
might be allowed to tell my own opinion, and declare my
own design, without being so confidently and frequently
charged wife misrepresenting my own thoughts and inten
tions. The very nature of the case is such as must lead every
impartial "person to" a conviction, that the design of my
writing must be to defend myself, in toat controversy
whicb I bad wife my people at Northampton ; as it is no
torious and publicly known, that that controversy was toe
occasion of my writing ; and toat therefore my business
must be to defend that opinion or position of mine which
I had declared to them, which had been the occasion of
the controversy, and so the grand subject of debate between
us ; whether this were exactly agreeable to any words toat
might be found in Mr. Stoddard s writings on the subject,
or not. Now this opinion or position was the same with
feat which I expressed in the first part of my book. In
such terms I expressed myself to toe committee of the
church, when I first made feat declaration of my opinion,
which was the beginning of toe controversy, and when
writing in defence of my opinion was first proposed. And
this was the point continually talked of in all conversation
at Northampton, for more than two years, even till Mr.
W.'s hook came out. The controversy was, Whether there
was any need of making a credible profession of godliness,
in order to persons being' admitted to full communion;
whether they must profess having faith, or whether a pro
fession of common faith were not sufficient ; whether persons
must be esteemed truly godly, ana must be taken in under
that notion, or whether if they appeared morally sincere,
that were not sufficient ? And when my book came abroad,
there was no objection made, that I had not truly expressed
the subject of debate in stating the question : but the
subject of debate afterwards, in parish meetings, church-
meetings, and in all conversation, was the question laid
down in my book. No suggestion existed among them,
that the profession persons made in Mr. Stoddard's way,
was taken as a profession of real godliness, or gospel-
holiness ; or that toey were taken in under a notion of
their being truly pious persons, as Mr. W. would have it.
There was no suggestion, that the dispute was only about
the degree of' evidence ; but what was the thing to be made
evident ; whether real godliness, or moral sincerity ? It was
constantly insisted on, with the greatest vehemence, that
it was not saving religion, which needed to be professed,
or pretended to ; but another thing, religion of a lower
kind. The public acts of toe church and parish, from
time to time, show, toat the point in controversy was,
Whether the professors of godliness, only, ought to be ad
mitted? Public votes of which I made a record, were
several times passed to know the church's mind concerning
the admission of those who are able and willing to make a
profession of godliness ; using these terms. And once it
was passed, That such should not be admitted in the way of
publicly making such a profession. And at another time
toe vote passed, That the admission of such persons in such
a way (described in toe same words) should not be referred
to the judgment of certain neighbouring ministers. At
another time, it was insisted on by the parish, in a parish-
meeting, That I should put a vote in the church, in these
words, Whether there be not a dispute between Mr. Edwards
pastor of the church, and the church, respecting the question
he hath argued in his book last published. And accordingly
the vote was put and affirmed, in a church-meeting, in the
same terms. And tois was fee question I insisted on in
my public lectures at Northampton, appointed for giving
the reasons of my opinion. My doctrine was in these
words, It is the mind and will of God, that none should
be admitted to full communion in the church, of Christ, but
such as in profession, and in the eye of a reasonable judg-
* Whether I was mistaken in this, will appear in the sequel.

ment, are truly saints, or godly persons. The town was
full of objections against those sermons ; but none, as ever
I heard, objected, that my doctrine was tesi_e the contro
versy. — And this was all along toe point of difference be
tween me and the neighbouring ministers. This was the
grand subject of debate with them, at a meeting of minis
ters, appointed on purpose for conference on the subject.
It was wholly concerning the matter of profession, or the
thing to be exhibited and made evident or visible ; and
not about toe manner of professing, and the degree of evi
dence. And this was fee doctrine directly opposed by
Mr. A — y, one of the neighbouring ministers, whom my
people had got as their champion to defend their cause in
the pulpit at Northampton. Thus one of the corollaries
he drew from his doctrine (as it was taken from his mouth
in writing; was, That "a man may be a visible saint, and
yet there be no sufficient grounds for our charity, that he
is regenerate." Quite contrary to what Mr. W. maintains.
Another of his corollaries was in these words, " A minister
or church may judge a man a saint, and upon good
grounds, and not have grounds to judge him regenerate."
He proposed tois inquiry, " Do not such as join themselves
to fee church, covenant not only to be visible saints, but
saints in heart?" The answer was in the negative; quite
contrary to Mr. W. Another was, " Does not a visible
saint imply a visibility of grace, or an appearance of it ?"
The answer was, "Not always." — Quite contrary to Mr.
W. Another was, " Is it not hypocrisy in any man, to
make a profession of religion, and join himself to the
church, and not have grace ? " The answer was in toe
negative; also quite contrary to Mr. W. — But these
sermons of Mr. A — y were highly approved by the gene
rality of the people of Northampton, as agreeable to their
minds. And the controversy, as I have stated it in my book,
was toat in which toe church and I appeared before the
council, who determined our separation, when we each of
us declared our sentiments before them. The point of
difference was entirely the matter of profession, and the
thing to be made visible : not the degree of evidence or
visibility. No hint was given as though we both agreed,
that true piety or gospel-holiness was the thing to be made
visible, and that such only should be received as are truly
godly persons in the eye of the church's judgment, (as
Mr. W. holds,) and that we only differed about the proper
grounds of such a judgment.
And therefore it is apparent, tois controversy and its
consequences, were the ground of my separation from my
Seople ; and not any thing like the controversy which
Ir. W. professes to manage in his answer. This contro
versy, when it came out in Mr. W — 's book, was new in
Northampton, and entirely alien from all the dispute which
had filled that part of the country, and a great part of
New England, with noise and uproar, for about two years
and a half. The thing which Mr. W. over and over allows
to be true, was the very same, both in effect and in terms,
which the people had been most vehemently fighting
against, from week to week, and from month to monfe,
during all this time. And therefore the design of my
writing led and obliged me to maintain that position or
doctrine of mine, which was the occasion of this debate.
And be it so, that I did suppose this position was con
trary to Mr. Stoddard's opinion, and was opposed by
him,* and therefore thought fit in my Preface to excuse
myself to the world for differing from him ;' did this oblige
me, in all that I wrote for maintaining my position, to
keep myself strictly to the words which he had expressed
his question in, and to regulate and limit myself in every
argument I used, and objection I answered," by fee terms
which he made use of in proposing his opinion and argu
ments ? And if I have not done it, do I therefore deserve
to be charged before the world with changing the question,
with unfair treatment of Mr. Stoddard, with surprisingly
going off from his argument, with disserving the cause of
truth, &c.
It would have been no great condescension in Mr. W.
if he had allowed that I knew what toe question was,
which was disputed between me and my people, as well

488

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

as he, in a distant part of the countrv. Yea, if he had ac
knowledged, that I was as likely as he, to understand Mr.
Stoddard's real sentiments and practice ; since I was in the
ministry two years with him, as co-pastor of the same
church, and was united with him in ecclesiastical ad
ministrations, in .admitting members, and in examining
them as to their qualifications. I have stood for more than
twenty-three years in a pastoral relation to his church, most
intimately acquainted with the nature of its constitution, its
sentiments and method of administration, and all its re
ligious concerns. I have myself been immediately con
cerned in the admission of more than three quarters of its
present members, and have had the greatest occasion to
look into their way of admission, and have been acquainted
with every living member that Mr. S. had admitted before
my coming ; and have been particularly informed, by many
of them, of the manner of Mr. S  d's conduct in ad
mitting them, their own apprehensions concerning the
terms of their admission, and the profession they made in
order to it; and also the sentiments of the whole of that
large town, who were born and brought up under his
ministry, concerning his constant doctrine and practice, re
lating to the admission of members, from their infancy. —
Whereas, Mr. W. from his youth had lived in another
part of the country, at seventy miles distance.

SECT. II.
Mr. Williams' smisrepresentations of theprinciplesand tenets,
delivered in the book which he undertakes to answer.
Mr. W. very greatly misrepresents my opinion, and the
principles I maintain in my book, in many respects.
I. He says, (p. 5. _.) " The whole argument, and in
deed the whole controversy, turns upon this single point,
viz. What is that evidence, which by divine appointment
the church is to have, of the saintship of those who are ad
mitted to the outward privileges ofthe covenant of grace?
Mr. Edwards seems to suppose, this must be the highest
evidence a man can give of sincerity; and I apprehend it
to be the lowest evidence the nature of the thing will ad
mit." — But this is very strange, since I had particularly
declared in my stating of the question, (p. 5.) that the evi
dence I insisted on, was some outward manifestation, that
ordinarily rendered the thing probable. Which shows, that
all I insisted on, was only, feat the evidence should amount
to probability. And if the nature of the case will admit of
some lower kind of evidence than this, or if there be any
such thing as a sort of evidence that does not so much as
amount to probability, then it is possible that I may have
some controversy with him and others about the degree of
evidence. Otherwise it is hard to conceive, how he should
contrive to make out a controversy with me.
But that the reader may better judge, whether Mr. W.
truly represents me as supposing that the evidence which
should be insisted on, is the highest evidence a man can
give of sincerity, I would here insert an extract of a Letter
which I wrote to the Rev. Mr. Peter Clark of Salem-Vil-
lage, a twelvemonth before Mr. W — 's book was pub
lished. The original is doubtless in Mr. Clark's hands. In
that letter, I declare my sentiments in the following words :
" It does not belong to the controversy between me and
my people, how particular or large the profession should
be that is required. I should not choose to be confined to
exact limits as to that matter. But rather than contend, I
should content myself with a few words, briefly expressing
the cardinal virtues, or acts implied in a hearty compli
ance with the covenant of grace ; the profession being made
(as should appear by inquiry into fee person's doctrinal
knowledge) understandingly ; if there were an external con
versation agreeable thereto. Yea, 1 should think that such
a person, solemnly making such a profession, had a right
to be received as the object of a public charity, however
he himself might scrapie his own conversion, on account
* I added this, because I supposed that such persons as judge themselves
unconverted, if of my principles respecting qualifications for communion,
would scruple coming, and could not come with a good conscience : but if
they were of Mr. S — d's principles, viz. That unconverted men might law-

of his not remembering the time, not knowing the method,
of his conversion, or rinding so much remaining sin, &c.
And (if his own scruples did not hinder*) I should think
a minister or church had no right to debar such a professor,
though he should sav, he did not think himself converted.
For I call that a profession of godliness, which is a pro
fession of the great things wherein godliness consists, and
not a profession of his own opinion of his good estate."—
Northampton, May 7, 1750.
In like manner, I explained my opinion, very particu
larly and expressly, before the council that determined my
separation from my people, and before the church, in a very.
public manner in the meeting-house, many people being
present, near a year before Mr. W— 's book was published.
And to make it the more sure, that what I maintained
might be well observed, I afterwards sent in the foregoing
extract of my letter to Mr. Clark of Salem-Village, into
the council. And, as I was informed, it was particularly
taken notice of in the council, and handed round among
them, to be read by them.
The same council, having heard that I had made certain
draughts of the covenant, or forms of a public profession of
religion, which I stood ready to accept of from the candi
dates for communion, they, for their further information,
sent for them. Accordingly I sent them four distinct
draughts or forms, which I had drawn up about a twelve
month before, (near two years before the publishing of Mr. i
W— 's book,) as what I stood ready to accept of (any one
of them) rather than contend and break with my people.—
The two shortest of those forms were as follows.
One of them was ;
" I hope, I do tmly find a heart to give up myself wholly
to God, according to the tenor of that covenant of grace
which was sealed in my baptism, and to walk in a way of
that obedience to all the commandments of God, which the
covenant of grace requires, as long as I live."
The other,
" I hope, I truly find in my heart a willingness to com
ply with all the commandments of God, which require me
to give up myself wholly to him, and to serve him with
my body and my spirit ; and do accordingly now promise
to walk in a way of obedience to all the commandments of
God, as long as I live."
Now the reader is left to judge, whether I insist, as Mr.
W. represents, that persons must not be admitted without
the highest evidence a man care give of sincerity.
II. Mr. W. is abundant in suggesting and insinuating
to his readers, that the opinion laid down in my book is,
That persons ought not to be admitted to a communion
wifeout an absolute and peremptory determination in those
who admit them, that they are truly godly ; because I sup
pose it to be necessary, that there should be apositive judg
ment in their favour.
Here I desire the reader to observe, that the word posi
tive is used in two senses. (1.) Sometimes it is put in
opposition to doubtful or uncertain : and then it signifies
the same as certain, peremptory , or assured. But, (2.) The
word positive is very often used in a very different sense; not
in opposition to doubtful, but in opposition to negative : and
so understood, it signifies very much the same as real or actual.
Thus, we often speak of anegative good, and a positive good.
A negative good is a mere negation or absence of evil ; but a
positive good is something more, — some real, actual good,
instead of evil. So there is a negative charity, and a posi
tive charity. A negative charity is a mere absence of an
ill judgment of a man, or forbearing to condemn him.
Such a charity a man may have towards any stranger he
transiently sees in the street, that he never saw or heard
any thing of before. A positive charity is something fur
ther than merely not condemning, or not judging ill, it
implies a good thought of a man. The reader will easily
see that the word positive, taken in this sense, is an ex-
fully come, neither a man's being of that opinion, nor his judging himself
unconverted, would hinder my receiving him who exhibited proper evi
dence to the church of his being a convert.

Sect. II.

CONCERNING THE DEGREE OF EVIDENCE.

489

ceeding different thing from certain or peremptory. A man
may have something more than a mere negative charity
towards another, or a mere forbearing to condemn him, he
may actually entertain some good thought of him, and yet
there may be no proper peremptoriness, no pretence of any
certainty in toe case.
Now it is in this sense I use the phrase positive judg
ment, viz. In opposition to a mere negative charity ; as I
very plainly express toe matter, and particularly and fully
explain myself in stating the question. In my Inquiry (p.
5.) I have the following words : " By christian judgment,
I intend something further than a kind of mere negative
charity, implying that we forbear to censure and condemn
a man, because we do not know but that he may be godly,
and therefore forbear to proceed on the foot of such a
censure or judgment in our treatment of him ; as we
would kindly entertain a stranger, not knowing but, in so
doing, we entertain an angel, or precious saint of God :
but I mean a positive judgment, founded on some positive
appearance or visibility, some outward manifestation that
ordinarily renders the thing probable. There is a difference
between suspending our judgment, or forbearing to con
demn, or having some hope feat possibly toe thing may be
so, and so hoping toe best, and a positive judgment in
favour of a person. For having some hope, only implies,
that a man is not in utter despair of a tiling ; though his
prevailing opinion may be otherwise, or he may suspend
his opinion.
Here, I think, my meaning is very plainly and carefully
explained. However, inasmuch as the word positive is
sometimes used for peremptory or certain, Mr. W. catches
at the term, and lays fast hold of the advantage he thinks
this gives him, and is abundant, all over his book, in re
presenting as though I insisted on a positive judgment in
this sense. So he applies the word, referring to my use of
it, from time to time. Thus, (p. 69. o.) " If there be any
thing in tois argument, I think it must be what I have
observed, viz. That a Christian must make a positive judg
ment and determination, that another man is a saint, and
this judgment must have for its ground something which
he supposes is, at least ordinarily, a certain evidence of his
saintship, and by which gracious sincerity is certainly dis
tinguished from every thing else." And, (p. 141. a.)
" The notion of men's being able and fit to determine
positively toe condition of other men, or toe certainty of
their gracious state, has a direct tendency to deceive the
souls of men." And thus Mr. W. makes mention of a
positive judgment above forty times in his book, wito re
ference to my use of it, and to my declared opinion of it-
necessity ; and every where plainly uses toe phrase in that
sense, for absolute and peremptory, in opposition to doubt
fulness ; continually insinuating, toat this is what I pro-
'fessedly insist on. Whereas every acf of the judgment
whatsoever, is a positive judgment in the sense in which I
have fully declared I use it, viz. in opposition to negative ;
which is no act, but a mere withholding of the act of the
judgment, or forbearing any actual judgment.* Mr. W.
himself does abundantly suppose, that there must be
a positive judgment in this sense. He grants the very
thing, though he rejects the term. For he holds, there
must be such a visibility as makes persons to appear to be
real saints, (p. 5. ..) — He allows, that the moral image of
God or Christ must appear, or be supposed to be in them,
as the ground and reason of our charity ; and that toere
must be some apprehension, some judgment of mind, of
the saintship of persons, for its foundation, (p. 68. c. d. e.
and 69. a. 71. _!) — That they must have such a character
appearing in toem. (p. 55. e.) — That there must be a
judgment founded on moral evidence of gospel-holiness.
(p. 139._.)
III. Mr. W. to make my scheme appear toe more
* Mr. John Glas, in his Observes upon the original Constitution of the
Christian Church, (p. 55. 5b'.) says as follows, " You seem to have a great
prejudice at what you call positive evidences, and judging upon them in the
admission of church-members. And I am at some loss to understand what
you mean by them, though I have heard the expression frequently, among
people of your opinion, used to express some very ill thing. If you mean by
Jiosttive evidences, infallible evidences of a thing that none but God inf.il-
ibly knows, and can assure a man's own conscience of, with respect to a
man himself: I think it would be a very great evil for a man to require
such evidence to found his judgment of charity, concerning another man's
faith and holiness, or concerning his being an object of brotherly love.
And I think, he is bound by the law of Chnst to form his judgment in this

ridiculous, more than once represents it as my opinion,
that in order to persons being admitted into the church,
there must be a judgment of their being regenerate, founded
on such a degree of evidence, as that it shall not be liable
to be mistaken more than once in ten times. Thus, (p. 63.
c.) " Mr. Edwards himself supposes, in his own scheme,
when he has made a positive judgment toat every one
singly whom he admits into the church is regenerate ; yet
when taken collectively, it is probable one in ten will be
an hypocrite." (So, p. 71 . b.) " If any thing be intended
to the purpose for which this argument is brought, I con
ceive, it must mean, that there must be such a positive
judgment of toe real holiness of persons, as is not mistaken
more than once in ten times." — Now, I desire the reader
to observe what is the whole ground, on which he makes
such a representation. In explaining my opinion, in the
beginning of my Inquiry, (p. 6.) I desired it might be ob
served, that I did not suppose we ought to expect any such
degree of certainty of the godliness of those who are ad
mitted into toe church, as that when toe whole number
admitted are taken collectively, or considered in the gross,
we should have any reason to suppose every one to be
truly godly ; though we might have charity for each one
that was admitted, taken singly, and by himself. And to
show, that such a thing was possible, I endeavoured to
illustrate it by a comparison, or supposed case of probability
of ten to one, in the example of certain stones, with such
probable marks of a diamond, as by experience had been
found not to fail more than once in ten times. In which
case, if a particular stone were found wito toose marks,
toere would be a probability of ten to one, with respect to
that stone, singly taken, that it was genuine : but if ten
such were taken together, there would not be the same
probability that every one of them was so ; but in this
case, it is as likely as not, toat some one in the ten is spu
rious. Now it is so apparent, that this particular degree
of probability of ten to one is mentioned only as a supposed
case, for illustration, and because, in a particular example,
some number or other must be mentioned, that it would
have been an affront to the sense of my readers to have
added any caution, that he should not understand me
otherwise. However, Mr. W. has laid hold of this, as a
good handle by which he might exhibit my scheme to the
world in a ridiculous light ; as though I had declared it
my real opinion, that there must be the probability of just
ten to one, of true godliness, in order to persons' admission
into the church. He might wito as much appearance of
sense and justice, have asserted concerning all the supposed
cases in books of arithmetic, that toe authors intend these
cases should be understood as real facts, and that feey bave
written their books, with all the sums and numbers in
them, as books of history ; and if any cases mentioned
there only as examples of the several rules, are unlikely to
be true accounts of fact, therefore have charged the authors
with writing a false and absurd history.
IV. Another thing, yet further from what is honourable
in Mr. W. is this ; That, whereas I said as above, that
there ought to be a prevailing opinion conceming those
that are admitted, taken singly, or by themselves, that they
are truly godly or gracious, though when we look on the
whole number in the gross, we are far from determining
that every one is a true saint, and that not one of the judg
ments we have passed, has been mistaken ; Mr. W. be
cause I used the phrase singly taken, has laid hold on the
expression, and from thence has taken occasion to insinuate
to his readers, as if my scheme were so very extravagant,
that according to this, when a great multitude are admitted,
their admitters must be confident of every one's being
regenerated. Hence he observes, (p. 98. c.) " There is no
appearance, that John made a positive judgment toat every
one of these people were regenerated." Plainly using the
matter upon less evidence. But if you mean positive evidence in opposi
tion to negative, which is no evidence, I must own, I know not how to
form a judgment of charity without some positive evidence. And is not a
credible profession something positive ?— Is not a credible profession of the
faith, love, and hope that is in Christ, or of Christianity, a positive evidence
of a man's being an object of brotherly love, which evidence ought to be
the ground of my judgment of charity concerning him, that he is a Chris
tian, a believer in Christ, a brother for whom Christ died ? If it be other
wise, and if there be no evidence upon which lean charitably judge, that a
man is a brother for whom Christ died, then tell me, how I can'evidence my
love to Jesus Christ, in the labour of love towards my brother, whom I have
seen; and my love to God, in my love to them that are begotten of him."

490

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part I,

expression as a very strong one; leading the reader to
suppose, that I insist the evidence shall be so clear, that
when such a vast multitude as John baptized are viewed,
toe admitter should be peremptory in it, that his judgment
has not failed so much as in a single instance ; the very
reverse of what I had expressed. In like manner, Mr. W.
treats the matter from time to time. As in p. 55. a. " The
thing to be proved from hence is, that the apostles and
primitive Christians, not only thought that these persons
were Christians, by reason of their external calling, and
professed compliance with the call; but had formed a
positive judgment concerning every one op them sing
ly, that they were real saints." Here toe expression is
plainly used as a very strong one ; as implying much more
than esteeming so great a multitude, when taken in the
gross, to be generally true saints, and with a manifest de
sign to carry the same idea in the mind of the reader as
was before mentioned. See another like instance, p. 62. c.
V. However, my opinion is not represented bad enough
yet ; but to make it appear still worse, Mr. W. is bold to
strain his representation of it to toat height, as to suggest
that what 1 insist on, is a certainty of others' regeneration;
though this be so diverse from what I had largely explain
ed in stating the question, and plainly expressed in other
parts of my book,* and also inconsistent wito his own
representations in other places. For if what I insist on be
a probability that may fail once in ten times, as he says it
is, p. 63. a. then it is not a certainty that I insist on ; as
he suggests, p. 141 . a. — Speaking of the evil consequences
of my opinion, he says, " The notion of men's being able
and fit to determine positively the condition of other men,
or toe certainty of their gracious estate, has a direct
tendency to deceive toe souls of men." So again in p. 69.
And he suggests, toat I require more than moral evidence,
in p. 6. c. and p. 139. d.
VI. Mr. W. represents me as insisting on some way of
judging the state of such as are admitted to communion,
by their inward and spiritual experiences, diverse from judg
ing by their profession and behaviour. So, p. 7. b. " If
their outward profession and behaviour be fee ground of
tois judgment, then it is not the inward experience of the
heart." P. 55 . 6. " Which judgment must be founded on
something beyond and beside their external calling, and
visible profession to comply with it, and to be separated
for God : and therefore this judgment must be founded,
either upon revelation, or a personal acquaintance with
their experiences," &c. In like manner he is abundant,
from one end of his book to the other, in representing as
though I insisted on judging men by their inward and
spiritual experiences, in some peculiar manner. Which is
something surprising, since there is not so much as a word
said about relating, or giving an account of, experiences, or
what is commonly so called, as a term of communion.
Mr. W. (p. 6. a.) pretends to quote two passages of mine,
as an evidence, feat this is what I insist on. One is from
the 5th page of my book. It is true, I there say thus, " It
is a visibility to the eye of the public charity, and not a
private judgment, that gives a person a right to be received
as a visible saint by the public." And I toere say, " A
public and serious profession of toe great and main things
wherein the essence of true religion or godliness consists,
together with an honest character, an agreeable conversa
tion, and good understanding of the doctrines of Chris
tianity, and particularly those doctrines that teach the
grand condition of salvation, and the nature of true saving
religion; this justly recommends persons to the good
opinion of the public ; whatever suspicions and fears any
particular person, either the minister, or some other, may
entertain, from what he in particular has observed ; per
haps toe manner of his expressing himself ire giving an
account of his experiences, or an obscurity in the order and
method of his experiences," &c. — But the words do not
imply, it may be demanded of the candidate, that he
should give an account of his experiences to the minister,
or any body else, as the term of his admission into the
church : nor had I respect to any such thing. But I knew
it was the manner in many places for those who hoped
* In stating the question, p. 5. b. I explained the requisite visibility, to be
some outward manifestation, that ordinarily renders the thing probable.
To the like purpose, is what I say in p. 10. e. and p. 11. a. b. e. and p. 12. a.

toey were godly persons, to converse with their neighbours,
and especially with their minister, about their experiences;
whether it was required of them in order to their coming
into toe church, or no ; and particularly, I was sensible,
that this was the manner at Northampton, for whose sake
especially I wrote ; and I supposed it toe way of many
ministers, and people, to judge of others' state, openly and
publicly, by the order and method of then: experiences, or
the manner of their relating toem. But tois I condemn
in toe very passage that Mr. W. quotes ; and very much
condemn in other writings of mine which have been pub
lished ; and have ever loudly condemned, and borne my
testimony against. .
There is one passage more, which Mr. W. adds to the
preceding, and fathers on me, to prove that I require an
account of experiences in order to admission ; pretending
to rehearse my words, with marks of quotation, saying as
follows, (p. 6. a.) and as he further explains himself else
where ; " The proper visibility which fee public is to have
of a man's being a saint, must be on some account of his
experience of those doctrines which teach the nature of
true saving religion."— I have made long and diligent
search for such a passage in my writings, but cannot find
it. Mr. W. says, I thus explain myself elsewhere ; but I
wish he had mentioned in what place.
If there be such a sentence in some of my writings, (as
I suppose there is not,) it will serve little to Mr. W— 's
purpose. If we take toe word experience according to the
common acceptation of it in the English language, viz. a
person's perceiving or knowing any thing by trial or experi
ment, or by immediate sensation or consciousness within
himself; in this sense, I own, it may from what I say in
my book be inferred, that a man's profession of his ex
perience should be required as a term of communion.
And so it may be as justly and as plainly inferred, that
Mr. W. himself insists on a profession of experience as a
term of communion ; experience of a deep conviction of
a man's undone state without Christ ; experience of a
persuasion of bis judgment and conscience, that there is
no other way of salvation; experience of unfeigned
desires to be brought to the terms of the covenant. For
such things as these, he says, must be professed. So, p.
75. _. e. and in innumerable other places. There is no
such thing possible as a man's professing any thing within
himself or belonging to his own mind, either good or bad,
either common or saving, unless it be something toat he
finds, or (which is toe same thing) experiences, within
himself. I know the word experience is used by many in a sort
of peculiar sense, for the particular order and method of
what passes within the mind and heart in conversion.
And in this sense, Mr. W. knows, I disclaim toe notion of
making experiences a term of communion. I say, he knows
it, because (in p. 6. a.) he quotes and rehearses the very
words wherein I do expressly disclaim it. And I am very
large and particular in testifying against it in my book on
Religious Affections : (a book I have good reason to think
Mr. W. has seen and read, having been thus informed by
a man of his own principles, that had it from his mouth!)
There, in p. 300. e. and 301 . a. I say as follows : " In order
to persons making a proper profession of Christianity,
such as the Scripture directs to, and such as the followers
of Christ should require in order to the acceptance of the
professors with full charity, as of their society, it is not
necessary they should give an account of the particular
steps and method, by which the Holy Spirit, sensibly to
them, wrought, and brought about those great essential
things of Christianity in their hearts. There is no foot
step in the Scripture of any such way of the apostles, or
primitive ministers and Christians, requiring any such
relation in order to their receiving and treating others as
their christian brethren, to all intents and purposes ; or of
their first examining them concerning the particular method
and order of their experiences. — They required of them a
profession of the things wrought ; but no account of the
manner of working was required of them. Nor is there the
least shadow in fee Scripture of any such custom in the
b. c. And in p. 106. e. I say expressly, " Not a certainty, but a profession
and visibility of these things, must be the rule of the church's proceeding."

Sect. II.

CONCERNING THE DEGREE OF EVIDENCE.

491

church of God, from Adam to the death of the apostle
John." To the same purpose again I express myself in p.
302. d. And in the Preface to the book that Mr. W. writes
against, I make particular mention of this book on Reli-
fious Affections, wherein these things are said ; and there
eclare expressly, that when I wrote that book, I was of
the same mind conceming the qualifications of communi
cants that 1 am of now. — But,
VII. To make my scheme still more obnoxious and
odious, Mr. W. once and again insinuates, that I insist on
an account of such inward feelings, as are by men
supposed to be the certain discriminating marks of grace,
(so p. 7. 6. and 141. e.) though I never once used the
phrase any where in my book. — I said not a word about
inward feelings, from one end of it to the other. Nor is
any inward feeling at all more implied in my scheme, than
in 'his. But however Mr. W. knew that these phrases,
experiences, and inward feelings, were become odious of
late to a great part of the country ; and especially the latter
of them, since Mr. Whitfield used it so much. And he
well knew, that to tack these phrases to my scheme, and
to suggest to his readers that these were the things I pro
fessed to insist on, would tend to render me and my
scheme contemptible. If he says, Though I use not that
pbrase, yet fee things I insist on, are such as are inwardly
felt ; such as saving repentance, faith, &c. I answer, these
things are no more inward feelings, than the things he him
self insists on ; such as a deep conviction of a man's undone
state, unfeigned fervent desires after Christ, a fixed resolu
tion for Christ, engagedness for heaven, &c.
VIII. Mr. W. abundantly, in almost all parts of his
book, represents my principles to be such as suppose men
to be the searchers of others' hearts. For which I
have given no other ground, than only supposing that some
such qualifications are necessary in order to communion,
which have their seat ire the heart, and so not to be intui
tively seen by others ; and that such qualifications must,
by profession and practice, be made so visible or credible
to others, that others may rationally judge they are there.
And Mr. W. supposes the same thing as much as I. In
p. 111. c. he expressly speaks of the qualifications neces
sary to communion, as being ire the heart, and not possible
to be known any other way than by their being seen there ;
and also often allows, that these qualifications'must be ex
hibited, and made visible, by a credible profession, and an
swerable practice. Yea, he goes further, he even supposes
that those who admit them to sacraments, ought to be
satisfied by their profession, that they really have these
qualifications. Thus he says, p. 54. c. " The baptizer ought
to be satisfied by a person's profession, that he really be
lieves the gospel, and that Jesus Christ is the Son of God,
the Saviour."
IX. Mr. W. is not contented with all these representa
tions of my scheme, but will have it appear more absurd
and monstrous still ; and therefore represents me as main
taining that it is not the visible profession of experiences,
feat I suppose the ground of the church's judgment ; but
these experiences and inward feelings themselves, by having
the heart turned inside out, and viewing them immediately
ire the heart itself, and judging upon the next and imme

diate actings of the heart. — Here, I only desire the reader
to read down Mr. W. 's 7th page, and make his own re
flections. X. Whereas, in p. 16. of my book, I observed it to be
the opinion of some, that " Although the members of the
visible church are saints in profession and visibility, and in
the acceptance of others, yet this is not with reference to
saving holiness, but quite another sort of saintship, viz.
moral sincerity ; and that this is the real saintship, disci
pleship, and godliness, that is professed and visible in them,"
&c. Mr. W. (p. 4, 5.) says, He does not remember that
he ever heard of this, or that anybody thought of it, be
fore he saw it in my book ; and represents it as a poor man
of straw, of my own framing; and he insists upon it, that
it is allowed on all hands, that the visibility must be with
reference to saving holiness.
I will not say, that Mr. W. knew it to be a false repre
sentation which he here makes ; but this I will say, that he
ought to have been better informed, before he had thus
publicly ridiculed this as a fiction of mine; especially con
sidering the opportunities and advantages he has had to
know otherwise : this being the notion that had been (as was
before observed)so loudly and publicly insisted on, for more
than two years, by the people of Northampton, and by the
neighbouring ministers, and those of them that were Mr.
W.'s near relatives ; as he has abundant opportunities to
be fully informed, having withal had great inducements to
inquire. Besides, that this has been the universal opinion
of all that part ofthe country (who thought themselves Mr.
Stoddard's followers) for more than twenty years, is a fact
as notorious, as that the people there generally believe Mr.
Stoddard's doctrine of fee necessity of a work of conver
sion in order to get to heaven.— And this is the opinion
professedly maintained in a pamphlet published in Boston,
(anno 1741,) entitled, A Right to the Lord's Supper con
sidered : a piece which has long been well known among
Mr. W's nearest relatives, and in good repute with them ;
as I have had occasion to observe. This pamphlet insists
expressly and abundantly, that moral sincerity is the
real discipleship and holiness, with respect to which
visible Christians are called disciples and saints in Scrip
ture. Particularly see pages 9, 10, 13, and 14. And
which is more strange yet, Mr. Blake, the great author
Mr. W. makes so much use of, and in a book which I
know he has long been the possessor of, speaks much of
a profession of religion that has respect only to a dogmati
cal, historical faith, a common faith, a faith true indeed (as
he says) in its kind, but short of that which is justifying
and saving, and a profession which goes no further, as that
which entitles to sealing ordinances. See Blake on the
Covenant, p. 241, 244, 245. The same author again and
again distinguishes between justifying faith and faith of
profession ; as in p. 284, 285, 286. And which is more
toan all this, Mr. W. (as will appear in the sequel) abun
dantly contends for the same thing himself, though against
himself, and although he charges me (p. 35. d.) with a
great misrepresentation, in supposing that according to the
scheme of my opposers, the profession required in those
that are admitted, does not imply a pretence to any thing
more than moral sincerity and common grace.

PART II.

AN EXAMINATION OP MR. WILLIAMS'S SCHEME, IN THE VARIOUS PARTS OP IT.

SECT. I.
Mr. W — 's Concessions.
Mr. W. allows, that, in order to a man's coming to sa
craments, he ought solemnly to profess and declare, that
* When I first proposed to a certain candidate for communion at North
ampton, the publicly making this profession, vis. That he believed the
truth of the gospel with all his heart, many of the people cried out, that I

he is really and heartily convinced of the divine truth of
the gospel, (p. 30. e. p. 36. a. p. 32. c. p. 84. a.) That he
does sincerely, and with all his heart, believe the gospel,*
(p. 49. e.). And that they which admit him, ought to be
satisfied he really believes the gospel, that Jesus is the
Son of God, the Saviour, (p. 54. c.) ' That he should pro-
insisted on what no saint on earth could profess, and that this amounted to a
profession of absolute perfection. Hence many reports spread about the
country, that I insisted on perfection as a term of communion.

492

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

fess and declare he believes in Christ, and that the gospel
is indeed the revelation of God. (p. 5. c.) He allows, that
none ought to be admitted, but such as openly profess
and declare a hearty consent to the covenant of grace,
and compliance with the call of the gospel, and submission
to the proposals of it, and satisfaction with that device for
our salvation that is revealed in the gospel, and with the
offer which God makes of himself to be our God in Christ
Jesus,* and that they fall in with the terms of salvation
proposed in the gospel, and renounce all other ways. (p.
5. c. p. 8. _. p. 9. b. c. p. 11. a. p. 18. e. p. 55. a. p. 32. c.)
He plainly supposes it not to be lawful for them that are
lukewarm in religion, or those that serve two masters, to
come to sacraments, (p. 32. 6. p. 35. _. e. p. 36. c.) He
supposes, that there must be a real determination of a
man's judgment and affection for the word of God. (p. 55.
c.) That there ought to be a profession of subjection to
Christ with all the heart, (p. 10. _.) and of a devotedness
to the service of God. (p. 49. _.) And a professed giving
up themselves to Christ, to be taught, ruled, and led by
him in the gospel-way to salvation ; (p. 31. e. and 32. a.)
And that communicants ought to declare, that they do,
with all their hearts, cast themselves upon the mercy of
God, to help them to keep covenant; (p. 125. b.) That
they ought to profess a proper respect to Christ in their
hearts, as well as a true notion of him in their heads ; (p.
31 . _.) That they must make a profession that imparts a
pretence of real friendship to Christ, and love to God above
the world, (p. 36. c.) That none ought to be admitted but
visible saints, and that this visibility must be such as to a
judgment of rational charity makes them appeal' as real
saints, wise virgins, and endowed with gospel holiness :
(p. 5. a. b. p. 41. e. p. 42. b. p. 139. a. d. p. 14. a.) That
there should be a charitable presumption, feat the Spirit of
God has taken hold of them, and turned their hearts to
God. (p. 52. c.) That they should be such persons as are
in the eye of a christian judgment truly gracious persons,
supposed and believed in charity to be those to whom God
has given saving repentance, and a heart-purifying faith ;
(p. 65. e. and p. 47. b. c.) Such as have the moral image of
Christ appearing in them, or supposed to be in them, and
are to be loved on that account, (p. 68. c.) He allows,
that there ought to be some apprehension, some judgment
of the mind, that they are Christians and saints, and have
the moral image of God in them.f (p. 68. c. _. e. p. 69. a.
and 71. d.) He allows, that they must be taken into the
church under a notion of their being godly, and with respect
to such a character appearing on them : and very often
insists, that they themselves must make such a pretence.
(p. 55. c. _. e. | p. 132. a. c. d. e. p. 136. _. p. 143. c.)
So he allows, that they must not only be endowed with
christian piety in appearance; but that they must be so
in profession, (p. 3. a.. p. 41. e. p. 44. d.) That they make
a snow of being wise virgins by the nature and purport of
their profession, (p. 42. b.) And he insists with great
strenuousness, over and over, upon its being their scheme,
that they ought to make a profession of real saintship. (p.
132. a. c. d.) Yea, he holds, that there must be not oniy
some visibility and profession of real piety, but moral evi
dence of it. (p. 139. _.) He often uses notes of distinction,
* Mr. W. cites Mr. Guthrie (pref. p. 4. c. £.) as on his side, when he
speaks of such a profession, as that which is to be made.
t By this it appears, when Mr. W. speaks ofthe church's rational judg
ment that persons have real holiness, and the like, he does not mean
merely treating them as such, in public administrations, and external con
duct : for here he speaks not of the external conduct, but of the apprehen
sion ofthe understanding, and judgment of the mind; and this as the
foundation of the affection of the heart.
J Mr. W— 's words (p. 55. d. e.) are pretty remarkable : " The reader
(says he) will judge, whether the manner of Mr. Edwards's treating the
question, and representing the opinion of Mr. Stoddard and others, in the
words I have quoted above, be not unaccountable ; though this is neither
the first nor the last time of his treating the matter in such a manner : as if
Mr. Stoddard and his adherents supposed persons were to be admitted with
out any notion of their being godly, or any respect to such a character ap
pearing on them, and that they themselves are without such a pretence."—
Whereas, Mr. Stoddard expressly maintains, that men may be duly quali
fied, and"/- matter for church-membership, without saving grace. ( Ap
peal, p. 15, 16.) And that they may and ought to come, though they know
themselves to be in a natural condition. (Doct. of Instituted Churches, p.
21. See also his Sermon on the subject, p. 13.) And according to Mr.
Stoddard, communicants are not so much as supposed goaty persons. This
( Appeal, p. 43.) he says expressly, that by the institution communicants
at the hordes supper are not supposed to be real saints. And also asserts
( Appeal, p. 76.) that we are not obliged to believe visible saints to be real
saints. And it seems by what he says in his Appeal, (p. 17.) the church
may admit persons to communion, when at the same time they are aware
that they are hypocrites. For there, in answer to Dr. Mather, who had

distinguishing between moral sincerity and real piety;
and insists much upon it as belonging to their scheme,
that there must be a visibility of the latter, as thus distin
guished from the former. So, he rejects wito great con
tempt any suggestion of its being the scheme of my op-
Eosers, that moral sincerity is that saintship, which is to
e professed and made visible ; and in distinction from
this, he asserts, that it is real holiness, (p. 4. _. e. and p. 5.
a. b.) And again (p. 35. c.) he uses a note of distinction,
and insists that the opposers of my opinion hold, that
communicants must make a profession of something more
than common grace and moral sincerity. And again (p.
139. a. _.) he uses notes of discrimination, and says, that
they must exhibit a credible profession of gospel-holiness,
and not merely of moral sincerity ; and says, it is not
the visibility of moral sincerity, but the moral evidence of
gospel-sincerity, which God's word makes the rule of
judging.— And as he holds, that communicants must pro
fess gospel-holiness, so he seems to suppose that these
professors must judge this of themselves ; several things
he says, seem plainly to imply it. This appears evidently
implied in that interrogation put by Mr. W. (p. 35. e.)
" Mr. S. rightly supposes all visible saints who are not
truly pious, to be hypocrites ; and the Scripture supposes
and calls toem so too : but will it therefore follow, that all
hypocrites know they are so?" And he in effect asserts,
that men should look at such a qualification, as sanctifying
grace, in tbemselves, and inquire whether they have it, or
no, in order to determine whether they should present
themselves to gospel-ordinances : for he greatly finds fault
with me for suggesting, as if those of a different opinion
from me supposed, that persons have no manner of need
to look at any such qualification in themselves, or at all
inquire, whether they have it, in order to present them
selves to sacraments. He refers to that passage in my
book, (p. 55. ci.) " I cannot conceive what should move
Philip to utter those words, or what he should aim at in
them, if he at fee same time supposed that the eunuch
bad no manner of need to look at any such qualification
in himself, or at all to inquire whether he had such a faith,
or no, in order to determine whether he might present him
self as the subject of baptism." It is plain, fee qualifica
tion I have respect to, is grace, or saving faith. And so
Mr. W. himself understands me ; as appears by his re
flections, (p. 49. c. d. e.) where, after quoting this pas
sage, he consigns me over to another judgment, for suggest
ing that my opposers hold what I had there expressed, and
for " representing the matter, as if they looked on it as no
matter whether a person coming to gospel ordinances had
any grace or no, and that he had no manner of need to in
quire any thing about his sincerity ."§

SECT. II.
Some plain consequences of the foregoing concessions.
If it be as Mr. W. says, that the church ought to admit
none to their holy communion, in special ordinances, but
visible saints, and that this visibility must be such as to a
cited certain texts to prove, that when hypocrites do come into the church,
they come in unawares ; he says, but neither of the places he cites proves
that all hypocrites come in unawares. And in the next page he says,
The discovery of men's hypocrisy is not the reason of their being cast out.
Still evidently on the same foundation, that some known hypocrites are ft
to be admitted ; for he says, (p. 15. d.) Such as being admitted may not
be cast out, are fit to be admitted. And these things are agreeable to what
I know Mr. Stoddard's church and congregation have universally supposed
to be his constant doctrine and practice among them. Thus it was, with
out one dissenting voice among them, during the twenty -four years that I
lived with them. And now the reader is desired to judge, as Mr. W. would
have him, whether my representing it to be the opinion of Mr. S. and his
adherents, that persons might be admitted into tlie church without any
notion of their being godly, or any respect to such a character appearing
on them, be unaccountable. — By these things it is evident, Mr. S- — d's
scheme was far from being what Mr. W. represents it to be, and pretends
to maintain as his. And if The question he had to controvert with me, were
Mr. S  d's question, as he asserts t yet he greatly mistakes the true
state of the question, though that be given as the title of his book.
§ Now let all that have been acquainted with the controversy between
me and my people at Northampton, consider these things, which Mr. W.
earnestly insists do belong to his scheme; and judge whether they be
agreeable to the scheme which my opposers there have so vehemently and
long contended for ; yea, whether they are not very opposite to it ; or whe
ther in these things Mr. w. has not entirely yielded up, yea, vehemently
asserted, the chief things concerning which they contested with me; ana
so, whether he has at all helped their cause by writing his book, or rather.
on the contrary, has fought against them.

Sect. II.

PLAIN CONSEQUENCES OF MR. W.'S CONCESSIONS.

493

judgment of rational charity, makes them appear as real
saints, and those that are admitted must be such as pro
fess real saintship, gospel-holiness, in distinction from
moral sincerity ; then fee whole of my first argument,
from the nature of a visibility and profession of Chris
tianity, is allowed by him, in both premises and conse
quences. And indeed Mr. W. does not only do thus con
sequentially, but he is express in it. In (p. 4. c.) taking
notice of this argument, he says, " The sense and force of
it wbolly lies in this compass ; a visible saint is one that to
the view, appearance, and judgment of the church, is a
real saint ; and since none but visible saints are to be
admitted by fee church, therefore none are to be admitted
but such as appear to the view and judgment of the church
to be real saints." But these things, which Mr. W. him
self allows as toe sum ofthe argument, both premises and
consequence, are expressly allowed by him in what there
follows. 2. If there must be a visibility and profession of real
piety, in distinction from moral sincerity, so toat it can be
truly said, as Mr. W. says with discretive terms, and notes
of discrimination, that not merely the one must be pro
fessed, but the other ; and that more than moral sincerity
must be professed, &c. — Then it follows (or rather it is the
same thing) that men must profess religion with some
discrimination, or marks of difference in their words, dis
tinguishing what is professed from moral sincerity ; con
trary to what Mr. W. strenuously and frequently asserts,
(p. 6. c. d. and p. 9. c. and many other places.) For if
the profession is made in words feat signify no difference,
then nothing different is signified or professed by those
words ; and so nothing more ; contrary to what Mr. W.
also asserts.
3. If it be as Mr. W. says, toat the Scripture has deter
mined none ought to be admitted, but such as make an
open profession and declaration of a hearty consent to
the terms of the covenant of grace, such as covenant with
God with their whole hearts, and profess gospel-holiness :
then the whole of my second argument, conceming expli
cit covenanting with God, is expressly allowed, in both
premises and consequence ; though Mr. W. seems at the
same time, with much labour and earnestness, to militate
against it. For the premises are, that all ought openly and
explicitly to own God's covenant, or consent to the terms of
it. This is toe same thing that he asserts, as above. Arid
the consequence, or thing which I inferred from it, was,
toat all that are admitted ought to make a profession of
real godliness : and this also he expressly and often
allows. 4. Since it is supposed, toat in order to admission, men
ought to profess real friendship to Christ, and love to him
above toe world, and to profess a proper respect to Christ
in their hearts, as well as true notion of him in their
heads ; and that they ought to profess gospel-holiness, and
not merely moral sincerity : therefore the whole of what
belongs to my third argument, is allowed, both premises
and consequence. The premises were, that the nature of
things affords as much reason for professing a proper
respect to Christ in the heart, as a true notion of him in the
head. This he allows. What I endeavoured to infer
from hence, was, toat therefore men ought to profess true
piety, and not only moral sincerity : and this is also
allowed by him.
5. It appears, that the whole of my fourth argument,
both premises and consequence, is allowed. The premises
were, that the Scripture reckons all visible saints who are not
truly pious, to be hypocrites. This Mr. W. expressly
allows, (p. 25. e.) The consequence I inferred, was, that
visible saints are such as make a profession of true godli
ness, and not only moral sincerity. This also is very fully
allowed by him, (p. 139. a.)
6. Since it is supposed, that when Christ's rules are
attended, they that come to sacraments, do not know tliem-
selves to be hypocrites, but most look at such a qualification
in themselves, as grace, and make such a pretence, and pro
fess gospel holiness : therefore all is in effect allowed, that
I endeavoured from the latter part of toe 7th chapter of
Matthew, which was to show, that professing Christians
in general, all toose toat said, Lord, Lord, both those that
built on the sand, and those that built on a rock, were

such as imagined themselves to have a saving interest in
Christ, and pretended to be his real disciples, and made
such a profession. The same was what I endeavoured to
show from the parable of the ten virgins. And therefore
all that I argued from thence is in like manner allowed.
7. Hence, in vain is all the opposition Mr. W. makes
to what I allege from the Acts of the Apostles, from toe
story of the eunuch and other parts of that book, concern
ing the manner and circumstances of the admission of
members into the primitive christian church, and the pro
fession they made ; seeing he grants the main point I
endeavoured to prove by it, viz. That they did make, and
all adult persons toat are admitted into the church must
make,a profession of something more than moral sincerity,
even gospel-holiness.
8. Hence, in vain is all he says in opposition to my
eighth argument, taken from toe manner of the apostles'
treating and addressing the primitive churches in their
epistles ; since he does either expressly or virtually grant
each of those three things, which he himself reckons up as
the sum of what I intend under toat argument, viz. (1 .)
That the apostles speak to the churches, and of them, as
supposing and judging them to be gracious persons. (2.)
That the members of these churches had such an opinion
of themselves. (3.) That toey had this judgment one of
another. Mr. W. allows all these. He abundantly allows
and asserts, that the members of churches are such as are
supposed, and rationally judged, to be gracious persons,
by those that admit toem ; feat they are taken in under
that notion, and from respect to such a character appear
ing on them ; and that they are rationally judged to be so
by their fellow-Christians ; and that they must look at
such a character in themselves, and must make such a
pretence. 9. Since Mr. W. abundantly allows, that visible Chris
tians must be believed in charity to be truly pious ; and
that they are such as have the moral image of Christ
appearing in them, and supposed to be in them, and that
they are to be loved on that account : therefore very
impertinent and inconsistent is the opposition he makes to
my ninth argument, from the nature of toat brotherly love
required towards all visible Christians ; which was to
show, that visible Christians by the rale of Christ were to
be apprehended to be true Christians.
10. In like manner, vain and to no purpose is the op
position he makes to my tenth argument, from toe nature
of sacramental actions, supposed in their intent and signi
fication to be a solemn profession of those things wherein
real piety consists, viz. a cordial acceptance of Christ and
his benefits ; from thence arguing, that a profession of
these things is necessary, and so inferring, that those who
perform these actions, should suppose themselves truly to
accept of Christ: since both these things are in effect
granted, that communicants must judge toat they have
sanctifying grace, and also that they must profess gospel-
hol iness, a compliance with the call of the gospel, and
falling in with the terms of salvation proposed, &c.
11. In vain also is the opposition he makes to my
eleventh argument, from 1 Cor. xi. 28. " Let a man ex
amine himself; and so let him eat." — Inferring from thence,
that a man ought to inquire concerning such a qualifica
tion in himself, as grace, in order to know whether he
may come to the sacrament of the Lord's supper. Since
Mr. W. himself plainly supposes this very thing. That
men ought to look at such a qualification in themselves, as
grace, and to inquire whether they have it, in order to de
termine whether they may present themselves to christian
sacraments. 12. If it be true, according to Mr. W.'s representation
of his own scheme, That persons may not be admitted to
sacraments, but under a notion of their being truly godly,
and with respect to such a character appearing on them ;
and that persons themselves had need to look at such a
qualification in themselves, and inquire whether they have
it, m order to determine whether they may come to sacra
ments ; it must be because if they find they have it not,
they may not come, or (which is fee same thing) it is not
lawful for them to come. For it would be ridiculous to
say that others must look at such a qualification in them,
and must not admit them but from respect to such a cha-

494

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

racter on them ; and that they themselves also must look
at such a qualification in themselves, and inquire whe
ther they have it in order to determine whether they
may come ; when yet they may come whether they have
it or no, and have as much of a lawful right without
it as with it. So that Mr. W. has in effect determined
against himself the grand point, which he himself insists
on, as the point in dispute, according to the true state of
the question. And therefore,
13. It follows from the foregoing concessions, that Mr.
W. is inconsistent with himself in all his arguings that
men may come to sacraments without such a qualification
or character as that of true piety. Because God has given
no certain rule by which sacraments may be restrained to
such ;* or because that otherwise none might come but
those that know they have such a character ;f or because
the contrary doctrine tends to bring saints into great per
plexities in their attendance on sacraments ; J or from the
lawfulness of unregenerate men's attending other duties.§
If there be any force in this arguing from other duties to
an attendance on sacraments, then the argument will infer,
that men must not be admitted to other duties, but under
the notion of their being truly godly, and from respect to
such a character appearing on them, &c. — as Mr. W. in
sists with regard to christian sacraments. And so if these
things which Mr. W. concedes and asserts, are true, in
vain is all arguing from the like tendency in sacraments to
convert men, as in other duties ;|| and in vain is it to
argue the lawfulness of men's coming without this cha
racter, from their obligation to perform external covenant-
duties,^ and to carry themselves like saints;** and in
vain is all arguing from the pretended bad consequences
of the contrary doctrine.ft
14. The opposition Mr. W. makes to my argument
from Isaiah lvi. especially those words, ver. 6, 7. " The
sons of the stranger that join themselves to the Lord, to
love the Lord, and be his servants — will I bring into my
holy mountain" — to prove that none have a right in the
sight of God to the privileges of the christian church, but
those that love God, and are truly pious ; I say, the op
position Mr. W. makes to this argument is frivolous, since
he in effect grants the same thing, (as above,) yea, expressly
allows, that they must make pretences of being God's real
friends, and loving God more than the world, p. 36. c.
15. If it be true, as Mr. W. allows and abundantly as
serts, that in order to persons being admitted to holy com
munion in special ordinances, the Scripture has deter
mined, that there must be an open profession and
declaration of a person's believing, or of a personal be
lieving, ire Christ, (which is the same thing,) and of a
hearty consent to the terms of the covenant of grace,||
and that therein must be a profession of gospel-holiness :
then nothing to the contrary avails that great argument of
his, taken from the state of baptized infants, that they are
already in the church, and in covenant, and are members
in complete standing, &c. and toat therefore no owning
the covenant or professing godliness can be demanded of
them : §§ and in vain is all that he has said to prove this
in his discourse on the wheat and frzres.|||J
16. To what purpose is it, to object from the parable
now mentioned, that the church ought not to make a dis
tinction between wheat and tares, in their admission of
members, by pretending to discern the difference ? When
it is so apparent, that there is no pretence to any proper
discerning in the case, nor any other distinction pleaded,
than what is made by a judgment of charity. According
to Mr. W — 's own scheme, churches are obliged to make
a distinction, in the rational judgment they pass, and to
admit none, but what they judge to be true saints ; so
that those who are wheat, in the eye of their judgment,
only are to be admitted, and such as are tares, in the eye
of their judgment, are to be excluded.
17. What is said by Mr. W. of the visible church
being the school of Christ, and men being admitted into
it as disciples or scholars, some of them in order to attain
grace, (p. 81, and 83.) is nothing to the purpose, if it be
as Mr. W. allows and asserts, that in order to be admitted
into this school, they must be supposed, in a reasonable

« See Mr. W.'s book, a 106, &c.
§ P. 123, Stc. || P. 126, de.

t Ibid. p. 108, &c.
. P. 128, _c.

t P. 120, &c.
** P 131.

judgment, to have this attainment already, and make a
pretence to it, and a solemn profession of it, and must
give moral evidence that they have it, and must be ad
mitted into the school under no other notion than that of
their being already possessed of it.
18. If it be as Mr. W. expressly says, That persons are
not visible saints without a credible profession, visibility,
and moral evidence, not only of moral sincerity, but true
holiness, (p. 139.) then all is wholly insignificant and
vain, that is said to prove, that toe children of Israel were
visible saints without any evidence of such holiness, by
reason of the idolatry and gross and open wickedness of
vast multitudes of them, who are yet called God's people.
And so likewise, all that is said to prove, that the mem
bers of tbe primitive christian church bad no other visi
bility of saintship than they, because they are grafted into
the same olive; and also all that Mr. W. has said to
prove, that many of the members of the primitive churches
were as grossly wicked as they.
19. Since according to Mr. W. the terms of admission
to the Jewish ordinances, were the same as to christian
ordinances, the like profession and the same visibility of
saintsbip required, and no other ; as he strenuously as
serts, (p. 57. e. p. 61. e. and p. 65. c.) it will therefore fol
low from his foregoing concessions and assertions, that
none were, by God's appointment, to come to the passover,
and to have their children circumcised, but such as openly
professed and declared that they were convinced of the
truth of God's word, and believed it with all their hearts ;
and professed a hearty consent to the terms of the cove
nant of grace : such as covenanted with God with their
whole hearts, and gave up all their hearts and lives to
Christ ; such as subjected themselves to Christ with their
whole hearts, and gave up themselves to him, to be ruled,
taught, and led by him ; such as with all their hearts cast
themselves on the mercy of God to enable them to keep
covenant ; such as professed to love God above the world,
and professed more than common faith and moral sincerity,
even true holiness, real piety ; and who gave moral evi
dence, that they had such a qualification ; and were re
ceived to the passover, &c. under that notion, and with
respect to such a character appearing in them, and appre
hended to be in them. And if these things are so, what is
become of the argument from the passover and circum
cision, against the necessity of the qualifications I have
insisted on ?
20. To what purpose does Mr. W. insist, (p. 98. a.)
That we read not a word in Scripture about John the Bap
tist's making any inquiry, whether the people he baptized
made a credible profession of true piety 1 when he himself
insists, that in order to admission to christian sacraments,
men must make a credible profession of true piety. And
why does he urge, (p. 96. e. and p. 97.) That the profession
the people made which John baptized did not imply that
they had saving repentance, but only an engagement to
repent, hereafter 1 when he himself holds, that in order to
admission to sacraments, men must profess something more
than common grace, and not only promise it hereafter.
21. It makes nothing to any point in controversy be
tween Mr. W. and me, whether Judas partook of the
Lord's supper or no, since according to the fore-mentioned
principles, as well as mine, he could not be admitted there
under any other notion than that of being truly pious, and
from respect to such a character appearing on him, and a
credible profession of gospel-holiness ; and since he might
not lawfully come without some qualifications he had not,
viz. such a friendship for Christ, as is above lukewarmness,
and above serving two masters, Christ and Mammon, and
a giving up all his heart and life to Christ, and a real de
termination of bis judgment and affections for Christ's
word, &c.
22. If it be true, as Mr. W. allows, that ministers and
churches ought not to admit adult persons to sacraments,
without a pious character appearing on them, and their pro
fessing and exhibiting moral evidence of gospel-holiness,
then no good argument can be brought against such a way
of admission, from the success of ministers in another
way, or in any way whatsoever.

ttP. 131,-c.
§§ See especially, p. 3

tt See how Mr. W. expresses himself, p. 5. b. c

P. 99, 100. '

Sect. III.

OF UNGODLY MEN COMMUNICATING.

495

Besides these plain and obvious consequences of Mr.
W.'s concessions, some other consequences will hereafter
be observed under particular heads.
Thus Mr. W. has in effect given up every point belong
ing to the whole controversy, every thing material insisted
on through that whole book which he undertakes to answer.
He has established every part of my scheme, and every
particular argument 1 have used to confirm it ; and an
swered, or overthrown every argument which he brings, or
pretends to support, against it. And I should have no
further occasion to say any thing in reply to him, if he had
not really, through great part of his performance, argued
for other things, opposite to those that nave been rehearsed,
which he so strenuously insists belong to his scheme.
That arguing may seem to support another scheme, though
nothing akin to his, any otherwise than as it is indeed a
mixture of many schemes, one clashing with and de
stroying another ; as will appear in 'the ensuing part of
this reply.

SECT. III.
The inconsistence of the fore-mentioned concessions with
the lawfulness of unsanctified persons coming to the
Lord's supper, and their right to sacraments in the sight
of God.
Mr. W. in the book under consideration, which he en
titles toe true state of the question, insists upon it that the
question to be debated is the question Mr. Stoddard de
bated in his dispute with Dr. Mather ; in whose scheme
Mr. W. declares himself to be. Mr. S. in his dispute
with Dr. Mather asserted, that it was lawful for some un
sanctified men to come to the Lord's supper, and that they
had a right so to do in the sight of God. And he declares
that tois was the point in dispute between him and Dr.
Mather; as in Appeal, p. 20. " That which I am to show
is, that some unsanctified men have a right before God to
the Lord's supper." So Mr. Blake (who is so great an
author with Mr. W.) says in his treatise on the covenant,
p. 244. " That faith which is the condition of the pro
mise, is not the condition in foro Dei [before God] of a
title to the seal." And there (in the next p.) he insists,
that it is a common faith, that is believed by men not
justified, which gives this title. Agreeable to these things
Mr. W. says, (p. 132. _.) Some men have a lawful right to
the sacrament without sanctification. Which is the same
thing as to say, They have a right in the sight of God. For
if they have no right in the sight of God to come to the
Lord's supper, then it is not lawful in the sight of God that
they should come.
Here I would lay down this as a maxim ;
There is some inward religion and virtue or other, some
sincerity of heart, either moral or saving, that is necessary
to a right to sacraments in the sight of God, and in order to
a lawful coming to them. No man, I trust, will say, that
a man has a right in God's sight, who has no sort of seri
ousness of mind ; and that merely outward sounds and
motions give him this right in God's sight, without re
gard to any property or quality of mind, and though this
outward show is joined with the most horrid and resolved
secret irreligion and wickedness. Mr. W. in particular
utterly disclaims such doctrine as this, and always main
tains that in order to men's lawful coming, they must be
morally sincere ; as in his Preface, and also in p. 25. d. e.
p. 27. c. p. 30. _. p. 35. e. p. 111. — In p. 115. he supposes,
that if a man makes a doubt of his moral sincerity, no di
vine will advise him to come till he knows.
Having observed this, I now desire it may be con
sidered, whether it be reasonable to suppose, as Mr. W.
does, that God would give men that are without grace, a
lawful right to sacraments, so that tois qualification itself
should be nothing necessary to a proper and rightful claim
to these ordinances ; and yet that he would wholly forbid
them to come, and others to admit them, without their
making some pretence to it, and exhibiting moral evidence
that they have it : that moral sincerity is the qualification
which by God's own appointment invests persons with a
lawful right to sacraments, and that by his institution

nothing more is requisite to a lawful right ; and yet that he
has commanded them not to come, nor others to allow
them to come, without making a profession of something
more than moral sincerity, as Mr. W. says. Mr. W. sup
poses that God requires us, before we admit persons, to
seek credible evidence of true piety, and to see to it that
we have reasonable ground to believe they bave it ; other
wise, not to allow them to come ; and yet that God does
not look on such a qualification requisite in itself, when all
is done, and that he has given them as true and lawful a
right to come without it, as with it. If God insists upon
it, as Mr. W. supposes, that members should be admitted
under no other notion than of their being truly godly, and
from respect to such a character appearing on them, is it
not plain, that God looks on such a character in itself re
quisite, in order to a person's being a rightful subject of
such a privilege 1 If the want of this qualification do not
in the least hinder a person's lawful right to a thing, on
what account can the want of an appearance of it and pre
tence to it, warrant and oblige others to hinder his taking
possession of that thing ?
That we should be obliged to require a credible pretence
and evidence of the being of a thing, in order to a certain
purpose, the being of which is not requisite to that pur
pose ; or that some evidence of a thing should be neces
sary, and yet withal no necessity there should be any
foundation of such evidence, in the being of the thing to
be made evident ; that it should be necessary for us to
seek evidence that something is true, and yet there be no
need in order to the intended purpose, that there be any
such truth to be made evident ; — if these toings are the
dictates of common sense, I am willing all that are pos
sessed of any degree of common sense should be judges.
If God has plainly revealed, that gospel-holiness is not
necessary in itself in order to men's lawful right to sacra
ments, as Mr. W. greatly insists, then his churches need
not believe it to be necessary ; yea, it is their duty to believe
that it is not necessary, as it is their duty to believe what
God says to be true. But yet Mr. W. holds, that God
forbids his churches to admit any to sacraments, unless
they first have some rational evidence obliging them to be
lieve that they have gospel-holiness. Now how palpable is the
inconsistence, that we must be obliged to believe men
have a qualification in order to our suffering them to come,
which yet at the same time we need not believe to be ne
cessary for them to have in order to their coming, but
which God requires us to believe to be unnecessary ! Or
in other words, that God has made it necessary for us to
believe or suppose men are truly pious, in order to our
lawfully allowing them to take the sacraments, and yet at
the same time requires us to believe no such thing as their
being pious is necessary in order to their lawfully taking
the sacraments !
Mr. Stoddard (whose principles Mr. W. in Preface, p. 3.
a. declares himself to be fully established in) not only says,
that some unsanctified men have a right before God to the
Lord's supper, but strongly asserts, over and over, that
they are pit to be admitted to the Lord's supper, that they
are duly qualified, fit matter for church-membership.
— (Appeal, p. 15, 16.) And Mr. W. argues that such
qualifications as some unsanctified men have, are suffi
cient to bring them into the church. Now if it be so,
what business have we to demand evidence or pretence of
any thing further ? What case in the world can be men
tioned parallel to it, in any nation or age ? Are there any
such kind of laws or regulations to be found in any nation,
city, or family ; in any society, civil, military or academic,
stated or occasional, that the society should be required to
insist on some credible pretence and evidence of a certain
qualification, in order to persons being admitted to the pri
vileges of the society ; prohibiting their being admitted
under any other notion than as persons possessed of that
qualification, or without a respect in their admission to such
a character appearing on them : and yet at the same time,
by the laws of that very society, that qualification is not
necessary ; but persons are declared, without any such
qualification, to have a lawful right, to be fit matter,
to be duly qualified, and to have sufficient qualifi
cations to be admitted to these privileges, without that
qualification ?

496 If some men have a right in the sight of God to sacra
ments without true piety, and are fit and duly qualified
without it, in his sight and by his institution, and yet the
church must not admit them unless they are truly pious in
their sigbt ; then the eye of man must require higher
terms, than the infinitely holy eye of God himself; they
must look for something that the eye of God looks not for,
and which he judges them duly qualified without.
Mr. W. when speaking of the evidence, on which he
supposes the church ought to judge persons to be real
saints, from time to time adds, that on such evidence " The
church is obliged, in their external carriage, to treat them
as saints, and admit them to the external privileges of the
church."— So, p. 9. _. p. 12. a. &c. p. 13. a. b. and p. 14. c.
and in other places. But what does he mean by treating
them as saints, in admitting them to the external privileges
of the church ? If sinners have as much of a lawful right
to these privileges, as saints, then why is giving them these
privileges, a treating them as saints, any more than as sin
ners ? If it belongs to an ignorant child, to be admitted
into school, as much as one feat is learned, then how is it
treating him as one that is learned, to admit him ? Mr. W.
(p. 11. d. e.) giving a reason why he that professes con
viction of the truth of the gospel, &c. ought to be admitted
to sacraments, says, " Though this conviction may be only
by moral evidence and common illumination, yet — the
church knows not but it is done on a divine and gracious
discovery." But how can this be a reason ? What if the
chti-ch did know that it was not on a gracious discovery, if
the man has a right in the sight of God without, and God
has made it his duty to come to sacraments without it ?
Surely the church have no right to forbid him to do that
which God bas given him a right to do, and made it his
duty to do ; as Mr. S. says, (Doct. of Inst. Churches, p.
20. . .) The church may not hinder any man from doing
his duty.
Therefore if this be Mr. S  d's question, Whether
some unsanctified men may lawfully come to the Lord's
supper, and if this be the grand point in dispute, the thing
which Mr. W. undertakes to maintain, as he often declares,
then it is most plainly evident, that in conceding and as
serting those things forementioned, he does in effect abun
dantly give up that which he himself insists on as the
grand point in controversy ; and so makes void and vain
all bis own labour, and for himself effectually confutes all
feat he has written.

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

SECT. IV.
Concerning Mr. W.'s notion of a public profession of godliness
in terms of an indeterminate and double signification.
According to Mr. W. the profession of godliness must
be in words not of a determinate meaning, or without any
discrimination in the meaning of the words, obliging us to
understand them of saving religion, (p. 6. c. d.) They
must make an open declaration of their sincere consent to
the terms of the covenant, without any discrimination, by
which it can be determined, that the consent signified by
the words is a gracious consent, (p. 9. c.) And without
any marks of difference, or any distinction in the words,
whereby we can be enabled to judge when they mean a
saving faith, and when a different one. (p. 10. c. e. p.
50. e. and p. 53. c.) That nothing should be expressed in
the words of the profession, but what some unsanctified
men may say, and speak true. (p. 47. e.) He supposes,
that the primitive Christians in the profession they made
of faith, did not speak only in that sense, viz. so as to sig
nify justifying faith ; and feat the persons admitted did not
understand that their profession was understood by those
that admitted them, only in that sense, (p. 58. c.)
Agreeable to this notion of making a profession in words
of indiscriminate meaning, and professing godliness with
out godliness,and yet speaking true, Mr. W. (in p. 44. d.e.)
allows, that men must be by profession godly persons, in
* The Apostle Paul says, 1 Cor. xiv. 7. " Even things without life, giving
sound, whether pipe or harp, except they give a distinction in the sounds,
how shall it be known what is piped or harped ?"  Mr. Locke says,
Hum. Vnd. Vol. 2. Edit. 7. p. 103. " He that uses words of any language

order to come to the sacrament ; and yet in the next sen
tence he denies, that christian grace itself is requisite in
the person wbo is to come to the sacrament, or that the
dictate of his conscience that he has it, is the thing that
gives him a right to offer himself. And agreeable to this
last clause, Mr. Stoddard (of whose opinion Mr. W. professes
himself fully to be) expressly maintains, that a man may
and ought to come to the Lord's supper, though he knows
himself to be in a natural condition. (Doct. of Inst.
Churches, p. 21. See also his sermon on this controversy,
p. 13.) So that putting these things together, it must be
agreeable to Mr. W.'s scheme, that a man has a right to
make a profession of godliness, without having godliness,
and without any dictate of his conscience that he has the
thing he professes, yea, though he knows he has not ! And
all this is made out by the doctrine of professing godliness
in words that are ambiguous, and of two meanings.
This notion of a solemn profession of godliness, in
words of a double meaning, without any marks of differ
ence in their signification, is the great peculiarity of Mr.
W.'s scheme ; and in all his controversy with me, this ap
pears to be toe main hinge, the crisis of toe whole affair.
Therefore I would particularly consider it. And for the
greater distinctness and clearness, I will lay down certain
positions, as of most evident truth ; observing some of
toeir no less plain and evident consequences.
I. Words declare or profess nothing any otherwise than
by their signification : for to declare or profess something
by words, is to signify something by words. And therefore,
if nothing is signified by words of a pretended profession,
nothing is really professed ; and if something be professed,
no more is professed than the words of the profession
signify or import.
II.' If a man declare or profess any particular thing by
words which have no distinguishing signification, or with
out any signs or discriminating marks by which men may
be enabled to distinguish what he means, his words are
vain to the pretended purpose, and wholly fail of answer
ing fee end of words, which is to convey the thing meant
to others' understanding, or to give notice to others of the
thing supposed or understood*
Therefore to use words thus in common conversation, is
to act in a vain trifling manner, more like children than
men : but to use words thus in the sacred services of
God's house, and solemn duties of his worship, is some
thing much worse toan children's play. But thus Mr.
W. expressly declares, words are to be used in a public
profession of religion, (p. 10. c.) " And these words are
so used in such cases, without any marks of difference,
whereby we are enabled to judge when they mean a saving
faith, and when a different one."
III. A profession made in words that are either equi
vocal, or general, equally signifying several distinct toings,
without any marks of difference or distinction, by which
we are enabled to judge what is meant, is not a profession
or signification of any one of those several toings ; nor can
they afford any rational ground of understanding or ap
prehending any particular thing. Thus for instance, if a
man using an equivocal term, should say, that such an
evening a king was in that room, without any marks of
difference or discrimination whatsoever, by wbich others
could discern whether, by a king, he meant the ruler of a
kingdom, or a king used in a game of chess ; the words
thus used would be no declaration, that the head of 3
kingdom was there at such a time ; nor would they give
any notice of any such thing to those to whom he spoke,
or give them any rational ground to understand or judge
any such thing.
Or if a man should use a general term, comprehending
various particular sorts, without at all distinguishing or
pointing forth any one particular sort, he thereby professes
no one particular sort. Thus if a man professes toat he
has metal in his pocket, not saying what sort of metal,
whether gold, silver, brass, iron, lead, or tin ; his words
are no profession that he has gold.
So if a man professes sincerity or religion, designedly
without distinct ideas in his mind, to which he applies them, does so far as
he uses them in discourse, only make a noise without anv sense or signifi
cation." "

Sect. IV.

OF AN INDETERMINATE PROFESSION.

497

using terms of double signification, or (which comes to the
same thing) of general signification, equally signifying
two entirely distinct toings, either moral sincerity, or real
piety, his words are no profession of real piety ; he makes
no credible profession, and indeed no profession at all of
gospel holiness.
IV. If a man who knows himselt to "be destitute of any
certain qualification, yet makes a profession or pretence, in
words of double meaning, equally signifying feat qualifi
cation, and something else very different, wife a design to
recommend himself to others' judgment and apprehension,
as possessed of that qualification, he is guilty of deceitful
equivocation, viz. using words of double meaning, or
capable of double application, with a design to induce
others to judge something to be true, which is not true . But
he feat would recommend himself by such terms to others'
opinion or judgment, as being what he at the same time
knows he is not, endeavours to induce toem to believe
what he knows is not true, which is to deceive them.*
But if the scheme which Mr. W. undertakes to defend
were true, it would follow toat such a kind of equivoca
tion as this, (be it far from us to suppose it,) is what the
infinitely wise and holy God has instituted to be pub
licly used in the solemn services of his house, as the very
condition of persons' admission to the external privileges
of his people ! For Mr. W. abundantly asserts, feat
persons must be esteeme d in toe judgment and apprehension
of otoers to have true piety ; and that one thing that must be
done in order to it, one thing pertaining to the moral
evidence that recommends them to this judgment, is the
profession they make of religion, (p. 5. p. 139. p. 47. b, c.
p. 132. p. 44. d.) In p. 42. speaking ofthe profession of
visible Christians, he has these words, " And it is from
toe nature and purport of this profession, we say, the
church is to judge the members to be wise virgins, or what
they make a show of." And Mr. W. insists upon it, that
according to Christ's institution, this must be in words
equally signifying true godliness, and something else,
without any discrimination or marks of difference. — This
is the scheme ! And certainly such a doctrine of deceitful
equivocation in the public exercises of religion, is more
agreeable to the principles and practices of a religion I am
loth to name, than the true religion of Jesus Christ.
Mr. W. says, (p. 35. d.) " I am at a loss to conceive
how it will help the cause of truth to represent those who
are of Mr. S — 's opinion, as teaching men that toey may
enter into covenant with God with known and allowed
guile." Supposing I had made such a representation, I
can tell him how it would have helped the cause of truth,
(as it would be speaking notoing but the truth,) if he be
one of Mr. Stoddard's opinion, (as he says he is,) and re
presents his own opinion tmly.
But let the unreasonableness of this notion of professing
fospel-holiness in words of two meanings, without any
iscrimination or mark of difference, be a little further
considered. Since it is allowed, that gospel-holiness is toe
thing which is to be exhibited in the profession, and there
are words which signify this by a determinate meaning,
why must they needs be avoided, and words of doubtful
and double signification only be made use of?f Since
the design of the profession is to exhibit to others' under
standing that very thing ; if the proper and distinguishing
names of that must nevertheless be avoided in the profes
sion, and for this very reason, that they point forth to
others' understanding that very thing by a determinate
meaning; then we are brought to this gross absurdity,
viz. That the end of a profession is to exhibit to others'
understanding and reasonable judgment a particular quali
fication ; but at the same time such words only must be
used as do not distinctly point forth to others' understand
ing and judgment that particular qualification. The church
are to seek and demand a profession^ toat shall determine
their rational judgment ; but yet are designedly to avoid
such a profession as shall determine their understandings.
— Be it far from us to attribute to the allwise God any
such an absurd and inconsistent constitution.
* " To advance a dubious proposition, knowing it will be understood in
a sense different from what you give it in your mind, is an equivocation, in
breach of good faith and sincerity." Chambers's Dictionary, under the word
Equivocation. T Mr. W. (p. 6. „. e.) speaks of a profession in terms of indiscriminate sig-
VOL. I. 2 K

Mr. W. says, charity obliges the church to understand
the words of the professors in the most favourable sense.
But charity does not oblige us to understand toeir words
in any otoer sense than that in which they professedly use
them. But in churches which professedly act on Mr.
W.'s scheme, (if any such there be,) the professors wbo are
admitted, professedly use ambiguous words, or words
equally signifying two entirely distinct things, without dis
crimination or marks of difference ; and therefore charity
obliges us to understand their words no otherwise, tban as sig
nifying that they have one or other of those two things ; and
not that they have one in particular : for their words do not
signify this, in toe sense they professedly use them. If a
man that is indebted to me, professes that he has either
gold or brass, which he promises to pay me ; or if he uses
an equivocal or general term, that equally, and without
marks of difference, signifies either one or the other;
charity may oblige me to believe what he says, which is,
that he has either gold or brass : but no charity obliges
me to believe that he has gold, which he does not say.
Mr. W. in his description of such a profession as Christ
has instituted, in order to admission to sacraments, often
mentions two things, viz. A profession of something pre
sent, a present believing in Christ, and cordial consent to
the terms of the covenant of grace, &c. And a promise of
something future. And with regard to toe latter, he is
very full in it, toat what is promised for time to come is
saving faith, repentance, and obedience.J Now what reason
can be given why we should use words of double meaning
in the former part of the profession more than in the latter ?
Seeing Mr. W. allows that we must profess gospel-holi
ness as well as promise it, and seeing we may and must
make use of words of indiscriminate and double meaning
in professing present gospel-holiness, why should not we
do so too in promising what is future ; and so equivocate
in our solemn vows and oaths as the papists do ? if Mr.
W. says it is very hard for men to discern the discrimina
tion between moral sincerity and gospel-holiness ; 1 an
swer, there is as much need to discern the difference in
order understandingly to promise gospel-holiness with dis
crimination, as to profess it with discrimination.
Mr. W. says, (p. 8. b. c.) " It is a received rule among
mankind, in all public judgments, to interpret words in
the most extensive and favourable sense that the nature of
toe words or expressions will bear." I know not what he
means : but if he means, (as he must, if he means any
thing to the purpose,) that it is a received rule amongst
mankind, to trust, or accept, or at all regard any profes
sions or declarations that men make, wito professed de
sign, in words of double and indiscriminate meaning,
without any marks of difference by which their meaning
can be known, for that very end feat toey may be used
with a safe conscience, though they have no dictates of
their own consciences, that they have what others are to
believe they have ; I say, if this be a received rule among
mankind, it is a rule feat mankind has lately received
from Mr. W. Heretofore mankind, societies or particular
persons, would have been counted very foolish for regard
ing such professions. Is this the way in earthly kingdoms,
in professions of allegiance to temporal princes, in order to
their admission to the privileges of good subjects ? Do
they choose equivocal terms to put into toeir oaths of
allegiance, to that end that men may use them and speak
true, though they are secret enemies? — There are two
competitors for fee kingdom of this world, Christ and
Satan ; the design of a public profession of religion is, to
declare on which side men are. And is it agreeable to
the custom of mankind in such cases, to make laws that
no other than ambiguous words shall be used, or to accept
of such in declarations of this kind ? There are two com
petitors for the kingdom of Great Britain, King George,
and the Pretender : is it toe constitution of King George
and the British parliament, that men should take oaths of
allegiance, contrived in words of indeterminate significa
tion, to the end that men who are in their hearts enemies
to King George, and friends to toe Pretender, may use
nification, when not contradicted in life, as The sole, entire evidence, which
the church, as a church, is to have, by divine appointment, in order to
that public judgment it is to make of the saintship of men.
t Pref. (p. 3. d. e. and 5. d. p. 24. b. 25. .. 22. d. 27. a. 58. d. 69. d.

498

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

them and speak true ? And certainly mankind, those of
them that have common sense, never in any affairs of life
look on such professions as worth a rush. Would Mr. W.
himself, if tried, in any affair wherein his temporal in
terest is concerned, trust such professions as these '! If
any man with whom he has dealings, should profess to
him that he had pawned for him, in a certain place, a
hundred pounds, evidently, yea professedly, using fee ex
pression as an ambiguous one, so that there is no under
standing by it, what is pawned toere, wbether a hundred
pound in money, or a hundred weight of stones : if he
should inquire of the man what he meant, and he should
reply, You have no business to search my heart, or to turn
my heart inside out ; you are obliged in charity to under
stand my words ire the most favourable sense ; would Mr.
W. in this case stick to his own received rule ? would he
regard such a profession, or run the venture of one six
pence upon it ? Would he not rather look on such a man
as affronting him, and treating him as though he would
make a fool of him ? And would not he know, that every
body else would think him a fool, if he should suffer him
self to be gulled by such professions, in things which con
cern his own private interest ? And yet it seems, this is
the way in which he thinks he ought to conduct himself
as a minister of Christ, and one intrusted by him in affairs
wherein his honour and the interests of his kingdom are
concerned. And no w I desire it may be judged by such as are pos
sessed of human understanding, and are not disabled by
prejudice from exercising it, whether this notion of Mr.
W.'s, of making a solemn profession of gospel-holiness in
- words of indiscriminate meaning, be not too absurd to be
received by the reason God has given mankind. — This
peculiar notion of his is apparently the life and soul of
his scheme ; the main pillar of his temple, on which the
whole weight of the building rests ; which if it be broken,
the whole falls to the ground, and buries the builder, or at
least his work, in its ruins. For if tois notion of his be
disproved, then inasmuch as it is agreed, that true godli
ness must be professed, it will follow, that it must be pro
fessed in words properly signifying fee thing by a deter
minate meaning, which therefore no ungodly men can use,
and speak true ; and that therefore men must have true
godliness in order to a right in toe sight of God to make
such profession, and to receive the privileges depending
thereon : which implies and infers all those principles of
mine which Mr. W. opposes in his book, and confutes all
that he says in opposition to them .

SECT. V.
Showing that Mr. Williams, in supposing that unsanctified
men may profess such things, as lie allows must be pro
fessed, and yet speak true, is inconsistent with Mr. Stod
dard, and with himself.
Mr. W. denies, that in order to men being admitted to
sacraments, they need make any peculiar profession, dis
tinguished from what an unregenerate man may make,
(p. 44. c. p. 50. e. 6. c. _. e. 9. c. 10. c. e. 45. e. 46. a. and
53. e.) or that they need to profess any thing but what an
unregenerate man may say, and speak true. (p. 47. c.)
And that they need make no profession but what is com
patible with an unregenerate state, (p. 8. d. e.) And yet
the reader has seen what things he says all must profess in
order to come to sacraments. One thing he says they
must profess, is a real conviction of the heart, of the divine
truth of God's word ; that they do sincerely and with all
their hearts believe the gospel. And these things, he says,
are agreeable to the opinion of Mr. Stoddard, and the
doctrine he taught, (p. 32. .. c. and p. 36. a.) Let us
compare these things with the doctrine Mr. S. taught. Mr.
S. taught, that natural men do not believe the gospel, •
(Benef. ofthe Gosp. p. 89. b.) toat toey do not properly
believe fee word of God. (Guide to Christ, p. 26. d.)
That they do not believe the testimony of God, do not lay
weight on the word of God ; that they do not believe the
report ofthe gospel. (Safety of Ap. Edit. 2. p. 229. c. e.)
that they do not receive God's testimony, nor lay weight

on it. (Ibid. p. 99.) That there is no man, how great soever
his profession, how large soever his knowledge, that con
tinues in a natural condition, who thoroughly believes
that truth ; i. e. that men may be saved by Christ's right
eousness. (Ibid. p. 4. d. and p. 5. d. e.) That common
illumination does not convince men of toe truth of the
gospel. (Benef. of the Gosp. p. 148, 149.) How then
could it be fee doctrine Mr. S. taught, that natural men
may really and with all their hearts believe and be con
vinced of the truth of the gospel '!
And Mr. W. himself, in his sermons on Christ a King
and Witness, (p. 114, 115.) says, "man since the fall is
naturally ignorant of divine truth, and an enemy to it,
and full of prejudices against the truth:" and further,
(ibid. p. 114.) "The renewing of the Holy Ghost makes
an universal change of the heart and life.  He knows
the doctrine contained in the Bible in a new manner.—
Before, be had a view of the truth as a doubtful uncertain
thing ; he received it as a thing which was probably true;
— and perhaps for the most part it appeared something
likely to answer the end proposed.— But now toe gospel
appears to him divinely true and real," &c. But how do
these things consist with men being, before conversion,
sincerely and with all their hearts convinced of toe divine
truth of the gospel ? Can that be, and yet men view it as
a doubtful uncertain thing, as not yet appearing to them
divinely true and real ?
Again, Mr. W. supposes, that some unsanctified men
may speak true, ana profess a hearty consent to the
terms of the covenant of grace, a compliance with the call
of the gospel, submission to the proposals of it, satisfaction
with that device for our salvation that is revealed in the
gospel, and with the offer which God makes of himself
to be our God in Christ Jesus, a fervent desire of Christ
and the benefits of the covenant of grace, and an earnest
purpose and resolution to seek salvation on the terms of
it, (p. 11. c.) and a falling in with the terms of salvation
proposed in the gospel, with a renouncing of all other vyays,
(which he speaks of as agreeable to Mr. Stoddard's
opinion, p. 32. b.c.) Quite contrary to the current doctrine
of Calvinistic divines ; contrary ' to the opinion of Mr.
Guthrie, whom he cites as a witness in his favour, (pref.
p. 4.) who insists on satisfaction with toat device for our
salvation which is revealed in the gospel, and wife fee
offer which God makes of himself to be our God in
Christ, as the peculiar nature of saving faith. And con
trary xto the pnnciples of Mr. Perkins (another autbor be
quotes as his voucher) delivered in these very words, wbich
Mr. W. cites in the present point, (p. 11.) "That a desire
of the favour and mercy of God in Christ, and the means
to attain that favour, is a special grace of God, and hath
the promise of blessedness :— That wicked men cannot
sincerely desire these means of eternal life, faith, repent
ance, mortification, reconciliation," &c. And it is exceed
ingly contrary to the constant doctrine of Mr. Stoddard,
(though he says it was his opinion,) who ever insisted, that
all unconverted sinners under the gospel are so far from
heartily consenting to the covenant of grace— and comply
ing with the call of the gospel, and falling in with fee
terms of salvation proposed in it, renouncing all other
ways, as Mr. W. supposes— that they are wilful rejecters
of Christ, despisers of the gospel, and obstinate refusers
of offered mercy. So he says, "The man that has but
common grace— sets himself against the way of salvation
which God prescribes." (Nat. of Sav. Conv.) "In
awakened sinners, it is not merely from weakness, but
from pride and sturdiness of spirit, toat they do not come
to Chnst." (Safety of Ap. p. 229. c. d.) And in other places
he says, that it is from the hardness and stubbornness of
natural men's hearts, toat they do not comply with fee
gospel ; That there is a mighty opposition in their hearts
to believe in Christ, because it is cross to their haughty
spirits ; That they are enemies to this way of salvation ;
That they are dreadfully averse to come to Christ. (See
Book of three Sermons, p. 84. Guide to Christ, p. 55. c.
Scifety of Ap. p. 106. and 194. e.)
And this scheme of our author is in a glaring manner
contrary to the doctrine of Mr. Williams himself, in his
sermon on Isa. xiv. 11. fp. 25, 26, 27.) Speaking to those
whose natures remain unrenewed and unsanctified (see his

Sect. V.

MR. W. INCONSISTENT WITH MR. S. &.c

499

words p. 25. _.) he says, p. 27. b. c. " You are opposing
all the means of your own deliverance and salvation. The
offers of grace, fee allurements and invitations of the great
Saviour of the world, have all been ineffectual to persuade
you to accept of deliverance from a slavery you are will
ingly held in. Nay, you strive against the liberty of toe
sons of God, and labour to find out all manner of diffi
culties and hinderances in the way of it. If you pray for
it, you do not desire it should yet come, but would stay a
while longer." And are these the persons who can truly
profess, that they comply with the call of the gospel, and
submit to the proposals of it, and are satisfied with the
device for our salvation, and with the offers of toe gospel,
and consent to the terms of the covenant of grace with all
their hearts, renouncing all other ways ? It is not much
more easy to make these things consist with what he says
in his answer to Mr. Croswell, (p. 26. b. c.) He toere
says, "There is not a son nor daughter of Adam excluded
from salvation, who will accept Christ upon God's offer,
and take bim in his person and offices, and whole work of
redemption, to be their Saviour, and they find themselves
willing to accept of Christ as so offered to them, and
pleased with that device for their salvation, and
heartily choosing him to be to them, and in them, wisdom,
righteousness, sanctification, and redemption." (See also
to fee same purpose, Ibid. p. 32. e. and p. 33. a. b. and
p. 94. c.)
Mr. W. though he holds, toat it is lawful for some un
sanctified men to come to sacraments, yet supposes it not
to be lawful for those toat are lukewarm in religion to come.
(p. 35. d. e.) So that according to his scheme some un
sanctified professors are above lukewarmness : that is to
say, their hearts within them are truly hot or fervent with
christian zeal, and they such as Christ will never spue out
of his mouth ; in a great inconsistence with the Scripture.
He suggests, that it is an injury done to the cause of truth,
in me, to represent Mr. Stoddard as being of another
opinion, (p. 35. c. d. e.) But let us see whether such a
representation be an injury to truth or no. Mr. S. taught,
that natural men have no sincerity in them. (Guide to
Christ, p. 60, 61.) That their hearts are dead as a stone,
that toere is no disposition or inclination to any thing that
is good, but a total emptiness of all goodness. (Ibid. p.
63. b.) That some of them have considerable shows of
goodness, there is an appearance of good desires, &c. but
there is notoing of goodness in all this ; that all they do
is in hypocrisy. (Benef. of the Gos. p. 73. d. c.) That
they are acted by a lust oi self-love in all their religion ;
— If they are swept and garnished, they are empty : there
may be some similitude of faith and love, but no reality,
not a spark of goodness in their hearts ; though corruption
may be restrained, yet it reigns. He speaks abundantly
to fee same purpose in his sermon, entitled, Natural men
are under the government of self-love.
And Mr. W. himself, in his sermon on Psal. xci. 1.
describing carnal men, by which- he means the same with
unconverted men, (as is evident through the book, particu
larly p. 36. c.) says, p. 27, 28. that to such " Religion
looks like a dull unpleasant kind of exercises, and so dif
ferent from the sensual joys and pleasures which they
choose, that they hate to set about it, as long as toey dare
let it alone ; and would do as little as ever toey can at it :
— That when toey durst not let it alone any longer, they
set about it, but would fain despatch it as soon and as
easily as they can ; because it seems to them a miserable
uncomfortable sort of life. Ask your own conscience,
fsays he,) see if this be not the truth of the case." — Now
let the reader judge, whether this be a description of per
sons whom it would be injurious to represent as having
nothing above lukewarmness.
Another thing, which Mr. W. supposes must be professed
in order to come to sacraments, and therefore according to
him is what an unsanctified man can profess, and speak
true, is, " That they with all their hearts cast themselves
upon the mercy of God, to help them to keep covenant."
(p. 31 . e. and p.' 32. a.) And yet elsewhere he mentions a
depending on Christ for things of this nature, as a discri
minating mark of a true Christian. (Ser. on Christ a
Kingand Witness,p.l9c.) Underauseof examination, he
there says, " Do you depend on Christ to protect you
2 k 2

from all your spiritual enemies, to restore you to holiness,
to subdue all your heart to the will of God, to make you
partakers of his image and moral perfections, and in that
way to preserve and lead you to your true perfection and
eternal happiness."
Mr. W. supposes (p. 36. a. b. c.) that the profession
men must make in order to come to sacraments, implies
real friendship to God, loving God more than his enemies,
loving him above the world ; and therefore according to
Mr. W. unsanctified men may make this profession also,
and speak true : contrary to the whole current of Scrip
ture, which represents unsanctified men as the enemies of
God, those that have not the love of God in them, under
the power of a carnal mind, &c— And contrary to the
unanimous voice of all sound divines, yea, of fee whole
christian world. Mr. W. in the forementioned place blames
me, that I had intimated (as he supposes) that toe profes
sion which Mr. Stoddard taught to be necessary, did not
imply real friendship, and loving God above his enemies,
and above the world. Let us then compare this with Mr.
S — d's doctrine, as extant in his writings. He speaks of
it as a property of saving grace, wherein it specifically
differs from common grace, that a true love to God prizes
God above all the world. (Nat. of Sav. Conv. p. 7. .. c.)
That every natural man prefers vain and base things before
God. (Ibid. p. 96. _.) That they are all enemies to God,
and the very being of God. (Ibid. p. 5. c. _. and p. 97.)
That their hearts are full of enmity to God. (Ibid. p. 55.
e.) That they have an aversion to those gracious actions of
loving God, and trusting in Christ, and are under the
dominion of a contrary inclination. (Ibid. p. 67.) That
toose of them whose consciences are enlightened, and are
reforming their lives, have no love ; and that it is a burden
to them that they suspect there is such a God, that they
wish there was not such an one. And that they are haters
of God, and are so addicted to their own interest, that
they have a bitter spirit towards God, have an ill affection
to him, and are adversaries to his felicity. (Ibid. p. 97.
Three Serm. p. 38, 39.) That they are governed by a
spirit of self-love, and are wholly destitute of love to God ;
that some of them confess that they have but little love to
God ; but indeed they have not one spark of love to God
in their hearts. (Three Serm. p. 48.) That they set their
interest at the right hand of God's glory,— as if God's
honour were not to be regarded, compared with their in
terest, &c. &c. (Ibid. p. 63, 64.)
So Mr. W. himself (Christ a Kingand Witness, p. 145.
e.) plainly supposes, that before conversion men love the
world more than God. For, speaking of the nature of the
change wrought in conversion, he says, things are quite
turned about, God and Christ are got into the place the
world had before. Again (Ibid. p. 18. b.) he says, " You
must know that there is no man who is not either a true
subject to Christ, or his enemy. That man wbo does not
submit to Christ as his King and Lord, by bearing true
faith and allegiance to him, is the enemy of Christ and his
kingdom. Such are all they who will not depend on him,
believe in him, give up themselves and all to him." And
again, (p. 106. e. 107. a.) " Man since the fall has a na
tural unlikeness to God, and hates the holiness and purity
ofthe divine nature." And in his sermon on Isa. xiv. 11.
he says to his hearers, If your nature remain unrenewed
and unsanctified, — you are the enemies of God and Christ
by wicked works, and an impure heart. — But yet now it
seems, some of these may profess real friendship to Christ,
and loving him above the world, and speak true.
And these things are no less inconsistent with what Mr.
W. says in the very book under consideration. He here
says, (p. 36.) " Why should any divine now tell us, that
these same professions do not imply that there are any
pretences of any real friendship, that they import no pre
tence of loving God more, yea, not so much, as his ene
mies, no pretence to love God above the world ?" When
he himself is the divine that tells us so, or plainly sup
poses so in this very book of his. For, in p. 8, 9. having
mentioned the profession communicants may be required
to make, he then says, that such a profession contains all
that is essential to true religion in it ; and if this is the
fruit of the love of God, it is true godliness : plainly sup
posing, that persons may have these things without the

500

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II

love of God ; as the reader will see more evidently if he
views the place. So that the profession must imply real
friendship, and love to God, even above the world ; and
yet must contain only such things as may be with or
without the love of God indiscriminately.
Mr. W. allows, that in order to come to sacraments
men ought to profess a subjection to Christ with all their
hearts, (p. 10. _.) and to be devoted to the service of God,
(p. 49. _.) and to give up themselves to Christ, to be
taught, ruled, and led by him in a gospel-way to salvation,
(p. 31. e. and p. 32. a.) And though he and Mr. Stoddard
taught, that it is lawful for some unsanctified men to come
to sacraments, yet Mr. W. supposes it to be unlawful for
any to come to sacraments serving two masters ; and says
Mr. S. taught that they ought to covenant with God with
their whole hearts, and give up all their hearts and lives to
Christ. We are therefore to understand Mr. W. that some
unsanctified men can profess all these things, and speak
true. Strange doctrine for a christian divine ! Let us see
whether Mr. S. taught such doctrine. He taught that faith
in Christ is the first act of obedience that any sinner does
perform ; that it is by faith that a man first gives himself
to be God's servant. (Safety of App. p. 228. e. p. 229. a.)
That all those who are not converted, are under the do
minion of sin, enemies to God. (Ibid. p. 5. c. _.) That
there is no obedience to God in what they do, who have
only common grace ; that they do not attend the will of
God. (Ibid. p. 7. _.) That all ungodly men are servants
of Satan, and live in a way of rebellion against God. ( Ibid.
p. 94. ..) That they are enemies to the authority of God ;
to the wisdom, power, and justice of God, yea to the very
being of God ; they have a preparedness of heart to all
wickedness that is committed in the world, if God did not
restrain toem ; that if they were in the circumstances that
the fallen angels are in they would be as the very devils.
(Ibid. p. 95.) That their hearts are like the hearts of
devils, as full of sin as a toad is full of poison, having no
inclination to any thing that is good. (Guide to Christ, p.
68. see also Benef. ofthe Gos. p. 130. a. b.) That they
utterly neglect fee end they were made for, and make it
their business to serve themselves ; they care not whether
God's glory sinks or swims. ( Three Sermons, p. 62.) That
they hate God, because God crosses them in his laws.
(Ibid. p. 38. c.) These are the men, which Mr. W. supposes
must, and may (some of them) truly profess a subjection
to Christ with "all their hearts, and to be devoted to Christ ;
and fee men that Mr. S. taught, might covenant with God
with their whole hearts, and give up all their hearts and
lives to Christ. Mr. Stoddard taught, that men that have
but common grace, go quite in another path than that
which God directs'to — That they set themselves against
the way of salvation God prescribes. (Safety, p. 10.)
That man in his natural state is an enemy to the way of
salvation ; that he is an enemy to the law of God, and the
gospel of Jesus Christ. (Ibid. p. 106. b. c.) But yet
these, if we believe Mr. W . may truly profess a subjection
to Christ with all their hearts, and give up themselves to
him, to be taught, ruled, and led by him m a gospel-way
of salvation. Yet if we believe him, we must have the
trouble of disbelieving him again ; for in these things he
is as inconsistent with himself, as he is with Mr. S. For
in his sermon on Isa. xiv. 11. (p. 26, 27.) he says to those
whose natures are unrenewed and unsanctified, " If you
are without Christ, you are in a state of slavery to sin, led
about of divers lusts, and under the reigning power and
dominion of your corruptions, which debase your souls,
and bring them down from the dignity of their nature, to
the vilest, most shameful, and accursed bondage. And by
means of sin, ye are in bondage to the devii, the most
hateful and accursed enemy of God and your own souls ;*
— and are opposing all the means of your own deliver
ance. The offers of grace, the calls and invitations of the
gospel, have all been ineffectual to persuade you to accept
of deliverance from a slavery you are willingly held in.
Nay, you strive against the liberty of the sons of God."
And yet some of these are (if we believe what Mr. W.
now says) subject to Christ with all their hearts, give up
all their hearts and lives to Christ, and give up themselves
* And yet now it seems, some such do serve but one master, and give

to be taught, ruled, and led by him in a gospel-way to
salvation.— Mr. W. in his sermons on Christ a King and
Witness, (p. 81.) under a use of examination, giving marks
of trial, says, " Have you unreservedly given up your
souls and bodies to him f [viz. Christ.] You must be all
Christ's, and have no other master. You must be
given to him without reserve, both in body and spirit,
which are his." But now it seems, these are no discrimi
nating evidences of true piety: he says, (Ibid. p. 118.)
" A man naturally hates God should reign. And (p. 119.

owns i._
is not subject to God with all his heart. _
Our author in the book more especially attended to,
says, (p. 31. d. e.) He knows of nobody who has any
controversy with me in what he calls my loose way of
arguing, in my saying, " The nature of things seems to
afford no good reason why the people of Christ should not
openly profess a proper respect to him in their hearts, as
well as a true notion of him in their heads." And then, ni
that and toe following page, proceeds to show what respect
Mr. S. and those toat think with him, suppose men must
profess in order to come to the Lord's supper ; and (in p.
33. a.) speaks of such a profession as is equally honour
able to Christ with a profession of saving grace. And,
as according to Mr. W. no profession discriminating what
is professed from common grace, can be required, so com
mon grace must be supposed to be a proper respect to
Christ in the heart. Now let us see what Mr. S. says.
"There is (says he) an opposition between saving and
common grace ; — they have a contrariety one to another,
and are at war one with the other, and would destroy one
fee other. — Common graces are lusts, and do oppose
saving grace." (Nat. of Sav. Conv. p. 9. d. e.) " Men
that are in a natural condition, such of them as are ad
dicted to morality and religion, are serving their lusts
therein. The most orderly natural men do live an ungodly
life ; — yea, their very religion is iniquity." (Ibid. p. 96,
97.) — " Their best works are not only sinful, but propei ly
sins ; they are acted by a spirit of lust in all that they
do." (Sqf. of App. p. 168. _.)— " Moral virtues do- not
render men acceptable to God ; for though they look like
virtues, yet toey are lusts." (Ibid. p. 81.) — Now the
question plainly is, Whether lust can be a proper respect to
Christ in the heart ? And, Whether a profession which
implies no more in it, be equally honourable to Christ, as
a credible profession of a gracious respect to him ?

SECT. VI.
Concerning visibility witjtout apparent probability.
Mr. Stoddard (Appeal, p. 16.) says thus : " Such
persons as the apostles did admit into gospel churches, are
fit to be admitted into them ; but they admitted many that
had not a thorough work of regeneration. Indeed by the
rule that God has given for admissions, if carefully attend
ed, more unconverted persons will be admitted, than con
verted." This passage I took notice of in my book, where I say,
" I would humbly inquire, How those visible qualifications
can be the ground of a rational judgment, that a person is
circumcised in heart, which nevertheless at the same time,
we are sensible, are so far from being probable signs of it,
that they are more frequently without it than with it," &c.
This seems to be a terrible thing in Mr. W.'s way, which
he strikes at from time to time ; and is an impediment he
boggles at exceedingly. One while he pretends, he can
give a sufficient answer, (p. 7, 8.) At another time he
pretends, that I remove the difficulty myself, (p. 12.)
Then again, in the same page, he pretends to solve the
difficulty ; and then in the next page pretends, that if the
case be as I say, That we cannot form a rational judgment
that a thing is, which, at the same time, and under that
degree of light we then stand in, it more probably is a mis
taken one than not, yet it can argue nothing to fee case ;
up themselves to Christ to be led by him.

Sect. VI.

OF VISIBILITY WITHOUT PROBABILITY.

501

seeing the judgment we do form, is directed by a rale
which is appointed for us. But still as if not satisfied
with these answers and remarks, he seems afterwards to
suggest, that Mr. S. did not express this as his own senti
ment, but as Mr. Cotton's, as a gentleman of the same
principles with Mr. Mather, using it as argumentum ad
hominem. See p. 33.
In p. 34. a. he expressly says, " Mr. S. does not say,
That when the rule which God has given for admissions
is carefully attended, it leaves reason to believe, that the
greaterpart of those who are admitted, are enemies to God,"
&c. — True, he does not say this in terms ; but he says,
" more unconverted persons will be admitted, than con
verted :" — which is equivalent. And (p. 133. a.) Mr. W.
presumes confidently to affirm, toat Mr. S. says this [the
thing forementioned] not with peculiar relation to his own
scheme, but only as an application of a saying of Mr.
Cotton's, who was of a different opinion, and said upon a
different scheme ; to show, that upon their own principles,
the matter will not be mended. But this is contrary to
the most plain fact. For Mr. S. having said, The apostles
admitted many unconverted, he immediately adds the
passage in dispute, indeed by the rule, &c. plainly express
ing his own sentiment ; though he backs it wife a saying
of Mr. Cotton's. So, Mr. Cotton's words come in as a
confirmation of Mr. S — d's ; and not Mr. S— d's as an
application of Mr. Cotton's. However, Mr. W. delivers
the same sentiment as his own, once and again, in his book :
he delivers it as his own sentiment, (p. 34.) that probably
many more hypocrites, than real saints, do make such a
profession, as that which must be accepted. He delivers
it as his own sentiment, (p. 61 . e.) That the apostles judged
it likely, that of the Christians taken into the church under
their direction, as many were hypocrites in proportion to
their number, as to those that were taken into the Jewish
church. And as to toe latter, he delivers it as his senti
ment, (p. 24. a.) that the body of the people were not
regenerate. So that, according to his own sentiments,
when the apostolical rule of taking in is observed, the
body of those who are admitted will be hypocrites.
Now therefore, I desire that this matter may be examin
ed to the very bottom. — And here let it be considered,
whether the truth of the following toings be not incon
testable. 1 . If indeed by the rule God has given for admissions,
when it is carefully attended, more unconverted persons will
be admitted, thin converted ; then it will follow, That just
such a visibility or visible appearance of saintship as toe
rule requires, is more frequently without real saintship,
than with it.
2. If Mr. S. and Mr. W. had just reason from the Holy
Scripture, and Divine Providence, to think thus, and to
publish such a sentiment, and the christian church has
good reason to believe toem ; then God has given toe
christian church in its present state (dark and imperfect as
it is) good reason to think so too.
3. If Christ by toe rale he has given for admissions,
requires his churches to receive such a visibility or appear
ance, which he has given the same churches at the same
time reason to judge to be an appearance that for the most
part is without godliness, or more frequently connected
with ungodliness ; then he requires them to receive such
an appearance, as he at the same time has given them
reason to think does not imply a probability of godliness,
but is attended rather with a probability of ungodliness.
For that is the notion of probability ; an appearance, which.
so far as we have means to judge, is for the most part con
nected with the thing.* Therefore fee sign or appearance,
let it be what it will, implies a probability of that which
we have reason to think it is for the most part connected
or attended with. Where there is only probability with
out certainty, there is a peradventure in the case on both
sides ; or in vulgar language, the supposition on both
sides stands a chance to be true. But toat side which
most commonly proves true in such a case, stands fee
* Mr. Locke thus defines probability. (Hum. Und.lth Edit 8vo. Vol. II.
p. 273. ) " Probability is nothing but the appearance of such an agreement
or disagreement, by the intervention of proofs, whose connexion is not
constant and immutable, or at least is not perceived to be so ; but is, or
appears for thk most part to be so; and is enough to induce the mind to
judge the proposition to be true, or false, rather than the contrary.

best chance ; and therefore properly on that side lies the
probability. 4. That cannot be a credible visibility or appearance,
which is not a probable appearance. To say, a thing is
credible and not probable, is a contradiction. And it is
impossible rationally to judge a thing true, and at the same
time rationally to judge a thing most probably not true.
Therefore it is absurd (not to say worse) to talk of any
divine institution, leading us thus to judge. It would be
to suppose, that God by his institution has made that
judgment rational, which he at the same time makes im
probable, and therefore irrational.
This notion of admitting members into the church of
Christ without and against probability of true piety, is not
only very inconsistent wife itself, but very inconsistent
with what the common light of mankind teaches in their
dealings one with another. Common sense teaches all man
kind, in admission of members into societies,at least societies
formed for very great and important purposes, to admit
none but those concerning whom there is an apparent pro
bability, that they are the hearty friends of the society, and
of the main designs and interests of it ; and especially not
to admit such concerning whom there is a greater proba
bility of their being habitual fixed enemies. But thus it
is, according to Mr. S.'s and Mr. W.'s doctrine, as well as
the doctrine of the Scripture, with all unsanctified men, in
regard to the church of Christ. They are enemies to the
head of the society, enemies to his honour and authority,
and the work of salvation in the way of the gospel ; the
upholding and promoting of which is the main design of
the society. The church is represented in Scripture as the
household of God, in a peculiar manner intrusted with the
care of his name and honour in toe world, the interests
of his kingdom, the care of his jewels, and most precious
things. And would not common sense teach an earthly
prince not to admit into his household, such as he had no
reason to look upon so much as probable friends and loyal
subjects in their hearts ; but rather friends and slaves in
their hearts to his enemies and competitors for his crown
and dignity ? The visible church of Christ is often repre
sented as his city and his army. Now would not common
sense teach the inhabitants of a besieged city to open the
gates to none, but those concerning whom there is at least
an apparent probability of their not being enemies ? And
would any imagine, that in a militant state of things it is
a likely way to promote the interest of the war, to fill up
the army with such as are more likely to be on the ene
mies' side in their hearts, than on the side of their lawful
and rightful prince, and his faithful soldiers and subjects.

SECT. VII.
Concerning the Lord's supper being a converting ordinance.
Though Mr. W. holds, that none are to be admitted to
the Lord's supper, but such as make a credible profession
of real godliness, and are to be admitted under that notion,
and with respect to such a character appearing on them ;
yet he holds at the same time, that the Lord's supper is a
converting ordinance, an ordinance designed for the bring
ing of some men that have no such a character, to be of
such a character, (p. 14. c. d. p. 15. p. 35. a. 6. p. 83. b.
p. 100. e. 101. a. 126, 127.) It is evident, that the mean
ing of those divines who speak of the Lord's supper as a
converting ordinance, is not merely that God in his sove
reign providence will use it as an occasion of the conver
sion of some ; but that it is a converting means by his in
stitution given to men, appointing them to use it for this
purpose. Thus Mr. Stoddard expressly declares, That the
Lord's supper is instituted to be a means of regeneration,
(Doct. of Inst. Churches, p. 22. a.) instituted for the con
version of sinners, as well as the confirmation of saints ;
(Appeal, p. 70. c. p. 71. a.) that the direct end of it is con
version, when the subject that it is administered unto
And Mr. W. himself (p. 139.) says, " It is moral evidence of gospel
sincerity, which God's word makes the church's rule," &c. Now does
such an appearance, as we have reason at the same time to think is more
frequently without gospel-holiness than with it. amount to moral evidence
of gospel-sincerity.

502

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

stands in need of conversion. (Ibid. p. 73, 74.) And thus
Mr. W. after Mr. S. speaks of the Lord's supper as by
Christ's appointment a proper means of conversion of
some that are unconverted; (p. 100. e. 101. a.) so he speaks
of it as instituted for the conversion of sinners, (p. 126,
and 127.)
Now if so, what need of men being, to rational charity,
converted already, in order to their coming to the Lord's
supper ? Is it reasonable to suppose God would institute
this ordinance directly for that end, that sinners might be
converted by it ; and then charge his ministers and churches
not to admit any that they had not reasonable ground to
think were converted already? — Mr. W. (in p. 83. b.)
supposes two ends of Christ's appointing the communion
of the christian church ; that such as have grace already
should be under proper advantages to gain more, and that
those who have none, should be under proper advantages
to attain grace. But this ill consists with other parts of his
scheme. — If a king should erect an hospital for the help of
the poor, and therein has two ends ; one, the nourishing of
such as are in health, and the other, the healing of the sick ;
and furnishes the hospital accordingly, with proper food for
the healthy, and proper remedies for the sick : but at the
same time charges the officers, to whom he commits the
care ofthe hospital, by no means to admit any, unless it be
under a notion of their being in health, and from respect to
such a qualification in them, and unless they have reason
able ground and moral evidence to induce them to believe
that they are well : and if tois pretence should be made to
justify such a conduct, toat the hospital was indeed design
ed for the healing of the sick, yet it was designed to confer
this benefit only on such diseased people as were hypo
crites, and made a profession and pretence of being in
health ; will any man presume to say, that such a conduct
is agreeable to the dictates of the understanding of rational
beings ? And to suppose, that such should be the conduct
of the infinitely wise God, is as unscriptural, as it is un
reasonable. We often read in God's word, of men's being
convinced of their wickedness, and confessing their sins,
as a way to be healed and cleansed from sin : but where do
we read of men's pretending to more goodness than they
have, and making a hypocritical profession and show of
goodness, in order to their becoming good men'.'* Where
have we a divine institution, that any who are wolves should
put on sheep's clothing, and so come to his people, that they
may believe them to be sheep, and under this notion re
ceive them into the flock, to the end that they may truly
become of his sheep ?
But to examine this matter, of the Lord's supper being
a converting ordinance to ungodly men professing godli
ness, a little more exactly. If Christ has appointed the
Lord's supper to be a converting ordinance to some such
as these, then he has appointed it either Qnly for such of
them as are mistaken, and think themselves godly when
they are not ; or he has appointed it not only for such,
but also for such as are sensible they are ungodly.
If it be appointed as a converting ordinance only for such
as are mistaken, and think themselves converted; then
here is an institution of Christ, which never can, in any one
instance, be made use of to the end for which he has ap
pointed men to use it. It cannot be used for this end by
those who admit members, and administer the ordinance :
for they, as Mr. W. says, must admit none but such as
they are bound by the rule of Christ to look upon as godly
men already, and to administer the sacrament to them un
der that notion, and with respect to such a character.
Neither can it be used to such a purpose by any of the com
municants : for by the supposition, they must be all such
as think they are converted already, and also come under
that notion. So that by this scheme of things, here is an
institution appointed to be upheld and used in the church,
which the institution itself makes void and impossible.
For, as was observed before, the notion of a converting
ordinance has not reference to any secret decree of God,
* Mr. Williams (p. 42.) owns that persons must make a profession where
in they make a show of being wise virgins, in order to come into the
visible church. And (p. 35. e.) he owns, that all visible saints who are not
truly pious, are hypocrites. Again, it may be observed, he abundantly in
sists, that men who have no more than common grace and moral sincerity,
may lawfully come to sacraments ; and yet by what he says, (p. 35. e.) they
must profess more. So that men who have no more must profess more ;

how he in his sovereign pleasure will sometimes use it » put
to his institution given to men, appointing the end for which
they should use it. Therefore, on the present supposition,
the institution appoints the Lord's supper to be used in
some cases for the conversion of sinners, but at the same
time forbids its being either given or received under any
other notion than that of the communicant's being convert
ed already : which is in effect to forbid its being either
given or received for the conversion ofthe communicant, in
any one instance. So that the institution effectually de
stroys and disannuls itself— But God forbid, that we
should ascribe any such inconsistent institutions to the
Divine Head of the church ! , _ ¦ _
Or if the other part ofthe disjunction be taken, and it be
said, the Lord's supper is appointed for the conversion of
some that are sensible they are ungodly or unconverted, the
consequence is no less absurd, on Mr. W.'s principles.
For then the scheme is this. The institution requires some
men to make a pretence of real piety, and to make a pub
lic solemn profession of gospel-holiness^ which at the same
time they are sensible they nave not ; and this, to the end
that others may look upon them to be real saints, and re
ceive them to the Lord's supper under that notion : not
putting on a disguise, and making a show of what they
have not, through mistake, but doing it consciously and
wilfully, to the honour and glory of God : and all this .
strictly required of them, as the instituted means of their
becoming real saints, and the children of God !
Mr. W. says, (p. 14. _.) " Since it is God's will, that his
church should admit all such visible saints, {viz. such as
he had been speaking of,] it follows, that fee Lord's sup
per is a converting ordinance to such of them as are un
converted." But Mr. W. is mistaken as to his conse
quence. The Lord's supper is not instituted to be a
converting ordinance to all unconverted men, whom it is
God's will the cburch should admit. For it may be the
church's duty, and so God's will, to admit those that live
secretly in the grossest wickedness, as adultery, unclean-
ness, deism, &c. Such men as these may make a fair
profession, and the church may be ignorant of their secret
wickedness, and therefore may have no warrant to reject
them : but yet it will not follow, that God by his institu
tion has given such a lawful right to the Lord's supper,
having appointed it to be a converting ordinance to them.

SECT. VIII.
The notion of moral sincerity's being the qualification,
which gives a lawful right to christian sacraments,
examined.Though our author disdains the imputation of any such
notion, as that of men's being called visible and professed
saints from respect to a visibility and profession of moral
sincerity : yet it is manifest, that in his scheme (whether
consistently or no, others must judge) moral sincerity is the
qualification which entitles, and gives a lawful right, to
sacraments. For he holds, that it is lawful for unsancti
fied men, who have this qualification, to come to sacra
ments ; and that it is not lawful for them to come without
it. Therefore I desire this notion may be thoroughly ex
amined. And for the greater clearness, let it be observed what
sincerity in general is. Now sincerity, in the general no
tion of it, is are honest conformity of some profession or out
ward show of some inward property or act of mind, to the
truth and reality of it. If there be a show or pretence of
what is not, and has no real existence, then the pretence is
altogether vain ; it is only a pretence, and nothing else :
and therefore is a pretence or show without any sincerity,
of any kind, either moral or gracious.
I now proceed to offer the following arguments against
and this, it seems, according to divine institution ! — Again he says, fp. 35.
a. b. c.) That one end God designed by appointing men to be brought into
the church, is, that through divine grace they might effectually be Drought
to Christ, to give him the whole possession of their hearts ; and yet in the
very next paragraph (p. 35. e. and 36. a. ) he speaks of it as unlawful for men
to come to sacraments till they give up all their liearts to Christ.

Sect. VIII.

OF MORAL SINCERITY.

503

the notion of moral sincerity being the qualification, which
gives a lawful right to sacraments.
I. There is no such thing as moral sincerity, in the
covenant of grace, distinct from gracious sincerity. If any
sincerity at all be requisite in order to a title to fee seals of
the covenant of grace, doubtless it is the sincerity which
belongs to that covenant. But there is only one sort of
sincerity which belongs to that covenant ; and that is a
gracious sincerity. Thereis but onesopt of faith belonging
to that covenant ; and that is saving faith in Jesus Christ,
called in Scripture unfeigned faith. As for the faith of
devils, it is not the faith of the covenant of grace.
Here the distinction of an internal and external cove
nant, will nothelp at all ; as long as the covenant, of which
the sacraments are seals, is a covenant of salvation, or a
covenant proposing terms of eternal salvation. The sacra
ments are seals of such a covenant. They are seals of the
New Testament in Christ's blood, (Matt. xxvi. 28. Luke
xxii. 28.) a Testament which has better promises than the
¦ Old, (Heb. viii. 6.) and which toe apostle tells us, makes
us heirs of the eternal inheritance. (Heb. ix. 15.) — Mr. W.
himself speaks of the covenant sealed in baptism, as the
covenant proposing terms of salvation, (p. 23. b. c.) So he
speaks ofthe covenant entered into by a visible people, as
the covenant ire which God offers everlasting happiness.
(p. 24, 25.) But there is no other religion, no other sin
cerity, belonging to this covenant of salvation, but that
which accompanies salvation, or is saving religion and sin
cerity. As it is written, (Psal. li. 6.) " Behold, thou de-
sirest truth in the inward parts."
There is what may be called a moral sincerity, in distinc
tion from saving; in many moral things ; as in loving our
friends and neighbours, in loving our country, in choosing
the protestant religion before the popish, in a conscientious
care to do many duties, in being willing to take a great deal
of pains in religion, in being sorrv for the commission of
such and such acts of wickedness, &c. But there are some
duties, which, unless they are done with a gracious sin
cerity, they cannot be done at all. As Mr. Stoddard ob
serves, (Safety of Ap. p. 216.) "There are some duties
which cannot be done but from a gracious respect to God."
Thus, there is but one sort of sincerity in loving God as
God, and setting our hearts on him as our highest happi
ness, loving him above the world, and loving holiness
above all the objects of our lusts. He that does not these
things with a gracious sincerity, never really doth them at
all. He that truly does them, is certainly a godly man ;
as we are abundantly assured by the word of God. So,
there is but one sort of sincere and cordial consent to the
covenant of grace, but one sort of giving all our hearts to
Jesus Christ; which things Mr. W. allows to be neces
sary, to come to sacraments. That to which a man's heart
is full of reigning enmitv, he cannot with any reality at all
cordially consent to and comply with : but the hearts of
unsanctified men are full of reigning enmity to the covenant
of grace, according to the doctrine of Scripture, and ac
cording to the doctrine of Mr. S. and Mr. W. too, as we
have seen before.
However, if there were any such thing, as being heartily
willing to accept of Christ, and a giving all our hearts to
Christ, without a saving sincerity, this would not be a
complying with the terms of a covenant of salvation. For
it is self-evident, that only something which is saving, is a
compliance with the terms of salvation. Now Mr. W.
himself often allows (as has been observed) that persons
must comply with the terms of the covenant of grace, in
order to come to sacraments. — Yet because he also in
effect denies it, I shall say something further in confirma
tion of it.
1. The sacraments are covenant privileges. Mr. W.
himself calls them so. (p. 5. a. b.) Covenant privileges
are covenant benefits, or benefits to which persons have a
right by the covenant. But persons can have no right to
any of the benefits of a covenant, without compliance with
its terms. For that is the very notion of the terms of a
covenant, viz. Terms of an interest in the benefits of that
covenant. It is so in all covenants whatsoever ; if a man
refuses to comply with its conditions, he can claim nothing
by that covenant.
2. If we consider the sacraments as seals of the cove

nant, the same thing is evident, viz. That a man can have
no right to them without a compliance with the terms.
The sacraments are not only seals of the offer on God's
part, or ordinances God has appointed as confirmations of
the truth of his covenant, as Mr. W. seems to insist, (p.
74, 75.) For considered merely as seals and confirmations
of the truth of the gospel, they are (as miracles and other
evidences of the christian religion) seals equally given to
Christians, Jews, Deists, moral and vicious, and the whole
world that knows of them. Whereas, it is manifest, in the
nature ofthe thing, sacraments are seals ofthe covenant to
be applied to the communicant, and of which he is the im
mediate subject, in a peculiar manner, as a party in cove
nant. Otherwise, what need would there be of his being
one of God's covenant people, in any sense whatsoever ?
But now it is not reasonable to suppose, that the seal of
the covenant belongs to any man, as a party in the cove
nant, who will not accept of and comply with the cove
nant. He that rejects the covenant, and will not comply
with it, has no interest in it. And he that has no interest
in the covenant, has no right to the seals; for the covenant
and seals go together. It is so in all covenants among
mankind ; after a man has come into a bargain proposed
and offered by another, yielding to the terms of it, he has
aright to have the bargain sealed, and confirmed to him, as
a party in the covenant ; but not before.
And if what the communicant does be a seal on his part
also, as the nature of the thing demonstrates, seeing he is
active in the matter, and as Mr. W. seems wilting to allow,
(p. 75.) it will follow, with equal evidence, that a man
cannot lawfully partake, unless he yields to and complies
with the covenant. To what purpose is a man's sealing an
instrument or contract, but to confirm it as his own act and
deed, and to declare his compliance with his part of the
contract. As when a servant seals his indenture, it is a
testimony and ratification of his compliance as to the pro
posed contract with his master. And if a covenant of
friendship be proposed between two parties, and they both
put their seal to it, hereby they both testify and declare
their mutual friendship.
It has been already observed, that unsanctified men,
while such, cannot with any sincerity at all testify a present
cordial compliance with the covenant of grace : and as they
cannot do this, so neither can they with any sincerity pro
mise a future compliance wito that covenant. Mr. W.
often allows, that in order to christian communion men
must promise a compliance with the covenant, in its spirit
ual and saving duties ; toat they will believe and repent
in the sense of the covenant, willingly accept of Christ and
his salvation, love him and live to him, and will do it im
mediately, henceforward, from this moment, (p. 25. c. e.
p. 26. a. p. 28. a. c. and p. 76. a. ..) But how absurd is
this ! when at the same instant, while they are making and
uttering these promises, they are entirely averse to any such
thing; being then enemies to Christ, willingly rejecting
him, opposing his salvation, striving against it, labouring
to find out all manner of difficulties and hinderances in the
way of it, not desiring it should come yet, &c. which our
author, in a place forecited, says is the case with all un
sanctified men.
And when unsanctified men promise, that toey will
spend the rest of their lives in universal obedience to
Christ, there is no sincerity in such promises ; because
there is not such a heart in them. There is no man but a
true disciple of Christ, that is willing thoroughly to deny
himself for him, and follow hirn in a way of obedience lo
all his commands, unto the end, through all difficulties
which Christ has given his followers reason to expect, or
commanded them to prepare for ; as is evident by Christ's
frequent declarations. (Luke xiv. 25 — 33. Matt. x. 37,
38, 39. chap. xiii. 44, 45, 46. and many parallel places.)
If an unsanctified man thinks he is willing, he does not
know his own heart. If he professes to be willing, he does
not know what he says. The difficulty and cost of it is
not in his view : and therefore he has no proper willing
ness to comply with the cost and difficulty. That which
he is willing for, with a moral sincerity, is something else,
which is a great deal easier, and less cross to flesh and
blood. Suppose a kingshould propose to a subject his build
ing him such a tower, promising him a certain reward. If

504

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

the subject should undertake it, not counting the cost,
thinking with himself that the king meant another sort of
tower, much cheaper ; and should be willing only to build
that cheap one, which he imagined in his own mind ; when
he would by no means have consented to build so costly
a tower as fee king proposed, if he had understood him
right : such a man could not be said properly to be willing
to comply with his prince's proposal, with any sincerity
at all. For what he consents to with a moral sincerity, is
not the thing which the king proposed.
The promises of unsanctified men are like the promises
of the man we read of, (Luke ix. 57, 58.) who said, " Lord,
I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest." To whom
Christ replied, " The foxes have holes, and the birds of
the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to
lay his head." When he made his promise, he probably
quite mistook the thing, and did not imagine, that to fol
low Christ wherever he went, would be to follow him in
such poverty and hardship. I suppose, the rich young
man we read of (Mark x. 17, &c.) might have what is call
ed moral sincerity. But he had no sincerity in the cove
nant of grace. When he came to Christ to know what he
should do to have eternal life, it is probable he ignorantly
thought himself willing to' yield himself to Christ's direc
tion. Yet when it came to a trial, and Christ told him he
must go and sell all that he had and give to the poor, it
proved that he had no sincerity of willingness at all for any
such thing. — So that it is evident, however unsanctified
men may be morally sincere in some things, yet they have
no sincerity of any sort in that covenant, of which fee sa
craments' are seals ; and that moral sincerity, distinct from
gracious, in this covenant, is a mere imagination, there being
indeed no such thing.
II. Another argument against this notion of moral sin
cerity, giving a right to church communion, is this : a
quality that is transient and vanishing, can be no qualifica
tion of fitness for a standing privilege. Unsanctified men
may be very serious, greatly affected, and much engaged
in religion ; but the Scripture compares their religion to a
lamp not supplied with oil, which will go out, and to a
plant that has no root nor deepness of earth, which will soon
wither; and compares such unsanctified men to the dog
that will return to his vomit, and to the sow which, though
washed ever so clean, yet her nature not being changed,
will return to her wallowing in the mire.
Mr. W. allows, that persons in order to come to sacra
ments, must have deep convictions, an earnest concern to
obtain salvation, &c. Now every one who is in any degree
acquainted with religious matters, knows that such con
victions are not wont to last a great while, if they have no
saving issue. Mr. S. in his sermon on the danger of
speedy degeneracy, (p. 11.) says, " Unconverted men will
grow weary of religious duties." And our author himself,
(p. 78. c.) speaking of those professors in the primitive
churches that fell away to heresy and other wickedness,
takes notice that the apostle observes, it will be so, that
they which are approved, might be made manifest : and says
Mr. W. upon it, evil and unsanctified men, by such sins,
will discover their hypocrisy.
Now seeing this is the case with moral sincerity and
common religion, how can it be a qualification for a stand
ing privilege ? Nothing can be a fitness for a durable pri
vilege, but a durable qualification. For no qualification
has any fitness or adaptedness for more than it extends to ;
as a short scabbard cannot be fit for a long sword. If a
man going a journey in the night, needs a lamp to light
him in his way, who will pretend that a flaming wick with
out oil, which will last but a few rods, is fit for his pur
pose ? Or if a man were building a house for himself and
family, should he put into the frame pieces of timber
known to be of such a nature as that they would probably
be rotten in a few months ; or should he take blocks of
ice, instead of hewn stone, because during a present cold
season they seemed to be hard and firm ; and withal should
for a covering put only leaves that will soon fade away,
instead of tiles or shingles, that are solid and lasting;
would not every spectator ridicule his folly ?
If it should be said, that unsanctified men, when they
* How small a proportion are there of the vast multitudes, that in the
time of the late religious commotion through the land had their conscien

ce their moral sincerity, may be cast out again r this is far
from helping the case, or showing that such men were ever
fit to be admitted. To say, a piece of timber, though not
of a durable nature, is fit to be put into the frame of a
building, because when it begins to rot, it may be pulled
out again, is so far from proving that it was ever fit to be put
in, that the speedy necessity of pulling it out rather proves
the contrary. If we had the power of constituting a hu
man body, or it were left to us to add members to our own
bodies, as there might be occasion ; we should not think
such a member was fit to be added to the frame, that had
already radically seated in it a cancer or gangrene, by
which it could last but a little while itself, and would en
danger the other members ; though it were true, that when
the disease should prevail, there were surgeons which
might be procured to cut that member off.
But to consider a little further this point of moral sin
cerity qualifying persons for the privileges of the church.
I would lay down this proposition as a thing of clear evi
dence : those persons have no fitness in themselves to come
to the privileges of the church, who, if they were known,
would not be fit to be admitted by others. For to say,
they are fit to be members, and yet not fit to be allowed
to be members, is apparently absurd. But they who have
no better fitness than moral sincerity, if that were known,
would not be fit to be admitted by others ; as is allowed
by Mr. W. For he holds, that in order to be fit to be
admitted by others, toey must credibly appear to them to
have something more than moral sincerity, even gospel-
holiness. And it is evident in itself, as well as allowed
by Mr. W. that if such were known, they would not be
fit to be admitted, only on their moral sincerity, and the
profession and promises toey make from such a principle ;
and that for this reason, because such a principle alone
would not befit to be trusted. God himself has taught his
church, that the religion of unsanctified men is not fit to
be trusted ; as a lamp without oil, and a plant without
root, are things not to be trusted. — God has directly taught
his church to expect, that such religion will fail ; and that
such men, having no higher principle, will return to their
wickedness. Job xxvii. 8, 9, 10. " The hypocrite — will
he delight himself in the Almighty ? will he always call
upon God?" — Dan. xii. 10. "The wicked will do wick
edly." And therefore God does not require his church
to accept their profession and promises. If he has taught
us not to credit their profession and promises, then certainly
he has taught us not to accept them.
III. Another argument against this supposed rule of
allowing and requiring unsanctified men with moral sin
cerity, to come to sacraments, is this. That rule, which
if fully attended, would naturally bring it to pass, that the
greater part of communicants would be unfit, even accord
ing to that very rule, cannot be a divine rule. But this
supposed rale of moral sincerity is such a rule. For if
this rale be universally attended, then all unsanctified
men, who have present convictions of conscience sufficient
to make them morally sincere, must come into the com
munion of the church. But this conviction and common
religion, if it do not issue in conversion, (as has been ob
served,) commonly vanishes away in a short time. And
yet still these persons, if not convicted of open scandal,
are left in the communion of toe church, and remain there,
without even moral sincerity.— Experience gives us abund
ant reason to think, that of those who some time or other
have considerable convictions of conscience, so as to make
them for the present to be what is called morally sincere,
but few are savingly converted.* And if all these must
be admitted, (as they must, if this rule be fully attended,)
then their convictions going away, and their sincerity
vanishing with it, it willhereby be brought about, that the
Lord's table is chiefly surrounded with the worst sort of
morally insincere persons, viz. stupid backsliders, that are
in themselves far worse toan they were before, according
to the scripture account, Matt. xii. 45. and 2 Pet. ii. 20.
— And this as the natural consequence of the foremention
ed rule, appointing moral sincerity to be the qualification
for communion. Thus this supposed rale supplants it-
own design.
™» awakened who give hopeful abiding evidences of a saving conversion

Sect. VIII.

OF MORAL SINCERITY.

505

IV. Another argument, that moral sincerity is not the
qualification to which God has annexed a lawful right to
sacraments, is, that this qualification is not at all incon
sistent with a man's living at the same time in the most
heinous wickedness, in a superlative degree contrary to the
christian religion.
It was before observed to be a thing evident in itself,
and allowed by Mr. W. that there are some sins, which,
while wilfully continued and lived in, though secretly, do
wholly disqualify persons for christian sacraments, and
make it unlawful for men to partake of them. Now if it
be feus with' some sins, doubtless it is because of the
heinousness of those sins, the high degree of wickedness
which is in toem. And hence it will follow, that those
sins wbicb are in themselves most heinous, and most con
trary to tbe christian religion, do especially disqualify per
sons for cbristian sacraments, when wilfully lived in.
Let it therefore now be considered, whether it will not
follow from these premises, that for men to live in enmity
against God and Christ, and in wilful unbelief and rejec
tion of Christ, (as the Scriptures teach, and as Mr. S. and
Mr. W. too assert, is the case with all unsanctified men
under the gospel,) wholly disqualifies them for christian
sacraments. For it is very manifest, by Scripture and
reason, feat to live in these things, is to live in some of the
most heinous kinds of wickedness ; as is allowed by Cai-
vinistic divines in general, and by Mr. S. in particular,
who says, (Safety of Ap. p. 224. d.) " You cannot anger
God more byany thing, than by continuing in the neglect
of Christ. This is the great controversy God has with sin
ners ; not that they have been guilty of these and those
particular transgressions, but that they abide in the rejec
tion of the gospel." Again, he says, (ibid. p. 249. e.)
" The great sin, toat God is angry wife you for, is your
unbelief. Despising the gospel is the great provoking sin."
A man's continuing in hatred of his brother, especially a
fellow-communicant, is generally allowed to disqualify
for communion. The apostle compares it to leaven in the
passover, 1 Cor. v. 6, 7, 8. But now certainly it is as
bad, and as contrary to the nature and design of christian
sacraments, for a man to live in hatred of Christ, and to
remain a hateful and accursed enemy (if I may use Mr.
W.'s own language) to the glorious Redeemer and Head
of the christian church.
None will deny, toat lying and perjury are very gross
and heinous sins, and (if known) very scandalous : and
therefore it follows from what was observed before, that
such sins, if lived in, though secretly, do disqualify persons
for christian sacraments in God's sight. But by our
author's own account, all unsanctified men that partake
of the Lord's supper, live in lying and perjury, and go on
to renew these crimes continually ; since while they con
tinue ungodly men, they live in a constant violation of
their promise and oath. For Mr. W. often lays it down,
that all who enter into covenant with God, promise spiri
tual duties, such as repentance, faith, love, &c. And that
they promise to perform these henceforward, even from
thepresent moment, unto the end of life ; (see p. 25. c. e.
26. a. 28. a. c. 76. a. b.) and that they not only promise,
buts-wwto do this. (p. 18. d. 100. c. 101. a. 129. a.
130. c. 140. _ .) But for a man to violate the promises he
makes in covenanting with God, Mr. W. once and again
speaks of it as lying, (p. 24. _. e. p. 130. c.) And if
so, doubtless their breaking the oath they swear to God is
perjury. — Now lying to men is bad; but lying to God is
* Here I would observe, that not only in the general do unsanctified men,
notwithstanding their moral sincerity, thus live in the most heinous wicked
ness ; but particularly, according to Mr. W.'s own doctrine, their very
attendance on the outward ordinances and duties of worship, is the vilest,
most flagrant, and abominable impiety. In his sermons on Christ a King
and Witness, (p. 77, 78.) he says, " If a man could perform all the outward
acts of worship and obedience, which the Bible requires, from the begin
ning to the end of it, and not do them from faith in Christ, and love to
God, and not express by them the thoughts, desires, and actings of his soul ;
they would be so far from being that obedience which Christ requires, that
they would be a mocking of God, and hateful to him. These outward
acts ought to be no other, and in religion are designed to stand for notbing
else. but to be representations of a man's soul, and the acts of that And
when they are not so, they are in their own nature a he, and false pretence
of something within, which is not there : Therefore the Lord abhors them,
and reckons these false pretences the vilest wickedness.  Now when a
man performs all outward obedience and worship, but it does not come
from his heart, he practically denies tbe omniscience of Christ, while he
puts before him a show and pretence of something for the reality ; and so he
belies his own profession. And all this, be it more or less, whatever it pre-

worse. (Acts v. 4.) And without doubt, perjury towards
God is the worst sort of perjury. But if unsanctified men,
when they entered into covenant with God, promised and
swore, that they would immediately and thenceforward ac
cept of Christ as their Saviour, and love him, and live to
him ; then while they continue in a wilful rejection of
him (which according to Mr. W. all unregenerate men
do) they live continually in the violation of their promise
and oath.*
I would observe one thing further under this head, viz.
That ungodly men which live under the gospel, notwith
standing any moral sincerity they may have, are worse,
and more provoking enemies to God, than the very
heathen, who never sinned against gospel-light and mercy.
This is very manifest by the Scriptures, particularly Matt.
x. 13, 14. Amos iii. 2. Rom. ii. 9. 2 Pet. ii. 21. Rev. iii.
15, 16.
I had suggested, concerning Mr. Stoddard's doctrine of
admitting more unconverted than converted by attending
Christ's rule, that this supposes it to be the case of the
members of the visible church, toat the greater part of
them are more provoking enemies to God than most ofthe
heathen. Mr. W. represents himself as greatly alarmed
at this : he calls it an extraordinary passage, and puts five
questions about it to my serious consideration, (p. 72, 73.)
The first and chief question is this ; " Did Mr. S. ever say
in toe Appeal, or any where else, of most of our fellow-
worshippers at the sacrament, that we have no reason to
think concerning them, but that they are more provoking
enemies to the Lord, whom Christians love and adore,
than most of toe very heathen ?" His three next questions
are to represent the heinousness of such supposed ill treat
ment of Mr. S. — And I think will be sufficiently answered,
by what I«shall offer in reply to the first.
I will tell him what Mr. S. said. Speaking to such as
do not come to Christ, living under the gospel, he said,
(Safety of Ap. p. 234, 235.) " You may not think to
escape as the heathen do : your load will be heavier, and
your fire will be hotter, and your judgment sorer, than toe
judgment of other men. God will proportion every man's
misery to his iniquity. And as you have enjoyed greater
light and love, so you must expect more amazing and
exquisite wrath, toan other men. Conscience has more to
accuse you of and condemn you for ; and so has God :
and you will sink down deeper into hell than other men.
You are treasuring up a greater measure of wrath, than
others, against the day of wrath. You will wish you had
lived in the darkest corners of the earth among Scythians
and barbarians." —
And Mr. W. must allow me to remind him of what
another divine has said, and that is himself. In his sermon
on Isa. xiv. 11. (p. 25, 26.) he says, " It is to be feared,
there are great numbers here present, that are in an un
converted, unrenewed, unpardoned slate ; strangers from
God, and enemies to him. Yet you now look with great
pity and compassion on that poor captive, for whom we
have now been offering up our earnest prayers,t who has
been so long in a pitiable and sorrowful condition, and
who is now in the thickness of popish darkness and super
stition. — If you are out of Christ, and destitute of true
faith in him, if your natures remain unrenewed and un
sanctified, what is your state better than hers, which looks
so sorrowful and distressing? Rather, is it not worse?
When you consider, that in the fulness of the means of
grace which you have enjoyed all your days, you are as
tends to be of religion, instead of being that which Christ requires, is en
tirely different from it, yea, infinitely contrary to it. And those same ac
tions, which when they are the language of the heart, and flow from it, are
pleasing and acceptable to God and Jesus Christ, are true obedience to him ;
when they do not, are reckoned the most flagrant and abominable impiety,
and threatened with the severest damnation of hell." — Now, who can be
lieve, that God has, by his own holy institution, made that so^ of sincerity,
which is nothing better than what is consistent with such a lying, viie,
abominable, flagrantly wicked pretence and show of religion as this, the
very thing that gives a right, even in his sight, to christian sacraments.
I might here also observe, that if moral sincerity or common grace gives
a right to sacraments in the sight of God, then that which (according to
Mr. S— d's doctrine before observed) is a spirit of lust, that which is con
trary to, and at war with, and would destroy saving grace, is the thing
which gives a right in the sight of God to christian sacraments.
t Mrs. Eunice Williams, brought up in Canada, among the Caghna-
waga Indians, sister to the then pastor of the cburchin Mansfield, where this
sermon was preached, upon a day of prayer kept on her account ; she being
then in that place on a visit.

506

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

far from any saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, as toose
who have lived in fee dregs and abyss of popish ignorance,
and know not what to believe, but what toe church, that
is, antichrist, tells them. If you die thus, your misery
will be aggravated inconceivably beyond theirs : which
Christ has plainly enough shown us, when he upbraided
toe cities wherein most of his mighty works were done,
and tells them how much in the comparison they fall below
Tyre and Sidon," (heathen cities, notorious for luxury, de
bauchery, and the grossest idolatry,) " and Sodom ; for
whom it should be more tolerable than for them."
The same author says also, even in the book under con
sideration, (p. 86.) " That the unbelief and impieties of
visible saints, is what toey will be punished for above all
men in the world."
And now, I think it may be proper for Mr. W. himself
to answer his 5th question, which he puts to my serious
consideration, viz. " What honour is it to our Lord Jesus
Christ, to treat visible saints in such a manner, when at
the same time it is his revealed will they should be out
wardly treated as visible saints ?"

SECT. IX.
A view of what Mr. W. says concerning the public covenant
ing of professors.
I. Mr. W. often speaks with contempt, of my supposing
it to be a duty required of such as come to sacraments, that
they should explicitly own the covenant, and disputes largely
against it. (p. 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22. and many
other places.) He says concerning me, (p. 22. a. b.) " It
is very unhappy, that this good gentleman shoitld use the
Scripture in such a manner, to prove a divine institution
which never had an existence ; and after all that is said,
is but a mere imagination and chimera ; it being evident,
there never was any such divine institution for fee church
under the Old Testament, binding particular persons pub
licly and explicitly to own the covenant, in order to toeir
enjoying the outward ordinances of it." However, it falls
out something happily for me, that I am not quite alone
in toe chimera, but have Mr. W. himself to join me in it;
who abundantly asserts the same thing, (p. 5. c. p. 8. u. p.
9. b. c. and many other places,) who uses the Scripture in
the same manner, and supposes toe same divine institution ;
and who, (in p. 5. b. c. of the treatise in hand,) having
stated the following inquiry, " What is toat evidence,
which by divine appointment toe church is to have, of
toe saintship of those who are admitted to toe outward
privileges of toe covenant of grace ?" makes this answer
to it : " The Scripture has determined the matter thus,
that the open profession and declaration of a person's be
lieving in Christ, — and a hearty consent to the terms of
the covenant of grace, and engagement on his part to fulfil
it," &c. " is the sole and entire ground of that public judg
ment, which the church is to make of the real saintship of
professors." It is manifest, he cannot intend merely that
they should be the posterity of such as thus owned the
covenant, or declared their consent to it, and so are looked
upon as those that owned the covenant in their ancestors,
at the beginning of toe covenant line ; (though sometimes
he seems to suppose, this is all toat is necessary, as 1 shall
take particular notice by and by ;; for here he expressly
speaks of a personal owning the covenant, or toe open pro
fession and declaration of a person's consent to fee cove
nant. And thus he often speaks of the same matter, in
like manner, as a personal thing, or what is done by the
person judged of, and received. (See p. 10. c. _. 31. e. 32.
e. 33. a. 34. i.e. 73. b. 84. a. 139. a.) And in the second
page of his preface, he declares himself fully established in
Mr. S  d's doctrine concerning this affair of qualifica
tions for the Lord's supper ; who expressly declare it to be
his judgment, that " It is requisite, that persons be not
admitted unto communion in the Lord's supper, without
making a personal and public profession of their faith
and repentance." (Appeal, p. 93, 94.)
And as Mr. W. holds, that there must be a public per
sonal owning of the covenant ; so he also maintains, that
this profession must be explicit, or express. He says, (p.

20. d. e.) " Since we have no direction in the Bible, at
what time nor in what manner any personal explicit cove
nanting should be performed, — it appears plain to a de
monstration, that the people knew nothing of any such
institution ; as I suppose, the christian church never did,
till Mr. Edwards discovered it." But if I was the first
discoverer, he should have owned, that since I have_ dis
covered it, he himself, and all my opposers, have "seen
cause to follow me, and receive my discovery. For so the
case seems to be, if he gives us a true account (in p. 132.
b.) where he rejects, wife indignation, the imputation of
any other opinion. " How often (says he) has Mr,
Edwards said, none but visible saints are to be admitted ?
Do not all Mr. Edwards's opposers say, that no man
is to be admitted, who does not profess bis hearty belief
of toe gospel, and the earnest and sincere purpose of his
heart, so far as he knows it, to obey all God's commands,
and keep bis covenant ? none, who do not make as full
and express a profession as the Israelites did, or was
ever required by Christ or his apostles, in any instances
that can be produced in the Bible, of bodies of men or
particular persons admitted into visible covenant with
God ?" — He had before spoken of the words which the
Israelites used in their entering into covenant with God.
(p. 5. d.) Which must refer to their entering into covenant
in the wilderness ; for we have no account of any words at
all used by feat nation, at their entering into covenant, if
not there. And this he sometimes speaks of as the cove
nant they made, when God took them into covenant, (p.
8. _. 36. d. e. 37. a. b.) And (p. 20.) he allows that to be
an instance of explicit covenanting : but ridicules my pre
tending to show, that explicit covenanting was a divine
institution for all ; when, he says, we have an account of
but four instances of any explicit covenanting with God
by the Jews, and those on most extraordinary occasions,
and by the body of the people. But what matter is it,
whetoer toere were four, or but two, or only that one
instance in toe wilderness ? when he himself with such
earnestness declares, that all my opposers hold, every
man must make as full and express a profession of the
covenant as ever the Israelites did, or was ever required,
in any instance toat can be produced in the Bible, whe
ther of bodies of men or particular persons' admission, &c.
If this be so,' and what he said before be also true, then
all Israel, even every individual person among them, that
ever was admitted to the privileges of toe church, through
out all toeir generations, by his own confession and asser
tion, did personally make as explicit a profession of toe
covenant, as toe body of the people did in toat instance
in toe wilderness. And not only so, but the same must
every individual person do, toat ever comes to sacraments,
through all ages, to the end of the world. — Thus Mr. W.
fights hard to beat down himself. But I will not say in
his own language, that in so doing he fights hard to beat
down a poor man of straw.
If any should say, that Mr. W. when speaking of an
express profession, does not mean a profession in words, but
only in actions ; such as an outward attendance on ordi
nances and duties of worship : I answer, if such actions
are a profession, yet certainly they are not an express pro
fession ; they are no more toan an implicit profession. And
besides, it is very plain, the profession he speaks of is a
profession in words. Thus (p. 36. 6.) when describing the
profession which ought to be made, he says, " It is in as
strong words, as were used by any whom the apostles
admitted." And elsewhere (as was before noted) he often
insists, that a profession should be made in words with
out any discrimination as to their meaning. Which shows,
it is a profession in words, that be designs. And although
(p. 104. e.) he speaks of a performance of the outward
duties of morality and worship, as the only way that God
ever appointed of making real saintship visible : yet tin-
is only another instance of his great inconsistence with him
self; as appears by what has already been observed, and
appears further by this, that when he speaks of a profes
sion of consent to the terms of the covenant, &c. he often
speaks of it as a profession which ought to be made in
order to admission to these ordinances, (p. 5. b. t. 10. a.
35. e. 36. a. b. c. 132. b. and other places.) If so, then
how can the attendance itself, on these ordinances of wor-

Sect. IX.

CONCERNING PUBLIC COVENANTING.

507

ship, be all the profession which is to be made ? Must
men first come to ordinances, in order to admission to ordi
nances? And moreover, Mr. W. himself distinguishes
between engaging and swearing to keep covenant in the
public profession, and attending on the ordinances and
duties of worship, which he speaks of as belonging to the
fulfilment of the engagement and oath. (p. 130.) And
lastly I would observe, though it could be consistently
made out (which it never can) that Mr. W. does not
mean a professing in words, it would be notoing to the
purpose. If it be in words, or in other signs which are
equivalent to words, and which are a full and express pro
fession, (as Mr. W. says,) it is exactly the same thing as to
my purpose, and the consequence of the argument, which
was, that real godliness must be professed. And indeed
this very thing which I endeavoured to prove by all that I
said on this head, is expressly again and again allowed by
Mr. W. Yet he makes a great ado, as if toere was a vast
difference between him and me in this affair of public
covenanting with God ; and as though my notions of it
were very singular, absurd, and mischievous.
II. Mr. W. says a great deal in opposition to me, to
show that swearing by God's name, swearing to the Lord,
and the like, do not mean covenanting with God : but yet
(in p. 18.) in the midst of his earnest dispute against it, he
owns it. — I mentioned several prophecies, referring to the
Gentile converts in the days of the gospel, which foretell
that they should swear bit God's name, swear to the Lord
of hosts, Src. as a prediction of the Gentiles publicly
covenanting with God; using that as one thing which
confirmed, that this was commonly the meaning of such
phrases in the Old Testament. But Mr. W. despises my
interpretation of these prophecies, and my argument from
them. Nevertheless, in his reply, he owns the very thing :
he in effect owns, that entering into covenant, and owning
the covenant, is what is meant by these prophecies ; men
tioning this, plainly with approbation, as the universal
sense of protestant commentators. His words are, (p. 18.
d. e.) " As to all these prophecies, which Mr. Edwards
has quoted, referring to the Gentiles, and their swearing by
the name of the Lord, the sense of protestant commentators
upon them, I think, universally is, toat when the Gentiles
in God's appointed time should be brought into covenant
with God, it should be as toe Jews were, by being per
suaded to consent to the terms of toe covenant of grace,
and engaging themselves to God, to be faithful to him,
and keep covenant with him. He who heartily consent-
to the terms of tbe covenant of grace, gives up himself to
the Lord, giiies the hand to the Lord, engages to own and
serve him ; which is toe thing signified in all those meta
phorical phrases, which describe or point out this event, in
the Old-Testament language."
III. Mr. W. in these last-cited words, explains the
phrase of giving the hand to the Lord, as signifying engag
ing themselves to God in covenant, and consenting to fee
terms of the covenant, and yet in fee next page but two,
he contemns and utterly disallows my interpreting the
same phrase in the same manner. Mr. W. says, (p. 21. c.)
" As to toe words of Hezekiah, when he called the
Israelites to the passover, bidding toem yield or give the
hand to the Lord ; and in Ezra, they gave the hand to put
away their wives ; which he thinks to be a Hebrew
phrase for entering into covenant ; it carries its own confu
tation with it."
IV. Mr. W. often speaks of the professions made by the
ancient Israelites and Jewish Christians, when they entered
into covenant, and were admitted into the church.
Whereas, according to the doctrine of the same author, in
the same book, we have no account of any profession
made by either, on any such occasion. For he insists,
that the children of such as are in covenant, are born in
covenant ; and are not admitted into covenant, any other
wise than as they were seminally in their ancestors ; and
toat the profession of their ancestors, at the head of the
covenant line, is toat individual profession, which brings
them into covenant. His words are, (p. 135. e. 136. _. b.c.)
" It is one and the same individual profession and engage
ment, which brings them and their children into covenant.
And if there is one instance in the Bible, where God ever
took any man into covenant, and not his children at the

same time, I should be glad to see it. It is by virtue ot
their being in covenant, that they have a right to the seals.
And if these children are not cast out of covenant by God,
their children have as good a right to the seals as they had.
It is God's will, toat his mark and seal should be set
upon them, and their children, and their children
for ever, till God casts them out of covenant. It is
certain, they have an interest in the covenant, and they
have a right to the privileges of the covenant so long as
toey remain in covenant ; and that is, till God cuts toem
off, and casts them out."
And accordingly he supposes, that John the Baptist
never inquired into the doctrinal knowledge of those he
baptized, because they were already in covenant with God,
and members of his visible church, and not yet turned
out : and he suggests, that John knew many of them not
to be of a good moral character, (p. 98.) So he largely
insists, that the three tlwusand Jews and proselytes that
the apostles baptized, (Acts ii.) were not taken into cove
nant, but only continued in covenant, (p. 46, 47.) So he
supposes the eunuch, before Philip baptized him, was a
member of the church, and in covenant with God. (p. 50.)
Though he inconsistently mentions those same persons in
the 2d of Acts, and the eunuch, as admitted into the church
by the apostles, and primitive ministers, (p. 9. e. p. 10. a.
p. 59. a.) And so (p. 8. _. p. 26. a.) he mentions God's
taking all Israel into covenant : he mentions the pro
fession which the Israelites made, (p. 25. e.) and (p. 5. _.)
he speaks of the words which the Israelites used, in their
entering into covenant with God. And (p. 36. _. e. p. 37.
a. 6.) he speaks of their profession in Moses's time, which
God trusted so far as to admit them into covenant. Where
as indeed, according to Mr. W. they were not taken in,
nor did they enter into covenant, neither in the plains of
Moab, nor at mount Sinai. He says expressly, that they
were in covenant before that time, when in Egypt, being
taken in their ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, (p.
91. A.) But then we read of no words that these patri
archs used at their entering into covenant. — And it will
undoubtedly follow, on Mr. W.'s principles, that we must
go further back still for Israel's being taken into covenant;
we must go up even to Adam himself, the first father of
mankind, who was visibly in covenant, and so his poste
rity, in the line of Noah's ancestors, without the line
being broken by a visible cutting off, and casting out by
God, as we have all reason to suppose. And after the
flood, we have reason to think, God had a covenant race
continued in Shem's posterity, especially in the line of
Abraham's ancestors. And though Terah, Abraham's
father, was tainted with the then prevailing idolatry ; yet
there is no appearance of the line being then cut off, in the
way Mr. W. speaks of, by God's visibly casting him out.
On the contrary, God took a special fatherly care of him
and his children, in bringing them from TJr of the Chal-
dees, the land of graven images, to Harare. (Gen. xi. 31.)
And God is called the God of the father of Abraham and
Nahor, toat is, the God of Terah. (Gen. xxxi. 53.) And
if it be said, that in Abraham began a new dispensation of
the covenant; so that Abraham might properly on that
account be said to be taken into covenant, as though his
ancestors had not been in covenant : I answer, The alter
ation of the dispensation was in no measure so great as
that after Christ's resurrection and ascension ; and yet Mr.
W. will not allow, that the Jewish converts, received
(Acts ii.) on this new dispensation, were any more than
continued in covenant, and in the church. So that, ac
cording to Mr. W.'s scheme, it must be Adam's pro
fession of religion, that was the individual profession wbich
made all his posterity, in the line of the ch'urcb, even to
the apostles' days, visible saints, or (as he himself explains
visible saintship) such as we have rational ground to think
are real saints, possessed of gospel-holiness ; and on that
account have a right to sacraments. For so he says it is
with the children of them that are in covenant, and their
children, and their children for ever, till cut off and cast
out by God.
So that now we have the scheme in a true view of it. —
The Pharisees and Sadducees that John baptized, whom
Mr. W. supposes John knew to be not of a good moral
character, and whose doctrinal knowledge he did not in-

508

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part II.

quire into before he baptized them ; because they had be
fore been admitted in their ancestors ; even these were
visible saints, and such as John had rational ground to
think had sufficient doctrinal knowledge and were ortho
dox and real saints, having moral evidence that they had
gospel-holiness, because Adam their original ancestor made
a profession of religion, in words of double meaning, with
out any marks of distinction or discrimination, by which
any might know their meaning.
And if we should go back no further toan Abraham, it
would not much mend the matter ; supposing the case
had been so, that we had the words of both Abraham's
and Adam's profession written down in our Bibles :
whereas, we have neither ; no, nor have we the words of
the profession of any one person, either in the Old Testa
ment or New, at their being taken into the church, if the
things which Mr. W. says are true ; though he speaks so
often of professions, and words of professions, and decla
rations, made on such occasions, as if we had an express
account of them in Scripture.
V. As our author abundantly maintains, that unsancti
fied men in covenanting with God, may and do promise
the exercise of saving faith, repentance, love, &c. ; so he
holds, that they promise to begin the exercise of these
graces immediately, from this moment, and to live in them
from henceforth, (p. 25. c. e. and 26. a. and 28. a. c. 76. a. b.)
Now I desire this matter may be looked into, and tho
roughly examined. — Not only the Holy Scriptures, and
agreeable to them, Mr. Stoddard, and sound divines in
general, teach us, but Mr. W. himself maintains, that men
who are unsanctified do for the present refuse and oppose
these things. In a forecited place of his sermon on Isaiah
xiv. 11. our author says, that unregenerate and unsancti
fied men oppose all means for bringing them to these
things, are willingly without them, and labour to find out
all manner of difficulties and hinderances in the way of
them ; and if they pray for them, do not desire they
should come yet, but would stay a while longer. Now,
how is this consistent with such persons promising, with
any sincerity at all, that they will comply with and per
form these things immediately, from henceforth, without
staying one moment longer ? If God calls a man this mo
ment to yield his whole heart to him in faith, love, and
new obedience ; and if he in answer to the cali solemnly
promises and swears* to God, that he will immediately
comply with the call, without the least delay, and does it
with any sincerity, how does he now willingly refuse,
oppose, and struggle against it, as choosing to stay a while
longer? Besides, such promises and oaths of unregenerate men
must not only be contrary to sincerity, but very presump
tuous, upon these two accounts. (1.) Because herein they
take an oath to the Most High, which, it is ten thousand
to one, they will break as soon as the words are out of
their mouths, by continuing still unconverted ; yea, an
oath which they are breaking even while they are uttering
it. And what folly and wickedness is it for men to take
such oaths ! and how contrary to the counsel given by the
wise man, in Eccl. v. 2 — 6.1 And to what purpose should
ungodly men be encouraged to utter such promises and
oaths before the church, for the church's acceptance;
which are so far from being worthy to be credited, or a
fulfilment of them to be expected, that it is many thou
sands, and perhaps millions, of times more likely to be
otherwise ? That is, it is so much more likely they will
not be converted the very next moment. — (2.) When an
unconverted man makes such a promise, he promises
what he has not to give, or that for which he has no suffi
ciency. There is indeed a sufficiency in God to enable
him ; but he has no claim to it. For God's helping a
man savingly to believe in Christ is a saving blessing :
and Mr. W. himself owns, that a man cannot by promise
claim any saving blessings, till he has fulfilled fee condi
tions of the covenant of grace, (p. 22. e. and 28. e.) So
that in vain it is said by Mr. W. (p. 27. e.) " I pray that
it may be thoroughly considered what is propounded in
the covenant of grace, and on what stock a man is to
finish." Meaning (as appears by the sequel) the stock of
* It must be observed, that Mr. W. often speaks of the promise which an

God's sufficiency. To what purpose is this said ? when
the covenant of grace promises or makes oyer no such
stock to him whohas no interest in the promises of it, as
having not yet complied with the condition of its pro
mises. Nor does an unconverted man promise any thing
in an humble dependence on that stock ; no such men do
lay hold on God's strength, or trust in God's sufficiency.
For this is a discriminating mark of a true saint; as our
author himself observes, in that forecited passage in his
Sermons ore Christ a. King and Witness, p. 19. c.
I would here take notice of it as remarkable, that though
Mr. W. had owned that a natural man can claim no sav
ing blessings bv God's promise, yet to help out his scheme
of a natural man engaging and promising, even with an
oath, the exercises of saving grace, he (in p. 27, 28. espe
cially p. 28. e.) speaking of the great encouragement on
which unsanctified men can promise these things, supposes
God has given such encouragement to them who promise
and engage themselves to God, with that degree of earnest
ness and sincerity which he often speaks of as requisite to
communiou, that we have reason to determine that God
never will fail of bestowing on them saving grace ; so that
they shall fulfil their promises. I say, he supposes that
we have reason to determine this, because he himself de
termines it. His words are these :— " Though there be no
promise of saving good, exclusive of faith, yet there being
a command and encouragement, there are suitable springs
of his endeavour and hope, in his engaging himself to God,
and casting himself upon his mercy with all the earnest
ness and sincerity he can. God never will be worse than
his encouragement, nor do less than he has encouraged ;
and he bas said, To him that hath shall be given." Now
if this be so, and if this will make it out, that an uncon
verted man who is morally sincere may reasonably, on this
encouragement, promise immediately to believe and repent,
though tois be not in his own power ; then it will follovy,
that whenever an unconverted man covenants, with such
moral sincerity as gives a lawful right to sacraments, God
never will fail of giving him converting grace that moment,
to enable him from thenceforward to believe and repent,
as he promises'. And if this be so, and none may lawfully
covenant with God without moral sincerity, (as Mr. W.
also says,) then it will follow, that never any one person
comes, nor can come, lawfully to the Lord's supper, in an
unconverted state ; because when they enter into covenant
lawfully, (supposing them not converted before,) God al
ways converts them in the moment of their covenanting,
before they come to the Lord's table. — And if so, what is
become of all this grand dispute about the lawfulness of
persons coming to the Lord's table, who have not convert
ing grace ?
VI. Mr. W. greatly misrepresents me from time to time,
as though I had asserted, that it is impossible for an un
sanctified man to enter into covenant with God; and that
those who were sanctified among the Israelites, did not
enter into covenant with God ; that the pretended cove
nanting of such is not covenanting, but only lying, wilful
lying ; and that no natural man can own the covenant, but
that lie certainly ties, knows he lies, and designedly lies, in
all these things, when he says them. (p. 26. a. 22. d. 24. _.
31. a. b. c. 21. c.) Whereas, I never said nor supposed
any such thing. I never doubted but that multitudes of
unsanctified persons, and in all ages of the christian church,
and in this age, and here in New England, have entered
visibly, and in profession, into the covenant of grace, and
have owned that covenant, and promised a compliance
with all the duties of it, without known or wilful lying;
for this reason, because they were deceived, and did not
know their own hearts : and that they (however deceived)
were under the obligations of the covenant, and- bound by
their engagements and promises. And that in that sense,
they were God's covenant people, that by their own bind
ing act they were engaged to God in covenant ; though
such an act, performed without habitual holiness, be an
unlawful one. If a thing be externally devoted to God,
by doing what ought not to have been done, the thing de
voted may, by that act, be the Lord's : as it was with the
censers of Korah and his company. (Num. xvi. 37, 38.)

unregenerate man makes in covenanting
100: p 101. a. p. 129. a. p. 130. c p. 143. 1

with God, as his oath. P. 18. _. p.

Sect. IX.

CONCERNING PUBLIC COVENANTING.

509

What I asserted, was, that none could profess a com
pliance with the covenant of grace, and avouch Jehovah
to be their God, and Christ to be their Saviour, i. e. that
they are so by their own act and choice, and yet love the
world more than Jehovah without lying, or being de
ceived.* And that he who is wholly under the power of a
camal mind, which is not subject to the law of God, nor
indeed can be, cannot promise to love God with all his
heart and witb all his soul, without either great deceit, or
the most manifest and palpable absurdity. Inasmuch
as promising supposes the person to be conscious to him
self, or persuaded of himself, that he has such a heart in
him; because his lips pretend to declare his heart, and the
nature of a promise implies real intention, will, and com
pliance of heart.f And what can be more evident than
these propositions 1 Surely they that reject the covenant of
grace in their hearts (as Mr. W. owns all unsanctified
men do) cannot own it with their lips, without either de
ceiving or being deceived. Words cannot be a true signifi
cation of more than is in the mind. Inward covenanting,
as Mr. S. taught, is by an act of saving faith. (Safety of
Ap. p. 85. e. 86. a.) And outward covenanting is an ex
pression of inward covenanting ; therefore, if it be not at
tended with inward covenanting, it is a false expression.
And Mr. W. in effect owns the same thing ; for he says,
(p. 21. b.) " That there is no doubt they who are wilful ob
stinate sinners, deal deceitfully and falsely when they pre
tend to covenant with God." But so do all unregenerate
sinners under the gospel, according to Mr. Stoddard and
his own doctrine. And thus the very point, about which
he contests so earnestly and so long, and with so many
great words, is, in the midst of it all, given up fully, by his
own concession.
VII. Mr. W. is greatly displeased with my saying (as
above) that none who are under the power of a camal mind
can visibly own the covenant, without lying or being de
ceived, &c. And he finds great fault with my gloss on
Psal. lxxviii. 36, 37. " They did flatter him with their
mouth, and lied to him with their tongue : " which I inter
pret, as though toey lied in pretending that respect to God,
whicb indeed they had not. (p. 35. a. of my Inquiry.)
But he insists, that what is meant is only their lying in
breaking their promise, (p. 24. e.) And he insists upon
it, (as has been observed already,) that natural men may
covenant wito God and speak true. But it seems he has
wonderfully changed his mind of late ; for a little while ago
he declared elsewhere for the very same things which he
here inveighs against, and spoke of natural men's profession

and pretence of respect to God, as being actually a lie in
its own nature; and not only becoming so by their
breaking covenant afterwards. Particularly, it is remark
able, he has thus interpreted this very text now in dispute.
In his sermons on Christ a King and Witness, speaking of
the outward acts of worship done by those that do not love
God nor believe in Christ, he expressly says, (p. 77.)
' They are in their own nature a lie ; a false pretence
of something within, that is not there. — See (says Mr.
~W\) this interpretation of it, in Psal. lxxviii. 34 — 37.
" They did flatter him with their mouths ; they lied to him
with their tongues," ' &c. — (Ibid. p. 74. b. e.) " Christ's
visible church are such as visibly and outwardly profess to
be his subjects, and act outwardly as if they believed on
him. But these outward acts in themselves are not that re
ligion and obedience, which Christ requires ; nay, of them
selves, they have no religion in them ; and Christ has
nothing to do with them, but as they are the fruits and ex
pressions of the heart, as they are the language and index
of the mind and conscience, and outward declarations of
the inward frame, tempers and acting, of the soul. If they
are not so, they are so far from having any religion in them,
that they are hateful to him, being only the visible resem
blance, the pretence and feigning, of religion ; i. e. they are
mockery, hypocrisy, falsehood, and lies ; and belong not
to tbe kingdom of Christ, but ofthe devil." — Let the reader
now compare this with my gloss on the text.
Thus I have considered the various parts and principles
of Mr. W.'s scheme, which are the foundations on which
he builds all his superstructure, and the ground on which
he proceeds in all his reasonings, through his book ; and
many particulars in his answers and arguments have been
already considered. — Mr. W. says thus,(p. 135. a.) " I own,
that at present I have no more expectation to see the
scheme which Mr. Edwards aims to establish, defended
upon Calvinistic principles, than the doctrine of transub-
staniiation." On whicb I shall only say, it might perhaps
be thought very impertinent in me, to tell my readers what
I do or what I do not expect, concerning his scheme.
Every reader, that has reason enough of his own not to take
the big words and confident speeches of others for demon
stration, is now left to judge for himself, whose scheme is
most akin to the doctrine of transubstantiation, for in
consistence and self-contradiction. Nevertheless, I will
proceed to consider our author's reasonings a little more
particularly, in the ensuing part.

PART III.

CONTAINING SOME REMARKS ON MR. WILLIAMS'S EXCEPTIONABLE WAY OP REASONING, IN SUPPORT OF HIS OWN
SCHEME, AND IN OPPOSITION TO THE CONTRARY PRINCIPLES.

SECT. I.
General observations upon his way of arguing, and answer
ing arguments ; with some instances of the first method
excepted against.
Mr. W. endeavours to support his own opinion, and to
confute the book he pretends to answer, by the following
methods. 1. By frequently misrepresenting what I say, and then
disputing or exclaiming against what he wrongfully charges
as mine.
2. By misrepresenting what others say in their writings,
whose opinions he pretends to espouse.
3. By seeming to oppose and confute arguments, and yet
only saying things which have no reference at all to them,
but relate entirely to other matters, that are^altogether
foreign to the argument in hand.
* See my Inquiry, p. 33, 34.

4. By advancing new and extraordinary notions ; which
are both manifestly contrary to truth, and also contrary to
the common apprehensions ofthe christian church in all ages.
5. By malting use of peremptory and confident as-
sertions, instead of arguments.
6. By using great exclamation, in the room of arguing ;
as though he would amuse and alarm his readers, and
excite terror in them, instead of rational conviction.
7. By wholly overlooking arguments, and not answering
at all ; pretending, that there is no argument, nothing to
answer; when the case is manifestly far otherwise.
8. By frequently turning off an argument wito this re
flection, that it is begging the question ; when there is not
the least show or pretext for it.
9. By very frequently begging the question himself, or
doing that which is equivalent.
10. By often alleging and insisting on things in which
he is inconsistent witb himself. t Ibid. p. 37, 38.

510

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

As to the first of these methods used by Mr. W. i. e.
his misrepresenting what I say, and then disputing or ex
claiming against what he injuriously charges as mine,
many instances have been already observed : I now would
take notice of some other instances.
In p. 15. c. He charges me with " affirming vehement
ly, in a number of repetitions, that the doctrine taught is,
that no manner of pretence to any visible holiness is made
or designed to be made." These he cites as my words,
marking them with notes of quotation. Whereas I never
said or thought any such thing, but the contrary. I knew,
that those whose doctrine I opposed, declared that visible
holiness was necessary : and take particular notice of it,
(p. 8.) where I say, " It is granted on all hands, that none
ought to be admitted, as members of the visible church of
Christ, but visible saints :" and argue on tois supposition
for fifteen pages together, in that same part of my book
where Mr. W. charges me with asserting the contrary.
What I say is, that people are taught, that they come into
the church without any pretence to sanctifying grace, (p.
15. _.) I do not say, without a pretence to visible holiness.
Thus Mr. W. alters my words, to make them speak some
thing not only diverse but contrary to what I do say, and
say very often; and so takes occasion, or rather makes an
occasion, to charge me before the world, with telling a
manifest untruth, (p. 15. _.)
Again, Mr. W. in answering my argument concerning
brotherly lore, (p. 70. e. 71. a.) represents me as arguing,
" That in the exercise of christian love described in the
gospel, there is such an union of hearts, as there cannot be
of a saint to an unsanctified man." Which is a thing I
never said, and is quite contrary to the sentiments which I
have abundantly declared. I indeed speak of that bro
therly love, as what cannot be of a saint to one that is not
apprehended and judged to be sanctified. But that notion
of a peculiar love, wbich cannot be to an unsanctified man
— or without the reality of holiness in the person beloved
— is what I ever abhorred, and have borne a most loud
and open and large testimony against, again and again,
from the press,* and did so in the preface to that very book
which Mr. W. writes against.
In p. 74. a. b. Mr. W. represents me as supposing, that
in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, both the covenant
ing parties, viz. Christ and the communicant, seal to the
truth of the communicant's faith ; or that both seal to this
as true, that the communicant does receive Christ. Where
as, by me, no such thing was ever thought ; nor is any
thing said that has such an aspect. What I say, is very
plain and express, (p. 75.) " That Christ by his minister pro
fesses his part of fee covenant, presents himself, and pro
fesses the willingness of his heart to be theirs who receive
him. That on the other hand, the communicant in re
ceiving the offered symbols, professes his part in the
covenant, and the willingness of his heart to receive Christ
who is offered." How different is this from both parties
sealing to the truth of the communicant's faith !
In p. 76, 77, and 80. he greatly misrepresents mv ar
gument from 1 Cor. xi. 28. " Let a man examine him
self," &c. as though I supposed, the Greek word translated
examine, must necessarily imply an examination to appro
bation ; that it signifies to approve ; and that a man's
examination must mean his approving himself to himself
to be sanctified. This representation he makes over and
over, and builds his answer to the argument upon it ; and
in opposition to this, he says, (p. 77. c.) " Wherever the
word means to examine to approbation, it is not used in
its natural sense, but metonymically." Whereas, there is
not the least foundation for such a representation : no such
'thing is said or suggested by me, as if I supposed that the
meaning of the word is to approve, or to examine to appro
bation. What I say is, that it properly signifies proving
or trying a thing, whether it be true and of the right sort.
(p. 77. a.) And, in the same place, I expressly speak of
the word (in the manner Mr. W. does) as not used in its
natural sense, but metonymically, when it is used to sig
nify approve. So that Mr. W.'s representation is not only
diverse from, but contrary to, what I say. Indeed I sup
pose (as well I may) that when the apostle directs persons
* Marks of a Work of the True Spirit.p. 101, 102, 103, 104. Thoughts
on the Revival of Religion, from p. 292 to 303. Nature of Religious Ajfec-

to try themselves with respect to their qualifications for the
Lord's supper, he would not have them come, if upon trial
they find themselves not qualified. But it would be ridi
culous to say, that I therefore suppose toe meaning of the
word, try or examine, is to approve, when it is evident that
the trying is only in order to knowing whether a thing is
to be approved, or disapproved.
In p. 98. -. on the argument from John's baptism, Mr.
W. alters my words, bringing them the better to comport
with the odious representation he had made of my opinion,
viz. that I required giving an account of experiences, as a
term of communion ; he puts in words as mine which
are not mine, and distinguishes them with marks of quota
tion; charging me with representing it as " probable that
John had as much time to inquire into their experiences as
into their doctrinal knowledge."— Whereas, my words are
these, (p. 101. a.) He had as much opportunity to inquire
into the credibility of their profession, as he had to inquire
into their doctrinal knowledge and moral character.
In p. 118. d. (and to the like purpose, p. 134. c.) our
autbor represents me, and others of my principles, as hold
ing, That the gospel does peremptorily sentence men to
damnation for eating and drinking without sanctifying
grace. But surely Mr. W. would have done well to have
referred to the place in my Inquiry, where any thing is said
feat has such an appearance. For, I find nothing that I
have said in that book, or any other writing of mine, about
the gospel peremptorily sentencing such men to damnation,
or signifying how far I thought they were exposed to dam
nation, or expressing my sentiments more or less about
the matter.
In p. 130. e. and 131. a. Mr. W. says, "When one
sees wito what epithets of honour Mr. Edwards in some
parts of his book has complimented Mr. Stoddard, it must
look like a strange medley to tack to them ; — That he was
a weak beggar of his question ; a supposer of what was to
be proved ; taking for granted the point in controversy ;
inconsistent with himself; ridiculously contradicting his
own arguments." These expressions, which Mr. W.
speaks of as tacked to those honourable epithets, he repre
sents as expressions which I had used concerning Mr.
Stoddard. And his readers that have not consulted my
book, will doubtless take it so from his manner of repre
sentation. Whereas, the truth is, no one of these expres
sions is used concerning Mr. S. any where in my book ;
nor is there one disrespectful word spoken of him there.
All the ground Mr. W. had to make such a representa
tion, was, that in answering arguments against my opinion
I endeavoured to show toem to be weak, (though I do not
find that I used toat epithet,) and certainly for one to pre
tend to answer arguments, and yet allow them to be strong,
would be to show- himself to be very weak. In answer
ing some of these arguments, and endeavouring to show
wherein the inconclusiveness of toem lay, I have some
times taken notice that toe defect lay in what is called
begging the question, or supposing the thing to be proved.
And if I had said so concerning Mr. S  d's arguments,
speaking of them as his, I do not know why it should be
represented as any personal reflection, or unhandsome dis
honourable treatment of him. Every inconclusive argu
ment is weak ; and the business of a disputant is to show
wherein the weakness lies : but to speak of arguments as
weak, is not to call men weak.  All the ground Mr. W.
has to speak of me as saying, that Mr. S. ridiculously con
tradicted his own arguments,is, that (in p. 11.) citing some
passages out of Mr. S— — d's Appeal, I use these words ;
" But how he reconciled these passages with toe rest of
his treatise, I would modestly say, I must confess myself
at a loss." And particularly I observed, feat I could not
see how they consist with what he says, p. 16. and so
proceed to mention one thing which appears to me not
well to consist with toem. But certainly tbis is not in
decently to reflect on Mr. S. any more than Mr. W.
indecently reflects on toe first reformers, in his answer
to Mr. Croswell, (p. 74, 75.) where speaking of toeir
doctrine of a particular persuasion as of the essence of
saving faith, he says, They are found inconsistent with
themselves, and their doctrine lighter than vanity. And
tions, p. 85-87. Preface to Inquiry into Qualifications for Communion,
p. 5.

Sect. II.

MR. W.'S MISREPRESENTATIONS.

511

again, (p. 82.) If ever, (says Mr. W.) any men were con
futed from toeir own concessions, these divines are. And
more to the like purpose  Which gives me a fail occasion
to express the like wonder at him, as he does at me, (p.
131. a.) but I forbear personal reflections.
Mr. W. (in toe same p. „.) has these words ; " And to
say, that all unsanctified men do profess and seal their
consent to the covenant of grace in toe Lord's supper,
when they know at the same time toey do not consent to
it, nor have their heart at all in the affair,— is something
worse than begging toe question,"— that is, as I suppose,
(the same that he charged me with before,) telling a mani
fest untruth. By which he plainly suggests, that I have
said thus. Whereas, I no where say, nor in any respect
signify that I suppose, all unsanctified communicants do
know toat they do not consent to toe covenant of grace. I
never made any doubt, but that multitudes of unsanctified
communicants are deceived, and think they do consent
to it.
In p. 132. a", he says of me, " The author endeavours to
show, that the admitting unsanctified persons tends to the
rain and reproach of the christian church ; and to the
ruin of the persons admitted." But how widely differ
ent is this from what I express in the place he refers to !
(Inq. p. 121. c.) That which I say there, is, that "by
express liberty given, to open the door to as many as
please, of those wbo have no visibility of real saintship,
and make no profession of it, nor pretension to it, is a
method which tends to toe ruin and great reproach of the
christian church, and also to toe rain of the persons ad
mitted." I freely grant, and show abundantly in my book,
it is never to be expected, toat all unsanctified men can be
kept out, by the most exact attendance on toe rales of
Christ, by those that admit members.
In p. 136. _. Mr. W. wholly without grounds speaks of
me as representing, that " unconverted men make preten
sion to nothing but what God's enemies have, remaining
in open and avowed rebellion against him." Whereas, I
suppose toat some natural men do profess, and profess
truly, many things, which those have not, who are open and
avowed enemies of God. They may truly profess toat sort
of moral sincerity, in many toings belonging to morality
and religion, whicb avowed enemies have not : nor is there
any sentence or word in my book, which implies or inti
mates the contrary.
In p. 141 . c. d. Mr. W. evidently insinuates, that I am
one of toose who " If men live never so strictly conform
able to the laws of the gospel, and never so diligently seek
their own salvation, to outward appearance, yet do not
stick to speak of them, and act openly towards them, as
persons giving no more public evidence, that they are not
the enemies of God and haters of Jesus Christ, toan the
very worst ofthe heathen." But surely every one toat has
read my book, every one that knows my constant conduct,
and manner of preaching, as well as writing, and how
much I have written, said, and done, against judging and
censuring persons of an externally moral and religious
behaviour, must know how injurious this representation of

SECT. II.
Instances of the second thing mentioned as exceptionable in
Mr. W.'s method of managing this controversy ; viz. His
misrepresenting what is said in the writings of others,
that he supposes favour his opinion.
Perhaps instances enough of this have already been
taken notice of ; yet I would now mention some others.
In what he says in reply to my answer to the eighth ob
jection, he says, (p. 108.) " Mr. Stoddard does not say,
If sanctifying grace be necessary to a person's lawful par
taking of the Lord's supper, then God would have given
some certain rule, whereby those who are to admit them,
may know whether toey have such grace or not." Mr. W.
there intimates (as the reader may see) as if Mr. S. spake
so, that it is to be understood disjunctively, meaning, he
would either have given some certain rule to the church
who admit them, or else to the persons themselves : so

that by one means or other, the Lord's supper might be
restrained to converted men. And he exclaims against me
for representing as though Mr. Stoddard's argument were
conceming a certain rule, whereby those who are to admit
them, may know whether they have grace, (see the foregoing
page,) and speaks of it as nothing akin to Mr. S.'s argu
ment. Now let the reader take notice of Mr. S.'s words,
and see whether his argument be not something a7cire to
this. He says expressly, (Appeal, p. 75.) " God does not
bind his church to impossibilities. If he had made such
an ordinance, he would give gifts to bis church, to dis
tinguish sincere men from hypocrites, wbereby the ordi
nance might have been attended. — The minor is also evi
dent : he has given no such rule to his church, whereby
it may be restrained to converted men. This appears, be
cause by the rule that they are to go by, they are allowed
to give the Lord's supper to many unconverted men.
For all visible signs are common to men converted, and
unconverted." So that Mr. S. in fact does say, If sancti
fying grace be necessary to a person's lawful partaking of
the Lord's supper, then God would have given some cer
tain rule, whereby the church [those who are to admit
them] may know, whether they have grace, or not. Though
Mr. W. denies it, and says, this is nothing akin to Mr. S.'s
argument ; contrary to the plainest fact.
In p. 99. Mr. W. replying to my answer to the sixth
objection, misrepresents Mr. Hudson, in the following
passage. " This, (i. e. baptism,) says Mr. Hudson, makes
them members of the body of Christ. And as for a par
ticular explicit covenant, besides the general imposed on
churches, I find no mention of it, no example, nor warrant
for it, in all the Scripture." — Here Mr. W. is still mani
festly endeavouring to discredit my doctrine of an explicit
owning the covenant of grace ; and he so manages and
alters Mr. Hudson's words, as naturally leads the reader to
suppose, that Mr. Hudson speaks against this : whereas,
he says not a word about it. What Mr. H. speaks of, is
not an explicit owning the covenant of grace, or baptismal
covenant ; but a particular church-covenant, by which a
particular society bind themselves explicitly, one to an
other, jointly to carry on the public worship. Mr. Hud
son's words are, (p. 19.) " I dare not make a particular
explicit holy covenant to be the form of a particular
church, as this description seemeth to do ; because I find no
mention of any such covenant, besides the general im
posed on churches, nor example, nor warrant for it, in all the
Scripture." And then afterwards Mr. Hudson says, " but it
is the general covenant sealed by baptism, and not this,
that makes them members ofthe body of Christ." — Mr. W.
by citing distant passages in Mr. Hudson, and joining
them, inhis own way, by particles and conjunctions, which
Mr. Hudson does not use, and leaving out these words — -
To be the form of a particular church, as this description
seemeth to do, — quite blinds the mind of his reader, as to
Mr. Hudson's true sense, which is nothing to Mr. W.'s
purpose. — Mr. Hudson says not a word here against, or
about an express or explicit covenanting, or owning the
covenant in my sense : but in other places, in the same
book, he speaks of it, and for it, as necessary for all Chris
tians. Thus, (p. 69. b. c.) " There is one individual ex
press, eternal covenant ; not only on God's part, — but also
it is one external, visible covenant, on men's part ; which
all Christians, as Christians, enter into, by their pro
fessed acceptance, and express restipulation, and pro
mised subjection and obedience ; though not altogether in
one place, or at one time." He speaks again to fee same
purpose, p. 100.

SECT. III.
Instances of the third thing observed in Mr. W.'s manner
of arguing, viz. His pretending to oppose and answer
arguments, by saying things which have no reference to
them, but relate to other matters, perfectly foreign to the
subject of the argument.
Such is his answer (p. 37, &c.) to my argument from
Isa. lvi. Particularly from those words, 6. 7. " Also the
sons of the stranger, that join themselves to the Lord, to

512

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

serve him, to love the name of fee Lord, to be his servants,
— even them will I bring to my holy mountain, and
make them joyful in my house of prayer," &c. For I say
nothing under that argument, (as Mr. W. in his answer
E resumes,) which supposes any antithesis or opposition
ere between the state of the Gentiles and eunuchs under
the Old Testament, and under the gospel, as to terms of ac
ceptance with God: nor any opposition, as to a greater
necessity of sanctifying grace, to the lawful partaking of
ordinances, under fee gospel, toan under the law; as Mr.
W. also supposes in his arguings on this head. But the
opposition I speak of, as plainly pointed forth in toe chap
ter, is this : That whereas under the law, not only piety of
heart and practice were required, but something else, even
soundness of body and circumcision, it is foretold, toat
under the gospel, piety of heart and practice only should
be required; that although they were eunuchs or uncir
cumcised, yet if it appeared toat they loved the name ofthe
Lord, &c. they should be admitted.
So when I argued, that Christ, in toe latter part of the
7th chap, of Matt, representing the final issue of things,
with regard to the visible church in general, speaks of all
as those who had looked on themselves to be interested in
him as their Lord and Saviour, and had an opinion of their
good estate ; though the hope of some was built on the
sand, and others on a rock : — Mr. W. in his reply, (p. 40,
41.) entirely overlooks the argument, and talks about
otoer toings. He says, Christ does not find fault with
those that cried, Lord, Lord, for entering into covenant,
but for not keeping covenant, (p. 41. b.) Here he runs
back to another thing, relating to another argument, to
which this has no reference, which he dwells wholly upon ;
and says nothing to the argument I use in that place.
So in his reply to what I say on the parable of the
wheat and tares, (p. 98, &x.) he has entirely overlooked the
argument. He says, to vindicate the objection, (p. 99.)
" Which we think shows us the mind and will of Christ
in this matter is, that his servants shall proceed only on
certain established rules of his visible kingdom, and not
upon any private rules of judging about toem." — Whereas,
I never said, or supposed, toat Christ's servants must not
proceed on certain established rules of his visible kingdom, or
that they ought to go upon any private rules of judging ;
but particularly and largely expressed my mind to the
contrary, in explaining the question ; (Inq. p. 5.) " That it
is properly a visibility to the eye of the public charity, and
not of a private judgment, that gives a right to be received
as visible saints by the public." And repeat the same thing
again, p. 125. c. a.
And as to what Mr. W. says in this place about infants
being born in the church, it entirely diverts the reader to
another point (which I shall hereafter particularly consider)
wholly distinct from the subject of the argument; which is
about rules of admission into the church, whenever they are
admitted. If persons are born in toe church in complete
standing, as Mr. W. supposes, then they are not admitted at
all, but in their arecesto.. But, however, the question re
turns, whether ancestors that are unsanctified, can have a
lawful right to come into the church ? Mr. W. holds they
may. The subject of the argument is about bringing in
tares into the field, whenever they are brought in, whether
sooner or later ; and whether tares have a lawful right, by
warrant from Christ, to be in the field; supposing this to
intend the church of Christ. The argument I produced to
the contrary was, that the tares were introduced contrary
to the owner's design, through men's infirmity and Satan's
Crocurement. Which argument, being entirely overlooked
y my opponent, I desire it may be now particularly con
sidered. When the devil brought in toe tares, it is manifest, he
brought in something that did not belong there ; and
therein counteracted the owner of the field, and did it
* " The apostles looked on all those, whom they gathered into churches
or christian congregations to eat the Lord's supper, as having the truth
dwelling in them : and so they behoved, every one of them, to look upon
one another : seeing they could not love one another as brettiren in the
truth, without acknowledging that truth as dwelling in them. And so we
see the apostles, in their writings to the churches, supposing all theirmem-
bers objects of this brotherly love. — Christ's visible church then is the con
gregation of those whom the apostle could call the saints and faithful in
Chnst Jesus."— Gtass's Noteson Scripture Texts, Numb. 5. p. 32.
t A good argument might also be drawn from the corruption of unsancti-

under that very notion of crossing his design. An enemy
(says the parable) hath done this. But how does this con
sist wito the tares having a lawful right, by the owner's
warrant and appointment, to have a standing in his field ?
If Christ by his institution has, in mercy to unsanctified
men, given them a lawful right to come into the church,
that it may be a means of their conversion ; then it is a
work of his kindness, as the compassionate Redeemer of
souls, to bring them in ; and not the doing of the great
enemy and destroyer of souls. If the great Physician of
souls has built his church, as an infirmary, in compassion
to those that are sick, for this end, that they maybe brought
in and healed there ; shall it be said with surprise, when
such are found there, How came those sick people here ?
And shall the compassionate Physician, who built the hos
pital, make answer, An enemy hath done this?
Besides, if Christ has appointed that unsanctified men
should come into the church, in order to their conversion,
it would be an instance ofthe faithfulness of his servants to
bring in such. But the bringing in tares into the field, is
not represented as owing to the faithfulness and watchful
ness of the servants ; but on the contrary, is ascribed to
their sleepiness and remissness. They were brought in
while they slept, who ought to have done the part of
watchmen, in keeping them out, and preventing the de
signs of the subtle enemy that brought them in. — Perhaps
some would be ready to make the reflection that those
churches whose practice is agreeable to the loose principles
Mr. W. espouses, do that at noon-day, in the presence of
God, angels, and men, which the devil did in the dead of
the night, while men slept !
Again, Mr. W. in his reply to my argument from that
christian brotherly love, which is required towards all
members of the visible church, goes entirely off from the
argument, to things quite alien from it. His first answer
(p. 69. c.) is, that the exercise of this christian love is not
the term of communion or admission into the visible church :
which is perfectly foreign to the business. For the argu
ment respects the object of this love, viz. visible saints,
that are to be thus beloved; and not at all toe qualifica
tions of the inherent subject of it, or the person that exer
cises this love. If toey that are admitted, are to be loved
as true saints, or for the image of Christ appearing in them,
or supposed to be in them, (as Mr. W. allows (p. 68. c.)
then it will follow, that none are to be admitted, but such
as can reasonably be toe objects of christian love, or be
loved as true saints, and as those who have the image of
Christ appearing in them. Whether the exercise of this
love be fee term of communion, or not ; yet if we are
commanded to exercise this love to all feat are admitted
to communion, then it will certainly follow, toat some
reasonable ground for being thus beloved, must be a term
of communion in such as are admitted. To suppose it
appointed, toat we should love all that are admitted as
true saints, and yet that it is not appointed that such as
are admitted should exhibit any reasonable grounds for
such a love, is certainly to suppose very inconsistent ap
pointments. *
Mr. W.'s second answer (p. 70. b.) is no less imperti
nent; viz. That men's right to communion in gospel-ordi
nances does not depend upon the corruptions of other men, in
their forbearing to love them. As if my argument were,
toat unless men are actually loved, as true saints, they have
no right to communion ! Whereas, toe argument was very
diverse, viz. That unless men have a right to be so loved,
they have no right to communion. If men have an ap
pearance, to reason, of being true saints, feey may bave a
right to be loved as true saints, and to be admitted as
such ; however corrupt and void of love otoer men are :
but without such an appearance to reason, it is no corrup
tion, not to love them as true saints ; unless it be corrupt,
not to act without reason, f — As to Mr. W.'s third answer,
tied men ; for that they are all so under the power of corruption, that they
are not able to love saints, or any one else, with truly christian love Agree
able to what Mr. Stoddard says in his three sermons, (p. 40 ) " Men are
obliged to love their neighbours as themselves, But no natural men do in
any measure live up to that rule ; but men are great enemies one to another,
hateful and hating one another. They do but little good one to another •
they do a great deal of hurt one to another." Now is it reasonable to sup
pose, that such men have the proper qualifications, by divine institution for
a lawful right to be members of the visible family of God ?

Sect. III.

ARGUMENTS WHICH ARE IRRELEVANT.

513

and the misrepresentation it is built upon, it has already
been taken notice of.
In Mr. W.'s reply to my answer to fee first objection,
(p. 81, &c.) he wholly leaves the argument, and writes
in support and defence of other matters, quite different
from those which I mentioned, or had any concern with.
The objection which I mentioned, and which had been
much insisted on by some against my opinion, was, That
church-members are called disciples, or scholars ; a name,
that gives us a notion of the visible church as a school ;
and leads us to suppose, that all who profess that sort of
faith and sincerity, which implies a disposition to seek
christian learning and spiritual attainments, are qualified
for admission.' But Mr. W. says nothing at all in support
of this objection. In answer to it, I endeavoured to show,
that the name disciples given to church-members, does
not argue that unsanctified persons are fit to be members.
He says nothing to show that it does. He says, if it will
not follow from Christ's visible church being represented
as Christ's school, that it is in order to all good attain
ments ; yet it is in order to all that they have not yet attained.
Which is nothing to the purpose, but foreign to the thing
in debate, viz. Whether sanctifying grace is one of' those
things which are not yet attained by those that are lawfully
in trie church. He there says nothing to prove that it is ;
and especially to prove it from the meaning of the word,
disciples ; which was the argument in hand. He insists,
that men may be sufficiently subject to Christ as their
master and teacher, in order to be in his school or church,
without grace : but then the thing to be proved, was, that
church-members being called disciples makes this evident,
in order to support the argument or objection I was upon :
which argument is entirely neglected throughout all his
discourse under this head.
So in his reply to my answer to the eleventh objection,
(p. 123, &c.) he wholly neglects the argument, and
labours to support a different one. I endeavoured, with
out concerning myself about the words of any argument
in Mr. Stoddard's Appeal, to answer an argument abund
antly used at Northampton against my doctrine, of un
sanctified men not having a right to come to toe Lord's
supper ; which was this, " You may as well say, that
unsanctified men may not attend any other duty of wor
ship :" and particularly, " You may as well forbid them
to pray." — As for Mr. "S.'s objection, in these words, " If
unsanctified men may attend all other ordinances or duties
of worship, then they may lawfully attend the Lord's
supper ;" it was an argument I was not obliged to attend
to in the words in which he delivered it, because it was
not an argument brought against my scheme of things, but
one very diverse : since it is not my opinion, that unsanc
tified men may attend all other ordinances, or duties of
worship, besides the Lord's supper ; for I do not suppose ,
such may offer themselves to baptism ; which Mr. S. takes
for granted, in his argument. And therefore what Mr.
W. says in support of it, is quite beside the business. As
to the argument I was concerned with, taken especially
from the lawfulness of unsanctified men praying, to prove,
that therefore it must be lawful for them to come to the
Lord's supper, certainly if there be any consequence in
it, the consequence depends on the truth of this supposi
tion, that the same thing which makes it lawful for a man
to pray, also makes it lawful for him to come to the Lord's
supper. And seeing this position is proved to be not
true, the argument falls to toe ground. And Mr. W.'s
nice observations and distinctions, of a non obstante, and
a simply and per se, are nothing to the purpose.
This good reason (with several others) may be given,
why the same that makes it lawful for a man to pray and
hear the word, will not make it lawful for him to partake of
sacraments, viz. that the sacraments are not only duties,
but covenant privileges, and are never lawfully given or
received but under that notion. Whereas, it is not so
with prayer and hearing the word : and therefore they who
have no interest in the covenant of grace, and are in no
respect God's covenant people, may lawfully hear the
word and pray.- But it is agreed on all hands, that they
who are not in some respect God's covenant people,
may not come to sacraments : and toe reason is this, be
cause sacraments are covenant privileges. And this same
vol. i. 2 L

reason will prove, that none but true believers, or those
that have saving faith, the only condition of the covenant
of grace, have a right to sacraments. For, as was observed
before, the condition of any covenant is tbe condition of all
the benefits or privileges of that covenant. (See Part II.
sect. 8.

SECT. IV.
Tlie fourth thing observed in Mr. W.'s method qf managing
the controversy, particularly considered, viz. His ad
vancing new and extraordinary notions, not only mani
festly contrary to truth, but also to the common and re
ceived principles of the christian church.
Thus it is wito regard to many things which have
already been taken notice of. As, that men may be un
godly, and yet truly profess to love God more than the
world ; that men may be professors of religion and have
no true grace, and yet not be lukewarm, but serve God as
their only master ; that such may profess to be subject to
Christ with all their hearts, and to give up all their hearts
and lives to Christ, and speak true, &c. &c.
I shall now take notice of another remarkable instance,
viz.' That Mr. W. in his reply to my argument from the
epithets and characters given by the apostles to the mem
bers of visible christian churches, in their epistles, repre
sents, (p. 56. _.) That there " is no difference in all the
epithets and characters, which I had heaped up from the
New Testament," from those that are given m' the Old
Testament, to the whole body of the Jewish church ;
which he elsewhere abundantly suppose to be toe whole
body of the Jewish nation ; yea, even in their worst times,
till the nation was rejected and cast off by God from be
ing any longer his people; as I shall have occasion
particularly to observe afterwards.
That it may be the more easily judged, how manifestly
this is contrary to truth, I shall here repeat some of those
epithets and characters I before mentioned, to which Mr.
W. has reference. This is very manifest concerning most
of them ; but toat I may not be tedious, I will now rehearse
but a few instances : viz. Being " made free from sin, and
becoming the servants of righteousness :" Having " the
spirit of adoption :" Being " the children of God, heirs of
God, joint-heirs with Christ :" Being " vessels of mercy,
prepared unto glory :" Being such " as do not live to
themselves, nor die to toemselves ; but live to the Lord,
and die unto the Lord ;" and who " living and dying are
the Lord's :" Being those that have " all things for theirs,
whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life,
or death, or things present, or things to come ; because
they are Christ's : Being " begotten through toe gospel :"
Being such as " shall judge the world :" Being " washed,
sanctified, justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by
the Spirit of our God :" Being " manifestly declared to
be the epistle of Christ, written not with ink, but by the
Spirit of the living God ; not in tables of stone, but in
fleshly tables of the heart :" Being such as " behold as in
a glass the glory of the Lord, and are changed into fee
same image, from glory to glory :" Being " chosen in
Christ before the foundation of toe world, that they should
be holy and without blame before him in love ; and pre
destinated unto the adoption of children :" Being " sealed
by that holy spirit of promise :" Being " quickened,
though once dead in trespasses and sins :" Being " made
meet to be partakers of the inheritance of fee saints in
light :" Being " dead, and having their life hid with Christ
in God ;" and being those who, " when Christ who is
our life shall appear, shall also appear with him in glory;
having put off the old man wife his deeds, and having
put on fee new man, which is renewed in knowledge, after
the image of him that created him :" Being " begotten
again to a living hope — to an inheritance incorruptible,
and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven
for them ; who are kept by the power of God through
faith unto salvation ; who love Christ, though they have
not seen him ; in whom, though now they see him not,
yet believing, toey rejoice with joy unspeakable and full
of glory ; having purified their souls in obeying the truth
through the Spirit ; knowing him. toat is from the begin-

514

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

ning ; having their sins forgiven ; having overcome fee
wicked one ; having an unction from the Holy One, by
which they know all things; who are now fee sons of
God ; and who, when Christ shall appear, shall be like
him, because they shall see him as he is."
Now let tlie christian reader judge, with what face of
reason our author could represent as though there were
nothing in all these epithets and characters, more than
used of old to be given to the whole nation of the Jews,
and that even in times of their greatest corruption and
apostacy, till the nation was rejected of God ! One would
think, there is no need of arguing the matter with any that
have read toe Bible.
This representation of Mr. W.'s is not only very con
trary to truth, but also to the common sentiments of the
christian church. Though I pretend not to be a person of
great reading, yet I have read enough to warrant this
assertion. I never yet (as I remember) met with any
author toat went the same length in this matter with Mr.
W. but Mr. Taylor, of Norwich, in England, toe author
who lately has been so famous for his corrupt doctrine.
In his piece which he calls A Key to the Apostolic Writ
ings, where he delivers his scheme of religion, (which seems
scarcely so agreeable to the christian scheme, as the doc
trine of many of toe wiser heathen,) he delivers toe same
opinion, and insists largely upon it ; it being a main thing
to establish his whole scheme. And it evidently appears,
in the manner of his delivering it, that he is sensible it is
exceeding far from what has hitherto been the commonly
received sentiment in the christian world. He supposes
that as all toose epithets and characters belong to toe whole
nation of the Jews, even in their most corrupt times, so
they belong to all Christendom, even toe most vicious parts
of it ; that toe most vicious men, who are baptized, and
Erofess to believe Jesus to be the Messiah, are " chosen
efore the foundation of the world, predestinated accord
ing to the foreknowledge of God, regenerated, justified,
sanctified, children of God, heirs of God, joint-heirs with
Christ, the spouse of Christ, the temple of God, made to
sit together in heavenly places in Christ, being the family
of heaven," &c. &c. And certainly he may with as good
reason, and with the same reason, suppose this of all
Christendom, even the most vicious parts of it, as of the
whole nation of the Jews, however corrupt, till there was
a national rejection of toem.
Indeed, it is manifest there is no other way of evading
the force of the argument from the epistles, but by falling
into Taylor's scheme. If his scheme of religion be not
true, then it is plain as any fact in the New Testament,
toat all the christian churches, through toe whole earth, in
toe apostles' days, were constituted in the manner that I
insist on. The Scripture says ten times as much to demon
strate this matter, as it does about the manner of discipline,
officers and government of the church, or about the
several parts of the public worship, or the sanctification of
the christian sabbath.

SECT. V.
Instances qf the fifth and sixth particulars, in Mr. W.'s
method qf disputing, viz. his using confident and peremp
tory assertions, and great exclamations, instead qf argu
ments.We have an instance of toe former, in his reply to my
answer to the 14th objection, ii.. That it is not unlawful
for unsanctified men to carry themselves like saints. I
objected against this, if thereby be meant, that they may
lawfully carry toemselves externally like saints in all
respects, remaining ungodly ; and mentioned some tilings
which belonged to the external duty of godly men, wbich
no ungodly man, remaining such, may do To wbich Mr.
W. makes no reply ; but to prove tbe point says, " Mr.
St — d knew, and all divines know, That the external car
riage of some unsanctified men is to the outward appear
ance, and the public judgment of the church, the same
with toe carriage of the saints ; and they know they are
bound to such a behaviour." And this peremptory con
fident assertion is all the argument he brings to prove the
thing asserted.

Again, I observe, that sometimes Mr. W. uses great ex
clamation, as though he intended to alarm, and excite
terror in his readers, and raise then indignation ; though
they are perhaps never likely to know for wliat. We have
two very remarkable instances of this, (p. 136 and 137.)
where he says, " I shall further take notice of two extra
ordinary and surprising passages, if I understand them.
And I have with great diligence tried to find out toe meaning
of toem. One is p. 129. between the 17th and 23d lines ;
if it be rightly printed."— He does not quote my words :
this mighty exclamation would have become too flat, and
appeared ridiculous, if he had.— The passage referred to
is in these words—" Indeed such a tendency (i. e. a ten
dency to irreligion and profaneness) it would have, to shut
men out from having any part in the Lord, in toe sense of
the two tribes and half, Josh. xxii. 25. or to fence them out
by such a partition-wall, as formerly was between Jews
and Gentiles ; and so to shut them out as to tell toem, if
feey were never so much disposed to serve God, he was
not ready to accept them : according to toe notion fee Jews
seem to have had of the uncircumcised Gentiles." That
is, plainly to shut them out so as to tell them, that let
toem bave hearts never so well and piously disposed to
love and serve God, their love and service could not be
accepted. — This doubtless would have a tendency to dis
courage religion in men. And how the owning of it, is an
owning my scheme to have such a tendency, I do not
know. Mr. W. might as well have picked out any other
sentence through all the 1 36 pages of the book, and called
it an extraordinary/ passage, and stood astonished over it,
and told bow he was ready to doubt whether it was rightly
printed, and what great diligence he had used to find out
the meaning qf it !
The other extraordinary passage he stands thunderstruck
with, is in these words ; " May it not be suspected, that
tois way of baptizing the children of such as never make
any proper profession of godliness, is an expedient origi
nally invented for toat very end, to give ease to ancestors
with respect to their posterity, in times of great declension
and degeneracy ?" — Mr. W. knows, toat through the
whole of my book I suppose, this practice of baptizing
the children of such as are here spoken of, is wrong ; and
so does he too ; for he abundantly allows, toat persons in
order to be admitted to the privileges of visible saints,
must make a profession of real piety, or gospel-holiness.
And if it be wrong, as we are both agreed, then surely it is
nothing akin to blasphemy, to suspect that it arose from
some bad cause.

SECT. VI.
Instances qf the seventh particular observed in Mr. W.'s
way qf disputing, viz. His wholly overlooking argu
ments, pretending there is no argument, nothing to answer;
when the case is far otherwise.
Thus in his reply to my tenth argument, which was
this, " It is necessary, that those who partake of the Lord's
supper, should judge themselves truly and cordially to
accept of Christ as their Saviour, and chief good ; for this
is what the actions, which communicants perform at the
Lord's table, are a solemn profession of." I largely en
deavoured (in p. 75, 76, and 77.) to prove this, from the
nature of those significant actions, of receiving the symbols
of Christ's body and blood when offered, representing their
accepting toe thing signified, as their spiritual food, &c.
To all which Mr. W. says, (p. 74. a.) "I do not find that
Mr. Edwards has said any thing to prove the proposition,
which is the whole argument offered here in proof of the
point proposed to be proved, but only gives bis opinion,
or paraphrase, of the purport and nature of tbe sacramental
actions. — Since Mr. W. esteems it no argument, I desire
it may be considered impartially whether there be any ar
gument in it or no.
These sacramental actions all allow to be significant
actions : they are a signification and profession of some
thing : they are not actions without a meaning. And all
allow, that these external actions signify something inward
and spiritual. And if they signify any thing spiritual,
they doubtless signify toose spiritual toings which they

Sect. VII.

WHAT IS BEGGING THE QUESTION.

51;

represent. But what inward thing does the outward taking
or accepting toe body and blood of Christ represent, but
the inward accepting Christ's body and blood, or an ac
cepting bim in fee heart ? And what spiritual tiling is the
outward feeding on Christ in this ordinance a sign of, but
a spiritual feeding on Christ, or the soul's feeding on bim ?
Now there is no other way of the soul's feeding on him,
but by that faith, by which Christ becomes our spiritual
food, and fee refreshment and vital nourishment of our
souls. The outward eating and drinking in this ordinance
is a sign of spiritual eating and drinking, as much as the
outward bread in this ordinance is a sign of spiritual bread ;
or as much as the outward drink is a sign of spiritual
drink. And doubtless those actions, if they are a profes
sion of any thing at all, are a profession of the things
they signify.* To say, that these significant actions are
appointed to be a profession of something, but not to be a
profession of the things they are appointed to signify, is as
unreasonable as to say, that certain sounds or words are
appointed to be a profession of something, but not to be a
profession of the things signified by those words.
Again, Mr. W. in his reply to my answer to the second
objection, with like contempt passes over the main argu
ment which 1 offered, to prove that the nation of Israel
were called God's people, and covenant people, in another
sense besides a being visible saints. My argument (in
p. 85, 86.) was this : That it is manifest, something di
verse from being visible saints, is often intended by that
nation being called God's people, and that the family of
Israel according to the flesh — not with regard to any moral
and religious qualifications — were in some sense adopted
by God, to be his peculiar and covenant people ; from
Rom. ix. 3, 4, 5. — "I could wish myself accursed from
Christ for my brethren according to the flesh ; who are
Israelites ; to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory,
and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and fee
service of God, and the promises ; whose are the fathers,"
&c. I observed, toat these privileges are spoken of as
belonging to the Jews, not now as visible saints, not as
professors of the true religion, not as members of the
visible church of Christ, (which they did not belong to,)
but only as a people of such a nation, such a blood, such
an external carnal relation to the patriarchs, their ancestors;
Israelites according to the Jiesh : inasmuch as the apostle
is speaking here of the unbelieving Jews, professed un
believers, that were out of the christian church, and open
visible enemies to it ; and such as had no right at all to
the external privileges of Christ's people.— I observed
further, that in like manner this apostle in Rom. xi. 28,
29. speaks of the same unbelieving Jews, that were ene
mies to the gospel, as in some respect an elect people, and
interested in fee calling, promises, and covenants, God
formerly gave their forefathers, and are still beloved for
their sakes. "As concerning the gospel, they are enemies
for your sakes ; but as touching the election, they are be
loved for toe fathers' sakes. For toe gifts and calling of
God are without repentance."
All that Mr. W. says, which has any reference to these
things, is, "That he had read my explication of the name
of the people of God, as given to the people of Israel, &c.
But that he confesses, it is perfectly unintelligible to him."
The impartial reader is left to judge, whether the matter
did not require some other answer.

SECT. VII.
What is, and what is not, begging the question ; and how
Mr. W. charges me, from time to time, with begging the
question, without cause.
Among toe particulars of Mr. W.'s method of disputing,
I observed, that he often causelessly charges me with begging
* Mr. Stoddard owns, that the sacramental actions, both in baptism and
the Lord's supper, signify saving faith in Christ. Safety of App. p. 120.
" By baptism is signified our fellowship with Christ in his sufferings. That
is signified hereby, that we have an interest in the virtue of his sufferings,
that his sufferings are made over unto us, and that we do participate in the
good and benefit of them.  It was John the Baptist's manner, before he
baptized persons, to teach them that they must believe on Christ. And the
apostles and apostolical men would not baptize any adult persons but such
2 _ 2

the question, while he frequently begs the question himself,
or does that which is equivalent.
But toat it may be determined with justice and clearness,
who does, and who does not, beg toe question, 1 desire it
may be particularly considered, what that is which is
called begging the question in a dispute. — This is more
especially needful for the sake of illiterate readers. And
here, 1. Let it be observed, that merely to suppose something
in a dispute, without bringing any argument to prove it,
is not begging the question : for this is done necessarily,
in every dispute, and even in the best and clearest demon
strations. One point is proved by another, till at length
the matter is reduced to a point that is supposed to need
no proof ; either because it is self-evident, or is a thing
wherein both parties are agreed, or so clear that it is sup
posed it will not be denied.
2. Nor is begging the question the same thing as offer
ing a weak argument, to prove the point in question. It
is not all weak arguing, but one particular woy of weak
arguing, that is called begging the question.
3. Nor is it toe same thing as missing the. true question,
and bringing an argument that is impertinent, or beside the
question. But the thing which is called begging the question, is the
making use of the very point in debate, or fee thing to be
proved, as an argument to prove itself. Thus, if I were
endeavouring to prove that none but godly persons might
come to sacraments, and should take this for an argument to
prove it, toat none might come but such as have saving faith,
taking this for granted ; I should then beg the question :
for this is the very point in question, whether a man must
have saving faith or no ? It is called begging the question,
because it is a depending as it were on fee courtesy of toe
other side, to grant me the point in question, without
offering any argument as the price of it.
And whether the point I feus take for granted, be the
main point in question, in the general dispute, or some
subordinate point, something under consideration, under a
particular argument ; yet if I take this particular point
for granted, and then make use of it to prove itself, it is
begging the question.
Thus if I were endeavouring, under tois general con
troversy between Mr. W. and me, to prove that particular
point, feat we ought to love all the members of fee church
as true saints ; and should bring this as a proof of the
point, toat we ought to love all the members of toe church
as true Christians, taking this for granted ; this is only the
same thing, under another term, as the thing to be proved ;
and therefore is no argument at all, but only begging the
question. Or if the point I thus take for granted, and make use
of as an argument, be neither the general point in contro
versy, nor yet the thing nextly to be proved under a par
ticular argument ; yet if it be some known controverted
point between the parties, it is begging the question, or
equivalent to it : for it is begging a thing known to be in
question in the dispute, and using it as if it were a thing
allowed. I would now consider the instances, wherein Mr. W.
asserts or suggests that I have begged the question.
In p. 30. d. e. and 31. a. 6. he represents the force of
my reasoning as built on a supposition, that there is no
unsanctified man, but what knows he has no desire of
salvation by Christ, no design to fulfil the covenant of
grace, but designs to live in stealing, lying, adultery, — or
some other known sin : and then says, " Is it not mani
fest, that such sort of reasoning is a mere quibbling with
words, and begging the question?" And so insinuates,
that I have feus begged the question. Whereas, I no
where say or suppose this which he speaks of, nor any
thing like it. But on the contrary, often say, what sup
poses an unsanctified man may think he is truly godly,
as professed to believe on Christ.— He that believeth and is baptized, shall
be saved. Baptism is mentioned as the evidence of faith." — So concerning
the Lord's supper, ibid. p. 122. e. 123. a. "In this ordinance we are invited
to put our trust in the death of Christ. Take, eat; this is my body ; and
drink ye all of it. When the body feeds on the sacramental bread and
wine, the soul is to do that which answers unto it; The soul is to feed on
Christ crucified ; which is nothing else but the acting faith on him."

516

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

and that he has truly upright and gracious designs and
desires. — Nor does any argument of mine depend on any
such supposition. Nay, under the argument he speaks of,
I expressly suppose the contrary, ui.. That unsanctified
men who visibly enter into covenant, may be deceived.
In p. 38. a. Mr. W. makes a certain representation of
my arguing from Isaiah lvi. and then savs upon it, " It is
no arguing, but only begging the question." But as has
been already shown, that which he represents as my argu
ment from that scripture, has no relation to my argument.
In p. 59. in opposition to my arguing from the Epistles,
that fee apostles treated those members of churches which
they wrote to, as those who had been received on a posi
tive judgment, i.e. (as I explain myself,) a proper and
affirmative opinion, that they were real saints; Mr. W.
argues, that the apostles could make no such judgment of
them, without either personal converse, or revelation ; un
less it be supposed to be founded on a presumption, that
ministers who baptized them, would not have done it, un
less they had themselves made such a positive judgment
concerning their state : and then adds these words, This
may do for this scheme, but only it is a begging the ques
tion. Whereas, it is a point that never has been in question
in this controversy, as ever I knew, whetoer some ministers
or churches might reasonably and affirmatively suppose,
the members of other churches they are united with, were
admitted on evidence of proper qualifications, (whatever
they be, whether common or saving,) trusting to the faith
fulness of other ministers and churches. Besides, this can
be no point in question between me and Mr. W. unless it
be a point in question between him and himself. For he
holds, as well as I, that persons ought not to be received
as visible Christians, without moral evidence (which is
something positive, and not a mere negation of evidence
of the contrary) of gospel-holiness.
In p. 82. of my book I suppose, that none at all do
truly subject themselves to Christ as their master, but
those who graciously subject themselves to him, and are
delivered from the reigning power of sin. Mr. W. sug
gests, (p. 83. _.) that herein I beg the question. For
which there is no pretext, not only as this is no known
point in controversy between the parties in this debate ;
but also as it is a point I do not take for granted, but offer
this argument to prove it, that they who have no grace,
are under the reigning power of sin, and no man can truly
subject himself to two such contrary masters, at the same
time, as Christ and sin. I think this argument sufficient
to obtain the point, without begging it. And besides,
this doctrine, feat they who have no grace do not truly
subject themselves to Christ, was no point in question
between me and Mr. W. But a point wherein we were
fullv agreed, and wherein he had before expressed himself
as fully, and more fully, than I. In his sermons on Christ
a King and Witness, (p. 18. _.) he speaks of all such as
do not depend on Christ, believe in him, and give up
themselves and all to him, as not true subjects to Christ ;
but enemies to him, and his kingdom. We have expres
sions to the same purpose again, in p. 74. and 91. and in
p. 94. _. e. of the same book, he says, " It is utterly in
consistent with the nature of the obedience of the gospel,
that it should be a forced subjection. — No man is a subject
of Christ, who does not make the laws and will of Cbrist
his choice, and desire to be governed by him, and to live
in subjection to the will of Christ, as good and fit, and
best to be the rule of his living, and way to his happiness.
A forced obedience to Christ is no obedience. It is in
terms a contradiction. Christ draws men with the cords
of love, and the bands of a man. Our Lord bas himself
expressly determined this point." There are other passages
in the same book to the same purpose. So that I had no
need to beg this point of Mr. W. since he had given it
largely, and that in full measure, and over and over again,
without begging.
In p. 120. b. he observes, " That to say, such a pro
fession of internal invisible things is the rule to direct the
church in admission, — is to hide the parallel, and beg the
question. For the question here is about the persons'
right to come, and not about the church's admitting them."
Here Mr. W. would make us believe, that he does not
know what begging the question is : for it is evident, his

meaning is, that my saying so is beside the question. But
to say something beside the question, is a different thing
from begging the question, as has been observed. My
saving, that a profession of invisible things is the church's
rule in admission', is not begging the question : because it
is not, nor ever was, anv thing in question. For Mr. S.
and Mr. W. himself are full in it, that a profession of in
visible things, such as a believing that Christ is the Son of
God, &c. is the church's rule. Yea, Mr. W. is express in
it, that a credible profession and visibility of gospel-holiness
is' the church's rule, p. 139. Nor is my saying as above,
beside the question then in hand, relating to the church of
Israel admitting to the priesthood, those that could not
find their register. For that wholly relates to the rule of
admission to the priesthood, and not to the priests' assur
ance of their own right. For, as I observed, if the priests
had been never so fully assured of their pedigree, yet if
they could not demonstrate it to others, by a public re- V
gister, it would not have availed for their admission.
Again, in p. 124. _. Mr. W. charges me with begging
the question, in supposing that sacraments are duties of
worship whose very nature and design is an exhibition of
those vital and active principles and inward exercises,
wherein consists the condition of the covenant of grace.
He charges the same thing as a begging the question, p.
131. _. — But this fs no begging the question, for two rea
sons ; (1.) Because I had before proved this point, by
proofs which Mr. W. has not seen cause to attempt to
answer, as has been just now observed, in the last section.
(2.) This, when I wrote, was no point in question, where
in Mr. W. and I differed ; but wherein we were agreed,
and in which he had declared himself as fully as I, in his
sermons on Christ a King and Witness ; p. 76. c. " When
we attend sacraments (says he) we are therein visibly to
profess our receiving Christ, and the graces of his Spirit,
and the benefits of his redemption, on his own terms and
offer, and giving up the all of our souls to him, on his call,
covenant, and engagement." And in the next preceding
page but one, in a place forecited, he speaks of these acts
" as mockery, hypocrisy, falsehood, and lies, if they are not
the expressions of faith and hope, and spiritual acts of
obedience." So that I had no manner of need to come to
Mr. W. as a beggar for these things, which he had so plen
tifully given me, and all the world that would accept
them, years before.

SECT. VIII.
Showing how Mr. W. often begs the question himself.
The question is certainly begged in that argument
which Mr. W. espouses and defends, viz. That the Lord's
supper has a proper tendency to promote men's conver
sion. In the prosecution ofthe argument Mr. W. implicitly
yields, toat it is not the apparent natural tendency alone,
that is of any force to prove the point ; but the appa
rent tendency under this circumstance, that there is no
express prohibition. And thus it is allowed, that in the
case of express prohibition with respect to the scandalous
and morally insincere, no seeming tendency in the nature
of the thing proves the ordinance to be intended for the
conviction and conversion of such. So that it is a thing
supposed in this argument, toat all morally insincere per
sons are expressly forbidden, but unsanctified persons not
so. Now when it is supposed, that morally insincere
Eersons are expressly forbidden, the thing meant cannot
e, that they are forbidden in those very words; for
no such prohibition is to be found : nor are men feat live
in sodomy, bestiality, and witchcraft, any where expressly
forbidden in this sense. But the thing intended must be,
that they are very evidently forbidden, by plain implica
tion, or consequence. But then the whole weight of the
argument lies in this supposition, that unsanctified persons
are not also plainly and evidently forbidden ; which is the
very point in question. And feerefore to make this the
ground of an argument to prove this point, is a manifest
begging the question. And what Mr. W. says to the con
trary, (p. 127. a.) that Mr. Stoddard had proved this
point before, avails notoing : for let it be never so much

Sect. VIII.

MR. W. BEGS THE QUESTION.

517

Go

proved before, yet, after all, to take this very point and
make use of it as a further argument to prove itself, is
certainly begging the question. The notion of bringing a
new argument is bringing additional proof : but to take a
certain point, supposed to be already proved, to prove
itself with over again, certainly does not add any thing to
the evidence.
Mr. W. says, my supposing unconverted persons, as
such, to be as evidently forbidden, as scandalous persons,
is as much begging the question. I answer, So it would
be, if I made that point an argument to prove itself with,
after Mr. W.'s manner. But tois is far from being the
case in fact.
And the question is again most certainly begged, in that
other thing said to support tois argument, viz. That
though the Lord's supper may seem to have a tendency to
convert scandalous sinners, yet there is another ordinance
appointed for that. Here the meaning must be, that there
is another ordinance exclusive of the Lord's supper ; other
wise it is nothing to the purpose. For they do not deny
but that there are other ordinances for toe conversion of sin
ners, who are morally sincere, as well as of those who are
scandalous. But the question is, Whether other ordi
nances are appointed for their conversion exclusive of the
Lord's supper ; or, whether the Lord's supper be one
ordinance appointed for their conversion ? This is the
grand point in question. And to take this point as the
foundation of an argument, to prove this same point, is
plainly begging the question. And it is also giving up the
argument from the tendency, and resting the whole argu
ment on another thing.
Mr. W. again plainly begs the question in his reply,
d. 127. c.d.) That God's prohibition is an argument, that
}od saw there was no such tendency for toeir conversion.
His so saying supposes again, that there is no evident
prohibition of unsanctified persons. In which he again
flies to the very point in question, and rests the weight of
his reasoning upon it.
Just in the same manner Mr. W . begs the question in
espousing and making use of that argument, That all in
external covenant, and neither ignorant nor scandalous, are
commanded to perform all external covenant duties. Here
it is supposed, feat scandalous persons, (which, according
to Mr. W.'s scheme, must include all that have not moral
sincerity,) though in the external covenant, are expressly,
that is, evidently, excepted and forbidden : and that unsanc
tified men are not also evidently forbidden ; which is the
point in question. For if unsanctified men, though in
external covenant, are as evidently forbidden and excepted,
as scandalous men that are in external covenant, then toe
argument touches not one any more than the other. So
that the argument is entirely a castle in the air, resting on
nothing but itself. The grand thing to be proved, first
taken for granted, and then made an argument to prove
itself! In explaining the nature of begging the question, I ob
served, that it is begging the question, or equivalent to it,
whether the point that is taken for granted, and made an
argument of, be the main point in controversy, or some
particular known disputed point between the controverting
parties : I will now illustrate this by an example. It is a
known disputed point .in this controversy, whetoer in the
parable concerning the man without the wedding garment,
the king condemned the man for coming into the church
without grace. Now supposing that I, because I look on
toe matter as very clear, should, besides using it as one
distinct argument, also make it the basis of other argu
ments ;' and should use it in opposition to the strongest
arguments of my opposers, as if it were sufficient to stop
their mouths, without offering any proper solution of those
arguments : as, in case I were pressed with toe argument
from the passover, if I should fly to the man without the
wedding garment ; and should say, It is certain, this argu
ment from the passover can be of no force against the
express word of God in the 22 nd of Matt. For there it is
plain as any fact that ever the sun shone upon, that the
* Thus that very eminent divine, and successful minister of Christ, the
late Dr. Doddridge, in his Sermons on Regeneration, speaking of tho means
of regeneration (p. 251. e. 252. a.) says, " I do not mention the administra
tion of sacraments, upon this occasion ; because, though they have so
noble and effectual a tendency to improve men's minds in piety, and to

king condemns the man for coming into the church with
out a wedding garment ; and it is plain as the sun at noon
day, that the wedding garment is grace. — And if when the
argument from Judas's partaking of the Lord's supper is
alleged, I should again fly to the man without a wedding
garment, and say, whatever reasons Christ might have for
admitting Judas, yet it is plainly revealed, in Matt. xxii.
12. that God does not approve of men coming into the
church without a wedding garment. This would be a
beggarly impertinent way of disputing, thus to answer one
argument by throwing another in the way, which is con
tested, and the validity of which is denied.. It is fair, that
I should have liberty to use toe argument concerning the
wedding garment, in its place, and make the most of it :
but to use it as the support of other arguments, is to
produce no additional proof. And thus, from time to
time, to produce the disputed hypothesis of one argument,
for answer to the arguments of my antagonist, instead of
solving those arguments, is flying and hiding from argu
ments, instead of answering them : instead of defending
the fortress which is attacked, it is dodging and flying
from one refuge to another.
Mr. W. acts this part from time to time, in the use he
makes of his great argument from the Old-Testament
church and its ordinances. Thus (in p. 8.) he takes this
method to answer my argument from the nature of visi
bility and profession, insisting that the Israelites avouch
ing and covenanting was a thing compatible with ungodli
ness; which he knows is a disputed point in this contro
versy, and what I deny. — Again, he makes use of the
same thing, in answer to my argument from the nature of
covenanting with God. (p. 23, 24.) And again he brings
it in, (p. 25. e. 26. a.) answering what I say, by confidently
asserting that concerning the church of Israel, which he
knows is disputed, and I deny ; viz. That the covenant
ing of Israel did not imply a profession that they did
already believe and repent : as in these words, " This was
never intended nor understood, in the profession which the
Israelites made; but that they would immediately and
from thenceforth comply with the terms of the covenant ;
and by the help of God, offered in it, would fulfil it. / am
sure, this was what they professed ; and I am. sure, God
declared he took them into covenant with him." And the
same thing is brought in again to answer the same argu
ment, (p. 31. c.) — The same thing is thrown in, once and
again, as an answer to what I say of the unreasonableness
of accepting such professions as leave room to judge the
greater part of the professors to be enemies of God. (p. 34.
5. c.) The same thing is cast in as a sufficient block in the
way of my arguing from the unreasonableness of accepting
such professions, as amount to nothing more than luke
warmness. (p. 36. d. e.) The same is brought in, and
greatly insisted on, to stop my mouth, in arguing from the
Epistles, (p. 56, 57.) The same is brought in again, to
enervate my argument concerning brotherly love. (p. 69. _.)
And this is made use of as the support of other arguments ;
as that from the name disciples, and about the church being
the school of Christ ; and to confute what I say, in answer
to that argument, (p. 84. a.) The same is brought in as a
support of the eleventh objection, and a confutation of my
answer to that. (p. 125. c. d. e.) And again, in reply, to
what I say in answer to the nineteenth objection, (p. i37.
.. c.)
Another thing, near akin to begging the question, is rest
ing the weight of arguments on things asserted without
proof; which, though they do not properly make a part of
the controversy, yet are things not allowed by those on the
other side. — Thus does Mr. W. in his arguing from the
success of the Lord's supper in the conversion of sinners.
(p. 137, 138.) Supposing, not only that the Lord's supper
has been the occasion of the conversion of many, but that
their communicating was the means of it. This he offers
nothing to prove, and it is not allowed by those on the
other side.* And it is what would be very hard to prove :
if many were converted at the Lord's table, (which yet is
not evident,) it would not prove, that their partaking was
promote christian edification ; yet I do not remember to have heard of
any instance, in which they have been the means of men's conversion ;.
which is the less to be wondered at, as they are appointed for a very
different end."

518

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

the means of their conversion ; it might be only what they
saw and heard there, which others may see and hear, that
do not partake.

SECT. IX.
Mr. W.'s inconsistence with himself, in what he says in an
swer to my third and fourth arguments, and in his reply
to my arguments from the Acts, and the Epistles.
The last thing observed in Mr. W.'s way of disputing,
is his alleging and insisting on things wherein he is incon
sistent with himself. His inconsistencies are of many sorts.
Sometimes he alleges those things that are inconsistent
with the doctrine of those whose principles he pretends to
maintain. — He abundantly urges those things against my
scheme, which are in like manner against his own. He
often argues against those things which he allows, and
strenuously insists on. He denies what he affirms, and
affirms what he utterly denies ; laying down and urging
those things which are contrary to what he says in other
books ; and sometimes contrary to what he says in the
same book. Yielding up the thing wherein the argument
lies, yet strenuously maintaining the argument. — Allow
ing both premises and consequence, yet finding fault, and
opposing. Sometimes he urges things which are contrary
to what he says under different arguments ; and sometimes
contrary to what he says under the same argument. Some
times he contradicts himself in the plain sense and mean
ing of what he says ; at other times even in plain terms.
Sometimes in effect contradicting himself in the same
breath, and in the same sentence.
These various kinds of inconsistence have many of them
been already observed. And will further appear by a par
ticular consideration of what he says on several heads, in
what remains.
In my third argument, I insisted, that it could not be
much to God's honour, for men to profess the assent of
their judgment to the true religion, without pretending to
any real friendship or love to God in their hearts. Mr. W.
in opposition, (p. 34. _. e.) speaks of it as an honour to
God, that secret hypocrites openly declare their conviction
of the truth of God's word, &c. as ire the multitude of sub
jects is the king's honour. And yet he himself represents
the matter quite otherwise in his sermons on Christ a King
and Witness ; there (p. 87. a.) he has these words, " to
promote the kingdom of Christ, is not to do that which
may prevail with men to make pretences that they are
Christians, or that they own Jesus Christ as their Saviour,
and to call him Lord, Lord, when really he is not so."
In answer to my fourth argument (p. 35. _.) Mr. W.
says, I make great misrepresentation of the matter, in in
sinuating that according to Mr. S — d's scheme, (of which
scheme he declares himself to be,) they who are admitted
make a pretence of no moke than moral sincerity, and
common grace. And yet he insists, that when Philip re
quired a profession of the eunuch's faith his question de
signed no more than an assent ofthe understanding, (p. 5 1 .
a. b.) which he there distinguishes from saving faith : and
says, that it is morally certain that his inquiry amounted
to xo more. And yet in his discourse on the same head
(p. 49. c.) he inveighs against me for supposing it a con
sequence of the opinion of my opposers, that fee eunuch,
in order to come to sacraments, had no need to look at
any such qualification in himself as saving faith.  Cer
tainly the eunuch in making answer to Philip's inquiry,
had no need to look at any more than Philip inquired
after. In p. 50. a. he says, " It does hot seem at all pro
bable, that Philip inquired any thing about the re
generation or sanctification of the eunuch." And yet in
tbe next preceding sentence, he refers me over to another
judgment, for representing as though my opposers sup
posed, that it was no matter whether a person coming to
gospel-ordinances had any grace or not, and had no man
ner of need to inquire any thing about his sincerity.
And though he highly blames me for insinuating, as
above, that my opposers require a pretence of no more
than common grace and moral sincerity ; yet in opposition
to my insisting on a profession of saving faith, speaking of

the profession which the apostles required, he says, (p. 58.
c.) " It is certain, that a profession in these words, which
was wont to be required, do sometimes import no more
than a conviction of the understanding on moral evidence."
So he says conceming those whose admission into the
christian church we have an account of in Acts ii. (p. 45.
e.) " There is not one word said about any other paith,
but believing that Jesus was the Messiah." And if so,
then certainly no more was professed.
In p. 35. e. he allows, that all visible saints who are not
truly pious, are hypocrites ; and yet maintains, that the
profession they make is no more than what they may make
and speak honestly and truly, (p. 105. _. and 47. c.)
How then are they all hypocrites, if they are honestly and
truly what they profess to be ?
In supporting the argument from John's baptism, he in
sists, that the profession the people made, did not imply,
that they had savingly repented: and that John openly
supposed, that their profession did not imply it, in what he
said to them. (p. 97. a. b ¦ c.)~ And (p. 98. a. ..) he says,
" We read not a word of John's inquiring whether these
people made a credible profession of true piety." And
he there manifestly suggests, that John knew they were not
pious, as he knew they were a generation qf vipers. Yet
how often elsewhere does Mr. W. insist, that men in order
to come to sacraments must make a credible profession of
true piety and gospel-holiness, and that they must in a
judgment of charity be supposed to have real godliness ?
In answer to my argument from the instance of the con
verts in Actsii. Mr. W. speaking of their convictions, and
being pricked in their hearts, (p. 45. c. d. e.) says, " They
were convinced that Jesus was the true Messiah and Saviour,
whom God had promised to Israel, — whereupon convinced
of their sin, they cry out, What shall we do ? To which the
apostles reply, Repent and be baptized, — ire the name qf the
Lord Jesus Christ for the remission qf sins. — There is not
one word said about any other faith, but believing that
Jesus was the Messiah." — And in the two next pages Mr.
W. insists, that their gladly receiving the word can by no
necessity from the text imply more, than that they now be
lieved that Jesus was the Messiah, and that it was matter
of joy to them that the Messiah was come. — So that we
have this inconsistent account of the matter from Mr. W.
that these people are first convinced that Jesus is the Mes
siah, and this is cause of distress to them : and they
ask, what they shall do ? Hereupon the apostles direct
them to believe that Jesus is the Messiah ; which they be
lieved already, before they asked the question : but how
ever, when they heard this, they believed that Jesus was
the Messiah. They now found it out, as a new thing they
did not know of before, and are glad at the joyful dis
covery ; though just before they believed the same thing,
and fee discovery filled them with distress.
In p. 47. . . whereas it is said concerning these new
converts, — " That such were added to the church, as were
the saved," — Mr. W. says, the like appellation is given to
the whole church of Israel. And in this and the fore
going page, he insists, that these converts were before in
the church of Israel, and were not now admitted, but only
continued as some of God's people. But if these things
were so, they were the saved before their conversion to
Christianity, as much as after ; and others that were in
the Jewish church, that were not yet converted to Chris
tianity, were as much the saved as they. And then why
is their being saved spoken of as what was now brought to
pass, and as a thing that distinguished the believing Jews
from others ?
In the same page, c. Mr. W. says, " we do not dispute
but that the apostles supposed and believed in cbarity, so
far as they had any thing to do to suppose or believe any
thing about it, that God had given these persons saving
repentance, and a heart-purifying faith." And yet in p.
61. he speaks of the apostles as supposing the contrary
of many of those that had been admitted into the primi
tive church ; in that they speak of them, as such temples
of God as might be destroyed : " which (savs Mr. W.)
cannot be true of sanctified ' persons, unless they can fall
from grace."
In his answer to the argument from Philip and the
eunuch he supposes, that believing with all the heart is

Sect. IX.

MR. W. INCONSISTENT WITH HIMSELF.

519

only such a belief of the doctrine of Christianity as un
sanctified men may have. And yet in that forementioned
place, (Christ a King and Witness, p. 144.) he says, a man
before he is renewed by the Holy Ghost, has a view of
the truth as a doubtful uncertain thing. And in the book
now especially attended to, he in effect owns the thing,
which he earnestly disputes against in reply to this argu
ment. He greatly insists, that the phrase, with all the
heart, does not signify gracious sincerity ; and yet he owns
it does. (p. 51. e. and 52. a. b.) He owns, that accord
ing to toe usual way of speaking among mankind, both in
our days, and also in the times when the Scriptures were
written, " God requires men to give him their hearts, in
tending by it such a sincerity as God will own and ac
cept ; which be sure (says he) is nothing less than a gra
cious sincerity ; which never can be, unless the whole soul
and all its faculties be engaged for God." Then after
wards adds, " But how will this any ways prove, that
when men use the same expressions, it must necessarily be
understood in the same sense ?" And yet in the same
breath, he had observed that God in thus using the
phrase, uses it according to the usual manner of speaking
among mankind. He gives this reason, why the phrase
need not be understood in the same sense when used by
men, that men are not searchers of hearts. But the argu
ment is about the phrase as Philip put it to the eunuch's
own conscience, which was or ought to be a searcher of
his heart.
And by the way I must observe, that Mr. W. would
have done well, if he was able, to have reconciled these
repugnant things, taken notice of in my book ; " That with
the heart man believeth to righteousness," and that if men
believe with the heart that God raised Christ from the
dead, they shall be saved ; agreeable to Rom. x. 9, 10. And
yet that men may believe this with their heart, yea, and
with all their heart, and still not believe to righteousness,
nor ever be saved. So likewise that " whoever shall con
fess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him,
and he in God ;" as in 1 John iv. 15. And that " who
soever believeth that Jesus is the Christ, is born of God,"
1 John v. 1. And yet, that a man may believe this
very thing " with all his heart, and confess it with his
mouth ;" and this in the language of the same apostles
and primitive ministers ; and still not be born qf God, nor
have a spark of grace in him.
It may also be worthy to be considered, whether it be
reasonable to suppose, that the faith which a man must
profess, in order to being in the visible kingdom of Christ,
and not in the visible kingdom of the devil, must not be
some other sort of faith than that which the devil has :
that seeing the very design of a public profession of reli
gion is to declare on wbich side we are, whether on Christ's,
or on the devil's, no other faith is required to be pro
fessed, than such as Satan himself has, and such as is not
at all inconsistent with being a willing, cursed servant and
slave of the devil, and enemy to Christ; as Mr. W. says
all unsanctified men are.
Mr. W. in his reply to my argument from the epistles,
(p. 55.) speaks of it as an unaccountable thing, that I
should represent as if according to the principles of my
opposites, the primitive Christians were not admitted un
der any such notion of their being really godly persons,
or with any respect to such a character :* and yet in his
discourse on the same head, he abundantly insists, that it
was not real holiness, but only federal holiness, which
was the qualification to which the apostles had respect in
admitting them ; expressly, from time to time, distin
guishing federal holiness from real. In p. 56. e. and 57.
a. " It makes it evident (says he) that tois manner of
treating churches and bodies of men, and such expressions
used to them and of them, are to be understood in no
other sense, than to signify federal holiness."— So in
p. 60. he affirms the same thing, once and again, distin
guishing federal holiness from real. He says, they formed
no positive judgment of their real piety. — And knew
nothing at all about them, but only that they were fede
rally holy. And again, "They did not make a positive
judgment, that these persons were really godly ; and
* So in p. 132. c. he exclaims against me thus; " After all tbis, to re
peat it again and again, that these persons have no visibility to reason

the high characters they gave them, and the hopes toey
expressed concerning them, could be understood in no
other sense than as holding forth a federal holiness." —
So that by this, they expressed no hopes concerning any
thing more than their federal holiness, as distinguished
from real. And he argues earnestly, through the two next
pages, that they could not be looked upon, many of them,
as having real holiness. How does this consist with their
being treated as visible saints ; under the notion of their
having real holiness, and from respect to such a character
appearing on them ? or with none being visible saints, but
such as have a credible visibility of gospel-holiness?
So in p. 63. b. he speaks of the gross scandals of many
of those to whom the apostles wrote, as an absolute proof,
that they considered them only as federally holy ; which
he in the same place distinguishes from real holiness.
Then how were they treated (as be insists) as those feat
had the character of real piety appearing on them, and
as making a credible profession of gospel-holiness, and
real Christianity ? Which, he abundantly allows, all must
make in order to being visible saints. See also p. 64. e.
In p. 58. Mr. W. insists, that it does not appear,
that those who were admitted into the primitive church,
made a declaration that they had saving faith, but only
that they engaged to that faith. — But how does this con
sist with what he abundantly says elsewhere, that they
must pretend to real piety, make a profession of gospel-
holiness, exhibit moral evidence, that they have such holi
ness, &c? These things are something else besides en
gaging to saving faith and gospel-holiness./br the future.

SECT. X.
The unreasonableness and inconsistence of Mr. W.'s an
swer to my argument from the man without a wedding
garment, and concerning brotherly love, and from 1 Cor.
xi. 28. and qf what he says in support of the \5th ob
jection. Mr. W. in answering my argument from Matt. xxii.
11. allows that the king's house, into which the guest
came, is the visible church, (p. 43. c. and 44. d.) So
that the man's coming in hither, is his coming into the
visible church. Nor does he at all dispute but that by
the wedding garment is meant saving grace ; (for truly the
thing is too evident to be disputed ;) and yet he says, (p.
43. 6. c.) " We read nothing of Christ condemning the
man for coming into the church without saving grace."
So that Mr. W.'s answer amounts plainly to this ; the
king, when he comes to judgment, will say, I do not at
all condemn thee for coming in hither without a wedding
garment; but friend, how earnest thou in hither without
a wedding garment ? And no wonder ; the case is too
plain to allow of any other than such a lamentable refuge as
this is. — If the wedding garment be saving grace, which is
not denied ; and if coming into the king's house he coming
into the visible church, as Mr. W. owns ; then if the king
condemns the man for coming into the house without a
wedding garment, he condemns him for coming into the
visible church without saving grace.
It is plain, the thing the man is blamed for, is some
thing else than simply a being without grace, or without a
wedding garment. The king s words have respect to this
as it stands in connexion with coming into the king's house.
If Christ has commanded men who are not converted, to
come into the church, that they may be converted, he will
never say to them, upon their obeying this command,
Friend, how earnest thou in hither before thou wast con
verted ? Which would be another thing than blaming him
simply for not being converted. If a man, at his own cost,
sets up a school, in order to teach ignorant children to
read ; and accordingly ignorant children should go thither
in order to learn to read, would he come into the school,
and say in anger to an ignorant child that he found there,
How earnest thou in hither, before thou hadst learnt to read?
Did the apostle Paul ever rebuke the heathen, who came
to hear him preach the gospel, saying, How cameyou hither
of beal saintship, — c. I think, gives better ground to retort Mr. Edwards's
words "

520

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

to hear me preach, not having grace ? This would have been
unreasonable, because preaching is an ordinance appointed
to that end, that men might obtain grace. And so, in Mr.
W.'s scheme, is the Lord's supper. — Can we suppose,
that Christ will say to men in indignation, at the day of
judgment, How came you topresumeto use the means lap-
pointed for your conversion, before you were converted !
It is true, the servants were to invite all, both bad and
food, to come to toe feast, and to compel them to come in :
ut this does not prove, that bad men, remaining in their
badness, have a lawful right to come. The servants were
to invite the vicious, as well as the moral ; they were to
invite the heathen, who were especially meant by them
that were in the highways and hedges : yet it will not fol
low, that the heathen, while remaining heathen, have a
lawful right to come to christian sacraments. But heathen
men must turn from their heathenism, and come : so like
wise wicked men must turn from their wickedness, and
come. I endeavoured to prove, that that brotherly love, which
is required towards the members of the christian church in
general, is such a love as is required to those only whom
we have reason to look upon as true saints. Mr. W. dis
putes, through two pages, (p. 66, 67.) against the force of
my reasoning to prove this point ; and yet when he has
done, he allows the point. He allows it (p. 68. d, e.) as
an undisputed thins;, that it is the image of God and Christ
appearing or supposed to be in others, that is the ground
and reason of this love. And so again (p. 71. _. e.) he
grants, that there must be some apprehension, and judg
ment of the mind, of the saintship of persons, in order to
this brotherly love. Indeed he pretends to differ from me
in this, that he denies the need of any positive judgment :
but doubtless the judgment or apprehension of the mind
must be as positive as the love founded on that apprehen
sion and judgment of the mind.
In p. 78, 79. he seems to insist, that what the apostle
calls unworthy communicating, is eating in a greedy, dis
orderly, and irreverent manner : as though men might
communicate without grace, and yet not communicate un
worthily, in the apostle's sense. But if so, the apostle
differed much in his sense of things from Mr. W. — The
latter says, in his sermon on Christ a King and Witness,
(p. 77, 78.) " These outward acts of worship, when not
performed from faith in Christ, and love to God, are
mocking God — in their own nature a lie — the vilest wick
edness ; — instead of being that religion, which Christ re
quires, it is infinitely contrary to it — the most flagrant and
abominable impiety, and threatened with the severest dam
nation." Is not this a communicating unworthily enough
of all reason?
In p. 132, 133. Mr. W. strenuously opposes me in my
supposition, that the way of freely allowing all that have
only moral sincerity to come into the church, tends to the
reproach and ruin of the church. On the contrary, he
seems to suppose it tends to the establishing and building
up ofthe church. But I desire that what Mr. Stoddard
says, in his sermon on the danger qf speedy degeneracy,
may be considered under this head. He there largely in
sists, that the prevailing of unconverted men and unholy
professors among a people, is the principal thing that brings
them into danger of speedy degeneracy and corruption. He
says, that where this is the case, there will be many bad
examples, that will corrupt others; and that unconverted
men will indulge their children in evil, will be negligent in
toeir education ; and that by this means their children will
be very corrupt and ungoverned ;* that by this means the
godly themselves that are among them, will be tainted, as
sweet liquor put into a corrupt vessel will be tainted ; that
thus a people will grow blind, will not much regard the
warnings of the word, or the judgments of God ; and that
they will grow weary of religious duties after awhile ; and
that many of their leading men will be carnal ; and that
this will expose a people to have carnal ministers and other
leading men in the town and church.
And I desire also, that here may be considered what
* If we have reason to expect it will be thus with ungodly parents, with
respect to their children, then, certainly such cannot reasonably expect
ministers and churches should admit — ieir children to baptism, in a depend
ence that they do give them up to God, and will bring them up iu the nur-

Mr. W. himself says, in that passage forecited, (p. 86, 87.)
of his sermons on Christ a King and Witness ; where, in
explaining what it is to promote the kingdom of Christ, he
says negatively, "That it is not to do that which may pre
vail on men to make^retereces, that they are Christians, and
that they own Jesus Christ as their Saviour, and to call
him Lord, Lord, when really he is not so." Which he
supposes is the case with all unsanctified professors ; for
in the same book, he abundantly declares, that they who
make such pretences, and have not true faith and love,
make false and lying pretences; as has been several times
observed.

SECT. XI.
The impertinence of arguments, that are in like manner
against the schemes of both the controverting parties :
And this exemplified in what Mr. W. says concerning the
notion of Israel being the people qf God, and his manner
of arguing concerning the member's qf the primitive chris
tian church.
Inasmuch as in each of the remaining instances of Mr.
W.'s arguing, that I shall take notice of, he insists upon
and urges arguments which are in like manner against his
own scheme, as against mine, I desire, that such a way of
arguing may be a little particularly considered.
And here I would lay down this as a maxim of undoubt
ed verity ; That an argument, brought to support one scheme
against another, can avail nothing to the purpose it is
brought for, if it is at the same time against the scheme it
would support, ire like manner as against that which it
would destroy.
It is an old and approved maxim, That argument which
proves too much, proves nothing, i. e. If it proves too much
for him that brings it — proves against himself in like man
ner as against his opponent — then it is nothing to help his
cause.— The reason of it is plain : the business of a dis
pute is to make one cause good against another, to make one
scale heavier than the other. But when a man uses an
argument which takes alike out of both scales, this does not
at all serve to make his side preponderate, but leaves the
balance just as it was.
Arguments brought by any man in a dispute, if they be
not altogether impertinent, are against the difference be
tween him and his opponent, or against his opponent's
differing from him : for wherein there is no difference, there
is no dispute. — But that can be no argument against his
opponent differing from him, which is only an argument
against what is common to both, and taken from some dif
ficulty that both sides equally share in. If 1 charge sup
posed absurdities or difficulties against him that differs
from me, as an argument to show the unreasonableness
of his differing ; and yet the difficulty is not owing to his
differing from me, inasmuch as the same would lie
against him, if he agreed with me, my conduct herein is
both very impertinent and injurious.
If one in a dispute insists on an argument, that lies
equally against his own scheme as the other, and yet will
stand to it that his argument is good,he in effect stands to
that his own scheme is not good; he supplants himself,
and gives up his own cause, in opposing his adversary ; in
holding fast his argument, he holds fast what is his own
overthrow ; and in insisting that his argument is solid and
strong, he in effect insists feat his own scheme isweaftand
vain. If my antagonist will insist upon it, that his argu
ment is good, that he brings against me, which is in like
manner against himself; then I may take the same argu
ment, in my turn, and use it against him, and he can have
nothing to answer ; but has stopped his own mouth, hav
ing owned the argument to be conclusive. — Now such sort
of arguments as these Mr. W. abundantly uses.
For instance, the argument taken from the whole nation
of Israel being called God's people, and every thing that
Mr. W. alleges, pertaining to this matter, is in like manner
ture and admonition of the Lord, if they make no profession that implies
more than moral sincerity ; and none but what wicked men may as well
make as the godly, and speak true.

Sect. XI.

" ARGUMENTS HOSTILE TO BOTH SIDES.

521

against his own scheme as against mine : and that, let the
question be what it will ; whether it be about the qualifi
cations which make it lawful for fee church to admit, or
about the lawfulness of persons coming to sacraments ;
whether it be about the profession they should make before
men, or the internal qualification they must have in the sight
qf God. And what Mr! W. says to the contrary, does not
at all deliver the argument from this embarrassment and
absurdity. After all he has said, the argument, if any
thing related to the controversy, is plainly this, That be
cause the whole nation of Israel were God's visible people,
(which is the same as visible saints,) therefore the scrip
ture notion of visible saintship is of larger extent than mine;
and the Scripture supposes those to be visible saints, which
my scheme does not suppose to be so.
But if this be Mr. W.'s argument, then let us see whether
it agrees any better with his own scheme. Mr. Blake (Mr.
W.'s great author) in his book on the Covenant, (p. 190. . .)
insists, that Israel at the very worst is owned as God's
covenant people, and were called God's people ; and (p.
149. e.) that all the congregation of Israel, and every one
of them, are called holy, and God's own people, even
Korah and his company.— And (p. 253. e. 254. a.) he
urges, that every one who is descended from Jacob, even
the worst of Israel, in their lowest state and condition,
were God's people in covenant, called by the name of
God's people. And Mr. W. herein follows Mr. Blake,
and urges the same thing ; that this nation was God's cove
nant people, and were called God's people, at the time
that they were carried captive into Babylon, (p. 24. d.)
when they were undoubtedly at their worst, more corrupt
than at any other time we read of in the Old Testament ;
being represented by the prophets, as overrun with abomi
nable idolatries, and other kinds of the most gross, heaven-
daring impieties, most obstinate, abandoned, pertinacious,
and irreclaimable in their rebellion against God, and
against his word by his prophets. But yet these, it is
urged, are called the people of God; not agreeable to my
notion of visible saintship, but agreeable to Mr. W.'s.
What his notion of visible saints is, he tells us in p. 139.
He there says expressly, that he " does not suppose per
sons to be visible saints, unless they exhibit a credible
profession and visibility of gospel-holiness." Now do those
things said about those vile wretches in Israel, agree with
this? Did they exhibit moral evidence of gospel-holiness?
— But if we bring the matter lower still, and say, the true
notion of visible saintship is a credible appearance and
moral evidence of moral sincerity ; does this flagrant, open,
abandoned, obstinate impiety consist with moral evidence
of such sincerity as that ? It is as apparent therefore, in
Mr. W.'s scheme as mine, that when these are called
God's people, it is in some other sense than that wherein
the members of the christian church are called visible
saints. And indeed the body of the nation of Israel, in
those corrupt times, were so far from being God's church
of visibly pious persons, visibly endowed with gospel-holi
ness, that that people, as to the body of them, were visibly
and openly declared by God, to be a whore and a witch,
and her children bastards, or children of adultery. Isa.
lvii. 3. " Draw near hither, ye sons of the sorceress, the
seed of the adulterer and the whore." We have the like
in other places. And so the body of the same people in
Christ's time — which Mr. W. supposes even then to be
branches of the true olive, in the same manner as the mem
bers of the christian church were in the apostles' times —
are visibly declared not to be God's children, or children of
the true church, but bastards, or an adulterous brood.
Matt. xii. 39. " An evil and adulterous generation seek-
eth after a sign." Ver. 45. " Even so shall it be with this
wicked generation." And certainly the people were then,
visibly and in toe eyes of men, such as Christ had visibly
and openly, and in the sight of men, declared them to be.
If the question be not concerning the visibility which
makes it lawful for others to admit persons, but concerning
the qualifications which render it lawful for them to come,
still the objection is no more against my scheme than
against Mr. W.'s. He (in p. 84 — 86.) says, that such
openly scandalous persons ought not to be admitted into
the church ; insinuating, that these scandalous people
among the Jews were othenvise when they were admitted

at first : but that being taken in, and not cast out again, it
was lawful for them to be there, and they had a lawful right
to the privileges of the church. But this supposition, that
all who are lawfully admitted by others, may lawfully come
into the church, and lawfully continue to partake of its
privileges till cast out, is utterly inconsistent with Mr.
W.'s own scheme. For according to his scheme, it is not
lawful for men that are not morally sincere, to partake of the
privileges of the church ; but yet such may in some cases be
iawfully admitted by others; for he maintains, that in ad
mitting them, they are not to act as searchers qf hearts, even
with regard to their moral sincerity ; and so argues, (p. 106.)
that Christ might give Judas the sacramentj- when not
morally sincere. If Christ as head of the visible church
might admit Judas to his table, when he knew he was not
morally sincere, and when it was not lawful for Judas him
self to come; then it is lawful for men to admit some, for
whom it is not lawful to be there ; contrary to Mr. W.'s
assertion in p. 86. b.
It is true, that persons may become grossly scandalous,
after having been regularly admitted on Mr. W.'s prin
ciples, on a profession in words of indiscriminate significa
tion. And so they may after being regularly admitted,
according to my principles, on a credible profession of gos
pel-holiness in words of a determinate meaning : and there
fore the gross wickedness of such apostates as we read of
in Scripture, is no more an objection against my principles,
than his.
Just in the same manner is Mr. W.'s arguing (p. 59 — 63.)
concerning the members of churches mentioned in the
epistles, equally against his own scheme and mine. He
largely insists on it, that the apostle speaks of many of
them as grossly scandalous, notoriously wicked persons,
idolaters, heretics, fornicators, adulterers, adulteresses, &c.
&c. In his arguing from these things, he is inconsistent
with his own principles, two ways. (1.) Such a character
is as plainly inconsistent with the character he insists on as
necessary to render it lawful for persons themselves to come
to sacraments, as mine. And, (2.) It is utterly inconsist
ent with what he often declares to be his notion of visible
saintship, necessary to a being admitted by others ; so no
more an argument against my opinion of visible saintship,
than his own.

SECT. XII.
The great argument from the Jewish sacraments, of -the
Passover, and Circumcision, considered.
As has been observed concerning the argument from the
Jewish nation, so the argument from the Jewish ordinances,
if it be against my scheme, is as plainly, in every respect,
against Mr. W.'s. — This grand argument, as plainly ex
pressed, or implied, in Mr. Stoddard's words (which Mr.
W. insists I should attend to,) is this :
God did expressly command all the nation of Israel to
be circumcised; and he also expressly commanded the
whole nation to come to the passover ; excepting such as
were ceremoniously unclean, or on a journey. Therefore
it was lawful for unsanctified men to come. (See Mr.
S.'s sermon on the controv. p. 8. and Appeal, p. 51.) The
want of sanctification never was alleged by any man as a
reason for forbearing toe passover. (Appeal, p. 51.) Un
sanctified persons attending this ordinance is never charged
on toem as a sin in Scripture. (Ibid.) Jesus Christ himself
partook ofthe passover with Judas ; which proves it to be
lawful for unsanctified men to come to the passover. But
such as might lawfully come to the passover, may lawfully
come to the Lord's supper.
Now let us consider what are the qualifications, which
are necessary, according to Mr. W.'s scheme, to a lawful
coming to christian sacraments ; and then see whether this
objection, in every part of it, and every thing that belongs
to it, be not as plainly and directly against his own scheme,
as mine.
According to Mr. W. it is not lawful for a man to come
unless he is morally sincere. (Pref. p. 2 and 3. p. 21. ..
25. „. e. 30. _. 35. e. 36. a. 111. b. c. 115. b.) And, ac
cording as he has explained that moral sincerity, which is

522

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

necessary in order to come to sacraments, it implies " a
real conviction of the judgment and conscience of the truth
of toe great things of religion, a deep conviction of a
man's undone state without Christ, and an earnest concern
to obtain salvation by him, — a fervent desire of Christ and
the benefits of the covenant of grace, with an earnest
purpose and resolution to seek salvation on the terms of
it ; — a man's being willing to do the utmost that he can,
by the utmost improvement of his natural and moral
power, in the most earnest and diligent use of the ordi
nances of salvation ; — being resolved for Christ, coming to
a point, being engaged for heaven; — having a settled
determination of the judgment and affections for God ; —
giving up all his heart and life to Christ," &c. &c* Such
moral sincerity as this is necessary, according to Mr. W.
to be found in professing Christians, in order to their law
ful coming to christian sacraments. And he says, they are
received into the church, on like terms, by entering into
covenant in like manner, as toe Jews ; and that their holi
ness, both real and federal, is the same with theirs, (p.
56, 57. p. 61. e. p. 65. c.) So that according to this
scheme, none but those that had such qualifications as
these, such a sincerity and engagedness in religion as this,
might lawfully come to toe passover. — But now, do the
things alleged agree any better wito this scheme, than
with mine ? If the case be so, to what purpose is it alleged,
that God, in Numb. ix. expressly commanded all of that
perverse, rebellious, and obstinate generation in the wilder
ness, and the whole nation of Israel in all generations, to
keep the passover, excepting such as were ceremonially
unclean or on a journey, without the exception of any
other ? Was every one else of such a character as is above
described ? Was every one under deep convictions, and
persons of such earnest engagedness in religion, of such
settled strong resolution to give up their utmost strength
and all their heart and life to God, &c. ? Mr. W. suggests,
that those who had not moral sincerity are expressly ex
cepted from the command, (p. 93. _.) But I wish he had
mentioned the place of Scripture. He cites Mr. Stoddard,
who says, God appointed sacrifice to be offered for scandal,
with confession. But where did God appoint sacrifice, for
the want of such sincerity, for the want of such deep con
viction, earnest desire, and fixed resolution, as Mr. W.
speaks of? And where are such as are without these
things, expressly excepted from the command to keep the
passover ? Besides, there were many scandalous sins, for
which no sacrifice was appointed : as David's murder and
adultery, and the sin of idolatry — which the nation in
general often fell into — and many other gross sins. Nor
was there any precept for deferring the keeping of the
passover, in case of scandalous wickedness, or moral un-
cleanness, till there should be opportunity for cleansing by
sacrifice, &c. as was in the case of ceremonial uncleanness.
Mr. S. says, The want of sanctification was never
alleged by any man as a reason for forbearing the passover.
Where do we read in any part of the Bible, that the want
of such deep conviction, &c. as Mr. W. speaks of, or in
deed any scandalous moral uncleanness, was ever alleged
by any man, as a reason for forbearing to eat the passover?
— Mr. S. urges, that unsanctified persons attending the
passover was never charged on them as a sin. And where
do we read of persons coming without such morul sincerity
being any more charged on them as a sin, toan the other ?
We have reason to think, it was a common thing for parents
that had no such moral sincerity, yea, that were grossly
and openly wicked, to have their children circumcised ; for
the body of the people were often so : but where is this
charged as a sin? Mr. S. says, (Serm. p. 7.) Ishmael was
circumcised, but yet a carnal person. And there is as
much reason to say, he was not of the character Mr. W.
insists on, under deep convictions, having earnest desires
of grace, a full and fixed determination, with all his
beart, to the utmost of his power, to give his whole life to
God, &c. — Mr. S. says, (Serm. p. 8.) Hezekiah sent to invite
the people of Ephraim and Manasseh, and other tribes, to
celebrate the passover, though they had lived in idolatry
for some ages. But if so, this was as much of an evidence,
that they were not of such _ character as Mr. W. insists
* P. 10. d. 11 c, d. 30. e. 31. a. e. 35. e. 36. a. 53. b. 83. d. 125. .. and many

Part III.
-Mr. W.

on, as that they were without sanctifying grace. — Mr. W.
says, (p. 91. c.) The Israelites had carefully attended the
seal of circumcision, from the time of its institution, till
the departure out of Egypt. But surely most of them at
the same time were without Mr. W.'s moral sincerity ; for
it is abundantly manifest, toat the body of the people fell
away to idolatry in Egypt. (See Levit. xvii. 7. Josh. xxiv.
14. Ezek. xx. 8. and xxiii. 3, 8, 27.) And there is not the
least appearance of any more exception, either in the
precepts or history of the Old Testament, of the case of
moral insincerity, in such as attended these ordinances,
than of ungodliness, or an unsanctified state.
Mr. S. urges, that Jesus Christ himself partook of the
passover with Judas ; and thence he would argue, that it
was lawful for an unregenerate person to partake of the
Lord's supper. But there can be no argument, in any
sort, drawn from tois, to prove that it is lawful for men to
partake of the Lord's supper without sanctifying grace,
any more than that it is lawful for them to partake without
moral sincerity : for it is every whit as evident, that Judas
was at that time without moral sincerity, as that he was
unregenerate. We have no greater evidence, in all the
scripture history, of the moral insincerity of any one man,
than of Judas, at the time when he partook of the pass-
over with Christ ; he having just then bargained with the
high priest to betray him, and being then in prosecution of
toe borrid design of the murder of the Son of God.
If any thing contrary to my principles could be argued
from all Israel being required, throughout their genera
tions, to come to the passover and circumcision, it would be
this ; toat all persons, of all sorts, throughout all Christen
dom, might lawfully come to baptism and the Lord's
Supper; godly and ungodly, the knowing and the ignorant,
the moral and fee vicious, orthodox and heretical, protest
ants and papists alike. But this does not agree with Mr.
W.'s principles, any better than with mine.

SECT. XIII.
Concerning Judas's partaking qf the Lord's supper.
I think, we have a remarkable instance of tergiversa
tion, in what Mr. W. says in support of the argument
from Judas's partaking of the Lord's supper. By those
on his side of the question, it is insisted upon, as a clear
evidence of its being lawful for unsanctified men to come
to toe Lord's table, that Christ gave toe Lord's supper to
Judas, when he knew he was unsanctified. In answer to
which I showed, that this is just as much against their own
principles, as mine ; because Christ knew as perfectly that
be was not morally sincere, as that he was not graciously
sincere ; and they toemselves hold, that it is not lawful for
such as are not morally sincere, to partake. Mr. W. ridi
cules this, as very impertinent and strange ; because Christ
did not know this as head of the visible church, but only
as omniscient God and searcher of hearts. And what does
this argue ? Only, that although Judas was really not fit
to come, yet, inasmuch as Christ, acting as king of the
visible church, did not know it, he might admit him : but
not, that it was lawful for Judas himself to come, who
knew his own heart in this matter, and knew his own per-
fidiousness and treachery ; Mr. W. denies, that it is lawful
for such to come, as have no moral sincerity. So that
here the question is changed; from, who may lawfully
come, to who may lawfully be admitted? Mr. W. abun
dantly insists, that the question is not, who shall be ad
mit led ? but, who may lawfully come ? Not, whether it be
lawful to admit those who have not a visibility of saint
ship, or do not appear to be true saints? but whether
toose who are not true saints, may lawfully partake ? And
this he insists upon in his discourse on this very argument,
(p. 104, .. _.) And to prove this latter point, viz. That
those who are not real saints, may lawfully come, the in
stance of Judas's coming to fee Lord's supper is produced
as an undeniable evidence. But when it is answered, that
toe argument does not prove this, any more than that the
morally insincere may lawfully come ; because Judas was
other places.

Sect. XIV.

OF PERSONS BEING BORN IN COVENANT.

523

morally insincere : then Mr. W. (p. 106.) to shelter him
self, evidently changes the question, at once, to toat which
he had so much exclaimed against as not the question.
Now, to serve his turn, the question is not, whetoer Judas
might lawfully come ? but, whether Christ might lawfully
admit him, acting on a public visibility ? And he makes
an occasion to cry out against me, as talking strangely,
and soon forgetting that I had said, Christ in this matter
did not act as searcher of hearts. Whereas, let the ques
tion be what it will, toe argument from Judas's partaking,
(should the fact be supposed,) if it proves any thing re
lating to the matter, is perfectly, and in every respect,
against the one, just as it is against the other. If the
question be about profession and visibility to others, and
who others may lawfully admit, then Judas's being ad
mitted, (if he was admitted,) no more proves, that men
may be admitted without a visibility and profession of
godliness, than without a visibility of moral sincerity. For
it no more appears, that he was without a profession and
visibility of the former, than ofthe latter. But if the ques
tion is not about visibility to others, or who others may
admit, but who may lawfully come, then Judas's coming
no more proves, that a man may come without grace, than
without moral necessity ; because he was in like manner
without both : and Christ knew as perfectly, that he was
without the one, as the other ; and was not ignorant of
the one case, as king of the visible church, any more than
ofthe other. So that toere is no way to support this argu
ment, but to hide the question, by shifting and changing
it ; to have one question in the premises, and to slip in
another into the conclusion. Which is according to toe
course Mr. W. takes. In the premises, (p. 104, 105.) he
expressly mentions Mr. S— — d's question, as now in
view : and agreeably must here have this for his question,
whether it was lawful for a man so qualified to come to the
Lord's supper ? W bo,'according to Mr. W.'s own doctrine,
Cp. 111.) ought to act as a discemer of his own heart. But
in his conclusion, (p. 106.) he has this for his question,
whether Christ might lawfully admit a man so qualified,
therein not acting as the searcher of hearts?  What
shuffling is this !

SECT. XIV.
Concerning that great argument, which Mr. W. urges in
various parts of his book, of those being born in the
church, who are children of parents that are in covenant.
It is hard to understand distinctly what Mr. W. would
be at, concerning this matter, or what his argument is.
He often speaks of parents that are in covenant, as bom
in covenant, and so born in toe church. For to be in
covenant, is toe same with him as to be members of the
visible church. (See p. 98. c. 88. _. 89. .. 59. e. 60. a.
136. b.) And he speaks of them as admitted into the
church in their ancestors, and by toe profession of their
ancestors, (p. 135. e. 136. a.) Yea, for ought I can see,
he holds that toey were bom members in complete
standing in the visible church, (p. 3.)
And yet he abundantly speaks of their being admitted
into the" church, and made members, after toey are bom,
viz. by their baptism. And his words (unless we will
suppose him to speak nonsense) are such as will not allow
us to understand him, merely, that baptism is a sign and
public acknowledgment of their having been admitted in
toeir ancestors, in preceding generations. For he speaks
of baptism as toe only rite (or way) of admission into the
visible church, applying it to the baptism of children ;
and as that which makes toem members of the body of
Christ, (p. 99. c. _.) And he grants, that it was ordained
for the admission of the party baptized into the visible
church, (p. 99. e. p. 100. a.) That baptism is an admis
sion; and that they were thus before admitted, (p. 100.
c.) still speaking of the baptism of infants, and of admis
sion of members into churches. — But surely these things
do not harmonize with the doctrine of their first receiving
being in the church— as a branch receives being in the
tree, and grows in it and from it — or their being born in
the covenant, born in the house of God. And yet these re-

Eugnant things are uttered as it were in the same breath
y Mr. W. (p. 99.) And he joins them together in the
same line, (p. 46. e.) in these words, — " Baptism insti
tuted by him, as a rite of admission into his church, and
being continued in covenant with God." — Certainly,
being then admitted into the church, and being continued
in covenant (or in the church) into which they were ad
mitted before, are not the same thing, nor consistent one
wito another. If infants are born members in complete
standing, as it. seems Mr. W. holds, then their baptism
does nothing towards making toem members ; nor is toere
any need of it to make the matter more complete.
Again, (p. 3. b. where he also speaks of infants as mem
bers having a complete standing in toe church,) he main
tains, toat nothing else is requisite in order to communion
and privileges of members in complete standing, but only
that they should be capable hereof, and should desire the
same, and should not be under censure, or scandalously
ignorant or immoral. (See also p. 100. c. d. to the same
purpose.) Mr. W says this in opposition to my insisting
on something further, viz. making a profession of godli
ness. And yet he himself insists on something further, as
much as I; which has been observed before. For he
abundantly insists on a personal, explicit profession and
open declaration of believing toat the gospel is indeed the
revelation of God, and of a hearty consent to toe terms of
the covenant of grace, &c. And speaks of the whole con
troversy as turning upon toat single point, of the degree of
evidence to be given, and the kind of profession to be
made, whether in words of indiscriminate meaning? (See
p. 5. b . c. p. 6. c. d.) And consequently not, whether they
must make any profession at all, having been completely
admitted before, in toe profession of their ancestors ?
Therefore, if the infants of visible believers are bom in
the church, and are already members in complete standing,
and do not drop out of fee church, and fall from a com
plete standing, when they grow up ; and therefore if they
are not ignorant nor immoral, and desire full communion,
nothing else can be required of them : and it will hence
follow, contrary to my principles, that they cannot be re
quired to make a profession in words of discriminate
meaning : but then, it also equally follows, contrary to his
principles, that neither can they be required to make a pro
fession in words of indiscriminate meaning. If nothing
else besides those forementioned things is necessary, then
no profession is necessary, in any words at all, neither of
determinate nor indeterminate signification. So that Mr.
W. in supposing some personal profession to be necessary,
gives up and destroys this grand argument.
But if he did not give it up by this means, it would not
be tenable on other principles belonging to his scheme ;
such as its being necessary in order to a being admitted to
sacraments, that persons should have a visibility that
recommends them to the reasonable judgment and appre
hension of the minds of others, as true Christians, really
pious persons, and that there should be such a profession
as exhibits moral evidence of this. For who will say, that
the individual profession of an ancestor, a thousand or
fifteen hundred years ago, is a credible exhibition and
moral evidence of the real piety of his present posterity,
without any personal explicit profession of any thing about
religion, in any one of the succeeding generations. And if
Mr. W. had not said, there must be a credible exhibition
of gospel-holiness, but only some common faith or virtue ;
yet no such thing is made visible to a rational judgment
and apprehension of mind, by this means. How, for in
stance, does it make orthodoxy visible ? What reasonable
ground is there in it, at such a day as this in England, to
believe concerning any man, that he believes the doctrine
of the Trinity, and all other fundamental doctrines, with
full conviction, and with all his heart, because he descend
ed from an ancestor that made a good profession, when
the ancient Britons or Saxons were converted from hea
thenism, and because withal he is free from open scandal
ous immorality, and appears willing to attend duties of
public worship ? If an attendance on these public duties
was in its own nature a profession of orthodoxy, or even
piety ; yet the reason of mankind teaches them the need
of joining words and actions together in public manifesta
tions of the mind, in cases of importance : speech being

524

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

the great and peculiar talent, which God has given to
mankind, as the special means and instrument of the
manifestation of their minds one to another. Thus, treaties
among men are not concluded and finished, only with
actions, without words. Feasting together was used of old,
as a testimony of peace and covenant friendship ; as be
tween Isaac and Abimelech, Laban and Jacob, but not
without a verbal profession. Giving the hand, delivering
toe ring, &c. are to express a marriage agreement and
union ; but still a profession in words is annexed. So we
allow it to be needful, after persons have fallen into scan
dal, that in manifesting repentance there should be a
verbal profession, besides attending duties of worship.
Earthly princes will not trust a profession of allegiance
in actions only, such as bowing, kneeling, keeping the
king's birth-day, &c. but they require also a profession in
words, and an oath of allegiance is demanded. Yea, it is
thought to be reasonably demanded, in order to men's
coming to toe actual possession and enjoyment of those
privileges they are born heirs to. Thus the eldest sons of
noblemen in Great Britain, are bom heirs to the honours
and estate of their fathers ; yet this no way hinders but
they may be obliged, when they come to ripeness of age,
in order to being invested in the actual possession, to take
the oath of allegiance : though in order to toeir lawfully
doing it, it may be necessary they should believe in their
hearts, that King George is the lawful prince, and that they
should not be enemies to him, and friends to toe Pre
tender. But moreover, if tois objection of Mr. W. about infants
being bom in the church be well considered, it will appear
to be all beside the question, and so nothing to the purpose.
It is not to the purpose of either of the questions, Mr. W.'s
or mine. The question as I have stated it, is concerning
them that may be admitted members in complete stand
ing ; not about them that have a complete standing in
the church already, and so are no candidates for admis
sion ; which, he says, is the case of these infants. And the
question as he often states it is concerning toem that may
lawfully come. And this objection, from infants being born
in the church, as it must be understood from Mr„W. does
not touch this question. For when Mr. W. objects, that
some persons are born in the church, and therefore may law
fully come to sacraments, he cannot be understood to mean,
that their being born in the church alone is sufficient ; but
that, besides this, persons must have some virtue or re
ligion, of one sort or other, in order to their lawful corning.
For he is full in it, that it is not lawful for men to come
without moral virtue and sincerity. Therefore the ques
tion comes to this in toe result : seeing persons, besides
their being born in covenant, must have some sort of vir
tue and religion, in order to a lawful coming to the Lord's
supper, what sort qf virtue and religion that is, whether
common or saving ? Now this question is not touched by
the present objection. Merely persons being born in cove
nant, is no more evidence of their having moral sincerity,
than saving grace. Yea, there is more reason to suppose
the latter, than the former without it, in the infant children
of believing parents. For the Scripture gives us ground
to think, that some infants have toe habit of saving grace,
and toat they have a new nature given them. But no
reason at all to think, that ever God works any mere
moral change in them, or infuses any habits of moral vir
tue without saving grace. — And we know, they cannot
come by moral habits in infancy, any other way toan by
immediate infusion. They cannot obtain them by human
instruction, nor contract them by use and custom. And
especially there is no reason to think, that the children of
such as are visible saints, according to Mr. W's scheme,
have any goodness infused into toem by God, of any kind.
For in his scheme, all toat are morally sincere may law
fully receive the privileges of visible saints ; but we have
no scripture grounds to suppose, that God will bless the
children of such parents as have nothing more than moral
sincerity, with either common or saving grace. There are
no promises of the covenant of grace made to such parents,
either concerning themselves, or their children. The cove
nant of grace is a conditional covenant ; as both sides in
this controversy suppose. And therefore, by the sup
position, men have no title to the promises without

the condition. And as saving faith is the condition,
the promises are all made to that, both those which
respect persons toemselves, and those that respect feeir
seed. As it is with many covenants or bargains among
men ; by these, men are often entitled to possessions for
themselves, and their heirs: yet toey are entitled to no
benefits of the bargain, neither for themselves, nor toeir
children, but by complying with the terms of the bargain.
So with respect to the covenant of grace, the apostle says,
(Acts ii. 39.) " The promise is to you and to your chil
dren." So the apostle says to the jailor, (Acts xvi. 31.)
" Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved, and thy house." And we find many promises, all
over the Bible, made to the righteous, that God will bless
their seed for their sakes. Thus, Psal. cxn. 2. " The
generation of toe upright shall be blessed." Psal. lxix.
35, 36. " For God will save Zion;— The seed also of his
servants shall inherit it ; and they that love his name shall
dwell therein." (See also Prov. xiv. 26. Psal. cii. 28. Psal.
ciii. 17, 18. Exod. xx. 5, 6. Deut. vii. 9.) Supposing these
to be what are called indefinite promises ; yet do they ex
tend to any but the seed qf the righteous ? Where are any
such promises made to the children of unsanctified men,
toe enemies of God, and slaves of the devil, (as Mr. W.
owns all unsanctified men are,) whatever moral sincerity
and common religion they may have ?
The baptism of infants is toe seal of these promises
made to the seed of the righteous : and on these princi
ples, some rational account may be given of infant bap
tism ; but there is no account can be given of it on Mr.
W.'s scheme, no warrant can be found for it in Scripture ;
for they are promises, toat are the warrant for privileges :
but there are no promises of God's word to the seed of
morally sincere men, and only half Christians. Thus this
argument of Mr. W.'s, let us take it which way we will,
has notbing but what is as much, yea, much more, against
his scheme, than against mine.
However, if this were not the case, but all the show or
pretence of strength there is in the argument, lay directly
and only against me, yet the strength of it, if tried, will
avail to prove nothing at all. The pretended argument,
so far as I can find it out, is tois ; The children of visible
saints are born in covenant ; and being already in covenant,
they must have a right to the privileges qf the covenant,
without any more ado : such therefore have a right to come
to the. Lord's supper, whether they are truly godly or not.
But the show of argument there is here, depends on the
ambiguity of the phrase, being in covenant ; which sig
nifies two distinct things : either, (1 .) Being under the ob
ligation and bond ofthe covenant ; or, (2.) Being conformed
to the covenant, and complying with the terms of it. Being
the subject of the obligations and engagements of toe
covenant, is a thing quite distinct from being conformed
to these obligations, and so being the subject of the con
ditions of the covenant.
Now it is not being in covenant in the former, but the
latter sense, that gives a right to toe privileges of the cove
nant. The reason is plain, because compliance and con
formity to the terms of a covenant, is the thing which gives
right to all the benefits ; and not merely being under ties
to that compliance and conformity. Privileges are not an
nexed merely to obligations, but to compliance with obli
gations. Many that do not so much as visibly comply with the
conditions of the covenant, are some of God's covenant
people in that sense, that toey are under the bonds and
engagements of the covenant; so were Korah and his
company ; so were many gross idolaters in Israel, that
lived openly in that sin ; and so may heretics, deists,
and atheists be God's covenant people. They may still
be held under the bonds of toeir covenant engagements
to God ; for their great wickedness and apostacy does not
free toem from the obligation of the solemn promises and
engagements they formerly entered into. But yet being
in covenant merely in this sense, gives them no right to
any privileges of toe covenant. In order to that, they
must be in covenant in another sense ; tbey must cordially
consent to the covenant; which indeed Mr. W. himself
owns, when he acknowledges, toat in order to come to
sacraments, men must profess a cordial consent to, and

Sect. XV.

OF COMING WITHOUT A KNOWN RIGHT.

525

compliance with the conditions of the covenant of grace.*
And if Mr. W. inquires, Why those children that were
bom in the covenant, are not cast out, when in adult age
they make no such profession ; certainly, it as much con
cerns him to answer, as me ; for it is as much his doctrine,
as mine, that they must profess such consent.  But I
am willing to answer nevertheless. — They are not cast out,
because it is a matter held in suspense, whether they do
cordially consent to the covenant, or not ; or whether their
making no such profession do not arise from some other
cause. And none are to be excommunicated, without
some positive evidence against them. And therefore they
are left in the state they were in, in infancy, not admitted
actually to partake of the Lord's supper (which actual
participation is a new positive privilege) for want of a
profession, or some evidence, beyond what is merely
negative, to make it visible that they do consent to the
covenant. For it is reasonable to expect some appearance
more than what is negative, of a proper qualification, in
order to being admitted to a privilege beyond what they may
bave bitherto actually received. A negative charity may
be sufficient for a negative privilege, such as freedom from
censure and punishment; but something more than a
negative charity, is needful to actual admission to a new
positive privilege.

SECT. XV.
A particular examination of Mr. W.'s defence qf the ninth
objection, or that boasted argument, that if it be not law
ful for unconverted men to come to the Lord's supper;
then none may come but they that know themselves to be
converted.
This argument has been greatly gloried in, as altoge
ther invincible. Mr. W. seems to have been alarmed, and
his spirits raised to no small degree of warmth, at the
pretence of an answer to it : and he uses many big words
and strong expressions in his reply ; such as, It is abso
lutely certain — It is beyond my power to comprehend,
and I believe beyond the power of any man to tell me —
this I assert and stand to — as plain as the sun — a contra
diction of the Bible, of the light of nature, and of the
common sense of mankind, &c. &c. But let us get away
from the noise of a torrent, and bring this matter to the
test of calm reasoning, and examine it to the very bottom.
Here let it be considered, wherein precisely fee argu
ment consists.  If it has any strength in it, it consists in
this proposition, viz. That it is not lawful for men to come
to sacraments, without a known right. This is a proposi
tion Mr. S. himself reduces the argument to, in his Appeal,
p. 62, 63. And it is very evident, that the whole strength
of the argument rests on the supposed truth of this propo
sition. And here let it be noted, what sort of knowledge of a
right Mr. S. and Mr. W. mean in tois argument. It is
knowledge as distinguished from such an opinion, or hope,
as is founded on probability. Thus Mr. Si expressly in
sists, that a man must not only think he has a right, but
he must know it. — (Appeal, p. 62.) And again, (p. 63.)
Probable hopes will not warrant him to come.
Mr. W. uses many peremptory strong expressions (p.
109.) to set forth the certainty of that which never was
denied; viz. That a man cannot know he has a right,
unless he knows he has the qualification which gives him
a right. But this is not the thing in question : The point
is, Whether a man may not have a lawful right, or may
not lawfully come, and yet not know his right, with such a
knowledge and evidence as is beyond probability ? This is
the thing asserted, and herein lies the argument. And the
negative of this cannot be maintained, in order to maintain
Mr. W.'s scheme, without the grossest absurdity ; it being
a position, which, according to Scripture, reason, Mr. S.'s
* if it be said here, Those who have been born of baptized ancestors,
though they do not comply with the terms of the covenant, are in covenant,
in this sense, that they have a right to the promises of the covenant condi
tionally, in case they will hereafter comply ; I answer, So are all mankind
in covenant, God may be said to have bound himself to them all condition
ally ; and many have these promises declared to them, that still remain
Jews, Mahometans, or heathens.

doctrine, and Mr. W.'s own, effectually destroys his
scheme. To this purpose, I observed, If this proposition be true,
toat no man may come, save he who not only thinks but
knows he has a right, then it will follow, that no uncon
verted person may "come, unless he knows that doctrine to be
true, That unconverted men may have a right. Because an
unconverted man cannot know, that he himself has a right,
unless he knows that doctrine which Mr. S. maintained,
to be true, viz. That men may have a right, though they
are unconverted. And consequently no one unconverted
man may lawfully come to the Lord's supper, unless he
is so knowing in this point of controversy, as not only to
think, and have probable evidence, that this opinion is right,
but knows it to be so. — Mr. W. endeavours to help the
matter by a distinction, of different kinds of knowledge :
and by the help of this distinction would make it out, that
common people in general, and even boys and girls of
sixteen years old, may with ease know, feat his doctrine
about unsanctified men's lawful coming to the Lord's
supper, is true. And we must understand him (as he
is defending Mr. S.'s argument) that they may know it
with that evidence which is distinguished from proba
bility ; and this according to Mr. W. himself, is certainty ;
which he speaks of as above a thousand probabilities. (See
p. 118. c.) But how miserable is this ; to pretend, that his
doctrine about qualifications for sacraments, is so far from
a disputable point, that it is of such plain and obvious
evidence to common people, and even children, that
without being studied in divinity, they may not only think
it to be exceeding probable, but know it to be true ! When
it is an undeniable fact, that multitudes of the greatest
ability and piety, that have spent their lives in the study
of the Holy Scriptures, have never so much as thought so.
Again, I observed, that according to Mr. S.'s doctrine,
not one unconverted man in the world can knmv, that he
has warrant to come to the Lord's supper; because, if he
has any warrant, God has given him warrant in the Scrip
tures : and therefore if any unconverted man, not only
thinks, but knows, that he has warrant from God, he must
of consequence not only think, but know, the Scriptures to
be the word of God. Whereas it was the constant doc
trine of Mr. S. that no unconverted man knows the Scrip
tures to be the word of God.f — But Mr. W. would make
it out, that Mr. S. did hoid, unconverted men might
know the Scriptures to be the word of God ; but only not
know it with a gracious knmvledge, such as effectually
bowed men's hearts, and influenced them In a gracious obe
dience, (p. 113. b.) But let us see whether it was so, or
not. Mr. S. in his Nature qf Saving Conversion (p. 73.)
says, " The carnal man is ignorant of the divine authority
of the word of God ; — His wound is, that he docs not
know certainly the divine authority of these institutions ;
he does not know but they are the inventions of men."
Again (ibid. p. 74.) he says, " The carnal man is uncer
tain of those toings that are the foundation of his reason
ings. He thinks there is a great probability of the truth of
these things ; but he has no assurance. His principles are
grounded on an uncertain proposition.'- And he observes,
(p. 20.) " Men when converted, do not look on it as pro
bable, that the word is his word, as they did before ;
but they have assurance of the truth of it." — So elsewhere,
(Guide to Christ, p. 26.) "They that have not grace, do
not properly believe the word of God." — And in another
book, (Safety of Ap. p. 6.) " The gospel always works ef
fectually where it is believed and received as the truth
of God." — In another book, (Benef. ofthe Gos. p. 149.)
" Common illumination does not convince men of the
truth of the gospel." — In his discourse on the Virtue qf
Christ's Blood, (p. 27.) speaking of such as have no interest
in the blood of Christ, he says, " They are strangers to the
divine authority of the word of God." Again, (ibid. p. 1 6.)
" Before [i. e. before saving faith] they were at a loss
whether toe word was the word of God." — To the like
t I did not say, that it was also a doctrine according to Scripture ; for
there was no occasion for this, among those with whom I had chiefly to do
in this controversy ; with whom I knew it was a point as much settled and
uncontroverted, as any doctrine of Mr. S. whatever. And I knew it to be
the current doctrine of orthodox divines ; who ever allow this doctrine to be
implied in such texts as those, John xvii. 7. 1 John iv. 15, 16. Chap. v. I,
10. and many others.

526

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

purpose are many other passages in his writings. (See
Nat. ofSav. Conv. p. 72. Safety of Ap. p. 6, 7, 99, 107,
186, 187, 229.— Benef. ofthe Gosp. p. 89.)
So that here, if it be true, toat some unconverted men
have a divine warrant to come to the Lord's supper ; and
if the thing which is the foundation of this argument, be
also true, viz. That in order to men's warrantably coming
to toe Lord's supper, they must not only think but know
they have a right ; then it must be true likewise, that they
not only think but know, that the Scripture, wherein this
warrant is supposed to be delivered, is the word of God.
And then we have the following propositions to make hang
together : that unconverted men are ignorant of the Scrip
ture's being the word of God, are uncertain of it, bave no
assurance of it, are not convinced of it, do not properly
believe it, are at a loss whether it be the word of God, or
not; and yet they not only think, but know, that toe
Scriptures are the word of God, and that the gospel, which
is fee charter of all christian privileges, is divine ; they
have a knowledge of it, which is above all probable hope
or thought, and attended with evidence above a thousand
probabilities. And now let it be considered, whether this agrees better
wito Mr. W.'s own doctrine, concerning men s knowing
the truth and divine authority of the gospel, in what bas
been before cited from his sermons on Christ a King and
Witness. Where he expressly says, that man, since the
fiill, is ignorant of the divine truth, and full of prejudices
against it ; has a view of the truth contained in tbe" Bible,
as a doubtful uncertain thing ; receives it as what is pro
bably true ; sees it as a probable scheme, and something
likely to answer the end proposed : but feat after conver
sion it appears divinely true and real. (See p. 114, 115,
and 144.) Then unconverted men only looked on the truth
of the word of God, as probable, something likely, yet as
a doubtful uncertain thing; but now they not only think
but know it to be true.
No distinction, about toe different kinds of knowledge, or
the various ways of knowing, will ever help these absur
dities, or reconcile such inconsistencies. If there be any
such sort of knorving, as is contra-distinguished to proba
ble thinking, and to such opinion as is built on a thousand
probabilities, which yet is inconsistent with being ignorant,
not believing, being uncertain, nor assured, nor convinced,
only looking on a thing probable, looking on it doubtful
and uncertain, it must certainly be a new and very strange
sort of knowledge.
But this argument, toat is so clear and invincible, must
have such supports as these, or must quite sink to the
earth. It is indeed a remarkable kind of argument. It is
not only as much against toe scheme it is brought to sup
port, as against that which it would confute ; but abund
antly more so. For if it were toe case in truth, that none
might come to the Lord's supper, but they that know they
have a right, yet it would be no direct and proper proof,
that unconverted men might come. It would indeed prove,
that many godly men might not come ; which, it is true,
would bring some difficulty on the scheme opposed ; yet
would be no proof against it. But it is direct and perfect
demonstration against the scheme it would support : it de
monstrates according to toe Scripture, and according to toe
doctrine of those that urge toe argument, toat not one
unconverted man in the world may lawfully come to the
Lord's supper; as no one of them certainly knows the
gospel to be divine, and so no one knows the charter
to be authentic, in which alone the right of any to christian
privileges is conveyed ; hence no one unsanctified man is
sure of his right ; and therefore (as toey draw the conse
quence) no one unsanctified man may come to toe Lord's
supper. And so it follows, that the more strongly Mr. W.
stands to this argument, the more peremptory and confi
dent his expressions are concerning it, the more violently
and effectually does he supplant himself.
And tois position, that a man must not take any privilege,
till he not only thinks, but knows, he has a right, is not only
unreasonable, as used by Mr. W. against me, when indeed
it is ten times as much against himself; but it is unrea
sonable in itself, as it is an argument, which if allowed
and pursued, will prove, that a man may do nothing at all,
never move hand or foot, for his own advantage, unless he

first, not only thinks, but knows, it is his duty. Mr. W.
himself owns (p. 116.) toat all toe duties, which God re
quires of us in his instituted worship, are privileges, as
well as the Lord's supper : and so is every other duty,
which we are to do for our own benefit. But all human
actions are, upon the whole, either good or evil: every
thing that we do as rational creatures, is either a duty, or
a sin ; and the neglect of every thing that is our duty is
forbidden. So that we must never so much as take a step,
or move a finger, upon only a probable judgment and
hope ; but must first know it to be our duty, before we
do it: nay, we must neither move, nor voluntarily forbear
to move, without a certainty of our duty in toe case, one
way or other !
As to its being alike difficult for men to know or be
assured of their moral sincerity, as of their real sanctifica
tion, I shall speak to that under the next head ; whereby
it will appear again, another way, toat this argument is
vastly more against Mr. W.'s scheme than mine.

SECT. XVI.
A consideration qf Mr. W.'s defence on the 10th objection,
against the doctrine qf the unlavf'ulness qf unsanclified-
men coming to the Lord's supper, that it tends to the great
perplexity and torment qf many godly men in their atten
dance on this ordinance.
My first reply to this objection was, that it is for want
of like tenderness of conscience, that the other doctrine'
which insists on moral sincerity, does not naturally bring
such as are received on those principles, into as great per
plexities. — Mr. W. in his animadversions upon it says,
" This is an assertion which I take to be contrary to com
mon sense, and the experience of mankind : and the
allowing of it to be true, must overthrow the law of nature,
and cast infinite reproach upon the author of it."
These are strong expressions ; but let us bring the mat
ter to the test of reason. — The necessary qualification, on
Mr. W.'s principles, is moral sincerity, and a certain de
gree of moral sincerity. For there is scarcely any man,
that lives under the light of the gospel, and is not an
atheist, or deist, but what has some degree of moral sin
cerity, in some toings pertaining to Christianity and his
duty ; some degree of common faith, some degree of con
viction of the need of Christ, some desire of him, and
moral willingness though from selfish considerations, to
be good ; and some purpose to endeavour a conformity to
the covenant of grace, and to seek salvation on toe terms
of it. But how shall a man know what is a sufficient
degree of these things ? Mr. W. has determined tbe mat
ter thus ; that his belief of the doctrine of toe gospel, and
moral willingness, to be conformed to the covenant of
grace, must be with his whole heart, (p. 49. e. p. 5. c. 36.
a.) And that his conviction of his undone state without
Christ must be deep ; and his desire of Christ and his be
nefits ferv en t, and bis purpose earnest, (p. 75. e. p. 11. c.)
so as to induce him to enter into covenant with all the
earnestness he can, and engage him to use endeavours
with all the strength and power toat he has. (p. 83. e.
p. 32. d. p. 36. a.)
Now how exceeding difficult must it be for unsanctified
men to determine, with any assurance, whether they have
moral sincerity to such a degree. ! — How difficult for them
to know, whether toeir convictions are thus deep ! Every
one that is used to deal with souls under conviction,
knows, that when they are indeed under deep convictions,
they are especially apt to complain of the hardness of feeir
hearts, and to think their convictions are not deep  How
difficult to determine, with any assurance, whether their
assent rises so high, that they can truly be said to believe
with all their hearts ! Whether toeir moral willingness
to be conformed to the covenant of grace, be with their
whole heart ! And whether they are really engaged with
all the solicitude they can, and are willing to do all that
they can ! These things, I am pretty sure, are of vastly
more difficult determination, than whether a man has any
true holiness, or not. For in the former case, the determi
nation is concerning the degree of things, that are capable

Sect. XVI.

OF A TENDENCY TO PERPLEXITY.

527

of an infinite variety of degrees ; some of which are nearer
to, and others are further from, the lowest sufficient degree :
and consequently some of the degrees that are not suffi
cient, may yet be very near ; which renders the matter of
very difficult determination ; unspeakably more so, that
when what is to be distinguished, is the nature of things,
which in all degrees is widely diverse, and even contrary
to that which it is to be distinguished from : as is the case
between saving and common grace; which Mr. W. him
self acknowledges.* It is more easy to distinguish light
from darkness, than to determine the precise degree of
light ; and so it is more easy to determine, whether a man
be alive or dead, than whether there be exactly such a
certain degree of vigour and liveliness.
This moral sincerity, which Mr. W. insists on, is a most
indeterminate uncertain thing ; a phrase without any cer
tain precise meaning; and must for ever remain so. It
being not determined, how much men must be morally
sincere ; how much they must believe with a moral sin
cerity ; whether the deeply awakened and convinced sinner
must believe, that God is absolutely sovereign with re
spect to his salvation, and that Christ is perfectly sufficient
to save him in particular ; and to what degree of moral
assent and consent, he must believe and embrace these
things, and comply with the terms of the covenant of
grace ; whether be must be willing to obey all God's
commands, the most difficult, as well as the most easy,
and this in all circumstances, even the most difficult that
can arise in providence; or whether only in some circum
stances ; and what, and how many. The Scripture gives
us many infallible rules, by which to distinguish between
saving grace, and common. But I know of no rules given
in the Bible, by which men may certainly determine this
precise degree of moral sincerity. So that if grace is not
the thing which gives a right to sacraments in the sight of
God, we have no certain rule in the Bible, commensurate
to the understanding of mankind, by which to determine
when we have a right, and when not. — Now let the impar
tial reader judge, which scheme lays the greatest founda
tion for perplexity to communicants of tender consciences,
concerning their qualifications for the Lord's supper ; and
whether this argument drawn from such a supposed ten
dency to such perplexity (if there be any force in it) is not
vastly more against Mr. W.'s scheme, than mine.
And here by the way, let it be noted, that by these things
it is again demonstrated, toat the ninth objection, the great
argument considered in the preceding section, concerning
the necessity of a known right, in order to a lawful par
taking, is exceedingly more against Mr. W.'s principles,
than mine ; inasmuch as, on his principles, it is so much
more difficult for men to know, whether they have a right,
or have the prescribed qualification, or not.
I answered this argument in the second place, by alleg
ing, that this doctrine of the necessity of saving grace in
order to a right to the Lord's supper, is not properly the
cause of the perplexities of doubting saints, in their at
tendance on this ordinance ; though it may be the occa
sion : but that their own negligence and sin is the true
cause ; and that this doctrine is no more the cause of these
perplexities, than the doctrine of the necessity of saving
grace in order to salvation, is the cause of the perplexity
of doubting saints when they come to die. Upon whicb
Mr. W. says, There is no shadow of resemblance of
these cases, because 'death is no ordinance, &c. But if
death is no ordinance, yet it is the required duty of the
saints to yield themselves to the Lord, and resign to the
will of God, in their death. And in this respect, the cases
are exactly parallel, that perplexities are just so much the
consequence of the respective doctrines, in one case, as in
the other ; that is, the perplexities of a doubting saint on
a death-bed, the difficulty and trouble he meets with in
resigning himself to the will of God in dying, is just in
the same manner the consequence of the doctrine of the
necessity of saving grace in order to eternal salvation, as
the perplexities of a doubting saint at the Lord's table are
the consequence of the doctrine of the necessity of saving
grace in order to a right to the Lord's supper. And tois is
sufficient for my purpose.
* See his serm. on Christ a King and Witness, (p. 84. e.) where he
says, " notwithstanding the visible likeness of nominal and real Christians,

Mr. W. himself says, in his answer to Mr. Croswell, (p.
122. c.) " Although there are comparatively few that ob
tain assurance; yet it is through their own sloth and
negligence that they do not. We fully agree with Mr.
Perkins, that a man in this life may ordinarily be infallibly
certain of his salvation. So Mr. Stoddard (in his sermon
on one good sign — ) says, " There is no necessity, that the
people of God should lie under darkness and temptation ;
they may obtain assurance." — Now, if this be the case,
then certainly there is no justice in laying the temptation
and uneasiness, which is the effect of sloth and negligence,
to the doctrine I maintain, in those that embrace it. It is
a wise dispensation of God, that he has so ordered things,
that comfort in ordinances, and in all duties, and under all
providences, should be to be obtained in a way of dili
gence; and that slothfulness should be the way to per
plexity and uneasiness, and should be a way hedged up
with thorns, agreeable to Prov. xv. 19. — That it is so
ordered, is for the good of the saints, as it tends to turn
them out of this thorny path, into the way of diligence.
And so this doctrine, as it has this tendency, has a tendency
in the end to that solid peace and comfort, which is the
happy fruit of toeir holy diligence. And that, and not the
saints' perplexity, is properly the effect of this doctrine.

SECT. XVII.
Containing some further observations on what is said by
Mr. W. in support of the 13<A objection, concerning
God's commanding all the members of the visible church,
that are not ignorant nor scandalous, to attend alt ex
ternal covenant duties.
It has been already demonstrated (sect. 8th of this third
part) that in this argument the question is begged, notwith
standing what Mr. W. has said to the contrary, which
sufficiently overthrows the whole argument. Nevertheless,
toat 1 may pass by nothing, which those who are on Mr.
W.'s side may be likely to think material; I will here
make some further observations on this objection, as re
presented and supported by Mr. W.
The chief thing, that has the plausible appearance of
argument in what Mr. S. and Mr. W. say on this head, is
this ; " That for God to require all who are in covenant to
come to the Lord's supper, and yet to forbid them to come
unconverted, is to suppose, that he both commands them
and forbids them at the same time." And this is thought
to be the more manifest, inasmuch as conversion is not in
men's power. Though it is not denied, but that God justly
requires men to be converted, or to be truly holy. (See p.
129, 130.)
To this I would say,
(1.) If when they speak of commanding and forbidding
at the same time, they mean God's commanding and
forbidding the same thing at the same time, no such con
sequence follows from my principles. For that thing, and
that only, which I suppose God requires of any, is to come
to the Lord's supper with a sanctified heart; and that this
God requires at all times, and never forbids at any time ;
and that to come without this qualification, is what he
always forbids, and requires at no time. So that what he
requires, at the same time he forbids something, is not the
same thing that he forbids ; but a very different and con
trary one. And it is no absurdity, to suppose, that God
requires one thing, and forbids a contrary thing at the same
time. To illustrate this by an example: It was the duty of
the' Jews at Jerusalem, openly to confess Christ, to own
him as the Messiah, at that hour when he was led away to
be crucified, and openly to testify their adoring respect to
him on that extraordinary occasion. But yet they did not
believe him to be the Messiah, and could not believe it,
(many of them at least,) since they looked on his present
abject circumstances as a demonstration, that he was not
the Messiah. It was beyond their power, at least at once,
in that instant, to give their assent, with all their hearts, to
such a supposition. Nor was it in their power, to exercise
there is a wide difference, as there is between the subjects of CnmsT and
the slaves of the devil."

528

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

an adoring respect to him : for, besides their strong pre
judices, most of them were judicially hardened, and given
up to a spirit of unbelief and obstinate rejection of him;
as appears by that account, (John xii. 39, 40.) *' There
fore they could not believe, because that Esaias said again,
He hath blinded their eyes, and hardened their heart, that
they should not see with their eyes," &c. (See also Luke
xix. 41, 42. and Matt. xiii. 14," 15.) And yet it would
have been unlawful for them to have made a lying pro
fession ; to profess, that they believed him to be the Mes
siah, and that they received and loved him as such, when
at the same time they hated him, and did not believe he
was the Messiah. — But here is no requiring and forbidding
the same thing at the same time : for the only thing re
quired of them was, to have faith and love, and to testify
it; which was not at all forbidden.
(2.) None of the difficulties, which Mr. S- or Mr. W.
object — either God's supposed requiring impossibilities, or
his requiring and forbidding at the same time — do follow,
any more on my principles, than on Mr. W.'s. Mr. W.
maintains, that God calls men this moment to enter into
covenant with him, and commands them to do it. (p. 28. c.)
One thing implied in this, according to his own frequent
explanation of visibly entering into covenant, is professing
a belief of the fundamental doctrines of Christianity. Now
therefore, we will suppose a man to be a candidate for
baptism, who has been brought up in Arianimt; and is
strongly persuaded, that the doctrine of the Trfnity is
not true : yet he is this moment required to profess that
doctrine ; but has no ability in a moment to believe the
doctrine, because he does not at present see the evidence
of it. For as Mr. W. himself says, (Sermon on Christ a
King and Witness, p. 91. d. e. and 92. a.) " The under
standing cannot be brought to yield its assent to any
truth, which it does not see the truth or apprehend the
evidence of.  If you would hire him with cart-loads or
ship-loads of gold and silver; if you should imprison
him, whip him, burn him ; you cannot make him believe
a thing to be true, which he apprehends to be incredible,
or which he sees no sufficient reason to believe." Now
therefore what shall the man do, on Mr. W.'s principles ?
He-is commanded to profess the doctrine of the Trinity,
which must be professed in order to be lawfully baptized
* This instance may show us, that God's requiring all Israel to enter
into covenant with God, and seal their covenant in the passover, will not
prove, that it was lawful for any to avouch the Lord to be their God, and
promise and swear they would perform universal and persevering obe
dience, when at the same moment they had no love to God, and even then,
while speaking the words, continued in an habitual wilful disobedience to
God's commands, and were willing slaves to the devil. Nor will it follow,
from these commands given to the Israelites, concerning their covenanting
with God, and sealing their covenant, that God ever did, since the founda
tion of the world, appoint or command any other covenanting with him,
than as giving up themselves wholly and without reserve, bom soul and
body, both heart and life ; or that ever he appointed or commanded any
covenanting, wherein men give a part, and keep back a part, give him the
outside, and keep back the noblest and best part, the heart, will, and af
fections, for sin and Satan ; or that there is any such covenant of God in
being; or that such covenanting has not always been as much without
foundation in any institution of God, as any of the spurious sacraments of the
church of Rome ; or that it has not always been strictly forbidden of God ;
or that it is not absolutely and in itself sinful and unlawful, as truly as the
act of Ananias and Sapphira.
t Much of the controversy discussed in this book (and the preceding
one) which was agitated with great warmth in the American churches, and
which is not unfrequently started among congregational churches in Great
Britain, seems to originate in the want of clearly stating the scriptural de
sign of entering into full communion. If this be not previously settled,
there is but little hope of a satisfactory adjustment. "Without entering here
into the minutim of proofs, the following particulars are submitted to the
reader's consideration, as probably calculated to aid his inquiries.
1. The chief enA of every human society, as well as of every intelligent
being, ought to be this, viz. To glorify God, or to represent him as glo
rious in all his perfections and ways. No human society, of whatever
kind, is exempt from this obligation. For a society is only an aggregate of
individuals; and as every individual is obliged to do this in all his actions,
he is therefore thus obliged in his social capacity. This obligation arises
from the respective natures of God and the creature, and it is clearly en
joined in the Holy Scripture. " Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of
God " — But,
2. The distinguishing subordinate end or special design of any society,
must designate its peculiar nature, whereby it is best adapted to promote
that end. Though every society is bound to seek the one chief end, yet
every social union is not adapted to answer all social ends. Societies of a
religious, moral, charitable, scientific, or political design, must have mem
bers of a corresponding character, otherwise the proposed end cannot be
answered. The qualifications of the members must have an aptitude to
promote the design.
3. The distinguishing design of a society denominated a church, evi
dently, is to promote religion. Numbers are united by divine appoint
ment, to maintain religion — to exhibit before the world real Christianity —
to encourage those who seek the right way — to edify one another — and the
like. Such particulars we gather from the sacred Scriptures. " Striving
together for the faith of the gospel." — " That ye may oe blameless and
harmless, the sons of God (resembling him) without rebuke (ort cause of

in the name of the Trinity; and on Mr. W.'s principles,
he is commanded to do it this moment. Yet also on his
principles, if the man professes it, and is not morally sin
cere, or knows he does not believe it, he is guilty oi hor
rible falsehood and prevarication; which God doubtless
forbids. Therefore here is certainly as much of an ap
pearance of commanding and forbidding the, same thing at
the same time, as in the other case.
Every husbandman in Israel, that lived even in Christ's
time, was required to offer a basket of the first-fruits; and
was commanded when he offered it, solemnly to make
that profession, concerning the principal facts relating to
the redemption out of Egypt,— which is prescribed in
Deut. xxvi. 5 — 10. "A Syrian ready to perish was my
father," &c. Now supposing there had been an Israelite,
who did not believe the truth of all these facts, which
came to pass so many ages before, (as there are now many
in Christendom, who do not believe the facts concerning
Jesus Christ,) and continued in his unbelief, till the very
moment of his offering : God peremptorily requires him
to make this profession ; yet none will say, that he may
lawfully profess these things, at the same time when he
does not believe them to be true. However, here is no
commanding and forbidding the same thing at the same
time : because, though God required the Jews to make
this profession, yet the thing required was to believe it and
profess it. Though some might not believe it, nor be able
for the present to believe it; yet this inability arose from
depravitv and wickedness of heart, which did not at all
excuse their unbelief, for one moment* Mr. W. himself
owns, (p. 129. b. c.) that God may require those things
which are out of men's natural power.
Now this may be laid down as a truth, of easy and
plain evidence ; if God may require what wicked men,
while such, are unable to perform, then he may also re
quire those things which are connected with it, and de
pendent on it, and which, if the other be done, they would
be able to do, and might do, and without which they may
not do it. So, if God may require an unsanctified. man
to love him, then he may require him to testify and pro
fess his love, as I suppose Christians do in the act of par
taking of the Lord's supper ; and yet it may not be lawful
for him to testify and profess love, when he has it not.f

rebuke) in the minds of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye
shine as lights in the world, holding forth the word of life."— A church of
Christ is appointed to shine in a dark world, to be blameless and harmless
among the crooked and perverse, to imitate God, as far as practicable,
while among the children of the wicked one, to give no offence to those
who are without or those who are within the church, to hold forth, and
hold fast, the word of life, by doctrine, by discipline, and by practice.
" Him that is weak in the faith receive you, but not to doubtful disputa
tions." Provided a person be desirous of christian fellowship, and is pos
sessed of so much knowledge, so much experienced efficacy of truth, and
so much good conduct, as is calculated to answer, in a prevailing degree,
the design of a church being at all formed, let him not be rejected.
" Wherefore comfort -yourselves together, and edify one another, even as
also ye do ?" Tbis is done by mutual instructions, exhortations, prayers,
and praises ; by watchful discipline, and the exercise of religious gifts ; by
friendly offices, and acts of christian kindness.
4. The preceding particulars are produced only as instances ; but in or
der accurately to ascertain tbe special end of christian fellowship, in full
communion, all the passages contained in the New Testament relating to
the subject ought to be included. For until the revealed special design for
which a church of Christ is instituted be ascertained, it is obviously not
possible to ascertain the precise nature ofthe society, and consequently the
qualifications of its members. However,
5. We will suppose that, by an appeal to all the passages of the New
Testament, the precise design is known ; from whence the nature of a
church is deduced : the question returns, — Is there any general rule that
may form an invariable standard by which all qualifications of candidates
may be measured ? There undoubtedly is, for this plain reason, because a
church is a society instituted for specific ends, revealed in the New Testa
ment. Now as these ends are matter of divine record, and not of human
opinion, the standard is invariable.
6. We will further suppose, that the general rule, by which to measure
qualifications for full communion, is The scriptural design for which a
gospel church in full communion is divinely instituted. No'party, how
ever they may differ about other things, can object to this rule, with any
colour of reason. To deny its claim, they must either subvert the evident
principles of all voluntary societies, or else hold, that a christian church is
not instituted in the New Testament for any specific end. But this no
reasonable person, much less a serious Christian, will maintain. Hence,
7. Those candidates for full communion, and only those, who are con
formed to this rule, are fully qualified. But here it is of essential import
ance to observe, that though a rule is, and from its very nature must be,
fixed and invariable, the qualifications of individuals are variable things,
admitting of more or less conformity to it. The conjectures of men, how
ever ingenious and plausible, cannot he admitted as a rule, because they
are variable ; but the rule must he deduced from the design itself of insti
tuting a church, which is evidently a matter of pure divine pleasure, and
which could not be, known without a revelation from God. A rule, then,
must be sought from the sacred oracles by an induction of particulars re
lating to the point in question, and from their harmonious agreement : and
it is the business of every christian church, minister and member, to search
the Scriptures in ordpr to ascertain it To contend about qualification*,

APPENDIX.

529

AN APPENDIX.
Being a Letter to the people qf the first church and congre
gation in Northampton.
DEAR BRETHREN,
Though I am not now your pastor, yet having so long
stood in that relation to you, I look on myself obliged,
notwithstanding all that has of late passed' between us,
still to maintain a special concern for your spiritual wel
fare. And as your present circumstances appear to me
very evidently attended with some pecuhar dangers,
threatening the great wounding of the interest of vital re
ligion among you ; which probably most of you are not
well aware of; I look on myself called to point forth
your danger to you, and give you warning;. What I now
especially have respect to, is the danger I apprehend you
are in, from the contents of that book ot Mr. W. of
Lebanon, to which the foregoing performance is a reply ;
which I perceive has been written and published very
much by your procurement and at your expense ; and so
fit may naturally be supposed and expected) is dispersed
in your families, and will be valued and much used by
you as a book of great importance. What I regard, is
not so much the danger you are in of being established
by that book in your former principles, concerning the
before this is agreed upon, is to contend about the dimensions of different
things, before a standard is fixed upon which to measure them. But the
constituent parts of the qualifications in candidates cannot be found in
Scripture ; they must, most evidently, be sought in the characters of the
individuals, which are indefinitely variable. To suppose that the charac
ter, or the actual attainment, of each candidate is revealed in Scripture, is
too absurd to be maintained by any rational mind. Therefore,
8. What remains for a church to do in judging of qualifications, is to com
pare the proficiency of the candidate, with the scriptural rule. The former,
ndmitting of indefinite degrees of approximation to the standard, must be
learnt from the person himself, from his conduct, and from the testimony of
others. His profession, his declared experience of divine truth, his deport
ment in society, in short, his general character, is to be viewed, in com
parison with the evident design of God in forming a church.
9. Should it be objected, that different persons, or churches, might fix on
a different standard, by adding more texts of Scripture out of which a vari
ous general result would arise; it is answered, that therefore this is the
point to be first settled. When any disagree about tbe rule, they cannot of
course agree about the qualifications. There are many texts, however,
such as those above produced, concerning whicb there can be no disagree
ment. Therule therefore should be admitted, as far as it goes. Ameasureof
a foot long may, as far as it goes, be a standard of straightness and of mea
sure, as well as a yard or a fathom. Or, to change the comparison, a small
measure of capacity may be equally accurate, to a certain degree, as a
larger measure. Let the church of small attainments act charitably, and
wait for brighter evidence. If any lack wisdom, let them ask of God, who
giveth liberally. " Letus therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded ;
and if in anything ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto
you. Nevertheless, whereto ive have already attained, let us walk by the
same rule, let us mind the same thing."
10. The scriptural rule is not only invariable, but also perfect in its kind,
as dictated by infinite wisdom for the noblest ends. But no human cha
racter, in the present state, is perfect, so as to comport universally with the
standard. Therefore no candidate for communion is perfectly qualified ;
that is, his qualifications are only comparative. One may be qualified in a
greater, and another in a smaller degree. One is qualified to fill his place
eminently, another moderately welt One may be strong, and another
weak in the faith. Yet he who is weak in the faith may be comparatively
qualified. Therefore,
11. Since qualifications are so various, and admit of indefinite approxi
mations to the perfect standard, or deviations from it, we are bound to ac
cede to another conclusion, viz. That whatever kind or degree of quali
fication appears to befriend, rather than to oppose, to honour, rather than
to discredit, the scriptural design of full communion, ought to be admitted
by the church. When a candidate for communion is proposed to a church,
its immediate business is to consult the scriptural design of communion ;
and then to consider how far the qualifications of the candidate appear to
befriend and to honour it.
12. From the premises it follows, that to reason from qualifications for
communion in the Jewish church, to those for full communion in a gospel
church, must needs be uncertain and inconclusive ; except it could be first
proved, that the revealed design of each was the same. But it requires no
great labour to show by an induction of particulars, that the design was
very different ; and consequently, that what would be a suitable qualification
for the one, would not be so for the other.
13. We may further infer, that when a church requires a probable evi
dence of grace as the measuring rule of admission, and directs nearly all
its attention to ascertain this point, its proceedings are irregular, unscrip-
tural, and therefore unwarrantable. The rule of judging, as before shown,
must be found in the Scripture, and not in the candidate.
14. We may further infer from the preceding observations, that a probable
evidence of grace in a candidate, is not the precise ground of the qualifi
cation, however desirable that evidence maybe. Yet, because ordinarily,
and most probably, the absence of saving grace implies the absence of the
precise ground of answerableness to the scriptural design of full communion,
such probable evidence is of great importance. However nice this dis
tinction may appear to some, the want of attending to it seems to have con
stituted the chief difference between our author and his antagonists. And,
in fair investigation, another question, different from what was agitated,
ought to have been first settled, viz. Whether any person, who is not
visibly the subject of saving grace, can " befriend, rather than oppose, can
honour, rather than discredit, the scriptural design of full commuirion ? **
Fairly to answer this question in the negative, it is not enough to prove, that
VOL. I. 2 M

admission of members; (though I think these principles
are indeed very opposite to the interest of true piety in
churches ;) but what I now mean is the danger there is,
that while you are making much of that book as a means
to maintain Mr. Stoddard's doctrine concerning the terms
of communion, you, and especially your children, will by
the contents of it be led quite off from other religious
principles and doctrines, which Mr. S. brought you up
in, and always esteemed as of vastly greater importance,
than his particular tenet about the Lord's supper ; and be
naturally led into notions and principles, which he ever
esteemed as of fatal tendency to the souls of men.
By the way, I would have it observed, that when I take
notice of these things in his book, my aim is not to beget
in you an ill opinion of Mr. W. as though he were as
corrupt in his settled persuasion, as one would be ready
to think, if he were to judge only by things delivered in
some parts of this book ; and especially if it should be
supposed, that he embraced all the consequences of what
he nere maintains. Men often do not see or allow the
plain consequences of their own doctrines. And there
fore, though I charge very pernicious consequences on
some things he says, yet I do not charge him with embrac
ing these consequences : nor will I undertake to explain
how it could come to pass, that he should maintain things
now in this book, in opposition to me, which are so con
trary to the good and sound doctrines he has formerly
delivered in other books. Let that be as it will, and how
ever orthodox the principles may be, which he more ordi-
such a person cannot fully answer the scriptural design. But it ought to be
proved, that no person destitute of such probable evidence of saving grace,
in any circumstances whatever, can be found, who might befriend and
honour the scriptural design of communion, rather than the contrary. This
is the real hinge of the controversy.
15. It is an unscriptural notion, too much taken upon trust, that the im
mediate business of a church, is to form an opinion respecting the spiritual
state of a person before God ; as, whether he is the subject of saving grace
— whether he has a principle of sincerity — whether his motives are spiri
tually pure, &c. Whereas, a church ought not to act the part of a jury on
the candidate's real state towards God, but on his state towards the church.
They are to determine, whether he is or is not eligible to answer the scrip
tural ends of such a society, and indeed of that particular church. For, as
the circumstances of divers churches may be very different, there may be
cases, where the same person maybe eligible to one church, and not to
another. In one church he may promote its welfare, in another hinder it.
This may greatly depend on his peculiar tenets, and the zeal with wliich he
may be disposed to maintain them. In one society he may be a source of
disquiet and confusion, but in another the reverse.
Id. Hence it is evident, that a visibility of saving grace, though it claims
the christian love and respect of the church, does not in all cases constitute
eligible qualifications. For, whatever has an evident tendency to produce
disputes, animosities, and divisions in a church, ought to be kept out of it,
But the admission of a person who appeared zealous for sentiments and cus
toms opposite to those held by the church, would have this apparent ten
dency, notwithstanding his possessing a visibility of grace, on other ac
counts. Therefore, though a visibility of grace, in some cases, may be suffi
ciently plain, yet an apparent failure in other respects may be sufficient to
show that a person is not qualified for full communion. In short, if the
church have good reason to think, that his admission would do more harm
than good, he should he deemed unqualified for membership in that so
ciety, though he may be entitled to a charitable opinion, or even christian
love, on other accounts : and, on the contrary, if the church have good rea
son to think, that his admission would do more good than harm, he should
be deemed qualified for membership— even though he may be less entitled
to a charitable opinion of his state tow ards God, than the other.
COROLLARIES.
1. Any candidate who appears, in the charitable judgment of a christian
church, likely to give a favourable representation of Christianity to the
church and the world— to encourage the desirous, by his knowledge and
tempers— and to give and receive christian edification in that commu
nion — is, in the scripture sense, qualified for full communion.
2. Personal religion, in the sight of God, is to be deemed necessafy only
for the sake of enabling the candidate to answer such ends, — as far as
membership is concerned; but, as final salvation is concerned, personal re
ligion is indispensably necessary, this connexion being clearly revealed, as
well as founded in the nature of things.
3. A christian minister may consistently exercise holy jealousy over some
church-members, and warn them of the danger of hypocrisy, without
threatening them with exclusion from their membership; because only
their overt-acts (including sentiments, tempers, and conduct,) are the object
of discipline, as they were of admission.
4. Some persons, though in a safe state towards God, may not answer the
forementioned ends of membership, better than others who are not in such
a state. 5. A person may be qualified for the society of heaven, while not quali
fied for full communion in a christian church; because the natures ofthe
two societies are different, and consequently the scriptural ends of their ad
mission into each. For infants, and idiots, &c. may be qualified by grace
for the society of heaven ; but are totally unqualified for full communion
in the church on earth.
6. Were christian churches to act always on these principles, much bitter
strife and useless discussions would be avoided, in the admission and exclu
sion of members. For, in neither the one nor the other, would the church
pronounce on the state of the persons towards God ; for when any were
admitted, no handle would be afforded to the presumption, that member
ship below is a qualification for heaven — and when any were excluded, no
occasion would De given to the excommunicated person, or to the world, to
pass the censure of un charitableness on the church ; for every voluntary
society has a right to judge, according to its own appropriate rules, who is,
and who is not, qualified to promote its welfare. — W.

530

ANSWER TO SOLOMON WILLIAMS.

Part III.

narily maintains ; yet the ill and unsound tilings he delivers
here, may do nevertheless hurt to you and your children,
who may read this book without having in view the more
wholesome doctrines of his other writings.
For instance, you have ever heen taught, that uncon
verted men do not really bilieve the gospel, are never truly
convinced of its truth ; and that it is of great importance
that sinners should be sensible of the unbelief and atheism
of their hearts. But contrary to this, Mr. W.'s book
abundantly teaches you and your children this notion,
That unsanctified men may really be convinced qf the divine
truth of the gospel, and believe it with all their hearts.
You have been ever taught, that Christless sinners,
especially when under some more slight awakenings, are
very readv to flatter themselves that they are willing to ac
cept of Christ as their Saviour; but that they must be
brought off from their vain imagination, and be brought to
see that the fault is in their own wills, and that their not
being interested in Christ is owing to their obstinacy and
perverseness, and wilful wicked refusal of God's terms;
on which account they are wholy inexcusable, and may
justly be cast off by God. But contrary to these things,
this book of Mr. W. abundantly teaches you, that men in
an unconverted state, may indeed cordially consent to the
terms of the covenant of grace, may comply with the call of
the gospel, may submit to its proposals, may have satis
faction in the offer God makes of himself as our God in
Christ, may fall in with the terms of salvation propounded
in the gospel, and renounce all other ways, and may sin
cerely and earnestly desire salvation in this way : and that
some unconverted men are not wilful obstinate sinners.
(p. 21. b.) Which doctrines, if embraced and retained by
your children as true, will tend forever to hinder that con
viction of the opposition and obstinacy of the heart, which
Mr. S. ever taught vou to be of such importance in order
to the soul's humiliation, and thorough conviction of the
justice of God in its damnation.
You have ever been taught, that the hearts of natural
men are wholly corrupt, entirely destitute of any thing
spiritually good, not having the least spark of love to God,
and as much without all things of this nature, as a dead
corpse is without life : nevertheless, that it is hard for sin
ners to be convinced of this ; that they are exceeding prone
to imagine, there is some goodness in them, some respect
to God in what they do ; yet that they must be brought off
from such a vain conceit of themselves, and come to see
themselves utterly depraved and quite dead in sin. — But
now this book of Mr. W. leads you to quite other notions ;
it leads you to suppose, that some natural men are above
lukewarmness in religion, that they may truly profess to be
the real friends of Christ, and to love God, more than his
enemies, and above the world.
It was a doctrine greatly inculcated on you by Mr. S. as
supposing it of great importance for all to be convinced of
it, that natural men are not subject to the law qf God, nor
indeed can be ; that they never do truly serve God, but are
wholly under the dominion of sin and Satan. — But if sin
ners believe Mr. W.'s book, they will not be convinced of
these things ; nay, they will believe quite contrary things,
viz. That sinners, while in a state of nature, may have a
cordial subjection to Jesus Christ, and may be subject to
him with all their hearts, and may be so devoted to the
service of Christ as to be above those that serve two mas
ters, may give up themselves to be taught, ruled, and led
by him in a gospel-way of salvation, and may give up all
their hearts and lives to him.— And is it likely, while sin
ners believe these doctrines of Mr. W. that they will ever
be brought to a thorough humiliation, in a conviction of
their being wholly under the power of enmity against
God, which Mr. S. taught you to be of such great impor
tance ?
You know it was always a doctrine greatly insisted on
by Mr. S. as a thing of the utmost consequence, that sin
ners who are seeking converting grace, should be thorough
ly sensible of God's being under no manner of obligation,
from any desires, labours, or endeavours of theirs, to be
stow his grace upon them ; either in justice, or truth, or
any other wav ; but that when they have done all, God is
perfectly at liberty, whether to show them mercy, or not ;
that they are wholly in the hands of God's sovereignty.

(See Guide to Christ, p. 75. c. d. and Benef. qft/ie Gosp.
p. 64. and p. 75, 76.) — Whereas, if a sinner "seeking sal
vation believes Mr. W.'s book, it will naturally lead him
to think quite otherwise. He (in p. 28.) speaking of such
sincerity and earnestness of endeavours as may be in na
tural men, to qualify them to come to the sacrament, and of
the great encouragement God has given, that he will be
stow his saving grace on such as use such endeavours,
adds these words, (near the bottom of the page,) " God
never will be worse than his encouragement, nor do less
than he has encouraged ; and he has said, to him that hath
shalt be given." Naturally leading the awakened sinner,
who is supposed to have moral sincerity enough to come
to the sacrament, to suppose, that God is not wholly at
liberty ; but that he has given so much encouragement,
that it may be depended upon he will give his grace ; and
that it would not be reasonable or becoming of God to do
otherwise ; because if God should do so, he would be worse
than his encouragement, and would not fulfil that word of
his, to him who hath shall be given. And how will this
tend effectually to prevent the sinner looking on God as
absolutely at liberty, and prevent his resigning himself
wholly into the hands of God, and to his sovereign plea
sure !
It is a doctrine which has ever been taught you, and
used for the warning, awakening, and humbling of gospel
sinners, that they have greater guilt, and are exposed to a
more terrible punishment, than the heathen. — But this is
spoken of by Mr. W. as an unsufferable treatment of
visible saints; naturally tending to alleviate and smooth the
matter in the consciences of those that are not scandalous
persons, though they live in unbelief and the rejection of
Christ under gospel light and mercy.
If you will believe what Mr. W. says, (p. 56.) those
blessed epithets and characters in the epistles of the apos
tles, which you always, from the first foundation of the
town, have been taught to be peculiar and glorious ex
pressions and descriptions of the blessed qualifications and
state of true saints, and heirs of eternal happiness ; such
as "being elected, chosen before the foundation of the
world, predestinated to the adoption of children through
Jesus Christ ; quickened, and made alive to God, though
once dead in trespasses and sins ; washed, sanctified, justi
fied ; — made to sit together in heavenly places in Christ ;
begotten again, to an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled ;"
— with innumerable others the like : — I say if you believe
Mr. W. you have been quite mistaken all your days, and
misled by all your ministers ; these things are no more than
were said of the whole nation of the Jews, even in their
worst times ! Which is (as I have observed) exactly agree
able to the strange opinion of Mr. Taylor, of Norwich, in
England, that author who has so corrupted multitudes in
New England. Thus you are at once deprived of all the
chief texts in the Bible, that hitherto have been made use of
among you, as teaching the discriminating qualifications
and privileges of the truly pious, and the nature and bene
fits of a real conversion ; too much paving the way for the
rest of Taylor's scheme of religion, which utterly explodes
the doctrines you have been formerly taught concerning
eternal election, conversion, justification ; and so, of a
natural state of death in sin ; and the whole doctrine of
original sin, and of the mighty change made in the soul by
the redemption of Christ applied to it.
And this, taken with those other things which I have ob
served, in conjunction with some other things which have
lately appeared in Northampton, tend to lead the young
people among you apace into a liking to the new, fashion
able, lax schemes of divinity, which have so greatly pre
vailed in New England of late ; as wide as the East is
from the West, from those great principles of religion,
which have always been taught, and have been embraced,
and esteemed most precious, and have justly been ac
counted very much your glory by others.
If this book of Mr. W. with all these things, is made
much of by you, and recommended to your children, as of
great importance to defend the principles of the town, how
far has >our zeal for that one tenet, respecting natural
men s right to the Lord's supper, transported you, and
made you forget your value and concern for the most
precious and important doctrines of Jesus Christ, taught

APPENDIX.

531

you by Mr. Stoddard, which do most nearly concern the
very vitals of religion !
I beseech you, brethren, seasonably to consider how dark
the cloud is that hangs over you, and how melancholy the
prospect (especially with regard to the rising generation) in
many respects. I have long been intimately acquainted
with your religious circumstances, your notions and prin
ciples, your advantages and dangers; having had perhaps
greater opportunity for it than any other person on earth. — ¦
Before I left you, it was very evident, that Arminianism,
and other loose notions in religion, and Mr. Taylor's in
particular, began to get some, footing among you ; and
there were some things special in your circumstances, that
threatened a great prevailing of such like notions : which
if they should by degrees generally prevail, will doubtless
by degrees put an end to what used to be called saving
religion.

Therefore let me entreat you to take the friendly warning
I now give you, and stand on your guard against the en
croaching evil. If you are not inclined to hearken to me,
from any remaining affection to one whose voice and coun
sels you once heard with joy, and yielded to with great
alacrity ; yet let me desire you not to refuse, as you would
act the part of friends to 'yourselves and your dear chil
dren. I am,
Dear Brethren,
lie who was once (as I hope through grace)
Your faithful pastor,
And devoted servant for Jesus' sake, J. E.

2 M 2

A HISTORY

WORK OF REDEMPTION,
CONTAINING .
THE OUTLINES OF A BODY OF DIVINITY,
INCLUDING
A VIEW OF CHURCH HISTORY,
IN A METHOD ENTIRELY NEW.

PREFACE.
It has long been desired by the friends of Mr. Edwards, that a number of his manuscripts should be published ; but
the disadvantage under which all posthumous publications must necessarily appear, and the difficulty of getting any con
siderable work printed in this infant country hitherto, have proved sufficient obstacles to the execution of such a proposal.
The first of these obstacles made me doubt, for a considerable time after these manuscripts came into my hands,
whether I could, consistently with that regard which I owe to the honour of so worthy a parent, suffer any of them to
appear in the world. However, being diffident of my own sentiments, and doubtful whether I were not over-jealous
in this matter, I determined to submit to the opinion of gentlemen, who are friends both to the character of Mr.
Edwards and to the cause of truth. The consequence was, that they gave their advice for publishing them.
The other obstacle was removed by a gentleman in the church of Scotland, who was formerly a correspondent of Mr.
Edwards. He engaged a bookseller to undertake the work, and also signified his desire that these following discourses
in particular might be made public.
Mr. Edwards had planned a body of divinity, in a new method, and in the form of a history ; in which he was first
to show how the most remarkable events, in all ages from the fall to the present times, recorded in sacred and profane
history, were adapted to promote the work of redemption ; and then to trace, by the light of scripture prophecy, how
the same work should be yet further carried on even to the end of the world. His heart was so much set on executing
this plan, that he was considerably averse to accept the presidentship of Prince-town college, lest the duties of that
office should put it out of his power.
The outlines of that work are now offered to the public, as contained in a series of sermons, preached at Nor
thampton in 1739,* without any view to publication. On that account, the reader cannot reasonably expect all that
from them, which he might justly have expected, had they been written with such a view, and prepared by the author's
own hand for the press.
As to elegance of composition, which is now esteemed so essential to all publications, it is well known, that the
author did not make that his chief study. However, his other writings, though destitute of the ornaments of fine
language, have it seems that solid merit, which has procured both to themselves and to him a considerable reputation
in tne world, and with many, a high esteem. It is hoped that the reader will find in these discourses many traces of
plain good sense, sound reasoning, and thorough knowledge of the sacred oracles, and real unfeigned piety : and that,
as the plan is new, and many of the sentiments uncommon, they may afford entertainment and improvement to the
ingenious, the inquisitive, and the pious reader ; may confirm their faith in God's government of the world, in our holy
christian religion in general, and in many of its peculiar doctrines ; may assist in studying with greater pleasure and
advantage the historical and prophetical 'books of Scripture ; and may excite to a conversation becoming the gospel.
That this volume may produce these happy effects in all who shall peruse it, is the hearty desire and prayer of
The reader's most humble servant,
Newhaven, Feb. 25, 1773. JONATHAN EDWARDS.
ADVERTISEMENT.
They who have a relish for the study of the Scriptures, and have access to peruse the following sheets, will, I am
persuaded, deem themselves indebted to the Rev. Mr. Edwards of Newhaven, for consenting to publish them. Though
the acute philosopher and deep divine appears in them, yet they are in the general better calculated for the instruction
and improvement of ordinary Christians, than those of President Edwards's writings, where the abstruse nature of the
subject, or the subtle objections of opposers of the truth, led him to more abstract and metaphysical reasonings. The
manuscript being intrusted to my care, I have not presumed to make any change in the sentiments or composition.
I have, however, taken the liberty to reduce it from the form of sermons, which it originally bore, to that of a continued
treatise ; and I have so altered and diversified the marks of the several divisions and subdivisions, that each class of
heads might be easily distinguished.
JOHN ERSKINE.
EilinburL'h, April29,177A.
* This is necessary to be remembered by the reader, in order lj understand some chronological observations in the following work.

A HISTORY

WORK OF REDEMPTION.

GENERAL INTRODUCTION.

Isaiah li. 8.
For' the moth shall eat them up like u garment, and the
worm shall eat them like wool : but my righteousness shall
be for ever, and my salvation from generation to genera
tion.The design of this chapter is to comfort the church under
her sufferings, and the persecutions of her enemies ; and
the argument of consolation insisted on, is the constancy
and perpetuity of God's mercy and faithfulness towards
her, which shall be manifest in continuing to work salva
tion for her, protecting her against all assaults of her ene
mies, and carrying her safely through all the changes of
the world, and finally, crowning her with victory and de
liverance. In the text, this happiness of the church of God is set
forth by comparing it with the contrary fate of her enemies
that oppress her. And therein we may observe,
I. How short-lived the power and prosperity of the
church's enemies is : " The moth shall eat them up like a
garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool ;" i. e.
however great their prosperity is, and however great their
present glory, they shall by degrees consume and vanish
away by a secret curse of God, till they come to nothing ;
and all their power and glory, and so their persecutions,
eternally cease, and they be finally and irrecoverably ruin
ed : as the finest and most glorious apparel will in time
wear away, and be consumed by moths and rottenness.
We learn who those are that shall thus consume away, by
the foregoing verse, viz. those that are the enemies of God's
people : " Hearken unto me, ye that know righteousness,
the people in whose heart is my law, fear ye not the re
proach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings.
II. The contrary happy lot and portion of God's church ;
expressed in these words, " My righteousness shall be for
ever, and my salvation from generation to generation."
Who shall have the benefit of this, we also learn by the
preceding verse, viz. They that know righteousness, and the
people in whose heart is God's law ; or, in one word, the
church of God. And concerning their happiness, we may
observe, wherein it consists ; in its continuance.
1. Wherein it consists, viz. In God's righteousness
and salvation towards them. By God's righteousness
here, is meant his faithfulness in fulfilling his covenant
promises to his church, or his faithfulness towards his
church and people, in bestowing the benefits of the cove
nant of grace upon them. Though these benefits are be
stowed of free and sovereign grace, as being altogether un
deserved ; yet as God has been pleased, by the promises
of the covenant of grace, to bind himself to bestow them,
they are bestowed in the exercise of God's righteousness
or justice. And therefore the apostle says, Heb. vi. 10.
" God is not unrighteous, to forget your work and labour
of love." And 1 John i. 9. " If we confess our sins, he
is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse
us from all unrighteousness." So the word righteousness
is very often used in Scripture for God's covenant faithful

ness ; as in Nehem. ix. 8. " Thou hast performed thy
words, for thou art righteous.'' So we are often to under
stand righteousness and covenant mercy for the same thing;
as Psal. xxiv. 5. " He shall receive the blessing from the
Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation."
Psal. xxxvi. 10. " Continue thy loving-kindness to them
that know thee, and thy righteousness to the upright in
heart." And Psal.li. 14. "Deliver me from blood-guilti
ness, O God, thou God of my salvation ; and my tongue
shall sing aloud of thy righteousness." Dan. ix. 16. " O
Lord, according to thy righteousness, I beseech thee, let
thine anger and thy fury be turned away." — And so in in
numerable other places.
The other word here used is salvation. Of these two,
God's righteousness and his salvation, the one is the cause,
of which the other is the effect. God's righteousness, or
covenant mercy, is the root, of which his salvation is the
fruit. Both of them relate to the covenant of grace. The
one is God's covenant mercy and faithfulness, the other
intends that work of God by which this covenant mercy
is accomplished in the fruits of it. For salvation is the
sum of all those works of God by which the benefits that
are by the covenant of grace are procured and bestowed.
2. We may observe its continuance, signified here by
two expressions ; for ever, and from generation to genera
tion. The latter seems to be explanatory of the former.
The phrase /or ever, is variously used in Scripture. Some
times thereby is meant as long as a man lives. It is said,
that the servant who had his ear bored through with an
awl to the door of his master should be his for ever.
Sometimes thereby is meant during the continuance ofthe
Jewish state. Of many of the ceremonial and Levitical
laws it is said, that they should be statutes for ever.
Sometimes it means as long as the world shall stand, or to
the end of the generations of men. Thus, Eccles. i. 4.
" One generation passeth away, and another cometh ; but
the earth abideth for ever." Sometimes thereby is meant
to all eternity. So it is said, " God is blessed for ever,"
Rom. i. 25. And so it is said, John vi. 51. " If any man
eat of this bread, he shall hvej'or evef." — And which of
these senses is here to be understood, the next words de
termine, viz. to the end qf the world, or to tbe end of the
generations of men. It is said in the next words, " and
my salvation from generation to generation." Indeed the
fruits of God's salvation shall remain after the end of the
world, as appears by the 6th verse : " Lift up your eyes to
the heavens, and look upon the earth beneath : for the
heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall
wax old like a garment, and they that dwell therein shall
die in like manner, but my salvation shall be for ever, and
my righteousness shall not be abolished." But the work
of salvation itself toward the church shall continue to be
wrought till then : till the end of the world God will go on
to accomplish deliverance and salvation for the church,
from all her enemies ; for that is what the prophet is here
speaking of. Till the end qf the world; till her enemies
cease to be, as to any power to molest the church. And
this expression from generation to generation, may deter-

_34

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

mine us as to the time which God continues to carry on
the work of salvation for his church, both with respect to
the beginning and end. It is from generation to generation,
i. e. throughout all generations ; beginning with the gene
rations of men on the earth, and not ending till these gene
rations end. — And therefore we deduce from these words
this
DOCTRINE.
The work qf redemption is a work that God carries on from
the Jail of man to the end ofthe world.
The generations of mankind on the earth which began
after the fall, by ordinary generation, are partakers of the
corruption of nature that followed from it ; and these gene
rations, by which the human race is propagated, shall con
tinue to the end of the world. These two are the limits of
the generations of men on the earth ; the fall of man, and
the end ofthe world, or the day of judgment. The same
are the limits of the work of redemption, as to those pro
gressive works of God, by which that redemption is brought
about and accomplished, though not as to the fruits of it;
for they shall be to eternity.
The work of redemption and the work of salvation are
the same thing. What is sometimes in Scripture called
God's saving his people, is in other places called his redeem
ing them. So Christ is called both the Saviour and the
Redeemer of his people.
Before entering on the proposed History of the Work
of Redemption, I would explain the terms made use of in
the doctrine ; — and show what those things are that are de
signed to be accomplished by this great work of God.
First. I would show in what sense the terms of the
doctrine are used ; — particularly the word redemption ; —
and, how this is a work of God, carried on from the fall of
man to the end of the world.
I. The use of the word redemption. — And here it may
be observed, that the work of redemption is sometimes un
derstood in a more limited sense, for the purchase of salva
tion; for the word strictly signifies, a purchase of deliver
ance. If we take the word in this restrained sense, the
work of redemption was not so long in doing ; but was be
gun and finished with Christ's humiliation. It was be
gun with Christ's incarnation, carried on through his life,
and finished with the time of his remaining under the
power of death, which ended in his resurrection. And so
we say, that on the day of his resurrection Christ finished
the work of redemption, i. e. then the purchase was finish
ed, and the work itself, and all that appertained to it, was
virtually done and finished, but not actually.
But sometimes the work of redemption is taken more
largely, as including all that God accomplishes tending to
this end; not only the purchase itself, but also all God's
works that were properly preparatory to the purchase, and
accomplishing the success of it. So that the whole dis
pensation, as it includes the preparation and purchase, the
application and success of Christ's redemption, is here
called the work of redemption. All that Christ does in this
great affair as Mediator, in any of his offices, either of pro
phet, priest, or king ; either when he was in this world, in
his human nature, or before, or since. And it includes not
only what Christ the Mediator has done, but also what the
Father, or the Holy Ghost, have done, as united or confe
derated in this design of redeeming sinful men ; or, in one
word, all that is wrought in execution of the external cove
nant of redemption. This is what I call the work of re
demption in the doctrine; for it is all but one work, one
design. The various dispensations or works that belong to
it, are but the several parts of one scheme. It is but one
design that is formed, to which all the offices of Christ
directly tend, and in which all the persons of the Trinity
conspire. All the various dispensations that belong to it
are united ; and the several wheels are one machine, to
answer one end, and produce one effect.
II. When I say, this work is carried on from the fall of
man to the end of the world ; in order to the full under
standing of ray meaning in it, I would desire two or three
things to be observed.
1. That it is not meant, that nothing was done in order

to it before the fall of man. Some things were done be
fore the world was created, yea from eternity. The per
sons of the Trinity were, as it were, confederated in a de
sign, and a covenant of redemption. In this covenant the
Father had appointed the Son, and the Son had under
taken the work ; and all things to be accomplished in the
work were stipulated and agreed. There were things done
at the creation of the world, in order to that work ; for the
world itself seems to have been created in order to it. The
work of creation was in order to God's works of provi
dence. So that if it be inquired, which are greatest, the
works of creation or those of providence ? I answer, the
works of providence ; because those of providence are the
end of bis works of creation ; as the building of a house, or
the forming of a machine, is for its use. But God's main
work of providence is this of redemption, as will more fully
appear hereafter.
The creation of heaven was in order to the work of re
demption; as a habitation for the redeemed ; Matt. xxv.
34. " Then shall the King say unto them on his right,
Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre
pared for you from the foundation ofthe world." Even the
angels were created to be employed in this work. And there
fore the apostle calls them, " ministering spirits, sent forth to
minister for them v/ho shall be heirs of salvation," Heb. i.
14. As to this lower world, it was doubtless created to be
a stage upon which this great and wonderful work of re
demption should be transacted : and therefore, as might be
shown, in many respects this lower world is wisely fitted,
in its formation, for such a state of man as he is in since
the fall, under a possibility of redemption. So that when
it is said, that the work of redemption is carried on from
the fall of man to the end ofthe world, it is not meant, that
all that ever was done in order to redemption has been
done since the fall. Nor,
2. Is it meant that there will be no remaining fruits of
this work after the end of the world. That glory and
blessedness that will be the sum of all the fruits, will remain
to all the saints for ever. The work of redemption is not a
work always doing and never accomplished. The fruits of
it are eternal, but the work has an issue. In the issue the
end will be obtained ; which end will last for ever. As
those things which were in order to this work — God's
electing love, and the covenant of redemption — never had
a beginning ; so the fruits of this work never will have an
end. And therefore,
3. When it is said in the doctrine, that this is a work
that God is carrying on from the fall of man to the end of
the world, what I mean is, that those things which belong
to this work itself, and are parts of the scheme, are all this
while accomplishing. There were some things done pre
paratory to its beginning, and the fruits of it will remain
after it is finished. But the work itself was begun imme
diately upon the fall, and will continue to the end of the
world. The various dispensations of God during this
space, belong to the same work, and to the same design,
and have all one issue ; and therefore are all to be reckoned
but as several successive motions of one machine, to bring
about in the conclusion one great event.
And here also we must distinguish between the parts of
redemption itself, and the parts of the work by which that
redemption is wrought out. There is a difference between
the parts of the benefits, and the parts of the work of God
by which those benefits were procured and bestowed. For
example, the redemption of Israel out of Egypt, consider
ed as the benefit which they enjoyed, consisted of two
parts, viz. their deliverance from their former Egyptian
bondage and misery, and their being brought into a more
happy state, as the servants of God, and heirs of Canaan.
But there are many more things .which are parts of that
work. To this belongs his calling of Moses, his sending
him to Pharaoh, and all the signs and wonders he wrought
in Egypt, and his bringing such terrible judgments on the
Egyptians, and many other things.
Such is this work by which God effects redemption, and
it is carried on from the fall of man to the end ofthe world,
in two respects.
1. With respect to the effect wrought on the souls ofthe
redeemed ; which is common to all ages. This effect is
the application of redemption with respect to the souls of

GENERAL INTRODUCTION.

535

particular persons, in converting, justifying, sanctifying,
and glorifying them. By these things they are actually
redeemed, and receive the benefit of the work in its effects.
And in this sense the work of redemption is carried on in
all ages, from the fall of man to the end of the world.
The work of God in converting souls, opening blind
eyes, unstopping deaf ears, raising dead souls to life, and
rescuing the miserable captives out of the hands of Satan,
was begun soon after the fall of man, has been carried on
in the world ever since to this day, and will be to the end
of the world. God has always had such a church in the
world. Though oftentimes it has been reduced to a very
narrow compass, and to low circumstances ; yet it has
never wholly failed.
And as God carries on the work of converting the souls
of fallen men through all ages, so he goes on to justify
them, to blot out all their sins, and to accept them as
righteous in his sight, through the righteousness of Christ.
He goes on to adopt and receive them from being the chil
dren of Satan, to be his own children ; to carry on the
work of his grace which he has begun in them, to com
fort them with the consolations of his Spirit, and to bestow
upon them, when their bodies die, that eternal glory which
is the fruit of Christ's purchase. What is said, Rom. viii.
30. " Whom he did predestinate, them he also called ;
and whom he called, them he also justified ; and whom
he justified, them he also glorified :" is applicable to all
ages, from the fall to the end of the world.
And the way of effecting this, is carried on by repeating
continually the same work over again, though in different
persons, from age to age. But,
2. The work of redemption with respect to the grand
design in general, as it respects the universal subject and
end, is carried on — not merely by repeating or renewing
the same effect in the different subjects of it, but— by
many successive works and dispensations of God, all
tending to one great effect, united as the several parts of a
scheme, and all together making up one great work. Like
a temple that is building ; first,- the workmen are sent forth,
then the materials are gathered, the ground is fitted, and
the foundation laid ; then the superstructure is erected,
one part after another, till at length the top-stone is laid,
and all is finished. Now the work of redemption in this
large sense, may be compared to such a building. God
began it immediately after the fall, and will proceed to the
end of the world. Then shall the top-stone be brought
forth, and all will appear complete and glorious.
This work is carried on in the former respect, as being
an effect common to all ages ; and in the tatter respect —
the grand design in general — not only by that which is
common to all ages, but by successive works wrought in
different ages. All are parts of one great scheme, whereby
one work is brought about by various steps, one step in
one age, and another in another. Tt is this last that I shall
chiefly insist upon, though not excluding the former ; for
one necessarily supposes the other.
Having thus explained what I mean by the terms of the
doctrine ; I now proceed ,
Secondly, to show what is the design of this great work,
or what things are designed to be accomplished by it. In
order to see how any design is carried on, we must first
know what it is. To know for instance, how a workman
proceeds, and to understand the various steps he takes in
order to accomplish a piece of work, we need to be in
formed what he intends to accomplish ; otherwise we may
stand by, seeing him do one thing after another, and be
quite puzzled, because we see nothing of his scheme.
Suppose an architect, with a great number of hands, were
building some great palace ; and one that was a stranger
to such things should stand by, and see some men digging
in the earth, others bringing timber, others hewing stones,
and the like, he might see that there was a great deal
done ; but if he knew not the design, it would all appear
to-'him confusion. And therefore, that the great works and
dispensations of God which belong to this great affair of
redemption may not appear like confusion to you, I would
set before you briefly the main things designed to be ac
complished1. I. It is to put all God's enemies under his feet, and that
his goodness may finally appear triumphant over all evil.

Soon after the world was created, evil entered into the
world in the fall of the angels and man. Presently after
God had made rational creatures, there were enemies who
rose up against him from among them ; and in the fall of
man evil entered into this lower world ; where also God's
enemies rose up against him. Satan endeavoured to frus
trate his design in the creation of this lower world, to
destroy his workmanship, to wrest the government of it
out of his hands, to usurp the throne, and set up himself
as the God of this world, instead of him who made it.
To these ends he introduced sin into the world ; and having
made man God's enemy, he introduced guilt, and death,
and the most dreadful misery.
Now one great design of God, in the affair of redemp
tion, was to subdue those enemies : 1 Cor. xv. 25. " lie
must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet."
Things were originally so planned, that he might disap
point, confound, and triumph over Satan ; and that he
might be bruised under Christ's feet, Gen. iii. 15. The
promise was given, that the seed of the woman should
bruise the serpent's head. It was a part of God's original
design in this work, to destroy the works of the devil, and
confound him in all his purposes : 1 John iii. 8. " For
this purpose was the Son of God manifested, that he might
destroy the works of the devil." It was a part of his
design, to triumph over sin, and over the corruptions of
men, and to root them out of the hearts of his people, by
conforming them to himself. He designed also, that his
grace should triumph over man's guilt, and sin's infinite
demerit. Again, it was a part of his design, to triumph
over death ; and however this is the last enemy that shall be
destroyed, yet that shall finally be vanquished and destroy
ed. Thus God appears glorious above all evil, and tri
umphant over all his enemies by the work of redemption.
II. God's design was perfectly to restore all the ruins of
the fall, so far as concerns the elect part of the world, by
his Son ; and therefore we read of the restitution qf all
things, Acts iii. 21 . " Whom the heaven must receive,
until the times of the restitution of all things ; and of the
times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord Jesus."
Acts iii. 19. " Repent ye therefore and be converted, that
your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing
shall come from the presence of the Lord."
Man's soul was ruined by the fall ; the image of God
was defaced ; man's nature was corrupted, and he became
dead in sin. The design of God was, to restore the soul
of man to life and the divine image in conversion, to carry
on the change in sanctification, and to perfect it in glory.
Man's body was ruined ; by the fall it became subject to
death. The design of God was, to restore it from this
ruin, and not only to deliver it from death in the resurrec
tion, but to deliver it from mortality itself, in making it
like unto Christ's glorious body. The world was ruined,
as to man, as effectually as if it had been reduced to chaos
again ; all heaven and earth were overthrown. But the
design of God was, to restore all, and as it were to create
a new heaven and a new earth : Isa. lxv. 17. " Behold, I
create new heavens, and a new earth ; and the former shall
not be remembered, nor come into mind." 2 Pet. iii. 13.
" Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look for new
heavens, and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness."
The work by which this was to be done, was begun im
mediately after the fall, and so is carried on till all is
finished, when the whole world, heaven and earth, shall be
restored. There shall be, as it were, new heavens, and a
new earth, in a spiritual sense, at the end of the world.
Thus it is represented, Rev. xxi. 1 . " And I saw a new
heaven, and a new earth ; for the first heaven and the first
earth were passed away."
III. Another great design of God in the work of re
demption, was to gather together in one all things in Christ,
in heaven and in earth, i. e. all elect creatures ; to bring
all elect creatures, in heaven and in earth, to an union one
to anbther in one body, under one head, and to unite all
together in one body to God the Father. This was begun
soon after the fall, and is carried on through all ages, and
shall be finished at the end of the world.
IV. God designed by this work to perfect and complete
the glory of all the elect by Christ— glory, " such as eve
hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor has ever entered into the

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

heart of man." He intended to bring them to perfect ex
cellency and beauty in his holy image, which is the proper
beauty of spiritual beings; and to advance them to a
florious degree of honour, and raise them to an ineffable
eight of pleasure and joy. Thus he designed to glorify
the whole church of elect men in soul and body, and witn
them to bring the glory of the elect angels to its highest
elevation under one head.
V. In all this God designed to accomplish the glory of
the blessed Trinity in an eminent degree. God had a
design of glorifying himself from eternity ; yea, to glorify
each person in the Godhead. The end must be considered
as first in order of nature, and then the means ; and there
fore we must conceive, that God having professed this
end, had then as it were the means to choose ; and the
principal mean that he adopted was this great work of re
demption. It was his design in this work to glorify his
only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ ; and by the Son to glorify
the Father: John xiii. 31, 32. " Now is the Son of man
glorified, and God is glorified in him. If God be glorified
in him, God also shall glorify him in himself, and shall
straightway glorify him. It was his design that the Son
should thus be glorified, and should glorify the Father by
what should be accomplished by the Spirit to the glory of
the Spirit, that the whole Trinity, conjunctly, and each
person singly, might be exceedingly glorified. The work
that was the appointed means of this, was begun imme
diately after the fall, and is carried on till, and finished at,
the end of the world, when all this intended glory shall be
fully accomplished in all things
Having thus explained the terms in the doctrine, and
shown what things are to be accomplished by this great
work of God, I proceed now to the proposed History ; that

is, to show how what was designed by the work of re
demption has been accomplished, in the various steps of
this work, from the fall of man to the end of the world.
In order to this, I would divide this whole space of
time into three periods :  the
1st, reaching from the fall of man to the incarnation of
Christ ; — the
2d, from Christ's incarnation till his resurrection ; or the
whole time of Christ's humiliation ; — the
3d, from thence to the end of the world.
Some may be ready to think this a very unequal di
vision ; and so indeed it is in some respects, because the
second period, although so much shorter than either of the
other — being but between thirty and forty years, whereas
both the other contain thousands — in this affair is more
than both the others. — I would therefore proceed to show
distinctly how the work of redemption is carried on
through each of these periods in their order, under three
propositions. I. That from the fall of man to the incarnation of Christ,
God was doing those things which were preparatory to his
coming, as forerunners and earnests of it.
II. That the time from Christ's incarnation to his
resurrection, was spent in procuring and purchasing re
demption. III. That the space of time from the resurrection of
Christ to the end of the world, is all taken up in bringing
about or accomplishing the great effect or success of that
purpose. In a particular consideration of these three propositions,,
the great truth taught in the doctrine may perhaps appear
in a clear light.

PERIOD I.

PROM THE FALL TO THE INCARNATION.

The great works of God in the world during this whole
space of time, were all preparatory. There were many
great changes and revolutions in the world, and they were
all only the turning of the wheels of providence to make
way for the coming of Christ, and what he was to do in
the world. Hither tended especially all God's great works
towards his church. The church was under various dis
pensations of providence, and in very various circum
stances, before Christ came ; but all these dispensations
were to prepare the way for his coming. God wrought
salvation for the souls of men through all that space of
time, though the number was very small to what it was
afterwards ; and all this was by way of anticipation. All
the souls that were saved before Christ came, were only
the earnests of the future harvest.
God wrought many deliverances for his church and
people before Christ came ; but these were only so many
images and forerunners of the great salvation. The church
during that space of time enjoyed the light of divine reve
lation. They had in a degree the light ofthe gospel. But
all these revelations were only so many earnests of the
great light that he should bring who came to be the light
of the world. That whole space of time was the time of
night, wherein the church of God was not indeed wholly
without light ; but it was like the light of the moon and
stars ; a dim light in comparison of the light of the sun,
and mixed with a great deal of darkness. It had no glory
by reason ofthe glory that excelleth, 2 Cor. iii. 10. The
church had indeed the light of the sun, but it was only as
reflected from the moon and stars. The church all that
while was a minor. Gal. iv. 1 — 3. " Now I say, that the
heir as long as he is a child, differeth nothing from a
servant, though he be lord of all ; but is under tutors and
governors, until the time appointed of the Father. Even
so we, when we were children, were in bondage under the
elements of the world."

But here, for the greater clearness and distinctness, I
shall subdivide this period into parts :
1st, From the fall to the flood.
2d, From thence to the calling of Abraham.
3d, From thence to Moses.
4th, From thence to David.
5th, From David to the captivity in Babylon.
6th, From thence to the incarnation of Christ.

PART I.

FROM THE FALL TO THE FLOOD.

Though this period was the most distant from Christ's
incarnation ; yet then was this glorious building begun.
I. As soon as man fell, Christ entered on his mediatorial
work. Then it was that he began to execute the work and
office of a mediator. He had undertaken it before the
world was made. He stood engaged with the Father to
appear as man's mediator, and to take on that office when
there should be occasion, from all eternity. But now the
time was come. Christ the eternal Son of God clothed
himself with the mediatorial character, and therein pre
sented himself before the Father. He immediately stepped
in between a holy, infinite, offended Majesty, and offend
ing mankind. He was accepted in his interposition ; and
so wrath was prevented from 'going forth in the full ex
ecution of that amazing curse that man had broueht on I
himself. B
It is manifest that Christ began to exercise the office of
mediator between God and man as soon as ever man fell,
because mercy began to be exercised towards man imme-

Part I.

FROM THE FALL TO THE FLOOD.

5,37

diately. There was mercy in the forbearance of God, that
he did not destroy him, as he did the angels when they
fell. But there is no mercy exercised toward fallen man
but through a mediator. If God had not in mercy re
strained Satan, he would immediately have seized on his
prey. Christ began to do the part of an intercessor for
man as soon as he fell ; for there is no mercy exercised
towards man but what is obtained through Christ's inter
cession. From that day Christ took on him the care of
the church, in the exercise of all his offices. He undertook
to leach mankind in the exercise of his prophetical office ;
to intercede for fallen man in his priestly office ; and to
govern the church and the world as a king. He from that
time took upon him the care of defending his elect church
from all their enemies. When Satan, the grand enemy,
had conquered and overthrown man, the business of resist
ing and conquering him was committed to Christ. He
thenceforward undertook to manage that subtle powerful
adversary. He was then appointed the Captain of the
Lord's hosts, the Captain of their salvation. Henceforward
this lower world, with all its concerns, devolved upon the
Son of God : for when man had sinned, God the Father
would have no more to do immediately with this world of
mankind, that had apostatized from and rebelled against
him. He would henceforward act only through a me
diator, either in teaching men, or in governing, or bestow
ing any benefits on them.
And therefore, when we read in sacred history what God
did, from time to time, towards his church and people,
and how he revealed himself to them, we are to understand
it especially of the second person of the Trinity. When
we read of God appearing after the fall, in some visible
form or outward symbol of his presence, we are ordinarily,
if not universally, to understand it of the second person of
the Trinity. John i. 18. " No man hath seen God at any
time ; the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of
the Father, he hath declared him." He is therefore called
" the image of therinvisible God," Col. i. 15. intimating,
that though God the Father be invisible, yet Christ is his
image or representation, by which he is seen.
Yea, not only this lower world devolved on Christ, that
he might have the care and government of it, and order it
agreeably to his design of redemption, but also in some
respect the whole universe. The angels from that time are
subject to him in his mediatorial office, as is manifest by
the scripture history, wherein we have accounts of their
acting as ministering spirits in the affairs of the church.
And therefore we may suppose, that immediately on the
fall of Adam, it was made known in heaven among the
angels, that God had a design of redemption with respect
to fallen man ; that Christ had now taken upon him the
office and work of a mediator between God and man ;
and that they were to be subservient to him in this office.
And as Christ, in this office, has been solemnly installed
the King of heaven, and is thenceforward, as God-man,
the Light, the Sun of heaven, (agreeable to Rev. xxi. 23.)
so this revelation made in heaven among the angels, was
as it were the first dawning of this light there. When
Christ ascended into heaven after his passion, and was
solemnly enthroned, then this Sun rose in heaven, even
the Lamb that is the light of the New Jerusalem.
II. Presently upon this the gospel was first revealed on
earth, in these words, Gen. iii. 15. " And I will put en
mity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed
and her seed : it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt
bruise his heel." We must suppose, that God's intention
of redeeming fallen man was first signified in heaven,
before it was signified on earth, because the business of
the angels as ministering spirits of the Mediator required
it ; for as soon as ever Christ had taken on him the work
of a mediator, it was requisite that the angels should be
ready immediately to be subservient to him in that office :
so that the light first dawned in heaven ; but very soon
after the same was signified on earth. In those words of
God there was an intimation of another surety to be ap
pointed for man, after the first surety had failed. This
was the first revelation of the covenant of grace ; the first
dawning ofthe light ofthe gospel on earth.
This lower world before the fall enjoyed noon-day light;
the light of the knowledge of God, the light of his glory,

and the light of his favour. But when man fell, all this
light was at once extinguished, and the world reduced back
again to total darkness ; a worse darkness than that which
was in the beginning of the world, (Gen. i. 2.) Dnrkne<s
was upon the face ofthe deep, a darkness a thousand times
more remediless than that. Neither men nor angels could
find out any way whereby this darkness might be scattered.
It appeared in its blackness when Adam and his wife saw
that they were naked, and sewed fig-leaves ; when they
heard the voice of the Lord God, walking in the garden,
and hid themselves among the trees. When God first
called them to an account, and said to Adam, " What is
this that thou hast done 7 Hast thou eaten of the tree,
whereof I commanded thee, that thou shouldst not eat?"
Then we may suppose that their hearts were filled with
shame and terror. But these words of God, (Gen. iii. 15.)
were the first dawning of gospel light, after this dismal
darkness. Before this there was not one glimpse of light,
any beam of comfort, or the least hope. It was an obscure
yet comprehensive revelation of the gospel ; not indeed
made to Adam or Eve directly, but contained in what God
said to the serpent.
Here was a certain intimation of a merciful design by
" the seed of the woman," which was like the first glim
merings ofthe light in the east when the day first dawns.
This intimation of mercy was given, even before sentence
was pronounced on either Adam or Eve, from tenderness
to them, lest they should be overborne with a sentence of
condemnation, without having any thing held forth whence
they could gather any hope.
One of those great things that were intended to be done
by the work of redemption, is more plainly intimated, viz.
God subduing his enemies under the feet of his Son. God's
design of this was now first declared. Satan probably had
triumphed greatly in the fall of man, as though he had
defeated the designs of God in his creation. But in these
words God gives him a plain intimation, that he should
not finally triumph, but that a complete victory and
triumph should be obtained over him by the seed of the
woman. This revelation of the gospel was the first thing that
Christ did in his prophetical office. ' From the fall of man
to the incarnation of Christ, God was doing those things
that were preparatory to Christ's coming to effect redemp
tion, and were forerunners and earnests of it. And one of
those things was to foretell and promise it, as he did from
age to age, till Christ came. This was the first promise
given, the first prediction that ever was made of it.
III. Soon after this, the custom of sacrificing was ap
pointed, to be a standing type of the sacrifice of Christ,
till he should come, and offer up himself a sacrifice to God.
Sacrificing was not a custom first established by the Le-
vitical law, for it had been a part of God's instituted wor
ship from the beginning. We read of the patriarchs,
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, offering sacrifice, and before
them Noah, and Abel. And this was by divine.appoint-
ment; for it was part of God's worship in his church, which
was offered up in faith, and which he accepted. This
proves that it was by his institution; for sacrificing is no
part of natural worship. The light of nature doth not
teach men to offer up beasts in sacrifice to God; and
seeing it was not enjoined by the law of nature, to be ac
ceptable to God, it must be by some positive command or
institution ; for God has declared his abhorrence of such
worship as is taught by the precept of men without his in
stitution. (Isa. xxix. 13.) And such worship as hath not
a warrant from divine institution, cannot be offered up in
faith, because faith has no foundation where there is no
divine appointment. Men have no warrant to hope for God's
acceptance, in that which is not of his appointment, and in
that to which he hath not promised his acceptance : and
therefore it follows, that the custom of offering sacrifices
to God was instituted soon after the fall ; for the Scripture
teaches us, that Abel offered " the firstlings of his flock,
and of the fat thereof," Gen. iv. 4. and that he was ac
cepted of God in this offering, Heb. xi. 4. And there is
nothing in the story intimating that the institution was
first given when Abel offered up that sacrifice to God ;
but rather that Abel only complied with a custom already
established.

538

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

It is very probable that sacrifice was instituted imme
diately after God had revealed the covenant of grace, (Gen.
iii. 15.) as the foundation on which the custom of sacri
ficing was built. That promise was the first stone laid
towards this glorious building, the work of redemption ;
and the next stone, the institution of sacrifices, to be a
type of the great sacrifice.
The next thing that we have an account of, after God
had pronounced sentence on the serpent, on the woman,
and on the man, was, that God made them coats of skins,
and clothed them ; which, by the generality of divines, are
thought to be the skins of beasts slain in sacrifice. For
we have no account of any thing else that should be the
occasion of man's slaying beasts, except to offer them in
sacrifice, till after the flood. Men were not wont to eat
the flesh of beasts as their common food till after the flood.
The first food of man before the fall, was the fruit of the
trees of paradise ; and after the fall, his food was the pro
duce of the field : Gen. iii. 18. " And thou shalt eat the
herb of the field." The first grant that he had to eat flesh,
as his common food, was after the flood: Gen. ix. 3.
'•' Every moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you ;
even as the green herb have I given you all things." So
that it is likely that these skins with which Adam and Eve
were clothed, were the skins of their sacrifices. God's
clothing them with these was a lively figure of their being
clothed with the righteousness of Christ. It was God
that gave them this clothing; for it is said, God made
them coats qf skins, and clothed them. The righteousness
with which we are clothed, is of God. It is he only
clothes the naked soul.
Our first parents, who were naked, were clothed at the
expense of life. Beasts were slain, in order to afford them
clothing. So doth Christ, to afford clothing to our naked
souls. The tabernacle in the wilderness, which signified
the church, was covered with rams' skins died red, as
though they were dipped in blood, to signify that Christ's
righteousness was wrought out through the pains of death,
under which he shed his precious blood.
We observed before, that the light that the church en
joyed from the fall of man, till Christ came, was like the
light which we enjoy in the night ; not the light of the sun
directly, but as reflected from the moon and other lumi
naries ; which light prefigured Christ, the Sun of righteous
ness that was afterwards to arise. This light they had
chiefly two ways ; one was by predictions of Christ to
come ; the otlier was by types and shadows, whereby his
coming and redemption were prefigured. The first thing
that was done to prepare the way for Christ in the former
of these ways, was in that promise noticed in the foregoing
particular ; and the first thing of the latter kind, was that
institution of sacrifices that we are now upon. As that
promise in Gen. iii. 15. was the first dawn of gospel-light
after the fall in prophecy ; so the institution of sacrifices
was the first hint of it in types. The former was done in
pursuance of Christ's prophetical office ; in the latter,
Christ exhibited himself in his priestly office.
The institution of sacrifices was a great thing done to
wards preparing the way for Christ's coming, and work
ing out redemption. For the sacrifices of the Old Testa
ment were the main of all the Old-Testament types of
Christ and his redemption ; and it tended to establish in
the minds of God's visible church the necessity of a
a propitiatory sacrifice, in order to the Deity's being satis
fied for sin ; and so prepared the way for the reception of
the glorious gospel, that reveals the' great sacrifice in the
visible church, and not only so, but through the world of
mankind. For from this institution of sacrifices all na
tions derived the custom of sacrificing to the gods, to
atone for their sins. No nation, however barbarous, was
found without it. This is a great evidence of the truth of
the christian religion ; for no nation except the Jews,
could tell how they came by this custom, or to what pur
pose it was to offer sacrifices' to their deities. The liriit of
nature did not teach them any such thing. That did not
teach them that the gods were hungry, and fed upon the
flesh which they burnt in sacrifice ; and yet thev all had
this custom ; of which no other account can be given, but
that they derived it from Noah, who had it from his an
cestors, on vt horn God had enjoined it as a type of the

great sacrifice of Christ. However, by this means all nations
of the world had their minds possessed with this notion,
that an atonement or sacrifice for sin was necessary ; and a
way was made for their more readily receiving the great doc
trine of the gospel, the atonement and sacrifice of Christ.
IV. God soon after the fall began actually to save the
souls of men through Christ's redemption. In this, Christ,
who had lately taken upon him the work of mediator be
tween God and man, did first begin that work, wherein he
appeared in the exercise of his kingly office, as in the
sacrifices he was represented in his priestly office, and in
the first prediction of redemption by Christ he had ap
peared in the exercise of his prophetical office. In that
prediction the light of Christ's redemption first began to
dawn in the prophecies of it ; in the institution of sacri
fices it first began to dawn in the types of it ; in this, viz.
his beginning actually to save men, it first began to dawn
in the fruit of it.
It is probable, therefore, that Adam and Eve were the
first fruits of Christ's redemption ; it is probable by God's
manner of treating them, by his comforting them as he did,
after their awakenings and terror. They were awakened,
and ashamed with a sense of their guilt, after their eyes
were opened, and they saw that they were naked, and
sewed fig-leaves to cover their nakedness ; as the sinner,
under the first awakenings, is wont to endeavour to hide
the nakedness of his soul, by a fancied righteousness of
his own. Then they were further terrified and awakened,
by hearing the voice of God as he was coming to condemn
them. Their coverings of fig-leaves do not answer the
purpose; but notwithstanding these, they ran to hide
themselves among the trees of the garden, because they
were naked, not daring to trust to their fig-leaves to hide
their nakedness from God. Then they- were further
awakened by God's calling of them to a strict account.
But while their terrors were raised to such a height, and
they stood, as we may suppose, trembling and astonished
before their Judge, without any expedient whence they
could gather any hope, then God took care to hold forth
some encouragement, to keep them from the dreadful ef
fects of despair under their awakenings, by giving a hint
of a design of mercy by a Saviour, even before he pro
nounced sentence against them. And when after this he pro
ceeded to pronounce sentence, whereby we may suppose
their terrors were further raised, God soon after took care
to encourage them, and to let them see, that he had not
wholly cast them off, by taking a fatherly care of them in
their fallen, naked, and miserable state, by making them
coats of skins and clothing them. Which also manifested
an acceptance of those sacrifices that they offered to God,
which were types of what God had promised, when he
said, The seed qf the woman shall bruise Hie serpent's head.
This promise, there is reason to think, they believed and
embraced. Eve seems plainly to express her hope in
and dependence on that promise, in what she says at the
birth of Cain, Gen. iv. 1. " I have gotten a man from the
Lord;" i. e. as God has promised, that my seed should
bruise the serpent's head ; so now has God given me this
pledge and token of it, and I have a seed born. She
plainly owns, that this child was from God, and hoped
that her promised seed was to be of this, her eldest son ;
though she was mistaken, as Abraham, was with respect to
Ishmael, as Isaac was with respect to Esau, and as Samuel
was with respect to the first-born of Jesse. And especial
ly does what she said at the birth of Seth, express her
hope and dependence on the promise of God; (ver. 25.J
" For God hath appointed me another seed, instead of
Abel, whom Cain slew."
Thus it is exceeding probable, if not evident, that as
Christ took on him the work of mediator as soon as man
fell ; so that he now immediately began his work of re
demption in its effect, and that he immediately encoun
tered his great enemy the devil, whom he had undertaken
to conquer, and rescued those two first captives out of his
hands; therein baffling him, soon after his triumph over
them, whereby he had made them his captives. And
though he seemed sure of them and all their posterity,
Christ the Redeemer soon showed him, that he was mis
taken. He let him see it, in delivering those first captives,
and so soon gave him an instance of the fulfilment of that

Part I.

FROM THE FALL TO THE FLOOD.

threatening, " The seed of the woman shall bruise the ser
pent's head ;" and in this instance a presage of his subdu
ing all his enemies under his feet.
After this we have another instance of redemption in
one of their children, righteous Abel, as the Scripture
calls him ; whose soul perhaps was the first that went to
heaven through Christ's redemption. In him we have at
least the first recorded instance of the death of a redeemed
person. If he was the first, then as the redemption of
Christ began to dawn before in the souls of men in their
conversion and justification, in him it first began to dawn
in glorification ; and in him the angels began first to do
the part of ministering spirits to Christ, in going forth to
conduct to glory the souls of the redeemed. And in him
the elect angels in heaven had the first opportunity to see
so wonderful a thing as the soul of one of the fallen race
of mankind, that had been sunk by the fell into such an
abyss of sin and misery, brought to heaven, and in the en
joyment of heavenly glory, which was a much greater thing
than if they had seen him returned to the earthly paradise.
Thus they saw the glorious effect of Christ's redemption,
in the great honour and happiness that was procured for
sinful, miserable creatures.
V. The next remarkable thing that God did in further
carrying on this great redemption, was the first uncommon
pouring out of the Spirit, through Christ, in the days of
Enos. We read, Gen. iv. 26. " Then began men to call
upon the name of the Lord." The meaning of those
words has been considerably controverted among divines.
We cannot suppose the meaning is, that then first men
performed the duty of prayer. Prayer is a duty of natural
religion, and a duty to which a spirit of piety does most
naturally lead men. Prayer is the very breath of a spirit
of piety; we cannot suppose therefore, that holy men be
fore, for above two hundred years, had lived without
prayer. Therefore some divines think, that the meaning
is, that then men first began to perform public worship,
or to call upon the name of the Lord in public assem
blies. However, thus much must necessarily be under
stood by it, viz. that there was something new in the
visible church of God with respect to calling upon the
name of the Lord ; that there was a great addition to the
performance of this duty ; and that in some respect or
other it was carried far beyond what it ever had been be
fore, which must be the consequence of a remarkable pour
ing out of the Spirit of God.
If it was now first that men were stirred up to meet in
assemblies to assist one another in seeking God, so as they
never had done before ; it argues something extraordinary
as the cause, and could be from nothing but the uncom
mon influences of God's Spirit. We see by experience,
that a remarkable pouring out of God's Spirit is always
attended with such an effect, viz. _ great increase of the
performance of the duty of prayer. When the Spirit of
God begins a work on men s hearts, it immediately sets
them to calling on the name of the Lord. As it was with
Paul after the Spirit of God had arrested him ; Behold, he
prayeth ! so it has been in all remarkable effusions of the
Spirit of God recorded in Scripture ; and so it is foretold
it will be in the latter days, lt is foretold, that the Holy
Spirit will be poured out as a spirit of grace and suppli
cation, Zech. xii. 10. See also Zeph. iii. 9. " For then
will I turn to the people a pure language, that they may
all call upon the name of the Lord, to serve him with one
consent." And when it is said, " Then began men to call upon the
name ofthe Lord," no more can be intended by it, than
that this was the first remarkable season of this nature
that ever was. It was the beginning, or the first, of such
a work of God. In tbis manner such an expression is
commonly used in Scripture : so, 1 Sam. xiv. 35. " And
Saul built an altar unto the Lord ; the same was the first
altar that he built unto the Lord." In the Hebrew it is,
as you may see in the margin, that altar he began to build
unto the Lord. Heb. ii. 3. " How shall we escape if we
neglect so great salvation, which first began to be spoken
by the Lord ?"
It may here be observed, that from the fall of man, to
our day, the work of redemption in its effect has mainly
been carried on by remarkable communications of the

539
Spirit of God. Though there be a more constant influ
ence of God's Spirit always in some degree attending his
ordinances ; yet the way in which the greatest things have
been done towards carrying on this work, always have
been by remarkable effusions, at special seasons of mercy,
as may fully appear hereafter in our further prosecution of
our subject. And this in the days of Enos, was the first
remarkable pouring out of the Spirit of God that ever was.
There had been a saving work of God on the hearts of
some, before ; but now God was pleased to bring in a har
vest of souls to Christ ; so that in this we see that great
building, of which God laid the foundation immediately
after the fall of man, carried on further, and built higher,
than ever it had been before.
VI. The next thing I shall notice, is the eminently holy
life of Enoch, who, we have reason to think, was a saint of
greater eminency than any that had been before him ; so
that in this respect the work of redemption was carried on
to a still greater height. With respect to its effect in the
visible church in general, we observed above how it was
carried higher in the days of Enos than ever it had been
before. Probably Enoch was one of the saints of that
harvest; for he Hved all the days that he did live on
earth, in the days of Enos. And with respect to the de
gree to which this work was carried in the soul of a parti
cular person, it was raised to a greater height in Enoch
than ever before. His soul, built on Christ, was built up
in holiness to a greater height than any preceding instance.
He was a wonderful instance of Christ s redemption, and
of the efficacy of his grace.
VII. In Enoch's time, God more expressly revealed the
coming of Christ than he had before done. Jude, ver. 14,
15. "And Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, pro
phesied of these, saying, Behold, the Lord cometh with
ten thousand of his saints, to execute judgment upon all,
and to convince all that are ungodly among them, of their
ungodly deeds which they have ungodly committed, and
of all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have
spoken against him. Here Enoch prophesies of the com
ing of Christ. It does not seem to be confined to any
particular coming of Christ ; but it has respect in general
to Christ's coming in his kingdom, and is fulfilled in a
degree in both his first and second coming; and indeed
in every remarkable manifestation Christ has made of him
self in the world, for the saving of his people, and the de
stroying of his enemies. It is very parallel in this respect
with many other prophecies of the Old Testament ; and,
in particular, with that great prophecy of Christ's coming
in his kingdom, whence the Jews principally took their
notion of the kingdom of heaven, Daniel vii. 10. "A fiery
stream issued, and came forth from before him : thousand
thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times
ten thousand stood before him : the judgment was set,
and the books were opened." And ver. 13, 14. " I saw
in the night visions, and behold, one like the Son of man,
came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient
of days, and they brought him near before him. And
there was given him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom,
that all people, nations, and languages, should serve him :
his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not
pass away, and his kingdom that which shall not be de
stroyed." And though it is not unlikely that Enoch
might have a more immediate respect in this prophecy to
the approaching destruction of the old world by the flood,
which was a remarkable resemblance of Christ's destruc
tion of all his enemies at his second coming, yet it doubt
less looked beyond the type to the antitype.
And as this prophecy of Christ's coming is more ex
press than any preceding it ; so it is an instance of the
increase of that gospel-light which began to dawn pre
sently after the fell of man ; and of that building which is
the subject of our present discourse, being \et further car
ried on, and built up higher than it had been before.
And here, by the way, I would observe, that the in
crease of gospel-light, and the progress of the work of re
demption, as it respects the church in general, from its
erection to the end of the world, is very similar to the pro
gress ofthe same work, and the same light, in a particular
soul, from the time of its conversion, till it is perfected
and crowned in glory. Sometimes the light shines brighter,

540

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION

Period I.

and at other times more obscurely ; sometimes grace pre
vails, at other times it seems to languish for a great while
together; now corruption prevails, and then grace revives
again. But in general grace is growing : from its first
infusion, till it is perfected in glory, the kingdom of Christ
is building up in the soul. So it is with respect to the
great affair in general, as it relates to the universal subject
of it, and as it is carried on from its first beginning, till it
is perfected at the end of the world.
VIII. The next remarkable thing towards carrying on
this work, was the translation of Enoch into heaven. (Gen.
v. 24.) " And Enoch walked with God, and he was not ;
for God took him." Moses, in giving an account of the
genealogy of those that were of the line of Noah, does not
say concerning Enoch, he lived so long and he died, as he
does of the rest ; but, he was not, for God took him ; i. e.
he translated him ; in body and soul carried him to heaven
without dying, as it is explained in Heb. xi. 5. " By faith
Enoch was translated that he should not see death." By
this wonderful work of God, the work of redemption was
carried to a greater height, in several respects, than it had
been before.
When showing what God aimed at in the work of re
demption, or what were the main things he intended to
bring to pass ; among other things I mentioned the perfect
restoration of the ruins of the fall, with respect to the elect,
both in soul and body. Now this translation of Enoch
was the first instance of restoration with respect to tbe
body. There had been many instances of restoring the soul
of man by Christ's redemption, but none of redeeming and
actually saving the body, till now. All the bodies of the
elect are to be saved as well as their souls. At the end of
the world, all their bodies shall actually be redeemed;
those that then shall have been dead, by a resurrection ; and
others, that then shall be living, by causing them to undergo
a glorious change. There was a number of the bodies of
saints raised and glorified, at the resurrection of Christ ;
and before that there was an instance of a body glorified in
Elijah. But the first instance of all was this of Enoch.
By this, the work of redemption was carried on still
further ; as, this wonderful work of God afforded a great
increase of gospel-light to the church, hereby it had a
clearer manifestation of a future state, and of the glorious
reward of the saints in heaven. We are told, 2 Tim. i. 10.
" That life and immortality are brought to light by the
gospel." What was said in the Old Testament of a future
state, is very obscure, in comparison with the more full,
plain, and abundant revelation given of it in the New.
But yet even in those early days, the church of God, in
this instance, was favoured with an instance of it set be
fore their eyes, in that one of their brethren was actually
taken up to heaven without dying; which we have all
reason to think tbe church of God knew then, as they after
wards knew Elijah's translation. And as this was a
clearer manifestation of a future state than the church had
enjoyed before, so it was a pledge or earnest of that future
glorification of all the saints which God intended through
the redemption of Jesus Christ.
IX. The next thing that I shall observe, was the up
holding of the church of God in that family from which
Christ was to proceed during that great and general defec
tion which preceded the flood. The church of God, in all
probability, was small, in comparison with the rest of the
world, from the time that mankind began to multiply ; or
from the time, (Gen iv. 16.) " When Cain went out from
the presence ofthe Lord, and dwelt in the land of Nod ;"
which being interpreted, is the land of banishment. The
church seems to have been kept up chiefly in the posterity
of Seth : for this was the seed that God appointed instead
of Abel whom Cain slew. But we cannot reasonably
suppose that Seth's posterity were one fiftieth part of the
world : " For Adam was one hundred and thirty years old
when Seth was born." But Cain, who seems to have been
the leader of those that were not of the church, was Adam's
eldest child, and probably was born soon after the fall,
which doubtless was soon after Adam's creation ; so that
there was time for Cain to have many sons before Seth was
born ; besides many other children, that probably Adam and
Eve had before this time, agreeably to God's blessing, " Be
fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth ;" and many

of these children might have children. The history of
Cain before Seth was born, seems to irnply, that there
were great numbers of men on the earth : Gen. iv. 14, 15.
" Behold, thou hast driven me out this day from the face
of the earth : and from thy face shall I be hid, and I shall
be a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth ; and it shall come
to pass, that every one that findeth me shall slay me. And
the Lord said unto him, Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain,
vengeance shall be taken on him seven-fold. And the
Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should
kill him." And all who existed when Seth was born, must
be supposed to stand in equal capacity of multiplying their
posterity with him ; and therefore, Seth's posterity were
but a small part of the inhabitants of the world.
But after the days of Enos and Enoch, (for Enoch was
translated before Enos died,) the church of God greatly
diminished, in proportion as multitudes of the line of Seth,
born in the church of God, fell away, and joined with the
wicked world, principally by means of intermarriages with
them; as Gen. vi. 1, 2, 4. " And it came to pass, when
men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and
daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw
the daughters of men, that they were fair ; and they took
them wives of all which they chose. — There were giants in
the earth in those days ; and also after that, when the sons
of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare
children to them, the same became mighty men, which
were of old men of renown." By the sons qf God here,
are doubtless meant the children of the church. It is a
denomination often given them in Scripture. They inter
married with the wicked world, and so had their hearts
led away from God ; and there was a great and continual
defection from the church. The church, that used to be a
restraint on the wicked world, diminished exceedingly, and
so wickedness went on without restraint. Satan, that old
serpent the devil, that tempted our first parents, and set
up himself as the God of this world, raged exceedingly ;
and every imagination of the thoughts of man's heart was
only evil continually, and the earth was filled with violence.
It seemed to be deluged with wickedness then, as it was
with water afterwards ; and mankind in general were
swallowed up in it. And now Satan made a most violent
and potent attempt to devour the church of God ; and had
almost done it. But yet God restored it in the midst of all
this flood of wickedness and violence. He kept it up in
that line of which Christ was to proceed. He would not
suffer it to be destroyed, for a blessing was in it. There
was a particular family, a root whence the branch of righte
ousness was afterwards to shoot forth. And therefore,
however the branches were lopped off, and the tree seemed
to be destroyed ; yet God, in the midst of all, kept alive
this root, by his wonderful redeeming power and grace, so
that the gates of hell could not prevail against it.
Thus I have shown how God carried on the great affair
of redemption ; how the building went on during this first
period, from the fall of man, till God brought the flood on
the earth. And I would observe, that though the Mosaic
history during that space be very short, yet it is exceed
ingly comprehensive and instructive. And it may also be
profitable for us here to observe, the efficacy of that pur
chase of redemption which had such great effects so many
ages before Christ actually appeared.

PART II.
FROM THE FLOOD TO THE CALLING OF ABRAHAM.
I proceed now to show how the same work was carried
on from the beginning of the flood till the calling of Abra
ham. For though that mighty, universal deluge overthrew
the world : yet it did not overthrow this building of God,
the work of redemption. This went on; and instead of
being overthrown, continued to be built up, in order to a
further preparation for the great Saviour's coming into the
world, for the redemption for his people.
I. The flood itself was a work of God that belonged to
this great affair, and tended to promote it. All the mighty

Part II.

FROM THE FLOOD TO THE CALLING OF ABRAHAM.

541

works of God from the fall of man to the end of the world,
are reducible to this work ; and if seen in a right view,
will appear as parts of it ; and so many steps for carrying it
on ; and doubtless so great a work, so'remarkable an'd uni
versal a catastrophe, as the deluge was, cannot be except
ed. Thereby God removed out of the way the enemies
and obstacles that were ready to overthrow it.
Satan seems to have been in a dreadful rage just before
the flood, and his rage then doubtless was, as it always
has been, chiefly against the church of God to overthrow
it; and he had filled the earth with violence and rage
against it. He had drawn over almost all the world to be
on his side, and they listed under his banner against Christ
and his church. We read, that the earth was filled with
violence ; and doubtless that violence was chiefly against
the church, in fulfilment of what was foretold, I will put
enmity between thy seed and her seed. Their enmity and
violence was so great, and the enemies of the church so
numerous, the whole world being against it, that it was
come to the last extremity. Noah's reproofs, and his
preaching of righteousness, were utterly disregarded.
God's Spirit had striven with them a hundred and twenty
years, but all in vain ; and the church was reduced to so
narrow limits, as to be confined to one family. There was
no prospect of any thing else but of their totally swallow
ing up the church, and that in a very little time ; and so
wholly destroying that small root that had the blessing in
it, whence the Redeemer was to proceed.
And therefore, God's destroying those enemies of the
church by the flood belongs to this affair of redemption ;
for it was one thing that was done in fulfilment of the
covenant of grace, as it was revealed to Adam : " I will
put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy
seed and her seed ; it shall bruise thy head." This was only
a destruction of the seed of the serpent in the midst of their
most violent rage against the seed of the woman, when in
the utmost peril by them.
We read in Scripture of scarce any destruction of nations
but that one main reason given for it is, their enmity and
injuries against God's church ; and doubtless this was one
main reason of the destruction of all nations by the flood.
The giants that were in those days, in all likelihood, got
themselves renown by their great exploits against heaven,
and against Christ and his church, the remaining sons of
God that had not corrupted themselves.
We read, that just before the world shall be destroyed
by fire, " the nations that are in the four quarters of the
earth, shall gather together against the church as the sand
of the sea, and shall go up on the breadth of the earth, and
compass the camp ofthe saints about, and the beloved city ;
and then fire shall come down from God out of heaven,
and devour them," Rev. xx. 8, 9. And it seems there
was that which was very parallel to it, just before the world
was destroyed by water. And therefore their destruction
was a work of God that did as much belong to the work
of redemption, as the destruction of the Egyptians be
longed to the redemption of the children of Israel out of
Egypt, or as the destruction of Sennacherib's mighty army,
that had compassed about Jerusalem to destroy it, belong
ed to God's redemption of that city from them.
By means of this flood, all the enemies of God's church,
against whom that little handful had no strength, were
swept off at once. God took their part, appeared for them
against their enemies, and drowned those of whom they
had been afraid, in the flood of water, as he drowned the
enemies of Israel that pursued them in the Red sea.
Indeed God could have taken other methods to deliver
his church : he could have converted all the world instead
of drowning it ; and so he could have taken another method
than drowning the Egyptians in the Red sea. But that is
no argument, that the method he did take, was not a
method to show his redeeming mercy to them.
By the deluge the enemies of God's people were dis
possessed of the earth, and the whole earth was given to
Noah and his family to possess it in quiet; as God made
room for the Israelites in Canaan,hy casting out their ene
mies from before them. And God thus taking the posses
sion of the enemies of the church, and giving it all to his
church, was agreeable to that promise of the covenant of
grace : Ps. xxxvii. 9—11. " For evil-doers shall be cut off:

but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the
earth. For yet a little while and the wicked shall not be :
yea, thou shalt diligently consider his place, and it shall
not be. But the meek shall inherit the earth, and shall
delight themselves in the abundance of peace."
II. Another thing belonging to the same work, was God's
wonderfully preserving that family of which the Redeemer
was to proceed, when all the rest of the world was drown
ed. God's drowning the world, and saving Noah and his
family, were both reducible to this great work. The sav
ing of Noah and his family belonged to it two ways, vis.
as from that family the Redeemer was to proceed, and it
was the mystical body of Christ that was there saved.
The manner of saving those persons, when all the world
besides was so overthrown, was very wonderful. It was
a wonderful type of the redemption of Christ, of that re
demption that is sealed by the baptism of water, and is so
spoken of in the New Testament, as 1 Pet. iii. 20, 21.
" Which sometimes were disobedient, when once the long-
suffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark
was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls, were
saved by water. The like figure whereunto, even baptism,
doth also now save us, (not the putting away of the filth of
the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience towards
God,) by the resurrection of Jesus Christ." That water
which washed away the filth of the world, that cleared the
world of wicked men, was a type of the blood of Christ,
that takes away the sin of the world. That water which
delivered Noah and his sons froni their enemies, is a type
of the blood that delivers God's church from their sins,
their worst enemies. That water which was so plentiful
and abundant, that it filled the world, and reached above
the tops of the highest mountains, was a type of that blood,
which is sufficient for the whole world ; sufficient to bury
the highest mountains of sin. The ark, that was the refuge
and hiding-place of the church in this time of storm and
flood, was a type of Christ, the true hiding-place of the
church from the storms and floods of God's wrath.
III. The next thing I would observe is, the new grant
of the earth God made to Noah and his family immediate
ly after the flood, as founded on the covenant of grace.
The sacrifice of Christ was represented by Noah's building
an altar to the Lord, and offering a sacrifice of every clean
beast, and every clean fowl. And we have an account of
God accepting this sacrifice : and thereupon he blessed
Noah, and established his covenant with him, and with his
seed, promising to destroy the earth in like manner no
more ; signifying that it is by the sacrifice of Christ, God's
favour is obtained, and his people are in safety from de
stroying judgments, and obtain the blessing ofthe Lord.
And God now, on occasion of this sacrifice that Noah offer
ed, gives him and his posterity a new grant of the earth ; a
new power of dominion over the creatures, as founded on
that sacrifice, and so founded on the covenant of grace. And
so it is to be looked upon as a different grant from that which
was made to Adam, Gen. i. 28. " And God blessed them,
and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and
replenish the earth, and subdue it ; and have dominion over
the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over
every living thing that moveth upon the earth." That
grant was not founded on the covenant of grace ; for it was
given to Adam while he was under the covenant of works,
and therefore was antiquated when that covenant ceased.
Hence it came to pass, that the earth was taken away from
mankind by the flood : for the first grant was forfeited ;
and God had never made another after that, till after the
flood. If the first covenant had not been broken, God
never would have drowned the world, and so have taken it
away from mankind ; for then the first grant made to man
kind would have stood good. But that being broken, God
after a while destroyed the earth, when the wickedness of
man was great.
But after the flood, on Noah's offering a sacrifice that
represented the sacrifice of Christ, God in smelling a
sweet savour, or accepting the sacrifice — as it was a re
presentation of the true sacrifice of Christ, which is a sweet
savour indeed to God — gives Noah a new grant of the
earth, founded on that covenant of grace which is by the
sacrifice of Christ, with a promise annexed, that now the
earth should no more be destroyed, till the consummation

542

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

of all things; (Gen. viii. 20—22. and chap. ix. 1—3,7.)
The reason why such a promise, that God would no more
destroy the earth, was added to this grant made to Noah, and
not to that made to Adam, was because this was founded
on the covenant of grace, of which Christ was the surety,
and therefore could not be broken. And therefore it comes
to pass now, that though the wickedness of man has
dreadfully raged, and the earth has been filled with vio
lence and wickedness, one age after another, and much
more dreadful and aggravated wickedness, being against
so much greater light and mercy ; especially in these days
of the gospel : yet God's patience holds out ; God does
not destroy the earth : his mercy and forbearance abides
according to his promise ; and his grant established with
Noah and his sons abides firm and good, being founded on
the covenant of grace.
IV. On this God renews with Noah and his sons the
covenant of grace, Gen. ix. 9, 10. " And I, behold, I
establish my covenant with you, and with your seed after
you, and with every living creature that is with you,"&c;
which was the covenant of grace ; of which even the brute
creation have this benefit, that it shall never be destroyed
again until the consummation of all things. By this ex
pression in Scripture, my covenant, is commonly to be un
derstood the covenant of grace. The manner of expres
sion, I will establish my covenant with you, and with your
seed after you, shows plainly, that it was a covenant already
in being, and that Noah would understand by that de
nomination the covenant of grace.
V. God's disappointing the design of building the city
and tower of Babel belongs to the great work of redemp
tion. For that was undertaken in opposition of this great
building of God of which we are speaking. Men's going
about to build such a city and tower was an effect of the
corruption into which mankind were now fallen. This city
and tower was set up in opposition to the city of God, as
the god to whom they built it, was their pride. Being
sunk into a disposition to forsake the true God, the first
idol they set up in his room, was their own feme. And as
this city and tower had their foundation laid in the pride and
vanity of men, and the haughtiness of their minds, so it
was built on a foundation exceedingly contrary to the nature
of the kingdom of Christ, and his redeemed city, which
has its foundation laid in humility.
Therefore God saw that it tended to frustrate the design
of that great building which was founded in Christ's hu
miliation : and therefore the thing displeased the Lord,
and he baffled and confounded the design. God will frus
trate and confound all other designs, that are set up in op
position to the great work of redemption.
Isaiah, (chap, ii.) representing God setting up the king
dom of Christ in the world, foretells how, in order to it,
he will bring down the haughtiness of men, and how the
day of the Lord shall be on every high tower, and upon
every fenced wall, &c. Christ's kingdom is established, by
bringing down every high thing to make way for it, 2 Cor.
x. 4, 5. " For the weapons of our warfare are mighty
through God, to the pulling down of strong holds, casting
down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth it
self against the knowledge of God." What is done in a
particular soul, to make way for the setting up of Christ's
kingdom, is to destroy Babel in that soul.
They intended to have built Babel up to heaven. How
ever, that building of which we speak shall reach to heaven
indeed, the highest heavens, at the end ofthe world, when
it shall be finished : and therefore God would not suffer
the building of his enemies, in opposition to it, to prosper.
If they had prospered in building that city and tower, it
might have kept the world of wicked men, the enemies of
the church, together, as that was their design. They might
have remained united in one vast, powerful city ; and so
have been too powerful for the city of God.
This Babel is tbe same with the city of Babylon ; for
Babylon in the original is Babel. But Babylon is always
spoken of in Scripture as chiefly opposite to the city of
God, as a powerful and terrible enemy, notwithstanding
this great check put to the building of it in the beginning.
But it probably would have been vastly more powerful, and

able to vex if not to destroy the church of God, if it had
not been thus checked.
Thus it was in kindness to his church, and in prosecution
of the great design of redemption, that God put a stop to
the building of the city and tower of Babel.
VI. The dispersing of the nations, and dividing the earth
among its inhabitants, immediately after God had caused
the building of Babel to cease. This was done so as most
to suit the great design of redemption. And particularly,
God therein had an eye to the future propagation of the
gospel among the nations. They were so placed, their
habitation so limited, round about the land of Canaan, as
most suited that design. Deut. xxxii. 8. " When the
Most High divided to the nations their inheritance, when
he separated the sons of Adam, he set the bounds of the
people according to the number of the children of Israel."
Acts xvii. 26, 27. " And hath made of one blood all na
tions of men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and
hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds
of their habitation ; that they should seek the Lord, if haply
they might feel after him, and find him." The land of
Canaan was the most conveniently situated of any place
in the world, for the purpose of spreading revealed light
among the nations in general. The Roman empire," the
chief part of the civilized world, in the apostolic age, was
in the countries round about Jerusalem. The devii seeing
the advantage of this situation of the nations for promoting
the great work of redemption, and the disadvantage of it
with respect to the interests of his kingdom, afterward led
away many nations into the remotest parts of the world, to
get them out ofthe way of the gospel. Thus he led some
into America; and others into northern cold regions, that
are almost inaccessible.
VII. Another thing I would mention in this period, was
God's preserving the true religion in that line from which
Christ was to proceed, when the world in general aposta
tized to idolatry, and the church was in imminent danger
of being swallowed in the general corruption. Although
God had lately wrought so wonderfully for the deliverance
of his church, and had shown so great mercy towards it,
as for its sake even to destroy all the rest of the world ;
and although he had lately renewed and established his
covenant of grace with Noah and his sons ; yet so prone
is the corrupt heart of man to depart from God, and to
sink into the depths of wickedness, darkness, and delusion,
that the world soon after the flood fell into gross idolatry ;
so that before Abraham the distemper was become almost
universal. The earth was become very corrupt at the time
of the building of Babel ; even God's people themselves,
that line of which Christ was to come. Josh. xxiv. 2.
" Your fathers dwelt on the other side of the flood in old
time, even Terah the father of Abraham, and the father of
Nahor ; and they served other gods." The other side of
the flood means beyond the river Euphrates, where the an
cestors of Abraham lived.
We are not to understand, that they were wholly drawn
off to idolatry, to forsake the true God. For God is said
to be the God of Nahor: Gen. xxxi. 53. " The God of
Abraham, and the God of Nahor, the God of their father,
judge betwixt us." But they partook in some measure ofthe
general and almost universal corruption of the times ; as
Solomon was in a measure infected with idolatrous cor
ruption; and as the children of Israel in Egypt are said
to serve other gods, though there was the true church of
God among them ; and as there were images kept for a
considerable time in the family of Jacob, the corruption
being brought from Padan-Aram, whence he fetched his
wives. This was the second time that the church was almost
brought to nothing by the corruption and general defection
of the world from true religion. But still the true religion
was kept up in the family from which Christ was to proceed.
Which is another instance of God's remarkably preserving
his church in a time of a general deluge of wickedness ; and
wherein, although the god of this world raged, and had
almost swallowed up God's church, yet he did not suffer
the gates of hell to prevail against it.

Part III.

FROM ABRAHAM TO MOSES.

543

PART 111.
FROM THE CALLING OF ABRAHAM TO MOSES.
I proceed now to show how the work of redemption
was carried on from the calling qf Abraliam to Moses.
And, I. It pleased God now to separate that person of whom
Christ was to come, from the rest of the world, that his
church might be upheld in his family and posterity till
that time, lie called Abraham out of his own country,
and from his kindred, to go into a distant country, that
God should show him ; and brought him first out of Ur
of the Chaldees to Charran, and then to the land of
Canaan. It was before observed, that the idolatrous corruption of
the world was now become general ; mankind were , al
most wholly overrun with idolatry. God therefore saw it
necessary, in order to uphold true religion in the world,
that there should be a family separated from all others. It
proved to be high time to take this course, lest the church
of Christ should wholly be carried away with the apos
tacy. For Abraham's own country and kindred had most
of them fallen off; and without some extraordinary inter
position of Providence, in all likelihood, in a generation
or two more, the true religion in this line would have been
extinct. And therefore God called Abraham, the person
in whose family he intended to uphold the true religion,
out of his own country, and from his kindred, to a far
distant country, that his posterity might there remain a
people separate from all the rest of the world ; that so the
true religion might be upheld there, while all mankind
besides were swallowed up in heathenism.
The land of the Chaldees, whence Abraham was called,
was the country about Babel. Babel, or Babylon, was
the chief city of Chaldea. Learned men suppose by what
they gather from the most ancient accounts of things, that
it was in this land idolatry first began ; that Babel and
Chaldea were the original and chief seats of the worship
of idols, whence it spread into other nations. And there
fore the land of the Chaldeans, the country of Babylon, is
in Scripture called the land of graven images ; Jer. 1. 35,
38. " A sword is upon the Chaldeans, saith the Lord, and
upon the inhabitants of Babylon, and upon her princes,
and upon her wise men. — A drought is upon her waters,
and they shall be dried up ; for it is the land of graven
images, and they are mad upon their idols." God calls
Abraham out of this idolatrous country, to a great distance
from it. And when he came there, he gave him no in
heritance in it, no not so much as to set his foot on ; but
he remained a stranger and a sojourner, that he and his
family might be kept separate from all the world.
This was a new thing : God had never taken such a
method before. His church had not in this manner been
separated from the rest of the world till now ; but were
wont to dwell with them, without any bar or fence to keep
them separate ; the mischievous consequence of which
had been found once and again. Before the flood, the
effect of God's people living intermingled with the wicked
world, without any remarkable wall of separation, was,
that the sons ofthe church joined in marriage with others,
and thereby almost all soon became infected, and the
church was almost brought to nothing. The method that
God then took to fence the church was, to drown the
wicked world, and save the church in the ark. Before
Abraham was called, the world was become corrupt again.
But now God took another method ; he did not destroy
the wicked world, and save Abraham, and his wife, and
Lot, but calls these persons to go and live separate from
the rest of the world.
This was a new and great thing, that God did toward
the work of redemption. It was about the middle of the
space of time between the fell of man and the coming of
Christ ; about two thousand years before the great Re
deemer was to appear. But by this calling of Abraham,
the ancestor of Christ, a foundation was laid for uphold
ing the church in the world, till Christ should come. For
the world having become idolatrous, there was a necessity

in order to this, that the seed of the woman should be
thus separated from it.
And then it was needful that there should be a particu
lar nation separated from the rest of the world, to receive
the types and prophecies that were to be given of Christ,
to prepare the way for his coming ; that to them might be
committed the oracles of God ; that by them the history
of God's great works of creation and providence might be
preserved ; that Christ might be bom of this nation ; and
that from hence the light of the gospel might shine forth
to the rest of the world. These ends could not well be
obtained, if God's people, through all these two thousand
years, had lived intermixed with the heathen world. So
that the calling of Abraham may be looked upon as a
kind of new foundation laid for the visible church of God,
in a more distinct and regular state. Abraham, being the
person in whom this foundation is laid, is represented in
Scripture as though he were the father of all the church,
the father of all them that believe ; a root whence the
visible church rose as a tree, distinct from all other plants.
Of this tree Christ was the branch of righteousness ; and
from it, after Christ came, the natural branches were
broken off, and the Gentiles were grafted in. So that
Abraham still remains the father, the root of the church.
It is the same tree which, from that small beginning in
Abraham's time, has in these days of the gospel spread its
branches over a great part of the earth, and will fill the
whole in due time, and at the end of the world shall be
transplanted from an earthly soil into the paradise of God.
II. There accompanied this a more particular and full
revelation and confirmation of the covenant of grace than
ever before. There had been before this two particular
and solemn editions or confirmations of this covenant ;
one, to our first parents, soon after the fall ; the other, to
Noah and his family, soon after the flood. And now there
is a third, at and after the calling of Abraham. It is now
revealed to Abraham, not only that Christ should come ;
but that he should be his seed ; and promised, that all the
families of the earth should be blessed in him. And God
repeated the promises of this to Abraham. The first
promise was when he first called him, Gen. xii. 2. " And
I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee,
and make thy name great ; and thou shalt be a blessing."
The same promise was renewed after he came into the
land of Canaan, (chap. xiii. 14, &c.) Again after Abra
ham had returned from the slaughter of the kings, (chap.
xv. 5, 6.) And a fourth time, after his offering up Isaac,
(chap. xxii. 16 — 18.)
In this renewal of the covenant of grace with Abraham,
several particulars concerning it were revealed more fully
than before ; not only that Christ was to be of Abraham's
seed, but also, the calling of the Gentiles, that all nations
should be brought into the church, all the families of the
earth made blessed. And then the great condition of the
covenant of grace, which is faith, was now more fully made
known. Gen. xv. 5, 6. " And he said unto him, So shall
thy seed be. And Abraham believed God, and it was
counted unto him for righteousness." Which is much
noticed in the New Testament, as that for which Abraham
was called the father of believers.
And as there was now a further revelation ofthe covenant
of grace, so there was a further confirmation of it by seals
and pledges ; particularly, circumcision, which was a seal
of the covenant of grace, as appears by the first institution
of it, Gen. xvii. It there appears to be a seal of that
covenant by which God promised to make Abraham a
father of many nations, (ver. 5, 9, 10.) And we are
expressly taught, that it was a seal qf righteousness of
faith, Rom. iv. 11. Speaking of Abraham, the apostle
says, he received the sign qf circumcision, a seal of the
righteousness of faith.
Abraham's family and posterity must be kept separate
from the rest of the world, till Christ should come ; and
this sacrament was the principal wall of separation.
Besides, God gave Abraham a remarkable pledge of the
fulfilment of the promise he had made him, in his victory
over Chedorlaomer and the kings that were with him.
Chedorlaomer seems to have been a great emperor, who
reigned over a great part of the world at that day ; and
though he had his seat at Elam, which was not much, if

544

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

any thing, short of a thousand miles distant from the land
of Canaan, yet he extended his empire so as to reign over
many parts "of the land of Canaan, as appears by chap.
xiv. "4  7. It is supposed by learned men, that he was a
king of the Assyrian empire at that day, which had been
before begun by Nimrod at Babel. And as it was the
honour of kings in those days to build cities for the seat
of their empire, (Gen. x. 10—12.) so it is conjectured,
that he had gone forth and built him a city in Elam, and
made that his seat ; and that those other kings who came
with him, were his deputies in the several cities and
countries where they reigned . But yet as mighty an empire
as he had, and as great an army as he came with, Abra
ham, only with his trained servants, that were born in his
house, conquered and subdued this mighty emperor, the
kings that came with him, and all their army. This he
received of God as a pledge of what he had promised,
viz. the victory that Christ his seed should obtain over the
nations of the earth, whereby he should possess the gates
of his enemies. It is plainly spoken of as such in the
41st of Isaiah. In that chapter is foretold the future glo
rious victory the church shall obtain over the nations of the
world, (ver. 1, 10, 15.) This victory of Abraham over
such a great emperor and his mighty forces, is spoken of
as a pledge and earnest of victory to the church, (ver. 2,
3.) "Who raised up the righteous man from the east,
called him to his foot, gave the nations before him, and
made him rule over kings ? He gave them as the dust to
his sword, and as driven stubble to his, bow. He pursued
them, and passed safely ; even by the way that he had
not gone with his feet."
Another remarkable confirmation Abraham received of
the covenant of grace, was when he returned from the
slaughter of the kings ; when Melchisedec the king of
Salem, the priest of the most high God, that great type of
Christ, met him, and blessed him, and brought forth bread
and wine. The bread and wine signified the same bless
ings of the covenant of grace, that the bread and wine
does in the sacrament of the Lord's supper. As Abraham
had a seal of the covenant in circumcision that was equi
valent to baptism, so now he had a seal of it equivalent
to the Lord s supper. And Melchisedec's coming to meet
him with such a seal of the covenant of grace, on the oc
casion of this victory, evinces, that it was a pledge of
God's fulfilment of the same covenant. (Gen. xiv. 19, 20.)
Another confirmation of the covenant of grace, was the
vision he had, in the deep sleep that fell upon him, of the
smoking furnace, and burning lamp, that passed between
the parts of the sacrifice, (Gen. xv.) The sacrifice signi
fied that of Christ. The smoking furnace that passed
through the midst of that sacrifice first, signified the suf
ferings of Christ. But the burning lamp that followed,
which shone with a clear bright light, signifies the glory
that followed Christ's sufferings, and was procured by them.
Another remarkable pledge that God gave Abraham of
the fulfilment of the covenant of grace, was his giving of
that child of whom Christ was to come, in his old age,
(Heb. xi. 11, 12. and Rom. iv. 18, &c.) and his delivering
Isaac, after he was lajd upon the wood of the sacrifice to
be slain. This was a confirmation of Abraham's faith in
the promise that God had made of Christ, that he should
be of Isaac's posterity ; and was a representation of the
resurrection of Christ. (Heb. xi. 17 — 19.) And because
this was given as a confirmation of the covenant of grace,
therefore God renewed that covenant with Abraham on
this occasion, (Gen. xxiv. 15, &c.)
Thus you see how much more fully the covenant of
grace was revealed and confirmed in Abraham's time than
ever it had been before ; by means of which Abraham
seems to have had a clear view of Christ the great Re
deemer, and the future things that were to be accomplished
by him. And therefore Christ informs us, that " Abraham
rejoiced to see his day, and he saw it, and was glad," John
viii. 56. So great an advance did it please God now to
make in this building, which he had been carrying on
from the beginning of the world.
III. The next thing is God's preserving the patriarchs
for so long a time in the midst of the wicked inhabitants
of Canaan, and from all other enemies. The patriarchs,
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, were those of whom Christ

was to proceed ; and thev were now separated from the
world, that in them his church might be upheld. There
fore, in preserving them, the great design of redemption
was carried on. He preserved them, and kept the inhabit
ants of the land where they sojourned from destroying
them; which was a remarkable dispensation of providence.
For the inhabitants of the land were at that day very
wicked, though they grew more wicked afterwards. This
appears by Gen. xv. 16. "In the fourth generation they
shall come hither again ; for the iniquity of the Canaanites
is not yet full :" as much as to say, though it be very
great, yet it is not yet full. And their great wickedness
also appears by Abraham and Isaac's aversion to their
children marrying any of the daughters of the land.
Abraham, when he was old, could not be content till he
had made his servant swear that he would not take a wife
for his son of the daughters of the land. And Isaac and
Rebecca were content to send away Jacob to so great a
distance as Padan-Aram, to take him a wife thence. And
when Esau married some of the daughters of the land,
we are told, that they were a grief qf mind to Isaac and
Rebecca. Another argument of their great wickedness, was the
instances we have in Sodom and Gomorrah, Admah and
Zeboim, which were some of the cities of Canaan, though
they were probably most notoriously wicked ; and likely
to have the most bitter enmity against these holy men;
agreeable to what was declared at first, " I will put enmity
between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and
her seed." Their holy lives were a continual condemnation
of their wickedness. Besides, it could not be otherwise,
but that they must be much in reproving their wickedness,
as we find Lot was in Sodom ; who, we are told, vexed
his righteous soul with their unlawful deeds, and was to
them a preacher of righteousness.
And they were the more exposed to them, being strangers
and sojourners in the land, and having as yet no inherit
ance there. Men are more apt to find fault with strangers,
and to be irritated by any thing in them that offends, as
they were with Lot in Sodom. He very gently reproved
their wickedness ; and they say upon it, " This fellow came
in to sojourn, and he will needs be a ruler and a judge ;"
and threatened what they would do to him.
But God wonderfully preserved Abraham and Lot,
Isaac and Jacob, and their families, amongst them, though
they were few in number, and they might quickly have
destroyed them ; which is taken notice of as a wonderful
instance of God's preserving mercy towards his church,
Psal. cv. 12, &c. "When they were but a few men in
number ; yea, very few, and strangers in it. When they
went from one nation to another, from one kingdom to
another people. He suffered no man to do them wrong ;
yea, he reproved kings for their sakes, saying, Touch not
mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm. '
This preservation was, in some instances especially,
very remarkable ; when the people of the land were greatly
irritated and provoked; as they were by Simeon and
Levi's treatment of the Shechemites, in Gen. xxxiv. 30,
&c. God then strangely preserved Jacob and his family,
restraining the provoked people by an unusual terror on
their minds, Gen. xxxv. 5. "And the terror of God was
upon the cities that were round about them, and they did
not pursue after the sons of Jacob."
And God preserved them, not only from the Canaanites,
but from all others that intended mischief to them. He
preserved Jacob and his company, when pursued by Laban,
full of rage, and a disposition to overtake him as an
enemy. God met him, rebuked him, and said to him,
"Take heed that thou speak not to Jacob either good or
bad." How wonderfully did he also preserve him from
Esau his brother, when he came forth with an army, with
a full design to cut him off! How did God, in answer to
his prayer, when Jacob wrestled with Christ at Penuel,
wonderfully turn Esau's heart, and make him, instead of
meeting him as an enemy with slaughter and destruction,
to meet him as a friend and brother, doing him no harm !
And thus was this handful, this little root that had the
blessing of the Redeemer in it, preserved in the midst of
enemies and dangers ; which was not unlike to preserving
the ark in the midst of the tempestuous deluge.

Part III.

FROM ABRAHAM TO MOSES.

545

IV. The next thing I would mention is, the awful de
struction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the neighbouring
cities. This tended to promote the great work designed
two ways : First, as it tended powerfully to restrain the
inhabitants of the land from injuring those holy strangers
that God had brought to sojourn amongst them." Lot was
one of those strangers ; he came into the land with Abra
ham ; and Sodom was destroyed for their abusive disre
gard of Lot, the preacher of righteousness. And their
destruction came upon their committing a most injurious
and abominable insult on Lot, and the strangers that were
come into his house, even those angels, whom they pro
bably took to be some of Lot's former acquaintance come
to visit him. They in a most outrageous manner beset
Lot's house, intending a monstrous abuse and act of vio
lence on those strangers, and threatening to serve Lot
worse than them.
But in the midst of this God smote them with blind
ness; and the next morning the city and the country
about it was overthrown in a most terrible storm of fire
and brimstone ; which dreadful destruction, as it was in
the sight of the rest of the inhabitants of the land, and
therefore greatly tended to restrain them from hurting
those holy strangers any more ; it doubtless struck a
dread and terror on their minds, and made them afraid to
hurt them, and probably was one principal means to re
strain them, and preserve the patriarchs. And when that
reason is given, why the inhabitants of the land did not
pursue after Jacob, when they were so provoked by the
destruction of the Shechermtes, viz. that the terror qf the
Lord was upon them ; it is very probable, that this was the
terror which was set home upon them. They remembered
the amazing destruction of Sodom, and the cities of the
plain, that came upon them for their abusive treatment of
Lot, and so durst not hurt Jacob and his family, though
they were so much provoked to it.
Another way that this awful destruction tended to pro
mote this great affair of redemption, was, that hereby
God remarkably exhibited the terrors of his law, to make
men sensible of their need of redeeming mercy. The
work of redemption never was carried on without this.
The law, from the beginning, is made use of as a school
master to bring men to Christ.
But under the Old Testament there was much more
need of some extraordinary, visible, and sensible mani
festation of God's wrath against sin, than in the days of
the gospel ; since a future state, and the eternal misery of
hell, is more clearly revealed, and since the awful justice
of God against the sins of men has been so wonderfully
displayed in the sufferings of Christ. And therefore the
revelation that God gave of himself in those days, used to
be accompanied with much more terror than it is in these
days of the gospel. So when God appeared at mount
Sinai to give the law, it was with thunders and lightnings,
and a thick cloud, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding
loud. Some external, awful manifestations of God's wrath
against sin were on some accounts especially necessary
before the giving of the law: and therefore, before the
flood, the terrors of the law handed down by tradition
from Adam served for that purpose. Adam lived nine
hundred and thirty years himself, to proclaim God's aw
ful threatenings denounced in the covenant made with
him, and how dreadful the consequences ofthe fall were ;
and others, .that conversed with Adam, lived till the flood.
And the destruction of the world by the flood served to
exhibit the terrors of the law, and manifested the wrath of
God against sin ; in order to make men sensible of the
absolute necessity of redeeming mercy. And some that
saw the flood were alive in Abraham's time.
But this was now in a great measure forgotten; there
fore God was pleased again, in a most amazing manner,
to show his wrath against sin, in the destruction of these
cities ; which was the liveliest image of hell of any thing
that ever had been ; and therefore the apostle Jude says,
" They suffer the vengeance of eternal fire," Jude 7. God
rained storms of fire and brimstone upon them ; probably
by thick flashes of lightning. The streams of brimstone
burnt up all these cities ; so that they perished in the
flames of divine wrath. By this might be seen the dread
ful wrath of God against the ungodliness and unrighte-
vol. i. 2 N

ousness of men ; which tended to show the necessity of
redemption, and so to promote that great work.
V. God again renewed and confirmed the covenant of
grace to Isaac and Jacob. To Isaac in these words ;
Gen. xxvi. 3, 4. " And I will perform the oath which I
sware unto Abraham thy father; and I will make thy
seed to multiply as the stars of heaven, and will give unto
thy seed all these countries; and in thy seed shall all the
nations of the earth be blessed." And afterwards to Jacob ;
first, in Isaac blessing him and his seed, wherein he acted
and spoke by extraordinary divine direction, Gen. xxvii.
29. "Let people serve thee, and nations bow down to
thee ; be lord over thy brethren, and let thy mother's sons
bow down to thee : Cursed be every one that curseth thee,
and blessed be he that blesseth thee." And therefore
Esau, not included in this blessing, missed 'of being blessed
as an heir of the benefits of the covenant of grace.
This covenant was again renewed and confirmed to
Jacob at Bethel, in his vision of the ladder that reached to
heaven ; which was a symbol of the way of salvation by
Christ. The stone that Jacob rested on was a type of
Christ, the stone of Israel, which the spiritual Israel rests
upon ; as is evident, because it was anointed, and made
use of as an altar. But we know that Christ is the
anointed of God, and is the only true altar. While Jacob
was resting on this stone, and saw this ladder, God appears
to him as his covenant God, and renews the covenant of
grace with him ; as in Gen. xxviii. 14. " And thy seed
shall be as the dust of the earth ; and thou shalt spread
abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and
to the south ; and in thee and in thy seed shall all the
families of the earth be blessed."
Jacob had another remarkable confirmation of this cove
nant at Penuel, where he wrestled with God, and prevail
ed; where Christ appeared to him in the form of that
nature which he was afterwards to receive in a personal
union with his divine nature. — And God renewed his
covenant with him again, after he left Padan-Aram, and
was come up to Bethel, and where he had the vision of
the ladder; as you may see in Gen. xxxv. 10, &c.
Thus the covenant of grace was now renewed much of
tener than it had been before. The light of the gospel
now began to shine much brighter, as the time of Christ's
appearing drew nearer.
VI. The next thing I would observe, is God's remark
ably preserving the family of which Christ was to proceed
from perishing by famine, by the instrumentality of Joseph.
When there was a seven-years famine approaching, God
was pleased, by a wonderful providence, to send Joseph
into Egypt, there to provide for Jacob and his family, and
to keep the holy seed alive, which otherwise would have
perished. Joseph was sent into Egypt for that end, as he
observes, Gen. 1. 20. " But as for you, ye thought evil
against me ; but God meant it unto good, to save much
people alive." How often had this holy root, that had in
it the future branch of righteousness, the glorious
Redeemer, been in danger of being destroyed ! But
God wonderfully preserved it.
This salvation of the house of Israel, by the hand of
Joseph, was upon some accounts very much a resemblance
of the salvation of Christ. The children. of Israel were
saved by Joseph their kinsman and brother, from perish
ing by famine ; as he that saves the souls of the spiritual
Israel from spiritual famine is their near kinsman, and one
that is not ashamed to call them brethren. Joseph was a
brother they had hated, sold, and as it were killed ; for
they had designed to kill him. So Christ is one that we
naturally hate, and by our wicked lives, have sold for the
vain things of the world, and by our sins have slain.
Joseph was first in a state of humiliation ; he was a
servant, as Christ appeared in the form of a servant ; and
then was cast into a dungeon, as Christ descended into the
grave. When he rose out of the dungeon, he was in a
state of great exaltation, at the king's right hand as his
deputy, to reign over all his kingdom, to provide food, to
preserve life ; and being in this state of exaltation, he dis
penses food to his brethren, and so gives them life. So
Christ was exalted at God's right hand to be a Prince and
Saviour to his brethren, received gifts for men, even for
the rebellious, them that had hated and sold him.

546

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

VII. After this tliere was a prophecy of Christ, on
some accounts more particular than any before, in Jacob's
blessing his son Judah. This was more particular as it
showed of whose posterity he was to be. When God
called Abraham, it was revealed that he was to be of
Abraham's posterity. Before, we have no account of any
revelation concerning Christ's pedigree confined to nar
rower limits than the posterity of Noah : after this it was
confined to still narrower limits ; for though Abraham
had many sons, yet it was revealed, that Christ was to be
of Isaac's posterity. And then it was limited still more ;
for when Isaac haij two sons, it was revealed that Christ
was to be of Israel's posterity. And now, though Israel
had twelve sons, yet it is revealed that Christ should be of
Judah's posterity. Christ is the lion ofthe tribe of Judah.
Respect is chiefly had to his great acts, when it is said
here, Gen. xlix. 8. "Judah, thou art he whom thy
brethren shall praise ; thy hand shall be in the neck of
thine enemies ; thy father's children shall bow down be
fore thee. Judah is a lion's whelp ; from the prey, my
son, thou art gone up : he stooped down, he couched as a
lion, and as an old lion ; who shall rouse him up ?" And
then this prediction is more particular concerning the time
of Christ's coming, as in ver. 10. " The sceptre shall not
depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet,
until Shiloh come ; and unto him shall the gathering of
the people be." The prophecy here, of the calling of the
Gentiles consequent on Christ s coming, seems to be more
plain than any had been before, in the expression, "to
him shall the gathering of the people be." Thus you see
how that gospel-light which dawned immediately after the
fall of man, gradually increases.
VIII. The work of redemption was carried on in this
period, in God's wonderfully preserving the children of
Israel in Egypt, when the power of Egypt was engaged
utterly to destroy them. They seemed to be wholly in the
hands of the Egyptians ; they were their servants, and
were subject to the power of Pharaoh : and Pharaoh set
himself to weaken them with hard bondage. And when
he saw that did not do, he set himself to extirpate their
race, by commanding that every male child should be
drowned. But after all that Pharaoh could do, God
wonderfully preserved them ; and not only so, but in
creased them exceedingly ; so that, instead of being extir
pated, they greatly multiplied.
IX. Here is to be observed, not only the preservation
of the nation, but God's wonderfully preserving and up
holding his invisible church in that nation, when in danger
of being overwhelmed in the idolatry of Egypt. The
children of Israel being long among the Egyptians, and
servants under them, and so not having advantages to keep
God's ordinances among themselves, and maintain any
public worship or instruction, whereby the true religion
might be upheld, and there being now no written word,
they by degrees, in a great measure, lost the true religion,
and borrowed the idolatry of Egypt ; and the greater part
of the people fell away to the worship of their gods.
This we learn by Ezek. xx. 6, 7, 8. and by chap, xxiii. 8.
This now was the third time that God's church was
almost swallowed up and carried away with the wicked
ness of the world ; once before the flood ; the other time,
before the calling of Abraham ; and now, the third time,
in Egypt. But yet God did not suffer his church to be
quite overwhelmed : he still saved it, like the ark in the
flood, and as he saved Moses in the midst of the waters,
in an ark of bulrushes, where he was in the utmost danger
of being swallowed up. The true religion was still kept
up with some ; and God had still a people among them,
even in this miserable, corrupt, and dark time. The
Iiarents of Moses were true servants of God, as we may
earn by Heb. xi. 23. " By faith Moses, when he was born,
was hiii three months of his parents, because they saw
that he was a proper child ; and they were not afraid of
the king's commandment."
I have now shown how the work of redemption was
carried on from the calling of Abraham to Moses ; in
which we have seen many great things done towards this
work, and a great advancement of this building, beyond
what had preceded.

PART IV.
FROM MOSES TO DAVID.
I proceed to the time which reaches from Moses to
David. I. The first thing that offers itself is the redemption of
the church of God out of Egypt ; the most remarkable of
all in the Old Testament, the greatest pledge and fore
runner of the future redemption by Christ, and much more
insisted on in Scripture than any other of those redemp
tions. And indeed it was the greatest type of Christ's
redemption of any providential event whatsoever. This
was by Jesus Christ, for it was wrought by him who
appeared to Moses in the bush; the person that sent
Moses to redeem that people. But that was Christ, as is
evident, because he is called the angel qf the Lord, Exod.
iii. 2, 3. The bush represented "the' human nature of
Christ, who is called the branch. This bush grew on
mount Sinai or Horeb, a word that signifies a dry place,-
as the human nature of Christ was a root out of a dry
ground. The bush burning with fire, represented the
sufferings of Christ, in the fire of God's wrath. It burn
ed, and was not consumed ; so Christ, though he suffered
extremely, yet perished not; but overcame at last, and
rose from his sufferings. Because this great mystery of
the incarnation and sufferings of Christ was here repre
sented, therefore Moses says, I will turn aside, and behold
this great sight. A great sight he might well call it, when
there was represented, God manifest in the flesh, suffering
a dreadful death, and rising from the dead.
This was the glorious Redeemer who redeemed the
church out of Egypt, from under %the hand of Pharaoh ;
as Christ, by his death and sufferings, redeemed his people
from Satan, the spiritual Pharaoh. He redeemed them
from hard service and cruel drudgery ; so Christ redeems
his people from the cruel slavery of sin and Satan. He
redeemed them, as it is said, from the iron furnace ; so
Christ redeems his church from a furnace of fire and ever
lasting burnings. — He redeemed them with a strong hand
and outstretched arm, and great and terrible judgments
on their enemies ; so Christ with mighty power triumphs
over principalities and powers, and executes terrible judg
ments on his church's enemies, bruising the serpent's head.
He saved them, when others were destroyed, by the
sprinkling of the blood of the paschal lamb ; so God's
church is saved from death by the sprinkling of the blood
of Christ, when the rest of the world is destroyed. God
brought forth the people sorely against the will of the
Egyptians, when they could not bear to let them go ; so
Christ rescues his people out of the hands of the devil,
sorely against his will, when his proud heart cannot bear
to be overcome.
In that redemption, Christ did not only redeem the
people from the Egyptians, but he redeemed them from
the devils, the gods of Egypt ; for before, they had been
in a state of servitude to the gods of Egypt, as well as to
the men. And Christ, the seed of the woman, did now,
in a very remarkable manner, fulfil the curse on the
serpent, in bruising his head : Exod. xii. 12. " For I will
pass through the land of Egypt this night, and will smite
all the first-bom in the land of Egypt, both man and beast,
and against all the gods of Egypt will I execute judg
ment." Hell was as much, nay more engaged in that
affair, than Egypt was. The pride and cruelty of Satan,
that old serpent, was more concerned in it than Pharaoh's:
He did his utmost against the people, and to his utmost
opposed their redemption. But it is said, that when God
redeemed his people out of Egypt, he " broke the heads
of the dragons in the waters, arid broke the head of levia
than in pieces, and gave him to be meat for the people in
habiting the wilderness," Ps. lxxiv. 12—14. God forced
their enemies to let them go, that they might serve him ;
as Zacharias observes with respect to the church under the
gospel, Luke i. 74, 75.
The people of Israel went out with a high hand, and
Christ went before them in a pillar of cloud and fire.
Tliere was a glorious triumph over earth and hell in that

Part IV.

FROM MOSES TO DAVID.

547

deliverance. When Pharaoh and his hosts, and Satan- by
them, pursued the people, Christ overthrew them in the
Red sea ; the Lord triumphed gloriously ; the horse and
his rider he cast into the sea, and there they slept then-
sleep, and never followed the children of Israel any more.
The Red sea represented Christ's blood, because the apostle
compares the children of Israel's passage through the Red
sea to baptism, 1 Cor. x. 1, 2.— But we all know that the
water of baptism represents Christ's blood.
Thus Christ, the angel of God's presence, in his love
and his pity, redeemed his people, akd carried them in the
days of old as on eagles' wings, so that none of their proud
and spiteful enemies, neither Egyptians nor devils, could
touch them.
This was quite a new thing that God did towards this
great work of redemption. God never had done any thing
like it before ; Deut. iv. 32, 34. This was a great ad
vancement of the work, that had been begun and carried
on from the fall of man ; a great step taken in Divine
Providence towards a preparation for Christ's coming into
the world, and working out his great and eternal redemp
tion : for this was the people of whom Christ was to come.
And now' we may see now that plant flourished which God
had planted in Abraham. Though the family of which
Christ was to come, had been in a degree separated from
the rest of the world before, in the calling of Abraham ;
yet that separation appeared not to be sufficient. For
though by that separation, they were kept, as strangers
and sojourners, from being united with other people in the
same political societies ; yet they remained mixed among
them, by which means they had been in danger of wholly
losing the true religion, and of being overrun with the
idolatry of their neighbours. God now, therefore, by this
redemption, separated them as a nation from all others, to
subsist by themselves in their own political and ecclesias
tical state, without having any concern with the heathen
nations, that the church of Christ might be upheld, and
might keep the oracles of God ; that in them might be
kept up those types and prophecies of Christ, and those
histories and other divine previous instructions, which were
necessary to prepare the way for Christ's coming.
II. As this people were separated to be God s peculiar
people, so all other people upon the fece of the whole
earth were wholly rejected and given over to heathenism.
This was one thing that God ordered in his providence
to prepare the way for Christ's coming, and the great
salvation he was to accomplish ; for it was only to pre
pare the way for the more glorious and signal victory and
triumph of Christ's power and grace over the wicked and
miserable world, and that Christ's salvation of mankind
might become the more sensible. This is the account the
Scripture itself gives us of the matter, Rom. xi. 30, 32.
The apostle, speaking to the Gentiles that had formerly
been heathens, says, " As ye in times past have not be
lieved God, yet have now obtained mercy through their
unbelief; even so have these also now not believed, that
through your mercy they also may obtain mercy. For
God hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might
have mercy upon all :" i. e. It was the will of God, that
the whole world, Jews and Gentiles, should be concluded
in visible and professed unbelief, that so God's mercy
and Christ's salvation towards them all might be visible.
For the apostle is not speaking only of that unbelief that is
natural to all God's professing people as well as others,
but that which appears, and is visible ; such as the Jews
fell into, when they openly rejected Christ, and ceased to
be a professing people. The apostle observes, how that
first the Gentiles, even the Gentile nations, were included
in a professed unbelief and open opposition to the true
religion, before Christ came, to prepare the way for the
calling of the Gentiles, which was soon after Christ came,
in order that God's mercy might be the more visible to
them ; and that the Jews were rejected, and apostatized
from the visible church, to prepare the way for the calling
ofthe Jews, which shall be in the latter days. So that it
may be seen concerning all nations, Jews and Gentiles,
that are redeemed by Christ, from being visibly aliens
from the commonwealth of Israel, without hope, and with
out God in the world.
We cannot certainly determine precisely at. what time
2 N 2

the apostacy of the Gentile nations from the true God, or
their being concluded in visible unbelief, became univer
sal. Their falling away was a gradual thing, as we ob
served before. It was general in Abraham's time, but not
universal : for then we find Melchizcdec, one of the kings
of Canaan, was priest of the most high God. And after
this the true religion was kept up for a while among some
of the rest of Abraham's posterity, besides the family of
Jacob ; and also in some of the posterity of Nahor, as we
have instances in Job, and his three friends, and Elihu.
The land of Uz, where Job lived, was possessed by the
posterity of Uz, or Huz, the son of Nahor, Abraham's
brother, of whom we read, Gen. xxii. 21. Bildad the
Shuhite was of the offspring of Shuah, Abraham's son by
Keturah, Gen. xxv. 1, 2. and Elihu the Buzite, was of
Buz the son of Nahor, the brother of Abraham. So the
true religion lasted among some otherpeople, besides the
Israelites, a while after Abraham. But it did not last
long: and it is probable that their total rejection, and
giving up to idolatry, was about the time when God
separated the children of Israel from Egypt to serve him.
For they are often put in mind on that occasion, that God
had now separated them to be his peculiar people ; or to
be distinguished from all other people upon earth, to be
his people alone ; to be his portion, when others were re
jected. This seems to imply, that God now chose them
in such a manner, as was accompanied with a visible re
jection of all other nations in the world ; that God visibly
came, and took up his residence with them, forsaking all
other nations. As the first calling of the Gentiles, after
Christ came, was accompanied with a rejection of the
Jews ; so the first calling of the Jews to be God's people,
when they left Egypt, was accompanied with a rejection
of the Gentiles.
Thus all the nations in the world, except the Israelites,
and those who embodied themselves with them, were given
up to idolatry ; and so continued till Christ came, which
was about fifteen hundred years. They were concluded
so long a time in unbelief, that there might be a thorough
Eroof of the necessity of a Saviour ; that it might appear
y so long a trial, past all contradiction, that mankind
were utterly insufficient to deliver themselves from that
gross darkness and misery, and subjection to the devil ;
that all the wisdom of the heathen philosophers could
not deliver them from their darkness, for the greater glory
to Jesus Christ, who, when he came, enlightened and de
livered them by his glorious gospel. Herein the wonderful
wisdom of God appeared, in thus preparing the way for
Christ's redemption. This the Scripture teaches us, 1 Cor.
i. 21 . " For after that, in the wisdom of God, the world
by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolish
ness of preaching to save them that believe."
III. The next thing done towards the work of redemp
tion, is God's giving the moral law in so awful a manner
at mount Sinai. This was another new step taken in this
great affair. Deut. iv. 33. " Did ever people hear the
voice of God speaking out ofthe midst of the fire, as thou
hast heard, and live ? And it was a great thing, whether
we consider it as a new exhibition of the covenant of
works, or given as a rule of life.
The covenant of works was here exhibited as a school
master to lead to Christ, not only for the use of that nation,
under the Old Testament, but for the use of God's church
throughout all ages of the world. It is an instrument that
the great Redeemer makes use of to convince men of their
sin, misery, and helpless state, and of God's awful and
tremendous majesty and justice as a lawgiver, in order to
make men sensible of the necessity of Christ as a Saviour.
This work of redemption, in its saving effect on men's
souls, in all its progress, is not carried on without the use
of this law delivered at Sinai.
It was given in an awful manner, with a terrible voice,
exceedingly loud and awful, so that all the people in the
camp trembled; and even Moses himself, though so inti
mate a friend of God, said, " I exceedingly fear and
quake." The voice was accompanied with thunders and
lightnings, the mountain burning with fire to the midst of
heaven, and the earth itself shaking and trembling. This
was done in order to make all sensible how great that
authority, power, and justice were, that stood engaged to

548

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

exact the fulfilment of this law, and to see it fully executed.
Here might be understood, how strictly God would re
quire the fulfilment ; and how terrible his wrath would be
against every transgressor. Men, being sensible of these
things, might thoroughly prove their own hearts, and know
how impossible it is for them to obtain salvation by the
works of the law, and be assured of their absolute need of
a mediator. If we regard the law given at mount Sinai — not as a
covenant of works, but — as a rule of life, it is employed by
the Redeemer, from that time to the end of the world, as
a directory to his people, to show them the way in which
they must walk, as they would go to heaven : for a way
of sincere and universal obedience to this law is the narrow
way that leads to life.
IV. The next thing observable in this period, was God's
giving the typical law, those precepts that did not properly
belong to the moral law. Not only those laws which are
commonly called ceremonial, which prescribe the ceremo
nies and "circumstances of the Jewish worship, and their
ecclesiastical state ; but also those that were political, for
regulating the Jewish commonwealth, commonly called
judicial laws, were many of them typical. The giving this
typical law was another great thing that God did in this
period, tending to build up the glorious structure of re
demption. There had been many typical events of provi
dence before, that represented Christ and his redemption,
and some typical ordinances, as particularly those two of
sacrifices and circumcision : but now, instead of represent
ing the great Redeemer in a few institutions, God enacts a
law full of typical representations of good things to come.
By these, that nation were directed every year, month,
and day, in their religious actions, and in their conduct, in
all that appertained to their ecclesiastical and civil state,
to something of Christ ; one observance exhibiting one
doctrine, or one benefit; another, another; so that the
whole nation by this law was, as it were, constituted in a
typical state. Thus the gospel was abundantly held forth
to that nation ; so that there is scarce any doctrine of it,
but is particularly taught and exhibited by some observ
ance of this law ; though it was in shadows, and under a
vail, as Moses put a vail on his face when it shone. — To
this typical law belong all the precepts which relate to
building the tabernacle, set up in the wilderness, and all
its form, circumstances, and utensils.
V. About this time was given to the church the first
written word of God. This was another great thing done
towards the affair of redemption, a new and glorious ad
vancement of the building ; which God has given for the
regulation of faith, worship, and practice to the end of the
world. This rule grew, and was added to from that time,
for many ages, till it was finished, and the canon of Scrip
ture completed by the apostle John. It is not very mate
rial, whether the first written word was the ten command
ments, written on the tables of stone with the finger of
God, or the book of Job ; and whether the book of Job
was written by Moses, as some suppose, or by Elihu, as
others. If it was written by Elihu, it must have been be
fore this period ; but yet could not be far from it, as ap
pears by considering whose posterity the persons spoken
of in it were, together with Job's great age, before it was
written. The written word of God is the main instrument em
ployed by Christ, in order to carry on his work of re
demption in all ages. There was a necessity now of the
word of God being committed to writing, for a steady rule
to God's church. Before this, the church had the word by
tradition, either by immediate tradition from eminent men
inspired, that were living, or else by tradition from former
generations, which might be had with tolerable certainty
in ages preceding this, by reason of men's long lives.
Noah might converse with Adam, and receive traditions
from him ; and Noah lived till about Abraham's time :
and the sons of Jacob lived a considerable time to deliver
the revelations made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to
their posterity in Egypt. But the distance from the begin
ning of things was become now so great, and the lives of
men become so short — being brought down to the present
standard about the time of Moses — and God having now
separated a nation to be a peculiar people, to be the keep

ers of the oracles of God ; God saw it to be a convenient
time now to commit his word to writing, to remain hence-,
forward for a steady rule throughout all ages. And there
fore, besides the book of Job, Christ wrote the ten com
mandments on tables of stone, with his own finger. After
this, the whole law, as containing the substance of the five
books of Moses, was by God's special command com
mitted to writing, which was called " the book of the law,"
and was laid up in the tabernacle, to be kept there for
the use of the church, Deut. xxxi. 24 — 26.
VI. God was pleased now wonderfully to represent the
progress of his redeemed church through the world to
their eternal inheritance, by the journey of the children of
Israel through the wilderness, from Egypt to Canaan'.
Here all the various steps of the redemption of the church
by Christ were represented, from the beginning to its con
summation in glory. The state they are redeemed from
is represented by Egypt, and their bondage there, which
they left. The purchase of their redemption was repre
sented by the sacrifice of the paschal lamb, which was
offered up that night in which God slew all the first-borri
of Egypt. The beginning of the application of the re
demption of Christ's church in their conversion, was re
presented by Israel's going out of Egypt, and passing
through the Red sea in so extraordinary and miraculous a
manner. The travel of the church through this evil world,
and the various changes through which the church passes,
was represented by the journey of the Israelites through
the wilderness. The manner of their being conducted by
Christ, was represented by the Israelites being led by the
pillar of cloud by day, and the pillar of fire by night.
The manner of the church's being supported in their pro
gress, supplied with spiritual food, and daily communica
tions from God, was represented by his supplying the
children of Israel with manna from heaven, and water out
of the rock. The dangers that the saints must meet with
in their course through the world, were represented by the
fiery flying serpents in the wilderness. The conflicts the
church has with her enemies, were represented by their
battle with the Amalekites and others. And innumerable
other particulars might be mentioned, which were lively
images of what the church and saints meet with in all
ages of the world. That these things were typical, is
manifest from 1 Cor. x. 11. " Now all these things hap
pened unto them for ensamples, and they were written for
our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are
come." Here the apostle is speaking of those very things
which we have now mentioned, and he says expressly,
that they happened unto them for types ; so it is in the
original. VII. Another thing here must not be omitted, which
was a great and remarkable dispensation of Providence,
respecting the whole world of mankind, in this period ;
viz. the shortening of man's life. It was now brought
down from being between nine hundred and a thousand
years, to about seventy or eighty. The life of man began
to be shortened immediately after the flood. It was
brought down the first generation to six hundred years,
and the next to between four and five hundred years. So
the life of man gradually grew shorter and shorter, till
about the time of the great mortality which was in the
congregation of Israel, after they had murmured at the re
port of the spies, and their carcasses fell in the wilderness,
whereby all the men of war died. Then the life of man
was reduced to its present standard, as Moses observes in
that psalm which he wrote on occasion of that mortality :
Psal. xc. 10. " The days of our years are threescore years
and ten ; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore
years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow ; for it is
soon cut off, and we fly away."
Man's life being cut so very short, tended to prepare the
way for poor, short-lived men, the more joyfully to enter
tain the glad tidings of everlasting life, brought to light by
the gospel ; and more readily to embrace a Saviour, that
purchases and offers such a blessing. , If men's lives were
still commonly about nine hundred years, how much less
would be the inducement to regard the proffers of a future
life ; how much greater the temptation to rest in the things
of this world, and to neglect any other life but this ! This
probably contributed greatly to the wickedness of the

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FROM MOSES TO DAVID.

549

antediluvians. But now how much greater motives have
men to seek redemption, and a better life than this, by the
great Redeemer, since the life of man is not one twelfth
part of what it used to be, and men now universally die
at the age when formerly they used to be but setting out
in the world.
VIII. The same work was carried on in preserving that
people, of whom Christ was to come, from totally perish
ing in the wilderness, by a constant miracle of forty years'
continuance. I observed before how God preserved those
of whom the Redeemer was to proceed in a very wonder
ful manner ; as Noah and his family from the flood ;
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with their families, from the
wicked inhabitants of Canaan ; and Jacob and his family
from perishing by the famine, by Joseph in Egypt. But
this preservation of Israel in the wilderness, was on some
accounts more remarkable than any of them ; for it was
by a continual miracle of so long duration. There was,
as may be fairly computed, at first two millions of souls
in that congregation. But if miraculous support had been
withheld, they must all have perished, in less than a
month's time, so that there would not have been one of
them left. But yet this vast multitude subsisted for forty
years together, in a dry barren wilderness, without sowing,
reaping, or tillage. Their bread was daily rained down to
them out of heaven, and they were furnished with water
out of a rock ; and the same clothes with which they came
out of Egypt, lasted all that time. Never was any instance
like this, of a nation being so upheld for so long a time to
gether. Thus God upheld his church by a continual
miracle, and kept alive that people in whom was the bless
ing, the great Redeemer of the world.
IX. God was pleased, during this time, to give a further
revelation of Christ the Redeemer in the predictions of
him. Three prophecies deserve particular notice. The
first is that of Balaam, Numb. xxiv. 17 — 19. " I shall see
him, but not now ; I shall behold him, but not nigh : there
shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise
out of Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and
destroy all the children of Sheth. And Edom shall be a
possession, Seir also shall be a possession for his enemies,
and Israel shall do valiantly. Out of Jacob shall come
he that shall have dominion, and shall destroy him that
remaineth of the city." This is a plainer prophecy of
Christ, especially with regard to his kingly office, than any
former one. But we have another, that God gave by
Moses, plainer still, especially with regard to his propheti
cal office, in Deut. xviii. 18, &c. " I will raise up a pro
phet from among their brethren, like unto thee, and will
put my words in his mouth, and he shall speak unto them
all that I command him," &c. This is a plainer prophecy
of Christ than any before. All the preceding prophecies
were in figurative, mystical language. The first prophecy
was so, That the seed of the woman should bruise the
serpent's head. The promises made to Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob, That in their seed all the families ofthe earth
should be blessed, were also mystical ; and not so particular,
because the expression, thy seed, is general, and not plainly
limited to any particular person. The prophecy of Jacob
in blessing Judah, Gen. xlix. 8. is in mystical language;
and so is that of Balaam, which speaks of Christ under
the figurative expression of a star. But this is a plain pro
phecy, without being veiled at all in any mystical lan
guage. There are several things contained in this prophecy of
Christ. Here is bis mediatorial office in general, ver. 16.
Here it is revealed how he should be a person to stand
between them and God, a being of such awful majesty,
holiness, and justice, that they could not have come to
him, and have intercourse with him immediately, without
a mediator to stand between them ; because, if they came
to such a sin-revenging God immediately, they should
die ; God would prove a consuming fire to them. And
here is a particular revelation of Christ with respect to his
prophetical office: " I will raise them up a prophet from
among their brethren, like unto thee," &c. And further,
it is revealed what kind of a prophet he should be ; a pro
phet like unto Moses, who was the head and leader of all
the people, and who, under God, had been their redeemer,
to bring them out of the house of bondage. He was their

shepherd, by whom God led them through the Red sea
and the wilderness, was an intercessor for them with God,
and was both a prophet and a king in the congregation ;
for Moses had the power of a king among them. It is
said of him, Dent, xxxiii. 5. that/i. was king in Jeshurun,
was the prophet by whom God built up his church, and
delivered his instructions of worship. 1 hus Christ was to
be a prophet like unto Moses ; so that this is both the
plainest and fullest prophecy of Christ that ever had been
from the beginning of tne world to this time.
The next prophecy respects the calling of the Gentiles,
which should be after Christ's coming, Deut. xxxii. 21.
Here is a very plain prophecy of the rejection of the Jews
and calling the Gentiles. As they moved God to jealousy,
by that which was not God, by casting him off, and taking
others, that were no gods, in his room ; so God declares
that he will move them to jealousy in like manner, by
casting them off, and taking others, who had not been his
people, in their room. The apostle Paul takes notice of
this prophecy, as foretelling the calling of the Gentiles, in
Rom. x. 19, 20. " But I say, Did not Israel know ? First,
Moses saith, I will provoke you to jealousy by them that
are no people, and by a foolish nation I will anger you.
But Esaias is very bold, and saith, I was found of them
that sought me not ; I was made manifest to them that
asked not after me."
Thus you see how the light of the gospel, which first
began to dawn and glimmer immediately after the fall,
gradually increases the nearer we come to Christ's time.
X. Another thing by which God carried on this work
in this time, was a remarkable pouring out of his Spirit on
the young generation in the wilderness. The generation
that was grown up when they came out of Egypt, from
twenty years old and upward, was a very froward and
perverse generation. They were tainted with the idolatry
and wickedness of Egypt, and were not weaned from it.
Ezek. xx. 6 — 8. Hence they made the golden calf in
imitation ofthe idolatry of Egypt, that was wont to wor
ship a bull or an ox ; and therefore cattle are called the
abomination of the Egyptians, i. e. their idol. With this
generation God was exceeding angry, and swore in his
wrath, that they should not enter into his rest. But the
younger generation, who were under twenty years old
when they came out of Egypt, were not so, Numb. xiv. 31 .
" But your little ones, whom ye said should be a prey,
them will I bring in ; and they shall know the land that
ye have despised." This was the generation with whom
the covenant was renewed, as we have an account in
Deuteronomy, and that entered into the land of Canaan.
This generation God was pleased to make a people to his
praise, and they were eminent for piety ; as appears by
many things said about them ; particularly, Jer. ii. 2, 3.
" I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, the love of
thine espousals, when thou wentest after me in the wilder
ness, in a land that was not sown. Israel was holiness to
the Lord, and the first-fruits of his increase." Here the
generation that went after God in the wilderness, is spoken
of with very high commendations, as eminent for holiness.
Their love to God is distinguished like the love of a bride
at her espousals, when they followed him through that
dreadful wilderness, after they went back from Kadesh-
Barnea, Deut. viii. 15. " Who led thee through the great
and terrible wilderness, wherein were fiery serpents, and
scorpions, and drought, where there was no water." Though
this generation had a much greater trial, than the genera
tion of their fathers had before they came to Kadesh-Bar-
nea, yet they never murmured against God, as their fathers
had done : but their trials had a contrary effect upon them,
to awaken, convince, and humble them, and fit them for
great mercy. They were awakened by those awful judg
ments of God inflicted on their fathers, whereby their car
casses fell in the wilderness. God poured out his Spirit
with those awakening providences, and their own travel in
the wilderness, and the word preached to them by Moses ;
whereby they were humbled, and at length multitudes of
them were savingly converted; as Deut. viii. 2, 3. " And
thou shalt remember the way which the Lord thy God led
thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee,
and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether
thou wouldst keep his commandments, or no. And he

550

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

humbled thee," &c. And ver. 15. " Who led thee through
that great and terrible wilderness, — that he might humble
thee, and that he might prove thee, to do thee good at thy
latter end." And therefore it is said, Hos. xiii. 5. " I did
know thee in the wilderness, in the land of great drought."
God allured them, and brought them into that wilderness,
and spake comfortably to them, as it was foretold that he
would do afterwards, Hos. ii. 14.
Those terrible judgments that were executed in the con
gregation after their turning back from Kadesh-Barnea, in
the matter of Korah, and the matter of Pepr, were chiefly
on the old generation, whom God consumed in the wilder
ness. Those rebellions were chiefly among the elders of
the congregation, who were given up to their hearts' lust ;
and they walked in their own counsels, and God was
grieved with their manners forty years in the wilderness.
That this younger congregation were eminent for piety,
appears by all their history. The former generation were
wicked, and were followed with curses ; but this was holy,
and wonderful blessings followed them. God did great
things for them ; he fought for them, and gave them the
possession of Canaan. And it is God's manner, when
he hath very great mercies to bestow on a visible people,
first, to fit them for such mercies, and then to confer them.
So it was here : they believed in God, and by faith over
came Sihon and Og, and the giants of Canaan ; and are
commended for cleaving to the Lord : Josh, xxiii. 8.
Joshua says unto them, " Cleave unto the Lord, as ye
have done unto this day." But when Joshua and all that
generation were dead, there arose another that knew not
the Lord. This pious generation showed a laudable and
fervent zeal for God on several occasions ; as on occasion
of Achan's sin ; but especially when they suspected the
two tribes and a half had set up an altar in opposition to
the altar of burnt-offering. There never was any genera
tion of Israel of which so much good and so little evil is
mentioned. It is further observable, that in the time of
this generation was the second general circumcision,
whereby the reproach of Israel was fully rolled away, and
they became pure ; and when afterwards they were pol
luted by Achan, they purged themselves again.
The men of the former generation being dead, and God
having sanctified this to himself, he solemnly renewed his
covenant with them, as we have a particular account in
the 29th chapter of Deuteronomy. We find that such
solemn renovations of the covenant commonly accom
panied any remarkable pouring out of the Spirit, causing
a general reformation : so we find it was in Hezekiah's
and Josiah's times. It is questionable whether there ever
was a time of so great a flourishing of religion in the
Israelitish church, as in that generation ; and as, in the
christian church, religion was in its most flourishing cir
cumstances in the day of its espousals, in the apostles'
days, so it seems to have been with the Jewish church in
the days of its first establishment in the times of Moses
and Joshua.
Thus God, at this time, gloriously advanced the work
of redemption, both by his word and Spirit. Hereby the
work of redemption was promoted, not only as it was in
itself a glorious instance of redemption in its application,
but as this was what God used for the orderly establish
ment of the Israelitish church, when it was first settled in
the regular observance of God's ordinances in Canaan :
even as the pouring out of the Spirit, in the beginning of
the christian church, was a great means for establishing the
christian church in all succeeding ages.
XI. The next thing I would observe, was God's bring
ing the people of Israel by Joshua, and settling them in
that land where Christ was to be born, and which was the
great type of the heavenly Canaan, which Christ has pur
chased. Joshua was of Joseph's posterity, and was an
eminent type of Christ, and is therefore called the shep
herd, the stone of Israel. Gen. xlix. 24. Being such a
type, he bore the name of Christ. Joshua and Jesus are the
same name, the one Hebrew, the other Greek : and there
fore, in the New Testament, originally written in Greek,
Joshua is called Jesus, Acts vii. 45. " Which also our
fathers brought in with Jesus," i. e. Joshua; Heb. iv. 8.
" If Jesus had given them rest, he would not have spoken
of another day ;" i. e. if Joshua had given them rest.

God wonderfully gave his people possession of this
land, conquering its former inhabitants, and the mighty
giants, as Christ conquered the devil. ' He first conquered
the great kings on the eastern side of Jordan, Sihon king
of the Amorites, and Og king of Bashan ; and then di
vided the river Jordan, as before he had done the Red
sea; causing the walls of Jericho to fall down at the
sound of the trumpets of the priests. That sound typified
the sound of the gospel by the preaching of gospel minis
ters, the walls of the accursed city Jericho, signifying the
walls of Satan's kingdom. After this he wonderfully de
stroyed the mighty host of the Amorites under the five
kings, causing the sun and moon to stand still, to help the
people against their enemies, at the prayer of the typical
Jesus ; plainly intimating, that God would make the
whole course of nature to be subservient to the affair of
redemption ; and that every thing should give place to the
welfare of God's redeemed people.
Thus did Christ show his great love to his elect, that
he would make the course of nature to give place to their
happiness and prosperity ; and showed that the sun and
moon, and all things visible and invisible, were theirs by
his purchase. At the same time, Christ fought as the
captain of their host, and cast down great hailstones upon
their enemies, by which more were slain than by the
sword of Israel. "And after this Christ gave the people a
mighty victory over a yet greater army in the northern
part of the land, gathered together at the waters of Merom,
as the sand of the sea-shore, Josh. xi. 4.
Thus God gave the people whence Christ was to pro
ceed, the land where he was to be born ; where he was to
live, preach, and work miracles ; to die, and rise again ;
and whence he was to ascend into heaven, as the land
which was a great type of heaven.
XII. Another thing that God did towards carrying on
this affair, was his actually setting up his stated worship
among the people, as it had been before instituted in the
wilderness. This worship was appointed at mount Sinai;
it was to make way for the coming of Christ ; and the in
numerable ceremonial observances of it were typical of
him and his redemption. But there were many parts of
their instituted worship that could not be observed in the
wilderness, by reason of their unsettled state there. And
there were many precepts that respected the land of Ca
naan, and their places of habitation there ; which therefore
could not be put in practice, till they came into that land.
But now, when this was brought to pass, God set up his
tabernacle in the midst of his people, as he had before
promised them, Lev. xxvi. 11. "I will set my tabernacle
amongst you." The tabernacle was set up at Shiloh, Josh.
xviii. 1. and the priests and the Levites had their offices
appointed them, and the cities of refuge, and now the
people were in a condition to observe their feasts of the
first-fruits, and their feasts of ingathering, and to bring all
their tithes and appointed offerings to the Lord ; and most
parts of God's worship were set up, though there were
some things that were not observed till afterwards.
XIII. The next thing was God's wonderfully preserv
ing that people, from this time forward, when all the males
went up, three times in the year, to the place where God's
ark was. The people of Israel were generally surrounded
with enemies, who sought all opportunities to destroy
them, and dispossess them of their land. Till David s
time, there were great numbers in the land of the remains
of the Canaanites, and the other former inhabitants of the
land, who were bitter enemies to the people of Israel :
and these had, three times in the year, a fair opportunity
of overrunning their country, and getting possession of
their cities, when only the women, and those who were
not able to go up, were left behind. And yet they were
remarkably preserved throughout all generations at such
seasons, agreeably to the promise, Exod. xxxiv. 24. " Nei
ther shall any man desire thy land, when thou shalt go up
to appear before the Lord thy God thrice in the year.
So wonderfully did God order affairs, and influence the
hearts of their enemies. They were full of enmity against
Israel, desired to dispossess them of their land, and often
had so fair an opportunity, that the whole country was
left naked and empty of all that could resist them. It
would have been only for them to go and take possession;

Part IV.

FROM MOSES TO DAVID.

551

and yet we never read, in all their history, of any of their
enemies taking these opportunities against them ; which
could be no less than a continual miracle, which God, for
the preservation of his church, kept up for so many gene
rations. It was surely a wonderful dispensation of Divine
Providence to maintain and promote God's great design of
redemption. XIV. God's preserving his church and'the true religion
from being wholly extinct in the frequent apostacies of the
Israelites in the time of the judges. How prone was that
people to forsake the true God, who had done such won
derful things for them, and to fall into idolatry ! and how
did the land, from time to time, seem to be almost over
run with it ! But yet God never suffered his true wor
ship to be totally rooted out : his tabernacle stood, the
ark was preserved, the book of the law was kept from
being destroyed, God's priesthood was upheld, and he
still had a church among the people. Time after time,
when religion seemed to be almost gone, then God grant
ed a revival, and sent some angel, or raised up some emi
nent person, to be an instrument of their reformation.
XV. God's preserving that nation from being destroyed,
although they were so often subdued and brought under
the dominion of their enemies. It was a wonder, not
only that the true religion was not wholly rooted out, and
so the church destroyed that way ; but also that the very
nation in which that church was, was not utterly destroy
ed ; they were so often brought under the power of their
enemies. One while they were subdued by Chushan-
rishathaim king of Mesopotamia, another while they were
brought under the Moabites ; now they were sold into the
hand of Jabin king of Canaan ; then they were under the
dominion of the Midianites ; now they were sorely dis
tressed by the children of Ammon ; and then by the Phi
listines. But yet God, in all these dangers, preserved
them, and kept them from being wholly overthrown. From
time to time, when it was come to extremity, and God
saw that they were upon the very brink of ruin, then he
raised up a deliverer, agreeable to Deut. xxxii. 36. " For
the Lord shall judge his people, and repent himself for
his servants ; when he seeth their power is gone, and
there is none shut up or left." — Those remarkable dispen
sations of Providence are very elegantly set forth by the
psalmist, Psal. cvi. 34, &c. — These deliverers were all
types of Christ, the great redeemer and deliverer of his
church ; and some of them very remarkably so ; as, Barak,
Jephthah, Gideon, and Samson, in very many particulars;
and above all in the acts of Samson, as might be shown,
were it not that this would take up too much time.
XVI. It is observable, that when Christ appeared to
manage the affairs of his church in this period, he often
appeared in the form of that nature which he took upon
him in his incarnation. So he seems to have appeared re
peatedly to Moses, and particularly at that time when God
spake to him face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend,
and he beheld the similitude of the Lord, (Numb. xii. 8.)
after he had besought him to show him his glory ; which
was the most remarkable vision that ever he had of Christ.
There was a twofold discovery that Moses had of Christ :
one was spiritual, made to his mind, by the word that
was proclaimed, " The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and
gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and
truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and
transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the
guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the chil
dren, and upon the children's children, unto the third and
to the fourth generation," Exod. xxxiv. 6, &c. Another
was external ; which was that which Moses saw, when
Christ passed by, and put him in a cleft of the rock.
What he saw was doubtless a glorious human form, in
which Christ appeared to him, and in all likelihood the
form of his glorified human nature, in which he should
afterwards appear. He saw not his face ; for it is not to be
supposed that any man could subsist under a sight of the
glory of Christ's human nature as it now appears.
So it was a human form in which Christ appeared to the
seventy elders, of which we have an account, Exod. xxiv.
9, 11. "Then went up Moses and Aaron, Nadab and
Abihu, and seventy ofthe elders of Israel. And they saw
the God of Israel : and there was under his feet, as it were

a paved work of sapphire-stone, and as it were the body of
heaven in his clearness. And upon the nobles of the chil
dren of Israel he laid not his hand : also they saw God,
and did eat and drink." So Christ appeared afterwards to
Joshua in the form ofthe human nature, Josh. v. 13, 14.
" And it came to pass when Joshua was by Jericho, he lift
up his eyes, and looked, and behold, there stood a man
over against him, with his sword drawn in his hand : and
Joshua went unto him, and said unto him, Art thou for us,
or for our adversaries ? And he said, Nay, but as cap
tain of the host of the Lord am I now come." And so he
appeared to Gideon, Judg. vi. 11, &c. and so also to Ma-
noah, Judg. xiii. 17 — 21. Here Christ appeared to Ma-
noah in a representation both of his incarnation and death ;
of his incarnation, in that he appeared in a human form ;
and of his death and sufferings, represented by the sacrifice
of a kid, and by his ascending up in the flame of the sacri
fice ; intimating, that it was he that was the great sacrifice,
that must be offered up to God for a sweet savour, in the
fire of his wrath, as that kid was burned and ascended up
in the flame. Thus Christ appeared, time after time, in
the form qf that nature he was afterwards to assume ; be
cause he now appeared on the same design and to carry on
the same work.
XVII. Another thing I would mention, done in this
period towards the work of redemption, is the beginning
of a succession of prophets, and erecting a school of the
prophets, in Samuel's time. There was something of this
spirit of prophecy in Israel after Moses, before Samuel.
Joshua and many of the judges had a degree of it. De
borah was a prophetess ; and some of the high-priests were
inspired with this spirit ; particularly Eli. That space of
time was not wholly without instances of those that were
set apart of God especially to this office, and so were call
ed prophets. Such an one we read of Judg. vi. 8. " The
Lord sent a prophet unto the children of Israel, which said
unto them," &c. Such an one he seems to have been of
whom we read, 1 Sam. ii. 27. " And there came a man of
God to Eli," &c.
But there was no such order of men upheld in Israel, for
any constancy, before Samuel ; the want of it is taken no
tice of in 1 Sam. iii. 1. " And the word of the Lord was
precious in those days ; there was no open vision." But in
Samuel there was begun a succession of prophets, maintain
ed continually from that time, at least with very little in
terruption, till the spirit of prophecy ceased, about Mala-
chi's time : and therefore Samuel is spoken of in the New
Testament as the beginning of this succession of prophets,
Acts iii. 24. " And all the prophets from Samuel, and those
that follow after, as many as have spoken, have foretold of
these days." After Samuel was Nathan, and Gad, Iddo,
and Heman, Asaph, and others. And afterwards, in the
latter end of Solomon's reign, we read of Ahijah ; and in Je
roboam and Rehoboam's time we read of prophets ; and
so continually one prophet succeeded another till the cap
tivity. In the writings of those prophets who are inserted
in the canon of Scripture, we read of prophets as being a
constant order of men upheld in the land. And even dur
ing the captivity there were prophets still, as Ezekiel and
Daniel ; and after the captivity, as Zechariah, Haggai, and
Malachi. And because God intended a constant succession of
prophets from Samuel's time, therefore in.his time was be
gun a school of the prophets ; that is, a school of young
men, trained up under some great prophet, who was their
master and teacher in the study of divine things, and the
practice of holiness, to fit them for this office as God
should call them to it. Those young men were called the
sons qf the prophets ; and oftentimes they are termed pro
phets'. These at first were under the tuition of Samuel.
Thus we read of Samuel's being appointed over them, 1
Sam. xix. 20. " And when they saw the company of the
prophets prophesying, and Samuel standing as appointed
over them." The company of prophets of whom we read
1 Sam. x. 5. were the same. Afterwards we read of their
being under Elijah. Elisha was one of these sons ; but
he desired to have a double portion of his spirit, as his suc
cessor, as the eldest son was wont to have a double por
tion of the estate of his father; and therefore the sons of
the prophets, when they perceived that the spirit of Elijah

552

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

rested on Elisha, submitted themselves to him, and owned
him for their master, as they had done Elijah before him,
2 Kings ii. 15. " And when the sons of theprophets which
were to view at Jericho, saw him, they said, The spirit of
Elijah doth rest on Elisha. And they bowed themselves
to the ground before bim." Elisha being their master, or
teacher, he had the care of them ; as vou may see, 2 Kings
iv. 38. " And Elisha came unto Gilgal, and there was a
dearth in the land, and the sons of the prophets were sitting
before him : and he said unto his servant, Set on the great
pot, and seethe pottage for the sons of the prophets." In
Elijah's and Elisha's time, there were several places where
there resided companies of these sons of the prophets ; as
at Bethel, at Jericho, and at Gilgal, unless that at Gilgal
and Jericho were the same : and possibly that which is
called the college, where the prophetess Huldah resided,
was another at Jerusalem ; see 2 Kings xxii. 14. It is
there said of Huldah the prophetess, that she dwelt in Jeru
salem, in the college. They had houses built, where they
used to dwell together ; and therefore those at Jericho being
multiplied, and finding their house too little for them, de
sired leave of their master and teacher Elisha, that they
might go and hew timber to build a bigger ; as you may
see, 2 Kings vi. 1,2. At some times there were numbers
of these sons of the prophets in Israel ; for when Jezebel
cut off the prophets of the Lord, it is said, that Obadiah
took a hundred of them, and hid them by fifty in a cave,
1 Kings xviii. 4.
These schools of the prophets being set up by Samuel,
and afterwards kept up by such as Elijah and Elisha, must
be of divine appointment; and accordingly we find, that
those sons of the prophets were often favoured with a de
gree of inspiration, while -they continued under tuition;
and God commonly when he called any prophet to the
constant exercise of the prophetical office, and to some ex
traordinary service, took them out of these schools ; though
not universally. Hence the prophet Amos, speaking of
his being called to the prophetical office, says, that he had
not been educated in the schools of the prophets, and was
not one ofthe sons ofthe prophets, Amos vii. 14, 15. But
Amos taking notice of it as remarkable, that he should be
so called, shows, that it was God's ordinary manner to take
his prophets out of these schools ; for therein he did but
bless his own institution.
Now this remarkable dispensation of Providence — God
beginning a constant succession of prophets in Samuel's
time, which was to last for many ages ; and to that end
establishing a school of the prophets under Samuel, thence
forward to be continued in Israel — was a step that God
took in the great affair of redemption. For the main busi
ness of this succession of prophets was, to foreshow Christ,
and the glorious redemption he was to accomplish, and so
to prepare the way for his coming ; as appears by that fore-
mentioned place, Acts iii. 24. and Acts x. 43. " To him
give alMhe prophets witness;" and Acts iii. 18. " But
those things which God before had showed by the mouth
of all his prophets, that Christ should suffer, he hath so
fulfilled." The Old-Testament church was not wholly without
light, but had not the light ofthe sun directly, only as re
flected. Now these prophets were the luminaries that
reflected the light of the sun ; and accordingly they spoke
abundantly of Jesus Christ, as appears by what we have of
their prophecies in writing. And they made it very much
their business, when they studied in their schools or col
leges, and elsewhere, to search out the work of redemp
tion ; agreeable to what the apostle Peter says of them,
1 Pet. i. 10, 11. "Of which salvation the prophets have
inquired, and searched diligently, who prophesied of the
grace that should come unto you ; searching what, or what
manner of time the Spirit of Christ that was in them did
signify, when it testified beforehand the sufferings of
Christ, and the glory that should follow." We are told,
that the church of the Redeemer is built on the founda
tion of the prophets and apostles, the Redeemer himself
being the chief corner-stone, Eph. ii. 20.
This was the first thing of the nature that ever was done
in the world ; and it was a great thing that God did to
wards further advancing this great building of redemption.
There had been before occasional prophecies of Christ, as

was shown ; but now the time drawing nearer when the
Redeemer should come, it pleased God to appoint a cer
tain order of men, in constant succession, whose main
business it should be, to point outChristand his redemption,
and as his forerunners to prepare the way for his coming;
and God established schools, wherein multitudes were in
structed and trained up to that end, Rev. xix. 10. " I am
thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren that have the testi
mony of Jesus ; for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of
prophecy."

PART V.
FROM DAVID TO THE BABYLONISH CAPTIVITY.
I come now to the fifth period of the times of the Old
Testament, beginning with David, and extending to the
Babylonish captivity ; and would now proceed to show
how the work of redemption was therein carried on. — And
here, I. The first thing to be noticed, is God's anointing that
person who was to be the ancestor of Christ, to be king
over his people. The dispensations of Providence through
the last period, respect the people whence Christ was to
proceed ; but now the Scripture leads us to consider God's
providence towards that particular person whence Christ
was to descend, viz. David. It pleased God at this time
remarkably to select out this person, from all the thousands
of Israel, and to put a most honourable mark of distinc
tion upon him, by anointing him to be king over his peo
ple. It was only God that could find him out. His
father's house is spoken of as being little in Israel, and he
was the youngest of all the sons of his father, and was
least expected by Samuel to be the man whom God had
chosen. God had before, in the former ages ofthe world,
remarkably distinguished the persons from whom Christ
was to come ; as Seth, and Noah, and Abraham, and Isaac,
and Jacob. But the last that we have any account of God's
marking out in any notable manner, the very person of
whom Christ was to come, was in Jacob's blessing his son
Judah ; unless we reckon Nahsbon's advancement in the
wilderness to be the head of the tribe of Judah. But this
distinction of the person of whom Christ was to come, in
David, was very honourable ; for it was God's anointing
him to be king over his people. And there was something
further denoted by David's anointing, than was in the
anointing of Saul. God anointed Saui to be king person
ally ; but God intended something further by sending
Samuel to anoint David, viz. to establish the crown of
Israel in him and his family, as long as Israel continued to
be a kingdom ; and not only so, but what was infinitely
more still, establishing the crown of his universal church,
his spiritual Israel, in his seed, to the end of the world, and
through eternity.
This was a great dispensation of God, and a great step
taken towards a further advancing of the work of redemp
tion, according as the time drew near wherein Christ was
to come. David, as he was the ancestor of Christ, so he
was the greatest personal type of Christ of all under the
Old Testament. The types of Christ were of three sorts ;
instituted, providential, and personal. The ordinance of
sacrificing was the greatest of the instituted types ; the re
demption out of Egypt was the greatest of the providen
tial; and David the greatest of the personal ones. Hence
Christ is often called David in the prophecies of Scripture;
as Ezek. xxxiv. 23, 24. " And I will set up one shepherd
over them, and he shall feed them, even my servant David ;
—My servant David a prince among them ;" and so in
many other places. He is very often spoken of as the seed
and the son of David.
David being the ancestor and great type of Christ, his
being solemnly anointed by God to be king over his people,
that the kingdom of his church might be continued in his
family for ever, may in some respects be looked on as an
anointing of Christ himself. Christ was as it were anoint
ed in him ; and therefore Christ's anointing and David's
anointing are spoken of under one scripture, Psal. lxxxix.

Part V.

FROM DAVID TO THE CAPTIVITY.

553

20. " I have found David my servant ; with my holy oil
have I anointed him." And David's throne and Christ's
are spoken of as one : Luke i. 32. " And the Lord shall
give him the throne of his father David." Acts ii. 30.
"David — knowing that God had sworn with an oath to
him, that of the fruit of his loins, according to the flesh, he
would raise up Christ to sit on his throne."
Thus God beginning the kingdom of his church in the
house of David, was, as it were, a new establishing of the
kingdom of Christ ; the beginning of it in a state of such
visibility as it thenceforward continued in. It was plant
ing the root, whence that branch of righteousness was
afterwards to spring up, the everlasting king of his church ;
and therefore this everlasting king is called the branch from
the stem qf Jesse. Isa. xi. 1. " And there shall come forth
a rod out ofthe stem of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out
of his roots." Jer. xxiii. 5. " Behold, the days come, saith
the Lord, that I will raise up unto David a righteous
branch, and a king shall reign and prosper." So chap.
xxxiii. 15. " In those days, and at that time, I will cause
the branch of righteousness to grow up unto David, and he
shall execute judgment and righteousness in the land."
So Christ, in the New Testament, is called the root and
offspring of David, Rev. xxii. 16.
It is observable, that God anointed David after Saul to
reign in his room. He took away the crown from him and
his family, who was higher in stature than any of his peo
ple, and was in their eyes fittest to bear rule ; to give it to
David, who was low of stature, and in comparison of des
picable appearance. So God was pleased to show how
Christ, who appeared despicable, without form or comeli
ness, and was despised and rejected of men, should take
the kingdom from the great ones ofthe earth. And also it
is observable, that David was the youngest of Jesse's sons,
as Jacob the younger brother supplanted Esau, and got the
birthright and blessing from him ; and as Pharez, brother
of Christ's ancestor, supplanted Zarah in the birth ; and as
Isaac, another of the ancestors of Christ, cast out his elder
brother Ishmael : thus was that frequent saying of Christ
fulfilled, " The last shall be first, and the first last."
II. The next thing I would observe, is God's preserving
David's life, by a series of wonderful providences, till
Saul's death. I before took notice of the wonderful pre
servation of other particular persons who were the ancestors
of Christ ; as Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob ; and have
observed how, in their preservation, the work of redemp
tion itself may be looked upon as preserved from being
defeated, and the whole church, which is redeemed through
him, from being overthrown. But the preservation of
David was no less remarkable than that of any others
already noticed. How often was there but a step between
him and death. The first instance of it we have in his
encountering a lion and a bear, when they had caught a
lamb out of his flock, whicb, without miraculous assist
ance, could at once have rent this young stripling in pieces,
as easily as they could the Iamb that he delivered from
them. So the root and offspring of David was preserved
from the roaring lion that goes about seeking whom he may
devour, and conquered him, and rescued the souls of men,
that were as lambs in the mouth of this lion. Another
remarkable instance was, in preserving him from that
mighty giant Goliath, who was strong enough to have torn
him to pieces, and given his flesh to the beasts of the field,
and to the fowls of the air, as he threatened. But God
preserved him, and gave him the victory over Goliath, so
that he cut off his head with his own sword, and thus was
made the deliverer of Israel. So Christ slew the spiritual
Goliath with his own weapon, the cross, and delivered his
represented people. And how remarkably did God pre
serve David from being slain by Saul, when he first sought
his life ! He gave him his daughter to be a snare to him,
that the hand ofthe Philistines might be upon him, requiring
of him a hundred foreskins of the Philistines, that so his life
might be exposed to them. The same divine care was
evident in preserving him afterwards, when Saul spake to
Jonathan, and to all his servants, to kill David ; and in
inclining Jonathan, instead of his killing him, as his father
commanded, to love him as his own soul, and to be a great
instrument of his preservation, even so as to expose his
own life to preserve David ; though one would have

thought that none would have been more willing to have
David killed than Jonathan, seeing that he was competitor
with him for the crown. Again, Saul threw a javelin at
him, to smite him even to the wall ; and sent messengers
to his house, to watch, and to kill him, when Michal, Saul's
daughter, let him down through a window. He afterwards
sent messengers, once and again, to Naioth in Ramah,totake
him, and they were remarkably prevented by miraculous
impressions of the Spirit of God ; and afterwards, when
Saul, being resolute in the affair, went himself, he also was
among the prophets. How wonderfully was David's life
preserved at Gath among the Philistines, when he went to
Achish the king of Gath, and was there in the hands of
the Philistines, who, one would have thought, would
have despatched him at once, he having so much provoked
them by his exploits against them. He was again wonder
fully preserved at Keilah, when he had entered into a
fenced town, where Saul thought he was sure of him.
And how wonderfully was he preserved from Saul, when
he pursued and hunted him in the mountains ! How re
markably did God deliver him in the wilderness of Maon,
when Saul and his army were compassing David about !
How was he delivered in the cave of Engedi, when, in
stead of Saul's killing David, God delivered Saul into his
hands in the cave ! David cut off his skirt, and might as
easily have cut off his head. He was delivered in like
manner 'in the wilderness of Ziph; and afterwards pre
served in the land of the Philistines, though David had
fought against the Philistines, and conquered them at
Keilah, since he was last among them. This, one would
think, would have been sufficient warning to them not to
trust him, or let him escape a second time, if ever they had
him in their hands again ; but yet now, when they had a
second opportunity, God wonderfully turned their hearts
to befriend and protect, instead of destroying him.
Thus was the precious seed that virtually contained the
Redeemer, and all the blessings of his redemption, wonder
fully preserved, when hell and earth were conspired to
destroy it. How often does David himself take notice of
this, with praise and admiration, in the book of Psalms !
III. About this time, the written word of God, or the
canon of Scripture, was augmented by Samuel. I have
before observed, that the canon of Scripture was begun,
and the first written rule of faith and manners was given
to the church, about the time of Moses. Joshua probably
enlarged it, and wrote the last chapter of Deuteronomy,
and most of the book of Joshua. Others think that
Joshua, Judges, Ruth, and part of the first book of
Samuel, were written by Samuel. However that was, of
this we have good evidence, that Samuel made an addition
to the canon of Scripture ; for Samuel is manifestly men
tioned in the New Testament, as one of the prophets whose
writings we have in Scripture, Acts iii. 24. " Yea and all
the prophets from Samuel, and those that follow after, as
many as have spoken, have likewise foretold of these days."
By that expression, " as many as have spoken," is meant,
as many as have spoken by writing.
And the way that Samuel spoke of these times of Christ
and the gospel, was by giving the history of those things
that typified, and pointed to them, particularly what he
wrote concerning David. The Spirit of God moved bim
to commit those things to writing, chiefly because they
pointed to Christ, and the times of the gospel ; and, as
was said before, this was the main business of all that
succession of prophets that began in Samuel. That Sam
uel added to the canon of the Scriptures seems further to
appear from 1 Chron. xxix. 29. " Now the acts of David
the king, first and last, behold they are written in the book
of Samuel the seer."
Whether the book of Joshua was written by Samuel or
not, yet it is the general opinion of divines, that the books
of Judges and Ruth, and part ofthe first book of Samuel,
were penned by him. The book of Ruth was penned for
this reason, that though it seemed to treat of private af
fairs, yet the persons chiefly spoken of were of the family
whence David and Christ proceeded, and so pointed to
what the apostle Peter observed of Samuel and the other
prophets, in the third chapter of Acts. These additions to
the canon of the Scripture, the great and main instrument
of the application of redemption, are to be considered as a

554

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

further continuation of that work, and an addition made
to that great building.
IV. Another thing God did towards this work, at that
time, was his inspiring David to show forth Christ and his
redemption, in divine songs, which should be for the use
of the church, in public worship, throughout all ages.
David was himself endued with the spirit of prophecy.
He is called a prophet, Acts ii. 29, 30. " Let me freely
speak to you of the patriarch David, that he is both dead and
buried, and his sepulchre is with us unto this day ; there
fore being a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with
an oath," &c. So that herein he was a type of Christ, that
he was both a prophet and a king.
The oil that was used in anointing David was a type of
the Spirit of God ; and the type and the antetype were
given both together; as we are told, 1 Sam. xvi. 13.
" Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in
the midst of his brethren ; and the Spirit of the Lord
came upon David from that day forward :" and it is pro
bable, that it now came upon him in its prophetical in
fluences. One way that this Spirit influenced him was by
inspiring him to show forth Christ, and the glorious things
of his redemption, in divine songs, sweetly expressing the
breathings of a pious soul, full of admiration of the glori
ous things of the Redeemer, inflamed with divine love and
elevated praise ; and therefore he is called the sweet
psalmist of Israel, 2 Sam. xxiii. 1. The main subjects
of these songs were the glorious things of the gospel ; as
is evident by the interpretation that is often put upon them,
and the use that is made of them in the New Testament :
for there is no one book of the Old Testament that is so
often quoted in the New, as the book of Psalms. Joy
fully did this holy man sing of those great things of Christ's
redemption, that had been the hope and expectation of
God's church and people from the beginning; and joy
fully did others follow him in it, as Asaph, Heman, Ethan,
and others ; for the book of Psalms was not all penned by
David, though the greater part of it was. Hereby the canon
of the Scripture was further enlarged by an excellent por
tion of divine writ.
This was a great advancement that God made in this
building; and the light of the gospel, which had been
gradually growing, was exceedingly increased by it : for
whereas before there was but here and there a prophecy
given of Christ in a great many ages, here Christ is spoken
of by his ancestor David abundantly,in multitudes of songs,
speaking of his incarnation, life, death, resurrection, ascen
sion into heaven, his satisfaction, intercession ; his prophe
tical, kingly, and priestly office ; his glorious benefits in this
life and that which is to come ; his union with the church,
and the blessedness of the church in him ; the calling of
the Gentiles, the future glory of the church near the end of
the world, and Christ s coming to the final judgment.
All these things, and many more, concerning Christ and
his redemption, are abundantly spoken of in the book of
Psalms. This was also a glorious advancement of the affair of
redemption, as God hereby gave his church a book of
divine songs for their use in that part of their public wor
ship, viz. singing his praises, throughout all ages to the
end of the world. It is manifest the book of Psalms was
given of God for this end. It was used in the church of
Israel by God's appointment : this is manifest by the title
of many of the Psalms, in which they are inscribed to the
chief musician, i. e. to the man that was appointed to be
the leader of divine songs in the temple, in the public
worship of Israel. So David is called the sweet psalmist
qf Israel, because he penned psalms for the use of the
church of Israel ; and accordingly we have an account
that they were actually made use of in the church of
Israel for that end, even ages after David was dead ; as
2 Chron. xxix. 30. " Moreover, Hezekiah the king, and
the princes, commanded the Levites to sing praises unto
the Lord, with the words of David, and of Asaph the seer."
And we find that the same are appointed in the New
Testament to be made use of in the christian church, in
their worship : Eph. v. 19. " Speaking to yourselves in
psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs." Col. iii. 16. " Ad
monishing one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual
songs." So they have been, and will, to the end of the

world, be made use of in the church to celebrate the
praises of God. The people of God were wont some
times to worship God by singing songs to his praise
before ; as they did at the Red sea ; and tney had Moses's
prophetical song, in the 32d chapter of Deuteronomy,
committed to them for that end; and Deborah, Barak,
and Hannah sung praises to God : but now first did God
commit to his church a book of divine songs for their
constant use.
V. The next thing I would notice, is God's actually
exalting David to the throne of Israel, notwithstanding all
the opposition made to it. God was determined to do it,
and he made every thing give place that stood in its way.
He removed Saul and his sons out of the way ; and first
set David over the tribe of Judah ; then, having removed
Ishbosheth, set him over all Israel Thus did God fulfil
his word to David. He took him from the sheep-cote,
and made him king over his people Israel, Psal. lxxviii.
70, 71 . And now the throne of Israel was established in
that family in which it was to continue for ever.
VI. Now first it was that God proceeded to choose a
particular city out of all the tribes of Israel to place his
name. There is several times mention made in the law
of Moses, of the children of Israel bringing their oblations
to the place which God should choose ; as Deut. xii. 5 — 7.
and other places ; but God had never proceeded to do it
till now. The tabernacle and ark were never fixed, but
sometimes in one place, and sometimes in another ; but
now God proceeded to choose Jerusalem. The city of
Jerusalem was never thoroughly conquered, or taken out
of the hands of the Jebusites, till David's time. It is said
in Joshua xv. 63. " As for the Jebusites, the inhabitants
of Jerusalem, the children of Judah could not drive them
out : but the Jebusites dwell with the children of Judah at
Jerusalem unto this day." But now David wholly sub
dued it, as we have an account in 2 Sam. v. And now
God proceeded fo choose that city to place his name there,
as appears by David's bringing up the ark thither soon
after ; and therefore this is mentioned afterwards as the
first time God proceeded to choose a city to that end.
2 Chron. vi. 5,6. and chap. xii. 13. Afterwards God
proceeded to show David the very place where he would
have his temple built, vii. in the threshing-floor of Araunah
the Jebusite.
This city of Jerusalem is therefore called the holy city ;
and it was the greatest type of the church of Christ in all
the Old Testament. It was redeemed by David, the
captain of the hosts of Israel, out of the hands of the
Jebusites, to be God's city, the holy place of his rest for
ever, where he would dwell. So Christ, the Captain of
his people's salvation, redeems his church* out of the hands
of devils, to be his holy and beloved city. And therefore
how often does the Scripture, when speaking of Christ's
redemption of his church, call it by the names of Zion
and Jerusalem ! This was the city that God had appointed
to be the place of the first gathering and erecting of the
christian church after Christs resurrection, of that remark
able effusion of the Spirit of God on the apostles and
primitive Christians, and the place whence the gospel was
to sound forth into all the world ; the place of the first
christian church, that was to be, as it were, the mother of
all other churches through the world ; agreeable to that
prophecy, Isa. ii. 3, 4. " Out of Zion shall go forth the
law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem : and he
shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many
people," &c. Thus God chose mount Zion whence the
gospel was to be sounded forth, as the law had been from
mount Sinai.
VII. The next thing to be observed here, is God's
solemnly renewing the covenant of grace with David, and
promising that the Messiah should be of his seed. We
have an account of it in the 7th chapter of the second
book of Samuel. It was done on occasion ofthe thoughts
David entertained of building God a house. On this
occasion God sends Nathan the prophet to him, with the
glorious promises of the covenant of grace. It is espe
cially contained in these words, (ver. 16.) " And thy
house and thy kingdom shall be established for ever
before thee; thy throne shall be established for ever."
Which promise has respect to Christ, the seed of David,

Part V.

FROM DAVID TO THE CAPTIVITY.

555

and is fulfilled in him only : for the kingdom of David
has long since ceased, any otherwise than as it is upheld
in Christ.
That this covenant, now established with David by
Nathan the prophet, was the covenant of grace, is evident
by the plain testimony of Scripture, Isa. Iv. 1—3. There
we have Christ inviting sinners to come to the waters, &c.
And in the 3d verse, he says, " Incline your ear, and come
unto me ; hear and your souls shall live ; and I will make
with you an everlasting covenant, even the sure mercies of
David." Here Christ offers to poor sinners, if they will
come to him, to give them an interest in the same ever
lasting covenant that he had made with David, conveying
to them the same sure mercies. But what is that cove
nant, in which sinners obtain an interest when they come
to Christ, but the covenant of grace ?
This was the fifth solemn establishment of the covenant
of grace with the church after the fell. The covenant of
grace was revealed and established all along. But there
had been particular seasons, wherein God had in a very
solemn manner renewed this covenant with his church,
giving forth a new edition and establishment of it, reveal
ing it in a new manner. The first was with Adam ; the
second with Noah ; the third with the patriarchs, Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob ; the fourth was in the wilderness by
Moses ; and now the fifth is made to David.
This establishment of the covenant of grace, David
always esteemed the greatest smile of God upon him, the
greatest honour put upon him ; he prized it, and rejoiced
in it above all the other blessings of his reign. You may
see how joyfully and thankfully he received it, when
Nathan came to him with the glorious message, 2 Sam.
vii. 18, &c. And so David, in his last words, declares this
to be all his salvation, and all his desire ; 2 Sam. xxiii. 5.
" He hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered
in all things and sure : for this is all my salvation, and all
my desire.
VIII. It was by David that God first gave his people
Israel the possession of the whole promised land. I have
before shown, how God giving possession of the promised
land belonged to the covenant of grace. This was done in
a great measure by Joshua, but not fully. Joshua did not
wholly subdue that part of the promised land that was
strictly called the land of Canaan, and that was divided by
lot to the several tribes ; but there were great numbers of
the old inhabitants left unsubdued, as we read in the
books of Joshua and Judges ; and tliere were many left
to prove Israel, and to be as thorns in their sides. There
were the Jebusites in Jerusalem, and many ofthe Canaan
ites, and the whole nation of the Philistines, who all
dwelt in that part of the land that was divided by lot, and
chiefly in that which belonged to the tribes of Judah and
Ephraim. And thus these remains of the old inhabitants of Canaan
continued unsubdued till David's time; but he wholly
subdued them all. Which is agreeable to what St. Stephen
observes, Acts vii. 45. " Which also our fathers brought
in with Jesus (i. e. Joshua) into the possession of the
Gentiles, whom God drove out before the face of our
fathers, unto the days of David." They were till the days
of David in driving them out, before they had wholly
subdued them. But David entirely brought them under.
He subdued the Jebusite, the whole nation of the Philis
tines, and all the rest of the remains of the seven nations
of Canaan ; 1 Chron. xviii. 1. " Now after this it came to
pass, that David smote the Philistines, and subdued them,
and took Gath and her towns out of the hands of the
Philistines." After this, all the remains of the former inhabitants of
Canaan were made bond-servants to the Israelites. The
posterity of the Gibeonites became servants before, hewers
of wood, and drawers of water, for the house of God. But
Solomon, David's son and successor, put all the other re
mains of the seven nations of Canaan to bond-service ; at
least made them pay a tribute of bond-service, 1 Kings
ix. 20  22. And hence we read of the children of Solo
mon's servants, after the return from the Babylonish cap
tivity, Ezra ii. 55. and Neh. xi. 3. They were the children
or posterity of the seven nations of Canaan, that Solomon
had subjected to bond-service.

Thus David subdued the whole land of Canaan, strictly
so called. But then that was not one half, nor quarter, of
the land God had promised to their fathers. The land
often promised to their fathers, included all the countries
from the river of Egypt to the river Euphrates. These
were the bounds of the land promised to Abraham, Gen.
xv. 19. "In that same day the Lord made a covenant
with Abram, saying. Unto thy seed have I given this land,
from the river of Egypt, unto the great river, the river
Euphrates." So again God promised at mount Sinai,
Exod. xxiii. 31. "And I will set thy bounds from the
Red sea even unto the sea ofthe Philistines, and from the
desert unto the river : for 1 will deliver the inhabitants of
the land into your hand ; and thou shalt drive them out
before thee." So again, Deut. xi. 24. " Every place
whereon the soles of your feet shall tread, shall be yours :
from the wilderness, and Lebanon, from the river, the
river Euphrates, even unto the uttermost sea, shall your
coast be." Again, the same promise is made to Joshua :
Josh. i. 3, 4. " Every place that the sole of your feet shall
tread upon, have I given unto you, as I said unto Moses ;
from the wilderness and this Lebanon, even unto the great
river, the river Euphrates, all the land of the Hittites, and
unto the great sea, towards the going down ofthe sun, shall
be your coast." But the land of which Joshua gave the
people possession, was but a little part of this land. And
the people never had possession of it, till now when God
gave it them by David.
This large country did not only include that Canaan
which was divided by lot to those who came in with
Joshua, but the land of the Moabites and Ammonites, the
land of the Amalekites, and the rest of the Edomites, and
the country of Zobah. All these nations were subdued
and brought under the children of Israel by David. And
he put garrisons in the several countries, and they became
David's servants, as we have a particular account in the
8th chapter of 2d Samuel : and David extended then-
border to the river Euphrates, as was promised ; see the
3d verse : " And David smote also Hadadezer the son of
Rehob, king of Zobah, as he went to recover his border at
the river Euphrates." And accordingly we read, that
Solomon his son reigned over all the region on this side
the river, 1 Kings iv. 24. " For he had dominion over all
the region on this side the river, from Tiphsah even unto
Azzah, over all the kings on this side the river." This
Artaxerxes king of Persia takes notice of long after :
Ezra iv. 20. "There have been mighty kings also over
Jerusalem, which have ruled over all countries beyond
the river; and toll, tribute, and custom was paid unto
them." So that Joshua, that eminent type of Christ, did but
begin the work of giving Israel the possession of the
promised land ; but left it to be finished by that much
treater type and ancestor of Christ, even David, who sub-
ued far more of that land than ever Joshua had done.
And in this extent of his and Solomon's dominion was
some resemblance of the great extent of Christ's king
dom ; which is set forth by this very thing, Psal. lxxii.
8. " He shall have dominion also from sea to sea, and
from the river unto the ends of the earth." See also
1 Kings viii. 56.
IX. God by David perfected the Jewish worship, and
added to it several new institutions. The law was given
by Moses, but yet all the institutions of the Jewish wor
ship were not given by Moses; some were added by
divine direction. So this greatest of all personal types of
Christ did not only perfect Joshua's work, in giving Israel
the possession of the promised land, but he also finished
Moses's work, in perfecting the instituted worship of Israel.
Thus there must be a number of typical prophets, priests,
and princes, to complete one figure or shadow of Chnst
the antetype, he being the substance of all the types and
shadows. Of so much more glory was Christ accounted
worthy, than Moses, Joshua, David, and Solomon, and
all the great prophets, priests, and princes, judges, and
saviours of the Old Testament put together.
The ordinances of David are mentioned as of parallel
validity with those of Moses, 2 Chron. xxiii. 18. " Also
Jehoiada appointed the offices ofthe house ofthe Lord by
the hand of the priests the Levites, whom David had

556

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

distributed in the house of the Lord, to offer the burnt-
offerings of the Lord, as it is written in the law of Moses,
with rejoicing and with singing, as it was ordained by
David. The worship of Israel was perfected by David,
by the addition he made to the ceremonial law, (1 Chron.
xxiii. &c.) consisting in the several orders and courses into
whicn the Levites were divided, and the work and busi
ness to which he appointed them, different from what
Moses had appointed them to ; and also in the divisions
of the priests, the sons of Aaron, into four and twenty
courses, assigning to every course their business in the
house of the Lord, and their particular stated times of at
tendance there. He also appointed some of the Levites to
a new office, that of singers, particularly ordering and
regulating them in that office, (1 Chron. xxv.) Others of
the Levites he appointed by law to the several services of
porters, treasurers, officers, and judges : and these ordi
nances of David were kept up thenceforth in the church of
Israel, as long as the Jewish church lasted. Thus we find
the several orders of priests, and the Levites, the porters,
and singers, after the captivity. And we find the courses
of the priests appointed by David still continuing in the
New Testament ; Zacharias the father of John the Bap
tist was a priest of the course of Abia ; which is the same
with the course of Abijah appointed by David, 1 Chron.
xxiv. 10.
Thus David as well as Moses was made like to Christ
the Son of David, in this respect, that by him God gave, in
a manner, a new ecclesiastical establishment, and new in
stitutions of worship. David did not only add to the insti
tutions of Moses, but by those additions he abolished some
of the old institutions that had been in force till that time ;
particularly those laws which appointed the business of
the Levites, which we have in the 3d and 4th chapters of
Numbers, which very much consisted in their charge of
the several parts and utensils of the tabernacle. But those
laws were now abolished ; and they were no more to
carry those things, as they had been used to do. But
David appointed them to other work instead of it ; 1 Chron.
xxiii. 26. " And also unto the Levites, they shall no more
carry the tabernacle, nor any vessels of it for the service
thereof :" a sure evidence that the ceremonial law given by
Moses is not perpetual, as the Jews suppose ; but might
be wholly abolished by Christ : for if David, a type of the
Messiah, might abolish the law of Moses in part, much
more might the Messiah himself abolish the whole.
David, by God's appointment, abolished all use of the
tabernacle built by Moses, and of which he had the pattern
from God : for God now revealed it to David to be his
will, that a temple should be built instead of the taber
nacle. This was a great presage of what Christ, the Son
of David, would do when he should come, viz. abolish
the whole Jewish ecclesiastical constitution, which was
but as a movable tabernacle, to set up the spiritual gospel-
temple, which was to be far more glorious, of greater
extent, and was to last for ever. David had the pattern of
all things pertaining to the temple showed him, even in
like manner as Moses had the pattern of the tabernacle :
and Solomon built the temple according to that pattern
which he had from his father David, which he received
from God. 1 Chron. xxviii. 11, 12. " Then David gave
to Solomon his son the pattern of the porch, and of the
houses thereof, and of the treasuries thereof, and of the
upper chambers thereof, and of the inner parlours thereof,
and of the place of the mercy-seat, and the pattern of all
that he had by the Spirit, of the courts of the house of the
Lord, and of all the chambers round about, of the trea
suries of the house of God, and of the treasuries of the
dedicated things." And, ver. 19. " All this, said David,
the Lord made me understand in writing by his hand upon
me, even all the works of this pattern."
X. The canon of Scripture seems at or after the close of
David's reign to be added to by the prophets Nathan and
Gad. It appears probable by the Scriptures, that they
carried on the history of the two books of Samuel from
the place where Samuel left it, and finished them. These
seem to be called the book of Samuel the seer, and Nathan
the prophet, and Gad the seer, 1 Chron. xxix. 29. " Now
the acts of David the king, first and last, behold, they
are written in the book of Samuel the srer, and in the

book of' Nathan the prophet, and in the book of Gad the
seer." XT. The next thing I would notice, is God's wonderfully
continuing the kingdom of his visible people in the line
of Christs legal ancestors, as long as they remained an
independent kingdom. Thus it was without any interrup
tion worth notice. Indeed the kingdom of all the tribes
of Israel was not kept in that line ; but the dominion of
that part in which the true worship of God was upheld,
who were God's visible people, was always kept in the
family of David, as long as there was any such thing as
an independent king of Israel ; according to his promise
to David ; and not only in the family of David, but always
in that part of David's posterity whence Christ was legally
descended. So that Christ's legal ancestor was always on
the throne, excepting Jehoahaz, who reigned three months,
and Zedekiah ; as you may see in Matthew's genealogy of
Christ. Christ was legally descended from the kings of Judah,
though not naturally. He was both legally and naturally
descended from David. He was naturally descended
from Nathan the son of David ; for Mary his mother was
one of the posterity of David by Nathan, as you may see
in Luke's genealogy : but Joseph, the reputed and legal
father of Christ, was naturally descended of Solomon and
his successors, as we have an account in Matthew's
genealogy. Jesus Christ, though he was not the natural
son of Joseph, yet by the law and constitution of the
Jews, was Joseph's heir ; because he was the lawful son
of Joseph's lawful life, conceived while she was his
legally espoused wife. The Holy Ghost raised up seed
to him. A person, by the law of Moses, might be the
legal son and heir of another, whose natural son he was
not ; as sometimes a man raised up seed to his brother : a
brother, in some cases, was to build up a brother's house ;
so the Holy Ghost built up Joseph's house. Joseph
being in the direct line of the kings of Judah, of the house
of David, he was in this respect the legal heir of the crown
of David ; and Christ being legally his first-born son, he
was his heir ; and so Christ, by the law, was the proper
heir of the crown of David, and is therefore said to sit
upon the throne of his father David.
The crown of God's people was wonderfully kept in the
line of Christ's legal ancestors. When David was old, ;
and not able any longer to manage the affairs of the king
dom, Adonijah, one of his sons, set up to be king, and
seemed to have obtained his purpose. All things for a
while seemed fair on his side, and he thought himself
strong. But Adonijah was not the ancestor of Joseph, the
legal father of Christ; and therefore how wonderfully did
Providence work here ! what a strange and sudden revolu
tion ! All Adonijah's kingdom and glory vanished away as
soon as it was begun ; and Solomon, the legal ancestor of
Christ, was established in the throne.
And after Solomon's death, when Jeroboam had con
spired against the family, and Rehoboam carried himself
in such a manner that it was a wonder all Israel was not
provoked to forsake him, (as ten tribes actually did,) and
set up Jeroboam in opposition to him ; and though he was
a wicked man, and deserved to have been rejected alto
gether from being king ; yet he being the legal ancestor of
Christ, God kept the kingdom of the two tribes, in which
the true religion was upheld, in his possession. And
though his son Abijam was another wicked prince ; yet
God still continued the crown in the family, and gave it to
Abijam's son, Asa. And afterwards, though many of the
kings of Judah were very wicked men, and horribly pro
voked God, as particularly Jehoram, Ahaziah, Ahaz, Ma
nasseh, and Anion ; yet God did not take away the crown
from their family, but gave it to their sons, because they
were the ancestors of Christ. God's remembering his
covenant established with David, is given as the reason
why God did thus, notwithstanding their wicked lives ;
1 Kings xv. 4. speaking of Abijam's wickedness, it is said,
" Nevertheless, for David's sake did the Lord his God
give him a lamp in Jerusalem, to set up his son after him,
and to establish Jerusalem :" so, 2 Chron. xxi. 7. speaking
of Jehoram's great wickedness, it is said, " Howbeit the
Lord would not destroy the house of David, because ,
of the covenant he had made with David, and as he

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FROM DAVID TO THE CAPTIVITY.

557

promised to give a light unto him, and to his sons for
ever." The crown of the ten tribes was changed from one
family to another continually. First, Jeroboam took it ;
but the crown descended only to his son Nadab. Then
Baasha, who was of another family, took it; and it re
mained in his posterity but one generation after his death.
And then Zimri, who was his servant, and not of his
posterity, took it ; from whom Omri, who was of another
family, took it. The crown continued in his family for
three successions : and then Jehu, who was of another
family, took it. Tbe crown continued in his family for
three or four successions ; and then Shallum, that was of
another family, took it. The crown did not descend at all
to his posterity; but Menahem, who was of another
family, took it ; and it remained in his family but one
generation after him. Then Pekah, who was of another
family, took it : and after him Hoshea, that was still of
another family, took it. So great a difference was there
between the crown of Israel and the crown of Judah;
the one was continued evermore in the same family, and
with very little interruption, in one right line ; the other
was continually tossed about from one family to another,
as if it were the sport of fortune. The reason was not,
because the kings of Judah, at least many of them, were
better than the kings of Israel ; but the one had the bless
ing in them ; they were the ancestors of Christ, whose
right it was to sit on the throne of Israel. But with the
kings of Israel it was not so ; and therefore Divine
Providence exercised a continual care, through all the
changes that happened through so many generations, and
such a long space of time, to keep the crown of Judah in
one direct line, in fulfilment of the everlasting covenant
he had made with David, the mercies of which covenant
were sure mercies; but in the other case there was no
such covenant, and so no such interposing care of Pro
vidence. And here it must not be omitted, that there was once a
very strong conspiracy of the kings of Syria and Israel, in
the time of that wicked king of Judah, Ahaz, to dispossess
him and his family of the throne of Judah, and to set one
of another family, even the son of Tabeal, on it ; as Isa.
vii. 6. " Let us go up against Judah, and vex it, and let
us make a breach therein for us, and set a king in the
midst of it, even the son of Tabeal." And they seemed
very likely to accomplish their purpose. There seemed
to be so great a likelihood of it, that the hearts of thepeo
pie sunk within them ; they gave up the cause. It is
said, " The heart of Ahaz and his people was moved as
the trees of the wood are moved with the wind." And on
this occasion God sent the prophet Isaiah to encourage
the people, and tell them that it should not come to pass.
And because it looked so much like a lost cause to Ahaz
and the people, therefore God directs the prophet to give
them this sign of it, viz. that Christ should be born of the
legal seed qf Ahaz, as Isa. vii. 14. " Therefore the Lord
himself shall give you a sign : behold, a virgin shall con
ceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel."
This was a good sign, and a great confirmation of the truth
of what God promised by Isaiah, viz. that the kings of
Syria and Israel should never accomplish their purpose of
dispossessing the family of Ahaz of the crown of Judah,
and setting up the son of Tabeal ; for Christ the Immanuel
was to be of them.
XII. The building of the temple was a great type of
three things, viz. of Christ, especially his human nature ;
of the church; and of heaven. The tabernacle seemed
rather to represent the church in its movable, changeable
state, in this world. But that beautiful, glorious, costly
structure, the temple, that succeeded the tabernacle, seems
especially to represent the church in its glorified state in
heaven. This temple was built according to the direction
and the pattern shown by the Holy Ghost to David, in
the place where was the threshing-floor of Oman the Jebu-
site, in mount Moriah, 2 Chron. iii. 1.; the same moun
tain (and probably in the very same place) where Abra
ham offered up his son Isaac ; for that is said to be in the
land of Moriah, Gen. xxii. 2. and was called the mountain
if the Lord, as this of the temple was, Gen. xxii. 14.
" And Abraham called the name of that place Jehovah-

jireh ; as it is said to this day, In the mount of the Lord
it shall be seen."
This was the house where Christ dwelt, till he came to
dwell in human nature. That his body was the antetype
of this temple, appears from what he says, " Destroy this
temple, and in three days I will raise it up," speaking of
the temple of his body, John ii. 19, 20. This continued
to be the house of God, the place of worship for his church,
till Christ came ; the place that God chose, where all their
sacrifices were offered up, till the great sacrifice came.
Into this temple the Lord came, even the messenger of
the covenant. Here he often delivered his heavenly doc
trine, and wrought miracles ; here his church was gathered
by the pouring out of the Spirit, after his ascension. Luke
xxiv. 53. " And they were continually in the temple,
praising and blessing God." And (Acts ii. 46.) respecting
the multitudes that were converted by that great effusion
of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost, it is said, " And
they continued daily with one accord in the temple." And
the sacred historian (Acts v. 42.) speaking ofthe apostles,
says, " And daily in the temple, and in every house, they
ceased not to teach and preach Jesus Christ!" And thence
the sound of the gospel went forth, and the church was
spread into all the world.
XIII. It is here worthy to be observed, that in Solo
mon's reign, after the temple was finished, the Jewish
church was risen to its highest external glory. The Jewish
church, as to its ordinances and constitution, is compared
to the moon, Rev. xii. 1. " And there appeared a great
wonder in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, and the
moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve
stars." This church was like the moon in many other
respects, but especially that it waxed and waned Uke the
moon. From its first formation, which was in the covenant
made with Abraham, when this moon began to appear, it
had been gradually increasing in its glory. This time,
wherein the temple was finished and dedicated, was about
the middle between the calling of Abraham and the coming
of Christ, and now it was full moon. After this the glory
of the Jewish church gradually decreased, till Christ
came ; as I shall have occasion to show more particularly.
Now the church of Israel was in its highest external
glory. Now Israel was multiplied exceedingly, so that they
seemed to have become like the sand on the sea-shore,
1 Kings iv. 20. Now the kingdom of Israel was firmly
established in the right family, the family of which Christ
was to come. Now God had chosen the city where he
would place his name ; and had fully given his people the
possession of the promised land. — They now possessed the
dominion of it all, in quietness and peace, even from the
river of Egypt, to the great river Euphrates ; all those na
tions whicb had formerly been their enemies, quietly sub
mitted to them ; none pretended to rebel against them.
Now the Jewish worship in all its ordinances was fully
settled : instead of a movable tabernacle, they had a
glorious temple ; the most magnificent, beautiful, and
costly structure, that ever had been, or has been since.
Now the people enjoyed peace and plenty, and sat every
man under his vine and fig-tree, eating and drinking and
making merry, 1 Kings iv. 20. They were in the highest
pitch of earthly prosperity, silver being as plenty as stones,
and the land full of gold and precious stones, and other
precious foreign commodities, which were brought by
Solomon's ships from Ophir and other parts of the world.
Now they had a king reigning over them who was the
wisest of men, and probably the greatest earthly prince
that ever was : their fame went abroad into all the earth,
so that they came from the utmost parts of the earth to
see their glory and their happiness.
Thus God was pleased, in one of Messiah's ancestors,
remarkably to shadow forth the kingdom of Christ and
himself reigning in his glory. David, a man of war, a
man who had shed much blood, and whose life was full of
troubles and conflicts, was a more suitable representation
of Christ in his state of humiliation, wherein he was con
flicting with his enemies. But Solomon, a man of peace,
was a representation more especially of Christ exalted,
triumphing and reigning in his kingdom of peace. And
the happy glorious state of the Jewish church at that time,
remarkably represented two things: — 1. A glorious state

553

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

of the church on earth, in the latter ages of the world :
those days of peace, when nation shall not lift sword
against nation, nor learn war any more. 2. The future
glorified state of the church in heaven. The earthly Ca
naan never was so lively a type of the heavenly Canaan as
it was then, when the happy people of Israel indeed en
joyed it as a land flowing with milk and honey.
XIV. After this the glory of the Jewish church gradual
ly declined more and more till Christ came ; yet the work
of redemption went on. Whatever failed or declined,
God still carried on this work from age to age ; this build
ing was advancing higher and higher. It went on, even
during the decline of the Jewish church, towards a further
preparation of things for the coming of Christ, as well as
during its increase ; for so wonderfully were things or
dered by the infinitely wise Governor of the world, that
whatever happened was ordered for good to this general
design, and made a means of promoting it. When the
Jews flourished, and were in prosperity, he made that to
contribute to the promoting of this design ; and when they
were in adversity, God made this also contribute to the
same. While the Jewish church was in its increasing
state, the work of redemption was carried on by their in
crease ; and when they came to their declining state, from
Solomon's time till Christ, God carried on the work of
redemption by that. The very decline itself, was one
thing that God employed as a further preparation for
Christ's coming.
As the moon, from the time of its full, is approaching
nearer and nearer to her conjunction with the sun ; so her
light is still more and more decreasing, till at length, when
the conjunction comes, it is wholly swallowed up in the
light of the sun. So it was with the Jewish church from
the time of its highest glory in Solomon's time. In the
latter end of Solomon's reign, the state of things began to
darken, by his corrupting himself with idolatry, which
much obscured the glory of this mighty and wise prince ;
and troubles also began to arise in his kingdom. After his
death the kingdom was divided, and ten tribes revolted,
and withdrew their subjection from the house of David,
apostatizing also from the true worship of God in the tem
ple at Jerusalem, and setting up the golden calves of
Bethel and Dan. And presently after this the number of
the ten tribes was greatly diminished in the battle of Je
roboam with Abijah, wherein there fell down slain of
Israel five hundred thousand chosen men ; which loss the
kingdom of Israel probably never in any measure recovered.
The ten tribes finally apostatized from the true God
under Jeroboam. The kingdom of Judah was greatly cor
rupted, and from that time forward more generally in a
corrupt state than otherwise. In Ahab's time the king
dom of Israel did not only worship the calves of Bethel
and Dan, but the worship of Baal was introduced. Be
fore, they pretended to worship the true God by these
images, the calves of Jeroboam ; but now Ahab intro
duced gross idolatry, and the direct worship of false gods
in the room of the true God ; and soon after, the worship
of Baal was introduced into the kingdom of Judah, viz. in
Jehoram's reign, by his marrying Athaliah, the daughterof
Ahab. After this God began to cut Israel short, by finally
destroying and sending into captivity that part which was
beyond Jordan, 2 Kings x. 32, &c. Then Tiglath-Pileser
subdued and enslaved all the northern parts, 2 Kings xv.
29. ; and at last all the ten tribes were subdued by Sal-
maneser, and they were finally carried away captive out of
their own land. 'After this also the kingdom of Judah was
carried captive into Babylon, and a great part of the nation
never returned. Those who returned were but a small
number, compared with what had been carried captive ; and
for the most part after this they were dependent on the
power of other states. They were subject one while to the
kings of Persia, then to the monarchy ofthe Grecians, and
then to the Romans. And before Christ's time, the Jew
ish church was become exceeding corrupt, overrun with
superstition and self-righteousness. And how small a
flock was the church of Christ in the days of his incarna
tion !
God, by this gradual decline of the Jewish state and
church from Solomon's time, prepared the way for the
coming of Christ several ways. ' _,-

1. The decline of the glory of this legal dispensation,
made way for the introduction of the more glorious dis
pensation of the gospel. The evangelical dispensation was
so much more glorious, that the legal dispensation had no
glory in comparison with it. The ancient dispensation,
even as it was in Solomon's time, was but an inferior glory,
compared with the spiritual glory of the dispensation in
troduced by Christ. The church, under the Old Testa
ment, was a child under tutors and governors, and God
dealt with it accordingly. Those pompous externals are
called by the apostle, weak and beggarly elements. It was
fit that those things should be diminished as Christ ap
proached; as John the Baptist, the forerunner of Christ,
speaking of Christ, says, " He must increase, but I must
decrease," John iii. 30. It is fit that the twinkling stars
should gradually withdraw their glory, when the sun is
approaching towards his rising point. The glory of the
Jewish dispensation must be gradually diminished, to
prepare the way for the more joyful reception of the
spiritual glory of the gospel. If the Jewish church,
when Christ came, had been in the same external glory
that it was in, in the reign of Solomon, men would have
their eyes so dazzled with it, that they would not have
been likely, joyfully to exchange such great external
grandeur, for only the spiritual glory of the despised Jesus.
Again, 2. This gradual decline ofthe glory in the Jewish state,
tended to make the glory of God's power, in the great
effects of Christ's redemption, the more conspicuous.
God's people being so diminished and weakened by one
step after another, till Christ came, was very much like the
diminishing of Gideon's army. God told Gideon, that the
Seople with him were too many for the conquest of the
lidianites, lest Israel should vaunt itself, saying, " My
own hand hath saved me." And therefore all that were
fearful were commanded to return ; and there returned
twenty and two thousand, and there remained ten thou
sand. But still they were too many ; and then, by trying
the people at the water, they were reduced to three hun
dred men. So the people in Solomon's time were too
many, and mighty, and glorious for Christ; therefore he
diminished them ; first, by sending off the ten tribes ; then
he diminished them by the captivity into Babylon ; and
then they were furthe. diminished by their great and
general corruption when Christ came ; so that Christ found
very few godly persons among them. With a small hand
ful of disciples, Christ conquered the world. Thus
high things were brought down, that Christ might be ex
alted. 3. This prepared the way for Christ's coming, as it made
the salvation of those Jews who were saved by Christ to
be more sensible and visible. Though the greater part of
the Jewish nation was rejected, and the Gentiles called in
their room ; yet a great many thousands of the Jews were
saved by Christ after his resurrection, Acts xxi. 20. They
being taken from so low a state under temporal calamity
in their bondage to the Romans, and from a state of so
great superstition and wickedness, it made their redemp
tion the more sensibly and visibly glorious.
XV. I would here take notice of the additions which
were made to the canon of Scripture in or soon after the
reign of Solomon. There were considerable additions
made by Solomon himself, who wrote the books of Proverbs
and Ecclesiastes, probably near the close of his reign. His
Song of Songs, as it is called, is wholly on the subject we
are upon, viz. Christ and his redemption, representing the
high and glorious relation, union, ana love, that is between
Christ and his redeemed church. And the sacred history
seems, in Solomon's reign, and some of the next succeed
ing, to have been enlarged by the prophets Nathan and
Ahijah, Shemaiah and Iddo. It is probable that part of
the history which we have in the first of Kings, was writ
ten by them. (See 2- Chron. ix. 29. xii. 15. xiii. 22.)
XVI. God wonderfully upheld his church and the true
religion through this period. It was very wonderful, con
sidering the many and great apostacies of that people to
idolatry. When the ten tribes had generally and finally
forsaken the true worship, God kept up the true religion in
the kingdom of Judah; and when they corrupted them
selves, as they very often did exceedingly, and idolatry was

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FROM DAVID TO THE CAPTIVITY.

559

ready totally to swallow up all, yet God kept the lamp
alive. When things seemed to be come to an extremity,
and religion at its last gasp, he was often pleased to grant
blessed revivals by remarkable outpourings of his Spirit,
particularly in Hezekiah's and Josiah's time.
XVII. God remarkably kept the book of the law from
being lost in times of general and long-continued neglect of
it. The most remarkable instance of this kind was its pre
servation in the time of the great apostacy, during the
greatest part of the long reign of Manasseh, which lasted
fifty-five years, and the reign of Amon his son. This
while the law was so much neglected, and such a careless
and profane management of the affairs of the temple pre
vailed, that the book which used to be laid up by the side
of the ark in the Holy of Holies, was lost for a long time ;
and nobody knew where it was. But yet God preserved it
from being finally lost. In Josiah's time, when they came
to repair the temple, it was found buried in rubbish. It
had been lost so long that Josiah himself seems to have
been much a stranger to it. (See 2 Kings xxii. 8, &c.)
XVIII. God remarkably preserved the tribe of which
Christ was to proceed, from being ruined through the many
and great dangers of this period. The visible church of
Christ from Solomon's reign was mainly in the tribe of
Judah. The tribe of Benjamin, which was annexed to
them, was but a very small tribe, and that of Judah ex
ceeding large ; and as Judah took Benjamin under his pro
tection when he went into Egypt to bring corn, so the tribe
of Benjamin seemed to be under the covert of Judah ever
after. And though, on occasion of Jeroboam's setting up
the calves at Bethel and Dan, the Levites resorted to Ju
dah out of all the tribes of Israel, (2 Chron. xi. 13.) yet
they were also small, and not reckoned among the tribes.
Many of the ten tribes, it is true, on that occasion, for the
sake of worshipping God in the temple, left their inherit
ances in their several tribes, and settled in Judah, and so
were incorporated with them, as we have account in the
chapter just quoted, (ver. 16.) yet the tribe of Judah was so
much the prevailing part, that they were called by one
name, Judah. Therefore God said to Solomon, 1 Kings
xi. 13. " I will not rend away all the kingdom : but will
give one tribe to thy son, for David my servant's sake, and
for Jerusalem's sake, which I have chosen." So when
the ten tribes were carried captive, it is said, there was
none left but the tribe of Judah : 2 Kings xvii. 18.
" Therefore the Lord was very wroth with Israel, and re
moved them out of his sight : there was none left but the
tribe of Judah only." Whence they were all called Jews,
a word derived from Judah.
This was the tribe of which Christ was to come ; and
in this chiefly did God's visible church consist, from
Solomon's time. This people, over whom the kings who
were legal ancestors of Christ, and ofthe house of David,
reigned, was wonderfully preserved from destruction
during this period, when they often seemed to be upon the
brink of ruin, and just ready to be swallowed up. So it
was in Rehoboam s time, when Shishak king of Egypt
came against Judah with a vast force. Of this we read m
the beginning ofthe 12th chapter of 2 Chronicles. So it
was again in Abijah's time, when Jeroboam set the battle
in array against him with eight hundred thousand chosen
men ; a mighty army ! 2 Chron. xiii. 3. Then God
wrought deliverance to Judah, out of regard to the cove
nant of grace established with David, as is evident by
ver. 4 and 5. and the victory they obtained was because
the Lord was on their side, as you may see, ver. 12. So
it was again in Asa's time, when Zerah the Ethiopian
came against him with a larger armv of a thousand thou
sand and three hundred chariots, 2 Chron. xiv. 9. On this
occasion Asa cried to the Lord, and trusted in him, being
sensible that it was nothing with him to help those that
had no power : (ver. 11.) " And Asa cried unto the Lord
his God, and said, Lord, it is nothing with thee to help,
whether with many, or with those that have no power."
And accordingly God gave them a glorious victory over
this mighty host.
So again it was in Jehoshaphat's time, when the children
of Moab, and the children of Ammon, and the inhabitants
of mount Seir, combined together against Judah with a
mighty army, a force vastly superior to any that Jehosha-

phat could raise ; and Jehoshaphat and his people were
greatly afraid : yet they set themselves to seek God on
this occasion, and trusted in him ; and God told them by
one of his prophets, that they need not fear them, nor
should they have any occasion to fight in this battle, they
should only stand still and see the solvation qf the Lord.
And according to his direction, they only stood still, and
sang praises to God ; and God made their enemies do the
work themselves, by killing one another; and the
children of Judah had nothing to do, but to gather the
spoil, which was more than they could carry away. (2
Chron. xx.)
So it was again in Ahaz's time, when Rezin the king of
Syria, and Pekah the son of Remaliah, the king of Israel,
conspired against Judah, and seemed to be sure of their
purpose ; of which we have spoken already. So it was
again in Hezekiah's time, when Sennacherib, that great
king of Assyria, and head of the greatest monarchy then
in the world, came up against all the fenced cities of
Judah, after he had conquered most of the neighbouring
countries. He sent Rabshakeh, the captain of his host,
against Jerusalem, who inavery proud and scornful manner
insulted Hezekiah and his people, as being sure of victory ;
and the people were trembling for fear, like lambs before
a lion. Then God sent Isaiah the prophet to comfort
them, and assure them that their enemies should not pre
vail ; as a token of which he gave them this sign, viz. that
the earth, for two years successively, should hring forth
food of itself, from the roots of the old stalks, without
their ploughing or sowing ; and then the third year they
should sow and reap, and plant vineyards, and eat the
fruit of them, and live on the fruits of their labour, as they
were wont to do before. (See 2 Kings xix. 29.) This is
mentioned as a type of what is promised in ver. 30, 31.
" And the remnant that is escaped of the house of Judah,
shall yet again take root downward, and bear fruit upward.
For out of Jerusalem shall go forth a remnant, and they
that escape, out of mount Zion : the zeal of the Lord of
hosts shall do this." The corn springing again after it had
been cut off with the sickle, and bringing forth another
crop from the roots, represents the church reviving again,
and flourishing, like a plant after it had seemingly been
cut down past recovery. When the enemies of the church
have done their utmost, and seem to have gained their
point ; when they have overthrown the church, so that its
being is scarcely visible, but is like a living root hid under
ground ; there 'is in it a secret life that will cause it to
nourish again, and to take root downward, and bear fruit
upward. This was now fulfilled. The king of Assyria
had already carried captive the ten tribes ; and Senna
cherib had also taken all the fenced cities of Judah, and
ranged the country round about, and Jerusalem only re
mained : and Rabshakeh had in his own imagination
already swallowed that up, as he had also in the fearful
apprehensions of the Jews themselves. But God wrought
a wonderful deliverance ; he sent an angel, that in one
night smote a hundred fourscore and five thousand in the
enemy's camp.
XIX. In the reign of Uzziah, and the following reigns,
God was pleased to raise up a set of eminent prophets,
who should commit their prophecies to writing, and leave
them for the use of his church in all ages. We before
observed, how that God began a constant succession of
prophets in Israel in Samuel's time, and many of these
prophets wrote by divine inspiration, and so added to the
canon of Scripture. But none of them are supposed to
have written books qf prophecies till now. Several of them
wrote histories of me wonderful dispensations of God to
wards his church. This we have observed already of
Samuel, who is supposed to have written Judges and Ruth,
and part of the first of Samuel, if not the book of Joshua.
And Nathan and Gad seem to have wiitten the rest of the
two books of Samuel : and Nathan, with Ahijah and
Iddo, wrote the history of Solomon, which is probably
that which we have in the first book of Kings. The
history of Israel seems to have been further carried on by
Iddo and Shemaiah : 2 Chron. xii. 15. " Now the acts of
Rehoboam, first and last, are they not written in the book
of Shemaiah the prophet, and Iddo the seer, concerning
genealogies ?" And after that the history seems to have

560

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I,

been further carried on by the prophet Jehu, the son of
Hanani : 2 Chron. xx. 34. " Now the rest of the acts of
Jehoshaphat, first and last, behold they are written in the
book of Jehu son of Hanani, who is mentioned in the
book of the kings of Israel." 1 Kings xvi. 1, 7. And
then it was further continued by the prophet Isaiah : 2
Chron. xxvi. 22. " Now the rest of the acts of Uzziah,
first and last, did Isaiah the prophet the son of Amos
write." He probably did it as well in the second book of
Kings, as in the book of his prophecy. And the history
was carried on and finished by other prophets after him.
Thus the prophets, even from Samuel s time, had been
adding to the canon of Scripture by their historical writ
ings. But now, in the days of Uzziah, did God first raise
up a set of great prophets, not only to write histories, but
to write books of their prophecies. The first of these is
thought to be Hosea the son of Beeri, and therefore
his prophecy, or the word of the Lord by him, is called the
beginning of the word ofthe Lord ; Hos. i. 2. " The be
ginning of the word of the Lord by Hosea ;" that is, the
beginning, or the first part, of the written word of that
kind, viz. that which is written in books of prophecy. He
prophesied in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and He-
zekiah, kings of Judah, and in the days of Jeroboam, the
son of Joash, king of Israel. There were many other
witnesses for God raised up about the same time to com
mit their prophecies to writing, Isaiah, Amos, Jonah,
Micah, Nahum, and probably some others : and so from
that time forward God seemed to continue a succession of
writing prophets.
This was a great dispensation of Providence, and a great
advance made in the affair of redemption, which will ap
pear, if we consider, that the main business of the pro
phets was to point out Christ and his redemption. They
were all forerunners of the great prophet. The main end
why the spirit of prophecy was given them was, that they
might give testimony to Jesus Christ, the great Redeemer,
who was to come. Therefore, the testimony of Jesus, and
the spirit of prophecy, are spoken of as the same thing ;
Rev. xix. 10. " And I fell at his feet to worship him :
and he said unto me, See thou do it not : I am thy fellow-
servant, and of thy brethren that have the testimony of
Jesus : worship God : for the testimony of Jesus is the
spirit of prophecy." And therefore we find, that the great
and main thing that the most of the prophets in their
written prophecies insist upon, is Christ and his redemp
tion, and the glorious times of the gospel. And though
many other things were spoken of in their prophecies, yet
they seem to be only as introductory to their prophecy of
these great things. Whatever they predict, here their pro
phecies commonly terminate.
These prophets, inspired by the Spirit of Christ, wrote
chieflv to prepare the way for his coming, and to exhibit
the glory that should follow. And in what an exalted
strain do they all speak of those things ! Many other
things they speak of in men's usual language. But when
they enter upon this subject, what a joyful heavenly
sublimity is there in their language ! Some of them are
very particular and full in their predictions of these things,
and above all the prophet Isaiah, who is therefore de
servedly called the evangelical prophet. He seems to
teach the glorious doctrines ofthe gospel almost as plainly
as the apostles did. The apostle Paul therefore takes no
tice, that the prophet Esaias is very bold, Rom. x. 20. i. e.
according to the meaning of the word in the New Testa
ment, is yery plain, he speaks out very plainly and fully ;
so being very bold is used 2 Cor. iii. 12. we use great
boldneis qf speech, or boldness, as in the margin.
How plainly and fully does the prophet Isaiah describe
the manner and circumstances, the nature and end, of the
sufferings and sacrifice of Christ, in the 53d chapter of
his prophecy ! There is scarce a chapter in the New Tes
tament itself which is more full upon it. And how much,
and in what a glorious strain, does the same prophet
speak, from time to time, of the glorious benefits of Christ,
the unspeakable blessings which shall redound to his
church through his redemption ! Jesus Christ, of whom
this prophet spoke so much, once appeared to him in the
form of the human nature, the nature he should after
wards take upon him. We have an account of it in the

6th chapter of his prophecy at the beginning: "I saw
also the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lifted up, and
his train filled the temple," &c. This was Christ, as we
are expressly told in the New Testament. (See John xii.
39—41.) And if we consider the abundant prophecies of this and
the other prophets, what a great increase is there of gospel
light ! How plentiful are the revelations and prophecies of
Christ, compared with what they were in the first period
of the Old Testament, from Adam to Noah ; or to what
they were in the second, from Noah to Abraham ; or to
what they were before Moses, or in the time of Moses,
Joshua, and the Judges ! This dispensation was also a
glorious advance of tbe work of redemption by the great
additions that were made to the canon of scripture. Great
part of the Old Testament was written now from the days
of Uzziah to the captivity into Babylon. And how excellent
are those portions of it ! What a precious treasure have
those prophets committed to the church of God, tending
greatly to confirm the gospel of Christ ! and which has
been of great comfort and benefit to God's church in all
ages since, and doubtless will be to the end of the world.

PART VI.
FROM THE BABYLONISH CAPTIVITY TO THE COMING OF
CHRIST.
I come now to the last subordinate period of the Old
Testament, viz. that which begins with the Babylonish,
captivity, and extends to the coming qf Christ, being near
six hundred years ; and shall endeavour to show how the
work of redemption was carried on through this period. —
But before I enter upon particulars, I would observe three
things wherein this period is distinguished from the pre
ceding ones.
1 . Though we have no account of a great part of this
period in the scripture history, yet the events of it are more
the subject of scripture prophecy, than any of the preced
ing periods. There are two ways wherein the Scriptures
give account of the events by which the work of redemp
tion is carried on ; one is by history, and another is by
prophecy; and in one or the other of these ways we have
in the Scriptures an account how the work of redemption
is carried on from the beginning to the end. Although
the Scriptures do not contain a proper history of the whole,
yet the whole chain of great events, by which this affair
hath been carried on from the commencement to the finish
ing of it, is found either in history or prophecy. And it
is to be observed, that where the Scripture is wanting in
one of these ways, it is made up in the other. Where scrip
ture history fails, there prophecy takes place ; so that the
account is still carried on, and the chain is not broken, till
we come to the very last link of it in the consummation
of all things.
And accordingly it is observable of this space of time,
that though it is so much less the subject of scripture his
tory, than most of the preceding periods, (there being
above four hundred years of which the Scriptures give us
no history,) yet its events are more the subject of pro
phecy, than those of all the preceding periods put together.
Most of those remarkable prophecies of the book of Daniel,
and most of those in Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, against
Babylon, Tyrus, Egypt, and many other nations, were ful
filled in this period.
Hence the reason why the Scriptures give us no history
of so great a part of this time, is not because the events
were not so important, or less worthy of notice, than those
of the foregoing periods ; for they were great and remark
able. But there are several reasons which may be given
for it. One is, that it was the will of God that the spirit
of prophecy should cease in this period, (for reasons that
may be given hereafter,) so that there were no prophets to
write the history of these times ; and therefore God de
signing this, took care that the great events of this period
should not be without mention in his word. It is observ-

Part VI.

FROM THE CAPTIVITY TO CHRIST.

561

able, that the writing prophets in Israel, were raised up
at the latter end of the foregoing period, and at the be
ginning of this ; for the time was now approaching, when,
the spirit of prophecy having ceased, there was to be no
inspired history, and therefore no other scripture account
but what was given in prophecy.
Another reason may be, for the suspension of inspired
history, that God in his providence took care, that there
should be authentic and full accounts of the events of this
period preserved in profane history. It is very worthy of
notice, that with respect to the events of the five preceding
subordinate periods, of which the Scriptures give the his
tory, profane history gives us no account, or at least of
but very few of them. There are many fabulous and un
certain accounts of things that happened before ; but the
commencement of authentic profane history is judged to
be but about a hundred years before Nebuchadnezzar's
time. The learned Greeks and Romans used to call the
ages before that the fabulous age; but the times after that
they called the historical age. And from about that time
to the coming of Christ, we have undoubted accounts in
profene history of the principal events ; accounts that
wonderfully agree with the many prophecies that relate to
those times.
Thus the great God, who disposes all things, took care
to give an historical account of things from the beginning
of the world, through all those former ages concerning
which profane history is silent ; and ceased not till he
came to those ages in which profane history related things
with some certainty. And concerning those times he
gives us abundant account in prophecy, that by comparing
profane history with those prophecies, we might see the
agreement. 2. This last period of the Old Testament seems to have
been remarkably distinguished from all others by great re
volutions among the nations of the earth, to make way for
the kingdom of Christ. The time now drawing nigh
wherein Christ, the great King and Saviour of the world,
was to come, great and mighty were the changes that were
brought to pass in order to it. The way had been prepar
ing for the coming of Christ from the fall of man, through
all the foregoing periods ; but now, the time drawing nigh,
things began to ripen apace for his coming ; and therefore
Divine Providence now wrought wonderfully. The great
est revolutions that any history has recorded, since the flood,
fell out in this period. Almost all the nations far and
near, within the knowledge of the Jews, were overturned
again and again. All lands were in their turn subdued,
captivated, and as it were emptied, and turned upside
down, and that most of them repeatedly, in this period ;
agreeable to that prophecy, Isa. xxiv. 1 . " Behold, the Lord
maketh the earth empty ; he maketh it waste, and turneth
it upside down, and scattereth abroad the inhabitants
thereof." This began with God's visible church, in their captivity
by the king of Babylon. And then the cup from them
went round to all other nations, agreeable to what God re
vealed to the prophet Jeremiah, xxv. 15 — 27. Here special
respect seems to be had to the great revolutions in the times
of the Babylonish empire. But after that there were three
general overturnings before Christ came, in the succession
ofthe three great monarchies ofthe world, after the Baby
lonish empire. The king of Babylon is represented in
Scripture as overturning the world : but after that, the
Babylonish empire was overthrown by Cyrus, who found
ed the Persian empire in the room of it ; which was of
much greater extent than the Babylonish empire in its
greatest glory. Thus the world was overturned the second
time. And then, the Persian empire was overthrown by
Alexander, and the Grecian set up, which was still of
much greater extent than the Persian. And thus there
was a general overturning of the world a third time.
After that, the Grecian empire was overthrown by the Ro
mans, and the Roman empire was established; which
vastly exceeded all the foregoing empires in power and ex
tent of dominion. And so the worid was overturned the-
fourth time.
These several monarchies, and the great revolutions of
the world under them, are abundantly spoken of in the
prophecies of Daniel. They are represented in Nebu-
vol. i. 2 o

chadnezzar's image of gold, silver, brass, and iron, and
Daniel's interpretation of it, (Dan. ii.) in the vision ofthe
four beasts, and the angel's interpretation of it, (Dan. vii.)
And the succession of the Persian and Grecian monarchies
is more particularly represented in the 8th chapter, in
Daniel's vision of the ram and the he-goat, and again in
the 11th chapter.
Beside these four general overturnings, the world was
kept in a constant tumult between whiles ; and indeed in
a continual convulsion through this whole period. Be
fore, the face ofthe earth was comparatively in quietness ;
though there were many great wars among the nations, yet
we read of no such mighty and universal convulsions and
overturnings as there were in this period. The nations of
the world, most of them, had long remained on their lees,
without being emptied from vessel to vessel, as is said of
Moab, Jer. xlviii. 11. Now these great overturnings were
because the time of the great Messiah drew nigh. That
they were to prepare the way for Christ's coming, is evi
dent by Scripture, particularly by Ezek. xxi. 27. " I will
overturn, overturn, overturn it, and it shall be no more,
until he come whose right it is, and I will give it him."
The prophet, by repeating the word overturn three times,
has respect to three overturnings, as in the Revelation, viii.
13. The repetition of the word woe three times, signifies
three distinct woes; as appears by what follows, ix. 12.
" One woe is past ;" and xi. 14. " The second woe is past,
and behold the third woe cometh quickly."
It must be noted, that the prophet Ezekiel prophesied in
the time of the Babylonish captivity ; and therefore there
were three great and general overturnings to come after this
prophecy, before Christ came ; the first by the Persians, the
second by the Grecians, the third by the Romans ; and
then Christ, whose right it was to take the diadem, and
reign, should come. Here these great overturnings are
evidently spoken of as preparatory to the coming and
kingdom of Christ. But to understand the words aright,
we must note the particular expression, " I will overturn,
overturn, overturn it," i. e. the diadem and crown of Israel,
or the supreme temporal dominion over God's visible
people. This God said should be no more, i. e. the crown
should be taken off, and the diadem removed, as it is said
in the foregoing verse. The supreme power over Israel
should be no more in the royal line of David, to which it
properly belonged, but should be removed away, and given
to others, and overturned from one to another : first the
supreme power over Israel should be in the hands of the
Persians ; then it should be overturned, and be in the
hands of the Grecians ; and then it should be overturned
again, and come into the hands of the Romans, and be no
more in the line of David, till that very person should
come, who was the Son of David, whose proper right it
was, and then God would give it to him.
That those great shakings and revolutions of the nations
of the world, were all to prepare the way for Christ's com
ing, and setting up his kingdom in the world, is further
manifest by Haggai ii. 6, 7. " For thus saith the Lord of
hosts, Yet once, it is a little while, and I will shake the
heavens, and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land : and
I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall
come, and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord
of hosts." And again, ver. 21 — 23. It is evident by this,
that these great revolutions and shakings of the nations,
whereby the thrones of kingdoms and their armies were
overthrown, and every one came down by the sword of his
brother, were to prepare the way for the coming of him
who is the desire of all nations.
The great changes and troubles that have sometimes been
in the visible church of Christ, (Rev. xii. 2.) are compared
to the church's being in travail to bring forth Christ : so
these great troubles and mighty revolutions, were, as it
were, the world's being in travail to bring forth the Son of
God. The apostle, in the 8th of Romans, represents the
whole creation as groaning and travailing in pain together
until now, to bring forth the liberty and manifestation of
the children of God. — So the world as it were travailed in
pain, and was in continual convulsions, for several hun
dred years together, to bring forth the first-born child, and
the only-begotten Son of God. And those mighty revolu
tions were as so many pangs and throes in order to it. The

562

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

world being so long a time kept in a state of war and
bloodshed, prepared the way for the coming of the Prince
of peace, as it showed the great need the world stood in of
such a prince, to deliver the world from its miseries.
It pleased God to order it in his providence, that
earthly power and dominion should be raised to its greatest
height, and appear in its utmost glory, in those four great
monarchies that succeeded one another, and that every one
should be greater and more glorious than the preceding,
before he set up the kingdom of his Son. By this it ap
peared how much more glorious his spiritual kingdom was
than the most glorious temporal kingdom. The strength
and glory of Satan's kingdom in these four mighty mo
narchies, appeared in its greatest height : for, being the
monarchies of the heathen world, the strength of them was
the strength of Satan's kingdom. God suffered Satan's
kingdom to rise to so great a height of power and magni
ficence before his Son came to overthrow it, in order to
prepare the way for the more glorious triumph of his Son.
Goiiath must have on all his splendid armour when the
stripling David comes against him with a sling and a
stone, for the greater glory of David's victory. God suf
fered one of those great monarchies to subdue another,
and erect itself on the other's ruins, appearing still in
greater strength, and the last to be strongest and mightiest
of all ; that so Christ, in overthrowing that, might as it
were overthrow them all at once. The stone cut out of the
mountain without hands, is represented as destroying the
whole image, the gold, the silver, the brass, the iron, and
the clay ; so that all became as the chaff of the summer
threshing-floor. These mighty empires were suffered thus to overthrow
the world, and destroy one another. And though their
Eower was so great, yet they could not uphold themselves,
ut fell one after another, and came to nothing ; even the
last of them, which was the strongest, and had swallowed
up the earth. It pleased God thus to show in them the
instability and vanity of all earthly power and greatness ;
which served as a foil to set forth the glory of the king
dom of his Son, which never shall be destroyed, Dan. ii.
44. " In the days of these kings shall the God of heaven
set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed ; and
the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall
break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it
shall stand for ever." So greatly does this kingdom differ
from all those kingdoms : they vanish away, and are left
to other people ; but this shail not be so left, but shall
stand for ever. God suffered the devil to do his utmost,
and to establish his interest, by setting up the greatest,
strongest, and most glorious kingdoms in the world, before
the despised Jesus overthrew him and his empire. Christ
came into the world to bring down the high things of
Satan's kingdom, that the hand of the Lord might be on
every one that is proud and lofty, and every high tower, and
every lofty mountain ; as the prophet Isaiah says, chap.
ii. 12, &c. And therefore these things were suffered to
rise very high, that Christ might appear so much the more
glorious in being above them. Thus wonderfully did the
great and wise Governor of the world prepare the way for
the erecting of the glorious kingdom of his beloved Son
Jesus. 3. Another thing for which this last space of time before
Christ was particularly remarkable, was the wonderful
preservation of the church through all those overturnings.
The preservation of the church was on some accounts
more remarkable through this period, than through any of
the foregoing. It was very wonderful that the church,
which now was so weak, and in so low a state, and mostly
subject to the dominion of heathen monarchies, should be
preserved for five or six hundred years together, while the
world was so often overturned, and the earth was rent in
{rieces, and made so often empty and waste, and the in-
labitants of it came down so often every one by the sword
of his brother. I say, it was wonderful that the church
in its weak and low state, being but a little handful of
men, should be preserved in all these great convulsions ;
especially considering that the land of Judea, the chief
place of the church's residence, lay in the midst of the
contending parties, was very much the seat of war amongst
them, and was often overrun and subdued. It was some

times in the hands of one people, and sometimes another,
and very much the object of the envy and hatred of all
heathen nations. It was often almost ruined by them,
often great multitudes of its inhabitants being slain, and
the land in a great measure depopulated ; and those who
had them in their power, often intended the utter destruc
tion of the whole nation. Yet they were upheld ; they
were preserved in their captivity in Babylon, in all the
dangers they passed through under the kings of Persia, in
the much greater dangers under the empire of the Greeks,
and afterwards when the world was trodden down by the"
Romans. Their preservation through this period was also pecu
liarly remarkable, in that we never read of the church
suffering persecution in any former period in any measure
to such a degree as they did in this, under Antiochus
Epiphanes, of which more afterwards. This wonderful
preservation of the church through all these overturnings
of the world, gives light and confirmation to what we read
in the beginning of the 46th psalm : " God is our refuge
and strength, a very present help in trouble. — Therefore
will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though
the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea ; though
the waters thereof roar, and be troubled; though the
mountains shake with the swelling thereof." Thus I have
taken notice of some general things wherein this last
period of the Old-Testament times was distinguished. I
come now to consider how the work of redemption was
carried on in particulars.
I. The first, tiling that here offers, is the captivity ofthe
Jews into Babylon. This was a great dispensation of
Providence, and such as never was before. The children
of Israel in the time of the judges, had often been brought
under their enemies ; and many particular persons were
carried captive at other times. But never had there been
any such thing as destroying the whole land, the sanctuary,
and the city of Jerusalem, and all the cities and villages
of the land, and carrying the whole body of the people out
of their own land into a country many hundred miles
distant, and leaving the land of Canaan empty of God's
visible people. The ark had once forsaken the tabernacle
of Shiloh, and was carried captive into the land of the
Philistines : but never had there been any such thing as
burning the sanctuary, utterly destroying the ark, carrying
away all the sacred vessels and utensils, breaking up all
their stated worship in the land, and the land lying waste
and empty for so many years together. How lively are
those things set forth in the Lamentations of Jeremiah !
The work of redemption was promoted by this remarkable
dispensation in these following ways. .
1. It finally cured that nation of their idolatry. The
prophet Isaiah, speaking of the setting up of the kingdom
of Christ, chap. ii. 18. speaks of the abolishing of idolatry
as one thing that should be done to this end : " and the
idols he shall utterly abolish." When the time was
drawing near, that God would abolish heathen idolatry,
through the greater part of the known world, as he did by
the preaching of the gospel, it pleased him first to abolish
heathenism among his own people; which he did by
their captivity into Babylon. This was a presage of that
abolition of idols, which God was about to bring to pass
by Christ through so great a part ofthe heathen world.
This nation, that was addicted to idolatry for so many
ages, notwithstanding all reproofs, warnings, corrections,
and all the judgments God inflicted on them for it ; were
now finally cured. So that however some might fall into
this sin afterwards, as they did about the time of An-
tiochus's persecution, yet the nation, as => nation, never
showed any propensity to this sin any more. This was a
remarkable and wonderful change in that people, and
what directly promoted the work of redemption, as it was
a great advancement of the interest of religion.
2. One thing that prepared the way for Christ's coming,
and for setting up the glorious dispensation of the gospel,
was the taking away many of those things wherein con
sisted the glory of the Jewish dispensation. In order to
introduce the glorious dispensation of the gospel, the ex
ternal glory of the Jewish church must be diminished.
This the Babylonish captivity did many ways.

Part VI.

FROM THE CAPTIVITY TO CHRIST.

563

First, it removed the temporal dominion of the house of
David, i. e. the supreme and independent government of
themselves. It took away the crown and diadem from
the nation. The time now approaching when Christ, the
great and everlasting King of his church, was to reign, it
was time for the typical kings to withdraw. As God said
by Ezekiel, chap. xxi. 26. " He removed the crown and
diadem, that it might be no more, till he should come
whose right it was. The Jews henceforward were always
dependent on the governing power of other nations, until
Christ came, for near six hundred years ; except about
ninety years, during which space they maintained a sort of
independence by continual wars under the dominion of
the Maccabees and their posterity. -
Again, by the captivity, the glory and magnificence of
the temple were taken away, and the temple that was built
afterwards was nothing in comparison with it. Thus it
was meet, that when the time drew nigh that the glorious
antetype of the temple should appear, that the typical
temple should have its glory withdrawn.
Moreover, they lost by the captivity the two tables of
the testimony delivered to Moses, on which God with his
own finger wrote the ten commandments on mount Sinai.
These seem to have been preserved in the ark till the cap
tivity.— These were in the ark when Solomon placed the
ark in the temple, 1 Kings viii. 9. " There was nothing in
the ark, save the two tables of stone, which Moses put
there at Horeb." We have no reason to suppose any
other, but that they remained there as long as that temple
stood. But the Jews speak of these as finally lost at that
time ; though the same commandments were preserved in
the book of the law. These tables also were withdrawn
On the approach of their antetype.
Another thing that was lost was the Urim and Thum-
mim. This is evident by Ezra ii. 63. " And the Tirsha-
tha said unto them, that they should not eat of the most
holy things, till there should stand up a priest with Urim
and Thummim." We have no account that this was ever
restored ; though the ancient writings of the Jews say the
contrary. What this Urim and Thummim was, I shall
not now inquire ; but only observe, that it was something
by which the high priest inquired of God, and received
immediate answers from him, or by which God gave forth
immediate oracles on particular occasions. This was now
withdrawn, the time approaching when Christ, the ante
type of the Urim and Thummim, the great word and ora
cle of God, was to come.
Another thing that the ancient Jews say was wanting in
the second temple, was the Shechinah, or cloud of glory
over the mercy-seat. This was promised to be in the
tabernacle : Lev. xvi. 2. " For I will appear in the cloud
upon the mercy-seat." And we read elsewhere of the
cloud of glory descending into the tabernacle, Exod. xl.
35. and so we do likewise with respect to Solomon's tem
ple. But we have no account that this cloud of glory
was in the second temple. And the ancient accounts
of the Jews say, that there was no such thing in the
second temple. This was needless in the second temple,
considering that God had promised that he would fill this
temple with glory another way, viz. by Christ's coming
into it ; which was afterwards fulfilled. See Haggai ii.
7. " I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations
shall come, and I will fill this house with glory, saith the
Lord of hosts."
When Moses built the tabernacle and altar in the wil
derness, and the first sacrifices were offered on it, fire came
down from heaven, and consumed the burnt-offering, as in
Lev. ix. 24. also when Solomon built the temple, and
offered the first sacrifices, 2 Chron. vii. 1 . And this fire
was never to go out, but to be kept alive with the greatest
care, as God commanded, Lev. vi. 13. " The fire shall
ever be burning upon the altar; it shall never go out."
And there is no reason to suppose the fire kindled in
Solomon's time ever went out till the temple was destroy
ed by- the Babylonians. But then it was extinguished,
and never was restored. We have no account of its being
fiven on building the second temple, as we have at the
uilding of the tabernacle and first temple. But the Jews,
after their return, were forced to make use of their com
mon fire instead of it, according to the ancient tradition of
2 o 2

the Jews. Thus the lights of the Old Testament go out
on the approach of the glorious Sun of righteousness.
3. The captivity into Babylon occasioned the dispersion
of the Jews through the greater part of the known world,
before the coming of Christ. For the whole nation being
carried away far out of their own land, and continuing in
a state of captivity for so long a time, they got possessions,
built houses, and settled themselves in the land of their
captivity, agreeable to the direction that Jeremiah gave
them, (Jer. xxix.) And therefore, when Cyrus gave them
liberty to return to the land where they had formerly
dwelt, many of them never returned ; they were not will
ing to leave their settlements and possessions there, to go
into a desolate country, many hundred miles distant,
which none but the old men among them had ever seen ;
and therefore they were but a small number that returned,
as we see in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. Great
numbers tarried behind, though they still retained the
same religion with those that returned, so far as it could
be practised in a foreign land. Those messengers that we
read of in the 7th chapter of Zechariah, that came to in
quire of the priests and prophets in Jerusalem, Sherezer
and Regem-melech, are supposed to be messengers sent
from the Jews that remained still in Babylon.
Those Jews who remained in that country were soon,
by the great changes that happened in the world, dispersed
thence into all the adjacent countries. Hence we find,
that in Esther's time, which was after the return from the
captivity, the Jews were dispersed throughout all parts of
the vast Persian empire, which extended from India to
Ethiopia; Esth. iii. 8. "And Haman said unto king
Ahasuerus, There is a certain people scattered abroad, and
dispersed among the people in all the provinces of thy
kingdom," &c. And so they continued dispersed- till
Christ came, and till the apostles went forth to preach the
gospel. But yet these dispersed Jews retained their reli
gion. Their captivity, as before observed, thoroughly
cured them of their idolatry ; and it was their manner, as
many of them as could, to go up to Jerusalem at their
great feasts. Hence we read in the 2nd chapter of Acts,
that at the great feast of Pentecost, there were Jews abid
ing at Jerusalem out of every nation under heaven. These
had come up from all countries where they were dispersed,
to worship at that feast. And hence we find, in their
history, that wherever the apostles went preaching through
the world, they found Jews. They came to one city,
and to another city, and went into the synagogue of the
Jews. Antiochus the Great, about two hundred years before
Christ, on a certain occasion, transplanted two thousand
families of Jews from the country about Babylon into
Asia the Less ; and so they and their posterity, many of
them, settled in Pontus, Galatia, Phrygia, Pamphylia, and
in Ephesus; and from thence settled in Athens, and
Corinth, and Rome. Whence came the synagogues in
those places in which the apostle Paul preached. — Now,
this dispersion of the Jews through the world before
Christ came, did many ways prepare the way for his
coming, and setting up his kingdom in the world.
This was a means of raising a general expectation of the
Messiah through the world, about the time that he actually
came. For the Jews, wherever they were dispersed, car
ried the Holy Scriptures with them, and so the prophecies
of the Messiah ; and being conversant with the nations
among whom they lived, they, by that means, became ac
quainted with these prophecies, and with the expectations
of the Jews concerning their glorious Messiah. Hence,
the birth of such a glorious person in Judea, about that
time, began to be the general expectation of all nations,
as appears by the writings of learned heathens, which are
still extant; particularly the famous poet Virgil, who
lived in Italy a little before Christ, has a poem about the
expectation of a great prince that was to be born, and the
happy times of righteousness and peace he was to intro
duce ; some of it very much in the language of the pro
phet" Isaiah.
Another way by which this dispersed state of the Jews
prepared the way'for Christ was, that it showed the neces
sity of abolishing the Jewish dispensation, and introducing
a new dispensation of the covenant of grace. It showed

564

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

the necessity of abolishing the ceremonial law, and the
old Jewish worship : for, by this means, the observance of
that ceremonial law became impracticable even by the
Jews themselves. The ceremonial law was adapted to the
state of a people dwelling together in the same land,
where was the city which God had chosen ; where was
the temple, the only place where they might offer sacri
fices ; and where alone it was lawful for their priests and
Levites to officiate, where they were to bring their first-
fruits, where were their cities of refuge, and the like.
But by this dispersion, many of the Jews lived more than
a thousand miles distant, when Christ came ; which made
the observance of their laws of sacrifices, and the like, im
practicable. And though their forefathers might be to
blame in not going up to the land of Judea when they
were permitted by Cyrus, yet the case was now, as to
many of them at least, become impracticable ; which
showed the necessity of introducing a new dispensation,
that should be fitted, not only to one particular land, but
to the general circumstances and use of all nations of the
world. Again, this universal dispersion of the Jews contributed
to make the facts concerning Jesus Christ publicly known
through the world. For, as observed before, the Jews who
lived in other countries, used frequently to go up to Jeru
salem at their three great feasts, from year to year ; by
which means, they could not but become acquainted with
the wonderful things that Christ did in that land. We
find that the great miracle of raising Lazarus excited the
curiosity of those foreign Jews who came up at the feast
of the passover to see Jesus ; John xii. 19 — 21. These
Greeks were foreign Jews and proselytes, as is evident by
their coming to worship at the feast of the passover. The
Jews who iived abroad among the Greeks, and spoke their
language, were called Greeks, Hellenists, and Grecians,
Acts vi. 1 . These were not Gentile Christians ; for this
occurred before the calling of the Gentiles.
By the same means the Jews who went up from other
countries became acquainted with Christ's crucifixion.
Thus the disciples going to Emmaus say to Christ, whom
they did not know, Luke xxiv. 18. "Art thou only a
stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things
which have come to pass there in these days ; " plainly
intimating, that the things concerning Jesus were so pub
licly known to all men, that it was wonderful to find any
man unacquainted with them. And so afterwards they
became acquainted with the news of his resurrection ; and
when they returned into their own countries, they carried
the news with them, and made these facts public through
the world, as before they had made the prophecies of them.
After this, those foreign Jews who came to Jerusalem,
took great notice of the pouring out of the Spirit at Pente
cost, and the wonderful effects of it ; and many of them
were converted by it. There were Parthians, Medes,
Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Egypt,
and the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and the strangers of
Rome, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians. And
so they not only carried back the news of these facts, but
Christianity itself, into their own countries with them ;
which contributed much to the spreading of it through
the world.
Again, the dispersion of the Jews opened a door for the
introduction of tne apostles in all places where they came
to preach the gospel. For almost in all places where they
came to preach the gospel, they found synagogues of the
Jews, where the Holy Scriptures were wont to be read, and
the true God worshipped; which was a great advantage to
the apostles in spreading the gospel through the world.
For their way was, into whatever city they came, first to
go into the synagogue of the Jews, (they being of the
same nation,) and there to preach the gospel unto them.
And hereby their new doctrine was taken notice of by
their Gentile neighbours, whose curiosity excited them to
hear what they had to say ; which became a fair occasion
to the apostles to preach the gospel to them. This is the
account we have in the Acts of the Apostles. And these
Gentiles had been before, many of them, prepared in
some measure, by the knowledge they had of the Jewish
religion, of their worship of one God, their prophecies,
and expectation of a Messiah. This knowledge they de

rived from the Jews, who had long been their neighbours ;
which opened the door for the gospel to have access to
them. And the work of the apostles with them was
doubtless much easier, than if they never had heard any
thing before of such a person as the apostles preached, or
any thing about the worship of one only true God. So
many ways did the Babylonish captivity greatly prepare
the way for Christ's coming.
II. The next particular that I would notice is, the ad
dition made to the canon of Scripture in the time of the
captivity, in those two remarkable portions of Scripture,
the prophecies of Ezekiel and Daniel. Christ appeared
to each of these prophets in the form of that nature which
he was afterwards to take upon him. The prophet Ezekiel
gives an account of his thus appearing to him repeatedly,
as Ezek. i. 26. "And above the firmament that was over
their heads, was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance
of a sapphire-stone, and upon the likeness of the throne
was the likeness as the appearance of a man above upon
it;" and so chap. viii. 1, 2. So Christ appeared to the
prophet Daniel : Dan. viii. 15, 16. "There stood before
me as the appearance of a man. And I heard a man's
voice between the banks of Ulai, which called, and said,
Gabriel, make this man to understand the vision." There
are several things which make it evident, that this was
Christ ; but I cannot now stand to mention particulars.
Christ appeared again as a man to this prophet, Dan. x.
5, 6. "Then I lift up mine eyes and looked, and behold,
a certain man clothed in linen, whose loins were girded
with fine gold of Uphaz : his body also was like the beryl,
and his face as the appearance of lightning, and his eyes
as lamps of fire, and his arms and his feet like in colour
to polished brass, and the voice of his words like the
voice of a multitude." Comparing this vision with that
of the apostle John in the 1st chapter of Revelation,
makes it manifest that this person was Christ. And the
prophet Daniel, in the historical part of his book, gives
an account of a very remarkable appearance of Christ in
Nebuchadnezzar's furnace, with Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego. Dan. iii. 25. "Lo, I see four men loose, — and
the form of the fourth is like the Son of God."
Christ not only appeared here in the form of the human
nature, but he appeared in a furnace, saving those persons
who believed on him from that furnace ; by which is re
presented to us, how Christ, by coming himself into the
furnace of God's wrath, saves those that believe in him
from that furnace, so that it has no power on them ; and
the wrath of God never reaches or touches them, so much
as to singe the hair of their head.
These two prophets, in many respects, were more par
ticular concerning the coming of Christ, and his glorious
gospel-kingdom, than any of the prophets had been before.
They mention those three great overturnings of the world
that should be before he came. Ezekiel is particular in
several places concerning the coming of Christ. The
prophet Daniel is more particular in foretelling the time
of Christ's coming than ever any prophet had been before,
(chap, ix.) He foretold, that it should be seventy weeks,
i. e. seventy weeks of years, or seventy times seven years,
which is four hundred and ninety years, from the decree
to rebuild and restore the state' of the Jews, till the
Messiah should be crucified. This must be reckoned
from the commission given to Ezra by Artaxerxes, whereby
the very particular time of Christ's crucifixion was pointed
out, which never had been before. (Ezra vii.)
The prophet Ezekiel is very particular in the mystical
description of the gospel-church, in his vision of the
temple and city, towards the latter part of his prophecy.
The prophet Daniel points out the order of particular
events that should come to pass relating to the christian
church after Christ was come, as the rise of Antichrist,
the continuance of his reign, his fall, and the glory that
should follow.— Thus does the gospel-light still increase,
the nearer we come to the time of Chrisf s birth.
III. The next particular I would mention is, the de
struction of Babylon, and the overthrow of the Chaldean
empire by Cyrus. The destruction of Babylon took place
on that night in which Belshazzar the king, and the city
in general, were drowned in a drunken festival, which
they kept in honour of their gods, when Daniel was called

Part VI.

FROM THE CAPTIVITY TO CHRIST.

to read the hand-writing on the wall, Dan. v. 30. and it
was brought about in such a manner, as wonderfully to
show the hand of God, and remarkably to fulfil his word
by his prophets, which I cannot now stand particularly to
relate. Now that great city, which had long been an
enemy to the city of God, was destroyed, after it had
stood ever since the first building of Babel, which was
about seventeen hundred years. If the check which was
put to the building of this city at its beginning, whereby
they were prevented from carrying it to that extent and
magnificence they intended, promoted the work of re
demption, much more did this destruction of it.
This was a remarkable instance of God's vengeance on
the enemies of his redeemed church; for God brought
destruction on Babylon for the injuries thqy did to God's
children, as is often set forth in the prophets. It also pro
moted the work of redemption, as thereby God's people
who were held captive by them, were set at liberty to re
turn to their own land in order to rebuild Jerusalem ; and
therefore Cyrus is called God's shepherd, Isa. xliv. and
xiv. 1. And these are over and above those ways wherein
the setting up and overthrowing the four monarchies of the
world did promote the work of redemption.
IV. What next followed was the return of the Jews to
their own land, and the rebuilding of Jerusalem and the
temple. Cyrus, as soon as he had destroyed the Babylonish,
and erected the Persian empire on its ruins, made a decree
in favour of the Jews, that they might return to their own
land, and rebuild their city and temple. This return of
the Jews out of the Babylonish captivity is, next to the
redemption out of Egypt, the most remarkable of all the
Old-Testament redemptions, and most insisted on in Scrip
ture, as a type of the great redemption of Jesus Christ.
It was under the hand of one of the legal ancestors of
Christ, viz. Zerubbabel, the son of Shealtiel, whose Ba
bylonish name was Sheshbazzar. He was the governor of
the Jews, and their leader in their first return out of cap
tivity ; and, together with Joshua the son of Josedek the
high priest, had the chief hand in rebuilding the temple.
This redemption was brought about by the hand of Zerub
babel and Joshua the priest, as the redemption out of
Egypt was brought about by the hand of Moses and
Aaron. The return out of the captivity was a remarkable dis
pensation of Providence. It was remarkable, that the
heart of a heathen prince, Cyrus, should, be so inclined to
favour such a design. He not only gave the people liberty
to return, and rebuild the city and temple, but gave charge
that they should be helped with silver and gold, with goods,
and beasts, as we read in Ezra i. 4. And afterwards God
wonderfully inclined the heart of Darius to further the
building of the house of God with his own tribute-money,
and gave command to their bitter enemies, the Samaritans,
who had been striving to hinder them, to help them with
out fail, by furnishing them with all that they needed in
order to it, and to supply them day by day. He made a
decree, that whosoever failed of it, timber should be pull
ed down out of his house, and he hanged thereon, and his
house made a dunghill, (Ezra vi.) After this, God inclined
the heart of Artaxerxes, another king of Persia, to promote
the work of preserving the state of the Jews, by his ample
commission to Ezra, (Ezra vii.) He helped them abund
antly with silver and gold out of his own bounty, and of
fered more, as should be needful, out of the king's treasure-
house, commanding his treasurers beyond the river Eu
phrates to give more, as should be needed, unto a hundred
talents of silver, a hundred measures of wheat, a hundred
baths of wine, a hundred baths of oil, and salt, without pre
scribing how much. He gave leave to establish magistrates
in the land ; freeing the priests of toll, tribute, custom, and
other things, which render this decree by Artaxerxes the most
full and ample in the Jews' favourof any that had been given
for the restoring of Jerusalem ; and therefore, in Daniel's
prophecy, this is called the decree for restoring and building
Jerusalem ; and hence the seventy weeks are dated.
After this, another favourable commission was granted
by the king of Persia to Nehemiah, (chap, ii.) — It was re
markable, that the hearts of heathen princes should be so
inclined, lt v/as tbe effect of his power, who hath the
hearts of kings in his hands, and turneth them whithei-

soever he will ; and it was a remarkable instance of his
favour to his people.
Another remarkable circumstance of this restitution of
the state of the Jews to their own land was, that it was
accomplished against so much opposition of their bitter in
defatigable enemies, the Samaritans, who, for a long time
together, with all the malice and craft they could exercise,
opposed the Jews in this affair, and sought their destruc
tion. One while they were opposed by Bishlam, Mithri-
dath, Tabeel, Rehum, and Shimshai, as in Ezra iv. and
then by Tatnai, Shetharboznai, and their companions, as in
chap. v. and afterwards by Sanballat and Tobiah, as we
read in the book of Nehemiah.
We have showed before, how the settlement of the
people in this land in Joshua's time promoted the work of
redemption. On the same accounts does their restitution
belong to the same work. The re-settlement of the Jews
in the land of Canaan belongs to this work, as it was a
necessary means of preserving the Jewish church and dis
pensation in being, till Christ should come. If it had not
been for this restoration ofthe Jewish church, temple, and
worship, the people had remained without any temple, or
land of their own, that should be as it were their head
quarters, a place of worship, habitation, and resort. The
whole constitution, which God had done so much to
establish, would have been in danger of utterly failing,
long before the six hundred years had expired, which was
from about the time of the captivity till Christ. And so
all that preparation which God had been making for the
coming of Christ, from the time of Abraham, would have
been in vain. Now that very temple was built that God
would fill with glory by Christ's coming into it, as the pro
phets Haggai and Zecliariah told the Jews in order to en
courage them in building it.
V. The next particular I would observe, is the addition
made to the canon of the Scriptures soon after the captivity
by the prophets Haggai and Zechariah, who were prophet's
sent to encourage the people in their work of rebuilding
the city and temple ; and the main argument they use to
that end, is the approach of the coming of Christ. Hag
gai foretold that Christ should be of Zerubbabel's legal
posterity. This seems to be the last and most particular
revelation of the descent of Christ, till the angel Gabriel
was sent to reveal it to his mother Mary.
VI. The next thing I would take notice of, was the
pouring out of the Spirit of God that accompanied the
ministry of Ezra the priest after the captivity. That there
was such an effusion of the Spirit of God, that accom
panied Ezra's ministry, is manifest by many things in the
books of Ezra and Nehemiah. Presently after Ezra came
up from Babylon, with the ample commission which Ar
taxerxes gave him, whence Daniel's seventy weeks began,
he set himself to reform the vices and corruptions he found
among the Jews ; and his great success in it we have an
accountofin the 10th chapter of Ezra. So that there ap
peared a very general and great mourning of the congre
gation of Israel for their sins, which was accompanied with
a solemn covenant that the people entered into with God ;
and this was followed with a great and general reformation,
as we have there an account. And the people about the
same time, with great zeal, earnestness, and reverence,
gathered themselves together to hear the word of God read
by Ezra; and gave diligent attention, while Ezra and the
other priests preached to them, by reading and expound
ing the law, and were greatly affected in the hearing of it.
They wept when they heard the words of the law, and set
themselves to observe it, and kept the feast of tabernacles,
as the Scripture observes, after such a manner as it had not
been kept since the days of Joshua the son of Nun, (Neh.
viii.) After this, having separated themselves from all
strangers, they solemnly observed a fast, by hearing the
word, confessing their sins, and renewing their covenant
with God. And they manifested their sincerity in that
transaction, by actually reforming many abuses in religion
and morals ; as we learn from the 9th and following chap
ters of Nehemiah.
It is observable, that it has been God's manner, on every
remarkable new establishment of the state of his visible
church, to afford a remarkable outpouring of his Spirit.
So it was on the first establishment of the church of the-

.66

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

Jews at their coming into Canaan under Joshua ; so it
was now in this second settlement of the church in the
time of Ezra ; and so it was on the first establishment of
the christian church after Christ's resurrection ; God wise
ly and graciously laying the foundation Of those establish
ments in a work of the Holy Spirit, for the lasting benefit
of his church, thenceforward continued in those establish
ments. And this pouring out of the Spirit, was a final
cure of the nation of that particular sin which just before
they especially run into, viz. intermarrying with the Gen
tiles : for however inclined to it they were before, they ever
after showed an aversion to it.
VII. Ezra added to the canon of the Scriptures. He
wrote the book of Ezra.; and he is supposed to have
written the two books of Chronicles, at least of compiling
them, if he was not the author of the materials, or all the
parts, of these writings. That these books were written, or
compiled and completed, after the captivity, the things
contained in the books themselves make manifest ; for the
genealogies contained therein, are brought down below the
captivity; as 1 Chron. iii. 17, &c. We have there an
account of the posterity of Jehoiachin for several successive
generations. And there is mention in these books of this
captivity into Babylon, as of a thing past, and of things
that were done on the return of the Jews after the cap
tivity, (1 Chron. ix.) The chapter is mostly filled up with
an account of things that came to pass after the captivity
into Babylon, as you may see by comparing it with what
is said in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. And that
Ezra was the person who compiled these books, is pro
bable by this, hecause they conclude with words that we
know are the words of Ezra's history. The two last verses
are Ezra's words in the history he gives in the two first
verses of the book of Ezra.
VIII. Ezra is supposed to have collected all the books
of which the Holy Scriptures did then consist, and disposed
them in their proper order. Ezra is often spoken of as a
noted and eminent scribe of the law of God, and the canon
of Scripture in his time was manifestly under his special
care. The Jews, from the first accounts we have from
them, have always held, that the canon of Scripture, so
much of it as was then extant, was collected, and orderly
disposed and settled, by Ezra ; and that from him they
have delivered it down in the order in which he disposed
it, till Christ's time ; when the christian church received
it from them, and have delivered it down to our times.
The truth of this is allowed as undoubted by divines in
general. IX. The work of redemption was carried on and pro
moted in this period, by greatly multiplying the copies of
the law, and appointing the constant public reading of
them in all the cities of Israel in their synagogues. It is
evident, that before the captivity, there were but few
copies of the law. The original was laid up beside the
ark ; and the kings were required to write out a copy of it
for their use, and the law was required to be read to the
whole congregation of Israel once every seventh year.
And we have no account of any other stated public read
ing of the law before the captivity but this. And it is
manifest by several things that might be mentioned, that
copies of the law were exceeding rare before the captivity.
But after this, the constant reading of the law was set up
in every synagogue throughout the land. First, they began
with reading the law, and then they proceeded to establish
the constant reading of the other books of the Old Testa
ment. And lessons were read out of the Old Testament,
as made up of both the law and the other parts of the Scrip
ture then extant, in all the synagogues, which were set up
in every city, and wherever the Jews in any considerable
number dwelt. Thus we find it was in the time of Christ
and the apostles. Acts xv. 21. " Moses of old time hath
in every city them that preach him, being read in the syna
gogues every sabbath-day." T.iis custom is universally
supposed, both by Jews and Christians, to be begun by
Ezra. There were doubtless public assemblies before the
captivity. They used to assemble at the temple at their
great feasts, and were directed, when they were at a loss
about any thing in the law, to go to the priest for instruc
tion ; and they used also to resort to the prophets' houses :
and we read of synagogues in the land before, Psal. lxxiv.

8. But it is not supposed that they had copies of the law
for constant public reading and expounding through the
land before. This was one great means of their being
preserved from idolatry.
X. The next thing I would mention, is God's remark
ably preserving the church and nation of the Jews, when
they were in imminent danger of being universally de
stroyed by Haman, as in the book of Esther. This series
of providence was very wonderful in preventing this de
struction. Esther was doubtless born for this end, to be
the instrument of this remarkable preservation.
XI. After this the canon of Scripture was further en
larged in the books of Nehemiah and Esther ; the one by
Nehemiah himself. Whether the other was written by
Nehemiah, or Mordecai, or Malachi, is not of importance
for us to know, so long as it is one of those books that
were always admitted and received as a part of their canon
by the Jews, and was among those books which the Jews
called their Scriptures in Christ's time, and as such was
approved by him. For Christ often in his speeches to
the Jews, manifestly approves and confirms those books,
which amongst them went by the name of the Scriptures,
as might easily be shown.
XII. After this the canon of the Old Testament was
completed and sealed by Malachi. The manner of his
concluding his prophecy seems to imply, that they were to
expect no more prophecies, and no more written revela
tions from God, till Christ should come. For in the last
chapter he prophesies of Christ's coming ; ver. 2, 3. " But
unto j ou that fear my name, shall the Sun of righteousness
arise with healing in his wings ; and ye shall go forth and
grow up as calves of the stall. And ye shall tread down
the wicked ; for they shall be as ashes under the soles of
your feet, in the day that I shall do this, saith the Lord of
hosts." Then we read in ver. 4. " Remember ye the law
of Moses mv servant, which I commanded unto him in
Horeb for all Israel, with the statutes and judgments,"
i. e. Remember and improve what ye have ; keep close to
your written rule, as expecting no more additions to it,
till the night of the Old Testament is over, and the Sun of
righteousness shall at length arise.
XIII. Soon after this, the spirit of prophecy ceased
among that people till the time of the New Testament.
Thus the Old-Testament light, the stars of the long night,
began apace to hide their heads, the time of the Sun of
righteousness now drawing nigh. We before observed,
how the kings of the house of David ceased before the
true king and head ofthe church came ; and how the cloud
of glory withdrew, before Christ, the brightness of the
Father's glory, appeared. And now the spirit of prophecy
ceased. The time of the great prophet of God was now
so nigh, it was time for their typical prophets to be silent.
We have now gone through the time of which we have
any historical account in the writings of the Old Testa
ment ; and the last thing mentioned, by which the work
of redemption was promoted, was the ceasing of the spirit
of prophecy. — I now proceed to show how the work of
redemption was carried on through the remaining times
before Christ. In this we have not that thread of scrip
ture history to guide us that we have had hitherto ; but
have these three things, viz. the prophecies of the Old
Testament, human histories, and some occasional evidence
of things which happened in those times, in the New
Testament. Therefore,
XIV. The next particular that I shall mention under
this period, is the destruction of the Persian empire, and
setting up of the Grecian empire by Alexander. This
came to pass about sixty or seventy years after the times
wherein the prophet Malachi is supposed to have prophe
sied, and about three hundred and thirty years before
Christ. This was the third revolution that came to pass
in this period, and was greater and more remarkable than
either of the foregoing. It was very remarkable on account
of the suddenness of that conquest which Alexander made,
and the greatness of the empire he set up, which much
exceeded in extent all the foregoing.
This event is much spoken of in the prophecies of Daniel.
This empire is represented by the third kingdom of brass
in Daniel's interpretation of Nebuchadnezzar's dream,

Part VI.

FROM THE CAPTIVITY TO CHRIST.

5 67

Dan. 11. And in Daniel's vision of the four beasts, it is
represented by the third beast that was like a leopard, that
had on his back four wings of a fowl, to represent the
swiftness of its conquest, chap. vii. and is more particularly
represented by the he-goat in the 8th chapter, that came
from the west on the face of the whole earth, and touched
not the ground, to represent how swiftly Alexander over
ran the world. The angel himself expressly interprets
this he-goat to signify the king of Grecia, ver. 21. " The
rough goat is the king of Grecia; and the great horn that
is between his eyes is the first king," i. e. Alexander
himself. After Alexander had conquered the world, he soon
died ; and his dominion did not descend to his posterity,
but four of his principal captains divided his empire
between them. Now that being broken, and four stood
up for it, four kingdoms stand up out of the nation, but
not in his power ; as in the 11th chapter of Daniel. The
angel after foretelling the Persian empire, proceeds to
foretell Alexander, ver. 3. " And a mighty king shall
stand up, that shall rule with great dominion, and do
according to his will." Then he' foretells, in the 4th
verse, the dividing of his kingdom between his four cap
tains : " And when he shall stand up, his kingdom shall
be broken, and shall be divided toward the four winds of
heaven ; and not to his posterity, nor according to his
dominion which he ruled:, for his kingdom shall be
plucked up, even for others besides those. Of these four
captains, one had Egypt and the neighbouring countries
on the south of Judea ; and another had Syria and the
neighbouring countries north of Judea ; and these two are
called the kings ofthe north and qf the south. (Dan. xi.)
Now, this setting up of the Grecian empire did greatly
prepare the way for Christ's coming, and for the erection of
nis kingdom. Besides the ways common to others in this
period, there is one peculiar to this revolution, which
remarkably promoted the work of redemption ; and that
was, that it made the Greek language common in the
world. To have one common language understood and
used through the greater part of the world, must greatly
prep-re the way for the setting up of Christ's kingdom.
This gave advantage for spreading the gospel through all
nations, with vastly greater ease, than if every nation had
a distinct language, and did not understand each other.
For though some of the first preachers of the gospel had
the gift of tongues, so that they could preach in any
language ; yet all had not this particular gift ; and they
who had could not exercise it when they would, but only
at special seasons, when the Spirit of God was pleased to
inspire them in this way. And the churches in different
and distant parts of the world, as at Jerusalem, Antioch,
Galatia, Corinth, &c. could not have had that communi
cation of which we have an account in the book of Acts,
without a common language. — After the Grecian empire
was set up, many in all these countries well understood
the Greek language ; which wonderfully opened the door
for mutual communication between those churches which
were so far separated one from another.
Again, making the Greek language common through so
great a part of the world, did wonderfully make way for
the kingdom of Christ, because it was the language in
which the New Testament was to be originally written.
The apostles propagated the gospel through many scores
of nations ; and if those nations could not have under
stood the Bible any otherwise than as it was translated
into so many languages, it would have rendered the
spreading of the gospef vastly more difficult. But by the
Greek being made common to all, they all understood the
New Testament of Jesus Christ in the language in which
the apostles and evangelists originally wrote it. As soon
as ever it was written by its original penmen, it imme-
* On the death of Alexander the Great, Ptolemy Lagus assumed the
regal title in Egypt He was succeeded by Ptolemy Philadelphus, Ever-
getes, and Philopater. This last, no doubt, is the person to whom our
author here alludes. He was a cruet tyrant, revengeful and debauched.
Having been at Jerusalem, during his expedition to Syria, and having been
denied an entrance into tbe temple, he was greatly enraged against the
whole body of the Jews. There were great numbers of them at Alexandria ;
these he degraded into slaves. The only condition by which a mark of
disgrace with hot iron, and consequent slavery, could be avoided, was to
' offer sacrifice to his gods. Out of many thousands, only three hundred
yielded by base compliance. These being excommunicated by their
brethren, roused Philopater into greater fury He meditated nothing less

diately lay open to the world in a language that was com
monly understood.
XV. The next thing I notice is the translating of the
Old Testament into the Greek language, which was com
monly understood by the Gentiles. This is commonly
called the Septuagint, or the translation of the Seventy";
and is supposed to have been made about fifty or sixty
years after Alexander's conquests. This is the first trans
lation that ever was made of the Scriptures that we have
any credible account of. The canon of the Old Testa
ment had been completed by the prophet Malachi but
about a hundred and twenty years before in its original.
Hitherto the Scriptures had remained locked up among
the Jews in the Hebrew tongue, which was understood by
no other nation ; but now it was translated into a language
that was commonly understood by the nations of the
world. This translation of the Old Testament is still extant,
and is of great use. The Jews have many fables about
the occasion and manner of this translation ; but the truth
of the case is supposed to be this, that multitudes of the
Jews living in other parts of the world besides Judea, and
being born and bred among the Greeks, the Greek became
their common language. These not understanding the
original Hebrew, they procured the Scriptures to be trans
lated for their use into the Greek language : and so hence
forward the Jews, in all countries, except Judea, were
wont in their synagogues to make use of this translation
instead of the Hebrew.
This translation of the Scriptures into a language so
commonly understood through the world, greatly prepared
the way for setting up Christ s kingdom in the world. For
the apostles commissioned to preach through the world,
made great use of the scriptures of the Old Testament, and
especially of the prophecies concerning Christ that were con
tained in them. By means of this translation, and by the
Jews being scattered every where, they had the Scriptures
at hand in a language understood by the Gentiles. Hence
they principally made use of this translation in their
preaching and writings wherever they went. In all the
numerous quotations out of the Old Testament in their
writings, they are made almost every where in the very
words of the Septuagint. The sense is the same as in the
original Hebrew ; though the words are different. But yet
this makes it evident, that the apostles in their preaching
and writings, commonly made use of this translation.
And this translation was principally used in christian
churches through most nations of the world, for several
hundred years after Christ.
XVI. The next thing is the wonderful preservation of
the church when it was eminently threatened and perse
cuted under the Grecian empire. The first time they
were threatened was by Alexander himself. When be
sieging the city of Tyre, he sent to the Jews for assistance
and supplies for his army. Out of a conscientious regard
to their oath to the king of Persia, they refused ; but he
being a man of a very furious spirit, agreeable to the
scripture representation of the rough he-goat, marched
against them, with a design to cut them off. When he
met the priests going out to him in their priestly gar
ments, God wonderfully turned his heart to spare them,
and favour them, as he did the heart of Esau when he
met Jacob.
After this, one of the kings of Egypt, a successor of one
of Alexander's four captains, entertained a design of de
stroying the nation of the Jews;4' but was remarkably
and wonderfully prevented by a stronger interposition of
Heaven for their preservation.
But the most wonderful preservation of them all in this
period was under the cruel persecution of Antiochus Epi
phanes, king of Syria, and successor of another of Alex-
than the utter ruin ofthe whole nation, beginning with those of Alexandria.
He ordered them to be brought into the Hippodrome, an immense place
without the city where the people usually assembled to see public races and
diversions, and gave a peremptory injunction that five hundred elephants
should be let loose upon them in that place. The first appointed day, the
king, who was to have been present, overslept himself after a nocturnal de
bauch. The second passed by a similar disappointment. On the third day
the king came to the Hippodrome, and the elephants were let loose upon the
defenceless Jews.— But, by a wonderful providence, these animals turned
upon the spectators and soldiers, and great numbers were killed by them.
This, attended with some other circumstances of affright, induced the tyrant
to desist from his cruel purpose. — W.

568

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

ander's four captains. The Jews were at that time subject
to the power of Antiochus ; and he being enraged against
them, long strove to his utmost utterly to destroy them,
and root them out ; at least all of them that would not
forsake their religion, and worship his idols. He did in
deed in a great measure waste the country, and depopulate
the city of Jerusalem ; and profaned the temple, by setting
up his idols in some parts of it ; and persecuted the people
with insatiable cruelty ; so that we have no account of any
persecution like this before. Many of the particular cir
cumstances of this persecution would be very affecting
were there time to insist on them. This cruel persecution
began about a hundred and seventy years before Christ.
It is spoken of in the prophecy of Daniel, Dan. viii. 9,
25. xi. 31 — 38. and in the New Testament, Heb. xi.
36—38. Antiochus intended not only to extirpate the Jewish
religion, but, as far as in him lay, the very nation ; and
particularly laboured to the utmost to destroy all copies of
the law. And considering how weak they were, in com
parison with a king of such vast dominion, the providence
of God appears very wonderful in defeating his design.
Many times the Jews seemed to be on the very brink of
ruin, just ready to be wholly swallowed up ; and their
enemies often thought themselves sure of obtaining then-
purpose. They once came against the people with a mighty
army, with a design of killing all, except the women and
children, and of selling these for slaves ; and so confident
were they of obtaining their purpose, and others of pur
chasing, that above a thousand merchants came with the
army, with money in their hands, to buy the slaves that
should be sold. But God wonderfully stirred up and
assisted one Judas, and others his successors, called the
Maccabees, who, with a small handful in comparison
vanquished their enemies time after time, and delivered
their nation. This also was foretold by Daniel, xi. 32.
Speaking of Antiochus's persecution, he says, " And such
as do wickedly against the covenant, shall be corrupt by
flatteries : but the people that do know their God, shall be
strong and do exploits."
God afterwards brought this Antiochus to a fearful,
miserable end, by a loathsome disease, under dreadful
torments of body and horrors of mind ; which was fore
told, (Dan. xi. 45.) in these words, " Yet he shall come to
his end, and none shall help him." After his death, there
were attempts still to destroy the church ; but God baffled
them all.
XVII. The next thing is the destruction of the Grecian,
and setting up of the Roman, empire. This was the fourth
revolution in this period. And though it was brought to
pass more gradually than the setting up of the Grecian
empire, yet it far exceeded that, and was much the great
est and largest temporal monarchy that ever was in the
world ; so that the Roman empire was commonly called
all the world ; as in Luke ii. 1 . " And there went out a
decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be
taxed :" i. e. all the Roman empire.
This empire is spoken of as much the strongest and
greatest of any of the four : Dan. ii. 40. " And the fourth
kingdom shall be strong as iron : forasmuch as iron break-
eth in pieces, and subdueth all things : and as iron that
breaketh all these, shall it break in pieces, and bruise."
Dan. vii. 7, 19, 23. The time when the Romans first
conquered and subdued the land of Judea, was between
sixty and seventy years before Christ. Soon after this, the
Roman empire was established in its greatest extent ; and
the world continued subject to it henceforward till Christ
came, and many hundred years after.
The nations being thus united under one monarchy when
Christ came, and when the apostles went forth to preach
the gospel, greatly prepared the way for the spreading of
the gospel, and the setting up of Christ's kingdom in the
world. — For the world being thus subject to one govern
ment, it opened a general communication, and so oppor
tunity was given for the more swift propagation of the
gospel. Thus we find it in the British dominions, the
communication is quick from one part to another. There
are innumerable difficulties in travelling through different
nations, that are under different independent governments,
which there are not in travelling through different parts of

the same realm, or different dominions of the same prince.
So the world being under one government, that of the
Romans, facilitated the apostles' travelling.
XVIII. About the same time learning and philosophy
were risen to their greatest height in the heathen world. —
Almost all the famous philosophers among the heathen,
were after the captivity into Babylon. Almost all the wise
men of Greece and Rome flourished in this time. What
these philosophers in general chiefly professed as their
business, was to inquire, wherein man s chief happiness
lay, and how to obtain it. They seemed earnestly to busy
themselves in this inquiry, and wrote multitudes of books
about it, many of which are still extant ; but they were
exceedingly divided, there having been reckoned several
hundreds of different opinions which they had concerning
it. Thus they wearied themselves in vain, wandering in
the dark, not having the glorious gospel to guide them,
God was pleased to suffer men to do the utmost that they
could with human wisdom, and to try the utmost extent of
their own understandings in order to find out the way
to happiness, before the true light came to enlighten the
world. God suffered these great philosophers to try what
they could do for six hundred years together ; and then it
proved by the events of so long a time, that all they could
do was in vain ; the world not becoming wiser, better, or
happier under their instructions, but growing more and
more foolish, wicked, and miserable. He suffered this,
that it might be seen how far reason and philosophy could
go in their highest ascent, that tbe necessity of a divine
teacher might more convincingly appear. God was pleased
to make foolish the wisdom of this world — to show men
the folly of their best wisdom — by the doctrines of his
glorious gospel, which were above the reach of all their
philosophy. See 1 Cor. i. 19 — 21.
After God had showed the vanity of human learning,
when set up in the room of the gospel, God was pleased
to make it subservient to the purposes of Christ's kingdom,
as a handmaid to divine revelation. Thereby the vanity
of human wisdom was shown, and the necessity of the
gospel appeared ; and hereby a handmaid was prepared
to the gospel. An instance of this we have in the apostle
Paul, who was famed for his much learning, (Acts xxvi.
24.) being skilled in the learning not only of the Jews,
but also of the philosophers. This he improved to subserve
the gospel ; as he did in disputing with the philosophers
at Athens, Acts xvii. 22, &c. By his learning he knew
how to accommodate himself in his discourses to learned
men, having read their writings ; and he cites their own
poets. Dionysius, a philosopher, was converted by him,
and was made a great instrument of promoting the gospel.
And there were many others in that and the following ages,
who were eminently useful by their human learning in
promoting the interests of Christ's kingdom.
XIX. Just before Christ was born, the Roman empire
was raised to its greatest height, and also settled in peace.
About four and twenty years before Christ, Augustus
Caesar, the first Roman emperor, began to rule as emperor
of the world. Till then the Roman empire had of a long
time been a commonwealth under the government of the
senate : but then it became an absolute monarchy. This
personage, as he was the first, so he was the greatest of all
the Roman emperors : he reigned in the greatest glory.
Thus the power of the heathen world, which was Satan's
visible kingdom, was raised to its greatest height, after it
had been strengthening itself more and more from the days
of Solomon, which was about a thousand years. Now the
heathen world was in its greatest glory for strength, wealth,
and learning.
God did two things to prepare the way for Christ's
coming, wherein he took a contrary metbod from that
which human wisdom would have taken. He brought his
own visible people very low, and made them weak ; but
the heathen, his enemies, he exalted to the greatest height,
for the more glorious triumph of the cross of Christ. With
a small number in their greatest weakness, he conquered
his enemies in their greatest glory. Thus Christ triumphed
over principalities and powers in his cross.
Augustus Caesar had been for many years establishing
his empire, and subduing his enemies, "till the very year
that Christ was born : when, all his enemies being sub-

Part VII.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE FIRST PERIOD.

569

dued, his dominion over the world seemed to be gloriously
settled. All was established in peace ; in token whereof
the Romans shut the temple of Janus, which was an
established symbol among them of there being universal
peace throughout the empire. And this universal peace,
which was begun that very year in which Christ was
born, lasted twelve years, even till the year that Christ
disputed with the doctors in the temple.
Thus the world, after it had been, as it were, in a con
tinual convulsion for so many hundred years together —
like the four winds striving together on the tumultuous
raging ocean, whence arose those four great monarchies —
was now established in the greatest height of the fourth
and last monarchy, and settled in quietness. Now all
things are ready for the birth of Christ. This remarkable
universal peace, after so many ages of tumult and war,
was a fit prelude for ushering the glorious Prince of peace
into the world.
Thus I have gone through the first grand period of the
whole space between the fell of man and the end of the
world, viz. from the fall to the time of the incarnation of
Christ ; and have shown the truth of the first proposition,
via. That from the fall of man to the incarnation of Christ,
God was doing those things which were preparatory to
Christ's coming, and were forerunners of it.

PART VII.
IMPROVEMENT OF THE FIRST PERIOD.
Before I proceed to the next period, I would make some
few remarks, by way of improvement upon what has been
said under this.
I. From what has been said, we may strongly argue,
that Jesus of Nazareth is indeed the Son of God, and the
Saviour of the world ; and so that the christian religion is
the true religion, seeing that Christ is the very person so
evidently pointed at, m all the great dispensations of
Divine Providence from the very fall of man, and was so
undoubtedly in so many instances foretold from age to
age, and shadowed forth in a vast variety of types and
figures. If we seriously consider the course of things from
the beginning, and ODserve the motions of all the great
wheels ofprovidence, we shall discern that they all tend
hither. They are all as so many lines, whose course, if
it be observed and accurately followed, will be found to
centre here. It is so very plain in many things, that it
would argue stupidity to deny it. This person, sent from
God, came into the world with his commission and autho
rity, to do his work, and to declare his mind. The
Governor of the world, in all his great works towards
Jews and Gentiles, down to the time of Christ's birth,
has declared it. It is a plain and evident truth, that he
who was bom at Bethlehem, who dwelt at Nazareth and
Capernaum, and who was crucified without the gates of
Jerusalem, must be the great Messiah. Blessed are all
they that believe in and confess him, and miserable are
all that deny him. This shows the unreasonableness of
the deists, who deny revealed religion, and of the Jews,
who deny that this Jesus is the Messiah foretold and
promised to their fathers.
Here should any object, That it may be, some cunning
men contrived this history, and these prophecies, on pur
pose to prove that he is the Messiah. To such it may be
replied, How could such a thing be contrived by cunning
men to point to Jesus Christ, long before he ever was
born ? How could they know that any such person would
be born ? And how could their subtlety help them to
foresee and point at an event that was to come to pass
many ages afterwards 7 For no fact can be more evident,
than that the Jews had those writings long before Christ
was born : as they have them still in great veneration, in
all their dispersions through the world. They would
never have received such a contrivance from Christians, to
prove Jesus to be the Messiah, whom they always denied ;

and much less would they have been made to believe that
they always had those books in their hands, if they had
been an imposition.
II. What has been said, affords a strong argument for
the divine authority of the books of the Old Testament,
from that admirable harmony there is in them, whereby they
all point to the same thing. For we may see by what has
been said, how all the parts of the Old Testament, though
written by so many different penmen, and in ages so dis
tant, harmonize one with another. All agree in one, and
centre in the same event ; which it was impossible for
any one of them to know, but by divine revelation.
Now, if the Old Testament was not inspired by God,
what account can be given of such an agreement f for if
these books were wntten without any divine direction,
then none of these penmen knew that there would come
such a person as Jesus Christ into the world ; his coming
was only a mere figment of their own brain : and if so,
how happened it, that this figment of theirs came to pass 1
How came a vain imagination of theirs, which they fore
told without any manner of ground for their prediction, to
be exactly fulfilled ? and especially how did they come
all to agree in it, all pointing exactly to the same thing,
though many of them lived so many hundred years dis
tant one from another ? — This admirable consent and
agreement in a future event, is therefore a clear and certain
evidence of the divine authority of those writings.
III. Hence we may learn how weak and ignorant the
objection is, against the Old Testament being the word of
God, because it consists so much of warlike histories and
civil transactions. Here, say some, we have histories of
their kings and rulers, their wars with neighbouring nations,
and the changes that happened in their state and govern
ment : but other nations used to keep histories of their
public affairs, as well as they ; why then should we think
that these histories which the Jews kept are the word of
God, more than those of other people ? What has been
said, shows the folly and vanity of such an objection.
For hereby it appears, that the case of these histories is
very different from that of all others. This history alone
gives us an account ofthe first original of all things ; and
this alone deduces things down to us in a wonderful series
from that original, giving an idea of the grand scheme of
Divine Providence, as tending to its great end. And, to
gether with the doctrines and prophecies contained in it,
the same book gives a view of the whole series of the great
events of Divine Providence, from the origin to the con
summation of all things ; exhibiting an excellent and glori
ous account of the wise and holy designs of the supreme
Governor in all. — No common history has had such pen
men. This history was all written by men who came with
evident signs and testimonies of their being prophets of
the most high God, immediately inspired. — And though
histories, yet containing those great events of providence
by which it appears how God has been carrying on the
glorious work of redemption from age to age, they are no
less full of divine instruction, and those things that show
forth Christ, and his glorious gospel, than the other parts
ofthe Holy Scriptures.
To object against a book's being divine, merely because
it is historical, is a poor fancy ; as if that could not be the
word of God which gives an account of what is past ; or
as though it were not reasonable to suppose, that God, in
a revelation he should give mankind, would give us any
relation of the dispensations of his own providence. If so,
it must be because his works are not worthy to be related :
or because the scheme of his government, and the series of
his dispensations towards his church, and the world he has
made, is not worthy that any record should be kept of it.
The objection, That it is a common thing for nations
and kingdoms to write histories and keep records of their
wars, and the revolutions that come to pass in their terri
tories, is so far from being a weighty objection against the
historical part of Scripture, as though it were not the word
of God, that it is a strong argument in favour of it. For
if the light of nature teaches all civilized nations to keep
records of the events of their government and the series
of their administrations, and to publish histories for the
information of others, how much more may we expect
that God would give the world a record of the dispensa-

570

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period I.

tions of his government, which doubtless is infinitely more
worthy of a history for our information ? If wise kings
have taken care that there should be good histories writ
ten of the nations over which they have reigned, shall we
think it incredible, that Jesus Christ should take care that
his church, which is his nation, his peculiar people, should
have in their hands a certain infallible history of their na
tion, and of his government of them ?
If it had not been for the history of the Old Testament,
how woefully should we have been left in the dark about
many things which the church of God needs to know !
How ignorant should we have been of God's dealings to
wards mankind, and towards his church, from the begin
ning ! We should have been wholly in the dark about the
creation of the world, the fall of man, the first rise and
continued progress of the dispensations of grace towards
fallen mankind. We should have known nothing how
God at first set up a church in the world, and how it was
preserved ; after what manner he governed it from the be
ginning ; how the light of the gospel first began to dawn
in the world ; how it increased, and how things were pre
paring for the coming of Christ.
If we are Christians, we belong to that building of God
that has been the subject of our discourse : but if it had
not been for the history of the Old Testament, we should
never have known what was the first occasion of God's
going about this building, how the foundation of it was
laid, and how it has gone on from the beginning. The
times of the history of the Old Testament are mostly such
as no other history includes ; and therefore, if God had
not taken care to give and preserve an account of these
things for us, we should have been wholly without them.
Those that object against the authority of the Old-Tes
tament history, may as well object against Moses's account
of the creation ; for, in the former, we have a history of a
work no less important, viz. the work of redemption.
Yea, this is a far greater and more glorious work. If it
be inquired which of the two works, that of creation, or
that of providence, is greatest? it must be answered, the
work of providence ; but the work of redemption is the
greatest of the works of providence. — And let those who
make this objection consider what part of the Old-Testa
ment history can be spared, without making a great breach
in that thread or series of events by which this glorious
work has been carried on.  This leads me to observe,
IV. That, from what has been said, we may see much
of the wisdom of God in the composition of the Scrip
tures of the Old Testament, i. e. in the parts of which it
consists. Let us briefly take a view of the several parts
of it, and of the need there was of them.
It was necessary, for instance, that we should have some
account ofthe creation of the world, of our first parents,
and their primitive state ; of the fall, of the old world, and
its degeneracy ; of the universal deluge, and the origin of
nations after this destruction of mankind.
It seems necessary, moreover, that there should be
some account of the succession of the church of God from
the beginning. God suffered all the world to degenerate,
and took one nation only to be his people, to preserve the
true worship and religion till the Saviour of the world
should come. In them the world was gradually prepared
for that great light, and those wonderful things of which
he was to be the author. Thus they were a typical na
tion, that in them God might shadow forth and teach, as
under a vail, all the future glories of the gospel. It was
therefore necessary that we should have some account of
this ; how it was first effected by the call of Abraham,
and by their being bond-slaves in Egypt, and how they
were brought to Canaan, lt was necessary that we should
have some account of the revelation which God made of
himself to that people, in giving their law, in the appoint
ment of their typical worship, wherein the gospel is vailed,
and of the formation of their civil and ecclesiastical state.
It seems exceeding necessary that we should have some
account of their being actually brought to Canaan, the
country promised them and where they always dwelt ;
that we should have a history of the successions of the
church of Israel, and of those providences towards them,
which were most considerable and fullest of gospel mys
tery ; that we should have some account of the promised

external glory of that nation under David and Solomon,
and a very particular account of David, whose history is
so full ofthe gospel, and in whom began the race of their
kings ; and that we should have some account of the
building of the temple, which was also full of gospel-
mystery. And it is a matter of great consequence, that we should
have some account of Israel's dividing from Judah, and
of the ten tribes' captivity and utter rejection, and there
fore a brief history of them till that time; that we should
have an account of the succession of the kings of Judah,
and of the church, till their captivity into Babylon ; of
their return from captivity, and resettlement in their own
land, with the origin ofthe last -State of the church before
Christ came.
A little consideration will convince any one, that all
these things were necessary, and that none of them could
be spared ; and in the general, that it was necessary we
should have a history of God's church till such times as
are within the reach of human histories. It was of vast
importance that we should have an inspired history of
those times of the Jewish church, wherein there was kept
up a more extraordinary intercourse between God and
them, while he used to dwell among them as it were visi
bly, revealing himself by the Shechinah, by Urim and
Thummim, and by prophecy, and so more immediately to
order their affairs. And it was necessary that we should
have some account of the great dispensations of God in
prophecy, after the finishing of inspired history ; for which
it was needful that there should be a number of prophets
raised who should foretell the coming of the Son of God,
and the nature and glory of his kingdom, as so many har
bingers to make way for him, and that their prophecies
should remain in the church.
It was also a matter of great consequence that the
church should have a book of divine songs given by in
spiration from God, wherein there should be a lively
representation of the tme spirit of devotion, of faith,
hope, and divine love, of joy, resignation, humility, obe
dience, repentance, &c. as in the Psalms ; also that we
should have from God such books of moral instructions
as we have in Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, relating to the
affairs and state of mankind, and the concerns of human
life, containing rales of true wisdom and prudence for our
conduct in aU circumstances ; and that we should have
particularly a song representing the great love between
Christ and his spouse the church, adapted to the dispo
sition and holy affections of a true christian soul towards
Christ, and representing his grace and marvellous love to,
and delight in, his people, as in Solomon's Song. It is
important that we should have a book to teach us how to
conduct ourselves under affliction, seeing the church of
God here is in a militant state, and God's people through
much tribulation enter into the kingdom of heaven. The
church is for a long time under trouble, meets with fiery
trials, and extreme sufferings, before her time of peace
and rest in the latter ages of the world. Therefore God
has given us a book most proper in these circumstances,
the book of Job ; and though written on occasion of the
afflictions of a particular saint, it was probably at first
given to the church in Egypt under her afflictions there ;
and is made use of by the apostle to comfort Christians
under persecutions, James v. 11. "Ye have heard of the
patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord ; that
the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy." God was
also pleased, in this book of Job, to give some view of
the ancient divinity before the giving of the law.
Thus, from this brief review, I think it appears, that
every part of the scriptures of the Old Testament is very
useful and necessary, and no part of it can be spared
without loss to the church. And therefore the wisdom of
God is conspicuous in ordering, that the scriptures of the
Old Testament should consist of those very books of
which they do consist.
Before I dismiss this particular, I would add, that it is
very observable, that the history of the Old Testament is
large and particular where the great affair of redemption
required it ; even where there was most done towards this
work, most to typify Christ, and to prepare the wav for
him. Thus it is very particular in the history of Abraham

Part VII.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE FIRST PERIOD.

571

and the other patriarchs ; but very short in the account we
have of the time which the children of Israel spent in
Egypt. It is large in the account of the redemption out
of Egypt, and the first settling of the affairs of the Jewish
church and nation in the time of Moses and Joshua ; but
much shorter in the times of the judges. So again, it is
large and particular in the times of David and Solomon,
and then very short in the history of the ensuing reigns.
Thus the accounts are large and short, just as there is
more or less of the affair of redemption to be seen in
them. V. From what has been said, we may see, that Christ
and his redemption are the great subject of the whole
Bible. Conceming the New Testament, the matter is
plain ; and by what has been said, it appears to be so
also with respect to the Old Testament. Christ and his
redemption is the great subject of the prophecies of the
Old Testament, as has been shown. It has also been
shown, that he is the great subject of the songs of the Old
Testament ; and the moral rules and precepts are all given
in subordination to him. Christ and his redemption are
also the great subject of the history of the Old Testament
from the beginning all along ; and even the history of the
creation is brought in as an introduction to the history of
redemption that immediately follows it. The whole book,
both Old Testament and New, is filled up with the gospel ;
only with this difference, that the Old Testament contains
the gospel under a vail, but the New contains it unvailed,
so that we may see the glory of the Lord with open face.
VI. By what has been said, we may see the usefulness
and excellency of the Old Testament. Some are ready to
look on the Old Testament as being out of date, and as if
we in these days of the gospel have but little to do with
, it. But this is a very great mistake, arising from want of
observing the nature and design of the Old Testament,
which, if it were observed, would appear full of the gospel
of Christ, and would in an excellent manner illustrate and
confirm the glorious doctrines and promises of the New
Testament. Those parts of the Old Testament which are
commonly looked upon as containing the least divine in
struction, are mines and treasures of gospel-knowledge ;
and the reason why they are thought to contain so little
is, because persons do but superficially read them. The
treasures which are hid underneath are not observed. They
only look on the top of the ground, and suddenly pass a
judgment that there is nothing there. But they never dig
into the mine : if they did, they would find it richly stored
with what is more valuable than silver and gold, and would
be abundantly requited for their pains.
What has been said, may show us what a precious trea
sure God has committed into our hands, in that he has
given us the Bible. How little do most persons consider
what a privilege they enjoy, in the possession of that holy
book, the Bible, which they have in their hands, and may
converse with as they please. What an excellent book is
this, and how far exceeding all human writings ! It reveals
God to us, and gives us a view of the grand design and
glorious scheme of providence from the beginning of the
world, either in history or prophecy. It reveals the great
Redeemer, his glorious redemption, and the various steps
by which God accomplishes it from the first foundation
to the top-stone ! Shall we prize a history which gives us
a clear account of some great earthly prince, or mighty
warrior, as of an Alexander, a Caesar, or a Marlborough ?
and shall we not prize the history that God gives us of
the glorious kingdom of his Son Jesus Chnst, the Prince
and Saviour, and of the great transactions of that King
of kings, and Lord of armies, the Lord mighty in battle ;
and what he has wrought for the redemption of his chosen
people ?
VII. What has been said, may make us sensible how
much most persons are to blame for their inattentive, un
observant way of reading the Scriptures. How much

profitable matter do the Scriptures contain, if it were but
observed ! The Bible is the most comprehensive book in
the world. But what wili all this signify to us, if we read
it without observing what is the drift of the Holy Ghost
in it? The psalmist, (Psal. cxix. 18.) begs of God, "That
he would enlighten his eyes that he might Dehold wondrous
things out of his law." The Scriptures are full of wondrous
things. Those histories which are too commonly read as
if they were only private concerns of particular persons,
such as of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph ; of Ruth,
Joshua, the Judges, David and the Israelitish princes, are
accounts of vastly greater things, things of greater im
portance and more extensive concernment, than they who
read them are commonly aware of.
The histories of Scripture are but too commonly read,
as if they were written only to entertain men's fancies,
when the infinitely great things contained in them are
passed over without notice. Whatever treasures the
Scriptures contain, we shall be never the better for them
if we do not observe them. He that has a Bible, and
does not observe what it contains, is like a man who has
a box full of silver and gold, and does not know it, nor
observe that it is any thing more than a vessel filled with
common stones. He will be never the better for his trea
sure ; and so might as well be without it. He who has
plenty of the choicest food stored up in his house, and
does not know it, will never taste what he has, and will be
as likely to starve as if his house were empty.
VIII. What has been said, may show us how great a
person Jesus Christ is, and how great his errand into the
world, seeing there was so much done to prepare the way
for his coming. God had been preparing the way for him
through all ages of the world from the very beginning. If
we had notice of a certain stranger being about to come
into a country, and should observe that a great preparation
was made for him, great things were done, many altera
tions made in the state of the whole country, many hands
employed, persons of great note engaged in making the
preparation ; and all the affairs and concerns of the coun
try ordered so as to be subservient to the design of enter
taining that person, it would be natural for us to think,
surely this is some extraordinary person, and it is some
very great business that he is coming upon. How great a
person then must he be, for whose coming the great God
of heaven and earth, and Governor of all things, spent four
thousand years in preparing the way ! Soon after the world
was created, and from age to age, he has been doing great
things, bringing mighty events to pass, accomplishing
wonders without number, often overturning the world in
order to it. He has been causing every thing in the state
of mankind, and all revolutions and changes in the habit
able world, from generation to generation, to be subservi
ent to this great design. — Surely this must be some great
and extraordinary person, and a great work indeed it must
needs be, about which he is coming.
We read, (Matt. xxi. 8 — 10.) when Christ was coming
into Jerusalem, and multitudes ran before him, having cut
down branches of palm-trees, and strewed them in the
way ; and others spread their garments in the way, crying,
" Hosanna to the Son of David," that the whole city was
moved, saying, Who is this ? They wondered who that
extraordinary person should be, that there should be such
preparation made on occasion of his coming into the city.
But if we consider, what great things were done in all ages
to prepare the way for Christ's coming, and how the world
was often overturned to make way for it, much more may
we cry out, Who is this ? What great person is this ? and
say, (as in Psal. xxiv. 8, 10.) " Who is this King of glory,"
that God should show such respect, and put such vast
honour upon him ? Surely this person is honourable in
God's eyes, and greatly beloved of him ; and surely it is
a grand errand upon which he is sent.

572

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period II.

PERIOD II.

FROM CHRIST'S INCARNATION TO HIS RESURRECTION.

Having shown how the work of redemption was carried
on through the first period, from the fall of man to the in
carnation of Christ, I come now to the second period, viz.
the time of Christ's humiliation, or the space from his in
carnation to his resurrection. And- this is the most remark
able article of time that ever was or ever will be. Though
it was but between thirty and forty years, yet more was
done in it than had been done from the beginning of the
world to that time. We have observed, that all which had
been done from the fall to the incarnation of Christ, was
only preparatory for what was now done. And it may
also be observed, that all which was done before the be
ginning of time, in the eternal counsels between the per
sons of the blessed Trinity, chiefly respected this period.
We therefore now proceed to consider the second proposi
tion, viz.
That during the time of Christ's humiliation, from his
incarnation to his resurrection, the purchase of redemption
was made.
Though many things had been done in the affair of re
demption, though millions of sacrifices had been offered ;
yet nothing was done to purchase redemption before
Christ's incarnation. No part of the purchase was made,
no part of the price was offered till now. But as soon as
Christ was incarnate, the purchase began. — And the whole
time of Christ's humiliation, till the morning that he rose
from the dead, was taken up in this purchase. Then the
purchase was entirely and completely finished. As nothing
was done before Christ's incarnation, so nothing was done
after his resurrection, to purchase redemption for men.
Nor will there ever be any thing more done to all eternity.
That very moment when the human nature of Christ
ceased to remain under the power of death, the utmost
farthing was paid of the price of salvation for every one of
the elect.
But for the more orderly and regular consideration of
the great things done by our Redeemer to purchase re
demption for us, I would speak of his becoming incar
nate to capacitate himself for this purchase ; — and of the
purchase itself.

PART I.
OF CHRIST'S INCARNATION.
Christ became incarnate, or, which is the same thing,
became man, to put himself in a capacity for working out
our redemption. For though Christ, as God, was infinitely
sufficient for the work, yet to his being in an immediate
capacity for it, it was needful that he should not only be
God, but man. If Christ had remained only in the
divine nature, he would not have been in a capacity to
have purchased our salvation ; not from any imperfection
of the divine nature, but by reason of its absolute and in
finite perfection : for Christ, merely as God, was not
capable either of that obedience or suffering that was need
ful. The divine nature is not capable of suffering ; for it is
infinitely above all suffering. Neither is it capable of
obedience to that law which was given to man. It is as
impossible that one who is only God, should obey the law
that was given to man, as it is that he should suffer man's
punishment. And it was necessary not only that Christ should take
upon him a created nature, but that he should take upon
him our nature. It would not have sufficed for Christ to
have become an angel, and to have obeyed and suffered
in the angelic nature. But it was necessary that he should
become a man, upon three accounts.

1 . It was needful in order to answer the law, that the
very nature to which the law was given, should obey it.
Man's law could not be answered, but by being obeyed
by man. God insisted upon it, that the law which he
had given to man shall be honoured, and fulfilled by the
nature of man, otherwise the law could not be answered
for men. The words, " Thou shalt not eat thereof," &c.
were spoken to the race of mankind, to the human nature ;
and therefore the human nature must fulfil them.
2. It was needful to answer the law that the nature that
sinned should die. These words, " Thou shalt surely die,"
respect the human nature. The same nature to which the
command was given, was that to which the threatening was
directed. 3 . God saw meet, that the same world which, was the"
stage qf man's fall and ruin, should also be the stage of his
redemption. We read often of his coming into the world
to save sinners, and of God's sending him into the world
for this purpose. — It was needful that he should come into
this sinful, miserable, undone world, in order to restore and
save it. For man's recovery, it was needful that he should
come down to man, to man's proper habitation, and that
he should tabernacle with us : John i. 14. " The Word
was made flesh, and dwelt among us."
Concerning the incarnation of Christ, I would observe
these following things.
I. The incarnation itself ; in which especially two things
are to be considered, viz.
1 . His conception ; which was in the womb of one of
the race of mankind, whereby he became truly the Son of
man, as he was often called. He was one of the posterity
of Adam, a child of Abraham, and a son of David, accord
ing to God's promise. But his conception was — not in
the way of ordinary generation, but — by the power of the
Holy Ghost. Christ was formed in the womb of the Vir
gin, | of the substance of her body, by the power of the
Spirit of God. So that he was the immediate son of the
woman, but not the immediate son of any male whatso
ever ; and so was the seed of the woman, and the son of a
virgin, one that had never known man.
2. His birth. — Though the conception of Christ was
supernatural, yet after he was conceived, his human na
ture was gradually perfected in the womb ofthe virgin, in a
way of natural progress ; and so his birth was in the way
of nature. But his conception being supernatural, by the
power of the Holy Ghost, he was both conceived and born
without sin.
II. The second thing I would observe concerning the
incarnation of Christ, is the fulness of the time in which it
was accomplished. It was after things had been preparing
for it from the very first fall of mankind, and when all
things were ready. It came to pass at a time, which in
infinite wisdom was the most fit and proper : Gal. iv. 4.
"But when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth
his Son, made of a woman, made under the law."
It was now the most proper time on every account.
Any time before the flood would not have been so fit a
time. For then the mischief and ruin that the fall brought
on mankind, was not so fully seen. The curse did not so
fully come on the earth before the flood, as it did after
wards : for though the ground was cursed in a great mea
sure before, yet it pleased God that the curse should once,
before the restoration by Christ, be executed in an uni
versal destruction, even of the very form of the earth, that
the dire effects of the fall might be seen before the re
covery. Though mankind were mortal before the flood, yet
their lives were almost a thousand years in length, a kind
of immortality in comparison with what the life of man is
now. It pleased God, that the curse, Dust thou art, and
unto dust thou shalt return, should have its full accomplish
ment, and be executed in its greatest degree on mankind,
before the Redeemer came to purchase a never-ending life.

Part I.

OF CHRIST'S INCARNATION.

573

It would not have been so fit a time for Christ to come,
before Moses ; for till then mankind were not so univer
sally apostatized from the true God ; they were not fallen
universally into heathenish darkness ; and so the need of
Christ, the light of the world, was not so evident. The
woful consequence of the fall with respect to man's mor
tality, was not so fully manifest till then ; for man's life
was not so shortened as to be reduced to the present stand
ard, till about Moses's time.
It was most fit that the time of the Messiah's coming
should not be till all nations, but the'children of Israel, had
Iain long in heathenish darkness; that the remedilessness
of their disease might by long experience be seen, and so
the absolute necessity ofthe heavenly Physician.
Another reason why Christ did not come soon after the
flood probably was, that the earth might be full of people,
that he might have the more extensive kingdom, that the
effects of his light, power, and grace, might be glorified,
and that his victory over Satan might be attended with the
more glory in the multitude of his conquests. It was also
needful that the coming of Christ should be many ages
after Moses, that the church might be prepared by the
Messiah's being long prefigured, foretold, and expected.
It was not proper that Christ should come before the Ba
bylonish captivity, because Satan's kingdom was not then
come to its height. The heathen world before that con
sisted of lesser kingdoms. But God saw meet that the
Messiah should come in the time of one of the four great
monarchies. Nor was it proper that he should come in the
time of the Babylonish, the Persian, or the Grecian
monarchy. It was the will of God that his Son should
make his appearance in the world in the time of the Ro
man, the greatest and strongest monarchy, which was
Satan's visible kingdom in the world ; that, by overcoming
this, he might visibly overcome Satan's kingdom in its
greatest strength and glory, and so obtain the more com
plete triumph over Satan himself.
It was not proper that Christ should come before the
Babylonish captivity. For, before that, we have not his
tories of the state of the heathen world, to give us an idea
of the need of a Saviour. Besides, learning did not much
flourish, and so there had not been opportunity to show
the insufficiency of human learning and wisdom to reform
and save mankind. Again, the Jews were not dispersed
over the world, as they were afterwards ; and so things
were not prepared in this respect for the coming of Christ.
The necessity of abolishing the Jewish dispensation was
not then so apparent as it was afterwards, by reason of the
dispersion of the Jews ; neither was the way prepared for
the propagation ofthe gospel, as it was afterwards, by the
same dispersion. Many other things might be mentioned,
by which it would appear, that no other season before that
very time in which Christ came, would have been proper
for his appearing.
111. The next thing that I would observe concerning the
incarnation of Christ, is the greatness of this event. Christ's
incarnation was a greater and more wonderful thing than
ever had yet come to pass. The creation of the world was
a very great thing, but not so great as the incarnation of
Christ. It was a great thing for God to make the creature,
but not so great as for the Creator himself to become a
creature. We have spoken of many great things that were
accomplished between the fall of man and the incarnation
of Christ : but God becoming man was greater than all.
Then the greatest person was bom that ever was or ever
will be.
IV. Next observe, concerning the incarnation of Christ,
the remarkable circumstances ofjt. He was born of a poor
virgin ; a pious holy person, but poor, as appeared by her
offering at her purification : Luke ii. 24. " And to offer a
sacrifice according to that which is said in the law of the
Lord, A pair of turtle-doves, or two young pigeons."
Which refers to Lev. v. 7. " And if she be not able to
bring a lamb, then she shall bring two turtle-doves or two
young pigeons." And this poor virgin was espoused to a
husband who was but a poor man. Though they were
both of the royal family of David, which was the most
honourable, and Joseph was the rightful heir to the crown ;
vet the family was reduced to a very low state ; which is
represented by the tabernacle of David being fallen, Amos

ix. 11. " In that day will I raise up the tabernacle of
David that is fallen, and close up the breaches thereof,
and 1 will raise up his ruins, and 1 will build it as in the
days of old."
lie was born in the town of Bethlehem, as was foretold :
(Mic. v. 2.) and there was a very remarkable providence
of God to bring about the fulfilment of this prophecy, the
taxing of all the world by Augustus Caesar, (Luke ii.)
He was born in a very low condition, even in a stable, and
laid in a manger.
V. Observe the concomitants of this great event. — And,
1. The return of the Spirit ; which indeed began a little
before, but yet was given on occasion of his birth. I have
before observed how the spirit of prophecy ceased, not long
after Malachi. From about the same time visions and im
mediate revelations ceased also. But on this occasion,
they were granted anew, and the Spirit in these operations
returns again. The first revealed instance of its restoration
is the vision of Zacharias, the father of John the Baptist,
(Luke i.) The next is the vision which the Virgin Mary
had, (ibid.) The third is the vision which Joseph had,
(Matt, i.) In the next place, the Spirit was given to Elisa
beth, (Luke i. 41.) Next, it was given to Mary, as ap
pears by her song, (Luke i. 46, &c.) Then to Zacharias
again, (ibid. ver. 64.) Then it was sent to the shepherds,
(Luke ii. 9.) Then it was given to Simeon, (Luke ii. 25.)
Then to Anna, (ver. 36.) Then to the wise men in the
east. Then to Joseph again, directing him to flee into
Egypt; and after that directing his return.
2. The next concomitant of Christ's incarnation is, the
great notice that was taken of it in heaven, and on earth.
How it was noticed by the glorious inhabitants of the
heavenly world, appears by their joyful songs on this
occasion, heard by tne shepherds in the night. This was
the greatest event of Providence that ever the angels had
beheld. We read of their singing praises when they saw
the formation of this lower world : Job xxxviii. 7. " When
the morning-stars sang together, and all the sons of God
shouted for joy." And so they do, on this much greater
occasion, the birth of the Son of God, who is the Creator
of the world.
The glorious angels had all along expected this event.
They had taken great notice of the prophecies and pro
mises of these things : for we are told, that they desire to
look into the affairs of redemption, 1 Pet. i. 12. They
had been the ministers of Christ in this affair of redemp
tion, in all the several steps of it from the very fall of
man ; as in God's dealings with Abraham, with Jacob,
and with the Israelites. And doubtless they had long
joyfully expected the coming of Christ ; but now they see
it accomplished, and therefore greatly rejoice, and sing
praises on this occasion.
Notice was taken of it by Elisabeth and the Virgin
Mary before the birth of Christ ; not to say by John the
Baptist before he was bom, when he leaped in his mo
ther's womb as it were for joy, at the voice of the saluta
tion of Mary. Elisabeth and Mary most joyfully praise
God together, with Christ and his forerunner in their
wombs, and the Holy Spirit in their souls. And after
wards what joyful notice is taken of this event by the
shepherds, and by those holy persons, Zacharias, and
Simeon, and Anna ! How do they praise God on the
occasion ! Thus the inhabitants of heaven, and the
church on earth, unite in their joy and praise on this occar
sion. Great part of the universe takes joyful notice of the
incarnation of Christ. Heaven takes notice of it, and the
inhabitants sing for joy. This lower world of mankind,
both Jews and Gentiles, take notice of it. It pleased
God to put honour on his Son, by wonderfully stirring up
some of the wisest of the Gentiles to come a long journey
to see and worship him at his birth. They were led by a
miraculous star, signifying the birth of that glorious
person who is the bright and morning-star, going before,
and leading them to the very place where the young child
was. Some think they were instructed by the prophecy
of Balaam, who dwelt in the eastern parts, and who fore
told Christ's coming as a star that should rise out of
Jacob. Or they might be instructed by that general
expectation there was ofthe Messiah's coming about that

574

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period II

time, from the prophecies the Jews had of him in their
dispersions in all parts of tbe world.
3. The next concomitant of the birth of Christ was his
circumcision. But this may more properly be spoken of
under another head, and so I will not insist upon it now.
4. The next concomitant was his first coming into the
second temple, when an infant, on occasion of the purifi
cation of the blessed Virgin. We read, Hagg. ii. 7. " The
desire of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house,
(or temple) with glory." And in Mai. iii. 1. " The Lord,
whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even
the messenger of the covenant." And now was the first
instance of the fulfilment of these prophecies.
5. The last concomitant I shall mention is the sceptre's
departing from Judah, in the death of Herod the Great.
The sceptre had never totally departed from Judah till
now. Judah's sceptre was greatly diminished in the
revolt of the ten tribes in Jeroboam's time; and the
sceptre departed from Israel or Ephraim at the time of the
captivity of the ten tribes by Shalmaneser. But it re
mained' in the tribe of Judah, under the kings of the
house of David. And when the tribes of Judah and
Benjamin were carried captive by Nebuchadnezzar, the
sceptre of Judah ceased for a little while, till the return
from the captivity under Cyrus : and then, though they
were not an independent government, as they had been
before, but owed fealty to the kings of Persia ; yet their
governor was of themselves, who had the power of life and
death, and they were governed by their own laws ; and so
Judah had a lawgiver from between his feet during the
Persian and Grecian monarchies. Towards the latter part
of the Grecian monarchy, the people were governed by
kings of their own, of the race of the Maccabees, for near
a hundred years ; and after that they were subdued by
the Romans. But yet the Romans suffered them to be
governed by their own laws, and to have a king of their
own, Herod the Great, who reigned about forty years, and
governed with proper kingly authority, only paying
homage to the Romans. But presently after Christ was
bom he died, as we have an account, Matt. ii. 19. and
Archelaus succeeded him ; but was soon put down by the
Roman emperor ; and then the sceptre departed from
Judah. There were no more temporal kings of Judah
after that, neither had that people their governors from
the midst of themselves, but were ruled by a Roman
governor sent among them ; and they ceased to have the
?ower of life and death among themselves. Hence the
ews say to Pilate, " It is not lawful for us to put any
man to death," John xviii. 31. Thus the sceptre departed
from Judah when Shiloh came.

PART II.
THE PURCHASE OF REDEMPTION.
Having thus considered Christ's coming into the
world, and his taking on him our nature, to put himself
in a capacity for the purchase of redemption, I come now
to show what is intended by the purchase of redemption —
to make some general observations concerning those things
by which this purchase was made — and then to consider
those things more particularly which Christ did and
suffered, by which that purchase was made.

SECT. I.
The purchase itself, what 1
Bv Christ purchasing redemption, two things are in
tended, his satisfaction, and his merit. All is done by
the price that Christ lays down, which does two things : it
pays our debt, and so it satisfies ; it procures our title to
nappiness, and so it merits. The satisfaction of Christ is
to free us from misery, and the merit of Christ is to pur
chase happiness for us.

The word purchase, in this connexion, is taken either
more strictly or more largely. It is oftentimes used more
strictly, to signify only the merit of Christ ; and some
times more largely, to signify both his satisfaction and
merit. Indeed most of the words used in this affair have
various significations. Thus sometimes divines use merit
for the whole price that Christ offered, both satisfactory,
and positively meritorious. And so the word satisfaction
is sometimes used, not only for his propitiation, but also
for his meritorious obedience. For in some sense, not
only suffering the penalty, but positively obeying, is
needful to satisfy the law. The reason of this various use
of these terms seems to be, that satisfaction and merit do
not differ so much really as relatively. They both consist
in paying a valuable price, a price of infinite value : but
only that price, as it respects a debt to be paid, is called
satisfaction; and as it respects a positive good to be
obtained, is called merit. The difference between paying
a debt and making a positive purchase is more relative
than essential. He who lays down a price to pay a debt,
does in some sense make a purchase : he purchases liberty
from the obligation. And he who lays down a price to
purchase a good, does as it were make satisfaction : he
satisfies the conditional demands of him to whom he pays
it. This mav suffice concerning what is meant by the
purchase of Christ.

SECT. II.
Some general observations concerning those things by whick
this purchase was made.
1 . And here observe, That whatever in Christ had the
nature of satisfaction, was by virtue of the suffering or
humiliation that was in it ; but whatever had the nature
of merit, was by virtue of the obedience or righteousness
there was in it. The satisfaction of Christ consists in his
answering the demands of the law on man, which were
consequent on the breach of the law. These were answered
by suffering the penalty of the law. The merit of Christ
consists in what he did to answer the demands, which
were prior to man's breach of the law, or to fulfil what
the law demanded before man sinned, which was obedi
ence. The satisfaction or propitiation of Christ consists either
in his suffering evil, or his being subject to abasement.
Christ did not only make satisfaction by proper suffering,
but by whatever had the nature of humiliation and abase
ment of circumstances. Thus he made satisfaction by
continuing under the power of death, while he lay buried
in the grave ; though neither his body nor soul properly
endured any suffering after he was dead. Whatever
Christ was subject to that was the judicial fruit of sin, had
the nature of satisfaction for sin. But not only proper
suffering, but all abasement and depression of the state
and circumstances of mankind below its primitive honour
and dignity, such as his body remaining under death, his
body and soul remaining separate, &c. are the judicial
fruits of sin. And all that Christ did in his state of
humiliation, that had the nature of obedience, moral virtue
or goodness, had the nature of merit, in it, and was part
of the price with which he purchased happiness for the
elect. 2. Both Christ's satisfaction for sin, and also his merit
ing happiness by his righteousness, were carried on through
the whole time of his humiliation. Christ's, satisfaction
for sin was not by his last sufferings only, though it was
principally by them ; but all his sufferings, and all his
humiliation, from the first moment of his incarnation to
his resurrection, were propitiatory or satisfactory . Christ's
satisfaction was chiefly by his death, because his sufferings
and humiliation in that was greatest. But all his other
sufferings, and all his other humiliation, all along had the
nature of satisfaction ; the mean circumstances iu which
he was bom ; his being bom of a poor virgin, in a stable,
and laid in a manger ; his taking the human nature upon
him in its low state, and under those infirmities brought
upon it by the fall ; his being bom in the form of sinful
flesh, &c. And so all his sufferings in his infancy and

Part II.

THE PURCHASE OF REDEMPTION.

575

childhood, and all that labour, contempt, reproach, tempta
tion, and difficulty of any kind which he suffered through
the whole course of his life, was of a propitiatory and
satisfactory nature.— And so his purchase of happiness by
his righteousness was also carried on through thewhole
time of his humiliation till his resurrection : not only in
that obedience he performed through the course of his life,
but also in the obedience he performed in laying down his
life. 3. It was by the same things that Christ hath satisfied
God's justice, and also purchased eternal happiness. He
did not make satisfaction by some things, and then work
out righteousness by other different things ; but in the
same acts by which he wrought out righteousness, he also
made satisfaction, but only taken in a different relation.
One and the same act of Christ, considered with respect
to the obedience" there was in it, was part of his righteous
ness, and purchased heaven : but considered with respect
to the self-denial, and difficulty, and humiliation, with
which he performed it, had the nature of satisfaction for
sin, and procured our pardon. Thus his going about doing
good, preaching the gospel, and teaching his disciples, was
a part of his righteousness, and the purchase of heaven, as
it was done in obedience to the Father ; and the same was
a part of his satisfaction, as he did it with great labour,
trouble, and weariness, and under great temptations expos
ing himself hereby to reproach and contempt. So his
laying down his life had the nature of satisfaction to God's
offended justice, considered as his bearing punishment in
our stead : but considered as an act of obedience to God,
who had given him this command, that he should lay down
his life for sinners, it was a part of his righteousness and
purchase, and as much the principal part of his righteous
ness as it was the principal part of his satisfaction. And
to instance in his circumcision, what he suffered in it, had
the nature of satisfaction : tbe blood that was shed therein
was propitiatory blood ; but as it was a conformity to the
law of Moses, it was part of his meritorious righteousness.
Though it was not properly the act of human nature, he
being an infant ; yet the human nature being the subject
of it, and being the act of his person, it was accepted as an
act of his obedience, as our mediator  And even his being
born in such a low condition, has the nature of satisfaction
by reason of the humiliation that was in it ; and of right
eousness, as it was the act of his person in obedience to
the Father, what the will of the human nature did ac
quiesce in, though there was no act of the will of the
human nature prior to it.— These things may suffice to
have been observed in general, concerning the purchase
Christ made of redemption.

SECT. III.
Those things in particular by which the purchase was
made. — Christ's obedience and righteousness.
I now proceed to consider the things that passed during
the time of Christ's humiliation, and first, with respect to
his obedience and righteousness. And this is subject to a
threefold distribution. I shall therefore consider his obedi
ence, with respect to the laws which he obeyed — the differ
ent stages qf his life in which he performed it — and the
virtues he exercised in his obedience.
I. The first distribution of the acts of Christ's righteous
ness is with respect to the laws which he obeyed. But here
it must be observed in general, that all the precepts which
Christ obeyed may be reduced to one law, and that is
what the apostle calls the law of works, Rom. iii. 27.
Every command that Christ obeyed may be reduced to
that great and everlasting law of God that is contained in
the "covenant of works, that eternal rale of right which
God had established between himself and mankind.
Christ came into the world to fulfil and answer the cove
nant of works ; that is, the covenant that is to stand for
ever as a rale of judgment. The covenant that we had
broken, was the covenant that must be fulfilled.
This law of works indeed includes all the laws of God
that ever have been given to mankind ; for it is a general
rule of the law of works, and indeed of the law of nature,

That God is to be obeyed, and that he must be submitted
to in whatever positive precept he is pleased to give. It
is a rule of the law of works, That men should obey their
earthly parents : and it is certainly as much a rale of the
same law, That we should obey our heavenly Father : and
so the law of works requires obedience to all the positive
commands of God. It required Adam's obedience to that
positive command, Not to eat of the forbidden fruit ; and
it required obedience of the Jews to all the positive com
mands of their institution. When God commanded Jonah
to arise and go to Nineveh, the law of works required him
to obey : and so it required Christ's obedience to all the
positive commands which God gave him.
But, more particularly, the commands qf God which
Christ obeyed, were of three kinds ; they were such as he
was subject to either merely as man, or as he was a Jew, or
purely as Mediator.
1 . He obeyed those commands which he was subject to
merely as man. These were the commands of the moral
law, which was the same with that which was given at
mount Sinai, written in two tables of stone, which are
obligatory on mankind of all ages and all nations of the
world. 2. He obeyed all those laws he was subject to as he was
a Jew. Thus he was subject to the ceremonial law, and
was conformed to it. He was conformed to it in his being
circumcised the eighth day ; and he strictly obeyed it in
going up to Jerusalem to the temple three times a year ;
at least after he was come to the age of twelve years,
which seems to have been the age when the males began
to go up to the temple. And so Christ constantly attended
the service of the temple, and of the synagogues.
To this head of his obedience may be reduced his sub
mission to John's baptism. For it was a special command
to the Jews, to go forth to John the Baptist, and be bap
tized of him ; and therefore Christ, being a Jew, was
subject to this command : and therefore, when he came to
be baptized of John, and John objected, that he had more
need to come to him to be baptized of him, he gives this
reason for it, That it was needful that he should do it, that
he might fulfil all righteousness. (See Matt. iii. 13 — 15.)
3. Christ was subject to the mediatorial law ; or that
which related purely to his mediatorial office. Such were
the commands which the Father gave him to teach such
doctrines, to preach the gospel, to work such miracles, to
call such disciples, to appoint such ordinances, and finally
to lay down his life : for he did all these things in obedi
ence to the commands he had received of the Father, as
he often tells us, (John x. 18. xiv. 31.) These commands
he was not subject to merely as man ; for they did not
belong to other men : nor yet was he subject to them as a
Jew ; for they were no part of the Mosaic law : but they
were commands he had received of the Father, that purely
respected his mediatorial office.
Christ's righteousness, by which he merited heaven for
himself, and all who believe in him, consists principally in
his obedience to this mediatorial law : for in fulfilling this
law consisted his chief work and business in the world.
The history of the evangelists is chiefly taken up in giving
an account of his obedience to this law. This part of his
obedience was attended with the greatest difficulty ; and
therefore his obedience in it was most meritorious. What
Christ had to do in the world by virtue of his being Me
diator, was infinitely more difficult than what he had to
do merely as a man, or as a Jew. To his obedience to
this mediatorial law belongs his going through his last
sufferings, beginning with his agony in the garden, and
ending with his resurrection.
As the obedience of the first Adam, wherein his righte
ousness would have consisted, if be had stood, would have
mainly consisted in his obedience to that special law to
which he was subject as moral head and surety of man
kind, even the command of abstaining from the tree of
knowledge of good and evil ; so the obedience of the
second Adam, wherein his righteousness consists, lies
mainly in his obedience to that special law to which he
was subject as mediator and surety for man.
Before I proceed to the next distribution of Christ's
righteousness, I would observe three things concerning
his obedience to these laws.

576

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period II.

1. He performed that obedience to them which was in
every respect perfect. It was perfect with respect to the
work commanded ; and the principle from which he obey
ed. It was perfect with respect to the ends he acted for ;
he never had any by-ends, but aimed perfectly at such as
the law of God required. It was perfect with respect to
the manner of performance : every circumstance of each
act was perfectly conformed to the command. It was
perfect with respect to the degree of the performance : he
acted wholly up to the rule. — It was perfect with respect
to the constancy of obedience, without any interruption ;
and with respect to perseverance. He held out in perfect
obedience to the very end, in all the changes he passed
through, and all the trials that were before him.
The meritoriousness of Christ's obedience, depends on
the perfection of it. If it had failed in any instance, it
could not have been meritorious : for imperfect obedience
is not accepted as any obedience at all in the sight of the
law of works, to which Christ was subject. That is not
accepted as obedience to a law that does not fully answer it.
2. Christ's obedience was performed through the greatest
trials and temptations that ever any obedience was. His
obedience was attended with the greatest difficulties, and
most extreme abasement ; which was another thing that
rendered it more meritorious and thankworthy. To obey
another when his commands are easy, is not so worthy,
as it is to obey when it cannot be done without great diffi
culty. 3. He performed this obedience with infinite respect to
God, and the honour of his law. The obedience he per
formed was with infinitely greater love to God, and regard
to his authority, than that of angels. The angels perform
their obedience with a sinless perfection of love; but
Christ performed his with infinite love. Though the
human nature of Christ was not capable of love absolutely
infinite, yet Christ's obedience in that nature, is the obe
dience of his person, as God-man ; and therefore there was
infinite love manifest in that obedience. And this, toge
ther with the infinite dignity of the person who obeyed,
rendered his obedience infinitely meritorious.
II. The second distribution of the acts of Christ's obe
dience, is with respect to the different parts qf his life,
wherein thev were performed. And in this respect they
may be divided into those which were performed in private
life, and those which were performed in his public mi
nistry. 1st, Those acts he performed during his private life. —
He was perfectly obedient in his childhood. He infinitely
differed from other children, who, as soon as they begin to
act, begin to sin and rebel. He was subject to his earthly
parents, though he was Lord of all, Luke ii. 51. and was
found about his Father's business even when a child,
Luke ii. 42. — He then began to fulfil the mediatorial law,
which the Father had given him. He continued his pri
vate life for about thirty years, dwelling at Nazareth in the
house of his reputed father Joseph, where he served God
in a private capacity, and in following a mechanical trade,
the business of a carpenter.
2dly, Those acts which he performed during his public
ministry, which began when he was about thirty years of
age, and continued for the three last years and a half of
his life. — Most of the evangelic history is taken up in
giving an account of what passed during that time. In
deed all the history of Matthew, except the two first chap
ters ; the whole of Mark ; all the gospel of John ; and all
of Luke, except the two first chapters ; excepting also
what we find in the evangelists concerning the ministry of
John the Baptist. Christ's first appearing in his public
ministry, is what is often called his coming in Scripture.
Thus John speaks of Christ's coming as future, though he
had been born long before.
Concerning the public ministry of Christ, I would ob
serve the following things.
1. The forerunner of Christ's coming in his public minis
try was John the Baptist. He came preaching repentance
for the remission of sins, to make way for Christ's coming,
agreeable to the prophecies of him, Isa. xl. 3 — 5. and Matt.
iv. 5, 6. It is supposed that John the Baptist began his
ministry about three years and a half before Christ ; so
that John's ministry and Christ's put together, made seven

years, which was the last of Daniel's weeks ; and this
time is intended in Dan. ix. 27. " He will confirm the
covenant with many for one week." Christ came in the
midst of this week of years, as Daniel foretold, " And in
the midst of the week he shall cause the sacrifice and the
oblation to cease."
John the Baptist's ministry consisted principally in preachr
ing the law, to awaken and convince men of sin, to prepare
them for the coming of Christ, and to comfort them, as
the law is to prepare the heart for the entertainment of
the gospel. A very remarkable outpouring of the Spirit of
God attended John's ministry ; and the effect of it was,
that Jerusalem, and all Judea, and all the region round
about Jordan, were awakened and convinced. They went
out to him, and submitted to his baptism, confessing their
sins. John was the greatest of all the prophets who came
before Christ, Matt. xi. 11. " Among those that are born
of women, there hath not risen a greater than John the
Baptist ;" i. e. he had the most honourable office. He was
as the morning-star, which is the harbinger of the ap
proaching day, and forerunner of the rising sun. The other
prophets were stars that gave light in the night; but those
stars went out on the approach of the gospel-day. Now
the coming of Christ being very nigh, the morning-star
comes before him, the brightest of all the stars, as John
the Baptist was, in the sense mentioned, the greatest of all
the prophets. And when Christ came in his public mi
nistry, the light of that morning-star decreased too; as
we see, when the sun rises, it diminishes the light of the
morning-star. So John the Baptist says of himself, John
iii. 30. " He must increase, but I must decrease." And
soon after Christ began his public ministry, John the Bap- ,
tist was put to death; as the morning-star is visible a
little while after the sun is risen, yet soon goes out.
2. Christ's entrance on his public ministry was by bap
tism, followed with the temptation in the wilderness. His
baptism was as it were his solemn inauguration, by which
he entered on his ministry ; and was attended with his
being anointed with the Holy Ghost, in a solemn and
visible manner, the Holy Ghost descending upon him
symbolically, in a visible shape like a dove, attended with
a voice from heaven, saying, " This is my beloved Son, in
whom I am well pleased," Matt. iii. 16, 17. After this
he was led by the devil into the wilderness. Satan made a
violent attack upon him at his first entrance on his work ;
and now he had a remarkable trial of his obedience ; but
he got the victory. He who had such success with the
first Adam, had none with the second.
3. I would take notice of the work in which Christ was
employed during his ministry. And here are three things
chiefly to be noticed, viz. his preaching, his working of
miracles, and his calling and appointing disciples and
ministers of his kingdom.
(1.) His preaching the gospel.' Great part of the work
of his public ministry consisted in this ; and much of that
obedience by which he purchased salvation for us, was in
his speaking those things which the Father commanded
him. He more clearly and abundantly revealed the mind
and will of God, than ever it had been revealed before.
He came from the bosom of the Father, perfectly knew his
mind, and was in the best capacity to reveal it. As the
sun, as soon as it is risen, begins to shine ; so Christ, as
soon as he came into his public ministry, began to en
lighten the world with his doctrine. As the law was given
at mount Sinai, so Christ delivered his evangelical doc
trine, (full of blessings, and not curses,) to a multitude on
a mountain, Matt. v. — vii.
When he preached, he did not teach as the scribes,
but as one having authority ; so that his hearers were
astonished at his doctrine. He did not reveal the mind
and will of God in the style of the prophets, as, " Thus
saith the Lord ;" but in such a style as this, " I say unto
you," " Verily, verily, I say unto vou." He delivered his
doctrines, not only as the doctrines of God the Father,
but as his own doctrines. He gave forth commands, not
(as the prophets were wont to do) as God's commands,
but as his own. He spake in such a style as this, " This
is my commandment," John xv. 12. " Ye are my friends,
if ye do whatsoever I command you," ibid. 14.
(2.) Another thing that Christ was employed in during

Part II.

THE PURCHASE OF REDEMPTION.

the course of his ministry, was working ?niracles. Con
cerning which we may observe,— Their multitude. Be
sides particular instances, we often have an account of
multitudes coming at once with diseases, and his healing
them. They were works of mercy. In them was display
ed not only his infinite power and greatness, but his in
finite mercy and goodness. He went about doing good,
healing the sick, restoring sight to the blind, hearing to
the deaf, and the proper use of their limbs to the lame
and halt ; feeding the hungry, cleansing the leprous, and
raising the dead.
They were almost all of them such as had been spoken qf
as the peculiar works of God, in the Old Testament. So
with respect to stilling the sea, Psal. cvii. 29. " He maketh
the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still ;"
walking on the sea in a storm, Job ix. 8. " Which alone
— treadeth upon the waves of the sea ;" and casting out
devils, Psal. lxxiv. 14. " Thou breakest the heads of levia
than in pieces." So as to feeding a multitude in a wilder
ness : Deut. viii. 16. " Who fed thee in the wilderness
with manna ;" telling man's thoughts, Amos iv. 13. " Lo,
he that declareth unto man what is his thought— the Lord,
the God of hosts is his name ;" and raising the dead,
Psal. lxviii. 20. " Unto God the Lord belong the issues
from death." So as to opening the eyes of the blind, Psal.
cxlvi. 8. " The Lord openeth the eyes of the blind ;" heal
ing the sick, Psal. ciii. 3. " Who healeth all thy diseases ;"
and lifting up those who are bowed together, Psal. cxlvi.
8. " The Lord raiseth them that are bowed down."
They were in general such works as were images of the
great work which he came to work on man's heart ; repre
senting that inward, spiritual cleansing, healing, renova
tion, and resurrection, of which all his redeemed are the
subjects. — He wrought them by his own power, and not as
the other prophets did. They "were wont to work all their
miracles iu the name of the Lord ; but Christ wrought in
his own name. Moses was forbidden to enter into Ca
naan, because he seemed by his speech to assume to him
self the honour of working only one miracle. Nor did
Christ work miracles as the apostles did ; but by his own
authority and will : Thus, saith he, " I will, be thou
clean," Matt. viii. 3. And in the same strain he put the
(juestion, " Believe ye that I am able to do this Vf Matt.
ix. 28.
(3 ) Another thing that Christ did in the course of his
ministry, was to call his disciples. He called many disci
ples, whom he employed as ministers. He sent seventy
at one time in this work : but there were twelve that he
set apart as apostles, who were the grand ministers of his
kingdom, and as it were the twelve foundations of his
church. (See Rev. xxi. 14.) These were the main instru
ments of setting up his kingdom in the world, and there
fore shall sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes
of Israel.
4. I would observe how he finished his ministry. And
this was, in giving his dying counsels to his disciples, and
all that should be his disciples, which we have recorded
particularly in the 14th, 15th, and 16th chapters of John's
gospel. — In instituting a solemn memorial of his death, the
sacrament of the Lord's supper, wherein we have a re
presentation of his body broken, and of his blood shed.
— In offering up himself a sacrifice to God in his last suf
ferings. This act he did as God's minister, as God's
anointed priest ; and it was the greatest act of his public
ministry, the greatest act of his obedience, by which he
purchased heaven for believers. The priests of old used
to do many other things as God's ministers ; but the high
est execution of their office was their actually offering
sacrifice on the altar.' So the greatest thing that Christ did
in the execution of his priestly office, and the greatest
thing that he ever did, and the greatest thing that ever was
done, was the offering up himself a sacrifice to God.
Herein he was the antetype of all that had been done by
all the priests, in all their sacrifices and offerings, from the
beginning of the world.
III. The third distribution of the acts by which Christ
purchased redemption, regards the virtues that he exercised
and manifested in them. Christ in doing his work for our
redemption, exercised every possible virtue and grace. In
deed there are some particular virtues that sinful man may
vol. I. 2 p

577
have, which were not in Christ ; not from any defect of
virtue, but because his virtue was perfect, and without de
fect. Such is the virtue of repentance, brokenness of
heart for sin, mortification, and denying of lust. Christ
had no sin of his own to repent of, nor any lust to deny.
But all virtues which do not presuppose sin, were in him
in a higher degree than in any mere creature. Every vir
tue in him was perfect. Virtue itself was greater in him
than in any other ; and it was under greater advantages to
shine in him than in any other. Strict virtue shines most
when most tried : but never any virtue had such trials as
Christ's had.
The virtue that Christ exercised in his work may be
divided into three sorts, viz. the virtues which more im
mediately respect God, those which immediately respected
himself, and those which immediately respect men.
1 . Those virtues which more immediately respect God.
There appeared in him a holy fear and reverence towards
God the Father. Christ had a greater trial of his virtue in
this respect than any other had, from the honourableness
of his person. This was the temptation of the angels that
fell to cast off their worship of God and reverence of his
majesty, that they were beings of such exalted dignity
themselves. But Christ was infinitely more worthy and
honourable than they ; for he was the eternal Son of God,
and his person was equal to the person of the Father :
and yet, as he had taken on him the office of mediator,
and the nature of man, he was full of reverence towards
God. He manifested a wonderful love toward God. The
angels give great testimonies of their love towards God, in
their constancy and agility in doing his will ; and many
saints have given great testimonies of their love, who, from
love to God, endured great labours and sufferings : but
none ever such testimonies of love to God as Christ has
given. He manifested the most wonderful submission to
the will of God. Never was any one's submission so
tried as his was. And he manifested the most wonderful
spirit of obedience that ever was manifested.
2. In this work he most wonderfully manifested those
virtues which more immediately respected himself; as hu
mility, patience, and contempt of the world. Christ,
though he was the most excellent and honourable, yet was
the most humble ; yea, he was the most humble of all
creatures. No angel or man ever equalled him in humi
lity, though he was the highest in dignity and honourable
ness. Christ would have been under the greatest tempta
tions to pride, if it had been possible for any thing to be a
temptation to him. The temptation of the angels that fell
was the dignity of their nature, and the honourableness of
their circumstances ; but Christ was infinitely more ho
nourable than they. The human nature of Christ was so
honoured as to be in the same person with the eternal Son
of God, who was equal with God ; and yet that human
nature was not at all lifted up with pride. Nor was the
man Christ Jesus at all lifted up with pride with all those
wonderful works which he wrought, of healing the sick,
curing the blind, lame, and maimed, and raising the dead.
And though he knew that God had appointed him to be
the king over heaven and earth, angels and men, as he
says, Matt. xi. 27. " All things are delivered unto me of
my Father ;" though he knew he was such an infinitely
honourable person, and thought it not robbery to be equal
with God ; and though he knew he was the heir of the
Father's kingdom : yet such was his humility, that he did
not disdain to be abased and depressed down into lower
and viler circumstances and sufferings than ever any other
elect creature was ; so that he became least of all, and low
est of all. The proper trial and evidence of humility, is
stooping or complying with those acts or circumstances,
when called to it, which are very low, and contain great
abasement. But none ever stooped so low as Christ, if
we consider either the infinite height that he stooped from,
or the great depth to which he stooped. Such was his
humility, that though he knew his infinite worthiness of
honour, and of being honoured ten thousand times as much
as the highest prince on earth, or angel in heaven ; yet he
did not think it too much when called to it, to be bound
as a malefactor, to become the laughing-stock of the vilest
of men, to be crowned with thorns, to have a mock robe
put upon him, and to be crucified Uke a slave and male-

578

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period II.

factor, as one of the meanest and worst of vagabonds and
miscreants, and an accursed enemy of God and men, who
was not fit to live. And this was not for himself, but for
some of the meanest and vilest of creatures, even some of
those accursed wretches that crucified him. Was not this a
wonderful manifestation of humility, when he cheerfully
and most freely submitted to this abasement ? — And how
did his patience shine forth under all the terrible sufferings
which he endured ; when he was dumb, and opened not
his mouth, but went as a lamb to the slaughter ! — And
what contempt of the glory of this world was there, when
he rather chose this meanness, and suffering, than to be in
vested with the external glories of an earthly prince, as the
multitude often solicited him !
3. Christ, in a wonderful manner, exercised those vir
tues which more immediately respect other men. And
these may be summed up under two heads, viz. meekness,
and love.
Christ's meekness-was his humble calmness of spirit un
der the provocations that he met with. The greatness of
provocation lies in two things, viz. in the degree of oppo
sition by which the provocation is given ; and, secondly, in
the degree of the unreasonableness of that opposition, or in
its being very causeless, and without reason, and the great
degree of obligation to the contrary. Now, if we consider
both these things, no man ever met with such provocations
as Christ did, when he was upon earth. How much he
was hated, what abuses he suffered from the vilest of men;
how great his sufferings, and how spiteful and contemptu
ous they were in offering him those abuses ! How cause
less and unreasonable were these abuses, how undeserving
he was of them, yea how much deserving of the contrary,
viz. of love, and honour, and good treatment at their hands !
If we consider these things, no man ever met with a
thousandth part of the provocation that Christ met with
from men : and yet how meek was he under all ! how com
posed and quiet his spirit ! how far from being in a ruffle
and tumult ! When he was reviled, he reviled not again;
and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened
not his mouth. No appearance was there of a revengeful
spirit : on the contrary, what a spirit of forgiveness, did he
exhibit ! so that he fervently and effectually prayed for their
forgiveness, when they were in the highest act of provoca
tion that ever they perpetrated, viz. nailing him to the
cross : Luke xxiii. 34. " Father, forgive them ; for they
know not what they do."
And never did there appear such an instance of love to
men. Christ's love to men, especially in going through his
last sufferings, and offering up his life and soul under those
sufferings, which was his greatest act of love, was far be
yond all parallel. There have been very remarkable ma
nifestations of love in some of the saints, as in the apostle
Paul, the apostle John, and others ; but the love to men
that Christ showed when on earth, as much exceeded the
love of all other men, as the ocean exceeds a small stream.
And it is to be observed, that all the virtues which ap
peared in Christ shone brightest in the close of his life,
under the trials he met with then. Eminent virtue always
shows brightest in the fire. Pure gold shows its purity
chiefly in the furnace. It was chiefly under those trials
which Christ underwent in the close of his life, that his
love to God, his honour of God's majesty, his regard to the
honour of his law, his spirit of obedience, his humility,
contempt of the world, his patience, meekness, and spirit
of forgiveness towards men, appeared. Indeed every thing
that Christ did to work out redemption for us appears
mainly in the close of his life. Here mainly is his satisfac
tion for sin, and here chiefly is his merit of eternal life for
sinners, and here chiefly appears the brightness of his ex
ample, which he hath set us for imitation.— Thus we have
taken a brief view of the things whereby the purchase of
redemption was made with respect to his righteousness that
appeared in them.

SECT. IV.
Christ's sufferings and humiliation.
Among those things in particular by which the purchase
was made, we must reckon the sufferings and humiliation

to which Christ was subject, whence arose the satisfaction
he made for sin.
I. He was subject to uncommon humiliation and suffer
ing in his infancy. His mother not only suffered in bear
ing him, but when her travail came upon her, it is said,
" there was no room in the inn," Luke ii. 7. She was
forced to betake herself to a stable ; where Christ was born.
And we may conclude, that his mother's circumstances in
other respects were proportionably strait and difficult, and
that she was destitute of the conveniences necessary for so
young an infant which others were wont to have. Besides,
he was persecuted in his infancy. They began to seek his
life as soon as he was born. Herod, the chief man of the
land, was so engaged to kill him, that, in order to it, he
killed all the children in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts
thereof, from two years old and under. And Christ suffer
ed banishment in his infancy, was driven out of his native
country into Egypt, and without doubt suffered much by
being carried so long a journey, when he was so young,
into a strange country.
II. Christ was subject to great humiliation in his pri
vate life at Nazareth. He there led a servile, obscure life,
in a mean, laborious occupation ; for he is called not only
the carpenter's son, but the carpenter : Mark vi. 3. " Is not
this the carpenter, the brother of James and Joses, and
Juda, and Simon ? " By hard labour he earned his bread
before he ate it, and so suffered that curse which God pro
nounced on Adam, Gen. iii. 13. " In the sweat of thy face
shalt ihou eat bread." Let us consider how great a degree
of humiliation the glorious Son of God, the Creator of
heaven and earth, was subject to in this, that for about
thirty years he should live a private obscure life among
labouring men, and all this while be overlooked, not taken
notice of in the world, more than other common labourers.
Christ's humiliation in some respects was greater in private
life than in the time of his public ministry. There were
many manifestations of his glory in the word he preached,
and the miracles he wrought : but the first thirty years of
his life he spent among ordinary men, as it were in silence.
There was not any thing to make him to be taken notice
of more than any ordinary mechanic, only the spotless
purity and eminent holiness of his life ; and that was in a
great measure hid in obscurity ; so that he was little taken
notice of till after his baptism.
III. Christ was the subject of great humiliation and
suffering during his public life, from his baptism till the
night wherein he was betrayed.
1. He suffered great poverty, so that he had not where
to lay his head, (Matt. viii. 20. compared with John xviii.
1, 2. and Luke xxi. 27. and chap. xxii. 30.) So that what
was spoken of Christ in Cant. v. 2. " My head is filled
with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night," was
literally fulfilled. And through his poverty he doubtless
was often tried with hunger, thirst, and cold. Matt. iv. 2.
xxi. 18. His mother and natural relations were poor, not
able to help him ; and he was maintained by the charity
of some of his disciples while he lived. So we read in
Luke viii. at the beginning, of certain women that fol
lowed him, and ministered unto him of their substance.
He was so poor, that he was not able to pay the demand
ed tribute, without a miracle. See Matt. xvii. 27. And
when he ate his last passover, it was not at his own
charge, but that of another, as appears by Luke xxii. 7,
&c. And from his poverty he had no grave of his own to
be buried in. It was the manner of the Jews, unless they
were poor, to prepare themselves a sepulchre while they
lived. But Christ had no land of his own, though he was
possessor of heaven and earth ; and therefore was buried
by Joseph of Arimalhea's charity, and in his tomb, which
he had prepared for himself.
2. He suffered great haired and reproach. He was de
spised and rejected of men ; one of little account, slighted
for his low parentage, and his mean city Nazareth. He
was reproached as a glutton and drunkard, a friend of
publicans and sinners ; was called a deceiver of the peo
ple ; sometimes was called a madman, and a Samaritan,
and one possessed with a devil. (John vii. 20. viii. 48.
and x. 20.) He was called a blasphemer, and was ac
counted by many a wizard, or one that wrought miracles
by the black art, and by communication with Beelzebub.

Part II.

THE PURCHASE OF REDEMPTION.

579

They excommunicated him, and agreed to excommuni
cate any man that should own him. (John ix. 22.) They
wished him dead, and were continually seeking to murder
him ; sometimes by force, and sometimes by craft. They
often took up stones to stone him, and once led him to
the brow of a hill, intending to throw him down the pre
cipice, to dash him in pieces against the rocks.
He was thus hated and reproached by his own visible
people: John i. 11. " He came to his own, and his own
received him not." And he was principally despised and
hated by those who were in chief repute, and were their
greatest men. Indeed the hatred was general. Into what
ever part of the land he went, he met with hatred and con
tempt; in Capernaum, and Jericho; in Jerusalem, which
was the holy city, even when he went to the temple to
worship; also in Nazareth, his own city, among his own
relations, and his old neighbours.
3. He suffered the buffetings of Satan in an uncom
mon manner. One time in particular, he had a long con
flict with the devil, when he was in the wilderness forty
days, with wild beasts and devils ; and was so exposed to
the devil's power, that he was carried about by him from
place to place, while he was otherwise in a very suffering
state. — So much for the humiliation and suffering of Christ's
public life, from his baptism to the night wherein he was
betrayed. IV. I come now to his last humiliation and sufferings,
from the evening of the night wherein he was betrayed to
his resurrection. And here was his greatest humiliation
and suffering, by which principally he made satisfaction to
the justice of God for the sins of men. First, his life was
sold by one of his own disciples for thirty pieces of silver;
which was the price of the life of a servant, Exod. xxi. 32.
Then he was in dreadful agony in the garden. There
came such a dismal gloom upon his soul, that he began
to be sorrowful and very heavy, and said, that his " soul
was exceeding sorrowful, even unto death, and was sore
amazed." So violent was the agony of his soul, as to
force the blood through the pores of his skin ; so that
while his soul was overwhelmed with amazing sorrow, his
body was clotted with blood. The disciples, who used to
be as his friends and family, at this time above all ap
peared cold towards, and unconcerned for him, at the
same time that his Father's face was hid from him. Judas,
to whom Christ had been so very merciful, and who was
treated as one of his family or familiar friends, comes and
betrays him in the most deceitful, treacherous manner.
The officers and soldiers apprehend and bind him ; his
disciples forsake him, and flee ; his own best friends do
not stand by him to comfort him in this time of his dis
tress. He is led away as a malefactor to appear before
the priests and scribes, his venomous, mortal enemies,
that they might sit as his judges. Now they had got him
into their hands, they sat up all night, to have the plea
sure of insulting him. But because they aimed at no
thing short of his life, they set themselves to find some
colour to put him to death, and seek for witnesses against
him. When none appeared, they set some to bear false
witness ; and when their witness did not agree together,
they examined him, in hope to catch something out of his
own mouth. They hoped he would say, that he was the
Son of God, and then they thought they should have
enough. But because they see they are not like to obtain
this, they adjure him, in the name of God, to say whether
he was or not : and when he confessed that he was, then
it was a time of rejoicing with them, which they show,
by spitting in his face, blindfolding him, and striking him
in the face with the palms of their hands, and then bid
ding him prophesy who it was that struck him ; thus
ridiculing him for pretending to be a prophet. And the
very servants have a hand in the sport : Mark xiv. 65.
" And the servants did strike him with the palms of their
hands." During the sufferings of the night, Peter, one of the
chief of his own disciples, instead of standing by to com
fort, appears ashamed to own him, and denies and re
nounces him with oaths and curses. And after the chief
priests and elders had finished the night in so shamefully
abusing him, in the morning, (the morning of the most
wonderful day that ever was,) they led him away to Pi-
2 p 2

late, to be condemned to death by him, because they nad
not the power of life and death in their own hands. He
is brought before Pilate's judgment-seat, and there the
priests and elders accuse him as a traitor. And when
Pilate, upon examining into the matter, declared he found
no fault in him, the Jews were but the more fierce and
violent to have him condemned. Upon which Pilate,
after clearing him, very unjustly brings him upon a se
cond trial ; and then not finding any thing against him,
acquits him again. Pilate treats him as a poor worthless
fellow ; but is ashamed on so little pretence to condemn
him as a traitor.
And then he was sent to Herod to be tried by him, and
was brought before his judgment-seat ; his enemies fol
lowed, and virulently accused him before Herod. Herod
does not condemn him as a traitor, or one that would set
up for a king, but looks upon him as Pilate did, as a poor
worthless creature, not worthy to be noticed, and makes a
mere laugh of the Jews accusing him as dangerous to
Caesar, as one setting up to be a king against him ; and
therefore, in derision, dresses him up in a mock robe,
makes sport of him, and sends him back through the
streets of Jerusalem to Pilate with the mock robe on.
Then the Jews prefer Barabbas before him, and are in
stant and violent with loud vociferations to Pilate, to cru
cify him. So Pilate, after he had cleared him twice, and
Herod once, very unrighteously brings him on trial the
third time, to try if he could not find something sufficient
to crucify him.. Christ was stripped and scourged : thus
he gave his back to the smiters. After that, though Pilate
still declared that he found no fault in him ; yet so unjust
was he, that for fear of the Jews he delivered Christ to be
crucified. But before they execute the sentence, his spite
ful and cruel enemies take the pleasure of mocking him
again; they get round him, and make a set business of it.
They stripped him, put on him a scarlet robe, a reed in his
hand, and a crown of thorns on his head. Both Jews and
Roman soldiers were united in the transaction ; they bow
the knee before him, and in derision cry, " Hail, king of
the Jews." They spit upon him also, take the reed out of
his hand, and smite him on the head. After this they led
him away to crucify him, made him carry his own cross,
till he sunk under it, his strength being spent ; and then
they laid it on one Simon a Cyrenian.
At length, being come to mount Calvary, they execute
the sentence which Pilate had so unrighteously pro
nounced. They nail him to his cross by his hands and
feet, then raise it erect, and fix one end in the ground, he
being still suspended on it by the nails which pierced his
hands and feet. Now Christ's sufferings are come to the
extremity : now the cup, which he so earnestly prayed
might pass from him, is come ; he must, he does drink it.
In those days crucifixion was the most tormenting kind of
death by which any were wont to be executed. There
was no death, wherein the person experienced so much of
mere torment : and hence the Roman word, which signi
fies torment, is taken from this kind of death.  Besides
what our Lord endured in this excruciating corporeal
death, he endured vastlv more in his soul. Now was that
travail of his soul, of which we read in the prophet ; now
it pleased God to bruise him, and to put him to grief;
now he poured out his soul unto death, as in Isa. liii.
And if the mere forethought of this cup made him sweat
blood, how much more dreadful and excruciating must
the drinking of it have been ! Many martyrs have endured
much in their bodies, while their souls have been joyful,
and have sung for joy, whereby they have been supported
under the sufferings of their outward man, and have
triumphed over them. But this was not the case with
Christ; he had no such support ; but his sufferings were
chiefly those of the mind, though the other were extremely
great. In his crucifixion Christ did not sweat blood, as
he had done before ; not because his agony was now not
so great, but his blood had vent another way . . But though
he did not sweat blood, yet such was the sufferings of his
soul, that probably it rent his vitals ; when his side was
pierced, there came forth blood and water. And so here
was a kind of literal fulfilment of that in Psal. xxii. 14.
" I am poured out like water ;— my heart is like wax, it is
melted in the midst of my bowels."

580

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period II.

Now under all these sufferings the Jews still mock him;
and wagging their heads say, " Thou that destroyest the
temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself: if thou
be the Son of God, come down from the cross." And
even the chief priests, scribes, and elders, joined in the cry,
saying, " He saved others, himself he cannot save." And
probably the devil at the same time tormented him to the
utmost of bis power ; and hence it is said, Luke xxii. 53.
" This is your hour, and the power of darkness."
Under these sufferings, Christ, having cried out once
and again with a loud voice, at last said, It is finished,
(John xix. 30.) " and bowed the head, and gave up the
ghost." And thus was finished the greatest and most
wonderful thing that ever was done. Now the angels be
held the most wonderful sight that ever they saw. Now
was accomplished the main thing that had been pointed at
by the various institutions of the ceremonial law, by all
the typical dispensations, and by all the sacrifices from the
beginning of the world.
Christ being thus brought under the power of death,
continued under it till the morning of next day but one.
Then was finished that great work, the purchase of our
redemption, for which such great preparation had been
made from the beginning ofthe world. Then was finished
all that was required in order to satisfy the threatenings
of the law, and all that was necessary in order to satisfy
divine justice ; then the utmost that vindictive justice de
manded, even the whole debt, was paid. Then was
finished the whole of the purchase of eternal life. And
now there is no need of any thing more to be done towards
a purchase of salvation for sinners ; nor has ever any
thing been done since, nor will any thing more be done
for ever and ever.

PART III.
IMPROVEMENT OF THE SECOND PERIOD.
In surveying the history of redemption, we have now
shown how this work was carried on through the two
former of the three main periods into which this whole
space of time was divided, viz . from the fall to the incarna
tion of Christ, and from thence to the end of the time of
Christ's humiliation. In the first of these periods, we
have particularly explained how God prepared the way
for Christ's appearing and purchasing redemption ; and in
the second period, how that purchase was made and
finished. I would now make some improvement of what
has been said on both these subjects considered conjunctly.

SECT. I.
An use of reproof .
I begin with an use of reproof ; a reproof of unbelief,
of self-righteousness, and of a careless neglect of the salva
tion of Christ.
1 . How greatly do these things reprove those who do
not believe in, but reject, the Lord Jesus Christ ! i. e. all
those who do not heartily receive him. Persons may
receive him in profession outwardly, and may wish that
they had some of those benefits that Christ has purchased,
and yet their hearts not receive him. They may be hearty
in nothing that they do towards Christ ; they may have
no high esteem of, nor any sincere respect to, Christ ; they
may never have opened the door of their heart to him, but
have kept him shut out all their days, ever since the salva
tion has been offered to them. Though their hearts have
been opened to others, their door flung wide open to
them, with free admittance at all times ; though they have
been embraced, and the thrones of their hearts have been
allowed them ; yet Christ has always been shut out, and
they have been deaf to all his calls. They never could find
an inclination of heart to receive him, nor would they ever
trust in him.

Let me now call upon such to consider, how great is
their sin, in thus rejecting Jesus Christ. You slight the
glorious person, for whose coming God made such great
preparation in such a series of wonderful providences from
the beginning of the world, and whom, after all things
were made ready, God sent into the world, bringing to
pass a thing before unknown, viz. the union of the divine
nature with the human in one person. You have been
guilty of slighting that great Saviour, who, after such pre
paration, actually accomplished the purchase of redemp
tion ; and who, after he had spent three or four and thirty
years in poverty, labour, and contempt, in purchasing re
demption, at last finished the purchase by closing his life
under such extreme sufferings as you have heard ; and so
by his death, and continuing for a time under the power
of death, completed the whole. This is the person you
reject and despise. You make light of all the glory of
his person, and of all the glorious love of God the Father,
in sending him into the world, and all his wonderful love
appearing in the whole of this affair. That precious stone
which God hath laid in Zion for a foundation in such a
manner, and by such wonderful works as you have heard,
is a stone set at nought by you.
Sinners sometimes are ready to wonder why unbelief
should be looked upon as a great sin ; but if you consider
what you have heard, how can you wonder ? If this
Saviour is so great, and this work so great, and such great
things have been done in order to it ; truly there is no
cause of wonder that the rejection of this Saviour is so
provoking to God. It brings greater guilt than the sins of
the worst of heathens, who never heard of those things, nor
have had this Saviour offered to them.
II. What has been said, affords matter of reproof to
those who, instead of believing in Christ, trust in them
selves for salvation. Is it not a common thing with men
to take it upon themselves to do that great work which
Christ came into the world to do ? to trust in their prayers,
their good conversations, the pains they take in religion,
the reformation of their lives, and their self-denial, in order
to recommend them to God, to make some atonement for
their past sins ? Let such consider three things :
1 . How great a thing that is which you take upon you.
It is to do the work of the great Saviour of the world. —
Though you are poor, worthless, vile, and polluted, yet
you arrogantly take upon you that very work for which the
only-begotten Son of God became man ; and in order to
which God employed four thousand years in all the great
dispensations of his providence, aiming chiefly to make
way for Christ's coming to do this work. This is the
work that you foolishly think yourself sufficient for ; as
though your prayers, and other performances, were excel
lent enough for this purpose. Consider how vain is the
thought which you entertain of yourself. How must such
arrogance appear in the sight of Christ, whom it cost so
much. It was not to be obtained even by him, so great
and glorious a person, at a cheaper rate than his going
through a sea of blood, and passing through the midst of
the furnace of God's wrath. And now vain must your ar
rogance appear in the sight of God, when he sees you
imagining yourself sufficient, and your worthless, polluted
performance excellent enough, for the accomplishing of that
work of his own Son, to prepare the way for which he was
employed in ordering all the great affairs of the world for
so many ages !
2. If there be ground for you to trust, as you do, in
your own righteousness, then all that Christ did to pur
chase salvation, and all that God did from the fall of man
to prepare the way for it, is in vain. Your self-righteous
ness charges God with the greatest folly, as though he has
done all things in vain, to bring about an accomplishment
of what you alone, with your poor polluted prayers, and
the little pains you take in religion, are sufficient to ac
complish for yourself. For if you can appease God's anger,
and commend yourself to him by these means, then you
have no need of Christ; Gal. ii. 21. " If righteousness
come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain."
If you can do this by your prayers and good works,
Christ might have spared his pains ; he mighthave spared
his blood ; he might have kept within the bosom of his
Father, without coming down into this evil world to be

Part III.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE SECOND PERIOD.

581

despised, reproached, and persecuted to death. God
needed not to have busied himself, as he did for four
thousand years, causing so many changes in the state of
the world all that while, in order to bring about that which
you can accomplish in a few days, only with the trouble of
a few religious performances. Consider, what greater folly
could you have devised to charge upon God than this, that
all those things were done so needlessly ; when, instead of
all this, he might only have called you forth, and com
mitted the business to vou, which you think you can do
so easily. Alas ! how blind are natural men ! and especial
ly how vain are the thoughts which they have of them
selves ! How ignorant of their own littleness and pollu
tion ! What great things do they assume to themselves !
3. You that trust to your own righteousness, arrogate to
yourselves the honour of the greatest thing that ever God
himself did. You seem not only sufficient to perform di
vine works, but such is your pride and vanity, that you are
not content without taking upon you to do the very
greatest work that ever God himself wrought. You see
by what has been said, how God has subordinated all his
otlier works to this of redemption. God's works of pro
vidence are greater than those of creation ; and all his
works of providence, from the beginning of the generations
of men, were in order to make way for the purchasing of
redemption. To take on yourself to work out redemp
tion, is a greater thing than if you had taken it upon you
to create a world. What a figure you would make, if you
should seriously go about to create a world : or decking
yourself with majesty, should pretend to speak the word
of power, and call an universe out of nothing, intending
to go on in order, and say, " Let there be light ; Let there
be a firmament," &e. But then consider, that in attempt
ing to work out redemption for yourself, you attempt a
greater thing than this, and are serious in it, and will not
be dissuaded from it. You strive in it, are full of the
thought that you are sufficient for it, and big with hopes
of accomplishing it.
You take upon you to do the very greatest and most
difficult part of this work, viz. to purchase redemption.
Christ can accomplish other parts of this work without
cost ; but this part cost him his life, as well as innumerable
pains and labours. Yet this is that part which self-righte
ous persons go about to accomplish for themselves. If all
the angels in heaven had been sufficient for this work,
would God have set himself to effect such things as he
did in order to it ? and would he ever have sent his own
Son, the Creator of the angels, into the world, to have done
and suffered such things ?
What self-righteous persons take to themselves, is the
same work that Christ was engaged in when he was in his
agony and bloody sweat, and when he died on the cross,
which was the greatest thing that ever the eyes of angels
beheld. Great as it is, they imagine they can do the same
that Christ accomplished by it. Their self-righteousness
does in effect charge Christ's offering up himself in these
sufferings, as the greatest instance of folly that ever men
or angels saw, instead of being the most glorious display
of the divine wisdom and grace. Yea, self-righteousness
makes all that Christ did through the whole course of his
life, all that he said and suffered, and his incarnation itself,
and not only so, but all that God had been doing in the
great dispensations of his providence from the beginning
of the world to that time, as nothing but a scene of the
most wild, extreme, and transcendent folly.
Is it any wonder, then, that a self-righteous spirit is so
represented in Scripture, and spoken of, as that which is
most fetal to the souls of men ? And is it any wonder,
that Christ is represented in Scripture as being so provoked
with the Pharisees and others, who trusted in themselves
that they were righteous, and were proud of their good
ness, and thought that their own performances were a
valuable price of God's favour and love ?
Let persons hence be warned against a self-righteous
spirit. You that are seeking salvation, and taking pains
in religion, take heed to yourselves that you do not trust
in what you do. Harbour no such thoughts, that God
now, seeing how much you are reformed, how you are
sometimes affected, will be pacified towards you, and will
not be so angry for your former sins ; that you shall gain

on him by such things, and draw his heart to show you
mercy. If you entertain the thought, that God is obliged
to do it, and does not act justly if he refuse to regard your
prayers and pains ; if you quarrel with God, and com
plain of him for not doing it, this shows what your opinion
is of your own righteousness, viz. that it is a valuable price
of salvation, and ought to be accepted of God as such.
Such complaining of God, and quarrelling with him, for
not taking more notice of your righteousness, plainly shows
that you are guilty of arrogance, thinking yourself sufficient
to offer the price of your own salvation.
III. What has been said on this subject, affords matter
of reproof to those who carelessly neglect the salvation of
Christ. These live a senseless kind of life, neglect the
business of religion and their own souls, not taking any
course to get an interest in Christ, or what he has done
and suffered, or any part in that glorious salvation he has
purchased. They have their minds taken up about the
gains of the world, or the vanities and pleasures of youth,
and make light of what they hear of Christ's salvation, to
that degree, that they do not at present so much as seek
after it. Let me here apply myself to you in some ex-
postulatory interrogations.
1. Shall so many prophets, and kings, and righteous men,
have their minds so much taken up with the prospect, that
the purchase of salvation was to be wrought out in ages
long after their death ; and will you neglect it when actu
ally accomplished ? You have heard what great account
the church in all ages made of the future redemption of
Christ ; how joyfully they expected it, how they spoke of
it, how they studied and searched into these things, how
they sung joyful songs, and had their hearts greatly en
gaged about it, though they did not expect that it would
be accomplished till many ages after their death, 1 Pet. i.
10 — 12. How much did Isaiah and Daniel, and other
prophets, speak concerning this redemption ! And how
much were their hearts engaged, and their attention and
study fixed upon it ! How was David's mind taken up
in this subject ! He declared that it was all his salvation,
and all his desire ; 2 Sam. xxiii. 5. How did he employ
his voice and harp in celebrating it, and the glorious dis
play of divine grace therein exhibited ! and all this although
they beheld it not as yet accomplished, but saw that it was
to be brought to pass so long a time after their day.  And
before this, how did Abraham and the other patriarchs re
joice in the prospect of Christ's day, and the redemption
which he was to purchase ! And even the saints before
the flood were affected and elated in the expectation of this
glorious event, though it was then so long future, and it
was so very faintly and obscurely revealed to them.
Now these things are declared to you as actually ful
filled. The church now has seen accomplished all those
great things which they so joyfully prophesied of; and
you are abundantly shown how those things were accom
plished: Matt. xiii. 17. "Verily I say unto you, that
many prophets and righteous men have desired to see
those things which ye see, and have not seen ; and to hear
those things which ye hear, and have not heard them." And
yet, when these things are thus abundantly set before you
as already accomplished, how light do you make of them !
How unconcerned are you about them, following other
things, and not so much as feeling any interest in them !
Indeed your sin is extremely aggravated in the sight of
God. God has put you under great advantages for your
eternal salvation, far greater than those saints of old en
joyed. He has put you under a more glorious dispensa
tion ; has given you a more clear revelation of Christ and
his salvation ; and yet you neglect all these advantages,
and go on in a careless course of life, as though nothing
had been done, no such proposals and offers had been
made you.
2. Have the angels been so engaged about this salvation
which is by Christ ever since the fall of man, though they
are not immediately concerned in it, and will you who
need it, and have it offered to you, be so careless about it ?
You have heard how the angels at first were subjected to
Christ as mediator, and how they have all along been
ministering spirits to him in this affair. In all the great
dispensations which you have heard of from the beginning
of the world, they have been active and as a flame of fire

582

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

in this affair, being most diligently employed as minister
ing spirits to minister to Christ in this great affair of man's
redemption. And when Christ came, how engaged were
their minds ! They came to Zacharias, to inform him of
the coming of Christ's forerunner. — They came to the
Virgin Mary, to inform her of the approaching birth of
Christ. They came to Joseph, to warn him of the danger
which threatened the new-bom Saviour, and to point out
to him the means of safety. And how were their minds
engaged at the time of the birth of Christ ! The whole
multitude of the heavenly hosts sang praises upon the oc
casion, saying, " Glory to God in the highest, on earth
peace, good will towards men." And afterwards, from
time to time, they ministered to Christ when on earth ;
at the time of his temptation, of his agony in the garden,
at his resurrection, and at his ascension. All these
things show, that they were greatly engaged in this
affair ; and the Scripture informs us, that they pry into
these things: 1 Pet. i. 12. "Which things the angels
desire to look into." And how are they represented in the
Revelation as being employed in heaven in singing praises
to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb ! Now,
shall these take so much notice of this redemption, and of
the purchaser, who need it not for themselves, and have
no immediate concern or interest in it, or offer of it ; and
will you, to whom it is offered, and who are in such ex
treme necessity of it, neglect and take no notice of it ?
3. Did Christ labour so hard, and guffer so much to
procure this salvation, and is it not worth the while for you
to be at some labour in seeking it ? Did our salvation lie
with such weight on the mind of Christ, as to induce him
to become man, to suffer even death itself, in order to
procure it ? And is it not worth the while for you, who
need this salvation, and must perish eternally without it,
to take earnest pains to obtain an interest in it after it is
procured, and all things are ready ?
4. Shall the great God be so concerned about this salva
tion, as often to overturn the world to make way for it ;
and when all is done, is it not worth your seeking after ?
What great, what wonderful things has he done ; removing
and setting up kings, raising up a great number of pro
phets, separating a distinct people from the rest of the
world, overturning nations and kingdoms, and often the
state of the world; and so has continued bringing about
one change and revolution after another for forty centuries
in succession, to make way for the procuring of this salva
tion ! And when at the close of these ages, the great
Saviour comes, passing through a long series of reproach
and suffering, and then suffering all the waves and billows
of God's wrath for men's sins, insomuch that they over
whelmed his soul ; after all these things done to procure
salvation for sinners, is it not worthy of your being so much
concerned about it, but that it should be thrown by, and
made nothing of, in comparison of worldly gain, gay cloth
ing, or youthful diversions, and other such trifling things ?
O ! that you who live negligent of this salvation, would
consider what you do ! What you have heard from this
subject, may show you what reason there is in that ex
clamation of the apostle, Heb. ii. 3. " How shall we
escape if we neglect so great salvation ?" And in Acts
xiii. 41. " Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, and perish ;
for I work a work in your days, a work which you shall
in no wise believe, though a man declare it unto you."
God looks on you as great enemies of the cross of Christ,
as adversaries and despisers of all the glory of this great
work. And if God has made such account of the glory
of salvation as to destroy many nations, in order to prepare
the way for the glory of his Son in this affair ; how little

account will he make ofthe lives and souls often thousand
such opposers and despisers as you, who continue impeni
tent, when your welfare stands in the way of that glory !
Why surely you shall be dashed to pieces as a potter's
vessel, and trodden down as the mire of the streets. God
may, through wonderful patience, bear with hardened
careless sinners for a while ; but he will not long bear with
such despisers of his dear Son, and his great salvation, the
glory of which he has had so much at heart, before he will
utterly consume without remedy or mercy.

SECT. II.
An use qf encouragement.
I will conclude with a second use, of encouragement
to burdened souls to put their trust in Christ for salvation.
To all such as are not careless and negligent, but make
seeking an interest in Christ their main business, being
sensible in some measure of their necessity, and afraid of
the wrath to come ; to such, what has been said on this
subject holds forth great matter of encouragement, to ven
ture their souls on the Lord Jesus Christ. And as motives
proper to excite you so to do, let me lead you to consider
two things in particular.
1. The completeness of the purchase which has been
made. You have heard, that this work of purchasing
salvation was wholly finished during the time of Christ's
humiliation. When Christ rose from the dead, and was
exalted from that abasement to which he submitted for our
salvation, the purchase of eternal life was completely made,
so that there was no need of any thing more to be done in
order to it. But now the servants were sent forth with a
message, Matt. xxii. 4. " Behold, I have prepared my
dinner : my oxen and my fetlings are killed, and all things
are ready : come unto the marriage." Therefore, are your
sins many and great ? Here is enough done by Christ to
procure their pardon. There is no need of any righteous
ness of yours to obtain your pardon and justification :
no, you may come freely, without money and without
price. Since therefore there is such a free and gracious
invitation given you, come, come naked as you are ; come
as a poor condemned criminal ; come and cast yourself
down at Christ's feet, as one justly condemned, and utterly
helpless. Here is a complete salvation wrought out by
Christ, and through him offered to you. Come, therefore,
accept of it, and be saved.
2. For Christ to reject one that thus comes to him,
would be to frustrate all those great things which God
brought to pass from the fall of man to the incarnation of
Christ. It would also frustrate all that Christ did and
suffered while on earth ; yea, it would frustrate the incar
nation itself. All the great things done were for that end,
that those might be saved who should come to Christ.
Therefore you may be sure Christ will not be backward
in saving those who come to him, and trust in him ; for
he has no desire to frustrate himself in his own work.
Neither will God the Father refuse you ; for he has no
desire to frustrate himself in all that he did for so many
hundreds and thousands of years, to prepare the way for
the salvation of sinners by Christ. Come, therefore, hearken
to the sweet and earnest calls of Christ to your soul. Do
as he invites and as he commands you, Matt. xi. 28 — 30.
" Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and
learn of me ; and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For
my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.^

PERIOD III.
FROM CHRIST'S RESURRECTION TO THE END OF THE WORLD.

In discoursing on this subject, we have already shown
how the work of redemption was carried on through the
two first of the three periods into which we divided the

whole space of time from the fall to the end of the world.
We are now come to the third and last period, beginning
with Christ's resurrection; and would show, that the

Sect. I.

SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATIONS OF THIS PERIOD.

583

space of time from the end of Christ's humiliation to the
end of the world is all taken up in bringing about the great
effect or success of Christ's purchase.

SECT. I.
Scriptural representations qf this period.
Not but that there were great effects and glorious suc
cess of Christ's purchase of redemption before, even from
the beginning of the generations of men. But all that suc
cess which was before, was only preparatory, by way of
anticipation, as some few fruits are gathered before the
harvest. There was no more success before Christ came,
than God saw needful to prepare the way for his coming.
The proper time of the success or effect of Christ's redemp
tion is after the purchase has been made, as the proper
time for the world to enjoy the light ofthe sun is the day
time, after the sun is risen, though we may have some
small matter of it reflected from the moon and planets be
fore. And even the success of Christ's redemption while
he himself was on earth, was very small in comparison of
what it was after.
But, Christ having finished that greatest and most dif
ficult of all works, now is come the time for obtaining the
end, the glorious effect of it. Having gone through the
whole course of his sufferings and humiliation, Christ is
never to suffer any more. But now is the time for him to
obtain the joy that was set before him. Having made his
soul an offering for sin, now is the time for him to see his
seed, to have a portion with the great, and to divide the
spoil with the strong.
One design of Christ in what he did in his humiliation,
was to lay a foundation for the overthrow of Satan's king
dom ; and now is come the time to effect it, as Christ, a
little before his crucifixion, said, John xii. 31. " Now is
the judgment of this world ; now shall the prince of this
world be cast out." Another design was, to gather together
in one all things in Christ. Now is come the time for this
also : John xii. 32. " And I, if I be lifted up, will draw
all men unto me ;" which is agreeable to Jacob's prophecy
of Christ, that " when Shiloh should come, to him should
the gathering of the people be," Gen. xlix. 10. Another
design is the salvation of the elect. Now when his suffer
ings are finished, and his humiliation perfected, the time is
come for that also : Heb. v. 8, 9. "Though he was a Son,
yet learned obedience by the things which he suffered :
and being made perfect, he became the author of eternal
salvation unto all them that obey him." Another design
was, to accomplish by these things great glory to the per
sons of the Trinity. John xvii. 1. "Father, the hour is
come ; glorify thy Son, thatthy Son also may glorify thee."
Another design was the glory ofthe saints. John xvii. 11.
" As thou hast given him power over all flesh, that he
should give eternal life to as many as thou hast given
him." And all the dispensations of God's providence
henceforward, even to the final consummation of all things,
are to give Christ his reward, and fulfil his end in what he
did and suffered upon earth, and to fulfil the joy that was
set before him.
Before I enter on the consideration of any particular
things accomplished in this period, I would briefly ob
serve how the times of this period are represented in
Scripture. I. Tbe times of this period, for the most part, are in the
Old Testament called the latter days. We often, in the
prophets of the Old Testament, read of things that should
come to pass in the latter days, and sometimes in the last
days, evidently referring to gospel times. They are called
the latter days, and the last days; because this is the last
period ofthe series of God's providences on earth, the last
period of the great work of redemption ; which is as it
were the sum of God's works of providence ; the last dis
pensation of the covenant of grace on earth.
II. The whole time of this period is sometimes in Scrip
ture called the end qf the world, 1 Cor. x. 11. " Now all
these things happened unto them for ensamples ; and they
are written for our'admonition, upon whom the ends ofthe

world are come." And the apostle, Heb. ix. 26. in this ex
pression of the end of the world, means the whole of the
gospel-day, from the birth of Christ to the day of judg
ment : " But now once in the end of the world, hath he
appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself."
This space of time may well be called the end of the world ;
for this whole time is taken up in bringing things to their
great end and issue. Before, things were in a kind of pre
paratory state ; but now they are in a finishing state. An
end is now brought to the former carnal state of things,
which by degrees vanishes, and a spiritual state begins to be
established more and more. Particularly, an end is
brought to the former state of the church, which may be
called its worldly state, in which it was subject to carnal
ordinances, and the rudiments of the world. Then an end
is brought to the Jewish commonwealth, in the destruction
of their city and country. After that, an end is brought to
the old heathen empire in Constantine's time. The next
step is the finishing of Satan's visible kingdom in the world,
upon the fall of Antichrist, and the calling of the Jews.
And last will come the destruction of the outward frame
ofthe world itself, at the conclusion of the day of judg
ment. Heaven and earth began to shake, in order to a dis
solution, according to the prophecy of Haggai, before Christ
came, that so only those things which cannot be shaken
may remain, i. .. that those things which are to come to an
end may terminate, and that only those things may remain
which are to remain eternally.
In the first place, the carnal ordinances of the Jewish
worship came to an end, in order to make way for the
establishment of that spiritual worship, which is to endure
to all eternity : John iv. 21. " Jesus saithunto the woman,
Believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this
mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father." Ver.
23. " But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true
worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth :
for the Father seeketh such to worship him." This is one
instance ofthe temporary world coming to an end, and the
eternal world beginning. And then, the outward temple
and the city Jerusalem came to an end, to give place to
the setting up ofthe spiritual temple and city, which are
to last for ever. Another instance of removing those things
which are ready to vanish away, that those things which
cannot be shaken may remain, is the bringing to an end
the old heathen empire, to make way for the empire of
Christ, which shall last to all eternity. After that, upon
the fall of Antichrist, an end is put to Satan's visible king
dom on earth, to establish Christ's kingdom, which is an
eternal kingdom ; as the prophet Daniel says, chap. vii.
27. " And the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness
of the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given to
the people of the saints of the Most High, whose kingdom
is an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions shall serve
and obey him ;" which is another instance of the ending
of the temporary world, and the beginning of the eternal
one. And then, lastly, the very frame of this corruptible
world shall come to an end, to make way for the church
to dwell in another dwelling-place, which shall last to
eternity. Because the world is thus coming to an end by various
steps and degrees, the apostle perhaps uses this expression,
that (not the end but) the ends of the world are come on
us ; as though the world has several endings one after
another. — The gospel-dispensation is a finishing state : it
is all spent in finishing things off which before had been
preparing, or abolishing things which before had stood.
It is all spent as it were in summing things up, and bring
ing them to their issues, and their proper fulfilment. Now
all the old types are fulfilled, and the predictions -of all
the prophets from the beginning of the world shall be ac
complished in this period.
III. That state of things which is attained in the events
of this period is called a new heaven and a new earth :
Isa. lxv. 17, 18. "For behold, I create new heavens, and
a new earth : and the former shall not be remembered,
nor come into mind. But be you glad and rejoice for
ever in that which I create : for behold, I create Jerusalem
a rejoicing, and her people a joy." And chap. lxvi. 22.
" For as the new heavens and the new earth which I make,
shall remain before me ; so shall your seed and your name

584

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

remain." See also chap. li. 16. As the former state of
things, or the old world, by one step after another, is
through this period coming to an end ; so the new state of
things, or the new world, which is a spiritual world, is
beginning and setting up. In consequence of each of
these finishings of the old state of things, there is the
beginning of a new and eternal state. So that which ac
companied the destruction of the literal Jerusalem, was
an establishing of the spiritual. So with respect to the
destruction of the old heathen empire, and all the other
endings of the old state of things ; till at length the very
outward frame of the world itself shall come to an end ;
and the church shall dwell in heaven, which will be a
new habitation. Then shall the utmost be accomplished
that is meant by the new heavens and the new earth. (See
Rev. xxi. 1 .)
The end of God's creating the world, was to prepare a
kingdom for his Son, (for he is appointed heir of the
world,) which should remain to all eternity. So for as the
kingdom of Christ is set up in the world, so far is the
world brought to its end, and the eternal state of things
set up — so far are all the great changes and revolutions of
the world brought to their everlasting issue, and all things
come to their ultimate period — so far are the waters of the
long channel of divine providence, which has so many
branches, and so many windings, emptied into their proper
ocean, which they have been seeking from the beginning
of their course, and so are come to their rest. So far as
Christ's kingdom is established in the world, so far are
things wound up and settled in their everlasting state, and
a period put to the course of things in this changeable
world ; so far are the first heavens and the first earth come
to an end, and the new heavens and the new earth, the
everlasting heavens and earth, established in their room. —
This leads me to observe,
IV. That the state of things which is attained by the
events of this period, is what is so often called the kingdom
of heaven, or the kingdom qf God. We very often read
in the New Testament of tbe kingdom of heaven. John
the Baptist preached, that the kingdom of heaven was at
hand ; and so did Christ and his disciples after him ; re
ferring to something that the Jews in those days expected,
and called by that name. They seem to have" taken their
expectation and the name chiefly from that prophecy of
Daniel in Nebuchadnezzar's dream, Dan. ii. 44. "And
in the days of these kings shall the God of heaven set up
a kingdom ;" together with chap. vii. 13, 14.
Now this kingdom qf heaven is that evangelical state of
things in the church,' and in the world, wherein consists
the success of Christ's redemption in this period. There
had been often great kingdoms set up before ; as the
Babylonish, the Persian, the Grecian, and the Roman
monarchies. But Christ came to set up the last, which is
not an earthly kingdom, but a heavenly, John xviii. 36.
" My kingdom is not of this world." This is the kingdom
of which Christ speaks, Luke xxii. 29. "My Father hath
appointed to me a kingdom." This kingdom began soon
after Christ's resurrection, and is accomplished in various
steps from that time to the end of the world. Sometimes
by the kingdom qf heaven, is meant not only that spiritual
state of the church which began soon after Christ's resur
rection ; but also that more perfect state which shall obtain
after the downfall of Antichrist ; and sometimes that glo
rious and blessed state to which the church shall be re
ceived at the day of judgment. So 1 Cor. xv. 50. "This
I say, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of
God." — Under this head I would observe several things
particularly, for the clearer understanding of what the
Scripture says conceming this period.
1. The setting up of the kingdom of Christ is chiefly
accomplished by four successive great events, each of
which is in Scripture called Christ's coming in his kingdom.
The first is Christ's appearing in those wonderful dispen
sations of providence in the apostles' days, in setting up
his kingdom, and destroying its enemies, which ended in the
destruction of Jerusalem. This is called Christ's coming in
his kingdom, Matt. xvi. 28. "Verily I say unto you, there
be some standing here, which shall not taste of death till
they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom." (And
Matt, xxiv.) The second is that which was accomplished

in Constantine's time, in the destruction of the heathen
Roman empire. This is represented as Christ's coming,
and is compared to his coming to judgment, (Rev. vi. at
the latter end.) The third is that which is to be accom
plished at the destruction of Antichrist. This also is
represented as Christ's coming in his kingdom in the 7th
chapter of Daniel, and in other places. The fourth and last
is his coming to the last judgment, which is the event princi
pally signified in Scripture by Christ's coming in his kingdom.
Jk Each of the three former of these is a lively image,
or type, of the fourth and last, viz. Christ's coming to the
final judgment, as the principal dispensations of provi
dence before were types or his first coming.  As
Christ's last coming to judgment is accompanied with the
resurrection of the dead, so is each of the three foregoing
with a spiritual resurrection. That coming of Christ
which ended in the destruction of Jerusalem, was pre
ceded by a glorious spiritual resurrection of souls in the
calling of the Gentiles through the preaching of the gospel.
Christ s coming in Constantine's time, was accompanied
with a glorious spiritual resurrection of the greater part of
the known world, in a restoration of it to a visible church
state, from a state of heathenism. Christ's coming at the
destruction of Antichrist, will be attended with a spiritual
resurrection of the church after it had been long as it
were dead, in the times of Antichrist. This is called the
first resurrection in the 20th chapter of Revelation.
Again, as Christ in the last judgment will gloriously
manifest himself coming in the glory of his Father, so in
each of the three foregoing events Christ gloriously mani
fested himself in sending judgments upon his enemies,
and in showing favour to his church. As the last coming
of Christ will be attended with a literal gathering together
of the elect from the four winds of heaven, so were each
of the preceding attended with a spiritual gathering in of
the elect. As this gathering together of the elect will be
effected by God's angels with a great sound of a trumpet ;
(Matt. xxiv. 31.) so were each of the preceding spiritual
ingatherings effected by the trumpet of the gospel, sounded
by the ministers of Christ. As there shall precede the
last appearance of Christ, a time of great degeneracy and
wickedness, so this has been, or will be, the case with
each of the other appearances. Before each of them is a
time of great opposition to the church : before the first,
by the Jews ; before the second, in Constantine's time,
by the heathen; before the third, by Antichrist ; and before
the last, by Gog and Magog, as described in the Revelation.
By each of these comings of Christ, God works a glo
rious deliverance for his church. The_5rst, which ended
in the destruction of Jerusalem, was attended with bring
ing the church into the glorious state of the gospel. The
second, which was in Constantine's time, was accompanied
with an advancement of the church into a state of liberty
from persecution, the countenance of civil authority, anil
her triumph over heathen persecutors. The third, "which
shall be at the downfall of Antichrist, will be accompanied
with an advancement of the church into that state of the
glorious prevalence of truth, liberty, peace, and joy, which
we so often read of in the prophetical parts of Scripture.
The last will be attended with the advancement of the
church to consummate glory in heaven.
Each of these comings of Christ is accompanied with a
terrible destruction of the wicked, and the enemies of the
church : the first, with the destruction of the persecuting
Jews, whicK was amazingly terrible; the second, with
dreadful judgments on the heathen persecutors of the
church ; the third, with the awful destruction of Antichrist,
the most cruel and bitter enemy that ever the church had ;
the fourth, with divine wrath and vengeance on all the
ungodly.— Further, there is in each of these comings of
Christ an ending of the old, and a beginning of new,
heavens and a new earth ; or an end of a temporal state
of things, and a beginning of an eternal state.
3. I would observe, that each of those four great dis
pensations which are represented as Christ's coming in his
kingdom, are but so many steps and degrees of the accom
plishment of one event. Thev are not the setting up of so
many distinct kingdoms of Christ ; but only several de
grees of the accomplishment of that one event prophesied
of, Dan. vii. 13, 14. " And I saw in the night-visions, and

Sect.

SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATIONS OF THIS PERIOD.

behold, one like the Son of man came with the clouds of
heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, and they brought
him near before him. And there was given him dominion,
and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and
languages, should serve him : his dominion is an everlast
ing dominion, and his kingdom that which shall not be
destroyed." This is what the Jews expected, and called
« the coming of the kingdom of heaven ;" and what John
the Baptist and Christ had respect to, when they said,
" The kingdom of heaven is at hand." This great event
is accomplished by several steps.
4. When Christ came with the preaching of the apos
tles, to set up his kingdom in the world, which dispensa
tion ended with the destruction of Jerusalem, then it was
accomplished in a glorious degree ; when the heathen em
pire was destroyedin Constantine's time, it was fulfilled
in a further degree ; when Antichrist shall be destroyed,
it will be accomplished in a yet higher degree ; but when
the end of the world is come, then will it be accomplished
in its moit perfect degree of all. And because these four
great events are but images one of another, and the three
former but types of the last, and since they are all only
several steps of the accomplishment of the same thing;
hence we find them all from time to time prophesied of
under one, as in the prophecies of Daniel, and in the 24th
chapter of Matthew, where some things seem more appli
cable to one of them, and others to another.
Thus it appears, that as there are several steps of the
accomplishment of the kingdom of Christ, so in each one
of them the event is accomplished in a further degree than
in the foregoing. That in the time of Constantine was a
greater and further accomplishment of the kingdom of
Christ, than that which ended in the destruction of Jeru
salem ; that which shall be at the fall of Antichrist, will
be a further accomplishment of the same thing, than that
which took place in the time of Constantine ; and so on
with regard to each : so that the kingdom of Christ is
gradually prevailing and growing by these several great
steps of its fulfilment, from the time of Christ's resurrec
tion, to the end of the world.
5. The great providences of God between these four
events, are to make way for the kingdom and glory of
Christ in the great event following. Those dispensations
of providence towards the church and the world, before
the destruction ofthe heathen empire in the time of Con
stantine, seem all to have been to make way for the glory
of Christ, and the happiness of the church in that event.
And so the great providences after that, till the destruction
of Antichrist, and the beginning of the glorious times of
the church which follow, seem all calculated to prepare the
way for the greater glory of Christ and his church in that
event ; and the following ones to the end of the world,
seem to be for the greater manifestation of Christ's glory
at the consummation of all things. — Thus I thought it
needful to observe those things in general concerning this
last period, before I take notice of particular providences
by which the work of redemption is carried on through
this period, in their order.
Before I proceed, I will briefly answer an Inquiry, viz.
Why the setting up of Christ's kingdom after his humilia
tion, should be so gradual, since God could easily have
finished it at once? — Though it would be presumption in
us to pretend to declare all the ends of God in this, yet
doubtless much of his wisdom may be seen in it; and
particularly in these two things.
1. In this way the glory of God's wisdom is more
visible to the observation of creatures. If it had been
done at once, or in a very short time, there would not have
been such opportunities for creatures to perceive and ob
serve the particular steps of divine wisdom, as when the
work is gradually accomplished, and one effect of his
wisdom is held forth to observation after another. It is
wisely determined of God, to accomplish his great design
ny a wonderful and long series of events, that the glory of
nis wisdom may be displayed, in the whole series of
events, that the glory of his perfection may be seen, in
particular successive manifestations. If all that glory
which appears in these events had been manifested at once,
it would have been too much for us; it would have over
powered our sight and capacities.

585
2. Satan is more gloriously triumphed over.— Cod could
easily, by an act of almighty power, at once have crashed
Satan. But by giving him time to use his utmost subtlety
to hinder the success of what Christ had done and suffered,
he is not defeated merely by surprise, but has large op
portunity to ply his utmost power and subtlety again and
again, to strengthen his own interest all that he can by the
work of many ages. Thus God destroys and confounds
him, and sets up Christ's kingdom time after time, in spite
of all his subtle machinations and great works, and by
every step advances it still higher and higher, till at length
it is fully set up, and Satan perfectly and eternally van
quished.— I now proceed to take notice of the particular
events, whereby, from the end of Christ's humiliation to
the end ofthe world, the success of Christ's purchase has
been or shall be accomplished.

SECT. II.
How Christ was capacitated for effecting his purpose.
As the incarnation of Christ was necessary in order to
his being in a near capacity for the purchase of redemption ;
so his resurrection and ascension were requisite in order to
the succesi of his purchase.
I. His resurrection. It was necessary in order to Christ's
obtaining the end and effect of his purchase of redemption,
that he should rise from the dead. For God the Father
had committed the whole affair of redemption to his Son,
that he should not only purchase it as priest, but actually
bring it about as king ; and that he should do this as God-
man. God the Father would have nothing to do with
fallen man in a way of mercy but by a mediator. But in
order that Christ might accomplish the success of his own
purchase as God-man, it was necessary that he should
rise from the dead. Therefore Christ, after he had finished
this purchase by death, rises from the dead, to fulfil the
end of his purchase. This matter God the Father had
committed unto him, that he might, as Lord of all, manage
all to his own purposes : Rom. xiv. 9. " For to this end
Christ both died, and rose, and revived, that he might be
Lord both of the dead and of the living."
Indeed Christ's resurrection (and so his ascension) was
part of the success of what Christ did and suffered in his
humiliation. For though Christ did not properly purchase
redemption for himself, yet he purchased eternal life and
glory for himself, as a reward of what he did and suffered :
Phil. ii. 8, 9. " He humbled himself, and became obedient
unto death, even the death of the cross. Wherefore God
also hath highly exalted him." And it may be looked
upon as part of the success of Christ's purchase, since he
did not rise as a private person, but as the head of the
elect church; so that they did, as it were, all rise with
him. Christ was justified in his resurrection, i. e. God
acquitted and discharged him hereby, as having done and
suffered enough for the sins of all the elect: Rom. iv. 25.
" Who was delivered for our offences, and raised again for
our justification." And God put him in possession of
eternal life, as the head of the church, as a sure earnest
that they should follow. For when Christ rose from the
dead, that was the beginning of eternal life in him. His
life before his death was a mortal life, a temporal life ; but
after his resurrection it was an eternal life : Rom. vi. 9.
" Knowing that Christ being raised from the dead, dieth
no more ; death hath no more dominion over him." Rev.
i. 18. " I am he that liveth, and was dead ; and behold, I
am alive for evermore, Amen."  But he was put in pos
session of this eternal life, as the head of the body ; so
that the whole church, as it were, rises in him. And now
he who lately suffered so much, is to suffer no more for
ever, but has entered into eternal glory.
This resurrection of Christ is the most joyful event that
ever came to pass ; because hereby Christ rested from the
great and difficult work of purchasing redemption, and
received God's testimony, that it was finished. The death
of Christ was the greatest and most wonderful event that
ever came to pass ; but that has a great deal in it that is
sorrowful. But by the resurrection of Christ, that sorrow
is turned into joy. The Head of the church, in that great

586

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

event, enters on the possession of eternal life; and the
whole church is, as it were, begotten again to a lively hope,
1 Pet. i. 3. Weeping had continued for a night, but now
joy cometh in the morning. This is the day of his reign
ing, as the head of the church, and all the church reigns
with him. This day was worthy to be commemorated
with the greatest joy. Ps. cxviii. 24. " This is the day
which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in
it." And therefore this, above all other days, is appointed
to the end of the world, to be weekly sanctified, as a day
of holy rest and joy, that the church therein may rest and
rejoice with her Head. And as the 3d chapter of Genesis
is the most sorrowful chapter in the Bible; so those
chapters in the evangelist, that give an account of the
resurrection of Christ, may be looked upon as the most
joyful. These give an account of the finishing of the
purchase of redemption, and the beginning of the glory of
the Head of the church, as the greatest seal and earnest of
the eternal glory of all the members.
It is further to be observed, that the day of the gospel
most properly begins with the resurrection of Christ. Till
Christ rose from the dead, the Old-Testament dispensation
remained : but now it ceases, all being fulfilled that was
shadowed forth in the typical ordinances of that dispensa
tion. Here most properly is the end of the Old-Testament
night ; and Christ rising from the grave with joy and glory,
was like the sun rising after a long night of darkness,
appearing in joyful light to enlighten the world. Now
that joyful dispensation begins, that glorious dispensation,
of which the prophets testified so much. Now the gospel-
sun is risen in his glory, and with healing in his wings,
that those who fear G od's name, may go forth, and grow
up as calves of the stall.
II. Christ's ascension into heaven. In this I would in
clude his sitting at the right hand of God. For Christ's
ascension was nothing else, but ascending to God's right
hand in glory. A deliverer of a people as their king, in
order that he may be under the best capacity for it, is first
installed in his throne. We are told, that Christ was ex
alted for this end, that he might accomplish the success of
his redemption: Acts v. 31. " Him nam God exalted
with his right hand, for to give repentance unto Israel, and
the remission of sins."
Christ's ascension into heaven was, as it were, his solemn
coronation, when the Father set him upon the throne, and
invested him with the glory of that kingdom which he had
purchased for himself, that he might thereby obtain the
success of his redemption in conquering all his enemies :
Ps. ex. 1 . " Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine
enemies thy footstool." Christ entered into heaven, in
order to obtain the success of his purchase, as the high
priest of old, after he had offered sacrifice, entered into
the holy of holies with the blood of the sacrifice, in order
to obtain the success of the sacrifice which he had offered.
See Heb. ix. 12. He entered into heaven, there to make
intercession for his people, to plead the sacrifice which he
had made in order to the success of it, Heb. vii. 25. — And
as he ascended into heaven, God the Father did in a visible
manner set him on the throne as king of the universe. He
then put the angels all under him, and subjected to him
heaven and earth, that he might govern them for the good
of the people for whom he died, Eph. i. 20—22. — And as
Christ rose from the dead, so he ascended into heaven, as
the head of the body, and forerunner of all the church ;
and they, as it were, ascend with him : so that we are
both raised up together, and made to sit together in hea
venly places in Christ, Eph. ii. 6.
The day of Christ's ascension was doubtless a joyful,
glorious day in heaven. And as heaven received Christ,
God-man, as its king, so doubtless it received a great ac
cession of glory and happiness. So that the times in both
parts of the church, that part which is in heaven, and that
which is on earth, are become more glorious since Christ's
humiliation than before. — So much for those things where
by Christ was put into the best capacity for obtaining the
success of redemption.

SECT. III.
Established means qf success.
Consider those dispensations of Providence, by which
the means of this success were established after Christ's
resurrection. I. The abolishing the Jewish dispensation. This indeed
was gradually done, but it began from the time of Christ's
resurrection, in which the abolition of it is founded. For
the Jewish dispensation was not fitted for the practice of
the world in general, or for a church of God dwelling in
all parts of the world : nor would it have been practicable
by them. It would have been impossible for men living
in all parts of the world to go to Jerusalem three times
a year, as was prescribed in that constitution. When
therefore God had a design of enlarging his church, as he
did after Christ's resurrection, it was necessary that this
dispensation should be abolished. If it had been con
tinued, it would have been a great block and hinderance to
the enlargement of the church. Besides, their ceremonial
law, by reason of its burdensomeness, and great peculiarity
of some of its rites, was a wall of partition between the
Jews and Gentiles, and would have kept the Gentiles from
complying with the true religion. This wall therefore was
broken down to make way for the more extensive success
of the gospel; as Eph. ii. 14, 15.
II. The next thing in order of time seems to be the ap
pointment of the christian sabbath. For though this was
gradually established in the christian church, yet those
things by which the revelation of God's mind and will
was made, began on the day of Christ's resurrection, by
his appearing then to his disciples, John xx. 19. And
afterwards, his appealing was from time to time on that
day rather than any other, John xx. 26. This appoint
ment was confirmed by his sending down the Holy Spirit
so remarkably on that" day, Acts ii. 1. and afterwards by
directing, that the public worship of Christians should be
on that day, which may be concluded from Acts xx. 7.
1 Cor. xvi. 1, 2. and Rev. i. 10. And so the day of the
week on which Christ rose from the dead, that joyful day,
is appointed to be the day of the church's holy rejoicing
to the end of the world, and the day of their stated public
worship. And this is a very great and principal means of
the success which the gospel has had in the world.
III. The next thing was Christ's appointment of the
gospel-ministry, by commissioning and sending forth his
apostles to teach and baptize all nations. Of these things
we have an account in Matt, xxviii. 19, 20. " Go ye, there
fore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ;
teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have
commanded you ; and lo, I am with you alway, even unto
the end of the world."  There were three things done
by this one commission of Christ to his apostles, viz.
1 . The appointment of the office of the gospel-ministry.
— For this commission which Christ gives to his apostles,
in the most essential parts of it, belongs to all ministers ;
and the apostles, by virtue of it, were ministers or elders
of the church.
2. Something peculiar in this commission, viz. to go
forth from one nation to another, preaching the gospel in
all the world. The apostles had something above what
belonged to their ordinary character as ministers; they
had an extraordinary power of teaching and ruling, which
extended to all the churches ; and not only all the churches
which then were, but all that should be to the end of the
world by their ministry. And so the apostles were, in
subordination to Christ, made foundations of the christian
church. See Eph. ii. 20. and Rev. xxi. 14.
3. Here is an appointment of Christian baptism. This
ordinance indeed had a beginning before ; John the Bap
tist and Christ baptized. But now especially by this
institution is it established as an ordinance to be upheld
in the christian church to the end of the world.  Tbe
ordinance of the Lord's supper had been established
before, just before Christ's crucifixion.
IV. The next thing to be observed, is the enduing the
apostles, and others, with extraordinary and miraculous gifts
of the Holy Ghost ; such as the gift of tongues, the gift of

Sect. 111.

ESTABLISHED MEANS OF SUCCESS.

587

healing, of prophecy, &c. The Spirit of God was poured
out in great abundance in this respect ; so that not only
ministers, but a very great part of the Christians through
the world were endued with them, both old and young ;
not only officers, and more honourable persons, but the
meaner sort of people, servants, and handmaids, agreeable
to Joel's prophecy, Joel ii. 28, 29. of which prophecy the
apostle Peter takes notice, that it is accomplished in this
dispensation, Acts ii. 11.
How wonderful a dispensation was this ! Under the
Old Testament but few had such honours put upon them
by God. Moses indeed wished that all the Lord's people
were prophets, Numb. xi. 29. whereas Joshua thought it
much that Eldad and Medad prophesied. But now we
find the wish of Moses fulfilled. And this continued in a
very considerable degree to the end of the apostolic age, or
the first hundred years after the birth of Christ, which is
therefore called the age qf miracles.
This was a great means of the success of the gospel, and
of establishing the christian church, not only in that age,
but in all ages to the end of the world. For Christianity
being established through so great a part of the known
World by miracles, it was after that more easily continued
by tradition ; and by means of these extraordinary gifts of
the Holy Ghost, the apostles and others were enabled to
write the New Testament, to be an infallible and perpe
tual rule of faith and manners to the church. And these
miracles recorded in those writings are a standing proof of
the truth of Christianity to all ages.
V. The next thing is the revealing of those glorious
doctrines fully and plainly, which had under the Old
Testament been obscurely revealed. The doctrine of
Christ's satisfaction and righteousness, his ascension and
glory, and the way of salvation, were under the Old Testa
ment in a great measure hid under the vail of types and
shadows, and more obscure revelations, as Moses put a
• vail on his face to hide the shining of it ; but now the vail
of the temple is rent from the top to the bottom. Christ,
the antetype of Moses, shines ; his face is without a vail ;
2 Cor. iii. 12, 13, and 18. Now these glorious myste
ries, which were in a great measure kept secret from the
foundation of the world, are clearly revealed. Eph. iii. 3 —
5. Rom. xvi. 25. " According to the revelation of the
mystery which was kept secret since the world began, but
now is made manifest;" and, Col. i. 26. " Even the
mystery which hath been hid from ages and generations,
but now is made manifest to his saints."
Thus the Sun of righteousness, after it is risen, begins
to shine forth clearly, and not by a dim reflection as
before. — Christ, before his death, revealed many things
more clearly than ever they had been in the Old Testa
ment : but the great mysteries of Christ's redemption,
reconciliation by his death, and justification by his righte
ousness, were not so plainly revealed before Christ's
resurrection. Christ gave this reason for it, that he would
not put new wine into old bottles ; and it was gradually
done even after his resurrection. In all likelihood, Christ
much more clearly instructed them personally after his
resurrection, and before his ascension ; as we read that he
continued with them forty days, speaking of the things
pertaining to the kingdom, Acts i. 3. and that " he opened
their understandings, that they might understand the
scriptures," Luke xxiv. 45. But the clear revelation of
these things was principally after the pouring out of the
Spirit on the day of Pentecost, agreeable to Christ's pro
mise, John xvi. 12, 13. "I have yet many things to say
unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit, when
the Spirit of truth is come, he shall guide you into all
truth. This clear revelation of the mysteries of the gospel,
as they are delivered, we have chiefly through the hands
of the apostle Paul, by whose writings a child may come
to know more of the doctrines of the gospel, in many
respects, than the greatest prophets knew under the dark
ness of the Old Testament.
Thus we see how the light of the gospel, which began
to dawn immediately after the fall, and gradually increased
through all the ages of the Old Testament, is' now come
to the light of perfect day, as the brightness of the sun
shining forth in his unvailed glory.
VI. The next thing that I would observe, is the appoint

ment of the office of deacons in the christian church,
which we have an account of in the 6th chapter of the
Acts, to take care for the outward supply of the members
of Christ's church, and the exercise of that great christian
virtue charity. .
VII. The calling, qualifying, and sending the apostle
Paul. This was begun in his conversion as lie was going
to Damascus, and was one of the greatest means of the
success of Christ's redemption that followed : for this
success was more by the labours, preaching, and writings
of this apostle, than all the other apostles put together.
For, as he says, 1 Cor. xv. 10. he laboured more abundantly
than they all. As he was the apostle of the Gentiles, so it
was mainly by his ministry that the Gentiles were called
and the gospel spread through the world. Our nation,
and the other nations of Europe, have the gospel among
them chiefly through his means ; and he was more em
ployed by the Holy Ghost in revealing the glorious doc
trines of the gospel by his writings, for the use of the
church in all ages, than all the other apostles taken together.
VIII. The next thing I would observe, is the institu
tion of ecclesiastical councils, for deciding controversies,
and ordering the affairs of the church of Christ, of which
we have an account in the 15th chapter of Acts.
IX. The last thing I shall mention under this head, is
the committing the New Testament to writing. This was
all written after the resurrection of Christ by the apostles
themselves, except the gospels of Mark and Luke, and the
book of the Acts. He that wrote the gospel of Mark, is
supposed to be the son of Mary, in whose house they
were praying for Peter, when he, brought out of prison by
the angel, came and knocked at the door ; of which we
read, Acts xii. 12. "And when he had considered the
thing, he came to the house of Mary the mother of John,
whose surname was Mark, where many were gathered
together, praying." He was the companion of the apos
tles Barnabas and Paul : Acts xv. 37. " And Barnabas
determined to take with them John, whose surname was
Mark." — He was Bamabas's sister's son, and seems some
time to have been a companion of the apostle Paul : Col.
iv. 10. " Aristarchus, my fellow-prisoner, saluteth you,
and Marcus, sister's son to Barnabas ; touching whom
ve received commandment : if he come unto you, receive
Kim." The apostles seem to have made great account of
him, as appears by those places, and also by Acts xii. 25.
" And Barnabas and Saul returned from Jerusalem, and
took with them John, whose surname was Mark ;" and
Acts xiii. 5. " And when they were at Salamis, they
preached the word of God in the synagogues of the Jews ;
and they had also John to their minister ;" and 2 Tim. iv.
11." Only Luke is with me : take Mark and bring him
with thee ; for he is profitable to me for the ministry."
He who wrote the gospel of Luke and the book of
Acts, was a great companion of the apostle Paul. Beside
the last-mentioned place, he speaks of himself as accom
panying Paul in his travels, and therefore speaks in the
first person plural ; We went to such a place ; We set
sail, &c. He was greatly beloved by the apostle Paul :
he is that beloved physician spoken of, Col. iv. 14. The
apostle ranks Mark and Luke among his fellow-labourers,
Philemon 24. " Marcus, Aristarchus, Demas, Lucas, my
fellow-labourers." The books of the New Testament are either historical,
doctrinal, or prophetical. The historical books are the
writings of the four evangelists, giving us the history of
Christ, his purchase of redemption, his resurrection and
ascension ; and the Acts of the Apostles, giving an account
of the great things by which the christian church was first
established and propagated . The doctrinal books are the
epistles ; most of which we have from the great apostle
Paul. And we have one prophetical book, which takes
place after the end of the history of the whole Bible, and
gives an account of the great events which were to come
to pass, by which the work of redemption was to be
carried on to the end of the world.
All these books are supposed to have been written be
fore the destruction of Jerusalem, excepting those which
were written by the apostle John, who lived the longest of
all the apostles, and who wrote after the destruction of
Jerusalem, as is supposed. To this beloved disciple it

586

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

was that Christ revealed those wonderful things which
were to come to pass in his church to the end of time ;
and he was the person who put the finishing hand to the
canon of Scripture, and sealed the whole of it. So that
now the canon of Scripture, that great and standing written
rule, which was begun about Moses's time, is completed
and settled, and a curse denounced against him that adds
any thing to it, or diminishes any thing from it. And so
all the stated means of grace were finished in the apostolical
age, or before the death of the apostle John, and are to re
main unaltered to the day of judgment. Thus far we have
considered those things by which the means of grace were
given and established in the christian church.

SECT. IV.
How the success was carried on.
Fhom Christ's resurrection till the fall of Antichrist, is
the appointed day of Zion's troubles. During this space
of time, some part or other of the church is under perse
cution ; and great part of the time, the whole church, or at
least the generality of God's people, have been persecuted.
For the first three hundred years after Christ, the church
was for the most part in a state of great affliction, the ob
ject of reproach and persecution ; first by the Jews, and
then by the heathen. — After this, from the beginning of
Constantine's time, the church had rest and prosperity for
a little while ; which is represented in Rev. vii. at the be
ginning, by the angel's holding the four winds for a little
while. But presently after, the church again suffered per
secution from the Arians. After that, Antichrist rose, the
church was driven away into the wilderness, was kept
down in obscurity, contempt, and suffering, for a long time
before the Reformation by Luther and others. And since
the Reformation, the church's persecutions have been be
yond all that ever were before. And though some parts of
God's church sometimes have had rest, yet to this day, for
the most part, the true church is very much kept under by
its enemies, and some parts of it under grievous persecu
tion. And so we may expect it will continue till the fell
of Antichrist. Then will come the appointed day of the
church's prosperity on earth, the set time in which God
will favour Zion, the time when the saints shall not be
kept under by wicked men, but wherein they shall reign,
as it is said, Rev. v. 10. " And the kingdom shall be given
to the people of the saints of the Most High," Dan. vii. 27.
The suffering state of the church is in Scripture repre
sented as a state of the church's travail, (John xvi. 20, 21.
and Rev. xii. 1, 2.) striving to bring forth that glory and
prosperity which shall be after the fall of Antichrist, and
then shall she bring forth her child. This is a long time
of the church's trouble and affliction, though it be but for
a little season, in comparison of the eternal prosperity of
the church. Hence under the long continuance of this
affliction, she cries out, (Rev. vi. 10.) " How long, O Lord,
holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood
on them that dwell on the earth ?" And we are told, that
" white robes were given unto every one of them ; and it
was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little
season, until their fellow-servants also, and their brethren
that should be killed as they were, should be fulfilled."
So, Dan. xii. 6. " How long shall it be to the end of these
wonders." It is to be observed, that during the time of these suf
ferings of the church, the main instrument of their suffer
ings has been the Roman government. Rome therefore in
the New Testament is called Babylon ; because, as of old
the troubles of the city of Jerusalem were mainly from that
adverse city Babylon, so the troubles of the christian
church, the spiritual Jerusalem, during the long time of its
tribulation, are mainly from Rome. Before the time of
Constantine, the troubles of the christian church were from
heathen Rome : since that time, its troubles have been
mainly from antichristian Rome. And as of old, the cap
tivity of the Jews ceased on the destruction of Babylon,
so the time of the trouble of the christian church will cease
with the destruction of the church of Rome, that spiritual
Babylon.

PART I.
THE SUCCESS OF REDEMPTION FROM THE RESURRECTION
OF CHRIST TO THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM.
I would now show, how the success of Christ's pur
chase of redemption was carried on from Christ's resurrec
tion to the destruction of Jerusalem. In speaking of this
I would, 1. take notice of the success itself; and, 2. the
opposition made against it by its enemies ; and, 3. the ter
rible judgments of God on tliose enemies.
I. I would observe the success itself. Soon after Christ
had entered into the holy of holies with his own blood,
there began a glorious success of what he had done and
suffered. — Having undermined the foundation of Satan's
kingdom, it began to fall apace. Swiftly did it hasten to
ruin, which might well be compared to Satan's falling like
lightning from heaven. Satan before had exalted his throne
very high in this world, even to the very stars of heaven,
reigning with great glory in his heathen Roman empire ;
but never before had he such a downfall as he had soon
after Christ's ascension. He had, we may suppose, been
very lately triumphing in a supposed victory, having
brought about the death of Christ, which he doubtless
gloried in as the greatest feat that ever he did ; and pro
bably imagined he had totally defeated God's design by
him. But he was quickly made sensible, that he had only
been ruining his own kingdom, when he saw it tumbling
so fast so soon after, as a consequence of the death of
Christ. For Christ, having ascended, and received the
Holy Spirit, poured it forth abundantly for the conversion
of thousands and millions of souls.
Never had Christ's kingdom been so set up in the world.
There probably were more souls converted in the age of
the apostles, than had been before from the beginning of
the world till that time. Thus God so soon begins glori
ously to accomplish his promise to his Son, wherein he had
promised, That he should see his seed, and that the
pleasure of the Lord should prosper in his hand, if he
would make his soul an offering for sin. And,
1. Here is to be observed the success which the gospel
had among the Jews ; for God first began with them. He
being about to reject the main body of that people, first
calls in his elect from among them. It was so in former
great and dreadful judgments of God on that nation ; the
bulk of them were destroyed, and only a remnant saved, or
reformed. The bulk of the ten tribes was rejected, when
they left the true worship of God under Jeroboam, and
afterwards more fully in Ahab's time ; but yet there was a
remnant of them reserved. Many left their possessions in
these tribes, and settled in the tribes of Judah and Benja
min. And afterwards there were seven thousand in Ahab's
time, who had not bowed the knee to Baal. From the
captivity into Babylon, only a remnant of them ever re
turned to their own land. So now the greater part of the
people were rejected entirely, but some few were saved.
And therefore the Holy Ghost compares this reservation of
a number that were converted by the preaching of the
apostles, to those former remnants : Rom. ix. 27. " Esaias
also crieth concerning Israel, Though the number of the
children of Israel be as the sand of the sea, a remnant shall
be saved." — See Isa. x. 22.
The glorious success of the gospel among the Jews
after Christ's ascension, began by the pouring out of the
Spirit upon the day of Pentecost. (Acts ii.) So wonder
ful was this effusion, and so remarkable and swift the ef
fect of it, that we read of three thousand who were con
verted to the christian faith in one day, Acts ii. 41. and
probably the greater part of these were savingly converted.
And after this, we read of God's adding to the church
daily such as should be saved, (ver. 47.) Soon after, we
read, that the number of them were about five thousand.
Thus were not only a multitude converted, but the church
was then eminent in piety, as appears by Acts ii. 46, 47.
iv. 32.
Tims the christian church was first formed from the na
tion of Israel ; and therefore, when the Gentiles were
called, they were added to the christian church of Israel, as

Part I.

TO THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM.

589

the proselytes of old were to the Mosaic church of Israel.
They were only grafted on the stock of Abraham, and
were not a distinct tree ; for they were all still the seed of
Abraham and Israel ; as Ruth the Moabitess, and Uriah
the Hittite, and other proselytes of old, were the same
people, and ranked as the seed of Israel.
The christian church began at Jerusalem, and from
thence was propagated to all nations : so that this church
of Jerusalem was the mother of all other churches in the
world; agreeable to the prophecy, Isa. ii. 3, 4. " Out of
Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord
from Jerusalem : and he shall judge among the nations,
and rebuke many people." So that the whole church of
God is still his spiritual Jerusalem.
After this, we read of many thousands of Jews in Jeru
salem that believed, Acts xxi. 20. And we read of mul
titudes of Jews who were converted in other cities of
Judea, and in ether parts of the world. For it was the
manner of the apostles to go first into the synagogues of the
Jews, and preach the gospel to them, and many in one
place and another believed ; as in Damascus, Antioch, and
many other places.
In this pouring out of the Spirit, at the Pentecost, be
gan that first great dispensation which is called Christ's
coming in his kingdom. Christ's coming thus in a spiritual
manner for the glorious erection of his kingdom in the
world, is represented as his coming down from heaven,
whither he had ascended, John xiv. 18. " I will not leave
you comfortless ; I will come unto you." And ver. 28.
" Ye have heard how I said unto you, I go away, and
come again unto you." And thus the apostles began to
see the kingdom of heaven come with power, as he pro
mised them, Mark ix. 1 .
2. After the success ofthe gospel had been so glorious
ly begun among the Jews, the Spirit of God was next
wonderfully poured out on the Samaritans ; who were the
posterity of those whom the king of Assyria removed from
different parts of his dominions, and settled in the land
which had been inhabited by the ten tribes, whom he car
ried captive. These had received the five books of Moses,
and practised most of the Mosaic rites, and so were a sort
of mongrel Jews. We do not find them reckoned as Gen
tiles in the New Testament : for the calling of the Gentiles
is spoken of as a new thing after this, beginning with the
conversion of Cornelius. But yet it was an instance of
making those a people who were no people : for they had
corrupted the religion of Moses, and did not go up to Je
rusalem to worship. They had another temple of then-
own in mount Gerizim ; which is the mountain of which
the woman of Samaria speaks, when she says, Our fathers
worshipped in this mountain. Christ there does not ap
prove of their separation from the Jews ; but says, that
they worshipped they knew not what, and that salvation
is of the Jews. But now salvation is brought from the
Jews to them by the preaching of Philip, (excepting that
before Christ had some success among them,) with whose
preaching there was a glorious pouring out of the Spirit
of God in the city of Samaria ; where we are told, that
" the people believed Philip preaching the things concern
ing the kingdom of Christ, and were baptized, both men
and women ; and that there was great joy in that city,
Acts viii. 8—12. ... ,
Thus Christ had a glorious harvest in Samaria ; accord
ing to what he said to his disciples at Jacob s well, three
or four years before, on occasion ofthe people of Samaria
appearing at a distance in the fields coming to the place
where he was. John iv. 35, 36. The disposition which
the people of Samaria showed towards Christ and his gos
pel, showed that they were ripe for the harvest; and now
the harvest is come by Philip's preaching. There used to
be a most bitter enmity between the Jews and Samaritans ;
but now, by their conversion, the christian Jews and Sa
maritans are all happily united : for in Christ Jesus is
neither Jew nor Samaritan, but Christ is all in all. lius
was a glorious instance of the wolf dwelling with the
lamb, and the leopard lying down with the kid.
3. The next thing to be observed is the calling the t_ en
tiles. This was a great and glorious dispensation, much
spoken of in the Old Testament, and by the apostles, as a
most glorious event. This was begun in the conversion ot

Cornelius and his family, greatly to the admiration of
Peter, who was used as the instrument of it, and of those
who were with him, Acts x. and xi. The next instance
was the conversion of great numbers of Gentiles in
Cyprus, Cyrene, and Antioch, by the disciples who were
scattered abroad by the persecution which arose about
Stephen, Acts xi. 19—21. And presently upon this the
disciples began to be called Christians first at Antioch,
(ver. 26.)
After this vast multitudes of Gentiles were converted in
different parts of the world, chiefly by the ministry of the
apostle Paul. Multitudes flocked into the church of
Christ in a great number of cities where the apostle
came. So the number of Gentile members of the chris
tian church soon far exceeded that of its Jewish mem
bers ; yea, in less than ten years' time after Paul was sent
forth from Antioch to preach to the Gentiles, it was said
of him and his companions, that they had turned the world
upside down : Acts xvii. 6. " These that have turned the
world upside down are come hither also." But the most
remarkable instance, seems to be that in Ephesus, which
was a very great city, Acts xix. There was also a very
extraordinary ingathering of souls at Corinth, one of the
greatest cities in all Greece. And after this many were
converted in Rome, the chief city of all the world ; and
the gospel was propagated into all parts of the Roman
empire. Thus the gospel-sun which had lately risen on
the Jews, now rose upon, and began to enlighten, the
heathen world, after they had continued in gross heathen
ish darkness for so many ages.
This was a great and new thing, such as never had
been before. All nations but the Jews, and a few who
had occasionally joined them, had been rejected from
about the time of Moses. The Gentile world had been
covered with the thick darkness of idolatry ; but now at
the joyful sound of the gospel, they began in all parts to
forsake their idols, and to cast them to the moles and to
the bats. They now learned to worship the true God, and
to trust in his Son Jesus Christ. God owned them for
his people; and those who had so long been afar off, were
made nigh by the blood of Christ. Men, from being
heathenish and brutish, became the children of God ; were
called out of Satan's kingdom of darkness, and brought
into God's marvellous light. In almost all countries
throughout the known world there were christian assem
blies, and joyful praises were sung to the true God, and
Jesus Christ the glorious Redeemer. Now that great
building which God began soon after the faU of man, rises
gloriously in a new manner ; now Daniel's prophecies
concerning the last kingdom, which should succeed the
four heathenish monarchies, begins to be fulfilled ; now
the stone cut out of the mountain without hands, began to
smite the image on its feet, and to break it in pieces, and
to make great advances towards filling the earth; and now
God gathers together his elect from the four winds of
heaven, by the preaching of the apostles and other minis
ters, (the angels of the christian church sent forth with the
great sound of the gospel-trumpet,) before the destruction
of Jerusalem, agreeable to what Christ foretold, Matt.
xxiv. 31. .
II. I would proceed now, in the second place, to take
notice of the opposition which was made to this success
of Christ's purchase by the enemies of it.  Satan, who
lately was so ready to triumph and exult, as though he
had gained the victory in putting Christ to death, now
finding himself fallen into the pit which he had digged,
and finding his kingdom felling so fast, and seeing Christ s
kingdom make such amazing progress, was filled with the
greatest confusion and astonishment : and hell seemed to
be effectually alarmed to make the most violent oppo
sition against it. And, first, the devil stirred up the Jews,
who had before crucified Christ, to persecute the church :
for it is observable, that the persecution which the church
suffered during this period, was mostly from the Jews.
Thus we read in the Acts, when the Holy Ghost was
poured out at Pentecost, how the Jews mocked, and said,
These men are full of new wine; and how the scribes and
Pharisees, and the captain of the temple, were alarmed,
and bestirred themselves to oppose and persecute the
apostles. They first apprehended and threatened them,

590

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

and afterwards imprisoned and beat them ; and breathing
out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the
Lord, they stoned Stephen in a tumultuous rage ; and
were not content to persecute those that they could find
in Judea, but sent abroad to Damascus and other places,
to persecute all that they could find every where. Herod,
who was chief among them, stretched forth his hands to
vex the church, and killed James with the sword, and pro
ceeded to take Peter also, and cast him into prison.
So in other countries we find, that almost wherever the
apostles came, the Jews opposed the gospel in a most
malignant manner, contradicting and blaspheming. How
many things did the blessed apostle Paul suffer at their
hands ! How violent and blood-thirsty did they show
themselves towards him, when he came to bring alms to
his nation ! In this persecution and cruelty was fulfilled
that saying of Christ, Matt, xxiii. 34. " Behold, I send
you prophets, and wise men, and scribes ; and some of
them ye shall kill and crucify, and some of them shall ye
scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them from city
to city."
III. I proceed to take notice of the judgments which
were executed on those enemies of Christ, the persecuting
Jews. 1. The bulk of the people were given up to judicial
blindness of mind and hardness of heart. Christ de
nounced such a woe upon them in the days of his flesh ;
Matt. xiii. 14, 15.  This curse was also denounced on
them by the apostle Paul, Acts xxviii. 25, 26, 27. and
under this curse, this judicial blindness and hardness,
they remain to this very day, having been subject to it for
about seventeen hundred years, being the most awful in
stance of such a judgment, and monument of God's
terrible vengeance, of any people. That they should con
tinue from generation to generation so obstinately to re
ject Christ, so that it is a very rare thing that any one of
them is converted to the christian faith — though their own
Scriptures of the Old Testament, which they acknowledge,
are so full of plain testimonies against them — is a remark
able evidence of their being dreadfully left of God.
2. They were rejected from being any longer God's
visible people. They were broken off from the stock of
Abraham, and since that have no more been reputed his
seed, than the Ishmaelites or Edomites, who are as much
his natural seed as they. The greater part of the two
tribes were now cast off, as the ten tribes had been before,
and another people were taken in their room, agreeable to
the predictions of their own prophets; Deut. xxxii. 21.
" They have moved me to jealousy with that which is not
God ; they have provoked me to anger with their vani
ties ; and I will move them to jealousy with those which
are not a people, I will provoke them to anger with a
foolish nation ;'' and Isaiah lxv. 1 . " I am sought of them
that asked not for me ; I am found of them that sought
me not."  They were visibly rejected by God's direct
ing his apostles to turn away from them, and let them
alone; Acts xiii. 46, 47. "Then Paul and Barnabas
waxed bold, and said, It was necessary that the word of
God should first have been spoken to you : but seeing ye
put it from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of ever
lasting life, lo, we turn to the Gentiles : for so hath the
Lord commanded us." And so Acts xviii. 6. and xxviii. 28.
Thus far we have had the scripture history to guide us:
henceforward we shall have the guidance only of scripture
prophecy, and human histories.
3. The third and last judgment of God on those ene
mies of the success of the gospel which I shall mention,
is the terrible destruction of their city and country by the
Romans. — They had great warnings and many means
used with them before this destruction. First, John the
Baptist warned them, and told them, that the axe was
laid at the root of the tree ; and that every tree which
should not bring forth good fruit, should be hewn down,
and cast into the fire. Then Christ warned them very
particularly, and told them of their approaching destruc
tion, at the thoughts of which he wept over them. And
then the apostles after Christ's ascension abundantly
warned them. But they proved obstinate, and went on
in their opposition to Christ and his church, and in their
bitter persecuting practices. Their so malignantly perse

cuting the apostle Paul, of which we have an account
towards the end of the Acts of the Apostles, is supposed
to have been not more than seven or eight years before
their destruction.
After this, God was pleased to give them one more
very remarkable warning by the apostle Paul, in his epis
tle to the Hebrews, written, it is supposed, about four
years before their destruction ; wherein the plainest and
clearest arguments are set before them from their own law,
and from their prophets, for whom they professed such a
regard, to prove that Christ Jesus must be the Son of
God, that all their law typified him, and that the Jewish
dispensation must needs have ceased. For though the
epistle was more immediately directed to the christian He
brews, yet the matter of the epistle plainly shows that the
apostle intended it for the use and conviction of the unbe
lieving Jews. And in this epistle he mentions particu
larly the approaching destruction, chap, x- 25. " So much
the more, as ye see the day approaching ;" and in ver. 27.
he speaks of the approaching judgment and fiery indigna
tion which should devour the adversaries.
But the generality of them, refusing to receive convic
tion, God soon destroyed with such terrible circumstances,
as the destruction of no country or city since the founda
tion of the world can parallel ; agreeable to what Christ
foretold, Matt. xxiv. 21. " For then shall be tribulation,
such as was not from the beginning of the world to this
time, no, nor ever shall be." The first destruction of
Jerusalem by the Babylonians was very terrible, as it is
in a most affecting manner described by the prophet Jere
miah, in his Lamentations ; but that was nothing to the
dreadful misery and wrath which they suffered in this de
struction. God, as Christ foretold, brought on them all
the righteous blood that had been shed from the founda
tion of the world. Thus the enemies of Christ are made
his footstool after his ascension, agreeable to God's pro
mise in Psalm ex. and he rules them with a rod of iron.
The briars and thorns set themselves against him in battle :
but he went through them ; he burned them together.
This destruction of Jerusalem was in all respects agree
able to what Christ had foretold of it, Matt. xxiv. as ap
pears by the account which Josephus gives of it, who
was then present, who had a share in the calamity, and
who wrote the history of their destruction. Many cir
cumstances resembled the destruction of the wicked at
the day of judgment ; by his account, it was accom
panied with many fearful sights in the heavens, and with
a separation of the righteous from the wicked. Their city
and temple were burnt, and razed to the ground ; and the
ground on which the city stood was ploughed, so that one
stone was not left upon another, Matt. xxiv. 2.
The people had ceased for the most part to be an in
dependent government after the Babylonish captivity ;
but the sceptre entirely departed from Judah on the
death of Archelaus, when Judea was made a Roman
province. After this, they were cast off from being the
people of God ; but now their very city and land are ut
terly destroyed, and they carried away from it; and so
have continued in their dispersions through the world for
now above sixteen hundred years.
Thus there was a final end put to the Old-Testament
^vorld : all was finished with a kind of day of judgment,
in which the people of God were saved, and his enemies
terribly destroyed. — Thus does he who was so lately
mocked, despised, and spit upon by these Jews, and whose
followers they so malignantly persecuted, appear glori
ously exalted over his enemies.

PAET II.
THE SUCCESS OF REDEMPTION FROM THE DESTRUCTION
OF JERUSALEM, TO THE TIME OF CONSTANTINE.
Jerusalem was destroyed about the year of our Lord
sixty-eight, and so before that generation passed away
which was contemporary with Christ. The destruction of

Part II.

TO THE TIME OF CONSTANTINE.

591

the heathen empire under Constantine, was about two
hundred and sixty years after this. In showing how the
success of the gospel was carried on through this time, I
would, 1. Take notice of the opposition made against it
by the Roman empire. 2. How the work of the gospel
went on notwithstanding all that opposition. 3. Ihe
peculiar circumstances of tribulation and distress that the
church was in just before their deliverance by Constan
tine ; and 4. The great revolution in Constantine's time.
I. I would briefly show what opposition was made
against the gospel, and the kingdom of Christ, by the Ro
man empire. This opposition was mainly after the de
struction of Jerusalem, though it began before ; but that
which was before the destruction of Jerusalem, was mainly
by the Jews. When Jerusalem was destroyed, the Jews
were much incapacitated for troubling the church ; there
fore the devil turns his hand elsewhere, and uses other in
struments. The opposition whicb was made in the Roman
empire against the kingdom of Christ was chiefly of two
kinds. 1. They employed all their learning, philosophy, and
wit, in opposing it. Christ came into the world in an age
wherein learning and philosophy were at their height in the
Roman empire. The gospel, which held forth a crucified
Saviour, was not at all agreeable to the notions of the
philosophers. — The christian scheme of trusting in such a
crucified Redeemer, appeared foolish and ridiculous to
them. Greece was a country the most famous for learning
of any in the Roman empire ; but the apostle observes,
that the doctrine of Christ crucified appeared foolishness
to the Greeks, 1 Cor. i. 23. and therefore the wise men and
philosophers opposed the gospel with all the wit they had.
We have a specimen of their manner of opposing, in their
treatment of the apostle Paul at Athens, which was, and
had been for many ages, the chief seat of philosophers in
all the whole world. We read in Acts xvii. 18. that the
philosophers of the Epicureans and Stoics encountered
him, saying, " What will this babbler say ? He seemeth to
be a setter forth of strange gods." Thus they were wont to
deride and ridicule Christianity ; and, after the destruction
of Jerusalem, several philosophers published books against
it. The chief of these were Celsus and Porphyry, who
wrote with a great deal of virulence and contempt, much
after the manner of the deists of the present age. As great
enemies and despisers as they were of the Christian reli
gion, they never denied the facts recorded of Christ and his
apostles in the New Testament, particularly the miracles
which they wrought, but allowed them. They lived too
near the , times of these miracles to deny them ; for they
were so publicly done, and so lately, that neither Jews nor
heathens in those days appeared to deny them ; but they
ascribed them to the power of magic.
2. The authority of the Roman empire employed all
their strength, time after time, to persecute, and if possible
to root out, Christianity. This they did in ten general suc
cessive persecutions. We have heretofore observed that
Christ came into the world when the strength of heathen
dominion and authority was the greatest under the Roman
monarchy. All the strength of this monarchy was em
ployed for a long time to oppose and persecute the chris
tian church, and if possible to destroy it, in ten successive
attempts, which are called the ten heathen persecutions.
The first of these, which was the persecution under
Nero, was a little before the destruction of Jerusalem, in
which the apostle Peter was crucified, and the apostle Paul
beheaded, soon after he wrote his second epistle to Ti
mothy. When he wrote that epistle, he was a prisoner at
Rome under Nero, and says, chap. iv. 6, 7. " I am now
ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at
hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my
course, I have kept the faith." There were many thou
sands of other Christians slain in that persecution.— The
other nine persecutions were all after the destruction of
Jerusalem. Some of these were very terrible indeed, and
far exceeded the first persecution under Nero. One em
peror after another set himself with the utmost rage to root
out the christian church from the earth, that there should
not be so much as the name of Christian left in the world.
Thousands, yea millions, were put to cruel deaths in them ;
for they spared neither sex nor age.

In the second general persecution, (under Domitian,) that
which was next after the destruction of Jerusalem, the
apostle John was banished to the isle of Patmos, where he
had those visions which he has recorded in the Revelation.
Under that persecution it was reckoned, that about forty
thousand suffered martyrdom ; which yet was nothing to
what were put to death under some succeeding persecu
tions. Ten thousand suffered that one kind of cruel death,
crucifixion, in the third persecution under the emperor
Adrian. Under the fourth persecution, which began about
the year of Christ one hundred and sixty-two, many suf
fered martyrdom in England, the land of our forefathers,
where Christianity had been planted, it is supposed, in the
days of the apostles. And in the later persecutions, the
Roman emperors being vexed at the frustration of their
predecessors, who were not able to extirpate Christianity,
or hinder its progress, were enraged to be the more violent
in their attempts.
Thus a great part of the first three hundred years after
Christ was spent in violent and cruel persecutions of the
church by the Roman powers. Satan was very unwilling
to quit his hold of so great and distinguished a part of the
world, as the countries contained in the Roman empire, of
which he had had the quiet possession for so many ages.;
and therefore, when he' saw it going so fast out of his
hands, he bestirred himself to his utmost. All hell was
raised to oppose it with its utmost power.
Satan thus exerting himself by the power of the heathen
Roman empire, is called the great red dragon, having seven
heads and ten horns, fighting against the woman clothed
with the sun. (Rev. xii.) And this terrible conflict between
the church of Christ, and the powers of the heathen em
pire before Constantine, is represented (verse 7) by the war
between Michael and his angels, and the dragon and his
angels : " And there was war in heaven ; Michael and his
angels fought, and the dragon fought and his angels."
II. I would take notice what success the gospel had in
the world before the time of Constantine, notwithstanding
all this opposition. — Though the learning and power of the
Roman empire were so great, and both were employed to
the utmost against Christianity ; yet all was in vain. They
could neither root it out, nor stop its progress. In spite of
all, the kingdom of Christ wonderfully prevailed, and
Satan's heathen kingdom mouldered and consumed away
before it, agreeable to the text, " The moth shall eat them
up like a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool."
And it was very observable that, for the most part, the more
they persecuted the church, the more it increased ; inso
much that it became a common saying, The blood of tbe
martyrs is the seed of the church. — Herein the church of
Christ proved to be like a palm-tree ; of which it is re
marked, that the greater weight is hung to its branches, the
more it grows and flourishesi On this account probably
the church is compared to a palm-tree, Cant. vii. 7. " This
thy stature is like to a palm-tree." Justin Martyr, an
eminent father in the christian church, says, that in his days
there was no part of mankind, whether Greeks or barbari
ans, or by what name soever they were called, even the
most rude and unpolished nations, where prayers and
thanksgivings were not made to the great Creator of the
world, through the name of the crucified Jesus. Ter-
tullian, another eminent father in the christian church,
who lived in the beginning of the following age, testifies,
that in his days the" christian religion had extended itself
to the utmost bounds of tbe then known world, in which
he reckons Britain ; and thence demonstrates, that the
kingdom of Christ was then more extensive than any of
the four great monarchies. He moreover says, that though
the Christians were strangers of no long standing, yet they
had filled all places of the Roman dominions, their cities,
islands, castles, corporations, councils, armies, tribes, the
palace, senate, and courts of judicature ; only they had
left to the heathen their temples. He adds, that if they
should all agree to retire out of the Roman empire, the
world would be amazed at the solitude and desolation
that would ensue upon it, there would be so few left ;
and that the Christians were enough to be able easily to
defend themselves, if they were disposed to rise up in arms
against the heathen magistrates. — And Pliny, a heathen
who lived in those days, says, that multitudes, of each

592

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

sex, of every age and quality, were become Christians.
This superstition, says he, having infected and overrun
not the city only, but towns and countries, the temples
and sacrifices are generally desolate and forsaken.
And it was remarked by both heathen and christian
writers in those days, that the famous heathen oracles in
their temples— where princes and others for many past
ages had been wont to inquire and receive answers with
an audible voice from their gods, which were indeed
answers from the devil— were now struck dumb, and gave
no more answers : and particularly the oracle at Delpnos,
the most famous in the whole world, which both Greeks
and Romans used to consult, began to cease to give any
answers, even from the birth of Christ. The false deity
who was worshipped, and who used to give answers from
his oracle in that temple, being once inquired of, why he
did not now give answers as he was wont to do ? made
this reply, (as several heathen historians who lived about
those times relate,) There is a Hebrew boy, who is king
of the gods, who has commanded me to leave this house,
and begone to hell, and therefore you are to expect no
more answers. And many heathen writers who lived
about that time, speak much of the oracles being silenced,
at which they wondered, not knowing what the cause
should be. Plutarch wrote a particular treatise about it,
which is still extant. And Porphyry, who opposed the chris
tian religion, has these words, " It is no wonder if the
city for these many years has been overrun with sickness ;
Esculapius, and the rest of the gods, having withdrawn
their converse with men : for since Jesus began to be
worshipped, no man has received any public help or be
nefit by the gods." Thus did the kingdom of Christ pre
vail against the kingdom of Satan.
III. I now proceed to take notice of the peculiar
circumstances of tribulation and distress just before Con
stantine the Great came to the throne. This distress they
suffered under the tenth heathen persecution, which, as
it was the last, so it was by far the heaviest and most
severe. The church before this, after the ceasing of the
ninth persecution, had enjoyed a time of quietness for
about forty years together ; but abusing their liberty, they
began to grow cold and lifeless in religion, and conten
tions prevailed among them ; by which they offended
God to suffer this dreadful trial to come upon them. And
Satan having lost ground so much, notwithstanding all his
attempts, now seemed to bestir himself with more than or
dinary rage. Those who were then in authority set them
selves with the utmost violence to root out Christianity, by
burning all Bibles, and destroying all Christians ; and
therefore they did not stand to try or convict them in a
formal process, but fell upon them wherever they could.
Sometimes they set fire to houses where multitudes were
assembled, burning them altogether ; at other times they
slaughtered such multitudes that their persecutors were
quite spent with the labour of killing and tormenting
them ; and in some populous places, so many were slain
together, that the blood ran like torrents. It is related,
that seventeen thousand martyrs were slain in one month's
time ; and that during the continuance of this persecution,
in the province of Egypt alone, no less than one hundred
and forty-four thousand Christians died by the violence of
their persecutors, besides seven hundred thousand that
died through the fatigues of banishment, or the public
works to which they were condemned.
This persecution lasted for ten years together, and as it
exceeded all the foregoing persecutions, in the number of
martyrs, so it exceeded them in the variety and multitude
of inventions of torture and cruelty. Some authors who
lived at that time, say, they were innumerable, and ex
ceed all account and expression. This persecution in
particular was very severe in England ,- and is that which
was foretold in Rev. vi. 9, 10. " And when he had opened
the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that
were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony
which they held. And they cried with a loud voice, say
ing, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge
and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth ?"
And at the end of the ten years, during which this perse
cution continued, the heathen persecutors thought they had
finished their work, and boasted that they had utterly

destroyed the name and superstition of the Christians,
and had restored and propagated the worship of the gods.
Thus it was the darkest time with the christian church,
just before the break of day. They were brought to the
greatest extremity before God appeared for their glorious
deliverance, as the bondage of the Israelites in Egypt was
the most severe and cruel just before their deliverance by
the hand of Moses. Their enemies thought they had
swallowed them up, and sealed their destruction, as
Pharaoh and his host thought when they had hemmed in
the children of Israel at the Red sea.
IV. I come now, in the fourth place, to the great revo
lution by Constantine, which was in many respects like
Christ's appearing in the clouds of heaven to save his
people, and judge the world. The people of Rome be
ing weary of the government of those tyrants to whom
they had lately been subject, sent to Constantine, who was
then in the city of York in England, to come and take the
throne. He was encouraged, it is said, by a vision of a
pillar of light in the heavens, in the form of a cross, in the
sight of his whole army, with this inscription, e» to.™ v.™,
In this overcome ; and the night following, by Christ's
appearing to him in a dream with the same cross in his
hand, who directed him to make a cross like that to be his
royal standard, that his army might fight under that ban
ner, and assured him that he should overcome. Accord
ingly he overcame his enemies, took possession of the
imperial throne, embraced the christian religion, and was
the first christian emperor that ever reigned. He came
to the throne about three hundred and twenty years after
Christ. There are several things which I would take
notice of which attended, or immediately followed, Con
stantine's coming to the throne.
1. The christian church was thereby wholly delivered
from persecution. Now the day of her deliverance came
after such => dark night of affliction : weeping had con
tinued for a night, but now deliverance and joy came in
the morning. Now God appeared to judge his people,
and repented himself for his servants, when he saw their
power was gone, and that there was none shut up or left.
Christians had no persecutions now to fear. Their per
secutors now were all put down, and their rulers were
some of them Christians like themselves.
2. God now appeared to execute terrible judgments on
their enemies. Remarkable are the accounts which his
tory gives of the fearful ends to which the heathen em
perors, princes, generals, captains, and other great men
were brought, who had exerted themselves in persecuting
the Christians ; dying miserably, one after another; under
exquisite torments of body, and horrors of conscience, with
a most visible hand of God upon them. So that what
now came to pass might very fitly be compared to their
hiding themselves in the dens and rocks of the mountains.
3. Heathenism now was in a great measure abolished
throughout the Roman empire. Images were now de
stroyed, and heathen temples pulled down. Images of
gold and silver were melted down, and coined into money.
Some of the chief of their idols, which were curiously
wrought, were brought to Constantinople, and there
drawn with ropes up and down the streets for the people
to behold and laugh at. The heathen priests were dis
persed and banished.
4. The christian church was brought into a state of
great peace and prosperity. Now all heathen magistrates
were put down, and only Christians were advanced to
places of authority all over the empire. They had now
christian presidents, christian governors, christian judges
and officers, instead of their oid heathenish ones. Con
stantine set himself to put honour upon christian bishops
or ministers, and to build and adorn churches ; and now
large and beautiful christian churches were erected in all
parts of the world, instead of the old heathen temples.
This revolution was the greatest change in the face of
things that ever came to pass in the world since the flood.
— Satan, the prince of darkness, that king and god of the
heathen world, was cast out. The roaring liorrwas con
quered by the Lamb of God, in the strongest dominion
that he ever had. This was a remarkable accomplishment
of Jer. x. 11. " The gods that have not made the heavens
and the earth, even they shall perish from the earth, and

Part II.

TO THE TIME OF CONSTANTINE.

593

from under these heavens."— The chief part of the world
was now brought utterly to cast off their gods and their
old religion, to which they had been accustomed much
longer than any of their histories give an account of.
They had been accustomed to worship the gods so long,
that they knew not any beginning of it. It was formerly
spoken of as a thing unknown for a nation to change their
gods, Jer. ii. 10, 11. but now tbe greater part of the na
tions of the known world were brought to cast off all their
former gods. That multitude of gods which they wor
shipped, were all forsaken. Thousands of them were cast
away for the worship of the true God, and Christ the only
Saviour : and there was a most remarkable fulfilment of
Isa. ii. 17, 18. " And the loftiness of man shall be bowed
down, and the haughtiness of men shall be made low ;
and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day. And the
idols he shall utterly abolish." And since that, those gods
which were once so famous in the world, as Jupiter, and
Satum, and Minerva, and Juno, &c. are only heard of as
things of old. They have had no temples, no altars, no
worshippers, for many hundred years.
Now is come the end of the old heathen world in its
fuincipal part, the Roman empire. And this great revo-
ution, with that terrible destruction of the great men who
had been persecutors, is compared, (Rev. vi.) to the end-
of the world, and Christ coming to judgment ; and is most
immediately signified under the sixth seal, which followed
upon the souls under the altar crying, How long, O Lord,
holy and true, dost thou not avenge our blood on them
that dwell on the earth ? This vision of the sixth seal, by
the general consent of expositors, has respect to this down
fall of the heathen Roman empire ; though it has a more
remote respect to the day of judgment of which this was
a type. The day of judgment cannot be what is immedi
ately intended ; because we have an account of many events
which were to come to pass after those of the sixth seal.
What came to pass now is also represented by the devil's
being cast out of heaven to the earth. In his great strength
and glory, over that mighty Roman empire, he had exalted
his throne up to heaven. But now he fell like lightning
from heaven, and his kingdom was confined to the meaner
and more barbarous nations, or to the lower parts of the
world. This is the event foretold, Rev. xii. 9, &c. " And
the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the
devil and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world : he was
cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with
him," &c. Satan had formerly tempted Christ, and pro
mised to give him the glory of the kingdoms of the world ;
but now he is obliged to give it to him even against his
will. This was a glorious fulfilment of that promise which
God made to his Son, Isa. liii. 12. " Therefore will I di
vide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the
spoil with the strong ; because he hath poured out his
soul unto death : and he was numbered with the trans
gressors, and he bare the sin of many, and made interces
sion for the transgressors." This was a great fulfilment of
prophecies concerning the glorious time of the gospel, and
particularly those of Daniel. Now it pleased the Lord
God of heaven to set up a kingdom on the ruins of Satan's
kingdom ; and such honour does the Father put upon
Christ for the disgrace he suffered when on earth.
From what has been said of the success of the gospel
from Christ's ascension to the time of Constantine, we may
deduce a strong argument for the truth of the christian re
ligion, and that the gospel of Jesus Christ is really from
God. Particularly,
1. We may gather from what has been said, that it is
the gospel, and that only, which has actually been the
means of bringing the world to the knowledge of the true
God. That those are no gods whom the heathen worship
ped, and that there is but one only God, is what, now since
the gospel has so taught us, we can see to be truth by our
own reason. It is plainly agreeable to the light of nature ;
and it can be easily shown by reason to be demonstrably
true. The very deists themselves acknowledge, that it can
be demonstrated, that there is one God, and but one, who
has made and governs the world. But now it is evident
that it is the gospel, and that only, which has actually
been the means of bringing men to the knowledge of this
truth. It was not the instructions of philosophers; they
vol. i. 2 Q

tried in vain : The world by wisdom knew not God. Till
the gospel and the Holy Scriptures came abroad, all the
world lay m ignorance of the true God, and in the greatest
darkness with respect to religion, embracing the absurdest
opinions and practices, which all civilized nations now ac
knowledge to be childish fooleries. The light of nature,
their own reason, and all the wisdom .of learned men, sig
nified nothing till the Scriptures came. But when these
came abroad, they were successful to bring the world to an
acknowledgment of the one only true God, and to worship
and serve him.
And hence it is, that all that part of the world which now
acknowledges one only true God— Christians, Jews, Ma
hometans, and even deists — originally came to own him.
It is owing to this that they are not in general at this day
left in heathenish darkness. They have it all, either imme
diately from the Scriptures, or by tradition from their
fathers, who had it first from the Scriptures. And doubt
less those who now despise the Scriptures, and boast of
the strength of their own reason, as being sufficient to lead
into the knowledge of the one true God, if the gospel had
never come abroad in the world to enlighten their fore
fathers, would have been as sottish and brutish idolaters
as the world in general was before the gospel came abroad.
The Mahometans, who own but one true God, at first bor
rowed the notion from the Scriptures : for the first Maho
metans had been educated in the christian religion, and
apostatized from it. And this is evident, that the Scrip
tures were designed of God to be the proper means to
bring the world to the knowledge of himself, rather than
human reason, or any thing else. For it is unreasonable
to suppose, that the gospel, and that only which God never
designed as the proper mean for obtaining this effect,
should actually obtain it ; and that after human reason,
which he designed as the proper mean, had been tried for a
great many ages without any effect. If the Scriptures be
not the word of God, then they are nothing but darkness
and delusion, yea, the greatest delusion that ever was.
Now, is it reasonable to suppose, that God in his pro
vidence would make use of falsehood and delusion, to
bring the world to the knowledge of himself, and that no
part of it should be brought to the knowledge of him any
other way ?
2. The gospel prevailing as it did against such power
ful opposition, plainly shows the hand of God. The Ro
man government, that so violently set itself to hinder the
success of the gospel, and to subdue the church of Christ,
was the most powerful that ever was in the world ; and
not only so, but they seemed to have the church in their
hands. The Christians who were under their command,
never took up arms to defend themselves; they armed
themselves with nothing but patience, and such like spi
ritual weapons : and yet this mighty power could not con
quer, but, on the contrary, Christianity conquered them.
The Roman empire had subdued many'mighty and potent
kingdoms ; they subdued the Grecian monarchy, though
it made the utmost resistance : and ,-yet they could not
conquer the church which was in their hands ; but, on the
contrary, were subdued and finally triumphed over by the
church. 3. No other sufficient cause can possibly be assigned for
this propagation ofthe gospel, but only God's own power.
— There was certainly some reason. Here was a great and
wonderful effect; and this effect was not without some
cause. — Now, what other cause can be devised but' only
the divine power ? It was not the outward strength of
the instruments which were employed in it. At first, the
gospel was preached only by a few fishermen, who were
without power and worldly interest to support them. It
was not their craft and policy that produced this won
derful effect; for they were poor illiterate men. It was
not the agreeableness of the story they had to tell to
the notions and principles of mankind. This was no
?leasant fable : a crucified God and Saviour was to the
ews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness. It
was not the agreeableness of their doctrines to the disposi
tions of men : for nothing is more contrary (o the cor
ruptions of men than the pure doctrines of the gospel.
This effect therefore can have proceeded from no other
cause than the power and agency of God': and if the

594

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

power of God was thus exercised to cause the gospel to
prevail, then the gospel is his word ; for surely God does
not use his almighty power to promote a mere imposture
and delusion.
4. This success is agreeable to what Christ and his
apostles foretold.  Matt. xvi. 18. " Upon this rock will
I build my church : and the gates of hell shall not prevail
against it." John xii. 24. " Verily, verily, I say unto you,
Except a com of wheat fall into the ground, and die, it
abideth alone : but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit."
And ver. 31, 32. " Now is the judgment of this world :
now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I
be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me."
John xvi. 8. " When he (the Comforter; is come, he will
reprove the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judg
ment, — because the prince of this world is judged."
So the apostle Paul, in 1 Cor. chap. i. 21—28. declares,
how that after the world by wisdom knew not God, it
pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching, to save them
that believe ; and that God chose the foolish things of the
world to confound the wise ; and weak things of the
world, to confound the things which are mighty ; and base
things of the world, and things which are despised, yea
and things which are not, to bring to nought things that
are.  If any man foretells a thing, very likely in itself to
come to pass, from causes which can be foreseen, it is no
great argument of a revelation from God : but when a
thing is foretold which is very unlikely ever to come to
pass, is entirely contrary to the common course of things,
and yet it does come to pass just agreeable to the predic
tion, this is a strong argument that the prediction was
from God. Thus the consideration of the manner of the
propagation and success of the gospel during the time
which has been spoken of, affords great evidence that the
Scriptures are the word of God.

PART III.
THE SUCCESS OF REDEMPTION FROM THE TIME OF CON
STANTINE TO THE RISE OF ANTICHRIST.
I am now to show how the success of Christ's redemp
tion is carried on from the overthrow of the heathen
Roman empire in the time of Constantine the Great, till
the rise of Antichrist. And in order to a more clear view
of the great works of God in accomplishing the success
of Christ's redemption, and our seeing the glory of them,
it will be necessary, as in the foregoing periods, to con
sider not only the success itself, but the opposition made
to it.
I. The opposition. Satan, the great red dragon, after so
sore a conflict with Michael and his angels for the greater
part of three hundred years, was at last entirely routed and
vanquished ; so that he was cast down, as it were, from
heaven to the earth. Yet he does not give over his opposi
tion to the woman, the church of Christ, concerning
which all this conflict had been ; but is still in a rage, re
news his attempts, and has recourse to new devices against
the church. The serpent, after he is cast out of heaven to
• the earth, casts out of his mouth water as a flood, to cause
the woman to be carried away of the flood. The opposi
tion that he made to the church of Christ before the rise
of Antichrist, was principally of two sorts. It was either
by corrupting the church of Christ with heresies, or by
new endeavours to restore paganism.
1 . After the destruction of the heathen Roman empire,
Satan infested the church with heresies. Though there had
been so glorious a work of God in delivering the church
from her heathen persecutors, and overthrowing the heathen
empire; yet the days of the church's travail not being
ended, and the set time of her prosperity not being yet
come, (as being what was to succeed the fail of Antichrist,)
therefore the peace and prosperity which the church en
joyed in Constantine's time, was but very short. It was
a respite, which gave the church a time of peace and
silence, as it were, for half an hour, wherein the four

angels held the four winds from blowing till the servants of
God should be sealed in their foreheads. But the church
soon began to be greatly infested with heresies ; the two
principal, and those which did most infest the church,
were the Arian and Pelagian.
The Arians began soon after Constantine came to the
throne. They denied the doctrine of the Trinity, the
divinity of Christ and the Holy Ghost, and maintained,
that they were but mere creatures. This heresy increased
more and more in the church, and prevailed like a flood
which threatened to overthrow all, and entirely to carry away
the church, insomuch that before the close of the fourth
century, the greater part of the christian church were be
come Arians. Some emperors, the successors of Constan
tine, were Arians ; so that being the prevailing party, and
having the civil authority on their side, they raised a great
persecution against the true church of Christ ; so that this
heresy might well be compared to a flood out of the mouth
of the serpent, which threatened to overthrow all, and
quite carry away the woman.
The Pelagian heresy arose in the beginning of the next
century. It began by one Pelagius, who was bom in
Britain : his British name was Morgan. He denied original
sin and the influence of the Spirit of God in conversion,
and held the power of free will, and many other things of
like tendency; and this heresy did for a while greatly
infest the church. Pelagius's principal antagonist, who
wrote in defence of the orthodox faith, was St. Augustin.
2. The other kind of opposition which Satan made
against the church, was in his endeavours to restore
paganism. His first attempt was by Julian the apostate:
Julian was nephew to Constantine the Great. When
Constantine died, lie left his empire to three sons ; and
after their death, Julian the apostate reigned in their stead.
He had been a professed Christian; but he fell from
Christianity, and turned pagan; and therefore is called
the apostate. When he came to the throne, he used his
utmost endeavours to overthrow the christian church, and
set up paganism again in the empire. He put down the
christian magistrates, and set up heathens in their room.
He rebuilt the heathen temples, set up the heathen wor
ship, and became a most notorious persecutor of the Chris
tians. He used to call Christ, by way of reproach, the
Galilean. He was killed with a lance in his wars with
the Persians. When he saw that he was mortally wounded,
he took a handful of his blood, and threw it up towards
heaven, crying out, " Thou hast overcome, O Galilean."
He is commonly thought by divines to have committed
the unpardonable sin.
Another way that Satan attempted to restore paganism
in the Roman empire, was by the invasions and conquest qf
heathen nations. For in this space of time, the Goths and
Vandals, and other barbarous nations from the north, in
vaded the empire, and obtained great conquests. They
even overran the empire, and in the fifth century took the
city of Rome, and finally conquered and took possession
of the western half of the empire, and divided it amongst
them. It was divided into ten kingdoms, with which
began the ten horns of the beast ; for we are told, that the
ten horns are ten kings, who should rise in the latter part
of the Roman empire : these are also represented by the
ten toes of Nebuchadnezzar's image. The invasion and
conquests of these heathen nations are supposed to be fore*
told in the 8th chapter of Revelation, in what came to pass
under the sounding of the four first trumpets. Now by
their means heathenism was again for a while restored after
it had been rooted out. — So much for the opposition of
Satan against the success of the gospel during this space
before the rise of Antichrist. I proceed,
II. To show what success there was of the gospel in this
space, notwithstanding this opposition.
1. I would observe, that the opposition of Satan in
those things was baffled. Though the dragon cast out of
his mouth such a flood after the woman to carry her away,
yet he could not obtain his design ; but the earth helped
the woman, and opened her mouth, and swallowed up the
flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth. These
heresies, which for a while so much prevailed, after a while
dwindled away, and orthodoxy was again restored.
2. The gospel, during this space of time, was further

Part IV.

TO THE REFORMATION.

595

propagated amongst many barbarous nations in the con
fines of the Roman empire. In the time of Constantine
there was a considerable propagation of the gospel in the
East Indies, chiefly by the ministry of one Frumentius.
Great numbers of the Iberians were converted to Chris
tianity by a christian woman of eminent piety, whom they
had taken captive. And some account is given of several
other barbarous nations who were not within the Roman
empire, that great numbers of them wer,e brought to re
ceive the gospel by the teaching and example of captives
whom they had taken in war. About the year of Christ
three hundred and seventy-two, the gospel was propagated
among the barbarous inhabitants of Arabia ; and among
some of the northern nations ; particularly, a prince of the
Goths about this time became Christian, and a great num
ber of his people with him. Towards the latter end of this
century, the gospel was also further propagated among the
Persians ; and also the Scythians, a barbarous people,
whom the apostle mentions, Col. iii. 11. " Barbarian,
Scythian, bond nor free."
And after this, about the year four hundred and thirty,
there was a remarkable conversion of the Burgundians to
the christian faith. Now the gospel began to be propa
gated in Ireland ; and the Irish, who till now had been
heathen, began to receive the christian faith. About the
same time it was further propagated among some bar
barous people in Scotland, and in some other places. In
the next century, Zathus, a heathen king, who ruled over
the Colchians, was brought to renounce his heathenism,
and to embrace the christian religion. Several other bar
barous nations are recorded to have renounced heathenism
and embraced Christianity about this time, that I cannot
stand to mention. — Thus I have briefly considered the
principal events of Providence which concern the success
of the gospel of Christ from Constantine to the rise of
Antichrist.

PART IV.
THE SUCCESS OF REDEMPTION FROM THE RISE OF ANTI
CHRIST TO THE REFORMATION.
I come now to the darkest and most dismal day that
ever the christian church saw, and probably the darkest
that ever it will see ; from the rise of Antichrist till the
Reformation by Luther and others. The true church in
this space was for many hundred years in a state of great
obscurity ; like the woman in the wilderness, she was al
most hid from sight and observation. In speaking of the
events of this space of time, I would, 1. Take notice ofthe
great machinations and works of Satan against the king
dom of Christ ; 2. How the church of Christ was upheld
during this time.
I. I would take notice of the great machinations and
works of Satan against the kingdom of Christ during this
time. Satan had done great things against the christian
church before, but had been baffled once and again.
Michael and his angels had obtained a glorious victory.
How terrible was his opposition during the continuance of
the heathen empire ; and how glorious was Christ's victory
and triumph over him in the time of Constantine! It
pleased God now to prepare the way for a yet more glorious
victory over him ; he is suffered to renew his strength, and
to do the utmost that his power and subtlety can effect.
He has a long time to lay his schemes, to establish his in
terest, and make his matters strong. God suffers him to
carry his designs a great length indeed, almost to the swal
lowing up of his church ; and to exercise a high, proud,
and almost uncontrolled dominion in the world, a long
time before Christ finally conquers, and utterly ruins his
visible kingdom. This he will do in the time of the de
struction of Antichrist : thus gloriously triumphing over
Satan, after he has done to the utmost of his power and
subtlety ; after he has lifted himself highest of all, and dealt
most proudly.
The two great works of the devil, in this space of time,
against the kingdom of Christ, are his creating his Anti-
2 q 2

christian and Mahometan kingdoms; which both together
comprehend the ancient Roman empire; the kingdom of
Antichrist the Western, and the Mahometan kingdom the
Eastern, empire. As the Scriptures in the book of Revela
tion represent it, it is in the destruction of these that the
glorious victory of Christ, at the introduction of the glo
rious times of the church, will mainly consist. And here
let us briefly observe how Satan erects and maintains these
two great kingdoms of his in opposition to the kingdom of
Christ. 1. With respect to the kingdom of Antichrist. This
seems to be the masterpiece of all the contrivances of the
devil against the kingdom of Christ, and is evidently so
spoken of in Scripture. Antichrist is that man of sin, (2
Thess. ii. 3.) emphatically, as though he were so eminently.
He is called Antichrist, which signifies the opponent or
adversary of Christ, not because he is the only opponent
of Christ ; for the apostle John observes, that in his days
there were many Antichrists. But yet this is called the
Antichrist, as though there were none but he, because he
was so eminently, and above all others. So this contriv
ance of the devil, is called the mystery of iniquity, 2 Thess.
ii. 7. We find no enemy of Christ one half so much
spoken of in the prophecies of Revelation as this ; and tbe
destruction of no enemy is spoken of as so glorious, and
so happy for the church.
This is a contrivance to turn the ministry of the christian
church into a ministry of the devil, and the angels of the
churches into fallen angels. In the tyranny, superstition,
idolatry, and persecution, which he sets up, he contrives to
make an image of ancient paganism, and more than to
restore what was lost by the overthrow of paganism in the
time of Constantine. By these means, the head of the
beast, which was wounded unto death in Constantine, has
his deadly wound healed in Antichrist, Rev. xiii. 3. And
the dragon, that formerly reigned in the heathen Roman
empire, being cast out thence, after the beast with seven
heads and ten horns rises up out of the sea, gives him his
power, and seat, and great authority ; and all the world
wonders after the beast.
I am far from pretending to determine the time when
the reign of Antichrist began, which is a point that has been
so much controverted among divines and expositors. It is
certain that the twelve hundred and sixty days, or years,
which are so often in Scripture mentioned as the time of
the continuance of Antichrist's reign, did not commence
before the year of Christ four hundred and seventy-nine ;
because if they did, they would have ended, and Anti
christ would have fallen before now. Tbe rise of Anti
christ was gradual. The christian church corrupted itself
in many things presently after Coustantine's time ; grow
ing more and more superstitious in its worship, and by de
grees bringing in many ceremonies into the worship of
God, till at length they brought in the worship of saints,
and set up images in their churches. The clergy in general,
and especially the bishop of Rome, assumed more and
more authority to himself. In the primitive times, he was
only a minister of a congregation ; then a standing mode
rator of a presbytery ; then a diocesan bishop ; then a me
tropolitan, which is equivalent to an archbishop ; then a
patriarch. Afterwards he claimed the power of universal
bishop over the whole christian church ; wherein he was
opposed for a while, but afterwards was confirmed in it by
the civil power of the emperor in the year six hundred and
six. After that he claimed the power of a temporal prince,
and so was wont to carry two swords, to signify that both
the temporal and spiritual sword was his. He claimed
more and more authority, till at length, as Christ's vice
gerent on earth, he claimed the very same power that Christ
would have done, if he was present on earth reigning on
his throne ; or the same power that belongs to God, and
was used to be called God on earth ; to be submitted to by
all the princes of Christendom. He claimed power to
crown princes, and to degrade them at his pleasure ; and
this power was owned : yea, kings and emperors used to
kiss his feet. The emperors received their crowns at his
hands ; and princes were wont to dread the displeasure oi
the pope, as they would dread a thunderbolt from heaven.
If the pope was pleased to excommunicate a prince, all
his subjects were at once freed from their allegiance to

596

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

him ; and obliged not to own him any more, on pain of
excommunication ; and not only so, but any man might
kill him wherever he found him. Further, the pope was
believed to have power to damn men at pleasure ; for
whoever died under his excommunication, was looked
upon as certainly damned. Several emperors were ac
tually deposed, and ejected, and died miserably by his
means ; and if the people of any state or kingdom did not
please him, he had power to lay that state or kingdom
under an interdict, which was a sentence pronounced by
the pope against that state or kingdom, whereby all sacred
administrations among them could have no validity. There
could be no valid baptisms, or sacraments, or prayers, or
preaching, or pardons, till that interdict was taken off; so
that that people remained, in their apprehension, in a mi
serable, damnable state, and therefore dreaded it as they
would a storm of fire and brimstone from heaven. And
in order to execute his wrath on a prince or people with
whom he was displeased, other princes must also be put
to a great deal of trouble and expense.
And as the pope and his clergy robbed the people of
their ecclesiastical and civil liberties and privileges, so
they also robbed them of their estates, drained all Christen
dom of their money. They engrossed most of their riches
into their own coffers, by vast revenues, besides pay for
pardons and indulgences, baptisms and extreme unctions,
deliverance out of purgatory, and a hundred other things.
— See how well this agrees with the prophecies, 2 Thess.
ii. 3, 4. Dan. vii. 20, 21. Rev. xiii. 6, 7. and chap. xvii.
3'4- . . .
During this time also superstition and ignorance more
and more prevailed. The Holy Scriptures by degrees were
taken out of the hands of the laity, the better to promote
the unscriptural and wicked designs of the pope and the
clergy ; and instead of promoting knowledge among the
people, they industriously promoted ignorance. It was a
received maxim among triem, That ignorance is the mother
of devotion : and so great was the darkness of those times,
that learning was almost, extinct in the world. The very
priests themselves, most of them, were barbarously igno
rant as to any commendable learning, or any other know
ledge, than their hellish craft in oppressing and tyrannizing
over the souls of the people. — The superstition and wicked
ness of the church of Rome, kept growing worse and worse
till the very time of the Reformation, and the whole chris
tian world were led away into this great defection, except
ing the remains of the christian church in the Eastern em
pire that had not been utterly overthrown by the Turks.
The Greek church, and some others, were also sunk into
great darkness and gross superstition, excepting also those
few that were the people of God, who are represented by
the woman in the wilderness, and God's two witnesses, of
which more hereafter. — This is one of those two great
kingdoms which the devil in this period erected in oppo
sition to the kingdom of Christ, and was the greatest and
chief. 2. The Mahometan kingdom is another of migbly power
and vast extent, set up by Satan against the kingdom of
Christ. He set this up in the Eastern empire, as he did
that of Antichrist in the Western.
Mahomet was born in the year of Christ five hundred
and seventy, in Arabia. When he was about forty years
of age, he began to boast that he was the great prophet of
God ; and proceeded to teach his new-invented religion,
of .which he was to be worshipped as the head next under
God. He published his Alcoran, wbich he pretended he
received from the angel Gabriel ; and being a subtle crafty
man, possessed of considerable wealth, and living among a
people who were very ignorant, and greatly divided in
their opinions on religious matters, he by subtlety and fair
promises of a sensual paradise, gained a number to be his
followers. He set up for their prince, and propagated his
religion by the sword, and made it meritorious of paradise
to fight for him. By such means his party grew, and
went on fighting till they conquered and brought over the
neighbouring countries ; and so his party gradually in
creased till they overran a great part ofthe world. First,
the Saracens were some of his followers, who were a peo
ple of Arabia, where Mahomet lived, and who about the
year seven hundred, dreadfully wasted the Roman em

pire. — They overran a great many countries belonging to
the empire, and continued their conquests for a long time.
These are supposed to be meant by the locusts mentioned
in the 9th chapter of Revelation.
And then the Turks, who were originally different from
the Saracens, became followers of Mahomet, and conquer
ed all the Eastern empire. They began their empire about
the year of Christ twelve hundred and ninety-six ; began
to invade Europe in the year thirteen hundred ; took Con
stantinople, and so became masters of all the Eastern em
pire, in the year fourteen hundred and fifty-three. And
thus all the cities and countries where stood those famous
churches of which we read in the New Testament, as Jeru
salem, Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, &c. now became sub
ject to the Turks. These are supposed to be prophesied
of by the horsemen in the 9th chapter of Revelation, be
ginning with the 15th verse. And the remains of the
Christians in those parts of the world, who are mostly of
the Greek church, are in miserable slavery under these
Turks ; are treated with a great deal of barbarity and
cruelty, and are become mostly very ignorant and super
stitious. Thus I have shown what great works of Satan were
wrought during this space of time in opposition to the
kingdom of Christ.
II. I come now to show how the church of Christ was
upheld through this dark time.
1. It is to be observed, that towards the former part of
this space of time, some of the nations of Christendom held
out a long time before they complied with the corruptions
and usurpations of the church of Rome. Though all the
world wondered after the beast, yet all nations did not
fell in at once. Many of the principal corruptions ofthe
church of Rome were brought in with a great deal of
struggle and opposition ; and particularly, when the pope
gave out, that he was universal bishop, many churches
greatly opposed him in it ; and it was a long time before
they would yield to his exorbitant claims. And so, when
the worship of images was first brought into the churches,
there were many who greatly opposed it, and long held
out against it. And so with respect to other corruptions
of the church of Rome. Those who dwelt nearer to the
city of Rome complied sooner; but some that were
more remote, were a long time before they could be in
duced to put their necks under the yoke : and particularly
a great part of the churches in England, Scotland, and
France, retained the ancient purity of doctrine and worship
much longer than many others who were nearer the chief
seat of Antichrist.
2. In every age of this dark time, there appeared parti
cular persons in all parts of Christendom, who bore a testi
mony against the corruptions and tyranny of the church of
Rome — There is no one age of Antichrist, even in the
darkest times, but ecclesiastical historians mention many
by name who manifested an abhorrence of the pope, and
his idolatrous worship, and pleaded for the ancient purity
of doctrine and worship. God was pleased to maintain an
uninterrupted succession of many witnesses through the
whole time, in Germany, France, Britain, and other coun
tries ; private persons and ministers, some magistrates and
persons of great distinction. — And there were numbers in
every age who were persecuted and put to death for this
testimony. 3. Besides these particular persons dispersed, there was
a certain people called the Waldenses, who lived separate
from all the rest of the world, and constantly bore a testi
mony against the church of Rome through all this dark
time. The place where they dwelt was the Vaudois, or the
five valleys of Piedmont, a very mountainous country,
between Italy and France ; it was compassed about with
those exceeding high mountains, the Alps, which were
almost impassable, and therefore the valleys were almost
inaccessible. There this people lived for many ages, in a
state of a separation from all the world, having very little
to do with any other people. And there they served God
in the ancient purity of his worship, and never submitted
to the church of Rome. This probably was the place
especially meant in the 12th chapter of Revelation, 6th
verse, as preparedof God for the woman, that they should
feed her there during the reign of Antichrist.

Part V.

TO THE PRESENT TIME.

597

Some of the popish writers themselves own, that this
people never submitted to the church of Rome. One of
the popish writers, speaking of the Waldenses, says, The
heresy of the Waldenses is the oldest heresy in the world.
It is supposed that they first betook themselves to this
place among the mountains, to hide themselves from the
severity of the heathen persecutions which existed before
Constantine the Great. And thus the woman fled into the
wilderness from the face of the serpent, Rev. xii. 6, 14.
" And to the woman were given two wings of a great
eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness, into her
place : where she is nourished for a time, and times, and
half a time, from the face of the serpent." The people
being settled there, their posterity continued from age to
age : and being, as it were, by natural walls, as well as
by God's grace, separated from the rest of the world, they
never partook of the overflowing corruption.
These especially were those virgins who were not defiled,
when other churches prostituted themselves ; but they
kept themselves pure for Christ alone. They followed the
Lamb, their spiritual husband, whithersoever he went :
they followed him into this hideous wilderness, Rev. xiv.
4, 5.  Their doctrine and worship appear to be the same
with the protestant doctrine and worship ; and by the con
fession of popish writers, they were a people remarkable
for the strictness of their lives, for charity and other chris
tian virtues. They lived in external poverty in this hideous
country ; but they chose this rather than comply with the
great corruptions of the rest of the world.
Living in so secret a place, it was a long time before
they were noticed. But at last, falling under observation,
the Romanists went out in mighty armies against them,
fell upon them with insatiable cruelty, barbarously massa
cring and putting to death men, women, and children,
with all imaginable tortures. Their enemies continued
persecuting them with but little intermission for several
hundred years ; by which means many were driven out of
the valleys of Piedmont. These fled into all parts of
Europe, carrying with them their doctrine, to which many
were brought over. Their persecutors could not by all
their cruelties extirpate the church of God ; so fulfilling
his word, " that the gates of hell should not prevail
against it."
4. Towards the latter part of this dark time, several
noted divines openly appeared to defend the truth, and
bear testimony against the corruptions of the church of
Rome. — The first and principal of these was a certain
English divine, John Wickliff, who appeared about one
hundred and forty years before the Reformation ; he
strenuously opposed the popish religion, taught the same
doctrine that the Reformers afterwards did, and had many
followers in England. He was hotly persecuted in his
lifetime, yet died in peace ; but after he was buried, his
bones were dug up by his persecutors, and burnt. His
followers remained in considerable numbers in England
till the Reformation ; they were cruelly persecuted, and
multitudes were put to death for their religion.
Wickliff had many disciples, not only in England, but
in other parts of Europe, whither his books were carried ;
and particularly in Bohemia, among whom were two emi
nent divines, John Huss, and Jerom, a divine of Prague,
the chief city of Bohemia. These strenuously opposed the
church of Rome, and had many who adhered to them.
They were both burnt by the papists for their doctrine ;
and their followers in Bohemia were cruelly persecuted,
but never extirpated till the Reformation.

PART V.
THE SUCCESS OF REDEMPTION FROM THE REFORMATION
TO THE PRESENT TIME.
Thus having gone through the dark time of the church,
I come now to consider that part which begins with the
Reformation, and reaches to the present time. And here
I would, 1. Speak of the Reformation itself; 2. The op

position which the devil has made to the Reformed church ;
3. What success there has lately been of the gospel in one
place and another ; 4. What the state of things is now in
the world with regard to the church of Christ, and the suc
cess of his purchase.
I. The first thing to be taken notice of is the Reforma
tion itself. This was begun in Germany, about the year
fifteen Hundred and fifteen, by the preaching of Martin
Luther, who being stirred in his spirit to see the horrid
practices of the popish clergy — and having set himself
diligently to inquire after truth by the study of the Holy
Scriptures, and the writings of the ancient fathers of the
church — very openly and boldly decried the corruptions
and usurpations of the Romish church in his preaching and
writings. He had soon a great number who fell in with
him ; among whom was the Elector of Saxony, the sove
reign prince of the country to which he belonged. This
greatly alarmed the church of Rome ; it rallied all its
force to oppose him and his doctrine, and fierce wars and
persecutions were raised against it. But yet it went on
by the labours of Luther and Melancthon in Germany,
Zuinglius in Switzerland, and other eminent divines, who
were contemporary with Luther ; particularly Calvin, who
appeared after the beginning of the Reformation, but was
one of the most eminent reformers.
Many of the princes of Germany soon fell in with the
Reformed religion, and many other states and kingdoms
in Europe, as England, Scotland, Sweden, Denmark,
Norway, great part of France, Poland, Lithuania, Switzer
land, and the Low Countries. So that it is thought, that
heretofore about half Christendom were of the protestant
religion ; though since, the papists have gained ground :
so that the protestants now have not so great a propor
tion. Thus God began gloriously to revive his church again,
and advance the kingdom of his Son ; after such a dismal
night of darkness from the rise of Antichrist to that time.
There had been many endeavours used by the witnesses
for the truth for a reformation before. But now, when
God's appointed time was come, his work went on with a
swift and wonderful progress ; and Antichrist, who had
been rising higher and higher from his beginning till that
time, was swiftly and suddenly brought down ; he fell
half-way towards utter ruin, and never has been able to rise
again to his former height. A certain late expositor, (Mr.
Lowman,) who explains the five first vials in the 16th
chapter of Revelation with greater probability perhaps
than any who went before him, explains the fifth vial,
which was poured out on the seat of the beast, of what
came to pass in the Reformation ; having explained the
four preceding vials of certain great judgments which God
brought on the popish dominions before the Reformation.
It is said, Rev. xvi. 10. that " the fifth angel poured out his
vial on the seat of the beast ;" in the original, it is the
throne of the beast ; " and his kingdom was full of dark
ness, and they gnawed their tongues for pain, and blas
phemed the God of heaven because of their pains and
their sores, and repented not of their deeds." He poured
out his vial upon the throne of the beast, i. e. on the autho
rity and dominion of the pope : so the word throne is
often used in Scripture ; so 1 Kings i. 37. " As the Lord
hath been with my lord the king, even so be he with Solo
mon, and make his throne greater than the throne of my
lord King David ;" i. e. make his dominion and authority
greater, and his kingdom more glorious.
But now, in the Reformation, the vials of God's wrath
were poured out on the throne of the beast, till it was ter
ribly shaken and diminished. The pope's authority and
dominion was so greatly diminished, both as to extent and
degree, that he lost about half his dominions ; besides that
authority, even in popish dominions, which he had before.
He is not regarded, and his power is dreaded in no
measure as it was wont to be. Tne powers of Europe have
learned not to put their necks under the pope's feet. He
is as a lion that has lost his teeth, in comparison of what
he was once. And when the pope and his clergy, enraged
to see their authority so diminished at the Reformation,
laid their heads together, and joined their forces to destroy
the Reformation ; their policy, which was wont to serve
them so well, failed. They found their kingdom full of

598

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

darkness, so that they could do nothing, any more than
the Egyptians, who rose not from their seats for three days.
Tne ifeformed church was defended as Lot and the angels
were in Sodom, by smiting the Sodomites with darkness or
blindness, so that they could not find the door. God then
fulfilled that in Job v. 11, &c. " To set up on high those
that be low ; that those which mourn may be exalted to
safety. He disappointeth the devices of the crafty, so that
their hands cannot perform their enterprise. He taketh
the wise in their own craftiness ; and the counsel of the
froward is carried headlong. They meet with darkness in
the day-time, and grope in the noon-day as in the night.
But he saveth the poor from the sword, from their mouth,
and from the hand of the mighty." — Those proud enemies
of God's people being so disappointed, and finding them
selves so unable to uphold their own dominion and autho
rity, were made as it were fo gnaw their tongues for pain,
or to bite them for mere rage.
II. I proceed to show what opposition has been made by
Satan and his adherents, to this success of Christ's pur
chase by the Reformation ; observing as we go along, how
far they have been baffled, and how far they have been
successful. The opposition which Satan has made against the Re
formed religion has been principally of the following kinds,
viz. that which was made, 1 . by a general council of the
church of Rome; 2. by secret plots and devices; 3. by
open wars and invasions ; 4. by cruel oppression and
persecution ; and, 5. by bringing in corrupt opinions.
1 . The first opposition that I shall notice is that which
was made by the clergy of the church of Rome in a
general council. This was the famous council of Trent,
which the pope called a little while after the Reformation.
In that council, there met together six cardinals, thirty-two
archbishops, two hundred and twenty-eight bishops, be
sides innumerable others of the Romish clergy. This
council, in all their sittings, including the times of inter
mission, was held for twenty-five years together. Their
main business all this while was to concert measures for
establishing the church of Rome against the reformers,
and for destroying the Reformation. But it proved that
they were not able to perform their enterprise. The Re
formed church, notwithstanding their great council, remain
ed, and still remains. So that the council of the froward
is earned headlong ; their kingdom is full of darkness, and
they weary themselves to find the door.
Thus the church of Rome, instead of repenting of their
deeds, when such clear light was held forth to them by
Luther and other servants of God, persisted, by general
agreement in council, in their vile corruptions and wicked
ness, and obstinate opposition to the kingdom of Christ.
The doctrines and practices of the church of Rome, which
were chiefly condemned by the Reformed, were confirmed
by the decrees of their council ; and the corruptions, in
many respects, were carried higher than ever before. They
uttered blasphemous reproaches and curses against the
Reformed religion, and all the Reformed church was ex
communicated and anathematized by them. According to
the prophecy, they blasphemed God. Thus God hardened
their hearts, [i. _. left them to do so,] intending to destroy
them. 2. The papists have often endeavoured to overthrow the
Reformation by secret plots and conspiracies. There were
many plots against the life of Luther. The papists were
contriving to despatch him out of their way ; and he,
being a very bold man, often very much exposed himself
in the cause of Christ : but yet they were wonderfully
prevented from hurting him, and he at last died in his bed
in peace. There have been innumerable schemes secretly
laid for the overthrow of the protestant religion ; one of
the most considerable, and which seemed to be the most
likely to have taken effect, was that in the time of King
James II. of England. There was at that time a strong
conspiracy between the king of England and Lewis Xiv!
of France, who were both papists, to extirpate the North-
em heresy, as they called the protestant religion, not only
out of England, but out of all Europe ; and they had laid
their schemes so, that they seemed to be almost sure of
their purpose. They looked upon it, that if the Reformed
religion were suppressed in the British realms, and in the

Netherlands, which were the strongest part, and chief
defence of the protestant interest, they should have easy
work with the rest. And just as their matters seemed to
be come to a head, and their enterprise ripe for execution,
God in his providence, suddenly dashed all their schemes
in pieces by the Revolution, at the coming in of King
William and Queen Mary; by which all their designs
were at an end. Now the protestant interest was more
strongly established, by the crown of England being
transferred to the protestant house of Hanover, and a
papist being, by the constitution of the nation, for ever
rendered incapable of wearing the crown of England.
Thus they groped in darkness at noon-day as in the night,
and their hands could not perform their enterprise, and
their kingdom was full of darkness, and they gnawed their
tongues for pain.
After this, there was a deep design laid to bring the
same thing to pass in the latter end of Queen Anne's reign,
by the bringing in of the popish Pretender ; which was no
less suddenly and totally baffled by Divine Providence;
as all the plots against the Reformation by bringing in the
Pretender have been.
3. The Reformation has often been opposed by open
wars and invasions. The emperor of Germany declared
war with the duke of Saxony, and the principal men who
favoured and received Luther's doctrine. But they could
not obtain their end ; they could not suppress the Refor
mation. For the same end, some time after, the king of
Spain maintained a long war with Holland and the Low
Countries. But those cruel wars issued greatly to the dis
advantage of the Romish church, as they occasioned the
setting up of one of the most powerful protestant states in
Europe. The design of the Spanish invasion of England
in Queen Elizabeth's time, was to suppress and root out
the Reformed religion ; and therefore they brought in then-
fleet all manner of instruments of cruelty wherewith to
torture the protestants who would not renounce the pro
testant religion. But their design was totally baffled, and
their mighty fleet in a great measure ruined.
4. Satan has opposed the Reformation with cruel perse
cutions. The persecutions with which the protestants have
been harassed by the church of Rome, have in many
respects been far beyond any of the heathen persecutions.
So that Antichrist has proved the greatest and most cruel
enemy to the church of Christ that ever was in the world,
in this, as well as in all other respects ; agreeable to the
description given of the church of Rome, Rev. xvii. 6.
" And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the
saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus." And,
chap, xviii. 24. " And in her was found the blood of pro
phets, and of saints, and of all them that were slain upon
the earth."
The heathen persecutions had been very dreadful : but
now persecution by the church of. Rome was improved,
and studied, and cultivated, as an art or science. Such
ways of afflicting and tormenting were found out, as are
beyond the invention of ordinary men, or men unstudied
in those things : and beyond the invention of all former
ages. And that persecution might be managed the more
effectually, there were certain societies of men established
in various parts of the popish dominions, whose business
it should be to study, and improve, and practise persecu
tion in its highest perfection, viz. the courts qf inquisition.
The particular histories of the Romish persecution, and
their courts of inquisition, will give that idea which a few
words cannot express.
When the Reformation began, the beast with seven heads
and ten horns began to rage in a dreadful manner. The
church of Rome renewed its persecution of the poor
Waldenses, and great multitudes of them were cruelly
tortured and put to death. Soon after the Reformation,
there were terrible persecutions in various parts of
Germany ; and especially in Bohemia, which lasted for
thirty years together ; in which so much blood was shed
for the sake of religion, that a certain writer compares it
to the plenty of waters of the great rivers of Germany.
The countries of Poland, Lithuania, and Hungary, were
in like manner deluged with protestant blood.
By means of these and other cruel persecutions, the
protestant religion was in a great measure suppressed in

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599

Bohemia, the Palatinate, and Hungary, which before were
protestant countries. Thus was fulfilled what was fore
told of the little horn, Dan. vii. 20, 21. "—and of the
ten horns that were in his head, and of the other which
came up, and before whom three fell, even of that horn
that had eyes, and a mouth that spake very great things,
whose look was more stout than his fellows. I beheld,
and the same horn made war with the saints, and prevailed
against them." And what was foretold of the beast hav
ing seven heads and ten horns, Rev. xiii. 7. " And it was
given unto him to make war with the saints, and to over
come them ; and power was given him over all kindreds,
and tongues, and nations."
Holland and the other Low Countries were for many
years a scene of nothing but the most affecting and amaz
ing cruelties, being deluged with the blood of protestants,
under the merciless hands of the Spaniards, to whom
they were then in subjection. But in this persecution,
the devil in a great measure failed of his purpose ; as it
issued in a great part of the Netherlands casting off the
Spanish yoke, and setting up a wealthy and powerful pro
testant state, to the great defence of the protestant cause
ever since.
France is also another country, which since the Re
formation, in some respects, perhaps more than any other,
has been a scene of dreadful cruelties suffered by the pro
testants. After many cruelties had been exercised to
wards the protestants in that kingdom, there was begun a
persecution of them in the year fifteen hundred and
seventy-one, in the reign of Charles IX. king of France.
It began with. a cruel massacre, wherein seventy thousand
protestants were slain in a few days, as the king boasted :
and in all this persecution, he slew, as is supposed, three
hundred thousand martyrs. And it is reckoned, that
about this time, within thirty years, there were martyred
in this kingdom, for the protestant religion, thirty-nine
princes, one hundred and forty-eight counts, two hundred
and thirty-four barons, one hundred and forty-seven thou
sand five hundred and eighteen gentlemen, and seven
hundred and sixty thousand common people.
But all these persecutions were, for exquisite cruelty, far
exceeded by those which followed in the reign of Lewis
XIV. which indeed are supposed to exceed all others ;
and being long continued, by reason of the long reign of
that king, they almost wholly extirpated the protestant re
ligion out of that kingdom, where had flourished a multi
tude of famous protestant churches all over the kingdom.
Thus it was given to the beast to make war with the saints,
and to overcome them.
There was also a terrible persecution in England in
Queen Mary's time, wherein great numbers in all parts of
the kingdom were burnt alive. And after this, though the
protestant religion has been for the most part established
by law in England, yet there have been very severe per
secutions by the high-churchmen, who symbolize in
many things with the papists. Such was that which oc
casioned our forefathers to flee from their native country,
and to come and settle in this land, which was then a
hideous howling wilderness. And these persecutions were
continued with little intermission till King William came
to the throne.
Scotland has also been the scene, for many years toge
ther, of cruelties and blood by the hands of high-church
men, such as came very little short of the popish persecu
tion in Queen Mary's days, and in many things much
exceeded it, which continued till they were delivered by
King William.
Ireland also has been as it were overwhelmed with pro
testant blood. In the days of King Charles I. of Eng
land, above two hundred thousand protestants were cruelly
murdered in that kingdom in a few days; the papists, by
a secret agreement, rising at an appointed time, intending
to kill every protestant in the kingdom at once.
Besides these, there have been very cruel persecutions
in Italy, and Spain, and other places, which I shall not
stand to relate. — Thus did the devil, and his great minister
¦Antichrist, rage with such violence and cruelty against the
church of Christ ! and thus did the whore of Babylon
make herself drunk with the blood of the saints and mar
tyrs of Jesus ! By these persecutions the protestant church

has been much diminished. Yet have they not been able
to prevail; but still the protestant church' is upheld, and
Christ fulfils his promise, that "the gates of hell shall not
prevail against it.
5. The last kind of opposition that Satan has made to
the Reformation is by corrupt opinions. The first oppo
sition of this kind was by the sect of the Anabaptists,
which began about four or "five years after the Reforma
tion itself. This sect, as it first appeared in Germany,
were vastly more extravagant than the present Anabap
tists are in England. They held a great many exceeding
corrupt opinions. One tenet of theirs was, that there
ought to be no civil authority, and that it was lawful to
rebel against it. And on this principle, they refused to
submit to magistrates, or any human laws ; and gathered
together in vast armies, to defend themselves against their
civil rulers, and put all Germany into an uproar, and so
kept it for some time.
The next opposition of this kind to the Reformation
was that which was made by enthusiasts. Those are call
ed enthusiasts who falsely pretend to be inspired by the
Holy Ghost as the prophets were. These began in Ger
many about ten years after Luther began the Reforma
tion ; and there arose various sects of them who were ex
ceeding wild and extravagant. The followers of these are
the Quakers in England, and other parts of the British
dominions. The next to these were the Socinians, who had their be
ginning chiefly in Poland, by the teaching of Lcclius So-
cinus, and Faustus Socinus. They held, that Christ was a
mere man, and denied Christ's satisfaction and most of
the fundamental doctrines of the christian religion. Their
heresy has since been greatly propagated among protestants
in Poland, Germany, Holland, England, and other places.
After these arose the Arminians. They take their name
from a Dutchman, whose name was Jacobus Van Harmin,
which, turned into Latin, is called Jacobus Arminius;
and from his name the whole sect are called Arminians.
This Jacobus Arminius was first a minister at Amsterdam,
and then a professor of divinity in the university of Ley-
den. He had many followers in Holland. There was
upon this a synod of all the reformed churches called to
gether, who met at Dort in Holland. The synod of Dort
condemned them; but yet they spread aiid prevailed.
They began to prevail in England in the reign of Charles
I. especially in the church of England. The church of
England divines before that were almost universally Cal
vinists : but since that, Arminianism has gradually more
and more prevailed, till they are become almost universally
Arminians. And not only so, but Arminianism has greatly
prevailed among the dissenters, and has spread greatly in
New England, as well as Old.
Since this, Arianism has been revived. Arianism, a
little after Constantine's time, almost swallowed up the
christian world, like a flood out of the mouth of the ser
pent which threatened to swallow up the woman. And
of late years, this heresy has been revived in England,
and greatly prevails there, both in the church of England,
and among dissenters. These hold, that Christ is but a
mere creature, though they grant that he is the greatest of
all creatures.
Another thing which has of late exceedingly prevailed
among protestants, and especially in England, is deism.
The deists wholly cast off the christian religion, and are
professed infidels. Indeed they own the being of God ;
but deny any revealed religion, or any word of God at all ;
and say, that God has given mankind no other light to
walk by but their own reason. With these opinions our
nation, which is the principal nation of the Reformation,
is very much overrun, and they prevail ' more and more.
Thus much conceming the opposition that Satan has made
against the Reformation.
III. I proceed now to show what success the gospel has
had in. these later times of the Reformed church. This
success may be reduced to three heads : 1 . Reformation
in doctrine and worship in countries called Christian ; 2.
Propagation ofthe gospel among the heathen; 3. Revival
of religion in the power and practice of it.
1. As to the first, viz. reformation in doctrine, the most
considerable success of late has been in the empire of

600

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

Muscovy, which is a country of vast extent. The people
of this country, so many of them as cill themselves Chris
tians, professed to be of the Greek church ; but were
barbarously ignorant, and very superstitious, till of late
years. Their late emperor, Peter the Great, set himself to
reform his dominions, took great pains to bring them out
of their darkness, and to have them instructed in religion.
To that end, he set up schools of learning, ordered the
Bible to be printed in the language of the country, made
a law that every family should keep the Holy Scriptures
in their houses, that every person should be able to read
the same, and that no person should be allowed to marry
till they were able to read the Scriptures. He also re
formed the churches of his country of many of their super
stitions, whereby the religion professed and practised in
Muscovy is much nearer to that of the protestants than
formerly it used to be. This emperor gave great encour
agement to the exercise of the protestant religion in his
dominions. And since that, Muscovy is become a land
of light, in comparison of what it was fifty years past.
2. As to the second kind of success which the gospel
has lately had, viz. its propagation among the heathen, I
would take notice of three things.
(1.) The propagation of the gospel among the heathen
here in America. This American continent, which is a
very great part of the world, and, together with its neigh
bouring seas adjoining, takes up one side of the globe,
was wholly unknown to all christian nations till these
latter times. It was not known that there was any such
part of the world, though it was very full of people : and
therefore the devil had this part of the world as it were
secure to himself, out of the reach of the light of the
gospel, and so out of the way of molestation in his
dominion over them. Here the many nations of Indians
worshipped him as God from age to age, while the gospel
was confined to the opposite side of the globe. It is pro
bably supposed, from some remaining accounts, that the
occasion of first peopling America was this ; that the
devil, being alarmed and surprised by the wonderful
success of the gospel the first three hundred years after
Christ, and by the downfall of the heathen empire in the
time of Constantine — and seeing the gospel spread so fast,
and fearing that his heathenish kingdom would be wholly
overthrown through the world — led away a people from
the other continent into America, that they might be quite
out of the reach of the gospel, that here he might quietly
possess them, and reign over them as their god. — Many
writers intimate, that some of the Indian nations, when
the Europeans first came into America, had a tradition
among them, that their god first led them into this conti
nent, and went before them in an ark.
However, it is certain that the devil did here quietly
enjoy his dominion over the poor Indians for many ages.
But in later times God has sent the gospel into these parts,
and now the christian church is set up here in New
England, and in other parts of America, where before had
been nothing but the grossest heathenish darkness. Great
part of America is now full of Bibles, and full of at least
the form of the worship of the true God and Jesus Christ,
where the name of Christ before had not been heard of for
many ages, if at all. And though there has been but a
small propagation of the gospel among the heathen here,
in comparison of what were to be wished for ; yet there
has been something worthy of notice. — There was some
thing remarkable in New England, both at first and of
late, and in other parts of America among many Indians,
of an inclination to be instructed in the christian religion.
However small the propagation of the gospel among the
heathen here in America has been hitherto ; yet I think
we may well look upon the discovery of so great a part of
the world, and bringing the gospel into it, as one thing by
which Divine Providence is preparing the way for the
future glorious times of the church ; when Satan's king
dom shall be overthrown, throughout the whole habitable
globe, on every side, and on all its continents. When
those times come, then doubtless the gospel shall have
glorious success, and all the inhabitants of this new-dis
covered world shall become subjects of the kingdom of
Christ, as well as all the other ends of the earth. In all
probability, Providence has so ordered it, that the mariner's

compass (which is an invention of later times, whereby
men are enabled to sail over the widest ocean, when before
they durst not venture far from land) should prove a pre
paration for what God intends to bring to pass in the
glorious times of the church, viz. the sending forth the
gospel wherever any of the children of men dwell, how far
soever off, and however separated by wide oceans from
those parts of the world which are already christianized.
(2.) There has of late years been a very considerable
propagation of the gospel among the heathen in the
dominions of Muscovy. I have already observed the
reformation which has lately been among those who are
called Christians there : but I now speak of the heathen.
Great part of the vast dominions ofthe emperor of Muscovy
are gross heathens. The greater part of Great Tartary, a
heathen country, has in later times been brought under the
Muscovite government ; and there have been of late great
numbers who have renounced their heathenism, and have
embraced the christian religion.
(3.) There has been lately a very considerable propaga
tion of the christian religion among the heathen in the
East Indies ; particularly, many in Malabar have been
brought over to the christian protestant religion, chiefly by
the labours of certain missionaries sent thither to instruct
them by the king of Denmark, who have brought over
many heathens to the christian faith, and have set up
schools among them, and a printing-press to print Bibles
and other books for their instruction, in their own lan
guage, with great success.
3. The last kind of success which I shall notice, is the
revivals of the power and practice of religion. And here I
shall take notice of but two instances.
(1.) There has been not long since a remarkable revival
of the power and practice of religion in Germany, through
the endeavours of an eminent divine there, August Her
man Frank, professor of divinity at Halle in Saxony,
Being a person of eminent chanty, the great work that
God wrought by him, began with his setting on foot a
charitable design. It began only with his placing an alms-
box at his study-door, into which some poor mites were
thrown, whereby books were bought for the instruction of
the poor. And God was pleased so wonderfully to smile
on his design, and so to pour out a spirit of charity on
that occasion, that he was enabled in a little time to erect
public schools for the instruction of poor children, and an
orphan-house for their supply and instruction. — At last,
near five hundred children were maintained and instructed
in learning and piety by the charity of others ; and the
number continued to increase more and more for many
years. This was accompanied with a wonderful reforma
tion and revival of religion, and a spirit of piety, in the
city and university of Halle ; and thus it continued. Which
also had great influence in many other places in Germany.
Their example seemed remarkably to stir up multitudes to
their imitation.
(2.) Another thing, which it would be ungrateful in us
not to notice, is that remarkable pouring out of the Spirit
of God which has been of late in this part of New Eng
land, of which we, in this town, have had such a share.
But it is needless for me particularly to describe it, seeing
you have so lately been eye-witnesses of it, and I hope
multitudes are sensible of the benefit. Thus I have men
tioned the more remarkable instances of the success which
the gospel has lately had in the world.
IV. I proceed now to the last thing proposed to be
considered, relating to the success of Christ's redemption
during this space, viz. what is the present state of things
now in the world, with regard to the church of Christ, and
the success of his purchase. And this I would do, by
showing how things are now compared with the first times
ofthe Reformation — And, 1. I would show wherein the
state of things is altered for the worse ; and, 2. How it is
altered for the better.
1. I would show wherein the state of things is altered
from what it was in the beginning of the Reformation, for
the worse ; and it is so especially in these three respects.
(1.) The reformed church is much diminished. The Re
formation, in former times, was supposed to take place
through one half of Christendom, excepting the Greek
church ; or that there were as many protestants as pa-

Part V.

TO THE PRESENT TIME.

601

pists. But now it is not so; the protestant church is much
diminished. Heretofore there have been multitudes of
protestants in France ; many famous protestant churches
were planted all over that country, who used to meet to
gether in synods, and maintain a very regular discipline.
The protestant church of France was a great part of the
glory of the Reformation. But now it is far otherwise:
this church is all broken and scattered, and there are now
but very few protestant assemblies in all that kingdom.
The protestant interest is also greatly diminished in Ger
many. There were formerly several sovereign protestant
princes, whose successors are now papists; as, particu
larly the Elector Palatine, and the Elector of Saxony. The
kingdom of Bohemia was formerly a protestant kingdom,
but is now in the hands of the papists. Hungary was
formerly a protestant country; but the protestants there
have been greatly reduced, and in a great measure sub
dued, by persecutions. And the protestant interest has
no way of late remarkably gained ground of the church of
Rome. (2.) Another thing wherein the state of things is altered
for the worse compared with the former times of the Re
formation, is the prevailing of licentiousness in principles
and opinions. — There is not now that spirit of orthodoxy
which then prevailed : there is very little appearance of
zeal for the mysterious and spiritual doctrines of Christi
anity ; and they never were so held in contempt, as they
are in the present age ; and especially in England, the
principal kingdom of the Reformation. In this kingdom,
those principles on which the power of godliness depends,
are in a great measure exploded, and Arianism, Socinian-
ism, Arminianism, and Deism, prevail, and carry almost
all before them. History gives no account of any age
wherein there was so great an infidel apostacy of those
who had been brought up under the light of the gospel ;
never was there such a disavowal of all revealed religion ;
never any age wherein there was so much scoffing at and
ridiculing the gospel of Christ by those who have been
brought up under the gospel-light.
(3.) Another thing wherein things are altered for the
worse, is, that there is much less of the prevalency of the
power of godliness, than there was at the beginning of the
Reformation. A glorious out-pouring of the Spirit of God
accompanied the first Reformation, not only to convert
multitudes in so short a time from popery to the true re
ligion, but to turn many to God and true godliness. But
now there is an exceeding great decay of vital piety ; yea,
it seems to be despised, called enthusiasm, and fanaticism.
Those who are truly religious, are commonly looked upon
to be beside their right mind ; and vice and profaneness
dreadfully prevail, like a flood which threatens to bear
down all before it. — But I proceed now to show,
2. In what respects thingsare altered for the betterfrom
what they were in the first Reformation.
(1.) The power and influence of the pope is much di
minished. Although, since the former times of the Re
formation, he has gained ground in extent of dominion ;
yet he has lost in degree of influence. The vial which in
the beginning of the Reformation was poured out on the
throne of the beast, to the great diminishing of his power
and authority in the world, has continued running ever
since. The pope, soon after the Reformation, became less
regarded by the princes of Europe than he had been be
fore ; and so he has been since less and less. Many of
the popish princes themselves seem now to regard him
very little more than they think will serve their own de
signs ; of which there have been several remarkable proofs
and instances of late.
(2.) There is far less persecution now than there was in
the first times of the Reformation. Some parts of the
protestant church are at this day under persecution, and so
probably will be till the day of the church's suffering and
travail is at an end, which will not be till the fall of Anti
christ. But it is now in no measure as it was heretofore.
There does not seem to be the same spirit of persecution
prevailing ; it is become more out of fashion even among
the popish princes. The wickedness of the enemies of

Christ, and the opposition against his cause, seem to run
in another channel. The humour now is to despise and
laugh at all religion ; and there seems to be a spirit of in-
difterency about it. However, so far the state of things is
better than it has been, that there is so much less of perse
cution. 3. There is a great increase of learning. In the dark
times of popery, before the Reformation, learning was so
far decayed, that the world seemed to be overrun with
barbarous ignorance. Their very priests were many of them
grossly ignorant. Learning began to revive with the Re
formation, owing very much to the art of printing which
was invented a little before this period. Since then, learn
ing has increased more and more, and at this day is un
doubtedly raised to a vastly greater height than ever it was
before: and though no -good use is made of it by the
greater part of learned men, yet the increase of learning in
itself is a thing to be rejoiced in, because it is a good, and,
if duly applied, an excellent handmaid to divinity. It is a
talent which, if God gives men a heart, affords them great
advantage to do great things for the advancement of the
kingdom of Christ, and the good of the souls of men.
That learning and knowledge should greatly increase be
fore the glorious times, seems to be foretold, Dan. xii. 4.
" But thou, O Daniel, shut up the words, and seal the
book, even to the time of the end : many shall run to and
fro, and knowledge shall be increased." And however
little now learning is applied to the advancement of reli
gion ; yet we may hope that the days are approaching
wherein God will make great use of it for the advancement
of the kingdom of Christ.
God in his providence now seems to be acting over again
the same part which he did a little before Christ came.
When Christ came into the world, learning greatly pre
vailed ; and yet wickedness never prevailed more than
then. God was pleased to suffer human learning to come
to such a height before he sent forth the gospel into the
world, that the world might see the insufficiency of all their
own wisdom for the obtaining the knowledge of God,
without the gospel of Christ, and the teaching of his Spirit.
When, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom knew
not God, it pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching,
to save them that believe. And when the gospel came to
prevail first without the help of man's wisdom, then God
was pleased to make use of learning as a handmaid. So
now, learning is at a great height in the world, far beyond
what it was in the age when Christ appeared ; and now the
world, by their learning and wisdom, do not know God ;
and they seem to wander in darkness, are miserably de
luded, stumble and fall in matters of religion, as in mid
night darkness. Trusting to their learning, they grope in
the day-time as in the night. Learned men are exceed
ingly divided in their opinions concerning the matters of reli
gion, running into all manner of corrupt opinions, pernicious
and foolish errors. They scorn to submit their reason to
divine revelation, to believe any thing that is above their
comprehension ; and so being wise in their own eyes, they
become fools, and even vain in their imaginations ; they
turn the truth of God into a lie, and their foolish heartsare
darkened. See Rom. i. 21, &c.
But yet, when God has sufficiently shown men the in
sufficiency of human wisdom and learning for tbe purposes
of religion, and when the appointed time comes for that
glorious outpouring of the Spirit of God, when he will
himself by his own immediate influence enlighten men's
minds ; then may we hope that God will make use of the
great increase of learning as a handmaid of religion, as a
means of the glorious advancement of the kingdom of his
Son. Then shall human learning be subservient to the
understanding ofthe Scriptures, and to a clear explanation
and a glorious defence of the doctrines of Christianity.
And there is no doubt, that God in his providence has of
late given the world the art of printing, and such a great
increase of learning, to prepare for what he designs to ac
complish for his church in the approaching days of its
prosperity. And thus the wealth of the wicked is laid up
| for the just, Prov. xiii. 22.

602

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

PART VI.
IMPROVEMENT OP, PAST EVENTS.
Having now shown how the work of redemption has
been carried on from the fall of man to the present time,
before I proceed any further, I would make some appli
cation. I. From what has been said, we may see great evidence
of the truth of the christian religion, and that the Scrip
tures are the word of God. There are three arguments of
this, which may be drawn from what has been said.
1 . It may be argued from that violent and inveterate
opposition there has always appeared of the wickedness of
the world against this religion. The religion that the
church of God has professed from the first, has always
been the same. Though the dispensations have been
altered, yet the religion which the church has professed
has always, as to its essentials, been the same. The church
of God, from the beginning, has been one society. The
christian church is manifestly the same society continued,
that was before Christ came ; grafted on the same root,
built on the same foundation. The revelation on which
both have depended, is essentially the same : for as the
christian church is built on the Holy Scriptures, so was
the Jewish church. Though now the Scriptures are en
larged by the addition of the New Testament, still it is
essentially the same revelation with that which was given
in the Old Testament, only the subjects of divine revela
tion are now more clearly revealed in the New Testament
than they were in the Old. The sum of both the Old
Testament and New, is Christ and his redemption. The
ground-work of the religion of the church of God, both
before and since Christ has appeared, is the same great
scheme of redemption by the son of God. The church
that was before the Israelitish church, was still the same
society, and it was essentially the same religion that was
professed and practised in it. Thus it was from Noah to
Abraham, and thus it was before the flood ; for this also
was built on the foundation of those revelations of Christ
which were given to Adam, and Enoch. So that the
church of God has always been built on those divine
revelations, and were always essentially the same, and
they are summarily comprehended in the Holy Scriptures.
Ever since Moses's time the church has been built on the
Scriptures themselves.
So that the opposition which has been made to the
church of God in all ages, has always been against the
same religion, and the same revelation. Now therefore
the violent and perpetual opposition that has ever been
made by the corruption and wickedness of mankind against
this church, is a strong argument of the truth of this re
ligion, and this revelation, upon which this church has
always been built. Contraries are well argued one from
another. We may well and safely argue, that a thing is
good, according to the degree of opposition in which it
stands to evil, or the degree in which evil opposes it, and
is an enemy to it. Now it is evident by the things which
you have heard concerning the church of Christ, and that
holy religion of Jesus Christ which it has professed, that
the wickedness of the world has had a perpetual hatred
to it, and has made most violent opposition against it.
. That the church of God has always met with great op
position in the world, none can deny. This is plain by
profane history as far as that reaches ; and before that,
divine history gives us the same account. The church of
God, its religion and worship, began to be opposed in the
time of Cain and Abel ; and was so when the earth was
¦filled with violence in Noah's time. After this, how was
the church opposed in Egypt ! and how was Israel always
hated by the nations round about, agreeable to Jer. xii. 9.
" Mine heritage is unto me as a speckled bird, the birds
.round about are against her." And after the Babylonish
captivity, how was this church persecuted by Antiochus
Epiphanes and others ! How was Christ persecuted when
he was on earth ! and how were the apostles and other
Christians persecuted by the Jews, before the destruction

of Jerusalem by the Romans ! How violent were that
people against the church ! and how dreadful was the op
position of the heathen world against the Christian church
after this before Constantine ! How great was their spite
against the true religion ! And since that, how yet more
violent, and spiteful, and cruel, has been the opposition of
Antichrist against the church !
There is no other such instance of opposition. History
gives no account of any other body of men that have been
so hated, and so maliciously and insatiably pursued and
persecuted, nor any thing like it. No other religion ever
was so maligned age after age. The nations of other
professions have enjoyed their religions in peace and
quietness, however they have differed from their neighbours.
One nation has worshipped one sort of gods, and others
another, without molesting or disturbing one another about
it. All the spite and opposition has been against this
religion, which the church of Christ has professed. All
other religions have seemed to show an implacable enmity
to this ; and men have seemed to have, from one age to
another, such a spite against it, that they have seemed as
though they could never satisfy their cruelty. They put
their inventions upon the rack to find out torments that
should be cruel enough ; and yet, after all, never seemed
to be satisfied. Their thirst has never been satisfied with
blood. So that it is out of doubt, that this religion, and these
Scriptures, have always been malignantly opposed in the
world. The only question that remains is, What it is that
has made this opposition ? whether or not it has been good
or bad ? whether it be the wickedness and corruption of
the world, or not, that has done this ? But of this there
can be no greater doubt than that of the other, if we con
sider how causeless this cruelty has always been, who the
opposers have been, and the manner in which they have
opposed. The opposition has chiefly been from heathenism
and popery ; which are the fruits of the blindness, cor
ruption, and wickedness of men, as the very deists them
selves confess. The light of nature shows, that the religion
of heathens, consisting in the worship of idols, and sacri
ficing their children to them, and in obscene and abomin
able rites and ceremonies, is wickedness. And the super
stitions, idolatries, and usurpations of the church of Rome,
are no less contrary to the light of nature. By this ap
pears, that this opposition which has been made against
the church of God, has been made by wicked men. And
with regard to the opposition of the Jews in Christ's and
the apostles' time, it was in a most corrupt time of that
nation, when the people were generally become exceeding
wicked, as some of the Jewish writers themselves, Josephus
and others, who lived about that time, expressly declare.
And that it has been mere wickedness that has made this
opposition, is manifest from the manner of opposition ; the
extreme violence, injustice, and cruelty, with which the
church of God has been treated. It seems to show the
hand of malignant infernal spirits.
Now what reason can be assigned, why the corruption
and wickedness of the world should so implacably set
itself against this religion of Jesus Christ, and against the
Scriptures, but only that they are contrary to wickedness,
and consequently are good and holy ? Why should the
enemies of Christ, for so many thousand years together,
manifest such a mortal hatred of this religion, but only
that it is the cause of God ? If the Scriptures be not the
word of God, and the religion of the church of Christ be
not the true religion, then it must follow, that it is a most
wicked religion ; nothing but a pack of lies and abomin
able delusions, invented by the enemies of God. And if
so, it is not likely that the enemies of God, and the wick
edness of the world, would have maintained such a per
petual and implacable enmity against it.
2. It is a great argument that the christian church and
its religion is from God, that it has been upheld hitherto
through all opposition and dangers. That the church of
God and the true religion, which has been so continually
and violently opposed, with so many endeavours to over
throw it— and which has so often been brought to the brink
of ruin, through the greatest part of six thousand years-
has yet been upheld, most remarkably shows the hand of
God in favour of the church. If duly considered, it will

Part VI.

IMPROVEMENT OF PAST EVENTS.

603

appear one of the greatest wonders and miracles that ever
came to pass. There is nothing like it upon the face of
the earth. There is no other society of men that has stood
as the church has. As to the old world before the flood,
that was overthrown by a deluge of waters ; but yet the
church of God was preserved. Satan's visible kingdom
on earth was then once entirely overthrown; but the
visible kingdom of Christ never has been overthrown. All
those ancient human kingdoms and monarchies of which
we read, are long since come to an end ; the Moabites, the
Ammonites, the Edomite's, &c. The great empire of proud
Babylon was overthrown by the Persians ; then the Persian
empire was overthrown by the Greeks ; after this the Gre
cian empire was overthrown by the Romans ; and, finally,
the Roman empire fell a sacrifice to various barbarous
nations. Here is a remarkable fulfilment of the text,
" The moth has eaten them up like a garment, and the
worm has eaten them like wool ; but God's church re
mains." Never were there so many and so potent endeavours to
destroy any thing else, as there has been to destroy the
church. Other kingdoms and societies of men, which
have appeared to be ten times as strong as the church,
have been destroyed with a hundredth part of the oppo
sition which the church of God has met with : which
shows, that it is God who has been its protector. For it
is most plain, that it has not upheld itself by its own
strength. For the most part, it has been a very weak
society. The children of Israel were but a handful of
people, in comparison of the many who often sought their
overthrow. So in Christ's time, and in the beginning of
the christian church, they were but a remnant: whereas
the whole multitude of the Jewish nation were against
them. And so in the beginning of the Gentile church,
they were but a small number in comparison with the
heathen, who sought their overthrow. In the dark times
of Antichrist, before the Reformation, they were but a
handful ; and yet their enemies could not overthrow them .
And commonly, the enemies of the church have not only
had the greatest number on their side, but they have had
the strength in other respects. They have commonly had
all the civil authority on their side. So in Egypt, the civil
authority was for the Egyptians, and the church were only
their slaves, and in their hands ; and yet they could not
overthrow them. And so it was in the time of Antiochus
Epiphanes, and Julian the apostate, the authority was all
on the side of the persecutors, and the church was under
their dominion ; yet all their cruelty could not extirpate
it. And for a great many ages, the civil authority was all
on the side of Antichrist, and the church seemed to be in
their hands.
And not only has the strength of its enemies been greater
than that of the church, but ordinarily the church has not
used what strength they have had in their own defence, but
have committed themselves wholly to God. In the time
of the Jewish persecutions before the destruction of Jeru
salem by the Romans, and of the heathen persecutions
before Constantine, the Christians did not pretend to make
any forcible resistance to their heathen persecutors. So it
has been for the most part under the popish persecutions ;
and yet they have never been able to overthrow the church
of God ; but it stands to this very day.
And this is still the more exceeding wonderful, if we
consider how often the church has been brought to the
brink of ruin, and the case seemed to be desperate. In
the time of the old world, when wickedness so prevailed
as that but one family was left, yet God wonderfully ap
peared, and overthrew the wicked world with a flood, and
preserved his church. At the Red sea, when Pharaoh and
his host thought they were quite sure of their prey, God
appeared, destroyed them, and delivered his church. Un
der the tenth and last heathen persecution, their persecutors
boasted that now they had done the business for the Chris
tians, and overthrown the christian church ; yet in the
midst of their triumph, the. christian church rises out of
the dust and prevails, and the heathen empire totally falls
before it. So when the christian church seemed ready to
be swallowed up by the Arian heresy, when Antichrist
rose and prevailed, and all the world wondered after the
beast; when the church for many hundred years was re

duced to a small number, and the power of the world was
engaged to destroy those little remnants ; yet they could
never fully accomplish their design, and at last God won
derfully revived his church by the Reformation, made it
to stand as it were on its feet in the sight of its enemies,
and raised it out of their reach. And when the popish
powers plotted the overthrow of the Reformed church, and
seemed just about to bring their matters to a conclusion,
then God wonderfully appeared for the deliverance of his
church, as at the Revolution by King William. Presently
after the darkest times, God has made his church most
gloriously to flourish.
If such a preservation of the church of God, from the
beginning of the world hitherto, attended with such cir
cumstances, is not sufficient to show a divine hand in
favour of it, what can be devised that would be sufficient ?
But if this be from the divine hand, then God owns the
church, and owns that revelation and those Scriptures on
which she is built ; and so it will follow, that their religion
is the true religion, or God's religion, and that the Scrip
tures, which they make their rule, are his word.
3. We may draw this further argument for the divine
authority of the Scriptures from what has been said, viz.
that God has fulfilled those things which are foretold in
the Scriptures. — 1 have already observed in general, as I
went along, how the prophecies of Scripture were fulfilled :
I shall now single out but two instances of the fulfilment
of scripture prophecy.
(1.) One is in preserving his church from being ruined.
I have just now shown what an evidence this is of the
divine authority of the Scriptures in itself considered ; I
now speak of it as a fulfilment of scripture prophecy. This
is abundantly foretold and promised in the Scriptures ;
particularly in the text. There it is foretold, that other
things shall fail, other kingdoms and monarchies, which
set themselves in opposition, should come to nothing :
" The moth should eat them up like a garment, and the
worm should eat them like wool." It is here foretold,
that God's covenant mercy to his church should continue
for ever ; and so it hath hitherto proved, though the church
has passed through so many dangers. The same is pro
mised, Isa. liv. 17. " No weapon that is formed against
thee, shall prosper ; and every tongue that shall rise against
thee in judgment, thou shalt condemn." And again, Isa.
xlix. 14 — 16. " But Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken
me, and my Lord hath forgotten me. Can a woman for
get her sucking child, that she should not have compassion
on the son of her womb ? yea, they may forget, yet will I
not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the
palms of my hands, thy walls are continually before me."
The same is promised in Isa. lix. 21. xliii. 1, 2. and Zech.
xii. 2, 3. So Christ promised the same, when he says,
" On this rock will I build my church, and the gates of
hell shall not prevail against it." Now if this be not from
God, and the Scriptures be not the word of God, and the
church of Christ built on the foundation of this word be
not of God, how could the persons who foretold this,
know it ? for if the church were not of God, it was a very
unlikely thing ever to come to pass. For they foretold
great opposition and dangers, that other kingdoms should
come to nought, and that the church should often be al
most swallowed up; and yet that the church should
remain. Now how could they foresee so unlikely a thing
but by divine inspiration ?
(2.) The other remarkable instance is, the fulfilment of
scripture prophecy, concerning Antichrist. The w_v that
this Antichrist should arise, is foretold, viz. by the falling
away of the christian church into a corrupt state : 2 Thess.
ii. 3. " For that day shall not come, except there come a
falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son
of perdition." — And it is prophesied, that this man of sin
should set himself up in the temple or visible church of
God, pretending to be vested with divine power, as head
ofthe church, (ver. 4.) And all this is exactly come to
pass in the church of Rome. Again, it is intimated, that
the rise of Antichrist should be gradual, (ver. 7.) " For
the mystery of iniquity doth already work : only he who
now letteth, will let, until he be taken out of the way."
This aiso came to pass. — Again, it is prophesied of this
mighty enemy of the christian church, that he should be a

604

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

great prince or monarch of the Roman empire : so he is
represented in Daniel as a horn of the fourth beast, or
fourth monarchy, as the angel himself explains it, (Daniel
vii.) This also came to pass.  Yea it is prophesied, that
the seat of this pretended vicar of God, and head of the
church, should be the city of Rome itself. It is said ex-
Eressly, that the spiritual whore, or false church, should
ave her seat on seven mountains or hills ; Rev. xvii. 9.
"The seven heads are seven mountains, on which the
woman sitteth :" and (ver. 18.) " The woman which thou
sawest, is that great city, which reigneth over the kings of
the earth ;" which it is certain was at that time the city of
Rome. This prophecy also has come to pass.
Further, it was prophesied, that this Antichrist should
reign over peoples, and multitudes, and nations, and
tongues, Rev. xvii. 15. and that all the world should
wonder after the beast, Rev. xiii. 3. This also was verified
in the church of Rome. It was foretold that this Antichrist
should be remarkable for the sin of pride, pretending
to great things, and assuming very much to himself:
(2 Thess. ii. 4.) " That he should exalt himself above all
that is called God, or that is worshipped." So Rev. xiii.
5. " And there was given unto him a mouth speaking
great things, and blasphemies." Dan. vii. 8, 20. the little
horn is said to have a mouth speaking very great things,
and his look to be more stout than his fellows. This also
was verified in the pope, and the church of Rome.  It
was also prophesied, that Antichrist should be an exceed
ing cruel persecutor, Dan. vii. 21 . The same hom " made
war with the saints, and prevailed against them :'' Rev.
xiii. 7. " And it was given unto him to make war with the
saints, and to overcome them." Rev. xvii. 6. " And I saw
the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with
the blood of the martyrs of Jesus." This also came to
pass in the church of Rome. — It was foretold, that Anti
christ should excel in craft and policy : Dan. vii. 8. "In
this horn were eyes like the eyes of a man." And ver. 20.
" Even of that born that had eyes." This also marks the
church of Rome.  It was foretold, that the kings of
Christendom should be subject to antichrist : Rev. xvii.
12, 13. " And the ten horns which thou sawest, are ten
kings, which have received no kingdom as yet ; but re
ceived power as kings one hour with the beast. These
have one mind, and shall give their power and strength
unto the beast." This also came to pass with respect to
the Romish church.  It was foretold, that he should per
form pretended miracles and lying wonders : 2 Thess. ii.
9. " Whose coming is after the working of Satan, with all
power, and signs, and lying wonders." Rev. xiii. 13, 14.
" And he doth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come
down from heaven on the earth, in the sight of men, and
deceiveth them that dwell on the earth, by the means of
those miracles which he had power to do in the sight of
the beast." This also designates the church of Rome.
Fire coming down from heaven, seems to have reference to
their excommunications, which were dreaded like fire from
heaven.  It was foretold that he should forbid to marry,
and to abstain from meats : 1 Tim. iv. 3. " Forbidding to
marry, and commanding to abstain from meats, which
God hath created to be received with thanksgiving."
This also is exactly fulfilled in the church of Rome. 
It was foretold that he should be very rich, and arrive at a
great degree of earthly splendour and glory : Rev. xvii. 4.
" And the woman was arrayed in purple, and scarlet
colour, and decked with gold and precious stones, and
pearrl, having a golden cup in her hand." And so chap.
xviii. 7, 12, 13, 16. What can more expressly describe
the church of Rome ?  It was foretold, that he should
forbid any to buy or sell, but those that had his mark :
Rev. xiii. 17. " And that no man might buy or sell, save
he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the
number of his name." This also is fulfilled in the church
of Rome.  It was foretold that he should sell the souls
of men, Rev. xviii. 13. where, in enumerating the articles
of his merchandise, the souls qf men are specifically men
tioned as one. Is not this also exactly fulfilled in the
same church?  It was foretold, that Antichrist would
not suffer the bodies of God's people to be buried : Rev.
xi. 8, 9. " And their dead bodies shall lie in the street of
the great city, — and they — shall not suffer their dead

bodies to be put in graves." How literally has this come
to pass with respect to the church of Rome !  1 might
mention many other things which were foretold of Anti
christ, and show that they were fulfilled most exactly in
the pope and the church of Rome. How strong an argu
ment is this, that the Scriptures are the word of God !
II. From what has been said, we may learn what the
spirit of true Christians is, viz. a spirit of suffering. Seeing
God has so ordered it in his providence, tnat his church
should for so long a time be in a suffering state, yea, often
in a state of extreme suffering, we may conclude, that the
spirit of the true church is a suffering spirit, otherwise
God never would have ordered for it so much suffering ;
for doubtless God accommodates the state and circum
stances of the church to the spirit that he has given her.
No wonder therefore that Christ so much inculcated upon
his disciples, that they must deny themselves, and take up
their cross, if they would follow him.
And what spirit has the church shown and exercised
under her sufferings ? She has actually, under those terrible
persecutions through which she has passed, rather chosen
to undergo those dreadful torments, and to sell all for the
pearl of great price, to suffer all that her bitterest enemies
could inflict, than to renounce Christ and his religion.
History affords a great number of remarkable instances,
sets in view a great cloud of witnesses. This abundantly
confirms the necessity of possessing a spirit to sell all for
Christ, to renounce our own ease, our own worldly profit,
our honour, and our all, for him, and for the gospel.
Let us inquire whether we are of such a spirit. How
does it prove upon trial? Does it prove in fact that we are
willing to deny ourselves, and renounce our own worldly
interest, and to pass through the trials to which we are
called in providence? Alas, how small are our trials,
compared with those of many of our fellow-Christians in
former ages 1 And I would on this occasion apply that
in Jer. xii. 5. " If thou hast run with the footmen, and
they have wearied thee, then how canst thou contend with
horses?" If you have not been able to endure the light
trials to which you have been called, how would you De
able to endure the far greater trials to which the church has
been called in former ages ? Every true Christian has
the spirit qf a martyr, and would suffer as a martyr, if he
were called to it in providence.
III. Hence we learn what great reason we have as
suredly to expect the fulfilment of what yet remains to be
fulfilled of things foretold in Scripture. The Scriptures
foretell many great things yet to be fulfilled before the
end ofthe world ; but what great difficulties seem to be in.
the way ! We seem at present to be very far from such a
state as is foretold in the Scriptures ; but yet we have
abundant reason to expect, that these things, however
seemingly difficult, will be accomplished in their season.
We see the faithfulness of God to his promises hitherto ;
how true he has been to his church, and how he has re
membered his mercy from generation to generation. We
may say concerning what God has done hitherto for his
church, as Joshua said to the children of Israel, Josh.
xxiii. 14. " That not one thing hath failed of all that the
Lord our God hath spoken concerning his church ;" but
all things are hitherto come to pass agreeable to the divine
prediction. This should strengthen our faith in those
promises, and encourage us, and stir us up to earnest
prayer to God for the accomplishment of the great and
glorious things which yet remain to be fulfilled.

PART VII.
THE SUCCESS OF REDEMPTION FROM THE PRESENT TIME
TO THE FALL OF ANTICHRIST.
I come now to show how the success of Christ's re
demption will be carried on from the present time, till
Antichrist is fallen, and Satan's visible kingdom on earth is
destroyed. — With respect to this space of time, we have
nothing to guide us but the prophecies of Scripture.

Part VII.

TO THE FALL OF ANTICHRIST.

605

Through most of the time from the fall of man to the de
struction of Jerusalem by the Romans, we had scripture
history to guide us ; and from thence to the present time
we had prophecy, together with the accomplishment of it in
providence, as related in human histories. But hencefor
ward we have prophecy alone to guide us. And here I
would pass by those things that are only conjectured, or
that are surmised by some from those prophecies which are
doubtful in their interpretation, and shall insist only on
those things which are more evident.
We know not what particular events are to come to pass
before that glorious work of God's Spirit begins, by which
Satan's kingdom is to be overthrown. By the consent of
most divines, there are but few things, if any at all, fore
told to be accomplished before the beginning of that glori
ous work of God. But some think that the slaying of the
witnesses, (Rev. xi. 7, 8.) is not yet accomplished ; and
there is a difference of opinion with respect to the pouring
out of the seven vials, (Rev. xvi.) how many are already,
or how many remain to be poured out. A late expositor,
indeed, whom I have before mentioned, seems to make it
evident, that all are already poured out but two, viz.
the sixth on the river Euphrates, and the seventh into
the air. I will not now stand to inquire, what is intended
by the pouring out of the sixth vial on the river Euphrates,
that the way of the kings of the east may be prepared ; but
would only say, that it seems to be something immediately
preparatory to the destruction of spiritual Babylon, as the
drying up of the river Euphrates, which ran through the
midst of old Babylon, was what prepared the way of the
kings of the Medes and Persians, (tne kings of the east,)
to come in under the walls, and destroy that city.
But whatever this be, it does not appear that it is any
thing which shall be accomplished before that work of
God's Spirit is begun, by which, as it goes on, Satan's
visible kingdom on earth shall be utterly overthrown. And
therefore 1 would proceed directly to consider what the
Scripture reveals concerning the work of God itself, by
which he will bring about this great event, as being the
next thing to be accomplished that we are certain of from
the prophecies of Scripture.
I. I would observe some things in general concern
ing it.
1 1. We have all reason to conclude from the Scriptures,
that just before this work of God begins, it will be a very
dark time with respect to the interests of religion in the
world. It has been so before preceding glorious revivals
of religion : when Christ came, it was an exceeding dege
nerate time among the Jews ; and so it was a very dark
time before the Reformation. And not only so, but it
seems to be foretold in Scripture, that it shall be a time of
but little religion, when Christ shall come to set up his
kingdom in the world. Thus when Christ spake of his
coming, to encourage his elect, who cry to him day and
night, in Luke xviii. 8. he adds, " Nevertheless, when the
Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth '!"
Which seems to denote a great prevalency of infidelity
just before Christ's coming to avenge his suffering church.
— Though Christ's coming at the last judgment is not here
to be excluded, yet there seems to be a special respect to
his coming to deliver his church from their long-continued
suffering, persecuted state, which is accomplished only at
his coming at the destruction of Antichrist. Then will be
accomplished the following passages, Rev. vi. 10. " How
long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and
avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth '!" and
Rev. xviii. 20. " Rejoice over her, thou heaven, and ye
holy apostles, and prophets, for God hath avenged you
on her."
It is now a very dark time with respect to the interests
of religion, wherein there is but a little faith, and a great
prevailing of infidelity on the earth. There is now a re
markable fulfilment of that in 2 Pet. iii. 3. " Knowing
this, that there shall come in the last days scoffers, walk
ing after their own lusts." And so Jude 17, 18. " But,
beloved, remember ye the words which were spoken be
fore of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ ; how that
they told you there should be mockers in the last time,
who should walk after their own ungodly lusts." Whether
the times shall be any darker still, or how much darker,

before the beginning of this glorious work of God, we
cannot tell.
2. There is no reason from the word of God to think
any other, than that this great work of God will be
wrought, though very swiftly, yet gradually. As the chil
dren of Israel were gradually brought out of the Baby
lonish captivity, first one company, and then another, and
gradually rebuilt their city and temple ; and as the heathen
Roman empire was destroyed by a gradual, though a very
swift, prevalency of the gospel ; so, though there are many
things which seem to hold forth that the work of God
would be exceeding swift, — and many great and wonder
ful events should very suddenly be brought to pass, and
some great parts of Satan's visible kingdom should have a
very sudden fell,— yet all will not be accomplished at once,
as by some great miracle, like the resurrection of the dead.
But this work will be accomplished by means, by the
preaching of the gospel, and the use of the ordinary means
of grace, and so shall be gradually brought to pass. Some
shall be converted, and be the means of others conversion.
God's Spirit shall be poured out first to raise up instru
ments, and then those instruments shall be used with suc
cess. And doubtless one nation shall be enlightened and
converted, and one false religion and false way of worship
exploded, after another. By the representation in Dan. ii. 3,
4. the stone cut out of the mountain without hands gradual
ly grows. So Christ teaches us, that the kingdom of heaven
is like a grain of mustard seed, Matt. xiii. 31, 32. and like
leaven hid in three measures of meal, ver. 33. The same
representation we have in Mark iv. 26, 27, 28. and in the
vision of the waters of the sanctuary, Ezek. xlvii. — The
Scriptures hold forth, that there should be several succes
sive great and glorious events by which this glorious work
should be accomplished. The angel speaking to the pro
phet Daniel of those glorious times, mentions two glorious
periods, at the end of which glorious things shall be ac
complished : Dan. xii. 11. " And from the time that the
daily sacrifice shall be taken away, and the abomination
that maketh desolate set up, there shall be a thousand two
hundred and ninety days." But then he adds in the next
verse, " Blessed is he that waiteth, and cometh to the
thousand three hundred and five and thirty days ;" inti
mating, that something very glorious should be accom
plished at the end of the former period, but something
much more glorious at the end of the latter.
II. I now proceed to show how this glorious work shall
be accomplished.
1. The Spirit of God shall be gloriously poured out for
the wonderful revival and propagation of religion. This
great work shall be accomplished, not by the authority of
princes, nor by the wisdom of learned men, but by God's
Holy Spirit : Zech. iv. 6, 7. " Not by might, nor by power,
but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts. Who art thou,
O great mountain ? before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a
plain, and he shall bring forth the head-stone thereof with
shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto it." So the prophet
Ezekiel, speaking of this great work of God, says, chap.
xxxix. 29. " Neither will I hide my face any more from
them ; for I have poured out my Spirit on the house of
Israel, saith the Lord God." We know not where this
pouring out of the Spirit shall begin, or whether in
many places at once ; or whether, what hath alreadv
taken place, be not some forerunner and beginning of
it. This pouring out of the Spirit of God, when it is be
gun, shall soon bring great multitudes to forsake that vice
and wickedness which now so generally prevails ; and
shall cause that vital religion, which is now so despised
and laughed at in the world, to revive. The work of con
version shall break forth, and go on in such a manner as
never has been hitherto ; agreeable to Isa. xliv. 3, 4, 5.
 God, by pouring out his Holy Spirit, will furnish men
to be glorious instruments of carrying on this work ; will
fill them with knowledge and wisdom, and fervent zeal
for the promoting the kingdom of Christ, and the salvation
of souls, and propagating the gospel in the world. The
gospel shall begin to be preached with abundantly greater
clearness and power than had heretofore been. This great
work of God shall be brought to pass by the preaching ofthe
gospel, as is represented in Rev. xiv. 6, 7, 8. that before

606

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

Babylon falls, the gospel shall be powerfully preached
and propagated in the world.
This was typified of old by the sounding of the silver
trumpets in Israel in the beginning of their jubilee : Lev.
xxv. 9. " Then shalt thou cause the trumpet of the jubi
lee to sound on the tenth day of the seventh month ; on
the day of atonement shall ye make the trumpet sound
throughout all your land. The glorious times which are
approaching, are the church's jubilee, which shall be in
troduced by the sounding of the silver trumpet of the
gospel, as is foretold in Isa. xxvii. 13. " And it shall come
to pass in that day, that the great trumpet shall be blown,
and they shall come which were ready to perish in the land
of Assyria, and the outcasts of the land of Egypt, and
shall worship the Lord in the holy mount at Jerusalem."
And there shall be a glorious pouring out of the Spirit
with this clear and powerful preaching of the gospel, to
make it successful for reviving those holy doctrines of re
ligion which are now chiefly ridiculed in the world, and
turning many from heresy, from popery, and from other
false religions ; and also for turning many from their vice
and profaneness, and for bringing vast multitudes savingly
home to Christ.
The work of conversion shall go on in a wonderful
manner, and spread more and more. Many shall flow to
gether to the goodness of the Lord, one multitude after
another continually, as in Isa. Ix. 4, 5. " Lift up thine
eyes round about, and see ; all they gather themselves to
gether, they come to thee; thy sons shall come from far,
and thy daughters shall be nursed at thy side. Then
thou shalt see and flow together." And so ver. 8. "Who
are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their
windows 1" And as the gospel shall be preached to every
tongue, and kindred, and nation, and people, before the
fall of Antichrist ; so we may suppose, that it will be
gloriously successful to bring in multitudes from every
nation : and shall spread more and more with wonderful
swiftness. (See Isa. lxvi. 7 — 9.)
2. This pouring out ofthe Spirit of God will not affect
the overthrow of Satan's visible kingdom, till there has
first been a violent and mighty opposition made. In this
the Scripture is plain, that when Christ is thus gloriously
coming forth, when the destruction of Antichrist is ready
at hand, and Satan's kingdom begins to totter, the powers
of the kingdom of darkness will rise up, and mightily ex
ert themselves. Thus after the pouring out of the sixth
vial, which was to dry up the river Euphrates, to prepare
the way for the destruction of spiritual Babylon, (Rev.
xvi.) the powers of hell will be mightily alarmed, and will
stir up themselves to oppose the kingdom of Christ, be
fore the seventh vial shall be poured out, which shall give
them a final and complete overthrow. The beloved dis
ciple informs us (ver. 13, 14.) that "three unclean spirits
like frogs shall go forth unto the kings of the earth, to
gather them together to the battle of the great day of God
Almighty." This seems to be the last and greatest effort
of Satan to save his kingdom from being overthrown ;
though perhaps he may make as great towards the end of
the world to regain it.
When the Spirit begins to be so gloriously poured
forth, when the devil sees such multitudes flocking to
Christ in one nation and another, when the foundations and
pillars of his kingdom are ready to come to swift and sud
den destruction, all hell will be greatly alarmed. Satan
has ever had a dread of having his kingdom overthrown,
and has been doing great works to prevent it, especially
since the day of Constantine the Great. To this end he
set up those mighty kingdoms of Antichrist and Mahomet,
and brought in all the heresies, superstitions, and corrupt
opinions in the world. But when he sees all begin to fail,
it will rouse him exceedingly. If Satan of old dreaded
being cast out of the Roman empire, how much more
does he dread being cast out of the whole world !
It seems, in this last great opposition, all the forces of
Antichrist, and Mahometanism, and heathenism, will be
united ; all the forces of Satan's visible kingdom through
the whole world of mankind. And therefore it is said,
that " spirits of devils shall go forth unto the kings of the
earth, and of the whole world, to gather them together to
the battle of the great day of God Almighty." And these

spirits are said to come out of the mouth of the dragon,
and out of the mouth of the beast, and out of the mouth
of the false prophet ; i- e. there shall be the spirit of
poperyj the spirit of Mahometanism, and the spirit of
heathenism all united. By the beast is meant Antichrist ;
by the dragon, in this book, is commonly meant the devil,
as he reigns over his heathen kingdom : by the false pro
phet, is sometimes meant the pope and his clergy ; but
here an eye seems to be had to Mahomet, whom his fol
lowers call the great prophet of God. This will be as it
were the dying struggles of the old serpent ; a battle
wherein he will fight as one that is almost desperate.
We know not particularly in what manner this opposi
tion shall be made. It is represented as a battle ; it is
called the battle ofthe great day of God Almighty. There
will be some way or other a mighty struggle between
Satan's kingdom and the church, and probably in all ways
of opposition that can be ; and doubtless great opposition
by external force. The princes of the world who are on
tlie devil's side shall join hand in hand ; for it is said,
" The kings of the earth are gathered together to battle,"
Rev. xix. 19. And probably there will be great opposi
tion by subtle disputers and carnal reasoning, persecution,
virulent reproaches, craft, and subtlety. The devil now
doubtless will ply his skill, as well as strength, to the ut
most ; and those who belong to his kingdom, will every
where be stirred up, and engaged to make an united
violent opposition against this holy religion, which they
see prevailing so mightily in the world.  But,
3. Christ and his church shall in this battle obtain a
complete and entire victory over their enemies. They
shall be totally routed and overthrown in this their last
effort. When the powers of hell and earth are thus
gathered together against Christ, and his armies shall come
forth against them by his word and Spirit, in how august
and glorious a manner is this advance of Christ with his
church described, Rev. xix. 11, &c. And to represent
how great the victory they should obtain, and how mighty
the overthrow of their enemies, it is said, (ver. 17, 18.) that
" all the fowls of heaven are called together, to eat the great
supper given them, of the flesh of kings, and captains,
and mighty men," &c. and then, in the following verses,
we have a distinct account of the victory and overthrow.
In this victory, the seventh vial shall be poured out-
It is said, Rev. xvi. 16. of the great army that should be
gathered together against Christ: " And he gathered them
together info a place called in the Hebrew tongue, Arma
geddon;" then it is said, " And the seventh angel poured
out his vial into the air ; and there came a great voice out
of the temple of heaven, from the throne, saying, It is
done." Now the business is done for Satan and his
adherents. When this victory is obtained, all is in effect
done. Satan's last and greatest opposition is conquered ;
all his measures are defeated ; the pillars of his kingdom
broken asunder, and will fall of course. The devil is
utterly baffled and confounded, and knows not what else
to do. He now sees his antichristian, Mahometan, and
heathenish kingdoms through the world, all tumbling
down. He and his most powerful instruments are taken
captive. Now that is in effect done, for which the church
of God had been so long waiting and hoping, and so earn
estly crying to God, saying, "How long, O Lord, holy
and true ?" ,
The angel who set his right foot on the sea, and his left
foot on the earth, lift up his hand to heaven, and swore
by him that liveth for ever and ever, Src. that when the
seventh angel should come to sound, the time should be
no longer. — And now the time is come ; now the seventh
trumpet sounds, and the seventh vial is poured out, both
together; intimating, that now all is finished as to the
overthrow of Satan's visible kingdom on earth. This
victory shall be by far the greatest that ever was obtained
over Satan and his adherents. By this blow, with which
the stone cut out of the mountain without hands shall
strike the image of gold, and silver, and brass, and iron,
and clay, it shall all be broken to pieces. This will be a
finishing blow to the image, so that it shall become as the
chaff of the summer threshing-floor.
Iu this victory will be a most glorious display of divine
power. Christ shall therein appear in the character of

Part VII.

TO THE FALL OF ANTICHRIST.

607

King of kings, and Lord of lords, as in Rev. xix. 16.
Now Christ shall dash his enemies, even the strongest and
proudest of them, in pieces ; as a potter's vessel shall they
be broken to shivers. — Then shall strength be shown out
of weakness, and Christ shall cause his church to thresh
the mountains, as in Isa. xii. 15. — " Behold, I will make
thee a new sharp threshing-instrument having teeth : thou
shalt thresh the mountains, and beat them small, and shalt
make the hills as chaff." And then shall be fulfilled Isa.
xiii. 13—15.
III. Consequent on this victory, Satan's visible kingdom
on earth shall be destroyed. When Satan is conquered
in this last battle, the church of Christ will have easy
work of it; as when Joshua and the children of Israel
had obtained that great victory over the five kings of the
Amorites. When God sent great hail-stones on their
euemies, they had easy work of subduing the cities and
country to which they belonged. So it was also after the
other great battle that Joshua had with a great multitude
at the waters of Merom. After this glorious victory of
Christ and his church over their enemies, the chief powers
of Satan's kingdom, they shall destroy that kingdom in all
those cities and countries to which they belonged. After
this the word of God shall have a speedy and swift progress
through the earth ; as it is said, that on the pouring out of
the seventh vial, " the cities of the nations fell, and every
island fled away, and the mountains were not found," Rev.
xvi. 19, 20. — When once the stone cut out of the mountain
without hands had broken the image in pieces, it was easy
to abolish all the remains of it. The very wind will carry
it away as the chaff of the summer threshing-floor. Be
cause Satan's visible kingdom on earth shall now be de
stroyed, therefore it is said, that the seventh vial by which
this shall be done, shall be poured out into the air; which
is represented in Scripture as the special seat of his king
dom ; for he is called " the prince of the power of the air,"
Eph. ii. 2. Now is come the time for punishing levia
than, that piercing serpent, of which we read in Isa. xxvii.
1. " In that day the Lord with his sore and great and
strong sword, shall punish leviathan the piercing serpent,
even leviathan, that crooked serpent, and he shall slay the
dragon that is in the sea."
Concerning this overthrow of Satan's visible kingdom on
earth, I would show wherein it will chiefly consist, with
its extent and universality.
1. I would show wherein this overthrow of Satan's king
dom will chiefly consist. I shall mention the particular
things in which it will consist, without pretending to de
termine in what order they shall come to pass, or which
shall be accomplished first, or whether they shall be ac
complished together.
(1.) Heresies, infidelity, and superstition, among those
who have been brought up under the light of the gospel,
will then be abolished ; and particularly deism, which is
now so bold and confident in infidelity, shall be driven
away, and vanish to nothing. All shall agree in the same
great and important doctrines of the gospel ; Zech. xiv. 9.
" And the Lord shall be king over all the earth : in that
day shall there be one Lord, and his name one." Then
shall be abolished all superstitious modes of worship, and
all shall cordially agree in worshipping God in his own
way : Jer. xxxii. 39. " And I will give them one heart,
and one way, that they may fear me for ever, for the good
of them, and of their children after them."
(2.) The kingdom of Antichrist shall be utterly over
thrown. His dominion has been much brought down
already by the vial poured out on his throne in the Re
formation ; but then it shall be utterly destroyed. Then
shall be proclaimed, " Babylon is fallen, is fallen." When
the seventh angel sounds, "the time, times, and half a time,
shall be out ; and the time shall be no longer." Then
shall be accomplished concerning Antichrist the things
which are written (Rev. xviii.) of the spiritual Babylon,
the idolatrous Roman government, that has for so many
ages been the great enemy of the christian church, first
under heathenism, then under popery.— That proud city
which lifted herself up to heaven, in her pride and haughti
ness; that cruel, bloody city, shall come down to the
ground. Then shall that , be fulfilled, Isa. xxvi. 5. "For
Ire bringeth down them that dwell on high, the lofty city

he layeth it low, he layeth it low, even to the ground, he
bringeth it even to the dust." She shall be thrown down
with violence, like a great millstone cast into the sea, and
shall be found no more at all, and shall become a habit
ation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a
cage of every unclean and hateful bird. Now shall she
be stripped of all her glory, and riches, and ornaments,
and shall be cast out as an abominable branch, and shall
be trodden down as the mire of the streets. All her policy
and craft, in which she so abounded, shall not save her.
All the strength and wisdom of this great whore shall fail
her, and there shall be none to help her. The kings of
the earth, who before gave their power and strength to the
beast, shall now hate the whore, and shall make herdeso^
late and naked, and shall eat her flesh, and bum her with
fire, Rev. xvii. 16.
(3.) Satan's Mahometan kingdom shall be utterly over
thrown. The locusts and horsemen in the 9th of Revela
tion, have their appointed and limited time set them there,
and the false prophet shall be taken and destroyed. And
then— though Mahometanism has been so vastly propa
gated in the world, and is upheld by such a great empire
— this smoke, which has ascended out of the bottomless
pit, shall be utterly scattered before the light of that glorious
day, and the Mahometan empire shall fell at the sound of
the great trumpet which shall then be blown.
(4.) Jewish infidelity shall then be overthrown. How
ever obstinate they have been now for above seventeen
hundred years in their rejection of Christ, and however
rare have been the instances of individual conversions, ever
since the destruction of Jerusalem — but they have, against
the plain teachings of their own prophets, continued to ap
prove ofthe cruelty of their forefathers in crucifying Christ
— yet, when this day comes, the thick vail that blinds their
eyes shall be removed, 2 Cor. iii. 16. and divine grace shall
melt and renew their hard hearts, " and they shall look on
him whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him
as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness
as one that is in bitterness for his first-born," Zech. xii.
10, &c. And then shall the house of Israel be saved : the
Jews in all their dispersions shall cast away their old in
fidelity, and shall have their hearts wonderfullv changed,
and abhor themselves for their past unbelief and ob
stinacy. They shall flow together to the blessed Jesus,
penitently, humbly, and joyfully owning him as their glori
ous King and only Saviour, and shall with all their hearts,
as with one heart and voice, declare his praises unto other
nations. Nothing is more certainly foretold than this national
conversion of the Jews, in Rom. xi. There are also many
passages of the Old Testament which cannot be interpret
ed in any other sense, which I cannot now stand to men
tion. Besides the prophecies of the calling of the Jews,
we have a remarkable providential seal of the fulfilment of
this great event, by a kind of continual miracle, viz. their
being preserved a distinct nation in such a dispersed con
dition for above sixteen hundred years. The world affords1
nothing else like it. There is undoubtedly a remarkable
hand of providence in it. When they shall be called, that
ancient people, who alone were God's people for so long a
time, shall be his people again, never to be rejected more.
They shall then be gathered into one fold together with
the Gentiles ; and so also shall the remains of the ten
tribes, wherever they be, and though they have been re
jected much longer than the Jews, be brought in with their
brethren. The prophecies of Hosea especially seem to
hold this forth, that in the future glorious times of the
church, both Judah and Ephraim, or Judah and the ten
tribes, shall be brought in together, and shall be united as
one people, as they formerlv were under David and Solo
mon ; (Hos. i. 11, &c.) — Though we do not know the
time in which this conversion of Israel will come to pass ;
vet thus much we mav determine by Scripture, that it will
be before the glory of the Gentile part of the church shalt
be fully accomplished ; because it is said, that their com
ing in shall be life from the dead to the Gentiles, (Rom.
xi. 12, 15.)
(5.) Then shall also Satan's heathenish kingdom be
overthrown. Gross heathenism now possesses a great part
of the earth, and there are supposed to be more heathens

608

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

now in the world, than of all other professions taken toge
ther. But then the heathen nations shall be enlightened
with the glorious gospel. There will be a wonderful spirit
of pity towards them, and zeal for their instruction and
conversion put into multitudes, and many shall go forth
and carry the gospel unto them. Then shall the joyful
sound be heard among them, and the Sun of righteousness
shall arise with his glorious light shining on those vast
regions of the earth that have been covered with hea
thenish darkness for many thousand years. Many of
them doubtless ever since the times of Moses and Abra
ham, have lain thus in a miserable condition, under the
cruel tyranny of the devil, who has all this while blinded
and befooled them, domineered over them, and made a
prey of them. Now the glad tidings of the gospel shall
sound there, and they shall be brought out of darkness
into marvellous light.
It is promised, that heathenism shall thus be destroyed
in many places. God has said, That the gods that have
not made these heavens and this earth, shall perish from
the earth, and from under these heavens, Jer. x. 1 1 . and
that he will utterly abolish idols, Isa. ii. 18.  Then
shall the many nations of Africa, who now seem to be in
a state but little above the beasts, and in many respects
much below them, be visited with glorious light, and de
livered from all their darkness, and shall become a civil,
christian, understanding, and holy people. — Then shall
the vast continent of America, which now in great part is
covered with barbarous ignorance and cruelty, be every
where covered with glorious gospel-light and christian
love ; and instead of worshipping the devil as now they
do, they shall serve God, and praises shall be sung every
where to the Lord Jesus Christ, the blessed Saviour of the
world. So we may expect it will be in that great and po
pulous part of the world, the East Indies, which are now
mostly inhabited by the worshippers of the devil. Then
the kingdom of Christ will be established in those conti
nents which have been more lately discovered towards the
north and south poles, where men differ very little from the
wild beasts, except in impiety. The same will be the case
with respect to those countries which have never yet been
discovered. Thus will be gloriously fulfilled Isa. xxxv. 1.
" The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for
them : and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose."
(See also ver. 6, 7.)
2. Having thus shown wherein this overthrow of Satan's
kingdom will consist, I come now to observe its universal
extent. The visible kingdom of Satan shall be overthrown,
and the kingdom of Christ set up on the ruins of it, every
where throughout the whole habitable globe. Now shall
the promise made to Abraham be fulfilled, That in him
and in his seed all the families qf the earth shall be blessed;
and Christ now shall become the desire of all nations,
agreeable to Haggai ii. 7.— Now the kingdom of Christ
shall in the most strict and literal sense be extended to all
nations, and the whole earth. There are many passages
of Scripture that can be understood in no other sense.
What can be more universal than Isa. xi. 9. " For the
earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the
waters cover the sea." As much as to say, As there is no
part of the channel or cavity of the sea, but what is
covered with water ; so there shall be no part of the world
of mankind but what shall be covered with the knowledge
of God. So it is foretold in Isa. xiv. 22. that all the ends
ofthe earth shall look to Christ, and be saved. And to
show that the words are to be understood in the most
universal sense, it is said in the next verse, "I have sworn
by myself, the word is gone out of my mouth in right
eousness, and shall not return, that unto me every knee
shall bow, every tongue shall swear."— So the most uni
versal expression is used, Dan. vii. 27. " And the kingdom
and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the
whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the saints of
the most high God."
When the devil was cast out of the Roman empire,
because that was the highest and principal part of the
world, and the other nations that were left were low and
mean in comparison, it was represented as Satan's being
cast out of heaven to the earth, Rev. xii. 9. ; but it is re
presented that he shall be cast out of the earth too, and

shut up in hell, Rev. xx. 1, 2, 3. — This is the greatest re
volution by far that ever came to pass : therefore it is said
in Rev. xvi. 17, 18. that on the pouring out of the
seventh vial, " there was a great earthquake, such as was
not since men were upon earth, so mighty an earthquake
and so great." And this is the third great dispensation of
Providence which is in Scripture compared to Christ's
coming to judgment, Rev. xvi. 15. There, after the sixth
vial, and after the devil's armies were gathered together
to their great battle, and just before Christ's glorious vic
tory over them, it is said, " Behold I come quickly ;
blessed is he that watcheth, and keepeth his garments."
So it is called Christ's coming, 2 Thess. ii. 8. Speaking
of Antichrist it is said, " And then shall that Wicked be
revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of
his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his
coming." See also Dan. vii. 13, 14. where Christ's com
ing to set up his kingdom on earth, and to destroy Anti
christ, is called coming with clouds of heaven. And this is
more like Christ's last coming to judgment, than any of
the preceding dispensations which are so called. The
dispensation is so much greater and more universal, and
so more like the day of judgment, which respects the
whole world. The great spiritual resurrection of the
church of God accompanying it, resembles the general re
surrection at the end of the world more than any other.
(See Rev. xx. 4.)
Terrible judgments and fearful destruction shall now be
executed on God's enemies. There will doubtless at the
introducing of this dispensation be a visible and awful
hand of God against blasphemers, deists, obstinate here
tics, and other enemies of Christ, terribly destroying them,
with remarkable tokens of wrath and vengeance. More
especially will this dispensation be attended with terrible
judgments on Antichrist; the cruel persecutors who be
long to the church of Rome, shall in a most awful man
ner be destroyed ; which is compared to a casting of
Antichrist into the burning flame, Dan. vii. 11. and to
casting him alive into the lake that bums with fire and
brimstone, Rev. xix. 20.
Then shall this cruel persecuting church suffer those
judgments from God, which shall be far more dreadful
than her persecutions of the saints, agreeable to Rev. xviii.
6, 7.  The judgments which God shall execute on the
enemies of the church, are so great, that they are com
pared to God's sending great hail-stones from heaven upon
them, every one of the weight of a talent, as it is said on
the pouring out of the seventh vial, Rev. xvi. 21. " And
there fell upon men a great hail out of heaven, every stone
about the weight of a talent : and men blasphemed God,
because of the plague of the hail ; for the plague thereof
was exceeding great." And now shall be that treading of
the wine-press spoken of, Rev. xiv. 19, 20.
This shall put an end to the church's suffering state,
and shall be attended with their glorious and joyful
praises. The church's afflicted state has been continued,
excepting some short intermissions, from the resurrection
of Christ to this time ; but now shall a final end be put
to her suffering state. Indeed after this, near the end of
the world, the church shall be greatly threatened ; but it
is said, it shall be but for a little season, Rev. xx. 3. for as
the times of the church's rest have been but short, before
the long day of her afflictions are at an end ; so whatever
affliction she may suffer after this, will be very short. In
every other respect, the day of the church's afflictions and
persecution shall now come to a final end. The Scrip
tures, in many places, speak of this time as the end of the
suffering state of the church. So Isa. li. 22. " Behold, I
have taken out of thine hand the cup of trembling, even
the dregs of the cup of my fury, thou shalt no more
drink it again." Then shall be proclaimed to the church,
Isa. xl. 1, 2. "Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith
your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry
unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her ini
quity is pardoned : for she hath received of the Lord's
hand double for all her sins." Also Isa. liv. 8, 9. and lx.
20. belong to this time. " The Lord shall be thine ever
lasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended."
And so Zeph. iii. 15. " The Lord hath taken away thy
judgments, he hath cast out thine enemy : the King of

Part VIII.

TO THE END OF TIME.

C09

Israel, even tbe Lord, is in the midst of thee : thou shalt
not see evil any more."
The time before this, had been the church's sowing-time,
wherein she sowed in tears and in blood; but now is her
harvest, wherein she will come again rejoicing, bringing
her sheaves with her. Now the time of travail of the
woman clothed with the sun is at an end ; now she hath
brought forth her son : for this glorious setting up of the
kingdom of Christ through the world, is what the church
had been in travail for, with such terrible pangs, for so
many ages : Isa. xxvi. 17. — " Like as a woman with child
that draweth near the time of her delivery, is in pain, and
crieth out in her pangs ; so have we been in thy sight, O
Lord." (See Isa. be. 20. and lxi. 10, 11.) And now the
church shall forget her sorrow, since a man-child is born
into the world : now succeed her joyful praise and tri
umph. Her praises shall then go up to God from all parts
of the earth; (as Isa. xiii. 10 — 12.) and praise shall not
only fill the earth, but also heaven. The church on earth,
and the church in heaven, shall both gloriously rejoice and
praise God, as with one heart, on that occasion. Without
doubt it will be a time of very distinguished joy and praise
among the holy prophets and apostles, and the other saints
in heaven : Rev. xviii. 20. " Rejoice over her, thou heaven,
and ye holy apostles and prophets, for God hath avenged
you on her." See how universal these praises will be in
Isa. xliv. 23. " Sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath done
it : shout, ye lower parts of the earth : break forth into
singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein : for
the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in
Israel." See what joyful praises are sung to God on this
occasion by the universal church in heaven and earth, in
the beginning of the 19th chapter of Revelation.
This dispensation is above all preceding ones like Christ's
coming tojudgment, in that it so puts an end to the former
state ofthe world, and introduces the everlasting kingdom
of Christ. Now Satan's visible kingdom shall be over
thrown, after it had stood ever since the building of Babel ;
the old heavens and the old earth shall in a greater mea
sure pass away, and the new heavens and new earth be
set up in a far more glorious manner, than ever before. —
Thus I have shown how the success of Christ's purchase
has been carried on through the times of the afflicted state
of the christian church, from Christ's resurrection till
Antichrist is fallen, and Satan's visible kingdom on earth
is overthrown.

PART VIII.
THE SUCCESS OF REDEMPTION THROUGH THAT SPACE
WHEREIN THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH SHALL, FOR THE
MOST PART, BE IN A STATE OF PEACE AND PROSPERITY.
In order to describe this part, I would speak, first, of
the prosperous state of the church through the greatest part
of this period ; and, secondly, of the great apostacy there
shall be towards the close of it.
I. I would speak of the prosperous state of he church
through the greater part of this period. And in the general,
I would observe two things,
1. That this is most properly the time of the kingdom
of heaven upon earth. T hough the kingdom of heaven was
in a degree set up soon after Christ's resurrection, and in
a further degree in the time of Constantine ; and though
the christian church in all ages of it is called the kingdom
of heaven; yet this is the principal time ofthe kingdom of
heaven upon earth, the time principally intended by the
prophecies of Daniel whence the Jews took the name of
the kingdom of heaven.
2. Now is the principal fulfilment of all the prophecies
ofthe Old Testament which speak ofthe glorious times of
the gospel in the latter days. Though there has been a
glorious fulfilment of those prophecies already, in the times
of the apostles, and of Constantine ; yet the expressions
are too high to suit any other time entirely, but that which
js to succeed the fell of Antichrist. This is most properly
VOL. i. 2 R

the glorious day of the gospel. Other times are only fore
runners and preparatory to this : those were the seed-time,
but this is the harvest. But more particularly,
(1.) It will be a time of great light and knowledge. The
present, are days of darkness, in comparison of those days. —
The light of that glorious time shall be so great, that it is
represented as though there should then be no night, but
only day ; no evening nor darkness. So Zech. xiv. 6, 7.
" And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall
not be clear, nor dark. But it shall be one day, which
shall be known to the Lord, not day, nor night; but
it shall come to pass, that at evening-time it shall be
light." — It is further represented, as though God would
then give such light to his church, that it should so much
exceed the glory of the light of the sun and moon, that they
should be ashamed : Isa. xxiv. 23. " Then the moon shall
be confounded, and the sun ashamed, when the Lord of
hosts shall reign in mount Zion, and in Jerusalem, and
before his ancients gloriously."
There is a kind of vail now cast over the greater part of
the world, which keeps them in darkness ; but then this
vail shall be destroyed : Isa. xxv. 7. " And he will destroy
in this mountain the face of the covering cast over all
people, and the vail that is spread over all nations." Then
all countries and nations, even those which are now most
ignorant, shall be full of light and knowledge. Great
knowledge shall prevail every where. It may be hoped,
that then many of the Negroes and Iudians will be divines,
and that excellent books will be published in Africa, in
Ethiopia, in Tartary, and other now the most barbarous
countries ; and not only learned men, but others of more
ordinary education, shall then be very knowing in religion :
Isa. xxxii. 3, 4. " The eyes of them that see, shall not be
dim ; and the ears of them that hear, shall hearken. The
heart also of the rash shall understand knowledge."
Knowledge then shall be very universal among all sorts of
persons ; Jer. xxxi. 34. " And they shall teach no more
every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, say
ing, Know the Lord : for they shall all know me, from the
least of them unto the greatest of them."
There shall then be a wonderful unravelling of the dif
ficulties in the doctrines of religion, and clearing up of
seeming inconsistencies : " So crooked things shall be made
straight, and rough places shall be made plain, and dark
ness shall become light before God's people." Difficulties
in Scripture shall then be cleared up, and wonderful things
shall be discovered in the word of God, which were never
discovered before. The great discovery of those things in
religion which had been before kept hid, seems to be com
pared to removing the vail, and discovering the ark of the
testimony to the people, which before used to be kept in
the secret part of the temple, and was never seen by them.
Thus at the sounding of the seventh angel, when it is pro
claimed, " that the kingdoms of this world are become the
kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ," it is added, that
" the temple of God was opened in heaven, and there was
seen in his temple the ark of his testament." So great shall
be the increase of knowledge in this time, that heaven shall
be as it were opened to the church of God on earth.
(2.) It shall be a time of great holiness. Now vital reli
gion sb_ill every where prevail and reign. Religion shall
not be an empty profession, as it now mostly is, but holi
ness of heart and life shall abundantly prevail. Those
times shall be an exception from what Christ says of the
ordinary state of the church, viz. that there shall be but few
saved; ifor now holiness shall become general : Isa. Ix.' 21.
" Thy people also shall be all righteous." Not that there
will be none remaining in a Christless condition ; but that
visible wickedness shall be suppressed every where, and
true holiness shall become general, though not universal.
It shall be a wonderful time, not only for the multitude of
godly men, but for eminency of grace : Isa. lxv. 20. " There
shall be no more thence an infant of days, nor an old man
that hath not filled his days : for the child shall die an
hundred years old, but the sinner being an hundred years
old, shall'be accursed." Zech. xii. 8. " He that is feeble
among them at that day shall be as David ; and the house
of David shall be as God, as the angel of the Lord before
them." And holiness shall then be as it were inscribed on
every thing, on all men's common business and employ-

610

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III

ments, and the common utensils of life : all shall be dedi
cated to God, and applied to holy purposes : every thing
shall then be done to the glory of God : Isa. xxiii. 18.
" And her merchandise and her hire shall be holiness to
the Lord." (And so Zech. xiv. 20, 21.)— And as God's
people then shall be eminent in holiness of heart, so they
shall be also in holiness of life and practice.
(3.) It shall be a time wherein religion shall in every
respect be uppermost in the world. It shall be had in
great esteem and honour. The saints have hitherto for the
most part been kept under, and wicked men have go
verned. But now they will be uppermost. The kingdom
shall be given into the hands of the saints of the " most
high God," Dan. vii. 27. And " they shall reign on
earth," Rev. v. 10. They shall live and " reign with
Christ a thousand years," Rev. xx. 4. In that day, such
Eersons as are eminent for true piety and religion, shall
e chiefly promoted to places of trust and authority.
Vital religion shall then take possession of kings' palaces
and thrones ; and those who are in highest advance
ment shall be holy men : Isa. xlix. 23. " And kings
shall be thy nursing-fathers, and their queens thy nursing-
rnothers." Kings shall employ all their power, and
glory, and riches, for the advancement of the nonour and
glory of Christ, and the good of his church : Isa. Ix.
16. " Thou shalt also suck the milk of the Gentiles, and
shalt suck the breasts of kings." And the great men of
the world, and the rich merchants, and others who have
great wealth and influence, shall devote all to Christ and
his church : Psal. xiv. 12. " The daughter of Tyre shall
be there with a gift, even the rich among the people shall
entreat thy favour."
(4.) Those will be times of great peace and love. There
shall then be universal peace and a good understanding
among the nations of the world, instead of confusion, wars,
and bloodshed. Isa. ii. 4. " And he shall judge among the
nations, and shall rebuke many people : and they shall beat
their swords into plough-shares, and their spears into prun-
ing-hooks : nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more." It is represented
as if all instruments of war should be destroyed, having
become useless : Psal. xlvi. 9. " He maketh wars to cease
unto the end of the earth : he breaketh the bow, and cut-
teth the spear in sunder, he burnetii the chariot in the fire."
(See also Zech. ix. 10.) Then shall all nations dwell
quietly and safely, without fear of any enemy. Isa. xxxii.
18. " And my people shall dwell in a peaceable habita
tion, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting-places."
(Also Zech. viii. 10, 11.)
Then shall malice, and envy, and wrath, and revenge,
be Suppressed every where ; and peace and love shall pre
vail between one man and another ; which is most ele
gantly set forth in Isa. xi. 6 — 10. Then shall there be
peace and love between rulers and ruled. Rulers shall
love their people, and with all their might seek their best
good ; and the people shall love their rulers, shall joyfully
submit to them, and give them that honour which is their
due. So shall there be happy love between ministers and
their people : Mai. iv. 6. " And he shall turn the heart of
the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to
their fathers." Then shall flourish in an eminent manner
those christian virtues of meekness, forgiveness, long-
suffering, gentleness, goodness, and brotherly-kindness,
those excellent fruits of the Spirit. Men, in their temper
and disposition, shall then be like the Lamb of God,
the lovely Jesus. The body shall be conformed to the
head. Then shall all the world be united in one amiable so
ciety. All nations, in all parts of the world, on every
side of the globe, shall then be knit together in sweet
harmony. All parts of God's church shall assist and pro
mote the spiritual good of one another. A communica
tion shall then be upheld between all parts of the world
to that end ; and the art of navigation, which is now ap
plied so much to favour men's covetousness and pride,
and is used so much by wicked debauched men, shall
then be consecrated to God, and applied to holy uses.
(See Isa. Ix. 5—9.) And then men will be abundant in
expressing their love one to another, not only in words,
but in deeds of charity, Isa. xxxii. 5. "The vile person

shall be no more called liberal, nor the churl said to be
bountiful ;" but (ver. 8.) " the liberal deviseth liberal
things, and by liberal things shall he stand."
(5.) It will be a time of excellent order in the church of
Christ. The true government and discipline of the church
will then be settled and put into practice. All the world
shall then be as one church, one orderly, regular, beautiful
society. And as the body shall be one, so the members
shall be in beautiful proportion to each other. Then shall
that be verified in Psal. cxxii. 3. " Jerusalem is builded
as a city that is compact together."
(6.) The church of God shall then be beautiful and glo
rious on these accounts ; yea, it will appear in the perfec
tion of beauty : Isa. Ix. 1 . " Arise, shine, for thy light is
come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. Isa.
lxi. 10. " He hath covered me with the robe of righteous
ness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and
as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels." On these
accounts, the church will then be the greatest image of
heaven itself.
(7.) That will be a time of the greatest temporal pros
perity. Such a spiritual state as we have just described,
has a natural tendency to health and long life ; and that
this will actually be the case, is evident by Zech. viii. 4.
" Thus saith the Lord of hosts, There shall yet old men
and old women dwell in the streets of Jerusalem, and
every man with his staff in his hand for very age." It has
also a natural tendency to procure ease, quietness, pleasant
ness, and cheerfulness of mind, also wealth, and a great
increase of children ; as is intimated in Zech. viii. 5.
" And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls
playing in the streets thereof."  But further, the tem
poral prosperity of the people of God will also be pro
moted by a remarkable blessing from heaven : Isa. lxv.
21. "They shall build houses, and inhabit them; and
they shall plant vineyards, and eat the fruit of them."
And in Mic. iv. 4. " But they shall sit every man under
his vine, and under his fig-tree, and none shall make them
afraid." Zech. vii. 12. " For the seed shall be prosperous,
the vine shall give her fruit, and the ground shall give her
increase, and the heavens shall give their dew, and I will
cause the remnant of this people to possess all these
things." (See also Jer. xxxi. 12, 13. and Amos ix. 13.)
Yea then they shall receive all manner of tokens of God's
presence, acceptance, and favour : Jer. xxxiii. 9. " And
it shall be to me a name of joy, a praise and an honour
before all the nations of the earth, which shall hear all the
food that I do unto them : and they shall fear and trem-
le for all the goodness and for -all the prosperity that I
procure unto it." Even the days of Solomon were but
an image of those days, as to the temporal prosperity
which shall be obtained in them.
(8.) It will also be a time of great rejoicing : Isa. xxxv.
10. " And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and
come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy upon their
heads : they shall obtain jov and gladness, and sorrow and
sighing shall flee away." Chap. Iv. 12. " For ye shall go
out with joy, and be led forth with peace : the mountains
and the hills shall break forth before you." Chap. lxvi.
11. " That ye may suck, and be satisfied with the breasts
of her consolations : that ye may milk out, and be delight
ed with the abundance of her glory." Chap. xii. 3. "With
joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation."
That will be the church's glorious wedding-day with Christ
upon earth : Rev. xix. 7. " Let us be glad and rejoice,
and give honour to him ; for the marriage of the Lamb is
come, and his wife hath made herself ready." Ver. 9.
" Blessed are they which are called to the marriage-supper
of the Lamb."
The Scriptures every where represent this prosperity to
be of long continuance. The former intervals of rest and
prosperity, as we before observed, are represented to be
but short ; but the representations of this state are quite
different : Rev. xx. 4. " And I saw the souls of them
that were beheaded for the witness of Jesus, — and they
lived and reigned with Christ a thousand years." Isa. Ix'.
15. " Whereas thou hast been forsaken arid hated, so that
no man went through thee, I will make thee an eternal
excellency, a joy of many generations." — This may suffice
as to the prosperous state of the church through the greater

Part VIII.

TO THE END OF TIME

Cll

part of the period from the destruction of Satan's visible
kingdom in the world to Christ's appearing in the clouds
of heaven to judgment.
II. I now come to speak of the great apostacy there
should be towards the close of this period, and how the
church should, for a short time, be threatened by her ene
mies. And this I shall do under three particulars.
1 . A little before the end of the world, a great part of
the world shall fall away from Christ and his church. It
is said, Rev. xx. 3. that Satan should be cast into the
bottomless pit, and shut up, and have a seal set upon him,
that he should deceive the nations no more till the thou
sand years should be fulfilled; and that afterward he must
be loosed out of his prison for a little season. Accord
ingly we are told, (ver. 7, 8.) that when the thousand
years are expired, Satan shall be loosed out of his prison,
and go forth to deceive the nations, which are in the four
quarters of the earth, Gog and Magog. This intimates,
that the apostacy would be very general. The nations of
the four quarters of the earth shall be deceived ; and the
number of those who shall now turn enemies to Christ
shall be vastly great, as the army of Gog and Magog is
represented in Ezek. It is said, (Rev. xx. 8.) that the
number of them is as the sand of the sea, and that they
went up on the breadth of the earth, as if they were an
army large enough to reach from one side of the earth to
the other.
Thus after a happy and glorious season, such a long day
of light and holiness, of love and peace, and joy, it shall
again be a dark time. Satan shall begin to set up his
dominion again in the world ; and this world shall again
become a scene of darkness and wickedness. The bottom
less pit shall be opened, and devils shall come up again
out of it, and a dreadful smoke shall ascend to darken
the world. And the church of Christ, instead of extend
ing to the utmost bounds of the world, as it did before,
shall be reduced to narrow limits. The world of mankind
being continued so long in a state of great prosperity shall
now begin to abuse their prosperity, to serve their lust and
corruption. This we learn from Luke xvii. 26, &c.
2. Those apostates shall make great opposition to the
church of God. The church shall be threatened with a
sudden and entire overthrow by them. It is said, Satan
shall gather them together to battle, as the sand on the sea
shore ; and they went up on the breadth of the earth, and
compassed the camp of the saints about, and the beloved
city. So that this beloved city shall seem just ready to
be swallowed up by them : for her enemies shall not only
threaten her, but shall actually have gathered together
against her ; and not only so, but shall have besieged her,
shall have compassed her about on every side. — However,
there is nothing in the prophecy which seems to hold forth,
that the church had actually fallen into their hands, as it
had fallen into the hands of Antichrist, to whom it was
given to make war with the saints, and to overcome them.
God will never suffer this to take place after the fall of
Antichrist; for then the day of her mouming shall be
ended, alarmingly threatened with utter and sudden de
struction. 3. Now the state of things will seem most remarkably
to call for Christ's immediate appearance to judgment.
For then the world shall be filled with the most aggravated
wickedness. For much the greater part of the world shall
have become visibly wicked and open enemies to Christ,
and their wickedness shall be dreadfully aggravated by
their apostacy. Before the fall of Antichrist, most of the
world was full of visibly wicked men. But the greater
part of these are poor heathens, who never enjoyed the
light of the gospel ; and others are those that have been
bred up in the Mahometan or popish darkness. But these
have apostatized from the christian church, the visible
kingdom of Christ, in which they enjoyed the great light
ancf privileges of glorious times, which shall be incom
parably greater than the light and privileges which the
church of God enjoys now. This apostacy will be most
like the apostacy of the devils of any that ever had before
been : for the devils apostatized, and turned enemies to

Christ, though they enjoyed the light of heaven ; and these
will apostatize, and turn enemies to him, though they have
enjoyed the light and privileges of the glorious times of
the church. That such should turn open and avowed
enemies to Christ, and should seek the ruin of his church,
will cry aloud for such immediate vengeance as was exe
cuted on the devils when they fell.
The wickedness of the world will remarkably call for
Christ's immediate appearing in flaming fire to take ven
geance on them, because of the way in which they shall
manifest their wickedness. This will be by scoffing and
blaspheming Christ and his holy religion; and particularly,
they will scoff at the notion of Christ's coming to judg
ment, of which the church shall be in expectation. For
now doubtless will be the greatest fulfilment of 2 Pet. iii. 3,
4. " Knowing this first, that there shall come in the last days
scoffers, walking after their own lusts, and saying, Where
is the promise of his coming ? For since the fathers fell
asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning
of the creation." They shall be in no expectation of the
coming of Christ to judgment, and shall laugh at the
notion. They shall trample all such things under foot,
and shall give up themselves to their lusts, or to eat and
drink, and wallow in sensual delights, as though they were
to be here for ever. They shall despise the warnings the
church shall give them of the coming of Christ to judg
ment, as the people of the old world despised what Noah
told them of the approaching flood, and as the people of
Sodom did when Lot said to them, The Lord will destroy
this city. Their wickedness on this account will cry aloud
to heaven for Christ's appearing in flaming fire to take
vengeance of his enemies ; and because they shall exercise
their wickedness in a wicked design and violent attempt
against the holy city of God, wherein, for so long a time,
so much of the religion of Christ had been seen.
And the great number of the wicked is another thing
which shall especially call for Christ's coming : for the
world then will doubtless be exceeding full of people,
having continued so long in so great a state of prosperity,
without such terrible desolating extremities, as wars, pesti
lences, and the like, to diminish them. And the major
part of this world, which shall be so populous, will be
wicked contemptuous apostates from God. Undoubtedly
the world then will be by far fuller of wickedness than
ever it was before, from its foundation. And if the
wickedness of the old world, when men began to multiply
on the earth, called for the destruction of the world by a
deluge of water, this wickedness will as much call for its
destruction by a deluge of fire.
Again, the circumstance's of the church at that day will
also eminently call for the immediate appearing of Christ,
as they will be compassed about by their blasphemous
murderous enemies, just ready to be swallowed up by
them. And it will be a most distressing time with the
church, excepting the comfort they will have in the hope
of deliverance from God : for all other help will seem to
fail. The case will be come to the last extremity, and
there will he* an immediate need that Christ should come
to their deliverance. And though the church shall be so
eminently threatened, yet so will Providence order it, that
it shall be preserved till Christ shall appear in his imme
diate presence, coming in the glory of his Father with all
his holy angels. And then will come the time when all
the elect shall be gathered in. That work of conversion
which has been carried on from the beginning of the
church after the fell through all those ages, shall be carried
on no more. There never shall another soul be converted.
Every one of those many millions, whose names were
written in the book of life before the foundation ' of the
world, shall be brought in ; not one soul shall be lost.
And the mystical body of Christ, which has been growing
since it first began in the days of Adam, will be complete
as to the number of parts, having every one of its mem
bers. In this respect, the work of redemption will now
be finished. And now the end for which the means of
grace have been instituted shall be obtained.— All that
effect which was intended, shall now be accomplished.

2 R 2

612

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period 111.

PART IX.
THE GENERAL JUDGMENT
Thus I have shown how the success of Christ's redemp
tion has been accomplished during the continuance of the
christian church under the means of grace. We have
seen what great revolutions there have been, and are to
be, during this space of time ; how the great wheels of
Providence have gone round for the accomplishment of
that kind of success of Christ's purchase, which consists
in the bestowment of grace on the elect. In the prosecu
tion of the subject, we are come to the time when all the
wheels have gone round ; the course of things in this state
of it is finished, and all things are ripe for Christ's coming
to judgment.
The success of Christ's purchase is of two kinds, con
sisting either in grace or glory. The success consisting in
the former of these, is to be seen in those works of God
which are wrought during those ages that the church is
continued under the means of grace ; and the success,
consisting in the latter, will chiefly be accomplished at the
day of judgment. — Having already shown how the former
kind of success has been accomplished, I come now to the
latter, viz. that kind of success which is accomplished in
the bestowment of glory on the church at the day of
judgment. — ¦ — And here I would mention two or three
things in general, concerning this kind of success of
Christ's purchase.
1 . How great the success of Christ's purchase is, ap
pears chiefly in this very thing. The success of Christ's
purchase summarily consists in the salvation of the elect.
But this bestowment of glory is eminently called their
salvation : Heb. ix. 28. " To them that look for him, shall
he appear the second time, without sin unto salvation." —
So it is called redemption, being eminently that wherein
the redemption of the church consists. So in Eph. iv. 30.
" Sealed unto the day of redemption ;" and Luke xxi. 28.
and Eph. i. 14. " Redemption ofthe purchased possession."
2. All that precedes this, while the church is under the
means of grace, is only to make way for the success which
is to be accomplished in the bestowment of glory. The
means of grace, and God's grace itself, is bestowed on the
elect to make them meet for glory.
3. All those glorious things which were brought to pass
for the church while under the means of grace, are but
images and shadows of this. So were those glorious
things which were accomplished for the church in the days
of Constantine the Great ; and so is all that glory which
is to succeed the fell of Antichrist. However great, it is
all but a shadow of what will be bestowed at the day of
judgment. But I hasten more particularly to show how
this kind of success will be accomplished.
I. Christ will appear in the glory of his Father, with all
his holy angels, coming in the clouds of heaven. When
the world is thus revelling in their wickedness, and com
passing the holy city, just ready to destroy it, then shall
the glorious Redeemer make his appearance. He through
whom this redemption has all along been carried on, shall
appear in the sight of the world ; the light of his glory
shall break forth ; the whole world shall immediately have
notice of it, and they shall lift up their eyes and behold
this wonderful sight. Every eye shall see him, (Rev. i. 7.)
Christ shall appear coming in his human nature, in that
same body (now glorified) which was brought forth in a
stable, and laid in a manger, which afterwards was so
cruelly used, and nailed to the cross.
Men shall now lift up their eyes, and see him coming
in such majesty and glory as now is to us utterly incon
ceivable. The glory of the sun in a clear firmament, will
be but darkness in comparison of it. ; and all the glorious
angels and archangels shall attend him; thousand thou
sands ministering to him, and ten thousand times ten
thousand round about him. — How different a person will
he then appear from what he did at his first coming, when
he was as a root out of a dry ground, a poor, despised,
afflicted man ! How different now is his appearance, in the
midst of those glorious angels, principalities, and powers,

in heavenly places, attending him as his ordinary servants,
from what it was when in the midst of a ring of soldiers,
with his mock robe and his crown of thorns, buffeted and
spit upon, or hanging on the cross between two thieves,
with a multitude of his enemies triumphing over him !
This will be a most unexpected sight to the wicked
world : it will come as a cry at midnight : they shall be
taken in the midst of their wickedness, and it will give
them a dreadful alarm. It will at once break up their
revels, their eating, and drinking, and carousing. It will
put a quick end to the design of the great army that will
then be compassing the camp of the saints : it will make
them let drop their weapons out of their hands. The
world, which will then be very full of people, most of
whom will be wicked men, will then be filled with
dolorous shrieking and crying ; for all the kindreds of the
earth shall wail because of him, (Rev. i. 7.) And where
shall they hide themselves ? How will the sight of that
awful majesty terrify them when taken in the midst of
their wickedness ! Then they shall see who he is, what
kind of a person he is, whom they have mocked and
scoffed at, and whose church they have been endeavouring
to overthrow. This sight will change their voice. The
voice of their laughter and singing, while they are marry
ing and giving in marriage, and the voice of their scoffing,
shall be changed into hideous, hellish yelling. Their
countenances shall be changed from a show of camal
mirth, haughty pride, and contempt of God's people;
they shall put on ghastly terror and amazement; and
trembling and chattering of teeth shall seize upon them.
But with respect to the saints, it shall be a joyful and
most glorious sight to them : for this sight will at once de
liver them from all fear of their enemies, who were before
compassing them about, just ready to swallow them up.
Deliverance shall come in their extremity : the glorious
Captain of their salvation shall appear for them, at a time
when no other help appeared. Then shall they lift up
their heads, and their redemption shall be drawing nigh,
(Luke xxi. 28.) Christ will appear with infinite majesty,
yet at the same time they shall see infinite love in his
countenance. And thus to see their Redeemer coming in
the clouds of heaven, will fill their hearts full of gladness,
Their countenances also shall be changed, not as the
countenances of the wicked, but from being sorrowful, to
be exceedingly joyful and triumphant. And now the
work of redemption will be finished in another sense, viz.
that the whole church shall be completely and eternally
freed from all persecution and molestation from wicked
men and devils.
II. The last trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be
raised, and the living changed. God sent forth his angels
with a great sound of a trumpet, to gather together his
elect from the four corners of the earth in a mystical sense,
before the destruction of Jerusalem ; i. e. he sent forth the
apostles, and others, to preach the gospel all over the
world. And so in a mystical sense the great trumpet was
blown at the beginning ofthe glorious times ofthe church.
But now the great trumpet is blown in a more literal
sense, with a mighty sound which shakes the earth. There
will be a great signal given by a mighty sound made,
which is called the voice qf the archangel, as being the
angel of greatest strength, i Thess. iv. 16. " For the Lord
himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the
voice of the archangel, and with the tramp of God." On
the sound of the great trumpet, the dead shall be raised
every where. Now the number of the dead is very great.
How many has death cut down since the world has stood.
But then the number will be much greater, the world
shall have stood longer, and through most of the remain
ing time it will doubtless be much fuller of inhabitants
than ever it has been. All these shall now rise from the
dead. The graves shall be opened in all parts of the world,
and the sea shall give up the innumerable dead that are in
it, (Rev. xx. 13.)
And now all the inhabitants that ever shall have been
upon the face of the earth, shall all appear upon earth at
once. Among these will be Adam and Eve, the first
parents of mankind, Abel, and Seth, and Methuselah, and
all the saints who were their contemporaries ; Noah and
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the prophets of Israel and

Part IX.

THE GENERAL JUDGMENT.

613

holy confessors. Among them will appear all the holy
apostles of Jesus Christ, and all the saints of their times;
all the holy martyrs who fell under furious persecutions.
There will be found all who belonged to the church in its
wildemess-state, during the dark times of Antichrist, and
all who have suffered under his persecuting cruelty, with
all the saints of past and the present time, and that shall be
to the end of the world.— Now also all the enemies of the
church in all the ages shall appear again ; all the wicked
heathens, and Jews, and Mahometans, and papists. Sin
ners of all sorts ; demure hypocrites, profane sensualists,
heretics, deists, and all cruel persecutors, and all who shall
have died in sin, shall come together.
. And at the same time that the dead are raised, the living
shall be changed. The bodies of the wicked who shall
then be living, shall be so changed as to fit them for eter
nal torment; and the bodies of all the living saints shall
be changed to be like unto Christ's glorious body, 1 Cor.
xv. 51, 52, 53.  -The bodies of the saints shall be so
changed as to render them for ever incapable of pain, or
affliction, or uneasiness ; and all that dulness and heavi
ness, and all that deformity, which their bodies had before,
shall be put off; and they shall put on strength and
beauty, activity, and incorruptible unfading glory. And
in such glory shall the bodies of all the risen saints appear.
And now the work of redemption shall be finished in
another respect, viz. that all the elect shall now be actually
redeemed both in soul and body. Before this, the work of
redemption, as to its actual success, was but incomplete ;
for only the souls of the redeemed were actually saved and
glorified, excepting in some few instances : but now all
the bodies of the saints shall be saved and glorified to
gether ; all the elect shall be glorified in the whole man,
the soul and body in union.
III. Now shall the saints be caught up in the clouds to
meet the Lord in the air, and all wicked men and devils
shall be arraigned before the judgment-seat. When the
dead saints are raised, then the whole church, consisting of
all the elect through all ages, will stand together on the
earth, at least all excepting those few whose bodies were
glorified before ; and then they shall all mount up as with
wings to meet Christ. It seems that Christ, when he
comes to judgment, will not come quite to the ground,
but his throne will be fixed in the airy region, whence he
may be seen by all that vast multitude that shall be
gathered before him. The saints therefore shall ascend up
to their Saviour. Thus the apostle tells us, that when the
dead in Christ are raised, and the living changed, then
those who are alive and remain, shall be caught up to
gether with them, to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall
we be ever with the Lord, 1 Thess. iv. 16, 17. What a
wonderful sight will that be, when all the many millions
of saints are thus mounting up.
Then shall the work of redemption be finished in
another respect : then shall the whole church be perfectly
and for ever delivered from this present evil world ; shall
take their everlasting leave of this earth, where they have
been strangers, and which has been for the most part a
scene of trouble and sorrow : where the devil has reigned
as god, and has greatly molested them, and which has
been such a scene of wickedness and abomination , where
Christ their Lord has been cruelly used ; and where they
have been so hated, reproached, and persecuted. They
shall leave it, and shall never set foot on it again. And
there shall be an everlasting separation made between
them and wicked men. Before, they were mixed to
gether, and it was impossible in many instances to deter
mine their characters ; but now all shall become visible ;
both saints and sinners shall appear in their true charac
ters and forms. — Then shall all the church be seen ascend
ing to the right hand of Christ. What a mighty cloud of
them will there be !
And then also the work of redemption will be finished
in another respect, viz. that then the church shall all be
gathered together. They all belonged to one society be
fore, but yet were greatly separated with respect to the
place of their habitation. Some were in heaven, and some
on earth ; and those who were on earth were separated,
many of them by wide oceans, and vast continents. But
now they shall all be gathered together, never to be sepa

rated any more. And not only shall all the members ofthe
church now be gathered together, but all shall be gathered
unto their Head, into his immediate glorious presence,
never to be separated from him any more.
At the same time, all wicked men and devils shall be
brought before the judgment-seat of Christ. These shall
be gathered to the left hand of Christ, and, as it seems,
will still remain upon the earth, and shall not be caught up
into the air, as the saints shall be. The devil, that old
serpent, shall now be dragged up out of hell. He, that
first procured the fall and misery of mankind, and has so
set himself against their redemption — and has all along
shown himself such an inveterate enemy to the Redeemer —
shall never more have any thing to do with the church of
God, nor be suffered in the least to afflict or molest any
member of it for ever. Instead of that, now he must be
judged, and receive the due reward of his deeds. Now is
come the time which he has always dreaded ; the time
wherein he must be judged, and receive his full punish
ment. He who by his temptation maliciously procured
Christ's crucifixion, and triumphed as though he had ob
tained the victory, even he shall see the consequences of
that death which he procured. Now he must stand before
that same Jesus, to be judged, condemned, and eternally
destroyed by him. If Satan, the prince of hell, trembles
at the thought of it thousands of years beforehand, how
much more will he tremble, proud and stubborn as he
is, when he comes to stand at Christ's bar !
Then shall he also stand at the bar of the saints, whom
he has so hated, afflicted, and molested : for the saints
shall judge him with Christ : 1 Cor. vi. 3. " Know ye not
that we shall judge angels ?" Now shall he be as it were
subdued under the church's feet, agreeable to Rom. xvi.
20. — Satan, when he first tempted our first parents to sin,
deceitfully and lyingly told them, that they should be as
gods : but little did he think that they should indeed be
so far as gods, as to be assessors with God to judge him.
Much less did he think, that one of that nature which he
then tempted, one of the posterity of those very persons
whom he tempted, should actually be united to God ;
that as God he should judge the world, and that he him
self must stand trembling and astonished before his judg
ment-seat. But thus all the devils in hell, who have so
opposed Christ and his kingdom, shall now at last stand
in utmost amazement and horror before Christ and his
church, who shall appear to condemn them.
Now also shall all Christ's other enemies be brought to
appear before him. Now shall proud scribes and Phari
sees, who had such a malignant hatred of Christ while
in his state of humiliation, and who persecuted him to
death, be made to come. Now those before whose judg
ment-seat Christ once stood, as a malefactor at their bar —
and those who mocked him, buffeted him, and spit in his
face — shall see Christ in his awful glory, as forewarned,
Matt. xxvi. 64, 65. Then Christ was before their judg
ment-seat ; but now it is their turn to stand before his
judgment-seat with inconceivable horror and amazement,
with ghastly countenances, quaking limbs, chattering teeth,
and knees smiting one against another.
Now also all the cruel enemies and persecutors of the
church that have been in all ages, shall come in sight to
gether. Pharaoh and the Egyptians, Antiochus Epiphanes,
the malignant scribes and Pharisees, the persecuting hea
then emperors, Julian the apostate, the cruel persecuting
popes and papists, Gog and Magog, shall all appear at
once before the judgment-seat of Christ. They and the
saints who have in every age been persecuted by them,
shall come in sight, and must now confront one another
before the great Judge. And now shall the saints on their
glorious thrones be made the judges of those unjust kings
and rulers who before judged and condemned them, and
put them to cruel death. Now shall those persecutors
behold the glory to which they are arrived, whom they
before so cruelly despised, and so cruelly treated. Thus
wonderfully will the face of things be altered ; now will
all things be coming to rights.
IV. The righteousness of the church shall be manifest
ed, and all the wickedness of their enemies shall be brought
to light. Those saints who had been the objects of hatred,
reproach, and contempt in the world ; reviled and con-

614

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

demned by their persecutors without a cause, shall now
be fully vindicated. They shall now appear clothed with
the glorious robe of Christ's righteousness. It shall be
most manifest before the world, that Christ's righteousness
is theirs, and they shall gloriously shine forth in it. Then
shall their inherent holiness be made manifest, and all their
good works be brought to light. The good things which
they did in secret shall now be manifested openly. Those
holy ones of God, who had been treated as the 'filth and
offscouring of the earth, as if not fit to live; as worse than
beasts or devils, shall now appear to have been the excel
lent of the earth. Now God will bring forth their righte
ousness as the light, and their judgment as the noon-day.
And now it shall appear who indeed were those wicked
persons that were not fit to live ; when all the wickedness
of the enemies of Christ and his church, their pride, their
malice, their cruelty, their hatred of true religion, shall be
set forth in all its horrid acts, in its proper colours.
And now the righteous may be heard before this great
Judge, who could not be heard before those unjust judges.
Now they shall declare their cause, and rise up in judg
ment against their persecutors, and shall declare how they
had been treated by them. And now all the wickedness
of the wicked shall be brought to light ; even all their
secret wickedness, and their very hearts shall be opened
to view, and as it were turned inside out, before the bright
light of that great day. Things which have been spoken
in the ear, in the closet, and done in the dark, shall be
manifested in the light, and proclaimed before angels and
men. V. The sentence shall be pronounced on the righteous
and the wicked. Christ, the glorious Judge, shall pass that
blessed sentence on the church at his right hand, " Come,
ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for
you from the foundation of the world." This sentence
shall be pronounced with infinite love, and the voice will
cause every heart to flow with joy. Thus Christ shall
pronounce a sentence of justification on millions, who be
fore had a sentence of condemnation passed upon them by
their persecuting rulers. He will thus put honour upon
those who have been before despised : he will own them
for his, and will put a crown of glory upon their heads
before the world ; and then shall they shine forth as the
sun with Jesus Christ in glory and joy, in the sight of all
their enemies.
And then shall the sentence of condemnation be passed
on the wicked, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire,
prepared for the devil and his angels." Thus shall the
church's enemies be condemned ; in which sentence of
condemnation, the holy martyrs, who have suffered from
them, shall concur. When the words of this sentence are
pronounced, they will strike every heart of those at the
left hand with inconceivable horror and amazement. Every
syllable of it will be more terrible than a stream of light
ning through their hearts. What horrible shrieking,
quaking, gnashing of teeth, distortions of countenance,
hideous looks, hideous actions, and hideous voices, will
be seen through all that vast throng !
VI. Upon this, Christ and all his saints, and all the
holy angels ministering to them, shall leave this lower
world, and ascend towards the highest heavens. Christ
shall ascend in as great glory as he descended, and in
some respects greater : for now he shall ascend with his
elect church with him, glorified in body and soul. Christ's
first ascension to heaven soon after his own resurrection
was very glorious. But this his second ascension, with
his mystical body, his whole church, shall be far more
glorious. The redeemed church shall all ascend with him
in a most joyful and triumphant manner : and all their
enemies and persecutors, who shall be left behind to be
consumed, shall see the sight, and hear their songs. — And
thus Christ's church shaU for ever leave this accursed
world, to go into the highest heavens, the paradise of God,
the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the
world. ',
VII. When they are gone, this world shall be set on
fire, and be turned into a great furnace, wherein all the
enemies of Christ and his church shall be tormented for
ever and ever. This is manifest by 2 Pet. iii. 7. " But
the heavens and the earth which are now, by the same

word are kept in store, reserved unto -fire against the day
of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men." When
Christ and his church are ascended to a distance from this
world — that miserable company of the wicked being left
behind, to have their sentence executed upon them here —
then, this whole lower world shall be set on fire, either
from heaven, or by fire breaking out of the bowels of tho
earth, or both, as it was with the water in the time of the
deluge. However, this lower world shall be set all on
fire. — How will it strike the wicked with horror, when the
fire begins to lay hold upon them, and they find no way
to escape from it ! What shrieking and crying will there
be among those many millions, when they begin to enter
into this great furnace, when the whole world shall be a
furnace of the fiercest and most raging heat! insomuch
that the apostle Peter says, (2 Pet. iii. 10, 12.) that " the
heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the ele
ments shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also, and the
works that are therein, shall be burnt up ; and the heavens
being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall
melt with fervent heat." And so fierce shall be its heat,
that it shall burn the earth into its very centre ; which
seems to be what is meant, Deut. xxxii. 22. " For a fire
is kindled in my anger, and shall burn unto the lowest
hell, and shall consume the earth with her increase, and
set on fire the foundations of the mountains."
And here shall all the persecutors of the church of God
burn in everlasting fire, who had before burnt the saints at
the stake ; and shall suffer torments far beyond all that
their utmost wit and malice could inflict on the saints.
And here the bodies of all the wicked shall burn, and he
tormented to all eternity, and never be consumed ; and
the wrath of God shall be poured out on their souls.
Though the souls of the wicked in hell do now suffer
dreadful punishment, yet their punishment will be so in
creased at the day of judgment, that what they suffered
before, is, in comparison of it, as an imprisonment to the
execution which follows it. And now the devil, that old
serpent, shall receive his full punishment ; now that for
fear of which he before trembled, shall fully come upon
him. This world, which formerly used to be the place of his
kingdom, where he set up himself as God, shall now be
the place of his complete punishment, of full and everlast
ing torment. — And in this, one design of the work of re
demption, viz. putting Christ's enemies under his feet,
shall be perfectly accomplished. His enemies shall now
be made his footstool, in the fullest degree. Now shall be
the most perfect fulfilment of Gen. iii. 15. " It shall bruise
thy head*
VIII. At the same time, all the church shall enter with
Christ, their glorious Lord, into the highest heavens, and
there shall enter on the state of their highest and eternal
blessedness and glory. While the lower world, which they
have left under their feet, is seized with the fire of God's
vengeance, and flames are kindling upon it, and the wicked
are entering into everlasting fire, the whole church shall
enter, with their glorious Head, and all the holy angels at
tending, in a joyful manner, into the eternal paradise of
God, the palace of the great Jehovah, their heavenlv
Father. The gates shall open wide for them to enter, and
there Christ will bring them into his chambers in the high
est sense. Here Christ will bring them, and present them
in glory to his Father, saying, " Here am I, and the chil
dren which thou hast given me ;" as much as to say, Here
am I, with every one of those whom thou gavest me from
eternity to take the care of, that they might be redeemed
and glorified, and to redeem whom I have done and suf
fered so much, and to make way for whose redemption I
have for so many ages been accomplishing such great
changes. Here they are now perfectly redeemed in body
and soul ; I have delivered them from all the ill fruits of
the fall, and freed them from all their enemies ; I have
brought them all together into one glorious society, and
united them all in myself; I have openly justified them be
fore all angels and men, and here I have brought them all
away from that accursed world where they have suffered so
much, and have brought them before thy throne : I have
done all that for them which thou hast appointed me : I
have perfectly cleansed them in my blood, and here they
are in perfect holiness, shining with thy perfect image.

Part IX.

THE GENERAL JUDGMENT.

615

And then the Father will accept of them, own them all for
his children, and welcome them to the eternal and perfect
inheritance and glory of his house, and will on this occa
sion give more glorious manifestations of his love than ever
before, and will admit them to a more full and perfect
enjoyment of himself.
Now shall be the marriage of the Lamb in the most per
fect sense. The commencement of the glorious times of
the church on earth, after the fall of Antichrist, is repre
sented as the marriage of the Lamb ; but after this we
read of another marriage of the Lamb, at the close of the
day of judgment. — After the beloved disciple had given an
account of the day of judgment, (Rev. xx. xxi.) he gives
an account, that he saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem,
prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. Christ shall
bring his church into his Father's house in heaven, as his
bride, without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing.
The bridegroom and the bride shall then enter into
heaven, both having on their wedding-robes, attended with
all the glorious angels. And there they enter on the feast
and joys of their marriage before the Father ; they shall
then begin an everlasting wedding-day. This shall be the
day of the gladness of Christ's heart, wherein he will great
ly rejoice, and all the saints shall rejoice with him.
Christ shall rejoice over his bride, and the bride shall re
joice in her husband, in the state of her consummate and
everlasting blessedness, of which we have a particular de
scription in the 21st and 22d chapters of Revelation.
And now the whole work of redemption is finished.
Now the top-stone of the building is laid. In the progress
of our discourse, we have followed the church of God in
all her great changes, all her tossings to and fro, all her
storms and tempests through the many ages of the world.
We have seen her enter the harbour, and landed in the
highest heavens, in complete and eternal glory. We have
gone through the several ages of time, as the providence
and word of God have led us. We have seen all the
church's enemies fixed in endless misery, and have seen
the church presented in her perfect redemption before her
Father in heaven, there to enjoy this most unspeakable
and inconceivable glory and blessedness ; and there we
leave her to enjoy this glory throughout the never-ending
ages of eternity.
Now all Christ's enemies will be perfectly put under his
feet, and he shall have his most perfect triumph over sin
and Satan, and all his instruments, and death, and hell.
Now shall all the promises made to Christ by God the
Father before the foundation of the world, the promises of
the covenant of redemption, be fully accomplished. Christ
shall now perfectly have obtained the joy set before him,
for which he undertook those great sufferings in his state
of humiliation. Now shall all the hopes and expectations
of the saints be fulfilled. The state of the church before,
was progressive and preparatory : but now she is arrived to
her most perfect state of glory. All the glory ofthe church
on earth, is but a faint shadow of this her consummate
glory in heaven.
Now Christ the great Redeemer shall be most perfectly
glorified, God the Father shall be glorified in him, and the
Holy Ghost shall be most fully glorified in the perfection
of his work on the hearts of all the church. — And now
shall that new heaven and new earth, or the renewed state
of things, be completely finished, after the material frame
of the old heavens and old earth is destroyed : Rev. xxi. 1.
" And I saw a new heaven, and a new earth : for the first
heaven and the first earth were passed away." — And now
will the great Redeemer have perfected every thing that
appertains to the work of redemption, which he began so
soon after the fall of man. And who can conceive of the
triumph of those praises which shall be sung in heaven on
this great occasion, so much greater than that on the fall of
Antichrist. The beloved disciple John (Rev. xix.) seems
to want expressions to describe those praises, and says, "It
was as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of
mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia : for the Lord God
omnipotent reigneth." But much more inexpressible will
those praises be, which will be sung in heaven after the
final consummation of all things. How shall the praises
of that vast and glorious multitude be as mighty thunder
ings indeed !

How are all the former things passed away, and what a
glorious stale are things fixed in to remain to all eternity !
— And as Christ, when he first entered upon the work of
redemption, had the kingdom committed to him of the
Father, and as he took on himself the administration of the
affairs of the universe, to manage all so as to subserve the
purposes of this affair ; so now, the work being finished, he
will deliver up the kingdom to God even the Father, 1
Cor. xv. 24. " Then cometh the end, when he shall have
delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when
he shall have put down all rule, and all authority and
power." Not that Christ shall cease to reign after this ; for
it is said, Luke i. 33. " He shall reign over the house of
Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there shall be no end;"
and Dan. vii. 14. " His dominion is an everlasting domi
nion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that
which shall not be destroyed." But the meaning is, that
Christ shall deliver up that kingdom or dominion which
he has over the world, as the Father's delegate or vice
gerent, which the Father committed to him, to be managed
in subserviency to this great design of redemption. The
end of this commission, or delegation, which he had
from the Father, seems to be to subserve this particular
design of redemption ; and therefore, when that design is
fully accomplished, the commission will cease, and Christ
will deliver it up to the Father, from whom he received it.

PART X.
IMPROVEMENT OF THE WHOLE.
I proceed now to enter upon some improvement ofthe
whole that has been said from this doctrine.
1. Hence we may learn how great a work is this of
redemption. We have now had it, though in a very
imperfect manner, set forth, in its whole progress, from its
first beginning after the fall, to its consummation. We
have seen how God has carried on this building, by a long
succession of wonderful works, advancing it higher and
higher from one age to another, till the top-stone is laid.
And now let us consider how great a work this is. Do
men, when they behold some great edifices, admire their
magnificence ; how well may we admire the greatness of
this building of God, which he builds up age after age !
There are three things exhibited to us in what has been
said, which especially show the greatness of the work of
redemption. 1 . The greatness of those particular events, and dispen
sations of Providence, by which it is accomplished. How
great are those things which God has done, which are but
so many parts of this great work ! What great things were
done in the world to prepare the way for Christ's coming
to purchase, and what great things were done in the actual
purchase of redemption ! What a wonderful thing was
accomplished to put Christ in an immediate capacity for
this purchase, viz. his incarnation, that God should be
come man ! And what great things were done in that
purchase, that a person, who is the eternal Jehovah, should
hve upon earth for four or five and thirty years "together,
in a mean, despised condition, that he should spend his
life in such labours and sufferings, and that at last he
should die upon the cross ! And what great things have
been done to accomplish the success of Christ's redemp
tion ! what great things to put him into a capacity to ac
complish this success ! For this purpose he rose from the
dead, and ascended into heaven, and all things were made
subject to him. How many miracles have been wrought,
what mighty revolutions have been brought to pass in the
world already, and how much greater shall be brought to
pass, in order to it !
2. The number of those great events by which God
carries on this work, shows the greatness of the work.
Those mighty revolutions are so many as to fill up many
ages. The particular wonderful events by which the work
of creation was carried on filled up six days ; but the
great dispensations by which the work of redemption is

616

HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

carried on, are so many, that they fill up six or seven
thousand years at least, as we have reason to conclude
from the word of God.  There were great things wrought
in this affair before the flood, and in the flood the world
was once destroyed by water, and God's church was so
wonderfully preserved from it in order to carry on this
work. And after the flood, what great things did God
work relating to the resettling of the world, to the building
of Babel, the dispersing of the nations, the shortening of
the days of man's life, the calling of Abraham, the de
struction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and that long series of
wonderful providences relating to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,
and Joseph ; and those wonders in Egypt, and at the
Red sea, in the wilderness, and in Canaan in Joshua's
time, and by a long succession of wonderful providences
from age to age towards the nation of the Jews.
What great things were wrought by God, in so often
overturning the world before Christ came, to make way
for his coming ! What great things were done also in
Christ's time, and after that, in overturning Satan's king
dom in the heathen empire, and in so preserving his church
in the dark times of popery, and in bringing about the
Reformation ! — How many great and wonderful things will
be effected in accomplishing the glorious times of the
church, and at Christ's last coming on the day of judg
ment, in the destruction of the world, and in carrying the
whole church into heaven !
3. The glorious issue of this whole affair, in the perfect
and eternal destruction of the wicked, and in the consum
mate glory of the righteous. And now let us once more
take a view of this building, now all is finished and the
top-stone laid. It appeared in a glorious height in the
apostle's time, and much more glorious in the time of
Constantine, and will appear much more glorious still after
the fall of Antichrist; but at the consummation of all
things, it appears in an immensely more glorious height
than ever before. Now it appears in its greatest magnifi
cence, as a complete lofty structure, whose top reaches to
the heaven of heavens ; a building worthy of the great
God, the King of kings.
And from what has been said, one may argue, that the
work of redemption is the greatest of all God's works of
which we have any notice, and it is the end of all his
other works. — It appears plainly from what has been said,
that this is the principal of all God's works of providence,
and that all are subordinate to the great affair of redemp
tion. We see that all the revolutions in the world are to
subserve this grand design. This shows how much greater
the work of redemption is, than the work of creation :
because it is the end of it ; as the use of a house is the
end of the building it. But the work of redemption, is
the sum of all God's works of providence ; all are sub
ordinate to it : so the work of the new creation is more
excellent than the old. So it ever is, that when one thing
is removed by God to make way for another, the new one
excels the old. Thus the temple excelled the tabernacle ;
the new covenant the old ; the new dispensation of the
gospel the dispensation of Moses ; the throne of David
the throne of Saul ; the priesthood of Christ the priesthood
of Aaron ; the new Jerusalem the old ; and so the new
creation far excels the old.
God has used the creation for no other purpose, but to
subserve the designs of this affair. To answer this end, he
hath created and disposed of mankind, to this the angels,
to this the earth, to this the highest heavens. God created
the world to provide a spouse and a kingdom for his Son :
and the setting up of the kingdom of Christ, and the
spiritual marriage of the spouse to him, is what the whole
creation labours and travails in pain to bring to pass. This
work of redemption is so much the greatest of all the
works of God, that all other works are to be looked upon
either as parts of it, or appendages to it, or are some way
reducible to it ; and so all the decrees of God some way
or other belong to that eternal covenant of redemption
which was between the Father and the Son before the
foundation of the world. Every decree of God is some
way or other reducible to that covenant. And seeing this
work of redemption is so great, we need not wonder that
the angels desire to look into it. And we need not wonder
that so much is made of it in Scripture, that it is so much

insisted on in the histories, and prophecies, and songs of
the Bible ; for the work of redemption is the great subject
of the whole, its doctrines, its promises, its types, its songs,
its histories, and its prophecies.
II. Hence we may learn how God is the Alpha and
Omega, the beginning and ending of all things. Such
are the characters and titles we find often ascribed to him
in Scripture. Isa. xii. 4. "Who hath wrought and done
it, calling the generations from the beginning ? I the Lord,
the first, and with the last, I am he." And particularly
does the Scripture ascribe such titles to God, where it
speaks of providence, as it relates to, and is summed up
in, the great work of redemption ; (as Isa. xliv. 6, 7. and
xlviii. 9 — 12.) Therefore, when Christ reveals the future
great events of providence relating to his church and
people, to his disciple John, he often reveals himself under
this character. Rev. i. 8. "I am Alpha and Omega, the
beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and
which was, and which is to come, the Almighty." So
again, ver. 10, 11. "I heard behind me a great voice as
of a trumpet, saying, I am Alpha and Omega, the first
and the last." Alpha and Omega being the names of the
first and the last letters of the Greek alphabet, it signifies
the same as his being the first and the last, and the begin
ning and the ending : as Rev. xxi. 6. "And he said unto
me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning
and the end." And so chapter xxii. 12, 13. "And behold,
I come quickly ; and my reward is with me, to give every
man according as his work shall be. I am Alpha and
Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last."
We have seen on what design God began the course of
his providence in the beginning of the generations of men ;
and how he has all along carried things on agreeably to
the same design without ever failing ; and how at last the
conclusion and final issue of things are to God ; and
therefore may well now cry out with the apostle, Rom. xi.
33. "O the "depth of the riches both of the wisdom and
knowledge of God ! how unsearchable are his judgments,
and his ways past finding out!" and ver. 36. "For of
him, and through him, and to him, are all things : to
whom be glory for ever. Amen."
We have seen how other things came to an end one after
another ; how states, and kingdoms, and empires, fell, and
came to nothing, even the greatest and strongest of them ;
we have seen how the world has been often overturned,
and will be more remarkably yet ; we have seen how it
was first destroyed by water, and how at last it shall be
utterly destroyed by fire : but yet God remains the same
through all ages. He was before the beginning of this
course of things, and he will be after the end of them ;
(Psal. cii. 25, 26.) Thus God is he who is, and who was,
and who is to come.
We have seen, in a variety of instances, how all other
gods perish. Those in the nations about Canaan, and
throughout the Roman empire, are all destroyed, and their
worship long since overthrown. We have heard how An
tichrist, who has called himself a god on earth ; how Ma
homet, who claims religious honours ; how all the gods of
the heathen through the world, will come to an end ; and
how Satan, the great dragon, that old serpent, who has set
up himself as god of this world, will be cast into the lake
of fire, there to suffer his complete punishment : but Je
hovah remains, his kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
and of his dominion there is no end. We have seen what
mighty changes there have been in the world ; but God is
unchangeable, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.
We began at the head of the stream of divine providence,
and have traced it through its various windings, till we are
come to the end where it issues. As it began in God, so
it ends in him. God is tbe infinite ocean into which it
empties itself. — Providence is like a mighty wheel, whose
circumference is so high that it is dreadful, with the glory
of the God of Israel above upon it ; as it is represented in
Ezekiel's vision. We have seen the revolution of this
wheel, and how as it was from God, its return has been to
God again. All the events of divine providence are like
the links of a chain ; the first link is from God, and the
last is to him.
III. We may see by what has been said, how Christ
has in all things the pre-eminence. For he is the great

Part X.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE WHOLE.

617

Redeemer ; and therefore the work of redemption being
the sum of God's works of providence, shows the glory of
our Lord Jesus Christ, as being above all, and through all,
and in all. That God intended the world for his Son's use
in the affair of redemption is one reason why he created
the world by him, Eph. iii. 9 — 12. What has been said,
shows how all the purposes of God are purposed in Christ ;
and how he is before all, and above all. All things con
sist in him, are governed by him, and are for him, Colos.
i. 15 — 18. God makes him his first-born, higher than the
kings of the earth, and sets his throne above their thrones.
God has always upheld his kingdom, when others have
come to an end ; that appears at last above all, however
greatly opposed for so many ages. All other kingdoms
fell, but his kingdom is the last, and never gives place to
any other.
We see, that whatever changes there are, and however
highly Christ's enemies exalt themselves, yet he reigns in
uncontrolled power and immense glory : in the end, his
people are all perfectly saved and made happy, and all his
enemies become his footstool. — And thus God gives the
world to his Son for his inheritance.
IV. The consideration of what has been said, may
greatly serve to show us the consistency, order, and beauty,
of God's works of providence. If we behold events in
any other view, all will look like confusion, like the toss
ing of waves ; things will look as though one confused
revolution came to pass after another, merely by blind
chance, without any regular or certain end. Butif we con
sider the events of providence in the light in which they
have been set before us, and in which tbe Scriptures set
them before us, they appear an orderly series of events, all
wisely directed in excellent harmony and consistence,
tending all to one end. The wheels of providence are not
turned round by blind chance, but are full of eyes round
about, (as Ezekiel represents them,) and are guided by the
Spirit of God : where the Spirit goes, they go. All God's
works of providence, through all ages, meet at last, as so
many lines meeting in one centre.
God's work of providence, like that of creation, is but
one. The events of providence are not so many distinct,
independent works ; but rather so many different parts of
one work, one regular scheme. They are all united, just
as the several parts of one building : there are many stones,
many pieces of timber, but all are so joined, and fitly
formed together, that they make but one building ; they
have all but one foundation, and are united at last in one
top-stone. God's providence may not unfitly be compared to a
large and long river, having innumerable branches, begin
ning in different regions, and at a great distance one from
another, and all conspiring to one common issue. After
their very diverse and apparent contrary courses, they
all collect together, the nearer they come to their com
mon end, and at length discharge themselves at one
mouth into the same ocean. The different streams of this
river are apt to appear like mere confusion to us, because
of our limited sight, whereby we cannot see the whole at
once. A man who sees but one or two streams at a time,
cannot tell what their course tends to. Their course
seems very crooked, and different streams seem to run for
a while different and contrary ways : and if we view things
at a distance, there seem to be innumerable obstacles and
impediments in the way, as rocks and mountains, and the
like ; to hinder their ever uniting, and coming to the ocean ;
but yet if wo trace them, they all unite at last, all come to
the same issue, disgorging themselves in one into the same
great ocean. Not one of all the streams fail.
V. From the whole that has been said, we may strongly
argue, that the Scriptures are the word of God, because
they alone inform us what.God aims at, in his works. God
doubtless is pursuing some design, and carrying on some
scheme, in the various changes and revolutions which from
age to age came to pass in the world. It is most reason
able to suppose, that there is some certain great design to
which Providence subordinates all great successive changes
in affairs. It is reasonable to suppose, that all revolutions,
from the beginning of the world to the end of it, are but
the various parts of the same scheme, all conspiring to
bring to pass that great event which the great Creator and

Governor ofthe world has ultimately in view; and that the
scheme will not be finished, nor the design fully accom
plished, and the great and ultimate event fully brought to
Eass, till the end of the world, and the last revolution is
rought about.
Now there is nothing else that informs us what this
scheme and design of God in his works is, but the Holy
Scriptures. — Nothing else pretends to set in view the whole
series of God's works of providence from beginning to end,
and to inform us how all things were from God at first,
for what end they are, how they were ordered from the be
ginning, how they will proceed to the end of the world,
what they will come to at last, and how then all things
shall be to God. Nothing else but the Scriptures has any
pretence for showing any manner of regular scheme or drift
in those revolutions which God orders from age to age.
Nothing else pretends to show what God would effect by
the things which he has done, is doing, and will do ; what
he seeks and intends by them. Nothing else pretends to
show, with any distinctness or certainty, how the world
began, or to tell us the true original of things. Nothing but
the Scriptures set forth how God governed the world from
the beginning of the generations of men upon the earth, in
an orderly history ; and nothing else sets before us how he
will govern it to the end, by an orderly prophecy of future
events ; agreeable to the challenge which God makes to
the gods, and prophets, and teachers of the heathen, in Isa.
xii. 22, 23, " Let them bring them forth, and show us
what shall happen : let them show the former things what
they be, that we may consider them, and know the latter
end of them ; or declare us things for to come. Show the
things that are to come hereafter, that we may know that
ye are gods."
Reason shows, that it is fit and requisite, that the intel
ligent and rational beings ofthe world should know some
thing of God's scheme and design in his works : for they
doubtless are principally concerned. God's great design
in his works, is doubtless concerning his reasonable crea
tures, rather than brute beasts and lifeless things. The re
volutions by which God's great design is brought to pass,
are doubtless chiefly among them, and concern their state,
and not the state of things without life or reason. And
therefore surely it is requisite, that they should know some
thing of it ; especially since reason teaches, that God has
given his rational creatures a capacity of seeing him in his
works ; for this end, that they may see God's glory in
them, and give him that glory. But how can they see
God's glory in his works, if they do not know what his
design in them is, and what he aims at by what he is
doing in the world ?
Further, it is fit that mankind should be somewhat in
formed of God's design in the government of the world,
because they are made capable of actively falling in with
that design, of promoting it, and acting herein as his
friends and subjects. It is therefore reasonable to sup
pose, that God has given mankind some revelation to
inform them of this : but there is nothing else that does it
but the Bible. In the Bible this is done. Here we may
learn the first original of things, and have an orderly ac
count of the scheme of God's works from the beginning,
through those ages that are beyond the reach of all other
histories. Here we are told what God aims at in the
whole, what is the great end, how he has contrived the
grand design, and the great things he would accomplish. —
Here we have a most rational excellent account of this
matter, worthy of God, and exceedingly showing forth the
glory of his perfections, his majesty, his wisdom, his glo
rious holiness, grace, and love ; and his exaltation above
all, as the first and the last.
Here we are shown the various parts of the work of
providence, and how all are connected together in a regu
lar, beautiful, and glorious frame. In the Bible, we have
an account of the whole scheme of providence, from the
beginning of the world to the end of it, either in history
or prophecy, and are told what will become of things at
last ; how they will issue in the subduing of God's ene
mies, and in the salvation and glory of his church, and
setting up ofthe everlasting kingdom of his Son.
How rational, worthy, and excellent a revelation is this!
and how excellent a book is the Bible, which contains so

618

.HISTORY OF REDEMPTION.

Period III.

much beyond all other books in the world ! and what
characters are here of its being indeed a divine book ! a
book that the great Jehovah has given to mankind for
their instruction, without which we should be left in mi
serable darkness and confusion.
VI. From what has been said, we may see the glorious
majesty and power of God in this affair of redemption.
His glorious power appears in upholding his church for so
long a time, and carrying on this work ; upholding it
oftentimes when it was but as a little spark, or as smoking
flax, in which the fire was almost extinct, and the powers
of earth and hell combined to destroy it. Yet God has
never suffered them to quench it, and finally will bring
forth judgment unto victory. God glorifies his strength
in his church's weakness ; in causing his people, who are
like a number of little infants, finally to triumph over all
earth and hell ; so that they shall tread on the lion and
adder ; the young lion and dragon shall they trample under
foot. The glorious power of God appears in conquering
his many and mighty enemies by that person who was
once an infant in a manger, and appeared as a poor, weak,
despised man. He conquers them, and triumphs over
them in their own weapon, the cross.
The glorious majesty of God appears in conquering all
those mighty enemies ofthe church one age after another;
in conquering Satan, that proud and strong spirit, and all
his hellish host ; in bringing him down under foot, long
after he had vaunted himself as god of this world, and
when he did his utmost to support himself in his king
dom. Christ, our Michael, has overcome him, the devil
was cast out, and there was found no more place for him
in heaven; but he was cast out into the earth, and his
angels were cast out with him. — He is conquered in that
kingdom wherein his pride, and subtlety, and cruelty,
above all appears, viz. the kingdom of Antichrist. And
the glorious power of God appears in thus conquering the
devil, and bringing him under foot, after long time given
him to strengthen himself to his utmost. He was once
overthrown in his heathen Roman empire, after he had
been making himself strong in those parts of the world,
ever since the building of Babel. It appears also in over
throwing his kingdom more fatally and universally all over
the world, after he had another opportunity to strengthen
himself to his utmost for many ages, by setting up those
two great kingdoms of Antichrist and Mahomet, and to
establish his interest in the heathen world. We have seen
how these kingdoms of God's enemies look strong, as
though it was impossible to overthrow them ; yet, when
God appears, they seem to melt away, as the fat of lambs
before the fire, and are driven away as the chaff before the
whirlwind. Those mighty kingdoms of Antichrist and Mahomet,
which have made such a figure for so many ages, and
have trampled the world under foot, when God comes to
appear, will vanish away like a shadow, and will disap
pear of themselves, as the darkness in a room does, when
the light is brought in. What are God's enemies in his
hands ? How is their greatest strength weakness when he
rises up ! and how weak will they all appear together at
the day of judgment !. Thus we may apply those words
in the song of Moses, Exod. xv. 6. " Thy right hand, O
Lord, is become glorious in power : thy right hand, O Lord,
hath dashed in pieces the enemy." And how great doth
the majesty of God appear in overturning the world from
time to time, to accomplish his designs, and at last in
causing the earth and heavens to flee away, for the ad
vancement of the glory of his kingdom !
VII. From what has been said, we may see the glo
rious wisdom of God. It shows the wisdom of God in
creating the world, in that he has created it for such an
excellent use, to accomplish in it so glorious a work. And
it shows the wisdom of Divine Providence, that he brings
such great good out of such great evil, in making the fall
and ruin of mankind, which in itself is so sorrowful and
deplorable, an occasion of accomplishing such a glorious
work as redemption, and of erecting such a glorious build
ing, whose top should reach unto heaven, and of bringing
his elect to a state of such unspeakable happiness. And
how glorious doth the wisdom of God appear in that long
«ourse and series of great changes in the world, in bring

ing such order out of confusion, in so frustrating the most
subtle machinations, and in causing the greatest works of
Satan, those in which he has most glorified himself, to be
wholly turned into occasions of so much the more glo
rious triumph of his Son Jesus Christ ! And how won
derful is the wisdom of God, in bringing all such mani
fold and various changes and overturnings in the world
to such a glorious period at last, and in so directing all
the wheels of Providence by his skilful hand, that every
one of them conspires, as the manifold wheels of a most
curious machine, at last to strike out such an excellent
issue, such a manifestation of the divine glory, such hap
piness to his people, and such a glorious and everlasting
kingdom to his Son !
VIII. From what has been said, we may see the sta
bility of God's mercy and faithfulness to his people; how
he never forsakes his inheritance, and remembers his
covenant to them through all generations. Now we may
see what reason there was for the words of the text, " The
moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm
shall eat them like wool ; but my righteousness shall en
dure for ever and ever, and my salvation from generation
to generation." And now we may see abundant reason
for that name of God which he reveals to Moses, Exod.
iii. 14. "And God said unto Moses, lam that lam:"
i. e. I am the same that I was when I entered into cove
nant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and ever shall be
the same : 1 shall keep covenant for ever : I am self-suf
ficient, all sufficient, and immutable.
And now we may see the truth of Psalm xxxvi. 5, 6.
" Thy mercy, O Lord, is in the heavens ; and thy faith
fulness reacheth unto the clouds. Thy righteousness is
like the great mountains ; thy judgments are a great
deep." And if we consider what has been said, we need
not wonder that the psalmist, in the 136th Psalm, so often
repeats this, " For his mercy endureth tor ever ;" as if he
were in an ecstasy at the consideration of the perpetuity of
God's mercy to his church, delighted to think of it, and
knew not how but continually to express it. Let us with
like pleasure and joy celebrate the everlasting duration of
God^ mercy and faithfulness to his church and people,
and let us be comforted by it under all the dark circum
stances of the church of God, and all the uproar and con
fusions that are in the world, and all the threatenings of
the church's enemies. And let us take encouragement
earnestly to pray for those glorious things which God has
promised to accomplish for his church.
IX. Hence we may learn how happy a society the
church of Christ is. For all this great work is for them.
Christ undertook it for their sakes, and for their sakes he
carries it on ; it is because he has loved them with an
everlasting love. For their sakes he overturns states and
kingdoms. For their sakes he shakes heaven and earth.
He gives men for them, and people for their life. Since
they have been precious in God s sight, they have been
honourable ; and therefore he first gives the blood of his
own Son, and then gives the blood of all their enemies,
many thousands and millions, all nations that stand in
their way, as a sacrifice to their good.
For their sakes he made the world, and for their sakes he
will destroy it ; for their sakes he built heaven, and for their
sakes he makes his angels ministering spirits. Therefore
the apostle says, 1 Cor. iii. 21, &c. " All things are yours :
whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life,
or death, or things present, or things to come; all are
yours." How blessed is this people who are redeemed
from among men, and are the first-fruits unto God, and to
the Lamb ; who have God in all ages for their protection
and help! Deut. xxxiii. 29. " Happy art thou, O Israel :
who is like unto thee, O people saved by the Lord, the
shield of thy help, and who is the sword of thy excellency !
and thine enemies shall be found liars unto thee, and thou
shalt tread upon their high places."
Let who will prevail now, let the enemies of the church
exalt themselves as much as they will, these are the people
that shall finally prevail. The last kingdom shall finally be
theirs ; the kingdom shall finally be given into their hands,
and shall not be left to other people. We have seen to
what a blessed issue things shall finally be brought, and
what glory they shall arrive at, and remain in possession

Part X.

IMPROVEMENT OF THE WHOLE.

619

of, for ever and ever; after all the kingdoms ofthe world
are come to an end, and the earth is removed, and moun
tains are carried into the depth of the sea, or where the sea
was, and this lower earth shall all be dissolved. O happy
people, and blessed society ! Well may they spend an
eternity in praises and hallelujahs to him who hath loved
them, and will love them to eternity.
X. And, lastly, hence all wicked men, all that are in a
Christless condition, may see their exceeding misery.
You that are such, whoever you are, shall have no part or
lot in this matter. You are never the better for any of
these things : yea, your guilt is but so much the greater,
and the misery you are exposed to so much the more
dreadful. You are some of those against whom God, in
the progress of the work, exercises so much manifest
wrath ; some of those enemies who are liable to be made
Christ's footstool, to be ruled with a rod of iron, and to
be dashed in pieces. You are some of the seed of the
serpent, to bruise the head of which is one great design
of all this work. Whatever glorious things God accom
plishes for his church, they will not be glorious to you.
The most glorious times of the church are always the most
dismal to the wicked and impenitent. (Isa. lxvi. 14.) 
And so we find, wherever glorious things are foretold con
cerning the church, there terrible things are foretold concern
ing the wicked, its enemies. So it ever has been in remark
able deliverances wrought for the church, there has been
also a remarkable execution of wrath on its enemies.
When God delivered the children of Israel out of Egypt ;
at the same time be remarkably poured out his wrath on
Pharaoh and the Egyptians. When he brought them
into Canaan by Joshua, and gave them that good land,
he remarkably executed wrath upon the Canaanites.
When they were delivered out of their Babylonish cap
tivity, signal vengeance was inflicted on the Babylonians.
When the Gentiles were called, and the elect of God were
saved by the preaching of the apostles, Jerusalem and the
persecuting Jews were destroyed in a most awful manner.

I might observe the same concerning the glory accom
plished to the church in the days of Constantine, at the
overthrow of Satan's visible kingdom in the downfall of
Antichrist, and at the day of judgment. In all these in
stances, and especially in the last, there have been, or will
be, exhibited most awful tokens of the divine wrath against
the wicked.
God will indeed make use of you in this affair ; but it
will be for the glory of his justice, and not of his mercy.
The enemies of God are reserved for the triumph of
Christ's glorious power in overcoming and punishing them.
You are some of those who shall be consumed with this
accursed world after the day of judgment, when Christ
and his church shall triumphantly and gloriously ascend
to heaven. — Therefore let all who are in a Christless con
dition seriously consider these things, and not be like the
foolish people of the old world, who would not take
warning, when Noah told them, that the Lord was about
to bring a flood of waters upon the earth ; or like the
people of Sodom, who would not regard, when Lot told
them, that God would destroy that city, and would not
flee from the wrath to come, and so were consumed in that
terrible destruction.
And now I would say, to conclude my whole discourse
on this subject, " These sayings are faithful and true, and
blessed is he that keepeth these sayings. Behold Christ
cometh quickly, and his reward is with him, to render to
every man according as his work shall be. And he that is
unjust, shall be unjust still ; and he that is filthy, shall
be filthy still; and he that is holy, shall be holy still.
Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they
may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in
through the gates into the city : for without are dogs, and
sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idola
ters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie. He that
testifieth these things, saith, Surely I come quickly,—
Amen ; even so come, Lord Jesus.'

FIVE DISCOURSES
ON
IMPORTANT SUBJECTS,
NEARLY CONCERNING THE GREAT AFFAIR
OF THE
SOULS ETERNAL SALVATION,

VIZ.

L JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.
II. PRESSING INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD.
III. RUTH'S RESOLUTION.

IV. THE JUSTICE OF GOD IN THE DAMNATION OF
SINNERS.
V. THE EXCELLENCY OF JESUS CHRIST

DELIVERED AT NORTHAMPTON,
CHIEFLY AT THE TIME OF THE LATE WONDERFUI , POURING OUT OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD THERE.

Deut. iv. 9.— Take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, aud lest they
depart from thy heart all the days of thy life.

PREFACE.
The following discourses were all, excepting the last, delivered in the time of the late wonderful work of God's
power and grace in this place, and are now published * on the earnest desire of those to whom they were preached.
These particular discourses are fixed upon, and designed for the press, rather than others that were delivered in that
remarkable season, by their election. What has determined them in their choice, is the experience they hope they have
had of special benefit to their souls from these discourses. Their desire to have them in their hands from the press has been
long manifested, and often expressed to me ; their earnestness in it is evident from this, that though it be a year of the
greatest public charge to them that ever has been, by reason of the expense of building a new meeting-house, yet they
chose rather to be at this additional expense now, though it be very considerable, than to have it delayed another year.
I am fully sensible that their value for these discourses has arisen more from the frame in which they heard them, and
the good which, through the sovereign blessing of God, they have received, than any real worth in them. And what
ever the discourses are in themselves, yet those who heard them are not to be blamed or wondered at, if that is dear to
them, which they hope God has made a means of saving and everlasting benefit. They have much insisted on this
argument with me, to induce me to comply with their desire, viz. that they hoped the reading of these discourses
would have a tendency in some measure to renew the same effect in them that was wrought in the hearing, and revive
the memory of that great work of God, which this town has so much cause ever to remember ; which argument has been
of principal weight with me, to incline me to think it to be my duty to comply with their desire ; though I cannot say
there are no other considerations concurring to induce me to it.
With respect to the discourse on justification, besides the desire of my people to make it public, I have been advised
to it by certain reverend gentlemen, my fathers, that happened to be the hearers of it (or, at least, part of it) when
preached, whose opinion and advice, in such an affair, I thought should be of as great weight with me as of most that
I was acquainted with.
The beginning of the late work of God in this place was so circumstanced, that I could not but look upon it as a
remarkable testimony of God's approbation of the doctrine of justification by failh alone, here asserted and vindicated.
—By the noise that had a little before been raised in this county concerning that doctrine, people here seemed to have
their minds put into an unusual ruffle ; some were brought to doubt of that way of acceptance with God, which from
their infancy they had been taught to be the only way ; and many were engaged more thoroughly to look into the
grounds of those doctrines in which they had been educated.— The following discourse of justification, that was preached
(though not so fully as it is here printed) at two public lectures, seemed to be remarkably blessed, not only to establish
the judgments of many in this truth, but to engage their hearts in a more earnest pursuit of justification, in that way that
had been explained and defended; and at that time, while I was greatly reproached for defending this doctrine in the
pulpit, and just upon my suffering a very open abuse for it, God's work wonderfully brake forth amongst us, and
souls began to flock to Christ, as the Saviour in whose righteousness alone they hoped to be justified. So that this
was the doctrine on which this work in its beginning was founded, as it evidently was in the whole progress of it.
* Via. at Boston, 1738.

PREFACE. 621
A great objection that is made against the old protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone, and the scheme of
those divines that have chiefly defended it, by those that value themselves upon the new fashioned divinity, is, that the
scheme is too much incumbered with speculative niceties, and subtle distinctions, that, they say, serve only to involve
the subject in endless controversy and dispute ; whereas, their scheme, they suppose, is a plain, easy, and natural
account of things. But their prejudice against distinctions in divinity, I humbly conceive, is earned to a great
extreme. So great, so general, and loud a cry has been raised by modern philosophers and divines against the subtle
distinctions of the schoolmen, for their learned impertinence, that many are ready to start at any thing that looks like
nice distinction, and to condemn it for nonsense without examination. Upon the same account, we might expect to
have St. Paul's epistles, that are full of very nice distinctions, called nonsense and unintelligible jargon, had not they
the good luck to be universally received by all Christians, as part ofthe Holy Scriptures.
Our discovering the absurdity of the impertinent and abstruse distinctions of the school divines, may justly give us
a distaste of such distinctions as have a show of learning in obscure words, but convey no light to the mind ; but I can
see no reason why we should also discard those that are clear and rational, and can be made out to have their founda
tion in truth, although they may be such as require some diligence and attention of mind clearly to apprehend them.
So much of the Scripture scheme of justification as is absolutely necessary to salvation, may be very plain, and level
with the understandings of the weakest Christians ; but it does not therefore follow, that the Scripture teaches us no
more about it that would be exceeding profitable for us to know, and by gaining the knowledge of which, we may
obtain a more full and clear understanding of this doctrine, and be better able to solve doubts that may arise concern
ing it, and to defend it from the sophistry and cavils of subtle opposers.
1 1 is so in most of the great doctrines of Christianity, that are looked upon as first principles of the christian faith,
that though they contain something that is easy, yet they also contain great mysteries ; and there is room for progress
in the knowledge of them, and doubtless will be to the end of the world. But it is unreasonable, to expect that this
progress should be made in the knowledge of things that are high and mysterious, without accurate distinction and
close application of thought : and it is also unreasonable, to think that this dc .trine, of the justification of a sinner by
a mediator, should be without mysteries. We all own it to be a matter of pure revelation, above the light of natural
reason, and that it is what the infinite wisdom of God revealed in the gospel mainly appears in, that he hath found out
such a way of .reconciliation of which neither men nor angels could have thought. And after all, shall we expect that
this way, when found out and declared, shall contain nothing but what is obvious to the most cursory and superficial
view, and may be fully and clearly comprehended without some diligence, accuracy, and careful distinction ?
If the distinctions I have made use of in handling this subject are found to be inconsistent, trivial, and unscriptural
niceties, tending only to cloud the subject, I ought to be willing that they should be rejected ; but if on due examina
tion they are found both scriptural and rational, I humbly conceive that it will be unjust to condemn them, merely
because they are distinctions, under a notion that niceness in divinity never helps it, but always perplexes and darkens
it. It is to God's own revelation that I make my appeal, by which "alone we can know in what way he will be pleased
again to receive into favour those who have offended him and incurred his displeasure. If there be any part of the
scheme here laid down, or any distinction here used, not warranted by Scripture, let it be rejected ; and if any oppo
site scheme can be found that is more easy and plain, having fewer and more rational distinctions, and not demon
strably inconsistent with itself, and with the word of God, let it be received. Let the Arminian scheme of justification
by our own virtue be as plain and natural as it will, if at the same time it is plainly contrary to the certain and demon
strable doctrine of the gospel, as contained in the Scriptures, we are bound to reject it, unless we reject the Scriptures
themselves as perplexed and absurd, and make ourselves wiser than God, and pretend to know his mmd better than
This discourse on justification is printed much larger than it was preached ; but the practical discourses that follow
have but little added to them, and now appear in that very plain and unpolished dress in which they were first pre
pared and delivered ; which was mostly at a time when the circumstances of the auditory they were preached to, were
enough to make a minister neglect, forget, and despise such ornaments as politeness and modishness of style and
method, when coming as a messenger from God to souls deeply impressed with a sense of their danger of Gods ever
lasting wrath, to treat with them about their eternal salvation.— However unable I am to preach or write politely, if I
would yet I have this to comfort me under such a defect, that God has showed us he does not need such talents in
men to carry on his own work, and that he has been pleased to smile upon and bless a very plain unfashionable way of
preaching. And have we not reason to think, that it ever has been, and ever will be, God s manner, to bless the foolish
ness of preaching to save them that believe, let the elegance of language and excellency of style be carried to never so
great a height, by the learning and wit of the present and future ages ? _ _¦ , • _
What is published at the end, concerning the excellency of Christ, is added on my own motion ; thinking that a
discourse on such an evangelical subject would properly follow others that were chiefly awakening, and that something
of the excellency of the Saviour was proper to succeed those things that were to show the necessity of salvation. I
pitched upon that particular discourse, partly because I had been earnestly importuned for a copy of it for the press,
by some in another town in whose hearing it was occasionally preached.
I request every reader's candid acceptance and due improvement of what is here offered ; and especially would
earnestly beseech the people of my own charge, not to fail of improving these discourses to those purposes that they
have mentioned to me as the ends 'for which they desired to have them published, that I may have no cause to repent
of my labour in transcribing, nor they of their cost in printing them. Happy would it be for us, and an unspeakable
mercy of heaven, if God should bless what is here printed, so to revive the memory of the past great work ot <_ od
amongst us, and the lively impressions and sense of divine things that persons then had on their minds, and to cause
us to lament our declensions, so that the same work might renewedly break forth and go on amongst us ! Surely we
have seen much to excite our longings after such a mercy, and to encourage us to cry to God for it !

DISCOURSE I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

Rom. iv. 5.
But to him that worketh not, but believeth on' him that
justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righleoui-
ness.
The following things may be noted in this verse :
1. That justification respects a man as ungodly. This is
evident by these words,  that justifieth the ungodly;
which cannot imply less, than that God, in the act of justi
fication, has no regard to any thing in the person justified,
as godliness, or any goodness in him ; but that immediate
ly before this act, God beholds him only as an ungodly
creature ; so that godliness in the person to be justified is
not so antecedent to his justification as to' be the ground
of it. When it is said that God justifies the ungodly, it
is absurd to suppose that our godliness, taken as some
goodness in us, is the ground of our justification ; as, when
it is said that Christ gave sight to the blind, to suppose
that sight was prior to, and the ground of, that act of mercy
in Christ ; or as, if it should be said that such an one by
his bounty has made a poor man rich, to suppose that it
was the wealth of this poor man that was the ground of
this bounty towards him, and was the price by which it was
procured. 2. It appears, that by him that worketh not, in this verse,
is not meant one who merely does not conform to the
ceremonial law ; because he that worketh not and the un
godly, are evidently synonymous expressions, or what sig
nify the same, as appears by the manner of their connexion ;
if not, to what purpose is the latter expression, the ungod
ly, brought in ? The context gives no other occasion for
it, but to show, that by the grace of the gospel, God in
justification has no regard to any godliness of ours. The
foregoing verse is, " Now to him that worketh, is the re
ward not reckoned of grace, but of debt." In that verse,
it is evident, gospel grace consists in the reward being
given without works ; and in this verse, which immediate
ly follows it, and in sense is connected with it, gospel-grace
consists in a man's being justified as ungodly. By which
it is most plain, that by him that worketh not, and him
that is ungodly, are meant the same thing ; and that there
fore not only works of the ceremonial law are excluded in
this business of justification, but works of morality and
godliness. 3. It is evident in the words, that by the faith here
spoken of, by which we are justified, is not meant the same
thing as a course of obedience or righteousness, since the
expression by which this faith is here denoted, is believing
on him that justifies the ungodly.  They that oppose the
Solifidians, as they call them, greatly insist on it, that we
should take the words of Scripture concerning this doctrine
in their most natural and obvious meaning ; and how do
they cry out, of our clouding this doctrine with obscure
metaphors, and unintelligible figures of speech ? But is
this to interpret Scripture according to its most obvious
meaning, when the Scripture speaks of our believing on
him that justifies the ungodly, or the breakers of his law, to
say, that the meaning of it is performing a course of obedi
ence to his law, and avoiding the breaches of it? Believ
ing on God as ajustifier, certainly is a different thing from
submitting to God as a lawgiver ; especially believing on
him as a justifier of the ungodly, or rebels against the
lawgiver. 4. It is evident that the subject of justification is looked
upon as destitute of any righteousnes. in himself, by that

expression, it is counted or imputed to him for righteous
ness. — The phrase, as the apostle uses it here and in the
context, manifestly imports, that God of his sovereign grace
is pleased, in his dealings with the sinner, so to regard one
that has no righteousness, that the consequence shall be the
same as if he had. This however may be from the respect
it bears to some thing that is indeed righteous. It is plain
that this is the force of theexpression in the precedingverses.
In the last verse but one, it is manifest, the apostle lays
the stress of his argument for the free grace of God —
from that text of the Old Testament about Abraham — on
the word counted or imputed; and this is the thing that he
supposed God to show his grace in, viz. in this counting
something for righteousness, m his consequential dealings
with Abraham, that was no righteousness in itself. And
in the next verse which immediately precedes the text,
" Now to him that worketh, is the reward not reckoned of
grace, but of debt," the word there translated reckoned, is
the same that in the other verses is rendered imputed, and
counted: and it is as much as if the apostle had said, "As
to him that works, there is no need of any gracious reckon
ing or counting it for righteousness, and causing the reward
to follow as if it were a righteousness ; for if he has works,
he has that which is a righteousness in itself, to which the
reward properly belongs." This is further evident by the
words that follow, verse 6. " Even as David also describ
ed the blessedness of the man unto whom God imputeth
righteousness without works." What can here be meant
by imputing righteousness without works, but imputing
righteousness to him that has none of his own ? verse 7,
8. " Saying, Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven,
and whose sins are covered : blessed is the man to whom
the Lord will not impute sin." How are these words of
David to the apostle's purpose ? or how do they prove any
such thing, as that righteousness is imputed without works,
unless it be because the word imputed is used, and the
subject of the imputation is mentioned as _ sinner, and
consequently destitute of a moral righteousness ? For
David says no such thing, as that he is forgiven without
the works of the ceremonial law ; there is no hint of the
ceremonial law, or reference to it, in the words. — I will
therefore venture to infer this doctrine from the words, for
the subject of my present discourse, viz.
That we are justified only by faith in Christ, and not by
any manner of virtue or goodness qf our own.
Such an assertion as this, 1 am sensible, many would be
ready to call absurd, as betraying a great deal of ignorance,
and containing much inconsistence; but I desire every
one's patience till I have done.
In handling this doctrine, I would,
I. Explain the meaning of it, and show how I would be
understood by such an assertion.
II. Proceed to the consideration of the evidence of the
truth of it.
III. Show how evangelical obedience is concerned in
this affair.
IV. Answer objections.
V. Consider the importance of the doctrine.
LI would explain the meaning of the doctrine, or show
in what sense I assert it, and would endeavour to evince
the truth of it : which may be done in answer to these
two inquiries, viz. 1 . What is meant by being justified 1
2. What is meant when it is said, that this is, " by faith

Disc. I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

623

alone, without any manner of virtue or goodness of our
own? First, I would show what justification is, or what I
suppose is meant in Scripture by being justified.
A person is said to be justified, when he is approved of
God as free from the guilt of 'sin and its deserved punish
ment, and as having that righteousness belonging to him
that entitles to the reward of life. That we should take
the word in such a sense, and understand it as the judge's
accepting a person as having both a negative and positive
righteousness belonging to him, and looking on him there
fore as not only free from any obligation to punishment,
but also as just and righteous, and so entitled to a positive
reward, is not only most agreeable to the etymology and
natural import of the word, which signifies to pass one for
righteous in judgment, but also manifestly agreeable to
the force of the word as used in Scripture.
Some suppose that nothing more is intended in Scripture
by justification, than barely the remission of sins. If so,
it is very strange, if we consider the nature of the case ;
for it is most evident, and none will deny, that it is with
respect to the rule or law of God we are under, that we are
said in Scripture to be either justified or condemned. Now
what is it to justify a person as the subject of a law or
rule, but to judge him as standing right with respect to
that rule ? To justify a person in a particular case, is to
approve of him as standing right, as subject to the law in
that case ; and to justify in general is to pass him in judg
ment, as standing right in a state correspondent to the law
or rule in general : but certainly, in order to a person's
being looked on as standing right with respect to the rule
in general, or in a state corresponding with the law of God,
more is needful than not having the guilt of sin ; for
whatever that law is, whether a new or an old one, doubt
less something positive is needed in order to its being
answered. W e are no more justified by the voice of the
law, or of him that judges according to it, by a mere
pardon of sin, than Adam, our first surety, was justified by
the law, at the first point of his existence, before he had
fulfilled the obedience of the law, or had so much as any
trial whether he would fulfil it or no. If Adam had
finished his course of perfect obedience, he would have
been justified : and certainly his justification would have
implied something more than what is merely negative ; he
would have been approved of, as having fulfilled the
righteousness of the law, and accordingly would have been
adjudged to the reward of it. So Christ, our second
surety, (in whose justification all whose surety he is, are
virtually justified,) was not justified till he had done the
work the Father had appointed him, and kept the Father's
commandments through all trials ; and then in his resur
rection he was justified. When he had been put to death
in the flesh, but quickened by the spirit, 1 Pet. iii. 18. then
he that was manifest in the flesh was justified in the spirit,
1 Tim. iii. 16. ; but God, when he justified him in raising
him from the dead, did not only release him from his
humiliation for sin, and acquit him from any further suffer
ing or abasement for it, but admitted him to that eternal
and immortal life, and to the beginning of that exaltation
that was the reward of what he had done. And indeed
the justification of a believer is no other than his being
admitted to communion in the justification of this head
and surety of all believers ; for as Christ suffered the
punishment of sin, not as a private person, but as our
surety; so when after this suffering he was raised from
the dead, he was therein justified, not as a private person,
but as the surety and representative of all that should
believe in him. So that he was raised again not only for
his own, but also for our justification, according to the
apostle, Rom. iv. 25. " Who was delivered for our
offences, and raised again for our justification." And
therefore it is that the apostle says, as he does in Rom. viii.
34. " Who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that died,
yea rather, that is risen again."
But that a believer's justification implies not only remis
sion of sins, or acquittance from the wrath due to it, but
also an admittance to a title to that glory which is the
reward of righteousness, is more directly taught in the
Scripture, particularly in Rom. v. 1, 2. where the apostle
mentions both these as joint benefits implied in justifica

tion : " Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace
with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom also
we have access into this grace wherein we stand, and
rejoice in hope of the glory of God." So remission of
sin, and inheritance among them that are sanctified, are
mentioned together as what are jointly obtained by faith in
Christ, Acts xxvi. 18. " That thev may receive forgiveness
of sins, and inheritance among them that are sanctified,
through faith that is in me." Both these are without
doubt implied in that passing from death to life, which
Christ speaks of as the fruit of faith, and which he op
poses to condemnation, John v. 24. " Verily I say unto
you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that
sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into con
demnation ; but is passed from death unto life." I pro
ceed now,
Secondly, To show what is meant when it is said, that
this justification is by faith only, and not by any virtue or
goodness of our own.
This inquiry may be subdivided into two, viz.
1 . How it is by faith. 2. How it is by faith alone, with
out any manner of goodness of ours.
1. How justification is by faith. — Here the great diffi
culty has been about the import and force of the particle
by, or what is that influence that faith has in the affair of
justification that is expressed in Scripture by being justified
by faith.
Here, if I may humbly express what seems evident to
me, though faith be indeed the condition of justification so
as nothing else is, yet this matter is not dearly and suf
ficiently explained by saying that faith is the condition of
justification ; and that because the word seems ambiguous,
both in common use, and also as used in divinity. In
one sense, Christ alone performs the condition of our justi
fication and salvation ; in another sense, faith is the
condition of justification ; in another sense, other qualifi
cations and acts are conditions of salvation and justifica
tion too. There seems to be a great deal of ambiguity in
such expressions as are commonly used, (which yet we are
forced to use,) such as condition of salvation, what is
required in order to salvation or justification, the terms of
the covenant, and the like ; and I believe they are under
stood in very different senses by different persons. And
besides, as the word condition is very often understood in
the common use of language, faith is not the only thing in
us that is the condition of justification ; for by the word
condition, as it is very often (and perhaps most commonly)
used, we mean any thing that may have the place of a
condition in a conditional proposition, and as such is truly
connected with the consequent, especially if the propo
sition holds both in the affirmative and negative, as the
condition is either affirmed or denied. If it be that with
which, or which being supposed, a thing shall be, and
without which, or it being denied, a thing shall not be, we
in such a case call it a condition of that thing. But in
this sense faith is not the only condition of salvation or
justification ; for there are many things that accompany
and flow from faith, with which justification shall be, and
without which it will not be, and therefore are found to be
put in Scripture in conditional propositions with justifica
tion and salvation, in multitudes of places ; such are love
to God, and love to our brethren, forgiving men their
trespasses, and many other good qualifications and acts.
And there are many other things besides faith, which are
directly proposed to us, to be pursued or performed by us,
in order to eternal life, which if they are done, or obtained,
we shall have eternal life, and if not done, or not obtain
ed, we shall surely perish. And if faith was the only
condition of justification in this sense, I do not apprehend
that to say faith was the condition of justification, would
express the sense of that phrase of Scripture, of being
justified by faith. There is a difference between being
justified by a thing, and that thing universally, necessarily,
and inseparably attending justification ; for so do a great
many things that we are not said to be justified by. It is
not the inseparable connexion with justification that the
Holy Ghost would signify (or that is naturally signified)
by such a phrase, but some particular influence that faith
has in the affair, or some certain dependence that effect
has on Its influence.

624

FIVE DISCOURSES.

Some, aware of this, have supposed, that the influence
or dependence might well be expressed by faith's being
the instrument of our justification ; which has been mis
understood, and injuriously represented, and ridiculed by
those that have denied the doctrine of justification by faith
alone, as though they had supposed faith was used as an
instrument in the hand of God, whereby he performed
and brought to pass that act of his, viz. approving and
justifying the believer. Whereas it was not intended that
faith was the instrument wherewith God justifies, but the
instrument wherewith we receive justification; not the
instrument wherewith the justifier acts in justifying, but
wherewith the receiver of justification acts in accepting
justification. But yet, it must be owned, this is an obscure
way of speaking, and there must certainly be some impro
priety in calling it an instrument wherewith we receive or
accept justification ; for the very persons who thus explain
the matter, speak of faith as being the reception or accept
ance itself; and if so, how can it be the instrument of re
ception or acceptance? Certainly there is a difference
between the act and the instrument. Besides, by their
own descriptions of faith, Christ, the mediator by whom,
and his righteousness by which, we are justified, is more
directly the object of this acceptance and justification,
which is the benefit arising therefrom more indirectly;
and therefore, if faith be an instrument, it is more pro
perly the instrument by which we receive Christ, than
the instrument by which we receive justification.
But I humbly conceive we have been ready to look too
far to find out what that influence of faith in our justifica
tion is, or what is that dependence of this effect on faith,
signified by the expression of being justified by faith, over
looking that which is most obviously pointed forth in the
expression, viz- that (there being a mediator that has pur
chased justification) faith in this mediator is that which
renders it a meet and suitable thing, in the sight of God,
that the believer, rather than others, should have this pur
chased benefit assigned to him. — There is this benefit pur
chased, which God sees it to be a more meet and suitable
thing that it should be assigned to some rather than others,
because he sees them differently qualified ; that qualifica
tion wherein the meetness to this benefit, as the case
stands, consists, is that in us by which we are justified.
If Christ had not come into the world and died, &c. to
purchase justification, no qualification whatever in us could
render it a meet or fit thing that we should be justified.
But the case being as it now stands, viz. that Christ has
actually purchased justification by his own blood for in
finitely unworthy creatures, there may be certain qualifi
cations found in some persons, which, either from the rela
tion it bears to the mediator and his merits, or on some
other account, is the thing that in the sight of God renders
it a meet and condecent thing, that they should have an
interest in this purchased benefit, and of which if any are
destitute, it renders it an unfit and unsuitable thing that
they should have it. The wisdom of God in his consti
tutions doubtless appears much in the fitness and beauty
of them, so that those things are established to be done
that are fit to be done, and that those things are connected
in his constitution that are agreeable one to another. So
God justifies a believer according to his revealed constitu
tion, without doubt, because he sees something in this
qualification that, as the case stands, renders it a fit thing
that such should be justified ; whether it be because faith
is the instrument, or as it were the hand, by which he that
has purchased justification is apprehended and accepted,
* " Our Saviour compares his mystical body, that is his church, to a
vine, which bis Father, whom he compares to a husbandman, hath plant
ed ; 7 am the true vine, and my Father is tlie husbandman. To repre
sent to us the union that is betwixt Christ and all true Christians, and the
influence of grace and spiritual life, which all tbat are united to bim do
derive and receive from him, he sets it forth to us by the resemblance of a
vine and branches. As there is a natural vital union between the vine and
the branches, so there is a spiritual union between Christ and true Chris
tians ; and this union is the cause of our fruit fulness in the works of obe
dience and a good life. There are some indeed that seem to be grafted
into Christ by an jutward profession of Christianity, who yet derive no in
fluence from bim. so as to bring forth fruit, because they are not vitally
united to him " — Dr. Tillotson in his 3rd vol. of Serm. p. 307.
By this it appears that the vital union between Chnst and true Chris
tians, wbich is much more of a mystery than the relative union, and ne
cessarily implies it, was not thought an unreasonable doctrine by one of
the greatest divines on the other side of the question in hand.
t The word " union," in this connexion, is both more intelligible and
more appropriate, than the word relation ; since in this connexion the

or because it is the acceptance itself, or whatever else. To
be justified, is to be approved of God as a proper subject
of pardon, with a right to eternal life ; and therefore, when
it is said that we are justified by faith, what else can be
understood by it, than that faith is that by which we are
rendered approvable, fitly so, and indeed, as the case
stands, proper subjects of this benefit ?
This is something different from faith being the condition
of justification, though inseparably connected with justifi
cation. So are many other things besides faith ; and yet
nothing in us but faith renders it meet that we should have
justification assigned to us ; as I shall presently show in
answer to the next inquiry, viz.
2. How this is said to be by faith alone, without any
manner of virtue or goodness of our own. This may seem
to some to be attended with two difficulties, viz. how this
can be said to be by faith alone, without any virtue or
goodness of ours, when faith itself is a virtue, and one
part of our goodness, and is not only some manner of
goodness of ours, but is a very excellent qualification, and
one chief part of the inherent holiness of a Christian?
And if it be a part of our inherent goodness or excellency
(whether it be this part or any other) that renders it a con-
decent or congruous thing that we should have this benefit
of Christ assigned to us, what is this less than what they
mean who talk of a merit of congruity ? And moreover,
if this part of our christian holiness qualifies us, in the
sight of God, for this benefit of Christ, and renders it a fit
or meet thing, in his sight, that we should have it, why
should not other parts of holiness, and conformity to God,
which are also very excellent, and have as much of the
image of Christ in them, and are no less lovely in God's
eyes, qualify us as much, and have as much influence to
render us meet, in God's sight, for such a benefit as this ?
Therefore I answer,
When it is said, that we are not justified by any righte
ousness or goodness of our own, what is meant is, that it
is not out of respect to the excellency or goodness of any
qualifications or acts in us whatsoever, that God judges it
meet that this benefit of Christ should be ours ; and it is
not, in any wise, on account of any excellency or value
that there is in faith, that it appears in the sight of God a
meet thing, that he who believes should have this benefit
of Christ assigned to him, but purely from the relation
faith has to the person in whom this benefit is to be had,
or as it unites to that mediator, in and by whom we are
justified. Here, for the greater clearness, I would parti
cularly explain myself under several propositions.
(1.) It is certain that there is some union or relation
that the people of Christ stand in to him, that is expressed
in Scripture, from time to time, by being in Christ, and is
represented frequently by those metaphors of being members
of Christ, or being united to him as members to the head,
and branches to the stock,* and is compared to a marriage
union between husband and wife. I do not now pretend
to determine of what sort this union is ; nor is it necessary
to my present purpose to enter into any manner of dis
putes about it. If any are disgusted at the word union, as
obscure and unintelligible, the word relation equally
serves my purpose. I do not now desire to determine
any more about it, than all, of all sorts, will readily allow,
viz. that there is a peculiar relation between true Chris
tians and Christ, which there is not between him and
others ; and which is signified by those metaphorical ex
pressions in Scripture, of being in Christ, being members
of Christ, &c.f
latter is the consequence of the former. As the doctrine of a vital union
to Christ is fundamentally important in Christianity, and inseparable from
the doctrine of justification ; and as our author passes it over with so much
brevity, a few observations upon it in this place may appear the more
needful. 1. The Scriptures are notonlyfull of the /acr, but they abound with i71«s-
trations of it. The first part of John xv. is full and explicit to this purpose.
2. What the Scriptures assert, and illustrate, is abundantly corroborated
by tbe reasonableness ofthe thing. To suppose tbe reality ot vital religion
without a corresponding vital union, is to suppose an important effect with
out an adequate cause, as shall be further shown.
3. The question then is. What is the immediate cause of this vital union ?
Now as the union subsisting is between the Spirit of Christ, and man, the
immediate cause must be in the one or the other of these, or in both at the
same instant, or in neither. If the immediate cause be in Man, be makes his
approach to Christ either as a carnal or a spiritual man, for there is no con
ceivable medium. But the idea of a carnal man uniting himself to Christ
in order to form a vital union, is both unscriptural and unreasonable. It is
unscriptural,' for the scripture asserts that " The carnal mind is enmity

Disc. 1.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE

625

(2.) This relation or union to Christ, whereby Christians
are said to be in Christ, (whatever it be,) is the ground of
their right to his benefits. This needs no proof; the
reason of the thing, at first blush, demonstrates it. It is
exceeding evident also by Scripture, 1 John v. 12. " He
that hath the Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the Son,
hath not life/' 1 Cor. i. 30. « Of him are ye in Christ
Jesus, who of God is made unto us— righteousness." First
we must be in him, and then he will be made righteous
ness or justification to us. Eph. i. 6. " Who hath made
us accepted in the beloved.'' Our being in him is the
ground of our being accepted. So it is in those unions to
which the Holy Ghost has thought fit to compare this.
The union of the members of the bodv with the head, is
the ground of their partaking of the li'fe of the head ; it
is the union of the branches to the stock, which is the
ground of their partaking of the sap and life of title stock ;
it is the relation .of the wife to the husband, that is the
ground of her joint interest in his estate ; they are looked
upon, in several respects, as one in law. So there is a
legal union between Christ and true Christians ; so that
fas all except Socinians allow) one, in some respects, is
accepted for the other by the Supreme Judge.
(3.) And thus it is that faith is the qualification in any
person that renders it meet in the sight of God that he
should be looked upon as having Christ's satisfaction and
righteousness belonging to him, viz, because it is that in
him which, on his part, makes up this union between him
and Christ. By what has been just now observed, it is a
person's being, according to scripture phrase, in Christ,
that is the ground of having his satisfaction and merits
belong to him, and a right to the benefits procured there-
against God ;" how then can it be the cause of a vital union ? " Of him are
ye in Christ Jesus;"—" and you hath be quickened, who were dead in
trespasses and sins :" — it is not therefore the carnal man that unites himself
to Christ, or quickens himself in order to effect it. It is also unreasonable ;
for it supposes a glorious effect without an adequate cause. The effect
is spiritual, while the cause is carnal, which are not only different but even
directly opposite. What ideas can be more contradictory, or sentiment
mare unreasonable?
4. The supposition of two simultaneous causes, the one being tlie Spirit of
Christ, and the other the carnal man, involves the same inconsistency. For
how can the mere circumstance of time, irrespective of causal influence,
make any difference ? If the carnal mind be adequate to unite itself to
Christ at one time, why not at another time as well, except some causal
influence makes tbe difference ? For surely no one can suppose that some
individual moment of time, as distinguished from others preceding, consti
tutes the cause of difference.
5. To suppose a spiritual man, whether by the exercise of his faith or by
any other mental act, in the cause of a vital union, is no less inconsistent
than the former suppositions. For how came he to be a spiritual man
without a spiritual causal influence ? But if such influence be admitted as
a predisposing cause of his vital acts, it is incumbent on the objector to
show that such causal influence may take place without vital union. Tbis,
I am persuaded, no one can do. It is contrary to all analogy, and to every
sound principle of true philosophy. It is contrary to Christian experience
and revealed statements. What effect in physical nature can be produced,
which does not imply a causal union? Does not the divine energy pervade
all second causes in the way of union with them, in order to the production
of their effects ? and what miraculous effects have ever been produced
without a present uniting cause ? For instance, when Lazarus came forth
from death to life, was there not an uniting causal influence to produce the
change ? and if we appeal to an experienced intelligent Christian, will he
not own, will be not maintain, according to his views of revealed truth, that
the powerful, the quickening, and uniting presence, the vital and transform
ing energy of the Spirit of God or of Christ in him, was the cause of his
own vitality ? Nay, would he not be shocked to hear any one maintain the
contrary ?
6. Perhaps, it may be thought, that— though in the great laboratory of
physical nature, in the bowels of the earth and in the surrounding atmos-
fihere, a causal union be necessary to produce chemical effects ; and that
hough in all works of mechanism a causal union is requisite to the exist
ence of mechanical effects; and that, moreover, though the sun by his
light and heat produces an effect upon objects by a causal union with them ;
yet, what shall we say of one body affecting a change of situation in ano
ther, at an immense distance ? Does not the sun powerfully attract all the
planets that surround him, however distant ? and how can this be by causal
union? This objection admits of two answers.
7, First, it has never been proved, that there is no causal union between
these bodies adequate to the effect ; while on the contrary several philoso
phers have at least attempted to show its existence. The solar system, for
ought we know, may be perfectly mechanical, though we should never be
able to perceive the intermediate parts.
8. Secondly, as the universe in general depends on the causal presence of
the first cause, so must every part of it ; Scnpture and reason assure us that
in God we live, and move, and have our being. Therefore, whether there
be any intermediate cause of gravitation or not, between the effect and the
first cause, a causal union is still necessary to the effect What difference
there is, lies against the objector. For if there be no intermediate cause of
gravitation, the presence, the energy, the causal union of the first cause is
proportionally the more immediate.
9. Having shown that neither the carnal man nor the spiritual man is the
immediate cause of the union subsisting between Christ and the Christian,
it remains to be ascertained, what else is the cause? If it be not man it
must be the Divine Spirit, either as the Spirit of the Father or of Christ.
In one view this difference is not very material, but in another it is of con
siderable importance. Allow it to be from the Holy Spirit, in either sense,
it secures the great point of salvation by grace, in opposition to our own
merit. But, as it respects the nature of Christ's mediation, and particular
ly bis federal headship and suretiship, it is of moment to ascertain, whether
he or the Father, economically, be the immediate cause of the vital union.
VOL. I. 2 S

by. The reason of it is plain; it is easy to see how our
having Christ's merits and benefits belonging to us, fol
lows From our having (if I may so speak) Christ himself
' belonging to us, or our being united to him. And if so,
it must also be easy to see how, or in what manner, that
in a person, which on his part makes up the union between
his soul and Christ, should be the thing on the account of
which God looks on it as meet that he should have Christ's
merits belonging to him. It is a very different thing for
God to assign to a particular person a right to Christ's
merits and benefits from regard to a qualification in him in
this respect, from his doing it for him out of respect to the
value or loveliness of that qualification, or as a reward of
its excellency.
As there is nobody but what will allow that there is a
peculiar relation between Christ and his true disciples, by
which they are in some sense in Scripture said to be one ;
so I suppose there is nobody but what will allow, that
there may be something that the true Christian does on his
part, whereby he is active in coming into this relation or
union ; some uniting act, or that which is done towards
this union or relation (or whatever any please to call it)
on the Christian's part. Now faith I suppose to be this
act. I do not now pretend to define justifying faith, or to de
termine precisely how much is contained in it, but only
to determine thus much concerning it, viz. That it is that
by which the soul, which before was separate and alien
ated from Christ, unites itself to him, or ceases to be any
longer in that state of alienation, and comes into that fore-
mentioned union or relation to him ; or, to use the scrip
ture phrase, it is that by which the soul comes to Christ,
10. The Scripture fully declares that the influence of the Spirit on the
minds of men is from Christ. The Lord from heaven is a quickening
Spirit — he quickeneth whom he will —he sends the Holy Ghost— he gives
repentance, or the spirit of repentance— in him was life, (without whom no
thing was created, ) and tbis life is the true light of men — he shines into the
heart — his grace and strength constitute our sufficiency — &c. These and
other passages innumerable show, that quickening influence proceeds from
his fulness of life and grace.
11. That other passages ascribe spiritual effects to the Holy Spirit, or the
Spirit of God, is of no force, except with such as deny the divine nature of
Christ, who are confuted on other grounds. But supposing his divine nature
in union with humanity, the Spirit of God is the Spirit of Christ, and vice
versa. And in the divine economy of grace, Christ is the head or source
of influence to tbe church. It is he who gives gifts to the rebellious, who
endows with the spirit of life, and who bestows the living water to which
divine influence is compared.
12. And how beautifully consistent must this appear when we consider,
that as a covenant head he is the surety of his chosen people ! Tbe office
of a surety engages to perform what is requisite in behalf ot a person or per
sons as required by another. Thus Jesus not only brought in an everlast
ing righteousness in behalf of his people as their federal perfection, in lieu of
those who could never attain to it by any obedience of their own ; but it also
belonged to his office to secure for them a voluntary, penitential, believing
obedience to the equitable requisitions of the divine Governor. This can be
effected only by olivine influence, and that influence must needs proceed
from him as the immediate cause; otherwise we make the creditor and
surety to be the very same. God, as governor, demands obedience from all
the subjects of his government ; and Christ, as the surety of those who were
given him, enables them to comply with those demands, that is, to submit,
to repent, to believe with the heart, to love God, and to walk witb him.
13, From the premises it follows plainly, that the immediate cause of
vital union is the Spirit of Christ, which he bestows in the exercise of his
office as the federal head of influence, and in virtue of his suretiship for his
church and people. He as the true vine communicates life to the branches,
and as the head of Ms church brings dead souls to be his living members.
Faith is a fruit of the Spirit, and not the cause of a spiritual existence. Yet,
14. We maintain that faith forms a consequent union. Man being a
subject of moral government, and therefore a free agent, at liberty to choose
his end and means of haiipiness for which he is accountable ; and God in
infinite mercy proposing Jesus as the way, the truth, and the life ; the all-
sufficient and only Saviour of sinners — in whom we are required to believe
and to trust with confidence, and whom we are encouraged to receive into
our hearts, that he may dwell there by faith— tbe regenerate soul, by
believing, unites itself to this object.
15. The former union is the immediate effect of sovereign favour ; the
latter union is the immediate effect of exercised grace ; in tlie performance
of an incumbent duty, er the discharge of moral obligation. Now since
men are exhorted, warned, directed, reasoned, and expostulated with, oti
the ground of what they ought to do or abstain from doing, the Scripture
abounds with such addresses. But lest any false inferences should be
drawn, derogatory from the honours of sovereign grace, we are assured that
every good and perfect gift cometh from the Father of lights. When we
have done all we are unprofitable servants. Work out your own salvation,
says Paul, with fear and trembling ; for it is God who worketh in you both
to will and to do of his own good pleasure. No one can come unto me ex
cept the Father who hath sent me draw him, that is, without divine in
fluence; and whosoever cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out Ye
have not chosen me, but I have chosen you. Ye are saved by grace,
through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God. Among
many other parts of Scripture where grace and obligation are strikingly
intermixed, and illustrative of the preceding remarks, the reader is particu
larly referred to the sixth and fifteenth chapters of St. John's Gospel.
lo. Coroll. The old mode, adopted by many orthodox divines, of distin
guishing the vital union between Christ and his people, first, on his part,
and secondly, on their part, is founded on Scripture and the reason of the
thing; and the former is the cause ofthe latter. And therefore, as the cause
must ever precede the effect, the first union not only may be prior to the
second, as in the case' of happy infants, hut also must be so in the case of
adults.— W

G2G

FIVE DISCOURSES.

and receives him: and this is evident by the Scriptures
using these very expressions to signify faith. John vi, 35
— 39. " He that cometh to me, shall never hunger ; and he
that believeth on me, shall never thirst. But I said unto
you, that ye also have seen me and believe not. All that
the Father giveth me, shall come to me ; and him that
cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out. For I came
down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will
of him that sent me." Ver. 40. " And this is the will of
him that sent me, that every one which seeth the Son, and
believeth on him, may have everlasting life ; and I will
raise him up at the last day." Chap. v. 38 — 40. 
" Whom he nath sent, him ye believe not. Search the
Scriptures, for — they are they which testify of me. And
ye will not come unto me, that ye might have life." Ver.
43, 44. " I am come in my Father's name, and ve receive
me not : if another shall come in his own name, him ye will
receive. How can ye believe, which receive honour one of
another — ?" Chap. i. 12. " But as many as received him,
to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even
to them that believe on his name." If it be said that these
are obscure figures of speech, which, however they might
be well understood of old among those who commonly
used such metaphors, are with difficulty understood now.
I allow, that the expressions of receiving Christ and coming
to Christ, are metaphorical expressions ; and if I should
allow them to be obscure metaphors, yet thus much at
least is certainly plain in them, viz. that faith is that by
which those who before were separated, and at a distance
from Christ, (that is to say, were not so related and united
to him as his people are,) cease to be any longer at such a
distance, and come into that relation and nearness ; unless
they are so unintelligible, that nothing at all can be un
derstood by them.
God does not give those that believe an union with or
an interest in the Saviour as a reward for faith, but only
because faith is the soul's active uniting with Christ, or is
itself the very act of unition, on their part. God sees it
ht, that in order to an union being established between two
intelligent active beings or persons, so as that they should
be looked upon as one, there should be the mutual act of
both, that each should receive other, as actively joining
themselves one to another. God, in requiring this in order
to an union with Christ as one of his people, treats men as
reasonable creatures, capable of act and choice ; and Jience
sees it fit that they only who are one with Christ by their
* The term here used, " moral congruity," is not happily chosen. In
deed our author, in the next sentence, professes himself to be at a loss
what terms to use which may clearly convey the necessary distinction.
By " moral" congruity or fitness he seems to mean personal perfection, or
a perfection of state personally considered, without relation to a surety, or
the righteousness which God has provided. But this is an acceptation of
the term " moral'1 so unusual as to throw great perplexity into the argu
ment Beside, when contrasted with believing, it leaves the reader to sup
pose that ro believe is not a moral act. But the supposition that " believing
with the heart unto righteousness1' is not a moral act, as contradistinguished
from a natural one, leads to an endless confusion of ideas. Surely, to be
lieve God's testimony concerning his Son and his righteousness is, if any
thing be, a moral act of obedience to divine authority. How then can it be
called a natural fitness only, as contrasted with what is moral? Nor is
the distinction at all necessary in order to avoid the apprehended conse
quence of assigning to faith any merit of congruity. A few observations on
this intricate subject may probably assist the reader in seeking scriptural
and consistent notions.
1. Justification impUes a charge, a plea, and a virtual declaration of ap
proval. 2. The charge against Adam and all his posterity is twofold, including a
bleach of covenant, or a failure in federal perfection ; and also disobedi
ence in transgressing a divine rule. These considerations are perfectly
distinct in their nature. A rule may be momentarily transgressed for a
long series of years, as it was by Adam, and constantly is by his rebellious
descendants, but a federal failure was, from the nature of perfect righteous
ness, the very first act of delinquency.
3. No plea can be valid against a federal delinquency, as was the case
in Adam, but a participation of a federal perfection. Nothing less can
answer the charge, and nothing more is requisite. This averts condemna
tion, and entitles to a virtual approval in reference to that part of the
charge. 4. 1.0 plea can be valid against disobedience to divine authority, or the
rule of moral government, but a personal, voluntary, actual compliance
with that authoritative rule of government ; which we find by divine reve
lation to be, in reference to fallen man, submission to the righteousness of
God; or, as differently expressed, believing on the Son of God, receiving
him as the Lord our righteousness, he,
5. No man has possessed & federal perfection, except by imputation,
beside tbe first Adam while he obeyed without failure, and the second
Adam when he completed his work of humiliation. For no eminence of
grace in a mere descendant of Adam could possibly attain to federal per
fection, from the very nature of such perfection. Nor indeed can the per
fect obedience of glorified saints rise higher than a conformity to the divine
law as a rule ; their federal perfection is still derived from their union to
Christ, and a consequent imputation, which implies a virtual approval.
Hence, 6. The federal perfection of Messiah is the proper and sole ground of

own act, should be looked upon as one in law. What is
real in tlie union between Christ and his people, is the
foundation of what is legal; that is, it is something really
in them, and between them, uniting them, that is the
ground of the suitableness of their being accounted as one
by the Judge. And if there be any act or qualification in
believers of that uniting nature, that it is meet on that ac
count the Judge should look upon them and accept them
as one, no wonder that upon tlie account of the same act
or qualification, he should accept the satisfaction and
merits of the one for the other, as if these were their own
satisfaction and merits. This necessarily follows, or rather
is implied.
And thus it is that faith justifies, or gives an interest in
Christ's satisfaction and merits, and a right to the benefits
procured thereby, viz. as it thus makes Christ and the be
liever one in the acceptance of the Supreme Judge. It is
by faith that we have a title to eternal life, because it is
by faith that we have the Son of God, by whom life is.
The apostle John in these words, 1 John v. 12. " He that
hath the Son, hath life," seems evidently to have respect to
those words of Christ of which he gives an account in his
gospel, chap. iii. 36. " He that believeth on the Son, hath
everlasting life ; and he that believeth not the Son, shall
not see life." And where the Scripture speaks of faith
as the soul's receiving or coming to Christ, it also speaks
of this receiving, coming to, or joining with, Christ, as the
ground of an interest in his benefits. To as many as re
ceived him, " to them gave he power" to become the sons
of God. Ye will not come unto me " that ye might have
life." And there is a wide difference between its being
suitable that Christ's satisfaction and merits should be
theirs who believe, because an interest in that satisfaction
and merit is a fit reward of faith— or a suitable testimony
of God's respect to the amiableness and excellency of that
grace— and its being suitable that Christ's satisfaction and
merits should be theirs, because Christ and they are so
united, that in the eyes of the Judge they may be looked
upon and taken as one.
Although, on account of faith in the believer, it is in
the sight of God fit and congruous, both that he who be
lieves should be looked upon as in Christ, and also as
having an interest in his merits, in the way that has been
now explained ; yet it appears that this is very wide from a
merit of congruity, or indeed any moral congruity at all
to either* There is a twofold fitness to a state; I know
an actual interest in reconciliation and justification. In other words, the
righteousness of Christ, his perfect obedience unto death as our substitute,
is that alone on account of which we can stand before God with accept
ance, in reference to the charge of a federal failure in Adam.
7. An actual interest in this federal perfection is obtained only by a vital
or an effectual union to the Lord our righteousness. This is plain from
Scripture, and is perfectly rational. It is compared to the union of a vine
and its branches, the head and members of the human body, &c. That a
participation of nature between Christ and us, or an effectual 7011011, is
requisite for a ground of imputation is evident, not only from scriptural
comparisons, and the rational consistence of such an idea, but also from the
fact ofthe Sayiour's incarnation. Without this union to us, oursin could
not have been imputed to him ; and without a vital union, his righteousness
could not be imputed to us. This is fairly and fully implied in many parts
of Scripture, as might be shown if necessary. — From whence it is plain,
that union is the indispensable ground of imputation.
8. Whoever is the subject of a vital union to Christ, is in a, justified state,
as partaker of a federal perfection, prior to the performance of any moral
duty whatever. But in order to explain and prove this it is requisite to
attend to the following particulars.
9. Union to Christ is of two kinds, on his part by his Spirit ; and on our
part by faith, as explained in a preceding note. In the former, we are
passive ; and in the latter, we are active. In the one, he acts as a sovereign
dispenser of benefits ; in the other we act as accountable creatures.
10. By the order both of nature and of time, the union begins with him
who is a quickening Spirit; and that of faith is consequent upon the other,
and is the proper effect of it.
II. By his uniting act, which may be termed effectual calling, the enmity
of sin is destroyed in the soul, and the Spirit of Christ is imparted, which
as occasion offers, will manifest itself as the Spirit of faith, of love, &c.
Hence, 12. To the soul thus in Christ, whether infant or adult, there is no con
demnation arising from federal delinquency ; for this charge is answered
by the union on his part; and righteousness is imputed.
13. From the premises it follows, that the generally received theological
maxim is perfectly just and plain, viz. that justification and regeneration
are simultaneous. — Union is the immediate cause of both ; and because the
one is a relative and the other a vital effect, there is no interference as to
the order of time. Thus an union of a tree and a branch by ingrafture, is
attended with two simultaneous effects, the one relative and the other
vital ; it is related to the tree as a branch, and at the same time partakes
of the vital sap, The union, however, must precede both, as to nature and
time. ,
14. But where two effects are both real, as distinguished from relative, the
one must precede the other, both as to nature and time. Thus union pre
cedes vitality, and this of necessity must precede vital acts ; and regenera
tion, as the act of the Spirit of Christ, must necessarily precede believing,
which is one mode by which a vital principle operates. For to suppose

Disc I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

not how to give them distinguishing names, otherwise than
by calling the one a moral, and the other a natural, fitness.
A person has a moral fitness for a state, when his moral
excellency commends him to it, or when his being put into
such a good state is but a suitable testimony of regard to
the moral excellency, or value, or amiableness of any of his
qualifications or acts. A person has a natural fitness for a
state, when it appears meet and condecent that he should
be in such a state or circumstances, only from the natural
concord or agreeableness there is between such qualifica
tions and such circumstances ; not because the qualifica
tions are lovely or unlovely, but only because the qualifica
tions and the circumstances are like one another, or do in
their nature suit and agree or unite one to another. And it
is on this latter account only that God looks on it fit by a
natural fitness, that he whose heart sincerely unites itself
1o Christ as his Saviour, should be looked upon as united
to that Saviour, and so having an interest in nim ; and not
from any moral fitness there is between the excellency of
such a qualification as faith, and such a glorious blessed
ness as the having an interest in Christ. God's bestowing
Christ and his benefits on a soul in consequence of faith,
out of regard only to the natural concord there is between
such a qualification of a soul, and such an union with
Christ, and interest in him, makes the case very widely
different from what it would be, if he bestowed this from
regard to any moral suitableness. For, in the former case,
it is only from God's love of order that he bestows these
things on the account of faith : in the latter, God doth it
out of love to the grace of faith itself. God will neither
look on Christ's merits as ours, nor adjudge his benefits to
us, till we be in Christ: nor will he look upon us as being
that the operation produces, or is prior to the principle, either in nature or
in time, is a direct contradiction.
15. If the preceding steps of these remarks be thoroughly weighed, it will
be found, that justification, according to Scripture, and just reasoning
upon it, has for its foundation the federal perfection of Messiah, and takes
place as the immediate result of union to him.
16. But since this union is twofold, the one as the effect of the other, that is,
union by faith is the effect of union by the Spirit ofChrist, and these, caws.
and effect, cannot possibly be sumultaneous-, there must necessarily be a
twofold justification as the result of the corresponding unions. Though
in that union wbich is first in the order of nature and of time, the person,
whether infant or adult, is passive ; the result however is the imputation
of righteousness, which is Messiah's federal perfection, and which entitles
to life eternal. And by that union which is the effect of the other, and con
sequently posterior to it in the order both of nature and of time, (and of
which infants cannot be partakers,) that is, by the union effected by believ
ing, the result is the imputation of the same righteousness in circum
stances totally different
17. These two different circumstances, clearly perceived, will develope
the seeming difficulty. In the first, the person, whether infant or adult, is
the passive possessor of decreed benefits, union, righteousness, and life ; in
the second circumstance, the adult person, as a free and accountable agent,
is required to determine for himself on what to found his plea of accept
ance with God. If he found his plea on his own obedience past or intended,
whether moral, ceremonial, or both; he shows at once both ignorance and
rebellion. Ignorance, that he supposes it even possible for him, by his own
obedience, to attain to that federal perfection which is justly required by
the righteous Governor ; and also in that he does not perceive the love and
wisdom, tbe superabounding grace and wonderful mercy, of God as a sove
reign Benefactor in providing the needful remedy. Rebellion, in that he
rejects the counsel of God, and resists, by obstinate unbelief, the divine
authority requiring submission to this righteousness as the way to favour
and life. Hence,
18. As all reasonings, expostulations, threats, promises and encourage
ments; all testimonies, declarations, appeals, inducements, and sanctions,
are addressed to men as moral agents, with whom, in the business of ac
countability, it rests, what mode they will adopt for obtaining acceptance
with God — whether by doing the wprk themselves, or by believing his tes
timony and receiving his gift — it fully accounts for justification by faith
being the great point argued in the apostolic writings.
19. And it further appears, that justification by faith alone should be
strenuously urged by all gospel ministers, while they have to do continually
with persons whose inquiry is, " What shall we do to be saved ?" To such as
thus inquire after the way of salvation, who seek acceptance with God, who
are about to choose for themselves " the way they will take," what answer
can be given, in effect, but what is contained in the apostle's words ? " To
him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his
faith is counted for righteousness." The above statement not only agrees
with these words, but also, as I humbly conceive, explains their import ;
and the embarrassment respecting the office and influence of faith in justifi
cation is removed, without expunging faith, orthe act of believing, from the
class of moral duties.
20. It may be objected, If there be any justification before believing, then
an unbeliever may be justified ; whereas the Scripture saith, " He that be
lieveth not is condemned already." This objection arises from a mistaken
notion of the true meaning of such passages of Scripture. Condemnation, in
the real import of Scripture, is levelled against the rejecters of Christ, or of
the divine testimony, and these only, considered as free agents in seeking
acceptance with God and final happiness. These, not believing in Christ,
while prevailingly devoted to Moses or Mahomet, moral obedience or cere
monies, or indeed any other object whatever, reject in fact the testimony of
God and his righteousness, ana expose themselves to a double condemna
tion. They are condemned as being destitute of a perfect righteousness,
and also for their actual disobedience to the divine authority. The sentence
of the law is against them, both as a covenant and as a rule ; and the gospel
which they reject will be a witness to prove the wickedness of their heart.
But this can never take place in one who is vitally united to Christ. All
allow that infants not believing are not to be ranked with unbelievers. To
2 s 2

627
in him, without an active unition of our hearts and souls
to him ; because he is a wise being, and delights in order,
and not in confusion, and that things should be together or
asunder according to their nature ; and his making such a
constitution is a testimony of his love of order.* Whereas
if it were out of regard to any moral fitness or suitable-
ness.between faith and such blessedness, it would be a tes
timony of his love to the act or qualification itself. The
one supposes this divine constitution to be a manifestation
of God's regard to the beauty of the act of faith: the other
only supposes it to be a manifestation of his regard to the
beauty of that order that there is in uniting those things
that have a natural agreement, and congruity, and unition
of the one with the other. Indeed a moral suitableness or
fitness to a state includes a natural : for, if there be a
moral suitableness that a person should be in such a state,
there is also a natural suitableness; but such a natural
suitableness as I have described, by no means necessarily
includes a moral.
This is plainly what our divines intend when they say,
that faith aoes not justify as a work, or a righteousness, viz.
that it does not justify as a part of our moral goodness or
excellency, or that it does not justify as man was to have
been justified by the covenant of works, which was, to
have a title to eternal life given him of God, in testimony
of his pleasedness with his works, or his regard to the in
herent excellency and beauty of his obedience. And this
is certainly what the apostle Paul means, when he so much
insists upon it, that we are not justified by works, viz. that
we are not justified by them as good works, or by any
goodness, value, or excellency of our works. For the
proof of this I shall at present mention but one thing, and
them no testimony is proposed, and therefore no testimony is rejected by
them. Nor does any adult united to Christ reject the divine testimony, even
before he believes. Let but the object of faith be presented to bim, and his
vital union secures the exercise oi the living principle towards the proposed
object in proportion as the terms are understood. A testimony not pre
sented, or one presented in an vnknoion tongue, cannot be believed, not
withstanding the principle of faith. The existence of a principle does not
necessarily imply its exercise, whether it be sense, reason, or faith, Men are
not necessarily conversant with the objects of sense, because they possess
the senses requisite for these purposes ; nor are they always exercising the
powers of the mind, however essential these powers are to human nature.
In like manner, not exercising faith is a very different thing from not pos
sessing the principle. A vital union and the spirit of faith are inseparably
and essentially connected ; but a vital union and believing are connected
secundum quid, in certain circumstances. Without the circumstances of
adult age, or a capacity of understanding, believing is impracticable. But
bow absurd would it be to say, that a sinner cannofbe justified because he
has not arrived at a certain advanced portion of understanding, or has not
learned some language ; as if a title to heaven depended on age, or know
ing a language ! And equally absurd is it to suppose that Christ cannot effect
a vital union because the sinner's voluntary consent to it is wanting; as if
God's high sovereignty were bound by tbe human will ! That God re
quires the sinner's consent, as a matter of obligation, .is a solemn fact ; but
God has not laid himself under any obligation that he will never unite a
soul to Christ for justification of life but By the sinner's previous consent.
He has declared, however, that the continued unbeliever, who is properly
a wilful rejecter of Christ and his righteousness, shall be condemned
Hence it is evident, that to make believing essential to a vital union, on
the part of Christ ; and to make the exercise of faith on a divine testimony
essential to its existence, are erroneous conclusions, derogatory to gospel
grace, and founded on wrong notions of moral government
20. To make this, if possible, still more plain, the gospel finds men, as
apostatized with Adam, in a state of condemnation; infants and adults
alike are under the condemnatory sentence which is the result of a breach
of covenant. This evil can be removed, and a restoration to favour be
effected, only by an act of sovereign grace, whereby Christ becomes vi
tally united to the soul. Without this vital union there is, there can be, no
faith. This being the case, a vital union is formed before faith can have
any ground of existence ; and consequently a justification which is a neces
sary result of this union takes place. For to bim who is thus in Christ
Jesus there is no condemnation ; but he is passed from death unto life, as
an object of mere grace and mercy. In this respect, an adult and an
infant are perfectly on a par, while justified and regenerated for the king
dom of God. But God, in the character of a moral governor, has a further
claim on every free agent; he exhibits to the view, and solicits, yea de
mands, a voluntary compliance with the plan of mercy through the blessed
Redeemer, who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for
our justification. The regenerate person that is capable of acting for him
self, as the subject of commands and invitations, complies ; he becomes an
active recipient ofthe appointed righteousness, which he now pleads in
opposition to all charges presented against him. 'By faith, or believing God's
testimony, he makes his appeal, and by faith alone he is justified. An in
vestigation of the rationale of christian doctrines is not necessary for pop u- ,
lar use, but may be peculiarly useful as a guard against inconsistencies,
and a means of strengthening our attachment to those doctrines. — W.
* This order, however, is a law to us, and compliance with it necessarily
imports moral obedience ; though the object received is the obedience of
another. No one has room to expect success in his endeavours, but by com
plying with the divine requisition ; and that requisition is, that we submit
to the perfection of Messiah. And an act of submission to the righteousness
of faith may well be an act of moral excellence, though that excellence has
nothing meritorious on account of which a perfect righteousness should be
imputed. A thing may have moral goodness without moral perfection.
But in order to deny to faith the latter, it is not necessary to deprive it of the
former. If we consistently maintain, that the moral excellence of faith
constitutes no part of our justifying righteousness, it is all that the argument
requires, in order to establish the conclusion intended, — W

628

FIVE DISCOURSES.

that is, the apostle from time to time speaking of our not
being justified by works, as the thing that excludes all
boasting, Eph. ii. 9. Rom. iii. 27. and chap. iy. 2. Now
which way do works give occasion for boasting, but as
good ? What do men use to boast of, but of something
they suppose good or excellent? And on what account do
they boast of any thing, but for the supposed excellency
that is in it ?
From these things we may learn in what manner faith
is the only condition of justification and salvation. For
though it be not the only condition, so as alone truly to have
the place of a condition in an hypothetical proposition, in
which justification and salvation are the consequent, yet it
is the condition of justification in a manner peculiar to it,
and so that nothing else has a parallel influence with it ;
because faith includes the whole act of unition to Christ as
a Saviour. The entire active uniting of the soul, or the
whole of what is called coming to Christ, and receiving of
him, is called faith in Scripture ; and however other things
may be no less excellent than faith, yet it is not the nature
of any other graces or virtues directly to close with Christ
as a mediator, any further than they enter into the constitu
tion of justifying faith, and do belong to its nature.
Thus I have explained my meaning, in asserting it as a
doctrine of the gospel, that we are justified by faith only,
without any manner of goodness of our own.
I now proceed,
II. To the proof of it ; which I shall endeavour to pro
duce in the following arguments.
First, Such is our case, and the state of things, that
neither faith, nor any other qualifications, or act or course
of acts, does or can render it suitable that a person should
have an interest in the Saviour, and so a title to his bene
fits, on account of any excellency therein, or any other
way, than as something in him may unite him to the Sa
viour. It is not suitable that God should give fallen man
an interest in Christ and his merits, as a testimony of his
respect to any thing whatsoever as a loveliness in him ;
and that because it is not meet, till a sinner is actually
justified, that any thing in him should be accepted of God,
as any excellency or amiableness of his person ; or that
God, by any act, should in any manner or degree testify
any pleasedness with him, or favour towards him, on the
account of any thing inherent in him : and that for two
reasons :
1. The nature of things will not admit of it. And this
appears from the infinite guilt that the sinner till justified
is under ; which arises from the infinite evil or heinous
ness of sin. But because this is what some deny, I
would therefore first establish that point, and show that
sin is a thing that is indeed properly of infinite heinous
ness ; and then show the consequence, that it cannot be
suitable, till the sinner is actually justified, that God should
by any act testify pleasedness with or acceptance of any
excellency or amiableness of his person.
That the evil and demerit of sin is infinitely great, is
most demonstrably evident, because what the evil or ini
quity of sin consists in, is the violating of an obligation,
or doing what we should not do ; and therefore by how
much the greater the obligation is that is violated, by so
much the greater is the iniquity of the violation. But
certainly our obligation to love or honour any being is
great in proportion to the greatness or excellency of that
being, or his worthiness to be loved and honoured. We
are under greater obligations to love a more lovely being
than a less lovely ; and if a being be infinitely excellent
and lovely, our obligations to love him are therein infi
nitely great. The matter is so plain, it seems needless to
say much about it.
Some have argued exceeding strangely against the infi
nite evil of sin, from its being committed against an in
finite object, that then it may as well be argued, that there
is also an infinite value or worthiness in holiness and
love to God, because that also has an infinite object ;
whereas the argument, from, parity of reason, will carry it
in the reverse. The sin of the creature against God is ill
deserving in proportion to the distance there is between
God and the creature ; the greatness of the object, and
the meanness of the subject, aggravates it. But it is the
reverse with regard to the worthiness of the respect of the

creature to God ; it is worthless (and not worthy) in pro
portion to the meanness of the subject. So much the
greater the distance between God and the creature, so
much the less is the creature's respect worthy of God's
notice or regard. The unworthiness of sin or opposition
to God rises and is great in proportion to the dignity of
the object and inferiority of the subject ; but on the con
trary, the value of respect rises in proportion to the value
of the subject ; and that for this plain reason, viz. that the
evil of disrespect is in proportion to the obligation that
lies upon the subject to the object ; which obligation is
most evidently increased by the excellency and superiority
of the object. But on the contrary, the worthiness of
respect to a being is in proportion to the obligation that
lies < n him who is the object, (or rather the reason he has,)
to regard the subject, which certainly is in proportion to
the subject's value or excellency. Sin or disrespect is
evil or heinous in proportion to the degree of what it de
nies in the object, and as it were takes from it, viz. its
excellency and worthiness of respect ; on the contrary,
respect is valuable in proportion to the value of what is
given to the object in that respect, which undoubtedly
(other things being equal) is great in proportion to the
subject's value, or worthiness of regard ; because the sub
ject in giving his respect, can give no more than himself:
so far as he gives his respect, he gives himself to the ob
ject ; and therefore his gift is of greater or lesser value in
proportion to the value of himself.
Hence, (by the way,) the love, honour, and obedience of
Christ towards God, has infinite value, from the excellency
and dignity of the person in whom these qualifications
were inherent ; and the reason why we needed a person of
infinite dignity to obey for us, was because of our infinite
comparative meanness, who had disobeyed, whereby our
disobedience was infinitely aggravated. We needed one,
the worthiness of whose obedience might be answerable to
the unworthiness of our disobedience ; and therefore needed
one who was as great and worthy as we were unworthy.
Another objection (that perhaps may be thought hardly
worth mentioning) is, that to suppose sin -to be infinitely
heinous, is to make all sins equally heinous ; for how can
any sin be more than infinitely heinous ? But all that can
be argued hence is, that no sin can be greater with respect
to that aggravation, the worthiness of the object against
whom it is committed. One sin cannot be more aggra
vated than another in that respect, because the aggravation
of every sin is infinite ; but that does not hinder, that
some sins may be more heinous than others in other re
spects : as if we should suppose a cylinder infinitely long,
it cannot be greater in that respect, viz. with respect to
the length of it ; but yet it may be doubled and trebled,
and made a thousand-fold more, by the increase of other
dimensions. Of sins that are all infinitely heinous, some
may be more heinous than others ; as well as of divers
punishments that are all infinitely dreadful calamities, or
all of them infinitely exceeding all finite calamities, so
that there is no finite calamity, however great, but what is
infinitely less dreadful, or more eligible, than any of them,
yet some of them may be a thousand times more dreadful
than others. A punishment may be infinitely dreadful by
reason of the infinite duration of it ; and therefore cannot
be greater with respect to that aggravation of it, viz. its
length of continuance, but yet may be vastly more terrible
on other accounts.
Having thus, as I imagine, made it clear, that all sin is
infinitely heinous, and consequently that the sinner, be
fore he is justified, is under infinite guilt in God's sight ;
it now remains that I show the consequence, or how it
follows from hence, that it is not suitable that God should
give the sinner an interest in Christ's merits, and so a
title to his benefits, from regard to any qualification, or
act, or course of acts in him, on the account of any excel
lency or goodness whatsoever therein, but only as uniting
to Christ ; or (which fully implies it) that it is not suit
able that God, by any act, should, in any manner or de
gree, testify any acceptance of, or pleasedness with, any
thing, as any virtue, or excellency, or any part of loveli
ness, or valuableness in his person, until he is actually
already interested in Christ's merits. From the premises it
follows, that before the sinner is already interested in

Disc. I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

629

Christ, and justified, it is impossible God should have
any acceptance of or pleasedness with the person of the
smner, as in any degree lovely in his sight, or indeed less
the object of his displeasure and wrath. For, bv the sup
position, the sinner still remains infinitely guilty in the
sight of God; for guilt is not removed but by pardon :
but to suppose the sinner already pardoned, is to suppose
him already justified ; which is contrary to the supposi
tion. But if the sinner still remains infinitely guilty in
God's sight, that is the same thing as still to be beheld of
God as infinitely the object of his displeasure and wrath,
or infinitely hateful in his eyes ; and if so, where is any
room for any thing in him, to be accepted as some valu-
ableness or acceptableness of him in God's sight, or for
any act of favour of any kind towards him, or any gift
whatsoever to him, in testimony of God's respect to and
acceptance of something of him lovely and pleasing ? If
we should suppose that a sinner could have faith, or some
other grace in his heart, and yet remain separate from
Christ ; and that he is not looked upon as being in Christ,
or having any relation to him, it would not be meet that
such true grace should be accepted of God as any loveli
ness of his person in the sight of God. If it should be
accepted as the loveliness of the person, that would be to
accept the person as in some degree lovely to God ; but
this cannot be consistent with his still remaining under
infinite guilt, or infinite unworthiness in God's sight,
which that goodness has no worthiness to balance. While
God beholds the man as separate from Christ, he must
behold him as he is in himself; and so his goodness can
not be beheld by God, but as taken with his guilt and
hatefulness, and as put in the scales with it ; and so his
goodness is nothing; because there is a finite on the ba
lance against an infinite whose proportion to it is nothing.
In such a case, i.f the man be looked on as he is in him
self, the excess of the weight in one scale above another,
must be looked upon as the quality of the man. These
contraries being beheld together, one takes from another,
as one number is substracted from another ; and the man
must be looked upon in God's sight according to the re
mainder. For here, by the supposition, all acts of grace
or favour, in not imputing the guilt as it is, are excluded,
because that supposes a degree of pardon, and that sup
poses justification, which is contrary to what is supposed,
viz. that the sinner is not already justified ; and therefore
things must be taken strictly as they are ; and so the man
is still infinitely unworthy and hateful in God's sight, as
he was before, without diminution, because his goodness
bears no proportion to his unworthiness, and therefore
when taken together is nothing.
Hence may be more clearly seen the force of that ex
pression in the text, of believing on him that justifieth the
ungodly ; for though there is indeed something in man
that is really and spiritually good, prior to justification,
yet there is nothing that is accepted as any godliness or
excellency of the person, till after justification. Good
ness or loveliness of the person in the acceptance of God,
in any degree, is not to be considered as prior but pos
terior in the order and method of God's proceeding in
this affair. Though a respect to the natural suitableness
between such a qualification, and such a state, does go
before justification, yet the acceptance even of faith as any
goodness or loveliness of the believer, follows justification.
The goodness is on the forementioned account justly
looked upon as nothing, until the man is justified : and
therefore the man is respected in justification, as in him
self altogether hateful. — Thus the nature of things will not
admit of a man having an interest given him in the
merits or benefits of a Saviour, on the account of any thing
as a righteousness, or a virtue, or excellency in him.
2. A divine constitution antecedent to that which estab
lishes justification by a Saviour, (and indeed to any need
of a Saviour,) stands in the way of it, viz. that original
constitution or law which man was put under ; by which
constitution or law the sinner is condemned, because he is
a violator of that law ; and stands condemned, till he has
actually an interest in the Saviour, through whom he is
set at liberty from that condemnation. But to suppose
that God gives a man an interest in Christ in reward for
his righteousness or virtue, is inconsistent with his still

remaining under condemnation till he has an interest in
Christ; because he supposes, that the sinner's virtue is
accepted, and he accepted for it, before he has an interest
in Christ ; inasmuch as an interest in Christ is given as a
reward of his virtue. But the virtue must first be accepted,
before it is rewarded, and the man must first be accepted
for his virtue, before he is rewarded for it with so great
and glorious a reward ; for the very notion of a reward,
is some good bestowed in testimony of respect to and ac
ceptance of virtue in the person rewarded. It does not
consist with the honour of the majesty of the King of
heaven and earth, to accept of any thing from a condemn
ed malefactor, condemned by the justice of his own holy
law, till that condemnation be removed. And then, such
acceptance is inconsistent with, and contradictory to, such
remaining condemnation ; for the law condemns him that
violates it, to be totally rejected and cast off by God. But
how can a man continue under this condemnation, i. e.
continue utterly rejected and cast off by God, and yet his
righteousness or virtue be accepted, and he himself ac
cepted on the account of it, so as to have so glorious a reward
as an interest in Christ bestowed as a testimony of that
acceptance ?
I know that the answer will be, that we now are not
subject to that constitution which mankind were at first put
under ; but that God, in mercy to mankind, has abolished
that rigorous constitution, and put us under a new law,
and introduced a more mild constitution ; and that the
constitution or law itself not remaining, there is no need
of supposing that the condemnation of it remains, to stand
in the way of the acceptance of our virtue. And indeed
there is no other way of avoiding this difficulty. The con
demnation of the law must stand in force against a man,
till he is actually interested in the Saviour who has satis
fied and answered the law, so as effectually to prevent any
acceptance of his virtue, either before, or even in order to,
such an interest, unless the law or constitution itself be
abolished. But the scheme of those modern divines by
whom this is maintained, seems to contain a great deal of
absurdity and self-contradiction : they hold, that the old
law given to Adam, which requires perfect obedience, is
entirely repealed, and that instead of it we are put under
a new law, which requires no more than imperfect sincere
obedience, in compliance with our poor, infirm, impotent
circumstances since the fall, whereby we are unable to
perform that perfect obedience that was required by the
first law ; for they strenuously maintain, that it would be
unjust in God to require any thing of us that is beyond
our present power and ability to perform; and yet they
hold, that Christ died to satisfy for the imperfections of our
obedience, that so our imperfect obedience might be ac
cepted instead of perfect. Now, how can these things hang
together ? I would ask, What law these imperfections of
our obedience are a breach of ? If they are a breach of no
law, then they are not sins ; and if they be not sins, what
need of Christ's dying to satisfy for them ? but if they are
sins, and so the breach of some law, what law is it ? They
cannot be a breach of their new law, for that requires no
other than imperfect obedience, or obedience with imper
fections ; and they cannot be a breach of the old law, for
that they say is entirely abolished, and we never were
under it ; and we cannot break a law that we never were
under. They say it would not be just in God to exact of
us perfect obedience, because it would not be just in God
to require more of us than we can perform in our present
state, and to punish us for failing of it ; and therefore, by
their own scheme, the imperfections of our obedience do
not deserve to be punished. "What need therefore of
Christ's dying to satisfy for them ? What need of Christ's
suffering to satisfy for that which is no fault, and in it-
own nature deserves no suffering ? What need of Christ's
dying to purchase that our imperfect obedience should be
accepted, when according to their scheme it would be un
just in itself that any other obedience than imperfect should
be required ? What need of Christ's dying to make way
for God's accepting such an obedience, as it would in itself
be unjust in him not to accept? Is there any need of
Christ's dying to persuade God not to do unjustly ? If it
be said, tnat Christ died to satisfy that law for us, that so
we might not be under that law, but might be delivered

630

FIVE DISCOURSES.

from it, that so there might be room for us to be under a
more mild law; still I would inquire, What need of
Christ's dying that we might not be under a law that (ac
cording to their scheme) it would in itself be unjust that
we should be under, because in our present state we are
not able to keep it ? What need of Christ's dying that we
might not be under a law that it would be unjust that we
should be under, whether Christ died or no ?
Thus far I have argued principally from reason, and the
nature of things : — I proceed now to the
Second argument, which is, That this is a doctrine which
the Holy Scriptures, tlie revelation that God has given us
of his mind and will — by which alone we can never come
to know how those who have offended God can come to
be accepted of him, and justified in his sight — is exceeding
full. The apostle Paul is abundant in teaching, that "we
are justified by faith alone, without the works of the law ! "
There is no one doctrine that he insists so much upon, and
that he handles with so much distinctness, explaining,
giving reasons, and answering objections.
Here it is not denied by any, that the apostle does assert,
that we are justified by faith, without the works of the
law, because the words are express ; but only it is said,
that we take his words wrong, and understand that by
them that never entered into his heart, in that when he
excludes the works of the law, we understand him of the
whole law of God, or the rule which he has given to
mankind to walk by ; whereas all that he intends is the
ceremonial law.
Some that oppose this doctrine indeed say, that the
apostle sometimes means that it is by faith, i. e. a hearty
embracing the gospel in its first act only, or without any
preceding holy life, that persons are admitted into a justi
fied state ; but, say they, it is by a persevering obedience
that they are continued in a justified state, and it is by this
that they are finally justified. But this is the same thing
as to say, that a man on his first embracing the gospel is
conditionally justified and pardoned. To pardon sin, is
to free the sinner from the punishment of it, or from that
eternal misery that is due to it ; and therefore if a person is
pardoned, or freed from this misery, on his first embracing
the gospel, and yet not finally freed, but his actual freedom
still depends on some condition yet to be performed, it is
inconceivable how he can be pardoned otherwise than
conditionally ; that is, he is not properly actually pardon
ed, and freed from punishment, but only he has God's
promise that he shall be pardoned on future conditions.
God promises him, that now, if he perseveres in obedience,
he shall be finally pardoned, or actually freed from hell ;
which is to make just nothing at all of the apostle's great
doctrine of justification by faith alone. Such a conditional
pardon is no pardon or justification at all, any more than
all mankind have, whether they embrace the gospel or no;
for they all have a promise of final justification on con
ditions of future sincere obedience, as much as he that
embraces the gospel. But not to dispute about this, we
will suppose that there may be something or other at the
sinner's first embracing the gospel, that may properly be
called justification or pardon, and yet that final justifica
tion, or real freedom from the punishment of sin, is still
suspended on conditions hitherto unfulfilled ; yet they
who hold that sinners are thus justified on embracing the
gospel, suppose that they are justified by this, no other
wise than as it is a leading act of obedience, or at least as
virtue and moral goodness in them, and therefore would
be excluded by the apostle as much as any other virtue
or obedience, if it 'be allowed that he means the moral
law, when he excludes works of the law. And therefore,
if that point be yielded, that the apostle means the moral,
and not only the ceremonial, law, their whole scheme falls
to the ground.
And because the issue of the whole argument from those
texts in St. Paul's epistles depends on the determination
of this point, I would be particular in the discussion of it.
Some of our opponents in this doctrine of justification,
when they deny, that by the law the apostle means the
moral law, or the whole rule of life which God has given
to mankind, seem to choose to express themselves thus,
that the apostle only intends the Mosaic dispensation.
But this comes to just the same thing as if they said, that

the apostle only means to exclude the works of the cere
monial law ; for when they say, that it is intended only
that we are not justified by the works of the Mosaic dis
pensation, if they mean any thing by it, it must be, that
we are not justified by attending and observing what is
Mosaic in that dispensation, or by what was peculiar to
it, and wherein it differed from the christian dispensation ;
which is the same as that which is ceremonial and positive,
and not moral, in that administration. So that this is what
I have to disprove, viz. that the apostle, when he speaks
of works of the law in this affair, means only works of
the ceremonial law, or those observances that were peculiar
to the Mosaic administration.
And here it must be noted, that nobody controverts it
with them, whether the works of the ceremonial law be
not included, or whether the apostle does not particularly
argue against justification by circumcision, and other cere
monial observances ; but all in question is, whether, when
he denies justification by works of the law, he is to be
understood only of the ceremonial law, or whether the
moral law be not also implied and intended ; and therefore
those arguments which are brought to prove that the
apostle meant the ceremonial law, are nothing to the pur
pose, unless they prove that the apostle meant those only.
What is much insisted on is. that it was the judaizing
Christians being so fond of circumcision, and other cere
monies of the law, and depending so much on them, which
was the very occasion of the apostle's writing as he does
against justification by the works of the law. But sup
posing it were so, that their trusting in works of the
ceremonial law were the sole occasion of the apostle's
writing, (which yet there is no reason to allow, as may
appear afterwards,) if their trusting in a particular work,
as a work of righteousness, was all that gave occasion to
the apostle to write, how does it follow, that therefore the
apostle did not upon that occasion write against trusting
in all works of righteousness whatsoever ? Where is the
absurdity of supposing that the apostle might take occa
sion, from his observing some to trust in a certain work as
a work of righteousness, to write to them against persons
trusting in any works of righteousness at all, and that it
was a very proper occasion too ? Yea, it would have been
unavoidable for the apostle to have argued against trusting
in a particular work, in the quality of a work of righteous
ness, which quality was general, but he must therein argue
against trusting in works of righteousness in general.
Supposing it had been some other particular sort of works
that was the occasion of the apostle's writing, as for in
stance, works of charity, and the apostle should hence
take occasion to write to them not to trust in their works,
could the apostle by that be understood of no other works
besides works of charity ? Would it have been absurd to
understand him as writing against trusting in any work at
all, because it was their trusting to a particular work that
gave occasion to his writing ?
Another thing alleged, as an evidence that the apostle
means the ceremonial law — when he says, we cannot be
justified by the works of the law — is, that he uses this ar
gument to prove it, viz. that the law he speaks of was
given so long after the covenant with Abraham, in Gal.
iii. 17. "And this I say, that the covenant that was con
firmed before of God in Christ, the law which was four
hundred and thirty years after, cannot disannul." But,
say they, it was only the Mosaic administration, and not
the covenant of works, that was given so long after. But
the apostle's argument seems manifestly to be mistaken by
them. The apostle does not speak of a law that began
to exist four hundred and thirty years after ; if he did,
there would be some force in their objection ; but he has
respect to a certain solemn transaction, well known among
the Jews by the phrase "the giving of the law," which
was at mount Sinai, (Exod. xix. xx.) consisting especially
in God's giving the ten commandments (which is the
moral law) with a terrible voice, which law he afterwards
gave in tables of stone. This transaction the Jews in
the apostle's time misinterpreted ; they looked upon it as
God's establishing that law as a rule of justification.
Against this conceit of theirs the apostle brings this in
vincible argument, viz. that God would never go about to
disannul, his covenant with Abraham, which was plainly

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JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

631

a covenant of grace, by a transaction with his posterity,
that was so long after it, and was plainly built upon it.
He would not overthrow a covenant of grace that he had
long before established with Abraham, for him and his
seed, (which is often mentioned as the ground of God's
making them his people,) by now establishing a covenant
of works with them at mount Sinai, as the Jews and ju
daizing Christians supposed.
But that the apostle does not mean only works of the
ceremonial law, when he excludes works' of the law in
justification, but also of the moral law, and all works of
obedience, virtue, and righteousness whatsoever, may ap
pear by the following things.
1. The apostle does not only say, that we are not justi
fied by the works of the law, but that we are not justified
by works, using a general term ; as in our text, " to him
that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth,"
&c. ; and in the 6th verse, " God imputeth righteousness
without works ;" and chap. xi. 6. " And if by grace, then
is it no more of works, otherwise grace is no more grace :
but if it be of works, then it is no more grace ; otherwise
work is no more work." So, Eph. ii. 8, 9. " For by grace
are ye saved, through faith,  not of works ;" by
which, there is no reason in the world to understand the
apostle of any other than works in general, as correlates of
a reward, or good works, or works of virtue and righteous
ness. When the apostle says, we are justified or saved
not by works, without any such term annexed, as the law,
or any other addition, to limit the expression, what warrant
have any to confine it to works of a particular law or insti
tution, excluding others ? Are not observances of other
divine laws works, as well as of that ? it seems to be allow
ed by the divines in the Arminian scheme, in their inter
pretation of several of those texts where the apostle only
mentions works, without any addition, that he means our
own good works in general ; but then, they say, he only
means to exclude any proper merit in those works. But
to say the apostle means one thing when he says, we are
not justified by works, and another when he says, we are
not justified by the works of the law, when we find the
expressions mixed and used in the same discourse, and
when the apostle is evidently upon the same argument, is
very unreasonable ; it is to dodge, and fly from Scripture,
rather than open and yield ourselves to its teachings.
2. In the third chapter of Romans, our having been
guilty of breaches of the moral law, is an argument that
the apostle uses, why we cannot be justified by the works
of the law. Beginning with the 9th verse, he proves out
of the Old Testament, that all are under sin : " There is
none righteous, no not one : their throat is as an open
sepulchre ; with their tongues they have used deceit : their
mouth is full of cursing and bitterness ; and their feet swift
to shed blood." And so he goes on, mentioning only those
things that are breaches of the moral law ; and then when
he has done, his conclusion is, in.the 19th and 20th verses,
" Now we know that whatsoever things the law saith, it
saith to them that are under the law, that every mouth may
be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before
God. Therefore, by the deeds of the law, shall no flesh be
justified in his sight." This is most evidently his argu
ment, because all had sinned, (as it was said in the 9th
verse,) and been guilty of those breaches of the moral law
that he had mentioned, (and it is repeated over again,
verse 23.) " For all have sinned, and come short of the
glory of God ;" therefore none at all can be justified by the
deeds of the law. Now if the apostle meant only, that we
are not justified by the deeds of the ceremonial law, what
kind of arguing would that be, " Their mouth is full of
cursing and bitterness, their feet are swift to shed blood ?"
therefore they cannot be justified by the deeds of the
Mbsaic administration. They are guilty of the breaches
of the moral law ; and therefore they cannot be justified by
the deeds of the ceremonial law ! Doubtless, the apostle's
argument is, that the very same law they have broken, can
never justify them as observers of it, because every law
necessarily condemns its violators. And therefore our
breaches of the moral law argue no more, than that we
cannot be justified by that law we have broken.
And it may be noted, that the apostle's argument here is
the same that I have already used, viz. that as we are in

ourselves, and out of Christ, we are under the condemna
tion of that original law or constitution that God establish
ed with mankind ; and therefore it is no way fit that any
thing we do, any virtue or obedience of ours, should be
accepted, or we accepted on the account of it.
3. The apostle, in all the preceding part of this epistle,
wherever he has the phrase, the law, evidently intends the
moral law principally. As in the 12th verse of the fore
going chapter : " For as many as have sinned without law,
shall also perish without law." It is evidently the written
moral law the apostle means, by the next verse but one :
" For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by
nature the things contained in the law ;" that is, the moral
law that the Gentiles have by nature. And so the next
verse, " Which show the work of the law written in their
hearts." It is the moral law, and not the ceremonial, that
is written in the hearts of those who are destitute of divine
revelation. And so in the 18th verse, " Thou approvest
the things that are more excellent, being instructed out of
the law." It is the moral law that shows us the nature of
things, and teaches us what is excellent ; 20th verse,
" Thou hast a form of knowledge and truth in the law." It
is the moral law, as is evident by what follows, verse 22,
23. " Thou that sayest a man should not commit adultery,
dost thou commit adultery ? Thou that abhorrest idols, dost
thou commit sacrilege '. Thou that makest thy boast of the
law, through breaking the law, dishonourest thoii God ?"
Adultery, idolatry, and sacrilege, surely are the breaking
of the moral, and not the ceremonial law. So in the 27th
verse, " And shall not uncircumcision which is by nature,
if it fulfil the law, judge thee, who by the letter and cir
cumcision dost transgress the law ?" i. e. the Gentiles, that
you despise because uncircumcised, if they live moral and
holy lives, in obedience to the moral law, shall condemn
you though circumcised. And so there is not one place in
all the preceding part of the epistle, where the apostle
speaks of the law, but that he most apparently intends
principally the moral law ; and yet when the apostle, in
continuance of the same discourse, comes to tell us, that
we cannot be justified by the works of the law, then they
will needs have it, that he means only the ceremonial law.
Yea, though all this discourse about the moral law, show
ing how the Jews as well as Gentiles have violated it, is
evidently preparatory and introductory to that doctrine,
chap. iii. 20. " That no flesh," that is, none of mankind,
neither Jews nor Gentiles, " can be justified by the works
of the law."
4. It is evident that when the apostle says, we cannot be
justified by the works of the law, he means the moral as
well as ceremonial law, by his giving this reason for it,
that " by the law is the knowledge of sin," as Rom. iii. 20.
" By the deeds ofthe law shall no flesh be justified in his
sight ; for by the law is the knowledge of sin." Now that
law by which we come to the knowledge of sin, is the
moral law chiefly and primarily. If this argument of the
apostle be good, " that we cannot be justified by the deeds
of the law, because it is by the law that we come to the
knowledge of sin ;" then it proves that we cannot be justi
fied by the deeds of the moral law, nor by the precepts of
Christianity ; for by them is the knowledge of sin. If the
reason be good, then where the reason nolds, the truth
holds. It is a miserable shift, and a violent force put upon
the words, to say that the meaning is, that by the law of
circumcision is the knowledge of sin, because circumcision
signifying the taking away of sin, puts men in mind of sin.
The plain meaning of the apostle is, that as the law most
strictly forbids sin, it tends to convince us of sin, and bring
our own consciences to condemn us, instead of justifying
of us ; that the use of it is to declare to us our own guilt
and unworthiness, which is the reverse of justifying and
approving of us as virtuous or worthy. This is the apostle's
meaning, if we will allow him to be his own expositor ;
for he himself, in this very epistle, explains to us how it is
that by the law we have the knowledge of sin, and that it is
by the law's forbidding sin, chap. vii. 7. " I had not known
sin, but by the law ; for I had not known lust, except the
law had said, Thou shalt not covet." There the apostle de
termines two things ; first, That the way in which " by the
law is the knowledge of sin," is by the law's forbidding
sin : and secondly, which is more directly still to the pur-

632

FIVE DISCOURSES.

pose, he determines that it is the moral law by which we
come to the knowledge of sin ; " for," says he, " I had
not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not
covet." Now it is the moral, and not the ceremonial law,
that says, " Thou shalt not covet." Therefore, when the
apostle argues, that by the deeds of the law no flesh living
shall be justified, because by the law is the knowledge of
sin, his argument proves, (unless he was mistaken as to
the force of his argument,) that we cannot be justified by
the deeds of the moral law.
5. It is evident that the apostle does not mean only the
ceremonial law, because he gives this reason why we have
righteousness, and a title to the privilege of God's chil
dren, not by the law, but by faith, " that the law worketh
wrath." Rom. iv. 13 — 16. " For the promise that he
should be the heir of the world, was not to Abraham, or to
his seed through the law, but through righteousness of
faith. For if they which are of the law be heirs, faith is
made void, and the promise made of none effect. Be
cause the law worketh wrath : for where no law is, there is
no transgression. Therefore it is of faith, that it might be
by grace." Now the way in which the law works wrath,
by the apostle's own account, in the reason he himself
annexes, is by forbidding sin, and aggravating the guilt of
the transgression ; " for, says he, " where no law is, there
is no transgression :" And so, chap. vii. 13. " That sin by
the commandment might become exceeding sinful." If,
therefore, this reason of the apostle be good, it is much
stronger against justification by the moral law than the
ceremonial law ; for it is by transgressions of the moral
law chiefly that there comes wrath ; for they are most
strictly forbidden, and most terribly threatened.
6. It is evident that when the apostle says, we are not
justified by the works of the law, that he excludes all our
own virtue, goodness, or excellency, by that reason he
gives for it, viz. " That boasting might be excluded." Rom.
iii. 26, 27, 28. " To declare, I Say, at this time his right
eousness : that he might be just, and the justifier of him
which believeth in Jesus. Where is boasting then ? It is
excluded. By what law ? of works ? Nay ; but by the
law of faith. Therefore we conclude, that a man is justi
fied by faith without the deeds of the law." Eph. ii. 8, 9.
" For by grace are ye saved, through faith ; and that not
of yourselves ; it is the gift of God : not of works, lest
any man should boast." Now what are men wont to boast
of, but what they esteem their own goodness or excellency ?
If we are not justified Tjy works of the ceremonial law,
yet how does that exclude boasting, as long as we are
justified by our own excellency, or virtue and goodness of
our own, or works of righteousness which we have done ?
But it is said, that boasting is excluded, as circumcision
was excluded, which was what the Jews especially used to
glory in, and value themselves upon, above other nations.
To this I answer, that the Jews were not only used to
boast of circumcision, but were notorious for boasting of
their moral righteousness. The Jews of those days were
generally admirers and followers of the Pharisees, who
were full of their boasts of their moral righteousness ; as
we may see by the example of the Pharisee mentioned in
the 18th of Luke, which Christ mentions as describing
the general temper of that sect : " Lord," says he, " I
thank thee, that I am not as other men, an extortioner, nor
unjust, nor an adulterer." The works that he boasts of
were chiefly moral works : he depended on the works of
the law for justification ; and therefore Christ tells us, that
the publican, that renounced all his own righteousness,
" went down to his house justified rather than he." And
elsewhere, we read of the Pharisees praying in the corners
of the streets, and sounding a trumpet before them when
they did alms. But those works which they so vainly
boasted of were moral works. And not only so, but what
the apostle in this very epistle condemns the Jews for, is
their boasting of the moral law. Chap. ii. 22, 23. " Thou
that sayest a man should not commit adultery, dost thou
commit adultery? Thou that abhorrest idols, dost thou
commit sacrilege ? Thou that makest thy boast of the law,
through breaking the law, dishonourest thou God ?" The
law here mentioned that they made their boast of, was that
of which adultery, idolatry, and sacril ege, were the breaches,
which is the moral law. So that this is the boasting which

the apostle condemns them for ; and therefore, if they
were justified by the works of this law, then how comes
he to say that their boasting is excluded ? And besides,
when they boasted of the rites of the ceremonial law, it
was under a notion of its being a part of their own good
ness or excellency, or what made them holier and more
lovely in the sight of God than other people ; and if they
were not justified by this part of their own supposed good
ness or holiness, yet if they were by another, how did
that exclude boasting ? How was their boasting excluded,
unless all goodness or excellency of their own was ex
cluded ?
7. The reason given by the apostle why we can be justi
fied only by faith, and not by the works of the law, in the
3d chapter of Gal. viz. " That they that are under the law,
are under the curse," makes it evident that he does not
mean only the ceremonial law. In that chanter the apostle
had particularly insisted upon it, that Abraham was justi
fied by faith, and that it is by faith only, and not by the
works ofthe law, that we can be justified, and become the
children of Abraham, and be made partakers of the bless
ing of Abraham : and he gives this reason for it in the 10th
verse : " For as many as are of the works of the law, are
under the curse ; for it is written, Cursed is every one that
continueth not in all things which are written in the book
of the law to do them." It is manifest that these words,
cited from Deuteronomy, are spoken not only with regard
to the ceremonial law, but the whole law of God to man
kind, and chiefly the moral law ; and that all mankind are
therefore as they are in themselves under that curse, not
only while the ceremonial law lasted, but now since that
has ceased. And therefore all who are justified, are re
deemed from that curse, by Christ's bearing it for them ;
as in verse 13. " Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of
the law, being made a curse for us : for it is written,
Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." Now there
fore, either its being said, that he is cursed who continueth
not in all things which are written in the book of the law
to do them, is a good reason why we cannot be justified
by the works of that law of which it is so said ; or it is
not : if it be, then it is a good reason why we cannot be
justified by the works of the moral law, and of the whole
rule which" God has given to mankind to walk by ; for the
words are spoken of the moral as well as the ceremonial
law, and reach every command or precept which God has
given to mankind ; and chiefly the moral precepts, which
are most strictly enjoined, and the violations of which in
both the New Testament and the Old, and in the books of
Moses themselves, are threatened with the most dreadful
curse. 8. The apostle in like manner argues against our being
justified by our own righteousness, as he does against being
justified by the works of the law ; and evidently uses the
expressions, of our own righteousness, and works of the
taw, promiscuously, and as signifying the same thing. It
is particularly evident by Rom. x. 3. " For they being
ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to estab
lish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves
unto the righteousness of God." Here it is plain that the
same thing is asserted as in the two last verses but one of
the foregoing chapter. " But Israel, which followed after
the law of righteousness, hath not attained to the law of
righteousness. Wherefore ? because they sought it, not by
faith, but as it were by the works of the law." And it is
very unreasonable, upon several accounts, to suppose that
the apostle, by their own righteousness, intends only their
ceremonial righteousness. For when the apostle warns us
against trusting in our own righteousness for justification,
doubtless it is fair to interpret the expression in an agree
ment with other scriptures, where we are warned, not to
think that it is for the sake of our own righteousness that
we obtain God's favour and blessing : as particularly in
Deut. ix. 4 — 6. " Speak not thou in thine heart, after that
the Lord thy God hath cast them out from before thee,
saying, For my righteousness the Lord hath brought me in
to possess this land : but for the wickedness of these
nations the Lord doth drive them out from before thee.
Not for thy righteousness, or for the uprightness of thine
heart, dost thou go to possess their land : but for the
wickedness of these nations, the Lord thy God doth drive

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633

them out from before thee, and that he may perform the
word which he sware unto thy fathers, Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob. Understand therefore, that the Lord thy God
giveth thee not this good land to possess it, for thy right
eousness ; for thou art a stiff-necked people." None will
pretend that here the expression thy righteousness, signifies
only a ceremonial righteousness, but all virtue or goodness
of their own ; yea, and the inward goodness of the heart,
as well as the outward goodness of life ; which appears by
the beginning of the 5th verse, " Not for thy righteousness,
or for the uprightness of thy heart ;" and also by the
antithesis in the 6th verse, " Not for thy righteousness, for
thou art a stiff-necked people." Their stiff-neckedness was
their moral wickedness, obstinacy, and perverseness of
heart. By righteousness, therefore, on the contrary, is
meant their moral virtue, and rectitude of heart and life.
This is what I would argue from hence, that the expression
of our own righteousness, when used in Scripture with
relation to the favour of God — and when we are warned
against looking upon it as that by which that favour, or the
fruits of it, are obtained — does not signify only a ceremo
nial righteousness, but all manner of goodness of our own.
The Jews also, in the New Testament, are condemned
for trusting in their own righteousness in this sense ; Luke
xviii. 9, &c. " And he spake this parable unto certain that
trusted in themselves that they were righteous." This in
tends chiefly a moral righteousness ; as appears by the
parable itself, in which we have an account of the prayer
of the Pharisee, wherein the things that he mentions as
what he trusts in, are chiefly moral qualifications and per
formances, viz. That he was not an extortioner, unjust, nor
an adulterer, &c.
But we need not go to the writings of other penmen of
the Scripture. If we will allow the apostle Paul to be
his own interpreter, he — -when he speaks of our own right
eousness as that by which we are not justified or saved —
does not mean only a ceremonial righteousness, nor does
he only intend a way of religion and serving God, of our
own choosing, without divine warrant or prescription ; but
by our own righteousness he means the same as a right
eousness of our own doing, whether it be a service or
righteousness of God's prescribing, or our own unwarrant
ed performing. Let it be an obedience to the ceremonial
law, or a gospel obedience, or what it will, if it be a right
eousness of our own doing, it is excluded by the apostle in
this affair, as is evident by Titus iii. 5. " Not by works of
righteousness which we have done." — But I would more
particularly insist on this text; and therefore this may
be the
9th argument, That the apostle, when he denies justifi
cation by works, works of the law, and our own righteous
ness, does not mean works of the ceremonial law only.
Tit. iii. 3 — 7. " For we ourselves also were sometimes
foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and
pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating
one another. But after that the kindness and love of God
our Saviour toward man appeared, not by works of right
eousness which we have done, but according to his mercy
he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing
of the Holy Ghost; which he shed on us abundantly,
through Jesus Christ our Saviour : that being justified by
his grace we should be made heirs according to the hope
of eternal life." Works of righteousness that we have
done are here excluded, as what we are neither saved nor
justified by. The apostle expressly says, we are not saved
by them ; and it is evident that when he says this, he has
respect to the affair of justification. And that he means,
we are not saved by them in not being justified by them,
as by the next verse but one, which is part of the same
sentence, " That being justified by his grace, we should
be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life."
It is several ways manifest, that the apostle in this text,
by " works of righteousness which we have done," does
not mean only works of the ceremonial law. It appears
by the 3d verse, " For we ourselves also were sometimes
foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and
pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating
one another." These are breaches of the moral law, that
the apostle observes they lived in before they were justi
fied : and it is most plain that it is this which gives occa

sion to the apostle to observe, as he does in the 5th verse,
that it was not by works of righteousness which they had
done, that they were saved or justified.
But we need not go to the context, it is most apparent
from the words themselves, that the apostle does not mean
only works of the ceremonial law. If he had only said, it
is not by our own works of righteousness ; what could we
understand by works of righteousness, but only righteous
works, or, which is the same thing, good works ? And to
say, that it is by our own righteous works that we are
justified, though not by one particular kind of righteous
works, would certainly be a contradiction to such an asser
tion. But, the words are rendered yet more strong, plain,
and determined in their sense, by those additional words,
which we have done ; which shows that the apostle intends
to exclude all our own righteous or virtuous works univer
sally. If it should be asserted concerning any commodity,
treasure, or precious jewel, that it could not be procured by
money, and not only so, but, to make the assertion the
more strong, it should be asserted with additional words,
that it could not be procured by money that men possess ;
how unreasonable would it be, after all, to say, that all
that was meant was, that it could not be procured with
brass money.
And what renders the interpreting of this text, as in
tending works ofthe ceremonial law, yet more unreason
able, is, that these works were indeed no works of right
eousness at all, but were only falsely supposed to be so by
the Jews. And this our opponents in this doctrine also
suppose is the very reason why we are not justified by
them, because they are not works of righteousness, or be
cause (the ceremonial law being now abrogated) there is no
obedience in them. But how absurd is it to say, that the
apostle, when he says we are not justified by works of
righteousness that we have done, meant only works ofthe
ceremonial law, and that for that very reason, because they
are not works of righteousness '! To illustrate this by the
forementioned comparison : If it should be asserted, that
such a thing could not be procured by money that men
possess, how ridiculous would it be to say, that the mean
ing only was, that it could not be procured by counterfeit
money, and that for that reason, because it was not money.
What scripture will stand before men, if they will take
liberty to manage scripture thus ? Or what one text is
there in the Bible that may not at this rate be explained
all away, and perverted to any sense men please ?
But further, if we should allow that the apostle intends
only to oppose justification by works of the ceremonial
law in this text, yet it is evident by the expression he
uses, that he means to oppose it under that notion, or in
that quality, of their being works of righteousness of our
own doing. But if the apostle argues against our being
justified by works of the ceremonial law, under the notion
of their being of that nature and kind, viz. works of our
own doing ; then it will follow, that the apostle's argu
ment is strong against, not only those, but all of that
nature and kind, even all that are of our own doing.
If there were no other text in the Bible about justifica
tion but this, this would clearly and invincibly prove, that
we are not justified by any of our own goodness, virtue, or
righteousness, or for the excellency or righteousness of any
thing that we have done in religion ; because it is here so
fully and strongly asserted ; but this text abundantly con
firms other texts of the apostle, where he denies justifica
tion by works of the law. No doubt can be rationally
made, but that the apostle, when he shows, that God does
not save us by " works of righteousness that we have
done," verse 5. and that so we are "justified by grace,"
verse 7. herein opposing salvation by works, and salvation
by grace— means the same works as he does in other places,
where he in like manner opposes works and grace : as in
Rom. xi. 6. " And if by grace, then it is no more of works :
otherwise grace is no more grace. But if it be of works,
then is it no more grace : otherwise work is no more work."
And the same works as in Rom. iv. 4. " Now to him that
worketh, is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt."
And the same works that are spoken of in the context of
the 24th verse of the foregoing chapter, which the apostle
there calls " works of the law, being justified freely by his
grace." And ofthe 4th chapter, 16lh verse, " Therefore

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it is of faith, that it might be by grace." Where in the
context the righteousness of faith is opposed to the right
eousness of the law : for here God's saving us according to
his mercy, and justifying us by grace, is opposed to saving
us by works of righteousness that we have done ; in the
same manner as in those places, justifying us by his grace,
is opposed to justifying us by works of the law.
10. The apostle could not mean only works of the cere
monial law, when he says, we are not justified by the
works of the law, because it is asserted of the saints under
the Old Testament as well as New. If men are justified
by their sincere obedience, it will then follow that former
ly, before the ceremonial law was abrogated, men were
Justified by the works of the ceremonial law, as well as
the moral. For if we are justified by our sincere obe
dience, then it alters not the case, whether the commands
be moral or positive, provided they be God's commands,
and our obedience be obedience to God. And so the case
must be just the same under the Old Testament, with the
works of the moral law and ceremonial, according to the
measure of the virtue of obedience there was in either. It
is true, their obedience to the ceremonial law would have
nothing to do in the affair of justification, unless it was
sincere ; and so neither would the works of the moral law.
If obedience was the thing, then obedience to the cere
monial law, while that stood in force, and obedience to the
moral law, had just the same sort of concern, according to
the proportion of obedience that consists in each ; as now
under the New Testament, if obedience is what we are justi
fied by, that obedience must doubtless comprehend obedi
ence to all God's commands now in force, to the positive
precepts of attendance on baptismand the Lord's supper, as
well as moral precepts. If obedience be the thing, it is
not because it is obedience to such a kind of commands,
but because it is obedience. So that by this supposition,
the saints under the Old Testament were justified, at least
in part, by their obedience to the ceremonial law.
But it is evident that the saints under the Old Testa
ment were not justified, in any measure, by the works of
the ceremonial law. This may be proved, proceeding on
the foot of our adversaries' own interpretation of the apos
tle's phrase, " the works of the law," and supposing them
to mean by it only the works of the ceremonial law. To
instance in David, it is evident that he was not justified
in any wise by the works of the ceremonial law, by Rom.
iv. 6 — 8. " Even as David also describeth the blessedness
of the man unto whom God imputeth righteousness with
out works, saying, Blessed are they whose iniquities are
forgiven, and whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man
to whom the Lord will not impute sin." It is plain that
the apostle is here speaking of justification, from the pre
ceding verse, and all the context ; and the thing spoken of,
viz. forgiving iniquities and covering sins, is what our ad
versaries themselves suppose to be justification, and even
the whole of justification. This David, speaking of him
self, says (by the apostle's interpretation) that he had with
out works. For it is manifest that David, in the words
here cited, from the beginning of the 32d Psalm, has a
special respect to himself: he speaks of his own sins being
forgiven and not imputed to him ; as appears by the words
that immediately follow. "When I kept silence, my bones
waxed old ; through my roaring all the day long. For day
and night thy hand was heavy upon me : my moisture is
turned into the drought of summer. I acknowledged my
sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have" I not hid ; I said, I
will confess my transgressions unto the Lord ; and thou for-
gavest the iniquity of my sin." Let us therefore under
stand the apostle which way we will respecting works,
when he says, " David describes the blessedness of the
man to whom the Lord imputes righteousness without
works," whether of all manner of works, or only works of
the ceremonial law, yet it is evident at least, that David
was not justified by works of the ceremonial law. There
fore here is the argument : if our own obedience be that
by which men are justified, then under the Old Testament,
men were justified partly by obedience to the ceremonial
law (as has been proved) ; but the saints under the Old
Testament were not justified partly by the works of the
ceremonial law ; therefore men's own obedience is not that
by which they are justified.

11. Another argument that the apostle, when he speaks
ofthe two opposite ways of justification, one by the works
of the law, and the other by faith, does not mean only the
works of the ceremonial law, may be taken from Rom. x.
5, 6. " For Moses describeth the righteousness which is of
the law, that the man which doth those things, shall live
by them. But the righteousness which is of faith, speak
eth on this wise," &c— Here two things are evident.
First, That the apostle here speaks of the same two op
posite ways of justification, one by the righteousness which
is of the law, the other by faith, that he had treated of in
the former part ofthe epistle ; and therefore it must be the
same law that is here spoken of. The same law is here
meant as in the last verses of the foregoing chapter, where
he says, the Jews had " not attained to the law of right
eousness. Wherefore? Because they sought it, not by
faith, but as it were by the works of the law ;" as is plain,
because the apostle is still speaking of the same thing ;
the words are a continuation of the same discourse, as may
be seen at first glance, by any one that looks on the con
text. Secondly, It is manifest that Moses, when lie describes
the righteousness wbich is of the law, or the way of justifi
cation by the law, in the words here cited, " He that doth
those things, shall live in them," does not speak only, nor
chiefly, of the works of the ceremonial law ; for none will
pretend that God ever made such a covenant with man,
that he who kept the ceremonial law should live in it, or
that there ever was a time, that it was chiefly by the works
ofthe ceremonial law that men lived and were justified.
Yea, it is manifest by the forementioned instance of David,
mentioned in the 4th of Romans, that there never was a
time wherein men were justified in any measure by the
works of the ceremonial law, as has been just now shown.
Moses therefore, in those words which, the apostle says,
are a description of the righteousness which is of the law,
cannot mean only the ceremonial law. And therefore it
follows, that when the apostle speaks of justification by the
works of the law, as opposite to justification by faith, he
does not mean only the ceremonial law, but also the works
of the moral law, which are the things spoken of by Moses,
when he says, " He that doth those things, shall live in
them." And these are the things which the apostle in this
very place is arguing that we cannot be justified by ; as is
evident by the last verses of the preceding chapter ; " But
Israel, which followed after the law of righteousness, hath
not attained to the law of righteousness. Wherefore?
Because they sought it, not by faith, but as it were by the
works of the law," &c. And in the 3d verse of this chap
ter, " For they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and
going about to establish their own righteousness, have not
submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God."
And further, how can the apostle's description that he
here gives from Moses, of this exploded way of justification
by the works of the law, consist with the Arminian scheme,
of a way of justification by the virtue of a sincere obedi
ence, that still remains as the true and only way of justifi
cation under the gospel ? It is most apparent that it is the
design of the apostle to give a description of both the legal
rejected and the evangelical valid ways of justification, in
that wherein they are distinguished the one from the other.
But how is it, that " he who doth those things, shall live
in them," that wherein the way of justification by the
works of the law is distinguished from that in which Chris
tians under the gospel are justified, according to their
scheme ; for still, according to them, it may be said, in the
same manner, of the precepts of the gospel, he that doth
these things, shall live in them. The difference lies only
in the things to be done, but not at all in that the doing of
them is not the condition of living in them, just in the one
case, as in the other. The words, " He that doth them,
shall live in them," will serve just as well for a description
of the latter as the former. By the apostle's saying, the
righteousness of the law is described thus, lie that doth
these things, shall live in them ; but the righteousness of
faith saith thus, plainly intimates that the righteousness of
faith saith otherwise, and in an opposite manner. Besides,
if these words cited from Moses are actually said by him
of the moral law as well as ceremonial, as it is most evi
dent they are, it renders it still more absurd to suppose

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635

them mentioned by the apostle, as the very note of dis
tinction between justification by a ceremonial obedience,
and a moral sincere obedience, as the Arminians must
suppose. Thus I have spoken to a second argument, to prove that
we are not justified by any manner of virtue or goodness of
our own, .jz. that to suppose otherwise, is contrary to the
doctrine directly urged, and abundantly insisted on, by the
apostle Paul in his epistles.
I now proceed to a
Third argument, viz. That to suppose that we are jus
tified by our own sincere obedience, or any of our own
virtue or goodness, derogates from gospel grace.
That scheme of justification that manifestly takes from
or diminishes the grace of God, is undoubtedly to be re
jected ; for it is the declared design of God in the gospel to
exalt the freedom and riches of his grace, in that method of
justification of sinners, and way of admitting them to his
favour, and the blessed fruits of it, which it declares. The
Scripture teaches, that the way of justification appointed
in the gospel-covenant, is appointed for that end, that free
grace might be expressed, and glorified; Rom. iv. 16.
" Therefore it is of faith, that it might be by grace." The
exercising and magnifying of free grace in the gospel-con
trivance for the justification and salvation of sinners, is
evidently the chief design of it. And this freedom and
riches of grace in the gospel is every where spoken of in
Scripture as the chief glory of it. Therefore that doctrine
which derogates from the free grace of God in justifying
sinners, as it is most opposite to God's design, so it must
be exceedingly offensive to him.
Those who maintain, that we are justified by our own
sincere obedience, pretend that their scheme does not di
minish the grace of the gospel ; for they say, that the grace
of God is wonderfully manifested in appointing such a
way and method of salvation by sincere obedience, in as
sisting us to perform such an obedience, and in accepting
our imperfect obedience, instead of perfect.
Let us therefore examine that matter, whether their
scheme, of a man's being justified by his own virtue and
sincere obedience, does derogate from the grace of God or
no ; or whether free grace is not more exalted in supposing,
as we do, that we are justified without any manner of
goodness of our own. In order to this, I will lay down
this self-evident
Proposition, that whatsoever that be by which the abun
dant benevolence of the giver is expressed, and gratitude
in the receiver is obliged, that magnifies free grace. This
I suppose none will ever controvert or dispute. — And it is
not much less evident, that it doth both show a more
abundant benevolence in the giver when he shows kind
ness without goodness or excellency in the object, to move
him to it; and that it enhances the obligation to .gratitude
in the receiver.
1. It shows a more abundant goodness in the giver,
¦ when he shows kindness without any excellency in our
persons or actions that should move the giver to love and
beneficence. For it certainly shows the more abundant
, and overflowing goodness, or disposition to communicate
good, by how much the less loveliness or excellency there
is to entice beneficence. The less there is in the receiver
to draw good-will and kindness, it argues the more of the
principle of good-will and kindness in the giver. One that
has but little of a principle of love and benevolence, may
be drawn to do good, and to show kindness, when there
is a great deal to draw him, or when there is much excel
lency and loveliness in the object to move good-will ; when
he whose goodness and benevolence is more abundant,
will show kindness where there is less to draw it forth ;
for he does not so much need to have it drawn from with
out, he has enough of the principle within to move him
of itself. Where there is most of the principle, there it is
most sufficient for itself, and stands in least need of some
thing without to excite it. For certainly a more abundant
goodness more easily flows forth with less to impel or
draw it, than where there is less; or, which is the same
thing, the more any one is disposed of himself, the less he
needs from without himself, to put him upon it, or stir him
up to it. And therefore his kindness and goodness ap
pears the more exceeding great, when it is bestowed with

out any excellency or loveliness at all in the receiver, or
when the receiver is respected in the gift, as wholly with
out excellency. And much more still when the benevo
lence of the giver not only finds nothing in the receiver to
draw it, but a great deal of hatefulness to repel it. The
abundance of goodness is then manifested, not only in
flowing forth without any thing extrinsic to put it forward,
but in overcoming great repulsion in the object. And
then does kindness and love appear most triumphant, and
wonderfullygreat,wheu the receiver is not only wholly with
out all excellency or beauty to attract it, but altogether, yea
infinitely, vile and hateful.
2. It is apparent also that it enhances the obligation to
gratitude in the receiver. This is agreeable to the common
sense of mankind, that the less worthy or excellent the ob
ject of benevolence, or the receiver of kindness, is, the
more he is obliged, and the greater gratitude is due. He
therefore is most of all obliged, that receives kindness
without any goodness or excellency in himself, but with a
total and universal hatefulness. And as it is agreeable to
the common sense of mankind, so it is agreeable to the
word of God. How often does God in the Scripture in
sist on this argument with men, to move them to love him,
and to acknowledge his kindness 1 How much does he
insist on this as an obligation to gratitude, that they are so
sinful, and undeserving, and ill deserving !
Therefore it certainly follows, that the doctrine which
teaches, that God, when he justifies a man, and shows him
such great kindness as to give him a right to eternal life,
does not do it for any obedience, or any manner of good
ness, of his ; but that justification respects a man as un
godly, and wholly without any manner of virtue, beauty,
or excellency. I say, this doctrine does certainly more ex
alt the free grace of God in justification, and man's obli
gation to gratitude for such a favour, than the contrary
doctrine, viz. That God, in showing this kindness to
man, respects him as sincerely obedient and virtuous, and
as having something in him that is truly excellent and
lovely, and acceptable in his sight, and that this goodness
or excellency of man is the very fundamental condition
of the bestowment of that kindness on him, or of distin
guishing him from others by that benefit. But I hasten
to a
Fourth argument for the truth of the doctrine, That to
suppose a man is justified by his own virtue or obedience,
derogates from the honour of the Mediator, and ascribes
that to man's virtue which belongs only to the righteous
ness of Christ : it puts man in Christ's stead, and makes
him his own saviour, in a respect in which Christ only is
his Saviour. And so it is a doctrine contrary to the nature
and design of the gospel, which is to abase man, and to
ascribe all the glory of our salvation to Christ the Re
deemer. It is inconsistent with the doctrine of the
imputation of Christ's righteousness, which is a gospel-
doctrine. Here I would explain what we mean by the imputation
of Christ's righteousness. Prove the thing intended by it
to be true. Show that this doctrine is utterly inconsistent
with the doctrine of our being justified by our own virtue
or sincere obedience.
First, I would explain what we mean by the imputa
tion of Christ's righteousness. Sometimes the expression
is taken by our divines in a larger sense, for the imputation
of all that Christ did and suffered for our redemption,
whereby we are free from guilt, and stand righteous in the
sight of God ; and so implies the imputation both of
Christ's satisfaction and obedience. But here I intend it
in a stricter sense, for the imputation of that righteousness
or moral goodness that consists in the obedience of Christ.
And by that righteousness being imputed to us, is meant
no other than this, that the righteousness of Christ is ac
cepted for us, and admitted instead of that perfect inherent
righteousness which ought to be in ourselves., Christ's
perfect obedience shall be reckoned to our account, so that
we shall have the benefit of it, as though we had perform
ed it ourselves. . And so we suppose that a title to eternal
life is given us as the reward of this righteousness. The
Scripture uses the word impute in this sense, viz. for
reckoning any thing belonging to any person, to another
person's account: as Philemon 18. " If he hath wronged

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thee, or oweth thee ought, put that on mineaccount." In the
original it is ran Jt*°i ex\o-y_ : impute that to me. It is a
word of the same root with that which is translated im
pute, Rom. iv. 6. " To whom God imputeth righteousness
without works." And it is the very same word that is
used, Rom. v. 13. that is translated impute, " sin is not
imputed when there is no law."
The opposers of this doctrine suppose that there is an
absurdity in supposing that God imputes Christ's obedi
ence to us, it is to suppose that God is mistaken, and
thinks that we performed that obedience which Christ per
formed. But why cannot that righteousness be reckoned
to our account, and be accepted for us, without any such
absurdity ? Why is there any more absurdity in it, than
in a merchant's transferring debt or credit from one man's
account to another, when one man pays a price for another,
so that it shall be accepted as if that other had paid it ?
Why is there any more absurdity in supposing that Christ's
obedience is imputed to us, than that his satisfaction is
imputed ? If Christ has suffered the penalty of the law
in our stead, then it will follow, that his suffering that
penalty is imputed to us, that is accepted for us, and in
our stead, and is reckoned to our account, as though we
had suffered it. But why may not his obeying the law of
God be as rationally reckoned to our account, as his suf
fering the penalty of the law ? Why may not a price to
bring into debt, be as rationally transferred from one per
son's account to another, as a price to pay a debt ? Hav
ing thus explained what we mean by the imputation of
Christ's righteousness, I proceed,
Secondly, To prove that the righteousness of Christ is
thus imputed.
1 . There is the very same need of Christ's obeying the
law in our stead, in order to the reward, as of his suffering
the penalty of the law in our stead, in order to our escap
ing the penalty ; and the same reason why one should be
accepted on our account, as the other. There is the same
need of one as the other, that the law of God might be
answered : one was as requisite to answer the law as the
other. It is certain, that was the reason why there was
need that Christ should suffer the penalty for us, even that
the law might be answered ; for this the Scripture plainly
teaches. This is given as the reason why Christ was made
a curse for us, that the law threatened a curse to us, Gal.
iii. 10, 13. But the same law that fixes the curse of God
as the consequence of not continuing in all things written
in the law to do them, verse 10. has as much fixed doing
those things as an antecedent of living in them, (as verse
12.) There is as much connexion established in one case
as in the other. There is therefore exactly the same need,
from the law, of perfect obedience being fulfilled in order
to our obtaining the reward, as there is of death being
suffered in order to our escaping the punishment ; or the
same necessity by the law, of perfect obedience preceding
life, as there is of disobedience being succeeded by death.
The law is, without doubt, as much of an established rule
in one case as in the other.
Christ by suffering the penalty, and so making atone
ment for us, only removes the guilt of our sins, and so
sets us in the same state that Adam was in the first
moment of his creation : and it is no more fit that we
should obtain eternal life onlv on that account, than that
Adam should have the reward of eternal life, or of a con
firmed and unalterable state of happiness, the first moments
of his existence, without any obedience at all. Adam was
not to have the reward merely on account of his being
innocent ; if so, he would have had it fixed upon him at
once, as soon as ever he was created ; for he was as inno
cent then as he could be. But he was to have the reward
on account of his activeness in obedience ; not on account
merely of his not having done ill, but on account of his
doing well.
So on the same account we have not eternal life merely
as void of guilt, which we have by the atonement of
Christ ; but on the account of Christ's activeness in obedi
ence, and doing well. Christ is our second federal head,
and is called the second Adam, 1 Cor. xv. 22. because he
acted that part for us which the first Adam should have
done. When he had undertaken to stand in our stead, he
was looked upon and treated as though he were guilty

with our guilt ; and by his bearing the penalty, he did as
it were free himself from this guilt. But by this the
second Adam did only bring himself into the state in
which the first Adam was on the first moment of his
existence, viz. a state of mere freedom from guilt ; and
hereby indeed was free from any obligation to suffer
punishment : but this being supposed, there was need of
something further, even a positive obedience, in order to
his obtaining, as our second Adam, the reward of eternal
life. God saw meet to place man first in a state of trial, and
not to give him a title to eternal life as soon as he had
made him ; because it was his will that he should first
give honour to his authority, by fully submitting to it, in
will and act, and perfectly obeying his law. God insisted
upon it, that his holy majesty and law should have their
due acknowledgment and honour from man, such as
became the relation he stood in to that Being who created
him, before he would bestow the reward of confirmed and
everlasting happiness upon him ; and therefore God gave
him a law that he might have opportunity, by giving due
honour to his authority in obeying it, to obtain this happi
ness. It therefore became Christ — seeing that, in assum
ing man to himself, he sought a title to this eternal happi
ness for him after he had broken the law — that he himself
should become subject to God's authority, and be in the
form of a servant, that he might do that honour to God's
authority for him, by his obedience, which God at first
required of man as the condition of his having a title to
that reward. Christ came into the world to render the
honour of God's authority and law consistent with the
salvation and eternal life ot sinners ; he came to save them,
and yet withal to assert and vindicate the honour of the
lawgiver, and his holy law. Now, if the sinner, after his
sin was satisfied for, had eternal life bestowed upon him
without active righteousness, the honour of his law would
not be sufficiently vindicated. Supposing this were pos
sible, that the sinner himself could, by suffering, pay the
debt, and afterwards be in the same state that he was in
before his probation, that is to say, negatively righteous,
or merely without guilt ; if he now at last should have
eternal life bestowed upon him, without performing that
condition of obedience ; then God would recede from his
law, and would give the promised reward, and his law
never have respect and honour shown to it, in that way of
being obeyed. But now Christ, by subjecting himself to
the law, and obeying it, has done great honour to the
law, and to the authority of God who gave it. That so
glorious a person should become subject to the law, and
fulfil it, has done much more to honour it, than if mere
man had obeyed it. It was a thing infinitely honourable
to God, that a person of infinite dignity was not ashamed
to call him his God, and to adore and obey him as such.
This was more to God's honour than if any mere creature,
of any possible degree of excellence and dignity, had so
done. It is absolutely necessary, that in order to a sinner's
being justified, the righteousness of some other should be
reckoned to his account ; for it is declared, that the person
justified is looked upon as (in himself) ungodly ; but God
neither will nor can justify a person without a righteous
ness ; for justification is manifestly a forensic term, as the
word is used in Scripture, and a judicial thing, or the act
of a judge. So that if a person should be justified with
out a righteousness, the judgment would not be according
to truth. The sentence of justification would be a false
sentence, unless there be a righteousness performed that is
by the judge properly looked upon as his. To say, that
God does not justify the sinner without sincere, though an
imperfect, obedience, does not help the case ; for an imper
fect righteousness before a judge is no righteousness. To
accept of something that fells short of the rule, instead of
something else that answers the rule, is no judicial act, or
act of a judge, but a pure act of sovereignty. An imper
fect righteousness is no righteousness before a judge ; for
" righteousness (as one observes) is a relative thing, and
has always relation to a law. The formal nature of right
eousness, properly understood, lies in a conformity of
actions to that which is the rule and measure of them."
Therefore that only is righteousness in the sight of a judge

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637

that answers the law* The law is the judge's rule : if he
pardons and hides what really is, and so does not pass
sentence according to what things are in themselves, he
either does not act the part of a judge, or else judges
falsely. The very notion of judging is to determine what
is, and what is not, in any one's case. The judge's work
is twofold ; it is to determine first what is fact, and then
whether what is in fact be according to rule, or according
to the law. If a judge has no rule or law established
beforehand, by which he should proceed in judging, he
has no foundation to go upon in judging, he has no op
portunity to be a judge ; nor is it possible that he should
do the part of a judge. To judge without a law or rule
by which to judge, is impossible ; for the very notion of
judging, is to determine whether the object of judgment
De according to rule ; and therefore God has declared,
that when he acts as a judge, he will not justify the wicked,
and cannot clear the guilty ; and, by parity of reason,
cannot justify without righteousness.
And the scheme of the old law's being abrogated, and
a new law introduced, will not help at all in this diffi
culty ; for an imperfect righteousness cannot answer the
law of God we are under, whether that be an old or a
new one ; for every law requires perfect obedience to
itself. Every rule whatsoever requires perfect conformity
to itself; it is a contradiction to suppose otherwise. For
to say, that there is a law that does not require perfect
obedience to itself, is to say that there is a law that does
not require all that it requires. That law that now forbids
sin, is certainly the law that we are now under, (let that
be an old or a new one,) or else it is not sin. That
which is not forbidden, and is the breach of no law, is no
sin. But if we are now forbidden to commit sin, then it
is by a law that we are now under ; for surely we are
neither under the forbiddings nor commanding of a law
that we are not under. Therefore, if all sin is now for
bidden, then we are now under a law that requires perfect
obedience ; and therefore nothing can be accepted as a
righteousness in the sight of our Judge, but perfect right
eousness. So that our Judge cannot justify us, unless he
sees a perfect righteousness, some way belonging to us,
either performed by ourselves, or by another, and justly
and duly reckoned to our account.
God doth, in the sentence of justification, pronounce a
man perfectly righteous, or else he would need a further
justification after he is justified. His sins being removed
by Christ's atonement, is not sufficient for his justification ;
for justifying a man, as has been already shown, is not
merely pronouncing him innocent, or without guilt, but
standing right with regard to the rule that he is under, and
righteous unto life : but this, according to the established
rule of nature, reason, and divine appointment, is a posi
tive, perfect righteousness.
As there is the same need that Christ's obedience
should be reckoned to our account, as that his atonement
should ; so there is the same reason why it should. As if
Adam had persevered, and finished his course of obe
dience, we should have received the benefit of his obe
dience, as much as now we have the mischief of his
disobedience ; so in like manner, there is reason that we
should receive the benefit of the second Adam's obedience,
as of his atonement of our disobedience. Believers are
represented in Scripture as being so in Christ, as that they
* That perfect obedience, is what is called righteousness in the New
Testament, and that this righteousness, or perfect obedience, is by God's
fixed unalterable rule the condition of justification, is, from the plain evi
dence of truth, confessed by a certain great man, whom nobody will think
to be blinded by prejudice in favour of the doctrine we are maintaining,
and one who did not receive this doctrine. M. Locke, in his Reasonable
ness of Christianity, as delivered in the Scriptures, vol. 2. of his works,
p. 474. writes thus : " To one that thus unbiassed reads the Scripture, what
Adam fell from, is visible, was the state of perfect obedience, which is
called justice in the New Testament, though the word, which in the origi
nal signifies justice, be translated righteousness." Ibid. p. 476. 477. " For
righteousness, or an exact obedience to the law, seems by the Scripture to
have a claim of right to eternal life ; Bom. iv. 4. To htm that worketh,
i. e. does the works of the law, is the reward not reckoned of grace but of
ife. (.—On the other side, it seems the unalterable purpose of divine justice,
that no unrighteous person, no one that is guilty of any breach of the law,
should be in paradise ; but that the wages of sin should be to every man,
as il was to Adam, an exclusion of him out of that happy state of immor
tality, and bring death upon him. And this is so conformable to the eternal
and established law of right and wrong, that it is spoke of too as it could
not be otherwise.- -Here then we have the standing and fixed measures of
life and death ; immortality and bliss belong to the righteous. Those who
have lived in an exact conformity to the law of God are out of the reach

are legally one, or accepted as one, by the Supreme Judge :
Christ has assumed our nature, and has so assumed all in
that nature that belongs to him, into such an union with
himself, that he is become, their head, and has taken them
to be his members. And therefore, what Christ has done
in our nature, whereby he did honour to the law and au
thority of God by his acts, as well as the reparation to the
honour of the law by his sufferings, is reckoned to the be
liever's account ; so as that the believer should be made
happy, because it was so well and worthily done by his
Head, as well as freed from being miserable, because he
has suffered for our ill and unworthy doing.
When Christ had once undertaken with God to stand
for us, and put himself under our law, by that law he was
obliged to suffer, and by the same law he was obliged to
obey : by the same law, after he had taken man's guilt
upon him, he himself, being our surety, could not be ac
quitted till he had suffered, nor rewarded till he had obeyed :
but he was not acquitted as a private person, but as our
head, and believers are acquitted in his acquittance ; nor was
he accepted to a reward for his obedience,as a private person,
but as our head, and we are accepted to a reward in his ac
ceptance. The Scripture teaches us, that when Christ was
raised from the dead, he was justified ; which justifica
tion, as I have already shown, implies both his acquittance
from our guilt, and his acceptance to the exaltation and
glory that was the reward of his obedience : but believers,
as soon as they believe, are admitted to partake with
Christ in this his justification : hence we are told, that he
was " raised again for our justification," Rom. iv. 25.
which is true, not only of that part of his justification
that consists in his acquittance, but also his acceptance to
his reward. The Scripture teaches us, that he is exalted,
and gone to heaven to take possession of glory in our
name, as our forerunner, Heb. vi. 20. We are, as it were,
both raised up together with Christ, and also made to sit
together with Christ in heavenly places, and in him,
Eph. ii. 6.
If it be objected here, that there is this reason, why
what Christ suffered should be accepted on our account,
rather than the obedience he performed, that he was
obliged to obedience for himself, but was not obliged to
suffer but only on our account ; to this I answer, That
Christ was not obliged, on his own account, to undertake
to obey. Christ, in his original circumstances, was in no
subjection to the Father, being altogether equal with him :
he was under no obligation to put himself in man's stead,
and under man's law ; or to put himself into any state of
subjection to God whatsoever. There was a transaction
between the Father and the Son, that was antecedent to
Christ's becoming man, and being made under the law,
wherein he undertook to put himself under the law, and
both to obey and to suffer ; in which transaction these
things were already virtually done in the sight of God ; as
is evident by this, that God acted on the ground of that
transaction, justifying and saving sinners, as if the things
undertaken had been actually performed long before they
were performed indeed. And therefore, without doubt, in
order to estimate the value and validity of what Christ
did and suffered, we must look back to that transaction,
wherein these things were first undertaken, and virtually
done in the sight of God, and see what capacity and cir
cumstances Christ acted in them, and we shall find that
of death : but an exclusion from paradise and loss of immortality, is the
portion of sinners, of all those who have any way broke that taw, and failed
of a complete obedience to it, by the guilt of any one transgression. And
thus mankind, by the law. are put upon the issues of life or death, as they
are righteous or unrighteous, just or unjust, i. e. exact performers or trans
gressors of the law. Again, in p. 477. " The was of works then in short
is, that law which requires perfect obedience, without any remission or
abatement ; so that by that law a man cannot be just or justified, without
an exact performance of every tittle. Such a perfect obedience in tbe
New Testament, is termed Sucatotrvvn, which we translate righteousness.''
In which last passage it is also to be noted, that Mr. Locke, by the law of
works, does not understand the ceremonial iaw, hut the covenant of works ;
as he more fully expresses himself in the next paragraph but one. " Where
this law of works was to be found, tbe New Testament tells us, viz. in the
law delivered by Moses : John i. 17. The law was given by Moses, but grace
and truth came by Jesus Christ. Chap. vii. 19. Did not Moses give you the
law, says our Saviour, and yet none of you keep the law ? And this is the
law which he speaks of— verse 28. This do, ana thou shalt Hoe. This is
that which St Paul so often styles the law, without any other distinction :
Rom.ii. 13. Not t'he hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of
the law are justified. It is needless to quote any more places, his epistles
are all full of it, especially this to the Romans."

638

FIVE DISCOURSES.

Christ was under no manner of obligation, either to obey
the law, or to suffer its penalty. After this he was equally
under obligation to both ; for henceforward he stood as
our surety or representative : and therefore this consequent
obligation may be as much of an objection against the
validity of his suffering the penalty, as against his obe
dience. But if we look to that original transaction be
tween the Father and the Son, wherein both these were
undertaken and accepted as virtually done in the sight of
the Father, we shall find Christ acting with regard to both,
as one perfectly in his own right, and under no manner of
previous obligation to hinder the validity of either.
2. To suppose that all Christ does is only to make
atonement for us by suffering, is to make him our Saviour
but in part. It is to rob him of half his glory as a Sa
viour. For if so, all that he does is to deliver us from
hell ; he does not purchase heaven for us. The adverse
scheme supposes that he purchases heaven for us, in that
he satisfies for the imperfections of our obedience, and so
purchases that our sincere imperfect obedience might be
accepted as the condition of eternal life ; and so purchases
an opportunity for us to obtain heaven by our own obe
dience. But to purchase heaven for us only in this sense,
is to purchase it in no sense at all ; for all of it comes to
no more than a satisfaction for our sins, or removing the
penalty by suffering in our stead. For all the purchasing
they speak of, that our imperfect obedience should be ac
cepted, is only his satisfying for the sinful imperfection of
our obedience ; or (which is the same thing) making
atonement for the sin that our obedience is attended with.
But that is not purchasing heaven, merely to set us at
liberty again, that we may go and get heaven by what we
do ourselves : all that Christ does is only to pay a debt
for us ; there is no positive purchase of any good. We
are taught in Scripture that heaven is purchased for us ;
it is called the purchased possession, Eph. i. 14. The gos
pel proposes the eternal inheritance, not to be acquired, as
the first covenant did, but as already acquired and pur
chased. But he that pays a man's debt for him, and so
delivers him from slavery, cannot be said to purchase an
estate for him, merely because he sets him at liberty, so
that henceforward he has an opportunity to get an estate
by his own hand-labour. So that according to this scheme,
the saints in heaven have no reason to thank Christ for
purchasing heaven for them, or redeeming them to God,
and making them kings and priests, as we have an ac
count that they do, in Rev. v. 9.
3. Justification by the righteousness and obedience of
Christ, is a doctrine that the Scripture teaches in very full
terms; Rom. v. 18, 19. "By the righteousness of one,
the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life.
For as by one man's disobedience many were made sin
ners ; so, by the obedience of one, shall many be made
righteous." Here in one verse we are told, that we have
justification by Christ's righteousness ; and, that there
might be no room to understand the righteousness spoken
of, merely of Christ's atonement by his suffering the pe
nalty, in the next verse it is put in other terms, and asserted,
that it is by Christ's obedience we are made righteous. It
is scarcely possible any thing should be more full and
determined : the terms, taken singly, are such as fix their
own meaning, and taken together, they fix the meaning of
each other. The words show that we are justified by that
righteousness of Christ which consists in his obedience,
and that we are made righteous or justified by that obe
dience of his, that is, his righteousness, or moral goodness
before God.
Here possibly it may be objected, that this text means
only, that we are justified by Christ's passive obedience.
To this I answer, whether we call it active or passive, it
alters not the case as to the present argument, as long as
it is evident by the words, that it is not merely under the
notion of an atonement for disobedience, or a satisfaction
for unrighteousness, but under the notion of => positive
obedience, and a righteousness, or moral goodness, that it
justifies us, or makes us righteous ; because both the words
righteousness and obedience are used, and used too as the
opposites to sin and disobedience, and an offence. " There
fore as by the offence of one, judgment came upon all men
to condemnation ; even so, by the righteousness of one,

the free gift came upon all men to justification of life. For
as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners ;
so, by the obedience of one, shall many be made righteous."
Now, what can be meant by righteousness, when spoken
of as the opposite to sin, or moral evil, but moral good
ness ? What is the righteousness that is the opposite of
an offence, but the behaviour that is well pleasing ? and
what can be meant by obedience, when spoken of as the
opposite of disobedience, or going contrary to a command,
but a positive obeying and an actual complying with the
command ? So that there is no room for any invented
distinction of active and passive, to hurt the argument
from this scripture ; for it is evident by it, as any thing
can be, that believers are justified by the righteousness and
obedience of Christ, under the notion of his moral good
ness ; — his positive obeying, and actual complying with the
commands of God, and that behaviour which, because of
its conformity to his commands, was well-pleasing in his
sight. This is all that ever any need to desire to have
granted in this dispute.
By this it appears, that if Christ's dying be here includ
ed in the words righteousness and obedience, it is not merely
as a propitiation, or bearing a penalty of a broken law in
our stead, but as his voluntary submitting and yielding
himself to those sufferings, was an act of obedience to the
Father's commands, and so was a part of his positive
righteousness, or moral goodness.
Indeed all obedience considered under the notion of
righteousness, is something active, something done in
voluntary compliance with a command ; whether it may
be done without suffering, or whether it be hard and diffi
cult ; yet as it is obedience, righteousness, or moral good
ness, it must be considered as something voluntary and
active. If any one is commanded to go through difficul
ties and sufferings, and he, in compliance with this com
mand, voluntarily does it, he properly obeys in so doing ;
and as he voluntarily does it in compliance with a com
mand, his obedience is as active as any whatsoever. . It
is the same sort of obedience, a thing of the very same
nature, as when a man, in compliance with a command,
does a piece of hard service, or goes through hard labour ;
and there is no room to distinguish between such obedi
ence of it, as if it were a thing of quite a different nature,
by such opposite terms as active and passive : all the dis
tinction that can be pretended, is that which is between
obeying an easy command and a difficult one. But is
there from hence any foundation to make two species of
obedience, one active and the other passive ? There is no
appearance of any such distinction ever entering into the
hearts of any of the penmen, of Scripture.
It is true, that of late, when a man refuses to obey the
precept of a human law, but patiently yields himself up to
suffer the penalty of the law, it is called passive obedience :
but this I suppose is only a modern use of the word obedi
ence ; surely it is a sense of the word that the Scripture is
a perfect stranger to. It is improperly called obedience,
unless there be such a precept in the law, that he shall
yield himself patiently to suffer, to which his so doing
shall be an active voluntary conformity. There may in
some sense be said to be a conformity of the law in a per
son's suffering the penalty of the law ; but no other con
formity to the law is properly called obedience to it, but
an active voluntary conformity to the precepts of it. The
word obey is often found in Scripture with respect to the
law of God to man, but never in any other sense.
It is true that Christ's willingly undergoing those suffer
ings which he endured, is a great part of that obedience
or righteousness by which we are justified . The sufferings
of Christ are respected in Scripture under a twofold con
sideration, either merely as his being substituted for us, or
put into our stead, in suffering the penalty of the law ; and
so his sufferings are considered as a satisfaction and propitia
tion for sin ; or as he, in obedience to a law or command of
the Father, voluntarily submitted himself to those suffer
ings, and actively yielded himself up to bear them ; and
so they are considered as his righteousness, and a part of
his active obedience. Christ underwent death in obedi
ence to the command of the Father, Psalm xl. 6, 7, 8.
" Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire, mine ears
hast thou opened: burnt-offering and sin-offering hast

Disc. I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

639

thou not required. Then said I, Lo, I come: in the
volume ofthe book it is written of me: I delight to do
thy will, O my God ; yea, thy " law is within my heart."
John x. 17, 18. "I lay down my life, that I might take
it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down
of myself : I have power to lay it down, and I have power
to take it again. This commandment have I received of
my Father. ' John xviii. 11. " The cup which my Father
hath given me, shall I not drink it ?" And this is part,
and indeed the principal part, of that active obedience by
which we are justified.
It can be no just objection against this, that the com
mand of the Father to Christ that he should lay down his
life, was no part of the law that we had broken; and
therefore, that his obeying this command could be no part
of that obedience that he performed for us, because we
needed that he should obey no other law for us, but only
that which we had broken or failed of obeying. For
although it must be the same legislative authority, whose
honour is repaired by Christ's obedience, that we have in
jured by our disobedience ; yet there is no need that the
law which Christ obeys should be precisely the same that
Adam was to have obeyed, in that sense, that there should
be no positive precepts wanting, nor any added. There
was wanting the precept about the forbidden fruit, and
there was added the ceremonial law. The thing required
was perfect obedience. It is no matter whether the posi
tive precepts were the same, if they were equivalent. The
positive precepts that Christ was to obey, were much more
than equivalent to what was wanting, because infinitely
more difficult, particularly the command that he had re
ceived to lay down his life, which was his principal act of
obedience, and which, above all other, is concerned in our
justification. As that act of disobedience by which we
fell, was disobedience to a positive precept that Christ
never was under, viz. that of abstaining from the tree of
knowledge of good and evil; so that act of obedience
by which principally we are redeemed, is obedience to a
positive precept that Adam never was under, viz. the pre
cept of laying down his life. It was suitable that it should
be a positive precept, that should try both Adam's and
Christ's obedience. Such precepts are the greatest and
most proper trial of obedience ; because in them, the mere
authority and will of the legislator is the sole ground of
the obligation, (and nothing in the nature of the things
themselves,) and therefore they are the greatest trial of
any person's respect to that authority and will.
The law that Christ was subject to, and obeyed, was in
some sense the same that was given to Adam. There are
innumerable particular duties required by the law only
conditionally ; and in such circumstances, are compre
hended in some great and general rule of that law. Thus,
for instance, there are innumerable acts of respect and
obedience to men, which are required by the law of na
ture, (which was a law given to Adam,) which yet are not
required absolutely, but upon many pre-requisite condi
tions ; as, that there be men standing in such relations to
us, and that they give forth such commands, and the like.
So many acts of respect and obedience to God are in
cluded, "in like manner, in the moral law conditionally, or
such and such things being supposed; as Abraham's
going about to sacrifice his son, the Jews' circumcising
their children when eight days old, and Adam's not eating
the forbidden fruit ; they are virtually comprehended in
that great general rule of the moral law, that we should
obey God, and be subject to him in whatsoever he pleases
to command us. Certainly the moral law does as much
require us to obey God's positive commands, as it re
quires us to obey the positive commands of our parents.
And thus all that Adam, and all that Christ was com
manded, even his observing the rites and ceremonies of the
Jewish worship, and his laying down his life, was virtual
ly included in this same great law.*
It is no objection against the last-mentioned thing, even
* Thus Mr. Locke in his Reasonableness of Christianity, as delivered
in the Scriptures, vol. 2d of his Works, p. 478. " Nay, whatever God re
quires any where to be done, without making any allowance for faith, that
is a part of the law of works.1 So that forbidding Adam to eat of tbe tree
of knowledge, was part of the law of works . Only we must take notice
hero, that some of God's positive commands being for peculiar ends, and
suited to particular circumstances of times, places, and persons, have a
limited and only temporary obligation, by virtue of God's positive injunc-

Chnst's laying down his life, it being included in the
moral law given to Adam, because that law itself allowed of
no occasion for any such thing ; for the moral law virtual
ly includes all right acts, on all possible occasions, even
occasions that the law itself allows not : thus we are
obliged by the moral law to mortify our lusts, and repent
of our sins, though that law allows of no lust to mortify,
or sin to repent of.
There is indeed but one great law of God, and that is the
same law that says, " if thou sinnest, thou shalt die ;"
and " cursed is every one that continues not in all things
contained in this law to do them." All duties of positive
institution are virtually comprehended in this law : and
therefore, if the Jews broke the ceremonial law, it exposed
them to the penalty of the law, or covenant of works,
which threatened, " thou shalt surely die." The law is the
eternal and unalterable rule of righteousness between God
and man, and therefore is the rule of judgment, by which
all that a man does shall be either justified or condemned ;
and no sin exposes to damnation, but by the law. So now
he that refuses to obey the precepts that require an attend
ance on the sacraments ofthe New Testament, is ^exposed
to damnation, by virtue of the law or covenant of works.
It may moreover be argued, that all sins whatsoever are
breaches of the law or covenant of works, because all sins,
even breaches of the positive precepts, as well as others,
have atonement by the death of Christ : but what Christ
died for, was to satisfy the law, or to bear the curse of the
law; as appears by Gal. iii. 10 — 13. and Rom. vii. 3, 4.
So that Christ's laying down his life might be part of
that obedience by which we are justified, though it was a
positive precept not given to Adam. It was doubtless
Christ's main act of obedience, because it was obedience
to a command that was attended with immensely the
greatest difficulty, and so to a command that was
the greatest trial of his obedience. His respect shown
to God in it, and his honour to God's authority,
was proportionably great. It is spoken of in Scripture
as Christ's principal act of obedience. Philip, ii. 7,
8. " But made himself of no reputation, and took
upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the
likeness of men : and being found in fashion as a man, he
humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even
the death of the cross." Heb. v. 8. " Though he were a
son, yet learned he obedience by the things that he suffer
ed." It was mainly by this act of obedience that Christ
purchased so glorious a reward for himself; Philip, ii. 8,
9. " He became obedient unto death, even the death of
the cross. Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him,
and given him a name which is above every name." And
it therefore follows from what has been already said, that
it is mainly by this act of obedience that believers in
Christ also have the reward of glory, or come to partake
with Christ in his glory. We are as much saved by the death
of Christ, as his yielding himself to die was an act of
obedience, as we are, as it was a propitiation for our sins :
for as it was not the only act of obedience that merited, he
having performed meritorious acts of obedience through
the whole course of his life ; so neither was it the only
suffering that was propitiatory ; all his sufferings through
the whole course of his life being propitiatory, as well as
every act of obedience meritorious. Indeed this was his
principal suffering ; and it was as much his principal act
of obedience.
Hence we may see how that the death of Christ did
not only make atonement, but also merited eternal life ;
and hence we may see how by the blood of Christ we are
not only redeemed from sin, but redeemed unto God ; and
therefore the Scripture seems every where to attribute the
whole of salvation to the blood of Christ. This precious
blood is as much the main price by which heaven is pur
chased, as it is the main price by which we are redeemed
from hell. The positive righteousness of Christ, or that
price by which he merited, was of equal value with that
Hon : such was that part of Moses's law which concerned the outward
worship or political constitution of the Jews, and is called the ceremonial
and judaical law." Again, p. 479. " Thus then, as to the law in short, the
civil and ritual part of the law delivered by Moses obliges not Christians,
though to the Jews it were a part of the law of works -, it being a part of the
law of nature, that men ought lo obey every positive law of God, whenever
he shall please to make any such addition to the law of his nature."

64Q

FIVE DISCOURSES.

by which he satisfied ; for indeed it was the same price.
He spilled his blood to satisfy, and by reason of tlie in
finite dignity of his person, his sufferings were looked
upon as of infinite value, and equivalent to the eternal
sufferings of a finite creature. And he spilled his blood
out of respect to the honour of God's majesty, and in
submission to his authority, who had commanded him so
to do : and his obedience therein was of infinite value ;
both because of the dignity of the person that performed
it, and because he put himself to infinite expense to per
form it, whereby the infinite degree of his regard to God's
authority appeared.
One would wonder what Arminians mean by Christ's
merits. They talk of Christ's merits as much as any body,
and yet deny the imputation of Christ's positive righteous
ness. What should there bo that any one should merit or
deserve any thing by, besides righteousness or goodness ?
If any thing that Christ did or suffered, merited or de
served, any thing, it was by virtue of the goodness, or
righteousness, or holiness of it. If Christ's sufferings and
death merited heaven, it must be because there was an ex
cellent righteousness and transcendent moral goodness in
that act of laying down his life. And if by that excellent
righteousness he merited heaven for us ; then surely that
righteousness is reckoned to our account, that we have the
benefit of it, or, which is the same thing, it is imputed
to us.
Thus, I hope, I have made it evident, that the righteous
ness of Christ is indeed imputed to us. I proceed now
to theThird and last thing under this argument, That this doc
trine, of the imputation of Christ's righteousness, is utter
ly inconsistent with the doctrine of our being justified by
our own virtue or sincere obedience. If acceptance to
God's favour, and a title to life, be given to believers as
the reward of Christ's obedience, then it is not given as
the reward of our own obedience. In what respect soever
Christ is our Saviour, that doubtless excludes our being
our own saviours in that same respect. If we can be
our own saviours in the same respect that Christ is, it will
thence follow, that the salvation of Christ is needless in
that respect ; according to the apostle's reasoning, Gal. v.
4. " Christ is rendered of no effect unto you, whosoever
of you are justified by the law." Doubtless, it is Christ's
prerogative to be our Saviour in that sense wherein he is
our Saviour. And therefore, if it be by his obedience
that we are justified, then it is not by our own obedience.
Here perhaps it may be said, that a title to salvation is
not directly given as the reward of our obedience ; for that
is not by any thing of ours, but only by Christ's satisfkc-
tion and righteousness ; but yet an interest in that satisfac
tion and righteousness is given as a reward of our obedience.
But this does not at all help the case ; for this is to
ascribe as much to our obedience as if we ascribed salva
tion to it directly, without the intervention of Christ's
righteousness. For it would be as great a thing for God
to give us Christ, and his satisfaction and righteousness, in
reward for our obedience, as to give us heaven immediate
ly ; it would be as great a reward, and as great a testimony
of respect to our obedience. And if God gives as great a
thing as salvation for our obedience, why could he not
as well give salvation itself directly? and then there
would have been no need of Christ's righteousness. And
indeed if God gives us Christ, or an interest in him, pro
perly in reward of our obedience, he does really give us
salvation in reward for our obedience : for the former im
plies the latter ; yea, it implies it, as the greater implies
the less. So that indeed it exalts our virtue and obedience
more, to suppose that God gives us Christ in reward of
that virtue and obedience, than if he should give salvation
without Christ.
The thing that the Scripture guards and militates against,
is our imagining that it is our own goodness, virtue, or ex
cellency, that instates us in God's acceptance and favour.
But to suppose that God gives us an interest in Christ in
reward for our virtue, is as great an argument that it in
states us in God's favour, as if he bestowed a title to eter
nal life as its direct reward. If God gives us an interest
in Christ as a reward of our obedience, it will then follow,
that we are instated in God's acceptance and favour by

our own obedience, antecedent to our having an interest in
Christ. For a rewarding any one's excellency, evermore
supposes favour and acceptance on the account of that ex
cellency : it is the very notion of a reward, that it is a
good thing, bestowed in testimony of respect and favour
for the virtue or excellency rewarded. So that it is not by
virtue of our interest in Christ and his merits, that we first
come into favour with God, according to this scheme ; for
we are in God's favour before we have any interest in
those merits ; in that we have an interest in those merits
given as a fruit of God's favour for our own virtue. If
our interest in Christ be the fruit of God's favour, then
it cannot be the ground of it. If God did not accept us,
and had no favour for us for Qur own excellency, he never
would bestow so great a reward upon us, as a right in Christ's
satisfaction and righteousness. So that such a scheme de
stroys itself; for it supposes that Christ's satisfaction and
righteousness are necessary for us to recommend us to the
favour of God ; and yet supposes that we have God's fa
vour and acceptance before we have Christ's satisfaction
and righteousness, and have these given as a fruit of God's
favour. Indeed, neither salvation itself, nor Christ the Saviour,
are given as a reward of any thing in man : they are not
given as a reward of faith, nor any thing else of ours :
we are not united to Christ as a reward of our faith, but
have union with him by faith, only as faith is the very act
of uniting or closing on our part. As when a man offers
himself to a woman in marriage, he does not give himself
to her as a reward of her receiving him in marriage. Her
receiving him is not considered as a worthy deed in her
for which he rewards her by giving himself to her ; but it
is by her receiving him that the union is made, by which
she hath him for her husband. It is on her part the
unition itself. By these things it appears how contrary to
the gospels Christ their scheme is, who say that faith
justifies as a principle of obedience, or as a leading act of
obedience ; or (as others) the sum and comprehension of
all evangelical obedience. For by this, the obedience or
virtue that is in faith gives it its justifying influence ; and
that is the same thing as to say, that we are justified by
our own obedience, virtue, or goodness.
Having thus considered the evidence of the truth of the
doctrine, I proceed now to the
III. Thing proposed, viz. " To show in what sense the
acts of a christian life, or of evangelical obedience, may be
looked upon to be concerned in this affair."
From what has been said already, it is manifest that
they cannot have any concern in this affair as good works,
or by virtue of any moral goodness in them ; not as works
of the law, or as that moral excellency, or any part of it,
which is the fulfilment of that great, universal, and ever
lasting law or covenant of works which the great lawgiver
has establish d, as the highest and unalterable rule of
judgment, which Christ alone answers, or does any thing
towards it.
It having been shown out of the Scripture, that it is only
by faith, or the soul's receiving and uniting to the Saviour
who has wrought our righteousness, that we are justified ;
it therefore remains, that the acts of a christian life cannot
be concerned in this affair any otherwise than as they
imply, and are the expressions of, faith, and may be looked
upon as so many acts of reception of Christ the Saviour.
But the determining what concerns acts of christian obe
dience can have in justification in this respect, will depend
on the resolving of another point, viz. Whether any other
act of faith besides the first act, has any concern "in our
justification, or how far perseverance in faith, or the con
tinued and renewed acts of faith, have influence in this
affair. And it seems manifest that justification is by the
first act of faith, in some respects, m a peculiar manner.
because a sinner is actually and finally justified as soon as
he has performed one act of faith ; and faith in its first act
does, virtually at least, depend on God for perseverance,
and entitles to this among other benefits. But yet the per
severance of faith is not excluded in this affair; it is not
only certainly connected with justification, but it is not to
be excluded from that on which the justification of a sinner
has a dependence, or that by which he is justified.
I have shown that the way in which justification has a

Disc. 1.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

641

dependence on faith, is, that it is the qualification on which
the congruity of an interest in the righteousness of Christ
depends, or wherein such a fitness consists. But the con
sideration of the perseverance of faith cannot be excluded
out of this congruity or fitness, for it is congruous that he
that believes in Christ should have an interest in Christ's
righteousness, and so in the eternal benefits purchased by
it, because faith is that by which the soul hath union or
oneness with Christ ; and there is a natural congruity .n it,
that they who are one with Christ should have a joint
interest with him in his eternal benefits ; but yet this con- ^
gruity depends on its being an abiding union. As it is
needful that the branch should abide in the vine, in order
to its receiving tlie lasting benefits of the root ; so it is
necessary that the soul should abide in Christ, in order to
its receiving those lasting benefits of God's final accept
ance and favour. John xv. 6, 7. " If a man abide not in
me, he is cast forth as a branch. If ye abide in me, and
my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it
shall be done unto you." Ver. 9, 10. " Continue ye in
my love. If ye keep (or abide in) my commandments, ye
shall abide in my love : even as I have kept my Father's
commandments, and abide in his love." There is the
same reason why it is necessary that the union with Christ
should remain, as why it should be begun ; why it should
continue to be, as why it should once be. If it should
be begun without remaining, the beginning would be in
vain. In order to the soul's being now in a justified state,
and now free from condemnation, it is necessary that it
should now be in Christ, and not merely that it should
once have been in him. Rom. viii. 1. " There is no con
demnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." The soul
is saved in Christ, as being now in him, when the salvation
is bestowed, and not merely as remembering that it once
was in him. Philip, iii. 9. " That I may be found in him,
not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law,
but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteous
ness which is of God by faith." 1 John ii. 28. " And
now, little children, abide in him ; that when he shall ap
pear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed before
nim at his coming." In order to persons being blessed
after death, it is necessary not only that they should once
be in him, but that they should die in him. Rev. xiv. 13.
" Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord." — And there
is the same reason why faith, the uniting qualification,
should remain, in order to the union's remaining ; as why
it should once be, in order to the union's once being.
So that although the sinner is actually and finally justi
fied on the first acts of faith, yet the perseverance of faith,
even then, comes into consideration, as one thing on which
the fitness of acceptance to life depends. God, in the act
of justification, which is passed on a sinner's first believing,
has respect to perseverance, as being virtually contained in
that first act of faith ; and it is looked upon, and taken by
him that justifies, as being as it were a property in that
faith. God has respect to the believer's continuance in
faith, and he. is justified by that, as though it already
were, because by divine establishment it shall follow ; and
it being by divine constitution connected with that first
faith, as much as if it were a property in it, it is then con
sidered as such, and so justification is not suspended ;
but were it not for this, it would be needful that it should
be suspended, till the sinner had actually persevered in
faith. And that it is so, that God in the act of final justifica
tion which he passes at the sinner's conversion, has respect
to perseverance in faith, and future acts of faith, as being
virtually implied in the first act, is further manifest by
this, viz. That in a sinner's justification, at his conversion
there is virtually contained a forgiveness as to eternal and
deserved punishment, not only of all past sins, but also of
all future infirmities and acts of sin that they shall be
guilty of; because that first justification is decisive and
final. And yet pardon, in the order of nature, properly
follows the crime, and also follows those acts of repentance
and faith that respect the crime pardoned, as is manifest
both from reason and Scripture. David, in the beginning
of Psalm xxxii. speaks of the forgiveness of sins which
were doubtless committed long after he was first godly, as
being consequent on those sins, and on his repentance and
vol. i. 2 T

faith with respect to them; and yet this forgiveness is
spoken of by the apostle in the 4th of Romans, as an in
stance of justification by faith. Probably the sin David
there speaks of is the same that he committed in the matter
of Uriah, and so the pardon the same with that release
from death, or eternal punishment, which the prophet
Nathan speaks of, 2 Sam. xii. 13. "The Lord also hath
put away thy sin ; thou shalt not die." Not only does the
manifestation of this pardon follow the sin in the order of
time, but the pardon itself, in the order of nature, follows
David's repentance and faith with respect to this sin ; for
it is spoken of in the 32d Psalm, as depending on it.
But inasmuch as a sinner, in his first justification, is for
ever justified and freed from all obligation to eternal
punishment; it hence of necessity follows, that future
faith and repentance are beheld, in that justification, as
virtually contained in that first faith and repentance ; be
cause repentance of those future sins, and faith in a Re
deemer, with respect to them, or, at least, the continuance
of that habit and principle in the heart that has such an
actual repentance and faith in its nature and tendency, is
now made sure by God's promise. — If remission of sins,
committed after conversion, in the order of nature, follows
that faith and repentance that is after them, then it follows
that future sins are respected in the first justification, no
otherwise than as future faith and repentance are respected
in it. And future repentance and faith are looked upon
by him that justifies, as virtually implied in the first re
pentance and faith, in the same manner as justification
from future sins is virtually implied in the first justifica
tion ; which is the thing that was to be proved.
And besides, if no other act of faith could be concerned
in justification but the first act,, it will then follow, that
Christians ought never to seek justification by any other
act of faith. For if justification is not to be obtained by
after acts of faith, then surely it is not a duty to seek it by
such acts : and so it can never be a duty for persons after
they are once converted, by faith to seek to God, or be-
lievmgly to look to him, for the remission of sin, or deliver
ance from the guilt of it, because deliverance from the
guilt of sin is part of what belongs to justification. And
if it be not proper for converts by faith to look to God
through Christ for it, then it will follow, that it is not
proper for them to pray for it ; for christian prayer to God
for a blessing, is but an expression of faith in God for that
blessing ; prayer is only the voice of faith. But if these
things 'are so,"it will follow that the petition in the Lord's
prayer,,/brg«._ us our debts, is not proper to be put up by
disciples of Christ, or to be used in christian assemblies ;
and that Christ improperly directed his disciples to use
that petition, when they were all of them, except Judas,
converted before. The debt that Christ directs his disciples
to pray for the forgiveness of, can mean nothing else but
the punishment that sin deserves, or the debt that we owe
to divine justice, the ten thousand talents we owe our
Lord. To pray that God would forgive our debts, is un
doubtedly the same thing as to pray that God would re
lease us from obligation to due punishment; but releasing
from obligation to the punishment due to sin, and forgiv
ing the debt that we owe to divine justice, is what apper
tains to justification.
, And then to suppose that no after acts of faith are con
cerned in the business of justification, and so that it is not
proper for any ever to seek justification by such acts, would
be for ever to cut off those Christians that are doubtful
concerning their first act of faith, from the joy and peace
of believing. As the business of a justifying faith is to
obtain pardon and peace with God, by looking to God,
and trusting in him for these blessings; so the joy and
peace of that faith is in the apprehension of pardon and
peace obtained by such a trust. This a Christian that is
doubtful of his first act of faith cannot have from that act,
because, by the supposition, he is doubtful whether it be
an act of faith, and so whether he did obtain pardon and
peace by that act. The proper remedy, in such a case, is
now by faith to look to God in Christ for these blessings :
but he is cut off from this remedy, because he is uncertain
whether he has warrant so to do ; for he does not know
but that he has believed already ; and if so, then he has no
warrant to look to God by faith for these blessings now,

642

FIVE DISCOURSES.

because, by the supposition, no new act of faith is a proper
means of obtaining these blessings. And so he can never
Eroperly obtain the joy of faith ; for there are acts of true
lith that are very weak, and the first act may be so as well
as others : it may be like the first motion of the infant in
the womb ; it may be so weak an act, that the Cliristian,
by examining it, may never be able to determine whether
it was a true act of faith or no ; and it is evident from fact,
and abundant experience, that many Christians are for
ever at a loss to determine which was their first act of faith.
And those saints who have had a good degree of satisfac
tion concerning their faith, may be subject to great declen
sions and falls, in which case they are liable to great fears
of eternal punishment ; and the proper way of deliverance,
is to forsal e their sin by repentance, and by faith now to
come to Christ for deliverance from the deserved eternal
punishment; but this it would not be, if deliverance from
that punishment was not this way to be obtained.
But what is a still more plain and direct evidence of
what I am now arguing for, is, that the act of faith which
Abraham exercised in the great promise ofthe covenant of
grace that God made to him, of which it is expressly said,
Gal. iii. 6. "It was accounted to him for righteousness " —
the grand instance and proof that the apostle so much in
sists upon throughout the 4th chapter of Romans, and 3d
chapter of Galatians, to confirm his doctrine of justifica
tion by faith alone — was not Abraham's first act of faith,
but was exerted long after he had by faith forsaken his
own country, Heb. xi. 8. and had been treated as an
eminent friend of God.
Moreover, the apostle Paul, in the 3d chapter of Philip.
tells us how earnestly he sought justification by faith, or to
win Christ and obtain that righteousness which was by the
faith of him, in what he did after his conversion. Verse 8,
9. " For whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and
do count them but dung that I may win Christ, and be
found in him, not having mine own righteousness which is
of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ,
the righteousness which is of God by faith." And in the
two next verses he expresses the same thing in other words,
and tells us how he went through sufferings, and became
conformable to Christ's death, that he might be a partaker
with Christ in the benefit of his resurrection ; which the
same apostle elsewhere teaches us, is especially justifica
tion. Christ's resurrection was his justification; in this,
he that was put to death in the flesh, was justified by the
Spirit ; and he that was delivered for our offences, rose
again for our justification. And the apostle tells us in the
verses that follow in that 3d chapter of Philippians, that
he thus sought to attain the righteousness which is through
the faith of Christ, and so to partake of the benefit of his
resurrection, still as though he had not already attained,
but that he continued to follow after it.
On the whole, it appears, that the perseverance of faith
is necessary, even to the congruity of justification ; and that
not the less, because a sinner is justified, and perseverance
promised, on the first act of faith, but God, in that justifi
cation, has respect, not only to the past act of faith, but to
his own promise of future acts, and to the fitness of a qua
lification beheld as yet only in his own promise. And that
perseverance in faith is thus necessary to salvation, not
merely as a sine qua non, or as an universal concomitant of
it, but by reason of such an influence and dependence,
seems manifest by many scriptures : I would mention two
or three; Heb. iii. 6. " Whose house are we, if we hold
fast the confidence, and the rejoicing of the hope firm unto
the end." Verse 14. " For we are made partakers of Christ,
if we hold the beginning of our confidence stedfast unto
the end." Chap. vi. 12. " Be ye followers of them, who
through faith and patience inherit the promises." Rom.
xi. 20. " Well, because of unbelief they were broken off;
but thou standest by faith. Be not high minded, but fear."
And, as the congruity to a final justification depends on
perseverance in faith, as well as the first act, so oftentimes
the manifestation of justification in the conscience, arises a
great deal more from after acts, than the first act. And all
the difference whereby the first act of faith has a concern
in this affair that is peculiar, seems to be, as it were, only
an accidental difference, arising from the circumstance of
time, or its being first in order of time ; and not from any

peculiar respect that God has to it, or any influence it has
of a peculiar nature, in the affair of our salvation.
And thus it is that a truly christian walk, and the acts
ef an evangelical, child-like, believing obedience, are con
cerned in the affair of our justification, and seem to be
sometimes so spoken of in Scripture, viz. as an expression
of a persevering faith in the Son of God, the only Saviour.
Faith unites to Christ, and so gives a congruity to justifica
tion, not merely as remaining a dormant principle in the
heart, but as being and appearing in its active expressions.
The obedience of a Christian, so far as it is truly evange
lical, and performed with the Spirit of the Son sent forth
into the heart, has all relation to Christ, the Mediator, and
is but an expression of the soul's believing unition to
Christ. All evangelical works are works of that faith that
worketh by love ; and every such act of obedience, wherein
it is inward, and the act of the soul, is only a new effective
act of reception of Christ, and adherence to the glorious
Saviour. Hence that of the apostle, Gal. ii. 20. " I live;
yet not I, but Christ liveth in me ; and the life that I now
live in the flesh, is by the faith of the Son of God." And hence
we are directed, in whatever we do, whether in word or deed,
to do all in the name ofthe Lord Jesus Christ, Col. iii. 17.
And that God in justification has respect, not only to the
first act of faith, but also to future persevering acts, as ex
pressed in life, seems manifest by Rom. i. 17. " For there
in is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith :
as it is written, The just shall live- by faith." And Heb. x.
38, 39. " Now the just shall live by faith ; but if any man
draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him. But
we are not of them who draw back unto perdition ; but of
them that believe, to the saving of the soul."
So that as was before said of faith, so may it be said of
a child-like believing obedience, it has no concern in justi
fication by any virtue or excellency in it ; but only as there
is a reception of Christ in it. And this is no more con
trary to the apostle's frequent assertion of our being justi
fied without the works of the law, than to say that we are
justified by faith ; for faith is as much a work, or act of
christian obedience, as the expressions of faith, in spiritual
life and walk. And therefore, as we say that faith does
not justify as a work, so we say of all these effective ex
pressions of faith.
This is the reverse of the scheme of our modern
divines, who hold, that faith justifies only as an act or ex
pression of obedience ; whereas, in truth, obedience has no
concern in justification, any otherwise than as an expres
sion of faith.
I now proceed to the
IV. Thing proposed, viz. To answer objections.
Object. 1. We frequently find promises of eternal life
and salvation, and sometimes of justification itself, made to
our own virtue and obedience. Eternal life is promised to
obedience, in Rom. ii. 7. " To them, who by patient con
tinuance in well doing, seek for glory, honour, and immor
tality ; eternal life :" and the like in innumerable other
places. And justification itself is promised to that virtue
of a forgiving spirit or temper in us, Matt. vi. 14. " For, if
ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will
also forgive you : but if ye forgive not men their trespasses,
neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." All allow
that justification in great part consists in the forgiveness of sins.
To this I answer,
1. These things being promised to our virtue and obedi
ence, argues no more, than that there is a connexion be
tween them and evangelical obedience; which, I have
already observed, is not the thing in dispute. All that can
be proved by obedience and salvation being connected in
the promise, is, that obedience and salvation are connected
in fact ; which nobody denies ; and whether it be owned or
denied, is, as has been shown, nothing to the purpose.
There is no need that an admission to a title to salvation,
should be given on the account of our obedience, in order
to the promises being true. If we find such a promise,
that he that obeys shall be saved, or he that is holy shall
be justified ; all that is needful, in order to such promises
being true, is, that it be really so, that he that obeys shall
be saved, and that holiness and justification shall indeed
go together. That proposition may be a truth, that he that
obeys shall be saved ; because obedience and salvation are

Disc. I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

643

connected together in fact ; and yet an acceptance to a title
to salvation not be granted upon the account of any of our
own virtue or obedience. What is a promise, but only a
declaration of future truth, for the comfort and encourage
ment of the person to whom it is declared ? Promises
are conditional propositions ; and, as has been already ob
served, it is not the thing in dispute, whether other things
besides faith may not have the place of the condition in
such propositions wherein pardon and salvation are the con
sequent. 2. Promises may rationally be made to signs and evi
dences of faith, and yet the thing promised not be upon
the account of the sign, but the thing signified. Thus, for
instance, human government may rationally make pro
mises of such and such privileges to those that can show
such evidences of their being free of such a city, or mem
bers of such a corporation, or descended of such a family ;
when it is not at all for the sake of that which is the evi
dence or sign, in itself considered, that they are admitted
to such a privilege, but only and purely for the sake of
that which it is an evidence of. And though God does not
stand in need of signs to know whether we have true faith
or not, yet our own consciences do ; so that it is much for
our comfort that promises are made to signs of faith.
Finding in ourselves a forgiving temper and disposition,
may be a most proper and natural evidence to our con
sciences, that our hearts have, in a sense of our own utter
unworthiness, truly closed and fallen in with the way of
free and infinitely gracious forgiveness of our sins by
Jesus Christ ; whence we may be enabled, with the greater
comfort, to apply to ourselves the promises of forgiveness
by Christ.
3. It has been just now shown, how that acts of evan
gelical obedience are indeed concerned in our justification
itself, and are not excluded from that condition that justi
fication depends upon, without the least prejudice to that
doctrine of justification by faith, without any goodness of
our own, that has been maintained ; and therefore it can
be no objection against this doctrine, that we have some
times in Scripture promises of pardon and acceptance
made to such acts of obedience.
4. Promises of particular benefits implied in justifica
tion and salvation, may especially be fitly made to such
expressions and evidences of faith as they have a peculiar
natural likeness and suitableness to. As forgiveness is
promised to a forgiving spirit in us ; obtaining mercy is
fitly promised to mercifulness in us, and the like : and
that upon several accounts, they are the most natural
evidences of our heart's closing with those benefits by
faith ; for they do especially show the sweet accord and
consent that there is between the heart and these benefits ;
and by reason of the natural likeness that there is between
the virtue and the benefit, the one has the greater tendency
to bring the other to mind ; the practice of the virtue tends
the more to renew the sense, and refresh the hope, of the
blessing promised ; and also to convince the conscience of
the justice of being denied the benefit, if the duty be
neglected. Besides the sense and manifestation of divine
forgiveness in our own consciences — yea, and many exer
cises of God's forgiving mercy, (as it respects God's
fatherly displeasure,) granted after justification, through
the course of a Christian's life — may be given as the proper
rewards of a forgiving spirit, and yet this not be at all to
the prejudice of the doctrine we have maintained ; as will
more fully appear, when we come to answer another ob
jection hereafter to be mentioned .
Object. 2. Our own obedience, and inherent holiness, is
necessary to prepare men for heaven; and therefore is
doubtless what recommends persons to God's acceptance,
as the heirs of heaven.
To this I answer,
1. Our own obedience being necessary in order to a
preparation for an actual bestowment of giory, is no argu
ment that it is the thing upon the account of which we
are accepted to a right to it. God may, and does do many
things to prepare the saints for glory, after ho has accepted
them as the heirs of glory. A parent may do much to
prepare a child for an inheritance in its education, after
the child is an heir ; yea, there are many things necessary
to fit a child for the actual possession of the inheritance,
2 t 2

yet not necessary in order to its having a right to the
inheritance. 2. If every thing that is necessary to prepare men for
glory must be the proper condition of justification, then
perfect holiness is the condition of justification. Men
must be made perfectly holy, before they are admitted to
the enjoyment of the blessedness of heaven; for there
must in no wise enter in there any spiritual defilement.
And therefore, when a saint dies, he leaves all his sin and
corruption when he leaves the body.
Object. 3. Our obedience is not only indissolubly con
nected with salvation, and preparatory to it, but the Scrip
ture expressly speaks of bestowing eternal blessings as
rewards for the good deeds of the saints. Matt. x. 42.
" Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little
ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple,
he shall in no wise lose his reward." 1 Cor. iii. 8. " Every
man shall receive his own reward, according to his own
labour." And in many other places. This seems to
militate against the doctrine that has been maintained,
two ways : (1.) The bestowing a reward, carries in it a
respect to a moral fitness in the thing rewarded to the
reward ; the very notion of a reward being a benefit be
stowed in testimony of acceptance of, and respect to, the
goodness or amiableness of some qualification or work in
the person rewarded. Besides, the Scripture seems to
explain itself in this matter, in Rev. iii. 4. " Thou hast a
few names, even in Sardis, which have not defiled their
garments ; and they shall walk with me in white ; for they
are worthy." This is here given as the reason why they
should have such a reward, " because they were worthy ; '
which, though we suppose it to imply no proper merit, yet
it at least implies a moral fitness, or that the excellency of
their virtue in God's sight recommends them to such a
reward ; which seems directly repugnant to what has been
supposed, viz. that we are accepted, and approved of God,
as the heirs of salvation, not out of regard to the excellency
of our own virtue or goodness, or any moral fitness therein
to such a reward, but only on account of the dignity and
moral fitness of Christ's righteousness. (2.) Our being
eternally rewarded for our own holiness and good works,
necessarily supposes that our future happiness will be
greater or smaller, in some proportion as our own holiness
and obedience is more or less ; and that there are different
degrees of glory, according to different degrees of virtue
and good works, is a doctrine very expressly and frequent
ly taught us in Scripture. But this seems quite incon
sistent with the saints all having their future blessedness
as a reward of Christ's righteousness : for if Christ's right
eousness be imputed to all, and this be what entitles each
one to glory, then it is the same righteousness that entitles
one to glory which entitles another. But if all have glory
as the reward of the same righteousness, why have not all
the same glory ? Does not the same righteousness merit
as much glory when imputed to one as when imputed to
another ?
In answer to the first part of this objection, I would
observe, that it does not argue that we are justified by our
good deeds, that we shall have eternal blessings in reward
for them ; for it is in consequence of our justification, that
our good deeds become rewardable with spiritual and
eternal rewards. The acceptableness, and so the reward-
ableness, of our virtue, is not antecedent to justification,
but follows it, and is built entirely upon it; which is the
reverse of what those in the adverse scheme of justification
suppose, viz. that justification is built on the acceptable
ness and rewardableness of our virtue. They suppose that
a saving interest in Christ is given as a reward of our
virtue, or, (which is the same thing,) as a testimony of
God's acceptance of our excellency in our virtue. But
the contrary is true ; that God's respect to our virtue as
our amiableness in his sight, and his acceptance of it as
rewardable, is entirely built on our interest in Christ al
ready established. So that the relation to Christ, whereby
believers in scripture language are said to be in Christ, is
the very foundation of our virtues and good deeds being
accepted of God, and so of their being rewarded; for a
reward is a testimony of acceptance. For we, and all that
we do, are accepted only in the beloved, Eph. i. 6. Our
sacrifices are acceptable, only through our interest in him,

FIVE DISCOURSES.

044and through his worthiness and preciousness being, as it
were, mad"e ours. 1 Pet. ii. 4, 5. " To whom coming, as
unto 'a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but chosen
of God, and precious. Ye also as lively stones, are built
up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood to offer up spiritual
sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ." Here
being actually built on this stone, precious to God, is
mentioned as all the ground of the acceptableness of our
good works to God, and their becoming also precious in
his eyes. So, Heb. xiii. 21. " Make you perfect in every
good work to do his will, working in you that which is
well pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ." And
hence we are directed, whatever we offer to God, to offer
it in Christ's name, as expecting to have it accepted no
other way, than from the value that God has to that name.
Col. iii. 17. "And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do
all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God
and the Father by him." To act in Christ's name, is to
act under him as our head, and as having him to stand for
us, and represent us to God-ward.
The reason of this may be seen from what has been
already said, to show it is not meet that any thing in us
should be accepted of God as any excellency of our
persons, until we are actually in Christ, and justified
through him- The loveliness of the virtue of fallen crea
tures is nothing in the sight of God, till he beholds them
in Christ, and clothed with his righteousness. 1. Because
till then we stand condemned before God, by his own holy
law, to his utter rejection and abhorrence. And, 2. Be
cause we are infinitely guilty before him ; and the loveli
ness of our virtue bears no proportion to our guilt, and
must therefore pass for nothing before a strict judge. And,
3. Because our good deeds and virtuous acts themselves
are in a sense corrupt ; and the hatefulness of the corrup
tion of them, if we are beheld as we are in ourselves, or
separate from Christ, infinitely outweighs the loveliness of
the good that is in them. So that if no other sin was
considered but only that which attends the act of virtue
itself, the loveliness vanishes into nothing in comparison
of it ; and therefore the virtue must pass for nothing, out
of Christ. Not only are our best duties defiled, in being
attended with the exercises of sin and corruption wbich
precede, follow, and are intermingled with them ; but even
the holy acts themselves, and the gracious exercises of the
godly, are defective. Though the act most simply con
sidered is good, yet take the acts in their measure and
dimensions, and the manner in which they are exerted, and
they are sinfully defective ; there is that defect in them
that may well be called the corruption of them. That
defect is properly sin, an expression of a vile sinfulness of
heart, and what tends to provoke the just anger of God :
not because the exercise of love and other grace is not
equal to God's loveliness ; for it is impossible the love of
creatures (men or angels) should be so ; but because the
act is so very disproportionate to the occasion given for
love or other grace, considering God's loveliness, the
manifestation that is made of it, the exercises of kindness,
the capacity of human nature, and our advantages (and
the like) together. — A negative expression of corruption
may be as truly sin, and as just cause of provocation, as
a positive. Thus if a worthy and excellent person should,
from mere generosity and goodness, exceedingly lay out
himself, and with great expense and suffering save an
other's life, or redeem him from some extreme calamity ;
and if that other person should never thank him for it, or
express the least gratitude any way ; this would be a
negative expression of his ingratitude and baseness ; but
is equivalent to an act of ingratitude, or positive exercise
of a base unworthy spirit ; and is truly an expression of
it, and brings as much blame as if he by some positive
act had much injured another person. And so it would
be (only in a lesser degree) if the gratitude was but very
small, bearing no proportion to the benefit and obligation :
as if, for so great and extraordinary a kindness, he should
express no more gratitude than would have been becoming
towards a person who had only given him a cup of water
when thirsty, or shown him the way in a journey when at
a loss, or had done him some such small kindness. If he
should come to his benefactor to express his gratitude, and
should do after this manner, he might truly be said to act

unworthily and odiously ; he would show a most ungrate
ful spirit. His doing after such a manner might justly pe
abhorred by all ; and yet the gratitude, that little there is
of it, most simply considered, and so far as it goes, is
good. And so it is with respect to our exercise of love,
and gratitude, and other graces, towards God ; they are
defectively corrupt and sinful, and, take them as they are,
in their manner and measure, might justly be odious and
provoking to God, and would necessarily be so, were we
beheld out of Christ. For in that this defect is sin, it is
infinitely hateful ; and so the hatefulness of the very act
infinitely outweighs the loveliness of it ; because all sin
has infinite hatefulness and heinousness ; but our holiness
has but little value and loveliness, as has been elsewhere
demonstrated. .
Hence, though it be true that the saints are rewarded
for their good works, yet it is for Christ's sake only, and
not for the excellency of their works in themselves con
sidered, or beheld separately from Christ ; for so they have
no excellency in God's sight, or acceptableness to him, as
has now been shown. It is acknowledged that God, in
rewarding the holiness and good works of believers, does
in some respect give them happiness as a testimony of his
respect to the loveliness of their holiness and good works-
in his sight ; for that is the very notion of a reward. But
it is in a very different sense from what would have been
if man had not fallen ; which would have been to bestow
eternal life on man, as a testimony of God's respect to the
loveliness of what man did, considered as in itself, and as
in man separately by himself, and not beheld as a member
of Christ. In which sense also, the scheme of justification
we are opposing necessarily supposes the excellency of
our virtue to be respected and rewarded ; for it supposes a
saving interest in Christ itself to be given as a reward of it.
Two things come to pass, relating to the saints reward
for their inherent righteousness, by virtue of their relation
to Christ. 1 • The guilt of their persons is all done away,
and the pollution and hatefulness that attends and is in
their good works, is hid. 2. Their relation to Christ adds
a positive value and dignity to their good works in God s
sight. That little holiness, and those faint and feeble acts
of love, and other grace, receive an exceeding value in the
sight of God, by virtue of God's beholding them as in
Christ, and as it were members of one so infinitely worthy
in his eyes ; and that because God looks upon the persons
as of greater dignity on this account. Isa. xlui. 4. "Since
thou wast precious in my sight, thou hast been honour
able." God, for Christ's sake, and because they are
members of his own righteous and dear Son, sets an ex
ceeding value upon their persons; and hence it follows,
that he also sets a great value upon their good acts and
offerings. The same love and obedience in a person of
greater dignity and value in God's sight, is more valuable
in his eyes than in one of less dignity. Love is valuable
in proportion to the dignity of the person whose love it is;
because, so far as any one gives his love to another, he
gives himself, in that 'he gives his heart. But this is a
more excellent offering, in proportion as the person whose
self is offered is more worthy. Believers are become im
mensely more honourable in God's esteem by virtue of
their relation to Christ, than man would have been con
sidered as by himself, though he had been free from sin ;
as a mean person becomes more honourable when married
to a king. Hence God will probably reward the little
weak love, and poor and exceeding imperfect obedience of
believers in Christ, with more glorious reward than he
would have done Adam's perfect obedience. According
to the tenor of the first covenant, the person was to be
accepted and rewarded, only for the work's sake ; but by
the covenant of grace, the work is accepted and rewarded,
only for the person's sake ; the person being beheld ante
cedently as a member of Christ, and clothed with his
righteousness. So that though the saints' inherent holiness
is rewarded, yet this very reward is indeed not the less
founded on the worthiness and righteousness of Christ.
None of the value that their works have in his sight, nor
any of the acceptance they have with bim, is out of Christ,
and out of his righteousness ; but his worthiness as me
diator is the prime and only foundation on which all is
built, and the universal source whence all arises. God

Disc. 1.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

04,5

indeed doth great things out of regard to the saints' love
liness, but it is only as a secondary and derivative loveli
ness. When I speak of a derivative loveliness, I do not
mean only, that the qualifications themselves accepted as
lovely, are derived from Christ, from his power and pur
chase ; but that the acceptance of them as a loveliness,
and ail the value that is set upon them, and all their con
nexion with the reward, is founded in, and derived from,
Christ's righteousness and worthiness.
If we suppose that not only higher degrees of glory in
heaven, but heaven itself, is in some respect given in re
ward for the holiness and good works of the saints, in this
Secondary and derivative sense, it will not prejudice the
doctrine we have maintained . It is no way impossible that
God may bestsw heaven's glory wholly out of respect to
Christ's righteousness, and yet in reward for man's inherent
holiness, in different respects, and different ways. It may
be only Christ's righteousness that God has respect to, for
its own sake, the independent acceptableness and dignity
of it being sufficient of itself to recommend all that believe
in Christ to a title to this glory ; and so it may be only by
this that persons enter into a title to heaven, or have their
prime right to it : and yet God may also have respect to
the saints' own holiness, for Christ's sake, and as deriving
a value from Christ's merit, which he may testify in be
stowing heaven upon them. The saints being beheld as
members of Christ, their obedience is looked upon by God
as something of Christ's, it being the obedience of the
members of Christ ; as the sufferings of the members of
Christ are looked upon, in some respect, as the sufferings
of Christ. Hence the apostle, speaking of his sufferings,
says, Col. i. 24. " Who now rejoice in my sufferings for
you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of
Christ in my flesh." To the same purpose is Matt. xxv.
35, &c. I was an hungred, naked, sick, and in prison, &c.
And so that in Rev. xi. 8. " And their dead bodies shall
lie in the street of the great city, which spiritually is called
Sodom and Egypt, where also our Lord was crucified."
By the merit and righteousness of Christ, such favour of
God towards the believer may be obtained, as that God
may hereby be already, as it were, disposed to make them
perfectly and eternally happy. But yet this does not hin
der, but that God in his wisdom may choose to bestow
this perfect and eternal happiness in this way, viz. in some
respect as a reward of their holiness and obedience. It is
not impossible but that the blessedness may be bestowed
as a reward for that which is done after that an interest is
already obtained in that favour, which (to speak of God
after the manner of men) disposes God to bestow the
blessedness. Our heavenly Father may already have that
favour for a child, whereby he may be thoroughly ready to
give the child an inheritance, because he is his child;
which he is by the purchase of Christ's righteousness : and
yet that the Father may choose to bestow the inheritance
on the child in a way of reward for his dutifulness, and
behaving in a manner becoming a child. And so great a
reward may not be judged more than a meet reward for his
dutifulness ; but that so great a reward is judged meet,
does not arise from the excellency of the obedience abso
lutely considered, but from his standing in so near and
honourable a relation to God, as that of a child, which is
obtained only by the righteousness of Christ. And thus
the reward, and'the greatness of it, arises properly from
the righteousness of Christ ; though it be indeed in some
sort the reward of their obedience. As a father might
justly esteem the inheritance no more than a meet reward
for the obedience of his child, and yet esteem it more than
a meet reward for the obedience of a servant. The favour
whence a believer's heavenly Father bestows the eternal
inheritance, and his title as an heir, is founded in that rela
tion he stands in to him as a child, purchased by Christ's
righteousness ; though he in wisdom chooses to bestow it
in such a way, and therein to testify his acceptance of the
amiableness of his obedience in Christ.
Believers having a title to heaven by faith antecedent to
their obedience, or its being absolutely promised to them
before, does not hinder but that the actual bestowment of
heaven may also be a testimony of God's regard to their
obedience, though performed afterwards. Thus it was with
Abraham, the father and pattern of all believers ; God be

stowed upon him that blessing of multiplying his seed as
the stars of heaven, and causing that in his seed all the
families of the earth should be blessed, in reward for his
obedience in offering up his son Isaac, Gen. xxii. 16, 17,
18. "And said, By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord,
for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not with
held thy son, thine only son ; that in blessing I will bless
thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the
stars of heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea
shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies ;
and in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed ;
because thou hast obeyed my voice." And yet the very
same blessings had been from time to time promised to
Abraham, in the most positive terms, and the promise, with
great solemnity, confirmed and sealed to him; as chap.
xii. 2, 3. chap. xiii. 16. chap. xv. 1, 4—7, &c. chap. xvii.
throughout; chap, xviii. 10, 18.
From what has been said we may easily solve the diffi
culty arising from that text in Rev. iii. 4. " They shall
walk with me in white, for they are worthy ;" which is
parallel with that text in Luke xx. 35. "But they which
shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world, and the
resurrection from the dead." I allow (as in the objection)
that this worthiness does doubtless denote a moral fitness
to the reward, or that God looks on these glorious benefits
as a meet testimony of his regard to the value which their
persons and performances have in his sight.
1. God looks on these glorious benefits as a meet tes
timony of his regard to the value which their persons have
in his sight. But he sets this value upon their persons
purely for Christ's sake. They are such jewels, and have
such preciousness in his eyes, only because they are beheld
in Christ, and by reason ofthe worthiness of the head they
are the members of, and the stock they are grafted into.
And the value that God sets upon them on this account is
so great, that God thinks meet, from regard to it, to admit
them to such exceeding glory. The saints, on account of
their relation to Christ, are such precious jewels in God's
sight, that they are thought worthy of a place in his own
crown. Mai. iii. 17. Zech. ix. 16." So far as the saints are
said to be valuable in God's sight, on whatever account, so
far may they properly be said to be worthy, or meet for
that honour which is answerable to the value or price which
God sets upon them. A child or wife of a prince is worthy
to be treated with great honour; and therefore if a mean
person should be adopted to be a child of a prince, or
should be espoused to a prince, it would be proper to say,
that she was worthy of such and such honour and respect,
and there would be no force upon the words in saying, that
she ought to have such respect paid her, for she is worthy,
though it be only on account of her relation to the prince
that she is so.
2. From the value God sets upon their persons, for the
sake of Christ's worthiness, he also sets a high value on
their virtue and performances. Their meek and quiet spirit
is of great price in his sight. Their fruits are pleasant
fruits, their offerings are an odour of sweet smell to him ;
and that because of the value he sets on their persons, as
has been already observed and explained. This precious
ness or high valuableness of believers is a moral fitness to
a reward ;" and yet this valuableness is all in the righteous
ness of Christ, that is the foundation of it. The thing re
spected is not excellency in them separately by themselves,
or in their virtue by itself, but the value in God's account
arises from other considerations ; which is the natural im
port of Luke xx. 35. "They which shall be accounted
worthy to obtain that world," &c. and Luke xxi. 36. " That
ye may be accounted worthy to escape all these things that
shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of man."
2 Thess. i. 5. " That ye may be counted worthy of the
kingdom of God, for which ye also suffer."
There is a vast difference between this scheme, and what
is supposed in the scheme of those that oppose the doc
trine of justification by faith alone. This lays the founda
tion of first acceptance with God, and all actual salvation
consequent upon it, wholly in Christ and his righteousness.
On the contrary, in their scheme, a regard to man's own
excellency or virtue is supposed to be first, and to have the
place of the first foundation in actual salvation, though not.
in that ineffectual redemption, which they suppose com-

646

FIVE DISCOURSES.

monto all. They lay the foundation of all discriminating
salvation in man's own virtue and moral excellency. This
is the very bottom stone in this affair ; for they suppose
that it is from regard to our virtue, that even a special
interest in Christ itself is given. The foundation being
thus contrary, the whole scheme becomes exceeding di
verse and contrary; the one is an evangelical scheme, the
other a legal one ; the one is utterly inconsistent with our
being justified by Christ's righteousness, the other not at all.
From what has been said, we may understand, not only
how the forgiveness of sin granted in justification is indis
solubly connected with a forgiving spirit in us, but how
there may be many exercises of forgiving mercy granted in
reward for our forgiving those who trespass against us.
For none will deny but that there are many acts of divine
forgiveness towards the saints, that do not presuppose an
unjustified state immediately preceding that forgiveness.
None will deny, that saints who never fell from a justified
state, yet commit many sins which God forgives afterwards,
by laying aside his fatherly displeasure. This forgiveness
may be in reward for our forgiveness, without any preju
dice to the doctrine that has been maintained, as well as
other mercies and blessings consequent on justification.
With respect to the second part of the objection, that re
lates to the different degrees of glory, and the seeming in
consistence there is in it, that the degrees of glory in dif
ferent saints should be greater or lesser according to their
inherent holiness and good works, and yet, that every one's
glory should be purchased with the price of the very same
imputed righteousness, — I answer, That Christ, by his
righteousness, purchased for every one complete and per
fect happiness, according to his capacity. But this does
not hinder but that the saints, being of various capacities,
may have various degrees of happiness, and yet all their
happiness be the fruit of Christ s purchase. Indeed it
cannot be properly said, that Christ purchased any parti
cular degree of happiness, so that the value of Christ's
righteousness in the sight of God, is sufficient to raise a
believer so high in happiness, and no higher, and so that
if the believer were made happier, it would exceed the
value of Christ's righteousness ; but in general, Christ
purchased eternal life, or perfect happiness for all, accord
ing to their several capacities. The saints are as so many
vessels of different sizes, cast into a sea of happiness,
where every vessel is full ; this Christ purchased for all.
But after all, it is left to God's sovereign pleasure to de
termine the largeness of the vessel ; Christ's righteousness
meddles not with this matter. Eph. iv. 4, 5, 6, 7. " There
is one body, and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one
hope of your calling ; one Lord, one faith, one baptism,"
&c. — " But unto every one of us is given grace according
to the measure of the gift of Christ." God may dispense
in this matter according to what rule he pleases, not the
less for what Christ has done : he may dispense either
without condition, or upon what condition he pleases to
fix. It is evident that Christ's righteousness meddles not
with this matter; for what Christ did was to fulfil the
covenant of works ; but the covenant of works did not
meddle at all with this. If Adam'had persevered in per
fect obedience, he and his posterity would have had perfect
and full happiness ; every one's happiness would have so
answered his capacity, that he would have been complete
ly blessed; but God would have been at liberty to have
made some of one capacity, and others of another, as he
pleased. — The angels have obtained eternal life, or a state
of confirmed glory, by a covenant of works, whose con
dition was perfect obedience ; but yet some are higher in
glory than others, according to the several capacities that
God, according to his sovereign pleasure, hath given them.
So that it being still left with God, notwithstanding the
perfect obedience of the second Adam, to fix the degree
of each one's capacity by what rule he pleases, he hath
been pleased to fix the degree of capacity, and so of glory,
by the proportion of the saints' grace and fruitfulness
here. He gives higher degrees of glory, in reward for
higher degrees of holiness and good works, because it
pleases him ; and yet all the happiness of each saint is in
deed the fruit of the purchase of Christ's obedience. If
it had been but one man that Christ had obeyed and died
for, and it had pleased God to make him of a very large ca

pacity, Christ's perfect obedience would have purchased
that his capacity should be filled, and then all his happi
ness might properly be said to be the fruit of Christ's per
fect obeclience ; though, if he had been of a less capacity,
he would not have had so much happiness by the same
obedience ; and yet would have had as much as Christ
merited for him. Christ's righteousness meddles not with
the degree of happiness, any otherwise than as he merits
that it should be full and perfect, according to the capaci
ty : and so it may be said to be concerned in the degree of
happiness, as perfect is a degree with respect to imperfect;
but it meddles not with degrees of perfect happiness.
This matter may be yet better understood, if we consider
that Christ and the whole church of saints are, as it were,
one body, of which he is the Head, and they members, of
different place and capacity : now the whole body, head,
and members, have communion in Christ's righteousness ;
they are all partakers of the benefit of it; Christ himself
the Head is rewarded for it, and every member is partaker
of the benefit and reward. But it does by no means fol
low, that every part should equally partake of the benefit,
but every part in proportion to its place and capacity ; the
Head partakes of far more than other parts, and the more
noble members partake of more than the inferior. As it is
in a natural body that enjoys perfect health, the head, and
the heart, and lungs, have a greater share of this health,
they have it more seated in them, than the hands and feet,
because thev are parts of greater capacity ; though the
hands and feet are as much in perfect health as those
nobler parts of the body. So it is in the mystical body of
Christ, all the members are partakers of the benefit of the
Head ; but it is according to the different capacity and
place they have in the body ; and God determines that
place and capacity as he pleases; he makes whom he
pleases the foot, and whom he pleases the hand, and whom
he pleases the lungs, &c. 1 Cor. xii. 18. " God hath set
the members every one of them in the body, as it hath
pleased him." God efficaciously determines the place and
capacity of every member, by the different degrees of grace
and assistance in the improvement of it in this world.
Those that he intends for the highest place in the body, he
gives them most of his Spirit, the greatest share of the di
vine nature, the Spirit and nature of Christ Jesus the Head,
and that assistance whereby they perform the most excel
lent works, and do most abound in them.
Object. 4. It may be objected against what has been
supposed, {viz. That rewards are given to our good works,
only in consequence of an interest in Christ, or in testi
mony of God s respect to the excellency or value of them
in his sight, as built on an interest in Christ's righteous
ness already obtained,) That the Scripture speaks of an
interest in Christ itself, as being given out of respect to
our moral fitness. Matt. x. 37, 38, 39. " He that loveth
father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me : he
that loveth son or daughter more than me, is not worthy
of me : he that taketh not up his cross, and followeth after
me, is not worthy of me : he that findeth his life, shall
lose it," Sec. Worthiness here at least signifies a moral
fitness, or an excellency that recommends. And this place
seems to intimate as though it were from respect to a mo
ral fitness that men are admitted even to an union with
Christ, and interest in him ; and therefore this worthiness
cannot be consequent on being in Christ, and by the im
putation of his worthiness, or from any value that is in us,
or in our actions in God's sight, as beheld in Christ.
To this I answer, That though persons when they are
accepted, are not accepted as worthy, yet when they are re
jected, they are rejected as unworthy. He that does not
love Christ above other things, but treats him with such
indignity, as to set him below earthly things, shall be
treated as unworthy of Christ ; his unworthiness of Christ,
especially in that particular, shall be marked against him,
and imputed to him. And though he be a professing
Christian, and live in the enjoyment of the gospel, and has
been visibly ingrafted into Christ, and admitted as one of
his disciples, as Judas was ; yet he shall be thrust out in
wrath, as a punishment of his vile treatment of Christ.
The forementioned words do not imply, that if a man does
love Christ above father and mother, &c. that he would be
worthy ; the most they imply is, that such a visible Chris-

Disc. 1.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

tian shall be treated and thrust out as unworthy. He that
believes is not received for the worthiness or moral fitness
of faith ; but yet the visible Christian is cast out by God,
for the unworthiness and moral unfitness of unbelief. A
being accepted as one of Christ's, is not the reward of be
lieving ; but being thrust out from being one of Christ's
disciples, after a visible admission as such, is properly a
punishment of unbelief. John iii. 18, 19. " He that be
lieveth on him, is not condemned ; but he that believeth
not, is condemned already, because he hath not believed
in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this
is the condemnation, that light is come into the world,
and men loved darkness rather than light, because their
deeds were evil." Salvation is promised to faith as a free
gift, but damnation is threatened to unbelief as a debt, or
punishment due to unbelief. They who believed while in
the wilderness, did not enter into Canaan, because of the
worthiness of their faith ; but God sware in his wrath,
that thev that believed not should not enter in, because of
the unworthiness of their unbelief. Admitting a soul to
an union with Christ is an act of free and sovereign grace;
but excluding at death, and at the day of judgment, those
professors of Christianity who have "had the offers of a
Saviour, and enjoyed great privileges as God's people, is a
judicial proceeding, and a just punishment of their unwor
thy treatment of Christ. The design of this saying of
Christ is to make them sensible of the unworthiness of
their treatment of Christ, who professed him to be their
Lord and Saviour, and set him below father and mother,
&c. and not to show the worthiness of loving him above
father and mother. If a beggar should be offered any
great and precious gift, but as soon as offered, should
trample it under his feet, it might be taken from him, as
unworthy to have it. Or if a malefactor should have his
pardon offered him, that he might be freed from execu
tion, and should only scoff at it, his pardon might be re
fused him, as unworthy of it ; though if he had received
it, he would not have had it for his worthiness, or as being
recommended to it by his virtue ; for his being a male
factor supposes him unworthy, and its being offered him
to have it only on accepting, supposes that the king looks
for no worthiness, nothing in him for which he should be
stow pardon as a reward. This may teach us how to un
derstand Acts xiii. 46. " It was necessary that the word
of God should first have been spoken unto you ; but see
ing ye put it from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of
everlasting life, lo, we turn to the Gentiles."
Object. 5. It is objected against the doctrine of justifi
cation by faith alone, That repentance is evidently spoken
of in Scripture as"that which is in a special manner the
condition of remission of sins ; but remission of sins is by
all allowed to be that wherein justification does (at least)
in great part consist.
But it must certainly arise from a misunderstanding of
what the Scripture says about repentance, to suppose that
faith and repentance are two distinct things, that in like
manner are the conditions of justification. For it is most
plain from the Scripture, that the condition of justifica
tion, or that in us 'by which we are justified, is but one,
and that is faith. Faith and repentance are not two dis
tinct conditions of justification, nor are they two distinct
things that together make one condition of justification ;
but faith comprehends the whole of that by which we are
justified, or by which we come to have an interest in
Christ, and there is nothing else has a parallel concern
with it in the affair of our salvation. And this the divines
on the other side themselves are sensible of, and therefore
they suppose that the faith the apostle Paul speaks of,
which he says we are justified by alone, comprehends in
it repentance.And therefore, in answer to the objection, I would say,
That when repentance is spoken of in Scripture as the
condition of pardon, thereby is not intended any particu
lar grace, or act, properly distinct from faith, that has a
parallel influence with it in the affair of our pardon or
justification ; but by repentance is intended nothing dis
tinct from active conversion, (or conversion actively con
sidered,) as it respects the term from which. Active con
version is a motion or exercise of the mind that respects
two terms, viz. sin and God ; and by repentance is meant

647
this conversion, or active change of the mind, so far as it
is conversant about the term from which, or about sin.
This is what the word repentance properly signifies ; which,
in the original of the New Testament, is p-ravma, and
signifies a change of the mind, or, which is the same thing,
the turning or the conversion of the mind. Repentance is
this turning, as it respects what is turned from. Acts xxvi.
20. " Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I showed unto them
of Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the
coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should
repent, and turn to God." Both these are the same turn
ing, but only with respect to opposite terms : in the former,
is expressed the exercise of mind about sin in this turning;
in the other, the exercise of mind towards God.
If we look over the scriptures that speak of evangelical
repentance, we shall presently see that repentance is to
be understood in this sense ; as Matt. ix. 13. " 1 am not
come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."
Luke xiii. 3. " Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise
perish." And chap. xv. 7, 10. " There is joy in heaven
over one sinner that repenteth,'- i. e. over one sinner that
is converted. Acts xi. 18. " Then hath God also to the
Gentiles granted repentance unto life." This is said by
the Christians of the circumcision at Jerusalem, upon
Peter's giving an account of the conversion of Cor
nelius and his family, and their embracing the gospel,
though Peter had said nothing expressly about their sor
row for sin. And again, Acts xvii. 30. " But now com
mandeth all men every where to repent." And Luke xvi.
30. " Nay, father Abraham, but if one went to them from
the dead, they would repent." 2 Pet. iii. 9. " The Lord
is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count
slackness, but is long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that
any should perish, but that all should come to repentance."
It is plain that in these and other places, by repentance is
meant conversion.
Now it is true, that conversion is the condition of par
don and justification : but if it be so, how absurd is it to
say, that conversion is one condition of justification, and
faith another, as though they were two distributively dis
tinct and parallel conditions ! Conversion is the condition
of justification, because it is that great change by which
we are brought from sin to Christ, and by which we be
come believers in him : agreeable to Matt. xxi. 32. "And
ye, when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye
might believe him." When we are directed to repent,
that our sins may be blotted out, it is as much as to say,
Let your minds and hearts be changed, that your sins may
be blotted out. But if it be said, Let your hearts be
changed, that you may be justified; and believe, that you
may be justified ; does it therefore follow, that the heart
being changed is one condition of justification, and believ
ing another ? But our minds must be changed, that we
may believe, and so may be justified.
And besides, evangelical repentance, being active con
version, is not to be treated of as a particular grace, pro
perly and entirely distinct from faith, as by some it seems
to have been. What is conversion, but the sinful, alien
ated soul's closing with Christ, or the sinner's being
brought to believe in Christ ? That exercise of soul in
conversion that respects sin, cannot be excluded out of the
nature of faith in Christ : there is something in faith, or
closing with Christ, that respects sin, and that is evan
gelical repentance. That repentance which in Scripture is
called, repentance for the remission of sins, is that very
principle or operation of the mind itself that is called faith,
so far as it is conversant about sin. Justifying faith in a
Mediator is conversant about two things : it is conversant
about sin or evil to be rejected and to be delivered from, and
about positive good to be accepted and obtained by the Me
diator ;!as conversant about the former of these, it is evange
lical repentance, or repentance for remission of sins. Surely
they must be very ignorant, or at least very inconsiderate,
of the whole tenor of the gospel, who think that the re
pentance by which remission of sins is obtained, can be
completed, as to all that is essential to it, without any re
spect to Christ, or application of the mind to the Me
diator, who alone has made atonement for sin. Surely so
great a part of salvation as remission of sins, is not to be
obtained without looking or coining to the great and only

648

FIVE DISCOURSES.

Saviour. It is true, repentance, in its more general ab
stracted nature, is only a sorrow for sin, and forsaking of
it, which is a duty of natural religion ; but evangelical re
pentance, or repentance for remission of sins, hath more
than this essential to it ; a dependence of soul on the Me
diator for deliverance from sin, is of the essence of it.
That justifying repentance has the nature of faith, seems
evident by Acts xix. 4. " Then said Paul, John veriiy bap
tized with the baptism of repentance, saying unto the
people, that they should believe on him which should come
after him, that is, on Christ Jesus." The latter words,
" saying unto the people, that they should believe on him,"
&c. are evidently exegetical of the former, and explain
how he preached repentance for the remission of sins.
When it is said, that he preached repentance for the re
mission of sin, saying, that they should believe on Christ,
it cannot be supposed but that his saying, that they should
believe on Christ, was intended as directing them what to
do that they might obtain the remission of sins. So,
2 Tim. ii. 25. " In meekness instructing those that oppose
themselves ; if God peradventure will give them repent
ance to the acknowledging of the truth." That acknow
ledging of the truth which there is in believing, is here
spoken of as what is retained in repentance. And on the
other hand, that faith includes repentance in its nature, is
evident by the apostle's speaking of sin as destroyed in
faith, Gal. ii. 18. — In the preceding verses the apostle
mentions an objection against the doctrine of justification
by faith alone, viz. that it tends to encourage men in sin,
aud so to make Christ the minister of sin. This objec
tion he rejects and refutes with this, " If I build again the
things that I destroyed, I make myself a transgressor."
If sin be destroyed by faith, it must be by repentance of
sin included in it ; for we know that it is our repentance
of sin, or the mrama, or turning of the mind from sin,
that is our destroying our sin.
That in justifying faith which directly respects sin, or the
evil to be delivered from by the Mediator, is as follows :
a sense of our own sinfulness, and the hatefulness of it,
and a hearty acknowledgment of its desert of the threat
ened punishment, looking to the free mercy of God in a
Redeemer, for deliverance from it and its punishment.
Concerning this, here described, three things may be
noted : 1 . That it is the very same with that evangelical
repentance to which remission of sins is promised in Scrip
ture. 2. That it is of the essence of justifying faith, and
is the same with that faith, so far as it is conversant about
evil to be delivered from by the Mediator. 3. That this is in
deed the proper and peculiar condition of remission of sins.
1 . All of it is essential to evangelical repentance, and is
indeed the very thing meant by that repentance, to which
remission of sins is promised in the gospel. As to the
former part of the description, viz. a sense of our own
sinfulness, and the hatefulness of it, and a hearty acknow
ledgment of its desert of wrath, none will deny it to be
included in repentance : but this does not comprehend the
whole essence of evangelical repentance ; but what follows
does also properly and essentially belong to its nature,
looking to the free mercy of God in a Redeemer, for de
liverance from it, and the punishment of it. That repent
ance to which remission is promised, not only always has
this with it, but it is contained in it, as what is of the
proper nature and essence of it : and respect is ever had
to this in the nature of repentance, whenever remission is
promised to it ; and it is especially from respect to this in
the nature of repentance, that it has that promise made to
it. If this latter part be missing, it fails of the nature of
that evangelical repentance to which remission of sins is
promised. If repentance remains in sorrow for sin, and
does not reach to a looking to the free mercy of God in
Christ for pardon, it is not that which is the condition of
pardon, neither shall pardon be obtained by it. Evan
gelical repentance is an humiliation for sin 'before God ;
but the sinner never comes and humbles himself before
God in any other repentance, but that which includes
hoping in his mercy for remission : if sorrow be not
accompanied with that, there will be no coming to God in
it, but a flying further from him. There is some worship
of God in justifying repentance ; but that is not in any
other repentance "which has not a sense of and faith in the

divine mercy to forgive sin ; Psalm exxx. 4. " There is
forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared." The
promise of mercy to a true penitent, in Prov. xxviii. 13. is
expressed in these terms, " Whoso confesseth and forsak-
eth his sins, shall have mercy." But there is faith in
God's mercy in that confessing. The psalmist, (Psalm
xxxii.) speaking of the blessedness of the man whose
transgression is forgiven — and whose sin is covered, to
whom the Lord imputes not sin — says, that while he kept
silence his bones waxed old ; but he acknowledged his sin
unto God, his iniquity he did not hide ; he said, he would
confess his transgression to the Lord, and then God for
gave the iniquity of his sin. The manner of expression
plainly holds forth, that then he began to encourage him
self in the mercy of God, but his bones waxed old while
he kept silence ; and therefore the apostle Paul, in the
4th of Romans, brings this instance, to confirm the doc
trine of justification by faith alone, that he had been in
sisting on. When sin is aright confessed to God, there is
always faith in that act. That confessing of sin which is
joined with despair, as in Judas, is not the confession to
which the promise is made. In Acts ii. 38. the direction
given to those who were pricked in their heart with a sense
of the guilt of sin, was to repent, and be baptized in the
name of Jesus Christ for the remission of their sins.
Being baptized in the name of Christ for the remission of
sins, implied faith in Christ for the remission of sins.
Repentance for the remission of sins was typified of old
by the priest's confessing the sins of the people over the
scape-goat, laying his hands on him, Lev. xvi. 21 . denot
ing it is that repentance and confession of sin only that
obtains remission, which is made over Christ the great
sacrifice, and with dependence on him. Many other
things might be produced from the Scripture, that in like
manner confirm this point ; but these may be sufficient.
2. All the forementioned description is ofthe essence of
justifying faith, and not different from it, so far as it is
conversant about sin, or the evil to be delivered from by
the Mediator. For it is doubtless of the essence of justi
fying faith, to embrace Christ as a Saviour from sin and
its punishment ; and all that is contained in that act is
contained in the nature of faith itself. But in the act of
embracing Christ as a Saviour from our sin 'and its punish
ment, is implied a sense of our sinfulness, and a hatred of
our sins, or a rejecting them with abhorrence, and a sense
of our desert of punishment. Embracing Christ as a
Saviour from sin, implies the contrary act, viz. rejecting
sin. If we fly to the light to be delivered from darkness,
the same act is contrary to darkness, viz. a rejecting of it.
In proportion to the earnestness with which we embrace
Christ as a Saviour from sin, in the same proportion is the
abhorrence with which we reject sin, in the same act.
Yea, suppose there be in the nature of faith, as conversant
about sin, no more than the hearty embracing of Christ as
a Saviour from the punishment of sin, this act will imply
in it the whole of the above-mentioned description. It
implies a sense of our own sinfulness. Certainly in the
hearty embracing of a Saviour from the punishment of our
sinfulness, there is the exercise of a sense that we are sin
ful. We cannot heartily embrace Christ as a Saviour from
the punishment of that which we are not sensible we are
guilty of. There is also in the same act, a sense of our
desert ofthe threatened punishment. We cannot heartily
embrace Christ as a Saviour from that which we are not
sensible that we have deserved. For if we are not sensible
that we have deserved the punishment, we shall not be
sensible that we have any need of a Saviour from it, or,
at least, shall not be convinced but that God who offers the
Saviour, unjustly makes him needful; and we cannot
heartily embrace' such an offer. And further, there is im
plied in a hearty embracing Christ as a Saviour from
punishment, not only a conviction of conscience, that we
have deserved the punishment, such as the devils and
damned have ; but there is a hearty acknowledgment of
it, with the submission of the soul, so as, with the accord
of the heart, to own that God might be just in the punish
ment. If the heart rises against the act or judgment of
God, in holding us obliged to the punishment, when he
offers us his Son as a Saviour from the punishment, we
cannot with the consent of the heart receive him in that

Disc. I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

649

character : but if persons thus submit to the righteousness
of so dreadful a punishment of sin, this carries in it a
hatred of sin.
That such a sense of our sinfulness, and utter unworthi
ness, and desert of punishment, belongs to the nature of
saving faith, is what the Scripture from time to time holds
forth ; as particularly in Matt. xv. 26—28. " But he
answered and said, It is not meet to take the children's
bread, and to cast it to dogs. And she said, Truth, Lord :
yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their
master's table. Then Jesus answered, and said unto her,
O woman, great is thy faith." — And Luke vii. 6 — 9. " The
centurion sent friends to him, saying unto him, Lord,
trouble not thyself, Tor I am not worthy that thou shouldst
enter under my roof. Wherefore neither thought I myself
worthy to come unto thee ; but say in a word, and my
servant shall be healed : for I also am a man set under
authority," &c. — " When Jesus heard these things, he
marvelled at him, and turned him about, and said unto
the people that followed him, I say unto you, I have not
found so great faith, no, not in Israel." And also ver. 37,
38. " And behold, a woman in the city, which was a
sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Phari
see's house, brought an alabaster-box of ointment, and
stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash
his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her
head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the
ointment." Together with ver. 50. " He said unto the
woman, Thy faith hath saved thee ; go in peace."
These things do not necessarily suppose that repentance
and faith are words of just the same signification ; for it is
only so much in justifying faith as respects the evil to be
delivered from by the Saviour, that is called repentance.
Besides, both repentance and faith, take them only in their
general nature, are entirely distinct ; repentance is a sorrow
for sin, and forsaking of it ; and faith is a trusting in God's
sufficiency and truth. But faith and repentance, as evan
gelical duties, or justifying faith, and repentance for remis
sion of sins, contain more in them, and imply a respect to
a mediator, and involve each other's nature ;* though they
still bear the name of faith and repentance, from those
general moral virtues — that repentance, which is a duty of
natural religion, and that faith, which was a duty required
under the first covenant — that are contained in this evan
gelical act ; which severally appear, when this act is con
sidered with respect to its different terms and objects.
It may be objected here, that the Scripture sometimes
mentions faith and repentance together, as if they were
entirely distinct things ; as in Mark i. 15. "-Repent ye,
and believe the gospel." But there is no need of under
standing these as two distinct conditions of salvation, but
the words are exegetical one of another. It is to teach us
after what manner we must repent, viz. as believing the
gospel, and after what manner we must believe the gospel,
viz. as repenting. These words no more prove faith and
repentance to be entirely distinct, than those fore-mention
ed. Matt. xxi. 32. " And ye, when ye had seen it, re
pented not afterwards, that ye might believe him." Or
those, 2 Tim. ii. 25. " If peradventure God will give them
repentance to the acknowledging of the truth." The
apostle, in Acts xix. 4. seems to have reference to these
words of John the Baptist, " John baptized with the
baptism of repentance, saying unto the people, that they
should believe," &c. where the latter words, as we have
already observed, are to explain how he preached repent
ance. Another Scripture where faith and repentance are men
tioned together, is Acts xx. 21. " Testifying both to the
Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance towards God,
and faith towards the Lord Jesus 'Christ." It may be
objected, that in this place, faith and repentance are not
only spoken of as distinct things, but having distinct
objects. . , .
To this I answer. That faith and repentance, in their
general nature, are distinct things : and repentance for the
remission of sins, or that in justifying faith that respects
» Agreeable to this is what Mr. Locke says in his second Vindication of
the Reasonableness of Christianity, &c. vol. ii. of his works, p. 630. 631
" The believing bim therefore to be the Messiah is very often, with great
reason put both for faith and repentance too, which are sometimes set
down singly, where one is put for both, as implying the other.

the evil to be delivered from, so far as it regards that term,
which is what especially denominates it repentance, has
respect to God as the object, because he is the Being
offended by sin, and to be reconciled, but that in this
justifying act, whence it is denominated faith, does more
especially respect Christ. But let us interpret it how we
will, the objection of faith being here so distinguished from
repentance, is as much of an objection against the scheme
of those that oppose justification by faith alone, as against
this scheme ; for they hold that the justifying faith the
apostle Paul speaks of, includes repentance, as has been
already observed.
3. This repentance that has been described, is indeed
the special condition of remission of sins. This seems
very evident by the Scripture, as particularly, Mark i. 4.
" John did baptize in the wilderness, and preach the bap
tism of repentance, for the remission of sins." So, Luke
iii. 3. " And he came into all the country about Jordan,
preaching the baptism of repentance, for the remission of
sins." Luke xxiv. 47. " And that repentance and remis
sion of sins should be preached in his name among all
nations." Acts v. 31. " Him hath God exalted with his
right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, for to give repent
ance unto Israel, and forgiveness of sins." Chap. ii. 38.
Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of
Jesus Christ, for the remission of sins." And, chap. iii.
19. " Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your
sins may be blotted out." The like is evident by Lev.
xxvi. 40 — 42. Job xxxiii. 27, 28. Psal. xxxii. 5. Prov.
xxviii. 13. Jer. iii. 13. And 1 John i. 9. and other places.
And the reason may be plain from what has been said.
We need not wonder that what in faith especially respects
sin, should be especially the condition of remission of
sins ; or that this motion or exercise of the soul, as it
rejects and flies from evil, and embraces Christ as a Sa
viour from it, should especially be the condition of being
free from that evil ; in like manner, as the same principle
or motion, as it seeks good, and cleaves to Christ as the
procurer of that good, should be the condition of obtain
ing that good. Faith with respect to good is accepting,
and with respect to evil it is rejecting. Yea this rejecting
evil is itself an act of acceptance ; it is accepting freedom
or separation from that evil ; and this freedom or separa
tion is the benefit bestowed in remission. No wonder that
what in faith immediately respects this benefit, and is our
acceptance of it, should be the special condition of our
having it. It is so with respect to all the benefits that
Christ has purchased. Trusting in God through Christ for
such a particular benefit that we need, is the special con
dition of obtaining that benefit. When we need protec
tion from enemies, the exercise of faith with respect to such
a benefit, or trusting in Christ for protection from enemies,
is especially the way to obtain that particular benefit, rather
than trusting in Christ for something else ; and so of any
other benefit that might be mentioned. So prayer (which
is the expression of faith) for a particular mercy needed, is
especially the way to obtain that mercy.f — So that no
argument can be drawn from hence against the doctrine of
justification by faith alone. And there is that in the
nature of repentance, which peculiarly tends to establish
the contrary of justification by works : for nothing so much
renounces our own worthiness and excellency, as repent
ance ; the very nature of it is to acknowledge our own
utter sinfulness and unworthiness, and to renounce our own
goodness, and all confidence in self; and so to trust in the
propitiation of the Mediator, and ascribe all the glory of
forgiveness to him.
Object. 6. The last objection I shall mention, is that
paragraph in the 3d chapter of James, where persons are
said expressly to be justified by works : Ver. 21. " Was
not Abraham our father justified by works ?" Ver. 24. " Ye
see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by
faith only." Ver. 25. " Was not Rahab the harlot justified
by works ?"
In answer to this objection, I would,
1 . Take notice of the great unfairness of the divines that
t If repentance justifies, or be that by wbich we obtain pardon of sin
any other way than this, it must be either as a virtue or righteousness, or
something amiable in us -. or else it must be, that our sorrow and condemn
ing what is past, is accepted as some atonement for it : both which are
equally contrary to the gospel-doctrine of justification by Christ.

650

FIVE DISCOURSES.

oppose us, in the improvement they make of this passage
against us. All will allow, that in' that proposition of St.
James, " By works a man is justified, and not by faith
only," one of the terms, either the word faith, or else the
word justify, is not to be understood precisely in the same
sense as the same terms when used by St. Paul ; because
they suppose, as well as we, that it was not the intent of
the apostle James to contradict St. Paul in that doctrine
of justification by faith alone, in which he had instructed
the churches. But if we understand both the terms, as
used by each apostle, in precisely the same sense, then
what one asserts is a precise, direct, and full contradiction
of the other, the one affirming and the other denying the
very same thing. So that all tlie controversy from this
text comes to tfiis, viz. which of these two terms shall be
understood in a diversity from St. Paul. They say that it
is the word faith ; for they suppose, that when the apostle
Paul uses the word, and makes faith that by which alone
we are justified, that then by it is understood a compli
ance with and practice of Christianity in general ; so as to
include all saving christian virtue and obedience. But as
the apostle James uses the word faith in this place, they
suppose thereby is to be understood only an assent of the
understanding "to the truth of gospel doctrines, as distin
guished from good works, and that may exist separate from
them, and from all saving grace. We, on the other hand,
suppose that the word justify is to be understood in a dif
ferent sense from the apostle Paul. So that they are
forced to go as far in their scheme, in altering the sense of
terms from Paul's use of them, as we. But yet at the
same time that they freely vary the sense of the former of
them, viz. faith, yet when we understand the latter, viz.
justify, in a different sense from St. Paul, they exclaim
against us. What necessity of framing this distinction,
but only to serve an opinion ? At this rate a man may
maintain any thing, though never so contrary to Scripture,
and elude the clearest text in the Bible ! though they do
not show us why we have not as good warrant to under
stand the word justify in a diversity from St. Paul, as
they the word faith'. If the sense of one of the words
must be varied on either scheme, to make the apostle
James's doctrine consistent with the apostle Paul's ; and
if varying the sense of one term or the other be all that
stands in the way of their agreeing with either scheme ;
and if varying the sense ofthe latter be in itself as fair as
of the former, then the text lies as fair for one scheme as
the other, and can no more fairly be an objection against
our scheme than theirs. And if so, what becomes of all
this great objection from this passage in James ?
2. If there be no more difficulty in varying the sense of
one of these terms than another, from any thing in the
text itself, so as to make the words suit with either scheme,
then certainly that is to be chosen that is most agreeable
to the current of Scripture, and other places where the
same matter is more particularly and fully treated of ; and
therefore that we should understand the word justify in
this passage of James, in a sense in some respects diverse
from that in which St. Paul uses it. For by what has
been already said, it may appear, that there is no one doc
trine in the whole Bible more fully asserted, explained, and
urged, than the doctrine of justification by faith alone,
without any of our own righteousness.
3. There is a very fair interpretation of this passage of
St. James, no way inconsistent with this doctrine of jus
tification, which I have shown that other scriptures abund
antly teach, which the words themselves will as well
allow of, as that which the objectors put upon them, and
much better agrees with the context ; and that is, that
works are here spoken of as justifying as evidences. A
man may be said to be justified by that which clears him,
or vindicates him, or makes the goodness of his cause
manifest. When a person has a cause tried in a civil
court, and is justified or cleared, he may be said in differ
ent senses to be justified or cleared, by the goodness of
his cause, and by the goodness of the evidences of it. He
may be said to be cleared by what evidences his cause to
be good ; but not in the same sense as he is by that which
makes his cause to be good. That which renders his
cause good, is the proper ground of his justification ; it is
by that that he is himself a proper subject of it ; but evi

dences justify, only as they manifest that his cause is good
in fact, whether they are of such a nature as to have any
influence to render it so or no. It is by works that our
cause appears to be good ; but by faith our cause not only
appears to be good, but becomes good ; because thereby we
are united to Christ. That the word justify should be
sometimes understood to signify the former of these, as
well as the latter, is agreeable to the use of the word in
common speech ; as we say such an one stood up to justify
another, .. e. he endeavoured to show or manifest his
cause to be good. — And it is certain that the word is
sometimes used in this sense in Scripture, when speaking
of our being justified before God ; as where it is said, we
shall be justified by our words, Matt. xii. 37. " For by
thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou
shalt be condemned." It cannot be meant that men are
accepted before God on tlie account of their words ; for
God has told us nothing more plainly, than that it is the
heart that he looks at ; and that when he acts as judge
towards men, in order to justifying or condemning, he tries
the heart, Jer. xi. 20. " But, O Lord of hosts, that judg
est righteously, that triest the reins and the heart, let me
see thy vengeance on them ; for unto thee have I revealed
my cause." Psalm vii. 8, 9. " The Lord shall judge the
people : judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness,
and according to mine integrity that is in me. 0 let the
wickedness of the wicked come to an end ; but establish
the just; for the righteous God trieth the hearts and
reins." Ver. 11. 's' God judgeth the righteous." And
many other places to tlie like purpose. And therefore men
can be justified by their words, no otherwise than as evi
dences or manifestations of what is in the heart. And it
is thus that Christ speaks of the words in this very place,
as is evident by the context, ver. 34, 35. " Out of the
abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. A good
man out of the good treasure of the heart," &c. The
words, or sounds themselves, are neither parts of godli
ness nor evidences of godliness, but as signs of what is
inward. God himself, when he acts towards men as judge, in
order to a declarative judgment, makes use of evidences,

though i
to inform him what is right, yet it is to be considered, that
he will then sit in judgment, not as earthly judges do, to
find out what is right in a cause, but to declare and mani
fest what is right : and therefore that day is called by the
apostle, " the day of the revelation of the righteous judg
ment of God," Rom. ii. 5.
To be justified, is to be approved of and accepted : but
a man may be said to be approved and accepted in two
respects ; the one is to be approved really, and the other
to be approved and accepted declaratively. Justification
is twofold ; it is either the acceptance and approbation of
the judge itself, or the manifestation of that approbation,
by a sentence or judgment declared by the judge, either to
our own consciences, or to the world. If justification be
understood in the former sense, for the approbation itself,
that is only that by which we become fit to be approved :
but if it be understood in the latter sense, for the manifes
tation of this approbation, it is by whatever is a proper
evidence of that fitness. In the former, only faith is con
cerned ; because it is by that only in us that we become fit
to be accepted and approved : in the latter, whatever is an
evidence of our fitness, is alike concerned. • And therefore,
take justification in this sense, and then faith, and all other
graces and good works, have a common and equal concern
in it : for any other grace, or holy act, is equally an evi
dence of a qualification for acceptance or approbation, as
faith. To justify has always, in common speech, signified in
differently, either simply approbation, or testifying that
approbation ; sometimes one, and sometimes the other ;
because they are both the same, only as one is outwardly
what the other is inwardly. So we, and it may be all
nations, are wont to give the same name to two things,
when one is only declarative of the other. Thus some
times judging, intends only judging in our thoughts ; at
other times, testifying and declaring judgment. So such

Disc. I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

words as justify, condemn, accept, reject, prize, slight, ap
prove, renounce, are sometimes put for mental acts, at
other times, for an outward treatment. So in the sense in
which the apostle James seems to use tlie word justify for
manifestative justification, a man is justified not only by
faith, but also by works ; as a tree is manifested to be
good, not only by immediately examining the tree, but
also by the fruit* Prov. xx. 11. " Even a child is known
by his doing, whether his work be pure, and whether it be
right." The drift of the apostle does not require that he should
be understood in any other sense ; for all that he aims at,
as appears by a view of the context, is to prove that good
works are necessary. The error of those that he opposed
was this, Tnat good works were not necessary to salvation ;
that if they did but believe that there was "but one God,
and that Christ was the Son of God, and the like, and
were baptized, they were safe, let them live how they
would; which doctrine greatly tended to licentiousness.
The evincing the contrary of this is evidently the apostle's
scope. And that we should understand the apostle, of works
justifying as an evidence, and in a declarative judgment, is
what a due consideration ofthe context will naturally lead
us to. — For it is plain, that the apostle is here insisting on
works, in the quality of a necessary manifestation and
evidence of faith, or as what the truth of faith is made to
appear by : as ver. 18. " Show me thy faith without thy
works, and I will show thee my faith by my works." And
when he says, ver. 26. " As the body without the spirit is
dead, so faith without works is dead also." It is much
more rational and natural to understand him as speaking
of works, as the proper signs and evidences ofthe reality,
life, and goodness of faith. Not that the very works or
actions done are properly the life of faith, as the spirit in the
body ; but it is the active, working nature of faith, of which
the actions or works done are the signs, that is itself the life
and spirit of faith. The sign of a thing is often in scrip
ture language said to be that thing ; as it is in that com-
ft This distinction is just and scriptural as far as it goes, but it does not
reach the bottom ofthe difficulty, since believing in order to justification is
itself apart of obedience, and is expressly called " the obedience of faith."
Hence justification by faith, in comparison of what precedes it, is only
manifestative. The tree must be good, that is, the person must be vitally
united to Christ, as tlie adequate cause of believing, otherwise he would be
still carnal. The faith of a man spiritually dead or carnal, must needs be a
dead faith; but to suppose that such faith unites to Christ, has neither
Scripture nor any plausible reason to support it.
To him that is in Christ Jesus by a vital union, there is no condemna
tion ; and as there is no medium between condemnation and justification, he
who is in Christ is justified, or " accepted in the beloved" Saviour. That
union which Christ effects by his quickening Spirit, makes the tree good,
and believing with the heart, in order to receive the promised righteousness,
is tins fruit ot a good tree. Therefore the justification which is received as
tbe consequence of believing is only manifestative of union ; even as justi
fication by works, as asserted by St. James, is manifestative of a living
faith. As without works there is no sufficient evidence of union to Christ
on our part, so without faith in Christ as our complete righteousness, there
is no sufficient evidence of union with him on his part.
The true Christian's works, are " works of faith and labours of love,"
performed in obedience to God's authority, directed to his glory, and in
spired by gratitude for the blessings of his grace, and this is theirs, of all
such works, called " the work of God," even to believe on Jesus Christ in
whom alone is righteousness and life. By believing we receive the divine
testimony respecting a gratuitoi{$ righteousness, and renounce all hope of
obtaining justification by any other way.
The justifying righteousness is only one, but the appointed ways of be
coming interested in it are divers. One way is by the will of God our
Saviour, the other by the will of man the accountable agent, each in its
own order. The will of God gives the fundamental interest, and the will
of man the consequent and manifestative interest. In the first way, we are
interested in Christ's righteousness by one act continued, commencing
with, and permanent as, the primary vital union ; in the other way, it is by
repeated acts, commencing with the first act of faith in Christ, and re
peated with every succeeding reception of him.
Among persons who have made any, even the smallest, progress in chris
tian knowledge, there can be no dispute respecting the fundamental cause
of justification. AU such acknowledge, that the righteousness, or federal
perfection of Jesus Christ, is that for the sake of which any of the fallen
race of Adam can be justified. The difference cf sentiment arises from the
appointed method of obtaining an interest in this meritorious cause. For
want of consideration, we too nastily infer, that if the Scripture states one
appointed method, that it must be an exclusive appointment. — Hence one
pleads from Scripture, and especially St. James's epistle, that this appointed
method is by works, that is, evangelical obedience, of which faith is a lead
ing part Another pleads from Scripture, that it is by faith, not as an act of
moral obedience, but as a suitable bond of union, to the exclusion of all
works. And a third, from the same Scripture, pleads, that we are justified
by an eternal immanent act of God, and that faith only brings us to enjoy a
privilege which belongs to the elect from eternity.
Now each of these schemes overlooks the important truth, that the im
mediate ground of justification is the vital union between Christ and the
soul. Justification from eternity precedes vital union ; justification by
works denies tbe fact of a vital union beinp an adequate ground of a
justifying sentence ; and justification by faith alone, or believing in
Christ, to tbe exclusion of a prior vital union on the part of the Spirit,
confounds the work of man and the work of God. This last being the

651
parison by which the apostle illustrates it. Not the actions
themselves of a body, are properly the life or spirit ofthe
body ; but the active nature, of which those actions or
motions are the signs, is the life of the body. That which
makes men pronounce any thing to be alive, is, that they
observe it has an active operative nature ; which they ob
serve no otherwise than by the actions or motions which
are the signs of it. It is plainly the apostle's aim to prove,
that if faith hath not works, it is a sign that it is not a good
sort of faith ; which would not have been to his purpose,
if it was his design to show that it is not by faith alone,
though of a right sort, that we have acceptance with God,
but that we are accepted on the account of obedience as
well as faith. It is evident, by the apostle's reasoning,
that the necessity of works, is not from their having a
parallel concern in our salvation with faith ; but he speaks
of works only as related to faith, and expressive of it ;
which, after all, leaves faith the alone fundamental con
dition, without any thing else having a parallel concern
with it in this affair ; and other things conditions, only as
several expressions and evidences of it.
That the apostle speaks of works justifying only as a
sign, or evidence, and in God's declarative judgment, is
further confirmed by verse 21 . " Was not Abraham our
father justified by works, when he had offered up Isaac
his son upon the altar ?" Here the apostle seems plainly
to refer to that declarative judgment of God concerning
Abraham's sincerity, manifested to him, for the peace and
assurance of his own conscience, after his offering up Isaac
his son on the altar, Gen. xxii. 12. " Now I know that
thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son,
thine only son, from me." But here it is plain, and ex
pressed in the very words of justification or approbation,
that this work of Abraham offering up his son on the altar,
justified him as an evidence. When the apostle James
says, we are justified by works, he may and ought to be
understood in a sense agreeable to the instance he brings
for the proof of it : but justification in that instance ap
pears by the words of justification themselves, to be by
most difficult part of the subject, I beg leave to make a few observations
upon it.
1. The claims of God, in reference to justification, are twofold. In the
first instance, he claims from man a federal perfection ; and in the second
instance, he claims compliance with his method of bestowing an interest in
it The former claim may be answered by the surety, and in fact is an
swered by his act of a vital union on his part. For by this he gives an in
terest in himself to the soul he savingly adopts. Thus there is no con
demnation to you that are in Christ Jesus. But the latter claim can be
answered only by the believer himself, when he actually receives Christ as.
his righteousness, and so answers tbe divine requisition. Thus, he that
believeth in Christ is justified from all tilings. In the first instance, Christ
pleads his own righteousness in behalf of the adopted sinner ; in the last in
stance, the believer pleads the same righteousness in his own behalf.
2. The obligations of man, in reference to justification, are also of two
lands, in the first place, he stands obliged to be conformed to the law as a
covenant, which demands a sinless perfection ; and, in the second place, he
is obliged to conform to tbe law as a rule. Now whatever God enjoins as
a duty, is a part of this rule ; whether it be to hate sin, to love God, to be
lieve in Christ, or to observe whatever Christ hath commanded. Our obli
gation to be conformed to the law as a covenant, is discharged by Christ
only as our surety ; and our ability to discharge our obligation of being con
formed to the law as a rule is from him. We are obliged to believe on him
as our justifying righteousness, under pain of God's displeasure, but man
will ever continue in unbelief until Christ slays his enmity, and enables
him to believe. But to slay a sinner's enmity, to change his nature, or to
give him ability to believe, is the effect of a vital union; for as there is no
such ability without gracious influence, so there is no gracious influence
without union to the source of spiritual life. When thus enabled, man
exercises repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. Re
ceiving him by faith alone, as our righteousness and life, tbe law is obeyed
as the voice of God, requiring the obedience of faith.
3. The method of mercy, in reference to justification, includes the substi
tution of the Saviour, and our acceptance in him, without any works of
righteousness on our part. In tbis respect, not by works of righteousness
which we have done, whether faith, repentance, or any kind of obedience,
but according to his mercy he saveth us — provides a Saviour and gives us
a saving interest in him. Grace provides, and grace applies the remedy.
Mercy imputes to Jesus our sins, and imputes to us his righteousness. He
who knew no sin was by sovereign mercy made a sin-offering for us, that
we might be made the righteousness of God in him. Mercy laid the foun
dation, and placed us on it, that we might become living stones on him ;
and in consequence find him to be precious.
4. The rule of moral government, in reference to justification, is, that we
believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as the end of the law for righteousness.
For this end is tbe gospel proclaimed to all nations, even for " the obedi
ence of faith." This is the language of divine government, " He that be
lieveth shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be condemned."
The unbeliever is condemned already, because he rejects the counsel of
God, and neglects so great salvation. Mercy hath provided an adequate
and all-sufficient remedy, and government requires our closing with it as
the only ground of hope left us. An endeavour to set up our own obedi
ence instead of the righteousness of Christ, is rebellion against the authority
of God, and undervaluing his wisdom and grace. None deserve condemna
tion more than those who reject the only remedy. And even they who be
lieve have no ground of boasting. For we are saved by grace, and justified
by faith, and that is not of ourselves, but is the gift of God.— The influence
of works in justification our author has well explained. — W

652

F.IVE DISCOURSES.

works as an evidence. And where this instance of Abra
ham's obedience is elsewhere mentioned in the New Tes
tament, it is mentioned as a fruit and evidence of his faith.
Heb. xi. 17. "By faith Abraham, when he was tried,
offered up Isaac ; and he that had received the promises,
offered up his oniy-begotten son."
And in the other instance which the apostle mentions,
ver. 25. " Likewise also was not Rahab the harlot justi
fied by works, when she had received the messengers, and
had sent them out another way ?" The apostle refers to a
declarative judgment, in that particular testimony which
was given of God's approbation of her as a believer, in
directing Joshua to save her when the rest of Jericho was
destroyed, Josh. vi. 25. "And Joshua saved Rahab the
harlot alive, and her father's household, and all that she
had ; and she dwelleth in Israel even unto this day : be
cause she hid the messengers which Joshua sent to spy
out Jericho." This was accepted as an evidence and ex
pression of her faith. Heb. xi. 31. " By faith the harlot
Rahab perished not with them that believed not, when she
had received the spies with, peace." The apostle in say
ing, " Was not Rahab the harlot justified by works ?" by
the manner of his speaking has reference to something in
her history ; but we have no account in her history of any
other justification of her but this.
4. If, notwithstanding, any choose to take justification
in St. James's precisely as we do in Paul's epistles, for
God's acceptance or approbation itself, and not any ex
pression of that approbation ; what has been already said
concerning the manner in which acts of evangelical obe
dience are concerned in the affair of our justification, af
fords a very easy, clear, and full answer. For if we take
works as acts or expressions of faith, they are not excluded;
so a man is not justified by faith only, but also by works ;
i. e. he is not justified only by faith as a principle in the
heart, or in its first and more immanent acts, but also by
the effective acts of it in life, which are the expressions of
the life of faith, as the operations and actions of the body
are of the life of that ; agreeable to verse 26.
What has been said in answer to these objections, may
also, I hope, abundantly serve for an answer to another
objection, often made against this doctrine, viz. that it en
courages licentiousness in life. For, from what has been
said, we may see that the Scripture doctrine of justification
by faith alone, without any manner of goodness or excel
lency of ours, does in no wise diminish either the necessity
or benefit of a sincere evangelical universal obedience-
Man's salvation is not only indissolubly connected with
obedience, and damnation with the want of it, in those
who have opportunity for it, but depends upon it in
many respects. It is the way to salvation, and the neces
sary preparation for it ; eternal blessings are bestowed in
reward for it, and our justification in our own consciences
and at the day of judgment, depends on it, as the proper
evidence of our acceptable state ; and that even in accept
ing of us as entitled to life in our justification, God has
respect to this, as that on which the fitness of such an act
of justification depends : so that our salvation does as
truly depend upon it, as if we were justified for the moral
excellency of it. And besides all this, the degree of our
happiness to all eternity is suspended on, and determined
by, the degree of this. So that this gospel-scheme of jus
tification is as far from encouraging licentiousness, and
contains as much to encourage and excite to strict and
universal obedience, and the utmost possible eminencv of
holiness, as any scheme that can be devised, and indeed
unspeakably more.
I come now to the
V. And last thing proposed, which is, to consider the
" importance of this doctrine."
I know there are many who make as though this con
troversy was of no great importance ; that it is chiefly a
matter of nice speculation, depending on certain subtle dis
tinctions, which many that make use of them do not
understand themselves" ; and that the difference is not of
such consequence as to be worth being zealous about ;
and that more hurt is done by raising disputes about it
than good.
Indeed I am far from thinking that it is of absolute
necessity persons should understand, and be agreed upon,

all the distinctions needful particularly to explain and de
fend this doctrine against all cavils and objections. Yet
all Christians should strive after an increase of knowledge;
and none should content themselves without some clear
and distinct understanding in this point. But we should
believe in the general, according to the clear and abun
dant revelations of God's word, that it is none of our own
excellency, virtue, or righteousness, that is the ground of
our being received from a state of condemnation into a
state of acceptance in God's sight, but only Jesus Christ,
and his righteousness and worthiness, received by faith.
This I think to be of great importance, at least in applica
tion to ourselves ; and that for the following reasons.
1. The Scripture treats of this doctrine, as a doctrine of
very great importance. That there is a certain doctrine of
justification by faith, in opposition to justification by the
works of the law, which the apostle Paul insists upon as
of the greatest importance, none will deny ; because there
is nothing in the Bible more apparent. The apostle, un
der the infallible conduct of the Spirit of God, thought it
worth his most strenuous and zealous disputing about and
defending. He ' speaks of the contrary doctnne as fatal
and ruinous to the souls of men, in the latter end of the
9th chapter of Romans, and beginning of the 10th. He
speaks of it as subversive of the gospel of Christ, and
calls it another gospel, and says concerning it, if any one,
" though an angel from heaven, preach it, let him be ac
cursed;" Gal. i. 6 — 9. compared with the following part
of the epistle. Certainly we must allow the apostles to
be good judges of the importance and tendency of doc
trines ; at least the Holy Ghost in them. And doubtless
we are safe, and in no danger of harshness and censorious-
ness, if we only follow him, and keep close to his express
teachings, in what we believe and say of the hurtful and
pernicious tendency of any error. Why are we to blame,
for saying what the Bible has taught us to say, or for be
lieving what the Holy Ghost has taught us to that end
that we might believe it ?
2. The adverse scheme lays another foundation of man's
salvation than God hath laid. I do not now speak of that
ineffectual redemption that they suppose to be universal,
and what all mankind are equally the subjects of; but, I
say, it lays entirely another foundation of man's actual,
discriminating salvation, or that salvation wherein true
Christians differ from wicked men. We suppose the
foundation of this to be Christ's worthiness and righteous
ness : on the contrary, that scheme supposes it to be men's
own virtue ; even so, that this is the ground of a saving in
terest in Christ itself. It takes away Christ out of the
place of the bottom stone, and puts in men's own virtue in
the room of him : so that Christ himself in the affair of dis
tinguishing actual salvation, is laid upon this foundation.
And the foundation being so different, I leave it to every
one to judge whether the difference between the two
schemes consists only in punctilios of small consequence.
The foundation being contrary, makes the whole scheme
exceeding diverse and opposite ; the one is a gospel scheme,
the other a legal one.
3. It is in this doctrine that the most essential difference
lies between the covenant of grace and the .first covenant.
The adverse scheme of justification supposes that we are
justified by our works, in the very same sense wherein man
was to have been justified by his works under the first
covenant. By that covenant our first parents were not to
have had eternal life given them for anv proper merit in
their obedience ; because their perfect obedience was a debt
that they owed God. Nor was it to be bestowed for any
proportion between the dignity of their obedience, and the
value of the reward ; but only it was to be bestowed from
a regard to a moral fitness in the virtue of their obedience,
to the reward of God's favour ; and a title to eternal life
was to be given them, as a testimonv of God's pleasedness
with their works, or his regard to the inherent beauty of
then- virtue. And so it is the very same way that those in
the adverse scheme suppose that we are received into God's
special favour now, and to those saving benefits that are
the testimonies of it. I am sensible the divines of that side
entirely disclaim the popish doctrine of merit ; and are free
to speak of our utter unworthiness, and the great imperfec
tion of all our services. But after all, it is our virtue, im-

Disc. I.

JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH ALONE.

653

perfect as it is, that recommends men to God, by which
good men come to have a saving interest in Christ, and
God's favour, rather than others ; and these things are be
stowed in testimony of God's respect to their goodness.
So that whether they will allow the term merit or no, yet
they hold, that we are accepted by our own merit, in the
same sense, though not in the same degree, as under the
first covenant.
But the great and most distinguishing difference between
that covenant and the covenant of grace is, that by the
covenant of grace we are not thus justified by our own
works, but only by faith in Jesus Christ. It is on this
account chiefly that the new covenant deserves the name
of a covenant of grace, as is evident by Rom. iv. 16.
" Therefore it is of faith, that it might be by grace." And
chap. iii. 20, 24. " Therefore by the deeds ofthe law there
shall no flesh be justified in his sight ;"  " Being justi
fied freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in
Jesus Christ." And chap. xi. 6. " And if by grace, then
it is no more of works; otherwise grace is no more grace :
but if it be of works, then it is no more grace ; otherwise
work is no more work." Gal. v. 4. " Whosoever of yon
are justified by the law, ye are fallen from grace." And
therefore the apostle, in the same epistle to the Galatians,
speaking of the doctrine of justification by works as another
gospel, adds, " which is not another," chap. i. verse 6, 7. It
is no gospel at all ; it is law. It is no covenant of grace,
but of works ; not an evangelical, but a legal doctrine.
Certainly that doctrine wherein consists the greatest and
most essential difference between the covenant of grace and
the first covenant, must be a doctrine of great importance.
That doctrine of the gospel by which above all others it is
worthy of the name of gospel, is doubtless a very important
doctrine of the gospel.
4. This is the main thing for which fallen men stood in
need of divine revelation, to teach us how we who have
sinned may come to be again accepted of God ; or, which
is the same thing, how the sinner may be justified. Some
thing beyond the light of nature is necessary to salvation
chiefly on this account. Mere natural reason afforded no
means by which we could come to the knowledge of this,
it depending on the sovereign pleasure of the Being that
we had offended by sin. This seems to be the great drift
of that revelation which God has given, and of all those
mysteries it reveals, all those great doctrines that are pecu
liarly doctrines of revelation, and above the light of nature.
It seems to have been very much on this account, that it
was requisite the doctrine of the Trinity itself should be re
vealed to us ; that by a discovery of the concern of the
several divine persons in the great affair of our salvation, we
might the better understand and see how all our depend
ence in this affair is on God, and our sufficiency all in him,
and not in ourselves ; that he is all in all in this business,
agreeable to 1 Cor. i. 29—31. " That no flesh should glory
in his presence. But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who
of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and
sanctification, and redemption: that, according as it is
written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord." What
is the gospel, but only the glad tidings of a new way of
acceptance with God unto life, a way wherein sinners may
come to be free from the guilt of sin, and obtain a title to
eternal life 1 And if, when this way is revealed, it is re
jected, and another of man's devising be put in the room of
it, without doubt, it must be an error of great importance,
and the apostle might well say it was another gospel.
5. The contrary scheme of justification derogates much
from the honour of God and the Mediator. I have already
shown how it diminishes the glory of the Mediator, in
ascribing that to man's virtue and goodness, which belongs
alone to his worthiness and righteousness. By the apostle's
sense of the matter it renders Christ needless. Gal. v. 4.
" Christ is become of no effect to you, whosoever of you
are justified by the law." If that scheme of justification
be followed in its consequences, it utterly overthrows the
glory of all the great things that have been contrived, and
done, and suffered in the work of redemption. Gal. ii. 21 .
" If righteousness come by the law, Christ is dead in vain."
It has also been already shown how it diminishes the glory
of divine grace, (which is the attribute God hath especially
set himself to glorify in the work of redemption,) and so

that it greatly diminishes the obligation to gratitude in the
sinner that is saved. Yea, in the sense of the apostle, it
makes void the distinguishing grace of the gospel. Gal.
v. 4. " Whosoever of you are justified by the law, are
fallen from grace." It diminishes the glory of the grace of
God and the Redeemer, and proportionably magnifies man.
It makes the goodness and excellency of fallen man to be
something, which I have shown are nothing. I have also
already shown, that it is contrary to the truth of God in the
threatening of his holy law, to justify the sinner for his
virtue. And whether it were contrary to God's truth or no,
it is a scheme of things very unworthy of God. It sup
poses that God, when about to lift up a poor forlorn
malefactor condemned to eternal misery for sinning against
his Majesty, and to make him unspeakably and eternally
happy by bestowing his Son and himself upon him, as it
were, sets all this to eale, for the price of his virtue and ex
cellency. I know that those whom we oppose acknow
ledge, that the price is very disproportionate to the benefit
bestowed ; and say, that God's grace is wonderfully mani
fested in accepting so little virtue, and bestowing so glo
rious a reward for such imperfect righteousness. But see
ing we are such infinitely sinful and abominable creatures
in God's sight, and by our infinite guilt have brought our
selves into such wretched and deplorable circumstances — ¦
and all our righteousnesses are nothing, and ten thousand
times worse than nothing, if God looks upon them as they
are in themselves — is it not immensely more worthy of the
infinite majesty and glory of God, to deliver and make
happy such wretched vagabonds and captives, without any
money or price of theirs, or any manner of expectation of
excellency or virtue in them, in any wise to recommend
them ? Will it not betray a foolish exalting opinion of
ourselves, and a mean one of God, to have thought of
offering any thing of ours, to recommend us to the favour
of being brought from wallowing, like filthy swine, in the
mire of our sins, and from the enmity and misery of devils
in the lowest hell, to the state of God's dear children in the
everlasting arms of his love in heavenly glory ; or to
imagine that it is the constitution of God, that we should
bring our filthy rags, and offer them to him as the price of
this ?
6. The opposite scheme does most directly tend to lead
men to trust in their own righteousness for justification,
which is a thing fatal to the soul. This is what men are
of themselves exceeding prone to do, (and that though they
are never so much taught the contrary,) through the partial
and high thoughts they have of themselves, and their exceed
ing dulness of apprehending any such mystery as our being
accepted for the righteousness of another. But this scheme
directly teaches men to trust in their own righteousness
for justification; in that it teaches them that this is indeed
what they must be justified by, being the way of justifica
tion which God himself has appointed. So that if a man
had naturally no disposition to trust in his own righteous
ness, yet if he embraced this scheme, and acted consist
ently, it would lead him to it. But that trusting in our
own righteousness, is a thing fatal to the soul, is what the
Scripture plainly teaches us. . It tells us, that it will cause
that Christ shall profit us nothing, and be of no effect to
us, Gal. v. 2 — 4. For though the apostle speaks there
particularly of circumcision, yet it is not merely being
circumcised, but trusting in circumcision as a righteous
ness, that the apostle has respect to. He could not mean,
that merely being circumcised would render Christ of no
profit or effect to a person ; for we read that he himself,
for certain reasons, took Timothy and circumcised him,
Acts xvi. 3. And the same is evident by the context, and
by the rest of the epistle. And the apostle speaks of
trusting in their own righteousness as fatal to the Jews,
Rom. ix. 31, 32. " But Israel, which followed after the
law of righteousness, hath not attained to the law of right
eousness. Wherefore! Because they sought it not by
faith, but as it were by the works of the law; for they
stumbled at that stumbling-stone." Together with chap.
x. verse 3. " For they being ignorant of God's righteous
ness, and going about to establish their own righteousness,
have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of
God." And this is spoken of as fatal to the Pharisees, in
the parable ofthe Pharisee and the publican, which Christ

6.54

FIVE DISCOURSES.

spake to them in order to reprove them for trusting in
themselves that they were righteous. The design of the
parable is to show them, that the very publicans shall be
justified, rather than they ; as appears by the reflection
Christ makes upon it, Luke xviii. 14. " I tell you, this
man went down to his house justified rather than the
other ;" that is, this and not the other. The fatal tendency
of it might also be proved from its inconsistence with the
nature of justifying faith, and with the nature of that
humiliation that the Scripture often speaks of as absolute
ly necessary to salvation ; but these scriptures are so ex
press, that it is needless to bring any further arguments.
How far a wonderful and mysterious agency of God's
Spirit may so influence some men's hearts, that their prac
tice in this regard may be contrary to their own principles,
so that they shall not trust in their own righteousness,
though they profess that men are justified by their own
righteousness — or how far they may believe the doctrine
of justification by men's own righteousness in general,
and yet not believe it in a particular application of it to
themselves — or how far that error which they may have

been led into by education, or cunning sophistry of others,
may yet be indeed contrary to the prevailing disposition of
their hearts, and contrary to their practice — or how far
some may seem to maintain a doctrine contrary to this
gospel-doctrine of justification, that really do not, but only
express themselves differently from others; or seem to
oppose it through their misunderstanding of our expres
sions, or we of theirs, when indeed our real sentiments are
the same in the main — or may seem to differ more than
they do, by using terms that are without a precisely fixed
and determinate meaning — or to be wide in their senti
ments from this doctrine, for want of a distinct under
standing of it ; whose hearts, at the same time, entirely
agree with it, and if once it was clearly explained to their
understandings, would immediately close with it, and
embrace it : — how far these things may be, I will not de
termine ; but am fully persuaded that great allowances
are to be made on these and such like accounts, in innu
merable instances ; though it is manifest, from what has
been said, that the teaching and propagating contrary doc
trines and schemes, is of a pernicious and fatal tendency.

DISCOURSE II.

PRESSING INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

Luke xvi. 16.
The law and the prophets were, until John : since that time
the kingdom qf God is preached, and every man presseth
into it.
In these words two things may be observed : First,
Wherein the work and office of John the Baptist consisted,
viz. in preaching the kingdom of God, to prepare the way
for its introduction to succeed the law and the prophets.
By the law and the prophets, in the text, seems to be in
tended the ancient dispensation under the Old Testament,
which was received from Moses and the prophets. These
are said to be until John ; not that the revelations given
by them are out of use since that time, but that the state of
the church, founded and regulated under God by them, the
dispensation of which they were the ministers, and wherein
the church depended mainly on light received from them,
fully continued till John. He first began to introduce
the New-Testament dispensation, or gospel-state of the
church ; which, with its glorious, spiritual, and eternal
privileges and blessings, is often called the kingdom of
heaven, or kingdom of God. John the Baptist preached,
that the kingdom of God was at hand. " Repent," says
he, " for the kingdom of heaven is at hand :"— " Since
that time," says Christ, " the kingdom of God is preach
ed." John the Baptist first began to preach it ; and then,
after him, Christ and his disciples preached the same.
Thus Christ preached, Matt. iv. 17. " From that time
Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent, for the king
dom of heaven is at hand." So the disciples were directed
to preach, Matt. x. 7. " And, as ye go, preach, saying,
The kingdom of heaven is at hand." It was not John the
Baptist, but Christ, that fully brought in, and actually
established, this kingdom of God ; but he, as Christ's
forerunner to prepare his way before him, did the first
thing that was done towards introducing it. The old dis
pensation was abolished, and the new brought in by de
grees ; as the night gradually ceases, and gives place to
the increasing day which succeeds in its room. First the
day-star arises ; next follows the light of the sun itself, but
dimly reflected, in the dawning of the day ; but this light
increases, and shines more and more, and the stars that
served for light during the foregoing night, gradually go
out, and their light ceases, as being now needless, till at
lentrth the sun rises, and enlightens the world by his own
direct light, which increases as he ascends higher above

the horizon, till the day-star itself gradually disappears ;
agreeable to what John says of himself, John iii. 30. " He
must increase, but I must decrease." John was the fore
runner of Christ, and harbinger of the gospel-day ; much
as the morning-star is the forerunner of the sun. He had
the most honourable office of any of the prophets ; the
other prophets foretold Christ to come, he revealed him as
already come, and had the honour to be that servant who
should come immediately before him, and actually intro
duce him, and even to be the instrument concerned in his
solemn inauguration, as he was in baptizing him. He was
the greatest of the prophets that came before Christ, as the
morning-star is the brightest of all the stars, Matt. xi. 11.
He came to prepare men's hearts to receive that kingdom
of God which Christ was about more fully to reveal and erect.
Luke i. 1 7. " To make ready a people prepared for the Lord."
Secondly, We may observe wherein his success appear
ed, viz. in that since he began his ministry, every man
pressed into that kingdom of God which he preached. The
greatness of his success appeared in two things :
1 . In the generalness of it, with regard to the subject, or
the persons in whom the success appeared ; every man.
Here is a term of universality; but it is not to be taken as
universal with regard to individuals, but kinds ; as such
universal terms are often used in Scripture. When John
preached, there was an extraordinary pouring out of the
Spirit of God that attended his preaching. An uncommon
awakening, and concern for salvation, appeared on the
minds of all sorts of persons ; and even in the most un
likely persons, and those from whom such a thing might
least be expected ; as the Pharisees, who were exceeding
proud, and self-sufficient, and conceited of their own wis
dom and righteousness, and looked on themselves fit to be
teachers of others, and used to scorn to be taught ; and the
Sadducees, who were a kind of infidels, that denied anv
resurrection, angel, or spirit, or any future state. So that
John himself seems to be surprised to see them come to
him, under such concern for their salvation ; as in Matt.
in. 7. " But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sad
ducees come to his baptism, he said unto them, O genera
tion of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath
to come V And besides these, the publicans, who were
some of the most infamous sort of men, came to him, in
quiring what they should do to be saved. And the soldiers,
who were doubtless a very profane, loose, and profligate
sort of persons, made the same inquiry, Luke iii. 12, and
14. " Then came also publicans to be baptized, and said

Disc. II.

PRESSING INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

655

unto him, Master, what shall we do ? And the soldiers
likewise demanded of him, saying, And what shall we do ?"
2. His success appeared in the manner in which his
hearers sought the kingdom of God ; they pressed into it.
It is elsewhere set forth by their being violent for the king
dom of heaven, and taking it by force. Matt. xi. 12.
" From the days of John the Baptist until now, the king
dom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by
force." The doctrine that I observe from the words is this. —
" It concerns every one that would obtain the kingdom of
God, to be pressing into it."- — In discoursing on this sub
ject, I would,
First, Show what is that way of seeking salvation that
seems to be pointed forth in the expression of pressing into
the kingdom of God.
Secondly, Give the reasons why it concerns every one that
would obtain the kingdom of God, to seek it in this way. —
And then make application.
I. I would show what manner of seeking salvation
seems to be denoted by " pressing into the kingdom of
God." 1. This expression denotes strength qf desire. Men in
general who live under the light of the gospel, and are not
atheists, desire the kingdom of God ; that is, they desire
to go to heaven rather than to hell. Most of them indeed
are not much concerned about it ; but on the contrary, live a
secure and careless life. And some who are many degrees
above these, being under some degrees of the awakenings
of God's Spirit, yet are not pressing into the kingdom of
God. But they that may be said to be truly so, have strong
desires to get out of a natural condition, and to get an
interest in Christ. They have such a conviction of the
misery of their present state, and of the extreme necessity
of obtaining a better, that their minds are as it were pos
sessed with and wrapped up in concern about it. To ob
tain salvation is desired by them above all things in the
world. This concern is so great that it very much shuts out
other concerns. They used before to have the stream of
their desires after other things, or, it may be, had their
concern divided between this and them ; but when they
come to answer the expression in the text, oi pressing into
the kingdom qf God, this concern prevails above all others ;
it lays other things low, and does in a manner engross the
care ofthe mind. This seeking eternal life should not only
be one concern that our souls are taken up about with
other things ; but salvation should be sought as the one
thing needful, Luke x. 42. And as the one thing that is
desired, Psalm xxvii. 4.
2. Pressing into the kingdom of heaven denotes earnest
ness and firmness qf resolution. There should be strength
of resolution, accompanying strength of desire, as it was in
the psalmist, in the place just now referred to ; " one thing
have I desired, and that will I seek after." in order to a
thorough engagedness ofthe mind in this affair, both these
must meet together. Besides desires after salvation, there
should be an earnest resolution in persons to pursue this
good as much as lies in their power ; to do all that in the
use of their utmost strength they are able to do, in an at
tendance on every duty, and resisting and militating against
all manner of sin, and to continue in such a pursuit.
There are two things needful in a person, in order to
these strong resolutions ; there must be a sense of the
great importance and necessity of the mercy sought, and
there must also be a sense of opportunity to obtain it, or
the encouragement there is to seek it. The strength of re
solution depends on the sense which God gives to the
heart of these things. Persons without such a sense, may
seem to themselves to take up resolutions ; they may, as it
were, force a promise to themselves, and say within them
selves, " I will seek as long as I live, I will not give up
till I obtain," when they do but deceive themselves.
Their hearts are not in it ; neither do they indeed take up
any such resolution as they seem to themselves to do. It
is the resolution ofthe mouth morethan of the heart; their
hearts are not strongly bent to fulfil what their mouth says.
The firmness of resolution lies in the fulness ofthe disposi
tion of the heart to do what is resolved to be done. Those

who are pressing into the kingdom of God, have adisposition
of heart to do every thing that is required, and that lies in
their power to do, and to continue in it. They have not
only earnestness, but steadiness of resolution : they do not
seek with a wavering unsteady heart, by turns or fits, being
off and on ; but it is the constant bent ofthe soul, if possi
ble, to obtain the kingdom of God.
3. By pressing into the kingdom of God is signified
greatness qf endeavour. It is expressed in Eccles. ix. 10.
by doing what our hand finds to do with our might. And
this is the natural and necessary consequence of the two
forementioned things. Where there is strength of desire,
and firmness of resolution, there will be answerable en
deavours. Persons thus engaged in their hearts will " strive
to enter in at the strait gate," and will be violent for
heaven ; their practice will be agreeable to the counsel of
the wise man, in Prov. ii. at the beginning, " My son, if
thou wilt receive my words, and hide my commandments
with thee; so that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom,and
apply thine heart to understanding ; yea, if thou criest after
knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding; if
thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid
treasures; then shalt thou understand the fear ofthe Lord,
and find the knowledge of God." Here the earnestness of
desire and strength of resolution is signified by inclining
the ear to wisdom, and applying the heart to understand
ing ; and the greatness of endeavour is denoted by crying
after knowledge, and lifting up the voice for understand
ing ; seeking her as silver, and searching for her as for hid
treasures : such desires and resolutions, and such en
deavours, go together.
4. Pressing into the kingdom of God denotes an en
gagedness and earnestness, that is directly about that busi
ness of getting into the kingdom of God. Persons may
be in very great exercise and distress of mind, and that
about the condition of their souls ; their thoughts and cares
may be greatly engaged and taken up about things of a
spiritual nature, and yet not be pressing into the kingdom
of God, nor towards it. The exercise of their minds is
not directly about the work of seeking salvation, in a dili
gent attendance on the means that God hath appointed in
order to it, but something else that is beside their business ;
it may be about God's decrees and secret purposes, prying
into them, searching for signs whereby they may determine,
or at least conjecture, what they are before God makes
them known by their accomplishment. They distress their
minds with fears that they be not elected, or that they have
committed the unpardonable sin, or that their day is
past, and that God has given them up lo judicial and final
hardness, and never intends to show them mercy ; and
therefore, that it is in vain foi them to seek salvation. Or
they entangle themselves about the doctrine of original sin,
and other mysterious doctrines of religion that are above
their comprehension. Many persons that seem to be in
great distress about a future eternal state, get much into a
way of perplexing themselves with such things as these.
When it is so, let them be never so much concerned and
engaged in their minds, they cannot be said to be pressing
towards the kingdom of God ; because their exercise is
not in their work, but rather that which tends to hinder
them in their work. If they are violent, they are only
working violently to entangle themselves, and lay blocks
in their own way ; their pressure is not forwards. Instead
of getting along, they do but lose their time, and worse
than merely lose it ; instead of fighting with the giants
that stand in the way to keep them out of Canaan, they
spend away their time and strength in conflicting with
shadows that appear by the way-side.
Hence we are not to judge of the hopefulness of the way
that persons are in, or of the probability of their success
in seeking salvation, only by the greatness of the concern
and distress that they are in ; for many persons have need
less distresses that they had much better be without. It
is thus very often with persons overrun with the distemper
of melancholy ; whence the adversary of souls is wont to
take great advantage. But then are persons in the most
likely way to obtain the kingdom of heaven, when the
intent of their minds, and the engagedness of their spirits,
is about their proper work and business, and all the bent
of their souls is to attend on God's means, and to do what

656

FIVE DISCOURSES.

he commands and directs them to. The apostle tells us,
1 Cor. ix. 26. " that he did not fight as those that beat the
air." Our time is short enough ; we had not need to spend
it in that which is nothing to the purpose. There are real
difficulties and enemies enough for persons to encounter,
to employ all their strength ; they had not need to waste it
in fighting with phantoms.
5. By pressing into the kingdom cf God is denoted a
breaking through opposition and difficulties. There is in
the expression a plain intimation of difficulty. If there
were no opposition, but the way was all clear and open,
there wouid be no need of pressing to get along. They
therefore that are pressing into the kingdom of God, go on
with such engagedness, that they break through the diffi
culties that are in their way. They are so set for salvation,
that those things by which others are discouraged, and
stopped, and turned back, do not stop them, but they press
through them. Persons ought to be so resolved for heaven,
that if by any means they can obtain, they will obtain.
Whether those means be difficult or easy, cross or agree
able, if they are requisite means of salvation, they should
be complied with. When any thing is presented to he
done, the question should not be, Is it easy or hard ? is it
agreeable to my carnal inclinations or interest, or against
them ? But is it a required means of my obtaining an in
terest in Jesus Christ, and eternal salvation ? Thus the
apostle, Philip, iii. 11. " If by anv means I might attain
unlo the resurrection of the dead." He tells us there in
the context what difficulties he broke through, that he
suffered the loss of all things, and was willingly made con
formable even to Christ's death, though that was attended
with such extreme torment and ignominy.
He that is pressing into the kingdom of God, commonly
finds many things in the way that are against the grain ;
but he is not stopped by the cross that lies before him,
but takes it up, and carries it. Suppose there be some
thing incumbent on him to do, that is cross to his natural
temper, and irksome to him on that account; suppose
something that he cannot do without suffering in his estate,
or that he apprehends will look odd and strange in the eyes
of others, and expose him to ridicule and reproach, or any
thing that will offend a neighbour, and get his. ill-will, or
something that will he very cross to hisown carnal appetite —
he will press through such difficulties. Every thing that is
found to be a weight that hinders him in running this race
he casts from him, though it be a weight of gold or pearls ;
yea, if it be a right hand or foot that offends him, he will cut
them off, and will not stick at plucking out a right eye with
his own hands. These things are insuperable difficulties to
those who are not thoroughly engaged in seeking their sal
vation ; they are stumbling-blocks that they never get
over. But it is not so with him that presses into the king
dom of God. Those things (before he was thoroughly
roused from his security) about which he was wont to
have long parleyings and disputings with his own con
science — employing carnal reason to invent arguments and
pleas of excuse — he now sticks at no longer ; he has done
with this endless disputing and reasoning, and presses
violently through all difficulties. Let what will be in the
way, heaven is what he must and will obtain, not if he can
without difficulty, but if it be possible. He meets with
temptation : the devil is often whispering in his ear, setting
allurements before him, magnifying the difficulties of the
work he is engaged in, telling him that they are insuper
able, and that he can never conquer them, and trying all
ways in the world to discourage him ; but still he presses
forward. God has given and maintains such an earnest
spirit for heaven, that the devil cannot stop him in his
course ; he is not at leisure to lend an ear to what he has
to say. — I come now,
II. To show why the kingdom of heaven should be
sought in this manner. — It should be thus sought,
1. On account of the extreme necessity we are in of
getting into the kingdom of heaven. We are in a perish
ing necessity of it ; without it we are utterly and eternally
lost. Out of the kingdom of God is no safety ; there is
no otlier hiding-place ; this is the only city of refuge, in
which we can be secure from the avenger that pursues all
the ungodly. The vengeance of God will pursue, over
take, and eternally destroy, them that are not in this king

dom. All that are without this enclosure will be swallow.
ed up in an overflowing fiery deluge of wrath. They may
stand at the door and knock, and cry, Lord, Lord, open to
us, in vain ; they will be thrust back ; and God will have
no mercy on them ; they shall be eternally left of him.
His fearful vengeance will seize them ; the devils will lay
hold of them; and all evil will come upon them ; and
there will be none to pity or help ; their case will be utter
ly desperate, and infinitely doleful. It will be a gone case
with them ; all offers of mercy and expressions of divine
goodness will be finally withdrawn, and all hope will be
lost. God will have no kind of regard to their well-being ;
will take no care of them to save them from any enemy, or
any evil ; but himself will be their dreadful enemy, and
will execute wrath with fury, and will take vengeance in
an inexpressibly dreadful manner. Such as shall be in
this case will be lost and undone indeed ! They will be
sunk down into perdition, infinitely below all that we can
think. For who knows the power of God's anger? And
who knows the misery of that poor worm, on whom that
anger is executed without mercy '!
2. On account of the shortness and uncertainty qf the
opportunity for getting into this kingdom. When a few
days are past, all our opportunity for it will be gone. Our
day is limited. God has set our bounds, and we know
not where. While persons are out of this kingdom, they
are in danger every hour of being overtaken with wrath. We
know not how soon we shall get past that line, beyond
which there is no work, device, knowledge, nor wisdom ;
and therefore we should do what we have to do with our
might, Eccles. ix. 10.
3. On account of the difficulty of getting into the king
dom of God. There are innumerable difficulties in the
way ; such as few conquer : most of them that try have
not resolution, courage, earnestness, and constancy enough ;
but they fail, give up, and perish. The difficulties are too
many and too great for them that do not violently press
forward. They never get along, but stick by the way ; are
turned aside, or turned back, and ruined. Matt. vii. 14.
" Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth
unto life, and few there be that find it." Luke xiii. 24.
" Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for many, I say
unto vou, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able."
4. The possibility of obtaining. Though it be attended
with so much difficulty, yet it is not a thing impossible.
Acts viii. 22. " If perhaps the thought of thine heart may
be forgiven thee." 2 Tim. ii. 25. " If peradventure God
will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the
truth." However sinful a person is, and whatever his cir
cumstances are, there is, notwithstanding, a possibility of
his salvation. He himself is capable of it, and God is
able to accomplish it, and has mercy sufficient for it ; and
there is sufficient provision made through Christ, that God
may do it consistent with the honour of his majesty, justice,
and truth. So that there is no want either of sufficiency in
God, or capacity in the sinner, in order to this. The
greatest and vilest, most blind, dead, hard-hearted sinner
living, is a subject capable of saving light and grace.
Seeing therefore there is such necessity of obtaining the
kingdom of God, and so short a time, and such difficulty,
and yet such a possibility, it may well induce us to press
into it. Jonah iii. 8, 9.
5. It is meet that the kingdom of heaven should be
thus sought, because of the great excellency of it. We are
willing to seek earthly things, of trifling value, with great
diligence, and through much difficulty ; it therefore cer
tainly becomes us to seek that with great earnestness which
is of infinitely greater worth and excellence. And how
well may God expect and require it of us, that we should
seek it in such a manner, in order to our obtaining it !
6. Such a manner of seeking is needful to prepare per
sons for the kingdom of God. Such earnestness and
thoroughness of endeavours, is the ordinary means that
God makes use of to bring persons to an acquaintance
with themselves, to a sight of their own hearts, to a sense of
their own helplessness, and to a despair in their own strength
and righteousness. And such engagedness and constancy
in seeking the kingdom of heaven, prepare the soul to re
ceive it the more joyfully and thankfully, and the more
highly to prize and value it when obtained. So that it is

Disc. II.

PRESSING INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

657

in mercy to us, as well as for the glory of his own name,
that God has appointed such earnest seeking, to be the
way in which he will bestow the kingdom of heaven.
APPLICATION.
The use I would make of this doctrine, is of exhortation
to all Christless persons to press into the kingdom of God.
Some of you are inquiring what you shall do ? You seem
to desire to know what is the way wherein salvation is to
be sought, and how you may be likely to obtain it. You
have now heard the way that the holy word of God directs
to. Some are seeking, but it cannot" be said of them that
they are pressing into the kingdom of heaven. There are
many that in time past have sought salvation, but not in
this manner, and so they never obtained, but are now
gone to hell. Some of them sought it year after year, but
failed of it, ancr perished at last. They were overtaken
with divine wrath, and are now suffering the fearful misery
of damnation, and have no rest day nor night, having no
more opportunity to seek, but must suffer and be
miserable throughout the never-ending ages of eternity.
Be exhorted, therefore, not to seek salvation as they did,
but let the kingdom of heaven suffer violence from you.
Here I would first answer an objection or two, and then
proceed to give some directions how to press into the king
dom of God.
Object. 1 . Some may be ready to say, We cannot do
this of ourselves ; that strength of desire, and firmness of
resolution, that have been spoken of, are out of our reach.
If I endeavour to resolve and to seek with engagedness of
spirit, I find I fail ; my thoughts are presently off from the
business, and I feel myself dull, and my engagedness re
laxed, in spite of all I can do.
Ans. 1 . Though earnestness of mind be not immediate
ly in your power, yet the consideration of what has been
now said of the need of it, may be a means of stirring
you up to it. It is true, persons never will be thoroughly
engaged in this business, unless it be by God's influence ;
but God influences persons by means. Persons are not stir
red up to a thorough earnestness without some considera
tions that move them to it. And if persons can but be made
sensible of the necessity of salvation, and also duly con
sider the exceeding difficulty of it, and the greatness of the
opposition, and how short and uncertain the time is, but
yet are sensible that they have an opportunity, and that
there is a possibility of their obtaining, they will need no
more in order to their being thoroughly engaged and re
solved in this matter. If we see persons slack and un
resolved, and unsteady, it is because they do not enough
consider these things.
2. Though strong desires and resolutions of mind be not
in your power, yet painfulness of endeavours is in your
power. It is in your power to take pains in the use of
means, yea very great pains. You can be very painful and
diligent in watching your own heart, and striving against
sin. Though there is all manner of corruption in the heart
continually ready to work, yet you can very laboriously
watch and strive against these corruptions ; and it is in
your power, with great diligence to attend the matter of
your duty towards God and towards your neighbour. It
is in your power to attend all ordinances, and all public
and private duties of religion, and to do it with your
might. It would be a contradiction to suppose that a man
cannot do these things with all the might he has, though
he cannot do them with more might than he has. The
dulness and deadness of the heart, and slothfulness of dis
position, do not hinder men being able to take pains, though
it hinders their being willing. That is one thing wherein
your laboriousness may appear, even striving against your
own dulness. That men have a dead and sluggish heart,
does not argue that they be not able to take pains ; it is so
far from that, that it gives occasion for pains. It is one of
the difficulties in the way of duty, that persons have to
strive with, and that gives occasion for struggling and la
bour. If there were no difficulties attended seeking sal
vation, there would be no occasion for striving; a man
would have nothing to strive about. There is indeed a
great deal of difficulty attending all duties required of
vol. r. 2 v

those that would obtain heaven. It is an exceeding diffi
cult thing for them to keep their thoughts ; it is a difficult
thing seriously, or to any good purpose, to consider mat
ters of the greatest importance ; it is a difficult thing to
hear, or read, or pray attentively. But it does not argue
that a man cannot strive in these things because they are
difficult ; nay, he could not strive therein if there were
not difficulty in them. For what is there excepting diffi
culties that any can have to strive or struggle with in any
affair or business ? Earnestness of mind, and diligence of
endeavour, tend to promote each other. He that has a
heart earnestly engaged, will take pains ; and he that is
diligent and painful in all duty, probably will not be so
long before he finds the sensibleness of his heart and
earnestness of his spirit greatly increased.
Object. 2. Some may object, that if they are earnest, and
take a great deal of pains, they shall be in danger of trust
ing to what they do ; they are afraid of doing their duty
for fear of making a righteousness of it.
Ans. There is ordinarily no kind of seekers that trust so
much to what they do, as slack and dull seekers. Though
all seeking salvation, that have never been the subjects of
a thorough humiliation, do trust in their own righteous
ness ; yet some do it much more fully than others. Some
though" they trust in their own righteousness, yet are not
quiet in it. And those who are most disturbed in their
self-confidence, (and therefore in the likeliest way to be
wholly brought off from it,) are not such as go on in a
remiss way of seeking, but such as are most earnest and
thoroughly engaged ; partly because in such a way con
science is kept more sensible. A more awakened con
science will not rest so quietly in moral and religious
duties, as one that is less awakened. A dull seeker's con
science will be in a great measure satisfied and quieted
with his own works and performances ; but one that is
thoroughly awakened cannot be stilled or pacified with
such things as these. In this way persons gain much
more knowledge of themselves, and acquaintance with
their own hearts, than in a negligent, slight way of seeking ;
for they have a great deal more experience of themselves.
It is experience of ourselves, and finding what we are, that
God commonly makes use of as the means of bringing us
off from all dependence on ourselves. But men never get
acquaintance with themselves so fast, as in the most
earnest way of seeking. They that are in this way have
more to engage them to think of their sins, and strictly to
observe themselves, ard have much more to do with their
own hearts, than others. Such a one has much more ex
perience of his own weakness, than another that does not
put forth and try his strength ; and will therefore sooner
see himself dead in sin. Such a one, though he hath a
disposition continually to be flying to his own righteous
ness, yet finds rest in nothing ; he wanders about from
one thing to another, seeking something to ease his dis
quieted conscience ; he is driven from one refuge to ano
ther, goes from mountain to hill, seeking rest and finding
none ; and therefore will the sooner prove that there is no
rest to be founds nor trust to be put, in any creature
whatsoever. It is therefore quite a wrong notion that some entertain,
that the more they do, the more they shall depend on it.
Whereas the reverse is true ; the more they do, or the
more thorough they are in seeking, the less will they be
likely to rest in their doings, and the sooner will they see
the vanity of all that they do. So that persons will ex
ceedingly miss it, if ever they neglect to do any duty
either to God or man, whether it be any duty of religion,
justice, or charity, under a notion of its exposing them to
trust in their own righteousness. It is very true, that it is
a common thing for persons, when they earnestly seek sal
vation, to trust in the pains that they take : but yet com
monly those that go on in a more slight way, trust a great
deal more securely to their dull services, than he that is
pressing into the kingdom of God does to his earnestness.
Men's slackness in religion, and their trust in their own
righteousness, strengthen and establish one another. Their
trust in what they have done, and what they now do, set
tles them in a slothful rest and ease, and hinders their
being sensible of their need of rousing up themselves and
pressing forward. And on the other hand, their negli-

658

FIVE DISCOURSES.

gence tends so to benumb them, and keep them in such
ignorance of themselves, that the most miserable refuges
are stupidly rested in as sufficient. Therefore we see, that
when persons have been going on for a long time in such
a way, and God afterwards comes more thoroughly to
awaken them, and to stir them up to be in good earnest,
he shakes all their old foundations, and rouses them out
of their old resting-places ; so that they cannot quiet them
selves with those things that formerly kept them secure.
I would now proceed to give some directions how you
should press into the kingdom of God.
1. Be directed to sacrifice every thing to your soul's
eternal interest. Let seeking this ne so much your bent,
and what you are so resolved in, that you will make every
thing give place to it. Let nothing stand before your re
solution of seeking the kingdom of God. Whatever it be
that you used to look upon as a convenience, or comfort,
or ease, or thing desirable on any account, if it stands in
the way of this great concern, let it be dismissed without
hesitation ; and if.it be of that nature that it is likely al
ways to be a hinderance, then wholly have done with it,
and never entertain any expectation from it more. If in
time past you have, for the sake of worldly gain, involved
yourself in more care and business than you find to be
consistent with your being so thorough in the business of
religion as you ought to be, then get into some other way,
though you suffer in your worldly interest by it. Or if
you have heretofore! been conversant with company that
you have reason to think have been and will be a snare
to you, and a hinderance to this great design in any wise,
break off from their society, however it may expose you to
reproach from your old companions, or let what will be
the effect of it. Whatever it be that stands in the way of
your most advantageously seeking salvation — whether it
be some dear sinful pleasure, or strong carnal appetite, or
credit and honour, or the good-will of some persons whose
friendship you desire, and whose esteem and liking you
have highly valued — and though there be danger, if you
do as you ought, that you shall be looked upon by them
as odd and ridiculous, and become contemptible in their
eyes — or if it be your ease and indolence, and aversion to
continual labour; or your outward convenience in any
respect, whereby you might avoid difficulties of one kind
or other — let all go; offer up all such things together, as
it were, in one sacrifice, to the interest of your soul. Let
nothing stand in competition with this, but make every
thing to fall before it. If the flesh must be crossed, then
cross it, spare it not, crucify it, and do not be afraid of
being too cruel to it. Gal. v. 24. " They that are Christ's,
have crucified the flesh, with the affections and lusts."
Have no dependence on any worldly enjoyment whatso
ever. Let salvation be the one thing with you. This is
what is certainly required of you : and this is what many
stick at ; this giving up other things for salvation, is a
stumbling-block that few get over. While others pressed
into the kingdom of God at the preaching of John the
Baptist, Herod was pretty much stirred up by his preach
ing. It is said, he heard him, and observed him, and did
many things ; but when he came to tell him that he must
part with his beloved Herodias, here he stuck ; this lie
never would yield to, Mark vii. 18—20. The rich young
man was considerably concerned for salvation ; and ac
cordingly was a very strict liver in many things: but
when Christ came to direct him to go and sell all that he
had, and give to the poor, and come and follow him, he
could not find in his heart to comply with it, but went
away sorrowful. He had great possessions, and set his
heart much on his estate, and could not bear to part with
it. It may be, if Christ had directed him only to give
away a considerable part of his estate, he would have done
it ; yea, perhaps, if he had bid him part with half of it, he
would have complied with it : but when he directed him
to throw up all, he could not grapple with such a pro
posal. Herein the straitness of the gate very much con
sists ; and it is on this account that so many seek to enter
in, and are not able. There are many that have a great
mind to salvation, and spend great part of their time in
wishing that they had it, but they will not comply with
the necessary means.
2. Be directed to forget the things that are behind; that

is, not to keep thinking and making much of what you
have done, but let your mind be wholly intent on what you
have to do. In some sense you ought to look back ; you
should look back on your sins. Jer. ii. 23. " See thy way
in the valley, know what thou hast done." You should
look back on the wretchedness of your religious perform
ances, and consider how you have fallen short in them ;
how exceedingly polluted all your duties have been, and
how justly God might reject and loathe them, and you for
them. But you ought not to spend your time in looking
back, as many persons do, thinking how much they have
done for their 'salvation ; what great pains they have taken,
how that they have done what they can, and do not see
how they caii do more ; how long a time they have been
seeking, and how much more they have done than others,
and even than such and such who have obtained mercy.
They think with themselves how hardly God deals with
them, that he does not extend mercy to them, but turns a
deaf ear to their cries ; and hence discois-age themselves,
and complain of God. Do not thus spend your time in
looking on what is past, but look forward, and considei
what is before you ; consider what it is that you can do,
and what it is necessary that you should do, and what God
calls you still to do, in order" to your own salvation. The
apostle, in the 3d chapter to the Philippians, tells us what
things he did while a Jew, how much he had to boast of,
if any could boast ; but he tells us, that he forgot those
things, and all others that were behind, and reached forth
towards the things that were before, pressing forwards to
wards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in
Christ Jesus.
3. Labour to get your heart thoroughly disposed to go
on and hold out to the end. Many that seem to be earnest
have not a heart thus disposed. It is a common thing for
persons to appear greatly affected for a little while ; but all
is soon past away, and there is no more to be seen of it.
Labour therefore to obtain a thorough willingness and pre
paration of spirit, to continue seeking, in the use of your
utmost endeavours, without limitation ; and do not think
your whole life too long. And in order to this, be advised
to two things.
(1.) Remember that if ever God bestows mercy upon you,
he will use his sovereign pleasure about the time when.
He will bestow it on some in a little time, and on others
not till they have sought it long. If other persons are soon
enlightened and comforted, while you remain long in dark
ness, there is no other way but for you to wait. God will
act arbitrarily in this matter, and you cannot help it. You
must even be content to wait, in a wav of laborious and
earnest striving, till his time comes. If you refuse, you
will but undo yourself; and when you shall hereafter find
yourself undone, and see that your case is past remedy,
how will you condemn yourself for foregoing a great pro
bability of salvation, only because you had not patience to
hold out, and was not willing to be at the trouble of a per
severing labour ! And what will it avail before God or
your own conscience to say, that you could not bear to be
obliged to seek salvation so long, when God bestowed it
on others that sought it but for a very short time ? Though
God may have bestowed the testimonies of his favour on
others in a few days or hours after they have begun ear
nestly to seek it, how does that alter the case as to you, if
there proves to be a necessity of your laboriously seeking
many years before you obtain them ? Is salvation iess worth
taking _ great deal of pains for, because, through the
sovereign pleasure of God, others have obtained it with
comparatively little pains ? If there are two persons, the
one of which has obtained converting grace with compara
tive ease, and another that has obtained it after continuing
for manv years in the greatest and most earnest labours
after it, how little difference does it make at last, when once
salvation is obtained ! Put all the labour and pains, the
long-continued difficulties and stragglings, of the one in
the scale against salvation, and how little does it substract;
and put the ease with which the other has obtained in the
scale with salvation, and how little does it add ! What is
either added or substracted is lighter than vanity, and a
thing worthy of no consideration, when compared with that
infinite benefit that is obtained. Indeed if you were ten
thousand years, and all that time should strive and press

Disc. II.

PRESSING INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

659

f[

forward with as great earnestness as ever a- person did for
one day, all this would bear no proportion to the impor
tance of the benefit ; and it will doubtless appear little to
you, when once you come to he in actual possession of
eternal glory, and to see what that eternal misery is which
you have escaped. You must not think much of your
pains, and of the length of time; you must press towards
the kingdom of God, and do your utmost, and hold out to
the end, and learn to make no account of it when you have
done. You must undertake the business of seeking sal
vation upon these terms, and with no other expectations
than this, that if ever God bestows mercy it will be in his
own time ; and not only so, but also that when you have
done all, God will not hold himself obliged to show you
mercy at last.
(2.) Endeavour now thoroughly to weigh in your mind
the difficulty, and to count the cost of perseverance in seek
ing salvation. You that are now setting out in this busi
ness, (as there are many here who have very lately set
about it; — Praised be the name of God that he has stirred
you up to it !) be exhorted to attend this direction. Do
not undertake in this affair with any other thought but of
;iving yourself wholly to it for the remaining part of your
ife, and going through many and great difficulties in it.
Take heed that you do not engage secretly upon this con
dition, that you shall obtain in a little time, promising
yourself that it shall be within this present season of the
pouring out of God's Spirit, or with any other limitation of
time whatsoever. Many, when they begin, (seeming to set
out very earnestly,) do not expect that they shall need to
seek very long, and so do not prepare themselves for it.
And therefore, when they come to find it otherwise, and
meet with unexpected difficulty, they are found unguarded,
and easily overthrown. But let me advise you all who
are now seeking salvation, not to entertain any self-flatter
ing thoughts; hut weigh the utmost difficulties of perse
verance, and be provided for them, having your mind fixed
in it to go through them, let them be what they will.
Consider now beforehand, how tedious it would be, with
utmost earnestness and labour, to strive after salvation for
many years, in the mean time receiving no joyful or com
fortable evidence of your having obtained. Consider what
a great temptation to discouragement there' probably would
be in it ; how apt you would be to yield the case ; how
ready to think that it is in vain for you to seek any longer,
and that God never intends to show you mercy, in that he
has not yet done it ; how apt you would be to think with
yourself, "What an uncomfortable life do I live! how
much more unpleasantly do I spend my time than others
that do not perplex their minds about the things of another
world, but are at ease, and take the comfort of their worldly
enjoyments!" Consider what a temptation there would
probably be in it, if you saw others brought in that began
to seek the kingdom of heaven long after you, rejoicing in
a hope and sense of'God's favour, after but little pains and
a short time of awakening; while you, from day today,
and from year to year, seemed to labour in vain. Prepare
for such temptations now. Lay in beforehand for such
trials and difficulties, that you may not think any strange
thing has happened when they come.
I hope that those who have given attention to what has
been said, have by this time conceived, in some measure,
what is signified by the expression in the text, and after
what manner they ought to press into the kingdom of God.
Here is this to induce you to a compliance with what you
have been directed to ; if you sit still, you die ; if you go
backward, behold you shall surely die ; if you go forward,
you may iive. And though God has not bound himself
to any thing that a person does while destitute of faith,
and out of Christ, yet there is great probability, that in a
way of hearkening to this counsel you will live ; and that
by pressing onward, and persevering, you will at last, as it
were by violence, take the kingdom of heaven. Those of
you who have not only heard the directions given, but shall
through God's merciful assistance, practise according to
them, are those that probably will overcome. These we
may well hope at last to see standing with the Lamb on
mount Sion, 'clothed in white robes, with palms in their
hands ; when all your labour and toil will be abundantly
compensated, and you will not repent that you have taken
2 v 2

so much pains, and denied yourself so much, and waited
so long. This self-denial, 'this waiting, will then look
little, and vanish into nothing in your eyes, being all
swallowed up in the first minute's enjoyment of that glory
that you will then possess, and will uninterruptedly possess
and enjoy to all eternity.
4th direction. Improve the present season of the pouring
out of the Spirit of God on this town. Prudence in any
affair whatsoever consists verv much in minding and im
proving our opportunities. If you would have spiritual
prosperity, you must exercise prudence in the concerns of
your souls, as well as in outward concerns when you seek
outward prosperity. The prudent husbandman will observe
his opportunities ; he will improve seed-time and harvest ;
he will make his advantage of the showers and shines of
heaven. The prudent merchant will discern his oppor
tunities ; he will not be idle on a market-day ; he is careful
not to let slip his seasons for enriching himself : So will
those who prudently seek the fruits of righteousness, and
the merchandise of wisdom, improve their opportunities
for their eternal wealth and happiness.
God is pleased at this time, in a very remarkable
manner, to pour out his Spirit amongst us ; (glory be to
his name !) You that have a mind to obtain converting
grace, and to go to heaven when you die, now is your
season ! Now, if you have any sort of prudence for your
own salvation, and have not a mind to go to hell, improve
this season ! Now is the accepted time ! Now is the day of
salvation ! You that in time past have been called upon;
and have turned a deaf ear to God's voice, and long stood
out and resisted his commands and counsels, hear God's
voice to-day, while it is called to-day ! Do not harden
your hearts at such a day as this ! Now you have a special
and remarkable price put. into your hands to get wisdom,
if you have but a heart to improve it.
God hath his certain days or appointed seasons of
exercising both mercy and judgment. There are some
remarkable times of wrath, laid out by God for his awful
visitation, and the executions of his anger ; which times
are called days of vengeance, Prov. vi. 34. Wherein God
will visit for sin, Exod. xxxii. 34. And so, on the con
trary, God has laid out in his sovereign counsels seasons
of remarkable mercy, wherein he will manifest himself in
the exercises of his grace and loving-kindness, more than
at other times. Such times in Scripture are called by way
of eminency, accepted times, and days of salvation, and
also days of God's visitation ; because they are days
wherein God will visit in a way of mercy ; as Luke xix.
44. "And shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy
children within thee ; and they shall not leave in thee one
stone upon another ; because' thou knewest not the time
of thy visitation." It is such a time now in this town ; it
is with us a day of God's gracious visitation. It is indeed
a day of grace with us as long as we live in this world,-
in the enjoyment of the means of grace ; but such a time
as this is especially, and in a distinguishing manner, a
day of grace. There is a door of mercy always standing
open for sinners ; but at such a day as this, God opens an
extraordinary door.
We are directed to seek the Lord while he may be
found, and to call upon him while he is near, Isa. Iv. 6.
If you that are hitherto Christless, be not strangely be
sotted and infatuated, you will by all means improve such
an opportunity as this to get 'heaven, when heaven is
brought so near, when the fountain is opened in the midst
of us in so extraordinary a manner. Now is the time to
obtain a supply of the "necessities of your poor perishing
souls ! This is the day for sinners that have a mind to he
converted before they die, when God is dealing forth so
liberally and bountifully amongst us ; when conversion
and salvation work is going on amongst us from sabbath
to sabbath, and many are pressing into the kingdom of
God ! Now do not stay behind, but press in amongst the
rest ! Others have been stirred up to be in good earnest,
and have taken heaven by violence ; be entreated to follow
their example, if you would have a part of the inheritance
with them, and would not be left at the great day, when
they are taken !
How should it move you to consider that you have this
opportunity now in your hands ! You are in the actual

060

FIVE DISCOURSES.

possession of it ! If it were past, it would not be in your
power to recover it, or in the power of any creature to
bring it back for you ; but it is not past ; it is now, at
this dav. Now is the accepted time, even while it is called
to-day 1 Will you sit still at such a time ? Will you sleep
in such a harvest? Will you deal with a slack hand, and
stay behind out of mere sloth, or love to some lust, or
lothness to grapple with some small difficulty, or to put
yourself a little out of your way, when so many are flow
ing to the goodness of the Lord ? You are behind still ;
and so you will be in danger of being left behind, when
the whole number is completed that are to enter in, if you
do not earnestly bestir yourself! To be left behind at the
close of such a season as this, will be awful — next to being
left behind on that day when God's saints shall mount up
as with wings to meet the Lord in the air — and will be
what will appear very threatening of it.
God is now calling you in an extraordinary manner :
and it is agreeable to the will and word of Christ, that I
should now, in his name, call you, as one set over you,
and sent to you to that end ; so it is his will that you
should hearken to what I say, as his voice. I therefore
beseech vou in Christ's stead now to press into the kingdom
of God ) Whoever you are, whether young or old, small
or great ; if you are a great sinner, if you have been a
backslider, if you have quenched the Spirit, be who you
will, do not stand making objections, but arise, apply
yourself to your work ! Do what you have to do with
your might. Christ is calling you before, and holding
forth his grace, and everlasting benefits, and wrath is pur
suing you behind ; wherefore fly for your life, and look
not behind you !
But here I would particularly direct myself to several
sorts of persons.
I. To those sinners who are in a measure awakened,
and are concerned for their salvation. You have reason
to be glad that you have such an opportunity, and to prize
it above gold. To induce you to prize and improve it,
consider several things.
1 . God has doubtless a design now to deal forth saving
blessings to a number. God has done it to some already,
and it is not probable that he has yet finished his work
amongst us : we may well hope still to see others brought
out of darkness into marvellous light. And therefore,
2. God comes this day, and knocks at many persons'
doors, and at your door among the rest. God seems to be
come in a very unusual manner amongst us, upon a gra
cious and merciful design ; a design of saving a number
of poor miserable souls out of a lost and perishing con
dition, and of bringing them into a happy state and eternal
glory 1 This is offered to you, not only as it has always
been in the word and ordinances, but by the particular
influences of the Spirit of Christ awakening you ! This
special offer is made to many amongst us ; and you are
not passed over. Christ has not forgot you ; but has come
to your door ; and there as it were stands waiting for you
to open to him. If you have wisdom and discretion to
discern your own advantage, you will know that now is
your opportunity.
3. How much more easily converting grace is obtained
at such a time, than at other times ! The work is equally
easy with God at all times ; but there is far less diffi
culty in the way as to men at such a time, than at other
times. It is, as I said before, a day of God's gracious
visitation ; a day that he has as it were set apart for the
more liberally and bountifully dispensing of his grace ;
a day wherein God's hand is "opened wide. Experience
shows it. God seems to be more ready to help, to give
proper convictions, to help against temptations, and let
in divine light. He seems to carry on his work with a
more glorious discovery of his power, and Satan is more
chained up than at other times. Those difficulties and
temptations that persons before stuck at, from year to year,
thev are soon helped over. The work of God is carried on
with greater speed and swiftness, and there are often in
stances of sudden conversion at such a time. So it was in
the apostles' days, when there was a time of the most ex
traordinary pouring out of tlie Spirit that ever was. How
quick and suddenwere conversions in those days ! Such
instances as that of the jailer abounded then, in fulfilment

of that prophecy, Isa. lxvi. 7, 8. " Before she travailed, she
brought forth : before her pain came, she was delivered ot
a man-child. Who hath heard such a thing ? Who hath
seen such things? For as soon as Zion travailed, she
brought forth her children." So it is in some degree,
whenever there is an extraordinary pouring out of the
Spirit of God ; more or less so, in proportion to the great
ness of that effusion. There is seldom such quick work
made of it at other times. Persons are not so soon de
livered from their various temptations and entanglements ;
but are much longer wandering in a wilderness, and groping
in darkness. And yet,
4. There are probably some here present that are now
concerned about their salvation, that never will obtain. It
is not to be supposed that all that arc now moved and
awakened, will ever be savingly converted. Doubtless
there are many now seeking that will not be able to enter.
when has it been so in times past, when there has been
times of great outpourings of God's Spirit, but that many
who for a while have inquired with others, what they should
do to be saved, have failed, and afterwards grown hard
and secure ? All of you that are now awakened, have a
mind to obtain salvation, and probably hope to get a title
to heaven, in the time of this present moving of God's
Spirit : but yet, (though it be awful to be spoken, and
awful to be thought,) we have no reason to think any
other, than that some of you will burn in hell to all eter
nity. You all are afraid of hell, and seem at present dis
posed to take pains to be delivered from it ; and yet it
would be unreasonable to think any other, than that some
of you will have yourportion in the lake that burns with
fire and brimstone. Though there are so many that seem
to obtain so easily, having been but a little while under
convictions, yet, for all that, some never will obtain.
Some will soon iose the sense of things they now have ;
though their awakenings seem to be very considerable for
the present, they will not hold ; they have not hearts dis
posed to hold on through very many difficulties. Some
that have set out for heaven, and hope as much as others
to obtain, are indeed but slighty and slack, even now, in
the midst of such a time as this. And others, who for the
present seem to be more in earnest, will probably, before
long, decline and fail, and gradually return to be as they
were before. The convictions of some seem to be great,
while that which is the occasion of their convictions is
new ; which, when that begins to grow old, will gradually
decay and wear off. Thus, it may be, the occasion of your
awakening has been the hearing ofthe conversion of some
person, or seeing so extraordinary a dispensation of
Providence as this in which God now appears amongst us ;
but by and by the newness and freshness of these things
will be gone, and so will not affect your mind as now they
do ; and it may be your convictions will go away with it.
Though this be a time wherein God doth more liberally
bestow his grace, and so a time of greater advantage for
obtaining it ; yet there seems to be, upon some accounts,
greater danger of backsliding, than when persons are
awakened at other times. For commonly such extraordi
nary times do not last long ; and then when they cease,
there are multitudes that lose their convictions as it were
together. We speak of it as a happy thing, that God is pleased to
cause such a time amongst us, and so it is indeed : but
there are some to whom it will be no benefit ; it will be an
occasion of their greater misery ; they will wish they had
never seen this time ; it will tie more tolerable for those
that never saw it, or any thing like it, in the day of judg
ment, than for them. It is an awful consideration, that
there are probably those here, whom the great Judge will
hereafter call to a strict account about this very thing, why
they no better improved this opportunity, when he set
open the fountain of his grace, and so loudly called upon
them, and came and strove with them in particular by the
awakening influences of his Spirit ; and they will have no
good account to give to the J\idge, but their mouths will
be stopped, and they will stand speechless before him
You had need therefore to be earnest, and very resolved
in this affair, that you mav not be one of those who shall
thus fail, that you may so fight, as not uncertainly and so
run, as that you may win the prize.

Disc. II.

PRESSING INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

661

5. Consider in what sad circumstances times of extra
ordinary effusion of God's Spirit commonly leave persons,
when they leave them unconverted. They find them in a
doleful, because in a natural, condition ;" but commonly
leave them in a much more doleful condition. They are
left dreadfully hardened, and with a great increase of guilt,
and their souls under a more strong dominion and pos
session of Satan. And frequently seasons of extraordinary
advantage for salvation, when they pass over persons, and
they do not improve them, nor receive any good in them,
seal their damnation. As such seasons leave them, God
for ever leaves them, and gives them up to judicial hard
ness. Luke xix. 41, 42. " And when he was come near,
he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst
known, even thou, the things which belong unto thy
peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes."
6. Consider, that it is very uncertain whether you will
ever see such another time as this. If there shoul- be such
another time, it is very uncertain whether you will live to
see it. Many that are now concerned for their salvation
amongst us, will probably be in their graves, and it may
be in hell, before that time; and if you should miss this
opportunity, it may be so with you. And what good will
that do you, to have the Spirit of God poured out upon
earth, in the place where you once lived, while you are
tormented in hell ? What will it avail you, that others
are crying, What shall I do to be saved ? while you are
shut up for ever in the bottomless pit, and are wailing and
gnashing your teeth in everlasting burnings ?
Wherefore improve this opportunity, while God is pour
ing out his Spirit, and you are on earth, and while you
dwell in that place where the Spirit of God is thus poured
out, and you yourself have the awakening influences of it,
that you may never wail and gnash your teeth in hell, but
may sing in heaven for ever, with others that are redeemed
from amongst men, and redeemed amongst us.
7. If you should se,e another such time, it will be under
far greater disadvantages than now. You will probably
then be much older, and will have more hardened your
heart ; and so will be under less probability of receiving
good. Some persons are so hardened in sin, and so left of
God, that they can live through such a time as this, and
not be much awakened or affected by it ; they can stand
their ground, and be but little moved. And so it may be
with you, by another such time, if there should be another
amongst us, and you should live to see it. The case in
all probability will be greatly altered with you by that
time. If you should continue Christless and graceless till
then, you will be much further from the kingdom of God,
and much deeper involved in snares and misery ; and the
devil will probably have a vastly greater advantage against
you, to tempt and confound you.
8. We do not know but that God is now gathering in
his elect, before some great and sore judgment. It has
been God's manner before he casts off a visible people, or
brings some great and destroying judgments upon them,
first to gather in his elect, that they may be secure. So it
was before the casting off the Jews from being God's
people. There was first a very remarkable pouring out of
the Spirit, and gathering in of the elect, by the preaching
of the apostles and evangelists, as we read in the begin
ning of the Acts : but after this harvest and its gleanings
were over, the rest were blinded, and hardened ; the gospel
had little success amongst them, and the nation was given
up, and cast off from being God's people, and their city
and land was destroyed by the Romans in a terrible man
ner ; and they have been cast off by God now for a great
many ages, and still remain a hardened and rejected
people. So we read in the beginning of the 7th chapter
of the Revelations, that God, when about to bring destroy
ing judgments on the earth, first sealed his servants in the
forehead. He set his seal upon the hearts of the elect,
five them the saving influences and indwelling of his
pirit, by which they were sealed to the day of redemp
tion. Rev. vii. 1 — 3. " And after these things, I saw four
angels standing on the four corners of the earth, holding
the four winds of the earth, that the wind should not blow
on the earth, nor on the sea, nor on any tree. And I saw
* Joseph Clark's wife, a young woman lately married, that died sudden-

another angel ascending from the east, having the seal of
the living God : and he cried with a loud voice to the four
angels, to whom it was given to hurt the earth and the sea,
saying, Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees,
till we have sealed the servants of our God in their fore
heads." And this may be the case now, that God is about, in a
great measure, to forsake this land, and give up this people,
and to bring most awful and overwhelming judgments
upon it, and that he is now gathering in his elect, to secure
them from the calamity. The state of the nation, and of
this land, never looked so threatening of such a thing as at
this day. The present aspect of things exceedingly
threatens vital religion, and even those truths that are
especially the foundation of it, out of this land. If it
should be so, how awful will the case be with those that
shall be left, and not brought in, while God continues the
influences of his Spirit, to gather in those that are to be re
deemed from amongst us !
9. If you neglect the present opportunity, and be finally
unbelieving, those that are converted in this time of the
pouring out of God's Spirit will rise up in judgment against
you. Your neighbours, your relations, acquaintance, or
companions that are convened, will that day appear against
you. They will not only be taken while you are left,
mounting up with joy to meet the Lord in the air — at his
right hand with glorious saints and angels, while you are at
the left with devils — but how they will rise up in judgment
against you. However friendly you have been together,
and have taken pleasure in one another's company, and
have often familiarly" conversed together, they will then
surely appear against you. They will rise up as witnesses,
and will declare what a precious opportunity you had, and
did not improve ; how you continued unbelieving, and re
jected the offers of a Saviour, when those offers were made
in so extraordinary a manner, and when so many others
were prevailed upon to accept of Christ ; how you was
negligent and slack, and did not know the things that be
longed to your peace, in that your day. And not only so,
but they shall be your judges, as assessors with the great
Judge; and as such will appear against you ; they will be
with the Judge in passing sentence upon you. 1 Cor. vi.
2. " Know ye not that the saints shall judge the world V
Christ will admit them to the honour of judging the world
with him : " They shall sit with him in his throne," Rev.
iii. 21. They shall sit with Christ in his throne of govern
ment, and they shall sit with him in his throne of judg
ment, and shall be judges with him when you are judged,
and as such shall condemn you.
10. And lastly, You do not know that you shall live
through the present time of the pouring out of God's
Spirit. You may be taken away in the midst of it, or you
may be taken away in the beginning of it; as God in his
providence is putting you in mind, by the late instance of
death in a young person in the town.* God has of late
been very awful in his dealings with us, in the repeated
deaths of young persons amongst us. This should stir
every one up to be in the more haste to press into the king
dom of God, that so you may be safe whenever death
comes. This is a blessed season and opportunity ; but you
do not know how little of it you may have. You may
have much less of it than others ; may by death be sudden
ly snatched away from all advantages that are here enjoyed
for the good of souls. Therefore make haste, and escape
for thy life. One moment's delay is dangerous ; for wrath
is pursuing, and divine vengeance hanging over every un
covered person.
Let these considerations move every one to be improving
this opportunity, that while others receive saving good, and
are made heirs of eternal glory, you may not be left behind,
in the same miserable doleful circumstances in which you
came into the world, a poor captive to sin and Satan, a "lost
sheep, a perishing, undone creature, sinking down into
everlasting perdition ; that you may not be one of them
spoken of, Jer. xvii. 6. " That shall be like the heath in
the desert, and shall not see when good comes." If you
do not improve this opportunity, remember I have told
you, you will hereafter lament it ; and if you do not
ly the week before this was delivered.

662

FIVE DISCOURSES.

lament it in this world, then I will leave it with you to
remember it throughout a miserable eternity.
II. I would address myself to such as yet remain un-
awakened. It is an awful thing that there should be any
one person remaining secure amongst us at such a time
as this ; but yet it is to be feared that there are some of
this sort. I "would here » little expostulate with such
persons. 1. When do you expect that it will be more likely that
you should be awakened and wrought upon than now ;
You are in a Christless condition ; and yet without doubt
intend to go to heaven ; and therefore intend to be con
verted some time before you die ; but this is not to be ex
pected till you are first awakened, and deeply concerned
about the welfare of your soul, and brought earnestly to
seek God's converting grace. And when do you intend
that this shall be ? How do you lay things out in your
own mind, or what projection have you about this matter ?
Is it ever so likely that a person will be awakened, as at
such a time as this ? How do we see many, who before
were secure, now roused out of their sleep, and crying,
What shall I do to be saved ? But you are yet secure !
Do you flatter yourself that it will be more likely you
should be awakened when it is a dull and dead time '! Do
you lay matters out thus in your own mind, that though
you are senseless when others are generally awakened, that
yet you shall be awakened when others are generally sense
less ? Or do you hope to see another such time of the
pouring out of God's Spirit hereafter ? And do you think
it will be more likely that you should be wrought upon
then, than now ? And why do you" think so ? Is it be
cause then you shall be so much older than you are now,
and so that your heart will be grown softer and more tender
with age ? or because you will then have stood out so much
longer against the calls of the gospel, and all means of
grace ? Do you think it more likely that God will give
you the needed influences of his Spirit then, than now, be
cause then you will have provoked him so much more, and
your sin and guilt will be so much greater '! And do you
think it will be any benefit to you, to stand it out through
the present season of grace, as proof against the extraordi
nary means of awakening there are ? Do you think that
this will be a good preparation for a saving work of the
Spirit hereafter ?
2. What means do you expect to be awakened by ? As
to the awakening awful things ofthe word of God, you have
had those set before you times without number, in the most
moving manner that the dispensers of the word have been
capable of. As to particular solemn warnings, directed to
those that are in your circumstances, you have had them
frequently, and have them now from time to time. Do you
expect to be awakened by awful providences ? Those also
you have lately had, of the most awakening nature, one
after another. Do you expect to be moved by the deaths
of others ? We have lately had repeated instances of these.
There have been deaths of old and young : the year has
been remarkable for the deaths of young persons in the
bloom of life ; and some of them very sudden deaths.
Will the conversion of others move you ? There is indeed
scarce any thing that is found to have so great a tendency
to stir persons up as this : and this you have been tried
with of late in frequent instances ; but are hitherto proof
against it. Will a general pouring out of the Spirit, and
seeing a concern about salvation amongst all sorts of people,
do it ? This means you now have, but without effect.
Yea, you have all these things together ; you have the
solemn warnings of God's word, and awful instances of
death, and the conversion of others, and see a general con
cern about salvation : but all together do not move you to
any great concern about your own precious, immortal, and
miserable soul. Therefore consider by what means it is
that you expect ever to be awakened.
You have heard that it is probable some who are now
awakened, will never obtain salvation ; how dark then
does it look upon you that remain stupidly unawakened !
Those who are not moved at such a time as this, come to
adult age, have reason to fear whether they are not given
up to judicial hardness. I do not say they have reason to
conclude it, but they have reason to fear it. How dark
doth it look upon you, that God comes and knocks at so

many persons' doors, and misses yours ! that God is
giving the strivings of his Spirit so generally amongst us,
while vou are left senseless !
3. Do you expect to obtain salvation without ever
seeking it ? If you are sensible that there is a necessitv
of your seeking in order to obtaining, and ever intend
to seek, one would think you could not avoid it at such a
time as this. Inquire therefore, whether you intend to go
to heaven, living all your days a secure, negligent, careless
life.  Or,
4 . Do you think you can bear the damnation of hell ?
Do you imagine that you can tolerably endure the devour
ing fire, and everlasting burnings ? Do you hope that you
shall be able to grapple with the vengeance of God Al
mighty, when he girds himself with strength, and clothes
himself with wrath ? Do you think to strengthen yourself
against God, and to be able to make your part good with
him ? 1 Cor. x. 22. " Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy ?
are we stronger than he ?" Do you flatter yourself that
you shall find out ways for your ease and support, and to
make it out tolerably well, to bear up your spirit in those
everlasting burnings that are prepared for the devil and his
angels? Ezek. xxii. 14. "Can thine heart endure, or
can thine hands be strong, in the days that I shall deal
with thee ?" — It is a difficult thing to conceive what such
Christless persons think, that are unconcerned at such a
time. III. I would direct myself to them who are grown
considerably into years, and are yet in a natural condition.
I would now take occasion earnestly to exhort you to im
prove this extraordinary opportunity, and press into the
kingdom of God. You have lost many advantages that
once you had, and now have not the same advantages
that others have. The case is very different with you
from what it is with many of your neighbours. You,
above all, had need to improve such an opportunity. Now
is the time for you to bestir yourself, and take the king
dom of heaven !— Consider,
1 . Now there seems to be a door opened for old sin
ners. Now God is dealing forth freely to all sorts : his
hand is opened wide, and he does not pass by old ones so
much as he used to do. You are not under such advan
tages as others who are younger ; but yet, so wonderfully
has God ordered it, that now you are not destitute of great
advantage. Though old in sin, God has put a new and
extraordinary advantage into vour hands. O ! improve
this price you have to get wisdom ! You that have been
long seeking to enter in at the strait gate and yet remain
without, now take your opportunity and press in ! You
that have been long in the wilderness, fighting with vari
ous temptations, labouring under discouragements, ready
to give up the case, and have been often tempted to de
spair, now, behold the door that God opens for you ! Do
not give way to discouragements now ; this is not a time
for it. Do not spend time in thinking, that you have
done what you can already, and that you are not elected,
and in giving way to other perplexing, weakening, dis
heartening temptations. Do not waste away this precious
opportunity in such a manner. You have no time to
spare for such things as these; God calls you now to
something else. Improve this time in seeking and striving
for salvation, and not in that which tends to hinder it. —
It is no time now for you to stand talking with the devil ;
but hearken to God, and apply yourself to that which he
does now so loudly call you to.
Some of you have often lamented the loss of past oppor
tunities, particularly, the loss of the time of youth, and
have been wishing that you had so good an opportunity
again ; and have been ready to say, " O ! if I was young
again, how would I improve such an advantage !" That
opportunity which you have had in time past is irrecover
able ; you can never have it again : but God can give
you other advantages of another sort, that are very great,
and he is so doing at this day. He is now putting a new
opportunity into your hands ; though not of the same kind
with that which you once had, and have lost, yet in some
respects as great of another kind. If you lament your
folly in neglecting and losing past opportunities, then do
not be guilty of the folly of neglecting the opportunity
which God now gives you. This opportunity you could

Disc II.

PRESSING INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

663

not have purchased, if you would have given all that you
had in the world for it. But God is putting it into your
hands himself, of his own free and sovereign mercy, with
out your purchasing it. Therefore when you have it, do
not neglect it.
2. It is a great deal more likely with respect to such
persons than others, that this is their last time. There
will be a last time of special offer of salvation to impeni
tent sinners. — " God's Spirit shall not always strive with
man," Gen.vi. 3. God sometimes continues long knocking
at the doors of wicked men's hearts ; but there are the last
knocks, and the last calls that ever they shall have. And
sometimes God's last calls are the loudest ; and then if
sinners do not hearken, he finally leaves them. How
long has God been knocking at many of your doors that
are old in sin ! It is a great deal more likely that these
are his last knocks. You have resisted God's Spirit in
times past, and have hardened vour heart once and again ;
but God will not be thus dealt with always. There is
danger, that if now, after so long a time, you will not
hearken, he will utterly desert you, and leave you to walk
in your own counsels.
It seems by God's providence, as though God had yet
an elect number amongst old sinners in this place, that
perhaps he is now about to bring in. It looks as though
there were some that long lived under Mr. Stoddard's
ministry, that God has not utterly cast off, though they
stood it out under such great means as they then enjoyed.
It is to be hoped that God will now bring in a remnant
from among them. But it is the more likely that God is
now about finishing with them, one way or other, for their
having been so long the subjects of such extraordinary
means. You have seen former times of the pouring out of
God's Spirit upon the town, when others were taken and
you left, others were called out of darkness into marvel
lous light, and were brought into a glorious and happy
state, and you saw not good when good came. How
dark will your circumstances appear, if you shall also
stand it out through this opportunity, and still be left be
hind ! Take heed that you be not of those spoken of,
Heb. vi. 7, 8. that are like the " earth that has ram coming
oft upon it, and only bears briers and thorns." As we
see there are some pieces of ground, the more showers of
rain fall upon them, the more fruitful seasons there are, the
more do the briers, and other useless and hurtful plants,
that are rooted in them, grow and flourish. Of such
ground the apostle says, " It is rejected, and is nigh unto
cursing, whose end is to be burned." The way that the
husbandman takes with such ground, is, to set fire to it,
to burn up the growth of it. — If you miss this opportunity,
there is danger that you will be utterly rejected, and that
your end will be to be burned. And if this is to be, it is
to be feared, that you are not far from, but nigh unto,
cursing. Those of you that are already grown old in sin, and are
now under awakenings, when you feel your convictions
begin to go off, if ever that should be, then remember
what you nave now been told ; it may well then strike
you to the heart !
IV. I would direct the advice to those that are young,
and now under their first special convictions. I would
earnestly urge such to improve this opportunity, and press
into the kingdom of God. — Consider two things,
1 . You have all manner of advantages now centering
upon you. It is a time of great advantage for all ; but
your advantages are above others. There is no other sort
of persons that have now so great and happy an opportu
nity as you have. — -You have the great advantage that is
common to all who live in this place, viz. That now it is
a time of the extraordinary pouring out of the Spirit of
God. And have you not that great advantage, the awaken
ing influences ofthe Spirit of God on you in particular ?

and besides, you have this peculiar advantage, that you are
now in your youth. And added to this, you have another
unspeakable advantage, that you now are under your first
convictions. Happy is he that never has hardened his
heart, and blocked up his own way to heaven by backslid
ing, and has now the awakening influences of God's Spirit,
if God does but enable him thoroughly to improve them !
Such above all in the world bid fair for the kingdom of
God. God is wont on such, above any kind of persons, as
it were easily and readily to bestow the saving grace and
comforts of his Spirit. Instances of speedy and sudden
conversion are most commonly found among such. Happy
are they that have the Spirit of God with them, and never
have quenched it, if they did but know the price they
have in their hands !
If you have a sense of your necessity of salvation, and
the great worth and value of it, you will be willing to take
the surest way to it, or that which has the greatest proba
bility of success : and that certainly is, thoroughly to im
prove your first convictions. If you do so, it is not likely
that you will fail ; there is the greatest probability that you
will succeed. — What is it not worth, to have such an
advantage in one's hands for obtaining eternal life? The
present season of the pouring out of God's Spirit, is the
first that many of you who are now under awakenings
have ever seen, since you came to years of understanding.
On which account, it is the greatest opportunity that ever
you have had, and probably by far the greatest that ever
you will have. There are manv here present who wish
they had such an opportunity, but they never can obtain
it ; they cannot buy it for money ; but you have it in your
possession, and can improve it if you will. But yet,
2. There is on some accounts greater danger that such
as are in your circumstances will fail of thoroughly im
proving their convictions, with respect to stedfastness and
perseverance, than others. Those that are young are more
unstable than elder persons. They who never had con
victions before, have less experience of the difficulty of the
work they have engaged in ; they are more ready to think
that they shall obtain salvation easily, and are more easily
discouraged by disappointments ; and young persons have
less reason and consideration to fortify them against temp
tations to backsliding. You should therefore labour now
the more to guard against su_h temptations. By all means
make but one work of seeking salvation ! Make thorough
work of it the first time ! There are vast disadvantages
that they bring themselves under, who have several turns
of seeking with great intermissions. By such a course,
persons exceedingly wound their own souls, and entangle
themselves in many snares. Who are those that com
monly meet with so many difficulties, and are so long
labouring in darkness and perplexity, but those who have
had several turns at seeking salvation ; who have one
while had convictions, and then have quenched them, and
then have set about the work again, and have backslidden
again, and have gone on after that manner? The children
of Israel would not have been forty years in the wilder
ness, if they had held their courage, and had gone on as
they set out; but they were of an unstable mind, and
were for going back again into Egypt. — Otherwise, if they
had gone right forward without discouragement, as God
would have led them, they would have soon entered and
taken possession of Canaan. They had got to the very
borders of it when they turned back, but were thirty-eight
vcars after that, before they got through the wilderness.
Therefore, as you regard the interest of your soul, do not
run yourself into a like difficulty, by unsteadiness, inter
mission, and backsliding; but press right forward, from
henceforth, and make but one work of seeking, converting,
and pardoning grace, however great, and difficult, and long
a work that may be.

664

FIVE DISCOURSES.

DISCOURSE III.

RUTH'S RESOLUTION.

Ruth i. 16.
And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return
from following after thee : for whither thou goest, I will
go; and where' thou lodgest, I will' lodge: thy people
shull be my people, and thy God my God.
The historical things in this book of Ruth, seem to be
inserted in the canon of the Scripture, especially on two
accounts :
First, Because Christ was of Ruth's posterity. The
Holy Ghost thought fit to take particular notice of that
marriage of Boaz with Ruth, whence sprang the Saviour
of the world. We may often observe it, that the Holy
Spirit who indited the Scriptures, often takes notice of
little things, or minute occurrences, that do but remotely
relate to Jesus Christ.
Secondly, Because this history seems to be typical of
the calling of the Gentile church, and indeed of the con
version of every believer. Ruth was not originally of
Israel, but was a Moabitess, an alien from the common
wealth of Israel : but she forsook her own people, and the
idols of the Gentiles, to worship the God of Israel, and to
join herself to that people. Herein she seems to be a type
of the Gentile church, and also of every sincere convert.
Ruth was the remote mother of Christ ; he came of her
posterity : so the church is Christ's mother, as she is re
presented, Rev. xii. at the beginning. And so also is
every true Christian his mother. Matt. xii. 50. " Who
soever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven,
the same is my brother, and sister, and mother." Christ
is what the soul is in travail with, at the new birth. Ruth
forsook all her natural relations, and her own country, the
land of her nativity, and all her former possessions there,
for the sake of the God of Israel ; as every true Christian
forsakes all for Christ. Psalm xiv. 10. " Hearken, O
daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear ; forget also
thine own people, and thy father's house."
Naomi was now returning out of the land of Moab, into
the land of Israel, with her two daughters-in-law, Orpah
and Ruth ; who will represent to us two sorts of professors
of religion : Orpah, those who indeed make a fair profes
sion, and seem to set out well, but continue only for a
while, and then turn back ; Ruth, those who are sound
and sincere, and therefore are stedfast and persevering in
their way. Naomi, in the preceding verses, represents to
her daughters the difficulties of their leaving their own
country to go with her. And in this verse may be ob
served, 1. The remarkable conduct and behaviour of Ruth on
this occasion ; with what inflexible resolution she cleaves
to Naomi, and follows her. When Naomi first arose to
return from the country of Moab into the land of Israel,
Orpah and Ruth both set out with her; and Naomi ex
horts them both to return. And both wept, and seemed
as if thev could not bear the thoughts of leaving her, and
appeared as if they were resolved to go with her. Verse
10. " And they said unto her, Surely we will return with
thee unto thy people." Then Naomi says to them again,
" Turn again, my daughters, go your way," &c. And then
they were greatly affected again, and Orpah returned and
went back. Now Ruth's stedfastness in her purpose had
a greater trial, but yet is not overcome : " She clave unto
her," verse 14. Then Naomi speaks to her again, verse
15. " Behold, thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her peo
ple, and unto her gods ; return thou after thy sister-in-
law." And then she shows her immovable resolution in
the text and following verse.
2. I would particularly observe that wherein the vir-
tuousness of this her resolution consists, viz. that it was

for the sake of the God of Israel, and that she might be
one of his people, that she was thus resolved to cleave to
Naomi : " Thy people shall be my people, and thy God
my God." It was for God's sake that she did thus ; and
therefore her so doing is afterwards spoken of as a virtuous
behaviour in her, chap. ii. 11, 12. " And Boaz answered
and said unto her, It hath fully been showed me, all that
thou hast done unto thy mother-in-law since the death of
thine husband ; and how thou hast left thy father, and thy
mother, and the land of thy nativity, and art come unto a
people which thou knewest not heretofore. The Lord
recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of
the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come
to trust." She left her father and mother, and the land of
her nativity, to come and trust under the shadow of God's
wings ; and she had indeed a full reward given her, as
Boaz wished ; for besides immediate spiritual blessings to
her own soul, and eternal rewards in another world, she
was rewarded with plentiful and prosperous outward cir
cumstances in the family of Boaz. And God raised up
David and Solomon of her seed, and established the crown
of Israel (the people that she chose before her own people)
in her posterity ; and, which is much more, of her seed he
raised up Jesus Christ, in whom all the families of the
earth are blessed.
From the words thus opened, I observe this for the
subject of my present discourse : — " When those that we
have formerly been conversant with, are turning to God,
and joining themselves to his people, it ought to be our
firm resolution, that we will not leave them ; but that their
people shall be our people, and their God our God."
It sometimes happens, that of those who have been con
versant one with another — who have dwelt together as
neighbours, and have been often together as companions,
or united in their relation, and have been together in dark
ness, bondage, and misery, in the service of Satan — some
are enlightened, and have their minds changed, are made
to see the great evil of sin, and have their hearts turned to
God. They are influenced by the Holy Spirit of God, to
leave their company that are on Satan's side, and to join
themselves with that blessed company that are with Jesus
Christ. They are made willing to forsake the tents of
wickedness, to dwell in the land of uprightness with the
people of God.
And sometimes this proves a final parting or separation
between them and those with whom they have been for
merly conversant. Though it may be no parting in out
ward respects, they may still dwell, and converse one with
another ; yet in other respects, it sets them at a great dis
tance. One is a child of God, and the other his enemy;
one is in a miserable, and the other in a happy, condition ;
one is a citizen of the heavenly Zion, the other is under
condemnation to hell. They are no longer together in
those respects wherein they used to be together. They
used to be of one mind to serve sin, and do Satan's work ;
now they are of contrary minds. They used to be toge
ther in worldliness and sinful vanity ; now they are of ex
ceeding different dispositions. They are separated as they
are in different kingdoms ; the one remains in the king
dom of darkness, the other is translated into the kingdom
of God's dear Son. And sometimes they are finally se-
?arated in these respects : while one dwells in the land of
srael, and in the house of God ; the other, like Orpah,
lives and dies in the land of Moab.
Now it is lamentable, it is awful being parted so. It is
doleful, when of those who have formerly been together in
sin, some turn to God, and join themselves with his peo
ple, that it should prove a parting between them and their
former companions and acquaintance. It should be our
firm and inflexible resolution in such a case, that it shall

Disc. III.

RUTH'S RESOLUTION.

665

be no parting, but that we will follow them, that their
people shall be our people, and their God our God ; and
that for the following reasons :
1. Because their God is a glorious God. There is none
like him, who is infinite in glory and excellency. He is
the most high God, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises,
doing wonders. His name is excellent in all the earth,
and his glory is above the heavens. Among the gods
there is none like unto him ; there is none in heaven to be
compared to him, nor are there any among the sons of the
mighty that can be likened unto him. Their God is the
fountain of all good, and an inexhaustible fountain; he is
an all-sufficient God, able to protect and defend them,
and do all things for them. He is the King of glory, the
Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle : a
strong rock, and a high tower. There is none like the
God of Jeshurun, who rideth on the heaven in their help,
and in his excellency on the sky : the eternal God is their
refuge, and underneath are everlasting arms. He is a God
who hath all things in his hands, and does whatsoever he
pleases : he killeth and maketh alive ; he bringeth down
to the grave and bringeth up; he maketh poor and maketh
rich : the pillars of the earth are the Lord's. Their God
is an infinitely holy God ; there is none holy as the Lord.
And he is infinitely good and merciful. Many that others
worship and serve as gods, are cruel beings, spirits that
seek the ruin of souls ; but this is a God that delighteth in
mercy; his grace is infinite, and endures for ever. He is
love itself, an infinite fountain and ocean of it.
Such a God is their God ! Such is the excellency of Ja
cob ! Such is the God of them who have forsaken their sins
and are converted ! They have made a wise choice who
have chosen this for their God. Thev have made a happy
exchange indeed, that have exchanged sin, and the world,
for such a God !
They have an excellent and glorious Saviour, who is the
only-begotten Son of God ; the brightness of his Father's
glory ; one in whom God from eternity had infinite de
light ; a Saviour of infinite love ; one that has shed his
own blood, and made his soul an offering for their sins,
and one that is able to save them to the uttermost.
II. Their people are an excellent and happy people. God
has renewed them, and stamped his own image upon them,
and made them partakers of his holiness. They are more
excellent than their neighbours, Prov. xii. 26. Yea, they
are the excellent of the earth, Psalm xvi. 3. They are
lovely in the sight of the angels ; and they have their souls
adorned with those graces that in the sight of God himself
are of great price.
The people of God are the most excellent and happy
society in the world. That God whom they have chosen
for their God, is their Father ; he has pardoned all their
sins, and they are at peace with him ; and he has admitted
them to all the privileges of his children. As they have
devoted themselves to God, so he has given himself to
them. He is become their salvation, and their portion :
his power and mercy, and all his attributes, are theirs.
Th'ey are in a safe state, free from all possibility of perish
ing : Satan has no power to destroy them. God carries
them on eagle's wings, far above Satan's reach, and above
the reach of all the enemies of their souls. God is with
them in this world ; they have his gracious presence. God
is for them; who then can be against them? As the
mountains are round about Jerusalem, so Jehovah is round
about them. God is their shield, and their exceeding great
reward ; and their fellowship is with the Father, and with
his Son Jesus Christ : and they have the divine promise
and oath, that in the world to come they shall dwell for
ever in the glorious presence of God.
It may well be sufficient to induce us to resolve to
cleave to those that forsalce their sins and idols to join
themselves with this people, that God is with them, Zech.
viii. 23. "Thus saith the Lord of hosts, in those days it
shall come to pass, that ten men shall take hold out of all
languages of the nations, even shall take hold of the skirt
of him that is a Jew, saying, We will go with you ; for we
have heard that God is with you." So should persons, as
it were, take hold of the skirt of their neighbours and
companions that have turned to God, and resolve that they
will go with them, because God is with them.

III. Happiness is no where else to be had, but in their
God, and with their people. There are that are called
gods many, and lords many. Some make gods of their
pleasures ; some choose Mammon for their god ; some
make gods of their own supposed excellences, or the out
ward advantages they have above their neighbours : some
choose one thing for their god, and others another. But
men can be happy in no other but the God of Israel : he
is the only fountain of happiness. Other gods cannot
help in calamity ; nor can any of them afford what the
poor empty soul stands in need of. Let men adore those
other gods never so much, and call upon them never so
earnestly, and serve them never so diligently, they will
nevertheless remain poor, wretched, unsatisfied, undone
creatures. All other people are miserable, but that people
whose God is the Lord. — The world is divided into two
societies : the people of God, the little flock of Jesus
Christ, that company that we read of, Rev. xiv. 4. " These
are they which were not defiled with women ; for they are
virgins : these are they which follow the Lamb whitherso
ever he goeth : these were redeemed from among men,
being the first-fruits unto God, and to the Lamb :" and,
those that belong to the kingdom qf darkness, that are with
out Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel,
strangers from the covenant of promise, having no hope,
and without God in the world. All that are of this latter
company are wretched and undone ; they are the enemies
of God, and under his wrath and condemnation. They are
the devil's slaves, that serve him blindfold, and are befool
ed and ensnared by him, and hurried along in the broad
way to eternal perdition.
IV. When those that we have formerly been conversant
with are turning to God and to his people, their example
ought to influence us. Their example should be looked
upon as the call of God to us, to do as they have done.
God, when he changes the heart of one, calls upon another ;
especially does he loudly call on those that have been their
friends and acquaintance. We have been influenced by
their examples in evil ; and shall we cease to follow them,
when they make the wisest choice that ever they made,
and do the best thing that ever they did ? If we have been
companions with them in worldliness, in vanity, in unpro
fitable and sinful conversation, it will be a hard case, if
there must be a parting now, because we are not willing to
be companions with them in holiness and true happiness.
Men are greatly influenced by seeing one another's pros
perity in other things. If those whom they have been
much conversant with, grow rich, and obtain any great
earthly advantages, it awakens their ambition, and eager
desire after the like prosperity : how much more should
they be influenced, and stirred up to follow them, and be
like them, when they obtain that spiritual and eternal hap
piness, that is of infinitely more worth, than all the pros
perity and glory of this world !
V. Our resolutions to cleave to and follow those that are
turning to God, and joining themselves to his people, ought
to he fixed and strong, because of the great difficulty of it.
If we will cleave to them, and have their God for our
God, and their people for our people, we must mortify and
deny all our lusts, and cross every evil appetite and incli
nation, and for ever part with all sin. But our lusts are
many and violent. Sin is naturally exceeding dear to us ;
to part with it is compared to plucking out our right eyes.
Men may refrain from wonted ways of sin for a little
while, and may deny their lusts in a partial degree, with
less difficulty ; but it is heart-rending work, finally to part
with all sin, and to give our dearest lusts a bill of divorce,
utterly to send them away. But this we must do, if we
would follow those that are truly turning to God : yea, we
must not only forsake sin, but must, in a sense, forsake all
the world, Luke xiv. 33. " Whosoever he be of you that
forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple."
That is, he must forsake all in his heart, and must come
to a thorough disposition and readiness actually to quit all
for God, and the glorious spiritual privileges of his people,
whenever the case may require it; and that without any
prospect of any thing of the like nature, or any worldly
thing whatsoever, to make amends for it ; and all to go into
a strange country, a land that has hitherto been unseen ;
like Abraham, who being called of God, " went out of his

ceo

FIVE DISCOURSES.

own country, and from his kindred, and from his father's
house, for a land that God should show him, not knowing
whither he went."
Thus, it was a hard thing for Ruth to forsake her native
country, her father and mother, her kindred and acquaint
ance, and all the pleasant things she had in the laud of
Moab, to dwell in the land of Israel, where she never had
been. Naomi told her of the difficulties once and again.
They were too hard for her sister Orpah ; the consideration
of them turned her back after she was set out. Her reso
lution was not firm enough to overcome them. But so
firmly resolved was Ruth, that she brake through all ; she
was stedfast in it, that, let the difficulty be what it would,
she would not leave her mother-in-law. So persons had
need to be very firm in their resolution to conquer the dif
ficulties that are in the way of cleaving to them who are
indeed turning from sin to God.
Our cleaving to them, and having their God for our God,
and their people for our people, depends on our resolution
and choice ; and that in two respects.
1. The firmness of resolution in using means in order to
it, is the way to have means effectual. There are means
appointed in order to our becoming some of the true Israel,
and having their God for our God ; and the thorough use
of these means is the way to have success ; but not a slack
or slighty use of them. And that we may be thorough,
there is need of strength of resolution, a firm and inflexible
disposition and bent of mind to be universal in the use of
means, and to do what we do with our might, and to per
severe in it. Matt. xi. 12. " The kingdom of heaven suf
fered! violence, and the violent take it by force."
2. A choosing of their God, and their people, with a full
determination, and with the whole soul, is the condition
of an union with them. God gives every man his choice
in this matter : as Orpah and Ruth had their choice,
whether they would go with Naomi into the land of Israel,
or stay in the land of Moab. A natural man may choose
deliverance from hell ; but no man doth ever heartily choose
God and Christ, and the spiritual benefits that Christ has
purchased, and the happiness of God's people, till he is
converted. On the contrary, he is averse to them ; he has
no relish of them ; and is wholly ignorant of their inesti
mable worth and value.
Many carnal men seem to choose these things, but do
it not really ; as Orpah seemed at first to choose to for
sake Moab to go into the land of Israel : but when Naomi
came to set before her the difficulty of it, she went back ;
and thereby showed that she was not fully determined
in her choice, and that her whole soul was not in it as
Ruth's was. APPLICATION.
The use that I shall make of what has been said, is to
move sinners to this resolution, with respect to those
amongst us that have lately turned to God, and joined
themselves to the flock of Chnst. Through the abundant
mercy and grace of God to us in this place, it may be said
of many of you that are in a Christless condition, that you
have lately been left by those that were formerly with you
in such a state. Some of those with whom you have
formerly been conversant, have lately forsaken a life of sin
and the service of Satan, and have turned to God, and fled
to Christ, and joined themselves to that blessed company
that are with him. They formerly were with you in sin
and in misery ; but now they are with you no more in that
state or manner of life. They are changed, and have fled
from the wrath to come ; they have chosen a life of holiness
here, and the enjoyment of God hereafter. They were
formerly your associates in bondage, and were with you in
Satan's business ; but now you have their company no
longer in these things. Many of you have seen those you
live with, under the same roof, turning from being any
longer with you in sin, to be with the people of Jesus
Christ. Some of you that are husbands, have had your
wives ; and some of you that are wives, have had your
husbands ; some of you that are children, have had
your parents ; and parents have had your children ; many
of you have had your brothers and sisters ; and many your
near neighbours, and acquaintance, and special friends ;

many of you that are young have had your companions : I
say, many of you have had those that you have been thus
concerned with, leaving you, forsaking that doleful life and
wretched state in which you still continue. God, of his
good pleasure and wonderful grace, hath lately caused in
this place multitudes to forsake their old abodes in the
land of Moab, and under the gods of Moab, and go into
the land of Israel, to put their trust under the wings of the
Lord God of Israel. Though you and they have been
nearly related, and have dwelt together, or have been often
together and intimately acquainted, they have been taken,
and you hitherto left ! O let it not be the foundation of a
final parting ! But earnestly follow them ; be firm in your
resolution in this matter. Do not as Orpah did, who,
though at first she made as though she would follow
Naomi, yet when she had the difficulty set before her, went
back : but say as Ruth, " I will not leave thee; but where
thou goest, I will go : thy people shall be my people, and
thy God my God. Say as she said, and do as she did.
Consider the excellency of their God, and their Saviour,
and the happiness of their people, the blessed state that
they are in, and the doleful state you are in.
You are old sinners, who have lived long in the service
of Satan, have lately seen some that have travelled with you
in the paths of sin these many years, turning to God. They
with you enjoyed great means and advantages, had calls
and warnings with you, and with you passed through re
markable times of the pouring out of God's Spirit in this
place, and hardened their hearts and stood it out with you,
and with you have grown old in sin ; yet you have seen
some of them turning to God, i. e. you have seen those
evidences of it in them, whence you may rationally judge
that it is so. O ! let it not be a final parting ! You have,
been thus long together in sin, and under condemnation ;
let it be your firm resolution, that, if possible, you will be
with them still, now they are in a holy and happy state,
and that you will follow them into the holy and pleasant
land. — You that tell of your having been seeking salvation
for many years, (though, without doubt, in a poor dull
way, in comparison of what you ought to have done,) have
seen some old sinners and old seekers, as you are, obtain
ing mercy. God has lately roused them from their dul
ness, and caused them to alter their hand, and put them
on more thorough endeavours ; and they have now, after
so long a time, heard God's voice, and have fled for refuge
to the rock of ages. Let this awaken earnestness and
resolution in you. Resolve that you will not leave them.
You who are in your youth, how many have you seen
of your age and standing, that have of late hopefully
chosen God for their God, and Christ for their Saviour"!
You have followed them in sin, and have perhaps followed
them into vain company ; and will you not now follow
them to Christ? — And you who are children, know that
there have lately been some of your sort who have re
pented of their sins, loved the Lord Jesus Christ, and
trusted in him, and are become God's children, as we have
reason to hope : let it stir you up to resolve to your ut
most to seek and cry to God, that you may have the like
change made in your hearts, that their people may be your
people, and their God your God.
You who are great sinners, who have made yourselves
distinguishingly guilty by the wicked practices you have
lived in, know that there are some of your sort who have
lately (as we have reason to hope) had their hearts broken
for sin, and have forsaken it, and trusted in the blood of
Christ for the pardon of it. They have chosen a holy life,
and have betaken themselves to the ways of wisdom : let
it excite and encourage you resolutely to cleave to them,
and earnestly to follow them.
Let the following things be considered :
1. That your soul is as precious as theirs. It is immortal
as theirs is ; and stands in as much need of happiness, and
can as ill bear eternal misery. You was born in the same
miserable condition that they were, having the same wrath
of God abiding on you. You must stand before the same
Judge; who will be as strict in judgment with you as
with them; and your own righteousness will stand you in
no more stead before him than theirs ; and therefore you
stand in as absolute necessity of a Saviour as they. Carnal
confidences can no more answer your end than theirs ; nor

Disc. III.

RUTH'S RESOLUTION.

667

can this world or its enjoyments serve to make you happy
without God and Christ, more than them. When the
bridegroom comes, the foolish virgins stand in as much
need of oil as the wise, Matt. xxv. at the beginning.
2. Unless you follow them in their turning to God, their
conversion will be a foundation of an eternal separation
between you and them. You will be in different interests,
and in exceeding different states, as long as you live ; they
the children of God, and you the children of Satan ; and
you will be parted in another world; when you come to
die, there will be a vast separation made between you.
Luke xvi. 26. " And besides all this, between us and you
there is a great gulf fixed : so that they which would pass
from hence to you, cannot ; neither can they pass to us,
that would come from thence." And you will be parted
at the day of judgment. You will be parted at Christ's
first appearance in the clouds of heaven. While they are
caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, to be
ever with the Lord, you will remain below, confined to
this cursed ground, that is kept in store, reserved unto fire,
against the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly
men. You will appear separated from them, while you
stand before the great judgment-seat, they being at the
right hand, while you are set at the left. Matt. xxv. 32,
33. " And before him shall be gathered all nations; and
he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd
divideth his sheep from the goats ; and he shall set the
sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left." And
you shall then appear in exceeding different circum
stances : while you stand with devils, in the image and
deformity of devils, and in ineffable horror and amazement,
they shall appear in glory, sitting on thrones, as assessors
with Christ, and as such passing judgment upon you,
1 Cor. vi. 2. And what shame and confusion will then
•cover you, when so many of your contemporaries, your
equals, your neighbours, relations, and companions, shall
be honoured, and openly acknowledged, and confessed by
the glorious Judge of the universe, and Redeemer of
saints, and shall be seen by you sitting with him in such
glory. You shall appear to have neglected your salvation,
and not to have improved your opportunities, and rejected
the Lord Jesus Christ, the same person that will then ap
pear as your great Judge, and you shall be the subjects of
wrath, and, as it were, trodden down in eternal contempt
and disgrace. Dan. xii. 2. " Some shall rise to everlasting
life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt." And
What a wide separation will the sentence then passed and
executed make between you and them ! When you shall
be sent away out of the presence of the Judge with indig
nation and abhorrence, as cursed and loathsome crea
tures they shall be sweetly accosted and invited into his
glory as his dear friends, and the blessed of his Father !
When you, with all that vast throng of wicked and ac
cursed men and devils, shall descend with loud lament-
ings, and horrid shrieks, into that dreadful gulf of fire
and brimstone, and shall be swallowed up in that great
and everlasting furnace ; they shall joyfully, and with
sweet songs of glory and praise, ascend with Christ, and
all that beauteous and blessed company of saints and
angels, into eternal felicity, in the glorious presence of
God, and the sweet embraces of his love. You and they
shall spend eternity in such a separation, and immensely
different circumstances! You have been intimately ac
quainted and nearly related, closely united and mutually
conversant in this world ; and you have taken delight in
each other's company ! And shall it be — after you have
been together a great while, each of you in undoing your
selves, enhancing your guilt, and heaping up wrath — that
their so wisely changing their minds and their course, and
choosing such happiness for themselves, should now at
length be the beginning of such an exceeding and ever
lasting separation between you and them ? How awful
will it be to be parted so !
3. Consider the great encouragement that God gives
you, earnestly to strive for the same blessing that others
have obtained. There is great encouragement in the word
of God to sinners to seek salvation, in the revelation we
have of the abundant provision made for the salvation
even of the chief of sinners, and in the appointment of so
many means to be used with and by sinners, in order to

their salvation; and by the blessing which God in his
word connects with the means of his appointment. There
is hence great encouragement for all, at all times, that will
he thorough in using of these means. But now God gives
extraordinary encouragement in his providence, by pouring
out his Spirit so remarkably amongst us, and bringing
savingly home to himself all sorts, young and old, rich
and poor, wise and unwise, sober and vicious, old self-
righteous seekers, and profligate livers : no sort are exempt.
There is at this day amongst us the loudest call, and the
greatest encouragement, and the widest door opened to
sinners, to escape out of a state of sin and condemnation,
that perhaps God ever granted in New England. Who is
there that has an immortal soul, so sottish as not to improve
such an opportunity, and that will not bestir himself with
all his might ? How unreasonable is negligence, and how
exceeding unreasonable is discouragement, at such a day
as this ! Will you be so stupid as to neglect your soul
now ? Will any mortal amongst us be so unreasonable as
to lag behind, or look back in discouragement, when
God opens such a door? Let every person be thoroughly
awake ! Let every one encourage himself now to press
forward, and fly for his life !
4. Consider how earnestly desirous they that have ob
tained are that you should follow them, and that their
people should be your people, and their God your God.
They desire that you should partake of that great good
which God has given them, and that unspeakable and
eternal blessedness which he has promised them. They
wish and long it. If you do not go with them, and are
not still of their company, it will not be for want of their
willingness, but your own. That of Moses to Hobab is
the language of every true saint of your acquaintance to
you. Numb. x. 29. " We are journeying unto the place
of which the Lord said, I will give it you : come thou
with us, and we will do thee good ; for the Lord hath
spoken good concerning Israel." As Moses, when on his
journey through the wilderness, following the pillar of
cloud and fire, invited Hobab — with whom he had been
acquainted in the land of Midian, where Moses had
formerly dwelt with him— to go with him and his people
to Canaan, to partake with them in the good that God had
promised them ; so do those of your friends and acquaint
ance invite you, out of a land of darkness and wickedness,
where they have formerly been with you, to go with them
to the heavenly Canaan. The company of saints, the true
church of Christ, invite you. The lovely bride calls you
to the marriage supper. She hath authority to invite
guests to her own wedding ; and you ought to look on
her invitation and desire, as the call of Christ the bride
groom ; for it is the voice of his Spirit in her, Rev. xxii. 17.
" The Spirit and the bride say, Come." Where seems to
be a reference to what has been said, chap. xix. 7 — 9.
" The marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath
made herself ready. And to her was granted, that she
should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white ; for the
fine linen is the righteousness of saints. And he saith
unto me, Write, blessed are they which are called to the
marriage-supper ofthe Lamb." It is with respect to this
her marriage-supper that she, from the motion of the Spirit
of the Lamb in her, says, Come. So that you are invited
on all hands ; all conspire to call you. God the Father
invites you : this is the King who has made a marriage
for his Son ; and he sends forth his servants, the ministers
of the gospel, to invite the guests. • And the Son himself
invites you : it is he that speaks, Rev. xvii. 17. " And let
him that heareth say, Come ; and let him that is athirst,
come ; and whosoever will, let him come." He tells us
who he is in the foregoing verse, " I Jesus, the root and
offspring of David, the bright and morning star." And
God's ministers invite you, and all the church invites you ;
and there will be joy in the presence of the angels of God
that hour that you accept the invitation.
5. Consider what a doleful company will be left after
this extraordinary time of mercy is over. We have reason
to think that there will be a number left. We read that
when Ezekiel's healing waters increased so abundantly,
and the healing effect of them was so very general ; yet
there were certain places, where the waters came, that never
were healed. Ezek. xlvii. 9 — 11. " And it shall come to

668

FIVE DISCOURSES.

pass, that every thing that liveth, which moveth, whither
soever the rivers shall come, shall live. And there shall
be a very great multitude of fish, because these waters
shall come thither : for they shall be healed, and every
thing shall live whither the river cometh. And it shall
come to pass, that the fishers shall stand upon it, from
En-gedi even unto En-eglaim ; they shall be a place to
spread forth nets : there fish shall be according to their
kinds, as the fish of the great sea, exceeding many. But
the miry places thereof, and the marishes thereof, shall not
be healed, they shall be given to salt." And even in the
apostles' times', when there was such wonderful success of
the gospel wherever they came, there were some that did
not believe. Acts xiii. 48. " And when the Gentiles
heard this, they were glad, and glorified the word of the
Lord : and as many as were ordained to eternal life, be
lieved." And chap, xxviii. 24. " And some believed, and
some believed not. So we have no reason to expect but
there will be some left amongst us. It is to be hoped it
will be but a small company : but what a doleful company
will it be ! How darkly and awfully will it look upon

them ! If you shall be of that company, how well may
your friends and relations lament over you, and bemoan
your dark and dangerous circumstances ! If you would
not be one of them, make haste, delay not, and look not
behind you. Shall all sorts obtain, shall every one press
into the kingdom of God, while you stay loitering behind
in a doleful undone condition ?' Shall every one take
heaven, while you remain with no other portion but this
world ? Now take up that resolution, that if it be possi
ble you will cleave to them that have fled for refuge to lay
hold of the hope set before them. Count the cost of a
thorough, violent, and perpetual pursuit of salvation, and
forsake all, as Ruth forsook her own country, and ail her
pleasant enjoyments in it. Do not do as Orpah did ; who
set out, and then was discouraged, and went back : but
hold out with Ruth through all discouragement and oppo
sition. When you consider others that have chosen the
better part, let" that resolution be ever firm with you :
" where thou goest, I will go ; where thou lodgest, I
will lodge : thy people shall be my people, and thy God
my God."

DISCOURSE IV.

THE JUSTICE OF GOD IN THE DAMNATION OF SINNERS.

Rom. iii. 19.
— That every mouth may be stopped. —
The main subject of the doctrinal part of this epistle, is
the free grace of God in the salvation of men by Jesus
Christ ; especially as it appears in the doctrine of justifi
cation by faith alone. And the more clearly to evince this
doctrine, and show the reason of it, the apostle, in the first
place, establishes that point, that no flesh living can be
justified by the deeds of the law. And to prove it, he is
very large and particular in showing, that all mankind,
not only the Gentiles, but Jews, are under sin, and so
under the condemnation of the law; which is what he
insists upon from the beginning of the epistle to this place.
He first begins with the Gentiles ; and in the first chapter
shows that they are under sin, by setting forth the exceed
ing corruptions and horrid wickedness that overspread the
Gentile world : and then through the second chapter, and
the former part of this third chapter, to the text and fol
lowing verse, he shows the same of the Jews, that they
also are in the same circumstances with the Gentiles in
this regard. They had a high thought of themselves,
because they were God's covenant people, and circum
cised, and the children of Abraham. They despised the
Gentiles as polluted, condemned, and accursed; but
looked on themselves, on account of their external pri
vileges, and ceremonial and moral righteousness, as a pure
and holy people, and the children of God ; as the apostle
observes in the second chapter. It was therefore strange
doctrine to them, that they also were unclean and guilty
in God's sight, and under the condemnation and curse of
the law. The apostle therefore, on account of their strong
prejudices against such doctrine, the more particularly
insists upon it, and shows that they are no better than the
Gentiles ; as in the 9th verse of this chapter, " What
then ? are we better than they ? No, in no wise ; for we
have before proved both Jews and Gentiles, that they are
all under sin." And, to convince them of it, he produces
certain passages out of their own law, or the Old Testa
ment, (to whose authority they pretended a great regard,)
from the 9th verse to our text. And it may be observed,
that the apostle, first, cites certain passages to prove that
all mankind are corrupt, (ver. 10 — 12.) " As it is written,
There is none righteous, no not one : There is none that
understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God : They
are all gone out of the way, they are together become un

profitable, there is none that doeth good, no not one."
Secondly, The passages he cites next, are to prove, that not
only are all corrupt, but each one wholly corrupt, as it
were all over unclean, from the crown of the head to the
soles of his feet ; and therefore several particular parts of
the body are mentioned, the throat, the tongue, the lips,
the mouth, the feet, (ver. 13 — 15.) " Their throat is an
open sepulchre ; with their tongues they have used deceit;
the poison of asps is under their lips ; whose mouth is full
of cursing and bitterness : their feet are swift to shed blood."
And, Thirdly, He quotes other passages to show, that each
one is not only all over corrupt, but corrupt to a desperate
degree, (ver. 16 — 18.) by affirming the most pernicious
tendency of their wickedness ; " Destruction and misery
are in their ways." And then by denying all goodness or
godliness in them ; " And the way of peace have they not
known : There is no fear of God before their eyes." And
then, lest the Jews should think these passages of their
law do not concern them, and that only the Gentiles are
intended in them, the apostle shows in the text, not only
that they are not exempt, but that they especially must be
understood : "Now we know that whatsoever things the
law saith, it saith to them who are under the law." By
those that are under the law are meant the Jews ; and the
Gentiles by those that are without law ; as appears by the
12 th verse ofthe preceding chapter. There is special rea
son to understand the law, as speaking to and of them, to
whom it was immediately given. And therefore the Jews
would be unreasonable in exempting themselves. And if
we examine the places ofthe Old Testament whence these
passages are taken, we shall see plainly that special respect
is had to the wickedness of the people of that nation, in
every one of them. So that the law shuts all up in uni
versal and desperate wickedness, that every mouth may be
stopped; the mouths of the Jews, as weli as of the Gen
tiles, notwithstanding all those privileges by which they
were distinguished from the Gentiles.
The things that the law says, are sufficient to stop the
mouths of all mankind, in two respects.
1. To stop them from boasting of their righteousness, as
the Jews were wont to do ; as the apostle observes in the
23d verse of the preceding chapter.— That the apostle has
respect to stopping their mouths in this respect, appears by
the 27th verse of the context, " Where is boasting then?
It is excluded." The law stops our mouths from making
any plea for life, or the favour of God, or any positive good,
from our own righteousness.

Disc IV.

THE JUSTICE OF GOD.

669

2. To stop them from making any excuse for ourselves,
or objection against the execution of the sentence of the
law, or the infliction of the punishment that it threatens.
That this is intended, appears by the words immediately
following, " That all the world may become guilty before
God." That is, that they may appear to be guilty, and
stand convicted before God, and justly liable to the con
demnation of his law, as guilty of death, according to the
Jewish way of speaking.
And thus^ the apostle proves, that no flesh can be justi
fied in God's sight by the deeds of the law ; as he draws
the conclusion in the following verse ; and so prepares the
way for establishing the great doctrine of justification by
faith alone, which he proceeds to do in the following part
of the chapter, and of the epistle.

DOCTRINE.
" It is just with God eternally to cast off and destroy
sinners." — For this is the punishment which the law con
demns to. — The truth of this doctrine may appear by the
joint consideration of two things, viz. Man s sinfulness, and
God's sovereignty.
I. It appears from the consideration of man's sinfulness.
And that whether we consider the infinitely evil nature of
all sin, or how much sin men are guilty of.
1. If we consider the infinite evil and heinousness of sin
in general, it is not unjust in God to inflict what punish
ment is deserved ; because the very notion of deserving
any punishment is, that it may be justly inflicted. A de
served punishment and a just punishment are the same
thin;;. To say that one deserves such a punishment, and
yet to say that he does not justly deserve it, is a contra
diction; and if he justly deserves it, then it may be justly
inflicted. Every crime or fault deserves a greater or less punish
ment, in proportion as the crime itself is greater or less.
If any fault deserves punishment, then so much the greater
the fault, so much the greater is the punishment deserved.
The faulty nature of any thing is the formal ground and
reason of its desert of punishment ; and therefore the
more any thing hath of this nature, the more punishment it
deserves. And therefore the terribleness of the degree of
punishment, let it be never so terrible, is no argument
against the justice of it, if the proportion does but hold be
tween the heinousness of the crime and the dreadfulness of
the punishment; so that if there be any such thing as a
fault infinitely heinous, it will follow that it is just to in
flict a punishment for it that is infinitely dreadful.
A crime is more or less heinous, according as we are
under greater or less obligations to the contrary. This is
self-evident; because it is herein that the criminalness or
faultiness of any thing consists, that it is contrary to what
we are obliged or bound to, or what ought to be in us. So
the faultiness of one being hating another, is in proportion
to his obligation to love him. The crime of one being
despising and casting contempt on another, is proportion
ably more or less heinous, as he was under greater or less
obligations to honour him. The fault of disobeying
another, is greater or less, as any one is under greater or less
obligations to obey him. And therefore if there be any
being that we are under infinite obligations to love, and
honour, and obey, the contrary towards him must be in
finitely faulty.
Our obligation to love, honour, and obey any being, is
in proportion to his loveliness, honourableness, and au
thority ; for that is the very meaning of the words. When
we say any one is very lovely, it is the same as to say, that
he is one very much to be loved. Or if we say such a one
is more honourable than another, the meaning of the words
is, that he is one that we are more obliged to honour. If
we say any one has great authority over us, it is the same
as to say, that he has great right to our subjection and
obedience. But God is a being infinitely lovely, because he hath
infinite excellency and tieauty. To have infinite excel
lency and beauty, is the same thing as to have infinite
loieliness. He is a being of infinite greatness, majesty,

and glory ; and therefore he is infinitely honourable. He
is infinitely exalted above the greatest potentates of the
earth, and highest angels in heaven; and therefore he is
infinitely more honourable than they. His authority over
us is infinite ; and the ground of his right to our obedience
is infinitely strong ; for he is infinitely worthy to be obeyed
himself, and we have an absolute, universal, and infinite
dependence upon him.
So that sin against God, being a violation of infinite
obligations, must be a crime infinitely heinous, and so de
serving infinite punishment. — Nothing is more agreeable to
the common sense of mankind, than that sins committed
against any one, must be proportionably heinous to the
dignity of the being offended and abused ; as it is also
agreeable to the word of God, 1 Sam. ii. 25. " If one man
sin against another, the Judge shall judge him ;" (i. c.
shall judge him, and inflict a finite punishment, such as
finite judges can inflict;) " but if a man sin against the
Lord, who shall entreat for him ?" This was the aggrava
tion of sin that made Joseph afraid of it, Gen. xxxix. 9.
" How shall I commit this great wickedness, and sin
against God?" This was the aggravation of David's sin,
in comparison of which he esteemed all others as nothing,
because they were infinitely exceeded by it. Psalm li. 4.
" Against thee, thee only have I sinned.— The eternity of
the punishment of ungodly men renders it infinite : and it
renders it no more than infinite ; and therefore renders no
more than proportionable to the heinousness of what they
are guilty of.
If there be any evil or faultiness in sin against God,
there is certainly infinite evil : for if it be any fault at all,
it has an infinite aggravation, viz. that it is against an in
finite object. If it be ever so small upon other accounts,
yet ifit be any thing, it has one infinite dimension ; and so
is an infinite evil. Which may be illustrated by this : if
we suppose a thing to have infinite length, but no breadth
and Tthickness, (a mere mathematical line,) it is nothing :
but if it have any breadth and thickness, though never so
small, and infinite length, the quantity of it is infinite ; it
exceeds the quantity of any thing, however broad, thick,
and long, wherein these dimensions are all finite.
So that the objections made against the infinite punish
ment of sin, from the necessity, or rather previous cer
tainty, of the futurition of sin, arising from the unavoidable
original corruption of nature, if they argue any thing, argue
against any faultiness at all : for if this necessity or cer
tainty leaves any evil at all in sin, that fault must be in
finite by reason of the infinite object.
But every such objector as would argue from hence, that
there is no fault at all in sin, confutes himself, and shows
his own insincerity in his objection. For at the same time
that he objects, that men's acts are necessary, and that this
kind of necessity is inconsistent with faultiness in the act,
his own practice shows that he does not believe what he
objects to be true : otherwise why does he at all blame
men ? Or why are such persons at all displeased with
men, for abusive, injurious, and ungrateful acts towards
them ? Whatever they pretend, by this they show that in
deed they do believe that there is nonecessity in men's acts
that is inconsistent with blame. And if their objection be
this, that this previous certainty is by God's own ordering,
and that where God orders an antecedent certainty of acts,
he transfers all the fault from the actor on himself; their
practice shows, that at the same time they do not believe
this, but fully believe the contrary : for when they are
abused by men, they are displeased with men, and not with
God only.
The light of nature teaches all mankind, that when an
injury is'voluntary, it is faulty, without any consideration
of what there might be previously to determine the fu
turition of that evil act of the will. And it really teaches
this as much to those that object and cavil most as to
others; as their universal practice shows. By which it
appears, that such objections are insincere and perverse.
Men will mention others' corrupt nature when they are
injured, as a thing that aggravates their crime, and that
wherein their faultiness partly consists. How common is
it for persons, when they look on themselves greatly in
jured by another, to inveigh against him, and aggravate
his baseness, by saying, " He is a man of a most per-

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verse spirit : he is naturally of a selfish, niggardly, or proud
and haughty temper : he is one of a base and vile dispo
sition." And yet men's natural and corruptdispositions are
mentioned as an excuse for them, with respect to their sins
against God, as if they rendered them blameless.
2. That it is just with God eternally to cast off wicked
men, may more abundantly appear, if we consider how
much sin they are guilty of. From what has been already
said, it appears, that if men were guilty of sin but in one par
ticular, that is sufficient ground of their eternal rejection
and condemnation. ¦ If they are sinners, that is enough.
Merely this, might be sufficient to keep them from ever
lifting up their heads, and cause them to smite on their
breasts, with the publican that cried, " God be merciful to
me a sinner." But sinful men are full of sin ; principles
and acts of sin : their guilt is like great mountains, heaped
one upon another, till the pile is grown up to heaven.
They are totally corrupt, in every part, in all their facul
ties ; in all the principles of their nature, their understand
ings, and wills ; and in all their dispositions and affections.
Their heads, their hearts, are totally depraved ; all the
members of their bodies are only instruments of sin ; and
all their senses, seeing, hearing, tasting, &c are only inlets
and outlets of sin, channels of corruption. There is no
thing but sin, no good at all. Rom. vii. 18. " In me, that
is, in my flesh, dwells no good thing." There is all man
ner of wickedness. There are the seeds of the greatest and
blackest crimes. There are principles of all sorts of
wickedness against men ; and there is all wickedness
against God. There is pride ; there is enmity ; there is
contempt ; there is quarrelling ; there is atheism ; there
is blasphemy. There are these things in exceeding strength ;
the heart is under the power of them, is sold under sin,
and is a perfect slave to it. There is hard-heartedness,
hardness greater than that of a rock, or an adamant-stone.
There is obstinacy and perverseness, incorrigibleness and
inflexibleness in sin, that will not be overcome by threat
enings or promises, by awakenings or encouragements,
by judgments or mercies, neither by that which is terrify
ing nor that which is winning. The very blood of God
our Saviour will not win the heart of a wicked man.
And there are actual wickednesses without number or
measure. There'are breaches of every command,in thought,
word, and deed : a life full of sin ; days and nights filled
up with sin ; mercies abused and frowns despised ; mercy
and justice, and all the divine perfections, trampled on ;
and the honour of each person in the Trinity trod in the
dirt. Now if one sinful word or thought has so much evil
in it, as to deserve eternal destruction, how do they deserve
to be eternally cast off and destroyed, that are guilty of so
much sin !
II. If with man's sinfulness, we consider God's sovereign
ty, it may serve further to clear God's justice in the eternal
rejection and condemnation of sinners, from men's cavils
and objections. I shall not now pretend to determine
precisely, what things are, and what things are not, proper
acts and exercises of God's holy sovereignty ; but only,
that God's sovereignty extends to the following things.
1. That such is God's sovereign power and right, that he
is originally under no obligation to keep men from sinning ;
but may in his providence permit and leave them to sin.
He was not obliged to keep either angels or men from fall
ing. It is unreasonable to suppose, that God should be
obliged, if he makes a reasonable creature capable of
knowing his will, and receiving a law from him, and being
subject to his moral government, at the same time to make
it impossible for him to sin, or break his law. For if God
be obliged to this, it destroys all use of any commands,
laws, promises, or threatenings, and the very notion of any
moral government of God over those reasonable creatures.
For to what purpose would it be, for God to give such
and such laws, and declare his holy will to a creature, and
annex promises and threatenings to move him to his duty,
and make him careful to perform it, if the creature at the
same time has this to think of, that God is obliged to make
it impossible for him to break his laws ? How can God's
threatenings move to care or watchfulness, when, at the
same time, God is obliged to render it impossible that he
should be exposed to the threatenings .' Or, to what pur
pose is it for God to give a law at all ? For according to

this supposition, it is God, and not the creature, that is
under law. It is the lawgiver's care, and not the sub
ject's, to see that his law is obeyed ; and this care is what
the lawgiver is absolutely obliged to ! If God be obliged
never to permit a creature to fall, there is an end of all divine
laws, or government, or authority of God over the crea
ture ; there can be no manner of use of these things.
God may permit sin, though the being of sin will cer
tainly ensue on that permission : and so, by permission,
he may dispose and order the event. If there were any
such thing as chance, or mere contingence, and the very
notion of it did not carry a gross absurdity, (as might
easily be shown that it does,) it would have been very un
fit that God should have left it to mere chance, whether
man should fall or no. For chance, if there should be any
such thing, is undesigning and blind. And certainly it is
more fit that an event of so great importance, and which is
attended with such an infinite train of great consequences,
should be disposed and ordered by infinite wisdom, than
that it shouid be left to blind chance.
If it be said, that God need not have interposed to ren
der it impossible for man to sin, and yet not leave it to
mere contingence or blind chance neither ; but might have
left it with man's free will, to determine whether to sin or
no : I answer, if God did leave it to man's free will, with
out any sort of disposal, or ordering [or rather, adequate
cause] in the case, whence it should be previously certain
how that free will should determine, then still that first
determination of the will must be merely contingent or by
chance. It could not have any antecedent act of the will
to determine it ; for I speak now of the very first act or
motion of the will, respecting the affair that may be look
ed upon as the prime ground and highest source of the
event. To suppose this to be determined by a foregoing
act is a contradiction. God's disposing this determination
of the will by his permission, does not at all infringe the
liberty of the creature. It is in no respect any more in
consistent with liberty, than mere chance or contingence.
For if the determination of the will be from blind, unde
signing chance, it is no more from the agent himself, or
from the will itself, than if we suppose, in the case, a wise,
divine disposal by permission.
2. It was fit that it should be at the ordering of the
divine wisdom and good pleasure, whether every particu
lar man should stand for himself, or whether the first
father of mankind should be appointed as the moral and
federal head and representative of the rest. If God has not
liberty in this matter to determine either of these two as
he pleases, it must be because determining that the first
father of men should represent the rest, and not that every
one should stand for himself, is injurious to mankind. For
if it be not injurious, how is it unjust ? But it is not in
jurious to mankind ; for there is nothing in the nature of
the case itself, that makes it better that each man should
stand for himself, than that all should be represented by
their common father ; as the least reflection or considera
tion will convince any one. And if there be nothing in
the nature of the thing that makes the former better for
mankind than the latter, then it will follow, that they are
not hurt in God's choosing and appointing the latter, rather
than the former ; or, which is the same thing, that it is not
injurious to mankind.
3. When men are fallen, and become sinful, God by
his sovereignty has a right to determine about their re
demption as he pleases. He has a right to determine
whether he will redeem any or not. He might, if he had
pleased, have left all to perish, or might have redeemed
all. Or, he may redeem some, and leave others ; and if
he doth so, he may take whom he pleases, and leave whom
he pleases. To suppose that all have forfeited his favour,
and deserved to perish, and to suppose that he may not
leave any one individual of them to perish, implies a con
tradiction ; because it supposes that such a one has a
claim to God's favour, and is not justly liable to perish ;
which is contrary to the supposition.
It is meet that God should order all these things accord
ing to his own pleasure. By reason of his greatness and
glory, by which he is infinitely above all, he is worthy to
be sovereign, and that his pleasure should in all things
take place. He is worthy that he should make himself

Disc. IV.

THE JUSTICE OF GOD.

671

his end, and that he should make nothing but' his own
wisdom his rule in pursuing that end, without asking
leave or counsel of any, and without giving account of
any of his matters. It is fit that he who is absolutely
perfect, and infinitely wise, and the Fountain of all wisdom,
should determine every thing [that he effects] by his own
will, even things of the greatest importance. It is meet
that he should be thus sovereign, because he is the first
being, the eternal being, whence all other beings are. He
is the Creator of all things ; and all are absolutely and
universally dependent on him ; and therefore it is meet
that he should act as the sovereign possessor of heaven
and earth.

APPLICATION.
In the improvement of this doctrine, I would chiefly
direct myself to sinners who are afraid of damnation, in a
use of conviction. This may be matter of conviction to you,
that it would be just and righteous with God eternally to
reject and destroy you. This is what you are in danger of.
You who are a Christless sinner, are a poor condemned
creature : God's wrath still abides upon you ; and the
sentence of condemnation lies upon you. You are in
God's hands, and it is uncertain what he will do with you.
You are afraid what will become of you. You are afraid
that it will be your portion to suffer eternal burnings ; and
your fears are not without grounds ; you have reason to
tremble every moment. But be you never so much afraid
of it, let eternal damnation be never so dreadful, yet it is
just. God may nevertheless do it, and be righteous, and
holy, and glorious. Though eternal damnation be what
you cannot bear, and how much soever your heart shrinks
at the thoughts of it, yet God's justice may be glorious in
it. The dreadfulness of the thing on your part, and the
greatness of your dread of it, do not render it the less
righteous on God's part. If you think otherwise, it is a
sign that you do not see yourself, that you are not sensible
what sin is, nor how much of it you have been guilty of.
Therefore for your conviction, be directed,
First, To look over your past life : inquire at the mouth
of conscience, and hear what that has to testify concerning
it. Consider what you are, what light you have had, and
what means you have lived under : and yet how you have
behaved yourself ! What have those many days and nights
you have lived been filled up with ? How have those years
that have rolled over your heads, one after another, been
spent ? What has the sun shone upon you for, from day
to day, while you have improved his light to serve Satan
by it ? What has God kept your breath in your nostrils
for, and given you meat and drink, that you have spent
your life and strength, supported by them, in opposing
God, and rebellion against him ?
How many sorts of wickedness have you not been guilty
of ! How manifold have been the abominations of your life !
What profaneness and contempt of God has been exercised
by you ! How little regard have you had to the Scriptures,
to the word preached, to sabbaths, and sacraments ! How
profanely have you talked, many of you, about those
things that are holy ! After what manner have many of
you kept God's holy day, not regarding the holiness of
the time, nor caring what you thought of in it ! Yea, you
have not only spent the time in worldly, vain, and unpro
fitable thoughts, but immoral thoughts ; pleasing yourself
with the reflection on past aits of wickedness, and in con
triving new acts. Have not you spent much holy time in
gratifying your lusts in your imaginations ; yea, not only
holy time, but the very time of God's public worship,
when you have appeared in God's more immediate pre
sence ? How have you not only not attended to the wor
ship, but have in the mean time been feasting your lusts,
and wallowing yourself in abominable uncleanness ! How
many sabbaths have you spent, one after another, in a
most wretched manner ! Some of you not only in worldly
and wicked thoughts, but also a very wicked outward be
haviour ! When you on sabbath-days have got along with
your wicked companions, how has holy time been treated
among you ! What kind of conversation has there been !
Yea, how have some of you, by a very indecent carriage,

openly dishonoured and cast contempt on tlie sacred
services of God's house, and holy day ! And what you
have done some of you alone, what wicked practices there
have been in secret, even in holy time, God and your own
consciences know.
And how have you behaved yourself in the time of
family prayer ! And what a trade have many of you made
of absenting yourselves from the worship of the families
you belong to, for the sake of vain company ! And how
have you continued in the neglect of secret prayer ! there
in wilfully living in a known sin, going abreast against as
plain a command as any in the Bible ! Have you not been
one that has cast off fear, and restrained prayer before
God? What wicked carriage have some of you been guilty of
towards your parents ! How far have you been from pay
ing that honour to them which God has required ! Have
you not even harboured ill-will and malice towards them ?
and when they have displeased you, have wished evil to
them ? yea, and shown your vile spirit in your behaviour ?
and it is well if you have not mocked them behind their
backs ; and, like the accursed Ham and Canaan, as it
were, derided your parents' nakedness instead of covering
it, and hiding your eyes from it. Have not some of you
often disobeyed your parents, yea, and refused to be sub
ject to them ? Is it not a wonder of mercy and forbearance,
that the proverb has not before now been accomplished
on you, Prov. xxx. 17. " The eye that mocketh at his
father, and refuseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the
valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it?"
What revenge and malice have you been guilty of to
wards your neighbours ! How have you indulged this
spirit of the devil, hating others, and wishing evil to them,
rejoicing when evil befell them, and grieving at others'
prosperity, and lived in such a way for a long time !
Have not some of you allowed a passionate furious spirit,
and behaved yourselves in your anger more like wild
beasts than like Christians ?
What covetousness has been in many of you ! Such
has been your inordinate love of the world, and care about
the things of it, that it has taken up your heart ; you have
allowed no room for God and religion ; you have minded
the world more than your eternal salvation. For the
vanities of the world you have neglected reading, praying,
and meditation; for the things of the world you have
broken the sabbath ; for the world you have spent a great
deal of your time in quarrelling. For the world you have
envied and hated your neighbour ; for the world you have
cast God, and Christ, and heaven, behind your back ; for
the world you have sold your own soul. You have as it
were drowned your soul in worldly cares and desires ;
you have been a mere earth-worm, that is never in its ele
ment but when grovelling and buried in the earth.
How much of a spirit of pride has appeared in you,
which is in a peculiar manner the spirit and condemnation
of the devil ! How have some of you vaunted yourselves
in your apparel! others in their riches ! others in their
knowledge and abilities ! How has it galled you to see
others above you ! How much has it gone against the
grain for you to give others their due honour ! And how
have you shown your pride by setting up your wills in op
posing others, and stirring up and promoting division, and
a party spirit in public affairs.
How sensual have you been ! Are there not some here
that have debased themselves below the dignity of human
nature, by wallowing in sensual nlthiness, as swine in the
mire, or as filthy vermin feeding with delight on rotten
carrion ? What intemperance have some of you been
guilty of! How much of your precious time have you
spent away at the tavern, and in drinking companies, when
you ought to have been at home seeking God and your
salvation in your families and closets !
And what abominable laiciviousness have some of you
been guilty of ! How have you indulged yourself from
day to day, and from night to night, in all manner of un
clean imaginations ! Has not your soul been filled with
them, till it has become a hold of foul spirits, and a cage
of every unclean and hateful bird ? What foul-mouthed
persons have some of you been, often in lewd and las
civious talk and unclean songs, wherein were things not

672

FIVE DISCOURSES.

fit to be spoken ! And such company, where such conver
sation has been carried on, has been your delight. And
with what unclean acts and practices have you defiled
yourself! God and your own consciences know what
abominable lasciviousness you have practised in things
not fit to be named, when you have been alone ; when
you ought to have been reading, or meditating, or on your
knees before God in secret prayer. And how have vou
corrupted others, as well as polluted yourselves ! What
vile uncleanness have you practised in company ! What
abominations have you been guilty of in the dark ! Such
as the apostle doubtless had respect to in Eph. v. 12.
" For it is a shame even to speak of those things that are
done of them in secret." Some of you have corrupted
others, and done what in you lay to undo their souls, (if
you have not actually done it,) and by your vile practices
and example have made room for Satan, invited his pre
sence, and established his interest, in the town where you
have lived.
What lying have some of you been guilty of, especially
in your childhood ! And have not your heart and lips
often disagreed since you came to riper years ? What
fraud, and deceit, and unfaithfulness, nave many of you
practised in your own dealings with your neighbours, of
which your own heart is conscious, if you have not been
noted by others.
And how have some of you behaved yourselves in your
family relations ! How have you neglected your children's
souls ! And not only so, but have corrupted their minds
by your bad examples ; and instead of training them up
in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, have rather
brought them up in the devil's service !
How have some of you attended that sacred ordinance
of the Lord's supper without any manner of serious pre
paration, and in a careless slighty frame of spirits, and
chiefly to comply with custom! Have you not ventured
to put the sacred symbols of the body arid blood of Christ
into your mouth, while at the same time you lived in ways
of known sins, and intended no other than still to go on
in the same wicked practices ? And, it may be, have sat
at the Lord's table with rancour in your heart against some
of your brethren that you have sat therewith. You have
come even to that holy feast of love among God's children,
with the leaven of malice and envy in your heart ; and so
have eat and drank judgment to yourself.
What stupidity and sottishness has attended your course
of wickedness ; which has appeared in your obstinacy
under awakening dispensations of God's word and pro
vidence. And how have some of you backslidden after
you have set out in religion, and quenched God's Spirit
after he had been striving with you f And what unsteadi
ness, and slothfulness, and long misimprovement of God's
strivings with you, have you been chargeable with !
Now, can vou think when you have thus behaved your
self, that God is obliged to show you mercy ? Are vou not
after all this ashamed to talk of its being hard with God
to cast you off? Does it become one who has lived such
a life to open his mouth to excuse himself, to object
against God's justice in his condemnation, or to complain
of it as hard in God not to give him converting and par
doning grace, and make him his child , and bestow on him
eternal life ? or to talk of his duties and great pains in
religion, as if such performances were worthy to be ac
cepted, and to draw God's heart to such a creature ? If
this has been your manner, does it not show how little you
have considered yourself, and how little a sense you have
had of your own sinfulness ?
Secondly, Be directed to consider, if God should eter
nally reject and destroy you, what an agreeableness and
exact mutual answerableness there would be between God
so dealing with you, and your spirit and behaviour. There
would not only be an equality, but a similitude. God
declares, that his dealings with men shall be suitable to
their disposition and practice. Psalm xviii. 25, 26. "With
the merciful man, thou wilt show thyself merciful ; with
an upright man, thou wilt show thyself upright ; with
the pure, thou wilt show thyself pure; and with the
froward, thou wilt show thyself froward." How much
soever you dread damnation, and are affrighted and con
cerned at the thoughts of it ; yet if God should indeed

eternally damn you, you would be met with but in your
own way ; you would be dealt with exactly according to
your own dealing. Surely it is but fair that you should
be made to buy in the same measure in which you sell.
Here I would particularly show, — 1. That if God should
eternally destroy you, it would be agreeable to your treat
ment of God. 2. That it would be agreeable to your
treatment of Jesus Chnst. 3. That it would be agreeable
to your behaviour towards your neighbours. 4. That it
would be according to your own foolish behaviour towards
yourself. I. If God should for ever cast you off, it would be
exactly agreeable to your treatment of him. That you
may be sensible of this, consider,
1 . You never have exercised the least degree of love to
God ; and therefore it would be agreeable to your treat
ment of him if he should never express any love to you.
When God converts and saves a sinner, it is a wonderful
and unspeakable manifestation of divine love. When a
poor lost soul is brought home to Christ, and has all his
sins forgiven him, and is made a child of God, it will take
up a whole eternity to express and declare the greatness
of that love. And why should God be obliged to express
such wonderful love to you, who never exercised the least
degree of love to him in all, your life? You never have
loved God, who is infinitely glorious and lovely ; and
why then is God under obligation to love you, who are all
over deformed and loathsome as a filthy worm, or rather a
hateful viper ? You have no benevolence in your heart
towards God ; you never rejoiced in God's happiness ; if
he had been miserable, and that had been possible, you
would have liked it as well as if he were happy ; you
would not have cared how miserable he was, nor mourned
for it, any more than you now do for the devil's being
miserable. And why then should God be looked upon
as obliged to take so much care for your happiness, as to
do such great things for ft, as he doth for those that are
saved ? Or why should God be called hard, in case he
should not be careful to save you from misery ? You care
not what becomes of God's glory ; you are not distressed
how much soever his honour seems to suffer in the world :
and why should God care any more for your welfare ?
Has it not been so, that if you could but promote your
private interest, and gratify your own lusts, you cared not
how much the glory of God suffered ? And why may not
God advance his own glory in the ruin of your welfare,
not caring how much your interest suffers by it? You
never so much as stirred one step, sincerely making the
glory of God your end, or acting from real respect to him ;
and why then is it hard if God do not do such great things
for you, as the changing of your nature, raising you from
spiritual death to life, conquering the powers of darkness
for you, translating you out of the kingdom of darkness
into the kingdom of his dear Son, delivering you from
eternal misery, and bestowing upon you eternal glory ?
You were not willing to deny yourself for God ; you never
cared to put yourself out of your way for Christ ; when
ever any thing cross or difficult came in your way, that
the glory of God was concerned in, it has been your man
ner to shun it, and excuse yourself from it. You did not
care to hurt yourself for Christ, whom you did not see
worthy of it ; and why then must it be looked upon as a
hard and cruel thing, if Christ has not been pleased to
spill his blood and be tormented to death for such a sinner.
2. You have slighted God ; and why then may not God
justly slight vou ? When sinners are sensible in some
measure of their misery, they are ready to think it hard
that God will take no more notice of them ; that he will
see them in such a lamentable distressed condition, be
holding their burdens and tears, and seem to slight it, and
manifest no pitv to them. Their souls they think are pre
cious : it would be a dreadful thing if they should perish,
and burn in hell for ever. They do not see through it, that
God should make so light of their salvation. But then,
ought thev not to consider, that as their souls are precious,
so is God's honour precious ? The honour of the infinite
God, the great King of heaven and earth, is a thing of as
great importance, (and surely may justlv be so esteemed
by God,) as the happiness of you, a poor little worm. But
yet you have slighted that honour of God, and valued it

Disc. IV.

THE JUSTICE OF GOD.

673

no more than the dirt under your feet. You have been
told that such and such things were contrary to the will of
a holy God, and against his honour ; but you cared not
for that. God called upon you, and exhorted you to be
more tender of his honour ; but you went on without re
garding him. Thus have you slighted God ! And yet, is
it hard that God should slight you ? Are you more ho
nourable than God, that he must be obliged to make
much of you, how light soever you make of him and his
glory ?
And you have not only slighted God in time past, but
you slight him still. You indeed now make a pretence
and show of honouring him in your prayers, and attend
ance on other external duties, and by sober countenance,
and seeming devoutness in your words and behaviour ;
but it is all mere dissembling. That downcast look and
seeming reverence, is not from any honour you have to
God in your heart, though you would have God take it so.
You who have not believed in Christ, have not the least
jot of honour to God ; that show of it is merely forced,
and what you are driven to by fear, like those mentioned
in Psalm lxvi. 3. " Through the greatness of thy power
shall thine enemies submit themselves to thee." In the
original it is, " shall lie unto thee ;" that is, yield feigned
submission, and dissemble respect and honour to thee.
There is a rod held over you that makes you seem to pay
such respect to God. This religion and devotion, even
the very appearance of it, would soon be gone, and all
vanish away, if that were removed. Sometimes it may be
you weep in your prayers, and in your hearing sermons,
and hope God will take notice of it, and take it for some
honour ; but he sees it to be all hypocrisy. You weep for
yourself; you are afraid of hell ; and do you think that
that is worthy of God to take much notice of you, because
you can cry when you are in danger of being damned ;
when at the same time you indeed care nothing for God's
honour. Seeing you thus disregard so great a God, is it a heinous
thing for God to slight you, a little, wretched, despicable
creature ; a worm, a mere nothing, and less than nothing ;
a vile insect, that has risen up in contempt against the
Majesty of heaven and earth ?
3. Why should God be looked upon as obliged to
bestow salvation upon you, when you have been so un
grateful for the mercies he has bestowed upon you al
ready ? God has tried you with a great deal of kindness,
and he never has sincerely been thanked by you for any
of it. God has watched over you, and preserved you, and
provided for you, and followed you with mercy all your
days ; and yet you have continued sinning against him.
He has given you food and raiment, but you have im
proved both in the service of sin. He has preserved you
while you slept; but when you arose, it was to return to
the old trade of sinning. God, notwithstanding this in
gratitude, has still continued his mercy ; but his kindness
has never won your heart, or brought you to a more grate
ful behaviour towards him. It may be you have received
many remarkable mercies, recoveries from sickness, or
preservations of your life when exposed by accidents,
when if you had died, you would have gone directly to
hell ; but you never had any true thankfulness for any of
these mercies. God has kept you out of hell, and con
tinued your day of grace, and the offers of salvation, so
long a time ; while you did not regard your own salva
tion so much as in secret to ask God for it. And now
God has greatly added to his mercy to you, by giving you
the strivings of his Spirit, whereby a most precious oppor
tunity for your salvation is in your hands. But what
thanks has God received for it ?' What kind of returns
have you made for all this kindness ? As God has mul
tiplied mercies, so have you multiplied provocations.
And yet now are vou ready to quarrel for mercy, and to
find fault with God, not only that he does not bestow
more mercy, but to contend with him, because he does
not bestow infinite mercy upon you, heaven with all it
contains, and even himself, for your eternal portion. What
ideas have you of yourself, that" you think God is obliged
to do so much for you, though you treat him ever so un
gratefully for his kindness wherewith you have been fol
lowed all the days of your life.
vol. I. 2 x

4. You have voluntarily chosen to be with Satan in his
enmity and opposition to God ; how justly therefore might
you be with him in his punishment ! You did not choose
to be on God's side, but rather chose to side with the
devil, and have obstinately continued in it, against God's
often repeated calls and counsels. You have chosen
rather to hearken to Satan than to God, and would be with
him in his work. You have given yourself up to him, to
be subject to his power and government, in opposition to
God; how justly therefore may God also give you up to
him, and leave you in his power, to accomplish your ruin !
Seeing you have yielded yourself to his will, to do as he
would have you, surely God may leave you in his hands
to execute his will upon you. If men will be with God's
enemy, and on his side, why is God obliged to redeem
them out of his hands, when they have done his work ?
Doubtless you would he glad to serve the devil, and be
God's enemy while you live, and then to have God your
friend, and deliver you from the devil, when you come to
die. But will God be unjust if he deals otherwise by
you? No, surely! It will be altogether and perfectly
just, that you should have your portion with him with
whom you have chosen to work ; and that you should be
in his possession to whose dominion you have yielded
yourself; and if you cry to God for deliverance, he may
most justlv give you that answer, Judges x. 14. " Go to
the gods which you have chosen."
5. Consider how often you have refused to hear God's
calls to you, and how just it would therefore be, if he
should refuse to hear you when you call upon him. You
are ready, it may be, to complain that you have often
prayed, and earnestly begged of God to show you mercy,
and yet have no answer of prayer : One says, I have been
constant in prayer for so many years, and God has not
heard me. Another says, I have done what I can ; I have
prayed as earnestly as 1 am able ; I do not see how I can
do more ; and it will seem hard if after all I am denied.
But do you consider how often God has called, and you
have denied him ? God has called earnestly aud for a
longtime; he has called and called again in his word,
and in his providence, and you have refused. You was
not uneasy for fear you should not show regard enough to
his calls. You let him call as loud and as long as he
would ; for your part, you had no leisure to attend to
what he said ; you had other business to mind ; you had
these and those lusts to gratify and please, and worldly
concerns to attend ; you could not afford to stand con
sidering of what God had to say to you. When the
ministers of Christ have stood and pleaded with you, in
his name, sabbath after sabbath, and have even spent
their strength in it, how little was you moved ! It did not
alter you, but you went on still as you used to do ; when
you went away, you returned again to your sins, to your
lasciviousness, to your vain mirth, to your covetousness,
to your intemperance, and that has been the language of
your heart and practice, Exod. v. 2. " Who is the Lord,
that I should obey his voice ?" Was it no crime for you
to refuse to hear when God called ? And yet is it now
very hard that God does not hear your earnest calls, and
that though your calling on God be not from any respect
to him, but merely from self-love ? The devil would beg
as earnestly as you, if he had any hope to get salvation by
it, and a thousand times as earnestly, and yet be as much
of a devil as he is now. Are your calls more worthy to be
heard than God's ? Or is God more obliged to regard
what you say to him, than you to regard his commands,
counsels, and invitations to you? What can be more
justice than this, Prov. i. 24, &c. " Because I have called,
and ye refused, I have stretched out my hand, and no man
regarded ; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and
would none of my reproof : I will also laugh at your cala
mity, I will mock when your fear cometh ; when your fear
cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a
whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you.
Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they
shall seek me early, but they shall not find me."
6. Have you not taken encouragement to sin against God,
on that very presumption, that God would show you
mercy i\hen you sought it? And may not God justly re
fuse you that mercy that you have so presumed upon ?

674 You have flattered yourself, that though you did so, yet
God would show you mercy when you cried earnestly to
him for it : how righteous therefore would it be in God, to
disappoint such a wicked presumption ! It was upon that
very hope that you dared to affront the Majesty of heaven
so dreadfully as you have done ; and can you now be so
sottish as to think that God is obliged not to frustrate that
hope ?
When a sinner takes encouragement to neglect secret
praver which God has commanded, to gratify his lusts, to
live a carnal vain life, to thwart God, to run upon him, and
contemn him to his face, thinking with himself, " If I do
so, God would not damn me ; he is a merciful God, and
therefore when I seek his mercy he will bestow it upon
me ;" must God be accounted hard because he will not do
according to such a sinner's presumption ?
Cannot he be excused from showing such a sinner mercy
when he is pleased to seek it, without incurring the charge
of being unjust ; if this be the case, God has no liberty to
vindicate his own honour and majesty ; but must lay him
self open to all manner of affronts, and yield himself up to
the abuses of vile men, though they disobey, despise, and
dishonour him, as much as they will ; and when they have
done, his mercy and pardoning grace must not be in his
own power and at his own disposal, but he must be obliged
to dispense it at their call. He must take these bold and
vile contemners of his Majesty, when it suits them to ask
it, and must forgive all their sins, and not only so, but
must adopt them into his family, and make them his chil
dren, and bestow eternal glory upon them. What mean,
low, and strange thoughts have such men of God, who
think thus of him ! Consider, that you have injured God
the more, and have been the worse enemy to him, for his
being a merciful God. So have you treated that attribute
of God's mercy ! How just is it therefore that you never
should have any benefit of that attribute !
There is something peculiarly heinous in sinning against
the mercy of God more than other attributes. There is
such base and horrid ingratitude, in being the worse to
God because he is a being of infinite goodness and grace,
that it above all things renders wickedness vile and detest
able. This ought to win us, and engage us to serve God
better ; but instead of that, to sin against him the more,
has something inexpressibly bad in it, and does in a pecu
liar manner enhance guilt, and incense wrath ; as seems to
be intimated, Rom. ii. 4, 5. " Or despisest thou the riches
of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering ; not
knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repent
ance ? But after thy hardness and impenitent heart,
treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath,
and revelation ofthe righteous judgment of God."
The greater the mercy of God is, the more should you
be engaged to love him, and live to his glory. But it has
been contrariwise with you ; the consideration of the mer
cies of God being so exceeding great, is the thing where
with you have encouraged yourself in sin. You have
heard that the mercy of God was without bounds, that it
was sufficient to pardon the greatest sinner, and you have
upon that very account ventured to be a very great sinner.
Though it was very offensive to God, though you heard
that God infinitely hated sin, and that such practices as
you went on in were exceeding contrary to his nature, will,
and glory, yet that did not make you uneasy ; you heard
that he was a very merciful God, and had grace enough to
pardon you, and so cared not how offensive your sins were
to him. How long have some of you gone on in sin, and
what great sins have some of you been guilty of, on that
presumption ! Your own conscience can give testimony
to it, that this has made you refuse God's calls, and has
made you regardless of his repeated commands. Now,
how righteous would it be if God should swear in his
wrath, that you should never be the better for his being in
finitely merciful !
Your ingratitude has been the greater, that you have not
only abused the attribute of God's mercy, taking en
couragement from it to continue in sin, but you have also
presumed that God would exercise infinite mercy to you
in particular ; which consideration should have especially
endeared God to you. You have taken encouragement to
sin the more, from that consideration, that Christ came

FIVE DISCOURSES.

into the world and died to save sinners; such thanks has
Christ had from you, for enduring such a tormenting death
for his enemies 1 Now, how justly might God refuse that
you should ever be the better for his Son's laying down his
life ! It was because of these things that you put off seek
ing salvation. You would take the pleasures of sin still
longer, hardening yourself because mercy was infinite, and
it would not be too late, if you sought it afterwards ; now,
how justly may God disappoint you in this, and so order
it that it shall be too late.
7. How have some of you risen up against God, and in
the frame of your minds opposed him in his sovereign dis
pensations ! And how justly upon that account might
God oppose you, and set himself against you ! You never
yet would submit to God ; never willingly comply, that God
should have dominion over the world, and that he should
govern it for his own glory, according to his own wisdom.
You, a poor worm, a potsherd, a broken piece of an earth
en vessel, have dared to find fault and quarrel with God.
Isaiah xiv. 9. " Woe to him that strives with his Maker.
Let the potsherd strive with the potsherds of the earth :
shall the clay say to him that fashioned it, What makest
thou ?" But yet you have ventured to do it. Rom. ix. 20.
" Who art thou, O man, that repliest against God ?" But
yet you have thought you was big enough ; you have taken
upon you to call God to an account, why he does thus and
thus; you have said to Jehovah, What dost thou?
If you have been restrained by fear from openly venting
your opposition and enmity of heart against God's govern
ment, yet it has been in you ; you have not been quiet in
the frame of your mind ; you have had the heart of a viper
within, and have been ready to spit your venom at God.
It is well if sometimes you have not actually done it, by
tolerating blasphemous thoughts and malignant risings of
heart against him ; yea, and the frame of your heart in some
measure appeared in impatient and fretful behaviour. —
Now, seeing you have thus opposed God, how just is it
that God should oppose you ! Or is it because you are so
much better, and so much greater than God, that it is a
crime for him to make that opposition against you which
you make against him ? Do you think that the liberty of
making opposition is your exclusive prerogative, so that
you may be an enemy to God, but God must by no means
be an enemy to you, but must be looked upon under
obligation nevertheless to help you, and save you by his
blood, and bestow his best blessings upon you 1
Consider how in the frame of your mind you have thwart
ed God in those very exercises of mercy towards others that
you are seeking for yourself. God exercising his infinite
grace towards your neighbours, has put you into an ill
frame, and it may be, set you in a tumult of mind. How
justly therefore may God refuse ever to exercise that mercy
towards you ! Have you not thus opposed God showing
mercy to others, even at the very time when you pretended
to be earnest with God for pity and help for yourself?
yea, and while you was endeavouring to get something
wherewith to recommend yourself to God ? And will you
look to God still with a challenge of mercy, and contend
with him for it notwithstanding? Can you who have such
a heart, and have thus behaved yourself, come to God for
any other than mere sovereign mercy ?
II. If you should for ever be cast off by God, it would
be agreeable to your treatment of Jesus Christ. It would
have been just with God if he had cast you off for ever,
without ever making you the offer of a Saviour. But God
hath not done that ; he has provided a Saviour for sin
ners, and offered him to you, even his own Son Jesus
Christ, who is the only Saviour of men. All that are not
forever cast off are saved by him. God offers men salva
tion through him, and has promised us, that if we come to
him, we shall not be cast off. But if you have treated,
and still treat, this Saviour after such a manner, that if you
should be eternally cast off by God, it would be most
agreeable to your behaviour towards him ; which appears
by this, viz. " That you reject Christ, and will not have him
for your Saviour."
If God offers you a Saviour from deserved punishment,
and you will not receive him, then surely it is just that
you should go without a Saviour. Or is God obliged,
because you do not like this Saviour, to provide you an-

Disc. IV.

THE JUSTICE OF GOD.

675

other ? He has given an infinitely honourable and glorious
person, even his only-begotten Son, to be a sacrifice for
sin, and so provided salvation ; and this Saviour is offered
to you : now if you refuse to accept him, is God therefore
unjust if he does not save you ? Is he obliged to save
you in a way of your own choosing, because you do not
like the way of hit choosing ? Or will you charge Christ
with injustice because he does not become your Saviour,
when at the same time you will not have him when he
offers himself to you, and beseeches you to accept of him
as your Saviour ?
I am sensible that by this time many persons are ready
to object against this. If all should speak what they now
think, we should hear a murmuring all over the meeting
house, and one and another would say, " I cannot see
how this can be, that I am not willing that Christ should
be my Saviour, when I would give all the world that he
was my Saviour : how is it possible that I should not be
willing to have Christ for my Saviour, when this is what
I am seeking after, and praying for, and striving for, as
for my life ?"
Here therefore I would endeavour to convince you, that
you are under a gross mistake in this matter. And, 1st, I
would endeavour to show the grounds of your mistake.
And, Idly, To demonstrate to you, that you have rejected,
and do wilfully reject, Jesus Christ.
1st, That you may see the weak grounds of your mis
take, consider,
1. There is a great deal of difference between a will
ingness not to be damned, and a being willing to receive
Christ for your Saviour. You have the former ; there is
no doubt of that : nobody supposes that you love misery
so as to choose an eternity of it ; and so doubtless you
are willing to be saved from eternal misery. But that is
a very different thing from being willing to come to
Christ : persons very commonly mistake the one for the
other, but they are quite two things. You may love the
deliverance, but hate the deliverer. You tell of a willing
ness ; but consider what is the object of that willingness.
It does not respect Christ ; the way of salvation by him is
not at all the object of it ; but it is wholly terminated on
your escape from misery. The inclination of your will goes
no further than self, it never reaches Christ. You are will
ing not to be miserable ; that is, you love yourself, and there
your will and choice terminate. And it is but a vain pre
tence and delusion to say or think, that you are willing to
accept of Christ.
2. There is certainly a great deal of difference between
a forced compliance and a free willingness. Force and
freedom cannot consist together. Now that willingness,
whereby you think you are willing to have Christ for a
Saviour, is merely a forced thing. Your heart does not go
out after Christ of itself, but you are forced and driven to
seek an interest in him. Christ has no share at all in
your heart ; there is no manner of closing of the heart with
nim. This forced compliance is not what Christ seeks of
you ; he seeks a free and willing acceptance, Psalm ex. 3.
" Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power."
He seeks not that you should receive him against your
will, but with a free will. He seeks entertainment in your
heart and choice.  And if you refuse thus to receive
Christ, how just is it that Christ should refuse to receive
you ! ¦ How reasonable are Christ's terms, who offers to
save all those that willingly, or with a good will, accept of
him for their Saviour ! Who can rationally expect that
Christ should force himself upon any man to be his Sa
viour ? Or what can be looked for more reasonable, than
that all who would be saved by Christ, should heartily
and freely entertain him ? And surely it would be very
dishonourable for Christ to offer himself upon lower terms.
— But I would now proceed,
Idly, To show that you are not willing to have Christ for
a Saviour. To convince you of it, consider,
1. How it is possible that you should be willing to ac
cept of Christ as a Saviour from the desert of a punish
ment that you are not sensible you have deserved. If you
are truly willing to accept of Christ as a Saviour, it must
be as a sacrifice to make atonement for your guilt. Christ
came into the world on this errand, to offer himself as an
atonement, to answer for our desert of punishment. But
2x2

how can you be willing to have Christ for a Saviour from
a desert of hell, if you be not sensible that you have a
desert of hell ? If you have not really deserved everlast
ing burnings in hell, then the very offer of an atonement
for such a desert is an imposition upon you. If you have
no such guilt upon you, then the very offer of a satisfac
tion for that guilt is an injury, because it implies in it a
charge of guilt that you are free from. Now therefore it is
impossible that a man who is not convinced of his guilt
can be willing to accept of such an offer ; because he can
not be willing to accept the charge which the offer im
plies.. A man who is not convinced that he has deserved
so dreadful a punishment, cannot willingly submit to be
charged with it. If he thinks he is willing, it is but a
mere forced, feigned business ; because in his heart he
looks upon himself greatly injured ; and therefore he
cannot freely accept of Christ, under that notion of a Sa
viour from the desert of such a punishment ; for such an
acceptance is an implicit owning that he does deserve such
a punishment.. I do not say, but that men may be willing to be saved
from an undeserved punishment ; they may rather not
suffer it than suffer it. But a man cannot be willing to
accept one at God's hands, under the notion of a Saviour
from a punishment deserved from him which he thinks he
has not deserved ; it is impossible that any one should
freely allow a Saviour under that notion.' Such an one
cannot like the way of salvation by Christ ; for if he
thinks he has not deserved hell, then he will think that
freedom from hell is a debt ; and therefore cannot will
ingly and heartily receive it as a free gift. — If a king
should condemn a man to some tormenting death, which
the condemned person thought himself not deserving of,
but looked upon the sentence as unjust and cruel, and the
king, when the time of execution drew nigh, should offer
him his pardon, under the notion of a very great act of
grace and clemency, the condemned person never could
willingly and heartily allow it under that notion, because
he judged himself unjustly condemned.
Now by this it is evident that you are not willing to
accept of Christ as your Saviour ; because you never yet
had such a sense of your own sinfulness, and such a con
viction of your great guilt in God's sight, as to be indeed
convinced that you lay justly condemned to the punish
ment of hell. You never was convinced that you had
forfeited all favour, and was in God's hands, and at his
sovereign and arbitrary disposal, to be either destroyed or
saved, just as he pleased. You never yet was convinced
of the sovereignty of God. Hence are there so many ob
jections arising against the justice of your punishment
from original sin, and from God's decrees, from mercy
shown to others, and the like.
2. That you are not sincerely willing to accept of Christ
as your Saviour, appears by this, That you never have
been convinced that he is sufficient for the work of your
salvation. You never had a sight or sense of any such
excellency or worthiness in Christ, as should give such
great value to his blood and his mediation with God, as
that it was sufficient to be accepted for such exceeding
guilty creatures, who have so provoked God, and exposed
themselves to such amazing wrath. Saying it is so, and
allowing it to be as others say, is a very different thing
from being really convinced of it, and a being made sen
sible of it in your own heart. The sufficiency of Christ
depends upon, or rather consists in, his excellency. It is
because he is so excellent a person that his blood is of
sufficient value to atone for sin, and it is hence that his
obedience is so worthy in God's sight ; it is also hence
that his intercession is so prevalent ; and therefore those
that never had any spiritual sight or sense of Christ's
excellency, cannot be sensible of his sufficiency.
And that sinners are not convinced that Christ is suffi
cient for the work he has undertaken, appears most mani
festly when they are under great convictions of their sin,
and danger of God's wrath. Though it may be before
they thought they could allow Christ to be sufficient, (for
it is easy to allow any one to be sufficient for our defence
at a time when we see no danger,) yet when they come to
be sensible of their guilt and God's wrath, what discou
raging thoughts do they entertain ! How are they ready to

676

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draw towards despair, as if there were no hope or help for
such wicked creatures as they ! Tlie reason is, They have
no apprehension or sense of any other way that God's
majesty can be vindicated, but only in their misery. To
tell them of the blood of Christ signifies nothing, it does
not relieve their sinking, despairing hearts. This makes it
most evident that they are not convinced that Christ is
sufficient to be their Mediator. — And as long as they are
unconvinced of this, it is impossible they should be will
ing to accept of him as their Mediator and Saviour. A
man in distressing fear will not willingly betake himself
to a fort that he judges not sufficient to defend him from
the enemy. A man will not willingly venture out into the
ocean in a ship that he suspects is leaky, and will sink
before he gets through his voyage.
3. It is evident that you are not willing to have Cnrist
for your Saviour, because you have so mean an opinion of
him, that you durst not trust his faithfulness. One that
undertakes to be the Saviour of souls had need be faithful ;
for if he fails in such a trust, how great is the loss ! But
you are not convinced of Christ's faithfulness ; as is evi
dent, because at such times as when you are in a con
siderable measure sensible of your guilt and God's anger,
you cannot be convinced that Christ is willing to accept
of you, or that he stands ready to receive you, if you
should come to him, though Christ so much invites you to
come to him. and has so fully declared that he will not
Teject you, if you do come ; as particularly, John vi. 37.
" Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out."
Now, there is no man can be heartily willing to trust his
eternal welfare in the hands of an unfaithful person, or one
whose faithfulness he suspects.
4. You are not willing to be saved in that way by
Christ, as is evident, because you are not willing that
your own goodness should be set at nought. In the way
of salvation by Christ men's own goodness is wholly set
at nought ; there is no account at all made of it. Now
you cannot be willing to be saved in a way wherein your
own goodness is set at nought, as is evident, since you
make much of it yourself. You make much of your
prayers and pains m religion, and are often thinking of
them ; how considerable do they appear to you, when you
look back upon them ! And some of you are thinking how
much more you have done than others, and expecting
some respect or regard that God should manifest to what
you do. Now, if you make so much of what you do your
self, it is impossible that you should be freely willing that
God should make nothing of it. As we may see in other
things ; if a man is proud of a great estate, or if he values
himself much upon his honourable office, or his great
abilities, it is impossible that he should like it, and
heartily approve of it, that others should make light of
these things and despise them. .
Seeing therefore it is so evident, that you refuse to
accept of Christ as your Saviour, why is "Christ to be
blamed that he does not save you ? Christ has offered
himself to you to be your Saviour in time past, and he
continues offering himself still, and you continue to reject
him, and yet complain that he does not save you. — So
strangely unreasonable, and inconsistent with themselves,
are gospel sinners !
But I expect there are many of you that still object.
Such an objection as this, is probably now in the hearts of
many here present.
Object. If I am not willing to have Christ for my
Saviour, I cannot make myself willing. — But I would
give an answer to this objection by laying down two
things, that must be acknowledged to be exceeding
evident. 1 . It is no excuse, that you cannot receive Christ of
yourself, unless you would if you could. This is so evi
dent of itself, that it scarce needs any proof. Certainly if
persons would not if they could, it is just the same thing
as to the blame that lies upon them, whether they can or
cannot. If you were willing, and then found that you
could not, your being unable would alter the case, and
might be some excuse ; because then the defect would not
be in your will, but only in your ability. But as long as
you will not, it is no matter, whether you have ability or
ho ability.

If you are not willing to accept of Christ, it follows that
you nave no sincere willingness to be willing ; because the
will always necessarily approves of and rests in its own
acts. To suppose the contrary would be to suppose a
contradiction ; it would be to suppose that a man's will is
contrary to itself, or that he wills contrary to what he him
self wills. As you are not willing to come to Christ, and
cannot make yourself willing, so you have no sincere desire
to be willing ; and therefore may most justly perish with
out a Saviour. There is no excuse at all for you ; for say
what you will about your inability, the seat of your blame
lies in your perverse will, that is an enemy to the Saviour.
It is in vain for you to tell of your want of power, as long
as your will is found defective. If a man should hate
you, and smite you in the face, but should tell you at th.
same time, that he hated you so much, that he could not
help choosing and willing so to do, would you take it the
more patiently for that ? Would not your indignation be
rather stirred up the more ?
2. If you would be willing if you could, that is no
excuse, unless your willingness to be willing be sincere.
That which is hypocritical, and does not come from the
heart, but is merely forced, ought wholly to be set aside,
as worthy of no consideration; because common sense
teaches, that what is not hearty, but hypocritical, is indeed
nothing, being only a show of what is not ; but that which
is good for nothing, ought to go for nothing. But if you
set aside all that is not free, and call nothing a willingness,
but a free hearty willingness, then see how the case stands,
and whether or no you have not lost all your excuse for
standing out against the calls of the gospel. You say you
would make yourself willing to accept if you could ; but
it is not from any good principle that you are willing for
that. It is not from any free inclination, or true respect
to Christ, or any love to your duty, or any spirit of obedi
ence. It is not from the influence of any real respect, or
tendency in your heart, towards any thing good, or from
any other principle than such as is in the hearts of devils,
and would make thein have the same sort of willingness
in the same circumstances. It is therefore evident, that
there can be no goodness in that would be willing to come
to Christ : and that which has no goodness, cannot be an
excuse for any badness. If there be no good in it, then it
signifies nothing, and weighs nothing, when put into the
scales to counterbalance that which is bad.
Sinners therefore spend their time in foolish arguing and
objecting, making much of that which is good for nothing,
making those excuses that are not worth offering. It is in
vain to keep making objections. You stand justly con
demned. The blame lies at your door : Thrust it off from
you as often as you will, it will return upon you. Sew
fig-leaves as long as you will, your nakedness will appear.
You continue wilfully and wickedly rejecting Jesus
Christ, and will not have him for your Saviour, and
therefore it is sottish madness in you to charge Christ
with injustice that he does not save you.
Here is the sin of unbelief ! Thus the guilt of that great
sin lies upon you ! If you never had thus treated a Saviour,
you might most justly have been damned to all eternity :
it would but be exactly agreeable to your treatment of
God. But besides this, when God, notwithstanding, has
offered you his own dear Son, to save you from this end
less misery you had deserved, and not only so, but to
make you happy eternally in the enjoyment of himself,
you have refused him, and would not have him for your
Saviour, and still refuse to comply with the offers of the
gospel ; what can render any person more inexcusable ?
If you should now perish for ever, what can you have to
say"? '
Hereby the justice of God in your destruction appears
in two respects :
1. It is more abundantly manifest that it is just that
you should be destroyed. Justice never appears so con
spicuous as it does after refused and abused mercy. Jus
tice in damnation appears abundantly the more clear and
bright, after a wilful rejection of offered salvation. What
can an offended prince do more than freely offer pardon
to a condemned malefactor ? And if he refuses to accept
of it, will any one say that his execution is unjust ?
2. God's justice will appear in your greater destruction.

Disc IV.

THE JUSTICE OF GOD.

677

Besides the guilt that you would have had if a Saviour
never had been offered. You bring that great additional
guilt upon you, of most ungratefully refusing offered
deliverance. What more base and vile treatment of God
can there be, than for you, when justly condemned to
eternal misery, and ready to be executed, and God gra
ciously sends his own Son, who comes and knocks at
your door with a pardon in his hand, and not only a
pardon, but a deed of eternal glory ; I say, what can be
worse, than for you, out of dislike and enmity against God
and his Son, to refuse to accept those benefits at his
hands? How justly may the anger of God be greatly
incensed and increased by it ! when a sinner thus ungrate
fully rejects mercy, his last error is worse than the first ;
this is more heinous than all his former rebellion, and may
justly bring down more fearful wrath upon him.
The heinousness of this sin of rejecting a Saviour espe
cially appears in two things :
1. The greatness of the Denefits offered : which appears
in the greatness of the deliverance, which is from inex
pressible degrees of corruption and wickedness of heart
and life, the least degree of which is infinitely evil ; and
from misery that is everlasting ; and in the greatness and
glory of the inheritance purchased and offered. Heb. ii. 3.
" How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation."
2. The wonderfulness of the way in which these benefits
are procured and offered. That God should lay help on
his own Son, when our case was so deplorable that help
could be had in no mere creature ; and that he should
undertake for us, and should come into the world, and
take upon him our nature, and should not only appear in
a low state of life, but should die such a death, and endure
such torments and contempt for sinners while enemies,
how wonderful is it ! And what tongue or pen can set
forth the greatness of the ingratitude, baseness, and per
verseness there is in it, when a perishing sinner that is in
the most extreme necessity of salvation, rejects it, after it
is procured in such a way as this ! That so glorious a
person should be thus treated, and that when he comes on
so gracious an errand ! That he should stand so long offer
ing himself and calling and inviting, as he has done to
many of you, and all to no purpose, but all the while be
set at nought ! Surely you might justly be cast into hell
without one more offer of a Saviour ! yea, and thrust
down into the lowest hell ! Herein you have exceeded the
very devils ; for they never rejected the offers of such
glorious mercy ; no, nor of any mercy at all. This will
be the distinguishing condemnation of gospel-sinners,
John iii. 18. " He that believeth not, is condemned already,
because he hath not believed in the name of the only-be
gotten Son of God."- — That outward smoothness of your
carriage towards Christ, that appearance of respect to him
in your looks, your speeches, and gestures, do not argue
but that you set him at nought in your heart.. There may
be much of these outward shows of respect, and yet you
be like Judas, that betrayed the Son of man with a kiss ;
and like those mockers that bowed the knee before him,
and at the same time spit in his face.
III. If God should for ever cast you off and destroy
you, it would be agreeable to your treatment of others. — It
would be no other than what would be exactly answerable
to your behaviour towards your fellow-creatures, that have
the same human nature, and are naturally in the same
circumstances with you, and that you ought to love as
yourself. And that appears especially in two things.
1. You have many of you been opposite in your spirit
to the salvation of others. There are several ways that
natural men manifest a spirit of opposition against the
salvation of souls. It sometimes appears by a fear that
their companions, acquaintance, and equals, will obtain
mercy, and so become unspeakably happier than they. It
is sometimes manifested by an uneasiness at the news of
what others have hopefully obtained. It appears when
persons envy others for it, and dislike them the more, and
disrelish their talk, and avoid their company, and cannot
bear to hear their religious discourse, and especially to
receive warnings and counsels from them. And it often
times appears by their backwardness to entertain charitable
thoughts of them, and by their being brought with difficulty
to believe that they have obtained mercy, and a forward

ness to listen to any thing that seems to contradict it. The
devil hated to own Job's sincerity, Job i. 7, &c. and chap.
ii. verses 3, 4, 5. There appears very often much of this
spirit of the devil in natural men. Sometimes they are
ready to make a ridicule of others' pretended godliness :
they speak of the ground of others' hopes, as the enemies
of the Jews did of the wall that they built. Neh. iv. 3.
" Now Tobiah the Ammonite was by him, and he said,
That which they build, if a fox go up, he shall even break
down their stone-wall." There are many that join with
Sanballat and Tobiah, and are of the same spirit with
them. There always was, and always will be, an enmity
betwixt the seed of the serpent and the seed of the woman.
It appeared in Cain, who hated his brother, because he
was more acceptable to God than himself; and it appears
still in these times, and in this place. There are many
that are like the elder brother, who could not bear that the
prodigal when he returned should be received with such
joy and good entertainment, and was put into a fret by it,
both against his brother that had returned, and his father
that made him so welcome. Luke xv.
Thus have many of you been opposite to the salvation
of others, who stand in as great necessity of it as vou.
You have been against their being delivered from everlast
ing misery, who can bear it no tietter than you ; not be
cause their salvation would do you any hurt, or their
damnation help you, any otherwise than as it would gratify
that vile spirit that is so much like the spirit of the devil,
who, because he is miserable himself, is unwilling that
others should be happy. How just therefore is it that God
should be opposite to your salvation!- If you have so
little love or mercy in you as to begrudge your neighbour's
salvation, whom you have no cause to hate, but the law of
God and nature requires you to love, why is God bound
to exercise such infinite love and mercy to you, as to save
you at the price of his own blood ? you, whom he is no
way bound to love, but who have deserved his hatred a
thousand and a thousand times ? You are not willing that
others should be converted, who have behaved themselves
injuriously towards you ; and yet, will you count it hard
if God does not bestow converting grace upon you that
have deserved ten thousand times as ill of God, as ever any
of your neighbours have of you? You are opposite to
God's showing mercy to those that you think have been
vicious persons, and are very unworthy of such mercy. Is.
others' unworthiness a just reason why God should not
bestow mercy on them ! and yet will God be heard, if,
notwithstanding all your unworthiness, and the abomina-
bleness of your spirit and practice in his sight, he does not
show you mercy ? You would have God bestow liberally
on you, and upbraid not ; but yet when he shows mercy
to others, you are ready to upbraid as soon as you hear of
it : you immediately are thinking with yourself how ill
they have behaved themselves ; and it may be your mouths
on this occasion are open, enumerating and aggravating the
sins they have been guilty of. You would have God bury
all your faults, and wholly blot out all your transgres
sions ; but yet if he bestows mercy on others, it may be
you will take that occasion to rake up all their old faults
that you can think of. You do not much reflect on and
condemn yourself for your baseness and unjust spirit
towards others, in your opposition to their salvation ; you
do not quarrel with yourself, and condemn yourself for
this ; but yet you in your heart will quarrel with God, and
fret at his dispensations, because you think he seems oppo
site to showing mercy to you. One would think that the
consideration of these things should for ever stop your
mouth. 2. Consider how you have promoted others' damnation.
Many of you, by the bad examples you have set, by cor
rupting the minds of others, by your sinful conversation,
by leading them into or strengthening them in sin, and by
the mischief you have done in human society other ways
that might be mentioned, have been guilty of those things
that have tended to others' damnation. You have hereto
fore appeared on the side of sin and Satan, and have
strengthened their interest, and have been many ways ac
cessary to others' sins, have hardened their hearts, and
thereby have done what has tended to the ruin of their
souls. — Without doubt there are those here present who

678

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have been in a great measure the means of others' damna
tion. One man may really be a means of others' damna
tion as well as salvation. Christ charges the scribes and
Pharisees with this, Matt, xxiii. 13. "Ye shut up the
kingdom of heaven against men ; for ye neither go in
yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering, to go
in." We have no reason to think that this congregation
has none in it who are cursed from day to day by poor
souls that are roaring out in hell, whose damnation they
have been the means of, or have greatly contributed to. —
There are many who contribute to their own children's
damnation, by neglecting their education, by setting them
bad examples, and bringing them up in sinful ways. They
take some care' of their bodies, but take little care of their
poor souls ; they provide for them bread to eat, but deny
them the bread of life, that their famishing souls stand in
need of. And are there no such parents here who have
thus treated their children ? If their children be not gone
to hell, no thanks to them ; it is not because they have
not done what has tended to their destruction. Seeing
therefore you have had no more regard to others' salvation,
and have promoted their damnation, how justly might
God leave you to perish yourself!
IV. If God should eternally cast you off, it would but
be agreeable to your own behaviour towards yourself; and
that in two respects :
1. In being so careless of your own salvation. You
have refused to take care for your salvation, as God has
counselled and commanded you from time to time ; and
why may not God neglect it, now you seek it of him ? Is
God obliged to be more careful of your happiness, than
you are either of your own happiness or his glory ? Is God
bound to take that care for you, out of love to you, that
you will not take for yourself, either from love to your
self, or regard to his authority ? How long, and how
greatly, have you neglected the welfare of your precious
soul, refusing to take pains and deny yourself, or put
yourself a little out of your way for your salvation, while
God has been calling upon you ! Neither your duty to
God, nor love to your own soul, were enough to induce
you to do little things for your own eternal welfare ; and
yet do you now expect that God should do great things,
putting forth almighty power, and exercising infinite mercy
for it ? You was urged to take care for your salvation,
and not to put it off You was told thai was the best
time before you grew older, and that it might be, if you
would put it off, God would not hear you afterwards ;
but yet you would not hearken ; you would run the ven
ture of it. Now how justly might God order it so, that
it should be too late, leaving you to seek in vain ! You
was told, that you would repent of it if you delayed ; but
you would not hear : how justly therefore may God give
you cause to repent of it, by refusing to show you mercy
now ! If God sees you going on in ways contrary to his
commands and his glory, and requires you to forsake
them, and tells you that they tend to the destruction of
your own soul, and therefore counsels you to avoid them,
and you refuse ; how just would it be if God should be
provoked by it, henceforward to be as careless of the good
of your soul as you are yourself !
2. You have not only neglected your salvation, but you
have wilfully taken direct courses to undo yourself. You
have gone on in those ways and practices which have
directly tended to your damnation, and have been perverse
and obstinate io it. You cannot plead ignorance ; you
had all the light set before you that you could desire.
God told you that you was undoing yourself; but yet you
would do it. He told you that the path you was going in
led to destruction, and counselled you to avoid it ; tiut
you would not hearken. How justly therefore may God
leave you to be undone ! You have obstinately persisted
to travel in the way that leads to hell for a long time, con
trary to God's continual counsels and commands, till it
may be at length you are got almost to your journey's
end, and are come near to hell's gate, and so begin to be
sensible of your danger and misery ; and now account it
unjust and hard if God will not deliver you ! You have
destroyed yourself, and destroyed yourself wilfully, con
trary to God's repeated counsels, yea, and destroyed
yourself in fighting against God. Now therefore, why do

you blame any but yourself it you are destroyed ? If you
will undo yourself in opposing God, and while God op
poses you Dy his calls and counsels, and, it may be too,
by the convictions of his Spirit, what can you object
against it, if God now leaves you to be undone ? You
would have your own way, and did not like that God
should oppose you in it, and your way was to ruin your
own soul ; how just therefore is it, if, now at length, God
ceases to oppose you, and falls in with you, and lets your
soul be ruined ; and as you would destroy yourself, so
should put to his hand to destroy you too ! The ways you
went on in had a natural tendency to your misery : if you
would drink poison in opposition to God, and in contempt
of him and his advice, who can you blame but yourself if
you are poisoned, and so perish ? If you would run into
the fire against all restraints both of God's mercy and au
thority, you must even blame yourself if you axe burnt.
Thus I have proposed some things to your consideration,
which, if you are not exceeding blind, senseless, and per
verse, will stop your mouth, and convince you that you
stand justly condemned before God ; and that he would
in no "wise deal hardly with you, but altogether justly, in
denying you any mercy, and in refusing to hear your
prayers, though you pray never so earnestly, and never so
often, and continue in it never so long. God may utterly
disregard your tears and moans, your heavy heart, your
earnest desires, and great endeavours ; and he may cast
you into eternal destruction, without any regard to your
welfare, denying you converting grace, and giving you
over to Satan, and at last cast you into the lake that burns
with fire and brimstone, to be there to eternity, having no
rest day or night, for ever glorifying his justice upon you
in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of
the Lamb.
Object. But here many may still object, (for I am sen
sible it is a hard thing to stop sinners' mouths,) " God
shows mercy to others that have done these things as well
as I, yea, that have done a great deal worse than I."
Ans. 1. That does not prove that God is any way bound
to show mercy to you, or them either. If God bestows it
on others, he does not so because he is bound to bestow it :
he might if he had pleased, with glorious justice, have de
nied it them. If God bestows it on some, that does not
prove that he is bound to bestow it on any ; and if he is
bound to bestow it on none, then he is not bound to be
stow it on you. God is in debt to none ; and if he gives
to some that he is not in debt to, because it is his pleasure,
that does not bring him into debt to others. It alters not
the case as to you, whether others have it, or have it not :
you do not deserve damnation the less, than if mercy never
had been bestowed on any at all. Matt. xx. 15. " Is
thine eye evil, because mine is good 1"
2. If this objection be good, then the exercise of God's
mercy is not in his own right, and his grace is not his own
to give. That which God may not dispose of as he pleases,
is not his own ; for that which is ones own, is at his own
disposal : but if it be not God's own, then he is not capa
ble of making a gift or present of it to any one ; it is im
possible to give what is a debt — What is it that you would
make of God ? Must the great God be tied up, that he
must not use his own pleasure in bestowing his own gifts,
but if he bestows them on one, must be looked upon
obliged to bestow them on another ? Is not God worthy to
have the same right, with respect to the gifts of his grace,
that a man has to his money or goods? Is it because God
is not so great, and should be more in subjection than man,
that this cannot be allowed him? If any of you see cause
to show kindness to a neighbour, do all the rest of your
neighbours come to you, and tell you, that you owe them
so much as you have given to such a man ? But this is the
way that you deal with God, as though God were not
worthy to have as absolute a property in his goods, as you
have in yours.
At this rate God cannot make a present of any thing ;
he has nothing of his own to bestow : if he has a mind to
show peculiar favour to some, or to lay some particular
persons under peculiar obligations to him, he cannot do it ;
because he has no special gift at his own disposal. If this
be the case, why do you pray to God to bestow saving
grace upon you ? If God does not do fairly to deny it you,

Disc IV.

THE JUSTICE OF GOD.

079

because he bestows it on others, then it is not worth your
while to pray for it, but you may go and tell him that he
has bestowed it on others as bad or worse than you, and
so demand it of him as a debt. And at this rate persons
never need to thank God for salvation, when it is bestow
ed ; for what occasion is there lo thank God for that which
was not at his own disposal, and that he could not fairly
have denied ? The thing at bottom is, that men have low
thoughts of God, and high thoughts of themselves ; and
therefore it is that they look upon God as having so little
right, and they so much. Matt. xx. 15. " Is it not lawful
for me to do what I will with mine own ?"
3. God may justly show greater respect to others than
to you, for you have shown greater respect toothers than to
God. You have rather chosen to offend God than men.
God only shows a greater respect to others, who are by
nature your equals, than to you; but you have shown a
greater respect to those that are infinitely inferior to God
than to him. You have shown a greater regard to wicked
men than to God ; you have honoured them more, loved
them better, and adhered to them rather than to him. Yea,
you have honoured the devil, in many respects, more than
God : you have chosen his will and his interest, rather than
God's will and his glory : you have chosen a little worldly
pelf, rather than God : you have set more by a vile lust
than by him : you have chosen these things, and rejected
God. You have set your heart on these things, and cast
God behind your back : and where is the injustice if God
is pleased to show greater respect to others than to you, or
if he chooses others and rejects you ? You have shown
great respect to vile and worthless things, and no respect
to God's glory ; and why may not God set his love on'
others, and have no respect to your happiness ? You have
shown great respect to others, and not to God, whom you
are laid under infinite obligations to respect above all ; and
why may not God show respect to others, and not to you,
who never have laid him under the least obligation ?
And will you not be ashamed, notwithstanding all these
things, still to open your mouth, to object and cavil about
the decrees of God, and other things that you cannot fully
understand. Let the decrees of God be what they will,
that alters not the case as to your liberty, any more than if
God had only foreknown. And why is God to blame for
decreeing things ? Especially since he decrees nothing but
good. How unbecoming an infinitely wise Being would
it have been to have made a world, and let things run at
random, without disposing events, or fore-ordering how
they should come to pass? And what is that to you, how
God has fore-ordered things, as long as your constant ex
perience teaches you, that it does not hinder your doing
what you choose to do. This you know, and your daily
practice and behaviour amongst men declares that you are
fully sensible of it, with respect to yourself and others.
Still to object, because there are some things in God's dis
pensations above your understanding, is exceedingly un
reasonable. Your own conscience charges you with great
guilt, and with those things that have been mentioned, let
the secret things of God be what they will. Your con
science charges you with those vile dispositions, and that
base behaviour towards God, that you would at any time
most highly resent in your neighbour towards you, and that
not a whit the less for any concern those secret counsels
and mysterious dispensations of God may have in the mat
ter. It is in vain for you to exalt yourself against an in
finitely great, and holy, and just God. If you continue in
it, it will be to your eternal shame and confusion, when
hereafter you shall see at whose door all the blame of your
misery lies.
I will finish what I have to say to natural men in the
application of this doctrine, with a caution not to improve
the doctrine to discouragement. For though it would be
righteous in God for ever to cast you off, and destroy you,
yet it would also be just in God to save you, in and
through Christ, who has made complete satisfaction for all
sin. Rom. iii. 25, 26. " Whom God hath set forth to be
a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare his
righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through
the forbearance of God ; to declare, I say, at this time his
righteousness, that he might be just, and the justifier of
him which believeth in Jesus." Yea, God may, through

this Mediator, not only justly, but honourably, show you
mercy. The blood of Christ is so precious, that it is fully
sufficient to pay the debt you have contracted, and per
fectly to vindicate the Divine Majesty from all the dis
honour cast upon it, by those many great sins of yours
that have been mentioned, lt was as great, and indeed a
much greater thing, for Christ to die, than it would have
been for you and all mankind to have burnt in hell to all
eternity. Of such dignity and excellency is Christ in the
eyes of God, that, seeing he has suffered so much for poor
sinners, God is willing to be at peace with them, however
vile and unworthy they have been, and on how many ac
counts soever the punishment would be just. So that you
need not be at all discouraged from seeking mercy, for
there is enough in Christ.
Indeed it would not become the glory of God's majesty
to show mercy to you, so sinful and vile a creature, for
any thing that you have done; for such worthless and des
picable things as your prayers, and other religious per
formances, It would be very dishonourable and unworthy
of God so to do, and it is in vain to expect it. He will show
mercy only on Christ's account, and that, according to his
sovereign pleasure, on whom hepieases, when he pleases, and
in what manner he pleases. You cannot bring him under
obligation by your works ; do what you will, he will not
look on himself obliged. But if it be his pleasure, he can
honourably show mercy through Christ to any sinner of
you all, not one in this congregation excepted. — Therefore
here is encouragement for you still to seek and wait, not
withstanding all your wickedness ; agreeable to Samuel's
speech to the children of Israel, when they were terrified
with the thunder and rain that God sent, and when guilt
stared Ihem in the face, 1 Sam. xii. 20. "Fear not; ye
have done all this wickedness ; yet turn not aside from
following the Lord, but serve the Lord with all your
heart." I would conclude this discourse by putting the godly in
mind of the freeness and wonderfulness of the grace of God
towards them. For such were the same of you. — The case
was just so with you as you have heard ; you had such a
wicked heart, you lived such a wicked life, and it would
have been most just with God for ever to have cast you off:
but he has had mercy upon you ; he hath made his glori
ous grace appear in your everlasting salvation. • You had
no love to God ; but yet he has exercised unspeakable
love to you. You have contemned God, and set light by
him ; but so great a value has God's grace set on you and
your happiness, that you have been redeemed at the price
of the biood of his own Son. You chose to be with Satan
in his service ; but yet God hath made you a joint heir
with Christ of his glory. You was ungrateful for past
mercies ; yet God not only continued those mercies, but
bestowed unspeakably greater mercies upon you. You
refused to hear when God called ; yet God heard you
when you called. You abused the infiniteness of God's
mercy to encourage yourself in sin against him ; yet God
has manifested the infiniteness of that mercy, in the exer
cises of it towards you. You have rejected Christ, and set
him at nought ; and yet he is become your Saviour. You
have neglected your own salvation ; but God has not
neglected it. You have destroyed yourself; but yet in
God has been your help. God has magnified his free
grace towards you, and not to others ; because he has
chosen you, and it hath pleased him to set his love upon
you. O ! what cause is here for praise ! What obligations
you are under to bless the Lord who hath dealt bountifully
with you, and magnify his holy name ! What cause for
you to praise God in humility, to walk humbly before
him. Ezek. xvi. 63. "That thou mayest remember and
be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more, be
cause of thy shame, when I am pacified toward thee for
all that thou hast done, saith the Lord God !" You shall
never open your mouth in boasting, or self-justification ;
but lie the lower before God for his mercy to you. You
have reason, the more abundantly, to open your mouth in
God's praises, that they may be continually in your mouth,
both here and to all eternity, for his rich, unspeakable,
and sovereign mercy to you, whereby he, and he alone,
hath made vou to differ from others.

680

FIVE DISCOURSES.

DISCOURSE V.

THE EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST.

Rev. v. 5, 6.
And one of the elders saith unto me. Weep not : behold, the
Lion qf the tribe of Juda, the Root qf David, hath pre
vailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals there
of. And I beheld, and, lo, in the midst ofthe throne, and
qf the four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a
Lamb as it had been slain  .
The visions and revelations the apostle John had of the
future events of God's providence, are here introduced
with a vision of the book of God's decrees, by which those
events were fore-ordained. This is represented (ver. 1 .) as
a book in the right hand of him who sat on the throne,
" written within and on the back side, and sealed with
seven seals." Books, in the form in which they were wont
of old to be made, were broad leaves of parchment or
paper, or something of that nature, joined together at one
edge, and so rolled up together, and then sealed, or some
way fastened together, to prevent their unfolding and
opening. Hence we read of the roll of a book, Jer. xxxvi.
2. lt seems to have been such a book that John had a
vision of here ; and therefore it is said to be " written
within and on the back side," i. e. on the inside pages,
and also on one of the outside pages, viz. that which was
rolled in, in rolling the book up together. And it is said
to be " sealed with seven seals," to signify that what was
written in it was perfectly hidden and secret ; or that
God's decrees of future events are sealed, and shut up
from all possibility of being discovered by creatures, till
God is pleased to make them known. We find that seven
is often used in Scripture as the number of perfection, to
signify the superlative or most perfect degree of any thing ;
which probably arose from this, that on the seventh day
God beheld the works of creation finished, and rested and
rejoiced in them, as being complete and perfect.
When John saw this book, he tells us, he " saw a strong
angel proclaiming with a loud voice, Who is worthy to
open the book, and to loose the seals thereof? And no
man in heaven, nor in earth, neither under the earth, was
able to open the book, neither to look thereon." And that
he wept much, because " no man was found worthy to open
and read the book, neither to look thereon." And then
tells us how his tears were dried up, viz. that " one of the
elders said unto him, Weep not ; Behold the Lion of the
tribe of Judah hath prevailed," &c. as in the text. Though
no man nor angel, nor any mere creature, was found either
able to loose the seals, or worthy to be admitted to the
privilege of reading the book ; yet this was declared, for
the comfort of this beloved disciple, that Christ was found
both able and worthy. And we have an account in the
succeeding chapters how he actually did it, opening the
seals in order, first one, and then another, revealing what
God had decreed should come to pass hereafter. And we
have an account in this chapter, of his coming and taking
the book out of the right hand of him that sat on the
throne, and of the joyful praises that were sung to him in
heaven and earth on that occasion.
Many things might be observed in the words ofthe text ;
but it is to my present purpose only to take notice of the
two distinct appellations here given to Christ.
1 . He is called a Lion. Behold, the Lion qf the tribe of
Judah. He seems to be called the Lion of the tribe of
Judah, in allusion to what Jacob said in his blessing of
the tribes on his death-bed ; who, when he came to bless
Judah, compares him to a lion, Gen. xlix. 9. " Judah is
a lion's whelp ; from the prey, my son, thou art gone up :
he stooped down, he couched as a lion, and as an old lion ;
who shall rouse him up 1" And also to the standard ofthe
camp of Judah in the wilderness, on which was displayed

a lion, according to the ancient tradition of the Jews. It
is much on account of the valiant acts of David that the
tribe of Judah, of which David was, is in Jacob's pro
phetical blessing compared to a lion ; but more especially
with an eye to Jesus Christ, who also was of that tribe,
and was descended of David, and is in our text called
" the Root of David ;" and therefore Christ is here called
" the Lion of the tribe of Judah."
2. He is called a Lamb. John was told of a Lion that
had prevailed to open the book, and probably expected to
see a lion in his vision ; but while he is expecting, behold
a Lamb appears to open the book, an exceeding diverse
kind of creature from a lion. A lion is a devourer, one
that is wont to make terrible slaughter of others ; and no
creature more easily falls a prey to him than a lamb. And
Christ is here represented not only as a Lamb, a creature
very liable to be slain, but a " Lamb as it had been slain,"
that is, with the marks of its deadly wounds appearing
on it.
That which I would observe from tlie words, for the
subject of my present discourse, is this, viz.  •
" There is an admirable conjunction of diverse excel
lencies in Jesus Christ."
The lion and the lamb, though very diverse kinds of
creatures, yet have each their peculiar excellencies. The
lion excels in strength, and in the majesty of his appear
ance and voice : the lamb excels in meekness and pa
tience, besides the excellent nature of the creature as good
for food, and yielding that which is fit for our clothing,
and being suitable to be offered in sacrifice to God. But
we see that Christ is in the text compared to both ; be
cause the diverse excellencies of both wonderfully meet in
him, — In handling this subject I would,
First, Show wherein there is an admirable conjunction
of diverse excellencies in Christ.
Secondly, How this admirable conjunction of excellen
cies appear in Christ's acts.
And then make application.
First, I would show wherein there is an admirable con
junction of diverse excellencies in Jesus Christ. Which
appears in three things :
I. There is a conjunction of such excellencies in Christ,
as, in our manner of conceiving, are very diverse one
from another.
II. There is in him a conjunction of such really diverse
excellencies, as otherwise would have seemed to us utterly
incompatible in the same subject.
III. Such diverse excellencies are exercised in him
towards men that otherwise would have seemed impos
sible to be exercised towards the same object.
I. There is a conjunction of such excellencies in Christ,
as, in our manner of conceiving, are very diverse one from
another. Such are the various divine perfections and ex
cellencies that Christ is possessed of. Christ is a divine
person ; and therefore has all the attributes of God. The
difference between these is chiefly relative, and in our
manner of conceiving them. And those which, in this
sense, are most diverse, meet in the person of Christ. I
shall mention two instances.
1 . There do meet in Jesus Christ infinite highness and
infinite condescension. Christ, as he is God, is infinitely
great and high above all. He is higher than the kings of
the earth ; for he is King of kings, and Lord of lords. He
is higher than the heavens, and higher than the highest
angels of heaven. So great is he, that all men, all kings
and princes, are as worms of the dust before him ; all
nations are as the drop of the bucket, and the light dust of
the balance ; yea, and angels themselves are as nothing

Disc. V.

THE EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST.

681

before him. He is so high, that he is infinitely above any
need of us ; above our reach, that we cannot be profitable
to him ; and above our conceptions, that we cannot com
prehend him. Prov. xxx. 4. " What is his name, and what
is his Son's name, if thou canst tell ?" Our understandings,
if we stretch them never so far, cannot reach up to nis
divine glory. Job xi. 8. " It is high as heaven, what
canst thou do ?" Christ is the Creator and great Possessor
of heaven and earth. He is sovereign Lord of all. He
rules over the whole universe, and doth whatsoever pleaseth
him. His knowledge is without bound. His wisdom is
perfect, and what none can circumvent. His power is
infinite, and none can resist him. His riches are immense
and inexhaustible. His majesty is infinitely awful.
And yet he is one of infinite condescension. None are
so low or inferior, but Christ's condescension is sufficient
to take a gracious notice of them. He condescends not
only to the angels, humbling himself to behold the things
that are done in heaven, but he also condescends to such
poor creatures as men ; and that not only so as to take
notice of princes and great men, but of those that are of
meanest rank and degree, " the poor of the world," James
ii. 5. Such as are commonly despised by their fellow-
creatures, Christ does not despise. 1 Cor. i. 28. " Base
things of the world, and things that are despised, hath God
chosen." Christ condescends to take notice of beggars,
Luke xvi. 22. and people of the most despised nations.
In Christ Jesus is neither " Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor
free," Col. iii. 11. He that is thus high, condescends to
take a gracious notice of little children, Matt. xix. 14,
" Suffer little children to come unto me." Yea, which is
more, his condescension is sufficient to take a gracious
notice of the most unworthy, sinful creatures, those that
have no good deservings, and those that have infinite ill—
deservings. Yea, so great is his condescension, that it is not only
sufficient to take some gracious notice of such as these, but
sufficient for every thing that is an act of condescension.
His condescension is great enough to become their friend ;
to become their companion, to unite their souls to him in
spiritual marriage. It is enough to take their nature upon
him, to become one of them, that he may be one with
them. Yea, it is great enough to abase himself yet lower
for them, even to expose himself to shame and spitting ;
yea, to yield up himself to an ignominious death for them.
And what act of condescension can be conceived of great
er ? Yet such an act as this, has his condescension yielded
to, for those that are so low and mean, despicable and
unworthy !
Such a conjunction of infinite highness and low con
descension, in the same person, is admirable. We see, by
manifold instances, what a tendency a high station has
in men, to make them to be of a quite contrary disposition.
If one worm be a little exalted above another, by having
more dust, or a bigger dunghill, how much does he make
of himself ! What a distance does he keep from those that
are below him ! And a little condescension is what he
expects should be made much of, and greatly acknow
ledged. Christ condescends to wash our feet; but how
would great men, (or rather the bigger worms,) account
themselves debased by acts of far less condescension !
2. There meet in Jesus Christ, infinite justice and infinite
grace. As Christ is a divine person, he is infinitely holy
and just; hating sin, and disposed to execute condign
punishment for sin. He is the Judge of the world, and
the infinitely just Judge of it, and will not at all acquit
the wicked, or by any means clear the guilty.
And yet he is infinitely gracious and merciful. Though
his justice be so strict with respect to all sin, and every
breach of the law, yet he has grace sufficient for every
sinner, and even the chief of sinners. And it is not only
sufficient for the most unworthy to show them mercy, and
bestow some good upon them, but to bestow the greatest
good ; yea, it is sufficient to bestow all good upon them,
and to do all things for them. There is no benefit or bless
ing that they can receive, so great but the grace of Christ
is sufficient to bestow it on the greatest sinner that ever
lived. And not only so, but so great is his grace, that
nothing is too much as the means of this good. It is suf
ficient not only to do great things, but also to suffer in

order to it ; and not only to suffer, but to suffer most ex
tremely even unto death, the most terrible of natural evils;
and not only death, but the most ignominious and torment
ing, and every way the most terrible that men could in
flict; yea, and greater sufferings than men could inflict,
who could only torment the body. He had sufferings in
his soul, that were the more immediate fruits of the wrath
of God against the sins of those he undertakes for.
II. There do meet in the person of Christ such really
diverse excellencies, which otherwise would have been
thought utterly incompatible in the same subject ; such as
are conjoined in no other person whatever, either divine,
human, or angelical ; and such as neither men nor
angels would ever have imagined could have met together
in the same person, had it not been seen in the person of
Christ. I would give some instances.
1. In the person of Christ do meet together infinite
glory and lowest humility. Infinite glory, and the virtue
of humility, meet in no other person but Christ. They
meet in no created person; for no created person has
infinite glory ; and they meet in no other divine person but
Christ. For though the divine nature be infinitely abhor
rent to pride, yet humility is not properly predicable of
God the Father, and the Holy Ghost, that exists only in
the divine nature ; because it is proper excellency only of
a created nature ; for it consists radically in a sense of a
comparative lowness and littleness before God, or the great
distance between God and the subject of this virtue ; but
it would be a contradiction to suppose any such thing in
God. But in Jesus Christ, who is both God and man, those
two diverse excellencies are sweetly united. He is a person
infinitely exalted in glory and dignity. Phil. ii. 6. " Being
in the form of God, he thought it not robbery to be equal
with God." There is equal honour due to him with the
Father. John v. 23. — " That all men should honour the
Son, even as they honour the Father." God himself says
to him, " Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever," Heb.
i. 8. And there is the same supreme respect and divine
worship paid to him by the angels of heaven, as to God
the Father, (ver. 6.) " Let all the angels of God worship
him." But however he is thus above all, yet he is lowest of all
in humility. There never was so great an instance of this
virtue among either men or angels, as Jesus. None ever
was so sensible of the distance between God and him, or
had a heart so lowly before God, as the man Christ Jesus.
Matt. xi. 29. What a wonderful spirit of humility ap-
E eared in him, when he was here upon earth, in all his
ehaviour ! In his contentment in his mean outward con
dition, contentedly living in the family of Joseph the car
penter, and Mary his mother, for thirty years together, and
afterwards choosing outward meanness, poverty, and con
tempt, rather than earthly greatness ; in his washing his
disciples' feet, and in all his speeches and deportment to
wards them ; in his cheerfully sustaining the form of a
servant through his whole life, and submitting to such im
mense humiliation at death !
2. In the person of Christ do meet together infinite
majesty and transcendent meekness. These again are two
qualifications that meet together in no other person but
Christ. Meekness, properly so called, is a virtue proper
only to the creature : we scarcely ever find meekness
mentioned as a divine attribute in Scripture ; at least not
in the New Testament ; for thereby seems to be signified,
a calmness and quietness of spirit, arising from humility
in mutable beings that are naturally liable to be put into a
ruffle by the assaults of a tempestuous and injurious
world. But Christ being both God and man, hath both
infinite majesty and superlative meekness.
Christ was a person of infinite majesty. It is he that is
spoken of, Psalm xiv. 3. " Gird thy sword upon thy thigh,
0 most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty." It is he
that is mighty, that rideth on the heavens, and his excel
lency on the sky. It is he that is terrible out of his holy
places ; who is mightier than the noise of many waters,
yea, than the mighty waves ofthe sea : before whom a fire
goeth, and burnetii up his enemies round about ; at whose
presence the earth quakes, and the hills melt; who sitteth
on the circle of the earth, and all the inhabitants thereof

682

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are as grasshoppers ; who rebukes the sea, and maketh it
dry, and drieih up the rivers ; whose eyes are as a flame
of fire ; from whose presence, and from the glory of whose
power,' the wicked shall be punished with everlasting de
struction ; who is the blessed and only Potentate, the King
of kings, and Lord of lords, who hath heaven for his throne,
and the earth for his footstool, and is the high and lofty
One who inhabits eternity, whose kingdom is an everlast
ing kingdom, and of whose dominion there is no end.
And yet he was the most marvellous instance of meek
ness, and humble quietness of spirit, that ever was ; agree
able to the prophecies of him, Matt. xxi. 4, 5. " All this
was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by
the prophet, saying, Tell ye the daughter of Sion, Behold,
thy King cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass,
and a colt the foal of an ass." And, agreeable to what
Christ declares of himself, Matt. xi. 29. " I am meek and
lowly in heart." And agreeable to what was manifest in
his behaviour : for there never was such an instance seen
on earth, of a meek behaviour, under injuries and re
proaches, and towards enemies ; who, when he was re
viled, reviled not again. He had a wonderful spirit of for
giveness, was ready to forgive his worst enemies, and pray
ed for them with fervent and effectual prayers. With what
meekness did he appear in the ring of soldiers that were
contemning and mocking him ; he was silent, and opened
not his mouth, but went as a lamb to the slaughter. Thus
is Christ a Lion in majesty, and a Lamb in meekness.
3. There meet in the person of Christ the deepest reve
rence towards God and equality with God. Christ, when
on earth, appeared full of holy reverence towards the
Father. He paid the most reverential worship to him,
praying to him with postures of reverence. Thus we read
of his " kneeling down and praying," Luke xxii. 41.
This became Christ, as one who had taken on him the
human nature ; but at the same time he existed in the di
vine nature ; whereby his person was in all respects equal
to the person of the Father. God the Father hath no at
tribute or perfection that the Son hath not, in equal degree,
and equal glory. These things meet in no other person but
Jesus Christ.
4. There are conjoined in the person of Christ infinite
worthiness of good, and the greatest patience under suffer
ings of evil. He was perfectly innocent, and deserved no
suffering. He deserved nothing from God by any guilt of
his own ; and he deserved no ill from men. Yea, he was
not only harmless and undeserving of suffering, but he
was infinitely worthy ; worthy of the infinite love of the
F'ather, worthy of infinite and eternal happiness, and in
finitely worthy of all possible esteem, love, and service
from all men. And yet he was perfectly patient under
the greatest sufferings that ever were endured in this world.
Heb. xii. 2. " He endured the cross, despising the shame."
He suffered not from his Father for his faults, but ours ;
and he suffered from men not for his faults, but for those
things on account of which he was infinitely worthy of
their love and honour ; which made his patience the more
wonderful and the more glorious. 1 Pet. ii. 20, &c. " For
what glory is it, if when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye
shall take it patiently, but if when ye do well, and suffer
for it, ye take it patiently ; this is acceptable with God.
For even hereunto were ye called ; because Christ also
suffered for us, leaving us an example, that we should fol
low his steps : who did no sin, neither was guile found in
his mouth : who when he was reviled, reviled not again ;
when he suffered, he threatened not ; but committed him
self to him that judgeth righteously : who his own self
bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we being
dead to sin, should live unto righteousness : by whose
stripes ye were healed." There is no such conjunction of
innocence, worthiness, and patience under sufferings, as in
the person of Christ.
5. In the person of Christ are conjoined an exceeding
spirit of obedience, with supreme dominion over heaven and
earth. Christ is the Lord of all things in two respects :
he is so, as God-man and Mediator ; and thus his domi
nion is appointed, and given him of the Father. Having
it by delegation from God, he is as it were the Father's
vicegerent. But he is Lord of all things in another respect,
viz. as he is (by his original nature) God ; and so he is by

natural right the Lord of all, and supreme over all as much
as the Father. Thus, he has dominion over the world, not
by delegation, but in his own right. He is not an under
God, as the Arians suppose, but, to all intents and purposes,
supreme God.
And yet in the same person is found the greatest spirit
of obedience to the commands and laws of God that ever
was in the universe ; which was manifest in his obedience
here in this world. John xiv. 31 . " As the Father gave
me commandment, even so I do."' John xv. 10. " Even
as I have kept my Father's commandments, and abide in
his love." The greatness of his obedience appears in its
perfection, and in his obeying commands of such exceed
ing difficulty. Never any one received commands from
God of such difficulty, and that were so great a trial of
obedience, as Jesus Christ. One of God's commands to
him was, that he should yield himself to those dreadful
sufferings that he underwent. See John x. 18. " No man
taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself."—" This
commandment received I of my Father." And Christ
was thoroughly obedient to this command of God. Heb.
v. 8. " Though he were a Son, yet he learned obedience
by the things that he suffered." Philip, ii. 8. " He hum
bled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the
death of the cross." Never was there such an instance of
obedience in man or angel as this, though he was at the
same time supreme Lord of both angels and men.
6. In the person of Christ are conjoined absolute sove
reignty and perfect resignation. This is another unparal
leled conjunction. Christ, as he is God, is the absolute
sovereign of the world ; the sovereign disposer of all
events. The decrees of God are all his sovereign decrees;
and the work of creation, and all God's works of provi
dence, are his sovereign works. It is he that worketh all
things according lo the counsel of his own will. Col. i.
16, 17. " By him, and through him, and to him, are all
things." John v. 17. " The Father worketh hitherto, and
I work." Matt. viii. 3. " I will, be thou clean."
But yet Christ was the most wonderful instance of re
signation that ever appeared in the world. He was abso
lutely and perfectly resigned when he had a near and im
mediate prospect of his terrible sufferings, and the dread
ful cup that he was to drink. The idea and expectation
of this made his soul exceeding sorrowful, even unto
death, and put him into such an agony, that his sweat was
as it were great drops or clots of blood, falling down to the
ground. But in such circumstances he was wholly re
signed to the will of God. Matt. xxvi. 39. " O my Father,
if it be possible, let this cup pass from me : nevertheless,
not as I will, but as thou wilt. Verse 42. " O my Father,
if this cup may not pass from me, except I drink it, thy
will be done."
7. In Christ do meet together self-sufficiency, and an
entire trust and reliance on God ; which is another con
junction peculiar to the person of Christ. As he is a
divine person, he is self-sufficient, standing in need of
nothing. All creatures are dependent on him, but he is
dependent on none, but is absolutely independent. His
proceeding from the Father, in his eternal generation or
filiation, argues no proper dependence on the will of the
Father; for that proceeding was natural and necessary,
and not arbitrary. But yet Christ entirely trusted in God:
his enemies say that of him, " He trusted in God that he
would deliver him," Matt, xxvii. 43. And the apostle
testifies, 1 Pet. ii. 23. "That he committed liimself to
God." III. Such diverse excellencies are expressed in him to
wards men, that otherwise would have seemed impossible
to be exercised towards the same object ; as particularly
these three, justice, mercy, and truth. The same that are
mentioned Psalm lxxxv. 10. " Mercy and truth are met
together, righteousness and peace have kissed each other."
The strict justice of God, and even his revenging justice,
and that against the sins of men, never was so gloriously
manifested as in Christ. He manifested an infinite regard
to the attribute of God's justice, in that, when he had a
mind to save sinners, he was willing to undergo such ex
treme sufferings, rather than that their salvation should be
to the injury of the honour of that attribute. And as he
is the Judge of the world, he doth himself exercise strict

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683

justice ; he will not clear the guilty, nor at all acquit the
wicked in judgment. Yet how wonderfully is infinite
mercy towards sinners displayed in him ! And what glo
rious and ineffable grace and love have been and are ex
ercised by him, towards sinful men ! Though he be the
just Judge of a sinful world, yet he is also the Saviour
of the world. Though he be a consuming fire to sin, yet
he is the light and life of sinners. Rom. iii. 25, 26.
" Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through
faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the re
mission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of
God ; to declare, I say, at this time his righteousness,
that he might be just, and the justifier of him which be
lieveth in Jesus."
So the immutable truth of God, in the threatenings of
his law against the sins of men, was never so manifested
as it is in Jesus Christ ; for there never was any other so
great a trial of the unalterableness of the truth of God in
those threatenings, as when sin came to be imputed to his
own Son. And then in Christ has been seen already an
actual complete accomplishment of those threatenings,
which never has been nor will be seen in any other in
stance; because the eternity that will be taken up in ful
filling those threatenings on others, never will be finished.
Christ manifested an infinite regard to this truth of God
in his sufferings. And, in his judging the world, he makes
the covenant of works, that contains those dreadful threat
enings, his rule of judgment. He will see to it, that it is
not infringed in the least jot or tittle : he will do nothing
contrary to the threatenings of the law, and their complete
fulfilment. And yet in him we have many great and pre
cious promises, promises of perfect deliverance from the
penalty ofthe law. And this is the promise that he hath
promised us, even eternal life. And in him are all the
promises of God, yea, and Amen.
Having thus shown wherein there is an admirable con
junction of excellencies in Jesus Christ, I now proceed,
Secondly, To show how this admirahle conjunction of
excellencies appears in Christ's acts.
I. It appears in what Christ did in taking on him our
nature. In this act, his infinite condescension wonderfully
appeared, that he who was God should become man ; that
the word should be made flesh, and should take on him a
nature infinitely below his original nature ! And it appears
yet more remarkably in the low circumstances of his in
carnation : he was conceived in the womb of a poor young
woman, whose poverty appeared in this, when she came to
offer sacrifices of her purification, she brought what was
allowed of in the law only in case of poverty ; as Luke ii.
24. " According to what is said in the law of the Lord, a
pair of turtle-doves, or two young pigeons." This was al
lowed only in case the person was so poor that she was
not able to offer a lamb. Lev. xii. 8.
And though his infinite condescension thus appeared in
the manner of his incarnation, yet his divine dignity also
appeared in it ; for though he was conceived in the womb
of a poor virgin, yet he was conceived there by the power
of the Holy Ghost. And his divine dignity also appear
ed in the holiness of his conception and birth. Though
he was conceived in the womb of one of the corrupt race
of mankind, yet he was conceived and born without sin ;
as the angel said to the blessed Virgin, Luke i. 35. " The
Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the
Highest shall overshadow thee ; therefore also that holy
thing which shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son
of God."
His infinite condescension marvellously appeared in the
manner of his birth. He was brought forth in a stable,
because there was no room for them in the inn. The inn
was taken up by others, that were looked upon as persons
of greater account. The blessed Virgin, being poor and
despised, was turned or shut out. Though she was in
such necessitous circumstances, yet those that counted
themselves her betters would not give place to her ; and
therefore, in the time of her travail, she was forced to be-
take herself to a stable ; and when the child was born, it
was wrapped in swaddling-clothes, and laid in a manger.
There Christ lay a little infant ; and there he eminently
appeared as a lamb. But yet this feeble infant, born thus
in a stable, and laid in a manger, was born to conquer

and triumph over Satan, that roaring lion. He came to
subdue the mighty powers of darkness, and make a show
of them openly ; and so to restore peace on earth, and to
manifest God's good-will towards men, and to bring glory
to God in the highest ; according as the end of his birth
was declared by the joyful songs of the glorious hosts of
angels appearing to the shepherds at the same time that
the infant lay in the manger ; whereby his divine dignity
was manifested.
II. This admirable conjunction of excellencies appears
in the acts and various passages of Christ's life. Though
Christ dwelt in mean outward circumstances, whereby
his condescension and humility especially appeared, and
his majesty was veiled ; yet his divine dignity and glory
did in many of his acts shine through the veil, and it
illustriously appeared, that he was not only the Son of man,
but the great God.
Thus, in the circumstances of his infancy, his outward
meanness appeared; yet there was something then to
show forth his divine dignity, in the wise men's being
stirred up to come from the east to give honour to him,
their being led by a miraculous star, and coming and
falling down and worshipping him, and presenting him
with gold, frankincense, and myrrh. His humility and
meekness wonderfully appeared in his subjection to his
mother and reputed father when he was a child. Herein
he appeared as a lamb. But his divine glory broke forth
and shone when, at twelve years old, he disputed with
doctors in the temple. In that he appeared, in some mea
sure, as the Lion ofthe tribe qf Judah.
And so, after he entered on his public ministry, his
marvellous humility and meekness was manifested in his
choosing to appear in such mean outward circumstances ;
and in being contented in them, when he was so poor that
he had not where to lay his head, and depended on the
charity of some of his followers for his subsistence ; as
appears by Luke viii. at the beginning. How meek, con
descending, and familiar his treatment of his disciples ;
his discourses with them, treating them as a father his
children ; yea, as friends and companions. How patient,
bearing such affliction and reproach, and so many injuries
from the scribes and Pharisees, and others. In these
things he appeared as a Lamb. And yet he at the same
time did in many ways show forth his divine majesty and
glory, particularly in the miracles he wrought, which were
evidently divine works, and manifested omnipotent power,
and so declared him to be the Lion qf the tribe qf Judah.
His wonderful and miraculous works plainly showed him
to be the God of nature ; in that it appeared by them that
he had all nature in his hands, and could lay an arrest
upon it, and stop and change its course as he pleased.
In healing the sick, and opening the eyes of the blind,
and unstopping the ears of the deaf, and healing the
lame ; he showed that he was the God that framed the
eye, and created the ear, and was the author of the frame
of man's body. By the dead's rising at his command, it
appeared that he was the author and fountain of life, and
that " God the Lord, to whom belong the issues from
death." By his walking oja the sea in a storm, when
the waves were raised, he showed himself to be that God
spoken of in Job ix. 8. " That treadeth on the waves of
the sea." By his stilling the storm, and calming the rage
of the sea, by his powerful command, saying, " Peace, be
still," he showed that he has the command of the universe,
and that he is that God who brings things to pass by the word
of his power, who speaks and it is done, who commands
and it stands fast ; Psalm lxv. 7. " Who stilleth the noise
of the seas, the noise of their waves." And Psalm cvii.
29. " That maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves
thereof are still." And Psalm lxxxix. 8, 9. " O Lord God
of hosts, who is a strong Lord like unto thee, or to thy
faithfulness round about thee ? Thou rulest the raging of
the sea : when the waves thereof arise, thou stillest them."
Christ, by casting out devils, remarkably appeared as the
Lion qf the tribe of Judah, and showed that he was
stronger than the roaring lion, that seeks whom he may
devour. He commanded them to come out, and they
were forced to obey. They were terribly afraid of him ;
they fall down before him, and beseech him not to torment
them. He forces a whole legion of them to forsake their

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hold, by his powerful word ; and they could not so much
as enter into the swine without his leave. He showed the
glory of his omniscience, by telling the thoughts of men ;
as we have often an account. Herein he appeared to be
that God spoken of, Amos iv. 13. " That declareth unto
man what is his thought." Thus, in the midst of his
meanness and humiliation, his divine glory appeared in
his miracles, John ii. 11. " This beginning of miracles
did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth his
glory." And though Christ ordinarily appeared without out
ward glory, and in great obscurity, yet at a certain time he
threw off the veil, and appeared in his divine majesty, so
far as it could be outwardly manifested to men in this frail
state, when he was transfigured in the mount. The apos
tle Peter, 2 Pet. i. 16, 17. was an " eye-witness of his
majesty, when he received from God the Father honour
and glory, when there came such a voice to him from the
excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am
well pleased ; which voice that came from heaven they
heard, when they were with him in the holy mount."
And at the same time that Christ was wont to appear
in such meekness, condescension, and humility, in his
familiar discourses with his disciples, appearing therein
as the Lamb of God ; he was also wont to appear as
The Lion of the tribe qf Judah, with divine authority and
majesty, in his so sharply rebuking the scribes and Phari
sees, and other hypocrites.
III. This admirable conjunction of excellencies re
markably appears in his offering up himself a sacrifice for
sinners in his last sufferings. As this was the greatest
thing in all the works of redemption, the greatest act of
Christ in that work ; so in this act especially does there
appear that admirable conjunction of excellencies that has
been spoken of. Christ never so much appeared as a
lamb, as when he was slain : " He came like a lamb to
the slaughter," Isaiah liii. 7. Then he was offered up to
God as a lamb without blemish, and without spot : then
especially did he appear to be the anti-type of the lamb
of the passover : 1 Cor. v. 7. " Christ our Passover sacri
ficed for us." And yet in that act he did in an especial
manner appear as " the Lion of the tribe of Judah ;' yea,
in this above all other acts, in many respects, as may ap
pear in the following things.
1 . Then was Christ in the greatest degree of his humi
liation, and yet by that, above all other things, his divine
glory appears. Christ's humiliation was great, in being
born in such a low condition, of a poor virgin, and in a
stable. His humiliation was great, in being subject to
Joseph the carpenter, and Mary his mother, and after
wards living in poverty, so as not to have where to lay his
head ; and in suffering such manifold and bitter reproaches
as he suffered, while he went about preaching and work
ing miracles. But his humiliation was never so great as it
was in his last sufferings, beginning with his agony in the
garden, till he expired on the cross. Never was he sub
ject to such ignominy as then ; never did he suffer so
much pain in his body, or so much sorrow in his soul ;
never was he in so great an exercise of his condescension,
humility, meekness, and patience, as he was in these last
sufferings ; never was his divine glory and majesty covered
with so thick and dark a veil ; never did he so empty
himself and make himself of no reputation, as at this time.
And yet, never was his divine glory so manifested, by any
act of his, as in yielding himself up to these sufferings.
When the fruit of it came to appear, and the mystery and
ends of it to be unfolded in its issue, then did the glory of
it appear ; then did it appear as the most glorious act of
Christ that ever he exercised towards the creature. This
act of his is celebrated by the angels and hosts of heaven
with peculiar praises, as that which is above all others
glorious, as you may see in the context, (ver. 9, &c.) " And
they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the
book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain,
and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every
kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; and hast
made us unto our God kings and priests : and we shall
reign on the earth. And I beheld, and I heard the voice
of many angels round about the throne, and the beasts,
and the elders : and the number of them was ten thou

sand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands;
saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was
slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing."
2. He never in any act gave so great a manifestation of
love to God, and yet never so manifested his. love to those
that were enemies to God, as in that act. Christ never
did any thing whereby his love to the Father was so emi
nently manifested, as in his laying down his life, under
such inexpressible sufferings, in obedience to his command,
and for the vindication of the honour of his authority and
majesty ; nor did ever any mere creature give such a testi
mony of love to God as that was. And yet this was the
greatest expression of his love to sinful men who were
enemies to God ; Rom. v. 10. " When we were enemies,
we were reconciled to God, by the death of his Son."
The greatness of Christ's love to such, appears in nothing
so much as in its being dying love. That blood of Christ
which fell in great drops to the ground, in his agony, was
shed from love to God's enemies, and his own. That shame
and spitting, that torment of body, and that exceeding
sorrow, even unto death, which he endured in his soul,
was what he underwent from love to rebels against God,
to save them from hell, and to purchase for them eternal
glory. Never did Christ so eminently show his regard to
God's honour, as in offering up himself a victim to justice.
And yet in this above all, he manifested his love to them
who dishonoured God, so as to bring such guilt on them
selves, that nothing less than his blood could atone
for it.
3. Christ never so eminently appeared for divine justice,
and yet never suffered so much from divine justice, as
when he offered up himself a sacrifice for our sins. In
Christ's great sufferings, did his infinite regard to the
honour of God's justice distinguishingly appear ; for it was
from regard to that that he thus humbled himself. And
yet in these sufferings, Christ was the mark of the vindictive
expressions of that very justice of God. Revenging justice
then spent all its force upon him, on account of our guilt ;
which made him sweat blood, and cry out upon the cross,
and probably rent his vitals — broke his heart, the fountain
of blood, or some other blood vessels — and by the violent
fermentation turned his blood to water. For the blood
and water that issued out of his side, when pierced by the
spear, seems to have been extravasated blood ; and so
there might be a kind of literal fulfilment of Psalm xxii.
14. " I am poured out like water, and all my bones are
out of joint : my heart is like wax, it is melted in the
midst of my bowels." And this was the way and means
by which Christ stood up for the honour of God's justice,
viz. by thus suffering its terrible executions. For when he
had undertaken for sinners, and had substituted himself in
their room, divine justice could have its due honour no
other way than by his suffering its revenges. — In this the
diverse excellencies that met in the person of Christ ap
peared, viz. his infinite regard to Goa's justice, and such
love to those that have exposed themselves to it, as induced
him thus to yield himself a sacrifice to it.
4. Christ's holiness never so illustriously shone forth as
it did in his last sufferings ; and yet he never was to such
a degree treated as guilty. Christ's holiness never had
such a trial as it had then ; and therefore never had so
great a manifestation. When it was tried in this furnace,
it came forth as gold, or as silver purified seven times.
His holiness then above all appeared in his stedfast pur
suit of the honour of God, and in his obedience lo him.
For his yielding himself unto death was transcendently
the greatest act of obedience that ever was paid to God by
any one since the foundation of the world.
And yet then Christ was in the greatest degree treated
as a wicked person would have been. He was apprehend
ed and bound as a malefactor. His accusers represented
him as a most wicked wretch. In his sufferings before
his crucifixion, he was treated as if he had been the worst
and vilest of mankind ; and then, he was put to a kind of
death, that none but the worst sort of malefactors were wont
to suffer, those that were most abject in their persons, and
guilty ofthe blackest crimes. And he suffered as though
guilty from God himself, by reason of our guilt imputed
to him; for he who knew no sin, was made sin for us ; he

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685

was made subject to wrath, as if he had been sinful him
self. He was made a curse for us.
Christ never so greatly manifested his hatred of sin, as
against God, as in his dying to take away the dishonour
lhat sin had done to God ; and yet never was he to such
a degree subject to the terrible e"ffects of God's hatred of
sin, and wrath against it, as he was then. In this appears
those diverse excellencies meeting in Christ, viz. love to
God, and grace to sinners.
5. He never was so dealt with, as unworthy, as in his
last sufferings; and yet it is chiefly on account of them
that he is accounted worthy. He was therein dealt with
as if he had not been worthy to live : they cry out, " Away
with him ! away with him ! Crucify him." John xix. 15.
And they prefer Barabbas before him. And he suffered
from the Father, as one whose demerits were infinite, by
reason of our demerits that were laid upon him. And yet
it was especially by that act of his subjecting himself to
those sufferings, that he merited, and on the account of
whicli chiefly he was accounted worthy of the glory of his
exaltation. Philip, ii. 8, 9. " He humbled himself, and
became obedient unto death; wherefore God hath highly
exalted him." And we see that it is on this account chief
ly, that he is extolled as worthy by saints and angels in
the context ; " Worthy," say they, " is the Lamb that was
slain." This shows an admirable conjunction in him of
infinite dignity, and infinite condescension and love to the
infinitely unworthy.
6. Christ in his last sufferings suffered most extremely
from those towards whom he was then manifesting his
greatest act of love. He never suffered so much from his
Father, (though not from any hatred to him, but from
hatred to our sins,) for he then forsook him, or took away
the comforts of his presence; and then " it pleased the
Lord to bruise him, and put him to grief," as Isaiah liii.
10. And yet never gave so great a manifestation of love
to God as then, as has been already observed. So Christ
never suffered so much from the hands of men as he did
then ; and yet never was in so high an exercise of love
to men. He never was so ill treated by his disciples ;
who were so unconcerned about his sufferings, that they
would not watch with him one hour, in his agony ; and
when he was apprehended, all forsook him and fled, ex
cept Peter, who denied him with oaths and curses. And
yet then he was suffering, shedding his blood, and pouring
out his soul unto death for them. Yea, he probably was
then shedding his blood for some of them that shed his
blood ; for whom he prayed while they were crucifying
him ; and who were probably afterwards brought home
to Christ by Peter's preaching. (Compare Luke xxiii. 34.
Acts ii. 23, 36, 37, 41. and chap. iii. 17. and chap. iv. 4.)
This shows an admirable meeting of justice and grace in
the redemption of Christ.
7. It was in Christ's last sufferings, above all, that he
was delivered up to the power of his enemies ; and yet by
these, above all, he obtained victory over his enemies.
Christ never was so in his enemies' hands, as in the time
of his last sufferings. They sought his life before; but
from time to time they were restrained, and Christ escaped
out of their hands; and this reason is given for it, that his
time was not yet come. But now they were suffered to
work their will upon him ; he was in a great degree de
livered up to the malice and cruelty of both wicked men
and devils. -And therefore when Christ's enemies came
to apprehend him, he says to them, Luke xxii. 53. " When
I was daily with you in the temple, ye stretched forth no
hand against me : but this is your hour, and the power of
darkness." And yet it was principally by means of those sufferings
that he conquered and overthrew his enemies. Christ
never so effectually bruised Satan's head, as when Satan
bruised his heel. The weapon with which Christ warred
against the devil, and obtained a most complete victory
and glorious triumph over him, was the cross, the instru
ment and weapon with which he thought he had over
thrown Christ, and brought on him shameful destruction.
Col. ii. 14, 15. " Blotting out the handwriting of ordi
nances, — nailing it to his cross : and having spoiled prin
cipalities and powers, he made a show of them openly,
triumphing over them in it." In his last sufferings, Christ

sapped the very foundations of Satan's kingdom ; he con
quered his enemies in their own territories, and beat them
with their own weapons ; as David cut off Goliah's head
with his own sword. The devil had, as it were, swallowed
up Christ, as the whale did Jonah; but it was deadly
poison to him ; he gave him a mortal wound in his own
bowels. He was soon sick of his morsel, and was forced
to do by him as the whale did by Jonah. To this day he
is heart-sick of what he then swallowed as his prey. In
those sufferings of Christ was laid the foundation of all
that glorious victory he has already obtained over Satan,
in the overthrow of his heathenish kingdom in the Roman
empire, and all the success the gospel has had since ; and
also of all his future and still more glorious victory that is
to be obtained in the earth. Thus Samson's riddle is
most eminently fulfilled, Judges xiv. 14. " Out of the
eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth
sweetness." And thus the true Samson does more to
wards the destruction of his enemies at his death than in
his life; in yielding up himself to death, he pulls down
the temple of Dagon, and destroys many thousands of his
enemies, even while they are making themselves sport in
his sufferings ; and so he whose type was the ark, pulls
down Dagon, and breaks off his head and hands in his
own temple, even while he is brought in there as Dagon's
captive. Thus Christ appeared at the same time, and in the same
act, as both a lion and a lamb. He appeared as a lamb in
the hands of his cruel enemies; as a lamb in the paws,
and between the devouring jaws, of a roaring lion ; yea,
he was a lamb actually slain by this lion : and yet at the
same time, as the Lion ofthe tribe qf Judah, he conquers
and triumphs over Satan, destroying his own devourer; as
Samson did the lion that roared upon him, when he rent
him as he would a kid. And in nothing has Christ ap
peared so much as a lion, in glorious strength destroying
his enemies, as when he was brought as a lamb to the
slaughter. In his greatest weakness he was most strong ;
and when he suffered most from his enemies, he brought
the greatest confusion on his enemies. — Thus this ad
mirable conjunction of diverse excellencies was manifest
in Christ, in his offering up himself to God in his last
sufferings. IV. It is still manifest in his acts, in his present state
of exaltation in heaven. Indeed, in his exalted state, he
most eminently appears in manifestation of those excellen
cies, on the account of which he is compared to a lion ;
but still he appears as a Iamb ; Rev. xiv. 1 . " And I
looked, and lo, a Lion stood on mount Sion ;" as in his
state of humiliation he chiefly appeared as a lamb, and
yet did not appear without manifestation of his divine
majesty and power, as the Lion of the tribe qf Judah.
Though Christ be now at the right-hand of God, exalted
as King of heaven, and Lord of the universe ; yet as he
still is in the human nature, he still excels in humility.
Though the man Christ Jesus be the highest of all creatures
in heaven, yet he as much excels them all in humility as
he doth in glory and dignity ; for none sees so much of the
distance between God and him as he does. And though
he now appears in such glorious majesty and dominion in
heaven, yet -he appears as a lamb in his condescending,
mild, and sweet treatment of his saints there ; for he is a
Lamb still, even amidst the throne of his exaltation ; and
he that is the Shepherd of the whole flock is himself a
Lamb, and goes before them in heaven as such. Rev. vii.
1 7. " For the Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne,
shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains
of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their
eyes." Though in heaven every knee bows to him, and
though the angels fall down before him adoring him, yet
he treats his saints with infinite condescension, mildness,
and endearment. And in his acts towards the saints on
earth, he still appears as a lamb, manifesting exceeding
love and tenderness in his intercession for them, as one
that has had experience of affliction and temptation. He
has not forgot what these things are ; nor has he forgot
how to pity those that are subject to them. And he still
manifests his lamb-like excellencies, in his dealings with
his saints on earth, in admirable forbearance, love, gentle
ness, and compassion. Behold him instructing, supply-

686

FIVE DISCOURSES.

ing, supporting, and comforting them ; often coming to
them, and manifesting himself to them by his Spirit, that
he may sup with them, and they with him. Behold him
admitting them to sweet communion, enabling them with
boldness and confidence to come to him, and solacing their
hearts. And in heaven Christ still appears, as it were,
with the marks of his wounds upon him ; and so appears
as a Lamb as it had been slain ; as he was represented in
vision to St- John, in the text, when he appeared to open
the book sealed with seven seals, which is part of the glory
of his exaltation.
5. And lastly, this admirable conjunction of excellencies
will be manifest in Christ's acts at the last judgment. He
then, above all other times, will appear as the Lion ofthe
tribe qf Judah in infinite greatness and majesty, when he
shall come in the glory of his Father, with all the holy
angels, and the earth shall tremble before him, and the hills
shall melt. This is heT,Rev. xx. 11.) " that shall sit on a
great white throne, before whose face the earth and heaven
shall flee away." He will then appear in the most dread
ful and amazing manner to the wicked. The devils tremble
at the thought of that appearance ; and when it shall be,
the kings, and the great men, and the rich men, and the
chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bond-man,
and every free-man, shall hide themselves in the dens, and
in the rocks of the mountains, and shall cry to the moun
tains and rocks to fall on them, to hide them from the face
and wrath of the Lamb. And none can declare or con
ceive of the amazing manifestations of wrath in which he
will then appear towards these ; or the trembling and
astonishment, the shrieking and gnashing of teeth, with
which they shall stand before his judgment-seat, and re
ceive the terrible sentence of his wrath.
And yet he will at the same time appear as a Lamb to
his saints ; he will receive them as friends and brethren,
treating them with infinite mildness and love. There shall
be nothing in him terrible to them ; but towards them he
will clothe himself wholly with sweetness and endearment.
The church shall be then admitted to him as his bride ;
that shall be her wedding-day. The saints shall all be
sweetly invited to come with him to inherit the kingdom,
and reign in it with him to all eternity.

APPLICATION.
I. From this doctrine we may learn one reason why
Christ is called by such a variety of names, and held forth
under such a variety of representations, in Scripture. It is
the better to signify and exhibit to us that variety of excel
lencies that meet together and are conjoined in him.
Many appellations are mentioned together in one verse,
Isaiah ix. 6. " For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is
given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder :
and his name snail be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the
mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace."
It shows a wonderful conjunction of excellencies, that the
same person should be a Son, born and given, and yet be
the everlasting Father, without beginning or end ; that he
should be a Child, and yet be he whose name is Counsel
lor, and the mighty God ; and well may his name, in whom
such things are conjoined, be called W'onderful.
By reason of the same wonderful conjunction, Christ is
represented by a great variety of sensible things, that are
on some account excellent. Thus in some places he is
called a Sun, as Mai. iv. 2. in others a Star, Numb. xxiv.
17. And he is especially represented by the Morning-
star, as being that which excels all other stars in brightness,
and is the forerunner of the day, Rev. xxii. 16. And, as
in our text, he is compared to a lion in one verse, and a
lamb in the next, so sometimes he is compared to a roe or
a young hart, another creature most diverse from a lion.
So in some places he is called a rock, in others he is com
pared to a pearl. In some places he is called a man of
war, and the Captain of our Salvation, in other places he is
represented as a bridegroom. In the second chapter of
Canticles, the 1st verse, he is compared to a rose and lily,
that are sweet and beautiful flowers ; in the next verse but
one, he is compared to a tree bearing sweet fruit. .In
Isaiah liii. 2. he is called a Root out of a dry ground ; but

elsewhere, instead of that, he is called the Tree of Life, that
grows (not in a dry or barren ground, but) " in the midst
of the paradise of God," Rev. ii. 7.
II. Let the consideration of this wonderful meeting of
diverse excellencies in Christ induce you to accept of him,
and close with him as your Saviour. As all manner of
excellencies meet in him, so there are concurring in him all
manner of arguments and motives, to move you to choose
him for your Saviour, and every thing that tends to en
courage poor sinners to come and put their trust in him :
his fulness and all-sufficiency as a Saviour gloriously ap
pear in that variety of excellencies that has been spoken of.
Fallen man is in a state of exceeding great misery, and
is helpless in it ; he is a poor weak creature, like an infant
cast out in its blood in the day that it is born. But Christ
is the Lion ofthe tribe of Judah; he is strong, though we
are weak ; he hath prevailed to do that for us which no
creature else could do. Fallen man is a mean despicable
creature, a contemptible worm ; but Christ, who has un
dertaken for us, is infinitely honourable and worthy. Fall
en man is polluted, but Christ is infinitely holy ; fallen
man is hateful, but Christ is infinitely lovely ; fallen man
is the object of God's indignation, but Christ is infinitely
dear to him. We have dreadfully provoked God, but
Christ has performed that righteousness which is infinitely
precious in God's eyes.
And here is not only infinite strength and infinite
worthiness, but infinite condescension, and love and mercy,
as great as power and dignity. If you are a poor, distress
ed sinner, whose heart is ready to sink for fear that God
never will have mercy on you, you need not be afraid to go
to Christ, for fear that he is either unable or unwilling to
help you. Here is a strong foundation, and an inex
haustible treasure, to answer the necessities of your poor
soul ; and here is infinite grace and gentleness to invite and
imbolden a poor, unworthy, fearful soul to come to it. If
Christ accepts of you, you need not fear but that you will
be safe ; for he is a strong Lion for your defence. And if
you come, you need not fear but that you shall be accept
ed ; for he is like a Lamb to all that come to him, and
receives them with infinite grace and tenderness. It is true
he has awful majesty ; he is the great God, and infinitely
high above you ; but there is this to encourage and im
bolden the poor sinner, that Christ is man as well as God ;
he is a creature, as well as the Creator ; and he is the
most humble and lowly in heart of any creature in heaven
or earth. This may well make the poor unworthy creature
bold in coming to him. You need not hesitate one mo
ment; but may run to him, and cast yourself upon him.
You will certainly be graciously and meekly received by
him. Though he is a Hon, he will only be a lion to your
enemies; but he will be a lamb to you. It could not have
been conceived, had it not been so in the person of Christ,
that there could have been so much in any Saviour, that is
inviting and tending to encourage sinners to trust in him.
Whatever your circumstances are, you need not be afraid
to come to such a Saviour as this. Be you never so wicked
a creature, here is worthiness enough ; be you never so
poor, and mean, and ignorant a creature, there is no danger
of being despised ; for though he be so much greater than
you, he is also immensely more humble than you. Any
one of you that is a father or mother, will not despise one
of your own children that comes to you in distress ; much
less danger is there of Christ despising you, if you in your
heart come to him. Here let me a little expostulate with
the poor, burdened, distressed soul.
1. What are you afraid of, that you dare not venture
your soul upon Christ? Are you afraid that he cannot save
you ; that he is not strong enough to conquer the enemies
of your soul '! But how can you desire one stronger than
the " mighty God ?" as Christ is called, Isa. ix. 6. Is
there need of greater than infinite strength ? Are you afraid
that he will not be willing to stoop so low as to take any
gracious notice of you ? But then, look on him, as he stood
in the ring of soldiers, exposing his blessed face to be buf
feted and spit upon by them ! Behold him bound with his
back uncovered to those that smote him ! And behold him
hanging on the cross ! Do you think that he that had conde
scension enough to stoop to these things, and that for his
crucifiers, will be unwilling to accept of you if you come

Disc V.

THE EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST.

687

to him? Or, are you afraid that if he does accept of you,
that God the Father will not accept of him for you ? But
consider, will God reject his own Son, in whom his infinite
delight is, and has been, from all eternity, and who is so
united to him, that if he should reject him he would reject
himself? 2. What is there that you can desire should be in a Sa
viour, that is not in Christ ? Or, wherein should you de
sire a Saviour should be otherwise than Christ is ? What
excellency is there wanting? What is there that is great 'or
good ; what is there that is venerable or winning; what
is there that is adorable or endearing ; or, what can you
think of that would be encouraging, which is not to be
found in the person of Christ ? Would you have your Sa
viour to be great and honourable, because you are not
willing to be beholden to a mean person? And, is not
Christ a person honourable enough to be worthy that you
should be dependent on him ; is he not a person high
enough to be appointed to so honourable a work as your
salvation ? Would you not only have a Saviour of high
degree, but would you have him, notwithstanding his ex
altation and dignity, to be made also of low degree, that
he might have experience of afflictions and trials, that he
might learn by the things that he has suffered, to pity them
that suffer and are tempted ? And has not Christ been made
low enough for you .' and has he not suffered enough ?
Would you not only have him possess experience of the
afflictions you now suffer, but aiso of that amazing wrath
that you fear hereafter, that he may know how to pity
those that are in danger, and afraid of it ? This Christ has
had experience of, which experience gave him a greater
sense of it, a thousand times, than you have, or any man
living has. Would you have your Saviour to be one who
is near to God, that so his mediation might be prevalent
with him ? And can you desire him to be nearer to God
than Christ is, who is his only-begotten Son, of the same
essence with the Father ? And would you not only have
him near to God, but also near to you, that you may have
free access to him ? And would you have him nearer to
you than to be in the same nature, united to you by a spi
ritual union, so close as to be fitly represented by the union
of the wife to the husband, of the branch to the vine, of
the member to the head ; yea, so as to be one spirit? For
so he will be united to you, if you accept of him. Would
you have a Saviour that has given some great and extra
ordinary testimony of mercy and love to sinners, by some
thing that he has done, as well as by what he says ? And
can you think or conceive of greater things than Christ has
done ? Was it not a great thing for him, who was God, to
take upon him human nature ; to be not only God, but man
thenceforward to all eternity? But would you look upon
suffering for sinners to be a yet greater testimony of love
to sinners, than merely doing, though it be ever so extra
ordinary a thing that he has done ? And would you desire
that a Saviour should suffer more than Christ has suffered
for sinners ? What is there wanting, or what would you
add if you could, to make, him more fit to be your Savi
our ? But further, to induce you to accept of Christ as
your Saviour, consider two things particularly.
(1.) How much Christ appears as the Lamb of God in
his invitations to you to come to him and trust in him.
With what sweet grace and kindness does he, from time to
time, call and invite you ; as Prov. viii. 4. " Unto you, O
men, I call, and my voice is to the sons of men." And
Isaiah lv. 1, 2, 3. "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye
to the waters, and he that hath no money ; come ye, buy
and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money,
and without price." How gracious is he here in inviting
every one that thirsts, and in so repeating his invitation
over and over, " Come ye to the waters ; come, buy and
eat; yea, come !" Mark the excellency of that entertain
ment which he invites you to accept of, " Come, buy wine
and milk '"your poverty, havingnothingto pay forit, shall
be no objection, — " Come, he that hath no money, come
without money, and without price !" What gracious argu
ments and expostulations he uses with you ! " Wherefore
do ye spend money for that which is not bread ? and your
labour for that which satisfieth not ? Hearken diligently
unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul
delight itself in fatness." As much as to say, It is alto

gether needless for you to continue labouring and toiling
for that which can never serve your turn, seeking rest in
the world, and in your own righteousness : — I have made
abundant provision for you, of that which is really good,
and will fully satisfy your desires, and answer your end,
and stand ready to accept of you : you need not be afraid ;
if you will come to me, I will engage to see all your
wants supplied, and you made a happy creature. As he
promises in the third verse, " Incline your ear, and come
unto me : Hear, and your soul shall live, and I will make
an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of
David." And so, Prov. ix. at the beginning. How gra
cious and sweet is the invitation there ! " Whoso is sim
ple, let him turn in hither;" let you be never so poor, ig
norant, and blind a creature, you shall be welcome. And
in the following words, Christ sets forth the provision that
he has made for you, " Come, eat of my bread, and drink
of the wine which I have mingled." You are in a poor
famishing state, and have nothing wherewith to feed your
perishing soul ; you have been seeking something, but yet
remain destitute. Hearken, how Christ calls you to eat of
his bread, and to drink of the wine that he hath mingled !
And how much like a lamb does Christ appear in Matt.
xi. 28 — 30. " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke
upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in
heart ; and ye shall find rest to your souls. For my yoke
is easy, and my burden is light." O thou poor distressed
soul ! whoever thou art, consider that Christ mentions thy
very case, when he calls to them who labour and are heavy
laden ! How he repeatedly promises you rest if you come
to him ! In the 28th verse he says, " I will give you rest."
And in the 29th verse, " Ye shall find rest to your souls."
This is what you want. This is the thing you have been
so long in vain seeking after. O how sweet would rest be
to you, if you could but obtain it ! Come to Christ, and
you shall obtain it. And hear how Christ, to encourage
you, represents himself as a lamb ! He tells you, that he
is meek and lowly in heart ; and are you afraid to come to
such a one ? And again, Rev. iii. 20. " Behold, I stand at
the door and knock : if any man hear my voice, and open
the door, I will come in to him, and I will sup with him,
and he with me." Christ condescends not only to call
you to him, but he comes to you ; he comes to your door,
and there knocks. He might send an officer and seize you
as a rebel and vile malefactor; but instead of that, he
comes and knocks at your door, and seeks that you would
receive him into your house, as your Friend and Saviour.
And he not only knocks at your door, but he stands there
waiting, while you are backward and unwilling. And not
only so, but he makes promises what he wili do for you,
if you will admit him, what privileges he will admit you
to ; he will sup with vou, and you with him." And again,
Rev. xxii. 16, 17. "I am the root and the offspring of
David, and the bright and morning star. And the Spirit
and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth, say,
come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever
will, let him take of the water of life freely." How does
Christ here graciously set before you his own winning
attractive excellency ! And how does he condescend to
declare to you not only his own invitation, but the invita
tion of the Spirit and the bride, if by any means he might
encourage you to come ! And how does he invite every
one that will, that they may " take of the water of life
freely," that they may take it as a free gift, however pre
cious it be, and though it be the water of life !
(2.) If you do come to Christ, he will appear as a Lion,'
in his glorious power and dominion, to defend you. All
those excellencies of his, in which he appears as a lion,
shall be yours, and shall be employed for you in your
defence, for your safety, and to promote your glory ; he
will be as a lion to fight against your enemies. He that
touches you, or offends you, will provoke his wrath, as he
that stirs up a lion. Unless your enemies can conquer
this Lion, they shall not be able to destroy or hurt you ;
unless they are stronger than he, they shall not be able to
hinder your happiness. Isa. xxxi. 4. " For thus hath the
Lord spoken unto me, Like as the lion and the young lion
roaring on his prey, when a multitude of shepherds is
called forth against him, he will not be afraid of their

688

FIVE DISCOURSES.

voice, nor abase himself for the noise of them ; so shall the
Lord of hosts come down to fight for mount Zion, and for
the hill thereof."
III. Let what has been said be improved to induce you
to love the Lord Jesus Christ, and choose him for your
friend and portion. As there is such an admirable meet
ing of diverse excellencies in Christ, so there is every thing
in him to render him worthy of your love and choice, and
to win and engage it. Whatsoever there is or can be
desirable in a friend, is in Christ, and that to the highest
degree that can be desired.
Would you choose for a friend a person of great dignity ?
It is a thing taking with men to have those for their friends
who are much above them ; because they look upon them
selves honoured by the friendship of such. Thus, how
taking would it be with an inferior maid to be the object
ofthe dear love of some great and excellent prince. But
Christ is infinitely above you, and above all the princes of
the earth ; for he is the King of kings. So honourable a
person as this offers himself to you, in the nearest and
dearest friendship.
And would you choose to have a friend not only great
but good ? In Christ infinite greatness and infinite good
ness meet together, and receive lustre and glory one from
another. His greatness is rendered lovely by his goodness.
The greater any one is without goodness, so much the
greater evil ; but when infinite goodness is joined with
greatness, it renders it a glorious and adorable greatness.
So, on the other hand, his infinite goodness receives lustre
from his greatness. He that is of great understanding and
ability, and is withal of a good and excellent disposition,
is deservedly more esteemed than a lower and lesser being,
with the same kind inclination and good will. Indeed
goodness is excellent in whatever subject it be found ; it
is beauty and excellency itself, and renders all excellent
that are possessed of it ; and yet most excellent when
joined with greatness. The very same excellent qualities
of gold render the body in which they are inherent more
precious, and of greater value, when joined with greater
than when with lesser dimensions. And how glorious is
the sight, to see him who is the great Creator and supreme
Lord of heaven and earth, full of condescension, tender
pity and mercy, towards the mean and unworthy ! His
almighty power, and infinite majesty and self-sufficiency,
render his exceeding love and grace the more surprising.
And how do his condescension and compassion endear
his majesty, power, and dominion, and render those attri
butes pleasant, that would otherwise be only terrible !
Would you not desire that your friend, though great and
honourable, should be of such condescension and grace,
and so to have the way opened to free access to him, that
his exaltation above you might not hinder your free enjoy
ment of his friendship ? — And would you choose not only
that the infinite greatness and majesty of your friend
should be, as it were, mollified and sweetened with con
descension and grace ; but would you also desire to have
your friend brought nearer to you ? Would you choose a
friend far above you, and yet as it were upon a level with
you too ? Though it be taking with men to have a near and
dear friend of superior dignity, yet there is also an inclina
tion in them to have their friend a sharer with them in
circumstances. Thus is Christ. Though he be the great
God, yet he has, as it were, brought himself down to be
upon a level with vou, so as to become man as you are,
that he might not "only be your Lord, but your brother,
and that he might be the more fit to be a companion for
such a worm of the dust. This is one end of Christ's
taking upon him man's nature, that his people might be
under advantages for a more familiar converse with him,
than the infinite distance of the divine nature would allow
of And upon this account the church longed for Christ's
incarnation, Cant. viii. 1. " 0 that thou wert my brother,
that sucked the breasts of my mother ! when I should find
thee without, I would kiss thee, yea, I should not be
despised." One design of God in the gospel, is to bring
us to make God the object of our undivided respect, that
he may engross our regard every way, that whatever natu
ral inclination there is in our souls, he may be the centre
of it ; that God may be all in all. But there is an inclina
tion in the creature, not only to the adoration of a Lord

and Sovereign, but to complacence in some one as a
friend, to love and delight in some one that may be con
versed with as a companion. And virtue and holiness do
not destroy or weaken this inclination of our nature. But
so hath God contrived in the affair of our redemption, that
a divine person may be the object even of this inclination
of our nature. And in order hereto, such an one is come
down to us, and has taken our nature, and is become one
of us, and calls himself our friend, brother, and com
panion. Psal. cxxii. 8. " For my brethren and com
panions' sake, will I now say, Peace be within thee."
But is it not enough in order to invite and encourage
you to free access to a friend so great and high, that he is
one of infinite condescending grace, and also has taken
your own nature, and is become man ? But would you,
further to imbolden and win you, have him a man of
wonderful meekness and humility ? Why, such an one is
Christ ! He is not only become man for you, but far the
meekest and most humble of all men, the greatest instance of
these sweet virtues that ever was, or will be. And besides
these, he has all other human excellencies in the highest
perfection. These, indeed, are no proper addition to his
divine excellencies. Christ has no more excellency in his
person, since his incarnation, than he had before; for
divine excellency is infinite, and cannot be added to. Yet
his human excellencies are additional manifestations of his
glory and excellency to us, and are additional recom
mendations of him to our esteem and love, who are of
finite comprehension. Though his human excellencies are
but communications and reflections of his divine ; and
though this light, as reflected, falls infinitely short of the
divine fountain of light in its immediate glory ; yet the
reflection shines not without its proper advantages, as
presented to our view and affection. The glory of Christ
in the qualifications of his human nature, appears to us in
excellencies that are of our own kind, and are exercised in
our own way and manner ; and so, in some respects, are
peculiarly fitted to invite our acquaintance and draw our
affection. The glory of Christ as it appears in his divinity,
though far brighter, more dazzles our eyes, and exceeds
the strength of our sight or our comprehension ; but, as it
shines in the human excellencies of Christ, it is brought
more to a level with our conceptions, and suitableness to
our nature and manner, yet retaining a semblance of the
same divine beauty, and a savour of the same divine
sweetness. But as both divine and human excellencies
meet together in Christ, they set off and recommend each
other to us. It tends to endear the divine majesty and
holiness of Christ to us, that these are attributes of one in
our nature, one of us, who is become our brother, and is
the meekest and humblest of men. It encourages us to
look upon these divine perfections, however high and
great ; since we have some near concern in, and liberty
freely to enjoy them. And on the other hand, how much
more glorious and surprising do the meekness, the hu
mility, obedience, resignation, and other human excellen
cies of Christ appear, when we consider that they are in so
great a person, as the eternal Son of God, the Lord of
heaven and earth !
By your choosing Christ for your friend and portion,
you will obtain these two infinite benefits.
1. Christ will give himself to you, with all those va
rious excellencies that meet in him, to your full and ever
lasting enjoyment. He will ever after treat vou as his
dear friend ; and you shall ere long be where he is, and
shall behold his glory, and dwell with him, in most free
and intimate communion and enjoyment.
When the saints get to heaven, they shall not merely
see Christ, and have to do with him as subjects and ser
vants with a glorious and gracious Lord and Sovereign,
but Christ will entertain them as friends and brethren.
This we may learn from the manner of Christ's convers
ing with his disciples here on earth : though he was their
sovereign Lord, and did not refuse, but required, their
supreme respect and adoration, yet he did not treat them
as earthly sovereigns are wont to do their subjects. He
did not keep them at an awful distance ; but all along
conversed with them with the most friendly familiarity, as
a father amongst a company of children, yea, as with bre
thren. So he did with the twelve, and so he did with

Disc V.

THE EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST.

689

Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. He told his disciples, that
he did not call them servants, but friends ; and we read
of one of them that leaned on his bosom : and doubtless
he will not treat his disciples with less freedom and en
dearment in heaven. He will not keep them at a greater
distance for his being in a state of exaltation ; but he will
rather take them into a state of exaltation with him. This
will be the improvement Christ will make of his own
glory, to make his beloved friends partakers with him, to
glorify them in his glory, as he says to his Father, John
xvii. 22, 23. " And the glory which thou hast given me,
have I given them, that they may be one, even as we are
one ; I in them," &c. We are to consider, that though
Christ is greatly exalted, yet he is exalted, not as a private
person for himself only, but as his people's head ; he is
exalted in their name, and upon their account, as the first
fruits, and as representing the whole harvest. He is not
exalted that he may be at a greater distance from them,
but that they may be exalted with him. The exaltation
and honour of the head is not to make a greater distance
between the head and the members ; but the members
have the same relation and union with the head they had
before, and are honoured with the head ; and instead of
the distance being greater, the union shall be nearer and
more perfect. When believers get to heaven, Christ will
conform them to himself; as he is set down in his Father's
throne, so they shall sit down with him on his throne, and
shall in their measure be made like him.
When Christ was going to heaven, he comforted his
disciples with the thought, that after a while, he would
come again and take them to himself, that they might be
with him. And we are not to suppose that when the dis
ciples got to heaven, they found him keeping a greater
distance than he used to do. No, doubtless, he embraced
them as friends, and welcomed them to his and their Fa
ther's house, and to his and their glory. They who had
been his friends in this world, who had been together with
him here, and had together partaken of sorrows and trou
bles, are now welcomed by him to rest, and to partake of
glory with him. He took them and led them into his
chambers, and showed them all his glory ; as he prayed,
John xvii. 24. " Father, I will that they also whom ihou
hast given me, be with me, that they may behold the glory
which thou hast given me." And he led them to his liv
ing fountains of waters, and made them partake of his
delights; as he prays, John xvii. 13. " That my joy may
be fulfilled in themselves ;" and set them down with him
at his table in his kingdom, and made them partake with
him of his dainties, according to his promise, Luke xxii.
30. and led them into his banqueting house, and made them
to drink new wine with him in the kingdom of his hea
venly Father, as he foretold them when he instituted the
Lord's supper, Matt. xxvi. 29.
Yea, the saints' conversation with Christ in heaven shall
not only be as intimate, and their access to him as free, as
of the disciples on earth, but in many respects much more
so ; for in heaven, that vital union shall be perfect, which
is exceeding imperfect here. While the saints are in this
world, there are great remains of sin and darkness, to se
parate or disunite them from Christ, which shall then all
be removed. This is not a time for that full acquaintance,
and those glorious manifestations of love, which Christ de
signs for his people hereafter ; which seems to be signified
by his speech to Mary Magdalene, when ready to embrace
him, when she met him after his resurrection ; John xx.
17. "Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not
yet ascended to my Father."
When the saints shall see Christ's glory and exaltation
in heaven, it will indeed possess their hearts with the
greater admiration and adoring respect, but will not awe
them into any separation, but will serve only to heighten
their surprise and joy, when they find Christ conde
scending to admit them to such intimate access, and
so freely and fully communicating himself lo them. So
that if we choose Christ for our friend and portion, we shall

hereafter be so received to him, that there shall be nothing
to hinder the fullest enjoyment of him, to the satisfying
the utmost cravings of our souls. We may take our full
swing at gratifying our spiritual appetite after these holy
pleasures. Christ will then say, as in Cant. v. 1. " Eat,
O friends, drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved." And
this shall be our entertainment to all eternity ! There shall
never be any end of this happiness, or any thing to inter
rupt our enjoyment of it, or in the least to molest us in ill
2. By your being united to Christ, you will have a
more glorious union with and enjoyment of God the Fa
ther, than otherwise could be. For hereby the saints' re
lation to God becomes much nearer ; they are the children
of God in a higher manner than otherwise could be. For,
being members of God's own Son, they are in a sort par
takers of his relation to the Father: they are not only
sons of God by regeneration, but by a kind of communion
in the sonship of the eternal Son. This seems to be in
tended, Gal. iv. 4, 5, 6. " God sent forth his Son, made
of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that are
under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons.
And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit
of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father." The
church is the daughter of God, not only as he hath begot
ten her by his word and Spirit, but as she is the spouse of
his eternal Son.
So we being members of the Son, are partakers in our
measure of the Father's love to the Son, and complacence
in him. John xvii. 23. "I in them, and thou in me, —
Thou hast loved them as thou hast loved me." And ver.
26. " That the love wherewith thou hast loved me may
be in them." And chap. xvi. 27. " The Father himself
loveth you, because ye have loved me, and have believed
that I came out from God." So we shall, according to
our capacities, be partakers of the Son's enjoyment of
God, and have his joy fulfilled in ourselves, John xvii. 13.
And by this means we shall come to an immensely higher,
more intimate and full enjoyment of God, than otherwise
could have been. For there is doubtless an infinite inti
macy between the Father and the Son ; which is express
ed by his being in the bosom of the Father. And saints
being in him, shall, in their measure and manner, partake
with him in it, and ofthe blessedness of it.
And thus is the affair of our redemption ordered, that
therebv we are brought to an immensely more exalted
kind of union with God, and enjoyment of him, both the
Father and the Son, than otherwise could have been. For
Christ being united to the human nature, we have ad
vantage for a more free and full enjoyment of him, than
we could have had if he had remained only in the divine
nature. So again, we being united to a divine person, as
his members, can have a more intimate union and inter
course with God the Father, who is only in the divine
nature, than otherwise could be. Christ, who is a divine
person, bv taking on him our nature, descends from the
infinite distance and height above us, and is brought nigh
to us ; whereby we have advantage for the full enjoyment
of him. And, on the other hand, we, by being in Christ a
divine person, do as it were ascend up to God, through
the infinite distance, and have hereby advantage for the
full enjoyment of him also.
This was the design of Christ, that he, and his Father,
and his people, might all be united in one. John xvii.
21 — 23. " That they all may be one, as thou, Father, art
in me, and I in thee ; that they also may be one in us ;
that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. And
the glory which thou hast given me, I have given them,
that they may be one, even as we are one ; I in them and
thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one."
Christ has brought it to pass, that those whom the Father
has given him should be brought into the household of
God ; that he and his Father, and his people, should be as
one society, one family; that the church should be as it
were admitted into the society ofthe blessed Trinity.

2 v

THEOLOGICAL QUESTIONS.

1. How does it appear that something has existed from
eternity ?
2. How does it appear that this earth and the visible
system are not from eternity ?
3. How does it appear that the existence of man is de
rived and dependent !
'4. How do you prove the natural perfections of God,
viz. his intelligence, infinite power, foreknowledge, and
immutability ?
5. How do you prove his moral perfections, that he
is a friend of virtue, or absolutely holy, true, just, and
good ?
6. How do you prove that the Scriptures are a revelation
from God ? And what are the evidences, internal and ex
ternal ?
7. How do you prove the divine mission of Christ ?
8. How do you prove the divinity of Christ ?
9. How do you prove the personality and divinity of
the Holy Ghost ?
10. How do you prove that the persons in the Trinity
are one God ?
11. Whence arose the Manichean notion of two Gods,
and how is it confuted ?
12. Whence arose the polytheism of the pagans, and
how confuted ?
13. Whence was it that the knowledge of the one true
God, in which Noah was instructed, was not preserved
among his posterity in all ages ?
14. Why are not mankind in all ages Ctheir internal
faculties and external advantages being sufficient) united
in right sentiments of the one true God ?
15. Were the moral character of God and the moral
law understood and loved, would there be any objections
against revealed religion ?
16. What is the true idea of God's decrees ?
17. How do you prove absolute and particular elec
tion? 18. Did God decree the existence of sin ?
19. Why did God decree sin ?
20. In what sense did he introduce sin into the universe ?
21. How do you reconcile this with the holiness and
goodness of God ?
22. What is necessary to constitute a moral agent ?
23. Are men moral and free agents ?
24. What is the difference between natural and moral
power and inability ?
25. How is absolute moral necessity, or inability, con
sistent with the free agency of men ?
26. How is the doctrine of universal, absolute decrees,
consistent with the free agency of men ?
27. How do you prove an universal and special provi
dence ?
28. What is the covenant of redemption ?
29. If man was created in original righteousness, how
is that consistent with moral agency ? It being said that a
necessary holiness is no holiness.
30. What was the constitution under which Adam in
innocency was placed ?

31. Was Adam under the same necessity of falling that
we are of sinning ?
32. Are all intelligencies bound to love God supremely,
sinners and devils ?
33. Is the law holy, just, and good, and how is it proved?
34. Are they, who are under its curse, bound to delight
in it ?
35. How great is the demerit of sin '!
36. Are the torments of hell eternal?
37. How do you reconcile them with the justice and
infinite goodness of God'
38. How do you reconcile them with those texts which
say Christ died for all men, that God will not that any
should perish ?
39. How does it appear that human nature is originally
depraved ?
40. Whence comes that depravity ?
41. How is it proved to be total ?
42. What is the covenant of grace ?
43. Are the law and gospel inconsistent with each
other ?
44. Why was an atonement, and one so precious as the
blood of Christ, necessary ?
45. In what manner did Christ atone for sin ?
46. To whom doth it belong to provide an atonement,
God, or the sinner ?
47. Did Christ redeem all men alike, elect and non-
elect ?
48. Can the offer of the gospel be made in sincerity to
the non-elect ?
49. How is redemption applied ?
50. What is the office of the Holy Ghost in the work
of redemption ?
51. What is regeneration ?
52. Whence arises the necessity of it ?
53. What is true love to God ?
54. What is true benevolence to men ?
55. What is true repentance, and how distinguished
from legal ?
56. What is true faith ?
57. What is pardon and justification ? What is their
foundation, and what is the influence of faith therein ?
58. How are full satisfaction and free pardon con
sistent ?
59. Is the sinner forgiven before he repents ?
60. Is sanctifying grace needful at all to any man, un
less with respect to that which is his duty, and in neglect
of which he would be without excuse ?
61. What is the sum of man's duty, and what the
effect produced by the sanctifying influence of the Holy
Spirit. 62. Can that holy volition in us, which is the effect of
divine power, be wholly our act, or our duty ?
63. How is it proved that unbelief is sin, and that all
errors in moral matters are of a criminal nature ?
64. Will the wicked heathens, Jews, infidels, and
errorists of every kind, be without excuse at the day of
judgment ?

THEOLOGICAL QUESTIONS.

691

65. What is the essence of true virtue, or holiness ?
66. Is there no virtue in the exercise of natural con
science, the moral sense, natural compassion, and gene
rosity ?
67. Is not self-love the root of all virtue ?
68. Do not the unregenerate desire to be regenerated,
and can they not properly pray for regenerating grace ?
69. Do they not desire the heavenly happiness ?
70. What is the utmost the unregenerate do in the use
of the means of grace ?
71. Is any duty done by them therein ?
72. Do they grow better in the use of means ?
73. To what are they to be exhorted ?
74. What is the real advantage of the assiduous use of
means to the unregenerate ?
75. How do you prove that the institution of the Sab
bath is of perpetual obligation ?
76. How is it that the Sabbath is changed from the
seventh to the first day of the week ?

77. How do you prove that public worship is to be
celebrated on the Sabbath ?
78. What is the foundation of the duty of prayer, since
God is omniscient and immutable ?
79. How do you prove that family prayer is a duty ?
80. To whom are the promises of the gospel made, to
the regenerate, or unregenerate ?
81. Are no encouragements given to the unregene
rate? 82. How do you prove the saints' perseverance ?
83. What is the nature of a christian church ?
84. Who are fit for communion therein ?
85. What is the nature and import of baptism?
86. How do you prove infant baptism ?
87. What is the nature of the Lord's supper?
88. What are the rules and end of church discipline?
89. What is the character of a good minister of Christ?
90. In what does the happiness of heaven consist ?

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

BUNGAY: PRINTED BY J. R. AND C. CHILDS.

THE WORKS

JONATHAN EDWARDS, A.M.

AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS AND WRITINGS,

BY HENRY ROGERS.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

LONDON:
F. WESTLEY AND A. H. DAVIS, STATIONERS' COURT.
NEW YORK :
DANIEL APPLETON AND CO., 200, BROADWAY.
PRINTED BY J R. AND C. CH1LDS, BUNGAY
MDCCCXXXV.

CONTENTS.

I. Two Sermons.
Serm. I. God glorified in Man's Dependence
II. Sinners in the Hands of an angry God
II, Five Sermons on Different Occasions -
^4*ti,c^im,'S rtf-rrvej*.i,i>i6^r trtfixfy 4$trcy\<i /Cod
-HI. Fifteen Sermons on Various Subjects

IV. Seven Sermons on Important Subjects . - • 1

SiUrttcflir*.

Men naturally God's Enemies - - - 130
The Wisdom of God displayed in the Way of
Salvation - - 141
Christian Knowledge 157
Christian Charity - 163
Christian Cautions - - 173
A Warning to Professors - 185
The Final Judgment - - 190
Sinners in Zion tenderly warned - - 201
The End of the Wicked contemplated by the
Righteous - - 207
Christ exalted - 213
Self-Flatteries - - - - - 217
Dishonesty ; or, The Sin of Theft and Injustice - 220
Temptation and Deliverance - - 226
The Preciousness of Time - 233
Procrastination - - 237

The Christian Pilgrim
Man's natural Blindness in Religion

PAGE - 243
- 247

VI. Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spirit
of God - - 2.57
VII. An Humble Attempt to Promote Explicit Agree
ment, &c.
Part I. The Text opened, and an Account of the
Affair proposed - - 280
Part II. Motives to Compliance with what is pro
posed - - 284
Part III. Objections Answered - 296
VIII. Life and Diary of the Rev. David Brainerd - 313
Mr. Brainerd's Journal, in Two Parts - 387
First Appendix - - 416
Second Appendix - 420
Third Appendix - - 431
Mr. Brainerd's Remains 435
Detach-ed Papers - - 440
Reflections and Observations - 447
IX. Miscellaneous Observations on Important Theo
logical Subjects - - 459

X. Seventeen Occasional Sermons

817

SERMONS.

TWO SERMONS:

GOD GLORIFIED IN THE WORK OF REDEMPTION, BY THE GREATNESS OF MAN'S
DEPENDENCE UPON HIM IN THE WHOLE OF IT.
II.
SINNERS IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD.
Judges vii. 2.— Lest Israel vaunt themselves against me, saying, Mine own hand hath saved _ic

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER,
RESPECTING THE FIRST SERMON.
It was with no small difficulty that tlie author's youth and modesty were prevailed on to let him appear a preacher
in our public lecture, and afterwards to give us a copy of his discourse, at the desire of divers ministers and others who
heard ft. But as we quickly found him a workman that needs not to be ashamed before his brethren, our satisfaction
was the greater to see him pitching upon so noble a subject, and treating it with so much strength and clearness, as the
judicious reader will perceive in the following composure : a subject which secures to God his great design in the work
of fallen man's redemption by the Lord Jesus Christ, which is evidently so laid out, as that the glory of the whole
should return to him, the blessed ordainer, purchaser, and applier ; a subject which enters deep into practical religion ;
without the belief of which, that must soon die in the hearts and lives of men.
For in proportion to the sense we have of our dependence on the sovereign God for all the good we want, will be our
value for him, our application to him, our trust in him, our fear to offend him, and our care to please him ; as like
wise our gratitude and love, our delight and praise, upon our sensible experience of his free benefits.
In short, it is the very soul of piety, to apprehend and own that all our springs are in him ; the springs of our pre
sent grace and comfort, and of our future glory and blessedness ; and that they all entirely flow through Christ, by the
efficacious influence of the Holy Spirit. By these things saints live, and in all these things is the life of our spirits.
Such doctrines as these, which, by humbling the minds of men, prepare them for the exaltations of God, he has
signally owned and prospered in the reformed world, and in our land especially, in the days of our forefathers ; and we
hope they will never grow unfashionable among us : for, we are well assured, if those which we call the doctrines of
grace ever come to be contemned or disrelished, vital piety will proportionably languish and wear away ; as these doc
trines always sink in the esteem of men upon the decay of serious religion.
We cannot therefore but express our joy and thankfulness, that the great Head of the church is pleased still to raise
up from among the children of his people, for the supply of his churches, those who assert and maintain these evan
gelical principles ; and that our churches (notwithstanding all their degeneracies) have still a high value for such prin
ciples, and for those who publicly own and teach them.
And as we cannot but wish and pray that the college in the neighbouring colony (as well as our own) may be a
fruitful mother of many such sons as the author, by the blessing of Heaven on the care of their present worthy rector ;
so we heartily rejoice in the special favour of Providence in bestowing such a rich gift on the happy church of North
ampton, which has for so many lustres of years flourished under the influence of such pious doctrines, taught them in
the excellent ministry of their late venerable pastor, whose gift and spirit, we hope, will long live and shine in this his
grandson, to the end that they may abound yet more in all the lovely fruits of evangelical humility and thankfulness,
to the glory of God.
To his blessing we commit them all, with this discourse, and every one that reads it ; and are
Your servants in the gospel,
T. PRINCE.
W. COOPER.
Boston, August 17, 1731.

SERMON I.*

GOD GLORIFIED IN MAN'S DEPENDENCE.

1 Cor. i. 29, 30, 31.
That no flesh should glory in his presence. But qf him
are ye in Christ Jesus, who qf God is made unto us
wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and re
demption : that, according us it is written, He that
glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.
Those Christians to whom the apostle directed this
epistle, dwelt in a part of the world where human wisdom
was in great repute; as the apostle observes in the 22d
verse of this chapter, "llie Greeks seek after wisdom."
Corinth was not far from Athens, that had been for many
ages the most famous seat of philosophy and learning in
the world. The apostle therefore observes to them, how
God by the gospel destroyed, and brought to nought, their
wisdom. The learned Grecians, and their great philoso
phers, by all their wisdom did not know God, they were
not able to find out the truth in divine things. But, after
they had done their utmost to no effect, it pleased God at
length to reveal himself by the gospel, which they ac
counted foolishness. He "chose the foolish things of the
world to confound the wise, and the weak things of the
world to confound the things which are mighty, and the
base things of the world, and things that are despised,
yea, and things which are not, to Dring to nought the
things that are." And the apostle informs them in the
text why he thus did, That no flesh should glory in his
presence, &c— — In which words may be observed,
1. What God aims at in the disposition of things
in the affair of redemption, vis. that man should not glory
in himself, but alone in God ; That no flesh should glory
in his presence, — that, according as it is written, He that
glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.
2. How this end is attained in the work of redemption,
viz. by that absolute and immediate dependence which
men have upon God in that work, for all their good. In
asmuch as,
First, All the good that they have in and through Christ ;
He is made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification,
and redemption. All the good of the fallen and redeemed
creature is concerned in these four things, and cannot be
better distributed than into them ; but Christ is each of
them to us, and we have none of them any otherwise than
in him. He is made qf God unto us wisdom : in him are
all the proper good and true excellency of the understand
ing. Wisdom was a thing that the Greeks admired ; but
Christ is the true light of the world ; it is through him
alone that true wisdom is imparted to the mind. It is in
and by Christ that we have righteousness : it is by being
in him that we are justified, have our sins pardoned, and
are received as righteous into God's favour. It is by
Christ that we have sanctification : we have in him true
excellency of heart as well as of understanding ; and he
is made unto us inherent as well as imputed righteousness.
It is by Christ that we have redemption, or the actual de
liverance from -all misery, and the bestowment of all hap
piness and glory. Thus we have all our good by Christ,
who is God.
Secondly, Another instance wherein our dependence on
God for all our good appears, is this, That it is God that
has given us Christ, that we might have these benefit-
through him ; he qf God is made unto us wisdom, righteous
ness, &c.
* Preached on the Public Lecture in Boston, July 8, 1731 ; and published
at the desire of several ministers and others in Boston who heard it.  This
B 2

Thirdly, It is of him that we are in Christ Jesus, and
come to have an interest in him, and so do receive those
blessings which he is made unto us. It is God that gives
us faith whereby we close with Christ.
So that in this verse is shown our dependence on each
person in the Trinity for all our good. We are dependent
on Christ the Son of God, as he is our wisdom, righteous
ness, sanctification, and redemption. We are dependent
on the Father, who has given us Christ, and made him to
be these things to us. We are dependent on the Holy
Ghost, for it is of him that we are in Christ Jesus ; it is
the Spirit of God that gives faith in him, whereby we re
ceive nim, and close with him.

DOCTRINE.
" God is glorified in the work of redemption in this,
that there appears in it so absolute and universal a de
pendence ofthe redeemed on him."  Here I propose to
show, 1st, That there is an absolute and universal depend
ence of the redeemed on God for all their good. And,
Idly, That God hereby is exalted and glorified in the work
of redemption.
I. There is an absolute and universal dependence of
the redeemed on God. The nature and contrivance of
our redemption is such, that the redeemed are in every
thing directly, immediately, and entirely dependent on
God : they are dependent on him for all, and are de
pendent oh him every way.
The several ways wherein the dependance of one being
may be upon another for its good, and wherein the re
deemed of Jesus Christ depend on God for all their good,
are these, viz. That they have all their good of him, and
that they have all through him, and that they have all in
him : That he is the cause and original whence all their
good comes, therein it is qf him ; and that he is the medium
by which it is obtained and conveyed, therein they have
it through him ; and that he is the good itself given and
conveyed, therein it is in him. Now those that are re
deemed by Jesus Christ do, in all these respects, very
directly and entirely depend on God for their all.
First, The redeemed have all their good of God. God
is the great author of it. He is the first cause of it ; and
not only so, but he is the only proper cause. It is of God
that we have our Redeemer. It is God that has provided
a Saviour for us. Jesus Christ is not only of God in his
person, as he is the only-begotten Son of God, but he is
from God, as we are concerned in him, and in his office
of Mediator. He is the gift of God to us : God chose
and anointed him, appointed him his work, and sent him
into the world. And as it is God that gives, so it is God
that accepts the Saviour. He gives the purchaser, and he
affords the thing purchased.
It is of God that Christ becomes ours, that we are
brought to him, and are united to him. It is of God that
we receive faith to close with him, that we may have an
interest in him. Eph. ii. 8. " For by grace ye are saved,
through faith ; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of
God. It is of God that we actually receive all the bene
fits th_t Christ has purchased. It is God that pardons
and justifies, and delivers from going down to hell ; and
into bis favour the redeemed are received, when they are
justified. So it is God that delivers from the dominion of
was the first piece published by Mr. Edwards.

TWO SERMONS.

sin, cleanses us from our filthiness, and changes us from
our deformity. It is of God that the redeemed receive all
their true excellency, wisdom, and holiness ; and that two
ways, viz. as the Holy Ghost by whom these things are
immediately wrought "is from God, proceeds from him,
and is sent by him ; and also as the Holy Ghost himself
is God, by whose operation and indwelling the knowledge
of God and divine things, a holy disposition and all grace,
are conferred and upheld. And though means are made
use of in conferring grace on men's souls, yet it is of God
that we have these means of grace, and it is he that makes
them effectual. It is of God that we have the Holy Scrip
tures ; they are his word. It is of God that we have or
dinances, and their efficacy depends on the immediate
influence of his Spirit. The ministers of the gospel are
sent of God, and all their sufficiency is of him — 2 Cor.
iv. 7. " We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the
excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us."
Their success depends entirely and absolutely on the im
mediate blessing and influence of God.
1 . The redeemed have all from the grace of God. It
was of mere grace that God gave us his only-begotten
Son. The grace is great in proportion to the excellency of
what is given. The gift was infinitely precious, because
it was of a person infinitely worthy, a person of infinite
glory ; and also because it was of a person infinitely near
and dear to God. Tlie grace is great in proportion to the
benefit we have given us in him. The benefit is doubly
infinite, in that in him we have deliverance from an infi
nite, because an eternal, misery, and do also receive eternal
joy and glory. The grace in bestowing this gift is great in
proportion to our unworthiness to whom it is given ; in
stead of deserving such a gift, we merited infinitely ill of
God's hands. The grace is great according to the manner
of giving, or in proportion to the humiliation and expense
of the method and means by which a way is made for our
having the gift. He gave him to dwell amongst us ; he
gave him to us incarnate, or in our nature ; and in the
like though sinless infirmities. He gave him to us in a
low and afflicted state ; and not only so, but as slain, that
he might be a feast for our souls.
The grace of God in bestowing this gift is most free. It
was what God was under no obligation to bestow. He
might have rejected fallen man, as he did the fallen angels.
It was what we never did any thing to merit ; it was given
while we were yet enemies, and before we had so much as
repented. It was from the love of God who saw no ex
cellency in us to attract it ; and it was without expecta
tion of ever being requited for it. — And it is from mere
grace that the benefits of Christ are applied to such and
such particular persons. Those that are called and sanc
tified are to attribute it alone to the good pleasure of God's
goodness, by which they are distinguished. He is sove
reign, and hath mercy on whom he will have mercy.
Man hath now a greater dependence on the grace of
God than he had before the fall. He depends on the free
goodness of God for much more than he did then. Then
he depended on God's goodness for conferring the reward
of perfect obedience ; for God was not obliged to promise
and bestow that reward. But now we are dependent on
the grace of God for much more ; we stand in need of
grace, not only to bestow glory upon us, but to deliver us
from hell and eternal wrath. Under the first covenant we
depended on God's goodness to give us the reward of
righteousness ; and so we do now : but we stand in need
of God's free and sovereign grace to give us that right
eousness ; to pardon our sin, and release us from the guilt
and infinite demerit of it.
And as we are dependent on the goodness of God for
more now than under the first covenant, so we are depend
ent on a much greater, more free and wonderful goodness.
We are now more dependent on God's arbitrary and sover
eign good pleasure. We were in our first estate dependent
on God for holiness. We had our original righteousness
from him ; but then holiness was not bestowed in such a
way of sovereign good pleasure as it is now. Man was
created holy, for it became God to create holy all his rea
sonable creatures. It would have been a disparagement
to the holiness of God's nature, if he had made an intelli
gent creature unholy. -But now when fallen man is made

holy, it is from mere and arbitrary grace ; God may for
ever deny holiness to the fallen creature if he pleases,
without any disparagement to any of his perfections.
And we are not only indeed more dependent on the
grace of God, but our dependence is much more conspi
cuous, because our own insufficiency and helplessness in
ourselves is much more apparent in our fallen and undone
state, than it was before we were either sinful or miserable.
We are more apparently dependent on God for holiness,
because we are first sinful, and utterly polluted, and after
ward holy. So the production of the effect is sensible,
and its derivation from God more obvious. If man was
ever holy and always was so, it would not be so apparent,
that he had not holiness necessarily, as an inseparable
qualification of human nature. So we are more appar
ently dependent on free grace for the favour of God, for
we are first justly the objects of his displeasure, and after
wards are received into favour. We are more apparently
dependent on God for happiness, being first miserable,
and afterwards happy. It is more apparently free and
without merit in us, because we are actually without any
kind of excellency to merit, if there could be any such
tiling as merit iu creature-excellencv. And we are not
only without any true excellency, but are full of, and
wholly defiled with, that which is infinitely odious. All
our good is more apparently from God, because we are
first naked and wholly without any good, and afterwards
enriched with all good.
2. We receive all from the power of God. Man's re
demption is often spoken of as a work of wonderful power
as well as grace. The great power of God appears in
bringing a sinner from his low state, from the depths of
sin and misery, to such an exalted state of holiness and
happiness. Eph. i. 19. " And what is the exceeding
greatness of his power to us-ward who believe, according
to the working ot his mighty power."- —
We are dependent on God s power through every step
of our redemption. We are dependent on the power of
God to convert us, and give faith in Jesus Christ, and the
new nature. It is a work of creation : " If any man be
in Christ, he is a new creature," 2 Cor. v. 17. "We are
created in Christ Jesus," Eph. ii. 10. The fallen creature
cannot attain to true holiness, but by being created again.
Eph. iv. 24. " And that ye put on the new man, which
after God is created in righteousness and true holiness."
It is a raising from the dead. Colos. ii. 12, 13. " Wherein
also ye are risen with him through tbe faith of the opera
tion of God, who hath raised him from the dead." Yea,
it is a more glorious work of power than mere creation, or
raising a dead body to life, in that the effect attained is
greater and more excellent. That holy and happy being,
and spiritual life, which is produced in the work of con
version, is a far greater and more glorious effect, than
mere being and life. And the state from whence the
change is made — a death in sin, a total corruption of
nature, and depth of misery — is far more remote from the
state attained, than mere death or non-entity.
It is by God's power also that we are preserved in a
state of grace. 1 Pet. i. 5. " Who are kept by the power
of God through faith unto salvation." As grace is at first
from God, so it is continually from him, and is. maintained
by him, as much as light in the atmosphere is all day long
from the sun, as well as at first dawning, or sun-rising. —
Men are dependent on the power of God for every exer
cise of grace, and for carrying on that work in the heart,
for subduing sin and corruption, increasing holy principles,
and enabling to bring forth fruit in good works. Man is
dependent on divine power in bringing grace to its perfec
tion, in making the soul completely amiable in Christ's
glorious likeness, and filling of it with a satisfying joy
and blessedness ; and for the raising of the body to life,
and to such a perfect state, that it shall be suitable for a
habitation and organ for a soul so perfected and blessed.
These are the most glorious effects of the power of God,
that are seen in the series of God's acts with respect to the
creatures. Man was dependent on the power of God in his first
estate, but he is more dependent on his power now ; he
needs God's powerto do more things for him, and depends
on a more wonderful exercise of his power. It was an

Serm. 1.

GOD GLORIFIED IN MAN'S DEPENDENCE.

effect of the power of God to make man holy at the first ;
but more remarkably so now, because there is a great deal
of opposition and difficulty in the way. It is a more
glorious effect of power to make that holy that was so
depraved, and under the dominion of sin, than to confer
holiness on that which before had nothing of the contrary.
It is a more glorious work of power to rescue a soul out
of the hands of the devil, and from the powers of dark
ness, and to bring it into a state of salvation, than to confer
holiness where there was no prepossession or opposition .
Luke xi. 21, 22. " When a strong man armed keepeth his
palace, his goods are in peace ; but when a stronger than
he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he taketh
from him all his armour, wherein he trusted, and divideth
his spoils." So it is a more glorious work of power to
uphold a soul in a state of grace and holiness, and to carry
it on till it is brought to glory, when there is so much sin
remaining in the heart resisting, and Satan with all his
might opposing, than it would have been to have kept man
from falling at first, when Satan had nothing in man. —
Thus we have shown how the redeemed are dependent on
God for all their good, as they have all of him.
Secondly, They are also dependent on God for all, as
they have all through him. God is the medium of it, as
well as the author and fountain of it. All we have,
wisdom, the pardon of sin, deliverance from hell, accept
ance into God's favour, grace and holiness, true comfort
and happiness, eternal life and glory, is from God by a
Mediator ; and this Mediator is God ; which Mediator we
have an absolute dependence upon, as he through whom
we receive all. So that here is another way wherein we
have our dependence on God for all good. God not only
gives us the Mediator, and accepts his mediation, and of his
power and grace bestows the things purchased by the
Mediator; but he the Mediator is God.
Our blessings are what we have by purchase ; and the
purchase is made of God, the blessings are purchased of
him, and God gives the purchaser ; and not only so, but
God is the purchaser. Yea God is both the purchaser and
the price ; for Christ, who is God, purchased these bless
ings for us, by offering up himself as the price of our
salvation. He purchased eternal life by the sacrifice of
himself. Heb. vii. 27. " He offered up himself." And ix.
26. " He hath appeared to take away sin by the sacrifice
of himself." Indeed it was the human nature that was
offered ; but it was the same person with the divine, and
therefore was an infinite price.
As we thus have our good through God, we have a
dependence on hirn in a respect that man in his first estate
had not. Man was to have eternal life then through his
own righteousness ; so that he had partly a dependence
upon what was in himself; for we have a dependence upon
that through which we have our good, as well as that from
which we have it : and though man's righteousness that
he then depended on was indeed from God, yet it was his
own, it was inherent in himself; so that his dependence
was not so immediately on God. But now the righteous
ness that we are dependent on is not in ourselves, but in
God. We are saved through the righteousness of Christ :
He is made unto us righteousness ; and therefore is pro
phesied of, Jer. xxiii. 6. under that name, " the Lord our
righteousness." In that the righteousness we are justified
by is the righteousness of Christ, it is the righteousness of
God. 2 Cor. v. 21. " That we might be made the right
eousness of God in him." — Thus in redemption we have
not only all things of God, but by and through him, 1 Cor.
viii. 6. " But to us there is but one God, the Father, of
whom are all things, and we in him ; and one Lord Jesus
Christ, by whom are all things, and we by him."
Thirdly, The redeemed have all their good in God. We
not only have it of him, and through him, but it consists
in him ; he is all our good. — The good of the redeemed is
either objective or inherent. By their objective good, I
mean that extrinsic object, in the possession and enjoy
ment of which they are happy. Their inherent good is
that excellency or pleasure which is in the soul itself.
With respect to both of which the redeemed have all their
'good in ,God, or which is the same thing, God himself is
all their good.
1. The redeemed have all their objective good in God.

God himself is the great good which they are brought to
the possession and enjoyment of by redemption. He is
the highest good, and the" sum of all that good which Christ
purchased. God is the inheritance of the saints; he is
the portion of their souls. God is their wealth and trea
sure, their food, their life, their dwelling-place, their orna
ment and diadem, and their everlasting honour and glory.
They have none in heaven but God ; he is the great good
which the redeemed are received to at death, and which
they are to rise to at the end of the world. The Lord God is
the light of the heavenly Jerusalem ; and is the " river of
the water of life " that runs, and " the tree of life that
grows, in the midst of the paradise of God." The glorious
excellencies and beauty of God will be what will for ever
entertain the minds ' of (he saints, and the love of God
will be their everlasting feast. Tlie redeemed will indeed
enjoy other things ; they will enjoy the angels, and will
enjoy one another : but that which they shall enjoy in the
angels, or each other, or in any thing else whatsoever that
will yield them delight and happiness, will be what shall
be seen of God in them.
2. The redeemed have all their inherent good in God.
Inherent good is twofold ; it is either excellency or plea
sure. These the redeemed not only derive from God, as
caused by him, but have them in him . They have spiritual
excellency and joy by a kind of participation of God.
They are made excellent by a communication of God's
excellency. God puts his own beauty, i. e. his beautiful
likeness, upon their souls. They are made partakers of
the divine nature, or moral image of God, 2 Pet. i. 4.
They are holy by being made partakers of God's holiness,
Heb. xii. 10. The saints are beautiful and blessed by a
communication of God's holiness and joy, as the moon
and planets are bright by the sun's light. The saint hath
spiritual joy and pleasure by a kind of effusion of God
on the soul. In these things the redeemed have com
munion with God ; that is, they partake with him and of
him. The saints have both their spiritual excellency and bless
edness by the gift of the Holy Ghost, and his dwelling in
them. They are not only caused by the Holy Ghost, but
are in him as their principle. The Holy Spirit becoming
an inhabitant, is a vital principle in the soul. He, acting
in, upon, and with the soul, becomes a fountain of true
holiness and joy, as a spring is of water, by the exertion
and diffusion of itself. John iv. 14. " But whosoever
drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall neyer
thirst ; but the water that I shall give him, shall be in him
a well of water springing up into everlasting life." Com
pared with chap, vii.38, 39. " He that believeth on me*
as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers
of living water ; but this spake he of the Spirit, which
they that believe on him should receive." The sum of
what Christ has purchased for us, is that spring of water
spoken of in the former of those places, and those rivers
of living water spoken of in the latter. And the sum of
the blessings, which the redeemed shall receive in heaven,
is that river of water of life that proceeds from the throne
of God and the Lamb, Rev. xxii. 1. Which doubtless
signifies the same with those rivers of living water, ex
plained, John vii. 38, 39. which is elsewhere called the
" river of God's pleasures." Herein consists the fulness
of good, which the saints receive of Christ. It is by par
taking of the Holy Spirit, that they have communion with
Christ in his fulness. God hath given the Spirit, not by
measure unto him ; and they do receive of his fulness, and
grace for grace. This is the sum of the saints' inheritance ;
and therefore that little of the Holy Ghost which believers
have in this world, is said to be the earnest of their inherit
ance, 2 Cor. i. 22. " Who hath also sealed us, and given
us the Spirit in our hearts." And chap. v. 5. " Now he
that hath wrought us for the self-same thing, is God, who
also hath given unto us the earnest of the Spirit." And
Eph. i. 13, 14. " Ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of
promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance, until the
redemption of the purchased possession."
The Holy Spirit and good things are spoken of in Scrip
ture as the same ; as if the Spirit of God communicated
to the soul, comprised all good things, Matt. vii. 11.
" How much more shall your heavenly Father give good

TWO SERMONS.

things to them that ask him ?" In Luke it is, chap. xi. 13.
" How much more shall your heavenly Father give the
Holy Spirit to them that ask him !" This is the sum of
the blessings that Christ died to procure, and the subject
of gospel-promises. Gal. iii. 13, 14. " He was made a
curse for us, that we might receive the promise of the
Spirit through faith." The Spirit of God is the great
promise of the Father, Luke xxiv. 49. " Behold, I send
the promise of my Father upon you." The Spirit of God
therefore is called "the Spirit of promise," Eph. i. 33.
This promised thing Christ received, and had given into
his hand, as soon as he had finished the work of our re
demption, to bestow on all that he had redeemed ; Acts
ii. 13. " Therefore being by the right hand of God exalted,
and having received of the Father the promise of the Holy
Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye both see and
hear." So that all the holiness and happiness of the re
deemed is in God. It is in the communications, indwell
ing, and acting of the Spirit of God. Holiness and
happiness is in the fruit, here and hereafter, because God
dwells in them, and they in God.
Thus God has given us the Redeemer, and it is by him
that our good is purchased. So God is the Redeemer and
the price ; and he also is the good purchased. So that all
that we have is of God, and through him, and in him.
Rom. xi. 36. " For of him, and through him, and to him,
or in him, are all things." The same in the Greek that is
here rendered to him, is rendered in him, 1 Cor. viii. 6.
II. God is glorified in the work of redemption by this
means, viz. By there being so great and universal a de
pendence of the redeemed on him.
1 . Man hath so much the greater occasion and obliga
tion to notice and acknowledge God's perfections and all-
sufficiency. The greater the creature's dependence is on
God's perfections, and tlie greater concern he has with
them, so much the greater occasion has he to take notice
of them. So much the greater concern any one has with
and dependence upon the power and grace of God, so
much the greater occasion has he to take notice of that
power and grace. So much the greater and more imme
diate dependence there is on tlie divine holiness, so much
the greater occasion to take notice of and acknowledge
that. So much the greater and more absolute dependence
we have on the divine perfections, as belonging to the
several persons of the Trinity, so much the greater occasion
have we to observe and own the divine glory of each of
them. That which we are most concerned with, is surely
most in the way of our observation and notice ; and this
kind of concern with any thing, viz. dependence, does
especially tend to command and oblige the attention and
observation. Those things that we are not much depend
ent upon, it is easy to neglect ; but we can scarce do any
other than mind that which we have a great dependence
on. By reason of our so great dependence on God, and
his perfections, and in so many respects, he and his glory
are the more directly set in our view, which way soever
we turn our eyes.
We have the greater occasion to take notice of God's
all-sufficiency, when all our sufficiency is thus every way
of him. We have the more occasion" to contemplate him
as an infinite good, and as the fountain of all good. Such
a dependence on God demonstrates his all-sufficiency. So
much as the dependence of the creature is on God, so
much the greater does the creature's emptiness in himself
appear ; and so much the greater the creature's emptiness,
so much the greater must tlie fulness of the Being be who
supplies him. Our having all of God, shows the fulness
of his power and grace; our' having all through him,
shows the fulness of his merit and worthiness ; and our
having all in him, demonstrates his fulness of beauty, love,
and happiness. And the redeemed, by reason ofthe great
ness of their dependence on God, have not only so much
the greater occasion, but obligation to contemplate and ac
knowledge the glory and fulness of God. How un
reasonable and ungrateful should we be, if we did not
acknowledge that sufficiency and glory which we abso
lutely, immediately, and universally depend upon !
2. Hereby is demonstrated how great God's glory is
considered comparatively, or as compared with the crea
ture's. — By the creature being thus wholly and univer

sally dependent on God, it appears that the creature is
nothing, and that God is all. Hereby it appears that God is
infinitely above us ; that God's strength, and wisdom, and
holiness, are infinitely greater than ours. However gTeat
and glorious the creature apprehends God to be, yet rf he
be not sensible of the difference between God and him, so
as to see that God's glory is great, compared with his own,
he will not be disposed to give God the glory due to his
name. If the creature in any respects sets himself upon a
level with God, or exalts himself to any competition with
him, however he may apprehend that great honour and
profound respect may belong to God from those that are at
a greater distance, he will not be so sensible of its being
due from him. So much the more men exalt themselves,
so much the less will they surely be disposed to exalt
God. It is certainly what God aims at in the disposition
of things in redemption, (if we allow the Scriptures to be
a revelation of God's mind,) that God should appear full,
and man in himself empty, that God should appear all,
and man nothing. It is God's declared design that others
should not " glory in his presence ;" which implies that it
is his design to advance his own comparative glory. So
much the more man " glories in God's presence/' so much
the less glory is ascribed to God.
3. By its being thus ordered, that the creature should
have so absolute and universal a dependence on God,
provision is made that God should have our whole souls,
and should be the object of our undivided respect. If we
had our dependence partly on God, and partly on some
thing else, man's respect would be divided to those differ
ent things on which ne had dependence. Thus it would
be if we depended on God only for a part of our good,
and on ourselves, or some other being, for another part :
or if we had our good only from God, and through another
that was not God, and in something else distinct from both,
our hearts would be divided between the good itself, and
him from whom, and him through whom, we received it.
But now there is no occasion for this, God being not only
he from or of whom we have all good, but also through
whom, and is that good itself, that we have from him and
through him. So that whatsoever there is to attract our
respect, the tendency is still directly towards God, all
unites in him as the centre.

USE.
1 . We may here observe the marvellous wisdom of God,
in the work of redemption. God hath made man's empti
ness and misery, his low, lost, and ruined state, into which
he sunk by the fall, an occasion of the greater advance
ment of his own glory, as in other ways, so particularly in
this, that there is now much more universal and apparent
dependence of man on God. Though God be pleased to
lift man out of that dismal abyss of sin and woe into
which he was fallen, and exceedingly to exalt him in ex
cellency and honour, and to a high pitch of glory and
blessedness, yet the creature hath nothing in any respect to
glory of; all the glory evidently belongs to God, all is in
a mere, and most absolute, and divine dependence on the
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. And each person of the
Trinity is equally glorified in this work : there is an
absolute dependence of the creature on every one for all :
all is of the Father, all through the Son, and all in the
Holy Ghost. Thus God appears in the work of redemp
tion as all in all. It is fit that he who is, and there is none
else, should be the Alpha and Omega, the first and the
last, the all and the only, in this work.
2. Hence those doctrines and schemes of divinity that
are in any respect opposite to such an absolute and uni
versal dependence on God, derogate from his glory, and
thwart the design of our redemption. And such are those
schemes that put the creature in God's stead, in any ofthe
mentioned respects, that exalt man into the place of either
Father, Son, or Holy Ghost, in any thing pertaining to our
redemption. However they may allow of a dependence
of the redeemed on God, yet they deny a dependence that
is so absolute and universal. They own an entire depend
ence ou God for some things, but hot for others ; they own
that we depend on God for the gift and acceptance of a

Serm. I.

GOD GLORIFIED IN MAN'S DEPENDENCE.

Redeemer, but deny so absolute a dependence on hini for
the obtaining of an interest in the Redeemer. They own
an absolute dependence on the Father for giving his Son,
and on the Son for working out redemption, but not so
entire a dependence on the Holy Ghost for conversion, and
a being in Christ, and so coming to a title to his benefits.
They own a dependence on God for means of grace, but
not absolutely for the benefit and success of those means;
a partial dependence on the power of God, for obtaining
and exercising holiness, but not a mere dependence on the
arbitrary and sovereign grace of God. They own a de
pendence on the free grace of God for a reception into his
favour, so far that it is without any proper merit, but not
as it is without being attracted, or moved with any excel
lency. They own a partial dependence on Christ, as he
through whom we have life, as having purchased new terms
of life, but still hold that the righteousness through which
we have life is inherent in ourselves, as it was under the
first covenant. Now whatever scheme is inconsistent with
our entire dependence on God for all, and of having all of
him, through him, and in him, it is repugnant to the de
sign and tenor of the gospel, and robs it of that which God
accounts its lustre and glory.
3. Hence we may learn a reason why faith is that by
which we come to have an interest in this redemption; for
tliere is included in the nature of faith, a sensible acknow
ledgment of absolute dependence on God in this affair. It
is very fit that it should be required of all, in order to their
having the benefit of this redemption, that they should be
sensible of, and acknowledge, their dependence on God for
it. It is by this means that God hath contrived to glorify
himself in redemption ; and it is fit that he should at least
have this glory of those that are the subjects of this re
demption, and have the benefit of it.— Faith is a sensible
ness of what is real in the work of redemption ; and the
soul that believes doth entirely depend on God for all salva
tion, in its own sense and act. Faith abases men, and ex
alts God; it gives all the glory of redemption to him

alone. It is necessary in order to saving faith, that man
should be emptied of himself, be sensible that he is
" wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and
naked." Humility is a great ingredient of true faith : he
that truly receives redemption, receives it as a little child,
Mark x. 15. " Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of
heaven as a little child, he' shall not enter therein." It is
the delight of a believing soul to abase itself and exalt
God alone : that is the language of it, Psalm cxv. 1 .
" Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but to thy name give
glory." 4. Let us be exhorted to exalt God alone, and ascribe
to him all the glory of redemption. Let us endeavour to
obtain, and increase in, a sensibleness of our great deJ
pendence on God, to have our eye to him alone, lo mortify
a self-dependent and self-righteous disposition. Man is
naturally exceeding prone to exalt himself, and depend on
his own power or goodness ; as though from himself he
must expect happiness. He is prone to have respect lo
enjoyments aliene from God and his Spirit, as those in
which happiness is to be found. — But this doctrine should
teach us to exalt God alone ; as by trust and reliance, so
by praise. Let him that glorieth, glory in the Lord. Hath
any man hope that he is converted, and sanctified, and that
his mind is endowed with true excellency and spiritual
beauty ? that his sins are forgiven, and he received into
God's favour, and exalted to the honour and blessedness
of being his child, and an heir of eternal life ? let him
give God all the glory ; who alone makes him to differ
from the worst of men in this world, or the most miserable
of the damned in hell. Hath any man much comfort and
strong hope of eternal life, let not his hope lift him up, but
dispose him the more to abase himself, to reflect on his
own exceeding unworthiness of such a favour, and to
exalt God alone. Is any man eminent iu holiness, and
abundant in good works, let him take nothing of the glory
of it to himself, but ascribe it to him whose " workman
ship we are, created in Christ Jesus unto good works."

SERMON II.*
SINNERS IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD.

Deut. xxxii. 35.
 Their foot shall slide in due time. 
In this verse is threatened the vengeance of God on the
wicked unbelieving Israelites, who were God's visible
people, and who lived under the means of grace ; but
who, notwithstanding all God's wonderful works towards
them, remained (as ver. 28.) void of counsel, having no
understanding in them. Under all the cultivations of
Heaven, they brought forth bitter and poisonous fruit ; as
in the two verses next preceding the text. — The expression
I have chosen for my text, Their foot shall slide in due
time, seems to imply the following things, relating to the
punishment and destruction to which these wicked Israel
ites were exposed.
' 1. That they were always exposed to destruction; as one
that stands or walks in slippery places is always exposed to
fall. This is implied in the manner of their destruction
coming upon them, being represented by their foot sliding.
The same is expressed, Psalm lxxiii. 18. " Surely thou
didst set them in slippery places ; thou castedst them down
into destruction."
2. It implies, that they were always exposed to sudden un
expected destruction. As he that walks in slippery places is
every moment liable to fall, he cannot foresee one moment
whether he shall stand or fall the next ; and when he does
fall, he falls at once without warning : which is also ex
pressed in Psalm lxxiii. 18, 19. " Surely thou didst set
« Preached at Enfield, July 8lh, 1741 , at a time of great awakenings ;

them in slippery places ; thou castedst them down into
destruction : how are they brought into desolation as in a
moment?" 3. Another thing implied is, that they are liable to fall
qf themselves, without being thrown down by the hand of
another ; as he that stands or walks on slippery ground
needs nothing but his own weight to throw him down.
4. That the reason why they are not fallen already, and
do not fall now, is only that God's appointed time is not
come. For it is said that when that due time, or appoint
ed time, comes, their foot shall slide. Then they shall be
left to fall, as they are inclined by their own weight. God
will not hold them up in these slippery places any longer,
but will let them go ; and then, at that very instant, tney
shall fall into destruction ; as he that stands in such slip
pery declining ground, on the edge of a pit, he cannot
stand alone, when he is let go he immediately falls and is lost.
The observation from the words that I would now insist
upon is this. — " There is nothing that keeps wicked men
at any one moment out of hell, but the mere pleasure of
God." — By the mere pleasure of God, I mean his sove
reign pleasure, his arbitrary will, restrained by no obliga
tion, hindered by no manner of difficulty, any more than
if nothing else but God's mere will had in the least de
gree, or in any respect whatsoever, any hand in the
preservation of wicked men one moment. — The truth of
this observation may appear by the following considerations.
1 . There is no want of power in God to cast wicked
men into hell at any moment. Men's hands cannot be
and attended with remarkable impressions on many of the hearers.

TWO SERMONS.

strong when God rises up : the strongest have no power
to resist him, nor can any deliver out of his hands.— He
is not only able to cast wicked men into hell, but he can
most easily do it. Sometimes an earthly prince meets
with a great deal of difficulty to subdue a rebel, who has
found means to fortify himself, and has made himself
strong by the numbers of his followers. But it is not so
with God. There is no fortress that is any defence from
the power of God. Though hand join in hand, and vast
multitudes of God's enemies combine and associate them
selves, they are easily broken in pieces. They are as great
heaps of light chaff before the whirlwind ; or large quan
tities of dry stubble before devouring flames. We find it
easy to tread on and crush a worm that we see crawling
on the earth ; so it is easy for us to cut or singe a slender
thread that any thing hangs by : thus easy is it for God,
when he pleases, to cast his enemies down to hell. What
are we, that we should think to stand before him, at whose
rebuke the earth trembles, and before whom the rocks are
thrown down ?
2. They deserve to be cast into hell; so that divine
justice never stands in the way, it makes no objection
against God's using his power at any moment to destroy
them. Yea, on the contrary, justice calls aloud for an in
finite punishment of their sins. Divine justice says of the
tree that brings forth such grapes of Sodom, " Cut it
down, why cumbereth it the ground ?" Luke xiii. 7. The
sword of divine justice is every moment brandished over
their heads, and it is nothing but the hand of arbitrary
mercy, and God's mere will, that holds it back.
3. They are already under a sentence of condemnation
to hell. They do not only justly deserve to be cast down
thither, but the sentence ot the law of God, that eternal
and immutable rule of righteousness that God has fixed
between him and mankind, is gone out against them, and
stands against them ; so that they are bound over already
to hell. John iii. 18. " He that believeth not is condemn
ed already." So that every unconverted man properly
belongs to hell : that is his place ; from thence he is,
John viii. 23. " Ye are from beneath," and thither he is
bound ; it is the place that justice, and God's word, and
the sentence of his unchangeable law, assign to him.
4. They are now the objects of that very same anger
and wrath of God, that is expressed in the torments of
hell. And the reason why they do not go down to hell at
each moment, is not because God, in whose power they
are, is not then very angry with them ; as he is with many
miserable creatures now tormented in hell, and there feel
and bear the fierceness of his wrath. Yea, God is a great
deal more angry with great numbers that are now on
earth ; yea, doubtless with many that are now in this
congregation, who it may be are at ease, than he is with
many of those who are now in the flames of hell. — So
that it is not because God is unmindful of their wicked
ness, and does not resent it, that he does not let loose his
hand and cut them off. God is not altogether such a one
as themselves, though they imagine him to be so. The wrath
of God burns against them, their damnation does not
slumber ; the pit is prepared, the fire is made ready, the
furnace is now hot, ready to receive them ; the flames do
now rage and glow. The glittering sword is whet, and
held over them, and the pit hath opened its mouth under
them. 5. The devil stands ready to fall upon them, and seize
them as his own, at what moment God shall permit him.
They belong to him ; he has their souls in his possession,
and under his dominion. The Scripture represents them
as his goods, Luke xi. 12. The devils watcn them ; they
are ever by them, at their right hand ; they stand waiting
for them, like greedy hungry lions that see their prey, and
expect to have it, but are for the present kept back. If
God should withdraw his hand, by which they are re
strained, they would in one moment fly upon their poor
souls. The old serpent is gaping for them; hell opens its
mouth wide to receive them ; and if God should permit it,
they would be hastily swallowed up and lost.
6. There are in the souls of wicked men those hellish
principles reigning, that would presently kindle and flame
out into hell-fire, if it were not for God s restraints. There
is laid in the very nature of carnal men, a foundation for

the torments of hell. There are those corrupt principles,
in reigning power in them, and in full possession of them,
that are seeds of hell-fi_e„ These principles are active
and powerful, exceeding violent in their nature, and if it
were not for the restraining hand of God upon them, they
would soon break out, tney would flame out after the
same manner as the same corruptions, the same enmity,
does in the hearts of damned souls, and would beget the
same torments as they do in them. The souls of the
wicked are in Scripture compared to the troubled sea,
Isaiah lvii. 20. For the present, God restrains their
wickedness by his mighty power, as he does the raging
waves of the "troubled sea, saying, " Hitherto shalt thou
come, and no further ;" but if God should withdraw that
restraining power, it would soon carry all before it. Sin
is the ruin and misery of the soul ; it is destructive in
its nature ; and if God should leave it without restraint,
there would need nothing else to make the soul perfectly
miserable. The corruption of the heart of man is im
moderate and boundless in its fury ; and while wicked
men live here, it is like fire pent up by God's restraints,
whereas if it were let loose, it would set on fire the course
of nature ; and as the heart is now a sink of sin, so, if
sin was not restrained, it would immediately turn
the soul into a fiery oven, or a furnace of fire and brim
stone. 7. It is no security to wicked men for one moment, that
there are no visible means of death at hand. It is no se
curity to a natural man, that he is now in health, and that
he does not see which way he should now immediately go
out of the world by any accident, and that there is no visi
ble danger in any respect in his circumstances. The mani
fold and continual experience of the world in all ages,
shows this is no evidence, that a man is not on the very bnnk
of eternity, and that the next step will not be into another
world. The unseen, unthought of ways and means of
persons going suddenly out of the world are innumerable
and inconceivable. Unconverted men walk over the pit
of hell on a rotten covering, and there are innumerable
places in this covering so weak that they will not bear
their weight, and these, places are not seen. The arrows
of death fly unseen at noon-day ; the sharpest sight can
not discern them. God has so many different unsearch
able ways of taking wicked men out of the world and
sending them to hell, that there is nothing to make it ap
pear, that God had need to be at the expense of a miracle,
or go out of the ordinary course of his providence, to de
stroy any wicked man, at any moment. All the means
that there are of sinners going out of the world, are so in
God's hands, and so universally and absolutely subject to
his power and determination, that it does not depend at
all the less on the mere will of God, whether sinners
shall at any moment go to hell, than if means were never
made use of, or at all concerned in the case.
8. Natural men's prudence and care to preserve their
own lives, or the care of others to preserve them, do not
secure them a moment. To this, divine providence and
universal experience does also bear testimony. There is
this clear evidence that mens' own wisdom is no security
to them from death ; that if it were otherwise we should
see some difference between the wise and politic men of
the world, and others, with regard to their liableness to
early and unexpected death : but how is it in fact ? Eccl.
ii. 16. " How dieth the wise man 1 even as the fool."
9. All wicked men's pains and contrivance which they
use to escape hell, while they continue to reject Christ,
and so remain wicked men, do not secure them from hell
one moment. Almost every natural man that hears of
hell, flatters himself that he shall escape it; he depends
upon himself for his own security ; he flatters himself in
what he has done, in what he is now doing, or what he
intends to do. Every one lays out matters in his own
mind how he shall avoid damnation, and flatters himself
that he contrives well for himself, and that his schemes
will not fail. They hear indeed that there are but few
saved, and that the greater part of men that have died
heretofore are gone to hell ; but each one imagines that he
lays out matters better for his own escape than others have
done. He does not intend to come to that place of tor
ment ; he says within himself, that he intends to take

Serm. II.

SINNERS IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD.

effectual care, and to order matters so for himself as not
to fail.
But the foolish children of men miserably delude them
selves in their own schemes, and in confidence in their
own strength and wisdom; they trust to nothing but a
shadow. The greater part of those who heretofore have
lived under the same means of grace, and are now dead,
are undoubtedly gone to hell ; and it was not because
they were not as wise as those who are now alive ; it was
not because they did not lay out matters as well for them
selves to secure their own escape. If we could speak
with them, and inquire of them, one by one, whether they
expected, when alive, and when they used to hear about
hell, ever to be the subjects of that misery, we, doubtless,
should hear one and another reply, " No, I never intended
to come here : I had laid out matters otherwise in my
mind; I thought I should contrive well for myself: I
thought my scheme good. I intended to take effectual
care ; but it came upon me unexpected : I did not look
for it at that time, and in that manner ; it came as a thief :
Death outwitted me : God's wrath was too quick for me.
O my cursed foolishness ! I was flattering myself, and
pleasing myself with vain dreams of what I would do
hereafter ; and when I was saying, Peace and safety, then
sudden destruction came upon me."
1 0. God has laid himself under no obligation, by any
promise, to keep any natural man out of hell one moment.
God certainly has made no promises either of eternal life,
or of any deliverance or preservation from eternal death,
but what are contained in the covenant of grace, the
promises that are given in Christ, in whom all the promises
are yea and amen. But surely they have no interest in
the promises of the covenant of grace who are not the
children of the covenant, who do not believe in any of
the promises, and have no interest in the Mediator of the
covenant. So that, whatever some have imagined and pretended
about promises made to natural men's earnest seeking and
knocking, it is plain and manifest, that whatever pains a
natural man takes in religion, whatever prayers he makes,
till he believes in Christ, God is under no manner of ob
ligation to keep him a moment from eternal destruction.
So that thus it is that natural men are held in the hand
of God over the pit of hell ; they have deserved the fiery
pit, and are already sentenced to it ; and God is dreadfully
provoked, his anger is as great towards them as to those
that are actually suffering the executions of the fierceness
of his wrath in hell, and they have done nothing in the
least to appease or abate that anger, neither is God in the
least bound by any promise to hold them up one moment :
the devil is waiting for them, hell is gaping for them, the
flames gather and flash about them, and would fain lay
hold on them, and swallow them up ; the fire pent up in
their own hearts is struggling to break out ; and they have
no interest in any Mediator, there are no means within
reach that can be any security to them. In short, they
have no refuge, nothing to take hold of ; all that preserves
them every moment is the mere arbitrary will, and un-
covenanted, unobliged forbearance, of an incensed God.

APPLICATION.
The use of this awful subject may be for awakening
unconverted persons in this congregation. This that you
have heard is the case of every one of you that are out of
Christ. — That world of misery, that lake of burning brim
stone, is extended abroad under you. There is the dreadful
it of the glowing flames of the wrath of God ; there is
ell's wide gaping mouth open ; and you have nothing to
stand upon, nor any thing to take hold of ; there is nothing
between you and hell but the air ; it is only the power
and mere pleasure of God that holds you up.
You probably are not sensible of this ; you find you
are kept out of hell, but do not see the hand of God in
it ; but look at other things, as the good state of your
bodily constitution, your care of your own life, and the
means you use for your own preservation. But indeed
these things are nothing; if God should withdraw his
hand, they would avail no more to keep you from falling,

£

than the thin air to hold up a person that is suspended
in it.
Your wickedness makes you as it were heavy as lead,
and to tend downwards with great weight and pressure
towards hell ; and if God should let you go, you would
immediately sink and swiftly descend and plunge into the
bottomless gulf; and your healthy constitution, and your
own care and prudence, and best contrivance, and all your
righteousness, would have no more influence to uphold
you and keep you out of hell, than a spider's web would
have to stop a falling rock. Were it not for the sovereign
pleasure of Gtfd, the earth would not bear you one
moment ; for you are a burden to it : the creation groans
with you ; the creature is made subject to the bondage of
your corruption, not willingly ; the sun does not willingly
shine upon you to give you light to serve sin and Satan ;
the earth does not willingly yield her increase to satisfy
your lusts ; nor is it willingly a stage for your wickedness
to be acted upon ; the air does not willingly serve you for
breath to maintain the flame of life in your vitals, while
you spend your life in the service of God's enemies.
God's creatures are good, and were made for men to serve
God with, and do not willingly subserve to any other
purpose, and groan when they are abused to purposes so
directly contrary to their nature and end. And the world
would spew you out, were it not for the sovereign hand of
him who hath subjected it in hope. There are the black
clouds of God's wrath now hanging directly over your
heads, full of the dreadful storm, and big with thunder ;
and were it not for the restraining hand of God, it would
immediately burst forth upon you. The sovereign pleasure
of God, for the present, stays his rough wind ; otherwise
it would come with fury, and your destruction would come
like a whirlwind, and you would be like the chaff of the
summer threshing-floor.
The wrath of God is like great waters that are dammed
for the present ; they increase more and more, and rise
higher and higher, till an outlet is given ; and the longer
the stream is stopped, the more rapid and mighty is its
course, when once it is let loose. It is true, that judgment
against your evil works has not been executed hitherto ;
the floods of God's vengeance have been withheld ; "but
your guilt in the mean time is constantly increasing, and
you are every day treasuring up more wrath ; the waters
are constantly rising, and waxing more and more mighty ;
and there is nothing but the mere pleasure of God, that
holds the waters back, that are unwilling to be stopped,
and press hard to go forward. If God should only with
draw his hand from the flood-gate, it would immediately
fly open, and the fiery floods of the fierceness and wrath of
God would rush forth with inconceivable fury, and would
come upon you with omnipotentpower; and if your strength
were ten thousand times greater than it is, yea, ten thou
sand times greater than the strength of the stoutest, stur
diest devil in hell, it would be nothing to withstand or
endure it.
The bow of God's wrath is bent, and the arrow made
ready on the string, and justice bends the arrow at your
heart, and strains the bow, and it is nothing but the mere
pleasure of God, and that of an angry God, without any pro
mise or obligation at all, that keeps the arrow one moment
from being made drunk with your blood. Thus all you
that, never passed under a great change of heart, by the
mighty power of the Spiritof God upon your souls ; all you
that were never born again, and made new creatures, "and
raised from being dead in sin, to a state of new, and before
altogether unexperienced, light and life, are in the hands
of an angry God. However you may have reformed your
life in many things, and may have had religious affections,
and may keep up a form of religion in your families and
closets, and [m the house of God, it is nothing but his
mere pleasure that keeps you from being this moment
swallowed up in everlasting destruction. However un
convinced you may now be of the truth of what you hear,
by and by you will be fully convinced of it. Those that
are gone from being in the like circumstances with you,
see that it was so with them ; for destruction came sud
denly upon most of them ; when they expected nothing of
it, and while they were saying, Peace and safety : now
they see, that those things on which they depended for

10

TWO SERMONS.

peace and safety, were nothing but thin air and empty
shadows. The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as
one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect, over the fire,
abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked : his wrath to
wards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy
of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire ; he is of purer
eyes than to bear to have you in his sight ; you are ten
thousand times more abominable in his eyes, than the most
hateful venomous serpent is in ours. You have offended
him infinitely more than ever a stubborn rebel did his
prince : and yet, it is nothing but his hand that holds you
from falling into the fire every moment. It is to be
ascribed to nothing else, that you did not go to hell the last
night ; that you was suffered to awake again in this world,
after you closed your eyes to sleep. And there is no other
reason to be given, why you have not dropped into hell
since you arose in the morning, but that God's hand has
held you up. There is no other reason to be given why
you have not gone to hell, since you have sat here in the
house of God, provoking his pure eyes by your sinful
wicked manner of attending his solemn worship. Yea,
there is nothing else that is to be given as a reason why
you do not this very moment drop down into hell.
O sinner ! consider the fearful danger you are in : it is
a great furnace of wrath, a wide and bottomless pit, full of
the fire of wrath, that you are held over in the hand of that
God, whose wrath is provoked and incensed as much
against you, as against many of the damned in hell. You
hang by. a slender thread, with the flames of divine wrath
flashing about it, and ready every moment to singe it, and
burn it asunder; and you have no interest in any Media
tor, and nothing to lay hold of to save yourself, nothing
to keep off the flames of wrath, nothing of your own, nothing
that you ever have done, nothing that you can do, to in
duce God to spare you one moment. — And consider here
more particularly,
1 . Whose wrath it is : it is the wrath of the infinite
God. If it were only the wrath of man, though it were of
the most potent prince, it would be comparatively little to
be regarded. The wrath of kings is very much dreaded,
especially of absolute monarchs, who have the possessions
and lives of their subjects wholly in their power, to be
disposed of at their mere will. Prov. xx. 2. " The fear
of a king is as the roaring of a lion : whoso provoketh him
to anger, sinneth against his own soul." The subject that
very much enrages an arbitrary prince, is liable to suffer
the most extreme torments that human art can invent, or
human power can inflict. But the greatest earthly poten
tates, in their greatest majesty and strength, and when
clothed in their greatest terrors, are but feeble, despicable
worms ofthe dust, in comparison ofthe great and almighty
Creator and Ring of heaven and earth. It is but little
that they can do, when most enraged, and when they have
exerted the utmost of their fury. All the kings of the earth,
before God, are as grasshoppers ; they are nothing, and less
than nothing ; both their love and their hatred is to be
despised. The wrath of the great King of kings, is as
much more terrible' than theirs, as his majesty is greater.
Luke xii. 4, 5. " And I say unto you, my friends, Be not
afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no
more that they can do. But I will forewarn you whom
ye shall fear : Fear him, which after he hath killed, hath
power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, Fear him."
2. It is the fierceness of his wrath that you are exposed
to. We often read of the fury of God ; as in Isa. lix. 18.
"According to their deeds, accordingly he will repay fury
to his adversaries." So Isa. lxvi. 15. " For behold, the
Lord will come with fire, and with his chariots like a
whirlwind, to render his anger with fury, and his rebuke
with flames of fire." And in many other places. So, Rev.
xix. 15. we read of " the wine-press of the fierceness and
wrath of Almighty God." The words are exceeding ter
rible. If it had only been said, " the wrath of God," the
words would have implied that which is infinitely dread
ful : but it is " the fierceness and wrath of God." The
fury of God ! the fierceness of Jehovah ! O how dreadful
must that be ! Who can utter or conceive what such ex
pressions carry in them ' But it is also " the fierceness and
wrath of Almighty God." As though there would be a

very great manifestation of his almighty power in what the
fierceness of his wrath should inflict; as though omnipo
tence should be as it were enraged, and exerted, as men
are wont to exert their strength in the fierceness of their
wrath. Oh! then, what will be the consequence ! What
will become ofthe poor worm that shall suffer it ! Whose
hands can be strong 1 and whose heart can endure ? To
what a dreadful, inexpressible, inconceivable depth of
misery must the poor creature be sunk who shall be the
subject of this !
Consider this, you that are here present, that yet remain
in an unregenerate state. That God will execute the
fierceness of his anger, implies, that he will inflict wrath
without any pity. When God beholds the ineffable ex
tremity of your case, and sees your torment to be so vastly
disproportioned to your strength, and sees how your poor
soul is crushed, and sinks down, as it were, into an in
finite gloom ; he will have no compassion upon you, he
will not forbear the executions of his wrath, or in the least
lighten his hand ; there shall be no moderation or mercy,
nor will God then at all stay his rough wind ; he will have
no regard to your welfare, nor be at all careful lest you
should suffer too much in any other sense, than only that
you shall not suffer beyond what strict justice requires.
Nothing shall be withheld, because it is so hard for you
to bear. Ezek. viii. 18. " Therefore will I also deal in
fury ; mine eye shall not spare, neither will I have pity ;
and though they cry in mine ears with a loud voice, yet I
will not hear them." Now God stands ready to pity you ;
this is a day of mercy ; you may cry now with some en
couragement of obtaining mercy. But when once the day
of mercy is past, your most lamentable and dolorous cries
and shrieks will be in vain ; you will be wholly lost and
thrown away of God, as to any regard to your welfare.
God will have no other use to put you to, but to suffer
misery ; you shall be continued in being to no other end ;
for you will be a vessel of wrath fitted to destruction ; and
there will be no other use of this vessel, but to be filled
full of wrath. God will be so far from pitying you when
you cry to him, that it is said he will only " laugh and
mock," Prov. i. 25, 26, &c.
How awful are those words, Isa. lxiii. 3. which are the
words of the great God, " I will tread them in mine anger,
and will trample them in my fury, and their blood shall
be sprinkled upon my garments, and I will stain all my
raiment." It is perhaps impossible to conceive of words
that carry in them greater manifestations of these three
things, viz. contempt, and hatred, and fierceness of indig
nation. If you cry to God to pity you, he will be so far
from pitying you in your doleful case, or showing you the
least regard or favour, that, instead of that, he will only
tread you under foot. And though he will know that you
cannot bear the weight of omnipotence treading upon you,
yet he will not regard that, but he will crush you under his
feet without mercy ; he will crush out your blood,and make
it fly, and it shall be sprinkled on his garments, so as to stain
all his raiment. He will not only hate you, but he will
have you in the utmost contempt; no place shall be
thought fit for you, but under his feet, to be trodden down
as the mire of the streets.
3. The misery you are exposed to is that which God
will inflict to that end, that he might show what that
wrath of Jehovah is. God hath had it on his heart to
show to angels and men, both how excellent his love is,
and also how terrible his wrath is. Sometimes earthly-
kings have a mind to show how terrible their wrath is, by
the extreme punishments they would execute on those that
would provoke them. Nebuchadnezzar, that mighty and
haughty monarch of the Chaldean empire, was willing to
show his wrath when enraged with Shadrach, Meshech, and
Abednego ; and accordingly gave order that the burning
fiery furnace should be heated seven times hotter than it
was before : doubtless, it was raised to the utmost degree
of fierceness that human art could raise it. But the great
God is also willing to show his wrath, and magnify his
awful majesty and mighty power, in the extreme suffer
ings of his enemies. Rom.ix. 22. "What if God, willing
to show his wrath, and to make his power known, endured
with much long-suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to
destruction?" And seeing this is his design, and what

Serm. II.

SINNERS IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD.

11

he has determined, even to show how terrible the unre
strained wrath, the fury and fierceness, of Jehovah is, he
will do it to effect. There will be something accomplish
ed and brought to pass that will be dreadful with a witness.
When thegreat ana angry God hath risen up and executed
his awful vengeance on the poor sinner, and the wretch
is actually suffering the infinite weight and power of his
indignation, then will God call upon the whole universe
to behold that awful majesty and mighty power that is to
be seen in it. Isaiah xxxiii. 12 — 14. " And the people
shall be as the burnings of lime, as thorns cut tip shall
they be burnt in the fire. Hear, ye that are afar off, what
I have done ; and ye that are near, acknowledge my
might. The sinners in Zion are afraid ; tearfulness hath
surprised the hypocrites," &c.
Thus it will be with you that are in an unconverted
state, if you continue in it ; the infinite might, and majesty,
and terribleness of the omnipotent God shall be magnified
upon you, in the ineffable strength of your torments. You
shall be tormented in the presence of the holy angels, and
in the presence of the Lamb ; and when you shall be in
this state of suffering, the glorious inhabitants of heaven
shall go forth and look on the awful spectacle, that they
may see what the wrath and fierceness of the Almighty
is ; and when they have seen it, they will fall down and
adore that great power and majesty. Isaiah lxvi. 23, 24.
" And it shall come to pass, that from one new moon to
another, and from one sabbath to another, shall all flesh
come to worship before me, saith the Lord. And they
shall go forth and look upon the carcasses of the men that
have transgressed against me ; for their worm shall not
die, neither shall their fire be quenched, and they shall be
an abhorring unto all flesh."
4. It is evcrlast ing wrath. It would be dreadful to suf
fer this fierceness and wrath of Almighty God one
moment; but you must suffer it to all eternity. There
will be no end to this exquisite horrible misery. When
you look forward, you shall see a long forever, a boundless
duration before you, which will swallow up your thoughts,
and amaze your soul ; and you will absolutely despair of
ever having any deliverance, any end, any mitigation, any
rest at all. You will know certainly that you must wear
out long ages, millions of millions of ages, in wrestling
and conflicting with this almighty merciless vengeance ;
and then when you have so done, "when so many ages have
actually been spent by you in this manner, you will know
that all is but a point to what remains. So that your
punishment will indeed be infinite. Oh who can express
what the state of a soul in such circumstances is ! All
that we can possibly say about it, gives but a very feeble,
faint representation of it ; it is inexpressible and incon
ceivable : for " who knows the power of God's anger ?"
How dreadful is the state of those that are daily and
hourly in danger of this great wrath and infinite misery !
But this is the dismal case of every soul in this congrega
tion that has not been born again, however moral and
strict, sober and religious, they may otherwise be. Oh
that you would consider it, whether you be young or old !
There is reason to think, that there are many in this con
gregation now hearing this discourse, that will actually be
the subjects of this very misery to all eternity. We know
not who they are, or in what seats they sit, or what
thoughts they now have. It may be they are now at ease,
and hear all these things without much disturbance, and
are now flattering themselves that they are not the persons,
promising themselves that they shall escape. If we knew
that there was one person, and but one, in the whole con
gregation, that was to be the subject of this misery, what
an awful thing would it be to think of ! If we knew who
it was, what an awful sight would it be to see such a
person ! How might all the rest of the congregation lift
up a lamentable and bitter cry over him ! But, alas !
instead of one, how many is it likely will remember this
discourse in hell ! And" it would be a wonder, if some
that are now present should not be in hell in a very short
time, even before this year is out. And it would be no
wonder if some persons, that now sit here, in some seats of
this meeting-house, in healdt, quiet and secure, should be
* A town in the neighbourhood.

there before to-morrow morning. Those of you that finally
continue in a natural condition, that shall keep out of hell
longest, will be there in a little time! your damnation
does not slumber ; it will come swiftly, and, in all proba
bility, very suddenly, upon many of vou. You have
reason to wonder that you are not already in hell. It is
doubtless the case of some whom you have seen and known,
that never deserved hell more than you, and that heretofore
appeared as likely to have been now alive as you. Their
case is past all hope ; they are crying in extreme misery
and perfect despair ; but here you are in the land of the
living, and in the house of God, and have an opportunity
to obtain salvation. What would not those poor damned,
hopeless souls give for one day's opportunity such as you
now enjoy !
And now you have an extraordinary opportunity, a day
wherein Christ has thrown the door of mercy wide open,
and stands in calling, and crying with a loud voice to
poor sinners ; . a day wherein many are flocking to him,
and pressing into the kingdom of God. Many are
daily coming from the east, west, north, and south ; many
that were very lately in the same miserable condition that
you are in, are now in a happy state, with their hearts fill
ed with love to him who has loved them, and washed
them from their sins in his own blood, and rejoicing in
hope ofthe glory of God. How awful it is to be left be
hind at such a day ! To see so many others feasting,
while you are pining and perishing ! To see so many re
joicing and singing for joy of heart, while you have cause
to mourn for sorrow of heart, and howl for vexation of
spirit ! How can you rest one moment in such a condi
tion ? Are not your souls as precious as the souls of the
people at Suffield, * where they are flocking from day to
day to Christ ?
Are there not many here who have lived long in the
world, and are not to this day bom again ? and so are
aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and have done
nothing ever since they have lived, but treasure up wrath
against the day of wrath? Oh, Sirs, your case, in an
especial manner, is extremely dangerous. Your guilt and
hardness of heart is extremely great. Do not you see
how generally persons of your years are passed over and
left, in the present remarkable and wonderful dispensation
of God's mercy ? You had need to consider yourselves,
and awake thoroughly out of sleep. You cannot bear the
fierceness and wrath ofthe infinite God. — And you, young
men and young women, will you neglect this precious
season which you now enjoy, when so many others of
your age are renouncing all youthful vanities, and flock
ing to Christ ? You especially have now an extraordinary
opportunity ; but if you neglect it, it will soon be with
you as with those persons who spent all the precious days
of youth in sin, and are now come to such a dreadful pass
in blindness and hardness. — And you, children, who are
unconverted, do not you know that you are going down to
hell, to bear the dreadful wrath of that God, who is now
angry with you every day and every night ? Will you be
content to be the children of the devil, when so many
other children in the land are converted, and are become
the holy and happy children of the King of kings ?
And let every one that is yet out of Christ, and hanging
over the pit of hell, whether they be old men and women,
or middle aged, or young people, or little children, now
hearken to the loud calls of God's word and providence.
This acceptable year of the Lord, a day of such great favour
to some, will doubtless be a day of as remarkable vengeance
to others. Men's hearts harden, and their guilt increases
apace, at such a day as this, if they neglect their souls ; and
never was there so great danger of such persons being given
up to hardness of heart and blindness of mind. God
seems now to be hastily gathering in his elect in all parts
of the land ; and probably the greater part of adult persons
that ever shall be saved, will be brought in now in a little
time, and that it will be as it was on the great out-pouring
of the Spirit upon the Jews in the apostles' days, the elec
tion will obtain, and the rest will be blinded. If this
should be the case with you, you will eternally curse this
day, and will curse the day that ever you was born, to see

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

12
such a season of the pouring out of God's Spirit, and will
wish that you had died and gone to hell before you had
seen it. Now undoubtedly it is, as it was in the days of
John the Baptist, the axe is in an extraordinary manner
laid at the root of the trees, that every tree which brings
not forth good fruit, may be hewn down, and cast into the
fire.

Therefore, let every one that is out of Christ, now awake
and fly from the wrath to come. The wrath of Almighty
God is now undoubtedly hanging over a great part of this
congregation. Let every one fly out of Sodom : " Haste
and escape for your lives, look not behind you, escape to
the mountain, lest you be consumed."

FIVE SERMONS

DIFFERENT OCCASIONS,

SEPARATELY PUBLISHED IN MR. EDWARDS'S LIFE-TIME.

SERMON I.*
A DIVINE AND SUPERNATURAL LIGHT, IMMEDIATELY IMPARTED TO THE SOUL BY THE SPIRIT OF GOD, SHOWN TO BE
BOTH A SCRIPTURAL AND RATIONAL DOCTRINE.

Matt. xvi. 17.
And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou,
Simon Bar-jona : for flesh and blood hath not revealed
it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven.
Christ addresses these words to Peter upon occasion
of his professing his faith in him as the Son of God. Our
Lord was inquiring of his disciples, whom men said that
he was ; not that he needed to be informed, but only to in
troduce and give occasion to what follows. They answer,
that some said he was John the Baptist, and some Elias,
and others Jeremias, or one of the prophets. When they
had thus given an account whom others said that he was,
Christ asks them, whom they said that he was ? Simon
Peter, whom we find always zealous and forward, was the
first to answer : he readily replied to the question, Thou
art Christ, the Son of the living God.
Upon this occasion, Christ says as he does to him and
of him in the text : in which we may observe,
1. That Peter is pronounced blessed on this account. —
Blessed art thou — " Thou art a happy man, that thou art
not ignorant of this, that I am Christ, the Son ofthe living
God. Thou art distinguishingly happy . Others are blinded,
and have dark and deluded apprehensions, as you have
now given an account, some thinking that 1 am Elias, and
some that I am Jeremias, and some one thing, and some
another; but none of them thinking right, all of them
misled. Happy art thou, that art so distinguished as to
know the truth in this matter."
2. The evidence of this his happiness declared; viz.
That God, and he only, had revealed it to him. This is an
evidence of his being blessed,
First, As it ^hows how peculiarly favoured he was of
God above others : q. d. " How highly favoured art thou,
that others, wise and great men, the scribes, Pharisees, and
Rulers, and the nation in general, are left in darkness, to
follow their own misguided apprehensions ; and that thou
shouldst be singled out, as it were, by name, that my
heavenly Father should thus set his love on thee, Simon
Bar-jona. — This argues thee blessed, that thou shouldst thus
be the object of God's distinguishing love."
• Preached at Northampton, and published at the desire of 6ome of the

Secondly, It evidences his blessedness also, as it inti
mates that this knowledge is above any that flesh and blood
can reveal. " This is such knowledge as only my Father
which is in heaven can give : it is too high and excellent to
be communicated by such means as other knowledge is.
Thou art blessed, that thou knowest what God alone can
teach thee."
The original of this knowledge is here declared, both
negatively and positively. Positively, as God is here de
clared the author of it. Negatively, as it is declared, that
flesh and blood had not revealed it. God is the author of
all knowledge and understanding whatsoever. He is the
author of all moral prudence, and of the skill that men
have in their secular business. Thus it is said of all in
Israel that were wise-hearted, and skilled in embroidering,
that God had filled them with the spirit qf wisdom. Exod.
xxviii. 3.
God is the author of such knowledge ; yet so that flesh
and blood reveals it. Mortal men are capable of impart
ing the knowledge of human arts and sciences, and skill
in temporal affairs. God is the author of such knowledge
by those means : flesh and blood is employed as the
mediate or second cause of it : he conveys it by the power
and influence of natural means. But this spiritual know
ledge spoken of in the text, is what God is the author of,
and none else : he reveals it, and flesh and blood reveals it
not. He imparts this knowledge immediately, not making
use of any intermediate natural causes, as he does in other
knowledge. What had passed in the preceding discourse naturally
occasioned Christ to observe this ; because the disciples
had been telling how others did not know him, but were
generally mistaken about him, divided and confounded in
their opinions of him : but Peter had declared his assured
faith, that he was the Son of God. Now it was natural to
observe, how it was not flesh and blood that had revealed
it to him, but God ; for if this knowledge were dependent
on natural causes or means, how came it to pass that they,
a company of poor fishermen, illiterate men, and persons
of low education, attained to the knowledge of the truth ;
while the scribes and Pharisees, men of vastly higher
advantages, and greater knowledge and sagacity 'in other,
hearers, in the year 1734.

Serm. I.

THE REALITY OF SPIRITUAL LIGHT.

13

matters, remained in ignorance ? This could be owing only
to the gracious distinguishing influence and revelation of
the Spirit of God. Hence, what I would make the sub
ject of my present discourse from these words, is this
DOCTRINE,
, That there is such a thing as a spiritual and divine
light, immediately imparted to the soul Dy God, of a
different nature from any that is obtained by natural
means. — And on this subject I would,
I. Show what this divine light is.
II. How it is given immediately by God, and not ob
tained by natural means.
III. Show the truth of the doctrine.
And then conclude with a brief improvement.
I. I would show what this spiritual and divine light is.
And in order to it, would show,
First , In a few things what it is not. And here,
1 . Those convictions that natural men may have of their
sin and misery, is not this spiritual and divine light. Men
in a natural condition may have convictions of the guilt
that lies upon them, and of the anger of God, and their
danger of divine vengeance. Such convictions are from
the Tight of truth. That some sinners have a greater con
viction of their guilt and misery than others, is because
some have more light, or more of an apprehension of truth,
than others. And this light and conviction may be from
the Spirit of God ; the Spirit convinces men of sin : but
yet nature is much more concerned in it than in the
communication of that spiritual and divine light that is
spoken of in the doctrine ; it is from the Spirit of God
only as assisting natural principles, and not as infusing
any new principles. Common grace differs from special,
in that it influences only by assisting of nature ; and not
by imparting grace, Or bestowing any thing above nature.
The light that is obtained is wholly natural, or of no
superior kind to what mere nature attains to, though more
of that kind be obtained than would be obtained if men
were left wholly to themselves : or, in other words, com
mon grace only assists the faculties of the soul to do that
more fully which they do by nature, as natural conscience
or reason will by mere nature make a man sensible of
guilt, and will accuse and condemn him when he has done
amiss. Conscience is a principle natural to men ; and the
work that it doth naturally, or of itself, is to give an appre
hension of right and wrong, and to suggest to the mind the
relation that there is between right and wrong and a retri
bution. The Spirit of God, in those convictions which
unregenerate men sometimes have, assists conscience to do
this work in a further degree than it would do if they were
left to themselves. He helps it against those things that
tend to stupify it, and obstruct its exercise. But in the
renewing and sanctifying work of the Holy Ghost, those
things are wrought in the soul that are above nature, and
of which there is nothing of the like kind in the soul by
nature ; and they are caused to exist in the soul habitually,
and according to such a stated constitution or law that lays
such a foundation for exercises in a continued course as'is
called a principle of nature. Not only are remaining
principles assisted to do their work more freely and fully,
but those principles are restored that were utterly destroyed
by the fart ; and the mind thenceforward habitually exerts
those acts that the dominion of sin had made it as wholly
destitute of as a dead body is of vital acts.
The Spirit of God acts in a very different manner in the
one case, from what he doth in the other. He may indeed
act upon the mind of a natural man, but he acts in the
mind of a saint as an' indwelling vital principle. He acts
upon the mind of an unregenerate person as an extrinsic
occasional agent ; for in acting upon them, he doth not
unite himself to them ; for notwithstanding all his influ
ences that they may possess, they are still sensual, having
not the Spirit. Jude 19. But he unites himself with the
mind of a saint, takes him for his temple, actuates and
influences him as a new supernatural principle of life and
action. There is this difference, that the Spirit of God, in
acting in the soul of a godly man, exerts and communi

cates himself there in his own proper nature. Holiness is
the proper nature of the Spirit of God. The Holy Spirit
operates in the minds of the godly, by uniting himself to
them, and living in them, exerting his own nature in the
exercise of their faculties. The Spirit of God may act
upon a creature, and yet not in acting communicate him
self. The Spirit of God may act upon inanimate creatures ;
as, the Spirit moved upon the face of the waters, in the
beginning of the creation ; so the Spirit of God may act
upon the minds of men many ways, and communicate
himself no more than when he acts upon an inanimate
creature. For instance, he may excite thoughts in them,
may assist their natural reason and understanding, or
may assist other natural principles, and this without any
union with the soul, but may act, as it were, upon an
external object. But as he acts in his holy influences and
spiritual operations, he acts in a way of peculiar commu
nication of himself ; so that the subject is thence denomi
nated spiritual.
2. This spiritual and divine light does not consist in any
impression made upon the imagination. It is no impres
sion upon the mind, as though one saw any thing with the
bodily eyes. It is no imagination or idea of an outward
light or glory, or any beauty of form or countenance, or a
visible lustre or brightness of any object. The imagination
may be strongly impressed with such things ; but this is
not spiritual light. Indeed when the mind has a lively
discovery of spiritual things, and is greatly affected by the
power of divine light, it may, and probably very com
monly doth, much affect the imagination ; so that impres
sions Of an outward beauty or brightness may accompany
those spiritual discoveries. But spiritual light is not that
impression upon the imagination, but an exceedingly
different thing. Natural men may have lively impressions
on their imaginations ; and we cannot determine but that
the devil, who transforms himself into an angel of light,
may cause imaginations of an outward beauty, or visible
glory, and of sounds and speeches, and other such things ;
but these are things of a vastly inferior nature to spiritual
light. 3. This spiritual light is not the suggesting of any new
truths or propositions not contained in the word of God.
This suggesting of new truths or doctrines to the mind,
independent ofany antecedent revelation of those proposi
tions, either in word or writing, is inspiration ; such as the
prophets and apostles had, and such as some enthusiasts
pretend to. But this spiritual light that I am speaking
of, is quite a different thing from inspiration. It reveals
no new doctrine, it suggests no new proposition to the
mind, it teaches no new thing of God, or Christ, or
another world, not taught in the Bible, but only gives a
due apprehension of those things that are taught in the
word of God.
4. It is not every affecting view that men have of reli
gious things that is this spiritual and divine light. Men
by mere principles of nature are capable of being affected
with things that have a special relation to religion as well
as other things. A person by mere nature, for instance,
may be liable to be affected with the story of Jesus Christ,
and the sufferings he underwent, as well as by any other
tragical story. He may be the more affected with it from
the interest he conceives mankind to have in it. Yea, he
may be affected with it without believing it; as well as a
man may be affected with what he reads in a romance, or
sees acted in a stage-play. He may be affected with a
lively and eloquent description of many pleasant things
that attend the state of the blessed in heaven, as well as
his imagination be entertained by a romantic description of
the pleasantness of fairy land, or the like. And a common
belief of the truth of such things, from education or other
wise, may help forward their affection. We read in Scrip
ture of many that were greatly affected with things of a
religious nature, who yet are there represented as wholly
graceless, and many of them very ill men. A person there
fore may have affecting views of the things of religion, and
yet be very destitute of spiritual light. Flesh and blood
may be the author of this : one man may give another an
affecting view of divine things with but common assist
ance; but God alone can give a spiritual discovery of
them  But I proceed to show,

14 Secondly, Positively what this spiritual and divine light
is. And it may be thus described : A true sense of the
divine excellency of the things revealed in the word of
God, and a conviction of the truth and reality of them
thence arising. This spiritual light primarily consists in
the former of these, viz. A real sense and apprehension of
the divine excellency of things revealed in the word of God.
A spiritual and saving conviction ofthe truth and reality of
these things, arises from such a sight of their divine ex
cellency and glory ; so that this conviction of their truth is
an effect and natural consequence of this sight of their
divine glory. There is therefore in this spiritual light,
1. A true sense of the divine and superlative excellency
of the things of religion ; a real sense of the excellency of
God and Jesus Christ, and of the work of redemption,
and the ways and works of God revealed in the gospel.
There is a divine and superlative glory in these things ;
an excellency that is of a vastly higher kind, and more
sublime nature, than in other things ; a glory greatly dis
tinguishing them from all that is earthly and temporal.
He that is spiritually enlightened truly apprehends and
sees it, or has a sense of it. He does not merely rationally
believe that God is glorious, but he has a sense of the
gloriousness of God in his heart. There is not only a
rational belief that God is holy, and that holiness is a good
thing, but there is a sense ofthe loveliness of God's holi-
liness. There is not only a speculatively judging that
God is gracious, but a sense how amiable God is on ac
count of the beauty of this divine attribute.
There is a twofold knowledge of good of which God
has made the mind of man capable. The first, that which
is merely notional ; as when a person only speculatively
judges that any thing is, which, by the agreement of man
kind, is called good or excellent, viz. that which is most
to general advantage, and between which and a reward
there is a suitableness, — and the like. And the other is,
that which consists in the sense of the heart ; as when the
heart is sensible of pleasure and delight in the presence of
the idea of it. In the former is exercised merely the
speculative faculty, or the understanding, in distinction
from the will or disposition of the soul. In the latter, the
will, or inclination, or heart are mainly concerned.
Thus there is a difference between having an opinion,
that God is holy and gracious, and having a sense of the
loveliness and beauty of that holiness and grace. There is
a difference between having a rational judgment that
honey is sweet, and having a sense of its sweetness. A
man may have the former that knows not how honey
tastes ; but a man cannot have the latter unless he has an
idea of the taste of honey in his mind. So there is a dif
ference between believing that a person is beautiful, and
having a sense of his beauty. The former may be obtained
by hearsay, but the latter only by seeing the countenance.
When the heart is sensible of the beauty and amiableness
of a thing, it necessarily feels pleasure in the apprehension.
It is implied in a person's being heartily sensible of the
loveliness of a thing, that the idea of it is pleasant to his
soul ; which is a far different thing from having a rational
opinion that it is excellent.
2. There arises from this sense of the divine excellency
of things contained in the word of God, a conviction of the
truth and reality of them ; and that either indirectly or
directly. First, Indirectly, and that two ways.
1. As the prejudices of the heart^ against the truth of
divine things, are hereby removed ; so that the mind be-
* In the preceding statement and the following explanation, our author
might have rendered the subject of " divine light immediately imparted to
the soul " more perspicuous, by a fuller use of that analogy which the
Scripture holds forth, between the common theory of vision and the doc
trine he defends. Let the remarks which follow be candidly considered.
1. In the sacred Scriptures, God is represented as" the Father of lights,"
and Christ as " the Sun of righteousness." _ea, it is asserted, that " God
is light," and that he " shines into the heart" These and similar expres
sions, with which the Old and New Testament abound, show that there is
a strong analogy between light in the natural world, and something spiritual
that is expressed by the same term.
2. As the light of day proceeds from the natural sun, and shines into the
eye ; so the spiritual or supernatural light proceeds from God, and shines
into the heart, or mind. Thus the analogy holds, not only as to the things
intended —in their sources, and their emanations — but also as to — le organs
of reception.
3. The existence of light in the eye depends neither on the perception
of it, nor on any external object. Our perception of illuminated objects is

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

comes susceptive of the due force of rational arguments for
their truth. The mind of man is naturally full of pre
judices against divine truth. It is full of enmity against
the doctrines of the gospel ; which is a disadvantage to
those arguments that prove their truth, and causes them to
lose their force upon the mind. But when a person has
discovered to him the divine excellency of christian doc
trines, this destroys the enmity, removes those prejudices,
sanctifies the reason, and causes it to tie open to the force
of arguments for their truth.
Hence was the different effect that Christ's miracles had
to convince the disciples, from what they had to convince
the scribes and Pharisees. Not that they had a stronger
reason, or had their reason more improved ; but their rea
son was sanctified, and those blinding prejudices, that the
scribes and Pharisees were under, were removed by the
sense they had of the excellency of Christ, and his doctrine.
2. It not only removes the hinderances of reason, but
positively helps reason. It makes even the speculative
notions more lively. It engages the attention of the mind,
with more fixedness and intenseness to that kind of ob
jects ; which causes it to have a clearer view of them, and
enables it more clearly to see their mutual relations, and
occasions it to take more notice of them. The ideas them
selves that otherwise are dim and obscure, are by this
means impressed with the greater strength, and have a
light cast upon them ; so that the mind can better judge
of them. As he that beholds objects on the face of the
earth, when the light of the sun is cast upon them, is under
greater advantage to discern them in their true forms and
natural relations, than he that sees them in a dim twilight.
The mind being sensible of the excellency of divine
objects, dwells upon them with delight ; and the powers
of the soul are more awakened and enlivened to employ
themselves in the contemplation of them, and exert them
selves more fully and much more to purpose. The beauty
of the objects draws on the faculties, and draws forth their
exercises ; so that reason itself is under far .greater advan
tages for its proper and free exercises, and to attain its
proper end, free of darkness and delusion.— But,
Secondly, A true sense of the divine excellency of the
things of God's word doth more directly and immediately
convince us of their truth ; and that because the excellency
of these things is so superlative. There is a beauty in
them so divine and God-like, that it greatly and evidently
distinguishes them from things merely human, or that of
which men are the inventors and authors ; a glory so high
and great, that when clearly -Seen, commands assent lo
their divine reality. When there is an actual and lively
discovery of this beauty and excellency, it will not allow
of any such thought as that it is the fruit of men's inven
tion. This is a kind of intuitive and immediate evidence.
They believe the doctrines of God's word to be divine,
because they see a divine, and transcendent, and most
evidently distinguishing glory in them ; such a glory as, if
clearly seen, does not leave room to doubt of their being of
God, and not of men.
Such a conviction of the truths of religion as this, arising
from a sense of their divine excellency, is included in
saving faith. And this original of it, is that by which it is
most essentially distinguished from that common assent,
of which unregenerate men are capable.
II. I proceed now to the second thing proposed, viz. To
show how this light is immediately given by God, and not
obtained by natural means.* And here,
1. It is not intended that the natural faculties are not
used in it. They are the subject of this light ; and in sueh
the effect of light's existence in the organ of vision. Without light both in
the eye, and on the object to be seen, there can be no perception of that ob
ject. In like manner, the existence of that light which emanates from God,
and shines into the mind, is there (that is, iu the mind) prior to, and inde-
pendent on the mental perception of it ; and consequently is there irrespec
tive of the knowledge of objects to be known by it — Therefore,
4. Knowledge can be called " light," only in a secondary sense, both na
turally and spiritually ; that is, by a metonymy, because it is the effect of
light W e know a visible object, because we see it ; and we see it, because
light shines both on the object, and into the eye. It is by divine light shin
ing into the mind that we have a spiritual knowledge of God, of Christ or
of any other object; iu other words, a holy emanation or influence from
God, called light, is the cause why any person or thing is known in a spi
ritual manner.
5. When any identify this divine light, these rays of the Sun of righteous
ness, with knowledge, (however spiritual and excellent, ) because the latter
is metonymically called " light." they are chargeable with identifying cause
and effect, and therefore of confounding things which essentially differ

Serm. I.

THE REALITY OF SPIRITUAL LIGHT.

15

a manner, that they are not merely passive, but active in
it. God, in letting in this light into the soul, deals with
man according to his nature, and makes use of his rational
faculties. But yet this light is not the less immediately
from God for that ; the faculties are made use of as the
subject, and not as the cause. As the use we make of our
eyes in beholding various obj sets, when the sun arises, is
not the cause of the light that discovers those objects to us.
2. It is not intended that outward means have no con
cern in this affair. It is not in this affair, as in inspiration,
where new truths are suggested : for by this light is given
only a due apprehension of the same truths that are re
vealed in the word of God ; and therefore it is not given
without the word. The gospel is employed in this affair.
This light is the " light of the glorious gospel of Christ,"
2 Cor. iv. 4. The gospel is as a glass, by which this light
is conveyed to us. 1 Cor. xiii. 12. " Now we see through
a glass." — But, .-'
3. When it is said that this light is given immediately
by God, and not obtained by natural means, hereby is in
tended, that it is given by God without making use of any
means that operate by their own power or natural force.
God makes use of means ; but it is not as mediate causes
to produce this effect. There are not truely any second
causes of it; but it is produced by God immediately. The
word of God is no proper cause of this effect ; but is made
use of only to convey to the mind the subject-matter of
this saving instruction : and this indeed it doth convey to
us by natural force or influence. It conveys to our minds
these doctrines ; it is the cause of a notion of them in our
heads, but not ofthe sense of their divine excellency in our
hearts. Indeed a person cannot have spiritual light with
out the word. But that does not argue, that the word pro-
fierly causes that light. The mind cannot see the excel-
ency of any doctrine, unless that doctrine be first in the
mind ; but seeing the excellency of the doctrine may be
immediately from the Spirit of God ; though the convey
ing of the doctrine or proposition itself may be by the
word. So that the notions which are the subject-matter of
this light, are conveyed to the mind by the word of God ;
but that due sense of the heart, wherein this light formally
consists, is immediately by the Spirit of God. As for
instance, the notion that there is a Christ, and that Christ
is holy and gracious, is conveyed to the mind by the word
of God; but the sense of the excellency of Christ by
reason of that holiness and grace, is nevertheless immedi
ately the work of the Holy Spirit.  1 come now,
III. To show the truth of the doctrine ; that is, to show
that there is such a thing as that spiritual light that has
been described, thus immediately let into the mind by
God. And here I would show briefly, that this doctrine
is, both scriptural and rational.
First, It is scriptural. My text is not only full to the
purpose, but it is a doctrine with which the Scripture
abounds. We are there abundantly taught, that the saints
differ from the ungodly in this, that thev have the know
ledge of God, and a sight of God, and of Jesus Christ.
I shall mention but few texts out of many : 1 John iii. 6.
" Whosoever sinneth, hath not seen him, nor known him."
3 John 11. " He that doth good, is of God : but he that
doth evil, hath not seen God. ' John xiv. 19. " The world
seeth me no more ; but ye see me." John xvii. 3. " And
this is eternal life, that they might know thee, the only true
God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." This
knowledge, or sight of God and Christ, cannot be a mere
speculative knowledge ; because it is spoken of as that
wherein they differ from the ungodly. And by these
scriptures it must not only be a different knowledge in
degree and circumstances, and different in its effects ; but
it must be entirely different in nature and kind.
And this light and knowledge is always spoken of as
immediately given of God ; Matt. xi. 25—27. " At that
time Jesus answered and said, I thank thee, O Father,
Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these
For spiritual light, in the primary and proper sense, emanates immediately
from God, as rays from the sun ; but this cannot be said of knowledge, be
cause th£ perception of an object, which is our act, must intervene.
Knowledge presupposes the primary light, and is also dependent on the
objective truths perceived. All knowledge, whether natural or spiritual,
stands essentially related to objects known ; so that without those objects it
can have no existence. The knowledge of objects to be seen, therefore, is

things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them
unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in
thy sight. All things are delivered unto me of my Father :
and no man knoweth the Father, save the Son, and he to
whomsoever the Son will reveal him." Here this effect is
ascribed exclusively to the arbitrary operation and gift of
God bestowing this knowledge on whom he will, and dis
tinguishing those with it who have the least natural advan
tage or means for knowledge, even babes, when it is denied
to the wise and prudent. And imparting this knowledge
is here appropriated to the Son of God, as his sole
prerogative. And again, 2 Cor. iv. 6. " For God who
commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined
in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the
glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ." This plainly
shows, that there is a discovery of the divine superlative
glory and excellency of God and Christ, peculiar to the
saints ; and also, that it is as immediately from God, as
light from the sun : and that it is the immediate effect of
his power and will. For it is compared to God's creating
the light by his powerful word in the beginning of the
creation ; and is said to be by the Spirit of the Lord, in
the 1 8th verse of the preceding chapter. God is spoken
of as giving the knowledge of Christ in conversion, as of
what before was hidden and unseen, Gal. i. 15, 16. " But
when it pleased God, who separated me from my mother's
womb, and called me by his grace, to reveal his Son in
me." — The Scripture also speaks plainly of such a know
ledge of the word of God, as has been described, as the
immediate gift of God ; Ps. cxix. 18. " Open thou mine
eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law."
What could the psalmist mean, when he begged of God
to open his eyes ? Was he ever blind ? Might he not have
resort to the law and see every word and sentence in it
when he pleased? And what could he mean by those
wondrous things? Were they the wonderful stories of the
creation, and deluge, and Israel's passing through the Red
sea, and the like ? Were not his eyes open to read these
strange things when he would ? Doubtless by wondrous
things in God's law, he had respect to those distinguishing
and wonderful excellencies, and marvellous manifestations
of the divine perfections and glory, contained in the com
mands and doctrines of the word, and those works and
counsels of God that were there revealed. So the Scrip
ture speaks of a knowledge of God's dispensation and
covenant of mercy and way of grace towards his people,
as peculiar to the saints, and given only by God, Ps. xxv.
14. " The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him ;
and he will show them his covenant."
And that a true and saving belief of the truth of religion
is that which arises from such a discovery, is also what the
Scripture teaches. As John vi. 40. " And this is the will
of him that sent me, that every one who seeth the Son,
and believeth on him, may have everlasting life ;" where it
is plain that a true faith is what arises from a spiritual
sight of Christ. And, John xvii. 6, 7, 8. " I have mani
fested thy name unto the men which thou gavest me out
of the world.— Now they have known that all things what
soever thou hast given me, are of thee. For I have given
unto them the words which thou gavest me, and they have
received them, and have known surely that I came out
from thee,and they have believed that thou didst send me;"
where Christ's manifesting God's name to the disciples, or
giving them the knowledge of God, was that whereby they
knew that Christ's doctrine was of God, and that Christ
himself proceeded from him, and was sent by him. Again,
John xii. 44, 45, 46. " Jesus cried and said, He that be
lieveth on me, believeth not on me, but on him that sent
me. And he that seeth me, seeth him that sent me. I
am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth
on me, should not abide in darkness." There believing in
Christ, and spiritually seeing him, are parallel.
Christ condemns the Jews, that they did not know that
he was the Messiah, and that his doctrine was true, from
the effect of two causes concurring, the object itself and light : whereas the
"divine light which is immediately imparted to the soul," has but one
cause, even the sovereign will of God.
6. Ooroll. The theological notion which makes all spiritual light in man
to consist iu knowledge, and which is become too fashionable in the present
day, is contrary to Scripture, and to rational analogy.— W.

16

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

an inward distinguishing taste and relish of what was di
vine, in Luke xii. 56, 57. He having there blamed the
Jews, that though they could discern the face of the sky
and of the earth, and signs of the weather, that they could
not discern those times — or as it is expressed in Matthew,
the signs of those times— adds, " yea, and why even of
your own selves, judge ye not what is right?" i. e. with
out extrinsic signs, why have ye not that sense of true
excellency, whereby ye may distinguish that which is holy
and divine ? Why have ye not that savour of the things
of God, by which you may see the distinguishing glory,
and evident divinity, of me and my doctrine ?
The apostle Peter mentions it as what gave him and his
companions good and well-grounded assurance of the truth
of the gospel, that they had seen the divine glory of Christ.
— 2 Pet i. 16. " For we have not followed cunningly de
vised fables, when we made known unto you the power
and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eye-wit
nesses of his majesty." The apostle has respect to that visi
ble glory of Christ which they saw in his transfiguration :
that glory was so divine, having such an ineffable appear
ance and semblance of divine holiness, majesty, and grace,
that it evidently denoted him to be a divine person. But
if a sight of Christ's outward glory might give a rational
assurance of his divinity, why may not an apprehension of
his spiritual glory do so too ? Doubtless Christ's spiritual
glory is in itself as distinguishing, and as plainly shows
his divinity, as his outward glory, — nay, a great deal more :
for his spiritual glory is that wherein his divinity consists :
and the outward glory of his transfiguration showed him
to be divine, only as it was a remarkable image or repre
sentation of that spiritual glory. Doubtless, therefore, he
that has had a clear sight of the spiritual glory of Christ,
may say, I have not followed cunningly devised fables, but
have been an eye-witness of his majesty, upon as good
grounds as the apostle, when he had respect to the outward
glory of Christ that he had seen. But this brings me to
what was proposed next, viz. to show that,
Secondly, This doctrine is rational.
1. It is rational to suppose, that there is really such an
excellency in divine things — so transcendent and exceed
ingly different from what is in other things — that, if it were
seen, would most evidently distinguish them. We cannot
rationally doubt but that things divine, which appertain to
the Supreme Being, are vastly different from things that
are human ; that there is a high, glorious, and God-like ex
cellency in them, that does most remarkably difference
them from the things that are of men ; insomuch that if
the difference were but seen, it would have a convincing,
satisfying influence uponany one, that they are divine. What
reason can be offered against it ? unless we would argue,
that God is not remarkably distinguished in glory from men.
If Christ should now appear to any one as he did on
the mount at his transfiguration ; or if he should appear
to the world in his heavenly glory, as he will do at the day
of judgment ; without doubt, his glory and majesty would
be such as would satisfy every one, that he was a divine
person, and that religion was true : and it would be a most
reasonable and well-grounded conviction too. And why
may there not be that stamp of divinity, or divine glory, on
the word of God, on the scheme and doctrine of the gospel,
that may be in like manner distinguishing and as rationally
convincing, provided it be but seen ? It is rational to sup
pose, that when God speaks to the world, there should be
something in his word vastly different from men's word.
Supposing that God never had spoken to the world, but
we had notice that he was about to reveal himself from
heaven, and speak to us immediately himself, or that he
should give us a book of his own inditing ; after what
manner should we expect that he would speak ? Would
it not be rational to suppose, that his speech would be ex
ceeding different from men's speech, that there should be
such an excellency and sublimity in his word, such a stamp
of wisdom, holiness, majesty, and other divine perfections,
that the word of men, yea of the wisest of men, should
appear mean and base in comparison of it ? Doubtless it
would be thought rational to expect this, and unreasonable
to think otherwise. When a wise man speaks in the ex
ercise of his wisdom, there is something in every thing he
says, that is very distinguishable from the talk of a little

child. So, without doubt, and much more, is the speech
of God to be distinguished from that of the wisest of
men; agreeable to Jer. xxiii. 28, 29. God having there
been reproving the false prophets that prophesied in his
name, and pretended that what they spake was his word,
when indeed it was their own word, says, " The prophet
that hath a dream, let him tell a dream ; and he that hath
my word, let him speak my word faithfully : what is the
chaff to the wheat ? saith the Lord. Is not my word like
as a fire ? saith the Lord : and like a hammer that breaketh
the rock in pieces."
2. If there be such a distinguishing excellency in divine
things ; it is rational to suppose that there may be such a
thing as seeing it. What should hinder but that it may be
seen ? It is no argument, that there is no such distinguish
ing excellency, or that it cannot be seen, because some do
not see it, though they may be discerning men in temporal
matters. It is not rational to suppose, if there be any such
excellency in divine things, that wicked men should see
it. Is it rational to suppose, that those whose minds are
full of spiritual pollution, and under the power of filthy
lusts, should have any relish or sense of divine beauty or
excellency ; or that their minds should be susceptive of
that light that is in its own nature so pure and heavenly ?
It need not seem at all strange, that sin should so blind the
mind, seeing that men's particular natural tempers and dis
positions will so much blind them in secular matters ; as
when men's natural temper is melancholy, jealous, fearful,
proud, or the like.
3. It is rational to suppose, that this knowledge should
be given immediately by God, and not be obtained by
natural means. Upon what account should it seem un
reasonable, that there should be any immediate communi
cation between God and the creature ? It is strange that
men should make any matter of difficulty of it. Why
should not he that made all things, still have something
immediately to do with the things that he has made.'
Where lies the great difficulty, if we own the being of a
God, and that he created all things out of nothing, of al
lowing some immediate influence of God on the creation
still ? And if it be reasonable to suppose it with respect
to any part of the creation, it is especially so with respect
to reasonable intelligent creatures ; who are next to God
in the gradation of the different orders of beings, and whose
business is most immediately with God; and reason
teaches that man was made to serve and glorify his Crea
tor. And if it be rational to suppose that God imme
diately communicates himself to man in any affair, it is in
this. It is rational to suppose that God would reserve
that knowledge and wisdom, which is of such a divine and
excellent nature, to be bestowed immediately by himself;
and that it should not be left in the power of second causes.
Spiritual wisdom and grace is the highest and most excel
lent gift that ever God bestows on any creature : in this
the highest excellency and perfection of a rational crea
ture consists. It is also immensely the most important of
all divine gifts : it is that wherein man's happiness con
sists, and on which his everlasting welfare depends. How
rational is it to suppose that God, however he has left
lower gifts to second causes, and in some sort in their
power, yet should reserve this most excellent, divine, and
important of all divine communications, in his own hands,
to be bestowed immediately by himself, as a thing too
great for second causes to be concerned in ? It is rational
to suppose, that this blessing should be immediately from
God, for there is no gift or benefit that is in itself so nearly
related to the divine nature. Nothing which the creature
receives is so much a participation of the Deity : it is a
kind of emanation of God's beauty, and is related to God
as the light is to the sun. It is therefore congruous and
fit, that when it is given of God, it should be immediately
from himself, and by himself, according to his own sove
reign will.
It is rational to suppose, that it should be beyond man's
power to obtain this light by the mere strength of natural
reason ; for it is not a thing that belongs to reason, to see
the beauty and loveliness of spiritual things ; it is not a
speculative thing, but depends on the sense of the heart.
Reason indeed is necessary in order to it, as it is by reason
only that we are become the subjects of the means of it;

Serm. I.

THE REALITY OF SPIRITUAL LIGHT.

17

which means I have already shown to be necessary in
order to it, though they have no proper causal influence in
the affair. It is by reason that we become possessed of a
notion of those doctrines that are the subject-matter of this
divine light, or knowledge ; and reason may many ways
be indirectly and remotely an advantage to it. Reason
has also to do in the acts that are immediately consequent
on this discovery : for seeing the truth of religion from
hence, is by reason ; though it be but by one step, and the
inference be immediate. So reason has to do in that ac
cepting of and trusting in Christ, that is consequent on it.
But if we take reason strictly — not for the faculty of men
tal perception in general, but for ratiocination, or a power
of inferring by arguments — the perceiving of spiritual
beauty and excellency no more belongs to reason, than it
belongs to the sense of feeling to perceive colours, or to
the power of seeing to perceive the sweetness of food. It
is out of reason's province to perceive the beauty or love
liness of any thing : such a perception does not belong to
that faculty. Reason's work is to perceive truth and not
excellency. It is not ratiocination that gives men the per
ception of the beauty and amiableness of a countenance,
though it may be many ways indirectly an advantage to
it ; yet it is no more reason that immediately perceives it,
than it is reason that perceives the sweetness of honey : it
depends on the sense of the heart. — Reason may deter
mine that a countenance is beautiful to others, it may de
termine that honey is sweet to others ; but it will never
give me a perception of its sweetness.
I will conclude with a very brief improvement of what
has been said.
First, This doctrine may lead us to reflect on the good
ness of God, that has so ordered it, that a saving evidence
of the truth of the gospel is such, as is attainable by per
sons of mean capacities and advantages, as well as those
that are of the greatest parts and learning. If the evidence
of the gospel depended only on history, and such reason
ings as learned men only are capable of, it would be above
the reach of far the greatest part of mankind. But persons
with an ordinary degree of knowledge are capable, without
a long and subtile train of reasoning, to see the divine ex
cellency ofthe things of religion : they are capable of being
taught by the Spirit of God, as well as learned men. The
evidence that is this way obtained, is vastly better and
more satisfying, than all that can be obtained by the argu-
ings of those that are most learned, and greatest masters of
reason. And babes are as capable of knowing these things,
as the wise and prudent; and they are often hid from
these when they are revealed to those. 1 Cor. i. 26, 27.
" For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many
wise men after the •flesh, not many mighty, not many
noble, are called. But God hath chosen the foolish things
of the world — ."
Secondly, This doctrine may well put us upon examining
ourselves, whether we have ever had this divine light let
into our souls. If there be such a thing, doubtless it is of
great importance whether we have thus Deen taught by the
Spirit of God ; whether the light ofthe glorious gospel of
Christ, who is the image of God, hath shined unto us,
giving us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God

in the face of Jesus Christ ; whether we have seen the Son,
and believed on him, or have that faith of gospel-doctrines
which arises from a spiritual sight of Christ.
Thirdly, All may hence be exhorted, earnestly to seek
this spiritual light. To influence and move to it, the fol
lowing things may be considered.
1 . This is the most excellent and divine wisdom that any
creature is capable of. It is more excellent than any
human learning; it is far more excellent than all the
knowledge of the greatest philosophers or statesmen. Yea,
the least glimpse of the glory of God in the face of Christ
doth more exalt and ennoble the soul, than all the know
ledge of those that have the greatest speculative under
standing in divinity without grace. This knowledge has
the most noble object that can be, viz. the divine glory
and excellency of God and Christ. The knowledge of
these objects is that wherein consists the most excellent
knowledge of the angels, yea, of God himself.
2. This knowledge is that which is above all others
sweet and joyful. Men have a great deal of pleasure in
human knowledge, in studies of natural things ; but this is
nothing to that joy which arises from this divine light
shining into the soul. This light gives a view of those
things that are immensely the most exquisitely beautiful,
and capable of delighting the eye of the understanding.
This spiritual light is tlie dawning of the light of glory in
the heart. There is nothing so powerful as this to support
Eersons in affliction, and to give the mind peace and
lightness in this stormy and dark world.
3 . This light is such as effectually influences the in
clination, and changes the nature of the soul. It assimilates
our nature to the divine nature, and changes the soul into
an image of the same glory that is beheld. 2 Cor. iii.
18. " But we all with open face, beholding as in a glass
the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image,
from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord."
This knowledge will wean from the world, and raise the
inclination to heavenly things. It will turn the heart to
God as the fountain of good, and to choose him for the
only portion. This light, and this only, will bring the soul
to a saving close with Christ. It conforms the heart to
the gospel, mortifies its enmity and opposition against the
scheme of salvation therein revealed : it causes the heart to
embrace the joyful tidings, and entirely to adhere to, and
acquiesce in the revelation of Christ as our Saviour : it
causes the whole soul to accord and symphonize with it,
admitting it with entire credit and respect, cleaving to it
with full inclination and affection ; and it effectually dis
poses the soul to give up itself entirely to Christ.
4. This light, and this only, has its fruit in an universal
holiness of life. No merely notional or speculative under
standing ofthe doctrines of religion will ever bring to this.
But this light, as it reaches the bottom of the heart, and
changes the nature, so it will effectually dispose to an
universal obedience. It shows God as worthy to he obeyed
and served. It draws forth the heart in a sincere love to
God, which is the only principle of a true, gracious, and
universal obedience; and it convinces of the reality of
those glorious rewards that God has promised to them
that obey him.

SERMON II*

THE CHURCH'S MARRIAGE TO HER SONS, AND TO HER GOD.

Isaiah Ixii. 4, 5.
Thy land shall be married. For as a young man marrieth
a virgin, so shall thy sons marry thee : and as the bride
groom rejoiceth over the bride, so shall thy God rejoice
over thee.
In the midst of many blessed promises that God makes
to his church— in this and the preceding and following
« Preached at the instalment of the Rev. Samuel Buel, as pastor of the
VOL. II. C

chapters — of advancement to a state of great peace, com
fort, honour, and joy, after long-continued affliction, we
have the sum of all contained in these two verses. In the
4th verse God says to his church, " Thou shalt no more
be termed, Forsaken ; neither shall thy land any more be
termed Desolate : but thou shalt be called Hephzi-bah,
and thy land, Beulah : for the Lord delighteth in thee, and
thy land shall be married." When it is said, " Thy land
shall be married," we are to understand, " the body of thy
church and congregation at East Hampton on Long Island, Sept. 19, 174&

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

people, thy whole race ;" the land— by a metonymy, very
usual in Scripture — being put for the people that inhabit
the land. — The 5th verse explains how this should be ac
complished in two things, viz. m being married to htr sons,
and married to her God.
1 . It is promised that she should be married to her sons,
or that her sons should marry her ? " For as a young man
marrieth a virgin, so shall thy sons marry thee." Or, as
the words might have been more literally translated from
the original : " As a young man is married to a virgin, so
shall thy sons be married to thee." Some by this under
stand a promise, that the posterity of the captivated Jews
should return again from Babylon to the land of Canaan,
and should be, as it were, married or wedded to their own
land ; i. e. They should be re-united to their own land,
and should have great comfort and joy in it, as a young
man in a virgin that he marries. But when it is said, " So
shall thy sons marry thee." God does not direct his
speech to the land itself, but to the church whose land it
was ; the pronoun thee being applied to tlie same mystical
person in this former part of the verse, as in the words
immediately following in the latter part of the same sen
tence, " And as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride,
so shall thy God rejoice over thee. It is the church, and
not the hills and valleys of the land of Canaan, that is
God's bride, or the Lamb's wife. It is also manifest, that
when God says, " So shall thy sons marry thee," he con
tinues to speak to her to whom he had spoken in the
three preceding verses ; but there it is not the land of '
Canaan, but the church, that, he speaks to when he says,
" The Gentiles shall see thy righteousness, and all kings
thy glory : and thou shalt be called by a new name, which
the mouth of the Lord shall name. Thou shalt also be
a crown of glory in the hand of the Lord, and a royal
diadem in the hand of thy God. Thou shalt no more be
termed Forsaken," &c. And to represent the land itself
as a bride, and the subject of espousals and marriage, would
be a figure of speech very unnatural, and not known in
Scripture ; but for the church of God to be thus repre
sented is very usual from the beginning to the end of the
Bible. And then it is manifest that the return of the Jews
to the land of Canaan from the Babylonish captivity, is
not the event mainly intended by the prophecy of which
these words are a part. That was not the time fulfilled in
the 2nd verse of this chapter, " And the Gentiles shall see
thy righteousness, and all kings thy glory : and thou shalt
be called bv a new name, which the mouth of the Lord
shall name?' That was not the time spoken of in the
preceding chapters, with which this chapter is one con
tinued prophecy. That was not the time spoken of in the
last words of the foregoing chapter, when the Lord would
cause righteousness and praise to spring forth before all
nations : nor was it the time spoken of in the 5th, 6th,
and 9th verses of that chapter, when " strangers should
stand and feed the flocks of God's people, and the sons of
the alien should be their ploughmen, and vine-dressers ;
but they should be named the priests of the Lord, and
men should call them the ministers of God ; when they
should eat the riches of the Gentiles, and in their glory
boast themselves, and their seed should be known among
the Gentiles, and their offspring among the people ; and
all that should see them should acknowledge them, that
they are the seed which the Lord hath blessed." Nor was
that the time spoken of in the chapter preceding that
" when the abundance of the sea should be converted unto
the church ; when the isles should wait for God, and the
ships of Tarshish to bring her sons from far, and their
silver and gold with them ; when the forces of the Gentiles
and their kings should be brought; when the church
should suck the milk of the Gentiles, and suck the breast
of kings ; and when that nation and kingdom that would
not serve her should perish and be utterly wasted : and
when the sun should be no more her light by day, neither
for brightness should the moon give light unto her, but the
Lord should be unto her an everlasting light, and her God
her glory ; and her sun should no more go down, nor her
moon withdraw itself, because the. Lord should be her
everlasting light, and the days of her mourning should be
ended." These things manifestly ha e respect to the chris
tian church in her most perfect and glorious state on earth

in the last ages of the world ; when the church should be
so far from being confined to the land of Canaan, that she
should fill the whole earth, and all lands should be alike
holy. These words in the text, " As a young man marrieth a
virgin, so shall thy sons marry thee," I choose rather, with
others, to understand as expressive of the church's union
with her faithful pastors, and the great benefits she should
receive from them. God's ministers, though they are
set to be the instructors, guides, and fathers of God's peo
ple, yet are also the sons of the church, Amos ii. 1 1 . " I
raised up of your sons for prophets, and of your young
men for Nazarites." Such as these, when faithful, are
those precious sons of Zion comparable to fine gold spoken
of, Lam. iv. 2, 7. " Her Nazarites were purer than snow,
they were whiter than milk." And as he that marries a
young virgin becomes the guide of her youth ; so these
sons of Zion are represented as taking her by the hand
as her guide, Isa. li. 18. " There is none to guide her
among all the sons whom she hath brought forth ; neither
is there any that taketh her by the hand of all the sons that
she hath brought up." That by these sons of the church
is meant ministers of the gospel, is confirmed by the next
verse to the text, " I have set watchmen upon thy walls,
O Jerusalem."
That the sons of tlie church should be married to her
as a young man to a virgin, is a mystery not unlike many
others held forth in the word of God, concerning the rela
tion between Christ and his people, and their relation to
him and to one another. Christ is David's Lord and yet
his Son, and both the Root and Offspring of David. Christ
is a Son born and a Child given, and yet the everlasting
Father. The church is Christ's mother, Cant. iii. 11. and
viii. 1. and yet his spouse, his sister, and his child. Be
lievers are Christ's mother, and yet his sister and brother.
Ministers are the sons of the church, and yet are her fa
thers. The apostle speaks of himself, as the father of the
members of the church of Corinth, and also the mother
of the Galatians, travailing in birth with them, Gal. iv.
19. 2. The second and chief fulfilment of the promise con
sists in the church being married to Christ : " And as the
bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so shall thy God re
joice over thee." Not that we are to understand that the
church has many husbands, or that Christ is one husband,
and ministers are other husbands strictly speaking. For
though ministers are here spoken of as being married to
the church, yet it is not as his competitors, or as standing
in a conjugal relation to his bride in any wise parallel
with his. For the church properly has but one husband ;
she is not an adulteress, but a virgin, who is devoted
wholly to the Lamb, and who follows him whithersoever
he goes. But ministers espouse the church entirely as
Christ's ambassadors, as representing him and standing in
his stead, being sent forth by him to be married to her in
his name, that by this means she may be married to him.
As when" a prince marries a foreign lady by proxy, the
Erince's ambassador marries her, but not in his own name,
ut in the name of his master, that he may be the instru
ment of bringing her into a true conjugal relation to him.
This is agreeable to what the apostle says, 2 Cor. xi. 2.
" I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy ; for I
have espoused you to one husband, that I may present
you as a chaste virgin to Christ." Here the apostle repre
sents himself as being, as it were, the husband of the
church of Corinth ; for it is the husband that is jealous
when the wife commits adultery ; and yet he speaks of
himself as having espoused them, not in his own name,
but in that name of Christ, and for him, and him only,
and as his ambassador, sent forth to bring them home a
chaste virgin to him. Ministers are in the text represent
ed as married to the church in the same sense that else
where they are represented as fathers of the church. The
church has but one father, even God, and ministers are
fathers as his ambassadors ; so the church has but one
shepherd, John x. 16. "There shall be one fold and one
shepherd;" but yet ministers, as Christ's ambassadors,
are often called the church's shepherds or pastors. The
church has but one Saviour ; but yet ministers, as his
ambassadors and instruments,, are called her saviours -

Serm. II.

THE CHURCIIS MARRIAGE, &c.

10

1 Tim. iv. 16. " In doing this thou shalt both save thyself
and them that hear thee." Obad. 21. " And saviours
shall come upon mount Zion." The church has but
one Priest; but yet in Isaiah lxvi. 21. speaking of the
ministers of the (.entile nations, it is said, " I will take
of them for priests and Levites." The church has but
one Judge, for the Father hath committed all judgment
to the Son ; yet Christ tells his apostles, that they shall
sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
When the text speaks first of ministers marrying the
church, and then of Christ's rejoicing over her as the
bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride ; the former is mani
festly spoken of as being in order to the latter ; even in
order to the joy and happiness that the church shall have
in her true bridegroom. The preaching of the gospel is in
this context spoken of three times successively, as the
great means of bringing about the prosperity and joy of
the church ; once, m the first verse, " For Zion's sake
will I not hold my peace, and for Jerusalem's sake I will
not rest, until the righteousness thereof go forth as bright
ness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that burnetii;"
and then in the text; and lastly in the two following
verses, " I have set watchmen upon thy walls, O Jerusa
lem, which shall never hold their peace day nor night.
Ye that make mention ofthe Lord, keep not silence ; and
give him no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jeru
salem a praise in the earth."
The text thus opened affords these two propositions
proper for our consideration on the solemn occasion of
this day.
I. The uniting of faithful ministers with Christ's people
in the ministerial office, when done in a due manner, is
like a young man's marrying a virgin.
II. This union of ministers with the people of Christ
is in order to their being brought to the blessedness of a
more glorious union, in which Christ shall rejoice over
them, as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride.
I. Prop. The uniting of a faithful minister with Christ's
people in the ministerial office, when done in a due man
ner, is like a young man's marrying a virgin. .
I say, the uniting of a faithful minister with Christ's
people, and in a due manner : for we must suppose that
the promise God makes to the church in the text, relates
to such ministers, and such a manner of union with the
church ; because this is promised to the church as a part
of her latter-day glory, and as a benefit that should be
granted her by God, as the fruit of his great love to her,
and an instance of her great spiritual prosperity and hap
piness in her purest and most excellent state on earth.
But it would be no such instance of God's great favour
and the church's happiness, to have unfaithful ministers
entering into office m an undue and improper manner.
They are evidently faithful ministers that are spoken of in
the next verse, where the same are douotless spoken of as
in the text ; " I have set watchmen on thy walls, O Je
rusalem, which shall never hold their peace dav nor
night." And they are those that shall be introduced into
the ministry at a time of its extraordinary purity, order,
and beauty, wherein (as is said in the first, second, and
third verses) her " righteousness should go forth as bright
ness, and the Gentiles should see her righteousness, and
all kings her glory, and she should be a crown of glory
in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand
of her God."
When I speak of the uniting of a faithful minister with
Christ's people in a due manner, I do not mean a due
manner only with regard to external order ; but its being
truly done in a holy manner, with sincere upright aims
and intentions, with a right disposition, and proper frames
of mind in those that are concerned ; and particularly in
the minister that, takes office, and God's people to whom
he is united, each exercising in this affair a proper regard
to God and one another. — Such an uniting of a faithful
minister with the people of God in the ministerial office,
is in some respects like a young man marrying a virgin.
1. When a duly qualified person is properly invested
with the ministerial character, and does in, a due manner
take upon him the sacred work arid office of a minister of
c 2

the gospel, he does, in some sense, espouse the church of
Christ in general. For though he do not properly stand
in a pastoral relation to the whole church of Christ through
the earth, and is far from becoming an universal pastor;
yet thenceforward he has a different concern with the
church of Christ in general, and its interests and welfare,
than other persons have that are laymen, and should be
regarded otherwise by all the members of the christian
church. Wherever he is providentially called to preach
the word of God, or minister in holy things, he ought to
be received as a minister of Christ, and the messenger of
the Lord of hosts to them. And every one that takes on
him this office as he ought to do, espouses the church of
Christ, as he espouses the interest of the church in a man
ner that is peculiar. He is under obligations, as a minis
ter of the christian church, beyond other men, to love the
church, as Christ her true bridegroom hath loved her, and
to prefer Jerusalem above his chief joy, and to imitate
Christ, the great shepherd and bishop of souls and hus
band of the church, in his care and tender concern for her
welfare, and earnest and constant labours to promote it,
as he has opportunity. And as he, in taking office, de
votes himself to the service of Christ in his church ; so he
gives himself to the church, to be hers, in that love, ten
der care, constant endeavour, and earnest labour for her
provision, comfort, and welfare, that is proper to his office,
as a minister of Providence, as long as he lives ; as a
young man gives himself to a virgin when he marries her.
And the church of Christ in general, as constituted of true
saints through the world, (though they do not deliver up
themselves to any one [particular minister, as universal
pastor, yet,) cleave to and embrace the ministry of the
church with endeared affection, high honour, and esteem,
for Christ's sake. They joyfully commit and subject
themselves to them ; they resolve to honour and help them,
to be guided by them and obey them so long as in the
world ; as the bride doth in marriage deliver up herself to
her husband. And the ministry in general, or the whole
number of faithful .ministers, being all united in the same
work as fellow-labourers, and conspiring to the same design
as fellow-helpers, to the grace of God, may be considered
as one mystical person, that espouses the church as a
young man espouses a virgin : as the many elders of the
church of Ephesus are represented as one mystical person,
Rev. ii. 1. and all called the angel of the church of
Ephesus : and as -the faithful ministers of Christ in gene
ral, all over the world, seem to be represented as one
mystical person, and called an angel, Rev. xiv. 6. "And
1 saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the
everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell upon
the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue,
and people." — But,
2. More especially is the uniting of a faithful minister
with a particular christian people, as their pastor, when
done in a due manner, like a young man marrying a
virgin. — It is so with respect to the union itself, the con
comitants of the union, and the fruits of it.
(1.) The union itself is in several respects like that which
is between a young man and a virgin whom he marries.
It is so with respect to mutual regard and affection. A
faithful minister, that is in a christian manner united to a
christian people as their pastor, has his heart united to
them in the most ardent and tender affection. And they,
on the other hand, have their hearts united to him, es
teeming him very highly in love for his work's sake, and
receiving him with honour and reverence, and willingly
subjecting themselves to him, and committing themselves
to his care, as being, under Christ, their head and guide.
And such a pastor and people are like a young man and
virgin united in marriage, with respect to the purity of
taeir regard one to another. The young man gives himself
to his bride m purity, as undebauched by meretricious
embraces ; and she also presents herself to him a chaste
virgin. So in such an union of a minister and people as
we are speaking of, the parties united are pure and holy
in their affection and regard one to another. The minister's
heart is united to the people, not for filthy lucre, or any
worldly advantage, but with a pure benevolence to theni,
and desire of their spiritual welfare and prosperity, and
complacence in them as the children of God and followers

20
of Christ Jesus. And, on the otlier hand, they love and
honour him with a holy affection and esteem ; and not
merely as having their admiration raised, and their carnal
affection moved, by having their curiosity, and other fleshly
principles, gratified by a florid eloquence, and the excellency
of speech and man's wisdom ; but receiving him as the
messenger of the Lord of hosts, coming to them on a
divine and infinitely important errand, and with those holy
qualifications that resemble the virtues ofthe Lambof God.
And as the bridegroom and bride give themselves to
each other in covenant ; so it is in that union we are
speaking of between a faithful pastor and a christian
people. The minister, by solemn vows, devotes himself
to the people, to improve his time and strength, and spend
and be spent for them, so long as God in his providence
shall continue the union ; and they, on the other hand,
in a holy covenant commit the care of their souls, and
subject themselves, to him.
(2.) The union between a faithful minister and a chris
tian people, is like that between a young man and virgin
in their marriage, with respect to the concomitants of it.
When such a minister and such a people are thus
united, it is attended with great joy. The minister joyfully
devoting himself to the service of his Lord in the work of
the ministry, as a work that he delights in ; and also joy
fully uniting himself to the society of the saints that he is
set over, as having complacence in them, for his dear
Lord's sake, whose people they are ; and willingly and
joyfully, on Christ's call, undertaking the labours and
difficulties of the service of their souls. And they, on the
other hand ; joyfully receiving him as a precious gift of
their ascended Redeemer. Thus a faithful minister and
a christian people are each other's joy, Rom. xv. 32.
"That I may come unto you with joy by the will of God,
and may with you be refreshed." 2 Cor. i. 14. "As you
have acknowledged us in part, that we are your rejoicing,
even as ye are ours."
Another concomitant of this union, wherein it resembles
that which becomes a young man and virgin united in
marriage, is mutual helpfulness, and a constant care and
endeavour to promote each other's good and comfort. The
minister earnestly and continually seeks the profit and
comfort of the souls of his people, and to guard and de
fend them from every thing that might annoy them, and
studies and labours to promote their spiritual peace and
prosperity. They, on the other hand, make it their con
stant care to promote his comfort, to make the burden of
his difficult work easy, to avoid those things that might
add to the difficulty of it, and that might justly be grievous
to his heart. They do what in them lies to encourage his
heart, and strengthen his hands in his work ; and are
ready to say to him, when called to exert himself in the
more difficult parts of his work, as the people of old to
Ezra the priest, when they saw him bowed down under
the burden of a difficult affair, Ezra x. 4. "Arise, for
this matter belongeth to thee : we also will be with thee :
be of good courage, and do it." They spare no pains
nor cost to make their pastor's outward circumstances
easy and comfortable, and free from pinching necessities
and distracting cares, and to put him under tlie best ad
vantages to follow his great work fully and successfully.
Such a pastor and people, as it is between a couple
happily united in a conjugal relation, have a mutual
sympathy with each otherj a fellow-feeling of each other's
burdens and calamities, and a communion in each other's
prosperity and joy. When the people suffer in their spiri
tual interests, the pastor suffers : he is afflicted when he
sees their souls in trouble and darkness ; he feels their
wounds ; and he looks on their prosperity and comfort as
his own. 2 Cor. xi. 29. "Who is weak, and I am not
weak? who is offended, and I burn not?" 2 Cor. vii. 13.
"We were comforted in your comfort." And, on the other
hand, the people feel their pastor's burdens, and rejoice in
his prosperity and consolations ; see Phil. iv. 14. and
2 Cor. ii. 3.
(3.) This union is like that which is between a young
man and a virgin in its fruits.
One fruit of it is mutual benefit: they become meet
helps one for another. The people receive great benefit
by the minister, as he is their teacher to communicate

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

spiritual instructions and counsels to them, and is set to
watch over them to defend them from those enemies and
calamities they are liable to; and so is, under Christ, tope
both their guide and guard, as the husband is of the wife.
And as the husband provides the wife with food and
clothing ; so the pastor, as Christ's steward, makes provi
sion for his people, and brings forth out of his treasure
things new and old, gives every one his portion of meat in
due season, and is made the instrument of spiritually cloth
ing and adorning their souls. And, on the other hand, the
minister receives benefit from the people, as they minister
greatly to his spiritual good by that holy converse to which
their union to him as his flock leads them. The conjugal
relation leads the persons united therein to the most inti
mate acquaintance arid conversation with each other ; so
the union there is between a faithful pastor and a christian
people, leads them to intimate conversation about things of
a spiritual nature. It leads the people most freely and
fully to open the case of their souls to the pastor, and leads
him to deal most freely, closely, and thoroughly with them
in things pertaining thereto. And this conversation not
only tends to their benefit, but also greatly to his. And
the pastor receives benefit from the people outwardly, as
they take care of and order his outward accommodations
for his support and comfort, and do as it were spread and
serve his table for him.
Another fruit of this union, wherein it resembles the con
jugal, is a spiritual offspring. There is wont to arise from
the union of such a pastor and people a spiritual race of
children. These new-born children of God are in the
Scripture represented both as the children of ministers, as
those who have begotten them through the gospel, and also
as the children of the church, who is represented as their
mother that hath brought them forth, and at whose breasts
they are nourished ; as in Isa. liv. 1 . and lxvi. 11. Gal. iv.
26. 1 Pet. ii. 2. and many other places.
Having thus briefly shown how the uniting of faithful
ministers with Christ's people in the ministerial office,
when done in a due manner, is like a young man marrying
a virgin, I proceed now to the
II. Prop. viz. That this union of ministers with the
people of Christ, is in order to their being brought to the
blessedness of a more glorious union, in which Christ shall
rejoice over them as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride.
1. The saints are, and shall be, the subjects of this bless
edness. Of all the various kinds of union of sensible and
temporal things that are used in Scripture to represent the
relation there is between Christ and his church ; that which
is between bridegroom and bride, or husband and wife, is
much the most frequently made use of both in the Old
and New Testament. The Holy Ghost seems to take a
peculiar delight in this, as a similitude fit to represent the
strict, intimate, and blessed union that is between Christ
and his saints. The apostle intimates, that one end why
God appointed marriage, and established so near a relation
as that between husband and wife, was, that it might be a
type of the union that is between Christ and his church ;
in Eph. v. 30, 31, 32. " For we are members of bis body,
of his flesh, and of his bones. For this cause shall a man
leave his father and mother, and shall be joined to his
wife ; and they two shall be one flesh." — For this cause,
i. e. hecause we are members of Christ's body, of his flesh,
and of his bones, God appointed that man arid wife should
be so joined together as to be one flesh, to represent this
high and blessed union between Christ and his church.
The apostle explains himself in the next words, " This is a
great mystery, but I speak concerning Christ and the
church." This institution of marriage, making the man
and his wife one flesh, is a great mystery ; i. e. there is a
great and glorious mystery hid in the design of it : and the
apostle tells us what that glorious mystery is, " I speak
concerning Christ and the church ;" as much as to say,
the mystery I speak of, is that blessed union that is be
tween Christ and his church, which I spoke of before.
This is a blessed union indeed ; of which that between
a faithful minister and a christian people is but a shadow.
Ministers are not the proper husbands of the church,
though their union to God s people, as Christ's ambassa
dors, in several respects resembles the conjugal relation :
but Christ is the true husband of the church, to whom

Serm. II.

THE CHURCH'S MARRIAGE, &c.

21

the Souls of the saints are espoused indeed, and to whom
they are united as his flesh and his bones, yea and one
spirit ; to whom they have given themselves in an everlast
ing covenant, and whom alone they cleave to, love, honour,
obey, and trust in, as their spiritual husband, whom alone
they reserve themselves for as chaste virgins, and whom
they follow whithersoever he goeth. There are many minis
ters in the church of Christ, and there may be several pas
tors of one particular church : but the church has but one
husband, all others are rejected and despised in comparison
of him ; he is among the sons as the apple-tree among the
trees of the wood ; they all are barren and worthless, he
only is the fruitful tree ; and therefore, leaving all others,
the church betakes herself to him alone, and sits under his
shadow with great delight, and his fruit is sweet to her taste ;
she takes up herfull and entire rest in him, desiringno other.
— The relation between a minister and people shall be dis-
solved,and may be dissolved before death ; but the union be
tween Christ and his church shall never be dissolved, neither
before death nor by death, but shall endure through all eter
nity : " The mountains shall depart, and the hills be re
moved; but Christ's conjugal love and kindness shall not
depart from his church ; neither shall the covenant of his
peace, the marriage-covenant, be removed," Isa. liv. 1. —
The union between a faithful minister and a christian
people is but a partial resemblance even of the marriage
union, it is like marriage only in some particulars : but
with respect to the union between Christ and his church,
marriage is but a partial resemblance, yea, a faint shadow.
Every thing desirable and excellent in the union between
an earthly bridegroom and bride, is to be found in the
union between Christ and his church ; and that in an in
finitely greater perfection and more glorious manner. —
There is infinitely more to be found in it than ever was
found between the happiest couple in a conjugal relation ;
or could be found if the bride and bridegroom had not only
the innocence of Adam and Eve, but the perfection of
angels. Christ and his saints, standing in such a relation as this
one to another, the saints must needs be unspeakably
happy. Their mutual joy in each other is answerable to
the nearness of their relation and strictness of their union.
Christ rejoices over the church as the bridegroom rejoices
over the bride, and she rejoices in him as the bride re
joices in the bridegroom. My text has respect to the
mutual joy that Christ and his church should have in each
other : for though the joy of Christ over his church only
is mentioned, yet it is evident that this is here spoken of
and promised as the great happiness of the church, and
therefore supposes her joy in him.
The mutual joy of Christ and his church is like that of
bridegroom and bride, in that they rejoice in each other, as
those whom they have chosen above others, for their near
est, most intimate, and everlasting friends and companions.
The church is Christ's chosen, Isa. xii. 9. " I have chosen
thee, and not cast thee away:" chap, xlviii. 10. " I have
chosen thee in the furnace of affliction." How often'are
God's saints called his elect or chosen ones ! He has
chosen them, not to be mere servants, but friends; John
xv. 15. " I call you not servants ; — but I have called you
friends." And though Christ be the Lord of glory, in
finitely above men and angels, yet he has chosen the elect
to be his companions; and has taken upon him their na
ture ; and so in some respect, as it were, levelled himself
with them, that he might be their brother and companion.
Christ, as well as David, calls the saints his brethren and
companions, Psalm cxxii. 8. " For my brethren and com
panions' sake I will now say, Peace be within thee." So
in the book of Canticles, he calls his church his sister and
spouse. Christ hath, loved and chosen his church as his
peculiar friend, above others ; Psalm cxxxv. 4. " The
Lord hath chosen Jacob unto himself, and Israel for his
peculiar treasure." As the bridegroom chooses the bride
for his peculiar friend, above all others in the world ; so
Christ has chosen his church for a peculiar nearness to him,
as his flesh and his bone, and the high honour and dignity
of espousals above all others, rather than the fallen angels,
yea, rather than the elect angels. For verily in this re
spect, " he taketh not hold of angels, but he taketh hold
ofthe seed of Abraham;" as the words are in the original,

Heb. ii. 16. He has chosen his church above the rest of
mankind, above all the heathen nations, and those that are
without the visible church, and above all other professing
Christians; Cant. vi. 9. "My dove, my undefiled is but
one ; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice
one of her that bare her." Thus Christ rejoices over his
church, as obtaining in her that which he has chosen above
all the rest of the creation, and as sweetly resting in his
choice; Psalm cxxxii. 13, 14. "The Lord hath chosen
Zion : he hath desired it. — This is my rest for ever."
On the other hand, the church chooses Christ above all
others : he is in her eyes the chief among ten thousands,
fairer than the sons of men : she rejects the suit of all his
rivals, for his sake : her heart relinquishes the whole
world : he is her pearl of great price, for which she parts with
all ; and rejoices in him, as the choice and rest ofher soul.
Christ and his church, like the bridegroom and bride,
rejoice in each other, as having a special propriety in each
other. All things are Christ's; but he has a special pro
priety in his church. There is nothing in heaven or earth,
among all the creatures, that is his, in that high and excel
lent manner that the church is his : they are often called
his portion and inheritance ; they are said, Rev. xiv. 4. to
be " the first-fruits to God and the Lamb." As of old, the
first fruit was that part of the harvest that belonged to God,
and was to be offered to him ; so the saints are the first-
fruits of God's creatures, being that part which is in a pe
culiar manner Christ's portion, above all the rest of the
creation, James i. 18. " Of his own will begat he us by the
word of truth, that we should be a kind of first-fruits of his
creatures." And Christ rejoices in his church, as in that
whjch is peculiarly his, Isa. lxv. 19. "I will rejoice in
Jerusalem, and joy in my people." The church has also a
peculiar propriety in Christ : though other things are hers,
yet nothing is hers in that manner that her spiritual bride
groom is hers. Great and glorious as he is, yet he, with all
his dignity and glory, is wholly given to her, to be fully
possessed and enjoyed by her, to the utmost degree that
she is capable of: therefore we have her so often saying in
the language of exultation and triumph, " My beloved is
mine, and I am his." Cant. ii. 16. and vi. 3. and vii. 10..
Christ and his church, like the bridegroom and bride*
rejoice in each other, as those that are the objects of each:
other's most tender and ardent love. The love of Christ
to his church is altogether unparalleled : the height and-
depth and length and breadth of it pass knowledge .
for he loved the church, and gave himself for it ; and his
love to her proved stronger than death. And on the other
hand, she loves him with a supreme affection ; nothing
stands in competition with him in her heart : she loves
him with all her heart. Her whole soul is offered up to
him in the flame of love. And Christ rejoices, and has
sweet rest and delight in his love to the church ; Zeph.
iii. 1 7. " The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty ;
he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy ; he will
rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing." So
the church, in the exercises of her love to- Christ, rejoices
with unspeakable joy; 1 Pet. i. 7, 8. "Jesus. Christ:
whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, though now
ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeak
able, and full of glory."
Christ and his church rejoice in each other's beauty.
The church rejoices in Christ's divine beauty and glory.
She, as it were, sweetlv solaces herself in the light of the
glory of the Sun of righteousness ; and the saints say one
to another, as in Isa. ii. 5. " O house of Jacob, come ye,
let us walk in the light of the Lord." The perfections, and
virtues of Christ are as a perfumed ointment to the church,
that make bis very name to be to her as ointment poured
forth ; Cant. i. 3. " Because of the savour of thy good
ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore
do the virgins love thee." And Christ delights and re
joices in the beauty of the church, the beauty which he
hath put upon her : her christian graces are ointments of
great price in his sight, 1 Pet. iii. 4. And he is spoken of
as greatly desiring her beauty, Psalm xiv. 1 1 . Yea, he
himself speaks of his heart as ravished with her beauty,
Cant. iv. 9. "Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my
spouse ; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine
eyes, with one chain of thy neck."

22

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

Christ and his church, as the bridegroom and bride,
rejoice in each other's love. Wine is spoken of, Psalm
civ. 15. as that which maketh glad man s heart : but the
church of Christ is spoken of as rejoicing in the love of
Christ, as that which is more pleasant and refreshing than
wine, Cant. i. 4. " The king hath brought me into his
chambers : we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will
remember thy love more than wine." So on the other
hand, Christ speaks of the church's love as far better to
him than wine, Cant. iv. 10. " How fair is thy love, my
sister, my spouse ! how much better is thy love than
wine !"
Christ and his church rejoice in communion with each
other, as in being united in their happiness, and having
fellowship and a joint participation in each other's good : as
the bridegroom and bride reioice together at the wedding-
feast, and as thenceforward they are joint partakers of each
other's comforts and joys : Rev. iii. 20. " If any man hear
my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and
sup with him, and he with me." The church has fellow
ship with Christ in his own happiness, and his divine en
tertainments ; his joy is fulfilled in her, John xv. 1 1 . and
xvii. 13. She sees light in his light ; and she is made to
drink at the river of his own pleasures, Psalm xxxvi. 8, 9.
And Christ brings her to eat and drink at his own table,
to take her fill of his own entertainments ; Cant. v. 1 .
" Eat, O friends, drink, yea, drink abundantly, O belov
ed." And he, on the other hand, has fellowship with her ;
he feasts with her ; her joys are his; and he rejoices in
that entertainment that she provides for him. So Christ
is said to feed among the lilies, Cant. ii. 16. and chap.
vii. 13. she speaks of all manner of pleasant fruits,
new and old, which she had laid up, and says to him,
chap. iv. 16. " Let my beloved come into his garden, and
eat his pleasant fruits ;" and he makes answer in the next
verse, " I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse ;
I have gathered my myrrh with my spice, I have eaten my
honey-comb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with
my milk."
And lastly, Christ and his church, as the bridegroom
and bride, rejoice in conversing with each other. The
words of Christ by which he converses with his church,
are most sweet to her; and therefore she says of him,
Cant. v. 16. " His mouth is most sweet." And on the
other hand, he says of her, chapter ii. 14. " Let me hear
thy voice : for sweet is thy voice." And chapter iv. 11.
" Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honey-comb : honey
and milk are under thy tongue."
Christ rejoices over his saints as the bridegroom over
the bride at all times : but there are some seasons wherein
he doth so more especially. Such a season is the time of
the soul's conversion ; when the good shepherd finds his
lost sheep, then he brings ii home rejoicing, and calls to
gether his friends and neighbours, saying, Rejoice with
me. The day of a sinner's conversion is the day of Christ's
espousals ; and so is eminently the day of his rejoicing ;
Sol. Song iii. 11. "Go forth, O ye daughters of 2ion, and
behold king Solomon with the crown wherewith his mother
crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the day
of the gladness of his heart." And it is oftentimes re
markably the day of the saints' rejoicing in Christ ; for
then God turns again the captivity of his elect people, and,
as it were, fills their mouth with laughter, and their tongue
with singing ; as in Psalm cxxvi. at the beginning. We
read of the jailer, that when he was converted, " he re
joiced, believing in God, with all his house," Acts xvi. 34.
— There are other seasons of special communion of the
saints with Christ, wherein Christ doth in a special man
ner rejoice over his saints, and as their bridegroom brings
them into his chambers, that they also may be glad and
rejoice in him, Cant. i. 4.
But this mutual rejoicing of Christ and his saints will
be in its perfection, at the time of the saints' glorification
with Christ in heaven ; for that is the proper time of the
saints' entering in with the bridegroom into the marriage,
Matt. xxv. 10. The saints' conversion is rather like the
betrothing of the intended bride to the bridegroom before
they come together ; but at the time ofthe saints' glorifi
cation that shall be fulfilled in Psalm xiv. 15. " With
gladness and rejoicing shall they be brought ; they shall

enter into the king's palace." That is the time when those
whom Christ loved, and for whom he gave hirnselt— -that
he might sanctify and cleanse them, as with the washing
of water by the word— shall be presented to ninl J? gwry,
not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing. Th™. me
church shall be brought to the full enjoyment of her bride
groom, having all tears wiped away from her eyes ; and
there shall be no more distance or absence. She shall
then be brought to the entertainments of an eternal wed
ding-feast, and to dwell for ever with her bridegroom;
yea, to dwell eternally in his embraces. Then Christ will
o-ive her his loves ; and she shall drink her fill, yea, she
shall swim in the ocean of his love.
And as there are various seasons wherein Christ and
particular saints do more especially rejoice in each other;
so there are also certain seasons wherein Christ doth more
especially rejoice over his church collectively taken. Such
a season is a time of remarkable outpouring of the Spirit
of God : it is a time of the espousals of many souls to
Christ; and so of the joy of espousals. It is a time
wherein Christ is wont more especially to visit his saints
with his loving-kindness, and to bring them near to him
self, and especially to refresh their hearts with divine com
munications : on which account, it becomes a time of
great joy to the church of Christ. So when the Spirit of
God was so wonderfully poured out on the city of Sama
ria, with the preaching of Philip, we read that " there was
great joy in that city,' Acts viii. 8. And the time of that
wonderful effusion of the Spirit at Jerusalem, begun at
the feast of Pentecost, was a time of holy feasting and re
joicing, and a kind of a wedding-day to the church of
Christ; wherein "they continuing daily, with one accord,
in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house,
did eat then- meat with gladness, and singleness of heart,"
Acts ii. 46.
But more especially is the time of that great outpouring
of the Spirit of God in the latter days, so often foretold in
the Scriptures, represented as the marriage of the Lamb,
and the rejoicing of Christ and his church in each other, as
the bridegroom and the bride. This is the time prophesied
of in our text and context; and foretold in Isa. lxv. 19." I
will rejoice in Jerusalem, and joy in my people; and the
voice of weeping shall no more be heard in her, nor the
voice of crying." This is the time spoken of Rev. xix. 6,
7, 8, 9. where the apostle John tells us, he " heard as it
were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of
many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, say
ing, Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. Let
us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him : for the
marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made
herself ready." And adds, " To her was granted, that she
should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white : for the
fine linen is the righteousness of saints. And he saith unto
me, Write, Blessed are they which are called unto the
marriage-supper ofthe Lamb."
But above all, the time of Christ's last coming, is that of
the consummation of the church's marriage with the Lamb,
and of the complete and most perfect joy of the wedding.
In that resurrection-morning, when the Sun of righteous
ness shall appear in our heavens, shining in all his bright
ness and glory, he will come forth as a bridegroom ; he
shall come in the glory of his Father, with all his holy
angels. And at that glorious appearing of the great God,
and our Saviour Jesus Christ, shall the whole elect church,
complete as to every individual member, and each mem
ber with the whole man, both body and soul, and both in
perfect glory, ascend up to meet the Lord in the air, to be
thenceforth for ever with the Lord. That will be indeed
a joyful meeting of this glorious bridegroom and bride.
Then the bridegroom will appear in all his glory without
any veil ; and then the saints shall shine forth as the sun
in the kingdom of their Father, and at the right hand of
their Redeemer ; and then the church will appear as the
bride, the Lamb's wife. It is the state of the church
after the resurrection, that is spoken of Rev. xxi. 2. " And
I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down
from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for
her husband." And ver. 9. " Come hither, I will show
thee the bride, the Lamb's wife." Then will come the
time, when Christ will sweetly invite his spouse to enter

Serm. II.

THE CHURCH'S MARRIAGE, &c.

23

in with him into the palace of his glory, which he had been
preparing for her from the foundation of the world, and
shall, as it were, take her by the hand, and lead her in with
him : and this glorious bridegroom and bride shall, with
all their shining ornaments, ascend up together into the
heaven of heavens ; the whole multitude of glorious angels
waiting upon them : and this son and daughter of God
shall, in their united glory and joy, present themselves to
gether before the Father ; when Christ shall say, " Here
am I, and the children which thou hast given me." And
they both shall in that relation and union, together receive
the Father's blessing ; and shall thenceforward rejoice to
gether, in consummate, uninterrupted, immutable, and
everlasting glory, in the love and embraces of each other,
and joint enjoyment of the love of the Father.
2. That forementioned union of faithful ministers with
the people of Christ, is in order to this blessedness.
1. It is only with reference to Christ, as the true bride
groom of his church, that there is any union between a
faithful minister and a christian people, that is like that of
a bridegroom and bride.
As I observed before, a faithful minister espouses a
christian people, not in his own name, but as Christ's am
bassador : he espouses them, that therein they may be
espoused to Christ. He loves her with a tender conjugal
affection, as she is the spouse of Christ, and as he, as the
minister of Christ, has his heart under the influence of the
Spirit of Christ ; as Abraham's faithful servant, that was
sent to fetch a wife for his master's son, was captivated
with Rebekah's beauty and virtue ; but not with reference
to an union with himself, but with his master Isaac. It
was for his sake he loved her, and it was for him that he
desired her. He set his heart upon her, that she might be
Isaac's wife ; and it was for this that he greatly rejoiced
over her, for this he wooed her, and for this he obtain
ed her, and she was for a season, in a sense, united to him ;
but it was as a fellow-traveller, that by him she might be
brought to Isaac in the land of Canaan. For this he adorn
ed her with ornaments of gold ; it was to prepare her for
Isaac's embraces. All that tender care which a faithful
minister takes of his people as a kind of spiritual husband
— to provide for them, to lead, and feed, and comfort them
— is not as to his own bride, but his master's.
And on the other hand, the people receive him, unite
themselves to him in covenant, honour him, subject them
selves to him, and obey him, only for Christ's sake, and as
one that represents him, and acts in his name towards
them. All this love, and honour, and submission, is
ultimately referred to Christ. Thus the apostle says, Gal.
iv. 14. " Ye received me as an angel, or messenger of
God, even as Christ Jesus." And the children that are
brought forth in consequence of the union of the pastor
and people, are not properly the minister's children,
but the children of Christ ; they are not born of man, but
of God.
2. The things that appertain to that fore-mentioned union
of a faithful minister and christian people, are the princi
pal appointed means of bringing the church to that bless
edness that has been spoken of. Abraham's servant, and
the part he acted as Isaac's agent towards Rebekah, were the
principal means of his being brought to enjoy the benefits
of her conjugal relation to Isaac. Ministers are sent to
woo the souls of men for Christ, 2 Cor. v. 20. " We are
then ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech
you by us : we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled
to God." We read in Matt. xxii. of a certain king, that
made a marriage for his son, and sent forth his servants to
invite and bring in the guests : these servants are ministers.
The labours of faithful ministers are the principal means
God is wont to make use of for the conversion of the chil
dren of the church, and so of their espousals unto Christ.
I have espoused you to one husband, says the apostle, 2
Cor. xi. 2. The preaching of the gospel by faithful minis
ters, is the principal means that God uses for exhibiting
Christ, his love and benefits to his elect people, and the
chief means of their being sanctified, and so fitted to enjoy
their spiritual bridegroom. Christ ioved the church, and
gave himself for it, that he might sanctify and cleanse it,
as by the washing of water by the word, {i. e. by the
.preaching of the gospel,) and so might present it to him

self, a glorious church. The labours of faithful ministers
are ordinarily the principal means of the joy of the saints
in Christ Jesus, in their fellowship with their spiritual
bridegroom in this world ; 2 Cor. i. 24. " We are helpers
of your joy." They are God's instruments for bringing up
the church, as it were, from her childhood, till she is fit for
her marriage with the Lord of glory ; as Mordecai brought
up Hadassah, or Esther, whereby she was fitted to be queen
in Ahasuerus's court. God purifies the church under
their hand, as Esther (to fit her for her marriage with the
king) was committed to the custody of Hegai the keeper
of the women, to be purified six months with oil of myrrh,
and six months with sweet odours. They are made the
instruments of clothing the church in her wedding-gar
ments, that fine linen, clean and white, and adorning her
for her husband ; as Abraham's servant adorned Rebekah
with golden ear-rings and bracelets. Faithful ministers are
made the instruments of leading the people of God in the
way to heaven, conducting them to the glorious presence
of the bridegroom, to the consummate joys of her marriage
with the Lamb ; as Abraham's servant conducted Rebekah
from Padan-aram to Canaan, and presented her to Isaac,
and delivered her into his embraces. For it is the office of
ministers, not only to espouse the church to her husband,
but to present her a chaste virgin to Christ.
I would now conclude this discourse with some exhorta
tions, agreeable to what has been said. And,
1. The exhortation may be to all that are called to the
work of the gospel-ministry.— Let us who are honoured
by the glorious bridegroom of the church, to be employed
as his ministers, to so high a purpose, as has been repre
sented, be engaged and induced by what has been observed,
to faithfulness in our great work ; that we may be and
act towards Christ's people that are committed to our care,
as those that are united to them in holy espousals, for
Christ's sake, and in order to their being brought to the
unspeakable blessedness of that more glorious union with
the Lamb of God, in which he shall rejoice over them, as
the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride. Let us see to it
that our hearts are united to them, as a young man to a
virgin that he marries, in the most ardent and tender affec
tion ; and that our regard to them be pure and uncorrupt,
that it may be a regard to them, and not to what they have,
or any worldly advantages we hope to gain of them. And
let us behave ourselves as those that are devoted to their
good ; being willing to spend and be spent for them ;
joyfully undertaking and enduring the labour and self-
denial that is requisite in order to a thorough fulfilling the
ministry that we have received. Let us continually and
earnestly endeavour to promote the prosperity and salva
tion of the souls committed to our care, looking on their
calamities and their prosperity as our own ; feeling their
spiritual wounds and griefs, and refreshed with their con
solations; and spending our whole lives in diligent care
and endeavour to provide for, nourish, and instruct our
people, as the intended spouse of Christ, yet in her mi
nority, that we may form her mind and behaviour, ind
bring her up for him, and that we may cleanse her, as
with the washing of water by the word, and purify her as
with sweet odours, and clothed in such raiment as may
become Christ's bride. Let us aim that when the ap
pointed wedding-day comes, we may have done our work
as Christ's messengers ; and may then be ready to present
Christ's spouse to him, a chaste virgin, properly educated
and formed, and suitably adorned for her marriage with the
Lamb ; that he may then present her to himself, a glorious
church, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, and
may receive her into his eternal embraces, in perfect purity,
beauty, and glory.
, Here I would mention three or four things tending to
excite us to this fidelity.
1 . We ought to consider how much Christ has done to
obtain that joy, wherein he rejoices over his church, as the
bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride.
The creation of the world seems to have been especially
for this end, that the eternal Son of God might obtain a
spouse towards whom he might fully exercise the infinite
benevolence of his nature, and to whom he might, as it
were, open and- pour forth all that immense fountain of

24

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

condescension, love, and grace that was in his heart, and
that in this way God might be glorified. Doubtless the
work of creation is subordinate to the work of redemption :
the creation of the new heavens and new earth, is repre
sented as so much more excellent than the old, that, in
comparison, it is not worthy to be mentioned, or come
into mind.
Christ has done greater things than to create the world,
in order to obtain his bride and the joy of his espousals
with her : for he became man for this end ; which was a
greater thing than his creating the world. For the Creator
to make the creature was a great thing ; but for him to
become a creature was a greater thing. And he did a much
greater thing still to obtain this joy ; in that for this he
laid down his life, and suffered even the death of the cross :
for this he poured out his soul unto death ; and he that is
the Lord of the universe, God over all, blessed for ever
more, offered up himself a sacrifice, in both body and soul,
in the flames of divine wrath. Christ obtains his elect
spouse by conquest : for she was a captive in the hands of
dreadful enemies ; and her Redeemer came into the world
to conquer these enemies, and rescue her out of their
hands, that she might be his bride. And he came and
encountered these enemies in the greatest battle that ever
was beheld by men or angels : he fought with principali
ties and powers ; he fought alone with the powers of dark
ness, and all the armies of hell ; yea, he conflicted with
the infinitely more dreadful wrath of God, and overcame
in this great battle ; and thus he obtained his spouse. Let
us consider at how great a price Christ purchased this
spouse : he did not redeem her with corruptible things, as
silver and gold, but with his own precious blood ; yea, he
gave himself for her. When he offered up himself to God
in those extreme labours and sufferings, this was the joy
that was set before him, that made him cheerfully to en
dure the cross, and despise the pain and shame in com
parison of this joy ; even that rejoicing over his church,
as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride that the Father
had promised him, and that he expected when he should
present her to himself in perfect beauty and blessedness.
The prospect of this was what supported him in the
midst of the dismal prospect of his sufferings, at which his
soul was troubled; John xii. 27. " Now is my soul
troubled ; and what shall I say ? Father, save me from
this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour."
These words show the conflict and distress of Christ's
holy soul in the view of his approaching sufferings. But
in the midst of his trouble, he was refreshed with the joy
ful prospect of the success of those sufferings, in bringing
home his elect church to himself, signified by a voice from
heaven, and promised by the Father : on which he says,
in the language of triumph, ver. 31, 32. " Now is the
judgment of this world : now shall the prince of this world
be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men
unto me."
And ministers of the gospel are appointed to be the
instruments of bringing this to pass; the instruments of
bringing home his elect spouse to him, and her becoming
his bride ; and the instruments of her sanctifving and
cleansing by the word, that she might be meet to be pre
sented to him on the future glorious wedding-day. How
great a motive then is here to induce us who are called to
be these instruments, to be faithful in our work, and most
willingly labour and suffer, that Christ mav see of the
travail of his soul and be satisfied ! Shall Christ do such
great things, and go through such great labours and suffer
ings to obtain this joy, and then honour us sinful worms,
so as to employ us as his ministers and instruments to bring
this joy to pass ; and shall we be loth to labour, and back
ward to deny ourselves for this end ?
2. Let us consider how much the manner in which
Christ employs us in this great business has to engage us
to a faithful performance of it. We are sent forth as his
servants ; but it is as highly dignified servants, as stewards
of his household, as Abraham's servant; and as his am
bassadors, to stand in his stead, and in his name, and
represent his person in so great an affair as that of his
espousals with the eternally beloved of his soul. Christ
employs us not as mere servants, but as friends of the
bridegroom; agreeable to the style in which John the

Baptist speaks of himself, John iii. 29. ; in which he pro
bably alludes to an ancient custom among the Jews at
their nuptial solemnities, at which one of the guests that
was most honoured and next in dignity to the bridegroom,
was styled the friend ofthe bridegroom.
There is not an angel in heaven, of how high an order
soever, but what looks on himself honoured by the Son of
God and Lord of glory, in being employed by him as his
minister in the high affair of his espousals with his blessed
bride. But such honour has Christ put upon us, that his
spouse should in some sort be ours ; that we should
marry, as a young man marries a virgin, the same mystical
person that he himself will rejoice over as the bridegroom
rejoiceth over the bride ; that we should be his ministers
to treat and transact for him with his dear spouse, that he
might obtain this joy : and, in our treaty with her, to be
married to her in his name, and sustain an image of his
own endearing relation to her ; and that she should receive
us, in some sort, as himself, and her heart be united to
us in esteem, honour, and affection, as those that represent
him ; and that Christ's and the church's children should
be ours, and that the fruit of the travail of Christ's soul
should be also the fruit of the travail of our souls ; as the
apostle speaks of liimself as travailing in birth with his
hearers, Gal. iv. 19. The reason why Christ puts such
honour on faithful ministers, even above the angels them
selves, is because they are of his beloved church, they are
select members of his dear spouse, and Christ esteems
nothing too much, no honour too great, for her. Therefore
Jesus Christ, the King of angels and men, does as it were
cause it to be proclaimed concerning faithful ministers, as
Ahasuerus did concerning him that brought up Esther, his
beloved queen ; " Thus shall it be done to the man that
the king delights to honour."
And seeing Christ hath so honoured us, that our relation
to his people resembles his, surely our affection to them
should imitate his, in seeking their salvation, spiritual
peace, and happiness. Our tender care, labours, self-denial,
and readiness to suffer for their happiness, should imitate
what hath appeared in him, who hath purchased them
with his own blood.
3. Let it be considered, that if we faithfully acquit our
selves in our office, in the manner that hath been repre
sented, we shall surely hereafter be partakers of the joy,
when the bridegroom and bride shall rejoice in each other
in perfect and eternal glory.
God once gave forth a particular command, with special
solemnity, that it should be written for the notice of all
professing Christians through all ages, that they are happy
and blessed indeed, who are called to the marriage-supper
of the Lamb ; Rev. xix. 9. " And he saith unto me, \\ nte,
blessed are they which are called unto the marriage-supper
of the Lamb. And he saith unto me, These are the true
sayings of God." But if we are faithful in our work, we
shall surely be the subjects of that blessedness ; we shall
be partakers of the joy of the bridegroom and bride, not
merely as friends and neighbours that are invited to be
occasional guests, but as members of the one and the
other. We shall be partakers with the church, the blessed
bride, in her joy in the bridegroom, not only as friends
and ministers to the church, but as members of principal
dignity ; as the eye, the ear, the hand, are principal mem
bers of the body. Faithful ministers in the church will
hereafter be a part of the church that shall receive dis
tinguished glory at the resurrection of the just, which,
above all other times, may be looked on as the church's
wedding-day; Dan. xii. 2, 3. " Many of them that sleep
in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting
life. And they that be wise shall shine as the brightness
of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteous
ness, as the stars for ever and ever." They are elders who
are represented as that part of the church triumphant that
sit next to the throne of God, Rev. iv. 4. " And round
about the throne were four-and-twenty seats : and upon
the seats I saw four-and-twenty elders" sitting, clothed in
white raiment; and they had on their heads crowns of
gold." And we shall also be partakers of the joy of the bride
groom in his rejoicing over his bride. We, as the special
friends of the bridegroom, shall stand bv, and hear him

Serm. II.

THE CHURCH'S MARRIAGE, &c.

express his joy on that day, and rejoice greatly because of
', the bridegroom's voice ; as John the Baptist said of him-
¦, self, John iii. 29. " He that hath the bride, is the bride
groom : but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth
and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bride
groom's voice." Christ, in reward for our faithful service,
in winning and espousing his bride to him, and bringing
her up from her minority, and adorning her for him, will
then call us to partake with him in the joy of his marriage.
And she that will then be his joy, shall also be our crown
of rejoicing ; 1 Thess. ii. 19. " What is our hope, or joy,
or crown of rejoicing ? Are not ye in the presence of our
Lord Jesus Christ at his coming?" What ajoyful meet
ing had Christ and his disciples together, when the dis
ciples returned to their Master, after the faithful and suc
cessful performance of their appointed service, when Christ
sent them forth to preach the gospel ; Luke x. 17. " And
the seventy returned with joy, saying, Lord, even the
devils are subject unto us through thy name." Here we
see how they rejoice : the next words show how Christ
also rejoiced on that occasion : " And he said unto them,
I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven." And in
the next verse but two, we are told, that " in that hour
Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank thee, O Father,
Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things
from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto
babes." So if we faithfully acquit ourselves, we shall
another day return to him with joy ; and we shall rejoice
with him and he with us. — Then will be the day when
Christ, who hath sown in tears and in blood, and we who
have reaped the fruits of his labours and sufferings, shall
rejoice together, agreeable to John iv. 35 — 37. And that
will be a happy meeting indeed, when Christ and his
lovely and blessed bride, and faithful ministers who have
been the instruments of wooing and winning her heart to
him, and adorning her for him, and presenting her to him,
shall all rejoice together.
4. Further to stir us up to faithfulness in the great busi
ness that is appointed us, in order to the mutual joy of this
bridegroom and bride, let us consider what reason we have
to hope that the time is approaching when this joy shall be
to a glorious degree fulfilled on earth, far beyond what
ever yet has been ; I mean the time of the church's latter-
day glory. This is what the words of our text have a more
direct respect to ; and this is what is prophesied of in Hos.
ii. 19, 20. " And I will betroth thee unto me for ever, yea,
I will betroth thee unto me in righteousness, and in judg
ment, and in loving-kindness, and in mercies. I will even
betroth thee unto me in faithfulness, and thou shalt know
the Lord." And this is what is especially intended by the
marriage of the Lamb, in Rev. xix.
We are sure this day will come : and we have many
reasons to think that it is approaching ; from the fulfilment
of almost every thing that the prophecies speak of as pre
ceding it, and their having been fulfilled now a long time ;
and from the general earnest expectations of the church of
God, and the best of her ministers and members, and the
late extraordinary things that have appeared in the church
of God, and appertaining to the state of religion, and the
present aspects of divine Providence, which the time will
not allow me largely to insist upon.
As the happiness of that day will have a great resem
blance ofthe glory and joy of the eternal wedding-day of
the church after the resurrection of the just ; so will the
privileges of faithful ministers at that time much resemble
those they shall enjoy with the bridegroom and bride, as to
honour and happiness, in eternal glory. This is the time
especially intended in the text, wherein it is said, " as a
young man marrieth a virgin, so shall thy sons marry thee."
And it is after in the prophecies spoken of as a great part
of the glory of that time, that then the church should be so
well supplied with faithful ministers. So in the next verse
to the text, " I have set watchmen on thy walls, O Jerusa
lem, that shall never hold their peace, day nor night." So,
Isa. xxx. 20, 21. " Thy teachers shall not be removed into
a corner any more, but thine eyes shall see thy teachers :
and thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This
is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand,
and when ye turn to the left." Jer. iii. 15. " And I will
give you pastors according to mine heart, which shall feed

you with knowledge and understanding.'' And chap.
xxiii. 4. " And I will set up shepherds over them, which
shall feed them." And the great privilege and joy of
faithful ministers at that day is foretold in Isa. Iii. 8. " Thy
watchmen shall lift up the voice, with the voice together
shall they sing : for they shall see eye to eye, when the
Lord shall bring again Zion."
And as that day must needs be approaching, and we
ourselves have lately seen some things which we have
reason to hope are forerunners of it ; certainly it should
strongly excite us to endeavour to be such pastors as God
has promised to bless his church with at that time ; that if
any of us should live to see the dawning of that glorious
day, we might share in the blessedness of it, and then be
called, as the friends of the bridegroom, to the marriage-
supper of the Lamb, and partake of that joy in which
heaven and earth, angels and saints, and Christ and his
church, shall be united at that time.
But here I would apply the exhortation in a few words
to that minister of Christ, who above all others is con
cerned in the solemnity of this day, who is now to be
united to and set over this people as their pastor.
You have now heard, Reverend Sir, the great import
ance and high ends of the office of an evangelical pastor,
and the glorious privileges of such as are faithful in this
office, imperfectly represented. May God grant that your
union with this people, this day, as their pastor, may be
such, that God's people here may have the great promise
God makes to his church in the text, now fulfilled unto
them. May you now, as one of the precious sons of
Zion, take this part of Christ's church by the hand, in the
name of your great Master the glorious bridegroom, with
a heart devoted unto him with true adoration and supreme
affection, and for his sake knit to this people, in a spiritual
and pure love, and as it were a conjugal tenderness ;
ardently desiring that great happiness for them, which you
have now heard Christ has chosen his church unto, and
has shed his blood to obtain for her ; being yourself
ready to spend and be spent for them ; remembering
the great errand on which Christ sends you to them, viz.
to woo and win their hearts, and espouse their- souls to
him, and to bring up his elect spouse, and to fit and
adorn her for his embraces ; that you may in due time
present her a chaste virgin to him, for him to rejoice over,
as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride. How honour
able is this business that Christ employs you in ! and
how joyfully should you perform it ! When Abraham's
faithful servant was sent to take a wife for his master's son,
how engaged was he in the business ; and how joyful was
he when he succeeded ! With what joy did he bow his
head and worship, and bless the Lord God of his master,
for his mercy and his truth in making his way prosperous !
And what a joyful meeting may we conclude he had with
Isaac, when he met him in the field, by the well of Laha-
roi, and there presented his beauteous Rebekah to him, and
told him all things that he had done ! But this was but a
shadow of that joy that you shall have, if you imitate his
fidelity, in the day when you shall meet your glorious
' Master, and present Christ's church in this place, as a
chaste and beautiful virgin unto him.
We trust, dear Sir, that you will esteem it a most
blessed employment,* to spend your time and skill in
adorning Christ's bride for her marriage with the Lamb,
and that it is work which you will do with delight ; and
that you will take heed that the ornaments you put upon
her are of the right sort, what shall be indeed beautiful
and precious in the eyes of the bridegroom, that she may
be all glorious within, and her clothing of wrought gold ;
that on the wedding-day she may stand on the king's right
hand in gold of Ophir.
The joyful day is coming, when the spouse of Christ
shall be led to. the King in raiment of needle-work ; and
angels and faithful ministers will be the servants that shall
lead her in. And you, Sir, if you are faithful in the
charge now to be committed to you, shall be joined with
glorious angels in that honourable and joyful service ; but
with this difference, that you shall have the higher privilege.
Angels and faithful ministers shall be together in bringing
in Christ's bride into his palace, and presenting her to him.
But faithful ministers shall have a much higher participa-.

26

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

tion of the joy of that occasion. They shall have a greater
and more immediate participation with the bride in her
joy ; for they shall not only be ministers to the church as the
angels are, but parts of the church, principal members of
the bride. And as such, at the same time that angels do
the part of ministering spirits to the bride, when they
conduct her to the bridegroom, they shall also do the part
of ministering spirits to faithful ministers. And they shall
also have a higher participation with the bridegroom than
the angels, in his rejoicing at that time ; for they shall be
nearer to him than thev. They are also his members, and
are honoured as the principal instruments of espousing the
saints to him, and fitting them for his enjoyment; and
therefore they will be more the crown of rejoicing of faithful
ministers, than of the angels of heaven.
So great, dear Sir, is the. honour and joy that is set
before you, to engage you to faithfulness in your pastoral
care of this people ; so glorious the prize that Christ has
set up to engage you to run the race that is set before you.
I would now conclude with a few words to the people
of this congregation, whose souls are now to be committed
to the care of that minister of Christ, whom they have
chosen as their pastor.
Let me take occasion, dear brethren, from what has
been said, to exhort you — not forgetting the respect,
honour, and reverence, that will ever be due from you to
your former pastor, who has served you so long in that
work, but by reason of age and growing infirmities, and
the prospect of his place being so happily supplied by a
successor, has seen meet to relinquish the burden of the
pastoral charge over you — to perform the duties that belong
to you, in your part of that relation and union now to be
established between you and your elect pastor. Receive
him as the messenger of the Lord of hosts, one that in his
office represents the glorious bridegroom of the church ;
love and honour him, and willingly submit yourselves to
him, as a virgin when married to a husband. Surely the
feet of that messenger should be beautiful, that comes to
you on such a blessed errand as that which you have
heard, to espouse you to the eternal Son of God, and to
fit you for and lead you to him as your bridegroom.
Your chosen pastor comes to you on this errand, and he
comes in the name of the bridegroom, so empowered by
him, and representing him, that in receiving him, you will
receive Christ, and in rejecting him, you will reject Christ.
Be exhorted to treat your pastor as the beautiful and
virtuous Rebekah treated Abraham's servant. She most
charitably and hospitably entertained him, provided lodg
ing and food for him and his company, and took care that

he should be comfortably entertained and supplied in all
respects, while he continued in his embassy ; and that was
the note or mark of distinction which God himself gave
him, by which he should know the true spouse of Isaac
from all others of the daughters of the city. Therefore in
this respect approve yourselves as the true spouse of Christ,
by giving kind entertainment to your minister that comes
to espouse you to the antetype of Isaac. Provide for his
outward subsistence and comfort, with the like cheerful
ness that Rebekah did for Abraham's servant. You have
an account of her alacrity and liberality in supplying
him, in Gen. xxiv. 18, &c. Say, as her lirother did, ver.
31. " Come in, thou blessed of tlie Lord."
Thus you should entertain your pastor. But this is not
that wherein your duty towards him chiefly lies : the
main thing is to comply with him in his great errand, and
to yield to the suit that he makes to you in the name of
Christ, to be his bride. In this you should be like
Rebekah : she was, from what she heard o Isaac, and
God's covenant with him, and blessing upon him, from
the mouth of Abraham's servant, willing for ever to forsake
her own country, and her father's house, to go into a
country she had never seen, to be Isaac's wife, whom also
she never saw. After she had heard what the servant had
to say, and her old friends had a mind she should put off
the affair for the present — but it was insisted on that she
should go immediately — and she was asked "whether she
would go with this man," she said, " I will go :" and she
left her kindred, and followed the man through all that
long journey, till he had brought her unto Isaac, and they
three had that joyful meeting in Canaan. If you will this
day receive your pastor in that union that is now to be
established between him and you, it will be a joyful day
in this place, and the joy will be like the joy of espousals,
as when a young man marries a virgin ; and it will not
only be a joyful day in East-Hampton, but it will doubt
less be a joyful day in heaven, on your account. And
your joy wili be a feint resemblance, and a forerunner of
that future joy, when Christ shall rejoice over you as the
bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, in heavenly glory.
And if your pastor be faithful in his office, and you
hearken and yield to him in that great errand on which
Christ sends him to you, the time will come, wherein you
and your pastor will be each other's crown of rejoicing,
and wherein Christ and he and you shall all meet together
at the glorious marriage of the Lamb, and shall rejoice in
and over one another, with perfect, uninterrupted, never
ending, and never fading joy.

SERMON III.*

TRUE SAINTS, WHEN ABSENT FROM THE BODY, ARE PRESENT WITH THE LORD.

2 Cor. v. 8.
We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent
from the body, and to be present with the Lord.
The apostle in this place is giving a reason why he
went on with so much boldness and immovable stedfast-
ness, through such labours, sufferings, and dangers of his
life, in the service of his Lord ; for which his enemies, the
false teachers among the Corinthians, sometimes reproach
ed him as being beside himself, and driven on by a kind
of madness  In the latter part of the preceding chapter,
the apostle informs the christian Corinthians, that the rea
son why he did thus, was, that he firmly believed the
promises that Christ had made to his faithful servants of a
glorious future eternal reward, and knew that these pre-
* Preached on the day of the funeral of the Rev. Mr. David Brainerd,
Missionary to the Indians, from the Honourable Society in Scotland for
the propagation of Christian Knowledge, and Pastor of a Church of Chris-

sent afflictions were light, and but for a moment, in com
parison of that far more exceeding and eternal weight of
glory. The same discourse is continued in this chapter ;
wherein the apostle further insists on the reason he had
given of his constancy in suffering, and exposing himself
to death m the work of the ministry, even the more happy
state he expected after death. And this is the subject of
my text ; wherein may be observed,
1. The great future privilege, which the apostle hoped
tor ; that of being present with Christ. The words in the
original properly signify dwelling with Christ, as in the
same country or city, or making a home with Christ.
2. When the apostle looked for this privilege, «i_. when
he should be absent from the body." He signifies the
same thing in his epistle to the Ph'ilippians, chap. i. 22,
23. But if I live m the flesh, this is the fruit of my la-
n^J^."^!,? ^eM"Jl?o_.y; wh0?«<1 *' Northampton in New-England;
following '" y6ar age' and w™ interrelt °" «>« 12th

Serm. III.

SAINTS ABSENT FROM THE BODY, &c.

27

bour. Yet what I shall choose, I wot not. For I am in
a strait between two ; having a desire to depart, and to be
with Christ."
3. The value the apostle set on this privilege. It was
such, that for the sake of it, he chose to be absent from the
body. He was willing rather, or (as the word properly
signifies) it were more pleasing to him, to part with the
present life, and all its enjoyments, for the sake of being
possessed of this great benefit.
4. The present benefit which the apostle had, by his
faith and hope of this future privilege, viz. that hence he
received courage, assurance, and constancy of mind :
agreeable to the proper import of the word that is render
ed, " we are confident." The apostle is now giving a
reason of that fortitude and immovable stability of mind
with which he went through those extreme labours, hard
ships, and dangers, which he mentions in this discourse ;
so that, in the midst of all he did not faint, was not dis
couraged, but had constant light, and inward support,
strength, and comfort in the midst of all : agreeable lo the
10th verse of the foregoing chapter, " For which cause,
we faint not ; but though our outward man perish, yet
the inward man is renewed dav by day." And the same
is expressed more particularly in the 8th, 9th, and 10th
verses of that chapter, " We are troubled on every side,
yet not distressed ; we are perplexed, but not in despair ;
persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroy
ed ; always bearing about in the body the dying of the
Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made
manifest in our mortal flesh." And in the next chap. ver.
4 — 10. " In all things approving ourselves as the minis
ters of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in necessities,
in distresses, in stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in
labours, in watchings, in fastings, by pureness, by know
ledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost,
by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of
God, by the armour of righteousness on the right hand
and on the left, by honour and dishonour, by evil report
and good report : as deceivers, and yet true ; as unknown,
and yet well known ; as dying, and behold, we live ; as
chastened, and not killed ; as sorrowful, yet alway rejoic
ing ; as poor, yet making many rich ; as having nothing,
and yet possessing all things."
Among the many useful observations that might be
raised from the text, I shall at this time only insist on that
which lies most plainlv before us in the words ; viz. — The
souls of true saints, when they leave their bodies at death,
go to be with Christ. — And they
Go to be with Christ, in the following respects :
I. They go to dwell in the same blessed abode with
the glorified human nature of Christ.
The human nature of Christ is yet in being. He still
continues, and will continue to ail eternity, to be both
God and man. His whole human nature remains : not
only his human soul, but also his human body. His
dead body rose from the dead ; and the same that was
raised from the dead, is exalted and glorified at God's
right hand ; that which was dead is now alive, and lives
for evermore.
And therefore there is a certain place, a particular part
of the external creation, to which Christ is gone, and
where he remains. And this place is that which we call
the highest heaven, or the heaven of heavens ; a place be
yond all the visible heavens. Eph. iv. 9, 10. " Now that
he ascended, what is it but that he also descended first
into the lower parts of the earth ? He that descended, is
the same also that ascended up far above all heavens."
This is the same which the apostle calls the third heaven,
2 Cor. xii. 2. reckoning the aerial heaven as the first, the
starry heaven as the second, and the highest heaven as the
third. This is the abode of the holy angels : they are
called " the angels of heaven," Matt. xxiv. 36. " The
angels which are in heaven," Mark xiii. 32. " The an
gels of God in heaven," Matt. xxii. 30. and Mark xii. 25.
They are said " always to behold the face of the Father
which is in heaven," Matt, xviii. 10. And they are else
where often represented as before the throne of God, or
surrounding his throne in heaven, and sent from thence,

and descending from thence on messages to this world.
And thither it is that the souls of departed saints are con
ducted when they die. They are not reserved in some
abode distinct from the highest heaven ; a place of rest,
which they are kept in, till the day of judgment ; such as
some imagine, which they call the hades of the happy; but
they go directly to heaven itself. This is the saint s home,
being their Father's house : they are pilgrims and stran
gers on the earth, and this is the other and better country
to which they are travelling, Heb. xi. 13 — 16. This is
the city they belong to ; Philip, iii. 20. " Our conversa
tion (or, as the word properly signifies, citizenship) is in
heaven." Therefore this undoubtedly is the place the
apostle has respect to in my text, when he says, " We are
willing to forsake our former house, the body, and to
dwell in the same house, city, or country, wherein Christ
dwells ;" which is the proper import of the original.
What can this house, or city, or country be, but that
house, which is elsewhere spoken of as their proper home,
and their Father's house, and the city and country to
which they properly belong, and whither they are travel
ling all the while they continue in this world, and the
house, city, and country where we know the human na
ture of Christ is? This is the saint's rest; here their
hearts are while they live ; and here their treasure is :
" The inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that
fadeth not away, that is designed for them, is reserved in
heaven ;" 1 Pet. i. 4. and therefore they never can have
their proper and full rest till they come here. So that un
doubtedly their souls, when absent from their bodies,
(when the Scriptures represent them as in a state of per
fect rest,) arrive hither. Those two saints, who left this
world without dying, viz. Enoch and Elijah, went to
heaven. Elijah was seen ascending up to heaven, as
Christ was. And to the same resting place, there is all
reason to think, those saints go, who leave this world by
death. Moses, when he died in the top of the mount,
ascended to the same glorious abode with Elias, who
ascended without dying. They are companions in another
world ; as they appeared together at Christ's transfigura
tion. They were together at that time with Christ in the
mount, when there was a specimen or sample of his glori
fication in heaven. And doubtless they were also toge
ther afterwards with him, when he was actually and fully
glorified in heaven. And thither undoubtedly it was, that
the soul of Stephen ascended, when he expired. The
circumstances of his death demonstrate it, Acts vii. 55,
&c. " He being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up sted
fastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus
standing on the right hand of God, and said, Behold, I
see the heavens opened, and the Son of man (i. e. Jesus
in his human nature) standing on the right hand of God.
Then they cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their
ears, and ran upon him with one accord, and cast bim out
of the city, and stoned him. — And they stoned Stephen,
calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my
spirit." Before his death he had an extraordinary view of
the glory that his Saviour had received in heaven, not only
for himself, but also for all his faithful followers ; that he
might be encouraged, by the hopes of this glory, cheerfully
to lay down his life for his sake. Accordingly he dies in
the hope of this, saying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
By which doubtless he meant, "receive my spirit to be
with thee, in that glory, wherein I have now seen thee, in
heaven, at the right-hand of God." And thither it was
that the soul of the penitent thief on the cross ascended.
Christ said to him, " To-day shalt thou be with me in
paradise." Paradise is the same with the third heaven ;
as appears by 2 Cor. xii. 2, 3, 4. There what is called the
third heaven in the second verse, is in the fourth verse
called paradise. The departed souls of the apostles and
prophets are in heaven ; as is manifest from Rev. xviii ,
20. " Rejoice over her, thou,heaven, and ye holy apostles
and prophets." The church of God is distinguished in
Scripture, from time to time, into these two parts ; that
part of it which is in heaven, and that which is in earth ;
Eph. iii. 14, 15. "Jesus Christ, of whom the whole
family in heaven and earth is named." Col. i. 20. " And
having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him
to reconcile all things to himself, by him, I say, whether

-28

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

they be things in earth or things in heaven." Now what
things in heaven are they for whom peace has been made
by the blood of Christ's cross, and who have by him been
reconciled to God, but the saints in heaven ? In like man
ner we read, Eph. i. 10- of " God's gathering together in
one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and
which are on earth, even in him." The spirits of just men
made perfect are in the same city of the living God, and
heavenly Jerusalem, with the innumerable company of
angels, and Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant ; as
is manifest by Heb. xii. 22—24. The church of God is
often in Scripture called Jerusalem ; and the apostle
speaks of the Jerusalem which is above, or which is in
heaven, as the mother of us all : but if no part of the
church be in heaven, or none but Enoch and Elias, it is
not likely that the church would be called the Jerusalem
which is in heaven.
II. The souls of true saints, when they leave their bod ies
at death, go to be with Christ, to dwell in the immediate,
full, and constant view of him.
When we are absent from our dear friends, they are out
of sight ; but when we are with them, we have the oppor
tunity and satisfaction of seeing them. So while the saints
are in the body, and are absent from the Lord, he is in
several respects out of sight, 1 Pet. i. 8. " Whom having
not seen, ye love : in whom, though now ye see him not,
yet believing," &c. They have indeed, in this world, a
spiritual sight of Christ ; but they see through a glass
darkly, and with great interruption : but in heaven, they
see him face to face, 1 Cor. xiii. 12. "The pure in heart
are blessed ; for they shall see God," Matt. v. 8. Their
beatific vision of God is in Christ, who is that brightness
or effulgence of God's glory, by which his glory shines
forth in heaven, to the view of saints and angels there, as
well as here on earth. This is the Sun of righteousness,
that is not only the light of this world, but is also the sun
that enlightens the heavenly Jerusalem ; by whose bright
beams it is that the glory of God shines forth there, to the
enlightening and making happy all the glorious inhabitants.
" The Lamb is the light thereof; and so the glory of God
doth lighten it," Rev. xxi. 23. None sees God the Father
immediately, who is the King eternal, immortal, invisible :
Christ is the image of that invisible God, by which he is
seen by all elect creatures. The only-begotten Son that is
in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him, and
manifested him. None has ever immediately seen the
Father but the Son ; and none else sees the Father any
other way, than by the Son's revealing him. And in
heaven, the spirits of just men made perfect behold his
glory. They see the glory of his divine nature, consisting
in all the glory of the Godhead, the beauty of all his per
fections ; his great majesty, almighty power, his infinite
wisdom, holiness, and grace, and they see the beauty of
his glorified human nature, and the glory which the Father
hath given him, as God-man and Mediator. For this end,
Christ desired that his saints might " be with him, that they
might behold his glory," John xvii. 24. And when the
souls of the saints leave their bodies, to go to be with
Christ, they behold the marvellous glory of that great work
of redemption, and of the glorious way of salvation by
him ; which the angels desire to look into. They have a
most clear view of the unfathomable depths of the manifold
wisdom and knowledge of God ; and the most bright dis
plays ofthe infinite purity and holiness of God which ap
pear in that way ana work : and see in another manner
than the saints do here, what is the breadth and length,
and depth and height, of the grace and love of Christ, ap
pearing in his redemption. And as they see the unspeak
able riches and glory of the attribute of God's grace, so
they most clearly behold and understand Christ's eternal
and unmeasurable dying love to them in particular. And
in short, they see every thing in Christ that tends to kindle,
enflame, and gratify "love, and every thing that lends to
satisfy them : and that in the most clear and glorious man
ner, without any darkness or delusion, without any im
pediment or interruption. Now the saints, while in the
body, see something of Christ's glory and love ; as, in the
dawning ofthe morning, we see something ofthe reflected
* Seep. 62. .

light of the sun mingled with darkness : but when sepa
rated from the body, they see their glorious and loving
Redeemer, as we see the sun when risen, and showing his
whole disk above the horizon, by his direct beams, in a
clear hemisphere, and with perfect day.
III. The souls of true saints, when absent from the
body, go to be with Jesus Christ, as they are brought into
a most perfect conformity to, and union with him. Their
spiritual conformity is begun while they are in the body.
Here beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, they are
changed into the same image ; but when they come to see
him as he is, in heaven, then they become like him in
another manner. That perfect sight will abolish all re
mains of deformity, disagreement, and sinful unlikeness;
as all darkness is abolished before the full blaze ofthe sun's
meridian light. As it is impossible that the least degree of
obscurity should remain before such light; so it is impos
sible the least degree of sin and spiritual deformity should
remain with such a view of the spiritual beauty and glory
of Christ, as the saints enjoy in heaven, when they see that
Sun of righteousness without a cloud. They themselves
shall not only shine forth as the sun, but shall be as little
suns, without a spot. For then is come the time when Christ
presents his saints to himself, in glorious beauty ; " not
having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing;" and having
holiness without a blemish.
Then the saints' union with Christ is perfected. This
also is begun in this world. The relative union is both
begun and perfected at once, when the soul first being
quickened by him closes with Christ by faith- The real
union, consisting in the vital union and that of hearts and
affections, is begun in this world and perfected in the next.
The union of the heart of a believer to Christ is begun
when it is drawn to him by the first discovery of divine
excellency, at conversion ; and consequent on this drawing
and closing of his heart with Christ, is established a mu
tual vital union with Christ ; whereby the believer becomes
a living branch of the true vine, living by a communication
ofthe sap and vital juice of the stock and root; and a
member of Christ's mystical body, living by a communi
cation of spiritual and vital influences from the head, and
by a kind of participation of Christ's own life. But while
the saints are in the body, there is much remaining dis
tance between Christ and them. There are remainders of
alienation, and the vital union is very imperfect, and so
consequently are the communications of spiritual life and
vital influences. There is much between Christ and be
lievers to keep them asunder, much indwelling sin, much
temptation, a heavy-moulded frail body, and a world of
carnal objects, to keep off the soul from Christ, and hinder
a perfect coalescence. But when the soul leaves the body,
all these clogs and hinderahces shall be removed, every
separating wall shall be broken down, and every impedi
ment taken out of the way, and all distance shall cease;
the heart shall be wholly and perfectly drawn, and most
firmly and for ever attached and bound to him, by a
perfect view of his glory. And the vital union shall then
be brought to perfection ; the soul shall live perfectly in
and upon Christ, being perfectly filled with his spirit, and
animated by his vital influences ; living as it were only by
Christ's life, without any remainder of spiritual death, or
carnal life.*
IV. Departed souls of saints are with Christ, as they
enjoy a glorious and immediate intercourse and converse
with him.
While we are present with our friends, we have oppor
tunity for that free and immediate conversation with them,
which we cannot have in absence from them. And there
fore, by reason of the vastly more free, perfect, and im
mediate intercourse with Christ, which the saints enjoy
when absent from the body, they are fitly represented as
present with him.
The most intimate intercourse becomes that relation
which the saints stand in to Jesus Christ; and especially
becomes that most perfect and glorious union they shall be
brought into with him in heaven. They are not merely
Christ's servants, but his friends, John xv. 1 5. His brethren
and companious ; Ps. cxxii. 8. yea, they are the spouse of

Serm. III.

SAINTS ABSENT FROM THE BODY, &c.

29

Christ. They are espoused or betrothed to Christ while
in the body ; but when they go to heaven, they enter into
the King's palace, their marriage with him is come, and
the King brings them into his chambers indeed. They
then go to dwell with Christ constantly, to enjoy the most
perfect converse with him. Christ conversed, in the most
friendly manner with his disciples on earth ; he admitted
one of them to lean on his bosom ; but they are admitted
much more fully and freely to converse with him in heaven.
Though Christ be there in a state of glorious exaltation,
reigning in the majesty and glory of the sovereign Lord
and God of heaven and earth, angels and men ; yet this
will not hinder intimacy and freedom of intercourse, but
rather promote it. For he is thus exalted, not only for
himself, but for them ; he is instated in this glory of head
over all things for their sakes, that they might be exalted
and glorified; and when they go to heaven where he is,
they are exalted and glorified with him ; and shall not be
kept at a more awful distance from Christ, but shall be
admitted nearer, and to a greater intimacy. For they shall
be unspeakably more fit for it, and Christ in more fit
circumstances to bestow on them this blessedness. Their
seeing the great glory of their friend and Redeemer, will
not awe them to a distance, and make them afraid of a
near approach ; but on the contrary, will most powerfully
draw them near, and encourage and engage them to holy
freedom. For thev will know that it is he that is their own
Redeemer, and beloved friend and bridegroom ; the very
same that loved them with a dying love, and redeemed
them to God by his blood ; Matt. xiv. 27. " It is I ; be
not afraid." Rev. i. 17, 18. "Fear not: — I am he that
liveth, and was dead." And the nature of this glory of
Christ which they shall behold, will be such as will draw
and encourage them ; for they will not only see infinite
majesty and greatness, but infinite grace, condescension,
mildness, gentleness, and sweetness, equal to his majesty.
For he appears in heaven, not only as " the Lion of the
tribe of Judah, but as the Lamb in the midst of the
throne," Rev. v. 5, 6. and he shall be their shepherd, to
" feed them, and lead them to living fountains of water,"
Rev. vii. 17. so that the sight of Christ's great kingly
majesty will be no terror to them ; but will only serve the
more to heighten their pleasure and surprise. When Mary
was about to embrace Christ, being full of joy at the sight
of him again alive after his crucifixion, Christ forbids her
to do it for the present ; because he was not yet ascended.
John xx. 16, 17. " Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turn
ed herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni, which is to say,
Master. Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not ; for I am not
yet ascended to my Father : but go to my brethren, and
say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father,
and to my God and your God." As if he had said,
" This is not the time and place for that freedom your
love to me desires : that is appointed for heaven, after my
ascension. I am going thither : and you, my true disciples,
shall, as my brethren and companions, soon be with me
in my glory. And then there shall be no restraint. That
is the place appointed for the most perfect expressions of
complacence and endearment, and full enjoyment of
mutual love." And accordingly the souls of departed
saints with Christ in heaven, shall have Christ as it were
unbosomed unto them, manifesting those infinite riches of
love towards them, that have been there from eternity :
and they shall be enabled to express their love to him, in
an incomparably better manner than ever they could while
in the body. Thus they shall eat and drink abundantly,
and swim in the ocean of love, and be eternally swallowed
up on the infinitely bright, and infinitely mild and sweet,
beams of divine love ; eternally receiving that light,
eternally full of it, and eternally compassed round with it,
and everlastingly reflecting it* back again to its foun
tain. V. The souls of the saints, when they leave their bodies
at death, go to be with Christ, as they are received to a
glorious fellowship with Christ in his blessedness.
As the wife is received to a joint possession of her hus
band's estate, and as the wife of a prince partakes with
him in his princely possessions and honours ; so the church,
the spouse of Christ, when the marriage comes, and she
is received to dwell with him in heaven, shall partake with

him in his glory. When Christ rose from the dead, and
took possession of eternal life ; this was not as a private
person, but as the public head of all his redeemed people.
He took possession of it for them, as well as for himself;
and they are " quickened together with him, and raised up
together." — And so when he ascended into heaven, and
was exalted to great glory there, this also was as a public
person : he took possession of heaven not only for himself,
but his people, as their forerunner and head, that they
might ascend also, " and sit together in heavenly places
with him," Eph. ii. 5, 6. " Christ writes upon them his
new name," Rev. iii. 1 2. i. e. he makes them partakers of
his own glory and exaltation in heaven. His new name is
that new honour and glory that the Father invested him
with, when he set him on his own right hand : as a prince,
when he advances any one to new dignity in his kingdom,
gives him a new title. Christ and his saints shall be glori
fied together, Rom. viii. 17.
The saints in heaven have communion, or a joint partici
pation, with Christ in his glory and blessedness in heaven,
in the following respects more especially.
1 . They partake with him in the ineffable delights he
has in heaven, in the enjoyment of his Father.
When Christ ascended into heaven, he was received to
a glorious and peculiar joy and blessedness in the enjoy
ment of his Father, who in his passion hid his face from
him ; such an enjoyment as became the relation he stood
in to the Father, and such as was a meet reward for the
great and hard service he had performed on earth. Then
" God showed him the path of life, and brought him into
his presence, where is fulness of joy, and to sit on his right
hand, where there are pleasures for evermore," as Ps. xvi.
11. " Then the Father made him most blessed for ever :
he made him exceeding glad with his countenance ;" as in
Ps. xxi. 6. The saints, by virtue of their union with
Christ, and being his members, do in some sort partake of
his child-like relation to the Father ; and so are heirs with
him of his happiness in the enjoyment of his Father ; as
seems to be intimated by the apostle, in Gal. iv. 4 — 7.
The spouse of Christ, by virtue of her espousals to that
only-begotten Son of God, is, as it were, a partaker of his
filial relation to God, and becomes the king's daughter,
Ps. xiv. 13. and so partakes with her divine husband in
his enjoyment of " his Father and her Father, his God and
her God." A promise of this seems to be implied in those
words of Christ to Mary, John xx. 17. Thus Christ's
faithful servants " enter into the joy of their Lord," Matt.
xxv. 21 — 23. and " Christ's joy remains in them ;" agree
able to those words of Christ, John xv. 11. Christ from
eternity is, as it were, in the bosom of the Father, as the
object of his infinite complacence. In him is the Father's
eternal happiness. Before the world was, he was with the
Father, in the enjoyment of his infinite love ; and had in
finite delight and blessedness in that enjoyment ; as he
declares of himself in Prov. viii. 30. " Then I was by
him, as one brought up with him : and I was daily
his delight, rejoicing always before him." And when
Christ ascended to the Father after his passion, he went
to him, to the enjoyment of the same glory and blessed
ness in the enjoyment of his love ; agreeable to his
prayer the evening before his crucifixion, John xvii. 5.
" And now, O Father, glorify me with thine own self, with
the glory I had with thee before the world was." And in
the same prayer, he manifests it to be his will, that his
true disciples should be with him in the enjoyment of that
joy and glory, which he then asked for himself; verse 13.
" That my joy might be fulfilled in themselves ;" verse
22. " And the glory which thou gavest me, I have given
them." This glory and joy of Christ, which the saints
are to enjoy with him, is that which he has in the enjoy
ment of the Father's infinite love to him ; as appears by
the last words of that prayer of our Lord, verse 26.
" That the love wherewith thou hast loved me, may be in
them, and I in them." The love which the Father has to
his Son is great indeed ; the Deity does, as it were, wholly
and entirely flow out in a stream of love to Christ ; and
the joy and pleasure of Christ is proportionably great. —
This is the stream of Christ's delights, the river of his in
finite pleasure ; which he will make his saints to drink of
with him ; agreeable to Psal. xxxvi. 8. 9. "They shall be

30

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house : thou
shalt make them drink of the river of thy pleasures. For
with thee is the fountain of life : in thy light shall we see
"ght." The saints shall have pleasure in partaking with
Christ in his pleasure, and shall see light in his light.
They shall partake with Christ of the same river of
pleasure, shall drink of the same water of life, and of the
same new wine in the Father's kingdom ; Matt. xxvi. 29.
That new wine is especially the joy and happiness that
Christ and his true disciples shall partake of together in
glory, which is the purchase of Christ's blood, or the re
ward of his obedience unto death. Christ, at his ascen
sion into heaven, received everlasting pleasures at his Fa
ther's right hand, and in the enjoyment of his love, as the
reward of his own death, or obedience unto death. But
the same righteousness is reckoned to both head and
members ; and both shall have fellowship in the same re
ward, each according to their distinct capacity.
That the saints in heaven have such a communion with
Christ in his joy, and do so partake with him in his own
enjoyment of the Father, greatly manifests the transcend
ent excellency of their happiness, and their being ad
mitted to a vastly higher privilege in glory than the an
gels. 2. The saints in heaven are received to a fellowship or
participation with Christ, in the glory of that dominion to
which the Father hath exalted him.
The saints, when they ascend to heaven, and are made
to sit together with Chnst in heavenly places, and are par
takers of the glory of his exaltation, are exalted to reign
with him. They are through him made kings and priests,
and reign with him, and in him, over the same kingdom.
As the Father hath appointed unto him a kingdom, so he
has appointed to them. The Father has appointed the
Son to reign over his own kingdom, and the Son appoints
his saints to reign in his. The Father has given to Christ
to sit with him on his throne, and Christ gives to the saints
to sit with him on his throne, agreeable to Christ's promise,
Rev. iii. 21. Christ, as God's Son, is the heir of his
kingdom, and the saints are joint-heirs with Christ ; which
implies, that they are heirs of the same inheritance, to
possess the same kingdom, in and with him, according to
their capacity. Christ in his kingdom reigns over heaven
and earth ; he is appointed the heir of all things ; and so
all things are the saints' ; " whether Paul, or Apollos, or
Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present,
or things to come," all are theirs; because they are
Christ's, and united to him, 1 Cor. iii. 21 — 23. The angels
are given to Christ as a part of his dominion ; they are all
given to wait upon him as ministering spirits to him : so also
they are all, even the highest and most dignified of them,
" ministering spirits, to minister to them who are the heirs
of salvation. They are Christ's angels, and they are also
their angels. Such is the saints' union with Christ, and
their interest in him, that what he possesses they possess,
in a much more perfect and blessed manner than if all
things were given to them separately, and by themselves,
to be disposed of according to their discretion. They are
now disposed of so as, in every respect, to be most for
their blessedness, by an infinitely better discretion than
their own ; and in being disposed of by their head and
husband, between whom and them there is the most
perfect union of hearts, and the most perfect union of
wills. As the glorified spouse of this great King reigns with
and in him, in his dominion over the universe, so more
especially does she partake with him in the joy and glory
of his reign in his kingdom of grace ; which is more pe
culiarly the kingdom that he possesses as head of the
church, and is that kingdom wherein she is more especial
ly interested. It was especially to reign in this kingdom,
that God the Father exalted him to his throne in heaven :
he set his King on his holy hill of Zion, especially that he
might reign over Zion, or over his church, in his kingdom
of grace; and that he might be under the best advantages
to carry on the designs of his love in this lower world.
And therefore undoubtedly the saints in heaven are par
takers with Christ in the joy and glory ofthe advancement
and prosperity of his kingdom of grace on earth, and suc
cess of his gospel here, which he looks on as the peculiar

glory of his reign. The good shepherd rejoices when he
finds but one sheep that was lost ; and his friends and
neighbours in heaven rejoice with him on that occasion.
That part of the family that is in heaven are surely not
unacquainted with the affairs of that part of the same
family that is on earth. They who are with the King, and
the royal family that dwell in his palace, are not kept in
ignorance of the affairs of his kingdom. The saints in
heaven are with the angels, the King's ministers, by which
he manages the affairs of his kingdom, and who are con
tinually ascending and descending from heaven to the
earth, and one or other of them daily employed as minis
tering spirits to each individual member of the church be
low- To this we may add, the continual ascending of the
souls of departed saints from all parts of the militant
church. On these accounts the saints in heaven must
needs be under a thousand times greater advantage than
we here, for a full view of the state of the church on earth,
and a speedy, direct, and certain acquaintance with all its
affairs in every part. And that which gives them much
greater advantage for such an acquaintance than the things
already mentioned, is their being constantly in the imme
diate presence of Christ, and in the enjoyment of the most
perfect intercourse with him, who is the King who manages
all these affairs, and has an absolutely perfect knowledge
of them. Christ is the head of the whole glorified assem
bly ; they are mystically his glorified body : and what the
head sees, it sees for the information of the whole body,
according to its capacity : and what the head enjoys, is for
the joy of the whole body. The saints, in leaving tbis
world, and ascending to heaven, do not go out of the sight
of things appertaining to Christ's kingdom on earth ; but,
on the contrary, they go out of a state of obscurity, and
ascend above the mists and clouds into the clearest "light ;
to a pinnacle, in the verycentre of light, where every thing
appears in clear view. They have as much greater advan
tage to view the state of Christ's kingdom, and the works
of the new creation here, than while they were in this
world, as a man that ascends to the top of a high moun
tain has greater advantage to view the face of the earth,
than he had while he was in a deep valley, or thick forest
below, surrounded on every side with those things that im
peded and limited his prospect. Nor do they view as in
different or unconcerned spectators, any more than Christ
himself is an unconcerned spectator. The happiness of
the saints in heaven consists very much in beholding
the glory of God appearing in the work of redemption :
for it is by this chiefly that God manifests his glory,
the glory of his wisdom, holiness, grace, and other per
fections, to both saints and angels ; as is apparent by
many scriptures. And therefore undoubtedly their happi
ness consists very much in beholding the progress of this
work in its application and success, and the steps by which
infinite power and wisdom brings it to its consummation.
And the saints in heaven are under unspeakably greater
advantage to take the pleasure of beholding the progress
of this work on earth than we are ; as they are under
greater advantages to see and understand the marvellous
steps which Divine Wisdom takes in all that is done, and
the glorious ends he obtains, the opposition Satan makes,
and how he is baffled and overthrown. They can better see
the connexion of one event with another, and the beauti
ful order of all things that come to pass in the church in
different ages that to us appear like confusion. Nor do
they only view these things, and rejoice in them, as a
glorious and beautiful sight, but as persons interested, as
Christ is interested ; as possessing these things in Christ,
and reigning with him, in this kingdom. Christ's success
in his work of redemption, in bringing home souls to him
self, applying his saving benefits by his Spirit, and the ad
vancement of the kingdom of grace in the world, is the
reward especially promised to him by his Father in the.
covenant of redemption, for the hard and difficult service
he performed while in the form of a servant ; as is mani
fest by Isa. liii. 10—12. But the saints shall be rewarded
with him. They shall partake with him in the jov of this
reward ; for this obedience that is thus rewarded is" reckon
ed to them as they are his members. This was espe
cially the joy that was set before Christ, for the sake of
which he endured the cross and despised the shame. And

Serm. III.

SAINTS ABSENT FROM THE BODY, &c.

31

his joy is the joy of all heaven. They that are with him
in heaven are under much the greatest advantages to par
take with him in this joy ; for they have a perfect com
munion with him through whom, and in fellowship with
whom, they enjoy and possess their whole inheritance, all
their heavenly nappiness ; as much as the whole body has
all its pleasure of music by the ear, and all the pleasure
of its food by the mouth and stomach, and all the benefit
and refreshment of the air by the lungs. The saints while
on earth pray and labour for the same thing that Christ
laboured for, viz. the advancement of the kingdom of God
among men, the prosperity of Zion, and the flourishing of
religion in this world. And most of them have been made
partakers with their Head in his sufferings, and " filled up
(as the apostle expresses it) that which is behind of the
sufferings of Christ." And therefore they shall par
take with him of the glory and joy of the end obtained ;
Rom. vii. 17. " We are joint-heirs with Christ; if so be
that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified to
gether." 2 Tim ii. 12. " If we suffer with him, we shall
also reign with him." Christ, when his sufferings were
past, and he left the earth and ascended into heaven, was
so far from having done with his kingdom in this world,
that it was as it were but then begun ; and he ascended
for that very end, that he might more fully possess and
enjoy this kingdom, that he might reign in it, and be under
the best advantages for it : in like manner, no more have
the saints done with Christ's kingdom on earth, when they
ascend into heaven. " Christ came (i. e. ascended) with
clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, and
was brought near before him, to the very end, that he
might receive dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that
all people, nations, and languages, should serve him,"
Dan. vii. 13, 14. This shall be eminently fulfilled after
the reign of Antichrist, which is especially the time of
Christ's kingdom. And the same is the time when " the
kingdom, and dominion, and greatness of the kingdom
under the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of
the saints of the most high God ;" as ver. 27. It is be
cause they shall reign in and with Christ, the Most High,
as seems intimated in the words that follow ; " whose
kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions
shall serve and obey him." This is true, not only of the
saints on earth, but also the saints in heaven. Hence the
saints in heaven, having respect to this time, sing, Rev. v.
10. " We shall reign on the earth." And agreeable hereto,
it is afterwards represented, that when the fore-mentioned
time comes, the souls of them who in former ages had
suffered with Christ do reign with him ; having as it were
given to them new life and joy, in that spiritual blessed
resurrection, which shall then be of the church of God on
earth ; and thus, Matt. v. 5. " The meek (those that meek
ly and patiently suffer with Christ, and for his sake) shall
inherit the earth :" they shall inherit it, and reign on earth
with Christ. Christ is the heir of the world ; and when
the appointed time of his kingdom comes, his inheritance
shall be given him, and then the meek, who are joint-heirs,
shall inherit the earth. The place in the Old Testament
whence the words are taken, leads to a true interpretation
of them ; Psalm xxxvii. 11. "The meek shall inherit the
earth, and shall delight themselves in the abundance of
peace." That there is reference in these latter words,
" the abundance of peace," to the peace and blessedness
of the latter days, we may be satisfied by comparing these
words with Psalm lxxii. 7. " In his days shall be abund
ance of peace, so long as the moon endureth ;" and Jer.
xxxiii. 6. " I will reveal to them the abundance of peace
and truth :" also Isa. ii. 4. Mic. iv. 3. Isa. xi. 6 — 9. and
many other parallel places. The saints in heaven will be
as much with Christ in reigning over the nations, and in
the glory of his dominion at that time, as they will be with
him in the honour of judging the world at the last day.
That promise of Christ to his disciples, Matt. xix. 28, 29.
seems to have a special respect to the former of these. In
ver. 28. Christ promises to the disciples, that hereafter,
" when the Son of man shall sit on the throne of his glory,
they shall sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes
of Israel." The saints in heaven reigning on earth in the
..glorious latter day, is described in language accommodated
to this promise of Christ, Rev. xx. 4. " And- 1 saw thrones,

and they that sat upon them ; and judgment was given
them. — And they reigned with Christ." And the promise,
Matt. xix. 29. seems to have its fulfilment at the same
time : " And every one that hath forsaken houses, or
brethren, or sisters, or fathers, or wife, or children, or lands,
for my name's sake, shall receive an hundred-fold, and shall
inherit everlasting life ;" i. e. in the time when the saints
shall inherit the earth, and reign on earth, the earth, with
all its blessings and good things, shall be given in great
abundance to the church, to be possessed by the saints.
This shall they receive in this present world, and in the
future everlasting life. The saints in heaven shall partake
with Christ in the triumph and glory of those victories
that he shall obtain in that future glorious time, over the
kings and nations of the world, represented by his ruling
them with a rod of iron, and dashing them in pieces as a
potter's vessel. To which doubtless there is a respect in
Rev. ii. 26, 27. " He that overcometh, and keepeth my
words unto the end, to him will I give power over the na
tions ; (and he shall rule Ihem with a rod of iron : as the
vessels of a potter shall they be broken to shivers ;) even as
I received of my Father. And Psalm cxlix. 5, to the
end ; " Let the saints be joyful in glory : let them sing
aloud upon their beds ; {i. e. in their separate state after
death ;) compare Isa. lvii. 1, 2. " Let the high praises of
God be in their mouth, and a two-edged sword in their
hand ; to execute vengeance upon the heathen, and punish
ments upon the people ; to bind their kings with chains,
and their nobles with fetters of iron, to execute upon them
the judgment written : this honour have all the saints."
Accordingly, when Christ appears riding forth to his victory
over Antichrist, Rev. xix. the hosts of heaven appear going
forth with him in robes of triumph, ver. 14. And when Anti
christ is destroyed, the inhabitants of heaven, and the holy
apostles and prophets, are called upon to rejoice, chap.
xviii. 20. And the whole multitude of the inhabitants of
heaven on that occasion, appear to exult, and praise God
with exceeding joy ; chap. xix. 1 — 8. and chap. xi. 15.
They are also represented as greatly rejoicing on occasion
of the ruin of the heathen empire, in the days of Constan
tine ; chap. xii. 10. And it is observable, all along in the
visions of that book, that the hosts of heaven appear as
much concerned and interested in the events appertaining
to the kingdom of Christ here below, as the saints on earth.
The day of the commencement of the church's latter-day
glory is eminently " the day of Christ's espousals ; the
day of the gladness of his heart, when as the bridegroom re
joiceth over the bride, so he will rejoice over his church."
And then will all heaven exceedingly rejoice with him.
Thus Rev. xix. 7. " Let us be glad, and rejoice, and give
glory to him ; for the marriage of the Lamb is come."
Thus Abraham enjoys these things, when they come to
pass, which were of old promised to him, and which he saw
before-hand, and rejoiced in. He will enjoy the fulfilment
of the promise of all the families of the earth being blessed
in his seed, when it shall be accomplished. And all the
ancient patriarchs, who died in faith of promises of glorious
things that should be accomplished in this world, " who
had not received 'the promises, but saw them afar off, and
were persuaded of them, and embraced them," actually
enjoy them when fulfilled. David actually saw and en
joyed the fulfilment of that promise, in its due time, which
was made to him many hundred years before, and was all
his salvation and all his desire. Thus Daniel shall stand
in his lot at the end of the days pointed out by his own
prophecy. Thus the saints of old that died in faith, not
having received the promise, are made perfect, and have
their faith crowned by the better things accomplished in
these latter days of the gospel, Heb. xi. 39, 40. which they
see and enjoy.
3. The departed souls of saints have fellowship with
Christ, in his blessed and eternal employment of glorifying
the Father.
The happiness of heaven consists not only in contempla
tion, and a mere passive enjoyment, but consists very much
in action. And particularly in actively serving and gloria
tying God. This is expressly mentioned as a great.part of
the blessedness of the saints in their most perfect state,
Rev. xxii. 3. " And there shall be no more curse ; but the
throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in' it ; and his ser-

32

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

vants shall serve him." The angels are as a flame of fire in
their ardour and activity in God's service : the four ani
mals, Rev. iv. (which are generally supposed to signify the
angels,) are represented as continually giving praise and
glory to tiod, and are said not to rest day nor night, ver. 8.
The souls of departed saints are doubtless become as the
angels of God in heaven in this respect. And Jesus
Christ is the head of the whole glorious assembly ; as in
other things appertaining to their blessed state, so in this of
their praising and glorifying the Father. When Christ,
the night before he was crucified, prayed for his exaltation
to glory, it was that he might glorify the Father ; John xvii.
1. '-These words spake Jesus, and lift up his eyes to
heaven, and said, Father, the hour is come, glorify thy Son,
that thy Son also may glorify thee." And this he doubt
less does, now he is in heaven ; not only in fulfilling the
Father's will, in what he does as Head of the church and
Ruler of the universe, but also in leading the heavenly
assembly in their praises. When Christ instituted the
Lord's supper, and eat and drank with his disciples at his
table, (giving them therein a representation and pledge of
their future feasting with him, and drinking new wine in
his heavenly Fathers kingdom,) he at that time led them
in their praises to God, in a hymn they sang. And so
doubtless he leads his glorified disciples in heaven. David
was the sweet psalmist of Israel, and led the great congre
gation of God's people in their songs of praise. Herein,
as well as in innumerable other things, he was a type of
Christ, who is often spoken of in Scripture by the name of
David. And many of the psalms that David penned, were
songs of praise, that he, by the spirit of prophecy, uttered
in the name of Christ, as head of the church, and leading
the saints in their praises. Christ in heaven leads the glo
rious assembly in their praises to God, as Moses did the
congregation of Israel at the Red sea : which is implied in
its being said, that " they sing the song of Moses and the
Lamb, Rev. xv. 2, 3. In Rev. xix. 5. John tells us,
that " he heard a voice come out of the throne, saying,
Praise our God, all ye his servants, and ye that fear him,
both small and great." Who can it be that utters this
voice out of the throne, but the Lamb that is in the midst
of the throne, calling on the glorious assembly of saints to
praise his Father and their Father, his God and their God ?
And what the consequence of this voice is, we have an ac
count in the next words : " And I heard as it were the
voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters,
and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia ;
for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth."

APPLICATION.
The use that I would make of what has been said on this
subject is of exhortation. Let us all be exhorted hence
earnestly to seek after this great privilege, that when " we
are absent from the body, we may be present with the
Lord." We cannot continue always in these earthly
tabernacles ; — they are very frail, will soon decay and fall,
and are continually liable to be overthrown by innumer
able means. Our souls must soon leave them, and go into
the eternal world. — O, how infinitely great will the privi
lege and happiness of such be, who at that time shall go to
be with Christ in his glory, in the manner that has been re
presented ! The privilege of the twelve disciples was great,
in being so constantly with Christ as his family, in his state
of humiliation. The privilege of those three disciples was
great, who were with him in the mount of his transfigura
tion ; where was exhibited to them some little semblance
of his future glory in heaven, such as they might behold in
the present frail, feeble, and sinful state. They were great
ly entertained and delighted with what they saw ; and
were for makiug tabernacles to dwell there, and return no
more down the mount. And great was the privilege of
Moses when he was with Christ in mount Sinai, and be
sought him to show him his glory, and he saw his back-
parts as he passed by, and proclaimed his name.— But how
infinitely greater the privilege of being with Christ in
heaven, where he sits on the right hand of God, as the
Kingand God of angels, and of the whole universe, shin
ing forth as the great light, the bright sun of that world of

glory ; there to dwell in the full, constant, and everlasting
view of his beauty and brightness ; there most freely and
intimately to converse with him, and fully to enjoy his
love, as his friends and spouse ; there to have fellowship
with him in the infinite pleasure and joy he has in the en
joyment of his Father 1 How transcendent the privilege,
there to sit with him on his throne, to reign with him in the
possession of all things, and to partake with him in the joy
and glory of his victory over his enemies, and the advance
ment of his kingdom in the world, and to join with him in
joyful songs of praise to his Father and their Father, to his
God and their God, for ever and ever ! Is not such a
privilege worth seeking after ?
But here, as a special enforcement of this exhortation, 1
would improve that dispensation of God's holy providence,
which is the sorrowful occasion of our coming together at
this time, viz. the death of that eminent servant of Jesus
Christ, in the work of the gospel-ministry, whose funeral
is this day to be attended ; together with what was observ
able in him, living and dying.
In this dispensation of providence, God puts us in mind
of our mortality, and forewarns us that the time is ap
proaching when we must be absent from the body, and
" must all appear (as the apostle observes in the context)
before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one of us
may receive the things done in the body, according to what
we have done, whether it be good or bad."
And in him, whose death we are now called to consider
and improve, we have not only an instance of mortality,
but an instance of one that, being absent from the body, is
present with the Lord ; as we have all imaginable reason
to conclude. And that, whether we consider the nature of
the operations he was under, about the time whence he
dates his conversion, or the nature and course of his in
ward exercises from that time forward, or his outward con
versation and practice in life, or his frame and behaviour
during the whole of that long season wherein he looked
death in the face.
His convictions of sin, preceding his first consolations in
Christ, (as appears by a written account he has left of his
inward exercises and experiences,) were exceeding deep and
thorough. His trouble and exercise of mind, through a
sense of guilt and misery, were very great and long-con
tinued, but yet sound and solid ; consisting in no unsteady,
violent, unaccountable hurries and frights, and strange per
turbations of mind ; but arising from the most serious con
sideration, and proper illumination of the conscience to
discern and consider the true state of things. And the light
let into his mind at conversion, and the influences and ex
ercises that his mind was subject to at that time, appear
very agreeable to reason and the gospel of Jesus Christ;
the change very great and remarkable, without any ap
pearance of strong impressions on the imagination, sudden
flights and pangs of the affections, and vehement emotions
in animal nature ; but attended with proper intellectual
views of the supreme glory of the Divine Being, consisting
in the infinite dignity and beauty of the perfections of his
nature, and of the transcendent excellency of the way of
salvation by Christ. — This was about eight years ago, when
he was twenty-one years of age.
Thus God sanctified, and made meet for his use, that
vessel which he intended to make of eminent honour in
his house, and which he had made of large capacity, having
endowed him with very uncommon abilities and gifts of
nature. He was a singular instance of a ready invention,
natural eloquence, easy flowing expression, sprightly ap
prehension, quick discernment, and very strong memory ;
and yet of a very penetrating genius, close and clear
thought, and piercing judgment. He had an exact taste.
His understanding was quick, strong, and distinguishing.
His learning was very considerable, for which he had a
great taste ; and he applied himself to his studies in so
close a manner when he was at college, that he much in
jured his health ; and was obliged on that account for a
while to leave his studies, and return home. He was
esteemed one that excelled in learning in that society.
He had an extraordinary knowledge of men, as well as
things ; had a great insight into human nature, and ex
celled most that ever I knew in a communicative faculty.
He had a peculiar talent at accommodating himself to the

Serm. III.

SAINTS ABSENT FROM THE BODY, &c.

33

capacities, tempers, and circumstances of those whom he
would instruct or counsel.
He had extraordinary gifts for the pulpit. I never had
an opportunity to hear him preach, but have often heard
him pray ; and I think his manner of addressing himself
to God, and expressing himself before him, in that duty,
almost inimitable ; such (so far as I may judge) as I have
very rarely known equalled. He expressed himself with
that exact propriety and pertinency, in such significant,
weighty, pungent expressions ; with that decent appear
ance of sincerity, reverence and solemnity, and great dis
tance from all affectation, as forgetting the presence of men,
and as being in the immediate presence of a great and
holy God, that I have scarcely ever known paralleled.
And his manner of preaching, by what I have often heard
of it from good judges, was no less excellent ; being clear
and instructive, natural, nervous, forcible, moving, and
very searching and convincing. — He rejected with disgust
an affected noisiness, and violent boisterousness in the
pulpit ; and yet much disrelished a flat, cold delivery,
when the subject of discourse, and matter delivered, re
quired affection and earnestness.
Not only had he excellent talents for the study and the
pulpit, but also for conversation. He was of a sociable
disposition : and was remarkably free, entertaining, and
profitable in his ordinary discourse : and had much of a
faculty of disputing, defending truth and confuting error.
Ashe excelled in his judgment and knowledge of things
in general, so especially in divinity. He was truly, for one
of his standing, an extraordinary divine. But above all,
in matters relating to experimental religion. In this, I
know I have the concurring opinion of some who have had
a name for persons of the best judgment. And according
to what ability I have to judge of things of this nature, and
according to my opportunities, which of late have been
very great, I never knew his equal, of his age and standing,
for clear, accurate notions of the nature and essence of
true religion, and its distinctions from its various false ap
pearances ; which I suppose to be owing to these three
things meeting together in him ; the strength of his natural
genius ; and the great opportunities he had of observing
others, in various parts, both white people and Indians ;
and his own great experience.
His experiences of the holy influences of God's Spirit
were not only great at his first conversion, but they were so
in a continued course, from that time forward : as appears
by a private journal which he kept of his daily inward ex
ercises, from the time of his conversion, until he was dis
abled by the failing of his strength, a few days before his
death. The change which he looked upon as his conver
sion was not merely a great change of the present views,
affections, and frame of his mind ; but also the beginning
of that work of God on his heart, which God carried on
from that time to his dying day.* He greatly abhorred
the way of such as live on their first work, as though they
had now got through their work, and who are thencefor
ward, by degrees, settled in a cold, lifeless, negligent, worldly
frame ; he nad an ill opinion of such persons' religion.
His experiences were very diverse from many things that
have lately obtained the reputation, with multitudes, of the
* 7"his more abundantly appears by further opportunity of acquaintance
with his Diary, since this sermon was delivered. Grace in him seems to
have been almost continually, with scarcely the intermission of a day, in
very sensible, and indeed vigorous and powerful, exercise, in one respect or
other. His heart appears to have been exercised, in a continued course, in
such things as these, viz. the most ardent and pure love to God ; great
weanedness from the world, and sense of its vanity ; great humiliation ; a
most abasing sense of his own vileness ; a deep sense of in-dwelling sin,
whicb indeed was most evidently by far the greatest burden of his life, and
more than all other afflictions that he met with put together ; great broken -
ness of heart before God, for his small attainments in grace, that he loved
God so little, _ c. mourning that he was so unprofitable ; longings and earn
est Teachings of soul after holiness ; earnest desires that God might be glo
rified, and that Christ's kingdom might be advanced in the world ; wrest
lings with God in prayer for these things ; delight in the gospel of Jesus
Christ, and the way of salvation by him ; sweet complacence in those whose
conversation savoured of true holiness : compassion to the souls of men, and
earnest intercessions in secret for them ; great resignation to the will of
God ,- a very frequent, most sensible renewed renunciation of all things for
Christ, and giving up himself wholly to God, in soul and body ; great dis
trust of his own heart, and universal dependence on God : longings after
fiill deliverance from the body of sin and death, and perfect conformity to
God, and perfectly glorifying him in heaven iclear views ofeternity, almost
as though he were actually out of the body, and had his eyes open in
another world ; a constant watchfulness over his own heart, and continual
earnestness in his inward warfare with sin ; together with great care, to the
utmost, to improve time for God, in his service, and to his glory
VOI. II. D

very height of christian experience. About the time that
the false religion, which arises chiefly from impressions on
the imagination, began first to make a verv great appear
ance in the land, he was for a little while deceived with it,
so as to think highly of it. And though he knew he never
had such experiences as others told of, he thought it was
because others' attainments were beyond his ; and so
coveted them, and sought after them, but could never ob
tain them. He told me, that he never had what is called
an impulse, or a strong impression on his imagination, in
things of religion, in his life. But owned, that during the
short time that he thought well of these things, he was
tinged with that spirit of false zeal that is wont to attend
them. But said that then he was not in his element, but
as a fish out of water. And when, after a little while, he
came clearly to see the vanity and perniciousness of such
things, it cost him abundance of sorrow and distress of
mind, and to my knowledge he afterwards freely and
openly confessed the errors in conduct that he had run
into, and laid himself low before them whom he had of
fended. And since his conviction of his error in those re
spects, he has ever had a peculiar abhorrence of that kind
of bitter zeal, and those delusive experiences that have been
the principal source of it. He detested enthusiasm in all
its forms and operations ; and abhorred whatever in
opinion or experience seemed to verge towards antinomi-
anism ; as, the experiences of those whose first faith con
sists in believing that Christ died for them in particular ;
and their first love, in loving God, because they supposed
they were the objects of his love ; and their assurance of
their good estate from some immediate testimony, or sug
gestion, either with or without texts of Scripture, that their
sins are forgiven, that God loves them, &c. and the joys of
such as rejoiced more in their own supposed distinction
from others, in honour, and privileges, and high experi
ences, than in God's excellency and Christ's beauty ; and
the spiritual pride of such laymen, that are for setting up
themselves as public teachers, and cry down human learn
ing, and a learned ministry. He greatly disliked a disposi
tion in persons to much noise and show in religion, and af
fecting to be abundant in publishing and proclaiming their
own experience ; though he did not condemn, but approv
ed of Christians speaking of their experiences, on some
occasions, and to some persons, with modesty, discretion,
and reserve. He abominated the spirit and practice of the
generality of the Separatists in this land. I heard him
say, once and again, that he had been much with this kind
of people, and was acquainted with many of them, in
various parts ; and that by this acquaintance, he knew
that what was chiefly and most generally in repute
amongst them, as the power of godliness, was entirely a
different thing from that vital piety recommended in the
Scripture, and had nothing in it of that nature. He never
was more full in condemning these things than in his last
illness, and after he ceased to have any expectation of life :
and particularly when he had the greatest and nearest
views of approaching eternity ; and several times, when
he thought himself actually dying, and expected in a few
minutes to be in the eternal world, as he himself told me.f
As his inward experiences appear to have been of the
t Since this Sermon was preached, I find what follows in his Diary for
tbe last summer.
" Thursday, June 18. I was this day taken exceeding ill, and brought to
the gates of death. — In this extreme weak state I continued for several
weeks ; and was frequently reduced so low as to be utterly speechless, and
not able so much as to whisper a word. And even after I had so far re
vived, as to walk about the bouse, and to step cut of doors, I was exer
cised every day with a faint turn, which continued usually four or five
hours. At which times, though I was not so utterly speechless, but that I
could say yes or no ; yet I could not converse at all, nor speak one sentence
without making stops for breath. Aud divers times, in this season, my
friends gathered round my bed, to see me breathe my last; which they
looked for every moment, as I myself also did.
" How I was the first day or two of my illness, with regard to the exer
cise of reason, I scarcely know ; but I believe I was something shattered,
with the violence of the fever, at times. But the third day of my illness,
and constantly afterwards, for four or five weeks together, I enjoyed as
much serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, as perhaps I ever did in
my life. And I think my mind never penetrated with so much ease and
freedom into divine things as at this time ; and I never felt so capable of
demonstrating the truth of many important doctrines of the gospel as now.
"And as I saw clearly the truth of those great doctrines, which are
justly styled the doctrines of grace ; so I saw with no less clearness, that
the essence of true religion consisted in the soul's conformity to God. and
acting above all selfish views, for his glory, longing to be for him, to' live
to him, and please and honour him in all things ; and that, from a clear
view of -his infinite excellency and worthiness in himself, to be beloved,

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

34
right kind, and were very remarkable as to their degree,
so was his outward behaviour and practice agreeable. He
in his whole course acted as one who had indeed sold all
for Christ, and had entirely devoted himself to God, and
made his glory his highest end, and was fully determined
to spend his whole time and strength in his service. He
was lively in religion, in the right way ; lively, not only,
nor chiefly, with his tongue, in professing and talking ;
but lively in the work and business of religion. He was
not one of those who are for contriving ways to shun the
cross, and get to heaven with ease and sloth ; but was such
an instance of one living a life of labour and self-denial,
and spending his strength and substance in pursuing that
gi'eat end, and the glory of his Redeemer, that perhaps is
scarcely to be paralleled in this age in these parts of the
world. Much of this may be perceived by any one that
reads his printed Journal ; but much more has been learn
ed by long intimate acquaintance with him, and by look
ing into his Diary since his death, which he purposely
concealed in what he published.
And as his desires and labours for the advancement of
Christ's kingdom were great, so was his success. God
was pleased to make him the instrument of bringing to
pass the most remarkable things among the poor savages —
in enlightening, awakening, reforming, and changing their
disposition and manners, and wonderfully transforming
them — that perhaps can be produced in these latter ages
of the world. An account of this has been given the
public in his Journals, drawn up by order of the Honour
able Society in Scotland, that employed him ; which I
would recommend to the perusal of all such as take
pleasure in the wonderful works of God's grace, and
would read that which will peculiarly tend both to enter
tain and profit a christian mind.*
No less extraordinary than the things already mentioned
of him in life, was his constant calmness, peace, assurance,
and joy in God, during the long time he looked death in
the face, without the least hope of recovery ; continuing
without interruption to the last ; while his distemper very
sensibly preyed upon his vitals, from day to day, and oft
brought him to that state in which he looked upon him
self, and was thought by others, to be dying. The thoughts
of approaching death never seemed in the least to damp,
but rather to encourage him, and exhilarate his mind. And
the nearer death approached, the more desirous he seemed
to be of it. He said, not long before his death, that " the
consideration of the day of death, and the day of judgment,
had a long time been peculiarly sweet to him." And at
another time, that " he could not but think of the meet-
ness there was in throwing such a rotten carcass as his
into the grave : it seemed to him to be the right way of
disposing of it." He often used the epithet glorious, when
speaking of the day of his death, calling it that glorious
adored, worshipped, and served, by all intelligent creatures. Thus I saw,
that when a soul loves God with a supreme love, he therein acts like the
blessed God himself, who most justly loves himself in that manner ; so
when God's interest and his are become one, and he longs that God should
be glorified, and rejoices to think that he is unchangeably possessed of the
highest glory and blessedness, herein also he acts in conformity to God.
In like manner, when the sou] is fully resigned to, and rests satisfied and
contented with, the divine will, here he is also conformed to God.
" I saw further, that as this divine temper, whereby the soul exalts God,
and treads itself in the dust, is wrought in the soul by God's discovering his
own glorious perfections, in the face of Jesus Christ, to it, by the special
influences of nis Holy. Spirit ; so he could not but have regard to it, as bis
own work; and as it is his image in the soul, he could not nut take delight
in it Then I saw again that if God should slight and reject his own moral
image, he must needs deny himself; which he cannot do. And thus I saw
the stability and infallibility of this religion ; and that those who were truly
possessed of it, had the most complete and satisfying evidence of their being
interested in all the benefits of Christ's redemption, having their hearts
conformed to him ; and that. these, and these only, were qualified for the
employments and entertainments ofTjod's kingdom of glory ; as none but
these would have any relish of the business ot heaven, which is to ascribe
glory to God, and not to themselves ; and that God (though I would speak
it with great reverence of his name and perfections) could not, without
denying himself, finally cast such away.
" The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire whether this was my
religion. And here God was pleased to help me to the most easy remem
brance and critical review of what had passed in course, of a religious na
ture, through several ofthe latter years of my life. And although I could
discover much corruption attending my best duties, many selfish views
and carnal ends, much spiritual pride, and self-exaltation, and innumer
able other evils which compassed me about ; I say, although I now dis
cerned the sins of my holy things, as well as other actions ; yet God
was pleased, as I was reviewing, quickly to put this question out of doubt,
by showing me that I had, from time to time, acted above the utmost influ
ence of mere self-love, that I had longed to please and glorify him. as my
highest happiness, &c. And this review was through grace attended with a
present feeling of the same divine temper of mind. I felt now pleased to think
of the glory of God ; and longed for heaven , as a state wherein I might glorify

day. On a sabbath-day morning, September 27, feeling
an unusual appetite to food, and looking on it as a sign of
approaching death, he said, " he should look on it as a
favour, if this might be his dying day, and that he longed
for the time." He had before expressed himself desirous
of seeing his brother again, whose return had been expected
from the Jerseys ; but then (speaking of him) he said, " I
am willing to go, and never see him again : I care not
what I part with, to be for ever with the Lord." Being
asked, that morning, how he did ? he answered, " I am
almost in eternity : God knows, I long to be there. My
work is done ; I have done with all my friends : all the
world is nothing to me." On the evening of the next day,
when he thought himself dying, and was apprehended to
be so by others, and he could utter himself only by broken
whispers, he often repeated the word Eternity ; and said,
" I shall soon be with the holy angels. — He will come ;
he will not tarry." He told me one night, as he went to
bed, that " he "expected to die that night." And added,
" I am not at all afraid, I am willing to go this night, if
it be the will of God. Death is what I long for. He
sometimes expressed himself as " nothing to do but to die :
and being willing to go that minute, if it was the will of
God." He sometimes used that expression, " O why is
his chariot so long in coming."
He seemed to have remarkable exercises of resignation
to the will of God. He once told me, that " he had
longed for the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit of God, and
the glorious times of the church, and hoped they were
coming ; and should have been willing to have lived to
promote religion at that time, if that had been the will of
God. But (says he) I am willing it should be as it is : I
would not have the choice to make myself for ten thousand
worlds."f He several times spake of the different kinds of willing
ness to die : and spoke of it as an ignoble mean kind, to
be willing, only to get rid of pain, or to go to heaven only
to get honour and advancement there. His own longings
for death seemed to be quite of a different kind, and for
nobler ends. When he was first taken with something like
a diarrhoea, which is looked upon as one of the last and
most fatal symptoms in a consumption, he said, " O now
the glorious time is coming ? I have longed to serve God
perfectly ; and God will gratify these desires." And at
one time and another, in the latter part of his illness, he
uttered these expressions. " My heaven is to please God,
and glorify him, and give all to him, and to be wholly
devoted to his glory.— That is the heaven I long for ; that
is my religion ; and that is my happiness ; and always
was, ever since I supposed I had any true religion : and
all those that are of that religion, shall meet me in heaven.
I do not go to heaven to be advanced, but to give honour
to God. It is no matter where I shall be stationed in
God perfectly, rather than a place of happiness for myself. And this feeling
of the love of God in my heart, which I trust the Spirit of God excited in me
afresh, was sufficient to give me full satisfaction, and make me long, as I
had many times before done, to be with Christ. I did not now want any of
the sudden suggestions, that many are so pleased with — That Christ and his
benefits are mine, That God loves me— in order to give me satisfaction about
my state. No, my soul now abhorred those delusions of Satan; which are
thought to be the immediate witness ofthe Spirit, while there is nothing but
an empty suggestion of a certain fact, without any gracious discovery ofthe
divine glory, or of the Spirit's work in their own hearts. I saw the awful
delusion of this kind of confidences ; as well as of the whole of that re
ligion, which they usually spring from, or at least are the attendants of, the
false religion of the late day, though a day of wondrous grace ; the imagi
nations and impressions made only on the animal affections ; together wllh
the sudden suggestions made to the mind by Satan, transformed into an angel
of light, of certain facts not revealed in Scripture : these, I say and many
like things, I fear have made up the greater part of the religious appear
ances in many places.
" These things I saw with great clearness, when I was thought to be
dying, and God gave me great concern for his chnrch and interest in the
world at tbis time : not so much because tbe late remarkable influence
upon the minds of people was abated, and almost wholly gone, as because
of the false religion, the heats of imagination, and wild and selfish commo
tions of the animal affections, which attended the work of grace had pre
vailed so far. This was that which my mind dwelt upon, almost day and
night: and this to me was the darkest appearance respecting religion in
the land. For it was this chiefly that had prejudiced the world against
inward religion. And this I saw was the great misery of all that so few
saw any manner of difference between those exercises that were spiritual
and holy, and those which have self-love only, for their beginning centre
and end." _ _. .
* See " Mr. Brainard's Journal," infra.
t He writes thus in his Diary :" Aug. 23, 1747. In the week past, I
had divers turns of inward refreshing. Though my body was inexpressibly
weak, followed continually with agues and fevers, sometimes mv soul
centered in God as my only portion; and I felt I should be for ever un
happy if he did not reign. I saw the sweetness and happiness of being his
subject, at his disposal. This made an my difficulties quickly vanish.

Serm. 111.

SAINTS ABSENT FROM THE BODY, &c.

;;.'»

heaven, whether I have a high or low seat there, but to
love, and please, and glorify God. If I had a thousand
souls, if they were worth any thing, I would give them all
to God : but I have nothing to give, when all is done. It
is impossible for any rational creature to be happy without
acting all for God. God himself could not make me
happy any other way. — I long to be in heaven, praising
and glorifying God with the holy angels ; all my desire is
to glorify God.— My heart goes out to the burying-place,
it seems to me a desirable place : But 0 to glorify God !
That is it ! That is above all !— It is a great comfort to
me to think that I have done a little for God in the world :
It is but a very small matter ; yet I have done a little ;
and I lament it, that I have not done more for him. —
There is nothing in the world worth living for, but doing
good, and finishing God's work, doing the work that Christ
did. I see nothing else in the world that can yield any
satisfaction, besides living to God, pleasing him, and
doing his whole will. My greatest joy and comfort has
been to do something for promoting the interest of reli
gion, and the souls of particular persons."*
After he came to be in so low a state, that he ceased to
have the least expectation of recovery, his mind was pecu
liarly carried forth with earnest concern for the prosperity
of the church of God on earth ; which seemed very mani
festly to arise from a pure disinterested love to Christ, and
desire of his glory. The prosperity of Zion, was a theme
he dwelt much upon, and of which he spake much ; and
more and more, the nearer death approached. He told
me when near his end, that " he never, in all his life, had
his mind so led forth in desires and earnest prayers for
the flourishing of Christ's kingdom on earth, as since he
was brought so exceeding low at Boston." He seemed
much to wonder, that there appeared no more disposition
in ministers and people, to pray for the flourishing of
religion through the world. And particularly, he several
times expressed his wonder, that there appeared no more
forwardness to comply with the proposal lately made from
Scotland, for united extraordinary prayer among God's
people, for the coming of Christ's kingdom, and sent it as
his dying advice to his own congregation, that they should
practise agreeably to that proposal.f
A little before his death, he said to me, as I came into
the room, " My thoughts have been employed on the old
dear theme, the prosperity of God's church on earth. As
I waked out of sleep (said he) I was led to cry for the
pouring out of God's Spirit, and the advancement of
Christ's kingdom, which the dear Redeemer did and
suffered so much for : it is that especially makes me long
for it."— But a few days before his death, he desired us to
sing a psalm concerning the prosperity of Zion ; which he
signified his mind was engaged m above all things ; and
at his desire we sang a part of the 102d Psalm. And
when we had done, though he was then so low that he
could scarcely speak, he so exerted himself, that he made
a prayer, very audibly, wherein, besides praying for those
present, and for his own congregation, he earnestly prayed
for the reviving and flourishing bf religion in the world.
His own congregation especially lay much on his heart.
He often spake of them ; and commonly when he did so,
it was with extraordinary tenderness ; so that his speech
was interrupted and drowned with weeping.
Thus I have endeavoured to represent something of the
character and behaviour of that excellent servant ofChrist,
whose funeral is now to be attended. Though I have
done it very imperfectly ; yet I have endeavoured to do it
faithfully, and as in the presence and fear of God, without
# In his Diary he writes thus : " Sept. 7. 1747. When I was in great
distress of body, my soul desired that God should be glorified. I saw there
was no heaven but this. I could not but speak to the by-standers then of
the only happiness, vim. pleasing God. O that I could for ever live to God !
The day, I trust, is at hand, the perfect day ! O, the day of deliverance
from all sin !
" Sept 19. Near night, while I attempted to walk a little, my thoughts
turned thus : How infinitely sweet it is to love God. and be all for him !
Upon which it was suggested to me, • You are not an angel, not lively and
active.' To which my whole soul immediately replied, ' I as sincerely desire
to love and glorify God as any angel in heaven.' Upon which it was
suggested again, ' But you are filthy, not fit for heaven." Hereupon in
stantly appeared the blessed robe of Christ's righteousness, which I could
not but exult and triumph in. I viewed the infinite excellency of God :
and my soul even broke with longings, that God should be glorified. I
thought of dignity in heaven; but instantly the thought returned, I do not
go to heaven to get honour, but to give all possible glory and praise. O,
ow I longed that God should be glorified oh earth also ! O, I was made
D 2

flattery ; which surely is to be abhorred in ministers of
the gospel, when speaking as messengers of the Lord of
hosts. Such reason have we to be satisfied that the person
spoken of, now he is absent from the body, is present
with the Lord ; and now wearing a crown of glory, of
distinguished brightness.
And how much is there in the consideration of such an
example, and so blessed an end, to excite us, who are yet
alive, with the greatest diligence and earnestness, to im
prove the time of life, that" we also may go to be with
Christ, when we forsake the body ! The time is coming,
and will soon come, we know not how soon, when we
must take leave of all things here below, to enter on a fixed
unalterable state in the eternal world. O, how well is it
worth the while to labour and suffer, and deny ourselves,
to lay up in store a good foundation of support and sup
ply, against that time I How much is such a peace as we
have heard of, worth at such a time ! And now dismal
would it be, to be in such circumstances, under the out
ward distresses of a consuming, dissolving frame, and
looking death in the face from day to day, with hearts un-
cleansed, and sin unpardoned, under a dreadful load of
guilt and divine wrath, having much sorrow and wrath in
our sickness, and nothing to comfort and support our
minds ; nothing before us but a speedy appearance before
the judgment-seat of an almighty, infinitely holy, and
angry God, and an endless eternity in suffering his wrath
without mercy ! The person we have been speaking of, had
a great sense of this. He said, not long before his death,
" It is sweet to me to think of eternity : the endlessness of
it makes it sweet. But, oh, what shall I say to the eter
nity of the wicked ! I cannot mention it, nor think of it !
— The thought is too dreadful !" At another time, speak
ing of a heart devoted to God and his glory, he said, " O
of what importance is it to have such a frame of mind,
such a heart as this, when we come to die ! It is this now
that gives me peace."
How much is there, in particular, in the things that have
been observed of this eminent minister of Christ, to excite
us, who are called to the same great work of the gospel-
ministry, to earnest care and endeavours, that we may be
in like manner faithful in our work ; that we may be filled
with the same spirit, animated with the like pure and fer
vent flame of love to God, and the like earnest concern to
advance the kingdom and glory of our Lord and Master,
and the prosperity of Zion f How amiable did these prin
ciples render this servant of Christ in his life, and how
blessed in his end ! The time will soon come, when we
also must leave our earthly tabernacles, and go to our Lord
that sent us to labour in his harvest, to render an account
of ourselves to him. O how does it concern us so to run
as not uncertainly ; so to fight, not as those that beat the
air ! And should not what we have heard excite us to de
pend on God for his help and assistance in our great work,
and to be much in seeking the influences of his Spirit, and
success in our labours, by fasting and prayer ; in which
the person spoken of was abundant? This practice he
earnestly recommended on his death-bed, from his own
experience of its great benefits, to some candidates for the
ministry that stood by his bedside. He was often speaking
of the great need ministers have of much of the Spirit of
Christ in their work, and how little good they are like to
do without it ; and how, " when ministers were under the
special influences of the Spirit of God, it assisted them to
come at the consciences of men, and (as he expressed it)
as it were to handle them with hands : whereas, without
the Spirit of God, said he, whatever reason and oratory we
for eternity, if God might be glorified ! Bodily pains I cared not for ; though
I was then in extremity, I never felt easier ; I felt willing to glorify God
in that state of bodily distress, as long as he pleased I should continue so.
The grave appeared really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bones in
it : but, O ! that God might be glorified ! This was the burden of all my cry.
O, I knew I should be active as an angel in heaven, and that I should be
stripped of my filthy garments ! So that there was no objection. But, O,
to love and praise God more, to please him for ever ! This my soul panted
after, and even now pants for, while I write. O, that God may be glorified
in the whole earth ! Lord, let thy kingdom come. I longed for a spirit of
preaching to descend and rest on ministers, that they might address the con
sciences of men with closeness and power. I saw God had the residue of the
Spirit ; and my soul longed it should be poured out from on high. I could
not but plead with God for my dear congregation, that he would preserve
it, and not suffer his great name to lose its glory in that work ; my soul still
longing, that God might be glorified."
t See " A Call to united Extraordinary Prayer," infra.

36

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

make use of, we do but make use of stumps, instead of
hands." Oh that the things that were seen and heard in this ex
traordinary person, his holiness, heavenliness, labour, and
self-denial in life, his so remarkably devoting himself and
his all, in heart and practice, to the glory of God, and the
wonderful frame of mind manifested in so stedfast a man
ner, under the expectation of death, and the pains and
agonies that brought it on, may excite in us all, both

ministers and people, a due sense of the greatness of the
work we have to do in the world, the excellency and
amiableness of thorough religion in experience and prac
tice, and the blessedness of the end of such a life, and the
infinite value of their eternal reward, when absent from
the body and present with the Lord ; and effectually stir
us up to endeavours that in the way of such a holy life, we
may at last come to so blessed an end.— Amen.

SERMON IV.*
GOD'S AWFUL JUDGMENT IN THE BREAKING AND WITHERING OF THE
STRONG RODS OF A COMMUNITY.

Ezek. xix. 12.
Her strong rods were broken and withered.
In order to a right understanding and improvement of
these words, these four things must be observed concern
ing them.
1. Who she is that is here represented as having had
strong rods, viz. the Jewish community, who here, as
often elsewhere, is called the people's mother. She is
here compared to a vine planted in a very fruitful soil,
ver. 10. The Jewish church and state is often elsewhere
compared to a vine ; as Psal. lxxx. 8, &c. Isa. v. 2. Jer.
ii. 21. Ezek. xv. and chap. xvii. 6.
2. What is meant by her strong rods, viz. her wise, able,
and well qualified magistrates or rulers. That the rulers
or magistrates are intended is manifest by ver. 11. " And
she had strong rods for the sceptres of them that bear
rule." And by rods that were strong, must be meant
such rulers as were well qualified for magistracy, such as
had great abilities and other qualifications fitting them for
the business of rule. They were wont to choose a rod or
staff of the strongest and hardest sort of wood that could
be found, for the mace or sceptre of a prince ; such an one
only being counted fit for that use ; and this generally was
overlaid with gold.
It is very remarkable that such a strong rod should
grow out of a weak vine : but so it had been in Israel,
through God's extraordinary blessing, in times past.
Though the nation is spoken of here, and frequently else
where, as weak and helpless in itself, and entirely depend
ent as a vine, the weakest of all trees, that cannot support
itself by its own strength, and never stands but as it leans
on or hangs by something else that is stronger than itself ;
pet God had caused many of her sons to be strong rods fit
"or sceptres ; he had raised up in Israel many able and
excellent princes and magistrates, who had done worthily
in their day.
3. It should be understood and observed what is meant
by these strong rods being broken and withered, viz. these
able and excellent rulers being removed by death : men's
dying is often compared in Scripture to the withering of
.the growth of the earth.
4. It should be observed after what manner the breaking
and withering of these strong rods is here spoken of, viz.
as a great and awful calamity, that God had brought upon
that people : it is spoken of as one of the chief effects of
God _ dreadful displeasure against them ; " But she was
plucked up in fury, she was cast down to the ground, and
the east wind dried up her fruit: her strong rods were
broken and withered, the fire hath consumed them." The
great benefits she enjoyed while her strong rods remained,
are represented in the preceding verse; "And she had
strong rods for the sceptres of them that bear rule, and her
stature was exalted among the thick branches ; and she
appeared in her height with the multitude of her branches."
• Preached at Northampton on the Lord's day, June 26, IMS.™ <*»>
death of the Honourable "john Stoddard. Esq. often a member of Ins
Majesty's council, for many years chief justice of the court of Common

i

And the terrible calamities that attended the breaking and
withering of her strong rods, are represented in the two
verses next following the text ; " And now she is planted
in the wilderness, in a dry and thirsty ground. And fire
is gone out of a rod of her branches, which hath devoured
her fruit." And in the conclusion in the next words, is
very emphatically declared the worthiness of such a dis
pensation to be greatly lamented ; " So that she hath no
strong rod to be a sceptre to rule : this is a lamentation,
and shall be for a lamentation."
That which I therefore observe from the words of the
text, to be the subject of discourse at this time, is this, viz.
When God by death removes from a people those in place
of public authority and rule that have been as strong rods,
it is an awfui judgment of God on that people, and worthy
of great lamentation.
In discoursing on this proposition, I would,
1. Show what kind of rulers may fitly be called strong
rods. 2. Show why the removal of such rulers from a people
by death is to be looked upon as an awful judgment of
God on that people, and is greatly to be lamented.
I. I would observe what qualifications of those who are
in public authority and rule may properly give them the
denomination of strong rods.
1. One qualification of rulers whence they may pro
perly be denominated strong rods, is great ability for the
management of public affairs. This is the case, when they
who stand in a place of public authority are men of great
natural abilities, men of uncommon strength of reason and
largeness of understanding; especially when they have
a remarkable genius for government, a peculiar iurn of
mind fitting them to gain an extraordinary understanding
in things of that nature. They have ability, in an especial
manner, for insight into the mysteries of government, and
for discerning those things wherein the public welfare or
calamity consists, and the proper mean? to avoid the one
and promote the other ; an extraordinary talent at distin
guishing what is right and just, from that which is wrong
and unequal, and to see through the false colours with
which injustice is often disguised, and unravel the false
and subtle arguments and cunning sophistry that is often
made use of to defend iniquity. They have not only great
natural abilities in these respects, but their abilities and
talents have been improved by study, learning, observation,
and experience ; and by these means they have obtained
great actual knowledge. They have acquired,great skill in
public affairs, and things requisite to be known in order to
their wise, prudent, and effectual management ; they have
obtained a great understanding of men and things, a great
knowledge of human nature, and ofthe way of accommo
dating themselves to it, so as most effectually to influence
it to wise purposes. They have obtained a very extensive
knowledge of men with whom they are concerned in the
Pleas for the county of Hampshire, judge of the probate of wills, and chief
colonel of the regiment, _c. who died at Boston, June 19, 1748 in the 67th
year of his age.

Serm. IV.

A STRONG ROD BROKEN AND WITHERED.

37

management of public affairs, either those who have a joint
concern in government, or those who are to be governed ;
and they have also obtained a very full and particular un
derstanding of the state and circumstances of the country or
people of whom they have the care, and know well their
laws and constitution, and what their circumstances re
quire ; and likewise have a great knowledge of the people
of neighbouring nations, states, or provinces, with whom
they have occasion to be concerned in the management of
public affairs committed to them. These things all contri
bute lo render those who are in authority fit to be de
nominated " strong rods."
2. When they have not only great understanding, but
largeness of heart, and a greatness and nobleness of dispo
sition, this is another qualification that belongs to the cha
racter of a "strong rod."
Those that are by Divine Providence set in a place of
public authority and rale, are called " gods, and sons of
the Most HighJ" Psalm Ixxxii. 6. And therefore it is pe
culiarly unbecoming them to be of a mean spirit, a dispo
sition that will admit of their doing those things that are
sordid and vile ; as when they are persons of a narrow,
private spirit, that may be found in little tricks and in
trigues to promote their private interest. Such will shame
fully defile their hands to gain a few pounds, are not
ashamed to grind the faces of the poor, and screw their
neighbours ; and will take advantage of their authority or
commission to line their own pockets with what is fraudu
lently taken or withheld from others. When a man in
authority is of such a mean spirit, it weakens his au
thority, and makes him justly contemptible in the eyes of
men, and is utterly inconsistent with his being a strong
rod. But on the contrary, it greatly establishes his authority,
and causes others to stand in awe of him, when they see
him to be a man of greatness of mind, one that abhors
those things that are mean and sordid, and not capable of
a compliance with them : one that is of a public spirit,
and not of a private narrow disposition ; a man of honour,
and not of mean artifice and clandestine management, for
filthy lucre ; one that abhors trifling and impertinence, or
to waste away his time, that should be spent in the service
of God, his king, and his country, in vain amusements and
diversions, and in the pursuit of the gratifications of sen
sual appetites. God charges the rulers in Israel, that
pretended to be their great and mighty men, with being
mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle
strong drink. There does not seem to be any reference to
their being men of strong heads, and able to bear a great
deal of strong drink, as some have supposed : there is a
severe sarcasm in the words ; for the prophet is speaking
of the great men, princes, and judges in Israel, (as ap
pears by the verse next following,) which should be mighty
men, strong rods, men of eminent qualifications, excelling
in Dobleness of spirit, of glorious strength and fortitude of
mind ; but instead of that, they were mighty or eminent
for nothing but gluttony and drunkenness.
3. When those that are in authority are endowed with
much of a spirit of government, this is another thing that
entitles them to the denomination of "strong rods." They
not only are men of great understanding and wisdom in
affairs that appertain to government, but have also a pecu
liar talent at using their knowledge, and exerting themselves
in this great and important business, according to their
great understanding in it. They are men of eminent for
titude, and are not afraid of the faces of men, are not afraid
to do the part that properly belongs to them as rulers,
though they meet with great opposition, and the spirits of
men are greatly irritated by it. They have a spirit of reso
lution and activity, so as to keep the wheels of government
in proper motion, and to cause judgment and justice to run
down as a mighty stream ; they have not only a great
knowledge of government, and the things that belong to it
in theory, but it is, as it were, natural to them to apply the
various powers and faculties with which God has endowed
them, and the knowledge they have obtained by study and
observation, to that business, so as to perform it most ad
vantageously and effectually.
4. Stability and firmness of integrity, fidelity, and piety,
in the exercise of authority, is another thing that greatly

contributes to, and is very essential in, the character of a
" strong rod."
He is not only a man of strong reason and great discern
ing to know what is just, but is a man of strict integrity
and righteousness, firm and immovable in the execution
of justice and judgment. He is not only a man of great
ability to bear down vice and immorality, but has a dispo
sition agreeable to such ability ; is one lhat has a strong
aversion to wickedness, and is disposed to use the power
God has put into his hands to suppress it; and is one that
not only opposes vice by his authority, but by his example.
He is one of inflexible fidelity, who will be faithful to God
whose minister he is, to his people for good, and who is
immovable in his regard to his supreme authority, his
commands and his glory ; and will be faithful to his king
and country. He will not be induced by the many tempt
ations that attend the business of men in public authority,
basely to betray his trust ; will not consent to do what he
thinks not to be for the public good, for his own gain or
advancement, or any private interest. He is well princi
pled, and firm in acting agreeably to his principles, and will
not be prevailed with to do otherwise through fear or fa
vour, to follow a multitude, or to maintain his interest in
any on whom he depends for the honour or profit of his
place, whether it be prince or people ; and is also one of that
strength of mind, whereby he rules his own spirit. These
things very eminently contribute to a ruler's title to the
denomination of a " strong rod."
5. And lastly, It also contributes to that strength of a
man in authority by which he may be denominated a
" strong rod," when he is in such circumstances as give
him advantage for the exercise of his strength for the pub
lic good ; as his being a person of honourable descent, of a
distinguished education, a man of estate, one advanced in
years, one that has long been in authority, so that it is be
come as it were natural for the people to pay him defer-.
ence, to reverence him, to be influenced and governed by
him, and to submit to his authority ; and add to this, his
being extensively known, and much honoured and regarded
abroad ; his being one of a good presence, majesty of
countenance, decency of behaviour, becoming one in
authority ; of forcible speech, &c. These things add to his
strength, and increase his ability and advantage to serve his
generation in the place of a ruler, and therefore serve to
render him one lhat is the more fitly and eminently called
a " strong rod." — I now proceed,
II. To show that when such strong rods are broken and
withered by death, it is an awful judgment of God on the
fieople who are deprived of them, and worthy of great
amentation. — And that on two accounts.
1. By reason ofthe many positive benefits and blessings
to a people that such rulers are the instruments of.
Almost all the prosperity of a public society and civil
community does, under God, depend on their rulers.
They are like the main springs or wheels in a machine,
that keep every part in its due motion, and are in the body
politic, as the vitals in the body natural, and as the pillars
and foundation in a building. Civil rulers are called " the
foundations of the earth." Psal. Ixxxii. and xi. 3.
The prosperity of a people depends more on their rulers
than is commonly imagined. As they have the public
society under their care and power, so they have advantage
to promote the public interest every way ; and if they are
such rulers as have been described, they are some of the
greatest blessings to the public. Their influence has a
tendency to promote wealth, and cause temporal posses
sions and blessings to abound; and to promote virtue
amongst them, and so to unite them one to another in
peace and mutual benevolence, and make them happy in
society, each one the instrument of his neighbours' quiet
ness, comfort, and prosperity; and by these means to ad
vance their reputation and honour in the world ; and
which is much more, to promote their spiritual and eternal
happiness. Therefore, the wise man says, Eccles. x. 17.
" Blessed art thou, O land, when thy king is the son of
nobles." We have a remarkable instance and evidence of the
happy and great influence of such a strong rod as has been
described, to promote the universal prosperity of a people,
in the history of the reign of Solomon, though many of the

38

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

people were uneasy under his government, and thought
him too rigorous in his administrations : see 1 Kings xii.
4. " Judah and Israel dwelt safely, every man under his
vine and under his fig-tree, from Dan even to Beersheba,
all the days of Solomon." 1 Kings iv. 25. "And he made
silver to be among them as stones for abundance." Chap. x.
27. " And Judah and Israel were many, eating and drink
ing and making merry." The queen of Sheba admired,
and was greatly affected with, the happiness of the people,
under the government of such a strong rod, 1 Kings x. 8,
9. " Happy are thy men, (says she,) happy are these thy
servants which stand continually before thee, and that heal
thy wisdom. Blessed be the Lord thy God which de
lighted in thee, to set thee on the throne of Israel ; be
cause the Lord loved Israel for ever, therefore made he
thee king, to do judgment and justice."
The flourishing state of the kingdom of Judah, while
they had strong rods for the sceptres of them that bare rule,
is taken notice of in our context; " her stature was exalt
ed among the thick branches, and she appeared in her
height with the multitude of her branches.
Such rulers are eminently the ministers of God to his
people for good : they are great gifts of the Most High to a
people, blessed tokens of his favour, and vehicles of his
goodness to them ; and therein are images of his own Son,
the grand medium of all God's goodness to fallen man
kind; and therefore, all of them are called, sons of the
Most High. All civil rulers, if they are as they ought to
be, such strong rods as have been described, will be like
the Son of the Most High, vehicles of good to mankind,
and like him, will be as the light of the morning when the
sun riseth, even a morning without clouds, as the tender
grass springing out of the earth, by clear shining after
rain. And therefore, when a people are bereaved of
them, they sustain an unspeakable loss, and are the sub
jects of a judgment of God that is greatly to be lamented.
2. On account of the great calamities such rulers are a
defence from. Innumerable are the grievous and fatal
calamities which public societies are exposed to in this
evil world, from which they can have no defence without
order and authority. If a people are without government,
they are like a city broken down and without walls, en
compassed on every side by enemies, and become unavoid
ably subject to all manner of confusion and misery.
Government is necessary to defend communities from
miseries from within themselves ; from the prevalence of
intestine discord, mutual injustice, and violence ; the mem
bers ofthe society continually making a prey one of another,
without any defence from each other. Rulers are the
heads of union in public societies, that hold the parts to
gether ; without which nothing else is to be expected than
that the members of the society will be continually divided
against themselves, every one acting the part of an enemy
to his neighbour, every one's hand against every man, and
every man's hand against him ; going on in remediless and
endless broils and jarring, until the society be utterly dis
solved and broken in pieces, and life itself, in the neigh
bourhood of our fellow-creatures, becomes miserable and
intolerable. We may see the need of government in societies by
what is visible in families, those lesser societies, of which
all public societies are constituted. How miserable would
these little societies be, if all were left to themselves, with
out any authority or superiority in one above another, or
any head of union and influence among them ! We may
be convinced by what we see of the lamentable conse
quences of the want of a proper exercise of authority and
maintenance of government in families, which yet are not
absolutely without all authority. No less need is there of
government in public societies, but much more, as they
ire larger. A very few may possibly, without any govern
ment, act by concert, so as to concur in what shall be for
the welfare of the whole ; but this is not to be expected
among a multitude, constituted of many thousands, of a
great variety of tempers and different interests.
As government is absolutely necessary, so there is a
necessity of strong rods iu order to it : the business being
such as requires persons so qualified; no other being suf
ficient for, or well capable of, the government of public
societies: and therefore, those public- societies are miser

able that have not such strong rods for sceptres to rule,
Eccles. x. 16. " Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a
child." , .
As government, and strong rods for the exercise ot it,
are necessary to preserve public societies from dreadful and
fetal calamities arising from among themselves ; so no less
requisite are they to defend the community from foreign
enemies. As they are like the pillars of a building, so
they are also like the walls and bulwarks of a city : they
are under God the main strength of a people in the time of
war, and the chief instruments of their preservation, safety,
and rest. This is signified in a very lively manner in the
words that are used by the Jewish community in her la
mentations, to express the expectations she had from her
princes, Lam. iv. 20. "The breath of our nostrils, the
anointed of the Lord, was taken in their pits, of whom we
said, Under his shadow .we shall live among the heathen."
In this respect also such strong rods are sons of the Most
High, and images or resemblances of the Son of God, viz.
as they are their saviours from their enemies ; as the judges
that God raised up of old in Israel are called, Neh. ix. 27.
" Therefore thou deliverest them into the hand of their.
enemies, who vexed them : and in the time of their
trouble when they cried unto thee, thou heardest them from
heaven ; and according to thy manifold mercies, thou gavest
them saviours, who saved them out of the hand of their
enemies." Thus both the prosperity and safety of a people under
God, depends on such rulers as are strong rods. While
they enjoy such blessings, they are wont to be like a vine
planted in a fruitful soil, with her stature exalted among
the thick branches, appearing in her height with the mul
titude of her branches; but when they have no strong rod
to be a sceptre to rule, they are like a vine planted in a
wilderness that is exposed to be plucked up, and cast
down to the ground, to have her fruit dried up with the
east wind, and to have fire coming out of her own branches
to devour her fruit.
On these accounts, when a people's strong rods are bro
ken and withered, it is an awful judgment of God on that
people, and worthy of great lamentation : as when king
Josiah (who was doubtless one of the strong rods referred
to in the text) was dead, the people made great lamenta
tion for him, 2 Chron. xxxv. 24, 25. " And they brought
him to Jerusalem, and he died, and was buried in one of
the sepulchres of his fathers : and all Judah and Jeru
salem mourned for Josiah. And Jeremiah lamented for
Josiah : and all the singing-men and the singing-women
spake of Josiah in their lamentations to this day, and made
them an ordinance in Israel : and, behold, they are written
in the lamentations."

APPLICATION.
I come now to apply these things to our own case, under
the late awful frown of Divine Providence upon us, in re
moving by death that honourable person in public rule
and authority, an inhabitant of this town, and belonging to
this congregation and church, who died at Boston the last
Lord's day.
He was eminently a strong rod in the fore-mentioned
respects. As to his natural abilities, strength of reason,
greatness and clearness of discerning, and depth of pene
tration, he was one of the first rank. It may be doubted
whether he has left his superior in these respects in these
parts of the world. He was a man of a truly great genius,
and his genius was peculiarly fitted for the understanding
and managing of public affairs.
And as his natural capacity was great, so was the know
ledge that he had acquired, his understanding being greatly
improved by close application of mind to those things he
was called to be concerned in, and by a very exact ob
servation of them, and long experience in them. He had
indeed a great insight into the nature of public societies,
the mysteries of government, and the affairs of peace and
war. "He had a discernment that very few have of those
things wherein the public weal consists, and what those
things are that expose public societies ; and of the proper
means to avoid the latter, and promote the former. He

Serm. IV.

A STRONG ROD BROKEN AND WITHERED.

39

was quick in his discerning, in that in most cases, espe
cially such as belonged to his proper business, he at first
sight would see further than most men when they had
done their best ; but yet he had a wonderful faculty of
improving his own thoughts by meditation, and carrying
his views a greater and greater length by long and close
application of mind. He had an extraordinary ability to
distinguish right and wrong, in the midst of intricacies, and
circumstances that tended to perplex and darken the case.
He was able to weigh things as it were in a balance, and
to distinguish those things that were solid and weighty
from those that had only a fair show without substance ;
which he evidently discovered in his accurate, clear, and
plain way of stating and committing causes to a jury, from
the bench, as by others hath been observed. He wonder
fully distinguished truth from falsehood, and the most
laboured cases seemed always to lie clear in his mind, his
ideas being properly ranged ; and he had a talent of commu
nicating them to every one's understanding, beyond almost
any one; and if any were misguided, it was not because
truth and falsehood, right and wrong, were not well dis
tinguished. He was probably one of the ablest politicians that ever
New England bred. He had a very uncommon insight
into human nature, and a marvellous ability to penetrate
into the particular tempers and dispositions of such as he
had to deal with, and to discern the fittest way of treating
them, so as most effectually to influence them to any good
and wise purpose.
And never perhaps was there a person that had a more
extensive and thorough knowledge ofthe state of this land,
and its public affairs, and of persons that were jointly con
cerned with him in them. lie knew this people, and their
circumstances, and what their circumstances required. He
discerned the diseases of this body, and what were the
proper remedies, as an able and masterly physician. He
had a great acquaintance with the neighbouring colonies,
and also the nations on this continent, with whom we are
concerned in our public affairs. He had a far greater
knowledge than any other person in the land, of the
several nations of Indians in these northern parts of
America, their tempers, manners, and the proper way of
treating them ; and was more extensively known by them
than any other person in the country. And no other per
son in authority in this province had such an acquaintance
with the people and country of Canada, the land of our
enemies, as he had.
He was exceeding far from a disposition and forward
ness to intermeddle with other people's business ; but as
to what belonged to his proper business, in the offices he
sustained, and the important affairs of which he had the
care, he had a great understanding of what belonged to
them. I have often been surprised at the length of his
reach, and what I have seen of his ability to foresee and
determine the consequences of things, even at a great dis
tance, and quite beyond the sight of other men. He was
not wavering and unsteady in his opinion. His manner
was never to pass a judgment rashly, but was wont first
thoroughly to deliberate and weigh an affair; and in this,
notwithstanding his great abilities, he was glad to improve
by the help of conversation and discourse with others, (and
often spake of the great advantage he found by it,) but
when, on mature consideration, he had settled his judg
ment, he was not easily turned from it by false colours,
and plausible pretences and appearances.
And besides his knowledge of things belonging to his
particular calling as a ruler, he had also a great degree of
understanding in things belonging to his general calling as
a Christian. He was no inconsiderable divine. He was a
wise casuist, as I know by the great help I have found
from time to time by his judgment and advice in cases of
conscience, wherein I have consulted him. And indeed
I scarce knew the divine that I ever found more able to
help and enlighten the mind in such cases than he. And
he had no small degree of knowledge in things pertaining
to experimental religion ; but was wont to discourse on
such subjects, not only with accurate doctrinal distinctions,
but as one intimately and feelingly acquainted with these
things. He was not only great in speculative knowledge, but

his knowledge was practical ; such as tended to a wise
conduct in the affairs, business, and duties of life; so as
properly to have the denomination of wisdom, and so as
properly and eminently to invest him with the character
of a wise man. And he was not only eminently wise and
prudent in his own conduct, but was one of the ablest and
wisest counsellors of others in any difficult affair.
The greatness and honourableness of his disposition was
answerable to the largeness of his understanding. He was
naturally of a great mind ; in this respect he was truly the
son of nobles. He greatly abhorred things which were
mean and sordid, and seemed to be incapable of a com
pliance with them. How far was he from trifling and im
pertinence in his conversation ! How fer from a busy,
meddling disposition ! How far from any sly and clan
destine management to fill his pockets with what was
fraudulently withheld, or violently squeezed, from the la
bourer, soldier, or inferior officer ! How far from taking
advantage from his commission or authority, or any su
perior power he had in his hands ; or the ignorance, de
pendence, or necessities of others ; to add to his own
gains with what properly belonged to them, and with what
they might justly expect as a proper reward for any of
their services ! How fer was he from secretly taking
bribes offered to induce him to favour any man in his
cause, or by his power or interest to promote his being
advanced to any place of public trust, honour, or profit !
How greatly did he abhor lying and prevarication ! And
how immovably stedfast was he to exact truth ! His
hatred of those things that were mean and sordid was so
apparent and well known, that it was evident that men
dreaded to appear in any thing of that nature in his pre
sence. He was a man of a remarkably public spirit, a true
lover of his country, and who greatly abhorred sacrificing
the public welfare to private interest. — He was very emi
nently endowed with a spirit of government. The God of
nature seemed to have formed him for government, as
though he had been made on purpose, and cast into a
mould, by which he should be every way fitted for the
business of a man in public authority. Such a behaviour
and conduct was natural to him, as tended to maintain
his authority, and possess others with awe and reverence,
and to enforce and render effectual what he said and did
in the exercise of his authority. He did not bear the
sword in vain : he was truly a terror to evil-doers. What
I saw in him often put me in mind of that saying of the
wise man, Prov. xx. 8. " The king that sitteth in the
throne of judgment scattereth away all evil with his eyes."
He was one that was not afraid of the faces of men ; and
every one knew that it was in vain to attempt to deter
him from doing what, on mature consideration, he had de
termined he ought to do. — Every thing in him was great,
and becoming a man in his public station. Perhaps
never was there a man that appeared in New England to
whom the denomination of a great man did more pro
perly belong.
But though he was one that was great among men, ex
alted above others in abilities and greatness of mind, and
in the place of rule, and feared not the faces of men, yet
he feared God. He was strictly conscientious in his con
duct, both in public and private. I never knew the man
that seemed more stedfastly and immovably to act by
principle, and according to rules and maxims, established
and settled in his mind by the dictates of his judgment
and conscience. He was a man of strict justice and
fidelity. Faithfulness was eminently his character. Some
of his greatest opponents that have been of the contrary
party to him in public affairs, yet have openly acknow
ledged this of him, that he was a faithful man. He was
remarkably faithful in his public trusts. He would not
basely betray his trust, from fear or favour. It was in
vain to expect it ; however men might oppose him or
neglect him, and how great soever they were : nor would
he neglect the public interest committed to him, for the
sake of his own ease, but diligently and laboriously
watched and laboured for it night and day. And he was
faithful in private affairs as well as public. He was a
most faithful friend ; faithful to any one that in any case
asked his counsel : and his fidelity might be depended

40

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

upon in whatever affair he undertook for any of his
neighbours. He was a noted instance of the virtue of temperance,
unalterable in it, in all places, in all companies, and in
the midst of all temptations. Though he was a man of a
great spirit, yet he had a remarkable government of his
spirit ; and excelled in the government of his tongue. In
the midst of all provocations from multitudes he had to
deal with, and the great multiplicity of perplexing affairs
in which he was concerned, and all the opposition and re
proaches of which he was at any time the subject ; yet
what was there that ever proceeded out of his mouth that
his enemies could lay hold of? No profane language, no
vain, rash, unseemly, and unchristian speeches. If at any
time he expressed himself with great warmth and vigour, it
seemed to be from principle and determination of judg
ment, rather than from passion. When he expressed him
self strongly, and with vehemence, those that were ac
quainted with him, and well observed him from time to
time, might evidently see it was done in consequence of
thought and judgment, weighing the circumstances and
consequences of things.
The calmness and steadiness of his behaviour in pri
vate, particularly in his family, appeared remarkable and
exemplary to those who had most opportunity to observe.
He was thoroughly established in those religious princi
ples and doctrines of the first fathers of New England,
usually called the doctrines of grace, and had a great de
testation of the opposite errors of the present fashionable
divinity, as very contrary to the word of God, and the ex
perience of every true Christian. And as he was a friend
.to truth, so he was a friend to vital piety and the power
of godliness, and ever countenanced and favoured it on
all occasions.
He abhorred profaneness, and was a person of a serious
and decent spirit, and ever treated sacred things with
reverence. He was exemplary for his decent attendance
on the public worship of God. Who ever saw him irre
verently and indecently lolling, and laying down his head
to sleep, or gazing about the meeting-house in time of
divine service ? And as he was able (as was before ob
served) to discourse very understanding^ of experimental
religion, so to some persons with whom he was very inti
mate, he gave intimations sufficiently plain, while con
versing of these things, that they were matters of his own
experience. And some serious persons in civil authority,
who have ordinarily differed from him in matters of go
vernment, yet on some occasional close conversation with
him on things of religion, have manifested a high opinion
of him as to real experimental piety.
As he was known to be a serious person, and an enemy
to a profane or vain conversation, so he was feared on
that account by great and small. When he was in the
room, only his presence was sufficient to maintain de
cency ; though many were there accounted great men,
who otherwise were disposed to take a much greater free
dom in their talk and behaviour, than they dared to do in
his presence. He was not unmindful of death, nor in
sensible of his own frailty, nor did death come unexpected
to him. For some years past, he has spoken much to some
persons of dying, and going into the eternal world, signify
ing that he did not expect to continue long here.
Added to all these things, to render him eminently a
strong rod, he was attended with many circumstances
which tended to give him advantage for the exerting of his
strength for the public good. He was honourably de
scended, was a man of considerable substance, had been
long in authority, was extensively known and honoured
abroad, was high in the esteem of the many tribes of In

dians in the neighbourhood of the British colonies, and so
had great influence upon them above any other man m
New England. God had endowed him with a comely
presence, and majesty of countenance, becoming the great
qualities of his mind, and the place in which God had
set him.
In the exercise of these qualities and endowments, un
der these advantages, he has been as it were a father to
this part of the land, on whom the whole county had,
under God, its dependence in all its public affairs, and
especially since the beginning of the present war. How
much the weight of all the warlike concerns of the coun
try (which above any part of the land lies exposed to the
enemy) has lain on his shoulders, and how he has been
the spring of all motion, and the doer of every thing that
has been done, and how wisely and faithfully he has con
ducted these affairs, I need not inform this congregation'.
You well know that he took care of the county as a father
of a family of children, not neglecting men's lives, and
making light of their blood ; but with great diligence,
vigilance, and prudence, applying himself continually to
the proper means of our safety and welfare. And espe
cially has this his native town, where he has dwelt from
his infancy, reaped the benefit of his happy influence.
His wisdom has been, under God, very much our guide,
and his authority our support and strength, and he has
been a great honour to Northampton, and ornament to our
church. He continued in full capacity of usefulness while
he lived ; he was indeed considerably advanced in years,
but his powers of mind were not sensibly abated, and his
strength of body was not so impaired, but that he was
able to go long journeys, in extreme heat and cold, and in
a short time.
But now this " strong rod is broken and withered," and
surely the judgment of God therein is very awful, and the
dispensation that which may well be for a lamentation.
Probably we shall be more sensible of the worth and im
portance of such a strong rod by the want of it. The
awful voice of God in this providence is worthy to be
attended to by this whole province, and especially by the
people of this county, but in a more peculiar manner by
us of this town. We have now this testimony of the
divine displeasure, added to all the other dark clouds God
has lately brought over us, and his awful frowns upon us.
It is a dispensation, on many accounts, greatly calling for
our humiliation and fear before God ; an awful mani
festation of his supreme, universal, and absolute dominion,
calling us to adore the divine sovereignty, and tremble at
the presence of this great God. And it is a lively instance
of human frailty and mortality. We see how that none
are out of the reach of death, that no greatness, no autho
rity, no wisdom and sagacity, no honourableness of person
or station, no degree of valuableness and importance,
exempts from the stroke of death. This is therefore a
loud and solemn warning to all sorts to prepare for their
departure hence.
And the memory of this person who is now gone, who
was made so great a blessing while he lived, should engage
us to show respect and kindness to his family. This we
should do both out of respect to him and to his father,
your former eminent pastor, who in his day was in a
remarkable manner a father to this part of the land in
spirituals, and especially to this town, as this his son has
been in temporals. — God greatly resented it, when the
children of Israel did not show kindness to the house of
Jerubbaal that had been made an instrument of so much
good to them, Judges viii. 35. " Neither showed they
kindness to the house of Jerubbaal, according to all the
good which he had showed unto Israel."

Serm. V.

TRUE GRACE DISTINGUISHED, &c.

41

SERMON V.*
TRUE GRACE DISTINGUISHED FROM THE EXPERIENCE OF DEVILS.

James ii. 19.
Tlwu believest that there is one God ; thou dost well : the
devils also believe, and tremble.
Observe in these words, — 1. Something that some
depended on, as an evidence of their good estate and
acceptance, as the objects of God's favour, viz. a specula
tive faith, or belief of the doctrines of religion. The great
doctrine of the existence of one only God is particularly
mentioned ; probably, because this was a doctrine wherein,
especially, there was a visible and noted distinction be
tween professing Christians and the heathens, amongst
whom the Christians in those days were dispersed. And
therefore, this was what many trusted in, as what recom
mended them to, or at least was an evidence of their
interest in, the great spiritual and eternal privileges, in
which real Christians were distinguished from the rest of
the world.
2. How much is allowed concerning this faith, viz.
That it is a good attainment ; " Thou dost well." It was
good, as it was necessary. This doctrine was one of the
fundamental doctrines of Christianity ; and, in some
respects, above all others fundamental. It was necessary
to be believed, in order to salvation. To be without the
belief of this doctrine, especially in those that had such
advantage to know as they had to whom the apostle wrote,
would be a great sin, and what would vastly aggravate
their damnation. This belief was also good, as it had a
good tendency in many respects.
3. What is implicitly denied concerning it, viz. That it
is any evidence of a person's being in a state of salvation.
The whole context shows this to be the design of the
apostle in the words. And it is particularly manifest by
the conclusion of the verse ; which is,
4. The thing observable in the words, viz. The argument
by which the apostle proves, that this is no sign of a state
of grace, viz. that it is found in the devils. They believe
that there is one God, and that he is a holy, sin-hating
God ; and that he is a God of truth, and will fulfil his
threatenings, by which he has denounced future judg
ments, and a great increase of misery on them ; and that
he is an almighty God, and able to execute his threatened
vengeance upon them.
'Inerefore, the doctrine I infer from the words to make
the subject of my present discourse, is this, viz. Nothing
in the mind of man, that is of the same nature with what
the devils experience, or are the subjects of, is any sure
sign of saving grace.
If there be any thing that the devils have, or find in
themselves, which is an evidence of the saving grace of
the Spirit of God, then the apostle's argument is not good ;
which is plainly this : " That which is in the devils, or
which they do, is no certain evidence of grace. But the
devils believe that there is one God. Therefore, thy
believing that there is one God, is no sure evidence that
thou art gracious." So that the whole foundation of the
apostle's argument lies in that proposition : " That which
is in the devils, is no certain sign of grace." — Neverthe
less, I shall mention two or three further reasons, or argu
ments of the truth of this doctrine.
I. The devils have no degree of holiness : and there
fore those things which are nothing beyond what they are
the subjects of, cannot be holy experiences.
The devil once was holy ; but when he fell, he lost all
his holiness, and became perfectly wicked. He is the
greatest sinner, and in some sense the father of all sin.
* Preached before the Synod of New York, convened at Newark, in

John viii. 44. " Ye are of your father the devil, and the
lusts of your father ye will do : he was a murderer from
the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there
was net truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he
speaketh of his own : for he is a liar, and the father of
it." 1 John iii. 8. " He that committeth sin is of the
devil ; for the devil sinneth from the beginning." He is
often spoken of, by way of eminence, as " the wicked
one." So, Matt. xiii. 19. " Then cometh the wicked
one, and catcheth away that which was sown in his
heart." Ver. 38. " The tares are the children \>f the
wicked one." 1 John ii. 13. " I write unto you, young
men, because ye have overcome the wicked one." Chap.
iii. 12. " Not as Cain, who was of that wicked one."
Chap. v. 18. " Whosoever is born of God — keepeth him
self, and that wicked one toucheth him not. So the
devils are called evil spirits, unclean spirits, powers of
darkness, rulers of the darkness of this world, and wicked
ness itself. Eph. vi. 12. " For we wrestle not against
flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers,
against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against
spiritual wickedness in high places."
Therefore, surely, those things which the minds of
devils are the subjects of, can have nothing of the nature
of true holiness in them. The knowledge and under
standing which they have of the things of God and reli
gion, cannot be of the nature of divine and holy light, nor
any knowledge that is merely of the same kind. No
impressions made on their hearts, can be of a spiritual
nature. That kind of sense which they have of divine
things, however great, cannot be a holy sense. Such
affections as move their hearts, however powerful, cannot
be holy affections. If there be no holiness in them as
they are in the devil, there can be no holiness in them as
they are in man ; unless something be added to thein
beyond what is in the devil. And if any thing be added
to them, then they are not the same things ; but are some
thing beyond what devils are the subjects of ; which is
contrary to the supposition ; for the proposition which I
am upon is, that those things which are of the same
nature, and nothing beyond what devils are the subjects
of, cannot be holy experiences. It is not the subject that
makes the affection, or experience, or quality holy ; but it
is the quality that makes the subject holy.
And if those qualities and experiences which the devils
are the subjects of, have nothing of the nature of holiness
in them, then they can be no certain signs, that persons
which have them are holy or gracious. There is no certain
sign of true grace, but those things which are spiritual and
gracious. It is God's image that is his seal and mark, the
stamp by which those that are his are known. But that
which has nothing of the nature of holiness, has nothing of
this image. That which is a sure sign of grace, must
either be something which has the nature and essence of
grace, or flows from, or some way belongs to, its essence :
for that which distinguishes things one from another is the
essence, or something appertaining to their essence. And
therefore, that which is sometimes found wholly without
the essence of holiness or grace, can be no essential, sure,
or distinguishing mark of grace.
II. The devils are not only absolutely without all true
holiness, but they are not so much as the subjects of any
common grace.
If any should imagine, that some things may be signs
of grace which are not grace itself, or which have nothing
of the nature and essence of grace and holiness in them ;
yet, certainly they will allow, that the qualifications which
are sure evidences of grace, must be things that are near
akin to grace, or having some remarkable affinity with it.
New Jersey, on September 28, N. S. 1752.

42

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

But the devils are not only wholly destitute of any true
holiness, but they are at the greatest distance from it, and
have nothing in them in any wise akin to it.
There are many in this world who are wholly destitute
of saving grace, who yet have common grace. They have
no true holiness, but nevertheless have something of that
which is called moral virtue ; and are the subjects of some
degree ofthe common influences of the Spirit of God. It
is so with those in general that live under the light of the
gospel, and are not given up to judicial blindness and
hardness. Yea, those that are thus given up, yet have
some degree of restraining grace while they live in this
world ; without which the earth could not bear them, and
they would in no measure be tolerable members of human
society. But when any are damned, or cast into hell, as
the devils are, God wholly withdraws his restraining grace,
and all merciful influences of his Spirit whatsoever. They
have neither saving grace nor common grace ; neither the
grace of the Spirit, nor any of the common gifts of the
Spirit ; neither true holiness, nor moral virtue of any kind.
Hence arises the vast increase of the exercise of wicked
ness in the hearts of men when they are damned. And
herein is the chief difference between the damned in hell,
and unregenerate and graceless men in this world. Not
that wicked men in tiiis world have any more holiness or
true virtue than the damned, or have wicked men, when
they leave this world, any principles of wickedness infused
into them : but when men are cast into hell, God perfectly
takes away his Spirit from them, as to all its merciful
common influences, and entirely withdraws from them all
restraints of' is Spirit and good providence.
III. It is unreasonable to suppose, that a person's
being in any respect as the devil is, should be a certain
sign that he is very unlike and opposite to him, and here
after shall not have his part with him. True saints are
extremely uniike and contrary to the devil, both relatively
and really. They are so relatively. The devil is the grand
rebel ; the chief enemy of God and Christ ; the object of
God's greatest wrath ; a condemned malefactor, utterly re
jected and cast off by him ; for ever shut out of his
presence ; the prisoner of his justice ; an everlasting in
habitant of the infernal world. The saints, on the contrary,
are the citizens of the heavenly Jerusalem ; members of
the family of the glorious King of heaven ; the children
of God ; the brethren and spouse of his dear Son ; heirs
of God ; joint-heirs with Christ ; kings and priests unto
God. And they are extremely different really. The devil,
on account of his hateful nature, and those accursed dis
positions which reign in him, is called Satan, the adver
sary, Abaddon and Apollyon, the great destroyer, the
wolf, the roaring lion, the great dragon, the old serpent.
The saints are represented as God's holy ones, his anoint
ed ones, the excellent of the earth ; the meek ofthe earth ;
lambs and doves ; Christ's little children ; having the
image of God, pure in heart ; God's jewels ; lilies in
Christ's garden ; plants of paradise ; stars of heaven ;
temples of the living God. The saints, so far as they are
saints, are as diverse from the devil, as heaven is from
hell ; and much more contrary than light is to darkness :
and the eternal state that they are appointed to, is answer-
ably diverse and contrary.
Now, it is not reasonable to suppose, that being in any
respect as Satan is, or being the subject of any of the
same properties, qualifications, affections, or actions, that
are in him, is any certain evidence that persons are thus
exceeding different from him, and in circumstances so
diverse, and appointed to an eternal state so extremely
contrary in all respects. Wicked men are in Scripture
called the children of the devil. Now is it reasonable to
Suppose, that men's being in any respect as the devil is,
can be a certain sign, that they are not his children, but
the children of the infinitely holy and blessed God ? We
are informed, that wicked men shall hereafter have their
part with devils ; shall be sentenced to the same everlast
ing fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels.
Now, can a man's being like the devil in any respect oe a
sure token that he shall not have his part with him, but
with glorious angels, and with Jesus Christ, dwelling with
him, where he is, that he may behold and partake of his
glory ?

IMPROVEMENT.
The first use may lie in several inferences, for our in
struction. , . - . ,
I. From what has been said, it may be inferred, by
parity of reason, that nothing that damned men do, or ever
will experience, can be any sure sign of grace.
Damned men are like the devils, are conformed to
them in nature and state. They have nothing better in
them than the devils, have no higher principles in their
hearts ; experience nothing, and do nothing, of a more ex
cellent kind ; as they are the children and servants of the
devil, and as such, shall dwell with him, and be partakers
with him ofthe same misery. As Christ says, concerning
the saints in their future state, Matt. xxii. 30. " That they
shall be as the angels of God in heaven ;" so it may be
said concerning ungodly men in their future state, that
they shall be as the fallen, wicked angels in hell.
Each of the forementioned reasons, given to show the
truth ofthe doctrine with respect to devils, holds good with
respect to damned men. Damned men have no degree of
holiness ; and therefore those things which are nothing be
yond what they have, cannot be holy experiences. Damned
men are not only absolutely destitute of all true holiness,
but they have not so much as any common grace. And
lastly, it is unreasonable to suppose, that a person's being
in any respect as the damned in hell are, should be a cer
tain sign that they are very unlike and opposite to them,
and hereafter shall not have their portion with them.
II. We may hence infer, that no degree of speculative
knowledge of things of religion is any certain sign of saying
grace. The devil, before his fall, was among those bright
and glorious angels of heaven, which are represented as
morning-stars, and flames of fire, that excel in strength and
wisdom. And though he be now become sinful, yet his
sin has not abolished the faculties of the angelic nature ;
as when man fell, he did not lose the faculties ofthe human
nature. — Sin destroys spiritual principles, but not the
natural faculties. It is true, sin, when in full dominion,
entirely prevents the exercise of the natural faculties in
holy and spiritual understanding; and lays many impedi
ments in the way of their proper exercise in other respects.
It lays the natural faculty of reason under great disadvan
tages, by many and strong prejudices ; and in fallen men
the faculties of the soul are, doubtless, greatly impeded in
their exercise, through that great weakness and disorder of
the corporeal organ to which it is strictly united, and
which is the consequence of sin. — But there seems to be
nothing in the nature of sin, or moral corruption, that has
any tendency to destroy the natural capacity, or even to
diminish it, properly speaking. If sin were of such a
nature as necessarily to nave that tendency and effect ; then
it might be expected, that wicked men, in a future state,
where they are given up entirely to the unrestrained exer
cise of their corruptions and lusts, and sin is in all respects
brought to its greatest perfection in them, would have the
capacity of their souls greatly diminished. This we have
no reason to suppose ; but rather, on the contrary, that
their capacities are greatly enlarged, and that their actual
knowledge is vastly increased ; and that even with respect
to the Divine Being, and the things of religion, and the
great concerns of the immortal souls of men, the eyes of
wicked men are opened, when they go into another world.
The greatness of the abilities of devils may be argued,
from the representation in Eph. vi. 12. " We wrestle not
against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against
powers," &c. The same may also be argued from what
the Scripture says of Satan's subtlety. Gen. iii. 1. 2 Cor.
xi. 3. Acts xiii. 10. And as the "devil has a faculty of
understanding of large capacity, so he is capable of a great
speculative knowledge of the things of God, and the
invisible and eternal world, as well as other things ; and
must needs actually have a great understanding of these
things; as these have always been chiefly in his view;
and as his circumstances, from his first existence, have
been such as have tended chiefly to engage him to attend
to these things. Before his fall, he was one of those
angels who continually beheld the face of the Father in
heaven : and sin has no tendency to destroy the memory,

Serm. V.

TRUE GRACE DISTINGUISHED, &c.

43

and therefore has no tendency to blot out of it any specu
lative knowledge that was formerly there.
As the devil s subtlety shows his great capacity ; so the
way in which his subtlety is exercised and manifested —
which is principally in his artful management with respect
to things of religion, his exceeding subtle representations,
insinuations, reasonings, and temptations, concerning these
things— demonstrates his great actual understanding of
them ; as, in order to be a very artful disputant in any
science, though it be only to confound and deceive such as
are conversant in it, a person had need to have a great and
extensive acquaintance with the things which pertain to
that science.
Thus the devil has undoubtedly a great degree of specu
lative knowledge in divinity; having been, as it were,
educated in the best divinity school in the universe, viz.
the heaven of heavens. He must needs have such an
extensive and accurate knowledge concerning the nature
and attributes of God, as we, worms of the dust, in our
present state, are not capable of. And he must have a far
more extensive knowledge of the works of God, as of the
work of creation in particular; for he was a spectator of
the creation of this visible world ; he was one of those
morning-stars (Job xxxviii. 4 — 7.) "who sang together,
and of those sons of God, that shouted for joy, when God
laid the foundations of the earth, and laid the measures
thereof, and stretched the line upon it." And so he must
have a very great knowledge of God's works of providence.
He has been a spectator of the series of these works from
the beginning ; he has seen how God has governed the
world in all ages ; and he has seen the whole train of God's
wonderful successive dispensations of providence towards
his church, from generation to generation. And he has
not been an indifferent spectator ; but the great opposition
between God and him, in the whole course of those dis
pensations, has necessarily engaged his attention in the
strictest observation of them. He must have a great
degree of knowledge concerning Jesus Christ as the
Saviour of men, and the nature and method of the work
of redemption, and the wonderful wisdom of God in this
contrivance. It is that work of God wherein, above all
others, God has acted in opposition to him, and in which
he has chiefly set himself in opposition to God. It is with
relation to this affair, that the mighty warfare has been
maintained, which has been carried on between Michael
and his angels, and the devil and his angels, through all
ages from the beginning of the world, and especially since
Christ appeared. The devil has had enough to engage his
attention to the steps of divine wisdom in this work ; for it
is to that wisdom he has opposed his subtlety ; and he has
seen and found, to his great disappointment and unspeak
able torment, how divine wisdom, as exercised in that
work, has baffled and confounded his devices. He has a
great knowledge of the things of another world ; for the
things of that world are in his immediate view. He has a
great knowledge of heaven ; for he has been an inhabitant
of that world of glory : and he has a great knowledge of
hell, and the nature of its misery ; for he is the first in
habitant of hell ; and above all the other inhabitants, has
experience of its torments, and has felt them constantly, for
more than fifty-seven hundred years. He must have a
great knowledge of the Holy Scriptures ; for it is evident
he is not hindered from knowing what is written there, by
the use he made of the words of Scripture in his tempt
ation of our Saviour. And if he can know, he has much
opportunity to know, and must needs have a disposition
to know, with the greatest exactness ; that he may, to
greater effect, pervert and wrest the Scripture, and prevent
such an effect of the word of God on the hearts of men,
as shall tend to overthrow his kingdom. He must have a
great knowledge of the nature of mankind, their capacity,
their dispositions, and the corruptions of their hearts ; for
he has had long and great observation and experience.
The heart of man is what he had chiefly to do with, in his
subtle devices, mighty efforts, restless and indefatigable
operations and exertions of himself, from the beginning of
the world. And it is evident that he has a great specu
lative knowledge of the nature of experimental religion,
by his being able to imitate it so artfully, and in such a
manner as to transform himself into an angel of light.

Therefore it is manifest, from my text and doctrine, that
no degree of speculative knowledge of religion is any
certain sign of true piety. Whatever clear notions a man
may have of the attributes of God, the doctrine of the
Trinity, the nature of the two covenants, the economy of
the persons ofthe Trinity, and the part which each person
has in the affair of man's redemption ; if he can discourse
never so excellently of the offices of Christ, and the way
of salvation by him, and the admirable methods of divine
wisdom, and the harmony of the various attributes of God
in that way ; if he can talk never so clearly and exactly of
the method of the justification of a sinner, and of the
nature of conversion, and the operations of the Spirit of
God, in applying the redemption of Christ ; giving good
distinctions, happily solving difficulties, and answering
objections, in a manner tending greatly to enlighten the
ignorant, to the edification of the church of God, and the
conviction of gainsayers, and the great increase of light in
the world : if he has more knowledge of this sort than
hundreds of true saints of an ordinary education, and
most divines ; yet all is no certain evidence of any degree
of saving grace in the heart.
It is true, the Scripture often speaks of knowledge of
divine things, as what is peculiar to true saints; as in
John xvii. 3. " This is life eternal, that they might know
thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast
sent." Matt. xi. 27. " No man knoweth the Son, but the
Father : neither knoweth any man the Father, save the
Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him."
Ps. ix. 10. " They that know thy name will put their trust
in thee." Philip! iii. 8. " I count all things but loss, for
the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my
Lord." But then, we must understand it of a different
kind of knowledge from that speculative understanding
which the devil has to so great a degree. It will also be
allowed, that the spiritual saving knowledge of God and
divine things, greatly promotes speculative knowledge, as
it engages the mind in its search into things of this kind,
and much assists to a distinct understanding of them ; so
that, other things being equal, they who have spiritual
knowledge, are much more likely than others to have a
good doctrinal acquaintance with things of religion ; but
yet such acquaintance may be no distinguishing charac
teristic of true saints.
III. It may also be inferred from what has been ob
served, that for persons merely to yield a speculative- assent
to the doctrines of religion as true, is no certain evidence
of a state of grace. My text tells us, that the devils be
lieve ; and as they believe that there is one God, so they
believe the truth of the doctrines of religion in general.
The devil is orthodox in his faith ; he believes the true
scheme of doctrine; he is no Deist, Socinian, Arian,
Pelagian, or antinomian ; the articles of his faith are all
sound, and in them he is thoroughly established.
Therefore, for a person to believe the doctrines of Chris
tianity merely from the force of arguments, as discerned
only by speculation, is no evidence of grace.
It is probably a very rare thing for unregenerate men to
have a strong persuasion of the truth of the doctrines of
religion, especially such of them as are very mysterious,
and much above the comprehension of reason. Yet if he
be very confident of the truth of Christianity and it-
doctrines, and is able to argue most strongly for the proof
of them, in this he goes nothing beyond the devil ; who
doubtless has a great knowledge of the rational arguments
by which the truth of the christian religion and its several
principles are evinced.
And therefore when the Scripture speaks of believing
that Jesus is the Son qf God, as a. sure evidence of grace,
as in 1 John v. 1 . and other place. , it must be understood,
not of a mere speculative assent, but of another kind and
manner of believing, which is called the faith of God's
elect, Titus i. 1. There is a spiritual conviction of the
truth, which is a believing with thi3 whole heart, peculiar
to true saints ; of which I shall sptiak more particularly.
IV. It may be inferred from the doctrine which has
been insisted on, that it is no certain', sign of persons being
savingly converted; that they have been subjects of very
great distress and terrors of mind, through apprehensions
of God's wrath, and fears of damnation.

44

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

That the devils are the subjects of great terrors, through
apprehensions of God's wrath, and fears of its future
effects, is implied in my text ; which speaks not only of
their believing, but trembling. It must be no small degree
of terror which should make those principalities and
powers, those mighty, proud, and sturdy beings, to tremble.
There are many terrors that some persons who are con
cerned for their salvation, are the subjects of, which are
not from any proper awakenings of conscience, or appre
hensions of truth, but from melancholy or frightful im
pressions on their imagination ; or some groundless ap
prehensions, and the delusions and false suggestions of
Satan. But if they have had never so great and long-
continued terrors from real awakenings, and convictions of
truth, and views of things as they are, this is no more than
what is in the devils, and will be in all wicked men in
another world. However stupid and senseless most un
godly men are now, all will be effectually awakened at
last. There will be no such thing as slumbering in hell.
There are many that cannot be awakened by the most
solemn warnings and awful threatenings of the word of
God — the most alarming discourses from the pulpit, and
the most awakening and awful providences — but all will
be thoroughly awakened by the sound of the last trumpet,
and the appearance of Christ to judgment. All sorts will
then be filled with most amazing terrors, from apprehen
sions of truth, and seeing things as they are ; when "the
kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men,
and the chief captains, and the mighty men, (such as were
the most ofty and stout-hearted, most readv to treat the
things of religion with contempt,) shall hide memselves in
the dens, and in the rocks of the mountains ; and say to
the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from
the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the
wrath of the Lamb :. for the great day of his wrath is
come ; and who shall be able to stand ? Rev. vi. 1 5 — 1 7.
— Therefore if persons have been first awakened, and
afterwards have had comfort and joy, it is no certain sign
that their comforts are of the right hand, because they
were preceded by very great terrors.
V. It may be further inferred from the doctrine, That
no work qf the law on men's hearts, in conviction of guilt,
and just desert of punishment, is a sure argument that a
person has been savingly converted.
Not only are no awakenings and terrors any certain
evidence of this, but no mere legal work whatsoever,
though carried to the utmost extent. Nothing wherein
there is no grace or spiritual light, but only the mere con
viction of natural conscience, and those acts and operations
of the mind which are the result of this — and so are, as it
were, merely forced by the clear light of conscience, with
out the concurrence of the heart and inclination with that
light — is any certain sign of the saving grace of God, or
that a person was ever savingly converted.
The evidence of this, from my text and doctrine, is de
monstrative ; because the devils are the subjects of these
things ; and all wicked men that shall finally perish, will
be the subjects of the same. Natural conscience is not
extinguished in the damned in hell ; but, on the contrary,
remains there in its greatest strength, and is brought to its
most perfect exercise ; most fully to do its proper office as
God's vicegerent in the soul, to condemn those rebels
against the King of heaven and earth, and manifest God's
just wrath and vengeance, and by that means to torment
them, and be as a never-dying worm within them.
Wretched men find means in this world to blind tlie eyes
and stop the mouth of this vicegerent of a sin-revenging
God ; but they shall not be able to do it always. In an
other world, the eyes and mouth of conscience will be
fully opened. God will hereafter make wicked men to
see and know these things from which now they industri
ously hide their eyes, Isa. xxvi. 10, 11. "Let favour be
showed to the wicked, yet will he not learn righteousness :
in the land of uprightness will he deal unjustly, and will
not behold the majesty of the Lord. Lord, when thy
hand is lifted up, they will not see : but they shall see,
and be ashamed for their envy at the people, yea, the fire
of thine enemies shall devour them." We have this ex
pression often annexed to God's threatenings of wrath to
his enemies ; " And they shall know that I am the Lord : "

this shall be accomplished by their woful experience, and
clear light in their consciences, whereby they shall be
made to know, whether they will or not, how great and
terrible, holy and righteous, a God Jehovah is, whose
authority they have despised ; and they shall know that
he is righteous and holy in their destruction. This all the
ungodly will be convinced of at the day of judgment, by
the bringing to light of all their wickedness of neart and
practice ; and setting all their sins, with all their aggrava
tions, in order, not only in the view of others, even of the
whole world, but in the view of their own consciences.
This is threatened, Psalm 1.21. " These things thou hast
done, and I kept silence : thou thoughtest that I was
altogether such a one as thyself: but I will reprove thee,
and set them in order before thine eyes." Compare this
with the four first verses of the psalm.— The design of the
day of judgment is not to find out what is just, as it is
with human judgments ; but it is to manifest what is just ;
to make known God's justice in the judgment which he
will execute, to men's own consciences, and to the world.
And therefore that day is called " the day of wrath, and
revelation of the righteous judgment of God," Rom. ii. 5.
Now sinners often cavil against the justice of God's dis
pensations, and particularly the punishment which he
threatens for their sins ; excusing themselves, and con-
demning him : but when God comes to manifest their
wickedness in the light of that day, and to call them to
an account, they will be speechless; Matt. xxii. 11, 12.
"And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw
there a man which had not on a wedding-garment. And
he saith unto him, Friend, how earnest thou in hither, not
having a wedding-garment? And he was speechless."
When the King of heaven and earth comes to judgment,
their consciences will be so perfectly enlightened and con
vinced by the all-searching Light they shall then stand
in, that their mouths will be effectually stopped, as to all
excuses for themselves, all pleading of their own righteous
ness to excuse or justify them, and all objections against
the justice of their Judge, that their conscience will con
demn them only, and not God.
Therefore it follows from the doctrine, That it can be no
certain sign of grace, that persons have had great convic
tions of sin. Suppose they have had their sins of life,
with their aggravations, remarkably set before them, so as
greatly to affect and terrify them ; and withal, have had a
great sight of the wickedness of their hearts, the greatness
of the sin of unbelief, and of the unexcusableness and
heinousness of their most secret spiritual iniquities. Per
haps they have been convinced of the utter insufficiency
of their own righteousness, and they despair of being
recommended to God by it; have been convinced that
they are wholly without excuse before God, and deserve
damnation ; and that God would be just in executing the
threatened punishment upon them, though it be so dread
ful. All these things will be in the ungodly at the day of
judgment, when they shall stand with devils, at the left
hand, and shall be doomed as accursed to everlasting fire
with them.
Indeed there will be no submission in them. Their
conscience will be convinced that God is just in their con
demnation ; but yet their wills will not be bowed to God's
justice. There will be no acquiescence of mind in that
divine attribute ; no yielding of the soul to God's sove
reignty, but the highest degree of enmity and opposition.
A true submission of the heart and will to the justice and
sovereignty of God, is therefore allowed to be something
peculiar to true converts, being something which the devils
and damned souls are and ever will be fer from ; and to
which a mere work of the law, and convictions of con
science, however great and clear, will never bring men.
When sinners are the subjects of great convictions of
conscience, and a remarkable work of the law, it is only
transacting the business of the day of judgment in the con
science before-hand. God sits enthroned in the con
science, as at the last day he will sit enthroned in the
clouds of heaven ; the sinner is arraigned as it were at
God's bar ; and God appears in his awful greatness, as a
just and holy, sin-hating and sin-revenging, God, as he
will then. The sinner's iniquities are brought to light ;
his sins set in order before him ; the hidden things of,

Serm. V.

TRUE GRACE DISTINGUISHED, &c.

45

darkness, and the counsels of the heart are made manifest,
as it will be then. Many witnesses do as it were rise up
against the sinner under convictions of conscience, as they
will against the wicked at the day of judgment ; and the
books are opened, particularly thebook of God's strict and
holy law is opened in the conscience, and its rules applied
for the condemnation of the sinner ; which is the book
that will be opened at the day of judgment, as the grand
rule to all such wicked men as have lived under it. And
the sentence of the law is pronounced against the sinner,
and the justice of the sentence made manifest, as it will be
at the day of judgment. The conviction of a sinner at
the day of judgment will be a work of the law, as well as
the conviction of conscience in this world : and the work
of the law (if the work be merely legal) is never carried
further in the consciences of sinners now than it will be at
that day, when its work will be perfect in thoroughly stop
ping the sinner's mouth ; Rom. iii. 19. " Now we know
that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who
are under the law ; that every mouth may be stopped, and
all the world may become guilty before God. ' Every
mouth shall be stopped by the law, either now or here
after ; and all the world shall become sensibly guilty be
fore God, guilty of death, deserving of damnation. — And
therefore, if sinners have been the subjects of a great work
of the law, and have thus become guilty, and their mouths
have been stopped ; it is no certain sign that ever they
have been converted.
Indeed the want of a thorough sense of guilt, and desert
of punishment, and conviction of the justice of God in
threatening damnation, is a sign that a person never was
converted, and truly brought with the whole soul to em
brace Christ as a Savipur from this punishment : for it is
easily demonstrable, that there is no such thing as entirely
and cordially accepting an offer of a Saviour from a
Eunishment which we think we do not deserve. But
aving such a conviction is no certain sign that persons
have true faith, or have ever truly received Christ as their
Saviour. And if persons have great comfort, joy, and
confidence suddenly let into their minds, after great con
victions, it is no infallible evidence that their comforts are
built on a good foundation.
It is manifest, therefore, that too much stress has been
laid by many persons on a great work of the law preceding
their comforts, who seem not only to have looked on such
a work ofthe law as necessary to precede faith, but also to
have esteemed it as the chief evidence of the truth and
genuineness of succeeding faith and comforts. By this
means it is to be feared very many have been deceived,
and established in a false hope. And what is to be seen
in the event of things, in multitudes of instances, confirms
this. It may be safely allowed that it is not so usual for
great convictions of conscience to prove abortive, and fail
of a good issue, as for lesser convictions ; and that more
generally when the Spirit of God proceeds so far with sin
ners, in the work of the law, as to give them a great sight
of their hearts, and of the heinousness of their spiritual
iniquities; and to convince them that they are without
excuse ; — and that all their righteousness can do nothing
to merit God's favour ; but they lie justly exposed to
God's eternal vengeance with mercy — a work of saving
conversion follows. But we can have no warrant to say,
it is universally so, or to lay it down as an infallible rule,
that when convictions of conscience have gone thus far,
saving faith and repentance will surely follow. If any
should think they have ground for such a determination,
because they cannot conceive what end God should have,
in carrying a work of conviction to such a length, and so
preparing the heart for faith, and after all, never giving
saving faith to the soul ; I desire it may be considered,
where will be the end of our doubts and difficulties, if we
think ourselves sufficient to determine so positively and
particu arly concerning God's ends and designs in what he
does. It may be asked such an objector; what is God's
end in giving a sinner any degree of the strivings of his
Spirit, and conviction of conscience, when he afterwards
suffers it to come to nothing ?
If he may give some degree that may finally be in vain,
who shall set the bounds, and say how great the degree
shall be? Who can, on sure grounds, determine, that

when a sinner has so much of that conviction which the
devils and damned in hell have, true faith and eternal
salvation will be the certain consequence ? This we may
certainly determine, that, if the apostle's argument in the
text be good, not any thing whatsoever that the devils have
is certainly connected with such a consequence. Seeing
sinners, while such, are capable of the most perfect convic
tions, and will have them at the day of judgment, and in
hell ; who shall say, that God never shall cause reprobates
to anticipate the future judgment and damnation in that
respect ? And if he does so, who shall say to him, What
dost thou ? or call him to account concerning his ends
in so doing ? Not but that many possible wise ends might
be thought of, and mentioned, if it were needful, or I had
now room for it. — The Spirit of God is often quenched by
the exercise of the wickedness of men's hearts, after he has
gone far in a work of conviction , so that their convictions
never have a good issue. And who can say that sinners,
by the exercise of their opposition and enmity against God,
which is not at all mortified by the greatest legal convic
tions, neither in the damned in hell nor sinners on earth,
may not provoke God to take his Spirit from them, even
after he has proceeded the greatest length in a work of con
viction ? Who can say, that God never is provoked to
destroy some, after he has brought them, as it were, through
the wilderness, even to the edge of the land of rest ? As
he slew some of the Israelites, even in the plains of Moab.
And let it be considered, where is our warrant in Scrip
ture, to make use of any legal convictions, or any method
or order of successive events in a work of the law, and
consequent comforts, as a sure sign of regeneration. The
Scripture is abundant, in expressly mentioning evidences
of grace, and of a slate of favour with God, as characteris
tics of true saints. But where do we ever find such things
as these amongst those evidences ? Or where do we find
any other signs insisted on, besides grace itself, its nature,
exercises, and fruits ? These were the evidences that Job
relied upon : these were the things that the psalmist every
where insists upon as evidences of his sincerity, and par
ticularly in the 119th Psalm, from the beginning to the
end : these were the signs that Hezekiah trusted to in his
sickness. These were the characteristics of those that are truly
happy given by our Saviour in the beginning of his sermon
on the mount. These are the things lhat Christ mentions,
as the true evidences of being his real disciples, in his last
and dying discourse to his disciples, in the 14th, 15th,
and 16th chapters of John, and in his intercessory prayer,
chap. xvii. These are the things which the apostle Paul
often speaks of as evidences of his sincerity, and sure title
to a crown of glory. And these are the things he often
mentions to others, in his epistles, as the proper evidences
of real Christianity, a justified state, and a title to glory.
He insists on the fruits of the Spirit ; love, joy, peace,
long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, tem
perance ; as the proper evidences of being Christ's, and
living in the Spirit: Gal. v. 22 — 25. It is that charity,
or divine love, which is pure, peaceable, gentle, easy to be
entreated, full of mercy, &c. that he insists on, as the most
essential evidence of true godliness ; without which, all
other things are nothing. Such are the signs which the
apostle James insists on, as the proper evidence of a
truly wise and good man : James iii. 1 7. " The wisdom
that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and
easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without
partiality, and without hypocrisy." And such are the
signs of true Christianity, which the apostle John insists
on throughout his epistles. And we never have any where
in the Bible, from the beginning to the end of it, any other
signs of godliness given, than such as these. If persons
have such things as these apparently in them, it ought to
be determined that they are truly converted, without its
being first known what method the Spirit of God took to
introduce these things into the soul, which oftentimes is
altogether untraceable. All the works of God are in some
respects unsearchable ; but the Scripture often represents
the works of the Spirit of God as peculiarly so : Isa. xl.
13. " Who hath directed the Spirit of the Lord, or being
his counsellor, hath taught him?" Eccles. xi. 5. " As
thou knowest not what is the wav of the Spirit, nor how

46

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child :
so thou knowest not the works of God, who maketh all."
John in. 8. " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou
hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it
cometh, and whither it goeth : so is every one that is born
of the Spirit."
VI. It follows from my text and doctrine, That it is no
certain sign of grace, that persons have earnest desires and
longings after salvation.
The devils, doubtless, long for deliverance from the
misery they suffer, and from that greater misery which they
expect. If they tremble through fear of it, they must,
necessarily, earnestly desire to be delivered from it. Wick
ed men are, in Scripture, represented as longing for the
privileges of the righteous, when the door is shut, and they
are shut out from among them : they come to the door,
and cry, Lord, Lord, open to us. Therefore, we are not to
look on all desires that are very earnest and vehement, as
certain evidences of a pious heart. There are earnest de
sires of a religious nature, which the saints have, that are
the proper breathings of a new nature, and distinguishing
qualities of true saints : but there are also longings, which
unregenerate men mav have, which are often mistaken for
marks of godliness. They think they hunger and thirst after
righteousness, and have earnest desires after God and
Christ, and long for heaven; when, indeed, all is to be
resolved into self-love ; and so is a longing which arises
from no higher principles than the earnest desires of devils.
VII. It may be inferred from what has been observed,
That persons who have no grace may have a great appre
hension of an external glory in things heavenly and divine,
and of whatsoever is external pertaining to religion.
If persons have impressed strongly on their minds ideas
obtained by the external senses, whether by the ear, as any
kind of sound, pleasant music, or words spoken of excel
lent signification ; words of Scripture, suitable to their
case, or adapted to the subject of their meditations : or
ideas obtained by the eye, as of a visible beauty and glory,
a shining light, golden streets, gates of precious stone, a
most magnificent throne surrounded by angels and saints
in shining ranks : or any thing external belonging to Jesus
Christ, either in his humbled state, as hanging on the cross,
with his crown of thorns, his wounds open, and blood
trickling down ; or in his glorified state, with awful ma
jesty, or ravishing beauty and sweetness in his countenance ;
his face shining above the brightness of the sun, and the
like : these things are no certain signs of grace.
Multitudes that are now in hell, will have ideas of the
external glory that pertains to things heavenly, fer beyond
whatever any have in this world. They will see all that
external glory and beauty, in which Christ will appear at
the day of judgment, when the sun shall be turned into
darkness before him ; which, doubtless, will be ten thou
sand times greater than ever was impressed on the imagina
tion of either saints or sinners in this present state, or ever
was conceived by any mortal man.
VI 1 1. It may be inferred from the doctrine, That persons
who have no grace may have a very great and affecting
sense of many divine things on their hearts.
The devil has not only great speculative knowledge,
but he has a sense of many divine things, which deeply af
fects him, and is most strongly impressed on his heart. As,
1. The devils and damned souls have a great sense of
the vast importance of the things of another world. They
are in the invisible world, and they see and know how
great the things of that world are : their experience teaches
them in the most affecting manner. They have a great
sense of the worth of salvation, and the worth of immortal
souls, and the vast importance of those things that concern
men's eternal welfare. The parable in the latter end of the
16th chapter of Luke teaches this, in representing the rich
man in hell, as entreating that Lazarus might be sent to his
five brothers, to testify unto them, lest they should come
to that place of torment. They who endure the torments
of hell have doubtless a most lively and affecting sense of
the vastness of an endless eternity, and of the comparative
momentariness of this life, and the vanity of the concerns
and enjoyments of time.— They are convinced effectually,
that all the things of this world, even those that appear
greatest and most important to the inhabitants of the earth,

are despicable trifles, in comparison of the things of the
eternal world. They have a great sense of the precious
ness of time, and of the means of grace, and the inestimable
value of the privileges which they enjoy which live under
the gospel. They are fully sensible of the folly of those
that go on in sin; neglect their opportunities; make light
of the counsels and warnings of God ; and bitterly lament
their exceeding folly in their own sins, by which they have
brought on themselves so great and remediless misery.
When sinners, by woeful experience, know the dreadful
issue of their evil way, they will mourn at the last, saying,
How have I hated instruction, and my heart despised re
proof, and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor
inclined mine ear to them that instructed me ! Prov. iv. 11,
12,13. Therefore, however true godliness is attended with a
great sense of the importance of divine things — and it is
rare that men who have no grace maintain such a sense
in any steady and persevering manner — yet it is manifest
those things are no certain evidences of grace. Unre
generate men may have a sense of the importance of eter
nity, and the vanity of time ; the worth of immortal souls;
the preciousness of time and the means of grace, and the
folly of the way of allowed sin. They may have such a sense
of those things, as may deeply affect them, and cause them
to mourn for their own sins, and be' much concerned for
others ; though it be true, they have not these things in the
same manner, and in all respects from the same principles
and views, as godly men have them.
2. Devils and damned men have a strong and most
affecting sense of the awful greatness and majesty of God.
This is greatly made manifest in the execution of di
vine vengeance on his enemies. jRom. ix. 22. " What
if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his
power known, endured with much long-suffering the ves
sels of wrath fitted to destruction ?" The devils tremble
before this great and terrible God, and under a strong sense
of his awful majesty. It is greatly manifested to them
and damned souls now ; but shall be manifested in a fur
ther degree, in that day when the Lord Jesus shall be re
vealed from heaven in flaming fire, to take vengeance upon
them ; and when they shall earnestly desire to fly, and be
hid from the face of him that sits on the throne, (which
shall be, " because of the glory of his majesty," Isa. ii. 10.)
and when they shall be punished with everlasting destruc
tion, from the presence ofthe Lord, and from the glory of
his power. When Christ comes at the last day, in the giory
of his Father, every eye shall see him in that glory, (in
this respect, that they shall see his terrible majesty,) and
they also that pierced him. Rev. i. 7. Both those devils,
and wicked men, which tormented and insulted him when
he appeared in meanness and ignominy, shall then see him
in the glory of his Father.
It is evident, therefore, that a sense of God's terrible
majesty is no certain evidence of saving grace : for we see
that wicked men and devils are capable of it ; yea, many
wicked men in this world have actually had it. This is a
manifestation which God made of himself in the sight of
that wicked congregation at mount Sinai, which they saw,
and with which they were deeply affected, so that all the
people in the camp trembled.
3. Devils and damned men have some kind of convic
tion and sense of all attributes of God, both natural and
moral, that is strong and very affecting.
The devils know God's almighty power : they saw a
great manifestation of it, when they saw God lay the
foundation of the earth, &c. and were much affected with
it. They have seen innumerable other great demonstra
tions of his power ; as in the universal deluge, the de
struction of Sodom, the wonders in Egypt, at the Red
sea, and in the wilderness ; causing the sun to stand still
in Joshua's time, and many others. — And they had a very
affecting manifestation of God's mighty power on them
selves, in casting all their hosts down from heaven into
hell ; and have continual affecting experience of it, in
God's reserving them in strong chains of darkness, and in
the strong pains they feel. They will hereafter have fat
more affecting experience of it, when they shall be punish
ed from the glory of God's power, with that mighty de
struction in expectation of. which they now tremble. So

Serm. V.

TRUE GRACE DISTINGUISHED, &c.

¦17

the devils have a great knowledge of the wisdom of God :
they have had unspeakably more opportunity and occasion
to observe it in the work of creation, and also in the works
of providence, than any mortal man has ever had ; and
have been themselves the subjects of innumerable affecting
manifestations of it, in God's disappointing and confound
ing them in their most subtle devices, in so wonderful and
amazing a manner. So they see and find the infinite
purity and holiness of the divine nature, in the most affect
ing manner, as this appears in his infinite hatred of sin, in
what they feel of the dreadful effects of that hatred. They
know already by what they suffer, and will know hereafter
to a greater degree, and far more affecting manner, that
such is the opposition of God's nature to sin, that it is
like a consuming fire, which burns with infinite vehemence
against it. They also will see the holiness of God, as
exercised in his love to righteousness and holiness, in the
glory of Christ and his church ; which also will be very
affecting to devils and wicked men. And the exact justice
of God will be manifested to them in the clearest and
strongest, most convincing and most affecting, light, at the
day of judgment ; when they will also see great and af
fecting demonstrations of the riches of his grace, in the
marvellous fruits of his love to the vessels of mercy ; when
they shall see them at the right hand of Christ, saining as
the sun in the kingdom of their Father, and shall hear the
blessed sentence pronounced upon them ; and will be
deeply affected with it, as seems naturally implied in
Luke xiii. 28, 29. The devils know God's tndh, and
therefore they believe his threatenings, and tremble in ex
pectation of their accomplishment. And wicked men
that now doubt his truth, and dare not trust his word, will
hereafter, in the most convincing, affecting manner, find
his word to be true in all that he has threatened, and will
see that he is faithful to his promises in the rewards of his
saints. Devils and damned men know that God is eter
nal and unchangeable ; and therefore they despair of there
ever being an end to their misery. Therefore it is mani
fest, that merely persons having an affecting sense of some,
or even of all God's attributes, is no certain sign that they
have the true grace of God in their hearts.
Object. Here possibly some may object against the
force of the foregoing reasoning, That ungodly men in this
world are in exceeding different circumstances from those
in which the devils are, and from those which wicked men
will be in at the day of judgment. Those things which are
visible and present to these, are now future and invisible to
the other ; and wicked men in this world are in the body, that
clogs and hinders the soul, and are encompassed with ob
jects that blind and stupify them. Therefore it does not fol
low, that because the wicked in another world have a great
apprehension and lively sense of such things without grace,
ungodly men in their present state may have the same.
Ans. To this I answer : It is not supposed that ever
men in this life have all those things which have been
mentioned to the same degree that the devils and damned
have them. — None supposes that ever any in this life have
terrors of conscience to an equal degree with them. It is
not to be supposed that any mortal man, whether godly or
ungodly, has an equal degree of speculative knowledge
with the devil. And, as was just now observed, the
wicked at the day of judgment, will have a vastly greater
idea of the external glory of Christ than ever any have
in the present state. So, doubtless, they will have a far
greater sense of God's awful greatness and terrible majes
ty, than any could subsist under in this frail state. So we
may well conclude, that the devils and wicked men in
hell have a greater and more affecting sense of the vast-
ness of eternity, and (in some respects) a greater sense of
the importance of the things of another world, than any
here have ; and they have also longings after salvation to
a higher degree than any wicked men in this world.
But yet it is evident that men in this world may have
things of the same kind with devils and damned men ; the
same sort of light in the understanding ; the same views
and affections, the same sense of things, the same kind of
impressions on the mind aud on the heart. The objection
is against the conclusiveness of that reasoning which is
the apostle's more properly than mine. The apostle judged
it a- conclusive argument against such as thought their be

lieving there was one God an evidence of their being
gracious, that the devils believed the same. So the argu
ment is exactly the same against such as think they have
grace, because they believe God is a holy God,.or because
they have a sense of the awful majesty of God.— The
same may be observed of other things that have been
mentioned. My text has reference, not only to the act of
the understandings of devils in believing, but to that af
fection of their hearts which accompanies the views they
have ; as trembling is an effect of the affection of the heart.
Which shows, that if men have both the same views of
understanding, and also the same affections of heart, that
the devils have, it is no sign of grace.
And as to the particular degree to which these things
may be carried in men in this world without grace, it ap
pears not safe to make use of it as an infallible rule to
determine men's state. I know not where we have any
rule to go by, to fix the precise degree in which God by
his providence, or his common influences on the mind,
will excite in wicked men in this world, the same views
and affections which the wicked have in another world ;
which, it is manifest, the former are capable of as well as
the latter, having the same faculties and principles of soul ;
and which views and affections, it is evident, they often are
actually the subjects of in some degree, some in a greater and
some in a less degree. The infallible evidences of grace
which are laid down in Scripture are of another kind : they
are all of a holy and spiritual nature ; and therefore things
of that kind which a heart that is wholly carnal and corrupt
cannot receive or experience, 1 Cor.ii. 14. I might also here
add, that observation and experience, in very many instances,
seem to confirm what Scripture and reason teaches in these
things. The second use may be of self-examination.
Let the things which have ' been observed put all on
examining themselves, and inquiring, whether they have
any better evidences of saving grace, than such as have
been mentioned.
We see how the infallible Spirit of God, in the text,
plainly represents the things of which the devils are the
subjects, as no sure sign of grace. And we have now, in
some instances, observed how far the devils and damned
men go, and will go, in their experience, their knowledge
of divine things, their belief of truth, their awakenings
and terrors of conscience, their conviction of guilt, and of
the justice of God in their eternal dreadful damnation,
their longings after salvation, their sight of the external
glory of Christ and heavenly things, their sense of the
vast importance of the things of religion, and another
world ; their sense of the awful greatness and terrible
majesty of God, yea, of all God's attributes. These things
may well put us on serious self-examination, whether we
have any thing to evidence our good estate, beyond what
the devils have. Christ said to his disciples, " Except
your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the scribes
and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom
of heaven :" so the Spirit of Christ, in his apostle James,
does in effect say, in my text, Except what you experience
in your souls go beyond the experiences of devils, ye shall
in no case enter into the kingdom of God. >
Here, it may be, some will be ready to say, I have
something besides all these things ; what the devils have
not, even love and joy.
I answer, You may have something besides the experi
ences of devils, and yet nothing beyond them. Though
the experience be different, yet it may not be owing to any
different principle, but only the different circumstances
under which these principles are exercised. The princi
ples from whence the fore-mentioned things in devils and
damned men arise, are these two, natural understanding
and self-love. It is from these principles of natural un
derstanding and self-love, as exercised about their own
dispositions and actions, and God as their judge, that they
have natural conscience, and have such convictions of
conscience as have been spoken of. It is from these prin
ciples that they have such a sense of the importance of the
things of religion, and the eternal world, and such long
ings after salvation. It is from the joint exercise of these
two principles that they are so sensible of the awful
majesty of God, and of all die attributes of the divine

48

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

nature, and so greatly affected with them. And it is from
these principles, joined with external sense, the wicked, at
the day of judgment, will have so great an apprehension
of, and will be so greatly affected by, the external glory of
Christ and his saints. And that you have a kind of love,
or gratitude and joy, which devils and damned men have
not, may possibly not arise from any other principles in
your heart different from these two, but only from these
principles as exercised in different circumstances. As for
instance, your being a subject of the restraining grace of
God, and under circumstances of hope. The natural un
derstanding and self-love of devils possibly might affect
them in the same manner if they were in the same circum
stances. If your love to God has its first source from
nothing else than a supposed immediate divine witness, or
any other supposed evidence, that Christ died for you in
particular, and that God loves you ; it springs from no
higher principles than self-love ; which is a principle that
reigns in the hearts of devils. Self-love is sufficient, with
out grace, to cause men to love those that love them, or
that they imagine love them, and make much of them ;'
Luke vi. 32. " For if ye love them which love you, what
thank have you ? For sinners also love those that love
them." And would not the hearts of devils be filled with
great joy, if they, by any means, should take up a con
fident persuasion that God had pardoned them, and was
become their friend, and that they should be delivered
from that wrath of which they now are in trembling ex
pectation. If the devils go so far as you have heard, even
in their circumstances, being totally cast off, and given up
to unrestrained wickedness, being without hope, knowing
that God is and ever will be their enemy, they suffering
his wrath without mercy : how far may we reasonably
suppose they might go, in imitation of grace and pious
experience, if they had the same degree of knowledge, as
clear views, and as strong conviction, under circumstances
of hope, and offers of mercy ; and being the subjects of
common grace, restraining their corruptions, and assisting
and exciting the natural principles of reason, conscience,
&c. ! Such things, or any thing like them, in the heart of
a sinner in this world ; at the same time that he, from some
strong impression on his imagination, has suddenly, after
great terrors, imbibed a confidence, that now this great
God is his Friend and Father, has released him from all
the misery he feared, and has promised him eternal happi
ness : I say, such things would, doubtless, vastly heighten
his ecstasy of joy, and raise the exercise of natural grati
tude, (that principle from whence sinners love those that
love them,) and would occasion a great imitation of many
graces in strong exercises. Is it any wonder then that
multitudes under such a sort of affection are deceived ?
Especially when they have devils to help forward the
delusion, whose great subtlety has chiefly been exercised
in deceiving mankind through all past generations.
Inq. Here possibly some may be ready to inquire, If
there be so many things which men may experience from
no higher principles than are in the minds and hearts of
devils ; what are those exercises and affections that are of
a higher nature, which I must find in my heart, and which
I may justly look upon as sure signs of the saving grace
of God s Spirit ?
Ans. I answer, Those exercises and affections which are
good evidences of grace, differ from all that the devils have,
and all that can arise from such principles as are in their
hearts, in two things, viz. their foundation and their ten
dency. 1 . They differ in their foundation, or in that belonging
to them which is the foundation of all the rest that pertains
to them, viz. An apprehension or sense of the supreme holy
beauty and comeliness of divine things, as they are in
themselves, or in their own nature.
Of this the devils and damned in hell are, and for ever
will be, entirely destitute. This the devils once had, while
they stood in their integrity ; but they wholly lost it when
they fell. And this is the only thing that can be mentioned
pertaining to the devil's apprehension and sense of the
Divine Being, that he did lose. Nothing else belonging to
the knowledge of God, can be devised, of which he is
destitute. It has been observed, that there is no one attri
bute of the divine nature, but what he knows, with a strong

and very affecting conviction. This I think is evident and
undeniable. But to the supreme beauty of the divine
nature he is altogether blind. He sees no more of it, than
a man born perfectly blind does of colours. The great
sight he has of the attributes of God gives him an idea
and strong sense of his awful majesty, but no idea of his
beauty and comeliness. Though he has seen so much of
God's wonderful works of power, wisdom, holiness, justice,
and truth, and his wonderful works of grace to mankind,
for so many thousand years, and has had occasion to ob
serve them with the strongest attention ; yet all serves not
to give him the least sense of his divine beauty. And
though the devils should continue to exercise their mighty
powers of mind with the strongest intention ; and should
take things in all possible views, in every order and
arrangement ; yet they never will see this. So little akin
is the knowledge they have to this, that the great degrees
of that knowledge, bring them no nearer to it. Yet the
more knowledge they have of God of that kind, the more
do they hate God. That wherein the beauty of the divine
nature does most essentially consist, viz. his holiness, or
moral excellency, appears in their eyes furthest from
beauty. It is on that very account chiefly that he appears
hateful to them. The more holiness they see in him, the
more hateful he appears : the greater their sight is of his
holiness, the higher is their haired of him raised. And
because of their hatred of his holiness, they hate him the
more, the more they see of his other attributes. They
would hate a holy Being, whatever his other attributes
were ; but they hate such a holy Being the worse, for his
being infinitely wise, and infinitely powerful, &c. more
than they would do, if they saw in him less power and
less wisdom.
The wicked, at the day of judgment, will see every thing
else in Christ, but his beauty and amiableness. There is
no one quality or property of his person, that can be thought
of, but what will be set before thein in the strongest light
at that day, but only such as consist in this. They will
see him coming in the clouds of heaven, " in power, and
great glory, in the glory of his Father." They will have
that view of his external glory, which is vastly beyond
what we can imagine ; and they will have the strongest
and most convincing demonstrations of all his attributes
and perfections. They will have a sense of his great
majesty, that will be, as it were, infinitely affecting to
them. They shall be made to know effectually, " that
he is the Lord." They shall see what he is, and what he
does : his nature and works shall appear in the strongest
view : but his infinite beauty and amiableness, which is
all in all, and without which every other property is no
thing, and worse than nothing, they will not see.
Therefore in a sight or sense of this fundamentally con
sists the difference between the saving grace of God's
Spirit, and the experiences of devils and damned souls.
This is the foundation of every thing else that is distin
guishing in true christian experience. This is the founda
tion of the faith of God's elect. This gives the mind a
saving belief of the truth of divine things. It is a view of
the excellency of the gospel, or sense of the divine beauty
and amiableness of the scheme of doctrine there exhibited,
that savingly convinces the mind that it is indeed divine
or of God. This account of the matter is plainly implied ;
2 Cor. iv. 3, 4. " But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to
them that are lost, in whom the God of this world hath
blinded the minds of them that believe not, lest the light
of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God,
should shine into them." And, verse 6. " For God, who
commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined
in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the
glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." It is very
evident that a saving belief ofthe gospel, is here spoken of
by the apostle as arising from a view of the divine glory
or beauty ofthe things it exhibits. It is by this view that
the soul of a true convert is enabled savingly to see the
sufficiency of Christ for his salvation. He that has his
eyes opened to behold the divine superlative beauty and
loveliness of Jesus Christ, is convinced of his sufficiency
to stand as a Mediator between him, a guilty hell-de
serving wretch, and an infinitely holy God, in an ex
ceeding different manner than ever he can be convinced

Serm. V.

TRUE GRACE DISTINGUISHED, &c.

49

by the arguments of authois or preachers, however ex
cellent. When he once comes to see Christ's divine loveliness,
he wonders no more that he is thought worthy by God the
Father to be accepted for the vilest sinner. Now it is not
difficult for him to conceive how the blood of Christ
should be esteemed by God so precious as to be worthy to
be accepted as a compensation for the greatest sins. The
soul now properly sees the preciousness of Christ, and so
does properly see and understand the very ground and
reason of his acceptableness to God, and the value God
sets on his blood, obedience, and intercession. This
satisfies the poor guilty soul, and gives it rest, when the
finest and most elaborate discourses about the sufficiency
of Christ, and suitableness of the way of salvation, would
not do it. When a man comes to see the proper founda
tion of faith and affiance with his own eyes, then he be
lieves savingly. " He that seeth the Son, and believeth on
him, hath everlasting life ;" John vi. 40. When Christ
thus manifests God's name to men, then they believe that
all things whatsoever God has given to Christ are of him,
and believes that Christ was sent of God :" John xvii. 6,
7, 8 . And " they that thus know Christ's name will trust
in him ;" Psalm ix. 10. In order to true faith in Jesus
Christ, the Son of God is revealed in men, Gal. i. 15, 16.
And it is this sight of the divine beauty of Christ, that
bows the wills, and draws the hearts of men. A sight of
the greatness of God in his attributes, may overwhelm men,
and be more than they can endure ; but the enmity and
opposition of tlie heart may remain in its full strength,
and the will remain inflexible. Whereas one glimpse of
the moral and spiritual glory of God, and the supreme
amiableness of Jesus Christ shining into the heart, over
comes and abolishes this opposition, and inclines the soul
to Christ, as it were, by an omnipotent power. So that
now, not only the understanding, but the will and the
whole soul, receives and embraces the Saviour. This is
most certainly the discovery, which is the first internal
foundation of a saving faith in Christ in the soul of the
true convert, and not any immediate outward or inward
witness, that Christ loves him, or that he died for him in
particular, and is his Saviour ; so begetting confidence and
joy, and a seeming love to Christ, because he loves him.
By such faith and conversion, (demonstrably vain and
counterfeit,) multitudes have been deluded. Tlie sight of
the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ, works true
supreme love to God. This is a sight of the proper foun
dation of supreme love to God, viz. the supreme loveliness
qf his nature ; and a love to him on this ground is truly
above any thing that can come from a mere principle of
self-love, which is in the hearts of devils as well as men.
And this begets true spiritual and holy joy in the soul,
which is indeed joy in God, and glorying in him, and not
rejoicing in ourselves.
This sight of the beauty of divine things will excite true
desires and longings of soul after those things : not like
the longings of devils, but natural free desires ; the desires
of appetite, the thirstings of a new nature, as a new-born
babe desires the mother's breast ; and as a hungry man
longs for some pleasant food he thinks of; or as the thirsty
hart pants after the cool and clear stream.
This sense qf divine beauty is the first thing in the actual
change made in the soul in true conversion, and is the
foundation of every thing else belonging to that change ;
as is evident by those words of the apostle, 2 Cor. iii. 18.
" But we all with open face, beholding, as in a glass, the
glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image, from
glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.'
2. Truly gracious affections and exercises of mind differ
from such as are counterfeit, which arise from no higher
principles than are in the hearts of devils, in their tendency ;
and that in these two respects.
(1.) They are of a tendency and influence very contrary
to that which was especially the devil's sin, even pride.
That pride was in a peculiar manner the devil's sin, is
manifest from 1 Tim. iii. 6. " Not a novice, lest, being
lifted up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the
devil." False and delusive experiences evermore tend to
this, though oftentimes under the disguise of great and
extraordinary humility. Spiritual pride is the prevailing

temper and general character of hypocrites, deluded with
false discoveries and affections. — They are in general of a
disposition directly contrary to those two things belonging
to the christian temper, directed to by the apostle ; the one
in Rom. xii. 16. " Be not wise in your own conceit;" and
the other in Ph.il. ii. 3. " Let each esteem others better
than themselves." False experience is conceited of itself,
and affected with itself. Thus he that has false humility
is much affected to think how he is abased before God.
He that has false love is affected, when he thinks of the
greatness of his love. The very food and nourishment of
false experience is to view itself, and take much notice of
itself; and its very breath and life is to be some way
showing itself. — Whereas truly gracious views and affec
tions are of a quite contrary tendency. They nourish no
self-conceit; no exalting notion of the man's own right
eousness, experience, or privileges ; no high conceit of his
humiliations. They incline to no ostentation, nor self-
exaltation, under any disguise whatsoever. But that sense
of the supreme, holy beauty and glory of God and Christ,
which is the foundation of them, mortifies pride, and truly
humbles the soul. It not only cuts off some ofthe outer
most branches, but it strikes at the very root of pride; it
alters the very nature and disposition of the heart. The
light of God's beauty, and that alone, truly shows the soul
its own deformity, and effectually inclines it to exalt God
and abase itself.
(2.) These gracious exercises and affections differ from
the other in their tendency to destroy Satan's interest ; and
that in two respects :
First, in the person himself. They cause the soul to
hate every evil and false way, and to produce universal
holiness of heart and life, disposing him to make the
service of God, the promotion of his glory and the good
of mankind, the very business of his life : whereas those
false discoveries and affections have not this effect. There
may indeed be great zeal, and a great deal of what is
called religion ; but it is not a truly christian zeal ; it is
not being zealous of good works. Their religion is not
the service of God ; it is not seeking and serving God ;
but indeed seeking and serving themselves. — Though there
may be a change of life, it is not a change from every
wicked way to a uniform christian life and practice, but
only turning the stream of corruption from one channel to
another. Thus the apostle James distinguishes, in our
context, a true faith from the faith of devils ; James ii.
19, 20. "Thou believest that there is one God. The
devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O
vain man, that faith without works is dead ?" And thus
the apostle John distinguishes true communion with God ;
1 John i. 6, 7. " If we say that we have fellowship with
him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth :
but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have
fellowship one with another, and the blood of Christ
cleanseth us from all sin." By this he distinguishes true
spiritual knowledge, chap. ii. 3, 4. " Hereby we do know
that we know him, if we keep his commandments. He
that saith, I know him, and keepeth not his command
ments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him." And hereby
the same apostle distinguishes true love, chap. iii. 18, 19.
" Let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed
(in work, as the word signifies) and in truth. And hereby
we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our
hearts before him."
2. Truly gracious experiences have a tendency to destroy
Satan's interest in the world.
When false religion, consisting in the counterfeits of
the operations* of the Spirit of God, and in high pretences
and great appearances of inward experimental religion,
prevails among a people — though for the present it may
surprise many, and may be the occasion of alarming and
awakening some sinners — -tends greatly to wound and
weaken the cause of vital religion, and to strengthen the
interest of Satan, desperately to harden the hearts of sin
ners, exceedinglv to fill the world with prejudice against
the power of godliness, to promote infidelity and licentious
principles and practices, to build up and make strong the
devil's kingdom in the world, more than open vice and
profaneness, or professed atheism, or public persecution,
and perhaps more than any thing else whatsoever.

50

FIVE SERMONS ON DIFFERENT SUBJECTS.

But it is not so with true religion in its genuine beauty.
— That, if it prevails in great power, will doubtless ex
cite the rage of the devil, and many other enemies of reli
gion. However, it gives great advantage to its friends,
and exceedingly strengthens their cause, and tends to con
vince or confound enemies. True religion is a divine light
in the souls of the saints ; and as it shines out in the con
versation before men, it tends to induce others to glorify
God. There is nothing like it (as to means) to awaken
the consciences of men, to convince infidels, and to stop
the mouths of gainsayers. — Though men naturally hate
the power of godliness, yet when they see the fruits of it,
there is a witness in their consciences in its favour. " He
that serveth Christ in righteousness, and peace, and joy in
the Holy Ghost, is acceptable to God, and approved of
men," Rom. xiv. 17, 18. The prevailing of true religion
ever tends to its honour in the world, though it commonly
is the occasion of great persecution. It is a sure thing,
the more it appears and is exemplified in the view of the
world, the more will its honour, and the honour of its
author, be advanced. Phil. i. 11. " Being filled with the
fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ unto the
glory and praise of God."
The third use may be of exhortation, to seek those dis
tinguishing qualifications and affections of soul which nei
ther the devil, nor any unholy being, has or can have.
How excellent is that inward virtue and religion which
consists in those ! Herein consists the most excellent ex
periences of saints and angels in heaven. Herein consists
the best experience of the man Christ Jesus, whether in
his humbled or glorified state. Herein consists the image
of God. — Yea, this is spoken of in Scripture as a commu
nication of something of God's own beauty and excellency.
A participation of the divine nature, 2 Peter i. 4. A par
taking of his holiness, Heb. xii. 10. A partaking of
Christ's fulness, John i. 16. Hereby the saints are filled
with all the fulness of God, Eph. iii. 18, 19. Hereby
they have fellowship with both the Father and the Son, i
John i. 3. that is, they communicate with them in their
happiness. Yea, by means of this divine virtue, there is a

mutual indwelling of God and the saints; 1 John iv. 16.
" God is love ; and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in
God, and God in him."
This qualification must render the person that has it ex
cellent and happy indeed, and doubtless is the highest
dignity and blessedness of any creature. This is the pe
culiar gift of God, which he bestows only on his special
favourites. As to silver, gold, and diamonds, earthly
crowns and kingdoms, he often throws them out to those
whom he esteems as dogs and swine ; but this is the pe
culiar blessing of his dear children. This is what flesh
and blood cannot impart. God alone can bestow it. This
was the special benefit which Christ died to procure for
his elect, the most excellent token of his everlasting love ;
the chief fruit of his great labours, and the most precious
purchase of his blood.
By this, above all other things, do men glorify God.
By this, above all other things, do the saints shine as
lights in the world, and are blessings to mankind. And
this, above all things, tends to their own comfort ; from
hence arises that "peace which passeth all understanding,"
and that "joy which is unspeakable and full of glory."
And this is that which will most certainly issue in the
eternal salvation of those who have it. It is impossible
that the soul possessing it should sink and perish. It is
an immortal seed ; it is eternal life begun ; and therefore
they that have it can never die. It is the dawning of the
light of glory. It is the day-star risen in the heart, that is
a sure forerunner of that sun's rising which will bring on
an everlasting day. This is that water which Christ gives,
which is in him that drinks it " a well of water springing
up into everlasting life;" John iv. 14. It is something
from heaven, of a heavenly nature, and tends to heaven.
And those that have it, however they may now wander in
a wilderness, or be tossed to and fro on a tempestuous
ocean, shall certainly arrive in heaven at last, where this
heavenly spark shall be increased and perfected, and the
souls of the saints all be transformed into a bright and
pure flame, and they shall shine forth as the sun in the
kingdom of their Father. Amen.

FIFTEEN SERMONS

VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

PREFACE.

The following Sermons were not transcribed with any view to a publication in this country. In the year 1773, 1 was
desired by a gentleman in Scotland to transcribe a number of the author's sermons on some of the most plain, practical,
and experimental subjects, that they might be printed there. The reader will hence see, that it was not the design to
pick out the most Curious and elaborate discourses, but those of a different stamp. Among the very numerous dis
courses on practical and experimental subjects out of which I was to choose, it was no easy task to determine which to
publish and which to omit. And different persons would no doubt in this case judge differently. Many sermons
equally worthy of the light as these, were omitted, and perhaps some that were more worthy : yet it is hoped that the
public will judge these not unworthy of their acceptance and attention.
The reader cannot be insensible of the disadvantages attending all posthumous works, especially sermons, which are
generally prepared only for the next sabbath, and for a particular congregation, and often in great haste, and amidst
many avocations. Yet ifin these sermons he shall find the most important truths exhibited, and pressed home on the
conscience with that pungency which tends to awaken, convince, humble, and edify ; if he shall find that serious strain
of piety which, in spite of himself, forces upon him a serious frame of mind ; if in the perusal he cannot but be ashamed
and alarmed at himself, and in some measure feel the reality and weight of eternal things ; if at least he, like Agrippa,
shall be almost persuaded to be a Christian ; — I presume he will not grudge the time requisite to peruse what is now-
offered him. These, if I mistake not, are the great ends to be aimed at in all sermons, whether preached or printed, and
are ends which can never be accomplished by those modern fashionable discourses which are delivered under the name
of sermons, but really are mere harangues on such moral subjects as have been much better handled by Cicero, Seneca,
or the Spectator, and contain very little more of the gospel than is to be found in the heathen philosophers. That the
important ends now mentioned may be indeed accomplished by this publication to every reader is the sincere desire of
the public's humble servant,
JONATHAN EDWARDS. O-v .
New-Haven, Dec. 21, 1779. '
N. B. The reader will observe some sermons not dated. Those I suppose were written before the year 1733, when
the author was thirty years of age ; as in that year he began to date his sermons, and all written after that appear to be
dated.

SERMON I *
THE MANNER IN WHICH THE SALVATION OF THE SOUL IS TO BE SOUGHT.

Gen. vi. 22.
Tims did Noah ; according to all tliat God commanded
him, so did he.
Concerning these words, I would observe three things :
1. What it was that God commanded Noah, to which
these words refer. It was the building of an ark according
to the particular direction of God, against the time when
the flood of waters should come ; and the laying up of food
for himself, his family, and the other animals, which were
to be preserved in the ark. We have the particular com
mands which God gave him respecting this affair, from the
1 4th verse, " Make thee an ark of gopher wood," &c.
2. We may observe the special design of the work which
« Dated, September, 1740.
E 2

God had enjoined upon Noah : it was to save himself and
his family, when the rest of the world should be drowned.
See ver. 17, 18.
3. We may observe Noah's obedience. He obeyed
God : Thus did Noah. And his obedience was thorough
and universal : According to all that God commanded him,
so did he. He not only began, but he went through his
work, which God had commanded him to undertake for
his salvation from the flood. To this obedience the apostle
refers in Heb. xi. 7. " By faith Noah being warned of God
of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark
to the saving of his house."
Doctrine. — We should be willing to engage in and go
through great undertakings, in order to our own salvation.
The building of the ark, which was enjoined upon

52
Noah, that he and his family might be saved, was a great
undertaking : the ark was a building of vast size ; the
length of it being three hundred cubits, the breadth of it
fifty cubits, and the height of it thirty cubits. A cubit,
till of late, was by learned men reckoned to be equal to a
foot and a half of our measure. But lately some learned
men of our nation have travelled into Egypt, and other
ancient countries, and have measured some ancient build
ings there, which are of several thousand years standing,
and of which ancient histories give us the dimensions in
cubits ; particularly the pyramids of Egypt, which are
standing entire at this day. By measuring these, and by
comparing the measure in feet with the ancient accounts of
their measure in cubits, a cubit is found to be almost two
and twenty inches. Therefore learned men more lately
reckon a cubit much larger than they did formerly.
So that the ark reckoned so much larger every way, will
appear to be almost of double the bulk which was former
ly ascribed to it. According to this computation of the
cubit, it was more than five hundred and fifty feet long,
about ninety feet broad, and about fifty feet in height.
To build such a structure, with all those apartments and
divisions in it which were necessary, and in such a manner
as to be fit to float upon the water for so long a time, was
then a great undertaking. It took Noah, with all the
workmen he employed, a hundred and twenty years, or
thereabouts, to build it. For so long it was, that the
Spirit of God strove, and the long-suffering God waited on
the old world ; as you may see in Gen. vi. 3. " My Spirit
shall not always strive with man ; yet his days shall be an
hundred and twenty years." All this while the ark was a
peparing, as appears by 1 Pet. iii. 20. " When once the
long-suffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while
the ark was a preparing." It was a long time that Noah
constantly employed himself in this business. Men would
esteem that undertaking very great, which should keep
them constantly employed even for one half of that time. —
Noah must have had a great and constant care upon his
mind for these one hundred and twenty years, in superin
tending this work, and in seeing that ail was done exactly
according to the directions which God had given him.
Not only was Noah himself continually employed, but it
required a great number of workmen to be constantly
employed, during all that time, in procuring, and collect
ing, and fitting the materials, and in putting them together
in due form. How great a thing was it for Noah to un
dertake such a work ! For beside the continual care and
labour, it was a work of vast expense. It is not probable
that any of that wicked generation would put to a finger to
help forward such a work, which doubtless they believed
was merely the fruit of Noah's folly, without full wages.
Noah must needs have been very rich, to be able to bear
the expense of such a work, and to pay so many workmen
for so long a time. It would have been a very great ex
pense for a prince ; and doubtless Noah was very rich, as
Abraham and Job were afterwards. But it is probable
that Noah spent all his worldly substance in this work,
thus manifesting his faith in the word of God, by selling
all he had, as believing there would surely come a flood,
which would destroy all ; so that if he should keep what he
had, it would be of no service to him. Herein he has set
us an example, showing us how we ought to sell all for our
salvation. Noah's undertaking was of great difficulty, as it exposed
him to the continual reproaches of all his neighbours, for
that whole one hundred and twenty years. None of them
believed what he told them of a flood which was about to
drown the world. For a man to undertake such a vast
piece of work, under a notion that it should be the means
of saving him when the world should be destroyed, it made
him the continual laughing-stock of the world. When he
was about to hire workmen, doubtless all laughed at him,
and we may suppose, that though the workmen consented
to work for wages, yet they laughed at the folly of him
who employed them. When the ark was begun, we
may suppose lhat every one that passed by and saw
such a huge hulk stand there, laughed at it, calling it
Noah's folly.
In these days, men are with difficulty brought to do or
submit to that which makes them the objects of the re-

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

proach of all their neighbours. Indeed, if while some re
proach them, others stand by them and honour them, this
will support them. But it is very difficult for a man to go
on in a way wherein he makes himself the laughing-stock
of the whole world, and wherein he can find none who do
not despise him. Where is the man that can stand the
shock of such a trial for twenty years ?
But in such an undertaking as this, Noah, at the divine
direction, engaged and went through it, that himself and
his family might be saved from the common destruction
which was shortly about to come on the world. He be
gan, and also made an end : " According to all that God
commanded him, so did he." Length of time did not
weary him : he did not grow weary of his vast expense.
He stood the shock of the derision of all his neighbours,
and of all the world, year after year : he did not grow
weary of being their laughing-stock, so as to give over his
enterprise ; but persevered in it till the ark was finished.
After this, he was at the trouble and charge of procuring
stores for the maintenance of his family, and of all the
various kinds of creatures, for so long a time. Such an
undertaking he engaged in and went through in order to a
temporal salvation. How great an undertaking then should
men be willing to engage in and go through in order to
their eternal salvation ! A salvation from an eternal de
luge ; from being overwhelmed with the billows of God's
wrath, of which Noah's flood was but a shadow.
I shall particularly handle this doctrine under the three
following propositions.
I. There is a work or business which must be under
taken and accomplished by men, if they would be
saved. II. This business is a great undertaking.
III. Men should be willing to enter upon and go
through this undertaking, though it be great, seeing it is
for their own salvation.
I. Prop. There is a work or business which men must
enter upon and accomplish, in order to their salvation. —
Men have no reason to expect to be saved in idleness, or
to go to heaven in a way of doing nothing. No ; in order
to it, there is a great work, which must be not only begun,
but finished. — I shall speak upon this proposition, in
answer to two inquiries.
Inq. 1 . What is this work or business which must be
undertaken and accomplished in order to the salvation of
men. Ans. It is the work of seeking salvation in a way of
constant observance of all the duty to which God directs
us in his word. If we would be saved, we must seek sal
vation. For although men do not obtain heaven of them
selves, yet they do not go thither accidentally, or without,
any intention or endeavours of their own. God, in his word,
hath directed men to seek their salvation as they would
hope to obtain it. There is a race that is set before
them, which they must run, and in that race come off
victors, in order to their winning the prize.
The Scriptures have told us what particular duties must
be performed by us in order to our salvation. It is not
sufficient that men seek their salvation only in the observ
ance of some of those duties ; but they must be observed
universally- The work we have to do is not an obedience
only to some, but to all the commands of God ; a com
pliance with every institution of worship ; a diligent use of
all the appointed means of grace ; a doing of all duty
towards God and towards man. — It is not sufficient that
men have some respect to all the commands of God, and
that they may be said to seek their salvation in some sort
of observance of all the commands ; but they must be
devoted to it. They must not make this a business by
the bye, or a thing in which they are negligent and care
less, or which they do with a slack hand ; but it must be
their great business, being attended to as their great con
cern. They must not only seek, but strive ; they must do
what their" hand findeth to do with their might, as men
thoroughly engaged in their minds, and influenced and set
forward by great desire and strong resolution. They must
act as those that see so much of the importance of religion
above all other things, that every thing else must be as an

Serm. I.

THE MANNER OF SEEKING SALVATION,

53

occasional affair, and nothing must stand in competition
with its duties. This must be the one thing they do ;
Phil. iii. 13. " This one thing I do."— It must be the
business to which they make all other affairs give place,
and to which they are ready to make other things a sacri
fice. They must be ready to part with pleasures and
honour, estate and life, and to sell all, that they may
successfully accomplish this business.
It is required of every man, that he not only do some
thing in this business, but that he should devote himself to
it ; which implies that he should give up himself to it, all
his affairs, and all his temporal enjoyments. This is the
import of taking up the cross, of taking Christ's yoke
upon us, and of denying ourselves to follow Christ. The
rich young man, who came kneeling to Christ to know
what he should do to be saved, (Mark x. 17.) in some sense
sought salvation, but did not obtain it. In some sense he
kept all the commands from his youth up ; but was not
cordially devoted to this business. — He had not made a
sacrifice to it of all his enjoyments, as appeared when
Christ came to try him ; he would not part with his estate
for him.
It is not only necessary that men should seem to be
very much engaged, and appear as if they were devoted
to their duty for a little while ; but there must be a con
stant devotedness, in a persevering way, as Noah was to
the business of the building the ark, going on with that
great, difficult, and expensive affair, till it was finished,
and till the flood came. — Men must not only be diligent
in the use of the means of grace, and be anxiously engaged
to escape eternal ruin, till they obtain hope and comfort ;
but afterwards they must persevere in the duties of reli
gion, till the flood come, the flood of death. — Not only
must the faculties, strength, and possessions of men be
devoted to this work, but also their time and their lives :
they must give up their whole lives to it, even to the very
day when God causes the storms and floods to come. This
is the work or business which men have to do in order to
their salvation.
Inq. 2. Why is it needful that men should undertake
to go through such a work in order to their salvation ?
Ans. 1. Not to merit salvation, or to recommend them
to the saving mercy of God. Men are not saved on the
account of any work of theirs, and yet they are not saved
without works. If we merely consider what it is for which,
or on the account of which, men are saved, no work at all
in men is necessary to their salvation. In this respect they
are saved wholly without any work of theirs, Tit. iii. 5.
" Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but
according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of
regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost." — -We
must indeed be saved on the account of works ; but not
our own. It is on account of the works which Christ hath
done for us. Works are the fixed price of eternal' life ; it
is fixed by an eternal, unalterable rule of righteousness.
But since the fall there is no hope of our doing these
works, without salvation offered freely without money and
without price. — But,
2. Though it be not needful that we do any thing to
merit salvation, which Christ hath fully merited for all who
believe in him ; yet God, for wise and holy ends, hath
appointed, that we should come to final salvation in no
other way, but that of good works done by us.
God did not save Noah on account of the labour and
expense he was at in building the ark. Noah's salvation
from the flood was an instance of the free and distinguish
ing mercy of God. Nor did God stand in need of Noah's
care, or cost, or labour, to build an ark. The same power
which created the world, and which brought the flood of
waters upon the earth, could have made the ark in an
instant, without any care or cost to Noah, or any of the
labour of those many workmen who were employed for so
long a time. Yet God was pleased to appoint, that Noah
should be saved in this way. — So God hath appointed
that man should not be saved without his undertaking and
doing this work of which I have been speaking ; and
therefore we are commanded " to work out our own sal
vation with fear and trembling," Philip, ii. 12.
There are many wise ends to be answered by the esta
blishment of such a work as pre-requisite to salvation. The,

glory of God requires it. For although God stand in no
need of any thing that men do to recommend thein to his
saving mercy, yet it would reflect much on the glory of
God's wisdom and holiness, to bestow salvation on men
in such a way as tends to encourage them in sloth and
wickedness ; or in any other way than that which tends
to promote diligence and holiness. Man was made
capable of action, with many powers of both body and
mind fitting him for it. He was made for business and
not idleness ; and the main business for which he was
made, was that of religion. Therefore it becomes the
wisdom of God to bestow salvation and happiness on
man, in such a way as tends most to promote his end in
this respect, and to stir him up to a diligent use of his
faculties and talents.
It becomes the wisdom of God so to order it, that things
of great value and importance should not be obtained
without great labour and diligence. Much human learn
ing and great moral accomplishments are not to be ob
tained without care and labour, lt is wisely so ordered,
in order to maintain in man a due sense of the value of
those things which are excellent. If great things were in
common easily obtained, it would have a tendency to
cause men to slight and undervalue them. Men com
monly despise those things which are cheap, and which
are obtained without difficulty.
Although the work of obedience performed by men, be
not necessary in order to merit salvation ; yet it is neces
sary in order to their being prepared for it. Men cannot
be prepared for salvation without seeking it in such a way
as hath been described. This is necessary in order that
they have a proper sense of their own necessities, and
unworthiness ; and in order that they be prepared and
disposed to prize salvation when bestowed, and be pro
perly thankful to God for it. The requisition of so great
a work in order to our salvation is no way inconsistent with
the freedom of the offer of salvation ; as after all, it is both
offered and bestowed without any respect to our work, as
the price or meritorious cause of our salvation, as I have
already explained. Besides, salvation bestowed in this
way is better for us, more for our advantage and happi
ness, both in this and the future world, than if it were
given without this requisition.
II. Prop. This work or business, which must be done
in order to the salvation of men, is a great undertaking.
It often appears so to men upon whom it is urged.
Utterly to break off from all their sins, and to give up
themselves for ever to the business of religion, without
making a reserve of any one lust, submitting to and com
plying with every command of God, in all cases, and
persevering therein, appears to many so great a thing, that
they are in vain urged to undertake it. In so doing it
seems to them, that they should give up themselves to a
perpetual bondage. The greater part of men therefore
choose to put it off, and keep it at as great a distance as
they can. They cannot bear to think of entering imme
diately on such a hard service, and rather than do it,
they will run the risk of eternal damnation, by putting it
off to an uncertain future opportunity.
Although the business of religion is far from really being
as it appears to such men, for the devil will be sure, if he
can, to represent it in false colours to sinners, and make it
appear as black and terrible as he can ; yet it is indeed a
great business, a great undertaking, and it is fit that all
who are urged to it, should count the cost beforehand, and
be sensible of the difficulty attending it. For though the
devil discourages many from this undertaking, by repre
senting it to be more difficult than it really is ; yet with
others he takes a contrary course, and flatters them it is a
very easy thing, a trivial business, which may he done at
any time when they please, and so imboldens them to de
fer it from that consideration. But let none conceive any
other notion of that business of religion, which is absolutely
necessary to their salvation, than that it is a great under
taking. It is so on the following accounts.
1. It is a business of great labour and care. There are
many commands to be obeyed, many duties to be done,
duties to God, duties to our neighbour, and duties to our
selves. — There is much opposition in the way of these duties
from without. There is a subtle and powerful adversary

54

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

laying all manner of blocks in the way. There are in
numerable temptations of Satan to be resisted and repelled.
There i' great opposition, from the world, innumerable
snares laid on every side, many rocks and mountains to be
passed over, many streams to be passed through, and many
flatteries and enticements from a vain world to be resisted.
There is a great opposition from within ; a dull and slug
gish heart, which is exceedingly averse from that activity
in religion which is necessary ; a carnal heart, which is
averse from religion and spiritual exercises, and continually
drawing the contrary way ; and a proud and a deceitful
heart, in which corruption will be exerting itself in all
manner of ways. So that nothing can be done to any
effect without a most strict and careful watch, great labour
and strife.
2. It is a constant business. — In that business which
requires great labour, men love now and then to have a
space of relaxation, that they may rest from their extraor
dinary labour. But this is a business which must be fol
lowed every day. Luke ix. 23. " If any man will come
after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily
and follow me." — We must never give ourselves any re
laxation from this business ; it must be continually prose
cuted day after day. If sometimes we make a great stir
and bustle concerning religion, but then lay all aside to take
our ease, and do so from time to time, it will be of no good
effect; we had even as good do nothing at all. The busi
ness of religion so followed is never like to come to any
good issue, nor is the work ever like to be accomplished
to any good purpose.
3. It is a great undertaking, as it is an undertaking of
great expense. — W. must therein sell all : we must follow
this bus _ess at the expense of all our unlawful pleasures
and delights, at the expense of our carnal ease, often at the
expense of our substance, of our credit among men, the
good will of our neighbours, at the expense of all our
earthly friends, and even at the expense of life itself.
Herein it is like Noah's undertaking to build the ark,
which, as hath been shown, was a costly undertaking : it
was expensive to his reputation among men, exposing him
to be the continual laughing-stock of all his neighbours
and of the whole world : and it was expensive to his estate,
and probably cost him all that he had.
4. Sometimes the fear, trouble, and exercise of mind,
which are undergone respecting this business, and the sal
vation of the soul, are great and long continued, before any
comfort is obtained. Sometimes persons in this situation
labour long in the dark, and sometimes, as it were, in the
very fire, they having great distress of conscience, great
fears, and many perplexing temptations, before they obtain
light and comfort to make their care and labour more easy
to them. They sometimes earnestly, and for a long time,
seek comfort, but find it not, because they seek it not in a
right manner, nor in the right objects. God therefore hides
his face. They cry, but God doth not answer their prayers.
Thpy strive, but all seems in vain. They seem to them
selves not at all to get forward, or nearer to a deliverance
from sin ; but to go backward, rather than forward. They
see no glimmerings of light: things rather appear darker
and darker. Insomuch that they are often ready to be
discouraged, and to sink under the weight of their present
distress, and under the prospect of future misery. In this
situation, and under these views, some are almost driven
to despair.
Many, after they have obtained some saving comfort, are
again involved in darkness and trouble. It is with them
as it was with the christian Hebrews, Heb. x. 32. "After
ye were illuminated ye endured a great fight of afflictions."
Some through a melancholy habit and distemper of body,
together with Satan's temptations, spend a great part of
their lives in distress and darkness, even after they have had
some saving comfort.
5. It is a business which, by reason of the many diffi
culties, snares, and dangers that attend it, requires much
instruction, consideration, and counsel. There is no busi
ness wherein men stand in need of counsel more than in
this. It is a difficult undertaking, a hard matter to pro
ceed aright in it. There are ten thousand wrong ways,
which men may take ; there are many labyrinths wherein
many poor souls are entangled and never find the way out ;

there are many rocks on which thousands of souls have
suffered shipwreck, for want of having steered aright.
Men of themselves know not how to proceed in this
business, any more than the children of Israel in the wil
derness knew where to go without the guidance of the
pillar of cloud and fire. There is great need that they
search the Scriptures, and give diligent heed to the instruc
tions and directions contained in them, as to a light shining
in a dark place ; and that they ask counsel of those skilled
in these matters. And there is no business in which men
have so much need of seeking to God by prayer, for his
counsel, and that he would lead them in the right way, and
show them the strait gate. " For strait is the gate and
narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there
be that find it ;" yea there are none that find it without
direction from heaven.
The building of the ark was a work of great difficulty on
this account, that Noah's wisdom was not sufficient to di
rect him how to make such a building as should be a
sufficient security against such a flood, and which should
be a convenient dwelling-place for himself, his family, and
all the various kinds of beasts, and birds, and creeping
things. Nor could he ever have known how to construct
this building, had not God directed him.
6. This business never ends till life ends. They that
undertake this laborious, careful, expensive, self-denying
business, must not expect to rest from their labours, till
death shall have put an end to them. The long continu
ance of the work which Noah undertook was what espe
cially made it a great undertaking. This also was what
made the travel of the children of Israel through the wil
derness appear so great to them, that it was continued for
so long a time. Their spirits failed, they were discouraged,
and had not a heart to go through with so great an under
taking. But such is this business that it runs parallel with life,
whether it be longer or shorter. Although we should live
to a great age, our race and warfare will not be finished till
death shall come. We must not expect that an end will
be put to our labour, and care, and strife by any hope of a
good estate which we may obtain. Past attainments and
past success will not excuse us from what remains for the
future, nor will they make future constant labour and care
not necessary to our salvation.
III. Men should be willing to engage in and go through
this business, however great and difficult it may seem to
them, seeing it is for their own salvation. — Because,
1. A deluge of wrath will surely come. The inhabitants
of the old world would not believe that there would
come such a flood of waters upon the earth, as that of
which Noah told them, though he told them often ; neither
would they take any care to avoid the destruction. Yet
such a deluge did come ; nothing of all those things of
which Noah had forewarned them, failed.
So there will surely come a more dreadful deluge of
divine wrath on this wicked world. We are often fore
warned of it in the Scriptures, and the world, as then, doth
not believe any such thing. Yet the threatening will as
certainly be accomplished, as the threatening denounced
against the old world. A day of wrath is coming ; it will
come at its appointed season ; it will not tarry, it shall not
be delayed one moment beyond its appointed time.
2. All such as do not seasonably undertake and go
through the great work mentioned will surely be swallowed
up in this deluge. When the floods of wrath shall come,
they will universally overwhelm the wicked world : all
such as shall not have taken care to prepare an ark, will
surely be swallowed up in it : they will find no otlier way
of escape. In vain shall salvation be expected from the
hills, and from the multitude of mountains ; for the flood
shall be above the tops of all the mountains. Or if they
shall hide themselves in the caves and dens of the moun
tains, there the waters of the flood will find them out, and
there shall they miserably perish.
As those of the old world who were not in the ark
perished, (Gen. vii. 21—23.) so all who shall not have se
cured to themselves a place in the spiritual ark of the
gospel, shall perish much more miserably than the old
world. — Doubtless the inhabitants of the old world had
many contrivances to save themselves. Some, we may

Serm. I.

THE MANNER OF SEEKING SALVATION.

55

suppose, ascend to the tops of their houses, being driven
out of one story to another, till at last they perished.
Others climbed to the tops of high towers ; who yet were
washed thence by the boisterous waves of the rising flood..
Some climbed to the tops of trees ; others to the tops of
mountains, and especially of the highest mountains. But
all was in vain ; the flood sooner or later swallowed them
all up ; only Noah and his family, who had taken care to
prepare an ark, remained alive.
So it will doubtless be at the end of the world, when
Christ shall come to judge the world in righteousness.
Some, when they shall look up and see him coming in the
clouds of heaven, shall hide themselves in closets, and
secret places in their houses. Others flying to the caves
and dens of the earth, shall attempt to hide themselves
there. Others shall call upon the rocks and mountains to
fall on them, and cover them from the face of him that
sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb.—
So it will be after the sentence is pronounced, and wicked
men see that terrible fire coming, which is to burn this
world for ever, and which will be a deluge of fire, and will
burn the earth even to the bottoms of the mountains, and
to its very centre. (Deut. xxxii. 22.) " For a fire is
kindled in mine anger, and shall burn to the lowest hell,
and shall consume the earth with her increase, and set on
fire the foundations of the mountains." I say, when the
wicked shall, after the sentence, see this great fire begin
ning to kindle, and to take hold of this earth ; there will
be many contrivances devised by them to escape, some
flying to caves and holes in the earth, some hiding them
selves in one place, and some in another. But let them
hide themselves where they will, or let them do what they
will, it will be utterly in vain. Every cave shall burn as
an oven, the rocks and mountains shall melt with fervent
heat, and if they could creep down to the very centre of
the earth, still the heat would follow them, and rage with
as much vehemence there, as on the very surface.
So when wicked men, who neglect their great work in
their lifetime, who are not willing to go through the diffi
culty and labour of this work, draw near to death, they
sometimes do many things to escape death, and put forth
many endeavours to lengthen out their lives at least a little
longer. For this end they send for physicians, and perhaps
many are consulted, and their prescriptions are punctually
observed. They also use many endeavours to save their
souls from hell. They cry to God ; they confess their past
sins ; they promise future reformation ; and, oh ! what
would they not give for some small addition to their lives,
or some hope of future happiness. But all proves in vain :
God hath numbered their days and finished them ; and as
they have sinned away the day of grace, they must even
bear the consequence, and for ever lie down in sorrow.
3. The destruction, when it shall come, will be infinitely
terrible. The destruction of the old world by the flood
was terrible ; but that eternal destruction which is coming
on the wicked is infinitely more so. That flood of waters
was but an image of this awful flood of divine vengeance.
When the waters poured down, more like spouts or cata
racts, or the fall of a great river, than like rain ; what an
awful appearance was there of the wrath of God ! This
however is but an image of that terrible outpouring of the
wrath of God which shall be for ever, yea for ever and
ever, on wicked men. And when the fountains of the
great deep were broken up, and the waters burst forth out
of the ground, as though they had issued out of the womb,
(Job xxxviii. 8.) this was an image of the mighty break
ings forth of God's wrath, which shall be, when the flood
gates of wrath shall be drawn up. How may we suppose
that the wicked of the old world repented that they had
not hearkened to the warnings which Noah had given
them, when they saw these dreadful things, and saw that
they must perish ! How much more will you repent your
refusing to hearken to the gracious warnings of the gospel,
when you shall see the fire of God's wrath against you,
pouring down from heaven, and bursting on all sides out
of the bowels of the earth !
4. Though the work which is necessary in order to
man's salvation be a great work, yet it is not impossible.
What was required of Noah, doubtless appeared a very
great and difficult undertaking. Yet he undertook it with

resolution, and he was carried through it. So if we un
dertake this work with the same good will and resolution,
we shall undoubtedly be successful. However difficult
it be, yet multitudes have gone through it, and have ob
tained salvation by the means. It is not a work beyond
the faculties of our nature, nor beyond the opportunities
which God giveth us. If men will but take warning and
hearken to counsel, if they will but be sincere and in good
earnest, be seasonable in their work, take their opportuni
ties, use their advantages, be stedfast and not wavering ;
they shall not fail. APPLICATION.
The use I would make of this doctrine, is to exhort all
to undertake and go through this great work, which they
have to do in order to their salvation, and this, let the work
seem ever so great and difficult. If your nature be averse
to it, and there seems to be very frightful things in the
way, so that your heart is ready to fail at the prospect ; yet
seriously consider what has been said, and act a wise part.
Seeing it is for yourselves, for your own salvation ; seeing
it is for so great a salvation, for your deliverance from
eternal destruction; and seeing it is of such absolute
necessity in order to your salvation, that the deluge of
divine wrath will come, and there will be no escaping it
without preparing an ark ; is it not best for you to under
take the work, engage in it with your might, and go
through it, though this cannot be done without great
labour, care, difficulty, and expense ?
I would by no means flatter you concerning this work,
or go about to make you believe, that you shall find an
easy light business of it : no, I would not have you ex
pect any such thing. I would have you sit down and
count the cost; and if you cannot find it in your hearts to
engage in a great, hard, laborious, and expensive under
taking, and to persevere in it to the end of life, pretend
not to be religious. Indulge yourselves in your ease ;
follow your pleasures; eat, drink, and be merry; even
conclude to go to hell in that way, and never make any
more pretences of seeking your salvation. Here consider
several things in particular.
1 . How often you have been warned of the approaching
flood of God's wrath. How frequently you have been told
of hell, heard the threatenings of the word of God set
before you, and been warned to flee from the wrath to
come. It is with you as it was with the inhabitants of the
old world. Noah warned them abundantly of the ap
proaching flood, and counselled them to take care for their
safety. 1 Pet. iii. 19, 20. — Noah warned them in words;
and he preached to them.. He warned them also in
his actions. His building the ark, which took him so
long a time, and in which he employed so many hands,
was a standing warning to them. All the blows of the
hammer and axe, during the progress of that building,
were so many calls and warnings to the old world, to take
care for their preservation from the approaching destruc
tion. Every knock of the woikmen was a knock of Jesus
Christ at the door of their hearts : but they would not
hearken. All these warnings, though repeated every day,
and continued for so long a time, availed nothing.
Now, is it not much so with you, as it was with them ?
How often have you been warned ! how have you heard
the warning knocks of the gospel, sabbath after sabbath,
for these many years ! Yet how have some of you no
more regarded them than the inhabitants of the old world
regarded the noise of the workmen's tools in Noah's ark !
Obj. But here possibly it may be objected by some,
that though it be true they have often been told of hell,
yet they never saw any thing of it, and therefore they can
not realize it that there is any such place. They have
often heard of hell, and are told that wicked men, when
they die, go to a most dreadful place of torment; that
hereafter there will be a day of judgment, and that the
world will be consumed by fire. But how do they know
that it is really so ?. How do they know what becomes of
those wicked men that die ? None of them come back to
tell them. They have nothing to depend on but Ihe word
which they hear. And how do they know that all is not
a cunningly-devised fable?

56

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

Ans. The sinners of the old world had the very same
objection against what Noah told them of a flood about to
drown the world. Yet the bare word of God proved to
be sufficient evidence that such a thing was coming.
What was the reason that none ofthe manv millions then
upon earth believed what Noah said, but this, that it was
a strange thing, that no such thing had ever before been
known ? And what a strange story must that of Noah
have appeared to them, wherein he told them of a deluge
of waters above the tops of the mountains ! Therefore it
is said, Heb. xi. 7. that " Noah was warned of God of
things not seen as yet." It is probable, none could con
ceive how it could be that the whole world should be
drowned in a flood of waters ; and all were ready to ask,
where there was water enough for it ; and by what means
it should be brought upon the earth? Noah did not tell
them how it should be brought to pass ; he only told them
that God had said that it should be : and that proved to
be enough. The event showed their folly in not depending
on the mere word of God, who was able, who knew how
to bring it to pass, and who could not lie.
In like manner the word of God will prove true, in
threatening a flood of eternal wrath to overwhelm all the
wicked. You will believe it when the event shall prove
it, when it shall be too late to profit by the belief. The
word of God will never fail ; nothing is so sure as that :
heaven and earth shall pass away, but the word of God
shall not pass away. It is firmer than mountains of brass.
At the end, the vision will speak and not lie. The decree
shall bring forth, and all wicked men shall know that God
is the Lord, that he is a God of truth, and that they are
fools who will not depend on his word. The wicked of
the old world counted Noah a fool for depending so much
on the word of God, as to put himself to all the fatigue
and expense of building the ark ; but the event showed
that they themselves were the fools, and that he was wise.
2. Consider that the Spirit of God will not always
strive with you ; nor will his long-suffering always wait
upon you. So God said concerning the inhabitants of the
old world, Gen. vi. 3. " My spirit shall not always strive
with man, for that he also is flesh ; yet his days shall be
one hundred and twenty years." All this while God was
striving with them. It was a day of grace with them,
and God's long-suffering all this while waited upon them,
(1 Pet. iii. 20.) " Which sometime were disobedient,
when once the long-suffering of God waited in the days of
Noah, while the ark was a preparing." All this while they
had an opportunity to escape, if they would but hearken
and believe God.
Even after the ark was finished, which seems to have
been but little before the flood came, still there was an
opportunity ; the door of the ark stood open for some
time. There was some time during which Noah was em
ployed in laying up stores in the ark. Even then it was
not too late ; the door of the ark yet stood open.— About
a week before the flood came, Noah was commanded to
begin to gather in the beasts and birds. During this last
week still the door of the ark stood open. But on the
very day that the flood began to come, while the rain was
yet withheld, Noah and his wife, his three sons, and their
wives, went into the ark ; and we are told, Gen. vii. 16.
That " God shut him in." Then the day of God's pa
tience was past; the door of the ark was shut; God
himself, who shuts and no man opens, shut the door.
Then all hope of their escaping the flood was past ; it was
too late to repent that thev had not hearkened to Noah's
warnings, and had not enteied into the ark while the door
stood open.
After Noah and his family had entered into the ark, and
God had shut them in, after the windows of heaven were
opened, and they saw how the waters were poured down
out of heaven, we may suppose that many of those who
were near came running to the door of the' ark, knocking,
and crying most piteouslv for entrance. But it was too
late ; God himself had shut the door, and Noah had no
licence, and probably no power, to open it. We may sup
pose, they stood knocking and calling, Open to us, open to
vs ; 0 let us in ; we beg that we may be let in. And pro
bably some of them pleaded old acquaintance with Noah ;
that they had always been his neighbours, and had even

helped him to build the ark. But all was in vain. There
they stood till the waters of the flood came, and without
mercy swept them away from the door of the ark.
So it will be with you, if you continue to refuse to
hearken to the warnings which are given you. Now God
is striving with you ; now he is warning you of the ap
proaching flood, and calling upon you sabbath after sab
bath. Now the door of the ark stands open. But God's
Spirit will not always strive with you ; his long-suffering
will not alwavs wait upon you. There is an appointed
day of God's patience, which is as certainly limited as it
was to the old world. God hath set your bounds, which
you cannot pass. Though now warnings are continued
in plenty, yet there will be last knocks and last calls, the
last that ever you shall hear. When the appointed time
shall be elapsed, God will shut the door, and you shall
never see it open again ; for God shutteth, and no man
openeth. — If you improve not your opportunity before
that time, you will cry in vain, " Lord, Lord, open to
us." (Matt. xxv. 11. and Luke xiii. 25, &c.) While
you shall stand at the door with your piteous cries, the
flood of God's wrath will come upon you, overwhelm
you, and you shall not escape. The tempest shall carry
you away without mercy, and you shall be for ever swal
lowed up and lost.
3. Consider how mighty the billows of divine wrath
will be when they shall come. The waters of Noah's
flood were very great. The deluge was vast ; it was very
deep ; the billows reached fifteen cubits above the highest
mountains ; and it was an ocean which had no shore ;
signifying the greatness of that wrath which is coming on
wicked men in another world, which will be like a mighty
flood of waters overwhelming them; and rising vastly high
over their heads, with billows reaching to the very hea
vens. Those billows will be higher and heavier than
mountains on their poor souls. The wrath of God will be
an ocean without shores, as Noah's flood was : it will be
misery that will have no end.
The misery of the damned in hell can be better repre
sented by nothing, than by a deluge of misery, a mighty
deluge of wrath, which will be ten thousand times worse
than a deluge of waters ; for it will be a deluge of liquid
fire, as in the Scriptures it is called a lake of fire and
brimstone. — At the end of the world all the wicked shall
be swallowed up in a vast deluge of fire, which shall be
as great and as mighty as Noah's deluge of water. (See
2 Pet. iii. 5, 6, 7.) After that the wicked will have
mighty billows of fire and brimstone eternally rolling over
their poor souls, and their miserable tormented bodies.
Those billows may be called vast liquid mountains of fire
and brimstone. And when one billow shall have gone over
their heads, another shall follow, without intermission, giv
ing them no rest day nor night to all eternity.
4. This flood of wrath will probably come upon you
suddenly, when you shall think little of it, and it shall
seem far from you. So the flood came upon the old
world, see Matt. xxiv. 36, &c— Probably many of them
were surprised in the night by the waters bursting sud
denly in at their doors, or under the foundations of their
houses, coming in upon them in their "beds. For when
the fountains of the great deep were broken up, the wa
ters, as observed before, burst forth in mighty torrents.
To such a sudden surprise of the wicked of the old world
in the night, probably that alludes in Job xxvii. 20. "Ter
rors take hold on him as waters ; a tempest stealeth him
away in the night."
So destruction is wont to come on wicked men, who
hear many warnings of approaching destruction, and yet
will not be influenced by them. For " he that is often
reproved, and hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be de
stroyed, and that without remedy," (Prov. xxix. 1.) And
" when they shall say, Peace and safety ; then sudden
destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman
with child, and they shall not escape," 1 Thess. v. 3.
5. If you will not hearken to the many warnings which
are given you of approaching destruction, vou will be
guilty of more than bi-utish madness. " The ox'knoweth his
owner, and the ass his master's crib." They know upon
whom they are dependent,and whom they must obey, and
act accordingly. But you, so long as vou neglect your

Serm. I.

SAINTS ABSENT FROM THE BODY, &c.

57

own salvation, act as if you knew not God, your Creator
and Proprietor, nor your dependence upon him. — The very
beasts, when they see signs of an approaching storm, will
betake themselves to their dens for shelter. Yet you,
when abundantly warned of the approaching storm of
divine vengeance, will not fly to the hiding-place from the
storm, and the covert from the tempest. The sparrow, the
swallow, and other birds, when they are forewarned of ap
proaching winter, will betake themselves to a safer climate.
Yet vou who have been often forewarned ofthe piercingblasts
of divine wrath, will not, in order to escape them, enter into
the New Jerusalem, of most mild and salubrious air,
though the gate stands wide open to receive you. The
very ants will be diligent in summer to lay up for winter :
yet you will do nothing to lay up in store a good
foundation against the time to come. Balaam's ass would
not run upon a drawn sword, though his master, for the
sake of gain, would expose himself to the sword of God's
wrath ; and so God made the dumb ass, both in words
and actions, to rebuke the madness of the prophet, 1 Pet.
ii. 16. In like manner, you, although you have been often

warned that the sword of God's wrath is drawn against
you, and will certainly be thrust through you, if you pro
ceed in your present course, still proceed, regardless of the
consequence. So God made the very beasts and birds of the oil world
to rebuke the madness of the men of that dav : lor thev,
even all sorts of them, fled to the ark, while the door was
yet open : which the men of that day refused to do ; God
hereby thus signifying, that their folly was greater than that
of the very brute creatures. — Such folly and madness are
you guilty of, who refuse to hearken to the warnings that
are given you of the approaching flood ofthe wrath of God.
You have been once more warned to-day, while the
door of the ark yet stands open. You have, as it were,
once again heard the knocks of the hammer and axe in the
building of the ark, to put you in mind that a flood is ap
proaching. Take heed therefore that you do not still stop
your ears, treat these warnings with a regardless heart,
and still neglect the great work which you have to do, lest
the flood of wrath suddenly come upon you, sweep you
away, and there be no remedy.

SERMON II.*
THE UNREASONABLENESS OF INDETERMINATION IN RELIGION.

1 Kings xviii. 21.
And Elijah came unto all thepeopie, and said, How bong halt
ye between two opinions ? If the Lord be God, follow
him ; but if Baal, then follow him. And the people
ansioered him not a word.
It is the manner of God, before he bestows any signal
mercy on the people, first to prepare them for it ; and be
fore he removes any awful judgments which he hath
brought upon them for their sins, first to cause them to
forsake those sins which procured those judgments. We
have an instance of this in the context. — It was a time of
sore famine in Israel. There had been neither rain nor
dew for the space of three years and six months. This
famine was brought upon the land for their idolatry. But
God was now about to remove this judgment ; and there
fore, to prepare them for it, sends Elijah to convince them
of the folly of idolatry, and to bring them to repentance
for it. — In order to this, Elijah, by the command of the
Lord, goes and shows himself to Ahab, and directs him
to send and gather all Israel to him at mount Carmel,
and all the prophets of Baal, four hundred and fifty, and
the prophets of the groves that ate at Jezebel's table, four
hundred, that they might determine the matter and bring
the controversy to an issue, whether Jehovah or Baal were
God. To this end, Elijah proposes, that each should take
a bullock, that he should take one, and the prophets of
Baal another, that each should cut his bullock to pieces,
lay it on the wood, and put no fire under ; and that the
God who should answer by fire should be concluded to
be God.
The text contains an account of what Elijah said to all
the people at their first meeting, and of their silence :
" And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How
long halt ye between two opinions ? If the Lord be God,
follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him." To which
the people, it seems, made no reply. In these words, we
may observe,
1. How Elijah expostulates with the people about their
halting so long between two opinions ; in which expostu
lation may be observed,
(1.) What the two opinions were, between which they
halted, viz. Whether the Lord were God, or whether Baal
were God. The case in Israel seems to have been this :
there were some who were altogether for Baal, and wholly
rejected the true God ; of which number, to be sure, were
Jezebel and the prophets of Baal. And there were some
• Dated, June, 1734

among them who were altogether for the God of Israel,
and wholly rejected Baal ; as God told Elijah, that " he
had yet left in Israel seven thousand that had not bowed
the knee to Baal, and whose mouths had not kissed him,"
1 Kings xix. 18.
But the rest of the people halted between two opinions.
They saw that some were for one, and some for the other,
and they did not know which to choose ; and, as is com
monly the case when difference of opinion prevails, there
were many who had no religion at all ; they were not set
tled in any thing ; the different opinions prevalent in
Israel distracted and confounded them. Many who pro
fessed to believe in the true God, were yet very cold and
indifferent, and many were wavering and unsettled. They
saw that the king and queen were for Baal ; and Baal's
party was the prevailing party ; but their forefathers had
been for the Lord ; and they knew not which were right.
Thus they halted between two opinions.
(2.) In this expostulation is implied the unreasonable
ness of their thus halting between two opinions. " How
long halt ye between two opinions ? If the Lord be God,
follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him." Which im
plies that they ought to determine one way or the other.
2. We may observe their silence on this occasion :
" And the people answered him not a word," as being
convicted in their own consciences ofthe unreasonableness
of their being for so long a time wavering and unresolved ;
thev had nothing to reply in excuse for themselves.
Doctrine, tjnresolvedness in religion is very unreason
able. I. Prop. Many persons remain exceedingly undeter
mined with respect to religion. They are very much un
determined in themselves whether to embrace religion or
to reject it. Many who are baptized, and make a profes
sion of religion, and seem to be Christians, are yet in their
own minds halting between two opinions : they never yet
came fully to a conclusion whether to be Christians or
not. They are taught the christian religion in their child
hood, and have the Bible, the word preached, and the
means of grace, all their days ; yet continue, and grow up,
and many grow old, in an unresolvedness whether to em
brace Christianity or not ; and many continue unresolved
as long as they live.
1. There are some persons who have never come to a
settled determination in their own minds, whether or no
there be any truth in religion. They hear of the things of
religion from their childhood all their days ; but never

58

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

come to a conclusion in their own minds whether they be
real or fabulous. Particularly, some have never come to
any determination in their own minds, whether there be
any such thing as conversion. They hear much talk about
it, and know that many pretend to be the subjects of it;
but they are never resolved whether all be not merely de
signed hypocrisy and imposture.
Some never come to any determination whether the
Scriptures be the word of God, or whether they be the in
vention of men ; and whether the story concerning Jesus
Christ be any thing but a fable. They fear it is true, but
sometimes very much doubt of it. Sometimes when they
hear arguments for it, they assent that it is true ; but
upon every little objection or temptation arising, they call
it in question ; and are always wavering and never settled
about it.
So it seems to have been with many of the Jews in
Christ's time ; they were always at a loss what to make of
him, whether he were indeed the Christ, or whether he were
Elias, or one of the old prophets, or a mere impostor.
John x. 24, 25. " Then came the Jews round about him,
and said unto him, How long dost thou make us to doubt?
If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly. Jesus answered them,
I told you, and ye believed not." Some have never so much
as come to a resolution in their own minds, whether there
be a God or not. They know not that there is, and
oftentimes very much doubt of it.
2. There are some who never have come to any determi
nation in their own minds whether to embrace religion in
the practice of it. Religion consists not merely, or chiefly,
in theory or speculation, but in practice. It is a practical
thing; the end of it is lo guide and influence us in our
practice : and considered in this view, there are multitudes
who never have come to a conclusion whether to embrace
religion or not. It is probably pretty general for men to
design to be religious some time or other before they die ;
for none intend to go to hell. But they still keep it at a
distance ; they put it off from time to time, and never come
to any conclusion which determines them in their present
practice. And some never so much as fix upon anytime.
They design to be religious some time before they die, but
they know not when.
There are many who have always continued unresolved
about the necessity of striving and being earnestly engaged
for salvation. They flatter themselves that they may ob
tain salvation, though they be not so earnestly engaged ;
though they mind the world and their worldly affairs more
than their salvation. They are often told how necessary it
is that they make haste and not delay, that they do what
ever their hand findeth to do with their might ; that a dull,
slack way of seeking salvation is never likely to be effectual.
But of these things they are never thoroughly convinced.
Some seem to resolve to be in earnest, and seem to set out
with some engagedness of mind ; but soon fail, because
they have never been fully convinced of its necessity.
Many have never come to a determination what to
choose for their portion. There are but two things which
God offers to mankind for their portion : one is this world,
with the pleasures and profits of sin, together with eternal
misery ensuing ; the other is heaven and eternal glory,
with a life of self-denial and respect to all the commands
of God. Many, as long as they live, come to no settled
determination which of these to choose. They must have
one or the other, they cannot have both ; but they always
remain in suspense, and never make their choice.
They would fain have heaven and this world too ; they
would have salvation and the pleasures and profits of sin
too. But considering heaven and the world, as God offers
them, they will have neither. God offers heaven only with
the self-denial and difficulty which are in the way to it ;
and thev are not willing to have heaven on these conditions.
God offers the world and the pleasures of sin to men not
alone, but with eternal misery in connexion with them ;
and so neither are they willing to have the world. They
would fain divide heaven from the holiness and self-denial
which are the way to it, and from the holiness which reigns
in it, and then they would be glad to have heaven. They
would fain divide sin from hell, and then they would fully
determine forever to cleave to sin.
But God will not make such a division for them. They

must have one or the other of these for their portion, as
God offers ; and therefore they never make any choice at
all. — Indeed they do practically and in effect choose sin
and hell. But they do not come to any resolution in their
own minds which they will have for their portion, whether
heaven and holiness, or the world and hell : they are
always wavering and halting between two opinions. Some
times they seem to determine for the one, and sometimes
for the other. When they meet with no difficulty or
temptation, and can, as they say, do their duty without
hurting themselves or much crossing their carnal inclina
tions, they seem to choose heaven and holiness. At other
times, wherein they meet with difficulty in the way of duty,
and great temptations of worldly profits or pleasures are
laid before them, then they choose the world, and let hea
ven and holiness alone. — There are among us vast multi
tudes before whom these two things have been set hundreds
of times, who have never to this day come to a determina
tion which to have.
So they have never yet determined which shall be their
master, whether God or mammon. There are but few who
have undertaken the service of God, and are come to a re
solution and preparedness of mind to serve God and fol
low Christ at all times, and to whatever difficulties it may
expose them. Yet, at the same time, neither are they de
termined that they will continue to serve Satan : they are
afraid to draw up such a conclusion. — Thus many spend -
their lives without making their choice, though they do in
the mean time practically choose the service of Satan.
These are the persons of whom the apostle James speaks
in chap. i. 8. " The double-minded man is unstable in all
his ways."
II. To continue thus undetermined and unresolved in
the things of religion, is very unreasonable, and that upon
the following accounts.
1. In the things of religion we are to the highest degree
interested. The truth or falsehood of the doctrines of re
ligion concerns us to the highest degree possible. It is no
matter of indifference to us whether there be a God or not ;
or whether the Scriptures be the word of God ; or whether
Christ be the Son of God ; or whether there be any such
thing as conversion. It makes an infinite difference to us,
whether these things be so or not. Therefore we are under
the greatest obligation in point of interest to resolve in our
minds whether they be true or false. They who are un
determined whether there be any truth in religion, and are
contented to be>o, not inquiring, nor thoroughly using the
means to be determined, act very unreasonably. They re
main in doubt whether there be any such thing as heaven
or hell ; are quiet and easy to continue ignorant in this
matter ; are not engaged in their minds to come to a de
termination ; do not search and inquire what arguments
there are to prove any such things ; nor diligently weigh
and consider the force "of them ; but busy their minds about
other things of infinitely less importance ; and act as if
they thought it did not much concern them whether there
be a future and eternal state.
If they think that there is not, yet it is a matter of so
great importance, that no wise man would rest until he had
satisfied himself ; because if there be such a future state
as the Scriptures assert, then we must have our part in it,
either in a state of eternal rewards, or in a state of eternal
punishment.— So it is no matter of indifference to us what
we have for our portion, whether this world with hell, or a
life of holiness and self-denial with heaven. These op
posite portions relate, not merely to a few days in this
world, but to eternity. It is infinite madness therefore not
to come to a determination.
So it is no matter of indifference what master we serve,
whether God or mammon ; or what interest we will pur
sue, whether our temporal or eternal interest; or which we
prefer, the commands of God, or our pleasures, our ease,
and convenience. We ought therefore to come to some
determination which we will choose.
2. God hath made us reasonable creatures, and capable
of rationally determining for ourselves. Doubtless God
hath made man capable of discovering the truth in matters
ot religion, of coming to a good determination in these
questions, whether the Scriptures be the word of God,
whether there be a future state, and the like. The reso-

Serm. II.

THE UNREASONABLENESS OF INDETERMINATION, &c.

59

lution of these questions, which it so much concerns us
to determine, is not above our capacities. God hath not
set these things beyond the extent of our faculties.
God hath made us capable of making a wise choice for
ourselves, as to the life we shall choose to lead. He hath
given man so much understanding, as to make him capa
ble of determining which is best ; to kad a life of self-
denial, and enjoy eternal happiness, or to take our swing
in sinful enjoyments, and burn in hell for ever. The
question is of no difficult determination. — It is so far from
being a matter too hard for our reason, that the reason of a
child is sufficient to determine this matter. Therefore men
in remaining undetermined in these matters, do not act as
reasonable creatures, but make themselves like " the horse
and the mule, which have no understanding," Psal.
xxxii. 9.
3. God puts into our hands a happy opportunity to
determine for ourselves. What better opportunity can a
man desire to consult his own interest, than to have
liberty to choose his own portion ? God setteth life and
death before us. Deut. xxx. 19. " I call heaven and earth
to record this day against you, that I have set before you
life and death, blessing and cursing ; therefore choose life,
that thou and thy seed after thee may live." See also
Ezek. xviii. 31, 32. and chap, xxxiii. 11. What better
opportunity can we desire for securing to ourselves the
greatest good, than to have eternal life and unchangeable
happiness set before us, and offered to our choice ? There
fore those who neglect coming to a resolution, act unrea
sonably, because they stand so much in their own light,
and neglect so glorious an opportunity.
4. The things among which we are to make our choice
are but few in number ; there are but two portions set
before us, one of which must be our portion ; either life
or death, either blessing or cursing ; either a life of uni
versal and persevering obedience, with eternal glory, or a
worldly, carnal, wicked life, with eternal misery. If there
were many terms in the offer made us, many things of
nearly an equal value, one of which we must choose, to
remain long in suspense and undetermined would be more
excusable ; there would be more reason for long delibera
tion before we should fix. But there are only two terms;
there are but two states in another world, in one or the
other of which we must be fixed to all eternity.
And there are but two states in this world, a state of
sin, and a state of holiness ; a natural state, and a converted
state. There is but one way in which we can come to
life, which renders the determination of reason much the
easier. There are but two masters, to one of which we
must be reputed the servants, Baal and Jehovah, God
and Mammon : there are but two competitors for the pos
session of us, Christ and the devil. — There are but two
paths, in one of which you are to travel, either in the
straight and narrow way which leadeth unto life, or the
broad way which leadeth unto destruction.
This shows the unreasonableness of those who live under
light, and have the offers of the gospel made to them, and
yet remain from year to year unfixed and undetermined,
halting between two opinions.
5. God hath given us all needed helps to determine us.
We have all needful helps to determine our understand
ings, as to the truth of the things of religion, as whether
there be a God, whether the Scriptures be the word of
God, whether there be a future state, _x. We are not
left in the dark as to these things, as the poor heathens
are, who are under great disadvantages to come to the
knowledge of the truth, though they be not under an im-
Eossibility, for " they may haply feel after God and find
im," Acts xvii. 27. But we have a clear sunshine to
guide us, we have a particular description of those things
which are set before us for truth, and have great oppor
tunity to examine them. The Scripture lies open before
us, and all the doctrines of the gospel are particularly set
forth, with the reasons on which their evidence is founded.
We may search and try their force and sufficiency, as we
please. We have great helps to a wise and rational determina
tion in our choice ; to determine whether it be best for us
to choose a life of sin or a life of holiness, the service of
God or the service of Baal. We have very plainly set

before us the advantages of both sides ; the loss and gain
are particularly stated. Christ hath dealt by us faithfully,
and hath told us what we shall get and what we shall lose
by being his followers. He hath also told us what we
shall get and what we shall lose by a life of sin. He hath
not dealt by us deceitfully. He hath not pretended
greater advantages in godliness than there really are, nor
greater disadvantages or dangers in sin. John xiv. 2. " In
my Father's house are many mansions. If it were not so,
I would have told you."
He hath told us plainly that we must take up the cross
daily and follow him ; that we must hate father and
mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters,
and our own life also, in order to become his disciples ;
and that we must cut off our right hands, and pluck out
our right eyes, in order to enter into heaven. Thus we
have a fair opportunity to count the costs on both sides,
and are directed so to do ; Luke xiv. 28. — How unrea
sonable therefore is it for men who have all these helps
and advantages, to remain in suspense, and to come to no
conclusion whether they will be Christians or heathens,
whether they will be for God or the devil ; though they
have lived under the preaching of the word and offers of
the gospel for many years.
6. We have no reason to expect to be under better ad
vantages to determine hereafter than we are now. We
never shall have a clearer revelation of gospel truth ; never
shall have the advantages and disadvantages of both sides
more plainly set before us, than they are already in the
word of God ; nor are we ever like to be under better ad
vantages to know what will be best for us, and most for
our interest. Those therefore who delay, gain nothing by
their delays, but give Satan more opportunity to darken
their minds, to deceive them, and lead them astray in their
choice. Therefore their delay of coming to a resolution is
unreasonable. 7. If they come not to a determination in this life, God
will determine for them, and will appoint them their por
tion with the wicked. If sinners, by refusing to choose
either life or death, either heaven or hell, could thereby
avoid both, or if in this case the matter would remain
undetermined, till they should determine it ; the folly and
unreasonableness of delaying a determination would not
be so great. But that is not the case ; if they go on halt
ing between two opinions, God will determine for them,
and that quickly ; he will determine where their portion
shall be, viz. among the unbelievers, in the lake that
burneth with fire and brimstone for ever. God will not
wait upon them always, to see what they will choose ; but
he will put an issue to the matter by his unalterable sen
tence. — Therefore it becomes all, if they are afraid to have
their lot assigned them in hell, to come soon to a deter
mination. 8. Delay in this case is unreasonable, because those
who delay know not how soon the opportunity of choosing
for themselves will be past. This opportunity will last no
longer than life ; when once life is past, they will no more
have the offer made them; the sentence will be past; the
matter will be closed.
Those who delay their choice in this world will be glad
to choose afterwards ; then they will not be at a loss
which to choose ; they will be able easily to determine.
The judgments of sinners, after this life, are soon resolved,
whether there be any truth in' religion or not ; they can
soon determine which is most eligible ; a life of obedience
and self-denial, with heaven for a reward, or a life of irre
ligion and sin, with hell for a punishment. They no longer
halt between two opinions ; but it is too late, their oppor
tunity is past. They would give all the world for another
opportunity to choose ; they would then soon come to a
determination. But it will not be granted them.

APPLICATION.
I. Let this put every one upon examining himself,
whether or no he have ever yet come to a full determination
in the affair of religion.
First, Inquire whether you have yet come to a full deter
mination with respect to the truth ofthe things of religion.

60

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

Have you ever been fully convinced ? Is it a question
which has been answered and determined with you,
whether there be a future state ; or does it yet remain a
question witli you unresolved ? Are you not yet to seek
whether there be any future state, and whether or no the
story about Jesus Christ be any more than a fable ? Here
I desire you to note two things.
1. If the main reason why you assent to the truth of
religion be, that others believe so, and you have been so
instructed from your childhood ; you are of those with
whom the truth of religion yet remains undetermined.
Tradition and education will never fix and settle the mind
in a satisfactory and effectual belief of the truth. Though
men, taking religion upon trust, may seem to give a full
assent to the truth of religion, and not to call it in question ;
yet such a faith will not stand a shock ; a temptation
easily overthrows it. The reason of man in time of trial
will not rest on so poor an evidence.
There are multitudes who seem to grant the truth of re
ligion, with whom the main foundation of their faith is the
tradition of their fathers, or the profession of their neigh
bours ; and it is to be feared, it is so with many who count
themselves good Christians. But as to all such persons
as never have seen any other evidence to satisfy them,
either of the truth or falsehood of religion, they only halt
between two opinions. — The same may be said of those
who are unstable in their disposition with regard to Christ
or the things which he taught.
2. If you are fully come to a determination concerning
the things of religion, that they are true, they will be of
weight with you above all things in the world. If you be
really convinced that these things are no fable, but reality,
it is impossible but that you must be influenced by them
above all things in the world ; for these things are so great,
and so infinitely exceed all temporal things, that it cannot
be otherwise. He that really is convinced that there is a
heaven and hell, and an eternal judgment ; that the soul,
as soon as parted from the body, appears before the judg
ment-seat of God ; and that the happiness and misery of a
future state is as great as the Scripture represents it ; or
that God is as holy, just, and jealous, as he hath declared
concerning himself in his word ; I say, he that is really
convinced, and hath settled it with himself, that these
things are certainly true, will be influenced by them above
all things in the world. He will be more concerned by far
how he shall escape eternal damnation, and have the favour
of God and eternal life, than how he shall get the world,
gratify the flesh, please his neighbours, get honour, or ob
tain any temporal advantage whatsoever. His main in
quiry will not be, what shall I eat, and what shall I drink,
&c. but he will seek first the kingdom qf God and his
righteousness. Examine yourselves therefore by this : Are not your
hearts chiefly set upon the world and the things of it ? Is
it not more your concern, care, and endeavour to further
your outward interest, than to secure an interest in heaven?
And is not this the very reason that you have never seen
the realitv of eternal things ?
Secondly, Inquire whether you have ever yet come to a
determination about religion with respect to the practice of
it ; whether you have chosen heaven with the way to it,
viz. the way of obedience and self-denial, before this
world and the ways of sin ; whether you have determined
upon it as most eligible, to devote yourselves to the ser
vice of God. — Here I shall mention three or four things
which are signs that men halt between two opinions in this
matter. I. To put off duty till hereafter. When persons love to
keep their duty at a distance, engage not in it for the pre
sent, but think of engaging when they shall be under better
conveniences for it ; — when they are very good intenders
concerning what they will do to-morrow, but very poor
performers to-day ; when they say, as Felix, " Go thy way
for ihis time, when I have a convenient season I will call
for thee ;" — it is a sign that they halt between two opinions,
and have never as yet come to a full determination with
respect to the practice of religion. Those that have once
fully determined that religion is necessary and eligible,
will not desire to put it off, but will make it their present
and immediate business.

2. It is a sign of the same thing when persons are strict
and conscientious in some things, but not universal in their
obedience ; do some duties, but live in the omission of
others ; avoid some sins, but allow themselves in others;
are conscientious with respect to the duties of worship
public and private, but not in their behaviour to their
neighbours ; are not just in their dealings, nor conscientious
in paying their debts ; nor do to others as they would that
they should do to them ; but have crooked perverse ways
in their dealings among mankind.
The same may be said when they are just in their deal
ings and trade with men, but are not conscientious in other
things ; indulge sensual appetites, drink to excess, or allow
themselves in wanton practices : or are honest and tem
perate, but licentious in using their tongues, backbiting and
reproaching their fellow-men, 2 Tim. iii. 6, 7.
3. It is a sign that you halt between two opinions, if
you sometimes are wont to be considerably engaged in re
ligion, but at other times neglect it ; sometimes forming a
resolution to be in good earnest, then dropping it again ;
sometimes seeming to be really engaged in seeking salva
tion, and very earnest in religious duties ; at other times
wholly taken up about the things of the world, while reli
gion is neglected, and religious duties are omitted.
These things show that you are yet unsettled, have never
yet come to a full determination concerning religion, hut
are halting between two opinions, and therefore are thus
unstable in all your ways, and proceed thus by fits and
starts in religion, James i. 6, 7, 8. " But let him ask in
faith, nothing wavering : for he that wavereth is like a wave
of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed. For let not
that man think that he shall receive anything ofthe Lord.
A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways." If
your determination were fixed in religion, you would be
more steady in your practice.
4. It is a sign that you are halting between two opinions;
if it be your manner to balk your duty whenever any
notable difficulty comes in the way, considerably cross to
your interest, or very inconsistent with your ease or conve
nience, or your temporal honour. Whatever zeal you may
seem to have, whatever concern about the things of religion,
and however strict you be in ordinary, you have never, if
this be your manner, come to a full determination ; have
never fully made choice of religion and the benefits of it
for your only portion ; and at best have got no further than
king Agrippa, who was almost persuaded to be a Christian,
Acts xxvi. 28. You are in the state of the stony-ground
hearers, you have no root in yourselves, and like a tree
without root, are easily blown down by every wind.
II. I shall conclude with an earnest exhortation to all, no
longer to halt between two opinions, but immediately to
come to a determination whether to be Christians or not.
Let me insist upon it, that you now make a choice,
whether you will have heaven, with a life of universal and
persevering obedience, for your portion ; or hell, with a life
spent in the pursuit of this world.— Consider those things
which have been said, showing the unreasonableness of
continuing in such irresolution about an affair of infinite
importance to you, and as to which you have so short an
opportunity to make your choice. — Consider two things in
addition to what hath been already said.
1. Those who live under the gospel, and thus continue
undetermined about religion, are more abominable to God
than the heathen. He hates those persons who continue
from year to year, under the calls, and warnings, and in
structions, and entreaties of God's word ; who yet can be
brought to nothing ; who will come to no determination
at ail ; will neither be Christians nor heathens. These
are they who are spoken of in Rev. iii. 15, 16. " I know
thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot : I would thou
wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm,
and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my
mouth."  And Ezek. xx. 39. " As for you, O house of
Israel, thus saith the Lord God, Go ye, serve ye every one
his idols, and hereafter also, if ye will not hearken unto
me : but pollute ye my holy name no more with your
gifts, and with your idols."— These are (2 Tim. iii. 7.)
" ever learning, and never coming to the knowledge of
the truth."
2. If you still refuse to come to a determination whether

Serm. III.

UNBELIEVERS CONTEMN THE GLORY OF CHRIST.

to be Christians or not, how just will it be, if God shall
give you no further opportunity ! If you refuse to make
any choice at all — after all that hath been done to bring
you to it, in setting life and death so often before you, in
calling and warning you, how just will it be, if God shall

wait no longer upon you ; but shall, by his unalterable
sentence, determine the case himself, and fix your state
with the unbelievers, and teach you the truth and eligible
ness of religion, by sad and fatal experience, when it will
be too late for you to choose your portion.

SERMON III.*
UNBELIEVERS CONTEMN THE GLORY AND EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST.

Acts iv. 11.
This is the stone which was set at nought of you builders.
In the foregoing chapters we have an account of the out
pouring of the Holy Ghost on the apostles, and of its ex
traordinary effects in their speaking boldly in the name of
Jesus, and speaking many strange languages, and so being
made the instruments of the sudden conversion of vast
multitudes. And in the chapter immediately preceding,
there is an account how Peter and John miraculously
healed a man who had been a cripple from his birth ;
which, together with the word which they spake to the
people that flocked together on the occasion, was the
means of a new accession to the church : so that the num
ber of them that heard the word and believed, as we are
told in the fourth verse of this chapter, was about five
thousand. This sudden and extraordinary progress of the gospel
greatly alarmed the priests and scribes, and other chief
men among the Jews ; so that they laid hands on Peter
and John, and put them in hold, and the next day brought
them forth to appear before them, and called them to an
account for what they had done. They asked them par
ticularly by what power, or by what name, they had
wrought the miracle on the impotent man. Upon which
Peter, filled with the Holy Ghost, makes answer, " Ye
rulers of the people, and elders of Israel, — Be it known
unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the
name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom ye crucified,
whom God raised from the dead, even by him doth this
man stand here before you whole. This is the stone which
was set at nought by you builders, which is become the
head of the corner." The apostle quotes to them as now
fulfilled, the 118th Psalm, ver. 22. " The stone which the
builders refused is become the head-stone of the corner."
This text, in that psalm, the apostle applies by telling
them, 1 . That This is the stone, i. e. this person of whom he
had spoken in the foregoing verse, viz. Jesus Christ of
Nazareth, whom they had crucified, and whom God had
raised from the dead.
2. That they were the builders spoken of. They before
whom the apostle then was, and to whom he was speak
ing, were rulers, and elders, and scribes of the people, the
high priest and other priests. They, as they were set to
be rulers and teachers among God's people, by their office,
were called to be builders of the church of God.
3. That they set this stone at nought. They had so
done by refusing to accept of him. Christ came to his
own, and his own received him not : and not only so,
but they had openly manifested the greatest contempt of
him. They had mocked him, scourged and spit upon
him, and in derision crowned him with a crown of thorns,
and arrayed him in a mock robe, and then had put him to
a most ignominious death.
4. That notwithstanding this, he was become the head
of the corner. In spite of all that they could do, he had
obtained the chief place in the building. God had made
him the main foundation of it, by raising him from the
dead, arid so putting great honour upon him ; by pouring
• Dated, May, 1736.

out his Spirit, and enduing his disciples with extraordinary
gifts ; by suddenly converting so many thousands to be
the followers of Christ. — They put him to death, that he
might have no followers, concluding that that would ut
terly put an end to his interest in Judea. But they were
greatly disappointed : for the gospel had incomparably
greater success after Christ's death than before. God had
accomplished that very thing which they endeavoured to
prevent by Christ's crucifixion, viz. Christ's being be
lieved in and submitted to, as the great prophet of God,
and prince of his people.

DOCTRINE.
Unbelievers set at nought the glory and excellency in
Christ. 1 . They set at nought the excellency of his person.- —
Christ is a great and glorious person, a person of infinite
worthiness, on which account he is infinitely esteemed and
loved of the Father, and is continually adored by the
angels. But unbelievers have no esteem at all for him on
that account. They have no value for him on account of
his being the Son of God. He is not set the higher in
their esteem on the account of his standing in so near and
honourable a relation to God the Father. He is not
valued at all the more for his being a divine person. By
his having the divine nature, he is infinitely exalted above
all created beings. But he is not at all exalted by it in
their esteem. They set nothing by his infinite majesty :
his glorious brightness and greatness excite not any true
respect or reverence in them.
Christ is the holy One of God : he is so holy that the
heavens are not pure in his sight. He is possessed of all
that holiness which is the infinite beauty and loveliness of
the divine nature. But an unbeliever sets nothing by the
holiness of Christ. — Christ is the wisdom of God and the
power of God, 1 Cor. i. 24. But an unbeliever sets no
thing by his power and wisdom. The Lord Jesus Christ
is full of grace and mercy : the mercy and love of God
appear no where else so brightly and gloriously as they do
in the face of Jesus Christ. — But an unbeliever sets" no
value at all upon the infinite grace of Christ.
Neither do unbelievers set any thing by those excellent
virtues which appeared in Christ's human nature when he
was upon earth. He was holy, harmless, undefiled, and
separate from sinners ; he was meek and lowly of heart ;
he was patient under afflictions and injuries ; when he
was reviled, he reviled not again. But unbelievers set no
thing by these things in Jesus Christ. — They very often
hear how excellent and glorious a person Christ is : they
are told of his holiness, and grace, and condescension,
and meekness, and have the excellencies of Christ plainly
set forth to them ; yet they set all at nought.
2. They set at nought his excellency in his work and
office. They are told how glorious and complete a medi
ator he is, how sufficient to answer all our necessities, and
to save sinners to the uttermost ; but they make light of
it all ; yea, they make nothing of it. They hear of the
wonderful wisdom of God in contriving such a way of
salvation by Christ, they have the manifold wisdom of

62

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

God set forth to them ; but they make no account of the
excellency of this way of salvation.
The unbeliever hears what a wonderful thing it was,
that he who was in the form of God, and esteemed it no
robbery to be equal with God, should take upon him the
human nature, and come and live in this world in a mean
and low condition ; but he makes nothing of this. He
hears much of the dying love of Christ to sinners, how
wonderful it was that so glorious a person, who is infinitely
above the angels, should so set his love on such worms of
the dust, as to come and be made a curse for them, and die
a cruel and ignominious death in their stead ; but he set-
nothing by all this. This dying love of Christ is of no
account with him; those great things that Christ hath
done and suffered are with him light matters.
Unbelievers not only set little by the glory and excel
lency of Christ, but they set nothing by these things.
Notwithstanding all the shows and pretences which many
natural men make of respect to Christ, by speaking
honourably of him in their prayers, and in their common
conversation, and by coming to sacraments, and attending
other ordinances of Christ; yet indeed thev do not set
so much by all the glory and excellency of Christ — eiuier
of his person, or of his work as a Saviour — as they do by
the smallest earthly enjoyment.
I proceed now to mention some evidences of the truth
of this doctrine.
1 . They never give Christ any honour on account of his
glory and excellency. They may, and often do, pay Christ
an external and seeming respect ; but they do not honour
him in their hearts. They have no exalting thoughts of
Christ, no inward respect or reverence towards him. All
their outward worship is only feigned ; none of it arises
from any real honour or respect in their hearts towards
Christ. ' It is either only for fashion's sake, and in com
pliance with custom, or else it is forced, and what they
are driven to by fear, as we read, Psal. lxvi. 3. "Through
the greatness of thy power shall thine enemies submit
themselves unto thee. In the original it is, shall thine
enemies lie unto thee, i. e. yield a feigned obedience.
Through the greatness of Christ's power, and for fear of
his wrath, his enemies who have no respect or honour for
him in their hearts, will lie to him, and make a show of
respect when they have none.
An unbeliever is not sensible that Christ is worthy of
any glory, and therefore does not at all seek the glory of
Christ in any thing that he does ; he does nothing in re
ligion out of respect to Christ's glory, but wholly for other
ends ; which shows that he sees not Christ to be wordiy
of aiiy glory.— Christ is set last and lowest in the heart qf
an unbeliever. — He has high thoughts of otlier things ; he
has high thoughts of created objects and earthly enjoy
ments, but mean and low thoughts of Christ.
The unbeliever shows the mean and contemptible
thoughts that he has of Christ, in refusing to accept of
him, and in shutting the door of his heart against him.
Christ stands at the door and knocks, and sometimes
stands many years knocking at the door of his heart, but
he refuses to open to him. — Now it certainly shows that
men have a very mean thought of a person, when they
shut him out of their doors. Unbelievers show the mean
and dishonourable thoughts they have of Christ, in that
they dare not trust him. They believe not what he says
to be true : they will not trust the word of Christ, so far
as the word of one of their honest neighbours, or of a
servant whom they have found to be faithful. It also ap
pears that they have no real honour for Christ in their
hearts, in that they refuse to obey his commands. They
do nothing from a spirit of obedience to him : and that
external obedience which they render, is but a forced,
feigned obedience, and not from any respect to Christ's
authority or worthiness to be obeyed.
2. They have no love to him on account of his glory
and excellency. If they saw any excellency in Christ,
they would have some measure of love to him. But the
truth is, they see no form or comeliness in Christ, and
hence they have no love at all to him. An unbeliever
never exercises one act of true love to Christ. All that
he is told of his divine perfections, of his holiness, his
meekness, and grace, has no influence at all to draw forth

any love. The display of these things doth no more draw
forth love out of the heart of an unbeliever, than it draws
forth love from the stones and rocks.
A natural man hath no love of benevolence towards
Christ. Notwithstanding all that is declared to him of the
excellency of Christ, he has no good-will towards him.
He rejoices not in his glory and happiness ; he would not
care what became of Christ, if he could but escape hell.
If Christ should be dethroned, or should cease to be, he
has not so much good-will to Christ, as would make him
concerned about it. And if the kingdom and interest of
Christ in the world should go to ruin, it would be nowise
grievous to the unbeliever, provided his own interest could
be secure.
So also an unbeliever has no love of complacency in
Jesus Christ for his excellency. He takes no delight in
the consideration of that excellency of Christ of which he
is told. — He is told that it is exceedingly beautiful and
glorious ; but the thoughts of the glory of Christ are no
wise entertaining to him : he has no delight in the thoughts
of it, or in any contemplations upon it. He takes delight
in thinking of earthly objects ; but when he comes to
turn his mind upon Jesus Christ, if ever he so does, this
is to him a dry and barren subject : he finds nothing there
to feed and delight his soul ; no beauty or loveliness to
please or gratify him.
3. Unbelievers have no desires after the enjoyment of
Christ. If they did set any thing by the excellency of
Christ, they would have some desires after him on account
of that excellency ; especially when he is offered to them,
and is from time to time set forth as the proper object of
their choice and desires. That which men prize, they are
wont to desire, especially if it be represented to them as
attainable, and as fit and suitable for them. But unbe
lievers only desire to be delivered from hell, but not to
enjoy Christ.
They cannot conceive what happiness there can be in
beholding Christ and being with him, in seeing his holi
ness, and contemplating his wonderful grace and divine
glory. They have no relish for any such thing, nor appe
tite after it.
4. They show that they set at nought the glory and ex
cellency of Christ, in that they seek not a conformity to
that glory and excellency. A natural man may seek to be
holy, but it is not for holiness' sake, it is only that he may
escape wrath. He has no desires after holiness, nor is it
indeed holiness that he seeks, because he is all the while
an enemy to holiness. A natural man has no desires to
have his soul conformed to the glorious beauty and ex
cellency of Christ, nor to have his image upon him.
If he prized or delighted in the excellencies of Christ, he
would necessarily desire to be like him so far as he could.
— This we see in ourselves and in all men : when we see
any qualifications in others that are pleasing to us, it is
natural for us to endeavour to imitate, and to be con
formed to those persons. Hence men are apt to learn of
those for whom they have a great esteem : they naturally
fall into an imitation of their ways and manner of be
haviour. But natural men feel within themselves no dis
position or inclination to learn of Christ, or to imitate him.
Their tempers and dispositions remain quite contrary to
Christ's, neither do they grow at all better or more con
formed to him, but rather worse. 2 Tim. iii. 13. "Evil
men and seducers shall wax worse and worse."

APPLICATION.
I. This doctrine may teach us the heinousness of the
sin of unbelief, as this sin sets all the glory and excellency
of Christ at nought. It often appears strange to natural
men, that unbelief should be spoken of as such a heinous
and crying sin. They cannot see such evil in it. There
are other sins which often trouble their consciences, when
this troubles them not at all, though it be that which brings
far greater guilt upon them, than those sins about which
they are more troubled.
What has been said may show whv unbelief is spoken
of as a heinous sin, John iii. 18. and ch. xvi. 9. and 1 John
v. 10. For thereby all the glory of Christ is set at nought,

Serm. III.

UNBELIEVERS CONTEMN THE GLORY OF CHRIST.

63

though it be so great, though it be infinite, though it be the
glory of the Godhead itself, and though it has been so glo
riously manifested in what Christ has done and suffered.
Natural men in their unbelief cast contempt on all this
glory, and tread it under foot, as being nothing worth.
Their unbelief treats the excellency of Christ as being of
less value than the meanest earthly enjoyments.
II. This doctrine may convict natural men in four par
ticulars. 1. Hereby you may be convinced of the greatness of
your guilt. Consider how great and excellent that Person
is, whom you thus set at nought. Contempt of any per
son is heinous in proportion to the worthiness and dignity
of the person contemned. Though we are but worms of
the dust, and very vile, sinful creatures ; yet we take it
grievously when we are despised. Consider how you
yourselves are ready to resent it, when any of your neigh
bours seem to slight you, and set light by what you say
and do, and to make no account of it, but to treat you as if
you were good for nothing, or not worth minding. Do you
take this well of your neighbours and equals, when you
observe any thing of this nature ? Are you not ready to
look upon it with resentment, to think very ill of it, and to
judge that you have great cause to be offended ?
But if it be such a crime to despise you and set you at
nought, what is it to set at nought the eternal infinitely
glorious Son of God, in comparison with whom you and
all nations are nothing, and less than nothing, and vanity ?
You dislike it much to be contemned by your equals ; but
you would take it yet more grievously to be despised by
your inferiors, by those whom, on every account, you must
excel. — What a crime is it then for a vile, sinful worm, to
set at nought him who is the brightness ofthe glory of the
King of kings !
It would be a crime inexpressibly heinous, to set little
by the glory and excellency of such a person ; but it is
more so, to set nothing at all by it, as you do. You have
no value at all for it, as has been shown. And this is the
more aggravated, as Christ is a person whom you so much
need, and as he came into the world out of infinite grace
to sinners, to lay down his life to deliver them from hell,
and purchase for them eternal glory. How much has
Christ done and suffered, that you might have opportunity
to be saved ! Yet you set nothing by the blood of Christ,
even that blood that was shed for such poor sinners as you
are, and that is offered to you for your salvation. But you
trample under foot the blood ofthe Son of God. If Christ
had come into the world only to teach us, it would have
been a heinous thing to trample under foot his word and
instructions. Butwnen he came to die for us, how much
more heinous is it to trample under foot his blood !
Men take it hardly to have any of their qualifications or
actions despised, which they esteem commendable. But
especially do they highly resent it when others slight their
kindness. And above all when they put themselves out
of their way, and have denied themselves, and suffered
considerably to do others a kindness ; then to have their
kindness despised and set at nought, is what men would
above all things resent. How heinous then is it, and how
exceedingly provoking to God must it be, thus to set at
nought so great kindness and love of Christ, when from
love to sinners he suffered so much !
Consider how highly the angels, who are so much above
you, do set by the glory and excellency of Christ. They
admire and adore the glory of Christ, and cease not day
nor night to praise the same in the most exalted strains.
Rev. v. 11, 12. " And I beheld, and 1 heard the voice of
many angels round about the throne, and the beasts, and
the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand
times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands ; saying
with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to
receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and
honour, and glory, and blessing." The saints admire the
excellency of Christ, and the glorious angels admire it, and
every creature in heaven and earth, but only you unbe
lieving children of men.
Consider not only how much the angels set by the glory
of Christ, but how "much God himself sets by it : for he is
the darling of heaven, he was eternally God's delight ; and
because of his glory God hath thought him worthy to be

appointed the heir of all things, and hath seen fit to ordain
that all men should honour the Son even as they honour the
Father.— Is he thus worthy of the infinite* esteem and
love of God himself? and is he worthy of no esteem from
you ?
2. Hereby you may be convinced of your danger. You
must needs think that such guilt will bring great wrath.
Dreadful destruction is denounced in Scripture against
those that despise only the disciples of Christ, Matt, xviii.
6. What destruction then will come on them that despise
all the glorious excellency of Christ himself?
Consider that you not only have no value for all the
glory and excellency of Christ ; but you are enemies to
him on that very account. The very ground of that enmity
and opposition which there is between your hearts and
Jesus Christ, is the glorious perfections and excellencies
that there are in Jesus Christ. By being such a holy and
excellent Saviour, he is contrary to your lusts and corrup
tions. If there were a Saviour offered to you that was
agreeable to your corrupt nature, such a Saviour you would
accept. But Christ being a Saviour of such purity, holi
ness, and divine perfection, this is the cause why you have
no inclination to him, but are offended in him.
Instead of being a precious stone in your eyes, he is a
stone of stumbling and a rock of offence to you. That he
is a Saviour who hath manifested such divine perfections in
what he hath done and suffered, is one principal reason
why you set nothing by him. Consider how provoking
this must needs be to God the Father, who has given his
only-begotten Son for your salvation ; and what wrath it
merits from the Son whom you thus treat. And consider
how you will hereafter bear this wrath.
Consider that, however Christ be set at nought by you,
he shall be the head of the corner. Though you set him
low, yet he shall be exalted even with respect to you. It
is but avain thing for you to make light of Christ and treat
him with contempt. How much soever you contemn him,
you cannot break his bands asunder, nor cast his cords
from you. You will still be in his hands. While you
despise Christ, God will despise you, and the Lord will
have you in derision. God will set his King on his holy
hill of Zion in spite of all his enemies ; Psalm ii. 1 — 6.
Though you say, We will not have this man to reign over
us, yet Christ will rule over you ; Psalm ex. 2. " Rule
thou in the midst of thine enemies." If you will not sub
mit to the sceptre of his grace, you shall be subject to the
rod of his wrath, and he will rule you with a rod of iron ;
Psalm ii. 9—12.
3. You may hence be led to see how worthless many of
those things in yourselves are, that you have been ready to
make much of. Particularly, if you set nothing by all the
glory of Christ, what are those desires that you have after
Christ good for? and that willingness that you think you
find to come to Christ ? Sinners are often wont to excuse
themselves in their unbelief, because they see not but that
they are willing to come to Christ, and would gladly come
to him if they could. And they make much of such de
sires, as though God were unjust to punish them for not
coming to Christ, when they would gladly come if they
could. But this doctrine shows that your willingness and
desires to come lo Christ are not worthy to be mentioned
as any excuse ; for they are not from any respect to Christ,
but are merely forced ; you at the same time set nothing
by all his excellency and glory.
So you may hence learn the worthlessness of all your
pains and endeavours after Christ. When sinners have
taken a great deal of pains to get an interest in Christ, they
are wont to make a righteousness of it; little considering
that at the very time they are taking so much pains, they
set nothing at all by Christ for any glory or excellency
there is in him ; but set him wholly at nought, and seek
him out of respect to their own interest.
4. Hence learn how justly God might for ever refuse to
give you an interest in Christ. . For why should God give
you any part or interest in him whom you set at nought, all
whose glory and excellency you value not in the least, but
rather trample it under your feet.
Why should God give you any interest in him whom
you so despise ? seeing you despise him, how justly might
you be obliged to go without any. interest in him f How

64

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

justly might you be refused any part in that precious stone,
whose preciousness you esteem no more than that of the
stones of the street ! Is God obliged to cast such a pearl
before swine who will trample it under their feet ? Is God
obliged to make you possessors of his infinitely glorious

and dear Son, when at the same time you count him not
worth the having, for the sake of any worth or excellency
that there is in him; but merely because you cannot
escape hell without him ?

SERMON IV.*
THE FOLLY OF LOOKING BACK IN FLEEING OUT OF SODOM.

Luke xvii. 32.
Remember Lot's wife.
Christ here foretells his coming in his kingdom, in
answer to the question which the Pharisees asked him,
viz. When the kingdom qf God should come. And in what
he says of his coming, he evidently has respect to two
things ; his coming at the destruction of Jerusalem, and
his coming at the end of the world. He compares his
coming at those times to the coming of God in two remark
able judgments that were past ; first, to that in the time of
the flood ; " and as it was in the days of Noah, so shall it
be also in the days of the Son of man." Next, he com
pares it to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah ;
" likewise also, as it was in the days of Lot, even thus
shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed."
Then he immediately proceeds to direct his people how
they should behave themselves at the appearance of the
signal of that day's approach, referring especially to the
destruction of Jerusalem. " In that day, he which shall
be upon the house-top, and his stuff in the house, let him
not come down to take it away : and he that is in the field,
let him likewise not return back." In which words Christ
shows that they should make the utmost haste to flee and
fet out of the city to the mountains, as he commands,
latt. xxiv. 15, &c. — " When ye therefore shall see the
abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the pro
phet stand in the holy place, then let them which be in
Judea flee to the mountains ; let him which is in the
house-top not come down to take any thing out of the
house, neither let him which is in the field turn back to
take his clothes."
Jerusalem was like Sodom, in that it was devoted to
destruction, by special divine wrath; and indeed to a
more terrible destruction than that of Sodom. Therefore
the like direction is given concerning fleeing out of it with
the utmost haste, without looking behind, as the angel
gave to Lot, when he bid him flee out of Sodom, Gen.
xix. 17. " Escape for thy life; look not behind thee,
neither stay thou in all the" plain." And in the text Christ
enforces his counsel by the instance of Lot's wife. He bids
them remember her, and take warning by her, who looked
back as she was fleeing out of Sodom, and became a
pillar of salt.
If it be inquired why Christ gave this direction to his
people to flee out of Jerusalem, in such exceeding haste, at
the first notice of the signal of her approaching destruction ;
I answer, it seems to be, because fleeing out of Jerusalem
was a type of fleeing out of a state of sin. Escaping out
of that unbelieving city typified an escape out of a state of
unbelief. Therefore they were directed to flee without
staying to take any thing out of their houses, to signify
with what haste and concern we should flee out of a
natural condition, that no respect to any worldly enjoy
ment should prevent us one moment, and that we should
flee to Jesus Christ, the refuge of souls, our strong rock,
and the mount of our defence, so as, in fleeing to him, to
leave and forsake heartily all earthly things.
This seems to be the chief reason also why Lot was
directed to make such haste, and not to look behind ; be
cause his fleeing out of Sodom was designed on purpose
* Dated, May, 1735.

to be a type of our fleeing from that state of sin and misery
in which we naturally are.

DOCTRINE.
We ought not to look back when we are fleeing out of
Sodom. The following reasons may be sufficient to sup
port this doctrine :
1. That Sodom is a city full of filthiness and abomina
tions. It is full of those impurities that ought to be had
in the utmost abhorrence and detestation by all. The in
habitants of it are a polluted company, they are all under
the power and dominion of hateful lusts. All their faculties
and affections are polluted with those vile dispositions that
are unworthy of the human nature, that greatly debase it,
that are exceedingly hateful to God, and that dreadfully
incense his anger. Every kind of spiritual abomination
abounds in it. There is nothing so hateful and abominable
but that there it is to be found, and there it abounds.
Sodom is a city full of devils and all unclean spirits :
there they have their rendezvous, and there they have their
dominion. There they sport, and wallow in filthiness, as
it is said of mystical Babylon, Rev. xviii. 2. Babylon
is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every
foul spirit, and the cage of every unclean and hateful
bird. — Who would be of such a society ? who would not
flee from such a city with the utmost haste, and never
look back upon it, and never have the least inclination of
returning ?
Some in Sodom may seem to carry a fair face, and make
a fair outward show; but if we could look into their
hearts, they are every one altogether filthy and abomi
nable. We ought to flee from such a city, with the utmost
abhorrence of the place and society, with no desires to
dwell longer there, and never to discover the least inclina
tion to return to it ; but should be desirous to get to the
greatest possible distance from it, that we might in no
wise be partakers in her abominations.
2. We ought not to look back when fleeing out of
Sodom, because Sodom is a city appointed to destruction.
The cry of the city hath reached up to heaven. The earth
cannot bear such a burden as her inhabitants are ; she will
therefore disburden herself of them, and spew them out.
God will not suffer such a city to stand ; he Will consume
it. God is holy, and his nature is infinitely opposite to
all such uncleanness ; he will therefore be a consuming
fire to it. The holiness of God will not suffer it to stand,
and the majesty and justice of God require that the in
habitants of that city who thus offend and provoke him
be destroyed. And God will surely destroy them ; it is
the immutable and irreversible decree of God. — He hath
said it, and he will do it. The decree is gone forth, and
so sure as there is a God, and he is almighty, and able to
fulfil his decrees and threatenings, so surely will he destroy
Sodom. Gen. xix. 12, 13. "Whatsoever thou hast in
this city, bring them out of this place ; for we will destroy
this place, because the cry of them is waxen great before
the face of the Lord, and the Lord hath sent us to destroy
it." And in ver. 14. " Up, get ye out of this place, for the
Lord will destroy this city."
This city is an accursed city ; it is destined to ruin.—

Serm. IV.

THE FOLLY OF LOOKING BACK, Sec.

65

Therefore, as we would not be partakers of her curse, and
would not be destroyed, we should flee out of it, and not
look behind us, Rev. xviii. 4. " Come out of her, my
people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye
receive not of her plagues."
3. We ought not to look back when fleeing out of Sodom,
because the destruction to which it is appointed is exceed
ingly dreadful : it is appointed to utter destruction, to be
wholly and entirely consumed. It is appointed to suffer
the wrath of the great God, which is to be poured down
from God upon it, like a dreadful storm of fire and brim
stone. This city is to be filled full of the wrath of God.
Every one that remains in it shall have the fire of God's
wrath come down on his head and into his soul : he shall
be full of fire and full of the wrath of the Almighty.
He shall be encompassed with fire without and full of fire
within : his head, nis heart, his bowels, and all his limbs
shall be full of fire, and not a drop of water to cool him.
Nor shall he have any place to flee to for relief. Go
where he will, there is the fire of God's wrath : his de
struction and torment will be inevitable. — He shall be de
stroyed without any pity. He shall cry aloud, but tliere
shall be none to help, there shall be none to regard his
lamentations, or to afford relief. The decree is gone forth,
and the days come when Sodom shall burn as an oven,
and all the inhabitants thereof shall be as stubble. As it
was in the literal Sodom, the whole city was full of fire :
in their houses there was no safety, for they were all on
fire ; and if they fled out into the streets, they also were
full of fire. Fire continually came down out of heaven
every where. — That was a dismal time. What a cry was
'¦ there then in that city, in every part of it ! But there was
none to help -; they had no where to go, where they could
hide their heads from fire : they had none to pity or re
lieve them. If they fled to their friends, they could not
help them.
. Now, with what haste should we flee from a city ap
pointed to such a destruction ! and how should we flee
without looking behind us ! how should it be our whole
intent, to get at the greatest distance from a city in such
circumstances ! how far should we be from thinking at all
of returning to a city which has such wrath hanging over it !
4. The destruction to which Sodom is appointed is an
universal destruction. None that stay in it shall escape :
none will have the good fortune to be in any by-corner,
where the fire will not search them out. All sorts, old and
young, great and small, shall be destroyed. There shall
be no exception of any age, or any sex, or any condition,
but all shall perish together. Gen. xix. 24, 25. " Then
the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brim
stone and fire from the Lord out of heaven, and he over
threw those cities and all the plain, and all the inhabitants
of the cities, and that which grew upon the ground." We
therefore must not delay or look behind us ; for there is no
place of safety in Sodom, nor in all the plain on which
Sodom is built. The mountain of safety is before us, and
not behind us.
5. The destruction to which Sodom is appointed is an
everlasting destruction. This is said of the literal Sodom,
that it suffered the vengeance of eternal fire, Jude 7.
" Even as Sodom and Gomorrah, and the cities about
them, in like manner, giving themselves over to fornication,
and going after strange flesh, are set forth for an example,
suffering the vengeance of eternal fire." The destruction
that Sodom and Gomorrah suffered was an eternal de
struction : those cities were destroyed, and have never
been built since, and are not capable of being rebuilt ; for
the land on which they stood at the time of their destruc
tion sunk, and has been ever since covered with the lake
of Sodom or the Dead sea, or as it is called in Scripture,
the Salt sea. This seems to have been thus ordered on
purpose to be a type of the eternal destruction of ungodly
men. So that fire by which they were destroyed is called
eternal fire, because it was so typically, it was a type of
the eternal destruction of ungodly men ; which may be in
part what is intended, when it is said in that text in Jude,
that they were set forth for an example, or for a type or
representation of the eternal fire in which all the ungodly
are to be consumed.
Sodom has in all ages since been covered with a lake
VOL. II. F

which was first brought on it by fire and brimstone, to be
a type of the lake of fire and brimstone in which ungodly
men shall have their part for ever and ever, as we read
Rev. xx. 15. and elsewhere. — We ought not therefore to
look back when fleeing out of Sodom, seeing that the
destruction to which it is appointed is an eternal destruc
tion ; for this renders the destruction infinitely dreadful.
6. Sodom is a city appointed to swift and sudden de
struction. The destruction is not only certain and inevita
ble, and infinitely dreadful, but it will come speedily.
" Their judgment lingereth not, and their damnation slum-
bereth not f 2 Pet. ii. 3. And so Deut. xxxii. 35. " The
day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall
come upon them make haste." — The storm of wrath, the
black clouds of divine vengeance, even now every moment
hang over them, just ready to break forth and come down
in a dreadful manner upon them. God hath already whet
his sword and bent his bow, and made ready his arrow on
the string, Psalm vii. 12. Therefore we should make haste,
and not look behind us. For if we linger and stop to look
back, and flee not for our lives, there is great danger that
we shall be involved in the common ruin.
The destruction of Sodom is not only swift, but will
come suddenly and unexpectedly. — Jt seems to have been
a fair morning in Sodom before it was destroyed. Gen.
xix. 23. It seems that there were no clouds to be seen,
no appearance of any storm at all, much less of a storm
of fire and brimstone. The inhabitants of Sodom expect
ed no such thing ; even when Lot told his sons-in-law of
it, they would not believe it; Gen. xix. 14. — They were
making merry ; their hearts were at ease, they thought no
thing of such a calamity at hand. But it came at once,
as travail upon a woman with child, and there was no
escaping ; as ver. 28, 29. " They did eat, they drank ; they
bought, they sold ; they planted, they builded : but the
same day that Lot went out of Sodom, it rained fire and
brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all."
So it is with wicked men ; Psalm lxxiii. 19. " How are
they brought into desolation in a moment ! they are utter
ly consumed with terrors." — If therefore we linger and
look back, we may be suddenly overtaken and seized with
destruction. 7. There is nothing in Sodom that is worth looking back
upon. All the enjoyments of Sodom will soon perish
in the common destruction ; all will be burnt up. And
surely it is not worth the while to look back on things that
are perishing and consuming in the flames, as it is with all
the enjoyments of sin ; they are all appointed to the fire.
Therefore it is foolish for any who are fleeing out of Sodom
to hanker any more after them ; for when they are burnt
up, what good can they do ? And is it worth the while for
us to return back for the sake of a moment's enjoyment of
them, before they are burnt, and so expose ourselves to
be burnt up with them ?
Lot's wife looked back, because she remembered the
pleasant things that she left in Sodom. She hankered
after them ; she could not but look back with a wishful
eye upon the city, where she had lived in such ease and
pleasure. Sodom was a place of great outward plenty ;
they ate the fat, and drank the sweet. The soil about
Sodom was exceedingly fruitful ; it is said to be as the
garden qf God, Gen. xii. 10. And fulness of bread was
one of the sins of the place, Ezek. xvi. 49.
Here Lot and his wife lived plentifully ; and it was a
place where the inhabitants wallowed in camal pleasures
and delights. But however much it abounded in these
things, what were they worth now, when the city was
burning ? Lot's wife was very foolish in lingering in her
escape, for the sake of things which were all on fire. — So
the enjoyments, the profits, and pleasures of sin, have the
wrath and curse of God on them : brimstone is scattered
on them ; hell-fire is ready to kindle on them. It is not
therefore worth while for any person to look back after
such things.
8. We are warned by messengers sent to us from God
to make haste in our flight from Sodom, and not to look be
hind us. God sends to us his ministers, the angels of the
churches^ on this grand errand, as he sent the angels to
warn Lot and his wife to flee for their lives, Gen. xix. 15,
16. — If we delay or look back, now that we have had such

GO

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

fair warning, we shall be exceedingly inexcusable and
monstrously foolish. *
APPLICATION.
The use that I would make of this doctrine, is to warn
those who are in a natural condition to flee out of it, and
by no means to look back. While you are out of Christ,
you are in Sodom. The whole history of the destruction
of Sodom, with all its circumstances, seems to be inserted
in the Scriptures for our warning, and is set forth for an
example, as the apostle Jude says., lt in a lively manner
typifies the case of natural men, the destruction of those
that continue in a natural state, and the manner of their
escape who flee to Christ. The psalmist, when speaking
of the appointed punishment of ungodly men, seems evi
dently to refer to the destruction of Sodom, Psalm xi. 6.
" Upon the wicked God shall rain snares, fire, and brim
stone, and an horrible tempest : this shall be the portion
of their cup."
Consider therefore, you that are seeking an interest in
Christ, you are to flee out of Sodom. Sodom is the
place of your nativity, and the place where you have
spent your lives. You are citizens of that city which is
full of filthiness and abomination before God, that pol
luted and accursed city. You belong to that impure so
ciety. You not only live among them, but you are of
them, you have committed those abominations, and have
so provoked God as you have heard. It is you that I
have all this while been speaking of under this doctrine ;
you are the inhabitants of Sodom. Perhaps you may look
on your circumstances as not very dreadful ; but you dwell
in Sodom. — Though you maybe reformed, and appear with
a clean outside, and a smooth face to the world ; yet as long
as you are in a natural condition, you are impure inhabit
ants of Sodom.
The world of mankind is divided into two companies,
or, as I may say, into two cities : there is the city of
Zion, the church of God, the holy and beloved city ; and
there is Sodom, that polluted and accursed city, which is
appointed to destruction. You belong to the latter of
these. How much soever you may look upon yourselves

as better than some others, you are of the same city ; the
same company with fornicators, and drunkards, and adul
terers, and common swearers, and highwaymen, and
pirates, and Sodomites. How much soever you may
think yourselves distinguished, as long as you are out of
Christ you belong to the very same society ; you are of
the company, you join with them, and are no better than
they, any otherwise than as you have greater restraints.
You are considered in the sight of God as fit to be ranked
with them. You and they are altogether the objects of
loathing and abhorrence, and have the wrath of God abid
ing on you ; you will go with them and be destroyed with
them, if you do not escape from your present state. Yea,
you are of the same society and the same company with
the devils, for Sodom is not only the city of wicked men,
but it is the hold of every foul spirit.
You belong to that city which is appointed to an awful,
inevitable, universal, swift, and sudden destruction ; a
city that hath a storm of fire and wrath hanging over it.
Many of you are convinced of the awful state you are in
while in Sodom, and are making some attempts to escape
from the wrath which hangs over it. Let such be warned
by what has been said, lo escape for their lives, and not
to look back. Look not back, unless you choose to have a
share in the burning tempest that is coming down on that
city. — Look not back in remembrance of the enjoyments
which you have had in Sodom, as hankering after the
pleasant things which you have had there, after the ease, the
security, and the pleasure which you have there enjoyed.
Remember Lot's wife, for she looked back, as being
loth utterly and for ever to leave the ease, the pleasure, ,
and plenty which she enjoyed in Sodom, and as having a
mind to return to them again : remember what became of
her. — Remember the children of Israel in the wilderness,
who were desirous of going back again into Egypt.
Numb. xi. 5. " We remember the flesh which we did eat
in Egypt freely, the cucumbers, and the melons, and the
leeks and onions, and the garlick." Remember what was
the issue. You must be willing for ever to leave all the
ease, and pleasure, and profit of sin, to forsake all for sal
vation, as Lot forsook all, and left all he had, lo escape1
out of Sodom.

SERMON V.
THE FOLLY OF LOOKING BACK IN FLEEING OUT OF SODOM.

Luke xvii. 32.
Remember Lot's wife.
The doctrine from these words was, That we ought not
to look . back when we are fleeing out qf Sodom. — Having
confirmed this doctrine by several reasons, we came to the
application of it in a use of warning lo sinners in a na
tural state, and especially to those who are awakened and
convinced of the awful state in which they are, and are
desirous of escaping the wrath which is to come. And
further to enforce this warning, let me entreat all you who
are in this state, to consider the several things which I
shall now mention :
1. The destruction of which you are in danger is infi
nitely more dreadful than that destruction of the literal
Sodom from which Lot fled. The destruction of Sodom
and Gomorrah in a storm of fire and brimstone, was but a
shadow of the destruction of ungodly men in hell, and is
no more to it than a shadow or a picture is to a reality, or
than painted fire is to real fire. The misery of hell is set
forth by various shadows and images in Scripture, as
blackness of darkness, a never-dying worm, a furnace of
fire, a lake of fire and brimstone, the torments of the val
ley of the son of Hinnom, a storm of fire and brimstone.

The reason why so many similitudes are used, is because
none of them are sufficient. Any one does but partly and
very imperfectly represent the truth, and therefore God
makes use of many.
You have therefore much more need to make haste in
your escape, and not to look behind you, than Lot and
his wife had when they fled out of Sodom ; for you are
every day and every moment in danger of a thousand
times more dreadful storm coming on your heads, than
that which came on Sodom, when the Lord rained brim
stone and fire from the Lord out of heaven upon them ;
so that it will be vastly more sottish in you to look back
than it was in Lot's wife.
2. The destruction of which you are in danger is not
only greater than the temporal destruction of Sodom, but
greater than the eternal destruction of the inhabitants of
Sodom. For however well you may think you have be
haved yourselves, you who have continued impenitent
under the glorious gospel, have sinned more, and provoked
God far more, and have greater guilt upon you, than the in
habitants of Sodom ; although you may seem to yourselves,
and perhaps to others, to be very harmless creatures.
Matt. x. 15. "Verily I say unto you, it shall be more
tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of- judg
ment, than for that city."

Serm. V.

THE FOLLY OF LOOKING BACK, &,c.

(37

3. Multitudes, while they have been looking back, have
been suddenly overtaken and seized by the storm of wrath.
The wrath of God hath not delayed, while they have de
layed ; it has not waited at all for them to turn about and
flee ; but has presently seized them, and they have been
past hope. When Lot's wife looked back, she was imme
diately destroyed, God had exercised patience towards
her before. When she lingered at the setting out, the
angels pressed her, and her husband and children, to make
haste. Not only so, but when they yet delayed, they
brought her forth, and set her without the city, the Lord
being merciful to her. But now when, notwithstanding
this mercy, and the warnings which had been given her,
she looked back, God exercised no more patience towards
her, but proceeded immediately to put her to death.
Now God has in like manner been merciful to you.
You in time past have been lingering ; you have been
warned by the angel of your danger, and pressed to make
haste and flee ; yet you have delayed. And now at length
God hath as it were laid hold on you, by the convictions
of his Spirit, to draw you out of Sodom ; and therefore
remember Lot's wife. If now, after all, you should look
back, when God hath been so merciful to you, you will
have reason to fear, that God will suddenly destroy you.
Multitudes, when they have been looking back, and putting
off to another time, have never had another opportunity ;
they have been suddenly destroyed, and that without
remedy. 4. If you look back, and live long after it, there will be
great danger that you will never get any further. The
only way to seek salvation is to press forward with all your
might, and still to look and press forward, never to stand
still or slacken your pace. When Lot's wife stopped in
her flight and stood still in order that she might look, her
punishment was, that there she was to stand for ever ; she
never got any further ; she never got beyond that place :
but there she stood as a pillar of salt, a durable pillar and
monument of wrath, for her folly and wickedness.
So it was very often with backsliders, though they may
live a considerable time after. When they look" back,
after they have been taking pains for their salvation, they
lose all, they put themselves under vast disadvantages ;
by quenching the Spirit of God, and losing their convic
tions, they dreadfully harden their own hearts, and stupify
their souls. They make way for discouragements,
dreadfully strengthen and establish the interest of sin in
their hearts, many ways give Satan great advantages to
ruin them, and provoke God oftentimes utterly to leave
them to hardness of heart. When they come to look
back, their souls presently become dead and hard like the
body of Lot's wife. And though they live long after, they
never get any further ; it is worse for them than if they were
immediately damned. When persons in fleeing "out of
Sodom look back, their last case is far worse than the first ;
Matt. xii. 43, 44, 45. And experience confirms, that none
ordinarily are so hard to be brought to repentance as
backsliders. 5. It may well stir you up to flee for your lives, and
not to look behind you, when you consider how many have
lately fled to the mountain, while you yet remain in
Sodom. To what multitudes hath God given the wisdom
to flee to Christ, the mountain of safety ! They have fled
to the little city Zoar, which God will spare and never
destroy. How many have you seen of all sorts resorting
out of Sodom thither, as believing the word of God by the
angels, that God would surely destroy that place. They
are in a safe condition ; they are got out of the reach of the
storm ; the fire and brimstone can do them no hurt there.
But you yet remain in that cursed city among that ac
cursed company. You are yet in Sodom, which God is
about so terribly to destroy, where you are in danger every
minute of having snares, fire, and brimstone, come down
on your head.— Though so many have obtained, yet you
have not obtained deliverance. Good has come, but you
have seen none of it. Others are happy, but no man
knows what will become of you : you have no part nor
lot in that glorious salvation of souls, which has lately
been among us  The consideration of this should stir you
* The time ofthe revival of religion at Northampton, A. D. 1735.
i'' 2

up effectually to escape, and in your escape to press for
ward — still to press forward — and to resolve to press for
ward for ever, let what will be in the way, to hearken to
no temptation, and never to look back, or in any wise
slacken or abate your endeavours as long as you live, but
if possible to increase in them more and more.
, 6. Backsliding after such a time as this,* will have a
vastly greater tendency to seal a man's damnation than at
another time. The greater means men have, the louder
calls and the greater advantages they are under, the more
dangerous is backsliding, the more it has a tendency to
enhance guilt, to provoke God, and to harden the heart.
We, in this land of light, have long enjoyed greater ad
vantages than most of the world. But the advantages
which persons are under now for their salvation, are per
haps tenfold what they have been at such times as we have
ordinarily lived in; and backsliding will be proportion
ably the greater sin, and the more dangerous to the soul.
You have seen God's glory and his wonders amongst us,
in a most marvellous manner. — If therefore you look back
after this, there will be great danger that God will swear
in his wrath, that you shall never enter into his rest ; as
God sware concerning them that were for going back into
Egypt, after they had seen the wonders which God
wrought for Israel. Numb. xiv. 22, 23. " Because all
those men that have seen my glory and my miracles that
I did in Egypt, and in the wilderness, and have tempted
me now these ten times, and have not hearkened to my
voice ; surely they shall not see the land which I sware
unto their fathers, neither shall any of them that provoked
me see it." — Tlie wonders that we have seen among us of
late, have been of a more glorious nature than those that
the children of Israel saw in Egypt and in the wilderness.
7. We know not but that great part of the wicked
world are, at this day, in Sodom's circumstances, when
Lot fled out of it ; having some outward, temporal de
struction hanging over it. It looks as if some great thing
were coming ; the state of things in the world seems to be
ripe for some great revolution. The world has got to such
a terrible degree of wickedness, that it is probable the cry
of it has reached up to heaven ; and it is hardly probable
that God will suffer things to go on, as they now do, much
longer. It is likely that God will ere long appear in awful
majesty to vindicate his own cause ; and then none will
be safe that are out of Christ. Now therefore every one
should flee for his life, and escape to the mountain, lest he
be consumed. We cannot certainly tell what God is about
to do, but this we may know, that those who are out of
Christ are in a most unsafe state.
8. To enforce this warning against looking back, let me
beseech you to consider the exceeding proneness to it there
is in the heart. The heart of man is a backsliding heart.
There is in the heart a great love and hankering desire after
the ease, pleasure, and enjoyments of Sodom, as there
was in Lot's wife, by which persons are continually liable
to temptations to look back. The heart is so much
towards Sodom, that it is a difficult thing to keep the eye
from turning that way, and the feet from tending thither.
When men under convictions are put upon fleeing, it is a
mere force, it is because God lays hold on their hands, as
he did on Lot's and his wife's, and drags them so far.
But the tendency of the heart is to go back to Sodom.
Persons are very prone to backsliding also through dis
couragement. The heart is unsteady, soon tired, and apt
to listen to discouraging temptations. A little difficulty
and delay soon overcome its feeble resolutions. And dis
couragement tends to backsliding : it weakens persons'
hands, lies as a dead weight on their hearts, and makes
them drag heavily ; and if it continue long, it very often
issues in security and senselessness. Convictions are often
shaken off that way : they begin first to go off with dis
couragement. Backsliding is a disease that is exceeding secret in its
way of working. It is a flattering distemper; it works
like a consumption, wherein persons often flatter them
selves that they are not worse, but something, better, and
in a hopeful way to recover, till a few days before they die.
So backsliding commonly comes on gradually, and steals

¦68
on men insensibly, and they still flatter themselves . that
they are not backslidden. — They plead that they are seek
ing yet, and they hope they have not lost their convictions.
And by the time they find it out, and cannot pretend so
any longer, they are commonly so far gone, that they care
not much if they have lost their convictions. And when
it is come to that, it is commonly a gone case as to those
convictions. Thus they blind themselves, and keep them
selves insensible of their own disease, and so are not
terrified with it, nor awakened to use means for relief, till
it is past cure.

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

Thus it is that backsliding commonly comes upon per
sons that have for some time been under any considerable <
convictions, and afterwards lose them. Let the consider
ation of this your danger excite you to the greatest care
and diligence to keep your hearts, and to watchfulness and
constant prayer against backsliding. And let it put you
upon endeavours to strengthen your resolutions of guard
ing against every thing that tends to the contrary, that you
may indeed hold out to the end, for then shall you know, if
you follow on to know the Lord.

SERMON VI.*

THE WARNINGS OF SCRIPTURE ARE IN THE BEST MANNER ADAPTED TO THE
AWAKENING AND CONVERSION OF SINNERS.

Luke xvi. 31.
And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the
propliets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose
from the dead.
We here have an account how the rich man in hell —
after he had in vain begged of Abraham to send Lazarus
to his relief — prays that Lazarus may be sent to his brethren
to warn them, that they might take care for their salvation,
and escape that place of torment. By the way, it may be
proper to remark, that we cannot from this conclude, that
the damned will have any workings of natural affection to
their near relations in this world, or any concern for their
salvation. The design of Christ was only parabolically to
represent what different thoughts worldly and wicked men
will have of things, when in hell, from what they have
while upon earth. The rich man, when he was upon earth,
only minded his honour, ease, and pleasure, and did not
think it worth while to take care of his soul, and to be at
much pains to escape hell. But now he is of another
mind, and is sensible that if his five brethren, who live in
the same careless neglect of their souls as he did, knew
what hell is, they would take more care.
But this seems to be put into the parable chiefly to in
troduce what follows, the reply which Abraham made to
him, They have Moses and the prophets, let them hear them.
As much as to say, They have already abundant warning
and instruction, which God himself hath provided for
them, let them make use of that.
The rich man replies, Nay, Father Abraham, but if one
went unto them from the dead, they will repent. Then
come in the words of the text, And he said unto him, If
they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be
persuaded, though one rose from the dead. By Moses and
the prophets is meant the whole Old Testament, which was
the whole canon of Scripture which they had in those
times. The hearing of them implies, attending to what
they say, believing them, and obeying them — they would
not be persuuded~that is, they would not be persuaded to
take thorough care of their souls, to forsake their sins and
turn to God, so as to avoid this place of torments — though
one rose from the dead ; though one should go from the
invisible world, either from heaven, where they see the
torments of the damned, or from hell, where they feel
them.
DOCTRINE.
The warnings of God's word are more fitted to obtain
the ends of awakening sinners, and bringing them to re
pentance, than the rising of one from the dead to warn
them. In this passage, Moses and the prophets seem not only
* Not dated.

to be equalized to the warnings of one from the invisible
world, but to be preferred before them. They have Moses
and the prophets, let them hear them : they have already
those means which God in his infinite wisdom hath seen
to be fittest for them, and more suitable to their nature and
circumstances, than the rising of one from the dead. — But
whether there can be any more than an equality necessarily.
inferred or not ; yet if only the warnings of the Old Testa
ment have an equal tendency to bring men to repentance^
as the rising of one from the dead ; then surely these,
together with the much clearer revelation under the gospel-
dispensation by Christ and his apostles — wherein we are
abundantly more plainly told of another world, and
wherein life and immortality are brought to light — must
have a much greater tendency and fitness to obtain these
ends. Sinners are apt to find fault with the means of grace
which they enjoy, and to say with themselves, If I had
ever seen hell, or had ever heard the cries of the damned,
or had ever seen a person who had felt hell-torments, or
had seen them at a distance, that would awaken me ; then
I would forsake all my sins, and would do whatever I
could to escape hell. But now I am only told of hell in
the Bible and by ministers ; and there never was any in
this world that saw or felt it : so that I am ready to think
it is mere delusion and fancy. How do I know that there
is any hell ? How do I know but that when I die there
will be an end of me ?
But it is the indisposition of sinners to this great work,
to which they are directed, which makes them find fault
with their means and advantages. The slothful and neg
ligent, who hate to bestir themselves, are they who object.
" The way of the slothful is as a hedge of thorns." —
Sinners know not what they would have. They are fixedly
averse to breaking off their sins by righteousness ; and to
make the matter the more excusable, they object against
the sufficiency of their means, and so they will not be
lieve, except they see hell, or see some person who has
seen it.
But God, who knows our nature and circumstances,
knows what is most adapted to them. He who made the
faculties of our souls, knows what will have the greatest
tendency to move them, and to work upon them. He.
who is striving with us, to bring us to repentance and sal-;
vation, uses the fittest and best means. In contriving and
appointing the means of our salvation, he chooses better.
for us than we should for ourselves.
Suppose a person should rise from the dead to warn
sinners, either from heaven, where they see the misery
of the damned, or from hell, where they feel it ; and should
tell how dismal those torments are, having seen or felt
them ; and suppose he should confirm what he said, by
declaring that he had seen the smoke of their torments, the
raging of the flames, the dreadful crew of devils and

Serm. VI.

SCRIPTURE WARNINGS BEST ADAPTED, &c.

69

damned souls together, and had heard their dismal cries
and shrieks ; or suppose he should say that he had felt
. them, and should express by words and actions the dole
ful state of the damned and the extremity of their torments ;
this would probably greatly fright and terrify many sinners
who were not terrified by reading the Bible, nor'by hear
ing preaching about hell-torments. But it would be very
much because of the unusualness and strangeness of the
thing. Men are apt to be much affected with strange
things, and to be much affrighted by spectres in the dark,
because they1 are unusual. But if they were as common
as preaching is, they would lose their effect.
It might be that on such an unusual occasion, as the
rising of one from the dead, for awhile men would reform
their lives, and possibly some might be so affected as
never to forget it. But we are to consider which would
have the greatest tendency to awaken us, if both were
alike new and unusual, to be warned of the misery of hell
by the great God himself, declaring as it were from heaven
how dreadful hell is, and abundantly warning us about it;
or to be warned only by a man coming from the invisible
world, who had either seen or felt these miseries. It is in
this view that we shall consider the matter ; and we shall
show what advantages the former mode of warning has
above the latter : or how the warnings of God's word
have a greater tendency to awaken sinners and bring them
to repentance, than the rising of one from the dead to warn
them. 1. God, in many respects, knows better what belongs to
the punishment of sinners than departed souls. Departed
souls doubtless know what hell-torments are, much better
than any on earth. The souls of the wicked feel them,
and the souls of the saints see them afar off. God glorifies
his justice in the punishment of ungodly men, in the view
of the saints and angels, and thereby makes them the
more admire the riches of his goodness in choosing them
to life. As the rich man saw Lazarus in heaven afar off,
so Lazarus saw the rich man in hell ; he saw hell-torments ;
and therefore the rich man desires he may be sent to warn
his brethren. — And if one should rise from the dead to
warn wicked men, if it would at all awaken them, it would
be because he knew what hell-torments were by his own
knowledge, and could describe them to others, as having
seen and felt them.
But surely the all-seeing God knows as well as any of
the dead, what the present sufferings of the damned are.
He is every where present with his all-seeing eye. He is
in heaven and in hell, and in and through every part of
the creation. He is where every devil is ; and where
every damned soul is, he is present by his knowledge and
his essence. He not only knows as wellas those in heaven,
who see at a distance ; but he knows as perfectly as those
who feel the misery. He seeth into the innermost recesses
of the hearts of those miserable spirits. He seeth all the
sorrow and anguish that are there ; for he upholds them
in being. They and all the powers of their spirits, whereby
they are capable of either happiness or misery, are in his
hands. Besides, it is his wrath they endure ; he measures out
to them their several portions of punishment ; he makes
his wrath enter into them ; he is a consuming fire to them ;
his anger is that fire, in which they are tormented. He
therefore is doubtless able lo give us as clear and distinct,
and as true, an account of hell, as the damned themselves,
if they should rise from the dead. He needs not any to
inform him.
He knows far better what the eternity of those torments
is than any of them. He can better tell us how awful a
thing eternity is. He knows better what the future judg
ment of sinners will be, when the Lord Jesus shall come
in flaming fire to take vengeance on them that know not
God, and obey not the gospel. He knows far better than
they how much the torment of the wicked will then be
increased. 2. We have the truth upon surer grounds from God's
testimony, than we could have it from the testimony of one
rising from the dead. Suppose one should rise from the
dead, and tell us of the dreadfulness of hell-torments ;
how precarious a foundation would that be to build upon,
in a matter of such importance, unless we consider it as

confirmed by divine testimony. We should be uncertain
whether there were not some delusion in the case. We
know that it is impossible for God to lie ; and we may
know that the matter is just as he declares it to us. But if
one should come from the dead, we could not be so sure that
we were no way imposed upon. We could not be so sure
that he who testified was not himself subject to some
delusion. We could not be sure that tlie matter was
not strained too high, and represented greater than it
really is.
One coming from the dead could not, merely by force
of his own testimony, make us sure that we should! come
to that place of torments if we did not repent and reform.
And if there should come more witnesses than one from
the dead, if there should be ever so many, yet there is no
authority equal to that of God ; there is no testimony of
spirits from the invisible world which would be so indis
putable and unquestionable as the divine testimony. How
could we know, unless by some divine revelation, that
they who should come from the dead had not come to
deceive us ? How could we know how wicked, or how
good they were, and upon what views they acted ?
Whereas we have the greatest ground to be assured,
that the First Being, and the Fountain of all being and per
fection, is nothing but light and truth itself, and therefore
that it is impossible he should deceive or be deceived.
3. The warnings of God's word have greatly the ad
vantage, by reason of the greatness and majesty of him
who speaks. The speeches and declarations of those who
are great, excellent, and honourable, have a greater ten
dency to move the affections, than the declarations of
others who are less excellent. Things spoken by a king
affect more than the same things spoken by a mean man.
But God is infinitely greater than kings ; he is universal
King of heaven and earth, the absolute Sovereign of all
things. Now, what can have a greater tendency to strike
the mind and move the heart, than to be warned by this
great and glorious Being ? Shall we be unmoved when he
speaks who made heaven and earth by the word of his
power? If his immediate speeches, declarations, and
warnings, will not influence us, what will ? Isa. i. 2 .
" Hear, 0 heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord
hath spoken." — That is to the present purpose which we
have in Matt. xxi. 37. " But last of all he sent his son,
saying, They will reverence my son." He sent his ser
vants before, but they did not regard them. He therefore
sent his son, who was a much greater and more honour
able messenger, and said, Surely they will regard him.
What if God should send messengers from the dead to
warn us, even many in succession, and men should reject
them ; we should justly argue, that it would have a much
greater tendency to make men regard and obey the coun
sel, if he would send his Son, or come himself. But God
hath sent his Son, and therein he hath come himself. He
came down from heaven, and took upon him our nature,
and dwelt among us, teaching and warning us concerning
hell and damnation.
In the Bible, we not only have those warnings which
were given by inspiration of the prophets, but we have
God's own words, which he spake as it were by his own
mouth. In the Old Testament is his voice out of the
midst of the fire and the darkness, from mount Sinai ; and
in the New Testament, we have God speaking to us, as
dwelling among us. He came down from heaven, and
instructed us in a familiar manner for a long while ; and
we have his instructions recorded in our Bibles. — Now,
which has the greatest tendency to influence men, to have
one of the departed spirits sent back into its body to
warn them, or to have God himself assume a body and
warn them ?
4. It more evidently shows the importance of the affair,
that God should immediately concern himself in it, than
the coming of one from the dead would do. Those things
about which kings most immediately concern themselves
are commonly matters of the greatest importance, while
they leave less concernments to be managed by their
officers. And surely that must be a matter of very great
moment, in which God shows himself so much concerned
as he does in our salvation. God, in all ages of the world,
hath showed himself very much concerned in this matter.

70

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

How abundantly hath he warned us in his holy word?
How earnest hath he shown himself in it ! How many
arguments and expostulations hath he used, that we might
avoid the way to hell '.—This evidently argues, that what
we are warned about is a matter of the utmost concern,
and proves it much more than if we were only warned by
one risen from the dead.
5. God warning us of our danger of damnation hath a
greater tendency lo have influence upon us, because he is
our Judge. Damnation is a punishment to which he con
demns and which he inflicts. What he warns us of is his
own wrath and vengeance. In his word we have his
threatenings against sin denounced by himself. He tells
us, that if we go on in sin, he will destroy us, and cast us
out of his sight, and pour out his wrath upon us, and hold
us eternally under misery. He tells us so himself; and
this hath a much greater tendency to influence us, than to
be told so by another, who is not to be our judge, who
hath not in his hands the power of making us miserable.—
When a king immediately threatens his own displeasure, it
has a greater tendency to terrify men, than when another
man threatens it, or warns them of the danger.
6. God is infinitely wise, and knows better how to speak
to us so as to persuade us, than one risen from the dead.
He perfectly knows our nature and state, and knows how
lo adapt his instructions and warnings to our frame and
circumstances in the world ; and without doubt that
method which God has chosen, is agreeable to his infinite
wisdom, and most adapted to our nature.
If one should come from hell to warn sinners, it may be
he would tell them of hell in such a manner as would have
more of a tendency to drive men into despair, and set
them a blaspheming as they do in hell, than to excite them
to strive for salvation, and diligently to use the means
which God hath appointed. But God knoweth what re
velation of hell we can bear, and what hath the most ten
dency to do us good in this our infirm, dark, and sinful
state. — The declarations of one come from hell might more
tend to drive us from God than to bring us near to him. It
is best for us to be warned and instructed by God, who
knows best how to do it.
These are some of the reasons why the warnings of
God's word have more of a tendency to bring us to repent
ance, than the warning of one risen from the dead.

APPLICATION.
1. It is a natural inference from this doctrine, that if
these means which God hath appointed do not answer to
lead men to repentance and reformation, no others would.
— Although this be not an absolutely necessary conse
quence from the words of the doctrine ; yet it seems to be
Christ's aim to teach us, that if God's means will not
answer, none will. Our own means, those which we can
devise, however they may seem more likely at a distance
to be effectual, if brought to the trial, will not prove to be
better. The rich man thought that if his brethren were warn
ed by one rising from the dead, they would surely repent.
But Abraham tells him, he is mistaken.
If one rising from the dead would not answer the pur
pose, we may rationally conclude that no other kind of
means, different from those appointed by God, would. For
what can we think of, which seems to have more tendency
to awaken men, and lead to repentance, than one coming
from the dead to them ; except those means which we en
joy. — Indeed men can think of many means, which they
may imagine, if they enjoyed them, would make them be
lieve and repent : but they deceive themselves.
It may be they think, if they could see some prophet,
and see him work miracles, that this would awaken them.
But how was it then when there were prophets ? There
has rarely been a more degenerate time than that of Eli
jah and Elisha, who wrought so many miracles. The
people did not regard their prophecies nor their miracles ;
but walked in their own ways, and served their own gods,
so that Elijah thought there was none left of the true wor
shippers of God. And how did they treat the prophet
Jeremiah, solemnly warning them from God of their ap
proaching destruction ? And how often do the prophets

complain that all their prophecies and warnings were neg
lected and despised 1 _, _ i _
Would it be sufficient if you could hear God speak from
heaven » How was it in Moses's time, when they heard
God speak out of the midst of the fire, and heard the voice
of words exceeding loud and full of majesty, so that they
exceedingly trembled ; when they saw mount Sinai all
covered with smoke, and shaking exceedingly .' How did
they behave themselves? Did they all turn from their
sins, and after that walk in the ways of God ? It is true,
they were very much affected at first, while it was a new
and strange thing to them ; but how hard-hearted and re
bellious were they soon after ! They did not scruple to
rebel against this same great and glorious God. Yea, they
made a golden calf while Moses was in the mount con
versing with God, just after they had seen those dreadful
appearances of divine majesty.
Thus they rebelled against the Lord, although they had
seen so many miracles and wonders in Egypt at the Red
sea, and in the wilderness ; although they continually saw
the pillar of cloud and of fire going before them, were con
tinually fed in a miraculous manner with manna, and in
the same miraculous manner made to drink water out of
the rock. ,._,,.,
Men are apt to think, that if they had lived in Christ s
time, and had seen and heard him, and had seen his
miracles, that they would have effectually convinced and
turned them from sin. But how was it in fact? How
few were there brought to repentance by all his discourses
and miracles ! How hard-hearted were they ! Some
were very much affected for a little while ; but how few
constant steady followers had he ! He was, notwithstand
ing his miracles, rejected, despised, and even murdered by
the people among whom he dwelt. And they were men of
the same natures as sinners in these days.
The Scripture is full of instances, sufficient to convince
us, that if the word of God will not awaken and convert
sinners, nothing will. — And we see enough in these days
to convince us of it. Men sometimes meet with those
things by which we should not imagine, if we did not see
it, and were not used to it, but that they would be
thoroughly awakened and reformed — They sometimes hear
the warnings of dying men expecting to go to hell. One
would think this would be enough to awaken them ; and
it may be they are affected with it for the present : but it
only touches them ; it vanishes away, and is gone like a
puff of wind.
Sometimes sinners themselves are laid upon beds of
sickness, and their lives hang in doubt before them. They
are brought to the sides of the grave, and to the very mouth
of hell, and their hearts are full of terror and amazement.
Yet if they recover, they soon forget it, and return to the
ways of folly and wickedness. — Sometimes this is repeated;
they are taken sick again, are again in extreme peril of
death, their hearts are full of amazement, and they make
many promises and vows ; yet being recovered, they again
soon forget all, and return to sin and folly. Such things
are enough to convince us, that if the word of God be not
sufficient to convince men, and make them break off their
sins, no external means would be sufficient.
Perhaps some may yet be ready to think, that if sinners
should see hell, and here the cries of the damned, that
would be effectual, though nothing else would. But if we
duly consider the matter, we shall see reason to think, that
it would not have so great a tendency to turn men from
sin, as the word of God. Such a thing would doubtless
be effectual to terrify and affright men, and probably to
death. Such a mean is not at ail suitable to our nature and
state in the world. If it should not fright men to death,
it would not have so great a tendency to make them dili-.
gently use means for their salvation as the warnings of
Scripture. It would probably drive them to despair ; or
so take away their spirits that they would have no heart to
seek God. Instead of driving them to God, it would
probably make them hate him the more. It would make
them more like devils ; and set them a blaspheming as the
damned do. For while the hearts of men are filled with
natural darkness, they cannot see the glory of the divine
justice appearing in such extreme torments.
Therefore the means which God hath instituted for us,

Serm. VI.

SCRIPTURE WARNINGS BEST ADAPTED, &c.

71

are doubtless the best, and most conducive to lead men to
repentance and salvation. They are doubtless far better
than any other which we can devise.
2. Hence we learn the dreadful hardness of men's hearts,
since the word of God hath no more influence upon them,
and they are no more moved and wrought upon by those
means which infinite wisdom hath provided. The warn
ings of the word of God are, as you have heard, better and
more powerful means than if one should rise from the dead
to warn us, and tell us our danger, and the dreadfulness of
the wrath of God. You have also heard, that if these
means will not answer the end of awakening and leading
sinners to repentance, no other will ; neither the working
of miracles, nor the hearing of God speak with an audible
voice from heaven, nor any thing else. — Yet how few are
there who are effectually wrought upon by the word of
God ! They are very thinly sown ; there is but here and
there one.
When we read how the children of Israel conducted
themselves in the wilderness, how often they murmured
and offended ; we are ready to wonder at the hardness of
their hearts. And when we read the history of Christ, and
how the Jews hated and rejected him notwithstanding his
many miracles ; we are ready to wonder how they could
be so hard-hearted. But we have as much reason to
wonder at ourselves, for we have naturally the same sort of
hearts that they had ; and sinners in these days manifest a
hardness of heart as much to be wondered at, in that they
are not influenced by the word of God ; for they who will
not hear Moses and the prophets, Jesus Christ and his
apostles, neither would be persuaded, if one should rise
from the dead, or if an angel should come from heaven.
The best means of awakening and conversion are plenti
fully enjoyed by us, much more plentifully in several re
spects, than they were by those who had only Moses and
the prophets. In the first place, we have divine truth
more fully revealed in the Bible than they had then.
Light now shines abundantly clear. Gospel-truth is re
vealed, not in types and shadows, but plainly. Heaven
and hell are much more clearly and expressly made
known. We are told, that the glory of that revelation

was no glory in comparison with the revelation of the
gospel. Again, we have a greater plenty of Bibles than they had
under the dispensation of Moses and the prophets. Then
there was no such thing as printing, and Bibles were scarce
things. They seldom had any Bibles any where else but
in their synagogues. But now we have them in our
houses ; we can look into them when we please. Besides,
Christ hath appointed the gospel-ministry, by which we
have the word of God explained and enforced every week.
Yet how little influence hath the word of God to bring
men to repentance !
Let this strike conviction into those who never yet have
found any such effect by the word of God. Though you
are convinced of nothing else, yet you have abundant reason
to be convinced that your hearts are as hard as a stone,
and that you are exceedingly stupid and sottish.
3. Hence we may learn how justly and fairly God deals
with us. He gives us the best means of awakening and
reclaiming us from our sins ; better than if he had sent one
from the dead to warn us. He gives us those means
which are most suited to our nature and circumstances.
He gives sinners abundant warning before he punishes
them. What could he have donemore than he hath done ?
We can devise or imagine no sort of warning which would
have been better than what God hath given us. How
justly therefore are ungodly men punished ! how inexcus
able will they be !
4. Let all make use ofthe means which God hath insti
tuted. They are the best and only means by which we
may expect to obtain salvation. We shall be most inex
cusable therefore if we neglect them. Let us attend to the
word of God, read and hear it carefully, consider it tho
roughly and daily walk by it. Let us be diligent in this
work. The word of God is a great price put into our
hands to get wisdom and eternal salvation ; let us there
fore improve it while we have it, as we know not how soon
we may be deprived of it ; lest Christ say to us, as in
Luke xix. 42. " If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in
this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace ! But
now they are hid from thine eyes."

SERMON VII.*

HYPOCRITES DEFICIENT IN THE DUTY OF PRAYER.

Job xxvii. 10.
Will he always call upon God?
Concerning these words, 1 would observe,
1. Who U is that is here spoken of, viz. the hypocrite;
as you may see, if you take the two preceding verses with
the verse of the text. " For what is the hope of the hypo
crite, though he hath gained, when God taketh away his
soul ? Will God hear his cry when trouble cometh upon
him ? Will he delight himself in the Almighty ? Will he
always call upon God ?" Job's three friends, in their
speeches to him, insisted much upon it, that he was a
hypocrite. But Job, in this chapter, asserts his sincerity
and integrity, and shows how different his own behaviour
had been from that of hypocrites. Particularly he de
clares his stedfast and immovable resolution of persevering
and holding out in the ways of religion and righteousness
to the end ; as you may see in the six first verses. In the
text, he shows how contrary to this stedfastness and per
severance the character of the hypocrite is, who is not wont
thus to hold out in religion.
2. We may observe what duty of religion it is, with re
spect to which the hypocrite is deciphered in the text, and
that is the duty, oi prayer or calling upon God.
• Dated, June, 1740.

3. Here is something supposed of the hypocrite relating
to this duty, viz. That he may continue in it for a while;
he may call upon God for a season.
4. Something asserted, viz. That it is not the manner
of hypocrites to continue always in this duty. Will he
always call upon God? It is in the form of an interrogation ;
but the words have the force of a strong assertion, that
however the hypocrite may call upon God for a season,
yet he will not always continue in it.
DOCTRINE.
However hypocrites may continue for a season in' the
duty of prayer, yet it is their manner, after a while, in a
great measure to leave off.
In speaking upon this doctrine, I shall show,
I. How hypocrites often continue for a season to call
upon God.
II. How it is their manner, after a while, in a great mea
sure to leave off the practice of this duty.
III. Give some reasons why this is the manner of hy
pocrites. I. I would show how hypocrites often continue for a
season in the duty of prayer.

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

72- 1 They do so for a while after they have received com
mon illuminations and affections. While they are under
awakenings, they may through fear of hell call upon God,
and attend very constantly upon the duty of secret prayer.
And after they have had some melting affections, having
their hearts much moved with the goodness of God, or
with some affecting encouragements, and false joy and
comfort; while these impressions last they continue to
call upon God in the duty of secret prayer.
2. After they have obtained a hope, and have made pro
fession of their good estate, they often continue for a while
in the duty of secret prayer. For a while they are affected
with their hope : they think that God hath delivered them
out of a natural condition, and given them an interest in
Christ, thus introducing them into a state of safety from
that eternal misery which they lately feared. With this
supposed kindness of God to them, they are much affect
ed, and often find in themselves for a while a kind of love
to God, excited by his supposed love to them. Now,
while this affection towards God continues, the duties of
religion seem pleasant to them ; it is even with some
delight that they approach to God in their closets ; and
for the present it may be, they think of no other than con
tinuing to call upon God as long as they live.
Yea, they may continue in the duty of secret prayer for
a whiie after the liveliness of their affections is past, through
the influence of their former intentions. They intended to
continue seeking God always ; and now suddenly to leave
off would be too shocking to their own minds. And the
force of their own preconceived notions, viz. That godly
persons continue in religion, may have some effect. There
fore, though they have no love to the duty of prayer, and
begin to grow weary of it, yet as they love their own hope,
they are somewhat backward to take a course, which wili
prove it to be a false hope, and so deprive them of it.
If they should all at once bear the sign of a false hope,
thev would scare themselves. Their hope is dear to them,
and it would fright them to see any plain evidence that it
is not true. Hence, for a considerable time after the force
of their illuminations and affections is over, and after they
hate the duty of prayer — and would be glad to have done
with it, if they couid without showing themselves to be
hypocrites — they hold up a kind of attendance upon the
duty of secret prayer  This may keep up the outside of
religion in them for a good while, and occasion it to be
somewhat slowly that they are brought to neglect it. They
must not leave off suddenly, because that would be too
great a shock to their false peace. — But they must come
gradually to it, as they find their consciences can bear it,
and as they can find out devices and salvos to cover the
matter, and make their so doing consistent, in their own
opinion, with the truth of their hope. — But,
II. It is the manner of hypocrites, after a while, in a
great measure to leave off the practice of this duty. We
are often taught, that the seeming goodness and piety of
hypocrites is not of a lasting and persevering nature. It
is so with respect to their practice of the duty of prayer in
particular, and especially of secret prayer. They can omit
this duty, and their omission of it not be taken notice of
by others, who know what profession they have made. So
that a regard to their own reputation doth not oblige them
still to practise it. If others saw how they neglect it,
it would exceedingly shock thejr charity towards them.
But their neglect doth not fell under their observation ; at
least not under the observation of many. Therefore they
may omit this duty, and still have the credit of being con
verted persons.
Men of this character can come to a neglect of secret
prayer by degrees without shocking their peace. For
though indeed for a converted person to live in a great
measure without secret prayer, is very wide of the notion
they once had of a true convert ; yet they find means by
degrees to alter their notions, and to bring their principles
to suit with their inclinations ; and at length they come to
a notion, that a man may be a convert, and yet live very
much in neglect of this duty. In time, they can bring all
things to suit well together ; as a hope of heaven, an in
dulgence of sloth, gratifying camal appetites, and living in
a great measure a prayerless life. They cannot indeed
suddenly make these things agree ; it must be a work of

time; and length of time will effect it. By.degfees they
find out ways to guard and defend their consciences against
those powerful enemies ; so that those enemies, and a
quiet, secure conscience, can at length dwell together.
Whereas it is asserted in the doctrine, that it is the
manner of hvpocrites, after a while, in a great measure tq
leave off this" duty ; I would observe to you,
1. That it is not intended but that they may commonly
continue to the end of life in an external attendance on
prayer with others. They may commonly be present at
public prayers in the congregation, and also at family
prayer. This, in such places of light as this is, men com
monly do before they are so much as awakened. Many
vicious persons, who make no pretence to serious religion,
commonly attend public prayers in the congregation, and
also more private prayers in the families in which they live,
unless it be when carnal designs interfere, or when their
youthful pleasures and diversions, and their vain company;
call them ; and then they make no conscience of attending
family prayer. Otherwise they may continue to attend
upon prayer as long as they live, and yet may truly be said
not to call upon God. For such prayer, in ihe manner of
it, is not their own. They are present only for the sake of
their credit, or in compliance with others. They may be
present at these pravers, and yet have no proper prayer of
their own. Many of those concerning whom it may bo
said, as in Job xv. 4. that they cast off fear and restrain
prayer before God, are yet frequently present at family and
public pravers.
2. But they in a great measure leave off the practice of
secret prayer. They come to this pass by degrees. At
first they begin to be careless about it, under some particu
lar temptations. Because they have been out in young
company, or have been taken up very much with worldly
business, they omit it once : after that they more easily
omit it again." Thus it presently becomes a frequent thing
with them to omit it ; and after a while, it comes to that
pass, that they seldom attend it. Perhaps they attend it
on sabbath-days, and sometimes on other days. But they
have ceased to make it a constant practice daily to retire
to worship God alone, and to seek his face in secret places.
They sometimes do a little to quiet conscience, and just to
keep alive their old hope ; because it would be shocking
to them, even after all their subtile dealing with their con
sciences, to call themselves converts, and yet totally to live
without prayer. Yet the practice of secret prayer they
have in a great measure left off. — I come now,
III. To the reasons why this is the manner of hypo
crites. 1. Hypocrites never had the spirit of prayer. They may
have been stirred up to the external performance of this
duty, and that with a great deal of earnestness and affec
tion, and yet always have been destitute ofthe true spirit
of prayer. " The spirit of prayer is a holy spirit, a gracious
spirit. We read of the spirit of grace and supplication r
Zech. xii. 10. " I will pour out on the house of David
and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and
supplications." — Wherever there is a true spirit of suppli
cation, there is the spirit of grace. The true spirit of
prayer is no other than God's own spirit dwelling in the
hearts of the saints. And as this spirit comes from God,
so doth it naturally tend to God in holy breathings and
pantings. lt naturally leads to God to converse with him
by prayer. Therefore the Spirit is said to make interces
sion for the saints with groanings which cannot be uttered,
Rom. viii. 26.
The Spirit of God makes intercession for them, as it is
that Spirit which in some respect indites their prayers, and
leads them to pour out their souls before God. Therefore
the saints are said to worship God in the spirit ; Phil. iii.
3. " We are the circumcision, who worship God in the
Spirit ;" and John iv. 23. " The true worshippers worship
the Father in spirit and in truth." The truly godly have
the spirit of adoption, the spirit of a child, to which it is
natural to go to God and call u pon him, crying to him as
to a father.
But hypocrites have nothing of this spirit of adoption :
they have not the spirit of children ; for this is a gracious-
and holy spirit, given only in a real work of regeneration.
Therefore it is often mentioned as a part of the distinguish-

Serm. VII.

HYPOCRITES DEFICIENT IN PRAYER.

73

ing character of the godly, that they call upon God. Psalm
cxiv. 18, 1 9. " The Lord is nigh to them that call upon him,
to all that call upon him in truth. He will fulfil the desire
of them that fear him ; he will also hear their cry, and will
save them." Joel ii. 32. " It shall come to pass, that who
soever calleth on the name of the Lord shall be saved.
It is natural to one who is truly born from above to
pray to God, and to pour out his soul in holy supplications
before his heavenly Father. This is as natural to the new
nature and life as breathing is to the nature and life of the
body. But hypocrites have not this new nature. Those
illuminations and affections which they had, went away,
and left no change of nature. Therefore prayer naturally
dies away in them, having no foundation laid in the nature
of the soul. It is maintained awhile only by a certain
force put upon nature. But force is not constant ; and as
that declines, nature will take place again.
The spirit of a true convert is a spirit of true love to
God, and that naturally inclines the soul to those duties
wherein it is conversant with God, and makes it to delight
in approaching him. But a hypocrite hath no such spirit.
He is left under the reigning power of enmity against God,
which naturally inclines him to shun his presence.
The spirit of a true convert is a spirit of faith and re
liance on the power, wisdom, and mercy of God, and such
a spirit is naturally expressed in prayer. True prayer is
nothing else but faith expressed. Hence we read of the
prayer of faith ; James v. 15. True christian prayer is
the faith and reliance of the soul breathed forth in words.
But a hypocrite is without the spirit of faith. He hath
no true reliance or dependence on God, but is really self-
dependent. As to those common convictions and affections which the
hypocrite had, and which made him keep up the duty of
prayer for a while ; they not reaching the bottom of the
heart, nor being accompanied with any change of nature,
a little thing extinguishes them. The cares of the world
commonly choke and suffocate them, and often the plea
sures and vanities of youth totally put an end to them,
and with them ends their constant practice of the duty of
prayer. 2. When a hypocrite hath had his false conversion, his
wants are in his sense of things already supplied, his desires
are already answered ; and so he finds no further business
at the throne of grace. He never was sensible that he had
any other needs, but a need of being safe from hell. And
now that he is converted, as he thinks, that need is sup
plied. Why then should he still go on to resort to the
throne of grace with earnest requests ? He is out of danger ;
all that he was afraid of is removed : he hath got enough
to carry him to heaven, and what more should he desire ? — •
While under awakenings, he had this to stir him up to go
to God in prayer, that he was in continual fear of hell.
This put him upon crying to God for mercy. But since
in his own opinion he is converted, he hath no further
business about wbich to go to God. And although he
may keep up the duty of prayer in the outward form a
little while, for fear of spoiling his hope, yet he will find
it a dull business to coutinue it without necessity, and so
by degrees he will let drop the practice. The work of the
hypocrite is done when he is converted, and therefore he
Standeth in no further need of help.
But it is far otherwise with the true convert. His work
is not done ; but he finds still a great work to do, and
great wants to be supplied. He sees himself still to be a
poor, empty, helpless creature, and that he still stands in
greatand continual need of God's help. He is sensible that
without God he can do nothing. A false conversion makes
a man in his own eyes self-sufficient. ¦ He saith he is rich,
and increased with goods, and hath need of nothing ; and
knoweth not that he is wretched, and miserable, and poor,
and blind, and naked. But after a true conversion, the
soul remains sensible of its own impotence and empti
ness, as it is in itself, and its sense of it is rather in
creased than diminished . It is still sensible of its universal
dependence on God for every thing. A true convert is
sensible that his grace is very imperfect ; and he is very far
from having all that he desires. Instead of that, by con
version are begotten in him new desires which he never had
before. He now finds in him holy appetites, a hunger

ing and thirsting after righteousness, a longing after more
acquaintance and communion with God. So that he hath
business enough still at the throne of grace ; yea, his
business there, instead of being diminished, is rather in
creased. 3. The hope which the hypocrite hath of his good estate
takes off the force that the command of God before had
upon his conscience ; so that now he dares neglect so plain
a duty. The command which requires the practice of the
duty of prayer is exceeding plain : Matt. xxvi. 41." Watch
and pray, that ye enter not into temptation." Eph. vi.
18. " Praying always with all prayer and supplication in
the spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance, and
supplication for all saints." Matt. vi. 6. " When thou
prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy
door, pray to thy Father which is in secret." As long as
the hypocrite was in his own apprehension in continual
danger of hell, he durst not disobey these commands.
But since he is, as he thinks, safe from hell, he is grown
bold, he dares to live in the neglect of the plainest com
mand in the Bible.
4. It is the manner of hypocrites, after a while, to return
to sinful practices, which will tend to keep them from
praying. While they were under convictions, they reform
ed their lives, and walked very exactly. This reformation
continues, after their supposed conversion, while they are
much affected with hope and false comfort. But as these
things die away, their old lusts revive, and by degrees they
return like the dog to his vomit, and the sow that was
washed to her wallowing in the mire. They return to their
sensual, worldly, proud, and contentious practices, as before.
And no wonder this makes them forsake their closets.
Sinning and praying agree not well together. If a man
be constant in the duty of secret prayer, it will tend to
restrain him from wilful sinning. So, on the other hand,
if he allow himself in sinful practices, it will restrain him
from praying. It will give quite another turn to his mind,
so that he will have no disposition to the practice of such
a duty : it will be contrary to him. A man who knows
that he lives in sin against God, will not be inclined to
come daily into the presence of God ; but will rather be
inclined to fly from his presence, as Adam, when he had
eaten of the forbidden fruit, ran away from God, and hid
himself among the trees of the garden.
To keep up the duty of prayer after he hath given loose
to his lusts, would tend very much to disquiet a man's
conscience. It would give advantage to his conscience to
testify aloud against him. If he should come from his
wickedness into the presence of God, immediately to speak
to him, his conscience would, as it were, fly in his face.
Therefore hypocrites, as they by degrees admit their wicked
practices, exclude prayer.
5. Hypocrites never counted the cost of perseverance in
seeking God, and of following him to the end of life. To
continue instant in prayer with all perseverance to the end
of life, requires much care, watchfulness, and labour. For
much opposition is made to it by the flesh, the world, and
the devil ; and Christians meet with many temptations to
forsake this practice. He that would persevere in this duty
must be laborious in religion in general. But hypocrites
never count the cost of such labour ; i. e. they never were
prepared in the disposition of their minds to give their lives
to the service of God, and to the duties of religion. It is
therefore no great wonder they are weary, and give up,
after they have continued for a while, as their affections are
gone, and they find that prayer to them grows irksome and
tedious. 6. Hypocrites have no interest in those gracious promises
which God hath made to his people, of those spiritual sup
plies which are needful in order to uphold them in the way
of their duty to the end. God hath promised to true saints
that they shall not forsake him ; Jer. xxxii. 40. " I will
put my fear into their hearts, that they shall not depart
from me." He hath promised that he will keep them in
the way of their duty ; 1 Thess. v. 23, 24. " And the God
of peace sanctify you wholly. And I pray God your spirit,
soul, and body, be preserved blameless unto the coming of
our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful is he that calleth you,
who also will do it." — But hypocrites have no interest in
these and such like promises ; and therefore are liable to

74

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

fall away. If God do not uphold men, there is no de
pendence on their stedfestness. If the Spirit of God de
part from them, they will soon become careless and pro
fane, and there will be an end to their seeming devotion
and piety.
The application may be in a use of exhortation, in two
branches. I. I would exhort those who have entertained a hope
of their being true converts — and who since their sup
posed conversion have left off the duty of secret prayer,
and ordinarily allow themselves in the omission of it — to
tlirow away their hope. If you have left off calling upon
God, it is time for you to leave off hoping and flattering
yourselves with an imagination that you are the children
of God. Probably it will be a very difficult thing for you
to do this. It is hard for a man to let go a hope of heaven,
on which he hath once allowed himself to lay hold, and
which he hath retained for a considerable time. True
conversion is a rare thing ; but that men should be brought
off from a false hope of conversion — after they are once
settled and established in it, and have continued in it for
some time — is much more rare.
Those things in men which, if known, would be suf
ficient to convince others that they are hypocrites, will not
convince themselves ; and those things which would be
sufficient to convince them concerning others, will not be
sufficient to convince them concerning themselves. They
can make larger allowances for themselves than they can
for others. They can find out ways to solve objections
against their own hope, when they can find none in the
like case for their neighbour.
But if your case be such as is spoken of in the doctrine,
it is surely time for you to seek a better hope, and another
work of God's Spirit, than ever you have yet experienced ;
something more thorough and effectual. When you find by
experience, that the seed which was sown in your hearts,
though at first it sprang up and seemed flourishing, is
withering away, as by the heat of the sun, or is choked,
as with thorns ; this shows in what sort of ground the seed
was sown, that it is either stony or thorny ground ; and
that therefore it is necessary you should pass through
another change, whereby your heart may become good
ground, which shall bring forth fruit with patience.
Insist not on that as a reason why you should not throw
away your hope, that you had the judgment of others, that
the change of which you were the subject was right. It is
a small matter to be judged of man's judgment, whether

you be approved or condemned, and whether it be by
minister or people, wise or unwise. 1 Cor. iv. 3. " It is a
very small thing that I should be judged of you or of
man's judgment." If your goodness have proved to be
as the morning cloud and early dew ; if you be one of
those who have forsaken God, and left off calling upon his
name, you have the judgment and sentence of God in the
Scriptures against you, which is a thousand times more
than to have the judgment of all the wise and godly men
and ministers in the world in your favour.
Others, from your account of things, may have been
obliged to have charity for you, and to think that — pro
vided you were not mistaken, and in your account did not
misrepresent things, or express them by wrong terms — you
were really converted. But what a miserable foundation is
this, upon which to build a hope as to your eternal state !
Here I request your attention to a few things in particu
lar, which I have to say to you concerning your hope.
1. Why will you retain that hope which by evident
experience you find poisons you ? Is it reasonable to
think, that a holy hope, a hope that is from heaven, would
have such an influence ? No, surely ; nothing of such a
malignant influence comes from that world of purity and
glory. No poison groweth in the paradise of God. The
same hope which leads men to sin in this world, will lead
to hell hereafter. Why therefore will you retain such a
hope, of which your own experience shows you the ill
tendency, in that it encourages you to lead a wicked life ?
For certainly that life is a wicked life wherein you live in
the neglect of so well-known a duty, as that of secret
prayer, and in the disobedience of so plain a command of
God, as that by which the duty is enjoined. And is not a
way of disobedience to God a way to hell ?
If your own experience of the nature and tendency of
your hope will not convince you of the falseness of it,
what will ? Are you resolved to retain your hope, let it
prove ever so unsound and hurtful ? Will you hold it fast
till you go to hell with it? Many men cling to a false
hope, and embrace it so closely, that they never let it go
till the flames of hell cause their arms to unclench and let
go their hold. — Consider how you will answer it at the
day of judgment, when God shall call you to an account
for your folly in resting in such a hope. Will it be a suf
ficient answer for you to say, that you had the charity of
others, and that they thought your conversion was right ? .
Certainly it is foolish for men to imagine, that God had
no more wisdom, or could contrive no other way of be
stowing comfort and hope of eternal life, than one which
should encourage men to forsake him.

SERMON VIII.

HYPOCRITES DEFICIENT IN THE DUTY OF PRAYER.

Joe xxvii. 10.
Will he always call upon God?
From these words, our doctrine was, That however
hypocrites may continue for a season in the duty of prayer,
yet it is their manner, after a while, in a great measure to
leave it off. This was our subject in the preceding dis
course, in which, after having shown — how hypocrites
often continue for a season to call upon God — how it is
their manner, after a while, in a great measure to leave it
off— and having given the reasons why this is their man
ner, I came at length to make application, which I proposed
to do in a use of exhortation, in two branches ; and first
to exhort those who entertain a hope of their good estate;
and yet live in the neglect of secret prayer, to reject their
hope. One particular consideration I have already laid
before men of this character, to the end just mentioned ;
and I now proceed to say to them,

2. How is your conduct consistent with loving God
above all. If you have not a spirit to love God above
your dearest earthly friends, and your most pleasant
earthly enjoyments; the Scriptures are very plain and
full in it, that you are not true Christians. But if you had
indeed such a spirit, would you thus grow weary of the
practice of drawing near to 'him, and become habitually
so averse to it, as in a great measure to cast off so plain a
duty, which is so much the life of a child of God ? It is
the nature of love to be averse to absence, and to love a
near access to those whom we love. We love to be with
them; we delight to come often to them, and to have
much conversation with them. But when a person who
hath heretofore been wont to converse freely with another,
by degrees forsakes him, grows strange, and converses
with him but little, and that although the other be im
portunate with him for the continuance of their former
intimacy ; this plainly shows the coldness of his heart
towards him.

Serm. VIII.

HYPOCRITES DEFICIENT IN PRAYER..

75

The neglect of the duty of prayer seems to be incon
sistent with supreme love to God also upon another ac
count, and that is, that it is against the will of God so
plainly revealed. — True love to God seeks to please him
m every thing, and universally to conform to his will.
3. Your thus restraining prayer before. God is not only
inconsistent with the love, but also with the fear, of God.
It is an argument that you cast off fear, as is manifest by
that text, job xv. 4. " Yea, thou castest off fear, and re-
strainest prayer before God." While you thus live in the
transgression of so plain a command of God, you evidently
show, that there is no fear of God before your eyes. Psai.
xxxvi. 1 . " The transgression of the wicked saith within
my heart, that there is no fear of God before his eyes."
4. Consider how living in such a neglect is consistent
with leading a holy life. We are abundantly instructed
in Scripture, that true Christians do lead a hoiy life ; that
without holiness no man shall see the Lord, Heb. xii. 14.
and that every one that hath this hope in him, purifieth
liimself, even' as Christ is pure, 1 John iii. 3. In Prov.
xvi. 17. it is said, The highway of the upright is to depart
from evil, i. e. the common beaten road in which all the
godly travel. To the like purpose is Isa. xxxv. 8. "A
highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called
the way of holiness ; the unclean shall not pass over it,
but it shall be for those:" i. c. those redeemed persons
spoken of in the foregoing verses. It is spoken of in
Rom. viii. 1. as the character of all believers, that they
walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit.
But how is a life, in a great measure prayerless, consis
tent with a holy life ? To lead a holy life is to lead a life
devoted to God ; a life of worshipping and serving God ;
a life consecrated to the service of God. But how doth
he lead such a life who doth not so much as maintain the
duty of prayer ? How can such a man be said to walk by
the Spirit, and to be a servant of the most high God? A
holy life is a life of faith. The life that true Christians
live in the world, they live by the faith of the Son of God.
But who can believe that the man lives by faith who lives
without prayer, which is the natural expression of faith ?
Prayer is as natural an expression of faith, as breathing is
of life ; and to say a man lives a life of faith, and yet lives
a prayerless life, is every whit as inconsistent and in
credible, as to say, that a man lives without breathing. A
prayerless life is so far from being holy, that it is a profane
iife : he that lives so, lives like a heathen, who calleth not
on God's name ; he that lives a prayerless life, lives with
out God in the world.
5. If you live in the neglect of secret prayer, you show
your good-will to neglect all the worship of God. He
that prays only when he prays with others, would not pray
at all, were it not that the eyes of others are upon him.
He that will not pray where none but God seeth him,
manifestly doth not pray at all out of respect to God, or
regard to his all-seeing eye, and therefore doth in effect
cast off all prayer. And he that casts off prayer, in effect
casts off all the worship of God, of which prayer is the
principal duty. Now, what a miserable saint is he who
is no worshipper of God ! He that casts off the worship
of God, in effect casts off God himself: he refuses to own
him, or to be conversant with him as his God. For the
way in which men own God, and are conversant with him
as their God, is by worshipping him.
6. How can you expect to dwell with God for ever, if
you so neglect and forsake him here ? This your practice
shows, that you place not your happiness in God, in near
ness to him, and communion with him. He who refuses
to visit and converse with a friend, and who in a great
measure forsakes him, when he is abundantly invited and
importuned to come ; plainly shows that he places not his
happiness in the company and conversation of that friend.
Now, if this be the case with you respecting God, then
how can you expect to have it for your happiness to all
eternity, to be with God, and to enjoy holy communion
with him ?
Let those persons who hope they are converted, and
yet have in a great measure left off the duty of secret
prayer, and whose manner it is ordinarily to neglect it, for
their own sake seriously consider these things. For what
will it profit them to please themselves with that, while

they live, which will fail them at last, and leave them in
fearful and amazing disappointment ?
It is probable, that some of you who have entertained
a good opinion of your state, and have looked upon your
selves as converts— but have of late in a great measure
left off the duty— will this evening attend secret prayer,
and so may continue to do for a little while after your
hearing this sermon, to. the end that you may solve the
objection which is made against the truth of your hope.
But this will not hold. As it hath been in "former in-'
stances of the like nature, so what you now hear will
have such effect upon you but a Utile while.— When the
business and cares of the world shall again begin to crowd
a little upon you, or the next time you shall go out into
young company, it is probable you will again neglect this
duty. After the next frolic to which you go, it is highly
probable you will neglect not only secret, but also family
prayer. Or at least, after a while, you will come to the
same pass as before, in casting off fear, and restraining
prayer before God.
It is not very likely that you will ever be constant and
persevering in' this duty, until you shall have obtained a
better principle in your hearts. The streams which have
no springs to feed them will dry up. The drought and
heat consume the snow-waters. "Although they run plen
tifully in the spring, yet when the sun ascends higher with
a burning heat, they" are gone. The seed that is sown in
stony places, though it seem to flourish at present, yet as
the sun shall rise with a burning heat, will wither away.
None will bring forth fruit with patience, but those whose
hearts are become good ground.
Without any heavenly seed remaining in them, men
may, whenever they fall'in among the godly, continue all
their lives to talk like saints. They may, for their credit
sake, tell of what they have experienced : but their deeds
will not hold.— They may continue to tell of their inward
experiences, and yet live in the neglect of secret prayer,
and of other duties.
II. I would take occasion from this doctrine to exhort
all to persevere in the duty of prayer. This exhortation is
much insisted on in the word of God. It is insisted on
in the Old Testament ; 1 Chron. xvi. 11. " Seek the Lord
and his strength, seek his face continually." Isa. lxii. 7.
" Ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence ;"
i. c. be not silent as to the voice of prayer, as is manifest
by the following words, " and give him no rest till he esta
blish, and till he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth."
Israel of old is reproved for growing weary of the duty
of prayer. Isa. xliii. 22. "But thou hast not called upon
me, O Jacob, thou hast been weary of me, O Israel."
Perseverance in the duty of prayer is very much insisted
on in the New Testament ;' as Luke xviii. at the beginning,
"A man ought always to pray and not to faint;" i. e. not
to be discouraged or weary of the duty ; but should al
ways continue in it. Again, Luke xxi. 36. "Watch ye
therefore, and pray always." We have the example of Anna
the prophetess set before us, Luke i. 35, &c. who, though
she had lived to be more than a hundred years old, yet
was not weary of this duty. It is said, " She departed
not from the temple, but served God with fastings and
prayers night and day." Cornelius also is commended for
his constancy in this duty. It is said, that he prayed to
God always ; Acts x. 2. The apostle Paul in his epistles,
insists very much on constancy in this duty ; Rom. xii. 1 2 .
"Continuing instant in prayer." Eph. vi. 18, 19. "Pray
ing always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit,
and watching thereunto with all perseverance." Col. iv. 2.
"Continue in prayer, and watch in the same." 1 Thess.
v. 17. "Pray without ceasing." To the same effect the
apostle Peter, 1 Pet. iv. 7. " Watch unto prayer." — Thus
abundantly the Scriptures insist upon it, that we should
persevere in the duty of prayer ; which shows that it is
of very great importance that we should persevere. If
the contrary be the manner of hypocrites, as hath been
shown in the doctrine, then surely we ought to beware of
this leaven.
But here let the following things be particularly con
sidered as motives to perseverance in this duty.
. 1 . That perseverance in the way of duty is necessary to
salvation, and is abundantly declared to be so in the Holy

76 Scriptures; as Isa. lxiv. 5. "Thou meetest him that re
joiceth and worketh righteousness, those that remember
thee in thy ways : behold, thou art wroth, for we have
sinned : in those is continuance, and we shall be saved."
Heb. x. 38, and 39. " Now the just shall live by faith :
but if any man draw back, my soul hath no pleasure in
him. But we are not of them who draw back unto per
dition ; but of them that believe to the saving of the soul."
Rom. xi. 22. "Behold therefore the goodness and severity
of God : on them which fell, severity ; but towards thee,
goodness, if thou continue in his goodness ; otherwise thou
also shalt be cut off." — So in many other places.
Many, when they think they are converted, seem to
imagine that their work is done, and that there is nothing
else needful in order to their going to heaven. Indeed
perseverance in holiness of life is not necessary to salvation
in the same way as the righteousness by which a right to
salvation is obtained. Nor is actual perseverance necessary
in order to our becoming interested in that righteousness
by which we are justified. For as soon as ever a soul hath
believed in Christ, or hath put forth one act of faith in
him, it becomes interested in his righteousness, and in all
the promises purchased by it.
But persevering in the way of duty is necessary to sal
vation, as a concomitant and evidence of a title to salva
tion. There is never a title to salvation without it, though
it be not the righteousness by which a title to salvation is
obtained. It is necessary to salvation, as it is the neces
sary consequence of true faith. It is an evidence which
universally attends uprightness, and the defect of it is an
infallible evidence of the want of uprightness. Psalm
cxxv. 4, 5. There such as are good and upright in heart,
are distinguished from such as fell away or turn aside :
" Do gootj, O Lord, to those that are good, and to them
that are upright in their hearts. As for such as turn aside
to their crooked ways, the Lord shall lead them forth with
the workers of iniquity. But peace shall be upon Israel."
— It is mentioned as an evidence that the hearts of the
children of Israel were not right with God, that they did
not persevere in the ways of holiness. Psalm lxxviii. 8.
" A generation that set not their hearts aright, and whose
spirit was not stedfast with God."
Christ gives this as a distinguishing character of those
that are his disciples indeed, and of a true and saving
faith, that it is accompanied with perseverance in obe
dience to Christ's word. John viii. 31. "Then said Jesus
to those Jews which believed on him, if ye continue in
my word, then are ye my disciples indeed." This is men
tioned as a necessary evidence of an interest in Christ,
Heb. iii. 14. " We are made partakers of Christ, if we
hold the beginning of our confidence stedfast to the end."
Perseverance is not only a necessary concomitant and
evidence of a title to salvation ; but also a necessary pre
requisite to the actual possession of eternal life. It is the
only way to heaven, the narrow way that leadeth to life.
Hence Christ exhorts the church of Philadelphia to per
severe in holiness from this consideration, that it was ne
cessary in order to her obtaining the crown. Rev. iii. 11.
" Hold fast that which thou hast, that no man take thy
crown." It is necessary not only that persons should
once have been walking in the way of duty, but that they
should be found so doing when Christ cometh. Luke xii.
43. " Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when he
cometh, shall find so doing." — Holding out to the end is
often made the condition of actual salvation. Matt. x. 22.
" He that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved :"
and Rev. ii. 10. " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will
give thee a crown of life."
2. In order to your own perseverance in the way of
duty, your own care and watchfulness is necessary. For
though it be promised that true saints shall persevere, yet
that is no argument that their care and watchfulness is not
necessary in order to it ; because their care to keep the
commands of God is the thing promised. If the saints
should fail of care, watchfulness, and diligence to perse
vere in holiness, that failure of their care and diligence
would itself be a failure of holiness. They who persevere
not in watchfulness and diligence, persevere not in holi
ness of life, for holiness of life very much consists in
watchfulness and diligence to keep the commands of God.

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

It is one promise of the covenant of grace, that the sanits
shall keep God's commandments. Ezek. xi. 19, 20— Yet
that is no argument lhat they have no need to take care to
keep these commandments, or to do their duty. So the
promise of God, that the saints shall persevere in holiness,
is no argument that it is not necessary that they should
take heed lest they fell away.
Therefore the Scriptures abundantly warn men to watch
over themselves diligently, and to give earnest heed lest
they fall away. 1 Cor. xvi. 13. " Watch ye, stand fast in
the faith, quit you like men, be strong.' 1 Cor. x. 12.
" Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he
fell." Heb. iii. 12—14. " Take heed, brethren, lest there
be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief in departing
from the living God ; but exhort one another daily, while
it is called to-day, lest any of you be hardened through
the deceitfulness of sin. For we are made partakers of
Christ, if we hold the beginning of our confidence stedfast
unto the end." Heb. iv. 1. " Let us therefore fear, lest a
promise being left us of entering into his rest, any of you
should seem to come short of it." 2 Pet. iii. 17. "Ye
therefore, beloved, seeing ye know these things before, be
ware lest ye also being led away with the error of the
wicked, fell from your own stedfestness." 2 John 8.
" Look to yourselves, that we lose not those things which
we have wrought, but that we receive a full reward." —
Thus you see how earnestly the Scriptures press on Chris
tians exhortations to take diligent heed to themselves that
they fall not away. And certainly these cautions are not
without reason.
The Scriptures particularly insist upon watchfulness in
order to perseverance in the duty of prayer. Watch and
pray, saith Christ ; which implies, that we should watch
unto prayer, as the apostle Peter says, 1 Pet. iv. 7. It
implies, that we should watch against a neglect of prayer,
as well as against other sins. The apostle, in places which
have been already mentioned, directs us to pray with all
prayer, watching thereunto with all perseverance, and to
continue in prayer, and watch in the same — Nor is it any
wonder that the apostles so much insisted on watching in
order to a continuance in prayer with all perseverance ;
for there are many temptations'to neglect this duty ; first
to be inconstant in it, and from time to time to omit it ;
then in a great measure to neglect it. The devil watches
by temptation to draw us away from God, and to hinder
us from going to him in prayer. We are surrounded with
one and another tempting object, business, and diversion :
particularly we meet with many things which are great
temptations to a neglect of this duty.
3. To move you to persevere in the duty of prayer, con
sider how much you always stand in need of the help of
God. If persons who have formerly attended this duty,
leave it off, the language of it is, that now they stand in
no further need of God's help, that they have no further
occasion to go to God with requests and supplications :
when indeed it is in God we live, and move, and have our
being. We cannot draw a breath without his help. You
need his help every day for the supply of your outward
wants ; and especially you stand in continual need of him
to help your souls. Without his protection they would
immediately fall into the hands of the devil, who always
stands as a roaring lion, ready, whenever he is permitted,
to fall upon the souls of men and devour them. — If God
should indeed preserve your lives, but should otherwise
forsake and leave you to yourselves, you would be most
miserable : your lives would be a curse to you.
Those that are converted, if God should forsake them,
would soon fell away totally from a state of grace into a
state fer more miserable than ever they were in before
their conversion. They have no strength of their own to
resist those powerful enemies who surround them. Sin
and Satan would immediately carry them away, as a
mighty flood, if God should forsake them. — You stand in
need of daily supplies from God. Without God yo« can
receive no spiritual light nor comfort, can exercise no
grace, can bring forth no fruit. Without God your souls
will wither and pine away, and sink into a most wretched
state. You continually need the instructions and direc
tions of God. What can a little child do in a vast howl-
I ing wilderness, without some one to guide it, and to iead

Serm. VIII.

HYPOCRITES DEFICIENT IN PRAYER.

77

it in the right way? Without God you will soon fall
into snares, and pits, and many fatal calamities.
Seeing therefore you stand in such continual need of the
help of God, how reasonable is it that you should con
tinually seek it of him, and perseveringly acknowledge
your dependence upon him, by resorting to him, to spread
your needs before him, and to offer up your requests to
him in prayer. — Let us consider how miserable we should
be, if we should leave off prayer, and God at the same
time should leave off to take care of us, or to afford us any
more supplies of his grace. By our constancy in prayer,
we cannot be profitable to God ; and if we leave it off,
God will sustain no damage : he doth not need our
prayers ; Job xxxv. 6, 7. — But if God cease to care for
as and to help us, we immediately sink : we can do no
thing : we can receive nothing without him.
4. Consider the great benefit of a constant, diligent, and
persevering attendance on this duty. It is one of the
greatest and most excellent means of nourishing the new
nature, and of causing the soul to flourish and prosper. It
is an excellent mean of keeping up an acquaintance with,
and of growing in the knowledge of, God. It is the way
to a life of communion with God. It is an excellent
mean of taking off the heart from the vanities of the
world, and of causing the mind to be conversant in
heaven. It is an excellent preservative from sin and the
wiles of the devil, and a powerful antidote against the
poison of the old serpent. It is a duty whereby strength
is derived from God against the lusts and corruptions of
the heart, and the snares of the world.
It hath a great tendency to keep the soul in a wakeful
frame, and to lead us to a strict walk with God, and to a
life that shall be fruitful in such good works, as tend to
adorn the doctrine of Christ, and to cause our light so to
shine before others, that they seeing our good works shall
glorify our Father who is in heaven. And if the duty be
constantly and diligently attended, it will be a very plea
sant duty. Slack and slothful attendance upon it, and
unsteadiness in it, are the causes which make it so great
a burden as it is to some persons. Their slothfulness in it
hath naturally the effect to beget a dislike of the duty,
and a great indisposition to it. But if it be constantly
and diligently attended, it is one of the best means of
leading not only a christian and amiable, but also a plea
sant life ; a life of much sweet fellowship with Christ, and
of the abundant enjoyment of the light of his countenance.
Besides, the great power which prayer, when duly at
tended, hath with God, is worthy of your notice. By it
men become like Jacob, who as a prince had power with
God, and prevailed, when he wrestled for the blessing.
See the power of prayer represented in James v. 16 — 18.
By these things you may be sensible how much you will
lose, if you shall be negligent in this great duty of calling
upon God ; and how ill you will consult your own interest
by such a neglect.
I conclude my discourse with two directions in order to
constancy and perseverance in this duty.
1 . Watch against the beginnings of a neglect of this
duty. Persons who have for a time practised, and after
wards neglect it, commonly leave it off by degrees. While
their convictions and religious affections last, they are very
constant in their closets, and no worldly business, or com
pany, or diversion hinders them. But as their convictions

and affections begin to die away, they begin to find ex
cuses to neglect it sometimes. They are now so hurried ;
they have now such and such things to attend to ; or there
are now such inconveniences in the way, that they persuade
themselves they may very excusably omit it for this time.
Afterwards it pretty frequently so happens, that they have
something to hinder, something which they call a just
excuse. After a while, a less thing becomes a sufficient
excuse than was allowed to be such at first. Thus the
person by degrees contracts more and more a habit of neg
lecting prayer, and becomes more and more indisposed to
it. And even when he doth perform it, it is in such a poor,
dull, heartless, miserable manner, that he says to himself,
he might as well not do it at all, as do it thus. Thus he
makes his own dulness and indisposition an excuse for
wholly neglecting it, or at least for living in a great mea
sure in its neglect. — After this manner do Satan and men's
own corruptions inveigle them to their ruin.
Therefore beware of the first beginnings of a neglect :
watch against temptations to it : take heed how you begin
to allow excuses. Be watchful to keep up the duty in the
height of it ; let it not so much as begin to sink. For
when you give way, though it be but little, it is like giving
way to an enemy in the field of battle : the first beginning
of a retreat greatly encourages the enemy, and Weakens
the retreating soldiers.
2. Let me direct you to forsake all such practices as you
find by experience do indispose you to the duty of secret
prayer. Examine the things in which you have allowed
yourselves, and inquire whether they have had this effect.
You are able to look over your past behaviour, and may
doubtless, on an impartial consideration, make a judgment
of the practices and courses in which you have allowed
yourselves. Particularly let young people examine their manner of
company keeping, and the round of diversions in which
with their companions they have allowed themselves. I
only desire that you would ask at the mouth of your own
consciences what has been the effect of these things with
respect to your attendance on the duty of secret prayer.
Have you not found that such practices have tended to the
neglect of this duty ? Have you not found that after them
you have been more indisposed to it, and less conscientious
and careful to attend it ? Yea, have they not, from time to
time, actually been the means of your neglecting it ?
If you cannot deny that this is really the case, then, if
you seek the good of your souls, forsake these practices.
Whatever you may plead for them, as that there is no harm
in them, or that there is a time for all things, and the like ;
yet if you find this harm in the consequence, it is time
for you to forsake them. And if you value heaven more
than a little worldly diversion ; if you set a higher price
on eternal glory, than on a dance or a song, you will for
sake them.
If these things be lawful in themselves, yet if your ex
perience show, that they are attended with such a conse
quence as I have now mentioned, that is enough. It is
lawful in itself for you to enjoy your right hand and your
right eye : but if by experience you find they cause you
to offend, it is time for you to cut off the one, and pluck
out the other, as you would rather go to heaven without
them than go to hell with them, into that place of torment
where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

SERMON IX *
THE FUTURE PUNISHMENT OF THE WICKED UNAVOIDABLE AND INTOLERABLE.

Ezek. xxii. 14.
Can thine heart endure, or can thine hands be strong, in the
days that I shall deal with thee ? I tlie Lord have spoken
it, and will do it.
In the former part of this chapter, we have a dreadful
catalogue of the sins of Jerusalem ; as you may see from
the first to the thirteenth verse. In the thirteenth, which
is the verse preceding the text, God manifests his great
displeasure and fearful wrath against them for their
iniquities. " Behoid, I have smitten mine hand at thy
dishonest gain which thou hast made, and at thy blood
which hath been in the midst of thee." The expression of
God's smiting his hand, signifies the greatness of his
anger, and his preparing himself, as it were, to execute
wrath answerable to their heinous crimes. It is an allusion
to what we sometimes see in men when they are surprised,
by seeing or hearing of some horrid offence, or most in
tolerable injury, which very much stirs their spirits, and
animates them with high resentment ; on such an occasion
they will rise up in wrath and smite their hands together,
as an expression of the heat of their indignation, and fuli
resolution to be avenged on those who have committed the
injury ; as in chap. xxi. 17. " I will also smite mine hands
together, and I will cause my fury to rest : I the Lord
have said it." Then, in the text, the punishment of that
people is represented.
1 . The nature of their punishment is more generally re
presented in that, God will undertake to deal with them. —
The prophets could do nothing with them. God had sent
them one after another ; but those sinners were too strong
for them, and beat one, and killed another. Therefore
now God himself undertakes to deal with them.
2. Their punishment is more particularly represented
in three things, viz. The intolerableness, the remediless-
ness, and the unavoidableness of it. — The intolerableness
of it : can thine heart endure ? — Its remedilessness, or the
impossibility of their doing any thing for their own relief :
can thine hands be strong ? — Its unavoidableness : I the
Lord have spoken it, and will do it.

DOCTRINE.
Since God hath undertaken to deal with impenitent sin
ners, they shall neither shun the threatened misery, nor
deliver themselves out of it, nor can they bear it.
In handling this doctrine I shall, 1. Show what is im
plied in God s undertaking to deal with impenitent sin
ners. 2. That therefore they cannot avoid punishment.
3. That they cannot in any measure deliver themselves
from it, or do any thing for their own relief under it. 4.
That they cannot bear it. 5.1 shall answer an inquiry ;
and then proceed to the use.
I. I shall show what is implied in God's undertaking
to deal with impenitent sinners. Others are not able to
deal with them. They baffle all the means used with
them by those that are appointed to teach and to rule
over them. — They will not yield to parents, or to the coun
sels, warnings, or reproofs of ministers : they prove obsti
nate and stiff-hearted. Therefore God undertakes to deal
with them. This implies the following things :
1 . That God will reckon with them, and take of them
satisfaction to his justice. In this world God puts forth
his authority to command them, and to require their sub
jection to him. In his commands he is very positive,
* Dated, April, 1741

strictly requiring of them the performance of duties, and
as positively forbidding things contrary to their duty. But
they have no regard to these commands. God continues
commanding, and they continue rebelling. They make
nothing of God's authority  God threatens but they de
spise his threatenings. — They make nothing of dishonour
ing God ; they care not how much their behaviour is to
his dishonour. He offers them mercy, if they will repent
and return ; but they despise his mercy as well as his
wrath. God calleth, but they refuse. Thus they are con
tinually plunging themselves deeper and deeper in debt,
and at the same time imagine they shall escape the pay
ment of the debt, and design entirely to rob God of his
due. But God hath undertaken to right himself. He will
reckon with them ; he hath undertaken to see that the
debts due to him are paid. All their sins are written in
his book ; not one of them is forgotten, and every one
must be paid. If God be wise enough, and strong enough,
he will have full satisfaction : he will exact the very utter
most farthing. He undertakes it as his part, as what be
longs to him, to see himself righted, wherein he hath been
wronged. Deut. xxxii. 35. "To me belongeth vengeance."
Ibid. vii. 10. " He will not be slack to him that hateth
him ; he will repay him to his face.
2. He hath undertaken to vindicate the honour of his
majesty. His majesty they despise. They hear that he
is a great God ; but they despise his greatness ; they look
upon him as worthy of contempt, and treat him accordingly.
They hear of him by the name of a great King ; but his
authority they regard not, and sometimes trample upon it
for years together.
But God hath not left the honour of his majesty wholly
to their care. Though they now trample it in the dust,
yet that is no sign that it will finally be lost. If God had
left it wholly to their hands, it would indeed be lost. But
God doth not leave his honour and his glory with his ene
mies ; it is too precious in his eyes to be so neglected.
He hath reserved the care of it to himself : he will see to
it that his own injured majesty is vindicated. If the
honour of God, upon which sinners trample, finally lie in
the dust, it will be because he is not strong enough to vin
dicate himself. He hath sworn, in Numb. xiv. 21. "As
trulv as I live, all the earth shall be filled with the glory of
the "Lord."
Sinners despise his Son, and trample him under their
feet ; but he will see if he cannot make the glory of his
Son appear, with respect to them ; that all the earth may
know how evil a thing it is to despise the Son of God.
God intends that all men and angels, all heaven and all
earth, shall see whether he be sufficient to magnify himself
upon sinners who now despise him. He intends that the
issue of things with respect to them shall be open, that all
men may see it.
3. He hath undertaken to subdue impenitent sinners.
— Their hearts while in this world are very unsubdued.
They lift up their heads and conduct themselves very
proudly and contemptuously, and often sin with a high
hand. They set their mouths against the heavens, and
their tongues walk through the earth. • They practically
say as Pharaoh did, " Who is the Lord ? I know not the
Lord, neither will I obey his voice." Job xxi. 14. "They
say to God, Depart from us, for we desire not the know
ledge of thy ways."
Some, who cover their sin with their specious show,
who put on a face of religion, and a demure countenance
and behaviour, yet have this spirit secretly reigning in their
breasts. Notwithstanding all their fair show, and good

Serm. IX.

FUTURE PUNISHMENT 'UNAVOIDABLE.

external carriage, they despise God in their hearts, and
have the weapons of war about them, though they carry
their swords under their skirts. They have most proud,
stubborn, and rebellious hearts, which are ready to rise in
opposition, to contend with him, and to find fault with
Ins dispensations. Their hearts are full of pride, enmity,
stubbornness, and blasphemy, which work in them many
ways, while they sit under the preaching of the word, and
while the Spirit of God is striving in them : and they
always continue to oppose and resist God as long as they
live in the world ; they never lay down the weapons of
their rebellion.
But God hath undertaken to deal with them and to sub
due them ; and those proud and stubborn hearts, which
will not yield to the power of God's word, shall be broken
by the power of his hand. If they will not be willing sub
jects to the golden sceptre, and will not yield to the attrac-
tives of his love, they shall be subject to the force of the
iron rod, whether they will or not.
Them that proudly set up their own righteousness, and
their own wills, God hath undertaken to bring down : and
without doubt, it will be done. He hath undertaken to
make those who are now regardless, to regard him. They
shall know that he is Jehovah. Now they will not own
that he is the Lord ; but they shall know it. Isa. xxvi.
11." Lord, when thine hand is lifted up, they will not see :
but they shall see."
Now wicked men not only hate God, but they slight
him ; they are not afraid of him. But he will subdue
their contempt. When he shall come to take them in
hand, they will hate him still ; but they will not slight
him ; they will not make light of his power as they now
do ; they will see and feel too much of the infinity of his
Eower to slight it. They are now wont to slight his wrath ;
ut then they will slight it no more, they will find by suf
ficient experience that his wrath is not to be slighted :
they will learn this to their cost, and they never will
forget it.
4. God hath undertaken to rectify their judgments. Now
they will not be convinced of those things which God tells
them in his word. Ministers take much pains to convince
them, but all is in vain. Therefore God will undertake to
convince them, and he will do it effectually. — Now they
will not be convinced of the truth of divine things. They
have indeed convincing arguments set before them ; they
hear and see enough to convince them ; yet so prone are
they to unbelief and atheism, that divine things never seem
to them to be real. But God will hereafter make them
seem real.
Now they are always doubting of the truth of the Scrip
tures, questioning whether they be the word of God, and
whether the threatenings of Scripture be true. But God
hath undertaken to convince them that those threatenings
are true, and he will make them to know that they are
true, so that they will never doubt any more for ever.
They will be convinced by dear experience. Now they
are always questioning whether there be any such place as
hell. They hear much about it, but it always seems to
them like a dream. But God will make it seem otherwise
than a dream. Now they are often told of the vanity of
the world ; but we may as well preach to the beasts, to
persuade them of the vanity of earthly things. But God
will undertake to convince them of this ; he will hereafter
give them a thorough conviction of it, so that they shall
have a strong sense of the vanity of all these things.
Now ministers often tell sinners of the great import
ance of an interest in Christ, and that that is the one thing
needful. They are also told the folly of delaying the care
of their souls, and how much it concerns them to improve
their opportunity. But the instructions of ministers do not
convince them, therefore God will undertake to convince
them. Impenitent sinners, while in this world, hear how dread
ful hell is. But they will not believe that it is so dreadful
as ministers represent. They cannot think that they shall
to all eternity suffer such exquisite and horrible torments.
But they shall be taught and convinced to purpose, that
the representations ministers give of those torments, agree
able to (he word of God, are indeed as dreadful as they
declare. — Since God hath undertaken to deal with sinners,

79
and to rectify their judgments in these matters, he will do
it thoroughly ; for his work is perfect ; when he undertakes
to do things, he doth not do them by halves ; therefore be
fore he shall have done with sinners, he will convince them
effectually, so that they shall never be in danger of relaps
ing into their former errors. He will convince them of their
folly and stupidity in entertaining such notions as they
now entertain.
Thus God hath undertaken to deal with obstinate unbe
lievers. They carry things on in great confusion ; but we
need not be dismayed at it : let us wait, and we shall see
that God will rectify things. Sinners will not always con
tinue to rebel and despise with impunity. The honour of
God will in due time be vindicated ; and they shall be sub
dued and convicted, and shall give an account. There is
no sin, not so much as an idle word that they shall speak,
but they must give an account of it ; Matt. xii. 36. And
their sins must be fully balanced, and recompensed, and
satisfaction obtained. Because judgment against their
evil works is not speedily executed, their hearts are fully
set in them to do evil. Yet God is a righteous judge ;
he will see that judgment is executed in due time. — I
come now,
II. To show, that therefore impenitent sinners shall not
avoid their due punishment. God hath undertaken to in
flict it ; he hath engaged to do it ; he takes it as what proper
ly belongs to him, and we may expect it of him. If he
hath sworn by his life, that he will do it ; and if he hath
power sufficient ; if he is the living God, doubtless we
shall see it done. And that God hatb declared that he
will punish impenitent sinners, is manifest from many Scrip
tures ; as Deut. xxxii. 41 . " I will render vengeance to mine
enemies, and will reward them that hate me." Deut. vii.
10. " He will not be slack to him that hateth him : he will
repay him to his face." Exod. xxxiv. 7. " That will by no
means clear the guilty." Nahum i. 3. " The Lord is slow
to anger, and great in power, and will not at all acquit the
wicked." God saith in the text, " I the Lord have spoken it, and
will do it ;" which leaves no room to doubt of the actual
fulfilment of the threatening in its utmost extent. Some
have flattered themselves, that although God hath threaten
ed very dreadful things to wicked men for their sins, yet
in his heart he never intends to fulfil his threatenings, but
only to terrify them, and make them afraid, while they
live. But would the infinitely holy God, who is not a
man that he should lie, and who speaketh no vain words,
utter himself in this manner : I the Lord have spoken it,
and will do it ; I have not only threatened, but I will also
fulfil my threatenings ; when at the same time these words
did not agree with his heart, but he secretly knew that
though he had spoken, yet he intended not to do it? Who
is he that dares to entertain such horrid blasphemy in his
heart ?
No ; let no impenitent sinner flatter himself so vainly
and foolishly. If it were indeed only a man, a being of like
impotency and mutability with themselves, who had un
dertaken to deal with them ; they might perhaps with
some reason flatter themselves, that they should find some
means to avoid the threatened punishment. But since an
omniscient, omnipotent, immutable God hath undertaken,
vain ate all such hopes.
There is no hope that possibly they may steal away to
heaven, though they die unconverted. There is no hope
that they can deceive God by any false show of repentance
and faith, and so be taken to heaven through mistake : for
the eyes of God are as a flame of fire ; they perfectly see
through every man ; the inmost closet of the heart is all
open to him.
There is no hope of escaping the threatened punish
ment by sinking into nothing at death, like brute creatures.
Indeed, many wicked men upon their death-beds wish for
this, if it were so, death would be nothing to them in
comparison with what it now is. But all such wishes are
vain. There is no hope of their escaping without notice, when
they leave the body. There is no hope that God, by reason
, of the multiplicity of affairs which he hath to mind, will
happen to overlook them, and not take notice of them,
when they come to die; that their souls will slip away

80

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

privatelv, and hide themselves in some secret corner, and
so escape divine vengeance.
There is no hope that they shall be missed in a crowd at
the dav of judgment, and that they can have opportunity to
hide themselves in some cave or den of the mountains, or
in any secret hole of the earth ; and that while so doing,
they will not be minded, by reason of the many things
which will be the objects of attention on that day. — Neither
is there any hope that they will be able to crowd themselves
in among "the multitude" of the saints at the right hand of
the Judge, and so go to heaven undiscovered. Nor is
there any hope that God will alter his mind, or that he
will repent of what he hath said ; for he is not the son of
man that he should repent. Hath he said, and shall he not
do it ? Hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good ?
When did God ever undertake to do any thing and feil ?¦ —
I come now,
III. To show, that as impenitent sinners cannot shun the
threatened punishment ; so neither can they do any thing
to deliver themselves from it, or to relieve themselves un
der it. This is implied in those words of the, text, Can
thine hands be strong ? It is with our hands that we make
and accomplish things for ourselves. But the wicked in
hell will have no strength of hand to accomplish any thing
at all for themselves, or to bring to pass any deliverance, or
any degree of relief.
1 . They will not be able in that conflict to overcome their
enemy, and so to deliver themselves. God, who will then
undertake to deal with them, and will gird himself with
might to execute wrath, will be their enemy, and will act
the part of an enemy with a witness ; and they will have
no strength to oppose him. Those, who live negligent of
their souls under the light of the gospel, act as if they sup
posed, that they should be able hereafter to make their part
good with God. 1 Cor. x. 22. " Do we provoke the Lord
to jealousy ? are we stronger than he ?" — But they will have
no power, no might to resist that omnipotence, which will
be engaged against them.
2. They will have no strength in their hands to do any
thing to appease God, or in the least to abate the fierce

ness of his wrath. They will not be able to offer any satis
faction : they will not be able lo procure God s pity.
Though they cry, God will not hear them. They will find
no price to offer to God, in order to purchase favour, or to
pay any part of their debt.
3. They will not be able to find any to befriend them,
and intercede with God for them. They had the offer of a
mediator often made them in tbis world ; but they will have
no such offers in hell. None will befriend them in hell;
all there will be their enemies. They will have no friend
in heaven : none of the saints or angels will befriend them :
or if they should, it would be to no purpose. There will
be no creature that will have any power to deliver them,
nor will any ever pity them.
4. Nor will they ever be able to make their escape. They
will find no means to break prison and flee. In hell they
will be reserved in chains of darkness for ever and ever.
Malefactors have often found means to escape the hand of
civil justice. But none ever escaped out of the prison of
hell, which is God's prison. It is a strong prison : it is
beyond any finite power, or the united strength of all
wicked men and devils, to unlock or break open the door
of that prison. Christ hath the key of hell ; " he shuts
and no man opens."
5. Nor will they ever be able to find any thing to re
lieve them in hell. They will never find any resting place
there; any secret corner, which will be cooler than the
rest, where they may have a little respite, a small abate
ment of the extremity of their torment. They never will
be able to find any cooling stream or fountain, in any part
of that world of torment ; no, nor so much as a drop of
water to cool their tongues. They will find no company
to give them any comfort, or to do them the least good.
They will find no place, where they can remain, and rest,
and take breath for one minute : for they will be torment
ed with fire and brimstone ; and will have no rest day nor
night for ever and ever.
Thus impenitent sinners will be able neither to shun the
punishment threatened, nor to deliver themselves from it,
nor to find any relief under it.

SERMON X.
THE FUTURE PUNISHMENT OF THE WICKED UNAVOIDABLE AND INTOLERABLE.

Ezek. xxii. 14.
Can thine heart endure, or can thine hands be strong, in
the days that I shall deal with thee ? I the Lord have
spoken it, and will do it.
Having shown lhat impenitent sinners will hereafter be
able, neither to avoid the punishment threatened, nor to
deliver themselves from it, nor to find any relief under it ;
I come now,
IV. To show, that neither will they be able to bear it.
Neither will their hands be strong to deliver them from it,
nor will their hearts be able to endure it. It is common
with men, when they meet with calamities in this world,
in the first place to endeavour to shun them. But if they
find that they cannot shun them; then after they are
come, they endeavour to deliver themselves from them as
soon as they can ; or at least, to deliver themseives in
some degree. But if they find that they can by no means
deliver themselves, and see that they must bear them ;
then they fortify their spirits, and take up a resolution,
that they will support themselves under them as well as
they can.
But it will be utterly in vain for impenitent sinners to
think to do thus with respect to the torments of hell. They
will not be able to endure them, or at all to support them
selves under them : the torment will be immensely be
yond their strength. What will it signify for a worm,
which is about to be pressed under the weight of some

great rock, to be let fall with its whole weight upon it, to
collect its strength, to set itself to bear up the weight of
the rock, and to preserve itself from being crushed by it ? —
Much more vain will it be for a poor damned soul, to
endeavour to support itself under the weight of the wrath
of Almighty God. What is the strength of man, who is
but a worm, to support himself against the power of Je
hovah, and against the fierceness of his wrath ? What is
man's strength, when set to bear up against the exertions
of infinite power ? Matt. xxi. 44. " Whosoever shall fell
on this stone shall be broken ; but on whomsoever it shall
fall, it will grind him to powder."
When sinners hear of hell-torments, they sometimes
think with themselves ; Well, if it shall come to that, that
I must go to hell, I will bear it as well as I can : as if by
clothing themselves with resolution and firmness of mind,
they would be able to support themselves in some measure :
when, alas ! they will have no resolution, no courage at all.
However they shall have prepared themseives, and collect
ed iheir strength ; yet as soon as they shall begin to feel
that wrath, their hearts will melt and be as water. How
ever they may seem to harden their hearts, in order to pre
pare themselves to bear, yet the first moment they feel it,
their hearts will become like wax before the furnace. Their
courage and resolution will be all gone in an instant ; it
will vanish away like a shadow, in the twinkling of an
eye. The stoutest and most sturdy will have no more
courage than the feeblest infant : let a man be an infant,
or a giant, it will be all one. They will not be able to

Serm. X.

FUTURE PUNISHMENT UNAVOIDABLE.

keep alive any courage, any strength, any comfort, any
hope at all. — I come now, as was proposed,
V. To answer an inquiry which may naturally be raised
concerning these things.
Inq. Some may be ready to say, If this be the case, if
impenitent sinners can neither shun future punishment, nor
deliver themselves from it, nor bear it ; then what will
become of them ?
Ans. They will wholly sink down into eternal death.
There will be that sinking of heart, of which we now can
not conceive. We see how it is with the body when in
extreme pain. The nature of the body will support itself
for a considerable time under very great pain, so as to keep
from wholly sinking. There will be great struggles, la
mentable groans and pantings, and it may be convulsions.
These are the strugglings of nature to support itself under
the extremity of the pain. There is, as it were, a great
lothness in nature to yield to it ; it cannot bear wholly
to sink.
But yet sometimes pain of body is so very exquisite,
that the nature of the body cannot support itself under it ;
however loth it may be to sink, yet it cannot bear the pain ;
there are a few struggles, and throes, and pantings, and it
may be a shriek or two, and then nature yields to the
violence of the torments, sinks down, and the body dies.
This is the death of the body. So it will be with the soul
in hell ; it will have no strength or power to deliver itself;
and its torment and horror will be so great, so mighty, so
vastly disproportioned to its strength, that having no
strength in the least to support itself, although it be infi
nitely contrary to the nature and inclination of the soul
utterly to sink ; yet it will utterly and totally sink, with
out the least degree of remaining comfort, or strength, or
courage, or hope. And though it will never be annihilated,
its being and perception wili never be abolished ; yet such
will be the infinite depth of gloominess into which it will
sink, that it will be in a state of death, eternal death.
The nature of man desires happiness ; it is the nature
of the soul to crave and thirst after well-being : and if it
be under misery, it eagerly pants after relief; and the
greater the misery is, the more eagerly doth it struggle for
help. But if ali relief be withholden, all strength over
borne, all support utterly gone; then it sinks into the
darkness of death.
We can conceive but little of the matter ; but to help
your conception, imagine yourself to be cast into a fiery
oven, or a great furnace, where your pain would be as
much greater than that occasioned by accidentally touch
ing a coal of fire, as the heat is greater. Imagine also that
your body were to lie there for a quarter of an hour, full
of fire, and all the while full of quick sense; what horror
would you feel at the entrance of such a furnace ! and how
long would that quarter of an hour seem to you ! And
after you had endured it for one minute, how overbearing
would it be to you to think that you had it to endure the
other fourteen !
But what would be the effect on your soul, if you knew
you must lie there enduring that torment to the full for
twenty-four hours ! And how much greater would be the
effect, if you knew you must endure it for a whole year ;
and how vastly greater still, if you knew you must endure
it for a thousand years ! — O then, how would your hearts
sink, if you knew, that you must bear it for ever and ever !
that there would be no end ! that after millions of millions
of ages, your torment would be no nearer to an end, and
that you never, never should be delivered !
But your torment in hell will be immensely greater
than this illustration represents. How then will the heart
of a poor creature sink under it! How utterly inex-
Eressible and inconceivable must the sinking of the soul
e in such a case !
This is the death threatened in the law. This is dying in
the highest sense of the word. This is to die sensibly ;
to die and know it ; to be sensible of the gloom of death.
This is to be undone ; this is worthy of the name of de
struction. This sinking of the soul under an infinite
weight, which it cannot bear, is the gloom of hell. We
read in Scripture of the blackness of darkness ; this is it,
this is the very thing. — We read in Scripture of sinners
being lost, and of their losing their souls : this is tbe thing
VOL. II. ' G

intended ; this is to lose the soul : they that are the sub
jects of this are utterly lost.

APPLICATION.
This subject may be applied in a use of awakening to
impenitent sinners. — What hath been said under this doc
trine is for thee, O impenitent sinner, O poor wretch, who
art in the same miserable state in which thou camest into
the world, excepting that thou art loaded with vastly
greater guilt by thine actual sins. These dreadful things
which thou hast heard are for thee, who art yet uncon
verted, and still remainest an alien and stranger, without
Christ and without God in the world. They are for thee,
who to this day remainest an enemy to God, and a child
of the devil, even in this remarkable season, when others
both here and elsewhere, far and near, are flocking to
Christ ; for thee who hearest the feme of these things, but
knowest nothing of the power of godliness in thine own
heart. Whoever thou art, whether young or old, little or great,
if thou art in a Christless unconverted state, this is the
wrath, this is the death to which thou art condemned.
This is the wrath that abideth on thee ; this is the hell over
which thou hangest, and into which thou art ready to drop
every day and every night.
If thou shalt remain blind, and hard, and dead in sin a
little longer, this destruction will come upon thee : God
hath spoken, and he will do it. It is in vain for thee to
flatter thyself with hopes that thou shalt avoid it, or to say
in thine heart, perhaps it will not be ; perhaps things have
been represented worse than they are. If thou wilt not be
convinced by the word preached to thee by men in the
name of God, God himself will undertake to convince
thee. Ezek. xiv. 4, 7, 8.
Doth it seem to thee not real that thou shalt suffer such
a dreadful destruction, because it seems to thee that thou
dost not deserve it ? and because thou dost not see any
thing so horrid in thyself, as to answer such a dreadful
punishment? — Why is it that thy wickedness doth not
seem bad enough to deserve this punishment ? The reason
is, that thou lovest thy wickedness ; thy wickedness seems
good to thee ; it appears lovely to thee ; thou dost not see
any such hatefulness in it as to answer such misery.
But know, thou stupid, blind, hardened wretch, that
God doth not see, as thou seest with thy polluted eyes :
thy sins in his sight are infinitely abominable. — Thou
knowest that thou hast a thousand and a thousand times
made light of the majesty of God. And why should not
that majesty, which thou hast thus despised, be manifested
in the greatness of thy punishment? Thou hast often
heard what a great and dreadful God Jehovah is : but
thou hast made so light of it, that thou hast not been afraid
of him, thou hast not been afraid to sin against him, nor to
go on day after day, by thy sins, to provoke him to wrath,
nor to cast his commands under foot, and trample on
them. Now why may not God, in the greatness of thy
destruction, justly vindicate and manifest the greatness of
that majesty which thou hast despised ?
Thou hast despised the mighty power of God ; thou hast
not been afraid of it. Now why is it not fit that God
should show the greatness of his power in thy ruin. What
king is there who will not show his authority in the
punishment of those subjects that despise it? and who
will not vindicate his royal majesty in executing vengeance
on those that rise in rebellion ? And art thou such a fool
as to think that the great King of heaven and earth, before
whom all other kings are so many grasshoppers, will not
vindicate his kingly majesty on such contemptuous rebels
as thou art ? Thou art very much mistaken if thou thinkest
so. If thou be regardless of God's majesty, be it known
to thee, God is not regardless of his own majesty; he
taketh care of its honour, and he will vindicate it.
Think it not strange that God should deal so severely
with thee, or that the wrath which thou shalt suffer should
be so great. For as great as it is, it is no greater than that
love of God which ihou hast despised. The love of God,
and his grace, condescension, and pity to sinners in send
ing his Son into the world to die for them, is every whit

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

82
as great and wonderful as this inexpressible wrath. This
mercy hath been held' forth to thee, and described in its
wonderful greatness, hundreds of times, and as often hath
it been offered to thee ; but thou wouldst not accept
Christ ; thou wouldst not have this great love of God ;
thou despisedst God's dying love; thou trampledst the
benefits of it under foot. JNow why shouldst thou not
have wrath as great as that love and mercy which thou
despisest and rejectest ? Doth it seem incredible to thee
that God should so harden his heart against a poor sinner,
as to destroy him, and to bear him down with infinite
power and "merciless wrath ? and is this a greater thing
than it is for thee to harden thy heart, as thou hast done,
against infinite mercy, and against the dying love of God ?
Doth it seem to thee incredible, that God should be so
utterly regardless of the sinner's welfare, as to sink him
into an infinite abyss of misery ? Is this shocking to thee ?
And is it not at all shocking to thee, that thou shouldst be
so utterly regardless as thou hast been of the honour and
glory of the infinite God ?
It arises from thy stupidity, and because thou hast a
heart of stone, that thou art so senseless of thine own
wickedness, as to think that thou hast not deserved such a
punishment, and that it is to thee incredible that it will be
inflicted upon thee. But if, when all is said and done,
thou be not convinced, wait but a little while, and thou
wilt be convinced : God will undertake to do the work
which ministers cannot do. Though judgment against
thine evil works be not yet executed, and God now let
thee alone ; yet he will soon come upon thee with his great
power, and then thou shalt know what God is, and what
thou art.
Flatter not thyself, that if these things shall prove true,
and the worst shall come, thou wilt set thyself to bear it as
well as thou canst. What will it signify, to set thyself to
bear and to collect thy strength to support thyself, when
thou shalt fall into the hands of that omnipotent King,
Jehovah ? He that made thee, can make his sword ap
proach unto thee. His sword is not the sword of man,
nor is his wrath the wrath of man. If it were, possibly
stoutness might be maintained under it. But it is the
fierceness of the wrath of the great God, who is able to
baffle and dissipate all thy strength in a moment. He can
fill thy poor soul with an ocean of wrath, a deluge of fire
and brimstone; or he can make it ten thousand times
fuller of torment than ever an oven was full of fire ; and
at the same time, can fill it with despair of ever seeing any
end to its torment, or any rest from its misery : and then
where will be thy strength? what will become of thy
courage ? what will signify thine attempts to bear ?
What art thou in the hands of the great God, who made
heaven and earth by speaking a word ? What art thou,
when dealt with by that strength, which manages all this
vast universe, holds the globe of the earth, directs all the
motions of the heavenly bodies from age to age, and, when
the fixed time shall come, will shake all to pieces ? Tliere
are other wicked beings a thousand times stronger than
thou : there are strong and proud spirits of a gigantic
stoutness and hardiness. But how little are they in the
hands of the great God ! they are less than weak infants ;
they are nothing, and less than nothing, in the hands of an
angry God, as will appear at the day of judgment. Their
hearts will be broken ; they will sink ; they will have no
strength nor courage left ; they will be as weak as water ;
their souls will sink down into an infinite gloom, an abyss
of death and despair. Then what will become of thee, a
poor worm, when thou shalt fall into the hands of that God,
when he shall come to show his wrath, and make his
power known on thee ?
If the strength of all the wicked men on earth, and of
all the devils in hell, were united in one, and thou wert
possessed of it all ; and if the courage, greatness, and stout
ness of all their hearts were united in thy single heart, thou
wouldst be nothing in the hands of Jehovah. If it were
all collected, and thou shouldst set thyself to bear as well
as thou couldst, all would sink under his great wrath in an
instant, and would be utterly abolished : thine hands
would drop down at once, and thine heart would melt as
wax. The great mountains, the firm rocks, cannot stand
before the power of God. He can tear the earth in pieces

in a moment; yea, he can shatter the whole universe, and
dash it to pieces at one blow. How then will tlnne hands
be strong, or thine heart endure ?
Thou canst not stand before a lion ot the forest ; an
angry wild beast, if stirred up, will easily tear such an
one as thou art in pieces. Y'ea, not only so, but thou art
crushed before the moth. A little thing, a little worm or
spider, or some such insect, is able to kill thee. What
then canst thou do in the hands of God ? It is vain to set
the briers and thorns in battle-array against glowing flames ;
the points of thorns, though sharp, do nothing to withstand
the fire.
Some of you have seen buildings on fire; imagine
therefore with yourselves, what a poor hand you would.
make at fighting with the flames, if you were in the midst
of so great and fierce a fire. You have often seen a spider,
or some other noisome insect, when thrown into the midst
of a fierce fire, and have observed how immediately it
yields to the force of the flames. There is no long struggle,
no fighting against the fire, no strength exerted to oppose
the heat, or to fly from it; but it immediately stretches
forth itself and yields ; and the fire takes possession of it,
and at once it becomes full of fire. Here is a little image
of what you will be in hell, except you repent and fly to
Christ. To encourage yourselves, that you will set your
selves to bear hell-torments as well as you can, is just as
if a worm, that is about to be thrown into a glowing fur
nace, should swell and fortify itself, and prepare itself to
fight the flames.
What can you do with lightnings ? What doth it signify
to fight with them ? What an absurd figure would a poor
weak man make, who in a thunder-storm should expect a
flash of lightning on his head or his breast, and should
go forth sword in hand to oppose it ; when a flash would
in an instant drink up all his spirits and his life, and melt
his sword !
Consider these things, all you enemies of God, and re
jecters of Christ, whether you be old men and women,
Christless heads of families, or young people and wicked,
children. Be assured, that if you do not hearken and re
pent, God intends to show his wrath, and make his power
known upon you. He intends to magnify himself exceed
ingly in sinking you down in hell. He intends to show
his great majesty at the day of judgment, before a vast
assembly, in your misery ; before a greater assembly many
thousand-fold, than ever yet appeared on earth ; before a
vast assembly of saints, and a vast assembly of wicked
men, a vast assembly of holy angels, and before all the
crew of devils. God will before all these get himself
honour in your destruction ; you shall be tormented in the
presence of them all. Then all will see that God is a.
great God indeed ; then all will see how dreadful a thing
it is to sin against such a God, and to reject such a Saviour,
such love and grace, as you have rejected and despised.
All will be filled with awe at the great sight, and all the
saints and angels will look upon you, and adore that
majesty, that mighty power, and that holiness and justice or
God, which shall appear in your ineffable destruction and
misery. It is probable that some who hear me, are at this very
moment unawakened, and are in a great degree careless
about their souls. I fear there are some among us who
are most fearfully hardened : their hearts are harder than
the very rocks. It is easier to make impressions upon an
adamant than upon their hearts. , I suppose some of you
have heard all that I have said with ease and quietness : it
appears to you as great sounding words, but doth not
reach your hearts. You have heard such things many
times : you have been too much used to the roaring of
heaven's cannon, to be frightened at it. It will therefore
probably be in vain for me to say any thing further to you ;
1 will only put you in mind that ere long God will deal
with you. I cannot deal with you, you despise what I
say ; I have no power to make you sensible of your dan
ger and misery, and of the dreadfulness of the wrath of God.
The attempts1 of men in this way have often proved vain.
However, God hath undertaken to deal with such men
as you are. It is his manner commonly first to let men
try their utmost strength ; particularly to let ministers try,
that thus he may show ministers their own weakness and,

Serm. XI.

THE ETERNITY OF HELL TORMENTS.

83

impotency ; and when they have done what they can, and
all fails, then God takes the matter into his own hands.
So it seems by your obstinacy as if God intended to un
dertake to deal with you. He will undertake to subdue
you ; he will see, if he cannot cure you of your senseless
ness and regardlessness of his threatenings. And you
will be convinced ; you will be subdued effectually ;
your strength will be utterly broken, your courage and hope
will sink. God will surely break those who will not bow.
Having girded himself with his power and wrath, he

hath heretofore undertaken to deal with many hard, stub
born, senseless, obstinate hearts ; and he never failed, he
always did his work thoroughly.
It will not be long before you will be wonderfully
changed. You who now hear of hell and the wrath of the
great God, and sit here so easy and quiet, and go away so
careless ; by and by will shake and tremble, and cry out,
and shriek, and gnash your teeth, and will be thoroughly
convinced of the vast weight and importance of these
things which you now despise.

SERMON XI.*

THE ETERNITY OF HELL TORMENTS.

Matt. xxv. 46.
These shall go away into everlasting punishment.
In this chapter we have the most particular description
of the day of judgment, of any in the whole Bible. Christ
here deciares, that when he shall hereafter sit on the throne
of his glory, the righteous and the wicked shall be set
before him, and separated one from the other, as a shep
herd divideth his sheep from the goats. Then we have an
account how both will be judged according to their works ;
how the good works of the one and the evil works of the
other will be rehearsed, and how the sentence shall be
pronounced accordingly. We are told what the sentence
will be on each, and then we have an account of the exe
cution of the sentence on both. In the words of the text
is the account of the execution of the sentence on the
wicked or the ungodly : concerning which, it is to my pur
pose to observe two things.
1 . The duration of the punishment on which they are
here said to enter : it is called everlasting punishment.
2. The time of their entrance on this everlasting punish
ment ; viz. after the day of judgment, when all these things
that are of a temporary continuance shall have come to an
end, and even those of them that are most lasting, — the
frame of the world itself; the earth which is said to abide
for ever ; the ancient mountains and everlasting hills ; the
sun, moon, and stars. When the heavens shall have
waxed old like a garment, and as a vesture shall be changed,
then shall be the time when the wicked shall enter on their
punishment. Doctrine. — The misery of the wicked in hell will be ab
solutely eternal.
There are two opinions which I mean to oppose in this
doctrine. One is, That the eternal death with which wicked
men are threatened in Scripture, signifies no more than
eternal annihilation; that God will punish their wickedness
by eternally abolishing their being.
The other opinion which I mean to oppose is, That
though the punishment ofthe wicked shall consist in sen
sible misery, yet it shall not be absolutely eternal ; but
only of a very long continuance.
Therefore to establish the doctrine in opposition lo these
different opinions, I shall undertake to show,
I. That it is not contrary to the divine perfections to
inflict on wicked men a punishment that is absolutely
eternal. II. That the eternal death which God threatens, is
not annihilation, but an abiding sensible punishment or
misery. III. That this misery will not only continue for a very
long time, but*will be absolutely without end.
IV. That various good ends will be obtained by the
eternal punishment of the wicked.
* Dated, April, 1739.
G 2

I. I am to show that it is not contrary to the divine
perfections to inflict on wicked men a punishment that is
absolutely eternal.
This is the sum of the objections usually made against
this doctrine, That it is inconsistent with the justice, and
especially with the mercy, of God. And some say, If it be
strictly just, yet how can we suppose that a merciful God
can bear eternally to torment his creatures.
1. I shall briefly show, That it is not inconsistent with
the justice of God to inflict an eternal punishment. To
evince this, I shall use only one argument, viz. that sin is
heinous enough to deserve such a punishment, and such a
punishment is no more than proportionable to the evil or
demerit of sin. If the evil of sin be infinite, as the punish
ment is, then it is manifest that the punishment is no more
than proportionable to the sin punished, and is no more
than sin deserves. And if the obligation to love, honour,
and obey God be infinite, then sin which is the violation of
this obligation, is a violation of infinite obligation, and so is
an infinite evil. Again, if God be infinitely worthy of love,
honour, and obedience, then our obligation to love, and
honour, and obey him is infinitely great. — So that God
being infinitely glorious, or infinitely worthy of our love,
honour, and obedience ; our obligation to love, honour,
and obey him, and so to avoid all sin, is infinitely great.
Again, our obligation to love, honour, and obey God being
infinitely great, sin is the violation of infinite obligation,
and so is an infinite evil. Once more, sin being an infinite
evil, deserves an infinite punishment, an infinite punish
ment is no more than it deserves : therefore such punish
ment is just; which was the thing to be proved. There is
no evading the force of this reasoning, but by denying that
God, the sovereign of the universe, is infinitely glori
ous ; which I presume none of my hearers will venture
to do.
2. I am to show, That it is not inconsistent with the
mercy of God, to inflict an eternal punishment on wicked
men. It is an unreasonable and unscriptural notion ofthe
mercy of God, that he is merciful in such a sense that he
cannot bear that penal justice should be executed. This is
to conceive of the mercy of God as a passion to which his
nature is so subject that God is liable to be moved, and
affected, and overcome by seeing a creature in misery, so
that he cannot bear to see justice executed : which is a most
unworthy and absurd notion of the mercy of God, and
would, if true, argue great weakness. — It would be a great
defect, and not a perfection, in the sovereign and supreme
Judge of the world, to be merciful in such a sense that he
could not bear lo have penal justice executed. It is a
very unscriptural notion of the mercy of God. The Scrip
tures every where represent the mercy of God as free and
sovereign, and not that the exercises of it are necessary, so
that God cannot bear justice should take place. The
Scriptures abundantly speak of it as the glory ofthe divine
attribute of mercy, that it is free and sovereign in its exer
cises ; and not that God cannot but deliver sinners from

•84

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

misery. This is a mean and most unworthy idea of the
divine mercy.
It is most absurd also as it is contrary to plain feet. For
if there be any meaning in the objection, this is supposed
in it, that all misery of The creature, whether just or unjust,
is in itself contrary to the nature of God. For if his
mercy be of such a nature, that a very great degree of
misery, though just, is contrary to his nature ; then it is
only to add to the mercy, and then a less degree of misery
is contrary to his nature ; again to add further to it, and a
still less degree of misery is contrary to his nature. And
so the mercy of God being infinite, all misery must be
contrary to his nature ; which we see to be contrary to
fact: for we see that God in his providence, doth indeed
inflict very great calamities on mankind even in this
life. However strong such kind of objections against the
eternal misery of the wicked, may seem to the carnal,
senseless hearts of men, as though it were against God's
justice. and mercy; yet their seeming strength arises from
a want of sense of the infinite evil, odiousness, and provo
cation there is in sin. Hence it seems to us not suitable
that any poor creature should be the subject of such
misery, because we have no sense of any thing abominable
and provoking in any creature answerable to it. If we had,
then this infinite calamity would not seem unsuitable.
Tor one thing would but appear answerable and propor
tionable to another, and so the mind would rest in it as fit
and suitable, and no more than what is proper to be
ordered by the just, holy, and good Governor of the
world. That this is so, we may be convinced by this considera
tion, viz. that when we hear or read of some horrid in
stances of cruelty, it may be to some poor innocent child,
or some holy martyr — and their cruel persecutors, having
no regard to their shrieks and cries, only sported themselves
. . with their misery, and would not vouchsafe even to put an
end to their lives — we have a sense of the evil of them, and
they make a deep impression on our minds. Hence it
seems just, every way fit and suitable, that God should
inflict a very terrible punishment on persons who have per-

to any perfection of the Judge of the world ; we can think
of it without being at all shocked. The reason is, that we
have a sense of the evil of their conduct, and a sense of
the proportion there is between the evil or demerit and the
punishment. Just so, if we saw a proportion between the evil of sin
and eternal punishment, if we saw something in wicked
men that should appear as hateful to us, as eternal misery
appears dreadful ; something that should as much stir up
indignation and detestation, as eternal misery does terror;
all objections against this doctrine would vanish at once.
Though now it seem incredible; though when we hear
of it and are so often told of it, we know not how to
realize it; though when we hear of such a degree and
duration of torments as are held forth in this doctrine,
and think what eternity is, it is ready to seem impossi
ble, that such torments should be inflicted on poor
feeble creatures by a Creator of infinite mercy ; yet this
arises principally from these two causes : (1.) It is so con
trary to the depraved inclinations of mankind, that they
hate to believe it, and cannot bear it should be true. (2.)
They see not the suitableness of eternal punishment to the
evil of sin; they see not that it is no more than propor
tionable to the demerit of sin.
Having thus shown that the eternal punishment of the
wicked is not inconsistent with the divine perfections, I
shall now proceed to show, that it is so fer from being
inconsistent with the divine perfections, that those perfec
tions evidently require it ; i. e. they require that sin should
have so great a punishment, either in the person who has
committed it, or in a surety ; and therefore with respect to
those who believe not in a surety, and have no interest
in him, the divine perfections require that this punishment
should be inflicted on them.
This appears, as it is not only not unsuitable that sin
should be thus punished; but it is positively suitable,
decent, and proper. — If this be made to appear, that it is
positively suitable that sin should be thus punished, then

it will follow, that the perfections of God require it ; for
certainly the perfections of God require what is proper to
be done. The perfection and excellency of God require
that to take place which is perfect, excellent, and proper
in its own nature. But that sin should be punished eter
nally is such a thing ; which appears by the following
considerations. 1 . It is suitable that God should infinitely hate sin, and
be an infinite enemy to it. Sin, as I have before shown,
is an infinite evil, and therefore is infinitely odious and
detestable. It is proper that God should hate every evil,
and hate it according to its odious and detestable nature.
And sin being infinitely evil and odious, it is proper that
God should hate it infinitely.
2. If infinite hatred of sin be suitable to the divine
character, then the expressions of such hatred are also suit
able to his character. Because that which is suitable to
be, is suitable to be expressed ; that which is lovely in
itself, is lovely when it appears. If it be suitable that
God should be an infinite enemy to sin, or that he should
hate it infinitely, then it is suitable that he should act as
such an enemy. If it be suitable that he should hate and
have enmity against sin, then it is suitable for him to
express that hatred and enmity in that to which hatred
and enmity by its own nature tends. But certainly hatred
in its own nature tends to opposition, and to set itself
against that which is hated, and to procure its evil and not
its good : and that in proportion to the hatred. Great
hatred naturally tends to the great evil, and infinite hatred
to the infinite evil, of its object.
Whence it follows, that if it be suitable that there should
be infinite hatred of sin in God, as I have shown it is, it is
suitable that he should execute an infinite punishment on
it ; and so the perfections of God require that he should
punish sin with an infinite, or which is the same thing,
with an eternal, punishment.
Thus we see not only the great objection against this
doctrine answered, but the truth of the doctrine establish
ed by reason. I now proceed further to establish it by
considering the remaining particulars under the doctrine.
II. That eternal death or punishment which God

petrated such wickedness. It seems no way disagreeable ' threatens to the wicked, is not annihilation, but an abiding

sensible punishment or misery. — The truth of this propo
sition will appear by the following particulars.
1. The Scripture every where represents the punish
ment of the wicked, as implying very extreme pains and
sufferings ; but a state of annihilation is no state of suffer
ing at all. Persons annihilated have no sense or feeling of
pain or pleasure, and much less do they feel that punish
ment which carries in it an extreme pain or suffering.
They no more suffer to eternity than they did suffer from
eternity. 2. It is agreeable both to Scripture and reason to sup
pose, that the wicked will be punished in such a manner,
that they shall be sensible of the punishment they are
under ; that they should be sensible that now God has
executed and fulfilled what he threatened, what they dis
regarded, and would not believe. They should know
themselves that justice takes place upon them ; that God
vindicates that majesty which they despised ; that God is
not so despicable a being as they thought him to be.
They should be sensible for what they are punished, while
they are under the threatened punishment. It is reason
able that they should be sensible of their own guilt, and
should remember their former opportunities and obliga
tions, and should see their own folly and God's justice. —
If the punishment threatened be eternal annihilation, they
will never know that it is inflicted ; they will never know
that God is just in their punishment, or that they have
their deserts. And how is this agreeable to the Scrip
tures, in which God threatens, that he will repay the
wicked to his face, Deut. vii. 10. And to that in Job xxi.
19, 20. " God rewardeth him, and he shall know it; his
eyes shall see his destruction, and he shall drink of the
wrath of the Almighty." And to that in Ezek. xxii. 21,
22. " Yea, I will gather you, and blow upon you in the
fire of my wrath, and ye shall be melted in the midst
thereof. As silver is melted in the midst of the furnace,
so shall ye be melted in the midst thereof; and ye shall
know that I the Lord have poured out my fury upon

Serm. XI.

THE ETERNITY OF HELL TORMENTS.

85

you." — And how is it agreeable to that expression so often
annexed to the threatenings of God's wrath against wicked
men, And ye shall know that I am the Lord ?
3. The Scripture teaches, that the wicked will suffer
different degrees of torment, according to the different
aggravations of their sins. Matt. v. 22. " Whosoever is
angry with his brother without a cause, shall be in danger
of the judgment : and whosoever shall say to his brother,
Raca, shall be in danger of the council : but whosoever
shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell-fire." Here
Christ teaches us, that the torments of wicked men will be
different in different persons, according to the different de
grees of their guilt. — It shall be more tolerable for Sodom
and Gomorrah, for Tyre and Sidon, than for the cities where
most of Christ's mighty works were wrought.— Again, our
Lord assures us, lhat he that knoweth his Lord's will,
and prepareth not himself, nor doth according to his will,
shall be beaten with many stripes. But he that knoweth
not, and committeth things worthy of stripes, shall be
beaten with few stripes  These several passages of Scrip
ture infallibly prove, that there will be different degrees
of punishment in hell ; which is utterly inconsistent with
the supposition, that the punishment consists in annihila
tion, in which there can be no degrees.
4. The Scriptures are very express and abundant in this
matter, That the eternal punishment of the wicked will
consist in sensible misery and torment, and not in an
nihilation. — What is said of Judas is worthy to be ob
served here, " It had been good for that' man if he had
not been born ;" Matt. xxvi. 24. — This seems plainly to
teach us, that the punishment of the wicked is such that
their existence, upon the whole, is worse than non-ex
istence. But if their punishment consists merely in
annihilation, this is not true. — The wicked, in their punish
ment, are said to weep, and wail, and gnash their teeth ;
which implies not only real existence, but life, knowledge,
and activity, and that they are in a very sensible and
exquisite manner affected with their punishment. — Isa.
xxxiii. 14. Sinners in the state of their punishment
are represented to dwell with everlasting burnings. But if
they are only turned into nothing, where is the foundation
for this representation ? It is absurd to say, that sinners
will dwell with annihilation ; for there is no dwelling in
the case. It is also absurd to call annihilation a
burning, which implies a state of existence, sensibility,
and extreme pain ; whereas in annihilation there is
neither. It is said, that they shall be cast into a lake of fire and
brimstone. How can this expression with any propriety
be understood to mean a state of annihilation ? Yea, they
are expressly said to have no rest day nor night, but to be
tormented with fire and brimstone for ever and ever, Rev.
xx. 10. But annihilation is a state of rest, a state in which
not the least torment can possibly be suffered. The rich
man in hell lifted up his eyes being in torment, and saw
Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom, and entered
into a particular conversation, with Abraham; all which
proves that he was not annihilated.
The spirits of ungodly men before the resurrection are
not in a state of annihilation, but in a state of misery ; they
are spirits in prison, as the apostle saith of them that were
drowned in the flood, 1 Pet. iii. 19. — And this appears
very plainly from the instance of the rich man before
mentioned, if we consider him as representing the wicked
in their separate state between death and the resurrection.
But if the wicked even then, are in a state of torment,
much more will they be, when they shall come to suffer
that which is the proper punishment of their sins.
Annihilation is not so great a calamity but that some
men have undoubtedly chosen it, rather than a state of
suffering even in this life. This was the case of Job, a
good man. But if a good man in this world may suffer
that which is worse than annihilation, doubtless the proper
punishment of the wicked, in which God means to mani
fest his peculiar abhorrence of their wickedness, will be a
calamity vastly greater still ; and therefore cannot be anni
hilation. That must be a very mean and contemptible
testimony of God's wrath towards those who have rebelled
against his crown and dignity — broken his laws, and de
spised both his vengeance and his grace — which is not so

great a calamity as some of his true children have suffered
in life.
The eternal punishment of the wicked is said to be the
second death, as Rev. xx. 14. and xxi. 8. It is doubtless
called the second death in reference to the death of the
body ; and as the death ofthe body is ordinarily attended
with great pain and distress, so the like, or something vast
ly greater, is implied in calling the eternal punishment of
the wicked the second death ; and there would be no pro
priety in calling it so, if it consisted merely in annihilation.
And this second death wicked men will suffer ; for it can
not be called the second death with respect to any other
than men ; it cannot be called so with respect to devils, as
they die no temporal death, which is the first death. In
Rev. ii. 11. it is said, " He that overcometh, shall not be
hurt of the second death ;" implying that all who do not
overcome their lusts, but live in sin, shall suffer the second
death. Again, wicked men will suffer the same kind of death
with the devils ; as in verse 25th of the context, " Depart,
ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and
his angels." Now the punishment ofthe devil is not anni
hilation, but torment : he therefore trembles for fear of it ;
not for fear of being annihilated, — he would be glad of that.
What he is afraid of is torment, as appears by Luke viii.
28. where he cries out, and beseeches Christ, that he
would not torment him before the time. And it is said,
Rev. xx. 10. " The devil that deceived them was cast into-
the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the
false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night,
for ever and ever."
It is strange how men will go directly against so plain
and full revelations of Scripture, as to suppose, notwith
standing all these things, that the eternal punishment
threatened against the wicked signifies no more than anni
hilation. III. As the future punishment of the wicked consists in
sensible misery ; so it shall not only continue for a very long
time, but shall be absolutely without end.
Of those who have held that the torments of hell are not
absolutely eternal, there have been two sorts. Some sup
pose, that in the threatenings of everlasting punishment,
the terms used do not necessarily import a proper eternity,
but only a very long duration. Others suppose, that if
they do import a proper eternity, \et we cannot necessari
ly conclude thence, that God will fulfil his threatenings. —
Therefore I shall,
First, Show that the threatenings of eternal punishment
do very plainly and fully import a proper, absolute eternity,
and not merely a long duration. — This appears,
1. Because when the Scripture speaks of the wicked
being sentenced to their punishment at the time when all
temporal things are come to an end,, it then speaks of it as
everlasting, as in the text, and elsewhere. It is true, that
the term for ever is not always in Scripture used to signify
eternity. Sometimes it means, as long as a man liveth. In
this sense it is said, that the Hebrew servant, who- chose
to abide with his master, should have his ear bored, and
should serve his master for ever. Sometimes it means,
during the continuance of the state and church of the Jews.
In this sense, several laws, which were peculiar to that
church, and were to continue in force no longer than that
church should last, are called statutes for ever. See
Exodus xxvii. 21. chap, xxviii. 43, &c. Sometimes it
means as long as the world stands. So in Eccles. i. 4.
" One generation passeth away, and another generation.
cometh ; but the earth abideth forever."
And this last is the longest temporal duration that such
a term is ever used to signify. For the duration of the
world is the longest of things temporal, as its beginning
was the earliest. Therefore when the Scripture speaks of
things as being before the foundation of the world, it means
that they existed before the beginning of time. So those
things which continue after the end of the world, are eter
nal things. When heaven and earth are shaken and re
moved, those things that remain will be what cannot be
shaken, but will remain for ever, Heb. xii. 26, 27.
But the punishment of the wicked will not only remain
after the end of the world, but is called everlasting, as in
the text, " These shall go away into everlasting punishment."

86

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

So in 2 Thess. i. 9, 10. " Who shall be punished with
everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and
from the glory of his power ; when he shall come to be glo
rified in his saints," &c. — Now, what can be meant by a
thing being everlasting, after all temporal things are come
to an end, but that it is absolutely without end ?
2. Such expressions are used to set forth the duration of
the punishment of the wicked, as are never used in the
scriptures of the New Testament to signify any thing but a
proper eternity. It is said, not only that the punishment
shall be for ever, but for ever and ever. Rev. xiv. 11.
" The smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and
ever." — Rev. xx. 10. " Shall be tormented day and night,
for ever and ever." — Doubtless the New Testament has
some expression to signify a proper eternity, of which it
has so often occasion to speak. But it has no higher ex
pression than this : if this do not signify an absolute eter
nity, there is none that does.
3. The Scripture uses the same way of speaking to set
forth the eternity of punishment and the eternity ot happi
ness, yea, the eternity of God himself. Matt. xxv. 46. " These
shall go away into everlasting punishment : but the
righteous into life eternal." The words everlasting and
eternal, in the original, are the very same. Rev. xxii. 5.
" And they (the saints) shall reign /b r ever and ever." And
the Scripture has no higher expression to signify the eter
nity of God himself, than that of his being for ever and
ever ; as Rev. iv. 9. " To him who sat on the throne, who
liveth for ever and ever;" and in the 10th verse, and in
chap. v. 14. and chap. x. 6. and chap. xv. 7.
Again, the Scripture expresses God's eternity by this,
that it shall be for ever, after the world is come to an end ;
Psalm cii. 26,27. " They shall perish, but thou shalt en
dure : yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment ; as
a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be chang
ed. But thou art the same, and thy years shall have no
end." 4. The Scripture says, that wicked men shall not be
delivered, till thev have paid the uttermost farthing of their
debt; Matt. v. 26. The last mite; Luke x. 59. i. e. the
utmost that is deserved ; and all mercy is excluded by this
expression. But we have shown that they deserve an infi
nite, an endless punishment.
5. The Scripture says absolutely, that their punishment
shall not have an end; Mark ix. 44. " Where their worm
dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." Now, it will not
do to say, that the meaning is, Their worm shall live a great
while, or that it shall be a great while before their fire is
quenched. If ever the time comes that their worm shall
die ; if ever there shall be a quenching of the fire at all, then
it is not true that their worm dieth not, and that the fire is
not quenched. For if there be a dying of the worm, and a
quenching of the fire, let it be at what time it will, nearer
or further off, it is equally contrary to such a negation — it
dieth not, it is not quenched.
Secondly, There are others who allow, that the expres
sions of the threatenings do denote a proper eternity ; but
then, they say, it doth not certainly follow, that the
punishment will really be eternal ; because, God may
threaten, and yet not fulfil his threatenings. Though
they allow that the threatenings are positive and peremp
tory, without any reserve, yet they say, God is not obliged
to fulfil absolute positive threatenings, as he is absolute
promises. Because in promises a right is conveyed that
the creature to whom the promises are made will claim ;
but there is no danger of the creature's claiming any right
by a threatening. Therefore I am now to show, that what
God has positively declared in this matter, does indeed
make it certain, that it shall be as he has declared. To
this end, I shall mention two things :
1. It is evidently contrary to the divine truth, positively
to declare any thing to be real, whether past, present, or
to come, which God at the same time knows is not so.
Absolutely threatening that any thing shall be, is the same
as absolutely declaring that it is to be. For any to sup
pose, that God absolutely declares that any thing will be,
which he at the same time knows will not be, is blasphemy,
if there be any such thing as blasphemy.
Indeed, it is very true, that there is no obligation on
God, arising from the claim of the creature, as there is in

promises. They seem to reckon the wrong way, who
suppose the necessity of the execution of the threatening
to arise from a proper obligation on God to the creature to
execute consequent on his threatening. For indeed the
certainty of the execution arises the other way, viz. on the
obligation there was on the omniscient God, in threatening,
to conform his threatening to what he knew would be
future in execution. Though, strictly speaking, God is
not properly obliged to the creature to execute because he
has threatened, yet he was obliged not absolutely to threat
en, if at the same time he knew that he should not or
would not fulfil : because this would not have been con
sistent with his truth. So that from the truth of God
there is an inviolable connexion between positive threaten
ings and execution. They who suppose that God posi
tively declared, that he would do contrary to what he
knew would come to pass, do therein suppose, that he
absolutely threatened contrary to what he knew to be
truth. And how any one can speak contrary to what he
knows to be truth, in declaring, promising, or threatening,
or any other way, consistently with inviolable truth, is in
conceivable. ¦*'
Threatenings are significations of something; and if
they are made consistently with truth, they are true signi
fications, or significations of truth, tlutt which shall be. If
absolute threatenings are significations of any thing, they
are significations of the futurity of the things threatened.
But if the futurity of the things threatened be not true and
real, then how can the threatening be a true signification ?
And if God, in them, speaks contrary to what he knows,
and contrary to what he intends, how he can speak true is
inconceivable. Absolute threatenings are a kind ot predictions; and
though God is not properly obliged by any claim of ours
to fulfil predictions, unless they are of the nature of pro
mises; yet it certainly would be contrary to truth, to
predict that such a thing would come to pass, which he
knew at the same time would not come to pass. Threat
enings are declarations of something future, and they must
be declarations of future truth, if they are true declara
tions. Its being future alters not the case any more than
if it were present. It is equally contrary to truth, to de
clare contrary to what at the same time is known to be
truth, whether it be of things past, present, or to come ;
for all are alike to God.
Beside, we have often declarations in Scripture of the
future eternal punishment of the wicked, in the proper
form of predictions, and not in the form of threatenings.
So in the text, " These shall go away into everlasting
punishment." So in those frequent assertions of eternal
punishment in the Revelation, some of which I have
already quoted. The Revelation is a prophecy, and is so
called in the book itself; so are those declarations of
eternal punishment. — The like declarations we have also
in many other places of Scripture.
2. The doctrine of those who teach, that it is not cer
tain that God will fulfil those absolute threatenings, is
blasphemous another way ; and that is, a3 God, according
to their supposition, was obliged to make use of a fallacy
to govern the world. They own, that it is needful that
men should apprehend themselves liable to an eternal
punishment, that they might thereby be restrained from
sin, and that God has threatened such a punishment, for
the very end that they might believe themselves exposed to
it. But what an unworthy opinion does this convey of
God and his government, of his infinite majesty, and wis
dom, and all-sufficiency !— Beside, they suppose, that
though God has made use of such a fallacy, yet it is not
such an one but that they have detected him in it. Though
God intended men should believe it to be certain, that
sinners are liable to an eternal punishment; yet they sup
pose, that they have been so cunning as to find out that it
is not certain : and so that God had not laid his design so
deep, but that such cunning men as they can discern the
cheat, and defeat the design : because they have found
out, that there is no necessary connexion between the
threatening of eternal punishment, and the execution of
that threatening.
Considering these things, is it not greatly to be won
dered at, that Archbishop Tillotson, who has made so

Serm. XI.

THE ETERNITY OF HELL TORMENTS.

87

great a figure among the new-fashioned divines, should
advance such an opinion as this ?
Before I conclude this head, it may be proper for me to
answer an objection or two, that may arise in the minds
of some.
1. It may be here said, We have instances wherein God
hath not fulfilled his threatenings ; as his threatening to
Adam, and in him to mankind, that they should surely
die, if they should eat the forbidden fruit. I answer, it is
not true that God did not fulfil that threatening : he ful
filled it, and will fulfil it in every jot and tittle. When
God said, " Thou shalt surely die," if we respect spiritual
death, it was fulfilled in Adam's person in the day that he
ate. For immediately his image, his holy spirit, and
original righteousness, which was the highest and best life
of our first parents, were lost ; and they were immediately
in a doleful state of spiritual death.
If we respect temporal death, that was also fulfilled :
he brought death upon himself and all his posterity, and
he virtually suffered that death on that very day on which
he ate. His body was brought into a corruptible, mortal,
and dying condition, and so it continued till it was dis
solved. If we look at all that death which was compre
hended in the threatening, it was, properly speaking, ful
filled in Christ. When God said to Adam, If thou eatest,
thou shalt die, he spake not only to him, and of him per
sonally ; but the words respected mankind, Adam and his
race, and doubtless were so understood by him. His off
spring were to be looked upon as sinning in him, and so
should die with him. The words do as justly allow of an
imputation of death as of sin; they are as well consistent
with dying in a surety, as with sinning in one. Therefore,
the threatening is fulfilled in the death of Christ, the
surety. 2. Another objection may arise from God's threatening
to Nineveh. He threatened, that in forty days Nineveh
should be destroyed, which yet he did not fulfil. — I an
swer, that threatening could justly be looked upon no
otherwise than as conditional. It was of the nature of a
Warning, and not of an absolute denunciation. Why was
Jonah sent to the Ninevites, but to give them warning,
that they might have opportunity to repent, reform, and
avert the approaching destruction? God had no other
design or end in sending the prophet to them, but that
they might be1 warned and tried by him, as God warned
the Israelites, Judah and Jerusalem, before their destruc
tion. Therefore the prophets, together with their prophe
cies of approaching destruction, joined earnest exhortations
to repent and reform, that it might be averted.
No more could justly be understood to be certainly
threatened, than that Nineveh should be destroyed in forty
days, continuing as it was. For it was for their wicked
ness that that destruction was threatened, and so the Nine
vites took it. Therefore, when the cause was removed,
the effect ceased. It was contrary to God's known man
ner, to threaten punishment and destruction for sin in this
world absolutely, so that it should come upon the persons
threatened unavoidably, let them repent and reform and
do what they would : Jer. xviii. 7, 8. " At what instant I
shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a king
dom, to pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it ; if
that nation against whom I have pronounced turn from
their evil, I will repent ofthe evil that I thought to do unto
them." So that all threatenings of this nature had a con
dition implied in them, according to the known and de
clared manner of God's dealing. And the Ninevites did
not take it as an absolute sentence of denunciation : if
they had, they would have despaired of any benefit by fast
ing and reformation.
' But the threatenings of eternal wrath are positive and
absolute. There is nothing in the word of God from
which we can gather any condition. The only opportu
nity of escaping is in this world ; this is the only state of
trial, wherein we have any offers of mercy, or place for
repentance. IV. I shall mention several good and important ends,
which will be obtained by the eternal punishment of the
wicked. 1 . Hereby God vindicates his injured majesty. Where
in sinners cast contempt upon it, and trample it in the dust,

God vindicates and honours it, and makes it appear, as it
is indeed, infinite, by showing that it is infinitely dreadful
to contemn or offend it.
2. God glorifies his justice. — The glory of God is the
greatest good ; it is that which is the chief end of the
creation ; it is of greater importance than any thing else.
But this is one way wherein God will glorify himself, as
in the eternal destruction of ungodly men he will glorify
his justice.,. Therein he will appear as a just governor of
the world. The vindictive justice of God will appear
strict, exact, awful, and terrible, and therefore glorious.
3. God hereby indirectly glorifies his grace on the vessels
of mercy. — The saints in heaven will behold the torments
of the damned : " the smoke of their torment ascendeth up
for ever and ever." Isaiah lxvi. 24. "And they shall go
forth and look upon the carcasses ofthe men that nave trans
gressed against me : for their worm shall not die, neither
shall their fire be quenched, and they shall be an abhorring
unto all flesh." And in Rev. xiv. 10. it is said, that they
shall be tormented in the presence of the holy angels, and
in the presence of the Lamb. So they will be tormented
in the presence also ofthe glorified saints.
Hereby the saints will be made the more sensible how
great their salvation is. When they shall see how great
the misery is from which God hath saved them, and how
great a difference he hath made between their state, and
the state of others, who were by nature, and perhaps for a
time by practice, no more sinful and ill-deserving than
any, it will give them a greater sense of the wonderfulness
of God's grace to them. Every time they look upon the
damned, it will excite in them a lively and admiring sense
of the grace of God, in making them so to differ. This the
apostle informs us is one end of the damnation of ungodly
men; Rom. ix. 22, 23. " What if God willing to show
his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with
much long-suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruc
tion : and that he might make known the riches of his
glory on the vessels qf mercy, which he had afore prepared
unto glory ?" The view of the misery of the damned will
double the ardour of the love and gratitude of the saints
in heaven.
4. The sight of hell torments will exalt the happiness of
the saints for ever. It will not only make them more
sensible of the greatness and freeness of the grace of God
in their happiness ; but it will really make their happiness
the greater, as it will make them more sensible of their
own happiness ; it will give them a more lively relish of
it; it will make them prize it more. When they see
others, who were of the same nature, and born under the
same circumstances, plunged in such misery, and they so
distinguished, O it will make them sensible how happy
they are. A sense of the opposite misery, in all cases,
greatly increases the relish of any joy or pleasure.
The sight of the wonderful power, the great and dread
ful majesty, and awful justice and holiness of God, mani
fested in the eternal punishment of ungodly men, will
make them prize his favour and love vastly the more ;
and they will be so much the more happy in the enjoy
ment of it. APPLICATION.
1. From what hath been said, we may learn the folly
and madness of the greater part of mankind, in that for the
sake of present momentary gratification, they run the ven
ture of enduring all these eternal torments. They prefer a
small pleasure, or a little wealth, or a little earthly honour
and greatness, which can last but for a moment, to an
escape from this punishment. If it be true that the tor
ments of hell are eternal, what will it profit a man, if he
gain the whole world and lose his own soul ; or what shall
a man give in exchange for his soul ? What is there in
this world, which is not a trifle, and lighter than vanity,
in comparison with these eternal things ?
How mad are men, who so often hear of these things
and pretend to believe them ; who can live but a little
while, a few years ; who do not even expect to live here
longer than others of their species ordinarily do ; and who
yet are careless about what becomes of themselves in
another world, where there is no change and no end !

88

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

How mad are they, when they hear that if they go on in
sin, they shall be eternally miserable, that they are not
moved by it, but hear it with as much carelessness and
coldness as if they were no way concerned in the matter ;
when they know not but that it may be their case, that
they may be suffering these torments before a week is at
an end !
How can men be so careless of such a matter as their
own eternal and desperate destruction and torment ! What
a strange stupor and senselessness possesses the hearts of
men ! How common a thing is it to see men, who are
told from sabbath to sabbath of eternal misery, and who
are as mortal as other men, so careless about it, that they
seem not to be at all restrained by it from whatever their
souls lust after ! It is not half so much their care to escape
eternal misery, as it is to get money and land, and to be
considerable in the world, and to gratify their senses.
Their thoughts are much more exercised about these things,
and much more of their care and concern is about them.
Eternal misery, though they lie every day exposed to it, is
a thing neglected, it is but now and then thought of, and
then with a great deal of stupidity, and not with concern
enough to stir them up to do any thing considerable in
order to escape it. They are not sensible that it is worth
their while to take any considerable pains in order to it.
And if they do take pains for a little while, they soon leave
off, and something else takes up their thoughts and con
cern. Thus you see it among young and old. Multitudes of
youth lead a careless life, taking little care about their
salvation. So you may see it among persons of mid
dle age ; and with many advanced in years, and when they
certainly draw near to the grave. — Yet these same persons
will seem to acknowledge, that the greater part of men go
to hell and suffer eternal misery, and this through careless
ness about it. However, they will do the same. How
strange is it that men can enjoy themselves and be at rest,
when they are thus hanging over eternal burnings ; at the
same time, having no lease of their lives, and not knowing
how soon the thread by which they hang will break, nor
indeed do they pretend to know ; and if it breaks, they
are gone, they are lost for ever, and there is no remedy !
Yet they trouble not themselves much about it ; nor will
they hearken to those who cry to them, and entreat them
to take care for themselves, and labour to get out of that
dangerous condition : they are not willing to take so much
pains : they choose not to be diverted from amusing them
selves with toys and vanities. Thus, well might the wise
man say, Eccles. ix. 3. " The heart of the sons of men
is full of evil. Madness is in their heart while they live ;
and after that they go to the dead." — How much wiser
are those few, who make it their main business to lay a
foundation for eternity, to secure their salvation !
2. I shall improve this subject in a use of exhortation
to sinners, to take care to escape these eternal torments.
If they be eternal, one would think that would be enough
to awaken your concern, and excite your diligence. If
the punishment be eternal, it is infinite, as we said before ;
and therefore no other evil, no death, no temporary torment
that ever you heard of, or that you can imagine, is any
thing in comparison with it, but is as much less and less
considerable, not only as a grain of sand is less than the
whole universe, but as it is less than the boundless space
which encompasses the universe. — Therefore here,
(1.) Be entreated to consider attentively how great and
awful a thing eternity is. Although you cannot compre
hend it the more by considering, yet you may be made
more sensible that it is not a thing to be disregarded. — Do
but consider what it is to suffer extreme torment for ever
and ever ; to suffer it day and night, from one year to
another, from one age to another, and from one thousand
ages to another, and so adding age to age, and thousands
to thousands, in pain, in wailing and lamenting, groaning
and shrieking, and gnashing your teeth ; with your souls
full of dreadful grief and amazement, with your bodies
and every member full of racking torture, without any
possibility of getting ease ; without any possibility of
moving God to pity by your cries ; without any possibility
of hiding yourselves from him ; without any possibility of
diverting your thoughts from your pain ; without any pos

sibility of obtaining any manner of mitigation, or help, or
change for the better.
(2.) Do but consider how dreadful despair will be in
such torment. How dismal will it be, when you are under
these racking torments, to know assuredly that you never,
never shall be delivered from them ; to have no hope :
when you shall wish that you might be turned into nothing,
but shall have no hope of it ; when you shall wish that
you might be turned into a toad or a serpent, but shall
have no hope of it ; when you would rejoice, if you might
hut have any relief, after you shall have endured these tor
ments millions of ages, but shall have no hope of it. After
you shal 1 have worn ou t the age of the sun, moon, and stars,
in your dolorous groans and lamentations, without rest
day and night, or one minute's ease, yet you shall have no
hope of ever being delivered ; after you shall have worn
a thousand more such ages, you shall have no hope, but
shall know that you are not one whit nearer to the end of
your torments ; but that still there are the same groans,
the same shrieks, the same doleful cries, incessatitly to be
made by you, and that the smoke of your torment shal.
still ascend up for ever and ever. Your souls, which shall
have been agitated with the wrath of God all this while,
will still exist to bear more wrath ; your bodies, which
shall have been burning all this while in these glowing
flames, shall not have been consumed, but will remain to
roast through eternity, which will not have been at all
shortened by what shall have been past.
You may by considering make yourselves more sensible
than you ordinarily are ; but it is a little you can conceive
of what it is to have no hope in such torments. How
sinking would it be to you, to endure such pain as you
have felt in this world, without any hopes, and to know
that you never should be delivered from it, nor have one
minute's rest ! You can now scarcely conceive how dole
ful that would be. How much more to endure the vast
weight of the wrath of God without hope ! The more the
damned in hell think of the eternity of their torments, the
more amazing will it appear to them ; and alas ! they will
not be able to keep it out of their minds. Their tortures
will not divert them from it, but will fix their attention to
it. O how dreadful will eternity appear to them after they
shall have been thinking on it for ages together, and shail
have so long an experience of their torments ! The damned
in hell will have two infinites perpetually to amaze them,
and swallow them up : one is an infinite God, whose wrath
they will bear, and in whom they will behold their perfect
and irreconcilable enemy. The other is the infinite
duration of their torment.
If it were possible for the damned in hell to have a
comprehensive knowledge of eternity, their sorrow and grief
would be infinite in degree. The comprehensive view of
so much sorrow, which they must endure, would cause
infinite grief for the present. Though they will not have
a comprehensive knowledge of it, yet they will doubtless
have a vastly more lively and strong apprehension of it
than we can have in this world. Their torments will give
them an impression of it. — A man in his present state,
without any enlargement of his capacity, would have a
vastly more lively impression of eternity than he has, if he
were only under some pretty sharp pain in some member
of his body, and were at the same time assured, that he
must endure that pain for ever. His pain would give him
a greater sense of eternity than other men have. How
much more will those excruciating torments, which the
damned will suffer, have this effect 1
Besides, their capacity will probably be enlarged, their
understandings will be quicker and stronger in a future
state ; and God can give them as great a sense and as strong
an impression of eternity, as he pleases, to increase their
grief and torment.— O be entreated, ye that are in a Christ
less state, and are going on in a way to hell, that are daily
exposed to damnation, to consider these things. If you do
not, it will surely be but a little while before you will ex
perience them, and then you will know how dreadful it is
to despair in hell ; and it may be before this year, or this
month, or this week, is at an end ; before another sab
bath, or ever you shall have opportunity to hear another
sermon .
(3.) That you may effectually escape these dreadful

Serm. XII.

THE PEACE WHICH CHRIST GIVES.

89

and eternal torments, be entreated to flee and embrace him
who came into the world for the very end of saving sinners
from these torments, who has paid the whole debt due to
the divine law, and exhausted eternal in temporal suffer
ings. What great encouragement is it to those of you who
are sensible that you are exposed to eternal punishment,
that there is a Saviour provided, who is able and who freely
offers to save you from that punishment, and that in a way
which is perfectly consistent with the glory of God, yea,
which is more to the glory of God than it would be if you
should suffer the eternal punishment of hell. For if you
should suffer that punishment you would never pay the
whole of the debt. Those who are sent to hell never will
have paid the whole of the debt which they owe to God,
nor indeed a part which bears any proportion lo the whole.

They never will have paid a part which bears so great a
proportion to the whole, as one mite to ten thousand
talents. Justice therefore never can be actually satisfied
in your damnation ; but it is actually satisfied in Christ.
Therefore he is accepted of the Father, and therefore all
who believe are accepted and justified in him. Therefore
believe in him, come to him, commit your souls to him
to be saved by him. In him you shall be safe from the
eternal torments of hell. Nor is that all : but through him
you shall inherit inconceivable blessedness and glory, which
will be of equal duration with the torments of hell. For,
as at the last day the wicked shall go away into everlasting
punishment, so shall the righteous, or those who trust in
Christ, go into life eternal.

SERMON XII.*
THE PEACE WHICH CHRIST GIVES HIS TRUE FOLLOWERS.

John xiv. 27.
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you : not as
the world giveth, give I unto you.
These words are a part of a most affectionate and affect
ing discourse that Christ had with his disciples the same
evening in which he was betrayed, knowing that he was to
be crucified the next day. This discourse begins with the
31st verse of the 13th, and is continued to the end ofthe
16th chapter. Christ began his discourse after he partook
of the passover with them, after he had instituted and ad
ministered the sacrament of the supper, and after Judas
was gone out, and none were left but his true and faithful
disciples ; whom he now addresses as his dear children.
This was the last discourse that Christ had with them be
fore his death. As it was his parting discourse, and, as it
were, his dying discourse, so it is on many accounts the
most remarkable we have recorded in our Bibles.
It is evident this discourse made a deep impression on
the minds of the disciples ; and we may suppose that it
did so, in a special manner, on the mind of John the be
loved disciple, whose heart was especially full of love to
him, and who had just then been leaning on his bosom.
In this discourse Christ had told his dear disciples that
he was going away, which filled them with sorrow and
heaviness. The words of the text are given to comfort
them, and to relieve their sorrow. He supports them with
the promise of that peace which he would leave with them,
and which they would have in him and with him, when he
was gone.
This promise he delivers in three emphatical expressions
which illustrate one another. " Peace I leave with you."
As much as to say, though I am going away, yet I will
not take all comfort away with me. While I have been
with you, I have been your support and comfort, and you
have had peace in me in the midst of the losses you have
sustained, and troubles you have met with from this evil
generation. This peace I will not take from you, but
leave it with you in a more full possession.
" My peace I give unto you." Christ by calling it his
peace signifies two things,
1. That it was his own, that which he had to give. It
was the peculiar benefit that he had to bestow on his
children, now he was about to leave the world as to his
human presence. Silver and gold he had none ; for,
while in his estate of humiliation, he was poor. The
foxes had holes, and the birds of the air had nests ; but
the So" of man had not where to lay his head : Luke ix.
58. He had no earthly estate to leave to his disciples who
were as it were his family : but he had peace to give them.
» Dated, August, 1750.

2. It was his peace that he gave them ; as it was the
same kind of peace which he himself enjoyed. The same
excellent and divine peace which he ever had in God,
and which he was about to receive in his exalted state in
a vastly greater perfection and fulness : for the happiness
Christ gives to his people, is a participation of his own
happiness: agreeable to chapter xv. 11. "These things
have I said unto you, that my joy might remain in you."
And in his prayer with his disciples at the conclusion of
this discourse, chapter xvii. 13. "And now come I to
thee, and these things I speak in the world, that they
might have my joy fulfilled in themselves." And verse
22. " And the glory which thou gavest me, I have given
them." Christ here alludes to men making their wills before
death. When parents are about to leave their children by
death, they are wont in their last will and testament to
give them their estate ; that estate which they themselves
were wont to possess and enjoy. So it was with Christ
when he was about to leave the world, with respect to the
peace which he gave his disciples ; only with this differ
ence, that earthly parents, when they die, though they
leave the same estate to their children which they them
selves heretofore enjoyed ; yet when the children come to
the full possession of it, they enjoy it no more ; the pa
rents do not enjoy it with their children. The time of the
full possession of parents and children is not together.
Whereas with respect to Christ's peace, he did not only
possess it himself before his death, when he bequeathed it
to his disciples ; but also afterwards more fully : so that
they were received to possess it with him.
The third and last expression is, " not as the world
giveth, give I unto you." Which is as much as to say,
my gifts and legacies, now I am going to leave the world,
are not like those which the rich and great men of the
world are wont to leave to their heirs, when they die.
They bequeath to their children their worldly possessions;
and it may be, vast treasures of silver and gold, and some
times an earthly kingdom. But the thing that 1 give you,
is my peace, a vastly different thing from what they are
wont to give, and which cannot be obtained by all that they
can bestow, or their children inherit from them.

DOCTRINE.
That peace which Christ, when he died, left as a legacy
to all his true saints, is very different from all those things
which the men of this world bequeath to their children,
when they die.

90 I. Christ at his death made over the blessings ofthe new
covenant to believers, as it were in a will or testament.
II. A great blessing that Christ made over to believers
in this his testament was his peace.
III. This legacy of Christ is exceedingly diverse from all
that any of the men of this world ever leave to their chil
dren when they die.
I. Christ at his death made over the blessings of the new
covenant to believers, as it were in a will or testament.
The new covenant is represented by the apostle as
Christ's last will and testament. Heb. ix. 15, 16. " And
for this cause he is the Mediator of the New Testament,
that by means of death, for the redemption of the trans
gressions that were under the first testament, they which
are called might receive the promise of eternal inheritance.
For where a testament is, there must also of necessity be
the death of the testator." What men convey by their will
or testament, is their own estate. So Christ in the new
covenant conveys to believers his own inheritance, so far
as they are capable of possessing and enjoying it. They
have that eternal life given lo them in their measure, which
Christ himself possesses. They live in him, and with
him, and by a participation of his life. Because he lives
they live also. They inherit his kingdom : the same king
dom which the Father appointed unto him. Luke xxii.
29. " And I appoint unto you a kingdom, as my Father
hath appointed unto me." They shall reign on his throne,
Rev. iii. 21. They have his glory given to them, John
xvii. And because all things are Christ's, so in Christ all
things are the saints', 1 Cor. iii. 21, 22.
Men in their wills or testaments most commonly give
their estates to their children : so believers are in Scrip
ture represented as Christ's children. Heb. ii. 13. "Be
hold, I, and the children which God hath given me."
Men most commonly make their wills a little before their
death : so Christ did, in a very special and solemn man
ner, make over and confirm to his disciples the blessings
of the new covenant, on the evening before the day of his
crucifixion, in that discourse of which my text is a part.
The promises of the new covenant were never so particu
larly expressed, and so solemnly given forth by Christ in
all the time that he was upon earth, as in this discourse.
Christ promises them mansions in his Father's house,
chapter xvi. 1, 2, 3. Here he promises them whatever
blessings they should need and ask in his name. Chapter
xv. 7. xiv. 23, 24. Here he more solemnly and fully
than any where else, gives forth and confirms the promise
of the Holy Spirit, which is the sum of the blessings of
the covenant of grace. Chap. xiv. 18. xvii. 26. xv. 25.
xvi. 7. Here he promises them his own and his Fa
ther's gracious presence and favour. Chapter xiv. 18.
xix. 20, 21. Here he promises them peace, as in the text.
Here he promises them his joy. Chapterxv.il. Here
he promises grace to bring forth holy fruits. Chapter xv.
16. And victory over the world. Chapter xvi. 33. And
indeed there seems to be no where else so full and com
plete an edition of the covenant of grace in the whole
Bible, as in this dying discourse of Christ with his eleven
true disciples.
This covenant between Christ and his children is like a
will or testament also in this respect, that it becomes
effectual, and a way is made for putting it in execution, no
other way than by his death ; as the apostle observes it is
with a will or testament among men. " For a testament
is offeree after men are dead.' Heb. ix. 17. For though
the covenant of grace indeed was of force before the death
of Christ, yet it was of force no otherwise than by his
death ; so that his death then did virtually intervene ; be
ing already undertaken and engaged. As a man's heirs
come by the legacies bequeathed to them no otherwise
than by the death of the testator, so men come by the
spiritual and eternal inheritance no otherwise than by the
death of Christ. If it had not been for the death of
Christ they never could have obtained it.
II. A great blessing that Christ in his testament hath
bequeathed to his true followers, is his peace. Here are
two things that I would observe particularly, viz. That
Christ hath bequeathed to believers true peace ; and then,
that the peace he has given them is his peace.

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

1. Our Lord Jesus Christ has bequeathed true peace
and comfort to his followers. Christ is called the Prince
of peace. Isa. ix. 6. And when he was born into the
world, the angels on that joyful and wonderful occasion
sang, Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace ; because
of that peace which he should procure for and bestow on
the children of men ; peace with God, and peace one with
another, and tranquillity and peace within themselves;
which last is especially the benefit spoken of in the text.
This Christ has procured for his followers, and laid a
foundation for their enjoyment of it, in that he has pro
cured for them the other two, viz. peace with God, and
one with another. He has procured for them peace and
reconciliation with God, and his favour and friendship; in
that he satisfied for their sins, and laid a foundation for
the perfect removal of the guilt of sin, and the forgiveness
of all their trespasses, and wrought out for them a perfect
and glorious righteousness, most acceptable to God, and
sufficient to recommend them to God's full acceptance, to
the adoption of children, and to the eternal fruits of his
fatherly kindness.
By these means true saints are brought into a state of
freedom from condemnation, and all the curses of the law
of God. Rom. viii. 34. " Who is he that condemneth V
And by these means they are safe from that dreadful and
eternal misery to which naturally they are exposed, and
are set on high out of the reach of all their enemies, so
that the gates of hell and powers of darkness can never
destroy them; nor can wicked men, though they may
persecute, ever hurt them. Rom. viii. 31 . "if God be for
us, who can be against us 1" Numb, xxiii. 8. " How shall
I curse whom God hath not cursed ?" Ver. 23. " There is
no enchantment against Jacob, neither is there any divina
tion against Israel." By these means .they are out of the
reach of death, John vi. 4. — ix. 50, 51. "This is the
bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may
eat thereof and not die." By these means death with re
spect to them has lost its sting, and is no more worthy of
tlie name of death. 1 Cor. xv. 55. " O death, where is
thy sting?" By these means they have no need to be
afraid ofthe day of judgment, when the heavens and earth
shall be dissolved. Psal. xlvi. 1, 2. " God is our refuge
and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore
will not we fear, though the earth be removed : and though
the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea." Yea,
a true saint has reason to be at rest in an assurance, that
nothing can separate him from the love of God. Rom.
viii. 38, 39.
Thus he that is in Christ, is in a safe refuge from every
thing that might disturb him ; Isa. xxxii. 2. " And a man
shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert
from the tempest : as rivers of water in a dry place, as the
shadow of a great rock in a weary land." And hence they
that dwell in Christ have that promise fulfilled to them
which we have in the 18th verse of the same chapter:
" And my people shall dwell in a peaceable habitation,
and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting-places."
And the true followers of Christ have not only ground
of rest and peace of soul, by reason of their safety from
evil, but on account of their sure title and certain enjoy
ment of all that good which theystand in need of, living,
dying, and through all eternity. They are on a sure found
ation for happiness, are built on a rock that can never be
moved, and have a fountain that is sufficient, and can
never be exhausted. The covenant is ordered in all things
and sure, and God has passed his word and oath, " That
by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for
God to lie, we might have strong consolation, who have
fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before us." The
infinite Jehovah is become their God, who can do every
thing for them. He is their portion who has an infinite
fulness of good in himself. " He is their shield and ex
ceeding great reward." As great a good is made over to
them as they can desire or conceive of; and is made as
sure as they can desire : therefore they have reason to put
their hearts at rest, and be at peace in' their minds.
Besides, he has bequeathed peace to the souls of his
people, as he has procured for them and made over to
them the spirit of grace and true holiness ; which has a
natural tendency to the peace and quietness of the soul

Serm. XII.

THE PEACE WHICH CHRIST GIVES.

91

It implies a discovery and relish of a suitable and sufficient
good . It brings a person into a view of divine beauty, and
to a relish of that good which is a man's proper happi
ness ; and so it brings the soul to its true centre. The soul
by his means is brought to rest, and ceases from restlessly
inquiring, as others do, who will show us any good ; and
wandering to and fro, like lost sheep seeking rest, and find
ing none. The soul hath found him who is as the apple-
tree among the trees of the wood, and sits down under his
shadow with great delight, and his fruit is sweet unto his
taste. Cant. ii. 2. And thus that saying of Christ is ful
filled, John iv. 14. " Whoever drinketh of the water that I
shall give him, shall never thirst." And besides, true
grace naturally tends to peace and quietness, as it settles
things in the soul in their due order, sets reason on the
throne, and subjects the senses and affections to its govern
ment, which before were uppermost. Grace tends to tran-
quillityj as it mortifies tumultuous desires and passions,
subdues the eager and insatiable appetites of the sensual
nature and greediness after the vanities of the world. It
mortifies such principles as hatred, variance, emulation,
wrath, enyyings, and the like, which are a continual
source of inward uneasiness and perturbation ; and sup
plies those sweet, calming, and quieting principles of
humility, meekness, resignation, patience, gentleness, for
giveness, and sweet reliance on God. It also tends to
peace, as it fixes the aim of the soul to a certain end ; so
that the soul is no longer distracted and drawn by opposite
ends to be sought, and opposite portions to be obtained,
and many masters of contrary wills and commands to be
served ; but the heart is fixed in die choice of one certain,
sufficient, and unfailing good : and the soul's aim at this,
and hope of it, is like an anchor that keeps it stedfast, that
it should no more be driven to and fro by every wind.
2. This peace which Christ has left as a legacy to his
true followers, is his peace. It is the peace which himself
enjoys. This is what I take to be principally intended in
the expression. It is the peace that he enjoyed while on
earth, in his state of humiliation. Though he was a man
of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, and was every
where hated and persecuted by men and devils, and had
no place of rest in this world ; yet in God, his Father, he
had peace. We read of his rejoicing in spirit, Luke x. 21.
So Christ's true disciples, though in the world they have
tribulation, yet in God have peace.
When Christ had finished his labours and sufferings,
had risen from the dead, and ascended into heaven, he
entered into his rest, a state of most blessed, perfect, and
everlasting peace : delivered by his own sufferings from
our imputed guilt, acquitted and justified ofthe Father on
his resurrection. Having obtained a perfect victory over
all his enemies, he was received of his Father into heaven,
the rest which he had prepared for him, there to enjoy his
heart's desire fully and perfectly to all eternity. And then
were those words in the six first verses of the 21 st Psalm,
which have respect to Christ, fulfilled. This peace and
rest of the Messiah is exceeding glorious. Isa. xi. 10.
" And his rest shall be glorious.' This rest is what Christ
has procured, not only for himself, but also his people, by
his death ; and he has bequeathed it to them, that they
may enjoy it with him, imperfectly in this, and perfectly
and eternally in another, world.
That peace, which has been described, and which be
lievers enjoy, is a participation of the peace which their
glorious Lord and Master himself enjoys, by virtue of the
same blood by which Christ himself has entered into rest.
It is in a participation of this same justification; for be
lievers are justified with Christ. As he was justified when
he rose from the dead, and as he was made free from our
guilt, which he had as our surety, so believers are justified
in him and through him ; as being accepted of God in the
same righteousness. It is in the favour of the same God
and heavenly Father that they enjoy peace. " I ascend to
my Father and your Father, to my God and your God."
It is in a participation of the same Spirit; for believers
have the Spirit of Christ. He had the Spirit given to him
not by measure, and of his fulness do they all receive, and
grace for grace. As the oil poured on the head of Aaron
went down to the skirts of his garments, so the Spirit poured
on Christ, the head, descends to all his members. It is as

partaking of the same grace of the Spirit that believers en^
joy this peace; John i. 16.
It is as being united to Christ, and living by a partici
pation of his life, as a branch lives by the life of the vine.
It is as partaking ofthe same love of God ; John xvii. 26.
'' That the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in
them." — It is as having a part with him in his victory over
the same enemies : and also as having an interest in the
same kind of eternal rest and peace. Eph. ii. 5, 6. " Even
when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together
with Christ, — and hath raised us up together, and hath
made us sit together in heavenly places."
III. This legacy of Christ to his true disciples is very
different from all that the men of this world ever leave to
their children when they die. The men of this world,
many of them, when they come to die, have great estates
to bequeath to their children, an abundance of the good
things of this world, large tracts of ground, perhaps in a
fruitful soil, covered with flocks and herds. They some
times leave to their children stately mansions, and vast
treasures of silver, gold, jewels, and precious things, fetched
from both the Indies, and from every side of the globe.
They leave them wherewith to live in much state and mag
nificence, and make a great show among men, to fare very
sumptuously, and swim in worldly pleasures. Somehave
crowns, sceptres, and palaces, and great monarchies to
leave to their heirs. But none of these things are to be
compared to that blessed peace of Christ which he has be
queathed to his true followers. These things are such as
God commonly in his providence gives his worst enemies,:
those whom he hates and despises most. But Christ's
peace is a precious benefit, which he reserves for his pe
culiar favourites. These worldly things, even the best of
them, that the men and princes of the world leave for their
children, are things which God in his providence throws
out to those whom he looks on as dogs; but Christ's peace
is the bread of his children. All these earthly things are
but empty shadows, which, however men set their hearts
upon them, are not bread, and never can satisfy theirsouls ;
but this peace of Christ is a truly substantial satisfying
food. Isa. Iv. 2. None of those things, if men have them
to the best advantage, and in ever so great abundance, can
give true peace and rest to the soul, as is abundantly mani
fest not only in reason, but experience ; it being found in
all ages, lhat those who have the most of them, have com
monly the least quietness of mind. It is true, there may be
a kind of quietness, a false peace, in the enjoyment of
worldly things ; men may bless their souls, and think
themselves the only happy persons, and despise others :
mav say to their souls, as the rich man did, Luke xii. 19.
" Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years, take
thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." But Christ's peace,
which he gives to his true disciples, differs from this peace
that men may have in the enjoyments of the world, in the
following respects :
1. Christ's peace is a reasonable peace and rest of soul ;
it is what has its foundation in light and knowledge, in the
proper exercises of reason, and a right view of things ;
whereas the peace of the world is founded in blindness and
delusion. The peace that the people of Christ have, arises
from their having their eyes open, and seeing things as they
are. The more they consider, and the more they know of
the truth and reality of things — the more they know what
is true concerning themselves, the state and condition they
are in ; the more they know of God, and what manner of
being he is ; the more certain they are of another world and
future judgment, and of the truth of God's threatenings
and promises ; the more their consciences are awakened
and enlightened, and the brighter and the more searching
the light — the more is their peace established. Whereas,
on the contrary, the peace that the men of the world have
in their worldly enjoyments can subsist no otherwise than
by their being kept in ignorance. They must be blind
folded and deceived, otherwise they can have no peace :
do but let light in upon their consciences, so that they may
look about them and see what they are, and what circum
stances they are in, and it will at once destroy all their
quietness and comfort. Their peace can live no where
but in the dark. Light turns their ease into torment. The
more they know what is true concerning God and concern-

92

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

ing themselves, the more they are sensible of the truth
concerning those enjoyments which they possess ; and the
more they are sensible what things now are, and what
things are like to be hereafter, the more will their calm be
turned into a storm. The worldly man's peace cannot be
maintained but by avoiding consideration and reflection.
If he allows himself to think, and properly to exercise his
reason, it destroys his quietness and comfort. If he would
establish his carnal peace, it concerns him to put out the
light of his mind, and turn beast as fast as he can. The
faculty of reason, if at liberty, proves a mortal enemy to his
peace. It concerns him, if he would keep alive his peace,
to stupify his mind and deceive himself, and to imagine
things to be otherwise than they are. But with respect to
the peace which Christ gives, reason is its great friend.
The more this faculty is exercised, the more it is establish
ed. The more they consider and view things with truth
and exactness, the firmer is their comfort and the higher
their joy. How vast a difference then is there between
the peace of a Christian and the worldling ! How miserable
are they who cannot enjoy peace any otherwise than by
hiding their eyes from the light, and confining themselves
to darkness. Their peace is stupidity ; it is as the ease
that a man has who has taken a dose of stupifying poison,
the ease and pleasure that a drunkard may have in a house
on fire over his head, or the joy of a distracted man in
thinking that he is a king, though a miserable wretch con
fined in bedlam ! Whereas the peace that Christ gives his
true disciples is the light of life, something of the tranquillity
of heaven, the peace of the celestial paradise that has the
glory of God to lighten it.
2. Christ's peace is a virtuous and holy peace. The
peace that the men ofthe world enjoy is vicious: it is vile,
depraves and debases the mind, and makes men brutish.
But the peace that the saints enjoy in Christ, is not only
their comfort, but it is a part of their beauty and dignity.
Thechristian tranquillity, rest, and joy of real saints, are not
only unspeakable privileges, but they are virtues and graces
of God's Spirit, wherein his image partly consists. This
peace has its source in those principles which are in the
highest degree virtuous and amiable, such as poverty of
spirit, holy resignation, trust in God, divine love, meek
ness, and charity ; the exercise of the blessed fruits of
the Spirit, Gal. v. 22, 23.
3. This peace greatly differs from that which is enjoyed
by the men of the world, with regard to its exquisite
sweetness. It is a peace so much above all that natural
men enjoy in worldly things, that it surpasses their under
standing and conception. Phil. iv. 7. It is exquisitely
sweet and secure, because it has so firm a foundation, the
everlasting rock that never can be moved ; because per
fectly agreeable to reason ; because it rises from holy and
divine principles, that, as they are the virtue, so are they
the proper happiness of men ; and because the greatness of
the objective good that the saints enjoy, is no other than
the infinite bounty and fulness of that God who is the
fountain of all good. The fulness and perfection of that
provision that is made in Christ and the new covenant, is
a foundation laid for the saints' perfect peace ; and this
hereafter they shall actually enjoy. And though their
peace is not now perfect, it is not owing to any defect in
the provision made, but to their own imperfection, sin, and
darkness. As yet, they partly cleave to the world, and
seek peace from thence, and do not perfectly cleave to
Christ. But the more they do so, and the more they see
of the provision made, and accept of it, and cleave to that
alone, the nearer are they brought to perfect tranquillity.
Isa. xxvi. 5.
4. The peace of the Christian infinitely differs from that
of the worldling, in that it is unfailing and eternal. That
peace which carnal men have in the things of the world,
is, according to the foundation upon which it is built, of
short continuance ; like the comfort of a dream, 1 John
ii. 1 Cor. vii. 31 . These things, the best and most durable
of them, are like bubbles on the face of the water ; they
vanish in a moment. Hos. x. 7. — But the foundation of
the Christian's peace is everlasting ; it is what no time, no
change, can destroy. It will remain when the body dies :
it wili remain when the mountains depart and the hills
shall be removed, and when the heavens shall be rolled

together as a scroll. The fountain of his comfort shall
never be diminished, and the stream shall never be dried.
His comfort and joy is a living spring in the soul, a well
of water springing up to everlasting life.

APPLICATION.
The use that I would make of this doctrine, is to im
prove it as an inducement unto all to forsake the world,
no longer seeking peace and rest in its vanities, and to
cleave to Christ and follow him. Happiness and rest are
what all men pursue. But the things of the world, where
in most men seek it, can never afford it ; they are labour
ing and spending themselves in vain. But Christ invites
you to come to him, and offers you this peace, which he
gives his true followers, and that so much excels all that
the world can afford, Isa. Iv. 2, 3.
You that have hitherto spent your time in the pursuit of
satisfaction in the profit or glory of the world, or in the
pleasures and vanities of youth, have this day an offer of
that excellent and everlasting peace and blessedness, which
Christ has purchased with the price of his own blood. As
long as you continue to reject those offers and invitations
of Christ, and continue in a Christless condition, you never
will enjoy any true peace or comfort ; but will be like the
prodigal, that in vain endeavoured to be satisfied with the
husks that the swine did eat. The wrath of God will abide
upon, and misery will attend you, wherever you go, which
you never will be able to escape. Christ gives peace to
the most sinful and miserable that come to him. He heals
the broken in heart and bindeth up their wounds. But it
is impossible that they should have peace, while they con
tinue in their sins. Isaiah lvii. 19, 20, 21. There is no
peace between God and them ; for, as they have the guilt
of sin remaining in their souls, and are under its dominion,
so God's indignation continually burns against them, and
therefore they travail in pain all their days. While you
continue in such a state, you live in dreadful uncertainty
what will become of you, and in continual danger. When
you are in the enjoyment of things most pleasing to you,
where your heart is best suited, and most cheerful, yet you
are in a state of condemnation. You hang over the infer
nal pit, with the sword of divine vengeance hanging over
your head, having no security one moment from utter and
remediless destruction. What reasonable peace can any
one enjoy in such a state as this. What though you clothe
him in gorgeous apparel, or set him on a throne, or at a
prince's table, and feed him with the rarest dainties the
earth affords ? How miserable is the ease and cheerful
ness that such have ! what a poor kind of comfort and joy
is it that such take in their wealth and pleasures for a
moment, while they are the prisoners of divine justice, and
wretched captives of the devil ! They have none to be
friend them, being without Christ, aiiens from the com
monwealth of Israel, strangers from the covenant of pro
mise, having ho hope, and without God in the world !
I invite you now to a better portion. There are better
things provided for the sinful, miserable children of men.
There is a surer comfort and more durable peace : com
fort that you may enjoy in a state of safety, and on a sure
foundation: a peace and rest that you ' may enjoy witlw
reason, and with your eyes open. You may have all your|
sins forgiven, your greatest and most aggravated trans- '
gressions blotted out as a cloud, and buried as in the
depths of the sea, that they may never be found more.
And being not only forgiven, but accepted to favour, you
become the objects of God's, complacency and delight;
being taken into God's family and made his children, you
may have good evidence that your names were written on
the heart of Christ before the world was made, and that
you have an interest in that covenant of grace that is well
ordered in all things and sure ; wherein is promised no
less than life and immortality, an inheritance incorruptible
and undefiled, a crown of glory that fades not away.
Being in such circumstances, nothing shall be able to pre
vent your being happy to all eternity ; having for the
foundation of your hope, that love of God which is from
eternity to eternity ; and his promise and oath, and his
omnipotent power, things infinitely firmer than mountains

Serm. XIII.

THE PERPETUITY OF THE SABBATH.

93

of brass. The mountains shall depart, and the hills be
removed, yea, the heavens shall vanish away like smoke,
and the earth shall wax old like a garment, yet these things
will never be abolished.
In such a state as this you will have a foundation of
peace and rest through all changes, and in times of the
greatest uproar and outward calamity be defended from
all storms, and dwell above the floods ; Psalm xxxii. 6, 7.
And you shall be at peace with every thing, and God will
make all his creatures throughout all parts of his dominion,
to befriend you ; Job v. 19 — 24. You need not be afraid
of any thing that your enemies can do unto you, Psal. iii.
5, 6. Those things that now are most terrible to you, viz.
death, judgment, and eternity, will then be most comfort
able, the most sweet and pleasant objects of your contem
plation, at least there will be reason that they should be so.

Hearken therefore to the friendly counsel that is given you
this day, turn your feet into the way of peace, forsake
the foolish and live ; forsake those things which are no
other than the devil's baits, and seek after this excellent
peace and rest of Jesus Christ, that peace of God which
passeth all understanding. Taste and see ; never was any
disappointed that made a trial. Prov. xxiv. 13, 14. You
will not only find those spiritual comforts that Christ offers
you to be of a surpassing sweetness for the present, but
they will be to your soul as the dawning light that shines
more and more to the perfect day ; and the issue of all
will be your arrival in heaven, that land of rest, those
regions of everlasting joy, where your peace and happiness
will be perfect, without the least mixture of trouble or
affliction, and never be interrupted nor have an end.

SERMON XIII.*
THE PERPETUITY AND CHANGE OF THE SABBATH.

1 Cor. xvi. 1,2.
Now concerning tlie collection for the saints, as I have
given order to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye.
Upon the first day qf the week, let every one qf you lay
by him in store, as God hath prospered him, that there be
no gatherings when I come.
We find in the New Testament often mentioned a cer
tain collection, which was made by the Grecian churches,
for the brethren in Judea, who were reduced to pinching
want by a dearth which then prevailed, and was the heavier
upon them by reason of their circumstances, they having
been from the beginning oppressed and persecuted by the
unbelieving Jews. This collection or contribution is twice
mentioned in the Acts, chap. xi. 28—30. and xxiv. 17.
It is also noticed in several of the epistles ; as Rom. xv.
26. and Gal. ii. 10. But it is most largely insisted on, in
these two epistles to the Corinthians ; in this first, epistle,
chap. xvi. and in the second epistle, chap. viii. and ix. —
The apostle begins the directions, which in this place he
delivers concerning this matter, with the words of the text ;
— wherein we may observe,
1 . What is the thing to be done concerning which the
apostle gives them direction,— the exercise and manifest
ation of their charity towards their brethren, by communi
cating to them, for the supply of their wants ; which was
by Christ and his apostles often insisted on, as one main
duty of the christian religion, and is expressly declared to
be so by the apostle James, chap. i. 27. " Pure religion
and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit
the fatherless and widows in their affliction."
2. We may observe the time on which the apostle directs
that this should be done, viz. " on the first day of the
week." By the inspiration of the Holy Ghost he insists
' upon it, that it be done on such a particular day of the
week, as if no other day would do so well as that, or were
so proper and fit a time for such a work.— <Thus, although
the inspired apostle was not for making that distinction of
days in gospel times, which the Jews made, as appears by
Gal. iv. 10. " Ye observe days, and months, &c. yet,
here he gives the preference to one day of the week, before
any other, for the performance of a certain great duty of
Christianity. 3. It may be observed, that the apostle had given to
other churches, that were concerned in the same duty, to
do it on the first day of the week : " As I have given
oraers to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye." Whence
we may learn, that it was nothing peculiar in the circum
stances of the Christians at Corinth, which was the reason
» Not dated.

why the Holy Ghost insisted that they should perform this
duty on this day of the week. Tlie apostle had given the
like orders to the churches of Galatia.
Now Galatia was far distant from Corinth; the sea
parted them, and there were several other countries between
them. Therefore it cannot be thought that the Holy Ghost
directs them to this time upon any secular account, having
respect to some particular circumstances of the people in
that city, but upon a religious account. In giving the
preference to this day for such work, before any other day,
he has respect to something which reached all Christians
throughout the wide world.
And by other passages of the New Testament, we learn
that the case was the same as to other exercises of religion ;
and that the first day of the week was preferred before any
otlier day, in churches immediately under the care of the
apostles, for an attendance on the exercises of religion in
general. Acts xx. 7. " Upon the first day of the week,
when the disciples came together to break bread, Paul
E reached unto them." — It seems by these things to have
een among the primitive Christians in the apostles' days,
with respect to the first day of the week, as it was among
the Jews, with respect to the seventh.
We are taught by Christ, that the doing of alms and
showing of mercy are proper works for the sabbath-day.
When the Pharisees found fault with Christ for suffering
his disciples to pluck the ears of corn, and eat on the
sabbath, Christ corrects them with that saying, " I will
have mercy and not sacrifice ;" Matt. xii. 7. And Christ
teaches that works of mercy are proper to be done on the
sabbath, Luke xiii. 15, 16. and xiv. 5. — These works used
to be done on sacred festivals and days of rejoicing, under
the Old Testament, as in Nehemiah's and Esther s time ;
Neh. viii. 10. and Esth. ix. 19, 22. — And Josephus and
Philo, two very noted Jews, who wrote not long after
Christ's time, give an account that it was the manner among
the Jews on the sabbath, to make collections for sacred
and pious uses. DOCTRINE.
It is the mind and will of God, that the first day of the
week should be especially set apart among Christians, for
religious exercises and duties.
That this is the doctrine which the Holy Ghost intended
to teach us, by this and some other passages of the New
Testament, I hope will appear plainly by the sequel. This
is a doctrine that we have been generally brought up in by
the instructions and examples of our ancestors ; and it has
been the general profession of the christian world, that

94

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

this day ought to be religiously observed and distinguished
from other days of the week. However, some deny it.
Some refuse to take notice of the day, as different from
other days. Others own, that it is a laudable custom of
the christian church, into which she fell by agreement, and
by appointment of her ordinary rulers, to set apart this
day for public worship. But they deny any other original
to such an observation of the day, than prudential human
appointment. — Others religiously observe 'the Jewish
sabbath, as of perpetual obligation, and that we want a
foundation for determining that that is abrogated, and an
other day of the week is appointed in the room of the
seventh. All these classes of men say, that there is no clear
revelation that it is the mind and will of God, that the first
day of the week should be observed as a day to be set
apart for religious exercises, in the room of the ancient
sabbath ; which there ought to be in order to the observa
tion of it by the christian church, as a divine institution.
They say, that we ought not to go upon the tradition of
past ages, or upon uncertain and far-fetched inferences from
some passages of the history of the New Testament, or
upon some obscure and uncertain hints in the apostolic
writings ; but that we ought to expect a plain institution ;
which, they say, we may conclude God would have given
us, if he had designed that the whole christian church, in
all ages, should observe another day of the week for a
holy sabbath, than that which was appointed of old by
plain and positive institution.
So far it is undoubtedly true, that if this be the mind
and will of God, he hath not left the matter to human
tradition ; but hath so revealed his mind about it, in his
word, that there is to be found good and substantial evi
dence that it is his mind : and doubtless, the revelation is
plain enough for them that have ears to hear ; that is, for
them that will justly exercise their understandings about
what God says to them. No Christian, therefore, should
rest till he has satisfactorily discovered the mind of God
p this matter. If the christian sabbath be of divine
institution, it is doubtless of great importance to religion
that it be well kept ; and therefore, that every Christian be
well acquainted with the institution.
If men take it only upon trust, and keep the first day of
the week because their parents taught them so, or because
they see others do it, they will never be likely to keep it so
conscientiously and strictly, as if they had been convinced
by seeing for themselves, that there are good grounds in
the word of God for their practice. Unless they do see
thus for themselves, whenever they are negligent in sancti
fying the sabbath, or are guilty of profaning it, their con
sciences will not have that advantage to smite them for it,
as otherwise they would. — And those who have a sincere
desire to obey God in all things, will keep the sabbath
more carefully and more cheerfully, if they have seen and
been convinced that therein they "do what is according to
the will and command of God, and what is acceptable to
him ; and will also have a great deal more comfort in the
reflection upon their having carefully and painfully kept
the sabbath.
Therefore, I design now, by the help of God, to show,
that it is sufficiently revealed in the Scriptures, to be the
mind and will of God, that the first day of the week
should be distinguished in the christian church from other
days of the week, as a sabbath, to be devoted to religious
exercises. In order to this, I shall here premise, that the mind and
will of God, concerning any duty to be performed by us,
may be sufficiently revealed in his word, without a parti
cular precept in so many express terms, enjoining it. The
human understanding is the ear to which the word of God
is spoken; and if it be so spoken, that that ear may
plainly hear it, it is enough. God is sovereign as to the
manner of speaking his mind, whether he wili speak it in
express terms, or whether he will speak it by saying
several other things which imply it, and from which we
may, by comparing them together, plainly perceive it. If
the mind of God be but revealed, it there be but sufficient
means for the communication of his mind to our minds,
that is sufficient; whether we hear so many express words
with our ears, or see them in writing with our eyes ; or

whether we see the thing that he would signify to us, by
the eye of reason and understanding.
Who can positively say, that if it had been the mind of
God, that we should keep the first day of the week, he
would have commanded it in express terms, as he did the
observation of the seventh day of old ? Indeed, if God
had so made our faculties, that we were not capable of
receiving a revelation of his mind in any other way ; then
there would have been some reason to say so. But God
hath given us such understandings, that we are capable of
receiving a revelation, when made in another manner.
And if God deals with us agreeably to our natures, and in
a way suitable to our capacities, it is enough. If God
discovers his mind in any way whatsoever, provided it he
according to our faculties, we are obliged to obedience ;
and God may expect our notice and observance of his
revelation, in the same manner as if he had revealed it in
express terms.
T shall speak upon this subject under these two general
propositions. 1 . It is sufficiently clear, that it is the mind of God,
that one day of the week should be devoted to rest, and to
religious exercises, throughout all ages and nations.
2. It is sufficiently clear, that under the gospel-dis
pensation, this day is the first day of the week.
I. Prop. It is sufficiently clear, that it is the mind of
God, that one day of the week should be devoted to rest,
and to religious exercises, throughout all ages and nations ;
and not only among the ancient Israelites, till Christ
came, but even in these gospel times, and among all
nations professing Christianity.
1 . From the consideration of the nature and state of
mankind in this world, it is most consonant to human
reason, that certain fixed parts of time should be set apart,
to be spent by the church wholly in religious exercises,
and in the duties of divine worship. It is a duty incum
bent on all mankind, in all ages alike, to worship and serve
God. His service should be our great business. It
becomes us to worship him with the greatest devotion and
engagedness of mind ; and therefore to put ourselves, at
proper times, in such circumstances, as will most contrt.
bute to render our minds entirely devoted to this work,
without being diverted or interrupted by other things.
The state of mankind in this world is such, that we are
called to concern ourselves in secular business and
affairs, which will necessarily, in a considerable degree,
take up the thoughts and engage the attention ofthe
mind. However some particular persons may be in cir
cumstances more free and disengaged ; yet the state of
mankind is such, that the bulk of them, in all ages and
nations, are called ordinarily to exercise their thoughts
about secular affairs, and to follow worldly' business,
which, in its own nature, is remote from the solemn duties
of religion.
It is therefore most meet and suitable, that certain
times should be set apart, upon which men should be
required to throw by all other concerns, that their minds
may be the more freely and entirely engaged in spiritual
exercises, in the duties of religion, and m the immediate
worship of God ; and that their minds being disengaged
from common concerns, their religion may not be mixed
with them.
It is also suitable that these times should be fixed and
settled, that the church may agree therein, and that they
should be the same for all, that men may not interrupt
one another ; but may rather assist one another by mutual
example : for example has a great influence in such cases.
If there be a time set apart for public rejoicing, and there
be a general manifestation of joy, the general example
seems to inspire men with a spirit of joy ; one kindles
another. So, if it be a time of mourning, and there be
general appearances and manifestations of sorrow, it natu
rally affects the mind, it disposes it to depression, it casts
a gloom upon it, and does as it were dull and deaden the
spirits.— So, if a certain time be set apart as holy time, for
general devotion, and solemn religious exercises, a general
example tends to render the spirit serious and solemn.
2. Without doubt, one proportion of time is better and

Serm. XIII.

THE PERPETUITY OF THE SABBATH.

95

fitter than another for this purpose. One proportion is
more suitable to the state of mankind, and will have a
greater tendency to answer the ends of such times, than
another. The times may be too far asunder. I think
human reason is sufficient to discover, that it would be too
seldom for the purposes of such solemn times, that they
should be but once a year. So, I conclude, nobody will
deny, but that such times may be too near together to
agree with the state and necessary affairs of mankind.
Therefore, there can be no difficulty in allowing, that
some certain proportion of time, whether we can exactly
discover it or not, is really fittest and best — considering
the end for which such times are kept, and the condition,
circumstances, and necessary affairs of men ; and consider
ing what the state of man is, taking one age and nation
with another — more convenient and suitable than any
Other ; which God may know and exactly determine,
though we, by reason of the scantiness of our under
standings, cannot.
As a certain frequency of the returns of these tames may
be more suitable than any other, so one length or con
tinuance of the times themselves may be fitter than
another, to answer the purposes of such times. If such
times, when they come, were to last but an hour, it would
not well answer the end ; for then worldly things would
crowd too nearly upon sacred exercises, and there would
not be that opportunity to get the mind so thoroughly free
and disengaged from other, things, as there would be if
the times were longer. Being so short, sacred and profane
things would be as it were mixed together. Therefore, a
certain distance between these times, and a certain con
tinuance of them when they come, is more proper than
others ; which God knows and is able to determine, though
perhaps we cannot.
3. It is unreasonable to suppose any other, than that
God's working six days, and resting the seventh, and
blessing and hallowing it, was to be of general use in
determining this matter, and that it was written, that the
practice of mankind in general might some way or other
be regulated by it. What could be the meaning of God's
resting the seventh day, and hallowing and blessing it,
which he did, before the giving of the fourth command
ment, unless he hallowed and blessed it with respect to
mankind ? For he did riot bless and sanctify it with
respect to himself, or that he within himself might observe
it : as that is most absurd. And it is unreasonable to
suppose that he hallowed it only with respect to the Jews,
a particular nation, which rose up above two thousand
years after.
So much therefore must be intended by it, that it was
his mind, that mankind should, after his example, work
six days, and then rest, and hallow or sanctify the next
following ; and that they should sanctify every seventh
day, or that the space between rest and rest, one hallowed
time and another, among his creatures here upon earth,
should be six days. — So that it hence appears to be the
mind and will of God, that not only the Jews, but men in
all nations and ages, should sanctify one day in seven :
which is the thing we are endeavouring to prove.
4. The mind of God in this matter is clearly revealed
in the fourth commandment. The will of God is there
revealed, not only that the Israelitish nation, but that all
nations, should keep every seventh day holy ; or, which is
the same thing, one day after every sixth. This command,
as well as the rest, is doubtless everlasting and of perpetual
obligation, at least, as to the substance of it, as is intimated
by its being engraven on the tables of stone. Nor is it to
be thought that Christ ever abolished any command of the
ten ; but that there is the complete number ten yet, and
will be to the end of the world.
Some say, that the fourth command is perpetual, but
not in its literal sense ; not as designing any particular
proportion of time to be set apart and devoted to literal
rest and religious exercises. They say, that it stands in
force only in a mystical sense, viz. as that weekly rest of
the Jews typified spiritual rest in the christian church ;
and that we under the gospel are not to make any distinc
tion of one day from another, but are to keep all time holy,
doing every thing in a spiritual manner.
But this is an absurd way of interpreting the command,

as it refers to Christians. For if the command be so far
abolished, it is entirely abolished. For it is the verv design
of the command, to fix the time of worship. The first
command fixes the object, the second the means, the third
the manner, the fourth the time. And, if it stands in
force now only as signifying a spiritual, christian rest,
and holy behaviour at all times, it doth not remain as one
of the ten commands, but as a summary of all the com
mands. The main objection against the perpetuity of this com
mand is, that the duty required is not moral. Those laws
whose obligation arises from the nature of things, and from
the general state and nature of mankind, as well as from
God's positive revealed will, are called moral laws.
Others, whose obligation depends merely upon God's
positive and arbitrary institution, are not moral ; such as
the ceremonial laws, and the precepts of the gospel, about
the two sacraments. Now, the objectors say, they will
allow all that is moral in the decalogue to be of perpetual
obligation ; but this command, they say, is not moral.
But this objection is weak and insufficient for the
purpose for which it is brought, or to prove that the fourth
command, as to the substance of it, is not of perpetual
obligation. For,
(1.) If it should be allowed that there is no morality
belonging to the command, and lhat the duty required is
founded merely on arbitrary institution, it cannot therefore
be certainly concluded that the command is not perpetual.
We know that there may be commands in force under
the gospel, and to the end of the world, which are not
moral : such are the institutions of the two sacraments.
And why may there not be positive commands in force in
all ages of the church? If positive, arbitrary institutions
are in force in gospel-times, what is there which concludes
that no positive precept given before the times of the gospel
can yet continue in force? But,
(2.) As we have observed already, the thing in general,
that there should be certain fixed parts of time set apart
to be devoted to religious exercises, is founded in the fit
ness of the thing, arising from the nature of things, and
the nature and universal state of mankind. Therefore,
there is as much reason that there should be a command
of perpetual and universal obligation about,this, as about
any other duty whatsoever. For if the thing in general,
that there be a time fixed, be founded in the nature of
things, there is consequent upon it a necessity, that the
time be limited by a command ; for there must be a pro
portion of time fixed,, or else the general moral duty cannot
be observed.
(3.) The particular determination of the proportion of
time in the fourth commandment, is also founded in the
nature of things, only our understandings are not sufficient
absolutely to determine it of themselves. We have ob
served already, that without doubt one proportion of time
is in itself fitter than another, and a certain continuance
of time fitter than any other, considering the universal state
and nature of mankind, which God may see, though our
understandings are not perfect enough absolutely to deter
mine it. So that the difference between this command and
others, doth not lie in this, that other commands are found
ed in the fitness of the things themselves, arising from the
universal state and nature of mankind, and this not ; but,
only that the fitness of other commands is more obvious
to the understandings of men, and they might have seen
it of themselves ; but this could not be precisely discovered
and positively determined without the assistance of reve
lation. So that the command of God, that every seventh day
should be devoted to religious exercises, is founded in the
universal state and nature of mankind, as well as other
commands ; only man's reason is not sufficient, without
divine direction, so exactly to determine it : though per
haps man's reason is sufficient to determine, that it ought
not to be much seldomer, nor much oftener, than once in
seven days.
5. God appears in his word laying abundantly more
weight on this precept concerning the sabbath, than on any
precept of the ceremonial law. It is in the decalogue, one
of the ten commands, which were delivered by God with
an audible voice. It was written with his own finger on

96

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

the tables of stone in the mount, and was appointed after
wards to be written on the tables which Moses made.
The keeping of the weekly sabbath is spoken of by the
prophets, as that wherein consists a great part of holiness
of life ; and is inserted among moral duties, Isa. lviii. 13,
14. " If thou turn away thy foot from the sabbath, from
doing thy pleasure on my holy day ; and call the sabbath
a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable; and shalt
honour him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine
own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words : then shalt
thou delight thyself in the Lord ; and I will cause thee to
ride upon the high places of the earth, and feed thee with
the heritage of Jacob thy father : for the mouth of the
Lord hath spoken it."
6. It is foretold, that this command should be observed
in gospel-times ; as in Isaiah lvi. at the beginning, where
the due observance of the sabbath is spoken of as a great
fart of holiness of life, and is placed among moral duties.
t is also mentioned as a duty that should be most accept
able to God from his people, even where the prophet is
speaking of gospel-times ; as in the foregoing chapter, and
in the first verse of this chapter. And, in the third and
fourth verses, the prophet is speaking of the abolition of
the ceremonial law in gospel-times, and particularly of that
law, which forbids eunuchs to come info the congregation
of the Lord. Yet, here the man is pronounced blessed,
who keeps the sabbath from polluting it, ver. 2. And
even in the very sentence where the eunuchs are spoken of
as being free from the ceremonial law, they are spoken of
as being yet under obligation to keep the sabbath, and
actually keeping it, as that which God lays great weight
upon : " For thus saith the Lord, unto the eunuchs that
keep my sabbaths, and choose the things that please me,

and take hold of my covenant ; Even unto them will I
give in mine house, and within my walls, a place and a
name better than of sons and of daughters : I will give
them an everlasting name, lhat shall not be cut off."
Besides, the strangers spoken of in the sixth and seventh
verses, are the Gentiles, that should be called in the
times of the gospel, as is evident by the last clause in the
seventh, and by the eighth verse : " For mine house
shall be called an house of prayer for all people. The
Lord God, which gathereth the outcasts of Israel, saith,
Yet will I gather others to him, besides those that are
gathered unto him." Yet it is represented here as their
duty to keep the sabbath : " Also the sons of the stranger,.
that join themselves to the Lord, to serve him, and to love>
the name of the Lord, to be his servants, every one that
keepeth the sabbath from polluting it, and taketh hold of
my covenant; even them will I bring to my holy mountain,.
and make them joyful in my house of prayer."
7. A further argument for the perpetuity of the sab-;
bath, we have in Matt. xxiv. 20. "Pray ye that your
flight be not in the winter, neither on the sabbath-day."
Christ is here speaking of the flight of the apostles and
other Christians out of Jerusalem and Judea, just before
their final destruction, as is manifest by the whole context,
and especially by the 16th verse : " Then let them which
be in Judea flee into the mountains." But this final
destruction of Jerusalem was after the dissolution of the
Jewish constitution, and after the Christian dispensation
was fully set up. Yet, it is plainly implied in these words
of our Lord, that even then Christians were bound to a
strict observation ofthe sabbath.
Thus I have shown, that it is the will of God, that every
seventh day be devoted to rest and to religious exercises.

SERMON XIV.
THE PERPETUITY AND CHANGE OF THE SABBATH.

1 Cor. xvi. 1, 2.
Now concerning the collect ion for the saints, as I have given
order to the churches qf Galatia, even so do ye. Upon
the first day qf the week, let every one of you lay by
him in store, as God hath prospered him, that there be
no gatherings when I come.
The doctrine founded on these words was this, that it
is the mind and will of God, that the first day of the week
should be especially set apart among Christians for reli
gious exercises and duties.
I proposed to discourse upon this doctrine under two
propositions ; and having already, under the first, endea
voured to prove, That one day of the week is, throughout
all ages, to be devoted to religious exercises ; I proceed
now to the
II. Prop. That it is the will of God, that under the
gospel dispensation, or in the christian church, this day
should be the first day of the week.
In order to the confirmation of this, let the following
things be considered.
1. The words of the fourth commandment afford no
objection against this being the day that should be the
sabbath, any more than against any other day. That this
day, which, according to the Jewish reckoning, is the first
of the week, should be kept as a sabbath, is no more op
posite to any sentence or word of the fourth command,
than that the seventh of the week should be the day. The
words of the fourth command do not determine which
day of the week we should keep as a sabbath ; they merely
determine, that we should rest and keep as a sabbath every
seventh day, or one day after every six. It says, " Six
days thou shalt labour, and the seventh thou shalt rest ;"

which implies no more, than that after six days of labour,
we shall, upon the next to the sixth, rest and keep it holy.
And this we are obliged to do for ever. But the words
no way determine where those six days shall begin, and
so where the rest or sabbath shall fall. There is no di
rection in the fourth command how to reckon the time,
i. e. where to begin and end it ; but that is supposed to
be determined otherwise.
The Jews did not know, by the fourth command, where
to begin their six days, and on which particular day to
rest; this was determined by another precept. The fourth
command does indeed suppose a particular day appoint
ed ; but it does not appoint any. It requires us to rest and
keep holy a seventh day, one after every six of labour,
which particular day God either had or should appoint.
The particular day was determined for that nation in an
other place, viz. in Exod. xvi. 23, 25, 26. " And he said
unto them, this is that which the Lord hath said, To-mor
row is the rest of the holy sabbath unto the Lord : bake-
that which ye will bake, to-day, and seethe that ye will
seethe; and that which remaineth over, lay up for you to
be kept until the morning. And Moses said, Eat that to
day ; for to-day is a sabbath unto the Lord : to-day ye-
shall not find it in the field. Six days ye shall gather it ;
but on the seventh day, which is the sabbath, in it there
shall be none." This is the first place where we have any
mention made of the sabbath, from the first sabbath oh
which God rested.
It seems lhat the Israelites, in the time of their bondage
in Egypt, had lost the true reckoning of time by the days
of the week, reckoning from the first day of the creation.
They were slaves, and in cruel bondage, and had in a great
measure forgotten the true religion : for we are told, that
they served the gods of Egypt. And it is not to be sup-

Serm. XIV.

THE CHANGE OF THE SABBATH.

97

posed, that the Egyptians would suffer their slaves to rest
from their work every seventh day. Now, they having
remained in bondage for so long a time, had probably lost
the weekly reckoning ; therefore, when God had brought
them out of Egypt into the wilderness, he made known to
them the sabbath, on the occasion and in the manner
recorded in the text just now quoted. Hence, we read in
Nehemiah, that when God had led the children of Israel
out of Egypt, &c. he made known unto them his holy
sabbath ; Neh. ix. 14. " And madest known unto them
thy holy sabbath." To the same effect, we read in Ezek.
xx. 10, 12. " Wherefore I caused them to go forth out of
the land of Egypt, and brought ihem into the wilderness.
Moreover also, I gave them mv sabbaths."
But they never would have known where the particular
day would have fallen by the fourth command. Indeed,
the fourth command, as it was spoken to the Jews, did
refer to their Jewish sabbath. But that doth not prove,
that the day was determined and appointed by it. The
precept in the fourth command is to be taken generally of
such a seventh day as God should appoint, or had ap
pointed. And because such a particular day had been
already appointed for the Jewish church ; therefore, as it
was spoken to them, it did refer to that particular day.
But this doth not prove, but that the same words refer to
another appointed seventh day, now in the christian church.
The words of the fourth command may oblige the ch urch,
under different dispensations, to observe different appoint
ed seventh days, as well as the fifth command may oblige
different persons to honour different fathers and mothers.
The christian sabbath, in the sense of the fourth com
mand, is as much the seventh day, as the Jewish sabbath ;
because it is kept after six days of labour as well as that ;
it is the seventh, reckoning from the beginning of our first
working-day, as well as that was the seventh from the be
ginning of their first working day. All the difference is,
that the seven days formerly began from the day after
God's rest from the creation, and now they begin the day
after that. It is no matter by what names the days are
ealled : if our nation had, for instance, called Wednesday
the first ofthe week, it would have been all one as to this
argument. Therefore, by the institution of the christian sabbath,
there is no change from the fourth command ; but the
change is from another law, which determined the begin
ning and ending of their working days. So that those
words of the fourth command, viz. " Six days shalt thou
labour and do all thy work ; but the seventh day is the
sabbath of the Lord thy God ;" afford no objection against
that which is called the christian sabbath ; for these words
remain in full force. Neither does any just objection arise
from the words following, viz. " For in six days the Lord
made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is,
and rested the seventh day ; wherefore the Lord blessed
the sabbath-day, and hallowed it." These words are not
made insignificant to Christians, by the institution of the
christian sabbath : they still remain in their full force as to
that which is principally intended by them. They were
designed to give us a reason why we are to work but six
days at a time, and then rest on the seventh, because God
hath set us the example. And taken so, they remain still
in as much force as ever they were. This is the reason
still, as much as ever it was, why we may work but six
days at a time. What is the reason that Christians rest
every seventh, and not every eighth, or every ninth, or
tenth day? It is because God worked six days and
rested the seventh.
It is true, these words did carry something further in
their meaning, as they were spoken to the Jews, and to
the church before the coming of Christ : it was then also
intended by them, that the seventh day was to be kept in
commemoration of . the work of creation. But this is no
objection to the supposition, that the words, as they relate
to us, do not import all that they did, as they related to
the Jews. For there are other words which were written
upon those tables of stone with the ten commandments,
which are known and allowed not to be of the same im
port, as they relate to us, and as they related to the Jews,
viz. these words, in the preface to" the ten commands,
"I am the Lord thy God, which brought thee out of the
VOL. II. H

land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage." — These
words were written on the tables of stone with the rest,
and are spoken to us, as well as to the Jews : they are
spoken to all to whom the commandments themselves are
spoken ; for they are spoken as an enforcement of the
commandments. But they do not now remain in all the
signification which they had, as they respected the Jews.
For we never were brought out of Egypt, out of the house
of bondage, except in a mystical sense. — The same may
be said of those words which are inserted in the com
mandments themselves, Deut. v. 15. "And remember
that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that
the Lord thy God brought thee out thence, through a
mighty hand and by a stretched-out arm : therefore the
Lord thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath-day."
So that all the arguments of those who are against the
christian sabbath, drawn from the fourth command, which
are all their strength, come to nothing.
2. That the ancient church was commanded to keep a
seventh day in commemoration of the work of creation,
is an argument for the keeping of a weekly sabbath in
commemoration of the work of redemption, and not any
reason against it.
We read in Scripture of two creations, the old and the
new : and these words of the fourth command are to be
taken as of the same force to those who belong to the new
creation, with respect to that new creation, as they were to
those who belonged to the old creation, with respect to
that. We read, fhat "in the beginning God created the
heaven and the earth," and the church of old were to
commemorate that work. But when God creates a new
heaven and a new earth, those that belong to this new
heaven and new earth, by a like reason, are to commemo
rate the creation of their heaven and earth.
The Scriptures teach us to look upon the old creation as
destroyed, and as it were annihilated by sin ; or, as being
reduced to a chaos again, without form and void, as it was
at first. Jer. iv. 22, 23. "They are wise to do evil, but to
do good they have no knowledge. I beheld the earth, and
lo, it was without form and void : and the heavens, and
they had no light !" i. e. they were reduced to the samt-
state in which they were at "first; the earth was without
form and void, and there was no light, but darkness was
upon the face of the deep.
The Scriptures further teach us to call the gospel-resto
ration and redemption, a creation of a new heaven and a
new earth; Isa. Ixv. 17, 18. "For behold, I create new
heavens, and a new earth ; and the former shall not be
remembered, nor come into mind. But be you glad and
rejoice for ever in that which I create : for behold, I create
Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy." And Isa. li.
16. "And I have put my words in thy mouth, and have
covered thee in the shadow of mine hand, that I may
plant the heavens, and lay the foundations of the earth,
and say unto Zion, Thou art my people." And chap.
lxvi. 22. " For as the new heavens and the new earth
which I will make," &c— In these places we are not only
told of a new creation, or new heavens and a new earth,
but we are told what is meant by it, viz. The gospel
renovation, the making of Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her
people a joy ; saying unto Zion, " Thou art my people,"
&c. The prophet, in all these places, is prophesying of
the gospel-redemption.
The gospel-state is every where spoken of as a renewed
state of things, wherein old things are passed away, and
all things become new : we are said to be created unto
Christ Jesus unto good works : all things are restored and
reconciled whether in heaven or in earth, and God hath
caused light to shine out of darkness, as he did at the
beginning ; and the dissolution of the Jewish state was
often spoken of in the Old Testament as the end of the
world. — But we who belong to the gospel-church, belong
to the new creation ; and therefore there seems to be at
least as much reason, that we should commemorate the
work of this creation, as that the members of the ancient
Jewish church should commemorate the work of the old
creation. 3. There is another thing which confirms it, that the
fourth command teaches God's resting from the new
creation, as well as from the old : which is that the

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

98
Scriptures expressly speak of the one, as parallel with the
odier, i. e. Christ's resting from the work of redemption, is
expressly spoken of as being parallel with God's resting
from the work of creation. Heb. iv. 10. " For he that is
entered into his rest, he also hath ceased from his own
works, as God did from his."
Now, Christ rested from his works when he rose from
the dead, on the first day of the week. When he rose
from the dead, then he finished his work of redemption ;
his humiliation was then at an end ; he then rested, and
was refreshed.— When it is said, " There remaineth a rest
to the people of God ;" in the original, it is, a sabbatism,
or the keeping of a sabbath : and this reason is given for
it, " For he that entered into his rest, he also hath ceased
from his own works, as God did from his." — These three
things at least we are taught by these words :
(1.) To look upon Christ's rest from his work of re
demption, as parallel with God's rest from the work of
creation ; for they are expressly compared together, as
parallel one with the other.
(2.) They are spoken of as parallel, particularly in this
respect, viz. The relation which they both have to the
keeping of a sabbath among God's people, or with respect
to the influence which these two rests have, as to sabba-
tizing in the church of God : for it is expressly with re
spect to this that they are compared together. Here is an
evident reference to God's blessing and hallowing the day
of his rest from the creation to be a sabbath, and appoint
ing a sabbath of rest in imitation of him. For the apostle
is speaking of this, ver. 4. "For he spake in a certain
place of the seventh day on this wise, And God did rest
the seventh day froni all his works." Thus far is evident ;
whatever the apostle has respect to by this keeping of a
sabbath by the people of God, whether it be a weekly
sabbatizing on earth, or a sabbatizing in heaven.
(3.) It is evident in these words, that the preference is
given to the latter rest, viz. The rest of our Saviour from
his works, with respect to the influence it should have, or
relation it bears, to the sabbatizing of the people of God,
now under the gospel, evidently implied in the expression,
" There remaineth therefore a sabbatism to the people of
God. For he that entered into his rest," &c. For, in this
expression, There remaineth, it is intimated that the old
sabbatism appointed in remembrance of God's rest from
the work of creation, doth not remain, but ceases ; and
that this new rest, in commemoration of Christ's resting
from his works, remains in the room of it.
4. The Holy Ghost hath implicitly told us, that the
Sabbath which was instituted in commemoration of the
old creation, should not be kept in gospel-times. Isa.
lxv. 17, 18. There we are told, that when God should
create new heavens and a new earth, the former should
not be remembered, nor come into mind. If this be so,
it is not to be supposed, that we are to keep a seventh
part of time, on purpose to remember it, and call it to
mind. Let us understand this which way we will, it will not
be well consistent with the keeping of one day in seven,
in the gospel-church, principally for the remembrance and
calling to mind of the old.creation. If the meaning of the
place be only this, that the old creation shall not be re
membered nor come into mind in comparison with the
new — that the new will be so much more remarkable and
glorious, will so much more nearly concern us, so much
more notice will be taken of it, and it will be thought so
much more worthy to be remembered and commemorated,
that the other will not be remembered, nor come into mind
— it is impossible that it should be more to our purpose.
For then hereby the Holy Ghost teaches us, that the chris
tian church has much more reason to commemorate the
new creation than the old ; insomuch, that the old is wor
thy to be forgotten in comparison vfrith it.
And as the old creation was no more to be remembered,
nor come into mind ; so, in the following verse, the church
is directed for ever to commemorate the new creation :
" But be you glad, and rejoice for ever in that which I
create ; for behold, I create Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her
people a joy ;" i. e. Though you forget the old, yet for
ever to the end of the world, keep a remembrance of the
new creation.

5 It is an argument that the Jewish sabbath was not
to be perpetual, that the Jews were commanded to keep
it in remembrance of their deliverance out of Egypt. One
reason why it was instituted was, because God thus deli
vered them, as we are expressly told, Deut. v. 15. " And
remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt,
and that the Lord thy God brought thee out thence,
through a mighty hand, and by a stretched-out arm :
therefore tlie Lord thy God commanded thee to keep the
sabbath-day." Now, can any person think, that God
would have all nations under the gospel, and to the end
of the world, keep a day every week, which was instituted
in remembrance of the deliverance of the Jews out of
Egypt? 6. The Holy Ghost hath implicitly told us, that insti
tuted memorials of the Jews' deliverance from Egypt
should be no longer upheld in gospel-times, Jer. xvi. 14,
15. The Holy Ghost, speaking of gospel-times, says,
" Therefore, behold the days come, saith the Lord, that it
shall no more be said, The Lord liveth that brought up
the children of Israel out of Egypt; but the Lord
liveth that brought up the children of Israel from the
land of the north, and from all the lands whither he
had driven them ; and I will bring them again into their
own land." They shall no more say, The Lord liveth that
brought, fyc. i. e. at least they shall keep up no more any
public memorials of it.
If there be a sabbath kept up in gospel-times, as we have
shown there must be, it is more just from these words to
suppose, that it should be as a memorial of that which is
spoken of in the latter verse, the bringing up qf the children
of Israel from the land qf the north : that is, the redemp
tion of Christ, and his bringing home the elect, not only
from Judea, but from the north, and from all quarters of
the world.— See Isa. xliii. 16 — 20.
7. It is no more than just to suppose, that God intend
ed to intimate to us, that the sabbath ought by Christians
to be kept in commemoration of Christ's redemption, in
that the Israelites were commanded to keep it in remem
brance of their deliverance out of Egypt ; because that de
liverance out of Egypt is an evident, known, and allowed
type of it. It was ordered of God, on purpose to represent it ;
every thing about that deliverance was typical of this re
demption, and much is made of it, principally for this
reason, because it is so remarkable a type of Christ's re
demption. And it was but a shadow, the work in itself
was nothing in comparison with the work of redemption.
What is a petty redemption of one nation from a temporal
bondage, to the eternal salvation of the whole church of the
elect in all ages and nations, from eternal damnation, and
the introduction of them, not into a temporal Canaan, but
into heaven, into eternal glory and blessedness ? Was
that shadow so much to be commemorated, as that a day
once a week was to be kept on the account of it ; and
shall not we much more commemorate that great and
glorious work of which it was designed on purpose to be
a shadow. Besides, the words in the fourth commandment, which
speak of the deliverance out of Egypt, can be of no signi-
ficancy unto us, unless they are to be interpreted of the
gospel-redemption : but the words of the decalogue are
spoken to all nations and ages. Therefore, as the words
were spoken to the Jews, they referred to the type or
shadow ; as they are spoken to us, they are to be interpret
ed of the antitype and substance. For the Egypt from
which we under the gospel are redeemed, is the spiritual
Egypt ; the house of bondage from which we are redeemed,
is a state of spiritual bondage. — Therefore the words, as
spoken to us, are to be thus interpreted, Remember, thou
wast a servant to sin and Satan, and the Lord thy God
delivered thee from this bondage, with a mighty hand and
outstretched arm ; therefore the Lord thy God commanded
thee to keep the sabbath-day.
As the words in the preface to the ten commandments,
about the bringing of the children of Israel out of Egypt,
are interpreted in our catechism, and as they have respect
to us, must be interpreted, of our spiritual redemption, so,
by an exact identity of reason, must these words in Deute
ronomy, annexed to the fourth command, be interpreted of
the same gospel-redemption.

Serm. XIV.

THE CHANGE OF THE SABBATH.

»y

The Jewish sabbath was kept on the day that the chil
dren of Israel came up out of the Red sea. For we are
told in Deut. v. 15. that this holy rest of the sabbath
was appointed in commemoration of their coming up out
of Egypt. But the day of their going through the Red sea
was the day of their coming up out of Egypt ; for till then
they were in the land of Egypt. The Red sea was the
boundary ofthe land of Egypt.— The Scripture itself tells
us, that the day on which they sung the song of Moses,
was the day of their coming up out of the land of Egypt ;
Hosea ii. 15. " And she shall sing there, as in the days of
her youth, as in the day when she came up out of the land
of Egypt;" referring plainly to that triumphant song which
Moses and the children of Israel sang when they came up
out of the Red sea.
The Scripture tells us, that God appointed the Jewish
sabbath in commemoration of the deliverance of the chil
dren of Israel from their task-masters, the Egyptians, and
of their rest from their hard bondage and slavery under
them; Deut. v. 14, 15. " That thy man-servant and thy
maid-servant may rest as well as thou. And remember
that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the
Lord thy God brought thee out thence, through a mighty
hand, and by a stretched-out arm : therefore the Lord thy
God commanded thee to keep the sabbath-day." But the
day that the children of Israel were delivered from their
task-masters and had rest from them, was the day when
the children of Israel came up out of the Red sea. They
had no rest from them till then. For though they were
before come forth on their journey to go out of the land of
Egypt ; yet they were pursued by the Egyptians, and were
exceedingly perplexed and distressed. But on the morning
that they came up out of the Red sea, they had complete
and final deliverance ; then they had full rest from their
task-masters. Then God said to them, " The Egyptians
which ye have seen this day, ye shall see no more for ever;"
Exod. xiv. 13. Then they enjoyed a joyful day of rest, a
day of refreshment. Then they sang the song of Moses ;
and on that day was their sabbath of rest.
But this coming up of the children of Israel out of the
Red sea, was only a type of the resurrection of Christ.
That people was the mystical body of Christ, and Moses
was a great type of Christ himself; and besides, on that
day Christ went before the children of Israel in the pillar
of cloud and of fire, as their Saviour and Redeemer. On
that morning Christ, in this pillar of cloud and fire, rose
out of the Red sea, as out of great waters ; which was a
type of Christ's rising from a state of death, and from that
great humiliation which he suffered in death.
The resurrection of Christ from the dead, is in Scripture
represented by his coming up out of deep waters. So it is
in Christ's resurrection, as represented by Jonah's com
ing out of the sea ; Matt. xii. 40. It is also compared to a
deliverance out of deep waters, Psalm lxix. 1, 2, 3. and
verse 14, 15. These things are spoken of Christ, as is
evident from this, that many things in this Psalm are in
the New Testament expressly applied to Christ.* — There
fore, as the Jewish sabbath was appointed on the day on
which the pillar of cloud and fire rose out of the Red sea,
and on which Moses and the church, the mystical body of
Christ, came up out of the same sea, which is a type of the
resurrection of Christ ; it is a great confirmation that the
christian sabbath should be kept on the day of the rising
of the real body of Christ from the grave, which is the
antitype. For surely the Scriptures have taught us, that
the type should give way to the antitype, and that the
shadow should give way to the substance.
8. I argue the same thing from Psalm cxviii. 22, 23,
24. There we are taught, that the day of Christ's resur
rection is. to be celebrated with holy joy by the church.
"The stone which the builders refused is become the
head-stone of the corner. This is the Lord's doing, it is
marvellous in our eyes. This is the day which the Lord
hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it." The stone
spoken of is Christ ; he was refused and rejected by the
builders, especially when he was put to death. That
making him the head of the corner, which is the Lord's
doing, and so marvellous in our eyes, is Christ's exalta-
* Compare verse 4. with John xv. 25. and ver. 9. with John ii. 17. and
ver. 2. with Matt xxvii 34, 48. and Mark xv. 23. and John xix. 29. and ver.
H 2

tion, which began with his resurrection. While Christ lay
in the grave, he lay as a stone cast away by the builders.
But when God raised him from the dead, then he became
the head of the corner. Thus it is evident the apostle in
terprets it, Acts iv. 10, 11. " Be it known unto you all,
and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus
of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised from
the dead," &c. — " This is the stone which was set at
nought by you builders, which is become the head of the
comer."— And the day on which this was done, we are
here taught, God hath made to be the day of the rejoicing
of the church.
9. The abolition of the Jewish sabbath seems to be
intimated by this, that Christ, the Lord of the sabbath, lay
buried on that day. Christ, the author of the world, was
the author of that work of creation of which the Jewish
sabbath was the memorial. It was he that worked six
days and rested the seventh day from all his works, and
was refreshed. Yet he was holden in the chains of death
on that day. — God, who created the world, now in his
second work of creation, did not follow his own example,
if 1 may so speak ; he remained imprisoned in the grave
on that day, and took another day to rest in.
The sabbath was a day of rejoicing ; for it was kept in
commemoration of God's glorious and gracious works of
creation and the redemption out of Egypt. Therefore we
are directed to call the sabbath a delight. But it is not a
proper day for the church, Christ's spouse, to rejoice,
when Christ the bridegroom lies buried in the grave, as
Christ says, Matt. ix. 15. " That the children of the bride-
chamber cannot mourn, while the bridegroom is with
them. But the time will come, when the bridegroom shall
be taken from them ; then shall they mourn." — While
Christ was holden under the chains of death, then the
bridegroom was taken from them ; then it was a proper
time for the spouse to mourn and not rejoice. But when
Christ rose again, then it was a day of joy, because we are
begotten again to a living hope, by the resurrection of Jesus
Christ from the dead.
10. Christ hath evidently, on purpose and design, pe
culiarly honoured the first day of the week, the day on
which he rose from the dead, by taking it from time to
time to appear to the apostles ; and he chose this day to
pour out the Holy Ghost on the apostles, which we read
of in the second chapter of Acts. For this was on Pen
tecost, which was on the first day of the week, as you
may see by Levit. xxiii. 15, 16. And he honoured this
day by pouring out his Spirit on the apostle John, and
giving him his visions, Rev. i. 10. " 1 was in the Spirit on
the Lord's day," &c. — Now doubtless Christ had his
meaning in thus distinguishingly honouring this day.
11. It is evident by the New Testament, that this was
especially the day of the public worship of the primitive
church, by the direction of the apostles. We are told
that this was the day that they were wont to come toge
ther to break bread : and this they evidently did with the
approbation of the apostles, inasmuch as they preached
to them on that day ; and therefore doubtless they assem
bled together by the direction of the apostles. Acts xx. 7.
" And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples
came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them."
So the Holy Ghost was careful that the public contribu
tions should be on this day, in all the churches, rather
than on any other day, as appears by our text.
12. This first day ofthe week is in the New Testament
called the Lord's day ; see Rev. i. 10. — Some say, how do
we know that this was the first day of the week ? Every
day is the Lord's day. But it is the design of John to tell
us when he had those visions. And if by the Lord's day is
meant any day, how doth that inform us when that event
took place ?
But what is meant by this expression we know, just in
the same way as we know what is the meaning of any
word in the original of the New Testament, or the mean
ing of any expression in an ancient language, viz. by
what we find to be the universal signification of the ex
pression in ancient times. This expression, the Lord's
day, is found by the ancient use of the whole christian
2. with Rom. xi. 9, 10. and ver. 25. with Acts i. 20.

100

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

church, by what appears in all the writings of ancient
times, even from the apostles' days, to signify the first day
of the week.
And the expression implies in it the holiness of the
day. For doubtless the day is called the Lord's day, as
the sacred supper is called the Lord's supper, which is so
called, because it is a holy supper, to be celebrated in re
membrance ofthe Lord Christ, and of his redemption. So
this is a holy day, to be kept in remembrance of the Lord
Christ, and his redemption.
The first day of the week being in Scripture called the
Lord's day, sufficiently makes it out to be the day of the
week that' is to be kept holy unto God ; for God hath
been pleased to call it by his own name. When any
thing is called by the name of God in Scripture, this de
notes the appropriation of it to God. — Thus God put his
name upon his people Israel of old; Numbers vi. 27.
" And they shall put my name upon the children of Israel."
They were called by the name of God, as it is said, 2
Chron. vii. 14. " If my people which are called by my
name," &c. i. e. They were called God's people, or the
Lord's people. This denoted that they were a holy pecu
liar people above all others. Dent. vii. 6. " Thou art a
holy people unto the Lord ;" and so in ver. 14. and many
other places.
So the city Jerusalem was called by God's name ; Jer.
xxv. 29. — " Upon the city which is called by my name."
Dan. ix. 18, 19. " And the city which is called by thy
name," &c This denoted that it was a holy city, a city
chosen of God above all other cities for holy uses, as it is
often called the holy city, as in Neh. xi. 1. "To dwell in
Jerusalem, the holy city ;" and in many other places.
So the temple is said to be, a house called by God's
name ; 1 Kings viii. 43. " This house that is called by
my name." And often elsewhere. That is, it was called
God's house, or the Lord's house. This denoted that it
was called a holy place, a house devoted to holy uses,
above all others.
So also we find that the first day of the week is called
by God's name, being called in Scripture God's day, or
the Lord's day, which denotes that it is a holy day, a day
appropriated to holy uses, above all others in the week.
13. The tradition of the church from age to age, though
it be no rule, yet may be a great confirmation of the truth
in such a case as this is. We find by all accounts, that
it has been the -universal custom of the christian church, in
all ages, even from the age of the apostles, to keep the
first day of the week. We read in the writings which
remain of the first, second, and third centuries, of the
Christians keeping the Lord's day ; and so in all suc
ceeding ages : and there are no accounts that contradict
them. — This day hath all along been kept by Christians,
in all countries throughout the world, and by almost all
that have borne the name of Christians, of all denomina
tions, however different in their opinions as to other
things. Now, although this be not sufficient of itself without a
foundation in Scripture ; yet it may be a confirmation of
it, because here is really matter of conviction in it to our
reason. Reason may greatly confirm truths revealed in
the Scriptures. The universality of the custom through
out all christian countries, in all ages, by what account we
have of them, is a good argument, that the church had it
from the apostles : and it is difficult to conceive how all
should come to agree to set up such a custom through the
world, of different sects and opinions, and we have no ac
count of any such thing.
14. It is no way weakening to these arguments, that
there is nothing more plainly said about it in the New
Testament, till John wrote his Revelation, because there
is a sufficient reason to be given for it. , In all probability
it was purposely avoided by the Holy Spirit, in the first
settling of christian churches in the world, both among
the heathen and among the Jews, but especially for the

sake of the Jews, and out of tenderness to the Jewish
Christians. For it is evident that Christ and the apostles
declared one thing after another to them gradually as they
could bear it.
The Jews had a regard for their sabbath above almost
any thing in the laws of Moses ; and there was that in the
Old Testament which tended to uphold them in the ob
servance of this, much more strongly than any thing else
that was Jewish. God had made so much of it, had so
solemnly, frequently, and carefully commanded it, and had
often so dreadfully punished the breach of it, that there
was more colour for their retaining this custom than almost
any other.
Therefore Christ dealt very tenderly with them in this
point. Other things of this nature we find very gradually
revealed. Christ had many things to say, as we are in
formed, which yet he said not, because they could not as
yet bear them, and gave this reason for it, that it was like
putting new wine into old bottles. They were so contrary
to their old customs, that Christ was gradual in revealing
them. He gave here a little and there a little, as they
could bear ; and it was a long time before he told them
plainly the principal doctrines of the kingdom of heaven.
— He took the most favourable opportunities to tell them
of his sufferings and death, especially when they were full
of admiration at some signal miracle, and were confirmed
in it, that he was the Messiah.
He told them many things much more plainly after his
resurrection than before. But even then, he did not tell
them all, but left more to be revealed by the Holy Ghost
at Pentecost. They therefore were much more enlightened
after that than before. However, as yet he did not reveal
all. The abolition of the ceremonial law about meats and
drinks was not fully known till after this.
The apostles were in the same manner careful and tender
of those to whom they preached and wrote. It was very
gradually that they ventured to teach them the cessation
of the ceremonial laws of circumcision and abstinence
from unclean meats. How tender is the apostle Paul with
such as scrupled, in the fourteenth chapter of Romans !
He directs those who had knowledge, to keep it to them
selves, for the sake of their weak brethren. Rom. xiv. 22.
— But I need say no more to evince this.
However, I will say this, that it is very possible that the
apostles themselves at first might not have this change of
the day of the sabbath fully revealed to them. . The Holy
Ghost, at his descent, revealed much to them, yet after
that, they were ignorant of much of gospel-doctrine ; yea,
they were so a great while after they acted the part of
apostles, in preaching, baptizing, and governing the church.
Peter was surprised when he was commanded to eat meats
legally unclean ; and so were the apostles in general, when
Peter was commanded to go to the Gentiles, to preach to
them. Thus tender was Christ of the church while an infant.
He did not feed them with strong meat, but was careful to
bring in the observance of the Lordls day by degrees, and
therefore took all occasions to honour it, by appearing
from time to time of choice on that day ; by sending down
his Spirit on that day in that remarkable manner at Pente
cost ; by ordering Christians to meet in order to break
bread on that day, and by ordering their contributions and
other duties of worship to be holden on it ; thus introduc
ing the observance of it by degrees. And though as yet
the Holy Ghost did not speak very plainly about it, yet
God took special care that there should be sufficient evi
dences of his will, to be found out by the christian church,
when it should be more established and settled, and should
have come to the strength of a man.
Thus I leave it with every one to judge, whether there
be not sufficient evidence, that it is the mind and will of
God, that the first day of the week should be kept by the
christian church as a sabbath ?

Serm. XV.

THE CHANGE OF THE SABBATH.

101

SERMON XV.

THE PERPETUITY AND CHANGE OF THE SABBATH.

1 Cor. xvi. 1, 2.
Now concerning the collection for the saints, as I have
given order to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye.
Upon the first day of the week, let every one qf you lay
by him in store, as God hath prospered him, that there be
no gatherings when I come.
It is the mind and will of God, that the first day of the
week should be especially set apart among Christians for
religious exercises and duties.
On this doctrine I have already discoursed, under two
propositions, showing, first, That it is the will of God,
that one day of the week be, in all ages, set apart for re
ligious duties ; and secondly, That under the gospel, this
day ought to be the first day of the week. I now proceed
to the APPLICATION.
This shall be in a use of exhortation.
1 . Let us be thankful for the institution of the christian
sabbath. It is a thing wherein God hath shown his mercy
to us, and his care for our souls. He shows, that he, by
his infinite wisdom, is contriving for our good, as Christ
teaches us, that the sabbath was made for man ; Mark ii.
27. " The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the
sabbath." It was made for the profit and for the comfort
of our souls.
The sabbath is a day of rest : God hath appointed that
we should, every seventh day, rest from all our worldly
labours. Instead of that, he might have appointed the
hardest labours for us to go through, some severe hardships
for us to endure. It is a day of outward, but especially
of spiritual, rest. It is a day appointed of God, that his
people thereon may find rest unto their souls ; that the
souls of believers may rest and be refreshed in their
Saviour. It is a day of rejoicing : God made it to be a
joyful day to the church; Ps. cxviii. 24. — " This is the
day which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad
in it." They that aright receive and improve the sabbath,
call it a delight and honourable : it is a pleasant and a
joyful day to them ; it is an image of the future heavenly
rest ofthe church. Heb. iv. 9, 10, 11. " There remaineth
therefore a rest " (or sabbatism, as it is in the original)
" to the people of God. For he that hath entered into his
rest, he also hath ceased from his own works, as God did
from his. _ Let us labour therefore to enter into that rest."
The christian sabbath is one of the most precious enjoy
ments of the visible church. Christ showed his love to
his church in instituting it ; and it becomes the christian
church to be thankful to her Lord for it. The very name
of this day, the Lord's day, or Jesus's day, should endear it
to Christians, as it intimates the special relation it has to
Christ, and also the design of it, which is the commemo
ration of our dear Saviour, and his love to his church in
redeeming it.
2. Be exhorted to keep this day holy. — God hath given
such evidences that this is his mind, that he will surely
require it of you, if you do not strictly and conscientiously
observe it. And if you do thus observe it, you may have
this comfort in the reflection upon your conduct, that you
have not been superstitious in it, but have done as God
hath revealed it to be his mind and will in his word, that
you should do ; and that in so doing you are in the way of
God's acceptance and reward.
Here let me lay before you the following motives to ex
cite you to this duty.
(1 .) By a strict observation of the sabbath, the name of
God is honoured, and that in such a way as is very accept

able to him. Isa. lviii. 13. "If thou call the sabbath a
delight, the holy of the Lord, and shalt honour him.'' God
is honoured by it, as it is a visible manifestation of respect
to God's holy law, and a reverencing of that which has a
peculiar relation to God himself, and that more in some
respects than the observance oFmany other commands.
And man may be just, and generous, and yet not so
plainly show respect to the revealed mind and will of
God, for many of the heathen have been so. But if a
person, with evident strictness and care, observe the sab
bath, it is a visible manifestation of a conscientious regard
to God's declaration of his mind, and so is a visible
honour done to his authority.
By a strict observance of the sabbath, the face of religion
is kept up in the world. If it were not for the sabbath,
there would be but little public and visible appearance of
serving, worshipping, and reverencing the supreme and
invisible Being. The sabbath seems to have been appointed
very much for this end, viz. to uphold the visibility of re
ligion in public, or among professing societies of men ;
and by how much greater the strictness is with which the
sabbath is observed, and with how much more solemnity the
duties of it are observed among a people ; by so much the
greater is the manifestation among them of respect to the
Divine Being.
This should be a powerful motive with us to the obser
vation of the sabbath. It should be our study above all
things to honour and glorify God- It should be the great
thing with all that bear the name of Christians, to honour
their great God and King, and I hope is a great thing with
many that hear me at this time. If it be your inquiry, if
it be your desire, to honour God ; by this subject you
are directed to one way whereby you may do much in
that way, viz. by honouring the sabbath, and by showing a
careful and strict observance of it.
(2.) That which is the business of the sabbath is the
greatest business of our lives, viz. that of religion. To
serve and worship God is that for which we were made,
and for which we had our being given us. Other business,
which is of a secular nature, and on which we are wont
to attend on week days, is but subordinate, and ought to
be subservient to the higher purposes and ends of religion.
Therefore surely we should not think much of devoting
one seventh part of our time, to be wholly spent in this
business, and to be set apart to exercise ourselves in the
immediate duties of religion.
. (3.) Let it be considered, that all our time is God's, and
therefore when he challenges of us one day in seven, he
challenges his own. He doth not exceed his right ; he
would not have exceeded it, if he had challenged a far
greater proportion of our time to be spent in his immediate
service. But he hath mercifully considered our state, and
our necessities here ; and, as he hath consulted the good
of our souls in appointing a seventh day for the immediate
duties of religion, so he hath considered our outward
necessities, and hath allowed us six days for attendance on
our outward affairs. — What unworthy treatment therefore
will it be of God, if we refuse to allow him even the
seventh day !
(4.) As the sabbath is a day which is especially set apart
for religious exercises, so it is a day wherein God especially
confers his grace and blessing.  As God hath command
ed us to set it apart to have converse with him, so hath he
set it apart for himself to have converse with us. As God
hath commanded us to observe the sabbath, so God ob
serves the sabbath too. It is with respect to the sabbath,
as Solomon prayed that it might be with respect to the
temple, 2 Chron. vi. 20. His eyes are open upon it : he
stands ready then especially to hear prayers, to accept of
religious services, to meet his people, to manifest himself

102

FIFTEEN SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

to them, to give his Holy Spirit and blessing to those who
diligently and conscientiously sanctify it. ,
That we should sanctify the sabbath, as we have observ
ed, is according to God's institution. God in a sense
observes his own institutions ; i. e. is wont to cause them
to be attended with a blessing. The institutions of God
are his appointed means of grace, and with his institutions
he hath promised his blessing ; Exod. xx. 24. " In all
places where I record my name, I will come unto thee,
and I will bless thee." For the same reason we may con-
ciude, that God will meet his people and bless them,
waiting upon him not only in appointed places, but at ap
pointed times and in all appointed ways. Christ hath
Eromised, that where two or three are gathered together in
is name, he will be in the midst of them, Matt, xviii. 20.
One thing included in the expression, in his name is, that
it is by his appointment, and according to his institution.
God hath made it our duty, by his institution, to set
apart this day for a special seeking of his grace and bless
ing. From which we may argue, that he will be especially
ready to confer his grace on those who thus seek it. If it
be the day on which God requires us especially to seek
him, we may argue, that it is a day on which especially he
will be found. That God is ready on this day especially
to bestow his blessing on them that keep it aright, is im
plied in that expression of God's blessing the sabbath-day.
God hath not only hallowed the sabbath-day, but blessed
it ; he hath given his blessing to it, and will confer his
blessing upon all the due observers of it. He hath hallow
ed it, or appointed that it be kept holy by us, and hath
blessed it ; he bath determined to give his blessing upon it.
So that here is great encouragement for us to keep holy
the sabbath, as we would seek God's grace and our own
spiritual good. The sabbath-day is an accepted time, a
day of salvation, a time wherein God especially loves to
be sought, and loves to be found. The Lord Jesus Christ
takes delight in his own day ; he delights to honour it ;
he delights to meet with and manifest himself to his dis
ciples on it, as he showed before his ascension, by appear
ing to them from time to time on this day. On this day
he delights to give his Holy Spirit, as he intimated, by
choosing it as the day on which to pour out the Spirit in so
remarkable a manner on the primitive church, and on which
to give his Spirit to the apostle John.
Of old God blessed the seventh day, or appointed it to
be a day whereon especially he would bestow blessings
on his people, as an expression of his own joyful remem
brance of that day, and of the rest and refreshment which
he had on it. Exod. xxxi. 16, 17. " Wherefore the chil
dren of Israel shall keep the sabbath-day. — For in six days
the Lord made heaven and earth, and on the seventh day
he rested and was refreshed." As princes give gifts on
their birth-days, on their marriage-days, and the like ; so
God was wont to dispense spiritual gifts on the seventh
day. But how much more reason has Christ to bless the day
of his resurrection, and to delight to honour it, and to con
fer his grace and blessed gifts on his people on this day.
It was a day whereon Christ rested and was refreshed in
a literal sense. It was a day of deliverance from the
chains of death, the day of his finishing that great and diffi
cult work of redemption, which had been upon his heart
from all eternity ; the day of his justification by the
Father ; the day ofthe beginning of his exaltation, and of
the fulfilment of the promises of the Father; the day
when he had eternal life, which he had purchased, put into
his hands.— On this day Christ doth indeed delight to dis
tribute gifts, and blessings, and joy, and happiness, and
will delight to do the same to the end of the world.
O therefore, how well is it worth our while to improve
this day, to call upon God and seek Jesus Christ ! Let
awakened sinners be stirred up by these tilings to improve
the sabbath-day, as they would lay themselves most in the
way of the Spirit of God. Improve this day to call upon
God ; for then he is near. Improve it for reading the Holy
Scriptures, and diligently attending his word preached ;
for then is the likeliest time to have the Spirit accompany
ing it. Let the saints who are desirous of growing in
grace, and enjoying communion with Christ, improve the
sabbath in order to it.

(5.) The last motive which I shall mention, is the ex
perience of the influence which a strict observance of the
sabbath has upon the whole of religion. It may be ob
served, that in those places where the sabbath is well
kept, religion in general will be most flourishing ; and that
in those places where the sabbath is not much noticed,
and much is not made of it, there is no great matter of re
ligion any way. — But,
Inq. How ought we to keep the sabbath ?
Ans. 1. We ought to be exceedingly careful on this day
to abstain from sin. Indeed, all breaches of the sabbath
are sinful ; but we speak now of those things which are in
themselves sinful, or sinful upon other accounts, besides
that they are done upon the sabbath. The sabbath being
holy time, it is especially defiled by the commission of sin.
Sin by being committed on this day becomes the more ex
ceeding sinful. We are required to abstain from sin at all
times, but especially on holy time. The commission of
immoralities on the sabbath is the worst way of profaning
it, that which most provokes God, and brings most guilt
upon the souls of men.
How provoking must it be to God, when men do those
things on that day — which he has sanctified, and set apart
to be spent in the immediate exercises of religion — which
are not fit to be done on common days, which are impure
and wicked whenever they are done f
Therefore if any persons be guilty of any such wicked
ness, as intemperance or any unclean actions, they do in a
very horrid manner profane the sabbath. Or if they be
guilty of wickedness in speech, of talking profanely, or in
an unclean and lascivious manner, or of talking against
their neighbours, they do in a dreadful manner profane the
sabbath. Yet very commonly those who are used to such
things on week-days, have not a conscience to restrain
them on the sabbath. It is well if those that live in the
indulgence of the lust of uncleanness on week-days, be not
some way or other unclean on the sabbath. They will be
indulging the same lusts then; they will be indulging their
impure flames in their imaginations at least : and it is well
if they keep clear while in the house of God, and while
they pretend to be worshipping God. The unclean young
man gives this account of himself, Prov. v. 14. " I was al
most in all evil in the midst of the congregation and the
assembly." So those who are addicted to an impure way
of talking in the week-time, have nothing to keep them
from the same upon the sabbath, when they meet together.
But dreadfully is God provoked by. such things.
We ought carefully to watch over our own hearts, and
to avoid ail sinful thoughts on the sabbath. We ought to
maintain such a reverence for the sabbath, as to have a
peculiar dread of sin, such as shall awe us to a very careful
watch over ourselves.
2. We ought to be careful to abstain from all worldly
concerns. The reason, as we have showed, why it is need
ful and proper, that certain stated parts of time should be
set apart to be devoted to religious exercises, is because
the state of mankind is such in this world, that they are
necessitated to exercise their minds, and employ their
thoughts, about secular matters. It is therefore convenient
that there should be stated times, wherein all should be
obliged to throw by all other concerns, that their minds
may the more freely, and with less entanglement, be engaged
in religious and spiritual exercises.
We are therefore to do thus, or else we frustrate the very
design of the institution of a sabbath. We are strictly to
abstain from being outwardly engaged in any worldly
thing, either worldly business or recreations. "We are to
rest in remembrance of God's rest from the work of crea
tion, and of Christ's rest from the work of redemption. We
should be careful that we do not encroach upon the sab
bath at its beginning, by busying ourselves about the world
after the sabbath is begun. We should avoid talking about
worldly matters, and even thinking about them; for
whether we outwardly concern ourselves with the world or
not, yet if our minds be upon it, we frustrate the end of
the sabbath. The end of its separation from other days is,
that our minds may be disengaged from worldly things :
and we are to avoid being outwardly concerned with the
world, only for this reason, that that cannot be without
taking up our minds.— We ought therefore to give the

Serm. XV.

THE PERPETUITY AND CHANGE OF THE SABBATH.

103

world no place in our thoughts on the sabbath, but to ab
stract ourselves from all worldly concerns, and maintain a
watch over ourselves, that the world do not encroach, as it
is very apt to do. Isa. lviii. 13, 14.
3. We ought to spend the time in religious exercises.
This is the more ultimate end of the sabbath. We are to
keep our minds separate from the world, principally for
this end, that we may be the more free for religious exer
cises. — Though it be a day of rest, yet it was not designed
to be a day of idleness. To rest from worldly employments,
without employing ourselves about any thing, is but to lay
ourselves so much more in the devil's way. The mind
will be employed someway or other; and therefore doubt
less the end for which we are to call off our minds from
worldly things on the sabbath is, that we may employ
them about things that are better.
We are to attend on spiritual exercises with the greatest
diligence. That it is a day of rest, doth not hinder us in
so doing ; for we are to look on spiritual exercises but as
the rest and refreshment of the soul. In heaven, where the
people of God have the most perfect rest, they are not idle,
but are employed in spiritual and heavenly exercises.—
We should take care therefore to employ our minds on a
sabbath-day on spiritual objects by holy meditation ; im
proving for our help therein the Holy Scriptures, and other
books that are according to the word of God. We should
also employ ourselves outwardly on this day in the duties
of divine worship, in public and private. It is proper to
be more frequent and abundant in secret duties on this day,
than on other days, as we have time and opportunity, as
well as to attend on public ordinances.
It is proper on this day, not only especially to promote
the exercise of religion in ourselves, but also in others; to
be assisting them, and endeavouring to promote their
spiritual good, by religious conference. — Especially those
who have the care of others ought, on this day, to endea
vour to promote their spiritual good : heads of families
should be instructing and counselling their children, and
quickening them in the ways of religion, and should see to
it that the sabbath be strictly kept in their houses. A pe
culiar blessing may be expected upon those families where
there is due care taken that the sabbath be strictly and
devoutly observed.
4. We are on this day especially to meditate upon and
celebrate the work of redemption. Weare with special joy
to remember the resurrection of Christ ; because that was
the finishing of that work. And this is the day whereon
Christ rested and was refreshed, after he had endured those
extreme labours which he endured for our perishing souls.
This was the day of the gladness of Christ s heart ; it was

the day of his deliverance from the chains of death, and
also of our deliverance; for we are delivered in him who
is our head. He, as it were, rose with his elect. He is
the first-fruits ; those that are Christ's will follow. Christ,
when he rose, was justified as a public person, and we are
justified in him. This is the day of our deliverance out of
Egypt-
. We should therefore meditate on this with joy; we
should have a sympathy with Christ in his joy. As he was
refreshed on this day, so we should be refreshed, as those
whose hearts are united with his. When Christ rejoices,
it becomes all his church every .where to rejoice. — We are
to say of this day, " This is the day that the Lord hath
made ; we will rejoice and be glad in it."
But we are not only to commemorate the resurrection
of Christ, but the whole work of redemption, of which
this was the finishing. We keep the day on which the
work was finished, because it is in remembrance of the
whole work. — We should on this day contemplate the
wonderful love of God and of Christ, as expressed in the
work of redemption ; and our remembrance of these
things should be accompanied with suitable exercises of
soul with respect to them. When we call to mind the
love of Christ, it should be with a return of love on our
part. When we commemorate this work, it should be
with faith in the Saviour. And we should praise God
and the Lamb for this work, for the divine glory and
love manifested in it, in our private and public prayers,
in talking of the wonderful works of God, and in singing
divine songs.
Hence it is proper that Christ's disciples should choose
this day to come together to break bread, or to celebrate
the ordinance of the Lord's supper, Acts xx. 7. because it
is an ordinance instituted in remembrance of the work of
redemption. 5. Works of mercy and charity are very proper and
acceptable to Christ on this day. They were proper on
the ancient sabbath. Christ was wont to do such works
on the sabbath-day. But they especially become the
christian sabbath, because it is a day kept in commemo
ration of the greatest work of mercy and love towards us
that ever was wrought. What can be more proper than
that on such a day we should be expressing our love and
mercy towards our fellow-creatures, and especially our
fellow-Christians. Christ loves to see us show our thank
fulness to him in such ways as these. Therefore we find
that the Holy Ghost was especially careful, that such
works should be performed on the first day of the week
in the primitive church, as we learn by our text.

SEVEN SERMONS

IMPORTANT SUBJECTS.

VIZ.

THE BEST PORTION.
DIVINE SOVEREIGNTY.
PARDON FOR SINNERS.
THE PRAYER-HEARING GOD.

EXCOMMUNICATION.WRATH TO THE UTTERMOST.
WICKED MEN USEFUL IN THEIR DE
STRUCTION ONLY.

SERMON I *

GOD THE BEST PORTION OF THE CHRISTIAN.

Psalm lxxiii. 25.
Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon
earth that I desire besides thee.
In this psalm, the psalmist (Asaph) relates the great
difficulty which existed in his own mind, from the con
sideration of the wicked. He observes, ver. 2 and 3. " As
for me, my feet were almost gone ; my steps had well nigh
slipt. For I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the
prosperity of the wicked." In the 4th and following
verses, he informs us, what in the wicked was his tempta
tion. In the first place, he observed, that they were
prosperous, and all things went well with them. He then
observed their behaviour in their prosperity, and the use
which they made of it; and that God, notwithstanding
such abuse, continued their prosperity. Then he tells us
by what means he was helped out of this difficulty, viz.
by going into the sanctuary, ver. 16,17. and proceeds to in
form us what considerations they were which helped him,
viz. — (1 .) The consideration of the miserable end of wicked
men. However they prosper for the present, yet they
come to a woeful end at last, ver. 18 — 20. — (2.) The con
sideration of the blessed end of the saints. Although the
saints, while they live, may be afflicted,yet they come to
a happy end at last, ver. 21 — 24. — (3.) The consideration,
that the godly have a much better portion than the wicked,
even though they have no otherportion but God ; as in
the text and following verse. Though the wicked are in
prosperity, and are not in trouble as other men ; yet the
godly, though in affliction, are in a state infinitely better,
because they have God for their portion. They need
desire nothing else ; he that hath God, hath all. Thus the
psalmist professes the sense and apprehension which he
had of things: Whom have I in heaven butt/tee? and there
is none upon earth that I desire besides thee.
In the verse immediately preceding, the psalmist takes
notice how the saints are happy in God, both when they
are in this world, and also when they are taken to another.
They are blessed in God in this world, in that he guides
them by his counsel ; and when he takes them out of it, they
are still happy, in that then he receives them to glory. This
probably led him, in the text, to declare that he desired no
other portion, either in this world or in that to come, either
* Dated, April, 1736.

in heaven or upon earth. — Whence we learn, That it is
the spirit qf a truly godly man, to prefer God before all
other things, either in heaven or on earth.
I. A godly man prefers God before any thing else in
heaven. 1 . He prefers God before any thing else that actually is
in heaven. Every godly man hath his heart in heaven;
his affections are mainly set on what is to be had there.
Heaven is his chosen country and inheritance. He hath
respect to heaven, as a traveller, who is in a distant land,
hath to his own country . The traveller can content him
self to be in a strange land for a while, but his own native
land is preferred by him to all others : Heb. xi. 13, &c.
" These all died in faith, not having received the promises,
but were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and
confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the
earth. For they that say such things, declare plainly
that they seek a country. And truly if they had been
mindful of that country from whence they came out, they
might have had opportunity to have returned : but now
they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly." — The
respect which a godly person hath to heaven may be com-
Eared to the respect which a child, when he is abroad,
ath to his father's house. He can be contented abroad
for a little while ; but the place to which he desires to re
turn, and in which to dwell, is his own home. Heaven is
the true saint's Father's house : John xiv. 2. "In my
Father's house are many mansions." John xx. 17. "I
ascend to my Father and your Father."
Now, the main reason why the godly man hath his heart
thus to heaven, is because God is there ; that is the palace
of the Most High. It is the place where God is gloriously
present, where his love is gloriously manifested, where the
godly may be with him, see him as he is, and love, serve,
praise, and enjoy him perfectly. If God and Christ were
not in heaven, he would not be so earnest in seeking it,
nor would he take so much pains in a laborious travel
through this wilderness, nor would the consideration that
he is going to heaven when he dies, be such a comfort to
him under toils and afflictions. Tne martyrs would not
undergo cruel sufferings, from their persecutors, with a
cheerful prospect of going to heaven, did they not expect
to be with Christ, and to enjoy God there. They would
not with that cheerfulness forsake all their earthly posses-

Serm. 1.

GOD THE PORTION OF THE CHRISTIAN.

105

sions, and all their earthly friends, as many thousands of
them have done, and wander about in poverty and banish
ment, being destitute, afflicted, tormented, in hopes of ex
changing their earthly for a heavenly inheritance, were it
not that they hope to be with their glorious Redeemer and
heavenly Father. — The believer's heart is in heaven, be
cause his treasure is there.
2. A godly man prefers God before any thing else that
might be in heaven. Not only is there nothing actually in
heaven, which is in his esteem equal with God ; but
neither is there any of which he can conceive as possible to
be there, which by him is esteemed and desired equally
with God. Some suppose quite different enjoyments to be
in heaven, from those which the Scriptures teach us. The
Mahometans, for instance, suppose that in heaven are to
be enjoyed ail manner of sensual delights and pleasures.
Many tilings which Mahomet has feigned are to the lusts
and carnal appetites of men the most agreeable that he
could devise, and with them he flattered his followers. —
But the true saint could not contrive one more agreeable
to his inclination and desires, than such as is revealed in
the word of God ; a heaven of envying the glorious God,
and the Lord Jesus Christ. There he shall have all sin
taken away, and shall be perfectly conformed to God, and
shall spend an eternity in exalted exercises of love to him,
and in the enjoyment of his love. If God were not to be
enjoyed in heaven, but only vast wealth, immense trea
sures of silver, and gold, great honour of such kind as men
obtain in this world, and a fulness of the greatest sensual
delights and pleasures ; all these things would not make
up for the want of God and Christ, and the enjoyment of
them there. If it were empty of God, it would indeed be
an empty melancholy place. — The godly have been made
sensible, as to all cr_ature-enjoyments, that they cannot
satisfy the soul ; and therefore nothing will content them
but God. Offer a saint what you will, if you deny him
God, he will esteem himself miserable. God is the centre
of his desires ; and as long as you keep his soul from its
proper centre, it will not be at rest.
II. It is the temper of a godly man to prefer God before
all other things on the earth.
1. The saint prefers that enjoyment of God, for which
he hopes hereafter, to any thing in this world. He looketh
not so much at the things which are seen and temporal,
as at those which are unseen and eternal, 1 Cor. iv. 18.
It is but a little of God that the saint enjoys in this world ;
he hath but a little acquaintance with God, and enjoys but
a little of the manifestations of the divine glory and love.
But God hath promised to give him himself hereafter in a
full enjoyment. And these promises are more precious to
the saint, than the most precious earthly jewels. ' The
gospel contains greater treasures, in his esteem, than the
cabinets of princes, or the mines of the Indies.
2. The saints prefer what of God may be obtained in this
life before all things in the world. There is a great differ
ence in the present spiritual attainments of the saints.
Some attain to much greater acquaintance and communion
with God, and conformity to him, than others. But the
highest attainments are very small in comparison with
what is future. The saints are capable of making progress
in spiritual attainments, and they earnestly desire such
further attainments. Not contented with those degrees to
which they have already attained, they hunger and thirst
after righteousness, and, as new-born babes, desire the
sincere milk of the word, that they may grow thereby. It
is their desire, to know more of God, to have more of his
image, and to be enabled more to imitate God and Christ
in their walk and conversation. Psal. xxvii. 4. "One thing
have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I
may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his
temple." Psal. xiii. 1, 2. " As the hart panteth after the
water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My
soul thirsteth for God, for the living God : when shall I
come and appear before God ?" Psal. lxiii. 1,2. "OGod,
thou art my God, early will I seek thee : my soul thirsteth
for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty
land, where no water is ; to see thy power and thy glory,
so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary." See also, Psal.
Ixxxiv. 1, 2, 3. and Psal. cxxx. " My soul waiteth for the

Lord, more than they that watch for the morning ; I say,
more than they that watch for the morning."
Though every saint has not this longing desire after God
to the same degree that the psalmist had, yet they are all
of the same spirit ; they earnestly desire to have more of
his presence in their hearts. That this is the temper of
the godly in general, and not of some particular saints
only, appears from Isa. xxvi. 8, 9. where not any particu
lar saint, but the church in general speaks thus : " Yea,
in the way of thy judgments, O Lord, have we waited for
thee ; the desire of our soul is to thy name, and to the
remembrance of thee. With my soul have I desired thee
in the night, and with my spirit within me will I seek thee
early." See also Cant. hi. 1, 2. v. 6, 8.
The saints are not always in the lively exercise of grace :
but such a spirit they have, and sometimes they have the
sensible exercise of it. . They desire God and divine
attainments, more than all earthly things ; and seek to be
rich in grace, more than they do to get earthly riches.
They desire the honour which is of God, more than that
which is of men, John v. 44. and communion with him,
more than any earthly pleasures. They are of the same
spirit which the apostle expresses, Phil. iii. 8. " Yea,
doubtless, and I count all things but loss, for the excel
lency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord, and do
count them but dung that I may win Christ."
3. The saint prefers what he hath already qf God before
any thing in this world. That which was infused into his
heart at his conversion, is more precious to him than any
thing which the world can afford. The views which are
sometimes given him of the beauty and excellency of God,
are more precious to him than all the treasures of the
wicked. The relation of a child in which he stands to
God, the union which there is between his soul and Jesus
Christ, he values more than the greatest earthly dignity.
That image of God which is instamped on his soul, he
values more than any earthly ornaments. It is, in his
esteem, better to be adorned with the graces of God's
Holy Spirit, than to be made to shine in jewels of gold,
and the most costly pearls, or to be admired for the
greatest external beauty. He values the robe of Christ's
righteousness, which he hath on his soul, more than the
robes of princes. The spiritual pleasures and delights
which he sometimes has in God, he prefers far before all
the pleasures of sin. Psal. Ixxxiv. 10. " A day in thy
courts is better than a thousand : I had rather be a door
keeper in the house of God, than to dwell in the tents of
wickedness." A saint thus prefers God before all other things in this
world — 1 . As he prefers God before any thing else that he
possesses in the world. Whatever temporal enjoyments he
has, he prefers God to them all. Psal. xvi. 5, 6. " The
Lord is the portion of mine inheritance, and of my cup :
thou maintainest my lot. The lines are fallen to me in
Eleasant places ; yea, I have a goodly heritage." If he
e rich, he chiefly sets his heart on his heavenly riches.
He prefers God before any earthly friend, and the divine
favour before any respect shown him by his fellow-crea
tures. Although inaavertently these have room in his
heart, and too much room ; yet he reserves the throne for
God; Luke xiv. 26. " If man come to me, and hate not
his father and mother, and wife, and children, and
brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot
be my disciple."
2. He prefers God before any earthly enjoyment of
which he hath a prospect. The children of men commonly
set their hearts more on some earthly happiness for which
they hope, and after which they are seeking, than on what
they have in present possession. But a godly man prefers
God to any thing which he has in prospect in this world.
He may, indeed, through the prevalence of corruption, be
for a season carried away with some enjoyment ; how
ever, he will again come to himself; this is not the temper
of the man ; he is of another spirit.
3. It is the spirit of a godly man to prefer God to any
earthly enjoyments of which he can conceive. He not only
prefers him to any thing which he now possesses ; but he
sees nothing possessedby any of his fellow-creatures, so
estimable. Could he have as much worldly prosperity as
he would, could he have earthly things just to his mind,

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SEVEN SERMONS.

and agreeable to his inclination ; he values the portion
which he has in God, incomparably more. He prefers
Christ to earthly kingdoms. APPLICATION.
1. Hence we may learn, that whatever changes a godly
man passes through, he is happy ; because God, who is
unchangeable, is his chosen portion. Though he meet
with temporal losses, and be deprived of many, yea, of all
his temporal enjoyments ; yet God, whom he prefers before
all, still remains, and cannot be lost. While he stays in
this changeable, troublesome world, he is happy ; because
his chosen portion, on which he builds as his main founda
tion for happiness, is above the world, and above all
changes. And when he goes into another world, still he
is happy, because that portion yet remains. Whatever he
be deprived of, he cannot be deprived of his chief portion ;
his inheritance remains sure to him. — Could worldly-
minded men find out a way to secure to themselves those
earthly enjoyments on which they mainly set their hearts,
so that they could not be lost nor impaired while they
live, how great would they account the privilege, though
other things which they esteem in a less degree, were liable
to the same uncertainty as they now are 1 Whereas now,
those earthly enjoyments, on which men chiefly set their
hearts, are often most fading. But how great is the hap
piness of those who have chosen the Fountain of all good,
who prefer him before all things in heaven or on earth, and
who can never be deprived of him to all eternity !
2. Let all by these things examine and try themselves,
whether they be saints or not. As this which hath been
exhibited is the spirit of the saints, so it is peculiar to
them : none can use the language of the text, and say,
Whom have I in heaven but thee ? there is none upon earth
that I desire besides thee, but the saints. A man's choice
is that which determines his state. He that chooses God
for his portion, and prefers him to all other things, is a
godly man, for he chooses and worships him as God. To
respect him as God, is to respect him above all other
things ; and if any man respect him as his God, his God
he is; there is an union and covenant relation between that
man and the true God. — Every man is as his God is. If
you would know what a man is, whether he be a godly
man or not, you must inquire what his God is. If the
true God be he to whom he hath a supreme respect, whom
he regards above all ; he is doubtless a servant of the
true God. But if the man have something else to which
he pays a greater respect than to Jehovah, he is not a godly
man. Inquire, therefore, how it is with you, — whether you pre
fer God before all other things. It may sometimes be a
difficulty for persons to determine this to their satisfaction ;
the ungodly may be deluded with false affections ; the
godly in dull frames may be at a loss about it. Therefore
you may try yourselves, as to this matter, several ways ; if
you cannot speak fully to one thing, yet you may perhaps
to others.
" 1 . What is it which chiefly makes you desire to go to
heaven when you die ? Indeed some have no great desire
to go to heaven. They do not care to go to hell; but if
they could be safe from that, they would not much concern
themselves about heaven. If it be not so with you, but
you find that you have a desire after heaven, then inquire
what it is for. Is the main reason, that you may be with
God, have communion with him, and be conformed to him ?
that you may see God, and enjoy him there ? Is this the
consideration which keeps your hearts, and your desires,
and your expectations towards heaven ?
2. If you could avoid death, and might have your free
choice, would you choose to live always in this world with
out' God, rather than in his time to leave the world, in order
to be with him ? If you might live here in earthly pros
perity to all eternity, but destitute of the presence of God
and communion with him — having no spiritual intercourse
between him and your souls, God and you being strangers
to each other for ever — would you choose this rather than
to leave the world, in order to dwell in heaven, as the
children of God, there to enjoy the glorious privileges of

children, in a holy and perfect love to God, and enjoyment
of him to all eternity ?
3. Do you prefer Christ to all others as the way to
heaven ? He who truly chooses God, prefers him in each
person of the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost : the
Father, as his Father ; the Son as his Saviour ; the Holy
Ghost,as his Sanctifier. Inquire, therefore, not only whether
you choose the enjoyment of God in heaven as your
highest portion and happiness, but also whether you
choose Jesus Christ before all others, as your way to hea
ven ; and that in a sense of the excellency of Christ, and
of the way of salvation by him, as being that which is to
the glory of Christ, and of sovereign grace. Is the way of
free grace, by the blood and righteousness of the blessed
and glorious Redeemer, the most excellent way to life in
your esteem ? Doth it add a value to the heavenly in
heritance, that it is conferred in this way ? Is this far
better to you than to be saved by your own righteousness,
by any of your own performances, or by any other mediator?
4. If you might go to heaven in what course you please,
would you prefer to all others the way of a strict walk
with God ? They who prefer God as hath been represent
ed, choose him, not only in the end, but in the way. They
had rather be with God than with any other, not only when
they come to the end of their journey ; but also while
they are in their pilgrimage. They choose the way of
walking with God, though it be a way of labour, and care,
and self-denial, rather than a way of sin, though it be a
way of sloth, and of gratifying their lusts.
5. Were you to spend your eternity in this world, would
you choose rather to live in mean and low circumstances
with the gracious presence of God, than to live for ever in
earthly prosperity without him ? Would you rather spend
it in holy living, and serving and wMking with God, and
in the enjoyment of the privileges of his children ? God
often manifesting himself to you as your Father, discover
ing to you his glory, and manifesting his love, lifting the
light of his countenance upon you ! Would you rather
choose these things, though in poverty, than to abound in
worldly things, and to live in ease and prosperity, at the
same time being an alien from the commonwealth of Israel?
Could you be content to stand in no child-like relation to
God, enjoying no gracious intercourse with him, having no
right to be acknowledged by him as his children? Or
would such a life as this, though in- ever so great earthly
prosperity, be esteemed by you a miserable life ?
If, after all, there remain with you doubts, and a diffi
culty to determine concerning yourselves whether you do
truly and sincerely prefer God to all other things, I would
mention two things which are the surest ways to be deter
mined in this matter, and which seem to be the best grounds
of satisfaction in it-
1. The feeling of some particular, strong, and lively ex
ercise of such a spirit. A person may have such a spirit as
is spoken of in the doctrine, and may have the exercise of
it in a low degree, and yet remain in doubt whether he
have it or not, and be unable to come to a satisfying de
termination. But God is pleased sometimes to give such
discoveries of his glory, and of the excellency of Christ, as
do so draw forth the heart, that they know beyond all
doubt, that they feel such a spirit as Paul spake of, when
he said, " he counted all things but loss for the excellency
of Christ Jesus his Lord ;" and they can boldly say, as in
the text, " Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is
none upon earth that I desire besides thee." At such times
the people of God do not need any help of ministers to
satisfy them whether they have the true love of God ; they
plainly see and feel it ; and the Spirit of God then wit-
nessefh with their spirits, that they are the chiidren of
God. — Therefore, if you would be satisfied upon this point,
earnestly seek such attainments ; seek that you may have
such clear and lively exercises of this spirit. ¦ To this end,
you must labour to grow in grace. Though you have had
such experiences in times past, and they satisfied you then,
yet you may again doubt. You should therefore seek that
you may have them more frequently ; and the way to that
is, earnestly to press forward, that you may have more
acquaintance with God, and have the principles of grace
strengthened. This is the way to have the exercises of
grace stronger, more lively, and more frequent, and so

Serm. II.

DIVINE SOVEREIGNTY.

107

to be satisfied that you have a spirit of supreme love to
God. 2. The other way is, To inquire whether you prefer
God to all other things in practice, i. e. when you have
occasion to manifest by your practice which you prefer —
when you must either cleave to one or the other, and
must either forsake other things, or forsake God — whether
then it be your manner practically to prefer God to all
other things whatever, even to those earthly things to
which your hearts are most wedded. Are your lives those
of adherence to God, and of serving him in this manner ?
He who sincerely prefers God to all other things in his
heart, will do it in his practice. For when God and all
other things come to stand in competition, that is the
proper trial what a man chooses ; ana the manner of act
ing in such cases must certainly determine what the choice
is in all free agents, or those who act on choice. There
fore there is no sign of sincerity so much insisted on in the

Bible as this, that we deny ourselves, sell all, forsake the
world, take up the cross, and follow Christ whithersoever
he goeth.— Therefore, so run, not as uncertainly ; so fight,
not as those that beat the air ; but keep under your bodies,
and bring them into subjection. Act not as though you
counted yourselves to have apprehended ; but this one
thing do, " forgetting those things which are behind, and
reaching forth unto those things which are before, press
toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in
Christ Jesus." 2 Pet. i. 5, &c. " And besides this, giving
diligence, add to your faith, virtue ; and to virtue, know
ledge; and to knowledge, temperance; and to temperance,
patience; and to patience, godliness; and to godliness,
brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity.
For if these things be in you, and abound, they make you
that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the know
ledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."

SERMON II.*
THE SOLE CONSIDERATION, THAT GOD IS GOD, SUFFICIENT TO STILL ALL OBJECTIONS
TO HIS SOVEREIGNTY.

Psalm xlvi. 10.
Be still, and know that I am God.
This psalm seems to be a song of the church in a time
of great revolutions and desolations in the world. There
fore the church glories in God as her refuge, and strength,
and present help, even in times of the greatest troubles and
overturnings, ver. 1, 2, 3. " God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble. Therefore will we not fear,
though the earth be removed, and though the mountains
be carried into the midst of the sea ; though the waters
thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake
with the swelling thereof." The church makes her boast
of God, not only as being her help, by defending her from
the desolations and calamities in which the rest of the
world were involved, but also by supplying her, as a never-
failing river, with refreshment, comfort, and joy, in the
times of public calamities. See ver. 4, 5. " There is a
river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God,
the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High. God
is in the midst of her ; she shall not be moved : God shall
help her, and that right early."
In the 6th and 8th verses are set forth the terrible
changes and calamities which were in the world : " The
heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved : he uttered his
voice, the earth melted. Come, behold the works of God,
what desolations he hath made in the earth." In the
verse preceding the text is elegantly set forth the manner
in which God delivers the church from these calamities,
and especially from the desolations of war, and the rage
of their enemies : " He maketh wars to cease unto the
end of the earth ; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the
spear in sunder ; he burneth the chariot in the fire ;" i. e.
he maketh wars to cease when they are against his people;
he breaketh the bow when bent against his saints.
Then follow the words of the text : " Be still, and
know that I am God." The great works of God, wherein
his sovereignly appeared, had been described in the fore
going verses. In the awful desolations that he made, and
by delivering his people by terrible things, he showed his
greatness and dominion. Herein he manifested his power
and sovereignty, and so commands all to bestill,and know
that he is God. For, says he, " I will be exalted among
the heathen ; I will be exalted in the earth."
In the words may be observed,
1. A duty described, to be still before God, and under
« Dated, June, 1735.

the dispensations of his providence; which implies that we
must be still as to words; not speaking against the sove
reign dispensations of Providence, or complaining of them ;
not darkening counsel by words without knowledge, or
justifying ourselves, and speaking great swelling words of
vanity. We must be still as to actions and outward be
haviour, so as not to oppose God in his dispensations ; and
as tothe inward frame of our hearts, cultivating a calm and
quiet submission of soul to the sovereign pleasure of God,
whatever it be.
2. We may observe the ground of this duty, viz. the
divinity of God. His being God is a sufficient reason why
we should be still before him, in no wise murmuring, or
objecting, or opposing, but calmly and humbly submitting
to him.
3. How we must fulfil this duty, of being still before God,
viz. with a sense of his divinity, as seeing the ground of
this duty, in that we know him to be God. Our submis
sion is to be such as becomes rational creatures. God doth
not require us to submit contrary to reason, but to submit
as seeing the reason and ground of submission. — Hence,
the bare consideration that God is God, may well be suf
ficient to still all objections and opposition against the
divine sovereign dispensations.
This may appear by the following things.
1. In that he is God, he is an absolutely and infinitely
perfect being ; and it is impossible that he should do amiss.
As he is eternal, and receives not his existence from any
other, he cannot be limited in his being, or any attribute,
to any certain determinate quantity. If any thing have-
bounds fixed to it, there must be some cause or reason
why those bounds are fixed just where they are. Whence
it will follow, that every limited thing must have some
cause ; and therefore that being which has no cause must
be unlimited.
It is most evident by the works of God, that his under
standing and power are infinite ; for he that hath made all
things out of nothing, and upholds, and governs, and
manages all things every moment, in all ages, without
growing weary, must be of infinite power. He must also
be of infinite knowledge ; for if he made all things, and
upholds and governs all things continually, it will follow,
that he knows and perfectly sees all things, great and small,
in heaven and earth, continually at one view ; which can
not be without infinite understanding.
Being thus infinite in understanding and power, he must
also be perfectly holy ; for unholiness always argues some

103

SEVEN SERMONS.

defect, some blindness. Where there is no darkness or
delusion, there can be no unholiness. It is impossible
that wickedness should consist with infinite light. God
being infinite in power and knowledge, he must be self-
sufficient and all-sufficient; therefore it is impossible that
he should be under any temptation to do any thing amiss ;
for he can have no end in doing it. When any are tempt
ed to do amiss, it is for selfish ends. But how can an all-
sufficient Being, who wants nothing, be tempted to do
evil for selfish ends ? So that God is essentially holy,
and nothing is more impossible than that God should do
amiss. 2. As he is God, he is so great, that he is infinitely
above all comprehension ; and therefore it is unreasonable
in us to quarrel with his dispensations, because they are
mysterious. If he were a being that we could compre
hend, he would not be God. It would be unreasonable
to suppose any other, than that there should be many
things in the nature of God, and in his works and govern
ment, to us mysterious, and which we never can fully
find out.
What are we ? and what do we make of ourselves, when
we expect that God and his ways should be upon a level
with our understandings ? We are infinitely unequal to
any such thing, as comprehending God. We may less un
reasonably expect that a nut-shell should contain the
ocean : Job xi. 7, &c. " Canst thou by searching find out
God ? canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection ?
It is as high as heaven, what canst thou do ? deeper than
hell, what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is longer
than the earth, and broader than the sea." If we were
sensible of the distance which there is between God and
us, we should see the reasonableness of that interrogation
ofthe apostle, Rom. ix. 20. " Who art thou, O man, that
repliest against God '!"
If we find fault with God's government, we virtually
suppose ourselves fit to be God's counsellors ; whereas it
becomes us rather, with great humility and adoration, to
cry out with the apostle, Rom. ix. 33, &c. " O the depth
of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God !
How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past
finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord?
or who hath been his counsellor ? or who hath first given
to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again ? For
of him, and through him, and to him are all things : to
whom be glory for ever." If little children should rise
up and find fault with the supreme legislature of a nation,
or quarrel with the mysterious administrations of the so
vereign, would it not be looked upon that they meddled
with things too high for them ? And what are we but
babes? Our understandings are infinitely less than those
of babes, in comparison with the wisdom of God. It
becomes us therefore to be sensible of it, and to behave
ourselves accordingly. Psal. cxxxi. 1, 2. " Lord, my
heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty ; neither do I
exercise myself in great matters, or in things too high
for me. Surely I have behaved and quieted myself
as a child." This consideration alone of the infinite dis
tance between God and us, and between God's under
standing and ours, should be enough to still and quiet us
concerning all that God does, however mysterious and un
intelligible to us. — Nor have we any right to expect, that
God should particularly explain to us the reason of his
dispensations. It is fit that God should not give any
account of his matters to us, worms of the dust, that we
may be sensible of our distance from him, and adore and
submit to him in humble reverence.
Therefore we find, that when Job was so full of diffi
culty about the divine dispensations, God did not answer
him by particularly explaining the reasons of his mysterious
providence ; but by showing him what a poor worm, what
a nothing he was, and how much he himself was above
him . This more became God than it would have done,
to enter into aparticular debate with him, or to unfold the
mysterious difficulties. It became Job to submit to God
in those things that he could not understand, and to this
the reply tended to bring him. It is fit that God should
dwell in thick darkness, or in light to which no man can
approach, which no man hath seen nor can see. No won
der that a God of infinite glory shines with a brightness

too strong and mighty for mortal eyes. For the angels
themselvls, those mighty spirits, are represented as cover
ing their faces in this light ; Isa. vi.
3 As he is God, all things are his own, and he hath a
right to dispose of them according to his own pleasure.
All things in this lower world are his; Job xii. 11.
" Whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine." Yea,
the whole universe is God's ; Deut. a. 14. '| Behold the hea
ven, and the heaven of heavens is the Lord's ; the earth also
with all that is therein." All things are his, because all
things are from him ; they are wholly from him, and from
him alone. Those things which are made by men, are not
wholly from them. When a man builds a house, it is not
wholly from him : nothing of which the house is made has
its being from him. But all creatures are wholly and
entirely the fruits of God's power, and therefore it is fit
that they should be subject to, and for, his pleasure. Prov.
xvi. 4.— And as all things are from God, so they are up
held in being by him, and would sink into nothing in a
moment, if he did not uphold them. And all things are
to him. Rom. xi. 36. " For by him, and through him,
and to him are all things." Col. i. 16, 17. " For by him
were all things created that are in heaven, and that are in
earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones or
dominions, principalities or powers : all things were created
by him and for him : and he is before all things, and by
him all things consist." All mankind are his ; their lives',
and breath, and being; "for in him we live, and move,
and have our being." Our souls and capacities are from
him. Ezek. xviii. 4. " All souls are mine : as the soul of
the father, so also the soul of the son, is mine."
4. In that he is God, he is worthy to be sovereign over
all things. Sometimes men are the owners of more than
they are worthy of. But God is not only the owner of
the whole world, as all is from and dependent on him ;
but such is his perfection, the excellency and dignity of
his nature, that he is worthy of sovereignty over all. No
man ought in the temper of his mind to be opposite to
God's exercising the sovereignty of the universe, as if he
were not worthy of it ; for to be the absolute sovereign of
the universe is not a glory or dignity too great for him. All
things in heaven and earth, angels and men, are nothing in
comparison with him ; all are as the drop of the bucket,
and as the light dust of the balance. It is therefore fit that
every thing should be in his hands, to be disposed of ac
cording to his pleasure. — His will and pleasure are of in
finitely greater importance than the will of creatures. It
is fit that his will should take place, though contrary to the
will of all other beings ; that he should make himself his
own end ; and order all things for himself. — God is pos
sessed of such perfections and excellencies as to qualify
him to be the absolute sovereign of the world. — Certainly
it is more fit that all things be under the guidance of a
perfect unerring wisdom, than that they should be left to
themselves to fall in confusion, or be brought to pass by
blind causes. Yea, it is not fit that any affairs within the
government of God should be left without the direction of
his wise providence ; least of all, things of the greatest
importance. It is absurd to suppose, that God is obliged to keep
every creature from sinning and exposing himself to an
adequate punishment. - For if so, then it will follow, that
there can be no such thing as a moral government of God
over reasonable creatures ; and it would be an absurdity
for God to give commands ; for he himself would be the
party bound to see to the performance, and there could be
no use of promises or threatenings. But if God may leave
a creature to sin, and to expose himself to punishment,
then it is much fitter and better that the matter should be
ordered by wisdom, who should justly lie exposed by sin
to punishment, and who not ; than that it be left to come
to pass by confused chance. It is unworthy of the Go
vernor of the world to leave things to chance ; it belongs
to him to govern all things by wisdom  And as God has
wisdom to qualify him to be sovereign, so he has power
also to enable him to execute the determinations of wis
dom. And he is essentially and invariably holy and
righteous, and infinitely good; whereby he is qualified to
govern the world in the best manner. — Therefore, when he
acts as sovereign of the world, it is fit that we should be

Serm. II.

DIVINE SOVEREIGNTY.

109

still, and willingly submit, and in no wise oppose his
having the glory of his sovereignty ; but should in a sense
of his worthiness, cheerfully ascribe it to him, and say,
" Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory for
ever;" and say with those in Rev. v. 13. " Blessing, and
honour, and glory, and power, be to him that sitteth upon
the throne."
5. In that he is God, he will he sovereign, and will act
as such. He sits on the throne of his sovereignty, and his
kingdom ruleth over all. He will be exalted in his
sovereign power and dominion, as he himself declares ;
" I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted
iu the earth." He will have all men to know, that he is
most high over all the earth. He doth according to his
will in the armies of heaven and amongst the inhabitants
of the earth, and none can stay his hand. — There is no
such thing as frustrating, or baffling, or undermining his
designs ; for he is great in counsel, and wonderful in
working. His counsel shall stand, and he will do all his
pleasure. There is no wisdom, nor understanding, nor
counsel against the Lord ; whatsoever God doth, it shall
be for ever ; nothing shall be put to it, nor any thing taken
from it. He will work, and who shall let it ? He is able
to dash in pieces the enemy. If men join hand in hand
against him, to hinder or oppose his designs, he breaks the
bow, he cuts the spear in sunder, he burnetii the chariot in
the fire.  He kills and he makes alive, he brings down
and raises up just as he pleases. Isa. xiv. 6, 7. " That
they may know from the rising of the sun, and from the
west, that there is none besides me. I am the Lord, and
there is none else : I form the light and create darkness ;
I make peace and create evil ; I the Lord do all these
tilings." Great men, and rich men, and wise men cannot hinder
God from doing his pleasure. He leadeth counsellors
away spoiled, he accepteth not the persons of princes, nor
regardeth the rich more than the poor. There are many
devices in a man's heart, but the counsel of the Lord that
shall stand, and the thoughts of his heart to all genera
tions. — When he gives quietness, who can make trouble ?
When he hides his face, who can behold him ? He break
eth down, and it cannot be built up again : he shutteth up
a man, and there can be no opening ; when he purposeth,
who shall disannul it ? And when his hand is stretched
out, who shall turn it back ? — — So there is no hindering
God from being sovereign, and acting as such. " He
hath mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he
will he hardeneth." He hath the keys of hell and of
death : he openeth, and no man shutteth : he shutteth,
and no man openeth. This may show us the folly of op
posing ourselves against the sovereign dispensations of
God ; and how much more wisely they act who quietly
and sweetly submit to his sovereign will.
6. In that he is God, he is able to avenge himself on
those who oppose his sovereignty. He is wise of heart,
and mighty in strength ; who hath hardened himself against
God and prospered ? He that will contend with God must
answer it. And what a poor creature is man to fight
against God ! Is he able to make his part good with him ?
Whoever of God's enemies deal proudly, he will show
that he is above them. They will be but as the chaff
before the whirlwind, and shall be as the fat of lambs ;
they shall consume into smoke, they shall consume away.
" Who would set the briers and thorns against him in
battle ? He would go through them, he would burn them
together." Isa. xxvii. 4.

APPLICATION.
A manifold improvement might be made of this doc
trine, which a little reflection may suggest to each of us.
But the improvement which I shall at this time make of
it, shall be only in a use qf reproof to such under con
victions of sin, and fears of hell, as are not still, but oppose
the sovereignty of God in the disposals of his grace.
This doctrine shows the unreasonableness, and dreadful
wickedness, of your refusing heartily to own the sove
reignty of God in this matter. It shows that you know
not that God is God. If you knew this, you would be

inwardly still and quiet ; you would humbly and calmly
lie in the dust before a sovereign God, and would see
sufficient reason for it.
In objecting and quarrelling about the righteousness of
God's laws and threatenings, and his sovereign dispensa
tions towards you and others, you oppose his divinity, you
show your ignorance of his divine greatness and excellency,
and that you cannot bear that he should have divine
honour. It is from low, mean thoughts of God, that you
do in your minds oppose his sovereignty, that you are not
sensible how dangerous your conduct is, and what an
audacious thing it is for such a creature as man to strive
with his Maker.
What poor creatures are you, that you should set up
yourselves for judges over the Most High; that you should
take it upon you to call God to an account'; that you
should say to the great Jehovah, what dost thou ? and
that you should pass sentence against him ! If you knew
that he is God, you would not act in this manner ; but this
knowledge would be sufficient to still and calm you con
cerning all God's dispensations, and you would say with
Eli, in 1 Sam. iii. 18. " It is the Lord, let him do what
seemeth good in his sight."  But here I shall be more
particular in several things.
1. It is from mean thoughts of God that you are not
convinced that you have by your sins deserved his eternal
wrath and curse. If you had any proper sense of the
infinite majesty, greatness, and holiness of God, you
would see, that to be cast into the lake of fire and brim
stone, and there to have no rest day nor night, is not a
punishment more than equal to the demerit of sin. — You
would not have so good a thought of yourselves ; you
would not be so clean and pure in your own eyes ; you
would see what vile, unworthy, hell-deserving creatures
you are. If you had not little thoughts of God, and
were to consider how you have set yourselves against him
— how vou have slighted him, his commandments and
threatenings, and despised his goodness and mercy, how
often you have disobeyed, how obstinate you have been,
how your whole lives have been filled up with sin against
God — you would not wonder that God threatens to destroy
you for ever, but would wonder that he hath not actually
done it before now.
If you had not mean thoughts of God, you would not
find fault with him for not setting his love on you who
never exercised any love to him. You would not think it
unjust in God not to seek your interest and eternal wel
fare, who never would be persuaded at all to seek his
glory ; you would not think it unjust in him to slight and
disregard you, who have so often and so long made light
of God. If you had not mean thoughts of God, you
never would think him obliged to bestow eternal salvation
upon you, who have never been truly thankful for one
mercy which you have already received of him. — What
do you think of yourselves ? what great ideas have you of
yourselves ? and what thoughts have you of God, that you
think he is obliged to do so much for you though you treat
him ever so ungratefully for the kindness which he hath
already bestowed upon you all the days of your lives ? It
must be from little thoughts of God, that you think it un
just in him not to regard you when you call upon him ;
when he hath earnestly called to you, so long and so often,
and you would not be persuaded to hearken to him.
What thoughts have you of God, that you think he is
more obliged to hear what you say to hiiri, than you are to
regard what he says to you ?
It is from diminutive thoughts of God, that you think
he is obliged to show mercy to you when you seek it,
though you have been for a long time wilfully sinning
against him, provoking him to anger, and presuming that
he would show you mercy when you should seek it. What
kind of thoughts have you of God, that you think he is
obliged, as it were, to yield himself up to be abused by
men, so that when they have done, his mercy and pardon
ing grace shall not be in his own power, but he must be
obliged to dispense them at their call ?
2. It is from little thoughts of God, that you quarrel
against his justice in the condemnation qf sinners, from the
doctrine of original sin. It must be because you do not
know him to be God, and will not allow him to be sove-

110

SEVEN SERMONS.

reign. It is for want of a sense how much God is above
you, that those things in him which are above your com
prehension, are such difficulties and stumbling-blocks to
you : it is for want of a sense how much the wisdom and
understanding of God are above yours, and what poor,
short-sighted, blind creatures you are, in comparison with
him. If you were sensible what God is, you would see
it most reasonable to expect that his ways should be fer
above the reason of man, and that he dwells in light which
no man can approach unto, which no man hath seen, nor
can see. — If men were sensible how excellent and perfect
a Being he is, they would not be so apt to be jealous of
him, and to suspect him in things which lie beyond their
understandings. Itwould be no difficulty with them to trust
God out of sight. What horrid arrogance in worms of the
dust, that they should think they have wisdom enough to
examine and determine concerning what God doth, and to
pass sentence on it as unjust ! If you were sensible how
great and glorious a being God is, it would not be such a
difficulty with you to allow him the dignity of such abso
lute sovereignty, as that he should order as he pleases,
whether every single man should stand for himself, or
whether a common father should stand for all.
3. It is from mean thoughts of God, that you trust in
your own righteousness, and think that God ought to re
spect you for it. If vou knew how great a Being he is,
if you saw that he is God indeed, you would see how un
worthy, how miserable a present it is to be offered to such
a Being. It is because you are blind, and know not what
a Being he is with whom you have to do, that you make
so much of your own righteousness. If you had your
eyes open to see that he is God indeed, you would won
der how you could think to commend yourselves to so
great a Being by your gifts, by such poor affections, such
broken prayers, wherein is so much hypocrisy, and so
much selfishness. — If you had not very mean thoughts of
God, you would wonder that ever you could think of
purchasing the favour and love of so great a God by your
services. You would see that it would be unworthy of
God to bestow such a mercy upon you, as peace with
him, and his everlasting love, and the enjoyment of him
self, for such a price as you have to offer ; and that he
would exceedingly dishonour himself in so doing. — If you
saw what God is, you would exclaim, as Job did, Job
xiii. 5, 6. " Now mine eye seeth thee ; wherefore I abhor
myself, and repent in dust and ashes." And as Isaiah
did, chap. vi. 5. " Woe is me, for I am undone, because
I am a man of unclean lips ; for mine eyes have seen the
King, the Lord of hosts."
4. It is from mean thoughts of God, that you contend
with him, because he bestows grace on some, and not on
others. Thus God doth : he hath mercy on whom he will

have mercy ; he takes one, and leaves another, of those
who are in like circumstances ; as it is said of Jacob and
Esau, while they were not yet born, and had done neither
good nor evil, Rom. ix. 10—13. With this sinners often
quarrel ; but they who upon this ground quarrel with
God, suppose him to be bound to bestow his grace on sin
ners. For if he be bound to none, then he may take his
choice, and bestow it on whom he pleases ; and his be
stowing it on some brings no obligation on him to bestow
it on others. Has God no right to his own grace ? is it
not at his own disposal ? and is God incapable of making
a gift or present of it to any man ? for a person cannot
make a present of that which is not his own, or in his
own right. It is impossible to give a debt.
But what a low thought of God does this argue ! Con
sider what it is you would make of God. Must he be so
tied up, that he cannot use his own pleasure in bestowing
his own gifts ? Is he obliged to bestow them on one, be
cause it is his pleasure to bestow them on another ? Is
not God worthy to have the same right to dispose of his
gifts, as a man has of his money ? or is it because God is
not so great, and therefore should be more subject, more
under bounds, than men ? Is not God worthy to have as
absolute a propriety in his goods as man has in his ? At
this rate, God cannot make a present of any thing ; he has
nothing of his own to bestow. If he have a mind to show
a peculiar favour to some, to lay some under special ob
ligations, he cannot do it, on the supposition, because his
favour is not at his own disposal ! The truth is, men have
low thoughts of God, or else they would willingly ascribe
sovereignty to him in this matter. Matt. xx. 15. " Is it
not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own ? Is
thine eye evil, because I am good ?"
God is pleased to show mercy to his enemies, according
to his own sovereign pleasure. And surely it is fit he
should. How unreasonable is it to think that God stands
bound to his enemies ! Therefore consider what you do in
quarrelling with God, and opposing his sovereignty. Con
sider with whom it is you contend. Let all who are sen
sible of their misery, and afraid of the wrath of God,
consider these things. Those of you who have been long
seeking salvation, but are in great terrors through fear that
God will destroy you, consider what you have heard, be
still, and know that he is God. When God seems to turn
a deaf ear to your cries ; when he seems to frown upon
you ; when he shows mercy to others, your equals, or
those who are worse, and who have been seeking a less
time than you ; — be still. Consider who he is that dis
poses and orders these things. You shall consider it ; you
shall know it : he will make all men to know that he is
God. You shall either know it for your good here, by
submission, or to your cost hereafter.

SERMON IIL*
GREAT GUILT NO OBSTACLE TO THE PARDON OF THE RETURNING SINNER.

Psalm xxv. 11.
For thy name's sake, O Lord, pardon my iniquity ; for it
is great.
It is evident by some passages in this psalm, that when
it was penned, it was a time of affliction and danger with
David. This appeals particularly by the 15th and follow
ing verses : " Mine eyes are ever towards the Lord • for
he shall pluck my feet out of the net," &c. His distress
makes him think of his sins, and leads him to confess
them, and to cry to God for pardon, as is suitable in a
time of affliction. See ver. 7. " Remember not the sins
of my youth, nor my transgressions;" and verse 18.
* Not dated. All the Sermons in this collection which are not dated, are

" Look upon mine affliction, and my pain, and forgive all
my sins."
It is observable in the text, what arguments the psalm
ist makes use of in pleading for pardon.
1 . He pleads for pardon for God's name's sake. He
has no expectation of pardon for the sake of any righteous
ness or worthiness of his for any good deeds he had done,
or any compensation he had made for his sins ; though if
man's righteousness could be a just plea, David would
have had as much to plead as most. But he begs that
God would do it for his own name's sake, for his own
glory, for the glory of his own free grace, and for the
honour of his own covenant-faithfulness.
2. The psalmist pleads the greatness of his sins as an
supposed to have been written before the year 1733, as from that period our
author dated his Sermons.

Serm. III.

PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS.

ill

argument for mercy. He not only doth not plead his own
righteousness, or the smallness 6f his sins ; he not only
doth not say, Pardon mine iniquity, for I have done much
good to counterbalance it ; or, Pardon mine iniquity, for
it is small, and thou hast no great reason to be angry with
me ; mine iniquity is not so great, that thou hast any just
cause to remember it against me ; mine offence is not
such but that thou mayest well enough overlook it : but
on the contrary he says, Pardon mine iniquity, for it is
great : he pleads the greatness of his sin, and not the
smallness of it ; he enforces his prayer with this considera
tion, that his sins are very heinous.
But how could he make this a plea for pardon . I
answer, Because the greater his iniquity was, the more
need he had of pardon. It is as much as if he had said,
Pardon mine iniquity, for it is so great that I cannot bear
the punishment ; my sin is so great that I am in necessity
of pardon ; my case will be exceedingly miserable, unless
thou be pleased to pardon me. He makes use ofthe great
ness of his sin, to enforce his plea for pardon, as a man
would make use of the greatness of calamity in begging
for relief. When a beggar begs for bread, he will plead
the greatness of his poverty and necessity. When a man in
distress cries for pity, what more suitable plea can be
urged than the extremity of his case ? — And God allows
such a plea as this : for he is moved to mercy towards us
by nothing in us but the miserableness of our case. He
doth not pity sinners because they are worthy, but because
they need his pity.
Doctrine. If we truly come to God for mercy, the
greatness qf our sin will be no impediment to pardon. — If
it were an impediment, David would never have used it
as a plea for pardon, as we find he does in the text. — The
following things are needful in order that we truly come to
God for mercy :
I. That we should see our misery, and be sensible of our
need of mercy. They who are not sensible of their misery
cannot truly look to God for mercy ; for it is the very
notion of divine mercy, that it is the goodness and grace
of God to the miserable. Without misery in the object,
there can be no exercise of mercy. To suppose mercy
without supposing misery, or pity without calamity, is a
contradiction : therefore men cannot look upon themselves
as proper objects of mercy, unless they first know them-'
selves to be miserable ; and so, unless this be the case, it
is impossible that they should come to God for mercy.
They must be sensible that they are the children of wrath ;
that the law is against them, and that they are exposed to
the curse of it : that the wrath of God abideth on them ;
and that he is angry with them every day while they are
under the guilt of sin. — They must be sensible that it is a
very dreadful thing to be the object of the wrath of God ;
that it is a very awful thing to have him for their enemy ;
and that they cannot bear his wrath. They must be sen
sible that the guilt of sin makes them miserable creatures,
whatever temporal enjoyments they have ; that they can
be no other than miserable, undone creatures, so long as
God is angry with them ; that they are without strength,
and must perish, and that eternally, unless God help
them. They must see that their case is utterly desperate,
for any thing that any one else can do for them ; that they
hang over the pit of eternal misery ; and that they must
necessarily drop into it, if God have not mercy on them.
II. They must be sensible that they are not worthy that
God should have mercy on them. They who truly come
to God for mercy, come as beggars, and not as creditors :
they come for mere mercy, for sovereign grace, and not for
any thing that is due. Therefore, they must see that the
misery under which they lie is justly brought upon them,
and that the wrath to which they are exposed is justly
threatened against them ; and that they have deserved that
God should be their enemy, and should continue to be their
enemy. They must be sensible that it would be just with
God to do as he hath threatened in his holy law, viz.
make them the objects of his wrath and curse in hell to all
eternity. — They who come to God for mercy in a right
manner are not disposed to find fault with his severity ;
but they come in a sense of their own utter unworthiness,
as with ropes about their necks, and lying in the dust at
the foot of mercy.

III. They must come to God for mercy in and through
Jesus Christ alone. All their hope of mercy must be from
the consideration of what he is, what he hath done, and
what he hath suffered ; and that there is no other name
given under heaven, among men, whereby we can be
saved, but that of Christ; that he is the Son of God, and
the Saviour of the world ; that his blood cleanses from all
sin, and that he is so worthy, that all sinners who are in
him may well be pardoned and accepted.— It is impossible
that any should come to God for mercy, and at the same
time have no hope of mercy. Their coming to God for it,
implies that they have some hope of obtaining, otherwise
they would not think it worth the while to come. But
they that come in a right manner have all their hope
through Christ, or from the consideration of his redemp
tion, and the sufficiency of it. — If persons thus come to
God for mercy, the greatness of their sins will be no im
pediment to pardon. Let their sins be ever so many, and
treat, and aggravated, it will not make God in the least
egree more backward to pardon them. This may be
made evident by the following considerations :
1 . The mercy qf God is as sufficient for the pardon ot
the greatest sins, as for the least ; and that because his
mercy is infinite. That which is infinite, is as much above
what is great, as it is above what is small. Thus God
being infinitely great, he is as much above kings as he is
above beggars ; he is as much above the highest angel, as
he is above the meanest worm. One infinite measure
doth not come any nearer to the extent of what is infinite
than another  So the mercy of God being infinite, it must
be as sufficient for the pardon of all sin, as of one. If one
of the least sins be not beyond the mercy of God, so
neither are the greatest, or ten thousand of them. — How
ever, it must be acknowledged, that this alone doth not
prove the doctrine. For though the mercy of God may
be as sufficient for the pardon of great sins as others ; yet
there may be other obstacles, besides the want of mercy.
The mercy of God may be sufficient, and yet the other at
tributes may oppose the dispensation of mercy in these
cases. — Therefore I observe,
2. That the satisfaction of Christ is as sufficient for the
removal of the greatest guilt, as the least: 1 John i. 7.
" The blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin." Acts xiii.
39. " By him all that believe are justified from all things
from which ye could not be justified by the law of Moses."
AU the sins of those who truly come to God for mercy,
let them be what they will, are satisfied for, if God be true
who tells us so ; and if they be satisfied for, surely it is not
incredible, that God should be ready to pardon them. So
that Christ having fully satisfied for all sin, or having
wrought out a satisfaction that is sufficient for all, it is now
no way inconsistent with the glory of the divine attributes
to pardon the greatest sins of those who in a right manner
come unto him for it. — God may now pardon the greatest
sinners without any prejudice to the honour of his holi
ness. The holiness of God will not suffer him to give the
least countenance to sin, but inclines him to give proper
testimonies of his hatred of it. But Christ having satisfied
for sin, God can now love the sinner, and give no counte
nance at all to sin, however great a sinner he may have
been. It was a sufficient testimony of God's abhorrence
of sin, that he poured out his wrath on his own dear Son,
when he took the guilt of it upon himself. Nothing can
more show God's abhorrence of sin than this. If all man
kind had been eternally damned, it would not have been
so great a testimony of it.
God may, through Christ, pardon the greatest sinner
without any prejudice to the honour of his majesty. The
honour of the divine majesty indeed requires satisfaction ;
but the sufferings of Christ fully repair the injury. Let
the contempt be ever so great, yet if so honourable a per
son as Christ undertakes to be a Mediator for the offender,
and suffers so much for him, it fully repairs the injury
done to the Majesty of heaven and earth. The sufferings
of Christ fully satisfy justice. The justice of God, as the
supreme Governor and Judge of the world, requires the
punishment of sin. The supreme Judge must judge the
world according to a rule of justice. God doth not show
mercy as a judge, but as a sovereign; therefore his exer
cise of mercy as a sovereign, and his justice as a judge,

112

SEVEN SERMONS.

must be made consistent one with another ; and this is
done by the sufferings of Christ, in which sin is punished
fully, and justice answered. Rom. iii. 25, 26. " Whom
God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his
blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins
that are past, through the forbearance of God ; to declare,
I say, at this time, his righteousness ; that he might be
just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." —
The law is no impediment in the way ofthe pardon ofthe
greatest sin, if men do but truly come to God for mercy :
for Christ hath fulfilled the law, he hath borne the curse
of it, in his sufferings ; Gal. iii. 13. " Christ hath redeemed
us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us ;
for it is written, Cursed is every one that bangeth on a
tree." 3. Christ will not refuse to save the greatest sinners,
who in a right manner come to God for mercy ; for this
is his work. It is his business to be a Saviour of sinners ;
it is the work upon which he came into the world ; and
therefore he will not object to it. He did not come to call
the righteous, but sinners to repentance, Matt. ix. 13. Sin
is the very evil which he came into the world to remedy :
therefore he will not object to any man, that he is very
sinful. The more sinful he is, the more need of Christ.
— The sinfulness of man was the reason of Christ's coming
into the world ; this is the very misery from which he
came to deliver men. The more they have of it, the
more need they have of being delivered; "They that are
whole need not a physician, but they that are sick," Matt.
ix. 12. The physician will not make it an objection
against healing a man who applies to him, that he stands
in great need of his help. If a physician of compassion
comes among the sick and wounded, surely he will not
refuse to heal those that stand in most need of healing, if
he be able to heal them .
4. Herein doth the glory qf grace by the redemption of
Christ much consist, viz. in its sufficiency for the pardon
of the greatest sinners. The whole contrivance of the
way of salvation is for this end, to glorify the free grace
of God. God had it on his heart from all eternity to
glorify this attribute ; and therefore it is, that the device
of saving sinners by Christ was conceived. The greatness
of divine grace appears very much in this, that God by
Christ saves the greatest offenders. The greater the guilt
of any sinner is, the more glorious and wonderful is the
grace manifested in his pardon : Rom. v. 20. " Where
sin abounded, grace did much more abound." The apostle,
when telling how great a sinner he had been, takes notice
of the abounding of grace in his pardon, of which his
great guilt was the occasion : 1 Tim. i. 13. " Who was
before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious.
But I obtained mercy ; and the grace of our Lord was
exceeding abundant, with faith and love which is in Christ
Jesus." The Redeemer is glorified, in that he proves suf
ficient to redeem those who are exceeding sinful, in that
his blood proves sufficient to wash away the greatest guilt,
in that he is able to save men to the uttermost, and in
that he redeems even from the greatest misery. It is the
honour of Christ to save the greatest sinners, when they
come to him, as it is the honour of a physician that he
cures the most desperate diseases or wounds. Therefore,
no doubt, Christ will be willing to save the greatest
sinners, if they come to him ; for he will not be backward
to glorify himself, and to commend the value and virtue
of his own blood. Seeing he hath so laid out himself to
redeem sinners, he will not be unwilling to show, that he
is able to redeem to the uttermost.
5. Pardon is as much offered and promised to the greatest
sinners as any, if they wili come aright to God for mercy.
The invitations of the gospel are always in universal
terms : as, Ho, every one that thirsteth ; Come unto me,
all ye that labour and are heavy laden ; and, Whosoever
will, let him come. And the voice of Wisdom is to men
in general : Prov. viii. 4. "Unto you, O men, I call, and
my voice is to the sons of men." Not to moral men, or
religious men, but to you, O men. So Christ promises,
John vi. 37. "Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out." This is the direction of Christ to his apostles,
after his resurrection, Mark xvi. 15, 16. "Go ye into all
the world, and preach . the gospel to every creature : he

that believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved. Which
is agreeable to what the apostie saith, that " the gospel
was preached to every creature which is under heaven,"
Col. i. 23. APPLICATION.
The proper use of this subject is, to encourage sinners
whose consciences are burdened with a sense of guilt, im
mediately to go to God through Christ for mercy. If you
go in the manner we have described, the arms of mercy
are open to embrace you. You need not be at all the
more fearful of coming because of your sins, let them be
ever so black. If you had as much guilt lying on each of
your souls as all the wicked men in the world, and all the
damned souls in hell ; yet if you come to God for mercy,
sensible of your own vileness, and seeking pardon only
through the free mercy of God in Christ, you would not
need to be afraid ; the greatness of your sins would be no
impediment to your pardon. Therefore, if your souls be
burdened, and you are distressed for fear of hell, you need
not bear that burden and distress any longer. If you are
but willing, you may freely come and unload yourselves,
and cast aU your burdens on Christ, and rest in him.
But here I shall speak to some objections which some
awakened sinners may be ready to make against what I
now exhort them to.
I. Some may be ready to object, I have spent my
youth and all the best of my life in sin, and I am afraid
God will not accept of me, when I offer him only mine
old age. — To this I would answer, — 1. Hath God said
any where, that he will not accept of old sinners who
come to him ? God hath often made offers and promises
in universal terms ; and is there any such exception put
in ? Doth Christ say, All that thirst, let them come to me
and drink, except old sinners? Come to me, all ye that
labour and are heavy laden, except old sinners, and 1 wiil
give you rest ? Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out, if he be not an old sinner ? Did you ever read
any such exception any where in the Bible ? and why
should you give way to exceptions which you make out of
your own heads, or rather which the devil puts into your
heads, and which have no foundation in the word of God 1
— Indeed it is more rare that old sinners are willing to
come, than others ; but if they do come, they are as
readily accepted as any whatever.
, 2. When God accepts of young persons, it is not for
the sake of the service which they are like to do him
afterwards, or because youth is better worth accepting than
old age. You seem entirely to mistake the matter, in
thinking that God will not accept of you because you are
old ; as though he readily accepted of persons in their
youth, because their youth is better worth his acceptance ;
whereas it is only for the sake of Jesus Christ, that God
is willing to accept of any.
You say, your life is almost spent, and you are afraid
that the best time for serving God is past ; and that there
fore God will not now accept of you ; as if it were for the
sake of the service which persons are like to do him, after
they are converted, that he accepts of them. But a self-
righteous spirit is at the bottom of such objections. Men
cannot get off from the notion, that it is for some goodness
or service of their own, either done or expected to be done,
that God accepts of persons, and receives them into
favour.— Indeed they who deny God their youth, the best
part of their lives, and spend "it in the service of Satan,
dreadfully sin and provoke God ; and he very often leaves
them to hardness of heart, when they are grown old. But
if they are willing to accept of Christ when old, he is as
ready to receive them as any others ; for in that matter
God hath respect only to Christ and his worthiness.
II. But I am afraid that I have committed sins that
are peculiar to reprobates. I have sinned against light,
and strong convictions of conscience ; I have sinned pre
sumptuously ; and have so resisted the strivings of the
Spirit of God, that I am afraid I have committed such
sins as none of God's elect ever commit. I cannot think
that God will ever leave one whom he intends to save, to
go on and commit sins against so much light and convic
tion, and with such horrid presumption.— Others may

Serm. III.

PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS.

say, I have had risings of heart against God ; blasphemous
thoughts, a spiteful and malicious spirit ; and have abused
mercy and the strivings of the Spirit, trampled upon the
Saviour, and my sins are such as are peculiar to those
who are reprobated to eternal damnation. To all this I
would answer,
1 . There is no sin peculiar to reprobates but the sin
against the Holy Ghost. Do you read of any other in the
word of God ? And if you do not read of any there,
what ground have you to think any such thing '? What
other rule have we, by which to judge of such matters,
but the divine word ? If we venture to go beyond that, we
shall be miserably in the dark. When we pretend to go
further in our determinations than the word of God, Satan
takes us up, and leads us. It seems to you that such sins
are peculiar to the reprobate, and such as God never for
gives. But what reason can you give for it, if you have
no word of God to reveal it ? Is it because you cannot see
how the mercy of God is sufficient to pardon, or the blood
of Christ to cleanse from such presumptuous sins ? If so,
it is because you never yet saw how great the mercy of
God is ; you never saw the sufficiency of the blood of
Christ, and you know not how far the virtue of it extends.
Some elect persons have been guilty of all manner of sins,
except the sin against the Holy Ghost ; and unless you
have been guilty of this, you have not been guilty of any
that are peculiar to reprobates.
2. Men may be less likely to believe, for sins which
they have committed, and not the less readily pardoned
when they do believe. It must be acknowledged that
some sinners are in more danger of hell than others.
Though all are in great danger, some are less likely to be
saved. Some are less likely ever to be converted and to
come to Christ : but all who do come to him are alike
readily accepted ; and there is as much encouragement for
one man to come to Christ as another. — Such sins as you
mention are indeed exceeding heinous and provoking to
God, and do in an especial manner bring the soul into
danger of damnation, and into danger of being given to
final hardness of heart; and God more commonly gives
men up to the judgment of final hardness for such sins,
than for others. Yet they are not peculiar to reprobates ;
there is but one sin that is so, viz. that against the Holy
Ghost. And notwithstanding the sins which you have
committed, if you can find it in your hearts to come to
Christ, and close with him, you will be accepted not at all
the less readily because you have committed such sins. —
Though God doth more rarely cause some sorts of sinners
to come to Christ than others, it is not because his mercy
or the redemption of Christ is not as sufficient for them as

113
others, but because in wisdom he sees fit so to dispense his
grace, for a restraint upon the wickedness of men ; and be
cause it is his will to give converting grace in the use of
means, among which this is one, viz. to lead a moral and re
ligious life, and agreeable to our light, and the convictions
of our consciences. But when once any sinner is willing
to come to Christ, mercy is as ready for him as for any.
There is no consideration at all had of his sins ; let him
have been ever so sinful, his sins are not remembered ;
God doth not upbraid him with them.
III. But had I not better stay till I shall have made
myself better, before I presume to come to Christ. I have
been, and see myself to be very wicked now ; but am in
hopes of mending myself, and rendering myself at least not
so wicked : then I shall have more courage to come to
God for mercy. — In answer to this,
1 . Consider how unreasonably you act. You are striv
ing to set up yourselves for your own saviours ; you are
striving to get something of your own, on the account of
which you may the more readily be accepted. So that by
this it appears that you do not seek to be accepted only on
Christ's account. And is not this to rob Christ of the
glory of being your only Saviour ? Yet this is the way in
which you are hoping to make Christ willing to save you.
2. You can never come to Christ at all, unless you first
see that he will not accept of you the more readily for any
thing that you can do. You must first see, that it is ut
terly in vain for you to try to make yourselves better on
any such account. You must see that you can never make
yourselves any more worthy, or less unworthy, by any
thing which you can perform.
3. If ever you truly come to Christ, you must see that
there is enough in him for your pardon, though you be no
better than you are. If you see not the sufficiency of
Christ to pardon you, without any righteousness of your
own to recommend you, you never will come so as to be
accepted of him. The way to be accepted is to come —
not on any such encouragement, that now you have made
yourselves better, and more worthy, or not so unworthy,
but — on the mere encouragement of Christ's worthiness,
and God's mercy.
4. If ever you truly come to Christ, you must come to
him to make you better. You must come as a patient
comes to his physician, with his diseases or wounds to be
cured. ¦ Spread all your wickedness before him, and do not
plead your goodness ; but plead your badness, and your
necessity on that account : and say, as the psalmist in the
text, not Pardon mine iniquity, for it is not so great as it
was, but, " Pardon mine iniquity, for it is great."

SERMON IV.*

THE MOST HIGH A PRAYER-HEARING GOD.

Psalm Ixv. 2.
0 thou tliat hearest prayer.
This psalm seems to be written, either as a psalm of
praise to God for some remarkable answer of prayer, in the
bestowment of some public mercy ; or else on occasion of
some special faith and confidence which David had that
his prayer would be answered. It is probable that this
mercy bestowed, or expected to be bestowed, was some
great public mercy, for which David had been very earnest
and importunate, and had annexed a vow to his prayer;
and that he had vowed to God, that if he would grant him
his request he would render him praise and glory. — This
seems to be the reason why he expresses himself as he does
in the first verse of the psalm : " Praise waiteth for thee,

* Dated January 8, 1735-
VOL. ii.

Preached on a fast appointed on the ac-
1

O God, in Sion ; and unto thee shall the vow be per
formed ;" ('. e. that praise which I have vowed to give thee,
on the answer of my prayer, waiteth for thee, to be given
thee as soon as thou shalt have answered my prayer; and
the vow which I made to thee shall be performed.
In the verse of the text, there is a prophecy of the glo
rious times of the gospel, when "all flesh shall come"
to the true God, as to the God who heareth prayer ; which
is here mentioned as what distinguishes the true God from
the gods to whom the nations prayed and sought, those
gods who cannot hear, and cannot answer their prayer. The
lime was coming when all flesh should come to that God
who doth hear prayer. — Hence we gather this doctrine,
That it is the character qf the Most High, that he is a God
who hears prayer.
count of an epidemical sickness at the eastward (of Boston.)

114

SEVEN SERMONS.

I shall handle this point in the following method :
1 . Show that the Most High is a God that hears prayer.
2. That he is eminently such a God.
3. That herein he is distinguished from all false gods.
4. Give the reasons of the doctrine.
I. The Most High is a God that hears prayer. Though
he is infinitely above all, and stands in no need of crea
tures; yet he is graciously pleased lo take a merciful notice
of poor worms of the dust. He manifests and presents
himself as the object of prayer, appears as sitting on a
meicy-seat, that men may come to him by prayer. When
they stand in need of any thing, he allows them to come,and
ask it of him ; and he is wont to hear their prayers. God in
his word hath given many promises that he will hear their
prayers ; the Scripture is full of such examples ; and in his
dispensations towards his church, manifests himself to be
a God that hears prayerT"
Here it may be inquired, What is meant by God's hear
ing prayer ? There are two things implied in it.
1. His accepting the supplications of those who pray to
him. Their address to him is well taken, he is well pleased
with it. He approves of their asking such mercies as they
request of him, and approves of their manner of doing it.
He accepts of iheir prayers as an offering to him : he ac
cepts the honour they do him in prayer.
2. He acts agreeably to his acceptance. He sometimes
manifests his acceptance of their prayers, by special disco
veries of his mercy and sufficiency, which he makes to
them in prayer, or immediately after. While they are
praying, he gives them sweet views of his glorious grace,
purity, sufficiency, and sovereignty ; and enables them,
with great quietness, to rest in him, to leave themselves
and their prayers with him, submitting to his will, and
trusting in his grace and faithfulness. Such a manifesta
tion God seems to have made of himself in prayer to
Hannah, which quieted and composed her mind, and took
away her sadness. We read (1 Sam. i.) how earnest she
was, and how exercised in her mind, and that she was a
woman of a sorrowful spirit. But she came and poured
out her soul before God, and spake out of the abundance
of her complaint and grief; then we read, that she went
away, and did eat, and her countenance was no more sad,
ver. 13. which seems to have been from some refreshing
discoveries which God had made of himself to her, to en
able her quietly to submit to his will, and trust in his
mercy, whereby God manifested his acceptance of her. —
Not that I conclude persons can hence argue, that the
particular thing which they ask will certainly be given
them, or that they can particularly foretell from it what
God will do in answer to their pravers, any further than
he has promised in his word ; yet God may, and doubt
less does, thus testify his acceptance of their prayers, and
from hence they may confidently rest in his providence, in
his merciful ordering and disposing, with respect to the
thing which they ask. — Again, God manifests his accept
ance of their prayers, by doing for them agreeably to their
needs and supplications. He not only inwardly and spi
ritually discovers his mercy to their souls by his Spirit,
but outwardly by dealing mercifully with them in his
providence, in consequence of their prayers, and by causing
an agreeableness between his providence and their prayers.
 1 proceed now,
II. lb show that the Most High is eminently a God
that hears prayer. This appears in several things.
1. In his giving such free access to him by prayer. God
in his word manifests himself ready at all times to allow
us this privilege. He sits on a throne of grace ; and there
is no veil to hide this throne, and keep us from it. The
veil is rent from the top to the bottom ; the way is open
at all times, and we may go to God as often as we please.
Although God be infinitely above us, yet we may come
with boldness : Heb. iv. 14, 16. " Let us therefore come
boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain
mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." How
wonderful is it that such worms as we should be allowed
to come boldly at all times to so great a God ! — Thus God
indulges all kinds of persons, of all nations, 1 Cor. i. 2, 3.
" Unto all that in every place call on the name of Jesus
Christ our Lord, both theirs and ours; grace be unto

&c. Yea, God allows tho most vile and unworthy;

you, the greatest sinners are

„, ,.,„  - allowed to come through Christ.
And he not only allows, but encourages, and frequently
invites them; yea, manifests himself as delighting m
bein" sought to by prayer: Prov. xv. 8. "The prayer of
the upright is his delight ;" and in Cant. n. 14. we have
Christ saying to the spouse, " O my dove, let me hear thy
voice ; for sweet is thy voice." The voice of the saints in
prayer is sweet unto Christ ; he delights to hear it. He
allows them to be earnest and importunate; yea, to the
degree as to take no denial, and as it were to give him no
rest, and even encouraging them so to do : Isa. lxii. 6, 7.
" Ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence, and
give him no rest." Thus Christ encourages us, in the pa
rable of the importunate widow and the unjust judge, Luke
xviii. So, in the parable of the man who went to his friend
at midnight, Luke xi. 5, &c.
Thus God allowed Jacob to wrestle with him, yea, to
be resolute in it ; "I will not let thee go, except thou
bless me." It is noticed with approbation, when men are
violent for the kingdom of heaven, and take it by force.
Thus Christ suffered the blind man to be most impor
tunate and unceasing in his cries to him, Luke xviii. 38,
39. He continued crying, " Jesus, thou Son of David,
have mercy on me." Others who were present rebuked
him, that he should hold his peace, looking upon it as too
great a boldness, and an indecent behaviour towards
Christ, thus to cry after him as he passed by. But Christ
did not rebuke him, but stood, and commanded him to be
brought unto him, saying, " What wilt thou that I should
do to thee ?" And when the blind man had told him,
Christ graciously granted his request. — The freedom of
access that God gives, appears also in allowing us to come
to him by prayer for every thing we need, both temporal
and spiritual ; whatever evil we need to be delivered from,
or good we would obtain : Phil. iv. 6. " Be careful for
nothing, but in every thing by prayer and supplication,
with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to
God." 2. That God is eminently of this character, appears in
his hearing prayer so readily. He often manifests his
readiness to hear prayer, by giving an answer so speedily,
sometimes while they are yet speaking, and sometimes
before they pray, when they only have a design of pray
ing. So ready is God to hear prayer, that he takes notice
of the first purpose of praying, and sometimes bestows
mercy thereupon : Isa. lxv. 24. " And it shall come to
pass," that before they call, I will answer; and while they
are yet speaking, I will hear." We read, that when Daniel
was making humble and earnest supplication, God sent
an angel to comfort him, and to assure him of an answer,
Dan. ix. 20 — 24. When God defers for the present to
answer the prayer of faith, it is not from any backward
ness to answer, but for the good of his people sometimes,
that they may be better prepared for the mercy before they
receive it, or because another time would be the best and
fittest on some other account : and even then, when God
seems to delay an answer, the answer is indeed hastened,
as in Luke xviii. 7, 8. " And shall not God avenge his
own elect, which cry day and night unto him, though he
bear long with them ? I tell you, that he will avenge them
speedily." Sometimes, when the blessing seems to tarry,
God is even then at work to bring it about in the best
time and the best manner : Hab. ii. 3. " Though it tarry,
wait for it ; it will come, it will not tarry."
3. That the Most High is eminently one that hears
prayer, appears by his giving so liberally in answer to
prayer; Jam. i. 5, 6. "If any of you lack wisdom, let
him ask of God, who giveth to all liberally, and up
braideth not." Men often show their backwardness to
give, both by the scantiness of their gifts, and by upbraid
ing those who ask of them. They will be sure to put
them in mind of some faults, when they give them any
thing ; but, on the contrary, God both gives liberally, and
upbraids us not with our undeservings. He is plenteous
and rich in his communications to those who call upon
him : Psal. lxxxvi. 5. " For thou art good and ready to
forgive, and plenteous in mercy unto all that call upon
thee;" and Rom. x. 12. "For there is no difference be
tween the Jew and the Greek ; for the same Lord over all

Serm. IV.

THE MOST HIGH A PRAYER-HEARING GOD.

115

is rich unto all that call upon him." — Sometimes, God
not only gives the thing asked, but he gives them more
than is asked. So he did to Solomon, 1 Kings iii. 12, 13.
" Behold, I have done according to thy words : lo, I have
given thee a wise and an understanding heart, so that there
was none like thee before thee, neither after thee shall any
arise like unto thee. And I have also given thee that which
thou hast not asked, both riches and honour ; so that there
shall not be any among the kings like unto thee, all thy
days." Yea, God will give more to his people than they
can either ask or think, as is implied in Ephes. iii. 20.
" Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly
above all that we ask or think."
4. That God is eminently of this character, appears by
the greatness of the things which he hath often done in
answer to prayer. Thus, when Esau was coming out
against his brother Jacob, with four hundred men, without
doubt fully resolved to cut him off, Jacob prayed and
God turned the heart of Esau, so that he met Jacob in a
very friendly manner ; Gen. xxxii. So in Egypt, at the
prayer of Moses, God brought those dreadful plagues, and
at his prayer removed them again. When Samson was
ready to perish with thirst, he prayed to God, and he
brought water out of a dry jaw-bone, for his supply, Judg.
xv. 18, 19. And when he prayed, after his strength was
departed from him, God strengthened him, so as to pull
down the temple of Dagon on the Philistines : so that
those whom he slew at his death were more than all those
whom he slew in his life. — Joshua prayed to God, and
said, " Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon, and thou,
Moon, in the valley of Ajalon;" and God heard his
prayer, and caused the sun and moon to stand still accord
ingly. The prophet " Elijah was a man of like passion "
with us ; " and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain ;
and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years
and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven
gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit ;" as the
apostle James observes, Jam. v. 17, 18. So God con
founded the army of Zerah, the Ethiopian, of a thousand
thousand, in answer to the prayer of Asa, 2 Chron. xiv. 9,
&c. And God sent an angel, and slew in one night an
hundred and eighty-five thousand men of Sennacherib's
army, in answer to Hezekiah's prayer, 2 Kings xix. 14 —
16, 19, 35.
5. This truth appears, in that God is, as it were, over
come by prayer. When God is displeased by sin, he mani
fests his displeasure, comes out against us in his provi
dence, and seems to oppose and resist us ; in such cases,
God is, speaking after the manner of men, overcome by
humble and fervent prayer. " The effectual fervent prayer
of a righteous man availeth much," Jam. v. 16. It has a
great power in it ; such a prayer-hearing God is the Most
High, that he graciously manifests himself as conquered
by it. Thus God appeared to oppose Jacob in what he
sought of him ; yet Jacob was resolute, and overcame.
Therefore God changed his name from Jacob to Israel ;
for, says he, " as a prince thou hast power with God and
with men, and hast prevailed." Gen. xxxii. 28. A mighty
prince indeed ! Hos. xii. 4. " Yea, he had power over the
angel, and prevailed : he wept and made supplication
unto him."- — When his anger was provoked against Israel,
and he appeared to be ready to consume them in his hot
displeasure, Moses stood in the gap, and by his humble
and earnest prayer and supplication averted the stroke of
divine vengeance, Exod. xxxii. 9, Scc.and Numb. xiv. 1 1 , &c.
III. Herein the most high God is distinguished from
false gods. The true God is the only one of this charac
ter ; there is no other of whom it may be said, that he
heareth prayer.
Many of those things that are worshipped as gods are
idols made by their worshippers ; mere stocks and stones
that know nothing. They are indeed made with ears ;
but they hear not the prayers of them that cry to them.
They have eyes ; but they see not, &c. Psal. cxv. 5, 6 —
Others, though not the work of men's hands, yet are things
without life. Thus, many worship the sun, moon, and
stars, which, though glorious creatures, yet are not capable
of knowing any thing ofthe wants and desires of those who
pray to them.— Some worship certain kinds of animals, as
the Egyptians were wont to worship bulls, which, though
I 2

not without life, yet are destitute of that reason whereby
they would be capable of knowing the requests of their
worshippers. Others worship devils instead of tlie true
God : 1 Cor. x. 20. " But 1 say, that the things which
the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils." These,
though beings of great powers, have not knowledge neces
sary to capacitate them fully to understand the state,
circumstances, necessities, and desires of those who pray to
them. But the true God perfectly knows the circumstances
of every one that prays to him throughout the world.
Though millions pray to him at once, in different parts of
the world, it is no more difficult for him who is infinite in
knowledge, to take notice of all than of one alone. God
is so perfect in knowledge, that he doth not need to be in
formed by us, in order to a knowledge of our wants ; for
he knows what things we need before we ask him. The
worshippers of false gods were wont to lift their voices and
cry aloud, lest their gods should fail of hearing them, as
Elijah tauntingly bid the worshippers of Baal do, 1 Kings
xviii. 27. But the true God hears the silent petitions of
his people. He needs not that we should cry aloud ; yea,
he knows and perfectly understands when we only pray in
our hearts, as Hannah did, 1 Sam. i. 13.
Idols are but vanities and lies ; in them is no help. As
to power or knowledge, they are nothing ; as the apostle
says, 1 Cor. viii. 4. "An idol is nothing in the world."
As to images, they are so far from having power to answer
prayer, that they are not able to act, " They have hands,
and handle not ; feet have they, but they walk not ; neither
speak they through their throat." They, therefore, that
make them and pray to them, are senseless and sottish,
and make themselves, as it were, stocks and stones, like
unto them : Psal. cxv. 7, 8. and Jer. x. 5. " They are up
right as the palm tree, but speak not : they must needs
be borne, because they cannot go. Be not afraid of them ;
for they cannot do evil ; neither also is it in them to do
good." As to the hosts of heaven, the sun, moon, and
stars, although mankind receive benefit by them, yet they
act only by necessity of nature ; therefore they have no
power to do any thing in answer to prayers. And devils,
though worshipped as gods, are not able, if they had dis
position, to make those happy who worship them, and
can do nothing at all but by divine permission, and as
subject to the disposal of Divine Providence. When the
children of Israel departed from the true God to idols, and
yet cried to him in their distress, he reproved them for
their folly, by bidding them cry to the gods whom they
had served, for deliverance in the time of their tribulation.
Josh. x. 14. So God challenges those gods themselves,
Isa. xii. 23, 24. " Show the things that are to come here
after, that we may know that ye are gods ; yea, do good,
or do evil, that we may be dismayed and behold it to
gether. Behold, ye are of nothing, and your work of
nought ; an abomination is he that chooseth you." — These
false gods, instead of helping those who pray to them,
cannot help themselves. The devils are miserable torment
ed spirits ; they are bound in chains of darkness for their
rebellion against the true God, and cannot deliver them
selves. Nor have they any more disposition- to help man
kind, than a parcel of hungry wolves or lions would have
to protect and help a flock of lambs. And those that
worship and pray to them get not their good-will by serv
ing them : all the reward that Satan will give them for
the service which they do him, is to devour them. — I pro
ceed now,
IV. To give the reasons of the doctrine ; which I would
do in answer to these two inquiries : first, Why God re
quires prayer in order to the bestowment of mercies, and
secondly, Why God is so ready to hear the prayers of
men? Inq. I. Why doth God require prayer in order to the
bestowment of mercies ?
It is not in order that God may be informed of our
wants or desires. He is omniscient, and with respect to
his knowledge unchangeable. God never gains any
knowledge by information. He knows what we want, a
thousand times more perfectly than we do ourselves,
before we ask him. For though, speaking after the man
ner of men, God is sometimes represented as if he were
moved and persuaded by the prayers of his people ; yet it

110

SEVEN SERMONS.

-is not to be thought that God is properly moved or made
willing by our prayers ; for it is no more possible that
there should be any new inclination or will in God, than
new knowledge. The mercy of God is not moved or
drawn by any thing in the 'creature ; but the spring of
God's beneficence is within himself only ; he is self-
moved ; and whatsoever mercy he bestows, the reason and
ground of it is not to be sought for in the creature, but in
God's own good pleasure. It is the will of God to bestow
mercy in this way, viz. in answer to prayer, when he
designs beforehand to bestow mercy, yea, when he has
promised it; as Ezek. xxxvi. 36, 37. " I the Lord have
spoken it, and will do it. Thus saith the Lord, I will yet
for this be inquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for
them." God has been pleased to constitute prayer to be
antecedent to the bestowment of mercy ; and he is pleased
to bestow mercy in consequence of prayer, as though he
were prevailed on by prayer. — When the people of God
are stirred up to prayer, it is the effect of his intention to
show mercy ; therefore he pours out the spirit of grace and
supplication. There may be two reasons given why God requires
prayer in order to the bestowment of mercy ; one especi
ally respects God, and the other respects ourselves.
1 . With respect to God, prayer is but a sensible ac
knowledgment of our dependence on him to his glory.
As he hath made all things for his own glory, so he will
be glorified and acknowledged by his creatures ; and it is
fit that be should require this of those who would be the
subjects of his mercy. That we, when we desire to receive
any mercy from him, should humbly supplicate the Divine
Being for the. bestowment of that mercy, is but a suitable
acknowledgment of our dependence on the power and
mercy of God for that which we need, and but a suitable
honour paid to the great Author and Fountain of all good.
2. With respect to ourselves, God requires prayer of us
in order to the bestowment of mercy, because it tends to
prepare us for its reception. Fervent prayer many ways
tends to prepare the heart. Hereby is excited a sense of
our need, and of the value of the mercy which we seek,
and at the same time earnest desires for it ; whereby the
mind is more prepared to prize it, to rejoice in it when
bestowed, and to be thankful for it. Prayer, with suitable
confession, may excite a sense of our unworthiness of the
mercy we seek ; and the placing of ourselves in the
immediate presence of God, may make us sensible of his
majesty, and in a sense fit to receive mercy of him. Our
prayer to God may excite in us a suitable sense and con
sideration of our dependence on God for the mercy we
ask, and a suitable exercise of faith in God's sufficiency,
that so we may be prepared to glorify his name when the
mercy is received.
Inq. II. Why is God so ready to hear the prayers of
men ? — To this I answer,
1 . Because he is a God of infinite grace and mercy. It
is indeed a very wonderful thing, that so great a God
should be so ready to hear our prayers, though we are so
despicable and unworthy : that he should give free access
at all times to every one ; should allow us to be impor
tunate without esteeming it an indecent boldness ; should
be so rich in mercy to them that call upon him ; that
worms of the dust should have such power with God by
prayer ; that he should do such great things in answer to
their prayers, and should show himself, as it were, over
come by them. This is very wonderful, when we consider
the distance between God and us, and how we have pro
voked him by our sins, and how unworthy we are of the
least gracious notice. It cannot be from any need that
God stands in of us ; for our goodness extendeth not to
him. Neither can it be from any thing in us to incline the
heart of God to us ; it cannot be from any worthiness in
our prayers, which are in themselves polluted things. But
it is because God delights in mercy and condescension.
He is herein infinitely distinguished from all other gods :
he is the great fountain of all good, from whom goodness
flows as light from the sun.
2. We have a glorious Mediator, who has prepared the
way, that our prayers may he heard consistently with the
honour of God's justice and majesty. Not only has God
in himself mercy sufficient for this, but the Mediator has

provided that this mercy may be exercised consistently with
the divine honour. Through him we may come to God
for mercy ; he is the way, the truth, and the life ; no man
can come to the Father but by him. This Mediator hath
done three things to make way for the hearing of our
prayers. (1.) He hath by his blood made atonement for sm ; so
that our guilt need not stand in the way, as a separating
wall between God and us, and that our sins might not be
a cloud through which our prayers cannot pass. By his
atonement he hath made the way to the throne of grace
open. God would have been infinitely gracious if there
had been no Mediator ; but the way to the mercy-seat
would have been blocked up. But Christ hath removed
whatever stood in the way. The veil which was before the
mercy-seat " is rent from the top to the bottom," by the
death of Christ. If it had not been for this, our guilt
would have remained as a wall of brass to hinder our
approach. But all is removed by his blood, Heb. x.
17, &c.
(2.) Christ, by his obedience, has purchased this privi
lege, viz. that the prayers of those who believe in him
should be heard. He has not only removed the obstacles
to our prayers, but has merited a hearing of them. His
merits are the incense that is offered with the prayers of
the saints, which renders them a sweet savour to God, and
acceptable in his sight. Hence the prayers of the saints
have such power with God ; hence at the prayer of a poor
worm of the dust God stopped the sun in his course for
about the space of a whole day ; hence Jacob as a prince
had power with God; and prevailed. Our prayers would
be of no account, and of no avail with God, were it not
for the merits of Christ.
(3.) Christ enforces the prayers of his people, by his
intercession at the right hand of God in heaven. He hath
entered for us into the holy of holies, with the incense
which he hath provided, and there he makes continual
intercession for all that come to God in his name ; so that
their prayers come to God the Father through his hands, if
I may so say; which is represented in Rev. viii. 3,4.
" And another angel came and stood at the altar, having a
golden censer; and there was given unto him much
incense, that he should offer it with the prayers of all the
saints upon the golden altar, which is before the throne.
And the smoke of the incense which came with the
prayers of the saints, ascended up before God, out of the
angel's hand." — This was typified of old by the priest's
offering incense in the temple, at the time when the people
were offering up their prayers to God ; as Luke i. 10.
" And the whole multitude of the people were praying
without at the time of incense."

APPLICATION.
Hence we may learn how highly we are privileged,
in that we have the Most High revealed to us, who
is a God that heareth prayer. The greater part of
mankind are destitute of this privilege. Whatever their
necessities are, whatever their calamities or sorrows, thev
have no prayer-hearing God to whom they may go. If
they go to the gods whom they worship, and cry to them
ever so earnestly, it will be in vain. They worship either
lifeless things, that can neither help them, nor know that
they need help ; or wicked cruel spirits, who are their
enemies, and wish nothing but their misery ; and who,
instead of helping them, are from day to day working their
ruin, and watching over them as a hungry lion watches
over his prey.
How are we distinguished from them, in that we have
the true God made known to us ; a God of infinite grace
and mercy ; a God full of compassion to the miserable,
who is ready to pity us under all our troubles and sorrows,
to hear our cries, and to give us all the relief which we
need ; a God who delights in mercy, and is rich unto all
that call upon him ! How highly privileged are we, in that
we have the holy word of this same God, to direct us how
to seek for mercy ! And whatever difficulties or distress
we are in, we may go to him with confidence and great
encouragement. What a comfort may this be to us ! and

Serm. IV.

THE MOST HIGH A PRAYER-HEARING GOD.

117

what reason have we to rejoice in our privileges, to prize
them so nighly, and to bless God that he hath been so
merciful to us, as to give us his word, and reveal himself
to us ; and that he hath not left us to cry for help to
stocks and stones, and devils, as he has left many thousands
of others.
Objection. I have often prayed to God for certain
mercies, and he has not heard my prayers. — To this I
answer, 1. It is no argument, that God is not a prayer-hearing
God, if he give not to men what they ask of him to con
sume upon their lusts. Oftentimes when men pray for
temporal good things, they desire them for no good end,
but only to gratify their pride or sensuality. If they pray
for worldly good things chiefly from a worldly spirit ; and
make an idol of the world ; it is no wonder that God doth
not hear their prayers : Jam. iv. 3. " Ye ask, and receive
not, because ye ask amiss, to consume it upon your lusts."
If you request him to give you something of which you
wiil make an idol, and set up in opposition to him — or
will use as weapons of warfare against him, or as instru
ments to serve his enemies — no wonder that God will not
hear you. If God should hear such prayers, he would act
as his own enemy, inasmuch as he would bestow them to
serve his enemies.
2. It is no argument that God is not a prayer-hearing
God, that he heareth not insincere and unbelieving prayers.
How can we expect that he should have any respect to that
which has no sincerity in it J God looketh not at words,
but at the heart ; and it "is fit that he should do so. If men
pray dnly in words, and not in heart, what are their
prayers good for ? and why should that God who searches
the heart, and tries the reins, have any respect to them ? —
Sometimes men do nothing but dissemble in their prayers ;
and when they do so, it is no argument that God is the less
a prayer-hearing God, that he doth not hear such prayers ;
for it is no argument of want of mercy. Sometimes they
pray for that in words which they really desire not in their
hearts ; as that he would purge them from sin, when at the
same time they show by their practice, that they do not
desire to be purged from sin, while they love and choose
it, and are utterly averse to parting with it. In like man
ner, they often dissemble in the pretence and show, which
they make in their prayers, of dependence on God for mer
cies, and of a sense of his sufficiency to supply them. In
our coining to God, and praying to him for such and such
things, there is a show that we are sensible we are depend
ent on him for them, and that he is sufficient to give them
to us. But men sometimes seem to pray, while not
sensible of their dependence on God, nor do they think
him sufficient to supply them ; for all the while they trust
in themselves, and have no confidence in God. — They
show in words as though they were beggars ; but in heart
they come as creditors, and iook on God as their debtor.
In words they seem to ask for things as the fruit of free
grace ; but in heart they account it would be hard, un
just, and cruel, if God should deny them. In words they
seem humble and submissive, but in heart they are proud
and contentious ; there is no prayer but in their words.
It doth not render God at all the less a prayer-hearing
God, that he distinguishes,as an all-seeing God, between
real prayers and pretended ones. Such prayers as those
which I have just now been mentioning, are not worthy of
the name in the eyes of him who searches the heart, and
sees things as they are  That prayer which is not of faith,
is insincere ; for prayer is a show or manifestation of de
pendence on God, and trust in his sufficiency and mercy.
Therefore, where this trust or faith is wanting, there is no
prayer in the sight of God. And however God is some
times pleased to grant the requests of those who have no
faith, yet he has not obliged himself so to do ; nor is it an
argument of his not being a prayer-hearing God, when he
hears them not.
3. It is no argument that he is not a prayer-hearing
God, that he exercises his own wisdom as to the time and
manner of answering prayer. Some of God's people are
sometimes ready to think, that he doth not hear their pray
ers, because he doth answer them at the limes when they
expected ; when indeed God doth hear them, and will an
swer them, in the time and way to which his own wisdom

directs. — The business of prayer is not to direct God, who
is infinitely wise, and needs not any of our directions ;
who knows what is best for us ten thousand times better
than we, and knows what time and what way are best. It
is fit that he should answer prayer, and, as an infinitely wise
God, in the exercise of his own wisdom, and not ours.
God will deal as a father with us, in answering our re
quests. But a child is not to expect that the father's wis
dom be subject to his ; nor ought he to desire it, but
should esteem it a privilege, that the parent will provide
for him according to his own wisdom.
As to particular temporal blessings for which we pray, it
is no argument that he is not a prayer-hearing God, be
cause he bestows them not upon us ; for it may be that
God sees the things for which we pray not to be best for
us. If so, it would be no mercy in him to bestow them
upon us, but a judgment. Such things, therefore, ought
always to be asked with submission to the divine will.
God can answer prayer, though he bestow not the very
thing for which we pray. He can sometimes better answer
the lawful desires and good end we have in prayer another
way. If our end be our own good and happiness, God
can perhaps better answer that end in bestowing something
else than in the bestowment of that very thing which we
ask. And if the main good we aim at in our prayer be at
tained, our prayer is answered, though not in the bestow
ment of the individual thing which we sought. And so
that may still be trire which was before asserted, that God
always hears the prayer of faith. God never once failed
of hearing a sincere and believing prayer ; and those pro
mises for ever hold good, " Ask, and ye shall receive;
seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened to
you : for every one that asketh, receiveth ; and he that
seeketh, findeth ; and to him that knocketh, it shall be-
opened." Another use of this doctrine may be, of reproof to
those that neglect the duty of prayer. If we enjoy so great
a privilege as to have the prayer-hearing God revealed to
us, how great will be our folly and inexcusableness, if we
neglect the privilege, or make no use of it, and deprive
ourselves of the advantage by not seeking this God by
prayer. They are hereby reproved who neglect the great
duty of secret prayer, which is more expressly required in
the word of God than any other kind. What account can
those persons give of themselves, who neglect so known a
duty ? It is impossible that any among us should be igno
rant of this command of God. How daring, therefore, is
their wickedness who live in the neglect of this duty ! and
what can they answer to their Judge, when he shall call
them to an account for it?
Here I shall briefly say something to an excuse which
some may be ready to make for themselves. Some may be
ready to say, If I do pray, my prayer will not be the prayer
of faith, because I am in a natural condition, and have no
faith. This excuses not from obedience to a plain command of
God. The command is to all to whom the command shall
come. God not only directs godly persons to pray, but
others also. In the beginning of the second chapter of
Proverbs, God directs all persons to cry after wisdom, and
to lift up their voices for understanding, in order to their
obtaining the fear and knowledge of God ; and in Jam.
i. 5. the apostle says, " If any man lack wisdom, let him
ask of God ;" and Peter directed Simon Magus to repent,
and pray to God, if perhaps the thought of his heart might
be forgiven him, Acts viii. 22. Therefore when God
says, do thus or thus, it is not for us to make excuses,
but we must do the thing required. Besides,
God is pleased sometimes to answer the prayers of un
believers. Indeed he hears not their prayers for their
goodness or acceptableness, or because of any true respect
to him manifested in them, for there is none ; nor has he
obliged himself to answer such prayers ; yet he is pleased
sometimes, of his sovereign mercy, to pity wicked men,
and hear their cries. Thus he heard the cries of the Nine
vites, (Jonah iii.) and the prayer of Ahab, 1 Kings xxi.
27, 28. Though there be no regard to God in their prayers,
yet he, of his infinite grace, is pleased to have respect to
their desires of their own happiness, and to grant their
requests. He may, and sometimes does, hear the cries of

118

SEVEN SERMONS.

wicked men, as he hears the hungry ravens, when they
cry, Psal. cxlvii. 9. and as he opens his bountiful hand,
and' satisfies the desires of every living thing, Psal. cxlv.
16. Besides the prayers of sinners, though they have no
goodness in them, yet are made a means of a preparation
for mercy.

Finally, Seeing we have such a prayer-hearing God as.
we have' heard, let us be much employed in tlie duty of
prayer : let us pray with all prayer and supplication : let
us live prayerful lives, continuing instant in prayer, watch
ing thereunto with all perseverance ; praying always, with
out ceasing, earnestly, and not feinting.

SERMON V.

THE NATURE AND END OF EXCOMMUNICATION.

1 Cor. v. 11.
But now 1 have written unto you not to keep company, if
any man that is called a brother be a fornicator, or covet
ous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an
extortioner ; with such an one no not to eat.
The apostle reproves the church at Corinth for not ex
communicating an offending person; and directs them
speedily to cast him out from among them ; thus deliver
ing him to Satan. He orders them to purge out such
scandalous persons, as the Jews were wont to purge leaven
out of their houses when they kept the passover. In the
text and two foregoing verses he more particularly explains
their duty with respect to such vicious persons, and enjoins
it on them not to keep company with such. But then
shows the difference they ought to observe in their carriage
towards those who were vicious among the heathen, who
had never joined with the church, and towards those of
the same vicious character who had been their professed
brethren ; see ver. 9 — 12. " I wrote unto you, not to com
pany with fornicators. Yet not altogether with the for
nicators of this world, or with the covetous, or extortioners,
or with idolaters, for then must ye needs go out of the
world. But now I have written unto you, not to keep
company, if any man that is called a brother he a fornica
tor, or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard,
or an extortioner ; with such an one no not to eat."
In the words of the text we may observe,
1. The duty enjoined ; including the behaviour required,
negatively expressed, not to keep company ; and the man
ner or degree, no not to eat.
2. The object ; a fornicator, or covetous, or an idolater,
or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner. We are not
to understand merely these particular vices, but also any
other gross sins, or visible wickedness. It is evident, that
the apostle here, and in the context, intends that we should
exclude out of our company all those who are visibly
wicked men. For in the foregoing verses he expresses his
meaning by this, that we should purge out the old leaven ;
and, explaining what he means by leaven, he includes all
visible wickedness ; as in ver. 8. " Therefore let us keep
the feast, not with old leaven, neither with the leaven of
malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of
sincerity and truth."
Another thing by which the object of this behaviour or
dealing is characterized, is, that he be one that is called a
brother, or one that hath been a professed Christian, and
a member of the church.
Doctrine. Those members of the visible christian
church who are become visibly wicked, ought not to be
tolerated in the church, but should be excommunicated.
In handling this subject, I shall speak, (1.) Of the
nature of excommunication; (2.) Of the subject; and,
(3.) Of the ends of it.
I. I shall say something of the nature of excommuni
cation. It is a punishment executed in the name and
according to the will of Christ, whereby a person who
hath heretofore enjoyed the privileges of a member of the
visible church of Christ, is cast out of the church and

delivered unto Satan. It is a punishment inflicted ; it is
expressly called a punishment by the apostle, in 2 Cor. ii.
6. Speaking of the excommunicated Corinthian, he says,
" Sufficient to such a man is this punishment." for
though it be not designed by man for the destruction of
the person, but for his correction, and so is of the nature
of a castigatory punishment, at least so far as it is inflicted
by men ; yet it is in itself a great and dreadful calamity,
and the most severe punishment that Christ hath appoint
ed in the visible church. Although in it the church is to
seek only the good of the person and his recovery from
sin — there appearing, upon proper trial, no reason to hope
for his recovery by gentler means — yet it is at God's
sovereign disposal, whether it shall issue in his humiliation
and repentance, or in his dreadful and eternal destruction ;
as it always doth issue in the one or the other. — In the
definition of excommunication now given, two things are
chiefly worthy of consideration ; viz. Wherein this punish
ment consists, and by whom it is inflicted.
First, I would show wherein this punishment consists ;
and it is observable that there is in it something privative,.
and something positive.
Fii'st, There is something privative in excommunication,.
which consists in being deprived of a benefit heretofore
enjoyed. This part of the punishment, in the Jewish
church, was called putting out ofthe synagogue, John xvi.
2. The word synagogue is of the same signification as the
word church. So this punishment in the christian church
is called casting out qf the church. The apostle John,
blaming Diotrephes for inflicting this punishment without
cause, says, 3 John 10. " He casteth them out of the
church." It is sometimes expressed by the church's with
drawing from a member, 2 Thess. iii. 6. " Now we com
mand you, brethren, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ,
that ye withdraw yourselves from every brother that walk-
eth disorderly."
The privative part of excommunication consists in being
cut o^from the enjoyment of the privileges of God's visi
ble people. The whole world of mankind is divided into
these two sorts, those that are God's visible people ; and
those that are of the visible kingdom of Satan. Now it is
a great privilege to be within the visible church of Christ.
On the other hand, it is very doleful to be without this
visible kingdom, to be cut off from its privileges, treated as
belonging to the visible kingdom of Satan. For,
1 . They are cut off from being the objects of that charity
of God's people which is due to christian brethren. They
are not indeed cut off from all the charity of God's peo
ple, for all men ought to be the objects of their love. But I
speak of the brotherly charity due to visible saints. —
Charity, as the apostle represents it, is the bond by which
the several members of the church of Christ are united
together : and therefore he calls it the bond of perfectness ;
Col. iii. 14. " Put on charity, which is the bond of per
fectness." But when a person is justly excommunicated,
it is like a physician's cutting off a diseased member from
the body; and then the bond which before united it to the
body is cut or broken. — A scandal is the same as a stum
bling-block ; and therefore while the scandal remains, it
obstructs the charity of others : and if it finally remain
after proper endeavours to remove it, then it breaks their
charity, and so the offender is cut off from the charitable
opinion and esteem of the church. It cannot any longer

Serm- V.

THE NATURE AND END OF EXCOMMUNICATION.

119

look upon him as a Christian, and so rejects him; there
fore excommunication is called a rejection, Tit. iii. 10. " A
man that is an heretic, after the first and second admoni
tion, reject." This implies that the church disapproves the
person as a Christian : it cannot any longer charitably look
upon him as a saint, or fellow-worshipper of God, and can
do no other than, on the contrary, esteem him an enemy of
God ; and so doth openly withdraw its charity from him,
ceasing to acknowledge him as a fellow-Christian, any more
than the heathens. He is also cut off from that honour
which is due to brethren and fellow-Christians. To be a
visible Christian is an honourable character ; but excom
municated persons forfeit this honour. Christians ought
not to pay that honour and respect to them which they pay
to others ; but should treat them as unworthy of such
honour, that they may be ashamed. Christ tells us, they
should "he unto us as heathen men and publicans,"
(Matt, xviii. 17.) which implies a withdrawing from them
that common respect which we pay to others. We ought
to treat them so as to let them plainly see that we do not
count them worthy of it, to put them to shame.
Much love and complacency is due to those whom we
are obliged in charity to receive as saints, because they are
visible Christians. But this complacency excommunicated
persons forfeit. We should still wish well to them, and
seek their good. Excommunication itself is to be per
formed as an act of benevolence. We should seek their
good by it ; and it is to be used as a means of their eternal
salvation. But complacency and delight in them as visi
ble Christians is to be withdrawn ; and on the contrary they
are to be the objects of displacency, as visibly and appar
ently wicked. We are to cast them out as an unclean
thing which defiles the church of God. — In this sense the
psalmist professes a hatred of those who were the visible
enemies of God. Psal. cxxxix. 21, 22. " Do 1 not hate
them, O Lord, that hate thee ? And am I not grieved with
those that rise up against thee ? 1 hate them with perfect
hatred." Not that he hated them with a hatred of malice
or ill-will, but with displacency and abhorrence of their
wickedness. In this respect we ought to be the children
of our Father who is in heaven, who, though he loves
many wicked men with a love of benevolence, yet cannot
love them with a love of complacency. Thus excommu
nicated persons are cut off from the charity ofthe church.
2. They are cut off also from the society which Chris
tians have together as brethren. Thus we are commanded
to withdraw from such ; 2 Thess. iii. 6. To avoid them ;
Rom. xvi. 17. To have no company with them ; 2 Thess.
iii. 14. And to treat them as heathens and publicans ; Matt.
xviii. 17. The people of God are, as much as may be, to
withdraw from them as to that common society which is
proper to subsist among Christians. — Not that they should
avoid speaking to them on any occasion. All manner and
all degrees of society are not forbidden ; but all unneces
sary society, or such as is wont to be among those who
delight in the company of each other. We should not
associate ourselves with them so as to make them our com
panions. Yea, there ought to be such an avoiding of their
company as may show great dislike.
Particularly, we are forbidden such a degree of associating
ourselves with them, as tliere is in making them our guests
at our tables, or in being their guests at their tables ; as is
manifest in the text, where we are commanded to have no
company with them, no not to eat. That this respects not
eating with them at the Lord's supper, but a common eat
ing, is evident by the words, that the eating here forbidden,
is one of the lowest degrees of keeping company, which are
forbidden. Keep no company with such an one, saith the
apostle, no not to eat : as much as to say, no not in so low
a degree as to eat with him. But eating with him at the
Lord's supper, is the very highest degree of visible chris
tian communion. Who can suppose that the apostle meant
this, Take heed and have no company with a man, no not
so much as in the highest degree of communion that you
can have ? Besides, the apostle mentions this eating as a
way of keeping company which, however, they might hold
with the heathen. He tells them, not to keep company
with fornicators ; then he informs them, he means not
with fornicators of this world, that is, the heathens ; but,
saith he, " if any man that is called a brother be a forni

cator, &c. with such an one keep no company, no not lo
eat." . This makes it most apparent, that the apostle doth
not mean eating at the Lord's table; for so, they might not
keep company with the heathens, any more than with an
excommunicated person. Here naturally arise two ques
tions. Quest. I. How far are the church to treat excommuni
cated persons as they would those who never have been of
the visible church ? I answer, they are to treat them as
heathens, excepting in these two things, in which there is
a difference to be observed.
1. They are to have a greater concern for their welfare
still, than if they never had been brethren, and therefore
ought to take more pains, by admonitions and otherwise,
to reclaim and save them, than they are obliged to take
towards those who have been always heathens. This
seems manifest by that ofthe apostle, 2 Thess. iii. 14, 15.
" And if any man obey not our word by this epistle, note
that man, and have no company with him, that he may be
ashamed. Yet count him not as an enemy, but admonish
him as a brother." The consideration that he hath been a
brother heretofore, and that we have not finally cast him
off from that relation, but that we are still hoping and
using means for his recovery, obliges us to concern our
selves more for the good of his soul than for those with
whom we never had any such connexion; and so to pray for
him, and to take pains by admonishing him. — Tne very
reason of the thing shows the same. For this very ordi
nance of excommunication is used for this end, that we
may thereby obtain the good of the person excommuni
cated. And surely we should be more concerned for the
good of those who have been our brethren, and who are
now under the operation of means used by us for their
good, than for those with whom we never had any special
connexion. Thus, there should be more of the love of
benevolence exercised towards persons excommunicated,
than towards those who never were members of the church.
—But then,
2. On the other hand, as to what relates to the love of
complacence, they ought to be treated with greater dis
placency and disrespect than the heathen. This is plain
by the text and context. For the apostle plainly doth not
require of us to avoid the company of the heathen, or the
fornicators ofthe world, but expressly requires us to avoid
the company of any brother who shall be guilty of any of
the vices pointed out in the text, or any other like them. —
This is also plain by the reason of the thing. For those
who have once been visible Christians and have apostatized
and cast off that visibility, deserve to be treated with more
abhorrence than those who have never made any preten
sions to Christianity. The sin of such, in apostatizing from
their profession, is more aggravated, than the sin of those
who never made any profession. They far more dishonour
religion, and are much more abhorred of God. Therefore
when Christ says, Matt, xviii. 17. " Let him be unto thee
as an heathen man and a publican," it is not meant that
we should treat an excommunicated brother as Christians
ought to treat heathens and publicans ; for they might eat
with them, as Christ himself did ; and the apostle gives
leave to eat with such, 1 Cor. x. 27. and in the context
gives leave to keep company with such ; yet forbids to eat
with an excommunicated person. — Christ's meaning must
be, that we should treat an excommunicated person as the
Jews were wont to treat the heathens and publicans ; and
as the disciples had been always taught among the Jews,
and brought up, and used to treat them. They would by
no means eat with publicans and sinners ; they would not
eat with the Gentiles, or with the Samaritans. Therefore
Peter durst not eat with the Gentiles when the Jews were
present; Gal. ii. 12.
Quest. II. What kindness and respect may and ought
to be shown to such persons ? — I answer, There are some
things by which the members of the church are obliged to
show kindness to them ; and these things are chiefly, to
pray for them, and to admonish them. — And the common
duties and offices of humanity ought to be performed
towards them ; such as relieving them when they are sick,
or under any other distress ; allowing them those benefits
of human society, and that help, which are needful for the
support and defence of their lives and property.— The

120

SEVEN SERMONS.

duties of natural and civil relations are still to be per
formed towards them. Excommunication doth not release
children from the obligation of duty to their parents, nor
parents from parental affection and care toward their chil
dren. ¦ Nor are husbands and wives released from the duties
proper to their relation. And so of all other less relations,
whether natural, domestic, or civil.
3. They are cut off from the fellowship of the christian
church. The true notion of the visible church of Christ, is
that part of mankind, which, as his people, is united in
upholding his appointed worship. And the notion of a
particular visible church of Christ, is a particular society
of worshippers, or of visible saints, united for the social
worship of God according to his institutions or ordinances.
One great and main privilege then, which the members of
such a church enjoy, is fellowship in the worship which
God hath appointed in his church. But they that are ex
communicated are cut off from this privilege, they have no
fellowship, no communion with the people of God in any
part of their worship.
He who is the mouth of the worshipping congregation
in offering up public prayers, is the mouth only of the
worshipping society ; but the excommunicated are cast out
of that society. The church may and ought to pray for
such ; but they cannot have fellowship with such in prayer.
The minister, when speaking in prayer, doth not speak in
their name ; he speaks only in the name of the united so
ciety of visible saints or worshippers. If the people of
God were to put up prayers in their name, it would im
ply a receiving of them into charity, or that they charitably
iooked upon them as the servants or worshippers of God.
But, as was observed before, excommunicated persons are
in this respect cast out of the charity of the church, and
it looks upon them as wicked men and enemies of God,
and treats them as such.
So when a congregation of visible saints join in singing
the praises of God, as the psalmist says, Psal. xxxiv. 3.
"Let us extol his name together;" they do it only as
joining with those who are, in their charitable estimation,
fellow-servants and fellow-worshippers of God. They do
it not as joining with heathens ; nor do the people of God
say to the open enemies of God, remaining such, " Come
let us extol his name together ;" but they say it to their
brethren in God's service. If we ought not to join with
excommunicated persons in familiar society, much less
ought we to hold fellowship with them in solemn worship,
though they may be present.
4. There are privileges of a more internal nature, which
those who are members of the visible church enjoy, from
which excommunicated persons are cut off. They being
God's covenant-people, are in the way of covenant-bless
ings : and therefore have more encouragement to come to
God by prayer for any mercy they need. The visible
church is the people among whom God hath set his taber
nacle, and among whom he is wont to bestow his blessings.
But the excommunicated are, in a sense, cast out of God's
sight, into a land of banishment, as Cain was, though not
debarred from common means. Gen. iv. 14, 16. They
are not in the way of those smiles of providence, those
tokens of God's favour, and that light of God's counte
nance, like those who are within Nor, as they are cast
out from among God's covenant people, have they the di
vine covenant to plead, as the members of the church have.
— Thus far I have considered the privative part of the
punishment of excommunication.—! now proceed,
Secondly, to the positive part, which is expressed by
being delivered to Satan, in verse 5. By which two things
seem to be signified :
1 • A being delivered over to the calamities to which they
are subject, who belong to the visible kingdom of the de
vil. As they who are excommunicated are thrust out from
among the visible people of God ; so they are to be look
ed upon, in most respects at least, as being in the miser
able, deplorable circumstances in which those are who are
under the visible tyranny ofthe devil, as the heathens are
And in many respects they doubtless suffer the cruel
tyranny of the devil, in a manner agreeable to their condi
tion, being cast out into his visible kingdom.
2. It is reasonable to suppose that God is wont to make
the devil the instrument of those peculiar, severe chastise

ments which their apostacy deserves. As they deserve
more severe chast sement than the heathens, and are de
livered to Satar. for the destruction of the flesh ; so we
may well suppose, either that God is wont to let Satan
loose, sorely to molest them outwardly or inwardly, and
by such severe means to destroy the flesh, and to humble
them ; or that he suffers the devil to take possession of
them dreadfully to harden them, and so to destroy them for
ever. For although what men are to aim at, is only the
destruction of the flesh, yet whether it shall prove the
destruction of the flesh, or the eternal and more dreadful
destruction of themselves, is at God's sovereign disposal.
 So much for the nature of excommunication.
Secondly, I come to show by whom the punishment is
to be inflicted.
1. When it is regularly and duly inflicted, it is to be
looked upon as done by Christ himself. That is imported
in the definition, that it is according to his will, and to the
directions of his word. And therefore he is to be looked
upon as principal in it, and we ought to esteem it as really
and truly from him, as if he were on earth personally in
flicting it.
2. As it is inflicted by men, it is only done ministerially;
They do not act of themselves in this, any more than in
preaching the word. When the word is preached, it is the
word of Christ which is spoken, as the preacher speaks in
the name of Christ, as his ambassador. So when a church
excommunicates a member, the church acts in the name of
Christ, and by his authority, not by its own. It is govern
ed by his will, not by its own. Indeed it is only a par
ticular application of the word of Christ. — Therefore it is
promised, that when it is duly done, it shall be confirmed
in heaven ; i. e. Christ will confirm it, by acknowledging
it to be his own act ; and he will, in his future providence,
have regard to what is done thus as done by himself: he
will look on the person, and treat him as cast out and de
livered to Satan by himself; and if he repent not, will for
ever reject him: Matt, xviii. 18. " Verily I say unto you,
Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth, shall be bound in
heaven." John xx. 23. " Whose soever sins ye retain,
they are retained."  1 shall now, as was proposed,
II. Endeavour to show who are the proper subjects of
excommunication. They are those members of the'ehurch
who are now become visibly wicked ; for the very name
and nature of the visible church show, that it is a society
of visible saints, or visibly holy persons. When anv of
these visible saints become visibly wicked men, they
ought to be cast out of the church. Now, the members of
the church become visibly wicked by these two things :
1. By gross sin. Saints may be guilty of other sins, and
very often are, without throwing any just stumbling-block
in the way of public cbaritv, or of' the charity of their
christian brethren. The common failures of humanity,
and the daily short-comings of the best of men, do not
ordinarily obstruct the charity of their brethren ; but when
they fell into any gross sin, this effect follows ; for we
naturally argue, that he who hath committed some gross
sin hath doubtless much more practised less and more se
cret sins ; and so we doubt concerning the soundness and
sincerity of his heart. Therefore all those who commit
any gross sin, as they obstruct the charity of their brethren,
are proper subjects of discipline : and unless they confess
their sin, and manifest their repentance, are proper subjects
ot excommunication.— This leads me to say,
• ?uiTha- the members of the church do especially become
visibly wicked, when they remain impenitent in their sins,
after proper means used to reclaim them. Merely being
guilty of any gross sin, is a stumbling-block to charity,
unless repentance immediately succeed; but especially
when the guilty person remains obstinate and contuma-
cious ; in such 'a case he is most clearly a visibly wicked
person, and therefore to be dealt with as such • to be cast
out into the wicked world, the kingdom of Satan, where
he appears to belong.— Nor is contumacy in gross sins
only a sufficient ground of excommunication In the
text the apostle commands us to inflict this censure, not
only on those who are guilty of the gross sins of fornica
tion, idolatry, and drunkenness, but also on those who are
guilty of covetousness, railing, and extortion, which, at
least in seme degrees of them, are too generally esteemed

Serm. V.

THE NATURE AND END OF EXCOMMUNICATION.

121

no very heinous crimes. And in Rom. xvi. 17. the same
apostle commands the church to excommunicate " them
who cause divisions and offences, contrary to the doctrine
they had learned ;" and in 2 Thess. iii. 14. to excommuni
cate every one who should " not obey his word by that
epistle." Now, according to these precepts, every one
who doth not observe the doctrine of the apostles, and
their word contained in their epistles, and so, by parity of
reason, the divine instructions contained in the other parts
of Scripture, is to be excommunicated, provided he con
tinue impenitent and contumacious. So that contumacy
and impenitence in any real and manifest sin whatsoever.
deserve excommunication.
III. I come to speak of the ends of this ecclesiastical
censure. The special ends of it are these three.
1. That the church may be kept pure, and the ordi
nances of God not be defiled. This end is mentioned
in the context, verse 6, &c. " Know ye not that a little
leaven leaveneth the whole lump ? Purge out therefore
the old leaven, that ye may be a new lump, as ye are un
leavened. Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old
leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and wickedness,
but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." — •
When the ordinances of God are defiled by the toleration
pf wicked men in the church, God the Father, Jesus
Christ the head and founder of the church, the religion
of the gospel, and the church itself, are dishonoured and
exposed to contempt. — And that the other members them
selves may not be defiled, it is necessary that they bear a
testimony against sin, by censuring it whenever it appears
among them, especially in the grosser acts of wickedness.
If they neglect so to do, they contract guilt by the very
neglect; and not only so, but they expose themselves to
learn the same vices which they tolerate in others ; for " a
little leaven leaveneth the whole lump." Hence that earn
est caution ofthe apostle, Heb. xii. 15. " Looking diligently
lest any man fail of the grace of God ; lest any root of
bitterness springing up, trouble you, and thereby many be
defiled." 2. That others may be deterred from wickedness. As
the neglect of proper censure, with respect to visibly wicked
church-members, tends to lead and encourage others to
commit the same wickedness ; so the infliction of proper
censure tends to restrain others, not only from the same
wickedness, but from sin in general. This therefore is
repeatedly mentioned as one end of the punishments ap
pointed to be inflicted by the law of Moses : Deut. xiii.
11. " And all Israel shall hear, and fear, and shall do no
more such wickedness as this is among you."
3. That the persons themselves may be reclaimed, and
that their souls may be saved. When other more gentle
means have been used in vain, then it is the duty of the
church to use this, which is more severe, in order to bring
them to conviction, shame, and humiliation : and that, by
being rejected and avoided by the church, and treated with
disrespect, they may be convinced how they deserve to be
for ever disowned of God ; that by being delivered unto
Satan, they may learn how they deserve for ever to be de
livered up to him ; that by his being made the instrument
of their chastisement, they may learn how they deserve to
be tormented by him, without any rest day or night, for
ever and ever. — This, with the counsels and admonitions
by which it is to be followed, is the last mean that the
church is to use, in order to reclaim those members which
are become visibly wicked. If this be ineffectual, what
is next to be expected is destruction without remedy.
APPLICATION.
I shall apply this subject in a brief use of exhortation
to this church, to maintain strictly the proper discipline of

the gospel in general, and particularly that part of it which
consists in excommunication. To this end I shall just sug
gest to you the following motives.
1. That if you tolerate visible wickedness in your mem
bers, you will greatly dishonour God, our Lord Jesus
Christ, the religion which you profess, the church in gene
ral, and yourselves in particular. As those members of
the church who practise wickedness, bring dishonour
upon the whole body, so do those who tolerate them in it.
The language of it is, that God doth not require holiness
in his servants ; that Christ doth not require it in his dis
ciples ; that the religion of the gospel is not a holy reli
gion ; that the church is not a body of holy servants of
God ; and that this church, in particular, hath no regard
to holiness or true virtue.
2. Your own. good loudly cal s you to the same thing.
From what hath been already said, you see how liable you,
as individuals, will be to catch the contagion, which is
easily communicated by reason of the natural depravity,
in a degree at least, remaining in the best of men. — Beside,
if strict discipline be maintained among you, it will not
only tend to prevent the spread of wickedness, but to
make you more fruitful in holiness. If you know that the
eyes of your brethren observe all your conduct, it will not
only make you more guarded against sin, but more careful
" to maintain good works," and to abound in " the fruits of
the Spirit." Thus you will have more abundant joy and
peace in believing.
3. The good of those who are without should be another
motive. What the apostle saith with reference to another
subject, 1 Cor. xiv. 24, 25. is perfectly applicable to the
case before us : " But if all prophesy, and there come in
one that believeth not, or one unlearned, he is convinced of
all, he is judged of all ; and thus are the secrets of his
heart made manifest ; and so falling down on his face, he
will worship God, and report that God is in you of a
truth." If strict discipline, and thereby strict morals,
were maintained in the church, it would in all probability
be one of the most powerful means of conviction and con
version towards those who are without.
4. Benevolence towards your offending brethren them
selves, calls upon you to maintain discipline in all its
parts. Surely, if we love our brethren, it will grieve us to
see them wandering from the path of truth and duty; and
in proportion as our compassion is moved, shall we be
disposed to use all proper means to reclaim and bring
them back to the right way. Now, the rules of discipline
contained in the gospel are the most proper, and best
adapted to this end, that infinite wisdom itself could
devise. Even excommunication is instituted for this very
end, the destruction qf tlie flesh, and the salvation of tlie
spirit. If, therefore, we have any love of benevolence to
our offending and erring brethren, it becomes us to manifest
it, in executing strictly the rules of gospel-discipline, and
even excommunication itself, whenever it is necessary.
5. But the absolute authority qf Christ ought to be
sufficient in this case, if there were no other motive. Our
text is only one of many passages in the Scripture, where
in strict discipline is expressly commanded, and peremp
torily enjoined. Now, how can you be the true discipies
of Christ, if you live in the neglect of these plain posi
tive commands ? " If ye love me," saith Christ, " keep
my commandments ;" and, " Ye are my friends, if ye do
whatsoever I have commanded you." But, " he that
loveth me not, keepeth not my sayings.'' " And why call
ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say ?"
If you strictly follow the rules of discipline instituted by
Christ, you have reason to hope for his blessing ; for he is
wont to bless his own institutions, and to smile upon the
means of grace which he hath appointed.

122

SEVEN SERMONS.

SERMON VI.*

WHEN THE WICKED SHALL HAVE FILLED UP THE MEASURE OF THEIR SIN, WRATH
WILL COME UPON THEM TO THE UTTERMOST.

1 Thess. ii. 16.
To fill up their sins alway ; for the wrath is come upon
them to the uttermost.
In verse 14. the apostle commends the christian Thes-
salonians that they became the followers of the churches
of God in Judea, both in faith and in sufferings ; in faith,
in that they received the word, not as the word of man,
but as it is in truth the word of God ; in sufferings, in
that they had suffered like things of their own country
men, as they had of the Jews. Upon which the apostle
sets forth the- persecuting, cruel, and perverse wickedness
of that people, " who both killed the Lord Jesus and
their own prophets, and have," says he, " persecuted us ;
and they please not God, and are contrary to all men,
forbidding us to speak to the Gentiles, that they might be
saved." Then come in the words of the text ; " To fill
up their sins alway ; for the wrath is come upon them to
the uttermost."
In these words we may observe two things :
1. To what effect was the heinous wickedness and ob
stinacy of the Jews, viz. to fill up their sins. God hath
set bounds to every man's wickedness ; he suffers men to
live, and to go on in sin, till they have filled up their
measure, and then cuts them off. To this effect was the
wickedness and obstinacy of the Jews : they were ex
ceedingly wicked, and thereby filled up the measure of
their sins a great pace. And the reason why they were
permitted to be so obstinate under the preaching and mi
racles of Christ, and of the apostles, and under all the
means used with them, was, that they might fill up the
measure of their sins. This is agreeable to what Christ
said, Matt, xxiii. 31, 32. "Wherefore ye be witnesses
unto yourselves, that ye are the children of them which
killed the prophets. Fill ye up then the measure of your
fathers." 2. The punishment of their wickedness : " The wrath
is come upon them to the uttermost." There is a con
nexion between the measure of men's sin, and the mea
sure of punishment. When they have filled up the mea
sure of their sin, then is filled up the measure of God's
wrath. The degree of their punishment, is the uttermost de
gree. This may respect both a national and personai pun
ishment. If we take it as a national punishment, a little
after the time when the epistle was written, wrath came
upon the nation of the Jews to the uttermost, in their ter
rible destruction by the Romans ; when, as Christ said,
" was great tribulation, such as never was since the be
ginning of the world to that time," Matt. xxiv. 21. That
nation had before suffered many of the fruits of divine
wrath for their sins ; but this was beyond all, this was
their highest degree of punishment as a nation. If we
take it as a personal punishment, then it respects their
punishment in hell. God ofien punishes men very dread
fully in this world ; but in hell " wrath comes on 'them to
the uttermost."— By this expression is also denoted the
. certainty of this punishment. For though the punish
ment was then future, yet it is spoken of as present :
" The wrath is come upon them to the uttermost." It was
as certain as if it had already taken place. God, who
knows all things, speaks of things that are not as though
they were ; for things present and things future are equally
certain with him. It also denotes the near approach of it.
The wrath is come ; i. e. it is just at hand ; it is at the
door; as it proved with respect to that nation; their terri-
* Dated, May, 1735.

ble destruction by the Romans was soon after the apostle
wrote this epistle.
Doctrine. When those that continue in sin shall have
filled up the measure of their sin, then wrath will come
upon them to the uttermost.
I. Prop. There is a certain measure that God hath set
to the sin of every wicked man. God says concerning the
sin of man, as he says to the raging waves of the sea,
Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further. The measure
of some is much greater than of others. Some reprobates
commit but a little sin in comparison with others, and so
are to endure proportionably a smaller punishment. There
are many vessels of wrath ; but some are smaller and
others greater vessels ; some will contain comparatively
but little wrath, others a greater measure of it. Some
times, when we see men go to dreadful lengths, and be
come very heinously wicked, we are ready to wonder that
God lets them alone. He sees them go on in such auda
cious wickedness, and keeps silence, nor does any thing to
interrupt them, but they go smoothly on, and meet with
no hurt. But sometimes the reason why God lets them
alone is, because they have not filled up the measure of
their sins. When they live in dreadful wickedness, they
are but filling up the measure which God hath limited for
them. This is sometimes the reason why God suffers
very wicked men to live so long ; because their iniquity is
not full : Gen. xv. 16. " The iniquity of the Amorites is
not yet full." For this reason also God sometimes suffers
them to live in prosperity. Their prosperity is a snare to
them, and an occasion of their sinning a great deal more.
Wherefore God suffers them to have such a snare,, because
he suffers them to fill up a larger measure. So, for this
cause, he sometimes suffers them to live under great light,
and great means and advantages, at the same time to neg
lect and misimprove all. Every one shall live till he hath
filled up his measure.
II. Prop. While men continue in sin, they are filling
the measure set them. This is the work in which they
spend their whole lives ; they begin in their childhood ;
and if they live to grow old in sin, they still go on with
this work. It is the work with which every day is filled
up. They may alter their business in other respects;
they may sometimes be about one thing, and sometimes
about another ; but they never change from this work of
filling up the measure of their sins. Whatever they put
their hands to, they are still employed in this work. This
is the first thing that they set themselves about when they
awake in the morning, and the last thing they do at night.
They are all the while treasuring up wrath against the day
of wrath, and the revelation of the righteous judgment of
God. It is a gross mistake of some natural men, who
think that when they read and pray they do not add to
their sins ; but, on the contrary, think they diminish their
guilt by these exercises. They think, that instead of adding
to their sins, they do something to satisfy for their past
offences ; but instead of that, they do but add to the mea
sure by their best prayers, and by those services with which
they themselves are most pleased.
Ill- Prop. When once the measure of their sins is
filled up, then wrath will come upon them to the utter
most. God will then wait no longer upon them. Wicked
men think that God is altogether such an one as them
selves, because, when they commit such wickedness, he
keeps silence. " Because judgment against an evil work
is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the children

Serm. VI.

WRATH UPON THE WICKED TO THE UTTERMOST.

123

of men is fully set in them to do evil." But when once
they shall have filled up the measure of their sins, judg
ment will be executed ; God will not bear with them any
longer. Now is the day of grace, and the day of pa
tience, which they spend in filling up their sins; but
when their sins shall be full, then wilt come the day of
wrath, the day of the fierce anger of God. — God often
executes his wrath on ungodly men, in a less degree, in
this world. He sometimes brings afflictions upon them,
and that in wrath. Sometimes he expresses his wrath in
very sore judgments ; sometimes he appears in a terrible
manner, not only outwardly, but also in the inward ex
pressions of it on their consciences. Some, before they
died, have had the wrath of God inflicted on their souls
in degrees that have been intolerable. But these things
are only forerunners of their punishment, only slight fore
tastes of wrath. God never stirs up all his wrath against
wicked men while in this world ; but when once wicked
men shall have filled up the measure of their sins, then
wrath will come upon them to the uttermost ; and that in
the following respects :
1 . Wrath will come upon them without any restraint or
moderation in the degree of it. God doth always lay, as
it were, a restraint upon himself; he doth not stir up his
wrath ; he stays his rough wind in the day of his east
wind ; he lets not his arm light down on wicked men
with its full weight. But when sinners shall have filled
up the measure of their sins, there will be no caution, no
restraint. His rough wind will not be stayed nor mode
rated. The wrath of God will be poured out like fire.
He will come forth, not only in anger, but in the fierce
ness of his anger ; he will execute wrath with power, so
as to show what his wrath is, and make his power known.
There will be nothing to alleviate his wrath ; his heavy
wrath will lie on them, without any thing to lighten the
burden, or to keep off, in any measure, the full weight of it
from pressing the soul.— His eye will not spare, neither
will he regard the sinner's cries and lamentations, how
ever loud and bitter. Then shall wicked men know that
God is the Lord ; they shall know how great that majesty
is which they have despised, and how dreadful that
threatened wrath is which they have so little regarded.
Then shall come on wicked men that punishment which
they deserve. God will exact of them the uttermost
farthing. . Their iniquities are marked before him ; they
are all written in his book ; and in the future world he
will reckon with them, and they must pay all the debt.
Their sins are laid up in store with God ; they are sealed
up among his treasures ; and them he will recompense,
even recompense into their bosoms. Tlie consummate
degree of punishment will not be executed till the day of
judgment ; but the wicked are sealed over to this con
summate punishment immediately after death ; they are
cast into hell, and there bound in chains of darkness to the
judgment of the great day; and they know that the high
est degree of punishment is coming upon them. Final
wrath will be executed without any mixture ; all mercy,
all enjoyments will be taken away. God sometimes ex
presses his wrath in this world ; but here good things and
evil are mixed together ; in the future there will be only
evil things.
2. Wrath will then be executed without any merciful
circumstances. The judgments which God executes on
ungodly men in this world, are attended with many mer
ciful circumstances. There is much patience and long-
suffering, together with judgment ; judgments are joined
with continuance of opportunity to seek mercy. But in
hell there will be no more exercises of divine patience.
The judgments which God exercises on ungodly men in
this world are warnings to them to avoid greater punish
ments ; but the wrath which will come upon them, when
they shall have filled up the measure of their sin, will not
be of the nature of warnings. Indeed they will be effec
tually awakened, and made thoroughly sensible, by what
they shall suffer ; yet their being awakened and made
sensible will do them no good. Many a wicked man
hath suffered very awful things from God in this world,
which have been a means of saving good ; but that wrath
which sinners shall suffer after death will be no way for
their good. God will have no merciful design in it; nei

ther will it be possible that they should get any good by
that or by any thing else.
3. Wrath will be so executed, as to perfect the work to
which wrath tends, viz. utterly to undo the subject of it.
Wrath is often so executed in this life, as greatly to distress
persons, and bring them into great calamity ; yet not so
as to complete the ruin of those who suffer it; but in an
other world, it will be so executed, as to finish their de
struction, and render them utterly and perfectly undone :
it will take away all comfort, all hope, and all support.
The soul will be, as it were, utterly crushed. ; the wrath
will be wholly intolerable. It must sink, and will utter
ly sink, and will have no more strength to keep itself from
sinking, than a worm would have to keep itself from being
crushed under the weight of a mountain. The wrath will
be so great, so mighty and powerful, as wholly to abolish
all manner of welfare : Matt. xxi. 44. " But on whom
soever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder."
4. When persons shall have filled up the measure of
their sin, that wrath will come upon them which is eter
nal. Though men may suffer very terrible and awful
judgments in this world, yet those judgments have an end.
They may be long continued, yet they commonly admit of
relief. Temporal distresses and sorrows have intermissions
and respite, and commonly by degrees abate and wear off;
but the wrath that shall be executed, when the measure of
sin shall have been filled up, will have no end. Thus it
will be to the uttermost as to its duration ; it will be of so
long continuance, that it will be impossible it should be
longer. Nothing can be longer than eternity.
5. When persons shall have filled up the measure of
their sin, then wrath will come upon them to the uttermost
of what is threatened. Sin is an infinite evil ; and the
punishment which God hath threatened against it is very
dreadful. The threatenings of God against the workers of
iniquity are very awful ; but these threatenings are never
fully accomplished in this world. However dreadful
things some men may suffer in this life, yet God never
fully executes his threatenings for so much as one sin, till
they have filled up the whoie measure. The threatenings
of the law are never answered by any thing that any man
suffers here. The most awful judgment in this life doth
not answer God's threatenings, either in degree, or in cir
cumstances, or in duration. If the greatest sufferings that
ever are endured in this life should be eternal, it would
not answer the threatening. Indeed temporal judgments
belong to the threatenings of the law ; but these are not
answered by them ; they are but foretastes of the punish
ment. " The wages of sin is death." No expressions of
wrath that are suffered before men have filled up the
measure of their sin, are its full wages. But then, God
will reckon with them, and will recompense into their
bosoms the full deserved sum.

APPLICATION.
The use I would make of this doctrine is, of warning
to natural men, to rest no longer in sin, and to make haste
to flee from it. The things which have been said, under
this doctrine, may well be awakening, awful considerations
to you. It is awful to consider whose wrath it is that
abides upon you, and of what wrath you are in danger.
It is impossible to express the misery of a natural condi
tion. It is like being in Sodom, with a dreadful storm of
fire and brimstone hanging over it, just ready to break
forth, and to be poured down upon it. The clouds of
divine vengeance are full, and just ready to burst. Here
let those who yet continue in sin, in this town, consider
particularly, 1 . Under what great means and advantages you continue
in sin. God is now favouring us with very great and ex
traordinary means and advantages, in that we have such
extraordinary tokens of the presence of God among us ;
his Spirit is so remarkably poured out, and multitudes of
all ages, and all sorts, are converted and brought home to
Christ. God appears among us in the most extraordinary
manner, perhaps, that ever he did in New England. The
children of Israel saw many mighty works of God, when

124

SEVEN SERMONS.

he brought them out of Egypt ; but we at this day see
works more mighty, and of a more glorious nature.
We who live under such light, have had loud calls ;
but now above all. Now is a day of salvation. The
fountain hath been set open among us in an extraordinary
manner, and hath stood open for a considerable time : yet
you continue in sin, and the calls that you have hitherto
had have not brought you to be washed in it. What ex
traordinary advantages have you lately enjoyed, to stir you
up ! How hath every thing in the town, of late, been of
that tendency ! Those things which used to be the greatest
hinderances have been removed. You have not the ill
examples of immoral persons to be a temptation to you.
There is not now that vain worldly talk, and ill company,
to divert you, and to be a hinderance to you, which there
used to be. Now you have multitudes of good examples
set before you ; there are many now all around you, who,
instead of diverting and hindering you, are earnestly de
sirous of your salvation, and willing to do all that they
can to move you to flee to Christ : they have a thirsting
desire for it. The chief talk in the town has of late been
about the things of religion, and has been such as hath
tended to promote, and not to hinder, your souls' good.
Every thing all around you hath tended to stir you up ;
and will you yet continue in sin ?
Some of you have continued in sin till you are far ad
vanced in life. You were warned when you were children ;
and some of you had awakenings then : however, the time
went away. You became men and women ; and then
you were stirred up again, you had the strivings of God's
Spirit ; and some of you have fixed the times when you
would make thorough work of seeking salvation. Some
of you perhaps determined to do it when you should be
married and settled in the world ; others when you should
have finished such a business, and when your circum
stances should be so and so altered. Now these times
have come, and are past ; yet you continue in sin.
Many of you have had remarkable warnings of provi
dence. Some of you have been warned by the deaths of
near relations ; you have stood by, and seen others die
and go into eternity; yet this hath not been effectual.
Some of you have been near death yourselves, have been
brought nigh the grave in sore sickness, and were full of
your promises how you would behave yourselves, if it
should please God to spare your lives. Some of you have
very narrowly escaped death by dangerous accidents ; but
God was pleased to spare you, to give you a further space
to repent ; yet you continue in sin.
Some of you have seen times of remarkable outpourings
of the Spirit of God, in this town, in times past ; but it
had no good effect on you. You had the strivings of the
Spirit of God too, as well as others. God did not so pass
by your door, but that he came and knocked ; yet you
stood it out. Now God hath come again in a more re
markable manner than ever before, and hath been pouring
out his Spirit for some months, in its most gracious in
fluence ; yet you remain in sin until now. In the begin
ning of this awakening, you were warned to flee from
wrath, and to forsake your sins. You were told what a
wide door there was open, what an accepted time it was,
and were urged to press into the kingdom of God. And
many did press in ; they forsook their sins, and believed
in Christ ; but you, when you had seen it, repented not, that
you might believe him.
Then you were warned again, and still others have been
Eressing and thronging into the kingdom of God. Many
ave fled for refuge, and have laid hold on Christ ; yet
you continue in sin and unbelief. You have seen multi
tudes of all sorts, of all ages, young and old, flocking to
Christ, and many of about your age and your circum
stances ; but you still are in the same miserable condition
in which you used to be. You have seen persons daily
flocking to Christ, as doves to their windows. God hath
not only poured out his Spirit on this town, but also on
other towns around us, and they are flocking in there, as
well as here. This blessing spreads further and further ;
many, far and near, seem to be setting their faces Zion-
ward : yet you who live here, where this work first began,
continue behind still ; you have no lot or portion in this
matter.

2. How dreadful the wrath of God is, when it is exi.
cuted to the uttermost. To make you in some measure
sensible of that, I desire you to consider whose wrath it
is. The wrath of a king is the roaring of a lion ; but this
is the wrath of Jehovah, the Lord God Omnipotent. Let
us consider, what can we rationally think of it 7 How
dreadful must be the wrath of such a Being, when it comes
upon a person to the uttermost, without any pity, or mode-j
ration, or merciful circumstances ! What must be the
uttermost of his wrath, who made heaven and earth by the
word of his power; who spake, and it was done, who
commanded, and it stood fast ! What must his wrath be,
who commandeth the sun, and it rises not, and sealeth up
the stars ! What must his wrath be, who shaketh the
earth out of its place, and causeth the pillars of heaven to
tremble ! What must his wrath be, who rebuketh the sea,
and maketh it dry, who removeth the mountains out of,
their places, and overturneth them in his anger ! What
must his wrath be, whose majesty is so awful, that no
man could live in the sight of it ! What must the wrath
of such a Being be, when it comes to the uttermost, when
he makes his majesty appear and shine bright in the misery
of wicked men ! And what is a worm of the dust before the
fury and under the weight of this wrath, which the stoutest
devils cannot bear, but utterly sink, and are crushed under
it. — Consider how dreadful the wrath of God is sometimes
in this world, only in a little taste or view of it. Some
times, when God only enlightens conscience, to have some
sense of his wrath, it causes the stout-hearted to cry out ;
nature is ready to sink under it, when indeed it is but a
little glimpse of divine wrath that is seen. This hath been
observed in many cases. But if a slight taste and appre
hension of wrath be so dreadful and intolerable, what
must it be, when it comes upon persons to the uttermost !
When a few drops or little sprinkling of wrath is so dis
tressing and overbearing to the soul, how must it be when
God opens the flood-gates, and lets the mighty deluge of
his wrath come pouring down upon men's guilty heads,
and brings in all his waves and billows upon their souls !
How little of God's wrath will sink them ! Psal. ii. 12.
" When his wrath is kindled but a little, blessed are all
they that put their trust in him."
3. Consider, you know not what wrath God may be
about to execute upon wicked men in this world. Wrath
may, in some sense, be coming upon them, in the present
life, to the uttermost, for ought we know. When it is said
of the Jews, " The wrath is come upon them to the utter
most," respect is had, not only to the execution of divine
wrath on that people in hell, but that terrible destruction
of Judea and Jerusalem, which was then near approach
ing, by the Romans. We know not but the wrath is now
coming, in some peculiarly awful manner, on the wicked
world. God seems, by the things which he is doing
among us, to be coming forth for some great thing. The
work which hath been lately wrought among us is no or
dinary thing. He doth not work in his usual way, but in
a way very extraordinary ; and it is probable, that it is a
forerunner of some very great revolution. We must not
pretend to say what is in the womb of providence, or what
is in the book of God's secret decrees ; yet we may and
ought to discern the signs of these times.
Though God be now about to do glorious things for his
church and people, yet it is probable that they will
be accompanied with dreadful things to his enemies. It
is the manner of God, when he brings about any glorious
revolution for his people, at the same time to execute very
awful judgments on his enemies : Deut. xxxii. 43. " Re
joice, O ye nations, with his people : for he will avenge
the blood of his servants, and will render vengeance to his
adversaries, and will be merciful unto his land, and to his
people." Isa. iii. 10, 11. " Say ye to the righteous, It
shall be well with him : for they shall eat the fruit of their
doings. Woe unto the wicked, it shall be ill with him:
for the reward of his hands shall be given him." Isa. lxv*
13, 14. " Therefore thus saith the Lord God, Behold, my
servants shall eat, but ye shall be hungry : behold, my
servants shall drink, but ye shall be thirsty : behold, my
servants shall rejoice, but ye shall be ashamed : behold,
my servants shall sing for joy of heart, but ye shall crv
for sorrow of heart, and shall howl for vexation of spirit.1'

Serm. VII.

THE WICKED USEFUL IN THEIR DESTRUCTION ONLY.

125

We find in Scripture, that where glorious times are pro
phesied to God's people, there are at the same time awful
judgments foretold to his enemies. What God is now
about to do, we know not : but this we may know, that
there will be no safety to any but those who are in the
ark. — Therefore it behoves all to haste and flee for their
lives, to get into a safe condition, to get into Christ;

then they need not fear, though the earth be removed, and
the mountains carried into the midst of the sea ; though
the waters thereof roar and be troubled ; though the
mountains shake with the swelling thereof : for God will
be their refuge and strength-; they need not be afraid of
evil tidings ; their hearts may be fixed, trusting in the
Lord.

SERMON VII.*
WICKED MEN USEFUL IN THEIR DESTRUCTION ONLY.

Ezek. xv. 2 — 4.
Son of man, What is the vine-tree more than any tree? or
than a branch which is among the trees of the forest?
Shall wood be taken thereof to do any work ? or will men
take a pin of it to hang any veisel thereon ? Behold, it is
cast into the fire for fuel; the fire devoureth both the
ends qfit, and the midst qf it is burned. Is it meet for
any work ?
The visible church of God is here compared to the
vine-tree, as is evident by God's own explanation of the
allegory, in ver. 6 — 8. " Therefore thus saith the Lord
God, As the vine-tree among the trees of the forest, which
I have given to the fire for fuel, so will I give the'inhabi-
tants of Jerusalem," &c. And it may be understood of
mankind in general. So Deut. xxxii. 32. " Their vine is the
vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah. Their
grapes are grapes of gall." And especially his professing
people." Psal. lxxx. 8. " Thou hast brought a vine out of
Egypt ;" ver. 14. " Look down from heaven, behold, and
visit this vine." And Cant. ii. 15. " The foxes that spoil
the vines; for our vines have tender grapes." Isa. v.
" My beloved hath a vineyard, and he planted it with the
choicest vine." Jer. ii. 21. " I had planted thee a noble
vine." Hos. x. 1. " Israel is an empty vine." So in chap.
xv. of John, visible Christians are compared to the branches
of a vine.
Man is very fitly represented by the vine. The weak
ness and dependence of the vine on other things which
support it, well represents to us what a poor, feeble,
dependent creature man is, and how, if left to himself, he
falls into mischief, and cannot help himself. The visible
people of God are fitly compared to a vine, because of the
care and cultivation of the husbandman, or vine-dresser.
The business of husbandmen in the land of Israel was
very much about vines ; and the care they exercised to
fence them, to defend them, to prune them, to prop them
up, and to cultivate them, well represented that merciful
care which God exercises towards his visible people.
In the words now read is represented, now wholly
useless and unprofitable, even beyond other trees, a vine
is, in case of unfruitfulness : " W hat is a vine-tree more
than any tree, or than a branch which is among the trees
of the forest ?" i. e. if it do not bear fruit. Men make
much more of a vine than of other trees ; they take great
care of it, to wall it in, to dig about it, to prune it, and the
like. It is much more highly esteemed than one of the
trees of the forest ; they are despised in comparison with
it. And if it bear fruit, it is indeed much preferable to
other trees ; for the fruit of it yields a noble liquor ; as it
is said in Jotham's parable, Judg. ix. 13. " And the vine
said unto them, Should I leave my wine, which cheereth
God and man?"- — But if it bear no fruit, it is more un
profitable than the trees of the forest ; for the wood of
them is good for timber ; but the wobd of the vine is fit
for no work ; as in the text, " Shall wood be taken thereof
to do any work ? or will men take a pin of it to hang any
vessel thereon ?" — The only thing for which a vine is
useful, in case of barrenness, is for fuel : " Behold, it is
* Dated, July, 1744.

cast into the fire for fuel." It is wholly consumed ; no
part of it is worth a saving, to make any instrument of it,
for any work.
Doctrine. If men bring forth no fruit to God, they
are wholly useless, unless in their destruction.
For the proof of this doctrine, I shall show,
1 . That there can be but two ways in which man can
be useful, viz. either in acting, or in being acted upon.
2. That man can no otherwise be useful actively than
by bringing forth fruit to God.
3. That if he bring not forth fruit to God, there is no
other way in which he can be passively useful, but in being
destroyed. 4. In that way he may be useful without bearing fruit.
I. There are but two ways in which man can be useful,
viz. either in acting or being acted upon. If man be
useful, he must be so either actively or passively ; there is
no medium. What can be more plain, than that if a man
do nothing himself, and nothing be done with him or upon
him by any other, he cannot be any way at all useful ? —
If man do nothing himself to promote the end of his
existence, and no other being do any thing with him to
promote this end, then nothing will be done to promote
this end ; and so man must be wholly useless. So that
there are but two ways in which man can be useful to any
purpose, viz. either actively or passively, either in doing
something himself, or in being the subject of something
done to him.
II. Man cannot be useful actively, any otherwise than
in bringing forth fruit to God ; serving God and living to
his glory. This is the only way wherein he can be useful
in doing ; and that for this reason, that the glory of God
is the very thing for which man was made, and to which
all other ends are subordinate. Man is not an indepen
dent being, but he derives his being from another ; and
therefore hath his end assigned him by that other : and he
who gave him his being made him for the end now men
tioned. This was the very design and aim of the Author
of man, this was the work for which he made him, viz. to
serve and glorify his Maker. — Other creatures, that are
inferior, were made for inferior purposes. But man is the
highest, and nearest to God, of any in this lower world ;
and therefore his business is with God, although other
creatures are made for lower ends. There may be ob
served a kind of gradual ascent, in the order of different
creatures, from the meanest clod of earth to man, who
hath a rational and immortal soul. A plant, an herb, or
tree, is superior in nature to a stone or clod, because it
hath a vegetable life. The brute creatures are a degree
higher still ; for they have sensitive life. But man, hav
ing a rational soul, is the highest of this lower creation,
and is next to God ; therefore his business is with God.
Things without life, as earth, water, &c. are subservient
to things above them, as the grass, herbs, and trees.
These vegetables are subservient to that order of creatures
which is next above them, the brute creation ; they arc for
food to them. Brute creatures, again, are made for the

126

SEVEN SERMONS.

use and service of the order above them ; they are made
for the service of mankind. But man being the highest of
this lower creation, the next step from him is to God. He
therefore is made for the service and glory of God. This
is the whole work and business of man ; it is his highest
end, to which all other ends are subordinate.
If it had not been for this end, there never would have
been any such creature ; there would have been no occa
sion for it. Other inferior ends may be answered as well,
without any such creature as man. There would have
been no sort of occasion for making so noble a creature,
and enduing him with such faculties, only to enjoy earthly
food, to eat, and to drink, and to enjoy sensual things.
irute creatures, without reason, are capable of these
things, as well as man : yea, if no higher end be aimed at
than to enjoy sensitive good, reason is rather a hinderance
than a help. It doth but render man the more capable of
afflicting himself with care, fears of death, and other
future evils ; and of vexing himself with many anxieties,
from which brute creatures are wholly free, and therefore
can gratify their senses with less molestation. Besides,
reason doth but make men more capable of molesting and
impeding one another in the gratification of their senses.
If man have no other end to seek but to gratify his senses,
reason is nothing but an impediment.
Therefore if man be not made to serve and glorify his
Creator, it is wholly to no purpose that such a creature is
made. Doubtless then, the all-wise God, who doth all
things in infinite wisdom, hath made man for this end.
And this is agreeable to what he hath taught us in many
places in the Scriptures. This is the great end for which
man was made, and for which he was made such a crea
ture, having bodily senses and rational powers. For this
is he placed in such circumstances, and the earth is given
him for a possession. For this he hath dominion given
him over the rest of the terrestrial creatures. For this the
sun shines and the rain falls on him, and the moon and
stars are for signs and seasons to him, and the earth yields
him her increase. — All other ends of man are subordinate
to this. There are indeed inferior ends for which man was
made. Men were made for one another ; for their friends
and neighbours, and for the good of tlie public. But all
these inferior ends are designed to be subordinate to the
higher end of glorifying God ; and therefore man cannot
be actively useful otherwise than by actively bringing forth
fruit to God. Because, that is not actively useful which
doth not actively answer its end : that which doth not
answer its end is in vain ; for that is the meaning of the
proposition, that any thing is in vain. So that which doth
not actively answer its end, is as to its own activity in vain.
That, as to its own activity, is altogether useless, which
actively answers only subordinate ends, without answering
the ultimate end ; because the latter is the end of subor
dinate ones. Subordinate ends are to no purpose, only as
they stand related to the highest end. Therefore these in
ferior ends are good for nothing, though they be obtained,
unless they also obtain their end. Inferior ends are not
aimed at for their own sake, but only for the sake of that
which is ultimate. Therefore he that fails of this, is as
much to no purpose, as if he did not obtain his subordi
nate end.
I will illustrate this by two or three examples. The sub
ordinate end of the underpinning of a house, is to support
it, and the subordinate end of the windows, is to let in the
light. But the ultimate end of the whole, is the benefit of
the inhabitants. Therefore, if the house be never in
habited, the whole is in vain. The underpinning is in vain,
though it be ever so strong, and support the building ever
so well. The windows also are wholly in vain, though
they be ever so large and clear, and though they obtain
the subordinate end of letting in tlie light : they are as
much in vain, as if they let in no light.
So the subordinate end of the husbandman in ploughing
and sowing, and well manuring his field, is, that it may
bring forth a crop. But his more ultimate end is, that
food may be provided for him and his family. Therefore
though his inferior end be obtained, and his field bring
forth ever so good a crop, yet if after all it be consumed by
fire, or otherwise destroyed, he ploughed and sowed his .
field as much in vain, as if the seed had never sprung up.

—So if man obtain his subordinate ends ever so fully;
yet if he altogether fail of his ultimate end, he is wholly
an useless creature. Thus if men be very useful in tem
poral things to their families, or greatly promote the tem
poral interest of the neighbourhood, or of the public ; yet
if no glory be brought to God by it they are altogether use
less. If men actually bring no glory to God, they are, as
to their own activity, altogether useless, how much soever
they may promote the benefit of one another. How much
soever one part of mankind may subserve another ; yet if
the end of the whole be not answered, every part is useless.
Thus if the parts of a clock subserve ever so well one
another, mutually to assist each other in their motions ;
one wheel moving another ever so regularly ; yet if the
motion never reach the hand or the hammer, it is alto
gether in vain, as much as if it stood still. So one man
was made to be useful to another, and one part of man
kind to another; but the use of the whole is to bring
glory to God the maker, or else all is in vain.
Although a wicked man may, by being serviceable to
good men, do what will be an advantage to them to their
bringing forth fruit to God ; yet that serviceableness is not
what he aims at ; he doth not look so far for an ultimate
end. And however this be obtained, no thanks are due to
him : he is only the occasion, and not the designing cause
of it.
The usefulness of such a man, being not designed, is
not to be attributed to him, as though it were his fruit.
He is not useful as a man, or as a rational creature, be
cause he is not so designedly. He is useful as things
without life may be. Things without life may be useful to
put the godly under advantages to bring forth fruit, as the
timber and stones with which his house is built, the wool
and flax with which he is clothed ; but the fruit which is
brought forth to God's glory, cannot be said to be the fruit
of these lifeless things, but ofthe godly man who makes
use of them. So it is when wicked men put the godly
under advantages to glorify God, as Cyrus, and Artaxerxes,
and others have done.
III. If men bring not forth fruit to God, there is no
other way in which they can be useful passively, but in
being destroyed. They are fit for nothing else.
1 . They are not fit to be suffered to continue always in
this world. It is not fit that this world should be the con
stant abode of those who bring forth no fruit to God. It
is not fit that the barren tree should be allowed always to
stand in the vineyard. The husbandman lets it stand for
a while, till he digs about it, dungs it, and proves it to
be incurable, or till a convenient time to cut it down
come ; but it is not fit that they who bring forth no fruit
to God, should be suffered to live always in a world which
is so full of the divine goodness, or that his goodness
should be spent upon them for ever. — This world, though
fallen, and under a curse, has many streams of divine
goodness. But it is not fit that those who bring forth no
fruit to God, should always be continued in partaking of
these streams. There are three different states ; one, where
in is nothing but good, which is heaven ; another, wherein
is a mixture of good and evil, which is the earthly state;
and the third, wherein is nothing but evil, which is the state
of eternal destruction. Now they that bring forth no fruit
to God, are not fit for either of the former.
It is not fit that an unprofitable, unfruitful creature,
who will not glorify his Creator, should always live here
to consume the fruits of divine bounty ; to have the good
things of this life spent upon him in vain. While a man
lives here, the other creatures are subjected to him. The
brute creatures serve him with their labour and with their
lives. The sun, moon, and stars ; the clouds, fields, and
trees, all serve him._ But why should God always keep
his creatures in subjection to that man, who will not be
subject to him ? Why should the creation be always kept
in such bondage, as to be subject to wicked men ? The
creatures indeed are made subject to vanity, God hath
subjected them to wicked men, and given them for their
use. This however he would not have done but as it is
only for a little while ; and the creatures can bear it through
the hope of approaching deliverance ; otherwise it would
have been intolerable. Rom. viii. 20. " For the creature
was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason

Serm. VII.

THE WICKED USEFUL IN THEIR DESTRUCTION ONLY.

127

of him who hath subjected the same in hope." — The crea
ture, as it were, groans by reason of this subjection to
wicked men, although it be but for a while, ver.' 22. " For
we know that the whole creation groaneth, and travaileth
in pain together until now." Therefore surely it would be
no way fit that wicked men, who do no good, and bring
forth no fruit to God, should live here always, to have the
various creatures subservient to them, as they are now.
The earth can scarcely bear wicked men during that short
time for which they stay here. It is no way fit, therefore,
that it should be forced to bear them always.
Men who bring forth no fruit to God are cumberers of
the ground. Luke xiii. 7. And it is not meet that they
should be suffered to cumber the ground always. God
cannot be glorified in this way of disposing of unfruitful
persons. If such men should be suffered to live always in
such a state as this, it would be so far from being to tlie
glory of God, that it would be to the disparagement of his
wisdom to continue them in a state so unsuitable for them.
It would also be a disparagement to his justice ; for this is
a world where " all things come alike to all, and there is
one event to the righteous and to the wicked." If there
were no other state but this for wicked men, justice could
not possibly take place. It would also reflect upon the holi
ness of God. For ever to uphold this world for a habita
tion of such persons, and for ever to continue the com
munications of his bounty and goodness to them, would
appear as though he were disposed to countenance and
encourage wickedness.
2. If men do not bring forth fruit to God, they are not
fit to be disposed of in heaven. Heaven, above all others,
is the most improper place for them. Every thing appertain
ing to that state is unsuitable for them. The company is
most unsuitable. The original inhabitants of that world
are the angels. . But what a disagreeable union would that
be, to unite wicked men and angels in the same society !
The employments of that world are unsuitable. The em
ployments are serving and glorifying God. How unsuit
able then would it be to plant barren trees in that heaven
ly paradise, trees that would bring forth no fruit to the
divine glory ! The enjoyments of heaven are unsuitable.
The enjoyments are holy and spiritual, the happiness of
beholding the glory of God, and praising his name, and the
like. But these enjoyments are as unsuitable as can be to
the carnal earthly minds of wicked men. They would be
no enjoyments to them ; but on the contrary would be most
disagreeable, and what they cannot relish, but entirely
nauseate. The design of heaven is unsuitable to them.
The design of God in making heaven was, that it might be
a place of holy habitation, for the reward of the righteous,
and not a habitation for the wicked. It would greatly re
flect on the wisdom of God to dispose of wicked men
there ; for it would be the greatest confusion. But God is
not the author of confusion, 1 Cor. xiv. 33. It would be
contrary to the holiness of God, to take wicked men so near
to himself, into his glorious presence, to dwell for ever in
the part of that creation which is, as it were, his own
palace, and to sit at his table. We read in Psal. v. 4.
" Thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness,
neither shall evil dwell with thee.' Therefore it would be
impossible that the end of the existence of wicked men
should be answered by placing them in heaven.
IV. Men who bring forth no fruit to God, may yet in
suffering destruction be useful. Although they be not use
ful by any thing they do ; yet they may be useful in what
they may suffer ; just as a barren tree, which is no way
useful standing in the vineyard, may be good fuel. God
can find use for the most wicked men : he hath his use for
vessels of wrath as well as for vessels of mercy : 2 Tim. ii.
20. " In a great house there are not only vessels of gold
and of silver, but also of wood and of earth, and some to
honour, and some to dishonour :" Prov. xvi. 4. " The Lord
hath made all things for himself; yea, even the wicked for
the day of evil." I shall briefly take notice of some ends
which God accomplishes by it.
1. Unfruitful persons are of use in their destruction for
the glory of God's justice. The vindictive justice of God
is a glorious attribute, as well as his mercy ; and the glory
of this attribute appears in the everlasting destruction and
ruin of the barren and unfruitful. — The glory of divine

justice in the perdition of ungodly men, appears wonderful
and glorious in the eyes ofthe saints and angels in heaven.
Hence we have an account, that they sing praises to God,
and extol his justice, at the sight of the awful judgments
which he inflicts on wicked men: Rev. xvi. 5, 6. " Thou
art righteous, O Lord, which art, and wast, and shalt be,
because thou hast judged thus: for they have shed the
blood of saints and prophets, and thou hast given them
blood to drink ; for they are worthy :" and Rev. xix. 1, 2.
" And after these things I heard a great voice, saying,
Alleluia; salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, un
to the Lord our God : for true and righteous are his judg
ments ; for he hath judged the great whore, which did cor
rupt the earth with her fornication, and hath avenged the
blood of his servants at her hand."
2. Unfruitful persons in their destruction are of use for
God to glorify his majesty upon them. The awful majesty
of God remarkably appears in those dreadful and amazing
punishments which he inflicts on those who rise up against
him. A sense ofthe majesty of an earthly prince is sup
ported very much by a sense of its being a dreadful thing
to affront him. God glorifies his own majesty in the de
struction of wicked men ; and herein he appears infinitely
great, in that it appears to be an infinitely dreadful thing to
offend him. How awful doth the majesty of God appear
in the dreadfulness of his anger ! This we mav learn to be
one end of the damnation of the wicked, from Rom. ix. 22.
" What if God, willing to show his wrath, and to niake
his power known, endured with much long-suffering the
vessels of wrath fitted to destruction ?" This is a part of
his majesty and glory. God tells Pharaoh, that for this
cause he raised him "up, that he might show his power in
him, and that his name might be declared through all the
earth, in his destruction, Exod. ix. 15, 16. and again,
chap. xiv. 17. " I will get me honour upon Pharaoh,
and upon all his host, upon his chariots, and upon his
horsemen." 3. The destruction of the unfruitful is of use, to give
the saints a greater sense of their happiness, and of God's
grace to them. The wicked will be destroyed and torment
ed in the view of the saints, and other inhabitants of heaven.
This we are taught in Rev. xiv. 10. " The same shall drink
of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out with
out mixture, into the cup of his indignation ; and he shall
be tormented with fire and brimstone, in the presence of
his holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb." And
in Isa. lxvi. 24. " And they shall go forth, and look upon
the carcasses ofthe men that have transgressed against me:
for their worm shall not die, neither shall their fire be
quenched, and they shall be an abhorring unto all flesh."
When the saints in heaven shall look upon the damned in
hell, it will serve to give them a greater sense of their own
happiness. When they shall see how dreadful the anger
of God is, it will make them the more prize his love.
They will rejoice the more, that they are not the objects of
God's anger, but of his favour ; that they are not the sub
jects of his dreadful wrath, but are treated as his children,
to dwell in the everlasting embraces of his love. The
misery of the damned will give them a greater sense of the
distinguishing grace and love of God to them, that he
should from all eternity set his love on them, and make so
great a difference between them and others who are of the
same species, and have deserved no worse of God than
they. What a great sense will this give them of the wonder
ful grace of God to them ! and how will it heighten their
praises ! with how much greater admiration and exulta
tion of soul will they sing of the free and sovereign grace
of God to them !
When they shall look upon the damned, and see their
misery, how will heaven ring with the praises of God's jus
tice towards the wicked, and his grace towards the saints 1
And with how much greater enlargement of heart will they
praise Jesus Christ, their Redeemer, that ever he was
pleased to set his love upon them, his dying love 1 and that
he should so distinguish them as to shed his blood, and
make his soul an offering to redeem them from that misery,
and to bring them to such happiness ! With what love
and ecstacy will they sing that song in Rev. v. 9, 10.
" Thou art worthy : for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed
us to God by thy blood, out of every tongue, and kindred,

128

SEVEN SERMONS.

and people, and nation ; and hast made us unto our God
kings and priests." One end, which the apostle mentions,
why God appointed vessels of wrath, is the more to make
known the wonderfulness of his mercy towards the saints.
In Rom. ix. 22, 23. there are two ends mentioned : " What
if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his power
known, endured with much long-suffering the vessels of
wrath fitted to destruction ?" That is one end ; another is
mentioned immediately after : " And that he might make
known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which
he had afore prepared unto glory ?"
APPLICATION.
I. Hence we may learn, how just and righteous God is
in the destruction of those who bring forth no fruit to him.
Seeing there is no other way in which the end of their
being can be obtained, certainly it is most just that God
should thus dispose of them. Why should he be frustrated
of his end through their perverseness ? If men will not do
the work for which he hath made and fitted them ; if they,
through a spirit of opposition and rebellion, refuse ; why
should God suffer himself to be disappointed of his end in
making them ? It doth not become his infinite greatness
and majesty to suffer himself to be frustrated by the
wickedness and perverseness of sinful worms of the dust.
If God should suffer this, it would seem to argue, either a
want of wisdom to fix u pon a good end, or a want of power
to accomplish it. — God made all men that they might be
useful ; and if they will not be useful in their conduct and
actions, how just is it that God should make them useful
in their sufferings ! He made all men for his own glory ;
and if they, contrary to the revealed will of God, refuse to
glorify him actively and willingly, how just is it that God
should glorify himself upon them !
Men are under no natural necessity of being put to this
use of glorifying God in their sufferings. God .gives them
opportunity of glorifying him in bringing forth fruit, puts
them under advantages for it, and uses many means to
bring them to it. But if they will not be useful in this
way, it is very just that God should make them useful in
the only remaining way in which they can be useful, viz.
in their destruction. God is not forward to put them to
this use. He tells us, that he hath " no pleasure in the
death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his
way, and live;" Ezek. xxxiii. 11. He represents the de
struction of sinners as a work to which he is backward ;
yet it is meet that they should be destroyed, rather than
that they should be suffered to frustrate the end of their
being. Who can blame the husbandman for cutting down
and burning a barren tree, after he hath digged about it,
and dunged it, and used all proper means to make it fruit
ful ? — Let those among us consider this, who have lived
all their lives hitherto unprofitably, and never have brought
forth any fruit to God's glory, notwithstanding all the
means that have been used with them. Considen how
just it would be if God should utterly destroy you, and
glorify himself upon you in that way ; and what a won
derful patience it is, that God hath not done it before now.
II. This subject ought to put you upon examining
yourselves, whether you be not wholly useless creatures.
You have now heard, that those who bring forth no fruit
to God, are, as to any good they do, wholly useless. In
quire, therefore, whether you have ever done any thing
from a gracious respect to God, or out of love to him?
Seeking only your worldly interest, or for you to come to
public worship on the sabbath, to pray in your families,
and other such things, merely in compliance with the
general custom— or that you be sober, moral, and reli
gious, only to be seen of men, or out of respect to your
own credit and honour— is not bringing forth fruit to God.
How is that for God which is only for the sake of custom,
the esteem of men, or merely from the fear of hell ? What
thanks are due to you for not loving your own misery, and
for being willing to take some pains to escape burning in
hell to all eternity? There is not a devil in hell, but
would do the same : Hos. x. 1. " Israel is an empty vine •
he bringeth forth fruit unto himself."
There is no fruit brought forth to God, where there is
nothing done from love, or true respect to him. God

looketh at the heart. He doth not stand in need of our
services, neither is he benefited by any thing that we can
do. He doth not receive any thing of us, but only as a
suitable testimony of our love and respect to him. This
is the fruit that he seeks. Men themselves will not accept
of those shows of friendship, which they think are hypo
critical, and come not from the heart. How much less
should God, who searcheth the hearts and trieth the reins
of the children of men ! John iv. 24. " God is a Spirit,
and they that worship him must worship him in spirit
and in truth." — Inquire, therefore, whether you ever did
the least thing out of love to God ? Have you not done
all for yourselves? Zech. vii. 5, 6. " When ye fasted and
mourned in the fifth and seventh month, even those seventy
years, did ye at all fast unto me, even unto me ? And
when ye did eat, and when ye did drink, did ye not eat
for yourselves, and drink for yourselves?"
III. Another use of this subject may be of conviction
and humiliation to those who never have brought forth
any fruit to God. If, upon examination, you find that
you have never in all your lives done any thing out of a
true respect to God, then it hath been demonstrated, that,
as to any thing which you do, you are altogether useless
creatures. And consider, what a shameful thing it is for
such rational beings as you are, and placed under such
advantages for usefulness, yet to be wholly useless, and to
live in the world to no purpose ! We esteem it a very
mean character in any person, that he is worthless and
insignificant ; and to be called so is taken as a great re
proach. But consider seriously, whether you can clear
yourselves of this character. Set reason to work ; can you
rationally suppose, that you do in any measure answer
the end for which God gave you your being, and made
you of a nature superior to the beasts ? — But that you may
be sensible what cause you have to be ashamed of your
unprofitableness, consider the following things :
1. How much God hath bestowed upon you, in the en
dowments of your nature. God hath made you rational,
intelligent creatures, hath endued you with noble powers,
those endowments wherein the natural image of God con
sists. You are vastly exalted in your nature above other
kinds of creatures here below. You are capable of a thou
sand times as much as any of the brute creatures. He
hath given you a power of understanding, which is capa
ble of extending itself, of looking back to the beginning of
time, and of considering what was before the world, and
of looking forward beyond the end of time. It is capable
of extending beyond the utmost limits of the universe;
and is a faculty whereby you are akin to angels, and are
capable even of knowing and contemplating the Divine
Being, and his glorious perfections, manifested in his works
and in his word. You have souls capable of being the
habitation of the Holy Spirit of God, and his divine grace.
You are capable of the noble employments of angels.
How lamentable and shameful is it, that such a creature
should be altogether useless, and live in vain ! How
lamentable that such a noble and excellent piece of divine
workmanship should fail of its end, and be to no purpose !
Was it ever worth while- for God to make you such a
creature, with such a noble nature, and so much above
other kinds of creatures, only to eat, and drink, and gratify
your sensual appetites ? How lamentable and shameful
to you, that such a noble tree should be more useless than
any tree of the forest ; that man, whom God hath thus set,
in honour, should make himself more worthless than the
beasts that perish !
2. How much God hath done for you in the creation of
the world. He made the earth', and seas, and all their
fu Iness, for the use of man : Psal. cxv. 16." The earth hath
he given to the children of men." He made the vast
variety of creatures for man's use and service : Gen. i. 28.
" Have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the
fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth
upon the earth." For the same purpose he made all the
plants, and herbs, and trees of the field : Gen. i. 29. " I
have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the
face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the
fruit of a tree, yielding seed ; to you it shall be for meat."
He made the sun in the heavens, that glorious luminary,
that wonderful globe of light, to give light to man, and to

Serm. VII.

THE WICKED USEFUL IN THEIR DESTRUCTION ONLY.

constitute the difference between day and night. He also
made the moon, and the vast multitude of stars, to lie to
him signs and seasons. What great provision hath God
made for man ! What a vast variety of good things for
food and convenience, to put him under advantages to be
useful ! How lamentable is it, then, that after all these
things he should be an useless creature !
3. How much is done for you in the course of God's
common providence ! Consider how nature is continually
labouring for you. The sun is, as it were, in a ferment for
mankind, and spending his rays upon man to put him
under advantage to be useful. The winds and clouds are
continually labouring for you, and the waters are going in
a constant circulation, ascending in the air from the seas,
descending in rain, gathering in streams and rivers, return
ing to the sea, and again ascending and descending for you.
The earth is continually labouring to bring forth her fruit
for your support. The trees of the field, and many of the
poor brute creatures, are continually labouring and spend
ing their strength for you ! How much of the fulness of
the earth is spent upon you ! How many of God's crea
tures are devoured by you ! How many of the lives of
the living creatures of God are destroyed for your sake,
for your support and comfort ! — Now, how lamentable
will it be, if, after all,, you be altogether useless, and live
to no purpose ! What mere cumberers of the ground will
you be ! Luke xiii. 7. Nature, which thus continually
iabours for you, will be burdened with you. This seems
to be what the apostle means, Rom. viii. 20, 21, 22. where
he tells us, that the creation is made subject to vanity, and
brought into the bondage of corruption ; and that the whole
creation groans, and travails in pain, under this bondage.
4. How much is done for you in the use ofthe means qf
grace. How much hath God done to provide you with
suitable means and advantages for usefulness ! How many
prophets hath he sent into the world, in different ages, in
spiring them with his Holy Spirit, and enabling them to
work many miracles to confirm their word, whereby you
now have his written word to instruct you ! How great a
thing hath God done for you, to give you opportunity and
advantage to be useful, in that he hath sent his own Son
into the world ! He who is really and truly God, united
himself to the human nature, and became man, to be a
{irophet and teacher to you and other sinners. Yea, he
aid down his life to make atonement for sin, that you
might have encouragement to serve God with hopes of
acceptance.— How many ordinances have been instituted
for you ! How much of the labour of the ministers of
God hath been spent upon you ! Is not that true concern
ing you which is said (Isa. v.) of the vineyard planted in a
very fruitful hill, and fenced and cultivated with peculiar
care and pains, which yet proved unfruitful ? How much
hath the dresser of the vineyard digged about the barren
tree, and dunged it, and yet it remains barren !
5. Consider what a shame it is that you should live in
vain, when all the other creatures, inferior to you, glorify
their Creator, according to their nature. You who are so
highly exalted in the world, are more useless than the
brute creation ; yea, than the meanest worms, or things
without life, as earth and stones : for they all answer their
end ; none of them fail of it. They are all useful in their
places, all render their proper tribute of praise to their
Creator : while you are mere nuisances in the creation,
and burdens to the earth ; as any tree of the forest is more
useful than the vine, if it bear not fruit.
IV. Let me, in a further application of this doctrine,
evhort you by all means to bring forth fruit to God. Let
it be your constant endeavour to be in this way actively
useful in the world.  Here consider three things.
1 . What an honour it will be to such poor creatures as
you are to bring forth fruit to the divine glory. What is
such a poor worm as man, that he should be enabled to
bring forth any fruit to God ! It is the greatest honour of
his nature, that God hath given him a capacity of glorify
ing the great Creator. There is no creature in the visible
world that is capable of actively glorifying God, but man.
2. In bringing forth fruit to God, you will be so profit
able to none as to yourselves. You cannot thereby be
profitable to v. od ; Job xxii. 2. " Can a man be profitable
to God?" And though thereby you may be profitable to

129
your fellow-creatures ; yet the fruit which you bring forth
to God will be a greater benefit to yourselves than to any
one living. — Although you are under a natural obligation
to bring forth fruit to God, yet he will richly reward you
for it. In requiring you to bring forth fruit to him, he cloth
but require you to bring forth fruit to your own happiness.
You will taste the sweetness of your own fruit. It wili
be most profitable for you in this world, and the pleasure
will be beyond the labour. Beside this, God hath pro
mised to such a life, everlasting rewards, unspeakable,
infinite benefits. So that by it you will infinitely advance
your own interest.
3. If you remain thus unprofitable, and be not actively
useful, surely God will obtain his end of you, in your
destruction. He will say concerning the barren tree," Cut
it down, why cumbereth it the ground ?" Christ, John xv.
6. tells us, " If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as
a branch, and is withered ; and men gather them, and cast
them into the fire, and they are burned." This is spoken
of the barren branches in the vine. How would you your
selves do in such a case with a barren tree in an orchard,
or with weeds and tares in your fields ? Doubtless, if it
were in your power, you would utterly destroy them. —
God will have his end; he will not be frustrated. Though
all men and devils unite their endeavours, they cannot
frustrate God in any thing ; and " though hand join in
hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished ;" Prov: xi. 21.
God hath sworn by his great name, that he will have his
glory of men, whether they will actively glorify him or
no. Numb. xiv. 21, 22, 23. " But as truly as I live, all
the earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord. Be
cause all those men which have seen my glory, and my
miracles which I did in Egypt and in the wilderness, and
have tempted me now these ten times, and have not
hearkened to my voice ; surely they shall not see the land
which I sware unto their fathers, neither shall any of them
that provoked me, see it." — " The axe Heth at the root of
the trees ; and every tree which bringeth not forth good
fruit, is hewn down, and cast into the fire;" Matt. iii. 10.
The end of those men who bring forth nothing but briers
and thorns, is to be burned, as in Heb. vi. 7, 8. " For the
earth which drinketh in the rain that cometh oft upon it, and
bringeth forth herbs meet for them by whom it is dressed,
receiveth blessing from God : but that which beareth thorns
and briers, is rejected, and is nigh unto cursing ; whose
end is to be burned." So we read of the tares, Matt. xiii.
30. " Let both grow together until the harvest ; and in the
time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye together
first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them ;"
and in verses 40, 41, 42. " As therefore the tares are gather
ed and burned in the fire, so shall it be at the end of the
world. The Son of man shall send forth his angels, and
they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend,
and them which do iniquity, and shall cast them into a
furnace of fire : there shall be wailing and gnashing of
teeth."— So it is said of the chaff, Matt. iii. 12. " Whose
fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor,
and gather his wheat into the garner : but he will burn up
the chaff with unquenchable fire."
If you continue not to bring forth any fruit to the divine
glory, hell will be the only fit place for you. It is a place
prepared on purpose to be a receptacle of such persons.
In hell nature ceases to labour any more for sinners. There
they will have no opportunity to consume the fruits of
divine goodness on their lusts ; there they can prejudice or
encumber nothing, upon which God sets any value.
There no faithful servants and ministers of God will any
longer spend their strength in vain upon them. When the
barren tree is in the fire, the servants of the husbandman
are freed from any further labour about it. — In hell the
fruitless will no more have opportunity to clog and dis
courage the flourishing of religion, and to destroy much
good, as they often do in this world ; they will no more
have opportunity to corrupt others by their ill example ;
they will no more have it in their power to offend the godly;
they may hurt and torment one another ; but the godly
will be out of their reach. In hell there will be no ordi
nances, no sabbaths, no sacraments, no sacred things, for
them to profane and defile by their careless and hypocriti
cal attendance ; but unceasing woe for their abuse.

MISCELLANEOUS DISCOURSES

MEN NATURALLY ARE GOD'S ENEMIES.

Romans v. 10.
For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God
by the death of his Son.
The apostle, from the beginning of the epistle, to the
beginning of this chapter, had insisted on the doctrine of
justification by faith alone. In this chapter he goes on to
consider the benefits that are consequent on justification,
viz. Peace with God, present happiness, and hope of
glory. Peace with God is mentioned in the first verse,
" Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with
God, through our Lord Jesus Christ." In the following
verses he speaks of present blessedness, and hope of glory.
" By whom also we have access by faith into this grace,
wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of
God." — And concerning this benefit, the hope of glory,
the apostle particularly takes notice of two things, viz. the
blessed nature of this hope, and the sure ground of it.
1 . He insists on the blessed nature of this hope, in that
it enables us to glory in tribulations. This excellent nature
of true christian hope is described in the following words :
(ver. 3 — 5.) " And not only so, but we glory in tribulations
also, knowing that tribulation worketh patience ; and
patience, experience ; and experience hope ; and hope
maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed
abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given
unto us." As if he had said, Through hope of a blessed
reward, that will abundantly more than make up for all
tribulation, we are enabled to bear tribulation with pa
tience ; patiently bearing, and patiently waiting for the
reward. And patience works experience ; for when we
thus bear tribulation with patient waiting for the reward,
this brings experience of the earnest of the reward, viz.
the earnest of the Spirit, in our feeling the love of God
shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost. So that
our hope does not make us ashamed : it is not disap
pointed ; for in the midst of our tribulation, we experience
those blessed incomes of the Spirit in our souls, that make
even a time of tribulation sweet to us ; and is such an
earnest as abundantly confirms our hope ; and so expe
rience works hope.
2. The apostle takes notice of the sure ground there is
for this hope ; or the abundant evidence we have, that we
shall obtain the glory hoped for, in that peace we have
with God, by our justification through Christ's blood.
For while we were without strength, in due time Christ
died for us ; even while we were ungodly and sinners,
enemies to God and Christ. (See ver. 6 — 10.) The
apostle's argument is exceeding clear and strong. If God
has done already so great a thing for us, as to give us
Christ to die and shed his precious blood for us, which
was vastly the greatest thing, we need not doubt but that
he will bestow life upon us. It is but a small thing for
God actually to bestow eternal life, after it is purchased ;
to what it is for him to give his own Son to die, in order
to purchase it. The giving Christ to purchase it, was vir
tually all : it included the whole grace of God in salvation.
When Christ had purchased salvation at such a dear rate,
all the difficulty was got through, all was virtually over arid

done. It is a small thing, in comparison, for God to be3tov»
salvation, after it has been thus purchased at a full price.
Sinners who are justified by the death of Christ, are
already virtually saved : the thing is, as it were, done :
what remains, is no more than the necessary consequence
of what is done. Christ when he died made an end of
sin : and when he rose from the dead, he did virtually
rise with the elect : he brought them up from death with
him, and ascended into heaven with them. And therefore,
when this is already done, and we are thus reconciled to
God through the death of his Son, we need not fear hut
that we shall be saved by his life. The love of God ap
pears much more in his giving his Son to die for sinners,
than in giving eternal life after Christ's death.
The giving of Christ to die for us is here spoken of as
a much greater thing, than the actual bestowment of life ;
because this is all that has any difficulty in it. — When
God did this for us, he did it for us as sinners and
enemies. But in actually bestowing salvation on us after
we are justified, we are not looked upon as sinners, but as
perfectly righteous persons : he beholds no iniquity in us.
We are no more enemies, but reconciled. When God
gave Christ to die for the elect, he looked on them as they
are in themselves ; but in actually bestowing eternal life,
he looks on them as they are in Christ.
There are three epithets used in the text and context, as
appertaining to sinners as they are in themselves, ver. 6 — 8.
They are without strength, they cannot help themselves.
— They are ungodly or sinners,— and they are enemies : as
in the text.  Natural men are God s enemies.
God, though the Creator of all things, yet has some
enemies in the world. — Men in general will own, that they
are sinners. There are few, if any, whose consciences are
so blinded as not to be sensible they have been guilty of
sin. And most sinners will own that they have bad hearts.
They will own that they do not love God so much as
they should do ; that they are not so thankful as they
ought to be for mercies ; and that in many things they
fail. And yet few of them are sensible that they are
God's enemies. They do not see how they can be truly
so called ; for they are not sensible that they wish God
any hurt, or endeavour to do him any.
But we see that the Scripture speaks of them as enemies
to God. So in our text, and elsewhere, "And you that
were sometime alienated, and enemies in your niinds by
wicked works." Col. i. 21. "The carnal mind is enmity
against God." Rom. vii. 7. — And that all natural or un
regenerate men are indeed such, is what I shall endeavour
now particularly to show. Which I propose to do in the
following method. Particularly — In what respects they are
enemies to God — To how great a degree they are enemies
— And why they are enemies. Then I shall answer some
objections.
SECT. I.
In what respects natural men are God's enemies.
1. Their enmity appears in their judgments, their
natural relish, their wills, affections, and practice. They
have a very mean esteem of God. Men are ready to

Sect. I.

IN WHAT RESPECTS, ENEMIES.

31

entertain a good esteem of those with whom they are
friends : they are apt to think highly of their qualities, to
give them their due praises ; and if there be defects, to
cover them . But of those to whom they are enemies, they
are disposed to have mean thoughts ; they are apt to
entertain a dishonourable opinion of them : they will be
ready to look contemptibly upon any thing that is praise
worthy in them.
So it is with natural men towards God. They entertain
very low and contemptible thoughts of God. Whatever
honour and respect they may pretend, and make a show of
towards God, if their practice be examined, it will show,
that they certainly look u pon him as a Being that is but lit
tle to be regarded. The language of their hearts is, " Who
is the Lord, that I should obey his voice ?" Exod. v. 2.
" What is the Almighty, that we should serve him? and
what profit should we have if we pray unto him ?" Job xxi.
15. Thev count him worthy neither to be loved nor
feared. They dare not behave with that slight and disre
gard towards one of their fellow-creatures, when a little
raised above them in power and authority, as they dare,
anddo, towards God. They value one of their equals much
more than God, and are ten times more afraid of offending
such, than of displeasing the God that made them. They
cast such exceeding contempt on God, as to prefer every
vile lust before him. And every worldly enjoyment is set
higher iii their esteem, than God. A morsel of meat, or a
few pence of worldly gain, is preferred before him . God is
set last and lowest in the esteem of natural men.
2. They are enemies in the natural relish of their souls.
They have an inbred distaste and disrelish of God's per
fections. God is not such a being as they would have.
Though they are ignorant of God ; yet from what they hear
of him, and from what is manifest by the light of nature,
they do not like him. By his being endowed with such
attributes as he is, they have an aversion to him. They
hear God is an infinitely holy, pure, and righteous Being,
and they do not like him upon this account ; they have no
relish of such qualifications : they take no delight in con
templating them. It would be a mere task, a bondage to
a natural man, to be obliged to set himself to contemplate
those attributes of God. They see no manner of beauty or
loveliness, nor taste any sweetness, in them. And on ac
count of their distaste of these perfections, they dislike all
his other attributes. They have greater aversion to him
because he is omniscient and knows all things ; and be
cause his omniscience is a holy omniscience. They are
not pleased that he is omnipotent, and can do whatever he
pleases ; because it is a holy omnipotence. They are ene
mies even to his mercy, because it is a holy mercy. They
do not like his immutability, because by this he never will
be otherwise than he is, an infinitely hoiy God.
It is from this disrelish that natural men have of the at
tributes of God, that they do not love to have much to do
with God. The natural tendency of the heart of man is to
fly from God, and keep at a distance from him, as far off
as possible. — A natural man is averse to communion with
God, and is naturally disinclined to those exercises of reli
gion, wherein he has immediately to do with him. It is
said of wicked men, Psal. x. 4. " God is not in all their
thoughts." It is evident, that the mind of man is naturally
averse to thinking about God : and hence if any thoughts
of him be suggested to the mind, they soon go away ; such
thoughts are not apt to rest in the minds of natural men.
If any thing is said to them of God, they are apt to forget
it : it is like seed that falls upon the hard path, the fowls
of the air soon take it away : or like seed that falls upon a
rock. Other things will stick ; but divine things rebound :
and if they were cast into the mind, they meet with that
there which soon thrusts them out again : they meet with
no suitable entertainment, but are soon chased away.
Hence also it is, that natural men are with difficulty per
suaded to be constant in the duty of secret prayer. They
would not be so averse to spending a quarter of an hour,
night and morning, in some bodily labour ; but itisbecause
they are averse to a work, wherein they have so immedi
ately to do with God ; and they naturally love to keep at
a distance from him,
3. Their wills are contrary to his will. God's will and
theirs are exceeding cross the one to the other. God wills
K 2

those things that they hate, and are most averse to ; and
they will those things that God hates. Hence they oppose
God in their wills: there is a dreadful, violent, and ob
stinate opposition of the will of natural men to the will
of God.
They are very opposite to the commands of God. It is
from the enmity ofthe will, (Rom. vii. 7.) that " the car
nal mind is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed
can be." Hence natural men are enemies to God's go
vernment. They are not loyal subjects, but enemies to
God, considered as Lord of the world. They are entire
enemies to God's authority.
4. They are enemies to God in their affections. There is
in every natural man a seed of malice against God. And
it often dreadfully breaks forth. Though it may in great
measure lie hid in secure times, when God lets men alone,
and they meet with no great disturbance of body or mind ;
yet, if God does but touch men in their consciences, by
manifesting to them a little of his wrath for their sins, this
oftentimes brings out the principle of malice against him.
This is exercised in dreadful heart-risings, inward wranglings
and quarrelings, and blasphemous thoughts; wherein the
heart is like a viper, hissing and spitting poison at God. And
however free from it the heart may seem to be, when let
alone and secure, yet a very little thing will set it in a rage.
Temptations will show what is in the heart. The alteration
of aman's circumstances will often discover the heart. Pha
raoh had no more natural enmity against God than other
men ; and if other natural men had been in Pharaoh's cir
cumstances, the same corruptions would have put forth
themselves in as dreadful a manner. The scribes and
Pharisees had naturally no more malice in their hearts
against Christ, than other men, and other natural men
would, in their case, and having as little restraint, exercise
as much malice against Christ as they did. When wicked
men come to be cast into hell, then their malice against
God will appear. Then their hearts will appear as full of
malice, as hell is full of fire. But when wicked men come
to be in hell, there will be no new corruptions put into
their heart ; but only old ones will then break forth with
out restraint. That is all the difference between a wicked
man on earth, and a wicked man in hell, that in hell there
will be more to stir up the exercise of corruption, and less
to restrain it, than on earth : but there will be no new cor
ruption put in. A wicked man will have no principle of
corruption in hell, but what he carried to hell with him.
There are now the seeds of all the malice that will be ex
ercised then. The malice of damned spirits is but a
branch of the root, that is in the hearts of natural men
now. A natural man has a heart like the heart of a devil ;
only corruption is more under restraint in man than in
devils. 5. They are enemies in their practice. They walk con
trary to him. In their enmity against God, they are ex
ceeding active. They are engaged in war against God.
Indeed they cannot injure God, he is so much above them ;
but yet they do what they can. They oppose themselves
to his honour and glory : they oppose themselves to the
interest of his kingdom in the world : they oppose them
selves to the will and command of God : and oppose him
in his government. They oppose God in his works, and in
his declared designs ; while he is doing one work, they are
doing the contrary. God seeks one thing, and they seek
directly the contrary. They list under Satan's banner, and
are his willing soldiers in opposing the kingdom of God.
SECT. IL-
The degree qf men's natural enmity to God.
I now proceed to say something with respect to the de
gree of this enmity : tending in some measure to show,
how great enemies to God are natural men.
1 . They have no love to God ; their enmity is mere en
mity without any mixture of love. A natural man is
wholly destitute of any principle of love to God, and there
fore never had the least exercise of this love. Some natural
men have better tempers than others ; and some are better
educated than others ; and some live a great deal more
soberly than others : but one has no more love to God than

132

MEN NATURALLY GOD'S ENEMIES.

another ; for none have the least spark of that. The heart
of a natural man is as destitute of love to God, as a dead,
stiff, cold corpse is of vital heat. John v. 43. " I know
you, that ye have not the love of God in you."
2. Every faculty and principle of action is wholly under
the dominion of enmity against God. The nature of man
is wholly infected with this enmity against God. He is
tainted with it throughout, in all his faculties and princi
ples. And not only so, but every faculty is entirely and
perfectly subdued under it, and enslaved to it. This en
mity against God, has the absolute possession of the man.
The apostle Paul, speaking of what he was naturally, says,
Rom. vii. 14. " I am carnal, sold under sin."
The understanding is under the reigning power of this
enmity against God, so that it is entirely darkened and
blinded with regard to the glory and excellency of God.
The will is wholly under the reigning power of it. All
the affections are governed i>y enmity against God : there
is not one affection, nor one desire, lhat a natural man has,
or that he is ever stirred up to act from, but what con
tains in it enmity against God. A natural man is as full of
enmity against God, as any viper, or any venomous beast,
is full of poison.
3. The power of the enmity of natural men against
God, is so great, that it is insuperable by any finite power.
It has too great and strong a possession of the heart, to be
overcome by any created power. Indeed, a natural man
never sincerely strives to root out his enmity against God ;
his endeavours are hypocritical ; he delights in his enmity,
and chooses it. Neither can others do it, though they
sincerely, and to their utmost, endeavour to overcome this
enmity. If godly friends and neighbours labour to per
suade them to cast away their enmity, and become friends
to God, they cannot persuade them to it. Though minis
ters use never so many arguments and entreaties, and set
forth the loveliness of God ; tell them of the goodness of
God to them, hold forth God's own gracious invitations,
and entreat them never so earnestly to cast off their op
position, and be reconciled ; yet they cannot overcome it :
still they will be as bad enemies to God, as ever they
were. — The tongue of men or of angels cannot persuade
them to relinquish their opposition to God. Miracles will
not do it. — How many miracles did the children of Israel
see in the wilderness ! yet their enmity against God re
mained ; as appeared by their often murmuring. And
how often did Christ use miracles to this end without
effect, but the Jews obstinately stood out. Matt, xxiii.
37. " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the pro
phets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, now
often would I have gathered thy children together, even as
a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye
would not." And how great did the enmity of these peo
ple appear to be after all ; how spiteful and venomous
were their hearts towards Christ, as appears by their cruel
treatment of him, in his last sufferings !
4. They are mortal enemies to God ; i. e. They have
that enmity in their hearts, that strikes at the life of God.
A man may be no friend to another, and may have an
ill spirit towards him ; and yet not be his mortal enemy :
his enmity will be satisfied with something short of the
death of the person. But it is not so with natural men,
with respect to God : they are mortal enemies. Their im
becility is no argument that this is not the tendency of the
principle. Natural men are enemies to the dominion of God ; and
their nature shows their good-will to dethrone him if they
could ! Yea, they are enemies to the being of God, and
would be glad if there was no God. And therefore it ne
cessarily follows, that they would cause that there should
be none, if they could. Psal. xiv. 1 . « The fool hath said
in his heart, There is no God." This implies, not only an
aptness to question the being of God ; but, that he in
clines it should be so. His heart says, i. e. his inclina
tion says. The words in the original are, " The fool hath
said in his heart, Nq God." That is, 1 would have none,
I do not desire any, I wish there was none ; that would
suit my inclination best. Let the world be emptied of a
God, he stands in my way. And hence he is an atheist
in his heart.
The viper's poison is deadly poison ; and when he bites

he seeks the precious life. And men are in this respect a
generation of vipers. Their poison, which is enmity against
God, seeks the life of God. Matt. iii. 7. " O generation
of vipers." Psal. lviii. 3, 4. " The wicked are estranged
from the womb — Their poison is like the poison of a ser
pent." Deut. xxxii. 32, 33. " For their vine is the vine
of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah : their grapes are
the grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter. Their vine is
the poison of dragons, and the cruel venom of asps." The
divine nature being immortal, and infinitely out of our
reach, there is no other trial possible, whether the enmity
that is naturally in the heart against God, be mortal or no,
but only for God to take on him the human nature, and
become man ; so as to come within man's reach. There
can be no other experiment. And what has been the
event ? Why, when once God became man, and came
down to dwell here, among such vipers as fallen men,
they hated and persecuted him ; and never desisted till
they had imbrued their hands in his blood. There was a
multitude of them that appeared combined in this design.
Nothing would do, but he must be put to death. All cry
out, Crucify him, crucify him. Away with him. They
had rather Barabbas, who greatly deserved death, should
live, than he should not die. Nothing would restrain
them from it ; even all his preaching, and all his mira
cles : but they would kill him. And it was not the ordi
nary kind of execution that would satisfy them ; but it
must be the most cruel and most ignominious they pos
sibly could invent. And they aggravated it as much as
they could, by mocking him, and spitting on him, and
scourging him. This shows what the nature and tendency
of man's enmity against God is ; here it appeared in its
true colours.
5. Natural men are greater enemies to God than they
are to any other being whatsoever. Natural men may be
very great enemies to their fellow-creatures; but not so
great as they are to God. There is no other being that so
much stands in sinners' way, in those things that they
chiefly set their hearts upon, as God. Men are wont to
hate their enemies in proportion to two things, viz. their
opposition to what they look upon to be their interest, — and
their power and ability. A great and powerful enemy
will be more hated, than one who is weak and impotent.
But none is so powerful as God.
Man's enmity to others may be got over : time may
wear it out, and they may be reconciled. But natural
men, without a mighty work of God to change their
hearts, will never get over their enmity against God. They
are greater enemies to God, than they are to the devii.
Yea, they treat the devil as their friend and master, and
join with him against God. John viii. 44. " Ye are of your
father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do:
he was a murderer from the beginning."
SECT. III.
On what account men are enemies to God.
The general reason is, That God is opposite to them in
the worship of their idols. The apostacy of man summarily
consists in departing from the true God, to idols ; forsaking
his Creator, and setting up other things in his room.
When God at first created man, he was united to his
Creator; the God that made him was his God. The true
God was the object of his highest respect, and had the
possession of his heart. Love to God was the principle
in his heart, that ruled over all other principles ; and every
thing in the soul was wholly in subjection to it. But
when man fell, he departed from the true God, and the
union that was between his heart and his Creator was
broken : he wholly lost his principle of love to God. And
henceforward man clave to other gods. He gave that re
spect to the creature, which is due to the Creator. — When
God ceased to be the object of bis su preme love and respect,
other things of course became the objects of it.
Man will necessarily have something that he respects as
his god. If man do not give his highest respect to the
God that made him, there will be something else that has
the possession of it. Men will either worship the true
God, or some idol : it is impossible it should be otherwise:

Sect. Ill,

WHY ENEMIES TO GOD.'

133

something will have the heart of man. And that which a
man gives his heart to, may be called his god : and there
fore when man by the fell extinguished all love to the true
God, he set up the creature in his room. For having lost
his esteem and love of the true God, and set up other gods
in his room, and in opposition to him ; and God still de
manding their worship, and opposing them ; enmity neces
sarily follows.
That which a man chooses for his god, he sets his heart
mainly upon. And nothing will so soon excite enmity, as
opposition in that which is dearest. A man will be the
greatest enemy to him who opposes him in what he chooses
for his god : he will look on none as standing so much in
his way, as he lhat would deprive him of his god. Judg.
xviii. 24. " Ye have taken away my gods; and what
have I more ?" A man, in this respect, cannot serve two
masters, that stand in competition for his service. And
not only, if he serves one, he cannot serve the other ; but
if he cleaves to one, he will necessarily hate the other.
Matt. vi. 24. " No man can serve two masters ; for either
he will hate the one, and love the other, or else he will
hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve
God and mammon." And this is the very reason that men
hate God. In this case it is, as when two kings set up in
one kingdom, in opposition one to the other ; and they
both challenge the same throne, and are competitors for
the same crown : they who are loyal, hearty subjects to the
one, will necessarily be enemies to the other. As that
which is a man's god, is the object of his highest love ; so
that God who chiefly opposes him in it, must be the ob
ject of his greatest hatred.
The gods which a natural man worships, instead of the
God that made him, are himself and the world. He has
withdrawn his esteem and honour from God, and proudly
exalts himself. As Satan was not willing to be in sub
jection; and therefore rebelled, and set up himself; so a
natural man, in the proud and high thoughts he has of
himself, sets up himself upon God's throne. He gives
his heart to the world, worldly riches, worldly pleasures,
and worldly honours : they have the possession of that re
gard which is due to God. The apostle sums up all the
idolatry of wicked men in their love of the world. 1 John
ii. 15, 16. " Love not the world, neither the things that
are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the
Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust
of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, is not
of the Father, but is of the world." And the apostle James
observes, that a man must necessarily be the enemy of the
true God, if he be a friend of the world. " Whosoever
therefore will be a friend of the world, is the enemy of
God." James iv. 4.
All the sin that men commit, is what they do in the ser
vice of their idols : there is no one act of sin, but what is
an act of service to some false god. And therefore where
in soever God opposes sin in them, he is opposite to their
worship of their idols: on' which account they are his
enemies. God opposes them in their service of their idols,
in tbe following respects :
1. He manifests his utter abhorrence of their attachment
to their idols. Their idols are what they love above all
things : they would by no means part with them. This
wickedness is sweet unto them. Job xx. 12. If you take
them away, what have they more ? If they lose their
idols, they lose their all. — To rend away their idols from
them, would be more griewous to them, than to rend body
and soul asunder: it is like rending their heart in twain.
They love their idolatry : but God does npt approve of it,
but exceedingly hates it : he will by no means be reconciled
to it ; and therefore they hate him. God declares an in
finite hatred of every act they do, in the service of their
false gods. He declares himself to be a holy and a jealous
God ; a God who is very jealous of his own honour ; and
that greatly abhors giving that honour to another.
2. He utterly forbids their cleaving to those idols, and
all the service that they do to them. He not only shows
that he dislikes it, but he utterly forbids it ; and demands
that they should worship him ; serve him only, and give
their hearts wholly to him : without tolerating any com

petitor. He allows them to serve their idols in no degree ;
but requires them to cast them away utterly, and pay no more
worship to them, at any time. He requires a final parting
with their idols. Not only that they should refrain from
them for a while, but cast them away for ever; and never
gratify their idolatrous respect to them any more. This is
so exceeding contrary to them, and what they are so averse
to, that they are enemies to God for it. They cannot en
dure God's commands, because they forbid all that in
which their hearts are so engaged. And as they hate
God's commands, so they hate Him whose commands they
are. 3. He threatens them with everlasting damnation for
their service of their idols. He threatens them for their
past idolatry. He threatens them with his eternal wrath,
for their having departed from him, and their having chosen
to themselves other gods. He threatens them for that dis
position they have in their hearts to cleave to other gods :
he threatens the least degrees of that respect which they
have in their hearts to their idols. He manifests that he
will not tolerate any regard to them, but has fixed eternal
death, as the wages of every degree of it. And he will
not release them from their guilt; he holds them to their
obligations ; and he will accept of no atonement that they
can make. He will not forgive them for whatever they do
in religion ; whatever pains they take ; whatever tears they
shed. He will accept of no money or price that they have
to offer.
And he threatens every future act of their idolatry. He
not only forbids them ever to be guilty of the least act,
but forbids them on pain of eternal damnation. So strict
ly does God prohibit them from the service of their beloved
idols ! He threatens them with everlasting wrath for all
exercises of inordinate love of worldly profit ; for all
manifestations of inordinate regard to worldly pleasures,
or worldly honours. He threatens them with everlasting
torments for their self-exaltation. He requires them to
deny and renounce themselves, and to abase themselves at
his feet, on pain of bearing his wrath to all eternity.
The strictness of God's law is a principal cause of man's
enmity against God. If God were one that did not so
much hate sin ; if he would allow them in the gratification
of their lusts in some degree, and his threatenings were
not so awful against all criminal indulgence ; if his threat
enings were not so absolute ; if his displeasure could be
appeased by a few tears, a little reformation, or the like ;
they would not be so great enemies, nor hate him so much
as they do. But God shows himself to be an implacable
enemy to their idols, and has threatened everlasting wrath,
infinite calamity, for all that they do in the service of
their lusts ; and this makes them irreconcilable enemies
to him.
For this reason, the scribes and Pharisees were such
bitter enemies to Christ ; because he showed himself to be
such an enemy to their pride, conceit of their own wisdom,
self-righteousness, and inordinate affectation of their own
honour, which was their god. Natural men are enemies
to God, because he is so opposite to them, in that in which
they place their all. If you go to lake away that which is
very dear to a man, nothing will provoke him more. God
is infinitely opposite to that in which natural men place all
their delight, and all their happiness. He is an enemy to
that which natural men value as their greatest honour and
highest dignity ; and to which they wholly trust ; viz. their
own righteousness.
Hence natural men are greater enemies to God, than
they are to any other being. Some of their fellow-crea
tures may stand very much in their way, with regard to
some things on which they set their hearts ; but God
opposes them with respect to all their idols, and his
opposition to them is infinitely great. None of our fellow-
creatures ever oppose us in any of our interests so much
as God opposes wicked men in their idolatry. His infinite
opposition is manifested by his threatening an infinite
punishment, viz- his dreadful wrath to all eternity, misery
without end. Hence we need not wonder that natural
men are enemies to God.

134

MEN NATURALLY GOD'S ENEMILS.

SECT. IV.

The objection, that men are not conscious of this enmity,
answered.
Natural men do not generally conceive themselves to
be so bad ; they have not this notion of themselves, that
they are enemies to God. And therefore when they hear
such doctrine as this taught them, they stand ready to
make objections. Some may be ready to say, " I do not
know, I am not sensible, that I hate God, and have a
mortal enmity against him. I feel no such thing in myself,
and if I have such enmity, why do not I feel it ? If
I am a mortal enemy, why should not I know it better
than any body else ? How can others see what is in my
heart better than I myself? If I hate one of my fellow-
creatures, I can feel it inwardly working." To such an
objection I would answer,
If you do but observe yourself, and search your own
heart, unless you are strangely blinded, you may be sen
sible of those things, wherein enmity does fundamentally
consist. Particularly, you may be sensible that you have
at least had a low and contemptible estimation of God ;
and that, in your esteem, you set the trifles and vanities of
this world far above him ; so as to regard the enjoyment of
these things far before the enjoyment of God, and to value
these things better than his love. — And you may be sensible
that you despise the authority of God, and value his com
mands and his honour but very little. Or if by some means
you have blinded yourself, so as to think you do regard
them now, doubtless you can look back and see that you
have not regarded them. You ¦ may be sensible that you
have had a disrelish and aversion towards God ; an opposi
tion to thinking of him ; so that it would have been a very
uncomfortable task to have been confined to that exercise for
anytime. The vanities of the world, at the same time, have
been very pleasing to you ; and you have been all swallowed
up in them, while you have been averse to the things of
religion. If you look into your heart, it is there plain to be
seen, that there is an enmity in your will, that it is contrary
to God's will, for you have been opposing the will of God ail
your life long. — These things are plain ; it is nothing but
some great delusion that canhide them from you. These are
the foundation of all enmity : and if these things be in you,
all the rest that we have spoken of will follow of course.
2. One reason why you have not more sensibly felt the
exercises of malice against God, is that your enmity is now
exercised partly in your unbelief of God's being ; and this
prevents its appearing in other ways. Man has naturally
a principle of atheism in him ; an indisposition to realize
God's being, and a disposition to doubt of it. The being
of God does not ordinarily seem real to natural men. All
the discoveries that there are of God's being in his works,
will not overcome the principle of atheism in the heart.
And though they seem in some measure to be rationally
convinced, yet it does not appear real ; the conviction is
faint, there is no strong conviction impressed on the mind,
that there is a God : and oftentimes they are ready to
think that there is none. Now this will prevent the exer
cise of this enmity, which otherwise would be felt ; particu
larly, it may be an occasion of there not being sensible
exercises of hatred.
It may in some measure be thus illustrated : if you had
a rooted malice against another man, a principle that had
been long established there, and if you should hear that he
was dead, the sensible workings of your malice would not
be felt, as when you realized it that he was alive. But if
you should afterwards hear the news contradicted, and
perceive that your enemy was still alive ; you would feel
the same workings of hatred that you did before. And
thus your not realizing the feet, that God has a being,
may prevent those sensible workings of hatred, that other
wise you would have. If wicked men in this world were
sensible of the reality of God's being, as the wicked are
in another, they would feel more of that hatred which men
in another world do. The exercise of corruption in one
way, may, and often does, prevent it working in other
ways. As covetousness may prevent the exercise of pride,
so atheism may prevent malice ; and yet it may be no
argument of there being any less enmity in the heart ; for

it is the same enmity, working in another way. The same
enmity that in this world works by atheism, will in
another world, where there will be no room for atheism,
work by malice and blasphemy. The same mortal enmity
which, if you saw there was a God, might make you to
wish there were none, may now dispose and incline you
to think there is none. Men are very often' apt to think *
things are as they would have them to be. The same
principle disposes you to think God has no existence,
which, if you knew he had, would dispose you, if it were
possible, to dispossess him of it.
3. If you think that there is a God, yet you do not
realize it, that he is such a God as he really is. You do
not realize it, that he is so holy as he is ; that he has
such a hatred of sin as indeed he has ; that he is so just a
God as he is, who will by no means clear the guilty. But
that in the Psalms is applicable to you : " these things
hast thou done, and I kept silence : thou thoughtest that
I was altogether such an one as thyself." Psalm 1. 21. So
that your atheism appears in this, as well as in thinking
there is no God. So that your objection arises from this,
that you do not find such a sensible hatred against that
god which you have formed, to suit yourself; a god that
you like better than the true God. But this is no argu
ment that you have not bitter enmity against the true
God ; for it was your enmity against the true God, and
your not liking him, that has put you upon forming up
another in your imagination, that you like better. It is
your enmity against those attributes of God's holiness and
justice, and the like, that has put you upon conceiting
another, who is not so holy as he is, and does not hate sin
so much, and will not be so strictly just in punishing it ;
and whose wrath against sin is not so terrible'.
But if you were sensible of the vanity of your own con
ceits, and that God was not such an one as you have
imagined ; but that he is, as he is indeed, an infinitely
holy, just, sin hating and sin revenging God, who will not
tolerate nor endure the worship of idols, you would be
much more liable to feel the sensible exercises of enmity
against him, than you are now. And this experience
confirms. For we see that when men come to be under
convictions, and to be made sensible that God is not as
they have heretofore imagined; but that he is such a
jealous, sin hating God, and whose wrath against sin is so
dreadful, they are much more apt to have sensible exer
cises of enmity against him than before.
4. Your having always been taught that God is infinitely
above you, and out of your reach, has prevented your
enmity being exercised in those ways, that otherwise it
would have been. And hence your enmity has not been
exercised in revengeful thoughts ; because revenge has
never found any room here ; it has never found any
handle to take hold of: there has been no conception of
any such thing, and hence it has lain still. A serpent will
not bite, or spit poison, at that which it sees at a great
distance ; which if it saw near, would do it immediately.
Opportunity often shows what men are, whether friends
or enemies. Opportunity to do puts men in mind of
doing ; wakens up such principles as lay dormant before.
Opportunity stirs up desire to do, where there was before a
dispjxsition, that without opportunity would have lain still.
If a man has had an old grudge against another, and has
a fair opportunity to be revenged, this will revive his
malice, and waken up a desire of revenge.
If a great and sovereign prince injures a poor man, and
what he does is looked upon as very cruel, that will not
ordinarily stir up passionate revenge, because he is so
much above him, and out of his reach. Many a man has
appeared calm and meek, when he has had no power in
his hands, and has not appeared, either to himself or
others, to have any disposition to cruel acts ; yet after
wards, when he came to have opportunity by unexpected
advancement, or otherwise, has appeared like a ravenous
wolf, or devouring lion. So it was with Hazael. " And
Hazael said, Why weepeth my lord ? And he answered,
Because I know the evil that thou wilt do unto the chil
dren of Israel : their strong holds wilt thou set on fire,
and their young men wilt thou slay with the sword, and,
wilt dash their children, and rip up their women with
child. And Hazael said, But what is thy servant a dog,

Sect. IV.

NATURAL MEN UNCONSCIOUS, &c.

135

that he should do this great thing ! And Elisha answered,
the Lord hath showed me that thou shalt be king over
Syria," 2 Kings viii. 12, 13. Hazael was then a servant;
he had no power in his hands to do as he pleased ; and
so his cruel disposition had lain hid, and he did not him
self imagine that it was there : but afterwards, when he
became king of Syria, and was absolute, having none to
control him ; then it broke out and appeared, and he
did as the prophet had foretold. He committed those
very acts of cruelty, that he thought it was not in his heart
to do. It was want of opportunity that made the differ
ence. It was all in his heart before ; he was such a dog
then as to do this thing, but only had not opportunity.
And therefore when he seems surprised that the prophet
should say so of him, all the reason the prophet gives is,
" The Lord hath showed me that thou shalt be king over
Syria." Some natural men are such "dogs" as to do things, if
they had opportunity, which they do not imagine it is in
their hearts to do. You object against your having a
moral hatred against God ; that you never felt any desire
to dethrone him. But one reason has been, that it has
always been conceived so impossible by you. But if the
throne of God were within your reach, and you knew it, it
would not be safe one hour. Who knows what thoughts
would presently arise in your heart by such an opportunity,
and what disposition would be raised up in your heart.
Who would trust your heart, that there would not present
ly be such thoughts as these, though they are enough to
make one tremble to mention them ? " Now I have op
portunity to set myself at liberty — that I need not be kept
in continual slavery by the strict law of God. — Then I
may take my liberty to walk in that way I like best, and
need not be continually in such slavish fear of God's dis
pleasure. And God has not done well by me in many in
stances. He has done most unjustly by me, in holding
me bound to destruction for unbelief, and other things
which I cannot help. — He has shown mercy to others, and
not to me. I have now an opportunity to deliver myself,
and there can be no danger of my being hurt for it. There
will be nothing for us to be terrified about, and so keep
us in slavery."
Who would trust your heart, that such thoughts would
not arise ? or others much more horrid and too dreadful to
be mentioned ? And therefore I forbear. Those natural
men are foolishly insensible of what is in their own
hearts, who think there would be no danger of any
such workings of heart, if they knew they had oppor
tunity. 5. You little consider, how much your having no more
of the sensible exercises of hatred to God, is owing to a
being restrained by fear. You have always been taught
what a dreadful thing it is to hate God, and how terrible
his displeasure ; that God sees the heart and knows all
the thoughts ; and that you are in his hands, and he can
make you as miserable as he pleases, and as soon as he
pleases. And these things have restrained you : and the
fear that has risen from them, has kept you from appear
ing what you are ; it has kept down your enmity, and
made that serpent afraid to show its head, as otherwise
it would do. If a wrathful man were wholly under the
power of an enemy, he would be afraid to exercise his
hatred in outward acts, unless it were with great disguise.
And if it be supposed that such an enemy, in whose
power he was, could see his heart, and know all his
thoughts ; and apprehended that he would put him to a
terrible death, if he saw the workings of malice there, how
greatly would this restrain ! He would be afraid so much
as to believe himself, that he hated his enemy : but there
would be all manner of disguise and hypocrisy, and feign
ing even of thoughts and affections.
Thus your enmity has been kept under restraint ; and
thus it has been from your infancy. You have grown up
in it, so that it is become an habitual restraint. You dare
not so much as think you hate God. If you do exercise
hatred, you have a disguise for it, whereby you endeavour
even to hide it from your own conscience ; and so have
all along deceived yourself. Your deceit is very old and
habitual : there has been only restraint ; not mortification.

There has been an enmity against God in its full strength
It has been' only restrained, like an enemy that durst not
rise up and show himself.
6. One reason why you have not felt more sensible
hatred to God may be, because you have not had much
trial of what is in your heart. It may be God has hither
to, in a great measure, let you alone. The enmity that is
in men's hearts against God, is like a serpent, which, if it
be let alone lies still : but if any body disturbs it, will
soon hiss, and be enraged, and show its serpentine spite
ful nature.
Notwithstanding the good opinion you have of yourself,
vet a little trial would show you to be a viper, and your
heart would be set all on rage against God. One thing
that restrains you now is your hope. You hope to receive
many things from God. Your own interest is concern
ed. So that both hope and fear operate together, to re
strain your enmity from sensible exercises. But if once
hope were gone, you would soon show what you were ;
you would feel your enmity against God in a rage.
7. If you pretend that you do not feel enmity against
God, and yet act as an enemy, you may certainly conclude
that it is not because you are no enemy, but because you
do not know your own heart. Actions are the best inter
preters of the disposition : they show, better than any
thing else, what the heart is. It must be because you do
not observe your own behaviour, that you question whe
ther you are an enemy to God.
What other account can you give of your own carriage,
but only your being God's enemy ? What other account
can be given of your opposing God in your ways ; walk
ing so exceeding contrary to him, contrary to his counsels,"
contrary to his commands, and contrary to his glory ?
What other account can be given of your casting so much
contempt upon God ; your setting him so low ; your act
ing so much against his authority, and against his king
dom and interest in the world ? What other account can
be given of your so setting your will in opposition to God's
will, and that so obstinately, for so long a time, against so
many warnings as you have had ? What other account
can be given of your joining so much with Satan, in the
opposition he is making to the kingdom of God in the
world ? And that you will join with him against God,
though it be so much against your own interest, and
though you expose yourself by it to everlasting misery ?
Such like behaviour in one man towards another, would
be sufficient evidence of enmity. If he should be seen to
behave thus, and that it was his constant manner, none
would want better evidence that he was an enemy to his
neighbour. If you yourself had a servant that carried it
towards you, as you do towards God, you would not think
there was need of any greater evidence of his being your
enemy. Suppose your servant should manifest much con
tempt of you ; and disregard your commands as much as
you do the commands of God ; should go directly con
trary, and in many ways act the very reverse of your com
mands ; should seem to set himself in ways that were
contrary to your will obstinately and incorrigibly, without
any amendment from your repeated calls, warnings, and
threatenings ; and should act so cross to you day and
night, as you do to God; would he not be justly deemed
your enemy? Suppose, further, when you sought one
thing, he would seek the contrary ; when you did any
work, he would, as much as in him lay, undo and destroy
that work ; and suppose he should continually drive at
such ends, as tended to overthrow the ends you aimed at :
when you sought to bring to pass any design, he would
endeavour to overthrow your design ; and set himself as
much against your interest, as you do yourself against
God's honour. And suppose you should moreover see
him, from time to time, with those who were your de
clared mortal enemies ; making them his counsellors, and
hearkening to then' counsels, as much as you do to Satan's
temptations : should you not think you had sufficient evi
dence that he was your enemy ?  Therefore consider
seriously your own ways, and weigh your own behaviour.
" How canst thou say, I am not polluted ? — see thy way
in the valley, know what thou hast done." Jer. ii. 23.

136

MEN NATURALLY GOD'S ENEMIES.

SECT. V.
The objections, tliat they show respect to God, and experi
ence some religious affections, answered.
Natural men may be ready to object, the respect they
show to God, from time to time. This makes many to
think that they are far from being such enemies to God.
They pray to him in secret, and attend on public worship,
and take a great deal of pains to do it in a decent manner.
It seems to them that they show. God a great deal of re
spect : they use many very respectful terms in their prayer :
they are respectful in their manner of speaking, their voice,
gestures, and the like. — But to this I answer, That all this
is done in mere hypocrisy. All this seeming respect is
feigned, there is no sincerity in it : there is external respect,
but none in the heart : there is a show, and nothing else.
You only cover your enmity with a painted veil. You put
on the disguise of a friend, but in your heart you are a
mortal enemy. There is external honour, but inward con
tempt ; there is a show of friendship and regard, but in
ward hatred. You do but deceive yourself with your show
of respect ; and endeavour to deceive God ; not consider
ing that God looks not on the outward appearance, but on
the heart. — Here consider particularly,
1 . That much of that seeming respect which natural men
show to God, is owing to their education. They have
been taught from their infancy that they ought to show
great respect to God. They have been taught to use
respectful language, when speaking about God, and to
behave with solemnity, when attending on those exercises
of religion, wherein they have to do with him. From their
childhood, they have seen that this is the manner of others,
when they pray to God, to use reverential expressions, and
a reverential behaviour before him.
Those who are brought up in places where they have,
commonly from their infancy, heard men take the name of
God in vain, and swear and. curse, and blaspheme ; they
learn to do the same ; and it becomes habitual to them.
And it is the same way, and no other, that you have
learned to behave respectfully towards God : not that you
have any more respect to God than they ; but they have
been brought up one way, and you another. In some
parts of the world, men are brought up in the worship of
idols of silver, and gold, and wood, and stone, made in the
shape of men and beast. " They say of them, Let the men
that sacrifice, kiss the calf." Hos. xiii. 2. In some parts
of the world, they are brought up to worship serpents, and
are taught from their infancy to show great respect to
them. And in some places, they are brought up m wor
shipping the devil, who appears to them in a bodily shape ;
and to behave with a show of great reverence and honour
towards him. And what respect you show to God has no
better foundation ; it comes the same way, and is worth
no more.
2. That show of respect which you make is forced.
You come to God, and make a great show of respect to
him, and use very respectful terms, with a reverential tone
and manner of speaking ; and your countenance is grave
and solemn : you put on an humble aspect ; and use
humble, respectful postures, out of fear. You are afraid
that God will execute his wrath upon you, and so you
feign a great deal of respect, that he may not be angry
with you. " Through the greatness of thy power shall
thine enemies submit themselves unto thee. Psal. lxvi.
3. In the original it is, shall thine enemies lie to thee. It
is rendered therefore in the margin, shall yield feigned
obedience to thee. All that you do in religion is forced and
feigned. Through the greatness of God's power, youyield
feigned obedience. You are in God's power, and he is
able to destroy you ; and so you feign a great deal of re
spect to him, that he might not destroy you. As one
might do towards an enemy that had taken him captive,
though he at the same time would gladly make his escape,
if he could, by taking away the life of him who had taken
him captive.
3. It is not real respect that moves you to behave so
towards God : you do it because you hope you shall get
by it. It is respect to yourself, and not respect to God,
that moves you. You hope to move God by it to bestow

the rewards of his children. You are like the Jews who
followed Christ, and called him Rabbi, and would make
him a king. Not that they honoured him so much in their
hearts, as to think him worthy of the honour of a king;
or that they had the respect of sincere subjects ; but they
did it for the sake of the loaves. " Jesus perceived that
they would come and make him a king. And when they
had found him on the other side of the sea, they said unto
him, Rabbi, how camest thou hither ? Jesus answered and
said unto them, Verily, verily I say unto you, Ye seek me,
not because you saw the miracles, but because ye did eat
of the loaves, and were filled." John vi. 15, 25, 26.
These things do not argue but that you are implacable
enemies to God. If you examine your prayers and other
duties, your own consciences will tell you, that the seeming
respect which you have shown to God in them, has been
only in hypocrisy. Oftentimes you have set forth in your
prayers, that God was a great, a glorious, and an infinitely
holy God, as if you greatly honoured him on the account
of these attributes ; and, at the same time, you had no
sense in your heart of the greatness and glory of God, or
of any excellency in his holiness. Your own consciences
will tell you, that you have' often pretended to be thank- -
ful ; you have told God, that you thanked him you was
alive, and thanked him for various mercies, when you
have not found the least jot of thankfulness in your heart.
And so you have told God of your own unworthiness, and
set forth what a vile creature you was ; when you have
had no humble sense of your own unworthiness.
If these forementioned restraints were thrown off, you
would soon throw off all your show of respect. Take away
fear, and a regard to your own interest, and there would
soon be an end to all those appearances of love, honour,
and reverence, which now you make. All these things are
not at all inconsistent with the most implacable enmity.
The devil himself made a show of respect to Christ, when
he was afraid that he was going to torment him ; and
when he hoped to persuade Christ to spare him longer.
" When he saw Jesus, he cried out, and fell down before
him, and with a loud voice said, What have I to do with
thee, Jesus, thou Son of God most high ? I beseech thee,
torment me not." Luke viii. 28.
Some may perhaps object against this doctrine of their
being God's enemies, the religious affections they have
sometimes experienced. They may be ready to say, That
when they have come before God in prayer, they have not
only used respectful terms and gestures, but they have
prayed with affection ; their prayers have been attended
with tears, which they are ready to think showed some
thing in the heart.: — But to this it is answered, that these
affections have risen from other causes, and not from any
true respect to God.
1. They have risen from self-love, and not love to God.
If you have wept before God, from the consideration of
your own pitiful case ; that has been because you loved
yourself, and not because you had any respect to God.
If your tears have been from sorrow for your sins ; you
have mourned for your sins, because you have sinned
against yourself, and not because you have sinned against
God. " When ye fasted and mourned, did ye at all fast
unto me, even unto me ?" Zech. vii. 5.
2. Pride, and a good thought of themselves, very com
monly has a great hand in the affections of natural men.
They have a good opinion of what they are doing when
they are praying ; and the reflection on that affects them :
they are affected with their own goodness. Men's self-
righteousness often occasions tears. A high opinion of
themselves before God, and an imagination of their being
persons of great account with him, has affected them in
then- transactions with God. There is commonly abun
dance of pride in the midst of tears ; and often pride is in
a great measure the source of them. And then they are so
far from being an argument that you are not an enemy to
God, that on the contrary, they are an argument, that you
are. In your very tears, you are, in a vain conceit of your
self, exalting yourself against God.
3. The affections of natural men often arise from wrong
notions they have of God. They conceive of God after
the manner they do of men, as though he were a being
liable to be wrought upon in his affections. They conceive

Sect. VI.

RESTRAINING GRACE A PRIVILEGE.

137

of him as one whose heart could be drawn, whose affec
tions can be overcome, by what he sees in them. They
conceive of him as being taken with them, and their per
formances ; and this works on their affections ; and thus
one tear draws another, and their affections increase by re
flection. And oftentimes they conceive of God as one that
loves them, and is a friend to them : and such a mistake
may work much on their affections. But such affections
that arise towards God, as they conceit him to be, is no
argument that they have not the same implacable hatred
towards God, considered as he really is. There is no con
cluding that men are not enemies, because they are affect
ed and shed tears in their prayers, and the like. Saul was
very much affected when David expostulated with him
about pursuing after him, and seeking to kill him. David's
words wrought exceedingly upon Saul's affections. " And
it came to pass when David had made an end of speaking
these words unto Saul, that Saul said, Is this thy voice,
my son David ? and Saul lift up his voice and wept."
1 Sam. xxiv. 16. chap. xxvi. 1, &c. He was so affected
that he wept aloud, and called David- his son, though he
was but just before seeking his life. But this affection of
Saul was no argument that he did not still continue in his
enmity against David. He was David's mortal enemy
before, and sought his life ; and so he did afterwards. It
was but a pang : his enmity was not mortified or done
away. The next news we hear of Saul is, that he was
pursuing David, and seeking his life again.

SECT. VI.
Restraining grace a great privilege.
If natural men are God's enemies ; then hence we may
learn, how much we are indebted to God for his restrain
ing grace. If all natural men are God's enemies, what
would they not do, if they were not restrained ! For what
has one that is an enemy in his disposition, to restrain him
from acting against him to whom he is an enemy ? Hatred
will not restrain a man from acting any thing against him
that is hated. Nothing is too bad for hatred, if it be mere
hatred and no love. Hatred shows no kindness either in
doing, or forbearing ; it will never make a man forbear to
act against God ; for the very nature of hatred is to seek
evil. But wicked men, as has been shown, are mere
enemies to God ; they have hatred, without any love at
all. And hence natural men have nothing within them,
in their own nature, to restrain them from any thing that
is bad ; and therefore their restraint must not be owing to
nature, but to restraining grace. And therefore whatever
wickedness we have been kept from, it is not because we
have not been bad enough to commit it ; but it is God has
restrained us, and kept us back from sin. There can be
no worse principle, than a principle of hatred to God.
And there can be no principle lhat will go further in
wickedness than this, if it be neither mortified nor restrain
ed. But it is not mortified in natural men ; and therefore
all that keeps them from any degree of wickedness, is
restrained. If we have seen others do things that we
never did ; and if they have done worse than we, this is
owing to restraining grace. If we have not done as bad
as Pharaoh, it is owing to divine restraints. If we have
not done as bad as Judas, or as the scribes and Pharisees,
or as bad as Herod, or Simon Magus, it is because God
has restrained our corruption. If we have ever heard or
read of any that have done worse than we ; if we have
not gone the length in sinning, that the most wicked
pirates or carnal persecutors have gone, this is owing to
restraining grace. For we are all naturally the enemies of
God as much as they. If we have not committed the un
pardonable sin, it is owing to restraining grace. There is
no worse principle in exercise in that sin, than enmity
against God. Ihere is the entire fountain, and all the
foundation of the sin against the Holy Ghost, in that
enmity against God that naturally reigns in us.
- It is not we that restrain ourselves from the commission
of the greatest imaginable wickedness'; for enmity against
God reigns in us and over us ; we are under its power and
dominion, and are sold under it. We do not restrain that
which reigns over us. A slave, as long as he continues a

mere slave, cannot control his master. " He that com
mitteth sin, is the servant of sin." John viii. 34. So that
the restraint of this our cruel tyrant, is owing to God, and
not to us. What does a poor, impotent subject do to
restrain the absolute Lord, that has him wholly under his
power ? How much will it appear that the world is in
debted to the restraining grace of God, if we consider that
the world is full of enemies to God. The world is full of
inhabitants ; and almost all are God's enemies, his impla
cable and mortal enemies. What therefore would they
not do, what work would they not make, if God did not
restrain them ?
God's work in the restraint that he exercises over a
wicked world, is a glorious work. God's holding the reins
upon the corruptions of a wicked world, and setting
bounds to their wickedness, is a more glorious work, than
his ruling the raging of the sea, and setting bounds to its
proud waves, and saying, Hitherto shalt thou come, and
no further. In hell, God lets the wickedness of wicked
spirits have the reins, to rage without restraint; and it
would be in a gi'eat measure upon earth as it is in hell,
did not God restrain the wickedness of the world. But in
order to the better understanding how it is owing to the re
straining grace of God, that we are kept and withheld from
the highest acts of sin, I would here observe several things.^
1. Whenever men are withheld from sinning by the
common influence of God's Spirit, they are withheld by
restraining grace. If sinners are awakened, and are made
sensible of the great guilt that sin brings, and that it ex
poses to a dreadful punishment ; under such circumstances
they dare not allow themselves in wilful sin : God restrains
them by the convictions of his Spirit ; and therein their
being kept from sin, is owing to restraining grace. And
unawakened sinners that live under the gospel, who are
in a great measure secure, commonly have some degrees
of the influence of God's Spirit, with his ordinances in
fluencing natural conscience. And though they be not
sufficient thoroughly to rouse them out of security, or
make them reform ; yet they keep them from going such
lengths in sin, as otherwise they might do. And this is
restraining grace. They are indeed very stupid and sottish :
yet they would be a great deal more so, if God should let
them wholly alone.
2. All the restraints that men are under from the word
and ordinances, is from grace. The word and ordinances
of God might have some degree of influence on men's
natural principles of self-love, to restrain them from sin,
without any degree ofthe influence of God's Spirit: but
this would be the restraining grace of God ; for God's
goodness and mercy to a sinful world appears in his giving
his word to be a restraint on the wickedness ofthe world.
When men are restrained by fear of those punishments
that the word of God threatens ; or by the warnings, the
offers, and promises of it ; when the word of God works
upon hope, or fear, or natural conscience, to restrain men
from sin, this is the restraining grace of God, and is owing
to his mercy. It is an instance of God's mercy that he has
revealed hell, to restrain men's wickedness ; and that he
has revealed a way of salvation, and a possibility of eternal
life. This which has great influence on men to keep them
from sin, is the restraining grace of God.
3. When men are restrained from sin, by the light of
nature, this also is of grace. If men are destitute ofthe light
of God's word, yet the light of natural conscience teaches
that sin brings guilt, and exposes to punishment. The
light of nature teaches that there is a God who governs the
world, and will reward the good and punish the evil. God
is the author of the light of nature, as well as the light of
revelation. He in mercy to mankind makes known many
things by natural light to work upon men's fear and self-
love, in order to restrain their corruptions.
4. When God restrains men's corruptions by his provi
dence, this is from grace. And that whether it be his
general providence in ordering the slate of mankind ; or
his providential disposals towards them in particular.
(1.) God greatly restrains the corruption of the world,
by ordering the state of mankind. He hath set them here
in a mortal state, and in a state of probation for eternity ;
and that is a great restraint to corruption. God hath so
ordered the state of mankind, that ordinarily many kinds

138

MEN NATURALLY GOD'S ENEMIES.

of sin and wickedness are disgraceful, and what tend to
the hurt of a man's character and reputation amongst his
fellow-men ; and that is a great restraint. He hath so
disposed the world, that many kinds of wickedness are
many ways very contrary to men's temporal interest; and
mankind are led to prohibit many kinds of wickedness by
human laws ; and that is a great restraint. God hath set
up a church in the world, made up of those who, if they
are answerable to their profession, have the fear and love
of God in their hearts ; and they by holding forth revealed
light, by keeping up the ordinances of God, and by warning
others, are a great restraint to the wickedness of the world.
In all these things, the restraining grace of God appears.
— It is God's mercy to mankind, that he has so ordered their
state, that they should have so many things, by fear and a
regard to their own interest, to restrain their corruptions.
It is God's mercy to the world, that the state of mankind
here differs from the state of the damned in hell ; where
men will have none of these things to restrain them. The
wisdom of God, as well as the attributes of his grace,
greatly appear in thus disposing things for the restraining
of the wickedness of men .
(2.) God greatly restrains the corruptions of men by his
providence towards particular persons ; by placing men
in such circumstances as to lay them under restraints.
And to this it is often owing that some natural men never
go such lengths in sinning, or are never guilty of such
atrocious wickedness, as some others, that Providence has
placed them in different circumstances. If it were not for
this, many thousands of natural men, who now live sober
and orderly lives, would do as Pharaoh did. The reason
why they do not, is, that Providence has placed them in
different circumstances. If they were in the same circum
stances as Pharaoh was in, they would do as he did. And
so, if in the same circumstances as Manassah, as Judas,
or Nero. But Providence restrains their corruptions, by
putting them in such circumstances, as not to open such a
door or outlet for their corruption, as he did to them. So
some do not perpetrate such horrid things, they do not live
such horribly vicious lives, as some others, because Provi
dence has restrained them, by ordering that they should
have a better education than others. Providence has or
dered that they should be the children of pious parents, it
may be, or should live where they should enjoy many
means of grace ; and so Providence has laid them under
restraints. Now this is restraining grace ; or the attribute
of God's grace exercised in thus restraining persons.
And oftentimes God restrains men's corruptions by par
ticular events of providence. By particular afflictions
they are brought under, or by particular occurrences,
whereby God does, as it were, block up men's way in their
course of sin, or in some wickedness that they had
devised, and that otherwise they would perpetrate. Or
something- happens unexpected to hold men back from
that which they were about to commit. Thus God re
strained David by his providence from shedding bood, as
he intended to do. " Now therefore, my lord, as the Lord
liveth, and as thy soul liveth, seeing the Lord hath with-
holden thee from coming to shed blood, and from aveng
ing thyself with thine own hand,  " 1 Sam. xxv. 26.
God withheld him from it no otherwise, than by ordering
it so in his providence that Abigail should come, and by
her wisdom should cool, pacify, and persuade him to alter
his purpose. See ver. 32, 33, 34.
5. Godly persons are greatly indebted to restraining
grace, in keeping them from dreadful acts of sin. So it
was in that instance of David, just mentioned. Even godly
persons, when God has left, and has not restrained them,
nave fallen into dreadful acts of sin. So did David, in
the case of Uriah ; and Lot, and Peter. And when other
godly persons are kept from falling into such sins, or much
worse sins than these, it is owing to the restraining grace
of God. Merely having a principle of grace in their
hearts, or merely their being godly persons, without God's
presence to restrain them, will not keep them from great
acts of sin. That the godly do not fall into the most horrid
sins that can be conceived of, is owing not so much to any
inconsistence between their falling into such sins, and
the having a principle of grace in the heart, as it is owing
to the covenant mercy of God, whereby he has promised

never to leave nor forsake his people ; and that he will
not suffer them to be tempted above what they are able;
but with the temptation will make a way for them to escape.
If saving grace restrains men from great acts of sin, that
is owing to God who gives such exercises of grace at that
time when the temptation comes, that they are restrained.
Let not the godly therefore be insensible of their obliga
tions to the restraining grace of God. Though they can
not be said to be enemies to God, because a principle of
enmity does not reign ; yet they have the very same prin
ciple and seed of enmity in them, though it be mortified.
Though it be not in reigning power, yet it has great
strength; and is too strong for them, without God's al
mighty power to help them against it. Though they be
not enemies to God, because they have a principle of
love ; yet their old man, the body of sin and death that
yet remains in them, is a mortal enemy to God. Corrup
tion in the godly, is not better than it is in the wicked ;
but is of as bad a nature every whit, as that which is in a
mortal enemy to God. And though it be not in reigning
power ; yet it would dreadfully rage, were it not for God's
restraining grace.
God gives his restraining grace to both natural and godly
men ; but there is this difference ; he gives his restraining
grace to his children in the way of covenant mercy : it
is part of the mercy promised in his covenant. God is
faithful, and will not leave them to sin in like manner as
wicked men do ; otherwise they would do every whit as
bad. — Let not therefore the godly attribute it to themselves,
or merely to their own goodness, that they are not guilty of
such horrid crimes as they hear of in others ; let them con
sider it as not owing to them, but to God's restraints. —
Thus all, both godly and ungodly, may learn from this
doctrine, their great obligations to the restraining grace of
God. SECT. VII.
Why natural men are not willing to come to Christ, and
their dreadful condition.
Hence we may learn the reason why natural men will
not come to Christ : they do not come because they will
not come. " Ye will not come to me, thai ye might have
life." John v. 40. When we say that natural men are not
willing to come to Christ, it is not meant that they are not
willing to be delivered from hell ; for without doubt, no
natural man is willing to go to hell. Nor is it meant, that
they are not willing that Christ should keep them from go
ing to hell. Without doubt, natural men under awaken
ings often greatly desire this. But this does not argue that
they are willing to come to Christ : for, notwithstanding
their desire to be delivered from hell, their hearts do not
close with Christ, but are averse to him. They see
nothing in Christ wherefore they should desire him ; no
beauty nor comeliness to draw their hearts to him. And
they are not willing to take Christ as he is ; they would
fain divide him. There are some things in him that they
like, and others that they greatly dislike; but consider
him as he is, and as he is offeredto ,them in the gospel,
and they are not willing to accept of Christ ; for in doing
so, they must of necessity part with all their sins ; they
must sell the world, and part with their own righteousness.
But they had rather, for the present, run the venture of go
ing to hell, than do that.
When men are truly willing to come to Christ, they are ¦
freely willing. It is not what they are forced and driven to
by threatenings ; but they are willing to come, and choose
to come without being driven. But natural men have no
such free willingness ; but on the contrary have an aversion.
And the ground of it is that which we have heard, viz.
That they are enemies to God. Their having such a reign
ing enmity against God, makes them obstinately refuse to
come to Christ. If a man is an enemy to God, he will
necessarily be an enemy to Christ too p.for Christ is the
Son of God ; he is infinitely near to God, yea, has the na
ture of God, as well as the nature of man. He is a Saviour
appointed of God ; he anointed him, and sent him into the
world. And in performing the work of redemption, he
wrought the works of God ; always did those things that
pleased him ; and all that he does as a Saviour, is to his

Sect. VII.

UNWILLINGNESS TO COME TO CHRIST.

139

glory. And one great thing he aimed at in redemption,
was to deliver them from their idols, and bring them to
God. The case being so, and sinners being enemies lo
God, they will necessarily be opposite" to coming to Christ;
for Christ is of God, and as a Saviour seeks them to bring
them to God only : but natural men are not of God, but
^are averse to him.
Hence we see, how dreadful is the condition of natural
men. Their state is a. state of enmity with God. If we
fionsiderwhat God is, and what men are, it will be easy for
us to conclude that such men as are God's enemies, must
De miserable. Consider, ye that are enemies to God, how
great he is. He is the eternal God who fills heaven and
earth, and whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain.
He is the God that made you ; in whose hand your breath
is, and whose are all your ways ; the God in whom you
live, and move, and have your being ; who has your soul
and body in his hands every moment.
You would look on yourself as in very unhappy circum-
. stances, if your neighbours were all your enemies, and none
of your fellow-creatures were your friends. If every body
were set against you, and all despised and hated you, you
would be ready to think, you had better be out of the
- world than in it. But if it be such a calamity to have en
mity maintained between you and your fellow-creatures,
what is it, when you and the almighty God are enemies ?
What avails either the friendship or enmity of your neigh
bours, poor worms ofthe dust, in comparison of the friend
ship or enmity of the great God of. heaven and earth ? —
Consider, 1. If you continue in your enmity a little longer, there
will be a mutual enmity between God and you to all eter
nity. God will appear to be your dreadful and irrecon
cilable enemy. If you should die an enemy to God, there
will be no 'such thing as any reconciliation after death.
God will then appear to you in hatred, without any love,
any pity, and any mercy at all. As you hate God, he will
hale you. And that will be verified of you : " My soul
loathed them, and their soul abhorred me." Zech. xi. 8.
And then God will be your enemy for ever. If you be
not reconciled so as to become his friend in this life, God
never will become your friend after death. If you con
tinue an enemy to God till death, God will continue an
enemy to you to all eternity. You will have no mediator
offered you ; there will be no day's-man betwixt you. So
that it becomes you to consider what it will be to have
God your enemy to all eternity, without any possibility of
being reconciled.
Consider, What will it be to have this enmity to be mu
tual, and maintained for ever on both sides ? For as God
will for ever continue an enemy to you, so you will for
ever continue an enemy to God. If you continue God's
enemy until death, you will always be his enemy. And
after death your enmity will have no restraint, but it will
break out and rage without control. When you come to
be a fire-brand of hell, you will be so in two respects, viz.
As you will be full of the fire of God's wrath ; and as you
will be all on a blaze with spite and malice towards God.
You will be as full of the fire of malice, as you will with
the fire of divine vengeance, and both will make you full of
torment. Then you will appear as you are, a viper indeed.
You are now under great disguise ; a wolf in sheep's cloth
ing : but then your mask will be pulled off; you shall
Joose your garments, and walk naked. Rev. xvi. 15.
Then will you vent your rage and malice in fearful blas
phemies. That same tongue, to cool which you will wish
for a drop of water, will be eternally employed in cursing
and blaspheming God and Christ. And that not from any
new corruption being put into your heart ; but only from
God's withdrawing his hand from restraining your old cor
ruption. And what a miserable way will this be of spend
ing your eternity!
2. Consider, What will be the consequence of a mutual
enmity between God and you, if it be continued? Though
hitherto you have met with no very great changes, yet they
will come. After a little while, dying time will come ;
and then what will be the consequence of this enmity ?
God, whose enemy you are, has the frame of your body in
his hands. Your times are in his hand ; and he it is that
appoints your bounds. And when he sends death to arrest

you, to change your countenance, to dissolve your frame,
and to take you away from all your earthly friends, and
from all that is dear and pleasant to you in the world ;
what will be the issue ? Will not you then stand in need
of God's help ? Would not he be the best friend in such
a case, worth more than ten thousand earthly friends ? If
God be your enemy, then to whom will you betake your
self for a friend ? When you launch forth into the bound
less gulf of eternity, then you will need some friend to take
care of you, but if God be your enemy, where will you be
take yourself? Your soul must go naked into another
world, in eternal separation from all worldly things ; and
your soul will not be in its own power, to defend or dis
pose of itself. Will you not then need to have God for a
friend, into whose hands you may commend your spirit?
But how dreadful will it be, to have God your enemy !
The time is coming when the frame of this world shall
be dissolved. Christ shall descend in the clouds of heaven,
in the glory of his Father ; and you, with all the rest of
mankind, must stand before his judgment-seat. Then
what will be the consequence of this mutual enmity be
tween God and you 7 . If God be your enemy, who will
stand your friend ? Now, it may be, it does not appear to
be very terrible to you to have God for your enemy ; but
when such changes as these are brought to pass, it will
greatly alter the appearance of things. Then God's favour
will appear to you of infinite worth. They, and they only,
will then appear happy, who have the love of God : and
then you will know that God's enemies are miserable.
— But under this head, consider more particularly several
things. (1.) What God can do to his enemies. Or rather, what
can he not do ? How miserable can he who is almighty
make his enemies ! Consider, you that are enemies to God,
whether or no you shall be able to make your part good
with him. " Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy ? Are
we stronger than he?" 1 Cor. x. 22. Have you such a
conceit of your own strength, as that you think to try it out
with God ? Do you intend to run the risk of an en
counter with him ? Do you imagine that your hands can
be strong, or your heart can endure ? Do you think you
shall be well able to defend yourself, or to escape out of
his hand ? Do you think that you shall be able to up
hold your spirits, when God acts as an enemy towards
you? If so, then gird up your loins, and see what the
event will be. Therefore thus will I do unto thee — " and
because I will do this unto thee, prepare to meet thy God."
— Amos iv. 12. Is it not in vain to set the briers and
thorns in battle array against devouring flames ; which
though they seemed to be armed with natural weapons, yet
the fire will pass through them, and burn them together?
See Isa. xxvii. 4.
And if you endeavour to support yourself under God's
wrath, cannot God lay you under such misery, as to cause
your spirit quite to fail ; so that you shall find no strength
to resist him, or to uphold yourself? Why should a worm
think of supporting himself against an omnipotent adver
sary ? Consider, God has made your soul ; and he can fill
it with misery : he made your body, and can bring what
torments he will upon it. God who made you, has given
you a capacity to bear torment ; and he has that capacity
in his hands. How dreadful must it be to fall into the
hands of such an enemy ! Surely, " it is a fearful thing to
fell into the hands of the living God." Heb. x. 31.
(2.) If God be your enemy, you may rationally conclude
that he will act as such in his dealings with you. We
have already observed that you have enmity without any
love or true respect. So, if you continue to be so, God
will appear to be your mere enemy ; and will be so for
ever, without being reconciled. But if it be so, he will
doubtless act as such. If he eternally hates you, he will
act in his dealings with you, as one that hates you without
any love or pity. The proper tendency and aim of hatred
is the misery of the object hated ; so that you may expect
God will make you miserable, and that you will not be
spared. — Now, God does not act as your mere enemy : if
he corrects you, it is in measure. He now exercises abun
dance of mercy to you. He threatens you now ; but it is
in a way of warning, and so in a merciful way. He now
calls, invites, and strives with you, and waits to be gracious

110

MEN NATURALLY GOD'S ENEMIES.

to you. But hereafter there will be an end to all these
things : in another world God will cease to show you
mercy. (3.) If you will continue God's enemy, you may ration
ally conclude that God will deal with you so as to make
it appear how dreadful it is to have God for an enemy.
It is very dreadful to have a mighty prince for an enemy.
" The wrath of a king is as the roaring of a lion." Prov.
xix. 12. But if the wrath of a man, a fellow-worm, be so
terrible, what is the wrath of God ! And God will doubt
less show it to be immensely more dreadful. If you will
be an enemy, God will act so as to glorify those attributes
which he exercises as an enemy ; which are his majesty,
his power, and justice. His great majesty, his awfui
justice, and mighty power, shall be showed upon you.
" What if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his
power known, endured with much long-suffering the
vessels of wrath fitted to destruction." Rom. ix. 22.
(4.) Consider, What God has said he will do to his
enemies. He has declared that they shall not escape ; but
that he will surely punish them. " Thine hand shall find
out all thine enemies, thy right hand shall find out all those
that hate thee." Ps. xxi. 8. " And repayeth them that
hate him to their face, to destroy them : he will not be slack
to him that hateth him, he will repay him to his face."
Deut. vii. 10. " The Lord shall wound the head of his
enemies, and the hairy scalp of such an one as goeth on
still in his trespasses. Ps. lxviii. 21.
Yea, God hath sworn that he will be avenged on them ;
and that in a most awful and dreadful manner. " For I
lift up my hand to heaven, and say, I live for ever. If I
whet my glittering sword, and mine hand take hold on
judgment ; I will render vengeance to mine enemies, and
I will reward them that hate me. I will make mine arrows
drunk with blood, (and my sword shall devour flesh,) and
that with the blood of the slain — from the beginning of
revenges on the enemy." Deut. xxxii. 40, 41, 42. The
terribleness of the threatened destruction is here variously
set forth. God " whets his glittering sword," as one that
prepares himself to do some great execution. " His hands
take hold on judgment," to signify that he will surely
reward them as they deserve. " He will render vengeance
to his enemies, and reward them that hate him." i. e. He
will render their full reward. " I will make mine arrows
drunk with blood." This signifies the greatness of the
destruction. It shall not be a little of their blood that
shall satisfy ; but his arrows shall be glutted with their
blood. " And his sword shall devour flesh." That is, it
shall make dreadful waste of it. This is the terrible
manner in which God will one day rise up and execute
vengeance on his enemies I
Again, the completeness of their destruction is repre
sented in the following words : " The wicked shall perish,
the enemies of the Lord shall be as the fat of 'lambs, they
shall consume : into smoke shall they consume away." Ps.
xxxvii. 20. The fet of lambs, when it is burnt in the fire,
burns all up ; there is not so much as a cinder left ; it all
consumes into smoke. This represents the perfect destruc
tion of God's enemies in his wrath. So God hath pro
mised Christ ; that he would make his enemies his foot
stool. Ps. ex. l.i.e. He would pour the greatest contempt
upon them, and as it were tread them under foot. Con
sider, that all these things will be executed on you, if you
continue God's enemies.

SECT. VIII.
God may justly withhold mercy.
If natural men are God's enemies, hence we may learn,
how justly God may refuse to show you mercy. For is
God obliged to show mercy to his enemies ? Is God bound
to set his love on them that have no love to him ; but hate
him with perfect hatred ? Is he bound to come and dwell
with them that have an aversion to him, and choose to
keep at a distance from him, and fly from him as one that
is hateful to them ? Even should you desire the salvation
of your soul, is God bound to comply with your desires,
when you always resist and oppose his will ? Is God bound
to put honour upon you, and to advance you to such

dignity as to be a child of the King of kings, and the heir
of glory, while at the same time you set him too low to
have even the lowest place in your heart ?
This doctrine affords a strong argument for the absolutrs
sovereignty of God, with respect to the salvation of sinners.
If God is pleased to show mercy to his haters, it is cer
tainly fit that he should do it in a sovereign way, without
acting as any way obliged. God will show mercy to his
mortal enemies ; but then he will not be bound, he will
have his liberty to choose the objects of his mercy; to
show mercy to what enemy he pleases, and to punish and
destroy which of his haters he pleases. And certainly this
is a fit and reasonable thing. It is fit that God should
distribute saving blessings in this way, and in no other,
viz. in a sovereign and arbitrary way. And that ever any
body thought of or devised any other way for God to show
mercy, than to have mercy on whom he will have mercy,
must arise from ignorance of their own hearts, whereby
they were insensible what enemies they naturally are to
God. But consider here the following things :
1. How causelessly you are enemies to God.* You have
no manner of reason for it, either from what God is, or
from what he has done. You have no reason for this from
what he is. For he is an infinitely lovely and glorious
Being; the fountain of all excellency, all that is amiable
and lovely in the universe, is originally and eminently in
him. Nothing can possibly be conceived of that could be
lovely in God, that is not in him, and that in the greatest
possible degree.
And vou have no reason for this, from what God has
done, for he has been a good and bountiful God to you.
He has exercised abundance of kindness to you; has
carried you from the womb; preserved your life, taken care
of you, and provided for you, all your life long. He has
exercised great patience and long-suffering towards you.
If it had not been for the kindness of God to you, what
would have become of you ? What would have become of
your body ? And what, before this time, would have be
come of your soul ? And you are now, every day and
hour, maintained by the goodness and bounty of God.
Every new breath you draw, is a new gift of his to you:
How causelessly then are you such dreadful enemies to
God ! And how justly might he for it eternally deprive
you of all mercy, seeing you do thus requite God for his
mercy and kindness to you !
2. Consider, how you would resent it, if others were such
enemies to you, as you are to God. If they had their
hearts so full of enmity to you ; if they treated you with
such contempt, and opposed you, as you do God ; how
would you resent it ! Do you not find that you are apt
greatly to resent it, when any oppose you, and show an ill
spirit towards you ? And though you excuse your own
enmity against God from your corrupt nature that you
brought into the world with you, which you could not
help ; yet you do not excuse others for being enemies to
you from their corrupt nature that they brought into the
world, which they could not help ; but are ready bitterly
to resent it notwithstanding.
Consider therefore, if you, a poor, unworthy, unlovely
creature, do so resent it, when you are hated, how may
God justly resent it when you are enemies to him, an
infinitely glorious Being ; and a Being from whom you
have received so much kindness !
3. How unreasonable is it for you to imagine that you
can oblige God to have respect to you by any thing that
you can do, continuing still to be his enemy. If you
think you have prayed, and read, and done something con
siderable for God ; yet who cares for the seeming kindness
of an enemy ? What value would you yourself set upon
a man making a show of friendship, when you knew at
tbe same time, that he was inwardly your mortal enemy ?
Would you look upon yourself obliged for such respect
and kindness? Would you not rather abhor it? Would
you count such respect to be valued, as Joab's towards
Amasa, who took him by the beard, and kissed him, and
said, Art thou in health, my brother? And smote him at
the same time under the fifth rib, and killed him ! What
if you do pray to God ? Is he obliged to hear the pravers
of an enemy ? What if you have taken a great deal of
pains, is God obliged to give heaven for the prayers of an

Sect. IX.

PRACTICAL IMPROVEMENT.

Ill

enemy ? He may justly abhor your prayers, and all that
you do in religion, as the flattery of a mortal enemy.

SECT. IX.
Practical Improvement.
Hence we may learn,
1. How wonderful is the love that is manifested in
giving Christ to die for us. For this is love to enemies.
"While we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by
the death of his Son." How wonderful was the love of
God the Father, in giving such a gift to those who not only
could not be profitable to him, but were his enemies, and
to so great a degree ! They had great enmity against him ;
yet so did he love them, that he gave his own Son to lay
clown his life, in order to save their lives. Though they
had enmity that sought to pull God down from his throne ;
yet he so loved them, that he sent down Christ from
heaven, from his throne there, to be in the form of a
servant ; and instead of a throne of glory, gave him to be
nailed to the cross, and to be laid in the grave, that so we
might be brought to a throne of glorv.
How wonderful was the love of Christ, in thus exer
cising dying love towards his enemies ! He loved those
that hated him, with hatred that sought to take away his
life, so as voluntarily to lay down his life, that they might
have life through him. " Herein is love; not that we loved
him, but that he loved us, and laid down his life for us."

2. If we are all naturally God's enemies, hence we may
learn what a spirit it becomes us as Christians to possess
towards our enemies. Though we are enemies to God,
yet we hope that God has loved us, that Christ has died
for us, that God has forgiven or will forgive us ; and will
do us good, and bestow infinite mercies and blessings
upon us, so as to make us happy for ever. All this mercy
we hope has been, or will be, exercised towards us.
Certainly then, it will not become us to be bitter in our
spirits against those that are enemies to us, and have in
jured and ill treated us ; and though they have yet an ill
spirit towards us. Seeing we depend so much on God's
forgiving us, though enemies, we should exercise a spirit
of forgiveness towards our enemies. And therefore our
Saviour inserted it in that prayer, which he dictated as a
general directory to all ; " Forgive us our debts, as we
forgive our debtors," to enforce the duty upon us, and to
show us how reasonable it is. And we ought to love
them even while enemies ; for so we hope God hath done
to us. We should be the children of our Father, who is
kind to the unthankful and evil. Luke vi. 35.
If we refuse thus to do, and are of another spirit, we
may justly expect that God will deny us his mercy, as he
has threatened ! " If ye forgive men their trespasses, your
heavenly Father will also forgive you : but if ye forgive
not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive
your trespasses." Matt. vi. 14, 15. The same we have in
the parable of the man, who owed his lord ten thousand
talents. Matt, xviii. 23—35.

WISDOM OF GOD,

DISPLAYED IN THE WAY OF SALVATION.

Ephesians iii. 10.
To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers
in heavenly places, might be known by the church the
manifold wisdom qf God.
INTRODUCTION.
The apostle is speaking in the context of the glorious
doctrine of the redemption of sinners by Jesus Christ ;
and how it was in a great measure kept hid in the past
ages of the world. It was a mystery that before they did
not understand, but now it was in a glorious manner
brought to light. (Ver. 3 — 5.) — "By revelation he made
known unto me the mystery, (as I wrote afore in few
words ; whereby when ye read ye may understand my
knowledge in the mystery of Christ,) which in other ages
was not made known unto the sons of men, as it is now
revealed unto his holy apostles and prophets, by the
Spirit." And (ver. 8, 9.) " Unto me who am less than the
least of all saints is this grace given, that 1 should preach
among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ ; and
to make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery,
which, from the beginning of the world, hath been hid in
God, who created all things by Jesus Christ."
And the apostle in the text informs us, that what Christ
had accomplished towards his church, in the work of re
demption, had not only in a great measure unveiled the
mystery to the church in this world ; but God had more
clearly and fully opened it to the understanding even of
the angels themselves ; and that this was one end of God
in it, to discover the glory of his wisdom to the angels.
"To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers
in heavenly places, might be known by the church the
manifold wisdom of God."

One end of revealing God's counsels concerning the
work of redemption, is making known God's wisdom. It
is called manifold wisdom ; because of the manifold glo
rious ends that are attained by it. The excellent designs,
hereby accomplished, are very manifold. The wisdom of
God in this is of vast extent. The contrivance is so
manifold, that one may spend an eternity in discovering
more of the excellent ends and designs accomplished by
it ; and the multitude and vast variety of things that are,
by divine contrivance, brought to conspire to the bringing
about those ends.
We may observe, to whom it is that God would manifest
this his wisdom, by revealing the mystery of our redemp
tion ; — and they are not only men, but the angels. " To
the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in
heavenly places might be known— the manifold wisdom of
God." The angels are often called principalities and
powers, because of the exalted dignity of their nature.
The angels excel in strength and wisdom. Those who are
the wise men of the earth are called princes in the style of
the apostle, 1 Cor. ii. 6. "Howbeit we speak wisdom
among them that are perfect, yet not the wisdom of this
world, nor of the princes of this world" — ver. 8. " Which
none of the princes of this world knew; for had they
known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of
glory." So the angels are called principalities for their
great wisdom. They may also be- so called for the honour
God has put upon them, in employing them as his minis
ters and instruments, wherewith he governs the world :
and therefore are called thrones, dominions, principalities,
and powers, Col. i. 16.
They are called principalities and powers in heavenly
places, as distinguishing them from those that are in places
of earthly power and dignity. The offices or places of
dignity and power that the angels sustain, are not earthly,

142

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

but heavenly. They are in places of honour and power
in the heavenly city and the heavenly kingdom.
One end of God in revealing his design or contrivance
for redemption, as he hath so fully and gloriously done by
Jesus Christ, is that the angels in heaven may behold the
glory of his wisdom by it. Though they are such bright
inteiligencies, and do always behold the face of God the
Father, and know so much ; yet here is matter of instruc
tion for them. Here they may see more of the divine wis
dom than ever they had seen before. It was a new dis
covery of the wisdom of God to them.
The time when this display of the wisdom of God was
especially made to the angels is, when Christ introduced
the gospel-dispensation, implied in those words, " To the
intent that now unto the principalities," &c. When Christ
came into the world and died, and actually performed the
work of redemption— when he had fully and plainly re
vealed the counsels of God concerning it; and accord
ingly introduced the evangelical dispensation, and erected
the gospel-church — then the angels understood more of
the mystery of man's redemption, and the manifold de
signs and counsels of divine wisdom, than ever they had
done before.
In tbe foregoing verse the apostle, after speaking of re
vealing this wisdom of God to man, " And to make all
men see, what is the fellowship of this mystery," &c.
speaks of this mystery as a thing from the beginning kept
hid till now, " The mystery, which from the beginning of
the world had been hid in God  that now," &c. In
this verse he mentions another end, viz. that he may, at the
same time, make the angels also see God's wisdom in his
glorious scheme of redemption.  " Now at this time,"
implies that it was before a mystery kept hid from them
in comparison of what it is now. And here is room enough
for the angels to discover more and more to all eternity of
the wisdom of God in this work.
Observe the medium by which the angels come by this
knowledge, viz. the church.- — "That now unto princi
palities — might be known by the church," — i. e. by the
things they see done in the church, or towards the church :
and by what they see concerning the church. So hath it
pleased the sovereign God, that the angels should have
the most glorious discoveries of divine wisdom by his
doings towards his church, a sort of beings much inferior
to themselves. It hath pleased God to put this honour
upon us.
The wisdom appearing in the way qf salvation by Jesus
Christ, is far above the wisdom qf the angels. For here
it is mentioned as one end of God in revealing the con
trivance of our salvation, that the angels thereby might
see and know how great and manifold the wisdom of God
is ; to hold forth the divine wisdom to the angels' view
and admiration. But why is it so, if this wisdom be not
higher than their own wisdom ? It never would have
been mentioned as one end of revealing the contrivance
of redemption, that the angels might see how manifold
God's wisdom is ; if all the wisdom to be seen in it was
no greater than their own. It is mentioned as a wisdom
such as they had never seen before, not in God, much less
in themselves. That now might be known how manifold
the wisdom of God is ; now, four thousand years since
the creation. — In all that time the angels had always be
held the face of God ; and had been studying God's works
of creation ; yet they never, till that day, had seen any
thing like that ; never knew how manifold God's wisdom
is, as now they knew it by the church.

SECT. I.
Wonderful things done, by which salvation is procured.
Such is the choice of the person chosen to be our re
deemer, — the substituting of him in our room ; — his incar
nation — his life — his death — and exaltation. And,
1. We will consider the choice of the person to be our
redeemer. When God designed the redemption of man
kind, his great wisdom appears in that he pitched upon
his own, his only-begotten, Son, to be the person to per
form the work. He was a redeemer of God's own choos
ing, and therefore he is called in Scripture, God's elect,

(Isa. lxii. 1.) The wisdom of choosing this person to Le
the redeemer, appears in his being every way a fit person
for this undertaking. It was necessary, that the person
that is the redeemer, should be a divine person. — None but
a divine person was sufficient for this great work. The
work is infinitely unequal to any creature. It was requi
site, that the redeemer of sinners, should be himself infi
nitely holy. None could take away the infinite evil of sin,
but one that was infinitely far from and contrary to sin
himself. Christ is a fit person upon this account.
It was requisite, that the person, in order to be suffi
cient for this undertaking, should be one of infinite dig
nity and worthiness, that he might be capable of meriting
infinite blessings. The Son of God is a fit person on this
account. It was necessary, that he should be a person of
infinite power and wisdom; for this work is so difficult,
that it requires such an one. Christ is a fit person also
upon this account. It was requisite, that he should be a
person infinitely dear to God the Father, in order to give
an infinite value to his transactions in the Father's esteem,
and that the Father's love to him might balance the offence
and provocation by our sins. Christ is a fit person upon
this account. Therefore called the beloved] (Eph. i. 6.)
He hath made us accepted in the beloved.
It was requisite, that the person should be one that
could act in this as of his own absolute right: one that, in
himself, is not a servant or subject ; because, if he is one
that cannot act of his own right, he cannot merit any
thing. He that is a servant, and that can do no more
than he is bound to do, cannot merit. And then he that
has nothing that is absolutely his own, cannot pay any
price to redeem another. Upon this account Christ is a
fit person ; and none but a divine person can be fit. —
And he must be a person also of infinite mercy and love;
for no other person but such an one would undertake a
work so difficult, for a creature so unworthy as man. Upon
this account also Christ is a fit person. — It was requisite
that he should be a person of unchangeable perfect truth
and faithfulness ; otherwise he would not be fit to be de
pended on by us in so great an affair. Christ is also a fit
person upon this account.
The wisdom of God in choosing his eternal Son, ap
pears, not only in that he is a fit person ; but in that he
was the only nt person of all persons, whether created or
uncreated. No created person, neither man, nor angel, J ^
was fit for this undertaking ; for we have just now shown,
that he must be a person of infinite holiness — dignity — '¦;
power — wisdom ; infinitely dear to God — of infinite love
and mercy ; and one that may act of his own absolute
right. But no creature, how excellent soever, has any one
of these qualifications. — There are three uncreated persons,
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; and Christ alone of
these was a suitable person for a redeemer. It was not
meet, that the redeemer should be God the Father ; be
cause he, in the divine economy of the persons of the
Trinity, was the person that holds the rights of the God
head, and so was the person offended, whose justice re
quired satisfaction ; and was to be appeased by a mediator.
It was not meet it should be the Holy Gltost, for in being
mediator between the Father and the saints, he is in some
sense so between the Father and the Spirit. The saints, in all
their spiritual transactions with God, act by the Spirit : or
rather, it is the Spirit of God that acts in them ; they are
the temples of the Holy Ghost. The Holy Spirit dwelling
in them, is their principle of action, in ail their transact-
ings with God. But in these their spiritual transaetings
with God, they act by a mediator. These spiritual and
holy exercises cannot be acceptable, or avail any thing
with God, as from a fallen creature, but by a mediator.
Therefore Christ, in being mediator between the Father and
the saints, may be said to be mediator between the Father
and the Holy Spirit, that acts in the saints. And there
fore it was meet, that the mediator should not be either the
Father or the Spirit, but a middle person between them
both. It is the Spirit in the saints, that seeks the blessing
of God, by faith and prayer ; and, as the apostle says, with
groanings that cannot be uttered, (Rom. viii. 26.) " Like
wise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities : for we know
not what we should pray for as we ought : but the Spirit
itself maketh intercession for us, with groanings that cannot

Sect. I.

WONDERFUL THINGS DONE.

143

be uttered." The Spirit in the saints seeks divine bless
ings of God, by and through a mediator ; and therefore that
mediator must not be the Spirit, but another person.
It shows a divine wisdom, to know that he was a fit per
son. No other but one of divine wisdom could have known
it. None but one of infinite wisdom could have thought
of him to be a redeemer of sinners. For he, as he is God,
is one of the persons offended by sin ; against whom man
by his sin had rebelled. Who but God infinitely wise
could ever have thought of liim to be a redeemer of sinners ;
against whom they had sinned, to whom they were ene
mies, and of whom they deserved infinitely ill ? Who
would ever have thought of him as one that should set his
heart upon man, and exercise infinite love and pity to him,
and exhibit infinite wisdom, power, and merit in redeeming
him ? We proceed,
2. To consider the substituting of this person in our
room. After choosing the person to be our redeemer, the
next step of divine wisdom is, to contrive the way how he
should perform this work. If God had declared who the
person was, that should do this work, and had gone no
further; no creature could have thought which way this
person could have performed the work. If God had told
them, that his own Son must be the redeemer ; and that
he alone was a fit person for the work ; and that he was a
person every way fit and sufficient for it, — but had pro
posed to them to contrive a way how this fit and sufficient
person should proceed, — we may well suppose that all
created understandings would have been utterly at a loss.
The first thing necessary to be done, is, that this Son of
God should become our representative and surety ; and so
be substituted in the sinner's room. But who of created
intelligences would have thought of any such thing as the
eternal and infinitely beloved Son of God being substituted
in the room of sinners ? his standing in stead of a sinner,
a rebel, an object of the wrath of God ? Who would have
thought of a person of infinite glory representing sinful
worms, that had made themselves by sin infinitely provok
ing and abominable ?
For, if the Son of God be substituted, in the sinner's
room, then his sin must be charged upon him : he will
thereby lake the guilt of the sinner upon himself; he must
be subject to the same law that man was, both as to the
commands, and threatenings : but who would have thought
of any such thing concerning the Son of God ? But we
proceed, 3. To consider the incarnation of Jesus Christ. The
next step of divine wisdom in contriving how Christ should
perform the work of redeeming sinners, was in determin
ing his incarnation. Suppose God had revealed his coun
sels thus far to created understandings, that his own Son
was the person chosen for this work, that he had substi
tuted him in the sinner's room, and appointed him to take
the sinner's obligations and guilt on himself— and had re
vealed no more, but had left the rest to them to find out ;
it is no way probable, that even then they could ever have
thought of a way, whereby this person might actually have
performed the work of redemption. For if the Son of
God be substituted in the sinner's stead, then he takes the
sinners' obligations on himself. For instance, he must take
the obligation the sinner is under to perform perfect obedi
ence to the divine law. But it is not probable, that any
creature could have conceived how that could be possible.
—How should a person who is the eternal Jehovah, be
come a servant, be under law, and perform obedience even
to the law of man ?
And again, if the Son of God be substituted in the sin
ner's stead, then he comes under the sinner's obligation to
suffer the punishment which man's sin had deserved. And
whocouldhavethoughtthattobe possible? For how should
a divine person, who is essentially, unchangeably, and in
finitely happy, suffer pair) and torment? And how should
he who is the object of God's infinitely dear-love, suffer
the wrath of his Eather? It is not to be supposed, that
created wisdom ever would have found out a way how to
have got over these difficulties. But divine wisdom hath
found out a way, viz. by the incarnation of the Son of God.
That the Word should be made flesh, that he might be
both God and man, in one person : what created under
standing could have conceived that such a thing was pos

sible? Yet these things could never be proved to be im
possible. This distinction duly considered will show the
futility of many Socinian objections.
And if God had revealed to them, that it was possible,
and even that it should be, but left them to find out how
it should be; we may well suppose that they would all
have been puzzled and confounded, lo conceive of a way
for so uniting a man to the eternal Son of God, that they
should be but one person : that one who is truly a man in
all respects, should indeed be the very same Son of God,
that was with God from all eternity. This is a great mys
tery to us. Hereby, a person that is infinite, omnipotent,
and unchangeable, is become, in a sense, a finite, a feeble
man ; a man subject to our sinless infirmities, passions,and
calamities ! The great God, the sovereign of heaven and
earth, is thus become a worm ofthe dust. (Psal. xxii. 6.)
"lama worm, and no man." He that is eternal and self-
existent, is by this union born of a woman ! He who is the
great original Spirit, is clothed with flesh and blood like one
of us ! He who is independent, self-sufficient, and all-
sufficient, now is come to stand in need of food and cloth
ing : he becomes poor, " has not where to lay his head ;" —
stands in need of the charity of men ; and is maintained
by it ! It is far above us, to conceive how it is done. It is
a great wonder and mystery to us ; but it was no mystery
to divine wisdom.
4. The next thing to be considered is, the life of Christ
in this world. The wisdom of God appears in the circum
stances of his life — and in the work and business of his
life. (1.) The circumstances of his life. If God had revealed
that his own Son should be incarnate, and should live in
this world in the human nature ; and it had been left to
men to determine what circumstances of life would have
been most suitable for, him, human wisdom would have
determined, that he should appear in the world in a most
magnificent manner; with very extraordinary outward en
signs of honour, authority, and power, far above any of the
kings of the earth : that here he should reign in great visi
ble pomp and splendour over all nations. — And thus it was
that men's wisdom did determine, before Christ came.
The wise, the great men among the Jews, scribes and
Pharisees, who are called " Princes of this world," did
expect that the Messiah would thus appear. But the
wisdom of God chose quite otherwise : it chose that when
the Son of God became man, he should begin his life in a
stable ; for many years dwell obscurely in a family of low
degree in the world ; and be in low outward circumstances :
that he should be poor, and not have where to lay his
head : that he should be maintained by the charity of some
of his disciples; that he should " Grow up as a tender
plant, and as a root out of a dry ground," (Isa. liii. 2.)
" That he should not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice
to be heard in the streets," (Isa. xiii. 2.) That he should
come to Zion in a lowly manner, " riding on an ass, and
a colt the foal of an ass." — " That he should be despised
and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with
grief. And now the divine deteimination in this matter is made
known, we may safely conclude that it is far the most suit
able ; and that it would not have been at all suitable for
God, when he was manifest in flesh, to appear with earthly
pomp, wealth, and grandeur. No ! these things are in
finitely too mean and despicable, for the Son of God to
show as if he affected or esteemed them. Men, if they
had this way proposed to them, would have been ready to
condemn it, as foolish and very unsuitable for the Son of
God. " But the foolishness of God is wiser than men,"
(1 Cor. i. 25.) " And God hath brought to nought the
wisdom of this world, and the princes of this world,"
(1 Cor. ii. 6.) Christ, by thus appearing in mean and low
outward circumstances in the world, has poured contempt
upon all worldly wealth and glory ; and has taught us to
despise it. And if it becomes mean men to despise them,
how much more did it become the Son of God ! And then
Christ hereby hath taught us to be lowly in heart. If he
who was infinitely high and great, was thus lowly ; how
lowly should we be, who are indeed so vile !
(2.) The wisdom of God appears in the work and busi
ness of the life of Christ. Particularly, that he should

144
perfectly obey the law of God, under such great tempta
tions : that he should have conflicts with, and overcome
for us, in a way of obedience, the powers of earth and
hell : that he should be subject to, not only the moral law,
but the ceremonial also, that heavy yoke of bondage.
Christ went through the time of his public ministry, in
delivering to us divine instructions and doctrines. The
wisdom of God appears in giving us such an one to be our
prophet and teacher, who is a divine person : who is fum-
selfthe very wisdom and word of God ; and was from all
eternity in the bosom of the Father. His word is of
greater authority and weight than if delivered by the
mouth of an ordinary prophet. And how wisely ordered
that the same should be our teacher and Redeemer ; in
order that his relations and offices, as Redeemer, might
the more sweeten and endear his instructions to us. We
are ready to give heed to what is said by those who are
dear to us. Our love to their persons makes us to delight
in their discourse. It is therefore wisely ordered, that he
who has done so much to endear himself to us, should
be appointed our great prophet, to deliver to us divine
doctrines. 5. The next thing to be considered is the death of
Christ. This is a means of salvation for poor sinners, that
no other but divine wisdom would have pitched upon ;
and when revealed, it was doubtless greatly to the surprise
of all the hosts of heaven, and they never will cease to
wonder at it. How astonishing is it, that a person who is
blessed for ever, and is infinitely and essentially happy,
should endure the greatest sufferings that ever were endured
on earth ! That a person who is the supreme Lord and
judge of the world, should be arraigned, and should stand
at the judgment-seat of mortal worms, and then be con
demned. That a person who is the living God, and the
fountain of life, should be put to death. That a person
who created the world, and gives life to all his creatures,
should be put to death by his own creatures. That aper-
son of infinite majesty and glory, and so the object ofthe
love, praises, and adorations of angels, should be mocked
and spit upon by the vilest of men. That a person, infi
nitely good, and who is love itself, should suffer the great
est cruelty. That a person who is infinitely beloved of the
Father, should be put to inexpressible anguish under his
own Father's wrath. That he who is King of heaven, who
hath heaven for his throne, and the earth for his footstool,
should be buried in the prison of the grave. How won
derful is this ! And yet this is the way that God's wisdom
hath fixed upon, as the way of sinners' salvation; as
neither unsuitable nor dishonourable to Christ.
6. The last thing done to procure salvation for sinners,
is Christ's exaltation. Divine wisdom saw it needful, or
most expedient, that the same person who died upon the
cross, should sit at his right hand, on his own throne, as
supreme Governor ofthe world ; and should have particu
larly the absolute disposal of all things relating to man's
salvation, and should be the judge of the world. This
was needful, because it was requisite that the same person
who purchased salvation, should have the bestowing of it ;
for it is not fit, that God should at all transact with the
fallen creature in a way of mercy, but by a mediator.
And this is exceedingly for the strengthening of the faith
and comfort of the saints, that he who hath endured so
much to purchase salvation for them, has all things in
heaven and in earth delivered unto him ; that he might
bestow eternal life on them for whom he purchased it.
And that the same person that loved them so greatly as to
shed his precious blood for them, was to be their final
judge. This then was another thing full of wonders, that he who
was man as well as God ; he who was a servant, and died
like a malefactor ; should be made the sovereign Lord of
heaven and earth, angels and men ; the absolute disposer
of eternal life and death ; the supreme judge of all created
intelligent beings, for eternity : and should have com
mitted to him all the governing power of God the Father ;
and that, not only as God, but as God-man, not exclusive
of the human nature.
As it is wonderful, that a person who is truly divine
should be humbled so as to become a servant, and to
suffer as a malefactor ; so it is in like manner wonderful,

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

that he who is God-man, not exclusive of the manhood,
should be exalted to the power and honour ot the great
God of heaven and earth. But such wonders as these has
infinite wisdom contrived, and accomplished in order to
our salvation. SECT. II.
In this way qf salvation God is greatly glorified.
God has greatly glorified himself in the work of crea
tion and providence. All his works praise him, and his
glory shines brightly from them all : but as some stars
differ from others in glory, so the glory of God shines
brighter in some of his works than in others. And amongst
all these, the work of redemption is like the sun in his
strength. The glory of the author is abundantly the most
resplendent in this work.
I. Each attribute of God is glorified in the work of re
demption. How God has exceedingly glorified his wisdom,
may more fully appear before we have done with this sub
ject. But more particularly,
1. God hath exceedingly glorified his power in this
work. — It shows the great and inconceivaole power of
God to unite natures so infinitely different, as the divine
and human nature, in one person. If God can make one
who is truly God, and one that is truly man, the self-same
person, what is it that he cannot do ? This is a greater
and more marvellous work than creation.
The power of God most gloriously appears in man's
being actually saved and redeemed in this way. In his
being brought out of a state of sin and misery, into a
conformity to God ; and at last to the full and perfect en
joyment of God. This is a more glorious demonstration
of divine power, than creating things out of nothing, upon
two accounts. One is, the effect is greater and more ex
cellent. To produce the new creature is a more glorious
effect, than merely to produce a creature. — Making a holy
creature, a creature in the spiritual image of God, in the
image of the divine excellencies, and a partaker of the
divine nature — is a greater effect than merely to give
being. And therefore as the effect is greater, it is a more
glorious manifestation of power.
And then, in this effect of the actual redemption of sin
ners, the term from which, is more distant from the term to
which, than in the work of creation. The term from which,
in the work of creation, is nothing, and the term to which,
is being. But the term from which, in the work of re
demption, is a state infinitely worse than nothing ; and the
term to which, a holy and a happy being, a state infinitely
better than mere being. The terms in the production of
the last, are much more remote from one another, than in
the first.
And then the production of this last effect, is a more
glorious manifestation of power, than the work of creation;
because, though in creation, the terms are very distant — as
nothing is very remote from being — yet there is no opposi
tion. Nothing makes no opposition to the creating power
of God. — But in redemption, the divine power meets with
and overcomes great opposition. There is great opposition
in a state of sin to a state of grace. Men's lusts and cor
ruptions are exceedingly opposite to grace and holiness ;
and greatly resist the production of the effect. But this
opposition is completely overcome in actual redemption.
Besides, there is great opposition from Satan. The
power of God is very glorious in this work, because it
therein conquers the strongest and most powerful enemies.
Power never appears more illustrious than in conquering.
Jesus Christ, in this work, conquers and triumphs over
thousands of devils, strong and mighty spirits, uniting all
their strength against him. Luke xi. 21. " When a strong
man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace :
but when a stronger than he shall overcome him, he taketh
from him all his armour wherein he trusted, and divideth
his spoil." Col. ii. 15. " And having spoiled principali
ties and powers, he made a show of them openly, triumph
ing over them in the cross."
2. The justice of God is exceedingly glorified in this
work. God is so strictly and immutably just, that he
would not spare his beloved Son when he took upon him
the guilt of men's sins, and was substituted in the room

Sect. II.

GOD GREATLY GLORIFIED

14.1

of sinners. He would not abate him the least mite of that
debt which justice demanded. Justice should take place,
though it cost his infinitely dear Son his precious blood;
and his enduring such extraordinary reproach, and pain,
and death in its most dreadful form.
3. The holiness of God is also exceedingly glorious in
this work. Never did God so manifest his hatred of sin
as in the death and sufferings of his only-begotten Son.
Hereby he showed himself unappeasable to sin, and that
it was impossible for him to be at peace with it.
4. God hath also exceedingly glorified his truth in this
way, both in his threatenings and promises. Herein is
fulfilled the threatenings of the law, wherein God said,
" In the day thou eatest thereof thou shaft surely die. And
cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written
in the book of the law to do them." God showed hereby,
that not only heaven and earth should pass away, but,
which is more, that the blood of him who is the eternal
Jehovah should be spilt, rather than one jot or little of
his word should fail, till all be fulfilled.
5. And lastly, God has exceedingly glorified his mercy
and love in this work.. The mercy of God was an attri
bute never seen before in its exercises, till it was seen in
this work of redemption, or the fruits of it. The goodness
of God appeared towards the angels in giving them being
and blessedness. It appeared glorious towards man in
his primitive state, a state of holiness and happiness. But
now God hath shown that he can find in his heart to love
sinners, who deserve his infinite hatred. And not only
hath he shown that he can love them, but love them so as
to give them more and do greater things for them than ever
he did for the holy angels, that never sinned nor offended
their Creator. He loved sinful men so as to give them a
greater gift than ever he gave the angels ; so as to give his
own Son, and not only to give him to be their possession
and enjoyment, but to give him to be their saerifice. And
herein he has done more for them, than if he had given
them all the visible world ; yea, more than if he had given
them all the angels, and all heaven besides. God hath
loved them so, that hereby he purchased for them deliver
ance from eternal misery, and the possession of immortal
glory. II. Each person of the Trinity is exceedingly glorified
in this work. Herein the work of redemption is distin
guished from all the other works of God. The attributes
of God are glorious in his other works ; but the three per
sons of the Trinity are distinctly glorified in no work as in
this of redemption. In this work every distinct person
has his distinct parts and offices assigned! him. Each one
has his particular and distinct concern in it, agreeable to
their distinct, personal properties, relations, and economi
cal offices. The redeemed have an equal concern with
and dependence upon each person, in this affair, and owe
equal honour and praise to each of them.
The Father appoints and provides the Redeemer, and
accepts the price of redemption. The Son is the Redeemer
and the price. He redeems by offering up himself. The
Holy Ghost immediately communicates to us the thing
purchased ; yea, and he is the good purchased. The sum
of what Christ purchased for us is holiness and happiness.
But the Holy Ghost is the great principle both of all holi
ness and happiness. The Holy Ghost is the sum of all
that Christ purchased for men. Gal. iii. 1 3, 14. " He was
made a curse for us, that we might receive the promise of
the Spirit, through faith."
The blessedness of the redeemed consists in partaking
of Christ's fulness, which consists in partaking of that
Spirit, which is given not by measure unto him. This is
the oil that was poured upon the head of the church,
which ran down to the members of his body ; to the skirts
of his garment. Thus we have an equal concern with and
dependence upon each of the persons of the Trinity, dis
tinctly ; upon the Father, as he provides the Redeemer,
and the person of whom the purchase is made ; — the Son
as the purchaser, and the price ; — the Holy Ghost, as the
good purchased.

SECT. III.
The good attained by salvation is wonderfully various and
exceeding great.
Here we may distinctly consider — the variety — and
the greatness — of the good procured for men.
I. The good procured by salvation is wonderfully various.
Here are all sorts of good procured for fallen man, that he
does or can really need, or is capable of. The wisdom of
God appears in the way of salvation, in that it is most
worthy of an infinitely wise God, because every way per
fect and sufficient. We, in our fallen state, are most ne
cessitous creatures, full of wants : but they are here all
answered. Every sort of good is here procured ; whatever
would really contribute to our happiness, and even many
things we could not have thought of, had not Christ pur
chased them for us, and revealed them to us. Every
demand of our circumstances, and craving of our natures,
is here exactly answered. — For instance,
1. We stand in need of peace with God. We had pro
voked God to anger, his wrath abode upon us, and we
needed to have it appeased. This is done for us in this
way of salvation ; for Christ, by shedding his blood, has
fully satisfied justice, and appeased God's wrath, for all
that shall believe in him. By the sentence of the law we
were condemned to hell ; and we needed to have our sins
pardoned that we might be delivered from hell. But in
this work, pardon of sin and deliverance from hell, is fully
purchased for us.
2. We needed not only to have God's wrath appeased,
and our sins pardoned ; but we needed to have the favour
ot God. To have God, not only not our enemy, but our
friend. Now God's favour is purchased for us by the
righteousness of Jesus Christ.
3. We needed not only to be delivered from hell, but to
have some satisfying happiness bestowed. Man has a
natural craving and thirst after happiness ; and will thirst
and crave, till his capacity is filled. And his capacity is
of vast extent; and nothing but an infinite good can fill
and satisfy his desires. But, notwithstanding, provision
is made in this way of salvation to answer those needs,
there is a satisfying happiness purchased for us ; that which
is fully answerable to the capacity and cravings of our souls.
Here is food procured to answer all the appetites and
faculties of our souls. God has made the soul of man of
a spiritual nature ; and therefore he needs a corresponding
happiness ; some spiritual object, in the enjoyment of
which he may be happy. Christ has purchased the enjoy
ment of God, who is the great and original Spirit, as the
portion of our souls. And he hath purchased the Spirit of
God to come and dwell in us as an eternal principle of
happiness. God hath made man a rational, intelligent creature;
and man needs some good that shall be a suitable object
of his understanding, for him to contemplate ; wherein he
may have full and sufficient exercise for his capacious
faculties, in their utmost extent. Here is an object that is
great and noble, and worthy of the exercise of the noblest
faculties of the rational soul. — God himself should be
theirs, for them for ever to behold and contemplate ; his
glorious perfections and works are most worthy objects ;
and there is room enough for improving them, and still to
exercise their faculties to all eternity. — What object can
be more worthy to exercise the understanding of a rational
soul, than the glories of the Divine Being, with which the
heavenly intelligences, and even the infinite understand
ing of God himself is entertained ? .
Our souls need some good that shall be a suitable ob
ject of the will and affections ; a suitable object for the
choice, the acquiescence, the love, and the joy of the ra
tional soul. Provision is made for this also in this way
of salvation. There is an infinitely excellent Being offered
to be chosen, to be rested in, to be loved, to be rejoiced
in, by us : even God himself, who is infinitely lovely, the
fountain of all good ; a fountain that can never be exhaust
ed, where we can be in no danger of going to excess in
our love and joy : and here we may be assured ever to
find our joy and delight in enjoyments answerable to our
love and desires.

140

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

4. There is ah possible enjoyment of this object, pro
cured in this way of salvation. When persons entirely
set their love upon another, they naturally desire to see
that person : merely to hear of the person, does not satis
fy love. So here is provision made that we should see
God, the object of our supreme love. Not only that we
should hear and read of him in his word, but that we
shouid see him with a spiritual eye here : and not only so,
but that we should have the satisfaction of seeing God
face to face hereafter. This is promised, (Matt. v. 8.)
" Blessed are the pure in heart ; for they shall see God."
It is promised, that we shall not see God, as through a
glass darkly, as we do now, but face to face. 1 Cor. xiii.
12. That we shall see Christ as he is. 1 John iii. 2.
We naturally desire not only to see those whom we love,
but to converse with them. Provision is made for this
also, that we should have spiritual conversation with God
while in this world ; and that we should be hereafter ad
mitted to converse with Christ in the most intimate man
ner possible. Provision is made in this way of salvation,
that we should converse with God much more intimately,
than otherwise it would have been possible for us ; for
now Christ is incarnate, is in our nature : he is become
one of us, whereby we are under advantages for an im
mensely more free and intimate converse with him, than
could have been, if he had remained only in the divine
nature ; and so in a nature infinitely distant from us. — ¦
We naturally desire not only to converse with those whom
we greatly love, but to dwell with them. Provision, through
Christ, is" made for this. It is purchased and provided
that we should dwell with God in his own house in
heaven, which is called our Father's house. — To dwell for
ever in God's presence, and at his right hand.
We naturally desire to have a right in that person whom
we greatly love. Provision is made, in this way of salva
tion, that we should have a right in God ; a right to him.
This is the promise of the covenant of grace, " That he
will be our God." God, with all his glorious perfections
and attributes, with all his power and wisdom, and with
all his majesty and glory, will be ours ; so that we may
call him our inheritance, and the portion of our souls :
what we can humbly claim by faith, having this portion
made over to us by a firm instrument ; by a covenant or
dered in all things and sure. — And we may also hereby
claim a right to Jesus Christ. Love desires that the right
should be mutual. The lover desires, not only to have a
right to the beloved, but that the beloved should also have a
right to him : he desires to be his beloved's, as well as his
beloved should be his. Provision is also made for this, in
this wise method of salvation, that God should have a
special propriety in the redeemed, that they should be in
a distinguishing manner his, that they should be his pecu
liar people. We are told that God sets apart the godly
for himself, Psal. iv. 3. They are called God's jewels.
The spouse speaks it with great satisfaction and rejoicing,
Cant. ii. 16. " My beloved is mine, and I am his.
Love desires to stand in some near relation to the be
loved. Provision is made by Christ, that we should stand
in the nearest possible relation to God ; that he should be
our Father, and we should be his children. We are often
instructed in the Holy Scriptures, that God is the Father of
believers, and that they are his family. — And not only so,
but they stand in the nearest relation to Christ Jesus.
There is the closest union possible. The souls of believers
are married to Christ. The church is the bride, the Lamb's
wife. Yea, there is yet a nearer relation than can be re
presented by such a similitude. Believers are as the very
members of Christ, and of his flesh and of his bones,
Eph. v. 30. Yea, this is not near enough yet, but they
are one spirit, 1 Cor. vi. 17.
Love naturally inclines to a conformity to the beloved.
To have those excellencies, upon the account of which he
is beloved, copied in himself. Provision is made in this
way of salvation, that we may be conformed to God ; that
we shall be transformed into the same image. 2 Cor. iii.
18. " We all with open face, beholding as in a glass the
glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from
glory to glory." — And that nereafter we shall see him as
he is, and be like him.
It is the natural desire of love to do something for the

beloved, either for his pleasure or honour. Provision is
made for this also in this way of salvation ; that we should
be made instruments of glorifying God, and promoting
his kingdom, here, and of glorifying him to all eternity.
5. In this way of salvation, provision is made for our
having every sort of good that man naturally craves ; as
honour, wealth, and pleasure. — Here is provision made
that we should be brought to the highest honour. This is
what God has promised, that those that honour him, he
will honour. And that true Christians shall be kings and
priests unto God. — Christ has promised, that as his Father
has appointed unto him a kingdom, so he wilt appoint unto
them, that they may eat and drink at his table in his king
dom. He has promised to crown them with a crown of
glory, and that they shall sit with him in his throne. That
he will confess their names before his Father, and before his
angels. That lie will give them a new name ; and that they
shall walk with him in white.
Christ has also purchased for them the greatest wealth.
All those that are in Christ are rich. They are now rich.
They have the best riches ; being rich in faith, and the
graces of the Spirit of God. They have gold tried in the
fire. They have durable riches and righteousness. They
have treasure in heaven, where neither thief approached),
nor moth corrupteth. An inheritance incorruptible, un
defiled, and fadeth not away. They are possessors- of all
things. . Christ has also purchased pleasure for them ; pleasures
that are immensely preferable to all the pleasures of sense,
most exquisitely sweet, and satisfying. He has purchased
for them fulness of joy, and pleasures for evermore at
God's right hand ; and they shall drink of tlie river of
God's pleasure.
6. Christ has purchased all needed good both for
soul and body. While we are here, we stand in need of
these earthly things ; and of these Christ has purchased
all that are best for us. He has purchased for the body
that God should feed, and clothe us. Matt. vi. 26. " How
much more shall he feed you, O ye of little faith !" How
much more shall he clothe you ! Christ has purchased, that
God should take care of us, and provide what is needed
of these things, as a father provides for his children.
1 Pet. v. 7. " Casting your care upon him, for he careth
for you."
7. Christ has purchased good that is suitable for his
people in all conditions. There is, in this way of salva
tion, respect had to, and provision made for, all circum
stances that they can be in. Here is provision made, for
a time of affliction — for a time of poverty and pinching
want — for a time of bereavement and mourning — for
spiritual darkness — for a day of temptation — for a time of
persecution — and for a time of death. Here is such a
provision made that is sufficient to carry a person above
death, and all its terrors ; and to give him a complete
triumph over that king of terrors. Here is enough to
sweeten the grave, and make it cease to seem terrible.
Yea, enough to make death in prospect to seem desirable ;
and in its near approach to be not terrible but joyful.
8. There is provision made in this way of salvation for
the life and blessedness of soul and body to all eternity.
Christ has purchased, that we should be delivered from a
state of temporal death, as weft as spiritual and eternal.
The bodies of the saints shall be raised to life. He has
purchased all manner of perfection for the body of which
it is capable. It shall be raised a spiritual body in incor
ruption and glory, and be made like Christ s glorious
body, to shine as the sun in the kingdom of his Father,
and to exist in a glorified state in union with the soul to
all eternity.
9. But man in his fallen state still needs something else
in order to his happiness, than that these fore-mentioned
blessings should be purchased for him, viz. He needs to
be qualified for the possession and enjoyment of them. In
order to our having a title to these blessings of the cove
nant of grace, [so that we can scripturally claim an interest
in them,] there is a certain condition must be performed
by us. We must believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and
accept of him as offered in the gospel for a Saviour. But,
as we cannot do this of ourselves, Christ has purchased
this also for all the elect. He has purchased, that they

Sect. IV

ANGELS BENEFITED BY SALVATION.

147

shall have faith given them ; whereby they shall be
[actively] united to Christ, and so have a [pleadable] title
to his benefits!
But still something further is necessary for man, in order
to his coming to the actual possession of the inheritance.
A man, as soon as he has believed, has a title to the in
heritance : but in order to come to the actual possession
of it, he must persevere in a way of holiness. There is not
only a gate that must be entered ; but there is a narrow way
that must be travelled, before we can arrive at heavenly
blessedness ; and that is a way of universal and persever
ing holiness. But men, after they have believed, cannot
persevere in a way of holiness, of themselves. But there
is sufficient provision made for this also, in the way of
salvation by Jesus Christ. The matter of a saint's perse
verance is sufficiently secured by the purchase that Christ
has made.
But still there is something else needful in order to
qualify a person for the actual entering upon the enjoy
ments and employments of a glorified estate, viz. that he
should be made perfectly holy ; that all remainders of sin
should be taken away ; for there cannot any sin enter into
heaven. No soul must go into the glorious presence of
God, with the least degree of the filth of sin. But there
is provision made : for Christ has purchased that all sin
shall be taken away out of the hearts of believers at
death ; and that they should be made perfectly holy :
whereby they shall be fully and perfectly qualified to enter
upon the pleasures and enjoyments of the new Jerusalem.
Christ has purchased all, both objective and inherent
good : not only a portion to be enjoyed by us ; but all
those inherent qualifications necessary to our enjoyment
of it. He has purchased not only justification, but sancti
fication and glorification ; both holiness and happiness". —
Having considered the good attained in the way of salva
tion as manifold and various, I now proceed, as proposed,
II. To consider the good attained for us by this way of
salvation, as exceeding great.
There is not only every sort of good we need, but of
every sort in that degree, so as to answer the extent of our
capacity, and the greatest stretch of our desires, and indeed
of our conceptions. They are not only greater than our
conceptions are here, but also greater than ever they could
be, were it not that God's relation, and our own experience,
will teach us. They are greater than the tongue of angels
can declare, the deliverance that we have in it is exceeding
great ; it is deliverance from guilt, from sin itself, from the
anger of God, and from the miseries of hell.
How great is the good conferred ! The objective good is
the infinite God, and the glorious Redeemer, Jesus Christ.
How great is the love of the Father, and the Son ! And
how near the relation between them and the true believer !
How close the union, how intimate the communion, and
ultimately how clear will be the vision in glory !
There are great communications made to the believing
soul on earth, but how much greater in heaven ! Then
their conformity to God will be perfect, their enjoyment of
him will be full, their honour great and unsullied, and
the glory of body and soul ineffable. The riches of the
Christian are immense; all things are included in his
treasure. Pleasures unspeakably and inconceivably great
await him ; rivers of delight, fulness of joy ; and all of
infinite duration.
The benefit procured for us, is doubly infinite. Our
deliverance is an infinite benefit, because the evil we are
delivered from is infinite; and the positive good be
stowed is eternal ; viz. the full enjoyment of all those
blessings merited.

SECT. IV.
How angels are benefited by the salvation qfmen.
So hath the wisdom of God contrived this affair, that the
benefit of what he has done therein should be so extensive,
as to reach the elect angels. It is for men that the work
of redemption is wrought out ; and yet the benefit of the
things done in this work is not confined to them, though
all that is properly called redemption, or included in it, is
confined to men. The angels cannot partake in this,
L 2

having never fallen; yet they have great indirect benefit by
it.— God hath so wisely ordered, that what has been done
in this directly and especially for men, should redound to
the exceeding benefit of all intelligent creatures* who are
in favour with God. The benefit of it is so diffusive as to
reach heaven itself. So great and manifold is the good
attained in this work, that those glorious spirits who are so
much above us, and were so highly exalted in happiness
before, yet should receive great addition hereby. — I will
show how in some particulars.
1. The angels hereby see a great and wonderful mani
festation of the glory of God. The happiness of angels as
well as of men consists very much in beholding the glory
of God. The excellency of the Divine Being is a most
delightful subject of contemplation to the saints on earth ;
but much more to the angels in heaven. The more holy
any being is, the more sweet and delightful will it be to
him to behold the glory and beauty of the Supreme Being.
— Therefore the beholding of the glory of God must be
ravishing to the holy angels, who are perfect in holiness,
and never had their minds leavened with sin. The mani
festations of the glory of God, are as it were the food that
satisfies the angels ; they live thereon. It is their greatest
happiness. It is without doubt much of their employment to behold
the glory of God appearing in his works. Therefore this
work of redemption greatly contributes to their happiness
and delight, as the giory of God is so exceedingly mani
fested by it. For what is done, is done in the sight of the
angels, as is evident by many passages of Holy Scripture.
And they behold the glory of God appearing herein with
entertainment and delight, as it is manifest by 1 Pet. i.
12. " Which things the angels desire to look into."
The angels have this advantage, that now they may
behold the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, where
it shines with a peculiar lustre and brightness. 1 Tim. iii.
5. " Great is the mystery of godliness, God was manifest
in the flesh, justified in the spirit, seen of angels." Per
haps all God s attributes are more gloriously manifested in
this work, than in any other that ever the angels saw.
There is certainly a fuller manifestation of some of his
attributes, than ever they saw before ; as is evident by the
text. And especially, it is so with respect to the mercy of
God, that sweet and endearing attribute of the divine
nature. The angels of heaven never saw so much grace
manifested before, as in the work of redemption ; nor in
any measure equal to it. How full of joy doth it fill the
hearts of the angels, to see such a boundless and bottom
less ocean of love and grace in their God. And therefore
with what rejoicing do all the angels praise Christ for his
being slain ! Rev. v. 11, 12. "And I beheld and heard
the voice of many angels round about the throne, and the
beasts and the elders : and the number of them was ten
thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands ;
saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was
slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing."
2. They have this benefit by it, that hereby Jesus
Christ, God-man, is become their head. God, subsisting
in three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, was the
king of angels, and would have been, if it had not been for
our redemption. But it was owing to what is done in this
work, that Jesus Christ, as God-man, becomes the head
of the angels. Christ is now not only the head of angels
simply as God, but as God-man. Col.ii. 10. "And ye are
complete in him, who is the head of all principality and
power." Eph. i. 20—22. " Which he wrought in Christ,
when he raised him from the dead, and set him on his
own right hand in heavenly places, far above all princi
pality and power, and might and dominion, and every
name that is named, not only in this world, but also in
that which is to come. And hath put all things under
his feet, and gave him to be head over all things to the
church." This is a part of the exaltation and glory of Christ
which God confers on him as his reward. And not only
so, but it is greatly to the angels' benefit. It is God's
manner in his dealings with his elect creatures, in the same
works wherein he glorifies himself, or his Son, greatly to
benefit them. The same dealings of his that are most for

148

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

his glory, shall be most for their good. — That Christ, God-
man, should be made the head of the angels, is greatly to
their beijefit several ways.
(1.) Because they become hereby more nearly related to
so glorious a person, the Son of God, than otherwise they
would have. The angels esteem it a great honour done
them to be related to such a person as Jesus Christ, God-
man, who is an infinitely honourable person.
The angels, by Christ becoming their head, are with the
saints gathered together in one in Christ, Eph. i. 10. They
by virtue hereof, though Christ be not their Redeemer as
he is ours, have a right and propriety in this glorious per
son, as well as we. He is theirs : though not their Sa
viour, yet he is their head of government, and head of in
fluence. (2.) Again, this is greatly to their benefit ; as they are
under advantages for a far more intimate converse with
God. The divine nature is at an infinite distance from the
nature of angels, as well as from the nature of man. This
distance forbids a familiarity and intimacy of intercourse.
— It is therefore a great advantage to the angels, that God
is come down to them in a created nature ; and in that
nature is become their head ; so that their intercourse and
enjoyment may be more intimate. They are invited by the
similar qualifications of the created nature, with which the
Son of God is invested.
(3.) It is for the benefit of the angels, as hereby the
elect of mankind are gathered into their society. Christ,
by the work of redemption, gathers in the elect of man
kind to join the angels of heaven. Eph. i. 10. " That in
the dispensation of the fulness of times, he might gather
in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and
which are on earth, even in him." Men are brought in to
join with the angels in their work of praising God ; to
partake with them of their enjoyments. The angels greatly
rejoice at this. They rejoice when but one person is ga
thered in, as Christ teaches us, Luke xv. 10. " Likewise I
say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of
God over one sinner that repenteth." The heavenly society
is made more complete by this accession of the saints to it;
they contribute to the happiness of each other. The angels
rejoice that others are added to join them and assist them
in praising God. — And thus the vacancy by the fall of
angels is filled up.
(4.) It tends to make the angels to prize their happiness
the more, when they see how much it cost to purchase the
same happiness for man. Though they knew so much,
yet they are not incapable of being taught more and more
the worth of their own happiness. For when they saw
how much it cost to purchase the same happiness for man ;
even the precious blood of the Son of God ; this tended
to give them a great sense of the infinite value of their
happiness. They never saw such a testimony of the value
of the eternal enjoyment of God before.
Thus we have shown, how the wisdom of God appears
in the work of redemption in the good ends attained there
by, with respect to God, men, and good angels.
But are there any good ends obtained with respect to
bad angels, God's grand enemies ? Undoubtedly there are,
as may appear from the few following considerations.
Satan and his angels rebelled against God in heaven, and
proudly presumed to try their strength with his. And
when God by his almighty power overcame the strength of
Satan, and sent him like lightning from heaven to hell
with all his army, Satan still hoped to get the victory by
subtlety. Though he could not overcome by power, yet
he hoped to succeed by craft ; and so by his subtlety to
disappoint God of his end in creating this lower world. —
God therefore has shown his great wisdom in overthrowing
Satan's design. He has disappointed the devices of the
crafty, so that they cannot perform their enterprise ; he has
carried their counsel headlong.
1. Satan thought to have disappointed God of his glory,
which he designed in creating this lower world ; and to
make mankind be for his own glory, in setting up himself
god over them. Now Christ, by what he has done in the
work of redemption, has overthrown Satan ; and utterly
frustrated him as to this end. God is exceedingly glorified
in the elect, to the surprise of angels and devils. God by
redemption has all the glory that he intended, and more

than either men, angels, or devils imagined that God in
tended. God might have glorified his justice in the de
struction of all mankind. But it was God's design in
creating the world, to glorify his goodness and love ; and
not only to be glorified eventually, but to be served and
glorified actually by men. Satan intended to frustrate God
of this end ; but, by the redemption of Jesus Christ, his
design is confounded.
2. Another design of the devil, was to gratify his envy
in the utter destruction of mankind. But, by the redemp
tion of Jesus Christ, this malicious design of Satan is
crossed : because all the elect are brought to their designed
happiness ; which is much greater than ever Satan thought
it was in God's heart to bestow on man. And though
some of mankind are left to be miserable, yet that does
not answer Satan's end ; for this also is ordered for God's
glory. No more are left miserable than God saw meet to
glorify his justice upon.
One end why God suffered Satan to do what he did in
procuring the fall of man, was that his Son might be glorified
in conquering that strong, subtle, and proud spirit, and
triumphing over him. How glorious doth Christ Jesus
appear in baffling and triumphing over this proud king of
darkness, and all the haughty confederate rulers of hell.
How glorious a sight is it to see the meek and patient
Lamb of God leading that proud, malicious, and mighty
enemy in triumph ! What songs doth this cause in heaven !
It was a glorious sight in Israel to see David carrying the
head of Goliah in triumph to Jerusalem. It appeared
glorious to the daughters of Israel, who came out with
timbrels and with dances, and sang, " Saul hath slain his
thousands, and David his ten thousands." But how much
more glorious to see the Son of David, the Son of God,
carrying the head of the spiritual Goliah, the champion of
the armies of hell, in triumph to the heavenly Jerusalem !
It is with a principal view to this, that Christ is called,
" the Lord of hosts, or armies, and a man of war," Exod.
xv. 3. And Psal. xxiv. 8. " Who is this king of glory !
The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle."

SECT. V.
In this way qf salvation wonderful glory redounds to God,
as the effect qf divine wisdom.
1. By this contrivance for our redemption, God's greatest
dishonour is made an occasion of his greatest glory. Sin
is a thing by which God is greatly dishonoured ; the nature
of its principle is enmity against God, and contempt of
him. And man, by his rebellion, has greatly dishonoured
God. But this dishonour, by the contrivance of our re
demption, is made an occasion of the greatest manifesta
tion of God's glory that ever was. Sin, the greatest evil,
is made an occasion of the greatest good. It is the nature
of a principle of sin that it seeks to dethrone God : but
this is hereby made an occasion of the greatest manifestation
of God's wyal majesty and glory that ever was. By sin,
man has slighted and despised God : but this is made an
occasion of his appearing the more greatly honourable.
Sin casts contempt upon the authority and law of God :
but this, by the contrivance of our redemption, is made
the occasion of the greatest honour done to that same
authority, and to that very law. It was a greater honour
to the law of God that Christ was subject to it, and obey
ed it, than if all mankind had obeyed it. It was a greater
honour to God's authority that Christ showed such great
respect, and such entire subjection to it, than the perfect
obedience of all the angels in heaven. Man by his sin
showed his enmity against the holiness of God : but this
is made an occasion of the greatest manifestation of God's
holiness. The holiness of God never appeared to so great
a degree, as when God executed vengeance upon his own
dear Son.
2. So has the wisdom of God contrived that those attri
butes are glorified in man's salvation, whose glory seemed
to require his destruction. When man had fallen, several
attributes of God seemed to require his destruction. The
justice of God requires, that sin be punished as it deserves :
but it deserves no less than eternal destruction. God pro •
claims it as a part of the glory of his nature, that he will

Sect. V.

WONDERFUL GLORY REDOUNDS TO GOD.

119

in no wise clear the guilty, Exod. xxxiv. 7. The holiness
of God seemed to require man's destruction ; for God by
his holiness infinitely hates sin. This seemed to require
therefore that God should manifest a proportionable hatred
of the sinner ; and that he should be for ever an enemy
unto him. The truth of God seemed also to require man s
destruction ; for eternal death was what God had threaten
ed for sin, one jot or tittle of which threatening cannot by
any means pass away. But yet so has God contrived,
that those very attributes not only allow of man's redemp
tion, and are not inconsistent with it, but they are glorified
in it. Even vindictive justice is glorified in the death and
sufferings of Christ. The holiness of God, or his holy
hatred of sin, that seemed to require man's damnation, is
seen in Christ's dying for sinners. So herein also is mani
fested and glorified the truth of God, in the threatenings
of the law.
3. Yea, it is so ordered now that the glory of these at
tributes requires the salvation of those that believe. The
justice of God that required man's damnation, and seemed
inconsistent with his salvation, now as much requires the
salvation of those that believe in Christ, as ever before it
required their damnation. Salvation is an absolute debt
to the believer from God, so that he may in justice demand
it, on account of what his surety has done. For Christ
has satisfied justice fully for his sin ; so that it is but a
thing that may be challenged, that God should now release
the believer from the punishment ; it is but a piece of
justice, that the creditor should release the debtor, when
ne has fully paid the debt. And again, the believer may
demand eternal life, because it has been merited by Christ,
by a merit of condignity. So is it contrived, that that
justice that seemed to require man's destruction, now re
quires his salvation.
So the truth of God that seemed to require man's dam
nation, now requires his salvation. At the same time that
the threatening of the law stands good, there is a promise
of eternal life to many who have broken the law. They
both stand good at the same time ; and the truth of God
requires that both should be fulfilled. How much soever
they seemed to clash, yet so is the matter contrived in this
way of salvation, that both are fulfilled, and do not inter
fere one with another.
At the very time that God uttered the threatening, " In
the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die ;" and at
the time that Adam had first eaten the forbidden fruit ;
there was then an existing promise, that many thousands
of Adam's race should obtain eternal life. This promise
was made to Jesus Christ, before the world was. What a
difficulty and inconsistence did there seem to be here ?
But it was no difficulty to the wisdom of God, that the
promise and the threatening should be both fully accom-
Iilished to the glory of God s truth in each of them. Psal.
xxxv. 10. " Mercy and truth are met together, righteous
ness and peace have kissed each other."
4. Those very attributes which seemed to require man's
destruction, are more glorious in his salvation, than they
would have been in his destruction. The revenging justice
of God is a great deal more manifested in the death of
Christ, than it would have been if all mankind had been
sufferers to all eternity. If man had remained under the
guilt and imputation of sin, the justice of God would not
have had such a trial, as it had, when his own Son was
under the imputation of sin. if all mankind had stood
guilty, and justice had called for vengeance upon them,
that would not have been such a trial of the inflexibleness
and unchangeableness ofthe justice of God, as when his
own Son, who was the object of his infinite love, and in
whom he infinitely delighted, stood with the imputation of
guilt upon him.
This was the greatest trial that could be, to manifest
whether God's justice was perfect and unchangeable, or
not ; whether God was so just that he would not upon
any account abate of what justice required ; and whether
God would have any respect to persons in judgment.
So the majesty of God appears much more in the suffer
ings of Chnst than it would have done in the eternal suf
ferings of all mankind. The majesty of a prince appears
greater in the just punishment of great personages under
the guilt of treason, than of inferior persons. The suffer

ings of Christ have this advantage over the eternal suffer
ings of the wicked, for impressing upon the minds of the
spectators a sense of the dread majesty of God, and his
infinite hatred of sin ; viz. that the eternal sufferings of
the wicked never will be seen actually accomplished, and
finished ; whereas they have seen that which is equivalent
to those eternal sufferings actually fulfilled and finished in
the sufferings of Christ.
5. Such is the wisdom of this way of salvation, that the
more any of the elect have dishonoured God, the more is
God glorified in this redemption. Such wonders as these
are accomplished by the wisdom of this way of salvation.
Such things as these, if they had been proposed to any
created intelligence, would have seemed strange and un
accountable paradoxes, till the counsels of divine wisdom
concerning the matter were unfolded.
So sufficient is this way of salvation, that it is not incon
sistent with any of God s attributes to save the chief of
sinners. However great a sinner any one has been, yet
God can, if he pleases, save without any injury to the
glory of any one attribute. And not only so, but the more
sinful any one has been, the more doth God glorify him
self in his salvation. The more doth he glorify his power,
that he can redeem one in whom sin so abounds, and of
whom Satan hath such strong possession. — The greater
triumph has Christ over his grand adversary, in redeeming
and setting at liberty from his bondage those that were his
greatest vassals. The more doth the sufficiency of Christ
appear, in that it is sufficient for such vile wretches.
The more is the sovereignty and boundless extent of
the mercy of God manifested, in that it is sufficient to re
deem those that are most undeserving. Rom. v. 20.
" Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound."

SECT. VI.
How the wisdom qf God appears in the manner and cir
cumstances qf obtaining the good intended.
We now come to take notice of some wonderful circum
stances of the attainment of our good, hereby ; which
shows the great wisdom of this contrivance.
1 . So hath God contrived in this way, that a sinful crea
ture should become not guilty ; and that he who has no
righteousness of his own, should become righteous. These
things, if they had been proposed, would have appeared
contradictious to any but the divine understanding.
If it had been proposed to any created intelligence, to
find out a way in which a sinful creature should not be a
guilty creature, how impossible would it have been judged,
that there should be any way at all. It would doubtless
have been judged impossible but that he whohas commit
ted sin, must stand guilty of the sin he has committed ;
and if sin necessarily obliges to punishment, it must oblige
him who has committed it. If punishment and sin be in
separable, then that punishment and the sinner are inse
parable. If the law denounces death to the person who
is guilty of sin, and if it be impossible that the law should
not take place, then he who has committed sin must die.
Thus any created understanding would have thought.
And if it had been proposed, that there should be some
way found out, wherein man might be righteous without
fulfilling righteousness himself; so that he might reason
ably and properly be looked upon and accepted as a
righteous person, and adjudged to the reward of righteous
ness, and yet have no righteousness of his own, but the
contrary — that he should be righteous by the righteousness
of the law, by a perfect righteousness, and yet have broken
the law, and done nothing else but break it — this doubtless
would have been looked upon as impossible and contra
dictious. But yet the wisdom of God has truly accomplished
each of these things. He hath accomplished that men,
though sinners, should be without guilt, in that he hath
found out a way that the threatenings of the law should
truly and properly be fulfilled, and punishment be exe
cuted on sin, and yet not on the sinner. The sufferings of
Christ answer the demands of the law, with respect to the
sins of those who believe in him ; and justice is truly satis
fied thereby. And the law is fulfilled and answered by

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

the obedience of Christ, so that his righteousness should
properly be our righteousness. Though not performed by
us, yet it is properly and reasonably accepted for us, as
much as if we had performed it ourselves. Divine wisdom
has so contrived, that such an interchanging of sin and
righteousness should be consistent, and most agreeable
with reason, with the law, and God's holy attributes. For
Jesus Christ has so united himself to us, and us to him,
as to make himself ours, our head. The love of Christ
to the elect is so great, that God the Father looks upon it
proper and suitable to account Christ and the elect as one ;
and accordingly to account what Christ does and suffers,
as if they did and suffered it.— That love of Christ which
is so great as to render him willing to put himself in the
stead of the elect, and to bear the misery that they deserved,
does, in the Father's account, so unite Christ and the
elect, that they may be looked upon as legally one.
2. It shows wonderful wisdom that our good should be
procured by such seemingly unlikely and opposite means,
as the humiliation of the Son of God. When Christ was
about to undertake that great work of redemption, he did
not take that method that any creature- wisdom would have
thought the most proper. Creature-wisdom would have
determined that in order to his effectually and more glo
riously accomplishing such a great work, he should rather
have been exalted higher, if it had been possible, rather
than humbled so low. — Earthly kings and princes, when
they are about to engage in any great and difficult work,
will put on their strength, and will appear in all their
majesty and power, that they may be successful. — But
when Christ was about to perform the great work of re
deeming a lost world, the wisdom of God took an opposite
method, and determined that he should be humbled and
abased to. a mean state, and appear in low circumstances.
He did not deck himself with glory, but laid it aside.
He emptied himself. Phil. ii. 6, 7, 8. " Being in the form
of God — he made himself of no reputation, and took on
him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness
of men : and being found in fashion as a man, he hum
bled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the
death ofthe cross." — Creature-wisdom would have thought
that Christ, in order to perform this great work, should deck
himself with all his strength ; but divine wisdom deter
mined, that he should be made weak, or put on the infir
mities of human nature.
And why did divine wisdom determine that he should
become thus weak ? It was that he might be subject to
want, and to suffering, and to the power and malice of his
enemies. But then what advantage could it be to him in
this work, to be subject to the power and malice of his
enemies ? It was the very design on which he came into
the world, to overcome his enemies. Who would have
thought that this was the way to overthrow them, that he
should become weak and feeble, and for that very end that
he might be subject to their power and malice. But this
is the very means by which God determined, that Christ
should prevail against his enemies, even that he should be
subject to their power, that they might prevail against him,
so as to put him to disgrace, and pain, and death.
What other but divine wisdom could ever have deter
mined, that this was the way to be taken in order to being
successful in the work of our redemption. This would
have appeared to creature-wisdom the most direct course
to be frustrated that could be devised. But it was indeed
the way to glorious success, and the only way. " The
foolishness of God is wiser than men." 1 Cor. i. 25.
God has brought strength out of weakness, glory out of
ignominy and reproach. Christ's shame and reproach are
the only means by which a way is made to our eternal
honour. The wisdom of God hath made Christ's humiliation
the means of our exaltation ; his coming down from heaven
is that which brings us to heaven. The wisdom of God
hath made life the fruit of death. The death of Christ
was the only means by which we could have eternal life.
The death of a person who was God, was the only way by
which we could come to have life in God. — Here favour
is made to arise out of wrath ; our acceptance into God's
favour out of God's wrath upon his own Son: A blessing
rises out of a curse ; our everlasting blessedness, from

Christ being made a curse for us. Our righteousness is
made to rise out of Christ's imputed guilt. He was made
sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God.
2 Cor. v. 21. By such wonderful means hath the wisdom
of God procured our salvation.
3. Our sin and misery, by this contrivance, are made an
occasion of our greater blessedness. This is a very won
derful thing. It would have been a very wonderful thing
if we had been merely restored from sin and misery, to be
as we were before ; but it was a much more wonderful
thing that we should be brought to a higher blessedness
than ever ; and that our sin and misery should be the
occasion of it, and should make way for it.
(1.) It was wonderful that sin should be made the occa
sion of our greater blessedness ; for sin deserves misery.
By our sin we had deserved to be everlastingly miserable;
but this is so turned by divine wisdom, that it is made an
occasion of our being more happy. — It was a strange thing
that sin should be the occasion of any thing else but
misery : but divine wisdom has found out a way whereby
the sinner might not only escape being miserable, but that
he,should be happier than before he sinned ; yea, than he
would have been if he had never sinned at all. And this
sin and unworthiness of his, are the occasion of this greater
blessedness. (2.) It was a wonderful thing that man's own miseiy
should be an occasion of his greater happiness. For
happiness and misery are contraries ; and man's misery
was very great. He was under the wrath and curse of
God, and condemned to everlasting burnings. — But the
sin and misery of man, by this contrivance, are made an
occasion of his being more happy, not only than he was
before the fell, but than he would have been if he never
had fallen.
Our first parents, if they had stood and persevered in
perfect obedience, till God had given them the fruit of the
tree of life as a seal of their reward, would probably have
been advanced to higher happiness : for they before were
but in a state of probation for their reward. And it is not
to be supposed bu,t that their happiness was to have been
greater after they had persisted in obedience, and had
actually received the reward, than it was while they were
in a state of trial for it. But by the redemption of Christ,
the sin and misery of the elect are made an occasion of
their being brought to a higher happiness than mankind
would have had if they had persisted in obedience till
they had received the reward. — For,
1st, Man is hereby brought to a greater and nearer union
with God. If man had never fallen, God would have re
mained man's friend ; he would have enjoyed God's
favour, and so would have been the object of Christ's
favour, as he would have had the favour of all the persons
of the Trinity. — But now Christ becoming our surety and
Saviour, and having taken on him our nature, occasions
between Christ and us an union of a quite different kind,
and a nearer relation than otherwise would have been.
The fall is the occasion of Christ's becoming our head,
and the church his body. And believers are become his
brethren, and spouse, in a manner that otherwise would
not have been. And by our union with Christ we have a
greater union with God the Father. We are sons by virtue
of our union with the natural Son of God. Gal. iv. 4—6.
" When the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his
Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem
them that were under the law, that we might receive the
adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God hath
sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying,
Abba, Father." And therefore Christ" has taught us, in all
our addresses to God, to call him our Father, in like manner
as he calls him Father, John xx. 17. " Go tell my brethren,
behold I ascend to my Father, and your Father."
This is one of the wonderful things brought about by
the work of redemption, that thereby our separation from
God, is made an occasion of a greater union than was be
fore, or otherwise would have been. — When we fell, there
was a dreadful separation made betwixt God and us, but
this is made an occasion of a greater union. John xvii. 20—
23. " Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which
shall believe on me through their word ; that they all may
be one, as thou Father art in me, and I in thee ; that they

Sect. VI.

THE MANNER OF OBTAINING SALVATION.

also may be one in us : that the world may believe that
thou hast sent me. And the glory which thou gavest me
I have given them ; that they may be one, even as we are
one : I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made
perfect in one."
idly, Man now has greater manifestations of the glory
and love of God, than otherwise he would have bad. In
the manifestations of these two things, man's happiness
principally consists. Now, man by the work of redemp
tion, has greater manifestation of both, than otherwise he
would have had. We have already spoken particularly of
the glory of God, and what advantages even the angels
have by the discoveries of it in this work ; but if they have
such advantages, much more will man who is far more
directly concerned in this affair than they. — Here are im
mediately greater displays of the love of God, than man
had before he fell ; or, as we may well suppose, than he
would have had, if he had never fallen. God now mani
fests his love to his people, by sending his Son into the
world, to die for them. There never would have been any
such testimony of the love of God, if man had not fallen.
Christ manifests his love, by coming into the world, and
laying down his life. This is the greatest testimony of divine
love that can be conceived. Now surely the greater dis
coveries God's people have of his love to them, tlie more
occasion will they have to rejoice in that love. Here will
be a delightful theme for the saints to contemplate to all
eternity, which they never could have had, if man never
had fallen, viz. the dying love of Christ. They will have
occasion now to sing that song for ever, Rev. i. 5, 6.
" Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in
his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto
God and his Father ; to whom be glory and dominion for
ever. Amen."
3dly, Man now has greater motives offered him to love
God than otherwise he ever would have had. Man's hap
piness consists in mutual love between God and man; in
seeing God's love to him, and in reciprocally loving God.
And the more he sees of God's love to him, and the more
he loves God, the more happy must he be. His love to
God is as necessary in order to his happiness, as the seeing
of God's love to him ; for he can have no joy in beholding
God's love to him, any otherwise than as he loves God.
—This makes the saints prize God's love to them ; for they
love him. If they did not love God, to see his love to.
them would not make them happy. But the more any
person loves another, the more will he be delighted in the
manifestations of that other's love. — There is provision
therefore made for both in the work of redemption. There
are greater manifestations of the love of God to us, than
there would have been if man had not fallen ; and also there
are greater motives to love him than otherwise there would
have been. There are greater obligations to love him, for
God has done more for us to win our love. Christ hath
died for us.
Again, man is now brought to a more universal and im
mediate and sensible dependence on God, than otherwise he
would have been. All his happiness is now qf 'him, through
him,» him. If man had not fallen, he would have had all
his happiness of God by his own righteousness; but now
it is by the righteousness of Christ. He would have had
all his holiness of God, but not so sensibly; because then
he would have been holy from the beginning, as soon as he
received his being ; but now, he is first sinful and univer
sally corrupt, and afterwards is made holy. If man had
held his integrity misery would have been a stranger to him;
and therefore happiness would not have been so sensible a
derivation from God, as it is now, when man looks to God
from the deeps of distress, cries repeatedly to him, and
waits upon him. He is convinced by abundant experi
ence, that he has no place of resort but God, who is gra
ciously pleased, in consequence of man's earnest and per
severing suit, to appear to his relief, to take him out of the
miry clay and horrible pit, set him upon a rock, establish
his goings, and put a new song into his mouth. — By man's
having thus a more immediate, universal, and sensible de
pendence, God doth more entirely secure man's undivided
respect. There is a greater motive for man to make God
his all in all, — to love him and rejoice in him as his only
portion.

151
Athly, By the contrivance for our salvation, man's sin and
misery are but an occasion of his being brought to a more
full and free converse with and enjoyment of God than
otherwise would have been. For as we have observed al
ready, the union is greater; and the greater the union, the
more full the 'communion, and intimate the intercourse 
Christ is come down to man in his own nature ; and here
by he may converse with Christ more intimately, than the
infinite distance of the divine nature would allow. This
advantage is more than what the angels have. For Christ
is not only in a created nature, but he is in man's c/wn na
ture. — We have also advantages for a more full enjoyment
of God. By Christ's incarnation, the saints may see God
with their bodily eyes, as well as by an intellectual view.
The saints, after the day of judgment, will consist of both
body and soul ; they will have outward as well as spiritual
sight. It is now ordered by divine wisdom, that God him
self, or a divine person, should be the principal entertain
ment of both these kinds of sight, spiritual and corporal :
and the saints in heaven shall not only have an intellectual
sight of God, but they shall see a divine person as they
see one another; not only spiritually, but outwardly. — The
body of Jesus Christ will appear with that transcendent
visible majesty and beauty, which is exceedingly expres
sive of the divine majesty, beauty, and glory. The body of
Christ shall appear with the glory of God upon it, as
Christ tells us, Matt. xvi. 27. " The Son of man shall come
in the glory of his Father.'" Thus to see God will be a
great happiness to the saints. Job comforted himself that
he should see God with his bodily eyes, Job xix. 26.
" And though after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet
in my flesh shall I see God."
5thly, Man's sin and misery is made an occasion of his
greater happiness, as he has now a greater relish of happi
ness, by reason of his knowledge of both. In order to
happiness, there must be two things, viz. union to a proper
object — and a relish of the object. Man's misery is made
an occasion of increasing both these by the work of re
demption. We have shown already, that the union is in
creased ; and so is the relish too, by the knowledge man
now has of evil. These contraries, good and evil, heighten
the sense of one another. The forbidden tree was called
the tree of knowledge of good and evil ; of evil, because by
it we came to the experience of evil ; of good, because we
should never have known so well what good was, if it had
not been for that tree. We are taught the value of good,
by our knowledge of its contrary, evil. This teaches us to
prize good, and makes us the more to relish and rejoice in
it. The saints know something what a state of sin and
alienation from God is. They know something what the
anger of God is, and what it is to be in danger of hell.
And this makes them the more exceedingly to rejoice in
the favour and in the enjoyment of God.
Take two persons ; one who never knew what evil was,
but was happy from the first moment of his being, having
the favour of God, and numerous tokens of it ; another who
is in a very doleful and undone condition. Let there be
bestowed upon these two persons the same blessings, [sub
jectively,] the same good things ; and let them be objective
ly in the same glorious circumstances, — and which will
rejoice most .' Doubtless he lhat was brought to this hap
piness out of a miserable and doleful state. So the saints
in heaven will for ever the more rejoice in God, and in the
enjoyment of his love, for their being brought to it out of a
most lamentable state and condition.

SECT. VII.
Some wonderful circumstances qf the overthrow qf Satan.
The wisdom of God greatly and remarkably appears in
so exceedingly baffling and confounding all the subtlety of
the old serpent. Power never appears so conspicuous as
when opposed and conquering opposition. The same may
be said of wisdom ; it never appears so brightly, and with
such advantage, as when opposed by the subtlety of some
very crafty enemy; and in baffling and confounding that
subtlety. — The devil is exceeding subtle. The subtlety of
the serpent is emblematical of his, Gen. iii. 1. He was
once one of the brightest intelligences of heaven, and one of

152
the brightest, if not the very brightest, of all. And all the
devils were once morning stars, of a glorious brightness of
understanding. They still have the same faculties, though
they ceased to be influenced and guided by the Holy Spirit
of God ; and so their heavenly wisdom is turned into hell
ish craft and subtlety. — God in the work of redemption hath
wondrously baffled the utmost craft of the devils, and
though they are all combined to frustrate God's designs
of glory to himself, and goodness to men. — The wisdom of
God appears very glorious herein. For,
1. Consider the weak and seemingly despicable means
and weapons that God employs to overthrow Satan. Christ
poured the greater contempt upon Satan in the victory that
he obtained over him, by reason of the means of his pre
paring himself fer it, and the weapons he hath used. Christ
chooses to encounter Satan in the human nature, in a poor,
frail, afflicted state. He did as David did. David when
going against the Philistine refused Saul's armour, a hel
met of brass, a coat of mail, and his sword. No, he puts
them all off. Goliah comes mightily armed against David,
with a helmet of brass upon his head, a coat of mail weigh
ing five thousand shekels of brass, greaves of brass upon
his legs, and a target of brass between his shoulders ; a
spear, whose staff was like a weaver's beam; and the
spear's head weighing six hundred shekels of iron. And
besides all this, he had one bearing a shield before him.
But David takes nothing but a staff in his hand, and a
shepherd's bag and a sling ; and he goes against the Philis
tine. So the weapons that Christ made use of were his
poverty, afflictions and reproaches, sufferings and death.
His principal weapon was his cross: the instrument of his
own reproachful death. These were seemingly weak and
despicable instruments, to wield against such a giant as
Satan. And doubtless the devil disdained them as much
as Goliah did David's staves and sling. But with such
weapons as these has Christ in a human, weak, mortal na
ture overthrown and baffled all the craft of hell.
Such disgrace and contempt has Christ poured upon
Satan. David had a more glorious victory over Goliah
for his conquering him with such mean instruments ; and
Samson over the Philistines, for killing so many of them
with such a despicable weapon as the jaw-bone of an ass.
It is spoken of in Scripture as a glorious triumph of Christ
over the devil, that he should overcome him by such a
despicable weapon as his cross. Col. ii. 14, 15. " Blotting
out the hand-writing of ordinances that was against us,
which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nail
ing it to his cross : and having spoiled principalities and
powers, he made a show of them openly, triumphing over
them in it." — God shows his great and infinite wisdom in
taking this method, to confound the wisdom and subtlety of
his enemies. He hereby shows how easily he can do it,
and that he is infinitely wiser than they. 1 Cor. i. 27 — 29.
" God hath chosen the foolish things of the world, to con
found the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of
the world, to confound the things that are mighty : and the
base things of the world, and things that are despised, hath
God chosen ; yea, and things that are not, to bring to
nought the things that are."
2. God has thereby confounded Satan with his own
weapons. It is so contrived in the work of redemption,
that our grand enemy should be made a means of his own
confusion ; and that, by those very things whereby he en
deavours to rob God of his glory, and to destroy mankind,
he is made an instrument of frustrating his own designs.
His most subtle and powerful endeavours for accomplish
ing his designs are made a means of confounding them, and
of promoting the contrary. Of this, I will mention but
two instances. First, His procuring man's fall is made an
occasion of the contrary to what he designed. Indeed he
has hereby procured the ruin of multitudes of mankind,
which he aimed at. But in this he does not frustrate
God's design from all eternity to glorify himself; and the
misery of multitudes of mankind will prove no content to
him, but will enhance his own misery.
What Satan did in tempting man to fall, is made an oc
casion of the contrary to what he intended, in that it gave
occasion for God to glorify himself the more ; and giveth
occasion for the elect being brought to higher happiness.

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

The happy state of man was envied by Satan. That man
who was of earthly original should be advanced to such
honours, when he who was originally of a so much more
noble nature should be cast down to such disgrace, his
pride could not bear. How then would Satan triumph,
when he had brought him down !
The devil tempted our first parents with this, that if they
would eat of the forbidden fruit, they should be as gods.—
It was a lie in Satan's mouth ; for he aimed at nothing else
but to fool man out of his happiness, and make him his
own slave and vassal, with a blinded expectation of being
like a god. — But little did Satan think that God would
turn it so, as to make man's fall an occasion of God's be
coming man ; and so an occasion of our nature being ad
vanced to a state of closer union to God.
By this means it comes to pass, that one in man's nature
now sits at the right hand of God, invested with divine
power and glory, and reigns over heaven and earth with a
God-like power and dominion. Thus is Satan disappointed
in his subtlety. As he intended that saying, Ye shall beas
gods, it was a lie, to decoy and befool man. Little did he
think, that it would be in such manner verified, by the in
carnation of the Son of God. And this is the occasion also
of all the elect being united to this divine person, so that
they become one with Christ. Believers are as members
and parts of Christ. Yea, the church is called Christ.
Little did Satan think, that his telling that lie to our first
parents, " Ye shall be as gods," would be the occasion of
their being members of Christ the Son of God.
Again, Satan is made a means of his own confusion in
this : — It was Satan's design, in tempting man to sin, to
make man his captive and slave forever; lohave plagued,
and triumphed over him. And this very thing is a means
to bring it about, that man instead of being his vassal
should be his judge. The elect, instead of being his cap
tives, to be for ever tormented and triumphed over by him,
shall sit as judges to sentence him to everlasting torment.
It has been the means, that one in man's nature, should be
his supreme Judge. It was man's nature that Satan so
envied, and sought to make a prey of. But Jesus Christ
at the last day shall come in man's nature ; and the devils
shall be all brought to stand trembling at his bar : and he
shall judge, and condemn them, and execute the wrath of
God upon them. And not only shall Christ in the hu-
^nan nature judge the devils, but all the saints shall judge
them with Christ as assessors with him in judgment.
1 Cor. vi. 3. " Know ye not that we shall judge angels ?"
Secondly, In another instance Satan is made a means of
his own confusion ; that is, in his procuring the death of
Christ. Satan set himself to oppose Christ as soon as he
appeared. — He sought, by all means, to procure his ruin.
He set the Jews against him. He filled the minds of the
scribes and Pharisees with the most bitter persecuting
malice against Christ. He sought by all means to pro
cure his death ; and that he might be put to the most igno
minious death. We read " lhat Satan entered into Judas,
and tempted him to betray him." Luke xxii. 3. And
Christ speaks of his sufferings as being the effects of the
power of darkness, Luke xxii. 53. " When I was daily
with you in the temple, ye stretched forth no hands against
me : but this is your hour and the power of darkness." —
But Satan hereby overthrows his own kingdom. Christ
came into the world to destroy the works of the devil.
And this was the very thing that did it, viz. the blood and
death of Christ. The cross was the devil's own weapon ;
and with this weapon he was overthrown : as David cut off
Goliah's head with his own sword.
Christ thus making Satan a means of his own con
fusion was typified of old by Samson's getting honey out
of the carcass ofthe lion. There is more implied in Sam
son's riddle, " Out of the eater came forth meat, and out
of the strong came forth sweetness," than ever the Phi
listines explained. It was verified by Christ in a far
more glorious manner. God's enemies and ours are taken
in the pit which they themselves have digged : and their
own soul is taken in the net which they have laid. Thus
we have shown, in some measure, the wisdom of this
way of salvation by Jesus Christ.

Sect. VIII.

SUPERIORITY OF THIS WISDOM TO THAT OF ANGELS.

153

SECT. VIII.

The superiority qf this wisdom to that qf the angels.
The wisdom of this contrivance appears to have been
above the wisdom of the angels by the following things.
1. It appears that the angels did not fully comprehend
the contrivance, till they saw it accomplished. They knew
that man was to be redeemed, long before Christ came into
the world : but yet they did not fully comprehend it until
they saw it. This is evident by the expression in the text.
That now might he known unto the principalities — the ma
nifold wisdom qf God. i. e. Now the work is actually ac
complished by Jesus Christ. Which implies that it
was now new to them  If they understood no more of
it now, than they had all along, the apostle would never
have expressed himself so; for he is speaking of it as a
mystery, in a measure kept hid until now.
Now it is to be considered, that the angels had four
thousand years to contemplate this affair; and they did not
want inclination and desire to understand and look into it,
as the Scripture teaches us. They had also a great deal to
put them upon an attentive contemplation of it. For
when it was made known that God had such a design, it
must appear a new and wonderful thing to them. They
had seen their fellow-angels destroyed without mercy ;
and this redeeming of the fallen sinful creature, was quite
a new thing. It must needs be astonishing to them, when
God had revealed this design of mercy to them presently
after the fall ; and had given an intimation of it, in say
ing, " The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's
head." They knew that God had such a design; for they
were, from the beginning, ministering spirits, sent forth to
minister to those that were the heirs of salvation. — They
were present at the institution of the typical dispensation,
that was so full of shadows of gospel-truth. Psal. lxix. 17.
The angels contemplating the contrivance of our re
demption was typified bv the posture of the cherubims
over the mercy-seat, which was the lid of the ark. These
emblems were made bending down towards the ark and
mercy-seat. — -This is what the apostle Peter is thought to
have some reference to, 1 Peter i. 12. Yet the angels,
though for four thousand years they had been studying
this contrivance, did not fully comprehend it till they saw
it accomplished. This shows that the wisdom of it was
far above theirs ; for if thev could not fully comprehend it
after it had been revealed that there was such a design —
and after much of it had already been made known in
the Old Testament — how much less could they hafte found
it out of themselves.
Consider for what end this wisdom of God was made
known unto the angels, viz. that they might admire and
prize it. It was made known to them, that they might
see how manifold, how great and glorious, it is ; that they
might see the unspeakable " depths of the riches of the
wisdom and knowledge of God, as the apostle expresses
it, Rom. xi. 33.  It was manifested to them that they
might see the glory of God in it, and how great and won
derful the mystery was. 1 Tim. iii. 16. " Great is the
mystery of godliness ; God was manifest in the flesh, jus
tified in the spirit, seen of angels." Now if the wisdom
of it were not far above their own understandings, this
would not be shown them for the express purpose that
they might admire and praise God for it.
3. It appears to be above the wisdom of the angels be
cause they are still contemplating it ; and endeavouring to
see more and more of it. Indeed there is room for their
faculties to employ themselves to all eternity. It is evi
dent from 1 Pet. i. 12. that they are still employing them
selves in endeavouring to see more and more of God's
wisdom appearing in the work of redemption, " Searching
what, or what manner of time the Spirit of Christ which
was in them did signify, when it testified beforehand of
the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow.
Unto whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but
unto us they did minister the things, which are now re
ported unto you by them that have preached the gospel
unto you, with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven ;
which things the angels desire to look into." They still
desire to look into it, after they have seen it accomplish

ed. They do not so perfectly comprehend all the wisdom
that is to be seen in it ; but they are contemplating, look
ing into it, that they may see more and more ; but there
will still be room enough in this work to employ the
angelical understandings. SECT. IX.
The subject improved.
I. Hence we may learn the blindness of the world,
that the wisdom appearing in the work of redemption is
no more admired in it. God has revealed this his glo
rious design and contrivance to the world ; sends forth his
gospel, and causes it to be preached abroad, in order to
declare to the world that his infinite wisdom has been en
gaged for man's salvation. But how little is it regarded !
There are some who have their eyes opened to behold the
wondrous things of the gospel, who see the glory of God
in, and admire the wisdom of it. But the greater part are
wholly blind to it. They see nothing in all this that is
any way glorious and wonderful. Though the angels ac
count it worthy of their most engaged and deep contem
plation ; yet the greater part of men take little notice of
it. It is all a dull story and dead letter to many of them.
They cannot see any thing in it above the wisdom of men.
Yea, the gospel to many seems foolishness.
Though the light that shines in the world be so exceed
ing glorious, yet how few are there that do see it. The
glorv of God's wisdom in this work is surpassing the
brightness of the sun : but so blind is the world lhat it
sees nothing. It does not know that the Sun of righteous
ness shines. Thus it has been in all ages, and wherever
the gospel has been preached, ministers of the word of
God in all ages have had occasion to say, V\ ho hath be
lieved our report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord
revealed ? Thus the prophets were sent to many with
that errand, Isa. vi. 9, 10. " Go and tell this people, Hear
ye indeed, but understand not; and see ye indeed, but
perceive not. Make the heart of this people fat, and their
ears heavy, and shut their eyes ; lest they should see with
their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with
their heart, and convert, and be healed."
When Christ that glorious prophet came, and more
fully revealed the counsels of God concerning our re
demption, how many were then blind ! how much did
Christ complain of them ! How blind were the scribes
and Pharisees, the most noted sect of men among the
Jews for wisdom ; they beheld no glory in that gospel
which Christ preached unto them ; which gave him occa
sion to call them fools and blind, Matt, xxiii. 17. — So it
was again in the apostles' times. In all places where they
preached, some believed, and some believed not, Acts
xxviii. 24. " As many as were ordained to eternal life be
lieved," chap. xiii. 48. " The election obtained, but the
rest were blinded," Rom. xi. 7. And so it is still in
those places where the gospel is preached. There are a
few who see the glory of the gospel. God has a small
number whose eyes he opens, who are called out of dark
ness into marvellous light, and who have an understand
ing to see the wisdom and fitness of the way of life. But
how many are there who sit under the preaching of the
gospel all their days, yet never see any divine wisdom or
glory in it ! To their dying day they are unaffected with
it. When they hear it, they see nothing to attract their
attention, much less excite any admiration. To preach
the gospel to them will serve very well to lull them
asleep : but produces very little other effect upon them.
This shows the exceeding wickedness of the heart of man.
How affecting the thought, that infinite wisdom should
be set on work, so as to surprise the angels, and to enter
tain thein from age to age ; — and that to men, though so
plainly set before them, it should appear foolishness ! 1
Cor. i. 18. "The preaching of the cross is to them that
perish foolishness."
II. This is a great confirmation of the truth ofthe gospel.
The gospel stands in no need of external evidences of its
truth and divinity. It carries its own light and evidence
with it. — There is that in its nature that sufficiently dis
tinguishes it, to those who are spiritually enlightened, from
all the effects of human invention. There are evident

154

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

appearances of the divine perfections ; the stamp of divine
glory, of which this of the divine wisdom is not the least
part. There is as much in the gospel to show that it is no work
of men, as there is in the sun in the firmament. As per
sons of mature reason who look upon the sun, and con
sider the nature of it, its wonderful height, its course, its
brightness and heat, may know that it is no work of man ;
so, if the gospel be duly considered, if the true nature of
it be seen, it may be known that it is no work of man, and
that it must be from God. And if the wisdom appearing
in the gospel be duly considered, it will be seen as much
to excel all human wisdom, as the sun's light excels the
light of fires of our own kindling. — The contrivance of our
salvation is of such a nature that no one can rationally
conclude that man had any hand in it. The nature of the
contrivance is such, so out of the way of all human
thoughts, so different from all human inventions ; so much
more sublime, excellent, and worthy, that it does not savour
at all of the craft or subtlety of man : it savours of God only.
If any are ready to think man might have found out
such a way of salvation for sinners — so honourable to God,
to his holiness and authority — they do not well consider
the scantiness of human understanding. Mankind were of
a poor capacity for any such undertaking ; for, till the
gospel enlightened the world, they had but miserable
notions of what was honourable to God. They could have
but poor notions of what way would be suitable to the
divine perfections ; for they were woefully in the dark
about these divine perfections themselves, till the gospel
came abroad in the world. They had strange notions
about a Deity. Most of them thought there were many
gods. " They changed the glory of the incorruptible God
into an image like to corruptible man, and to birds and
four-footed beasts and creeping things," Rom. i. 23. They
attributed vices to God. Even the philosophers, their
wisest men, entertained but imperfect notions of the Su
preme Being. How then should men find out a way so
glorious and honourable to God, and agreeable to his per
fections, who had not wisdom enough to get any tolerable
notions of God, till the gospel was revealed to them. They
groped in the dark. Their notions showed the infinite
insufficiency of man's blind understanding for any such
undertaking, as the contriving of a way of salvation every
way honourable to God, and suitable to the needs of a
fallen creature.
But since the gospel has told what God's counsels are,
and how he has contrived a way for our salvation, men are
ready to despise it, and foolishly to exalt their own under
standing ; and to imagine they could have found out as
good a way themselves. W'hen, alas ! men, of them
selves, had no notion of what was honourable to God, and
suitable for a Divine Being. — They did not so much as
think of the necessitv of God's law being answered, and
justice satisfied. Arid if they had, how dreadfully would
they have been puzzled to have found out the way how !
Who would have thought of a trinity of persons in the
Godhead ; and that one should sustain the rights of the
Godhead; and another should be the Mediator; and
another should make application of redemption? Who
would have thought of such a thing as three distinct per
sons, and yet but one God ? all the same Being, and yet
three persons ! Who would have thought of this, in order
to have found out a way for satisfying justice? Who
would have thought of a way for answering the law that
threatened eternal death, without the sinner's suffering
eternal death ? And who would have thought of any such
thing as a divine person suffering the wrath qf'God? And
if they had, who would have contrived a way how he
should suffer, since the divine nature cannot suffer ?
Who would have thought of any such thing as God
becoming man ; two natures and but one person ? These
things are exceedingly out of the way of human thought
and contrivance. It is most unreasonable to think that
the world, who, till the gospel enlightened them, were so
blind about the nature of God and divine things, should
contrive such a way that should prove thus to answer all
'ends ; every way to suit what the case required ; most
glorious to God, and answerable to all man's necessities.
Evpry thing is so fully provided for, and no absurdity to

be found in the whole affair, but all speaking forth the
most perfect wisdom. That there should be no infringe
ment upon holiness or justice ; nothing dishonourable to
the majesty of God ; no encouragement to sin, all pos
sible motives to holiness ; all manner of happiness pro
vided ; and Satan so confounded and entirely overthrown ;
how truly wonderful !
And if we suppose that all this notwithstanding was the
invention of men, whose invention should it be ? Who
should be pitched upon as the most likely to invent it ? It
was not the invention of the Jews ; for they were the most
bitter enemies to it. The wise men among them, when they
first heard of it, conceived malice against it, and perse
cuted all that held this doctrine. It was not the invention
of the heathen ; for they knew nothing about it, till the
apostles preached it to them ; and it appeared a very
foolish doctrine to the wise men among them. The doc
trine of Christ crucified was not only to the Jews a stum
bling-block, but also to the Greeks foolishness, 1 Cor. i.
23. Besides, it was contrary to all their notions about
a Deity, and they knew nothing about the fall of man, and
the like, till the gospel revealed it to them.
It was not the invention of the apostles ; for the apostles,
of themselves, were no way capable of any such learned
contrivance. They were poor fishermen and publicans,
an obscure and illiterate sort of men, till they were extra
ordinarily taught. They were all surprised when they first
heard of it. When they heard that Christ must die for
sinners, they were offended at it ; and it was a long while
before they were brought fully to receive it.
There is but one way left ; and that is, to suppose, that
Christ was a mere man, a very subtle crafty man, and
that he invented it all : but this is as unreasonable as the
rest ; for it would have been all against himself, to invent
a way of salvation by his own crucifixion, a most torment
ing and ignominious death.
III. How great a sin they are guilty of who despise and
reject this way of salvation ! When God has manifested
such unsearchable riches of wisdom ; when all the per
sons ofthe Trinity have as it were held a consultation from
all eternity in providing a way of salvation for us sinful
miserable worms ; — a way that should be sufficient and
every way suitable for us ; — a way that should be in all
things complete, whereby we might have not only full par
don of all our sins, and deliverance from hell ; but also full
blessedness in heaven for ever : — how must God needs be
provoked, when, after all, men reject this way of salvation !
When salvation comes to be preached, and is offered to
them in this way ; when they are invited to accept of its
benefits, and yet they despise and refuse it; they thus
practically deny it to be a wise way, and call this wisdom
of God foolishness. — How provoking it must be, when
such a poor creature as man shall rise up, and find fault
with that wisdom which is so far above the wisdom of
angels ! This is one thing wherein consists the heinous
ness of the sin of unbelief, that it implies a rejecting and
despising of divine wisdom in the way of salvation by
Jesus Christ. — Unbelief finds fault with the wisdom of
God in the choice of the person, for performing this work.
It dislikes the person of Christ. It sees no form nor come
liness in him, nor beauty wherefore it should desire him.
That person whom the wisdom of God looked upon as
the fittest person of any, the only fit person, is despised
and rejected by unbelief.— Men, through unbelief, find
fault with the salvation itself that Christ has purchased ;
they do not like to be saved as Christ would save. They
do not like to be made holy, and to have such a happiness
as is to be had in God for a portion.
It may not be amiss here to mention two or three ways
whereby persons are guilty of a provoking contempt ofthe
wisdom of God in the way of salvation.
1 . They are guilty of a provoking contempt, who live in
a careless neglect of their salvation ; they who are secure in
their sins, and are not much concerned about either salva
tion or damnation. This is practically charging God with
folly. — Its language is, that all is in vain, and to no pur
pose; that God hath contrived and consulted for our sal
vation, when there was no need of it. They are well
enough as they are. They do not see anv great necessity
of a Saviour.- They like that state they are in, and do not

Sect. X.

TOE MISERY OF UNBELIEVERS.

1 .55

much desire to be delivered out of it. — They do not thank
him for all his consultation and contrivance, and think he
might have spared his cost. God has greatly minded that,
which they do not think worth minding ; and has con
trived abundantly for that which they do not trouble their
heads about.
2. They are guilty of a provoking contempt of the wis
dom of this way of salvation, who go about to contrive
ways of their own. They who are not content with salva
tion by the righteousness of Christ, which God has pro
vided, are for contriving some way of being saved by their
own righteousness. — These find fault with the wisdom of
God's way, and set up their own wisdom in opposition lo
it. How greatly must God be provoked by such conduct!
3. Those that entertain discouraged and despairing op-
prehensions about their salvation, cast contempt on the
wisdom of God. They think that because they have been
such great sinners, God will not be willing to pardon
them ; Christ will not be willing to accept of them. They
fear that Christ, in the invitations ofthe gospel, does not
mean such wicked creatures as they are ; that because
they have committed so much sin, they have sinned be
yond the reach of mercy. They think it is in vain for
them to seek for salvation. — These cast contempt on the
wisdom of God in the way of salvation, as though it were
not all-sufficient : — as though the wisdom of God had not
found out a way that was sufficient for the salvation of
great sinners.
SECT. X.
Tlie misery qf unbelievers.
Unbelievers have no portion in this matter. There
is a most glorious way of salvation, but you, who are un
believers, have no interest in it. The wisdom of God
hath been gloriously employed for the deliverance of men
from a miserable, doleful state; but you are never the
better for it, because you reject it. If you continue in that
state, this wisdom will do you no good.
Chirst is a glorious person ; every way fit to be a Sa
viour of sinners ; a person who has power sufficient, wis
dom sufficient, merit sufficient, and love sufficient for per
fecting this work. And he is the only fit person ; but you
have no right in him ; you can lay claim to no benefit by
his power, wisdom, love, or merits. — This wisdom of God
hath found out a way whereby this Saviour might satisfy
justice, and fulfil the law for us ; away whereby he might
be capable of suffering for us : but you have no lot in the
incarnation, death, and sufferings of Jesus Christ.
The wisdom of God hath contrived a way of salvation
that there should be procured for us perfect and everlast
ing happiness. Here is that happiness procured which is
most suitable to our nature, and answerable to the salva
tion of our souls. Here is a most glorious portion, viz.
The Divine Being himself, with his glorious perfections.
Here it is purchased, that vve should see God face to face ;
— that we should converse and dwell with God in his
own glorious habitation ; — that we should be the children
of God, and be conformed to him. — Here are the highest
honours, the most abundant riches, the most substantial
satisfying pleasures for evermore. — Here we have prepared
all needed good, both for the souls and bodies of sinners :
all needed earthly good things, while here ; and glory, for
both body and soul hereafter, for ever.
But you are never the better for all this. You have no
lot nor portion in any of it. Notwithstanding all this rich
provision, you remain in the same miserable state and con
dition, in which you came into the world. Though the
provision of the gospel be so full, yet your poor soul re
mains in a famishing, perishing state. You remain dead
in trespasses and sins ; under the dominion of Satan ; in a
condemned state, having the wrath of God abiding on you,
and being daily exposed to the dreadful effects of it in
hell. Notwithstanding all this provision, you remain
wretched and miserable, poor and blind and naked. O
that you might turn to God through Jesus Christ, be
numbered among his disciples and faithful followers, and
so be entitled to their privileges ! They have an interest
in this glorious Saviour, and are entitled to all the ineffa
ble blessedness of his kingdom, so far as their capacities

will admit : but you remain without Christ, being aliens
from the commonwealth of Israel, strangers to the covenant
of promise, having no well-grounded hope, and without
God in the world. — Further consider a few things.
First, It argues the great misery of sinners, that the
wisdom of God should be exercised to such a degree in
order to find out a way to deliver them from it. Their
case surely was most deplorable, since it required infinite
wisdom to find out a way for their deliverance. The
wisdom of angels was not sufficient: nothing but divine
wisdom could reach and remedy their case. And all the
persons ofthe Trinity did enter into a consultation about
it. If man's misery were not very great, divine wisdom
would not have been exercised for his deliverance from it.
God would not contrive and do things so wonderful in a
trivial affair. If the salvation of a sinner were not a great
salvation, from an exceeding great misery, it is not to be
supposed, that God's wisdom should be more signalized
in this affair than in any other whatever.
But so it is ; this contrivance seems to be spoken of in
Scripture as the master-piece of divine wisdom. This
work of redemption is represented as most wonderful, and
spoken of in Scripture in the most exalted manner of any
work of God. — Doubtless therefore salvation is a great
thing ; and consequently the misery that sinners are saved
from, is a great and unspeakable misery. Now this is the
misery that you are all in, who remain in a natural con
dition. This is the condemnation you lie under. This is
the wrath of God that abides upon you. The wisdom of
God knew it to be a very doleful thing for a person to be
in a natural state, and therefore did so exercise itself to
deliver miserable sinners out of it. But this is the state
that many among us do yet remain in.
Secondly. Consider, that if you continue in the state
you are in, you will be so far from being the better for this
contrivance, that you will be much more miserable for it.
The justice and wisdom of the way of salvation will be
your condemnation. " This is the condemnation, that
light is come into the world, and men loved darkness
rather than light." John iii. 19. If you continue in the
state that you are now in, it would have been better for
you, if Christ had never died for sinners ; if God had left
all mankind to perish, as he did the fallen angels. Your
punishment then would have been light in comparison of
what it will be now. You will have greater sins by far to
answer for ; and all your sins will be abundantly the
more aggravated.
Since I have been upon this subject, I have observed,
that the work of redemption is an occasion of the elect
being brought to greater happiness than man could have
had, if he had not fallen. And it is also true as to repro
bates, that it will be an occasion of their having greater
misery than thev would have had, if there had been no
redemption. 2 Cor. ii. 15. " For we are unto God a sweet
savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that
perish. To the one we are a savour of death unto death ;
and to the other we are a savour of life unto life." If you
perish at last, you will be the more miserable for the
benefits of the gospel being so glorious, and that because
your crime in rejecting and despising them will be the
more heinous. Heb. ii. 3. " How shall we escape, if we
neglect so great salvation."
Thirdly, Whilst you continue an unbeliever, the more
you hear of this way of salvation, your condition will be
come the more miserable. The longer you sit under the
preaching of the gospel, the more doleful does your case
grow. Your guilt continually increases. For your refusals
of the gospel, and your rejections of this way of salvation,
are so much the oftener repeated. Every time you hear the
gospel preached, you are guilty of a renewed rejection of
it, the guilt of which therefore you will have lying upon
you. And the more you hear of the suitableness and glory
of this way, the greater is your guilt who still continue to
reject it. Every new illustration of the wisdom and grace
of God in redemption, adds to your guilt, Matt, xxiii. 37.
" O Jerusalem, Jerusalem— how often would I have ga
thered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her
chickens under her wings, but ye would not ! — —What
adds to your misery is, that as long as it continues, it is a
growing evil.

156 Fourthly, Consider the danger there is, that you will
never have any lot or portion in this matter ; seeing there
are but few that have. Christ has told us that strait is the
gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few
there be that find it. There have been but few in all ages
of the world. Many seek ; and many hope that they
shall obtain. There are but few that intend to be damned ;
while many hope that they shall some way or other find
means to escape eternal misery. But after all, there are
but few saved ; or obtain the benefits of redemption.
SECT. XI.
Exhortation to come to Christ.
I conclude with an use of exhortation to come to
Christ, and accept of salvation in this way. You are in
vited to come to Christ, heartily to close with him, and
trust in him for salvation : arid if you do so, you shall
have the benefit of this glorious contrivance. You shall
have the benefit of all ; as much as if the whole had been
contrived for you alone. God has already contrived every
thing that is needful for your salvation ; and there is no
thing wanting but your consent. Since God has taken
this matter of the redemption of sinners into his own
hand, he has made thorough work of it ; he has not left it
for you to finish. Satisfaction is already made, righteous
ness is already wrought out : death and hell are already
conquered. The Redeemer has already taken possession
of glory, and keeps it in his hands to bestow on them
who come to him. Tliere were many difficulties in the
way, but they are all removed. The Saviour has already
triumphed over all, and is at the right hand of God, to
give eternal life to his people.
Salvation is ready brought to your door ; and the
Saviour stands, knocks, and calls that you would open to
him, that he might bring it in to you. There remains no
thing but your consent. All the difficulty now remaining
is with your own heart. If you perish now, it must be
wholly at your door. It must be because you would not
come to Christ that you might have life ; and because you
virtually choose death rather than life, Prov. viii. 36. "He
that sinneth against me, wrongeth his own soul : all they
that hate me love death." — All that is now required of you,
is, that your heart should close with Christ as a Saviour.
Here consider,
1 . That the wisdom of God hath so contrived, that he
hath forestalled all your objections. If you make objec
tions against Christ and the way of salvation, they must
be all unreasonable. You cannot reasonably object that
your sins are of such a nature, that God's honour will
not allow of your pardon. It is true God insists upon
his own honour. He is a God that will be honoured, and
his majesty shall be vindicated : and when sinners cast
contempt upon him, his honour requires vengeance. But
God has so contrived this way, that his honour may be
repaired by the punishment of sin without the sinner's
suffering, how great soever the sin be. Herein the wisdom
of this way appears, that there is a sufficiency for the
greatest and most heinous transgressors.
You cannot object that God the Father will not be willing
to accept you, for the Mediator's sake ; for he hath chosen
his own Son to be a mediator, to cut off any such objec
tions. So you may be sure that God will receive you if
you go to him through Christ. — You cannot object that
God the Father has not given sufficient assurance of sal
vation to believers ; for the principal things, those which
would have been most difficult to believe, are already
fulfilled : God hath already given his Son to die for us.
This, before it was accomplished, was much more strange,
and difficult to believe, than that he should give eternal
life to sinners after Christ died for them. Rom. viii. 32.
" He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for
us all, how shall he not with him freely gi ve us all things."
There is no room to doubt but that if we accept of
Christ, God will give eternal life ; for he hath given it al
ready into the hands of our Saviour for us. He hath in
trusted him with the whole affair. He hath given all
things into his hands, that he might give eternal life to as
many as should come to him. The Father hath appointed
him who died for believers, to be their judge, to have the

WISDOM DISPLAYED IN SALVATION.

whole determination of the matter, and the disposal of
the reward, in his own hand. And you cannot doubt but
that Christ will be willing to bestow eternal life on them
for whom he purchased it. For if he is not willing to
bestow it, surely he never would have died to purchase it.
Who can think' that Christ would be so desirous of sinners
being saved, as to undergo so much for it ; and not be
willing to let them have it, when he had obtained it for
them. — Consider,
2. The wisdom of God hath contrived that there should
be in the person of the Saviour all manner of attractives
to draw us to him. He has in him all possible excellency.
He is possessed of all the beauty and glory of the God
head. — So that there can be no manner of excellency, nor
degree of excellency that we can devise, but what' is in
the person of the Saviour.- — But yet so redundant has the
wisdom of God been, in providing attractives in order that
we should come to Christ, it hath so ordered that there
should also be all human excellencies in him. If there
be any thing attractive in this consideration, that Christ is
one in our own nature, one of us ; this is true of Christ.
He is not only in the divine, but in the human nature.
He is truly a man, and has all possible human excellen
cies. He was of a most excellent spirit ; wise and holy,
condescending and meek, and of a lowly, benign, and be
nevolent disposition.
Again : The wisdom of God hath chosen a person of
great love to sinners, and who should show that love in the
most endearing manner possible. What more condescend
ing love can there be, than the love of a divine person to
such worms of the dust ? What freer love can there be
than love to enemies ? What gi eater love can there be,
than dying love ? And what more endearing expression of
love, than dying for the beloved ? And the wisdom of God
hath so contrived, that Christ shall sustain that office
which should most tend to endear him to us, and draw
us to him : the office of a redeemer, a redeemer from
eternal misery, and the purchaser of all happiness.
And if all this be not enough to draw us, the wisdom of
God hath ordered more ; it hath provided us a Saviour
that should offer himself to us in the most endearing rela
tion. He offers to receive us as friends. To receive us
to an union to himself, to become our spiritual husband
and portion for ever. — And the wisdom of God has pro
vided us a Saviour that woos in a manner that has the
greatest tendency to win our hearts. His word is most
attractive. He stands at our door and knocks. He does not
merely command us to receive him : but he condescends
to apply himself to us in a more endearing manner. He
entreats and beseeches us in his word and by his messengers.
3. The wisdom of God hath contrived that there should
be all manner of attractives in the benefits that Christ offers
you. There are not only the excellencies of the person of
Christ to draw you to him , but the desirable benefits he
offers. Here is what is most suitable to the cravings of
the human nature. Men when distressed and burdened,
long for ease and rest : here it is offered to us in Christ.
"Come unto me," says he, "all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and 1 will give you rest." — Men when in fear
of danger, long for safety : here it is provided for us in
Christ. God promises that he will become a shield and
buckler, a strong rock and high tower to those that trust
in him. — Those that mourn need comfort : Christ tells us
that "he came to comfort those that mourn," Isa. lxi. 2.
— The blind need to have their eyes opened. The light is
sweet to men : Christ offers to anoint our eves with eye-
salve that we may see glorious light. He will be our sun,
and the light of God's countenance. — What is more dear
to men than life ? Christ hath purchased for men, that they
should live for ever, Psal. xxi. 4. "He asked life of thee,
and thou gavest it him, even length of days for ever and
ever."— How greatly is a crown prized and admired by the
children of men ! And Christ offers this ;— not a corrup
tible crown, but an incorruptible and far more glorious
crown than any worn, by earthly kings : a crown of glory,
the lustre of which shall never fade, nor decay ; with an
everlasting kingdom.— Do men love pleasures? Here are
pleasures for evermore. What could there be more to draw
our hearts to Jesus Christ, and to make us willing to accept
of him for our Saviour, with all his unspeakable benefits?

CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE

IMPORTANCE AND ADVANTAGE OF A THOROUGH KNOWLEDGE OF DIVINE TRUTH.

Hebrews v. 12.
For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need
that one teach you again which be the first principles qf
the oracles of God; and are become such as have need qf
milk, and not of strong meat.
These words are a complaint, which the apostle makes
against ihe christian Hebrews, for their want of such profi
ciency in the knowledge of the doctrines and mysteries of
religion, as might have been expected of them. The apostle
complains, that they had not made that progress in their
acquaintance with the things taught in the oracles of God,
which they ought to have made. And he means to re
prove them, not merely for their deficiency in spiritual and
experimental knowledge of divine things, but for their de
ficiency in a doctrinal acquaintance with the principles of
religion, and the truths of christian divinity; as is evident
by the manner in which the apostle introduces this reproof.
The occasion of his introducing it is this : In the next
verse but one preceding, be mentions Christ as being
" Called of God an high priest after the order of Melchi-
zedek." In the Old Testament, the oracles of God, Mel-
chizedek was held forth as an eminent type of Christ; and
the account we there have of him contains many gospel
mysteries. These mysteries the apostle was willing to
point out to the christian Hebrews ; but he apprehended,
that through their weakness in knowledge, they would not
understand him ; and therefore breaks off for the present
from saying any thing about Melchizedek, thus, (ver. 11.)
" Of whom we have many things to say, and hard to be
uttered ; seeing ye are all dull of hearing ;" i. e. there are
many things concerning Melchizedek which contain won
derful gospel-mysteries, and which I would take notice of
to you, were it not that I am afraid, that through your dul
ness, and backwardness in understanding these things, you
would only be puzzled and confounded by my discourse,
and so receive no benefit ; and that it would be too hard
for vou, as meat that is too strong.
Then come in the words of the text : " For when for the
time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach
you again which be the first principles of the oracles of
God ; and are become such as have need of milk, and not
of strong meat." As much as to say, Indeed it might
have been expected of you, that you should have known
enough ofthe Holy Scriptures, to be able to understand and
digest such mysteries : but it is not so with you. The
apostle speaks of their proficiency in such knowledge as is
conveyed by Jjuman teaching : as appears by that expres
sion, " When for the time ye ought to be teachers ;"
which includes not only a practical and experimental, but
also a doctrinal, knowledge of the truths and mysteries of
religion. Again, the apostle speaks of such knowledge, whereby
Christians are enabled to understand those things in divinity
which are more abstruse and difficult to be understood,
and which require great skill in things of this nature. This
is more fully expressed in the two next verses : " For every
one that useth milk, is unskilful in the word of righteous
ness ; for he is a babe. But strong meat belongeth to them
that are of full age, even those who, by reason of use, have

their senses exercised to discern both good and evil." It
is such knowledge, that proficiency in it shall carry per
sons beyond the first principles of religion. As here ; " Ye
have need that one teach you again which be the first
principles ofthe oracles of God." Therefore the apostle, in
the beginning of the next chapter, advises them " to leave
the first principles of the doctrine of Christ, and to go on
unto perfection."
We may observe that the fault of this defect appears, in
that they had not made proficiency according to their time.
—For the time, they ought to have been teachers. As they
were Christians, their business was to learn and gain chris
tian knowledge. They were scholars in the school of
Christ; and if they had improved their time in learning, as
they ought to have done, they might, by the time when the
apostle wrote, have been fit to be teachers in this school.
To whatever business any one is devoted, it may be ex
pected that his perfection in it shall be answerable to the
time he has had to learn and perfect himself. — Christians
should not always remain babes, but should grow in chris
tian knowledge ; and leaving the food of babes, they should
learn to digest strong meat.
Doctrine. Every Christian should make a business
of endeavouring to grow in knowledge in divinity. — This is
indeed esteemed the business of divines and ministers : it
is commonly thought to be their work, by the study of the
Scriptures, and other instructive books, to gain knowledge ;
and most seem to think that it may be left to them, as what
belongeth not to others. But if the apostle had entertain
ed this notion, he would never have blamed the christian
Hebrews for not having acquired knowledge enough to be
teachers. Or if he had thought, that this concerned Chris
tians in general only as a thing by the by, and that their
time should not in a considerable measure be taken up
with this business ; he never would have so much blamed
them, that their proficiency in knowledge had not been
answerable to the time which they had had to learn.
In handling this subject, I shall show — what is intended
by divinity — what kind of knowledge in divinity is intend
ed — why knowledge in divinity is necessary.
And why all Christians should make a business of en
deavouring to grow in this knowledge.

SECT. I.
What is intended by divinity, as the object qf christian
knowledge.
Various definitions have been given of this subject by
those who have treated on it. I shall not now stand to in
quire which, according to the rules of art, is the most ac
curate definition ; but shall so define or describe it, as I
think has the greatest tendency to convey a proper notion
of it. — It is that science or doctrine which comprehends all
those truths and rules which concern the great business of
religion. There are various kinds of arts and sciences taught and
learned in the schools, which are conversant about various
objects ; about the works of nature in general, as philo
sophy ; or the visible heavens, as astronomy ; or the sea,

158

IMPORTANCE OF CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.

as navigation ; or the earth, as geography ; or the body of
man, as physic and anatomy ; or the soul of man, with
regard to its natural powers and qualities, as logic and
pneumatology ; or about human government, as politics
and jurisprudence. But one science, or kind of know
ledge and doctrine, is above all the rest ; as it treats con
cerning God and the great business of religion. Divinity
is not learned, as other sciences, merely by the improve
ment of man's natural reason, but is taught by God him
self in a book full of instruction, which he hath given us
for that end. This is the rule which God hath given to
the world to be their guide in searching after this kind of
knowledge, and is a summary of all things of this nature
needful for us to know. Upon this account divinity is
rather called a doctrine, than an art or science.
Indeed there is what is called natural religion. There
are many truths concerning God, and our duty to him,
which are evident by the light of nature. But christian
divinity, properly so called, is not evident by the light of
nature; it depends on revelation. Such are our circum
stances now in our fallen state, that nothing which it is
needful for us to know concerning God, is manifest by the
light of nature, in the manner in which it is necessary for
us to know it. For the knowledge of no truth in divinity
is of significance to us, any otherwise than as it some way
or other belongs to the gospel-scheme, or as it relates to a
Mediator. But the light of nature teaches us no truth in
tbis matter. Therefore it cannot be said, that we come to
the knowledge of any part of christian truth by the light
of nature. It is only the word of God, contained in the
Old and New Testament, which teaches us christian di
vinity. This comprehends all that is taught in the Scriptures,
and so all that we need know, or is to be known, concern
ing God and Jesus Christ, concerning our duty to God,
and our happiness in God. Divinity is commonly de
fined, the doctrine of living to God ; and by some who
seem to be more accurate, the doctrine of living to God by
Christ. It comprehends all christian doctrines as they
are in Jesus, and all christian rules directing us in living
to God by Christ. There is no one doctrine, no promise,
no rule, but what some wav or other relates to the chris
tian and divine life, or our living to God by Christ. They
all relate to this, in two respects, viz. as they tend to pro
mote our living to God here in this world, in a life of faith
and holiness, and also as they tend to bring us to a life of
perfect holiness and happiness, in the full enjoyment of
God hereafter.

SECT. II.
What kind qf knowledge in divinity, is intended in the
doctrine.
There are two kinds of knowledge of divine truth, viz.
speculative and practical, or in other terms, natural and
spiritual. The former remains only in the head. No
other faculty but the understanding is concerned in it. It
consists in having a natural or rational knowledge of the
things of religion, or such a knowledge as is to be ob
tained by the natural exercise of our own faculties, with
out any special illumination of the Spirit of God. The
latter rests not entirely in the head, or in the speculative
ideas of things ; but the heart is concerned in it : it prin
cipally consists in the sense of the heart. The mere intel
lect, without the will or the inclination, is not the seat of
it. And it may not only be called seeing, but feeling or
tasting. Thus there is a difference between having a right
speculative notion of the doctrines contained in the word
of God, and having a due sense of them in the heart. In
the former consists the speculative or natural knowledge
in the latter consists the spiritual or practical knowledge'
of them. 6
Neither of these is intended in the doctrine exclusively
of the other : but it is intended that we should seek the
former in order to the latter. The latter, or the spiritual
and practical, is of the greatest importance ; for a specu
lative without a spiritual knowledge, is to no purpose, but
to make our condemnation the greater. Yet a speculative
knowledge is also of infinite importance in this respect,

that without it we can have no spiritual or practical know
ledge. I have already shown, that the apostle speaks not only
of a spiritual knowledge, but of such as can be acquired,
and communicated from one to another. Yet it is not to
be thought, that he means this exclusively of the other.
But he would have the christian Hebrews seek the one
in order to the other. Therefore the former is first and
most directly intended ; it is intended that Christians
should, by reading and other proper means, seek a good
rational knowledge of the things of divinity : while the
latter is more indirectly intended, since it is to be sought
by the other. But I proceed to

SECT. III.
The usefulness and necessity qf the knowledge qf divine
truths.
There is no other way by which any means of grace
whatsoever can be of any benefit, but by knowledge. All
teaching is in vain, without learning. Therefore the preach
ing of the gospel would be wholly to no purpose, if it
conveyed no knowledge to the mind. There is an order
of men which Christ has appointed on purpose to be
teachers in his church. But they teach in vain, if no
knowledge in these things is gained by their teaching.
It is impossible that their teaching and preaching
should be a mean of grace, or of any good in the
hearts of their hearers, any otherwise than by know
ledge imparted to the understanding. Otherwise it would
be of as much benefit to the auditory, if the minister
should preach in some unknown tongue. All the differ
ence is, that preaching in a known tongue conveys some
thing to the understanding, which preaching in an un
known tongue doth not. On this account, such preaching
must be unprofitable. In such things men receive nothing,
when they understand nothing ; and are not at all edified,
unless some knowledge be conveyed; agreeable to the
apostle's arguing, 1 Cor. xiv. 2—6.
No speech can be a mean of grace, but by conveying
knowledge. Otherwise the speech is as much lost as if
there had been no man there, and if he that spoke, had
spoken only into the air ; as it follows in the passage just
quoted, ve'r. 6—10. God deals with man as with a
rational creature ; and when faith is in exercise, it is not
about something he knows not what. Therefore hearing is
absolutely necessary to faith ; because hearing is necessary
to understanding, Rom. x. 14. " How shall they believe in
him of whom they have not heard ?" In like manner, there
can be no love without knowledge. It is not according to
the nature of the human soul, to love an object which is
entirely unknown. The heart cannot be set upon an ob
ject of which there is no idea in the understanding. The
reasons which induce the soul to love, must first be under
stood, before they can have a reasonable influence on the
heart. God hath given us the Bible, which is a book of in
structions. But this book can be of no manner of profit
to us, any otherwise than as it conveys some knowledge to
the mind : it can profit us no more than if it were written
in the Chinese or Tartarian language, of which we know
not one word. So the sacraments of the gospel can have
a proper effect no other way, than by conveying some know
ledge. They represent certain things by visible signs. And
what is the end of signs, but to convey some knowledge
of the things signified ? Sucn is the nature of man, that
no object can come at the heart but through the door of
the understanding : and there can be no spiritual know
ledge of that of which there is not first a rational know
ledge. It is impossible that any one should see the truth
or excellency of any doctrine of the gospel, who knows not
what that doctrine is. A man cannot see the wonderful
excellency and love of Christ in doing such and such
things for sinners, unless his understanding be first in
formed how those things were done. He cannot have a
taste of the sweetness and excellency of divine truth, un
less he first have a notion that there is such a thing.
Without knowledge in divinity, none would differ from
the most ignorant and barbarous heathens. The heathens

Sect. IV

WHY CHRISTIANS SHOULD GROW IN KNOWLEDGE.

159

remain in gross darkness, because they are not instructed,
and have not obtained the knowledge of divine truths.
If men have no knowledge of these things, the faculty
of reason in him will be wholly in vain. The faculty of
reason and understanding was given for actual under
standing and knowledge. If a man have no actual know
ledge, the faculty or capacity of knowing is of no use to
him. And if he have actual knowledge, yet if he be des
titute of the knowledge of those things which are the last
end of his being, and for the sake of the knowledge of
which he had .more understanding given him than the
beasts; then still his faculty of reason is in vain ; he might
as well have been a beast as a man. But divine subjects
are the things, to know which we had the faculty of reason
given us. They are the things which appertain to the end
of our being, and to the great business for which we are
made. Therefore a man cannot have his faculty of under
standing to any good purpose, further than he hath know
ledge of divine truth.
So that this kind of knowledge is absolutely necessary. —
Other kinds of knowledge may be very useful. Some other
sciences, such as astronomy, natural philosophy, and geo
graphy, may be very excellent in their kind. But the
knowledge of this divine science is infinitely more useful
and important than that of all other sciences whatever.

SECT. IV.
Why aU Christians should make a business of endeavouring
to grow in the knowledge qf divinity.
Christians ought not to content themselves with such
degrees of knowledge of divinity as they have already ob
tained. It should not satisfy ihem, as they know as much
as is absolutely necessary to salvation, but should seek to
make progress.
This endeavour to make progress in such knowledge
ought not to be attended to as a thing by the bye, but all
Christians should make a business of it. They should look
upon it as a part of their daily business, and no small part
of it neither. It should be attended to as a considerable
part ofthe work of their high calling. — For,
1. Our business should doubtless much consist in em
ploying those faculties, by which we are distinguished from
the beasts, about those things which are the main end of
those faculties. The reason why we have faculties supe
rior to those of the brutes given us, is, that we are indeed
designed for a superior employment. That which the
Creator intended should be our main employment, is some
thing above what he intended the beast for, and therefore
hath given us superior powers. Therefore, without doubt,
it should be a considerable part of our business to improve
those superior faculties. But the faculty by which we are
chiefly distinguished from the brutes, is the faculty of un
derstanding. It follows then, that we should make it our
chief business to improve this faculty, and should by no
means prosecute it as a business by the bye. For us to
make the improvement of tbis faculty a business by the
bye, is in effect for us to make the faculty of understanding
itself a by-faculty, if I may so speak, a faculty of less im
portance than others : whereas indeed it is the highest
faculty we have.
But we cannot make a business of the improvement of
our intellectual faculty, any otherwise than by making a
business of improving ourselves in actual knowledge. So
that those who make not this very much their business;
but instead of improving their understanding to acquire
knowledge, are chiefly devoted to their inferior power — to
please their senses, and gratify their animal appetites — not
only behave themselves in a manner not becoming Chris
tians, but also act as if they had forgotten that they are
men, and that God hath set them above the brutes, by giv
ing them understanding.
God hath given to man some things in common with the
brutes, as his outward senses, his bodily appetites, a ca
pacity of bodily pleasure and pain, and other animal facul
ties : and some things he hath given him superior to the
brutes, the chief of which is a faculty of understanding and
reason. Now God never gave man these faculties to be
subject to. those which he hath in common with the brutes.

This would be great confusion, and equivalent to making
man to be a servant to the beasts. On the contrary, he
has given those inferior powers to be employed in subser
viency to man's understanding ; and therefore it must be a
great part of man's principal business to improve his un
derstanding by acquiring knowledge. If so, then it will
follow, that it should be a main part of his business to
improve his understanding in acquiring divine knowledge,
or the knowledge of the things of divinity: for the know
ledge of these things is the principal end of this faculty.
God gave man the faculty of understanding, chiefly, that
he might understand divine things.
The wiser heathens were sensible that the main business
of man was the improvement and exercise.of his under
standing. But they knew not the object about which the
understanding should chiefly be employed. That science
which many of them thought should chiefly employ the
understanding, was philosophy; and accordingly they made
it their chief business to study it. But we who enjoy the
light of the gospel are more happy ; we are not left, as to
this particular, in the dark. God hath told us about what
things we should chiefly employ our understandings, hav
ing given us a book full of divine instructions, holding
forth many glorious objects about which all rational crea
tures should chiefly employ their understandings. These
instructions are accommodated to persons of all capacities
and conditions, and proper to be studied, not only by men
of learning, but by persons of every character, learned and
unlearned, young and old, men and women. Therefore the
acquisition of knowledge in these things should be a main
business of all those who have the advantage of enjoying
the Holy Scriptures.
2. The truths of divinity are superlative excellency, and
are worthy that all should make a business of endeavour
ing to grow in the knowledge of them. They are as much
above those things which are treated of in other sciences, as
heaven is above the earth. God himself, the eternal Three
in one, is the chief object of this science ; and next Jesus
Christ, as God-man and Mediator, and the glorious work
of redemption, the most glorious work that ever was
wrought : then the great things of the heavenly world, the
glorious and eternal inheritance purchased by Christ, and
promised in the gospel ; the work of the Holy Spirit of God
on the hearts of men ; our duty to God, and the way in
which we ourselves may become like angels, and like
God himself in our measure. All these are objects of this
science. Such things as these have been the main subject of the
study of the holy patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, and
the most excellent men that ever existed ; and thev are
also the subject of study to the angels in heaven ; 1 Pet. i.
10—12. — They are so excellent and worthy to be known,
that the knowledge of them will richly pay for all the pains
and labour of an earnest seeking of it. If there were a
great treasure of gold and pearls accidentally found, and
opened with such circumstances that all might have as
much as they could gather; would not every one think it
worth his while to make a business of gathering while it
should last ? But that treasure of divine knowledge, which
is contained in the Scriptures, and is provided for every
one to gather lo himself as much of it as he can, is far more
rich than any one of gold and pearls. How busy are all
sorts of men, all over the world, in gettingriches ! But this
knowledge is a far better kind of riches, than that after
which they so diligently and laboriously pursue.
3. Divine truths not only concern ministers, but are of
infinite importance to all Christians. It is not with the
doctrines of divinity as it is with the doctrines of philoso
phy and other sciences. These last are generally specu
lative points, which are of little concern in human life ;
and it very little alters the case as to our temporal or
spiritual interests, whether we know them or not. Philo
sophers differ about them, some being of one opinion, and
others of another. And while they are engaged in warm
disputes about them, others may well leave them to dis
pute among themselves, without troubling their heads much
about them ; it being of little concern to them, whether the
one or the other be in the right. — But it is not thus in mat
ters of divinity. The doctrines of this nearly concern
every one. They are about those things which relate to

160
every man's eternal salvation and happiness. The common
people cannot say, Let us leave these matters to ministers
aud divines ; let them dispute them out among themselves
as they can ; they concern not us : for they are of infinite
importance to every man. Those doctrines which relate to
the essence, attributes, and subsistencies of God, concern
all ; as it is of infinite importance to common people, as
well as to ministers, to know what kind of being God is.
For he is a Being who hath made us all, " in whom we
live, and move, and have our being;" who is the Lord of
all ; the Being to whom we are all accountable ; is the
lastend of our being, and the only fountain of our happiness.
The doctrines also which relate to Jesus Christ and his
mediation, his incarnation, his life and death, his resurrec
tion and ascension, his sitting at the right hand of the
Father, his satisfaction and intercession, infinitely concern
common people as well as divines. They stand in as
much need of this Saviour, and of an interest in his per
son and offices, and the things which he hath done and
suffered, as ministers and divines. — The same may be said
of the doctrines which relate to the manner of a sinner's
justification, or tbe way in which he becomes interested
in the mediation of Christ. They equally concern all ;
for all stand in equal necessity of justification before God.
That eternal condemnation, to which we are all naturally
exposed, is equally dreadful. So with respect to those
doctrines which relate to the work of the Spirit of God on
the heart, in the application of redemption in our effectual
calling and sanctification, all are equally concerned in them.
There is no doctrine of divinity whatever, which doth not
some way or other concern the eternal interest of every
Christian. 4. We may argue in favour of the same position, from
the great things which God hath done in order to give us
instruction in these things. As to other sciences, he hath
left us to ourselves, to the light of our own reason. But
divine things being of infinitely greater importance to us,
he hath not left us to an uncertain guide ; but hath him
self given us a revelation of the truth in these matters,
and hath done very great things to convey and confirm it
to us; raising up many prophets in different ages, im
mediately inspiring them with this Holy Spirit, and con
firming their doctrine with innumerable miracles or won
derful works out of the established course of nature. Yea,
he raised up a succession of prophets, which was upheld
for several ages.
It was very much for this end that God separated the
people of Israel, in so wonderful a manner, from all other
people, and kept them separate ; that to them he might
commit the oracles of God, and that from them they might
be communicated to the world. He hath also often sent
angels to bring divine instructions to men ; and hath often
himself appeared in miraculous symbols or representations
of his presence : and now in these last days hath sent his
own Son into the world, to be his great prophet, to teach us
divine truth. Heb. i. 1, &c. God hath given us a book of
divine instructions, which contains the sum of divinity.
Now, these things hath God done, not only for the in
struction of ministers and men of learning; but for the
instruction of all men, of all sorts, learned and unlearned,
men, women, and children. And certainly if God doth
such great things to teach us, we ought to do something to
learn. God giving instructions to men in these things, is not a
business by the by ; but what he hath undertaken and
prosecuted in a course of great and wonderful dispensa
tions, as an affair in which his heart hath been greatly en
gaged; which is sometimes in Scripture signified by the
expression of God's rising early to teach us, and to send
us prophets and teachers. Jer. vii. 25. " Since that day
that your fathers came forth out of the land of Egypt,
unto this day, I have even sent unto you all my servants
the prophets, daily rising upearl y, and sending them." And
ver. 13. " I spake unto you, rising up early, and speaking."
This is a figurative speech, signifying, that God hath done
this as a business of great importance, in which he took
great care, and had his heart much engaged ; because per
sons are wont to rise early to prosecute such business as they
are earnestly engaged in. — If God hath been so engaged
in teaching, certainly we should not be negligent in

IMPORTANCE OF CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.

learning ; but should make growing in knowledge a great
part of the business of our lives.
5. It may be argued from the abundance of the instruc
tions which God hath given us, from the largeness of that
book which God hath given to teach us divinity, and from
the great variety that is therein contained. Much was
taught by Moses of old, which we have transmitted down
to us ; after that, other books were from time to time
added ; much is taught us by David and Solomon ; and
many and excellent are the instructions communicated by
the prophets : yet God did not think all this enough, but
after this sent Christ and his apostles, by whom there is
added a great and excellent treasure to that holy book, which
is to be our rule in the study of this important subject.
This book was written for the use of all ; all are directed
to search the Scriptures, John v. 39. " Search the Scrip
tures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life ; and they
are they that testify of me;'' and Isa. xxxiv. 16. " Seek
ye out of the book of the Lord, and read." They that
read and understand are pronounced blessed, Rev. i. 3.
" Blessed is he that readeth, and they that understand the
words of this prophecy." If this be true of that particular
book of the Revelation, much more is it true of the Bible in
general. Nor is it to be believed that God would have given
instructions in such abundance, if he had intended that re
ceiving instruction should be only a bye concern with us.
It is to be considered, that all those abundant instruc
tions which are contained in the Scriptures were written
that they might be understood : otherwise they are not in
structions. That which is not given that the learner may
understand it, is not given for the learner's instruction ;
unless we endeavour to grow in the knowledge of divinity,
a very great part of those instructions will to us be in vain;
for we can receive benefit by no more of the Scriptures
than we understand. We have reason to bless God that
he hath given us such various and plentiful instruction in
his word ; but we shall be hypocritical in so doing, if we
after all content ourselves with but little of this instruction.
When God hath opened a very large treasure before us,
for the supply of our wants, and we thank him that he
hath given us so much ; if at the same time we be willing
to remain destitute of the greatest part of it, because we
are too lazy to gather it, this will not show the sincerity of
our thankfulness. We are now under much greater ad
vantages to acquire knowledge in divinity, than the people
of God were of old, because since that time the canon of
Scripture is much increased. But if we be negligent of
our advantages, we may be never the better for them, and
may remain with as little knowledge as they.
6. However diligent we apply ourselves, there is room
enough to increase our knowledge in divine truth. None
have this excuse to make for not diligently applying them
selves to gain knowledge in divinity, that they already
know all ; nor can they make this excuse, that they have
no need diligently to apply themselves, in order to
know all that is to be known. None can excuse them
selves for want of business in which to employ themselves.
There is room enough to employ ourselves for ever in this
divine science, with the utmost application. Those who
have applied themselves most closely, have studied the
longest, and have made the greatest attainments in this
knowledge, know but little of what is to be known. The
subject is inexhaustible. That divine Being, who is the
main subject of this science, is infinite, and there is no end
to the glory of his perfections. His works at the same
time are wonderful, and cannot be found out to perfection ;
especially the work of redemption, about which the science of
divinity is chiefly conversant,is full of unsearchable wonders.
The word of God, which is given for our instruction in
divinity, contains enough in it to employ us to the end of
our lives, and then we shall leave enough uninvestigated to
employ the heads of the ablest divines to the end of the
world. The psalmist found an end to the things that are
human ; but he could never find an end to what is con
tained in the word of God : Psal. cxix. 96. " I have seen
an end to all perfection ; but thy command is exceeding
broad." There is enough in this divine science to employ
the understandings of saints and angels to all eternity.
7. It doubtless concerns every one to endeavour to excel
in the knowledge of things which pertain to his profession,

Sect. V.

EXHORTATION TO GAIN CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.

1C1

or principal calling. If it concerns men to excel in any
thing, or in any wisdom or knowledge at all, it certainly
concerns them to excel in the affairs of their main profes
sion and work. But the calling and work of every Chris
tian is to live to God. This is said to be his high calling,
Phil. hi. 14. This is the business, and, if I may so speak,
the trade of a Christian, his main work, and indeed should
be his only work. No business should be done by a
Christian, but as it is some way or other a part of this.
Therefore certainly the Christian should endeavour to be
well acquainted with those things which belong to this work,
that he may fulfil it, and be thoroughly furnished to it.
It becomes one who is called to be a soldier, to excel in
the art of war. It becomes a mariner, to excel in the art
of navigation. It becomes a physician, to excel in the
knowledge of those things which pertain to the art of
physic. So it becomes all such as profess to be Chris
tians, and to devote themselves to the practice of Chris
tianity, to endeavour to excel in the knowledge of divinity.
8. It may be argued hence, that God hath appointed an
order of men for this end, to assist persons in gaining
knowledge in these things. He hath appointed them to
be teachers, 1 Cor. xii. 28. and God hath set some in
the church ; first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly
teachers : Eph. iv. 11, 12. " He gave some apostles, some
prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, for
the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry,
for the edifying of the body of Christ." If God hath set
them to be teachers, making that their business, then he
hath made it their business to impart knowledge. But what
kind of knowledge ? not the knowledge of philosophy, or
of human laws, or of mechanical arts, but of divinity.
If God have made it the business of some to be teachers,
it will follow, that he hath made it the business of others
to be learners ; for teachers and learners are correlates, one
of which was never intended to be without the other. God
hath never made it the duty of some to take pains to teach
those who are not obliged to take pains to learn. He hath
not commanded ministers to spend themselves, in order to
impart knowledge to those who are not obliged to apply
themselves to receive it.
The name by which Christians are commonly called in
the New Testament is disciples, the signification of which
word is scholars or learners. All Christians are put into
the school of Christ, where their business is to learn, or
receive knowledge from Christ, their common master and
teacher, and from those inferior teachers appointed by him
to instruct in his name.
9. God hath in the Scriptures plainly revealed it to be
his will, that all Christians should diligently endeavour to
excel in the knowledge of divine things. It is the reveal
ed will of God, that Christians should not only have some
knowledge of things of this nature, but that they should
be enriched with all knowledge : 1 Cor. i. 4, 5. " I thank
my God always on your behalf, for the grace of God that
is given you by Jesus Christ, that in every thing ye are
enriched by him, in all utterance, and in all knowledge."
So the apostle earnestly prayed, that the christian Phuip-
pians might abound more and more, not only in love, but
in christian knowledge; Phil. i. 9. "And this I pray, that
your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge,
and in all judgment." So the apostle Peter advises to
" give all diligence to add to faith virtue, and to virtue
knowledge," 2 Pet. i. 5. and the apostle Paul, in the
next chapter to that wherein is the text, counsels the
christian Hebrews, leaving the first principles of the doc
trine of Christ, to go on to perfection. He would by no
means have them always to rest only in those funda
mental doctrines of repentance, and faith, and the resur
rection from the dead, and the eternal judgment, in which
they were instructed when baptized, at their first initiation
in Christianity. (See Heb. vi. &c.)

SECT. V.
An exhortation that all may diligently endeavour to gain
christian knowledge.
Consider yourselves as scholars or disciples, put into
the school of Christ ; and therefore be diligent to make
VOL. II. m

proficiency in christian knowledge. Content not your
selves with this, that you have been taught your catechism
in your childhood, and that you know as much of the
principles of religion as is necessary to salvation; else you
will be guilty of what the apostle warns against, viz. going
no further than laying the foundation of repentance from
dead works, &c.
You are all called to be Christians, and this is your
profession. Endeavour, therefore, to acquire knowledge
in things which pertain to your profession. Let not your
teachers have cause to complain, that while they spend
and are spent, to impart knowledge to you, you take little
pains to learn. It is a great encouragement to an in
structor, to have such to teach as make a business of
learning, bending their minds to it. This makes teaching
a pleasure, when otherwise it will be a very heavy and
burdensome task.
You all have by you a large treasure of divine know
ledge, in that you have the Bible in your hands ; there
fore be not contented in possessing but little of this trea
sure. God hath spoken much to you in the Scriptures ;
labour to understand as much of what he saith as you
can. God hath made you all reasonable creatures ; there
fore let not the noble faculty of reason or understanding
lie neglected. Content not yourselves with having so
much knowledge as is thrown in your way, and receive in
some sense unavoidably by the frequent inculcation of
divine truth in the preaching of the word, of which you
are obliged to be hearers, or accidentally gain in conversa
tion ; but let it be very much your business to search for
it, and that with the same diligence and labour with which
men are wont to dig in mines of silver and gold.
Especially I would advise those who are young to em
ploy themselves in this way. Men are never too old to
learn ; but the time of youth is especially the time for
learning; it is peculiarly proper for gaining and storing up
knowledge.  Further, to stir up all, both old and young,
to this duty, let me entreat you to consider,
1. If you apply yourselves diligently to this work, you
will not want employment, when you are at leisure from
your common secular business. In this way, you may
find something in which you may profitably employ your
selves. You will find something else to do, besides going
about from house to house, spending one hour after an
other in unprofitable conversation, or, at best, to no other
purpose but to amuse yourselves, to fill up and wear
away your time. And it is to be feared that very much
of the time spent in evening visits, is spent to a much
worse purpose than that which I have now mentioned.
Solomon tells us, Prov. x. 19. " That in the multitude of
words, there wanteth not sin." And is not this verified in
those who find little else to do but to go to one another's
houses, and spend the time in such talk as comes next, or
such as any one's present disposition happens to suggest ?
Some diversion is doubtless lawful ; but for Christians
to spend so much of their time, so many long evenings,
in no other conversation than that which tends to divert
and amuse, if nothing worse, is a sinful way of spending
time, and tends to poverty of soul at least, if not to out
ward poverty : Prov. xiv. 23. " In all labour there is
profit ; but the talk of the lips tendeth only to penury."
Besides, when persons for so much of their time have no
thing else to do, but to sit, and talk, and chat, there is
great danger of falling into foolish and sinful conversation,
venting their corrupt dispositions, in talking against others,
expressing their jealousies and evil surmises concerning
their neighbours ; not considering what Christ hath said,
Matt. xii. 36. " Of every idle word that men shall speak,
shall they give account in the day of judgment."
If you would comply with what you have heard from
this doctrine, you would find something else to employ
your time besides contention, or talking about those pub
lic affairs which tend to contention. Young people might
find something else to do, besides spending their time in
vain company ; something that would be much more pro
fitable to themselves, as it would really turn to some
good account; something, in doing which they would
both be more out of the way of temptation, and be more
in the way of duty, and of a divine blessing. And even
aged people would have something to employ themselves

162

IMPORTANCE OF CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.

in, after they are become incapable of bodily labour.
Their time, as is now often the case, would not lie heavy
upon their hands, as they would with both profit and
pleasure be engaged in searching the Scriptures, and in
comparing and meditating upon the various truths which
they should find there.
2. This would be a noble way of spending your time.—
The Holy Spirit gives the Bereans this epithet, because
they diligently employed themselves in this business :
Acts xvii. 11. "These were more noble than those of
Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all
readiness of mind, and searched the Scriptures daily, whe
ther those things were so." Similar to this is very much the
employment of heaven. The inhabitants of that world
spend much of their time in searching into the great
things of divinity, and endeavouring to acquire knowledge
in them, as we are told of the angels, 1 Pet. i. 12.
" Vv'hich things the angels desire to look into." This will
be very agreeable to what you hope will be your business
to all eternity, as you doubtless hope to join in the same
employment with the angels of light. Solomon says,
Prov. xxv. 2. " It is the honour of kings to search out a
matter ;" and certainly, above all others, to search out
divine matters. Now, if this be the honour even of kings,
is it not equally if not much more your honour ?
3. This is a pleasant way of improving time. Know
ledge is pleasant and delightful to intelligent creatures,
and above all, the knowledge of divine things ; for in them
are the most excellent truths, and the most beautiful and
amiable objects held forth to view. However tedious the
labour necessarily attending this business may be, yet the
knowledge once obtained will richly requite the pains
taken to obtain it. " When wisdom entereth the heart,
knowledge is pleasant to the soul." Prov. ii. 10.
4. This knowledge is exceedingly useful in christian
practice. Such as have much knowledge in divinity have
great means and advantages for spiritual and saving know
ledge ; for no means of grace have a saving effect, other
wise than by the knowledge they impart. The more you
have of a rational knowledge of divine things, the more
opportunity will there be, when the Spirit shall be breathed
into your heart, to see the excellency of these things, and
to taste the sweetness of them. The heathens, who have
no rational knowledge of the things of the gospel, have no
opportunity to see the excellency of them ; and therefore
the more rational knowledge of these things you have, the
more opportunity and advantage you have to see the divine
excellency and glory of them.
Again, The more knowledge you have of divine things,
the better will you know your duty ; your knowledge wili
be of great use to direct you as to your duty in particular
cases. You will also be the better furnished against the
temptations of the devil. For the devil often takes advan
tage of persons' ignorance to ply them with temptations
which otherwise would have no hold of them. By having
much knowledge, you will be under greater advantages to
conduct yourselves with prudence and discretion in your
christian course, and so to live much more to the honour
of God and religion. Many who mean well, and are full
of a good spirit, yet for want of prudence, conduct them
selves so as to wound religion. Many have a zeal of God,
which doth more hurt than good, because it is not accord
ing to knowledge, Rom. x. 2. The reason why many good
men behave no better in many instances, is not so much
that they want grace, as that they want knowledge. Be
side, an increase of knowledge would be a great help to
profitable conversation. It would supply you with matter
for conversation when you come together, or when you
visit your neighbours : and so you would have less tempt
ation to spend the time in such conversation as tends to
your own and others' hurt. .
5. Consider the advantages you are under to grow in
the knowledge of divinity. We are under far greater
advantages to gain much of this knowledge now, than
God's people under the Old Testament, both because the
canon of Scripture is so much enlarged since that time,
and also because evangelical truths are now so much more
plainly revealed. So that common men are now in some
respects under advantages to know more, than the greatest
prophets were then. Thus that saying of Christ is in a sense

applicable to us, Luke x. 23, 24. " Blessed are the eyes
which see the things which ye see. For I tell you, that
many prophets and kings have desired to see those things
which ye see, and have not seen them ; and to hear those
things which ye hear, and have not heard them. We are
in some respects under far greater advantages for gaining
knowledge, now in these latter ages of the church, than
Christians were formerly ; especially by reason of the art
of printing, of which God hath given us the benefit,
whereby Bibles and other books of divinity are exceedingly
multiplied, and persons may now be furnished with helps
for the obtaining of christian knowledge, at a much easier
and cheaper rate than they formerly could.
6. We know not what opposition we may meet with in
the religious principles which we hold. We know that
there are many adversaries to the gospel and its truths. If
therefore we embrace those truths, we must expect to be
attacked by the said adversaries ; and unless we be well
informed concerning divine things, how shall we be able
to defend ourselves? Beside, the apostle Peter enjoins
it upon us, always to be ready to give an answer to every
man who asketh us a reason of the hope that is in us.
But this we cannot expect to do without considerable
knowledge in divine things.

SECT. VI.
Directions for the acquisition qf christian knowledge.
1. Be assiduous in reading the Holy Scriptures. This
is the fountain whence all knowledge in divinity must he
derived. Therefore let not this treasure lie by you
neglected. Every man of common understanding who
can read, may, if he please, become well acquainted
with the Scriptures. And what an excellent attainment
would this be !
2. Content not yourselves with only a cursory reading,
without regarding the sense. This is an ill way of read
ing, to which, however, many accustom themselves all
their days. When you read, observe what you read.
Observe how things come in. Take notice of the drift of
the discourse, and compare one scripture with another.
For the Scripture, by the harmony of its different parts,
casts great light upon itself. — We are expressly directed
by Christ, to search the Scriptures, which evidently intends
something more than a mere cursory reading. And use
means to find out the meaning of the Scripture. When
you have it explained in the preaching of the word, take
notice of it ; and if at any time a scripture that you did
not understand be cleared up to your satisfaction, mark it,
lay it up, and if possible remember it.
3. Procure, and diligently use, other books which may
help you to grow in this knowledge. There are many
excellent books extant, which might greatly forward you
in this knowledge, and afford you a very profitable and
pleasant entertainment in your leisure hours. There is
doubtless a great defect in many, that through a lothness
to be at a little expense, they furnish themselves with no
more helps of this nature. They have a few books indeed,
which now and then on sabbath-days they read ; but Ihey
have had them so long, and read them so often, that they
are weary of them, and it is now become a dull story, a
mere task to read them.
4. Improve conversation with others to this end. How
much might persons promote each other's knowledge in
divine things, if they would improve conversation as they
might ; if men that are ignorant were not ashamed to
show their ignorance, and were willing to learn of others ;
if those that have knowledge would ' communicate it,
without pride and ostentation ; and if all were more
disposed to enter on such conversation as would be for
their mutual edification and instruction.
¦ 5. Seek not to grow in knowledge chiefly for the sake
of applause, and to enable you to dispute with others ; but
seek it for the benefit of your souls, and in order to prac
tice. — If applause be your end, you will not be so likely to
be led to the knowledge of the truth, but may justly, as
often is the case of those who are proud of their know
ledge, be led into error to your own perdition. This being
your end, if you should obtain much rational knowledge,

Sect. I.

ACQUISITION OF CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,

1C3

it would not be likely to be of any benefit to you, but
would puff you up with pride: 1 Cor. viii. 1. " Know
ledge puffeth up."
6. Seek to God, that he would direct you, and bless
you, in this pursuit after knowledge. This is the apostle's
direction, Jam. i. 5. " If any man lack wisdom, let him
ask it of God, who giveth to all liberally, and upbraideth
not." God is the fountain of all divine knowledge :
Prov. ii. 6. " The Lord giveth wisdom : out of his mouth
cometh knowledge and understanding." Labour to be
sensible of your own blindness and ignorance, and your
need of the help of God, lest you be led into error,

instead of true knowledge: 1 Cor. iii. 18. " If any man
would be wise, let him become a fool, that he may be
wise." 7. Practise according to what knowledge you have.
pThis will be the way to know more. The psalmist warmly
recommends this way of seeking knowledge in divine
truth, from his own experience : Psal. cxix. 100. " I un
derstand more than the ancients, because I keep thy pre
cepts." Christ also recommends the same : John vii. 17.
" If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine,
whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself."

CHRISTIAN CHARITY:

DUTY OF CHARITY TO THE POOR, EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.

Deut. _v. 7 — 11.
If there be among you a poor man of one qf thy brethren
within any of thy gates in thy land which the Lord thy
God giveth thee, thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut
thine hand from thy poor brother : but thou shalt open
thine hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him suf
ficient for his need, in that which he wanteth. Beware
that tliere be not a thought in thy wicked heart, saying,
The seventh year, the year of release, is at hand ; and
thine eye be evil against thy poor brother, and thou givest
him nought ; and he cry unto the Lord against thee, and
it be sin unto thee. Thou shalt surely give him, and thine
heart shall not be grieved when thou givest unto him :
because that for this thing the Lord thy God shall bless
thee in all thy works, and in all that thouputtest thine hand
unto. For the poor shall never cease out qf the land :
therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine
hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy,
in thy land.
SECT. I.
Tlie words explained.
The duty here enjoined, is giving to the poor : " If there
be among you a poor man of one of thy brethren, thou
shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut thine hand from thy
poor brother : — Thou shalt surely give him." Here by
thy poor brother is to be understood the same as in other
places is meant by neighbour. It is explained in Levit.
xxv. 35. to mean not only those of their own nation, but
even strangers and sojourners : " And if thy brother be
waxen poor, and fallen in decay with thee"; then thou
shalt relieve him : yea, though he be a stranger, or a so
journer." The Pharisees indeed interpreted it to signify
only one of their own nation ; but Christ condemns this in
terpretation, Luke x.29, Stc.and teaches, in contradiction to
their opinion, that the rules of charity, in the law of Moses,
are to be extended to the Samaritans, who were not of
their nation, and between whom and the Jews there was
the most bitter enmity, and who were a people very
troublesome to the Jews.
God gives us direction how we are to give in such a case,
viz. bountifully, and willingly. We should give bountifully,
and sufficiently for the supply of the poor's need : ver. 7,
8. " Thou shalt not shut up thine hand from thy poor
brother; but thou shalt open thine hand wide unto him,
m 2

and lend him sufficient for his need, in that which he
wanteth." And again, in ver. 11. " Thou shalt open thine
hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy,
in thy land." Again, we should give willingly and with
out grudging : ver. 7. " Thou shalt not harden thine heart
from thy poor brother;" and ver. 10. " And thine heart
shall not be grieved when thou givest him."
We may also observe how peremptorily this duty is here
enjoined, and how much it is insisted on. It is repeated
over and over again, and enjoined in the strongest terms ;
ver. 7. " Thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut thine
hand from thy poor brother;" ver. 8. " But thou shalt
open thine hand wide unto him ;" ver. 10. " Thou shalt
surely give him;" ver. 11. "I command thee, saying,
Thou shaft open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy
poor, and to thy needy."
Moreover, God strictly warns against objections, ver. 9.
" Beware that there be not a thought in thy wicked heart,
saying, The seventh year, the year of release, is at hand ;
and thine eye be evil against thy poor brother, and thou
givest him nought, and he cry unto the Lord against thee,
and it be sin unto thee." The matter concerning the
seventh year, or year of release, was thus : God had given
Israel a law, that every seventh year should be a year of
release ; that if any man had lent any thing to any of his
poor neighbours, if the latter had not been able to repay it
before that year, the former should release it, and should
not exact it of his neighbour, but give it to him. There
fore God warns the children of Israel against making of
this an objection to helping their poor neighbours, that the
year of release was near at hand ; and it was not likely
that they would be able to refund it again before that
time, and then they should lose it wholly, because then
they would be obliged lo release it. God foresaw that the
wickedness of their hearts would be very ready to make
such an objection ; but very strictly warns them against
it, that they should not be the more backward to supply the
wants of the needy for that, but should be willing to give him :
" Thou shalt be willing to lend, expecting nothing again."
Men are exceedingly apt to make objections against
such duties, which God speaks of here as a manifestation
of the wickedness of their hearts : " Beware that there be
not a thought in thy wicked heart," &c. The warning is
very strict. God doth not only say, Beware that thou do
not actually refuse to give him, but, Beware that thou have
not one objecting thought against it, arising from a back
wardness to liberality. God warns against the beginnings
of uncharitableness in the heart, and against whatever

164

CHARITY EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.

him

tends to a forbearance to give : " And thou give
nought and he cry unto the Lord against thee, and it be
sin unto thee." God warns them, from the guilt which
they would be liable to bring upon themselves hereby.
We may observe here several enforcements of this duty.
There is a" reason of this duty implied in God's calling
him that is needy, our brother : " Thou shalt not shut
thine hand from thy poor brother ;" and ver. 9. " Beware
that thine eye be riot evil against thy poor brother ; ' and
ver. 11 . " Thou shalt open thine hand wide to thy brother."
We are to look upon ourselves as related to all mankind,
but especially to those who are of the visible people of
God. We are to look upon them as brethren, and to treat
them accordingly. We shall be base indeed, if we be not
willing to help a brother in want. — Another enforcement
of this duty is the promise of God, that for this thing he
will bless us in all our works, and in all that we put our
hands unto ; a promise that we shall not lose, but gain by
it, (ver. 10.)— Another is, that we shall never want proper
objects of our charity and bounty: ver. 11. "For the
poor shall never cease out of thy land." This God saith
to the Jewish church ; and the like Christ saith to the
Christian church, Matt. xxvi. 11. "The poor ye have al
ways with you." This is to cut off an excuse that uncharit
able persons would be ready to make for not giving, that
they could find nobody to give to, that they saw none who
needed. God cuts off such an excuse, by telling us, that
he would so order it in his providence, that his people
every where, and in all ages, shall have occasion for the
exercise of that virtue.
From this account the doctrine is obvious, that it is the
absolute and indispensable duty of the people of God, to
give bountifully and willingly for supplying the wants of
the needy  But more particularly,
1 . It is the duty of the people of God, to give bountifully
for the aforesaid purpose. It is commanded once and again
in the text, " Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy
poor brother." Merely to give something is not sufficient ;
it answers not the rule, nor comes up to the holy command
of God ; but we must open our hand wide. What we give,
considering our neighbour's wants, and our ability, should
be such as may be called a liberal gift. What is meant in
the text by opening the hand wide, with respect to those
that are able, is explained in ver. 8. " Thou shalt open
thine hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him suf
ficient for his want, in that which he needeth." By lend
ing here, as is evident by the two following verses, and as
we have just now shown, is not only meant lending to re
ceive again ; the word lend in Scripture is sometimes used
for giving ; as in Luke vi. 35. " Do good and lend, hoping
for nothing again."
We are commanded, therefore, to give our poor neigh
bour what is sufficient for his need. There ought to be
none suffered to live in pinching want, among a visible
people of God, who are able : unless in case of idleness,
or prodigality, or some such case which the word of God
excepts. — It is said that the children of Israel should lend
to the poor, and in the year of release should release what
they had lent, save when tliere should be no poor among
them. It is rendered in the margin, to the end there be no
poor among you ; i. e. you should so supply the wants of
the needy, that there may be none among you in pinching
want. This translation seems the more likely to be the
true one, because God says, ver. 1 1 . that there shall be no
such time when there shall be no poor, who shall be pro
per objects of charity. — WTien persons give very sparingly,
it is no manifestation of charity, but of a contrary spirit :
2 Cor. ix. 5. " Therefore I thought it necessary to exhort
the brethren, that they would go before unto you, and
make up beforehand your bounty, whereof ye had notice
before, that the same might be ready, as a matter of
bounty, and not as of covetousness." The apostle here
calls a very sparing contribution, matter of covetousness.
2. It is the duty ofthe visible people of God, to give
for the supply of the needy, freely, and without grudging.
Tt doth not at all answer the rale in the sight of God, if it
be done with an inward grudging, or if the heart be
grieved, and it inwardly hurt the man to give what he
gives : " Thou shalt surely give," says God, " and thine
heart shall not be grieved." God looks at the heart, and

the hand is not accepted without it : 2 Cor. ix. 7. " Every
man according as he hath purposed in his heart, so let him
give, not grudgingly, or of necessity ; for God loveth a
cheerful giver."
3. This is a duty to which God's people are under very
strict obligations. It is not merely a commendable thing
for a man to be kind and bountiful to the poor, but our
bounden duty, as much a duty as it is to pray, or to attend
public worship, or any thing else whatever ; and the neg
lect of it brings great guilt upon any person.

SECT. II.
Of the obligation of Christians to perform the duty qf
charity to the poor.
This duty is absolutely commanded, and much insisted
on, in the word of God. Where have we any command in
the Bible laid down in stronger terms, and in a more per
emptory urgent manner, than the command of giving to
the poor ? We have the same law in a positive manner
laid down in Levit. xxv. 35, &c. " And if thy brother be
waxen poor, and fallen in decay with thee, then thou
shalt relieve him ; yea, though he be a stranger or a so
journer, that he may live with thee." And at the conclu
sion of ver. 38. God enforces it with saying, lam the Lord
thy God.
It is mentioned in Scripture, not only as a duty, but a
great duty. Indeed it is generally acknowledged to be a
duty, to be kind to the needy ; but by many it seems not
to be looked upon as a duty of great importance. How
ever, it is mentioned in Scripture as one of the greater and
more essential duties of religion : Micah vi. 8. "He hath
showed thee, O man, what is good ; and what doth the
Lord thy God require of thee, but to do justly, to love
mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God ?" Here to
love mercy is mentioned as one of the three great things
that are the sum of all religion. So it is mentioned by the
apostle James, as one of the two things wherein pure and
undefiled religion consists : James i. 27. " Pure religion,
and undefiled, before God and the Father, is this, To visit
the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep
himself unspotted from the world."
So Christ tells us, it is one of the weightier matters of the
law : Matt. xxii. 23. " Ye have omitted the weightier mat
ters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith." The
Scriptures again and again teach us, that it is a more
weighty and essential thing than the attendance on the out
ward ordinances of worship : Hos. vi. 6. " I desired
mercy, and not sacrifice ;" Matt. ix. 13. and xii. 7. I
know of scarce any duty which is so much insisted on, so
pressed and urged upon us, both in the Old Testament
and New, as this duty of charity to the poor.
The reason of the thing strongly obliges to it. It is not
only very positively and frequently insisted on by God,
but it is most reasonable in itseDf ; and so, on this account,
there is reason why God should much insist upon it.
1 . It is most reasonable, considering the general state
and nature of mankind. This is such as renders it most
reasonable that we should love our neighbour as ourselves ;
for men are made in the image of our God, and on this
account are worthy of our love. Besides, we are all nearly
allied one to another by nature. We have all the same
nature, like faculties, like dispositions, like desires of good,
like needs, like aversion to misery, and are made of one
blood ; and we are made to subsist by society and union
one with another. God hath made us with such a nature,
that we cannot subsist without the help of one another.
Mankind in this respect are as the members of the natural
body, one cannot subsist alone, without an union with
and the help of the rest.
Now, this state of mankind shows how reasonable and
suitable it is, that men should love their neighbours ; and
that we should not look every one at his own things, but
every man also at the things of others, Phil. ii. 4. A selfish
spirit is very unsuitable to the nature and state of mankind.
He who is all for himself, and none for his neighbours,
deserves to be cut off from the benefit of human society,
and to be turned out among wild beasts, to subsist by him
self as well as he can. A private niggardly spirit is more

Sect. II.

OBLIGATIONS TO CHARITY.

165

suitable for wolves, and other beasts of prey, than for
human beings.
To love our neighbour as ourselves, is the sum of the
moral law respecting our fellow-creatures; and to help
them, and to contribute to their relief, is the most natural
expression of this love. It is vain to pretend to a spirit of
love to our neighbours, when it is grievous to us to part
with any thing for their help, when under calamity. They
who love only in word, and in tongue, and not in deed,
have no love in truth. Any profession without it is a vain
pretence. To refuse to give to the needy, is unreasonable,
because we therein do to others contrary to what we would
have others to do to us in like circumstances. We are
very sensible of our own calamities ; and when we suffer,
are ready enough to think, that our state requires the com
passion and help of others ; and are ready enough to think
it hard, if others will not deny themselves in order to help
us when in straits.
2. It is especially reasonable, considering our circum
stances, under such a dispensation of grace as that of the
gospel. Consider how much God hath done for us, how
greatly he hath loved us, what he hath given us, when we
were so unworthy, and when he could have no addition to
his happiness by us. Consider that silver, and gold, and
earthly crowns, were in his esteem but mean things to give
us, and he hath therefore given us his own Son. Christ
loved and pitied us, when we were poor, and he laid out
himself to help, and even did shed his own blood for us
without grudging. He did not think much to deny him
self, and to be at great cost for us vile wretches, in order
to make us rich, and to clothe us with kingly robes, when
we were naked ; to feast us at his own table with dainties
infinitely costly, when we were starving ; to advance us
from the dunghill, and set us among princes, and make us
to inherit the throne of his glory, and so to give us the
enjoyment of the greatest wealth and plenty to all eternity ;
agreeably to 2 Cor. viii. 9. " For ye know the grace of our
Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your
sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might
be rich." Considering all these things, what a poor busi
ness will it be, that those who hope to share these benefits,
yet cannot give something for the relief of a poor neigh
bour without grudging ! that it should grieve them to part
with a small matter, to help a fellow-servant in calamity,
when Christ did not grudge to shed his own blood for
them !
How unsuitable is it for us, who live only by kindness,
to be unkind ! What would have become of us, if Christ
had been so saving of his blood, and loth to bestow it, as
many men are of their money or goods ? or if he had
been as ready to excuse himself from dying for us, as men
commonly are to excuse themselves from charity to their
neighbour ? If Christ would have made objections of such
things, as men commonly object to performing deeds of
charity to their neighbour, he would have found enough of
them. Besides, Christ, by his redemption, has brought us into
a more near relation one to another, hath made us children
of God, children in the same family. We are all brethren,
having God for our common Father ; which is much more
than to be brethren in any other family. He hath made
us all one body ; therefore we ought to be united, and sub
serve one another's good, and bear one another's burdens,
as is the case with the members of the same natural body.
If one of the members suffer, all the other members bear
the burden with it, 1 Cor. xii. 26. If one member be
diseased or wounded, the other members of the body will
minister to it, and help it. So surely it should be in the
body of Christ: Gal. vi. 2. "Bear ye one another's
burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.''
Apply these things to yourselves ; and inquire, whether
you do not lie under guilt on account of the neglect of
this duty, in withholding that charity which God requires
of you towards the needy ? You have often been put upon
examining yourselves, whether you do not live in some
way displeasing to God. Perhaps at such times it never
came into your minds, whether you do not lie under guilt
on this account. — But this neglect certainly brings guilt
upon the soul in the sight of God, as is evident by the
text : " Beware that thine eye be not evil against thy poor

brother, and thou givest him nought, and he cry unto the
Lord against thee, and it be sin unto thee," ver. 9. This is
often mentioned as one of the sins of Judah and Jerusa
lem, for which God was about to bring such terrible judg
ments upon them ; and it was one of the sins of Sodom,
for which that city was destroyed, that she did not give to
supply the poor and needy, Ezek. xvi. 49. " This was the
iniquity of thy sister Sodom, pride, fulness of bread, and
abundance of idleness in her, and in her daughters ; nei
ther did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy."
And have we not reason to fear, that much guilt lies
upon this land on this very account? We have a high
conceit of ourselves for religion : but do not many other
countries shame us ? Do not the papists shame us in this
respect ? So far as I can understand the tenor of the chris
tian religion, and the rules of the word of God, the same
are in no measure in this respect answered by the general
practice of most people in this land. There are many who
make a high profession of religion ; but do not many of
them need to be informed by the apostle James, what true
religion is ?
Let every one examine himself, whether he do not lie
under guilt in this matter. Have you not forborne to give,
when you have seen your brother in want ? Have you not
shut up the bowels of your compassion towards him, and
forborne to deny yourselves a little for his relief? Or when
you have given, have you not done it grudgingly ? And
has it not inwardly hurt and grieved you ? You have
looked upon what you have given, as lost : so that what
you have given, has been, as the apostle expresses it, a
matter of covetousness, rather than of bounty. Have not
occasions of giving been unwelcome to you ? Have you
not been uneasy under them ? Have you not felt a con
siderable backwardness to give? Have you not, from a
grudging, backward spirit, been apt to raise objections
against giving, and to excuse yourselves ? Such things as
these bring guilt upon the soul, and often bring down the
curse of God upon the persons in whom these things are
found, as we may show more fully hereafter.

SECT. III.
An exhortation to tlie duty qf charity to the poor.
We are professors of Christianity, we pretend to be the
followers of Jesus, and to make the gospel our rule. We
have the Bible in our houses. Let us not behave ourselves
in this particular, as if we had never seen the Bible, as if
we were ignorant of Christianity, and knew not what kind
of religion it is. What will it signify to pretend to be
Christians, and at the same time to live in the neglect of
those rules of Christianity which are mainly insisted on in
it ? But there are several things which I would here pro
pose to your consideration.
I. Consider that what you have is not your own ; i. e.
you have only a subordinate right. Your goods are only
ient to you of God, to be improved by you in such ways
as he directs. You yourselves are not your own ; 1 Cor.
vi. 20. " Ye are not your own, for ye are bought with a
price ; your body and your spirit are God's." And if you
yourselves are not your own, so then neither are your pos
sessions your own. Many of you have by covenant given
up yourselves and all you have to God. You have dis
owned and renounced any right in yourselves or in any
thing that you have, and have given to God all the abso
lute right ; and if you be true Christians, you have done
it from the heart.
Your money and your goods are not your own ; they
are only committed to you as stewards, to be used for him
who committed them to you; 1 Pet. iv. 9, 10. " Use
hospitality one to another without grudging. As every man
hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to
another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God."
A steward has no business with his master's goods, to use
them any otherwise than for the benefit of his master and
his family, or according to his master's direction. He hath
no business to use them, as if he were the proprietor of
them ; he hath nothing to do with them, only as he is to
use them for his master. He is to give every one of his
master's family their portion of meat in due season.

lob

CHARITY EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.

But if instead of that, he hoards up his master's goods
for himself, and withholds them from those of the house
hold, so that some of the family are pinched for want of
food and clothing; he is therein guilty of robbing his
master and embezzling his substance. And would any
householder endure such a steward? If he discovered
him in such a practice, would he not take his goods out of
his hands, and commit them to the care of some other
steward, who should give every one of his family his por
tion of meat in due season? Remember that all of us
must give account of our stewardship, and how we have
disposed of those goods which our Master has put into
our hands. And if when our Master comes to reckon
with us, it be found that we have denied some of his
family their proper provision, while we have hoarded up
for ourselves, as if we had been the proprietors of our
Master's goods, what account shall we give of this ?
II. God tells us, that he shall look upon what is done
in charity to our neighbours in want, as done unto him ;
and what is denied unto them, as denied unto him. Prov.
xix. 17'. " He that hath pity on the poor lendeth to the
Lord." God hath been pleased to make our needy neigh
bours his receivers. He in his infinite mercy hath so in
terested himself in their case, that he looks upon what is
given in charity to them, as given to himself; and when
we deny them what their circumstances require of us, he
looks upon it that we therein rob him of his right.
Christ teaches us, that we are to look upon our fellow-
Christians in this case as himself, and that our giving or
withholding from them, shall be taken, as if we so be
haved ourselves towards him ; see Matt. xxv. 40. There
Christ says to the righteous on his right hand, who had
supplied the wants of the needy, " In that ye have done it
to one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it
unto me." In like manner he says to the* wicked who
had not shown mercy to the poor, ver. 45. " Inasmuch as
ye did it not unto one of the least of these, ye did it not
to me." — Now what stronger enforcement of this duty can
be conceived, or is possible, than this, that Jesus Christ
looks upon our kind and bountiful, or unkind and un
charitable, treatment of our needy neighbours, as such a
treatment of himself?
If Christ himself were upon earth, and dwelt among us
in a frail body, as he once did, and were in calamitous and
needy circumstances, should we not be willing to supply
him ? Should we be apt to excuse ourselves from helping
him ? Should we not be willing to supply him so, that
he might live free from distressing poverty ? And if we
did otherwise, should we not bring great guilt upon our
selves ? And might not our conduct justly be very highly
resented by God ? Christ was once here in a frail body,
stood in need of the charity, and was maintained by it ;
Luke viii. 2, 3. " And certain women which had been
healed of evil spirits and infirmities, Mary called Mag
dalen, out of whom went seven devils, and Joanna the
wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many
others, which ministered unto him of their substance."
So he still, in many of his members, needs the charity of
others. III. Consider that there is an absolute necessity of our
complying with the difficult duties of religion. To give
to the poor in the manner and measure that the gospel
prescribes, is a difficult duty, i. e. it is very contrary to
corrupt nature, to that covetousness and selfishness of
which there is so much in the wicked heart of man. Man
is naturally governed only by a principle of self-love ; and
it is a difficult thing to corrupt nature, for men to deny
themselves of their present interest, trusting in God to
make it up to them hereafter.— But how often hath Christ
told us the necessity of doing difficult duties of religion, if
we will be his disciples ; that we must sell all, take up
our cross daily, deny ourselves, renounce our worldly
profits and interests, &c. And if this duty seem hard and
difficult to you, let not that be an objection with you
against doing it; for you have taken up quite a wrong
notion of things, if you expect to go to heaven without
performing difficult duties ; if you expect any other than
to find the way to life a narrow way.
IV. The Scripture teaches us, that this very particular
duty is necessary. Particularly,

1 . The Scripture teaches, that God will deal with us as
we deal with our fellow-creatures in this particular, and
that with what measure we mete to others in this respect,
God will measure to us again. This the Scripture asserts
both ways ; it asserts that if we be of a merciful spirit,
God will be merciful to us : Matt. v. 7. " Blessed are the
merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." Ps. xviii. 25.
" With the merciful thou wilt show thyself merciful." On
the other hand it tells us, that if we be not merciful, God
will not be merciful to us ; and that all our pretences to
feith and a work of conversion will not avail us, to obtain
mercy, unless we be merciful to them that are in want.
James ii. 13 — 16. " For he shall have judgment without
mercy, that hath showed no mercy. — What doth it profit,
my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not
works ? can feith save him ? If a brother or sister be
naked, and destitute of daily food; and one of you say
unto them, Depart in peace, be you warmed, and filled ;
notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are
needful to the body; what doth it profit?"
2. This very thing is often mentioned in Scripture, as
an essential part of the character of a godly man; Ps.
xxxvii. 21. " The righteous showeth mercy, and giveth;"
and again, ver. 26. " He is ever merciful, and lendeth."
Psal. cxii. 5. " A good man showeth favour, and lendeth :"
and ver. 9. " He hath dispersed, and given to the poor."
So Prov. xiv. 31. " He that honoureth God, hath mercy
on the poor." Again, Prov. xxi. 26. and Isa. lvii. 1. A
righteous man and a merciful man are used as synonymous
terms : " The righteous perisheth, and merciful men are
taken away," &c.
It is mentioned in the New Testament as a thing so
essential, that the contrary cannot consist with a sincere
love to God. 1 John iii. 17 — 19. " But whoso hath this
world's goods, and seeth his brother have need, and shut
teth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth
the love of God in him ? My little children, let us not
love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and in truth.
And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall
assure our hearts before him." So the apostle Paul, when
he writes to the Corinthians, and proposes their contribut
ing for the supply of the poor saints, tells them what he
doth it for, viz. atrial of their sincerity : see 2 Cor. viii. 8.
" I speak to prove the sincerity of your love."
3. Christ teaches, that judgment will be past at the
great day according to men's works in this respect. This is
taught us by Christ in the most particular account of the pro
ceedings of that day, that we have in the whole Bible ; see
Matt. xxv. 34, &c. It is evident that Christ thus repre
sented the proceedings and determinations of this great
day, as turning upon this one point, on purpose, and on
design to lead us into this notion, and to fix it in us, that
a charitable spirit and practice towards our brethren is
necessary to salvation.
V. Consider what abundant encouragement the word of
God gives, that you shall be no losers by your charity and
bounty to them who are in want. As there is scarce any
duty prescribed in the word of God, which is so much in
sisted on as this ;_so there is scarce any to which there are
so many promises of reward made. This virtue especially
hath the promises of this life and that which is to come.
If we believe the Scriptures, when a man charitably gives
to his neighbour in want, the giver has the greatest ad
vantage by it, even greater than the receiver : Acts xx. 35.
" I have showed you all things, how that so labouring ye
ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of
the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to
give than to receive." He that gives bountifully is a
happier man than he that receives bountifully ; Prov.
xiv. 21. " He that hath mercy on the poor, happy
is he."
Many persons are ready to look upon what is bestowed
for charitable uses as lost. But we ought not to look
upon it as lost, because it benefits those whom we ought
to love as ourselves. And not only so, but it is not lost to
us, if we give any credit to the Scriptures. See the advice
that Solomon gives in Eccl. xi. 1. " Cast thy bread upon
the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days." By
casting our bread upon the waters, Solomon means giving
it lo the poor, as appears by the next words, " Give a

Sect. III.

AN EXHORTATION TO CHARITY.

167

portion to seven, and also to eight." Waters are some
times put for people and multitudes.
What strange advice would this seem to many, to cast
their bread upon the waters, which would seem to them
like throwing it away ! What more direct method to lose
our bread, than to go and throw it into the sea ? But the
wise man tells us, No, it is not lost ; you shall find it again
after many days. It is not sunk, but you commit it to
Providence ; you commit it to the winds and waves :
however it will come about to you, and you shall find it
again after many days. Though it should be many days
first, yet you shall find it at last, at a time when you most
need it. He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord :
and God is not one of those who will not pay again what is
lent to him. If you lend any thing to God, you commit
it into faithful hands. Prov. xix. 17. " He that hath pity
on the poor lendeth to the Lord, and that which he hath
given will he pay him again." God will not only pay you
again, but he will pay you with great increase ; Luke vi.
38. " Give, and it shall be given you," that is, in " good
measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running
over." Men do not account that lost, that is let out to use : but
what is bestowed in charity is lent to the Lord, and he
repays with great increase. Isa. xxxii. 8. " The liberal
deviseth liberal things, and by liberal things shall he
stand." Here I would particularly observe,
1 . That if you give with a spirit of true charity, you
shall be rewarded in what is infinitely more valuable than
what you give ; even eternal riches in heaven. Matt. a.
42. " Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these
little ones, a cup of cold water only, in the name of a dis
ciple ; verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his
reward." Giving to our needy brethren, is in Scripture called lay
ing up treasure in heaven, in bags that wax not old ; Luke
xii. 33. " Sell what ye have and give alms, provide for
yourselves bags that wax not old, a treasure in the heavens
that faileth not, where no thief approacheth, nor moth cor-
rupteth. Men, when they have laid up their money in
their chests, do not suppose that they have thrown it
away ; but, on the contrary, that it is laid up safe. Much
less is treasure thrown away, when it is laid up in heaven.
What is laid up there is much safer than what is laid up in
chests or cabinets.
You cannot lay up treasure on earth, but that it is liable
to be stolen, or otherwise to fail. But there uo thief ap
proacheth nor moth corrupteth. It is committed to God's
care, and he will keep it safely for you ; and when you die,
you shall receive it with infinite increase. Instead of a
part of your earthly substance thus bestowed, you shall
receive heavenly riches, on which you may live in the
greatest fulness, honour, and happiness, to all eternity ;
and shall never be in want of any thing. After feeding
with some of your bread those who cannot recompense
you, you shall be rewarded at the resurrection, and eat
bread in the kingdom of God. Luke xiv. 13 — 16. " When
thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame,
and the blind : and thou shalt be blessed ; for they cannot
recompense thee : for thou shalt be recompensed at the
resurrection of the just. And when one of them that sat
at meat with him, heard these things, he said unto him,
Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God."
2. If you give to the needy though but in the exercise
of moral virtue, you will be m the way greatly to gain by
it in your temporal interest. They who give in the exer
cise of a gracious charity, are in the way to be gainers both
here and nereafter ; and those that give in the exercise of a
moral bounty and liberality, have many temporal promises
made to them. We learn by the word of God, that they
are in the way to be prospered in their outward affairs.
Ordinarily such do not lose by it, but such a blessing at
tends their concerns, that they are paid doubly for it:
Prov. xi. 24, 25. " There is that scattereth, and yet in-
creaseth ; there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but
it tendeth to poverty. The liberal soul shall be made fat :
and he that watereth, shall be watered also himself." And
Prov. xxviii. 27. " He that giveth to the poor, shall not lack."
When men give to the needy, they do as it were sow
seed for a crop. When_men sow their seed, they seem to

throw it away ; yet they do not look upon it as thrown
away ; because, though they expect not the same again,
yet they expect much more as the fruit of it : and if it be
not certain that they shall have a crop, yet they are willing
to run the venture of it; for that is the ordinary way
wherein men obtain increase. So it is when persons give
to the poor ; though the promises of gaining thereby, in
our outward circumstances, perhaps are not absolute ; yet
it is as much the ordinary consequence of it, as increase is
of sowing seed. Giving to the poor, is in this respect
compared to sowing seed, in Eccl. xi. 6. " In the morning
sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand :
for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or
that, or whether they both shall be alike good." By with
holding the hand, the wise man means, not giving to the
poor. (See ver. 1, 2.) It intimates, that giving to the
poor is as likely a way to obtain prosperity and increase,
as sowing seed in a field.
The husbandman doth not look upon his seed as lost,
but is glad that he has opportunity to sow it. It grieves
him not that he has land to be sown, but he rejoices in it.
For the like reason we should not be grieved that we find
needy people to bestow our charity upon; for this is as
much an opportunity to obtain increase as the other.
Some may think this is strange doctrine ; and it is to be
feared, that not many will so far believe it as to give to the
poor with as much cheerfulness as they sow their ground.
However, it is the very doctrine of the word of God,
2 Cor. ix. 6, 7, 8. " But this I say, He which soweth
sparingly, shall reap also sparingly : and he which soweth
bountifully, shall reap also bountifully. Every man ac
cording as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give ; not
grudgingly, or of necessity : for God loveth a cheerful
giver. And God is able to make all grace abound towards
you ; that ye always having all sufficiency in all things,
may abound to every good work."
It is easy with God to make up to men what they give
in charity. Many but little consider how their prosperity
or ill success in their outward affairs depends upon Provi
dence. There are a thousand turns of Providence, to
which their affairs are liable, whereby God may either add
to their outward substance, or diminish from it, a great
deal more than they are ordinarily called to give to their
neighbours. How easy is it with God to diminish what
they possess by sickness in their families, by drought, or
frost, or mildew, or vermin ; by unfortunate accidents, by
entanglements in their affairs, or disappointments in their
business ! And how easy is it with (tod to increase their
substance, by suitable seasons, or by health and strength ;
by giving them fair opportunities for promoting their inte
rest in their dealings with men ; by conducting them in his
providence, so that they attain their designs ; and by in
numerable other ways which might be mentioned ! How
often is it, that only one act of providence in a man's affairs
either adds to his estate, or diminishes from it, more than
he would need to give to the poor in a whole year.
God hath told us, that this is the way to have his
blessing attending our affairs. Thus, in the text, ver.
10. " Thou shalt surely give him, and thine heart shall
not be grieved when thou givest unto him ; because that
for this thing the Lord thy God shall bless thee in all thy
works, and in all that thou puttest thine hand unto ;"
and Prov. xxii. 9. " He that hath a bountiful eye, shall be
blessed." It is a remarkable evidence how little many
men realize the things of religion, whatever they pretend ;
how little they realize that the Scripture is the word of
God, or if it be, that he speaks true ; that notwithstanding
all the promises made in the Scripture to bounty to the
poor, yet they are so backward to this duty, and are so
afraid to trust God with a little of their estates. Observa
tion may confirm the same thing which the word of God
teaches on this head. God, in his providence, generally
smiles upon and prospers those men who are of a liberal,
charitable, bountiful spirit.
6. God hath threatened to follow with his curse those
who are uncharitable to the poor; as Prov. xxviii. 27.
" He that giveth to the poor shall not lack ; but he that
hideth his eyes, shall have many a curse." It is said, he that
hideth his eyes, because this is the way of uncharitable men ;
they hide their eyes from seeing the wants of their neigh-

168

CHARITY EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.

hour. A charitable person, whose heart disposes him to
bounty and liberality, will be quick-sighted to discern the
needs of others. They will not be at any difficulty to find
out who is in want ; they will see objects enough of their
charity, let them go whither they will.
But, on the contrary, he that is of a niggardly spirit, so
that it goes against the grain to give any thing, he will be
always at a loss for objects of his charity. Such men ex
cuse themselves with this, that they find not any one to
give to. They hide their eyes, and will not see their
neighbour's wants. If a particular object is presented,
they will not very readily see his circumstances ; they are
a long while in being convinced that he is an object of
charity. They hide their eyes; and it is not an easy
thing to make them sensible of the necessities and dis
tresses of their neighbour, or at least to convince them,
that his necessities are such that they ought to give him
any great matter.
Other men, who are of a bountiful spirit, can very easily
see the objects of charity; but the uncharitable are very
unapt both to see the proper objects of charity, and to see
their obligations to this duty. The reason is, that they are
of that sort spoken of here by the wise man, they hide
their eyes. Men will readily see, where they are willing
to see ; but where they hate to see, they will hide their
eyes. God says, such as hides his eyes in this case shall have
many acurse. Such an one is in the way to be cursed in soul
and body, in both his spiritual and temporal affairs. We
have shown already, how those that are charitable to the
poor are in the way of being blessed. There are so many
promises ofthe divine blessing, that we may look upon it as
much the way to be blessed in our outward concerns, as
sowing-seed in a field is the way to have increase. And
to be close and uncharitable, is as much the way to be fol
lowed with a curse, as to be charitable is the way to be
followed with a blessing. To withhold more than is meet,
tends as much to poverty, as scattering tends to increase,
Prov. xi. 24. Therefore, if you withhold more than is
meet, you will cross your own disposition, and will frus
trate your own end. What you seek by withholding from
your neighbour, is your own temporal interest and outward
estate ; but if you believe the Scriptures to be the word of
God, you must believe that you cannot take a more direct
course to lose, to be crossed and cursed in your temporal
interest, than this of withholding from your indigent
neighbour. 7. Consider, that you know not what calamitous and
necessitous circumstances you yourselves or your children
may be in. Perhaps you are ready to bless yourselves
in your hearts, as though there were no danger of your
being brought into calamitous and distressing circum
stances. There is at present no prospect of it ; and you
hope you shall be able to provide well for your children.
But you little consider what a shifting, changing, uncer
tain world you live in, and how often it hath so happened,
that men have been reduced from the greatest prosperity to
the greatest adversity, and how often the children of the
rich nave been reduced to pinching want.
Agreeable to this is the advice that the wise man gives
us, Eccles. xi. 1,2." Cast thy bread upon the waters ; for
thou shalt find it after many days. Give a portion to seven,
and also to eight ; for thou knowest not what evil shall be
upon earth." Thou knowest not what calamitous circum
stances thou mayest be in thyself, in this changeable uncer
tain world. You know not what circumstances you or
your children may be brought into by captivity, or other
unthought-of providences. Providence governs all things.
Perhaps you may trust to your own wisdom to continue
your prosperity ; but you cannot alter what God deter
mines and orders in providence, as in the words imme
diately following the fore-mentioned text in Ecclesiastes,
" If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves
upon the earth ; and if the tree fall toward the south, or
toward the north ; in the place where the tree falleth, there
it shall be ;" i. e. you cannot alter the determinations of Pro
vidence. You may trust to your own wisdom for future
prosperity ; but if God have ordained adversity, it shall
¦ The author repeatedly brings in this idea, doubtless because North
ampton, tbe place where the author lived, was at that time a frontier-town,

come: as the clouds when full of rain, empty themselves
upon the earth ; so what is in the womb of Providence
shall surely come to pass. And as Providence casts the
tree, whether towards the south, or towards the north,
whether for prosperity or adversity, there it shall be, for
all that you can do to alter it ; agreeably to what the wise
man observes in chap. vii. 13. " Consider the work of
God ; for who can make that straight which he hath made
crooked ?"
This consideration, lhat you know not what calamity and
necessity you may be in yourselves or your children, tends
very powerfully to enforce this duty several ways.
1. This may put you upon considering how your hearts
would be effected, if it should so be. If it should happen,
that you or some of your children should be brought into
such circumstances, as those of your neighbours, how
grievous would it be to you ! Now perhaps you say of this
and the other poor neighbour, that they can do well
enough; if they be pinched a little, thev can live. Thus
you can make iight of their difficulties. But if Providence
should so order it, that you or your children should be
brought into the same circumstances, would you make
light of them then ? Would you not use another sort of
language about it ? Would you not think that your case
was such as needed the kindness of your neighbours?
Would you not think that they ought to be ready to help
you? And would you not take it hardly, if you saw a
contrary spirit in them, and saw that they made light of
your difficulties ?
If one of your children should be brought to poverty by
captivity,* or otherwise, how would your hearts be affected
in such a case? If you should hear that some persons had
taken pity on your child, and had been very bountiful to it,
would you not think that they did well ? Would you be
at all apt to accuse them of folly or profuseness, that they
should give so much to it ?
2. If ever there should be such a time, your kindness to
others now will be but a laying up against such a time. If
you yourselves should be brought into calamity and neces
sity, then would you find what you have given in charity
to others, lying ready in store for you. Cast thy bread
upon the waters, and thou shalt find it after manv days,
says the wise man. But when shall we find it ? He tells
us in the next verse ; " Give a portion to seven, and also
to eight ; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the
earth." Then is the time when you shall find it, when the
dav of evil cometh. You shail again find your bread
which you have cast upon the waters, when you shall want
it most, and stand in greatest necessity of it. God will
keep it for you against such a time. When other bread
shall fail, then God will bring to you the bread which you
formerly cast upon the waters ; so that you shall not
famish. He that giveth to the poor shall not lack.
Giving to the needy is like laying up against winter, or
against a time of calamity. It is the best way of laying up
for yourselves and for your children. Children in a time of
need very often find their fathers' bread, that bread which
their fathers had cast upon the waters. Psal. xxxvii. 25.
" I have been young and now am old, yet have I not seen
the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread." Why ?
what is the reason of it ? It follows in the next verse,
" He is ever merciful and lendeth, and his seed is blessed."
Whether the time will ever come or not, that we or our
children shall be in distressing want of bread ; yet doubt
less evil will be on the earth. We shall have our times of
calamity, wherein we shall stand in great need of God's
pity and help, if not of that of our fellow-creatures. And
God hath promised that at such a time, he that hath been
of a charitable spirit and practice, shall find help, Psal. xii.
1 — 4. " Blessed is he that considereth the poor ; the Lord
will deliver him in time of trouble. The Lord will pre
serve him, and keep him alive, and he shall be blessed
upon the earth ; and thou wilt not deliver him unto the
will of his enemies. The Lord will strengthen him upon
the bed of languishing : thou wilt make all his bed in his
sickness." Such as have been merciful and liberal to
others in their distress, God will not forget it, but will so
order it, that they shall have help when they are in distress.
and suffered much by the incursions of the Indians from Canada, wbo
slaughtered and captivated the people, as tbey found opportunity.

Sect. IV.

OBJECTIONS TO CHARITY, ANSWERED.

169

Yea, their children shall reap the fruit of it in the day of
trouble. 3. God hath threatened uncharitable persons, that if ever
they come to be in calamity and distress they shall be left
helpless; Prov. xxi. 3. " Whoso stoppeth his ears at the
cry of the poor, he shall cry himself and not be heard."
SECT. IV.
Objections which are sometimes made to the exercise of
charity, answered.
I proceed now to answer some objections, which are
sometimes made against this duty.
Object. I. I am in a natural condition, and if I should
give to the poor, I should not do it with a right spirit, and
so should get nothing by it. — To this I answer,
1. We have shown already that a temporal blessing is
promised to a moral bounty and liberality. This is the
way to be prospered ; this is the way to increase. We
find in Scripture many promises of temporal blessings
to moral virtues ; as to diligence in our business, to
justice in our dealings, to faithfulness, to temperance..
So there are many blessings promised to bounty and
liberality. 1. You may as well make the same objection againstany
other duty of religion. You may as well object against
keeping the sabbath, against prayer, or public worship, or
against doing any thing at all in religion ; for while in a
natural condition, you do not any of these duties with a
right spirit. If you say, you do these duties because God
hath commanded or required them of you, and you shall
sin greatly if you neglect them ; you shall increase your
guilt ; and so expose yourselves to the greater damnation
and punishment. The same may be said ofthe neglect of
this duty ; the neglect of it is as provoking to God.
If you say that you read, and pray, and attend public
worship, because that is the appointed way for you to seek
salvation ; so is bounty to the poor, as much as those. —
The appointed way for us to seek the favour of God and
eternal life, is the way of the performance of all known
duties, of which giving to the poor is one as much known,
and as necessary, as reading the Scriptures, praying, or any
other. Showing mercy to the poor does as much belong to
the appointed way of seeking salvation, as any other duty
whatever. Therefore this is the way in which Daniel di
rected Nebuchadnezzar to seek mercy, in Dan. iv. 27.
" Wherefore, O king, let my counsel be acceptable to
thee, and break off thy sins by righteousness, and thine ini
quities by showing mercy to the poor."
Object. II. If I be liberal and bountiful, I shall only
make a righteousness of it, and so it will do me more hurt
than good. To this I say,
1. The same answer may be made to this, as to the
former objection, viz. That you may as well make the same
objection against doing any religious or moral duty at all.
If this be a sufficient objection against deeds of charity, then
it is a sufficient objection to prayer ; for nothing is more
common than for persons to make a righteousness of their
prayers. So it is a good objection against your keeping
the sabbath, or attending any public worship, or ever read
ing in the Bible ; for of all these things you are in danger
of making a righteousness. — Yea, if the objection be good
against deeds of charity, then it is as good against acts of
justice ; and you may neglect to speak the truth, may neg
lect to pay your debts, may neglect acts of common hu
manity ; for of all those things you are in danger of mak
ing a righteousness. So that if your objection be good,
you may throw up all religion, and live like heathens or
atheists, and may be thieves, robbers, fornicators, adulter
ers, murderers, and commit all the sins that you can think
of, lest if you should do otherwise, you should make a
righteousness of your conduct.
2. Your objection carries it thus, that it is not best for
you to do as God commands and counsels you to do. We
find many commands in Scripture to be charitable to the
poor ; the Bible is full of them ; and you are not excepted
from those commands. God makes no exception of any
particular kinds of persons that are especially in danger of
making a righteousness of what they do; and God often

directs and counsels persons to this duty. Now will you
presume to say that God has not directed you to the best
way ? He has advised you to do thus ; but you think it not
best for you, but that it would do you more hurt than good,
if you should do it. You think there is other counsel bet
ter than God's, and that it is the best way for you to go
contrary to God's commands.
Object. III. I have in times past given to the poor, but
never found myself the better for it. I have heard minis
ters preach, that giving to the poor was the way to pros
per : but I perceive not that I am more prosperous than I
was before. — Yea, I have met with many misfortunes,
crosses, and disappointments in my affairs since. And it
may be that some will say, That very year, or soon after the
very time, I had been giving to the poor, hoping to be
blessed for it, I met with great losses, and things went
hardly with me ; and therefore I do not find what I hear
preached about giving to the poor, as being the way to be
blessed and prosperous, agreeable to my experience.
To this objection I shall answer several things :
1. Perhaps you looked out for the fulfilment of the pro
mise too soon, before you had fulfilled the condition ; as
particularly, perhaps you have been so sparing and grudg
ing in your kindness to the poor, that what you have done
has been rather a discovery of a covetous, niggardly spirit,
than of any bounty or liberality. The promises are not
made to every man who gives any thing at all to the poor,
let it be ever so little, and after what manner soever given.
You mistook the promises, if you understood them so. A
man may give something to the poor, and yet be entitled
to no promise, either temporal or spiritual. The promises
are made to mercy and liberality. But a man may give
something, and yet be so niggardly and grudging in it, that
what he gives may be, as the apostle calls it, a matter of
covetousness. What he does may be more a manifesta
tion of his covetousness and closeness, than any thing else.
But there are no promises made to men's expressing their
covetousness. Perhaps what you gave was not freely given, but as it
were of necessity. It was grudgingly; your hearts were
grieved when you gave. And if you gave once or twice
what was considerable, yet that doth not answer the rule.
It may be, for all that, that in the general course of your
lives you have been far from being kind and liberal to your
neighbours. Perhaps you thought that because you once
or twice gave a few shillings to the poor, that then you
stood entitled to the promises of being blessed in all your
concerns, and of increasing and being established by liberal
things; though in the general you have lived in a faulty
neglect ofthe duty of charity. You raise objections from
experience, before you have made trial. To give once, or
twice, or thrice, is not to make trial, though you give con
siderably. You cannot make any trial, unless you become
a liberal person, or unless you become such that you may
be truly said to be of a liberal and bountiful practice. Let
one who is truly such, and has been such in the general
course of his life, tell what he hath found by experience.
2. If you have been liberal to the poor, and have met
with calamities since, yet how can you tell how much greater
calamities and losses you might have met with, if you had
been otherwise ? You say you have met with crosses, and
disappointments, and frowns. If you expected to meet
with no trouble in the world, because you gave to Ihe poor,
you mistook the matter. Though there be many and great
promises made to the liberal, yet God hath no where pro
mised, thai they shall not find this world a world of trou
ble. It will be so to all. Man is born to sorrow, and must
expect no other than to meet with sorrow here. But how
can you tell how much greater sorrow you would have met
with, if you had been close and unmerciful to the poor?
how can you tell how much greater losses you would have
met with? how much more vexation and trouble would
have followed you? Have none ever met with greater
frowns in their outward affairs, than you have ?
3. How can you tell what blessings God bath yet in
reserve for you, if you do but continue in well-doing ? Al
though God hath promised great blessings to liberality to
the poor, yet he hath not limited himself as to the time ofthe
bestowment. If you have not yet seen any evident fruit of
your kindness to the poor, yet the time may come when

170

CHARITY EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.

you shall see it remarkably, and that at a time when you
most stand in need of it. You cast your bread upon tlie
waters, and looked for it, and expected to find it again
presently. And sometimes it is so ; but this is not pro
mised : it is promised, " Thou shalt find it again after
many days." God knows how to choose a time for you,
better than you yourselves. You should therefore wait his
time. If you go on in well-doing, God may bring it to
you when you stand most in need.
It may be that there is some winter a-coming, some day
of trouble ; and God keeps your bread for you against that
time ; and then God will give you good measure, and
pressed down, and shaken together, and running over.
We must trust in God's word for the bestowment of the
promised reward, whether we can see in what manner it is
done or no. Pertinent to the present purpose are those
words of the wise man in Eccles. xi. 4. " He that ob
served! the winds shall not sow ; and he that regardeth the
clouds shall not reap." In this context the wise man is
speaking of charity to the poor, and comparing it to sow
ing seed ; and advises us to trust Providence for success
in that, as we do in sowing seed. He that regardeth the
winds and clouds, to prognosticate thence prosperity to
seed, and will not trust Providence with it, is not like to
sow, nor to have bread-corn. So he that will not trust
Providence for the reward of his charity to the poor, is like
to go without the blessing. After the words now quoted,
follows his advice, ver. 6. "In the morning sow thy
seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand ; for
thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or
that, or whether they both shall be alike good." — There
fore, (Gal. vi. 9.) " Let us not be weary in well doing ; for
in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." You think
you have not reaped yet. Whether you have or not, go
on still in giving and doing good ; and if you do so, you
shall reap in due time. God only knows the due time,
the best time, for you to reap.
Object. IV. Some may object against charity to such or
such particular persons, that they are not obliged to give
them any thing ; for though they be needy, yet they are
not in extremity. It is true they meet with difficulty, yet
not so but that they can live, though they suffer some
hardships. — But,
It doth not answer the rules of christian charity, to
relieve those only who are reduced to extremity, as might
be abundantly shown. I shall at this time mention but
two things as evidences of it.
1 . We are commanded to love and treat one another as
brethren : 1 Pet. iii. 8. " Have compassion one of another;
love as brethren ; be pitiful." Now, is it the part of bre
thren to refuse to help one another, and to do any thing
for each other's comfort, and for the relief of each other's
difficulties, only when they are in extremity ? Doth it not
become brothers and sisters to have a more friendly dis
position one towards another, than this comes to ? and to
be ready to compassionate one another under difficulties,
though they be not extreme ?
The rule of the gospel is, that when we see our brother
under any difficulty or burden, we should be ready to
bear the burden with him: Gal. vi. 2. ¦" Bear ye one
another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." So
we are commanded, " by love to serve one another," Gal.
v. 13. The christian spirit will make us apt to sympathize
with our neighbour, when we see him under any difficulty :
Rom. xii. 15. " Rejoice with theni that do rejoice, and
weep with them that weep." When our neighbour is in
difficulty, he is afflicted ; and we ought to have such a spirit
of love to him, as to be afflicted with him in his affliction.
And if we ought to be afflicted with him, then it will
follow, that we ought to be ready to relieve him ; because,
if we are afflicted with him, in relieving him we relieve
ourselves. His relief is so fer our own relief, as his
affliction is our affliction. Christianity teaches us to be
afflicted in our neighbour's affliction ; and nature teaches
us to relieve ourselves when afflicted.
We should behave ourselves one towards another as
brethren that are fellow-travellers; for we are pilgrims
and strangers here on earth, and are on a journey. Now,
if brethren be on a journey together, and one meet with
difficulty in the way, doth it not become the rest to help

him, not only in the extremity of broken bones, or the
like, but as to provision for the journey if his own fall
short ? It becomes his fellow-travellers to afford him a
supply out of their stores, and not to be over nice, exact,
arid fearful lest they give him too much : for it is but
provision for a journey ; and all are supplied when they
get to their journey's end.
2. That we should relieve our neighbour only when in
extremity, is not agreeable to the rule of loving our neigh
bour as ourselves. That rule implies that our love towards
our neighbour should work in the same manner, and
express itself in the same ways, as our love towards our
selves. We are very sensible of our own difficulties ; we
should also be readily sensible of theirs. From love to
ourselves, when we are under difficulties, and suffer hard
ships, we are concerned for our relief, are wont to seek
relief, and lay ourselves out for it. — And as we would love
our neighbour as ourselves, we ought in like manner to be
concerned when our neighbour is under difficulty, and to
seek his relief. We are wont to be much concerned about
our own difficulties, though we be not reduced to extre
mity, and are willing in those cases to lay ourselves out
for our own relief. So, as we would love our neighbour
as ourselves, we should in like manner lay out ourselves
to obtain relief for him, though his difficulties be not
extreme. Object. V. Some may object against charity to a parti
cular object, because he is an ill sort of person ; he de
serves not that people should be kind to him ; he is of a
very ill temper, of an ungrateful spirit, and particularly,
because he hath not deserved well of them, but has treated
them ill, has been injurious to them, and even now enter
tains an ill spirit against them.
But we are obliged to relieve persons in want, notwith
standing these things, both by the general and particular
rules of God's word.
1 . We are obliged to do so by the general rules of
Scripture. I shall mention two.
(1 .) That of loving our neighbour as ourselves. A man
may be our neighbour, though he be an ill sort of man, and
even our enemy, as Christ himself teaches us by his dis
course with the lawyer, Luke x. 25, &c. A certain lawyer
came to Christ, and asked him, what he should do to
inherit eternal life ? Christ asked him, how it was written
in the law ? He answers, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all
thy strength, and with all thy mind ; and thy neighbour as
thyself." Christ tells him, that if he shall do thus, he shall
live. But then the lawyer asks him, who is his neigh
bour ? because it was a received doctrine among the
Pharisees, that no man was their neighbour, but their
friends, and those of the same people and religion. — Christ
answers him by a parable, or story of a certain man, who
went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among
thieves, who stripped him of his raiment, and wounded
him, and departed from him, leaving him half dead. Soon
after there came a priest that way, who saw the poor man
that had been thus cruelly treated by the thieves ; but
passed by without affording him any relief. The same was
done by a Levite. — But a certain Samaritan coming that
way, as soon as he saw the half-dead man, had compassion
on him, took him up, bound up his wounds, set him on
his own beast, carried him to the inn, and took care of
him, paying the innkeeper money for his past and future
expense ; and promising him still more, if he should find
it necessary to be at more expense on behalf of the man.
Then Christ asks the lawyer, which of these three, the
priest, the Levite, or the Samaritan, was neighbour to the
man that fell among the thieves. Christ proposed this in
such a manner, that the lawyer could not help owning,
that the Samaritan did well in relieving the Jew, that he
did the duty of a neighbour to him. Now, there was an
inveterate enmity between the Jews and the Samaritans.
They hated one another more than any other nation in the
worid; and the Samaritans were a people exceedingly
troublesome to the Jews ; yet we see that Christ teaches,
that the Jews ought to do the part of neighbours to the
Samaritans ; i. e. to love them as themselves ; for it was
that of which Christ was speaking.
And the consequence was plain. If the Samaritan was

Sect. IV.

OBJECTIONS TO CHARITY, ANSWERED.

171

neighbour to the distressed Jew, then the Jews, by a parity
of reason, were neighbours to the Samaritans. If the Sa
maritan did well, in relieving a Jew that was his enemy ;
then the Jews would do well in relieving the Samaritans,
their enemies. — What I particularly observe is, that Christ
here plainly teaches, that our enemies, those that abuse
and injure us, are our neighbours, and therefore come under
the rule of loving our neighbour as ourselves.
(2.) Another general rule that obliges us to the same
thing, is that wherein we are commanded to love one
another, as Christ hath loved us. We have it John xiii.
34. " A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love
one another ; as I have loved you, that ye also love one
another." Christ calls it anew commandment, with respect
to that old commandment of loving our neighbour as our
selves. This command of loving our neighbour as Christ
hath loved us, opens our duty lo us in a new manner, and
in a further degree than that did. We must not only love
our neighbour as ourselves, but as Christ hath loved us.
We have the same again, John xv. 12. " This is my com
mandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you."
Now, the meaning of this is, not that we should love
one another to the same degree that Christ loved us ;
though there ought to be a proportion, considering our na
ture and capacity ; but that we should exercise our love
one to another in like manner. As, for instance, Christ
hath loved us so as to be willing to deny himself, and
lo suffer greatly, in order to help us ; so should
we be willing to deny ourselves, in order to help one
another. Christ loved us, and showed us great .kind
ness though we were fer below him ; so should we show
kindness to those of our fellow-men who are far below us.
Christ denied himself to help us, though we are not able to
recompense him ; so should we be willing today out our
selves to help our neighbour, freely expecting nothing again.
Christ loved us, was kind to us, and was willing to relieve
us, though we were very evil and hateful, of an evil dis
position, not deserving any good, but deserving only to be
hated, and treated with indignation ; so we should be will
ing to be kind to those who are of an ill disposition, and
are very undeserving. Christ loved us, and laid himself
out to relieve us, though we were his enemies, and had
treated him ill ; so we, as we would love one another as
Christ hath loved us, should relieve those who are our
enemies, hate us, have an ill spirit toward us, and have
treated us ill.
2. We are obliged to this duty by many particular„ru\es.
We are particularly required to be kind to the unthankful
and to the evil ; and therein to follow the example of out-
heavenly Father, who causes his sun to rise on the evil and
on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the un
just. We are obliged, not only to be kind to them that
are so to us, but to them that hate, and that despitefully
use us. I need not mention the particular places which
speak to this effect.
Not but that when persons are virtuous and pious, and
of a grateful disposition, and are friendly disposed towards
us, they are more the objects of our charity for it, and our
obligation to kindness to them is the greater. Yet if things
be otherwise, that doth not render them not fit objects of
our charity, nor set us free from obligation to kindness
towards them.
Object. VI. Some may object from their own circum
stances, that they have nothing to spare ; they have not
more than enough for themselves. — I answer,
1. It must doubtless be allowed that in some cases per
sons, by reason of their own circumstances, are not obliged
to give to others. — For instance, if there be a contribution
for the poor, they are not obliged to join in the contribution,
who are in as much need as those are for whom the con
tribution is made. It savours of ridiculous vanity in them
to contribute with others for such as are not more needy
than they. It savours of a proud desire to conceal their
own circumstances, and an affectation of having them ac
counted above what they in truth are.
2. There are scarcely any who may not make this objec
tion, as they interpret it. There is no person who may not
say, he has not more than enough for himself, as he may
mean by enough. He may intend, that he has not more
than he desires, or more than he can dispose of to his own

advantage ; or not so much, but that, if he had any thing
less, he should look upon himself in worse circumstances
than he is in now. He will own, that he could live if he
had less; but then he will say he could not live so well.
Rich men may say, they have not more than enough for
themselves, as they may mean by it. They need it all,
they may say, to support their honour and dignity, as is
proper for the place and degree in which they stand. Those
who are poor, to be sure, will say, they have not too much
for themselves ; those who are of the middle sort will say,
they have not too much for themselves ; and the rich will
say, they have not too much for themselves. Thus there
wili be none found to give to the poor.
3. In many cases, we may, by the rules of the gospel,
be obliged to give to others, when we cannot do it without
suffering ourselves ; as if our neighbour's difficulties and
necessities be much greater than our own, and we see that
he is not like to be otherwise relieved, we should be will
ing to suffer with him, and to take part of his burden on
ourselves ; else how is that rule of bearing one another's
burdens fulfilled ? If we be never obliged lo relieve othecs'
burdens, but when we can do it without burdening our
selves, then how do we bear our neighbour's burdens,
when we bear no burden at all ? Though we may not
have a superfluity, yet we may be obliged to afford relief
to others who are in much greater necessity ; as appears by
that rule, Luke iii. 11. " He that hath two coats, let him
impart to him that hath none ; and he that hath meat, let
him do likewise." — Yea, they who are very poor may be
obliged to give for the relief of others inmuch greaterdistress
than they. If there be no other way of relief, those who
have the lightest burden are obliged still to take some part
of their neighbour's burden, to make it the more support
able. A brother may be obliged to help a brother in ex
tremity, though they are both very much in want. The
apostle commends the Macedonian Christians, that they
were liberal to their brethren, though they themselves were
in deep poverty : 2 Cor. viii. 1, 2. " Moreover, brethren,
we do you to wit of the grace of God bestowed on the
churches of Macedonia : how in a great trial of affliction,
the abundance of their joy, and their deep poverty, abound
ed unto the riches of their liberality."
4. Those who have not too much for themselves are will
ing to spare seed to sow, that they may have fruit here
after. Perhaps they need that which they scatter in the
field, and seem to throw away. They may need it for
bread for their families ; yet they will spare seed to sow,
that they may provide for the future, and may have increase.
But we have already shown, that giving to the poor is iu
Scripture compared to sowing seed, and is as much the
way to increase as the sowing of seed is. It doth not
tend to poverty, but the contrary ; it is not the way to
diminish our substance, but to increase it. All the diffi
culty in this matter is in trusting God with what we give,
in trusting his promises. If men could but trust the
faithfulness of God to his own promises, they would give
freely. Object. VII. Some may object concerning a particular
person, that they do not certainly know whether he be an
object of charity or not. They are not perfectly acquaint
ed with his circumstances ; neither do they know what
sort of man he is. They know not whether he be in want
as he pretends. Or if they know this, they know not
how he came to be in want ; whether it were not by his
own idleness, or prodigality. Thus they argue that they
cannot be obliged, till they certainly know these things. —
I replv, 1. This is Nabal's objection, for which he is greatly
condemned in Scripture; see 1 Sam. xxv. David in his
exiled state came and begged relief of Nabal. Nabal ob
jected, ver. 10, 11. "Who is David? And who is the
son of Jesse ? There be many servants now-a-days that
break away every man from his master. Shall I then take
my bread and my water, and my flesh that I have killed
for my shearers, and give it unto men, whom I know not
whence they be?" His objection was, that David was a
stranger to him; he did not know who he was, nor what
his circumstances were. He did not know but that he was
a runaway : and he was not obliged to support and har
bour a runaway. He objected, that he knew not that he

172
was a proper object of charity ; that he knew not but that
he was very much the contrary.
But Abigail no way countenanced his behaviour herein,
but greatly condemned it. She calls him a man of Belial,
and says that he was as his name was ; Nabal was his
name, and folly was with him. And her behaviour was
very contrary to his ; and she is greatly commended for
it. The Holy Ghost tells us in that chapter, ver. 3.
that " she was a woman of a good understanding." At
the same time God exceedingly frowned on Nabal s beha
viour on this occasion, as we are informed that about ten
days after God smote Nabal that he died ; ver. 38.
This story is doubtless told us partly for this end, to
discountenance too great a scrupulosity as to the object
on whom we bestow our charity, and the making of this
merely an objection against charity to others, that we do
not certainly know their circumstances. It is true, when
we have opportunity to become certainly acquainted with
their circumstances, it is well to embrace it : and to
be influenced in a measure by probability in such cases,
is not to be condemned. Yet it is better to give to se
veral that are not objects of charity, than to send away
empty one that is.
2. We are commanded to be kind to strangers whom
we know not, nor their circumstances. This is com
manded in many places ; but I shall mention only one ;
Heb. xiii. 2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers;
for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." By
strangers here the apostle means one whom we know not,
and whose circumstances we know not ; as is evident by
these words, " for thereby some have entertained angels
unawares." Those who entertained angels unawares, did
not know the persons whom they entertained, nor their
circumstances : else how could it be unawares ?
Object. VIII. Some may say they are not obliged to
give to the poor, till they ask. If any man is in necessity,
let him come and make known his straits to me, and then
it will be time enough for me to give him. Or if he need
a public contribution, let him come and ask. I do not
know that the congregation or church is obliged to relieve
till they ask relief. — I answer,
1. It surely is the most charitable, to relieve the needy
in that way wherein we shall do them the greatest kind
ness. Now it is certain that we shall do them a greater
kindness by inquiring into their circumstances, and re
lieving them, without putting them upon begging. There
is none of us but who, if it were their case, would look
upon it more kind in our neighbours, to inquire into our
circumstances, and help us of their own accord. To put
our neighbours upon begging in order to relief, is painful.
It is more charitable, more brotherly, more becoming
Christians and the disciples of Jesus, to do it without. I
think this is self-evident, and needs no proof.
2. This is not agreeable to the character of the liberal
man given in Scripture ; viz. that devises liberal things.
Isa. xxxii. 8. It is not to devise liberal things, if we neg
lect all liberality till the poor come a begging to us. But
to inquire whostand in need of our charity, and to con
trive to relieve them in the way that shall do them the
greatest kindness ; that is to devise liberal things.
3. We should not commend a man for doing so to his
own brother. If a man had an own brother or sister in
great straits, and he were well able to supply them, under
the pretence, that if he or she want any thing, let them
come and ask and I will give them ; we should hardly
think such an one behaved like a brother. Christians
are commanded to love as brethren, to look upon one
another as brethren in Christ, and to treat one another
as such.
4. We should commend others for taking a method
contrary to that which is proposed by the objector. If we
should hear or read of a people who were so charitable,
who took such care of the poor, and were so concerned
that none among them should suffer, who were proper ob
jects of charity ; that they were wont diligently to inquire
into the circutnstances of their neighbours, to find out who
were needy, and liberally supplied them of their own ac
cord ; I say, if we should hear or read of such a people,
would it not appear well to us ? Should not we have the
better thought of that people, on that account ?

CHARITY EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.

Object. IX. He has brought himself to want by hij
own fault.— In reply, it must be considered what you
mean by his fault.
1 . If you mean a want of a natural faculty to manage
affairs to advantage, that is to be considered as his cala
mity. Such a faculty is a gift that God bestows on some,
and not on others ; and it is not owing to themselves.
You ought to be thankful that God hath given you such a
gift, which he hath denied to the person in question. And
it will be a very suitable way for you to show your thank
fulness, to help those to whom that gift is denied, and let
them share the benefit of it with you. This is as reason
able as that he to whom Providence has imparted sight,
should be willing to help him to whom sight is denied,
and that he should have the benefit of the sight of others,
who has none of his own : or, as that he to whom God
hath given wisdom, should be willing that the ignorant
should have the benefit of his knowledge.
2. If they have been reduced to want by some over
sight, and are to be blamed that they did not consider for
themselves better ; yet that doth not free us from all obli
gation to charity towards them. If we should for ever re
fuse to help men because of that, it would be for us to
make their inconsiderateness and imprudent act, an un
pardonable crime, quite contrary to the rules of the gos
pel, which insist so much upon forgiveness. — We should
not be disposed so highly to resent such an oversight in
any for whom we have a dear affection, as our children, or
our friends. We should not refuse to help them in that
necessity and distress, which they brought upon them
selves by their own inconsiderateness. But we ought to
have a dear affection and concern for the welfare of all our
fellow-Christians, whom we should love as brethren, and
as Christ hath loved us.
3. If they are come to want by a vicious idleness and
prodigality ; yet we are not thereby excused from all obli
gation to relieve them, unless they continue in those vices.
If they continue not in those vices, the rules of the gospel
direct us to forgive them ; and if their fault be forgiven,
then it will not remain to be a bar in the way of our cha
ritably relieving them. If we do otherwise, we shall act
in a manner very contrary to the rule of loving one ano
ther as Christ hath loved us. Now Christ hath loved us,
pitied us, and greatly laid out himself to relieve us from
that want and misery which we brought on ourselves by
our own folly and wickedness. We foolishly and per
versely threw away those riches with which we were pro
vided, upon which we might have lived and been happy
to all eternity.
4. If they continue in the same courses still, yet that
doth not excuse us from charity to their families that are
innocent. If we cannot relieve those of their families
without their having something of it, yet that ought not
to be a bar in the way of our charity ; and that because it
is supposed that those of their families are proper objects
of charity; and those that are so, we are bound to relieve:
the command is positive and absolute. If we look upon
that which the heads of the families have of what we give,
to be entirely lost ; yet we had better lose something of
our estate, than suffer those who are really proper objects
of charity to remain without relief.
Object. X. Some may object and say, Others do not
their duty. If others did their duty, the poor would be
sufficiently supplied. If others did as much as we in
proportion to their ability and obligation, the poor would
have enough to help them out of their straits. Or some
may say, it belongs to others more than it does to us.
They have relations that ought to help them ; or there are
others to whom it more properly belongs than to us.
Ans. We ought to relieve those who are in want though
brought to it through others' fault. If our neighbour be
poor, though others be to blame that it is so, yet that ex
cuses us not from helping him. If it belong to others
more than to us, yet if those others will neglect their duty,
and our neighbour therefore remains in want, we may he
obliged to relieve him. If a man be brought into straits
through the injustice of others, suppose by thieves or
robbers, as the poor Jew whom the Samaritan relieved ;
yet we may be obliged to relieve him, though it be not
through our fault that he is in want, but through that of

Sect. IV.

OBJECTIONS TO CHARITY, ANSWERED.

173

other men. And whether that fault be a commission or a
neglect alters not the case.
As to the poor Jew that fell among thieves between
Jerusalem and Jericho, it more properly belonged to those
thieves who brought him into that distress, to relieve him,
than to any other person. Yet seeing they would not do
it, others were not excused ; and the Samaritan did no
more than his duty, relieving him as he did, though it pro
perly belonged to others. — Thus if a man have children or
other relations, to whom it most properly belongs to re
lieve him ; yet if they will not do it, the obligation to
relieve him falls upon others. So for the same reason we
should do the more for the relief of the poor, because others
neglect to do their proportion, or what belongs to them ;
and that because by the neglect of others to do their pro
portion they need the more, their necessity is the greater.
Object. XI. The law makes provision for the poor, and
obliges the respective towns in which they live to provide
for them ; therefore some argue, that there is no occasion
for particular persons to exercise any charity this way.
They say, the case is not the same with us now, as it was
in the primitive church ; for then Christians were under
a heathen government ; and however the charity of Chris
tians in those times be much to be commended, yet now,
by reason of our different circumstances, there is no occa
sion for private charity ; because, in the state in which
Christians now are, provision is made for the poor other
wise. — This objection is built upon these two suppositions,
both which I suppose are false.
1. That the towns are obliged by law to relieve every
one who otherwise would be an object of charity. This I
suppose to be false, unless it be supposed that none are
proper objects of charity, but those that have no estate left
to live upon, which is very unreasonable, and what I have
already shown to be false, in answer to the fourth objec
tion, in showing that it doth not answer the rules of chris
tian charity, lo relieve only those who are reduced to
extremity.

Nor do I suppose it was ever the design of the law, re
quiring the various towns lo support their own poor, to
cut off all occasion for christian charity : nor is it fit there
should be such a law. It is fit that the law should make
provision for those that have no estates of their own ; it is
not fit that persons who are reduced to that extremity
should be left to so precarious a source of supply as a
voluntary charity. They are in extreme necessity of relief,
and therefore it is fit that there should be something sure
for them to depend on. But a voluntary charity in this
corrupt world is an uncertain thing. Therefore the wisdom
of the legislature did not think fit to leave those who are
so reduced, upon such a precarious foundation for subsist
ence. But I suppose not that it was ever the design of
the law to make such provision for all that are in want,
as to leave no room for christian charity.
2. This objection is built upon another supposition,
which is equally false, viz. That there are in fact none
who are proper objects of charity, but those that are re
lieved by the town. Let the design of the law be what
it will, yet if there are in fact persons who are so in want,
as to stand in need of our charity, then that law doth not
free us from obligation to relieve them by our charity. For
as we have just now shown, in answer to the last objec
tion, if it more properly belong to others to relieve them
than us ; yet if they do it not, we are not free. So that if
it be true, that it belongs to the town to relieve all who
are proper objects of charity ; yet if the town in fact do it
not, we are not excused.
If one of our neighbours suffers through the fault of a
particular person, of a thief or robber, or of a town, it alters
not the case : but if he suffer and be without relief, it is
an act of christian charity in us to relieve him. Now it is
too obvious to be denied, that there are in fact persons so
in want, that it would be a charitable act in us to help
them, notwithstanding all that is done by the town. A
man must hide his mental eyes, to think otherwise.

CHRISTIAN CAUTIONS;

THE NECESSITY OF SELF-EXAMINATION.

Psalm cxxxix. 23, 24.
Search me, O God, end know my heart ; try me, and know
my thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.*
INTRODUCTION.
This psalm is a meditation on the omniscience of God,
or upon his perfect view and knowledge of every thing,
which the psalmist represents by that perfect knowledge
which Gotfchad of all his actions, his downsitting and his
uprising ; and of his thoughts, so that he knew his thoughts
afar off; and of his words, " There is not a word in my
tongue," says the psalmist, " but thou knowest it alto
gether." Then he represents it by the impossibility of
fleeing from the divine presence, or of hiding from him ;
so that if he should go into heaven, or hide himself in hell,
or fly to the uttermost parts ofthe sea, yet he would not
be hid from God ; or if he should endeavour to hide him
self in darkness, yet that would not cover him ; but the
darkness and light are both alike to him. Then he repre
sents it by the knowledge which God had of him while in
his mother's womb, ver. 15, 16. " My substance was not
* This Tract contains the substance of four posthumous discourses, on

hid from thee, when I was made in secret ; thine eyes did
see my substance, yet being imperfect; and in thy book
all my members were written."
After this the psalmist observes what must be inferred
as a necessary consequence of this omniscience of God,
viz. that he will slay the wicked, since he seeth all their
wickedness, and nothing of it is hid from him. And last
of all, the psalmist improves this meditation upon God's
all-seeing eye, in begging of God that he would search
and try him, to see if there were any wicked way in him,
and lead him in the way everlasting.
Three things may be noted in the words.
1. The act of mercy which the psalmist implores of
God towards himself, viz. that God would search him.
" Search me, O God, and know my heart ; fry me, and
know my thoughts."
2 . In what respect he desires to be searched, viz. " to see
if there were any wicked way in him." We are not to
understand by it, that the psalmist means that God should
search him for his own information. What he had said
before, of God's knowing all things, implies that he hath
no need of that. The psalmist had said, in the second
verse, that God understood his thought afar off; i. e. it
was all plain before him, he saw it without difficulty, or
the text prefixed, first printed at Edinb. 1788.

174

CHRISTIAN CAUTIONS.

without being forced to come nigh, and diligently to ob
serve. That which is plain to be seen, may be seen at a
distance. Therefore, when the psalmist prays that God would
search him, to see if there were any wicked way in him,
he cannot mean, that he should search that he himself
might see or be informed, but that the psalmist might see
and be informed. He prays that God would search him by
his discovering light ; that he would lead him thoroughly
to discern himself, and see whether there were any wicked
way in him. Such figurative expressions are often used
in Scripture. The word of God is said to be a discerner
of the thoughts and intents of the heart. Not that the
word itself discerns, but it searches and opens our hearts
to view ; so that it enables us to discern the temper and
desires of our hearts. So God is often said to try men.
He doth not try them for his own information, but for the
discovery and irianifestation of them to themselves or others.
3. Observe to what end he thus desires God to search
him, viz. "That he might be led in the way everlasting ;"
i. e. not only in a way which mav have a specious show,
and appear right to him for a while, and in which he may
have peace and quietness for the present ; but in the way
which will hold, which will stand the test, winch he may
confidently abide by for ever, and always approve of as
good and right, and in which he may always have peace
and joy. It is said, that "the way of the ungodly shall
perish," Psal. i. 6. In opposition to this, the way of the
righteous is in the text said to last for ever.

SECT. I.
All men should be much concerned to know whether they do
not live in some way qf sin.
Davio was much concerned to know this concerning
himself : he searched himself, he examined his own heart
and ways ; but he did not trust to that ; he was still afraid
iest there might be some wicked way in him, which had
escaped his notice : therefore he cries to God to search
him. And his earnestness appears in the frequent repe
tition of the same request in different words : "Search
me, O God, and know my heart ; try me, and know my
thoughts." He was very earnest to know whether there
were not some evil way or other in him, in which he went
on, and did not take notice of.
1 . We ought to be much concerned to know whether
we do not live in a state of sin. All unregenerate men
live in sin. We are bom under the power and dominion
of sin, are sold under sin ; every unconverted sinner is a
devoted servant to sin and Satan. We should look upon
it as of the greatest importance to us, to know in what
state we are, whether we ever had any change made in our
hearts from sin to holiness, or whether we be not still in
the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity ; whether ever
sin were truly mortified in us ; whether we do not live in
the sin of unbelief, and in the rejection of the Saviour.
This is what the apostle insists upon with the Corinthians,
2 Cor. xiii. 5. " Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the
feith ; prove your own selves ; know ye not your own
selves, now that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be re
probates ? " Those who entertain the opinion and hope of
themselves, that they are godly, should take great care to
see that their foundation be right. Those that are in doubt
should not give themselves rest till the matter be resolved.
Every unconverted person lives in a sinful way. He
not only lives in a particular evil practice, but the whole
course of his life is sinful. The imagination of the
thoughts of his heart is only evil continually. He not
only doth evil, but he doth no good, Psal. xiv. 3. "They
are altogether become filthy : there is none that doeth
good, no not one." Sin is an unconverted man's trade ;
it is the work and business of his life ; for he is the servant
of sin. And ordinarily hypocrites, or those who are
wicked men, and yet think themselves godly, and make a
profession accordingly, are especially odious and abomin
able to God.
2. We ought to be much concerned to know whether
we do not live in some particular way which is offensive
and displeasing to God : this is what I principally intend.

We ought to be mucn concerned to know whether we do
not live in the gratification of some lust, either in practice
or in our thoughts : whether we do not live in the omission
of some duty, some thing which God expects we should
do ; whether we do not go into some practice or manner
of behaviour, which is not warrantable. We should in
quire whether we do not live in some practice which is
against our light, and whether we do not allow ourselves
in known sins.
We should be strict to inquire whether or no we have
not hitherto allowed ourselves in some or other sinful way,
through wrong principles and mistaken notions of our
duty : whether we have not lived in the practice of some
things offensive to God, through want of care, and watch
fulness, and observation of ourselves. We should be
concerned to know whether we live not in some way
which doth not become the profession we make; and
whether our practice in some things be not unbecoming
christians, contrary to christian rules, not suitable for the
disciples and followers of the holy Jesus, the Lamb of
God. We ought to be concerned to know this, because*
(1.) God requires of us, that we exercise the utmost
watchfulness and diligence in his service. Reason teaches,
that it is our duty to exercise the utmost care, that we
may know the mind and will of God, and our duty in
all the branches of it, and to use our utmost diligence in
everything to do it; because the service of God is the
great business of our lives, it is that work which is the
end of our beings ; and God is worthy, that we should
serve him to the utmost of our power in all things. This
is what God often expressly requires of us ; Deut. iv. 9.
"Take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest
thou forget the things that thine eyes have seen, and lest
they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life." And
v. 15, 16. "Take ye therefore good heed to yourselves,
lest ye corrupt yourselves." And Deut. vi. 17. "You
shall diligently keep the commandments of the Lord your
God, and his testimonies, and his statutes which he hath
commanded thee." And Prov. iv. 23. "Keep thy heart
with all diligence ; for out of it are the issues of life."
So we are commanded by Christ to "watch and pray ; "
Matt. xxvi. 41. and Luke xxi. 34, 36. "Take heed to
yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged
with surfeiting, and drunkenness, and the cares of this
life." Eph. v. 15. " See that ye walk circumspectly." So
that if we be found in any evil way whatsoever, it will
not excuse us, that it was through inadvertence, or that
we were not aware of it ; as long as it is through want of
that care and watchfulness in us, which we ought to have
maintained. (2.) If we live in any way of sin, we live in a way
whereby God is dishonoured; but the honour of God
ought to be supremely regarded by all. If every one
would make it his great cave in all things to obey God, to
live justly and holily, to walk in every thing according to
christian rules ; and would maintain a strict, watchful,
and scrutinous eye over himself, to see if there were no
wicked way in him ; would give diligence to amend what
soever is amiss ; would avoid every unholy, unchristian,
and sinful way ; and if the practice of all were universally
as becometh Christians ; how greatly would this be to the
glory of God, and of Jesus Christ ! How greatly would
it be to the credit and honour of religion ! How would it
tend to excite a high esteem of religion in spectators, and
to recommend a holy life ! How would it stop the
mouths of objectors and opposers ! How beautiful and
amiable would religion then appear, when exemplified in
the lives of Christians, not maimed and mutilated, hut
whole and entire, as it were in its true shape, having all
its parts and its proper beauty ! Religion would then ap
pear to be an amiable thing indeed.
If those who call themselves Christians, thus walked in
all the paths of virtue and holiness, it would tend more to
the advancement of the kingdom of Christ in the world,
the conviction of sinners, and the propagation of religion
among unbelievers, than all the sermons in the world, so
long as the lives of those who are called christians con
tinue as they are now. For want of this concern and
watchfulness in the degree in which it ought to take place,
many truly godly persons adorn not their profession as

THE NECESSITY OF SELF-EXAMINATION.

Sect. I.
they ought to do, and, on the contrary, in some things
dishonour it. For want of being so much concerned as
they ought to be, to know whether they do not walk in
some way that is unbecoming a Christian, and offensive
to God ; their behaviour in some things is very unlovely,
and such as is an offence and stumbling-block to others,
and gives occasion to the enemy to blaspheme.
(3.) We should be much concerned to know whether
we do not live in some way of sin, as we would regard our
own interest. If we live in any way of sin, it will be
exceedingly to our hurt. Sin, as it is the most hateful
evil, is that which is most prejudicial to our interest, and
tends most to our hurt of any thing in the world. If we
live in anv way that is displeasing to God, it may be the
ruin of our souls. Though men reform all other wicked
practices, yet if they live in but one sinful way, which
they do not forsake, it may prove their everlasting un
doing. If we live in any way of sin, we shall thereby provoke
God to anger, and bring guilt upon our own souls.
Neither will it excuse us, that we were not sensible how
evil that way was in which we walked ; that we did not
consider it ; that we were blind as to any evil in it. We
contract guilt not only by living in those ways which we
know, but in those which we miglit know to be sinful, if
we were but sufficiently concerned to know what is sinful
and what not, and to examine ourselves, and search our
own hearts and ways. If we walk in some evil way, and
know it not for want of watchfulness and consideration,
that will not excuse us ; for we ought to have watched and
considered, and made the most diligent inquiry.
If we walk in some evil way, it will be a great prejudice
to us in this world. We shall thereby be deprived of that
comfort which we otherwise might enjoy, and shall expose
ourselves to a great deal of soul trouble, and sorrow, and
darkness, which otherwise we might have been free from.
A wicked way is the original way of pain or grief In it
we shall expose ourselves to the judgments of God, even
in this world; and we shall be great losers by it, in
respect to our eternal interest ; and that though we may
not live in a. way of sin wilfully, and with a deliberate
resolution, but carelessly, and through the deceitfulness of
our corruptions. However, we shall offend God, and
prevent the flourishing of grace in our hearts, if not the
very being of it. ...
Many are very careful that they do not proceed in mis
takes, where their temporal interest is concerned. They
will be strictly careful that they be not led on blindfold m
the bargains which they make ; in their traffic one with
another, they are careful to have their eyes about them,
and to see that they go safely in these cases ; and why not,
where the interest of their souls is concerned ?
(4.) We should be much concerned to know whether
we do not live in some way of sin, because we are exceed
ingly prone to walk in some such way.— The heart of man
is naturally prone to sin ; the weight of the soul is natu
rally that way, as the stone by its weight tendeth down
wards. And" there is very much of a remaining proneness
to sin in the saints. Though sin be mortified in them, yet
there is a body of sin and death remaining ; there are all
manner of lusts and corrupt inclinations. We are exceed
ing apt to get into some ill path or other. Man is so
prone to sinful ways, that without maintaining a constant
strict watch over himself, no other can be expected than
that he will walk in some way of sin.
Our hearts are so full of sin, that they are ready to
betray us. ¦ That to which men are prone, they are apt to
get into before they are aware. Sin is apt to steal in upon
us unawares. Besides this, we live in a world where we
continually meet with temptations ; we walk in the midst
of snares ; and the devil, a subtle adversary, is continually
watching over us, endeavouring, by all manner of wiles
and devices, to lead us astray into by-paths, 2 Cor. xi. 2,
3. "lam jealous over you. I fear, lest by any means, as
the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtlety ; so your
minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in
Christ." 1 Pet. v. 8. " Be sober; be vigilant; because
your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about,
seeking whom he may devour."— These things should
make us the more jealous of ourselves.

175

(5.) We ought to be concerned to know whether we
do not live in some way of sin; because there are many
who live in such ways, and do not consider it, or are not
sensible of it. It is a thing of great importance that we
should know it, and yet the knowledge 'is not to be
acquired without difficulty. Many live in ways which are
offensive to God, who are not sensible of it. They are
strangely blinded in this case. Psal. xix. 12. " Who can
understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from secret
faults." By secret faults, the psalmist means those which
are secret to himself, those sins which were in him, or
which he was guilty of, and yet was not aware of.
SECT. II.
Why many live in sin, and yet not know it.
That the knowing whether we do not live in some way
of sin is attended with difficulty, is not because the rules
of judging in such a case are not plain or plentiful. God
hath abundantly taught us what we ought, and what we
ought not, to do ; and the rules by which we are to walk
are often set before us in the preaching of the word. So
that the difficulty of knowing whether there be any
wicked way in us, is not for want of external light, or for
want of God's having told us plainly and abundantly what
are wicked ways. But that many persons live in ways
which are displeasing to God, and yet are not sensible of
it, may arise from the following things.
1. From the blinding deceitful nature qf sin. The heart
of man is full of sin and corruption, and that corruption is
of an exceedingly darkening, blinding nature. Sin always
carries a degree of darkness with it ; and the more it pre
vails, the more it darkens and deludes the mind.— It is
from hence that the knowing whether there be any wicked
way in us is a difficult thing. The difficulty is not at all
for want of light without us, not at all because the word of
God is not plain, or the rules not clear ; but it is because
of the darkness within us. The light shines clear enough
around us, but the fault is in our eyes ; they are darkened
and blinded by a pernicious distemper.
Sin is of a deceitful nature, because, so far as it prevails,
so far it gains the inclination and will, and that sways and
biasses the judgment. So far as any lust prevails, so far it
biasses the mind to approve of it. So far as any sin sways
the inclination or will, so far that sin seems pleasing and
good to the man ; and that which is pleasing, the mind is
prejudiced to think is right.— Hence when any lust hath
so gained upon a man, as to get him into a sinful way or
practice; it having gained his will, also prejudices his
understanding. And the more irregular a man walks, the
more will his mind probably be darkened and blinded ;
because by so much the more doth sin prevail.
Hence many men who live in ways which are not agree
able to the rules of God's word, yet are not sensible of it ;
and it is a difficult thing to make them so ; because the
same lust that leads them into that evil way, blinds them
in it.— Thus, if a man live a way of malice or envy, the
more malice or envy prevails, the more will it blind his
understanding to approve of it. The more a man hates his
neighbour, the more will he be disposed to think that he
has just cause to hate him, and that his neighbour is
hateful, and deserves to be hated, and that it is not his
duty to love him. So if a man live in any way of lascivi-
ousness, the more his impure lust prevails, the more sweet
and pleasant will it make the sin appear, and so the more
will he be disposed and prejudiced to think there is no
evil in it.
So the more a man lives in a way of covetousness, or
the more inordinately he desires the profits of the world,
the more will he think himself excusable in so doing, and
the more will he think that he has a necessity of those
things, and cannot do without them. And if they be
necessary, then he is excusable for eagerly desiring them.
The same might be shown of all the lusts which are in
men's hearts. By how much the more they prevail, by so
much the more do they blind the mind, and dispose the
judgment to approve of them. All lusts are deceitful
lusts. Eph. iv. 22. " That ye put off, concerning the
former conversation, the old man which is corrupt accord-

176

CHRISTIAN CAUTIONS.

ing to the deceitful lusts." And even godly men may for a
time be blinded and deluded by a lust, so far as to live in
a way which is displeasing to God.
The lusts of men's hearts— prejudicing them in favour
of sinful practices, to which those lusts tend, and in which
they delight — stir up carnal reason, and put men, with all
the subtlety of which they are capable, to invent pleas and
arguments to justify such practices. When men are very
strongly inclined and tempted to any wicked practice, and
conscience troubles them about it, they will rack their
brains to find out arguments to stop the mouth of con
science, and to make themselves believe that they may
lawfully proceed in that practice.
When men have entered upon an ill practice, and pro
ceeded in it, then their self-love prejudices them to approve
of it. Men do not love to condemn themselves ; they are
prejudiced in their own favour, and in favour of whatever
is found in themselves. Hence they will find out good
names, by which to call their evil dispositions and prac
tices ; they will make them virtuous, or at least will make
them innocent. Their covetousness they will call prudence
and diligence in business. If they rejoice at another's
calamity, they pretend it is because they hope it will do
him good, and will humble him. If they indulge in ex
cessive drinking, it is because their constitutions require
it. If they talk against and backbite their neighbour,
they call it zeal against sin ; it is because they would bear
a testimony against such wickedness. If they set up their
wills to oppose others in public affairs, then they call their
wilfulness conscience, or respect to the public good. 
Thus they find good names for all their evil ways.
Men are very apt to bring their principles to their prac
tices, and not their practices to their principles, as they
ought to do. They, in their practice, comply not with
their consciences ; but all their strife is to bring their
consciences to comply with their practice.
On the account of this deceitfulness of sin, and because
we have so much sin dwelling in our hearts, it is a diffi
cult thing to pass a true judgment on our own ways and
practices. On this account we should make diligent
search, and be much concerned to know whether there be
not some wicked way in us. Heb. iii. 12, 1 3. " Take heed,
brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of un
belief in departing from the living God. But exhort one
another daily, while it is called to-day, lest any of you be
hardened through the deceitfulness of sin."
Men can more easily see faults in others than they can
in themselves. When they see others out of the way, they
will presently condemn them, when perhaps they do, or
have done, the same, or the like, themselves, and in them
selves justify it. Men can discern motes in others' eyes,
better than they can beams in their own. Prov. xxi. 2.
" Every way of man is right in his own eyes." The heart
in this matter is exceedingly deceitful. Jer. xvii. 9. " The
heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked :
who can know it ?" We ought not therefore to trust in
our own hearts in this matter, but to keep a jealous eye on
ourselves, to pry into our own hearts and ways, and to cry
to God that he would search us. Prov. xxviii. 26. " He
that trusteth his own heart is a fool."
2. Satan also, sets in with our deceitful lusts, and labours
to blind us in this matter. He is continually endeavour
ing to lead us into sinful ways, and sets in with carnal
reason to flatter us in such ways, and to blind the con
science. He is the prince of darkness ; he labours to
blind and deceive ; it hath been his work ever since he
began it with our first parents.
3. Sometimes men are not sensible, because they are
slupifed through custom. Custom in an evil practice
stupifies the mind, so that it makes any way of sin, which at
first was offensive to conscience, after a while, to seem
harmless. 4. Sometimes persons live in ways of sin, and are not
sensible of it, because they are blinded by common custom,
and the examples qf otliers. There are so many who go
into the practice, and it is so common a custom, that it is
esteemed little or no discredit to a man ; it is little testified
against. This causes some things to appear innocent,
which are very displeasing to God, and abominable in his
sight. Perhaps we see them practised by those of whom

we have a high esteem, by our superiors, and those who
are accounted wise men. This greatly prepossesses the
mind in favour of them, and takes off the sense of their
evil. Or if they be observed to be commonly practised by
those who are accounted godly men, men of experience in
religion, this tends greatly to harden the heart, and blind
the mind with respect to any evil practice.
5. Persons are in great danger of living in ways of sin
and not being sensible of it, for want of duly regarding and
considering their duty in the full extent of it. There are
some who hear of the necessity of reforming from all sins,
and attending all duties, and will set themselves to per
form some particular duties, at the same time neglecting
others. Perhaps their thoughts will be wholly taken up
about religious duties, such as prayer in secret, reading the
Scriptures and other good books, going to public worship
and giving diligent attention, keeping the sabbath, and
serious meditation. They seem to regard these things, as
though they comprised their duty in its full extent, and as
if this were their whole work ; and moral duties towards
their neighbours, their duties in the relations in which
they stand, their duties as husbands or wives, as brethren
or sisters, or their duties as neighbours, seem not to be con
sidered by them.
They consider not the necessity of those things : and
when they hear of earnestly seeking salvation in a way of
diligent attendance on all duties, they seem to leave those
out of their thoughts, as if they were not meant ; nor any
other duties, except reading, and praying, and keeping the
sabbath, and the like. Or if they do" regard some parts of
their moral duty, it may be other branches of it are not
considered. Thus if they be just in their dealings, yet
perhaps they neglect deeds of charity. They know they
must not defraud their neighbour ; they must not lie ; they
must not commit uncleanness ; but seem not to consider
what an evil it is to talk against others lightly, or to take
up a reproach against them, or to contend and quarrel with
them, or to live contrary to the rules of the gospel in their
family-relations, or not to instruct their children or servants.
Many men seem to be very conscientious in some things,
in some branches of their duty on which- they keep their
eye, when other important branches are entirely neglected,
and seem not to be noticed by them. They regard not
their duty in the full extent of it.

SECT. III.
What method we ought to take, in order to find out whether
we do not live in some way of sin.
This, as hath been observed, is a difficult thing to be
known ; but it is not a matter of so much difficulty, but
that if persons were sufficiently concerned about it, and
strict and thorough in inquiring and searching, it might,
for the most part, be discovered ; men might know whether
they live in any way of sin, or not. Persons who are
deeply concerned to please and obey God, need not, under
the light we enjoy, go on in the ways of sin through igno
rance. It is true, that our hearts are exceedingly deceitful ; but
God, in his holy word, hath given that light with respect
to our duty, which is accommodated to the state of dark
ness in which we are. So that by thorough care and in
quiry, we may know our duty, and know whether or no
we live in any sinful way. And every one who hath any
true love to God and his duty, will be glad of assistance
in this inquiry. It is with such persons a concern which
lies with much weight upon their spirits, in all things to
walk as God would have them, and so as to please and
honour him. If they live in any way which is offensive to
God, they will be glad to know it, and do by no means
choose to have it concealed from them.
All those also, who in good earnest make the inquiry,
What shall I do to be saved? will be glad to know whether
they do not live in some sinful way of behaviour. For if
they live in any such way, it is a great disadvantage to
them with respect to that great concern. It behoves every
one who is seeking salvation, to know and avoid every
sinful way in which he lives. The means by which we
must come to the knowledge of this, are" two; viz.

Sect. III.

DIRECTIONS FOR SELF-EXAMINATION.

177

the knowledge of the rule, and the knowledge of our
selves. 1st, If we would know whether we do not live in some
way of sin, we should take a great deal of pains to be
thoroughly acquainted with the rule. — God hath given us a
true and perfect rule, by which we ought to walk. And
that we might be able, notwithstanding our darkness, and
the disadvantages which attend us, to know our duty, he
hath laid the rule before us abundantly. What a full and
abundant revelation of the mind of God have we in the
Scriptures ! And how plain is it in what relates to prac
tice ! How often are rules repeated ! In how many
various forms are they revealed, that we might the more
fuily understand them !
But to what purpose will all this care of God to inform
us be, if we neglect the revelation which God hath made
of his mind, and take no care to become acquainted with
it ? It is impossible that we should know whether we do
not live in a way of sin, unless we know the rule by which
we are to walk. The sinfulness of any way consists in its
disagreement from the rule ; and we cannot know whether
it agree with the rule or not, unless we be acquainted with
the rule. Rom. iii. 20. " By the law is the knowledge
of sin."
Therefore, lest we go in ways displeasing to God, we
ought with the greatest diligence to study the rules which
God hath given us. We ought to read and search the
Holy Scriptures much, and do it with the design to know
the whole of our duty, and in order that the word of God
may be " a lamp unto our feet, and a light unto our
paths." Psal. cxix. 105. Every one ought to strive to get
Knowledge in divine things, and to grow in such know
ledge, to the end that he may know his duty, and know
what God would have him to do.
These things being so, are not the greater part of men
very much to blame in that they take no more pains or
care to acquire the knowledge of divine things ? in that
they no more study the Holy Scriptures, and other books
which might inform them? as if it were the work of
ministers only, to take pains to acquire this knowledge.
But why is it so much a minister's work to strive after
knowledge, unless it be, that others may acquire know
ledge by him?-  Will not many be found inexcusable
in the sinful ways in which they live through ignorance and
mistake, because their ignorance is a wilful, allowed igno
rance ? They are ignorant of their duty, but it is their
own fault they are so ; they have advantages enough to
know, and may know it if they will; but they take
pains to acquire knowledge, and to be well skilled in their
outward affairs, upon which their temporal interest de
pends ; but will not take pains to know their duty.
We ought to take great pains to be well informed,
especially in those things which immediately concern us,
or which relate to our particular cases.
idly, The other mean is the knowledge qf ourselves, as
subject to the rule. — If we would know whether we do
not live in some way of sin, we should take the utmost
care to be well acquainted with ourselves, as well as with
the rule, that we may be able to compare ourselves with
the rule. When we have found what the rule is, then we
should be strict in examining ourselves, whether or no we
be conformed to the rule. This is the direct way in which
our characters are to be discovered. It is one thing
wherein man differs from brute creatures, that he is ca
pable of self-reflection, or of reflecting upon his own
actions, and what passes in his own mind, and consider
ing the nature and quality of them. And doubtless it was
partly for this end that God gave us this power, which is
denied to other creatures, that we might know ourselves,
and consider our own ways.
We should examine our hearts and ways, until we have
satisfactorily discovered either their agreement or dis
agreement with the rules of Scripture. This is a matter
that requires the utmost diligence, lest we overlook our
own irregularities, lest some evil way in us should lie hid
under disguise, and pass unobserved. One would think
we are under greater advantages to be acquainted with
ourselves, than with any thing else ; for we are always
present with ourselves, and have an immediate conscious
ness of our own actions : all that passeth in us, or is done
vol. ir. n

by us, is immediately under our eye. Yet really in some
respects the knowledge of nothing is so difficult to be ob
tained, as the knowledge of ourselves. We should there
fore use great diligence in prying into the secrets of our
hearts, and in examining all our ways and practices. That
you may the more successfully use those means to know
whether you do not live in some way of sin ; be advised,
1. Evermore to join self-reflection with reading and
hearing the word of God. When you read or hear, reflect
on yourselves as you go along, comparing yourselves and
your own ways with what you read or hear. Reflect and
consider what agreement or disagreement there is between
the word and your ways. The Scriptures testify against all
manner of sin, and contain directions for every duty ; as
the apostle saith, 2 Tim. iii. 16. " And is profitable for
doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in right
eousness." Therefore when you there read the rules given
us by Christ and his apostles, reflect and consider, each
one of you with himself, Do I live according to this rule ?
Or do I live in any respect contrary to it ?
When you read in the historical parts of Scripture an
account of the sins of which others nave been guilty, re
flect on yourselves as you go along, and inquire whether
you do not in some degree live in the same or like prac
tices. When you there read accounts how God reproved
the sins of others, and executed judgments upon them for
their sins, examine whether you be not guilty of things of
the same nature. When you read the examples of Christ,
and of the saints recorded in Scripture, inquire whether
you do not live in ways contrary to those examples.
When you read there how God commended and rewarded
any persons for their virtues and good deeds, inquire
whether you perform those duties for which they were
commended and rewarded, or whether you do not live in
the contrary sins or vices. Let me further direct you,
particuiarly to read the Scriptures to these ends, that you
may compare and examine yourselves in the manner now
mentioned. So if you would know whether you do not live in some
way of sin, whenever you hear any sin testified against, or
any duty urged, in the preaching of the word, be careful to
look back upon yourselves, to compare yourselves and
your own ways with what you hear, and strictly examine
yourselves, whether you live in this or the other sinful way
which you hear testified against ; and whether you do this
duty which you hear urged. Make use of the word as a
glass, wherein you may behold yourselves.
How few are there who do this as they ought to do !
who, while the minister is testifying against sin, are busy
with themselves in examining their own hearts and ways !
The generality rather think of others, how this or that per
son lives in a manner contrary to what is preached ; so that
there may be hundreds of things delivered in the preaching
of the word, which properly belong to them, and are well
suited to their cases ; yet it never so much as comes into
their minds, that what is delivered any way concerns
them. Their minds readily fix upon others, and they can
charge them, but never think whether or no they them
selves be the persons.
2. If you live in any ways which are generally con
demned by the better, and more sober, sort qf men, be
especially careful to inquire concerning these, whether
they be not ways of sin. Perhaps you have argued with
yourselves, that such or such a practice is lawful ; you
cannot see any evil in it. However, if it be generally con
demned by godly ministers, and the better and more pious
sort of people, it certainly looks suspicious, whether or no
there be not some evil in it ; so that you may well be put
upon inquiring with the utmost strictness, whether it be not
sinful. The practice being so generally disapproved of by
those who in such cases are most likely to be in the right,
may reasonably put you upon more than ordinarily nice
and diligent inquiry concerning the lawfulness or unlaw
fulness of it.
3. Examine yourselves, whether all the ways in which
you live, are likely to be pleasant lo think of upon a death
bed. Persons often in health allow and plead for those
things, which they would not dare to do, if they looked
upon themselves "as shortly about to go out of the world.
Thev in a great measure still their consciences as to ways

178

CHRISTIAN CAUTIONS.

in which they walk, and keep them pretty easy, while death
is thought of as at a distance: yet reflections on these
same ways are verv uncomfortable when they are going
out of the world. Conscience is not so easily blinded and
muffled then as at other times.
Consider therefore, and inquire diligently, whether or no
you do not live in some practice or other, as to the lawful
ness of which, when it shall come into your minds upon
your death-bed, you will choose to have some further sa
tisfaction, and some better argument than you now have,
to prove that it is not sinful, in order to your being easy
about it. Think over your particular ways, and try your
selves, with the awful expectation of soon going out ofthe
world into eternity, and earnestly endeavour impartially to
judge what ways you will on a death-bed approve of and
rejoice in, and what you will disapprove of, and wish you
had let alone.
4. Be advised to consider what others say qf you, and
improve it to thisend, to know whether you do not live in
someway of sin. Although men are blind to their own
faults, yet they easily discover the faults of others, and are
apt enough to speak of them. Sometimes persons live in
ways which do not at all become them, yet are blind to it
themselves, not seeing the deformity of their own ways,
while it is most plain and evident to others. They them
selves cannot see it, yet others cannot shut their eyes against
it, cannot avoid seeing it.
For instance. Some persons are of a very proud beha
viour, and are not sensible of it ; but it appears notorious
to others. Some are of a very worldly spirit, they are set
after the world, so as to be noted for it, so as to have a
name for it ; yet they seem not to be sensible of it them
selves. Some are of a very malicious and envious spirit ;
and others see it, and to them it appears very hateful ; yet
they themselves do not reflect upon it. Therefore since
there is no trusting to our own hearts and our own eyes in
such cases, we should make our improvement of what
others say of us, observe what they charge us with, and
what fauit they find with us, and strictly examine whether
there be not foundation for it.
If others charge us with being proud; or worldly, close,
and niggardly ; or spiteful and malicious ; or with any
other ill temper or practice ; we should improve it in self-
reflection, to inquire whether it be not so. And though the
imputation may seem to us to be very groundless, and we
think that they, in charging us so and so, are influenced by
no good spirit ; yet if we act prudently, we shall take so
much notice of it as to make it an occasion of examining
ourselves. Thus we should improve what our friends say to us and
of us, when they from friendship tell us of any thing which
they observe amiss in us. It is most imprudent, as well
as most unchristian, to take it amiss, and resent it, when
we are thus told of our faults : we should rather rejoice in
it, that we are shown our spots. Thus also we should im
prove what our enemies say of us If they from an ill
spirit reproach and revile us to our feces, we should con
sider it, so far as to reflect inward upon ourselves, and in
quire whether it be not so, as they charge us. For though
what is said, be said in a reproachful, reviling manner ; yet
there may be too much truth in it. When men revile
others even from an ill spirit towards them ; yet they are
likely to fix upon real faults ; they are likely to fell upon
us where we are weakest and most defective, and where
we have given them most occasion. An enemy will soon
est attack us where we can least defend ourselves : and a
man that reviles us, though he do it from an unchristian
spirit, and in an unchristian manner, yet will be most
likely to speak of that, for which we are really most to
blame, and are most blamed by others.
So when we hear of others talking against us behind our
backs, though they do very ill in so doing, yet the right
improvement of it will be, to reflect upon ourselves, and
consider whether we indeed have not those faults which
they lay to our charge. This will be a more christian and
a more wise improvement of it, than to be in a rage, to
revile again, and to entertain an ill-will towards them for
their evil-speaking. This is the most wise and prudent
* It may be necessary here to inform some readers, that it was the sen
timent of the author, as well as of the country in general where he lived.

improvement of such things. Hereby we may get good
out of evil ; and this is the surest way lo defeat the designs
of our enemies in reviling and backbiting us. They do it
from ill will, and to do us an injury ; but in this way we
may turn it to our own good.
9. Be advised, when you see others' faults, to examine
whether there be not the same in yourselves. This is not
done by many, as is evident from this, that they are so
ready to speak of others' faults, and aggravate them, when
they have the very same themselves. Thus, nothing is
more common than for proud men to accuse others of
pride, and to declaim against them upon that account. So
it is common for dishonest men to complain of being
wronged by others. When a person seeth ill dispositions
and practices in others, he is not under the same disadvan
tage in seeing their odiousness and deformity, as when he
looks upon any ill disposition or practice in himself. He
can see how odious these and those things are in others ;
he can easily see what a hateful thing pride is in another;
and so of malice, and other evil dispositions or practices.
In others he can easily see their deformity ; for he doth
not look through such a deceitful glass, as when he sees the
same things in himself.
Therefore, when you see others' faults ; when you take
notice, how such an one acts amiss, what an ill spirit he
shows, and how unsuitable his behaviour is ; when you
hear others speak of it, and when you yourselves find fault
with others in their dealings with you, or in things wherein
you are any way concerned with them ; then reflect, and
consider, whether there be nothing of the same nature in
yourselves. Consider that these things are just as deformed
and hateful in you as they are in others. Pride, a haughty
spirit and carriage, are as odious in you as they are in your
neighbour. Your malicious and revengeful spirit towards
your neighbour, is just as hateful as a malicious and re
vengeful spirit in him towards you. It is as unreasonable
for you to wrong, and to be dishonest with your neighbour,
as it is for him to wrong, and be dishonest with you. It is
as injurious and unchristian for you to talk against others
behind their backs, as it is for others to do the same with
respect to you.
6. Consider the ways in which others are blinded as to
sins in which they live, and strictly inquire whether you be
not blinded in the same ways. You are sensible that others
are blinded by their lusts ; consider whether the prevalence
of some carnal appetite or lust of the mind have not blind
ed you. You see how others are blinded by their temporal
interest ; inquire whether your temporal interests do not
blind you also in some things, so as to make you allow
yourselves in things which are not right. You are as
liable to be blinded through inclination and interest, and
have the same deceitful and wicked hearts as other men,
Prov. xxvii. 12. "As in water face answereth to face, so the
heart of man to man."
SECT. IV.
Particular subjects qf self-examination — The Lord's day —
God's house.
I desire all those would strictly examine themselves in
the following particulars, who are concerned not to live in
any way of sin, as I hope there are a considerable number
of such now present ; and this certainly will be the case
with all who are godly, and all who are duly concerned for
their own salvation.
1. Examine yourselves with respect to the.sabbath-day,
whether you do not live in some way of breaking or pro
faning God's holy sabbath. Do you strictly in all things
keep this day, as sacred to God, in governing your thoughts,
words, and actions, as the word of God requires on this
holy day ? Inquire whether you do not only fail in par
ticulars, but whether you do not live in some way where
by this day is profaned ; and particularly inquire concern
ing three things.
(1.) Whether it be not a frequent thing with you to en
croach upon the sabbath at its beginning,* and after the sab
bath is begun to be out at your work, or following that
worldly business which is proper to be done only in our
that the sabbath begins with the evening preceding the day, and is to be
celebratedfrom evening to evening. Lev. xxiii. 32.

Sect. IV.

EXAMINATION ABOUT THE LORD'S DAY, &c

179

own time. If this be a thing in which you allow your
selves, you live in a way of sin ; for it is a thing which can
by no means be justified. You have no more warrant to
be out with your team, or to be cutting wood, or doing any
other worldly business, immediately after the sabbath is be
gun, than you have to do it in the middle of the day. The
time is as holy near the beginning ofthe sabbath as'it is in
the middle ; it is the whole that we are to rest, and to keep
holy, and devote to God ; we have no licence to take any
part of it to ourselves.
When men often thus encroach upon the sabbath, it can
not be from any necessity which can justify them : it can
only be for want of due care, and due regard to holy time.
They can with due care get their work finished, so that they
can leave it by a certain hour. This is evident, for when
they arejinder a natural necessity of finishing their work by
a certain time, then they do take that care as to have done
before that time comes : as, for instance, when they are
aware that at such a time it will be dark, and they will not
be able to follow their work any longer, but will be under
a natural necessity of leaving off; why, then, they will and
do take care ordinarily to have finished their work before
that time ; and this although the darkness sometimes be
gins sooner, and sometimes later.
This shows, that with due care men can ordinarily have
done their work by a limited time. If proper care will
finish their work by a limited time when they are under a
natural necessity of it, the same care would as well finish
it by a certain time when we are only under a moral ne
cessity. If men knew that as soon as ever the sabbath
should begin, it would be perfectly dark, so that they would
be under a natural necessity of leaving off their work abroad
by that time, then we should see that they would generally
have their work done before the time. This shows that it
is only for want of care, and of regard to the holy command
of God, that men so frequently have some of their work
abroad to do after the sabbath is begun.
Nehemiah took great care that no burden should be
borne after the beginning of the sabbath, Nehem. xiii. 19.
" And it came to pass, that when the gates of Jerusalem
began to be dark before the sabbath," i. e. began to be
darkened by the shade of the mountains before sun-set,
" I commanded that the gates should be shut, and charged
that they should not be opened till after the sabbath ; and
some of my servants set I at the gates, that there should be
no burden brought in on the sabbath-day."
(2.) Examine whether it be not your manner to talk on
the sabbath of things unsuitable for holy time. If you do
not move such talk yourselves, yet when you fall into com
pany that set you the example, are you not wont to join in
diverting talk, or in talk of worldly affairs, quite wide from
any relation to the business of the day ? There is as much
reason that you should keep the sabbath holy with your
tongues, as with your hands. If it be unsuitable for you
to employ your hands about common and worldly things,
why is it not as unsuitable for you to employ your tongues
about them 7
(3.) Inquire whether it be not your manner to loiter
away the time of the sabbath, and to spend it in a great
measure in idleness, in doing nothing. Do you not spend
more time on sabbath-day, than on other days, on your
beds, or otherwise idling away the time, not improving it
as a precious opportunity of seeking God, and your own
salvation ?
2. Examine yourselves, whether you do not live in some
way of sin with respect to the institutions qf God's house.
Here I shall mention several instances.
(1.) Do you not wholly neglect some of those institu
tions, as particularly the sacrament of the Lord's supper?
Perhaps you pretend scruples of conscience, that you are
not fit to come to that ordinance, and question whether
you be commanded to come. But are your scruples the
result of a serious and careful inquiry ? Are they not
rather a cloak for your own negligence, indolence, and
thoughtlessness concerning your duty ? Are you satisfied,
have you thoroughly inquired and looked into this matter ?
If not, do you not live in sin, in that you do not more
thoroughly inquire 7 Are you excusable in neglecting a
positive institution, when you are scrupulous about your
duty, and yet do not thoroughly inquire what it is ?
N- 2

But be it so, that you are unprepared; is not this your
own sin, your own fault ? and can sin excuse you from
attending on a positive institution of Christ ? When per
sons are like to have children to be baptized, they can be
convinced that it is their duty to come. If it be only con
science that detained Ihem, why doth it not detain them
as well now as heretofore? or if they now be more
thorough in their inquiries concerning their duty, ought
they not to have been thorough in their inquiries before as
well as now ?
(2.) Do you not live in sin, in living in the neglect of
singing God's praises? If singing praise to God be an
ordinance of God's public worship, as doubtless it is, then
it ought to be performed by the whole worshipping assem
bly. If it be a command that we should worship God in
this way, then all ought to obey this command, not only
by joining with others in singing, but in singing themselves.
For if we suppose it answers the command of God for us
only to join in our hearts with others, it will run us into
this absurdity, that all may do so ; and then there would
be none to sing, none for others to join with.
If it be an appointment of God, that christian congrega
tions should sing praises to him, then doubtless it is the
dutv of all; if there be no exception in the rule, then all
ought to comply with it, unless they be incapable of it, or
unless it would be a hinderance to the other work of
God's house, as the case may be with ministers, who some
times may be in great need of that respite and intermis
sion after public prayers, to recover their breath and strength,
so that they may be fit to speak the word. But if persons
be now not capable, because they know not how to sing,
that doth not excuse them, unless they have been incapable
of learning. As it is the command of God, that all should
sing, so all should make conscience of learning to sing, as
it is a thing which cannot be decently performed at all
without learning. Those, therefore, who neglect to learn
to sing, live in sin, as they neglect what is necessary in
order to their attending one of the ordinances of God's
worship. Not only should persons make conscience of
learning to sing themselves, but parents should conscien
tiously see to it, that their children are taught this among
other things, as their education and instruction belongs to
them. (3.) Are you not guilty of allowing yourselves in sin, in
neglecting to do your part towards the removal qf scandals
from among us ? All persons that are in the church, and
the children of the church, are under the watch of the
church ; and it is one of those duties to which we are
bound by the covenant which we either actually or virtual
ly make, in uniting ourselves to a particular church, that
we will watch over our brethren, and do our part to up
hold the ordinances of God in their purity. This is the
end of the institution of particular churches, viz. the main
taining of the ordinances of divine worship there, in the
manner which God hath appointed.
Examine whether you have not allowed yourselves in
sin with respect to this matter, through fear of offending
your neighbours. Have you not allowedly neglected the
proper steps for removing scandals, when you have seen
them ; the steps of reproving them privately, where the
case would allow of it, and of telling them to the church,
where the case required it ? Instead of watehing over
your brother, have you not rather hid yourselves, that ye
might not be witnesses against him ? and when you have
seen scandal in him, have you not avoided the taking of
proper steps according to the case ?
(4.) Art not thou one whose manner it is, to come late
to the public worship of God, and especially in winter, when
the weather is cold ? and dost thou not live in sin in so
doing ? Consider whether it be a way which can be justi
fied ; whether it be a practice which doth honour to God and
religion ; whether it have not the appearance of setting light
by the public worship and ordinances of God's house.
Doth it not show that thou dost not prize such opportuni
ties, and that thou art willing to have as little of them as
thou canst? Is it not a disorderly practice? and if all
should do as thou dost, what confusion would it occasion?
(5.) Art thou not one whose manner it commonly is to
sleep in the time of public service ? and is not this to live
in a way of sin ? ' Consider the matter rationally ; is it a

180

CHRISTIAN CAUTIONS.

thing to be justified, for thee to lay thyself down to sleep,
while thou art present in the time of divine service, and
pretendest to be one of the worshipping assembly, and to
be hearing a message from God ? Would it not be looked
upon as a high affront, an odious behaviour, if thou
shouldst do so in the presence of a king, while a message
was delivering to thee, in his name, by one of his servants ?
Canst thou put a greater contempt on the message which
the King of kings sendeth to thee, concerning things of
the greatest importance, than from time to time to lay thy
self down, and compose thyself to sleep, while the mes
senger is delivering his message to thee .
(6.) Art thou not one who is not careful to keep his mind
intent upon what is said and done in public worship ?
Dost thou not, in the midst of the most solemn acts of
worship, suffer thy thoughts to rove after worldly objects,
worldly cares and concerns, or perhaps the objects of thy
wicked lusts and desires ? and dost thou not herein live in
a way of sin ?
SECT. V.
Self-examination concerning secret sins.
I shall now propose to you to examine yourselves, Whe
ther you do not live in some secret sin ; whether you do
not live in the neglect of some secret duty, or secretly live
in some practice which is offensive to the pure and all-see
ing eye^of God. Here you should examine yourselves
concerning all secret duties, as reading, meditation, secret
prayer; whether you attend those at all, or if you do,
whether you do not attend them in an unsteady and care
less manner. You should also examine yourselves concern
ing all secret sins. Strictly inquire what your behaviour
is, when you are hid from the eye of the world, when you
are under no other restraints than those of conscience,
when you are not afraid of the eye of man, and have
nothing to fear but the all-seeing eye of God.  Here,
among many other things which might be mentioned, I
shall particularly mention two.
(1.) Inquire whether you do not live in the neglect of
the duty of reading the Holy Scriptures. The Holy Scrip
tures were surely written to be read ; and unless we be
popish in our principles, we shall maintain, that they were
not only given to be read by ministers, but by the people
too. It doth not answer the design for which they were
given, that we have once read them, and that we once in
a great while read something in them. They were given
to be always with us, to be continually conversed with, as
a rule of life. As the artificer must always have his rule
with him in his work ; and the blind man that walks must
always have his guide by him ; and he that walks in dark
ness must have his light with him ; so the Scriptures were
given to be a lamp to our feet, and a light to our path.
That we may continually use the Scriptures as our rule
of life, we should make them our daily companion, and
keep them with us continually; Josh-i. 8. " This book of
the law shall not depart out of thy mouth, but thou shalt
meditate therein day and night." See also Deut. vi. 6—9.
So Christ commands us to search the Scriptures, John v.
39. These are the mines wherein we are to dig for wis
dom as for hidden treasures. Inquire, therefore, whether
you do not live in the neglect of this duty, or neglect it so
far, that you may be said to live in a way of sin.
(2.) Inquire whether you do not live in some way of
secretly gratifying some sensual lust. There are rriany
ways and degrees, wherein a carnal lust may be indulged ;
but every way is provoking to a holy God. Consider
whether, although you restrain yourselves from more gross
indulgences, you do not, in some way or other, and in
some degree or other, secretly from time to time gratify
your lusts, and allow yourselves to taste the sweets of
unlawful delight.
Persons may greatly provoke God, by only allowedly
gratifying their lusts in their thoughts arid imaginations.
They may also greatly provoke God by excess and intem
perance in gratifying their animal appetites in those things
which are in themselves lawful. Inquire, therefore, whe
ther you do not live in some sinful way or other, in
secretly gratifying a sinful appetite.

SECT. VI.
Self-examination concerning our temper qfmind towards
our neighbours — and our dealings with them.
I would propose to you to examine yourselves, whether
you do not live in some way of sin, — 1 . In the spirit and
temper qfmind which you allow towards your neighbour.
(1.) Do you not allow and indulge a passionate, furious
disposition ? If your natural temper be hasty and pas
sionate, do you truly strive against such a temper, and
labour to govern your spirit ? Do you lament it, and
watch over yourselves to prevent it ? or do you allow
yourselves in a fiery temper ? Such a disposition doth
not become a Christian, or a man. It doth not become a
man, because it unmans him ; it turns a man from a ra
tional creature, to be like a wild beast. When men are
under the prevalency of a furious passion, they have not
much of the exercise of reason. We are warned to avoid
such men, as being dangerous creatures, Prov. xxii. 24,
25. " Make no friendship with an angry man ; and with
a furious man thou shalt not go, lest thou learn his ways,
and get a snare to thy soul."
(2.) Do not you live in hatred towards some or other
of your neighbours? Do you not hate him for real or
supposed injuries that you have received from him ? Do
you not hate him, because he is not friendly towards you,
and because you judge that he hath an ill spirit against
you, and hates you, and because he opposes you, and
doth not show you that respect which you think belongs
to you, or doth not show himself forward to promote your
interest or honour ? Do you not hate him, because vou
think he despises you, has mean thoughts of you, and
takes occasion to show it ? Do you not hate him", because
he is of the opposite party to that which is in your interest,
and because he has considerable influence in that party.
Doubtless you will be loth to call it by so harsh a name
as hatred ; but inquire seriously and impartially, whether
it be any thing better. Do you not feel ill towards him ?
Do you not feel a prevailing disposition within you to be
pleased when you hear him talked against and run down,
and to be glad when you hear of any dishonour put upon
him, or of any disappointments which happen to him ?
Would you not be glad of an opportunity to be even with
him for the injuries which he hath done you ? And where
in doth hatred work but in such ways as these ?
(3.) Inquire whether you do not live in envv towards
some one at least of your neighbours. Is not his pros
perity, his riches, or his advancement in honour, uncom
fortable to you? Have you not, therefore, an ill will, or
at least less good will to him, because you look upon him
as standing in your way, you look upon yourself as de
pressed by his advancement ? And would it not be pleasing
to you now, if he should be deprived of his riches, or of
his honours, not from pure respect to the public good, but
because you reckon he stands in your way ? Is it not
merely from a selfish spirit that you are so uneasy at his
prosperity ?
2. I shall propose to your consideration, whether vou
do not live in some way of sin, and wrong in your deal
ings with your neighbours.
(1.) Inquire whether you do not from time to time in
jure and defraud those with whom you deal. Are your
ways with' your neighbour altogether just, such as' will
bear a trial by the strict rules of the word of God, or such
as you can justify before God? Are you a faithful per
son ? may your neighbours depend on your word ? Are
you strictly and firmly true to your trust, or any thing with
which you are betrusted, and which you undertake ? Or
do you not by your conduct plainly show, that you are not
conscientious in such things ?
Do you not live in a careless sinful neglect of paying
your debts? Do you not, to the detriment of your neigh
bour, sinfully withhold that which is not your own, but
his ? Are you not wont to oppress your neighbour? When
you see another in necessity, do you not thence take ad
vantage to screw upon him '? When you see a person ig
norant, and perceive that you have an opportunity to make
your gains of it, are you not wont to take such an oppor
tunity ? Will you not deceive in buying and selling, and

Sect. VII.

OUR CHARITY, &c. TOWARDS OUR NEIGHBOURS.

181

labour to blind the eyes of him of whom you buy, or to
whom you sell, with deceitful words, hiding the faults of
what you sell, and denying the good qualities of what
you buy, and not strictly keeping to the truth, when you
see that falsehood will be an advantage to you in your
bargain ?
(2.) Do you not live in some wrong which you have
formerly done your neighbour without repairing it ? Are
you not conscious that you have formerly, at some time
or other, wronged your neighbour, and yet you live in it,
have never repaired the injury which you have done him ?
If so, you live in a way of sin.

SECT. VII.
Self-examination respecting charity towards our neighbours,
and conversation with them.
I desire you would examine yourselves, 1. Whether you
do not live in the neglect of the duties of charity towards
your neighbour. You may live in sin towards your neigh
bour, though you cannot charge yourselves with living in
any injustice in your dealings. Here also I would men
tion two things.
(1 .) Whether you are guilty of sinfully withholding from
your neighbour who is in want. Giving to the poor, and
giving liberally and bountifully, is a duty absolutely re
quired of us. It is not a thing left to persons' choice to
do as they please ; nor is it merely a thing commendable
in persons to be liberal to others in want; but it is a duty
as strictly aud absolutely required and commanded as any
other duty whatsoever, a duty from which God will not
acquit us ; as you may see in Deut. xv. 7, 8, &c. and the
neglect of this duty is very provoking to God, Prov. xxi.
13. "Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he
also himself shall cry, and not be heard."
Inquire, therefore, whether you have not lived in a way
of sin in this regard. Do you not see your neighbour
suffer, and pinched with want, and you, although sensible
of it, harden your hearts against him, and are careless
about it ? Do you not in such a case, neglect to inquire
into his necessities, and to do something for his relief! Is
it not your manner to hide your eyes in such cases, and to
be so far from devising liberal things, and endeavouring
to find out the proper objects and occasions of charity,
that you rather contrive to avoid the knowledge of them?
Are you not apt to make objections to such duties, and to
excuse yourselves ? And are you not sorry for such occa
sions, on which you are forced to give something, or expose
your reputation? — Are not such things grievous to you ?
If these things be so, surely you live in sin, and in great
sin, and have need to inquire, whether your spot be not
such as is not the spot of God's children.
(2.) Do you not live in the neglect of reproving your
neighbour, when you see him going on in a way of sin ?
This is required of us by the command of God, as a duty
of love and charity which we owe our neighbour : Lev.
xix. 17. " Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart ;
thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbour, and not
suffer sin upon him." When we see our neighbour going
on in sin, we ought to go, and in a christian way deal
with him about it. Nor will it excuse us, that we fear it
will have no good effect; we cannot certainly tell what
effect it will have. This is past doubt, that if Christians
generally performed this duty as they ought to do, it would
prevent abundance of sin and wickedness, and would de
liver many a soul from the ways of death.
If a man going on in the ways of sin, saw that it was
generally disliked and discountenanced, and testified
against by others, it would have a strong tendency to re
form him. His regard for his own reputation would
strongly persuade him to reform ; for hereby he would
see that the way in which he lives makes him odious in
the eyes of others. When persons go on in sin, and no
one saith any thing to them in testimony against it, they
know not but that their ways are approved, and are not
sensible that it is much to their dishonour to do as they
do. The approbation of others tends to blind men's eyes,
and harden their hearts in sin ; whereas, if ihey saw that

others utterly disapprove of their ways, it would tend to
open their eyes and convince them.
If others neglect their duty in this respect, and our re
proof alone will not be so likely to be effectual ; yet that
doth not excuse us : for if one singly may be excused,
then every one may be excused, and so we shall make it
no duty at all.
Persons often need the reproofs and admonitions of
others, to make them sensible that the ways in which they
live are sinful ; for, as hath been already observed, men
are often blinded as to their own sins.
2. Examine yourselves, whether you do not live in some
way of sin in your conversation with your neighbours.
Men commit abundance of sin, not only in the business
and dealings which they have with their neighbours, but
in their talk and converse with them.
(1.) Inquire whether you do not keep company with
persons of a lewd and immoral behaviour, with persons
who do not make conscience of their ways, are not of
sober lives, but on the contrary, are profane and extrava
gant, and unclean in their communication. This is what
the word of God forbids, and testifies against : Prov. xiv.
7. " Go from the presence of a foolish man, when thou
perceivest not in him the lips of knowledge." Prov. xiii.
20. " A companion of fools shall be destroyed." The
psalmist professes himself clear of this sin, Psalm xxvi.
4, 5. " I have not sat with vain persons ; neither will I go
with dissemblers : I have hated the congregation of evil
doers, and will not sit with the wicked."
Do you not live in this sin ? Do you not keep conir
pany with such persons ? and have you not found them a
snare to your souls ? If you have any serious thoughts
about the great concerns of your souls, have you not found
this a great hinderance to you ? Have you not found that
it liath been a great temptation to you ? Have you not
been from time to time led into sin thereby ? Perhaps it
may seem difficult wholly to forsake your old wicked
companions. You are afraid they will deride you, and
make game of you ; therefore you have not courage enough
to do it. But whether it be difficult or not, yet know this,
that if you continue in such connexions, you live in a way
of sin, and, as the Scripture saith, you shall be destroyed.
You must either cut off your right hands, and pluck out
your right eyes, or else even go with them into the fire that
never shall be quenched.
(2.) Consider whether, in your conversation with others,
you do not accustom yourselves to evil speaking. How
common is it for persons, when they meet together, to sit
and spend their time in talking against others, judging this
or that of them, spreading ill and uncertain reports which
they have heard of them, running down one and another,
and ridiculing their infirmities ! How much is such sort
of talk as this the entertainment of companies when they
meet together ! and what talk is there which seems to be
more entertaining, to which persons will more listen, and
in which they will seem to be more engaged, than such
talk ! You cannot but know how common this is.
Therefore examine whether you be not guilty of this. —
And can you justify it ? Do you not know it to be a way
of sin, a way which is condemned by many rules in the
word of God? Are you not guilty of eagerly taking up
any ill report which you hear of your neighbour, seeming
to be glad that you have some news to talk of, with which
you think others will be entertained ? Do you not often
spread ill reports which you hear of others, before you
know what ground there is for them ? Do you not take a
pleasure in being the reporter of such news ? Are you not
wont to pass a judgment concerning others, or their beha
viour, without talking to them, and hearing what they
have to say for themselves ? Doth not that folly and shame
belong to you which is spoken of in Prov. xviii. 13. " He
that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and
shame unto him."
This is utterly an inquiry, a very unchristian practice,
which commonly prevails, that men, when they hear or
know of any ill of others, will not do a christian part, in
going to talk with them about ft, to reprove them for it, but
will get behind their backs before they open their mouths,
and there are very forward to speak, and to judge, to the hurt
of their neighbour's good name. Consider whether you

CHRISTIAN CAUTIONS.

be not guilty of this. Consider also how apt you are to
be displeased when you hear that others have been talking
against you ! how forward are you to apply the rules, and
to think and tell how they ought first to have come and
talked with you about it, and not to have gone and spread
an ill report of you, before they knew what you had to
say in your vindication ! How ready are persons to resent
it, when others meddle with their private affairs, and busy
themselves, and judge, and find fault, and declaim against
them ! - How ready are they to say, it is no business of
theirs ! -, Yet are you not guilty of the same ?
(3.) Is it not your manner to seem to countenance and
fall in with the talk qf the company in which you are, in
that which is evil ? When the company is vain in its talk,
and falls into lewd discourse, or vain jesting, is it not your
manner, in such a case, to comply and fell in with the
company, to seem pleased with its talk, if not to join with
it, and help to carry on such discourse, out of compliance
with your company, though indeed you disapprove of it
in your hearts ? So inquire, whether it be not your man
ner to fall in with your companions, when they are talking
against others. Do you not help forward the discourse,
or at least seem to fall in with their censures, the aspersions
they cast on others, and the reflections they make upon
their neighbours' characters ?
There are some persons, who, in case of difference be
tween persons or parties, are double-tongued, will seem to
fall in with both parties. When they are with those on
one side, they will seem to be on their side, and to fall in
with them in their talk against their antagonists. At
another time, when they are with those of the other side,
they will seem to comply with them, and will condemn
the other party ; which is a very vile and deceitful prac
tice. Seeming to be friendly to both before their faces,
they are enemies to both behind their backs ; and that
upon so mean a motive as the pleasing of the party with
which they are in company. They injure both parties,
and do what in them lies to establish the difference be
tween them. Inquire whether or no this be your manner.
(4.) Is it not your manner, not to confine yourselves to
strict truth in your conversation with your neighbours ?
Lying is accounted ignominious and reproachful among
men ; and they take it in high disdain to be called liars ; yet
how many are there that do not so govern their tongues,
as strictly to confine them to the truth ! There are vari
ous degrees of transgressing in this kind. Some, who
may be cautious of transgressing in one degree, may allow
themselves in another. Some, who commonly avoid
speaking directly and wholly contrary to truth, in a plain
matter of fact ; yet perhaps are not strictly true in speak
ing of their own thoughts, desires, affections, and designs,
and are not exact to the truth, in the relations which they
give of things in conversation ; scruple not to vary in cir
cumstances, to add some things, to make their story the
more entertaining ; will magnify and enlarge things, to
make their relation the more wonderful ; and in things
wherein their interest or credit is concerned, will make
false representations of things : will be guilty of an unwar
rantable equivocation, and a guileful way of speaking,
wherein they are chargeable with a great abuse of language.
In order to save their veracity, words and sentences must
be wrested to a meaning quite beside their natural and
established signification. Whatever interpretation such
men put on their own words, they do not save themselves
from the guilt of lying in the sight of God. Inquire
whether you be not guilty of living in sin in this particular.

SECT. VIII.
Self-examination respecting the families to which we belong.
Examine yourselves, whether you do not live in some
way of sin in the families to which you belong. There are
many persons who appear well among their neighbours,
and seem to be of an honest, civil behaviour in their deal
ings and conversation abroad ; yet if you follow them to
their own houses, and to the families to which they belong,
there you will find them very perverse in their ways ;
there they live in ways which are very displeasing to the
pure all-searching eyes of God. You have already been

directed to examine your conversation abroad ; you have
been directed to search the house of God, and to see if you
have brought no defilement into it; you have been
directed to search your closets, to see if there be no pollu
tion or provocation there ; be advised now to search your
houses, examine your behaviour in the families to which
you belong, and see what your ways and manners are
there. The houses to which we belong are the places where the
generality of us spend the greater part of our time. If
we respect the world as a man's sphere of action, a man's
own house is the greater part of the world to him ; i. e.
the greater part of his actions and behaviour in the world
is limited within this sphere. We should therefore be
very critical in examining our behaviour, not only abroad,
but at home. A great proportion of the wickedness of
which men are guilty, and that will be brought out at the
day of judgment, will be the sin which they shall have
committed in the families to which they belong.
Therefore inquire how you behave yourselves in the
family relations in which you stand. As those relative
duties which we owe towards the members of the same
family belong to the second table of the law, so love is the
general duty which comprises them all. Therefore,
(1 .) Examine yourselves, whether you do not live in
some way which is contrary to lhat love which is due to
those who belong to the same family. Love, implying a
hearty good will, and a behaviour agreeable to it, is a duty
which we owe to all mankind. We owe it to our neigh
bours, to whom we are no otherwise related than as thev
are our neighbours ; yea, we owe it to those who stand in
no relation to us, except that they are of mankind, are
reasonable creatures, the sons and (laughters of Adam. It
is a duty that we owe to our enemies ; how much more
then do we owe it to those who stand in so near a relation
to us as a husband or wife, parents or children, brethren
or sisters !
There are the same obligations on us to love such rela
tives as to love the rest of mankind. We are to love them
as men ; we are to love them as our neighbours ; we are
to love them as belonging to the same christian church ;
and not only so, but Tiere is an additional obligation,
arising from that near relation in which they stand to us.
This is over and above the other. The nearer the relation,
the greater is the obligation to love. To live in hatred, or
in a way that is contrary to love, towards any man, is very
displeasing to God ; but how much more towards one of
the same family ! Love is the uniting band of all societies,
Col. iii. 14. " And above all these things, put on charity
which is the bond of perfectness."
The union in love in our own family should be so much
the stronger, as that society is more peculiarly our own,
and is more appropriated to ourselves, or is a society in
which we are more especially interested. Christ saith,
Matt. vii. 22. " I say unto you, whosoever is angry with
his brother without a cause, shall be in danger of the judg
ment ; and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca,' shall
be in danger ofthe council ; and whosoever shall say, Thou
fool, shall be in danger of hell-fire." If this be true con
cerning those who are our brethren only as men, or professing
Christians, how much more concerning those who are of
the same family ! If contention be so evil a thing in a
town among neighbours, how much more hateful is it be
tween members of the same family ! If hatred, envy, or
revenge, be so displeasing to God, towards those who are
only our fellow-creatures, how much more provoking must
it be between those that are our natural brothers and sisters,
and are one bone and flesh ! If only being angry with a
neighbour without a cause be so evil, how much "sin must
needs be committed in those broils and quarrels between
the nearest relations on earth !
Let every one inquire how it is with himself. Do you
not in this respect allow yourselves in some way of sin ?
Are you not often jarring"and contending with those who
dwell under the same roof ? Is not your spirit often ruffled
with anger towards some of the same family ? Do you
not often go so far as to wish evil to them in' your hearts,
wish that some calamity would befall them ? "Are vou not
guilty of reproachful language towards them, if not of re
vengeful acts ? Do you not neglect and refuse those of-

Sect. VIII.

SELF-EXAMINATION RESPECTING OUR FAMILIES.

183

fices of kindness and mutual helpfulness which become
those who are of one family ? Yea, are there not some
who really go so far, as in some degree to entertain a set
tled hatred or malice against some of their nearest rela
tions ? — But here I would particularly apply myself,
[1 .] To husbands and wives. Inquire whether you do
not live in some way of sin in this relation. Do you make
conscience of performing all those duties which God in his
word requires of persons in this relation ? or do you allow
yourselves in some ways which are directly opposite there
to ? Do you not live in ways that are contrary to the obli-
fttions into which you entered in your marriage-covenant?
he promises which you then made are not only binding
as promises which are ordinarily made between man and
man, but they have the nature of vows or promissory
oaths ; they are made in the presence of God, because
they respect him as a witness to them ; and therefore the
marriage-covenant is called the covenant of God ; Prov. ii.
17.; "which forsaketh the guide of her youth, and for-
getteth the covenant of her God." When you have vowed
that you will behave towards those to whom you are thus
united, as the word of God directs in such a relation, are
you careless about it, no more thinking what you have
promised and vowed, regardless how you perform those
vows ?
Particularly, are you not commonly guilty of bitterness
of spirit towards one another, and of unkindness in your
language and behaviour ? If wrath, and contention, and
unkind and reproachful language, be provoking to God,
when only between neighbours ; what is it then between
those whom God hath joined together to be one flesh, and
between whom he hath commanded so great and dear a
friendship to be maintained ? Eph. v. 28, 29. " So ought
men to love their wives, as their own bodies. He that
loveth his wife, loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated
his own flesh ; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as
the Lord the church." Eph. v. 25. " Husbands, love your
wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave him
self for it."
It is no excuse at all for either party to indulge bitter
ness and contention in this relation, that the other party is
to blame ; for when was there ever one of fallen mankind
to be found who had no faults ? When God commanded
such an entire friendship between man and wife, he knew
that the greater part of mankind would have faults ; yet
he made no exception. And if you think your yoke
fellows have faults, you should consider whether you your
selves have not some too. There never will be any such
thing as persons living in peace one with another, in this
relation, if this be esteemed a sufficient and justifiable
cause of the contrary. It becomes good friends to cover
one another's faults : Love covers a multitude of faults :
Prov. x. 1. " Hatred stirreth up strife ; but love covereth
all sins." But are not you rather quick to spy faults, and
ready to make the most of them. Are not very little things
often the occasion of contention between you ? Will not a
little thing often ruffle your spirits towards your com
panions ? and when any misunderstanding is begun, are
you not guilty of exasperating one another s spirits by un
kind language, until you blow up a spark into a flame ?
Do you endeavour to accommodate yourselves to each
other's tempers ? Do you study to suit each other ? or do
you set up your own wills, to have your own ways, in
opposition to each other, in the management of your family
concerns ? Do you make it your study to render each other's
lives comfortable ? or is there not, on the contrary, very
often subsisting between you a spirit of ill will, a dispo
sition to vex and cross one another ?
Husbands do sometimes greatly sin against God, in
being of an unkind imperious behaviour towards their
wives, treating them as if they were servants ; and (to
mention one instance of such treatment in particular) lay
ing them under unjust and unreasonable restraints in the
use and disposal of their common property; forbidding
them so much as to dispose of any thing in charity, as of
their own judgment and prudence. This is directly con
trary to the word of God, where it is said of the virtuous
wife, Prov. xxxi. 20. that " she stretcheth out her hand to
the poor ; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy."
If God hath made this her duty, then he hath given her

this right and power, because the duty supposes the right.
It cannot be the duty of her who hath no right to dispose
of any thing, to stretch forth her hand to the poor, and to
reach forth her hands to the needy.
On the other hand, are not the commands of God, the.
rules of his word, and the solemn vows of the marriage-
covenant, with respect to the subordination which there
ought to be in this relation, made light of by many ? Eph.
v. 22. " Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands,
as unto the Lord :" so Col. iii. 18. What is commanded
by God, and what hath been solemnly vowed and sworn
in his presence, certainly ought not to be made a jest of;
and the person who lightly violates these obligations, wili
doubtless be treated as one who slights the authority of
God, and takes his name in vain.
[2.] I shall apply myself to parents and heads of
families. Inquire whether you do not live in some way of
sin with respect to your children, or others committed to
your care : and particularly inquire,
1. Whether you do not live in sin, by living in the neg
lect qf instructing them. Do you not wholly neglect the
duty of instructing your children and servants ? or if
you do not wholly neglect it, yet do you not afford
them so little instruction, and are you not so unsteady,
and do you not take so little pains in it, that you live
in a sinful neglect ? Do you take pains in any measure
proportionate to the importance of the matter? You
cannot but own that it is a matter of vast importance,
that your children be fitted for death, and saved from hell ;
and that all possible care be taken that it be done speedily ;
for you know not how soon your children may die. Are
you as careful about the welfare of their souls as you are
of their bodies ? Do you labour as much that they may
have eternal life, as you do to provide estates for them to
live on in this world ?
Let every parent inquire, whether he do not live in a
way of sin in this respect : and let masters inquire, whether
they do not live in a way of sin, in neglecting the poor
souls of their servants ; whether their only care be not to
make their servants subservient to their worldly interest,
without any concern what becomes of them to all eternity.
2. Do you not live in a sinful neglect qf the government
of your families ? Do you not live in the sin of Eli ? who
indeed counselled and reproved his children, but did not
exercise government over them. He reproved them very
solemnly, as 1 Sam. ii. 23, 24, 25. but he did not restrain
them ; by which he greatly provoked God, and brought an
everlasting curse upon his house : 1 Sam. iii. 12. " In that
day I will perform against Eli all things which I have
spoken concerning his house. When I begin, I will also
make an end. I will judge his house for ever; because
his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them
not." If you say you cannot restrain your children, this is no
excuse ; for it is a sign that you have brought up your
children without government, that your children regard not
your authority. When parents lose their government
over their children, their reproofs and counsel signify but
little. How many parents are there who are exceedingly
faulty on this account ! How few are there who are thorough
in maintaining order and government in their families !
How is family-government in a great measure vanished !
and how many are as likely to bring a curse upon their
families, as Eli ! This is one principal ground of the cor
ruptions which prevail in the land. This is the foundation
of so much debauchery, and of such corrupt practices
among young people : family-government is in a great
measure extinct. By neglect in this particular, parents
bring the guilt of their children's sins upon their own souls,
and the blood of their children will be required at their
hands. Parents sometimes weaken one another's hands in this
work ; one parent disapproving what the other doth ; one
smiling upon a child, while the other frowns ; one pro
tecting, while the other corrects. When things in a family
are thus, children are like to be undone. Therefore let
every one examine whether he do not live in some way of
sin with respect to this matter.
[3.] I shall now apply myself to children. Let them
examine themselves, whether they do not live in some way

184

CHRISTIAN CAUTIONS.

of sin towards their parents. Are you not guilty of some
undutifulness towards them, in which you allow your
selves ? Are you not guilty of despising your parents for
infirmities which you see in them ? Undutiful children are
ready to contemn their parents for their infirmities. Are
not you sons of Ham, who saw and made derision of his
father's nakedness, whereby he entailed a curse on himself
and his posterity to this day ; and not the sons of Shem
and Japheth, who covered the nakedness of their father ?
Are you not guilty of dishonouring and despising your
parents for natural infirmities, or those of old age ? Prov.
xxiii. 22. " Despise not thy mother when she is old."
Doth not that curse belong to you, in Deut. xxvii. 16.
" Cursed be he that setteth light by his father or his
mother?" Are you not wont to despise the counsels and reproofs
of your parents ? When they warn you against any sin,
and reprove you for any misconduct, are you not wont to
set light by it, and to be impatient under it ? Do you
honour your parents for it ? on the contrary, do you not
receive it with resentment, proudly rejecting it ? Doth it
not stir up corruption, and a stubborn and perverse spirit
in you, and rather make you to have an ill-will to your
parents, than to love and honour them ? Are you not to be
reckoned among the fools mentioned Prov. xv. 5 . " A fool
despiseth his father's instruction?" and doth not that
curse belong to you, Prov. xxx. 17. " The eye that mock-
eth at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the
ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles
shall eat it?"
Do you not allow a fretful disposition towards your
parents", when they cross you in any thing? Are you not
apt to find fault with your parents, and to be out of temper
with them ?
Consider, that if you live in such ways as these, you
not only live in sin, but in that sin, than which there is
scarcely any one oftener threatened with a curse in the
word of God.
SECT. IX.
Awakening considerations for self-examination.
We come now to mention some things, in order to con
vince those who, upon examination, find that they do live
in some way of sin, of the importance of their knowing
and amending their manner of life. You have had direc
tions laid before you, how to find out whether you do live
in any way of sin or not; and you have heard many par
ticulars mentioned as proper subjects for your examination
of yourselves. How then do you find things ? Do you
find yourselves clear of living in any way of sin ? I mean
not whether you find yourself clear of sin ; that is not ex
pected of any of you ; for there is not a man upon earth
that doeth good, and sinneth not, 1 Kings viii. 46. But
is there not some way of sin in which you live, which is
your stated way or practice? There are doubtless some
who are clear in this matter, some " who are undefiled in
the way, and do no iniquity," Psal. cxix. 1, 2, 3.
Let your own consciences answer how you find with
respect to yourselves, by those things which have been
proposed to you. Do you not find that you are guilty ?
that you live in a way of sin, and have allowed yourselves
in it ?  If this be the case, then consider the following
things. If you have been long seeking salvation, and have not yet
succeeded, it may be this hath been the cause. You have
perhaps wondered what hath been the matter, that you
have been so long a time under concern about your salva
tion, that you have taken so much pains, and all seems to
be to no purpose. You have many a time cried earnestly to
God, yet he doth not regard you. Others obtain comfort,
but you are left in darkness. But is it any wonder at all,
if you have lived in some way of sin all this while ? If you
have lived in any sinful way, this is a sufficient reason
why all your prayers and all your pains have been blasted.
If all this while you have lived in some sinful wav, so
far you have failed of seeking salvation in the right way.
The right way of seeking salvation is, to seek it in the dili
gent performance of all duties, and in the denial of all un
godliness. If there be any one member that is corrupt,

and you cut it not off, there is danger that it will carry you
to he'll, (Matt. v. 29, 30.)
2. If grace have not been flourishing, but, on the con
trary, in languishing circumstances in your souls, perhaps
this is the cause. The way to grow in grace is to walk in
the way of obedience to all the commands of God, to be
very thorough in the practice of religion. Grace will
flourish in the hearts of those who live in this manner ;
but if you live in some way of sin, that will be like some
secret disease at your vitals, which will keep you poor,
weak, and languishing.
One way of sin lived in will wonderfully keep you down
in your spiritual prosperity, and in the growth and strength
of grace in your hearts. It will grieve the Holy Spirit of
God, and will in a great measure banish him from you :
this will prevent the good influence of the word and ordi
nances of God to the causing of grace to flourish in vou.
It will be a great obstacle to their good effect. It will be
like an ulcer within a man, which, while it remains, will
keep him weak and lean, though you feed him with ever
so wholesome food, or feast him ever so daintily.
3. If you have been left to fall into great sin, perhaps
this was the occasion of it. If you have been left greatly
to wound your own souls, perhaps this was what made
way for it, that you allowed yourselves in some way of
sin. A man who doth not avoid every sin, and is not
universally obedient, cannot be well guarded against great
sins. The sin in which he lives will be always an inlet,
an open door, by which Satan from time to time will find
entrance. It is like a breach in your fortress, through
which the enemy may get in, and find his way to you
greatly to hurt and wound you.
If there be any way of sin which is retained as an outlet
to corruption, it will be like a breach in a dam, which, if
it be let alone, and be not stopped, will grow bigger and
wider, and will endanger the whole. If any way of sin be
lived in, it will be like Gideon's ephod, which was a snare
to him and his house.
4. If vou live very much in spiritual darkness, and
without the comfortable presence of God, it may be this
is the cause. If you complain that you have but little
sweet communion with God, that you seem to be left and
deserted of God, that God seems to hide his face from
you, and but seldom gives you the sweet views of his
glory and grace, that you seem to be left very much to
grope in darkness, and to wander in a wilderness ; per
haps you have wondered what is the matter ; you have
cried to God often, that you might have the light of his
countenance, but he heareth you not ; and you have sorrow
ful days and nights upon this account. But if you have
found, by what hath been said, that you live in some
way of sin, it is very probable that is the cause, that is the
root of your mischief, that is the Achan, the troubler that
offends God, and causes him to withdraw, and brings so
many clouds of darkness upon your souls. You grieve
the Holy Spirit by the way in which you live ; and that is
the reason that you have no more comfort from him.
Christ hath promised, that he will manifest himself to
his disciples ; but it is upon the condition, that they keep
his commands: John xiv. 21. "He that hath my com
mandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me ;
and he that loveth me, shall be loved of my Father ; and I
will love him, and will manifest myself to him." But if
you habitually live in disobedience to any of the com
mandments of Christ, then it is no wonder that he doth
not give you the comfortable manifestations of himself.
The way to receive the special favours of God, and to
enjoy comfortable communion with him, is to walk closely
with him.
5. If you have been long doubting about your condition,
perhaps this is the cause. If persons be converted, the
most likely way to have the evidences of it clear, and to
have the Spirit of God witnessing with our spirits, that we
are the children of God, is to walk closely with God.
This, as we have observed already, is the way to have
grace in a flourishing state in the soul ; it is the way to
have the habits of grace strengthened, and the exercises of
it lively. And the more lively the exercises of grace are, ¦
the more likely will they be to be seen. Besides, this is
the way to have God manifesting himself to us, as our

Sect. IX.

AWAKENING CONSIDERATIONS.

185

father and our friend, to have the manifestations and in
ward testimonies of his love and favour.
But if you live in some way of sin, it is no wonder if
that greatly darkens your evidences, as it keeps down the
exercises of grace, and hides the light of God's counte
nance. Ana it may be that you never will come to a
comfortable resolution of that point, whether you be con
verted or not, until you shall have wholly forsaken the
way of sin in which you live.
6. If you have met with the frowns of Providence, per
haps this has been the cause. When you have met with
very sore rebukes and chastisements, that way of sin hath
probably been your troubler. Sometimes God is exceed
ingly awful in his dealings with his own people in this
world, for their sins. Moses and Aaron were not suffered
to enter into Canaan, because they believed not God, and
spake unadvisedly with their lips, at the waters of Meri-
bah. And how terrible was God in his dealings with
David ! what affliction in his family did he send upon
him ! one of his sons ravishing his sister ; another mur
dering his brother, and having expelled his father out of
his kingdom, openly in the sight of all Israel, and in the
sight of the sun, defiling his father's concubines on the
top of the house, and at last coming to a miserable end ?
Immediately after this followed the rebellion of Sheba ;
and he had this uncomfortable circumstance attending the
end of his life, that he saw another of his sons usurping
the crown.
How awfully did God deal with Eli, for living in the
sin of not restraining his children from wickedness ! He
killed his two sons in one day ; brought a violent death
upon Eli himself; took the ark" from him, and sent it into
captivity ; cursed his house for ever ; and sware that the
iniquity of his house should not be purged with sacrifice
and offering for ever ; that the priesthood should be taken
from him, and given to another family ; and that there
should never be an old man in his faBiiiy.

Is not some way of sin in which you live the occasion
of the frowns and rebukes of Providence which you have
met with ? True, it is not the proper business of your
neighbours to judge you with respect to events of Provi
dence ; but you yourselves ought to inquire, wherefore
God is contending with you, Job ix. 10.
7. If death be terrible to you, perhaps this is the foun
dation of it. When you think of dying, you find you
shrink back at the thought. When you have any illness,
or when there is any thing which seems any way to threaten
life, you find you are affrighted by it ; the thoughts of
dying, and going into eternity, are awful to you ; and that
although you entertain a hope that you are converted. If
you live in some way of sin, probably this is very much
the foundation of it. This keeps your minds sensual and
worldly, and hinders a lively sense of heaven and heaven
ly enjoyments. This keeps grace low, and prevents that
relish of heavenly enjoyments which otherwise you would
have. This prevents your having the comfortable sense of
the divine favour and presence ; and without that no won
der you cannot look death in the face without terror.
The way to have the prospect of death comfortable, and
to have undisturbed peace and quiet when we encounter
death, is, to walk closely with God, and to be undefiled
in the way of obedience to the commands of God ; and
that it is otherwise sometimes with truly godly persons, is
doubtless frequently owing to their living in ways dis
pleasing to God.
8. If you find by these things which have been pro
posed to you, that you have lived in a way of sin, con
sider that if you henceforward live in the same way, you
will live in known sin. Whether in time past it have been
known sin or not, though you may have hitherto lived in
it through ignorance or inadvertence ; yet if now you be
sensible of it, henceforward, if you continue in it still, it
will not be a sin of ignorance, but you will be proved to
be of that class of men who live in ways of known sin.

A WARNING TO PROFESSORS:

GREAT GUILT OF THOSE WHO ATTEND ON THE ORDINANCES OF DIVINE WORSHIP,
AND YET ALLOW THEMSELVES IN ANY KNOWN WICKEDNESS.

Ezek. xxiii. 37, 38, 39.
That they have committed adultery, and blood is in their
hands, and with their idols have they committed adultery,
and have also caused their sons, whrnn they bare unto me, to
pass for them through the fire to devour tin m. More
over this they have dme unto me ; they have defiled my
sanctuary in the same day, and hare profaned my sab
baths. For when they had slain their children to their
idols, then they came the same day into my sanctuary to
profane it ; and, lo, thus have they done in the midst qf
mine house* INTRODUCTION.
Samaria and Jerusalem, or Israel and Judah, are here
represented by two women, Aholah and Aholibah ; and their
idolatry and treachery towards their covenant God is re
presented by the adultery of these women. They forsook
God, who was their husband, and the guide of their
youth, and prostituted themseives to others. The base
ness of Aholah and Aholibah towards God, their husband,
* This Tract is the substance of two posthumous discourses, on this text,

is here pointed out by two things, viz. adultery and blood
shed : They have committed adultery, and blood is in their
hands. 1. They committed adultery with other lovers, viz. with
their idols : With their idols have they committed adultery.
2. They not only committed adultery, but they took
their children that they bore to God, and killed them for
their lovers. Their hearts were quite alienated from God,
their husband, and they were so bewitched with lust after
those other lovers, that they took their own children, whom
they had by their husband, and put them to cruel deaths,
to make a feast with them for their lovers ; as it is said in
ver. 37. " And have also caused my sons whom they bare
unto me, to pass for them through the fire to devour them."
But here is a twofold wickedness of those actions of
theirs held forth to us in the words. (1 .) The wickedness
of them considered in themselves ; for who can express
the horrid baseness of this their treatment of God, their
husband ? (2.) An additional wickedness, resulting from
the joining of these actions with sacred things. Beside
the monstrous wickedness of these actions in themselves
considered, there was this which exceedingly increased the
first printed at Edinb. 1788.

186

A WARNING TO PROFESSORS.

guilt, that on the same day they came into God's sanc
tuary, or that they lived in such wickedness at the same
timethat they came and attended the holy ordinances of
God's house, pretending to worship and adore him, whom
they all the while treated in such a horrid manner; and so
herein defiled and profaned holy things ; as in ver. 38,
and 39. " Moreover, this have they done unto me ; they
have defiled my sanctuary in the same day, and have pro
faned my sabbaths. For when they had slain their chil
dren to their idols, then they came the same day into my
sanctuary, to profane it ; and, lo, thus have they done in
the midst of mine house."
Doctrine. — When they that attend ordinances of di
vine worship allow themselves in known wickedness, they
are guilty of dreadfully profaning and polluting those
ordinances. By a divine ordinance, when the expression is used in
its greatest latitude, is meant any thing of divine institu
tion or appointment. Thus we call marriage a divine or
dinance, because it was appointed by God. So civil
government is called an ordinance of God : Rom. xiii. 1,
2. " Let every soul be subject to the higher powers ; for
there is no power but of God ; the powers that be are or
dained of God. Whosoever, therefore, resisteth the power,
resisteth the ordinance of God."
But the word is more commonly used only for an insti
tuted or appointed way or mean of worship. So the sa
craments are ordinances; so public prayer, singing of
praise, the preaching of the word, and the hearing of the
word preached, are divine ordinances. The setting apart
of certain officers in the church, the appointed way of dis
cipline, public confession of scandals, admonition, and ex
communication, are ordinances. These are called the
ordinances of God's house, or of public worship ; and these
are intended in the doctrine : it is the profanation of these
ordinances lhat is spoken of in the text : " They came into
my sanctuary to profane it; and, lo ! thus have they done
in the midst of mine house," saith God. This doctrine
seems to contain two propositions.
SECT. I.
The ordinances of God are holy.
Divine ordinances are holy in the following respects :
1. They are conversant wholly and immediately about
God, and things divine. When we are in the attendance
on the ordinances of divine worship, we are in the special
presence of God. When persons come and attend on the
ordinances of God, they are said to come before God, and
to come into his presence : Jer. vii. 10. " Come and stand
before me, in this house which is called by my name."
Psal. c. 2. " Come into his presence with singing."
In divine ordinances, persons have immediate inter
course with God, either in applying to him, as in prayer
and singing praises, or in receiving from him, waiting
solemnly and immediately on him for spiritual good, as in
hearing the word ; or in both applying to God and receiv
ing from him, as in the sacraments. They were appointed
on purpose that in them men might converse and hold
communion with God. We are poor, ignorant, blind
worms of the dust ; and God did not see it meet that our
way of intercourse with God should be left to ourselves ;
but God hath given us his ordinances, as ways and means
of conversing with him.
In these ordinances, holy and divine things are exhibited
and represented. In the preaching of the word, holy
doctrines and the divine will are exhibited; in the sacra
ments, Christ Jesus and his benefits are represented ; in
prayer and praise, and in the attendance on the word and
sacraments, are represented our faith, love, and obedience.
2. The end of God's ordinances is holy. The immediate
end is to glorify God. They are instituted to direct us in
the holy exercises of faith and love, divine fear and rever
ence, submission, thankfulness, holy joy and sorrow, holy
desires, resolutions, and hopes. True worship consists in
these holy and spiritual exercises ; and as these divine or
dinances are the ordinances of worship, they are to help us,
and to direct us in such a worship as this.

3. They have the sanction of divine authority. They
are not only conversant about a divine and holy object,
and designed to direct and help us in divine and holy ex
ercises, but they have a divine and holy author. The in
finitely great and holy God hath appointed them, the
eternal Three in One. Each person in the Trinity hath
been concerned in their institution. God the Father hath
appointed them, and that by his own Son. They are of
Christ's own appointment ; and he appointed, as he had
received of the Father : John xii. 49. " I have not spoken
of myself, but the Father which sent me, he gave me com
mandment what I should say, and what I should speak."
And the Father and Son more fully revealed and ratified
them by the Spirit ; and they are committed to writing by
the inspiration ofthe Holy Spirit.
They are holy, in that God hath hallowed them, or con
secrated them. They are conversant about holy things;
and God ordained them, that in them we might be con
versant about holy things. They are for a holy use; and
it is God who, by his own immediate authority, ordained
them for that holy use; which renders them much more
sacred than otherwise they would have been.
4. They are attended in the name of God. Thus we are
commanded to do all that we do, in word or deed, in the
name of Christ, Col. iii. 17. which is to be understood
especially of our attendance on ordinances. Ordinances
are administered in the name of God. When the word is
preached by authorized ministers, they speak in God's
name, as Christ's ambassadors, as co-workers together with
Christ : 2 Cor. v. 20. " Now we are ambassadors for
Christ ;" chap. vi. 1. " We are workers together with him."
When a true minister preaches, he speaks as the oracles of
God, 1 Pet. iv. 11. and he is to be heard as one repre
senting Christ.
So in administering the sacraments, the minister repre
sents the person of Christ ; he baptizes in his name, and in
the Lord's supper stands in his stead. In administering
church-censures, he still acts, as the apostle expresses it,
in the person of Christ, 2 Cor. ii. 10. On the other hand,
the congregation, in their addresses to God in ordinances,
as prayer and praise, act in the name of Christ, the Medi
ator, as having him to represent them, and as coming to
God by him. SECT. II.
God's ordinances are dreadfully profaned by those who
attend on them, and yet allow themselves in ways of
wickedness.
Persons who come to the house of God, into the holy
presence of God, attending the duties and ordinances of
his public worship, pretending with others, according to
divine institution, to call on the name of God, to praise
him, to hear his word, and commemorate Christ's death,
and who yet, at the same time, are wittingly and allowedly
going on in wicked courses, or in any practice contrary to
the plain rules of the word of God, therein greatly pro
fane the holy worship of God, defile the temple of God
and those sacred ordinances on which thev attend. The
truth of this proposition appears by the foliowing con
siderations. 1. By attending ordinances, and yet living in allowed
wickedness, they show great irreverence and contempt of
those holy ordinances. When persons who have been
committing known wickedness, and yet live in it, and have
no other design than to go on still in the same, when they
come from their wickedness, as it were the same day, as it
is expressed in the text, and attend the sacred solemn
worship and ordinances of God, and then go from the
house of God directly to the like allowed wickedness —
they hereby express a most irreverent spirit with respect to
holy things, and in a horrid manner cast contempt upon
God's sacred institutions, and on those holy things which
we are concerned with in them.
They show that they have no reverence of that God who
hath hallowed these ordinances. They show a contempt of
that divine authority which instituted them. They show
a horribly irreverent spirit towards lhat God into whose
presence they come, and with whom they immediately
have to do in ordinances, and in whose name these ordi-

Sect. II.

ORDINANCES, BY WHOM PROFANED.

187

nances are performed and attended. They show a con
tempt of that adoration of God, of that faith and love, and
that humiliation, submission, and praise, which ordinances
were instituted to express. What an irreverent spirit doth
it show, that they are so careless after what manner they
come before God ! that they take no care to cleanse and
purify themselves, in order that they may be fit to come
before God ! yea, that they take no care to avoid making
themselves more and more unclean and filthy !
They have been taught many a time, that God is of
purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity,
and how exceedingly he is offended with sin ; yet they
care not how unclean and abominable they come into his
presence. It shows horrid irreverence and contempt, that
they are so bold, that they are not afraid to come into the
presence of God in such a manner; and that they will
presume to go out of the presence of God, and from an
attendance upon holy things, again to their sinful practices.
If they had any reverence of God and holy things, an approach
inlo his presence, and an attendance on those holy things,
would leave that awe upon their minds, that they would
not dare to go immediately from them to their ways of
known wickedness.
It would show a great irreverence in any person towards
a king, if he should not care how he came into his pre
sence, and if he should come in a sordid habit, and in a
very indecent manner. How much more horrid irreverence
doth it show, for persons willingly and allowedlv to defile
themselves with that filth which God infinitely hates, and
so frequently to come into the presence of God !
2. By making a show of respect to God in ordinances,
and then acting the contrary in their lives, they do but
mock God. In attending ordinances, they make a show of
respect to God. By joining in prayer, in public adorations,
confessions, petitions, and thanksgivings, they make a
show of high thoughts of God, and of humbling themselves
before him ; of sorrow for their sins, of thankfulness for
mercies, and of a desire of grace and assistance to obey
and serve God. By attending upon the hearing of the
word, they make a show of a teachable spirit, and of a
readiness to practise according lo the instructions given.
By attending on the sacraments, they make a show of faith
in Christ, of choosing him for their portion, and spiritually
feeding upon him.
But bv their actions they all tbe while declare the con
trary. They declare, that they have no high esteem of
God, but that they despise him in their hearts. They de
clare, that they are so far from repenting of, that they in
tend to continue in, their sins. They declare, that they
have no desire of that grace and assistance to live in a holy
manner for which thev prayed, and that they had rather live
wickedly : this is what they choose, and for the present
are resolved upon. They declare by their actions, that
there is no truth in what they pretend in hearing the word
preached, that ihey had a desire to know what the will of
God is, that they might be directed in their duty ; for thev
declare by their actions, that they desire not to do the will
of God, and that they do not intend any such thing: but
intend, on the contrary, to disobey him ; and that they pre
fer their carnal interests before his authority and glory.
They declare by their actions, that there is no truth iu
what they pretend in their attendance on the sacraments,
that they desire to be fed with spiritual nourishment, and to
be conformed and assimilated to Christ, and to have com
munion with him. They show by their practices, that they
have no regard to Christ ; and that they had rather have
their lusts gratified, than to be fed with his spiritual food :
they show, that thev desire not any assimilation to Christ,
but to be different from him, and of an opposite character
to him : they show, that instead of desiring communion.
with Christ, thev are his resolved and allowed enemies,
wilfully acting the part of enemies to Christ, dishonouring
him, and promoting the interest of Satan against him.
Now, what can this be else but mockery, to make a
show of great respect, reverence, love, and obedience, and
at ttie same time wilfully to declare the reverse in actions.
If a rebel or traitor should send addresses to his king,
making a show of great loyalty and fidelity, and should all
the while openly, and in the king's sight, carry on designs
of dethroning him, how could his addresses be considered

as any other than mockery ? If a man should bow and
kneel before his superior, and use many respectful terms
to him, but at the same time should strike him, or spit in
his face, would his bowing and his respectful terms be
looked upon in any light than as done in mockery ? When
the Jews kneeled before Christ, and said, Hail, King of
the Jeivs, but at the same time spit in his face, and smote
him upon the head with a reed ; could their kneeling and
salutations be considered as any other than mockery ?
Men who attend ordinances, and yet willingly live in
wicked practices, treat Christ in the same manner that
these Jews did. They come to public worship, and pre
tend to pray to him, to sing his praises, to sit and hear his
word ; they come to the sacrament, pretending to com
memorate his death. Thus they kneel before him, and
say, Hail, King of the Jews ; yet at the same time they
live in ways of wickedness, which they know Christ hath
forbidden, of which he hath declared the greatest hatred,
and which are exceedingly to his dishonour. Thus they
buffet him, and spit in his face. They do as Judas djd,
who came to Christ saying, Hail, Master, and kissed him,
at the same time betraying him into the hands of those who
sought his life.
How can it be interpreted in any other light, when men
come to public worship, and attend ordinances, and yet
will be drunkards and profane swearers, will live in lasci-
viousness, injustice, or some other known wickedness?
If a man should pray to God to keep him from drunken
ness, and at the same time should put the bottle to his
own mouth, and drink himself drunk ; the absurdity and
horrid wickedness of his conduct would be manifest to
every man. But the very same thing, though not so visible
to us, is done by those who make profession of great respect
to God, and pray God from time to time to keep them from
sin ; yet at the same time have no design to forsake their
known sins, but intend the contrary.
God sees men's designs and resolutions more plainly
than we can see their outward actions ; therefore for a man
to pray to God to be kept from sin, and at the same time
to intend to sin, is mockery as visible to God as if he prayed
to be kept, from some particular sin, which he was at the
same time willingly and allowedly committing.
These persons are guilty of a horrid profanation of God';
ordinances ; for they make them occasions of a greater af
front to God, the occasions of showing their impudence
and presumption; for he wbo lives in wilful wickedness,
and doth not enjoy the ordinances of God, is not guilty of
so great presumption, as he who attends these ordinances,
and yet allows himself in wickedness. This latter acts as
though he came into the presence of God on purpose to
affront him. He comes from time to time to hear the will
of God, and all the while designs disobedience, and goes
away and acts directly contrary to it.
A servant would affront his master by wilfully disobey
ing his commands in any wise. But he would affront him
much more, if he should on every occasion come to him
to inquire his will, as though he were ready to do whatever
his master would have him do, and then should immediate
ly go away and do the contrary.
3. They put the ordinances of God to a profane use.
The ordinances of God are holy, as they are set apart of
God to a holy use and purpose. They are the worship of
God, instituted for the ends of giving honour and glory to
him, and to be means of grace and spiritual good to us.
But those persons who attend these ordinances, and yet
live in allowed wickedness, aim at neither of these ends :
they, in their attendance on ordinances, neither aim to give
honour to God, or to express any love, or esteem, or
thankfulness ; nor do they sincerely seek the good of their
own souls. It is not truiy the aim of any such persons to
obtain grace, or to be made holy ; their actions plainly show
that this is not their desire ; they choose to be wicked, and
intend it.
It is not therefore to these purposes that they improve
the holy ordinances of God ; but they put them to another
and profane use. They attend ordinances to avoid that
discredit which a voluntarily and habitual absence from
them would cause among those witb whom they live, to
avoid the punishment of human laws, or for their worldly
advantage; to make up for other wickedness, or for some

A WARNING TO PROFESSORS.

other carnal purposes. Thus they profane the ordinances
of God, by perverting them to profane purposes.
4. When persons thus treat God's holy ordinances, it
tends to beget contempt of them in others. When others
see sacred things commonly used so irreverently, and at
tended with such carelessness and contempt, and treated
without any sacred regard ; when they see persons are bold
with them, treat them without any solemnity of spirit ;
when they see them thus commonly profaned, it tends to
diminish their sense of their sacredness, and to make them
seem no very awful things. In short, it tends to imbolden
them to do the like.
The holy ve.-.sels and utensils of the temple and taber
nacle were never to be put to a common use, nor to be
handled without the greatest care and reverence: for if it
had been commonly otherwise, the reverence of them could
not have been maintained ; they would have seemed no
more sacred than any thing else. So it is in the ordinances
of christian worship.

SECT. III.
A call to self-examination.
Let this doctrine put all upon examining themselves,
whether they do not allow themselves in known wicked
ness. You are such as do enjoy the ordinances of divine
worship. You come into the holy presence of God, at
tending on those ordinances, which God, by sacred
authority, hath hallowed and set apart, that in them we
might have immediate intercourse with himself; that we
might worship and adore him, and express to him a
humble, holy, supreme respect; and that in them we
might receive immediate communications from him.
Here you come and speak to God, pretending to express
your sense how glorious he is, and how worthy that you
should fear and love him, humble yourselves before him,
devote yourselves to him, obey him, and have a greater re
spect to his commands and to his honour, than to any tem
poral interest, ease, or pleasure of your own. Here you
pretend before God, that you are sensible how unworthily
you have done by sins committed in times past, and that
you have a great desire not to do the like in time to come.
You pretend to confess your sins, and to humble your
selves for them. Here you pray that God would give you
his Spirit to assist you against sin, to keep you from the
commission of it, enable you to overcome temptations, and
help you to walk holily in all your conversation, as though
you really had a great desire to avoid such sins as you
have been guilty of in time past. And the like pretences
you have rhade in your attendance upon the other ordi
nances, as in hearing the word, in singing praise, &c.
But consider whether you do not horribly defile and pro
fane the public prayers and other ordinances. Notwith
standing all your pretences, and what you seem to hold
forth by your attendance on them, do you not all the while
live in known wickedness against God ? For all your pre
tences of respect to God, of humiliation for sin, and desires
to avoid it, have you not come directly from the allowed
practice of known sin to God's ordinances, and did not at
all repent of what you had done, nor at all sorry for it at
the very time when you stood before God, making these
pretences ; and even had no design of reformation, but in
tended to return to the same practice again after your de
parture from the presence of God ? — I say, Hath not this,
on many occasions, been your manner of coming and at
tending on the ordinances of divine worship ? Not only
so, but is it not still your manner, your common way of
attending upon these ordinances, even to this very day?
Do you not lie to God with your tongues, when you pre
tend, that he is a great God, and that you are poor, guilty,
unworthy creatures, deserving his wrath by the sins of
which you have been guilty ? and when you pretend, that
you earnestly desire he would keep you from the like for
time to come ? Are you not guilty of horrid mockery of
God in it, when at the same time you design no such
thing, but the contrary ?
Do you not even the same day that you come into God's
house, and to his ordinances, allow yourselves in known
sins ? Do you not with consent and approbation think of

the sinful practices, in wnich you allow yourselves, and in
which you have been exercising yourselves in the week
past ? Do you not the very day in which you attend ordi
nances, allowedly please and gratify a wicked imagination?
And are you not then perpetrating wickedness in your
thoughts, and contriving the further fulfilment of your
wickedness ! Yea, are you not guilty of these things some
times even in the very time of your attendance on ordi
nances, when you are in the immediate presence of God >
and while others have immediate intercourse with God,
and you likewise pretend to the same .' Do you not, even
in these circumstances, allow yourselves in wicked
thoughts and imaginations, voluntarily wallowing in known
wickedness ?
Are not some of you guilty of allowedly breaking God's
holy sabbatb, in maintaining no government of your
thoughts, thinking indifferently about any thing that comes
next to mind ; and not only thinking, but talking too about
common, worldly affairs ? And sometimes talking in such
a manner, as is not suitable even on other days ; talking
profanely, or in an unclean manner, sporting and diverting
yourselves in such conversation on God's holy day ? Yea,
it is well if some have not been thus guilty in the very time
of attendance on the ordinances of worship.
Examine yourselves, how it hath been with you. You
all attend many of the ordinances of divine worship. You
come to the house of God, attend public prayers, singing,
and preaching of the word ; and many of you come to the
Lord's supper, that holy ordinance, instituted for the
special commemoration of the greatest and most wonderful
of all divine acts towards mankind ; for the special and
visible representation of the most glorious and wonderful
things of our religion ; for the most solemn profession and
renewal of your engagement to God ; and for special
communion with Jesus Christ. Let such examine them
selves whether they do not allow themselves in known sin,
to the horrid profanation and pollution of this most sacred
ordinance. Examine and see whether you do not allow yourselves
in some way of dealing with your fellow-men, which you
have sufficient light to know to be evil ; or whether you do
not allow yourselves in a known evil behaviour towards
some person or persons of the families to which you re
spectively belong, as towards your husbands, your wives,
your children, or servants ; or your neighbours, in your
spirit and behaviour towards them, or in your talk of them.
Examine whether you do not some way willingly in
dulge an unclean appetite, in less or grosser acts of unclean
ness, or in your discourse, or in your imagination. Or do you
not give way to a lust after strong drink, or indulge your
selves in some vicious excess in gratifying some sensual
appetite in meat or drink, or otherwise.' Are you not
willingly guilty of vanity, and extravagance in your con
versation ?
Do you not, for all your attendance on ordinances, con
tinue in the allowed neglect of your precious souls, neg
lecting secret prayer or some known duty of private reli
gion? Or do you not allow yourselves in sabbath-break
ing ? — In all these ways are the ordinances of God's sacred
worship polluted and profaned.
Men are apt to act very treacherously and perversely in
the matter of self-examination. When they are put upon
examining themselves, they very often decline it, and will
not enter into any serious examination of themselves at all.
They hear uses of examination insisted on, but put them
off to others, and never seriously apply them to themselves.
— And if they do examine themselves, when they are put
upon it, they are exceedingly partial to themselves; they
spare themselves ; they do not search, and look, and pass a
judgment according to truth ; but so as unreasonably to
favour and justify themselves — If they can be brought to
examine themselves at all, whether they do not allow
themselves in known wickedness, although they attend on
divine ordinances, they will not do it impartially. Their
endeavour will not be indeed to know the truth of their
case, and to give a true answer to their consciences ; but to
blind themselves, to persuade and flatter themselves that
they do not allow themselves in known sin, whether it be
true or not. There are two things especially wherein
persons often act very perversely and falsely in this matter,

Sect. III.

A CALL TO SELF-EXAMINATION.

189

1. Persons very often deal very perversely in pretend
ing, that the sins in which they live are not known sins.
Nothing is more common surely, than for persons to flatter
themseives with this concerning the wickedness in which
they live. Let that wickedness be almost what it may,
they will plead to their consciences, and endeavour to still
them, that there is no evil in it, or that they do not know
that there is any evil in it. Men's own consciences can
best tell how they are wont to do in this matter. — There
is hardly any kind of wickedness that men commit, but
they will plead thus in excuse for it. They will plead
thus about their cheating and injustice, about their hatred
of their neighbours, about their evil speaking, about their
revengeful spirit, about their excessive drinking, about
their lying, their neglect of secret prayer, their lascivious-
ness, their unclean dalliances ; yea, they will plead ex
cuses for very gross acts of uncleanness, as fornication,
adultery, and what not. They have their vain excuses and
carnal reasonings in favour of all their evil actions. They
will say, What harm, what evil is there in such and such
ah action ? And if there be a plain rule against it, yet they
will plead that their circumstances are peculiar, and that
they are excepted from the general rule ; that their tempt
ation is so great, that they are excusable ; or some thing
will they find to plead.
If it be some thing upon which their lusts are much set,
and about which they feel remorse of conscience, they wili
never leave studying and contriving with all the art and
subtlety of which they are masters, till they shall have
found out some reason, some excuse, with which they
shall he able in some measure to quiet their consciences.
And whether after all they shall have made it out to blind
conscience or not, yet they will plead that their argument
is good, and it is no sin ; or if it be a sin, it is only a sin
of ignorance. — So men will plead for the wickedness which
they do in the dark. So without doubt some very gross
sinners plead to their consciences ; as would appear, if we
could but look into their hearts ; when indeed the strongest
argument they have, that in such a thing there is no evil, is
the strongest lust they have to it, the inordinate desire they
have to commit it.
It was the saying of one, Licitis perimus omnes ; that is,
We all perish by lawful things ; which is as much as to say,
men commonly live wickedly and go to hell, in those ways
which they flatter themselves to be lawful. Or at least
they flatter themselves, that they are sins of ignorance ;
they do not know them to be unlawful. — Thus, I make no
doubt some will be apt to do, in applying to themselves
this use of examination, if they can be persuaded to apply
it to themselves at all. Whetlier these things be true of
you, let your own consciences speak, you that neglect
secret prayer ; you that live in secret, unclean, lascivious
actions ; you that indulge an inordinate appetite for strong
drink ; you that defraud or oppress others ; you that
indulge a spirit of revenge and hatred towards your
neighbour. — Here I desire you to consider two or three
things. (1.) Not all sins, which one knows not with a certain
knowledge to be sinful, are justly called sins of ignorance.
Men often will excuse themselves for venturing upon a
sinful action or practice, with this, that they know not that
it is sinful ; which is at most true no otherwise, than as
they do not know it to be sinful with a certain knowledge,
or with the evidence of absolute demonstration ; although
at the same time it is a sin against their light, and against
great light. They have been so taught, that they have had
light enough to make them sensible that it is displeasing
to God, and not warranted or allowed by him. And they
do in their consciences think it to be sinful ; they are
secretly convinced of it, however they may pretend the
contrary, and labour to deceive themselves, and to per
suade themselves that they do not think there is any evil
in it.
Those sins which are contrary to sufficient information
and instruction, and contrary to the real dictates of their
own consciences, or to the judgment of their own minds ;
whether there be certain or demonstrative knowledge or
no ; these are what I would Be understood to mean,
when I speak of known sins. Such light as this, whether
there be absolutely certain knowledge or no, is sufficient

to render the action utterly inexcusable, and to render it,
when allowed, a horrible profanation and pollution of the
holy ordinances of God.
(2.) It is in vain for persons to pretend that those are
sins of ignorance, which they have often and clearly heard
testified against from the word of God. It will be found
to be so at last ; it will be found to be a vain thing for
persons who have lived under the light of the gospel, and
where all manner of iniquity is testified against, if they live
in immoral and vicious practices, to pretend that they are
sins of ignorance ; unless the case be very peculiar and
extraordinary. (3.) It is in vain for you to pretend that those are sins
of ignorance, of which you would not dare to proceed in
the practice, if you knew that your soul was to be required
of you this night. Persons do many things, for which
they plead, and pretend they think there is no evil in
them, who yet would as soon eat fire, as do the same, if
they knew that they were to stand before the judgment-
seat of Christ within four and twenty hours. This shows
that persons do but prevaricate, when they pretend that
their sins are sins of ignorance.
2. Another way wherein men deal falsely and per
versely in this matter, is, in pretending that they do not
allow themselves in those sins which they practise. They
either pretend that they know them not to be sins, or if
they cannot but own that, then they will say, they do not
allow themselves in them ; and so they hope God is not
very much provoked by them. They pretend this, though
they make a trade of them. They go on repeating one act
after another, without ever seriously repenting of past, or
resolving against future acts. But take heed that you do
not deceive yourselves in this matter ; for such pretences,
however they do something towards stilling your con
sciences now, will do nothing when you come to stand
before your righteous and holy Judge.

SECT. IV.
Address to such as attend ordinances, and yet allow them
selves in known sin.
Consider how holy and sacred the ordinances of God
are ; what mockery you are guilty of in making such a
show, and such pretences in attending ordinances, and yet
voluntarily acting the reverse of what you pretend. Con
sider that there is no sort of sinners with whom God is so
provoked, and who stand so guilty before him, as the pro-
faners of his ordinances. The fire of God's wrath is
kindled by none so much as by the polluters of holy
things. They are represented as those who are especially
guilty before God, in the third commandment : " The
Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in
vain." Why is, this annexed to this command, rather than
to any other of the ten, but because the breach of it espe
cially renders a man guilty in the sight of God ?
The taking of God's name in vain includes the pro
fanation and pollution of ordinances and holy things.
They do in a very dreadful manner take God's name in
vain, who attend on his ordinances, and yet live in known
sin ; for, as we have shown, they manifest the greatest
irreverence for him, and contempt of divine things. They
manifest a contempt of his authority, _ contempt of the
business and design of his ordinances, and a most careless
and irreverent spirit in things wherein they have immediate
converse with God. Ordinances, as we have shown, are
attended in the name of God ; and therefore, by such an
attendance on them, the name of God is greatly profaned.
You that attend ordinances in such a manner, take the
name of God so much in vain, that you use it only in
mockery, and so as to expose it to contempt. Such a way
of attending ordinances is a trampling of all that is sacred
under foot.
We have in Scripture scarce any such awful instances
of the immediate and miraculous vengeance of God, as on
the profaners of holy things. How did God consume
Nadab and Abihu, for offering strange fire before him !
How did he break forth upon Uzza, for handling the ark
with too much irreverence! 2 Sam. vi. 6, 7. And how
did he break forth on the children of Israel at Bethshemesh,

190

A WARNING TO PROFESSORS.

for profaning the ark ! " He smote of the people fifty thou
sand threescore and ten men," as in 1 Sam. vi. 19.
And God hath threatened in the New Testament, that
if any man " defile the temple of God, him shall God
destroy ; for the temple of God is holy," 1 Cor. iii. 17.
There is an emphasis in the expression. God will destroy
all sinners, let it be what sin it will which they commit,
and in which they continue ; and yet it is said, " If any
man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy," as
if it had been said, there is something peculiar m the case,
and God is especially provoked to destroy such, and con
sume them in the fire of his wrath ; and he will indeed
destroy them with a destruction especially dreadful.
So God hath declared, Gal. vi. 7. " That he will not be
mocked ;" i. e. if any presume to mock him, they will find
him, by experience, to be no contemptible being. God
will vindicate his holy majesty from the contempt of those
who dare to mock him, and he will do it effectually : they
shall fully find how dreadful a being he is, whose name
they have daringly profaned and polluted. Defilers and
profaners of ordinances, by known and allowed wicked
ness, provoke God more than the heathen, who have no
ordinances. Thus the wickedness of Judah and Jerusalem
is said to be far worse than that of Sodom, though the in
habitants of Sodom were, as we have reason to think, some
of the worst of the heathens. See Ezek. xvi. 46, 47, &c.
The sin of Sodom is here spoken of as a light thing in
comparison with the sins of Judah. And what should be
the reason, but that Judah enjoyed holy things which they
profaned and polluted, which Sodom had no opportunity
to do ? for it is not to be supposed, that Judah otherwise
arrived to the same pass that Sodom had.
Consider therefore, ye who allow yourselves in known
wickedness, and live in it, who yet come to the house of

God, and to his ordinances from time to time, without any
serious design of forsaking your sins, but, on the contrary,
with an intention of continuing in them, and who fre
quently go from the house of God to your wicked prac
tices ; consider how guilty you have made yourselves in the
sight of God, and how dreadfully God is provoked by you.
Ims a wonder of God's patience, that he doth not break
forth upon you, and strike you dead ina moment ; for you
profane holy things in a more dreadful manner than Uzza
did, when yet God struck him dead for his error. And
whereas he was struck dead for only one offence ; you are
guilty of the same sin from week to week, and from day
to day.
It isa wonder that God suffers you to live upon earth,
that he hath not, with a thunderbolt of his wrath, struck
you down to the bottomless pit long ago. You that are
allowedly and voluntarily living in sin, who have gone on
hitherto in sin, are still going on, and do not design any
other than to go on yet ; it is a wonder that the Almighty's
thunder lies still, and suffers you to sit in his house, or to
live upon earth. It is a wonder that the earth will bear you,
and that hell doth not swallow you up. It is a wonder
that fire doth not come down from heaven, or come up
from hell, and devour you ; that hell-flames do not enlarge
themselves to reach you, and that the bottomless pit hath
not swallowed you up.
However, that you are as yet borne with, is no argument
that your damnation slumbers. The anger of God is not
like the passions of men, that it should be in haste. There
is a day of vengeance and recompence appointed for the
vessels of wrath; and when the day shall have come, and
the iniquity shall be full, none shall deliver out of God's
hand. Then will he recompense, even recompense into
your bosoms.

THE FINAL JUDGMENT :

THE WORLD JUDGED RIGHTEOUSLY BY JESUS CHRIST.

Acts xvii. 31.
Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge
the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath
ordained. INTRODUCTION.
These words are a part of the speech which Paul made
in Mars' hill, a place of concourse of the judges and learned
men of Athens. Athens was the principal city of that part
of Greece which was formerly a commonwealth by itself,
and was the most noted place in the whole world for learn
ing, philosophy, and human wisdom ; and it continued so
for many ages; till at length the Romans having con
quered Greece, its renown from that time began to di
minish ; and Rome having borrowed learning of it, began
to rival it in science, and in the polite and civil arts. How
ever, it was still very famous in the days of Christ and the
apostles, and was a place of concourse for wise and
learned men.
Therefore, when Paul came thither, and began to preach
concerning Jesus Christ, a man who had lately been cru
cified at Jerusalem, (as in the 18th verse,) the philosophers
thronged about him, to hear what he had to say. The
strangeness of his doctrine excited their curiosity ; for they
spent their time in endeavouring to find out new things,
and valued themselves greatly upon their being the authors
of new discoveries, as we are informed in ver. 21. They

despised his doctrine in their hearts, and esteemed it very
ridiculous, calling the apostle a babbler ; for the preaching of
Christ crucified was to the Greeks foolishness, 1 Cor. i.
23. yet the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers, two differ
ent sects, had a mind to hear what the babbler had to say.
Upon this Paul rises up in the midst of them, and
makes a speech ; and as he speaks to philosophers and men
of learning, he speaks quite differently from his common
mode of address. There is evidently, in his discourse, a
greater depth of thought, more philosophical reasoning, and
a more elevated style, than are to be found in his ordinary
discourses to common men. His speech is such as was
likely to draw the attention and gain the assent of philo
sophers. He shows himself to be no babbler, but a man
who could offer such reason, as they, however they valued
themselves upon their wisdom, were not able to gainsay.
His practice here is agreeable to what he saith of himself,
1 Cor. ix. 22. " that he became all things to all men, that
he might by all means save some." He not only to the
weak became as weak, that he might gain the weak ; but
to the wise he became as wise, that he might gain the
wise. In the first place, he reasons with them concerning their
worship of idols. He declares to them the true God, and
points out how unreasonable it is to suppose, that he de
lights in such superstitious worship. He begins with this,
because they were most likely to hearken to it, as being so
evidently agreeable to the natural light of human reason,
and also agreeable to what some of their own poets and

Sect. I.

GOD IS THE SUPREME JUDGE.

191

philosophers had said, (ver. 28.) He begins not immedi
ately to tell them about Jesus Christ, his dying for sin
ners, and his resurrection from the dead ; but first draws
their attention with that to which they were more likely to
hearken ; and then, having thus introduced himself, he
proceeds to speak concerning Jesus Christ.
He tells them, the times of this ignorance concerning
the true God, in which they had hitherto been, God
winked at; he suffered the world to lie in heathenish
darkness ; but now the appointed time was come, when
he expected men should every where repent ; " because he
had appointed a day, in tlie which he will judge the
world in righteousness by lhat man whom he hath ordain
ed." As an enforcement to the duty of turning to God
from their ignorance, superstition, and idolatry, the apostle
brings in this, that God had appointed such a day of judg
ment. And as a proof of this, he brings the resurrection of
Christ from the dead.
Concerning the words of the text, we may observe.
That in them the apostle speaks of the general judg
ment : He will judge the world. — The time when this
shall be, on the appointed day : He hath appointed a day.
— How the world is to be judged : In righteousness. —
The man by whom it is to be judged : Christ Jesus whom
God raised from the dead.
Doctrine. There is a day coming, in which there will
be a general righteous judgment of the whole world, by
Jesus Christ.
In speaking upon this subject, I shall show, That God
is the Supreme judge of the world. That there is a time
coming, when God will, in the most public and solemn
manner, judge the whole world. That the person by whom
he will judge it is Jesus Christ. That the transactions of
that day will be greatly interesting and truly awful. That
all shall be done in righteousness. And finally, I shall
take notice of those things which shall be immediately
consequent upon the judgment.

SECT. I.
God is the supreme judge ofthe world.
1. God is so by right. He is by right the supreme and
absolute ruler and disposer of all things, both in the na
tural and moral world. The rational understanding part
of the creation is indeed subject to a different sort of
government from that to which irrational creatures are
subject. God governs the sun, moon, and stars ; he
governs even the motes of dust which fly in the air. Not
a hair of our heads falleth to the ground without our
heavenly Father. God also governs the brute creatures;
by his providence, he orders, according to his own de
crees, all events concerning those creatures. And rational
creatures are subject to the same sort of government; all
their actions,* and all events relating to them, being or
dered by superior providence, according to absolute de
crees ; so that no event that relates to them ever happens
without the disposal of God, according to his own de
crees. The rule of this government is God's wise decree,
and nothing else.
But rational creatures, because they are intelligent and
voluntary agents, are the subjects of another kind of go
vernment. They are so only with respect to those of their
actions, in which they are causes by counsel, or with re
spect to their voluntary actions. The government of which
I now speak is.called moral government, and consists in
two things, in giving laws, and in judging.
God is, with respect to this sort of government, by right
the sovereign ruler of the world. He is possessed of this
right by reason of his infinite greatness and excellency,
by which he merits, and is perfectly and solely fit for, the
office of supreme ruler. He that is so excellent as to be
infinitely worthy of the highest respect of the creature,
hath thereby a right to that respect ; he deserves it by a
merit of condignity ; so that it is injustice to deny it to
him. And he that is perfectly wise and true, and is only
* Except as they are sinful ,- for the sinfulness of actions is not included

so regarded, hath a right in every thing to be regarded,
and to have his determinations attended to and obeyed.
God hath also a right to the character of supreme ruler,
by reason of the absolute dependence of every creature
on him. All creatures, and rational creatures no less than
others, are wholly derived from him, and every moment
are wholly dependent upon him for being, and for all
good : so that they are properly his possession. And as,
by virtue of this, he hath a right to give his creatures
whatever rules of conduct he pleases, or whatever rules are
agreeable to his own wisdom ; so the mind and will of the
creature ought to be entirely conformed to the nature and
will of tbe Creator, and to the rules he gives, that are ex
pressive of it.
For the same reason, he hath a right to judge their
actions and conduct, and to fulfil the sanction of his law.
He who hath an absolute and independent right to give
laws, hath evermore the same right to judge those to whom
the laws are given. It is absolutely necessary that there
should be a judge of reasonable creatures ; and sanctions,
or rewards and punishments, annexed to rules of conduct,
are necessary to the being of laws. A person may instruct
another without sanctions, but not give laws. However,
these sanctions themselves are vain, are as good as none,
without a judge to determine the execution of them. As
God hath a right to be judge, so hath he a right to be the
supreme judge; and none hath a right to reverse his judg
ments, to receive appeals from him, or to say to him, Why
judgest thou thus ?
2. God is, intact, the supreme judge of the world. He
hath power sufficient to vindicate his own right. As he
hath a right which cannot be disputed, so he hath power
which cannot be controlled. He is possessed of omnipo
tence, wherewith to maintain his dominion over the world;
and he doth maintain his dominion in the moral as well as
the natural world. Men may refuse subjection to God
as a lawgiver; they may shake off the yoke of his laws
by rebellion ; yet they cannot withdraw themselves from
his judgment. Although they will not have God for their
lawgiver, yet they shall have him for their judge. The
strongest of creatures can do nothing to control God, or to
avoid him while acting in his judicial capacity. He is
able to bring them to his judgment-seat, and is also able
to execute the sentence which he shall pronounce.
There was once a notable attempt made by opposition
of power entirely to shake off the yoke of the moral go
vernment of God, both as lawgiver, and as judge. This
attempt was made by the angels, the most mighty of
creatures; but they miserably failed in it: God notwith
standing acted as their judge in casting those proud spirits
out of heaven, and binding them in chains of darkness
unto a further judgment, and a further execution. " God
is wise in heart and mighty in strength ; who hath harden
ed himself against him, and hath prospered?" Job ix. 4.
Wherein the enemies of God deal proudly, he is above
them. He ever hath acted as judge in bestowing what
rewards, and inflicting what punishments, he pleased on
the children of men. And so he doth still ; he is daily
fulfilling the promises and threatenings of the law, in dis ¦
posing of the souls of the children of men, and so he
evermore will act.
God acteth as judge towards the children of men more
especially, (1.) In man's particular judgment at death. Then the
sentence is executed, and the reward bestowed in part;
which is not done without a judgment. The soul, when
it departs from the body, appears before God to be dis
posed of by him, according to his law. But by this
appearing before God, to be judged at death, we need un
derstand no more than this, that the soul is made imme
diately sensible of the presence of God, God manifesting
himself immediately to the soul, with the glory and ma
jesty of a judge ; that the sins of the wicked, and the
righteousness of the saints, are brought by God to the
view of their consciences, so that they know tbe reason of
the sentence given, and their consciences are made to tes
tify to the justice of it; and that thus the will of God for
the fulfilment of the law, in their reward or punishment, is
in the decrees of God, who is pure act from eternity to eternity.

192
made known to them and executed. This is undoubtedly
done at every man's death.
(2.) In the great and general judgment, when all men
shall together appear before the judgment-seat to be
judged: and which judgment will be much more solemn,
and the sanctions of the law will to a further degree be
fulfilled.  But this brings me to another branch of the
subject. SECT. II.
That there is a time coming when God will, in the most
public and solemn manner, judge the whote world of
mankind.The doctrine of a general judgment is not sufficiently
discoverable by the light of nature. Indeed some of the
heathens had some obscure notions concerning a future
judgment. But the light of nature, or mere unassisted
reason, was not sufficient to instruct the world of fallen
men in this doctrine. It is one of the peculiar doctrines
of revelation, a doctrine of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
There were indeed some hints of it in the Old Testament,
as in Psal. xcvi. 1 3. " The Lord cometh to judge the world
with righteousness, and his people with his truth." And
Eccl. xii. 14. " For God will bring every work into judg
ment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or
whether it be evil." And in some other such like passages.
But this docirine is with abundantly the greatest clearness
revealed in the New Testament : there we have it frequent
ly and particularly declared and described with its circum
stances. However, although it be a doctrine of revelation, and be
brought to light by the gospel, the brightest and most
glorious revelation that God hath given to the world ; yet
it is a docirine which is entirely agreeable to reason, and
of which reason gives great confirmation. That there will
be a time before the dissolution of the world, when the
inhabitants of it shall stand before God, and give an ac
count of their conduct; and that God will in a public
manner, by a general and just judgment, set all things to
rights respecting their moral behaviour, is a doctrine en
tirely agreeable to reason ; which I shall now endeavour
to make appear. But I would premise, that what we
would inquire into, is not whether all mankind shall be
judged by God ; for that is a thing that the light of nature
clearly teaches, and we have already spoken something of
it : but whether it be rational to think that there will be a
public judgment of all mankind together. This I think-
will appear very rational from the following considerations.
1. Such a judgment will be a more glorious display of
God's majestv and dominion ; it will be more glorious
because it will be more open, public, and solemn. — Al
though God now actually exercises the most sovereign
dominion over the earth ; although he reigns and doth all
things according to his own will, ordering all events as
seemeth to himself good ; and although he is actually
judge in the earth, continually disposing of men's souls
according to their works ; yet he rules after a more hidden
and secret manner, insomuch lhat it is common among the
proud sons of men to refuse acknowledging his dominion.
Wicked men question the very existence of a God, who
taketh care of the world, who ordereth the affairs of it, and
judgeth in it ; and therefore they cast off the fear of him.
Many of the kings and great men of the earth do not suit
ably acknowledge the God who is above them, but seem
to look upon themselves as supreme, and therefore tyran
nize over mankind, as if they were in no wise accountable
for their conduct. There have been, and now are, many
atheistical persons, who acknowledge not God's moral
dominion over mankind; and therefore they throw off the
yoke of his laws and government. And how great a part
of the world is there now, and has there always been, that
has not acknowledged that the government of the world
belongs to the God of Israel, or to the God of Christians ;
but has paid homage to other imaginary deities, as though
they were their sovereign lords and supreme judges. Over
how great a part of the world hath Satan usurped the
dominion, and set up himself for God, in opposition to
the true God !
Now, how agreeable to reason is it, lhat God, in the

THE FINAL JUDGMENT.

winding up of things, when the present state of mankind
shall come to a conclusion, should in the most open and
public manner, manifest his dominion over the inhabitants
ofthe earth, by bringing them all, high and low, rich and
poor, kings and subjects, together befoi_ him to be judged
with respect to all that they ever did in the world ! that he
should thus openly discover his dominion in this world,
where his authority hath been so much questioned, de
nied, and proudly opposed ! That those very persons,
who have thus denied and opposed the authority of God,
should be themselves, with the rest ofthe world, brought
before the tribunal of God ! That however God be not
now visibly present upon earth, disposing and judging in
that visible manner that earthly kings do ; yet at the con
clusion of the world he should make his dominion visible
to all, and with respect to all mankind, so that every eve
shall see him, and even they who have denied him shall
find, that God is supreme Lord of ihem, and of the whole
world !
2. The end of judgment will be more fully answered
by a public and general, than only by a particular and
private, judgment. The end for which there is any judg
ment at all is to display and glorify the righteousness of
God ; which end is more fully accomplished by calling
men to an account, bringing their actions to the trial, ana
determining their state according to them, the whole world,
both angels and men, being present to behold, than if the
same things should be done in a more private way. At
the dav of judgment there will be the most glorious dis
play of the justice of God that ever was made. Then God
will appear to be entirely righteous towards, every one ; the
justice of all his moral government will on that day be at
once discovered. Then all objections will be removed;
the conscience of everv man shall be satisfied ; the blas
phemies of the ungodly will be for ever put to silence,
and argument will be given for the saints and angels to
praise God for ever: Rev. xix. 1,2." And after these
things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven, say
ing, Alleluia; salvation, and glory, and honour, and power
be to the Lord our God : for true and righteous are his
judgments." 3. It is very agreeable to reason, that the irregularities
which are so open and manifest in the world, should, when
the world comes to an end, be publicly rectified by the
supreme governor. The infinitely wise God, who riiade
this world to be a habitation for men, and placed man
kind to dwell here, and hath appointed man his end and
work, must take care ofthe order and good government of
the world, which he hath thus made. He is not regardless
how things proceed here on earth : it would be a reproach
to his wisdom, and to the perfect rectitude of his nature, to
suppose so. This world is a world of confusion ; it hath
been filled with irregularity and confusion ever since the
fall ; and the irregularities of it are not only private, re
lating to the actions of particular persons ; but states,
kingdoms, nations, churches, cities, and all societies of
men in all ages, have been full of public irregularities.
The affairs of the world, so far as they are in the hands
of men, are carried on in the most irregular and confused
manner. Though justice sometimes takes place, yet how often do
injustice, cruelty, and oppression prevail ! How often are
the righteous condemned, and the wicked acquitted and
rewarded ! How common is it for the virtuous and pious
to be depressed, and the wicked to be advanced ! How
many thousands ofthe best men have suffered intolerable
cruelties, merely for their virtue and piety, and in this
world have had no help, no refuge to fly to! The world
is very much ruled by the pride, covetousness, and pas
sions of men. Solomon takes much notice of such like
irregularities in the present state, (in his book of Eccle-
siastes,) whereby he shows the vanity of the world.
Now, how reasonable is it to suppose, that God, when
he shall come and put an end to the present state of man
kind, will in an open, public manner, the whole world
being present, rectify all these disorders ! and that he will
bring all things to a trial by a general judgment, in order
that those who have been oppressed may be delivered ;
that the righteous cause may be pleaded and vindicated,
and wickedness, which has been approved, honoured, and

Sect. III.

JESUS WILL BE THE JUDGE.

193

rewarded, may receive its due disgrace and punishment ;
that tho proceedings of kings and earthly judges may be
inquired into by him, whose eyes are as a flame of fire ;
and that the public actions of men may be publicly ex
amined and recompensed according to their desert 1 How
agreeable is it to divine wisdom thus to order things, and
how worthy of the supreme governor of the world 1
4. By a public and general judgment, God more fully
accomplishes the reward he designs for the godly, and the
punishment he designs for the wicked. One part of the
reward which God intends for his saints, is the honour
which he intends to bestow upon them. He will honour
them in the most public and open manner, before the
angels, before all mankind, and before them that hated
them. . And it is most suitable that it should be so : it is
suitable that those holy, humble souls, that have been
hated by wicked men, have been cruelly treated and put
to shame by them, and who have been haughtily domi
neered over, should be openly acquitted, commended, and
crowned, before all the world.
So one part of the punishment of the ungodly will be
the open shame and disgrace which they shall suffer.
Although many of them have proudly lifted up their
heads in this world, have had a very high thought of
themselves, and have obtained outward honour among
men ; yet God will put them to open shame, by showing
all their wickedness and moral filthiness before the whole
assembly of angels and men ; by manifesting his abhor
rence of them, in placing them upon his left hand, among
devils and' foul spirits ; and by turning them away into
the most loathsome, as well as most dreadful, pit of hell,
to dwell there for ever.— Which ends may be much more
fully accomplished in a general, than in a particular judg
ment. SECT. III.
27ie world wiil be judged by Jesus Christ.
The person by whom God will judge the world, is
Jesus Christ, Go_-man. The second person in the Trinity,
that same person of whom we read in our Bibles, who
was born of the Virgin Mary, lived in Galilee and Judea,
and was at last crucified without the gates of Jerusalem,
will come to judge the world both in his divine and human
nature, in the same human body that was crucified, and
rose again, and ascended up into heaven : Acts i. 1 1 .
"This same Jesus that is taken up from you into heaven,
shall come in like manner, as ye have seen him go into
heaven." It will be his human nature which will then be
seen by the bodily eyes of men. However, his divine
nature, which is united to the human, will then also be
present : and it will be by the wisdom of that divine
nature that Christ will see and judge.
Here naturally arises an inquiry, Why is Christ ap
pointed to judge the world rather than the Father or the
Holy Ghost ? We cannot pretend to know all the reasons
of the divine dispensations. God is not obliged to give
us an account of them. But so much may we learn by
divine revelation, as to discover marvellous wisdom in
what he determines and orders with respect to this matter.
We learn,
1. That God seeth fit, that he who is in the human
nature, should be the judge of those who are of the human
nature : John v. 27. "And hath given him authority to
execute judgment also, because he is the Son of man."
Seeing there is one of the persons of the Trinity united to
the human nature, God chooses, in all his transactions with
mankind, to transact by him. He did so of old, in his
discoveries of himself to the patriarchs, in giving the law,
in leading the children of Israel through the wilderness,
and in the manifestations he made of himself in the
tabernacle and temple : when, although Christ was not
actually incarnate, yet he was so in design, it was ordained
and agreed in the covenant of redemption, that he should
become incarnate. And since the incarnation of Christ,
God governs both the church and the world by Christ.
So he will also at the end judge the world by him. All
men shall be judged by God, and yet at the same time by
one invested with their own nature.
God seeth fit, that those who have bodies, as all man-
vol. n. o

kind will have at the day of judgment, should see their
judge with their bodily eyes, and hear him with their
bodily ears. If one of the other persons of the Trinity
had been appointed to be judge, there must have been
some extraordinary outward appearance made on purpose
to be a token of the divine presence, as it was of old,
before Christ was incarnate. But now there is no neces
sity of that : now one of the persons of the Trinity is
actually incarnate, so that God by him may appear to
bodily eyes without any miraculous visionary appearance.
2. Christ hath this honour of being the judge of the
world given him, as a suitable reward for his sufferings.
This is a part of Christ's exaltation. The exaltation of
Christ is given him in reward for his humiliation and
sufferings. This was stipulated in the covenant of re
demption ; and we are expressly told, it was given him in
reward for his sufferings, Phil. ii. 8 — 12. "And being
found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and be
came obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.
Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given
him a name which is above every name : that at the name
of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and
things in earth, and things under the earth ; and that every
tongue should confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the
glory of God the Father."
God seeth meet, that he who appeared in such a low
estate amongst mankind, without form or comeliness,
having his divine glory veiled, should appear amongst
men a second time, in his own proper majesty and glory,
without a veil ; to the end that those who saw him here
at the first, as a poor, frail man, not having where to lay
his head, subject to much hardship and affliction, may see
him the second time in power and great glory, invested
with the glory and dignity of the absolute Lord of heaven
and earth ; and that he who once tabernacled with men,
and was despised and rejected of them, may .have the
honour of arraigning ail men before his throne, and judging
them with respect to their eternal state ! John v. 21 — 24.
God seeth meet that he who was once arraigned before
the judgment-seat of men, and was there most vilely
treated, being mocked, spitted upon, and condemned, and
who was at last crucified, should be rewarded, by having
those very persons brought to his tribunal, that they may see
him in glory, and be confounded ; and that he may have
the disposal of them for all eternity ; as Christ said to
the high priest while arraigned before him, Matt. xxvi. 64.
" Hereafter ye shall see the Son of man sitting on the right
hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven."
3. It is needful that Christ should be the judge of the
world, in order that he may finish the work of redemption.
It is the will of God, that he who is the redeemer of the
world should be a complete redeemer ; and that therefore
he, should have the whole work of redemption left in his
hands. Now, the redemption of fallen man consists not
merely in the impetration of redemption, by obeying the
divine law, and making atonement for sinners, or in pre
paring the way for their salvation, but it consists in a great
measure, and is actually fulfilled, in converting sinners to
the knowledge and love of the truth, in carrying them on
in the way of grace and true holiness through life, and in
finally raising their bodies to life, in glorifying them, in
pronouncing the blessed sentence upon them, in crowning
them with honour and glory in the sight, of men and
angels, and in completing and perfecting their reward.
Now, it is necessary that Christ should do this, iri order to
his finishing the work which he hath begun. Raising the
saints from the dead, judging them, and fulfilling the sen
tence, is part of their salvation ; and therefore it was ne
cessary that Christ should be appointed judge of the world,
in order that he might finish his work. (John vi. 39, 40.
chap. v. 25 — 31.) The redemption of the bodies of the
saints is part of the work of redemption ; the resurrection
to life is called a redemption of their bodies, (Rom. viii.
23/) It is the will of God, that Christ himself should have
the fulfilling of that for which he died, and for which he
suffered so much. Now, the end for which he suffered
and died was the complete salvation of his people ; and
this shall be obtained at the last judgment, and not before.
Therefore it was necessary that Christ be appointed judge,

194

THE FINAL JUDGMENT.

P
fc

in order that he himself might fully accomplish the end
for which he had both suffered and died. When Christ
had finished his appointed sufferings, God did, as it were,
jut the purchased inheritance into his hands, to be kept
or believers, and be bestowed upon them at the day of
judgment. 4. It was proper that he who is appointed king of the
church should rule till he should have put all his enemies
under his feet ; in order to which, he must be the judge
of his enemies, as well as of his people. One of the
offices of Christ, as redeemer, is that of a king ; he is
appointed king of the church, and head over all things to
the church ; and in order that his kingdom be complete,
and tlie design of his reign be accomplished, he must con
quer all his enemies, and then he will deliver up the king
dom to the Father : 1 Cor. xv. 24, 25. "Then cometh
the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to
God, even the Father ; when he shall have put down all
rule, and all authority and power. For he must reign till
he hath put all enemies under his feet." Now, when
Christ shall have brought his enemies, who had denied,
opposed, and rebelled against him, to his judgment-seat,
and shall have passed and executed sentence upon them,
this will be a final and complete victory over them, a vic
tory which shall put an end to the war. And it is proper
that he who at present reigns, and is carrying on the war
against those who are of the opposite kingdom, should
have the honour of obtaining the victory, and finishing
the war.
5. It is for the abundant comfort qf the saints that
Christ is appointed to be their judge. The covenant of
grace, with all its circumstances, and all those events to
which it hath relation, is every way so contrived of God,
as to give strong consolation to believers : for God de
signed the gospel for a glorious manifestation of his grace
to them ; and therefore every thing in it is so ordered, as
to manifest the most grace and mercy.
Now, it is for the abundant consolation of the saints,
that their own Redeemer is appointed to be their judge ;
that the same person who spilled his blood for them hath
the determination of their state left with him ; so that
they need not doubt but that they shall have what he was
at so much cost to procure.
What matter of joy to them will it be at the last day,
to lift up their eyes, and behold the person in whom they
have trusted for salvation, to whom they have fled for re
fuge, upon whom they have built as their foundation for
eternity, and whose voice they have often heard, inviting
them to himself for protection and safety, coming to judge
them. 6. That Christ is appointed to be the judge of the world,
will be for the more abundant conviction qf the ungodly.
It will be for their conviction, that they are judged and
condemned by that very person whom they have rejected,
by whom they might have been saved, who shed his blood
to give them an opportunity to be saved, who was wont to
offer his righteousness to them, when they were in their
state of trial, and who many a time called and invited
them to come to him, that they might be saved. How
justly will they be condemned by him whose salvation they
have rejected, whose blood they have despised, whose
many calls they have refused, and whom they have pierced
by their sins !
How much will it be for their conviction, when they
shall hear the sentence of condemnation pronounced, to
reflect with themselves, how often hath this same person,
who now passes sentence of condemnation upon me, call
ed me, in his word, and by his messengers, to accept of
him, and to give myself to him 1 How often hath he
knocked at the door of my heart ! and had it not been for
my own folly and obstinacy, how might I have had him
for my Saviour, who is now my incensed Jiulge !

SECT. IV.
Christ's coming, the resurrection, the judgment prepared, the
books opened, the sentence pronounced and executed.
1. Christ Jesus will, in a most magnificent man
ner, descend from heaven with all the holy angels. The

man Christ Jesus is now in the heaven of heavens, or, as
the apostle expresses it, far above all heavens, Eph. iv. 10.
And there he hath been ever since his ascension, being
there enthroned in glory, in the midst of millions of angels
and blessed spirits. But when the time appointed for the
day of judgment shall have come, notice of it will be
given in those happy regions, and Christ will descend to
the earth, attended with all those heavenly hosts, in a
most solemn, awful, and glorious manner. Christ will
come with divine majesty, he will come in the glory of the
Father, Matt. xvi. 27. " For the Son of man shall come
in the glory of his Father, with his angels."
We can now conceive but little of the holy and awful
magnificence in which Christ will appear, as he shall come
in the clouds of heaven, or of the glory of his retinue.
How mean and despicable, in comparison with it, is the
most splendid appearance that earthly princes can make !
A glorious visible light will shine round about him, and
the earth, with all nature, will tremble at his presence.
How vast and innumerable will that host be which will
appeal- with him ! Heaven will be for the time deserted of
its inhabitants.
We may argue the glory of Christ's appearance, from
his appearance at other times. When he appeared in
transfiguration, his face did shine as tbe sun, and his rai
ment was white as the light. The apostle Peter long after
spake of this appearance in magnificent terms, 2 Pet. i.
16, 17. " We were eye-witnesses of his majesty; for he
received from God the Father honour and glory, when
there came such a voice to him from the excellent glory."
And his appearance to St. Paul at his conversion, and to
St. John, as related in Rev. i. 13, &c. were very grand
and magnificent. But we may conclude, that his appear
ance at the day of judgment will be vastly more so than
either of these, as the occasion will be so much greater.
We have good reason to think, that our nature, in the
present frail state, could not bear the appearance of the
majesty in which he will then be seen.
We may argue the glory of his appearance, from the ap
pearances of some of the angels to men ; as of the angel
that appeared at Christ's sepulchre, after his resurrection,
Matt, xxviii. 3. " His countenance was like lightning,
and his raiment white as snow." The angels will doubt-
iess aft of them make as glorious an appearance at the day
of judgment, as ever any of them have made on former
occasions. How glorious, then, will be the retinue of
Christ, made up of so many thousands of such angels !
and how much more glorious will Christ, the judge him
self, appear, than those his attendants ! Doubtless their
God will appear immensely more glorious than they.
Christ will thus descend into our air, to such a distance
from the surface of the earth, that every one, when all shall
be gathered together, shall see him, Rev. i. 7. " Behold,
he cometh with clouds, and every eye shall see him."
Christ will make this appearance suddenly, and to the
great surprise of the inhabitants of the earth. It is there
fore compared to a cry at midnight, by which men are
wakened m a great surprise.
2. At the sound of the last trumpet, the dead shall rise,
and the living shall be changed. As soon as Christ is
descended, the last trumpet shall sound, as a notification
to all mankind to appear ; at which mighty sound shall
the dead be immediately raised, and the living changed :
1 Cor. xv. 52. " For the trumpet shall sound, and the
dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be
changed." Matt. xxiv. 31. " And he shall send his angels
with a great sound of a trumpet." 1 Thess. iv. 16. "For
the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout,
with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of
God." There will be some great and remarkable signal
given for the rising of the dead, which it seems will be
some mighty sound, caused by the angels of God, who
shall attend on Christ.
Upon this all the dead shall rise from their graves ; all,
both small and great, who shall have lived upon earth
since the foundation of the world ; those who died before
the flood, and those who were drowned in the flood, all
that have died since that time, and that shall die to the
end of the world. There will be a great moving upon the
face of the earth, and in the waters, in bringing bone to

Sect. IV.

CHRIST'S COMING, THE RESURRECTION, &c.

1 95

his bone, in opening graves, and bringing together all the
scattered particles of dead bodies. . The earth shall give
up the dead that are in it, and the sea shall give up the
dead that are in it.
However the parts of the bodies of many are divided
and scattered ; however many have been burnt, and their
bodies have been turned to ashes and smoke, and driven
to the four winds ; however many have been eaten of
wild beasts, of the fowls of heaven, and the fishes of the
sea ; however many have consumed away upon the face of
the earth, and great part of their bodies have ascended in
exhalations ; yet the all-wise and all-powerful God can
immediately bring every part to his part again.
Of this vast multitude some shall rise to life, and others
to condemnation. John v. 28, 29. " All that are in the
graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth, they that
nave done good, unto the resurrection of life ; and they
that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation."
When the bodies are prepared, the departed souls shall
again enter into their bodies, and be re-united to them,
never more to be separated. The souls of the wicked
shall be brought up out of hell, though not out of misery,
and shall very unwillingly enter into their bodies, which
will be but eternal prisons to them. Rev. xx. 13. " And
death and hell delivered up the dead that were in them."
They shall lift their eyes full of the utmost amazement
and horror to see their awful Judge. And perhaps the
bodies with which they shall be raised will be most filthy
and loathsome, thus properly corresponding to the inward,
moral turpitude of their souls.
The souls of the righteous shall descend from heaven
together with Christ and his angels : 1 Thess. iv. 14.
" Them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with
him." They also shall be re-united to their bodies, that
they may be glorified with them. They shall receive their
bodies prepared by God to be mansions of pleasure to all
eternity. They shall be every way fitted for the uses, the
exercises, and delights of perfectly holy and glorified souls.
They shall be clothed with a superlative beauty, similar to
that of Christ's glorious body : Phil. iii. 21. " Who shall
change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his
glorious body." Their bodies shall rise incorruptible, no
more liable to pain or disease, and with an extraordinary
vigour and vivacity, like that of those spirits that are as a
flame of fire. 1 Cor. xv. 43, 44. " It is sown in dishonour,
it is raised in glory : it is sown in weakness, it is raised in
Eower : it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual
ody." With what joy will the souls and bodies of the
saints meet, and with what joy will they lift up their heads
out of their graves to behold the glorious sight of the
appearing of Christ 1 And it will be a glorious sight to see
those saints arising out of their graves, putting off their
corruption, and putting on incorruption and glory.
At the same time, those that shall then he aiive upon
the earth shall be changed. Their bodies shall pass through
a great change, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye ;
1 Cor. xv. 51, 52. " Behold, I show you a great mystery ;
We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a
moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump."
The bodies of the wicked then living will be changed into
such hideous things, as shall be answerable to the loath
some souls that dwell in them, and such as shall be pre
pared to receive and administer eternal torments without
dissolution. But the bodies of the righteous shall be
changed into the same glorious and immortal form in which
those that shall be raised will appear.
3. They shall all be brought to appear before Christ, the
godly being placed on the right hand, the wicked on the
left; Matt. xxv. 31, 32, 33. The wicked, however un
willing, however full of fear and horror, shall be brought
or driven before the judgment-seat. However they may
try to hide themselves, and for this purpose creep into dens
and caves of the mountains, and cry to the mountains to
fall on them, and hide them from the face of him that
sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb ;
yet there shall not one escape ; to the judge they must
come, and stand on the left hand with devils. On the
contrary, the righteous will be joyfully conducted to Jesus
Christ, probably by the angels. Their joy will, as it were,
give them wings to carry them thither. They will with
o 2

ecstasies and raptures of delight meet their friend and
Saviour, come into his presence, and stand at his right
hand. Besides the one standing on the right hand and the other
on the left, there seems to be this difference between them,
that when the dead in Christ shall be raised, they will all
be caught up into the air, where Christ shall be, and shall
be there at his right hand during the judgment, never more
to set their feet on this earth. Whereas the wicked shall
be left standing on the earth, there to abide the judgment.
1 Thess. iv. 16, 17. " The dead in Christ shall rise first;
then we which are alive and remain, shall be caught up
together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the
air : and so shall we ever be with the Lord."
And what a vast congregation will there be of all the
men, women, and children that shall have lived upon earth
from the beginning to the end of the world ! Rev. xx. 12.
" And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God."
4. The next thing will be, that the books shall be open
ed : Rev. xx. 12. " I saw the dead, great and small, stand
before God ; and the books were opened." Which books
seem to be these two, the book of God's remembrance, and
tlie book of Scripture ; the former as the evidence of their
deeds which are to be judged, the latter as the rule of judg
ment. The works both of the righteous and of the wicked
will be brought forth, that they may be judged according
to them, and those works will be tried according to the
appointed and written rule.
(1 .) The works of both righteous and wicked will be
rehearsed. The book of God's remembrance will be
first opened. The various works of the children of men
are, as it were, written by God in a book of remembrance,
Mai. iii. 16. "A book of remembrance was written before
him." However ready ungodly men may be to make
light of their own sins, and to forget them ; yet God never
forgetteth any of them : neither doth God forget any of
the good works of the saints. If they give but a cup of
cold water with a spirit of charity, God remembers it.
The evil works of the wicked shall then be brought forth
to light. They must then hear of all their profaneness,
their impenitence, their obstinate unbelief, their abuse of
ordinances, and various other sins. The various aggrava
tions of their sins will also be brought to view, as how this
man sinned after such and such warnings, that after the
receipt of such and such mercies ; one after being so and
so favoured with outward light, another after having been
the subject of inward conviction, excited by the immediate
agency of God. Concerning these sins, they shall be
called to account to see what answer they can make for
themselves : Matt. xii. 36. " But I say unto you, that every
idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account
thereof in the day of judgment." Rom. xiv. 12. " So then
every one of us shall give account of himself to God."
The good works of the saints will also be brought forth
as evidences of their sincerity, and of their interest in the
righteousness of Christ. As to their evil works, they will
not be brought forth against them on that day ; for the guilt
of them will not lie upon them, they being clothed with the
righteousness of Jesus Christ. The Judge himself will
have taken the guilt of their sins upon him ; therefore
their sins will not stand against them in the book of God's
remembrance. The account of them will appear to have
been cancelled before that time. The account that will be
found in God's book will not be of debt, but of credit.
God cancels their debts, and sets down their, good works,
and is pleased, as it were, to make himself a debtor for
them, by his own gracious act.
Both good and bad will be judged according to their
works : Rev. xx. 12. " And the dead were judged out of
those things that were found written in the books, accord
ing to their works ;" and ver. 13. " And they were judged
every man according to their works " Though the right
eous are justified by faith, and not by their works ; yet they
shall be judged according to their works : then works shall
be brought forth as the evidence of their feith. Their faith
on that great day shall be tried by its fruits. If the works
of any man shall have been bad, if his life shall appear to
have been unchristian, that will condemn him, without
any further inquiry. But if his works, when they shall
be examined, prove good and of the right sort, he shall

196

THE FINAL JUDGMENT.

surely be justified. They will be declared as a sure evi
dence of his having believed in Jesus Christ, and of his
being clothed with his righteousness.
But by works we are to understand all voluntary exer
cises of the faculties of the soul ; as for instance, the
words and conversation of men, as well as what is done
with their hands : Matt. xii. " By thy words thou shalt be
justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."
"Nor are we to understand only outward acts, or the thoughts
outwardly expressed, but also the thoughts themselves, and
all the inward workings of the heart. Man judgeth ac
cording to the outward appearance, but God judgeth the
heart : Rev. ii. 23. " I am he that searcheth the heart and
the reins, and I will give unto every one of you according
to his works." Nor will only positive sins be brought
into judgment, but also omissions of duty, as is manifest
by Matt. xxv. 42, &c. " For I was an hungred, and ye
gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no
drink," Sec.
On that day secret and hidden wickedness will be brought
to light. All the uncleanness, injustice, and violence, of
which men have been guilty in secret, shall be manifest
both to angels and men. Then it will be made to appear,
how this and that man have indulged themselves in
wicked imaginations, in lascivious, covetous, malicious, or
impious desires and wishes; and how others have har
boured in their hearts enmity against God and his law ;
also impenitency and unbelief, notwithstanding all the
means used with them, and motives set before them, to
induce them to repent, return, and live.
Tlie good works of the saints also, which were done in
secret, shall then be made public, and even the pious and
benevolent affections and designs of their hearts ; so that
the real and secret characters of both saints and sinners
shall then be most clearly and publicly displayed.
(2.) The book of Scripture will be opened, and the
works of men will be tried by that touchstone. Their works
will be compared with the word of God. That which God
gave men for the rule of their action while in this life, shall
then be made the rule of their judgment. God hath told
us beforehand, what will be the rule of judgment. We are
told in the Scriptures upon what terms we shall be justi
fied, and upon what terms we shall be condemned. That
which God hath given us to be our rule in our lives, he
will make his own rule in judgment.
The rule of judgment will be twofold. The primary rule
of judgment will be the law. The law ever hath stood, and
ever will stand in force, as a rule of judgment, for those to
whom the law was given : Matt. v. 18. " For verily I say
unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle
shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled."
The law will so far be made the rule of judgment, that not
one person at that day shall by any means be justified or
condemned, in a way inconsistent with that which is
established by the law. As to the wicked, the law will be
so far the rule of judgment respecting them, that the sen
tence denounced against them will be the sentence of the
law. The righteous will be so far judged by the law, that
although their sentence will not be the sentence ofthe law,
yet it will by no means be such a sentence as shall be in
consistent with the law, but such as it allows : for it will
be by the righteousness of the law that they shall be
justified. It will be inquired concerning every one, both righteous
and wicked, whether the law stands against him, or whether
he hath a fulfilment of the law to show. As to the righteous,
they will have fulfilment to show ; they will have it to
plead, that the judge himself hath fulfilled the law for
them ; that he hath both satisfied for their sins, and ful
filled the righteousness of the law for them : Rom. x. 4.
" Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every
one that believeth." But as to the wicked, when it shall
be found, by the book of God's remembrance, that they
have broken the law, and have no fulfilment of it to plead,
the sentence ofthe law shall be pronounced upon them.
A secondary rule of judgment will be the gospel, or the
covenant of grace, wherein it is said, " He that believeth
shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned :''
Rom. ii. 16. " In the day when God shall judge the
secrets of men by Jesus Christ according to my gospel."

By the gospel, or covenant of grace, eternal blessedness
will be adjudged to believers. When it shall be found that
the law hinders not, and that tlie curse and condemnation
of the law stands not against them, the reward of eternal
life shall be given them, according to the glorious gospei
of Jesus Christ.
5. The sentence will be pronounced. Christ will say to
the wicked on the left hand, " Depart, ye cursed, into
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels."
How dreadful will these words ofthe judge be to the poor,
miserable, despairing wretches on the left hand ! How
amazing will every syllable of them be ! How will they
pierce them to the soul ! These words show the greatest
wrath and abhorrence. Christ will bid them depart ; he
will send them away from his presence, will remove them
for ever far out of his sight, into an everlasting separation
from God, as being most loathsome, and unfit to dwell in
his presence, and enjoy communion with him.
Christ will call them cursed; Depart, ye cursed, to
whom everlasting wrath and ruin belong; who are by
your own wickedness prepared for nothing else, but to be
firebrands of hell ; who are the fit objects and vessels of
the vengeance and fury of the Almighty. Into fire : he
will not send them away merely into a loathsome prison,
the receptacle of the filth and rubbish of the universe ; but
into a furnace of fire ; that must be their dwelling-place,
there they must be tormented with the most racking pain
and anguish. It is everlasting file ; there is eternity in the
sentence, which infinitely aggravates the doom, and will
make every word of it immensely more dreadful, sinking,
and amazing to the souls that receive it. Prepared for the
devil and his angels : this sets forth the greatness and in
tense-ess of the torments, as the preceding part of the sen
tence does the duration. It shows the dreadfulness of that
fire to which they shall be condemned, that it is the same
that is prepared for the devils, those foul spirits and great
enemies of God. Their condition will be the same as that
ofthe devils, in many respects ; particularly as they must
burn in the fire for ever.
This sentence will doubtless be pronounced in such an
awful manner as shall be a terrible manifestation of the
wrath of the judge. There will be divine, holy, and
almighty wrath manifested in the countenance and voice
of the judge ; and we know not what other manifestations
of anger will accompany the sentence. Perhaps it will be
accompanied with thunders and lightnings, fer more dread
ful than were on mount Sinai at the giving of the law.
Correspondent to these exhibitions of divine wrath, will
be the appearances of terror and most horrible amazement
in the condemned. How will all their faces look pale !
how will death sit upon their countenances, when those
words shall be heard 1 What dolorous cries, shrieks, and
groans ! What trembling, and wringing of hands, and
gnashing of teeth, will there then be !
But with the most benign aspect, in the most endearing
manner, and with the sweetest expressions of love, will
Christ invite his saints on his right hand to glory ; saying,
" Come, ye blessed of my Fadier, inherit the kingdom
prepared for you from the foundation of the world." He
will not bid them to go from him, but to come with him ;
to go where he goes ; to dwell where he dwells ; to enjoy
him, and to partake with him. He will call them blessed,
blessed of his Father, blessed by him whose blessing is
infinitely the most desirable, namely, God. Inherit the
kingdom : they are not only invited to go with Christ, and
to dwell with him, but to inherit a kingdom with him ; to
sit down with him on his throne, and to receive the honour
and happiness of a heavenly kingdom. " Prepared for
you from the foundation of the world :" this denotes the
sovereign and eternal love of God, as the source of their
blessedness. He puts them in mind, that God was pleased
to set his love upon them, long before they had a being,
even from eternity ; that therefore God made heaven on
purpose for them, and fitted it for their delight and hap
piness. 6. Immediately after this, the sentence will be executed,
as we are informed, Matt. xxv. 46. " These shall go away
into everlasting punishment ; but the righteous into life
eternal." When the words of the sentence shall have once
proceeded out of the mouth of the judge, then that vast

Sect. V.

ALL WILL BE DONE IN RIGHTEOUSNESS.

197

and innumerable throng of ungodly men shall go away,
shall be driven away, shall be necessitated to go away
with devils, and shall with dismal cries and shrieks be
cast into the great furnace of fire prepared for the punish
ment of devils, the perpetual thunders and lightnings of
the wrath of God following them. Into this furnace they
must in both soul and body enter, never more to come out.
Here they must spend eternal ages in wrestling with the
most excruciating torments, and in crying out in the midst
of the most dreadful flames, and under the most insup
portable wrath.
On the other hand,' the righteous shall ascend to heaven
with their glorified bodies, in company with Christ, his
angels, and all that host which descended with him ;
they shall ascend in the most joyful and triumphant man
ner, and shall enter with Christ into that glorious and
blessed world, which had for the time been empty of its
creature inhabitants. Christ having given his church that
perfect beauty, and crowned it with that glory, honour,
and happiness, which were stipulated in the covenant of re
demption before the world was, and which he died to
procure for them ; and having made it a truly glorious church,
every way complete, will present it before the Father,
without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing. Thus shall
the saints be instated in everlasting glory, to dwell there
with Christ, who shall feed them, and lead them to living
fountains of water, to the full enjoyment of God, and to
an eternity of the most holy, glorious, and joyful employ
ments. SECT. V.
All will be done in righteousness.
Christ will give to every man his due, according to a
most righteous rule. Those who shall be condemned,
will be most justly condemned ; will be condemned to
that punishment which they shall most justly deserve ; and
the justice of God in condemning them will be made most
evident. Now the justice of God in punishing wicked
men, and especially in the degree of their punishment, is
often blasphemously called in question. But it will be
made clear and apparent to all ; their own consciences
will tell them that the sentence is just, and all cavils will
be put to silence.
So those that shall be justified, shall be most justly ad
judged to eternal life. Although they also were great sin
ners, and deserved eternal death ; yet it will not be against
justice or the law, to justify them, they will be in Christ.
But the acquitting of them will be but giving the reward
merited by Christ's righteousness, Rom. iii. 26. " That
God may be just, and the justifier of him that believeth in
Jesus." Christ will judge the world in righteousness, particularly
as he will give to every one a due proportion either of re
ward or punishment, according to the various characters
of those who shall be judged. The punishments shall be
duly proportioned to the number and aggravations of the
sins of the wicked ; and the rewards of the righteous shall
be duly proportioned to the number of their holy acts and
affections, and also to the degree of virtue implied in
them. — I would observe further,
1. That Christ cannot fail of being just in judging,
through mistake. He cannot take some to be sincere and
godly, who are not so, nor others to be hypocrites, who
are really sincere. His eyes are as a flame of fire, and he
searched- the hearts and trieth the reins of the children of
men. He can never err in determining what is justice in
particular cases, as human judges often do. Nor can he
be blinded by prejudices, as human judges are very liable
to be. Deut. x. 17. " He regardeth not persons, nor
taketh reward." It is impossible he should be deceived
by the excuse, and false colours, and pleas ofthe wicked,
as human judges very commonly are- It is equally im
possible that he should err, in assigning to every one his
proper proportion of reward or punishment, according to
his wickedness or good works. His knowledge being in
finite, will effectually guard him against all these, and
other such errors.
2. He cannot fail of judging righteously through an
unrighteous disposition ; for he is infinitely just and holy

in his nature. Deut. xxxii. 4. " He is the rock, his work
is perfect ; for all his ways are judgment : a God of truth,
and without iniquity, just and right is he." It is not pos
sible that an infinitely powerful, self-sufficient being
should be under any temptation to injustice. Nor is it
possible that an infinitely wise being, who knoweth all
things, should not choose justice. For he who perfectly
knows all things, perfectly knows how much more amiable
justice is than injustice ; and therefore must choose it.

SECT. VI.
Those things which will immediately follow the day qf
judgment.
1. After the sentence shall have been pronounced, and
the saints shall have ascended with Christ into glory, this
world will be dissolved by fire : the conflagration will im
mediately succeed the judgment. When an end shall
have been put to the present state of mankind, this world,
which was the place of their habitation during that state,
will be destroyed, there being no further use for it. This
earth which had been the stage upon which so many
scenes had been acted, upon which there had been so many
great and famous kingdoms and large cities ; where there
had been so many wars, so much trade and business car
ried on for so many ages ; shall then be destroyed. These
continents, these islands, these seas and rivers, these
mountains and valleys, shall be seen no more at all : all
shall be destroyed by devouring flames. This we are
plainly taught in the word of God. 2 Pet. iii. 7. " But
the heavens and the earth which are now, by the same
word are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day
of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men." ver. 10.
" But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the
night ; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a
great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat,
the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burnt
up." ver. 12. "Looking for and hasting unto the coming
of the day of God, wherein the heavens being on fire shall
be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent
heat." 2. Both the misery of the wicked and the happiness of
the saints will be increased, beyond what shall be before
the judgment. The misery of the wicked will be increased,
as they will be tormented not only in their souls, but also
in their bodies, which will be prepared both to receive and
administer torment to their souls. There will doubtless
then be the like connexion between soul and body, as
there is now ; and therefore the pains and torments of the
one will affect the other. And why may we not suppose
that their torments will be increased as well as those of
the devils ? Concerning them we are informed, (Jam. ii.
19.) that they believe there is one God, and tremble in the
belief; expecting no doubt that he will inflict upon them,
in due time, more severe torments than even those which
they now suffer. We are also informed that they are
bound " in chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judg
ment ; and unto the judgment of the great day ;" (2 Pet.
ii. 4. and Jude 6.) which implies that their full punish
ment is not yet executed upon them, but that they are now
reserved as prisoners in hell, to receive their just recom
pence on the day of judgment. Hence it was that they
thought Christ was come to torment them before the time.
Matt. viii. 29. Thus the punishment neither of wicked
men nor devils will be complete before the final judgment.
No more will the happiness of the saints be complete
before that time. Therefore we are in the New Testament
so often encouraged with promises of the resurrection of
the dead, and of the day when Christ shall come the
second time. These things are spoken of as the great ob
jects of the expectation and hope of Christians. A state
of separation of soul and body is to men an unnatural
state. Therefore when the bodies of the saints shall, be
raised from the dead, and their souls shall be again united
to them, as their state will be more natural, so doubtless
it will be more happy. Their bodies will be glorious
bodies, and prepared to administer as much to their hap
piness, as the bodies of the wicked will be to administer
to their misery.

198

THE FINAL JUDGMENT.

We may with good reason suppose the accession of hap
piness to the souls of the saints will be great, since the
occasion is represented as the marriage of the church, and
the Lamb ; Rev. xix. 7. " The marriage of the Lamb is
come, and his wife hath made herself ready." Their joy
will then be increased, because they will have new argu
ments of joy. The body of Christ will then be perfect,
the church will be complete ; all the parts of it will have
come into existence, which will not be the case before the
end of the world ; no parts of it will be under sin or af
fliction : all the members of it will be in a perfect state ;
and they shall all be together by themselves, none being
mixed with ungodly men. Then the church will be as a
bride adorned for her husband, and therefore she will ex
ceedingly rejoice.
Then also the Mediator will have fully accomplished his
work. He will then have destroyed, and will triumph
over, all his enemies. Then Christ will have fully obtain
ed his reward, and fully accomplished the design which
was in his heart from all eternity. For these reasons
Christ himself will greatly rejoice, and his members must
needs proportionably rejoice with him. Then God will
have obtained the end of all the great works which he hath
been doing from the beginning of the world. All the de
signs of God will be unfolded in their events ; then his
marvellous contrivance in his hidden, intricate, and inex
plicable works will appear, the ends being obtained. Then
the works of God being perfected, the divine glory will
more abundantly appear. These things will cause a great
accession of happiness to the saints, who shall behold them.
Then God will have fully glorified himself, his Son, and
his elect ; then he will see that all is very good, and will
entirely rejoice in his own works. At the same time the
saints also, viewing the works of God brought thus to per
fection, will rejoice in the view, and receive from it a large
accession of happiness.
Then God will make more abundant manifestations of
his glory, and of the glory of his Son ; then he will more
plentifully pour out his Spirit, and make answerable addi
tions to the glory of the saints, and by means of all these
will so increase the happiness of the saints, as shall be
suitable to the commencement of the ultimate and most
perfect state of things, and to such a joyful occasion, the
completion of all things. In this glory and happiness will
the saints remain for ever and ever.

SECT. VII.
The uses to which this doctrine is applicable.
I. The first use proper to be made of this doctrine is of
instruction. Hence many of the mysteries of Divine Pro
vidence may be unfolded. There are many things in the
dealings of God towards the children of men, which ap
pear very mysterious, if we view them without having an
eye to this last judgment, which yet, if we consider this
judgment, have no difficulty in them. As,
1. That God suffers the wicked to live and prosper in
the world. The infinitely holy and wise Creator and
Governor of the world must necessarily hate wickedness ;
yet we see many wicked men spreading themselves as a
green bay-tree; they live with impunity; things seem to
go well with them, and the world smiles upon them.
Many who have not been fit to live, who have held God
and religion in the greatest contempt, who have been open
enemies to all that is good, who by their wickedness have
been the pests of mankind; many cruel tyrants, whose
barbarities have been such as would even fill one with
horror to hear or read of them ; yet have lived in great
wealth and outward glory, have reigned over great and
mighty kingdoms and empires, and have been honoured as
a sort of earthly gods.
Now, it is very mysterious, that the holy and righteous
Governor of the world, whose eye beholds all the children
of men, should suffer it so to be, unless we look forward
to the day of judgment ; and then the mystery is un
ravelled. For although God for the present keeps silence,
and seems to let them alone ; yet then he will give suit
able manifestations of his displeasure against their wick
edness ; they shall then receive condign punishment. The

saints under the Old Testament were much stumbled at
these dispensations of Providence, as you may see in Job,
ch. xxi. and Psal. lxxiii. and Jer. ch. xii. The difficulty to
them was so great, because then a future state and a day of
judgment were not revealed with that clearness with which
they are now.
2. God sometimes suffers some ofthe best of men to be
in great affliction, poverty, and persecution. The wicked
rule, while they are subject ; the wicked are the head, and
they are the tail ; the wicked domineer, while they serve,
and are oppressed, yea are trampled under their feet, as the
mire of the streets. These things are very common, yet
they seem to imply great confusion. When the wicked are
exalted to power and authority, and the godly are oppress
ed by them, things are quite out of joint : Prov. xx. 26.
" A righteous man felling down before the wicked, is as a
troubled fountain, and a corrupt spring." Sometimes one
wicked man makes many hundreds, yea thousands, of
precious saints a sacrifice to his lust and cruelty, or to his
enmity against virtue and the truth, and puts them to death
for no other reason but that for which they are especially to
be esteemed and commended.
Now, if we look no further than the present state, these
things appear strange and unaccountable. But we ought
not to confine our views within such narrow limits. When
God shall have put an end to the present state, these
things shall all be brought to rights. Though God suffers
things to be so for the present, yet they shall not proceed in
this course always ; comparatively speaking, the present
state of things is but for a moment. When all snail be
settled and fixed by a divine judgment, the righteous shall
be exalted, honoured, and rewarded, and the wicked shall
be depressed and put under their feet. However the
wicked now prevail against the righteous, yet the righteous
shall at last have the ascendant, shall come off conquerors,
and shall see the just vengeance of God executed upon
those who now hate and persecute them.
3. It is another mystery of providence, that God suffers
so much public injustice to take place in the world. There
are not only private wrongs, which in this state pass un
settled, but many public wrongs, wrongs done by men
acting in a public character, and wrongs which affect na
tions, kingdoms, and other public bodies of men. Many
suffer by men in public offices, from whom there is no re
fuge, from whose decisions there is no appeal. Now it
seems a mystery that these things are tolerated, when he
that is rightfully the Supreme Judge and Governor of the
world is perfectly just ; but at the final judgment all these
wrongs shall be adjusted, as well as those of a more pri
vate nature.
II. Our second use of this subject shall be to apply it to
the awakening of sinners. You that have not the fear of
God before your eyes, that are not afraid to sin against
him, consider seriously what you have heard concerning
the day of judgment. Although these things be now
future and unseen, yet they are real and certain. If you
now be left to yourselves, if God keep silence, and judg
ment be not speedily executed, it is not because God is
regardless how you live, and how you behave yourselves.
Now indeed God is invisible to you, and his wrath is in
visible ; but at the day of judgment, you yourselves shall
see him with your bodily eyes : you shall not then be able
to keep out of his sight,"or to avoid seeing him : Rev. i. 7.
"Behold he cometh with clouds ; and every eye shall see
him, and they also which pierced him : and all kindreds of
the earth shail wail because of him." You shall see him
coming in the clouds of heaven ; your ears shall hear the
last trumpet, that dreadful sound, the voice of the arch
angel ; your eyes shall see your judge sitting on the throne,
they shall see those manifestations of wrath which there
will be in his countenance ; your ears shall hear him pro
nounce the sentence.
Seriously consider, if you live in the ways of sin, and
appear at that day with the guilt of it upon you, how you
will be able to endure the sight or the hearing of these
things, and whether horror and amazement will not be like
ly to seize you, when you shall see the judge descending,
and hear the trump of God. What account will you be
able to give, when it shall be inquired of you, why you led
such a sinful, wicked life ? What will vou be able to say

Sect. VII.

THE USES OF THIS DOCTRINE.

199

for yourselves, when it shall be asked, why you neglect
ed such and such particular duties, as the duty of secret
prayer, for instance ? or why you have habitually practised
such and such particular sins or lusts ? , Although you be
so careless of your conduct and manner of life, make so
light of sin, and proceed in it so freely, with little or no
dread or remorse ; yet you must give an account of every
sin that you commit, of every idle word that you speak, and
of every sinful thought of your hearts. Every time you
deviate from the rules of justice, of temperance, or of
- charity ; every time you indulge any lust, whether secretly
or openly, you must give an account of it : it will never be
forgotten, it stands written in that book which will be
opened on that day.
Consider the rule you will be judged by. It is the per
fect rule of the divine law, which is exceeding strict, and
exceeding broad. And how will you ever be able to an
swer the demands of this law ?  Consider also,
1. That the judge will be your supreme judge. You
will have no opportunity to appeal from his decision.
This is often the case in this world ; when we are dissa
tisfied with the decisions of a judge, we often may ap
peal to a higher, a more knowing, or a more just judi
catory. But no such appeal can be made from our Divine
Judge ; no such indulgence will be allowed : or if it were
allowed, there is no superior judge to whom the appeal
should be made. By his decision, therefore, you must
abide. 2. The judge will be omnipotent. Were he a mere man,
like yourselves, however he might judge and determine,
you might resist, and by the help of others, if not by your
own strength, prevent or elude the execution of the judg
ment. But the judge being omnipotent, this is utterly
impossible. In vain is all resistance, either by yourselves,
or by whatever help you can obtain : "Though hand join
in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished," Prov. xi.
21. As well might you " set the briers and thorns in bat
tle against God," Isa. xxvii. 4.
3. The judge will be inexorable. Human judges may
be prevailed upon to reverse their sentence, or at least to
remit something of its severity. But in vain will be all
your entreaties, all your cries and tears to this effect, with
the great Judge of the world. Now indeed he inclines
his ear, and is ready to hear the prayers, cries, and en
treaties of all mankind ; but then' the day of grace will be
past, and the door of mercy be shut : then although ye
spread forth your hands, yet the judge will hide his eyes
from you ; yea, though ye make many prayers, he will
not hear : Isa. i. 15. Then the judge will deal in fury :
his eye shall not spare, neither will he have pity : and
though ye cry in his ears with a loud voice, yet will he
not hear you : Ezek. viii. 18. And you will find no
place of repentance in God, though you seek it carefully
with tears.
4. The judge at that day will not mix mercy with jus
tice. The time for mercy to be shown to sinners will then
be past. Christ will then appear in another character than
that of the merciful Saviour. Having laid aside the invit
ing attributes of grace and mercy, he will clothe himself
with justice and vengeance. He will not only, in general,
exact of sinners the demands of the law, but he will exact
the whole, without any abatement ; he will exact the very
uttermost farthing, Matt. v. 26. Then Christ will come
to fulfil that in Rev. xiv. 10. "The same shall drink of
the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out with
out mixture, into the cup of his indignation." The pun
ishment threatened to ungodly men is without any pity :
See Ezek. v. 11. " Neither shall mine eye spare; neither
will I have any pity." Here all judgments have a mix
ture of mercy; but the wrath of God will be poured out
upon the wicked without mixture, and vengeance will
have its full weight.
III. I shall apply myself, thirdly, to several different
characters of men.
1. To those who live in secret wickedness. Let such
consider, that for all these things God will bring them into
judgment. Secrecy is your temptation. Promising your
selves this, you practise many things, you indulge many
lusts, under the covert of darkness, and in secret corners,
which you would be ashamed to do in the light of the

sun, and before the world. But this temptation is entirely
groundless. All your secret abominations are even now
perfectly known to God, and will also hereafter be made
known both to angels and men : Luke xii. 2, 3. " For
there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed ; neither
hid, that shall not be known. Therefore whatsoever ye
have spoken in darkness, shall be heard in the light : and
that which ye have spoken in the ear in closets, shall be
proclaimed upon the house-tops."
Before human judges are brought only those things
which are known ; but before this judge shall be brought
the most " hidden things of darkness, and even the coun
sels of the heart," 1 Cor. iv. 5. All your secret unclean
ness, all your secret fraud and injustice, all your lascivious
desires, wishes, and designs, all your inward covetousness,
which is idolatry, all your malicious, envious, and re
vengeful thoughts and purposes, whether brought forth
into practice or not, shall then be made manifest, and you
shall be judged according to them. Of these things, how
ever secret, ihere will be need of no other evidence than
the testimony of God and of your own consciences.
2. To such as are not just and upright in their dealings
with their fellow-men. Consider, that all your dealings
with men must be tried, must be brought forth into judg
ment, and there compared with the rules of the word of
God. All your actions must be judged according to those
things which are found written in the book of the word of
God. If your ways of dealing with men shall not agree
with those rules of righteousness, they will be condemned .
Now, the word of God directs us to practise entire jus
tice : " That which is altogether just shalt thou follow,"
Deut. xvi. 20. and to do to others as we would they should
do to us. But how many are there, whose dealings with
their fellow-men, if strictly tried by these rules, would not
stand the test 1
God hath, in his word, forbidden all deceit and fraud in
our dealings one witb another, Lev. xi. 13. He hath for
bidden us to oppress one another, Lev. xxv. 14. But how
frequent are practices contrary to those rules, and which
will not bear to be tried by them ! How common are
fraud and trickishness in trade ! How will men endeavour
to lead on those with whom they trade in the dark,
that so they may make their advantage ! Yea, lying in
trading is too common a thing among us. How common
are such things as that mentioned, Prov. xx. 14. " It is
nought, it is nought, saith the buyer ; but when he is gone
his way, then he boasteth."
Many men will take the advantage of another's ignorance
to advance their own gain, to his wrong ; yea, they seem
not to scruple such practices. Beside downright lying,
men have many ways of blinding and deceiving one
another in trade, which are by no means right in the sight
of God, and will appear to be very unjust, when they
shall be tried by the rule of God's word at the day of
judgment. And how common a thing is oppression or
extortion, in taking any advantage that men can by any
means obtain, to get the utmost possible of their neigh
bour for what they have to dispose of, and their neighbour
needs !
Let such consider, that there is a God in heaven, who
beholds them, and sees how they conduct themselves in
their daily traffic with one another ; and that he will try
their works another day. Justice shall assuredly take
place at last. The righteous Governor of the world will
not suffer injustice without control ; he will control and
rectify it, by returning the injury upon the head of the in-
jurer : Matt. vii. 2. " With what measure ye mete, it shall
be measured to you again."
3. To those who plead for the lawfulness of practices
generally condemned by God's people. You who do this,
consider that your practices must be tried at the day of
judgment. Consider, whether or no they are likely to be
approved by the most holy Judge at that day : Prov. v.
21. "The ways of man are before the eyes of the Lord;
and he pondereth all his goings." However, by your car
nal reasonings, you may deceive your own hearts, yet you
will not be able to deceive the judge, he will not hearken
to your excuses, but will try your ways by the rule ; he
will know whether they be straight or crooked.
When you plead for these and those liberties which you

200

THE FINAL JUDGMENT.

I

take, let it be considered, whether they be likely to be al
lowed of by the judge at the last great day. Will they
bear to be fried by his eyes, which are purer than to be
hold evil, and cannot look on iniquity 7
4. To those who are wont to excuse their wickedness.
Will the excuses which you make for yourselves be ac
cepted at the day of judgment ? If you excuse yourselves
to your own consciences, by saying, that you were under
such and such temptations which you could not with
stand; that corrupt nature prevailed, and you could not
overcome it ; that it would have been so and so to your
damage, if you had done otherwise ; that if you had done
such a duty, you would have brought yourselves into
difficulty, would have incurred the displeasure of such and
such friends, or would have been despised and laughed
at ; or if you say, you did no more than it was the com
mon custom to do, no more than many godly men have
done, no more than certain persons of good reputation
now practise ; that if you had done otherwise, you would
have been singular ; if these be your excuses for the sins
which you commit, or for the duties which you neglect,
let me ask you, will they appear sufficient when they shall
be examined at the day of judgment?
5. To those who live in impenitence and unbelief.
There are some persons who live in no open vice, and
fierhaps conscientiously avoid secret immorality, who yet
ive in impenitence and unbelief. They are indeed called
upon to repent and believe the gospel, to forsake their evil
ways and thoughts, and to return to God, that he may have
mercy on them; to come unto Christ, labouring, and
heavy-laden with sin, that they may obtain rest of him ;
and are assured, that if they believe, they shall be saved ;
and that if they believe not, they shall be damned ; and all
the most powerful motives are set before them, to induce
them to comply with these exhortations, especially those
drawn from the eternal world ; yet they persist in sin, they
remain impenitent and unhumbled ; they will not come
unto Christ, that they may have life.
Now such men shall be brought into judgment for their
conduct, as well as more gross sinners. Nor will they be
any more able to stand in the judgment than the other.
They resist the most powerful means of grace ; go on in
sin against the clear light of the gospel ; refuse to hearken
to the kindest calls and invitations ; reject the most amiable
Saviour, the judge himself; and despise the free offers of
eternal life, glory, and felicity. And how will they be able
to answer for these things at the tribunal of Christ ?
IV. If there be a day of judgment appointed, then let
all be very strict in trying their own sincerity. God on that
day will discover the secrets of all hearts. The judgment
of that day will be like the fire, which burns up whatso
ever is not true gold ; wood, hay, stubble, and dross, shall
be all consumed by the scorching fire of that day. The
judge will be like a refiner's fire, and fuller's soap, which
will cleanse away all filthiness, however it may be coloured
over : Mai. iii. 2. " Who may abide the day of his coming ?
and who shall stand when he appearcth ? for he is like a
refiner's fire, and like fuller's soap:" and chap. iv. 1.
" For behold the day cometh that shall burn as an oven,
and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be
stubble, and the day that cometh shall burn them up, saith
the Lord of hosts."
There are multitudes of men that wear the guise of
saints, appear like saints, and their state, both in their own
eyes and in the eyes of their neighbours, is good. They
have sheep's clothing. But no disguise can hide them
from the eyes of the judge of the world. His eyes are as
a flame of fire : they search the hearts and try the reins of
the children of men. He will see whether they be sound
at heart ; he will see from what principles they have acted.
A fair show will in no degree deceive him, as it doth men
in the present state. It will signify nothing to say, " Lord,
we have eaten and drunk in thy presence; and in thy
name have we cast out devils, and in thy name have done
many wonderful works." It will signify nothing to pre
tend to a great deal of comfort and joy, "and to the experi
ence of great religious affections, and to your having done
many things in religion and morality, unless you have
some greater evidences of sincerity.
Wherefore let every one take heed that he be not de

ceived concerning himself; and that he depend not on
that which will not bear examination at the day of judg
ment. Be not contented with this, that you have the
judgment of men, the judgment of godly men, or that of
ministers, in your favour. Consider that they are not to
be your judges at last. Take occasion frequently to com
pare your hearts with the word of God ; that is the rule by
which you are to be finally tried and judged. And try
yourselves by your works, by which also you must be
tried at last. Inquire whether you lead holy christian
lives, whether you perform universal and unconditional
obedience to all God's commands, and whether you do it
from a truly gracious respect to God.
Also frequently beg of God, the judge, that he would
search you, try you now, and discover you to yourselves,
that you may see if you be insincere in religion ; and that
he would lead you in the way everlasting. Beg of God,
that if you be not upon a good foundation, he would un
settle you, and fix you upon the sure foundation. The
example of the psalmist in this is worthy of imitation :
Psal. xxvi. 1, 2. " Judge me, O Lord, examine me, and
prove me; try my reins and mine heart;" and Psal.
exxxix. 23, 24. " Search me, O God, and know my
heart : try me, and know my thoughts. And see if there
be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way ever
lasting." God will search us hereafter, and discover what
we are, both to ourselves and to all the world ; let us
pray that he would search us, and discover our hearts to
us now. We have need of divine help in this matter ; for
the heart is deceitful above all things.
V. If God hath appointed a day to judge the world, let
us judge and condemn ourselves for our sins. This we
must do, if we would not be judged and condemned for
them on that day. If we would escape condemnation,
we must see that we justly may be condemned ; we must
be so sensible of our vileness and guilt, as to see that
we deserve all that condemnation and punishment which
are threatened ; and that we are in the hands of God,
who is the sovereign . disposer of us, and will do with
us as seemeth to himself good. Let us therefore often
reflect on our sins, confess them before God, condemn and
abhor ourselves, be truly humbled, and repent in dust
and ashes.
VI. If these things be so, let us by no means be for
ward to judge odiers. Some are forward to judge others,
to judge their hearts both in general and upon particular
occasions, to determine as to the principles, motives, and
ends of their actions. But this is to assume the province
of God, and to set up ourselves as lords and judges. Rom.
xiv. 4. " Who art thou, that thou judgest another man's
servant?" Jam. iv. 11. " Speak not evil one of another,
brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and
judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth
the law." To be thus disposed to judge and act cen
soriously towards others, is the way to be judged and con
demned ourselves. Matt. vii. 1, 2. " Judge not, that ye
be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall
be judged : and with what measure ye mete, it shall be
measured to you again."
VII. This doctrine affords matter of great consolation to
the godly. This day of judgment, which is so terrible to
ungodly men, affords no ground of terror to you, but
abundant ground of joy and satisfaction. For though you
now meet with more affliction and trouble than most
wicked men, yet on that day you shall be delivered from
all afflictions, and from all trouble. If you be unjustly
treated by wicked men, and abused by them, what a com
fort is it to the injured, that they may appeal to God, who
judgeth righteously. The psalmist used often to comfort
himself with this.
Upon these accounts the saints have reason to love the
appearing of Jesus Christ. 2 Tim. iv. 8. "Henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the
Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day : and
not to me only, but to all those that love his appearing."
This is to the saints a blessed hope. Tit. ii. 13. " Look
ing for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing ofthe
great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ. This day may
well be the object of their eager desire, and when they hear
of Christ's coming to judgment, they may well say,

Sect. VII.

THE USES OF THIS DOCTRINE.

201

" Even so come, Lord Jesus," Rev. xxii. 20. It will be
the most glorious day that ever the saints saw ; it will be
so both to those who shall die, and whose souls shall go to
heaven, and to those who shall then be found alive on

earth : it will be the wedding-day of the church. Surely
then in the consideration of me approach of this day, there
is ground of great consolation to the saints.

SINNERS IN ZION TENDERLY WARNED :

THE FEARFULNESS WHICH WILL HEREAFTER SURPRISE SINNERS IN ZION,
REPRESENTED AND IMPROVED.

Isaiah xxxiii. 14.
The sinners in Zion are afraid ; fearfulness hath surprised
the hypocrites. Who among us shall dwell with the de
vouring fire ? who among us shall dwell with everlasting
burnings ?* SECT. I.
Showing who are sinners in Zion.
There are two kinds of persons among God's profess
ing people ; the one, those who are truly godly, spoken of
in the verse following the text ; " He that walketh right
eously, and speaketh uprightly," &c. The other kind con
sists of sinners in Zion, or hypocrites. It is to be observ
ed, that the prophet in this chapter speaks interchangeably,
first to the one, and then to the other of these characters
of men ; awfully threatening and denouncing the wrath of
God against the one, and comforting the other with gracious
promises. Thus you may observe, in the 5th and 6th
verses, there are comfortable promises to the godly ; then
in the eight following verses, awful judgments are threat
ened against the sinners in Zion. Again, in the two next
verses are blessed promises to the sincerely godly, and in
the former part of ver. 17. And then in the latter part of
ver. 17. and in ver. 18, and 19. are terrible threatenings to
sinners in Zion : then in the verses that follow are gracious
promises to the godly.
Our text is part of what is said in this chapter to sinners
in Zion. In ver. 10. it is said, " Now will I rise, saith the
Lord ; now will I be exalted; now will I lift up myself,"
i. e. Now will I arise to execute wrath upon the ungodly ;
I will not let them alone any longer. They shall see that
I am not asleep, and that I am not regardless of mine own
honour. " Now will I be exalted." Though they have
cast contempt upon me, yet I will vindicate the honour of
my own majesty : I will exalt myself, and show my great
ness, and my awful majesty in their destruction. " Now
will I lift up myself;" now I will no longer have mine
honour trampled in the dust by them : but my glory shall
be manifested in their misery.
In ver. 11. the prophet proceeds, " Ye shall conceive
chaff, ye shall bring forth stubble :" .. .. Ye shall pursue
happiness in ways of wickedness, but you shall not obtain
it; you are as ground which brings forth no fruit, as if only
chaff were sowed in it ; it brings forth nothing but stubble,
which is fit for nothing but to be burned.
It seems to have been the manner in that land where the
corn grew verv rank, when they had reaped the wheat, and
gathered it off from the ground, to set fire to the stubble ;
which is alluded to here ; and therefore it is added, " Your
breath, as fire, shall devour you :" i. e. Your own wicked
speeches, your wickedness that you commit with your
breath, or with your tongues, shall set fire to the stubble and
devour it.
Then it follows in ver. 12. "And the people shall be as
the burnings of lime." As they are wont to burn lime in
* The substance of two posthumous discourses, dated Dec. 1740.

a great and exceeding fierce fire, till stones, and bones, and
other things are burnt to lime ; so shall the wicked be
burnt in the fire of God's wrath. " As thorns cut up shall
they be burnt in the fire :" as briers and thorns are the en
cumbrance and curse of the ground where they grow, and
are wont to be burnt ; so shall it be with the wicked that
are among God's people, and grow in God's field. Heb.
vi. 7, 8. " For the earth which drinketh in the rain that
cometh oft upon it, and bringeth forth herbs meet for them
by whom it is dressed, receiveth blessing from God : but
that which beareth thorns and briers, is rejected, and is nigh
unto cursing ; whose end is to be burned."
Then it follows in ver. 13. " Hear ye that are far off,
what I have done ; and ye that are near, acknowledge my
might." This implies that God will by the destruction of
ungodly men, manifest his glory very publicly, even in the
sight of the whole world, both in the sight of those that
are near, and of those that are far off. " Acknowledge my
might." Which implies that God will execute wrath upon
ungodly men, in such a manner as extraordinarily to show
forth his great and mighty power. The destruction and
misery of the wicked will be so dreadful, that it will be a
manifestation of the omnipotent power of God, that he
can execute such misery ; agreeably to Rom. ix. 22. " What
if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his power
known, endured with much long-suffering the vessels of
wrath fitted to destruction."
Next follow these words : " The sinners in Zion are
afraid ; fearfulness hath surprised the hypocrites. Who
among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? who
among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings ?" The
sense is, That the time will come, when fearfulness will
surprise the sinners in Zion ; because they will know,
that they are about to be cast into a devouring fire, which
they must suffer for ever and ever, and which none can
endure. It may be inquired, who are the sinners in Zion ?  1
answer, That they are those who are in a natural condition
among the visible people of God. Zion, or the city of
David of old, was a type of the church ; and the church
of God in Scripture is perhaps more frequently called by
the name of Zion than by any other name. And com
monly by Zion is meant the true church of Christ, or the
invisible church of true saints. But sometimes by this
name is meant the visible church, consisting of those who
are outwardly, by profession and external privileges, the
people of God. This is intended by Zion in this text.
The greater part of the world are sinners : Christ's
flock is, and ever hath been, but a little flock. And the
sinners of the world are of two sorts : those who are visibly
of Satan's kingdom, who are without the pale of the visible
church ; and those who do not profess the true religion,
nor attend the external ordinances of it. Beside these
there are the sinners in Zion. Both are the objects of the
displeasure and wrath of God ; but his wrath is more
especially manifested in Scripture against the latter. Sin
ners in Zion will have by far the lowest place in hell.

202

SINNERS IN ZION WARNED.

They are exalted nearest to heaven in this world, and they
will be lowest in hell in another. The same is meant
by hypocrites. . Sinners in Zion are all hypocrites ; for they
make a profession of the true religion ; they attend God's
ordinances, and make a show of being the worshippers of
God ; but all is hypocrisy. SECT. II.
How fearfulness will hereafter surprise sinners in Zion.
1 . They will hereafter be afraid. Now many of them
seem to have little or no fear." They are quiet and secure.
Nothing will awaken them : the most awful threatenings
and the loudest warnings do not much move them. They
are not so much moved with them, but they can eat, and
drink, and sleep, and go about their worldly concerns with
out much disturbance. But the time will come, when the
hardest and most stupid wretches will be awakened.
Though now preaching will not awaken them, and the
death of others will not make them afraid ; though seeing
others awakened and converted will not much affect them ;
though they can stand all that is to be heard and seen in a
time of general out-pouring of the Spirit of God, without
being much moved ; yet the time will come, when they
will be awakened, and fear will take hold of them. They
will be afraid of the wrath of God : however senseless
they be now, they will hereafter be sensible of the awful
greatness of God, and that it is a fearful thing to fell into
his hands.
2. They will be surprised with fear. This seems to
imply two things ; viz. the greatness of their fear, and the
suddenness of it.
(1.) The greatness of their fear. Surprise argues a high
degree of fear. Their fears will be to the degree of astonish
ment. Some of the sinners in Zion are somewhat afraid
now : they now and then have some degree of fear. They
are not indeed convinced that there is such a place as hell ;
but they are afraid there is. They are not thoroughly
awakened; neither are they quite easy. They have at
certain times inward molestations from their consciences ;
but they have no such degrees of fear, as to put them upon
any thorough endeavours to escape future wrath.
However, hereafter they will have fear enough, as much,
and a great deal more, than they will be able to stand
under. Their fear will be to the degree of horror ; they
will be horribly afraid ; and terrors wiil take hold on them
as waters. Thus we read of their fear coming as a desola
tion, and qf distress and anguish coming upon them ; Prov.
i. 27. It is also very emphatically said of the wicked,
that trouble and anguish shall prevail against him, as a
king ready to the battle. Job xv. 24.
The stoutest heart of them all will then melt with fear.
The hearts of those who are of a sturdy spirit, and perhaps
scorn to own themselves afraid of any man, and are even
ashamed to own themselves afraid of the wrath of God,
will then become as weak as water, as weak as the heart
of a little child. And the most reserved of them will not
be able to hide his fears. Their faces will turn pale ; they
will appear with amazement in their countenances ; every
joint in them will tremble ; all their bones will shake ; and
their knees will smite one against another : nor will they
be able to refrain from crying out with fear, and from rend
ing the air with the most dismal shrieks.
(2.) They will be suddenly seized with fear. The sinners
in Zion often remain secure, till they are surprised, as
with a cry at midnight. They will be, as it were, awaken
ed out of their secure sleep in a dismal fright. They will
see an unexpected calamity coming upon them ; far more
dreadful than they were aware of, and coming at an un
expected season.
With respect to the time when the wicked shall be
thus surprised with fear ;
1. It is often so on a death-bed. Many things pass in
their lifetime, which one would think might well strike
terror into their souls ; as when they see others die, who
are as young as they, and of like condition and circum
stances with themselves, whereby they may see how un
certain their lives are, and how unsafe their souls. It may
well surprise many sinners, lo consider how old they are

grown, and are yet in a Christless state; how much of
their opportunity to get an interest in Christ is irrecover
ably gone, and how little remains ; also how much greater
their disadvantages now are, than they have been. But
these things do not terrify them : as age increases, so do
the hardness and stupidity of their hearts grow upon
them. But when death comes, then the sinner is often filled
with astonishment. It may be, when he is first taken
sick, he has great hope that he shall recover ; as men are
ready to flatter themselves with hopes, that things will be
as they fein would have them. But when the distemper
comes to prevail much upon him, and he sees that he is
going into eternity ; when he sees that all the medicines of
physicians are in vain, that all the care and endeavours of
friends are to no purpose, that nothing seems to help him,
that his strength is gone, that his friends weep over him,
and look upon his case as desperate ; when he sees, by
the countenance and behaviour of the physician, that he
looks upon his case as past hope, and perhaps overhears a
whispering in the room, wherein his friends signify one to
another, that they look upon it that he is struck with
death, or wherein they tell one another, that his extreme
parts grow cold, that his countenance and manner of
breathing, and his pulse, show death, and that he begins
to be in a cold death-sweat ; and when perhaps, by and
by, some one thinks himself bound in duty and faithful
ness to let him know the worst, and therefore comes and
asks him whether or no he be sensible that he is a dying :
— then how doth fearfulness surprise the sinner in Zion !
How doth his heart melt with fear ! This is the thing
which he feared ever since he was taken sick ; but till now
he had hope that he should recover. The physician did
not speak ; or if he despaired, he spoke of such and such
medicines as being very proper ; and he hoped that they
would be effectual ; and when these foiled, he changed
his medicines, and applied something new : then the sin
ner hoped that would be effectual. Thus, although he
constantly grew worse and worse, still he hoped to recover.
At the same time he cried to God to spare him, and
made promises how he would live, if God would spare
him ; and he hoped that God would hear him. He ob
served also, that his friends, and perhaps the minister,
seemed to pray earnestly for him ; and he could not but
hope that those prayers would be answered, and he should
be restored. But now how doth his heart sink and die
within him ! how doth he look about with a frighted
countenance 1 how quick is the motion of his eye, through
inward fear ! and how quick and sudden are all his mo
tions ! what a frightful hurry doth he seem to be in 1 How
doth every thing look to him when he sees pale grim death
staring him in the face, and a vast eternity within a few
hours or minutes of him !
It may be, he still struggles for a little hope ; he is loth
to believe what is told him ; he tells his informers, that
he hopes they are more affrighted than they need be ; he
hopes that those symptoms arise from some other cause ;
and, like a poor drowning man, he catches at slender and
brittle twigs, and clinches his hands about whatever he
sees within his reach.
But as death creeps more and more on him, he sees his
twigs break, all his hopes of life fail, and he sees he must
die. O ! there is nothing but death before him ! He
hath been hoping ; but his hopes are all dashed ; he sees
this world, and all that belongs to it, are gone. Now
come the thoughts of hell into his mind with amazement.
O ! how shall he go out of the world ? He knows he
hath no interest in Christ ; his sins stare him in the face.
O the dreadful gulf of eternity 1 He had been crying to
God, perhaps since he was sick, to save him ; and he had
some hope, if it were his last sickness, that yet God would
pity him, and give him pardoning grace before he should
die. He begged and pleaded, and he hoped that God
would have pity on his poor soul. At the same time he
asked others to pray for him, and he had been looking day
after day for some light to shine into his soul. But, alas !
dow he is a dying, and his friends ask him, how death
appears to him ? whether any light appear ? whether God
have not given him some token of his favour ? and he
answers, No, with a poor, faltering, trembling voice, if

Sect. II.

HOW FEARFULNESS WILL SURPRISE SINNERS.

203

able to speak at all : or if his friends ask a signal of hope,
he can give none.
Now death comes on him more and more, and he is just
on the brink of eternity. Who can express the fear, the
misgivings, the hangings back, and the horrible fright and
amazement, of his soul ? Some who, in such circum
stances, have been able to speak, have been known to cry
out, 0 eternity ! eternity ! and some, O ! a thousand
worlds for an inch qf time ! O ! if they might but live a
little while longer ! * But it must not be ; go they must.
They feel the frame of nature dissolving, and perceive the
soul is just a going ; for sometimes the exercise of reason
seems to hold to the last.
What, in such a case, is felt in the soul, in those last
moments, when it is just breaking its bands with the body,
about to fetch its leap, on the edge of eternity, and the very
brink of hell, without any Saviour, or the least testimony
of divine mercy : I say, what is sometimes felt by Christ
less souls in these moments, none can tell ; nor is it with
in the compass of our conception.
2. The misery of the departed soul of a sinner, besides
what it now feels, consists in a great part in amazing fears
of what is yet to come. When the union of the soul and
body is actually broken, and the body has fetched its last
gasp, the soul forsakes its old habitation, and then falls
into the hands of devils, who fly upon it, and seize it more
violently than ever hungry lions flew upon their prey. And
with what horror will it fall into those cruel hands !
If we imagine to ourselves the dreadful fear with which
a lamb or kid falls into the paws of a wolf, which lays
hold of it with open mouth; or if we imagine to ourselves
the feeling of a little child, that hath been pursued by a
lion, when it is taken hold of, and sees the terrible creature
open his devouring jaws to tear it in pieces ; or the feeling
of those two and forty children, who had mocked Elisha,
when they fell into the paws of the bears that tare them in
pieces : 1 say if we could have a perfect idea of that terror
and astonishment which a little child has in such a case,
yet we should have but a faint idea of what is felt in the
departing soul of a sinner, when it falls into the hands of
those cruel devils, those roaring lions, which then seize
of it!
And when the soul is carried to hell, and there is tor
mented, suffers the wrath of the Almighty, and is over
whelmed and crushed with it, it will also be amazed with
the apprehensions of what shall yet remain. To think of
an eternity of this torment remaining, O how will it fill,
and overbear, and sink down the wretched soul ! How will
the thought of the duration of this torment without end
cause the heart to melt like wax ! How will the thought
of it sink the soul into the bottomless pit of darkness and
gloominess ! Even those proud and sturdy spirits, the
devils, tremble at the thoughts of that greater torment
which they are to suffer at the day of judgment. So will
the poor damned souls of men. They have already more
than they will be able to bear : how then will they trem
ble at the thought of having their misery so vastly
augmented !
Persons sometimes in this world are afraid of the day of
judgment. If there be an earthquake, or if there be more
than common thunder and lightning, or if there be some
unusual sight in the heavens, their hearts are ready to
tremble for fear that the 'day of judgment is at hand. O
how then do the poor souls in hell fear it, who know so
much more about it, who know by what they feel already,
and know certainly, that whenever it comes they shall
stand on the left hand of the judge, to receive the dreadful
sentence ; and that then, in soul and body, they must
enter into those everlasting burnings which are prepared
for the devil and his angels, and who probably know that
their misery is to be an hundred-fold greater than it is now.
3. Fearfulness will surprise them at the last judgment.
When Christ shall appear in the clouds of heaven, and the
last trumpet shall sound, then will the hearts of wicked
men be surprised with fearfulness. The poor damned soul,
in expectation of it, trembles every day and every hour
from the time of its departure from the body. It knows
not, indeed, when it is to be, but it knows it is to be. But
when the alarm is given in hell that the day is come, it
will be a dreadful alarm indeed. It will, as it were, fill

the caverns of hell with shrieks ; and when the souls of
the damned shall enter into their bodies, it will be with
amazing horror of what is coming. And when they shall
lift up their heads out of their graves, and shall see the
judge, it will be a most terrible sight. Gladly would they
return into their graves again, and hide themselves there,
if that might be ; and gladly would they return into hell,
their former state of misery, to hide themselves from this
awful sight, if that would excuse them.
So those sinners in Zion, who shall then be found alive
on the earth, when they shall see this sight, will be sur
prised with fearfulness. The fear and horror which many
poor sinners feel when they are dying, is great, and beyond
all that of which we can have any idea ; but that is nothing
to the horror that will seize them when they shall come to
see this sight.
There will not be a wicked man upon earth who will be
able to bear it, let him be who he will ; let him be rich or
poor, old or young, male or female, servant or master,
king or subject, learned or unlearned; let him be ever so
proud, ever so courageous, and ever so sturdy. There is
not one who will be able at all to support himself; when
he shall see this sight, it will immediately sink his spirit ;
it wiil loose the joints of his loins ; it will make his coun
tenance more ghastly than death. The rich captains, and
vaiiant generals and princes, who now scorn to show any
fear at the face of an enemy, who scorn to tremble at the
roaring of cannon, will tremble and shriek when they shall
hear the last trumpet, and see the majesty of their judge :
it will make their teeth to chatter, and make them fly to
hide themselves in the caves and rocks of mountains,
crying to the rocks and mountains to fall on them, and
cover them from the wrath of the judge.
Fearfulness will surprise them when they shall be drag
ged before the judgment-seat. The wicked hang back when
they are about to meet death ; but in no measure as they
will hang back when they come to meet their great judge.
And when they come to stand before the judge, and are
put on his left 'hand, fearfulness and amazement will sur
prise them. The majesty of the judge will be intolerable
to them. His pure and holy eye, which will behold and
search them, and pierce them through, will be more terri
ble to their souls a thousand times than flashes of lightning
piercing their hearts. There will they stand in a trembling
expectation, that by and by they shall hear the words of
that dreadful sentence proceed out of the mouth of Christ :
they will have a horrible expectation of that sentence ;
and what shall they do, whither shall they fly, so as to be
out of its hearing ? They cannot shut their ears, so as not
to hear it.
Fearfulness will surprise them when the sentence shall
come to be pronounced. At the close of the judgment,
that dreadful doom will be uttered by the judge ; and it
will be the most terrible voice that ever was heard. The
sound of the last trumpet, that shall call men to judgment,
will be a more terrible sound to wicked men than ever
they shall have heard till that time ; but the sound of the
last sentence will be much more terrible than that. There
will not be one of all those millions at the left hand,
whether high or low, king or subject, who will be able to
support himself at all under the sound of that sentence :
but they will all sink under it.
Lastly, Fearfulness will surprise them, when they shall
come to see the fire kindle upon the world, in which they
are to be tormented for ever. When the sentence shall
have been pronounced, Christ, with his blessed saints and
glorious angels, will leave this lower world, and ascend
into heaven. Then will the flames begin to kindle, and
fire will probably be seen coming down from heaven ; and
soon will the fire lay hold of that accursed multitude.
Then will their hearts be surprised with fearfulness ; that
fire will appear a dreadful fire indeed. O what chatter-
ings of teeth, what shaking of loins, what distortions of
body, will there be at that time, when they shall see, and
begin to feel, the fierceness of the flames ! What shall they
do, whither shall they go, to avoid those flames ? Where
shall they hide themselves ? If they creep into holes, or
creep into caves ofthe earth, yea if they could creep down
to the centre of the earth, it will be in vain ; for it will set
on fire the bottoms of the mountains, and burn to the

204

SINNERS IN ZION WARNED.

lowest hell. They will see no place to fly to, no place to
hide themselves.
Then their hearts will be filled with fearfulness, and will
utterly sink in despair. Thus it shall hereafter be with
every one that shall then be found to be a sinner, and
especially with sinners in Zion.

SECT. III.
Why sinners in general will hereafter be surprised with fear.
1. Fearfulness will surprise them, because they will
know that they are to be cast into devouringfire. There is
nothing which seems to give one a more terrible idea of
torment and misery, than to think of being cast alive into
a great fire ; especially if we conceive of the senses remain
ing quick, and not benumbed by the fire. The wicked
will hereafter have that to make them afraid, that they are
not only to be cast into a fire, but into devouring fire ;
which implies, that it will be a fire of extraordinary fierce
ness of heat, and before which nothing can stand.
The fire into which men are to be cast is called a fur
nace of fire. Furnaces are contrived for an extreme degree
of heat, this being necessary for the purposes for which
they are designed, as the running and refining of metals,
and the melting of materials into glass. The fire of such
earthly furnaces may be called devouring fire, as the heat
of some of them is such, that in them even stones will
presently be dissolved. Now, if a person should be brought
to the mouth of such a furnace, and there should see how
the fire glows, so as presently to make every thing cast
into it all over white and bright with fire, and at the same
time should know that he was immediately to be cast into
this furnace, would not fearfulness surprise him ?
In some heathen countries, the manner of disposing of
dead bodies is to dig a great pit, to put in it a great quan
tity of fuel, to put the dead bodies on the pile, and to set it
on fire. This is some image of the burning of dead souls
in the pit of hell. Now, if a person were brought to the
edge of such a pit, all filled with glowing flames, to be
immediately cast into it, would it not surprise the heart
with fearfulness ?
The flames of a very great fire, as when a house is all on
fire, give one some idea of the fierceness of the wrath of
God : such is the rage of the flames. And we see thatthe
greater a fire is, the fiercer is its heat in every part ; and the
reason is, because one part heats another. The heat in a
particular place, besides the heat which proceeds out of
the fuel in that place, is increased by the additional heat of
the fire all around it. Hence we may conceive something
of what fierceness that fire will be, when this visible world
shall be turned into one great furnace. That will be de
vouring fire indeed. Such will be the heat of it, that, as
the apostle says, " the elements shall melt with fervent
heat,'' 2 Pet. iii. 10.
MeD can artificially raise such a degree of heat with
burning glasses, as will quickly melt the very stones and
sand. And it is probable that the heat of that great fire
which will burn the world, will be such as to melt the
rocks, and the very ground, and turn them into a kind of
liquid fire : so that the whole world will probably be con
verted into a gi'eat lake, or liquid globe of fire, a vast ocean
of fire, in which the wicked shall be overwhelmed. It will
be an ocean of fire, which will always be in a tempest, in
which the wicked shall be tossed to and fro, having no rest
day nor night, vast waves or billows of fire continually
rolling over their heads.
But all this will be only an image of that dreadful fire of
the wrath of God, which the wicked shall at the same time
suffer in their souls. We read in Rev. xix. 15. of " the
fierceness and wrath of Almighty God." This is an ex
traordinary expression, carrying a terrible idea of the future
misery of the wicked. If it had been only said of the
wrath of God, that would have expressed what is dreadful.
If the wrath of a king be as the roaring of a lion, what is
the wrath of God ? But it is not only said the wrath of
God, but the fierceness and wrath of God, or the rage of
his wrath ; and not only so, but the fierceness and wrath of
Almighty God. O what is that ! the fierceness and rage or
fury of Omnipotence ! of a being of infinite strength !

What an idea doth that give of the state of those worms
that suffer the fierceness and wrath of such an Almighty
Being ! And is it any wonder that fearfulness surprises their
hearts, when they see this about to be executed upon them ?
2. Another reason given in the text, why fearfulness will
hereafter surprise sinners, is, that ihey will be sensible this
devouring fire will be everlasting. If a man were brought
to the mouth of a great furnace to be cast into the midst of
it, if at the same time he knew he should suffer tor
ment but for one minute, yet that minute would be so ter
rible to him, that fearfulness would surprise and astonish
him. How much more, if he were to be cast into a fire
much fiercer ; the fire in which wicked men are hereafter
to be tormented ! And if the thought of suffering this de
vouring fire for one minute would be enough to fill one
with such surprising fearfulness, what will seize them,
when they shall know that they are to bear it, not for one
minute, nor for one day, nor for one year, nor for one age,
nor for a hundred ages, nor for a million of ages, one after
another, but for ever and ever ; without any end, and never,
never be delivered !
They shall know, that the fire itself will be everlasting
fire ; fire that never shall be quenched : Mark ix. 43, 44.
" To go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quench
ed; where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not
quenched." And they shall know that their torment in
that fire never will have an end, Rev. xiv. 10, 11. They
shall know that they shall for ever be full of quick sense
within and without ; their heads, their eyes, their tongues,
their hands, their feet, their loins, and their vitals, shall for
ever be full of glowing melting fire, fierce enough to melt
the very rocks and elements ; and also that they shall
eternally be full of the most quick and lively sense to feel
the torment.
They shall know that they shall never cease restlessly to
plunge and roll in that mighty ocean of fire. They shall
know that those billows of fire, which are greater than the
greatest mountains, will never cease to roll over them, fol
lowing one another for ever and ever.
At the same time they will have a more lively sense of
eternity than we ever can have here. We can have but a
little sense of what an eternal duration is ; and indeed none
can comprehend it; it swallows up all thought and ima
gination : if we set ourselves to think upon it, we are
presently lost. But they will have another and far clearer
sense of it than we have. O how vast will eternity appear
to them, when they think of spending it in such burnings !
This is another reason that fearfulness will surprise them.
The thoughts of eternity will always amaze them, and will
sink and depress them to a bottomless depth of despair.
3. The third reason given in the text, why fearfulness
will surprise them at the apprehension of this punishment,
is, that they will know, they shall not be able to bear it.
When they shall see themselves going into that devouring
fire, they will know that they are not able to bear it. They
wili know that they are not able to grapple with the fierce
ness and rage of those flames ; for they will see the fierce
ness of the wrath of God in them; they will see an awful
manifestation of Omnipotence in the fury of that glowing
furnace. And in those views their hearts will utterly fail
them ; their hands will not be strong, nor can their hearts
endure. They will see that their strength is weakness;
and that they can do nothing in shch a conflict.
When they shall have come to the edge of the pit, and
of the burning lake, and shall look into the furnace, then
they will cry out with exclamations like these : O ! what
shaft I do? how shall I bear the torments of this fire? how
can I endure them ? Who can endure ? where is the man
so stout-hearted, where is the giant of such strength and
such courage, that he can bear this ? O ! what shall I do ?
Must I be cast in thither ? I cannot bear it ; I can never
endure it. O that I could return to my first nothing ! How
can I endure it one moment? how much less can I endure
it for ever and ever 1 And must I bear it for ever ? what !
for ever and ever, without any end, and never find any
refuge, never be suffered to return to my first notlring, and
be no nearer to the end of these sufferings after millions
of ages? O what dismal contentions and shrieks, and
shaking of loins, and gnashing of teeth, will there be then !
No wonder that fearfulness will then surprise the wicked.

Sect. IV.

WHY HYPOCRITES WILL BE SURPRISED.

205

SECT. IV.
Why it will be especially thus with sinners in Zion, who
dwell among God's visible people.
There will hereafter be a very great difference between
sinners in Zion and other sinners ; a great difference be
tween the most pointed hypocrite of them all, and the
drunkards, the adulterers, the Sodomites, the thieves, and
murderers among the heathen, who sin against only the
light of nature. The fearfulness which will surprise them,
although it will be very dreadful, yet will be in no measure
so amazing and horrible, as that which will seize the sin
ners in Zion. That fierceness and wrath of Almighty
God, which they will suffer, will be mild and moderate
in comparison with that which the sinners in Zion will
suffer. The wrath of God is in his word manifested against the
wicked heathens ; but it is ten times as much manifested
against those sinners who make the profession and enjoy
the privileges of the people of God ; and yet remain ene
mies to God. Both the Old Testament and the New are
full of terrible denunciations against such. Read the books
of Moses, read the prophets, and you will find them full of
dreadful threatenings against such. Read over the history
of Christ's life and the speeches which he made when upon
earth ; there you will see what woes and curses he frequently
denounced against such. How often did he say, that it
should be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the
day of judgment, than for the cities in which most of his
mighty works were done ! Read over the history of the
Acts of the Apostles, and their epistles ; there you will
find the same. It is the sinners in Zion, or hypocrites,
that are always in Scripture spoken of as the people of
God's wrath : Isa. x. 6. "I will send him against a hy
pocritical nation, against the people of my wrath will I
give him a charge, to take the spoil." — The reasons are
chiefly these :
1 . That they sin against so much greater light. This is
often spoken of in Scripture, as an aggravation to the sin
and wickedness of sinners in Zion. He that knows not
his Lord's will, and doeth it not, is declared not to be
worthy of so many stripes, as he who, being informed of
his Lord's will, is in like manner disobedient. If men
be blind, they have comparatively no sin ; but when they
see, when they have light to know their duty, and to
know their obligation, then their sin is great, John ix. 14.
When the light that is in a man is darkness, how great is
that darkness ! and when men live in wickedness, in the
midst of great light, that light is like to be the blackness
of darkness indeed.
2. That they sin against such professions and vows. The
heathens never pretended to be the worshippers of the
true God. They never pretended to be Christ's disciples ;
they never came under any covenant-obligations to be
such. But this is not the case with sinners in Zion. Now,
God highly resents falsehood and treachery. Judas, who
betrayed Christ with a kiss, was a greater sinner, and
much more the object of God's wrath, than Pilate, who
condemned him to be crucified, and was his murderer.
3. That they sin against so much greater mercy. They
have the infinite mercy of God, in giving his own Son,
often set before them : they have the dying love of Christ
represented to them : they have this mercy, this glorious
Saviour, his blood and righteousness, often offered to them :
thev have a blessed opportunity to obtain salvation for
their souls ; a great price is put into their hands to this
end : they have that precious treasure, the Holy Scriptures,
and enjoy sabbaths, and sacraments, and the various
means of grace : but all these means and advantages,
these opportunities, offers, mercies, and invitations, they
abuse, despise, and reject.
¦ But there is no wrath like that which arises from mercy
abused and rejected. When mercy is in this way turned
into wrath, this is the fiercest wrath. — Sinners in Zion,
beside their fall by the first Adam, have a fall also by the
second : he is a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence,
at which they stumble and fell ; and there is no fall like
» This was written in 1740, five or six years after the former revival had

this ; the fall by the first Adam is light in comparison
with it.
On these accounts, whenever we see the day of judg
ment, as every one of us shall see it, we shall easily dis
tinguish between the sinners in Zion and other sinners, by
their shriller cries, their louder, more bitter, and dolorous
shrieks, the greater amazement of their countenances, and
the more dismal shaking of their limbs, and contortions of
their bodies. SECT. V.
An earnest exhortation to sinners in Zion, now to fly from
the devouring fire and everlasting burnings.
You have often been exhorted to fly from the "wrath
to come." This devouring fire, these everlasting burnings,
of which we have been speaking, are the wrath to. come.
You hear of this fire, of these burnings, and of that fear
fulness which will seize and surprise sinners in Zion here
after ; and O what reason have you of thankfulness that
you only hear of them, that you do not as yet feel them,
and that they have not already taken hold of you ! They
are, as it were, following you, and coming nearer and
nearer every day. Those fierce flames are already kindled
in the wrath of God ; yea, the fierceness and wrath of
Almighty God burn against you ; it is ready for you :
that pit is prepared for you, with fire and much wood,
and the wrath of the Lord, as a stream of brimstone, doth
kindle it.
Lot was with great urgency hastened out of Sodom,
and commanded to make haste, and fly for his life, and
escape to the mountains, lest he should be consumed in
those flames which burned up Sodom and Gomorrah.
But that burning was a mere spark to that devouring fire,
and those everlasting burnings, of which you are in danger.
Therefore improve the present opportunity.
Now, God is pleased again to pour out his Spirit upon
us ; and he is doing great tilings amongst us. God is in
deed come again, the same great God who so wonderfully
appeared among us some years ago, and who hath since,
for our sins, departed from us, left us so long in so dull
and dead a state, and hath let sinners alone in their sins ;
so that there have been scarcely any signs to be seen of
any such work as conversion. That same God is now
come again ; he is really come in like manner, and begins,
as he did before, gloriously to manifest his mighty power,
and the riches of his grace. He brings sinners out of
darkness into marvellous light. He rescues poor captive
souls out of the hands of Satan ; he saves persons from
the devouring fire ; he plucks one and another as brands
out of the burnings ; he opens the prison-doors, and
knocks off their chains, and brings outpoor prisoners; he
is now working salvation among us from this very de
struction of which you have now heard.
Now, now, then, "is the time, now is the blessed oppor
tunity to escape those everlasting burnings. Now God
hath again set open the same fountain among us, and
gives one more happy opportunity for souls to escape.
Now he hath set open a wide door, and he stands in the
door-way, calling and begging with a loud voice to the
sinners of Zion : Come, saith he, come, fly from the wrath
to come ; here is a refuge for you ; fly hither for refuge ;
lay hold on the hope set before you.
A little while ago, it was uncertain whether we should
ever see such an opportunity again. If it had always
continued as it hath been for some years past,* almost all
of you would surely have gone to hell ; in a little time
tearfulness would have surprised you, and you would have
been cast into that devouring fire, and those everlasting
burnings. But in infinite mercy God gives another op
portunity ; and blessed are your eyes, that they see it, if
you did but know your own opportunity.
You have had your life spared through these six years
past, to this very time, to another outpouring of the Spirit.
What would you have done, if you had died before it
came ? How doleful would your case have been 1 But
you have reason to bless God that it was not so, and that
you are yet alive, and now again see a blessed day of

206

SINNERS IN ZION WARNED.

grace. And will you not improve it ? Have you not so
much love to your poor souls, as to improve such an op
portunity as this ?
Some, there is reason to think, have lately fled for
refuge to Christ ; and will you be willing to stay behind
still, poor miserable captives, condemned to suffer for ever
in the lake of fire ? Hereafter you will see those of your
neighbours and acquaintance, who are converted, mounting
up as with wings, with songs of joy, to meet their Lord ;
and if you 'remain unconverted, you at the same time
will be surprised with fear, and horror will take hold of
vou, because of the devouring fire, and the everlasting
burnings. It is an awful thing to think of, that there are now
some persons in this very congregation, here and there,
who will be the subjects of that very misery of which we
have now heard, although it be so dreadful, although it be
so intolerable, and although it be eternal ! There are pro
bably some now reading or hearing this discourse, who
shall be seen, at the day of judgment, among the devils,
at the left hand of the judge, with frighted, ghastly coun
tenances ; wringing their hands, gnashing their teeth,
shrieking and crying out.
Now we know not their names, nor where to look for
them. But God knoweth their names, and now seeth and
knoweth what they think, and how much they regard the
warnings which are given them this day. We have not
the least reason to suppose any other than that some of
you will hereafter see others entering into glory with
Christ, and saints, and angels, while you, with dreadful
horror, shall see the fire begin to kindle about you. It
may be, that the persons are now blessing themselves in
their own hearts, and each one saying with himself, Well,
I do not intend it shall be I. Every one hopes to go to
heaven ; none would by any means miss of it. If any
thought they should miss of it, they would be greatly
amazed. But all will not go thither ; it will undoubtedly
be the portion of some to toss and tumble for ever among
the fiery billows of God's wrath.
It is not to be supposed, but that there are some here
who will not be in earnest ; let them have ever so good an
opportunity to obtain heaven, they will not thoroughly
improve it. Tell them of hell as often as you will, and
set it out in as lively colours as you will, they will be
slack and slothful ; and they will never be likely to obtain
heaven, while they are sleeping, and dreaming, and in
tending, and hoping. The wrath of God, which pursues
them, will take them by the heels ; hell, that follows after,
will overtake them ; fearfulness will surprise them, and a
tempest will steal them away.
Nor is it to be supposed, that all who are now seeking
will hold out ; some will backslide ; they will be unsteady.
If now they seem to be pretty much engaged, it will not
hold. Times will probably alter by and by, and they
having not obtained grace, there will be many temptations
to backsliding, with which they will comply. The hearts
of men are very unsteady ; they are not to be trusted.
Men are very short-winded ; they cannot tell how to have
patience to wait upon God ; they are soon discouraged.
Some that are now under convictions may lose them.
Perhaps they will not leave off seeking salvation at once ;
but they will come to it by degrees. After a while, they
will begin to hearken to excuses, not to be quite so con
stant in duty ; they will begin to think that they need not
be quite so strict ; they will say to themselves, they see no
hurt in such and such things ; they see not but they may
practise them without any great guilt. Thus giving way
to temptations, and hearkening to excuses, they will by
degrees lose their convictions, and become secure in sin.
There were some who were guilty of backsliding, the last
time of the revival of religion among us. While the talk
upon religious subjects was generally kept alive, they con
tinued to seek ; but when this began to abate, and they
saw others less zealous than they had been, and especially

when they saw some miscarriages of professors, they began
to grow more careless, to seek less earnestly, and to plead
these things as an excuse. And they are left behind still ;
they are to this day in a miserable condemned state, in
danger of the devouring fire, and of everlasting burnings ;
in twice so dangerous a state as they were in before they
were awakened ; and God only knows what will become
of them. And as it was then, so we dread it will be now.
Some who are now in a natural condition, are doubtless
near death ; they have not long to live in the world ; and
if they seek in a dull way, or if, after they have sought for
a while, they are guilty of backsliding, death will come upon
them long enough before there will come such another op
portunity. When they leave off seeking, it will not be with
out a design of seeking again some time or other ; but death
will be too quick for them. It is not the manner of death
to wait upon men, while they take time to indulge their
sloth, and gratify their lusts. When his appointed time
comes, he will do his work. Will you put off in hope of
seeing another such time seven years hence ? Alas ! how
many of those who are now in a natural condition may be
in hell before another seven years shall have elapsed !
Therefore now let every one look to himself. It is for
your own souls' salvation. If you be foolish, and will not
hearken to counsel, will not improve the opportunity
when it is given you, and will not enter into such an open
door, you alone must bear it. If you shall miss this oppor
tunity, and quench your convictions now, and there shall
come another time of the outpouring of the Spirit, you will
be far less likely to have any profit by it ; as we see now
God chiefly moves on the hearts of those who are very
young, who are brought forward upon the stage of action
since the last outpouring of the Spirit, who were not then
come to years of so much understanding, and consequently
not so much in the way of the influences of the Spirit.
As to those who were grown up, and had convictions then,
and quenched them, the most of these are abundantly
more hardened, and seem to be more passed over. So it
will probably be with you hereafter, if you miss this
opportunity, and quench tlie convictions of the Spirit
which you have now.
As to you who had awakenings the last time of the out
pouring of the Spirit, and have quenched them, and remain
to this day in a natural condition, let me call upon you
also, now that God is giving you one more such opportu
nity. If passing in impenitence through one such
opportunity hath so hardened you, and hath been such a
great disadvantage to you, how sad will your case be, if
you shall now miss another ! Will you not thoroughly
awake out of sleep, bestir yourselves for your salvation,
and resolve now to begin again, and never leave off more ?
Many fled for refuge from the devouring fire before, and
you were left behind. Others have fled for refuge now,
and still you are left behind ; and will you always remain
behind ? Consider, can you dwell with devouring fire ?
can you dwell with everlasting burnings ? Shall children,
babes and sucklings, go into the kingdom of God before
you ?
How will you hereafter bear to see them coming and
sitting down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the
kingdom of God, when yourselves are thrust out, and
are surprised with fearfulness at the sight of that devour
ing fire, and those everlasting burnings, into which you
are about to be cast ? Take heed lest a like threatening be
fulfilled upon you with that which we have in Numb. xiv.
22, 23. " Because all those men which have seen my glory,
and my miracles which I did in Egypt, and in the wilder
ness, and have tempted me now these ten times, and have
not hearkened to my voice ; surely they shall not see the
land which I sware unto their fathers ; neither shall any
of them that provoked me see it." Together with ver. 31.
" But your little ones, which ye said should be a prey,
them will I bring in, and they shall know the land which
ye have despised."

THE END OF THE WICKED

CONTEMPLATED

BY THE RIGHTEOUS :

THE TORMENTS OF THE WICKED IN HELL, NO OCCASION OF GRIEF TO THE SAINTS
IN HEAVEN.

Rev. xviii. 20.
Rejoice over her, thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and
prophets ;for God hath avenged you on her.*
INTRODUCTION.
In this chapter we have a very particular account of the
fall of Babylon, or the antichristian church, and of the
vengeance of God executed upon her. Here it is pro
claimed that Babylon the great is fallen, and become the
habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and
a cage of every unclean and hateful bird ; that her sins
had reached unto heaven, and that God had remembered
her iniquity ; that God gave commandment to reward her,
as she had rewarded others, to double unto her double
according to her works ; in the cup she had filled, to fill
to her double, and how much she had glorified her
self, and lived deliriously, so much torment and sorrow
to give her. And it is declared, that these plagues are
come upon her in one day, death, mourning, and famine ;
and that she should be utterly burnt with fire ; because
strong is the Lord who judgeth her.
These things have respect partly to the overthrow of the
antichristian church in this world, and partly to the ven
geance of God upon her in the world to come. There is
no necessity to suppose, that such extreme torments as are
here mentioned will ever be executed upon papists, or
upon the antichristian church, in this world. There will in
deed be a dreadful and visible overthrow of that idolatrous
church in this world. But we are not to understand the
plagues here mentioned as exclusive of the vengeance
which God will execute on the wicked upholders and
promoters of antichristianism, and on the cruel anti
christian persecutors, in another world.
This is evident by ver. 3. of the next chapter, where,
with reference to the same destruction of antichrist which
is spoken of in this chapter, it is said, " Her smoke rose
up for ever and ever ;" in which words the eternal punish
ment of antichrist is evidently spoken of. Antichrist is
here represented as being cast into hell, and there remain
ing for ever after ; he hath no place any where else but in
hell. This is evident by ver. 20. of the next chapter,
where, concerning the destruction of antichrist, it is said,
" And the beast was taken, and with him the false pro
phet that wrought miracles before him, with which he de
ceived them that received the mark of the beast, and them
that worshipped his image. These both were cast alive
into a lake of fire burning with brimstone."
Not but that the wicked antichristians have in all ages
gone to hell as they died, and not merely at the fall of anti
christ ; but then the wrath of God against antichrist, of
which damnation is the fruit, will be made eminently visi
ble here on earth, by many remarkable tokens. Then
antichrist will be confined to hell, and will have no more
place here on earth ; much after the same manner as the
devil is said at the beginning of Christ's thousand years'
s The substance of two posthumous discourses, dated March, 1773.

reign on earth, to be cast into the bottomless pit, as you
may see in the beginning of the twentieth chapter. Not
but that he had his place in the bottomless pit before ; he
was cast down to hell when he fell at first : 2 Pet. ii. 4.
" Cast them down to hell, and deliver them into chains of
darkness." But now, when he shall be suffered to deceive
the nations no more, his kingdom will be confined to hell.
In this text is contained part of what John heard ut
tered upon this occasion ; and in these words we may ob
serve, 1 . To whom this voice is directed, viz. to the holy pro
phets and apostles, and the rest of the inhabitants of the
heavenly world. When God shall pour out his wrath
upon the antichristian church, it will be seen, and taken
notice of, by all the inhabitants of heaven, even by holy
prophets and apostles. Neither will they see as uncon
cerned spectators.
2. What they are called upon by the voice to do, viz.
to rejoice over Babylon now destroyed, and lying under the
wrath of God. They are not directed to rejoice over her
in prosperity, but in flames, and beholding the smoke of
her burning ascending up for ever and ever.
3. A reason given : for God hath avenged you on her ;
j. e. God hath executed just vengeance upon her, for shed
ding your blood, and cruelly persecuting you. For thus
the matter is represented, that antichrist had been guilty
of shedding the blood of the holy prophets and apostles,
as in chap. xvi. 6. " For they have shed the blood of saints
and of prophets." And in ver. 24. of this context, " In her
was found the blood of prophets and of saints, and of all
them that were slain on the earth." Not that antichrist had
literally shed the blood of the prophets and apostles ; but
he had shed the blood of those who were their followers,
who were of the same spirit) and of the same church, and
same mystical body. The prophets and apostles in heaven
are nearly related and united to the saints on earth ; they
live, as it were, in true christians in all ages. So that by
slaying these, persecutors show that they would slay the
prophets and apostles, if they could ; and they indeed do
it as much as in them lies.
On the same account, Christ says of the Jews in his
time, Luke xi. 50. " That the blood of all the prophets,
which was shed from the foundation of the world, may be
required of this generation ; from the blood of Ahel, unto
the blood of Zacharias, which perished between the altar
and the temple : verily I say unto you, it shall be required
of this generation." So Christ himself is said to have been
crucified in the antichristian church, chap. xi. 8. " And
their dead bodies shall lie in the street of the great city,
which spiritually is called Sodom and Egypt, where also
our Lord was crucified." So all the inhabitants of heaven,
all the saints from the beginning of the world, and the
angels also, are called upon to rejoice over Babylon, be
cause of God's vengeance upon her, wherein he avenges
them : they all of them had in effect been injured and
persecuted by antichrist. Indeed they are not called upon
to rejoice in having their revenge glutted, but in seeing

208

THE END OF THE WICKED CONTEMPLATED.

justice executed, and in seeing the love and tenderness of
God towards them, manifested in his severity towards
their enemies.

SECT. I.
When the saints in glory shall see the wrath of God exe
cuted on ungodly men, it will be no occasion qf grief to
them, but of rejoicing.
It is not only the sight of God's wrath executed on those
wicked men who are of the antichristian church, which
will be occasion of rejoicing to the saints in glory ; but
also the sight of the destruction of all God's enemies :
whether they have been the followers of antichrist or not,
that alters not the case, if they have been the enemies of
God, and of Jesus Christ. All wicked men will at last
be destroyed together, as being united in the same cause
and interest, as being all of Satan's army. They will all
stand together at the day of judgment, as being all of the
same company.
And if we understand the text to have respect only to a
temporal execution of God's wrath on his enemies ; that
will not alter the case. The thing they are called upon to
rejoice at, is the execution of God's wrath upon his and
their enemies. And if it be matter of rejoicing to them
to see justice executed in part upon them, or to see the
beginning of the execution of it in this world ; for the
same reason will they rejoice with greater joy, in beholding
it fully executed. For the thing here mentioned as the
foundation of their joy, is the execution of just vengeance :
Rejoice, for God hath avenged you on her.
Prop.' I. The glorified saints will see the wrath of God
executed upon ungodly men. This the Scriptures plainly
teach us, that tlie righteous and the wicked in the other
world see each other s state. Thus the rich man in hell,
and Lazarus and Abraham in heaven, are represented as
seeing each other's opposite states, in the 16th chap, of
Luke. The wicked in their misery will see the saints in
the kingdom of heaven ; Luke xiii. 28, 29. " There shall
be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see
Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets in
the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out."
So the saints in glory will see the misery of the wicked
under the wrath of God. Isa. lxvi. 24. " And they shall
go forth and look on the carcases of the men that have
transgressed against me : for their worm shall not die,
neither shall their fire be quenched." And Rev. xiv. 9,
10. " If any man worship the beast and his image, and
receive his mark in his forehead, or in his hand, the same
shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is
poured out without mixture, into the cup of his indigna
tion ; and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone,
in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of
the Lamb." The saints are not here mentioned, being in
cluded in Christ, as his members. The church is the ful
ness of Christ, and is called Christ, 1 Cor. xii. 12. So in
the 19th chapter, ver. 2, 3. the smoke of Babylon's tor
ment is represented as rising up for ever and ever, in the
sight of the heavenly inhabitants.
At the day of judgment, the saints in glory at Christ's
right hand, will see the wicked at the left hand in their
amazement and horror, will hear the judge pronounce
sentence upon them, saying, " Depart, ye cursed, into
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels ;"
and will see them go away into everlasting punishment.
But the Scripture seems to hold forth to us, that the saints
will not only see the misery of the wicked at the day of
judgment, but the fore-mentioned texts imply, that the
state of the damned in hell will be in the view of the
heavenly inhabitants ; that the two worlds of happiness
and misery will be in view of each other. Though we
know not by what means, nor after what manner, it will
be ; yet the Scriptures certainly lead us to think, that they
will some way or other have a direct and immediate ap
prehension of each other's state. The saints in glory will
see how the damned are tormented ; they will see God's
threatenings fulfilled, and his wrath executed upon them.
Prop. II. When they shall see it, it will be no occasion
ot grief to them. The miseries of the damned in hell will

be inconceivably great. When they shall come to bear the
wrath of the Almighty poured out upon them without
mixture, and executed upon them without pity or restraint,
or any mitigation ; it will doubtless cause anguish, and
horror, and amazement vastly beyond all the sufferings and
torments that ever any man endured in this world ; yea,
beyond all extent of our words or thoughts. For God in
executing wrath upon ungodly men will act like an
Almighty God. The Scripture calls this wrath, God's
fury, and the fierceness of his wrath ; and we are lold that
this is to show God's wrath, and to make his power known ;
or to make known how dreadful his wrath is, and how
great his power.
., The saints in glory will see this, and be far more sensible
of it than now we can possibly be. They will be far more
sensible how dreadful the wrath of God is, and will better
understand how terrible the sufferings of the damned are ;
yet this will be no occasion of grief to them. They will
not be sorry for the damned ; it will cause no uneasiness
or dissatisfaction to them ; but on the contrary, when they
have this sight, it will excite them to joyful praises. — These
two things are evidences of it :
1. That the seeing of the wrath of God executed upon
the damned, should cause grief in the saints in glory, is in
consistent with that state of perfect happiness in which
they are. There can no such thing as grief enter, to be an
allay to the happiness and joy of that world of blessed
ness. Grief is an utter stranger in that world. God hath
promised that he will wipe away all tears from their eyes,
and there shall be no more sorrow. Rev. xxi. 4. and
chap. vii. 17.
2. The saints in heaven possess all things as their own,
and therefore all things contribute to their joy and happi
ness. The Scriptures teach that the saints in glory inherit
all things. This God said in John's hearing, when he had
the vision of the New Jerusalem ; Rev. xxi. 7. And the
Scriptures teach us to understand this absolutely of all the
works of creation and providence. 1 Cor. iii. 21, 22.
" All things are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Ce
phas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or
things to come ; all are yours." Here the apostle teaches,
that all things in the world to come, or in the future and
eternal world, are the saints' ; not only life but death ; men,
and angels, and devils, heaven and hell, are theirs, to con
tribute to their joy and happiness. Therefore the damned
and their misery, their sufferings and the wrath of God
poured out upon them, will be an occasion of joy to them.
If there were any thing whatsoever that did not contribute
to their joy, but caused grief, then there would be some
thing which would not be theirs.
That the torments of the damned are no matter of grief,
but of joy, to the inhabitants of heaven, is very clearly ex
pressed in several passages of this book of Revelation;
particularly by chap. xvi. 5 — 7. and chap. xix. at the be
ginning. SECT. II.
Why the sufferings qf the wicked will not be cause of grief
to the righteous, but the contrary.
1. Negatively; it will not be because the saints in
heaven are the subjects of any ill disposition ; but on the
contrary, this rejoicing of theirs will be the fruit of an
amiable and excellent disposition : it will be the fruit of a
perfect holiness and conformity to Christ, the holy Lamb
of God. The devil delights in the misery of men from
cruelty, and from envy and revenge, and because he de
lights in misery, for its own sake, from a malicious dispo
sition. But it will be from exceedingly different principles, and
for quite other reasons, that the just damnation of the
wicked will be an occasion of rejoicing to the saints in
glory. It will not be because they delight in seeing the
misery of others absolutely considered. The damned suf
fering divine vengeance will be no occasion of joy to the
saints merely as it is the misery of others, or because it is
pleasant to them to behold the misery of others merely for
its own sake. The rejoicing of the saints on this occasion
is no argument, that they are not of a most amiable and
excellent spirit, or that there is any defect on that account,

Sect. II.

WHY THE SUFFERINGS OF THE WICKED, &c.

209

that there is any thing wanting, which would render them
of a more amiable disposition. It is no argument that they
have not a spirit of goodness and love reigning in them in
absolute perfection, or that herein they do not excel the
greatest instances of it on earth, as much as the stars are
higher than the earth, or the sun brighter than a glow
worm. And whereas the heavenly inhabitants are in the text
called upon to rejoice over Babylon, because God had
avenged them on her ; it is not to be understood, that they
are to rejoice in having their revenge glutted, but to rejoice
in seeing the justice of God executed, and in seeing his
love to them in executing it on his enemies.
2. Positively ; the sufferings of-the damned will be no
occasion of grief to the heavenly inhabitants, as they will
have no love nor pity to the damned as such. It will be
no argument of want of a spirit of love in them, lhat they
do not love the damned ; for the heavenly inhabitants will
know that it is not fit that they should love them, because
they will know then, that God has no love to them, nor
pity for them ; but that they are the objects of God's eternal
hatred. And they will then be perfectly conformed to God
in their wills and affections. They will love what God
loves, and that only. However the saints in heaven may
have loved the damned while here, especially those of them
who were near and dear to them in this world, they will
have no love to them hereafter.
It will be an occasion of their rejoicing, as the glory of
God will appear in it. The glory of God appears in all his
works : and therefore there is no work of God which the
saints in glory shall behold and contemplate, but what will
be an occasion of rejoicing to them. God glorifies himself
in the eternal damnation of the ungodly men. God glori
fies himself in all that he doth ; but he glorifies himself
principally in his eternal disposal of his intelligent creatures,
some are appointed to everlasting life, and others left to
everlasting death.
The saints in heaven will be perfect in their love to
God : their hearts will be all a flame of love to God, and
therefore they will greatly value the glory of God, and will
exceedingly delight in seeing him glorified. The saints
highly value the glory of God here in this, but how much
more will they so do in the world to come. They will
therefore greatly rejoice in all that contributes to that glory.
The glory of God will in their esteem be of greater conse
quence, than the welfare of thousands and millions of souls.
— Particularly,
(1.) They will rejoice in seeing the justice of God glori
fied in the sufferings of the damned. The misery of the
damned, dreadful as it is, is but what justice requires.
They in heaven will see and know it much more clearly,
than any of us do here. They will see how perfectly just
and righteous their punishment is, and therefore how pro
perly inflicted by the supreme Governor of the world.
They will greatly rejoice to see justice take place, to see
that all the sin and wickedness that have been committed
in the world, is remembered of God, and has its due
punishment. The sight of this strict and immutablejustice
of God will render him amiable and adorable in their eyes.
They will rejoice when they see him who is their Father
and eternal portion so glorious in his justice.
Then there will be no remaining difficulties about the
justice of God, about the absolute decrees of God, or any
thing pertaining to the dispensations of God towards men.
But divine justice in the destruction of the. wicked will
then appear as light without darkness, and will shine as
the sun without clouds, and on this account will they sing
joyful songs of praise to God, as we see the saints and
angels do, when God pours the vials of his wrath upon
antichrist; Rev. xvi. 5 — 7. They sing joyfully to God on
this account, that true and righteous are his judgments ;
Rev. xix. 1 — 6. They seeing God so strictly just will
make them value his love the more. Mercy and grace are
more valuable on this account. The more they shall see
of the justice of God, the more will they prize and rejoice
in his love.
(2.) They will rejoice in it, as it will be a glorious mani
festation of the power and majesty of God. God will
show his own greatness in executing vengeance on ungod
ly men. This is mentioned as one end of the destruction

of the ungodly ; " What if God, willing to show his wrath,
and make his power known, endured with much long-
suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction?" God
will hereby show how much he is above his enemies.
There are many now in the world, who proudly lift up
themselves against God. There are many open opposers
of the cause and interest of Christ. " They set their
mouth against the heavens, and their tongue walketh
through the earth." Then God will show his glorious
power in destroying these enemies.
The power of God is sometimes spoken of as very
glorious, as appearing in the temporal destruction of his
enemies ; Exod. xv. 6. " Thy right hand, O Lord, is be
come glorious in power; thy right hand, O Lord, hath
dashed in pieces the enemy." But how much more glori
ous will it appear in his triumphing over, and dashing in
pieces at once, all his enemies, wicked men and devils
together, all his haughty foes 1 The power of God will
gloriously appear in dashing to pieces his enemies as a
potter's vessel. Moses rejoiced and sang when he saw
God glorify his power in the destruction of Pharaoh and
his host at the Red sea. But how much more will the
saints in glory rejoice, when they shall see God gloriously
triumphing over all his enemies in their eternal ruin ! Then
it will appear how dreadful God is, and how dreadful a
thing it is to disobey and condemn him. It is often men
tioned as a part of the glory of God, that he is a terrible
God. To see the majesty, and greatness, and terribleness
of God, appearing in the destruction of his enemies, will
cause the saints to rejoice ; and when they shall see how
great and terrible a being God is, how will they prize his
favour ! how will they rejoice that they are the objects of
his love ! how will they praise him the more joyfully, that
he should choose them to be his children, and to live in
the enjoyment of him !
It will occasion rejoicing in them, as they will have the
greater sense of their own happiness, by seeing the contrary
misery. It is the nature of pleasure and pain, of happi
ness and misery, greatly to heighten the sense of each
other. Thus the seeing of the happiness of others tends
to make men more sensible of their own calamities ; and
the seeing of the calamities of others tends to heighten
the sense of our own enjoyments.
When the saints in glory, therefore, shall see the doleful
state of the damned, how will this heighten their sense of
the blessedness of their own state, so exceedingly different
from it ! When they shall see how miserable others of their
fellow-creatures are, who were naturally in the same cir
cumstances with themselves ; when they shall see the
smoke of their torment, and the raging of the flames of
their burning, and hear their dolorous shrieks and cries,
and consider that they in the mean time are in the most
blissful state, and shall surely be in it to all eternity ; how
will they rejoice !
This will give them a joyful sense of the grace and love
of God to them, because hereby they will see how great a
benefit they have by it. When they shall see the dreadful
miseries ofthe damned, and consider that they deserved the
same misery, and that it was sovereign grace, and nothing
else, which made them so much to differ from the damned,
that, if it had not been for that, they would have been in
the same condition ; but that God from all eternity was
pleased to set his love upon them, that Christ hath laid
down his life for them, and hath made them thus gloriously
happy for ever, O how will they admire that dying love of
Christ, which has redeemed them from so great a misery,
and purchased for them so great happiness, and has so
distinguished them from others of their fellow-creatures !
How joyfully will they sing to God and the Lamb, when
they behold this ! SECT. III.
An objection answered.
The objection is, " If we are apprehensive of the
damnation of others now, it in no wise becomes us to
rejoice at it, but to lament it. If we see others in imminent
danger of going to hell, it is accounted a very sorrowful
thing, and it is looked upon as an argument of a senseless
and wicked spirit, to look upon it otherwise. When it is

210

THE END OF THE WICKED CONTEMPLATED.

a very dead time with respect to religion, and a very
degenerate and corrupt time among a people, it is account
ed a thing greatly to be lamented ; and on this account,
that at such times tliere are but few converted and saved,
and many perish. Paul tells us, that he had great heavi
ness and continual sorrow in his heart, because so many
of the Jews were in a perishing state : Rom. ix. 1, 2, 3.
" I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also
bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great
heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart. For I could
wish that myself were accursed from Christ, for my
brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh." And if a
neighbour die, and his death be attended with circum
stances which look darkly as to the state of his soul, we
account it a sorrowful thing, because he hath left us no
more comfortable grounds to hope for his salvation. Why,
is it not then an unbecoming thing in the saints in glory to
rejoice when they see the damnation of the ungodly ?
Ans. 1 . It is now our duty to love all men, though they
are wicked ; but it will not he a duty to love wicked men
hereafter. Christ, by many precepts in his word, hath
made it our duty to love all men. We are commanded to
love wicked men, and our enemies and persecutors. But
this command doth not extend to the saints in glory, with
respect to the damned in hell. Nor is there the same rea
son that it should. We ought now to love all, and even
wicked men; we know not but that God loves them.
However wicked any man is, yet we know not but that
he is one whom God loved from eternity ; we know not
but that Christ loved him with a dying love, had his name
upon his heart before the world was, and had respect to
him when he endured those bitter agonies on the cross.
We know not but that he is to be our companion in glory
to all eternity.
But this is not the case in another world. The saints in
glory will know concerning the damned in hell, that God
never loved them, but that he hates them, and will be for
ever hated of God. This hatred of God will be fully de
clared to them ; they will see it, and will see the fruits of
it in their misery. Therefore, when God has thus declared
his hatred of the damned, and the saints see it, it will be
no way becoming in the saints to love them, nor to mourn
over them. It becomes the saints fully and perfectly to
consent to what God doth, without any reluctance or oppo
sition of spirit ; yea, it becomes them to rejoice in every
thing that God sees meet to be done.
Ans. 2. We ought now to seek and be concerned for
the salvation of wicked men, because now they are capable
subjects of it. Wicked men, though they may be very
wicked; yet are capable subjects of mercy. It is yet a
day of grace with them, and they have the offers of salva
tion. Christ is as yet seeking their salvation ; he is calling
upon them, inviting and wooing them ; he stands at the
door and knocks. He is using many means with them, is
calling them, saying, Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die ?
The day of his patience is yet continued to them ; and if
Christ is seeking their salvation, surely we ought to seek it.
God is wont now to make men the means of one an
other's salvation ; yea, it is his ordinary way so to do. He
makes the concern and endeavours of his people the means
of bringing home many to Christ. Therefore they ought
to be concerned for and endeavour it. But it wili not be
so in another world : there wicked men will be no longer
capable subjects of mercy. The saints will know, that it
is the will of God the wicked should be miserable to all
eternity. It will therefore cease to be their duty any more
to seek their salvation, or to be concerned about their
misery. On the other hand, it will be their duty to rejoice
in the will and glory of God. It is not our duty to be
sorry that God hath executed just vengeance on the devils,
concerning whom the will of God in their eternal state is
already known to us.
Ans. 3. Rejoicing at the calamities of others now, rests
not on the same grounds as that of the saints in glory.
The evil of rejoicing at other's calamities now, consists in
our envy, or revenge, or some such disposition is gratified
therein ; and not that God is glorified, that the majesty
and justice of God gloriously shine forth.
Ans. 4. The different circumstances of dur nature now,
from what will be hereafter make that a virtue now which

will be no virtue then. For instance, if a man be of a vir
tuous disposition, the circumstances of our nature now
are such, that it will necessarily show itself by natural
affection, and to be without natural affection is a very
vicious disposition; and is so mentioned in Rom. i. 31.
But natural affection is no virtue in the saints in glory.
Their virtue will exercise itself in a higher manner.
Ans. 5. The vengeance inflicted on many ofthe wicked
will be a manifestation of God's love to the saints. One
way whereby God shows his love to the saints, is by de
stroying their enemies. God hath said, " He that toucheth
you, toucheth the apple of mine eye." And it is often
mentioned in Scripture, as an instance of the great love of
God to his people, that his wrath is so awakened, when
they are wronged and injured. Thus Christ hath promised
that God will avenge his own elect, Luke xviii. 7. and
hath said, that " if any man offend one of his little ones,
it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about
his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea."
Matt, xviii. 6.
So the saints in glory will see the great love of God to
them, in the dreadful vengeance which he shall inflict on
those who have injured and persecuted them ; and the view
of this love of God to them will be just cause of their re
joicing. Thus, in the text, heaven and the holy apostles
and prophets are called to rejoice over their enemies, be
cause God hath avenged them of them.

SECT. IV.
The ungodly warned.
I shall apply this subject only in one use, viz. of warn
ing lo ungodly men. And in order to this, I desire such
to consider,
1. How destitute of any comforting consideration your
condition will be, if you perish at last. You will have
none to pity you. Look which way you will, before or
behind, on the right hand or left, look up to heaven, or
look about you in hell, and you will see none to condole
your case, or to exercise any pity towards you, in your
dreadful condition. You must bear these flames, you
must bear that torment and amazement, day and nightj for
ever, and never have the comfort of considering, that there ¦'!':
is so much as one that pities your case; there never will 'Ji
one tear be dropped for you.
(1.) You have now been taught that you will have no
pity from the created inhabitants of heaven. If you shall
look to them, you will see them all rejoicing at the sight
of the glory of God's justice, power, and terrible majesty,
manifested in your torment. You will see them in a bliss
ful and glorious state ; you will see Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God ; you
will see many come from the east, and from the west, and
from the north, and from the south, and sit down in that
glorious kingdom ; and will see them all with one voice,
and with united joy, praising God for glorifying himself in
your destruction. fYou will wail and gnash your teeth
under your own torments, and with envy of their happi
ness ; but they will rejoice and sing: Isa. Ixv. 13, 14.
" Therefore thus saith the Lord, Behold, my servants shall
eat, but ye shall be hungry : behold, my servants shall
drink, but ye shall be thirsty : behold, my servants shall
rejoice, but ye shall be ashamed : behold, my servants shall
sing for joy of heart, but ye shall cry for sorrow of heart,
and shall howl for vexation of spirit."
(2.) God will exercise no pity towards you. If you
might have his pity in any degree, that would be of more
worth to you than thousands of worlds. That would make
your case to be not without comfort and hope. But God
will exercise no pity towards you. He hath often said
concerning wicked men, that his eye shall not spare,
neither will he have pity, (Ezek. v. 11. and vii. 4, 9. and
viii. 18.) He will cast upon you, and not spare; you will
see nothing in God, and receive nothing from him, but
perfect hatred, and the fierceness of his wrath ; nothing
but the mighty falls or outpourings of wrath upon you
every moment ; and no cries will avail to move God to any
pity, or in the least to move him to lighten his hand, or 'as
suage the fierceness and abate the power of vour torments.

Sect. IV.

THE UNGODLY WARNED.

211

Jesus Christ, the Redeemer, will have no pity on you.
Though he had so much love to sinners, as to be willing
to lay down his life for them, and offers you the benefits of
his blood, while you are in this world, and often calls upon
you to accept them ; yet then he will have no pity upon
you. You never will hear any more instructions from
him ; he will utterly refuse to be your instructor : on the
contrary, he will be your judge, to pronounce sentence
against you.
(3.) You will find none that will pity you in hell. The
devils will not pity you, but will be your tormentors, as
roaring lions or hell-hounds to tear you in pieces continu
ally. And other wicked men who shall be there will be
like devils ; they will have no pity on you, but will hate,
and curse, and torment you. And you yourselves will be
like devils ; you will be like devils to yourselves, and will
be your own tormentors.
2. Consider what an aggravation what you have heard
under this doctrine will be to your misery. Consider how it
will be at the day of judgment, when you shall see Christ
coming in the clouds of heaven, when you shall begin to
wail and cry, as knowing that you are those who are to be
condemned ; and perhaps you will be ready to fly to some
of your godly friends ; but you will obtain no help from
them : you will see them unconcerned for you, with joyful
countenances ascending to meet the Lord, and not the iess
joyful for the horror in which they see you. And when
you shall stand before the tribunal at the left hand, among
devils, trembling and astonished, and shall have the dread
ful sentence passed upon you, you will at the same time
see the blessed company of saints and angels at the right
hand rejoicing, and shall hear them shout forth the praises
of God, while they hear your sentence pronounced. You
will then see those godly people, with whom you shall have
been acquainted, and who shall have been your neighbours,
and with whom you now often converse, rejoicing at the
pronunciation and execution of your sentence.
Perhaps there are now some godly people, to whom you
are near and dear, who are tenderly concerned for you, are
ready to pity you under all calamities, and willing to help
you ; and particularly are tenderly concerned for your poor
soul, and have put up many fervent prayers for you. How
will you bear to hear these singing for joy of heart, while
you are crying for sorrow of heart, and howling for vexa
tion of spirit, and even singing the more joyful for the
glorious justice of God which they behold in your eternal
condemnation ?
You that have godly parents, who in this world have
tenderly loved you, who were wont to look upon your wel
fare as their own, and were wont to be grieved for you
when any thing calamitous befell you in this world, and
especially were greatly concerned for the good of your
souls, industriously sought, and earnestly prayed for their
salvation ; how wiil you bear to see them in the kingdom
of God, crowned with glory ? Or how will you bear to
see them receiving the blessed sentence, and going up with
shouts and songs, to enter with Christ into the kingdom
prepared for them from the foundation of the world, while
you are amongst a company of devils, and are turned away
with the most bitter cries, to enter into everlasting burnings,
prepared for the devil and his angels ? How will you bear
to see your parents, who in this life had so dear an affec
tion for you, now without any love to you, approving the
sentence of condemnation, when Christ shaft with indigna
tion bid you depart, wretched, cursed creatures, into eter
nal burnings ? How will you bear to see and hear them
praising the Judge, for his justice exercised in pronouncing
this sentence, and hearing it with holy joy in their coun
tenances, and shouting forth the praises and hallelujahs of
God and Christ on that account?
When they shall see what manifestations of amazement
there will be in you, at the hearing of this dreadful sen
tence, and that every syllable of it pierces you like a thun
derbolt, and sinks you into the lowest depths of horror
and despair ; when they shall behold you with a frighted,
amazed countenance, trembling and astonished, and shall
hear you groan and gnash your teeth ; these things will
not move them at all to pity you, but you will see them
* The author's grandfather and predecessor,
P 2

with a holy joyfulness in their countenances, and with
songs in their mouths. When they shall see you turned
away and beginning to enter into the great furnace, and
shall see how you shrink at it, and hear how you shriek
and cry out; yet they will not be at all grieved for you,
but at the same time you will hear from them renewed
praises and hallelujahs for the true and righteous judg
ments of God, in so dealing with you.
Then you will doubtless remember how those your
glorified parents seemed to be concerned for your salva
tion, while you were here in this world ; you will remem
ber how they were wont to counsel and warn you, and
how little you regarded their counsels, and how they
seemed to be concerned and grieved, that there appeared
no more effect of their endeavours for the good of your
souls. You will then see them praising God for executing
just vengeance on you, for setting so light by their coun
sels and reproofs. However here they loved you, and
were concerned for you, now they will rise up in judgment
against you, and will declare how your sins are aggravated
by the endeavours which they to no purpose used with
you, to bring you to forsake sin and practise virtue, and
to seek and serve God ; but you were obstinate under all,
and would not hearken to them. They will declare how
inexcusable you are upon this account. And when the
Judge shall execute the more terrible wrath upon you on
this account, that you have made no better improvement
of your parents' instructions, they will joyfully praise God
for it. After they shall have seen you lie in hell thousands
of years, and your torment shall yet continue without any
rest, day or night ; they will not begin to pity you then ;
they will praise God, that his justice appears in the eter
nity of your misery.
You that have godly husbands, or wives, or brethren, or
sisters, with whom you have been wont to dwell under
the same roof, and to eat at the same table, consider how
it will be with you, when you shall come to part with
them ; when they shall be taken and you left ; Luke xvii.
34, 35, 36. " I tell you, in that night, there shall be two
men in one bed ; the one shall be taken and the other left.
Two women shall be grinding together ; the one shall be
taken and the other left. Two men shall be in the field ;
the one shall be taken and the other left." However you '
may wail and lament, when you see them parted from
you, they being taken and you left, you will see in them
no signs of sorrow, that you are not taken with ihem ; that
you ascend not with them to meet the Lord in the air, but
are left below to be consumed with the world, which is
reserved unto fire, against the day of the perdition of un
godly men.
Those wicked men, who shall go to hell from under the
labours of pious and faithful ministers, will see those
ministers rejoicing and praising God upon the occasion of
their destruction. Consider, ye that have long lived under
Mr. Stoddard's ministry,* and are yet in a natural con
dition, how dreadful it will be to you, to see him who was
so tenderly concerned for the good of your souls while he
was here, and so earnestly sought your salvation, to see
him rising up in judgment against you, declaring your in-
excusableness, declaring how often he warned you ; how
plainly he set your danger before you, and told you ofthe
opportunity that you had ; how fully he set forth the mi
serable condition in which you were, and the necessity
there was that you should obtain an interest in Christ ;
how movingly and earnestly he exhorted you to get into
a better state, and how regardless you were ; how little
you minded all that he said to you ; how you went on
still in your trespasses, hardened your necks, and made
your hearts as an adamant, and refused to return ! How
dreadful will it be to you to hear him declaring how inex
cusable you are upon these accounts ! How will you be cut
to the heart, when you shall see him approving the sentence
of condemnation, which the Judge shall pronounce against
you, and judging and sentencing you with Christ, as an
assessor in judgment ; for the saints shall judge the world,
(1 Cor. vi. 2.) and when you shall see him rejoicing in
the execution of justice upon you for all your unprofitable
ness under his ministry !

THE END OF THE WICKED CONTEMPLATED.

212
3. Consider what a happy opportunity you have in
your hands now. Now your case is very different from
the case of wicked men in another world, of which you
have now heard ; and particularly in the following respects.
(1.) God makes it the duty of all the godly now to be
concerned for your salvation. As to those who are damned
in hell, the saints in glory are not concerned for their wel
fare, and have no love nor pity towards them ; and if you
perish hereafter, it will be an occasion of joy to all the
godly. But now God makes it the duty of all the godly,
to love you with a sincere good-will and earnest affection.
God doth not excuse men from loving you, for your ill
qualities : though you are wicked and undeserving, yet
God makes it the duty of all sincerely to wish well to
you ; and it is a heinous sin in the sight of God, for any
to hate you. He requires all to be concerned for your
salvation, and by all means to seek it. It is their duty
now to lament your danger, and to pray for mercy to you,
that you may be converted and brought home to Christ.
Now the godly who know you, desire your salvation,
and are ready to seek, and pray for it. If you be now in
distress about the condition of your souls, you are not in
such a forsaken, helpless condition, as those that are
damned ; but you may find many to pray for you, many who
are willing to assist you by their advice and counsels, and
all with a tender concern, and with hearty wishes that
your souls may prosper. Now some of you have godly
friends who are near and dear to you ; you are beloved of
those who have a great interest in heaven, and who have
power with God by their prayers : you have the blessing
of living under the same roof with them. Some of you
have godly parents to pray for you, and to counsel and
instruct you, who you may be sure will do it with sincere
love and concern for you. And there is not only the com
mand of God, God hath not only made it the duty of
others to seek your salvation, but hath given encourage
ment to others to seek it. He gives encouragement that
they may obtain help for you by their prayers, and that
they may be instrumental of your spiritual good. God
reveals it to be his manner, to make our sincere endeavours
a mean of each other's good. How different is the case
with you from what it is with those that are already
damned ! And how happy an opportunity have you in
your hands, if you would but improve it !
(2.) Now you live where there is a certain order of men
appointed to make it the business of their lives to seek
your salvation. Now you have ministers, not to rise up
in judgment against you ; but in Christ's stead, to beseech
you to be reconciled to God; 2 Cor. v. 20. God hath
not only made it the duty of all to wish well to your souls,
and occasionally to endeavour to promote your spiritual
interests, but he hath set apart certain persons, to make it
their whole work, in which they should spend their days
and their strength.
(3.) Christ himself 'is now seeking your salvation. He
seeks it by the fore-mentioned means, by appointing men
to make it their business to seek it ; he seeks it by them ;
they are his instruments, and they beseech you in Christ's
stead, to be reconciled to God. He seeks it, in command
ing your neighbours to seek it. Christ is represented in
Scripture, as wooing the souls of sinners. He uses means
to persuade them to choose and accept of their own sal
vation. He often invites them to come to him that they
may have life, that they may find rest to their souls ; to
come and take of the water of life freely. He stands at
the door and knocks ; and ceases not, though sinners for a
long time refuse him. He bears repeated repulses from

them, and yet mercifully continues knocking, saying,
" Open to me, that I may come in and sup with you, and
you with me." At the doors of many sinners he stands
thus knocking for many years together. Christ is become
a most importunate suitor to sinners, that he may become
their sovereign. He is often setting before them the need
they have of him, the miserable condition in which they
are, and the great provision that is made for the good of
their souls ; and he invites them to accept of this pro
vision, and promises it shall be theirs upon their mere
acceptance. ,
Thus how" earnestly did Christ seek the salvation of Je
rusalem, and he wept over it when they refused ; Luke
xix. 41, 42. " And when he was come near, he beheld the
city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even
thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong
unto thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes.
And Matt, xxiii. 37. " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that
killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto
thee, how often would I have gathered thy children toge
ther, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings,
and ye would not 1" Thus Christ is now seeking your
salvation; such an opportunity have you now in your
hands. Consider therefore how many means Christ is
using with you, to bring you to salvation.
Besides those things which have been now mentioned,
some of you have a degree of the inward strivings and in
fluences of the Spirit, which makes your opportunity much
greater. You have Christ's internal calls and knockings.
All the persons of the Trinity are now seeking your sal
vation. God the Father hath sent his Son, who hath made
way for your salvation, and removed all difficulties, except
those which are with your own heart. And he is waiting
to be gracious to you ; the door of his mercy stands open
to you ; he hath set a fountain open for you to wash in
from sin and uncleanness. Christ is calling, inviting, and
wooing you ; and the Holy Ghost is striving with you by
his internal motions and influences.
4. If you now repent, before it be too late, the saints
and angels in glory will rejoice at your repentance. If you
repent not till it is too late, they will, as you have heard,
rejoice in seeing justice executed upon you. But if you
now repent, they will rejoice at your welfare, that you
who were lost, are found ; that you who were dead, are
alive again. They will rejoice that you are come to so
happy a state already, and that you are in due time to in
herit eternal happiness. Luke xv. 3 — 10. So that if now
you will improve your opportunity, there will be a very
different occasion of joy in heaven concerning you, than
that of which the doctrine speaks ; not a rejoicing on oc
casion of your misery, but on occasion of your unspeakable
blessedness. 5. If you repent before it is too late, you yourselves
shall be of that joyful company. They will be so far
from rejoicing on occasion of your ruin, that you your
selves will be of that glorious company, who will rejoice
in all the works of God, who will have all tears wiped
away , from iheir eyes, to whom there will be no more
death, nor sorrow, nor crying, and from whom sorrow and
sighing shall flee away. You yourselves will be of those
who will rejoice at the glorious display of God's majesty
and justice, in his wrath on his enemies. You will be of
those that shall sing for joy of heart at the day of judg
ment, while others mourn for sorrow of heart, 'and howl
for vexation of spirit ; and you will enter into the joy of
your Lord, and there shall never be any end or abatement
qf your joy !

CHRIST EXALTED

JESUS CHRIST GLORIOUSLY EXALTED ABOVE ALL EVIL IN THE WORK OF
REDEMPTION*

1 Corinthians xv. 25, 26.
For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his
feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed, is death.
The apostle in this chapter particularly opposes some
among the christian Corinthians, who denied the resur
rection of the dead, and infested the church with their
doctrine. There were two sorts of persons in that age,
who were especially great opposers of the doctrine of the
resurrection : one among the Jews, and the other among
the heathen. Among the Jews were the Sadducees, of
whom we read, Acts xxiii. 8. For the Sadducees say,
that there is no resurrection, either angel or spirit ; and
we have the same account in other places. Among the
heathen, that were the chief opposers of this doctrine, were
their philosophers. . The doctrine of the resurrection of
the dead, was not consistent with their philosophy, by the
principles of which, it was impossible that one who was
deprived of the habit of life, should ever receive it again.
And therefore they ridiculed the doctrine when the apostle
preached it among them at Athens.-!/ Probably the church
at Corinth received this corruption from the philosophers,
and not the Sadducees. For Corinth was near to Athens,
the place of tbe chief resort of the philosophers of Greece.
The apostle, in opposing this error, first insists on
Christ's resurrection from the dead ; and next on the re
surrection of all the saints at the end of the world. And,
in the verses next before the text, shows how both are
connected, or that one arises or follows from the other.
And then adds, "then cometh the end, when he shall
have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father ;
when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority,
and power. For he must reign till he hath put all enemies
under his feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is
death." — Observe,
1. Here is one thing wherein appears the glory of that
exaltation and dominion, that Christ has as our redeemer,
viz. that it issues in the subjection of all enemies under
his feet. It is not said all his enemies ; possibly, because
those that shall be put under his feet, are not only his
enemies, but also the enemies of his Father, and of his
people. Their being under his feet, denotes their being
perfectly subdued, and his being gloriously exalted over
them. It shall be thus with respect to God's and his, and
his people's enemies universally, not one excepted ; which
universality is signified here two ways ; all enemies — and
the very last enemy : when there shall be but one enemy
left, that shall also be put under his feet.
2. We may learn what is here meant by enemies, by
the particular instance here given as the last that shall be
destroyed, viz. death. Which shows, that by enemies, is
not meant persons only, that set themselves in opposition
to God and his people, but evils ; whatever is against
God and his people, and opposes Christ or his saints,
whether they be persons or things.

SECT. I.
How evil qf alt kinds has prevailed and highly exalted
itself in the world.
Evil, of all kinds, has risen to an exceeding height in
the world, and highly exalted itself against God, and

* Lecture, August, 1738.

t Acts xvii.

Christ, and the church. — This will appear by the follow
ing particulars.
1 . Satan has highly exalted himself, and greatly prevail
ed. He is vastly superior in his natural capacity and
abilities, to mankind. He was originally one of the high
est rank of creatures ; but proudly exalted himself, in
rebellion, against God in heaven. We are told, that pride
was the condemnation ofthe devil. + He became proud of
his own superior dignity and mighty abilities, and the
glory which his Creator had put upon him ; and probably
thought it too much to submit to the Son of God, and at
tempted to exalt his throne above him. And he prevailed
to draw away vast multitudes of the heavenly hosts, into
an open rebellion against God.
And after he was cast down from heaven, he proudly
exalted himself in this world, and prevailed to do great
things. By his subtle temptations he procured the fell of
our first parents, and so brought about the ruin of their
whole race. He procured their ruin in body and soul,
and the death of both ; and that they should be exposed
to all manner of calamity in this world, and to eternal ruin
hereafter. He so far prevailed, that he drew men off from
the service of their Maker, and set up himself to be the
god of this world ; and in a little time drew the world into
that almost universal corruption, which brought on the
flood of waters, by which it was destroyed. And after
that, he drew off all nations, except the posterity of Jacob,
from the worship of the true God, and darkened all the
world with heathenism ; and held them under this dark
ness for a great many ages ; he himself being worshipped
as God almost all over the world ; the nations of the earth
offered sacrifices to him ; and multitudes offered up their
children. And during that time, he often so far prevailed
against the people of God, that he had almost swallowed
them up. The church was often brought to the very brink
of ruin.
And when Christ himself appeared in the world, how
did he exalt himself against him ! and prevailed so far, as
to influence men to hate and despise him all the days of
his life. And at last he persuaded one of his own dis
ciples to betray him. Accordingly, he was delivered into
the hands of men, to be mocked, buffeted, spit upon, and
treated with the greatest ignominy that unrestrained malice
could devise ; and at last procured that he should be put
to the most cruel and ignominious kind of death. And
since that, he has greatly exalted himself against the
gospel and kingdom of Christ. He has procured that the
church, for the most part, has been the subject of great
persecution ; has often brought it to the brink of utter de
struction; has accomplished great works in setting up
those great kingdoms of antichrist and Mahomet ; and
darkened great part of the world, that was once enlightened
with the gospel of Christ, with worse than heathen dark
ness. And he has infected the christian world with multi
tudes of heresies and false ways of worship, and greatly
promoted atheism and infidelity. Thus highly has the
devil exalted himself against God and Christ, and the
elect ; and so far he prevailed.
2. Guilt is another evil which has come to a great
height in the world. All guilt is an evil of a dreadful
nature : the least degree of it is enough utterly to undo
any creature. It is a thing that reaches unto heaven, and
cries to God, and brings down his wrath. The guilt of
any one sin is so terrible an evil, that it prevails to bind
J 1 Tim. iii. 6

214

CHRIST EXALTED.

over the guilty person to suffer everlasting burnings : and
so is in some respect infinite, in that it obliges to that
punishment which has no end ; and so is infinitely terri
ble. But this kind of evil has risen to a most amazing
height in this world ; where not only some persons are
guilty, but all, in all nations and ages, are naturally guilty
wretches. And they who live to act any time in the
world, are not only guilty of one sin, but of thousands,
and thousands of thousands. What multiplied and what
aggravated sins are some men guilty of! What guilt lies
on some particular persons ! How much more on some
particular populous cities ! How much more still on this
wicked world ! How much does the guilt of the world
transcend all account, all expression, all powers of num
bers or measures ! And above all, how vast is the guilt
of the world, in all ages, from the beginning to the end of
it ! To what a pitch has guilt risen ! The world being,
as it were, on every side, loaded with it, as with moun
tains heaped on mountains, above the clonds and stars of
heaven. And guilt, when it was imputed to Christ, greatly pre
vailed against him — though in himself innocent, and the
eternal Son of God — even so as to hold him prisoner of
justice for a while ; and to open the flood-gates of God's
wrath upon him, and bring his waves and billows over him.
3. Corruption and wickedness of heart, is another thing
that has risen to an exceeding height in the world. Sin
has so far prevailed, that it has become universal : all,
mere men, are become sinful and corrupt creatures. Let
us attend to St Paul's description of the world. * " Jews
and Gentiles are all under sin. As is written, There is
none righteous, no not one ; there is none that understand
eth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all
gone out of the way, they are together become unprofit
able, there is none that doeth good, no not one." And
not only is every one corrupt, but they are all over
corrupt, in every power, faculty, and principle ; every
part is depraved. Which is here represented by the
several parts of the body being corrupt, as the throat,
the tongue, the lips, the mouth, the feet. " Their throat
is an open sepulchre, with their tongues they have
used deceit, the .poison of asps is under their lips; whose
mouth is full of cursing and bitterness : their feet are swift
to shed blood." And not only is every part corrupt, but
exceeding corrupt ; being possessed with dreadful princi
ples of corruption, horribly evil dispositions and principles
of sin, that may be represented by the poison of asps :
which makes men like vipers and devils : principles of all
uncleanness, pride, deceit, injustice, enmity, malice, blas
phemy, murder. Here their throats are compared to an
open sepulchre, and their mouth is said to be full of cursing
and bitterness, and destruction and misery are said to be
in their ways.
And there are those principles of sin not only that are
very bad, but every kind ; here is no sort of wickedness,
but there is a seed of it in men. And these seeds and
principles have not only a being in men's hearts, but are
there in great strength : they have the absolute possession
and dominion over men, so that they are sold under sin.
Yea, wicked principles, and those only, are in the heart.
The imagination qf the thoughts qf their heart is evil only.
There are bad principles only, and no good ones. " There
is no fear of God before their eyes." Thus the hearts of
all men are deceitful and desperately wicked.^
And if we look, not only at the natural corruption of the
heart, but at the contracted habits of sin, by wicked
education and customs, how full shall we find the world of
wickedness, in this respect ! How have men, by bad
customs in sinning, broken down all restraints upon natural
corruption, and as it were abandoned themselves to wicked
ness ! So far has corruption and wickedness prevailed in
the world, and so high has it risen, that it is become a
great and universal deluge, that overtops all things, and
prevails with that strength, that it is like the raging waves
ofthe tempestuous ocean ; which are ready to bear down
all before them.
4. Many of the devil's instruments have greatly prevailed,
and have been exalted to an exceeding height in the
« Rom. iii. 9-18. t Jer. xvii. 9.
1 The Babylonian, Persian, Grecian, and Roman monarchies

world. It has been so in almost all ages of the world.
Many of the devil's instruments have prospered and pre
vailed, till they have got to the head of great kingdoms
and empires, with vast riches and mighty power.
Those four great heathen monarchies that rose in the
world before Christ,! are spoken of in Scripture as king
doms set up in opposition to the kingdom of Christ. So
they are represented in the interpretation of Nebuchad
nezzar's dream. § These monarchies were exceeding
powerful. The two last ruled over the greater part of the
then known world. And the last especially, viz. the
Roman empire, was exceeding mighty : so that it is said
to be diverse from all kingdoms ; and that it should devour
the whole earth, and tread it down, and break it in pieces.M
It is represented by the fourth beast, which was dreadful
and terrible; and strong exceedingly; and had great iron
teeth, that devoured and brake in pieces, and stamped the
residue with his feet.1T These four kingdoms all perse
cuted the church of God in their turns, especially the last.
One of the governors of this monarchy put Christ to death.
And afterwards one emperor after another, made dreadful
havoc of the church ; making a business of it, with the
force of all the empire, to torment and destroy the Christi
ans ; endeavouring, if possible, to root out the christian
name from under heaven.
And in these latter ages, how have those two great in
struments of the devil, viz. antichrist and Mahomet, pre
vailed, and to what a pitch of advancement have they
arrived; ruling over vast empires, with mighty wealth,
pride and power : so that the earth has been, as it were,
subdued by them. Antichrist has set up himself as the
vicar of Christ; and has for many ages usurped the power
of God, "sitting in the temple of God, and showing him
self that he is God ; and exalting himself above all that is
called God, or that is worshipped." And how dreadfully
has he ravaged the church of God, being drunk with the
blood of the saints, and the martyrs of Jesus. And has
often, as it were, deluged the world in christian blood, shed
with the utmost cruelty that human wit and malice could
invent. — And at this day, many other instruments of the
devil, many heretics, atheists, and other infidels, are exert
ing themselves against Christ and his church, with great
pride and contempt.
5. Affliction and misery have also prevailed and risen to
an unspeakable height in the world. The spiritual misery
which the elect are naturally in, is great. They are miser
able captives of sin and Satan, and under obligations to
suffer eternal burnings. This misery all mankind are
naturally in. And spiritual troubles and sorrows have
often risen to a great height in the elect. The troubles of
a wounded spirit and guilty conscience, have been felt with
intolerable and insupportable weight. "A wounded spirit
who can bear ?"** And the darkness that has risen to God's
people after conversion, through the temptations and buf-
fetings of the devil, and the hidings of God's face, and
manifestations of his anger, have been very terrible. And
temporal afflictions have often risen exceeding high. The
church of God has, for the most part, all along, been a seat
of great affliction and tribulation.
But the height to which the evil of affliction has risen,
nowhere appears so much, as in the afflictions that Christ
suffered. The evil of affliction and sorrow exalted itself so
high, as to seize the Son of God himself, and to cause him
to be all in a bloody sweat, and to make his soul exceeding
sorrowful, even unto death. It caused him to cry out,
"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Af
fliction never prevailed to such a degree in this world, as
in Christ, whose soul was, as it were, overwhelmed in an
ocean of it.
6. Death is an evil which has greatly prevailed, and
made dreadful havoc in this world. How does it waste
and devour mankind, one age after another ; sparing none,
high or low, rich or poor, good or bad 1 Wild beasts have
destroyed many ; many cruel princes have taken away the
lives of thousands, and laid waste whole countries : but
death devours all ; none are suffered to escape. And the
bodies of the saints as well as others, fall a prey to this .
great devourer. Yea, so high did this enemy rise, that he

§ Dan. ii. 35. 3l
% Dan. vii. 7.

II Dan. vii. 23.
** Prov. xviii. 14.

IN THE WORK OF REDEMPTION.

215

took hold on Christ himself, and swallowed him among
the rest. He became the prey of this great, insatiable
monster. By his means, was his bodily frame destroyed,
and laid dead in the dark and silent grave. And death
still goes on destroying thousands every day. And there
fore the grave is one of those things which Agur says, never
has enough.* — So have evils of every kind prevailed;
and to such a degree have they exalted themselves in the
world. SECT. II.
How Jesus Christ, in the work of redemption, appears
gloriously above all these evils.
It was not the will of the infinitely wise and holy Go
vernor of the world, that things should remain in this con
fusion; this reign of evil, which had prevailed and exalted
itself to such a height. But he had a design of subduing
it ; and delivering an elect part of the world from it, and
exalting them to the possession of the greatest good, and
to reign in the highest glory, out of a state of subjection to
all these evils. And he chose his Son as the person most
fit for an undertaking that was infinitely too great for any
mere creature : and he has undertaken the work of our
redemption. And though these evils are so many and so
great, and have prevailed to such a degree, and have risen
to such a height, and have been, as it were, all combined
together ; yet wherein they have exalted themselves, Christ,
in the work of redemption, appears above them. He hath
gloriously prevailed against them all, and brings them
under his feet ; and rides forth, in the chariots of salva
tion, over their heads ; or leading them in triumph at his
chariot wheels. He appears in this work infinitely higher
and mightier than they, and sufficient to carry his people
above them, and utterly to destroy them all .
1. Christ appears gloriously above all evil in what he
did to procure redemption for us in his state ot humiliation,
by the righteousness he wrought out, and the atonement
he made for sin. The evils mentioned, never seemed so
much to prevail against him as in his sufferings : but in
them, the foundation was laid for their overthrow. In
them he appeared above Satan. Though Satan never ex
alted himself so high, as he did in procuring these suffer
ings of Christ ; yet, then, Christ laid the foundation for
the utter overthrow of his kingdom. He slew Satan, as it
were, with his own weapon, the spiritual David cut off' this
Goliath's head with his own sword ; and he triumphed
over him in his cross. " Having spoiled principalities and
powers, he made a show of them openly, triumphing over
them in it :" -f i. e. in his cross, mentioned in the preceding
words. Then the wisdom of Christ appeared gloriously
above the subtlety of Satan. Satan, that old serpent, used
a great deal of subtlety to procure Christ's death ; and
doubtless, when he had accomplished it, thought he had
obtained a complete victory ; being then ignorant of the
contrivance of our redemption. But so did the wisdom of
Christ order things, that Satan's subtlety and malice,
should be made the very means of undermining the foun
dations of his kingdom; and so he wisely led him into the
pit that he had digged.
In this also Christ appeared gloriously above the guilt of
men. For he offered a sacrifice, that was sufficient to do
away all the guilt of the whole world. Though the guilt
of man was like the great mountains, whose heads are
lifted up to the heavens ; yet his dying love, and his merits,
appeared as a mighty deluge that overflowed the highest
mountains ; or like a boundless ocean that swallows them
up; or like an immense fountain of light, that with the
fulness and redundance of its brightness, swallows up
men's greatest sins, as little motes are swallowed up and
hidden in the disk ofthe sun.
In this Christ appeared above all the corruption of man,
in that hereby he purchased holiness for the chief of sin
ners. And Christ in undergoing such extreme affliction,
got the victory over all misery ; and laid a foundation for
its being utterly abolished, with respect to his elect. In
dying he became the plague and* destruction of death.
When death slew him, it slew itself: for Christ, through

Prov. xxx. 16.

t Coloss. ii 15

t Heb. ii. 1-1.

death, destroyed him that had the power of death, even the
devil.J By this he laid the foundation of the glorious re
surrection of all his people to an immortal life.
2. Christ appears gloriously exalted above all evil, in
his resurrection and ascension into heaven. When Christ
rose from the dead, then it appeared that he was above
death, which, though it had taken him captive, could not
hold him.
Then he appeared above the devil. Then this Leviathan
that had swallowed him, was forced to vomit him up
again ; as the Philistines that had taken captive the ark,
were forced to return it ; Dagon being fallen before it, with
his head and hands broken off, and only the stumps left. —
Then he appeared above our guilt : for he was justified in
his resurrection .§ In his resurrection he appeared above
all affliction. For though he had been subject to much
affliction, and overwhelmed in it ; he then emerged out of
it, as having gotten the victory, never to conflict with any
more sorrow.
When he ascended up into heaven, he rose far above
the reach of the devil and all his instruments, who had be
fore had him in their hands. And now has he sat down
at the right hand of God, as being made head over all
things to the church, in order to a complete and perfect
victory over sin, Satan, death, and all his enemies. It was
then said to him, " Sit thou on my right hand, until I make
thine enemies thy footstool."|| He entered into a state of
glory, wherein he is exalted far above all these evils, as the
forerunner of his people ; and to make intercession for them,
till they also are brought to be with him, in like manner
exalted above all evil.
3. Christ appears gloriously above all evil, in his work
in the hearts of the elect, in their conversion and sanctifi
cation. This is what the application of redemption, so far
as it is applied in this world, consists in ; which is done by
the Holy Ghost as the Spirit of Christ. In this work of
Christ in the hearts of his elect, he appears glorious above
Satan. For the strong man armed is overcome, and all his
armour, wherein he trusted, is taken from him, and his
spoil divided. In this work, the lamb is, by the spiritual
David, taken out of the mouth of the lion and bear : the
poor captive is delivered from his mighty and cruel ene
mies. In this Christ appears gloriously above the corruption
and wickedness of the heart ; above its natural darkness in
dispelling it, and letting in light ; and above its enmity and
opposition, by prevailing over it, drawing it powerfully and
irresistibly to himself, and turning a heart of stone into a
heart of flesh : above the obstinacy and perverseness of the
will, by making them willing in the day of his power. In
this he appears above all their lusts. For all sin is morti
fied in this work, and the soul is delivered from the power
and dominion of it. — In this work the grace of Christ glo
riously triumphs over men's guilt. He comes over the
mountains of their sins, and visits them with his salvation.
And God is wont often in this work, either in the be
ginning or progress of it, to give his people those spiritual
comforts, in which he gloriously appears to be above all
affliction and sorrow : and often gives them to triumph over
the devil, and his powerful and cruel instruments.' Many
saints, by the influences of Christ's Spirit on their hearts,
have rejoiced and triumphed, when suffering the greatest
torments and cruelties of their persecutors. And in this
work Christ sometimes gloriously appears above death, in
carrying his people far above the fears of it, and making
them to say, " O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, yvhere
is thy victory ?"
4. Christ gloriously appears above all these foremention
ed evils, in his glorifying the souls of departed saints in
heaven. In this he gives a glorious victory over death.
Death by it is turned from an enemy into a servant ; and
their death, by the glorious change that passes in the state
of their souls, is become a resurrection, rather than a death.
Now Christ exalts the soul to a state of glory, wherein it
is perfectly delivered from Satan and all his temptations,
and all his instruments ; and from all remains of sin and
corruption, and from all affliction : " They shall hunger no
more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light

§ Rom. iv. .4. 25. 1 Tim. iii. 16.

Psal. ex. 1.

216

CHRIST EXALTED

on them, nor any heat — and God shall wipe away all tears
from their eyes."*
5. Christ appears gloriously above these evils, in what
he doth in his providence in the world, as head and re
deemer of his church. He appears gloriously above Satan
and all his instruments in upholding his church, even from
its first establishment, through all the powerful attempts
that have been made against it by earth and hell : hereby
fulfilling his promise, " That the gates of hell should never
prevail against it."-)"
Christ gloriously triumphed over these his enemies, in
a remarkable success of his gospel, soon after his ascen
sion, when many thousands in Jerusalem, and all parts of
the world, were so soon turned from darkness unto light,
and from the power of Satan unto God : and in causing his
word to go on and prosper, and his church to increase and
prevail against all the opposition of the heathen world,
when they united all their power to put a stop to it, and
root it out. So that, in spite of all that the philosophers,
and wise men, and emperors and princes could do, the
gospel in a little time overthrew Satan's old heathenish
kingdom in the whole Roman empire, which was then the
main part of the world ; and so brought about the greatest
and most glorious revolution. Instead of one single nation,
now the greater part of the nations of the known world
were become God's people.
And Christ's exaltation above all evil in his government
of the world, in his providence, as the Redeemer of his
people, has since gloriously appeared in reviving his church
by the reformation from popery, after it had for many ages
lain in a great measure hid, and dwelt in a wilderness, un
der antichristian persecution.
And he will yet far more gloriously triumph over Satan
and all his instruments, in all the mighty kingdoms that
have been set up in opposition to the kingdom of Christ,
at the time of the fall of antichrist, and ihe beginning of
those glorious times so much spoken of in Scripture pro
phecy. " Then shall the stone that has been cut out without
hands smite all these kingdoms, and break them to pieces ;
and they shall become like the chaff of the summer thresh
ing-floors, and the wind shall carry them away, that no
place should be found for them : and the stone which
smote them shall become a great mountain, and fill the
whole earth."! " Then shall the God of heaven set up a
kingdom, which shall never be destroyed ; and it shall
break in pieces, and consume all these kingdoms, and it
shall stand for ever."§ " And then the kingdoms of this
world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his
Christ, and he shall reign for ever and ever."|| Though
great and mighty empires have been set up one after
another in the world, in opposition to the kingdom of
Christ, during the succession of so many ages ; yet,
Christ's kingdom shall be the last and the universal king
dom, which he has given him, as the heir of the world.
Whatever great works Satan has wrought ; the final issue
and event of all, in the winding up of things in the last
ages of the world, shall be the glorious kingdom of Christ
through the world ; a kingdom of righteousness and holi
ness, of love and peace, established every where. Agree
able to the ancient prediction, " I saw in the night visions,
and behold, one like the Son of man, came with the clouds
of heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, and they
brought him near before him. And there was given him
dominion and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, na
tions, and languages should serve him : his dominion is an
everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his
kingdom that which shall not be destroyed. And the king
dom and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom un
der the whole heaven, shall be given to the people of the
saints of the Most High, whose kingdom is an everlasting
kingdom, and all dominions shall serve and obey him."1f
Then shall Christ appeal' gloriously exalted indeed above
all evil : and then shall all the saints in earth and heaven
gloriously triumph in him, and sing, " Hallelujah, salva
tion, and glory, and honour, and power unto the Lord our
God ; for true and righteous are his judgments ; for he
hath judged the great whore, which did corrupt the earth
with her fornication, and hath avenged the blood of his ser-

? Rev. vii. 16, 27.
§ Ver. .1.

t Matt. xvi. 18.
|| Rev. xi. 15.

J Dan. ii. 34, 35.
1 Dan. vii. 13, 14,27.

vants at her hand. Hallelujah : for the Lord God omni
potent reigneth."**
6. Christ will appear gloriously above all evil in the
consummation of the redemption of his elect church at the
end of the world. Then will be completed the whole
work of redemption with respect to all that Christ died for,
both in its impetration and application; and not till then.
And then will Christ's exaltation above all evil be most
perfectly and fully manifest. Then shall the conquest
and triumph be completed with respect to all of them.
Then shall all the devils, and all their instruments, be
brought before Christ, to be judged and condemned.
And then shall be completed their destruction in their
consummate and everlasting misery ; when they shall be
all cast into the lake of fire, no more to range, and usurp
dominion in the world ; or have liberty to make opposi
tion against God and Christ : they shall for ever be shut
up, thenceforward only to suffer. Then shall death be
totally destroyed. All the saints shall be delivered ever
lastingly from it. Even their bodies shall be taken from
the power of death, by a glorious resurrection.
Then shall all guilt, and all sin and corruption, and all
affliction, all signs and tears, be utterly and eternally
abolished, concerning every one of the elect ; they being
all brought to one complete body, to their consummate
and immutable glory. And all this as the fruit of Christ's
blood, and as an accomplishment of his redemption.
Then all that evil, which has so prevailed, and so ex
alted itself, and usurped and raged, and reigned, shall he
perfectly and for ever thrust down and destroyed, with
respect to all the elect ; and all will be exalted to a state
wherein they will be for ever immensely above all these
things. " And there shall be no more death, neither sor
row nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain : for
the former things are passed away ."ft

SECT. III.
The subject improved and applied.
1 . In this we may see how the glory of the Lord Jesus
Christ appears in the work of redemption. It was because
the Father had from eternity a design of exceedingly glori
fying his Son, that he appointed him to be the person that
should thus triumph over the evil in the world. The work
of redemption is the most glorious of all God's works that
are made known to us. The glory of God most remark
ably shines forth in it. And this is one thing wherein its
glory eminently appears, that therein Christ appears so
gloriously above Satan and all his instruments; above all
guilt, all corruption, all affliction, above death, and above
all evil. And more especially, because evil hath so ex
alted itself in the world, as we have heard ; and exalted
itself against Christ in particular.
Satan has ever had a peculiar enmity against the Son
of God. Probably his first rebellion, which was his con
demnation, was his proudly taking it in disdain, when
God declared the decree in heaven, that his Son in man's
nature, should be the King of heaven ; and that all the
angels should worship him. However that was, yet it is
certain that his strife has ever been especially against the
Son of God. The enmity has always been between the
seed of the woman, and the serpent. And therefore that
war which the devil maintains against God, is represented
by the devil and his angels fighting against Michael and
his angels-IJ: This Michael is Chnst.f§
God had appointed his Son to be the hen- of the
world ; but the devil has contested this matter with him,
and has strove to set himself up as God ofthe world. And
how exceedingly has the devil exalted himself against
Christ ! How did he oppose him as he dwelt among the
Jews, in his tabernacle and temple! And how did he
oppose him when on earth ! And how has he opposed
him since his ascension ! What great and mighty works
has Satan brought to pass in the world ! now many
Babels has he built up to heaven, in his opposition to the
Son of God ! How exceeding proud and naughty has he
appeared in his opposition ! How have he and his instru-

•« Rev. xix. 1, 2, (
tt Rev. xii. 7.

tt Rev. xxi. 4.
; Dan. x. 21. and xii. 1.

IN THE WORK OF REDEMPTION.

217

ments, and sin, affliction, and death, of which he is the
father, raged against Christ ? But yet Christ, in the work
of redemption, appears infinitely above them all. In this
work he triumphs over them, however they have dealt
proudly; and they all appear under his feet. In this the
glory of the Son of God, in the work of redemption, re
markably appears.
The beauty of good appears with the greatest advan
tage, when compared with its contrary evil. And the glory
of that which is excellent, then especially shows itself,
when it triumphs over its contrary, and appears vastly
above it, in its greatest height. The glory of Christ, in
this glorious exaltation over so great evil, that so ex
alted itself against him, the more remarkably appears, in
that he is thus exalted out of so low a state. Though he
appeared in the world as a little child ; yet how does he
triumph over the most gigantic enemies of God and men !
He who was " a man of sorrows, and acquainted with
grief," is a man of war, and triumphed over his enemies
in all their power. He who was meek and lowly of heart,
has triumphed over those proud foes. And he is exalted
over them all, in that which appears most despicable, even
his cross.
2. Here is matter of exceeding great encouragement for
all sinful miserable creatures in the world of mankind, to
come to Christ. For let them be as sinful as they will, and
ever so miserable ; Christ, in the work of redemption, is
gloriously exalted above all their sin and misery.
How high soever their guilt has risen, though moun
tains have been heaping on mountains all the days of their
lives, till the pile appears towering up to heaven, and
above the very stars ; yet Christ in the work of redemption
appears gloriously exalted above all this height. — Though
they are overwhelmed in a mighty deluge of woe and
misery ; a deluge that is not only above their heads, but
above the heads of the highest mountains ; and they do
not see how it is possible that they should escape ; yet
they have no reason to be discouraged from looking to
Christ for help ; who in the work of redemption, appears
gloriously above the deluge of evil. Though they see
dreadful corruption in theirhearts ; though their lusts ap

pear like giants, or like the raging waves of the sea ; yet
they need not despair of help ; but may look to Christ,
who appears in the work of redemption, gloriously above
all this corruption.
If they apprehend themselves to be miserable captives
of Satan ; and find him too strong an adversary for them ;
and the devil is often tempting and buffeting them, and
triumphing over them with great cruelty : if it seems to
them that the devil has swallowed them up, and has got
full possession of them, as the whale had of Jonah ; yet
there is encouragement for them to look again, as Jonah
did, towards God's holy temple, and to trust in Christ for
deliverance from Satan, who appears so gloriously exalted
above him in the work of redemption.
If they are ready to sink with darkness and sorrows,
distress of conscience, or those frowns of God upon them ;
so that God's waves and billows seem to pass over them ;
yet they have encouragement enough to look to Christ for
deliverance. These waves and billows have before exalted
themselves against Christ; and he appeared to be infi
nitely above them. — And if they are afraid of death ; if it
looks exceeding terrible, as an enemy that would swallow
them up ; yet let them look to Christ who has appeared
so gloriously above death ; and their fears will turn into
joy and triumph.
3. What cause have they who have an interest in Christ,
to glory in their Redeemer ! They are often beset with
many evils, and many mighty enemies surround them on
every side, with open mouths ready to devour them : but
they need not fear any of them. They may glory in Christ,
the rock of their salvation, who appears so gloriously above
them all. They may triumph over Satan, over this evil
world, over guilt, and over death. For as their Redeemer
is mighty, and is so exalted above all evil ; so shall they
also be exalted in him. They are now, in a sense, so ex
alted ; for nothing can hurt them. Christ carries them, as
on eagle's wings, high out of the reach of all evils, so that
they cannot come near them, to do them any real harm.
And, in a little time, they shall be carried so out of their
reach, that they shall not be able even to molest them any
more for ever.

SELF-FLATTERIES

THE VAIN SELF-FLATTERIES OF THE SINNER.*

Ps. xxxvi. 2.
For heflattereth himself in his own eyes, until his iniquity
be found to be hateful.
In the foregoing verse, David says, " The transgression
of the wicked saith within my heart, that there is no fear
of God before his eyes :" that is, when he saw that the
wicked went on in sin, in an allowed way of wickedness,
it convinced him, that they were not afraid of those terrible
judgments, and of that wrath, with which God hath threat
ened sinners. If the sinner were afraid of these, he could
never go on so securely in sin, as he doth.
It was a strange thing that men, who enjoyed such light
as they did in the land of Israel, who read and heard
those many awful threatenings which were written in the
book of the law, should not be afraid to go on in sin.
But saith the psalmist, They flatter themselves in their own
eyes : they have something or other which they make a
foundation of encouragement, whereby they persuade
themselves that they shall escape those judgments ; and
that makes them put far away the evil day.

In this manner the sinner proceeds, until his iniquity be
found to be hateful ; that is, until he finds by experience
that it is a more dreadful thing to sin against God, and
break his holy commands, than he imagined. He thinks
sin to be sweet, and hides it as a sweet morsel under his
tongue : he loves it, and flatters himself in it, till at length
he finds by experience, that it is bitter as gall and worm
wood. Though he thinks the commission of sin to be
lovely, yet he will find the fruit of it to be hateful, and,
what he cannot endure. Prov. xxiii. 32. " At last it will
bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder."
Here observe, the subject spoken of is the wicked man,
of whom the psalmist had been speaking in the foregoing
verse. — His action in flattering himself in his own eyes ;
i. e. he makes himself and his case to appear to himself,
or in his own eyes, better than it is.
How long he continues so to do, until his iniquity be
found to be hateful. Which may be taken for, either, his
sin itself, as the wicked will see how odious sin is to God,
when he shall feel the effects of his hatred, and how hate
ful to angels and saints ; or, rather, the cause is here put
for the effect, tlie tree for its fruit, and he will find his

218

THE VAIN SELF-FLATTERIES OF SINNERS.

iniquity to be hateful, as he will find the hatefulness and
feel the terribleness of the fruit of his iniquity.— Hence it
appeai-s, that Wicked men generally flatter themselves with
hopes of escaping punishment, till it actually comes upon
them. , ,
There are but few sinners who despair, who give up the
cause, and conclude with themselves, that they shall go
to hell ; yet there are but few who do not go to hell. It
is to be feared that many go to hell every day out of this
country ; yet very few of them suffer themselves to believe,
that they are in any great danger of that punishment.
They go on sinning and thus travelling in the direct road
to the pit ; yet they persuade themselves that they shall
never fall into it.
SECT. I.
Sinners flatter themselves with the hope qf impunity.
We are so taught in the word of God. Deut. xxix. 18,
19. " Lest there should be among you man, or woman, or
family, or tribe, whose heart turneth away this day from
the Lord our God. Lest there should be among you a
root that beareth gall and wormwood, and it come to pass
when he heareth the words of this curse, that he bless him
self in his heart, saying, I shall have peace, though I walk
in the imagination of mine heart, to add drunkenness to
thirst." Where it is supposed, that they whose hearts
turn away from God, and are roots that bear gall and
wormwood, generally bless themselves in their hearts,
saying, We shall have peace.
See also Ps. xlix. 17, 18. " When he dieth, he shall
carry nothing away : his glory shall not descend after him,
though whilst he lived he blessed his soul." And Ps. 1.
21. " These things thou hast done, and I kept silence:
thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thy
self: but I will reprove thee, and set them in order before
thine eyes."
It is very evident, that sinners flatter themselves that
they shall escape punishment, otherwise they would be in
dreadful and continual distress ; they could never live so
cheerfully as they now do. Their lives would be filled
with sorrow and mourning, and they would be in continual
uneasiness and distress ; as much as those that are exer
cised with some violent pain of body. But it is apparent
that men are careless and secure ; they are not much con
cerned about future punishment, and they cheerfully
pursue their business and recreations. Therefore they
undoubtedly flatter themselves, that they shall not be
eternally miserable in hell, as they are threatened in the
word of God.
It is evident that they flatter themselves with hopes that
they shall escape punishment, otherwise they would cer
tainly be restrained, at least from many of those sins in
which they now live : they would not proceed in wilful
courses of sin. The transgression of the wicked con
vinced the psalmist, and is enough to convince every one,
that there is no fear of God before his eyes, and that he
flatters himself in his own eyes. It would be impossible
for men allowedly to do those very things, which they know
are threatened with everlasting destruction, if they did not
some way encourage themselves they should nevertheless
escape that destruction. SECT. II.
Some qf the various ways wherein sinners flatter themselves
in their own eyes.
1. Some flatter themselves with a secret hope, that there
is no such thing as another world. They hear a great deal
of preaching, and a great deal of talk about hell, and the
eternal judgment ; but those things do not seem to them
to be real. They never saw hell, nor the devils and damn
ed spirits ; and therefore are ready to say with themselves,
How do I know that there is any such thing as another
world ? When the beasts die, there is an end of them, and
how do I know but that it will be so with me ? Perhaps
all these things are nothing but the inventions of men,
nothing but cunningly-devised fables.
Such thoughts are apt to rise in the minds of sinners,
and the devil sets in to enforce them. Such thoughts are

an ease to them ; therefore they wish they were true, and
that makes them the more ready to think that they are so.
So that they are hardened in the way of sin, by infidelity and
atheistical thoughts. Psal. xiv. 1. "The fool hath said
in his heart, There is no God." Psal. xciv. 6, 7. "They
slay the widow and the stranger, and murder the fatherless.
Yet they say, The Lord shall not see : neither shall the
God of Jacob regard it."
2. Some flatter themselves that death is a great way off,
and that they shall hereafter have much opportunity to
seek salvation ; and they think if they earnestly seek it,
though it be a great while hence, they shall obtain. Al
though they see no reason to conclude that they shall live
long, and perhaps they do not positively conclude that
they shall ; yet it doth not come into their minds that
their lives are really uncertain, and that it is doubtful
whether they will live another year. Such a thought as
this doth not take any hold of them. And although they
do not absolutely determine that they shall live to old age
or to middle age, yet they secretly flatter themselves with
such an imagination. They are disposed to believe so, they
act upon it, and run the venture.
Men believe that things will be as they choose to have
them, without reason, and sometimes without the appear
ance of reason, as is most apparent in this case. Psal.
xlix. 11. "Their inward thought is, that their houses
shall continue for ever, and their dwelling-places to all
generations ; they call their lands after their own names."
— The prepossession and desire of men to have it so, is
the principal thing that makes them so believe. However,
there are several other things which they use as arguments
to flatter themselves. Perhaps they think, that since they
are at present in health, or in youth, or that since they are
useful men, do a great deal of good, and both themselves
and others pray for the continuance of their lives ; they
are not likely to be removed by death very soon. — If they
live many years in the world, they think it very probable
that they shall be converted before they die ; as they ex
pect hereafter to have much more convenient opportunities
to become converted, than they have now. And by some
means or other they think they shall get through their work
before they arrive at old age.
3. Some flatter themselves that they lead moral and or
derly lives, and therefore think that they shall not be
damned. They think with themselves that they live not
in any vice, that they take care to wrong no man, are just
and honest dealers ; that they are not addicted to hard
drinking, or to uncleanness, or to bad language ; that they
keep the sabbath strictly, are constant attendants on the
public worship, and maintain the worship of God in their
families. Therefore they hope that God will not cast
them into hell. They see not why God should be so
angry with them as that would imply, seeing they are
so orderly and regular in their walk ! they see not that
they have done enough to anger him to that degree. And
if they have angered him, they imagine they have also done
a great deal to pacify him.
If they be not as yet converted, and it be necessary that
they should experience any other conversion in order to
their salvation, they hope that their orderly and strict lives
will move God to give them converting grace. They
hope that surely God will not see those that live as they
do go to hell. Thus they flatter themselves, as those
(Luke xviii. 9.) " that trusted in themselves that they
were righteous."
4. Some make the advantages under which they live an
occasion of self-flattery. They flatter themselves, that
they live in a place where the gospel is powerfully preach
ed, and among a religious people, where many have been
converted ; and they think it will be much easier for them
to be saved on that account. Thus they abuse the grace
of God to their destruction; they do that which the
Scriptures call despising the riches qf God's goodness;
Rom. ii. 4. " Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness,
and forbearance, and long-suffering ; not knowing that the
goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?"
Some flatter themselves, that they are born of godly
parents, who are dear to God, who have often and ear
nestly prayed for them, and hope that their prayers will be
heard ; and that encourages them to go on in the way of

Sect. II.

VARIOUS WAYS OF SELF-FLATTERY.

219

neglecting their souls. The Jews had great dependence
upon this, that they were the children of Abraham ; John
viii. 33. they make their boast, " We be Abraham's seed;"
and in verse 39. " Abraham is our father."
5. Some flatter themselves with their own intentions.
They intend to give themselves liberty for a while longer,
and then to reform. Though now they neglect their souls,
and are going on in sin ; yet they intend ere long to bestir
themselves, to leave off their sins, and to set themselves
to seek God. They hear that there is great encourage
ment for those who earnestly seek God, that they shall
find him. So they intend to do ; they propose to seek
with a great deal of earnestness. They are told, that there
are many who seek to enter the kingdom of heaven, who
shall not be able ; but they intend, not only to seek, but
to strive. However, for the present they allow themselves
in their ease, sloth, and pleasure, minding only earthly
things. Or if they should be seized with some mortal distem
per, and should draw near to the grave, before the time
which they lay out in their minds for reformation, they
think how earnestly they would pray and cry to God for
mercy ; and as they hear God is a merciful God, who
taketh no delight in the death of sinners, they hence flatter
themselves that they shall move God to have pity on them.
There are but few sinners, knowing themselves to be
such, who have not intentions of future repentance and
reformation ; but few who do not flatter themselves, that
they shall in good earnest seek God some time or other.
Hell is full ot good intenders, who never proved to be true
performers : Acts xxiv. 25. " Go thy way for this time ;
when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee."
6. There are some who flatter themselves, that they do,
and have done, a great deal for their salvation, and there
fore hope they shall obtain ; when indeed they neither do
what they ought to do, nor what they might do even in
their present state of unregeneracy ; nor are they in any
likely way to be converted. They think they are striving,
when they actually neglect many moral and some insti
tuted duties ; nor do they exert themselves as if it were
for their lives ; they are not violent for the kingdom of
heaven. There are doubtless many such ; many are concerned,
and are seeking, and do many things, and think that they
are in a very fair way to obtain the kingdom of God ; yet
there is great danger that they will prove at last to be
some of the foolish virgins, and be found without oil in
-their vessels.
7. Some hope by their strivings to obtain salvation qf
themselves. They have a secret imagination, that they
shall, by degrees, work in themselves sorrow and repent
ance of sin, and love towards God and Jesus Christ.
Their striving is not so much an earnest seeking to God,
as a striving to do themselves that which is the work of
God. Many who are now seeking have this imagination;
they labour, read, pray, hear sermons, and go to private
meetings, with the view of making themselves holy, and of
working in themselves holy affections.
Many, who only project and design to turn to God
hereafter, are apt to think that it is an easy thing to be
converted ; that it is a thing which will be in their own
power at any time, when they shall earnestly set them
selves to it.
8. Some sinners flatter themselves, that they are already
converted. They sit down and rest in a false hope, per
suading themseives that all their sins are pardoned ;
that God loves them ; that they shall go to heaven when
they die ; and that they need trouble themselves no more :
Rev. iii. 17. "Because thou sayest, I am rich, and in
creased with goods,and have need of nothing ; and knowest
not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and
blind, and naked."
Sinners very generally go on flattering themselves in
some or other of these ways, till their punishment actually
overtakes them. These are the baits by which Satan
catches souls, and draws them into his snare. They are
such self-flatteries as these that keep men from seeing their
danger, and that make them go on securely, " as the bird
hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his
life."

Those that flatter themselves with hopes of living a
great while longer in the world, very commonly continue
to do so till death comes. Death comes upon them when
they expect it not ; they look upon it as a great way off,
when there is but a step between. They thought not of
dying at that time, nor at any time near it. When they
were young, they proposed to live a good while longer ;
and if they happen to live till middle age, they still main
tain the same thought, that they are not yet near death ;
and so that thought goes along with them as long as they
live, or till they are just about to die.
Men often have a dependence on their own righteous
ness, and as long as they live are never brought off from
it. Multitudes uphold themselves with their own inten
tions, till all their prospects are dashed in pieces by death.
They put off the work which they have to do till such a
time ; and when that comes, they put it off to another
time ; until death, which cannot be put off, overtakes
them. There are many also that hold a false hope, a per
suasion that they belong to God ; and as long as they
live, by all the marks and signs which are given of a true
convert, they never will be persuaded to let go their hope,
till it is rent from them by death.
Thus men commonly uphold themselves, and make
themselves easy, till hell-fire makes them uneasy. Ever
lasting ruin comes upon them as a snare, and all their
hopes are at once cut off, and turned into everlasting
despair : 1 Thess. v. 3. " When they shall say, Peace and
safety ; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as
travail upon a woman with child ; and they shall not
escape." SECT. III.
The subject applied.
1. Hence we learn one reason why there are but few
saved, and why so many perish from under the gospel.
All men know that they must die, and all that sit under
the light of the gospel have been told many a time, that
after this there is another world ; that there are but two
states in that other world — a state of eternal happiness,
and a state of eternal misery — that there is but one way of
escaping the misery and obtaining the blessedness of eter
nity, which is by obtaining an interest in Christ, through
faith in him ; and that this life is the only opportunity of
obtaining an interest in Christ. Yet men are so much
given to flatter themselves in those ways which we have
mentioned, that there are but few that seasonably take care
of their salvation. Indeed they cannot but be in some
measure concerned about their souls ; yet they flatter
themselves with one thing or other, so that they are kept
steadily and uninterruptedly going on in the broad way to
destruction. 2. Hence we learn the reason why awakening truths of
Scripture, and awakening sermons, make no more impres
sion upon men. It is in itself a wonderful and surprising
thing, that God's denunciations of eternal misery, and
threatenings of casting sinners into the lake that burneth
with fire and brimstone for ever and ever, do not affect
them, do not startle them. The truth is, they flatter
themselves, by such means as we have mentioned, that
this dreadful misery is not for them ; that they shall escape
it, though multitudes of others are involved in it. They
take not these threatenings to themselves ; they seem to
think that they do not belong to them.
How many are there, who, for all the awakening ser
mons they have heard, are yet secure in sin ! and who,
although they are sensible that they are in a Christless
condition, and are still going on in sin, yet intend to go
to heaven, and expect that by some means or other they
shall arrive there. They are often told, that God is very
angry with them : yet they think God is a very merciful
God, and they shall be able to pacify him. If they be
told how uncertain life is, that doth not awaken them, be
cause they flatter themselves with long life. If they be
told how dangerous it is to delay the business of religion,
they promise themselves, that they will hereafter engage in
it with more earnestness than others, and so obtain the
end, the salvation of their souls. Others, when they are
told that many shall seek who shall not be able to obtain,

220

THE VAIN SELF-FLATTERIES OF SINNERS.

think surely, that they having done so much for salvation,
shall not be denied.
, 3. Let every sinner examine, whether he do not flatter
himself in some of those ways which have been mention
ed. What is it in your own minds which makes you
think it is safe for you to delay turning to God ? What is
it that encourages you to run such a venture as you do,
by delaying this necessary work ? Is it that you hope there
is no such state as heaven or hell, and have a suspicion
that there is no God ? Is it this that makes you secure ? or
is it that you are not much afraid but that you shall have
opportunity enough a great while hence to mind such
things ? Is it an intention of a future seeking at a more
convenient season ? and are you persuaded that God will
hearken to you then, after you shall have so long turned a
deaf ear to his commands and gracious iifvitations ? Are
you encouraged to commit sin, because you hope to re
pent of it ? Are you encouraged by the mercy of God to
be his enemies ? and do you resolve still to provoke him
to anger, because you think he is easily pacified ?
Or do you think that your conversion is in your own
power, and that you can turn to God when you please ?
Is it because you have been born of godly parents that
you are so secure ? or do you imagine that you are in a
fair way to be converted ? Do you think that what you
have done in religion will engage God to pity you, and
that he never can have the heart to condemn one who has
lived in so orderly a manner ? or do you think that you
are indeed converted already ? and doth that encourage
you to take a liberty in sinning ? Or are you secure, be
cause you are so stupid as to think nothing about these
things ? Do you let these concerns wholly alone, and
scarcely ever think at all how it will be with you after you
are dead ? — Certainly it must be one or more of these
things which keeps you in your security, and encourages
you to go on in sin. Examine therefore, and see which of
them it is.
4. Be persuaded to leave off thus flattering yourselves in
your own eyes. You are here informed, that those who
do as you dn, commoaly continue so doing till their
punishment actually comes upon them. Thereby you
may be convinced of the vanity of all such flatteries. Be
afraid of that which you are sure is the devil's bait :
" Surely in vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird."
Prov. i. 17.
You are not only told in the Scriptures, that sinners are
generally thus allured to hell, but your own reason may
convince you that it is so. For doubtless other sinners
have as much ground to hope an escape of punishment as
you ; and it is evident, that they generally do hope to
escape. Men under the gospel almost universally think
they shall not go to hell ; if it were otherwise, they could
have no peace or comfort in the world. Yet what multi
tudes have we reason to conclude go down from under the
preaching of the gospel to the pit of destruction ! Now,
this is surely enough to convince any sober, prudent per
son of the folly of such flattery, and of the folly of every
one that doth not immediately set about this great work

with his might. If you could have access to the damned*
you would hear many of them curse themselves, for thus
flattering themselves while they lived in this world ; and
you would have the same doctrine preached to you by
their wailings and veilings which is now delivered to you.
If your temptation to security be unbelief of the fun
damental doctrines of religion, such as the being of God,
of another world, and an eternal judgment, you may con
sider, that though that makes you secure at present, yet it
will not do always, it will not stand by when you come
to die. The fool often in health saith, There is no God ;
but when he comes to die, he cannot rest in any such
supposition. Then he is generally so much convinced in
his own conscience, that there is a God, that he is in
dreadful amazement for fear of his eternal wrath. It is
folly, therefore, to flatter yourselves with any supposition
now, which you will not then be able to hold. — If you
depend on long life, consider how many who have de
pended on the same thing, and had as much reason to de
pend on it as you, have died within your remembrance.
Is it because you are outwardly of an orderly life and
conversation, that you think you shall be saved ? How
unreasonable is it to suppose, that God should be so
obliged by those actions, which he knows are not done
from the least respect or regard to him, but wholly with a
private view ! Is it because you are under great advantages,
that you are not much afraid but that you shall some time
or other be converted, and therefore neglect yourselves
and your spiritual interests 7 And were not the people of
Bethsaida, Chorazin, and Capernaum, under as great ad
vantages as you, when Christ himself preached the gospel
to them, almost continually, and wrought such a multitude
of miracles among them ? Yet he says, that it shall he
more tolerable in the day of judgment for Sodom and
Gomorrah, than for those cities.
Do you expect you shall be saved, however you neglect
yourselves, because you were born of godly parents?
Hear what Christ saith, Matt. iii. 9. "Think not to say.
within yourselves, We have Abraham to our Father." Do
you flatter yourselves that you shall obtain mercy, though
others do not, because you intend hereafter to seek it more
earnestly than others ? Yet you deceive yourselves, if you
think that you intend better than many of those others, or
better than many who are now in hell once intended.
If you think you are in a way of earnest seeking, con
sider, whether or no you do not mind other things yet
more ? If you imagine that you have it in your own
power to work yourselves up to repentance, consider, that
you must assuredly give up that imagination, before you
can have repentance wrought in you. If you think your
selves already converted, and that encourages you to give
yourselves the greater liberty in sinning, this is a certain
sign that you are not converted.
Wherefore abandon all these ways of flattering your
selves ; no longer follow the devil's bait ; and let nothing
encourage you to go on in sin; but immediately and
henceforth seek God with all your heart, and soul, and
strength.

DISHONESTY;

THE SIN OF THEFT AND OF INJUSTICE.*

Exod. xx. 15.
Thou shalt not steal.
This is one of the ten commandments, which constitute
a summary of man's duty, as revealed by God. God
» Dated, July, 1740.

made many revelations to the children of Israel in the
wilderness by Moses : but this made in the ten command
ments is the chief. * Most of those other revelations con
tained ceremonial or judicial laws ; but this contains the
moral law. The most of those other laws respected the

Sect. I.

THE DISHONESTY OF WITHHOLDING PROPERTY.

221

Jewish nation ; but here is a summary of laws binding on
all mankind. Those were to last till Christ should come,
and have set up the christian church ; these are of per
petual obligation, and last to the end of the world. God
every where, by Moses and the prophets, manifests a far
greater regard to the duties of these commands, than to
any of the rites of the ceremonial law.
These commands were given at mount Sinai, before any
of the precepts of the ceremonial or judicial laws. They
were delivered by a great voice out of the midst of fire,
which made all the people in the camp tremble, and after
wards were engraven on tables of stone, and laid up in
the ark ; the first table containing the four first command
ments, which teach our duty to God ; the second table
containing the six last, which teach our duty to man. The
sum of the duties of the first table is contained in that
which Christ says is the first and great commandment of
the law; Matt. xxii. 37. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all
thy mind." The sum of what is required in the second
table, is what Christ calls the second command, like unto
the first; verse 39. "The second is like unto it, Thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself."
Of the commands of this second table of the law, the
first, (which is the fifth of the ten,) refers to that honour
which is due to our neighbour ; the second respects his
life; the third his chastity; the fourth his estate ; the fifth
his good name ; the sixth and last respects his possessions
and enjoyments in general. It is that command which
respects our neighbour's estate, and which is the fourth
command of the second table, and the eighth of the whole
decalogue, on which I am now to insist : and here I shall
make the command itself, as the words of it lie before us
in the decalogue, my subject : and as the words of the
commandment are in the form of a prohibition, forbidding
a certain kind of sin ; so I shall consider particularly
what it is that this command forbids. The sin that is
forbidden in this command is called stealing ; yet we can
not reasonably understand it only of that act, which in
the more ordinary and strict sense of the word, is called
stealing. But the iniquity which this command forbids,
may be summarily expressed thus : — An unjust usurping
qf our neighbour's property, without his consent.
So much is doubtless comprehended in the text ; yet
this comprehends much more than is implied in the ordi
nary use of the word, stealing ; which is only a secret
taking of that which is another's from his possession,
without either his consent or knowledge. But the ten
commands are not to be limited to the strictest sense of
the words, but are to be understood in such a latitude, as
to include all things that are of that nature or kind.
Hence Christ reproves the Pharisees' interpretation of the
sixth command, Matt. v. 21, 22. ; and also their interpre
tation of the seventh command ; see verse 27, 28. ; by
which it appears that the commands are not to be under
stood as forbidding only these individual sins, which are
expressly mentioned, in the strictest sense of the expres
sions ; but all other things of the same nature or kind. —
Therefore, what is forbidden in this command is all un
just usurpation of our neighbour's property. Here it may
be observed, that an unjust usurpation of our neighbour's
property is twofold ; it may be, either by withholding what
is our neighbour's, or, by taking it from him.

SECT. I.
The dishonesty of withholding what is our neighbour's.
There are many ways in which persons may unjustly
usurp their neighbour's property, by withholding what is
his due ; but I shall particularize only two things.
1. The unfaithfulness of men in not fulfilling their en
gagements. Ordinarily when men promise any thing to
their neighbour, or enter into engagements by undertaking
any business with which their neighbour intrusts them,
their engagements invest their neighbour with a right to
that which is engaged ; so that if they withhold it, they
usurp that which belongs to their neighbour. So, when
men break their promises, because they find them to be
inconvenient, and they cannot fulfil them without difficulty

and trouble; or merely because they have altered their
minds since they promised. They think they have not
consulted their own interest in the promise which they
have made, and that if they had considered the matter as
much before they promised as they have since, they should
not have promised. Therefore they take the liberty to set
their own promises aside. Besides, sometimes persons
violate this command, by neglecting to fulfil their engage
ments, through a careless, negligent spirit.
They violate this command, in withholding what belongs
to their neighbour, when they are not faithful in any busi
ness which they have undertaken to do for their neighbour.
If their neighbour have hired them to labour for him for a
certain time, and they be not careful well to husband the
time ; if they be hired to a day's labour, and be not care
ful to improve the day, as they have reason to think that
he who hired justly expected of them ; or if they be hired
to accomplish such a piece of work, and be not careful to
do it well, do it not as if it were for themselves, or as they
would have others do for them, when they in like manner
betrust them with any business of theirs ; or if they be
intrusted with any particular affair, which they undertake,
but use not that care, contrivance, and diligence, to ma
nage it so as will be to the advantage of him who intrusts
them, and as they would manage it, or would insist that
it should be managed, if the affair was their own : in all
these cases they unjustly withhold what belongs to their
neighbour. 2. Another way in which men unjustly withhold what
is their neighbour's, is in neglecting to pay tlieir debts.
Sometimes this happens, because they run so far into debt
that they cannot reasonably hope to be able to pay their
debts ; and this they do, either through pride and affecta
tion of living above their circumstances, or through a
grasping, covetous disposition, or some other corrupt prin
ciple. Sometimes they neglect to pay their debts from
carelessness of spirit about it, little concerning themselves
whether they are paid or not, taking no care to go to their
creditor, or to send to him ; and if they see him from time
to time, they say nothing about their debts. Sometimes
they neglect to pay their debts, because it would put them
to some inconvenience. The reason why they do it not, is
not because they cannot do it, but because they cannot do
it so conveniently as they desire ; and so they rather choose
to put their creditor to inconvenience by being without
what properly belongs to him, than to put themselves to
inconvenience by being without what doth not belong to
them, and what they have no right to detain. In any of
these cases they unjustly usurp the property of their neigh
bour. Sometimes persons have that by them with which they
could pay their debts if they would ; but they want to lay
out their money for something else, to buy gay clothing for
their children, or to advance their estates, or for some such
end. They have other designs in hand, which must fail,
if they pay their debts. When men thus withhold what
is due, they unjustly usurp what is not their own. Some
times they neglect to pay their debts, and their excuse for
it is that their creditor doth not need it ; that he hath a
plentiful estate, and can well bear to lie out of his money.
But if the creditor be ever so rich, that gives no right
to the debtor to withhold from him that which be
longs to him. If it be due, it ought to be paid : for that
is the very notion of its being due. It is no more lawful
to withhold from a man what is his due, without his con
sent, because he is rich and able to do without it, than it
is lawful to steal from a man because he is rich, and able
to bear the loss. SECT. II.
The dishonesty qf unjustly taking a neighbour's property.
The principal ways of doing this seem to be these four,
by negligence, by fraud, by violence, or by stealing strictly
so called.
1 . The first way of unjustly depriving our neighbour of
that which is his, is by negligence, by carelessly neglecting
that which is expected by neighbours, one of another, and
is necessary to prevent our neighbour's suffering in his
estate by us, cr by any thing thai is ours : and necessary

222

THE SIN OF THEFT AND OF INJUSTICE.

in order that neighbours may live one by another, without
suffering in their lawful interests, rights, and possessions,
one by another.
For instance, when proper care is not taken by men to
prevent their neighbour's suffering in the produce of his
fields or enclosures, from their cattle, or other brute crea
tures ; which may be either through negligence with re
gard to their creatures themselves, in keeping those that
are unruly, and giving them their liberty, though they
know that they are not fit to have their liberty, and are
commonly wont to break into their neighbour's enclosures
greatly to his damage ; or through a neglect of that which
is justly expected of them, to defend others' fields from
suffering by the neighbourhood of their own. In such
cases men are guilty of unjustly taking from their neigh
bour what is his property.
It is said in the law of Moses, Exod. xxii. 5. " If a
man shall cause a field or vineyard to be eaten, and shall
put in his beast, and shall feed in another man's field ; of
the best of his own field, and of the best of his vineyard,
shall he make restitution." Now a man mav be unjustly
the cause of his neighbour's field or vineyard being eaten,
either by putting in his beast, and so doing what he should
not do ; or by neglecting to do what he should do, to pre
vent his beast from getting into his field. What is said in
the 144th Psalm, and two last verses, supposes that a peo
ple who carry themselves as becomes a people whose God
is the Lord, will take thorough care that beasts do not
break into their neighbour's enclosures : " That our oxen
may be strong to labour ; that there be no breaking in,
nor going out; that there be no complaining in our streets.
Happy is that people that is in such a case; yea, happy is
that people whose God is the Lord."
2. Taking away that which is our neighbour's by fraud,
or by deceiving him, is another mode of usurping our
neighbour's property. This is the case when men in their
dealings take advantage of their neighbour's ignorance, or
oversight, or mistake, to get something from him ; or when
they make their gains, by concealing the defects of what
they sell, putting off bad for good, though this be not done
by speaking falsely, but only by keeping silence ; or when
they take a higher price than what they sell is really worth,
and more than they could get for it if the concealed defect-
were known : or when they sell that for good, which in
deed is not merchantable, which is condemned in Amos
viii. 6. " Yea, and sell the refuse of the wheat."
If a man puts off something to another with defects that
are concealed, knowing that the other receives it as good,
and pays such a price for it, under a notion of its having
no remarkable defect but what he sees, and takes the price
which the buyer under that notion offers ; the seller knows
that he takes a price of the buyer for that which the buyer
had not of him ; for the buyer is deceived, and pays for
those things which he finds wanting in what he buys. It
is just the same thing, as if a man should take a payment
that another offers him, through a mistake, for that which
he never had of him, thinking that he had it of him, when
he had it not.
So a man fraudulently takes away that which is his neigh
bour's, when he gets his money from him by falsely com
mending what he hath to sell, above what he knows to be
the true quality of it ; and attributes those good qualities
to it which he knows it has not : or if he does not that,
yet sets forth the good qualities in a degree beyond what
he knows to be the true degree ; or speaks of the defects
and ill qualities of what he has to sell, as if they were
' much less than he knows they are : or on the contrary,
when the buyer will cry down what he is about to buy,
contrary to his real opinion of the value of it. — -These
things, however common they be in men's dealings one
with another, are nothing short of iniquity, and fraud, and
a great breach of this commandment, upon which we are
discoursing. Prov. xx. 14. " It is nought, it is nought,
saith the buyer ; but when he is gone his way then he
boasteth." — Many other ways there are whereby men de
ceive one another in their trading, and whereby they frau
dulently and unjustly take away that which is their neigh
bour's. 3. Another mode of unjustly invading and taking away
our neighbour's property, is by violence. This violence

may be done in different degrees.— Men may take away
their neighbour's goods either by mere open violence,
either making use of superior strength, forcibly taking
away any thing that is his; or by express or implicit
threatenings forcing him to yield up what he has into
their hands ; as is done in open robbery and piracy. Or,
by making use of some advantages which they have over
their neighbour, in their dealings with him, constrain him
to yield to their gaining unreasonably of him ; as when
they take advantage of their neighbour's poverty to extort
unreasonably from him for those things that he is under a
necessity of procuring for himself or family. This is an
oppression against which God hath shown a great displea
sure in his word. Levit. xxv. 14. "And if thou sell
ought unto thy neighbour, or buyest ought of thy neigh
bour, ye shall not oppress one another." Prov. xxii. 22,
23. " Rob not the poor, because he is poor, neither oppress
the afflicted in the gate ; for the Lord will pleat! their
cause, and spoil the soul of those that spoiled them." And,
Amos iv. 1, 2. " Hear this word, ye kine of Bashan, that
are in the mount of Samaria, which oppress the poor,
which crush the needy, the Lord hath sworn in his holiness,
that he will take you away with hooks, and your posterity
with fish-hooks."
When the necessity of poor indigent people is the very
thing whence others take occasion to raise the price of
provisions, even above the market ; this is such an oppres
sion. There are many poor people whose families are in
such necessity of bread, that they in their extremity will
give almost any price for it, rather than go without it.
Those who have to sell, though hereby they have an ad
vantage in their hands, yet surely should not take the
advantage to raise the price of provisions. We should
doubtless think that we had just cause to complain, if we
were in such necessity as they are, and were reduced to
their straits, and were treated in this manner ; and let us
remember, that it is owing only to the distinguishing good
ness of God to us, that we are not in their circumstances ;
and whatever our present circumstances are, yet we know
not but that the time may still come when their case may
be ours.
Men may oppress others, though they be not poor, if
thev will take advantage of any particular necessities of
their neighbour, unreasonably to extort from him. The
case may be so at particular seasons, that those who are
not poor, may stand in particular and extraordinary need
of what we have, or what we can do for them ; so that it
would be greatly to their disadvantage or loss to be with
out it. Now to take advantage of their urgent circum
stances, to get from them an unreasonable price, is a violent
dealing with our neighbours.
It is very unreasonable to say, Such men are so rich,
and get money so much more easily than I, that it is no
hurt for me to take advantage when they are in special need,
and make them give me, for work that I do for them, a
great deal more than I would desire to ask of other men.
Let such consider, whether, if they should by any means
hereafter get forward in the worid, and come to have
plentiful estates, they would like that persons should act
upon such principles towards them. That men are rich,
gives us no more right to take away from them what is
theirs in this way, than it does to steal from them because
they come easily by their property, and can do without it
better than we.
Again, another thing that is a kind of violent taking
from our neighbour what is his, is taking the advantage of
the law to gain from others, when their cause in honesty
and conscience is just and good. The circumstances of
mankind, their rights, possessions, and dealings one with
another, are so various, that it is impossible that any body
of' human laws should be contrived to suit all possible
cases and circumstances. Hence the best laws may be
abused and perverted to purposes contrary to the general
design of laws, which is to maintain the rights and secure
the properties of mankind. Human laws have a regard
due to them, but always in subordination to the higher
laws of God and nature. Therefore when it so happens,
that we have an advantage by the law, to gain what the
laws of moral honesty allow not, it is an oppression and
violence to take the advantage. That human laws allow

Sect. II.

THE DISHONESTY OF TAKING PROPERTY.

223

it, will not excuse us before God, the Judge ofthe world,
who will judge us another day by his own laws and not
by the laws of the commonwealth.
4. The fourth way of unjustly taking from our neighbour
that which is his, is stealing so called. All unjust ways of
taking away, or invading, or usurping what is our neigh
bour's, are called stealing in the most extensive use of the
word, and all is included in the expression in this com
mand. Yet the word stealing, as it is more commonly
used, is not of so great extent, and intends not all unjust
invasion of our neighbour's property, but only a particular
kind of unjust taking. So that in common speech when
we speak of fraudulent dealings, of extortion, unfaithful
ness in our trust, and of stealing, we understand different
sins by these expressions, though they are an usurpation of
what is our neighbour's.
Stealing, strictly so called, may be thus defined, A de
signed taking of our neighbour's goods from him, without
his consent or knowledge. It is not merely a withholding
of what is our neighbour's, but a taking away : and therein
it differs from unfaithfulness in our undertakings and be-
trustments, and also from negligence in the payment of
debts, lt is a designed or wilful depriving of our neigh
bour of what is his, and so differs from wronging our
neighbour in his estate through carelessness or negligence.
It is a taking of our neighbour's goods without his know-
' ledge; it is a private, clandestine taking away, and so
differs from robbery by open violence.
So also it differs from extortion : for in that the person
knows what is taken from him. The aim of him that
takes is no other than that he should know it ; for he makes
use of other means than his ignorance, to obtain what is
his neighbour's, viz. violence to constrain him to give it up.
So also it differs from fraudulent dealing or trading. For
though in fraudulent dealing the lawful possessor doth not
understand the ways and means, by which he parts with
his goods, and by which his neighbour becomes possessed
of them; yet he knows the fact ; the deceiver designedly
conceals the manner only. But in stealing, strictly so
called, he that takes, intends not that it shall be known
that he takes. It also differs from extortion and fraudulent
dealing, in that it is wholly without the consent of the
owner. . For in extortion, though there be no free consent ;
yet the consent ofthe owner is in some sort gained, though
by oppressive means. So in fraudulent dealing consent is
in some sort obtained, though it be by deceit. But in
stealing no kind of consent is obtained.
A person may steal from another, yet not take his goods
without the knowledge of the owner ; because he may
know of it accidentally, he may see what is done, unawares
to the thief. Therefore I have defined stealing, a designed
taking without the consent or knowledge of the owner. If
it be accidentally known, yet it is not known in the design
and intention of the thief. The thief is so far at least
private in it, that he gives no notice to the owner at the
time. It must be also without the consent of the owner.
A person may take without the knowledge of the owner,
and yet not take without his consent. The owner may not
know of his taking at the time, or of his taking any par
ticular things : yet there may be his implicit consent.
There may have been a general consent, if not expressed,
yet implied. The circumstances of the affair may be such,
that his consent may well be presumed upon, either from
an established custom,, allowed by all, or from the nature
ofthe case ; the thing being of such a nature, that it may
well be presumed that none would refuse their consent ; as
in the case of a person's accidentally passing through his
neighbour's vineyard in Israel, and eating his fill of
grapes : or from the circumstances of the persons, as is the
case, in many instances, of the freedom which near neigh
bours and intimate friends often take, and of that boldness
which they use with respect to each other's goods.
In all such cases, though the owner do not particularly
know what is done, yet he that takes, does it not with any
contrived designed concealment. And though there is no
express, particular consent, yet there is a consent either
implied, or justly presumed upon ; and he that takes, doth
not designedly do it without consent.
It may happen in some cases, that one may take the
goods of another both without his knowledge and consent,

I

either explicit or implicit, but through mistake ; yet he
may not be guilty of stealing. Therefore the design of
him who takes must come into consideration. When he
designedly takes away that which is his neighbour's, with
out his consent or knowledge, then he steals. So that if it
should happen, that he has both his consent and know
ledge, without his design, he steals. And if it so happen
that he takes without either his neighbour's consent or
knowledge, and yet without his own design, he steals not.
I desire therefore that this, which I take to be the true
definition of theft or stealing, may be borne in mind, viz.
a designed taking of our neighbour's goods, without his
consent or knowledge ; because it is needful to clear up
many things which 1 have yet to say on this subject.

SECT. III.
Dishonest excuses.
Here I shall particularly take notice of some things,
by which persons may be ready to excuse themselves, in
privately taking their neighbour's goods, which however
cannot be a just excuse for it, nor will they make such a
taking to be stealing.
1. That the person whose goods are privately taken, owes
or is in debt to him that takes them. Some may be ready
to say that they do not take that which is their neighbour's,
they take that which is their own, because as much is due
to them, their neighbour owes them as much, and unjustly
detains it, and they know not whether ever they shall get
their due of him. Their neighbour will not do them right.
and therefore they must right themselves.
But such pleas as these will not justify a man in going in
a private and clandestine manner to take away any thing
of his neighbour's from his possession, without his consent
or knowledge; his doing this is properly stealing. For
though something of his neighbour's, which is as valuable
as what he takes, may be due to him ; that doth not give
him such a right to his neighbour's goods, that he may take
any thing that is his, according to his own pleasure, and at
what time and in what manner he pleases. That his
neighbour is in debt to him, doth not give him a right to
take it upon himself to be his own judge, so that he may
judge for himself, which of his neighbour's goods shall
be taken from him to discharge the debt ; and that he may
act merely according to his own private judgment and
pleasure in such a case, without so much as acquainting his
neighbour with the affair.
In order to warrant such a proceeding as this, every
thing that his neighbour has, must be his. A man may
not take indifferently what he pleases out of a number of
goods, without the consent or knowledge of any other
person, unless all is his own, to be disposed of as he pleases.
Such a way of using goods according to our own pleasure,
taking what we will, and at what time we will, can be
warranted by nothing but a dominion over the whole.
And though he who is in debt may be guilty of great in
justice in detaining what is due to another ; yet it doth not
thence follow, but that he that takes from him, may also
be guilty of great injustice towards him. The course he
takes to right himself may be very irregular and unreason- ,
able; and such a course, that if universally allowed and
pursued in such cases, would throw human society into
confusion. When men obtain a property in any of the professions
of this life, they are at the same time also invested with a
right to retain a possession of them, till they are -deprived
of them in some fair and regular proceeding. Every man
has a right to hold his estate, and keep possession of his
properties, so that no other can lawfully use them as his
own, untii he either parts with them of his own accord, or
until it be taken from him according to some established
rule, in a way of open justice. Therefore he who, under
pretence of having just demands upon his neighbour, pri
vately takes his goods without his consent, takes them un
justly, and is guiltv of stealing.
2. Much less will it make such a private taking not to
be stealing, that he who takes, has, in way of kindness or
gift, done for the person from whom he takes, as much as
is equivalent to the value of what he takes. If a man do

224

THE SIN OF THEFT AND OF INJUSTICE.

his neighbour some considerable kindness, whether in la
bour, or in something that he gives him, what he does or
gives is supposed to be done voluntarily, and he is not to
make his neighbour debtor for it; and therefore if any
thing be privately taken away, upon any such consideration,
it is gross stealing.
For instance, when any person needs to have any ser
vices done for him, where a considerable number of hands
are necessary; it is common for the neighbourhood to
meet together and join in helping their neighbour, and fre-
?uently some provision is made for their entertainment.
f any person who hath assisted on such an occasion, and
is a partaker at such an entertainment, shall think within
himself, the service I have done is worth a great deal more
than what I shall eat and drink here, and therefore shall
take liberty privately to take of the provision set before
him, to carry away with him, purposely concealing the
matter from him who hath entertained him, this is gross
stealing ; and it is a very ridiculous plea which they make
to excuse so unmanly and vile an act.
Persons in such cases may say to themselves, that the
provision is made for them, and set before them ; that it
is a time wherein considerable liberty is given, and they
think, seeing they have done so much for their host, they
may take something more than they eat and drink there.
But then let them be open in it ; let them acquaint those
with it who make the entertainment ; and let it not be
done in any wise, in a secret, clandestine manner, with the
least design or attempt to avoid their notice : on the con
trary, let care be taken to give them notice and obtain their
consent. When persons do such things in a private manner, they
condemn themselves by their own act ; their doing what
they do secretly, shows that they are conscious to themselves,
that they go beyond what it is expected they should do,
and do what would not be allowed, if it were known.
Such an act, however light they may make of it, is abomi
nable theft, and what any person of religion or any sense
of the dignity of their own nature, would to the greatest
degree abhor and detest.
3. It is not sufficient lo make a private taking without
consent not to be stealing, that it is but a small matter that
is taken. If the thing be of little value, yet if it be worth
a purposed concealing from the owner, the value is gi'eat
enough to render the taking of it proper theft. If it be
pretended that the thing is of so small consequence, that
it is not worth asking for; then surely it is not worth a
purposed concealing from the owner, when it is taken.
He who, under this pretence, conceals his taking, in the
very act contradicts his own pretence ; for his action shows
that he apprehends, or at least suspects, that, as small a
matter as it is, the owner would not like the taking of it, if he
knew it ; otherwise the taker would not desire to conceal it.
The owner of the goods, and not other people, is the
proper judge, whether what he owns be of such a value, that
it is worth his while to keep it, and to refuse his consent
to the taking of it from him. He who possesses, and not
he who takes away, has a right to judge of what conse
quence his possessions are to him. He has a right to set
what value he pleases on them, and to treat them accord
ing to that value. Besides, merely that a thing is of small
value, cannot give a right to others, purposely and design
edly to take it away, without the knowledge or consent of
the owner. Because if this only gives a right, then all
have a right to take things of small value ; and at this
rate a great number of persons, each of them taking from
a man that which is of small value, might take away all
he has.
Therefore, it will not justify persons, in purposely taking
such things as fruit from the trees, or gardens, or fields of
their neighbours, without their knowledge or consent, that
the things which they take are things of small value : nor
is that sufficient to render such an act not an act of theft
properly so called. This shows also that the smallness of
the value of what is privately taken at feasts and entertain
ments, doth not render the taking of such things not stealing.
The small value of a thing may in some cases justify an
occasional taking of things, so fer as we may from thence,
and from what is generally allowed, reasonably presume
that the owner gives his consent. But if that be the case,

and persons really take, as supposing that the owner con
sents to such occasional taking, then he that takes will not
at ail endeavour to do what he does secretly, nor in any mea
sure to avoid notice. But merely the smallness of the
vaiue of a thing, can never justify a secret taking of what
is another's.
SECT. IV.
The subject applied. — The dishonest warned.
The first use I would make of this doctrine, is to warn
against all injustice and dishonesty, as to what appertains
to our neighbour's temporal goods or possessions. Let me
warn all to avoid all ways of unjustly invading or usurp
ing what is their neighbour's, and let me press that exhor
tation of the apostle, Rom. xii. 17. " Provide things
honest in the sight of all men ;" which implies, that those
things which we provide for ourselves, and use as our own,
should be such as we come honestly by ; and especially
that we should avoid all clandestine or underhand ways of
obtaining any thing that is our neighbour's, either by
fraudulent dealing, or by that taking without our neigh
bour's knowledge and consent, of which we have been
speaking. I warn you to beware of dishonesty in withholding
what is your neighbour's, either by unfaithfulness to your
trust in any business which you undertake, or by with
holding your neighbour's just and honest dues. Consider
that saying of the apostle, Rom. xiii. 8. " Owe no man any
thing, but to love one another." Be also warned against
wronging your neighbour or injuring him in his enclosures,
or in any of his just rights and properties, through careless
neglect of what is reasonably expected by neighbours one
of another, in order that they may live one by another
without mutual injury. Let all beware that they bring
not guilt on their souls in the sight of God, by taking an
advantage to oppress any person. Especially beware of
taking advantage of others' poverty to extort from them :
for God will defend their cause, and you will be no gainers
by such oppression.
Beware also of all injustice by deceitful and fraudulent
dealing. You doubtless meet with abundance of tempt
ation to fraud, and have need to keep a strong guard upon
yourselves. There are many temptations to falsehood in
trading, both about what you would buy and what you
have to sell. There are, in buying, temptations to do as
in Prov. xx. 14. " It is nought, it is nought, saith the
buyer." There are many temptations to take indirect
courses, to blind those with whom you deal, about the
qualities of what you have to sell, to diminish the defects
of your commodities, or to conceal them, and to put off
things for good, which are bad. And there are doubtless
many other ways that men meet with temptations to
deceive others, which your own experience will better
suggest to you than I can.
But here I shall take occasion to speak of a particular
kind of fraud, which is very aggravated, and is rather a
defrauding of God than man. W hat I mean is, the giving
of that which is bad for good in public contributions.
though it be matter of great shame and lamentation that
it should be so, yet it is to be feared, from what has some
times been observed, that there are some who, when there
is a public contribution to be made for the poor, or some
other pious and charitable use, sometimes take that oppor
tunity to put off tlieir bad money. That which they find,
or think, their neighbours will refuse to take at their hands,
because they will have opportunity to see what is offered
them, and to observe the badness of it, even that they
therefore take opportunity to put off to God.
Hereby they endeavour to save their credit ; for they
apprehend that they shall be concealed. They appear
with others to go to the contribution, as it is not known,
but that they put in that which is good. But they cheat
the church of God, and defraud the expectations of the
poor : or rather, they lie to God : for those who receive
what is given, stand as Christ's receivers, and not as acting
for themselves in this matter.
They that do thus, do that which is very much of the
same nature with that sin, against which God denounces
that dreadful curse in Mai. i. 14. " Cursed be the de-

Sect. IV.

THE DISHONEST WARNED.

225

ceiver which hath in his flock a male, and voweth and
sacrificed, unto the Lord a corrupt thing : for I am a great
King, saith the Lord of hosts, and my name is dreadful
among the heathen." That hath in his flock a male, i. e.
That has in his flock that which is good and fit to be
offered to God : for it was the male of the flock principally
that was appointed, in the law of Moses, to be offered in
sacrifice. He has in his flock that which is good, but he
vows and sacrifices to the Lord " the torn, the lame, and
the sick," as it is said in the foregoing verse ; ye said also,
" Behold what a weariness is it, and ye have snuffed at it,
saith the Lord of hosts ; and ye brought that which was
torn, and the lame, and the sick; thus ye brought an of
fering : should I accept this of your hands ? saith the Lord."
Contributions in the christian church come in the room
of sacrifices in the Jewish church : mercy comes in the
room of sacrifice. And what is offered in the way of
mercy is as much offered to God, as the sacrifices of old
were. For what is done to the poor is done to Christ, and
he that hath pity on the poor, lendeth to the Lord ; Prov.
xix. 17. The Jews that offered the sick and lame of the
flock, knew that if they had offered it to their governor,
and had attempted to put it off, as part of the tribute or
public taxes due to their earthly rulers, it would not be
accepted, and therefore they were willing to put it off
to God. " And if ye offer the blind for sacrifice, is it
not evil? and if ye offer the lame and sick, is it not
evil ? Offer it now unto thy governor, will he be pleased
with thee, or accept thy person ? saith the Lord of hosts."
So those persons who purposely put bad money into
contributions, know that what they put in would not be
accepted if they should offer to pay their public taxes.
Yea, they know that their neighbours would not accept it
at their hands ; and therefore they are willing to save
themselves, by putting it off to God.
This practice has also very much of the nature of the
sin of Ananias and Sapphlra. What they offered was
by way of contribution for charitable uses. The brethren
sold what they had, and brought it into a common stock,
and put all under the care of deacons, that the poor might
every one be supplied. Ananias and Sapphira brought
a part of their possessions, and put it into the common
stock ; and their sin was, that they put it in for more than
it really was. It was but a part of what they had, and
they put it in, and would have it accepted, as if it had
been all. So those among us, of whom I am speaking,
put off what they put into the charitable stock, for more
than it is. For they put it in, under the notion that it is
something of some value ; they intend it shall be so taken
by the church that sees them go to the contribution, when
indeed they put in nothing at all.
Ananias and Sapphira were charged with lying to God,
and doing an act of fraud towards God himself, in what
they did : Acts v. 4. " Whilst it remained, was it not
thine own ? And after it was sold, was it not in thine own
power ? Why hast thou conceived this thing in thine heart ?
Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God." So those
who knowingly put bad money for good into a contribu
tion for a charitable use, as much as in them lies commit
an act of fraud and deceit towards God. For the deacons
who receive what is contributed, receive it not in their own
names, but as Christ's receivers. I hope these things
may be sufficient to deter every reader from ever daring to
do such a thing for the future.
Again, another thing I would warn you against, is,
stealing, properly and strictly so called ; or designedly
taking away any of your neighbour's goods without his
consent or knowledge. And especially 1 would now take
occasion to warn against a practice which is very common
in the country, particularly among children and young
people ; and that is, stealing fruit from their neighbour's
trees or enclosures. There is a licentious liberty taken by
many children and young people, in making bold with their
neighbour's fruit ; and it is to be feared, that they are too
much countenanced in it by their parents and many elder
people. I am sensible, that the great thing which is pleaded, and
made very much the ground of this liberty which is taken
and so much tolerated, is a very abusive and unreasonable
construction and application of that text of Scripture in
vol. ii. Q

Deut. xxiii. 24. " When thou comestinto thy neighbour's
vineyard, then thou mayest eat grapes thy fill. But thou
shalt not put any in thy vessel." Because this text seems
to be so much mistaken and misimproved, I shall therefore
endeavour particularly to state the matter of persons taking
their neighbour's fruit, and to set it in a just and clear light
as concerning this text.
It was to eat their fill of grapes when they occasionally
came into or passed through their neighbour's vineyard,
and not thai they should go thither on purpose to eat
grapes. This is manifest by the manner of expression ;
" When thou earnest into thy neighbour's vineyard, thou
mayest eat ;" i. e. when thou art come thither on some
other occasion. If God had meant to give them leave to
come thither on purpose, for no other end, it would not
have been expressed so : but rather thus, Thou mayest
come into thy neighbour's vineyard, and eat grapes thy fill.
• — Such were the circumstances of that people, and vine
yards among them were so common, that there was no
danger that this liberty would be attended with ill conse
quence. It is manifest throughout the history of Israel, that
vineyards among them were so common that the people in
general bad them. Every husbandman among them was a
vine-dresser ; and a great part of the business of a hus
bandman among them, consisted in dressing and taking
care of his vineyards. Grapes seem to have been the most
common sort of fruit that they had. Besides, there was
no liberty given for persons to go on purpose to a vineyard
to eat the fruit of it. So that there was no danger of
neighbours suffering one by another, by any such liberty. —
The liberty did not tend to any such consequence, as the
flocking of a great number to eat grapes, whereby the fruit
of the vineyard might be much diminished.
Such were the circumstances of the case, that the con
sent of the owners of vineyards in general might well be
presumed upon, though no such express liberty had been
given. You may remember that in the definition of steal
ing, I observed, that explicit consent is not always neces
sary ; because the case may be so circumstanced, that con
sent may be well presumed on. And the reason why
consent might well be presumed on in the case of eating
grapes, of which we are now speaking, is, that there could
be no sensible injury, nor any danger of any ill conse
quences, by which a man would sensibly suffer in the be
nefit of his vineyard. Hence it is the more easy to deter
mine, what would and what would not be justified by this
text, among us. Suppose a particular person among us
had a vineyard of the same kind with those which the
children of Israel had, it would not justify others in using
the same liberty when occasionally passing through it;
because it would be a rare thing, and the rarity and scarcity
of the fruit would render it of much greater value. Be
sides, if one man were distinguished by such a possession,
to allow of such a liberty would have a much greater ten
dency to ill consequences, than if they were common, as
they were in the land of Canaan. There would be danger
of many persons falsely pretending, and making occasions,
to pass through the vineyard, for the sake of such rare fruit.
Nor would it be a parallel case, if men in general among
us had each of them a few vines. That would be a very
'different thing from persons in general having large vine
yards. Nor would this text, in such a case, warrant men's
eating their fill of grapes when occasionally passing by. —
And though all in general had vineyards, as they had in
the land of Canaan, this text would not justify men in
going into their neighbour's vineyard on purpose to eat the
fruit. No such liberty is given in the text. If there had
been such liberty, it might have been of ill consequence.
For the sake of saving their own grapes, men might make
a practice of going and sending their children into their
neighbour's vineyards, to eat their fill from time to time.
But the liberty given in this text to the children of
Israel, seems to be very parallel with the liberty taken
among us, to take up an apple or two and eat, as we are
occasionally passing through a neighbour's orchard; which,
as our circumstances are, we may do, and justly presume
that we have the owner's consent. This is a liberty that
we take, and find no ill consequences. It was very much
so with vineyards in the land of Canaan, as it is with
orchards among us. Apples in some countries are a rare

226

THE SIN OF THEFT AND OF INJUSTICE.

fruit; and there it would by no means be warrantable for
persons to take the same liberty when occasionally passing
by their neighbour's apple-tree, which we warrantably take
here, when going through a neighbour's orchard.
The consideration of these things will easily show the
great abuse that is made of this text, when it is brought to
justify such a resorting of children and others to their
neighbour's fruit-trees, as is sometimes, on purpose to take
and eat the fruit. Indeed this practice is not only not
justified by the law of Moses, but it is in itself unreason
able, and contrary to the law of nature. The consequences
of it are pernicious, so that a man can have no dependence
on enjoying the fruit of his labour, or the benefit of his
property in those things, which possibly he may very much
value. He can have no assurance but that he shall be
mainly deprived of what he has, and that others will not
have the principal benefit of it ; and so that his end in
planting and cultivating that from which he expected
those fruits of the earth, which God hath given for the
use, comfort, and delight of mankind, will not be in the
main frustrated. SECT. V.
An exhortation to honesty.
Under this use, I shall confine myself to two particu
lars, many other things having been already spoken to.
1. I shall hence take occasion to exhort parents to re
strain their children from stealing, and particulariy from
beinj* guilty of theft in stealing the fruits of their neigh
bour s trees or fields. Christian parents are obliged to
bring up their children in the nurture and admonition of
the Lord. But how much otherwise do they act, who
bring them up in theft ! And those parents are guilty of
this, who— though they do not directly teach them to steal,
by example and setting them about it, yet— tolerate them in it.
Parents should take effectual care, not only to instruct
their children better, and to warn them against any such
thievish practices, but also thoroughly to restrain them.
Children who practise stealing, make themselves vile.
Stealing, by the common consent of mankind, is a very vile
practice; therefore those parents that will not take tho
rough care to restrain their children from such a practice,
will be guilty of the same sin which God so highly resent
ed, and awfully punished, in Eli, of which we read, 1 Sam.
iii. 13. " For I have told him, that I will judge his house
for ever, for the iniquity which he knoweth ; because his
sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not."
2. I exhort those who are conscious in themselves that
they have heretofore wronged their neighbour to make
restitution. This is a duty the obligation to which is ex
ceedingly plain. If a person was wronged in taking away
any thing that was his, certainly he is wronged also in de
taining it ; and all the while that a person, who has been
guilty of wronging his neighbour, neglects to make restitu

tion, he lives in that wrong. He not only lives impenitent
as to that first wrong of which he was guilty, but he con
tinually wrongs his neighbour. A man who hath gotten
any thing from another wrongfully, goes on to wrong him
every day that he neglects to restore it, when he has op
portunity to do it. The person injured did not only suffer
wrong from the other when his goods were first taken from
him, but he suffers new injustice from him all the while
they are unjustly kept from him.
Therefore I counsel you who are conscious that you
have heretofore wronged your neighbour, either by fraud,
or oppression, or unfaithfulness, or stealing, whether lately
or formerly, though it may have been a great while ago,
speedily to go and make restitution for all the wrong your
neighbour has suffered at your hands. That it was done
long ago, doth not quit you from obligation to restore.
This is a duty with which you must comply ; you cannot
be acquitted without it. As long as you neglect it, it will
be unreasonable in you to expect any forgiveness of God.
For what ground can you have to think that God will par
don you, as long as you wilfully continue in the same
wrong, and wrong the same man still every day, by detain
ing from him that which is his ? You in your prayers ask
of God, that he would forgive all your sins ; but your very
prayers are mockery, if you still wilfully continue in those
sins. — Indeed, if you go and confess your faults to your
neighbour, and he will freely acquit you from making resti
tution, you will be acquitted from the obligation ; for in so
doing, your neighbour gives you what before was his. But
otherwise you cannot be acquitted.
I would leave this advice with all, for direction in their
behaviour on their death-beds. Indeed you should not by
any means put it off till you come to die ; and you will
run the most fearful risk in so doing. But if you will not
do it now, while you are in health, I will leave it with you
to remember, when you shall come to lie on your death
beds. Doubtless, then if you have the use of your reason,
you will be concerned for the salvation of your poor souls.
And let this be one thing then remembered, as absolutely
necessary in order to your salvation, that before you die,
you must make restitution for whatever wrong you shall
have done any of your neighbours ; or at least leave orders
that such restitution be made ; otherwise you will, as it
were, go out of the world, and go before your great Judge,
with stolen goods in your hands. And certainly it will not
be very comfortable or safe, to bring them into his infinite
ly holy and dreadful presence, when he sits on his throne of
judgment, with his eyes as a flame of fire, being more pure
than to look on iniquity ; when he is about to sentence you
to your everlasting unalterable state.
Every one here present, who has been guilty of wrong
ing his neighbour, and has not made restitution, must die.
Let all such therefore remember this counsel now given
them, on the day when death shall approach, if they shali
be so foolish as to neglect it till that time.

TEMPTATION AND DELIVERANCE;
UR,
JOSEPH'S GREAT TEMPTATION AND GRACIOUS DELIVERANCE.*

Genesis xxxix. 12.
And he left his garment in her hand, and fled, and got
him out.
We have here, and in the context, an account of that
remarkable behaviour of Joseph in the house of Potiphar
which was the occasion both of his great affliction, and also
of his high advancement and prosperity in the land of
Egypt. * 173a

We read in the beginning of the chapter, how Joseph,
after he had been so cruelly treated by his brethren, and
sold into Egypt for a slave, was advanced in the house of
Fotiphar, who had bought him. Joseph was one that
feared God, and therefore God was with him ; and so in
fluenced the heart of Potiphar his master, that instead of
keeping him as a mere slave, to which purpose he was
sold, he made him his steward and overseer over his house,
and all that he had was put into his hands ; in so much,
that we are told, ver. 6. " that he left all that he had in his

Sect. I.

WHY WE SHOULD AVOID TEMPTATION.

227

hand ; and he knew not ought that he had, save the bread
which he did eat." — While Joseph was in these prosper
ous circumstances, he met with a great temptation in his
master's house. We are told that, he being a goodly per
son and well favoured, his mistress cast her eyes upon and
lusted after him, and used all her art to tempt him to com
mit uncleanness with her.
Concerning this temptation, and his behaviour under it,
many things are worthy to be noted. Particularly
We may observe, how great the temptation was, that he
was under. It is to be considered, that Joseph was now
in his youth ; a season of life, when persons are most liable
to be overcome by temptations of this nature. And he
was in a state of unexpected prosperity in Potiphar's
house; which has a tendency to lift persons up, especially
young ones, whereby commonly they more easily fall be
fore temptations.
And then, the superiority of the person that laid the
temptation before him, rendered it much the greater. She
was his mistress, and he a servant under her. And the
manner of her tempting him. She did hot only carry
herself so towards Joseph, as to give him cause to suspect
that he might be admitted to such criminal converse with
her ; but she directly proposed it to him ; plainly manifest
ing her disposition to it. So that here was no such thing
as suspicion of her unwillingness to deter him, but a
manifestation of her desire to entice him to it. Yea, she
appeared greatly engaged in the matter. And there was not
only her desire manifested to entice him, but her authority
over him to enforce the temptation. She was his mistress,
and he might well imagine, that if he utterly refused a
compliance, he should incur her displeasure ; and she,
being his master's wife, had power to do much to his dis
advantage, and to render his circumstances more uncom
fortable in the family.
And the temptation was the greater, in that she did not
only tempt him once, but frequently, day by day, verse 10.
And at last became more violent with him. She caught
him by his garment, saying, Lie with me.
His behaviour was very remarkable under these tempta
tions. He absolutely refused any compliance with them :
he made no reply that manifested as though the tempta
tion had gained at all upon him ; so much as to hesitate
about it, or at all deliberate upon it. He complied in no
degree, either to the gross act she proposed, or any thing
tending towards it, or that should at all be gratifying to her
wicked inclination. And he persisted resolute and un
shaken under her continual solicitations, ver. 10. " And it
came to pass as she spake to Joseph day by day, that he
hearkened not unto her, to lie by her, or to be with her."
He, to his utmost, avoided so much as being where she
was. And the motives and principles, from which he
acted, manifested by his reply to her solicitations, are re
markable. — He first sets before her, how injuriously he
should act against his master, if he should comply with
her proposal : " Behold, my master — hath committed all
that he hath to my hand ; there is none greater in this
house than I; neither hath he kept back any thing from
me, but thee, because thou art his wife." But he then
proceeded to inform her of that, which, above all things, de
terred him from a compliance, viz. that it would be great
wickedness, and sin against God. — " How shall I do this,
and sin against God ? He would not do any such thing,
as he would not injure his master ; but that which influ
enced more than all on this occasion, was the fear of
sinning against God. On this account he persisted in his
resolution to the last.
In the text we have an account of his behaviour under
the last and greatest temptation that he had from her. This
temptation was great, as it was at a time when there was
nobody in the house but he and his mistress, ver. 11.
there was an opportunity to commit the fact with the great
est secrecy. And at this time it seems that she was more
violent than ever before. She caught him by the garment,
&c. She laid hold on him, as though she were resolute to
attain her purpose of him.
Under these circumstances he not only refused her, but
fled from her, as he would have done from one that was
going to assassinate him ; he escaped, as for his life. He
not only would not be guilty of such a fact, but neither
Q 2

would he by any means be in the house with her, where he
should be in the way of her temptation.- — This behaviour
of Joseph is doubtless recorded for the instruction of all.
Therefore from the words I shall observe, that it is our
duty, not only to avoid those things that are themselves
sinful, but also, as far as may be, those things that lead
and expose to sin. SECT. I.
Why we should avoid what tends lo sin.
Thus did Joseph : he not only refused actually to com
mit uncleanness with his mistress, who enticed him ; but
refused to be there, where he should be in the way of
temptation, ver. 10. He refused to lie by her, or be with
her. And in the text we are told, " he fled and got him
out;'' would by no means be in her company. Though
it was no sin in itself, for Joseph lo be in the house where
his mistress was ; but under these circumstances it would
expose him to sin. Joseph was sensible be had naturally
a corrupt heart, that tended to betray him to sin; and
therefore he would by no means be in the way of tempta
tion ; but with haste he fled, he ran from the dangerous
place. Inasmuch as he was exposed to sin in that house,
he fled out of it with as much haste as if it had been on
fire; or full of enemies, who stood ready with drawn
swords to stab him to the very heart. When she took him
by the garment, he left his garment in her hands ; he had
rather lose his garment, than stay a moment there, where
he was in such danger of losing his chastity.
I said, that persons should avoid things that expose to
sin, as fur as may be; because it is possible that persons
may be called to expose themselves to temptation ; and
when it is so, they may hope for divine strength and pro
tection under temptation.
It may be a man's indispensable duty to undertake an
office, or a work, attended with a great deal of temptation.
Thus ordinarily a man ought not to run into the temptation
of being persecuted for the true religion ; lest the tempta
tion should be too hard for him ; but should avoid it, as
much as may be : therefore Christ thus directs his disci
ples, Matt. x. 23. " When ye be persecuted in one city,
flee to another." Yet, the case may be so, that a man may
be called not to flee from persecution ; but to run the
venture of such a trial, trusting in God to uphold him
under it. Ministers and magistrates may be obliged to
continue with their people in such circumstances; as Ne
hemiah says, Neh. vi. 11. " Should such a man as I flee?"
So the apostles. — Yea, they may be called to go into the
midst of it ; to those places where they cannot reasonably
expect but to meet with such temptations. So Paul went
up to Jerusalem, when he knew beforehand, that theie
bonds and affliction awaited him, Acts xx. 23.
So in some other cases, the necessity of affairs may
call upon men to engage in some business that is pecu
liarly attended with temptations. But when it is so,
they are indeed least exposed to sin; for they are always
safest in the way of duty. Prov. x. 9. " He that walketh
uprightly, walketh surely." And though there be many
things by which they may have extraordinary temptations,
in the affairs they have undertaken, yet if they have a
clear call, it is no presumption to hope for divine support
and preservation in it.
But for persons needlessly to expose themselves to
temptation, and to do those things that tend to sin, is un
warrantable, and contrary to that excellent example set
before us. And that we ought to avoid not only those
things that are in themselves sinful, but also those things
that lead and expose to sin, is manifest by the following
arguments. 1. It is very evident that we ought to use our utmost
endeavours to avoid sin ; which is inconsistent with need
lessly doing those things, that expose and lead to sin.
And the greater any evil is, the greater care, and the more
earnest endeavours, does it require to avoid it. Those evils
that appear to us very great and dreadful, we use propor
tionably great care to avoid. And therefore the greatest
evil of all, requires the greatest and utmost care to avoid it.
Sin is an infinite evil, because committed against an
infinitely great and excellent Being, and so a violation of

228 infinite obligation : therefore however great our care be to
avoid sin, it cannot be more than proportionable to the
evil we would avoid. Our care and endeavour cannot be
infinite, as the evil of sin is infinite ; but yet it ought to
be to the utmost of our power ; we ought to use every
method that tends to the avoiding of sin. This is mani
fest to reason. — And not only so, but this is positively
required of us in the word of God. Josh. xxii. 5. " Take
diligent heed to do the commandment and the law, which
Moses the servant of the Lord charged you, to love the
Lord your God, and to walk in all his ways, and to keep
his commandments, and to cleave unto him, and to serve
him with all your soul." Deut. iv. 15, 16. " Take ye
therefore good heed unto yourselves, lest ye corrupt your
selves." Chap. xii. 30. "' Take heed to thyself, that thou
be not snared," &c. Luke xi. 36. " Take heed and be
ware of covetousness." 1 Cor. x. 12. " Let him that
thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." Deut. iv. 9.
" Take heed to thyself, keep thy soul diligently." These
and many other texts of Scripture, plainly require of us
the utmost possible diligence and caution to avoid sin.
But how can he be said to use the utmost possible dili
gence and caution to avoid sin, that voluntarily does those
things which naturally expose and lead to sin 7 How can
he be said with the utmost possible caution to avoid an
enemy, that voluntarily lays himself in his way? How
can he be said to use the utmost possible caution to pre
serve the life of his child, that suffers it to go on the edge
of precipices or pits ; or to play on the borders of a deep
gulf; or to wander in a wood, that is haunted by beasts
of prey ?
2. It is evident that we ought to avoid those things that
expose and lead to sin ; because a due sense of the evil
of sin, and a just hatred of it, will necessarily have this
effect upon us, to cause us so to do. — If we were duly
sensible of the evil and dreadful nature of sin, we should
have an exceeding dread of it upon our spirits. We should
hate it worse than death, and should fear it worse than the
devil himself; and dread it even as we dread damnation.
But those things that men exceedingly dread, they natural
ly shun ; and they avoid those things that they apprehend
expose to them. As a child, that has been greatly terrified
by the sight of any wild beast, will by no means be per
suaded to go where it apprehends that it shall fall in its
way. As sin in its own nature is infinitely hateful, so in its
natural tendency it is infinitely dreadful. It is the ten
dency of all sin, eternally to undo the soul. Every sin na
turally carries hell in it 1 Therefore, all sin ought to be
treated by us as we would treat a thing that is infinitely
terrible. If any one sin, yea, the least sin, do not necessarily
bring eternal ruin with it, this is owing to nothing but the
free grace and mercy of God to us, and not to the nature
and tendency of sin itself. But certainly, we ought not to
take the less care to avoid sin, or all that tends to it, for
the freeness and greatness of God's mercy to us, through
which there is hope of pardon ; for that would be indeed a
most ungrateful and vile abuse of mercy. Were it made
known to us, that if we ever voluntarily committed any
particular act of sin, we should be damned without any
remedy or escape, should we not exceedingly dread the
commission of such? Should we not be very watchful
and careful to stand at the greatest distance from that sin ;
and from every thing that might expose us to it ; and that
has any tendency to stir up our lusts, or to betray us to
such an act of sin ? Let us then consider, that though the
next voluntary act of known sin shall not necessarily and
unavoidably issue in certain damnation, yet it will cer
tainly deserve it. We shall thereby really deserve to be
cast off, without any remedy or hope ; and it can only
be owing to free grace, that it will not certainly and reme-
dilessly be followed with such a punishment. And shall
we be guilty of such a vile abuse of God's mercy to us, as
to take encouragement from it, the more boldly to expose
ourselves to sin 7
3. It is evident that we ought not only lo avoid sin, but
things that expose and lead to sin ; because this is the
wav we act in things that pertain to our temporal interest.
— Men avoid not only those things that are themselves the
hurt or ruin of their temporal interest, but also the things

TEMPTATION AND DELIVERANCE.

that tend or expose to it. Because they love their tem
poral lives, they will not only actually avoid killing them
selves, but they are very careful to avoid those things that
bring their lives into danger ; though they do not certainly
know but they may escape.
They are careful not to pass rivers and deep waters on
rotten ice, though they do not certainly know that they
shall fall through and be drowned. They will not only
avoid those things that would be in themselves the ruin of
their estates — as setting their own houses on fire, and burn
ing them up with their substance ; taking their money and
throwing it into the sea, &c. — but they carefully avoid
those things by which their estates are exposed. They
have their eyes about them ; are careful with whom they
deal ; are watchful, that they be not overreached in their
bargains, and that they do not lay themselves open to
knaves and fraudulent persons.
If a man be sick of a dangerous distemper, he is careful
to avoid every thing that tends to increase the disorder;
not only what he knows to be mortal, but other things that
he fears may be prejudicial to him. Men are in this way
wont to take care of their temporal interest. And there
fore, if we are not as careful to avoid sin, as we are to
avoid injury in our temporal interest, it will show a re
gardless disposition with respect to sin and duty; or that
we do not much care though we do sin against God.
God's glory is surely of as much importance and concern
as our temporal interest. Certainly we should be as care
ful not to be exposed to sin against the Majesty of heaven
and earth, as men are wont to be of a few pounds; yea,
the latter are but mere trifles, compared with the former.
4. We are wont to do thus by our dear earthly friends.
— We not only are careful of those things wherein the
destruction of their lives, or their hurt and calamity in any
respect, directly consist ; but are careful to avoid those
things that but remotely tend to it. We are careful to
prevent all occasions of their loss ; and are watchful against
that which tends, in any wise, to deprive them of their
comfort or good name ; and the reason is, because they
are very dear to us. In this manner, men are wont to be
careful of the good of their own children, and dread the
, approaches of any mischief that they apprehend they are,
or may be, exposed to. And we should take it hard if our
friends did not do thus by us.
And surely we ought to treat God as a dear friend : we
ought to act towards him, as those that have a sincere
love and unfeigned regard to him ; and so ought to watch
and be careful against all occasions of that which is con
trary to his honour and glorv. If we have not a temper
and desire so to do, it will show that, whatever our pre
tences are, we are not God's sincere friends, and have no
true love to him. — If we should be offended at any that
have professed friendship to us, if they treated us in this
manner, and were no more careful of our interest; surely
God may justly be offended, that we are no more careful
of his glory.
5 . We would have God, in his providence towards us,
not to order those things that tend to our hurt, or expose
our interest ; therefore certainly we ought to avoid those
things that lead to sin against him.
We desire and love to have God's providence such
towards us, as that our welfare may be well secured. No
man loves to live exposed, uncertain and in dangerous
circumstances. While he is so, he lives uncomfortably, in
that he lives in continual fear. We desire that God would
so order things concerning us, that we may be safe from
fear of evil ; and that no evil may come nigh our dwell
ing ; and that because we dread calamity. So we do not
love the appearance and approaches of it ; and love to
have it at a great distance from us. We desire to have
God to be to us as a wall of fire round about us, to de
fend us ; and that he would surround us as the mountains
do the valleys, to guard us from every danger, or enemy;
that so no evil may come nigh us.
Now this plainly shows, that we ought, in our beha
viour towards God, to keep at _ great distance from sin,
and from all that exposes to it : as we desire God, in his
providence to us, should keep calamity and misery at a
great distance from us, and not to order those things that
expose our welfare.

Sect. I.

WHY WE SHOULD AVOID TEMPTATION.

229

6. Seeing we are to pray we may not be led into
temptation, certainly we ought not to run ourselves into
it.— This is one request that Christ directs us to make to
God in that form of prayer, which he taught his disciples
— " Lead us not into temptation." And how inconsistent
shall we be with ourselves, if we pray to God, that we
should not be led into temptations ; and at the same time,
we are not careful to avoid temptation ; but bring our
selves into it, by doing those things that lead and expose
to sin. What self-contradiction is it, for a man to pray to
God that he may be kept from that, which he takes no
care to avoid ! By praying that we may be kept from
temptation, we profess to God that being in temptation is
a thing to be avoided ; but by running into it we show
that we choose the contrary, viz. not to avoid it.
7. The apostle directs us to avoid those things that are
in themselves lawful, but tend to lead others into sin ;
surely then we should avoid what tends to lead ourselves
into sin. — The apostle directs, 1 Cor. viii. 9. " Take heed
lest — this liberty of yours become a stumbling-block to
them that are weak." Rom. xiv. 13. "That no man put
a stumbling-block, or an occasion to fall, in his brother's
way." Ver. 15. " But if thy brother be grieved with thy
meat, now walkest thou not charitably. Destroy not him
with thy meat." Ver. 20, 21. " For meat destroy not the
work of God. All things indeed are pure ; but it is evil
for that man who eateth with offence. It is good neither
to eat flesh nor to drink wine, nor any thing whereby thy
brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak." — Now
if this rule of the apostle be agreeable to the word of
Christ, as we must suppose, or expunge what he says
out of the canon of the Scripture ; then a like rule obliges
more strongly in those things that tend to lead ourselves
into sin.
8. There are many precepts of Scripture, which directly
and positively imply, that we ought to avoid those things
that tend to sin.
This very thing is commanded by Christ, Matt. xxvi.
41. where he directs us to "watch lest we enter into
temptation." But certainly running ourselves into tempt
ation, is the reverse of watching against it. — We are com
manded to abstain from all appearance of evil ; i. e. do by
sin as a man does by a thing, the sight or appearance of
which he hates ; and therefore will avoid any thing that
looks like it ; and will not come near or in sight of it.
Again, Christ commanded to separate from us those
things that are stumbling-blocks, or occasions of sin, how
ever dear they are to us. Matt. v. 29. " If thy right eye
offend thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee." Ver. 30.
" And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off." By the
right hand offending us, is not meant its paining us ; but
the word in the original signifies, being a stumbling-
block ; if thy right hand prove a stumbling-block, or oc
casion to fall ; i. e. an occasion to sin. Those things are
called offences or stumbling-blocks in the New Testament,
which are the occasions of falling into sin. — Yea, Christ
tells us, we must avoid them, however dear they are to
us, though as dear as our right hand or right eye. If
there be any practice that naturally tends and exposes us
to sin, we must have done with it; though we love it
never so well, and are never so loth to part with it ;
though it be as contrary to our inclination, as to cut off
our own right hand, or pluck out our own right eye ; and
that upon pain of damnation, for it is intimated that if
we do not, we must go with two hands and two eyes into
hell fire.
Again, God took great care to forbid the children of
Israel those things that tended to lead them into sin. For
this reason, he forbad them marrying strange wives,
(Deut. vii. 3, 4.) " Neither shalt thou make marriages with
them, — for they will turn away thy sons from following
me, that they may serve other gods." For this reason
they were commanded to destroy all those things, that the
nations of Canaan had used in their idolatry ; and if any
were enticed over to idolatry, they were to be destroyed
without mercy ; though ever so near and dear friends.
They were not only to be parted with, but stoned with
stones ; yea, they themselves were to fall upon them, and
put them to death, though son or daughter, or their bosom
friend. (Deut. xiii. 6, &c.) " If thy brother,— or thy son,

or thy daughter, or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend,
which is as thine own soul, entice thee secretly, saying,
Let us go and serve other gods, — thou shalt not consent
unto him, — neither shall thine eye pity him, neither shalt
thou spare, neither shalt Ihou conceal him. But thou shalt
surely kill him ; thine hand shall be first upon him to put
him to death."
Again, The wise man warns us to avoid those things
that tend and expose us to sin ; especially the sin of un
cleanness. Prov. vi. 27. " Can a man take fire in his
bosom, and his clothes not be burnt? Can one go upon
hot coals, and his feet not be burnt? — So, whosoever
touches her, shall not be innocent." This is the truth held
forth ; avoid those customs and practices that naturally
tend to stir up lust. And there are many examples in
Scripture, which have the force of precept; and recorded,
as not only worthy, but demand our imitation. The con
duct of Joseph is one ; and that recorded of king David,
is another. Psal. xxxix. 1, 2. " I said I will take heed to
my ways, that I sin not with my tongue ; I will keep my
mouth with a bridle, while the wicked is before me. I was
dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good" —
even from good — that is, he was so watchful over his
words, and kept at such a great distance from speaking
what might in any way tend to sin ; that he avoided, in
certain circumstances, speaking what was in itself law
ful ; lest he should be betrayed into that which was sinful.
9. A prudent sense of our own weakness, and expos
edness to yield to temptation, obliges us to avoid that
which leads or exposes to sin.
Whoever knows himself, and is sensible how weak he
is, and his constant exposedness to run into sin — how full
of corruption his heart is, which, like fuel, is ready to catch
fire, and bring destruction upon him — how much he has in
him to incline him to sin, and how unable he is to stand
of himself — who is sensible of this, and has any regard of
his duty, will he not be very watchful against every thing
that may lead and expose to sin ? On this account Christ
directed us, Matt. xxvi. 41. "To watch and pray, lest we
enter into temptation." The reason is added, the flesh is
weak ! He who, in confidence of his own strength, boldly
runs the venture of sinning, by going into temptation, ma
nifests great presumption, and a sottish insensibility of his
own weakness. " He that trusteth in his own heart is a
fool." Prov. xxviii. 26.
The wisest and strongest, and some of the. most holy
men in the world, have been overthrown by such means.
So was David ; so was Solomon, — his wives turned away
his heart. If such persons so eminent for holiness were
this way led into sin, surely it should be a warning to
us. " Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest
he fell." SECT. II.
What things lead and expose to sin.
If any thing be made out clearly, from reason and the
word of God, lo be our duty, this would be enough with
all Christians. Will a follower of Christ stand objecting
and disputing against what is irrefragably proved and de
monstrated to be his duty ?
But some may be ready to inquire, How shall we know
what things do lead and expose to sin ? Let a man do
what he will, he cannot avoid sinning, as long as he has
such a corrupt heart within him. And there is nothing a
man can do, but he may find some temptation in it. And
though it be true, that a man ought to avoid those things
that lead and expose to sin — and that those things which
have a special tendency to expose men to sin, are what we
ought to shun, as much as in us lies — yet how shall we
judge and determine what things have a natural tendency
to sin, or do especially lead to it ?
I would answer in some particulars which are plain and
easy ; and which cannot he denied without the greatest
absurdity. 1. That which borders on those sins, to which the lusts
of men's hearts strongly incline them, is of this sort. Men
come into the world with many strong and violent lusts in
their hearts, and are exceeding prone of themselves to

230

TEMPTATION AND DELIVERANCE.

transgress ; even in the safest circumstances in which they
can be placed. And surely so much the nearer they are
to that sin, to which they are naturally strongly inclined ;
so much the more are they exposed. If any of us who are
parents should see our children near the brink of some deep
pit, or close by the edge of the precipice of a high moun
tain ; and not only so, but the ground upon which the
child stood slippery, and steeply descending directly to
ward the precipice ; should we not reckon a child exposed
in such a case ? should we not be in haste to remove the
child from its very dangerous situation ?
It was the manner among the Israelites, to build their
houses with flat roofs, so that persons might walk on the
tops of their houses. And therefore God took care to make
it a law among them, that every man should have battle
ments upon the edges of their roofs ; lest any person
should fall off and be killed. Deut. xxii. 8. " When thou
buildest a new house, then thou shalt make a battlement
for thy roof, that thou bring not blood upon thine house,
if any man fall from thence." And certainly we ought to
take the like care that we do not fall into sin ; which car
ries in it eternal death. We should, as it were, fix a battle
ment, a guard, to keep us from the edge of the precipice.
Much more ought we to take care, that we do not go upon
a roof that is not only without battlements, but when it is
steep, and we shall naturally incline to fall. — Men's lusts
are like strong enemies, endeavouring to draw them into
sin. If a man stood upon a dangerous precipice, and had
enemies about him, pulling and drawing him, endeavour
ing to throw him down ; would he, in such a case, choose
or dare to stand near the edge ? Would he look upon him
self safe, close on the brink ? Would henot endeavour, for
his own safety, to keep at a distance?
2. Those things that. tend to feed lusts in the imagina
tion, are of this kind. — They lead and expose men to sin.
Those things that have a natural tendency to excite in the
mind the imagination of that which is the object of the
lust, certainly tend to feed and promote that lust. What
can be more evident, than that a presenting of the object
tends to stir up the appetite? Reason and experience
teach this. — Therefore, all things, whether words or actions,
which have a tendency and expose to sin, tend also to raise
in the mind imaginations of what the lust tends to. It is
certainly wrong to feed a lust, even in the imagination. It
is quite contrary to the holv rules of God's words. Prov.
xxiv. 9. " The thought of foolishness is sin." Matt. v. 28.
" Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath
committed adultery." A man, by gratifying his lusts in his
imagination and thoughts, may make his soul in the sight
of God to be a hold of foul spirits, and like a cage of
every unclean and hateful bird. And sinful imaginations
tend to sinful actions, and outward behaviour in the end.
Lust is always first conceived in the imagination, and then
brought forth in the outward practice. You may see the
progress of it in Jam. i. 15. " Then when lust hath con
ceived, it bringeth forth sin." — Such things are abominable
in the sight of a pure and holy God. We are com
manded to keep at a great distance from spiritual pollu
tion ; and to hate even the very " garment spotted with the
flesh." Jude 23.
3. Those things that the experience and observation of
mankind show to be ordinarily attended or followed with
sin, are of this sort. Experience is a good rule to deter
mine by in things of this nature. How do we know the
natural tendency of any thing, but by observation and ex
perience? Men observe and find, that some things are
commonly attended and followed with other things ; and
hence mankind pronounce, that they have a natural ten
dency to them. We have no other way to know the ten
dency of any thing. Thus men by observation and experi
ence know that the warmth ofthe sun, and showers of rain,
are attended with the growth of plants; and hence they
learn, that they have a tendency to it. So they find by ex
perience, that the bite of some kinds of serpents is com
monly followed with illness, and often with death ; and
hence they learn, that the bite of such serpents has a
natural tendency to bring disorder upon the body, and
exposes to death. — And so,.if experience and common ob
servation shows, that any particular practice or custom is
commonly attended with that which is very sinful, we

may safely conclude that such a practice tends to sin ; that
it leads and exposes to it.
Thus we may determine that tavern-haunting and gaming
are things that tend to sin ; because common experience
and observation show, that those practices are attended
with a great deal of sin and wickedness. The observation
of all ages and all nations, with one voice, declares it. It
shows, where taverns are much frequented for drinking and
the like, they are especially places of sin, of profaneness,
and other wickedness ; and it shows, that those towns,
where there is much of this, are places where no good
generally prevails. And it also shows, that those persons
that are given much to frequenting taverns are most com
monly vicious persons. And so of gaming ; as playing at
cards, experience shows, that those persons that practise
this, do generally fall into much sin. Hence these prac
tices are become infamous among all sober virtuous
persons. 4. Another way by which persons may determine of
some things, that they lead and expose to sin, is by their
own experience, or what they have found in themselves 
This surely is enough to convince them, that such things
actually lead and expose to sin ; for what will convince
men, if their own experience will not ? Thus if men have
found by undeniable experience, that any practice or
custom stirs up lust in them, and has betrayed them into
foolish and sinful behaviour, or sinful thoughts ; they may
determine that they lead to sin. If they, upon examining
themselves, must own that a custom or practice has dis
posed them to the omission of known duty, such as secret
or family prayer, and has indisposed them to reading and
religious meditation — or if they find, since they have com
plied with such a custom, they are less watchful of their
hearts, less disposed to any thing that is serious ; that the
frame of their mind is _ more light, and their hearts less
disposed on the things "of another world, and more after
vanity — these are sinful effects; and therefore if experi
ence shows a custom or practice to be attended with these
things, then experience shows that they lead and expose
to sin.
5. We may determine whether a thing be of an evil
tendency or not, by the effect that an outpouring of the
Spirit of God, and a general flourishing of religion, has
with respect to it. If this puts a stop to any practice or
custom, and roots it out ; surely it argues, that that prac
tice or custom is of no good tendency. For if there be no
hurt in it, and it tends to no hurt, why should the Spirit of
God destroy it? The Spirit of God has no tendency to
destroy any thing that is neither sinful, nor has any
tendency to sin. Why should it 1 Why should we sup
pose, that he is an enemy to that which has no hurt in it ;
nor has any tendency to that which is hurtful?
The flourishing of religion has no tendency to abolish
or expel any thing that is no way against religion. That
which is not against religion, religion will not appear
against. It is a rule that holds in all contraries and oppo-
sites : the opposition is equal on both sides. So contrary
as light is to darkness, so contrary is darkness to light. So
contrary as the flourishing of religion is to any custom,
just so contrary is that custom to the flourishing of religion.
That custom that religion tends to destroy, that custom, if
it prevail, tends also to destroy religion. Therefore, if the
flourishing of religion, and the outpouring of the Spirit
of God, tends to overthrow any custom, that takes place
or prevails, we may surely determine, that that custom is
either in itself sinful, or tends and exposes to evil.
6. We may determine, by the effect that a general decay
of religion has with respect to them, whether they be things
of a sinful tendency or not. If they be things that come
with a decay of religion, that creep in as that decays, we
may determine they are things of no good tendency. The
withdrawing of good does not let in good but evil. Evil,
not good, comes in, as good gradually ceases. What is it
but darkness that comes in, as light withdraws ?
Therefore, if there be any decay of religion in the town,
or in particular persons, and upon this, anv certain customs
or practices take place and are allowed, which were wholly
abstained from and renounced, when religion was in a
more flourishing state ; we may safely conclude that such
customs and practices are contrary to the nature of true

Sect. III.

A SERIOUS WARNING TO ALL.

231

religion ; and therefore in themselves sinful, or tending to
sin. 7. We may in many things determine whether any cus
tom be of a good tendency, by considering what the effect
would be, if it was openly and universally owned and
practised. There are many things which persons practise
somewhat secretly, and which they plead to be not hurtful ;
but which if they had suitable consideration to discern the
consequence of every body openly practising the same,
would soon show a most woeful state of things. If there
fore there be any custom, that will not bear universal open
practice and profession ; we may determine that that cus
tom is of an ill tendency. For if it is neither sinful in
itself, nor tends to any thing sinful, then it is no matter
how open it is : for we need not be afraid of that custom
being too prevalent and universal, that has no ill tendency
in it. SECT. III.
A serious warning to all, and especially young people.
Th us I have mentioned some general rules, by which to
determine and judge, what things are of a bad and sinful
tendency. And these things are so plain, that for a person
to deny them, would be absurd and ridiculous. — I would
now, in the name of God, warn all persons to avoid such
things, as appear by these rules to lead and expose to sin.
And particularly, I would take occasion to warn young
people, as they would approve themselves fearers of God, to
avoid all such things in company, that being tried by these
rules, will appear to have a tendency to sin. Avoid all
such ways of talking and acting as have a tendency to this ;
and follow the example of Joseph. Not only gross acts
of uncleanness, but all degrees of lasciviousness, both in
talking and acting, are strictly forbidden in Scripture ; as
what should not be so much as once named among saints
or Christians. Gal. v. 9. " Now the works of the flesh are
manifest, adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lascivious
ness." Eph. v. 3, 4, 5. " But fornication, and all unclean
ness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh
saints ; neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting,
which are not convenient ; for this ye know, that no whore
monger, nor unclean person, hath any inheritance in the
kingdom of Christ, and of God." We should hate even
the garments spotted with the flesh, i. e. should hate and
shun all that, in the least degree, approaches to any such
thing. And I desire that certain customs, too common among
voung people, may be examined by those rules that have
been mentioned. That custom in particular, of young
people of different sexes reclining together — however little
is made of it, and however ready persons may be to laugh
at its being condemned — if it be examined by the rules
that have been mentioned, it will appear, past all contra
diction, to be one of those things that lead and expose to
sin. And I believe experience and fact abundantly bear
witness to it. It has been one main thing that has led to
the growth of uncleanness in the land. And there are
other customs and liberties, customarily used among young
people in company, which they who use them know that
they lead to sin. They know that they stir up their lusts ;
and this is the very end for which they do it, to gratify
their lusts in some measure. Little do such persons con
sider, what a holy God they are soon to be judged by, who
abominates the impurities of their hearts. — If therefore
they do actually stir up and feed lust, then certainly they
tend to further degrees and more gross acts. That which
stirs up lust, makes it more violent, and does therefore
certainly the more expose persons to be overcome by it.
How evident and undeniable are these things ; and how
strange that any should make a derision of them !
Possibly you may be confident of your own strength ;
and may think with yourself, that you are not in danger,
that there is no temptation in these things, but what you
are able easily to overcome. But you should consider that
the most self-confident are most in danger. Peter was
very confident that he should not deny Christ, but how
dreadfully otherwise was the event ! If others that have
fallen into gross sins, should declare how it was with
them ; doubtless they would say, that they at first thought

there was no danger ; they were far from tlie thought that
ever they should commit such wickedness; but yet by
venturing further and further, they fell at last into the
foulest and grossest transgressions. Persons may long
withstand temptation, and be suddenly overcome at last.
None so much in danger, as the most bold. They are
most safe, who are most sensible of their own weakness ;
most distrustful of their own hearts ; and most sensible of
their continual need of restraining grace. Young persons,
with respect to the sin of uncleanness, are dealt with by
the devil, just as some give an account of serpents charm
ing birds and other animals down into their mouths. If
the serpent takes them with his eyes, though they seem to
be affrighted by it, yet they will not flee away, but will
keep the serpent in sight, and approach nearer and nearer
to him, till they fall a prey.
Another custom that I desire may be examined by the
fore-mentioned rules, is that of young people of both sexes
getting together in companies for mirth, and spending the
time together till late in the night, in their jollity. I de
sire our young people to suffer their ears to be open
to what I have to say upon this point; as I am the
messenger of the Lord of hosts to them ; and not deter
mine that they will not hearken, before they have heard
what I shall say. I hope there are but few persons among
us so abandoned, as to determine that they will go on in a
practice, whether they are convinced that it is unlawful
or not ; or though it should be proved to them to be un
lawful by undeniable arguments. — Let us then examine
this custom and practice by what has been said. It has
been proved undeniably, that we ought not to go on in a
practice that leads and exposes to sin ; and rules have
been laid down to judge what does thus expose and lead
to it, whicb I think are plain and undeniable. Certainly
a Christian will not be unwilling to have his practices ex
amined and tried by the rules of reason and God's word ;
but will rather rejoice in it. And I desire particularly
that the practice may be tried by that sure touch-stone of
experience. This is one of the rules of trial that have
been mentioned ; that any custom which the experience
and observation of mankind show to be ordinarily attend
ed with sin, may be concluded to be unlawful. And if
we look abroad in the country, I doubt not but these two
things will be found.
1. That as to those places, where there is most of this
carried on among young people, (as there is more of it in
some places than others,) it wili be found, as a thing that
universally holds, that the young people there are common
ly a loose, vain, and irreligious generation ; little regarding
God, heaven or hell, or any thing but vanity. And that
commonly in those towns where most frolicking is carried
on, there are the most frequent breakings out of gross sins ;
fornication in particular.
2. If we go though the country, we shall for the most
part find, that those persons who are most addicted to this
practice, are the furthest from serious thought, and are
the vainest and loosest upon other accounts. And whence
should this be, if such a practice was not sinful, or had
not a natural tendency to lead persons into sin.
Now I appeal to those who have made pretences to se
rious religion and saving piety. You have formerly pre
tended to keep up religion in your closets, and in your
own souls ; now seriously ask yourselves whether or no
you have not found, that this practice has indisposed you
to serious religion, and taken off your minds from it ? Has
it not tended to your neglect of secret prayer ? And, if
you have not wholly neglected it, have you not found, that
you have been abundantly more ready to turn it off in any
manner, and glad to have done with it ? more backward
to reading and serious meditation, and such things ? And,
that your mind has been exceedingly diverted from religion,
and that for some time ? — I do not send you far off to find
out whether this custom be not of bad tendency — not be
yond the sea, but your own breast ; there let the matter be
determined. Let us now try this custom by the effect which the out
pouring of the Spirit of God on a people has with respect
to it. This we are under great advantage to do ; because
there has lately been, in this place, the most remarkable
outpouring of the Spirit of God, that has ever been in

232

TEMPTATION AND DELIVERANCE.

New England, and it may be in the world, since the
apostles' days. And it is well known, that before then,
the custom did prevail in the town ; but after, the custom
was altogether laid aside ; and was so for several years. —
No account can be given why the Spirit of God, and the
flourishing of religion, should abolish such a custom, unless
that custom be either in its nature or tendency an enemy
to the Spirit of God, and to religion. — The fruits of the
Spirit of God are good, and therefore it is good that this
custom should be removed ; for this is plainly one of the
effects. And if so, it is because the custom is bad, either
in its nature or tendency ; otherwise there would be no
good in its being removed. The Spirit of God abolished
this custom for this reason, because if it had been kept up
in the town, it would have had a direct tendency to hinder
that work which the Spirit was about to do amongst us.
This was undeniably the reason.
Supposing such a custom had been begun and set up,
by the young people all over the town, in the midst
of the time of the late outpouring of the Spirit, all of a
sudden ; would any wise persons, that have truly the cause
of religion at heart, rejoiced at it ? Would not every one
have concluded, without any hesitation, that there was
great danger that it would take off people's minds from
religion, and make them vain ; and so put an end to the
flourishing of religion 7 Would not every considerate
person have thought thus of it ? And if such a cus
tom would have had an ill tendency then, so it will
now. Objection. The town is not in such circumstances now,
as it was then : it might have done hurt then, by putting
an end to the great concern ; but now it may do no hurt ;
for there is now no such great concern to be interrupted
by it.
Answer. Though the town is not in such circumstances
now as it was then, yet there ought to be as much engaged
ness of mind about religion, as much concern among
sinners, and as much engagedness among the godly, as
then ; and it is to our shame that there is not. And if
such a practice would have tended to destroy such a re
ligious concern then, it certainly tends to prevent it now.
It is a rule that will hold, that what has a tendency to de
stroy a thing when it is, tends to prevent when it' is not.
And are we not praying from sabbath to sabbath, and from
day to day, for such a concern again ? And do not those
who pretend to be converted, and yet have lately set up
this custom, pray for the same ? Are you a convert, a
saint, and yet not desire that there should be any more
pouring out of the Spirit of God ? The town has cause
to be ashamed of such converts, if it has any such. And
if ye do, why do you do what tends to prevent it.
Again, Let this practice be tried by the effect that a
general decay of religion has with respect to it. Now we
have a trial : it is now a time that religion is greatly de
cayed amongst us; and the effect is, that this custom
comes in with this decay. Young people begin again to
set up their old custom of frolicking, (as it is called,) and
spending a great part of the night in it, to the violation of
family order. What is the reason, if this custom is not '
bad, either in its nature or tendency, that it did not come
in before, when religion was lively ? Why does it stay till
it can take the advantage of the withdrawment of religion ?
This is a sign that it is a custom that shuns a spirit of live
ly religion, as darkness shuns the light, and never comes
in till light withdraws.
And here again, I would send persons to their own
experience. How did this practice come in with you in
particular ; you, that two or three years ago seemed to be
so engaged in religion ? Did it not come in, did vou not
begin to practise it, as the sense of religion wore off? And
what is the matter? Why did not you set up the practice
then, when your heart was taken up about reading, medi
tation, and secret prayer to God 7 If this do not at ail
stand in the way of them, and is no hinderance to
them, why was you not engaged in both together 7 What
account can you give of it 7 Why did you leave off this
practice and custom, or abstain from it 7 To what purpose
is this changing ? One while it must be avoided as evil,
and another while practised and pleaded for as good ?
Tlie making such an alteration does not look well, nor will

it be for the honour of religion in the eye of the world.
For whether the practice be lawful or not, yet such a thing
will surely be improved to our disadvantage. For your
avoiding it then has this appearance in the eye of the
country, that then you condemned it ; and therefore your
now returning to it, will appear to them as backsliding in
you. Such changelings are evermore, in the eye of the
world, greatly to the dishonour of their profession, let it be
what it will.
Indeed, this custom, as it is practised, does not only tend
to sin, but is in itself very disorderly, sinful, and shameful.
For it is attended late in the night, and in the dead of the
night, to the neglect of family prayer, and violating all
family order; which is disorder and profaneness. Is it
lawful to rob God of his ordinary sacrifices, for the sake of
your pleasure, diversion, and jollity ? Are you of that
mind, that it is a decent thing that the stated worship of the
great God should give way to your mirth, and your diver
sions? Is this the way of God's holy children? Thoseworks
that are commonly done in the dead of night, seem to have
a black mark set upon them by the apostle, and Christians
are exhorted to avoid them, Rom. xiii. 12, 13. "Let us
cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the
armour of light. Let us walk honestly, as in the day ; not
in rioting and drunkenness ; not in chambering and
wantonness." The word here rendered rioting is of far
different signification from the term, as used in our laws ;
for the forcible doing an unlawful thing, by three or more
persons assembled together for that purpose. But the
word here properly signifies, a disorderly convention of
persons in order to spend their time together in pleasure
and jollity. So the word is commonly used in Scripture :
Prov. xxiii. 20. " Be not amongst riotous eaters of flesh."
Prov. xxviii. 7. " He that is a companion of riotous men,
shameth his father." Luke xv. 13. — " wasted his sub
stance with riotous living." — Again, a black mark seems to
be set on such in Scripture, as in 1 Thess. v. 5 — 7. " Ye
are all the children of light, and the children of the day :
we are not of the night, nor of darkness. Therefore let us
not sleep, as do others ; but let us watch and be sober.
For they that sleep, sleep in the night ; and they that be
drunken are drunken in the night."
Many of you that have lately set up this practice of
frolicking and jollity, profess to be children of the light
and of the day ; and not to be the children of darkness.
Therefore walk, as in the day ; and do not those works of
darkness, that are commonly done at unseasonable hours
of the night. Such things are not only condemned by the
apostle, but are looked upon as infamous in all ages
among sober people, as all past writings manifest. There
fore it is a thing of bad report, and so forbidden. Phil.
iv. 8. " Whatsoever things are of good report ; if there be
any virtue — any praise, think on these things."
Objection. But the wise man allows of this practice,
when he says, Eccles. iii. 4. " There is a time to mourn
and a time to dance."
Answer. This is nothing to the purpose ; for the ut
most that any can pretend that it proves, is that it may be
used under some circumstances ; but not at all, that dancing
and other things used by our young people in their frolics
are lawful, in those circumstances : any more than what
is said in the same chapter, ver. 3. — " there is a time to
kill," proves that it is lawful for a man to commit murder.
— To deny that dancing, under any circumstances what
ever, was lawful, would be absurd ; for there was a re
ligious dancing in the Jewish chureh, which was a way of
expressing their spiritual mirth. So David danced before
the Lord. And he calls upon others to praise God in the
dance. So there mav be other circumstances wherein
dancing may not be unlawful. But all this makes nothing
to the present purpose ; to prove that this particuiar cus
tom is not of a bad tendency. Besides, when the wise
man says, " there is a time to dance," that does not prove,
that the dead of the night is the time for it. The same
wise man doth not justify carnal mirth, but condemns it.
Eccl. ii. 2. " I said of laughter, it is mad; and of mirth,
what doth it?"
Objection. If we avoid all such things, it will be the
way for our young people to be ignorant how to behave
themselves in company.

Sect. IV.

A SERIOUS WARNING TO ALL.

233

Answer. But consider what this objection comes to.
It certainly comes to this, viz. That the pouring out of the
Spirit of God upon a people, tends to banish all good
conduct, good breeding, and decent behaviour from among
them; and to sink them down into clownishness and
barbarity ! The Spirit of God did actually put an end to
this practice among us — But who is not ashamed to make
such an objection ? Will any of our young converts talk
thus ? Will you, that think you were converted by the
late pouring out of the Spirit of God, and are made holy
persons, heirs of eternal life, talk so blasphemously
of it?
If our young people are resolute still to go on notwith
standing all that has been said, I hope that those of them
who call themselves converted, will first find out some
rational, satisfying answer to the arguments that have been
used against it. This at least may he reasonably expected
of them, seeing they make such a profession. You have
this day been partaking of the sacrament of the Lord's
supper, and therein solemnly renewed your profession. —
If after such light set before you, and such mercy given,
you will go on, be it known to you, that your eating now,

and at other times, will prove only an eating and drinking
judgment to yourselves.
And I desire heads of families, if they have any govern
ment over their children, or any command of their own
houses, would not tolerate their children in such practices,
nor suffer such conventions in their houses. — I do not de
sire that young people should be abridged of any lawful
and proper liberties. But this custom can be of no benefit
or service in the world : it tends only to mischief. — Satan
doubtless would be glad to have such an interest amongst
us as he used to have ; and is therefore striving to steal in,
while we are sleeping : but let us rouse up ourselves, and
vigorously oppose his encroachments. I shall repeat those
words of the apostle, Rom. xiii. 12 — 14. and leave them
to the serious consideration of all persons, old and young.
" The night is far spent, the day is at hand ; let us there
fore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the
armour of light. Let us walk honestly as in the day, not
in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wan
tonness, not in strife and envying. But put ye on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to
fulfil the lusts thereof."

THE PRECIOUSNESS OF TIME,

IMPORTANCE OF REDEEMING IT.*

Eph. v. 16.
Redeeming the time.
Christians should not only study to improve the op
portunities they enjoy, for their own advantage, as those
who would make a good bargain ; but also labour to re
claim others from their evil courses ; that so God might
defer his anger, and time might be redeemed from that
terrible destruction, which, when it should come, would
put an end to the time of divine patience. And it may
be upon this account, that this reason is added, Because
the days are evil. As if the apostle had said, the corrup
tion of the times tends to hasten threatened judgments ;
but your holy and circumspect walk will tend to redeem
time from the devouring jaws of those calamities. — How
ever, thus much is certainly held forth to us in the words ;
viz. Tnat upon time we should set a high value, and be
exceeding careful that it be not lost ; and we are therefore
exhorted to exercise wisdom and circumspection, in order
that we may redeem it. And hence it appears, that time
is exceedingly precious. SECT. I.
Why time is precious.
Time is precious for the following reasons :
1 . Because a happy or miserable eternity depends on
the good or ill improvement of it. Things are precious in
proportion to their importance, or to the degree wherein
they concern our welfare. Men are wont to set the high
est value on those things upon which they are sensible their
interest chiefly depends. And this renders time so ex
ceedingly precious, because our eternal welfare depends
on the improvement of it. — Indeed our welfare in this
world depends upon its improvement. If we improve it
not, we shall be in danger of coming to poverty and dis
grace ; but by a good improvement of it, we may obtain
• Dated, December, 1734.

those things which will be useful and comfortable. But
it is above all things precious, as our state through eternity
depends upon it. The importance of the improvement
of time upon other accounts, is in subordination to this.
Gold and silver are esteemed precious by men ; but
they are of no worth to any man, only as thereby he has
an opportunity of avoiding or removing some evil, or of
possessing himself of some good. And the greater the
evil is which any man hath advantage to escape, or the
good which he hath advantage to obtain, by , any thing
that he possesses, by so much the greater is the value of
that thing to him, whatever it be. Thus if a man, by any
thing which he hath, may save his life, which he must lose
without it, he will look upon that by which he hath the
opportunity of escaping so great an evil as death, to be
very precious. — Hence it is that time is so exceedingly
precious, because by it we have opportunity of escaping
everlasting misery, and of obtaining everlasting blessedness
and glory. On this depends our escape from an infinite
evil, and our attainment of an infinite good.
2. Time is very short, which is another thing that ren
ders it very precious. The scarcity of any commodity
occasions men to set a higher value upon it, especially if
it be necessary and they cannot do without it. Thus when
Samaria was besieged by the Syrians, and provisions were
exceedingly scarce, " an ass's head was sold for fourscore
pieces of silver, and the fourth part of a cab of dove's
dung for five pieces of silver." 2 Kings vi. 25. — So time
is the more to be prized by men, because a whole eternity
depends upon it ; and yet we have but a little of time.
" When a few years are come, then I shall go the way
whence I shall not return." Job xvi. 22. "My days are
swifter than a post. They are passed away as the swift
ships ; as the eagle that hasteth to the prey. Job ix. 25,
26. "Our life ; what is it ? it is but a vapour which ap
peared, for a little time, and then vanisheth away." Jam.
iv. 14. It is but as a moment to eternity. Time is so
short, and the work which we have to do in it is so great,

234

THE PRECIOUSNESS OF TIME.

that we have none of it to spare. The work which we
have to do to prepare for eternity, must be done in time,
or it never can be done ; and it is found to be a work of
great difficulty and labour, and therefore that for which
time is the more requisite.
3. Time ought to be esteemed by us very precious, be
cause we are uncertain of its continuance. We know that
it is very short, but we know not how short. We know
not how little of it remains, whether a year, or several
years, or only a month, a week, or a day. We are every
day uncertain whether that day will not be the last, or
whether we are to have the whole day. There is nothing
that experience doth more verify than this. — If a man had
but little provision laid up for a journey or a voyage, and
at the same time knew that if his provision should fail, he
must perish by the way, he would be the more choice of
it. — How much more would many men prize their time,
if they knew that they had but a few months, or a few
days, more to live ! And certainly a wise man will prize
his time the more, as he knows not but that it will be so
as to himself. This is the case with multitudes now in
the world, who at present enjoy health, and see no signs
of approaching death : many such, no doubt, are to die
the next month, many the next week, yea, many probably
to-morrow, and some this night ; yet these same persons
know nothing of it, and perhaps think nothing of it, and
neither they nor their neighbours can say that they are
more likely soon to be taken out of the world than others.
This teaches us how we ought to prize our time, and how
careful we ought to be, that we lose none of it.
4. Time is very precious, because when it is past, it
cannot be recovered. There are many things which men
possess, which if they part with, they can obtain them
again. If a man have parted with something which he
had, not knowing the worth of it, or the need he should
have of it ; he often can regain it, at least with pains and
cost. If a man have been overseen in a bargain, and
have bartered away or sold something, and afterwards re
pent of it, he may often obtain a release, and recover
what he had parted with. — But it is not so with respect to
time ; when once that is gone, it is gone for ever ; no
pains, no cost will recover it. Though we repent ever so
much that we let it pass, and did not improve it while we
had it, it will be to no purpose. Every part of it is suc
cessively offered to us, that we may choose whether we
will make it our own, or not. But there is no delay ; it
will not wait upon us to see whether or no we will com
ply with the offer. But if we refuse, it is immediately
taken away, and never offered more. As to that part of
time which is gone, however we have neglected to improve
it, it is out of our possession and out of our reach.
If we have lived fifty, or sixty, or seventy years, and
have not improved our time, now it cannot be helped ; it
is eternally gone from us : all that we can do, is to im
prove the little that remains. Yea, if a man have spent
all his life but a few moments unimproved, all that is
gone is lost, and only those few remaining moments can
possibly be made his own ; and if the whole of a man's
time be gone, and it be all lost, it is irrecoverable. —
Eternity depends on the improvement of time ; but when
once the time of life is gone, when once death is come,
we have no more to do with time ; there is no possibility
of obtaining the restoration of it, or another space in
which to prepare for eternity. If a man should iose the
whole of his worldly substance, and become a bankrupt,
it is possible that his loss may be made up. He may
have another estate as good. But when the time of life is
gone, it is impossible that we should ever obtain another
such time. All opportunity of obtaining eternal welfare
is utterly and everlastingly gone.

SECT. II.
Reflections on time past.
You have now heard of the preciousness of time ; and
you are the persons concerned, to whom God hath com
mitted that precious talent. You have an eternity before
you. When God created you, and gave you reasonable
souls, he made you for an endless duration. He gave

you time here in order to a preparation for eternity, and
your future eternity depends on the improvement of time.
—Consider, therefore, what you have done with your past
time. You are not now beginning your time, but a great
deal is past and gone ; and all the wit, and power, and
treasure of the universe, cannot recover it. Many of you
may well conclude, that more than half of your time is
gone ; though you should live to the ordinary age of man,
your glass is more than half run ; and it may be there
are but few sands remaining. Your sun is past the me
ridian, and perhaps just setting, or going into an everlast
ing eclipse. Consider, therefore, what account you can
give of your improvement of past time. How have you
let the precious golden sands of your glass run ?
Every day that you have enjoyed has been precious ;
yea, your moments have been precious. But have you not
wasted your precious moments, your precious days, yea
your precious years ? If you should reckon up how many
days you have lived, what a sum would there be ! and
how precious hath every one of those days been ! Con
sider, therefore, what have you done with them ? what is
become of them all ? What can you show of any im
provement made, or good done, or benefit obtained, an
swerable to all this time which you have lived ? When
you look back, and search, do you not find this past time
of your lives in a great measure empty, having not been
filled up with any good improvement ? And if God, that
hath given you your time, should now call you to an ac
count, what account could you give to him 7
How much may be done in a year ! how much good
is there opportunity to do in such a space of time ! How
much service may persons do for God, and how much for
their own souls, if to their utmost they improve it ! How
much may be done in a day ! But what have you done in
so many days and years that you have lived ? What have
you done with the whole time of your youth, you that are
past your youth? What is become of all that precious
season of life ? Hath it not all been in vain to you ?
Would it not have been as well or better for you, if all
that time you had been asleep, or in a state of non-exist
ence? You have had much time of leisure and freedom from
worldly business ; consider to what purpose you have spent
it. You have not only had ordinary time, but you have
had a great deal of holy time. What have you done with
all the sabbath-days which you have enjoyed ? Consider
those things seriously, and let your own consciences make
answer. SECT. III.
Who are chiefly deserving qf reproof from the subject qf
the preciousness qf time.
How little is the preciousness of time considered, and
how little sense of it do the greater part of mankind seem
to have ! and to how little good purpose do many spend
their time ! There is nothing more precious, and yet
nothing of which men are more prodigal. Time is with
many, as silver was in the days of Solomon, as the stones
of the street, and nothing accounted qf. They act as if time
were as plenty as silver was then, and as if they had a
great deal more than they needed, and knew not what to
do with it. If men were as lavish of their money as they
are of their time, if it were as common a thing for them to
throw away their money, as it is for them to throw away
their time, we should think them beside themselves, and
not in the possession of their right minds. Yet time is a
thousand times more precious than money ; and when it is
gone, cannot be purchased for money, cannot be redeemed
by silver or gold. — There are several sorts of persons who
are reproved by this doctrine, whom I shall particularly
mention. 1 . Those who spend a great part of their time in idle
ness, or in doing nothing that turns to any account, either
for the good of their souls or bodies ; nothing either for
their own benefit, or for the benefit of their neighbour,
either of the family or of the body-politic to which they
belong. There are some persons upon whose hands time
seems to lie heavy, who, instead of being concerned to
improve it as it passes, and taking care that it pass not

Sect. III.

THE MISIMPROVERS OF TIME REPROVED.

235

without making it their own, act as if it were rather their
concern to contrive ways how to waste and consume it ;
as though time, instead of being precious, were rather
a mere encumbrance to them. Their hands refuse to labour,
and rather than put themselves to it, they will let their
fkmilies suffer, and will suffer themseives : Prov. xix. 15.
"An idle soul shall suffer hunger." Prov. xxii. 21.
" Drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags."
Some spend much of their time at the tavern, over their
cups, and in wandering about from house to house, wasting
away their hours in idle and unprofitable talk which will
turn to no good account : Prov. xiv. 23. " In all labour
there is profit; but the talk of the lips tendeth only to
poverty. The direction ofthe apostle, in Eph. iv. 28. is,
that we should " labour, working with our hands the thing
that is good, that we may have to give to him that need-
eth." But indolent men, instead of gaining any thing to
give to him that needeth, do but waste what they have
already : Prov. xviii. 9. " He that is slothful in his work,
is brother to him that is a great waster."
2. They are reproved by this doctrine who spend their
time in wickedness, who do not merely spend their time in
doing nothing to any good purpose, but spend it to ill pur
poses. Such do not only lose their time, but they do
worse ; with it they hurt both themselves and others. —
Time is precious, as we have heard, because eternity de
pends upon it. By the improvement of time, we have
opportunity of escaping eternal misery, and obtaining
eternal blessedness. But those who spend their time in
wicked works, not only neglect to improve their time to
obtain eternal happiness, or to escape damnation, but
they spend it to a quite contrary purpose, viz. to in
crease their eternal misery, or to render their damnation
the more heavy and intolerable.
Some spend much time in revelling, and in unclean
talk and practices, in vicious company-keeping, in corrupt
ing and insnaring the minds of others, setting bad ex
amples, and leading others into sin, undoing not only
their own souls, but the souls of others. Some spend
much of their precious time in detraction and backbiting ;
in talking against others ; in contention, not only quarrel
ling themselves, but fomenting and stirring up strife and
contention. It would have been well for some men, and
well for their neighbours, if they had never done any thing
at all ; for then they would have done neither good nor
hurt. But now they have done a great deal more hurt than
they have done or ever will do good. There are some
persons whom it would have been better for the towns
where they live, to have been at the charge of maintaining
them in doing nothing, if that would have kept them in a
state of inactivity.
Those who have spent much of their time in wicked
ness, if ever they shall reform, and enter upon a different
mode of living, will find, not only that they have wasted
the past, but that they have made work for their remaining
time, to undo what they have done. How will many men,
when they shall have done with time, and shall look back
upon their past lives, wish that they had had no time !
The time which they spend on earth will be worse to them
than if they had spent so much time in hell ; for an eter
nity of more dreadful misery in hell will be the fruit of
their time on earth, as they employ it.
3. Those are reproved by this doctrine, who spend their
time only in worldly pursuits, neglecting their souls. Such
men lose their time, let them be ever so diligent in their
worldly business ; and though they may be careful not to
let any of it pass so, but that it shall some way or other
turn to their worldly profit. They that improve time only
for their benefit in time, lose it ; because time was not
given for itself, but for that everlasting duration which
succeeds it. — They, therefore, whose time is taken up in
caring and labouring for the world only, in inquiring what
they shall eat, and what they shall drink, and wherewithal
they shall be clothed ; in contriving to lay up for them
selves treasures upon earth, how to enrich themselves, how
to make themselves great in the world, or how to live in
comfortable and pleasant circumstances, while here; who
busy their minds and employ their strength in these things
only, and the stream of whose affections is directed towards
these things ; they lose their precious time.

Let such, therefore, as have been guilty of thus spend
ing their time, consider it. You have spent a great part of
your time, and a great part of your strength, in getting a
little of the world ; and how little good doth it afford you,
now you have gotten it ! What happiness or satisfaction
can you reap from it ? will it give you peace of conscience,
or any rational quietness or comfort ? What is your poor,
needy, perishing soul the better for it ? and what better
prospects doth it afford you of your approaching eternity ?
and what will all that you have acquired avail you when
time shall be no longer ?

SECT. IV.
An exhortation to improve time.
Consider what hath been said of the preciousness of
time, how much depends upon it, how short and uncer
tain it is, how irrecoverable it will be when gone. If you
have a right conception of these things, you will be more
choice of your time than of the most fine gold. Every
hour and moment will seem precious to you. — But besides
those considerations which have been already set before
you, consider also the following.
1. That you are accountable to God for your time.
Time is a talent given us by God ; he hath set us our day ;
and it is not for nothing, our day was appointed for some
work ; therefore he will, at the day's end, call us to an ac
count. We must give account to him ofthe improvement
of all our time. We are God's servants ; as a servant is
accountable to his master, how he spends his time when
he is sent forth to work, so are we accountable to God. If
men would aright consider this, and keep it in mind,
would they not improve their time otherwise than they
do ? Would you not behave otherwise than you do, if you
considered with yourselves every morning, that you must
give an account to God, how you shall have spent that
day ? and if you considered with yourselves, at the begin
ning of every evening, that you must give an account to
God, how you shall have spent that evening ? Christ hath
told us, that " for every idle word which men speak, they
shall give account in the day of judgment," Matt. xii. 36.
How well, therefore, may we conclude, that we must give
an account of all our idle mispent time !
2. Consider how much time you have lost already. For
your having lost so much, you have the greater need of
diligently improving what yet remains. You ought to
mourn and lament over your lost time ; but that is not all,
you must apply yourselves the more diligently to improve
the remaining part, that you may redeem lost time. — You
who are considerably advanced in life, and have hitherto
spent your time in vanities and worldly cares, and have
lived in a great measure negligent of the interests of your
souls, may well be terrified and amazed, when you think
how much time you have lost and wasted away. — In that
you have lost so much time, you have the more need of
diligence, on three accounts.
(1.) As your opportunity is so much the shorter. — Your
time at its whole length is short. But set aside all that you
have already lost, and then how much shorter is it ! As
to that part of your time which you have already lost, it is
not to be reckoned into your opportunity ; for that will
never be any more ; and it is no better, but worse to you,
than if it never had been.
(2.) You have the same work to do that you had at first,
and that under greater difficulties. Hitherto you have
done nothing at all of your work, all remains to be done,
and that with vastly greater difficulties and opposition in
your way than would have been if you had set about it
seasonably. So that the time in which to do your work
is not only grown shorter, but your work is grown greater.
You not only have the same work to do, but you have more
work ; for while you have lost your time, you have not only
shortened it, but you have been making work for your
selves. How well may this consideration awaken you to
a thorough care, not to let things run on in this manner
any longer, and rouse you up immediately to apply your
selves to your work with all your might !
(3.) That is the best of your time which you have lost.
The first of a man's time, after he comes to the exercise of

236

THE PRECIOUSNESS OF TIME.

his reason, and to be capable of performing his work, is the
best. You who have lived in sin till past your youth,
have lost the best part. So that here are all these things to
be considered together, viz. that your time in the whole
is but short, there is none to spare ; a great part of that is
gone, so that it is become much shorter ; that which is gone
is the best ; yet all your work remains, and not only so,
but with greater difficulties than ever before attended it ;
and the shorter your time is, the more work you have
to do.
What will make you sensible of the necessity of a dili
gent improvement of remaining time, if these things will
not ? Sometimes such considerations as these have another
effect, viz. to discourage persons, and to make them think,
that seeing they have lost so much time, it is not worth
their while to attempt to do any thing now. The devil
makes fools of them ; for when they are young, he tells
them, there is time enough hereafter, there is no need of
being in haste, it will be better seeking salvation hereafter;
and then they believe him. Afterwards, when their youth
is past, he tells them, that now they have lost so much, and
the best of their time, that it is not worth their while to
attempt to do any thing ; and now they believe him too.
So that with them no time is good. The season of youth
is not a good time ; for that is most fit for pleasure and
mirth, and there will be enough afterwards ; and what comes
afterwards is not a good time, because the best of it is gone.
Thus are men infatuated and ruined.
But what madness is it for persons to give way to dis
couragement, so as to neglect their work, because their
time is short ! What need have they rather to awake out
of sleep, thoroughly to rouse up themselves, and to be in
good earnest, that if possible they may yet obtain eternal
life ! Peradventure God may yet give them repentance to
the acknowledgment of the truth, that they may be saved.
Though it be late in the day, yet God calls upon you
to rouse, and to apply yourselves to your work ; and will
you not hearken to his counsel in this great affair, rather
than to the counsel of your mortal enemy 7
3. Consider how time is sometimes valued by those who
are come near to the end of it. What a sense of its
preciousness have poor sinners sometimes, when they are
on Iheir death-beds ! Such have cried out, O, a thousand
worlds for an inch qf time! Then time appears to them
indeed precious. An inch of time could do them no more
good than before, when they were in health, supposing a
like disposition to improve it, nor indeed so much ; for a
man's time upon a death-bed is attended with far greater
disadvantage for such an improvement as will be for the
good of his soul, than when he is in health. — But the near
approach of death makes men sensible of the inestimable
worth of time. Perhaps, when they were in health, they
were as insensible of its value as you are, and were as neg
ligent of it. But how are their thoughts altered now ! It
is not because they are deceived, that they think time to be
of such value, but because their eyes are opened ; and it is
because you are deceived and blind that you do not think
as they do.
4. Consider what a value we may conclude is set upon
time by those who are past the end of it. What thoughts
do you think they have of its preciousness, who have lost
all their opportunity for obtaining eternal life, and are gone
to hell ? Though they were very lavish of their time while
they lived, and set no great value upon it ; yet how have
they changed their judgments ! How would they value
the opportunity which you have, if they might but have it
granted to them ! What would they not give for one of
your days, under the means of grace ! — So will you, first or
last, be convinced. But if you be not convinced except in
the manner in which they are, it will be too late.
There are two ways of making men sensible of the pre
ciousness of time. One is, by showing them the reason
why it must be precious, by telling them how much de

pends on it, how short it is, how uncertain, &c. The othei
is experience, wherein men are convinced how much de
pends on the improvement of time. The latter is the most
effectual way ; for that always convinces, if nothing else
doth. — But if persons be not convinced by the former
means, the latter will do them no good. If the former be
ineffectual, the latter, though it be certain, yet is always too
late. Experience never fails to open the eyes of men,
though they were never opened before. But if they be first
opened by that, it is no way to their benefit. Let all
therefore be persuaded to improve their time to their ut
most.

SECT. V.
Advice respecting the improvement qf time.
I shall conclude with advising to three things in par
ticular. 1. Improve the present time without any delay. If you
delay and put off its improvement, still more time will be
lost ; and it will be an evidence that you are not sensible
of its preciousness. Talk not of more convenient seasons
hereafter; but improve your time while you have it, after
the example of the psalmist, Psal. cxix. 60. " I made
haste, and delayed not to keep thy commandments."
2. Be especially careful to improve those parts of time
which are most precious. Though all time is very precious,
yet some parts are more precious than others ; as, par
ticularly, holy time is more precious than common time.
Such time is of great advantage for our everlasting welfare;
therefore, above all, improve your sabbaths, and especially
the time of public worship, which is the most precious part.
Lose it not either in sleep, or in carelessness, inatten
tion, and wandering imaginations. How sottish are they
who waste away, not only their common, but holy time,
yea the very season of attendance on the holy ordinances of
God ! — The time of youth is precious, on many accounts.
Therefore, if you be in the enjoyment of this time, take
heed that you improve it. Let not the precious days and
years of youth slip away without improvement. A time of
the strivings of God's Spirit is more precious than other
time. Then God is near ; and we are directed, in Isa. Iv.
6. " To seek the Lord while he may be found, and to call
upon him while he is near." Such especially is an accept
ed time, and a day of salvation : 2 Cor. vi. 2. " I have heard
thee in a time accepted, and in a day of salvation have I
succoured thee : behold, now is the accepted time ; be
hold, now is the day of salvation."
3. Improve well your time of leisure from worldly busi
ness. Many persons have a great deal of such time, and
all have some. If men be but disposed to it, such time
may be improved to great advantage. When we are most
free from cares for the body, and business of an outward
nature, a happy opportunity for the soul is afforded.
Therefore spend not such opportunities unprofitably,
nor in such a manner that you will not be able to give
a good account thereof to God. Waste them not away
wholly in unprofitable visits, or useless diversions or
amusements. Diversion should be used only in subser
viency to business. So much, and no more, should be
used, as doth most fit the mind and body for the work of
our general and particular callings.
You have need to improve every talent, advantage, and
opportunity, to your utmost, while time lasts ; for it will
soon be said concerning you, according to the oath of the
angel, in Rev. x. 5, 6. " And the angel which I saw stand
upon the sea and upon the earth lifted up his hand to
heaven, and sware by him that liveth for ever and ever,
who created heaven, and the things that therein are, and the
earth, and the things that therein are, and the sea, and the
things which are therein, that there should be time no
longer."

PROCRASTINATION,

THE SIN AND FOLLY OF DEPENDING ON FUTURE TIME.*

Prov. xxvii. 1.
Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; for thou knowest not what
a day may bring forth.
The design of the wise man in this book of Proverbs, is
to give us the precepts of true wisdom, or to teach us how
to conduct ourselves wisely in the course of our lives.
Wisdom very much consists in making a wise improve
ment of time, and of the opportunities we enjoy. This is
often in Scripture spoken of as a great part of true wisdom ;
as Deut. xxxii. 29. " O that they were wise, that they
understood this, that they would consider their latter
end !" And Psal. xc. 12. " So teach us to number our
days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." So
the wisdom of the wise virgins is represented as consisting
much in this, that they improved the proper season to
buy oil.
Therefore the wise man in these books of Proverbs and
Ecclesiastes, agreeably to his design, insists on this part of
wisdom. He tells us the advantage of seeking Christ
early; Prov. viii. 17. And advises us " to do what our
hand findeth to do, with our might ;" Eccles. ix. 10. He
advises young people to remember their Creator in the
days of their youth, while the evil days come not, in which
they shall say they have no pleasure; Eccles. xii. 1. So
here he advises us to a wise improvement of the present
season. — In the words are two things to be particularly
observed. 1 . The precept, not to boast qf to-morrow ; i.e. not to
speak or act as though it were our own. It is absurd for
men to boast of that which is not theirs. The wise man
would not have us behave ourselves as though any time
were ours but the present. He that boasts of to-morrow,
acts as though he had to-morrow in his possession, or
had something whereby he might depend on it, and call it
his own.
2. The reason given for this precept ; for thou knowest
not what a day may bring forth. It is a good reason why
we should not behave ourselves as though the morrow
were our own, that indeed it is not ; we are not sure of it;
we have no hold of future time ; we know not whether we
shall see the morrow : or if we do know that we shall
see it, we know not what we shall see on it. — Hence, we
ought to behave ourselves every day, as though we had no
dependence on any other.

SECT. I.
Needful precautions.
To prevent a misunderstanding of tlie doctrine, I ob
serve that it is not meant, that we should in every respect
behave as though we knew that we should not live an
other day. Not depending on another day, is a different
thing, from concluding, that we shall not live another day.
We may have reason for the one, and not for the other.
We have good reason not to depend on another day, but
we have no reason to conclude, that we shall not live
another day.
In some respects we ought to carry ourselves, as though
we know we should not live another day, and should im-
* Not dated.

prove every day as if it were the last. Particularly, we
should live every day as conscientiously and as holily as
if we knew it were the last. We should be as careful
every day to avoid all sin, as if we knew that that night
our souls should be required of us. We should be as
careful to do every duty which God requires of us, and take
as much care that we have a good account to give to our
Judge, of our improvement of that day, as if we concluded
that we must be called to give an account before another
day. But in many other respects, we are not obliged to
behave ourselves as though we concluded that we should
not live to another day. If we had reason to con
clude that we should not live another day, some things
would not be our duty which now are our duty. As for
instance, in such a case it would not be the duty of any
person to make provision for his temporal subsistence
during another day : to neglect which, as things now are,
would be very imprudent and foolish, as the consequences
would show, if every man were to act in this manner. If
so, it would never be man's duty to plough or sow the
field, or to lay up for winter ; but these things are man's
duty ; as Prov. vi. 6. " Go to the ant, thou sluggard ;
consider her ways, and be wise : which having no guide,
overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and
gathereth her food in the harvest." And chap. x. 5, &c.
" He that gathereth in the summer is a wise son : but he
that sleepeth in harvest, is a son that causeth shame." And
many other places might be mentioned.
So, on the other hand, if we were certain that we should
not live another day, some things would be our duty to
day, which now are not so. As for instance, it would be
proper for us to spend our time in giving our dying coun
sels, and in setting our houses in order. If it were re
vealed to us, that we should die before to-morrow morning,
we ought to look upon it as a call of God to us, to spend
the short remainder of our lives in those things which
immediately concern our departure, more than otherwise it
would be our duty to do. — Therefore, the words which
forbid us to boast of to-morrow, cannot be extended so far
as to signify, that we ought in all respects to live, as if we
knew we should not see another day. Yet they undoubt
edly mean, that we ought not to behave ourselves in any
respect, as though we depended on another day.

SECT. II.
The precept explained.
Boast not thyself qf to-morrow. In this precept two
things seem to be forbidden.
1 . Boasting ourselves of what shall be on the morrow,
or behaving ourselves as though we depended on particu
lar things to come to pass in this world, in some future
time. As when men behave themselves, as though they
depended on being rich, or promoted to honour hereafter :
or as though they were sure of accomplishing any particu
lar design another day. So did the rich man in the
gospel, when he did not only promise himself, that he
should live many years, but promised himself also, that
he should be rich many years. Hence he said to his soul,
that he had much goods laid up for many years.

THE SIN AND FOLLY OF PROCRASTINATION.

238 And if men act as though they depended upon it, that
they should another day accomplish such and such things
for their souls, then may they be said to boast themselves
of to-morrow, and not to behave themselves as though they
depended on no other day. As when they behave them
selves, as though they depended upon it, that they should
at another day have such and such advantages for the good
of their souls ; that they should at another day have the
strivings of God's Spirit ; that they should at another day
find themselves disposed to be thorough in seeking their
salvation ; that they should at another day have a more
convenient season ; and that God at another day would
stand ready to hear their prayers, and show them mercy.
Or if they act as though they depended upon it that they
should have considerable opportunity on a death-bed to
seek mercy ; or whatever they promise themselves should
come to pass respecting them in this world, if they act as
depending on it, they boast themselves of to-morrow.
2. Another thing implied, is our boasting of future time
itself, or acting as though we depended on it, that we should
have our lives continued to us another day. Not only is
the command of God delivered in the text transgressed by
those who behave themselves as depending upon it, that
they shall see and obtain such and such things to-morrow ;
but by those who act as depending upon it, that they shall
remain in being in this world to-morrow.
Both these ways of boasting of to-morrow are reproved
by the apostle James, chap. iv. 13. "Go to now, ye that
say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city, and
continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get gain." By
promising themselves that they shall do such and such
things, and that they shall get gain, they boast themselves
of what shall come to pass in such a time. The apostle in
the next verse teaches them, that they ought not to do
this, no nor so much as depend upon seeing another day,
or on having their lives continued, ver. 14. " Whereas ye
know not what shall be on the morrow : for what is your
life 7 It is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time,
and then vanisheth away." And in ver. 15. he teaches us
that both are uncertain and dependent on the will of God,
viz. Whether we shall live another day, and if we do,
whether such and such things shall come to pass ? " For
that you ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and
do this or that." Therefore he adds in ver. 16. " But now
you rejoice in your boastings : all such rejoicing is evil."

SECT. III.
When men act as though they depend on another day.
1. They will do so, if they set their hearts on the en
joyments of this life. I mean not, if they have any man
ner of affection to them. We may have some affection to
the enjoyments of this world ; otherwise they would cease
to be enjoyments. If we might have no degree of rejoicing
in them, we could not be thankful for them. Persons may
in a degree take delight in earthly friends, and other
earthly enjoyments. It is agreeable to the wise man's ad
vice that we should do so, Eccles. v. 18. " It is good and
comely for one to eat and to drink, and to enjoy the good
of all this labour that he taketh under the sun. '—But by
setting our hearts on these things, by placing our happiness
on them, and letting out the current of our affections after
them — by turning and fixing our inclinations so much upon
them, that we cannot well enjoy ourselves without them,
so that very much of the strength of the faculties of our
minds is employed and taken up about these things — we
show that we have our dependence on another day.
The man who doth thus, acts as though he depended on
another day, yea many other days, in the world ; for it is
most evident, that if the enjoyments of this world be of
such a nature that they are not to be depended on for one
day more, they are not worth the setting of our hearts upon
them, or the placing of our happiness in them. We may
rejoice in the enjoyments of the world, but not in such a
manner as to place the rest of our souls in them. As the
apostle saith, we should rejoice in them as though we re
joiced not, 1 Cor. vii. 30. So that if this joy should fail,
our stock may hold good ; and in this case we must be
have ourselves only as if we had lost a small stream of

joy, but still had the fountain in full possession. We
should conduct ourselves as those who have not the foun
dation of their joy shaken, though some appurtenances
have faiied. Our happiness as to the body of it, if I may
so speak, should yet stand as on an immovable founda
tion. They who are very much pleased and elated with the
enjoyments of the world, certainly behave themselves as
though they had much dependence on their continuance
for more than one or two days more — They who addict
themselves to vain mirth, and lead a jovial life, show that
they set their hearts on the enjoyments of the world, and
act as those who depend on more days than the present.
For if they were sensible that they could not depend on
any future time, but that death would put an eternal end
to all their carnal mirth before to-morrow, they would have
no heart to spend the present day in such a manner as
they now do. It would immediately produce in them a
disposition far from levity and vanity.
And when persons are very much sunk with the loss of
any temporal enjoyments, or with any temporal disappoint
ments, it shows that they set their hearts upon them,
and behave as though they hoisted of to-morrow, and
depended on their long continuance in life. If they had
no such dependence, they would not be frustrated, or
would not be overwhelmed by their frustration. If they
be very much sunk, and the comfort of their lives be de
stroyed by it, it shows that those temporal enjoyments
were too much the foundation on which their comfort
stood. That which makes a building totter, and threatens
its destruction, is not the taking away of some of the ex
terior parts of the superstructure, but the removal of some
considerable part of the foundation on which the house
stands. 2. If men are proud of their worldly circumstances, it
shows that they have a dependence on to-morrow ; for no
man would think it worth his while to vaunt himself in
that which is to be depended on only for a day. Though
a man have a great estate to-day, he will not be puffed up
with it, unless he depend upon having it to-morrow. A
man who hath no dependence, but that he may to-morrow
be in the grave, where the small and great are upon a level,
Job iii. 19. will not be much lifted up with his advance
ment to a post of honour.
That person will not be proud of his rich and fine
clothes, who is sensible that he may be stripped by death
to-morrow, and sent out of the world, as he came naked
into it. He will not to-day be very proud of his personal
beauty, who hath no dependence on escaping to-morrow
that stroke of death which will mar all his beauty, and
make that face which he now thinks so comely, appear
ghastly and horrid ; when instead of a ruddy and florid
countenance, there will be the blood settled, cold and con
gealed, the flesh stiff and clayey, the teeth set, the eyes
fixed and sunk into the head. Nor will he to-day very
much affect to beautify and adorn with gaudy and flaunt
ing apparel, that body concerning which he is sensible
that it may be wrapped in a winding sheet to-morrow, to be
carried to the grave, there to rot, and be covered and filled
with worms.
3. When men envy others their worldly enjoyments,
their wealth, their worldly ease, or their titles and high
places — their sensual pleasures, or any of their worldly
circumstances — it shows, that they set their hearts on the
things of the world ; and that they are not sensible that
these things are not to be depended upon for another day.
If they were, they would not think them worth their envy.
They would appear so worthless in their eyes, that they
would not care who had them, nor who went without
them. — So when they contend about worldly possessions
and enjoyments, (as almost all the contentions that are in
the world are about these things,) it shows that they have
dependence on to-morrow ; otherwise they would not think
the enjoyments of the world worth contending about. They
would be very much of the temper recommended by Jesus
Christ, Matt. v. 40. " He lhat will sue thee at the law,
and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also."
4. Men behave themselves as if they depended on an
other day, when they rest at ease to-day, in a condition
out of which they must be delivered before they die. When

Sect. III.

WHEN THE PRECEPT IS VIOLATED.

239

a man's mind is at rest, there is something that he rests
in : it must have some foundation, either real or imaginary.
But if the man be in a condition from which he is sensible
he must some time or other be delivered, or be undone, it
is impossible that he should rest in the thoughts of remain
ing in his condition always, and never being delivered
from it : for no man is willing to be ruined ; no man can
rest in that which he conceives to be connected with his
own misery and undoing. — Therefore, if he rest in such a
condition for the present, it must be on a supposition, that
he shall be delivered from it. If he rest in it to-day, it
must be because he depends on being delivered another
day, and therefore depends on seeing another day.
We in this land generally profess, that as we are by
sinful nature, we are exposed to eternal death, and that
therefore there is a necessity that we get out of a naturai
condition some time before we die. And those among us
who are sensible that they have never passed through any
such change as in Scripture is called a being born again,
though they be not sufficiently convinced that there is any
such place as hell, yet have a kind of belief of it ; at least
they do not conclude that there is no such place, and
therefore cannot but be sensible that it would be dreadful
to die unconverted. Therefore, if they be in a considerable
degree of ease and quietness in their condition, it must be
because they have a dependence on being delivered out of
such a condition some time before they die.
Inasmuch as they are easy, remaining in such a condi
tion to-day, without any prospect of present deliverance,
it shows plainly that they depend on another day. If they
did not, they could have no quietness in their spirits ; be
cause, if there be no grounds of dependence on any further
opportunity, then what they are exposed to, by missing
the opportunity which they have to-day, is infinitely dread
ful. — Persons who are secure in their sins, under the light
of the gospel, unless they be deceived with a false hope,
are generally so because they boast themselves of to-mor
row. They depend on future opportunity; they flatter
themselves with hopes of living long in the world ; they
depend on what shall come to pass hereafter ; they depend
on the fulfilment of their good intentions as to what they
will do at a more convenient season.
5. Men behave themselves as those who depend on an
other day, when they neglect any thing to-day which must
be done before they die. If there be any thing, which is
absolutely necessary to be done some time before death,
and the necessity of it be sufficiently declared and shown
to the person for whom it is thus necessary, if he neglect
setting about it immediately, sincerely, and with all his
might, certainly it carries this face with it, that the man
depends upon its being done hereafter, and consequently
that he shall have opportunity to do it. — Because, as to
those things which are absolutely necessary to be done,
there is need, not only of a possibility of a future oppor
tunity ; but of something which is to be depended on,
some good ground to conclude that we shall nave future
opportunity; therefore, whoever lives under the gospel,
and does not this day thoroughly reform his life, by cast
ing away every abomination, and denying every lust — and
doth not apply himself to the practice of the whole of his
duty towards God and man, and begin to make religion
his main business — he acts as one who depends on another
day ; because he is abundantly taught that these things
must be done before he dies.
Those who have been seeking salvation for a great while,
in a dull, insincere, and slighty manner, and find no good
effect of it, have abundant reason to conclude, that some
time before they die, they must not only seek, but strive to
enter in at the strait gate, and must be violent for the
kingdom of heaven ; and therefore, if they do not begin
thus to-day, they act as those who depend on another day.
— So those who have hitherto lived in the neglect of some
particular known duty, whether it be secret prayer, or pay
ing some old debt, which they have long owed to their
neighbour — or the duty of confessing some fault to a bro
ther who hath aught against them, or of making restitution
for some injury— they act as those who depend on another
day. 6. Men behave themselves as though they depended on
another dav, if they do that to-day which some time or

other must be undone. There are many things done by
men which must be undone by them. They must go back
again from the way which they have gone, or they are
ruined to all eternity. Therefore, in doing these things,
they act as those who depend on future opportunity to
undo them : as when a man cheats or defrauds his neigh
bour in any thing, he acts as one that boasts of to-mor
row : for he must undo what he doth before he dies ; he
must some time or other make restitution, or divine jus
tice, which oversees all things, and governs the whole
world, and will see to it that right be done, will not let go
its hold of him.
So when men hearken to temptation, and yield lo ihe
solicitations of their lusts to commit any sin, they act as
those who depend on another day. They do what must
be undone. What they then do must be undone by hearty
and thorough repentance, or they are ruined and lost for
ever. So if persons have been seeking salvation for a time,
and afterwards are guilty of backsliding, and turn back
after their hands have been put to the plough, they act as
those who depend on another day. For what they now
do, they must undo some time or other ; they must go
back again from their backsliding, and have all their work
to do over again. And these things must be undone in
this world, while men live; for there will be no undoing
of them afterwards ; they may be suffered for, but never
can be undone.
SECT. IV.
Why we ought not to boast qf to-morrow.
I come now to show, why we ought not thus to boast
ourselves of to-morrow ; but on the contrary, to behave
ourselves every day as though we had no dependence on
another. And there is this plain and sufficient reason
for it, viz. That we have no grounds of dependence on
another day. We have neither any foundation to depend
upon seeing any particular things come to pass another
day, which we may hope or wish for, nor upon enjoying
another day in this world. We have nothing for a founda
tion of dependence that we shall not be in eternity before
to-morrow, as both reason and experience show. — We
have no promise of God that we shall ever see another
day. We are in God's hands ; our lives are in his hands ;
he hath set our bounds ; the number of our months and
days are with him ; nor hath he told them to us. We
see that the life of man at longest is very short, and nothing
is more uncertain ; and it is a thing universal among man
kind, that they know not the day of their death. We see
that great natural abilities, and sharpness of wit, and clear
ness of discernment, do not help to any discovery in this
matter. Wise men are as uncertain of the term of their
lives as others.
There are so many ways and means whereby the lives
of men come to an end, that no circumstances in which a
man can be are any security to him from death. That it
is but a very little while till to-morrow, is no good ground
of dependence that we shall live till then. We see that
deaths as sudden as our dying before to-morrow morning,
are common in the world. We very often see or hear of
sudden deaths. How many suddenly, in a few minutes,
pass from a state of health to a state of death, in the day
time, by several kinds of disease, which give no warning of
their approach, and by many unforeseen accidents ! How
many go to sleep in health, and are found dead in their
beds in the morning ! So that our present health is no
good ground of dependence that we shall live to see an
other day. — That persons are now in youth is no good
ground of dependence upon another day ; for sudden un
expected deaths are common even among those who are
in the bloom of youth. Nor is it any ground of depen
dence in this case, that a man is of a more than ordinary
healthy and strong constitution. It is found by expe
rience, that such are liable to sudden death as well as
others : Job xxi. 23. " One dieth in his full strength. His
breasts are full of milk, and his bones are moistened with
marrow." That persons have already lived to see a great many
days, and that after they had been often in times past
told, that they were uncertain of any future time; or

THE SIN AND FOLLY OF PROCRASTINATION.

240
that persons have a strong desire to live longer ; or that
they are now very unprepared for death, both on temporal
and spiritual accounts ; is no ground of dependence on
the future. Death tarries for no man, but comes when
and to whom he is sent, and strikes the deadly blow, whe
ther the man be prepared or not. That men have been
very useful in their day, and that it is of great importance
to their families and neighbours that they should live
longer, is no ground of dependence. The most useful
men are often cut down by death, in the midst of their
usefulness. The same may be said, though we cannot
see which way death should come at us before to-morrow.
To how many accidents, to how many diseases, are we
liable, which may prove fatal before to-morrow, which yet
it is impossible for us to foresee ! So, if we be very care
ful of our lives, and our health, not to expose ourselves
to any dangers, still this is no ground of dependence as to
any future time. Death comes in many ways which were
not thought of. Men foresee not the means of their
death, any more than the fish securely swimming in the
water foresee the net, or the bird that securely feeds upon
the bait sees the snare. It is as the wise man observes,
in Eccles. ix. 12. " For man also knoweth not his time;
as the fishes that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds
that are caught in the snare ; so are the sons of men snared
in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them."

SECT. V.
Serious inquiries.
I shall improve this doctrine, by putting you upon
examining yourselves, whether you do not boast your
selves of to-morrow, or whether you do not live in such a
manner as you would not, were it not that you depend on
future time and future opportunity in the world. Would
not your behaviour be very different from what it now is,
if you every day lived and acted without any dependence
on seeing one day more ? — You cannot but acknowledge
it to be most reasonable, that you should live and act
thus. You cannot but own, that you have no good ground
of dependence on another day ; and therefore that you
cannot act wisely any otherwise than in acting as one who
hath no dependence on any such thing. Therefore inquire
whether you act wisely and reasonably in this respect.
1. Do you not set your hearts much more on this
world, than you would, if you had no dependence on the
morrow? Is not the language of the rich man in the
gospel, the secret language of your hearts ? " Soul, thou
hast much goods laid up for many years," &c. Is not
this the language of your hearts, with respect to what you
have gotten already ; which makes you place your happi
ness so much in it? And with respect to what of the
world you are seeking and pursuing, is it not with a de-
Eendence on enjoying it for a great while, when you shall
ave obtained it? Are not your lands and other pos
sessions which you have gotten, or are about to get, in
your own imagination, yours for a gi'eat while ? — Would
your mind be so filled with thoughts and cares about
these things, so much to the exclusion of another world ;
would you lay yourselves under so great disadvantages
for your soul's good, by involving yourselves in worldly
cares ; if you had no dependence on having any thing to
do with these things for more than the present day ? If
you did not depend on considerably more time in the
world, would your inquiry be so much, What shall we
eat, and what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we
be clothed 7 and so little, How shall we make our calling
and election sure? how shall we be assured that we are
upon a good foundation for another world, and that we
are in such a state, that death cannot hurt us ? How shall
we be sure that we are ready to appear before the judg
ment-seat of a heart-searching God ? — Would there be
so much of your time spent in laying up treasure on
earth — and so little in laying up treasure in heaven, that
you might have store against tne day of death — were it
not that you put death at a distance ? Would you be so
much raised at your temporal prosperity, and so much
sunk when you meet with crosses and disappointments in
your worldly affairs, if you did not think that continuance

in the world is to be depended on for more days than the
present? — Let those who very much affect to adorn their
bodies in gaudy apparel, inquire whether they would think
it worth their while to spend so much time to make them
selves fine, and to set themselves forth as gayer than others,
if they really had no dependence that their bodies would
be preserved one day longer from being clasped in the
cold arms of death ?
2. Inquire, whether you would not much less meddle
with the concerns of others, and be much more employed
with your own hearts, if each day you had no dependence
on living another day. If you were sensible that you had
had no other day to depend upon than this, you would be
sensible that you had great affairs of your own to attend
to. You would find a great deal of business at home be
tween God and your own soul ; and considering that you
cannot depend on another day, it would seem to you that
you have but a short time in which to do it, and that
therefore you have need to be much engaged. You would
say as Christ did, I must work while the day lasts, for
the night cometh, wherein no man can work. You would
find so much to be done, and so much difficulty in doing
it, that you would have little leisure, and little heart, to
intermeddle with the business of others. Your business
would be confined to a much narrower compass. You
would have so much to do at home in your closets, and
with your own hearts, that you would find no occasion to
go abroad for intermeddling business to fill up your time.
But the truth is, men conceive of a great deal of time
which they have to be filled up, and hence they want
business : they depend on to-morrow, and the day follow
ing, and next month, and next year, yea many years to
come. When they are young they depend on living to be
middle-aged, and when middle-aged they depend on old
age, and always put far away the day of death. Let them
be young or old, there always seems to them to be a great
vacancy between them and death ; hence they wander to
and fro for business to fill up that vacancy. — Whereas if
they were sensible of the uncertainty of life, they would,
in the first place, make sure of their own business ; the
business of their own precious, immortal souls would be
done, before thev would attend much to the business of
other people. They would have no desire or disposition
to concern themseives with every private quarrel which
breaks out in the neighbourhood. They would not think
it much concerned them to inquire into the matter, and to
pass their censure on the affair. They would find some
thing else to do, than to set by the hour together, discuss
ing and censuring the conduct of such and such persons,
gathering up or rehearsing the stories which are carried
about to the disadvantage of this and that person.
We seldom, if ever, see men who are upon sick-beds,
and look upon themselves very dangerously sick, disposed
to spend their time in this manner ; and the reason is,
that they look upon it doubtful whether they shall live
long. They do not, so much as others, depend on much
time to spare ; hence their minds are taken up more about
their own souls' concerns, than about the concerns of
others. So it would be with persons in health, if their
health did not make them depend on a great deal of time
in the world.
3. If you each day depend on no other but the present,
would you not engage and interest yourselves much less
in party designs and schemes, than you are now wont to
do ? Among a people divided into two parties, as this
town hath been for a long time, there is commonly much
done by the partizans in forming schemes of opposition
to one another. There is always a strife, who snail get
their wills and carry their point. This often engages
them, if not in open quarrels, in secret intrigues. That
there is so much done in these things, is a certain evi
dence that they boast themselves of to-morrow, and put
death at a distance.
Men would certainly find themselves very much indis
posed to such things, if they were so sensible of the un
certainty of life, as to depend on no other day than the
present. It is therefore very proper, that you should ex
amine yourselves in this particular, at this time. If you
really depended on no other day than the present, would
your hearts be so much engaged in strife between two

Sect. V.

SERIOUS INQUIRIES.

241

parties, as they often are ? Would your spirits be so often
raised and ruffled 7 Would you go about with so much
prejudice against such and such men : harbouring so much
of the old leaven, which so often breaks out in heats of
spirit ; and, as an old sore which was skinned over, but
not cured, sets to raging with a touch which would not
have hurt sound flesh ? — Commonly in the management
of a strife between two parties, there is a great deal of
envy. When any who belong to one of the parties seem
to prosper, the other party will envy them ; it is a grievous
thing to them. So there is also much contempt ; when
one of the parties gets the ascendant a little over the other,
ffiey are ready to make the utmost improvement of it, and
to insult the other party. — And there is commonly in such
cases a great deal of mutual secret reproach. When those
of one party get together, then is the time to inveigh
against those of the other party, and to set forth their in
justice and their fraudulent practices. Then is the time
for them to pass their censure on their words and actions.
Then is the time to expose their own surmises and suspi
cions of what the other party intends, what it aims at in
such and such things, what the purposes of individuals
are, and what they suppose their secret actions are. — Then
is the time for all lhat are friends in the cause, and en
gaged in the same designs, to entertain one another by
ridiculing the words and actions of the other party, and to
make themselves sport of their folly and disappointments ;
and much is done at calling one another Ruca and fools,
or other names equivalent, if not much more than equiva
lent. Then is the time to lay their heads together, to plot
and contrive how they shall manage such an affair go as to
disappoint the other party, and obtain their own wills.
Brethren, these things ought not so to be among a chris
tian people ; especially among a people that has made the
profession which we have made. Nor would they be so if
it were not for your dependence on much future time in
the world. If you were so sensible of your continual
liableness to death, that every day was the last you de
pended upon, these things certainly would not be so. For
let us but consider what are the effects of death with
respect to such things. It puts an end to party-quarrels.
Many men hold these quarrels as long as they live. They
begin young, and hold on through many great and sore
afflictions and chastisements of Providence. The old sore
remains, when the supporters of nature bow, and tlie eyes
grow dim, and the hands tremble with age. But death,
when that comes, puts an end to all their quarrelling in
this world. Death silences the most clamorous, and cen
sorious, and backbiting tongue. When men are dead, they
cease to lay schemes against those of another party ; death
dashes all their schemes, so far as they have any concern
in them. Psal. cxlvi. 4. " His breath goeth forth, he
returneth to his earth; in that very day his thoughts
perish." When men are dead, they cease to bite and devour
others ; as it is said to have been of old aproverb among
the Egyptians, Dead' men do not bite. There are many
who will bite and devour as long as they live, but death
tames them. Men could not be quiet or safe by them
while alive, but none will be afraid of them when dead.
The bodies of those that made such a noise and tumult
when alive, when dead, lie as quietly among the graves of
their neighbours as any others. Their enemies, of whom
they strove to get their wills while alive, get their wills of
them when they are dead. Nothing can please their ene
mies better than to have them out of their way. It suits
them, that those who were so troublesome to them, are
iocked up safe in the close grave, where they will no more
stand in their way. — There are no more effects of their
pride, their craftiness, their hatred and envy. Eccles. ix.
6. " Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy is
now perished.
The time will soon come, when you who have for many
years been at times warmly contending one with another,
will be very peaceable as to this world. Your dead bodies
will probably lie quietly together in the same burying
place. If you do not leave off contending before death,
now natural will it be for others to have such thoughts as
these, when they see your corpses ; What ! is this the man
who used to be so busy in carrying on the designs of his
VOL. II. R"

party? Oh, now he has done; now he hath no more
any part in any of these things ; now it doth not at all
concern him, who get their Wilis, or what party is upper
most. We shall hear his voice no more in our town meet
ings. He will not sit any more to reproach and laugh at
others. He is gone to appear before his Judge, and to
receive according to his conduct in life. — The considera
tion of such things as these would certainly have a mighty
effect among us, if we did not put far away the day of
death. If all acted every day as not depending on any
other day, we should be a peaceable, quiet people.
4. Inquire, whether or no you do not allow yourselves
in some things, and endeavour to flatter yourselves that
there is no evil in them, which you would by no means
dare to do if you had not a dependence on living till to
morrow. It is very common among men, when they are
strongly enticed to some sinful practice, by their worldly
interest, or by their carnal appetites, to pretend that they
do not think there is any evil in it ; when indeed they
know better. - Their pretence is only to serve a present
turn. And if they expected to have their souls required
of them that night, they would by no means dare to per
sist in the practice. — Therefore examine the liberties you
take by this test. What would you think of them, if you
now should have the following news sent you by some
messenger from heaven ; John, or Thomas, (or whatever
your name be,) this night shall thy soul be required of
thee. How would such tidings strike you ! How would
they alter the face of things f Doubtless your thoughts
would be very quick ; you would soon begin to reflect on
yourselves, and to examine your past and present con
duct. And in what colours would the liberties you now
take, appear to you in the case now supposed ? Would
you then conclude, that there is no evil in them ? Would
you not be less bold to go forward and meet death, for
having continued in such practices 7 Would you dare to
commit such acts again before you die, which now you
pretend are lawful 7 Would not the few hours which you
would have to live, be at all the more uncomfortable to
you for having done such things ? Would you not pre
sently wish that you had let them alone ? Yea, would
they not appear frightful and terrifying to you 7 If it be
thus, it is a sign that the reason why you now allow your
selves in them, and plead for their lawfulness, is that you
put death at a distance, and depend on many other days
in the world.
5. Inquire, whether you do not some things on the pre
sumption, that you shall hereafter repent of them. Is not
this the very thing which causes you to dare to do some
things ? Is it not the very ground on which you venture to
gratify your lusts ? Let young people examine all their
secret carriage ; what they do alone in the dark and in
secret corners. God knoweth, and your own hearts know,
though men do not. Put the question impartially to your
own consciences ; is not this the very thing that gives you
courage, that God is very merciful, and that he often of
his sovereign mercy gives repentance of great sins, and
even wilful sins, and in consequence of repentance for
gives ? And so you hope that one day or other he will do
so to you. You intend some time hereafter earnestly to
seek ; and you hope you shall be awakened. And if you
be very earnest, as you intend to be, you hope you shall
be converted, and then you shall be forgiven, and it will
be as well as if you had never committed such sins.
If this be the case, consider how you boast of to-morrow,
and foolishly depend on future opportunity to repent, as
well as foolishly presume on the mercy of God to give you
repentance, at the same time that you take a course to pro
voke God, for ever to give you up to a sealed hardness
and blindness, and to a most fearful damnation ; not con
sidering that God will glorify his revenging justice as well
as his mercy ; nor remembering the sad example of Esau,
" who for a morsel of meat sold his birthright ; and after
wards, when he would have inherited the blessing, he was
rejected, for he found no place of repentance, though he
sought it carefully with tears." Heb. xii. 16, 17.
6. Inquire, whether you improve this day, as one who
doth not depend upon ever having opportunity to keep
another sabbath, or to hear or read another discourse. It
appears from what hath been already said, that you have no

242

THE SIN AND FOLLY OF PROCRASTINATION.

grounds to depend on any more such opportunities. Now
the day is present, and so you are in the better capacity to
determine how it is with you. It is but for you lo reflect
upon yourselves, to look inward, and see how itis with you
at this present time. And how is it ? Are you as strict and
as diligent in keeping this sabbath, watching your thoughts,
keeping your hearts, striving in duties both public and
private, and improving ordinances, as might be expected of
one who hath no dependence on ever enjoying such an
opportunity any more ; one who doth not depend on ever
setting foot again within the walls of God's house 7 — Do
you attend to this address with that care, and desire, and
endeavour to improve it for your good, as you would, if
you did not depend upon it, that your bodies would not
be in the grave, and your souls fixed in eternity, in their
unalterable state, before the next sabbath ?
7. Are you careful to see to it that the grounds of your
hope are good ? A man who hath some hope of being in a
state of acceptance with God, but is not sure, if he had no
dependence on any other day's opportunity of making it
sure, would be very strict in examining himself and search
ing the grounds of his hope, and would not rest in an un
certainty. He would be very thorough in informing himself
what might be depended on as good evidence of an interest
in Christ, and what not; and would be exceedingly strict
in searching his own heart, to see whether there was any
thing in him that comes up to the requisites laid down in
the Scriptures. — If what appears hopeful in him were dim
and obscure, he would set himself very earnestly to obtain
that which would be more clear and manifest, and would
cry earnestly to God for it, and would apply himself to a
diligent use of means in order to it. And good reason why ;
for he depends on no other opportunity to make his call
ing and election sure, than what he hath to-day. Inquire
therefore whether you be thus thorough in examining your
hope. And are you thus careful effectually to see to it,
that you are on a sure foundation 7 If not, then you be
have yourselves as those that depend on to-morrow.

SECT. VI.
How to spend every day.
God hath concealed from us the day of our death, with
out doubt, partly for this end, that we might be excited to
be always ready, and might live as those that are always
waiting for the coming of their Lord, agreeably to the
counsel which Christ gives us, Matt. xxiv. 42, 43, 44.
xxv. 13. and Mark xiii. 32, &c. — That watchman is not
faithful who, being set to defend a house from thieves, or a
city from an enemy at hand, will at any hour venture to
sleep, trusting that the thief or the enemy will not come.
Therefore it is expected of the watchman, that he behave
himself every hour ofthe night, as one who doth not depend
upon it that the enemy will tarry until the next hour.
Now therefore let me, in Christ's name, renew the call and
counsel of Jesus Christ to you, to watch as those that know
not what hour your Lord will come. Let me call upon
you who are hitherto in an unrenewed condition. De
pend not upon it, that you will not be in hell before to
morrow morning. You have no reason for any such
dependence ; God hath not promised to keep you from it,
or to withhold his wrath so long.
How can you reasonably be easy or quiet for one day, or
one night, in such a condition, when you know not but
your Lord will come this night ? And if you should then
be found, as you now are, unregenerate, how unprepared
would you be for his coming, and how fearful would be
the consequence! Be exhorted therefore, for your own
sakes, immediately to awake from the sleep of sin, out of
sleep, and sleep no more, as not depending on any other
day. — Let me exhort you to have no dependence on any
future time ; to keep every sabbath, and to hear every
-sermon, as if it were the last. And when you go into your

closet, and address yourself to your Father who seeth in
secret, do it in no dependence on any future opportunity
to perform the same duty. When vou that are young go
into company for amusement and diversion, consider that
it may be the last opportunity of the like nature that ever
you may have. In all your dealings with your neighbours,
act as if you were never to make another bargain. Behave
in your families every day, as though you depended on no
other. — Here I shall offer you two motives.
1. Consider, if you will hearken to this counsel, how
much it will tend to your safety and peace in life and death.
It is the way really and truly to be ready for death ; yea,
to be fit to live or fit to die ; to be ready for affliction and
adversity, and for whatever God in his providence shall
bring upon you. It is the way to be in, not only an ha
bitual, but actual preparedness for all changes, and parti
cularly for your last change. — It is the way to possess your
souls in a serene and undisturbed peace, and to enable you
to go on with an immovable fortitude of soul, to meet the
most frightful changes, to encounter the most formidable
enemies, and to be ready with unshaken confidence to
triumph over death whenever you meet him ; to have your
hearts fixed, trusting in God, as one that stands on a firm
foundation, and hath for his habitation the munition of
rocks, that is not afraid of evil tidings, but laughs at the
fear of the enemy. It will be the way for you to possess
that quietness and assurance spoken of, Isa. xxxii. 17.
" The work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect
of righteousness, quietness and assurance for ever." — The
servant who always stands watching, will not be at all
surprised at the news that his Lord is coining. This will
be the way for you to live above the fear of death. Yea, if
heaven and earth should shake, you may stand firm and
unshaken, being settled on a rock, which cannot be re
moved, but abideth for ever. O how happy are such per
sons, who have such safety and peace ! What a blessed
peace is that which arises from such a constant preparation
for death ! How happy therefore is that servant whom his
Lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing !
2. What dismal calamities and miseries mankind are
subject to for want of this, for want of behaving themselves
every day, as not depending on any future day ! The way
of the world is, one day foolishly to depend on another, yea
on many others. And what is the consequence ? Why, the
consequence with respect to the greater part ofthe world is,
that they live all their days without any true peace or rest
of soul. They are all their lifetime subject to bondage
through fear of death. And when death sensibly ap
proaches they are put into a terrible fright. They have a
dismal view of their past lives ; the ill improvement ot
their time, and the sins they have been guilty of, stand
staring them in the face, and are more frightful to them
than so many devils. And when they look forward into
that eternity whither they are going, how dismal is the
prospect 1 0 how do their hearts shrink at the thought
of it ! They go before the judgment-seat of God, as those
that are dragged thither, while they would gladly, if they
could, hide themselves in the caves and dens of the earth.
And what is worse yet than all the disquietude and ter
ror of conscience in this world; the consequence of a con
trary behaviour, with respect to the bulk of mankind, is
their eternal perdition. They flatter themselves that they
shall see another day, and then another, and trust to that,
until finally most of them are swallowed up in hell, to la
ment their folly to all eternity, in the lake that burneth
with fire and brimstone.— Consider how it was with all
the foolish virgins who trusted to the delay of the bride
groom's coming : when he came they were surprised, and
found unprepared, having no oil in their lamps; and while
they went to buy, those who were ready went in with
him to the marriage ; and the door was shut against them,
and they came afterwards crying in vain, Lord, Lord, open
to us.

THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM

THE TRUE CHRISTIAN'S LIFE A JOURNEY TOWARDS HEAVEN."

Heb. xi. 13, 14.
And confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the
earth. For they that say such things, declare plainly
that they seek a country.
The apostle is here setting forth the excellencies of the
grace of faith, by the glorious effects and happy issue of
it in the saints of the Old Testament. He had spoken in
the preceding part of the chapter particularly, of Abel,
Enoch, Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob.
Having enumerated those instances, he takes notice that
" these all died in faith, not having received the promises,
but having seen them afar off, were persuaded of them,
and embraced them, and confessed that they were stran
gers," &c. — In these words the apostle seems to have a
more particular respect to Abraham and Sarah, and their
kindred, who came with them from Haran, and from Ur
of the Chaldees, as appears by the 15th verse, where the
apostle says, " and truly if they had been mindful of that
country from whence they came out, they might have had
opportunity to have returned."
Two things may be observed here :
1. What these saints confessed of themselves, viz. that
they were strangers and pilgrims on tlie earth. — Thus we
have a particular account concerning Abraham, " I am a
stranger and a sojourner with you." f And it seems to
have been the general sense of the patriarchs, by what
Jacob says to Pharaoh. " And Jacob said to Pharaoh,
The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred
and thirty years : few and evil have the days of the
years of my life been, and have not attained to the days
of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of
their pilgrimage."! "I am a stranger and a sojourner
with thee, as all my fathers were."§
2. The inference that the apostle draws from hence, viz.
that they sought another country as their homo. " For they
that say such things, declare plainly that they seek a coun
try." In confessing that they were strangers, they plainly
declared that this is not their country ; that this is not the
place where they are at home. And in confessing them
selves to be pilgrims, they declared plainly that this is not
their settled abode ; but that they have respect to some
other country, which they seek, and to which they are
travelling.

SECT. I.
That this life ought to be so spent by us, as to be only a
journey or pilgrimage towards heamen.
Here I would observe,
1 . That we ought not to rest in the world and its enjoy
ments, but should desire heaven. We should " seek first
the kingdom of God."|| We ought above all things to
desire a heavenly happiness; to be with God ; and dwell
with Jesus Christ. Though surrounded with outward
enjoyments, and settled in families with desirable friends
and relations ; though we have companions whose society
is delightful, and children in whom we see many promising
qualifications ; though we live by good neighbours, and
are generally beloved where known ; yet we ought not to
take our rest in these things as our portion. We should

* Sept 1733. t Gen. xxiii. 4.

t Gen. xlvii. 9.
2

§ Ps. xxxix. 12.

be so far from resting in them, that we should desire to
leave them all, in God's due time. We ought to possess,
enjoy, and use them, with no other view hut readily to
quit them, whenever we are called to it, and to change
them willingly and cheerfully for heaven.
A traveller is not wont to rest in what he meets with,
however comfortable and pleasing, on the road. If he
passes through pleasant places, flowery meadows, or shady
f roves ; he does not take up his content in these things,
ut only takes a transient view of them as he goes along.
He is not enticed by fine appearances to put off the thought
of proceeding. No, but his journey's end is in his mind. If
he meets with comfortable accommodations at an inn, he
entertains no thoughts of settling there. He considers that
these things are not his own, that he is but a stranger, and
when he has refreshed himself, or tarried for a night, he is
for going forward. And it is pleasant to him to think that
so much of the way is gone.
So should we desire heaven more than the comforts and
enjoyments of this life. The apostle mentions it as an
encouraging, comfortable consideration to Christians, that
they draw nearer their happiness. " Now is our salvation
nearer than when we believed." — Our hearts ought to be
loose to these things, as that of a man on a journey ; that
we may as cheerfully part with them, whenever God calls.
" But this I say, brethren, the time is short, it remaineth,
that both they that have wives be as though they had
none ; and they that weep, as though they wept not ; and
they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they
that buy, as though they possessed not ; and they that use
this world, as not abusing it ; for the fashion of this world
passeth away."1T — These things are only lent to us for a
iittle while, to serve a present turn ; but we should set our
hearts on heaven, as our inheritance for ever.
2. We ought to seek heaven, by travelling in the way
that leads thither. This is a way of holiness. We should
choose and desire to travel thither in this way and in no
other ; and part with all those carnal appetites which, as
weights, will tend to hinder us. " Let us lay aside every
weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let
us run with patience the race set before us."** .However
pleasant the gratification of any appetite may be, we must
lay it aside, if it be a hinderance, or a stumbling-block
in the way to heaven.
We should travel on in the way of obedience to all
God's commands, even the difficult as well as the easy ;
denying all our sinful inclinations and interests. The way
to heaven is ascending ; we must be content to travel up
hill, though it be hard and tiresome, and contrary to the
natural bias of our flesh. We should follow Christ ; the
path he travelled, was the right way to heaven. We
should take up our cross and follow him, in meekness and
lowliness of heart, obedience and charity, diligence to do
good, and patience under afflictions. The way to heaven
is a heavenly life ; an imitation of those who are in heaven,
in their holy enjoyments, loving, adoring, serving, and
praising God and the Lamb. Even if we could go to
heaven with the gratification of our lusts, we should prefer
a way of holiness and conformity to the spiritual self-deny
ing rules of the gospel.
3. We should travel on in this way in a laborious man
ner. — Long journeys are attended with toil and fatigue ;
especially if through a wilderness. Persons in such a case
II Matt vi. 33. 1 1 Cor. vii. 29, 31), *» Heb. xii. 1.

244

THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM.

expect no olher dian to suffer hardships and weariness. —
So we should travel in this way of holiness, improving our
time and strength, to surmount the difficulties and obsta
cles that are in the way. The land we have to travel
through, is a wilderness ; there are many mountains,
rocks, and rough places that we must go over, and there
fore there is a necessity that we should lay out our strength.
4. Our whole lives ought to be spent in travelling this
road. — We ought to begin early. This should be the first
concern, when persons become capable of acting. W hen
they first set out in the world, they should set out on this
journey. — And we ought to travel on with assiduity. It
ought to be the work of every day. _ We should often
think of our journey's end ; and make it our daily work to
travel on in the way that leads to it. — He who is on a
journey, is often thinking of the destined place ; and it is
his daily care and business to get along ; and to improve
his time to get towards his journey's end. Thus should
heaven be continually in our thoughts ; and the immediate
entrance or passage to it, viz. death, should be present with
us. — We ought to persevere in this way as long as we live.
" Let us run with patience the race that is set before
us."* Though the road be difficult and toilsome, we
must hold out with patience, and be content to endure
hardships. Though the journey be long, yet we must not
stop short ; but hold on till we arrive at the place we seek.
Nor should we be discouraged with the length and diffi
culties of the way, as the children of Israel were, and be
for turning back again. All our thought and design should
be to press forward till we arrive.
5. We ought to be continually growing in holiness ; and
in that respect coming nearer and nearer to heaven. — We
should be endeavouring to come nearer to heaven, in being
more heavenly ; becoming more and more like the inhabit
ants of heaven, in respect of holiness and conformity to
God ; the knowledge of God and Christ ; in clear views of
the glory of God, the beauty of Christ, and the excellency
of divine things, as we come nearer to the beatific vision. —
We should labour to be continually growing in divine
love — that this may be an increasing flame in our hearts,
till they ascend wholly in this flame — in obedience and a
heavenly conversation ; that we may do the will of God on
earth as the angels do in heaven ; in comfort and spiritual
joy ; in sensible communion with God and Jesus Christ.
Our path should be as " the shining light, that shines more
and more to the perfect day."f We ought to be hungering
and thirsting after righteousness ; after an increase in
righteousness. " As new-bom babes, desire the sincere
milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby."! The per
fection of heaven should be our mark. " This one thing I
do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching
forth unto those things that are before, I press toward the
mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ
Jesus. "§
6. All other concerns of life ought to be entirely subor
dinate to this. — When a man is on a journey, all the steps
he takes are subordinated to the aim of getting to his
journey's end. And if he carries money or provisions with
him, it is to supply him in his journey. So we ought
wholly to subordinate all our other business, and all our
temporal enjoyments, to this affair of travelling to heaven.
When any thing we have becomes a clog and hinderance to
us, we should quit it immediately. The use of our worldly
enjoyments and possessions, should be with such a view,
and in such a manner, as to further us in our wav heaven
ward. Thus we should eat, and drink, and clothe our
selves, and improve the conversation and enjoyment of
friends. And whatever business we are setting about,
whatever design we are engaging in, we should inquire
with ourselves, whether this business or undertaking will
forward us in our way to heaven ? And if not, we should
quit our design. SECT. II.
Why the Christian's life is a journey, or pilgrimage ?
1. This world is not our abiding place. Our continu
ance here is but very short. Man's days on the earth are
• Heb. xii I t Prov. iv. 18. [ l Pet ii. 2.

as a shadow. It was never designed by God that this
world should be our home. Neither did God give us these
temporal accommodations for that end. If God has given
us ample estates, and children or other pleasant friends, it
is with no such design, that we should be furnished here,
as for a settled abode ; but with a design that we should
use them for the present, and then leave them in a very
little time. When we are called to any secular business,
or charged with the care of a family, if we improve our
lives to any other purpose, than as a journey toward
heaven, all our labour will be lost. If we spend our lives
iu the pursuit of a temporal happiness ; as riches or sensual
pleasures ; credit and esteem from men ; delight in our
children, and the prospect of seeing them well brought up,
and weli settled, &c. — All these things will be of little sig-
nificancy to us. Death will blow up all our hopes, and
will put an end to these enjoyments. " The places that
have known us, will know us no more :" and " the eye
that has seen us, shall see us no more." We must be taken
away for ever from all these things ; and it is uncertain
when : it may be soon after we are put into the possession
of them. And then, where will be all our worldly employ
ments and enjoyments, when we are laid in the silent
grave? " So man lieth down and riseth not again, till the
heavens be no more."||
2. The future world was designed to be our settled and
everlasting abode. There it was intended that we should
be fixed ; and there alone is a lasting habitation, and a last
ing inheritance. The present state is short and transitory;
but our state in the other world, is everlasting. And as
we are there at first, so we must be without change. Our
state in the future world, therefore, being eternal, is of
so much greater importance than our state here, that all
our concerns in this world should be wholly subordinated
to it.
3. Heaven is that place alone where our highest end,
and highest good, is to be obtained. God hath made us
for himself. " Of him, and through him, and to him are
all things." Therefore, then do we attain to our highest
end, when we are brought to God : but that is by being
brought to heaven ; for that is God's throne, the place of his
special presence. There is but a very imperfect union with
God to be had in this world, a very imperfect knowledge
of him in the midst of much darkness ; a very imperfect
conformity to God, mingled with abundance of estrange
ment. Here we can serve and glorify God but in a very
imperfect manner ; our service being mingled with sin,
which dishonours God. — But when we get to heaven, (if
ever that be,) we shall be brought to a perfect union with
God, and have more clear views of him. There we shall
be fully conformed to God, without any remaining sin ;
for " we shall see him as he is." There we shall serve
God perfectly ; and glorify him in an exalted manner, even
to the utmost of the powers and capacity of our nature.
Then we shall perfectly give up ourselves to God ; our
hearts will be pure and holy offerings, presented in a flame
of divine love.
God is the highest good of the reasonable creature ; and
the enjoyment of him is the only happiness with which our
souls can be satisfied.— To go to heaven, fully to enjoy
God, is infinitely better than the most pleasant accommo
dations here. Fathers and mothers, husbands, wives, or
children, or the company of earthly friends, are but
shadows ; but the enjoyment of God is the substance.
These are but scattered beams ; but God is the sun. These
are but streams ; but God is the fountain. These are but
drops ; but God is the ocean.— Therefore it becomes us to
spend this life only as a journey towards heaven, as it be
comes us to make the seeking of our highest end and pro
per good, the whole work of our lives ; to which we should
subordinate all other concerns of life. Why should we
labour for, or set our hearts on, any thing eise, but that
which is our proper end, and true happiness ?
4. Our present state, and all that belongs to it, is design
ed by him that made all things, to be wholly in order to
another world — This world was made for a place of pre
paration for another. Man's mortal life was given him,
that he might be prepared for his fixed state. And all that

§ Phil, iii 13, 14.

Job xiv. 12.

Sect. III.

INFERENCES OF INSTRUCTION.

245

God has here given us, is given to this purpose. The sun
shines, and the rain falls upon us ; and the earth yields her
increase to us for this end. Civil, ecclesiastical, and family
affairs, and all our personal concerns, are designed and
ordered in subordination to a future world, by the maker
and disposer of all things. To this therefore they ought to
be subordinated by us. SECT. III.
Instruction afforded by the consideration, that life is _
journey, or pilgrimage, towards heaven.
1. This doctrine may teach us moderation in our
mourning for the loss of such dear friends, who, while they
lived, improved their lives to right purposes. — If they lived
a holy life, then their lives were a journey towards heaven.
And why should we be immoderate in mourning, when
they are got to their journey's end ? Death, though it ap
pears to us with a frightful aspect, is to them a great bless
ing. Their end is happy, and better than their beginning.
" The day of their death is better to them than the day of
their birth."* While they lived, they desired heaven, and
chose it above this world, or any of its enjoyments. For
this they earnestly longed, and why should we grieve that
they have obtained it ? — Now they have got to their Fa
ther's house. They find more comfort a thousand times,
now they are got home, than they did in their journey. In
this worid they underwent much labour and toil ; it was
a wilderness they passed through. There were many diffi
culties in the way ; mountains and rough places. It was
laborious and fatiguing to travel the road ; and they had
many wearisome days and nights ; but now they have got
to their everlasting rest. " And I heard a voice from
heaven, saying unto me, Write, blessed are the dead which
die in the Lord, from henceforth : yea, saith the Spirit,
that they may rest from their labours ; and their works do
follow them.''f They look back upon the difficulties,
and sorrows, and dangers of life, rejoicing that they have
surmounted them all.
We are ready to look upon death as their calamity, and
to mourn, that those who were so dear to us, should be in
the dark grave ; that they are there transformed to corrup
tion and worms ; taken away from their dear children and
enjoyments, &c. as though they were in awful circum
stances. But this is owing to our infirmity ; they are in a
happy condition, inconceivably blessed. They do not
mourn, but rejoice with exceeding joy : their mouths are
filled with joyful songs, and they drink at rivers of plea
sure. They find no mixture of grief, that they have
changed their earthly enjoyments, and the company of
mortals, for heaven. Their life here, though in the best
circumstances, was attended with much that was adverse
and afflictive : but now there is an end to all adversity.
" Thev shall hunger no more, nor thirst any more ; neither
shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb
which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and
shall lead them unto living fountains of waters : and God
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes."!
It is true, we shall see them no more in this world, yet
we ought to consider that we are travelling towards the
same place ; and why should we break our hearts that
they have got there before us ! We are following after
them, and nope, as soon as we get to our journey s end,
to be with them again, in better circumstances. A degree
of mourning for near relations when departed is not in
consistent with Christianity, but very agreeable to it ; for
as long as we are flesh and blood, we have animal propen
sities and affections. But we have just reason that our
mourning should be mingled with joy. " But I would
not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them
that are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others that
have no hope: § (i. e.) that they should not sorrow as the
. heathen, who had no knowledge of a future happiness. This
appears by the following verse ; " for if we believe that
Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep
in Jesus, will God bring with him."

* Eccles, vii. 1.

t Rev. xiv. 13.

Rev. vii. 16, 17.

2. If our lives ought to be only a journey towards
heaven ; how ill do they improve their lives, that spend
them in travelling towards hell ! — Some men spend their
whole lives, from their infancy to their dying day, in going
down the broad way to destruction. They not only draw
nearer to hell as to time, but they every day grow more
ripe for destruction ; they are more' assimilated to the in
habitants of the infernal world. While others press for
ward in the strait and narrow way to life, and laboriously
travel up the hill toward Zion, against the inclinations
and tendency of the flesh ; these run with a swift career
down to eternal death. This is the employment of every
day, with all wicked men ; and the whole day is spent in
it. As soon as ever they awake in the morning, they set
out anew in the way to hell, and spend every waking mo
ment in it. They begin in early days. " The wicked are
estranged from the womb, they go astray as soon as they
are born, speaking lies." || They hold on it with perse
verance. Many of them who live to be old, are never
weary in it ; though they live to be a hundred years old,
they will not cease travelling in the way to hell, till they
arrive there. And all the concerns of life are subordinated
to this employment. A wicked man is a servant of sin ;
his powers and faculties are employed in the service of sin,
and in fitness for hell. And all his possessions are so
used by him as to be subservient to the same purpose.
Men spend their time in treasuring up wrath against the
day of wrath. Thus do all unclean persons, who live in
lascivious practices in secret ; all malicious persons ; all
profane persons, that neglect the duties of religion. Thus
do all unjust persons ; and those who are fraudulent and
oppressive in their dealings. Thus do all backbiters and
revilers ; all covetous persons, that set their hearts chiefly
on the riches of this world. Thus do tavern-haunters,
and frequenters of evil company ; and many other kinds
that might be mentioned. Thus the bulk of mankind are
hasting on in the broad way to destruction ; which is, as
it were, filled up with the multitude that are going in it
with one accord. And they are every day going into hell
out of this broad way by thousands. Multitudes are con
tinually flowing down into the great lake of fire and brim
stone, as some mighty river constantly disembogues its
water into the ocean.
3. Hence when persons are converted, they do but be
gin their work, and set out in the way they have to go. — ¦
They never till then do any thing at that work in which
their whole lives ought to be spent. Persons before con
version never take a step that way. Then does a man first
set out on his journey, when he is brought home to Christ ;
and so far is he from having done his work, that his care
and labour in his christian work and business is then but
begun, in which he must spend the remaining part of his
life. Those persons do ill, who when they are converted, and
have obtained a hope of their being in a good condition,
do not strive as earnestly as they did before, while they
were under awakenings. They ought, henceforward, as
long as they live, to be as earnest and laborious, as watch
ful and careful, as ever ; yea, they should increase more
and more. It is no just excuse, that now they have ob
tained conversion. Should not we be as diligent that we
may serve and glorify God, as that we ourselves may be
happy ? And if we have obtained grace, yet we ought to
strive as much that we may obtain the other degrees that
are before, as we did to obtain that small degree that is
behind. The apostle tells us, that he forgot what was be
hind, and reached forth towards what was before.^!
Yea, those who are converted, have now a further reason
to strive for grace ; for they have seen something of its
excellency. A man who has once tasted the blessings of
Canaan, has more reason to press towards it, than he had
before. And they who are converted, should strive to
" make their calling and election sure." All those who
are converted are not sure of it ; and those who are sure,
do not know that they shall be always so ; and still seek
ing and serving God with the utmost diligence, is the way
to have assurance, and to have it maintained.

§ 1 Thess. iv. 13.

H Phi- iii. 13.

•2 -10

THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM.

SECT. IV.

An exhortation, so to spend the present life, that it may
only be a journey towards heaven.
Labour to obtain such a disposition of mind that you
may choose heaven for your inheritance and home ; and
may earnestly long for it, and be willing to change this
world, and all its enjoyments, for heaven. Labour to have
your heart taken up so much about heaven, and heavenly
enjoyments, as that you may rejoice when God calls you
to leave your best earthly friends and comforts for heaven,
there to enjoy God and Christ.
Be persuaded to travel in the way that leads to heaven ;
viz. in holiness, self-denial, mortification, obedience to all
the commands of God, following Christ's example ; in a
way of a heavenly life, or imitation of the saints and an
gels in heaven. Let it be your daily work, from morning
till night, and hold out in it to the end ; let nothing stop
or discourage you, or turn you aside from this road. And
let all other concerns be subordinated to this. Consider
the reasons that have been mentioned why you should
thus spend your life ; that this world is not your abiding
place, that the future world is to be your everlasting abode ;
and that the enjoyments and concerns of this world are
given entirely in order to another. And consider further
for motive,
1 . How worthy is heaven that your life should be wholly
spent as a journey towards it. — To what better purpose
can you spend vour life, whether you respect your duty or
your interest ? What better end can you propose to your
journey, than to obtain heaven ? You are placed in this
world, with a choice given you, that you may travel which
way you please ; and one way leads to heaven. Now, can
you direct your course better than this way ? All men have
some aim or other in living. Some mainly seek worldly
things ; they spend their days in such pursuits. But is not
heaven, where is fulness of joy for ever, much more worthy
to be sought by you ? How can you better employ your
strength, use your means, and spend your days, than in
travelling the road that leads to the everlasting enjoyment
of God ; to his glorious presence ; to the new Jerusalem ;
to the heavenly mount Zion ; where all your desires will
be filled, and no danger of ever losing your happiness ? —
No man is at home in this world, whether he choose heaven
or not ; here he is but a transient person. Where can you
choose your home better than in heaven ?
2. This is the way to have death comfortable to us. — To
spend our lives so as to be only a journeying towards
heaven, is the way to be free from bondage, and to have
the prospect and forethought of death comfortable. Does
the traveller think of his journey's end with fear and
terror ? Is it terrible to him to think that he has almost
got to his journey's end ? Were the children of Israel
sorry, after forty years' travel in the wilderness, when they
had almost got to Canaan ? This is the way to be able to
part with the world without grief. Does it grieve the
traveller when he has got home, to quit his staff and load
of provisions that he had to sustain him by the way ?
3. No more of your life will be pleasant to think of
when you 'come to die, than has been spent after this
manner. — If you have spent none of your life this way,
your whole life will be terrible to you to think of, unless
you die under some great delusion. You will see then,
that all of your life that has been spent otherwise, is lost.
You will then see the vanity of all other aims that you
may have proposed to yourself. The thought of what you

here possessed and enjoyed, will not be pleasant to you,
unless you can think also that you have subordinated them
to this purpose.
4. Consider that those who are willing thus to spend
their lives as a journey towards heaven may have heaven.
— Heaven, however high and glorious, is attainable for
such poor worthless creatures as we are. We may attain
that glorious region which is the habitation of angels ; yea,
the dwelling-place of the Son of God; and where is "the
glorious presence of the great Jehovah. And we may
have it freely ; without money and without price : if we
are but willing to travel the road that leads to it, and bend
our course that way as long as we live, we may and shall
have heaven for our eternal resting place.
5. Let it be considered, that if our lives be not a journey
towards heaven, they will be a journey to hell. All man
kind, after they have been here a short while, go to either
of the two great receptacles of all that depart out of this
world: the one is heaven; whither a small number, in
comparison, travel ; and the other is hell, whither the bulk
of mankind throng. And one or the other of these must
be the issue of our course in this world.
I shall conclude by giving a few directions :
1 . Labour to get a sense of the vanity of this world ; on
account of the little satisfaction that is to be enjoyed here ;
its short continuance, and unserviceableness when we most
stand in need of help, viz. on a death-bed. — All men, that
live any considerable time in the world, might see enough
to convince them of its vanity, if they would but consider.
— Be persuaded therefore to exercise consideration, when
you see and hear, from time to time, of the death of others.
Labour to turn your thoughts this way. See the vanity of
the world in such a glass.
2. Labour to be much acquainted with heaven. — If you
are not acquainted with it, you will not be likely to spend
your life as a journey thither. You will not be sensible of
its worth, nor will you long for it. Unless you are much
conversant in your mind with a better good, it will be ex
ceeding difficult to you to have your hearts loose from
these things, and to use them only in subordination to
something else, and be ready to part with them for the sake
of that better good. — Labour therefore to obtain a realizing
sense of a heavenly world, to get a firm belief of it-
reality, and to be very much conversant with it in your
thoughts. 3. Seek heaven only by Jesus Christ. — Christ tells us
that he is the way, and the truth, and the life.* He tells us
that he is the door of the sheep. " I am the door, by me
if any man enter in he shall be saved ; and go in and out
and find pasture."-)- If we therefore would improve our
lives as a journey towards heaven, we must seek it by him,
and not by our own righteousness ; as expecting to obtain
it only for his sake, looking to him, having our dependence
on him, who has procured it for us by his merit. And
expect strength to walk in holiness, the way that leads to
heaven, only from him.
4. Let Christians help one another in going this journey.
— There are many ways whereby Christians might greatly
forward one another in their way to heaven, as by religious
conference, &c. Therefore let them be exhorted to go this
journey as it were in company, conversing together, and
assisting one another. Company is very desirable in a
journey, but in none so much as this. — Let them go united,
and not fall out by the way, which would be to hinder one
another ; but use all means they can to help each other up
the hill. — This would insure a more successful travelling,
and a more joyful meeting at their Father's house in glory.

MAN'S NATURAL BLINDNESS

THINGS OF RELIGION.

Psalm xciv. 8 — 11.
Understand, ye brutish among the people : and ye. fools,
when will ye be wise ? He tliat planted the ear, shall he
not hear ? he that formed the eye, shall he not see ? He
that chastiseth the heathen, shall not he correct ? he that
teacheth man knowledge, shall not he know ? The Lord
knoweth the thoughts qf man, that they are vanity*
SECT. I.
Introductory observations.
In these words the following particulars are to be ob
served. (1 .) A certain spiritual disease charged on some
persons, viz. darkness, and blindness of mind, appearing
in their ignorance and folly. (2.) The great degree of this
disease ; so as to render the subjects of it fools. Ye fools,
when will ye be wise ? And so as to reduce them to a degree
of brutisltness. Ye brutish among the people. This igno
rance and folly were to such a degree, as to render men
like beasts. (3.) The obstinacy of this disease ; expressed
in that interrogation, When will ye be wise ? Their blind
ness and folly were not only very great ; but deeply rooted
and established, resisting all manner of cure. (4.) Of
what nature this blindness is. It is especially in things
pertaining to God. They were strangely ignorant of his
perfections, like beasts : and had foolish notions of him,
as though he did not see, nor know ; and as though he
would not execute justice, by chastising and punishing
wicked men. (5.) The unreasonableness and sottishness of
the notion they had of God, that he did not hear, did not
observe their reproaches of him and his people, is shown
by observing that he planted the ear. It is very unreason
able to suppose that he, who gave power of perceiving
words to others, should not perceive them himself. And
the sottishness of their being insensible of God's all-seeing
eye, and particularly of his seeing their wicked actions,
appears, in that God is the being who formed the eye, and
gave others a power of seeing. The sottishness of their
apprehension of God, as though he did not know what
they did, is argued from his being the fountain and origi
nal of all knowledge. The unreasonableness of their
expecting to escape God's just chastisements and judg
ments for sin, is set forth by his chastising even the heathen,
who did not sin against that light, or against so great
mercies, as the wicked in Israel did ; nor had ever made
such a profession as they. (6.) We may observe, that this
dreadful disease is ascribed to mankind in general. The
Lord knoweth the thoughts qf man, that they are vanity.
The psalmist had been setting forth the vanity and un
reasonableness of the thoughts of some of the children of
men ; and immediately upon it he observes, that this
vanity and foolishness of thought is common and natural to
mankind. From these particulars we may fairly deduce the follow-
* This Treatise is a posthumous work, collectedfrom the author's papers.
They were drawn up by him in the form of three short sermons, in his usual
way of preparation for the pulpit ; but were by no means finished in a man
ner fit for the public eye. It is presumed, therefore, that the present form is
much more suitable to the nature of the subject, than that in which they
appeared in the Glasgow edition (1785) of Eighteen Sermons, connected
with the Author's Life, by Dr. Hopkins.
This plan has been occasionally adopted respecting some other courses of
sermons, especially posthumous ones ; which we have been encouraged to
do by several judicious friends, who are well acquainted with the author's

ing doctrinal observation : That there is an extreme
AND BRUTISH BLINDNESS IN THINGS OF RELIGION, WHICH
NATURALLY POSSESSES THE HEARTS OF MANKIND. — This
doctrine is not to be understood as any reflection on the
capacity of the human nature ; for God hath made man
with a noble and excellent capacity. The blindness I
speak of, is not a merely negative ignorance ; such as in
trees and stones, that know nothing. They have no facul
ties of understanding and perception, whereby they should
be capable of any knowledge. And inferior animals,
though they have sensitive perception, are not capable of
any intellectual views. There is no fault to be found with
man's natural faculties. God has given men faculties
truly noble and excellent ; well capable of true wisdom
and divine knowledge. Nor is the blindness I speak of
like the ignorance of a new-born infant ; which arises from
want of necessary opportunity to exert these faculties.
The blindness that is in the heart of man, which is
spoken of in the text and doctrine, is neither for want of
faculties, nor opportunity to know, but from some positive
cause.f There is a principle in his heart, of such a blind
ing and besotting nature, that it hinders the exercises of
his faculties about the things of religion ; exercises for
which God has made him well capable, and for which he
gives him abundant opportunity.
In order to make it appear, that such an extreme brutish
blindness, with respect to the things of religion, does natu
rally possess the hearts of men, I shall show how this is
manifest in those things that appear in men's open profes
sion ; and how it is manifest in those things that are found
by inward experience, and are visible in men's practice.

SECT. II.
Man's natural blindness in religion, manifested by those
things which appear in men's open profession.
I would now show, how it is manifest that there is a
sottish and brutish blindness in the hearts of men in the
things of religion, by those things which appear in men's
open profession.
1 . It appears in the grossness of that ignorance and those
delusions, which have appeared among mankind. Man
has faculties given him whereby he is well capable of in
ferring the being of the Creator from the creatures. The
invisible things of God are very plainly and clearly to be
seen by the things that are made ; and the perfections of
the Divine Being, his eternal power and Godhead, are very
manifest in the works of his hands. And yet grossly
absurd notions conceming the Godhead have prevailed in
the world. Instead of acknowledging and worshipping
the true God, they have fallen off' to the worship of idols.
Instead of acknowledging the one only true God, they have
made a multitude of deities. Instead of worshipping a
God, who is an almighty, infinite, all-wise, and holy Spirit,
they have worshipped the hosts of heaven, the sun, moon,
writings. And we own, it is no small inducement— tour view, to edit them in
this manner in a standard edition, they are much more likely to do good at
a future period. A tract may be reprinted with much greater probability
of acceptance and success, than the same in the form of sermons, unnnisb-
ed by the author, with divisions, transitions, _ c. to which the generality of
readers are unaccustomed. — W.
t This is meant in a popular not a philosophical sense ; and is expressive
of active, wilful perverseness, rather than the abstract nature of sin, or the
obliquity of the natural act. — W.

248

MAN'S NATURAL BLINDNESS IN RELIGION.

and stars ; and the works of tlieir own hands, images of
gold and silver, brass and iron, wood and stone ; gods that
can neither hear, nor see, nor walk, nor speak, nor do, nor
know any thing. Some in the shape of men, others in
the shape of oxen and calves ; some in the shape of ser
pents, others of fishes, &c.
The sottishness of men in thus worshipping the lifeless
images which they themselves have made, is elegantly and
forcibly represented by the prophet Isaiah. " The smith
with the tongs both worketh in the coals, and feshioneth
it with hammers, and worketh it with the strength of his
arms. Yea, he is hungry, and his strength faileth ; he
drinketh no water, and is feint. The carpenter stretcheth
out his rule ; he marketh it out with a line : he fitteth it
with planes, and he marketh it out with the compass, and
maketh it after the figure of a man, according to the
beauty of a man, that it may remain in the house. He
heweth him down cedars, and taketh the cypress and the
oak, which he strengtheneth for himself among the trees of
the forest ; he planteth an ash, and the rain doth nourish
it. Then shall it be for a man to burn ; for he will take
thereof and warm himself; yea, he kindleth it, and baketh
bread ; yea, he maketh a god, and worshippeth it : he
maketh it a graven image, and faileth down thereto. He
burnetii part thereof in the fire : with part thereof he eat
eth flesh : he roasteth roast, and is satisfied : yea, he
warmeth himself, and saith, Aha, I am warm, I have seen
the fire. And the residue thereof he maketh a god, even
his graven image : he faileth down unto it, and worship
peth it, and prayeth unto it, and saith, Deliver me, for thou
art my god. They have not known, nor understood : for
he hath shut their eyes, that they cannot see, and their hearts,
that they cannot understand. And none considered, in his
heart, neither is there knowledge nor understanding to
say, I have burned part of it in the fire, yea, also I have
baked bread upon the coals thereof; I have roasted
flesh, and eaten it, and shall I make the residue thereof
an abomination ? shall I fall down to the stock of a
tree?"* Many of the images which the heathen worshipped were
made in the most monstrous and terrible shapes they could
devise ; and the more hideous and frightful they appeared,
the better they supposed they would serve their turn for
gods. Some of their images were made so as to be the
most unclean representations ; images of men openly ex
posing their nakedness. These unclean images, they
judged, appeared in a god-like manner, and worthy to be
worshipped. Many, instead of worshipping a holy and
good God, and infinitely perfect Being, ascribed vices to
many of the gods which they worshipped. One god they
reckoned notorious for drunkenness ; others notorious for
uncleanness : to others they ascribed lying and stealing ;
to others cruelty ; and yet looked upon them worthy to be
worshipped as gods ! Many worshipped devils, who ap
peared to them, and whom they themselves reckoned to be
evil spirits ; but yet built temples, and offered sacrifices to
them, because they were afraid of them. Many worship
ped beasts and birds and fishes ; and the most hateful and
loathsome animals were most worshipped ; particularly,
serpents were more commonly worshipped than any other
beast. Many worshipped rivers, and trees, and mountains.
They worshipped many diseases. There is scarcely any
thing of which men have not made gods.
And so far has that principle of blindness prevailed,
with respect to the things of religion, that it has in a great
measure extinguished all light in the minds of many, even
in matters of morality, and things that have but a distant
relation to religion. So that many whole nations have
professedly approved of many things directly contrary to
the light of nature ; and the most horrid vices and im
moralities have been esteemed harmless, yea, accounted
virtues among them ; such as revenge, cruelty, and incest .
Many nations have openly allowed the practice of sodomy.
And with some it has been accounted commendable to
marry their nearest relations. Many have even worship
ped their gods in their temples with acts of drunkenness
and whoredom, and the most abominable lewdness. And
the more filthy they were in their uncleanness, they
» Isa. xliv. 12-19.

thought their gods the more pleased and delighted
with it.
Many nations have been so under the influence of men
tal blindness, that they have been void of all civility, and
have been reduced to a state very little above the beasts in
their common customs, and ordinary way of living ; and
in a great many things far below the beasts : being, if I
may so speak, much more beastly than the beasts them
selves. Now this has not been, because these men, with
whom this has been the case, have not had the same
faculties that we have. That we are not as ignorant as
they, is not because we have better natural understandings,
or that our minds are by nature more clear, and our eyes
more discerning ; or that our hearts are not naturally so
inclined to sottishness and delusion as theirs. But only
because God has not left us so much to ourselves, as he
has them. He has given us more instruction to help us
against our delusions. God has so ordered it in his pro
vidence, that we should have his good word to instruct us ;
and has caused that we should grow up from our infancy
under christian instruction.
2. The extreme blindness and sottishness in things of
religion, which is naturally in the hearts of men, appears
not only in embracing and professing those errors that are
very great, but also those that are so unnatural. They
have not only embraced errors which are very contrary to
truth, but very contrary to humanity ; not only against the
light of nature, but against the more innocent inclinations
of nature. Such has been, and still is, the blindness of
many nations in the world, that they embrace those errors
which do not only exclude all true virtue, all holy disposi
tions ; but those that have swallowed up the more harm
less inclinations of human-nature.
Thus they have embraced many gross delusions, that
are as contrary as possible to natural affection. Such as
offering up their own children in sacrifice to their idol ;
which has been a common thing in the heathen world.
And the parents have not only offered them up to death,
but they nave brought them, and offered them up to the
most cruel and tormenting deaths : as, to be burnt alive,
to be broiled to death in burning brass ; which was the
way of offering up children to Moloch. The image of the
idol being made of brass, in a horrid shape, was heated
red hot ; and the poor child was laid naked in this burn
ing brass, and so burnt to death. And the parents them
selves brought the child to this offering, however sweet and
pleasant a child it might be. And thus the innocent child
was tormented till it died, without any regard to its piteous
cries. And it has been the manner of some nations, to
offer in sacrifice the fairest and best beloved child that
they had. And thus many thousands of poor babes have
been offered up. So strong has been the tendency of the
hearts of men to delusion, that it has thus overcome those
strong natural affections which men have to the fruit of
their own bodies.
And many of these delusions have been against men's
natural love of their own ease, and aversion to pain.
Many have worshipped their idols, and do so to this day,
with such rites as are most painful and tormenting ; cut
ting, gashing, and mangling their own flesh. Thus they
sottishly worshipped Baal of old. " And they cried aloud,
and cut themselves after their manner with knives and
lancets, till the blood gushed out upon them."f And it
is still the custom in some nations grievously to torment
themselves : to kindle a fire to scorch their own bodies in
a most miserable manner ; and to put themselves to vari
ous and long-eontinued torments to please their idols.
And it is the manner in some countries for persons, on
certain occasions, to kill themselves ; yea, to put them
selves to cruel deaths ; to cast themselves into great fires,
and there burn themselves to death. How powerful must
be the delusions of the human mind, and how strong the
tendency of the heart to carry them such a length, and so
to overcome the tenderest feelings of human nature !
3. The extreme blindness of the mind of man will ap
pear further, if we consider how general gross ignorance
and delusion has been. It has for the most part prevailed
through the greater part of the world. For most of the
t 1 Kings xviii. 28.

Sect. II.

FROM MEN'S OPEN PROFESSION.

249

time from Noah's flood to the coming of Christ, all na
tions, except the children of Israel, were overspread with
gross heathenish darkness; being given up to the most
vain and ridiculous notions, and all manner of supersti
tious, barbarous, absurd, and unnatural practices. And,
for the greater part of the time since, most nations of the
world have been covered with gross darkness.
So it is at this day. Many nations are under popish
darkness, and are in such gross delusions that they wor
ship the Virgin Mary, and a great multitude of dead men,
whom their church has canonized for saints ; some real
saints, and others abominably wicked men. So they wor
ship the bread in the sacrament, and account it not only
the real body of Christ, but real Christ in body and soul,
and divinity. They carry a wafer, a small piece of bread,
in procession, fall down before it, adore it, and account it
Christ himself, both in his divine and human nature ; and
yet believe that the body of Christ is in heaven, and in
ten thousand different places on earth at the same time.
They think they can do works of supererogation ; that is,
more good works than they are obliged to do, whereby they
bring God into debt to them. They whip themselves, and
put themselves to other ridiculous penances and suffer
ings, whereby they think they appease the anger of God
for their sins. And they pay money to the priests, to buy
the pardon of their sins ; yea, they buy indulgences for
future crimes, or pardon for sins before they commit them.
They think they defend themselves from evil spirits, by
sprinkling holy water. They pay money to buy the
souls of their departed friends out of purgatory ; they
worship the relics of dead saints ; such as pieces of their
bones, their teeth, their hair, pieces of their garments, and
the like. And innumerable other such foolish delusions
are they under.
A great part of the nations of the world are Maho
metans; many of the articles of whose belief are too
childish and ridiculous to be publicly mentioned in a
solemn assembly. — But the greater part of the inhabitants
of the world are to this day gross, barbarous heathens,
who have not the knowledge of the true God, but worship
idols and devils, with all manner of absurd and foolish
rites and ceremonies ; and are destitute of even common
civility : multitudes of nations being like beasts in hu
man shape. — Now this barbarous ignorance and gross de
lusion being of such great extent and continuance, shows
that the cause is general, and that the defect is in the cor
rupted nature of mankind ; man's natural blindness and
proneness of his heart to delusion.
4. The sottish blindness and folly of the heart of men
appears in their being so prone to fall into such gross de
lusions, soon after they have been favoured with clear
light. Were not the minds of men exceeding dark, they
never would entertain such absurd notions at all ; for they
are as contrary as possible to reason : much less would
they fall into them, after they had once been instructed in
the truth. For, were it not very strange and great sot
tishness indeed, they would — when they come to be in
formed of the truth, and have opportunity to compare it
with those gross errors — behold such a reasonableness in
the truth, and such absurdity in those errors, that they
would never be in danger of being deluded by them any
more. But yet so it is ; mankind, after they have been
fully instructed, and have lived in clear light, have, time
after time, presently lost the knowledge of the truth, and
have exchanged it for the most barbarous and brutish
notions. So it was early after the flood, whereby the wicked
world, those that were visibly so, were destroyed ; and
none were left but those who professed the true religion :
and they had such an eminently holy man as Noah to in
struct them. And though the true God had so wonder
fully and astonishingly manifested himself in that great
work of vengeance against his enemies ; yet the posterity
of Noah, in great part, presently lost the knowledge of the
true God, and fell away to idolatry ; and that even while
Noah was living. And the ancestors of Abraham were taint
ed with that idolatry ; even Terah his own father. " And
Joshua said unto all the people, thus saith the Lord God
* Josh. xxiv. 2, 3, 4.

ot Israel, your fathers dwelt on the other side of the flood
in old time, even Terah the father of Abraham, and the
father of Nachor : and they served other gods. And I
took your father Abraham from the other side of the flood,"
&c* It seems as though Abraham was called away
from his father's house, and from his own country, for this
reason, that the country was overrun with idolatry.
And even many of the posterity of Abraham and Isaac
— Abraham's posterity by Hagar and Keturah, and that
part of Isaac's posterity which were of Esau— though the
true religion was so thoroughly taught and practised in
the houses of those holy patriarchs, and God had from
time to time so wonderfully and miraculously manifested
liimself to them, yet — soon cast off the true God, and fell
away to idolatry. For, not very long after, we read of the
posterity of Jacob as being the only people of God, that
he had in all the earth. — And so the people of that part of
the land of Canaan, who were under that holy king Mel-
chizedeck, soon totally cast off the worship of the one
only true God, which he taught and maintained. For
before Joshua brought in the children of Israel, the inha
bitants of that land were wholly given to idolatry. So
the people of the land of Uz, who were under the go
vernment of so great and holy a man as Job, soon lost
the knowledge of the true God, and all those religious
truths which were then known among them, and sunk into
gross idolatry.
So the posterity of Jacob, themselves — though God had
manifested himself to them, and had wrought such won
ders for them in the time of Jacob and Joseph, yet — pre
sently fell to worship the gods of Egypt. This appears
from the words of Joshua, " Put away the gods which
your fathers served on the other side of the flood, and in
Egvpt."f And how soon did they fell to worship a
golden calf in the wilderness, in the midst of the wonder
ful and miraculous manifestations of the one only true
God ! And notwithstanding idolatry was so strictly for
bidden, and the folly and wickedness of it so clearly
manifested, in the law of Moses and in God's providence;
yet, how soon did they fall into idolatry after they were
brought into the land of Canaan ! And when God raised
up eminent men,judges to instruct and govern them, and
reclaim them from their idolatrous practices, from time to
time; though they professed to be convinced of their
foolish delusion, yet they would soon fall again into the
most sottish idolatry. And this they did soon after such
great light as they enjoyed in the time of Samuel, David,
and Solomon ; and so, from time to time, down to the
Babylonish captivity.
And in the apostles' times, when such great things were
done to rouse the attention of mankind, and such great
light was spread over many nations, multitudes, after they
had been instructed in the christian religion by the apos
tles and others, fell away into the grossest heresies, and
embraced the most corrupt and absurd notions. — After
the Roman empire had been converted from heathenism
to Christianity, and the light of the gospel had driven out
the sottish ignorance and gross absurdities of pagan idol
atry, in which they had continued so long ; they soon
began to fall away from the truth into antichristian super
stition and idolatry, in which are opinions and practices
no less absurd than those of the heathen. And a great
part of the christian world fell away to Mahometanism.
And since the reformation, wherein God wonderfully
restored gospel light in a great part of the christian world,
which was but about two hundred years ago, many are
fallen away again, some to popery, some to gross heresies,
and some to atheistical principles : so that the reformed
church is greatly diminished. — -And as to our nation in
particular, which has been a" nation favoured with light,
since the reformation, above most, if not any in the world ;
how soon has it in great part fallen away ! A great part
of it to atheism, deism, and gross infidelity; and others to
Arminianism, and to the Socinian and Arian heresies, to
believe that Christ is a created dependent God; and to
hold other foolish absurdities ! And many have of late
openly disputed and denied the moral evil of some of the
greatest and most heinous vices.
t Josh, xxiv, 14.

250

MAN'S NATURAL BLINDNESS IN RELIGION.

These things show how desperately prone mankind are
lo blindness and delusion, how addicted they are to dark
ness. — God now and then, by his instructions, lifts up some
nations out of such gross darkness : but then, how do they
sink down into it again, as soon as his hand is withdrawn.!
like a heavy stone, which, though it may be forced up
wards, yet sinks down again ; and will continue to sink
lower and lower with a swift progress, if there be nothing
to restrain it. That is the woeful tendency of the mind of
man since the fall, notwithstanding his noble powers and
faculties; even to sink down into a kind of brutality, to
lose and extinguish all useful light, and to sink lower and
lower into darkness.
5. The extreme and brutish blindness that possesses the
hearts of men naturally, appears in their being so confident
in gross errors and delusions. Some things mentioned al
ready, show how confident and assured they are ; particu
larly, their running such great ventures as offering up their
children ; and cutting and mangling themselves. Multi
tudes live and die in the most foolish and absurd notions
and principles, and never seem to make any doubt of their
being in the right.
The Mahometans seem to make no doubt but that, when
they die, they shall go to such a "paradise as Mahomet has
promised them ; where they shall live in all manner of
sensual pleasures, and shall spend their time in gratifying
the lusts of the flesh. Mahomet promised them, that all
who die in war for the defence of the Mahometan religion,
shall go to this paradise ; and they make no doubt of it.
Therefore, many of them, as it were, willingly rush on upon
the point of the sword.
The papists, many of them at least, make no doubt of
the truth of those foolish notions of a purgatory, and the
power of the priests to deliver them out of it, and give
them eternal life ; and therefore will not spare vast sums of
money to purchase deliverance from those imaginary tor
ments. How confident are many heretics in the grossest
heresies ! and how bold are many deists in their infidelity !
6. The desperateness of that blindness which is in the
heart of man, appears, in that no nation or people in the
world ever have had any remedy or deliverance from such
gross ignorance and delusion, from themselves. No instance
can be mentioned of any people whatsoever, who have
once fallen into heathenish darkness, or any other gross
superstitions and ridiculous opinions in religion, that ever
had any remedy by any wisdom of their own ; or that have,
of themselves, grown wiser by the improvement of their
own faculties, and by instructing one another ; or that ever
had any remedy at all, by the teaching of any wise men,
who did not professedly act as moved and directed of
God ; and did not declare, that they had their instructions,
in the first place, from him.
Thus in the heathen world. Before Christ's time, the
whole world, except the Jews, lay in their darkness for a
great many hundred years, even beyond all time of which
they had any certain history among them. And there was
no remedy, nor any appearance of a remedy ; they con
tinued, ages after ages, waxing worse and worse, sinking
deeper and deeper. Among all the many nations in the
world, no one ever bethought themselves, and emerged out
of their brutish darkness. There were indeed some na
tions that emerged out of slavery, cast off the yoke of their
enemies, grew great, and conquered great part of the
world ; but they never conquered the blindness of their
own hearts.
There were some nations who excelled in other know
ledge; as the Greeks and Romans. They excelled in
policy, and in the form of their civil government. They
had wise political rulers ; they had excellent laws for regu
lating their civil state; many of which have been imitated,
as a pattern, by many christian nations ever since. They
excelled many other nations in arts, government, and civility,
almost as much as men in common do beasts. Yet they
never could deliver themselves from their heathenism.
Though they were so wise in other things, yet in matters of
religion they were very absurd and brutish. For even the
Greeks and Romans, in their most flourishing state, wor
shipped innumerable gods ; and some to whom they
* Isa. xliv 19, 20,

ascribed great vices : and some they worshipped with most
obscene and horrid rites. To some they offered human
sacrifices. The Romans had a temple dedicated to the
furies, which they worshipped. And they had a multitude
of childish notions and fables about their gods.
And though there were raised up some wise men and
philosophers among the Greeks and Romans, who borrowed
some things concerning the true God from the Jews ; yet
their instructions never were effectual to deliver any one
people, or even one city or town, from their barbarous
heathenism, or so much as to get any one society, or com
pany of men, to unite in the public worship qf the true God.
And these philosophers themselves had many grossly ab
surd opinions, mingled with those scraps of truth which
they had gathered up.
And the Jews, when fallen away to idolatry, as they often
did, never recovered of themselves. Never any remedy
appeared, unless God raised up, and extraordinarily moved,
some person to reprove and instruct them. — And in this
age ot knowledge, an age wherein learning is carried to a
great height, even many learned men seem to be carried
away with the gross errors and fooleries of the popish re
ligion. Europe is a part of the world the most femed for arts and
sciences of any ; and these things have been carried to a
much greater height in this age than in many others : yet
many learned men in Europe at this day, who greatly excel
in human arts and literature, are still under popish dark
ness. A deceived heart has turned them aside ; nor do
they seem to have any power to deliver their souls ; nor
does it come into their minds, that there is a lie in their
right hands.
Many men in France and in other countries, who are
indeed men of great learning, knowledge, and abilities, yet
seem really to think that the church of Rome is the only
true church of Christ; and are zealous to uphold and pro
pagate it. And though now, within this hundred years,
human learning has been very much promoted, and has
risen to a greater height than ever in the world ; and has
greatly increased not only in our nation, but in France and
Italy, and other popish countries ; yet there seems to be
no such effect of it, as any considerable turning from popish
delusions ; but the church of Rome has rather increased of
late, than otherwise.
And in England, a land wherein learning flourishes as
much as in any in the world, and which is perhaps the
most favoured with light of any ; there are many men of
vast learning, and great and strong reason, who have em
braced, and do at this day embrace, the gross errors of the
Arians and Deists. Our nation, in all its light and learn
ing, is full of infidels, and those that are further from
Christianity than the very Mahometans themselves. Of
so little avail is human strength, or human reason and
learning, as a remedy against the extreme blindness of the
human mind. The blindness of the mind, or an inclina
tion to delusion in things of religion, is so strong, that it
will overcome the greatest learning, and the strongest
natural reason.
Men, if let alone, will not help one another; nor will they
help themselves. The disease always proves without
remedy, unless God delivers. This was observed of old:
"And none considereth in his heart, neither is there know
ledge nor understanding to say, I have burnt part of it in
the fire ; yea, also I have baked bread upon the coals thereof;
I have roasted flesh, and eaten it : and shall I make the
residue thereof an abomination ? shall I fall down to the
stock of a tree ? He feedeth on ashes : a deceived heart hath
turned him aside, that he cannot deliver his soul, nor say,
Is there not a lie in my right hand ?"*
If God lets men alone, no light arises ; but the darkness
grows thicker and thicker. How is it now, at this very
day, among all the nations where the light of the gospel has
not come ? Many of whose ancestors, without doubt, have
been in the midnight darkness of heathenism for above
three thousand years : and not one peopie have delivered
themselves, who have not had the light ofthe gospel. And
this is not owing to their want of as good natural abilities
as we have ; nor is it because they have an inclination

Sect. III.

FROM MEN'S EXPERIENCE AND PRACTICE.

251

more to neglect their natural abilities, or make a worse im
provement of them than we.
7. The extreme blindness of man's heart, in matters of
religion, appears, by men felling into gross delusions, or
continuing in them, at the same time that they have been
under great means of instruction from God. We have
many instances of this ; as Rachel in Jacob's family ; and
the Israelites in the wilderness, &c. These last had great
means of instruction ; yet they set up the golden calf, &c.
And after Joshua's time, they persisted in their delusions
and folly, from time to time, even under the reproofs of
the prophets ; and even in such horrid delusions, so con
trary to natural affection, as offering their children in
sacrifice to Moloch, burning them alive, in a most cruel
manner. In the time of Christ and the apostles, the Jews had
great means of instruction, and most of the nations of the
world were put under great advantages to come to the
knowledge of the truth ; yet what was the effect ? It
would be easy to pursue these remarks respecting tlie
papists in the time of the reformation, and since — the
Arians and Deists in our day, &c. — but what has been
said may be quite sufficient, if the reader will but indulge
reflection. 8. The exceedingly great blindness of men, in things of
religion, appears in the endless disputes and controversies,
that there have been, and are, among men, about those
things which concern religion.— Of old, the wise men and
philosophers among the heathen, were, so to speak, infi
nitely divided among themselves. Varro, who was one of
them, reckons up several hundred opinions about that one
point, Wherein man's happiness consisted? And they were
continually in disputes one with another. But the effect
of their disputes was not any greater union, or any better
agreement in their opinions. They were as much divided
after they had disputed many ages, as they were at first ;
yea, much more.
So there have long been disputes in the christian world
about opinions and principles in religion. There is a vast
variety of sects and opinions ; and disputes have been
carried on, age after age, with great warmth, and thou
sands of volumes have been written one against another.
And all these disputes have not terminated the differences,
but they still subsist as much as ever ; yea, they increase
and multiply more and more. Instead of ending contro
versies by disputing, one dispute only lays a foundation
for another. And thus the world goes on jangling and
contending, daily writing and printing ; being as it were
deluged with controversial books; and all to no purpose.
The increase of human learning does not bring these
controversies to an issue, but does really increase and
multiply them. There probably never was a time in our
nation wherein there was such a vast variety of opinions
in matters of religion, as at this day. Every now and then,
a new scheme of things is broached, and various and con
trary opinions are mixed and jumbled, divided and sub
divided ; and every new writer is willing to have the
credit of some new notion.
And after this manner does this miserable world go on
in endless confusion ; like a great multitude of fool-hardy
persons, who go on in the dark, stumbling and justling one
against another, without perceiving any remedy for their
own, or affording any for their neighbour's, calamity. — Thus
I have shown how the extreme blindness that possesses
the hearts of men is manifest in what appears in their pro
fession. SECT. III.
Mere's extreme blindness manifested by inward experience,
and especially in their practices under the gospel.
I come now to show, how this is manifest in those
things that are found by inward experience, and are visible
in men's practices under the light of the gospel.
1 . This appears in their being so prone to be deceived so
many ways, or being liable to such a multiplicity of de
ceits. There are thousands of delusions in things which
concern the affairs of religion, that men commonly are led

away with, who yet live under the light of the gospel. —
They are many ways deceived ahoxitGod. They think him
to be an exceeding diverse kind of being from what he is ;
altogether such an one as themselves.* They are deceived
about his holiness, they do not realize it, that he is such a
holy being as he indeed is, or that he hates sin with such
a hatred as he declares he does. They are not convinced
of his truth, or that he certainly will fulfil his threatenings
or his promises. They are not convinced of his justice in
punishing sin, as he does. They have very wrong notions
of Christ. They are not convinced of his ability to save
them, or of the sufficiency of his sacrifice and righteous
ness ; nor of his willingness to receive them.
Men are commonly subject to a great many errors about
their duty. They are ready to bring their principles to
agree with their practices, instead of bringing their prac
tices to their principles, as they ought to do. They will
put innumerable false glosses on the rules of God's word,
to bend them to a compliance with their lusts ; and so
they " put darkness for light, and light for darkness ;
bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter."
They are subject to deceits and delusions about the
things of this world. They imagine that there is happiness
and satisfaction to be found in the profits, pleasures, and
honours, which are to be had here. They believe all the
deluding flatteries and promises of a vain world. And
they wiii hold that deceit and grand delusion, that these
things are the highest good ; and will act accordingly ;
will choose these things for their portion. .And they wili
hold and practise upon that error, that these things are of
long continuance, and are to be depended upon.
They are greatly deceived about the things of another
world. They undervalue that heavenly glory, which is
promised to the saints ; and are not much terrified with
what they hear of the damnation of hell ; they cannot
realize it, that its torments are so dreadful as they hear ;
and are very ready to imagine that they are not eternal,
but will some time or other have an end.
They are deceived about the state of good men. They
think they are not happy, but live a melancholy life. And
they are deceived about the wicked. They envy the state
of many of them, as accounting them well off. " They
call the proud happy,f and bless the covetous, whom God
abhors."! And they strive a great deal more after such
enjoyments as these have, than after such as are the portion
of the godly.
They are subject to a thousand deceits and delusions
about themselves. They think themselves wise, when they
are fools. They are deceived about their own hearts ; they
think them much better than they really are. They think
they see many good things in themseives, when indeed
there is nothing good there. They appear lovely in their
own eyes, when their hearts are like the inside of a grave,
full of dead men's bones and rotten flesh, crawling worms,
and all uncleanness. Or rather, the inward vault of hell,
that is a habitation of devils and every foul spirit. Those
things in their hearts are highly esteemed by them, which
are an abomination in the sight of God.
Men are very prone to be deceived about their own
state ; to think themselves something when they are no
thing ; and to suppose themselves " rich and increased in
goods, and to have need of nothing ; when they are wretch
ed, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." They
are greatly deceived about the principles they act from.
They think they are sincere in that in which there is no
sincerity ; and that they do those things from love to God,
which they do only from love to themselves. They call
mere speculative or natural knowledge, spiritual know
ledge ; and put conscience for grace ; a servile, for a child
like fear; and common affections, that are only from
natural principles, and have no abiding effect, for high
discoveries, and eminent actings of grace. Yea, it is com
mon with men to call their vicious dispositions by the
name of some virtue. They call their anger and malice,
zeal for a righteous cause, or zeal for the public good ;
and their covetousness, frugality.
They are vastly deceived about their own righteousness.
They think their affections and performances lovely to God,
t Psal. x. 3

252

MAN'S NATURAL BLINDNESS IN RELIGION.

which indeed are hateful to him. They think their tears,
reformations, and prayers, sufficient to make atonement for
their sins ; when indeed if all the angels in heaven should
offer themselves in sacrifice to God, it would not be suffi
cient to atone for one of their sins. They think their
prayers and works, and religious doings, a sufficient price
to purchase God's favour and eternal glory; when, as
they perform them, they do nothing but ment hell.
They are greatly deceived about their strength. They
think they are able to mend their own hearts, and work
some good principles in themselves ; when they can do no
more towards it, than a dead corpse does towards raising it
self to life. They vainly flatter themselves, they are able to
come to Christ, when they are not. They are greatly deceived
about the stability of their own hearts. They foolishly think
their own intentions and resolutions of what good they will
do hereafter, to be depended on ; when indeed there is no
dependence at all to be had on them. They are greatly
deceived about their opportunities. They think that the
long continuance of their opportunity is to be depended on,
and that to-morrow it is to be boasted of; when indeed
there is the utmost uncertainty of it. They flatter them
selves that they shall have a better opportunity to seek sal
vation hereafter, than they have now ; when there is no
probability of it, but a very great improbability.
They are greatly deceived about their own actions and
practices. Their own faults are strangely hid from their
eyes. They live in ways that are very unbecoming Chris
tians, but yet seem not to be at all sensible of it. Those
evil ways of theirs, which are very plain to others, are hid
from them. Yea, those very things, which they themselves
account great faults in others, they will justify themselves
in. Those things for which they will be very angry with
others, they at the same time do themselves, and often
times in a much higher degree, and never once think of it.
While they are zealous to pull the mote out of their
brother's eye, they know not that a beam is in their own
eye. Those sins that they commit, which they are sensible are
sins, they are woefully deceived about. They call great
sins, little ones ; and in their own imaginations, find out
many excuses, which make the guilt very small ; while
the many heinous aggravations are hid from their eyes.
They are greatly deceived about themselves, when they
compare themselves with others. They esteem themselves
better than their neighbours, who are indeed much better
than themselves. They are greatly deceived about them
selves, when they compare themselves with God. They
are very insensible of the difference there is between God
and them, and act in many things as if they thought them
selves his equals ; yea, as if they thought themselves above
him. Thus manifold are the deceits and delusions that
men fall into.
2. The desperate blindness that is natural to men, ap
pears in their being so ignorant and blind in things that are
so clear and plain. Thus if we consider how great God is,
and how dreadful sin against him must be, and how much
sin we are guilty of, and of what importance it is that his
infinite Majesty should be vindicated ; how plain is it, that
man's righteousness is insufficient ! And yet how greatly
will men confide in it ! how will they ascribe more to it,
than can be ascribed to the righteousness of the sinless and
glorious angels of heaven. What can be more plain in
itself, than that eternal things are of infinitely greater im
portance than temporal things ? And yet how hard is it
thoroughly to convince men of it ! How plain is it, that
eternal misery in hell is infinitely to he dreaded ! And yet
how few appear to be thoroughly convinced of this ! How
plain is it, that life is uncertain \ And yet how much other
wise do most men think ! How plain is it, that it is the
highest prudence in matters of infinite concern to improve
the first opportunity, without trusting to another ! But yet
how few are convinced of this ! How reasonable is it,
considering that God is a wise and just being, to sup
pose that there shall be a future state of rewards and
punishments, wherein every man shall receive according to
his works ! And yet, how does this seem like a dream to
most men ! # Luke xii. 56.

What can be in itself more plain and manifest, and easily
to be known by us, if it were not for a strange blindness,
than we are to ourselves, who are always with, never ab
sent from ourselves ; always in our own view, before our
own eyes ; who have opportunity to look into our own
hearts, and see all that passes there ? And yet what is there
that men are more ignorant of, than they are of themselves?
There are many vicious practices, the unlawfulness of
which is very plain ; the sins are gross, and contrary not
only to the word of God, but to the light of nature : and
yet men will often plead, there is no harm in such sins;
such as, many acts of gross uncleanness ; and many acts
of fraud, injustice and deceitfulness ; and many others that
might be mentioned.
There is no one thing whatsoever more plain and mani
fest, and more demonstrable, than the being of a God. It
is manifest in ourselves, in our own bodies and souls, and
in every thing about us wherever we turn our eye, whether
to heaven, or to the earth, the air, or the seas. And yet
how prone is the heart of man to call this into question !
So inclined is the heart of man to blindness and delusion,
that it is prone to even atheism itself.
3. The great blindness of the heart of man appears, in
that so little a thing will deceive him, and confound his
judgment. A little self-interest, or only the bait of some
short gratification of a sensual appetite, or a little stirring
of passion, will blind men's eyes, and make them argue and
judge most strangely and perversely, and draw the most
absurd conclusion ; such as, if they were indifferent, they
would see to be most unreasonable. The devil finds easy
work to deceive them a thousand ways ; an argument of
the great weakness and blindness of our minds. As a
little child, weak in understanding, is very easily deceived.
4. The woeful blindness that possesses the hearts of men
naturally, appears in their being all totally ignorant of that
in God, which they had most need to know ; viz. the glory
and excellency of his nature. Though our faculties, which
we have above the beasts, were chiefly given us, that we might
know this ; and though without this knowledge all other
will signify nothing to us ; and our faculties are as
capable of it, as of any other knowledge whatsoever — and
which is as plainly and abundantly manifested as any thing
whatsoever, innumerable ways, both in the word and works
of God — yet all men naturally are totally ignorant of this ;
as ignorant as one born blind is of colours. Natural men
ofthe greatest abilities and learning, are as ignorant of it,
as the weakest and the most unlearned ; yea, as ignorant as
the very stocks and stones ; for they see, and can see nothing
at all of it.
5. It appears, in that they are so blind in those same
things in religious matters, which they are sufficiently
sensible of in other matters. In temporal things they are
very sensible that it is a point of prudence to improve the
first opportunity in things of great importance. But in
matters of religion, which are of infinitely the greatest im
portance, they have not this discernment. In temporal
matters they are sensible that it is a great folly long to de
lay and put off, when life is in danger, and all depends
upon it. But in the concerns of their souls, they are insen
sible of this truth. So in the concerns of this world, they
are sensible it is prudence to improve times of special ad
vantage, and to embrace a good offer when made them.
They are sensible that things of long continuance are of
greater importance, than those of short duration ; yet in
religious concerns, none of these things are sensibly dis
cerned. In temporal things they are sufficiently sensible,
that it is a point of prudence to lay up for hereafter, in
summer to lay up for winter, and to lay up for their fami
lies, after they are dead ; but men do not generally discern
the prudence of making a proper provision for a future stale.
— In matters of importance in this world, they are sensible
of the wisdom of taking thorough care to be on sure
grounds ; but in their soul's concerns they see nothing of
this. Our Saviour observed this to be the case with the
Jews when he was upon earth. " Ye hypocrites, ye can
discern the face of the sky, and ofthe earth : but how is it
that ye do not discern this time ?"*
6. The desperate blindness that naturally possesses the

Sect. IV.

PRACTICAL INFERENCES, &c.

253

hearts of men under the gospel, appears in their remain
ing so stupidly insensible and deceived, under so great means
of instruction and conviction. If they were brought up
under heathenish darkness, it would not be so full a de
monstration of it : but thus thev remain, though under the
clearest light, under the glorious light of the gospel, where
they enjoy God's own instructions in his word, in a great
fulness and plainness, and have the evidence and truth of
things set before them from time to time in the plainest
manner. They have the arguments of God's being and
perfection ; and of another world. They are told how
eternal things are of greater importance than temporal ;
and of what importance it is to escape eternal misery.
How much it is worth while to take pains for heavenly
glory ; and how vain their own righteousness is : but yet
to what little purpose !
And they have not only great means of instruction in
God's word, but also in providence. They have the
evidence of the shortness and uncertainty of life. " He
seeth that wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish
person perish, and leave their wealth to others." Yet
" their inward thought is, that their houses shall continue
for ever, and their dwelling-places to all generations :
they call their lands after their own names. Nevertheless
man being in honour, abideth not : he is like the beasts
that perish. This their way is their folly : yet their pos
terity approve their sayings. They find the world is vain
and unsatisfactory; they find the great instability and
treachery of their own hearts ; and how their own good in
tentions and resolutions are not to be depended on. They
often find by experience, that their attempts to make them
better, fail ; but, alas ! with what small effect !
Such abundant evidence is there, both in what appears
in the open profession of men ; and also by what is found
in their inward experience, and is evident in their practice,
of the extreme and brutish ignorance and blindness, which
naturally possess their hearts.

SECT. IV.
Practical inferences and application qf the subject.
Having shown how the truth of the doctrine is evident,
both by what appears in men's open profession, and by
those things which axe found by inward experience, and are
manifest by what is visible in men's practice ; I proceed
to improve the subject.
I. By this we may see how manifest are the ruins ofthe
fall of man. It is observable in all the kinds of God's
creatures that we behold, that they have those properties
and qualities, which are every way proportioned to their
end ; so that they need no more, they stand in need of no
greater degree of perfection, in order well to answer the
special use for which they seem to be designed. The brute
creatures, birds, beasts, fishes, and insects, though there
be innumerable kinds of them, yet [all seem to have such
a degree of perception and perfection given them, as best
suits their place in the creation, their manner of living, and
the ends for which they were made. There is no defect
visible in them; they are perfect in their kind; there
seems to be nothing wanting, in order to their filling up
their allotted place in the world. And there can be no
reasonable doubt but that it was so at first with mankind.
It is not reasonable to suppose, that God would make
many thousands of kinds of creatures in this lower world,
and one kind the highest of them all, to be the head of the
rest; and that all the rest should be complete in their
kinds, every way endowed with such qualifications as are
proportioned to their use and end : and only this most
noble creature of all, left exceeding imperfect, notoriously
destitute of what he principally stands in need of to
answer the end of his being. The principal faculty by
which God has distinguished this noble creature from the
rest, is his understanding : but would God so distinguish
man in his creation from other creatures, and then seal up
that understanding with such an extreme blindness, as to
render it useless, as to the principal ends of it; and
wholly to disenable him from answering the ends of an in-
« 2 Peter i. 19.

telligent creature, and to make his understanding rather a
misery than a blessing to him ; and rendering him much
more mischievous than useful ? Therefore, if the Scrip
ture had not told us so, yet we might safely conclude, that
mankind are not now, as they were made at first ; but that
they are in a fallen state and condition.
II. From what has been said, plainly appears the ne
cessity of divine revelation. The deists deny the Scripture
to be the word of God, and hold that there is no revealed
religion ; that God has given mankind no other rule but
his own reason ; who is sufficient, without any word or
revelation from heaven, to give man a right understanding
of divine things, and of his duty. But how is it proved in
fact? How much trial has there been, whether man's
reason, without a revelation, would be sufficient or not !
The whole world, excepting one nation, had the trial till the
coming of Christ. And was not this long enough for trial,
whether man's reason alone was sufficient to instruct him ?
Those nations, who all that time lay in such gross dark
ness, and in such a deplorable helpless condition, had the
same natural reason that the deists have. And during this
time, there was not only one man, or a succession of single
persons, that had the trial, whether their own reason would
be sufficient to lead them to the knowledge of the truth ;
but all nations, who all had the same human faculties that
we have. If human reason is really sufficient, and there
be no need of any thing else, why has it never proved so ?
Why has it never happened, that so much as one nation, or
one city or town, or one assembly of men, have been
brought to tolerable notions of divine things, unless it be
by the revelation contained in the Scriptures ?. If it were
only one nation that had remained in such darkness, the
trial might not be thought so great ; because one particu
lar people might be under some disadvantages, which were
peculiar. But thus it has been with all nations, except
those which have been favoured with the Scriptures, and
in all ages. Where is any people, who to this day have
ever delivered themselves by their own reason, or have
been delivered without light fetched from the Scriptures,
or by means of the gospel of Jesus Christ 7
If human reason is sufficient without the Scripture, is it
not strange that, in these latter ages — since navigation has
been so improved, and America and many other parts of
the world have been discovered, which were before un
known — no one nation has any where been found already
enlightened, and possessed of true notions about the Di
vine Being and his perfections, by virtue of that human
reason they have been possessed of so many thousand
years ? The many poor, barbarous nations here, in Ameri
ca, had the faculty of reason to do what they pleased with,
before the Europeans came hither, and brought over the
light of the gospel. If human reason alone was sufficient,
it is strange, that no one people were found, in any corner
of the land, who were helped by it, in the chief concern
of man.
There has been a great trial, as to what men's reason
can do without divine help, in those endless disputes that
have been maintained. If human reason alone could help
mankind, it might be expected that these disputes would
have helped them, and have put an end to men's darkness.
The heathen philosophers had many hundreds of years to
try their skill in this way : but all without effect. That
divine revelation, which the church of God has been pos
sessed of, has been in the world " as a light shining in a
dark place."* It is the only remedy which God has pro
vided for the miserable, brutish blindness of mankind, a
remedy without which this fallen world would have sunk
down for ever in brutal barbarism without any remedy. It
is the only means that the true God has made successful
in his providence, to give the nations of the world the
knowledge of himself; and to bring them off from the
worship of false gods.
If human reason be the only proper means, the means
that God has designed for enlightening mankind, is it not
very strange, that it has not been sufficient, nor has an
swered this end in any one instance ? All the right specu
lative knowledge of the true God, which the deists them
selves have, has been derived from divine revelation. How

254

MAN'S NATURAL BLINDNESS IN RELIGION.

vain is it to dispute against feet, and the experience of so
many thousand years ! and to pretend that human reason
is sufficient without divine revelation, when so many
thousand years' experience, among so many hundreds of
nations, of different tempers, circumstances, and interests,
has proved the contrary ! One would think all should ac
knowledge, that so long a time is sufficient for a trial ;
especially considering the miseries that the poor nations of
the world have been under all this while, for want of
light : the innumerable temporal calamities and miseries —
such as sacrificing children, and many other cruelties to
others, and even to themseives — besides that eternal per
dition, which we may reasonably suppose to be the conse
quence of such darkness.
III. This doctrine should make us sensible, how great a
mercy it is to mankind, that God has sent his own Son into
the world, to be the light ofthe world. — The subject shows
what great need we stand in of some teacher to be sent
from God. And even some of the wiser men among the
heathen saw the need of this. They saw that they disputed
and jangled among themselves without coming to a satis
fying discovery of the truth ; and hence they saw, and
spoke of, the need there was of a teacher sent from heaven.
And it is a wonderful instance of divine mercy that God
has so beheld us in our low estate, as to provide such a
glorious remedy. He has not merely sent some created
ansel to instruct us, but his own Son, who is in the bosom
ofthe Father, and of the same nature and essence with
him ; and therefore infinitely better acquainted with him,
and more sufficient to teach a blind world. He has sent
him to be the light of the world, as he says of himself,
" I am come a light into the world."* When he came, he
brought glorious light. It was like the day-spring from
on high, visiting a dark world, as Zacharias observes.f
After Christ came, then the glorious gospel began to spread
abroad, delivering those "that had sitten in darkness, and
in the region of the shadow of death."
What reason have we to rejoice, and praise God, that he
has made such excellent provision for us ; and has set so
glorious a sun in our firmament, such a " Sun of righteous
ness," after we had extinguished the light which at first
enlightened us ; and had, as it were, brought the world
into that state, in which it was when "without form, and
void, and darkness was on the face of it."J — The glory of
that light which God has sent into the world, is fully an
swerable to the grossness of that darkness which filled it.
For Christ who came to enlighten us, is truth and light
itself, and the fountain of all light. "He is the light, and
in him is no darkness at all." §
IV. Hence we may learn, what must be the thing
which will bring to pass those glorious days of light,
which are spoken of in God's word. — Though mankind be
fallen into such darkness, and the world be mostly in the
kingdom of darkness ; yet the Scripture often speaks of a
glorious day, wherein light shall fill the earth. "For be
hold the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness
the people ; but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his
glory shall be seen upon thee. And the Gentiles shall
come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy
rising." || "And he will destroy in this mountain, the face
of the covering cast over allpeople, and the veil that is
spread over all nations." If " The knowledge of God shall
fill the earth, as the waters cover the sea."**
By what we have heard, we may on good grounds con
clude, that whenever this is accomplished, it will not be
effected by human learning, or by the skill or wisdom of
great men. What has been before observed of this
learned age, is a presumptive evidence of it ; wherein
spiritual darkness increases with the increase of learning.
God will again make foolish the wisdom of this world ;
and will, as it were, say in his providence, "Where is the
wise ? where is the scribe ? where is the disputer of this
world?" When this shall be accomplished, it will be by a re
markable pouring out qf God's own Spirit, with the plain
preaching qf the gospel of his Son ; the preaching of the
spiritual, mysterious doctrines of Christ crucified, which
to the learned men of this world are foolishness ; those

» John xii. 46. t Luke i. 77, 78, 79.
§ 1 John i. 5. || Isa. Ix. 2, 3.

t See
if Isa.

Jer. iv. 22, 23.
xxv. 7.

doctrines, which are the stumbling-block qf this learned age.
"Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the
Lord of hosts." It will not be by the enticing words of
man's wisdom ; but by the demonstration of the Spirit,
and of power. Not by the wisdom of this world, nor by
the princes of this world, that come to nought : but by
the gospel, that contains the wisdom of God in a mystery,
even the hidden wisdom, which none of the princes of
this world, who have nothing to enlighten them but their
own learning, know any thing of.
The Spirit of God, who searches all things, even the
deep things of God, must reveal it. For let natural men
be never so worldly wise and learned, they receive not the
things of the Spirit : they are foolishness to them ; nor
can they know them, because they are spiritually dis
cerned. This great effect, when it is accomplished, will
be a glorious effect indeed : and it will be accomplished
in such a manner, as most remarkably to show it to be the
work of God, and his only. It will be a more glorious
work of God than that which we read of in the beginning
of Genesis. "And the earth was without form and void,
and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the
Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters : and
God said, Let there be light, and there was light."ff
V. Hence we may learn the misery of all such persons,
as are under the power of that darkness which naturally pos
sesses their hearts. There are two degrees of this misery.
1 . That of which all who are in a natural condition are
the subjects. The doctrine shows, that all such as are in
a natural condition, are in a miserable condition : for they
are in an extremely dark and blind condition. It is un
comfortable living in darkness. What a sorrowful state
would we all be in, if the sun should no more rise upon
us, and the moon were to withdraw her shining, and tlie
stars to be put out, and we were to spend ¦ the rest of our
time in darkness ! The world would soon perish in such
darkness. It was a great plague in Egypt, when they had
a total darkness for three days. They who are deprived
of sight, are deprived of the most noble of the senses ; they
have no benefit of external light, one of the most excellent
and needful of all the things which God has made in the
visible creation. But they who are without spiritual sight
and light, are destitute of that which is far more excellent
and necessary.
That natural men are not sensible of their blindness, and
the misery they are under by reason of it, is no argument
that they are not miserable. For it is very much the nature
of this calamity to be hid from itself, or from those who
are under it. Fools are not sensible of their folly. Solomon
says, " The fool is wiser in his own conceit, than seven
men that can render a reason."+t The most barbarous
and brutish heathens are not sensible of their own dark
ness ; are not sensible but that they enjoy as great
light, and have as good understanding of things, as the
most enlightened nations in the world.
2. Another degree of this misery, is of those who are
judicially given up of God, to the blindness of their own
minds. The Scripture teaches us that there are some such.
"What then; Israel hath not obtained that which he
seeketh for, but the election hath obtained it, and the rest
were blinded." §§ "But their minds were blinded; for until
this day remaineth the same veil untaken away." |||[ " And
he said, Go and tell this people, Hear ye indeed, and under
stand not; and see ye indeed, and "perceive not. Make
the heart of this people fat, and their ears heavy, and shut
their eyes ; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with
their ears, and understand with their hearts, and convert
and be healed." W This judgment, when inflicted, is
commonly for the contempt and abuse of light which has
been offered, for the commission of presumptuous sins,
and for being obstinate in sin, and resisting the Holy
Ghost, and many gracious calls and counsels, warnings
and reproofs.
Who the particular persons are, that are thus judicially
fiven up of God to the blindness of their minds, is not
nown to men. But we have no reason to suppose that
there are not multitudes of them ; and most in places of
the greatest light. There is no manner of reason to sup-

*a Isa. xi. 9.
5 Rom. xi. 7.

tt Gen. i. 2, 3.
Illl 2 Cor. iii. 14.

tt Prov. xxvi. 16.
. f Isa. vi. 6, 10.

Sect. V.

ADDRESS TO SINNERS

255

pose, that this judgment, which is spoken of in Scripture,
is in a great measure peculiar to those old times. As there
were many who fell under it in the times of the prophets
of old, and of Christ and his apostles ; so doubtless there
are now also. And though the persons are not known,
yet doubtless there may be more reason to fear it con
cerning some than others. All who are under the power
of the blindness of their own minds, are miserable ; but
such as are given up to this blindness, are especially
miserable ; for they are reserved, and sealed over to the
blackness of darkness for ever.

SECT. V.
Address to sinners.
The consideration of what has been said of the desperate
blindness which possesses the hearts of us all naturally, may
well be terrifying to such as are yet in a Christless condi
tion, in this place of light ; where the gospel has been so
long enjoyed, and where God has in times past so won
derfully poured out his Spirit.
And let such persons, for their awakening, consider the
following things :
1. That they are blinded by the god of this world.
Their blindness is from hell. This darkness which natural
men are under, is from the prince of darkness. This the
apostle says expressly of those who remain in unbelief and
blindness under the gospel. " But if our gospel be hid,
it is hid from them that are lost ; in whom the God of this
world hath blinded the minds of them that believe not."*
They belong to the kingdom of darkness. In that dark
ness which reigns in their souls, the devil reigns ; and he
holds his dominion there.
2. Consider how God in his word manifests his abhor
rence and wrath towards those who remain so sottishly
blind and ignorant, in the midst of light. How does God
speak of them ! " Have all the workers of iniquity no
knowledge ?"+ " Forty years long was I grieved with this
generation, and said, It is a people that do err in their
heart, and they have not known my ways. Unto whom
I sware in my wrath, that they should not enter into my
rest." J " The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his
master's crib : but Israel doth not know, my people doth
not consider. Ah, sinful nation ! — they have provoked
the Holy One of Israel unto anger." § " It is a people
of no understanding ; therefore he that made them will
not have mercy on them, and he that formed them will
show them no favour." || " My people is foolish, they
have not known me, they are sottish children, and they
have no understanding : they are wise to do evil, but to do
good they have no knowledge." IT " Declare this in the
house of Jacob, and publish it in the house of Judah,
saying, Hear now this, O foolish people, and without
understanding, which have eyes and see not, which have
ears and hear not. Fear ye not me, saith the Lord ; will
ye not tremble at my presence ?"**
3. Consider how much wilfulness there is in your igno
rance. Sinners are ready wholly to excuse themselves in
their blindness ; whereas, as observed already, the blind
ness that naturally possesses the hearts of men, is not a
merely negative thing ; but they are blinded by " the
deceitfulness of sin ."ft There is a perverseness in their
blindness. There is not a mere absence of light, but a
malignant opposition to the light ; as God says, " they
know not, neither will they understand, they walk on in
darkness."f+ Christ observes, " that every one that
doeth evil, hateth the light, neither cometh to the light."
And that " this is their condemnation, that light is come
into the world, yet men loved darkness rather than
light." §§ And I may appeal to your own consciences,
whether you have not wilfully rejected the many instruc
tions you have had ; and refused to hearken ? Whether
you have not neglected to seek after the light, and neg
lected your Bible ? Whether you have not been a very
negligent hearer of the word preached, and neglected
other proper means of knowledge? Whether you have

* 2 Cor. iv. 3, 4.
§ Isa. i. 3, 4.
•• Jer. v. 20, 21,22.

t Psal. xiv. 4.
|| Isa. xwii 10.
tt Heb. iii. 13.

I Psal.xcv. 10, 11.
T Jer. iv. 22.
It Psal. lxxii. 5.

not neglected to cry to God for that wisdom which you
need ? Yea, have you not resisted the means of know
ledge ? Have you not resisted and quenched the motions
of the Spirit, which at times you have had ? And taken a
course to make yourself more and more stupid, by stifling
the convictions of your own conscience, and doing con
trary to the light thereof; whereby you have done those
things that have tended to sear your conscience, and make
yourself more and more senseless and sottish 7
4. Consider what is the course that God will take to
teach those who will not be taught by the instructions of
his word. He will teach them by briers and thorns, and
by the flames of hell. Though natural men will remain
to all eternity ignorant of the excellency and loveliness of
God's nature, and so will have no spiritual knowledge ;
yet God in another world will make them thoroughly to
understand many things, which senseless unawakened sin
ners are sottishly ignorant of in this world. Their eyes in
many respects shall be thoroughly opened in hell. Their
judgments will be rectified. They shall be of the same
judgment with the godly. They shall be convinced of
the reality of those mings which they would not be con
vinced of here ; as the being of God ; his power, holiness,
and justice ; that the Scriptures are the word of God ; that
Christ is the Son of God ; and that time is short and un
certain. They will be convinced of the vanity of the
world ; of the blessed opportunity they had in the world ;
and how much it is men's wisdom to Improve their time.
We read of the rich man, who was so sottishly blind in
this world, that " in hell he lift up his eyes, and saw
Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom." |||| With
many men, alas ! the first time they open their eyes is in
hell. God will make all men to know the truth of those great
things which he speaks of in his word, one way or an
other ; for he will vindicate his own truth. He has
undertaken to convince all men. They who will not be
convinced in this world, by the gentle and gracious
methods which God uses with them now, shall be con
vinced hereafter by severe means. . If they will not be
convinced for salvation, they shall be convinced by
damnation. God will make them know that he is the
Lord. And he will make them know that he bears rule.
" Consume them in wrath, that they may not be ; and let
them know that God ruleth in Jacob, unto the ends of
the earth." HIT " Let them be confounded and troubled
for ever : yea, let them be put to shame, and perish. That
men may know that thou, whose name is Jehovah, art the
Most High over all the earth." ***
What great care we had need all have, that we be not
deceived in matters of religion. If our hearts are all
naturally possessed with such an extreme brutish ignorance
and blindness in things of religion, and we are exceedingly
prone to delusion; then surely great care ought to be
taken to avoid it. For that we are naturally prone to
delusion, shows our danger : but the greater our danger of
any calamity is, the greater had our watchfulness need to
be. — Let us therefore be hence warned to take heed that
we be not deceived about our duty ; about our own hearts ;
about our ways ; about our state ; and about our oppor
tunities. Thousands are deceived in these things, and
thousands perish by that means. Multitudes fall on our
right hand and on our left, and are ruined eternally by
their delusion in these things.
How foolish a thing it is for men to lean to their own
understanding, and trust their own hearts. If we are so
blind, then our own wisdom is not to be depended on ;
and that advice of the wise man is most reasonable ;
" Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not to
thine own understanding." -t-ff " And he that trusteth in
his own heart, is a fool."J]+ — They therefore are fools, who
trust to their own wisdom, and will question the mys
terious doctrines of religion ; because they cannot see
through them, and will not trust to the infinite wisdom of
God. Let us therefore become fools ; be sensible of our own
natural blindness and folly. There is a treasure of wis-

S.S John iii. 19, 20.
"» Psal. lxxxiii. 17, 18.

till Luke xvi. 23.
HI Prov. xxviii. 26.

1 . Psal. lix. 13.
ttt Prov. iii. 5.

256

MAN'S NATURAL BLINDNESS IN RELIGION.

dom contained in that one sentence ; " If any man among
you seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a
fool, that he may be wise."* Seeing our own ignorance,
and blindness, is the first step towards having true know
ledge. " If any man think that he knoweth any thing,
he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know." f
Let us ask wisdom of God. If we are so blind in
ourselves, then knowledge is not to be sought for out of
our own stock, but must be sought from some other

« 1 Cor. iii. IS

t 1 Cor. viii. 2.

source. And we have no where else to go for it, but to
the fountain of light and wisdom. True wisdom is a
precious jewel ; and none of our fellow-creatures can give
it us, nor can we buy it with anyprice we have to give.
It is the sovereign gift of God. The way to obtain it, is
to go to him, sensible of our weakness, and blindness, and
misery on that account. " If any lack vrisdom, let him ask
ofGo'd."J

J James i. 5.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS

WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD,
APPLIED TO THAT UNCOMMON OPERATION THAT HAS LATELY APPEARED ON THE MINDS OF MANY OF THE PEOPLE OF
NEyV ENGLAND;

PARTICULAR CONSIDERATION OF THE EXTRAORDINARY CIRCUMSTANCES WITH
WHICH THIS WORK IS ATTENDED.

MR. COOPER'S PREFACE TO THE READER.
There are several dispensations, or days of grace, which the church of God has been under from the beginning of
time. There is that under the ancient patriarchs ; that under the law of Moses ; and there is that of the gospel of
Jesus Christ, under which we now are. This is the brightest day that ever shone, and exceeds the other, for peculiar
advantages. To us who are so happy as to live under the evangelical dispensation, may those words of our Saviour be
directed, which he spake to his disciples, when he was first setting up the Messiah's kingdom in the world, and gospel-
light and power began to spread abroad : " Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see. For I tell you, that
many prophets and kings have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them ; and to hear those
things which ye hear, and have not heard them."*
The Mosaic dispensation, though darkened with types and figures, yet far exceeded the former : but the gospel
dispensation so much exceeds in glory, that it eclipses the glory of the legal, as the stars disappear when the sun
ariseth, andgoeth forth in his strength. — And the chief thing that renders the gospel so glorious is, that it is tlie minis
tration of the Spirit. Under the preaching of it, the Holy Spirit was to be poured out in more plentiful measures ;
not only in miraculous gifts, as in the first times of the gospel, but in his internal saving operations, accompanying the
outward ministry, to produce numerous conversions to Christ, and give spiritual life to souls that were before dead in
trespasses and sins, and so prepare them for eternal life. Thus the apostle speaks, when he runs a comparison between
the Old Testament and the New, the law of Moses and the gospel of Jesus Christ : "For the letter killeth, but the
Spirit giveth life. But if the ministration of death, written and engraven in stones, was glorious, so that the children
of Israel could not stedfastly behold the face of Moses, for the glory of his countenance, which glory was to be done
away ; how shall not the ministration of the Spirit be rather glorious ?"f
Ttiis blessed time of the gospel hath several other denominations, which may raise our esteem and value for it. It
is called by the evangelical prophet, " The acceptable year of the Lord."l Or, as it may be read, the year qf liking, or
of benevolence, or of the good will of the Lord ; because it would be the special period in which he would display
his grace and favour, in an extraordinary manner, and deal out spiritual blessings with a full and liberal hand.  It is
also styled by our Saviour, the regeneration,! which may refer not only to that glorious restitution of all things, which
is looked for at the close of the christian dispensation, but to the renewing work of grace in particular souls, carried
on from the beginning to the end of it. But few were renewed and sanctified under the former dispensations, compared
with the instances of the grace of God in gospel-times. Such numbers were brought into the gospel-church when it
was first set up, as to give occasion for that pleasing admiring question, which was indeed a prophecy of it,|| "Who
are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows ? " Then the power of the divine Spirit so accom-
tianied the ministry of the word, as that thousands were converted under one sermon.  But notwithstanding this
ai'ge effusion of the Spirit, when gospel-light first dawned upon the world — that pleasant spring of religion which then
appeared on the face of the earth — there was a gradual withdrawing of his saving light and influences ; and so the
gospel came to be less successful, and the state of Christianity withered in one place and another.
Indeed at the time of the Reformation from popery, when gospel-light broke in upon the church, and dispelled the
clouds of antichristian darkness that covered it, the power of divine grace so accompanied the preaching of the word,
as that it had admirable success in the conversion and edification of souls ; and the blessed fruits thereof appeared in
the hearts and lives of its professors. ¦ That was one of " the days of the Son of man," on which the exalted Redeemer
rode forth, in his glory and majesty, on the white horse of the pure gospel, " conquering and to conquer ; " and the bow
in his hand, like that of Jonathan, returned not empty. But what a dead and barren time has it now been, for a great
while, with all the churches of the Reformation ? The golden showers have been restrained ; the influences of the
Spirit suspended ; and the consequence has been, that the gospel has not had any eminent success: Conversions have
been rare and dubious ; few sons and daughters have been born to God ? and the hearts of Christians not so quickened,
warmed, and refreshed under the ordinances, as they have been.
That this has been the sad state of religion among us in this land, for many years (except one or two distinguished
» Luke x. 28, 24. t 2 Cor. iii. 6, 7, 8. I Isa. lxi. 2. § Matt. xix. 28. II Isa. Ix. 8.
VOL. II. S

258 PREFACE.
places, which have at times heen visited with a shower of mercy, while other towns and churches have not been rained
upon,) will be acknowledged by all who have spiritual senses exercised, as it has been lamented by faithful ministers
and serious Christians. Accordingly it has been a constant petition in our public prayers, from sabbath to sabbath,
"That God would pour out his Spirit upon us, and revive his work in the midst of the years." And besides our annual
fast-days appointed by government, most of the churches have set apart days, wherein to seek the Lord by prayer and
fastingj that he would "come and rain down righteousness upon us. '
And now,  " Behold ! the Lord whom we have sought, has suddenly come to his temple." The dispensation or
grace we are now under, is certainly such as neither we nor our fathers have seen ; and in some circumstances so
wonderful, that I believe there has not been the like since the extraordinary pouring out of the Spirit immediately after
our Lord's ascension. The apostolical times seem to have returned upon us : such a display has there been of the
power and grace of the divine Spirit in the assemblies of his people, and such testimonies has he given to the word of
the gospel.
I remember a remarkable passage of the late reverend and learned Mr. Howe, which I think it may be worth while
to transcribe here. It is in his discourse concerning the " the Prosperous State of the Christian Church before the End
of Time, by a plentiful Effusion of the Holy Spirit," page 80. " In such a time," says he, " when the Spirit shall he
poured forth plentifully, surely ministers shall have their proportionable share. And when such a time as that shall
come, I believe you wili hear much other kind of sermons (or they will who shall live to such a time) than you are
wont to do now-a-days : souls will surely be dealt with at another rate. It is plain, (says he,) too sadly plain, there is
a great retraction of the Spirit of God even from us. We know not how to speak living sense into souls ; how to get
within you : our words die in our mouths, or drop and die between you and us. We even faint when we speak ; long-
experienced unsuccessfulness makes us despond : we speak not as persons that hope to prevail, that expect to make
you serious, heavenly, mindful of God, and to walk more like Christians. The methods of alluring and convincing
souls, even that some of us have known, are lost from amongst us in a great part. There have been other ways taken,
than we can tell now how to fall upon, for the mollifying of the obdurate, and the awakening of the secure, and the
convincing and persuading of the obstinate, and the winning of the disaffected. Surely there will be a large share,
that will come even to the part of ministers, when such an effusion of the Spirit shall be, as it is expected : that they
shall know how to speak to better purpose, with more compassion, with more seriousness, with more authority and al
lurement, than we now find we can."
Agreeable to the just expectation of this great and excellent man, we have found it in this remarkable day. A
number ot preachers haveappeared among us, to whom God has given such a large measure of his Spirit, that we are ready
sometimes to apply to them the character given of Barnabas, that " he was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost,
and of faith."* They preach the gospel of the grace of God from place to place, with uncommon zeal and assiduity.
The doctrines they insist on, are the doctrines of the reformation, under the influence whereof the power of godliness
so flourished in the last century. The points on which their preaching mainly turns, are those important ones of man's
guilt, corruption, and impotence ; supernatural regeneration by the Spirit of God, and free justification by faith in
the righteousness of Christ; and the marks ofthe new birth.— The manner of their preaching is not with the enticing
words of man's wisdom ; howbeit, they speak wisdom among them that are perfect. An ardent love to Christ and
souls, warms their breasts, and animates their labours. God has made those his ministers active spirits, a flame of fire
in his service ; and his word in their mouths has been " as a fire, and as a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces."
In most places where they have laboured, God has evidently wrought with them, and " confirmed the word by signs
following." Such a power and presence of God in religious assemblies, has not been known since God set up his
sanctuary amongst us. He has indeed "glorified the house of his glory."
This work is truly extraordinary, in respect of its extent. It is more or less in the several provinces that measure
many hundred miles on this continent. " He sendeth forth his commandment on earth ! his word runneth very swiftly."
It has entered and spread in some of the most populous towns, the chief places of concourse and business. And 
blessed be God ! — it has visited the seats of learning, both here, and in a neighbouring colony. O may the Holy Spirit
constantly reside in them both, seize our devoted youth, and form them as polished shafts, successfully to fight the
Lord's battles against the powers of darkness, when they shall be called out to service ! — It is extraordinary also with
respect to the numbers that have been the subjects of this operation. Stupid sinners have been awakened by hundreds ;
and the inquiry has been general in some places, " What must I do to be saved." I verily believe, that in this our
metropolis, there were the last winter some thousands under such religious impressions as they never felt before.
The work has been remarkable also for the various sorts of persons that have been under its influence. — These have
been of all ages. Some elderly persons have been snatched as brands out of the burning, made monuments of divine
mercy, and born to God, though out of due time ; as the apostle speaks in his own case.f But here, with us, it has
lain mostly among the young. Sprightly youth have been made to bow like willows to the Redeemer's sceptre, and
willingly to subscribe with their own hands to the Lord. And out of the mouths of babes, some little children, has
God ordained to himself praise, to still the enemy and the avenger. — They have also been of all ranks and degrees.
Some of the great and rich ; but more of the low and poor. — Of other countries and nations. Ethiopia has stretched
out her hand : some poor negroes have, I trust, been brought into the glorious liberty of the children of God. — Of
all qualities and conditions. The most ignorant ; the foolish things of the world, babes in knowledge, have been made
wise unto salvation, and taught those heavenly truths, which have been hid from the wise and prudent. Some of the
learned and knowing among men, have had those things revealed to them of the Father in heaven, which flesh and
blood do not teach : and of these, some who had gone into the modern notions, and had no other than the polite re
ligion of the present times, have had their prejudices conquered, their carnal reasonings overcome, and their under
standings made to bow to gospel mysteries ; they now receive the truth as it is in Jesus, and their faith no longer
" stands in the wisdom of man but in the power of God." Some of the most rude and disorderly are become regular
in their behaviour, and sober in all things. The gay and airy are become grave and serious.
Some of the greatest sinners have appeared to be turned into real saints : drunkards have become temperate ; for
nicators and adulterers of a chaste conversation ; swearers and profane persons have learned to fear that glorious and
fearful Name, the Lord their God ; and carnal worldlings have been made to seek first the kingdom of God and
his righteousness. Yea, deriders and scoffers at this work and its instruments, have come under its conquering power.
Some of this stamp, who have gone to hear the preacher, (as some did. Paul— " What will this babbler say ?')— have
not been able to resist the power and the Spirit with which he spake ; have sat trembling under the word, and gone
away from it weeping ; and afterward did cleave unto the preacher, as Dionysius the Areopagite did unto Paul.+
Divers instances of this kind have fallen under my knowledge.
The virtuous and civil have been convinced that morality is not to be relied on for life ; and so excited to seek after
the new birth, and a vital union to Jesus Christ by faith. The formal professor likewise has been awakened out of his
dead formalities, brought under the power of godliness ; taken off from his false rests, and brought to build his hope
•» Actsxi. 21. tlCor. jev. I Acts xvii. 18,34.

PREFACE. 259
only on the Mediator's righteousness. At the same time, many of the children qf God have been greatly quickened
and refreshed ; have been awakened out of the sleeping frames they were fallen into, and excited to give diligence to make
their calling and election sure ; and have had precious, reviving, and sealing times.  Thus extensive and general the
divine influence has been at this glorious season.
One thing more is worthy of remark ; and this is the uniformity of the work. By the accounts I have received in
letters, and conversation with ministers and others, who live in different parts of the land where this work is going on,
it is the same work that is carried on in one place and another : the method of the Spirit's operation on the minds of
the people is the same ; though with some variety of circumstances, as is usual at other times : and the particular ap
pearances with which this work is attended, that have not been so common at other times, are also much the same.
These are indeed objected by many against the work ; but though conversion is the same work, in the main strokes of
it, wherever it is wrought ; yet it seems reasonable to suppose that at an extraordinary season wherein God is pleased
to carry on a work of his grace in a more observable and glorious manner, in a way which he would have to be taken
notice of by the world ; at such a time, I say, it seems reasonable to suppose, that there may be some particular ap
pearances in the work of conversion, which are not common at other times — when yet there are true conversions wrought
— or some circumstances attending the work may be carried to an unusual degree and height. If it were not thus,
the work ofthe Lord would not be so much regarded and spoken of ; and so God would not have so much of the glory
of it. Nor would the work itself be like to spread so fast ; for God has evidently made use of example and dis
course in the carrying of it on.
And as to the fruits of this work, (which we have been bid so often to wait for,) blessed be God ! so far as there has
been time for observation, they appear to be abiding. I do not mean that none have lost their impressions, or that there
are no instances of hypocrisy and apostacy. Scripture and experience lead us to expect these, at such a season. It is
to me matter of surprise and thankfulness that as yet there have been no more. But I mean, that a great number of
those who have been awakened are still seeking and striving to enter in at the strait gate. The most of those who
have been thought to be converted, continue to give evidence of their being new creatures, and seem to cleave to the
Lord with full purpose of heart. To be sure, a new face of things continues in this town : though many circumstances
concur to render such a work not so observable here,* as in smaller and distant places. Many things not becoming the
profession of the gospel are in a measure reformed. Taverns, dancing-schools, and such meetings as have been called
assemblies, which have always proved unfriendly to serious godliness,are much less frequented. Many have reduced their
dress and apparel, so as to make them look more like the followers of the humble Jesus. And it has been both surprising
and pleasant to see how some younger people, and of that sex too which is most fond of such vanities, have put off
the " bravery of their ornaments," as the effect and indication of their seeking the inward glories of " the King's
daughter." Religion is now much more the subject of conversation at friends' houses, than ever I knew it. The
doctrines of grace are espoused and relished. Private religious meetings are greatly multiplied. — The public assemblies
(especially lectures) are much better attended ; and our auditors were never so attentive and serious. There is indeed
an extraordinary appetite after " the sincere milk of the word."
It is more than a twelvemonth since an evening lecture was set up in this town : there are now several : two con
stantly on Tuesday and Friday evenings ; when some of our most capacious houses are well filled with hearers, who by
their looks and deportment seem to come to hear that their souls might live. An evening in God's courts is now
esteemed better than many elsewhere. There is also great resort to ministers in private. Our hands continue full of
work : and many times we have more than we can discourse with distinctly and separately. — I have been thus large
and particular, that persons at a distance, who are desirous to know the present state of religion here, into whose hands
these papers will come, may receive some satisfaction.
And now, can any be at a loss to what spirit to ascribe this work ? To attribute it, as some do, to the devil, is to
make the old serpent like the foolish woman, " who plucked down her house with her hands. "f Our Saviour has
taught us to argue otherwise in such a case as this. " Every kingdom divided against itself, shall not stand. And if
Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against himself: how then shall his kingdom stand ?"J
That some entertain prejudices against this work, and others revile and reproach it, does not make it look less like a
work of God : it would else want one mark of its being so ; for the spirit of this world, and the spirit which is of
God, are contrary the one to the other. I do not wonder that Satan rages, and shows his rage in some that are under
his influence, when his kingdom is so shaken, and his subjects desert him by hundreds, I hope by thousands. — The
prejudices of some, I make no doubt, are owing to the want of opportunity to be rightly informed, and their having re
ceived misrepresentations from abroad. Others may be offended, because they have not experienced any thing like such
a work in themselves ; and if these things be so, they must begin again, and get another foundation laid than that on
which they have built ; and this is what men are hardly brought to. And others, perhaps, may dislike the present work,
because it supports and confirms some principles which they have not yet embraced, and against which such prejudices
hang about their minds, as they cannot easily shake off. For it is certain, these fruits do not grow on Arminian ground.
I hope none dislike the work, because they have not been used as instruments in it. For if we love our Lord Jesus
Christ in sincerity, we shall rejoice to see him increase, though we should decrease. If any are resolutely set to dis
believe this work, to reproach and oppose it, they must be left to the free sovereign power and mercy of God to enlighten
and rescue them. These, if they have had opportunity to be rightly informed, I am ready to think, would have been
disbelievers, and opposers of the miracles and mission of our Saviour, had they lived in his days. The malignity which
some of them have discovered, to me approaches near to the unpardonable sin ; and they had need beware, lest they
indeed sin the sin which is unto death : for as I believe it can be committed in these days, as well as in the days of the
apostles, so I think persons are now in more danger of committing it than at other times. At least, let them come
under the awe of that word, Psal. xxviii. 5. " Because they regard not the works of the Lord, nor the operation of his
hands, he shall destroy them, and not build them up."
But if any are disposed to receive conviction, have a mind open to light, and are really willing to know of the present
work whether it be of God, it is with great satisfaction and pleasure I can recommend to them the following sheets ; in
which they will find the " distinguishing marks" of such a work, as they are to be found in the Holy Scriptures, applied
to the uncommon operation that has been on the minds of many in this land. Here the matter is tried by the infallible
touchstone of the Holy Scriptures, and is weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, with great judgment and impartiality.
A performance of this kind is seasonable and necessary ; and I desire heartily to bless God, who inclined this his
servant to undertake it, and has graciously assisted him in it. The Reverend Author is known to be " a scribe in
structed unto the kingdom of heaven ;" the place where he has been called to exercise his ministry has been famous for
experimental religion ; and he has had opportunities to observe this work in many places where it has powerfully ap
peared, and to converse with numbers that have been the subjects of it. These things qualify him for this undertaking
above most. His arguments in favour of the work, are strongly drawn from Scripture, reason, and experience : and I
shall believe every candid, judicious reader will say, he writes very free from an enthusiastic or a party spirit. The
* i. c. Boston, in New England. t Prov. xiv. 1. 1 Matt, xii, 25, 26.
S 2

260

PREFACE.

use of human learning is asserted; a methodical way of preaching, the fruit of study as well as prayer, is recommend
ed ; and the exercise of charity in judging others pressed and urged : and those things which are esteemed the blemishes,
and are like to be the hinderances of the work, are with great faithfulness cautioned and warned against.  Many, I
believe, will be thankful for this publication. Those who have already entertained favourable thoughts of this work,
will be confirmed by it ; and the doubting may be convinced and satisfied. But if there are any who cannot after all
see the signatures of a divine hand on the work, it is to be hoped they will be prevailed on to spare their censures, and
stop their oppositions, lest " haply they should be found even to fight against God."
I had yet several things to say, which I see I must suppress, or I shall go much beyond the limits of a preface : and I
fear I need to ask pardon both of the reader and the publishers for the length 1 have run already. Only I cannothelp express
ing my wish, that those who have been conversant in this work, in one place and another, would transmit accounts of it
to such a hand as the Reverend Author of this discourse, to be compiled into a narrative, like that of the conversions
at Northampton, which was published a few years ago ; that so the world may know this surprising dispensation, in the
beginning, progress, and various circumstances of it. This, I apprehend, would be for the honour of the Holy Spirit,
whose work and office has been treated so reproachfully in the christian world. It would be an open attestation to
the divinity of a despised gospel : and it might have a happy effect on the other places, where the sound of this marvel
lous work would by this means be heard. I cannot but think it would be one of the most useful pieces of church
history the people of God are blessed with. Perhaps it would come the nearest to the Acts of the Apostles of any
thing extant ; and all the histories in the world do not come up to that : there we have something as surprising as in the
book of Genesis ; and a new creation, of another kind, seems to open to our view. But I must forbear.
I will only add my prayer, That the worthy Author of this discourse may long be continued a burning and shining
light in the golden candlestick where Christ has placed him, and from thence diffuse his light through these provinces !
That the divine Spirit, whose cause is here espoused, would accompany this and the other valuable publications of his
servant, with his powerful influences ; that they may promote the Redeemer's interest, serve the ends of vital religion,
and so add to the Author's present joy, and future crown !
W. COOPER.
Boston, Nov. 20, 1741.

THE

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE TRUE SPIRIT.

1 John iv. 1.
Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whe
ther they are qf God : because many false prophets are
gone out into the world.
In the apostolic age, there was the greatest outpouring
of the Spirit of God that ever was ; both as to his extraor
dinary influences and gifts, and his ordinary operations, in
convincing, converting, enlightening, and sanctifying the
souls of men. But as the influences of the true Spirit
abounded, so counterfeits did also abound : the devil was
abundant in mimicking, both the ordinary and extraordi
nary influences of the Spirit of God, as is manifest by
innumerable passages of the apostles' writings. This made
it very necessary that the church of Christ should be fur
nished with some certain rules, distinguishing and clear
marks, by which she might proceed safely in judging of
the true from the false without danger of being imposed
upon. The giving of such rules is the plain design of this
chapter, where we have this matter more expressly and
fully treated of than any where else in the Bible. The
apostle, of set purpose, undertakes to supply the church of
God with such marks of the true Spirit as may be plain
and safe, and well accommodated to use and practice ;
and that the subject might be clearly and sufficiently
handled, he insists upon it throughout the chapter, which
makes it wonderful that what is here said is no more taken
notice of in this extraordinary day, when there is such an
uncommon and extensive operation on the minds of peo
ple, such a variety of opinions concerning it, and so much
talk about the work of the Spirit.
The apostle's discourse on this subject is introduced by
an occasional mention of the indwelling of the Spirit, as
the sure evidence of an interest in Christ. " And he that
keepeth his commandments dwelleth in him, and he in
him ; and hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the
Spirit which he hath given us." Whence we may infer,
that the design of the apostle is not only to give marks
whereby to distinguish the true Spirit from the false, in
bis extraordinary gifts of prophecy and miracles, but also

in his ordinary influences on the minds of his people, in
order to their union to Christ, and being built up in him ;
which is also manifest from the marks themselves that are
given, which we shall hereafter notice.
The words of the text are an introduction to this dis
course of the distinguishing signs of the true and false
Spirit. — Before the apostle proceeds to lay down these
signs, he exhorteth Christians, first, against an over.credu-
lousness, and a forwardness to admit every specious ap
pearance as the work of a true Spirit. " Beloved, believe
not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of
God." And, second, he shows, that there were many
counterfeits, " because many false prophets were gone out
into the world." These did not only pretend to nave the
Spirit of God in his extraordinary gifts of inspiration, but
also to be the great friends and favourites of heaven, to be
eminently holy persons, and to have much of the ordinary
saving, sanctifying influences of the Spirit of God on their
hearts. Hence we are to look upon these words as a
direction to examine and try their pretences to the Spirit
of God, in both these respects.
My design therefore at this time is to show what are the
true, certain, and distinguishing evidences of a work of the
Spirit of God, by which we may safely proceed in judging
of any operation we find in ourselves, or see in others.
And here I would observe, that we are to take the Scrip
tures as our guide in such cases. This is the great and
standing rule which God has given to his church, in order
to guide them in things relating to the great concerns of
their souls ; and it is an infallible and sufficient rule.
There are undoubtedly sufficient marks given to guide the
church of God in this great affair of judging of spirits,
without which it would lie open to woeful delusion, and
would be remedilessly exposed to be imposed on and
devoured by its enemies. And we need not be afraid to
trust these rules. Doubtless that Spirit who indited the
Scriptures knew how to give us good rules, by which to
distinguish his operations from all that is falsely pretended
to be from him. And this, as I observed before, the Spirit
of God has here done of set purpose, and done it more
particularly and fully than any where else : so that in my

Sect. I.

NEGATIVE SIGNS OF A SPIRITUAL WORK.

261

present discourse I shall go no where else for rules or
marks for the trial of spirits, but shall confine myself to
those that I find in this chapter. — But before I proceed
particularly to speak to these, I would prepare my way
by, first, observing negatively, in some instances, what
are not signs or evidences of a work of the Spirit of God.
SECT. I.
Negative Signs ; or, What are no signs by which we are
to judge of a work— and especially, What are no evidences
that a work is not from the Spirit qf God.
I. Nothing can be certainly concluded from this, That
a work is carried on in a way very unusual and extraordi
nary ; provided the variety or difference be such, as may
still be comprehended within the limits of scripture rules.
What the church has been used to, is not a rule by which
we are to judge ; because there may be new and extraor
dinary works of God, and he has heretofore evidently
wrought in an extraordinary manner. He has brought to
pass new things, strange works ; and has wrought in such
a manner as to surprise both men and angels. And as
God has done thus in times past, so we have no reason
to think but that he will do so still. The prophecies of
Scripture give us reason to think that God has things to
accomplish, which have never yet been seen. No devia
tion from what has hitherto been usual, let it be never so
great, is an argument that a work is not from the Spirit of
God, if it be no deviation from his prescribed rule. The
Holy Spirit is sovereign in his operation ; and we know
that he uses a great variety ; and we cannot tell how great
a variety he may use, within the compass of the rules he
himself has fixed. We ought not to limit God where he
has not limited himself.
Therefore it is not reasonable to determine that a work
is not from God's Holy Spirit because of the extraordinary
degree in which the minds of persons are influenced. If
they seem to have an extraordinary conviction of the dread
ful nature of sin, and a very uncommon sense of the misery
of a Christless condition — or extraordinary views of the
certainty and glory of divine things, — and are proportion
ably moved with very extraordinary affections of fear and
sorrow, desire, love, or joy : or if the apparent change be
very sudden, and the work be carried on with very unusual
swiftness — and the persons affected are very numerous,
and many of them are very young, with other unusual cir
cumstances, not infringing upon scripture marks of a work
of the Spirit — these things are no argument that the work
is not of the Spirit of God. — The extraordinary and un
usual degree of influence, and power of operation, if in
its nature it be agreeable to the rules and marks given in
Scripture, is rather an argument in its favour ; for by how
much higher the degree which in its nature is agreeable to
the rule, so much the more is there of conformity to the
rule; and so much the more evident that conformity.
When things are in small degrees, though they be really
agreeable to the rule, it is not so easily seen whether their
nature agrees with the rule.
There is a great aptness in persons to doubt of things
that are strange ; especially elderly persons, to think that
to be right which they have never been used to in their day,
and have not heard' of in the days of their fathers. But
if it be a good argument that a work is not from the Spirit
of God, that it is very unusual, then it was so in the apos
tles' days. The work ofthe Spirit then, was carried on in
a manner that, in very many respects, was altogether new ;
such as never had been seen or heard since the world
stood. The work was then carried on with more visible
and remarkable power than ever ; nor had there been seen
before such mighty and wonderful effects of the Spirit of
God in sudden changes, and such great engagedness and
zeal in great multitudes — such a sudden alteration in
towns, cities, and countries ; such a swift progress, and
vast extent of the work — and many other extraordinary
circumstances might be mentioned. The great unusual-
ness of the work surprised the Jews ; they knew not what
to make of it, but could not believe it to be the work of
God : many looked upon the persons that were the sub
jects of it as bereft of reason ; as you may see in Acts ii.
13. xxvi. 24. and 1 Cor. iv. 10.

And we have reason from scripture prophecy to suppose,
that at the commencement of that last and greatest out
pouring of the Spirit of God, that is to be in the latter ages
of the world, the manner of the work will be very extra
ordinary, and such as never has yet been seen ; so that
there shall be occasion then to say, as in Isa. lxvi. 8. " Who
hath heard such a thing ? Who hath seen such things ?
Shall the earth be made to bring forth in one day ? Shaft a
nation be born at once ? for as soon as Zion travailed, she
brought forth her children." lt may be reasonably ex
pected that the extraordinary manner of the work then,
will bear some proportion to the very extraordinary events,
and that glorious change in the state of the world, which
God will bring to pass by it.
II. A work is not to be judged of by any effects on
the bodies of men ; such as tears, trembling, groans, loud
outcries; agonies of body, or the failing of bodily strength.
The influence persons are under, is not to be judged of
one way or other, by such effects on the body ; and the
reason is, because the Scripture nowhere gives us any such
rule. We cannot conclude that persons are under the
influence of the true Spirit because we see such effects
upon their bodies, because this is not given as a mark of
the true Spirit; nor on the other hand, have we any reason
to conclude, from any such outward appearances, that
persons are not under the influence of the Spirit of God,
because there is no rule of Scripture given us to judge of
spirits by, that does either expressly or indirectly exclude
such effects on the body, nor does reason exclude them.
It is easily accounted for from the consideration of the
nature of divine and eternal things, and the nature of
man, and the laws of the union between soul and body,
how a right influence, a true and proper sense of things,
should have such effects on the body, even those that are
of the most extraordinary kind, such as taking away the
bodily strength, or throwing the body into great agonies,
and extorting loud outcries. There are none of us but do
suppose, and would have been ready at any time to say it,
that the misery of hell is doubtless so dreadful, and eternity
so vast, that if a person should have a clear apprehension
of that misery as it is, it would be more than his feeble
frame could bear, and especially if at the same time he
saw himself in great danger of it, and to be utterly uncer
tain whether he should be delivered from it, yea, and to
have no security from it one day or hour. If we consider
human nature, we must not wonder, that when persons
have a great sense of that which is so amazingly dreadful,
and also have a great view of their own wickedness and
God's anger, that things seem to" them to forebode speedy
and immediate destruction. We see the nature of man
to be such that when he is in danger of some terrible
calamity to which he is greatly exposed, he is ready upon
every occasion to think, that now it is coming. — When
persons' hearts are full of fear, in time of war, they are
ready to tremble at the shaking of a leaf, and to expect
the enemy every minute, and to say within themselves,
now I shall be slain. If we should suppose that a person
saw himself hanging over a great pit, full of fierce and
glowing flames, by a thread that he knew to be very weak,
and not sufficient to bear his weight, and knew that multi
tudes had been in such circumstances before, and that
most of them had fallen and perished, and saw nothing
within reach, that he could take hold of to save him, what
distress would he be in ! How ready to think that now the
thread was breaking, that now, this minute, he should be
swallowed up in those dreadful flames ! And would not
he be ready to cry out in such circumstances 7 How much
more those that see themselves in this manner hanging
over an infinitely more dreadful pit, or held over it in the
hand of God, who at the same time they see to be ex
ceedingly provoked ! No wonder that the wrath of God,
when manifested but a little to the soul, overbears human
strength. So it may easily be accounted for, that a true sense of
the glorious excellency of the Lord Jesus Christ, and of
his wonderful dying love, and the exercise of a truly
spiritual love and joy, should be such as very much to
overcome the bodily strength. We are all ready to own,
that no man can see God and live, and that it is but a very
small part of that apprehension of the glory and love of

262

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD.

Christ, which the saints enjoy in heaven, that our present
frame can bear ; therefore it is not at all strange that God
should sometimes give his saints such foretastes of heaven,
as to diminish their bodily strength. If it was not unac
countable that the queen of Sheba fainted, and had her
bodily strength taken away, when she came to see the
glory of Solomon, much less is it unaccountable that she
who is the antitype of the queen of Sheba, (viz.) the
Church, that is brought, as it were, from the utmost ends
of the earth, from being an alien and stranger, far off, in a
state of sin and misery, should faint when she comes to
see the glory of Christ, who is the antitype of Solomon ;
and especially will be so in that prosperous, peaceful,
glorious kingdom, which he will set up in the world in its
latter age.
Some object against such extraordinary appearances,
that we have no instances of them recorded in the New
Testament, under the extraordinary effusions of the Spirit.
Were this allowed, I can see no force in the objection, if
neither reason, nor any rule of Scripture, exclude such
things ; especially considering what was observed under
the foregoing particular. I do not know that we have any
express mention in the New Testament of any person's
weeping, or groaning, or sighing through fear of hell, or a
sense of God's anger ; but is there any body so foolish as
from hence to argue, that in whomsoever these things
appear, their convictions are not from the Spirit of God?
And the reason why we do not argue thus, is, because
these are easily accounted for, from what we know of the
nature of man, and from what the Scripture informs us in
general, concerning the nature of eternal things, and the
nature of the convictions of God's Spirit ; so that there is
no need that any thing should be said in particular con
cerning these external, circumstantial effects. Nobody
supposes that there is any need of express scripture for
every external, accidental' manifestation of the inward
motion of the mind : and though such circumstances are
not particularly recorded in sacred history, yet there is a
great deal of reason to think, from the general accounts we
have, that it could not be otherwise than that such things
must be in those days. And there is also reason to think,
that such great outpouring of the Spirit was not wholly
without those more extraordinary effects on persons' bodies.
The jailer in particular, seems to have been an instance of
that nature, when he, in the utmost distress and amaze
ment, came trembling, and fell down before Paul and
Silas. His falling down at that time does not seem to be
a designed putting himself into a posture of supplication,
or humble address to Paul and Silas ; for he seems not to
have said any thing to them then ; but he first brought
them out, and then he says to them, Sirs, what must I do
to be saved ? Acts xvi. 29, and 30. But his falling down
seems to be from the same cause as his trembling. The
psalmist gives an account of his crying out aloud, and a
great weakening of his body under convictions of con
science, and a sense of the guilt of sin, Psal. xxxii. 3, 4.
" When I kept silence my bones waxed old, through my
roaring all the day long; for day and night thy hand was
heavy upon me : my moisture is turned into the drought of
summer." — We may at least argue so much from it, that
such an effect of conviction of sin may well in some cases
be supposed ; for if we should suppose any thing of an
auxesis in the expressions, yet the psalmist would not re
present his case by what would be absurd, and to which
no degree of that exercise of mind he spoke of, would have
any tendency. — We read of the disciples, Matt. xiv. 26.
that when they saw Christ coming to them in the storm,
and took him for some terrible enemy, threatening their de
struction in that storm, " they cried out for fear." Why
then should it be thought strange, that persons should cry
out for fear, when God appears to them, as a terrible enemy,
and they see themselves in great danger of being swal
lowed up in the bottomless gulf of eternal misery? The
spouse, once and again, speaks of herself as overpowered
with the love of Christ, so as to weaken her bodv, and
make her faint. Cant. ii. 5. " Stay me with flagons,
comfort me with apples; for I am sick of love." And chap.
v. 8. " 1 charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find
my Beloved, that ye tell him that I am sick of love."' From
whence we may at least argue, that such an effect may well

be supposed to arise, from such a cause in the saints in
some cases, and that such an effect will sometimes be seen
in the church of Christ.
It is a weak objection, that the impressions of enthusi
asts have a great effect on their bodies. That the Quakers
used to tremble, is no argument that Saul, afterwards Paul,'
and the jailer, did not tremble from real convictions of
conscience. Indeed all such objections from effects on the
body, let them be greater or less, seem to be exceeding fri
volous ; they who argue thence, proceed in the dark, they
know not what ground they go upon, nor by what rule
they judge. The root and course of things is to be looked
at, and the nature ofthe operations and affections are to he
inquired into, and examined by the rule of God's word,
and not the motions ofthe blood and animal spirits.
III. It is no argument that an operation on the minds
of people is not the work of the Spirit of God, that it occa
sions a great deal of noise about religion. For though true
religion be of a contrary nature to that of the Pharisees—
which was ostentatious, and delighted to set itself forth to
the view of men for their applause — yet such is human na
ture, that it is morally impossible there should be a great
concern, strong affection, and a general engagedness of
mind amongst a people, without causing a notable, visible,
and open commotion and alteration amongst that people. —
Surely, it is no argument that the minds of persons are not
under the influence of God's Spirit, that they are very much
moved : for indeed spiritual and eternal things are so great,
and of such infinite concern, that there is a great absurdity
in men's being but moderately moved and affected by them ;
and surely it is no argument that they are not moved by the
Spirit of God, that they are affected with these things in
some measure as they deserve, or in some proportion to
their importance. And when was there ever any such
thing since the world stood, as a people in general being
greatly affected in any affair whatsoever, without noise or
stir ? The nature of man will not allow it.
Indeed Christ says, Luke xvii. 20. " The kingdom of
God cometh not with observation." That is, it will not
consist in what is outward and visible ; it shall not be like
earthly kingdoms, set up with outward pomp, in some
particular place, which shall be especially the royal city,
and seat of the kingdom ; as Christ explains himself in
the words next following, " Neither shall they say, Lo
here, or lo there ; for behold the kingdom of God is within
you." Not that the kingdom of God shall be set up in the
world, on the ruin of Satan's kingdom, without a very
observable, great effect : a mighty change in the state of
things, to the observation and astonishment of the whole
world : for such an effect as this is even held forth in the
prophecies of Scripture, and is so by Christ himself, in this
very place, and even in his own explanation of these fore-
mentioned words, ver. 24. " For as the lightning that
lightneth out of one part under heaven, shineth unto
another part under heaven, so shall also the Son of man
be in his day." This is to distinguish Christ's coming to
set _ up his kingdom, from the coming of false Chnsts,
which he tells us will be in a private manner in the
deserts, and in the secret chambers ; whereas this event of
setting up the kingdom of God, should be open and pub
lic, in the sight of the whole world with clear manifestation,
like lightning that cannot be hid, but glares in every one's
eyes, and shines from one side of heaven to the other. And
we find, that when Christ's kingdom came, by that re
markable pouring out of the Spirit in the apostles' days,
it occasioned a great stir every where. What a mighty
opposition was there in Jerusalem, on occasion of that
freat effusion of the Spirit ! And so in Samaria, Antioch,
Ephesus, Corinth, and other places ! The affair filled the
world with noise, and gave occasion to some to say of the
apostles, that they had turned the world upside down.
Acts xvii. 6.
IV. It is no argument that an operation on the minds of
a people, is not the work of the Spirit of God, that many
who are the subjects of it, have great impressions made on
their imaginations. That persons have many impressions
on their imaginations, does not prove that they have
nothing else. It is easy to be accounted for, that there
should be much of this nature amongst a people, where a
great multitude of all kinds of constitutions have their

Sect. I.

WHAT ARE NEGATIVE SIGNS ?

263

minds engaged with intense thought and strong affections
about invisible things ; yea, it would be strange if there
should not. Such is our nature, that we cannot think
of things invisible, without a degree of imagination. I
dare appeal to any man, of the greatest powers of mind,
whether he is able to fix his thoughts on God, or Christ,
or the things of another world, without imaginary ideas
attending his meditations ? And the more engaged the
mind is, and the more intense the contemplation and af
fection, still the more lively and strong the imaginary idea
will ordinarily be; especially when attended with sur
prise. And this is the case when the mental prospect is
very new, and takes strong hold of the passions, as fear or
joy ; and when the change of the state and views of the
mind is sudden, from a contrary extreme, as from that
which was extremely dreadful, to that which is extremely
ravishing and delightful. And it is no wonder that many
persons do not well distinguish between that which is
imaginary and that which is intellectual and spiritual ; and
that they are apt to lay too much weight on the imaginary
part, and are most ready to speak of that in the account
thev give of their experiences, especially persons of less
understanding and of distinguishing capacity.
As God has given us such a faculty as the imagination,
and so made us that we cannot think of things spiritual
and invisible, without some exercise of this faculty ; so, it
appears to me, that such is our state and nature, that this
faculty is really subservient and helpful to the other facul
ties of tbe mind, when a proper use is made of it ; though
oftentimes, when the imagination is too strong, and the
other faculties weak, it overbears, and disturbs them in
their exercise. It appears to me manifest, in many in
stances with which I have been acquainted, that God has
really made use of this faculty to truly divine purposes ;
especially in some that are more ignorant. God seems to
condescend to their circumstances, and deal with them as
babes ; as of old he instructed his church, whilst in a state
of ignorance and minority, by types and outward repre
sentations. I can see nothing unreasonable in such a
position. Let others who have much occasion to deal
with souls in spiritual concerns, judge whether experience
does not confirm it.
It is no argument that a work is not of the Spirit of
God, that some who are the subjects of it have been in a
kind of ecstasy, wherein they have been carried beyond
themselves, and have had their minds transported into a
train of strong and pleasing imaginations, and a kind of
visions, as though they were rapt up even to heaven,
and there saw glorious sights. I have been acquainted
with some such instances, and I see no need of bringing
in the help of the devil into the account that we give of
these things, nor yet of supposing them to be of the same
. nature with the visions of the prophets, or St. Paul's rap
ture into paradise. Human nature, under these intense
exercises and affections, is all that need be brought into
the account. If it may be well accounted for, that per
sons under a true sense of the glorious and wonderful
greatness and excellency of divine things, and soul-ravish
ing views of the beauty and love of Christ, should have
the strength of nature overpowered, as I have already
shown that it may ; then I think it is not at all strange,
that amongst great numbers that are thus affected and
overborne, there should be some persons of particular con
stitutions that should have their imaginations thus affect
ed. The effect is no other than what bears a proportion
and analogy to other effects of the strong exercise of their
minds. It is no wonder, when the thoughts are so fixed,
and the affections so strong — and the whole soul so en
gaged, ravished, and swallowed up — that all other parts of
the body are so affected, as to be deprived of their strength,
and the whole frame ready to dissolve. Is it any wonder
that, in such a case, the brain in particular, (especially in
some constitutions,) which we know is most especially
affected by intense contemplations and exercises of mind,
should be so affected, that its strength and spirits should
for a season be diverted, and taken off from impressions
made on the organs of external sense, and be wholly em
ployed in a train of pleasing delightful imaginations, cor
responding with the present frame of the mind. Some
are ready to interpret such things wrong, and to lay too

much weight on them, as prophetical visions, divine re
velations, and sometimes significations from heaven of
what shall come to pass ; which the issue, in some in
stances I have known, has shown to be otherwise. But
yet, it appears to me that such things are evidently some
times from the Spirit of God, though indirectly ; that is,
their extraordinary frame of mind, and that strong and
lively sense of divine things which is the occasion of
them, is from his Spirit; and also as the mind continues
in its holy frame, and retains a divine sense of the excel
lency of spiritual things even in its rapture ; which holy
frame and sense is from the Spirit of God, though the
imaginations that attend it are but accidental, and therefore
there is commonly something or other in them that is con
fused, improper, and false.
V. It is no sign that a work is not from the Spirit of
God, that example is a great means of it. It is surely no
argument that an effect is not from God, that means are
used in producing it; for we know that it is God's man
ner to make use of means in carrying on his work in the
world, and it is no more an argument against the divinity
of an effect, that this means is made use of, than if it was
by any other means. It is agreeable to Scripture that
persons should be influenced by one another's good ex
ample. The Scripture directs us to set good examples to
that end, Matt. v. 16. 1 Pet. iii. 1. 1 Tim. iv. 12. Titus
ii. 7. and also directs us to be influenced by the good
examples of others, and to follow them, 2 Cor. viii. 1 — 7.
Heb. vi. 12. Phil. iii. 17. 1 Cor. iv. 16. and chap. xi. 1.
2 Thess. iii. 9. 1 Thess. i. 7. By which it appears, that
example is one of God's means ; and certainly it is no ar
gument that a work is not of God, lhat his own means
are made use of to effect it.
And as it is a scriptural way of carrying on God's work,
by example, so it is a reasonable way. It is no argument
that men are not influenced by reason, that they are influ
enced by example. This way of persons holding forth
truth to one another, has a tendency to enlighten the
mind, and to convince reason. None will deny but that
for persons to signify things one to another by words, may
rationally be supposed to tend to enlighten each other's
minds ; but the same thing may be signified by actions,
and signified much more fully and effectually. Words
are of no use any otherwise than as they convey our own
ideas to others; but actions, in some cases, may do it
much more fully. There is a language in actions ; and in
some cases, much more clear and convincing than in
words. It is therefore no argument against the goodness
of the effect, that persons are greatly affected by seeing
others so ; yea, though the impression be made only by
seeing the tokens- of great and extraordinary affection in
others in their behaviour, taking for granted what they are
affected with, without hearing them say one word. There
may be language sufficient in such a case in their beha
viour only, to convey their minds to others, and to signify
to them their sense of things more than can possibly be
done by words only. If a person should see another un
der extreme bodily torment, he might receive much clearer
ideas, and more convincing evidence of what he suffered
by his actions in his misery, than he could do only by the
words of an unaffected indifferent relator. ¦ In like man
ner he might receive a greater idea of any thing that is ex
cellent and very delightful, from the behaviour of one that
is in actual enjoyment, than by the dull narration of one
which is inexperienced and insensible himself. I desire
that this matter may be examined by the strictest reason.
— Is it not manifest, that effects produced in persons'
minds are rational, since not only weak and ignorant peo
ple are much influenced by example, but also those that
make the greatest boast of strength of reason, are more
influenced by reason held forth in this way, than almost
any other way. Indeed the religious affections of many
when raised by this means, as by hearing the word preach
ed, or any other means, may prove flashy, and soon vanish,
as Christ represents the stony-ground hearers ; but the af
fections of some thus moved by example, are abiding, and
prove to be of saving issue.
There never yet was a time of remarkable pouring out
of the Spirit, and great revival of religion, but that exam-
pie had a main hand. So it was at the reformation, and

MARKS OF A WQRK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD.

264
in the apostles' days, in ^Jerusalem and Samaria, and
Ephesus, and other parts of the world, as will be most
manifest to any one that attends to the accounts we have
in the Acts of the Apostles. As in those days one person
was moved by another, so one city or town was influenced
by the example of another, 1 Thess. i. 7, 8. " So that ye
were ensamples to all that believe in Macedonia and
Achaia, for from you sounded out the word of the Lord,
not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but also in every place
your faith to God-ward is spread abroad."
It is no valid objection against examples being so much
used, that the Scripture speaks of the word as the prin
cipal means of carrying on God's work ; for the word of
God is the principal means, nevertheless, by which other
means operate and are made effectual. Even the sacra
ments have no effect but by the word ; and so it is that
example becomes effectual ; for all that is visible to the
eye is unintelligible and vain, without the word of God
to instruct and guide the mind. It is the word of God
that is indeed held forth and applied by example, as the
word of the Lord sounded forth to other towns in Mace
donia, and Achaia, by the example of those that believe in
Thessalonica. That example should be a great means of propagating the
church of God seems to be several ways signified in Scrip
ture : it is signified by Ruth's following Naomi out of the
land of Moab, into the land of Israel, when she resolved
that she would not leave her, but would go whither she
went, and would lodge where she lodged; and that
Naomi's people should be her people, and Naomi's God,
her God. Ruth, who was the ancestral mother of David,
and of Christ, was undoubtedly a great type of the
church ; upon which account her history is inserted in the
canon of Scripture. In her leaving the land of Moab and
its gods, to come and put her trust under the shadow of
the wings of the God of Israel, we have a type of the
conversion not only of the Gentile church but of every
sinner, that is naturally an alien and stranger, but in his
conversion forgets his own people, and father's house, and
becomes a fellow-citizen with the saints and a true Israel
ite. The same seems to be signified in the effect the
example of the spouse, when she was sick of love, has on
the daughters of Jerusalem, i. _. visible Christians, who
are first awakened, by seeing the spouse in such extraordi
nary circumstances, and then converted. See Cant. v. 8,
9. and vi. 1 . And this is undoubtedly one way that " the
Spirit and the bride say, come." Rev. xxii. 17. i. e. the
Spirit in the bride. It is foretold, that the work of God
should be very much carried on by this means, in the last
great outpouring of the Spirit, that should introduce the
glorious day of the church, so often spoken of in Scrip
ture, Zech. viii. 21 — 23. " And the inhabitants of one city
shall go to another, saying, Let us go speedily to pray be
fore the Lord, and to seek the Lord of hosts : I will go
also. Yea, many people, and strong nations, shall come to
seek the Lord of hosts in Jerusalem, and to pray before
the Lord. Thus saith the Lord of hosts, In those days
it shall come to pass, that ten men shall take hold out of
all languages of the nations, even shall take hold of the
skirt of him that is a Jew, saying, We will go with you,
for we have heard that God is with you."
VI. It is no sign that a work is not from the Spirit of
God, that many, who seem to be the subjects of it, are
guilty of great imprudences and irregularities in their con
duct. We are to consider that the end for which God
pours out his Spirit, is to make men holy, and not to
make them politicians. It is no wonder that, in a mixed
multitude of all sorts — wise and unwise, young and old,
of weak and strong natural abilities, under strong im
pressions of mind — there are many who behave themselves
imprudently. There are but few that know how to con
duct them under vehement affections of any kind, whe
ther of a temporal or spiritual nature ; to do so requires a
great deal of discretion, strength, and steadiness of mind.
A thousand imprudences will not prove a work to be not
of the Spirit of God ; yea, if there be not only impru
dences, but many things prevailing that are irregular, and
reaily contrary to the rules of God's holy word. That it
should be thus may be well accounted for from the exceed
ing weakness of human nature, together with the remain

ing darkness and corruption of those that are yet the sub
jects of the saving influences of God's Spirit, and have a
real zeal for God.
We have a remarkable instance, in the JNew lestament,
of a people that partook largely of that great effusion of
the Spirit in the apostles' days, among whom there never
theless abounded imprudences and great irregularities;
viz. the church at Corinth. There is scarcely any church
more celebrated in the New Testament for being blessed
with large measures of the Spirit of God, both in his ordi
nary influences, in convincing and converting sinners, and
also in his extraordinary and miraculous gifts ; yet what

discipline l To wmcn may
be added, their indecent manner of attending other parts
of public worship, their jarring and contention about their
teachers, and even the exercise of their extraordinary gifts
of prophecy, speaking with tongues, and the like, wherein
they spake and acted by the immediate inspiration of the
Spirit of God.
And if we see great imprudences, and even sinful irre
gularities, in some who are great instruments to carry on
the work, it will not prove it not to be the work of God.
The apostle Peter himself, who was a great, eminently
holy, and inspired apostle — and one of the chief instru
ments of setting up the christian church in the world —
when he was actually engaged in this work, was guilty of
a great and sinful error in his conduct ; of which the
apostle Paul speaks, Gal. ii. 11—13. " But when Peter
was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because
he was to be blamed ; for before that certain came from
James, he did eat with the Gentiles, but when they were
come, he withdrew, and separated himself, fearing them
that were of the circumcision ; and the other Jews dis
sembled likewise with him ; insomuch, that Barnabas also
was carried away with their dissimulation." If a great
pillar of the christian church — one of the chief of those
who are the very foundations on which, next to Christ, the
whole church is said to be built — was guilty of such an
irregularity ; is it any wonder if other lesser instruments,
who have not that extraordinary conduct of the divine
Spirit he had, should be guilty of many irregularities ?
And in particular, it is no evidence that a work is not
of God, if many who are either the subjects or the instru
ments of it, are guilty of too great forwardness to censure
others as unconverted. For this may be through mistakes
they have embraced concerning the marks by which they
are to judge of the hypocrisy and carnality of others ; or
from not duly apprehending the latitude the Spirit of God
uses in the methods of his operations ; or, from want of
making due allowance for that infirmity and corruption
that may be left in the hearts of the saints ; as well as
through want of a due sense of their own blindness and
weakness, and remaining corruption, whereby spiritual
pride may have a secret vent this way, under some dis
guise, and not be discovered. — If we allow that truly pious
men may have a great deal of remaining blindness and
corruption, and may be liable to mistakes about the marks
of hypocrisy, as undoubtedly all will allow, then it is not
unaccountable that they should sometimes run into such
errors as these. It is as easy, and upon some accounts
more easy to be accounted for, why the remaining corrup
tion of good men should sometimes have an unobserved
vent this way, than most other ways ; and without doubt
(however lamentable) many holy men have erred in this
way. Lukewarmness in religion is abominable, and zeal an
excellent grace ; yet above all other christian virtues, this
needs to be strictly watched and searched ; for it is that with
which corruption, and particularly pride and human pas
sion, is exceedingly apt to mix unobserved. And it is ob
servable, that there never was a time of great reformation,
to cause a revival of zeal in the church of God, but that
it has been attended, in some notable instances, with irre
gularity, and a running out some way or other into an un
due severity. Thus in the apostles' days, a great deal of
zeal was spent about unclean meats, with heat of spirit in
Christians one against another, both parties condemning
and censuring one another, as not true Christians ; when

Sect. I.

WHAT ARE NEGATIVE SIGNS?

265

the apostle had charity for both, as influenced by a spirit
of real piety : " he that eats," says he, " to the Lord he
eats, and giveth God thanks ; and he that eateth not, to
the Lord he eateth not, and giveth God thanks." So in the
church of Corinth, they had got into a way of extolling
some ministers, and censuring others, and were puffed up
one against another : but yet these things were no sign that
the work then so wonderfully carried on, was not the
work of God. And after this, when religion was still
greatly flourishing in the world, and a spirit of eminent
holiness and zeal prevailed in the christian church, the
zeal of Christians ran out into a very improper and undue
severity, in the exercise of church discipline towards de
linquents. In some cases they would by no means admit
them into their charity and communion though they ap
peared never so humble and penitent. And in the days
of Constantine the Great, the zeal of Christians against
heathenism ran out into a degree of persecution. So in
that glorious revival of religion, at the reformation, zeal in
many instances appeared in a very improper severity, and
even a degree of persecution ; yea, in some of the most
eminent reformers ;¦ as in the great Calvin in particular.
And many in those days of the flourishing of vital reli
gion, were guilty of severely censuring others that differed
from them in opinion in some points of divinity.
VII. Nor are many errors in judgment, and some de
lusions of Satan intermixed with the work, any argument
that the work in general is not of the Spirit of God. How
ever great a spiritual influence may be, it is not to be ex
pected that the Spirit of God should be given now in the
same manner as to the apostles, infallibly to guide them
in points of christian doctrine, so that what they taught
might be relied on as a rule to the christian church. And
if many delusions of Satan appear, at the same time that
a great religious concern prevails, it is not an argument
that the work in general is not the work of God, any
more than it was an argument in Egypt, that there were
no true miracles wrought there, by the hand of God, be
cause Jannes and Jambres wrought false miracles at the
same time by the hand of the devil. Yea, the same per
sons may be the subjects of much of the influences of the
Spirit of God, and yet in some things be led away by the
delusions of Satan, and this be no more of paradox than
many other things that are true of real saints, in the pre
sent state, where grace dwells with so much corruption,
and the new man and the old man subsist together in the
same person ; and the kingdom of God and the kingdom
of the devil remain for a while together in the same heart.
Many godly persons have undoubtedly in this and other
ages, exposed themselves to woeful delusions, by an apt
ness to lay too much weight on impulses and impressions,
as if they were immediate revelations from God, to signify
something future, or to direct them where to go, and what
to do.
VIII. If some, who were thought to be wrought upon,
fall away into gross errors, or scandalous practices, it is no
argument that the work in general is not the work of the
Spirit of God. That there are some counterfeits, is no ar
gument that nothing is true : such things are always ex
pected in a time of reformation. If we look into church
history, we shall find no instance of any great revival of
religion, but what has been attended with many such
things. Instances of this nature in the apostles' days were
innumerable; some fell away into gross heresies, others
into vile practices, though they seemed to be the subjects
of a work of the Spirit — and were accepted for a while
amongst those that were truly so, as their brethren and
companions — and were not suspected till they went out
from them. And some of these were teachers and officers —
and eminent persons in the christian church — whom God
had endowed with miraculous gifts of the Holy Ghost ; as
appears by the beginning of the 6th chapter of the He
brews. An instance of these was Judas, who was one of
the twelve apostles, and had long been constantly united
to, and intimately conversant with, a company of truly ex
perienced disciples, without being discovered or suspected,
till he discovered himself by his scandalous practice. He
had been treated by Jesus himself, in all external things,
* But though these heretics assumed his name, it does not follow that

as if he had truly been a disciple, even investing him with
the character of apostle, sending him forth to preach the
fospel, and enduing him with miraculous gifts of the Spirit.
'or though Christ knew him, yet he did not then clothe
himself with the character of omniscient Judge, and
searcher of hearts, but acted the part of a minister of the
visible church ; (for he was his Father's minister ;) and
therefore rejected him not, till he had discovered himself
by his scandalous practice ; thereby giving an example to
guides and rulers ofthe visible church, not to take it upon
them to act the part of searcher of hearts, but to be influ
enced in their administrations by what is visible and open.
— There were some instances then of such apostates, as
were esteemed eminently full of the grace of God's Spirit.
An instance of this nature probably was Nicolas, one of
the seven deacons, who was looked upon by the Christians
in Jerusalem, in the time of that extraordinary pouring
out of the Spirit, as a man full of the Holy Ghost, and
was chosen out of the multitude of Christians to that office,
for that reason ; as you may see in Acts vi. 3, 5. yet he
afterwards fell away and became the head of a sect of vile
heretics, of gross practices, called from his name the sect
ofthe Nicolaitans,* Rev. ii. 6, and 15.
So in the time of the reformation from popery, how
great was the number of those who for a while seemed to
join with the reformers, yet fell away into the grossest and
most absurd errors, and abominable practices. And it is
particularly observable, that in times of great pouring out
of the Spirit to revive religion in the world, a number of
those who for a while seemed to partake in it, have fallen
off into whimsical and extravagant errors, and gross en
thusiasm, boasting of high degrees of spirituality and per
fection, censuring and condemning others as carnal. Thus
it was with the Gnostics in the apostles' times ; and thus
it was with several sects at the reformation, as Anthony
Burgess observes in his book called Spiritual Refinings,
Part I. Serm. 23. p. 132. "The first worthy reformers,
and glorious instruments of God, found a bitter conflict
herein, so that they were exercised not only with formalists,
and traditionary papists on the one side, but men that
pretended themselves to be more enlightened than the re
formers were, on the other side : hence they called those
that did adhere to the Scripture, and would try revelations
by it, Literists and Vowelists, as men acquainted with the
words and vowels of the Scripture, having nothing of the
Spirit of God : and wheresoever in any town, the true
doctrine of the gospel brake forth to the displacing of
popery, presently such opinions arose, like tares that came
up among the good wheat ; whereby great divisions were
raised, and the reformation made abominable and odious
to the world ; as if that had been the sun to give heat and
warmth to those worms and serpents to crawl out of the
ground. Hence they inveighed against Luther, and said
he had only promulgated a carnal gospel." — Some of the
leaders of those wild enthusiasts had been for a while
highly esteemed by the first reformers, and peculiarly dear
to them. — Thus also in England, at the time when vital
religion much prevailed in the days of King Charles I. the
interregnum, and Oliver Cromwell, such things as these
abounded. And so in New England, in her purest days,
when vital piety flourished, such kind of things as these
broke out. Therefore the devil's sowing such tares is no
proof that a true work of the Spirit of God is not glori
ously carried on.
Ia. It is no argument that a work is not from the Spirit
of God, that it seems to be promoted by ministers insisting
very much on the terrors of God's holy law, and that with
a great deal of pathos and earnestness. If there be really
a hell of such dreadful and never-ending torments, as is
generally supposed, of which multitudes are in great
danger — and into which the greater part of men in chris
tian countries do actually from generation to generation
fall, for want of a sense of its terribleness, and so for want
of taking due care to avoid it — then why is it not proper
for those who have the care of souls to take great pains to
make men sensible of it ? Why should toey not be told as
much of the truth as can be ? If 1 am in danger of going to
hell, I should be glad to know as much as possibly I can
lie countenanced their enormities. See Calmet's Diet. Nicolas.

266

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD.

of the dreadfulness of it. If I am very prone to neglect
due care to avoid it, he does me the best kindness, who
does most to represent to me the truth of the case, that sets
forth my misery and danger in the liveliest manner.
I appeal to every one, whether this is not the very
course they would take in case of exposedness to any great
temporal calamity ? If any of you who are heads of
families saw one of your children in a house all on fire,
and in imminent danger of being soon consumed in the
flames, yet seemed to be very insensible of its danger, and
neglected to escape after you had often called to it — would
you go on to speak to it only in a cold and indifferent
manner ? Would not you cry aloud, and call earnestly to
it, and represent the danger it was in, and its own folly in
delaying, in the most lively manner of which you was
capahle ? Would not nature itself teach this, and oblige
you to it ? If you should continue to speak to it only in
a cold manner, as you are wont to do in ordinary con
versation about indifferent matters, would not those about
you begin to think you were bereft of reason yourself?
This is not the way of mankind in temporal affairs of great
moment, that require earnest heed and great haste, and
about which they are greatly concerned. They are not
wont to speak to others of their danger, and warn them
but a little or in a cold and indifferent manner. Nature
teaches men otherwise. If we who have the care of souls,
knew what hell was, had seen the state ofthe damned, or by
any other means had become sensible how dreadful their
case was — and at the same time knew that the greater part
of men went thither, and saw our hearers not sensible of
their danger — it would be morally impossible for us to
avoid most earnestly setting before them the dreadfulness
of that misery, and their great exposedness to it, and even
to cry aloud to them.
When ministers preach of hell, and warn sinners to
avoid it, in a cold manner — though they may say in words
that it is infinitely terrible — they contradict themselves.
For actions, as I observed before, have a language as well
as words. If a preacher's words represent the sinner's
state as infinitely dreadful, while his behaviour and man
ner of speaking contradict it — showing that the preacher
does not think so — he defeats his own purpose ; for the
language of his actions, in such a case, is much more
effectual than the bare signification of his words. Not that
I think that the law only should be preached : ministers
may preach other things too little. The gospel is to be
preached as well as the law, and the law is to be preached
only to make way for the gospel, and in order that it may
be preached more effectually. The main work of ministers
is to preach the gospel : " Christ is the end of the law for
righteousness." So that a minister would miss it very
much if he should insist so much on the terrors of the law,
as to forget his Lord, and neglect to preach the gospel; but
yet the law is very much to be insisted on, and the preach
ing of the gospel is like to be in vain without it.
And certainly such earnestness and affection in speaking
is beautiful, as becomes the nature and importance of the
subject. Not but that there may be such a thing as an
indecent boisterousness in a preacher, something besides
what naturally arises from the nature of his subject, and in
which the matter and manner do not well agree together.
Some talk of it as an unreasonable thing to fright persons
to heaven ; but I think it is a reasonable thing to endea
vour to fright persons away from hell. They stand upon
its brink, and are just ready to fall into it, and are senseless
of their danger. Is it not a reasonable thing to fright a
person out of a house on fire ? The word fright is com
monly used for sudden, causeless fear, or groundless sur
prise ; but surely a just fear, for which there is good reason,
is not to be spoken against under any such name.

SECT. II.
What are distinguishing scripture evidences qf a work qf
the Spirit qf God.
Having shown, in some instances, what are not evi
dences that a work wrought among a people, is not a work
of the Spirit of God, I now proceed, in the second place,
as was proposed, to show positively, what are the sure,

distinguishing scripture evidences and marks of a work of
the Spirit of God, by which we may proceed in judging of
any operation we find in ourselves, or see among a people,
without danger of being misled. — And in this, as I said
before, I shall confine myself wholly to those marks which
are given us by the apostle in the chapter wherein is my
text, where this matter is particularly handled, and more
plainly and fully than any where else in the Bible. And
in speaking to these marks, I shall take them in the order
in which I find them in the chapter.
I. When the operation is such as to raise their esteem of
that Jesus who was born of the Virgin, and was crucified
without the gates of Jerusalem ; and seems more to confirm
and establish their minds in the truth of what the gospel
declares to us Qf bis being the Son of God, and the Saviour
of men ; is a sure sign that it is from the Spirit of God.
This sign the apostle gives us in the 2d and 3d verses,
" Hereby know ye the Spirit of God ; and every spirit that
confessed, that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God ;
and every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is
come in the flesh is not of God." This implies a confess
ing not only that there was such a person who appeared in
Palestine, and did and suffered those things that are record
ed of him, but that he was Christ, i. e. the Son of God,
anointed to be Lord and Saviour, as the name Jesus Christ
implies. That thus much is implied in the apostle's mean
ing, is confirmed by the 15th verse, where the apostle is
stili on the same subject of signs of the true Spirit ; " Who
soever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God
dwelleth in him, and he in God." And it is to be observ
ed that the word confess, as it is often used in the New
Testament, signifies more then merely allowing : it implies
an establishing and confirming of a thing by testimony,
and declaring it with manifestation of esteem and affection;
so Matt. x. 32. " Whosoever therefore shall confess me be
fore men, him will I confess also before my Father which is
in heaven." Rom. xv. 9. " I will confess to thee among the
Gentiles, and sing unto thy name." And Phil. ii. 11.
" That every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father." And that this is the force
of the expression, as the apostle John uses it in the
place, is confirmed in the next chapter, ver. 1. " Whoso
ever believeth that Jesus is the Christ, is born of God,
and every one that loveth him that begat, loveth him also
that is begotten of him." And by that parallel place of
the apostle Paul, where we have the same rule given to
distinguish the true Spirit from all counterfeits, 1 Cor. xii.
3. " Wherefore I give you to understand that no man
speaking by the Spirit of God, calleth Jesus accursed ; (or
will show an ill or mean esteem of him ;) and that no
man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holv
Ghost." So that if the spirit that is at work among a people is
plainly observed to work so as to convince them of Christ,
and lead them to him — to confirm their minds in the belief
ofthe history of Christ as he appeared in the flesh — and
that he is the Son of God, and was sent of God to save
sinners ; that he is the only Saviour, and that they stand in
great need of him ; and if he seems to beget in them higher
and more honourable thoughts of him than they used to
have, and to incline their affections more to him ; it is a
sure sign that it is the true and right Spirit ; however in
capable we may be to determine, whether that conviction
and affection be in that manner, or to that degree, as to be
saving or not.
But the words of the apostle are remarkable ; .the person
to whom the Spirit gives testimony, and for whom he raises
their esteem, must be that Jesus who appeared in the
flesh, and not another Christ in his stead ; nor any mystical,
fantastical Christ ; such as the light within. This the spirit
of Quakers extols, while it diminishes their esteem of and
dependence upon an outward Christ — or Jesus as he came
in the flesh— and leads them off from him ; but the spirit
that gives testimony for that Jesus, and leads to him, can
be no other than the Spirit of God.
The devil has the most bitter and implacable enmity
against that person, especially in his character of the Sa
viour of men ; he mortally hates the story and doctrine of
his redemption ; he never would go about to beget in men
more honourable thoughts of him, and lay greater weight

Sect. II.

WHAT ARE POSITIVE SIGNS?

267

on his instructions and commands. The Spirit that in
clines men's hearts to the seed of the woman, is not the
spirit of the serpent that has such an irreconcileable enmity
against him. He that heightens men's esteem of the glo
rious Michael, that prince ofthe angels, is not the spirit of
the dragon that is at war with him.
II. When the spirit that is at work operates against the
interests of Satan's kingdom, which lies in encouraging and
establishing sin, and cherishing men's worldly lusts ; this
is a sure sign that it is a true, and not a false spirit. This
sign we have given us in the 4th and 5th verses. " Ye are
of God, little children, and have overcome them ; because
greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world.
They are of the world, therefore speak they of the world,
and the world heareth them." Here is a plain antithesis :
it is evident that the apostle is still comparing those that
are influenced by the two opposite kinds of spirits, the true
and the false, and showing the difference ; the one is of
God, and overcomes the spirit of the world ; the other is of
the world, and speaks and savours ofthe things ofthe world.
The spirit of the devil is here called, " he that is in the
world." Christ says, " My kingdom is not of this world."
But it is otherwise with Satan's kingdom; he is " the god
of this world."
What the apostle means by the world, or " the things
that are of the world," we learn by his own words, in the
2d chapter of this epistle, 15th and 16th verses. " Love
not the world, neither the things that are in the world : if
any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in
him : for all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and
the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the
Father, but is ofthe world." So that by the world the apos
tle evidently means every thing that appertains to the inter
est of sin, and comprehends all the corruptions and lusts of
men, and all those acts and objects by which they are gratified.
So that we may safely determine, from what the apostle
says, that the spirit that is at work amongst a people, after
such a manner, as to lessen men's esteem of the pleasures,
profits, and honours of the world, and to take off their hearts
from an eager pursuit after these things ; and to engage
them in a deep concern about a future state and eternal
happiness which the gospel reveals — and puts them upon
earnestly seeking the kingdom of God and his righteous
ness ; and the spirit that convinces them of the dreadful
ness of sin, the guilt it brings, and the misery to which it
exposes ; must needs be the Spirit of God.
It is not to be supposed that Satan would convince men
of sin, and awaken the conscience ; it can no way serve
his end, to make that candle of the Lord shine the brighter,
and to open the mouth of that vicegerent of God in the
soul. It is for his interest, whatever he does, to lull con
science asleep, and keep it quiet. To have that, with its
eyes and mouth open in the soul, will tend to clog and
hinder all his designs of darkness, and evermore to disturb
his affairs, to cross his interest, and disquiet him, so that
he can manage nothing to his mind without molestation.
Would the devil, when he is about to establish men in
sin, take such a course, in the first place, to enlighten and
awaken the conscience to see the dreadfulness of sin, and
make them exceedingly afraid of it, and sensible of their
misery by reason of their past sins, and their great need of
deliverance from their guilt? Would he make them more
careful, inquisitive, and watchful to discern what is sinful ;
and to avoid future sins ; and so more afraid of the devil's
temptations, and more careful to guard against them?
What do those men do with their reason, that suppose that
the Spirit that operates thus, is the spirit of the devil ?
Possibly some may say, that the devil may even awaken
men's consciences to deceive them, and make tbem think
they have been the subjects of a saving work of the Spirit
of God, while they are indeed still in the gall of bitterness.
But to this it may be replied, that the man who has an
awakened conscience, is the least likely to be deceived of
any man in the world ; it is the drowsy, insensible, stupid
conscience that is most easily blinded. The more sensible
conscience is in a diseased soul, the less easily is it quieted
without a real healing. The more sensible conscience is
made of the dreadfulness of sin, and of the greatness of a
man's own guilt, the less likely is he to rest in his own
righteousness, or to be pacified with nothing but shadows.

A man that has been thoroughly terrified with a sense of
his own danger and misery, is not easily flattered and
made to believe himself safe, without any good grounds.
To awaken conscience, and convince it of the evil of sin,
cannot tend to establish it, but certainly tends to make
way for sin and Satan's being cut out. Therefore this is a
good argument that the Spirit that operates thus, cannot
be the spirit of the devil ; except we suppose that Christ
knew not how to argue, who told the Pharisees — who sup
posed that the Spirit by which he wrought, was the spirit
of tbe devil — that Satan would not cast out Satan, Matt.
xii. 25, 26. — And therefore, if we see persons made sensi
ble of the dreadful nature of sin, and of the displeasure of
God against it; of their own miserable condition as they
are in themselves, by reason of sin, and earnestly concern
ed for their eternal salvation— and sensible of their need of
God's pity and help, and engaged to seek it in the use of
the means that God has appointed — we may certainly
conclude that it is from the Spirit of God, whatever effects
this concern has on their bodies ; though it cause them to
cry out aloud, or to shriek, or to faint ; or, though it throw
them into convulsions, or whatever other way the blood
and spirits are moved.
The influence of the Spirit of God is yet more abun
dantly manifest, if persons have their hearts drawn off
from the world, and weaned from the objects of their
worldly lusts, and taken off from worldly pursuits, by the
sense they have of the excellency of divine things, and the
affection they have to those spiritual enjoyments of another
world, that are promised in the gospel.
III. The spirit that operates in such a manner, as to
cause in men a greater regard to the Holy Scriptures, and
establishes them more in their truth and divinity, is cer
tainly the Spirit of God. This rule the apostle gives us
in the 6th verse : " We are of God ; he that knoweth God
heareth us; he that is not of God heareth not us : hereby
know we the spirit of truth, and the spirit of error." We
are qf God; that is, " We the apostles are sent forth of
God, and appointed by him to teach the world, and to
deliver those doctrines and instructions, which are to be
their rule ; he that knoweth God, heareth us," &c. — The
apostle's argument here equally reaches all lhat in the
same sense are of God ; that is, all those that God has
appointed and inspired to deliver to his church its rule of
faith and practice ; all the prophets and apostles, whose
doctrine God has made the foundation on which he has
built his church, as in Eph. ii. 20. in a word, all the pen
men of the Holy Scriptures. The devil never would at
tempt to beget in persons a regard to that divine word
which God has given to be the great and standing rule for
the direction of his church in all religious matters, and all
concerns of their souls, in all ages. A spirit of delusion
will not incline persons to seek direction at the mouth of
God. To the law and to the testimony, is never the cry
of those evil spirits that have no light in them ; for it is
God's own direction to discover their delusions. Isa. viii.
19, 20. " And when they shall say unto you, Seek unto
them that have familiar spirits, and unto wizards that peep
and that mutter : should not a people seek unto their
God ? for the living to the dead 7 To the law and to the
testimony ; if they speak not according to this word, it is
because there is no light in them." The devil does not
say the same as Abraham did, " They have Moses and
the prophets, let them hear them :" nor the same lhat the
voice from heaven did concerning Christ, " Hear ye him."
Would the spirit of error, in order to deceive men, beget
in them a high opinion of the infallible rule, and incline
them to think much of it, and be very conversant with
it? Would the prince of darkness, in order to promote
his kingdom of darkness, lead men to the sun ? The
devil has ever shown a mortal spite and hatred towards
that holy book the Bible : he has done all in his power to
extinguish that light ; and to draw men off from it : he
knows it to be that light by which his kingdom of dark
ness is to be overthrown. He has had for many ages
experience of its power to defeat his purposes, and baffie
his designs : it is his constant plague. It is the main
weapon which Michael uses in his war with him : it is
the sword of the Spirit, that pierces him and conquers him.
It is that great and strong sword, with which God punishes

268

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD.

Leviathan, that crooked serpent. It is that sharp sword
that we read of, Rev. xix. 15. that proceeds out of the
mouth of him that sat on the horse, with which he smites
his enemies. Every text is a dart to torment the old ser
pent. He has felt the stinging smart thousands of times ;
therefore he is engaged against the Bible, and hates every
word in it : and we may be sure lhat he never will attempt
to raise persons' esteem of it, or affection to it. And ac
cordingly we see it common in enthusiasts, that they de
preciate this written rule, and set up the light within or
some other rule above it.
IV. Another rule to judge of spirits may be drawn from
those compellations given to the opposite spirits, in the
last words of the 6th verse, " The spirit of truth and the
spirit of error." These words exhibit the two opposite
characters of the Spirit of God, and other spirits that coun
terfeit his operations. And therefore, if by observing the
manner of the operation of a spirit that is at work among
a people, we see that it operates as a spirit of truth, lead
ing persons to truth, convincing them of those things that
are true, we may safely determine that it is a right and
true spirit. For instance, if we observe that the spirit at
work makes men more sensible than they used to be, that
there is a God, and that he is a great and a sin-hating
God ; that life is short, and very uncertain ; and that there
is another world ; that they have immortal souls, and
mus't give account of themselves to God, that they are
exceeding sinful by nature and practice ; that they are
helpless in themselves ; and confirms them in other things
that are agreeable to some sound doctrine ; the spirit
that works thus, operates as a spirit of truth ; he represents
things as they truly are. He brings men to the light ; for
whatever makes truth manifest is light; as the apostle
Paul observes, Eph. v. 13. " But all things that are re
proved (or discovered, as it is in the margin) are made
manifest by the light; for whatsoever doth make manifest
is light." And therefore we may conclude, that it is not
the spirit of darkness that doth thus discover and make
manifest the truth. Christ tells us that Satan is a liar,
and the father of lies ; and his kingdom is a kingdom of
darkness. It is upheld and promoted only by darkness
and error. Satan has all his power and dominion by dark
ness. Hence we read of the power of darkness. Luke
xxii. 53. and Col. i. 13. And devils are called " the
rulers of the darkness of this world." Whatever spirit
removes our darkness, and brings us to the light, unde
ceives us, and, by convincing us of the truth, doth us a
kindness. If I am brought to a sight of truth, and am
made sensible of things as they really are, my duty is im
mediately to thank God for it, without standing first to
inquire by what means I have such a benefit.
V. If the spirit that is at work among a people operates
as a spirit of love to God and man, it is a sure sign that it
is the Spirit of God. This sign the apostle insists upon
from the 6th verse to the end of the chapter. " Beloved,
let us love one another ; for love is of God, and every one
that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God : he that
loveth not, knoweth not God ; for God is love," &c. Here
it is evident, that the apostle is still comparing those two
sorts of persons that are influenced by the opposite kinds
of spirits ; and mentions love as a mark by which we may
know who has the true spirit : but this is especially evi
dent by the 1 2tb and 1 3th verses. " If we love one another,
God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us : hereby
know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he
hath given us of his Spirit." In these verses love is spoken
of as if it were that wherein the very nature of the Holy
Spirit consisted ; or, as if divine love dwelling in us, and
the Spirit qf God dwelling in us, were the same thing ; as
it is also in the last two verses of the foregoing chapter,
and in the 16th verse of this chapter. Therefore this last
mark which the apostle gives of the true Spirit he seems
to speak of as the most eminent ; and so insists much
more largely upon it, than upon all the rest ; and speaks
expressly of both love to God and men ; of love to men in
the 7th, lllh, and 12th verses; and of love to God, in the
17th, 18th, and 19th verses ; and of both together, in the
last two verses ; and of love to men, as arising from love
to God, in these last two verses.
Therefore, when the spirit that is at work amongst the

people, tends this way, and brings many of them to high
and exalting thoughts of the Divine Being, and his glori
ous perfections ; and works in them an admiring, delight
ful sense of the excellency of Jesus Christ ; representing
him as the chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely,
and makes him precious to the soul ; winning and draw
ing the heart with those motives and incitements to love,
of which the apostle speaks in that passage of Scripture we
are upon, viz. the wonderful, free love of God in giving his
only-begotten Son to die for us, and the wonderful dying
love of Christ to us, who had no love to him, but were his
enemies ; must needs be the Spirit of God, as ver. 9, 10.
" In this was manifested the love of God towards us, be
cause God sent his only-begotten Son into the world, that
we might live through him. Herein is love ; not that we
loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to he
the propitiation for pur sins." And ver. 16. "And we
have known, and believed, the love that God hath to us."
And ver. 19. "We love him because he first ioved us."
The spirit that excites to love on these motives, and makes
the attributes of God as revealed in the gospel, and mani
fested in Christ, delightful objects of contemplation ; and
makes the soul to long after God and Christ — after their
presence and communion, acquaintance with them, and
conformity to them — and to live so as to please and honour
them ; the spirit that quells contentions among men, and
gives a spirit of peace and good will, excites to acts of
outward kindness, and earnest desires of the salvation of
souls — and causes a delight in those that appear as the
children of God, and followers of Christ ; I say, when a
spirit operates after this manner among a people, there is
the highest kind of evidence of the influence of a true
and divine spirit.
Indeed there is a counterfeit love, that often appears
among those who are led by a spirit of delusion. There
is commonly in the wildest enthusiasts, a kind of union
and affection, arising from self-love, occasioned by their
agreeing in those things wherein they greatly differ from
all others, and from which they are objects ofthe ridicule
of all the rest of mankind. This naturally will cause
them so much the more to prize those peculiarities that
make them the objects of others' contempt. Thus the
ancient Gnostics, and the wild fanatics that appeared at
the beginning of the reformation, boasted of their great
love one to another ; one sect of them, in particular, calling
themselves the family qf love. But this is quite another
thing than that christian love I have just described : it
is only the working of a natural self-love, and no true
benevolence, any more than the union and friendship
which may be among a company of pirates, that are at
war with all the rest of the world. There is enough said
in this passage of the nature of a truly christian love,
thoroughly to distinguish it from all such counterfeits. It
is love that arises from apprehension of the wonderful
riches of the free grace and sovereignty of God's love to
us, in Christ Jesus ; being attended with a sense of our
own utter unworthiness, as in ourselves the enemies and
haters of God and Christ, and with a renunciation of all our
own excellency and righteousness. See ver. 9, 10, 11, and
19. The surest character of true divine supernatural love
— distinguishing it from counterfeits that arise from a
natural self-love — is, that the christian virtue of humility
shines in it ; that which above all others renounces, abases,
and annihilates what we term self. Christian love, or true
charity, is an humble love. 1 Cor. xiii. 4, 5. " Charity
vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself
unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked."
When therefore we see love in persons attended with a
sense of their own littleness, vileness, weakness, and utter
insufficiency ; and so with self-diffidence, self-emptiness,
selfirenunciation, and poverty of spirit ; these are the mani
fest tokens of the Spirit of God. He that thus dwells in
love, dwells in God, and God in him. What the apostle
speaks of as a great evidence of the true Spirit, is God's
love or Christ's love; as ver. 12.— "his love is perfected
in us." What kind of love that is, we may see best in
what appeared in Christ's example. The love that appear
ed in that Lambof God, was not only a love to friends, but
to enemies, and a love attended with a meek and humble
spirit. " Learn of me," says he, " for I am meek and

Sect. II.

WHAT ARE POSITIVE SIGNS?

269

lowly in heart." — Love and humility are two things the
most contrary to the spirit of the devil, of any thing in the
world ; for the character of that evil spirit, above all things,
consists in pride and malice.
Thus I have spoken particularly to the several marks the
apostle gives us of a work of the true Spirit. There are
some of these things which the devil would not do if he
could : thus he would not awaken the conscience, and
make men sensible of their miserable state by reason of
sip, and sensible of their great need of a Saviour ; and he
would not confirm men in the belief that Jesus is the Son
of God, and the Saviour of sinners, or raise men's value
and esteem of him : he would not beget in men's minds
an opinion ofthe necessity, usefulness, and truth ofthe Holy
Scriptures, or incline them to make much use of them ;
nor would he show men the truth, in things that concern
their souls' interest ; to undeceive them, and lead them
out of darkness into light, and give them a view of things
as they really are. And there are other things that the
devil neither can nor will do ; he will not give men a
spirit of divine love, or christian humility and poverty of
spirit ; nor could he if he would. He cannot give those
things he has not himself : these things are as contrary as
possible to his nature. And therefore when there is an
extraordinary influence or operation appearing on the
minds of a people, if these things are found in it, we are
safe in determining that it is the work of God, whatever
other circumstances it may be attended with, whatever in
struments are used, whatever methods are taken to promote
it ; whatever means a sovereign God, whose judgment-
are a great deep, employs to carry it on ; and whatever
motion there may be of the animal spirits, whatever effects
may be wrought on men's bodies. These marks, that the
apostle has given us, are sufficient to stand alone, and sup
port themselves. They plainly show the finger qf God,
and are sufficient to outweigh a thousand such little ob
jections, as many make from oddities, irregularities, errors
in conduct, and the delusions and scandals of some pro
fessors. But here some may object to the sufficiency of the marks
given, what the apostle Paul says in 2 Cor. xi. 13, 14.
" For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transform
ing themselves into the apostles of Christ ; and no marvel,
for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light."
To which I answer, that this can be no objection against
the sufficiency of these marks to distinguish the true from
the false spirit, in those false apostles and prophets, in
whom the devil was transformed into an angel of light,
because it is principally with a view to them that the
apostle gives these marks ; as appears by the words of
the text, " Believe not every spirit, but try the spirits,
whether they are of God ;" and this is the reason he gives,
because many false prophets are gone out into the world :
viz. " There are many gone out into the world who are the
ministers of the devil, who transform themselves into the
prophets of God, in whom the spirit of the devil is trans
formed into an angel of light ; therefore try the spirits by
these rules that I shall give you, that you may be able to
distinguish the true spirit from the false, under such a
crafty disguise." Those false prophets the apostle John
speaks of, are doubtless the same sort of men with those
false apostles, and deceitful workers, that the apostle Paul
speaks of, in whom the devil was transformed into an
angel of light : and therefore we may be sure that these
marks are especially adapted to distinguish between the
true Spirit, and the devil transformed into an angel of
light, because they are given especially for that end ; that
is the apostle's declared purpose and design, to give marks
by which the true Spirit may be distinguished from that
sort of counterfeits.
And if we look over what is said about these false pro
phets, and false apostles, (as there is much said about
them in the New Testament,) and take notice in what
manner the devil was transformed into an angel of light in
them, we shall not find any thing that in the least injures
the sufficiency of these marks to distinguish the true Spirit
from such counterfeits. The devil transformed himself
into an angel of light, as there was in them a show, and
geat boast, of extraordinary knowledge in divine things ;
ol. ii. 8. 1 Tim. i. 6, 7. and chap. vi. 3—5. 2 Tim. ii.

14—18. Tit. i. 10, 16. Hence their followers called
themselves Gnostics, from their great pretended know
ledge : and the devil in them mimicked the miraculous
gifts of the Holy Spirit, in visions, revelations, prophecies,
miracles, &c. Hence they are called false apostles, and
false prophets : see Matt. xxiv. 24. Again, there was a
false snow of, and lying pretensions to, great holiness and
devotion in words : Rom. xvi. 17, 18. Ephes. iv. 14.
Hence they are called deceitful workers, and wells and
clouds without water. 2 Cor. xi. 13. 2 Pet. ii. 17. Jude
12. There was also in them a show of extraordinary piety
and righteousness in their superstitious worship : Col. ii.
16—23. So they had a false, proud, and bitter zeal:
Gal. iv. 17, 18. 1 Tim. i. 6. and chap. vi. 4, 5. And
likewise a felse show of humility, in affecting an extra
ordinary outward meanness and dejection, when indeed
they were " vainly puffed up in their fleshly mind :" and
made a righteousness of their humility, and were exceed
ingly lifted up with tlieir eminent piety : Col. ii. 18, 23.
But how do such things as these in the least injure those
things that have been mentioned as the distinguishing
evidences of the true Spirit ? — Besides such vain shows
which may be from the devil, there are common influences
of the Spirit, which are often mistaken for saving grace ;
but these are out of the question, because though they are
not saving, yet are the work of the true Spirit.
Having thus fulfilled what I at first proposed, in con
sidering what are the certain, distinguishing marks, by
which we may safely proceed in judging of any work that
fells under our observation, whether it be the work of the
Spirit of God or no ; I now proceed to the Application.
SECT. III.
Practical inferences.
I. From what has been said, I will venture to draw
this inference, viz. That the extraordinary influence that
has lately appeared, causing an uncommon concern and
engagedness cf mind about the things qf religion, is un
doubtedly, in the general, from the Spirit of God. There
are but two things that need to be known in order to such
a work's being judged of, viz. Facts and rules. The rules
of the word of God we have had laid before us ; and as
to facts, there are but two ways that we can come at them,
so as to be in a capacity to compare them with the rules,
either by our own observation, or by information from
others who have had opportunity to observe them.
As to this work, there are many things concerning it
that are notorious, and which, unless the apostle John was
out in his rules, are sufficient to determine it to be in
general the work of God. The Spirit that is at work, takes
off persons' minds from the vanities of the world, and
engages them in a deep concern about eternal happiness,
and puts them upon earnestly seeking their salvation, and
convinces them of the dreadfulness of sin, and of their
own guilty and miserable state as they are by nature. It
awakens men's consciences, and makes them sensible of
the dreadfulness of God's anger, and causes in them a
great desire and earnest care and endeavour to obtain his
favour. It puts them upon a more diligent improvement
of the means of grace which God has appointed ; accom
panied with a greater regard to the word of God, a desire
of hearing and reading it, and of being more conversant
with it than they used to be. And it is notoriously mani
fest, that the spirit that is at work, in general, operates as
a spirit of truth, making persons more sensible of what is
really true in those things that concern their eternal salva
tion : as, that they must die, and that life is very short and
uncertain ; that there is a great sin-hating God, to whom
they are accountable, and who will fix them in an eternal
state in another worid ; and that they stand in great need
of a Saviour. It makes persons more sensible of the value
of Jesus who was crucified, and their need of him ; and
that it puts them upon earnestly seeking an interest in
him. It cannot be but that these things should be appa
rent to people in general through the land ; for these
things are not done in a corner ; the work has not been
confined to a few towns, in some remoter parts, but has
been carried on in many places all over the land, and in

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD.

270
most of the principal, the populous, and public places in
it. Christ in this respect has wrought amongst us, in the
same manner that he wrought his miracles in Judea. lt
has now been continued for a considerable time ; so that
there has been a great opportunity to observe the manner
of the work. And all such as have been very conversant
with the subjects of it, see a great deal more, that, by the
rules of the apostle, does clearly and certainly show it to
be the work of God.
And here I would observe, that the nature and tendency
of a spirit that is at work, may.be determined with much
greater certainty, and less danger of being imposed upon,
when it is observed in a great multitude of people of all
sorts, and in various places, than when it is only seen in a
few, in some particular place, that have been much con
versant one with another. A few particular persons may
agree to put a cheat upon others, by a false pretence, and
professing things of which they never were conscious.
But when the work is spread over great parts of a country,
in places distant from one another, among people of all
sorts and of all ages, and in multitudes possessed of a sound
mind, good understanding, and known integrity ; there
would be the greatest absurdity in supposing, from all the
observation that can be made by all that is heard from
and seen in them — for many months together, and by
those who are most intimate with them in these affairs,
and have long been acquainted with them— that yet it
cannot be determined what kind of influence the operation
they are under, has upon people's minds, can it not be
determined whether it tends to awaken their consciences,
or to stupify them ; whether it inclines them more to seek
their salvation, or neglect it ; whether it seems to confirm
them in a belief of the Scriptures, or to lead them to deism;
whether it makes them have more regard for the great
truths of religion, or less ?
And here it is to be observed, that for persons to profess
that they are so convinced of certain divine truths, as to
esteem and love them in a saving manner ; and for them
to profess, that they are more convinced- or confirmed in
the truth of them, than they used to be, and find that they
have a greater regard to them than they had before, are
two very different things. Persons of honesty and com
mon sense, have much greater right to demand credit to be
given to the latter profession, than to the former. Indeed
in the former, it is less likely that a people in general
should be deceived, than some particular persons. But
whether persons' convictions, and the alteration in their
dispositions and affections, be in a degree and manner that
is saving, is beside the present question. If there be such
effects on people's judgments, dispositions, and affections,
as have been spoken of, whether they be in a degree and
manner that is saving or no, it is nevertheless a sign of
the influence of the Spirit of God. Scripture rules serve
to distinguish the common influences of the Spirit of God,
as well as those that are saving, from the influence of other
causes. And as, by the providence of God, I have for some
months past been much amongst those who have been the
subjects of the work in question ; and particularly, have
been in the way of seeing and observing those extraordi
nary things with which many persons have been offended;
— such as persons' crying out aloud, shrieking, being put
into great agonies of body, &c. — and have seen the manner
and issue of such operations, and the fruits of them, for
several months together ; many of them being persons
with whom I have been intimately acquainted in soul
concerns, before and since ; so I look upon myself called
on this occasion to give my testimony, that — so far as the
nature and tendency of such a work is capable of falling
under the observation of a by-stander, to whom those that
have been the subjects of it have endeavoured to open
their hearts, or can be come at by diligent and particular
inquiry — this work has all those marks that have been
pointed out. And this has been the case in very many
instances, in every article ; and in many others, all those
marks have appeared in a very great degree.
The subjects of these uncommon appearances, have been
of two sorts ; either those who have been in great distress
from an apprehension of their sin and misery ; or those
who have been overcome with a sweet sense of the great

ness, wonderfulness, and excellency of divine things. Of
the multitude of those of the former sort, that I have had
opportunity to observe, there have been very few, but their
distress has arisen apparently from real proper conviction,
and being in a degree sensible of that which was the truth.
And though I do not suppose, when such things were ob
served to be common, that persons have laid themselves
under those violent restraints to avoid outward manifest
ations of their distress, that perhaps they otherwise would
have done ; yet there have been very few in whom there
lias been any appearance of feigning or affecting such
manifestations, and very many for whom it would have
been undoubtedly utterly impossible for them to avoid
them. Generally, in these agonies they have appeared to
be in the perfect exercise of their reason ; and those of
them who could speak, have been well able to give an ac
count ofthe circumstances of their mind, and the cause of
their distress, at the time, and were able to remember, and
give an account of it afterwards. I have known a very
few instances of those, who, in their great extremity, have
for a short space been deprived, in some measure, of the
use of reason ; but among the many hundreds, and it may
be thousands, that have lately been brought lo such agonies,
I never yet knew one lastingly deprived of their reason.
In some that I have known, melancholy has evidently
been mixed ; and when it is so, the difference is very ap
parent ; their distresses are of another kind, and operate
quite after another manner, than when their distress is from
mere conviction. It is not truth only that distresses them,
but many vain shadows and notions that will not give
place either to Scripture or reason. Some in their great
distress have not been well able to give an account of
themselves, or to declare the sense they have of things, or
to explain the manner and cause of their trouble to others,
that yet I have had no reason to think were not under
proper convictions, and in whom there has been manifested
a good issue. But this will not be at all wondered at, by
those who have had much to do with souls under spiritual
difficulties : some things of which they are sensible, are
altogether new to them ; their ideas and inward sensations
are new, and what they therefore know not how to express
in words. Some who, on first inquiry, said they knew
not what was the matter with them, have on being particu
larly examined and interrogated, been able to represent
their case, though of themselves they could not find ex
pressions and forms of speech to do it.
Some suppose, that terrors producing such effects are
only a fright. But certainly there ought to be a distinction
made between a very great fear, or extreme distress arising
from an apprehension of some dreadful truth— a cause
fully proportionable to such an effect — and a needless,
causeless fright. The latter is of two kinds ; either, first,
when persons are terrified with that which is not the truth ;
(of which I have seen very few instances unless in case of
melancholy ;) or, secondly, when they are in a fright from
some terrible outward appearance and noise, and a general
notion thence arising. These apprehend, that there is
something or other terrible, they know not what ; without
having in their minds any particular truth whatever. Of
such a kind of fright I have seen very little appearance,
among either old or young.
Those who are in such extremity, commonly express a
great sense of their exceeding wickedness, the multitude
and aggravations of their actual sins ; their dreadful pol
lution, enmity, and perverseness ; their obstinacy and hard
ness of heart ; a sense of their great guilt in the sight of
God ; and the dreadfulness of the punishment due to sin.
Very often they have a lively idea of the horrible pit of
eternal misery ; and at the same time it appears to them,
that the great God who has them in his hands, is exceed
ingly angry, and his wrath appears amazingly terrible to them.
God appears to them so much provoked, and his great
wrath so increased ; that they are apprehensive of great
danger, and that he will not bear with them any longer ;
but will now forthwith cut them off, and send them down
to the dreadful pit they have in view; at the same time
seeing no refuge. They see more and more of the vanity
of every thing they used to trust to, and with which they
flattered themselves, till they are brought wholly to de
spair in all, and to see that they are at the disposal of the

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271

mere will of that God who is so angry with them. Very I
many, in the midst of their extremity, have been brought
to an extraordinary sense of their fully deserving that
wrath, and the destruction which was then before their
eyes. They feared every moment, that it would be exe
cuted upon them ; they have been greatly convinced that
this would be altogether just, and that God is indeed ab
solutely sovereign. Very often, some text of Scripture
expressing God's sovereignty, has been set home upon
their minds, whereby they have been calmed. They have
been brought, as it were, to lie at God's feet ; and after
great agonies, a little before light has arisen, they have
been composed and quiet, in submission to a just and
sovereign God ; but their bodily strength much spent.
Sometimes their lives, to appearance, were almost gone ;
and then light has appeared, and a glorious Redeemer,
with his wonderful, ali-sufficient grace, has been repre
sented to them often, in some sweet invitation of Scrip
ture. Sometimes the light comes in suddenly, sometimes
more gradually, filling their souls with love, admiration,
joy, and self-abasement : drawing forth their hearts after
the excellent lovely Redeemer, and longings to lie in the
dust before him ; and that others might behold, embrace,
and be delivered by him. They had longings to live to
his glory ; but were sensible that they can do nothing of
themselves, appearing vile in their own eyes, and having
much jealousy over their own hearts. And all the appear
ances of a real change of heart have followed ; and grace
has acted, from time to time, after the same manner that it
used to act in those that were converted formerly, with the
like difficulties, temptations, buffetings, and comforts ;
excepting that in many, the light and comfort have been in
higher degrees than ordinary. Many very young children
have been thus wrought upon. There have been some
instances very much like those (Mark i. 26. and chap. ix.
26.^ of whom we read, that " when the devil had cried
with a loud voice, and rent them sore, he came out of
' them." And probably those instances were designed for a
type of such things as these. Some have several turns of
great agonies, before they are delivered ; and others have
been in such distress, which has passed off, and no deli
verance at all has followed .
Some object against it as great confusion, when there is a
number together in such circumstances making a noise ;
and say, God cannot be the author of it ; because he is the
God of order, not of confusion. But let it be considered,
what is the proper notion of confusion, but the breaking
that order of things, whereby they are properly disposed,
and duly directed to their end, so that the order and due
connexion of means being broken, they fail of their end.
Now the conviction of sinners for their conversion is the
obtaining of the end of religious means. Not but that I
think the persons thus extraordinarily moved, should en
deavour to refrain from such outward manifestations, what
they well can, and should refrain to their utmost, at the
time of their solemn worship. But if God is pleased to
convince the consciences of persons, so that they cannot
avoid great outward manifestations, even to interrupting
and breaking off those public means they were attending,
I do not think this is confusion, or an unhappy interrup
tion, any more than if a company should meet on the field
to pray for rain, and should be broken off from their exer
cise by a plentiful shower. Would to God that all the
public assemblies in the land were broken off from their
public exercises with such confusion as this the next sab
bath day ! We need not be sorry for breaking the order of
means, by obtaining the end to which that order is di
rected. He who is going to fetch a treasure, need not be
sorry that he is stopped, by meeting the treasure in the
midst of his journey.
¦ Besides those who are overcome with conviction and dis
tress, I have seen many of late, who have had their bodily
strength taken away with a sense ofthe glorious excellency
of the Redeemer, and the wonders of his dying love ; with
a very uncommon sense of their own littleness and exceed
ing vileness attending it, with all expressions and appear
ances of the greatest abasement and abhorrence of them
selves. Not only new converts, but many who were, as
we hope, formerly converted, have had their love and joy
attended with a flood of tears, and a great appearance of

contrition and humiliation, especially for their having lived
no more to God's glory since their conversion. These have
had a far greater sight of their vileness, and the evil of their
hearts, than ever they had ; with an exceeding earnestness
of desire to live better for the time to come, but attended
with greater self-diffidence than ever : and many have been
overcome with pity to the souls of others, and longing for
their salvation. — And many other things I might mention,
in this extraordinary work, answering to every one of those
marks which have been insisted on. So that" if the apostle
John knew how to give signs of a work of the true Spirit,
this is such a work.
Providence has cast my lot in a place where the work
of God has formerly been carried on. I had the happiness
to be settled in that place two years with the venerable
Stoddard ; and was then acquainted with a number who,
during that season, were wrought upon under his ministry.
I have been intimately acquainted with the experiences of
many others who were wrought upon under his ministry,
before that period, in a manner agreeable to the doctrine of
all orthodox divines. And of late, a work has been carried
on there, with very much of uncommon operations; but it
is evidently the same work that was carried on there, in
different periods, though attended with some new circum
stances. And certainly we must throw by all talk of con
version and christian experience; and not only so, but we
must throw by our Bibles, and give up revealed religion ; if
this be not in general the work of God. Not that I sup
pose the degree of the Spirit's influence is to be determined
by the degree of effect on men's bodies ; or, that those are
always the best experiences which have the greatest influ
ence on the body.
And as to the imprudencies, irregularities, and mixture
of delusion that has been observed ; it is not at all to be
wondered at, lhat a reformation, after a long-continued and
almost universal deadness, should at first, when the revival
is new, be attended with such things. In the first creation
God did not make a complete world at once ; but there
was a great deal of imperfection, darkness, and mixture of
chaos and confusion, after God first said, " Let there be
light," before the whole stood forth in perfect form. When
God at first began his great work for the deliverance of his
people, after their long-continued bondage in Egypt, there
were false wonders mixed with the true for a while ; which
hardened the unbelieving Egyptians, and made them to
doubt of the divinity of the whole work. When the chil
dren of Israel first went to bring up the ark of God, after it
had been neglected, and had been long absent, they sought
not the Lord after the due order, 1 Chron. xv. 13. At the
time when the sons of God came to present themselves
before the Lord, Satan came also among them. And So
lomon's ships, when they brought gold, and silver, and
pearls, also brought apes and peacocks. When day-light
first appears after a night of darkness, we must expect to
have darkness mixt with light for a while, and not have
perfect day and the sun risen at once. The fruits of the
earth are first green before they are ripe, and come to their
proper perfection gradually ; and so, Christ tells us, is the
kingdom of God. Mark iv. 26, 27, 28. "So is the king
dom of God ; as if a man should cast seed into the ground,
and should sleep, and rise night and day ; and the seed
should spring and grow up, he knoweth not how : for the
earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then
the ear, after that the full corn in the ear."
The imprudences and errors that have attended this
work, are the less to be wondered at, if it be considered,
that chiefly young persons have been the subjects of it, who
have less steadiness and experience, and being in the heat
of youth, are much more ready to run to extremes. Satan
will keep men secure as long as he can ; but when he can
do that no longer, he often endeavours to drive them to
extremes, and so to dishonour God, and wound religion m
that way. And doubtless it has been one occasion of much
misconduct, that in many places, people see plainly that
their ministers have an ill opinion of the work ; and there
fore, with just reason, durst not apply themselves to them
as their guides in it ; and so are without guides. — No won
der then that when a people are as sheep without a shep
herd, they wander out of the way. A people in such
circumstances, stand in great and continual need of guides,

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD.

272
and their guides stand in continual need of much more
wisdom than they have of their own. And if a people
have ministers that favour the work, and rejoice in it, yet
it is not to be expected that either the people or ministers
should know so well how to conduct themselves in such
an extraordinary state of things — while it is new, and what
they never had any experience of before, and time to see
their tendency, consequences, and issue. The happy in
fluence of experience is very manifest at this day, in the
people among whom God has settled my abode. The
work which has been carried on there this year, has been
much purer than that which was wrought there six years
before : it has seemed to be more purely spiritual ; free
from natural and corrupt mixtures, and any thing savouring
of enthusiastic wildness and extravagance. It has wrought
more by deep humiliation and abasement before God and
men ; and they have been much freer from imprudences
and irregularities. And particularly there has been a re
markable difference in this respect, that whereas many
before, in their comforts and rejoicings, did too much for
get their distance from God, and were ready in their con
versation together of the things of God, and of their own
experiences, to talk with too much lightness ; but now
they seem to have no disposition that way, but rejoice with
a more solemn, reverential, humble joy, as God directs.
(Psal. ii. 11.) Not because the joy is not as great, and
in many instances much greater. Many among us who
were wrought upon in that former season, have now had
much greater communications from heaven than they had
then. Their rejoicing operates in another manner; it
abases them, breaks their hearts, and brings them into the
dust. When they speak of their joys, it is not with
laughter, but a flood of tears. Thus those that laughed
before, weep now, and yet by their united testimony, their
joy is vastly purer and sweeter than that which before did
more raise their animal spirits. They are now more like
Jacob, when God appeared to him at Bethel, when he saw
the ladder that reached to heaven, and said, " How dread
ful is this place !" And like Moses, when God showed
him his glory on the mount, when he made haste and
" bowed himself unto the earth."
II. Let us all be hence warned, by no means lo oppose,
or do any thing in the least to clog or hinder, the work;
but, on tlie contrary, do our utmost to prontote it. Now
Christ is come down from heaven in a remarkable and
wonderful work of his Spirit, it becomes all his professed
disciples to acknowledge him, and give him honour.
The example of the Jews in Christ's and the apostles'
times, is enough to beget in those who do not acknow
ledge this work, a great jealousy of themselves, and to
make them exceeding cautious of what they say or do.
Christ then was in the world, and the world knew him
not : he came to his own professing people, and his own
received him not. That coming of Christ had been much
spoken of in the prophecies of Scripture which they had
in their hands, and it had been long expected ; and yet
because Christ came in a manner they did not expect, and
which was not agreeable to their carnal reason, they would
not own him. Nay, they opposed him, counted him a
madman, and pronounced the spirit that he wrought by
to be the spirit of the devil. They stood and wondered
at the great things done, and knew not what to make of
them ; but yet they met with so many stumbling-blocks,
that they finally could not acknowledge him. And when
the Spirit of God came to be poured out so wonderfully
in the apostles' days, they looked upon it as confusion
and distraction. They were astonished by what they saw
and heard, but not convinced. And especially was the
work of God then rejected by those that were most con
ceited of their own understanding and knowledge, agree
able to Isa. xxix. 14. " Therefore, behold, I will proceed
to do a marvellous work amongst this people, even a mar
vellous work and a wonder ; for the wisdom of their wise
men shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent
men shall be hid." And many who had been in reputa
tion for religion and piety, had a great spite against the
work, because they saw it tended to diminish their
honour, and to reproach their formality and lukewarm
ness. Some, upon these accounts, maliciously and openly
opposed and reproached the work of the Spirit of God,

and called it the work of the devil, against inward con-
victiofl, and so were guilty of the unpardonable sin against
the Holy Ghost.
There is another, a spiritual coming of Christ, to set up
his kingdom in the world, that is as much spoken of in
scripture prophecy as that first coming, and which has
long been expected by the church of God. We have rea
son to think, from what is said of this, that it will be, in
many respects, parallel with the other. And certainly, that
low state into which the visible church of God has lately
been sunk is very parallel with the state of the Jewish
church, when Christ came ; and therefore no wonder at
all, that when Christ comes, his work should appear a
strange work to most ; yea, it would be a wonder if it
should be otherwise. Whether the present work be the
beginning of that great and frequently predicted coming
of Christ to set up his kingdom, or not, it is evident, from
what has been said, that it is a work of the same Spirit,
and of the same nature. And there is no reason to doubt,
but that the conduct of persons who continue long to re
fuse acknowledging Christ in the work — especially those
who are set to be teachers in his church — will be in like
manner provoking to God, as it was in the Jews of old,
while refusing to acknowledge Christ; notwithstanding
what they may plead of the great stumbling-blocks that
are in the way, and the cause they have to doubt of the
work. The teachers of the Jewish church found innu
merable stumbling-blocks, that were to them insuperable.
Many things appeared in Christ, and in the work of the
Spirit after his ascension, which were exceeding strange to
them ; they seemed assured that they had just cause
for their scruples. Christ and his work were to the
Jews a stumbling-block ; " But blessed is he," says
Christ, " whosoever shall not be offended in me." As
strange and as unexpected as the manner of Christ's ap
pearance was, yet he had not been long in Judea working
miracles, before all those who had opportunity to observe,
and yet refused to acknowledge him, brought fearful guilt
upon themselves in the sight of God ; and Christ con
demned them, that though " they could discern the face
of the sky, and of the earth, yet they could not discern
the signs of those times : and why," says he, " even of
yourselves, judge ye not what is right?" Luke xii. at the
latter end.
It is not to be supposed that the great Jehovah has
bowed the heavens, and appeared here now for so long a
time, in such a glorious work of his power and grace — in
so extensive a manner, in the most public places of the
land, and in almost all parts of it — without giving such
evidences of his presence, that great numbers, and even
many teachers in his church, can remain guiltless in his
sight, without ever receiving and acknowledging him, and
giving him honour, and appearing to rejoice in his gra
cious presence ; or without so much as once giving him
thanks for so glorious and blessed a work of his grace,
wherein his goodness does more appear, than if he had
bestowed on us all the temporal blessings that the world
affords. A long-continued silence in such a case is un
doubtedly provoking to God ; especially in ministers. It
is a secret kind of opposition, that really tends to hinder
the work. Such silent ministers stand in the way of the
work of God, as Christ said of old, " He that is not with
us is against us." Those who stand wondering at this
strange work, not knowing what to make of it, and re
fusing to receive it — and ready it may be sometimes to
speak contemptibly of it, as was the case with the Jews
of old — would do well to consider, and to tremble at St.
Paul's words to them, Acts xiii. 40, 41. " Beware there
fore lest that come upon you, which is spoken of in the
prophets, Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, and perish ;
for I work a work in your days, which you shall in no
wise believe, though a man declare it unto you." Those
who cannot believe the work to be true, because of the
extraordinary degree and manner of it, should consider
how it was with the unbelieving lord in Samaria, who
said, " Behold, if the Lord should make windows in
heaven, might this thing be V To whom EJisha said,
" Behold, thou shalt see it with thine eyes, but shalt not
eat thereof." Let all to whom this work is a cloud and
darkness— ^s the pillar of cloud and fire was to the Egyp-

Sect. III.

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273

tians — take heed that it be not their destruction, while it
gives light to God's Israel.
I would entreat those who quiet themselves, that they
proceed on a principle of prudence, and are waiting to see
the issue of things — and what fruits those that are the
subjects of this work will bring forth in their lives and
conversations — to consider, whether this will justify a
long refraining from acknowledging Christ when he ap
pears so wonderfully and graciously present in the land.
It is probable that many of those who are thus waiting,
know not for what they are waiting. If they wait to see a
work of God without difficulties and stumbling-blocks, it
will be like the fool's waiting at the river side to have the
water all run by. A work of God without stumbling-
blocks is never to be expected. " It must need be that
offences come." There never yet was any great manifest
ation that God made of himself to the world, without
many difficulties attending it. It is with the works of
God, as with his word : they seem at first full of things
that are strange, inconsistent, and difficult to the carnal
unbelieving hearts of men. Christ and his work always
was, and always will be, a stone of stumbling, and rock of
offence, a gin and a snare to many. The prophet Hosea,
(chap, xiv.) speaking of a glorious revival of religion in
God s church— when God would be as the dew unto Israel,
who shouid grow as the lily, and cast forth his roots as
Lebanon, whose branches should spread, &c. — concludes
all thus ; " Who is wise, and he shall understand these
things ? prudent, and he shall know them ? for the ways
of the Lord are right, and the just shall walk in them : but
the transgressors shall fall therein."
It is probable that the stumbling-blocks that now attend
this work, will in some respects be increased, and not
diminished. We probably shall see more instances of
apostacy and gross iniquity among professors. And if one
kind of stumbling-blocks are removed, it is to be expected
that others will come. It is with Christ's works as it was
with his parables ; things that are difficult to men's dark
minds are ordered of purpose, for the trial of their dispo
sitions and spiritual sense; and that those of corrupt
minds and of an unbelieving, perverse, cavilling spint,
" seeing might see and not understand." Those who are
now waiting to see the issue of this work, think they shall
be better able to determine by and by; but probably
many of them are mistaken. The Jews that saw Christ's
miracles, waited to see better evidences of his being the
Messiah; they wanted a sign from heaven; but they
waited in vain ; their stumbling-blocks did not diminish,
but increase. They found no end to them, and so were
more and more hardened in unbelief. Many have been
praying for that glorious reformation spoken of in Scrip
ture, who knew not what they have been praying for, (as
it was with the Jews when they prayed for the coming of
Christ,) and who, if it should come, would not acknow
ledge or receive it.
This pretended prudence, in persons waiting so long be
fore they acknowledged this work, will probably in the
end prove the greatest imprudence. Hereby they will fail
of any share of so great a blessing, and will miss tbe most
precious opportunity of obtaining divine light, grace, and
comfort, heavenly and eternal benefits, that God ever gave
in New England. While the glorious fountain is set open
in so wonderful a manner, and multitudes flock to it and
receive a rich supply for the wants of their souls, they
stand at a distance,' doubting, wondering, and receiving
nothing, and are like to continue thus till the precious
season is past. — It is indeed to be wondered at, that those
who have doubted of the work, which has been attended
with such uncommon external appearances, should be easy
in their doubts, without taking thorough pains to inform
themselves, by going where such things have been to be
seen, narrowly observing and diligently inquiring into
them ; not contenting themselves with observing two or
three instances, nor resting till they were fully informed by
their own observation. I do not doubt but that if this
course had been taken, it would have convinced all whose
minds are not shut up against conviction. How greatly
have they erred, who only from the uncertain reproofs of
others, have ventured to "speak slightly of these things !
That caution of an unbelieving Jew might teach them
VOL. II. t

more prudence, Acts v. 38, 39. " Refrain from these men,
and let them alone ; for if this counsel or this work be ot
men, it will come to nought ; but if it be of God, ye can
not overthrow it ; lest haply ye be found to fight against
God." Whether what has been said in this discourse be
enough to produce conviction, that this is the work of .God,
or not ; yet I hope that for the future, they will at least
hearken to the caution of Gamaliel, now mentioned ; so
as not to oppose it, or say any thing which has even an
indirect tendency to bring it into discredit, lest they should
be found opposers of the Holy Ghost. There is no kind
of sins so hurtful and dangerous to the souls of men, as
those committed against the Holy Ghost. We had better
speak against God the Father, or the Son, than to speak
against the Holy Spirit in his gracious operations on the
hearts of men. Nothing will so much tend for ever to
prevent our having any benefit of his operations on our
own souls.
If there be any who still resolutely go on to speak con
temptibly of these things, I would beg of them to take
heed that they be not guilty of the unpardonable sin.
When the Holy Spirit is much poured out, and men's
lusts, lukewarmness, and hypocrisy are reproached by its
powerful operations, then is the most likely time of any,
for this sin to be committed. If the work goes on, it is
well if among the many that show an enmity against it,
some be not guilty of this sin, if none have been already.
Those who maliciously oppose and reproach this work, and
call it the work of the devil, want but one thing of the
unpardonable sin, and that is, doing it against inward con
viction. And though some are so prudent, as not openly
to oppose and reproach this work, yet it is to be feared —
at this day, when the Lord is going forth so gloriously
against his enemies — that many who are silent and inac
tive, especially ministers, will bring that curse of the angel
of the Lord upon themselves, Judg. v. 23. " Curse ye
Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the
inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of
the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty.'
Since the great God has come down from heaven, and
manifested himself in so wonderful a manner in this iand,
it is vain for any of us to expect any other than to be
greatly affected by it in our spiritual state and circum
stances, respecting the favour of God, one way or other.
Those who do not become more happy by it, will become
far more guilty and miserable. It is always so ; such a
season as proves an acceptable year, and a time of great
favour to them who accept and improve it, proves a day of
vengeance to others. Isa. lix. 2. When God sends forth
his word, it shall not return to him void; much less his
Spirit. When Christ was upon earth in Judea, many
slighted and rejected him ; but it proved in the issue to be
no matter of indifference to them. God made all thatpeople
to feel that Christ had been among them ; those who did
not feel it to their comfort, felt it to their great sorrow.
When God only sent the prophet Ezekiel to the children
of Israel, he declared that whether they would hear or
whether they would forbear, yet they should know that
there had been a prophet among them ; how much more
may we suppose that when God has appeared so wonder-
fuily in this land, that he will make every one to know
that the great Jehovah had been in New England. — I come
now, in the last place,
III. To apply myself to those who are the friends of
this work, who have been partakers of it, and are zealous
to promote it. Let me earnestly exhort such to give dili
gent heed to themselves to avoid all errors and miscon
duct, and whatever may darken and obscure the work; and
to give no occasion to those. who stand ready to reproach
it. The apostle was careful to cut off occasion from those
that desired occasion. The same apostle exhorts Titus,
to maintain a strict care and watch over himself, that
both his preaching and behaviour might be such as " could
not be condemned ; that he who whs of the contrary part
might be ashamed, having no evil thing to say of them,"
Tit. ii. 7, 8. We had need to be wise as serpents and
harmless as doves. It is of no small consequence that we
should at this day behave ourselves innocently and pru
dently. We must expect that the great enemy of this
work will especially try his utmost with us ; and he will

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD

274
especially triumph if he can prevail in any thing to blind
and mislead us. He knows it will do more to further his
purpose and interest than if he prevailed against a hun
dred others. We had need to watch and pray, for we are
but little children ; this roaring lion is too strong for us, and
this old serpent too subtle.for us.
Humility and self-diffidence, and an entire dependence
on our Lord Jesus Christ, will be our best defence. Let
us therefore maintain the strictest watch against spiritual
pride, or being lifted up with extraordinary experiences and
comforts, and the high favours of heaven, that any of us
mav have received. We had need, after such favours, in a
special manner to keep a strict and jealous eye upon our
own hearts, lest there should arise self-exalting reflections
upon what we have received, and high thoughts of our
selves, as being now some of the most eminent of saints
and peculiar favourites of heaven, and that the secret of
the Lord is especially with us. Let us not presume, that
we above all are fit to be advanced as the great instructors
and censors of this evil generation ; and, in a high con
ceit of our own wisdom and discerning, assume to our
selves the airs of prophets, or extraordinary ambassadors
of heaven. When we have great discoveries of God made
to our souls, we should not shine bright in our own eyes.
Moses, when he had been conversing with God in the
mount, though his face shone so as to dazzle the eyes of
Aaron and the people, yet he did not shine in his own
eyes ; " he wist not that his face shone." Let none think
themselves out of danger of this spiritual pride, even in
their best frames. God saw that the apostle Paul (though
probably the most eminent saint that ever lived) was not
out of danger of it, no, not when he had just been con
versing with God in the third heaven : see 2 Cor. xii. 7.
Pride is the worst viper in the heart ; it is the first sin
that ever entered into the universe, lies lowest of all in the
foundation of the whole building of sin, and is the most
secret, deceitfui, and unsearchable in its ways of working,
of any lusts whatever. It is ready to mix with every
thing ; and nothing is so hateful to God, contrary to the
spirit of the gospel, or of so dangerous consequence ; and
there is no one sin that does so much let in the devil into
the hearts of the saints, and expose them to his delusions.
I have seen it in many instances, and that in eminent
saints. The devil has come in at this door presently after
some eminent experience and extraordinary communion
with God, and has woefully deluded and led them astray,
till God has mercifully opened their eyes and delivered
them ; and they themselves have afterwards been made
sensible that it was pride that betrayed them.
Some of the true friends of the work of God's Spirit
have erred in giving too much heed to impulses and strong
impressions on their minds, as though they were imme
diate significations from heaven to them, of something that
should come to pass, or something that it was the mind
and will of God that they should do, which was not signi
fied or revealed any where in the Bible without those im
pulses. These impressions, if they are truly from the
Spirit of God, are of a quite different nature from his
gracious influences on the hearts of the saints : they
are of the nature of the extraordinary gifts of the
Spirit, and are properly inspiration, such as the prophets
and apostles and others had of old ; which the apostle
distinguishes from the grace of the Spirit, 1 Cor. xiii.
One reason why some have been ready to lay weight on
such impulses, is an opinion they have had, that the glory
of the approaching happy days of the church would part
ly consist in restoring those extraordinary gifts of the
Spirit. This opinion, I believe, arises partly through want
of duly considering and comparing the nature and value
of those two kinds of influences of the Spirit, viz. those
that are ordinary and gracious, and those that are extraor
dinary and miraculous. Tlie former are by far the most
excellent and glorious ; as the apostle largely shows.
(1 Cor. xii. 31, &c.) Speaking of the extraordinary gifts
of the Spirit, he says, " But covet earnestly the best gifts ;
and yet I show you a more excellent way ;" i. e. a more
excellent way of the influence of the Spirit. And then he
goes on, in the next chapter, to show what that more excel
lent way is, even the grace of that Spirit, which summarily
consists' in charity, or divine love. And throughout that

chapter he shows the great preference of that above in
spiration. God communicates his own nature to the soul
in saving grace in the heart, more than in all miraculous
gifts. The blessed image of God consists in that and not
iii these. The excellency, happiness, and glory of the soul,
immediately consists in the former. That is a root which
bears infinitely more excellent fruity Salvation and the
eternal enjoyment of God is promised to divine grace, but
not to inspiration. A man may have those extraordinary
gifts, and yet be abominable to God, and go to hell. The
spiritual and eternal life of the soul consists in the grace
of the Spirit, which God bestows only on his favourites
and dear children. He has sometimes thrown out the
other as it were to dogs and swine, as he did to Balaam,
Saul, and Judas ; and some who, in the primitive times of
the christian church, committed the unpardonable sin.
(Heb. vi.) Many wicked men at the day of judgment will
plead, " Have we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy
name cast out devils, and in thy name done many wonder
ful works." The greatest privilege of the prophets and
apostles, was not their being inspired and working mira
cles, but their eminent holiness. The grace that was in
their hearts, was a thousand times more their dignity aud
honour, than their miraculous gifts. The things in which
we find David comforting himself, are not his being a
king, or a prophet, but the holy influences of the Spirit of
God in his heart, communicating to him divine light, love,
and joy. The apostle Paul abounded in visions, revela
tions, and miraculous gifts, above all the apostles ; but yet
he esteems all things but loss for the excellency of the
spiritual knowledge of Christ. It was not the gifts but
the grace of the apostles, that was the proper evidence of
their names being written in heaven ; in which Christ
directs them to rejoice, much more than in the devils being
subject to them. To have grace in the heart, is a higher
privilege than the blessed Virgin herself had, in having the
body of the second person in the Trinity conceived in her
womb, by the power of the Highest overshadowing her :
Luke xi. 27, 28. " And it came to pass as he spake these
things, a certain woman of the company lift up her voice,
and said unto him ; Blessed is the womb that bare thee,
and the paps that thou hast sucked ! But he said, Yea,
rather blessed are they that hear the word of God and
keep it." See also to the same purpose, Matt. xii. 47,
&c. — The influence of the Holy Spirit, or divine charity
in the heart, is the greatest privilege and glory of the high
est archangel in heaven ; yea, this is the very thing by
which the creature has fellowship with God himself, with
the Father and the Son, in their beauty and happiness.
Hereby the saints are made partakers of the divine nature,
and have Christ's joy fulfilled in themselves.
The ordinary sanctifying influences of the Spirit of God,
are the end of all extraordinary gifts, as the apostle shows,
Ephes. iv. 11,12, 13. They are good for nothing, any
further than as they are subordinate to this end ; they will
be so far from profiting any without it, that they will
only aggravate their misery. This is, as the apostle ob
serves, the most excellent way of God's communicating
his Spirit to his church, it is the greatest glory of the
church in all ages. This glory is what makes the church on
earth most like the church in heaven, when prophecy, and
tongues, and other miraculous gifts, cease. And God com
municates his Spirit only in that more excellent way of
which the apostle speaks, viz. charity or divine love,
" which never faileth." Therefore the glory of the ap
proaching happy state of the church does not "at all require
these extraordinary gifts. As that state of the church will
be the nearest of any to its perfect state in heaven, so I
believe it will be like it in this, that all extraordinary gifts
shall have ceased and vanished away ; and all those stars,
and the moon, with the reflected light they gave in the
night, or in a dark season, shall be swallowed up in the
sun of divine love. The apostle speaks of these gifts of
inspiration as childish things, in comparison of the in
fluence of the Spirit in divine love ; things given to the
church only to. support it in its minority, till the church
should have a complete standing rule established, and all
the ordinary means of grace should be settled; but as things
that should cease, as the church advanced to the state of
manhood. 1 Cor. xiii. 11. " When I was a child, I i

Sect. III.

PRACTICAL INFERENCES AND APPLICATION.

275

as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child ;
but when 1 became a man, I put away childish things ;"
compared with the three preceding verses.
When the apostle, in this chapter, speaks of prophecies,
tongues, and revelations ceasing, and vanishing away in the
church — when the christian church should be advanced
from a state of minority to a state of manhood — he seems
to have respect to its coming to an adult state in this
world, as well as in heaven ; for he speaks of such a state
of manhood, wherein those three things, Faith, Hope, and
Charity, should remain after miracles and revelations had
ceased ; as in the last verse, and " now abideth (mw, re
maineth) Faith, Hope, and Charity, these three." The
apostle's manner of speaking here shows an evident refer
ence to what he had just been saying before ; and here is a
manifest antithesis, between remaining, and that failing,
ceasing, and vanishing away, spoken of in the 8th verse.
The apostle had been showing how all those gifts of
inspiration, which were the leading-strings of the christian
church in its infancy, should vanish away, when the church
came to a state of manhood. Then he returns to observe,
what things remain after those had failed and ceased ; and
he observes that those three things shall remain in the
church, Faith, Hope, and Charity : and therefore the adult
state of the church he speaks of, is the more perfect one at
which it shall arrive on earth, especially in the latter ages
of the world. And this was the more properly observed to
the church at Corinth, upon two accounts; because the
apostle had before observed to that church, that they were
in a state of infancy, chap. iii. 1, 2. And because that
church seems above all others to have abounded with mira
culous gifts. — When the expected glorious state of the
church comes, the increase of light shall be so great lhat it
will in some respect answer what is said, ver. 12. of seeing
face to face. (See Isa. xxiv. 23. and xxv. 7.)
Therefore I do not expect a restoration of these miracu
lous gifts in the approaching glorious times ofthe church,
nor do I desire it. It appears to me, that it would add
nothing to the glory of those times, but rather diminish
from it. For my part, I had rather enjoy the sweet influ
ences of the Spirit, showing Christ's spiritual divine beauty,
infinite grace, and dying love, drawing forth the holy exer
cises of faith, divine love, sweet complacence, and humble
joy in God, one quarter of an hour, than to have propheti
cal visions and revelations the whole year. It appears to
me much more probable that God should give immediate
revelations to his saints in the dark times of prophecy, than
now in the approach of the most glorious and perfect state
of his church on earth, lt does not appear to me that
there is any need of those extraordinary gifts to introduce
this happy state, and set up the kingdom of God through
the world ; I have seen so much of the power of God in a
more excellent way, as to convince me that God can easily
do it without.
I would therefore entreat the people of God to be very
cautious how they give heed to such things. I have seen
them fail in very many instances, and know by experience
that impressions being made with great power, and upon
the minds of true, yea eminent, saints — even in the midst
of extraordinary exercises of grace, and sweet communion
with God, and attended with texts of Scripture strongly im
pressed on the mind — are no sure signs of their being reve
lations from heaven. I have known such impressions fail,
in some instances, attended with all these circumstances.
They who leave the sure word of prophecy— which God
has given us as a light shining in a dark place— to follow
such impressions and impulses, leave the guidance of the
polar star, to follow a Jack with a lantern. No wonder
therefore that sometimes they are led into woeful extrava
gancies. Moreover, seeing inspiration is not to be expected, let
us not despise human learning. They who assert that human
learning is of little or no use in the work of the ministry,
do not well consider what they say ; if they did, they would
not say it. By human learning I mean, and suppose others
mean, the improvement of common knowledge by human
and outward means. And therefore to say, that human
learning is of no use, is as much as to say that the educa
tion of a child, or that the common knowledge which a
grown man has more than a little child, is of no use. At
t 2

this rate, a child of four years old is as fit for a teacher in
the church of God, with the same degree of grace— and
capable of doing as much to advance the kingdom of
Christ, by his instruction — as a very knowing man of thirty
years of age. If adult persons have greater ability and ad
vantage to do service, because they have more knowledge
than a little child, then doubtless if they have more human
knowledge still, with the same degree of grace, they would
have still greater ability and advantage to do service. An
increase of knowledge, without doubt, increases a man's
advantage either to do good or hurt, according as he is dis
posed. It is too manifest to be denied, that God made
great use of human learning in the apostle Paul, as he also
did in Moses and Solomon.
And if knowledge, obtained by human means, is not to
be despised, then it will follow that the means of obtaining
it are not to be neglected, viz. study ; and that this is of
great use in order to a preparation for publicly instructing
others. And though having the heart full of the powerful
influences of the Spirit of God, may at some time enable
persons to speak profitably, yea, very excellently, without
study ; yet this will not warrant us needlessly to cast our
selves down from the pinnacle of the temple, depending
upon it that the angel of the Lord will bear us up, and
keep us from dashing our foot against a stone, when there
is another way to go down, though it be not so quick.
And I would pray, that method, in public discourses, which
tends greatly to help both the understanding and memory,
may not be wholly neglected.
Another thing I would beg the dear children of God
more fully to consider of, is, how far, and upon what
grounds, the rules ofthe Holy Scriptures will truly justify
their passing censures upon other professing Christians, as
hypocrites, and ignorant of real religion. We all know
that there is a judging and censuring of some sort or other,
that the Scripture very often and very strictly forbids. I
desire that those rules of Scripture may be looked into,
and thoroughly weighed ; and that it may be considered
whether our taking it upon us to discern the state of others
— and to pass sentence upon them as wicked men, though
professing Christians, and of a good visible conversation —
be not really forbidden by Christ in the New Testament.
If it be, then doubtless the disciples of Christ ought to
avoid this practice, however sufficient they may think them
selves for it ; or however needful, or of good tendency, they
may think it. It is plain that the sort of judgment which
God claims as his prerogative, whatever that be, is forbid
den. We know that a certain judging of the hearts of the
children of men, is often spoken of as the great prerogative
of God, and which belongs only to him ; as in 1 Kings
viii. 39. " Forgive, and do, and give unto every man ac
cording to his ways, whose heart thou knowest; for thou,
even thou only, knowest the hearts of all the children of
men." And if we examine, we shall find that the judging
of hearts which is spoken of as God's prerogative, relates
not only to the aims and dispositions of men's hearts in
particular actions, but chiefly to the state of their hearts as
the professors of religion, and with regard to that profession.
This will appear very manifest by looking over the follow
ing scriptures ; 1 Chron. xxviii. 9. Psal. vii. 9, 10, 11. Psal.
xxvi. throughout. Prov. xvi. 2. and xvii. 3. and xxi. 2.
Job ii. 23, 24, 25. Rev. ii. 22, 23. That sort of judging
which is God's proper business, is forbidden, as Rom. xiv.
4. " Who art thou that judgest another man's servant ? to
his own master he standeth or faileth." Jam. iv. 12.
" There is one lawgiver that is able to save or destroy ;
who art thou that judgest another ?" 2 Cor. iv. 3, 4. " But
with me it is a very small thing, that I should be judged of
you, or of man's judgment; yea Ijudge not mine own self;
but he that judgeth me is the Lord."
Again, whatsoever kind of judging is the proper work
and business of the day of judgment, is what we are for
bidden, as in 1 Cor. iv. 5. " Therefore judge nothing be
fore the time, until the Lord come ; who both will bring
to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make
manifest the counsels of the heart ; and then shall every
man have praise of God." But to distinguish hypocrites,
that have the form of godliness and the visible conversation
of godly men, from true saints ; or, to separate the sheep
from the goats, is the proper business ofthe day of judg-

MARKS OF A WORK OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD.

270
ment • yea it is represented as the main business and
end of that day. They therefore do greatly err who
take it upon them positively to determine who are sincere,
and who are not— to draw the dividing line between true
saints and hypocrites, and to separate between sheep and
goats, setting the one on the right hand and the other on
the left— and to distinguish and gather out the tares from
amongst the wheat. Many of the servants of the owner of
the field are very ready to think themselves sufficient for
this and are forward to offer their service to this end ;
but 'their Lord says, " Nay, lest while ye gather up the
tares ye root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow
together until the harvest;" and in the time of harvest 1
will take care to see a thorough separation made; as
Matt. xiii. 28, 29, 30. Agreeably to that forementioned
prohibition of the apostle, 1 Cor. iv. 5. " Judge nothing
before the time." In this parable, by the servants who
have the care of the fruit of the field, is doubtless meant
the same with the servants who have the care of the fruit
of the vineyard, Luke xx. and who are elsewhere repre
sented as servants of the Lord of the harvest, appointed as
labourers in his harvest. These we know are ministers of
the gospel. Now is that parable in the 13th of Matthew
fulfilled : " While men sleep," (during a long sleepy,
dead time in the church,) " the enemy has sowed tares ;
now is the time " when the blade is sprung up, and re
ligion is reviving ; and now some ofthe servants who have
the care of the field say, " Let us go and gather up the
tares."-  1 know there is a great aptness in men who
suppose they have had some experience of the power of
religion, to think themselves sufficient to discern and de
termine the state of others by a little conversation with
them ; and experience has taught me that this is an error.
I once did not imagine that the heart of man had been so
unsearchable as it is. I am less charitable, and less un
charitable than once I was. I find more things in wicked
men that may counterfeit, and make a fair show of, piety ;
and more ways that the remaining corruption of the godly
may make them appear like carnal men, formalists, and
dead hypocrites, than once I knew of. The longer 1 live,
the less I wonder that God challenges it as his prerogative
to try the hearts of the children of men, and directs that
this business should be let alone till harvest. I desire to
adore the wisdom of God, and his goodness to me and my
fellow-creatures, that he has not committed this great
business into the hands of such a poor, weak, and dim-
sighted creature— one of so much blindness, pride, par
tiality, prejudice, and deceitfulness of heart— but has com
mitted it into the hands of one infinitely fitter for it, and
has made it his prerogative.
The talk of some persons, and the account they give ot
their experiences, is exceedingly satisfying, and such as
forbids and banishes the thought of their being any other
than the precious children of God. It obliges, and as it
were forces, full charity ; but yet we must allow the Scrip
tures to stand good that speak of every thing in the saint,
belonging to the spiritual and divine life, as hidden. (t_ol.
iii 3 4) Their food is the hidden manna; they have
meat to eat that others know not of; a stranger inter
meddles not with their joys. The heart in which they
possess their divine distinguishing ornaments, is the hidden
man, and in the sight of God only, 1 Pet. m. 4. Their
new name, which Christ has given them, no man knows
but he that receives it, Rev. ii. 17. The praise of the true
Israelites, whose circumcision is that of the heart, is not ot
men but of God, Rom. ii. 29. that is, they can be cer
tainly known and discerned to be Israelites, so as to have
the honour that belongs to such, only of God ; as appears
by the use of the like expression by the same apostle,
l' Cor. iv. 5. Here he speaks of its being God s preroga
tive to judge who are upright Christians, and what he will
do at the day of judgment, adding, " and then shall every
man have praise of God."
The instance of Judas is remarkable ; whom— though he
had been so much amongst the rest of the disciples, all
persons of true experience, yet— his associates never seemed
to have entertained a thought of his being any other than a
true disciple, till he discovered himself by his scandalous
practice.— And the instance of Alntophel is also very re
markable ; David did not suspect him, though so wise and

holv a man, so great a divine, and had such a great acquaint
ance whh Store. He knew more than all his teachers,
more to thePancients, was grown old in experienced
was in the greatest ripeness of his judgment He was. a
CTeat proplTet, and was intimately acquainted with Ah i-
Self he being his familiar friend, and most intimate
companion in religious and spiritual concerns Yet David
S never discovered him to be a hypocrite, but relied
upon him as a true saint. He relished his religious dis
course, it was sweet to him, and he counted him an eminent
saint ; so that he made him above any other man his guide
and counsellor in soul matters; but yet he was not on y
no saint, but a notoriously wicked man, a murderous, vile
wretch. Psal. Iv. 11-14. "Wickedness is in the midst
thereof; deceit and guile depart not from her streets : for
it was not an open enemy that reproached me, then 1
could have borne it ; neither was it he that hated me, that
did magnify himself against me, then I would have hid
myself from him : but it was thou, a man mine equal, my
guide and mine acquaintance : we took sweet counsel to
gether, and walked unto the house of God in company.
To suppose that men have ability and right to determine
the state of the souls of visible Christians, and so to make
an open separation between saints and hypocrites, that
true saints may be of one visible company, and hypo
crites of another, separated by a partition that men make,
carries in it an inconsistency : for it supposes that God has
given men power to make another visible church, within his
visible church ; for by visible Christians or visible saints is
meant, persons who have a right to be received as such in the
eye of a public charity. None can have a right to exclude
any one of this visible church but in the way of that regu
lar ecclesiastical proceeding, which God has established
in his visible church.— I beg of those who have a true zeal
for promoting this work of God, well to consider these
things. I am persuaded, that as many of them as have
much to do with souls, if they do not hearken to me now,
will be of the same mind when they have had more ex
perience. ,
And another thing that I would entreat the zealous
friends of this glorious work of God to avoid, is managing
the controversy with opposers with too much heat, and
appearance of an angry zeal ; and particularly insisting
very much in public prayer and preaching, on the perse
cution of opposers. If their persecution were ten times so
great as it is, methinks it would not be best to say so
much about it. If it becomes Christians to be like lambs,
not apt to complain and cry when they are hurt; it be
comes them to be dumb and not to open their mouth,
after the example of our dear Redeemer ; and not to be
like swine, that are apt to scream aloud when they are
touched. We should not be ready presently to think and
speak of fire from heaven, when the Samaritans oppose us,
and will not receive us into their villages. God s zealous
ministers would do well to think of the direction the apostle
Paul gave to a zealous minister, 2 Tim. ii. 24—26. " And
the servant ofthe Lord must not strive, but be gentle unto
all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing
those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will
give them repentance, to the acknowledging of the truth ;
and that they may recover themselves out of tlie snare of
the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will."
I would humbly recommend to those that love the
Lord Jesus Christ, and would advance his kingdom, a
good attendance to that excellent rule of prudence which
Christ has left us, Matt. ix. 16, 17. "No man putteth a
piece of new cloth into an old garment; for that which is
put into fill it up, taketh from the garment, and the rent is
made worse. Neither do men put new wine into old
bottles ; else the bottles break and the wine runneth out,
and the bottles perish. But they put new wine into new
bottles, and both are preserved." 1 am afraid the wine is
now running out in some part of this land, for want of at
tending to this rule. For though 1 believe we have con
fined ourselves too much to a certain stated method and
form in the management of our religious affairs ; which
has had a tendency to cause all our religion to degenerate
into mere formality ; yet whatever has the appearance of a
great innovation— that tends much to shock and surprise
people's minds, and to set them a talking and disputing—

Sect. III.

PRACTICAL INFERENCES AND APPLICATION.

tends greatly to hinder the progress of the power of re
ligion. It raises the opposition of some, diverts tlie minds
of others, and perplexes many with doubts and scruples.
It causes people to swerve from their great business, and
turn aside to vain jangling. Therefore that which is very
much beside the common practice, unless it be a thing in
its own nature of considerable impoi'tance, had better be
avoided. Herein we shall follow the example of one who
had the greatest success in propagating the power of re
ligion. 1 Cor. ix. 20—23. " Unto the Jews I became as

277
a Jew, that I might gain the Jews ; to them that are undei
the law, as under' the law, that I might gain them that are
under the law ; to them that are without law, as with
out law, (being not without law to God, but under to
Christ,) that I might gain them that are without law. To
the weak became 1 as weak, that I might gain the weak.
I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means
save some. And this I do for the gospel's sake, that I
might be partaker thereof with you."

HUMBLE ATTEMPT

TO PBOMOTE

EXPLICIT AGREEMENT AND VISIBLE UNION OF GOD'S PEOPLE,
JN
EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER,
FOR THE REVIVAL OF RELIGION AND THE ADVANCEMENT OF CHRIST'S KINGDOM ON EARTH.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The following is the original title more at large ; which the editors are disposed to preserve, as it contains a more
particular exhibition of the nature and design of the work. How suitable the work itself is, in reference to the present
state of things, we leave to the reader's own reflection.
"An Humble Attempt to promote an explicit agreement and visible union of Gods people through the world, m ex
traordinary prayek, for the revival of religion, and the advancement of Christ's kingdom on earth, pursuant to
scripture promises and prophecies concerning the last time, OCCASIONED
By a late memorial published by a number of ministers in Scotland, and sent over to America; giving an account of
a certain concert for prayer, — which has already been come into by many ministers and others in Great Britain
and some other parts, and in which they desire the general concurrence of their christian brethren every where.
CONTAINING
A copy of the said memorial with a more particular view of the affair it relates to ; a variety of arguments and per
suasives to comply with the motion therein made, for united and extraordinary prayer ; and answers to some objections.
TOGETHER WITH
Seasonable considerations on the aspects of providence in many late wonderful dispensations, and the present state of
things in the church and moral world ; pointing out the fulfilling of the Scriptures, and the voice qf God to his
people, in these events."

PREFACE BY A FORMER ENGLISH EDITOR.
If any inquire why the ensuing work is re-published, I would beg leave to lay before them the following intelli
gence. At an association of the ministers and messengers of the Baptist Churches in the counties of Northampton, Leicester ,_
&c. held at Nottingham, in the year 1784, a resolution was formed to establish through the association, a meeting qf
prayer for the general revival and spread qf religion. This was to be observed the first Monday evening in every
calendar month, by all the churches. It still continues. — In 1786, another Baptist association commonly called the
Midland, held that year at Aulcester, in the county of Warwick, entered into the same resolution. Many other
churches, particularly* in Yorkshire, have adopted, and now follow, the above practice. We have the pleasure also to
find, that several Padobaptist churches statedly meet on those evenings for the same purpose.
The re-publication of the following work is with the avowed design of promoting the above agreement and practice.
Those concerned in its first institution, never intended it should be confined to any peculiar connexion, or particular
denomination. Rather they ardently wished it might become general among the real friends of truth and holiness.
The advocates of error are indefatigable in their endeavours to overthrow the distinguishing and interesting doctrines of
Christianity ; those doctrines which are the grounds of our hope, and sources of our joy. Surely it becomes the
followers of Christ, to use every effort, in order to strengthen the things which remain.
By re-publishing the following work, I do not consider myself as becoming answerable for every sentiment it con
tains. An author and an editor are very distinct characters. Should any entertain different views respecting some of
the prophecies in the inspired page, from those that are here advanced, yet such may, and I hope will, approve of the
general design.

PREFACE. 279
In the present imperfect state, we may reasonably expect a diversity of sentiments upon religious matters. Each
ought to think for liimself; and every one has a right, on proper occasions, to show his opinion. Yet all should re
member, that there are but two parties in the world, each engaged in opposite causes ; the cause of God and of Satan ;
of holiness and sin ; of heaven and hell. The advancement of the one, and the downfall of the other, must appear ex
ceedingly desirable to every real friend of God and man. If such in some respects entertain different sentiments, and
practise distinguishing modes of worship, surely they may unite in the above business. O for thousands upon thousands,
divided into small bands in their respective cities, towns, villages, and neighbourhood, all met at the same time, and in
pursuit of one end, offering up their united prayers, like so many ascending clouds of incense before the Most High ! —
May he shower down blessings on all the scattered tribes of Zion ! Grace, great grace be with all them that love the
Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity ! Amen 1
JOHN SUTCLIFF.
Olney, May 4th, 1789.

PREFACE BY THE AMERICAN EDITORS.
The ruin of Satan's miserable kingdom, and the advancement of the universal and happy reign of Christ on the earth,
were included, and hinted at, in the sentence denounced on the serpent, that the seed ofthe woman should bruise his head.
What was a terrible threatening to Satan, in the surprised ears of our first guilty parents, implied a joyful prophecy , to
keep them from despair, and enliven their hopes, for themselves and their descendants, of obtaining by this seed of hers
an eternal triumph over him who had so sadly foiled them. And it is likely, that their hope and faith immediately arose,
laid hold on the reviving prophecy, earnestly desired its happy accomplishment, and transmitted it to their posterity.
But though this prophecy was at first only delivered in the form of a threatening to Satan, it was afterwards directly
given in the form of a promise to Abraham, though still in general terms, that in his seed should all the nations of the earth
be blessed. Yet this general promise was more clearly by degrees explained in the following ages, to mean a divine
King, no other than the Son of God assuming human nature of the seed of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and David ; that
should be born of a virgin in Bethlehem of Judah ; and at first despised, abused, rejected, and put to death ; but should
rise to immortal life, ascend to heaven, and thence extend his blessed kingdom over all nations; not bv outward force,
but inward overcoming influence, by his word and Spirit making them his wilting people in the day qfhis power; and
reigning in glorious light and holiness, love and peace, for ever : and the advancement of this universal and happy reign
has been the earnest desire and prayer of the saints in all ages to the present day.
But how great the honour, and how lively the encouragement, given in Scripture to those their prayers, by represent
ing them as offered by Christ himself with the fragrant incense of his own merits and intercession, on the golden altar
before the throne, and ascending together in one grateful perfume to God ! And how cheering to every saint is that
promise, from tlie rising qf the sun, even to the going down qf the same, my name shall be great among the Gentiles, and
in every place incense shall be offered unto my name, and a pure offering I How pleasing to God and all the heavenly
hosts to see, as the sun goes round the globe, this grateful incense rising from every part on high ! and the more exten
sive and incessant are these prayers, ascending from tbe circle of tbe earth, the more does this blessed promise go into
its desired fulfilment, and the holy God is more" pleased and glorified. To promote the increase and constancy of these
acceptable prayers, is the great intention both of the pious memorial of our reverend and dear brethren, in Scotland, and
of the worthy author of this exciting essay. And this design we cannot but recommend to all who desire the coming of
this blissful kingdom in its promised extent and glory, in this wretched world.
As to the author's ingenious observation on the prophecies, we entirely leave them to the reader's judgment ; with only
observing, though it is the apprehension of many learned men, that there is to be a very general slaughter qf the witnesses
of Christ, when about finishing their testimony to the pure worship and truths ofthe gospel, about three or four years
before the seventh angel sounds his trumpet for the ruin of antichrist ; — yet we cannot see that this is any just objection
against our joint and earnest prayers for the glorious age succeeding, or for the hastening of it.
For if such a terrible time is coming in Europe, which we in depending America are likely to share in ; the more
need we have of joining in earnest and constant prayers for extraordinary suffering graces for ourselves and others. And
that such a time is coming on the members of Christ, is no more an objection against their prayers for the hastening of
the following glory, than it was before the incarnation of him their head, that his most bitter sufferings were to precede
the spreading of this joyous kingdom among nations. And the nearer the day approaches, the more need we have to be
awakened to continual watchfulness and prayer.
May God pour out on all his people abundantly the Spirit qf grace and supplications, and prepare them for the
amazing changes hastening on the earth, both for previous trials and for following glories.*
Boston, New England, January 12th, 1748.
* This preface was signed by Joseph Sewell, Thomas Prince, John Webb, Thomas Foxcroft, and Joshua Gee.

AN

HUMBLE ATTEMPT, &c.

Zech. viii. 20, 21, 22.
J'hus saith the Lord of hosts, It shall yet come to pass, that there shall come people, and the inhabitants of many cities:
and the inhabitants qf one city shall go to another, saying, Let us go speedily to pray before the Lord, and to seek
the Lord of liosts : I will go also. Yea, many people and strong nations shall come to seek the Lord of hosts in Je
rusalem, and to pray before the Lord.

PART I.
THE TEXT OPENED, AND AN ACCOUNT GIVEN OF THE AFFAIR PROPOSED IN THE MEMORIAL FROM SCOTLAND.

SECT. I.
Explanatory Introduction.
In this chapter we have a prophecy of a future glorious
advancement of the church of God ; wherein it is evident,
that something further is intended than ever was fulfilled
to the Jewish nation under the Old Testament. For here
are plain prophecies of such things as never were fulfilled
before the coming of the Messiah : particularly, what is
said in the two last verses in the chapter, of many people
and strong notions worshipping and seeking the true God ;
and of so great an accession of Gentile nations to the church
of God, that by far the greater part of the visible worship
pers should consist of this new accession, so that they
should be to the other as ten to one. — A certain number
for an uncertain. There never happened any thing, from
tlie time of the prophet Zechariah to the coming of Christ,
to answer this prophecy : and it can have no fulfilment,
but either, in the calling of the Gentiles, in and after the
days of the apostles ; or, in the future glorious enlarge
ment of the church of God in the latter ages of the world,
so often foretold by the prophets of the Old Testament,
and by the prophet Zechariah in particular, in the latter
part of his prophecy. It is most probable, that what the
Spirit of God has chiefly respect to, is that last and greatest
enlargement and most glorious advancement of the church
of God on earth ; in the benefits of which especially the
Jewish nation were to have a share, a very eminent and
distinguished share.
There is a great agreement between what is here said,
and other prophecies that must manifestly have respect to
the church's latter-day glory : As Isa. Ix. 2 — 4. " The
Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen
upon thee : and the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and
kings to the brightness of thy rising. Lift up thine eyes
round about, and see ; all they gather themselves together,
they come to thee." That whole chapter, beyond all dis
pute, has respect to the most glorious state of the church
of God on earth. So chap. lxvi. 8. " Shall the earth be
made to bring forth in one day ? Shall a nation be born at
once?" ver. 10. "Rejoice ye with Jerusalem, and be glad
with her, all ye that love her." ver. 12. "I will extend
peace to her like a river, and the glory of the Gentiles like
a flowing stream." — Micah iv. 1, &c. " But in the last day
it shall come to pass, that the mountain of the house of
* As may be seen by comparing ver. 3. with Isa. Ix. 14. — ver. 4. with
Isa. lxv. 20. 22. and xxxiii. 24— ver. 6, 7, 8. with Ezek. xxxvii. 2, 11, 12. 21.
—ver, 7. with Isa. xliii. 5, 6. and xlix. 12. and lix. 19.— ver. 12, 13. with Hos.

the Lord shall be established in the top of the mountains,
and it shall be exalted above the hills, and people shall
flow unto it; and many nations shall come, and say, Come,
and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the
house of the God of Jacob. — And he shall judge among
many people, and rebuke strong nations afar off; and
they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their
spears into pruning-hooks ; nation shall not lift up sword
against nation, neither shall they learn war any more."
See also Isa. ii. at the beginning. — There has been nothing
yet brought to pass, in any measure, to answer these pro
phecies. And as the prophecy in my text, and the follow
ing verse, agrees with them, so there is reason to think it
has a respect to the same times. And indeed there is a
remarkable agreement in the description given throughout
the chapter, with the representations made of those times
elsewhere in the prophets.*
So that however the prophet, in some parts of this chap
ter, may have respect to future smiles of heaven on the
Jewish nation, lately returned from the Babylonish cap
tivity, and resettled in the land of Canaan, in a great in
crease of their numbers and wealth, and the return of more
captives from Chaldea and other countries, &c. yet the
Spirit of God has doubtless respect to things far greater
than these, and of which these were but faint resemblances.
We find it common in the prophecies of the Old Testa
ment, that when the prophets are speaking of divine
favours and blessings on the Jews, attending or following
their return from the Babylonish captivity, the Spirit of
God takes occasion from thence to speak of the incompa
rably greater blessings on the church, that shall attend and
follow her deliverance from the spiritual or mystical
Babylon, of which those were a type ; and then speaks
almost wholly of these latter and vastly greater things, so
as to seem to forget the former.
And whereas the prophet, in this chapter, speaks of God
bringing his people again from the east and west to
Jerusalem, (ver. 7, 8.) and multitudes qf all nations taking
hold of the skirts of the Jews ; so far as this means literally
that nation of the posterity of Jacob, it cannot chiefly
respect any return of the Jews from Babylon and other
countries, in those ancient times before Christ ; for no
such things attended any such return. It must therefore
have respect to the great calling and gathering of the Jews
into the fold of Christ, and their being received to the bless
ings of his kingdom, after the fall of antichrist, or the
destruction of mystical Babylon.
ii. 21, 22. and Ezek. xxxiv. 22—39. ver. 8. 12, 13. with Ezek. xxxvi. 28-30.
—ver. 13. with Zeph. iii. 20. and Isa. xix. _!.— ver. 19, with Isa. lxi. 3. and
Jer. xxxi. 12, 13,14.

Sect. II.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE TEXT.

281

SECT. II.

Observations on the text.
In the text we have an account how this future glorious
advancement of the church of God should be introduced ;
viz. By great multitudes in different towns and countries
taking up a joint resolution, and coming into an express and
visible agreement, that they will, by united and extraordi
nary prayer, seek to God, that he would come and mani
fest himself, and grant the tokens and fruits of his gracious
presence. — Particularly we may observe,
1. The duty, with the attendance on which the glorious
event foretold shall be brought on; viz.' The duty of
prayer. — Prayer, some suppose, is here to be taken synech-
dachically, for the whole of divine worship ; prayer being a
principal part of worship in the days of the gospel, when
sacrifices are abolished. If so, this is to be understood
only as a prophecy of a great revival of religion, and of
the true worship of God among his visible people, the
accession of others to the church, and turning of multitudes
from idolatry to the worship of the true God. But it
appears to me reasonable to suppose, that something more
special is intended, with regard to the duty of prayer ; con
sidering that prayer is here expressly and repeatedly men
tioned; and also considering how parallel this place is
with many other prophecies, that speak of an extraordinary
spirit of prayer, as preceding and introducing that glorious
day of religious revival, and advancement of the church's
peace and prosperity, so often foretold. Add to this, the
agreeableness of what is here said, with what is said after
wards by the same prophet, of the pouring out qf a spirit
qf grace and supplication, as that with which this great
revival of religion shall begin. (Chap. xii. 10.)
2. The good, that shall be sought by prayer; which is
God himself. — It is said once and again, " They shall go
to pray before the Lord, and to seek the Lord of hosts."
This is the good they ask for, and seek by prayer, The
Lord qf hosts himself. — To seek God, as the expression
may perhaps be sometimes used in Scripture, may signify
no more than seeking the_f_.ow or mercy of God. And if
it be taken so here, praying before the Lord, and seeking
the Lord of hosts, must be synonymous expressions. And
it must be confessed to be a common thing in Scripture,
to signify the same thing repeatedly, by various expressions
ofthe same import, for the greater emphasis.
But certainly that expression of seeking the Lord, is very
commonly used to signify something more ; it implies that
God himself is the great good desired and sought after ;
that the blessings pursued are God's gracious presence,
the blessed manifestations of him, union and intercourse
with him ; or, in short, God's manifestations and commu
nications of himself by his Holy Spirit. Thus the psalmist
desired God, thirsted after him, and sought him. (Psal.
lxiii. 1, 2, 8.) " O God, thou art my God ; early will I
seek thee. My flesh longeth for thee, in a dry and thirsty
land, where no water is ; to see thy power and thy glory, so
as I have seen thee in the sanctuary. — My soul followeth
hard after thee."— (Psal. lxxiii. 25.) " Whom have I in
heaven but thee ? And there is none upon earth that I
desire besides thee." The psalmist earnestly pursued
after God, his soul thirsted after him, he stretched forth his
hands unto him, c/c (Psal. cxliii. 6.) And therefore it is in
Scripture the peculiar character of the saints, that they are
those who seek God. (Psal. xxiv. 6.) " This is the genera
tion of them that seek him." (Psal. lxix. 32.) " Your heart
shall live that seek God." If the expression in the text
be understood agreeably to this sense, then by seeking the
Lord qf hosts, we must understand a seeking, that God
who had withdrawn, or as it were hid himself for a long
time, would return to his church, and grant the tokens and
fruits of his gracious presence, and those blessed commu
nications of his Spirit to his people, and to mankind on
earth, which he had often promised, and which his church
had long waited for.
And it seems reasonable to understand the phrase,
seeking the Lord of hosts, in this sense here ; and not as
merely signifying the same thing with praying to God : not
only because the expression is repeatedly added to praying

before the Lord, in the text ; but also because the phrase,
taken in this sense, is exactly agreeable to other parallel
prophetic representations. Thus God's people seeking, by
earnest prayer, the promised restoration of the church of
God, after the Babylonish captivity, and the great apostacy
that occasioned it, is called their seeking God, and
searching for him; and God's granting this promised
revival and restoration is called his being found of them.
Jer. xxix. 10, 14. " For thus saith the Lord, that after
seventy years be accomplished at Babylon, I will visit
you, and perform my good word towards you, in causing
you to return to this place. For I know the thoughts that
I think towards you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace,
and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall
ye go and call upon me, and I will hearken unto you ; and
ye shall seek me and find me, when ye shall search for me
with all your heart ; and I will he found of you, saith the
Lord, and I will turn away your captivity." And the
prophets, from time to time, represent God, in a low and
afflicted state of his church, as being withdrawn, and hid
ing himself. Isa. xiv. 15. " Verily thou art a God that
hidest thyself, O God of Israel, the Saviour." (Chap. lvii.
17.) " I hid me, and was wroth." And they represent
God's people, while his church is in such a state, before
God delivers and restores the same, as seeking him, looking
for him, searching and waiting for him, and calling after
him. (Hos. v. 15T) " I will go and return unto my pkee,
till they acknowledge their offence, and seek my face from
the house of Jacob, and I will look for him."
And when God, in answer to their prayers and succeed
ing their endeavours, delivers, restores, and advances his
church, according to his promise, then he is said to answer,
and come, and say, Here am I, and to show himself; and
they are said to find him, and see him plainly. (Isa. lviii.
9.) " Then shalt thou cry, and he shall say, Here I am."
(Isa. xiv. 19.) " I said hot unto the seed of Jacob, Seek
ye me in vain." (Chap. xxv. 8, 9.) " The Lord will wipe
away the tears from off all faces, and the rebuke of his
people shall he take away from off the earth. — And it shall
be said in that day, Lo, this is our God, we have waited
for him, and he will save us : This is the Lord, we have
waited for him ; we will be glad, and rejoice in his sal
vation." Together with the next chap. ver. 8, 9. we have
waited for thee ; " the desire of our soul is to thy name,
and to the remembrance of thee. With my soul have I
desired thee in the night ; yea, with my spirit within me
will I seek thee early. For when thy judgments are in the
earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness."
Isa. Iii. 6 — 8. " Therefore my people shall know my
name ; therefore they shall know in that day, that I am he
that doth speak : behold, it is I. How beautiful upon the
mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings,
that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good,
that publisheth salvation, that saith unto Zion, Thy God
reigneth ! Thy watchmen shall lift up the voice, together
shall they sing ; for they shall see eye to eye, when the
Lord shall bring again Zion."
3. We may observe who they are, that shall be united in
thus seeking the Lord of hosts : tlie inhabitants qf many
cities, and of many countries, yea, many people, and strong
nations, great multitudes in different parts of the world
shall conspire in this business. From the representation
made in the prophecy, it appears rational to suppose) that
it will be fulfilled something after this manner :— There
shall be given much of a spirit of prayer to God's people,
in many places, disposing them to come into an express
agreement, unitedly to pray to God in an extraordinary
manner, that he would appear for the help of his church,
and in mercy to mankind, and pour out his Spirit, revive
his work, and advance his spiritual kingdom in the world,
as he has promised. This disposition to prayer, and union
in it, will gradually spread more and more, and increase
to greater degrees ; with which at length will gradually be
introduced a revival qf religion, and a disposition to greater
engagedness in the worship and service of God, amongst
his professing people. This being observed, will be the
means of awakening others, making them sensible of the
wants of their souls, and exciting in them a great concern
for their spiritual and everlasting good, and putting them
upon earnestly crying to God for spiritual mercies, and

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

282
disposing them to join in that extraordinary seeking and
serving of God.
In this manner religion shall be propagated, till the
awakening reaches those that are in the highest stations, and
till whole nations be awakened, and there be at length an
accession of many of the chief nations of the world to the
church of God. Thus after the inhabitants of many cities
of Israel, or of God's professing people, have taken up and
pursued a joint resolution, to go and pray before the Lord,
and seek the Lord of hosts, others shall be drawn to wor
ship and serve him with them ; till at length many people
and strong nations shall join themselves to them ; and
there shall, in process of time, be a vast accession to the
church, so that it shall be ten times as large as it was before ;
yea, at length, all nations shall be converted unto God.
Thus (Zech. viii. 23.) " ten men shall take hold, out of all
languages of the nations, of the skirt of him that is a Jew,"
(in the sense of the apostle, Rom. ii. 28, 29.) "saying, We
will go with you ; for we have heard, that God is with you."
And thus shall be fulfilled, Psal. lxv. 2. " O thou that
hearest prayer, unto thee shall all flesh come."
4. We may observe, the mode of their union in this duty.
It is a visible union, an union by explicit agreement, a joint
resolution declared by one to another, being first proposed
by some, and readily and expressly followed by others.
The inhabitants of one city shall apply themselves to the
inhabitants of another, saying, Let us go, &c. Those to
whom the motion is made, shall comply with it, the pro
posal shall take with many, it shall be a prevailing, spread
ing thing ; one shall follow another's example, one and
another shall say, I will go also. Some suppose, that those
words, I will go also, are to be taken as the words of him
that makes the proposal ; as much as to say, I do not pro
pose that to you, which I am not willing to do myself. I
desire you to go, and am ready to go with you. But this is
to suppose no more to be expressed in these latter words,
than was expressed before in the proposal itself; for these
words, let us go, signify as much. It seems to me much
more natural, to understand these latter words as import
ing the consent of those to whom the proposal is made, or
the reply of one and another that falls in with it. This is
much more agreeable to the plain design of the text, which
is to represent the concurrence of great numbers in this
affair ; and more agreeable to the representation made in
the next verse, of one following another, many taking hold
ofthe skirt qf him that is a Jew.
And though, if the words be thus understood, we must
suppose an ellipsis in the text, something understood that
is not expressed, as if it had been said, those of other cities
shall say, I will go also ; yet, this is not difficult to be
supposed, for such ellipses are very common in Scripture.
We have one exactly parallel with it in Jer. iii. 22. " Re
turn, ye backsliding children, and I will heal your back
slidings. Behold, we come unto thee ; for thou art the Lord
our God," i. e. the backsliding children shall say, " Behold,
we come unto thee," &c. And in Cant. iv. 16. and v. 1.
" Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his plea
sant fruits. I am come into my garden, my sister, my
spouse," i. e. her beloved shall say, " I am come into my
garden." We have the like throughout that song. So Psal.
1. 6, 7. " The heavens shall declare his righteousness ; for
God is Judge himself. Hear, Omypeople,and I will speak,"
i. e. the Judge shall say, " Hear, O my people," &c. So
Psal. Ixxxii. 1, 2. — The psalms and prophets abound with
such figures of speech.
5. We may observe the manner of prayer agreed on, or
the manner in which they agree, to' engage in and perform
the duty. Let us 'go speedily to pray ; or as it is in the
margin, Let us go continually. The words literally trans
lated are, Let us go in going. Such an ingemination, or
doubling of words, is very common in the Hebrew lan
guage, when it is intended that a thing shall be very strongly
expressed. It generally implies the superlative degree of a
thing ; as the holy of holies signifies the most holy. But
it. commonly denotes, not only the utmost degree of a thing,
but also the utmost certainty ; as when God said to Abra
ham, " In multiplying, I will multiply thy seed," (Gen.
xxii. 17.) it implies both that God would certainly mul
tiply his seed, and also multiply it exceedingly. So when
God said to Adam, " In the day that thou eatest thereof,

Part I.

in dying thou shalt die," (as the words are in the original,) it
implies, both that he should surely die, and also that he
should die most terribly, should utterly perish, and be de
stroyed, to the utmost degree.
In short, as the ingemination of words in the Hebrew,
generally denotes the strength of expression, so it is used to
signify almost all those things that are wont to be signified
by the various forms of strong speech in other languages.
It signifies not only the utmost degree of a thing, and its
great certainty ; but also the peremptoriness and terrible
ness of a threatening, the greatness and positiveness of a
promise, the strictness of a command, and the earnestness
of a request. When God says to Adam, " Dying thou
shalt die," it is equivalent to such strong expressions in
English, as, Thou shalt die surely, or indeed; or, Thou
shalt die with a witness. So when it is said in the text,
" Let us go in going, and pray before the Lord," the strength
of the expression represents the earnestness of those that
make the proposal, their great engagedness in the affair.
And with respect to the duty proposed, it may be under
stood to signify that they should be speedy, fervent, and
constant in it ; or, in one word, that it should be thoroughly
performed. 6. We may learn from the tenor of this prophecy, to
gether with the context, that this union in such prayer is
foretold as a becoming and happy thing, what would be ac
ceptable to God, andattended with glorious success.
From the whole we may infer, that it is a very suitable
thing, and well-pleasing to God, for many people, in dif
ferent parts of the world, by express agreement, to come
into a visible union in extraordinary, speedy, fervent, and
constant prayer, for those great effusions of the Holy Spirit,
which shall Dring on that advancement of Christ's church
and kingdom, that God has so often promised shall be in
the latter ages of the world. And so from hence I would
infer the duty of God's people, with regard to the Memorial
lately sent over into America from Scotland, by a number
of ministers there, proposing a method for such an union as
has been spoken of, in extraordinary prayer, for this great
mercy. And it being the special design of this discourse, to per
suade such as are friends lo the interests of Christ's king
dom, to a compliance with the proposal and request made
in that Memorial, I shall, First, give a short historical ac
count of the affair to which it relates, from letters, papers,
and pamphlets, that have come over from Scotland. Se
condly, 1 shall annex the Memorial itself. And then, I
shall offer some arguments and motives, tending to induce
the friends of religion to fall in with what is proposed ;
and lastly, make answer to some objections that may pos
sibly be made against it.

SECT. III.
An historical account qf the concert to which the Memorial
relates.
In October, A.D. 1744, a number of ministers in Scot
land, taking into consideration the state of God's church,
and ofthe world of mankind, judged that the providence of
God, at such a day, did loudly call upon such as were con
cerned for the welfare of Zion, to united extraordinary ap
plications to the God of all grace, suitably acknowledging
him as thefountain of all the spiritual benefits and blessings
of his church, and earnestly praying to him, that he would
appear in his glory, and favour 2ion, and manifest his com
passion to the world of mankind, by an abundant effu
sion of his Holy Spirit on all the churches, and the whole
habitable earth, to revive true religion in all parts of
Christendom, and to deliver all nations from their great and
manifold spiritual calamities and miseries, and bless them
with the unspeakable benefits of the kingdom of our glo
rious Redeemer, and fill the whole earth with his glory.
Consulting one another on the subject, they looked upon
themselves, for their own part, obliged to engage in this duty ;
and, as far as in them lay, to persuade others to the same :
and to endeavour to find out and fix on some method,
that should most effectually tend to promote and uphold

AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONCERT FOR PRAYER.

, .Sect. III.
such extraordinaiy application to heaven among God's
people. After seeking to God by prayer for direction, they de
termined on the following method, as what they would
conform to in their own practice, and propose to be prac
tised by others, for the two years next following, viz. To
set apart some time on Saturday evening, and sabbath
morning, every week, for the purpose aforesaid, as other
duties would allow to every one respectively ; and more
solemnly, the first Tuesday of each quarter, (beginning
with the first Tuesday of November, then next ensuing,)
either the whole day, or part of the day, as persons find
themselves disposed, or think their circumstances will
allow : the time to be spent either in private praying
societies, or in public meetings, or alone in secret, as shall
be found most practicable, or judged most convenient, by
such as are willing, in some way or other, to join in this
affair. Not that any should make promises, or be looked
upon as under strict bonds in any respect, constantly and
without fail to observe every one of these days, whatever
their circumstances should be, Or however other duties and
necessary affairs might interfere ; or that persons should
look upon themselves bound with regard to these days in
any wise as though the time were holy, or the setting of
them apart for religious purposes were established by
sacred authority. But yet, as a proper guard against neg
ligence and unsteadiness, and a prudent preservative from
yielding to a disposition — to which persons might be liable,
through the prevalence of indolence and listiessness — to
excuse themselves on trivial occasions, it was proposed,
that thpse who united in this affair should resolve with
themselves, that if, by urgent business, or otherwise, they
were hindered from joining with others on the very day
agreed on, yet they would not wholly neglect bearing their
part in the duty proposed, but would take the first con
venient day following for that purpose.
The reason why Saturday evening and Lord's-day morn
ing were indeed most convenient for the weekly seasons,
was, that these times being so near the time of dispensing
gospel ordinances through the christian world, which are
the great means, in the use of which God is wont to grant
his Spirit to mankind, and the principal means that tbe
Spirit of God makes use of to carry on his work qf grace,
it may be well supposed that the minds of Christians in
general will at these seasons be especially disengaged from
secular affairs, and disposed to pious meditations and the
duties of devotion, and more naturally led to seek the
communications of the Holy Spirit, and success of the
means of grace. — And as to the quarterly times, it was
thought helpful to memory, that they should be on one or
other of the first days of each quarter : Tuesday was pre
ferred to Monday, because in some places people might
have public prayers and a sermon on the stated day, which
might not be so convenient on Monday, as on some day at
a greater distance from the sabbath.
It was reckoned a chief use of such an agreement and
method as this, that it would be a good expedient for
maintaining and keeping up, amongst the people of God,
the gi-eat christian duty of prayerfulness for the coming of
Christ's kingdom. Those things to which we are too little
inclined, through sloth, carnality, or a fulness of our own
worldly and private concerns — and which are to be attend
ed to at some seasons or other, but have no special seasons
stated for them— are apt to be forgotten, or put off from
time to time, and as it were adjourned without a day. But
when we fix on certain seasons, which we resolve, unless
extraordinarily hindered, to devote to the duty, it tends to
prevent forgetfulness, and a settled negligence of it. The
certain returns of the season will naturally refresh the
memory ; will tend to put us in mind of the precept of
Christ,'and the obligations that lie on all his followers, to
abound in such a duty, and renewedly engage us to the
consideration of the importance, necessity, and unspeakable
value of the mercy sought ; and so, by frequent renovation,
to keep alive the consideration and sense of these things at
all times.
Thus the first promoters of this agreement judged, that
it would be subservient to more abundant prayerfulness
for effusions of the Holy Spirit at all times through the

283

year, both in secret and social worship; particularly as to
this last, in congregations, families, and other praying so
cieties. And they also judged, that such an agreed union
would tend to animate and encourage God's people in the
duty proposed ; and that particular persons and societies,
knowing that great multitudes of their fellow-Christians,
in so many distant places, were at the same time (as a
token of the union of their hearts with them in this af
fair) by agreement engaged in the same holy exercise, would
naturally be enlivened in the duty by such a considera
tion. It was not thought best to propose, at first, a longer time
for the continuance of this precise method, than two years :
it being considered, that it is not possible, before any trial,
so well to judge ofthe expedience of a particular method,
and certain circumstances of managing such an affair, as
after some time of experience. And it was not known, but
that after long consideration, and some trial, it might be
thought best to alter some circumstances ; or whether
others, that had not yet been consulted, might not propose
a better method. The time first agreed on, though but
short, was thought sufficient to give opportunity for judg
ment and experience, and for such as were disposed to
unite in an affair of such a nature, in distant places,
mutually to communicate their sentiments on the subject.
The way which those who first projected, and came into
this agreement, thought best for giving notice of it, and
proposing it to others, was not by the press, but by personal
conversation with such as they could conveniently have
immediate access to, and by private correspondence with
others at a distance. At first it was intended, that some
formal paper, proposing the matter, should be sent about
for proper amendments and improvements, and then con
currence : but on more mature deliberation, it was con
sidered how this might give a handle to objections ; (which
they thought it best, to the utmost, to avoid in the infancy
of the affair ;) and how practicable it was, without any such
formality, to spread the substance of the proposal by private
letters, together with a request to their correspondents
mutually tocommunicate their thoughts. Therefore this was
fixed on, as the preferable method at the beginning. Ac
cordingly, they proposed, and endeavoured to promote the
affair, in this way ; and with such success, that great
numbers in Scotland and England fell in with the proposal,
and some in North America. As to Scotland, it was com
plied with by numbers in the four chief towns, Edinburgh,
Glasgow, Aberdeen, and Dundee,and many country towns
and congregations in various parts of the land. One of
the ministers who was primarily concerned in this affair,
in a letter to one of his correspondents, speaks of an ex
plicit declaration of the concurrence of the praying societies
in Edinburgh, which they had made in a letter. The
number of the praying societies in that city is very con
siderable. Mr. Robe, of Kilsyth, (in a letter to Mr. Prince,
of Boston, .dated Nov. 3, 1743,) says, there were then above
thirty societies of young people there newly erected, some
of which consisted of upwards of thirty members. As to
Glasgow, this union was unanimously agreed to by about
forty-five praying societies there ; as an eminent minister
in that city informs in a letter.
The two years first agreed on ended last November. A
little before this time expired, a number of ministers in
Scotland agreed on a Memorial to be printed, and sent
abroad to their brethren in various parts, proposing to
them, and requesting of them, to join in the continuance
of this method of united prayer, and endeavouring to pro
mote it. Copies of which Memorial have lately been sent
over to New England, (to the number of near 500,) direct
ed to be distributed in almost every country in this pro
vince of the Massachusetts Bay, and also in several parts of
Connecticut, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, New York,
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, Carolina,
and Georgia. Most of these, I suppose, were sent to one
of the congregational ministers in Boston, with a letter
subscribed by twelve ministers in Scotland, about the af
fair : — many of them to another of the said ministers of
Boston ; and some to a minister in Connecticut. — It being
short, I shall here insert a copy of it at length.

284

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part I.

SECT. IV.
A memorial from several ministers in Scotland, to their
brethren in different places, for continuing a Concert for
Prayer, first entered into in the year 1744.
Whereas it was the chief scope of this concert to pro
mote more abundant application to a duty that is perpetu
ally binding, prayer that our Lord's kingdom may come,
joined with praises : and it contained some circumstantial
expedients, apprehended to be very subservient to that
design, relating to stated times for such exercises, so far as
this would not interfere with other duties; particularly a
part of Saturday evening and sabbath morning, every week ;
and more solemnly of some one of the first days of each of
the four great divisions of the year, that is, of each quarter;
as the first Tuesday, or first convenient day after ; * and
the concert, as to this circumstance, was extended only to
two years ; it being intended, that before these expired, per
sons engaged in the concert should reciprocally communi
cate their sentiments and inclinations, as to the prolonging
of the time, with or without alteration, as to the circum
stance mentioned : and it was intended by the first promoters,
that others at a distance should propose such circumstantial
amendments or improvements, as they should find proper :
it is hereby earnestly entreated, that such would commu
nicate their sentiments accordingly, now that the time first
proposed is near expiring.
II. To induce those already engaged to adhere, and
others to accede to this concert; it seems of importance to
observe, that declarations of concurrence, the communicat
ing and spreading of which are so evidently useful, are to
be understood in such a latitude,as to keep at the greatest
distance from entangling men's minds : not as binding
men to set apart any stated days from secular affairs, or
even to fix on any part of such and such precise days,
whether it be convenient or not : not as absolute promises
in any respect; but as friendly, harmonious resolutions,
with liberty to alter circumstances as shall be found expe
dient. On account of all which latitude, and that the
circumstantial part extends only to a few years, it is ap
prehended, the concert cannot be liable to the objections
against periodical religious times of human appointment.
III. It is also humbly offered to the consideration of
ministers, and others furnished with gifts for the most
public instructions, whether it might not be of great use,
by the blessing of God, if short and nervous scriptural
persuasives and directions to the duty in view, were com
posed and published, (either by particular authors, or several
joining together; which last way might sometimes have
peculiar advantages,) and that from time to time, without
too great intervals ; the better to keep alive on men's
minds a just sense of the obligations to a duty so impor
tant in itself, and in which many may be in danger to
faint and turn remiss, without such repeated incitements :
and whether it would not also be qf great use, if ministers
would be pleased to preach frequently on the importance
and necessity of prayer for the coming qf our Lord's king
dom ; particularly near the quarterly days, or on these days
themselves, where there is public worship at that time.
IV. They who have found it incumbent on them to
publish this Memorial at this time, having peculiar ad
vantages for spreading it, do entreat that the desire of con
currence and assistance contained in it, may by no means
be understood as restricted to any particular denomination

or party, or to those who are of such or such opinions
about any former instances of remarkable religious con
cern ; but to be extended to all, who shall vouchsafe any
attention to this paper, and have at heart the interest of
vital Christianity, and the power qf godliness ; and who,
however differing about other things, are convinced of the
importance of fervent prayer, to promote that common in
terest, and of scripture persuasives to promote such prayer.
V. As the first printed account of this concert was not
a proposal of it, as a thing then to begin, but a narration
of it, as a design already set on foot, which had been
brought about with much harmony, by means of private
letters; so the farther continuance, and, it is hoped, the
farther spreading of it, seems in a promising way of being
promoted by the same means ; as importunate desires of
renewing the concert have been transmitted already from a
very distant corner abroad, where the regard to it has of
late increased : but notwithstanding what may be done
by private letters, it is humbly expected, that a memorial
spread in this manner, may, by God's blessing, further
promote the good ends in view ; as it may be usefully
referred to in letters, and may reach where they will not.
VI. Whereas in a valuable letter, from the corner just
now mentioned, as a place where a regard to the concert
has lately increased, it is proposed, that it should be con
tinued for seven years, or at least for a much longer time
than what was specified in the first agreement ; those con
cerned in this Memorial, who would wish rather to receive
and spread directions and proposals on this head, than to
be the first authors of any, apprehend no inconvenience,
for their part, in agreeing to the seven years, with the lati
tude above described, which reserves liberty to make such
circumstantial alterations, as may be hereafter found ex
pedient : on the contrary it seems of importance, that the
iabour of spreading a concert, which has already extended
to so distant parts, and may, it is hoped, extend further,
may not need to be renewed sooner, at least much sooner;
as it is uncertain but that may endanger the dropping of
it ; and it seems probable, there will be less zeal in
spreading it, if the time proposed for its continuance be
too inconsiderable. — Meantime, declarations of concur
rence for a less number of years may greatly promote the
good ends in view ; though it seems very expedient, that
it should exceed what was first agreed on ; seeing it is
found on trial, that that time, instead of being too long,
was much too short.
VII. If any person who formerly agreed to this concert,
should now discontinue it ; would it not look too like that
fainting in prayer, against which we are so expressly
warned in Scripture ? And would not this be the more
unsuitable at this time, in any within the British dominions,
when they have the united calls of such public chastise
ments and deliverances,1^ to more concern than ever about
public reformation, and consequently about that which is
the source of all thorough reformation, the regenerating
and sanctifying influence of the Almighty Spirit of God 1
—August 26, 1746.
N. B. The minister in Boston afore-mentioned to whom
most of the copies of this Memorial were sent, wtyo, I
suppose, has had later and more full intelligence than 1
have had concerning the proposal, in a letter, The mo
tions seem to come from above, and to be wonderfully
spreading in Scotland, England, Wales, Ireland, and in
North America.

PART II.
MOTIVES TO A COMPLIANCE WITH WHAT IS PROPOSED IN THE MEMORIAL.

I now proceed to the second thing intended in this
Discourse, viz. to offer to consideration some things,
which may tend to induce the people of God to comply
with the proposal and request, made lo them in the Me
morial. * The meaning is, the first Tuesdays of February, May, August, and
November, or the first convenient days after these.

SECT. I.
The latter-day glory not yet accomplished.
It is evident from the Scripture, that there is yet re
maining a great advancement of the interest of religion
t Alluding, probably, to the rebellion in 1745, and the defeat of the
rebels. — W.

THE LATTER-DAY GLORY NOT YET ACCOMPLISHED.

Sect. I.
and the kingdom qf Christ in this world, by an abundant
outpouring of the Spirit qf God, far greater and more ex
tensive than ever yet has been. It is certain, that many
things, which are spoken concerning a glorious time of the
church's enlargement and prosperity in the latter days,
have never yet been fulfilled. There has never yet been
any propagation and prevalence of religion, in any wise,
of that extent and universality which the prophecies re
present. It is often foretold and signified, in a great va
riety of strong expressions, that there should a time come,
when all nations, throughout the whole habitable world,
should embrace the true religion, and be brought into the
church of God. It was often promised to the patriarchs,
that " in their seed all the nations, or (as it is sometimes
expressed) all the families of the earth shall be blessed."*
Agreeably to this, it is said of the Messiah, Psal. lxxii. 11.
" That all nations shall serve him ;" and in ver. 17. " Men
shall be blessed in him, and all nations shall call him
blessed." And in Isa. ii. 2. it is said, that "all nations
shall flow unto the mountain of the house of the Lord."
And Jer. iii. 17. " That all nations shall be gathered unto
the name of the Lord to Jerusalem, and shall walk no
more after the imagination of their evil heart." " That all
flesh shall come and worship before the Lord," Isa. lxvi.
23. " And that all flesh should see tlie glory of God to
gether," Isa. xl. 5 . " And that all flesh should come to
nim that hears prayer," Psal. lxv. 2. Christ compares the
kingdom qf heaven in this world " to leaven, which a
woman took and hid in three measures of meal, till the
whole was leavened," Matt. xiii. 33.
It is natural and reasonable to suppose, that the whole
world should finally be given to Christ, as one whose
right it is to reign, as the proper heir of him who is origin
ally the King of all nations, and the possessor of heaven
and earth. And the Scripture teaches us, that God the
Father hath constituted his Son, as God-man, in his king
dom of grace, or mediatorial kingdom, to be the heir of
the world, that he might in this kingdom have " the
heathen for his inheritance, and the utmost ends of the
earth for his possession." Heb. i. 2. and ii. 8. Psal. ii. 6, 7,
8. Thus Abraham is said to be the heir ofthe world, not
in himself, but in his seed, which is Christ, Rom. iv. 13.
And how was this to be fulfilled to Abraham, but by
God's fulfilling that great promise, that " in his seed all
the nations of the earth should be blessed ?" For that
promise is what the apostle is speaking of : which shows,
that God has appointed Christ to be the heir of the world
in his kingdom of grace, and to possess and reign over all
nations, through the propagation of his gospel, and the
power of his Spirit communicating the blessings of it.
God hath appointed him to this universal dominion by a
most solemn oath ; Isa. xiv. 23. " I have sworn by myself,
the word is gone out of my mouth in righteousness, and
shall not return, That unto me every knee shall bow, and
every tongue shall swear." (Compared with Phil. ii. 10,
11.) Though the solemn oath of God the Father is to be
understood in so comprehensive a sense, as to extend to
what shall be accomplished at the day of judgment, yet it
is evident by the foregoing and following verses, that the
thing most directly intended, is what shall be fulfilled by
spreading the gospel of his salvation, and the power of the
Spirit of grace, bringing " all the ends of the earth to look
to him that they may be saved," and come to him for
" righteousness and strength, that in him they might be
justified, and might glory."
God has suffered many earthly princes to extend their
conquests over a great part of the face of the earth, and to
possess a dominion of vast extent, and one monarchy to
conquer and succeed another, the latter being still the
greater ; it is reasonable to suppose, that a much greater
glory in this respect should be reserved for Christ, God's
own Son and rightful heir, who has purchased the do
minion by so gi'eat and hard a service : it is reasonable to
suppose, that his dominion should be far the largest, and
his conquests vastly the greatest and most extensive. And
thus the Scriptures represent the matter, in Nebuchadnez
zar's vision, and the prophet's interpretation, Daniel ii.
There are four great monarchies of the earth, one succeed-
* Sec Gen, xii. 3. xviii. 18. xxii. 18. xxvi. 4. and xxviii. 1-1.

28,3

ing another, are represented by the great image of gold,
silver, brass, iron, and clay ; but at last a stone, cut out of
the mountain without hands, smites the image upon his
feet, which breaks the iron, clay, brass, silver and gold in
pieces, that all become as the chaff of the summer thresh
ing floors, and the wind carries them away, that no place
is found for them ; but the stone waxes great, becomes a
great mountain, andjitls the whole earth : signifying the
kingdom which the Lord God of heaven should set up in
the world, last of all, which should break in pieces and
consume all other kingdoms. Surely this representation
leads us to suppose, that this last kingdom shall be of much
greater extent than any ofthe preceding.
The like representation is made in the 7th chapter of
Daniel ; there the four monarchies are represented by four
great beasts that arose successively, one conquering and
subduing another ; the fourth and last of these is said to
be dreadful and terrible, and strong exceedingly, and to
have great iron teeth, and to devour and break in pieces,
and stamp the residue with his feet ; yea, it is said, ver.
23. that the kingdom represented by this beast shall de
vour the whole earth : but last of all, one like the Son of
man appears, coming to the Ancient of days, and being
brought near before him, and receiving of him a dominion,
and glory, and a kingdom, that alt people, nations, and
languages should serve him. This last circumstance, of
the vast extent and universality of his dominion, is mani
festly spoken of as one thing greatly distinguishing this
holy kingdom from all the preceding monarchies. Although
of one of the former it was said, that it should devour the
whole earth, yet we are naturally led, both by the much
greater emphasis and strength of the expressions, as well
as by the whole connexion and tenor of the prophecy,
to understand the universality here expressed in a much
more extensive and absolute sense. And the terms
used in the interpretation of this vision are such, that
scarcely any can be devised more strong, to signify an ab
solute universality of dominion over the inhabitants of the
face of the earth ; ver. 27. " And the kingdom and do
minion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole
heaven, shall be given to the people ofthe most high God."
Agreeably to this, the gospel is represented as " preached
unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation,
and tongue, and kindred, and people," Rev. xiv. 6.
The universal prevalence of true religion in the latter
days, is sometimes expressed by its reaching to the " ut
most ends of the earth," (Psal. ii. 8.) " To all the ends
of the earth, and of the world, (Psal. xxii. 27. lxvii. 7.
xcviii. 3. Isa. xiv. 22.) " All the ends of the earth, with
those that are far off upon the sea," (Psal. lxv. 5.) " From
the rising of the sun to the going down of the same," (Psal.
cxiii. 3. Mai. i. 11.) " The outgoing of the morning and
of the evening," (Psal. lxv. 8.) It seems that all the most
strong expressions, that were in use among the Jews to
signify the habitable world in its utmost extent, are used
to signify the extent of the church of God in the latter days.
And in many places, a variety of these expressions is used,
and there is an accumulation of them, expressed with
great force.
It would be unreasonable to say, these are only bold
figures, used after the manner of the eastern nations, to
express the great extent of the christian church, at and
after the days of Constantine. To say so, would be in
effect to say, that it would have been impossible for God,
if he had desired it, plainly to have foretold any thing that
should absolutely have extended to all nations of the
earth. I question whether it be possible to find out a
more strong expression, to signify an absolute universality
of the knowledge of the true religion through the habitable
world, than that in Isa. xi. 9. " The earth shall be full of
the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea."
Which is as much as to say, as there is no place in the vast
ocean where there is not water, so there shall be no part of
the world of mankind where there is not the knowledge of
the Lord ; as there is no part of the wide bed or cavity
possessed by the sea, but what is covered with water, so
there shall be no part of the habitable world that shall not
be covered by the light ofthe gospel, and possessed by the

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

286
true religion. Waters are often in prophecy put for nations
and multitudes of people. So the waters of the main
ocean seem sometimes to be put for the inhabitants of the
earth in general ; as in Ezekiel's vision of the waters of
the sanctuary, (Ezek. xlvii.) which flowed from the sanc
tuary, and ran east, till they came to the ocean, and were
at first a small stream, but continually increased till they
became a great river ; and when they came to the sea, the
water even of the vast ocean was healed, (ver. 8.) repre
senting the conversion of the world to the true religion in
the latter days.
It seems evident, that the time will come, when there
will not be one nation remaining in the world, which shall
not embrace the true religion, in that God has expressly
revealed, that no one such nation shall be left standing on
the earth; Isa. Ix. 12. " the nation and kingdom that will
not serve thee shall perish ; yea, those nations shall be
utterly wasted." — God has declared that heathen idolatry
and all the worship of false gods shall be wholly abolished,
in the most universal manner, so that it shall be continued
in no place under the heavens, or upon the face of the
earth ; Jer. x. 11. " The gods that have not made the
heavens and the earth, even they shall perish from the
earth, and from under these heavens." Ver. 15. " They
are vanity, and the work of errors, in the time of their
visitation they shall perish." This must be understood as
what shall be brought to pass while this earth and these
heavens remain, i. e. before the end of the world. Agree
able to this is Isa. liv. 1, 2. "Sing, O barren, thou that
didst not bear ; — for more are the children of the desolate
than the children of the married wife, saith the Lord. En
large the place of thy tent, and let them stretch forth the
curtains of thy habitation : spare not, lengthen thy cords,
strengthen thy slakes." Ver. 5. " For thy Maker is thy
husband ; the Lord of Hosts is his name ; and thy Re
deemer the Holy One of Israel ; The God qf the wliole
earth shall he be called."
The prophecies of the New Testament do no less evi
dently show, that a time will come when the gospel shall
universally prevail, and the kingdom of Christ be extended
over the whole habitable earth, in the most proper sense.
Christ says, (John xii. 32.) " I, if I be lifted up from the
earth, will draw all men unto me." It is fit, that when the
Son of God becomes man, he should have dominion over
all mankind. It is fit, that since he became an inhabitant of
the earth, and shed his blood on the earth, he should pos
sess the whole earth. It is fit, seeing here he became a ser-
vant.and was subject to men, and was arraigned before them,
and judged, condemned, and executed by them, and suffer
ed ignominy and death in a most public manner, before Jews
and Gentiles — being lifted up to view on the cross upon a
hill, near that populous city Jerusalem,at a most public time,
when there were many hundred thousand spectators, from
all parts — that should be rewarded with an universal do
minion over mankind ; and it is here declared he shall be.
The apostle, in the 11th of Romans, teaches us to look
on that great outpouring of the Spirit, and ingathering of
souls into Christ's kingdom, in those days, first of the
Jews and then of the Gentiles, to be but as the first-fruits
of the intended harvest, both with regard to Jews and Gen
tiles, as a sign that all should in due time be gathered in ;
ver. 16. " For if the first-fruit be holy, the lump is also
holy ; and if the root be holy, so are the branches." And
in that context, the apostle speaks of the fulness of both
Jews and Gentiles, as what shall hereafter be brought in,
distinctly from the ingathering from among both, in those
primitive ages of Christianity. In ver. 12. we read ofthe
fulness qf the Jews, and in the 25th, of the fulness qf the
Gentiles. And in ver. 30—32. the apostle teaches us to
look upon that infidelity and darkness, which first prevail
ed over all Gentile nations, before Christ came, and after
wards over the Jews, as what was wisely permitted for the
manifestation of the glory of God's mercy, in due time, on
the whole world, constituted of Jews and Gentiles. " God
hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might have
mercy upon all." These things plainly show, that the
time is coming when the whole world of mankind shall be
brought into the church of Christ ; the fulness of both, the
whole lump, all the nation of the Jews, and all the world of
Gentiles.

Part II.

In the last great conflict between the church of Christ
and her enemies, before the commencement of the glorious
time of the church's peace and rest, the kings ofthe earth,
and the whole world, are represented as gatliered to
gether, Rev. xvi. 14. And then the seventh angel pours
out his vial into the air, which limits the kingdom of Satan,
as god of this world ; and that kingdom is represented as
utterly overthrown, ver. 17, &c. In another description of
that great battle, (chap, xix.) Christ is represented as riding
forth, having on his head many crowns, and on his vesture
and on his thigh a name written, King of kings and
Lord of lords. Which we may well suppose signifies,
that he is now going to that conquest, whereby he shall
set up a kingdom, in which he shall be King of kings, in
a far more extensive manner than either Babylonish, Per
sian, Grecian, or Roman monarchs were. And in ver. 17,
and following, an angel appears standing in the sun, that
overlooks the whole world, calling on " all the fowls that
fly in the midst of heaven, to come and eat the flesh of
kings," &c. And in consequence of the great victory
Christ gains at that time, " an angel comes down from
heaven, having the key of the bottomless pit, and a great
chain in his hand, and lays hold on the devil, and binds
him, and casts him into the bottomless pit, and shuts him
up, and sets a seal upon him, that he should deceive the
nations no more." Satan being dispossessed of that high
est monarchy on earth, the Roman empire, and cast out in
the time of Constantine is represented (chap, xii.) by his
being cast down from heaven to the earth, but now there is
something far beyond that ; he is cast out qf the earth,
and is shut up in hell, and confined to that alone, so that
he has no place left him in this world of mankind, high
or low.
Now will any be so unreasonable as to say, that all these
things do not signify more than that one third part of the
world should be brought into the church of Christ; be
yond which it cannot be pretended that the christian reli
gion has ever yet reached, in its greatest extent ? Those
countries which belonged to the Roman empire, that were
brought to the profession of Christianity after the reign of
Constantine, are but a small part of what the habitable
world now is. As to extent of ground, they altogether
bear, I suppose, no greater proportion to it, than the land
of Canaan did to the Roman empire. And our Redeemer
in his kingdom of grace has hitherto possessed but a little
part of the world, in its most flourishing state, since arts
are arisen to their greatest height ; and a very great part of
the world is but lately discovered, and much remains un
discovered to this day. These things make it very evident,
that the main fulfilment of those prophecies, that speak of
the glorious advancement of Christ's kingdom on earth, is
still to come.
And as there has been nothing as yet, with regard to the
flourishing of religion, and the advancement of Christ's
kingdom, of such extent as to answer the prophecies, so
neither has there been any thing of that duration that is
foretold. The prophecies speak of Jerusalem being made
the joy qf the whole earth, and also the joy qf many gene
rations. (Psal. xlviii. 2. Isa. Ix. 15.) That " God's people
should long enjoy the work of their hands," (Isa. lxv. 22.)
That they should " reign with Christ a thousand years, '
(Rev. xx.) by which we must at least understand a very
long time. But it would be endless to mention all the
places, which signify that the time of the church's great
peace and prosperity should be of long continuance. Al
most all the prophecies, that speak of her latter-day glory,
imply it ; and it is implied in very many of them, that
when once this day of the church's advancement and peace
is begun, it shall never end till the world ends ; or, at least,
that there shall be no more a return of her troubles and
adversity for any considerable continuance. Then " the
days of her mourning shall be ended ;" her tribulations
" be as the waters of Noah unto God, that as he has sworn
that the waters of Noah should no more pass over the
earth, so he will swear that he will no more oe wroth with
his people, or rebuke them." It is implied that " God's
people should no more walk after the imagination of their
evil hearts ; that God would hide himself no more from
the house of Israel ; because he has poured out his Spirit
upon them; that their sun should no more go down, nor

Sect. II.

THE LATTER-DAY GLORY UNSPEAKABLY GREAT.

287

the moon withdraw itself; that the light should not be
clear and dark," (i. e. there should be no more an inter
change of light and darkness, as used to be,) but that it
should be all one continued day ; not day and night (for so
the words are in the original in Zech. xiv. 7.) alternately,
" but it shall come to pass, that at evening time (i. e. at
the time that night and darkness used to be) it shall be
light; and that the nations should beat their swords into
plow-shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks, and that
nation should not lift up sword against nation, nor learn
war any more ; but that there should be abundance of peace
so long as the moon endureth."
But the church of Christ has never yet enjoyed a state of
peace and prosperity for any long time ; on the contrary,
the time for her rest, and of the flourishing state of religion,
have ever been very short. Hitherto the church may say,
(as in Isa. lxiii. 17, 18.) "Return, for thy servants' sake,
the tribes of thine inheritance ; the people of thy holiness
have possessed it but a little while. The quietness that
the church of God enjoyed after the beginning of Constan
tine's reign, was very' short. The peace the empire enjoy
ed, in freedom from war, was not more than twenty years ;
no longer nor greater than it had enjoyed under some of
the heathen emperors. After this the empire was rent in
pieces by intestine wars, and wasted almost every where
by the invasions and" incursions of barbarous nations; and
the christian world, soon after, was all in contention and
confusion, by heresies and divisions in matters of religion.
And the church of Christ has never as yet been, for any
long time, free from persecution; especially when truth
lias prevailed, and true religion flourished. It is manifest,
that hitherto the people of God have been kept under, and
Zion has been in a low afflicted state, and her enemies
have had the chief sway.
Another thing which makes it exceedingly manifest, that
the day of the church's greatest advancement on earth,
which is foretold in Scripture, has never yet come, is, that
it is so plainly and expressly revealed, this day shall suc
ceed the last of the four monarchies, even the Roman, in
its last state, wherein it is divided into ten kingdoms, and
after the destruction of antichrist, signified by the little
horn, whose reign is contemporary with the reign of the
ten kings. These things are very plain in the 2d and 7th
chapters of Daniel, and also in the 'Revelation qf St. John.
And it is also plain by the 9th chapter of Romans, that it
shall be after the national conversion of the Jews, which
shall be as life from the dead to the Gentiles, and the ful
ness of both Jews and Gentiles shall be come in, all the
nation of the Jews, and all other nations, shall obtain mercy,
and there shall be that general ingathering of the harvest
of the whole earth, of which all that had been converted
before, either of Jews or Gentiles, were but the first fruits.
Thus it is meet, that the last kingdom which shal! take
place on earth, should be the kingdom of God's own Son
and heir, whose right it is to rule and reign ; and that
whatever revolutions and confusions there may be in the
world, for a long time, the cause of truth, the righteous
cause, shall finally prevail, and God's holy people should
at last inherit the earth, and reign on earth ; and that the
world should continue in tumults and great revolutions,
following one another, from age to age, the world being as
it were in travail, till truth and holiness are brought forth.
It is meet, that ail things should be shaken, till that comes
which is true and right, and agreeable to the mind of God,
which cannot be shaken ; and that the wisdom of the Ruler
of the world should be manifested in bringing all things
ultimately to so good an issue. The world is made for
the Son of God; his kingdom is the end of all changes,
that come to pass in the state of the world. All are only
to prepare the way for this ; it is tit, therefore, that the
last kingdom on earth should be his. It is wisely and
mercifully ordered of God, that it should be so, on this
account, as well as many others, vis. That the church of
God, under all preceding changes, should have this con
sideration to encourage her, and maintain her hope, and
animate her faith and prayers, from generation to genera
tion, that God has promised, her cause should finally be
maintained and prevail in the world.

SECT. II.
The latter-day glory unspeakably great.
The future promised advancement of the kingdom of
Christ is an event unspeakably happy and glorious. The
Scriptures speak of it as a time wherein God and his Son
Jesus Christ will be most eminently glorified on earth ; a
time, wherein God, who till then had dwelt between the
cherubims — and concealed himself in the holy of holies, in
the secret of his tabernacle, behind the veil, in the thick
darkness — should openly shine forth, and all flesh should
see his glory, and God's people in general have as great a
Srivilege as the High Priest alone had once a year, or as
loses had in the mount. A time this, wherein the " tem
ple of God in heaven should be opened, and there should
be seen the ark of his testament;" (Rev. xi. 19.) a time,
wherein both God will be greatly glorified, and his saints
made unspeakably happy in the view of his glory ; a time,
wherein God's people should not only once see the light of
God's glory, as Moses, or see it once a year with the high
priest, but should dwell and walk continually in it, and it
should be their constant daily light, instead of the light of
the sun; (Isa. ii. 5. Psal. lxxxix. 15. Isa. Ix. 19.) which
light should be so much more glorious than the light of
the sun or moon, that " the moon shall be confounded,
and the sun ashamed, when the Lord of hosts should reign
in mount Zion, and in Jerusalem, before his ancients glo
riously ;" (Isa. xxiv. 23.)
It is represented as a time of vast increase of knowledge-
arid understanding, especially in divine things ; a time
wherein God would " destroy the face of the covering cast
over all people, and the veil spread over all nations ;" (Isa.
xxv. 7.) wherein " the light of the moon shall be as the
iight of the sun, and the light of the sun seven-fold, (Isa.
xxx. 26.) " And the eyes of them that see shall not be
dim, and the heart of the rash shall understand know
ledge," (Isa. xxxii. 3, 4.) " And they shall no more teach
every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, say
ing, Know the Lord, because they shall all know him from
the least to the greatest, 'Jer. xxxi. 24.) It is declared lo
be a time of general holiness, (Isa. Ix. 30.) " Thy people
shall be all righteous." A time of prevailing eminent holi
ness, when little children shall, in spiritual attainments, be
as though they were a hundred years old, (Isa. lxv. 20.)
wherein " he that is feeble among God's people shall be
as David," (Zech. xii. 8.) A time wherein holiness should
be as it were inscribed on every thing, on all men's com
mon business and employments, and the common utensils
of life, all shah be dedicated to God, and improved to holy
purposes. (Isa. xxiii. 18.) " Her merchandise and hire
shall be holiness to the Lord." (Zech. xiv. 20, 21.) " In
that day shall there be upon the bells of the horses, holi
ness unto the Lord; and the pots in the Lord's house shall
be like the bowls before the altar ; yea, every pot in Jeru
salem and in Judah shall be holiness unto the Lord of
hosts." A time shall come wherein religion and true Christianity
shall in every respect be uppermost in the world ; wherein
God will cause his church to " arise and shake herself
from the dust, and put on her beautiful garments, and sit
down on a throne ; and the poor shall be raised from the
dust, and the beggar from the dunghill, and shall be set
among princes, and made to inherit the throne of God's
glory ;"— a time wherein vital piety shall take possession
of thrones and palaces, and those that are in most exalted
stations shall be eminent in holiness, (Isa. xlix. 23.) " And
kings shall be thy nursing fathers, and their queens thy
nursing mothers. (Chap. Ix. 16.) " Thou shalt suck the
breasts of kings." (Isa. xiv. 12.) " The daughter of Tyre
shall be there with a gift, the rich among the people shall
entreat thy favour." — A time of wonderful union, and the
most universal peace, love, and sweet harmony ; wherein
the nations shall " beat their swords into plow-shares,"
&c. and God will " cause wars to cease to the ends of the
earth, and break the bow, and cut the spear in sunder, and
burn the chariot in the fire ; and the mountains shall bring
forth peace to God's people, and the little hills by right
eousness; wherein the wolf shall dwell with the lamb,
&c. and wherein God's people shall dwell in a peaceable

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Part II.

habitation, and in sure dwellings, and quiet resting
places ;" (fsa. xxxii. 17, 18. and xxxiii. 20, 21.)
A time shall come wherein all heresies and false doc
trines shall be exploded, and the church of God shall not
be rent with a variety of jarring opinions, (Zech. xiv. 9.)
" The Lord shall be king over all the earth : in that day
there shall be one Lord, and his name one." All super
stitious ways of worship shall be abolished, and all agree
in worshipping God in his own appointed way, and agree
ably to the purity of his institutions; (Jer. xxxii. 39.) " I
will give them one heart and one way, that they may fear
me for ever, for the good of them and their children after
them." A time wherein the whole earth shall be united
as one holy city, one heavenly family, men of all nations
shall as it were dwell together, and sweetly correspond one
with another, as brethren and children of the same father;
as the prophecies often speak of God's people at that time
as the children of God, and brethren one to another, all
" appointing over them one head," gathered to one " house
of God, to worship the King, the Lord of hosts."
A time approaches wherein this whole great society shall
appear in glorious beauty, in genuine amiable Christianity
and excellent order, as " a city compact together, the per
fection of beauty, an eternal excellency," shining wish a
reflection of the glory of Jehovah risen upon it, which shall
be attractive and ravishing to all kings and nations, and it
shall appear " as a bride adorned for her husband." — A time
of great temporal prosperity; of great health ; (Isa. xxxiii.
24.) " The inhabitant shall not say, I am sick" of long life ;
(Isa. Iv. 22.) "As the days of a tree, are the days of my
people." A time wherein the earth shall be abundantly
fruitful; (Psal. Ixvii. Isa. vi. 23, 24. Amos ix. 16. and
many other places.) A time wherein the world shall be
delivered from that multitude of sore calamities which
before had prevailed, (Ezek. xlvii. 20.) and there shall be
an universal blessing of God upon mankind, in soul and
body, and in all their concerns, and all manner of tokens
of God's presence and favour, and " God shall rejoice over
them, as the bridegroom rejoiceth over his bride, and the
mountains shall as it were drop down new wine, and the
hills shall flow with milk ;" (Joel iii. 18.)
A time of great and universal joy, we are taught to ex
pect, will take place through all the earth, when "from the
utmost ends of the earth shall be heard songs, even glory
to the righteous," and God's people "shail with joy draw
water out of the wells of salvation." God shall "prepare
in his holy mountain a feast of fat things, a feast of wines
on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the
lees well refined," which feast is represented, Rev. xix. as
the marriage supper qf the Lamb. Yea, the Scriptures
represent it not only as a time of universal joy on earth,
but extraordinary joy in heaven, among the angels and
saints, the holy apostles and prophets there ; (Rev. xviii.
20. and xix. 1 — 9.) Yea, the Scriptures represent it as a
time of extraordinary rejoicing with Christ himself, the
glorious head, in whom all things in heaven and earth
shall then be gathered together in one ; (Zech. iii. 17.)
"The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty ; he
will save ; he will rejoice over thee with joy ; he will rest
in his love ; he will joy over thee with singing." And the
very fields, trees, and mountains shall then as it were re
joice, and break forth into singing ; (Isa. Iv. 12.) " Ye shall
go out with joy, and be led forth with peace ; the moun
tains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." (Isa.
xliv. 23.) "Sing, O heavens, for the Lord hath done it;
shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into sing
ing, ve mountains ; O forest, and every tree therein : for
the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in
Israel." Such being the state of things in this future promised
glorious day of the church's prosperity, surely it is worth
praying for. Nor is there any one thing whatsoever, if we
viewed things aright, for which a regard to the glory of
God, a concern for the kingdom and honour of our Re
deemer, a love to his people, pity to perishing sinners —
love to our fellow-creatures in general, compassion to
mankind under their various and sore calamities and
» Luke xxiv 49. Acts i. 4. and ii. 33, 39. Gal. iii. 14 Eph. i. 13. and

miseries, a desire of their temporal and spiritual pros
perity, love to our country, our neighbours, and friends,
yea, and to our own souls — would dispose us to be so
much in prayer, as for the dawning of this happy day,
and the accomplishment of this glorious event.

SECT. III.
How much Christ prayed and laboured and suffered, in order
to the glory and happiness qf thai day.
The sum of the blessings Christ sought, by what he
did and suffered in the work of redemption, was the
Holy Spirit. Thus is the affair of our redemption con
stituted ; the lather provides and gives the Redeemer, and
the price of redemption is offered to him, and he grants
the benefit purchased ; the Son is the Redeemer who gives
the price, and also is the price offered ; and the Holy
Spirit is the grand blessing obtained by the price offered,
and bestowed on the redeemed. The Holy Spirit, in his
indwelling presence, his influences and fruits', is tlie sum of
all grace, holiness, comfort, and joy ; or, in one word, of
all the spiritual good Christ purchased for men in this
world : and is also the sum of all perfection, glory, and
eternal joy, that he purchased for them in another world.
The Holy Spirit is the subject matter of the promises, hoth
of the eternal covenant of redemption, and also of the
covenant of grace. This is the grand subject of the pro
mises of the Old Testament, so often recorded in the
prophecies of Messiah's kingdom ; and the chief subject
of the promises of the New Testament ; and particularly
of the covenant of grace delivered by Jesus Christ to his
disciples, as his last will and testament, in the 14th, 15th,
and 16th chapters of John ; the grand legacy that he be
queathed to them, in his last and dying discourse with
them. Therefore the Holy Spirit is so often called the
Spirit of promise, and emphatically, the promise, the promise
of the. Father, &c*
This being the great blessing Christ purchased by his
labours and sufferings on earth, it was that which he re
ceived of the Father when he ascended into heaven, and
entered into the holy of holies with his own blood, that he
might communicate it to those whom he had redeemed.
John xvi. 7. " It is expedient for you, that I go away ; for
if I go not away, the Comforter will not come ; but if I
depart, I will send him unto you." Acts ii. 33. " Being
by the right hand of God exalted, and having received of
the Father the promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed
forth this which ye now see and hear." — This is the sum
of those gifts, which Christ received for men, even for the
rebellious, at his ascension ; and of the benefits Christ ob
tains for men by his intercession; John xiv. 16, 17. "j
will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Com
forter, that he may abide with you for ever ; even the
Spirit of truth." Herein consists Christ's communicative
fulness, even in his being full of the Spirit ; and so full of
grace and truth, that we might of this fulness receive, and
grace for grace. He is anointed with the Holy Ghost, and
this is the ointment that goes down from the head to the
members. " God gives the Spirit not by measure unto him,
that every member might receive according to the measure
of the gift of Christ." This therefore was the great bless
ing he prayed for in that wonderful prayer which he
uttered for his disciples and all his future church, the
evening before he died, John xvii. Tlie blessing he prayed
for to the Father, in behalf of his disciples, was the same
he had insisted on in his preceding discourse with them ;
and this, doubtless, was the blessing ho prayed for, when,
as our High Priest, he offered up strong crying and tears,
with his blood, Heb. v. 6, 7. As for this he shed his
blood, for this he also shed tears, and poured out prayers.
But of all the time we have been speaking of, this is the
chief season for the bestowment of this blessing ; the
main season of success to all that Christ did and suffered
in the work of our redemption. Before this, the Spirit of
God is given but very sparingly, and but few are saved ;
but then it will be far otherwise ; wickedness shall be rare

Sect. IV.

THE WHOLE CREATION TRAVAILS IN PAIN.

289

then, as virtue and piety had been before : and undoubt
edly, by far the greatest number of them that ever receive
the benefits of Christ's redemption, from the beginning
of the world to the end of it, will receive it in that time.*
This time is represented in Scripture, as the proper ap
pointed season of Christ's salvation ; eminently the elect
season, the accepted time, and day of salvation.f " The
year of Christ's redeemed," Isa. lxiii. 4.— This period is
spoken of as the proper time of the Redeemer's dominion,
and the reign of his redeeming love, in the 2d and 7th
chapters of Daniel, and many other places; the proper
time of his harvest, or ingathering of his fruits from this
fallen world ; the appointed day of his triumph over Satan,
the great destroyer ; and the appointed day of his marriage
with his elect spouse, (Rev. xix. 7.) The time given to
the Sun qf righteousness to rule, as the day is the time God
has appointed for the natural sun to bear rule. Therefore
the bringing on of this time is called " Christ's coming in
his kingdom ;" wherein " he will rend the heavens and
come down, and the Sun of righteousness shall arise,"
(Mai. iv. 2. and Isa. Ix. 1.)
The comparatively little saving good tliere is in the
world, as the fruit of Christ's redemption, before that time,
is as it were granted by way of anticipation ; as we antici
pate something of the sun s light by reflection before the
proper time of the sun's rule ; and as the first-fruits are
gathered before the harvest. Then more especially will be
the fulfilment of those great promises, made by God the
Father to the Son, for his pouring out his soul unto death ;
(Isa. liii. 10 — 12.) then " shall he see his seed, and the
pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand ;" then
" shall he see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied,
and shall justify many by his knowledge ;" then " will
God divide him a portion with the great, and he shall
divide the spoil with the strong ;" then shall Christ in an
eminent manner obtain his chosen spouse, that " he loved
and died for, that he might sanctify and cleanse her, with
the washing of water, by the word, and present her to him
self, a glorious church." He will obtain " the joy that
was set before him, for which he endured the cross, and
despised the shame," chiefly in the events and conse
quences of that day : that day, as was observed before,
which is often represented as eminently the time of the
" rejoicing of the bridegroom." The foreknowledge and
consideration of it was what supported him, and that in
which his soul exulted, at a time when it had been troubled
at the view of his approaching sufferings ; as may be seen
in John xii. 23, 24, 27, 31, 32.
Now therefore, if this is what Jesus Christ, our great
Redeemer and the head of the church, did so much desire,
and set his heart upon, from all eternity, and for which he
did and suffered so much, offering up strong crying and
tears, and his precious blood, to obtain it ; surely his dis
ciples and members should also earnestly seek it, and be
much in prayer for it.

SECT. IV.
The whole creation travails in pain.
The whole creation is, as it were, earnestly waiting for
that day, and constantly groaning and travailing in pain to
bring forth the felicity and glory of it. For that day is
above all other times, excepting the day of judgment, the
day of the manifestation of the sons qf God, and of their
glorious liberty ': and therefore, that elegant representation
the apostle makes of the earnest expectation and travail of
* The number of tbe inhabitants of the earth will doubtless then be
vastly multiplied ; and the number of redeemed ones much more. — If we
should suppose that glorious day to last no more than literally a thousand
years, and that at the beginning of that thousand years the world of man
kind should be but just as numerous as it is now, and that the number
should be doubled, during that time of great health and peace and the
universal blessing of heaven, once only in a hundred years, the number
at the end of a thousand years would bo more than a thousand times
greater than it is now ; and if it should be doubled once in fifty years,
(which probably the number of the inhabitants of New England has ordi
narily been, in about Any that time,) then at the end of the thousand years,
there would be more than a milium inhabitants on the face of the earth,
where there is one now. And there is reason to think that through the
greater part of this period, at least, the number of saints will, in their in
crease, bear a proportion to the increase of the number of inhabitants. And
It must be considered, that if the number of mankind at the beginning of
this period be no more than equal to the present number, yet we may
VOL. II. V

the creation, in Rom. viii. 19 — 22. is applicable to the
glorious event of this day ; " the earnest expectation of
the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of
God. For the creature was made subject to vanity, not
willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the
same in hope. Because the creature itself also shall be
delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious
liberty of the children of God. For we know that the
whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together
until now." The visible world has now for many ages
been subject to sin, and made, as it were, a servant to it,
through the abuse that man, who has the dominion over
the creatures, puts the creatures to. Thus the sun is a sort
of servant to all manner of wickedness, as its light, and
other beneficial influences, are abused by men, and made
subservient to their lusts and sinful purposes. So of the
rain, the fruits of the earth, the brute animals, and all
other parts of the visible creation ; they all serve men's
corruption, and obey their sinful will. And God doth, in
a sort, subject them to it ; for he continues his influence
and power to make them obedient, according to the same
law of nature, whereby they yield to men's command
when used to good purposes.
It is by the immediate influence of God upon things
according to those constant methods which we call the
laws of nature, that they are ever obedient to man's will,
or that we can use them at all. This influence God con
tinues in order to make them obedient to man's will, though
wicked. This is a sure sign, that the present state of
things is not lasting : it is confusion ; and God would not
suffer it to be, but that he designs in a little time to put an
end to it. Seeing it is to be but a little while, God
chooses rather to subject the creature to man's wickedness,
than to disturb and interrupt the course of nature accord
ing to its stated laws : but it is, as it were, a force upon
the creature ; for the creature is abused in it, perverted to
far meaner purposes, than those for which the author of its
nature made and adapted it. The creature therefore is
unwillingly subject ; and but for a short time ; and, as it
were, hopes for an alteration. It is a bondage which the
creature is subject to, from which it was partly delivered
when Christ came, and when the gospel was promulgated
in the world ; and will be more fully delivered at the com
mencement of the glorious day we are speaking of, and
perfectly at the day of judgment. — This agrees with the
context ; for the apostle was speaking of the present suf
fering state of the church. The reason why the church in
this world is in a suffering state, is, that the world is sub
ject to the sin and corruption of mankind. By vanity and
corruption in Scripture, is very commonly meant sin, or
wickedness ; as might be shown in very many places,
would my intended brevity allow.
Though the creature is thus subject to vanity, yet does
not it rest in this subjection, but is constantly acting and
exerting itself, in order to that glorious liberty that God
has appointed at the time we are speaking of, and, as it
were, reaching forth towards it. All the changes brought
to pass in the world, from age to age, are ordered by infinite
wisdom, in one respect or. other to prepare the way for that
glorious issue of things, when truth and righteousness shall
finally prevail, and he, whose right it is, shall take the
kingdom. All the creatures, in all their operations and
motions, continually tend to this. As in a clock, all the
motions of the whole system of wheels and movements,
tend to the striking of the hammer at the appointed time.
All the revolutions and restless motions of the sun and
Other heavenly bodies, from day to day, from year to year,
and from age to age, are continually tending thither ; as
doubtless conclude, that the number of true saints will be immensely
greater ; when instead of the few true and thorough Christians now in some
few countries, every nation on the face of the whole earth shall be converted
to Christianity, and every country shall be full of true Christians ; so that
the successive multiplication of true saints through the thousand years, will
begin with that vast advantage, beyond the multiplication of mankind :
where the latter is begun from units, the other doubtless will begin with
hundreds, if not thousands. How much greater then will be the number
of true converts, that will be brought to a participation of the benefits of
Christ's redemption, during that period, than in all other times put toge
ther ! 'I think, the foregoing things considered, we shall be very moderate in
our conjectu res, if we say, it is probable that there will be a hundred thou
sand times more, that will actually be redeemed to God by Christ's blood,
during that period of the church's prosperity, than ever had been before,
from the beginning of the world to that time.
t Isa. xlix! 8. and so on to ver. 23. and chap. lxi. 2. taken with the context.
in that and the preceding and following chapters.

290

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part II.

all the many turnings of the wheels of a chariot, m a
journey, tend to the appointed journey's end. The mighty
struggles and conflicts of nations, those vast successive
changes which are brought to pass in the kingdoms and
empires of the world, from one age to another, are, as it
were, travail-pangs of the creation, in order to bring forth
this glorious event. And the Scriptures represent the last
struggles and changes that shall immediately precede this
event, as being the greatest of all ; as the last pangs of a
woman in travail are the most violent.
The creature thus earnestly expecting this glorious
manifestation and liberty of the children of God, and
travailing in pain in order to it, the Scriptures, by a like
figure, very often show, that when this shall be accom
plished, the whole inanimate creation shall greatly rejoice :
" That the heavens shall sing, the earth be glad, the moun
tains break forth into singing, the hills be joyful together,
the trees clap their hands, the lower parts of the earth
shout, the sea roar and the fulness thereof, and the floods
clap their hands."*
All the intelligent elect creation, all God's holy creatures
in heaven and earth, are truly and properly waiting for,
and earnestly expecting, that event. It is abundantly re
presented in Scripture as the spirit and character of all
true saints, that they set their hearts upon, love, long, wait,
and pray for the promised glory of that day ; they are
spoken of as those that ''prefer Jerusalem to their chief
joy," (Ps. cxxxvii. 6.) " That take pleasure in the stones
of Zion, and favour the dust thereof," (Ps. cii. 13, 14.)
" That wait for the consolation of Israel," (Luke ii. 25.
and ver. 38.) It is the language of the church of God,
and the breathing of every true saint, (Ps. xiv. 7.) " O that
the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion ! When the
Lord bringeth back the captivity of his people, Jacob shall
rejoice, and Israel shall be glad." And Cant. ii. 17.
" Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn,
my beloved, and be thou like a roe, or a young hart upon
the mountains of Bether." And chap. viii. 14. " Make
haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe, or to a
young hart upon the mountains of spices." Agreeable to
this was the spirit of old Jacob, which he expressed when
he was dying, exercising faith in the great promise made
to him, and Isaac, and Abraham, that " in their seed all
the families of the earth should be blessed," Gen. xlix. 1 8.
" I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord." The same is
represented as the spirit of his true children, or the family
of Jacob, Isa. viii. 17. " I will wait upon the Lord, that
hideth himself from the house of Jacob, and I will look
for him." — " They that love Christ's appearing," is a name
that the apostle gives to true Christians, 2 Tim. iv. 8.
The glorious inhabitants of the heavenly world — the
saints and angels there, who rejoice when one sinner repents
— are earnestly waiting, in an assured and joyful depend
ence on God's promises of that conversion of the world
and marriage of the Lamb, which shall take place when
that glorious day comes : and therefore they are represented
as all with one accord rejoicing, and praising God with
such mighty exultation and triumph, when it is accom
plished, Rev. xix.

SECT. V.
Precepts, encouragements, and examples.
Th e word of God is full of precepts, encouragements, and
examples, tending to excite and induce the people of God
to be much in prayer for this mercy. The Spirit of God is
the chief of blessings, for it is the sum of all spiritual
blessings ; which we need infinitely more than others, and
wherein our true and eternal happiness consists. That
which is the sum of the blessings Christ purchased, is the
sum of the blessings Christians have to pray for ; but that,
as was observed before, is the Holy Spirit. Therefore,
when the disciples came to Christ, desiring him to teach
them to pray, (Luke xi.) and he accordingly gave them
particular directions for the performance of this duty ; he
adds, ver. 13. " If ye then, being evil, know how to give
* Se* Isa. xliv. 23. xlix. 13. Psal. lxix. 34. 35. xcvi. 11. 12. and xcviii. 7, 8.
t In this passage the prophet doubtless has respect to the same glorious

good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your
heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that' ask
him ? " From which words of Christ, we may also ob
serve, that there is no blessing we have so great encou
ragement to pray for, as the Spirit of God. The words
imply, that our heavenly Father is especially ready to be
stow his Holy Spirit on them that ask him. The more ex
cellent the nature of any benefit is, which we stand in
need of, the more ready God is to bestow it, in answer to
prayer. The infinite goodness of God's nature is the more
gratified, the grand design of our redemption is the better
answered, Jesus Christ, the Redeemer, has the greater suc
cess in his undertaking and labours ; and those desires
which are expressed in prayer for the most excellent bless
ings, are the most excellent desires, and consequently
such as God most approves of, and is most ready to gratify.
The Scriptures do not only direct and encourage us, in
general, to pray for the Holy Spirit above all things else ;
but it is the expressly revealed will of God, that his
church should be very much in prayer for that glorious
outpouring of the Spirit, which is to be in the latter days,
and for what shall be accomplished by it. God, speaking
of that blessed event, Ezek. xxxvi. under the figure of
" cleansing the house of Israel from all their iniquities,
planting and building their waste and ruined places, and
making them to become like the garden of Eden, and filling
them with men like a flock, like the holy flock, the flock
of Jerusalem in her solemn feasts,"f he says, ver. 37.
" Thus saith the Lord, I will yet for this be inquired of
by the house of Israel, to do it for them." Which doubt
less implies it is the will of God, that extraordinary pray
erfulness in his people for this mercy should precede the
bestowment of it.
I know of no place in the Bible, where so strange an
expression is made use of to signify importunity in prayer,
as is used in Isa. lxii. 6, 7. where the people of God are
called upon to be importunate for this mercy : " Ye that
make mention of the Lord, keep not silence, and give him
no rest, till he establish and till he make Jerusalem a
praise in the earth." How strong is the phrase ! And how
loud is this call to the church of God, to be fervent and
incessant in their cries to him for this great mercy ! How
wonderful the words used, concerning the manner in which
such worms of the dust should address the high and lofty
One that inhabits eternity ! And what encouragement is
here, to approach the mercy-seat with the greatest freedom,
humble boldness, earnestness, constancy, and full assurance
of faith, to seek of God this greatest favour that can be
sought in christian prayer !
It is a just observation of a certain eminent minister of
the church of Scotland, in a discourse lately published on
social prayer, in which, speaking of pleading for the suc
cess of the gospel, as required by the Lord's prayer, he
says, " That notwithstanding of its being so compendious,
yet the one half of it, that is, three petitions in six, and
these the first prescribed, do all relate to this great case : —
so that to put any one of these petitions apart, or all of
them together, is upon the matter, to pray that the dispen
sation of the gospel may be blessed with divine power."
That glorious day is the proper and appointed .time, above
all others, for bringing to pass the things requested in each
of these petitions. The prophecies every where represent
that as .the time, which God has especially appointed for
glorifying his own great name in this world, causing " his
glory to be revealed, that all flesh may see it together,"
causing it " openly to be manifested in the sight of the
heathen," filling the whole world with the light of his
glory to such a degree, that " the moon shall be confounded
and the sun ashamed" before that brighter giory ; the ap
pointed time for glorifying and magnifying the name of
Jesus Christ, causing " every knee to bow and every
tongue to confess to him." This is the proper time of God's
kingdom coming, or of Christ coming m his kingdom : that
is, the very time foretold in the 2d of Daniel, when the
Lord God qf heaven shall set up a kingdom, in the latter
times of the last monarchy, when it is divided into ten
kingdoms. And that is the very time foretold in the 7th of Daniel,
restoration and advancement of his church that is spoken of in the next
chapter, and in all the following chapters to the end of the book.

Sect. V.

PRECEPTS, ENCOURAGEMENTS, AND EXAMPLES.

291

when there should be " given to one like the Son of man,
dominion, glory, anda kingdom, thatall people, nations and
languages should serve them ; and the kingdom and do
minion, and the greatness of the kingdom, under the whole
heaven, shall be given to the people of the saints of tlie
most high God," after the destruction of the little horn,
that should continue for a time, times, and the dividing of
time. And that is the time wherein " God's will shall be
done on earth, as it is done in heaven ;" when heaven shall,
as it were, be bowed, and come down to the earth, as " God's
people shall be all righteous, and holiness to the Lord
shall be written on the bells of the horses," &c. So lhat
the three first petitions of the Lord's prayer are, in effect,
no other than requests for bringing on this glorious day. —
And as the Lord's prayer begins with asking for this, in
the three first petitions, so it concludes with it in .these
words, " For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the
glory, for ever. Amen." Which words imply a request,
that God would take to himself his great power, and reign,
and manifest his power and glory in the world. Thus
Christ teaches us, that it becomes his disciples to seek this
above all other things, and make it the first and the last in
their prayers, and that every petition should be put up in
subordination to the advancement of God's kingdom and
glory in the world.
Besides what has been observed of the Lord's prayer, if
we look through the whole Bible, and observe all the ex
amples of prayer that we find there recorded, we shall not
find so many prayers for any other mercy, as for the deliv
erance, restoration, and prosperity of the church, and the
advancement of God's glory and kingdom qf grace in the
world. If we well consider the prayers recorded in the
book of Psalms, I believe we shall see reason to think, that
a very great, if not the greater, part of them, are prayers
uttered, either in the name of Christ, or in the name of the
church, for such a mercy : and, undoubtedly, the greatest
part of the book of Psalms is made up of prayers for
this mercy, prophecies of it, and prophetical praises
for it.*
In order to Christ being mystically born, in the advance
ment of true religion, and the great increase of true con
verts, who are spoken of as having Christ formed in them,
the Scriptures represent it as requisite, that the church
should first be " in travail, crying in pain to be delivered;"
Rev. xii. 1,2, 5. And we have good reason to understand
by it her exercising strong desires, wrestling and agonizing
with God in prayer, for this event ; because we find such
figures of speech used in this sense elsewhere : so Gal. iv.
19. " My little children, of whom I travail in birth again,
until Christ be formed in you." — Isa. xxvi. 16, 17. " Lord,
in trouble have they visited thee ; they poured out a prayer
when thy chastening was upon them. Like as a woman
with child, that draweth near the time of her delivery, is in
pain, and crieth out in her pangs, so have we been in thy
sight, O Lord." And certainly it is fit, that the church of
God should be in travail for that, for which the whole
creation travails in pain.
The Scripture does not only abundantly manifest it to
be the duty of God's people to be much in prayer for this
great mercy, but it also abounds with manifold consider
ations to encourage them in it, and animate them with hopes
of success. There is perhaps no one thing that the Bible so
much promises, in order to encourage the faith, hope, and
prayers of the saints, as this ; which affords to God's people
the clearest evidences that it is their duty to be much in
prayer for this mercy. For, undoubtedly, that which God
abundantly makes the subject of his promises, God's people
should abundantly make the subject of their prayers. It
also affords them the strongest assurances that their prayers
shall be successful. With what confidence may we go be
fore God, and pray for that, of which we have so many
exceeding precious and glorious promises to plead ! The
very first promise of God to fallen man, (Gen. iii. 15.) It
shall bruise thy head, is to have its chief fulfilment at that
day. And the whole Bible concludes with a promise ofthe
glory of that day, and a prayer for its fulfilment. Rev. xxii.
* The prophets," in their prophecies of the restoration and advancement
of the church, very often speak of it as what shall be done in answer to the
prayers of God's people. Isa. xxv. 9. — xxvi. 9, 12, 13, 16, 17, to the end.
Chap, xxxiii. 2. Psal. cii. 13—22. Jer. iii. 21. Isa. lxv. 24.— xii. 17. Hos.
v. 15. with vi. 1, 2, 3. and xiv. 2, to the end. Zech. x. 6. —xii. 10. and xiii. 9.
u 2

20. " He that testifieth these things, saith, Surely 1 come
quickly ; Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus."
The Scripture gives us great reason to think, that when
once there comes to appear much of a spirit of prayer in
the church of God for this mercy, then it will soon "be ac
complished. It is evidently with reference to this mercy,
that God makes the promise in Isa. xii. 17 — 19. " When
the poor and needy seek water and there is none, and their
tongue faileth for thirst, I, the Lord, will hear them ; I, the
God of Israel, will not forsake them ; I will open rivers in
high places, and fountains in the midst of the valleys ; I
will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land
springs of water ; I will plant in the wilderness the cedar,
the shittah-tree, and the myrtle, and the oil-tree ; I will set
in the desert the fir-tree, the pine, and the box-tree to
gether." Spiritual waters and rivers are explained by the
apostle John, to be the Holy Spirit, (John vii. 37 — 39.)
It is now a time of scarcity of these spiritual waters ; there
are, as it were, none. If God's people, in this time of great
drought, were but made duly sensible of this calamity, and
their own emptiness and necessity, and brought earnestly to
thirst and cry for needed supplies, God would, doubtless,
soon fulfil this blessed promise. We have another promise
much like this, in Psal. cii. 16, 17. " When the Lord shall
build up Zion, he shall appear in his glory ; he will regard
the prayer of the destitute, and not despise their prayer."
And remarkable are the words that follow in the next verse,
" This shall be written for the generation to come ; and the
people which shall be created, shall praise the Lord."
Which seems to signify, that this promise shall be left on
record to encourage some future generation of God's people
to pray and cry earnestly for this mercy, to whom he would
fulfil the promise, and thereby give them, and great multi
tudes of others who should be converted through their
prayers, occasion to praise his name.
Who knows but that the generation here spoken of, may
be this present generation ? One thing mentioned in the
character of that future generation, is certainly true con
cerning the present, viz. That it is destitute. The church
of God is in very low, sorrowful, and needy circumstances ;
and if the next thing there supposed, were also verified in
us, viz. That we were made sensible of our great calamity,
and brought to cry earnestly to God for help, I am persuad
ed the third would be also verified, viz. That our prayers
would be turned into joyful praise, for God's gracious an
swers of them. It is spoken of as a sign and evidence,
that the time to favour Zion is come, when God's servants
are brought by their prayerfulness for her restoration, in an
eminent manner, to show that they favour her stones and
dust ; (ver. 13, 14.) " Thou shalt arise, and have mercy
upon Zion ; for the time to favour her, yea, the set time,
is come ; for thy servants take pleasure in her stones, and
favour the dust thereof."
God has respect to the prayers of his saints in all his
government of the world ; as we may observe by the repre
sentation made Rev. viii. at- the beginning. There we read
of seven angels standing before the throne of God, and re
ceiving of him seven trumpets, at the sounding of which,
great and mighty changes were to be brought to pass in the
world, through many successive ages. But when these
angels had received their trumpets, they must stand still,
and all must be in silence, not one of them must be allow
ed to sound, till the prayers qf the saints are attended to.
The angel of the covenant, as a glorious high priest, comes
and stands at the altar, with much incense, to offer with the
prayers qf all saints upon the golden altar, before the throne;
and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the
saints, ascends up with acceptance before God, out of the
angel's hand : and then the angels prepare themselves to
sound. And God, in the events of every trumpet, remem
bers those prayers : as appears at last, by the great and
glorious things he accomplishes for his church, in the issue
of all, in answer to these prayers, in the event of the last
trumpet, which brings the glory of the latter days, when
these prayers shall be turned into joyful praises. Rev. xi.
15 — 17. " And the seventh angel sounded ; and there were
Isa. Iv. 6. with ver. 12, 13. Jer. xxxiii. 3. The prophecies of future glorious
times of the church are often introduced with a prayer of the church for
her deliverance and advancement, prophetically uttered ; as in Isa. li. 9,
&c. Chap, lxiii. 11, to the end, and lxiv. throughout.

292

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part II.

great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world
are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ ;
and he shall reign for ever and ever. And the four-and-
twenty elders, which sat before God on their seats, fell
upon their faces, and worshipped God, saying, We give thee
thanks, O Lord God Almighty, which art and wast and
art to come, because thou hast taken to thee thy great
power, and hast reigned." Since it is the pleasure of God
so to honour his people, as to carry on all the designs of
his kingdom in this way, viz. By the prayers of his saints ;
this gives us great reason to think, that whenever the time
comes that God gives an extraordinary spirit of prayer for
the promised advancement of his kingdom on eanh —
which is God's great aim in all preceding providences, and
the main thing that the spirit of prayer in the saints aims
at — then the fulfilment of this event is nigh.
God, in wonderful grace, is pleased to represent himself,
as it were, at the command of his people with regard to mer
cies of this nature, so as to be ready to bestow them when
ever they shall earnestly pray for them ; Isa. xiv. 1 1 .
" Thus saith the Lord, the Holy One of Israel, and his
Maker, Ask me of things to come concerning my sons,
and concerning the work of my hands, command ye me."
What God is speaking of, in this context, is the restoration
of his church ; not only a restoration from temporal cala
mity and an outward captivity, by Cyrus; but also a
spiritual restoration and advancement, by God's command
ing the heavens to " drop down from above, and the skies
to pour down righteousness, and causing the earth to open
and bring forth salvation, and righteousness to spring up to
gether," ver. 8. God would have his people ask of him, or
inquire of him by earnest prayer, to do this for them ; and
manifests himself as being at the command of earnest pray
ers for such a mercy : and a reason why God is so ready
to hear such prayers is couched in the words, viz. Be
cause it is prayer for his own church, his chosen and be
loved people, " his sons and daughters, and the work of
his hands ;" and he cannot deny any thing that is asked
for their comfort and prosperity.
God speaks of himself as standing ready to be gracious
to his church, and to appear for its restoration, and only
waiting for such an opportunity to bestow this mercy, when
he shall hear the cries of his people for it, that he may be
stow it in answer to their prayers. Isa. xxx. 18, 19.
" Therefore will the Lord wait, that he may be gracious to
thee : and therefore will he be exalted, that he may have
mercy upon you ; for the Lord is a God of judgment :
blessed are ail they that wait for him. For the people
shall dwell in Zion at Jerusalem. Thou shalt weep no
more; he will be very gracious unto thee, at the voice of
thy cry; when he shall hear it, he will answer thee." The
words imply, that when God once sees his people much
engaged in praying for this mercy, it shall be no longer de
layed. Christ desires lo " hear the voice of his spouse,
who is in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the
stairs ;" in a low and obscure state, driven into secret cor
ners ; he only waits for this, in order to put an end to her
state of affliction, and cause " the day to break, and the
shadows to flee away." If he once heard her voice in
earnest prayer, he would come swiftly over the mountains
of separation between him and her, as a roe, or young hart;
(Sol. Song ii. 14, &c.)
When his church is in a low state, and oppressed by
her enemies, and cries to him, he will swiftly fly to her
relief, as birds fly at the cry of their young; (Isa. xxxi. 5.)
Yea, when that glorious day comes, " before they call, he
will answer them, and while they are yet speaking, he will
hear ;" and in answer to their pravers, he will make " the
wolf and the lamb feed together," &c. (Isa. lxv. 24, 25.)
When the spouse prays for the effusion of the Holy Spirit,
and the coming of Christ, by granting the tokens of his
spiritual presence in the church, (Cant. iv. 16.) "Awake,
O north wind, and come, thou south, blow upon my gar
den, that the spices thereof may flow out ; let my beloved
come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits ;" there
seems to be an immediate answer to her prayer, in the next
words, in abundant communications of the Spirit, and be-
* Exod. ii. 23. and iii. 7. The great restoration of the church in the latter
day, is spoken of as resembled by this; as Isa. lxiv. 1 — 4. xi. 11, 15. 16.
xliii. 2,3, 16-19. li. 10, 11, 15. lxiii. 11, 12, 13. Zech. 10,11. Hos.ii. 11,15.

stowment of spiritual blessings ; " I am come into my
garden, my sister, my spouse; I have gathered my myrrh
with my spice; I have eaten my honey-comb with my
honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, 0
friends ; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved."
Scripture instances and examples of success in prayer give
great encouragement to pray for this mercy. Most of the
remarkable deliverances and restorations of the church of
God, mentioned in the Scriptures, were in answer to prayer.
For instance, the redemption of the church of God from
the Egyptian bondage.* It was in answer to prayer, that
the sun stood still over Gibeon, and the moon in the val
ley of Aijalon, and God's people obtained that great vic
tory over their enemies ; in which wonderful miracle, God
seemed to have some respect to a future more glorious
event to be accomplished for the christian church, in the
day of her victory ever her enemies, in the latter days ;
even that event foretold, Isa. xl. 20. " Thy sun shall no
more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself."
It was in answer to prayer, that God delivered his
church from the mighty hosts of the Assyrians, in Heze
kiah's time ; which dispensation is a type of the great things.
God will do for the christian church in the Tatter days.
The restoration of the church of God from the Babylonish
captivity, as abundantly appears both by scripture pro
phecies, and histories, was in answer to extraordinary
prayer.f This restoration of the Jewish church, after the
destruction of Babylon, is evidently a type of the glorious
restoration of the christian church, after the destruction of
the kingdom of antichrist ; which is abundantly spoken of
in the revelation of St. John, as the antitype of Babylon.
Samson out of weakness received strength to pull down
Dagon's temple, through prayer. So the people of God,
in the latter days, will out of weakness be made strong,
and will become the instruments of pulling down the
kingdom of Satan by prayer.
The Spirit of God was poured out upon Christ himself,
in answer to prayer ; Luke iii. 21, 22. " Now when all the
people were baptized, it came to pass, that Jesus also being
baptized, and praying, the heaven was opened, and the
Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape, like a dove,.
upon him; and a voice came from heaven, which said.
Thou art my beloved Son, in thee I am well pleased."
The Spirit descends on the church of Christ, the same way,
in this respect, that it descended on the head of the
church. The greatest effusion ofthe Spirit thatever yet has
been, even that which was in the primitive times of the
christian church, which began in Jerusalem, on the day of
Pentecost, was in answer to extraordinary prayer. When
the disciples were gathered together to their Lord, a little
before his ascension, " he commanded them that they should
not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the
Father, which, saith he, ye have heard of me," i. e. the
promise of the Holy Ghost ; Acts i. 4. What they had
their hearts upon was the restoration of the kingdom of
Israel : "Lord, (say they,) wilt thou at this time restore again
the kingdom to Israel'!" (ver. 6.) And according to
Christ's direction, after his ascension, they returned to
Jerusalem, and continued in united fervent prayer and
supplication. It seems they spent their time in it from
day to day, without ceasing ; till the Spirit came down in
a wonderful manner upon them, and that work was begun.
which never ceased, and all the chief nations were con
verted to Christianity. And that glorious deliverance and
advancement of the christian church, that was in the days
of Constantine the Great, followed the extraordinary cries
of the church of God, as the matter is represented, Rev..
vi. at the opening of the fifth seal. The church in her
suffering state, is represented crying with a loud voice,
" How long, Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge, and
avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth ?" And
the opening of the next seal brings on lhat mighty revolu
tion, in the days of Constantine, compared to those great
changes that shall be at the end ofthe world.
As there is so great and manifold reason from the word
of God, to think that if a spirit of earnest prayer for that
great effusion of the Spirit of God which I am speaking of,
t See Jer. xxix. 10-14. and 1. 4, 5. Dan, ix. throughout. Ezra. viii. 21,
_c. Neh. i. 4. to the end.— iv. 4, 5. and chap. ix. throughout

Sect. VI.

MOTIVES TO EXCITE US.

293

prevailed in the christian church, the mercy would be soon
granted ; so those that are engaged in such prayer might
well expect the first benefit. - God will come to those that
are seeking him and waiting for him ; Isa. xxv. 9. and
xxvi. 8. When Christ came in the flesh, he was first re
vealed to them who were waiting for the consolation qf
Israel, and looking for redemption in Jerusalem, Luke i. 25,
38. And in that great outpouring of the Spirit that was in
the days of the apostles, which was attended with such
glorious effects among the Jews and Gentiles, the Spirit
came down first on those that were engaged in united
earnest prayer for it. — A special blessing is promised to
them that love and pray for the prosperity of the church of
God, Psalm cxxxii. 6. " Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.
They shall prosper that love thee."

SECT. VI.
Motives to excite us.
We are presented with many motives in the dispensa
tions of divine providence, at this day, to excite us to be
much in prayer for this mercy. There is much in provi
dence to show us our need of it, and put us on desiring
it. The great outward calamities, in which the world is
involved ; and particularly the bloody war that embroils
and wastes the nations of Christendom, and in which our
nation has so great a share, may well make all that believe
God's word, and love mankind, earnestly long and pray for
that day, when the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the
nations shall beat their swords into plow-shares.
But especially do the spiritual calamities and miseries of
the present time, show our great need of that blessed effu
sion of God's Spirit : there having been, for so long a time,
so great a withholding of the Spirit, from the greater pari
of the christian world, and such dismal consequences of it,
in the great decay of vital piety, and the exceeding preva
lence of infidelity, heresy, and all manner of vice and
wickedness. Of this a most affecting account has lately
been published in a pamphlet, printed in London, and re
printed in Scotland, entitled Britain's Remembrancer ; by
which it seems that luxury, and wickedness of almost every
kind, is well nigh come to the utmost extremity in the na
tion ; and if vice should continue to prevail and increase for
one generation more, as it has the generation past, it looks
as though the nation could hardly continue in being, but
must sink under the weight of its own corruption and
wickedness. And the state of things in the other parts of the British
dominions, besides England, is very deplorable. The
church of Scotland has very much lost her glory, greatly-
departing from her ancient purity, and excellent order;
and has of late been bleeding with great and manifold
wounds, occasioned by their divisions and hot contentions.
And there are frequent complaints from thence, by those
that lament the corruptions of that land, of sin and wick
edness of innumerable kinds, abounding and prevailing
of late, among all ranks of men. And how lamentable is
the moral and religious state of these American colonies !
of New England in particular ! How much is that kind
of religion which was professed, much experience, and
practice, in the first and apparently tbe best times in New
England, grown and growing out of credit ! What fierce
and violent contentions have been of late among ministers
and people, about things of a religious nature! How
much is the gospel-ministry grown into contempt ! and
the work of the ministry, in many respects, laid under
uncommon difficulties, and even in danger of sinking
amongst us ! How many of our congregations and
churches rending in pieces ! Church discipline weakened,
and ordinances less and less regarded ! What wild and
extravagant notions, gross delusions of tbe devil, and
strange practices, have prevailed, and do still prevail in
many places, under a pretext of extraordinary purity, spi
rituality, liberty, and zeal against formality, usurpation,
and conformity to the world ! How strong, deeply root
ed, and general, are the prejudices that prevail against
vital religion and the power of godliness, and almost every

thing that appertains to it, or tends to it! . How appa
rently are the hearts of people, every where, uncommonly
shut up against all means and endeavours to awaken sin
ners and revive religion ! Vice and immorality, of all
kinds, withal increasing and unusually prevailing ! — May
not an attentive view and consideration of such a state of
things well influence the people that favour the dust of
Zion, to earnestness in their cries to God for a general out
pouring of his Spirit, which alone can be an effectual re
medy for these evils ?
Besides, the fresh attempts made by the antichristian
powers against the protestant interest, in their late endea
vours to restore a popish government in Great Britain,
the chief bulwark of the protestant cause ; as also the
persecution lately revived against the protestants in
France ; may well give occasion to the people of God, to
renewed and extraordinary earnestness in their prayers to
him, for the fulfilment of the promised downfall of anti
christ, and that liberty and glory of his church that shall
follow. As there is much in the present state of things to show
us our great need of this mercy, and to cause us to desire
it ; so there is very much to convince us, that God alone
can bestow it ; and show .us our entire and absolute de
pendence on him for it. The insufficiency of human abi
lities to bring to pass any such happy change in the world
as is foretold, or to afford any remedy to mankind from
such miseries as have been mentioned, does now remark
ably appear. Those observations of the apostle, 1 Cor. i.
" The world by wisdom knows not God, and God makes
foolish the wisdom of this world," never were verified to
such a degree as they are now. Great discoveries have
been made in the arts and sciences, and never was human
learning carried to such a height, as in the present age ;
and yet never did the cause of religion and virtue run so
low, in nations professing the true religion. Never was
there an age wherein so many learned and elaborate trea
tises have been written, in proof of the truth and divinity
of the christian religion ; yet never were there so many in
fidels, among those that were brought up under the light
of the gospel. It is an age, as is supposed, of great light,
freedom of thought, discovery of truth in matters of reli
gion, detection of the weakness and bigotry of our ances
tors, and of the folly and absurdity of the notions of those
who were accounted eminent divines in former genera
tions ; which notions, it is imagined, destroyed the very
foundations of virtue and religion, and enervated all pre
cepts of morality, and in effect annulled all difference be
tween virtue and vice ; and yet vice and wickedness did
never so prevail, like an overflowing deluge, lt is an age
wherein those mean and stingy principles, as they are
called, of our forefathers, which are supposed to have de
formed religion, and led to unworthy thoughts of God,
are very much discarded and grown out of credit, and
thoughts of the nature of religion, and of the christian
scheme, supposed to be more free, noble, and generous,
are entertained. But yet never was there an age, wherein
religion in general was so much despised and trampled on,
and Jesus Christ and God Almighty so blasphemed and
treated with open, daring contempt.
The exceeding weakness of mankind, and their insuffi
ciency in themselves for bringing to pass any thing great
and good in the world, with regard to its moral and spi
ritual state, remarkably appears in many things that have
attended and followed the extraordinary religious commo
tion, that has lately been in ninny parts of Great Britain
and America. The infirmity of human nature has been
manifested, in a very affecting manner, in the various pas
sions of men, and the innumerable ways in which they
have been moved, as a reed shaken with the wind, on oc
casion of the changes and incidents, both public and pri
vate, of such a state of things. How many errors and
extremes are we liable to ! How quickly blinded, misled,
and confounded ! And how easily does Satan make fools
of men, if confident in their own wisdom and strength,
and left to themselves 1 Many, in the late wonderful
season, were ready to admire and trust in men, as if all
depended on such and such instruments; at least, ascribed
too much to their skill and zeal, because God was
pleased to employ them a little while to do extraordinary

294

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Part II.

things ; but what great things does the skill and zeal
of instruments do now, when Lhe Spirit of God is with
drawn ?
As the present state of things may well excite earnest
desires after the promised general revival and advance
ment of true religion, and serve to show our dependence
on God for it, so there are many things in providence, of
late, that tend to encourage us in prayer for such a mercy.
That infidelity, heresy, and vice do so prevail, and that
corruption and wickedness are risen to such an extreme
height, is exceeding deplorable ; but yet, I think, consi
dering God's promises to his church, and the ordinary
method of his dispensations, hope may justly be gathered
from it, that the present state of things will not last long,
but that a happy change is nigh. We know, that God
never will desert the cause of truth and holiness, nor suffer
the gates of hell to prevail against the church ; and that
usually, from the beginning of the world, the state of the
church has appeared most dark, just before some remark
able deliverance and advancement : " Many a time, may
Israel say, Had not the Lord been on our side, then our ene
mies would have swallowed us up quick. — The waters
had overwhelmed us." The church's extremity has often
been God's opportunity for magnifying his power, mercy,
and faithfulness towards her. The interest of vital piety
has long been in general decaying, and error and wicked
ness prevailing ; it looks as though the disease were now
come to a crisis, and that things cannot remain long in
such a state, but that a change may be expected in one
respect or other.
And not only God's manner of dealing with his church
in former ages, and many things in the promises and pro
phecies of his word, but also several things appertaining
to present and late aspects of divine providence, seem to
give reason to hope that the change will be such, as to
magnify God's free grace and sovereign mercy, and not
his revenging justice and wrath. There are certain times,
which are days of vengeance, appointed for the more spe
cial displays of God's justice and indignation. God has
also his days of mercy, accepted times, chosen seasons,
wherein it is his pleasure to show mercy, and nothing
shall hinder it ; times appointed for the magnifying of the
Redeemer and his merits, and for the triumphs of his
grace, wherein his grace shall triumph over men's unwor
thiness in its greatest height. And if we consider God's
late dealings with our nation and this land, it appears to
me that there is much to make us think that this is such
a day.* God's patience was very wonderful of old, towards the
ten tribes, and the people of Judah and Jerusalem, and
afterwards to the Jews in the times of Christ and the
apostles ; but it seems to me, all things considered, not
equal to his patience and mercy to us. God does not only
forbear to destroy us, notwithstanding all our provocations,
but he has wrought great things for us, wherein his hand
has been most visible, and his arm made bare ; especially
those two instances in America, God succeeding us against
Cape-Breton, and confounding the Armada from 1 ranee
the last year ; dispensations of providence, which, if con
sidered in ail their circumstances, were so wonderfully
and apparently manifesting an extraordinary divine inter
position, that they come perhaps the nearest to a parallel
with God's wonderful works of old, in the times of Moses,
Joshua, and Hezekiah, of any that have been in these
latter ages of the world. And it is to my present purpose
to observe, that God was pleased to do great things for us
in both these instances, in answer to extraordinary prayer.
Such remarkable appearances of a spirit of prayer, on any
particular public occasion, have not been in the land, at
any time within my observation and memory, as on
occasion of the affair of Cape-Breton. And it is worthy
to be remembered, that God sent that great storm on the
fleet of our enemies the last year, that finally dispersed,
* Particularly God's preserving and delivering the nation, when in so
great danger of ruin by the late rebellion ; and his preserving New England,
and the other British colonies in America, in so remarkable a manner, from
the great armament from France, prepared and sent against us the last year ;
and the almost miraculous success given us against our enemies at Cape-
Breton the year before, disappointing their renewed preparations and fresh
attempt against these colonies, this present year, (1747, J by delivering up the
strength of their fleet into the hands of the — nglish, as they were in their
»vay hither. Aud also in protecting us from time to time from armies by

and utterly confounded them, and caused them wholly to
give over their designs against us, the very night after our
day of public fasting and prayer, for our protection and
their confusion.
Thus, although it be a day of great apostacy and pro
vocation, yet it is apparently a day of the wonderful works
of God ; wonders of power and mercy ; which may well
lead us to think on those two places of Scripture ; Psal.
cxix. 126. " It is time for thee, Lord, to work, for they
have made void thy law." And Psal. Ixxv. 1 . " That thy
name is near, thy wondrous works declare." — God appears,
as it were, loth to destroy us, or deal with us according to
our iniquities, great and aggravated as they are; and
shows that mercy pleases him. Though a corrupt ^ime,
it is plain, by experience, that it is a time wherein God
may be found, and he stands ready to show mercy in
answer to prayer. He that has done such great things,
and has so wonderfully and speedily answered prayer for
temporal mercies, will much more give the Holy Spirit if
we ask him. He marvellously preserves us, and waits to
be gracious to us, as . though he chose to make us monu
ments of his grace, and not of his vengeance, and waits
only to have us open our mouths wide, that he may fill
them. The late remarkable religious awakenings, in many parts
of the christian world, may justly encourage us in prayer
for the promised glorious and universal outpouring of tlie
Spirit of God. " About the year 1732 or 1733, God was
pleased to pour out his Spirit on the people of Saltizburg
m Germany, who were living under popish darkness, in a
most uncommon manner ; so that above twenty thousand
of them, merely by reading the Bible, which they made a
shift to get in their own language, were determined to
throw off popery, and embrace the reformed religion ; yea,
and to become so very zealous for the truth and gospel of
Jesus Christ, as to be willing to suffer the loss of all things in
the world , and actually to forsake their houses, lands, goods,
and relations, that they might enjoy the pure preaching of
the gospel ; — with great earnestness, and tears in their
eyes, beseeching protestant ministers to preach to them, in
different places where they came, when banished from
their own country." In the year 1734 and 1735, there
appeared a very great and general awakening, in the
county of Hampshire, in the province of the Massachu
setts Bay, in New England, and also in many parts of
Connecticut. Since this, there has been a far more ex
tensive awakening of many thousands in England, Wales,
and Scotland, and almost all the British provinces in
North America. There has also been something remark
able of the same kind, in some places in the united Nether
lands ; and about two years ago, a very great awakening
and reformation of many of the Indians, in the Jerseys,
and Pennsylvania, even among such as never embraced
Christianity before : and within these two years, a great
awakening in Virginia and Maryland.
Notwithstanding the great diversity of opinions about
the issue of some of these awakenings, yet I know of none,
who have denied that there have been great awakenings of
late, in these times and places, and that multitudes have
been brought to more than common concern for their salva
tion, and for a time were made more than ordinarily afraid
of sin, and brought to reform their former vicious courses,
and take much pains for their salvation. If I should be
of the opinion of those who think, that these awakenings
and striving of God's Spirit have been generally not well
improved, and so, as to most, have ended in enthusiasm
and delusion ; yet, that the Spirit of God has been of late
so wonderfully striving with such multitudes — in so many
different parts of the world, and even to this day, in one
place or other, continues to awaken men — is what I should
take great encouragement from, that God was about to do
something more glorious, and would, before he finishes,
bring things to a greater ripeness, and not finally suffer
land that have come against us from Canada, since the beginning of the pre
sent war with France. Besides many strange instances ofprotection of par
ticular forts and settlements, showing a manifest interposition of the hand
of heaven, to the observation of some of our enemies, and even of the
savages. And added to these, the late unexpected restoring of the greater
part of our many captives in Canada, by those that held them prisoners
there. It appears to me, that God has gone much out of his usual way in
his exercises of mercy, patience, and long-suffering, in these instances.

Sect. VII.

THE BEAUTY AND GOOD TENDENCY OF SUCH UNION.

295

this work of his to be frustrated and rendered abortive by
Satan's crafty management. And may we not hope, that
these unusual commotions are the forerunners of some
thing exceeding glorious approaching ; as the wind,
earthquake, and fire at mount Sinai, were forerunners of
that voice wherein God was in a more eminent manner?
(1 Kings xix. 11, 12.)

SECT. VII.
The beauty and good tendency of such union.
How condecent, how beautiful, and of good tendency
would it be, for multitudes of Christians, in various parts
ofthe world, hy explicit agreement, to unite in such prayer
as is proposed to us. Union is one of the most amiable
things that pertains to human society ; yea, it is one of
the most beautiful and happy things on earth, which in
deed makes earth most like heaven. God has made of
one blood all nations of men, to dwell on all the face of
the earth ; hereby teaching us this moral lesson, that it
becomes mankind all to be united as one family. And
this is agreeable to the nature God has given men, dis
posing them to society ; and the circumstances in which
he has placed them, so many ways obliging and necessitat
ing them to it. A civil union, or an harmonious agree
ment among men in the management of their secular con
cerns, is amiable ; but much more a pious union, and sweet
agreement in the great business for which man was created,
even the business of religion ; the life and soul of which
is love. Union is spoken of in Scripture as the peculiar
beauty of the church of Christ, Cant. vi. 9. " My dove,
my undefiled, is but one, she is the only one of her mother,
she is the choice one of her that bare her ; the daughters
saw her and blessed her, yea, the queens and the concu-
bines,and they praised her." Psal. cxxii. 5. " Jerusalem
is builded as a city that is compact together." Eph. iv.
3 — 6. " Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in
the bond of peace. There is one body, and one Spirit,
even as ye are called in one hope of your calling ; one
Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all,
who is above all, and through all, and in you all." Ver.
16. "The whole body fitly framed together and com
pacted, by that which' every joint supplie.th, according
to the effectual working in the measure of every part,
maketh increase of the body, unto the edifying itself in
love." As it is the glory of the church of Christ, that in all her
members, however dispersed, she is thus one, one holy so
ciety, one city, one family, one body ; so it is very desir
able, that this union should be manifested, and become
visible. It is highly desirable, that her distant members
should act as one, in those things that concern the common
interest of the whole body, and in those duties and ex
ercises wherein they have to do with their common Lord
and Head, as seeking of him the common prosperity.
As it becomes all the members of a particular family,
who are strictly united, and have in so many re
spects one common interest, to unite in prayer to God for
the things they need ; and as it becomes a nation, at cer
tain seasons, visibly to unite in prayer for those public
mercies that concern the interest of the whole nation : so,
it becomes the church of Christ — which is one holy nation,
a peculiar people, one heavenly family, more strictly united,
in many respects, and having infinitely greater interests
that are common to the whole, than any other society —
visibly to unite, and expressly to agree together, in prayer
to God for the common prosperity ; and above all, that
common prosperity and advancement, so unspeakably
great and glorious, which God hath so abundantly promised
to fulfil in the latter days.
It becomes Christians, with whose character a narrow
selfish spirit, above all others, disagrees, to be much in
prayer for lhat public mercy, wherein consists the welfare
and happiness of the whole body of Christ, of which they
are members, and the greatest good of mankind. And
union or agreement in prayer is especially becoming, when
Christians pray for that mercy, which above all other things

concerns them unitedly, and tends to the relief, prosperity,
and glory of the whole body, as well as of each individual
member. Such an union in prayer for the general outpouring of
the Spirit of God, would not only be beautiful, but pro
fitable too. It would tend very much to promote union
and charity between distant members of the church of
Christ, to promote public spirit, love to the church of God,
and concern for the interest of Zion; as well as be an
amiable exercise and manifestation of such a spirit. Union
in religious duties, especially in the duty of prayer, in
praying one with and for another, and jointly for their
common welfare, above almost all other things, tends
to promote mutual affection and endearment. And if
ministers and people should, by particular agreement and
joint resolution, set themselves, in a solemn and extra
ordinary manner, from time to time, to pray for the revival
of religion in the world, it would naturally tend more
to awaken in them a concern about things of this na
ture, and more of a desire after such a mercy. It would
engage them to more attention to such an affair, make
them more inquisitive about it, more ready to use en
deavours to promote what they, with so many others,
spend so much time in praying for. It would make
them more ready to rejoice, and praise God, when they
see or hear of any thing of that nature or tendency.
And, in a particular manner, it would naturally tend to
engage ministers — the business of whose lives it should
be, to seek the welfare of the church of Christ, and
the advancement of his kingdom — to greater diligence
and earnestness in their work ; and it would have a ten
dency to the spiritual profit and advantage of each particu
lar person. For persons to be thus engaged in extraorj
dinary prayer for the revival and flourishing state of religion
in the world, will naturally lead each one to reflect on
himself, and consider how religion flourishes in his own
heart, and how far his example contributes to that for
which he is praying.
On the whole there is great and particular encourage
ment given in the word of God, to express union and agree
ment in prayer. Daniel, when he had a great thing to
request of God, viz. That he by his Holy Spirit would mi
raculously reveal to him a great secret, which none of the
wise men, astrologers, magicians, or soothsayers of Baby
lon could find out, he goes to Hananiah, Mishael, and
Azariah, his companions, and they agree together, that
they will unitedly desire mercies of the God of heaven,
concerning this secret ; and their joint request was soon
granted. God put great honour upon them, above all the
wise men of Babylon, not only to their great joy, but also
to the admiration and astonishment of Nebuchadnezzar ;
insomuch, that the great and haughty monarch, as we are
told, fell upon his face and worshipped Daniel, and owned
that his God was qf a truth a God qf gods, and he greatly
promoted Daniel and his praying companions in the pro
vince of Babylon. Esther, when she had a yet more
important request to make, for the saving of the church of
God, and whole Jewish nation, dispersed through the em
pire of Persia, when on the brink of ruin, sends to all the
Jews in the city Shushan, to pray and fast with her and her
maidens ; and their united prayers prevail ; so that the
event was wonderful. Instead of the intended destruction
of the Jews, their enemies are destroyed every where,
and they are defended, honoured, and promoted ; their
sorrow and distress is turned into great gladness, feasting,
triumph, and mutual joyful congratulations.
The encouragement to explicit agreement in prayer is
great from such instances as these ; but it is yet greater
from those wonderful words of our blessed Redeemer,
Matt, xviii. 19. "1 say unto you, that if any two
of you shall agree on earth, touching any thing that they
shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is
in heaven." Christ is pleased to give this great encour
agement to the union of his followers in this excellent and
holy exercise of seeking and serving God ; a holy union
and communion of his people being that which he greatly
desires and delights in ; that which he came into the world
to bring to pass ; that which he especially prayed for with
his dying breath ; (John xvii.) that which he died for ; and
which was one chief end of the whole affair of our redemp-

296

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part III.

tion by him ; Eph. i. " In whom we have redemption
through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the
riches of his grace, wherein he hath abounded towards us
in all wisdom and prudence ; having made known to us
the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure,

which he hath purposed in himself: that in the dispensa
tion of the fulness of times, he might gather together in one
all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which
are on earth, even in him."

PART III.
OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.

I come now, as was proposed, in the third place, to
answer and obviate some objections, which some may be
ready to make against what has been proposed to us.

SECT. I.
Such agreement superstitious, answered.
Some may be ready to say, that for Christians in such a
manner to set apart certain seasons, every week, and every
quarter, to be religiously observed and kept for the pur
poses proposed, from year to year, would be, in effect, to
establish certain periodical times of human invention and
appointment, to be kept holy to God; and so to do the
very thing, that has ever been objected against, by a very
great part of the most eminent Christians and divines
among protestants, as what men have no right to do ; it
being for them to add to God's institutions, and intro
duce their own inventions and establishments into the
stated worship of God, and lay unwarrantable bonds on
men's consciences, and do what naturally tends to super
stition. To this I would say, there can be no justice in such an
objection against this proposal, as made to us in the fore-
mentioned Memorial. Indeed, that caution appears in
the project itself, and in the manner in which it is proposed
to us, that there is not so much as any colour for the
objection. The proposal is such, and so well guarded,
that there seems to be no room for the weakest Christian
who well observes it, to understand those things to be im
plied in it, which have indeed been objected against by
many eminent Christians and divines among protestants,
as entangling men's consciences, and adding to divine in
stitutions, &c. — Here is no pretence of establishing any
thing by authority ; no appearance of any claim of power
in the proposers, or right to have any regard paid to their
determinations or proposals, by virtue of any deference
due to them, in any respect. So far from that, they ex
pressly propose what they have thought of to others, for
tlieir amendments and improvements, declaring that they
choose rather to receive and spread the directions and pro
posals of others, than to be the first authors of any.
No times, not sanctified by God's own institution, are
proposed to be observed more than others, under any no
tion of such times being, in any respect, more holy, or
more honourable, or worthy of any preference, or distin
guishing regard ; either as being sanctified, or made
honourable, by authority, or by any great events of divine
Erovidence, or any relation to any holy persons or things ;
ut only as circumstantially convenient, helpful to memory,
especially free from worldly business, near to the times of
the administration of public ordinances, &c. None at
tempts to lay any bonds on others, with respect to this
matter ; or to desire that they should lay any bonds on
themselves ; or look on themselves as under any obliga
tions, either by power or promise ; or so much as come
into any absolute determination in their own minds, to set
apart any stated days from secular affairs ; or even to fix
on any part of such days, without liberty to alter circum
stances, as shall be found expedient ; and also liberty left
to a future alteration of judgment, as to expediency, on
future trial and consideration. All that is proposed is,
that such as fall in with what is proposed in their judg

ments and inclinations, while they do so should strengthen,
assist, and encourage their brethren that are of the same
mind, by visibly consenting and joining with them in the
affair. Is here any thing like making laws in matters of
conscience and religion, or adding men's institutions to
God's ; or any show of imposition, or superstitious esteem
ing and preferring one day above another, or any possible
ground of entanglement of any one's conscience ?
For men to go about by law to establish and limit cir
cumstances of worship, not established or limited by any
law of God, such as precise time, place, and order, may
be in many respects of dangerous tendency. But surely
it cannot be unlawful or improper, for Christians to come
into some agreement, with regard to these circumstances :
for it is impossible to carry on any social worship without
it. There is no institution of Scripture requiring any peo
ple to meet together to worship God in such a spot of
ground, or at such an hour of the day ; but yet these must
be determined by agreement ; or else there will be no
social worship, in any place, or any hour. So we are not
determined by institution, what the precise order of the
different parts of worship shall be; what shall precede,
and what shall follow ; whether praying or singing shall be
first, and what shall be next, and what shall conclude :
but yet some order must be agreed on, by the congrega
tion that unite in worship ; otherwise they cannot jointly
carry on divine worship, in any way of method at all. If
a congregation of Christians agree to begin their public
worship with prayer, next to sing, then to attend on the
preaching of the word, and to conclude with prayer ; and
do by consent carry on their worship in this order from
year to year ; though this order is not appointed in Scrip
ture, none will call it superstition. And if a great number
of congregations, through a whole land, or more lands
than one, do, by a common consent, keep the same method
of public worship ; none will pretend to find fault with it
But yet for any to go about to bind all to such a method,
would be usurpation and imposition. And if such a pre
cise order should be regarded as sacred, as though no
other could be acceptable to God, this would be super
stition. If a particular number of Christians shall agree,
that besides the stated public worship of the sabbath, they
will, when their circumstances allow, meet together, to
carry on some religious exercises, on a sabbath-day night,
for their mutual edification ; or if several societies agree
to meet together in different places at that time ; this is no
superstition ; though there be no institution for it. If peo
ple in different congregations, voluntarily agree to take turns
to meet together in the house of God, to worship him and
hear a public lecture, once a month, or once in six weeks ;
it is not unlawful though there be no institution for it :
but yet, to do this as a thing sacred, indispensable, and
binding on men's consciences, would be superstition. If
Christians of several neighbouring congregations, instead
of a lecture, agree on some special occasion to keep a cir
cular fust, each congregation taking its turn in a certain
time and order, fixed on by consent ; or if, instead of
keeping fast by turns, on different days, one on one week
and one on another, they shall all agree to keep a fast on
the same day, and to do this either once or frequently, ac
cording as'they shall judge their own circumstances, or
the dispensations of the divine providence, or the import
ance of the merey they seek, require ; is there any more
superstition in this ?

Sect. II.

SUCH AGREEMENT NOT WHIMSICAL, &c.

297

SECT. II.

That such agreement is whimsical and pharisaical, answered.
Some may be ready to say, there seems to be something
whimsical in its being insisted on that God's people in
different places should put up their prayers for this mercy
ut the same time ; as though their prayers would be more
forcible on that account ; and as if God would not be so
'likely to hear prayers offered up by many, though they
happened not to pray at the same time, as he would if
he heard them all at the same moment.
To this I would say, if such an objection be made, it
must be through misunderstanding. It is not signified or
implied in any thing said in the proposal, or in any argu
ments made use of to enforce it, that I have seen, that the
prayers of a great number in different places, will be more
forcible, merely because of that circumstance, of their
being put up at the same time. It is indeed supposed,
that it will be very expedient, that certain times for united
prayer should be agreed on : which it may be, without
implying the thing supposed in the objection, on the fol
lowing accounts.
1 . This seems to be a proper expedient for prom -ting
and maintaining an union among Christians of distant
places, in extraordinary prayer for such a mercy. It ap
pears, from what was before observed, that there ought to
be extraordinary prayers among Christians for this mercy ;
and that it is fit God's people should agree and unite in it.
Though there be no reason to suppose that prayers will be
more prevalent, merely from the circumstance, that differ
ent persons pray exactly at the same time ; yet there will
be more reason to hope, that prayers for such mercy will
be prevalent, when God's people are very much in prayer
for it, and when many of them are united in it. If there
fore agreeing on certain times for united and extraordinary
prayer, be a likely means to promote an union of many in
extraordinary prayer, then there is more reason to hope, that
there will be prevalent prayer for such a mercy, on occasion
of certain times for extraordinary prayer being agreed on.
But that agreeing on certain times for united extraordinary
prayer, is a likely and proper means to promote and main
tain such prayer, I think will be easily evident to any one
that considers the matter. If there should be only a loose
agreement or consent to it as a duty, or a thing fit and
proper, that Christians should be much in prayer for the
revival of religion, and much more in it than they used to
be, without agreeing on particular times, how liable would
such a lax agreement be to be soon forgotten, and that ex
traordinary prayerfulness, which is fixed to no certain
times, to be totally neglected ! To be sure, distant parts of
the church of Christ could have no confidence in one
another, that this would not be the case. If these minis
ters in Scotland, for instance, instead of the proposal they
have made, had sent abroad only a general proposal, that
God's people should, for the time to come, be much in
more prayer for the advancement of Christ's kingdom,
than had been common among Christians heretofore ; and
they should hear their proposals were generally allowed to
be good ; and that ministers and people, in one place and
another, owned that it was a very proper thing ; could
they, from this only, have the like grounds of dependence,
that God's people, in various parts of the christian world,
would indeed henceforward act unitedly, in maintaining
extraordinary prayer for this mercy ? and how much more
promising would it be, if they should not only hear, that
the duty in general was approved of, but also that particu
lar times were actually fixed on for the purpose, and an
agreement and joint resolution was come into, that they
would, unless extraordinarily hindered, set apart such par
ticular seasons to be spent in thjs duty, from time to time,
maintaining this practice for a certain number of years !
2. For God's people in distant places to agree on certain
. times for extraordinary prayer, wherein they will unitedly
put up their requests to God, is a means fit and proper to
be used, in order to the visibility of their union in such
prayer. Union among God's people in prayer is truly
beautiful, as before shown ; it is beautiful in the eyes of
Christ, and it is justly beautiful and amiable in the eyes
of Christians. And if so, then it must needs be desirable

to Christians that such union should be visible. If it would
be a lovely sight in the eyes of the church of Christ, and
much to their comfort, to behold various and different
parts of the church united in extraordinary prayer for the
general outpouring of the Spirit, then it must be desirable
to them that such an union should be visible, that they may
behold it. But the agreement and union of a multitude
in their worship becomes visible, by an agreement in
some external visible circumstances. Worship itself be
comes visible worship, by something external and visible
belonging to the worship, and no other way : therefore,
union and agreement of many in worship becomes visible
no other way, but by union and agreement in the external
and visible acts and circumstances of the worship. Such
union and agreement becomes visible, particularly by an
agreement in those two visible circumstances, time and
place. When a number of Christians live near together,
and their number and situation is convenient, and they
have a desire visibly to unite in any acts of worship, they
are wont to make their union and agreement visible by an
union in both these circumstances. But when a much
greater number of Christians, dwelling in distant places so
that they cannot unite by worshipping in the same place,
yet desire a visible union in some extraordinary worship ;
they are wont to make their union and agreement visible,
by agreeing onlv in the former of those circumstances, viz.
that of time. This is common in the appointment of
public fasts and thanksgivings ; the same day is appointed,
for the performance of that extraordinary worship, as a
visible note of union. To this common sense leads Chris
tians in all countries. And the wisdom of God seems to
dictate the same thing in appointing that his people, in
their stated and ordinary public worship every week,
should manifest this union and communion one with
another, as one holy society ; by offering up their worship
on the same day ; for the greater glory of their common
Lord, and the greater edification and comfort of the whole
body. If any yet find fault with the proposal of certain times
to be agreed on by God's people in different places, in the
manner set forth in the Memorial, I would ask, Whether
they object against any such thing, as a visible agreement
of God's people, in different parts of the world, in extra
ordinary prayer, for the coming of Christ's kingdom ?
Whether such a thing being visible, would not be much
for the public honour of God's name ? And whether it
would not tend to Christians' assistance, and encourage
ment in the duty, and also to their mutual comfort, by a
manifestation of that union which is amiable to Christ and
Christians, and to promote a christian union among pro
fessing Christians in general ? And whether we have not
reason to think from the word of God, that before that
great revival of religion foretold is accomplished, there
will be a visible union of the people of God, in various
parts of the world, in extraordinary prayer for this mercy 1
If these things are allowed, I would then ask further,
whether any method can be thought of or devised, where
by an express agreement, and visible union of God's
Eeople, in different parts of the world, can be maintained,
ut this, or some other equivalent to it ? If there be any
express agreement about any extraordinary prayer at all, it
must first be proposed by some, and others must fall in,
as represented in my text. And if extraordinary prayer be
agreed on, and maintained by many in different places,
visibly one to another, then it must be agreed with regard
to some circumstances, what extraordinary prayer shall be
kept up ; and this must be seen and heard of, from one to
another. But how shall this be, when no times are agreed
upon, and it is never known, by those in different parts,
when, or how often, any others do attend this extraordi
nary prayer ? The consequence must necessarily be, that
it can never be known how far, or in what respect, others
join with them in extraordinary prayer, or whether they do
it at all ; and not so much as one circumstance of extraor
dinary prayer will be visible ; and indeed nothing will be
visible about it. So that I think any body that well con
siders the matter, will see that he who determines to op
pose such a method as is proposed to us in the Memorial,
and all others equivalent to it, is, in effect, determined to
oppose there ever being any such thing at all, as an agreed

298

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Part lit.

and visibly united extraordinary prayer, in the church of
God, for a general outpouring of the Spirit.
3. Though it would not be reasonable to suppose, that
merely such a circumstance, as many people praying at the
same time, will directly have any prevalence with God ;
yet such a circumstance may reasonably be supposed to
have influence on the minds of men. Will any deny, that
it has any reasonable tendency to encourage, animate, or
in any respect to help the mind of a Christian in serving
God in any duty of religion, to join with a christian con
gregation, and to see an assembly of his dear brethren
around him, at the same time engaged with him in the
same duty ? And supposing one in this assembly of saints
is blind, but has ground of satisfaction that there is present
a multitude of God's people united with him in the same
service ; will any deny, that his supposing this, and being
satisfied of it, can have any reasonable influence upon his
mind, to excite and encourage him, or in any respect to
assist him, in his worship 1 The encouragement that one
has in worship, by others being united with him, is not
merely by the external senses, but by the knowledge the
mind has of that union, or the satisfaction the understand
ing has that others, at that time, have their minds engaged
with him in the same service ; which may be, when those
unitedly engaged are at a distance one from another, as
well as when they are present. If one be present in a
worshipping assembly, and sees their external behaviour ;
their union with him in worship, he does not see; and
what he sees, encourages him in worship, only as an evi
dence of that union and concurrence which is out of sight.
And a person may have such evidence of this, concerning
absent worshippers, as may give him satisfaction of their
union with him, no less than if they were present. And
therefore the consideration of others being at the same
time engaged with him in worship, though absent, may as
reasonably animate and encourage him in his worship, as if
they were present.
There is no wisdom in finding fault with human nature,
as God has made it. Things that exist now, are in them
selves no more important, than the like things, in time
past, or in time to come : yet, it is evident, that the con
sideration of things being present, at least in most cases,
especially affects human nature. For instance, if a man
could be certainly informed, that his dear child at a dis
tance was now under some extreme suffering ; or, that an
absent most dear friend was at this time thinking of him,
and in the exercise of great affection towards him, or in
the performance of some great deed of friendship ; or, if a
pious parent should know that now his child was in the
act of some enormous wickedness ; or that, on the contrary,
he was now in some eminent exercise of grace, and in
the performance of an extraordinary deed of virtue and
piety ; would not those things be more affecting to human
nature, for being considered as things at the present time,
than if considered as at some distance, of time, either past
or future ? Hundreds of other instances might be men
tioned wherein it is no less plain, that the consideration of
the present existence of things, gives them advantage to
affect the minds of men. Yea, it is undoubtedly so with
things in general, that take any hold at all of our affec
tions, and towards which we are not indifferent. And if
the mind of a particular child of God is disposed to be
affected by the consideration of the religion of other saints,
and of their union and concurrence with him in any par
ticular duty or act of religion, I can see no reason why the
human mind should not be more moved by the object of
its affection, when considered as present, as well in this
case, as in any other case : yea, I think, we may on good
grounds determine there is none.
Nor may we look upon it as an instance ofthe peculiar
weakness of human nature, that men are more affected with
things considered as present, than those that are distant :
but it seems to be a thing common to finite minds, and so
to all created intelligent beings. Thus, the angels in
heaven have peculiar joy, on occasion of the conversion of
a sinner, when recent, beyond what they have in that
which has been long past. If any therefore shall call it
silly and whimsical in any, to value and regard such a
circumstance, in things of religion, as their existing at the
present time, so as to be the more affected with them for

that ; they must call the host of angels in heaven a parcel
of silly and whimsical beings.
I remember, the Spectator, (whom none will call a whim
sical author,) somewhere speaking of different ways of deal
friends mutually expressing their affection, and maintain
ing a kind of intercourse, in absence one from another,
mentions such an instance as this, with much approbation,
viz. That two friends, who were greatly endeared one to
another, when about to part, and to be for a considerable
time necessarily absent, that they might have the comfort
of the enjoyment of daily mutual expressions of friendship
in their absence; agreed that they would, every day, pre
cisely at such an hour, retire from all company and busi
ness, to pray for one another. Which agreement they so
valued and so strictly observed, that when the hour came,
scarce any thing would hinder them. And rather than
miss this opportunity, they would suddenly break off con
versation, and abruptly leave company they were engaged
with. — If this be a desirable way of intercourse of particu
lar friends, is it not a desirable and amiable way of main
taining intercourse and fellowship between brethren in
Christ Jesus, and the various members of the holy family
of God, in different parts of the world, to come into an
agreement, that they will set apart certain times, which
they will spend with one accord, in extraordinary prayer
to their heavenly Father, for the advancement of the king
dom, and the glory of their common dear Lord and Sa
viour, and for each other's prosperity and happiness, and
the greatest good of all their fellow-creatures through the
world 1
Some perhaps may suppose, that it looks too much like
Pharisaism, when persons engage in any such extraordi
nary religious exercises, beyond what is appointed by
express institution, for them thus designedly to make it
manifest abroad in the world, and so openly to distinguish
themselves from others. But all open engagement in ex
traordinary exercises of religion, not expressly enjoined by
institution, is not Pharisaism, nor has ever been so reputed
in the christian church. As when a particular church or
congregation of Christians agree together to keep a day of
fasting and prayer, on some special occasion ; or when
public days of fasting and thanksgiving are kept, through
out a christian province or country : and though it be
ordinarily the manner for the civil magistrate to lead in
setting apart such days ; yet that alters not the case : if it
be Pharisaism in the society openly to agree in such ex
traordinary exercises of religion, it is not less Pharisaism,
for the heads of the society leading in the affair. And if
the civil magistrate was not of the society of Christians,
nor concerned himself in their affairs ; yet this would not
render it the less suitable for Christians, on proper occa
sions, jointly, and visibly one to another, to engage in such
extraordinary exercises of religion, and to keep days of
fasting and thanksgiving by agreement.
It cannot be objected against what is proposed in the
Memorial, that it would look like affecting singularity, and
open distinction from others in extraordinary religion, like
the Pharisees of old : because it is evident the very design
of the Memorial is not to promote singularity and distinc
tion, but as much as possible to avoid and prevent it. The
end of the Memorial is not to limit the thing proposed, that
it may be practised only by a few, in distinction from the
generality ; but on the contrary to make it as general among
professing Christians as possible. Some had complied
with the extraordinary duty proposed, and therein had
been distinguished from others, for two years, before the
Memorial was published ; and they were more distinguish
ed than they desired ; and therefore sent abroad this Me*
morial, that the practice might be more spread, and become
more general, that they might be less distinguished. What
they evidently seek, is to bring to pass as general a com
pliance as possible of Christians of all denominations, en
treating, that the desire qf concurrence and assistance, con
tained in the Memorial, may by no means be understood as
restricting to any particular denomination or party, or
those who are of such or such opinions about any former
instances qf remarkable religious concern; but to be extend
ed to all, who shall vouchsafe any attention to the proposal,
and have at heart the interest of vital Christianity, and the
power qf godliness : and who, however differing about other

Sect. III.

SUCH AGREEMENT NOT PREMATURE.

299

things, are convinced of tlie importance if fervent prayer,
to promote that common interest, and of scripture persua
sives, to promote such prayer.

sect. in.
That such agreement is premature, answered.
Another objection, very likely to arise in the minds of
. many against such extraordinary prayer for the speedy
coming of Christ's kingdom, is, that we have no reason to
expect it, till there first come a time of most extreme cala
mity to the church, and a prevalence of her antichristian
enemies against her; even that which is represented in
Rev. xi. by the slaying of the witnesses; but have reason
to determine the contrary.
It is indeed an opinion that seems pretty much to have
obtained, that before the fulfilment of the promises relating
to the church's latter-day glory, there must come a most
terrible time, a time of extreme suffering, and dreadful
persecution of the church of Christ ; wherein Satan and
antichrist are to obtain their greatest victory over her, and
she is to be brought lower than ever by her enemies. This
opinion has chiefly risen from the manner of interpreting
and applying the fore-mentioned prophecy of the slaying of
the witnesses ; and must needs be a great hinderance, with
regard to such an affair as is proposed to us in the Memo
rial. If persons expect no other, than that the more the
glorious times of Christ's kingdom are hastened, the sooner
will come this dreadful time, wherein the generality of
God's people must suffer so extremely, and the church of
Christ be almost extinguished, and blotted out from under
heaven ; how can it be otherwise than a great damp to
their hope, their courage and activity, in praying for, and
reaching after the speedy introduction of those glorious
promised times ? As long as this opinion is retained, it
will undoubtedly ever have this unhappy influence on the
minds of those that wish well to Zion. It will tend to
damp and keep down joyful expectation in prayer ; and
even in great measure to prevent all earnest, animated, and
encouraged prayer, in God's people, for this mercy, at any
time before it is actually fulfilled. For they who proceed
on this hypothesis in their prayers, must, at the same time
that they pray for this glorious day, naturally conclude
within themselves, that they shall never live to see on
earth any dawning of it, but only the dismal time that shall
precede it ; in which the far greater part of God's people
who shall live till then, shall die under the extreme cruel
ties of their persecutors. And the more they expect that
God will answer their prayers, by speedily bringing on the
promised glorious day, the more must they expect them
selves to have a share in those dreadful things, that nature
shrinks at, and also expect to see what a renewed nature
dreads ; even the prevailing of God's enemies, and the
almost total extinction of true religion in the world. And
on this hypothesis, these discouragements are like to attend
the prayers of God's people, till that dismal time be actu
ally come : and when that is come, those who had been
prophesying and praying in sackcloth, shall generally be
slain : and after that time is over, then the glorious day
shall immediately commence. So that this notion tends to
discourage all earnest prayer in the church of God for that
glorious coming of Christ's kingdom, till it be actually
come ; and that is to hinder its ever being at all.
This opinion being of such hurtful tendency, it is a
thousand pities it should be retained, if truly there be no
good ground for it. Therefore in answer to this objection,
I would, with all humility and modesty, examine the
foundation of that opinion, of such a dreadful time of
victory of antichrist over the church, yet to be expected :
and particularly shall endeavour to show that the slaying
of the witnessed, foretold, Rev. xi. 7—10. is not an event
that remains yet to be fulfilled.— To this end, I would
propose the following things to consideration.
1. The time wherein the witnesses lie dead in the streets
of tlie great city, doubtless, signifies the time wherein the
true church of Christ is lowest of all, most of all prevailed
against by antichrist, and nearest to an utter extinction ;
the time wherein there is left the least visibility of the
church of Christ yet subsisting in the world, least remains

of any thing appertaining to true religion, whence a revival
of it can be expected, and wherein all means of it are most
abolished, and the state of the church is in all respects
furthest from any hopes of its ever flourishing again. For
before this, the witnesses prophesy in sackcloth ; but now
they are dead : before this, they were kept low indeed, yet
there was life, and power to bring plagues on their ene
mies, and so much of true religion left, as to be a conti
nual torment to them. But now their enemies rejoice and
feast, have a general public triumph, as having obtained a
full victory over them. They have now entirely extirpated
them, are completely delivered from them, and from all
that might give them any fear of being troubled with them
any more. This time, wherever it be fixed, doubtless, is
the time, not only wherein fewest professors of the true
religion are left in the world ; but a time wherein the truth
shall be farthest out of sight, and out of reach, and most
forgotten ; wherein there are left fewest beams of light, or
traces of truth, fewest means of information, and opportu
nities of coming to the knowledge of the truth ; and so a
time of the most barbarous ignorance, most destitute of all
history, monuments, and memory of things appertaining to
true religion, or things the knowledge of which hath any
tendency to bring truth again to light ; and most destitute
of learning, study, and inquiry.
Now, if we consider the present state of mankind, is it
credible that a time will yet come, exceeding, in these
respects, all times before the reformation ? and that such
a time will come before the fall of antichrist, unless we
set that at a much greater distance, than the farthest that
any have yet supposed ? It is next to impossible, that
such a change should be brought about in so short a time :
it cannot be without a miracle. In order to it, not only
must the popish nations so prevail, as utterly to extirpate
the protestant religion through the earth ; but must do
many other things, far more impossible for them to effect,
in order to cover the world with so gross and confirmed a
darkness, and to bury all light and truth in so deep an
oblivion, and so far out of all means and hopes of a revival.
And not only must a vast change be made in the pro
testant world, but the popish nations must be strangely
metamorphosed ; and they themselves must be terribly
persecuted by some other power, in order to bring them to
such a change : nor would persecution without extirpation
be sufficient for it. If there should be another universal
deluge, it might be sufficient to bring things to such a
pass ; provided a few ignorant barbarous persons only
were preserved in an ark : and it would require some
catastrophe not much short of this to effect it.
2. At the reformation, in the days of Luther, Calvin,
and others their contemporaries, the threatened destruction
of antichrist, the dreadful enemy that had long oppressed
and worn out the saints, was begun. Nor was it a small
beginning ; for antichrist hath fallen, at least half-way to
the ground, from that height of power and grandeur he
was in before. Then began the vials of God's wrath to
be poured out on the throne of the beast, to the great shak
ing of its foundations, and diminution of its extent ; so
that the pope lost near half of his former dominions : and
as to degree of authority and influence over what is left,
he is not possessed of what he had before. God now at
length, in answer to the long-continued cries of his people,
awakened as one out of sleep, and began to deliver his
church from her exceeding low state, under the great
oppression of this grand enemy, and to restore her from her
exile and bondage in the spiritual Babylon and Egypt. It
is not agreeable to the analogy of God's dispensations,
that after this he should desert his people, hide himself
from them even more than before, leave them more than
ever in the hands of their enemy ; and is it credible that
all this advantage of the church against antichrist should
be entirely given up and lost, his power and tyranny be
more confirmed, the church more entirely subdued than
ever before, and further from all help and means of re
covery ? This is not God's way of dealing with his people,
or with their enemies. His work of salvation is perfect :
when he has begun such a work he will carry it on : when
he once causes the day of deliverance to dawn to his
people, after such a long night of dismal darkness, he will
not extinguish the light, and cause them to return again to

300

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Part III.

midnight darkness. When he has begun to enkindle the
blessed fire, he will not quench the smoking flax, till he
hath brought forth judgment unto victory. When once
the church, after her long and sore travail, has brought
forth her man-child, and wrought some deliverance, her
enemies shall never be able to destroy this child, though
an infant ; but it shall ascend up to heaven, and be set on
high out of their reach.
The destruction that God often foretold and threatened
to ancient Babylon (which is often referred to in the revela
tion, as a great type of the antichristian church) was gradu
ally accomplished, by various steps at a great distance of i
time one from another. It was begun in the conquest of
Cyrus ; and was further accomplished by Darius, about
eighteen years after, by a yet greater destruction, wherein
it was brought much nearer to utter desolation ; but it was
about two hundred and twenty-three years after this, before
the ruin of it was perfected, and the prophecies against it
fully accomplished, in its being made an utter and perpetual
desolation, without any human inhabitant, becoming the
dwelling-place for owls, dragons, and other doleful crea
tures. But yet when God had once begun to destroy her,
he went on till he finished, and never suffered her any
more to recover and establish her former empire. So the
restitution of the Jewish church, after the Babylonish
captivity, was by various steps ; there were several times
of return of the Jews from captivity, and several distinct
decrees of the Persian emperors, for restoring and rebuild
ing Jerusalem, and re-establishing the Jewish church and
state. It was also done in turbulent times ; there were
great interruptions, checks, and violent oppositions, and
times wherein the enemy did much prevail. But yet when
God had once begun the work, he also made an end ; he
never suffered the enemies of the Jews to bring Jerusalem
to such a state of desolation as it had been in before, till
the promised restoration was complete. Again, the de
liverance of God's church from the oppression of Antiochus
Epiphanes,(another known type of antichrist,) was gradual ;
they were first assisted a little by the Maccabees ; after
wards, the promised deliverance was completed in the
recovery of Jerusalem, the restoration of the temple, the
miserable end of Antiochus, and the consequent more full
deliverance of the whole land. But after God once began
to appear for the help of his church in that instance,
though it had seemed dead and past all hope, he never
suffered Antiochus to prevail to that degree again. The
utmost strength of this great monarch was used, from time
to time, in order to it, and his vast empire was engaged
against a handful that opposed them ; yet God never
forsook the work of his own hands ; when he had begun
to deliver his people, he also made an end. And so
Haman, that proud and inveterate enemy of the Jews,
who thought to extirpate the whole nation, (who also was
probably another type of antichrist,) when he began to
fall before Esther and Mordecai, never stayed, till his
ruin and the church's deliverance were complete; Ha
man 's wife speaks of it as an argument of his approaching
inevitable full destruction, that he " had begun to fall,"
Esth. vi. 16.
3. If antichristian tyranny and darkness should hereafter
so prevail against the protestant church — the true religion
and every thing appertaining to it — as to bring things to
the pass fore-mentioned, this would not so properly answer
the prophecy of slaying the two witnesses ; for doubtless,
one reason why they are called two witnesses, is, that the
number of witnesses for the truth was (though sufficient
yet) very small. This was remarkably the case in the dark
times of popery ; but since the reformation, the number of
those appearing on the side of true religion has not been so
small. The visible church of Christ has been vastly large,
in comparison of what it was before. The number of pro
testants has sometimes been thought nearly equal to that of
the papists; and, doubtless, the number of true saints has
been far greater than before.
4. It seems to be signified in prophecy, that after the
reformation antichrist should never prevail against the
church of Christ any more, as he had done before. I can
not but think, that whoever reads and well considers what
the learned Mr. Lowman has written on the five first vials,
(Rev. xvi.) in his late exposition on the Revelation, must

think it to be very manifest, that what is said (ver. 10.) of
the pouring out of the fifth vial on the throne qf the beast
(for so it is in the original) is a prophecy of the reforma
tion. Then the vial of God's wrath was poured out on the
throne of the beast, i. e. according to the language of
Scripture, on his authority and dominion, greatly to weak
en and diminish it, both in extent and degree. But when
this is represented in the prophecy, then it is added, " and
his kingdom was full of darkness, and they gnawed their
tongues for pain." If we consider what is commonly in
tended by similar phrases in the Scripture, I think we shall
be naturally, and as it were necessarily, led to understand
those words thus : their policy, by which heretofore they
have prevailed, shall now fail them ; their authority shall
be weakened, their dominion greatly diminished, and all
their subtlety shall not avail them to support the throne of
the beast, or even again to extend his authority so far as it
had been before extended, and to recover what is lost. All
their crafty devices to this end shall be attended with vexa
tious, tormenting disappointment ; they who have the ma
nagement ofthe beast s kingdom, shall henceforward grope
as in the dark, and stumble, and be confounded in their
purposes, piots, and enterprises. Formerly their policy was
greatly successful, as a light to guide them to their ends ;
but now their kingdom shall be full of darkness, and their
wisdom shall fail them in all their devices to subdue the
church of God.
The Scripture takes notice of the great policy and
subtlety ofthe powers that support this kingdom, Dan. vii.
8. " And behold, in this horn were eyes like the eyes of a
man." So it is said of Antiochus Epiphanes, that great
type of antichrist, Dan. viii. 23. " A king of fierce coun
tenance, and understanding dark sentences, shall stand up."
Ver. 25. " And through his policy also, shall he cause craft
to prosper in his hand." This understanding and policy is
the light of this kingdom, as true wisdom is the light of
the spiritual Jer-usalem ; and therefore, when the light fails,
then may the kingdom of this spiritual Egypt be said to be
full of darkness. God henceforward will defend his people
from these mystical Egyptians, as he defended Israel of old
from Pharaoh and his host, when pursuing after them, by
placing a cloud and darkness in their way, and so not suf
fering them to come nigh. He will protect his church
from the men of that city that is spiritually called Sodom, as
Lot's house, wherein were the angels, was defended from
the men of Sodom, by their being smitten with darkness or
blindness, so that they wearied themselves to find the door ;
and as God defended the city in which was Elisha, the
prophet and witness of the Lord, from the Syrians, when
they compassed it about with horses and chariots, and a
great host, to apprehend him, by smiting them with blind
ness. The Scripture teaches us, that God is wont in this
way to defend his church and people from their crafty and
powerful enemies ; Job v. 11, &c. " To set up on high those
that be low, that those which mourn may be exalted to
safety : he disappointed! the devices of the crafty, so that
their hands cannot perform their enterprise : he takelh the
wise in their own craftiness, and the counsel of the froward
is carried headlong : they meet with darkness in the day
time, and grope in the noon-day as in the night ; but he
saveth the poor from the sword, from their mouth, and from
tbe hand of the mighty." (See also Psal. xxxv. 4, 6.) On
account of such defence of God's protestant church, with
the disappointment and confusion of all the subtle devices,
deep-laid schemes, and furious attempts of their antichris
tian enemies, to root them out, while they see them still
maintaining their ground, in spite of all they do, it makes
them as it were gnash their teeth, and bite their tongues for
mere rage and vexation; agreeably to Psal. exxii. 9, 10.
" His righteousness endureth for ever, his horn shall be
exalted with honour : the wicked shall see it and be griev
ed, and gnash with his teeth and melt away : the desire of
the wicked shall perish."
Hitherto this prophecy has been very signally fulfilled ;
since the reformation, the kingdom of antichrist has been
remarkably filled with darkness in this respect. Innumer
able have been the crafty devices and great attempts of the
church of Rome, wherein they have exerted their utmost
policy and power, to recover Iheir lost dominions, and
again to subjugate the protestant nations — the northern

Sect. III.

SUCH AGREEMENT NOT PREMATURE.

301

heresy, as they call it. They have wearied themselves in
these endeavours for more than two hundred years past ;
but have hitherto been disappointed, and have often been
strangely confounded. When their matters seemed to he
brought to a degree of ripeness, and they triumphed as
though their point was gained, their joy and triumph have
suddenly turned into vexation and torment. How many
have been their politic and powerful attempts against the
protestant interest in our nation, in particular ! And how
wonderfully has God disappointed them from time to time !
And as God has hitherto so remarkably fulfilled his word
in defending his protestant church from antichrist, so I
think we have ground to trust in him, that he will defend
it to the end.
5. The hypothesis of those who suppose that the slaying
of the witnesses yet remains to be fulfilled, makes the pro
phecies of the Revelation to be inconsistent one with another.
According to their hypothesis, that battle (Rev. xi. 7.)
wherein the beast makes war with the witnesses, overcomes,
and kills them, is the last and greatest conflict between
antichrist and the church of Christ, which is to precede the
utter overthrow of the antichristian kingdom. And they
must suppose so ; for they suppose that immediately after
the sufferings the church shall endure in that war, she
shall arise, and as it were ascend into heaven ; i. c. as they
interpret it, the church shall be directly advanced to her
latter-day rest, prosperity, and glory. And consequently,
this conflict must be the same with that great battle be
tween antichrist and the church, described chap. xvi. 1 3, to
the end, and more largely chap. xix. 11, to the end. For
that which is described in these places, is most indisputably
the greatest and last conflict between the church and her
antichristian enemies ; on which the utter downfall of anti
christ, and the church's advancement to her latter-day
glory, shall be immediately consequent. And so the earth
quake that attends the resurrection of the witnesses, chap.
xi. 13. must be the same with that great earthquake de
scribed, chap. xvi. 18. And the falling of the tenth part
of the city must be the same with that terrible and utter
destruction of antichrist's kingdom, chap. xvi. 17, to the end.
But these things cannot be. The battle, chap. xi. 7.
cannot be the same with that last and great battle between
the church and antichrist, described, chap. xvi. and xix.
For the things that are said of one and the other, and their
issue, are in no wise consistent. In that battle, chap. xi. the
church of God conflicts with her enemies in sorrow, sack
cloth, and blood : but in the other the matter is represented
exceedingly otherwise ; the church goes forth to fight with
antichrist, not in sackcioth and blood, but clothed in white
raiment, Christ himself before them, as their captain,
going forth in great pomp and magnificence, upon a
" white horse, and on his head many crowns, and on his
vesture and on his thigh a name written, King qf kings
and Lord qf lords." And the saints who follow so glorious
a leader to this great battle, follow him on " white horses,
clothed in fine linen, white and clean," in garments of
strength, joy, glory, and triumph ; in the same kind of
raiment that the saints appear in, when they are repre-
* Compared with chap. xix. 16. and following verses, and chap. xvi. 16, 17.
t Here if any one shall say, that the ascension of the witnesses into
heaven in the sight of their enemies, may, as has more generally been sup
posed, signify the church's last victory and triumph over her antichristian
enemies, and final deliverance from them — and yet the battle between an
tichrist and the witnesses, spoken of, Rev. xi. 7. wherein the witnesses are
slain, may not be the same with the last and greatest battle between anti
christ and the church, chap. xvi. and xix. which immediately precedes and
issues in the church's final victory and deliverance — they will say that
which the prophecies give no reason, nor allow any room, to suppose. That
last battle between the church and antichrist, wherein Christ and his people
obtain a complete victory, is evidently one of the greatest and most remark
able events foretold in all the Apocalypse t and there is no one thing, unless
it be the consummation of all things, in the two last chapters, that is de
scribed in so solemn and august a manner. And the description shows that
it is an event which with its circumstances must take up much time. There
is vast preparation made for it by the church's enemies : the devils, in
order to stir men up, and gather them together, to this " battle of that great
day of God Almighty, go forth unto the kings of the earth and of the whole
world," to propagate various kinds of delusions, far and wide, all over the
world ; which, undoubtedly, must take up many years' time ; chap. xvi. 13,
14. And then great preparation is made in the church of God, to make op
position ; chap. xix. 11 — 17. Now can any reasonably suppose, in what is
represented, chap. xi. of a great conflict between antichrist and God's
people — wherein the latter are overcome and slain, lie dead three days for
three years) and a half, their enemies triumphing over them : but yet, ris
ing again from the dead in the midst of this triumph of their enemies, and
ascending into heaven, while the enemies stand astonished and amazed
spectators — that before they ascend they continue long to encounter with
antichrist in a new conflict ? For, is it not plain that herein their enemies,

sented as triumphing with Christ, with palms in their
hands, chap. vii. 9. And the issue of the latter of these
conflicts is quite the reverse of the former. In the battle,
chap. xi. 7. " The beast makes war with the witnesses,
and overcomes them, and kills them : " the same is foretold,
Dan. vii. 21. "I beheld, and the same horn made war
with the saints, and prevailed against them." And Rev.
xii. 7. " And it was given unto him to make war with
the saints, and to overcome them." But in the issue of
that last and great battle, which the church shall have
with her antichristian enemies, the church shall overcome
them, and kill them ; Rev. xvii. 14. " These shall
make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb shall overcome
them ; for he is Lord of lords, and King of kings ; and they
that are with him, are called, and chosen, and faithful."*
In the conflict that the beast shall have with the wit
nesses, the " beast kills them, and their dead bodies lie
unburied ; " as though they were to be meat for the beasts
of the earth, and fowls of heaven : but in the last battle,
it is represented that Christ and his church " shall slay
their enemies, and give their dead bodies to be meat for
the fowls of heaven." (Chap. xix. 17, &c.) There is no
appearance, in the descriptions given of that last great bat
tle, of any advantages gained in it by the enemies of the
church, before they themselves are overcome ; but all ap
pearance of the contrary. The descriptions in the 16th and
1 9th chapters of the Revelation will by means allow of such
an advantage, as overcoming God's people, and slaying
them ; their lying dead for some time, and unburied, that
their dead bodies may be for their enemies to abuse, tram
ple on, and make sport with. In chap. xvi. we read
of their being gathered together against the church, a
mighty host, into the place called Armageddon ; and then
the first thing we hear of, is, the pouring out of the seventh
vial of God's wrath, and a voice saying, " It is done." And
so in the 19th chap, we have an account of the " beast, and
the kings of the earth, and their armies, being gathered to
gether to make war against him that sat on the horse, and
against his army." And then the next thing we hear of,
is, that the " beast is taken, and with him the false pro
phet ; and that these are both cast alive into the lake of
fire ; and that the remnant of their vast army are slain, and
all the fowls filled with their flesh." The issue of the con
flict of the beast with the witnesses, in the triumph of the
church's enemies over God's people, looking on them as en
tirely vanquished, and their interest utterly ruined, past ail
recovery ; " they that dwell on the earth shall see the dead
bodies of the saints lying in the streets of the great city,
and shall rejoice over them and make merry, and send
gifts one to another." But the issue of that great and last
battle is quite the reverse ; it is the church's triumph over
her enemies, as being utterly and for ever destroyed .f
Upon the whole, I think there appears to be no reason
from the prophecy concerning the two witnesses, Rev. xi.
to expect any such general and terrible destruction of the
church of Christ, before the utter downfall of antichrist,
as some have supposed ; but good reason to determine the
contrary, lt is true, there is abundant evidence in Scrip-
after long time to prepare, should engage with them with vastly greater
preparations, strength, and violence than Before, and should wage war with
them with the mightiest army that ever was gathered against the church,
and in the greatest battle that ever was fought ?
Besides, the witnesses ascending into heaven in the sight of their enemies,
spoken of, chap. xi. cannot be the same with the church's gaining a glorious
ascendant over her enemies, in her final victory over antichrist, spoken of,
chap. xvi. xix. because the descriptions of the events by no means answer
each other. For, observe, it is said, that when the witnesses " arose, and
stood on their feet, and ascended into heaven, the same hour there was a
great earthquake ;" but this does not seem to answer to what is described,
chap. xvi. 18. "And there were voices, and thunders, and lightnings, and
there was a great earthquake, such as was not since men were upon the
earth, so mighty an earthquake and so great" It was said, that, at the
time of the first earthquake, fchap. xi. f3.) " the tenth part of the city
fell :" but how far does this fall short of what is described, as attending the
great earthquake! fchap. xv. 19, 20.) "And the great city was divided
into three parts, and the cities of the nations fell ; and great Babylon came
into remembrance before God, to give unlo her the cup of the wine of the
fierceness of his wrath, and every island fled away, and the mountains were
not found." It is said of the earthquake, chap. xi. "And in the earthquake
were slain of men seven thousand : " but how far is this from answering
the slaughter described, chap. xix. 17, & c. ! For that is represented as a ge
neral slaughter of the kings, captains, mighty men, horses, and armies of the
earfh, and of the whole world ; so that all the fowls that fly in the midst of
heaven, as far as the sun shines, are filled wirh the flesh of the dead car
casses, it being the " flesh of all men, both free and bond, both small and
great." fCompare chap. xvi. 14.) Who can think, that this great slaughter,
thus represented, should in chap. xi. be only called a " slaying seven thou
sand men ? "

302

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part III.

ture, that there is yet remaining a mighty conflict between
the church and her enemies — the most violent struggle of
Satan and his adherents in opposition to true religion, and
the most general commotion that ever was in the world,
since the foundation of it to that time — and many particu
lar Christians may suffer hard things in this conflict. But
in the general, Satan and antichrist shall not get the victo
ry, nor greatly prevail ; oji the contrary, they shall be en
tirely conquered, and utterly overthrown, in this great
battle. So that I hope this prophecy of the slaving ofthe
witnesses, will not stand in the way of a compliance with
the proposal made to us in the Memorial, as a prevalent
objection and discouragement.

SECT. IV.
That the fall of antichrist is at a great distance, answered.
A very learned and ingenious expositor of the Revela
tion, Mr. Lowman, sets the fall of antichrist, and conse-
If we read this very eleventh chapter through, we shall see that the fall
ing of the tenth part of the city, and the witnesses arising and ascending into
heaven, are entirely distinct from the final destruction of antichrist, and that
advancement of the church to her latter-day glory, that is consequent upon
it. The judgments here spoken of, as executed on God's enemies, are under
another woe ; and the benefits bestowed on the church, are under another
trumpet. For immediately after the account ofthe rising and ascending
of the witnesses, the tenth part of the city falling, and the slaying of the
seven thousand men, the affrighting of the rest, and their giving glory to
the God of heaven, follow these words, (ver. 14, 15.) "The second woe
is past ; and behold the third woe cometh quickly. And the seventh angel
sounded ; and there were great voices in heaven, saying;, The kingdoms of
this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ, and he
shall reign for ever and ever." And in the following verses we have an ac
count of the praises sung to God on tbis occasion. And then in that last
verse, we have a brief hint of that same earthquake, the great hail, and
those thunders, lightnings, and voices, that we have an account of in the
latter part of chap. xvi. so that the earthquake mentioned in the last verse
of chap. xi. is that great earthquake that attends the last great conflict of the
church and her enemies ; and not that mentioned ver. 13.
The three woes, are the woes of God on antichrist and bis subjects ; and
the last of them evidently signifies the terrible judgments of God on anti
christ, by which God's wrath upon him shall be fulfilled in his utter de
struction. But the calamities on antichrist, attending the rising and
ascending of the witnesses— such as the falling of the tenth part of the city,
and slaying seven thousand men— do not belong to this last woe, and there
fore do not signify the final destruction of antichrist For the words of ver.
14. wiil by no means allow of such a supposition ; for there, immediately
after giving an account of these calamities, it is added, " tbe second woe is
past; and behold, the third woe cometh quickly:" making a most plain
and express distinction between the calamities which had already been just
mentioned, and those which belong to the third woe, that yet remain to be
mentioned. For by being passed, the prophet is to be understood no other
wise, than passed, in the declaration and representation; as much as to
say, thus an account has been given of the calamities upon antichrist that
belong to tbe second woe ; now I proceed to give an account of those dis
pensations of providence that belong to the third and last woe, which shall
prove antichrist's final destruction, and end in the kingdoms of this world
becoming the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ
What was fulfilled in the reformation, well answers the representation
made concerning the witnesses. Rev. xi. 1 1, 12. " Ofthe spirit of life from God
entering into them, and their standing on their feet, and ascending up to
heaven, in the sight of their enemies. A little before tbe reformation, the
state of the church of God and of true religion was lowest of all, and near
est to utter extinction. Antichrist had, after great and long struggles, pre
vailed against the Waldenses, Albigenses, and Bohemians. The war with
the Albigenses seems especially to be intended by the war of the beast with
the witnesses spoken of ver. 7. These witnesses to the truth, were the
most numerous and considerable, and were those that most tormented the
church of Rome. And the war that was maintained against them, was by
far the greatest that ever antichrist had against any ofthe professors of tbe
truth, before the reformation ; and was properly the war of the beast It
was the pope that proclaimed the war, that raised the soldiers by his
emissaries and priests, preaching the cross, gathering innumerable multi
tudes of pilgrims from all parts of Christendom, and raising one Croisade
after another, which were conducted and managed by the pope's legates.
It was the pope that paid the soldiers with pardons, indulgences, promises
of paradise, and such like trumpery. When antichrist had gradually pre
vailed against these witnesses, with much difficulty and long-continued,
violent struggling, and after innumerable vexations, disasters, and disap
pointments ; the church of God, in the time of Luther and other reformers,
revives on a sudden, in a wonderful manner, when such an event was least
expected, to the surprise and amazement of their antichristian enemies, and
appears in such strength, that the reformed are able to stand on their own
legs, and to withstand all the power and rage of the church of Rome. Pre
sently after this revival, the people of God are set on high, having the civil
magistrate in many countries on their side, and henceforward have the
power of many potent princes engaged for their protection. And this, in sight
of their enemies, and greatly to their grief and vexation ; who, though from
time to time they exert their utmost, never are able to prevail against them
any more, as they had done in former wars. Oftentimes in Scripture, God's
church dwelling in safety, out of the reach of their enemies, is represented by
their dwelling on high,or being set on high, as Psal. lix. 1. lxix. 29. xci. 14. cvii.
41. Prov. xxix. 25. Isa. xxxiii. 16. The children of Israel, in their deliver
ance out of Egypt from their cruel task-masters, who would fain have
brought them into bondage again, were said to be " carried on eagle's wings,"
which flies away towards heaven ; so that the Egyptians could not come at
them ; and they were protected by the cloud that went with them ; as tbe
witnesses are said to be caught up to heaven in a cloud. Compare this
with Isa. iv. 5. " And the Lord will create upon every dwelling-place of
mount Zion, and upon her assemblies, a cloud and smoke by day, and the
shining of a flaming fire by night; for upon all the glory shall be a de
fence." I shall not pretend to explain the mystery of the three days and a half
of the witnesses lying dead, or to determine the precise duration signified by
that mystical representation. Possibly no particular measure of time may

quently the coming of Christ's kingdom, at a great dis
tance; supposing fhat the twelve hundred and sixty years
of antichrist's reign did not begin till the year seven hun
dred and fifty-six ; and consequently, that it will not end
till after the year two thousand; and this opinion he con
firms by a great variety of arguments.
If this objection be allowed to be valid, and that which
ought to determine persons in an affair of this nature, in
connexion with the duty before proved, then the following
things must be supposed ; viz. That it is the will of God
his people be much in prayer for this event ; and particu
larly, that a little before its accomplishment his people be
earnestly seeking, and importunately crying to God for it ;
but yet that it was God's design, before this time of extra
ordinary prayerand importunity, his church should under
stand precisely when the appointed time should be; and
that accordingly he has now actually brought the fixed
time to light, by means of Mr. Lowman. But is it reason
able to suppose, that this should be God's manner of
dealing witn his church; first to make known to them the
precise time which he has unalterably fixed for showing
be intended by it; and yet it may not be without significancy:* as no par
ticular number of persons is intended by the two witnesses, but in general
it intends a small yet a sufficient number — for less than two witnesses was
not sufficient — so, perhaps, no particular duration of that low state of the
church before the reformation, may be intended by three days and a half.
But in general it may be hereby signified, that this time of the triumphing
of the wicked, and extremity of God's church, should be but short. Pos
sibly, three days and a half may be mentioned, because that is the utmost
space of time that a dead body can be ordinarily supposed to lie without
putrefaction ; signifying that at this time the church should be brought to
the very brink of utter ruin, yet should be preserved, and made to revive
again. And half a day may be mentioned to signify the particular care of
Providence iu exactly determining this time of his church's extremity.
And probably there may be some reference to the three times for three
years) and a half of the witnesses prophesying in sackcloth; the more
apparently to show the disproportion between the time of the church's wel
fare, and the time of her enemies' victory and triumph. The time of the
church's affliction and conflict may be long, and in the issue she may be
overcome ; but the time of this victory shall be but short in comparison
with the other, but as a day to a year. She may as it were be killed, and
lie dead, till she comes to the very brink of utter and hopeless ruin ; yet
God will not suffer her to see corruption. But at that very time when her
enemies expected that she should putrify, she shall rise ; and be set on high,
out of their reach, greatly to their astonishment.
The grand objection against all this, is, that it is said, The witnesses should
prophesy twelve hundred and sixty days clothed in sackcloth ,¦ and when
they have finished their testimony, the beast should make war against
them, and kill them, $c. And it seems manifest, that after this they are no
longer in sackcloth; for henceforward they are in an exalted state in"
heaven : therefore, seeing the time of their wearing sackcloth is twelve
hundred and sixty days, which is the time of the continuance of antichrist ;
hence their being slain and rising again must be at the conclusion of this
period, and so at the end of antichrist's reign.
In answer to which I would say, that we can justly infer no more from
this prophecy than this. viz. That the twelve hundred and sixty days is the
proper time of the church's trouble and bondaae, or being clothed in sack
cloth; because it is the appointed time of the reign of antichrist. But this
does not hinder, but that God, out of his great compassion to his church,
should in some respect shorten the days, and grant that she should, in some
measure, anticipate the appointed great deliverance that should be at the
end of those days. This he has in fact done at the reformation ; whereby
the church has had a great degree of restoration granted, from the darkness
and power of antichrist, before her proper time, whieh is at tho end of the
tioelve hundred and sixty days. Thus the church of Christ, through tbe
tender mercies of her Father and Redeemer, in some respects anticipates
her deliverance from her sorrows and sackcloth : as many parts ofthe church
are hereby brought from under the dominion of tlie antichristian powers,
into a state of power and liberty ; though in other respects, the church may
be said to continue in sackcloth, and in the wilderness, till the ends of the
days ; many parts of it still remaining under grievous persecution.
What we render, When they shall have finished their testimony, Mr.
Lowman (from Mr. Daubuz)" renders. While they shall perform their
testimony : and observes, that the original may mean tbe time of their tes
timony, as well as the end of it. I might here observe, that we have other
instances of God shortening the days of liis church's captivity and bondage,
either at the beginning or end, very parallel with what has been now sup
posed in the case of "the witnesses. Thus the proper time of predicted
bondage to the posterity of Abraham in Egypt was four hundred years ;i
Gen. xv. 13. But yet God in mercy deferred the beginning of their bond
age ; whereby the time was much shortened. So the time wherein it was
foretold, that the whole land of Israel should be a desolation and an astonish
ment, and the land should enjoy her sabbatlis, by tbe Babylonish captivity,
was seventy years ; (Jer. xxv. 11, 12.) and these seventy years are dated
(2 Chron. xxxvi. 20, 21.) from Zedekiali's captivity ; and yet, from that cap

tivity to Cyrus's decree, was but fifty-two years; though it was indeed
seventy years before the more full restoration of the Jewish church and
state by Darius's decree, Ezra vi. So the proper time of the oppression

and bondage of tho Jewish church under Antiochus Epiphanes, wherein
both the sanctuary and host should be trodden vnder foot by him, was
two thousand three hundred days; Dan. viii. 13, 14. The time from An-
tiochus's taking Jerusalem, and polluting the sanctuary, to his death, seems
to have been about so long. But God shortened tbe days, by granting re
markable help to his people by means of the Maccabees, before that time.
Yea, the temple and sanctuary were restored, and the altar rebuilt, and
dedicated, before that period.
* Mr. Lowman, in the preface to his paraphrase on the Revelation, page
8. observes as follows : "Prophetic numbers do not always express a de
terminate duration, or space of time, any more than they always express a
certain number. Prophecy, I acknowledge, uses numbers sometimes, as
other expressions, in a figurative meaning, as symbols and hieroglyphics.
Thus the number seven sometimes does not denote the precise number
seven ; but figuratively denotes perfection, or a lull and complete number .
and the number ten sometimes does not mean precisely ten in number, but
many in generator a considerable number."

Sect. IV..

THE FALL OF ANTICHRIST NOT VERY DISTANT.

303

this mercy to Zion, and then make it the duty of his
church, in an extraordinary manner, to be by prayer inquir
ing of him concerning it, and saying, " How long, Lord !"
that he would come quickly, hide himself no longer, have
mercy upon Zion, awake as one out of sleep, openly
manifest himself, and make bare his holy arm for the sal
vation of his people ? That " they who make mention of
the Lord should not keep silence, nor give him any rest,
till he establish and make Jerusalem a praise in the earth ? "
And that the church should then say to Christ, " Make
haste, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart
on the mountain of spices V
It may be many wavs for the comfort and benefit of
God's church in her afflicted state, to know that the reign
of antichrist is to be no more than one thousand two hun
dred and sixty years ; and some things in general may be
argued concerning the approach of it, when it is near :
as the Jews could argue the approach of Christ's first
coming, from Daniel's prophecy of the seventy weeks,
though they knew not precisely when that seventy weeks
would end. But it is not reasonable to expect that God
should make known to us beforehand the precise time of
Christ's coming in his kingdom. The disciples desired to
know this, and manifested their desire to their Lord ; but
lie told them plainly, that " it was not for them to know
the times and seasons, which the Father hath put in his
own power;" (Acts i. 6, 7.) and there is no reason to
think that it is any more for us than for them ; or for
Christ's disciples in these days any more than for his
apostles in those days. God makes it the duty of his
church to be importunately praying for it, and praying that
it may come speedily ; and not only to be praving for it,
but to be seeking for it, in the use of proper means ; en
deavouring that religion may now revive every where, and
Satan's kingdom be overthrown ; and always to be waiting
for it, being in a constant preparation for it, as servants
that wait for the coming of their Lord, or virgins for the
coming of the bridegroom, not knowing at what hour he
will come. But God's making known beforehand the
precise time of his coming, does not well consist with
these things.
It is the revealed will of God, that he should be inquired
of by his people, by extraordinary prayer, concerning this
great mercy, to do it for them, before it be fulfilled. And
if any suppose, that it is now found out precisely when the
time is to be, and (the time being at a considerable dis
tance) that now is not a proper season to begin this extra
ordinary prayer, I would, on this supposition, ask, When
we shall begin ? How long before the fixed and known
time of the bestowment of this mercy comes, shall we
begin to cry earnestly to God that this mercy may come,
and that Christ would make haste and be like a roe, &c.
For us to delay, supposing that we know the time to be far
off", is not agreeable to the language of God's people in my
text, " Come, let us go speedily, and pray before the Lord,
and seek the Lord of hosts."
I acknowledge that Mr. Lowman's Exposition of the
Revelation is, on many accounts, excellently written,
giving great light into some parts of that prophecy ; and
especially his interpretation of the five first vials ; yet his
opinion with respect to the time, times, and half a time of,
antichrist's reign, is the less to be regarded, because it is
expressly declared it should be sealed up and hid, and not
known till the time of the end of this period. Daniel, m
the last chapter of his prophecy, gives us an account, how
the angel told him of a future time of great trouble and
affliction to the church of God, and then said to him, ver.
4. " But thou, 0 Daniel, shut up the words, and seal the
book, even to the time qf the end. ' And then the prophet
proceeds to give an account of a vision he had of one
earnestly inquiring of the angel of the Lord how long it
would be to the end of this remarkable time ofthe church's
# Mr. Lowman's own words in his preface, p. 24, 25. are here worthy to be
repeated -. "It will (says he) ever be a point of wisdom, not to be over-busy
or over-confident in any thing, especially in fixing periods of time, or deter
mining seasons ; which it may be are not to be determined, it may be are
not fit to be known. It is a maxim of greater wisdom than is usually
thought, ' Seek not to know what should not be revealed.' Such are
many future events. The precise time of oar Saviour's coming to judg
ment was notxevealed, because not fit to be revealed. The uncertainty of
his appearance was of greater service to preserve a care of religion, than
the revelation of it would have been ; for the uncertainty itself gives many
useful exhortations : ' Watch, for ye know not what hour the Son of man

trouble, saying, " How long shall it be to the end of these
wonders V' ver. 5, 6. The answer was, that " it should be
for a time, times, and an half," and that when so long a
time was past, then this wonderful affliction and scattering
of the holy people should be finished, ver. 7. But then
Daniel tells us, in the next verse, that " he heard, but he
understood not," and said, " 0, my Lord, what shall be
the end of these things ?" He did not understand that
general and mystical answer, that those things should have
an end at the end of " a time, times, and an half ;" he did
not know by it, when this period would have an end : and
therefore he inquires more particularly what the time of
the end was. But the angel replies, ver. 9. " Go thy way,
Daniel, the words are closed and sealed up, till the tinie
of the end." 1 do not know what could have been more
express. The angel gently rebukes this over-inquisitiveness
of Daniel, very much as Christ did a like inquisitiveness
of the disciples concerning the same matter, when he said
to them, " It is not for you to know the times and seasons,
that the Father hath put in his own power."
I think there can be no doubt but that this space of the
church's great trouble, about the end of which Daniel
inquires, is the same with what is spoken of, chap. vii. 25.
and Rev. xii. 14. as the time of antichrist's reign, and the
church's being in the wilderness ; and not merely the time
ofthe church's troubles by Antiochus Epiphanes. But we
see, when Daniel has a mind to know particularly when this
time would come to an end, he is bid to go away, and rest
contented in ignorance of this matter : for, says the man
clothed in linen, the words ore closed rip, and sealed, till the
time of the end. That is, very plainly, the matter that you
inquire about, shall not be known, but kept a great secret,
till the time of the end actually comes, and all attempts to
find it out before shall be in vain. And therefore when
a particular divine appears, who thinks he has found it out,
and has unsealed this matter, we may well think he is
mistaken .*
Though it is not for us to know the precise time of the
fall of antichrist, yet I humbly conceive that we have no
reason to suppose the event principally intended in the
prophecies of antichrist's destruction to be at so great a
distance, as Mr. Lowman places it ;. but have reason to
think it to be much nearer. Not that I would set up my
self as a person of equal judgment with Mr. Lowman in
matters of this nature. As ne differs from most other
approved expositors of the Apocali/pse in this matter ; so
I hope it will not appear vanity and presumption in me to
differ from this particular expositor, and to agree with the
greater number. And since his opinion stands so much in
the way of that great and important affair, to promote
which is the very end of this whole discourse, I hope it
will not look as though I affected to appear considerable
among the interpreters of prophecy, and as a person of
skill in these mysterious matters, when I offer some reasons
against Mr. Lowman's opinion. It is surely great pity
that it should be received as a thing clear and abundantly
confirmed, that the glorious day of antichrist's fall is at so-
great a distance, so directly tending to discourage all earnest
endeavours after its speedy accomplishment, unless there
be good and plain ground for it. I would therefore offer
some things to consideration, which I think may justly
make us look upon the opinion of this learned interpreter
not so indubitable, as to hinder our praying and hoping
for its being fulfilled much sooner.
The period of antichrist's reign, as this author has fixed
it, seems to be the main point insisted on in his Exposition
of the Revelation ; which he supposes a great many things
in the scheme of prophecies delivered in that book concur
to establish. But there are several things in that scheme
which appear to me justly liable to exception.
Whereas it is represented, Rev. xvii. 10, 11. that there
are seven different successive heads of the beast ; that five
cometh.' Suppose then some of the events described in this prophecy should
be of doubtful application — suppose the precise time of the downfall of tbe
beast, the slaying and resurrection of the witnesses, and the beginning of
the thousand years' happy state of the church, should not be so determined,
but it would admit cf different calculations ; may it not be wise, and there
fore fit, it should be so ? The certainty of those events in a proper time,
though that time should not be precisely determined, will answer tbe greater
ends of useful instruction. And if the revelation should go no further than
this, it would yet be a revelation of great benefit and advantage ; as the
certainty of the day of judgment in its proper time surely is, though of that.
day and hour knoweth no man "

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were past, and another was to come, and to continue a
short space, that might on some accounts be reckoned a
seventh ; and that antichrist was to follow next after this,
as the eighth ; but yet the foregoing not being properly one
of the heads of the beast, he was properly the seventh.
Mr. Lowman does not think with others.that by the seventh
that was to continue a short space, which would not be
properly one of the heads of the beast, is meant Constan
tine, and the other christian emperors ; for he thinks they
are reckoned as properly belonging to the sixth head of
the beast ; but that hereby is intended the government of
Rome under the Gothic princes, and the exarchate of
Ravenna, after the imperial form of government in Rome
ceased in Augustulus, till the pope was invested with his
temporal dominion, called St. Peter's patrimony, by Pepin
king of France, in the year 756. And he supposes, that
the wounding of one of the heads of the beast with a
sword of death, chap. xiii. 3 — 14. was not fulfilled in the
destruction of the heathen empire, and the giving of the
imperial power unto Christians, but in the destruction of
the imperial form of government by the sword of the
Goths, in the time of Augustulus. But it seems to me to
be very unlikely, that the Spirit of God should reckon
Constantine and the christian emperors as proper members,
and belonging to one of the heads of that monstrous wild
and cruel beast, compared to a leopard, a bear, and a de
vouring lion, that had a mouth speaking great things and
blasphemies, and that rules by the power and authority of
the dragon, or the devil ;* which beast is represented in
this 17th chapter, as full of names of blasphemy, and of
a bloody colour, denoting his cruelty in persecuting the
christian church. For Constantine, instead of this, was a
member of the christian church, set by God in the most
eminent station in his church ; and was honoured, above
all other princes that ever had been in the world, as the
great protector of his church, and her deliverer from the
persecuting power of that cruel scarlet-coloured beast.
Mr. Lowman himself styles him a christian prince, and
protector of the christian religion. God is very careful
not to reckon his own people among the Gentiles, the
visible subjects of Satan, Numb, xxiii. 9. " The people
shall not be reckoned among the nations." If they happen
to be among them, he will be careful to set a mark upon
them, as a note of distinction ; Rev. vii. 3, &c. when God
is reckoning up his own people, he leaves out those that
have been noted for idolatry. As among the tribes that
were sealed, Rev. viii. those idolatrous tribes of Ephraim
and Dan are left out, and in the genealogy of Christ,
Matt. i. those princes that were chiefly noted for idolatry
are left out. Much more would God be careful not to
reckon his own people, especially such christian princes as
have been the most eminent instruments of overthrowing
idolatry, amongst idolaters ; and as members and heads of
that kingdom that is noted in Scripture as the most notori
ous and infamous of all, for abominable idolatry, oppo
sition and cruelty to the true worshippers of God. And
especially not to reckon them as properly belonging to one
of those seven heads of this monarchy, of which very
heads it is particularly noted that they had on them the
names of blasphemy ; (Rev. xiii. 1.) which Mr. Lowman
himself supposes to signify idolatry.
It was therefore worthy of God, agreeable to his manner,
and might well be expected, that when he was reckoning
up the several successive heads of this beast, and Con
stantine and his successors came in the way, and there was
occasion to mention them, to set a mark, or note of dis
tinction, on them, signifying that they did not properly
belong to the beast, nor were to be reckoned as belonging
to the heads ; and therefore are to be skipped over in the
reckoning ; and antichrist, though the eighth head of the
Roman empire, is to be reckoned the seventh head of the
beast. This appears to me abundantly the most just and
natural interpretation of Rev. xvii. 10, 11. It is reason
able to suppose, that God would take care to make such
a note in this prophetical description of this dreadful
beast, and not by any means to reckon Constantine as
belonging properly to him. — If we reckon Constantine as
a member of this beast having seven heads and ten horns,
* The word Therion, signifies a wild savage beast, as Mr. Lowman

described chap. xvii. and as properly one of his heads,
then he was also properly a member of the great red
dragon with seven heads and ten horns, that warred with
the woman, chap. xii. — For the seven heads and ten horns
of that dragon are plainly the same with the seven heads
and ten horns of the beast. So that this makes Constan
tine a visible member of the devil ; for we are told ex
pressly of that dragon, ver. 9. that he was that old serpent,
called the devil ana Satan. And to suppose that Constan
tine is reckoned as belonging to one of the heads of that
dragon, is to make these prophecies inconsistent with
themselyes. For in the 1 2th chapter, we have represented
a war between the dragon and the woman clothed with
the sun ; which woman, as all agree, is the church ; but
Constantine, as all do also agree, belonged to the woman,
was a member of the christian church, and was on that
side in the war against the dragon ; yea, was the main
instrument of that great victory obtained over the dragon,
(ver. 9 — 12.) What an inconsistency therefore is it, to
suppose that he was at the same time a member and head
of that very dragon which fought with the woman, and
yet which Constantine himself fought with, overcame, and
gloriously triumphed over ! It is not therefore to be won
dered at, that God was careful to distinguish Constantine
from the proper heads of the beast : it would have been a
wonder if he had not. God seems to have been careful
to distinguish him, not only in his word, but in his provi
dence, by so ordering it that this christian emperor snould
be removed from Rome, the city which God had given up
to the seat of the power of the beast and of its h,eads, and
that he should have the seat of his empire elsewhere.
Constantine was the instrument of giving a mortal wound
to the heathen Roman empire ; and giving it a mortal
wound in its head, viz. the heathen emperors then reigning,
Maxentius and Licinius. But more eminently was this
glorious change in the empire owing to the power of God's
word, the prevalence of the glorious gospel, by which
Constantine himself was converted, and so became the
instrument of the overthrow of the heathen empire in the
east and west. The change that was then brought to pass,
is represented as the destruction of the heathen empire, or
the old heathen world ; and therefore seems to be com
pared to that dissolution of heaven and earth that shall be
at the day of judgment. (Rev. vi. 12, &c.) And therefore
well might the heathen empire under the head which was
then reigning, be represented as wounded to death, (chap.
xiii. 3.) It is much more likely, that the wound the beast
had by a sword in his head, (ver. 14.) was the wound the
heathen empire had in its head by that sword which (chap.
i. 16. and xix. 15.) proceeds out of the mouth of Christ,
than the wound that was given to the christian empire and
emperor by the sword of the heathen Goths. It is most
likely that this deadly wound was by that sword with
which Michael made war with him, and overcame him,
and cast him to the earth, (chap. xii. 9.) and that the
deadly wound was given him at that very time. It is
most likely, that the sword which gave him this deadly
wound, after which he strangely revived, as though he rose
from the dead, was the same sword with that which shall
at last utterly destroy him, so that he shall never rise more,
.(chap. xix. 15, 19, 20, 21.) This wounding of the head
of the beast by the destruction of the heathen empire, and
conversion of the emperor to the christian truth, was a
glorious event indeed of divine providence, worthy to be
so much spoken of in prophecy. — It is natural to suppose,
that the mortal wounding of the head of that savage cruel
beast, represented as constantly at war with the woman,
and persecuting the church of Christ, should be some
relief to the christian church ; but on the contrary, that
wounding to death, that Mr. Lowman speaks of, was the
victory of the enemies of the christian church over her,
and the wound received from them.
It is said of that head of the empire that shall be next
after the sixth head, and next before antichrist, and that is
not reckoned as properly one of the number of the heads
of the beast, that "when it comes, it shall continue a short
space," chap. xvii. 10. By which we may understand, at
least, that it shall be one of the shortest, in its continu-
bimself observes, page 167.

Sect. IV.

THE FALL OF ANTICHRIST NOT VERY DISTANT.

305

ance, of the successive heads. But the government seated
at Ravenna, in the hands of the Goths, or of the deputies
of the Greek emperors, (which Mr. Lowman supposes to
be meant by the head,) continued, as Mr. Lowman him
self takes notice, very near three hundred years. And if
so, its continuance was one of the longest of the heads
mentioned. Besides, if the government Rome was under, from the
time that Augustulus abdicated to the time when the pope
was confirmed in his temporal dominion, was meant by
the seventh head that was to be between the imperial head
and the papal, there would doubtless have been two dif
ferent heads mentioned, instead of one, between the em
peror and the pope ; viz. First, the Gothic princes, who
reigned near one hundred years. Secondly, the exarchs
of Ravenna, who governed for about one "hundred and
eighty-five years. The Gothic kingdom was much more
properly a distinct government from the imperial, than the
exarchate of Ravenna. For during the exarchate, Rome
was under the government of the emperor, as much as it
was in Constantine's time.
In Rev. xvii. 12. it is said, the "ten horns are ten kings,
which are to receive power as kings one hour with the
beast,*7 or (as Mr. Lowman says it ought to have been
translated) the same hour or point qf time with the beast.
This will not allow the time when antichrist first receives
power as Icing, to be so late as Mr. Lowman supposes.
This division of the empire into many kingdoms, denoted
by the number ten, was about the year four hundred and
fifty-six, after Genesericus had taken the city of Rome :
but Mr. Lowman places the beginning of the reign of
antichrist in the year seven hundred and fifty-six, which is
* Rev. xviii. 10, 17, 19. Chap. iii. 3, 10. viii. 1. ix. 15. xiv. 7.
t Dan. iii. 6. iv. 33. v. 5. Matt. viii. 13. x. 19. Luke vii. 21. xii. 12. xx.
19. xxiv. 33. Johniv. 53. Actsxvi. 18, 33. xxii. 13. Rev. xi. 13.
| Ver. 10, 17, 19.
§ Mr. Lowman greatly insists upon it, that what is spoken as continuing
one thousand two nundred and sixty days, is not so much any spiritual
authority or ecclesiastical power of the pope over the nations of Christen
dom, as his temporal government and dominion in that individual city of
Rome ; and therefore to determine when these one thousand two hundred
and sixty days or years began, and when they will end, we must consider
when the pope first received this his temporal power over the city of
Rome, and the neighbouring regions, called St Peters patrimony. But I
can see no good reason for this. Indeed it is strange if it be so. God has
been pleased in the revelations and prophecies, which he has given for the
benefit of his church in general, to speak much concerning an antichristian
power that should persecute the saints, and scatter the power of the holy
people, and be an occasion of great affliction to the church of Christ ; and
has declared often, that his dominion shall continue so long, and no longer;
and for the comfort of his church in general, Christ hath sworn with great
solemnity, that the continuance of this persecuting power shall be limited ;
Dan. xii. 7. Now it would be strange, if in all this the thing principally in
tended is not that dominion of this antichristian power which chiefly con
cerns the church of Christ in general, but merely his temporal dominion
over one province in Italy, called St Peter9 s patrimony. Doubtless, that
dominion of antichrist which the prophecies describe, is the dominion whose
duration and limits those prophecies declare. But the dominion of antichrist
which the prophecies describe, is not any dominion over a particular pro
vince in Italy, but the dominion by which he succeeds the four great mon
archies of the world; (Dan. vii.) the dominion by which he succeeds the
dragon in his power, throne, and great authority ; (Rev. xiii. 2.) the do
minion in which he has power given him over all kindreds, tongues, and
nations ; (ver. 7.) the dominion by which the great whore sits on many
watt rs ; (chap. xvii. 1 . ) which the angel explains to be peoples and multi
tudes and nations and tongues ; (ver. 15.) and the dominion in which he
reigns over the ten kings, into which the Roman empire is divided ; (Rev.
xiii. I. and xvii. 3, 12, 13.) The beast that had ten horns, is not the city of
Rome, and the neighbouring region, but the Roman empire ; they are the
horns, or the kings, not of the city, but of the empire. If we consider
what is expressed^ in the passages themselves, which speak of the three
years and a half of antichrist, they will lead us to understand something
very diverse from the duration of his temporal dominion over St. Peter's
patrimony. In Dan. vii. 25. the time, times, and half, ofthe little horn, is
expressly the continuance of time wherein it shall be given to him to change
times and laws, and wear out the saints of the Most High : and in chap.
xii. 7. it is spoken of as the time of his scattering the power of the holy
people. In Rev. xi. 2. the forty and two months is spoken of as the time of
antichrist's treading under foot the court of the temple and the holy city :
i. _ . the external and visible christian church abroad in the world, or the
nations of Christendom. In ver. 3. the one thousand two hundred and sixty
days of antichrist arc spoken of as the time ofthe witnesses prophesying in
sackcloth ; and in chap. xii. 6, and 14. the time of the woman's being in the
wilderness, which was through the great power antichrist had over the
christian world, and not his small temporal dominion in Italy.
It is true, some regard is had in the prophecies to the city of Rome, the
city built on seven huls : which being the fountain of all rule and authority
in the Roman monarchy, and the capital city of the empire, from whence
the whole empire was denominated, and the place where the head ofthe
empire usually resided, was properly used by the angel, (Rev. xvii, 9, 18.)
to show what empire antichrist should rule over, and what city he should
usually reside in. And this is all that can be meant by the words of the
angel; and not that those streets and walls were such main and essential
things in what the prophecy intended by the beast ; that when antichrist's
dominion ceases in that place, then the beast ceases. For, if so, then it
will follow, that the beast had his head wounded to death a second time,
and ceased to be, when the popes resided at Avignon in France, for the
best part of a century ; when not only the popes did not reside in Rome,
nor any part of St. Peter's patrimony, nor any part of Italy ; but some of
them were neither Romans, nor Italians. Though the angel says of the
groat whore, Rev. xvii. 18. " The woman which thou sawest, is the great
VOL. II. X

three hundred years later. 1 know, such an expression as
in one hour, or the same hour, may allow of some latitude ;
but surely not such a latitude as this. This is a much
longer time than it was from the time of the vision to
Constantine ; much longer than the space of all the first
six seals ; longer than it was from Christ's ascension to
Constantine ; and near as long as the time of all the
reigns of the heathen emperors put together, from Augus
tus Ca?sar to Constantine. An hour is every where else
in this book used to signify a very short time ; as may be
seen in places cited in the margin.* And the expression,
The same hour, every where else in the Bible, intends near
the same point of time.f The phrase one hour is used
several times in the next chapter, speaking of the downfall
of antichrist ; J and in each evidently signifies a very short
space of time. And there is no reason why we should not
understand the same phrase in the same sense, when used
here concerning the rise of antichrist.§
However, I do not deny that the time when Mr.
Lowman supposes the reign of the beast began, even the
time when Pepin confirmed to the pope his temporal do
minions in Italy, was a time of the great increase and
advancement of the power of antichrist in the world, and
a notable epoch. And if I may be allowed humbly to
offer what appears to me to be the truth with relation to
the rise and fall of antichrist ; it is this :— As the power of
antichrist, and the corruption of the apostate church, rose
not at once, but by several notable steps and degrees ;
so it will IN THE like manner fall : and, that DIVERS
steps and seasons of destruction to the spiritual Ba
bylon, and revival of the true church, are prophesied of
under one. And yet it may be true, that there is some
city which reigns over the kings ofthe earth:" yet by the city, in this case,
is not meant so much what was contained within those Roman walls, as the
Roman empire ; as is evident by chap. xi. 8. ** And their dead bodies shall
lie in the street of the great city, which is spiritually called Sodom and
Egypt." Here, by that great city, neither Mr. Lowman himself, nor I sup-
pose any other protestant interpreter, understands ihe city of Rome, strictly
speaking, butthe Roman monarchy.
And though it be true, as Mr. Lowman observes, the pope's ecclesiastical
monarchy, power, and influence through Christendom, was greatly esta
blished and advanced by Pepin making him a temporal prince over the
exarchate of Ravenna ; yet, I would ask, whether the pope's power and
influence in the world, and his ability to disturb the quiet of the nations of
Christendom, and (as expressed in Daniel) to change times and laws, and
to carry his own designs, in the various countries and kingdoms of Europe,
was not greater before Pepin, than it is now, and has been for a long time ?
And yet Mr. Lowman supposes that now is properly the time of antichrist's
reign, that the 1260 years of his reign continues, and will continue for about
270 years longer ; though his power he now so small, and has been declining
ever since the reformation, and still declines continually.
One thing Mr. Lowman supposes, which confirms his opinion of so late a
beginning ofthe 1260 years of the reign of the beast, is the order of the
several periods of this prophecy, and the manner of their succeeding one
another. As to his particular scheme ofthe seven periods, so divided and limited,
and so obviously ranked in such order, and following one another in such
direct and continual succession, and each ending in a state of peace, safety,
and happiness to the church of God, it seems to me to be more ingenious than
solid, and that many things might be said to demonstrate it not to be founded
in the truth of things, and the real design of the divine author of this pro
phecy. Butnot to enterinto a particular and full examination of it, I would
now only observe, which directly concerns my present purpose, that to
make out this scheme, Mr. Lowman supposes that the fifth and sixth trum
pets, that bring on the two first woes, and the whole 9th chapter of Revela
tion, altogether respects the Saracens. Rat it appears lo me not very-
credible, that the Saracens should have so much said of them in this
prophecy, as to have a whole chapter taken up about them, and not a word
m the prophecy be said about the Turks, who immediately succeeded them
in the same religion ; who proceeded on the same principles, were so much
more considerable, brought vastly greater calamities on the christian world,
have set up and long maintained one of the greatest, strongest, and most
extraordinary empires that ever the world saw, and have been the most
terrible scourge to Christendom that ever Divine Providence made use of,
and one of the greatest of all God's plagues on the world of mankind. For
thoughit be true, that the reign of Othman or Ottoman, who began what
they call the Ottoman empire, was a long rime after this ; yet tho Turks
themselves, under other pnnces, in the government they setup in territo
ries that had formerly been possessed by Christians, and in their over
running and ravaging christian countries, immediately succeeded the Sara
cens ; and from thenceforward have been a terrible, and almost continual,
scourge to the church.
Mr. Lowman, in pursuance of his scheme, also supposes, which is yet
more incredible, this period of the trumpets ends in a state of safety, peace,
and happiness to the church of God, so that, on that occasion, " there are
great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the
kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ," chap. xi. 15.* And yet he sup
poses, that it issues in setting up the kingdom of antichrist ; and that about
lhat very time, when these heavenly voices so joyfully proclaimed this,
the beast was enthroned, and the time, times, and half, or 1260 days of his
reign began, which is spoken of every where as the time of the church's
greatest darkness and trouble, the time wherein the "little horn should wear
out the saints of the Most High," Dan. vii. 25. " The time appointed for his
scattering the power of his holy people," Dan. xii. 7. "The time of the
woman's being in tbe wilderness," Rev. xii. 6, 14. " The time of treading
under foot the court of the temple," chap. xi. 2. And " the time ofthe wit
nesses prophesying in sackcloth," chap. xi. 3.

* Preface of his paraphrase, &c. p. 13,14, and 16

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Part III.

particular event, which prevails above all others in the
intention of the prophecy, some remarkable season of the
destruction of the cnurch of Rome, the papal power and
corruption, and advancement of true religion.*
There are, as I apprehend, good reasons to hope, that
the work of God's Holy Spirit which in its progress will
overthrow the kingdom of antichrist, and in Us issue de
stroy S«to's visible kingdom on earth, will begin in a like
time. — The prophecy of the 6th vial, (Rev. xvi. 12 — 16.) if
we take it in its connexion with the other vials, and con
sider those providential events by which the preceding
vials have manifestly been fulfilled, I humbly conceive,
affords just ground for such a hope.
It is very plain, from this'whole chapter, as also the pre
ceding and following, that all these seven vials are vials of
God's wrath on antichrist ; one is not poured out on the
Jews, another on the Turks, another on pdgans, another
on the church of Rome; but they all signify God's suc
cessive judgments or plagues on the beast and his king
dom, which is in this chapter, and almost every where in
this book, called Great Babylon. And therefore un
doubtedly, when it is said, " The sixth angel poured out
his vial on the river Euphrates, and the water thereof was
dried up, that the way of the kings of the east might be
prepared ;" by the river Euphrates is meant something
some way appertaining to this mystical Babylon; as the
river Euphrates appertained to the literal Babylon. And
it is very manifest, that in the prophecy of this vial there
* It was certainly thus with regard to the prophecies of the destruction
of old Babylon, and the church's deliverance from captivity and oppression
by that city and kingdom ; which is abundantly alluded to in these prophe
cies of the Revelation, as a noted type of the oppression ofthe church of
Christ by the church of Rome, calling the latter so often by the name of
Babylon, and the;church of Christ, Jerusalem. The captivity of the Jewsby
the Babylonians was not perfected at once, but was brought on by several
notable steps. So neither was the restoration of the Jewish church, after
the captivity, perfected at once. It was several times foretold, that the dura
tion of the captivity should be seventy years ; and also that after seventy
years were accomplished, God would destroy Babylon ; (Jer. xxv. 11 , 12, &c.)
But this period had manifestly several different beginnings, and several end
ings. Thus from Jehoiakim '_ captivity to Cyrus's decree for the return of the
Jews, and the rebuilding of Jerusalem, was seventy years. And from
Zedekiah's captivity to Darius' s decree, (Ezra vi.) seventy years. And
from the last carrying away of all, (Jer. Iii. 30.) to tbe finishing and dedica
tion of tbe temple, was also seventy years. So also the prophecies of Baby
lon's destruction were fulfilled by several steps. These prophecies seem to
have a principal respect to that destruction that was accomplished by Cy
rus, at the end of the first seventy years fore -mentioned. But there were
other things in the very same prophecies not fulfilled till the fourth year of
Darius ; when what remained of Babylon was subject to ai.other dreadful
destruction. This in a great measure completed its desolation ; which was
at the end of the second seventy years, and when the restoration of the
Jews was perfected by the decree of Darius* But yet, there were many
other things contained in the same prophecies of Babylon's destruction —
rendering it thenceforward perfectly and perpetually desolate, and the
haunt of serpents and wild beasts— that were not fulfilled till more than
200 years after, in the time of Selevcus king of Syrian So also it was
with respect to tho prophecies of the destruction of Tyre, in the 26th,
27th, and 2Sth chapters of Ezekiel ; from which many of the expressions
used in Revelation, concerning the destruction of the kingdom of antichrist,
are taken, and which is evidently made use of in Scripture as a type of the
latter. These prophecies of the destruction of Tyre were fulfilled by vari
ous steps. Many things were fulfilled in the destruction of the old city by
Nebuchadnezzar ; J and yet otlier parts of the same prophecy were fulfilled
by Alexander ;§ which was about 240 years afterwards. And yet both
these desolations are prophesied of under one.
And thus it seems to me very probable, that it will prove, with respect to
the prophecies of tbe destruction of mystical Babylon. It is, I think, pretty
manifest by tho prophecies, that tbis antichristian hierarchy and apostate
church will at last be so destroyed, that there shall be no remainder of it
left, and shall have as perfect a desolation, -before God has done with her, as
old Babylon had ; there shall be no such thing as pope or church of Rome
in the world.|| It seems also pretty manifest, that after that event which is
chiefly intended in the prophecies of antichrist's destruction, 'the re will he
some remains of the Romish church. This appears by that most particular
and large description of that destruction. Rev. xviii. There it seems to be
implied, not only that many shall yet remain of the church of Rome, who
shall bewail her overthrow, of her people and clergy ; (ver. 11, 15, 17, 18.)
but that there should be some princes among them, " Kings of the earth,
that have committed fornication, and lived deliciously with her ;' (ver. 9,
10.) And it is exceeding improbable in itself, that every papist, in each
quarter of the world, should be destroyed, or cease from the world, at one
blow. And as long as so considerable a number remains, as maybe gathered
from the prophecy, they will doubtless have an hierarchy ; and one among
Ihem that will bear the name of a pope, although the church of Rome shall
be mainly destroyed, and the interest of popery shall be sunk very low in
tbe world. So that there will yet remain a papal church and hierarchy in
the world, to be wholly extirpated at another period, sometime after that
great overthrow principally insisted on in the prophecies. And this second
destruction of antichrist, or rather extirpation of his remains, togetherwith
tho complete extirpation of all remains of Mahometanism. heathenism, and
heresy through the world— and the finishing stroke towards the overthrow
of Satan's visible kingdom on earth, and so the beginning of the millenni
um, or spiritual rest of the world — may, for ought I know, be about the time
Mr. Lowman speaks of; agreeable to the opinion of the ancient Jews, and

* Prideaux'e Connection, part I. p.183, 184, and 267, 268, 269. Edit. 9. and
p. 271, and 272.
t Prid. Connect part I. p. 808-812. \ Ibid. 128,129, 130.
§ Ibid.p.693. || SeeRev. xviii. 21-23. and xix. 20, 21. Dan vii.26,27.

is'an allusion to that by which the wav was prepared for the
destruction of Babylon by Cyrus. This was done by turn
ing the channel of the riier Euphrates, which ran through
the midst of the city. Hereby the way of the kings of the
east, the princes of Media and Persia, was prepared to
come in, under the walls of the city, at each end, and to
destroy it; as they did that night wherein Daniel inter
preted the hand-writing on the wall, against Bclshazzar,
Dan. v. 30.
The prophecies of Babylon's destruction, from time to
time, take notice of this way of destroying her, by drying
up the waters of the river Euphrates, to prepare the way
for her enemies ; Isa. xliv. 27, 28. "That saith to the deep,
Be dry, and I will dry up thy rivers ; that saith of Cyrus,
He is my servant, and shall perform all my pleasure." Jer.
Ii. 31, 32. " One post shall run to meet another, to show
the king of Babylon that his city is taken at one end, and
that the passages are stopped, and the reeds they have
burnt with fire, and the men of war are affrighted." And
ver. 36. " I will dry up her sea, and make her springs dry."
The Modes and Persians, the people that destroyed Baby
lon, dwelt to the eastward of Babylon, and are spoken of
as coming from the east to her destruction ; Isa. xlvi. 11.
" Calling a ravenous bird from the east ; the man thatexe-
cuteth my counsel, from a far country." And the princes
that joined with this ravenous bird from the east, in this
affair of destroying Babylon, are called kings, Jer. li. 11.
"The Lord hath raised ( up the spirit of the kings of the
many christian diVines who have followed them, that the world would
stand six thousand years ; and then, the seventh thousand years should be
the world's rest or sabbath. The ruin of the popish interest is but a small
part of what is requisite, in order to introduce and settle such a state of
things, as the millennium described. For then, Rev. xx. Satan's visible
kingdom is every where totally extirpated, and a perfect end put to all here
sies, delusions, and false religions whatsoever, through the whole earth.
Satan thenceforth deceives the nations no more, and has no place any
where but iu hell.
Tbis is the sabbatism ofthe world ; when all shall be in a holy rest, when
the wolf shall dwell with the Iamb, and there shall be nothing to hurt or
offend; there shall be abundance of peace, the earth shall be full ofthe'
knowledge ofthe Lord as the waters cover the seas, and God's people shall
dwell in quiet resting-places. There is not the least reason to think, that
all this will be brought to pass as it were at one stroke ; or that, from the
presenflamentable state of things, there shall be brought about and com
pleted the destruction of the church of Rome — the entire extirpation of all
infidelity, heresies, superstitions, and schisms, through all Christendom — the
conversion of all the Jews, the full enlightening and conversion of all Maho-
mitan and heathen nations, through the whole earth — the full settlement
of all in the pure christian faitb and order— and all by means of the victory
ofthe church in one great conflict with her enemies. This would contra
dict many things in Scripture, which represent this great event to be
brought to pass by a. gradual progress of religion; as leaven that gradually
spreads, till it has diffused itself through the whole lump; and a plant of
mustard, which from a very small seed, gradually becomes a great tree ;
(Matt. xiii. 31, 32, 33.) " And like seed which a man casts upon the ground,
that springs and grows up, night and day ; and first brings forth the blade,
then the ear, then the full corn in the ear." And especially would this con
tradict the prophetical representation of Ezek. xlvii. where the progress of
religion is represented by the gradual increase of the waters of the sanc
tuary. At first, they are a small spring issuing out from under the threshold
of the temple ; then, after they had run a thousand cubits, they are up to
the ancles ; at the end of another thousand cubits, up to the knees ; at the
end of another thousand, up to the loins. Afterwards they become a great
river, that could not be passed over ; and are finally brought into the sen,
healing the waters even of the vast ocean.
If the Spirit of God should be immediately poured out, and that work of
God's power and grace should now begin, which in its progress and issge
should complete this glorious effect ; there must be an amazing and unparal
leled progress of the work and manifestation of divine power to bring so
much to pass, by the ye ar 2000. Would it not be a great thing to be accom -
plished in'one half-century, that religion, in the power and purity of it, should
so prevail, as to gain the conquest over all those many things "that stand in
opposition to it among protestants, and gain the upper hand through the
protestant world ? And if in another, it should go on so to prevail, as to get
the victory over all the opposition and strength of the kingdom of antichrist,
so as to gain tho ascendancy in that which is now the popish world ? And
if in a third half-century, it should prevail and subdue the greater part of
the Mahometan world, and bring in the Jewish nation, in all their disper
sions ? And would it not he wonderful if ii, the next whole century, the
whole heathen world should he enlightened, and converted to the christian
faith, throughout all parts of Africa, Asia, America, and Terra Australis,
nnd be thoroughly settled in christian faith and order, without any remain
ders of their old delusions and superstitions ; and this attended with an ut
ter extirpation of the remnant of the church of Rome, and all the relics of
Mahometanism, heresy, schism, and enthusiasm — a suppression of all re
mains of open vice and immorality, every sort of visible enemy to true re
ligion, through the whole earth — an end of all the unhappy commotions,
tumults, and calamities occasioned by such great changes— and all things
be so adjusted and settled that the world thenceforward should enjoy a
holy rest or sabbatism ?— I have thus distinguished what belongs to a
bringing of the world from its present state, to the happy state of the mil
lennium, the better to give a view of the greatness of the work ; and not,
that I pretend so much as to conjecture, that things will be accomplished
just in this order. The whole work is not the less great and wonderful, to
be accomplished in such a space of time, in whatever order the different
parts of it succeed each other. They that think that what has been men
tioned would not be swift progress, yea, amazingly swift, do not consider
how great the work is, and the vast and innumerable obstacles that are in
the way. ;lt was a wonderful thing, when the christian religion, after
Christ's ascension, so prevailed, as to get tbe ascendancy in the Roman
empire in about 300 years ; but that was nothing to this.

Sect. IV.

THE FALL OF ANTICHRIST NOT VERY DISTANT.

307

Medes; for his device is against Babylon to destroy it.''
Ver. 28. " Prepare against her the nations, with the kings
of the Medes, the captains thereof, and the rulers thereof." —
The drying of the channel of the river Euphrates, to pre
pare the way for these kings and captains of the east, to
enter into that city, under its high walls, was the last thing
done by the besiegers of Babylon, before her actual de
struction. In like manner, the sixth is the last vial but
one of God's wrath on the mystical Babylon ; and the
effect of it is the drying up ofthe channel, the last thing
done against it before its actual destruction by the seventh
vial. This opens the way for those who fight in a spiritual
war against it, speedily to bring on its ruin.
Hence I think it may without dispute be determined,
that by the river Euphrates in the prophecy of this vial, is
meant something appertaining to the mystical Babylon, or
the antichristian church and kingdom, that serves it, in a
way answerable to that in which the river Euphrates served
old Babylon, and the removal of which will in like man
ner prepare the way for the enemies to destroy her. , And
therefore what we have to do in the first place, in order to
find out what is intended by the river Euphrates in this
prophecy, is to consider how the literal Euphrates served
old Babylon. And it may be noted, that Euphrates was
of remarkable benefit to that city in two respects : it served
the city as a supply ; it was let through the midst of the
city by an artificial canal, and ran through the midst of
the palace of the king of Babylon ; that part of his palace
called the old palace, standing on one side, and the other
part called the neto palace, on the other ; with communica
tions from one part to another, above the waters, by a
bridge, and under the waters, by a vaulted or arched pas
sage ; that the city, and especially the palace, might be
plentifully supplied with water. Another way that the
waters of Euphrates served Babylon, was as an impediment
and obstacle in the way of its enemies, to hinder their access
to destroy it. For there was a \ast moat round the city,
without the walls, of prodigious width and depth, filled
with the water of the river, to hinder the access of her
besiegers : and at each end of the city, the river served
instead of walls. And therefore when Cyrus had dried
up the river, the moat was emptied, and the channel of
the river under the walls left dry ; and so his way was
prepared. Therefore it is natural to suppose, that by drying up the
waters of the river Euphrates, in the prophecy of the de
struction of the new Babylon, to prepare the way of her
enemies, is meant the drying up her incomes and supplies;
and the removal of those things which hitherto have been
the chief obstacles in the way of those who in this book
are represented as at war with her, and seeking her destruc
tion ; (Rev. xix. 11, to the end, and chap. xii. 7.) those
things which have hindered their progress and success, or
have been the chief impediments in the way of the protest
ant religion. Tne first thing is the drying of the streams
of wealth, the temporal supplies, revenues, and vast in
comes of the Romish church, and the riches of the popish
dominions. Waters in scripture language very often sig
nify provision and supplies, both temporal and spiritual.*
The temporal supplies of a people are very often in Scrip
ture called waters; as Isa. v. 13. " Therefore my people
is gone into captivity, and their honourable men are fa
mished, and their multitude dried up with thirst," i. e.
deprived of the supports and supplies of life. And the
drying up of the waters of a city or kingdom, is often used
in scripture prophecy for depriving them of their wealth,
as the Scripture explains itself, Hos. xiii. 15. " His spring
shall become dry, and his fountain shall be dried up ; he
shall spoil the treasure of all pleasant vessels." Isa. xv.
6, 7. " The waters of Nimrim shall be desolate ; for the
hay is withered ; the grass faileth ; there is no green thing.
Therefore the abundance they have gotten, and that which
they have laid up, shall they carry away to the brook of
the willows." The brook ofthe willows seems to refer to
the waters of Assyria or Chaldea, whose streams abounded
with willows. (Compare Psal. cxxxvii. 2.) So that the
carrying away of the treasures of Moab, and the adding of
them to the treasures of Assyria, is here represented by the

• See Prov. ix. 17.

Isa. xxxiii. 16. xliii. 20. Iv. 1. and lviii. 11.
X 2

figure of turning away the waters of Nimrim from the
country of Moab, and adding them to the waters of As
syria, as the prophecy explains itself. Yea, even in the
prophecies of the destruction of Babylon itself, the de
priving her of her treasures, seems to be one thing intend
ed by the drying up of her waters. This seems manifest
by the words of the prophecy in Jer. 1. 37, 38. " A sword
is upon her treasures, and they shall be robbed ; a drought
is upon her waters, and they shall be dried up." Com
pared with chap. li. 13. " O thou thatdwellest upon many
waters, abundant in treasures :" with ver. 36. " I will dry
up her sea, and make her springs dry." The wealth, re
venues, and vast incomes of the church of Rome, are the
waters by which that Babylon has been nourished and
supported ; these are the waters which the popish clergy
and members of the Romish hierarchy thirst after, and are
continually drinking down, with insatiable appetite; and
they are waters that have been flowing into that spiritual
city like a great river ; ecclesiastical persons possessing a
very great part of the popish dominions. Accordingly,
this Babylon is represented as vastly rich, in the prophecy
of the Apocalypse, especially in the 17th and 18th chap
ters. These are especially the waters that supply the
palace of the king of this new Babylon, viz. the pope ; as
the river Euphrates ran through the midst of the palace of
the king of old Babylon. The revenues of the pope have
been like waters of a great river, coming into his palace,
from innumerable fountains, and by innumerable lesser
streams, coming from many various and distant coun
tries. This prophecy represents to us two cities very contrary
the one to the other; viz. New Babylon and the New
Jerusalem, and a river running through the midst of each.
The New Jerusalem, which signifies the church of Christ,
especially in her best estate, is described as having " a river
running through the midst of it," Rev. xxii. 1, 2. This
river, as might easily be made most evident, by comparing
this with abundance of other scriptures, undoubtedly sig
nifies the divine supplies ; the rich and abundant spiritual
incomes and provision of that holy city. Mr. Lowman, in
his Exposition, says, It represents a constant provision
for the comfortable and happy life of all the inhabitants qf
this city qf God. And in his notes on the same place, He
observes as follows : " Water, (says he,) as nece.sary to
the support of life, and as it contributes in great cities,
especially in hot eastern countries, to the ornament of the
place, and delight ofthe inhabitants, is a very proper re
presentation of the enjoyment of aU things, both for the
support and pleasure of life." As the river that runs
through the new Jerusalem, the church of Christ, refreshing
that holy spiritual society, signifies their spiritual supplies,
to satisfy their spiritual thirst; so the river that runs
through the new Babylon, the antichristian church, that
wicked carnal society, signifies, according to the opposite
character of the city, her worldly, carnal supplies, to satisfy
their carnal desires and thirstings.
The new Jerusalem is called in this book the Paradise
qf God ; and therefore is represented as having the tree of
life growing in it, (chap. ii. 7. and xxii. 2.) And it being
described, as though a river ran through the midst of it,
there, seems to be some allusion to the ancient paradise in
Eden, of which we are told that there ran a river through
the midst of it to water it; (Gen. ii. 10.) i. e. to supply
the plants of it with nourishment. And this river was this
very same river Euphrates, which afterwards ran through
Babylon. And in one and the other, it represented the
divers supplies of two opposite cities. In Eden, it repre
sented the spiritual supplies and wealth of the true chris
tian church, in her spiritual advancement and glory ; (Rev.
xxii. 1, 2.) In the other, it represented the outward carnal
supplies of the false antichristian church, in her worldly
pomp and vain glory, (chap. xvi. 12.)
When the waters that supply this mystical Babylon
come to be dried up in this sense, it will prepare the way
for the enemies qf antichristian corruption, that seek her
overthrow. The' wealth of the church of Rome, and of
the powers that support it, is very much its defence. After
the streams of her revenues and riches are dried up, Ot
is, and 18. xvii. 8, and 13. and in other places innumerable.

308

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part III.

very greatly diminished, her walls will be a it were bro
ken down, and she will become weak and defenceless,
and exposed to easy ruin.*
As the river Euphrates served the city Babylon for sup
ply ; so, as before observed, it served as an impediment or
obstacle to hinder the access of its enemies : for there was
a vast moat round the city, filled with the water of the
river, which was left empty when Euphrates was dried up.
And therefore we may suppose, that another thing meant
by the effect of the sixth vial, is the removal of those
things which hitherto have been the chief obstacles to the
progress of true religion, and the victory of the church of
Christ over her enemies. These have been the corrupt
doctrines and practices which have prevailed in protestant
countries, the doubts and difficulties that attend many doc
trines of the true religion, and the many divisions and
contentions that subsist among protestants. The removal
of those would wonderfully prepare the way for Christ
and his armies to go forward and prevail against their
enemies, in a glorious propagation of true religion. So
that this vial, which is to prepare the way for Christ and
his people, seems to have respect to that remarkable pre
paring of the waif for Christ, by levelling mountains, exalt
ing valleys, drying up rivers, and removing stumbling-bfocks,
which is often spoken of in the prophecies, as what shall
next precede the church's latter-day glory ; (as Isa. xiii.
13, &c.) " The Lord shall go forth as a mighty man ; he
shall stir up jealousy as a man of war ; he shall prevail
against his enemies. — I will make waste mountains and
hills, and dry up all their herbs ; and I will make the
rivers islands, and I will dry up the pools ; and I will
bring the blind by a way that they know not, and I
will lead them in paths that they have not known ; I
will make darkness light before them, and crooked things
straight : these things will I do unto them, and not for
sake them/' (Chap. xl. 3 — 5.) " Prepare ye the way of
the Lord ; make straight in the desert a highway for our
God : every valley shall be exalted, and every moun
tain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be
made straight, and rough places plain ; and the glory of
* When Joab had taken that part of the city of Rabbah which was call
ed the city of icaters, whence the city had its supply of water, the foun
tains of the brook Jabbok being probably there— and which was also called
the royal city, probably because there the king had his palace and gardens,
on account of its peculiar pleasantness— the conquest of the rest of the city
was easy. His message to David implies, that the city now might be taken
at pleasure, (2 Sam. xii. 27,28.) It is possible that by the pouring out ofthe
sixth vial to dry up the riverof the mystical Babylon, there might be some
thing like the taking of the city of waters in Ratbah. Some chief one of
the popish powers— that has been the main strength and support of the
popish cause, or from whence that church has its chief supplies — may be
destroyed, or converted, or greatly reduced. But those events must deter
mine. In the prophecies of Egypt's destruction, it is signified, that when their
rivers and waters should be dried up, in that sense, that the streams of their
temporal supplies should be averted from them, their defence would be
gone ; Isa. xix. 4, &c. " The Egyptians will I give over into tho hand of a
cruel lord — and the waters shall fail from the sea, and the river shall be
wasted and dried up, and the brooks of defenceshntt be emptied and dried
up, and the reeds and flags shall wither ; — Every thing sown by the brooks
shall wither : the fishers also shall mourn."
Those whose way was prepared to come in and destroy Babylon, by dry
ing up the river Euphrates, were the army that was at war with Babylon,
Cyrus and his host, who sought her overthrow. There seems also to be all
reason to suppose, that those whose way will be prepared to destroy mystical
Babylon, by drying up the mystical Euphrates, are that king and army who
are m the book of Revelation represented as at war loith antichrist. And
whatking and army that is, we may see in chap. xii. 7. and xix. 11, to the end;
Michael the king of angels, and his angels ; he " whose name is called the
word of God," and " that has on his vesture and on his thigh a name written,
King of kings, and Lord of lords ; and the heavenly armies that follow him,
clothed in fine linen, white and clean." Cyrus, the chief of the kingsof the east,
that destroyed Babylon, redeemed God's church from thence, and restored
Jerusalem, seems in that particular affair very manifestly to be spoken of
as.a type of Christ. God calls him " his shepherd, to perform his pleasure,
to say to Jerusalem, Thou shalt be built, and to the temple, Thy founda
tion shall be laid," (Isa. xliv. 28.) God calls him his Messiah ; (chap. xiv.
1.) "Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, (in the original, to his Messiah,) to
Cyrus." He is spoken of as one " that God had raised up in righteousness,
that he might build his city, and freely redeem his captives, or let them go
without price or reward," (chap. xiv. 13.) He is said to be one whom
*' God had loved;" (chap, xlviii. 14.) as the Messiah is said to be " God's
elect, in whom his soul delighteth." As by Babylon, in the Revelation, is
meant that antichristian society which is typified by old Babylon ; so by
the kings of the east, that should destroy this antichristian church, must bo
meant those enemies of it who were typified by Cyrus, and other chieftains
of the east, that destroyed old Babylon ; viz. Christ, who was born, lived,
died, and rose in the east, together with those spiritual princes that follow
him, the principalities and powers in heavenly places, and those ministers
and saints that are kings and priests, and shall reign on earth; especially
those leaders and heads of God's people, those christian ministers and
magistrates, that shall be distinguished as public blessings to his chureh,
and chief instruments of the overthrow of antichrist.
t If any should object against understanding the river Euphrates, in Rev.
xvi. 12. as signifying what has been supposed, that in another place in this
prophecy, it is manifestly not so to be understood, viz. in chap. ix. 14. " Saying
to the sixth angel which had the trumpet, Loose the four angels which are
bound in the great river Euphrates .¦" and that there is no reason to under-

the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it toge
ther." (Chap. xi. 15, 16.) " And the Lord shall utterly
destroy the tongue of the Egyvtian sea, and with his
mighty wind shall he shake his hand over the river, and
shall smite it in the seven streams thereof, and make men
go over dry-shod : and there shall be an highway for the
remnant of his people which shall be left from Assyria,
like as it was to Israel, in the day that he came out of the
land of Egvpt." (Chap. lvii. 14.) " Cast ye up, cast ye
up, prepare the way, take up the stumbling-block out of
the way of my people." And, (chap. Ixii. 10.) " Go
through, go through the gates ; prepare ye the way of the
people; cast up, cast up the highway; gather out the
stones ; lift up a standard for the people." (Zech. x. 10 —
12.) " I will bring them again also out of the land of Egypt,
and gather them out of Assyria; and I will bring them
into the land of Gilead and Lebanon ; and place shall not
be found for them. And he shall pass through the sea
with affliction, and shall smite the waves of the sea; and
all the deeps of the river shall dry up ; and the pride of
Assyria shall be brought down, and the sceptre of
Egypt shall depart away : and I will strengthen them
in the Lord, and they shall walk up and down in his
name, saith the Lord. And it is worthy to be remarked,
that as Cyrus destroying Babylon, letting go God's cap
tives from thence, and restoring Jerusalem, is certainly
typical of Christ's destroying mystical Babylon, delivering ,
his people from her tyranny, and gloriously building up
the spiritual Jerusalem in the latter days ; so God pre
paring Cyrus's way, by drying up the river Euphrates, is
spoken in similar terms, to signify the preparing of Christ's
way, when he shall come to accomplish the latter event.
Thus God says concerning Cyrus, (Isa. xiv. 2.) " I will
go before thee, and make crooked places straight.7' And,
(ver. 13.) " I will direct, or make straight, (as it is in the
margin,) all his ways." This is like chap. xl. 2, 4. u Pre
pare ye the way of the Lord ; make straight in the desert
a highway for our God. — The crooked things shall be
made straight." (Chap. xiii. 16.) " I will make darkness
light before them, and crooked things straight." -f
stand it in the vision of the sixth vial, as signifying something diverse from
what is meant by the same river in the vision of the sixth trumpet :
I answer. That there appears to me to be good reason for a diverse un
derstanding of the river Euphrates in these two different places ; the diver
sity ofthe scene ofthe vision, and of the kind of representation in those two
parts of this prophecy, naturally requires it It is in this book, as in the
Old Testament : when the river Euphrates is spoken of in the Old Testa
ment, both in the histories and prophecies, it is mentioned with regard to a
two-fold relation ; 1st, in its relation to Babylon ; as its defence and supply,
2dly, in its relation to the land of Israel, God's visible people. And as it
was related to that, it was its eastern boundary. (Gen. xv. 18. Exod. xxiii.
31. Deut i. 7. and xi. 24. Josh. i. 4. 2 Sam. viii. 3. I Chron. xviii. 3. 1 Kings
iv. 21. Ezra iv. 20.) Agreeable to this diverse relation of this river, under
which it is mentioned in the Old Testament, so must we understand it dif
ferently in different parts of the prophecy of this book of Revelation, ac
cording as the nature and subject of the vision requires.
In the 15th chapter, where the vision is of God's plagues on Babylon,
preparing the way for her destruction, there, when the river Euphrates is
mentioned, we are naturally and necessarily led to consider it as some
thing appertaining to the mystical Babylon, as Euphrates did to old Baby
lon. But we cannot understand it so in the 9th chapter, for there the pro
phecy is not about Babylon. To mention Euphrates there, as something
belonging to Babylon, would have' been improper ; for the nature of the
vision, and prophetical representation, did not lead to it, nor allow it. John
had no vision of Babylon ; that kind of representation had not been made
to him ; not a word is said about Babylon till we come to the second part
of this prophecy, after John had the vision of the second book, and Christ
had said to him, " Thou must prophesy again before peoples, and nations,
and kings," chap. xi. The scene of the vision in the former part of the
prophecy, had been more especially the land of Israel; and the vision is
concerning two sorts of persons there, viz. Those of the tribes of Israel who
had the seal of God in their foreheads, and those wicked apostate Israelites
who had not his mark. (Compare chap. vii. 3—8. and chap. ix. 4.) The
vision in this ninth chapter, is of God's judgments on those of the tribes of
Israel, or in the land of Israel, which had not the seal of God in their
foreheads. And therefore when mention is made (ver. 14.) of a judgment
coming on them from the river Euphrates, it must mean in the former
respect, with relation to the land of Israel, as its eastern border ; and there
by we must understand that God would bring some terrible calamity on
Christendom from its eastern border, as he did when the Turks were let
loose on Christendom.
If these things are intended in tho prophecy of the sixth vial, it affords,
as -"conceive, great reason to hope that the beginning of that glorious work
of God's Spirit, which in its progress and issue will overthrow antichrist, i
and introduce the glory of the latter days, is not very far off. Mr. Lowman
has, I think, put it beyond all reasonable doubt, that the fifth vial was
poured out in the time of the reformation. It also appears, by his Exposi
tion, that take one vial with another, it has not been, from the beginning
of one vial to the beginning of another, but about 184 years. But it is now
about 230 years since the fifth vial began to be poured ; and it is a lojig time
since the main effects of it have been finished. And therefore, if the sixth
vial has not already began to be poured out, it may well be speedily ex
peeted. But with regard to drying up the fountains and streams of loealth, the
temporal incomes and supplies of the antichristian church and territories,
I would propose jt to consideration, whether or no many things that have
come to pass within these twenty years past, may not be looked upon as
probable beginnings of a fulfilment of this prophecy. Particularly, what

Sect. IV.

THE FALL OF ANTICHRIST NOT VERY DISTANT.

300

It is true, we do not know how long this vial may con
tinue running, and so Christ's way preparing, before it is
fully prepared : but yet, if there be reason to think the ef
fect of this vial is begun, or is near, then there is reason
also to think that the beginning of that great work of God's
Spirit, in the revival of religion, which, before it is finished,
will issue in antichrist's ruin, is not far off. For it is
pretty manifest, that the beginning of this work will accom
pany the sixth vial. For the gathering together of the ar
mies on both sides, on the side of Christ and antichrist, to
that great battle that shall issue in the overthrow of the
latter, will be under this vial ; (compare Rev. xvi. 12, 13,
14, with chap. xix. 11, to the end.) And it is plain, that
Christ manifesting himself, wonderfully appearing, after
long hiding himself, to plead his own and his people's
cause, and riding forth against his enemies in a glorious
manner — and his people following him in pure linen, or
the practice of righteousness and pure religion — will be the
alarm to antichrist, and cause him to gather that vast host
to make the utmost opposition. But this alarm and ga
thering together is represented as .being under the sixth
vial. So that it will be a great revival, and a mighty pro
gress of true religion under the sixth vial, eminently threat
ening the speedy and utter overthrow of Satan's kingdom
on earth, that will so mightily rouse the old serpent to ex
ert himself with such exceeding violence, in that greatest
conflict and struggle that ever he had with Christ and the
church, since the world stood.
All the seven vials bring terrible judgments upon anti
christ, but there seems to be something distinguishing in
the three last, Xhejifth, sixth, and seventh, viz. That they
more directly tend to overthrow his kingdom ; and accord
ingly, each of them is attended with a great reviving of re
ligion. Thejifth vial was attended with such a revival
and reformation, as greatly weakened and diminished the
throne or kingdom of the beast, and went far towards its
ruin. It seems as though the sixth vial should be much
more so; for it is the distinguishing note of this vial that
it is the preparatory, which more than any other vial pre-
the kings of Spain and Portugal did some years since when displeased
with the pope, forbidding any thenceforward going to Rome for investitures,
&c: thereby cutting off two great streams of the pope's wealth, from so
great and rich a part of the popish world ; and its becoming so frequent a
thing of late for popish princes, in their wars, to make bold with the treasure
of the church, and to tax the clergy ; within their dominions, as well as the
laity ; or which is equivalent, to oblige them to contribute great sums, un
der the name of a free gift. To which may be added, the late peeling and
impoverishing of the pope's temporal dominions in Italy, by the armies
ofthe Aust rians, Neapolitans, and Spaniards, passing and repassing through
them, and living so much at discretion in them, of which the pope has so
loudly complained in vain ; receiving nothing but menaces, when he has
objected against giving liberty for the like passage in future. These things
make it hopeful, that the time is coming when the princes of Europe, " the
ten horns, shall hate the whore, and make her desolate and naked, and cat
her flesh :" (Rev. xvii. 16.) which will prepare the way for what next fol
lows, her being burnt with fire ; even as the sixth vial poured out — to con
sume the supplies of antichrist, and " strip him naked " of his wealth, and
as it were " to pick his flesh off from his bones " — will make way for what
next follows, the seventh vial, that will consume antichrist by the fierce
ness of God's wrath.
Besides the things already mentioned, there are also some others that
have lately happened to dry up the wealthy fountains and streams of the
antichristian dominions. Among these we may reckon the almost ruined
trade of France and Spain, the two chief popish kingdoms, the main sup
port of the popish cause, and from whence the kingdom of antichrist has had
of late its main supplies. The almost miraculous taking of Cape-Breton,
in the year 1745, whereby was dried up one of the principal sources of the
wealth of the kingdom of France ,¦ and the no less, but yet more wonder
ful, disappointment of the French, m their great attempt to repossess them
selves of it, and the confounding of their great Armada, under the Duke
D"Anville, by a most visible hand of God against them, the last year ; and
in now again baffling a second attempt of our obstinate enemies, this year,
by delivering up their men of war, with their warlike forces and stores, in
their way to America, into the hands of the English admirals Anson and
Warren. Moreover, the strange and unaccountable consuming of the
great magazines of the French East-India company at Port L1 Orient,
with their magnificent buildings, the last year — scarce any thing of tbe
great stores there laid up being saved out of the flames — the awful destruc
tion by an earthquake, tbe last year, of that great and rich city Lima, the
centre of the South-Sea trade, and the capital of Peru, the richest country
in the world, from whence comes more of its silver and gold than any other
country— from whence Spain is principally supplied with its wealth, and
where the French had a great trade ; the destruction of the city being at
tended with the destruction of all the ships in the harbour, which were
dashed to pieces, as it were, in a moment, by the immediate hand of God ;
many of which were doubtless laden with vast treasures. I might have
mentioned the taking of Porto Bello, not long before tbis, by a very small
force, though a place of very great strength, where the Spanish galleons
used principally to go, to carry the wealth of Peru to Spain. Besides the
taking from the French and Spaniards so many of their ships, laden with
vast riches, trading to the South-Seas, the East and West Indies, and the
Levant. And here it is especially worthy of notice, that when the French seemed
to have gotten so great an advantage of the English factory at Madras,
they were so frustrated, as to the benefit and gains they expected, by the
hand of Heaven against them, immediately pursuing the conquerors with
tempest, wrecking their ships laden with spoils ; and after that delivering up
into the hands of the English their East-India fleet, with their stores and im-

pares the way for Christ's coming to destroy the kingdom
of antichrist, and to set up his own kingdom in the world.
Besides, those things which belong to the preparation of
Christ's way, so often represented by levelling mountains*
drying up rivers, &c. viz. Unravelling intricacies, and re
moving difficulties attending christian doctrines ; distinguish
ing between true religion and its false appearances ; detect
ing and exploring errors and corrupt principles ; reforming
the wicked lives of prof essors, which have been the chief
stumbling-blocks and obstacles that have hitherto hindered
the progress of true religion : these things are the proper
work of the Spirit of God, promoting and advancing divine
light and true piety, and can be the effect of nothing else.
And that the beginning of that glorious work of God;s
Spirit, which shall finally bring on the church's latter-day
glory, will accompany that other effect of this vial — turn
ing the streams of tlie wealth of the world, bringing its
treasures, and the gains of its trade and navigation, into
the true protestant church of Christ — seems very manifest,
because this very effect is spoken of as that which shall be
at the beginning of this glorious work. Isa. Ix. 8, 9.
" Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as doves to their
windows ? Surely the isles shall wait for me, and the
ships of Tarshish first, to bring thy sons from far, their
silver and gold with them, unto the name of the Lord thy
God, and to the Holy One of Israel, because he hath glo
rified thee." So that it is to be hoped, that before this
effect, now probably begun, is at an end, the Spirit of God
will so influence the hearts qf the prostestants, that they
will be disposed to devote to the service of God the silver
and gold they take from their popish enemies, and the
gains of their trade and navigation, both to the East and
West Indies, so that their merchandise and hire shall be ho
liness to the Lord.
Agreeably to what has been supposed, that an extraor
dinary outpouring of the Spirit of God is to accompany
this sixth vial ; so the beginning of a work of extraordi
nary awakening has already attended the probable be
ginning of it, continued in one place or other for many
mense treasures, intended for confirming to themselves the advantage they
seem to have gained by the forementioned conquest ; at the same instant
also delivering into our hands their strong force intended for the regaining
that great fountain of their wealth, which they had lost at Cape-Breton.
And since that, delivering into the hands of Sir Peter Warren so great a
part of their vast and rich fleet from the West Indies.
And one thing with relation to the taking of Cape-Bretoti, though it may
seem trivial, yet I do not think to be altogether inconsiderable in the present
case ; and that is, that thereby the antichristian dominions are deprived of
a very great part of their fish, which makes no small part of the food and
support of popish countries ; their superstition forbidding them to eat any flesh
for near a third part of the year. This they were supplied with much more
from Cape-Breton than from any place in the world in the possession of
papists. And the contention of France with the Dutch, deprives them of
most of their supplies of this sort, which they had elsewhere. When the
prophet Isaiah foretells the depriving Egypt of its wealth and temporal
supplies, under the figure of drying up their rivers, this is particularly men
tioned, that they should be deprived of their fish. Isa. xix, 4, &c. " And
the Egyptians will I give over into the hand of a cruel lord. — And the
waters shall fail from the sea, and the river shall be wasted and dried
up ; and they shall turn the rivers far awf.y, and the brooks of defence shall
be emptied and dried up. — The fishers also shall mourn, and all they that
cast angle into the brooks shall lament, and they that spread nets upon the
waters shall languish." This is expressed in the prophecies of drying up
the waters, i. e. the supplies of Egypt; and this probably is implied in the
prophecies of drying up the waters of that city which is spiritually called
Egypt. And it may be noted, that this is not only a supply that the church
of antichrist has literally out of the waters, but is that part which is eminent
ly the supply and food of their antichristian superstition, or which their
popish religion makes necessary for them.
These things duly considered, I imagine, afford us ground to suppose, not
only that the effect of this sixth vial is already begun, but that some pro
gress is already made in it, and that this vial is now running apace. And
when it shall be finished, there is all reason to suppose that the destruction
of antichrist will very speedily follow ; and that the two last vials will suc
ceed one another more closely than the other vials. When once the river
Euphrates was dried up, and Cyrus's way was prepared, he delayed not,
but immediately entered into the city to destroy it. Nor is it God's manner,
when once his way is prepared, to delay to deliver his church, and show
mercy to Zion. When once impediments are removed, Christ will no
longer remain at a distance, but will bo like a roe or a young hart, coming
swiftly to the help of his people. When that cry is made, Isa. lvii. 14.
" Cast ye up, cast ye up, prepare the way,"&c. the high and lofty One that
inhabits eternity, is represented as very near to revive the spirit of the con
trite, and deliver his people with whom he had been wroth, (ver. 15, to the
end.) When that cry is made, Isa. xL " Prepare ye the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God ; every valley shall be
exalted," &c. God tells his church, that her warfare is accomplished,
and the time to comfort her is come, and that the glory of the Lord now
shall be revealed, and all flesh see it together, ver. 1 — 5. And agreeable
to these things, Christ on the pouring out the sixth vial, says, " Behold, I
come," Rev. xvi. 15, The sixth vial is the forerunner of the seventh or last,
to prepare its way. The angel that pours out this vial is the harbinger of
Christ ; and when the harbinger is come, the king is at hand. John the
Baptist, Christ's harbinger, who came to level mountains and fill up valleys,
proclaimed, " The kingdom of heaven is at hand ;" and when he had pre
pared Christ's way, tbe " Lord suddenly came into his temple, even tha-
messengejr of the covenant." Mai. iii. 1.

310

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part III.

years past : although it has been, in some places, mingled
with much enthusiasm, after the manner of things in their
first beginnings, unripe, and mixed with much crudity.
But it is to be hoped a far more pure, extensive, and glo
rious revival of religion is not far off, which will more
properly be the beginning of that work which in its issue
shall overthrow the kingdom of antichrist and of Satan
through the world. But God will be inquired of for this,
by the house qf Israel, to do it for them.
If, notwithstanding all I have said, it be still judged
there is sufficient reason to determine, that the ruin of an
tichrist is at a very great distance ; and if all I have said
— as arguing that the beginning of that glorious revival of
religion, which in its continuance and progress will de
stroy the kingdom of antichrist, is not very far off— be
judged to be of no force ; yet it will not follow, that our
complying with what is proposed to us in the late Memo
rial from Scotland, will be in vain, or not followed with
such spiritual blessings, as will richly recompense the
pains of such extraordinary prayer for the Holy Spirit, and
the revival of religion. If God does not grant that
greatest of all effusions of his Spirit, so soon as we de
sire ; yet we shall have the conscious satisfaction of hav
ing employed ourselves in a manner that is certainly
agreeable to Christ's will and frequent commands — in
being much in prayer for this mercy, much more than has
heretofore been common with Christians — and there will
be all reason to hope, that we shall receive some blessed
token of his acceptance. , If the fall of mystical Babylon,
and the work of God's Spirit that shall bring it to pass,
be at several hundred years' distance ; yet, it follows not
that there will be no happy revivals qf religion before
that time, which shall be richly worth the most diligent,
earnest, and constant prayer.

SECT. V.
The charge qf novelty, answered.
I would say something to one objection more, and then
hasten to the conclusion of this discourse. — Some may be
ready to object, that what is proposed in this Memorial is
a new thirig, such as never was put in practice in the
church of God before.
If there be something circumstantially new in it, this
cannot be a sufficient objection. The duty of prayer is no
new duty. For many of God's people expressly to agree,
as touching something they shall ask in prayer, is no new
thing. For God's people to agree on circumstances of
time and place for united prayer, according to their own
discretion, is no new thing. For many, in different places,
to agree to offer up extraordinary prayers to God, at the
same time, as a token of their union, is no new thing ; but
has been commonly practised in the appointment of days
of fasting and prayer for special mercies. And if the
people of God should engage in the duty of prayer for the
coming of Christ's kingdom, in a new manner— that they
resolve not to be so negligent in this duty, as has been
common with professors of religion heretofore, but will be
more frequent and fervent in it — this would be such a new
thing as ought to be, and would be only to reform a former
negligence. And for the people of God in various parts of
the world, visibly, and by express agreement, to unite for
this extraordinary prayer, is no more than their duty ; and
no more than what it is foretold the people of God should
actually do, before the time comes of the church's pro
mised glory on earth. And if this be- a duty, then it is a
duty to come into some method to render this practicable :
but it is not practicable (as was shown before) but by this
method, or some other equivalent.
And as to this particular method, proposed to promote
union in extraordinary prayer — God's people in various
parts setting apart fixed seasons, to return at certain pe
riods, wherein they agree to offer up their prayers at the
same time — it is not so new as some may possibly ima
gine. This may appear by what follows ; which is a part
of a paper, dispersed abroad in Great Britain and Ire
land, from Juondon, in the year 1712, being the latter end

of Queen Anne's reign, and very extensively complied with,
entitled, " A serious call from the city to the country, to
join with them in setting apart some time, viz. from seven
to eight, every Tuesday morning, for the solemn seeking of
God, each one in his closet, now in this so critical a junc
ture—Jonah i. 6. ' Call upon God, if so be that God will
think upon us, that we perish not.' " What follows is an
extract from it :
" You have formerly been called upon to' the like duty,
and have complied with it ; and that not without success.
It is now thought highly seasonable to renew the call. It
is hoped that you will not be more backward, when it is
so apparent that there is even greater need. It is scarce
imaginable how a professing people should stand in greater
need 'of prayer, than we do at this day. You were for
merly bespoke from that very pertinent text, Zech. viii. 21.
" The inhabitants of one city shall go to another, saying,
Let us go speedily to pray before the Lord, (or, as the
marginal reading, more expressive of the original reading,
is,) continually, from day to day, to entreat the face of the
Lord." According to this excellent pattern, we of this
city, the metropolis of our land, think ourselves obliged to
call upon our brethren in Great Britain and Ireland, at a
time when our hearts cannot but meditate terror, and our
flesh tremble for fear of God, and are afraid of his right
eous judgments : those past being for the most part for
gotten ; and the signs of the times foreboding evil to come,
being by the generality little, if at all, regarded : we
cannot therefore but renew our earnest request, that all
who make conscience of praying for the peace of Jerusa
lem, who wish well to Zion, who would have us and our
posterity a nation of British protestants, and not of popish
bigots and French slaves, would give us (as far as real
and not pretended necessity will give leave) a meeting at
the throne of grace, at the hour mentioned ; there to
wrestle with God, for turning away his anger from us, for
our deliverance from the hands of his and our enemies,
for turning the councils of all Ahitophels, at home and
abroad, into foolishness ; for mercy to the queen and
kingdom ; for a happy peace, or successful war so long as
the matter shall continue undetermined ; for securing the
protestant succession in the illustrious house of Hanover,
(by good and evil wishes to which, the friends and ene
mies of our religion and civil rights are so essentially dis
tinguished,) and especially for the influences of divine
grace upon the rising generation, particularly the seed of
the righteous, that the offspring of our christian heroes
may never be the plague of our church and country. And
we desire that this solemn prayer be begun the first Tues
day after sight, and continued at least the summer of this
present year, 1712. And we think every modest, rea
sonable, and just request, such as this, should not on any
account be denied us ; since we are not laying a burden
on others, to which we will not most willingly put our
own shoulders ; nay, indeed, count it much more a bless
ing than a burden. We hope this will not be esteemed
by serious protestants, of any denomination, a needless
step ; much less do we fear being censured by any such,
as fanciful and melancholy, on account of such a pro
posal. We with them believe a providence, know and
acknowledge that our God is a God hearing prayer. Scrip
ture recordeth, and our age is not barren of instances, of
God's working marvellous deliverances for his people in
answer to humble, believing, and importunate prayer;
especially when prayer and reformation go together ;
which is what we desire. — Let this counsel be acceptable
to us, in this day of the church's calamity, and our com
mon fears. Let us seek the Lord while he may be found,
and call upon him while he is near. Let us humble our
selves under the mighty hand of God. Let us go and
pray unto our God, and he will hearken unto us. We
shall seek him and find him, when we search for him with
all our hearts. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they
shall prosper that love her. And may Zion's friends and
enemies both cry out with wonder, when they see the
work of God ; Behold they pray ! — What hath God
wrought! Verily there is a God that judgeth in the
earth." " Postscript. It is desired and hoped, that if any are
hindered from attending this work at the above-men-

Sect. VI.

CONCLUDING CONSIDERATIONS.

311

tioned hour, they will nevertheless set apart an hour
weekly for it."
God speedily and wonderfully heard and answered
those who were united in that extraordinary prayer, in
suddenly scattering those black clouds which threatened
the nation and the protestant interest with ruin, at that
time ; in bringing about, in so remarkable a manner, that
happy change in the state of affairs in the nation, which
was after the queen's death, by bringing in King George
the First, just at the time when the enemies of the religion
and liberties of the nation had ripened their designs to be
put in speedy execution. And we see in tlie beginning of
this extract, that what is proposed, is mentioned as being
no new thing, but that God's people in Great Britain
had formerly been called upon to the like duty, and had
complied, not without success. Such agreements have
several times been proposed in Scotland, before this which
is now proposed to us ; there was a proposal published
for this very practice, in the year 1732, and another in
1735. So that it appears this objection of novelty is built
on a mistake.

SECT. VI.
Concluding considerations.
Now, upon the whole, I desire every serious Christian
who may read this discourse, calmly and deliberately to
consider, whether he can excuse himself from complying
with what has been proposed to us, and requested of us,
by those ministers of Christ in Scotland, who are the
authors of the late Memorial. God has stirred up a part of
his church, in a distant part of the world, to be in an ex
traordinary manner seeking and crying to him, that he
would appear to favour Zion, as he has promised. And
they are applying themselves to us, to join with them ;
and make that very proposal to us, which is spoken of in
my text, and in like manner and circumstances. The
members of one church, in one country, are coming to
others in distant countries, saying, Let us go speedily and
constantly to pray before the Lord, and to seek the Lord qf
hosts. Will it not become us readily to say, I will go
also ? W hat these servants of Christ ask of us, is not silver
or gold, or any of our outward substance, or that we would
put ourselves to any cost, or do any thing that will be
likely to expose us to any remarkable trouble, difficulty,
or suffering in our outward interest; but only that we
would help together with them, by our prayers to God, for
the greatest mercy in the world ; a mercy which as much
concerns us as them ; for the glory of their Lord and ours ;
for the great advancement of our common interest and
happiness, and the happiness of our fellow-creatures,
through all nations ; a mercy, of which, at this day
especially, there is great need ; a mercy, which we, in this
land, do stand in particular need of; a mercy, which the
word of God requires us to make the subject matter of
our prayers above all other mercies, and gives us more en
couragement to pray earnestly and unitedly to him for,
than any other mercy ; and a mercy, which the providence
of God towards the world of mankind, at this day, loudly
calls the people of God to pray for. I think, we cannot
reasonably doubt but that these ministers have acted a
part becoming disciples ofthe great Messiah, and ministers
of his kingdom ; and have done the will of God, according
to his word, in setting forward such an affair at this day,
and in proposing it to us. And therefore, I desire it may
be considered, whether we shall not really sin against
God, in refusing to comply with their proposal and re
quest, or in neglecting it, and turning it by, with but little
notice and attention; therein disregarding that which is
truly a call of God to us.
The ministers that make this proposal to us, are no
separatists or schismatics ; are no promoters of public dis
orders, nor of any wildness or extravagance in matters of
religion ; but are quiet, peaceable members and ministers
of the church of Scotland, who have lamented the late
divisions and breaches of that church. If any shall say,
they cannot judge of their character, but must take it on
trust from others, because they conceal their names ; in

answer to this, I would say, That I presume no sober
Eerson will say that he has any reason to suspect them to
e any other than gentlemen of honest intention. Be
assured, there is no appearance of any thing else but an
upright design in their proposal ; and that they have not
mentioned their names, is an argument of it. It may well be
presumed, from the manner of their expressing themselves
in the Memorial itself, they concealed their names from
what perhaps may be called an excess of modesty ; choosing
to be at the greatest distance from appearing to set forth
themselves to the view of the world, as the heads of a great
affair, and the first projectors and movers of something ex
traordinary. And therefore, they are careful to tell us,
that they do not propose the affair, but as a thing already
set on foot; and do not tell us who first projected it. The
proposal is made to us in a very proper and prudent man
ner, with all appearance of christian modesty and sin
cerity, and with a very prudent guard against any thing
that looks like superstition, or whatsoever might entangle
a tender conscience. Far from any appearance of design
to promote a particular party, or denomination of Chris
tians, in opposition to others, with all appearance of the
contrary, it is their charitable request, that none would by
any means conceive of any such thing to be in their view,
and that all — of every denomination and opinion concern
ing the late religious commotions — would join with them
in seeking the common interest of the kingdom of Christ.
And therefore, I think, none can be in the way of their
duty in neglecting a proposal in itself excellent, and which
they have reason to think is made with upright intentions,
merely because the proposers modestly conceal their
names. I do not see how any serious person, who has
even an ill opinion of late religious stirs, can have any
colour of reason to refuse a compliance with this proposal,
on that account. The more disorders, extravagancies, and
delusions of the devil have lately prevailed, the more need
have we to pray earnestly to God, for his Holy Spirit, to
promote true religion, in opposition to the grand deceiver,
and all his works. And the more such prayer as is pro
posed, is answered, the more effectually will all that is
contrary to sober and pure religion be extirpated and ex
ploded. One would think that each who favours the dust of
Zion, when he hears that God is stirring up a considerable
number of his ministers and people to unite in extraordi
nary prayer, for the revival of religion and the advancement
of his kingdom, should greatly rejoice on this occasion. If
we lay to heart the present calamities of the church of
Christ, and long for that blessed alteration which God has
promised, one would think it should be natural to rejoice
at the appearance of something in so dark a day, which is
so promising a token. Would not our friends that were
lately in captivity in Canada, who earnestly longed for de
liverance, have rejoiced to have heard of any thing that
seemed to forebode the approach of their redemption?
And particularly, may we not suppose such of them as
were religious persons, would greatly have rejoiced to have
understood that there was stirred up in God's people an
extraordinary spirit of prayer for their redemption ? I do
not know why it would not be as natural for us to rejoice
at the like hopeful token of the redemption of Zion, if we
made her interest our own, and preferred Jerusalem above
our chief joy.
If we are indeed called of God to comply with the pro
posal now made to us, then let me beseech all who sin
cerely love the interest of real Christianity, notwithstand
ing any diversity of opinion and former disputes, now to
unite, in this affair, with one heart and voice : and let us
go speedily to pray before the Lord. There is no need
that one should wait for another. If we can get others
our neighbours to join with us, and so can conveniently
spend the quarterly seasons with praying societies, this is
desirable ; but if not, why should we wholly neglect the
duty proposed ? Why should not we perform it by our
selves, uniting in heart and practice, as far as we are able,
with those who in distant places are engaged in that duty
at that time ?
If it be agreeable to the mind and will of God, that we
should comply with the Memorial, by praying for the
coming of Christ's kingdom, in the manner therein pro-

312

A CALL TO UNITED EXTRAORDINARY PRAYER.

Part III,

posed, then doubtless it is the duty of all to comply in that
respect also, viz. in endeavouring, as far as in us lies, to
promote others joining in such prayer, and to render this
union and agreement as extensive as may be. Private
Christians may have many advantages and opportunities
for this ; but especially ministers, inasmuch as they not
only are by office overseers of whole congregations of
God's people, and their guides in matters of religion, but
ordinarily have a far more extensive acquaintance and
influence abroad, than private Christians in common have.
And I hope, that such as are convinced it is their duty
to comply with and encourage this design, will remember
we ought not only to go speedily to pray before the Lord,
and to seek his mercy, but also to go constantly. We
should unite in our practice these two things, which our
Saviour unites in his precept, praying and not fainting.
If we should continue some years, and nothing remarkable
in providence should appear as though God heard and
answered, we should act very unbecoming believers, if we
should therefore begin to be disheartened, and grow dull
and slack in seeking of God so great a mercy. It is very
apparent from the word of God, that he is wont often to
try the faith and patience of his people, when crying to him
for some great and important mercy, by withholding the
mercy sought, for a season ; and not only so, but at first
to cause an increase of dark appearances. And yet he,
without fail, at last succeeds those who continue instant
in prayer with all perseverance, and " will not let him go
except he blesses. It is now proposed that this extraor
dinary united prayer should continue for seven years, from
November 1746. Perhaps some who appear forward to
engage, may begin to think the time long, before the seven
years are out ; and may account it a dull story, to go on
for so long time, praying in this extraordinary method,
while all yet continues dark without any dawnings of the
wished-for light, or appearance in providence of the near
approach of the desired mercy. But let it be considered,
whether it will not be a poor business, if our faith and

patience is so short-winded, that we cannot be willing to
wait upon God for seven years, in a way of taking this
little pains, in seeking a mercy so infinitely vast. For my
part, I sincerely wish and hope, lhat there may not be an
end qf extraordinary united prayer, among God's people,
for the effusions of the blessed Spirit, when the seven years
are ended ; but that it will be continued, either in this
method, or some other, by a new agreement, that will be
entered into with greater engagedness, and more abundant
alacrity, than this is ; and that extraordinary united prayer
for such a mercy will he further propagated and extended,
than it can be expected to be in seven years. But, at the
same time, I hope God's people, who unite in this agree
ment, will see some tokens for good before these seven
years are out, that shall give them to see, God has not
said to the seed of Jacob, Seek ye me in vain ; and shall
serve greatly to animate and encourage them to go on in
united prayers for the advancement of Christ's kingdom,
with increasing fervency. But whatever our hopes may
be in this respect, we must be content to be ignorant of the
times and seasons, which the Father hath put in his power ;
and must be willing that God should answer prayer, and
fulfil his own glorious promises, in his own time ; remem
bering such instructions, counsels, and promises, of the
word of God as these, Psal. xxvii. 14. " Wait on the
Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine
heart; wait, 1 say, on the Lord." Hab. ii. 3, 4. " For the
vision is yet for an appointed time ; but in the end it shall
speak, and not lie : though it tarry, wait for it ; because it
will surely come, it will not tarry." Micah vii. 7. " I
will look unto the Lord, I will wait for the God of my
salvation : my God will hear me." Isa. xxv. 8, 9. " God
will wipe away tears from off all faces, and the rebuke of
his people shall he take away from off all the earth ; for
the Lord hath spoken it. And it shall be said in that day,
Lo, this is our God ! we have waited for him, and he will
save us : this is Jehovah ! we have waited for him, we will
be glad and rejoice in his salvation." Amen.

THE

LIFE AND DIARY

THE REV. DAVID BRAINERD

NOTES AND REFLECTIONS.

PREFACE.
There are two ways of representing and recommending true religion and virtue to the world ; the one, by doctrine
and precept; the other, by instance and example; both are abundantly used in the Holy Scriptures. Not only are
the grounds, nature, design, and importance of religion clearly exhibited in the doctrines of Scripture — its exercise
and practice plainly delineated, and abundantly enforced, in its commands and counsels — but there we have many
excellent examples of religion, in its power and practice, set before us, in the histories both of the Old and New
Testament. Jesus Christ, the great Prophet of God, when he came to be " the light of the world" — to teach and enforce true
religion, in a greater degree than ever had been before — made use of both these methods. In his doctrine, he not only
declared the mind and will of God — the nature and properties of that virtue which becomes creatures of our make and
in our circumstances — more clearly and fully than ever it had been before ; and more powerfully enforced it by what
he declared of the obligations and inducements to holiness ; but he also in his own practice gave a most perfect example
of the virtue he taught. He exhibited to the world such an illustrious pattern of numility, divine love, discreet zeal,
self-denial, obedience, patience, resignation, fortitude, meekness, forgiveness, compassion, benevolence, and universal
holiness, as neither men nor angels ever saw before.
God also in his providence has been wont to make use of both these methods to hold forth light to mankind, and
inducements to their duty, in all ages. He has from time to time raised up eminent teachers, to exhibit and bear testi
mony to the truth by their doctrine, and to oppose the errors, darkness, and wickedness of the world ; and he has also
raised up some eminent persons who have set bright examples of that religion which is taught and prescribed in the
word of God ; whose examples have, in the course of divine providence, been set forth to public view. These have a
great tendency both to engage the attention of men to the doctrines and rules taught, and also to confirm and enforce
them ; especially when these bright examples have been exhibited in the same persons who have been eminent
teachers. Hereby the world has had opportunity to see a confirmation of the truth, efficacy, and amiableness of the
religion taught, in the practice of the same persons who have most clearly and forcibly taught it ; and above all,
when these bright examples have been set by eminent teachers, in a variety of unusual circumstances of remarkable
trial ; and when God has withal remarkably distinguished them with wonderful success of their instructions and labours.
Such an instance we have in the excellent person, whose life is published in the following pages. His example is
attended with a great variety of circumstances tending to engage the attention of religious people, especially in these
parts of the world. He was one of distinguished natural abilities ; as all are sensible, who had acquaintance with him.
As a minister of the gospel, he was called to unusual services in that work ; and his ministry was attended with very
remarkable and unusual events. His course of religion began before the late times of extraordinary religious commo
tion; yet he was not an idle spectator, but had a near concern in many things that passed at that time. He had a
very extensive acquaintance with those who have been the subjects of the late religious operations, in places far
distant, in people of different nations, education, manners, and customs. He had a peculiar opportunity of acquaint
ance with tne false appearances and counterfeits of religion ; was the instrument of a most remarkable awakening, a
wonderful and abiding alteration and moral transformation of subjects who peculiarly render the change rare and
astonishing. In the following account, the reader will have an opportunity to see, not only what were the external circum
stances and remarkable incidents of the life of this person, and how he spent his time from day to day, as to his
external behaviour ; but also what passed in his own heart. Here he will see the wonderful change he experienced in his
mind and disposition, the manner in which that change was brought to pass, how it continued, what were its conse
quences in his inward frames, thoughts, affections, and secret exercises, through many vicissitudes and trials, for more
than eight years.
He will also see, how all ended at last, in his sentiments, frame, and behaviour, during a long season of the gradual
and sensible approach of death, under a lingering illness ; and what were the effects of his religion in dying circum
stances, or in the last stages of his illness. The account being written, the reader may have opportunity at his leisure
to compare the various parts of the story, and deliberately to view and weigh the whole, and consider how far what is
related is agreeable to the dictates of right reason and the holy word of God.

314 PREFACE.
I am far from supposing, that Mr. Brainerd's inward exercises and experiences, or his external conduct, were free
from all imperfections. The example of Jesus Christ is the only example that ever existed in human nature as alto
gether perfect ; which therefore is a rule to try all other examples by ; and the dispositions, frames, and practices of
others must be commended and followed no further, than they were followers qf Christ-
There is one thing in Mr. Brainerd, easily discernible by the following account of his life, which may be called an
imperfection in him, which — though not properly an imperfection of a moral nature, yet— may possibly be made an
objection against the extraordinary appearances of religion and devotion in him, by such as seek for objections against
every thing that can be produced in favour of true vital religion ; and that is, that he was, by his constitution and
natural temper, so prone to melancholy and dejection of spirit. There are some who think that all serious strict religion
is a melancholy thing, and that what is called christian experience, is little else besides melancholy vapours disturbing
the brain, and exciting enthusiastic imaginations. But that Mr. Brainerd's temper or constitution inclined him to
despondency, is no just ground to suspect his extraordinary devotion to be only the fruit of a warm imagination. I
doubt not but that all who have well observed mankind, will readily grant, that not all who by their natural constitu
tion or temper are most disposed to dejection, are the most susceptive of lively and strong impressions on their imagi
nation, or the most subject to those vehement affections, which are the fruits of such impressions. But they must well
know, that many who are of a very gay and sanguine natural temper are vastly more so ; and if their affections are
turned into a religious channel, are much more exposed to enthusiasm, than many of the former. As to Mr. Brainerd
in particular, notwithstanding his inclination to despondency, he was evidently one of those who usually are the furthest
from a teeming imagination ; being of a penetrating genius, of clear thought, of close reasoning, and a very exact judg
ment ; as all know, who knew him. As he had a great insight into human nature, and was very discerning and judi
cious in general ; so he excelled in his judgment and knowledge in divinity, but especially in things appertaining to
inward experimental religion. He most accurately distinguished between real, solid piety, and enthusiasm ; between
those affections that are rational and scriptural — having their foundation in light and judgment — and those that are
founded in whimsical conceits, strong impressions on the imagination, and Tenement emotions of the animal spirits.
He was exceedingly sensible of men's exposedness to these things ; how much they had prevailed, and what multi
tudes had been deceived by them ; of their pernicious consequences, and the fearful mischief they had done in the
christian world. He greatly abhorred such a religion, and was abundant in bearing testimony against it, living and
dying ; and was quick to discern when any thing of that nature arose, though in its first buddings, and appearing
under the most fair and plausible disguises. He had a talent for describing the various workings of this imaginary,
enthusiastic religion — evincing its falseness and vanity, and demonstrating tbe great difference between this and true
spiritual devotion — which I scarcely ever knew equalled in any person.
His judiciousness did not only appear in distinguishing among the experiences of others, but also among the various
exercises of his own mind ; particularly in discerning what within himself was to be laid to the score of melancholy ;
in which he exceeded all melancholy persons that ever I was acquainted with. This was doubtless owing to a peculiar
strength in his judgment ; for it is a rare thing indeed, that melancholy people are well sensible of their own disease,
and fully convinced that such and such things are to be ascribed to it, as are its genuine operations and fruits. Mr.
Brainerd did not obtain that degree of skill at once, but gradually ; as the reader may discern by the following account
of his life. In the former part of his religious course, he imputed much of that kind of gloominess of mind and those
dark thoughts to spiritual desertion, which in the latter part of his life he was abundantly sensible were owing to the
disease of melancholy ; accordingly he often expressly speaks of them in his diary as arising from this cause. He often
in conversation spoke of the difference between melancholy and godly sorrow, true humiliation and spiritual desertion,
and the great danger of mistaking the one for the other, and the very hurtful nature of melancholy ; discoursing with
great judgment upon it, and doubtless much more judiciously for what he knew by his own experience.
But besides what may be argued from Mr. Brainerd's strength of judgment, it is apparent in fact, that he was not a
person of a warm imagination. His inward experiences, whether in his convictions or his conversion, and his religious
views and impressions through the course of his life, were not excited by strong and lively images formed in his imagi
nation ; nothing at all appears of it in his diary from beginning to end. He told me on his death-bed, that although
once, when he was very young in years and experience, he was deceived into a high opinion of such things — looking on
them as superior attainments in religion, beyond what he had ever arrived at — was ambitious of them, and earnestly
sought them ; yet he never could obtain them. He moreover declared, that he never in his life had a strong impression
on nis imagination, of any outward form, external glory, or any thing of that nature ; which kind of impressions
abound among enthusiastic people.
As Mr. Brainerd's religious impressions, views, and affections in their nature were vastly different from enthusiasm ;
so were their effects in him as contrary to it as possible. Nothing like enthusiasm, puffs men up with a high conceit of
their own wisdom, holiness, eminence, and sufficiency ; and makes them so bold, forward, assuming, and arrogant.
But the reader will see, that Mr. Brainerd's religion constantly disposed him to a most mean thought of himself, an
abasing sense of his own exceeding sinfulness, deficiency, unprofitableness, and ignorance ; looking on himself as worse
than others ; disposing him to universal benevolence and meekness ; in honour to prefer others,' and to treat all with
kindness and respect. And when melancholy prevailed, and though the effects of it were very prejudicial to him, yet
it had not the effects of enthusiasm ; but operated by dark and discouraging thoughts of himself, as ignorant, wicked,
and wholly unfit for the work of the ministry, or even to be seen among mankind. Indeed, at the time forementioned,
when he had not learned well to distinguish between enthusiasm and solid religion, he joined, and kept company with,
some who were tinged with no small degree of the former. For a season he partook with them in a degree of their
dispositions and behaviours ; though, as was observed before, he could not obtain those things wherein their enthusiasm
itself consisted, and so could not become like them in that respect, however he erroneously desired and sought it. But
certainly it is not at all to be wondered at, that a youth, a young convert, one who had his heart so swallowed up in
religion, and who so earnestly desired his flourishing state — and who had so little opportunity for reading, observation,
and experience — should for a while be dazzled and deceived with the glaring appearances of mistaken devotion and
zeal ; especially considering the extraordinary circumstances of that day. He told me on his death-bed, that while he
was in these circumstances he was out of his element, and did violence to himself, while complying, in his conduct,
with persons of a fierce and imprudent zeal, from his great veneration of some whom he looked upon as better than
himself. So that it would be very unreasonable, that his error at that time should nevertheless be esteemed a just
ground of prejudice against the whole of his religion, and his character in general ; especially considering, how greatly
his mind was soon changed, and how exceedingly he afterwards lamented his error, and abhorred himself for his
imprudent zeal and misconduct at that time, even to the breaking of his heart, and almost to the overbearing of his
natural strength ; and how much of a christian spirit he showed, in condemning himself for that misconduct, as the
reader will see.
What has been now mentioned of Mr. Brainerd, is so far from being a just ground of prejudice against what is re
lated in the following account of his life, that, if duly considered, it will render the history the more serviceable. For
by his thus joining for a season with enthusiasts, he had a more full and intimate acquaintance with what belonged to mat

PREFACE. 315
sort of religion ; and so was under better advantages to judge of the difference between that, and what he finally ap
proved, and strove to his utmost to promote, in opposition to it. And hereby the reader has the more to convince him
that Mr. Brainerd, in his testimony against it, and the spirit and behaviour of those who are influenced by it, speaks
from impartial conviction, and not from prejudice ; because therein he openly condemns his own former opinion and
conduct, on account of which he had greatly suffered from his opposers, and for which some continued to reproach him
as long as he lived.
Another imperfection in Mr. Brainerd, which may be observed in the following account of his life, was his being
excessive in his labours ; not taking due care to proportion his fatigues to his strength. Indeed the case was very often
such, by the seeming calls of Providence, as made it extremely difficult for him to avoid doing more than his strength
would well admit of; yea, his circumstances and the business of his mission among the Indians were such, that great
fatigues and hardships were altogether inevitable. However, he was finally convinced, that he had erred in this matter,
and that he ought to have taken more thorough care, and been more resolute to withstand temptations to such degrees
of labour as injured his health; and accordingly warned his brother, who succeeds him in his mission, to be careful to
avoid this error.
Besides the imperfections already mentioned, it is readily allowed, that there were some imperfections which ran
through his whole life, and were mixed with all his religious affections and exercises ; some mixture of what was na
tural with that which was spiritual ; as it evermore is in the best saints in this world. Doubtless, natural temper had
some influence in the religious exercises and experiences of Mr. Brainerd, as there most apparently was in the exercises
of devout David, and the apostles Peter, John, and Paul. There was undoubtedly very often some influence of
his natural disposition to dejection, in his religious mourning ; some mixture of melancholy with truly godly sorrow and
real christian humility ; some mixture of the natural fire of youth with his holy zeal for God ; and some influence of
natural principles mixed with grace in various other respects, as it ever was and ever will be with the saints while on this
side heaven. Perhaps none were more sensible of Mr. Brainerd's imperfections than he himself; or could distinguish
more accurately than he, between what was natural and what was spiritual. It is easy for the judicious reader to ob
serve, that his graces ripened, the religious exercises of his heart became more and more pure, and he more and more
distinguished in his judgment, the longer he lived : he had much to teach and purify him, and he failed not to make
his advantage.
But notwithstanding all these imperfections, I am persuaded every pious and judicious reader will acknowledge, that
what is here set before him is indeed a remarkable instance of true and eminent christian piety in heart and practice —
tending greatly to confirm the reality of vital religion, and the power of godliness — that it is most worthy of imitation,
and many ways calculated to promote the spiritual benefit of the careful observer.
It is fit the reader should be aware, that what Mr. Brainerd wrote in his diary, out of which the following account of
his life is chiefly taken, was written only for his own private use, and not to get honour and applause in the world, nor
with any design that the world should ever see it, either while he lived or after his death ; excepting some few things
that he wrote in a dying state, after he had been persuaded, with difficulty, not entirely to suppress all his private writ
ings. He showed himself almost invincibly averse to the publishing of any part of his diary after his death ; and when
he was thought to be dying at Boston, he gave the most strict, peremptory orders to the contrary. But being by some
of his friends there prevailed upon to withdraw so strict and absolute a prohibition, he was pleased finally to yield so
far as that " his papers should be left in my hands, that I might dispose of them as I thought would be most for God's
glory and the interest of religion."
But a few days before his death, he ordered some part of his diary to be destroyed, which renders the account of his
life the less complete. And there are some parts of his diary hero left out for brevity's sake, that would, I am sensible,
have been a great advantage to the history, if they had been inserted ; particularly the account of his wonderful suc
cesses among the Indians ; which for substance is the same in his private diary with that which has already been made
public, in the journal he kept by order of the society in Scotland, for their information. That account, I am of opinion,
would be more entertaining and more profitable, if it were published as it is written in his diary, in connexion with
his secret religion and the inward exercises of his mind, and also with the preceding and following parts of the story of
his life. But because that account has been published already, I have therefore omitted that part. However, this de
fect may in a great measure be made up to the reader, by the public journal. — But it is time to end this preface, that
the reader may be no longer detained from the history itself.
JONATHAN EDWARDS.
N. B. Those parts of the following Life and Diary which are not in turned commas, are the words of the publisher,
President Edwards. They contain the substance of Mr. Brainerd's Diary for the time specified. By this mode, need
less repetitions were prevented.

THE

LIFE AND DIARY OF DAVID BRAINERD.

PART I.
PROM HIS BIRTH, TO THE TIME WHEN HE BEGAN TO STUDY
FOR THE MINISTRY.
Mr. David Brainerd was born April 20, 1718, at
Haddam, a town of Hartford, in Connecticut, New Eng
land. His father was the worshipful Hezekiah Brainerd,
Esq. one of his Majesty's council for that colony ; who
was the son of Daniel Brainerd, Esq. a justice of the
peace, and a deacon of the church of Christ in Haddam.
His mother was Mrs. Dorothy Hobart, daughter to the
Reverend Mr. Jeremiah Hobart ; who preached awhile
at Topsfield, then removed to Hempstead on Long-Island,
and afterwards — by reason of numbers turning Quakers,
and many others being so irreligious, that they would do,
nothing towards the support of the gospel — settled in the
work of the ministry at Haddam ; where he died in the
85th year of his age. He went to the public worship in
the forenoon, and died in his chair between meetings.
This reverend gentleman was a son of the Reverend Peter
Hobart ; who was, first, minister of the gospel at Hing-
ham, in the county of Norfolk in England ; and, by reason
of the persecution of the Puritans, removed with his
family to New England, and was settled in the ministry
at Hingham, in Massachusetts. He had five sons, viz.
Joshua, Jeremiah, Gershom, Japheth, and Nehemiah.
His son Joshua was minister at Southold on Long-Island.
Jeremiah was Mr. David Brainerd's grandfather, minister
at Haddam, &c. as before observed ; Gershom was minis
ter of Groton in Connecticut ; Japheth was a physician ;
he went in the quality of a doctor of a ship to England,
(before the time of taking his second degree at college,)
and designed to go from thence to the East Indies ; but
never was heard of more. Nehemiah was sometime fellow
of Harvard college, and afterwards minister at Newton in
Massachusetts. The mother of Mrs. Dorothy Hobart
(who was afterwards Brainerd) was a daughter of the
Reverend Samuel Whiting, minister of the gospel, first
at Boston in Lincolnshire, and afterwards at Lynn in
Massachusetts, New England. He had three sons who
were ministers of the gospel.
David Brainerd was the third son of his parents.
They had five sons, and four daughters. Their eldest son
is Hezekiah Brainerd, Esq. a justice of the peace, and for
several years past a representative of the town of Haddam,
in the general assembly of Connecticut colony ; the second
was the Reverend Nehemiah Brainerd, a worthy minister
at Eastbury in Connecticut, who died of a consumption,
Nov. 10, 1742 ; the fourth is Mr. John Brainerd, who
succeeds his brother David as missionary to the Indians,
and pastor of the same church of Christian Indians in
New Jersey ; and the fifth was Israel, lately student at
Yale college in New-Haven, who died since his brother
David. — Mrs. Dorothy Brainerd having lived about five
years a widow, died when her son, of whose life I am
about to give an account, was about fourteen years of age :
* In Mr. Brainerd's account of himself here, and continued in his
Diary, the reader will find a growing interest and pleasure as he proceeds ;
in which is beautifully exemplified what the inspired penman declares,
" The path of the just is as tho morning light, that shincth more and more

so that in his youth he was left both fatherless and mother
less. What account he has given of himself, and his own
life, may be seen in what follows.*
" I was from my youth somewhat sober, and inclined
rather to melancholy than the contrary extreme ; but do
not remember any thing of conviction of sin, worthy of
remark, till I was, I believe, about seven or eight years of
age. Then 1 became concerned for my soul, and terrified
at the thoughts of death, and was driven to the perform
ance of duties : but it appeared a melancholy business,
that destroyed my eagerness for play. And though, alas !
this religious concern was but short-lived, I sometimes
attended secret prayer; and thus lived at "ease in Zion,
without God in the world," and without much concern,
as I remember, till I was above thirteen years of age. But
some time in the winter 1732, I was roused out of carnal
security, by I scarce know what means at first ; but was
much excited by the prevailing of a mortal sickness in
Haddam. 1 was frequent, constant, and somewhat fervent
in duties ; and took delight in reading, especially Mr.
Janeway's Token for Children. I felt sometimes much
melted in duties, and took great delight in the performance
of them ; and I sometimes hoped that I was converted,
or at least in a good and hopeful way for heaven and
happiness, not knowing what conversion was. The Spirit
of l_ od at this time proceeded far with me ; I was re
markably dead to the world, and my thoughts were almost
wholly employed about my soul's concerns ; and I may
indeed say, "Almost I was persuaded to be a Christian "
I was also exceedingly distressed and melancholy at the
death of my mother, in March, 1732. But afterwards
my religious concern began to decline, and by degrees I
fell back into a considerable degree of security, though I
still attended secret prayer.
"About the 15th of April, 1733, I removed from my
father's house to East Haddam, where I spent four years ;
but still "without God in the world," though, for the most
part, I went a round of secret duty. I was not much
addicted to young company, or frolicking, as it is called,
but this I know, that when I did go into such company,
I never returned with so good a conscience as when I
went ; it always added new guilt, made me afraid to come
to the throne of grace, and spoiled those good frames I
was "wont sometimes to please myself with. But, alas !
all my good frames were but self-righteousness, not
founded on a desire for the glory of God.
" About the latter end of April, 1737, being full nineteen
years of age, I removed to Durham, to work on my farm,
and so continued about one year ; frequently longing, from
a natural inclination, after a liberal education. When
about twenty years of age, I applied myself to study ;
and was now engaged more than ever in the duties of
religion. I became very strict, and watchful over my
thoughts, words, and actions; and thought I must be
sober indeed, because I designed to devote myself to the
ministry ; and imagined I did dedicate myself to the Lord.
Some time in April, 1738, I went to "Mr. Fiske's, and
lived with him during his life.f I remember he advised
unto the perfect day." And indeed even his diction and style of writing
assume a gradual improvement — W.
t Mr. Fiske was the pastor of the churchiii Haddam.

Part I.

A. D. 1718—1742. i_T. 1—24.

317

ine wholly to abandon young company, and associate my
self with grave elderly people : which counsel I followed.
My manner of life was now exceeding regular, and full of
religion, such as it was ; for I read my Bible more than
twice through in less than a year, spent much time every
day in prayer and other secret duties, gave great attention
to the word preached, and endeavoured to my utmost to
retain it. So much concerned was I about religion, that
1 agreed with some young persons to meet privately on
sabbath evenings for religious exercises, and thought my
self sincere in these duties ; and after our meeting was
ended, I used to repeat the discourses of the day to my
self; recollecting what I could, though sometimes very
late at night. I used sometimes on Monday mornings to
recollect the same sermons ; had considerable movings of
pleasurable affection in duties, and had many thoughts of
joining the church. In short, I had a very good outside,
and rested entirely on my duties, though not sensible
of it.
" After Mr. F'iske's death, I proceeded in my learning
with my brother ; was still very constant in religious duties,
and often wondered at the levity of professors ; it was a
trouble to me, that they were so careless in religious
matters. — Thus I proceeded a considerable length on a
self-righteous foundation ; and should have been entirely
lost and undone, had not the mere mercy of God pre
vented. " Some time in the beginning of winter, 1 738, it pleased
God, on one sabbath-day morning, as I was walking out
for some secret duties, to give me on a sudden such a sense
of my danger, and the wrath of God, that I stood amazed,
and my former good frames, that I had pleased myself
with, all presently vanished. From the view I had of my
sin and vileness, I was much distressed all that day, fear
ing the vengeance of God would soon overtake me. I
was much dejected, kept much alone, and sometimes
envied the birds and beasts their happiness, because they
were not exposed to eternal misery, as I evidently saw I
was. And thus I lived from day to day, being frequently
in great distress : sometimes there appeared mountains
before me to obstruct my hopes of mercy ; and the work
of conversion appeared so great, that I thought I should
never be the subject of it. I used, however, to pray and
cry to God, and perform other duties with great earnest
ness ; and thus hoped by some means to make the case
better. " And though, hundreds of times, I renounced all pre
tences of any worth in my duties, as I thought, even while
performing them, and often confessed to God that I de
served nothing, for the very best of them, but eternal
condemnation ; yet still I had a secret hope of recommend
ing myself to God by my religious duties. When I pray-
ecf affectionately, and my heart seemed in some measure
to melt, I hoped God would be thereby moved to pity me,
my prayers then looked with some appearance of goodness
in'them, and I seemed to mourn for sin. And then I could
in some measure venture on the mercy of God in Christ,
as I thought, though the preponderating thought, the foun
dation of my hope, was some imagination of goodness in
my heart-meltings, flowing of affections in duty, extra
ordinary enlargements, &c. Though at times the gate
appeared so very strait, that it looked next to impossible to
enter, yet, at other times, I flattered myself that it was not
so very difficult, and hoped I should by diligence and
watchfulness soon gain the point. Sometimes after en
largement in duty and considerable affection, I hoped I
had made a good step towards heaven ; imagined that God
was affected as I was, and that he would hear such sincere
cries, as I called them. And so sometimes, when I with
drew for secret duties in great distress, I returned com
fortable ; and thus healed myself with my duties.
" Some time in February, 1739, I set apart a day for
secret fasting and prayer, and spent the day in almost
incessant cries to God for mercy, that he would open my
eyes to see the evil of sin, and the way of life by Jesus
Christ. And God was pleased that day to make consider
able discoveries of my heart to me. But still I trusted in
all the duties I performed ; though there was no manner
of goodness in them, there being in them no respect to the
glory of God, nor any such principle in my heart. Yet,

God was pleased to make my endeavours that day a
means to show me my helplessness in some measure.
" Sometimes I was greatly encouraged, and imagined
that God loved me, and was pleased with me ; and
thought I should soon be fully reconciled to God. But
the whole was founded on mere presumption, arising from
enlargement in duty, or flowing of affections, or some good
resolutions, and the like. And when, at times, great dis
tress began to arise, on a sight of my vileness, nakedness,
and inability to deliver myself from a sovereign God, I
used to put off the discovery, as what I could not bear.
Once, I remember, a terrible pang of distress seized me,
and the thoughts of renouncing myself, and standing
naked before God, stripped of all goodness, were so
dreadful to me, that I was ready to say to them as Felix
to Paul, ' Go thy way for this time.' Thus, though I
daily longed for greater conviction of sin, supposing that
I must see more of my dreadful state in order to a remedy ;
yet when the discoveries of my vile, hellish heart, were
made to me, the sight was so dreadful, and showed me so
plainly my exposedness to damnation, that I could not
endure it.— I constantly strove after whatever qualifications
I imagined others obtained before the reception of Christ,
in order to recommend me to his favour. Sometimes I felt
the power of a hard heart, and supposed it must be soft
ened before Christ would accept of me ; and when I felt
any meltings of heart, I hoped now the work was almost
done. Hence, when my distress still remained, I was
wont to murmur at God's dealings with me ; and thought,
when others felt their hearts softened, God showed them
mercy ; but my distress remained still.
" Sometimes I grew remiss and sluggish, without any-
great convictions of sin, for a considerable time together;
but after such a season, convictions seized me more vio
lently. One night I remember in particular, when I was
walking solitarily abroad, I had opened to me such a view
of my sin, that I feared the ground would cleave asunder
under my feet, and become my grave ; and would send my
soul quick into hell, before I could get home. And
though I was forced to go to bed, lest my distress should
be discovered by others, which I much feared ; yet I
scarcely durst sleep at all, for I thought it would be a great
wonder if I should be out of hell in the morning. And
though my distress was sometimes thus great, yet I greatly
dreaded the loss of convictions, and returning back to a
state of carnal security, and to my former insensibility of
impending wrath ; which made me exceeding exact in my
behaviour, lest I should stifle the motions of God's Holy
Spirit. When at any time I took a view of my convic
tions, and thought the degree of them to be considerable,
I was wont to trust in them ; but this confidence, and the
hopes of soon making some notable advances towards
deliverance, would ease my mind, and I soon became
more senseless and remiss : but then again, when I dis
cerned my convictions to grow languid, and I thought them
about to leave me, this immediately alarmed and distressed
me. Sometimes I expected to take a large step, and get
very far towards conversion, by some particular oppor
tunity or means I had in view.
" The many disappointments, great distresses, and per
plexity I met with, put me into a most horrible frame of
contesting with the Almighty ; with an inward vehemence
and virulence finding fault with his ways of dealing with
mankind. I found great fault with the imputation of
Adam's sin to his posterity ; and my wicked heart often
wished for some other way of salvation, than by Jesus
Christ. Being like the troubled sea, my thoughts con
fused, I used to contrive to escape the wrath of God by
some other means. I had strange projects, full of atheism,
contriving to disappoint God's designs and decrees con
cerning me, or to escape his notice, and hide myself from
him. But when, upon reflection, I saw these projects
were vain, and would not serve me, and that I could con
trive nothing for my own relief; this would throw my
mind into the most horrid frame, to' wish there was no God,
or to wish there were some other God that could control
him, &c. These thoughts and desires were the secret
inclinations of my heart, frequently acting before I was
aware ; but, alas ! they were mine, although I was affright
ed when I came to reflect on them. When I considered,

318

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

it distressed me to think, that my heart was so full of
enmity against God ; and it made me tremble, lest his
vengeance should suddenly fall upon me. I used before
to imagine, that my heart was not so bad as the Scriptures
and some other books represented it. Sometimes i used
to take much pains to work it up into a good frame, an
humble submissive disposition ; and hoped there was then
some goodness in me. But, on a sudden, the thoughts of
the strictness of the law, or the sovereignty of God, would
so irritate the corruption of my heart, that I had so watch
ed over, and hoped I had brought to a good frame, that it
would break over all bounds, and burst forth on all sides,
like floods of water when they break down their dam.
" Being sensible of the necessity of a deep humiliation in
order to a saving close with Christ, I used to set myself to
work in my own heart those convictions that were requisite
in such an humiliation ; as, a conviction that God would
be just, if he cast me off for ever ; that if ever God should
bestow mercy on me, it would be mere grace, though I
should be in distress many years first, and be never so
much engaged in duty; that God was not in the least
obliged to pity me the more for all past duties, cries, and
tears, &c. I strove to my utmost to bring myself to a firm
belief of these things and a hearty assent to them ; and
hoped that now I was brought off from myself, truly hum
bled, and that I bowed to the divine sovereignty. I was
wont to tell God in my prayers, that now I had those very
dispositions of soul that he required, and on which he
showed mercy to others, and thereupon to beg and plead
for mercy to me. But when I found no relief, and was
still oppressed with guilt, and fears of wrath, my soul was
in a tumult, and my heart rose against God, as dealing
hardly with me. Yet then my conscience flew in my face,
putting me in mind of my late confession to God of his
justice in my condemnation, &c. And this giving me a
sight ofthe badness of my heart, threw me again into dis
tress, and I wished I had watched my heart more narrowly,
to keep it from breaking out against God's dealings with
me ; and I even wished I had not pleaded for mercy on ac
count of my humiliation, because thereby I had lost all my
seeming goodness. — Thus, scores of times, I vainly ima
gined myself humbled and prepared for saving mercy.
And while I was in this distressed, bewildered, and tu
multuous state of mind, the corruption of my heart was
especially irritated with the following things.
" 1. The strictness of the divine law. For I found it was
impossible for me, after my utmost pains, to answer its
demands. I often made new resolutions, and as often broke
them. I imputed the whole to carelessness and the want
of being more watchful, and used to call myself a fool for
my negligence. But when, upon a stronger resolution, and
greater endeavours, and close application to fasting and
prayer, I found all attempts fail ; then I quarrelled with
the law of God, as unreasonably rigid. I thought, if it
extended only to my outward actions and behaviours I
could bear with it ; but I found it condemned me for my
evil thoughts, and sins of my heart, which I could not pos
sibly prevent.' I was extremely loth to own my utter
helplessness in this matter: but after repeated disappoint
ments, thought that, rather than perish, I could do a little
more still ; especially if such and such circumstances might
but attend my endeavours and strivings. I hoped, that I
should strive more earnestly than ever, if the matter came
to extremity — though I never could find the time to do my
utmost, in the manner I intended — and this hope of future
more favourable circumstances, and of doing something
great hereafter, kept me from utter despair in myself, and
from seeing myself fallen into the hands of a sovereign
God, and dependent on nothing but free and boundless
grace. " 2. Another thing was, that faith alone -was the condition
qf salvation; that God would not come down to lower
terms, and that he would not promise life and salvation
upon my sincere and hearty prayers and endeavours. That
word, Mark xvi. 16. " He that believeth not, shall be
damned," cut off all hope there : and I found, faith was
the sovereign gift of God; that I could not get it as of my
self, and could not oblige God to bestow it upon me, by
any of my performances, (Eph.ii. 1, 8.) This, I was ready
to say, is a hard saying, who can bear it ? 1 could not bear,

that all I had done should stand for mere nothing, who
had been very conscientious in duty, had been exceeding
religious a great while, and had, as I thought, done much
more than many others who had obtained mercy. I con
fessed indeed the vileness of my duties; but then, what
made them at that time seem vile, was my wandering
thoughts in them ; not because I was all over defiled like
a devil, and the principle corrupt from whence they flowed,
so that I could not possibly do any thing lhat was good.
And therefore I called what I did, by the name of honest
faithful endeavours ; and could not bear it, that God had
made no promises of salvation to them.
" 3. Another thing was, that I could not find out what
faith was; or what it was to believe, and come to Christ.
I read the calls of Christ to the weary and heavy laden ;
but could find no way that he directed them to come in. I
thought I would gladly come, if I knew how, though the
path of duty were never so difficult. I read Mr. Stoddard's
Guide to Christ, (which I trust was, in the hand of God,
the happy means of my conversion,) and my heart rose
against the author; for though he told me my very heart
all along under convictions, and seemed to be very bene
ficial to me in his directions; yet here he failed, he did not
tell me any thing I could do that would bring me to
Christ, but left me as it were with a great gulf between,
without any direction to get through. For I was not yet
effectually and experimentally taught, that there could be
no way prescribed, whereby a natural man could, of his
own strength, obtain that which is supernatural, and which
the highest angel cannot give.
" 4. Another thing to which I found a great inward op-
position, was the sovereignty of God. I could not bear
that it should be wholly at God's pleasure to save or damn
me, just as he would. That passage, Rom. ix. 11—23.
was a constant vexation to me, especially ver. 21. Read
ing or meditating on this, always destroyed my seeming
good frames : for when I thought I was almost humbled,
and almost resigned, this passage would make my enmity
against the sovereignty of God appear. When I came to
reflect on my inward enmity and blasphemy, which arose
on this occasion, I was the more afraid of God, and driven
further from any hopes of reconciliation with him. It gave
me such a dreadful view of myself, that I dreaded more
than ever to see myself in God's hands, at his sovereign
disposal, and it made me more opposite than ever to sub
mit to his sovereignty ; for I thought God designed my
damnation. " All this time the Spirit of God was powerfully at work
with me ; and I was inwardly pressed to relinquish all
self-confidence^ all hopes of ever helping myself by any
means whatsoever : and the conviction of my lost estate
was sometimes so clear and manifest before my eyes, that
it was as if it had been declared to me in so many words,
' It is done, it is done, for ever impossible to deliver your
self.' For about three or four days my soul was thus
greatly distressed. At some turns, for a few moments, I
seemed to myself lost and undone; but then would shrink
back immediately from the sight, because I dared not ven
ture myself into the hands of God, as wholly helpless, and
at the disposal of his sovereign pleasure. I dared not see
that important truth concerning myself, that I was dead in
trespasses and sins. But when I had as it were thrust away
these views of myself at any time, I felt distressed to have
the same discoveries of myself again ; for I greatly feared
being given over of God to final stupidity. When I
thought of putting it off to a more convenient season, the
conviction was so close and powerful, with regard to the
present time, that it was the best, and probably the only
time, that 1 dared not put it off.
" It was the sight of truth concerning myself, truth re
specting my state, as a creature fallen and alienated from
God, and that consequently could make no demands on
God for mercy, but must subscribe to the absolute sove
reignty ofthe Divine Being; the sight ofthe truth, I say,
my soul shrank away from, and trembled to think of be
holding. Thus, he that doth evil, as all unregenerate men
continually do, hates the light of truth, neither cares to
come to it, because it will reprove his deeds, and show him
hisjust deserts, John iii. 20. And though, some time be
fore, I had taken much painsj as I thought, to submit to

Part I.

A. D. 1718—1742. iET. 1—24.

319

the sovereignty of God, yet I mistook the thing; and did
not once imagine, that seeing and being made experimen
tally sensible of this truth, which my soul now so much
dreaded and trembled at, was the frame of soul that I had
been so earnest in pursuit of heretofore. For I had ever
hoped, that when I had attained to that humiliation, which
I supposed necessary to go before faith, then it would not
he fair for God to cast me off; but now I saw it was so far
from any goodness in me, to own myself spiritually dead,
and destitute of all goodness, that, on the contrary, my
mouth would be for ever stopped by it ; and it looked as
dreadful to me, to see myself, and the relation I stood in to
God— I a sinner and criminal, and he a great Judge and
Sovereign — as it would be to a poor trembling creature, to
venture off some high precipice. And hence I put it off
for a minute or two, and tried for better circumstances to
do it in ; either I must read a passage or two, or pray first,
or something of the like nature ; or else put off my submis
sion to God s sovereignty, with an objection, that I did not
know how to submit. But the truth was, I could see no
safety in owning myself in the hands ofa sovereign God, and
that I could lay no claim to any thing better than damnation.
" But after a considerable time spentin such like exercises
and distresses, one morning, while I was walking in a soli
tary place, as usual, I at once saw that all my contrivances
and projects to effect or procure deliverance and salvation
for myself, were utterly in vain ; I was brought quite to a
stand, as finding myself totally lost. -I had thought many
times before, that the difficulties in my way were very great;
but now I saw, in another and very different light, that it
was for ever impossible for me to do any thing towards
helping or delivering myself. I then thought of blaming
myself, that I had not done more, and been more engaged,
while I had opportunity — for it seemed now as if the
season of doing was for ever over and gone — but I instant
ly saw, that let me have done what I would, it would no
more have tended to my helping myself, than what I had
done ; that I had made all the pleas I ever could have
made to all eternity ; and that all my pleas were vain. The
tumult that had been before in my mind, was now quieted ;
and I was something eased of that distress, which I felt,
while straggling against a sight of myself, and of the
divine sovereignty. I had thegreatest certainty that my state
was for ever miserable, for all that I could do ; and won
dered that I had never been sensible of it before.
" While I remained in this state, my notions respecting
my duties were quite different from what I had ever enter
tained in times past. Before this, the more I did in duty,
the more hard I thought it would be for God to cast me
off; though at the same time I confessed, and thought I
saw, that there was no goodness or merit in my duties ;
but now the more I did in prayer or any other duty, the
more I saw 1 was indebted to God for allowing me to ask
for mercy ; for I saw it was self-interest had led me to
pray, and that I had never once prayed from any respect to
the glory of God. Now I saw there was no necessary
connexion between my prayers and the bestowment of
divine mercy ; [that they laid not the least obligation upon
God to bestow his grace upon me ; and that there was no
more virtue or goodness in them, than there would be in
my paddling with my hand in the water, (which was the
comparison I had then in my mind,) and this because they
were not performed from any love or regard to God. I saw
that I had been heaping up my devotions before God, fast
ing, praying, &c. pretending, and indeed really thinking
sometimes, that I was aiming at the glory of God ; whereas
I never once truly intended it, but only my own happiness.
I saw, that as I had never done any thing for God, I had
no claim on any thing from him, but perdition, on account
of my hypocrisy and mockery, i Oh now different did my
duties now appear from what they used to do ! I used to
charge them with sin and imperfection; but this was only
on account of the wanderings and vain thoughts attending
them, and not because I had no regard to God in them;
for this I thought I had. But when I saw evidently that I
had regard to nothing but self-interest, then they appeared
a vile mockery of God, self-worship, and a continual
course of lies ; so that I now saw that something worse had
* Yale college, in New- Haven

attended my duties, than barely a few wanderings, &c. ;
for the whole was nothing but self-worship, and a horrid
abuse of God.
" I continued, as I remember, in this state of mind, from
Friday morning till the sabbath evening following, (July
12, 1739,) when I was walking again in the same solitary
place, where I was brought to see myself lost and helpless,
as before mentioned. Here, in a mournful melancholy
state, I was attempting to pray ; but found no heart to en
gage in that or any other duty ; my former concern, exer
cise, and religious affections were now gone. I thought
the Spirit of God had quite left me ; but still was not dis
tressed : yet disconsolate, as if there was nothing in heaven
or earth could make me happy. Having been thus endea
vouring to pray — though, as I thought, very stupid and
senseless — for near half an hour, then, as I was walking in
a dark thick grove, unspeakable glory seemed to open to the
view and apprehension of my soul. . I do not mean any
external brightness, for I saw no such thing ; nor do I in
tend any imagination of a body of light, somewhere in the
third heavens, or any thing of that nature ; but it was a new
inward apprehension or view that I had of God, such as 1
never had before, nor any thing which had the least resem
blance of it. I stood still, wondered, and admired ! I knew
that I never had seen before any thing comparable to it for
excellency and beauty ; it was widely different from all the
conceptions that ever I had of God, or things divine. I
had no particular apprehension of any one person in the
Trinity, either the Father, the Son, or the Holy Ghost ; but
it appeared to be divine glory. My soul rejoiced with joy
unspeakable, to see such a God, such a glorious Divine
Being; and I was inwardly pleased and satisfied that he
should be God over all for ever and ever. My soul was
so captivated and delighted with the excellency, loveli
ness, greatness, and other perfections of God, that I was
even swallowed up in him ; at least to that degree, that I
had no thought (as I remember) at first about my own
salvation, and scarce reflected there was such a creature as
myself. " Thus God, I trust, brought me to a hearty disposition
to exalt him, and set him on the throne, and principally
and ultimately to aim at his honour and glory, as King of
the universe. I continued in this state of inward joy,
peace, and astonishment, till near dark, without any sensi
ble abatement ; and then began to think and examine what
I had seen ; and felt sweetly composed in my mind all the
evening following. I felt myself in a new world, and every
thing about me appeared with a different aspect from what
it was wont to do. At this time, the way of salvation open
ed to me with such infinite wisdom, suitableness, and ex
cellency, that I wondered I should ever think of any other
way of salvation ; was amazed that I had not dropped my
own contrivances, and complied with this lovely, blessed,
and excellent way before. If 1 could have been saved by
my own duties, or any other way that I had formerly con
trived, my whole soul would now have refused it. I won
dered that all the world did not see and comply with this
way of salvation, entirely by the righteousness of Christ.
" The sweet relish of what I then felt, continued with
me for several days, almost constantly, in a greater or less
degree; I could not but sweetly rejoice in God, lying down
and rising up. The next Lord's day I felt something of the
same kind, though not so powerful as before. But not
long after I was again involved in thick darkness, and un
der great distress ; yet not of the same kind with my dis
tress under convictions. I was guilty, afraid, and ashamed
to come before God ; was exceedingly pressed with a sense
of guilt : but it was not long before I felt, I trust, true re
pentance and joy in God. — About the latter end of August,
I again fell under great darkness ; it seemed as if the pre
sence of God was clean gone for ever ; though I was not
so much distressed about my spiritual state, as I was at
my being shut out from God's presence, as I then sensibly
was. But it pleased the Lord to return graciously to me,
not long after.
" In the beginning of September I went to college,* and
entered there ; but with some degree of reluctancy, fearing
lest I should not be able to lead a life of strict religion, in

320

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

the midst of so many temptations.— After this, in the
vacancy, before I went to tarry at college, it pleased God
to visit my soul with clearer manifestations of himself and
his grace. I was spending some time in prayer, and self-
examination, when the Lord by his grace so shined into
my heart, that I enjoyed full assurance of his favour, for
that time ; and my soul was unspeakably refreshed with
divine and heavenly enjoyments. At this time especially,
as well as some others, sundry passages of God's word open
ed to my soul with divine clearness, power, and sweetness,
so as to appear exceeding precious, and with clear and cer
tain evidence of its being the word qf God. I enjoyed
considerable sweetness in religion all the winter following.
" In Jan. 1740, the measles spread much in college ; and
I having taken the distemper, went home to Haddam.
But some days before I was taken sick, I seemed to be
greatly deserted, and my soul mourned the absence of the
Comforter exceedingly. It seemed to me all comfort was
for ever gone ; I prayed and cried to God for help, yet
found no present comfort or relief. But through divine
goodness, a night or two before I was taken ill, while I
was walking alone in a very retired place, and engaged in
meditation and prayer, I enjoyed a sweet refreshing visit,
as I trust, from above ; so that my soul was raised far
above the fears of death. Indeed I rather longed for
death, than feared it. 0 how much more refreshing this
one season was, than all the pleasures and delights that
earth can afford ! After a day or two I was taken with
the measles, and was very ill indeed, so that I almost
despaired of life ; but had no distressing fears of death at
all. However, through divine goodness I soon recovered ;
yet, by reason of hard and close studies, and being much
exposed on account of my freshmanship, I had but little
time for spiritual duties : my soul often mourned for want
of more time and opportunity to be alone with God. In
the spring and summer following, I had better advantages
for retirement, and enjoyed more comfort in religion.
Though indeed my ambition in my studies greatly wrong
ed the activity and vigour of my spiritual life ; yet this
was usually the case with me, that " in the multitude of
my thoughts within me, God's comforts principally de
lighted my soul;" these were ray greatest consolations
day by day.
" One day I remember, in particular, (I think it was in
June, 1740,) I walked to a considerable distance from the
college, in the fields alone at noon, and in prayer found
such unspeakable sweetness and delight in God, that I
thought, if I must continue still in this evil world, I want
ed always to be there, to behold God's glory. My soul
dearly loved all mankind, and longed exceedingly lhat
they should enjoy what I enjoyed. It seemed to be a
little resemblance of heaven. On Lord's day, July 6,
being sacrament-day, I found some divine life and spiritual
refreshment in that holy ordinance. When I came from
the Lord's table, I wondered how my fellow-students could
live as I was sensible most did. — Next Lord's day, July
13, I had some special sweetness in religion. — Again,
Lord's day, July 20, my soul was in a sweet and precious
frame. " Some time in August following, I became so weakly
and disordered, by too close application to my studies,
that I was advised by my tutor to go home, and disengage
my mind from study, as much as I could ; for I was
grown so weak, that I began to spit blood. I took his
advice, and endeavoured to lay aside my studies. But
being brought very low, I looked death in the face more
stedfastly ; and the Lord was pleased to give me renewed-
ly a sweet sense and relish of divine things ; and particu
larly, October 13, I found divine help and consolation in
the precious duties of secret prayer and self-examination,
and my soul took delight in the blessed God : — so likewise
on the 17th of October.
" Saturday, Oct. 18. In my morning devotions, my
soul was exceedingly melted, and bitterly mourned over
my exceeding sinfulness and vileness. I never before had
felt so pungent and deep a sense of the odious nature of
sin, as at this time. My soul was then unusually carried
forth in love to God, and had a lively sense of God's love
to me. And this love and hope, at that time, cast out fear.
Both morning and evening I spent some time in self-ex

amination, to find the truth of grace, as also my fitness to
approach to God at his table the next day ; and through
infinite grace, found the Holy Spirit influencing my soul
with love to God, as a witness within myself.
" Lord's day, Oct. 19. In the morning I felt my soul
hungering and thirsting after righteousness. In the fore
noon, while I was looking on the sacramental elements,
and thinking that Jesus Christ would soon be " set forth
crucified before me," my soul was filled with light and
love, so that I was almost in an ecstasy ; my body was so
weak, I could scarcely stand. I felt at the same time an
exceeding tenderness and most fervent love towards all
mankind ; so that my soul and all the powers of it seemed,
as it were, to melt into softness and sweetness. But
during the communion, there was some abatement of this
life and fervour. This love and joy cast out fear; and
my soul longed for perfect grace and glory. This frame
continued till the evening, when my soul was sweetly
spiritual in secret duties.
" Monday, Oct. 20. I again found the assistance of the
Holy Spirit in secret duties, both morning and evening, and
life and comfort in religion through the whole day. — Tues
day, Oct. 21. I had likewise experience of the goodness of
God in " shedding abroad his love in my heart," and
giving me delight and consolation in religious duties ; and
all the remaining part of the week, my soul seemed to be
taken up with divine things. I now so longed after God,
and to be freed from sin, that when I felt myself recover
ing, and thought I must return to college again, which had
proved so hurtful to my spiritual interest the year past, 1
could not but be grieved, and I thought I had much rather
have died ; for it distressed me to think of gettingaway from
God. But before I went, I enjoyed several other sweet
and precious seasons of communion with God, (particu
larly Oct. 30, and Nov. 4,) wherein my soul enjoyed un
speakable comfort.
" I returned to college about Nov. G, and, through the
goodness of God, felt the power of religion almost daily,
for the space of six weeks. — Nov. 28. In my evening
devotion, I enjoyed precious discoveries of God, and was
unspeakably refreshed with that passage, Heb. xii. 22—24.
My soul longed to wing away for the paradise of God ; I
longed to be conformed to God in all things. — A day or
two after, I enjoyed much of the light of God's counte
nance, most of the day ; and my soul rested in God.
" Tuesday, Dec. 9. I was in a comfortable frame of
soul most of the day ; but especially in evening devotions,
when God was pleased wonderfully to assist and strengthen
me ; so that I thought nothing should ever move me from
the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord  O ! one hour
with God infinitely exceeds all the pleasures and delights
of this lower world.
" Some time towards the latter end of January, 1741, 1
grew more cold and dull in religion, by means of my old
temptation, viz. ambition in my studies. — Bu through
divine goodness, a great and general awakening spread
itself over the college, about the latter end of February, in
which I was much quickened, and more abundantly en
gaged in religion."
This awakening was at the beginning of that extraordi
nary religious commotion through the land, which is fresh
in every one's memory. It was for a time very great and
general at New-Haven ; and the college had no small share
in it. That society was greatly reformed, the students in
general became serious, many of them remarkably so, and
much engaged in the concerns of their eternal salvation.
And however undesirable the issue of the awakenings of
that day have appeared in many others, there have been
manifestly happy and abiding effects of the impressions
then made on the minds of many of the members of that
college. And by all that I can learn concerning Mr.
Brainerd, there can be no reason to doubt but that he had
much of God's gracious presence, and of the lively actings
of true grace, at that time : but yet he was afterwards
abundantly sensible, that his religious experiences and
affections at that time were not free from a corrupt mix
ture, nor his conduct to be acquitted from many things
that were imprudent and blamable ; which he greatly la
mented himself, and was desirous that others should not
make an ill use of such an example. And therefore, al-

Part I

A. D. 1718—1742. ZET. 1—24.

321

iftough at the time he kept a constant diary, containing a
very particular account of what passed from day to day,
for the next thirteen months, from the latter end of Jan.
1741, forementioned, in two small books, which he called
the two first volumes of his diary, next following the ac
count before given of his convictions, conversion, and con
sequent comforts ; yet, when he lay on his death-bed, he
gave order (unknown to me till after his death) that these
two volumes should be destroyed, and in the beginning of
the third book of his diary, he wrote thus, (by the hand of
another, he not being able to write himself,) " The two
preceding volumes, immediately following the account of
the author's conversion, are lost. If any are desirous to
know how the author lived, in general, during that space
Of time, let them read the first thirty pages of this volume ;
where they will find something of a specimen of his ordi
nary manner of living, through that whole space of time,
which was about thirteen months ; excepting that here he
was more refined from some imprudencies and indecent
heats, than there ; but the spirit of devotion running through
the whole was the same."
It could not be otherwise than that one whose heart had
been so prepared and drawn to God, as Mr. Brainerd's
had been, should be mightily enlarged, animated, and en
gaged at the sight of such an alteration made in the col
lege, the town, and country ; and so great an appearance
of men reforming their lives, and turning from their pro
faneness and immorality to seriousness and concern for
their salvation, and of religion reviving and flourishing
almost every where. But as an intemperate, imprudent
zeal, and a degree of enthusiasm, soon crept in, and
mingled itself with that revival of religion ; and so great
and general an awakening being quite a new thing in the
land, at least as to all the living inhabitants of it ; neither
people nor ministers had learned thoroughly to distinguish
between solid religion and its delusive counterfeits. Even
many ministers of the gospel, of long standing and the
best reputation, were for a time overpowered with the
glaring appearances of the latter ; and therefore, surely it
was not to be wondered at, that young Brainerd, but a
sophomore at college, should be so ; who was not only
young in years, but very young in religion and experience.
He had enjoyed but little advantage for the study of
divinity, and still less for observing the circumstances and
events of such an extraordinary state of things. To think
it strange, a man must divest himself of all reason. In
these disadvantageous circumstances, Brainerd had the
unhappiness to have a tincture of that intemperate, indis
creet zeal, which was at that time too prevalent ; and was
led, from his high opinion of others whom he looked upon
as better than himself, into such errors as were really con
trary to the habitual temper of his mind. One instance
of his misconduct at that time, gave great offence to the
rulers of the college, even to that degree that they expelled
him the society ; which it is necessary should here be par
ticularly related, with its circumstances.
During the awakening at college, there were several re
ligious students who associated together for mutual con
versation and assistance in spiritual things. These were
wont freely to open themselves one to another, as special
and intimate friends : Brainerd was one of this company.
And it once happened, that he and two or three more of
these intimate friends were in the hall together, after Mr.
Whittelsey, one of the tutors, had been to prayer there
with the scholars ; no other person now remaining in the
hall but Brainerd and his companions. Mr. Whittelsey
having been unusually pathetical in his prayer, one of
Brainerd's friends on this occasion asked him what he
thought of Mr. Whittelsey ; he made answer, " He has no
more grace than this chair." One of the freshmen happen
ing at that time to be near the hall (though not in the
room) over-heard those words. This person, though he
heard no name mentioned, and knew not who was thus
censured, informed a certain woman in the town, withal
telling her his own suspicion, . is. that he believed Brainerd
said this of some one or other of the rulers of the college.
Whereupon she went and informed the rector, who sent
for this freshman and examined him. He told the rector
* Particularly under the date, Wednesday, Sept. 14, 1743-1
VOL. II. Y

the words he heard Brainerd utter, and informed him who
were iu the room with him at that time. Upon which the
rector sent for them : they were very backward to inform
against their friend what they looked upon as private con
versation, and especially as none but they had heard or
knew of whom he had uttered those words : yet the rector
compelled them to declare what he said, and of whom he
said it.  Brainerd looked on himself very ill used in the
management of this affair ; and thought, that it was in
juriously extorted from his friends, and then injuriously
required of him — as if he had been guilty of some open,
notorious crime — to make a public confession, and to
humble himself before the whole college in the hall, for
what he had said only in private conversation. — — He not
complying with this demand, and having gone once to the
separate meeting at New-Haven, when forbidden by the
rector ; and also having been accused by one person of
saying concerning the rector, " that he wondered he did
not expect to drop down dead for fining the scholars who
followed Mr. Tennent to Milford, though there was no
proof of it; (and Mr. Brainerd ever professed that he did
not remember his saying any thing to that purpose ;) for
these things he was expelled the college.
Now, how far the circumstances and exigencies of that
day might justify such great severity in the governors of
the college, I will not undertake to determine ; it being
my aim, not to bring reproach on the authority of the col
lege, but only to do justice to the memory of a person,
who was I think eminently one of those whose memory is
blessed. — The reader will see, in the sequel of the story of
Mr. Brainerd's life,* what his own thoughts afterwards
were of his behaviour in these things, and in how chris
tian a manner he conducted himself, with respect to this
affair : though he ever, as long as he lived, supposed him
self ill used in the management of it, and in what he suf
fered. — His expulsion was in the winter, 1742, while in
his third year at college.

PART II.
FROM ABOUT THE TIME THAT HE FIRST BEGAN TO DE
VOTE HIMSELF MORE ESPECIALLY TO THE STUDY OF
DIVINITY, TILL HE WAS EXAMINED AND LICENSED TO
PREACH, BY THE ASSOCIATION OF MINISTERS BELONG
ING TO THE EASTERN DISTRICT OF THE COUNTY OF
FAIRFIELD, IN CONNECTICUT.
Mr. Brainerd, the Spring after his expulsion, went to
live with the Reverend Mr. Mills, of Ripton, to pursue
his studies with him, in order to his being fitted for the
work of the ministry ; where he spent the greater part of
the time, till the Association licensed him to preach ; but
frequently rode to visit the neighbouring ministers, parti
cularly Mr. Cooke of Stratford, Mr. Graham of South-
bury, and Mr. Bellamy of Bethlehem. While with Mr.
Mills, he began the third book of his diary, in which the
account he wrote of himself, is as follows.
" Thursday, April 1, 1742. I seem to be declining,
with respect to my life and warmth in divine things ; had
not so free access to God in prayer as usual of late. O
that God would humble me deeply in the dust before
him ! I deserve hell every day, for not loving my Lord
more, who has, I trust, loved me, and given himself for me;
and every time I am enabled to exercise any grace renew-
edly, I am renewedly indebted to the God of all grace for
special assistance. Where then is boasting? Surely it is
excluded, when we think how we are dependent on God
for the being and every act of grace. Oh, if ever I get to-
heaven, it will be because God will, and nothing else ; for
I never did any thing of myself, but get away from God !
My soul will be astonished at the unsearchable riches of
divine grace, when I arrive at the mansions, which the
blessed Saviour is gone before to prepare.
" Friday, April 2. In the afternoon I felt, in secret

3-2

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

prayer, much resigned, calm, and serene. What are all the
storms of this lower world, if Jesus by his Spirit does but
come walking on the seas! — Some time past, I had much
pleasure in the prospect of the heathen being brought
home to Christ, and desired that the Lord would employ
me in that work : — but now, my soul more frequently de
sires to die, to be with Christ. O that my soul were wrapt
up in divine love, and my longing desires after God in
creased ! — In the evening, was refreshed in prayer, with
the hopes of the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the
world. " Saturday, April 3. Was very much amiss this morn
ing, and had a bad night. I thought, if God would take
me to himself now, my soul would exceedingly rejoice.
O that I may be always humble and resigned to God,
and that he would cause my soul to be more fixed on
himself, that I may be more fitted both for doing and
suffering !
" Lord's day, April 4. My heart was wandering and
lifeless. In the evening God gave me faith in prayer,
made my soul melt in some measure, and gave me to taste
a divine sweetness. O my blessed God ! Let me climb
up near to him, and love, and long, and plead, and wres
tle, and stretch after him, and for deliverance from the
body of sin and death. — Alas! my soul mourned to think
I should ever lose sight of its beloved again. ' O come,
Lord Jesus, Amen.' "
On the evening qf the next day, he complains, that he
seemed to be void of all relish of divine things, felt much
of the prevalence of corruption, and saw in himself a dis
position to all manner of sin ; which brought a very great
gloom on his mind, and cast him down into the depths of
melancholy; so that he speaks of himself as amazed, hav
ing no comfort, but filled with horror, seeing no comfort in
heaven or earth.
" Tuesday, April 6. I walked out this morning to the
same place where I was last night, and felt as I did then ;
but was somewhat relieved by reading some passages in
my diary, and seemed to feel as if I might pray to the
great God again with freedom ; but was suddenly struck
with a damp, from the sense I had of my own vileness. —
Then I cried to God to cleanse me from my exceeding
filthiness, to give me repentance and pardon. I then be
gan to find it sweet to pray; and could think of under
going the greatest sufferings, in the cause of Christ, with
pleasure; and found myself willing, if God should so
order it, to suffer banishment from my native land, among
the heathen, that I might do something for their salvation,
in distresses and deaths of any kind. — Then God gave me
to wrestle earnestly for others, for the kingdom of Christ
in the world, and for dear christian friends. — I felt weaned
from the world, and from my own reputation amongst
men, willing to be despised, and to be a gazing-stock for
the world to behold. — It is impossible for me to express
how I then felt: I had not much joy, but some sense of
the majesty of God, which made me as it were tremble. I
saw myself mean and vile, which made me more willing
that God should do what he would with me ; it was all
infinitely reasonable.
" Wednesday, April 7. I had not so much fervency,
but felt something as I did yesterday morning, in prayer.
— At noon I spent some time in secret, with some fer
vency, but scarce any sweetness ; and felt very dull in the
evening. " Thursday, April 8. Had raised hopes to-day re
specting the heathen. O that God would bring in gi'eat
numbers of them to Jesus Christ ! I cannot but hope I
shall see that glorious day.— Every thing in this world
seems exceeding vile and little to me : 1 look so on my
self. — I had some little dawn of comfort to-day in prayer;
but especially to-night, I think I had some faith and
power of intercession with God. I was enabled to plead
with God for the growth of grace in myself; and many
of the dear children of God then lay with weight upon
my soul. Blessed be the Lord ! It is good to wrestle for
divine blessings.
" Friday, April 9. Most of my time in morning devo
tion was spent without sensible sweetness ; yet I had one
delightful prospect of arriving at the heavenly world. I
am more nmazed than ever at such thoughts ; for I see

myself infinitely vile and unworthy. I feel very heartless
and dull ; and though 1 long for the presence of God, and
seem constantly to reach towards God in desires ; yet I
cannot feel that divine and heavenly sweetness that I used
to enjoy. — No poor creature stands in need of divine grace
more than I, and none abuse it more than I have done,
and still do.
" Saturday, April 10. Spent much time in secret
prayer this morning, and not without some comfort in
divine things ; and, I hope, had some faith in exercise :
but am so low, and feel so little of the sensible presence of
God, that I hardly know what to call faith, and am made
to possess the sins of my youth, and the dreadful sin of my
nature. I am all sin ; I cannot think, nor act, but every
motion is sin. — I feel some faint hopes, that God will, of
his infinite mercy, return again with showers of converting
grace to poor gospel-abusing sinners; and my hopes of
being employed in the cause of God, which of late have
been almost extinct, seem now a little revived. O that all
my late distresses and awful apprehensions might prove
but Christ's school, to make me fit for greater service, by
teaching me the great lesson of humility !
" Lord's day, April 11. In the morning I felt but little
life, excepting that my heart was somewhat drawn out in
thankfulness to God for his amazing grace and condescen
sion to me, in past influences and assistances of his Spirit.
— Afterwards, I had some sweetness in the thoughts of
arriving at the heavenly world. O for the happy day ! —
After public worship God gave me special assistance in
prayer ; I wrestled with my dear Lord, with much sweet
ness ; and intercession was made a delightful employment
to me. — In the evening, as I was viewing the light in the
north, I was delighted in contemplation on the glorious
¦morning ofthe resurrection.
" Monday, April 12. This morning the Lord was
pleased to fift up the light of his countenance upon me in
secret prayer, and made the season very precious to my
soul. And though I have been so depressed of late, re
specting my hopes of future serviceableness in the cause
of God ; yet now I had much encouragement respecting
that matter. I was especially assisted to intercede and
plead for poor souls, and for the enlargement of Christ's
kingdom in the world, and for special grace for myself, to
fit me for special services. I felt exceedingly calm, and
quite resigned to God, respecting my future employment,
when and where he pleased. My faith lifted me above the
world, and removed all those mountains, that I could not
look over of late. I wanted not the favour of man to lean
upon; for I knew Christ's favour was infinitely better,
and that it was no matter when, nor where, nor how Christ
should send me, nor what trials he should still exercise
me with, if I might be prepared for his work and will. I
now found revived, in my mind, the wonderful discovery
of infinite wisdom in all the dispensations of God towards
me, which I had a little before I met with my great trial
at college ; every thing appeared full of divine wisdom.
" Tuesday, April 13. I saw myself to be very mean
and vile ; and wondered at those that showed me respect.
Afterwards I was somewhat comforted in secret retire
ment, and assisted to wrestle with God, with some power,
spirituality, and sweetness. Blessed be the Lord, he is
never unmindful of me, but always sends me needed sup-
Elies ; and, from time to time, when I am like one dead,
e raises me to life. O that I may never distrust infinite
goodness !
" Wednesday, April 14. My soul longed for commu
nion with Christ, and for the mortification of indwelling
corruption, especially spiritual pride. O there is a sweet
day coming, wherein the weary will be at rest ! My soul
has enjoyed much sweetness this day in the hopes of its
speedy arrival.
" Thursday, April 15. My desires apparently centred
m God, and I found a sensible attraction of soul after him
sundry times to-day. I know I long for- God, and a con
formity to his will, in inward purity and holiness, ten
thousand times more than for any thing here below.
" Friday and, Saturday, April 16, 17. I seldom prayed
without some sensible joy in the Lord. Sometimes I
longed much to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. O that
God would enable me to grow in grace every day ! Alas !

Part II.

A. D. 1742. APRIL— JULY. >£T. 25.

323

my barrenness is such, that God might well say, Cut it
down. — I am afraid of a dead heart on the sabbath now
begun :* O that God would quicken me by his grace !
" Lord's day, April 18. I retired early this morning
into the woods for prayer ; had the assistance of God's
Spirit, and faith in exercise ; and was enabled to plead
with fervency for the advancement of Christ's kingdom in
the world, and to intercede for dear absent friends.  At
noon, God enabled me to wrestle with him, and to feel, as
I trust, the power of divine love in prayer.  At night I
saw myself infinitely indebted to God, and had a view of
my shortcomings : it seemed to me, that I had done as it
were nothing for God, and that I never had lived to him
but a few hours of my life.
" Monday, April 19. I set apart this day for fasting,
and prayer to God for his grace ; especially to prepare me
for the work of the ministry, to give me divine aid and
direction in my preparations for that great work, and in
his own time to send rne into his harvest. Accordingly, in
the morning, I endeavoured to plead for the divine pre
sence for the day, and not without some life. In the fore
noon, I felt the power of intercession for precious, im
mortal souls ; for the advancement of the kingdom of my
dear Lord and Saviour in the word ; and withal, a most
^weet resignation, and even consolation and joy in the
thoughts of suffering hardships, distresses, and even death
itself, in the promotion of it ; and had special enlargement
in pleading for the enlightening and conversion of the poor
heathen. In the afternoon, God was with me of a truth. O
it was blessed company indeed ! God enabled me so to
agonize in prayer, that I was quite wet with perspiration,
though in the shade, and the cool wind. My soul was
drawn out very much for the world; for multitudes of
souls. I think I had more enlargement for sinners, than
for the children of God ; though 1 felt as if I could spend
my life in cries for both. I enjoyed great sweetness in
communion with my dear Saviour. I think I never in my
life felt such an entire weanedness from this world, and so
much resigned to God in every thing. — O that I may
always live to and upon my blessed God ! Amen, Amen.
" Tuesday, April 20. This day I am twenty-four years
of age. O how much mercy have I received the year
past! How often has God caused his goodness to pass be
fore me ! And how poorly have I answered the vows I
made this time twelvemonth, to be wholly the Lord's, to
he for ever devoted to his service ! The Lord help me to
live more to his glory for the time to come. — This has
been a sweet, a happy day to me : blessed be God. I
think my soul was never so drawn out in intercession for
others, as it has been this night. Had a most fervent
wrestle with the Lord to-night for my enemies; and I
hardly ever so longed to live to God, and to be altogether
devoted to him; I wanted to wear out my life in his
service, and for bis glory.
" Wednesday, April 21. Felt much calmness and
resignation, and God again enabled me to wrestle for
numbers of souls, and had much fervency in the sweet
duty of intercession. I enjoyed of late more sweetness in
intercession for others, than in any other part of prayer.
My blessed Lord really let me come near to him, and plead
with him."
The frame of mind, and exercises of soul, that he ex
presses the three days next following, Thursday, Friday, and
Saturday, are much of the same kind with those expressed
the two days past.
" Lord's day, April 25. This morning I spent about
two hours in secret duties, and was enabled more than
ordinarily to agonize for immortal souls ; though it was
early in the morning, and the sun scarcely shined at all,
yet my body was quite wet with sweat. I felt much
pressed now, as frequently of late, to plead for the meek
ness and calmness of the Lamb of God in my soul ; and
through divine goodness felt much of it this morning. O
it is a sweet disposition, heartily to forgive all injuries
done us ; to wish our greatest enemies as well as we do
our own souls ! Blessed Jesus, may I daily be more and
more conformed to thee. At night I was exceedingly
melted with divine love, and had some feeling sense of the
* In America, they begin to keep the Lord's day from six o'clock oil.
Y 2

blessedness of the upper world. Those words hung upon
me, with much divine sweetness, Psal Ixxxiv. 7. ' They
go from strength to strength, every one of them in Zion
appeareth before God.' O the near access that God
sometimes gives us in our addresses to him ! This may
well be termed appearing before God : it is so indeed, in
the true spiritual sense, and in the sweetest sense. I think
I have not had such power of intercession these manv
months, both for God's children, and for dead sinners, as I
have had this evening. I wished and longed for the
coming of my dear Lord : I longed to join the angelic
hosts in praises, wholly free from imperfection. O the
blessed moment hastens ! All I want is to be more holy,
more like my dear Lord. O for sanctification ! My very
soul pants for the complete restoration of the blessed
image of my Saviour ; that I may be fit for the blessed
enjoyments and employments of the heavenly world.
' Farewell, vain world ; my soul can bid adieu ;
My Saviour's taught me to abandon you.
Your charms may gratify a sensual mind ;
Not please a soul wholly for God design'd.
Forbear to entice, cease then my soul to call ;
'Tis fix'd through grace ; my God shall be my all.
While he thus lets me heavenly glories view,
Your beauties fade, my heart's no room for you.
" The Lord refreshed my soul with many sweet passages
of his word. O the new Jerusalem ! my soul longed for
it. O the song of Moses and the Lamb ! And that blessed
song, that no man can learn, but they who are redeemed
from the earth ! and the glorious white robes, that were
given to the souls under the altar !
' Lord, I'm a stranger here alone ;
Earth no true comforts can afford;
Yet, absent from my dearest one.
My soul delights to cry, My Lord.
Jesus, my Lord, my only love,
Possess ray soui, nor thence depart ;
Grant me kind visits, heavenly Dove ;
My God shall then have all my heart'
" Monday, April 26. Continued in a sweet frame of
mind; but in the afternoon felt something of spiritual pride
stirring. God was pleased to make it an humbling season
at first ; though afterwards he gave me sweetness. O my
soul exceedingly longs for that blessed state of perfect
deliverance from all sin ! — At night, God enabled me to
give my soul up to him, to cast myself upon him, to be
ordered and disposed of according to his sovereign plea
sure; and I enjoyed great peace and consolation in so
doing. My soul took sweet delight in God ; my thoughts
freely and sweetly centred in him. O that I could spend
every moment of my life to his glory !
" Tuesday, April 27. I retired pretty early for secret
devotions ; and in prayer God was pleased to pour such
ineffable comforts into my soul, that I could do nothing
for some time but say over and over, ' O my sweet Sa
viour ! O my sweet Saviour ! whom have I in heaven but
thee ? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside
thee.' If I had had a thousand lives, my soul would
gladly have laid them all down at once to have been with
Christ. My soul never enjoyed so much of heaven be
fore; it was the most refined and the most spiritual season
of communion with God I ever yet felt. I never felt so
great a degree of resignation in my life. In the afternoon
I withdrew to meet with my God, but found myself much
declined, and God made it an humbling season to my soul.
I mourned over the body qf death that is in me. It grieved
me exceedingly, that I could not pray to and praise God
with my heart full of divine heavenly love. — O that my
soul might never offer any dead, cold services to my God !
— In the evening had not so much divine love, as in the
morning ; but had a sweet season of fervent intercession.
" Wednesday, April 28. I withdrew to my usual place
of retirement in great peace and tranquillity, spent about
two hours in secret duties, and felt much as I did yester
day morning, only weaker and more overcome. I seemed
to depend wholly on my dear Lord ; wholly weaned from
all other dependences. I knew not what to say to my
God, but only lean on his bosom, as it were, and breathe
Saturday evening.

324

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

out my desires after a perfect conformity to him in all
things. Thirsting desires, and insatiable longings, possess
ed my soul after perfect holiness. God was so precious to
my soul, that the world with all its enjoyments was in
finitely vile. I had no more value for the favour of men,
than for pebbles. The Lord was my All ; and that he
overruled all, greatly delighted me. I think, my faith
and dependence on God scarce ever rose so high. I saw
him such a fountain of goodness, that it seemed impossi
ble I should distrust him again, or be any way anxious
about any thing that should happen to me. I now enjoy
ed great sweetness in praying for absent friends, and for the
enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world. — Much of
the power of these divine enjoyments remained with me
through the day. — In the evening my heart seemed to
melt, and, I trust, was really humbled for indwelling cor
ruption, and I mourned like a dove. I felt, that all my
unhappiness arose from my being a sinner. With resigna
tion I could bid welcome to all other trials ; but sin hung
heavy upon me ; for God discovered to me the corruption
of my heart. I went to bed with a heavy heart, because
I was a sinner; though I did not in the least doubt of
God's love. O that God would purge away my dross, and
take away my tin, and make me seven times refined !
" Thursday, April 29. I was kept off at a distance
from God ; — but had some enlargement in intercession for
precious souls.
" Friday, April 30. I was somewhat dejected in spirit :
nothing grieves me so much, as that I cannot live con
stantly to God's glory. I could bear any desertion or
spiritual conflicts, if I could but have my heart all the
while burning within me with love to God and desires of
his glory. But this is impossible ; for when I feel these,
I cannot be dejected in my soul, but only rejoice in my
Saviour, who has delivered me from the reigning power,
and will shortly deliver me from the indwelling of sin.
" Saturday, May 1. I was enabled to cry to God with
fervency for ministerial qualifications, that he would appear
for the advancement of his own kingdom, and that he
would bring in the heathen, &c. Had much assistance
in my studies. — This has been a profitable week to me ;
I have enjoyed many communications of the blessed Spirit
in my soul.
" Lord's day, May 2. God was pleased this morning to
give me such a sight of myself, as made me appear very
vile in my own eyes. I felt corruption stirring in my heart,
which I could by no means suppress ; felt more and more
deserted ; was exceeding weak, and almost sick with my
inward trials.
" Monday, May 3. Had a sense of vile ingratitude.
In the morning I withdrew to my usual place of retirement,
and mourned for my abuse of my dear Lord : spent the
day in fasting and prayer. God gave me much power of
wrestling for his cause and kingdom ; and it was a happy
day to my soul. God was with me all the day, and I was
more above the world than ever in my life."
Through the remaining part of this week he complains
almost every day of desertion, inward trials and conflicts,
attended with dejection of spirit ; but yet speaks of times
of relief and sweetness, and daily refreshing visits of the
divine Spirit, affording special assistance and comfort, and
enabling, at some times, to much fervency and enlargement
in religious duties.
" Lord's day, May 9. I think I never felt so much of
the cursed pride of my heart, as well as the stubbornness of
my will, before. Oh dreadful ! what a vile wretch I am !
I could submit to be nothing, and to lie down in the
dust. O that God would humble me in the dust! I felt
myself such a sinner, all day, that I had scarce any com
fort. O when shall I be delivered from the body of this
death! I greatly feared, lest through stupidity and care
lessness I should lose the benefit of these trials. O that
they might be sanctified to my soul ! Nothing seemed to
touch me but only this, that I was a sinner. — Had a
fervency and refreshment in social prayer in the even
ing. " Monday, May 10. I rode to New-Haven ; saw some
christian friends there ; and had comfort in joining in prayer
*The application which was then made on his behalf, had not the deinred

with them, and hearing of the goodness of God to them,
since I last saw them.
" Tuesday, May 11. . I rode from New-Haven to Wea-
thersfield ; was very dull most of the day ; had little
spirituality in this journey, though I often longed to be
alone with God ; was much perplexed with vile thoughts;
was sometimes afraid of every thing : but God was my
helper. — Catched a little time for retirement in the even
ing, to my comfort and rejoicing. Alas ! I cannot live in
the midst of a tumult. I long to enjoy God alone.
" Wednesday, May 12. I had a distressing view of the
pride, enmity, and vileness of my heart. — Afterwards had
sweet refreshment in conversing, and worshipping God,
with christian friends.
" Thursday, May 13. Saw so much of the wickedness
of my heart, that I longed to get away from myself. I
never before thought there was so much spiritual pride in
mv soul. I felt almost pressed to death with my own
vileness. Oh what a body qf death is there in me! Lord,
deliver my soul. I could not find any convenient place for
retirement, and was greatly exercised.— Rode to Hartford
in the afternoon : had some refreshment and comfort in re
ligious exercises with christian friends; but longed for
more retirement. O the closest walk with God is the
sweetest heaven that can be enjoyed on earth !
" Friday, May 14. I waited on a council of ministers
convened at Hartford, and spread before them the treat
ment I had met with from the rector and tutors of Yale
college ; who thought it adviseable to intercede for me
with the rector and trustees, and to entreat them to restore
me to my former privileges in college.* — After this, spent
some time in religious exercises with christian friends.
" Saturday, May 15. I rode from Hartford to Hebron;
was somewhat dejected on the road ; appeared exceeding
vile in my own eyes, saw much pride and stubbornness
in my heart. Indeed I never saw such a week as this be
fore; for I have been almost ready to die with the view of
the wickedness of my heart. I could not have thought I
had such a body qf death in me. Oh that God would
deliver my soul ! "
The three next days (which he spent at Hebron, Lebanon,
and Norwich) he complains still of dulness and desertion,
and expresses a sense of his vileness, and longing to hide
himself in some cave or den of the earth : but yet speaks
of some intervals of comfort and soul-refreshment each
day. " Wednesday, May 19. (At Millington) I was so
amazingly deserted this morning, that I seemed to feel a
sort of horror in my soul. Alas ! when God withdraws,
what is there that can afford any comfort to the soul ! "
Through the eight days next following he expresses more
calmness and comfort, and considerable life, fervency, and
sweetness in religion.
" Friday, May 28. (At New-Haven) I think I scarce
ever felt so calm in my life ; I rejoiced in resignation, and
giving myself up to God, to be wholly and entirely de
voted to him for ever."
On the three following days there was, by the account
he gives, a continuance of the same excellent frame of
mind, last expressed : but it seems not to be altogether to
so great a degree
" Tuesday, June 1 . Had much of the presence of God
in family prayer, and had some comfort in secret. I was
greatly refreshed from the word of God this morning,
which appeared exceeding sweet to me : some things that
appeared mysterious, were opened to me. O that the
kingdom ofthe dear Saviour might come with power, and
the healing waters of the sanctuary spread far and wide for
the healing of the nations ! — Came to Ripton ; but was
very weak. However, being visited by a number of young
people in the evening, I prayed with them."
The remaining part of tins week he speaks of being
much diverted and hindered in the business of religion,
by great weakness of body, and necessary affairs he had to
attend ; and complains of having but little power in re-
lirion ; but signifies, that God hereby showed him he
was like a be] pless infant cast out in the open field.
" Lord's dairy June 6. I feel much deserted : but all

Part II.

A. D. 1742. APRIL— JULY. MT. 25.

325

this teaches me my nothingness and vileness more than
ever. " Monday, June 7. Felt still powerless in secret prayer.
Afterwards I prayed and conversed with some little life.
God feeds me with crumbs : blessed be his name for any
thing. I felt a great desire, that all God's people might
know how mean and little and vile I am ; that they might
see I am nothing, that so they might pray for me aright,
and not have the least dependence upon me.
" Tuesday, June 8. I enjoyed one sweet and precious
season this day : I never felt it so sweet to be nothing,
and less than nothing, and to be accounted nothing."
The three next days he complains of desertion, and want
of fervency in religion ; but yet his diary shows that every
day his heart was engaged in religion, as his great, and, as
it were, only business.
" Saturday, June 1 2 . Spent much time in prayer this
morning, and enjoyed much sweetness : — felt insatiable
longings after God much of the day. I wondered how
poor souls do to live that have no God. — The world, with
all its enjoyments, quite vanished. I see myself very
helpless : but I have a blessed God to go to. I longed
exceedingly to be dissolved, and to be with Christ, to be
hold his glory. Oh, my weak, weary soul longs to arrive
at my Father's house !
" Lord's day, June 13. Felt something calm and resigned
in the public worship : at the sacrament saw myself very
vile and worthless. O that I may always lie low in the
dust. My soul seemed steadily to go forth after God, in
longing desires to live upon him.
" Monday. June 14. Felt something of the sweetness
of communion with God, and the constraining force of his
love : how admirably it captivates the soul, and makes all
the desires and affections to centre in God 1 — I set apart
this day for secret fasting and prayer, to entreat God to
direct and bless me with regard to the great work I have
in view, of preaching the gospel ; and that the Lord would
return to me, and show me the light qf his countenance.
Had little life and power in the forenoon : near the middle
of the afternoon, God enabled me to wrestle ardently in
intercession for absent friends : — but just at night, the
Lord visited me marvellously in prayer : I think my soul
never was in such an agony before. I felt no restraint ; for
the treasures of divine grace were opened to me. I
wrestled for absent friends, for the ingathering of souls,
for multitudes of poor souls, and for many that I thought
were the children of God, personally, in many distant
places. I was in such an agony, from sun half an hour
high, till near dark, that I was all over wet with sweat ;
but yet it seemed to me that I had wasted away the day,
and had done nothing. Oh, my dear Jesus did sweat
blood for poor souls ! I longed for more compassion to
wards them. — Felt still in a sweet frame, under a sense of
divine love and grace ; and went to bed in such a frame,
with my heart set on God.
" Tuesday, June 15. Had the most ardent longings
after God that ever I felt in my life : at noon, in my
secret retirement, I could do nothing but tell my dear
Lord, in a sweet calm, that he knew I longed for nothing
but himself, nothing but holiness ; that he had given me
these desires, and he only could give me the thing desired.
I never seemed to be so unhinged from myself, and to be
so wholly devoted to God. My heart was swallowed up
in God most of the day. In the evening I had such a
view of the soul being as it were enlarged, to contain
more holiness, that it seemed ready to separate from
my body. I then wrestled in an agony for divine bless
ings ; had my heart drawn out in prayer for some chris
tian friends, beyond what I ever had before. — I feel differ
ently now from whatever I did under any enjoyments
before ; more engaged to live to God for ever, and less
pleased with my own frames. I am not satisfied with my
frames, nor feel at all more easy after such stragglings
than before ; for it seems far too little, if I could always
be so. Oh how short do I fall of my duty in my sweetest
moments !"'
In his diary for the two next days he expresses something
of the same frame, but in a far less degree*
* Here end the 30 first pages of the third volume of his diary, which he
speaks of in the beginning of this volume, (as observed before,) as contain-

" Friday, Jane 18. Considering my great unfitness for
tlie work of the ministry, my present deadness, and total
inability to do any thing for the glory of God that way,
feeling myself very helpless, and at a great loss what the
Lord would have me to do ; I set apart this day for prayer
to God, and spent most of the day m that duty, but amaz
ingly deserted most of the day. Yet I found God
graciously near, once in' particular; while I was pleading
for more compassion for immortal souls, my heart seemed
to be opened at once, and I was enabled to cry with great
ardency, for a few minutes. — Oh, I was distressed to think,
that I should offer such dead, cold services to the living
God ! My soul seemed to breathe after holiness, a life of
constant devotedness to God. But I am almost lost some
times in tne pursuit of this blessedness, and ready to sink,
because I continually fall short and miss of my desire. O
that the Lord would help me to hold out, yet a little while,
till the happy hour of deliverance comes !
" Saturday, June 19. Felt much disordered ; my spirit-
were very low : but yet enjoyed some freedom and sweet
ness in the duties of religion. Blessed be God.
" Lord's day, June 20. Spent much time alone. My
soul longed to be holy, and reached after God ; but
seemed not to obtain my desire. I hungered and thirsted ;
but was not refreshed and satisfied. My soul hung on
God, as my only portion. O that I could grow in grace
more abundantly every day !"
The next day he speaks of his having assistance in his
studies, and power, fervency, and comfort in prayer.
" Tuesday, June 22. In the morning spent about two
hours in prayer and meditation, with considerable delight.
Towards night, felt my soul go out in longing desires after
God, in secret retirement. In the evening, was sweetly
composed and resigned to God's will ; was enabled to
leave myself and all my concerns with him, and to have
my whole dependence upon him. My secret retirement was
very refreshing to my soul ; it appeared such a happiness
to have God for my portion, that I had rather be any other
creature in this lower creation, than not come to the en
joyment of God. I had rather be a beast, than a man
without God, if I were to live here to eternity. Lord,
endear thyself more to me !"
In his diary for the next seven days he expresses a
variety of exercises of mind. He speaks of great longings
after God and holiness, and earnest desires for the conver
sion of others ; of fervency in prayer, power to wrestle
with God, composure, comfort, and sweetness, from time
to time ; but expresses a sense of the vile abomination of
his heart, and bitterly complains of his barrenness, and the
pressing body of death ; and says, he " saw clearly that
whatever he enjoyed, better than hell, was of free grace."
He complains of being exceeding low, much below
the character of a child of God ; and is sometimes very
disconsolate and dejected.
" Wednesday, June 30. Spent this day alone in the woods,
in fasting and prayer ; underwent the most dreadful con
flicts in my soul that ever I felt, in some respects. I saw
myself so vile, that I was ready to say, " I shall now perish
by the hand of Saul." I thought, and almost concluded,
I had no power to stand for the cause of God, but was
almost " afraid of the shaking of a leaf." Spent almost
the whole day in prayer, incessantly. I could not bear to
think of Christians showing me any respect. I almost
despaired of doing any service in the world : I could not
feel any hope or comfort respecting the heathen, which
used to afford me some refreshment in the darkest hours
of this nature. I spent the day in the bitterness of my
soul. Near night, I felt a little better ; and afterwards
enjoyed some sweetness in secret prayer.
" Thursday, July 1. Had some sweetness in prayer this
morning. — Felt exceeding sweetly in secret prayer to-night,
and desired nothing so ardently as that God should do with
me just as he pleased.
" Friday, July 2. Felt composed in secret prayer in the
morning. — My desires ascended to God this day, as I was
travelling : and was comfortable in the evening. Blessed
be God for all my consolations.
"Saturday, July 3. My heart seemed again to sink.
ing a specimen of his ordinary manner of living, through the whole space
of time, from the beginning of those two volumes that were destroyed.

326

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

The disgrace I was laid under at college, seemed to damp
me ; as it opens the mouths of opposers. I had no refuge
but in God. Blessed be his name, that I may go to him
at all times, and find him a present help.
" Lor-d's day, July 4. Had considerable assistance. In
the evening 1 withdrew, and enjoyed a happy season in
secret prayer. God was pleased to give me the exercise
of faith, and thereby brought the invisible and eternal
world near to my soul ; which appeared sweetly to me. I
hoped, that my weary pilgrimage in the world would be
short ; and that it would not be long before I was brought
to my heavenly home and Father's house. I was resigned
to God's will, to tarry his time, to do his work, and suffer
his pleasure. I felt thankfulness to God for all my press
ing desertions of late ; for I am persuaded they have been
made a means of making me more humble, and much
more resigned. I felt pleased, to be little, to be nothing,
and to lie in the dust. I enjoyed life and consolation
in pleading for the dear children of God, and the kingdom
of Christ in the world ; and my soul earnestly breathed
after holiness, and the enjoyment of God. O come, Lord
Jesus, come quickly."
By his diary for the remaining days qf this week, it ap
pears that he enjoyed considerable composure and tran
quillity, and had sweetness and fervency of spirit in prayer,
from day to day.
" Lord's day, July 1 1 . Was deserted, and exceedingly
dejected, in the morning. In the afternoon, had some life
and assistance, and felt resigned. I saw myself exceeding
vile." On the two next days he expresses inward comfort, re
signation, and strength in God.
" Wednesday, July 14. Felt a kind of humble resigned
sweetness : spent a considerable time in secret, giving my
self up wholly to the Lord. — Heard Mr. Bellamy preach
towards night : felt very sweetly part of the time : longed
for nearer access to God."
The four next days he expresses considerable comfort
and fervency of spirit, in christian conversation and reli
gious exercises.
" Monday, July 19. My desires seem especially to be
earned out after weanedness from the world, perfect dead
ness to it, and to be even crucified to all its allurements.
My soul longs to feel itself more of a pilgrim and
stranger here below; that nothing may divert me from
pressing through tbe lonely desert, till I arrive at my Fa
ther's house.
" Tuesday, July 20. It was sweet to give away myself
to God, to be disposed of at his pleasure ; and had some
feeling sense of the sweetness of being a pilgrim on earth."
The next day he expresses himself as determined to be
wholly devoted to God ; and it appears by his diary, that
he spent the whole day in a most diligent exercise of re
ligion, and exceeding comfortably.
" Thursday, July 22. Journeying from Southbury to
Ripton, I called at a house by the way ; where being very
kindly entertained and refreshed, I was filled with amaze
ment and shame, that God should stir up the hearts of any
to show so much kindness to such a dead dog as I ; was
made sensible, in some measure, how exceedingly vile it is,
not to be wholly devoted to God. I wondered that God
would suffer any of his creatures to feed and sustain me
from time to time."
In his diary for the six next days are expressed various
exercises and experiences ; such as, sweet composure and
fervency of spirit in meditation and prayer, weanedness
from the world, being sensibly a pilgrim and stranger on
the earth, engagedness of mind to spend every inch of time
for God, &c.
" Thursday, July 29. I was examined by the Associa
tion met at Danbury, as to my learning, and also my ex
periences in religion, and received a licence from them to
preach the gospel of Christ. Afterwards felt much de
voted to God ; joined in prayer with one of the ministers,
my peculiar friend, in a convenient place ; went to bed re
solving to live devoted to God all my days.

* It was in a place near Kent, in the western borders of Connecticut,

PART III.
FROM THE TIME OF HIS BEING LICENSED TO PREACH BY
THE ASSOCIATION, TILL HE WAS EXAMINED IN NEW
YORK, BY THE CORRESPONDENTS, OR COMMISSIONERS
OF THE SOCIETY IN SCOTLAND FOR PROPAGATING
CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE, AND APPROVED AND APPOINT
ED AS THEIR MISSIONARY TO THE INDIANS.
" Friday, July 30, 1742. Rode from Danbury to South-
bury ; preached there from 1 Pet. iv. 8. ' And above all
things have fervent charity,' &c. Had much of the com
fortable presence of God in the exercise. I seemed to have
power with God in prayer, and power to get hold of the
hearts of the people in preaching.
"Saturday, July 31. Exceeding calm and composed,
and was greatly refreshed and encouraged."
It appears by his diary, that he continued in this sweet
ness and tranquillity almost through the whole of the next
week. " Lord's day, Aug. 8. In the morning I felt comfortably
in secret prayer ; my soul was refreshed with the hopes of
the heathen coming home to Christ ; was much resigned
to God, and thought it was no matter what became of me.
— Preached both parts of the day at Bethlehem, from Job
xiv. 14. " If a man die, shall he live again," &c. It was
sweet to me to meditate on death. In the evening felt
very comfortably, and cried to God fervently in secret
prayer." It appears by his diary, that he continued through the
three next days engaged with all his might in the business
of religion, and in almost a constant enjoyment of the com
forts of it.
" Thursday, Aug. 12. This morning and last night 1
was exercised with sore inward trials : I had no power to
pray ; but seemed shut out from God. I had in a great
measure lost my hopes of God sending me among the hea
then afar off, and of seeing them flock home to Christ. I
saw so much of my hellish vileness, that I appeared worse
to myself than any devil : I wondered that God would le t
me live, and wondered that people did not stone me, much
more that they would ever hear me preach ! It seemed as
though I never could nor should preach any more ; yet
about nine or ten o'cloek, the people came over, and I was
forced to preach. And blessed be God, he gave me his
presence and Spirit in prayer and preaching : so that I was
much assisted, and spake with power from Job xiv. 14.
Some Indians cried out in great distress,* and all appear
ed greatly concerned. After we had prayed and exhorted
them to seek the Lord with constancy, and hired an Eng
lishwoman to keep a kind of school among them, we came
away about one oclock, and came to Judea, about fifteen
or sixteen miles. There God was pleased to visit my soul
with much comfort. Blessed be the Lord for all things I
meet with."
It appears that the two next days he had much comfort,
and had his heart much engaged in religion.
" Lord's day, Aug. 15. Felt much comfort and devoted
ness to God this day. At night it was refreshing to get
alone with God, and pour out my soul. O who can con
ceive of the sweetness of communion with the blessed
God, but those who have experience of it ! Glory to God
for ever, that I may taste heaven below.
" Monday, Aug. 16. Had some comfort in secret prayer,
in the morning. — Felt sweetly sundry times in prayer this
day : but was much perplexed in the evening with vain
conversation. " Tuesday, Aug. 17. Exceedingly depressed in spirit, it
cuts and wounds my heart, to think how much self-exalta
tion, spiritual pride, and warmth qf temper, I have for
merly had intermingled with my endeavours to promote
God's work : and sometimes I long to lie down at the feet
of opposers, and confess what a poor imperfect creature I
have been, and still am. Oh, the Lord forgive me, and
make me for the future " wise as a serpent, and harmless
as a dove ! " Afterwards enjoyed considerable comfort and
delight of soul.
where there is a number of Indians.

Part III.

A. D. 1742. JULY— NOVEMBER. /ET. 25.

327

" Wednesday, Aug. 18. Spent most of this day in prayer
and reading. — I see so much of my own extreme vileness, that
I feel ashamed and guilty before God and man ; I look to
myself like the vilest fellow in the land : I wonder that
God stirs up his people to be so kind to me.
" Thursday, Aug. 19. This day, being about to go from
Mr. Bellamy's at Bethlehem, where I nad resided some
time, I prayed with him, and two or three other christian
friends. We gave ourselves to God with all our hearts,
to be his for ever : eternity looked very near to me, while
I was praying. If I never should see these Christians
again in this world, it seemed but a few moments before I
should meet them in another world.
" Friday, Aug. 20. I appeared so vile to myself, that I
hardly dared to think of being seen especially on account
of spiritual pride. However, to-night I enjoyed a sweet
hour alone with God (at Ripton) : I was lifted above the
frowns and flatteries of this lower world, had a sweet relish
of heavenly joys, and my soul did as it were get into the
eternal world, and really taste of heaven. I had a sweet
season of intercession for dear friends in Christ ; and God
helped me to cry fervently for Zion. Blessed be God for
this season.
" Saturday, Aug. 21. Was much perplexed in the morn
ing. — Towards noon enjoyed more of God in secret, was
enabled to see that it was best to throw myself into the
hands of God, to be disposed of according to his pleasure,
and rejoiced in such thoughts. In the afternoon rode to
New-Haven ; was much confused all the way. — Just at
night underwent such a dreadful conflict as I have scarce
ever felt. I saw myself exceedingly vile and unworthy ;
so that I was guilty, and ashamed that any body should
bestow any favour on me, or show me any respect.
" Lord's day, Aug. 22. In the morning, continued still
in perplexity. — In the evening, enjoyed that comfort that
seemed to me sufficient to overbalance all my late
distresses. I saw that God is the only soul-satisfying
portion, and I really found satisfaction in him. My soul
was much enlarged in sweet intercession for my fellow-
men every where, and for many christian friends in parti
cular, in distant places.
"Monday, Aug. 23. Had a sweet season in secret prayer :
the Lord drew near to my soul, and filled me with peace
and divine consolation. 0 my soul tasted the sweetness
of the upper world ; and was drawn out in prayer for the
world, tnat it might come home to Christ ! Had much
comfort in the thoughts and hopes of the ingathering of
the heathen ; was greatly assisted in intercession for chris
tian friends."
He continued still in the same frame of mind the next
day, but in a lesser degree.
" Wednesday, Aug. 25. In family prayer, God helped
me to climb up near him, so that I scarce ever got nearer."
The four next days, he appears to have been the subject
of desertion, and of comfort, and fervency in religion, in
terchangeably, together with a sense of vileness and un
profitableness. " Monday, Aug. 30. Felt something comfortably in the
morning ; conversed sweetly with some friends ; was in a
serious composed frame ; and prayed at a certain house
with some degree of sweetness. Afterwards, at another
house, prayed privately with a dear christian friend or
two ; and I think I scarce ever launched so far into the
eternal world as then ; I got so far out on the broad
ocean that my soul with joy triumphed over all the evils
on the shores of mortality. I think time, and all its gay
amusements and cruel disappointments, never appeared so
inconsiderable to me before. I was in a sweet frame ; I
saw myself nothing, and my soul reached after God with
intense desire. 0 ! I saw what I owed to God, in such a
manner, as I scarce ever did : I knew I had never lived
a moment to him as I should do ; indeed it appeared to
me I had never done any thing in Christianity : my soul
longed with a vehement desire to live to God. — In the
evening, sung and prayed with a number of Christians :
felt the powers ofthe world to come in my soul, in prayer.
Afterwards prayed again privately, with a dear Christian
or two, and found the presence of God ; was something
humbled in my secret retirement : felt my ingratitude, be
cause I was not wholly swallowed up in 'God."

He was in a sweet frame great part of the next day.
" Wednesday, Sept. 1 . Went to J udea, to the ordination
of Mr. Judd. Dear Mr. Bellamy preached from Matt.
xxiv. 46. ' Blessed is that servant,' &c. I felt very solemn
most of the time ; had my thoughts much on that time
when our Lord will come ; that time refreshed my soul
much ; only I was afraid I should not be found faithful,
because I had so vile a heart. My thoughts were much
in eternity, where I love to dwell." Blessed be God for
this solemn season. — Rode home to-night with Mr. Bel
lamy, conversed with some friends till it was very late,
and then retired to rest in a comfortable frame.
" Thursday, Sept. 2. About two in the afternoon I
preached from John vi. 67. ' Then said Jesus unto the
twelve, Will ye also go away V and God assisted me in
some comfortable degree ; but more especially in my first
prayer : my soul seemed then to launch quite into the
eternal world, and to be as it were separated from this
lower world. — Afterwards preached again from Isa. v. 4.
' What could have been done more,' &c. God gave me
some assistance ; but I saw myself a poor worm."
On Friday, Sept. 3. He complains of having but little
life in the things of God, the former part of the day, but
afterwards speaks of sweetness and enlargement.
" Saturday, Sept. 4. Much out of health, exceedingly de
pressed in my soul, and at an awful distance from God . —
Towards night spent some time in profitable thoughts on
Rom. viii. 2. ' For the law of the spirit of life,' &c. —
Near night had a very sweet season in prayer ; God en
abled me to wrestle ardently for the advancement of the
Redeemer's kingdom ; pleaded earnestly for my own dear
brother John, that God would make him more of a pil
grim and stranger on the earth, and fit him for singu
lar serviceableness in the world ; and my heart sweetly
exulted in the Lord, in the thoughts of any distresses
that might alight on him or me, in the advancement of
Christ's kingdom. — It was a sweet and comfortable hour
unto my soul, while I was indulged with freedom to plead,
not only for myself, but also for many other souls.
" Lord's day, Sept. 5. Preached all day : was somewhat
strengthened and assisted in the afternoon ; more especi
ally in the evening : had a sense of my unspeakable short
comings in all my duties. I found, alas ! that I had never
lived to God in my life.
" Monday, Sept. 6. Wras informed, that they only waited
for an opportunity to apprehend me for preaching at New-
Haven lately, that so they might imprison me. This made
me more solemn and serious, and to quit all hopes of the
world's friendship : it brought me to a further sense of
my vileness, and just desert of this, and much more, from
the hand of God, though not from the hand of man. Re
tired into a convenient place in the woods, and spread the
matter before God.
" Tuesday, Sept. 7. Had some relish of divine things in
the morning. Afterwards felt more barren and melan
choly. Rode to New-Haven, to a friend's house at a dis
tance from the town ; that I might remain undiscovered,
and yet have opportunity to do business privately with
friends which come to commencement.
" Wednesday, Sept. 8. Felt very sweetly when I first
rose in the morning. In family prayer had some enlarge
ment, but not much spirituality, till eternity came up be
fore me, and looked near : I found some sweetness in the
thoughts of bidding a dying farewell to this tiresome
world. Though some time ago I reckoned upon seeing
my dear friends at commencement ; yet being now denied
the opportunity, for fear of imprisonment, I felt totally re
signed, and as contented to spend this day alone in the
woods, as I could have done, if I had been allowed to go
to town. Felt exceedingly weaned from the world to-day.
— In the afternoon I discoursed on divine things with'a
dear christian friend, whereby we were both refreshed.
Then I prayed, with a sweet sense of the blessedness of
communion with God : I think I scarce ever enjoyed more
of God in any one prayer. O it was a blessed season in
deed to my soul ; I know not that ever I saw so much of
my own nothingness in my life ; never wondered so, lhat
God allowed me to preach his word  This has been a
sweet and comfortable day to my soul. Blessed be God.
— Prayed again with my dear friend, with something of

328

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

the divine presence. — I long to be wholly conformed to
God, and transformed into his image.
" Thursday, Sept. 9. Spent much of the day alone :
enjoyed the presence of God in some comfortable degree :
was visited by some dear friends, and prayed with them :
wrote sundry letters to friends ; felt religion in my soul
while writing : enjoyed sweet meditations on some scrip
tures. — In the evening, went very privately into town,
from the place of my residence at the farms, and conversed
with some dear friends ; felt sweetly in singing hymns
with them : and made mv escape to the farms again,
without being discovered by any enemies, as I knew of.
Thus the Lord preserves me continually.
" Friday, Sept. 10. Longed with intense desire after
God ; my whole soul seemed impatient to be conformed
to him, and to become ' holy, as he is holy.' — In the
afternoon, prayed with a dear friend privately, and had
the presence of God with us ; our souls united together to
reach after a blessed immortality, to be unclothed of the
body of sin and death, and to enter the blessed world,
where no unclean thing enters. 0, with what intense
desire did our souls long for that blessed day, that we
might be freed from sin, and for ever live to and in our
God ! — In the evening, took leave of that house ; but first
kneeled down and prayed ; the Lord was of a truth in the
midst of us ; it was a sweet parting season ; felt in myself
much sweetness and affection in the things of God.
Blessed be God for every such divine gale of his Spirit,
to speed me on in my way to the new Jerusalem ! — Felt
some sweetness afterwards, and spent the evening in con
versation with friends, and prayed with some life, and
retired to rest very late."
The five next days he appears to have been in an
exceeding comfortable frame of mind, for the most part,
and to have been the subject of the like heavenly exercises
as are often expressed in preceding passages of his diary ;
such as, having his heart much engaged for God, wrestling
with him in prayer with power and ardency ; enjoying at
times sweet calmness and composure of mind, giving
himself up to God to be his for ever, with great compla
cence of mind ; being wholly resigned to the will of God,
that he might do with him what he pleased ; longing to
improve time, having the eternal world as it were brought
nigh ; longing after God and holiness, earnestly desiring a
complete conformity to him, and wondering how poor
souls do to exist without God.
" Thursday, Sept. 16. At night enjoyed much of God
in secret prayer : felt an uncommon resignation, to be and
do what God pleased. Some days past I felt great per
plexity on account of my past conduct : my bitterness, and
want of christian kindness and love, has been very distress
ing to my soul : the Lord forgive me my unchristian
warmth, and want of a spirit of meekness 1"
The next day he speaks of much resignation, calmness,
and peace of mind, and near views of the eternal world.
" Saturday, Sept. 18. Felt some compassion for souls,
and mourned I had no more. I feel much more kindness,
meekness, gentleness, and love towards all mankind, than
ever. I long to be at the feet of my enemies and persecu
tors : enjoyed some sweetness, in feeling my soul conformed
to Christ Jesus, and given away to him for ever."
The next day he speaks of much dejection and dis
couragement, from an apprehension of his own unfitness
ever to do any good in preaching ; but blesses God for all
dispensations of providence and grace ; finding that by
all God weaned him more from the world, and made him
more resigned.
The next ten days he appears to have been for the most
part under great degrees of melancholy, exceedingly
dejected and discouraged : speaks of his being ready to
give up all for gone respecting the cause of Christ, and
exceedingly longing to die : yet had some sweet seasons
and intervals of comfort, and special assistance and en
largement in the duties of religion, and in performing public
services, and considerable success in them .
" Thursday, Sept. 30. Still very low in spirits ; I did
not know how to engage in any work or business, espe
cially to correct some disorders among Christians ; felt as
though I had no power to be faithful in that regard.
However, towards noon I preached from Deut, viii. 2.

L And thou shalt remember,' &c. and was enabled with free
dom to reprove some things in Christians' conduct, that I
thought very unsuitable and irregular ; insisted near two
hours on this subject."
Through this and the two following weeks he passed
through a variety of exercises : he was frequently dejected,
and felt inward distresses ; and sometimes sunk into the
depths of melancholy : at which turns he was not exer
cised about the state of his soul, with regard to the favour
of God, and his interest in Christ, but about his own sinful
infirmities, and unfitness for God's service. His mind
appears sometimes extremely depressed and sunk with a
sense of inexpressible vileness. But in the mean time lie
speaks of many seasons of comfort and spiritual refresh
ment, wherein his heart was encouraged and strengthened
in God, and sweetly resigned to his will ; of some seasons of
very high degrees of spiritual consolation, and of his great
longings after holiness and conformity to God ; of his
great fear of offending God, and of his heart being sweetly
melted in religious duties ; of his longing for the advance
ment of Christ's kingdom, of his having at times much
assistance in preaching, and of remarkable effects on the
auditory. " Lord's day, Oct. 17. Had a considerable sense of
my helplessness and inability ; saw that I must be depen
dent on God for all I want ; and especially when I went
to the place of public worship. I found I could not
speak a word for God without his special help and assist
ance. I went into the assembly trembling, as I frequently
do, under a sense of my insufficiency to do any thing in
the cause of God, as I ought to do. — But it pleased God
to afford me much assistance, and there seemed to be a
considerable effect on the hearers. — In the evening I felt a
disposition to praise God, for his goodness to me, that he
had enabled me in some measure to be faithful ; and my
soul rejoiced to think, that I had thus performed the work
of one day more, and was one day nearer my eternal, and
I trust my heavenly, home. O that I might be " faithful
to the death, fulfilling as an hireling my day," till the
shades of the evening of life shall free my soul from the
toils of the day ! This evening, in secret prayer, I felt
exceeding solemn, and such longing desires after deliver
ance from sin, and after conformity to God, as melted my
heart. Oh, I longed to be " delivered from this body of
death !" I felt inward pleasing pain, that I could not be
conformed to God entirely, fully, and for ever. — I scarce
ever preach without being first visited with inward con
flicts and sore trials. Blessed be the Lord for these trials
and distresses as they are blessed for my humbling.
" Monday, Oct. 18. In the morning I felt some sweet
ness, but still pressed through trials of soul. My life is a
constant mixture of consolations and conflicts, and will be
so till I arrive at the world of spirits.
" Tuesday, Oct. 19. This morning and last night I felt
a sweet longing in my soul after holiness. My soul
seemed so to reach and stretch towards the mark of perfect
sanctity, that it was ready to break with longings.
" Wednesday, Oct. 20. Exceeding infirm in body, exer
cised with much pain, and very lifeless in divine things.—
Felt a little sweetness in the evening.
" Thursday, Oct. 21. Had a very deep sense of the
vanity of the world most of the day ; had little more
regard to it than if I had been to go into eternity the next
hour. Through divine goodness, I felt very serious and.
solemn. O, I love to live on the brink of eternity, in my
views and meditations ! Tbis gives me a sweet, awful, and
reverential sense and apprehension of God and divine
things, when I see myself as it were standing before the
judgment-seat of Christ.
" Friday, Oct. 22. Uncommonly weaned from the
world to-day : my soul delighted to be a stranger and
pi/grim on the earth ; I felt a disposition in me never to
have any thing to do with this world. The character given
of some of the ancient people of God, in Heb. xi. 13.
was very pleasing to me, ' They confessed that they were
pilgrims and strangers on the earth,' by their daily prac
tice; and 0 that I could always do so! — Spent some
considerable time in a pleasant grove, in prayer and medi
tation. 0 it is sweet to be thus weaned from friends, and
from myself, and dead to the present world, that so I may

Part III.

A. D. 1742. JULY-NOVEMBER. MT. 25.

329

live wholly to and upon the blessed God ! Saw myself
little, low, and vile in myself. — In the afternoon preached
at Bethlehem, from Deut. viii. 2. God helped me to speak
to the hearts of dear Christians. Blessed be the Lord for
this season : I trust they and I shall rejoice on this account
to all eternity. — Dear Mr. Bellamy came in, while I was
making the first prayer ; (being returned home from a
journey ;) and after meeting we walked away together,
and spent the evening in sweetly conversing on divine
things, and praying together, with sweet and tender love
to each other, and returned to rest with our hearts in a
serious spiritual frame.
" Saturday, Oct. 23. Somewhat perplexed and con
fused. Rode this day from Bethlehem to Simsbury.
" Lord's day, Oct. 24. Felt so vile and unworthy, that
I scarce knew how to converse with human creatures.
" Monday, Oct. 25. [At Turky-Hills] In the evening
I enjoyed the divine presence in secret prayer. It was a
sweet and comfortable season to me ; my soul longed for
God, for the living God : enjoyed a sweet solemnity of
spirit, and longing desire after the recovery of the divine
image in my soul. ' Then shall I be satisfied, when I
shall awake in God's likeness,' and never before.
" Tuesday, Oct. 26. [At West-Sufneld] Underwent
the most dreadful distresses, under a sense of my own
unworthiness. It seemed to me, I deserved rather to be
driven out of the place, than to have any body treat me
with any kindness, or come to hear me preach. And
verily my spirits were so depressed at this time, (as at
many others,) that it was impossible I should treat im
mortal souls with faithfulness. I could not deal closely
and faithfully with them, I felt so infinitely vile in myself.
Oh, what dust and ashes I am, to think of preaching the
gospel to others ! Indeed I never can be faithful for one
moment, but shall certainly ' daub with untempered
mortar,' if God do not grant me special help. — In the
evening I went to the meeting-house, and it looked to me
near as easy for one to rise out of the grave and preach, as
for me. However, God afforded me some life and power,
both in prayer and sermon ; and was pleased to lift me
up, and show me that he could enable me to preach. O
the wonderful goodness of God to so vile a sinner ! — Re
turned to my quarters ; and enjoyed some sweetness in
praver alone, and mourned that I could not live more to
God. " Wednesday, Oct. 27. I spent the forenoon in prayer
and meditation ; was not a little concerned about preach
ing in the afternoon : felt exceedingly without strength, and
very helpless indeed ; and went into the meeting-house,
ashamed to see any come to hear such an unspeakably
worthless wretch. However, God enabled me to speak
with clearness, power, and pungency. But there was
some noise and tumult in the assembly, that I did not
well like ; and endeavoured to bear public testimony
against it with moderation and mildness, through the
current of my discourse. — In the evening, was enabled to
be in some measure thankful and devoted to God."
The frames and exercises of his mind during the four
next days were mostly very similar to those of the two days
past ; excepting intervals of considerable degrees of divine
peace and consolation.
The things expressed within the space of the three fol
lowing days are such as these ; some seasons of dejection,
mourning for being so destitute of the exercises of grace,
longing to be delivered from sin, pressing after more of
God, seasons of sweet consolation, precious and intimate
converse with God in secret prayer, sweetness of christian
conversation, &c. — Within this time he rode from Suffield
to Eastbury, Hebron, and Lebanon.
" Thursday, Nov. 4. [At Lebanon] Saw much of my
nothingness most of this day : but felt concerned that I
had no more sense of my insufficiency and unworthiness.
O it is sweet lying in the dust ! But it is distressing to feel
in my soul that hell of corruption, which still remains in
me. — In the afternoon, had a sense of the sweetness of a
strict, close, and constant devotedness to God, and my
soul was comforted with his consolations. My soul felt a
pleasing, yet painful concern, lest I should spend some
moments without God. O may I always live to God!—
In the evening, I was visited by some friends, and spent

the time in prayer and such conversation as tended to our
edification. It was a comfortable season to my soul : I
felt an intense desire to spend every moment for God.
God is unspeakably gracious to me continually. In times
past, he has given me inexpressible sweetness in the per
formance of duty. Frequently my soul has enjoyed much
of God; but has been ready to say, ' Lord, it is good to
be here ;' and so to indulge sloth, while I have lived on the
sweetness of my feelings. But of late, God has been
pleased to keep my soul hungry, almost continually ; so
that I have been filled with a kind of pleasing pain.
When I really enjoy God, I feel my desires of hirri the
more insatiable, and my thirstings after holiness the more
unquenchable ; and the Lord will not allow me to feel as
though I were fully supplied and satisfied, but keeps me
still reaching forward. I feel barren and empty, as though
I could not live without more of God ; I feel ashamed
and guilty before him. Oh! I see that 'the law is
spiritual, but I am carnal.' I do not, I cannot live to God.
Oh for holiness ! Oh for more of God in my soul ! Oh
this pleasing pain ! It makes my soul press after God ; the
language of it is, ' Then shall I be satisfied, when I awake
in God s likeness,' (Ps. xvii. ult.) but never, never before:
and consequently I am engaged to 'press towards the
mark' day by day. O that I may feel this continual
hunger, and not be retarded, but rather animated by every
cluster from Canaan, to reach forward in the narrow way,
for the full enjoyment and possession of the heavenly in
heritance ! O that I may never loiter in my heavenly
journey !"
These insatiable desires after God and holiness con
tinued the two next days, with a great sense of his own
exceeding unworthiness, and the nothingness of the things
of this world.
" Lord's day, Nov. 7. [At Millington] It seemed as if
such an unholy wretch as I never could arrive at that
blessedness, to be ' holy, as God is holy.' At noon I
longed for sanctification, and conformity to God. Oh,
that is the all, the all ! The Lord help me to press after
God for ever.
" Monday, Nov. 8. Towards night enjoyed much
sweetness in secret prayer, so that my soul longed for an
arrival in the heavenly country, the blessed paradise of
God. Through divine goodness, I have scarce seen the
day, for two months, but death has looked so pleasant to
me at one time or other of the day, that I could have re
joiced the present should be my last, notwithstanding my
pressing inward trials and conflicts. I trust the Lord will
finally make me a conqueror, and more than a conqueror ;
and that I shall be able to use that triumphant language,
' O death, where is thy sting !' And, ' O grave, where is
thy victory !' "
Within the next ten days the following things are ex
pressed : longing and wrestling to be holy, and to live to
God ; a desire that every single thought might be for God ;
feeling guilty, that his thoughts were no more swallowed
up in God ; sweet solemnity and calmness of mind ; sub
mission and resignation to God ; great weanedness from the
world ; abasement in the dust ; grief at some vain con
versation that was observed ; sweetness from time to time
in secret prayer, and in conversing and praying with chris
tian friends. And every day he appears to have been
greatly engaged in the great business of religion and living
to God, without interruption.
" Friday, Nov. 19. [At New-Haven] Received a letter
from the Reverend Mr. Pemberton of New York, desiring
me speedily to go down thither, and consult about the
Indian affairs in those parts ; and to meet certain gentle
men there who were intrusted with those affairs. My mind
was instantly seized with concern ; so I retired with two
or three christian friends, and prayed; and indeed it was a
sweet time with me. I was enabled to leave mvself and
all my concerns with God ; and taking leave of friends, I
rode lo Ripton, and was comforted in an opportunity to see
and converse with dear Mr. Mills."
In the four next following days he was sometimes op-
Sressed with the weight of that great affair, about which
Ir. Pemberton had written to him ; but was enabled from
time to time to " cast his burden on the Lord," and to
commit himself and all his concerns to him. He continued

330

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

still in a sense of the excellency of holiness, longings after
it, and earnest desires ofthe advancement of Christ's king
dom in the world ; and had from time to time sweet com
fort in meditation and prayer.
" Wednesday, Nov. 24. Came to New York; felt still
much concerned about the importance of my business;
put up many earnest requests to God for his help and di
rection ; was confused with the noise and tumult of the
city ; enjoved but little time alone with God ; but my soul
longed after him .
" Thursday, Nov. 25. Spent much time in prayer and
supplication : was examined by some gentlemen, of my
christian experiences, and my acquaintance with divinity,
and some other studies, in order to my improvement in
that important affair of gospellizingthe heathen ;* and was
made sensible of my great ignorance and unfitness for pub
lic service. I had the most abasing thoughts of myself, I
think, that ever I had ; I thought myself the worst wretch
that ever lived : it hurt me, and pained my very heart, that
any bodv should show me any respect. Alas ! methought,
how sadly they are deceived in me! how miserably would
they be disappointed, if they knew my inside ! Oh my
heart ! — And in this depressed condition I was forced to
go and preach to a considerable assembly, before some
grave and learned ministers ; but felt such a pressure from
a sense of my vileness, ignorance, and unfitness to appear
in public, that I was almost overcome with it ; my soul
was j grieved for the congregation; that they should sit
there to hear such a dead dog as I preach. I thought my
self infinitely indebted to the people, and longed that God
would reward them with the rewards of his grace. — I spent
much of the evening alone."

PART IV.
FROM THE TIME OF HIS EXAMINATION BY THE CORRE
SPONDENTS OF THE SOCIETY FOR PROPAGATING CHRIS
TIAN KNOWLEDGE, AND BEING APPOINTED THEIR MIS
SIONARY, TO HIS FIRST ENTRANCE ON THE BUSINESS OF
HIS MISSION AMONG THE INDIANS AT KAUNAUMEEK.
" Friday, Nov. 26. Had still a sense of my great vile
ness, and endeavoured as much as I could to keep alone.
Oh, what a nothing, what dust and ashes am I ! — Enjoyed
some peace and comfort in spreading my complaints before
the God of all grace.
" Saturday, Nov. 27. Committed my soul to God with
some degree of comfort; left New York about nine in the
morning; came away with a distressing sense still of my
unspeakable unworthiness. Surely I may well love all my
brethren ; for none of them all is so vile as I ; whatever they
do outwardly, yet it seems to me none is conscious of so
much guilt before God. Oh my leanness, my barrenness,
my carnality, and past bitterness, and want of a gospel-tem
per! These things oppress mv soul/ — Rode from New
York, thirty miles, to White Plains, and most of the way
continued lifting up my heart to God for mercy and puri
fying grace : and spent the evening much dejected in spirit."
The three next days he continued in this frame, in a
great sense of his own vileness, with an evident mixture of
melancholy, in no small degree ; but had some intervals of
comfort, and God's sensible presence with him.
" Wednesday, Dec. 1. Mv soul breathed after God, in
sweet spiritual and longing desires of conformity to him ;
my soul was brought to rest itself and all on his rich grace,
and felt strength and encouragement to do or suffer any
thing thatDivine Providence should allot me. — Rode about
twenty miles from Stratfield to Newton."
* These gentlemen who examined Mr. Brainerd, were the correspondents
in New YorK, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, of the honourable Society in
Scotland for propagating Christian Knowledge; to whom was committed the
management of their affairs in those parts, and who were now met at New
York t Mr. Brainerd, having now undertaken the business of a missionary to
the Indians, and expecting in a little time to leave his native country, to go
among the savages into the wilderness, far distant, and spend tbe remainder
of bis life among tbem — and having some estate left him by his father, and
thinking he should have no occasion for it among them, (though afterwards,

Within the space of the next nine days he went a jour
ney from Newton to Haddam, his native town ; and after
staying there some days, returned again into the western
part of Connecticut, and came to Southbury. In his ac
count ofthe frames and exercises of his mind, during this
space of time, are such things as these : frequent turns of
dejection ; a sense of his vileness, emptiness, and an un
fathomable abyss of desperate wickedness in his heart, at
tended with a conviction that he had never seen but little
of it ; bitterly mourning over his barrenness, being greatly
grieved that he could not live to God, to whom he owed
his all ten thousand times, crying out, " My leanness, my
leanness !" a sense of the meetness and suitableness of his
lying in the dust beneath the feet of infinite majesty ; fer
vency and ardour in prayer ; longing to live to God ; being
afflicted with some impertinent trifling conversation that he
heard; but enjoving sweetness in christian conversation.
" Saturday, Dec. 11. Conversed with a dear friend, to
whom I hail thought of giving a liberal education, and
being at the whole charge of it, that he might be fitted for
the gospel-ministry .f I acquainted him with my thoughts
in that matter, and so left him to consider of it, till I
should see him again. Then I rode to Bethlehem, came
to Mr. Bellamy's lodgings, and spent the evening with
him in sweet conversation and prayer. We recommended
the concern of sending my friend to college to the God of
all grace. Blessed be the Lord for this evening's oppor
tunity together.
" Lord's day, Dec. 12. I felt, in the morning as if I
had little or no power either to pray or preach ; and felt a
distressing need of divine help. I went to meeting trem
bling; but it pleased God to assist me in praver and ser
mon. I think my soul scarce ever penetrated so far into
the immaterial world, in any one prayer that ever I made,
nor were my devotions ever so free from gross conceptions
and imaginations framed from beholding material objects.
I preached with some sweetness, from Matt. vi. 33. ' But
seek ye first the kingdom of God,' &c. ; and in the after
noon from Rom. xv. 30. ' And now I beseech you,
brethren,' &c. There was much affection in the assembly.
This has been a sweet sabbath to me ; and blessed be
God, I have reason to think, that my religion is become
more spiritual, by means of my late inward conflicts.
Amen. May I always be willing that God should use his
own methods with me !
" Monday, Dec. 13. Joined in prayer with Mr. Bel
lamy ; and found sweetness and composure in parting
with him, as he went a journey. Enjoyed some sweet
ness through the day ; and just at night rode down to
Woodbury. " Tuesday, Dec. 14. Some perplexity hung on my
mind ; I was distressed last night and this morning, for the
interest of Zion, especially on account of the false appear
ances of religion, that do but rather breed confusion, espe
cially in some places. I cried to God for help, to enable
me to bear testimony against those things, which instead
of promoting, do but hinder the progress of vital piety.
In the afternoon rode down to Southbury ; and con
versed again with my friend about the important affair of
his pursuing the work of the ministry ; and he appeared
much inclined to devote himself to that work, if God
should succeed his attempts to qualify himself for so great
a work. In the evening I preached from 1 Thess. iv. 8.
' He therefore that despiseth,' &c. and endeavoured,
though with tenderness, to undermine false religion. The
Lord gave me some assistance ; but, however, I seemed .
so vile, I was ashamed to be seen when I came out of the
meeting-house. " Wednesday, Dec. 15. Enjoyed something of God
to-day, both in secret and social prayer ; but was sensible
of much barrenness, and defect in duty, as well as my
inability to help myself for the time to come, or to per-
as he told me, be found himself mistak en)— set himself to think which way
he might spend it most to the glory of God; and no way presenting to his
thoughts wherein he could do more good with it. than by being at the charge
of educating some young person for the ministry, who appeared to be of
good abilities, and well disposed, he fixed upon the person here spoken of to
this end. Accordingly he was soon put to learning ; and Mr. Brainerd con
tinued to be at the charge of his education from year to year, so long as he
lived, which was till this young man was carried through his third year in
college.

Part IV.

A. D. 1742, 1743. -ET. 25.

331

form the work and business I have' to do. Afterwards,
felt much of the sweetness of religion, and the tenderness
of the gospel-temper. I found a clear love to all mankind,
and was much afraid lest some motion of anger or resent
ment should, some time or other, creep into my heart.
Had some comforting soul-refreshing discourse with dear
friends, just as we took our leave of each other ; and sup
posed it might be likely we should not meet again till we
came to the eternal world* I doubt not, through grace,
but that some of us shall have a happy meeting there, and
bless God for this season, as well as many others. Amen.
" Thursday, Dec. 16. Rode down to Derby; and
had some sweet thoughts on the road : especially on the
essence of our salvation by Christ, from those words,
Thou shalt call his name Jesus, &cc.
" Friday, Dec. 17. Spent much time in sweet con
versation on spiritual things with dear Mr. Humphreys.
Rode to Ripton ; spent some time in prayer with dear
christian friends.
" Saturday, Dec. 18. Spent much time in prayer in
the woods ; and seemed raised above the things of the
world : my soul was strong in the Lord of hosts ; but was
sensible of great barrenness.
" Lord's day, Dec. 19. At the sacrament ofthe Lord's
supper, I seemed strong in the Lord ; and the world,
with all its frowns and flatteries, in a great measure dis
appeared, so that my soul had nothing to do with them :
and I felt a disposition to be wholly and for ever the
Lord's. — In the evening, enjoyed something of the divine
presence ; had a humbling sense of my vileness, barren
ness, and sinfulness. Oh, it wounded me, to think ofthe
misimprovement of time ! God be merciful to me a sin
ner. " Monday, Dec. 20. Spent this day in prayer, reading,
and writing; and enjoyed some assistance, especially in
correcting some thoughts on a certain subject ; but had a
mournful sense of my barrenness.
" Tuesday, Dec. 21. Had a sense of my insufficiency
for any public work and business, as well as to live to
God. I rode over to Derby, and preached there. It
pleased God to give me very sweet assistance and enlarge
ment, and to enable me to speak with a soft, tender power
and energy. — We had afterwards a comfortable evening in
singing and prayer. God enabled me to pray with as much
spirituality and sweetness as I have done for some time :
my mind seemed to be unclothed of sense and imagina
tion, and was in a measure let into the immaterial world
of spirits. This day was, I trust, through infinite good
ness, made very profitable to a number of us, to advance
our souls in holiness and conformity to God : the glory
be to him for ever. Amen. How blessed it is to grow
more and more like God.
" Wednesday, Dec. 22. Enjoyed some assistance in
preaching at Ripton ; but my soul mourned within me
for my barrenness.
" Thursday, Dec. 23. Enjoyed, I trust, something of
God this morning in secret. Oh how divinely sweet is it
to come into the secret of his presence, and abide in his
pavilion ! — Took an affectionate leave of friends, not ex
pecting to see them again for a very considerable time, if
ever in this world. Rode with Mr. Humphreys to his
house at Derby ; spent the time in sweet conversation ;
my soul was refreshed and sweetly melted with divine
things. Oh that I was always consecrated to God ! Near
night, I rode to New-Haven, and there enjoyed some
sweetness in prayer and conversation, with some dear
christian friends. My mind was sweetly serious and com
posed ; but alas ! I too much lost the sense of divine
things." He continued much in the same frame of mind, and in
like exercises, the two following days.
" Lord's day, Dec. 26. Felt much sweetness and ten
derness in prayer, especially my whole soul seemed to
love my worst enemies, and was enabled to pray for those
that are strangers and enemies to God with a great degree
of softness and pathetic fervour. In the evening, rode
from New-Haven to Branford, after I had kneeled down
* It had been determined by the commissioners, who employed Mr.
Brainerd as a missionary, that be should go as soon as might be convenient
ly to the Indians living near tbe Forks 0* Delaware river in Pennsylvania,

and prayed with a number of dear christian friends in a
very retired place in the woods, and so parted.
" Monday, Dec. 27. Enjoyed a precious season indeed ;
had a sweet melting sense of divine things, of the pure
spirituality of the religion of Christ Jesus. In the even
ing, I preached from Matt. vi. 33. ' But seek ye first,' &c.
with much freedom, and sweet power and pungency : the
presence of God attended our meeting. O the sweetness,
the tenderness I felt in my soul ! if ever I felt the tem
per of Christ, I had some sense of it now. Blessed be
my God, I have seldom enjoyed a more comfortable and
profitable day than this. O that I could spend all my
time for God !
" Tuesday, Dec. 28. Rode from Branford to Had
dam. In the morning, my clearness and sweetness in
divine things continued ; but afterwards my spiritual life
sensibly declined."
The next twelve days he was for the most part extremely
dejected, discouraged, and distressed ; and was evidently
very much under the power of melancholy. There are
from day to day most bitter complaints of exceeding vile
ness, ignorance, and corruption ; an amazing load of guilt,
unworthiness even to creep on God's earth, everlasting
uselessness, fitness for nothing, &c. and sometimes expres
sions even of horror at the thoughts of ever preaching
again. But yet in this time of great dejection, he speaks
of several intervals of divine help and comfort.
The three next days, which were spent at Hebron and
the Crank, (a parish in Lebanon,) he had relief, and en
joyed considerable comfort.
" Friday, Jan. 14, 1743. My spiritual conflicts to-day
were unspeakably dreadful, heavier than the mountains
and overflowing floods. I seemed enclosed, as it were,
in hell itself : I was deprived of all sense of God, even
of the being of a God ; and that was my misery. I had
no awful apprehensions of God as angry. This was dis
tress the nearest akin to the damneds' torments, that I
ever endured : their torment, I am sure, will consist much
in a privation of God, and consequently of all good. This
taught me the absolute dependence of a creature upon God
the Creator, for every crumb of happiness it enjoys. Oh !
I feel that if there is no God, thougn I might live for ever
here, and enjoy not only this, but all other worlds, I
should be ten thousand times more miserable than a toad.
My soul was in such anguish I could not eat ; but felt
as I suppose a poor wretch would that is just going to the
place of execution. I was almost swallowed up with
anguish, when I saw people gathering together, to hear
me preach. However, I went in that distress to the house
of God, and found not much relief in the first prayer : it
seemed as if God would let loose the people upon me to
destroy me ; nor were the thoughts of death distressing to
me, like my own vileness. But afterwards, in my discourse
from Deut. viii. 2. God was pleased to give me some
freedom and enlargement, some power and spirituality ;
and I spent the evening somewhat comfortably. '
The two next days his comfort continues, and he seems
to enjoy an almost continual sweetness of soul in the
duties and exercises of religion and christian conversation.
On Monday was a return of the gloom he had been under
the Friday before. He rode to Coventry this day, and the
latter part of the day had more freedom. On Tuesday he
rode to Canterbury, and continued more comfortable.
" Wednesday, Jan. 19. [At Canterbury] In the afternoon
preached the lecture at the meeting-house ; felt some ten
derness, and something of the gospel-temper : exhorted the
people to love one another, and not to set up their own
frames as a standard to try all their brethren by. But was
much pressed, most of the day, with a sense of my own
badness, inward impurity, anil unspeakable corruption.
Spent the evening in loving, christian conversation.
" Thursday, Jan. 20. Rode to my brother's house be
tween Norwich and Lebanon; and preached in the even
ing to a number of people : enjoyed neither freedom nor
spirituality, but saw myself exceeding unworthy.
" Friday, Jan. 21. Had great inward conflicts ; enjoyed
but little comfort. Went to see Mr. Williams of Leba-
and the Indians on Susquehannah river ; which being far off, where also he
would be exposed to many hardships and dangers, was Uie occasion of his
taking leave of his friends in this manner.

332

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

non, and spent several hours with him ; and was greatly
delighted with his serious, deliberate, and impartial way of
discourse about religion."
The next day he was much dejected.
" Lord's day, Jan. 23. I scarce ever felt myself so un
fit to exist, as now: saw I was not worthy of a place
among the Indians, where I am going, if God permit :
thought I should be ashamed to look them in the face, and
much more to have any respect shown me there. Indeed
I felt myself banished from the earth, as if all places were
too good for such a wretch. I thought I should be
ashamed to go among the very savages of Africa ; I ap
peared to myself a creature fit for nothing, neither heaven
nor earth. — None know, but those who feel it, what the
soul endures that is sensibly shut out from the presence of
God : alas ! it is more bitter than death."
On Monday he rode to Stoningtown, Mr. Fish's parish.
— On Tuesday he expresses considerable degrees of spi
ritual comfort and refreshment.
" Wednesday, Jan. 26. Preached to a pretty large as
sembly at Mr. Fish's meeting-house : insisted on humility,
and stedfastness in keeping God's commands ; and that
through humility we should prefer one another in love, and
not make our own frames the rule by which we judge
others. I felt sweetly calm, and full of brotherly love;
and never more free from party spirit. I hope some good
will follow; that Christians will be freed from false joy,
and party zeal, and censuring one another."
On Thursday, after considerable time spent in prayer and
christian conversation, he rode to New London.
" Friday, Jan. 28. Here I found some fallen into ex
travagances ; too much carried away with a false zeal and
bitterness. Oh, the want of a gospel-temper is greatly to
be lamented. Spent the evening in conversing about some
points of conduct in both ministers and private Christians;
but did not agree with them. God had not taught them
with briers and thorns to be of a kind disposition towards
mankind." On Saturday he rode to East Haddam, and spent the
three following days there. In that space of time he speaks
of his feeling weanedness from the world, a sense of the
nearness of eternity, special assistance in praying for the
enlargement of Christ s kingdom, times of spiritual com
fort, &c.
" Wednesday, Feb. 2. Preached my farewell sermon,
last night, at the house of an aged man, who had been un
able to attend on the public worship for some time. This
morning spent the time in prayer, almost wherever I went;
and having taken leave of friends, I set out on my journey
towards the Indians ; though I was to spend some time at
East Hampton on Long Island, by leave of the commis
sioners who employed me in the Indian affair ; * and being
accompanied by a messenger from East-Hampton, we
travelled to Lyme. On the road I felt an uncommon
pressure of mind : I seemed to struggle hard for some
pleasure in some here below, and seemed loth to give up
all for gone ; saw I was evidently throwing myself into all
hardships and distresses in my present undertaking. I
thought it would be less difficult to lie down in the grave ;
but yet I chose to go, rather than stay. — Came to Lyme
that night."
He waited the two next days for a passage over the
Sound, and spent much of the time in inward conflicts and
dejection, but had some comfort.
On Saturday he crossed the Sound, and landed at
Oyster-Ponds on Long Island, and travelled from thence
to East Hampton. And the seven following days he spent
there, for the most part, under extreme dejection and
gloominess of mind, with great complaints of darkness,
ignorance, &c. Yet his heart appears to have been con
stantly engaged in the great business of religion, much con
cerned for the interest of religion in East Hampton, and
praying and labouring much for it.
" Saturday, Feb. 12. Enjoyed a little more comfort;
was enabled to meditate with some composure of mind ;
and especially in the evening, found my soul more refresh
ed in prayer, than at any time of late; my soul seemed to
* The reason why the commissioners or correspondents did not order
Mr. Brainerd to go immediately to the Indians, and enter on his business as
a missionary, was, that the winter was not judged to be a convenient season

' take hojd of God's strength,' and was comforted with his
consolations. O how sweet are some glimpses of divine
glory ! how strengthening and quickening !
" Lord's day, Feb. 13. At noon under a great degree of
discouragement ; knew not how it was possible for me to
preach in the afternoon. I was ready to give up all for
gone ; but God was pleased to assist me in some measure.
In the evening, my heart was sweetly drawn out after
God, and devoted to him."
The next day he had comfort and dejection inter
mingled. " Tuesday, Feb. 15. Early in the day I felt some com
fort; afterwards I walked into a neighbouring grove, and
felt more as a stranger on earth, I think, than ever before ;
dead to any of the enjoyments of the world, as if I had
been dead in a natural sense. — In the evening, had divine
sweetness in secret duty : God was then my portion, and
my soul rose above those deep waters, into which I have
sunk so low of late. — My soul then cried for Zion, and
had sweetness in so doing."
This sweet frame continued the next morning ; but after
wards his inward distress returned.
" Thursday, Feb. 17. In the morning found myself
comfortable, and rested on God in some measure. — Preach
ed this day at a little village belonging to East Hampton ;
and God was pleased lo give me his gracious presence and
assistance, so that I spake with freedom, boldness, and
some power. In the evening, spent some time with a dear
christian friend ; and felt serious, as on the brink of eter
nity. My soul enjoyed sweetness in lively apprehensions
of standing before the glorious God : prayed with my dear
friend with sweetness, and discoursed with the utmost
solemnity. And truly it was a little emblem of heaven it
self. — I find my soui is more refined and weaned from a
dependence on my frames and spiritual feelings.
" Friday, Feb. 18. Felt something sweetly most of
the day, and found access to the throne of grace. Blessed
be the Lord for any intervals of heavenly delight and com
posure, while I am engaged in the field of battle. O that
I might be serious, solemn, and always vigilant, while in
an evil world ! Had some opportunity alone to-day, and
found some freedom in study. O, I long to live to God!
" Saturday, Feb. 19. Was exceeding infirm to-day,
greatly troubled with pain in my head and dizziness, scarce
able to sit up. However, enjoyed something of God in
prayer, and performed some necessary studies. I exceed
ingly long to die ; and yet, through divine goodness, have
felt very willing to live, for two or three days past.
" Lord's day, Feb. 20. I was perplexed on account of
my carelessness; thought I could not be suitably concern
ed about the important work of the day, and so was restless
with my easiness. — Was exceeding infirm again to-day ;
but the Lord strengthened me, both in the outward and in
ward man, so that I preached with some life and spirituali
ty, especially in the afternoon, wherein I was enabled to
speak closely against selfish religion, that loves Christ for
his benefits, but not for himself."
During the next fortnight, it appears that, for the most
part, he enjoyed much spiritual peace and comfort. In his
diary for this space of time are expressed such things as
these ; mourning over indwelling sin and unprofitableness ;
deadness to the world ; longing after God, and to live to
his glory ; heart-melting desires after his eternal home ;
fixed reliance on God for his help ; experience of much
divine assistance both in the private and public exercises of
religion ; inward strength and courage in the service of God ;
very frequent refreshment, consolation, and divine sweet
ness in meditation, prayer, preaching, and christian conver
sation. And it appears by his account, that this space of
time was filled up with great diligence and earnestness in
serving God, in study, prayer, meditation, preaching, and
privately instructing and counselling.
" Monday, March 7. This morning when I arose, I
found my heart go forth after God in longing desires of
conformity to him, and in secret prayer found myself
sweetly quickened and drawn out in praises to God for all
he had done to and for me, and for all my inward trials
for him first to go out into the wilderness, and enter on the difficulties and
hardships he must there be exposed to.

Part IV.

A. D. 1742, 1743. MT. 25.

333

and distresses of late. My heart ascribed glory, glory,
glory to the blessed God ! and bid welcome to all inward
distress again, if God saw meet to exercise me with it.
Time appeared but an inch long, and eternity at hand ;
and I thought I could with patience and cheerfulness bear
any thing for the cause of God ; for I saw that a moment
would bring me to a world of peace and blessedness. My
soul, by the strength of the Lord, rose far above this lower
world, and all the vain amusements and frightful disap
pointments of it. Afterwards, had some sweet meditation
on Gen. v. 24. 'And Enoch walked with God,' &c. —
This was a comfortable day to my soul."
The next day he seems to have continued in a consider
able degree of sweetness and fervency in religion.
" Wednesday, March 9. Endeavoured to commit my
self and all my concerns to God. Rode sixteen miles to
Mantauk,* and had some inward sweetness on the road ;
but something of flatness and deadness after I came there
and had seen the Indians. I withdrew, and endeavoured
to pray, but found myself awfully deserted and left, and
had an afflicting sense of my vileness and meanness. How
ever, I went and preached from Isa. liii. 10. 'Yet it
pleased the Lord to bruise him,' &c. Had some assist
ance ; and, I trust, something of the divine presence was
among us. In the evening, I again prayed and exhorted
among them, after having had a season alone, wherein I
was so pressed with the blackness of my nature, that I
thought it was not fit for me to speak so much as to
Indians." The next day he returned to East Hampton ; was ex
ceeding infirm in body through the remaining part qf this
week ; but speaks of assistance and enlargement in study
and religious exercises, and of inward sweetness and
breathing after God.
"Lord's day, March 13. At noon I thought it impossi
ble for me to preach, by reason of bodily weakness and
inward deadness. In the first prayer I was so weak
that I could hardly stand; but in the sermon God
strengthened me, so that I spake near an hour and a half
with sweet freedom, clearness, and some tender power,
from Gen. v. 24. 'And Enoch walked with God.' I was
sweetly assisted to insist on a close walk with God, and to
leave this as my parting advice to God's people here, that
they should walk with God. May the God of all grace
succeed my poor labours in this place !
" Monday, March 14. In the morning was very busy
in preparation for my journey, and was almost continually
engaged in ejaculatory prayer. About ten, took leave of
the dear people of East Hampton ; my heart grieved and
mourned, and rejoiced at the same time ; rode near fifty
miles to a part of Brook-Haven, and lodged there, and
had refreshing conversation with a christian friend."
In two days more he reached New York ; but com
plains of much desertion and deadness on the road.
He stayed one day in New York, and on Friday went to
Mr. Dickinson's at Elizabeth-Town. His complaints are
the same as on the two preceding days.
" Saturday, March 19. Was bitterly distressed under a
sense of my ignorance, darkness, and unworthiness ; got
alone, and poured out my complaint to God in the bitter
ness of my soul. — In the afternoon, rode to Newark, and
had some sweetness in conversation with Mr. Burr, and
in praying together. O blessed be God for ever and ever,
for any enlivening and quickening seasons.
" Lord's day, March 20. Preached in the forenoon :
God gave me some assistance and sweetness, and enabled
me to speak with real tenderness, love, and impartiality.
In the evening, preached again ; and, of a truth, God was
pleased to assist a poor worm. Blessed be God, I was
enabled to speak with life, power, and desire of the
edification of God's people ; and with some power to sin
ners. In the evening, I felt spiritual and watchful, lest
my heart should by any means be drawn away from God.
* Mantauk is the eastern cape or end of Long Island, inhabited chiefly
by Indians.
t These ministers were the correspondents who now met at Woodbridge,
and gave Mr. Brainerd new directions. Instead of sending him to the
Indians at the Forks of Delaware, as before intended, they ordered him
to go to a number of Indians, at Kaunaumeek : a place in the province of
New York, in the woods between Stockbridge and Albany. This alter
ation was occasioned by two things, viz. 1. Information that the correspond
ents had received of some contention now subsisting between the white

Oh, when I shall come to that blessed world, where every
power of my soul will be incessantly and eternally wound
up in heavenly employments and enjoyments, to the
highest degree f"
On Monday he went to Woodbridge, where he speaks
of his being with a number of ministers ;f and, the day
following, of his travelling part of the way towards New
York. On Wednesday ne came to New York. On
Thursday he rode near fifty miles, from New York to
North-Castle. On Friday went to Danbury. Saturday,
to New Milford. On the sabbath he rode five or six
miles to the place near Kent in Connecticut, called Scati-
coke, where dwell a number of Indians, J and preached
to them. On Monday, being detained by the rain, he
tarried at Kent. On Tuesday he rode from Kent to
Salisbury. Wednesday he went to Sheffield. Thursday,
March 31, he went to Mr. Sergeant's at Stockbridge. He
was dejected and very disconsolate, through the main of
this journey from New Jersey to Stockbridge ; and espe
cially on the last day his mind was overwhelmed with ex
ceeding gloominess and melancholy.

PART V.
FROM HIS BEGINNING TO INSTRUCT THE INDIANS AT
KAUNAUMEEK, TO HIS ORDINATION.
"Friday, April 1, 1743. I rode to Kaunaumeek, near
twenty miles from Stockbridge, where the Indians live with
whom I am concerned, and there lodged on a little heap
of straw. I was greatly exercised with inward trials and
distresses all day ; and in the evening, my heart was sunk ,
and I seemed to have no God to go to. O that God
would help me !"
Tlie next five days he was for the most part in a dejected,
depressed state of mind, and sometimes extremely so. He
speaks of God's " waves and billows rolling over his soul ;"
and of his being ready sometimes to say, " Surely his
mercy is clean gone for ever, and he will be favourable no
more ;" and says, the anguish he endured was nameless
and inconceivable ; but at the same time speaks thus con
cerning his distresses, " What God designs by all my
distresses I know not ; but this I know, I deserve them
all and thousands more." — He gives an account of the
Indians kindly receiving him, and being seriously attentive
to his instructions.
" Thursday, April 7. Appeared to myself exceeding
ignorant,*weak, helpless, unworthy, and altogether unequal
to my work. It seemed to me I should never do any
service or have any success among the Indians. My soul
was weary of my life ; I longed for deaths beyond
measure. When I thought of any godly soul departed,
my soul was ready to envy him his privilege, thinking,
' Oh, when will my turn come! must it be years first !'
— But I know, these ardent desires, at this and other
times, rose partly for want of resignation to God under all
miseries ; and so were but impatience. Towards night,
I had the exercise of faith in prayer, and some assistance
in writing. 0 that God would keep me near him !
" Friday, April 8. Was exceedingly pressed under a
sense of my pride, selfishness, bitterness, and party spirit,
in times past, while 1 attempted to promote the cause of
God. Its vile nature and dreadful consequences appeared
in such odious colours to me, that my very heart was
pained. I saw how poor souls stumbled over it into everlast
ing destruction, that I was constrained to make that prayer
in the bitterness of my soul, ' O Lord, deliver me from
blood-guiltiness.' I saw my desert of hell on this ac
count. My soul was full of inward anguish and shame
people and the Indians at Delaware, concerning their lands, wbich they
supposed would be a hinderance at present to their entertainment of a mis
sionary, and to his success among them. And, 2. Some intimations they
had received from Mr. Sergeant, missionary to the Indians at Stockbridge,
concerning the Indians at Kaunaumeek, ana the hopeful prospect of success
that a missionary might have among them.
X These were the same Indians that Mr. Brainerd mentions in his diary,
on August 12, the preceding year.

334

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

before God, that I had spent so much time in conversa
tion tending only to promote a party spirit. Oh, I saw
I had not suitably prized mortification, self-denial, resigna
tion under all adversities, meekness, love, candour, and
holiness of heart and life : and this day was almost wholly
spent in such bitter and soul-afflicting reflections on my
past frames and conduct. — Of late I have thought much
of having the kingdom of Christ advanced in the world ;
but now I had enough to do within myself. The Lord be
merciful to me a sinner, and wash my soul !
" Saturday, April 9. Remained much in the same state
as yesterday ; excepting that the sense of my vileness was
not so quick and acute.
" Lord's day, April 10. Rose early in the morning, and
walked out, and spent a considerable time in the woods,
in prayer and meditation. Preached to the Indians, both
forenoon and afternoon. They behaved soberly in general :
two or three in particular appeared under some religious
concern ; with whom I discoursed privately ; and one
told me, ' her heart had cried, ever since she heard me
preach first.' "
The next day, he complains of much desertion.
" Tuesday, April 12. Was greatly oppressed with
grief and shame, reflecting on my past conduct, my bitter
ness and party zeal. I was ashamed to think that such a
wretch as I had ever preached. — Longed to be excused
from that work. And when my soul was not in anguish
and keen distress, I felt senseless ' as a beast before God,'
and felt a kind of guilty amusement with the least trifles ;
which still maintained a kind of stifled horror of con
science, so that I could not rest any more than a con
demned malefactor.
" Wednesday, April 13. My heart was overwhelmed
within me : I verily thought I was the meanest, vilest,
most helpless, guilty, ignorant, benighted creature living.
And yet I knew what God had done for my soul, at the
same time : though sometimes I was assaulted with damp
ing doubts and fears, whether it was possible for such a
wretch as I to be in a state of grace.
" Thursday, April 14. Remained much in the same
state as yesterday.
" Friday, April 15. In the forenoon, very disconsolate.
In the afternoon, preached to my people, and was a little
encouraged in some hopes that God might bestow mercy
on their souls.— Felt somewhat resigned to God under all
dispensations of his providence.
" Saturday, April 16. Still in the depths of distress. —
In the afternoon, preached to my people ; but was more
discouraged with them than before ; feared that nothing
would ever be done for them to any happy effect. I retired
and poured out my soul to God for mercy ; but without
any sensible relief. Soon after came an Irishman and a
Dutchman, with a design, as they said, to hear me preach
the next day ; but none can tell bow I felt, to hear their
profane talk. Oh, I longed that some dear Christian
Knew my distress. I got into a kind of hovel, and there
groaned out my complaint to God ; and withal felt more
sensible gratitude and thankfulness to God, that he had
made me to differ from these men, as I knew through
grace he had.
" Lord's day, April 17. In the morning was again dis
tressed as soon as I waked, hearing much talk about the
world and the things of it. I perceived the men were in
some measure afraid of me ; and I discoursed something
about sanctifying the sabbath, if possible to solemnize
their minds : but when they were at a little distance, they
again talked freely about secular affairs. Oh, I thought
what a hell it would be, to live with such men to eternity !
The Lord gave me some assistance in preaching, all day,
and some resignation, and a small degree of comfort in
prayer at night."
He continued in this disconsolate frame the next day.
" Tuesday, April 19. In the morning I enjoyed some
sweet repose and rest in God ; felt some strength and con
fidence in him ; and my soul was in some measure refresh
ed and comforted. Spent most of the day in writing, and
had some exercise of grace, sensible and comfortable. My
soul seemed lifted above the deep waters, wherein it has
* On the last of tbese days he wrote the first letter in the collection of

been so long almost drowned ; felt some spiritual longings
and breathings of soul after God ; and found myself en
gaged for the advancement of Christ's kingdom in my
own soul.
" Wednesday, April 20. Set apart this day for fasting
and prayer, to dow my soul before God for the bestowment
of divine grace ; especially that all my spiritual afflictions
and inward distresses might be sanctified to my soul. And
endeavoured also to remember the goodness of God to me
the year past, this day being my birth-day. Having ob
tained help of God, I have hitherto lived, and am now
arrived at the age of twenty-five years. My soul was
pained to think of my barrenness and deadness ; that I
have lived so little to the glory of the eternal God. I
spent the day in the woods alone, and there poured out my
complaint to God. 0 that God would enable me to live
to his glory for the future !
" Thursday, April 21. Spent the forenoon in reading
and prayer, and found myself engaged; but still much
depressed in spirit under a sense of my vileness and un
fitness for any public service. In the afternoon, 1 visited
my people, and prayed and conversed with some about
their souls' concerns ; and afterwards found some ardour
of soul in secret prayer. 0 that I might grow up into the
likeness qf God !
" Friday, April 22. Spent the day in study, reading,
and prayer ; and felt a little relieved of my burden, that
has been so heavy of late. But still was in some measure
oppressed; and had a sense of barrenness. Oh, my lean
ness testifies against me ! my very soul abhors itself for
its unlikeness to God, its inactivity and sluggishness.
When I have done all, alas, what an unprofitable servant
am I ! My soul groans, to see the hours of the day roll
away, because I do not fill them in spirituality and hea
venly mindedness. And yet I long they should speed
their pace, to hasten me to my eternal home, where I may
fill up all my moments, through eternity, for God and his
glory." On Saturday and Lord's day, his melancholy again pre
vailed ; he complained of his ignorance, stupidity, and
senselessness ; while yet he seems to have spent the time
with the utmost diligence, in study, in prayer, in instruct
ing and counselling the Indians. On Monday he sunk
into the deepest melancholy ; so that he supposed he never
spent a day in such distress in his life ; not in fears of hell,
(which, he says, he had no pressing fear of,) but a distress
ing sense of his own vileness, &c. On Tuesday, he ex
presses some relief. Wednesday he kept as a day of fasting
and prayer, but in great distress. The three days next fol
lowing his melancholy continued, but in a less degree,
and with intervals of comfort.*
" Lord's day, May 1. Was at Stockbridge to-day. In
the forenoon had some relief and assistance ; though not
so much as usual. In the afternoon felt poorly in body
and soul ; while I was preaching, seemed to be rehearsing
idle tales, without the least life, fervour, sense, or comfort;
and especially afterwards, at the sacrament, my soul was
filled with confusion, and the utmost anguish that ever I
endured, under the feeling of my inexpressible vileness
and meanness. It was a most bitter and distressing season
to me, by reason of the view I had of my own heart, and
the secret abominations that lurk there: I thought the
eyes of all in the house were upon me, and I dared not
look any one in the face ; for it verily seemed as if they
saw the vileness of my heart, and all the sins I had ever
been guilty of. And if 1 had been banished from the
presence of all mankind, never to be seen any more, or so
much as thought of, still I should have been distressed
with shame ; and I should have been ashamed to see the
most barbarous people on earth, because I was viler, and
seemingly more brutishly ignorant, than they. — ' I am
made to possess the sins of my youth.' "
The remaining days qf this week were spent, for the most
Eart, in inward distress and gloominess. The next sabbath,
e had encouragement, assistance, and comfort ; but on
Monday sunk again.
" Tuesday, May 10. Was in the same state, as to my
mind, that I have been in for some time; extremely
his letters, among bis Remains.

Part V.

A. D. 1743, 1744. 7ET. 25—27.

335

pressed with a sense of guilt, pollution, and blindness :
' The iniquity of my heels have compassed me about ; the
sins of my youth have been set in order before me; they
have gone over my head, as a heavy burden, too heavy for
me to bear.' Almost all the actions of my life past seem
to be covered over with sin and guilt ; and those of them
that I performed in the most conscientious manner, now
fill me with shame and confusion, that I cannot hold up
my face. . Oh ! the pride, selfishness, hypocrisy, ignorance,
bitterness, party-zeal, and the want qflove, candour, meek
ness, and gentleness, that have attended my attempts to
promote religion and virtue ; and this when I have reason
to hope I had real assistance from above, and some sweet
intercourse with heaven ! But, alas, what corrupt mixtures
attended my best duties !"
The next seven days his gloom and distress continued
for the most part, but he had some turns of relief and
spiritual comfort. He gives an account of his spending
part of this time in hard labour, to build himself a little
cottage to live in amongst the Indians, in which he might
be by himself; having, it seems, hitherto lived with a
poor Scotchman, as he observes in the letter just now re
ferred to; and- afterwards, before his own house was
habitable, lived in a wigwam among the Indians.
" Wednesday, May 18. My circumstances are such,
that I have no comfort, of any kind, but what I have in
God. I live in the most lonesome wilderness ; have but
one single person to converse with, that can speak English.*
Most of tne talk I hear, is either Highland Scotch or
Indian. I have no fellow-Christian to whom I might
unbosom myself, or lay open my spiritual sorrows ; with
whom I might take sweet counsel in conversation about
heavenly things, and join in social prayer. I live poorly
with regard to the comforts of life : most of my diet con
sists of boiled corn, hasty-pudding, &c. I lodge on a
bundle of straw, my labour is hard and extremely difficult,
and I have little appearance of success to comfort me.
The Indians have no land to live on but what the Dutch
people lay claim to ; and these threaten to drive them off.
They have no regard to the souls of the poor Indians ;
and, by what I can learn, they hate me, because I come
to preach to them. — But that which makes all my diffi
culties grievous to be borne, is, that God hides his face
from me.
" Thursday, May 19. Spent most of this day in close
studies ; but was sometimes so distressed that I could
think of nothing but my spiritual blindness, ignorance,
pride, and misery. Oh, I have reason to make that prayer,
' Lord, forgive my sins of youth, and former trespasses.'
" Friday, May 20. Was much perplexed some part
of the day ; but towards night, had some comfortable
meditations on Isa. xl. 1. ' Comfort ye, comfort ye,' &c.
and enjoyed some sweetness in prayer. Afterwards my
soul rose so far above the deep waters, that I dared to re
joice in God. I saw there was sufficient matter of con
solation in the blessed God."
The next nine days his burdens were for the most part
alleviated, but with variety ; at some times having con
siderable consolation ; and at others, more depressed. The
next day, Monday, May 30, he set out on a journey to
New Jersey, to consult the commissioners who employed
him about the affairs of his mission.f He performed his
journey thither in four days ; and arrived at Mr. Burr's in
Newark on Thursday. In great part of his journey, he
was in the depths of melancholy, under distresses like
those already mentioned. On Friday he rode to Eliza
beth-town : and on Saturday to New York ; and from
thence on his way homewards as far as White Plains.
There he spent the sabbath, and had considerable degrees
of divine consolation and assistance in public services. On
Monday he rode about sixty miles to New-Haven. There
he attempted a reconciliation with the authority ofthe col
lege ; and spent this week in visiting his friends in those
parts, and in his journey homewards, till Saturday, in a
pretty comfortable frame of mind. On Saturday, in his
way from Stockbridge to Kaunaumeek, he was lost in the
* This person was Mr. Brainerd's interpreter ; who was an ingenious
young Indian belonging to Stockbridge, whose name was John Wau-
waumpequunnaunt. He had been instructed in the christian religion by
Mr. Sergeant; had lived with the Reverend Mr. Williams of Long
Meadow ; had been further instructed by bim, at the charge of Mr. Hollis

woods, and lay all night in the open air ; but happily
found his way m the morning, and came to his Indians on
Lord's day, June 1 2, and had greater assistance in preach
ing among them than ever before, since his first coming
among them.
From this time forward he was the subject of various
frames and exercises of mind : in the general, much after
the same manner as hitherto, from his first coming to
Kaunaumeek till he got into his own house, (a little nut,
which he made chiefly with his own hands, by long and
hard labour,) which was near seven weeks from this time,
Great part of this space of time, he was dejected, and de-
Jiressed with melancholy, sometimes extremely ; his me
an-holy operating in like manner as related in times
past. How it was with him in those dark seasons, he
himself further describes in his diary for July 2, in the
following manner. " My soul is, and has for a long time
been, in a piteous condition, wading through a series of
sorrows, of various kinds. 1 have been so crushed down
sometimes with a sense of my meanness and infinite un
worthiness, that I have been ashamed that any, even the
meanest of my fellow-creatures, should so much as spend
a thought about me ; and have wished sometimes, while
travelling among the thick brakes, to drop, as one of them,
into everlasting oblivion. In this case, sometimes, I have
almost resolved never again to see any of my acquaint
ance ; and really thought I could not do it and hold up
my face ; and have longed for the remotest region, for a
retreat from all my friends, that I might not be seen or
heard of any more.  Sometimes the consideration of
my ignorance has been a means of my great distress and
anxiety. And especially my soul has been in anguish
with fear, shame, and guilt, that ever I had preached, or
had any thought that way.  Sometimes my soul has
been in distress on feeling some particular corruptions rise
and swell like a mighty torrent, with present violence ;
having, at the same time, ten thousand former sins and fol
lies presented to view, in all their blackness and aggra
vations.  And these, while destitute of most of the
conveniencies of life, and I may say, of all the pleasures
of it ; without a friend to communicate any of my sorrows
to, and sometimes without any place of retirement, where
I may unburden my soul before God, which has greatly
contributed to my distress.  Of late, more especially,
my great difficulty has been a sort of carelessness, a kind
of regardless temper of mind, whence I have been dis-
Eosed to indolence and trifling : and this temper of mind
as constantly been attended with guilt and shame ; so
that sometimes I have been in a kind of horror, to find
myself so unlike the blessed God. I have thought I grew
worse under all my trials; and nothing has cut and
wounded my soul more than this. Oh, if I am one of
God's chosen, as I trust through infinite grace I am, I find
of a truth, that the righteous are scarcely saved."
It is apparent, that one main occasion of that distressing
gloominess of mind which he was so much exercised with
at Kaunaumeek, was reflection on his past errors and mis
guided zeal at college, in the beginning of the late religious
commotions. And therefore he repeated his endeavours
this year for reconciliation with the governors of the col
lege, whom he had at that time offended. Although he
had been at New Haven, in June, this year, and attempted
a reconciliation, as mentioned already ; yet, in the begin
ning of July, he made another journey thither, and renewed
his attempt, but still in vain.
Although he was much dejected great part of that space
of time which I am now speaking of; yet he had many
intermissions of his melancholy, and some seasons of com
fort, sweet tranquillity, and resignation of mind, and fre
quent special assistance in public services, as appear in his
diary. The manner of his relief from his sorrow, once in
particular, is worthy to be mentioned in his own words,
(diary for July 25.) " Had little or no resolution for a life
of holiness ; was ready almost to renounce my hopes of
living to God. And oh how dark it looked, to think of
being unholy for ever ! This I could not endure. The cry
of London ; and understood both English and Indian very well, and wrote
a good hand.
T His business with the commissioners now was, to obtain orders from
them to set up a school among the Indians at Kaunaumeek, and that his in
terpreter might be appointed the schoolmaster; which was accordingly done.

336

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

of my soul was, Psal. lxv. 3. ' Iniquities prevail against
me.' But was in some measure relieved by a comfortable
meditation on God's eternity, that he never had a begin
ning, &c. Whence I was led to admire his greatness and
power, &c. in such a manner, that I stood still, and praised
the Lord for his own glories and perfections; though I
was (and if I should for ever be) an unholy creature, my
soul was comforted to apprehend: an eternal, infinite, pow
erful, holy God.
" Saturday, July 30. Just at night, moved into my
own house, and lodged there that night; found it much
better spending the time alone, than in the wigwam where
I was before.
"Lord's day, July 31. Felt more comfortably than
some days past.  Blessed be the Lord, who has now
given me a place of retirement.  O that I might find
God in it, and that he would dwell with me for ever f
" Monday, Aug. 1. Was still busy in further labours
on my house. — Felt a little of the sweetness of religion,
and thought it was worth the while to follow after God
through a thousand snares, deserts, and death itself. O
that I might a\viays follow after holiness, that I may be
fully conformed to God ! Had some degree of sweetness,
in secret prayer, though I had much sorrow.
" Tuesday, Aug. 2. Was still labouring to make my
self more comfortable, with regard to my house and lodg
ing. Laboured under spiritual anxiety ; it seemed to me,
I deserved to be kicked out qf the world ; yet found some
comfort in committing my cause to God. It is good for
me to be afflicted, that I may die wholly to this world,
and all that is in it.
" Wednesday, Aug. 3. Spent most of the day in writ
ing. Enjoyed some sense of religion. Through divine
goodness I am now uninterruptedly alone ; and find my
retirement comfortable. I have enjoyed more sense of di
vine things within a few days last past, than for some time
before. I longed after holiness, humility, and meekness :
O that God would enable me to ' pass the time of my so
journing here in his fear,' and always live to him !
" Thursday, Aug. 4. Was enabled to pray much,
through the whole day ; and through divine goodness
found some intenseness of soul in the duty, as I used to
do, and some ability to persevere in my supplications. I
had some apprehensions of divine things, that were en
gaging, and which afforded me some courage and resolu
tion. It is good, I find, to persevere in attempts to pray, if
I cannot pray with perseverance, i. e. continue long in my
addresses to the Divine Being. I have generally found,
that the more I do in secret prayer, the more I nave de
lighted to do, and have enjoyed more of a spirit of prayer :
and frequently have found the contrary, when with jour
neying or otherwise I have been much deprived of retire
ment. A seasonable, steady performance of secret du
ties IN THEIR PROPER HOURS, and a CAREFUL IMPROVE
MENT of all time, filling up every hour with some pro
fitable labour, either of heart, head, or hands, are excellent
means of spiritual peace and boldness before God. Christ,
indeed, is our peace, and by him we have boldness qf access
to God; but a good conscience void of offence, is an excel
lent preparation for an approach into the divine presence.
There is difference between self-confidence or a self-right
eous pleasing of ourselves — as with our own duties, attain
ments, and spiritual enjoyments — which godly souls some
times are guiltv of, and that holy confidence arising from
the testimony of a good conscience, which good Hezekiah
had, when he says, " Remember, O Lord, I beseech thee,
how I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect
heart.' ' Then (says the holy psalmist) shall I not be
ashamed, when I have respect to all thy commandments.'
Filling up our time with and for God, is the way to rise
up and lie down in peace."
The next eight days he continued for the most part in a
very comfortable frame, having his mind fixed and sweetly
engaged in religion ; and more than once blesses God,
that he had given him a little cottage, where he might
live alone, and enjoy a happy retirement, free from noise
and disturbance, and could at any hour of the day lay aside
all studies, and spend time in lifting up his soul to God
for spiritual blessings.
"Saturday, Aug. 13. Was enabled in secret prayer to

raise my soul to God, with desire and delight. It was in
deed a blessed season to my soul : I found the comfort of
being a Christian ; and counted the sufferings of the present
life not worthy to be compared with the glory of divine en
joyments even in this world.' All my past sorrows seemed
kindly to disappear, and I ' remembered no more the sor
row, for joy.' — O, how kindly, and with a filial tenderness,
the soul confides in the Rock qf ages, at such a season,
that he will ' never leave it, nor forsake it,' that he will
cause ' all things to work together for its good !' &c. I
longed that others should know how good a God the
Lord is. My soul was full of tenderness and love, even
to the most inveterate of my enemies. I longed they
should share in the same mercy ; and loved that God
should do just as he pleased with me and every thing else.
I felt exceeding serious, calm, and peaceful, and encou
raged to press after holiness as long as I live, whatever
difficulties and trials may be in my way. May the Lord
always help me so to do ! Amen, and Amen.
" Lord's day, Aug. 14. I had much more freedom in
public than in private. God enabled me to speak with
some feeling sense of divine things ; but perceived no con
siderable effect.
" Monday, Aug. 15. Spent most of the day in labour,
to procure something to keep my horse on in the winter.
— Enjoyed not much sweetness in the morning : was very
weak in body through the day, and thought this frail body
would soon drop into the dust : had some very realizing
apprehensions of a speedy entrance into another world.
And in this weak state of body, I was not a little distress
ed for want of suitable food. I had no bread, nor could
I get any. I am forced to go or send ten or fifteen miles
for all the bread I eat ; and sometimes it is mouldy and
sour before I eat it, if I get any considerable quantity.
And then again I have none for some days together, for
want of an opportunity to send for it, and cannot find my
horse in the woods to go myself; and this was my case
now : but through divine goodness I had some Indian
meal, of which I made little cakes, and fried them. Yet
felt contented with my circumstances, and sweetly resigned
to God. In prayer I enjoyed great freedom ; and blessed
God as much for my present circumstances, as if I had
been a king ; and thought I found a disposition to be
contented in any circumstances. Blessed be God."
The rest of this week he was exceeding weak in body,
and much exercised with pain; yet obliged from day to
day lo labour hard, to procure fodder for his horse. Ex
cept some part of the time, he was so very ill, that he was
neither able lo work nor study; but speaks of longings
after holiness and perfect conformity to God. He com
plains of enjoying but little of God ; yet he says, that little
was better to him than all the world besides. In his diary
for Saturday, he says, he was somewhat melancholy and
sorrowful in mind ; and adds, " I never feel comfortably,
but when I find my soul going forth after God : if I can
not be holy, I must necessarily be miserable for ever."
"Lord's day, Aug. 21. Was much straitened in the
forenoon-exercise ; my thoughts seemed to be all scattered
to the ends of the earth. At noon, I fell down before the
Lord, groaned under my vileness, barrenness, and dead
ness ; and felt as if I was guilty of soul-murder, in speak
ing to immortal souls in such a manner as I had then
done — In the afternoon, God was pleased to give me some
assistance, and I was enabled to set before my hearers the
nature and necessity of true repentance, &c. Afterwards,
had some small degree of thankfulness. Was very ill and
full of pain in the evening ; and my soul mourned that I
had spent so much time to so little profit.
" Monday, Aug. 22. Spent most of the day in study ;
and found my bodily strength in a measure restored. Had
some intense and passionate breathings of soul after holi
ness, and very clear manifestations of my utter inability to
procure, or work it in myself; it is wholly owing to the
power of God. O, with what tenderness the love and de
sire of holiness fills the soul ! I wanted to wing out of
myself to God, or rather to get a conformity to him : but,
alas ! I cannot add to my stature in grace one cubit.
However, my soul can never leave striving for it ; or at
least groaning that it cannot strive for it, and obtain more
purity of heart.— At night I spent some time in instruct-

Part V.

A. D. 1743, 1744. MT. 25—27.

337

ing my poor people. Oh that God would pity their
souls !
" Tuesday, Aug. 23. Studied in the forenoon, and en
joyed some freedom. In the afternoon, laboured abroad :
endeavoured to pray; but found not much sweetness or
intenseness of mind. Towards night, was very weary,
and tired of this world of sorrow : the thoughts of death
and immortality appeared very desirable, and even re
freshed my soul. Those lines turned in my mind with
pleasure, ' Come, death, shake hands s I'll kiss thy bands ;
'Tis happiness for me to die.
What ! dost thou think that I will shrink !
I'll go to immortality.'
In evening prayer God was pleased to draw near my
soul, though very sinful and unworthy : was enabled to
wrestle with God, and to persevere in my requests for
grace. I poured out my soul for all the world, friends,
and enemies. My soul was concerned, not so much for
souls as such, but rather for Christ's kingdom, that it might
appear in the world, that God might be known to be God
in the whole earth. And, oh, my soul abhorred the very
thought of a party in religion ! Let the truth of God ap
pear, wherever it is ; and God have the glory for ever.
Amen. This was indeed a comfortable season. I thought
1 had some small taste of, and real relish for, the enjoy
ments and employments of the upper world. O that my
soul was more attempered to it !
" Wednesday, Aug. 24. Spent some time in the morn
ing in study and prayer. Afterwards was engaged in some
necessary business abroad. Towards night, found a little
time for some particular studies. I thought if God should
say, ' Cease making any provision for this life, for you
shall in a few days go out of time into eternity,' my soul
would leap for joy. O that I may both 'desire to lie dis
solved, to be with Christ,' and likewise ' wait patiently
all the days of my appointed time till my change come ! '
— But, alas ! I am very unfit for the business and bless
edness of heaven. — O for more holiness!
" Thursday, Aug. 25. Part of the day, was engaged in
studies ; and part in labour abroad. I find it is impossi
ble to enjoy peace and tranquillity of mind without a care
ful improvement of time. This is really an imitation of
God and Christ Jesus : ' My Father worketh hitherto,
and I work,' says our Lord. But still, if we would be
like God we must see lhat we fill up our time for him. —
I daily long to dwell in perfect light and love. In the
mean time, my soul mourns that I make so little progress
in grace, and preparation for the world of blessedness : I
see and know that I am a very barren tree in God's vine
yard, and that he might justly say, ' Cut it down,' &c.
O that God would make me more lively and vigorous in
grace, for his own glory ! Amen."
The two next days he was much engaged in some ne
cessary labours, in which he extremely spent himself. He
seems these days to have had a great sense of the vanity
of the world, continued longings after holiness, and more
fervency of spirit in the service of God.
" Lord's day, Aug. 28. Was much perplexed with
some irreligious Dutchmen. All their discourse turned
upon the things of the world ; which was no small exer
cise to my mind. Oh, what a hell it would be to spend
an eternity with such men ! Well might David say, ' I
beheld the transgressors, and was grieved.' — But adored
be God, heaven is a place into which no unclean thing en
ters.' — Oh, I long for the holiness of that world ! Lord,
prepare me for it.' "
The next day he set out on a journey to New York.
Was somewhat dejected the two first days of his journey ;
but yet seems to have enjoyed some degrees of the sensible
presence of God.
" Wednesday, Aug. 31. Rode down to Bethlehem : was
in a sweet, serious, and, I hope, christian frame, when I
came there. Eternal things engrossed all my thoughts ;
and I longed lo be in the world of spirits. O how happy
is it to have all our thoughts swallowed up in that world;
* This being commencement-day.
+ His trial was the greater, in that, had it not been for the displeasure of
the governors of the college, he would not only on that day have shared
with his. class-mates in the public honours which they then received, but
VOL.11. Z

to feel one's self a serious considerate stranger in this world,
diligently seeking a road through it, the best, the sure road
to the heavenly Jerusalem !
" Thursday,' Sept. 1. Rode to Danbury. Was more dull
and dejected in spirit than yesterday. Indeed, I always
feel comfortably when God realizes death, and the things
of this world, to my mind : whenever my mind is taken
off from the things of this world, and set on God, my soul
is then at rest."
He went forward on his journey, and came to New
York on the next Monday. And after tarrying there two
or three days, he set out from the city towards New-Ha
ven, intending to be there at the commencement ; and on
Friday came to Horse-Neck. In the mean time, he com
plains much of dulness, and want of fervour in religion :
but yet, from time to time, speaks of his enjoying spiritual
warmth and sweetness in conversation with christian
friends, assistance in public services, &c.
" Saturday, Sept. 10. Rode six miles to Stanwich, and
preached lo a considerable assembly of people. Had
some assistance and freedom, especially towards the close.
Endeavoured much afterwards, in private conversation, to
establish holiness, humility, meekness, &c. as the essence
of true religion ; and to moderate some noisy sort of per
sons, that appeared to me to be acted by unseen spiritual
pride. Alas, what extremes men incline to run into ! —
Returned to Horse-Neck, and felt some seriousness and
sweet solemnity in the evening.
"Lord's day, Sept. 11. In the afternoon I preached
from Tit. iii. 8. ' This is a faithful saying, and these
things,' &c. I think God never helped me more in paint
ing true religion, and in detecting clearly, and tenderly dis
countenancing, false appearances of religion, wild-fire party
zeal, spiritual pride, &c. as well as a confident dogmatical
spirit, and its spring, viz. ignorance qf the heart. — In the
evening took much pains in private conversation to sup
press some confusions, that I perceived were amongst that
people. " Monday, Sept. 12. Rode to Mr. Mills's at Ripton.
Had some perplexing hours ; but was some part of the
day very comfortable. It is ' through great trials,' I see,
' that we must enter the gates of paradise.' If my soul
could but be holy, that God might not be dishonoured,
methinks I could bear sorrows.
" Tuesday, Sept. 13. Rode to New-Haven. Was
sometimes dejected ; not in the sweetest frame. Lodged
at ****. Had some profitable christian conversation, &c.
 1 find, though my inward trials were great, and a life
of solitude gives them greater advantage to settle, and pe
netrate to the very inmost recesses of the soul ; yet it is
better to be alone, than encumbered with noise and tu
mult. I find it very difficult maintaining any sense of
divine things while removing from place to place, divert
ed with new objects, and filled with care and business. A
settled steady business is best adapted to a life of strict
religion. " Wednesday, Sept. 14. This day I ought to have taken
my degree ;* but God sees fit to deny it me. And though
I was greatly afraid of being overwhelmed with perplexity
and confusion, when I should see my class-mates take theirs;
yet, at the very time, God enabled me with calmness
aud resignation to say, The will of the Lord be done.'
Indeed, through divine goodness, I have scarcely felt
my mind so calm, sedate, and comfortable for some time.
I have long feared this season, and expected my humility,
meekness, patience, and resignation would be much tried :f
but found much more pleasure and divine comfort than I
expected. — Felt spiritually, serious, tender, and affectionate
in private prayer with a dear christian friend to-day.
" Thursday, Sept. 15. Had some satisfaction in hearing
the ministers discourse, &c. It is always a comfort to me,
lo hear religious and spiritual discourse. O that ministers
and people were more spiritual and devoted to God ! — To
wards night, with the advice of christian friends, I offered
the following reflections in writing, to the rectorand trustees
of the college — which are for substance the same that I
would on that occasion have appeared at the head of that class ; which, if
he had been with them, would have been the most numerous of any that
ever had been graduated at that college.

338

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

had freely offered to the rector before, and entreated him
to accept— that if possible I might cut off all occasion of
offence, from those who seek occasion. What I offered, is
as follows :
" Whereas I have said before several persons, concern
ing Mr. Whittelsey, one of the tutors of Yale college, that
I did not believe he had any more grace than the chair I
then leaned upon : I humbly confess, that herein I have
sinned against God, and acted contrary to the rules of his
word, and have injured Mr. Whittelsey. I had no right to
make thus free with his character; and had no just reason
to say as I did concerning him. My fault herein was the
more aggravated, in that I said this concerning one that
was so much my superior, and one that I was obliged to
treat with special respect and honour, by reason of the
relation I stood in to him in the college. Such a manner
of behaviour, I confess, did not become a Christian ; it
was taking too much upon me, and did not savour of that
humble respect that I ought to have expressed towards
Mr. Whittelsey. I have long since been convinced of the
falseness of those apprehensions, by which I then justified
such a conduct. I have often reflected on this act with
grief; I hope, on account of the sin of it : and am willing
to lie low, and be abased before God and man for it.
And humbly ask the forgiveness of the governors of the
college, and of the whole society; but of Mr. Whittelsey
in particular. And whereas I have been accused by one
person of saying concerning the reverend rector of Yale
college, that I wondered he did not expect to drop down
dead for fining the scholars that followed Mr. Tennent to
Milford ; I seriously profess, that I do not remember my
saying any thing to this purpose. But if I did, which I
am not certain I did not, I utterly condemn it, and detest
all such kind of behaviour ; and especially in an under
graduate towards the rector. And I now appear, to judge
and condemn myself for going once to the separate meet
ing in New-Haven, a little before I was expelled, though
the rector had refused to give me leave. For this I
humbly ask the rector's forgiveness. And whether the
governors of the college shall ever see cause to remove the
academical censure I lie under, or no, or to admit me to
the privileges I desire ; yet I am willing to appear, if
they think fit, openly to own, and to humble myself for,
those things I have herein confessed."
" God has made me willing to do any thing that I can
do, consistent with truth, for the sake of peace, and that
I might not be a stumbling-block to others. For this
reason I can cheerfully forego, and give up, what I verily
believe, after the most mature and impartial search, is my
right, in some instances. God has given me that dispo
sition, that, if this were the case, that a man has done
me a hundred injuries, and I (though ever so much pro
voked to it) have done him one, I feel disposed, and
heartily willing, humbly to confess my fault to him, and
on my knees to ask forgiveness of him ; though at the
same time he should justify himself in all the injuries he
has done me, and should only make use of my humble
confession to blacken my character the more, and repre
sent me as the only person guilty, &c. yea, though he
should as it were insult me, and say, ' he knew all this
before, and that I was making work for repentance,' &c.
Though what I said concerning Mr. Whittelsey was only
spoken in private, to a friend or two ; and being partly
overheard, was related to the rector, and by hiin extorted
from my friends ; yet, seeing it was divulged and made
public, I was willing to confess my fault therein publicly.
— But I trust God will plead my cause."*
The next day he went to Derby ; then to Southbury,
where he spent the sabbath : and speaks of some spiritual
comfort ; but complains much of unfixedness, and wander
ings of mind in religion.
* I was witness to the very christian spirit Mr. Brainerd showed at that
time, being then at New-Haven, and one that he thought fit to consult on
that occasion. This was the first time that ever I had an opportunity of
personal acquaintance with him. There truly appeared in him a great
degree of calmness and humility ; without the least appearance of rising
of spirit for any ill treatment he supposed he had suffered, or the least
backwardness to abase himself before them, who, as he thought, had
wronged him. What he did was without any objection or appearance of
reluctance, even in private to his friends, to whom he freely opened him
self. Earnest application was made on his behalf to the authority of the
college, that he might have his degree then given him ; and particularly
by the Rev. Mr. Burr of Newark, one of the correspondents of the honour-

" Monday, Sept. 19. In the afternoon rode to Bethle
hem, and there preached. Had some measure of assist
ance, both in prayer and preaching. I felt serious, kind,
and tender towards all mankind, and longed that holiness
might flourish more on earth.
" Tuesday, Sept. 20. Had thoughts of going forward
on my journey to my Indians ; but towards night was
taken with a hard pain in my teeth, and shivering cold ;
and could not possibly recover a comfortable degree of
warmth the whole night following. I continued very full
of pain all night ; and in the morning had a very hard
fever, and pains almost over my whole body. I had a
sense of the divine goodness in appointing this to be the
place of my sickness, viz. among my friends, who were
very kind to me. I should probably have perished, if I
had first got home to my own house in the wilderness,
where I have none to converse with but the poor, rude,
ignorant Indians. Here I saw was mercy in the midst of
affliction. I continued thus, mostly confined to my bed,
till Friday night ; very full of pain most of the time ; but
through divine goodness not afraid of death. Then the
extreme folly of those appeared to me, who put off their
turning to God till a sick-bed. Surely this is not a time
proper to prepare for eternity.  On Friday evening my
pains went off somewhat suddenly, I was exceeding weak,
and almost fainted ; but was very comfortable the night
following. These words, Psal. cxviii. 17. 'I shall not
die, but live,' &c. I frequently revolved in my mind ; and
thought we were to prize the continuation of life only on
this account, that we may ' show forth God's goodness and
works of grace. ' "
From this time he gradually recovered ; and on the next
Tuesday was so well as to be able to go forward on his
journey homewards ; but it was not till the Tuesday fol
lowing that he reached Kaunaumeek. And seems, great
part of this time, to have had a very deep and lively sense
of the vanity and emptiness of all "things here below, and
of the reality, nearness, and vast importance of eternal
things. " Tuesday, Oct. 4. This day rode home to my own
house and people. The poor Indians appeared very glad
of my return. Found my house and all things in safety.
I presently fell on my knees, and blessed God for my
safe return, after a long and tedious journey, and a season
of sickness in several places where I had been, and after
I had been ill myself. God has renewed his kindness to
me, in preserving me one journey more. I have taken
many considerable journeys since this time last year, and
yet God has never suffered one of my bones to be broken,
or any distressing calamity to befall me, excepting the ill
turn I had in my last journey. I have been often exposed
to cold and hunger in the wilderness, where the comforts
of life were not to be had ; have frequently been lost in
the woods ; and sometimes obliged to ride much of the
night ; and once lay out in the woods all night ; yet,
blessed be God, he has preserved me ! "
In his diary for the next eleven days, are great complaints
of distance from God, spiritual pride, corruption, and ex
ceeding vileness. He once says, his heart was so pressed
with a sense of his pollution, that he could scarcely have
the face and impudence (as it then appeared to him) to
desire that God should not damn him for ever. And at
another time, he says, he had so little sense of God, or
apprehension and relish of his glory and excellency, that
it made him more disposed to kindness and tenderness
towards those who are blind and ignorant of God and
things divine and heavenly.
" Lord's day, Oct. 16. In the evening, God was pleased
to give me a feeling sense of my own unworthiness ; but
through divine goodness such as tended to draw me to,
rather than drive me from, God : it filled me with so-
able society in Scotland; he being sent from New Jersey to New-Haven,
by the rest of the commissioners, for that end; and many arguments were
used, but without success. Indeed the governors of the college were so
far satisfied with the reflections Mr. Brainerd had made on himself, that
they appeared willing to admit him again into college ; but not to give him
his degree, till he should have remained there at least twelve months, whicb
being contrary to wbat the correspondents, to whom he was now engaged.
had declared to be their mind, he did not consent to it. He desired bis
degree, as he thought it would tend to his being more extensively useful;
but still when he was denied it, he manifested no disappointment or resent-

Part V.

A. D. 1743, 1744. MT. 25—27.

339

lemnity. I retired alone, (having at this time a friend
with me,) and poured out my soul to God with much
freedom ; and yet in anguish,'to find myself so unspeak
ably sinful and unworthy before a holy God. Was now
much resigned under God's dispensations towards me,
though mv trials had been very great. But thought whe
ther I could be resigned, if God should let the French
Indians come upon me, and deprive me of life, or carry
me away captive, (though I knew of no special reason
then to propose this trial to myself, more than any other,)
and my soul seemed so far to rest and acquiesce in God,
that the sting and terror of these things seemed in a great
measure gone. Presently after I came to the Indians,
whom I was teaching to sing psalm-tunes that evening,
I received the following letter from Stockbridge, by a
messenger sent on the sabbath on purpose, which made
it appear of greater importance-
' Sir, Just now we received advices from Col. Stoddard,
that there is the utmost danger of a rupture with France.
He has received the same from his excellency our governor,
ordering him to give notice to all the exposed places, that
they may secure themselves the best they can against any
sudden invasion. We thought best to send directly to
Kaunaumeek, that you may take the prudentest measures
for your safety that dwell there. I am, Sir, &c.'
""I thought, upon reading the contents, it came in a
good season; for my heart seemed fixed on God, and
therefore I was not much surprised. This news only made
me more serious, and taught me that I must not please
myself with any of the comforts of life which I had been
preparing. Blessed be God, who gave me any intense-
ness and fervency this evening !
" Monday, Oct. 1 7. Had some rising hopes, that ' God
would arise and have mercy on Zion speedily.' My heart
is indeed refreshed, when I have any prevailing hopes of
Zion's prosperity. O that I may see the glorious day,
when Zion shall become the joy of the whole earth !
Truly there is nothing that I greatly value in this lower
world." On Tuesday he rode to Stockbridge ; complains of
being much diverted, and having but little life. On Wed
nesday he expresses some solemn sense of divine things,
and longing to be always doing for God with a godly frame
of spirit.
" Thursday, Oct. 20. Had but little sense of divine
things this day. Alas, that so much of my precious time
is spent with so little of God ! Those are tedious days,
wherein I have no spirituality.
" Friday, Oct. 21. Returned home to Kaunaumeek :
was glad to get alone in my little cottage, and to cry to
that God who seeth in secret, and is present in a wilder
ness. " Saturday, Oct. 22. Had but little sensible commu
nion with God. This world is a dark, cloudy mansion.
Oh, when will the Sun of righteousness shine on my soul
without intermission !
" Lord's day, Oct. 23. In the morning I had a little
dawn of comfort arising from hopes of seeing glorious
days in the church of God : was enabled to pray for such
a glorious day with some courage and strength of hope.
In the forenoon treated on the glories of heaven, &c. —
In the afternoon, on the miseries of hell, and the danger
of going there. Had some freedom and warmth, both
parts of the day. And my people were very attentive.
In the evening two or three came to me under concern for
tlieir souls ; to whom I was enabled to discourse closely,
and with some earnestness and desire. O that God would
be merciful to their poor souls ! "
He seems, through the whole qf this week, to have been
greatly engaged to fill up every inch of time in the service
of God, and to have been most diligently employed in
study, prayer, and instructing the Indians ; and from time
to time expresses longings of soul after God, and the ad
vancement of his kingdom, and spiritual comfort and re
freshment. " Lord's day, Oct. 30. In the morning I enjoyed some
fixedness of soul in prayer, which was indeed sweet and
desirable ; was enabled to leave myself with God, and to
acquiesce in him. At noon my soul was refreshed with
reading Rev. iii. more especially the 11th and 12th verses.

Oh, my soul longed for that blessed day, when I should
' dwell in the temple of God,' and ' go no more out' of
his immediate presence !
" Monday, Oct. 31. Rode to Kinderhook, about fifteen
miles from my place. While riding I felt some divine
sweetness in the thoughts of being ' a pillar in the temple
of God' in the upper world, and being no more deprived
of his blessed presence, and the sense of his favour, which
is better than life. My soul was so lifted ujp to God, that
I could pour out my desires to him, for more grace and
further degrees of sanctification, with abundant freedom.
Oh, I longed to be more abundantly prepared for that
blessedness, with which I was then in some measure re
freshed ! — Returned home in the evening ; but took an
extremely bad cold by riding in the night.
" Tuesday, Nov. 1. Was very much disordered in body,
and sometimes full of pain in my face and teeth ; was not
able to study much, and had not much spiritual comfort.
Alas ! when God is withdrawn, all is gone. — Had some
sweet thoughts, which I could not but write down, on the
design, nature, and end of Christianity.
" Wednesday, Nov. 2. Was still more indisposed in
body, and in much pain most of the day. I had not much
comfort ; was scarcely able to study at all ; and still en
tirely alone in the wilderness. But blessed be the Lord,
I am not exposed in the open air ; I have a house, and
many of the comforts of life to support me. I have learned
in a measure, that all good things relating both to time
and eternity come from God. — In the evening I had some
degree of quickening in prayer : I think God gave me some
sense of his presence.
" Thursday, Nov. 3. Spent this day in secret fasting and
prayer, from morning till night. Early in the morning I
had some small degree of assistance in prayer. After
wards read the story of Elijah the prophet, 1 Kings, xvii.
xviii. and xix. chapters, and also 2 Kings, ii. and iv. chap
ters. My soul was much moved, observing the faith, zeal,
and power of that holy man ; how he wrestled with God
in prayer, &c. My soul then cried with Elisha, ' Where
is the Lord God of Elijah !' Oh, I longed for more faith !
My soul breathed after God, and pleaded with him, that
a ' double portion of that spirit,' which was given to Eli
jah, might ' rest on me.' And that which was divinely
refreshing and strengthening to my soul was, I saw that
God is the same that he was in the days of Elijah. — Was
enabled to wrestle with God by prayer, in a more affec
tionate, fervent, humble, intense, and importunate manner,
than I have for many months past. Nothing seemed too
hard for God to perform ; nothing too great for me to hope
for from him. — I had for many months entirely lost all
hopes of being made instrumental of doing any special
service for God in the world ; it has appeared entirely im
possible, that one so black and vile should be thus em
ployed for God. But at this time God was pleased to
revive this hope. — Afterwards read the 3rd chapter of
Exodus and on to the 20th, and saw more of the glory and
majesty of God discovered in those chapters, than ever I
had seen before ; frequently in the mean time falling on
my knees, and crying to. God for the faith of Moses, and
for a manifestation of the divine glory. Especially the 3rd
and 4th, and part of the 14th and 15th chapters, were un
speakably sweet to my soul : my soul blessed God, that
he had shown himself so gracious to his servants of old.
The 15th chapter seemed to be the very language which
my soul uttered to God in the season of my first spiritual
comfort, when I had just got through the Red sea, by a
way that I had no expectation of. O how my soul then
rejoiced in God ! And now those things came fresh and
lively to my mind ; now my soul blessed God afresh, that
he had opened that unthought-of way to deliver me from
the fear of the Egyptians, when I almost despaired of life.
 Afterwards read the story of Abraham's pilgrimage in
the land of Canaan : my soul was melted, in observing
his faith, how he leaned on God ; how he communed with
God, and what a stranger he was here in the world. After
that, read the story of Joseph's sufferings, and God's good
ness to him : blessed God for these examples of faith and
patience. My soul was ardent in prayer, was enabled to
wrestle ardently for myself, for christian friends, and for
the church of God. And felt more desire to see the. power

340

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

of God in the conversion of souls, than I have done for a
long season. Blessed be God for this season of fasting
and prayer ! May his goodness always abide with me,
and draw my soul to him !
" Thursday, Nov. 4. Rode to Kinderbook : went quite
to Hudson's river, about twenty miles from my house ;
performed some business, and returned home in the even
ing to my own house. I had rather ride hard and fatigue
myself, to get home, than to spend the evening and night
amongst those who have no regard for God."
The two next days he was very ill, and full of pain,
probably through his riding in the night after a fatiguing
day's journey on Thursday ; but yet seems to have been
diligent in business.
" Monday, Nov. 7. This morning the Lord afforded me
some special assistance in prayer ; my mind was solemn,
fixed, affectionate, and ardent in desires after holiness ; felt
full of tenderness and love ; and my affections seemed to
be dissolved into kindness. In the evening I enjoyed the
same comfortable'assistance m prayer as in the morning :
my soul longed after God, and cried to him with a filial
freedom, reverence, and boldness. O that I might be en
tirely consecrated and devoted to God."
The two next days he complains of bodily illness and
pain ; but much more of spiritual barrenness and unpro
fitableness. " Thursday, Nov. 10. Spent this day in fasting and
prayer alone. In the morning was very dull and lifeless,
melancholy and discouraged. But after some time, while
reading 2 Kings xix. my soul was moved and affected ;
especially reading verse 14, and onward. I saw there was
no other way for the afflicted children of God to take, but
to go to God with all their sorrows. Hezekiah, in his great
distress, went and spread his complaint before the Lord.
I was then enabled to see the mighty power of God, and
my extreme need of that power ; was enabled to cry to
him affectionately and ardently for his power and grace to
be exercised towards me. — Afterwards read the story of
David's trials, and observed the course he took under
them, how he strengthened his hands in God ; whereby
my soul was carried out after God, enabled to cry to him,
and rely upon him, and felt strong in the Lord. Was
afterwards refreshed, observing the blessed temper that
was wrought in David by his trials : all bitterness and
desire of revenge seemed wholly taken away ; so that he
mourned for the death of his enemies ; 2 Sam. i. 17. and
iv. 9, ad fin. — -Was enabled to bless God, that he had
given me something of this divine temper, that my soul
freely forgives and heartily loves my enemies."
It appears by his diary for the remaining part qf this
week, and for the two following weeks, that great part of
the time he was very ill, and full of pain ; and yet obliged,
through his circumstances, in this ill state of body, to be
at great fatigues, in labour, and travelling day and night,
and to expose himself in stormy and severe seasons. He
from time to time, within this space, speaks of outgoings
of soul after God ; his heart strengthened in God ; seasons
of divine sweetness and comfort ; his heart affected with
gratitude for mercies, &c. And yet there are many com
plaints of lifelessness, weakness of grace, distance from
God, and great unprofitableness. But still there appear a
constant care from day to day, not to lose time, but to im
prove it all for God.
" Lord's day, Nov. 27. In the evening I was greatly
affected in reading an account of the very joyful death of
a pious gentleman ; which seemed to invigorate my soul
in God's ways. I felt courageously engaged to pursue a
life of holiness and self-denial as long as I live ; and
poured out my soul to God for his help and assistance in
order thereto. Eternity then seemed near, and my soul
rejoiced, and longed to meet it. I trust that will be a
blessed day that finishes my toil here.
" Monday, Nov. 28. In the evening I was obliged to
spend time in company and conversation that was unpro
fitable. — Nothing lies heavier upon me, than the mis-
improvement of time.
" Tuesday, Nov. 29. Began to study the Indian tongue
* The commissioners who employed him, had directed him to spend
much time this winter with Mr. Sergeant, to learn the lanrfuaae of the
Indians ; which necessitated him \eiy often to ride, b:ii:_u.irds and i' r-

with Mr. Sergeant at Stockbridge.* — Was perplexed for
want of more retirement. — I love to live alone in my own
little cottage, where I can spend much time in prayer, &c.
" Wednesday, Nov. 30. Pursued my study of Indian :
but was very weak and disordered in body, and was
troubled in mind at the barrenness of the day, that I had
done so little for God. I had some enlargement in prayer
at night. Oh, a barn, or stable, hedge, or any other place,
is truly desirable, if God is there ! Sometimes, of late, my
hopes of Zion's prosperity are more raised than they were
in the summer. My soul seems to confide in God, that
he will yet ' show forth his salvation ' to his people, and
make Zion ' the joy of the whole earth. O how excellent
is the loving-kindness ofthe Lord!' My soul sometimes
inwardly exults at the lively thoughts of what God has
already done for his church, and what " mine eyes have
seen of the salvation of God." It is sweet, to hear nothing
but spiritual discourse from God's children ; and sinners
' inquiring the way to Zion,' saying, ' What shall we
do ? &c. O that I may see more of this blessed work !
" Thursday, Dec. 1. Both morning and evening I
enjoyed some intenseness of soul in prayer, and longed
for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world.
My soul seems, of late, to wait on God for his blessing on
Zion. O that religion might powerfully revive !
" Friday, Dec. 2. Enjoyed not so much health of body,
or fervour of mind, as yesterday. If the chariot-wheels
move with ease and speed at any time, for a short space,
yet by and by they drive heavily again. ' O that I had
the wings of a dove, that I might fly away ' from sin and
corruption, and be at rest in God !
" Saturday, Dec. 3. Rode home to my house and
people. Suffered much with the extreme cold. — I trust I
shall ere long arrive safe at my journey's end, where my
toils shall cease.
" Lord's day, Dec. 4. Had but little sense of divine and
heavenly things. My soul mourns over my barrenness.
Oh how sad is spiritual deadness !
" Monday, Dec. 5. Rode to Stockbridge. Was al
most outdone with the extreme cold. Had some refresh
ing meditations by the way ; but was barren, wandering,
and lifeless, much of the day. Thus my days roll away,
with but little done for God ; and this is my burden.
" Tuesday, Dec. 6. Was perplexed to see the vanity
and levity of professed Christians. Spent the evening
with a christian friend, who was able in some measure to
sympathize with me in my spiritual conflicts. Was a
little refreshed to find one with whom I could converse of
inward trials, SjC.
" Wednesday, Dec. 7. Spent the evening in perplexity,
with a kind of guilty indolence. When I have no heart
or resolution for God, and the duties incumbent on me, I
feel guilty of negligence and misimprovement of time.
Certainly I ought to be engaged in my work and business,
to the utmost extent of my strength and ability.
" Thursday, Dec. 8. My mind was much distracted
with different affections. 1 seemed to be at an amazing
distance from God ; and looking round in the world, to
see if there was not some happiness to be derived from it.
God, and certain objects in the world, seemed each to
invite my heart and affections ; and my soul seemed to
be distracted between them. I have not been so much
beset with the world for a long time ; and that with rela
tion to some particular objects which 1 thought myself
most dead to. But even while I was desiring to please
myself with any thing below, guilt, sorrow, and perplexity
attended the first motions of desire. Indeed I cannot see
the appearance of pleasure and happiness in the world, as
I used to do : and blessed be God for any habitual dead
ness to the world. — I found no peace, or deliverance from
this distraction and perplexity of mind, till I found access
to the throne of grace : and as soon as I had any sense of
God, and things divine, the allurements of the world
vanished, and my heart was determined for God. But
my soul mourned over my folly, that I should desire any
pleasure, but only in God. God forgive my spiritual
idolatry !"
wards, twenty miles through the uninhabited woods between Stockbridge
and Kiiiiuaumeek; which many times exposed him to extreme hardship
in the scveie seasons of the whiter.

PaRT V.

A. D. 1743, 1744. JET. 25—27.

341

The next thirteen duys he appears to have been continu
ally in deej) concern about the improvement of precious
time ; and there are many expressions of grief, that he
improved time no better ; such as, " Oh, what misery do
I feel, when " my thoughts rove after vanity ! I should be
happy if always engaged for God ! O wretched man that
I am !" &c. Speaks of his being pained with a sense of
his barrenness, perplexed with his wanderings, longing for
deliverance from the being of sin, mourning that time
passed away, and so little was done for God, &c. — On
Tuesday, December 20, he speaks of his being visited at
Kaunaumeek by some under spiritual concern.
" Thursday, Dec. 22. Spent this day alone in fasting and
prayer, and reading in God's word the exercises and
deliverances of his children. Had, I trust, some exercise
of faith, and realizing apprehension of divine power, grace,
and holiness ; and also of the unchangeableness of God,
that he is the same as when he delivered his saints of old
out of great tribulation. My soul was sundry times in
prayer enlarged for God's church and people. 0 that
Zion might become the ' joy of the whole earth !' It is
better to wait upon God with patience, than to put confi
dence in any thing in this lower world. ' My soul, wait
thou on the Lord ;' for ' from him comes thy salvation.'
" Friday, Dec. 23. Felt a little more courage and reso
lution in religion, than at some other times.
" Saturday, Dec. 24. Had some assistance and longing
desires after sanctification in prayer this day ; especially
in the evening : was sensible of my own weakness and
spiritual impotency ; saw plainly I should fall into sin, if
God of his abundant mercy did not " uphold my soul,
and withhold me from evil.' 0 that God would ' up
hold me by his free Spirit, and save me from the hour of
temptation.' " Lord's day, Dec. 25. Prayed much, in the morning,
with a feeling sense of my own spiritual weakness and in
sufficiency for any duty. God gave me some assistance in
preaching to the Indians ; and especially in the afternoon,
when I was enabled to speak with uncommon plainness,
freedom, and earnestness. Blessed be God for any assist
ance granted to one so unworthy. Afterwards felt some
thankfulness ; but still sensible of barrenness. — Spent some
time in the evening with one or two persons under spiri
tual concern, and exhorting others to their dutv, &c.
'' Monday, Dec. 26. Rode down to Stockbridge. Was
very much fatigued with my journey, wherein 1 under
went great hardships : was much exposed and very wetby
falling into a river. Spent the day and evening without
much sense of divine and heavenly things ; but felt guilty,
grieved, and perplexed with wandering careless thoughts.
" Tuesday, Dec. 27. Had a small degree of warmth in
secret prayer, in the evening; but, alas! had but little
spiritual life, and consequently but little comfort. Oh, the
pressure of a body of death /*
" Wednesday, Dec. 28. Rode about six miles to the
ordination of Mr. Hopkins. At the solemnity I was
somewhat affected with a sense of the greatness and im
portance of the work of a minister of Christ. Afterwards
was grieved to see the vanity of the multitude. In the
evening spent a little time with some christian friends,
with some degree of satisfaction ; but most of the time 1
had rather have been alone.
" Thursday, Dec. 29. Spent the day mainly in con
versing with friends ; yet enjoyed little satisfaction, because
1 could find but few disposed to converse of divine and
heavenly things. Alas, what are the things of this world,
to afford satisfaction to the soul ! — Near night returned to
Stockbridge ; in secret, I blessed God for retirement, and
that I am not always exposed to the company and con
versation of the world. O that I could live ' in the secret
of God's presence !'
" Friday, Dec. 30. Was in a solemn devout frame in
the evening. \\ ondered lhat earth, with all its charms,
should ever allure me in the least degree. 0 that I could
always realize the being and holiness of God !
" Saturday, Die. 31. Rode from Stockbridge home to
* This day he wrote the second letter among bis Remains.
t Which was, I suppose, to the value of about one hundred and eighty-
Jive povnds in our bills of the old tenor, as they now pass. By this, as well
as many other things, it is manifest, that his fieuuent melancholy did not

my house : the air was clear and calm, but as cold as ever
I felt it, or near. I was in great danger of perishing by
the extremity of the season. — Was enabled to meditate
much on the road.
" Lord's day, Jan. 1, 1744. In the morning had some
small degree of assistance in prayer. Saw myself so vile
and unworthy, that I could not look my people in the
face, when I came to preach. Oh, my meanness, folly,
ignorance, and inward pollution ! — In the evening had a
little assistance in prayer, so that the duty was delightful,
rather than burdensome. Reflected on the goodness of
God to me in the past year, &c. Of a truth God has been
kind and gracious to me, though he has caused me to pass
through many sorrows ; he has provided for me bounti
fully, so that I have been enabled, in about fifteen months
past, to bestow to charitable uses about a hundred pounds
New England money, that 1 can now remember .f Blessed
be the Lord, that has so far used me as his steward, to
distribute a portion qfhisgoods. May I always remember,
that all I have comes from God. Blessed be the Lord,
that has carried me through all the toils, fatigues, and
hardships of the year past, as well as the spiritual sorrows
and conflicts lhat have attended it. O that I could begin
this yeari-i.A God, and spend the whole of it to his glory,
either in life or death !
"Monday, Jan. 2. Had some affecting sense of my
own impotency and spiritual weakness. — It is nothing but
the power of God that keeps me from all manner of wick
edness. I see I am nothing, and can do nothing without
help from above. Oh, for divine grace ! In the evening,
had some ardour of soul in prayer, and longing desires lo
have God for my guide and safeguard at all times.}
" Tuesday, Jan. 3. Was employed much ofthe day m
writing ; and spent some time in other necessary employ
ment. But my time passes away so swiftly, that I am
astonished when I reflect on it, and see how little I do.
My state of solitude does not make the hours hang heavy
upon my hands. O what reason of thankfulness have I
on account of this retirement ! I find that I do not, and it
seems I cannot, lead a christian life when I am abroad,
and cannot spend time in devotion, christian conversation,
and serious meditation, as I should do. Those weeks that
I am obliged now to be from home, in order to learn the
Indian tongue, are mostly spent in perplexity and barren
ness, without much sweet relish of divine things ; and I
feel myself a stranger at the throne of grace, for want of
more frequent and continued retirement. When I return
home, and give myself to meditation, prayer, and fasting, a
new scene opens to my mind, and my soul longs for morti
fication, self-denial, humility, and divorcement from all the
things of the world. This evening my heart was some
what warm and fervent in prayer and meditation, so that I
was loth to indulge sleep. Continued in those duties till
about midnight.
" Wednesday, Jan. 4. Was in a resigned and mortified
temper of mind, much of the day. Time appeared a mo
ment, life a vapour, and all its enjoyments as empty bubbles,
and fleeting blasts of wind.
" Thursday, Jan. 5. Had an humbling and pressing
sense of my unworthiness. My sense of the badness of
my own heart filled my soul with bitterness and anguish;
which was ready to sink, as under the weight of a heavy'
burden. Thus I spent the evening, till late. — Was some
what intense and ardent in prayer.
" Friday, Jan. 6. Feeling and considering my extreme
weakness, and want of grace, the pollution of my soul, and
danger of temptations on every side, I set apart this day for
fasting and prayer, neither eating nor drinking from even
ing to evening, beseeching God to have mercy on me. My
soul intensely longed, that the dreadful spots and stains of
sin might be washed away from it. Saw something of
the power and all-sufficiency of God. My soul seemed
to rest on his power and grace ; longed for resignation to
his will, and mortification to all things here below. My
mind was greatly fixed on divine things : my resolutions
for a life of mortification, continual watchfulness, self-
arise from the consideration of any disadvantage he was laid under to get a
living in the world, by his expulsion from the "college.
I 1 his day he wrote the !/iin! letter among his Remains.

342

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

denial, seriousness, and devotion, were strong and fixed ;
my desires ardent and intense ; my conscience tender, and
afraid of every appearance of evil . My soul grieved with
reflection on past levity, and want of resolution for God. I
solemnly renewed my dedication of myself to God, and
longed for grace to enable me always to keep covenant
with him. Time appeared very short, eternity near; and a
great name, either in or after life, together with all earthly
pleasures and profits, but an empty bubble, a deluding
dream. " Saturday, Jan. 7. Spent this day in seriousness, with
stedfast resolutions for God and a life of mortification.
Studied closely, till I felt my bodily strength fail. Felt
some degree of resignation to God, with an acquiescence
in his dispensations. Was grieved that I could do so lit
tle for God before my bodily strength failed. — In the even
ing, though tired, was enabled to continue instant in prayer
for some time. Spent the time in reading, meditation, and
prayer, till the evening was far spent : was grieved to think
that I could not watch unto prayer the whole night. — But
blessed be God, heaven is a place of continual and inces
sant devotion, though the earth is dull."
The six days following he continued in the same happy
frame of mind ; enjoyed the same composure, calmness,
resignation, ardent desire, and sweet fervency of spirit, in a
high degree, every day, not one excepted. Thursday, this
week, he kept as a day of secret fasting and prayer.
" Saturday, Jan. 14. This morning enjoyed a most
solemn season in prayer : my soul seemed enlarged, and
assisted to pour out itself to God for grace, and for every
blessing I wanted, for myself, my dear christian friends, and
for the church of God ; and was so enabled to see him who is
invisible, that my soul rested upon him for the performance
of every thing I asked agreeable to his will. It was then
my happiness, to ' continue instant in prayer,' and was
enabled to continue in it for nearly an hour. My soul was
then ' strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.'
Longed exceedingly for angelic holiness and purity, and
to have all my thoughts, at all times, employed in divine
and heavenly things. O how blessed is a heavenly tem
per ! O how unspeakably blessed it is, to feel a measure
of that rectitude, in which we were at first created ! — Felt
the same divine assistance in prayer sundry times in the
day. My soul confided in God for myself, and for his
Zion ; trusted in divine power and grace, that he would
do glorious things in his church on earth, for his own
glory." The next day he speaks of some glimpses he had of the
divine glories, and of his being enabled to maintain his
resolutions in some measure ; but complains, that he could
not draw near to God. He seems to be filled with trem
bling fears lest he should return to a life of vanity, to
please himself with some of the enjoyments of this lower
world ; and speaks of his being much troubled, and feel
ing guilty, that he should address immortal souls with no
more ardency and desire of their salvation. — On Monday
he rode down to Stockbridge, when he was distressed with
the extreme cold ; but notwithstanding, his mind was in a
devout and solemn frame in his journey. The four next
days he was very ill, probably from the cold in bis journey ;
yet he spent the time in a solemn manner. On Friday
evening he visited Mr. Hopkins ; and on Saturday rode
eighteen miles to Solsbury, where he kept the sabbath, and
enjoyed considerable degrees of God's gracious presence,
assistance in duty, and divine comfort and refreshment,
longing to give himself wholly to God, to be his for ever.
" Monday, Jan. 23. I think I never felt more resigned
to God, nor so much dead to the world, in every respect,
as now ; was dead to all desire of reputation and greatness,
either in life, or after death ; all I longed for, was to be
holy, humble, crucified to the world, &c.
" Tuesday, Jan. 24. Near noon, rode over to Canaan.
In the evening I was unexpectedly visited by a consider
able number of people, with whom 1 was enabled lo con
verse profitably of divine things : took pains to describe
the difference between a regular and irregular self -love ;
the one consisting with a supreme love to God, but the
other not ; the former uniting God's glory and the soul's
° This is inserted among his Remains.

happiness, that they become one common interest, but the
latter disjoining and separating God's glory and man's
happiness, seeking the latter with a neglect of the former.
Illustrated this by that genuine love that is founded be
tween the sexes ; which is diverse from that which is
wrought up towards a person only by rational argument,
or hope of self-interest. Love is a pleasing passion, it
affords pleasure to the mind where it is; but yet, genuine
love is not, nor can be placed, upon any object with that
design of pleasure itself.'
On Wednesday he rode to Sheffield ; the next day, to
Stockbridge ; and on Saturday, home to Kaunaumeek,
though the season was cold and stormy : which journey
was followed with illness and pain. It appears by this
diary, that he spent the time, while riding, in profitable
meditations, and in lifting up his heart to God; and he
speaks of assistance, comfort, and refreshment ; but still
complains of barrenness, &c. His diary for the five next
days is full of the most heavy, bitter complaints ; and he
expresses himself as full of shame and self-loathing for his
lifeless temper of mind and sluggishness of spirit, and as
being in perplexity and extremity, and appearing to him
self unspeakably vile and guilty before God, on account
of some inward workings of corruption he found in his
heart, &c.
" Thursday, Feb. 2. Spent this day in fasting and prayer,
seeking the presence and assistance of God, that he would
enable me to overcome all my corruptions and spiritual
enemies. " Friday, Feb. 3. Enjoyed more freedom and comfort
than of late ; was engaged in meditation upon the different
whispers of the various powers and affections of a pious
mind, exercised with a great variety of dispensations : and
could but write, as well as meditate, on so entertaining a
subject.* I hope the Lord gave me some true sense of
divine things this day: but alas, how great and pressing
are the remains of indwelling corruption ! I am now more
sensible than ever, that God alone is ' the author and
finisher of our faith,' i. e. that the whole, and every part
of sanctification, and every good word, work, or thought,
found in me, is the effect of his power and grace ; that
' without him I can do nothing,' in the strictest sense, and
that ' he works in us to will and to do of his own good
pleasure,' and from no other motive. Oh, how amazing
it is that people can talk so much about men's power and
goodness ; when, if God did not hold us back every mo
ment, we should be devils incarnate ! This my bitter ex
perience, for several days last past, has abundantly taught
me concerning myself.
" Saturday, Feb. 4. Enjoyed some degree of freedom
and spiritual refreshment ; was enabled to pray with some
fervency, and longing desires of Zion's prosperity, and my
faith and hope seemed to take hold qf God, for the per
formance of what I was enabled to plead for. Sanctifi
cation in myself, and the ingathering of God's elect, was
all my desire ; and the hope of its accomplishment, all my
j°y- " Lord's day, Feb. 5. Was enabled in some measure
to rest and confide in God, and to prize his presence and
some glimpses of the light of his countenance, above my
necessary food. Thought myself, after the season of weak
ness, temptation, and desertion I endured the last week,
to be somewhat like Samson, when his locks began to
grow again. Was enabled to preach to my people with
more life and warmth than I have for some weeks past.
" Monday, Feb. 6. This morning my soul again was
strengthened in God, and found some sweet repose in him
in prayer ; longing especially for the complete mortification
of sensuality and pride, and for resignation to God's dis
pensations, at all times, as through grace I felt it at this
time. I did not desire deliverance from any difficulty that
attends my circumstances, unless God was willing. 0
how comfortable is this temper ! — Spent most of the day
in reading God's word, in writing, and prayer. Enjoyed
repeated and frequent comfort and intenseness of soul in
prayer through the day. In the evening spent some hours
in private conversation with my people ; and afterwards
felt some warmth in secret prayer.

Part V.

A. D. 1743, 1744. MT. 25—27.

343

" Tuesday, Feb. 7. Was much engaged in some sweet
meditations on the powers and affections ofthe godly soul
in their pursuit of their beloved object : wrote something
of the native language of spiritual sensation, in its soft and
tender whispers ; declaring, that it now feels and lastes
that the Lord is gracious ; that he is the supreme good, the
only soul-satisfying happiness : that he is a complete,
sufficient, and almighty portion : saying,
' Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none
upon earth that 1 desire besides this blessed portion. 0, I
feel it is heaven to please him, and to be just what he
would have me to be ! O that my soul were holy, as he is
holy ! 0 that it were pure, even as Christ is pure ; and per
fect, as my Father in heaven is perfect ! These, I feel, are
'the sweetest commands in God's book, comprising all
others. And shall I break them ! must I break them !
am I under a necessity of it as long as I live in the world !
O my soul, woe, woe is me that I am a sinner, because I
now necessarily grieve and offend this blessed God, who is
infinite in goodness and grace ! Oh, methinks, if he would
' punish me for my sins, it would not wound my heart so
deep to offend him : but though I sin continually, yet he
continually repeats his kindness to me ! Oh, methinks I
could bear any sufferings ; but how can I bear to grieve
and dishonour this blessed God ! How shall I yield ten
thousand times more honour to him ? What shall I do to
glorify and worship this best of beings ? O that I could
consecrate myself, soul and body, to his service for ever !
O that I could give up myself to him, so as never more to
attempt to be my own, or to have any will or affections
that are not perfectly conformed to him ! But, alas, alas !
I find I cannot be thus entirely devoted to God ; I cannot
live, and not sin. O ye angels, do ye glorify him inces
santly ; and if possible, prostrate yourselves lower before
the blessed King of heaven ? I long to bear a part with
you ; and, if it were possible, to help you. Oh, when we
have done all that we can, to all eternity, we shall not be
able to offer the ten thousandth part of the homage that
the glorious God deserves !'
" Felt something spiritual, devout, resigned, and morti
fied to the world, much of the day ; and especially towards
and in the evening. Blessed be God, that he enables me
to love him for himself.
" Wednesday, Feb. 8. Was in a comfortable frame of
soul most of the day ; though sensible of, and restless
under, spiritual barrenness. I find that both mind and
body are quickly tired with intenseness and fervour in the
things of God. O that I could be as incessant as angels
in devotion and spiritual fervour !
" Thursday, Feb. 9. Observed this day as a day of
fasting and prayer, entreating of God to bestow upon me
his blessing and grace ; especially to enable me to live a
life of mortification to the world, as well as of resignation
and patience. Enjoyed some realizing sense of divine
power and goodness in prayer, several times ; and was
enabled to roll the burden of myself, and friends, and
Zion, upon the goodness and grace of God : but, in the
general, was more dry and barren than I have usually been
of late upon such occasions.
" Friday, Feb. 10. Was exceedingly oppressed, most
of the day, with shame, grief, and fear, under a sense of
my past folly, as well as present barrenness and coldness.
When God sets before me my past misconduct, especially
any instances of misguided zeal, it sinks my soul into shame
and confusion, makes me afraid of a shaking leaf. My
fear is such as the prophet Jeremy complains of, Jer. xx.
10. — I have no confidence to hold up my face, even before
my fellow-worms ; but only when my soul confides in
God, and I find the sweet temper of Christ, the spirit of
humility, solemnity, and mortification, and resignation,
alive in my soul. — But, in the evening, was unexpectedly
refreshed in pouring out my complaint to God ; my shame
and .fear was turned into a sweet composure and acquies
cence in God.
" Saturday, Feb. 11 . Felt much as yesterday : enjoyed
but little sensible communion with God.
" Lord's day, Feb. 1 2. My soul seemed to confide in
God, and to repose itself on him ; and had outgoings of
soul after God in prayer. Enjoyed some divine assist
ance, in the forenoon, in preaching; but in the afternoon,

was more perplexed with shame, &c. Afterwards, found
some relief in prayer; loved, as a feeble, afflicted, de
spised creature, to cast myself on a God Of infinite, grace
and goodness, hoping for no happiness but from him.
" Monday, Feb. 13. Was calm and sedate in morning-
devotions ; and my soul seemed to rely on God. — Rode to
Stockbridge, and enjoyed some comfortable meditations
by the way ; had a more refreshing taste and relish of
heavenly blessedness than I have enjoyed for many months
past. I have many times, of late, felt as ardent desires of
holiness as ever ; but not so much sense of the sweetness
and unspeakable pleasure of the enjoyments and employ
ments of heaven. My soul longed to leave earth, and
bear a part with angels in their celestial employments.
My soul said, ' Lord, it is good to be here ;' and it appear
ed to be better to die than to lose the relish of these hea
venly delights."
A sense of divine things seemed to continue with him,
in a lesser degree, through the next day. On Wednesday
he was, by some discourse that he heard, cast into a melan
choly gloom, that operated much in the same manner as
his melancholy had formerly done, when he came first to
Kaunaumeek ; the effects of which seemed to continue in
some degree the six following days.
" Wednesday, Feb. 22. In the morning had as clear a
sense of the exceeding pollution of my nature, as ever I
remember to have had in my life. I then appeared to
myself inexpressibly loathsome aud defiled ; sins of child
hood, of early youth, and such follies as I had not thought
of for years together, as I remember, came now fresh to
my view as if committed but yesterday, and appeared in
the most odious colours ; they appeared more in numbers
than the hairs of my head ; yea, they ' went over my head
as a heavy burden.' — In the evening, the hand of faith
seemed to be strengthened in God ; my soul seemed to
rest and acquiesce in him ; was supported under my
burdens, reading the 125th Psalm ; and found that it
was sweet and comfortable to lean on God.
" Thursday, Feb. 23. Was frequent in prayer, and en
joyed some assistance. — There is a God in heaven who
overrules all things for the best ; and this is the comfort
of my soul : ' I had fainted, unless I had believed to see
the goodness of God in the land of the living,' notwith
standing present sorrows. — In the evening, enjoyed some
freedom in prayer, for myself, friends, and the church of
God. " Friday, Feb. 24. Was exceeding restless and per
plexed under a sense of the misimprovement of time ;
mourned to see time pass away ; felt in the greatest hurry ;
seemed to have every thing to do : yet could do nothing,
but only grieve and groan under my ignorance, unprofit
ableness, meanness, the foolishness of my actions and
thoughts, the pride and bitterness of some past frames, all
which at this time appeared to me in lively colours, and
filled me with shame. I could not compose my mind to
any profitable studies, by reason of this pressure. And
the reason, I judge, why I am not allowed to study a great
part of my time, is, because I am endeavouring to lay in
such a stock of knowledge, as shall be a self-sufficiency. —
I know it to be my indispensable duty to study, and
qualify myself in the best manner I can for public service :
but this is my misery, I naturally study and prepare, that
I may ' consume it upon my lusts ' of pride and self-con
fidence." He continued in much the same frame of uneasiness at
the misimprovement of time, and pressure of spirit under
a sense of vileness, unprofitableness, &c. for the six fol
lowing days; excepting some intervals of calmness and
composure, in resignation to and confidence in God.
" Friday, March 2. Was most of the day employed
in writing on a divine subject. Was frequent in prayer,
and enjoyed some small degree of assistance. But in the
evening, God was pleased to grant me a divine sweetness
in prayer ; especially in the duty of intercession. I think
I never felt so much kindness and love to those who, I
have reason to think, are my enemies — though at that time
I found such a disposition to think the best of all, that I
scarce knew how to think that any such thing as enmity
and hatred lodged in any soul ; it seemed as if all the
world must needs be friends — and never prayed with more

344

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

freedom and delight, for myself, or dearest friend, than I
did now for my enemies.
" Saturday, March 3. In the morning spent (I be
lieve) an hour in prayer, with great intenseness and free
dom, and with the most soft and tender affection towards
mankind. I longed that those who, I have reason to think,
owe me ill will, might be eternally happy. It seemed re
freshing to think of meeting them in heaven, how much
soever they had injured me on earth : had no disposition to
insist upon any confession from them, in order to reconci
liation, and the exercise of love and kindness to them. O
it is an emblem of heaven itself, to love all the world with
a love of kindness, forgiveness, and benevolence ; to feel
our souls sedate, mild, and meek ; to be void of all evil
surmisings and suspicions, and scarce able to think evil of
any man upon any occasion ; to find our hearts simple,
open, and free, to those that look upon us with a different
eye ! — Prayer was so sweet an exercise to me, that I knew
not how to cease, lest I should lose the spirit of prayen.
Felt no disposition to eat or drink, for the sake of the
pleasure of it, but only to support my nature, and fit me
for divine service. Could not be content without a very
particular mention of a great number of dear friends at the
throne of grace ; as also the particular circumstances of
many, so far as they were known.
" Lord's day, March 4. In the morning, enjoyed the
same intenseness in prayer as yesterday morning, though
not in so great a degree : felt the same spirit of love, uni
versal benevolence, forgiveness, humility, resignation, mor
tification to the world, and composure of mind, as then.
My soul rested in God ; and I found I wanted no other re
fuge or friend. While my soul thus trusts in God, all
things seem to be at peace with me, even the stones of the
earth : but when I cannot apprehend and confide in God,
all things appear with a different aspect."
Through the four next days he complains of barrenness,
want of holy confidence in God, stupidity, wanderings of
mind, &c. and speaks of oppression of mind under a sense
of exceeding meanness, past follies, as well as present
workings of corruption. — On Friday he seems to have
been restored to a considerable degree of the same excel
lent frame that he enjoyed the Saturday before.
" Saturday, March 10. In the morning, felt exceeding
dead to the world, and all its enjoyments : I thought I
was ready and willing to give up life and all its comforts,
as soon as called to it ; and yet then had as much comfort
of life as almost ever I had. Life itself now appeared but
an empty bubble ; the riches, honours, and common enjoy
ments of life appeared extremely tasteless. I longed to be
Eerpetually and entirely crucified to all things here below,
y the cross qf Christ. My soul was sweetly resigned to
God's disposal of me, in every regard ; and I saw there
had nothing happened but what was best for me. I con
fided in God, that he would never leave me, though I should
' walk through the valley ofthe shadow of death.' It was
then my meat and drink to be holy, to live to the Lord, and
die to the Lord. And 1 thought, that I then enjoyed such
a heaven, as far exceeded the most sublime conceptions of
an unregenerate soul ; and even unspeakably beyond what
I myself could conceive of at another time. I did not
wonder that Peter said, " Lord, it is good to be here,"
when thus refreshed with divine glories. My soul was full
of love and tenderness in the duty of intercession; espe
cially felt a most sweet affection to some precious godly
ministers of my acquaintance. Prayed earnestly for dear
Christians, and for those I have reason to fear are my ene
mies ; and could not have spoken a word of bitterness, or
entertained a bitter thought, against the vilest man living.
Had a sense of mv own great unworthiness. My soul
seemed to breathe forth love and praise to God afresh,
when I thought he would let his children love and receive
me as one of their brethren and fellow-citizens. When I
thought of their treating me in that manner, I longed to lie
at their feet ; and could think of no way to express the
sincerity and simplicity of my love and esteem of them, as
being much better than myself. — Towards night was very
* This was the last sabbath that ever be performed public service at
Kaunaumeek, and these the last sermons that ever he preached there. It
appears by his diary, that while be continued witb these Indians, he took

sorrowful ; seemed to myself the worst creature living ; and
could not pray, nor meditate, nor think of holding up my
face before the world. — Was a little relieved in prayer, in
the evening ; but longed to get on my knees, and ask for
giveness of every body that ever had seen any thing amiss
in my past conduct, especially in my religious zeal. —
Was afterwards much perplexed, so that I could not sleep
quietly. " Lord's day, March 11. My soul was in some measure
strengthened in God, in morning devotion ; so that I was
released from trembling fear and distress. — Preached to my
people from the parable of the smner, Matt. xiii. and enjoy
ed some assistance, both parts of the day : had some free
dom, affection, and fervency in addressing my poor people ;
longed that God should take hold of their hearts, and
make them spiritually alive. And indeed I had so much
to say to them, that I knew not how to leave off speak
ing* " Monday, March 12. In the morning was in a de
vout, tender, and loving frame of mind ; and was enabled
to cry to God, I hope, with a child-like spirit, with impor
tunity, and resignation, and composure of mind. My
spirit was full of quietness, and love to makind ; and long
ed that peace should reign on the earth : was grieved at the
very thoughts of a fiery, angry, and intemperate zeal in re
ligion ; mourned over past follies in that regard ; and my
soul confided in God for strength and grace sufficient for
my future work and trials. — Spent the day mainly in hard
labour, making preparation for my intended journey.
" Tuesday, March 13. Felt my soul going forth after
God sometimes ; but not with such ardency as I longed
for. In the evening, was enabled to continue instant in
prayer, for some considerable time together ; and especially
had respect to the journey I designed to enter upon, with
the leave of Divine Providence, on the morrow. Enjoyed
some freedom and fervency, entreating that the divine pre
sence might attend me in every place where my business
might lead me ; and had a particular reference to the trials
and temptations that I apprehended I might be more emi
nently exposed to in particular places. Was strengthened
and comforted ; although I was before very weary. Truly
the joy ofthe Lord is strength and life.
" Wednesday, March 14. Enjoyed some intenseness of
soul in prayer, repeating my petitions for God's presence
in everyplace where I expected to be in my journey. Be
sought the Lord that I might not be too much pleased and
amused with dear friends and acquaintance, in one place
and another. — Near ten set out on my journey ; and near
night came to Stockbridge.
" Thursday, March 15. Rode down to Sheffield. Here
I met a messenger from East Hampton on Long-Island;
who by the unanimous vote of that large town, was sent to
invite me thither, in order to settle with that people, where
I had been before frequently invited. Seemed more at a
loss what was my duty than before ; when I heard of the
great difficulties of that place, I was much concerned and
grieved, and felt some desires to comply with their re
quest ; but knew not what to do : endeavoured to commit
the case to God."
The two next days he went no further than Salisbury,
being much hindered by the rain. When he came there,
he was much indisposed. — He speaks of comfortable and
profitable conversation with christian friends, on these
days. " Lord's day, March 18. [At Salisbury.] Was ex
ceeding weak and faint, so that I could scarce walk : but
God was pleased to afford me much freedom, clearness, and
fervency in preaching : I have not had the like assistance
in preaching to sinners for many months past. — Here
another messenger met me, and informed me of the vote of
another congregation, to give me an invitation to come
among them upon probation for settlement.-)- Was some
what exercised in mind with a weight and burden of care.
O that God would ' send forth faithful labourers into his
harvest !' "
After this he went forward on his journey towards New
great pains with them , and did it with much discretion ; but the particular
manner how, has been omitted for brevity's sake.
t This congregation was that at Millington, near Haddam. They were
very earnestly desirous of his coming among them.

Part V.

A. D. 1743, 1744. MT. 25—27.

345

York and New Jersey : in which he proceeded slowly ;
performing his journey under great degrees of bodily in
disposition. However, he preached several times by the
way, being urged by friends ; in which he had consider
able assistance. He speaks of comfort in conversation
with christian friends, from time to lime, and of various
things in the exercises and frames of his heart, that show
much ofadivine influence on his mind in this journey : but
yet complains of the things that he feared, viz. a decline of
his spiritual life, or vivacity in religion, by means of his
constant removal from place to place, and want of retire
ment ; and complains bitterly of his unworthiness, dead
ness, &c. — He came to New York on Wednesday, March
28, and to Elizabeth-town on the Saturday following,
where it seems he waited till the commissioners came
together. " Thursday, April 5. Was again much exercised with
weakness, and with pain in my head. Attended on the
commissioners in their meeting.* Resolved to go on still
with the I ndian affair, if Divine Providence permitted ;
although I had before felt some inclination to go to East
Hampton, where I was solicited to go."f
After this, he continued two or three days in the Jerseys,
very ill ; and then returned to New York ; and from thence
into New England ; and went to his native town of Had
dam, where he arrived on Saturday, April 14 — And he
continues still his bitter complaints of want of retirement.
While he was in New York, he says thus, " Oh, it is not
the pleasures of the world can comfort me ! If God deny
his presence, what are the pleasures of the city to me ?
One hour of sweet retirement where God is, is better than
the whole world." And he continues to complain of his
ignorance, meanness, and unworthiness. However, he
speaks of some seasons of special assistance, and divine
sweetness. — He spent some days among his friends at
East Hampton and Millington.
" Tuesday, April 17. Rode to Millington again ; and
felt perplexed when I set out ; was feeble in body, and
weak in faith. I was going to preach a lecture ; and feared
I should never have assistance enough to get through. But
contriving to ride alone, at a distance from the company
that was going, I spent the time in lifting up my heart to
God : had not gone far before my soul was abundantly
strengthened with those words, ' If God be for us, who
can be against us?' I went on, confiding in God; and
fearing nothing so much as self-confidence. In this frame
I went to the house of God, and enjoyed some assistance.
Afterwards felt the spirit of love and meekness in conver
sation with some friends. Then rode home to my brother's ;
and in the evening, singing hymns with friends, my soul
seemed to melt ; and in prayer afterwards, enjoyed the
exercise of faith, and was enabled to be fervent in spirit :
found more of God's presence, than I have done any time
in my late wearisome journey. Eternity appeared very
near ; my nature was very weak, and seemed ready to be
dissolved ; the sun declining, and the shadows of the
evening drawing on apace. O I longed to fill up the
remaining moments all for God ! Though my body was
so feeble, and wearied with preaching, and much private
conversation, yet I wanted to sit up all night to do some
thing for God. To God, the giver of these refreshments,
be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
" Wednesday, April 18. Was very weak, and enjoyed
but little spiritual comfort. Was exercised with one who
cavilled against original sin. May the Lord open his eyes
to see the fountain of sin in himself!"
After this, he visited several ministers in Connecticut ;
* The Indians at Kaunaumeek being but few in number, and Mr. Brai
nerd having now been labouring among them about a year, and having
Erevailed upon them to be willing to leave Kaunaumeek, and remove to
tockbridge, to live constantly under Mr. Sergeant's ministry ; he thought
he might now do more service for Christ among the Indians elsewhere : and
therefore went this journey to New Jersey to lay tbe matter before the com
missioners; who met at Elizabeth-town, on this occasion, and determined
that ho should forthwith leave Kaunaumeek.and go to the Delaware Indians.
t By the invitations Mr. Brainerd had lately received, it appears, that it
was not from necessity, or for want of opportunities to settle in the ministry
amongst the English, notwithstanding the disgrace be had been laid under
at college, that ne was determined to forsake all the outward comforts to
be enjoyed in the English settlements, to go and spend his life among the
brutish savages, and endure the difficulties and self-denials of an Indian
mission. He had, just as he was leaving Kaunaumeek, had an earnest in
vitation to a settlement at East Hampton on Long Island, the fairest, plea-
santest town on the whole island, and one of its largest and most wealthy
parishes. The people there were unanimous in their desires to have him

and then travelled towards Kaunaumeek, and came to Mr.
Sergeant's at Stockbridge, Thursday, April 26. He per
formed this journey in a very weak slate of body. The
things he speaks of, appertaining to the frames and exer
cises of his mind, are at some times deadness and want of
spiritual comfort; at other times, resting in God, spiritual
sweetness in conversation, engagedness in meditation on
the road, assistance in preaching, rejoicing to think that so
much more of his work was done, and he so much nearer
to the eternal world. And he once and again speaks of a
sense of great ignorance, spiritual pollution, &c.
" Friday and Saturday, April 27, and 28. Spent some
time in visiting friends, and discoursing with my people,
(who were now moved down from their own place to Mr.
Sergeant's,) and found them very glad to see me returned.
Was exercised in my mind with a sense of my own un
worthiness. " Lord's day, April 29. Preached for Mr. Sergeant,
both parts of the day, from Rev. xiv. 4. ' These are they
which were not defiled,' &c. Enjoyed some freedom in
preaching, though not much spirituality. In the evening,
my heart was in some measure lifted up in thankfulness to
God for any assistance.
" Monday, April 30. Rode to Kaunaumeek, but was
extremely ill ; did not enjoy the comfort I hoped for in
my own house.
" Tuesday, May 1 . Having received new orders to go
to a number of Indians on Delaware river in Pennsylvania,
and my people here being mostly removed to Mr. Ser-
geant'si I this day took all my clothes, books, &c. and
disposed of them, and set out for Delaware river : but
made it my way to return to Mr. Sergeant's ; which I did
this day, just at night. Rode several hours in the rain
through the howling wilderness, although I was so dis
ordered in body, that little or nothing but blood came
from me."
He continued at Stockbridge the next day, and on
Thursday rode a little way, to Sheffield, under a great
degree of illness ; but with encouragement and cheerful
ness of mind under his fatigues. On Friday he rode to
Salisbury, and continued there till after the sabbath. He
speaks oif his soul's being, some part of this time, refreshed
in conversation with some christian friends, about their
heavenly home and their journey thither. At other times,
he speaks of himself as exceedingly perplexed with barren
ness and deadness, and has this exclamation, " Oh, that
time should pass with so little done for God !" — On Mon
day he rode to Sharon ; and speaks of himself as distressed
at the consideration ofthe misimprovement of time.
" Tuesday, May 8. Set out from Sharon in Connecti
cut, and travelled about forty-five miles to a place called
the Fish-kill ;l and lodged there. Spent much of my
time, while riding, in prayer, that God would go with me
to Delaware. My heart sometimes was ready to sink
with the thoughts of my work, and going alone in the wil
derness, I knew not where : but still it was comfortable
to think, that others of God's children had ' wandered
about in caves and dens of the earth,' and Abraham, when
he was called to go forth, ' went out, not knowing whither
he went.' O that I might follow after God !"
The next day he went forward on his journey ; crossed
Hudson's river, and went to Goshen in the Highlands ;
and so travelled across the woods, from Hudson's river to
Delaware, about a hundred miles, through a desolate and
hideous country, above New Jersey ; where were very few
settlements ; in which journey he suffered much fatigue
and hardship. He visited some Indians in the way,§ and
for their pastor, and for a long time continued in an earnest pursuit of what
they desired, and were hardly brought to relinquish their endeavours and
give up their hopes of obtaining him. Besides the invitation he had to Milling
ton ; which was near his native town, and in the midst of his friends. Nor
did Mr. Brainerd choose the business of a missionary to the Indians, rather
than accept of those invitations, because he was unacquainted with the
difficulties and sufferings which attended such a service ; for he had had
experience of these difficulties in summer and winter ; having spent about
a twelvemonth in a lonely desert among these savages, where he had gone
through extreme hardships, and been the subject of a train of outward and
inward sorrows, which were now fresh in his mind. Notwithstanding all
these things, he chose still to go on with this business ; and that although
the place he was now going to, was at a still much greater distance from
most of his friends, acquaintance, and native land.
t A place so called m New York government, near Hudson's river, on
the west side of the river.
§ See Mr. Brainerd's Narrative, in a letter to Mr. Pemberton, among his
Remains.

346

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

discoursed with them concerning Christianity. Was con
siderably melancholy and disconsolate, being alone in a
strange wilderness. On Saturday he came to a settlement
of Irish and Dutch people, about twelve miles above the
Forks of Delaware.
" Lord's day. May 13. Rose early; felt very poorly
after my long journey, and after being wet and fatigued.
Was very melancholy ; have scarce even seen such a
gloomy morning in my life ; there appeared to be no
sabbath ; the children were all at play ; I a stranger
in the wilderness, and knew not where to go; and all
circumstances seemed to conspire to render my affairs
dark and discouraging. Was disappointed respecting an
interpreter, and heard that the Indians were much scatter
ed, &c. Oh, I mourned after the presence of God, and
seemed like a creature banished from his sight ! yet he
was pleased to support my sinking soul, amidst all my
sorrows ; so that I never entertained any thought of quit
ting my business among the poor Indians ; but was
comforted to think that death would ere long set me free
from these distresses. — Rode about three or four miles to
the Irish people, where I found some that appeared sober
and concerned about religion. My heart then began to be
a little encouraged : went and preached first to the Irish,
and then to the Indians ; and in the evening, was a little
comforted ; my soul seemed to rest on God, and take
courage. O that the Lord would be my support and com
forter in an evil world !
" Monday, May 14. Was very busy in some necessary
studies. Felt myself very loose from all the world ; ail
appeared ' vanity and vexation of spirit.' Seemed lone
some and disconsolate, as if I were banished from all
mankind, and bereaved of all that is called pleasurable in
the world ; but appeared to myself so vile and unworthy,
it seemed fitter for me to be here than any where.
" Tuesday, May 15. Still much engaged inmy studies ;
and enjoyed more health than I have for some time past :
but was something dejected in spirit with a sense of my
meanness ; seemed as if I could never do any thing at all
to any good purpose by reason of ignorance and folly. O
that a sense of these things might work more habitual
humility in my soul !"
He continued much in the same frame the next day.
" Thursday, May 17. Wras this day greatly distressed
with a sense of my vileness ; appeared to myself too bad
to walk on God's earth, or to be treated with kindness by
any of his creatures. God was pleased to let me see my
inward pollution and corruption, to such a degree, that I
almost despaired of being made holy : ' Oh ! wretched
man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of
this death V In the afternoon met with the Indians, ac
cording to appointment, and preached to them. And
while riding to them, my soul seemed to confide in God ;
and afterwards had some relief and enlargement of soul in
prayer, and some assistance in the duty of intercession ;
vital piety and holiness appeared sweet to me, and I
longed for the perfection of it.
"Friday, May 18. Felt again something ofthe sweet
spirit of religion ; and my soul seemed to confide in God,
that he would never leave me. — But oftentimes saw my
self so mean a creature, that I knew not how to think of
preaching. O that I could always live to and upon God !
" Saturday, May 19. Was, some part ofthe time, greatly
oppressed with the weight and burden of my work ; it
seemed impossible for me ever to go through with the
business I had undertaken. — Towards night was very
calm and comfortable ; and I think my soul trusted in
God for help.
"Lord's day, Mm/ 20. Preached twice to the poor
Indians, and enjoyed some freedom in speaking, while I
attempted to remove their prejudices against Christianity.
My soul longed for assistance from above, all the while ;
for I saw I had no strength sufficient for that work. Af
terwards preached to the Irish people ; was much assisted
in the first prayer, and something in sermon. Several
persons seemed much concerned for their souls, with whom
* Mr Pemberton, in a letter to the Honourable Society in Scotland that
employed Mr. Brainerd, which he wrote concerning him, (published in
Scotland, in the Christian Monthly History.) writes thus. " We can with
pleasure say, that Mr. Brainerd passed through his ordination-trial to the
universal approbation ofthe Presbytery, and appeared uncommonly quali-

I discoursed afterwards with much freedom and some
power. Blessed be God for any assistance afforded to an
unworthy worm. O lhat I could live to him !"
Through the remainder of this week he was sometimes
ready to sink with a sense of his unworthiness and unfit
ness for the work of the ministry ; and sometimes
encouraged and lifted above his fears and sorrows, and
was enabled confidently to rely on God ; and especially
on Saturday, towards night, he enjoyed calmness and com
posure, and assistance in prayer to God. He rejoiced,
" That God remains unchangeably powerful and faithful, a
sure and sufficient portion, and the dwelling-place of his
children in all generations."
" Lord's day, May 27. Visited my Indians in the
morning, and attended upon a funeral among them ; was
affectedto see their heathenish practices. O that they might
be ' turned from darkness to light !' Afterwards got a
considerable number of them together, and preached to
them ; and observed them very attentive. After this,
preached to the white people from Heb. ii. 3. ' How shall
we escape, if we neglect,' Sec. Was enabled to speak with
some freedom and power : several people seemed much
concerned for their souls ; especially one who had been
educated a Roman catholic. Blessed be tlie Lord for
any help.
" Monday, May 28. Set out from the Indians above the
Forks of Delaware, on a journey towards Newark in New
Jersey, according to my orders. Rode through the wilder
ness ; was much fatigued with the heat ; lodged at a place
called Black-river; was exceedingly tired and worn out."
On Tuesday he came to Newark. The next day, went
to Elizabeth-town ; on Thursday he went to New York ;
and on Friday returned to Elizabeth-town. These days
were spent in some perplexity of mind. He continued at
Elizabeth-town till Friday m the week following. Was
enlivened, refreshed, and strengthened on the sabbath at
the Lord's table. The ensuing days qf the week were spent
chiefly in studies preparatory to his ordination ; and on
some of them he seemed to nave much of God's gracious
presence, and of the sweet influences of his Spirit ; but was
m a very weak state of body. On Saturday he rode to
Newark. " Lord's day, June 10. [At Newark] In the morning,
was much concerned how I should perform the work of
the day ; and trembled at the thoughts of being left to
myself. — Enjoyed very considerable assistance in all parts
of the public service. Had an opportunity again to at
tend on the ordinance of the Lord s supper, and through
divine goodness was refreshed in it : my soul was full of
love and tenderness towards the children of God, and to
wards all men ; felt a certain sweetness of disposition
towards every creature. At night I enjoyed more spirit
uality and sweet desire of holiness, than I have felt for
some time : was afraid of every thought and every motion,
lest thereby my heart should be drawn away from God.
O that I might never leave the blessed God ! ' Lord, in
thy presence is fulness of joy.' O tlie blessedness qf living
to God!
" Monday, June 11. This day the Presbytery met to
gether at Newark, in order to my ordination. Was very
weak and disordered in body ; yet endeavoured to repose
my confidence in God. Spent most of the day alone ;
especially the forenoon. At three in the afternoon preached
my probation-sermon, from Acts xxvi. 17, 18. ' Deliver
ing thee from the people, and from the Gentiles,' &c. be
ing a text given me for that end. Felt not well, either in
body or mind ; however God carried me through com
fortably. Afterwards passed an examination before the
Freslrutery. Was much tired, and my mind burdened
with the greatness of that charge I was in the most solemn
manner about to take upon me ; my mind was so pressed
with the weight of the work incumbent upon me, that I
could not sleep this night, though very weary and in great *
need of rest.
Tuesday, June 1 2 . Was this morning further examined,
respecting my experimental acquaintance with Christianity:*
fled for the work of the ministry. He seems to be armed with a great deal
of self-denial, and animated with a noble zeal to propagate the gospel among
those barbarous nations, who have long dwelt in the darkness of heathen
ism."

Part VI.

A. D. 1744, 1745, MT. 27, 28.

347

At ten o'clock rny ordination was attended ; the sermon
preached by the Reverend Mr. Pemberton. At this time
I was affected with a sense of the important trust commit
ted to me f yet was composed, and solemn, without dis
traction : and I hope that then, as many times before, I
gave myself up to God, to be for him, and not for another.
0 that I might always be engaged in the service of God,
and duly remember the solemn charge I have received, in
the presence of God, angels, and men. Amen. May I
be assisted of God for this purpose. — Towards night rode
to Elizabeth-town."

PART VI.
FROM HIS ORDINATION, TILL HE FIRST BEGAN TO PREACH
TO THE INDIANS AT CROSWEEKSUNG, AMONG WHOM HE
HAD HIS MOST REMARKABLE SUCCESS.
" Wednesday, June 13. [1744.] Spent some consider
able time in writing an account of the Indian affairs to
go to Scotland ; some, in conversation with friends ; but
enjoyed not much sweetness and satisfaction.
" Thursday, June 14. Received some particular kind
ness from friends ; and wondered that God should open
the hearts of any to treat me with kindness : saw myself
to be unworthy of any favour from God, or any of my
fellow-men. Was much exercised with pain in my head ;
however, I determined to set out on my journey towards
Delaware in the afternoon ; but when the afternoon came,
my pain increased exceedingly, so that I was obliged to
betake myself to bed. The night following I was greatly
distressed with pain and sickness ; was sometimes almost
bereaved of the exercise of reason by the extremity of
pain. Continued much distressed till Saturday, when I
was somewhat relieved by an emetic : but was unable to
walk abroad till the Monday following, in the afternoon ;
and still remained very feeble. I often admired the good
ness of God, that he did not suffer me to proceed on my
journey from this place where I was so tenderly used, and
to be sick by the way among strangers. — God is very
gracious to me, both in health and sickness, and inter
mingles much mercy with all my afflictions and toils.
Enjoyed some sweetness in things divine, in the midst of
my pain and weakness. O that I could praise the Lord ! "
On Tuesday, June 19, he set out on his journey home,
and in three days reached his place, near the Forks of
Delaware. Performed the journey under much weakness
of body ; but had comfort in his soul, from day to day :
and both his weakness of body, and consolation of mind,
continued through the week.
" Lord's day, June 24. Extremely feeble ; scarce able to
walk : however, visited my Indians, and took much pains
to instruct them ; laboured with some that were much
disaffected to Christianity. My mind was much burdened
with the weight and difficulty of my work. My whole
dependence and hope of success seemed to be on God ;
who alone I saw could make them willing to receive in
struction. My heart was much engaged in prayer, send
ing up silent requests to God, even while I was speaking
to them. O that I could always go in the strength of the
Lord !
"Monday, June 25. Was something better in health
than of late ; was able to spend a considerable part of the
day in prayer and close studies. Had more freedom and
fervency iii prayer than usual of late ; especially longed
for the presence of God in my work, and that the poor
heathen might be converted. And in evening prayer my
faith and hope in God were much raised. To an eye of
reason every thing that respects the conversion of' the heathen
is as dark as midnight ; and yet I cannot but hope in God
for the accomplishment of something glorious among
them. My soul longed much for the advancement of the
Redeemer's kingdom on earth. Was very fearful lest I
should admit some vain thought, and so lose the sense I
then had of divine things. O for an abiding heavenly
temper !

" Tuesday, June 26. In the morning my desires seemed
to rise, and ascend up freely to God. Was busy most of
the day in translating pravers into the language of the
Delaware Indians ; met with great difficulty, by reasoh
that my interpreter was altogether unacquainted with the
business. But though I was much discouraged with the
extreme difficulty of that work, yet God supported me ;
and especially in the evening gave me sweet refreshment.
In prayer my soul was enlarged, and my faith drawn into
sensible exercise ; was enabled to cry to God for my poor
Indians ; and though the work of their conversion ap
peared impossible with man, yet with Godl saw all things
were possible. My faith was much strengthened, by ob
serving the wonderful assistance God afforded his servants
Nehemiah and Ezra, in reforming his people, and re-es
tablishing his ancient church. I was much assisted in
prayer for dear christian friends, and for others that I ap
prehended to be Christless; but was more especially
concerned for the poor heathen, and those of my own
charge : was enabled to be instant in prayer for them ;
and hoped that God would bow the heavens and come
down for their salvation. It seemed to me there could be
no impediment sufficient to obstruct that glorious work,
seeing the living God, as I strongly hoped, was engaged
for it. I continued in a solemn frame, lifting up my heart
to God for assistance and grace, that I might be more
mortified to this present world, that my whole soul might
be taken up continually in concern for the advancement
of Christ's kingdom : longed that God would purge me
more, that I might be as a chosen vessel to bear his name
among the heathens. Continued in this frame till I
dropped asleep.
" Wednesday, June 27. Felt something of the same
solemn concern, and spirit of prayer, that I enjoyed last
night, soon after I rose in the morning.- — In the afternoon
rode several miles to see if I could procure any lands for
the poor Indians, that they might live together, and be
under better advantages for instruction. While I was
riding had a deep sense of the greatness and difficulty of
my work ; and my soul seemed to rely wholly upon God
for success, in the diligent and faithful use of means.
Saw, with greatest certainty, that the arm of the Lord
must be revealed, for the help of these poor heathen, if
ever they were delivered from the bondage of the powers
of darkness. Spent most of the time, while riding, in
lifting up my heart for grace and assistance.
" Thursday, June 28. Spent the morning in reading
several parts of the Holy Scripture, and in fervent prayer
for my Indians, that God would set up his kingdom among
them, and bring them into his church. — About nine I
withdrew to my usual place of retirement in the woods ;
and there again enjoyed some assistance in prayer. My
great concern was for the conversion of the heathen to
God ; and the Lord helped me to plead with him for it.
Towards noon rode up to the Indians, in order to preach
to them ; and while going, my heart went up to God in
prayer for them ; could freely tell God, he knew that the
cause was not mine,- which I was engaged in; but it was
his own cause, and it would be for his own glory to con
vert the poor Indians : and blessed be God, I felt no desire
of their conversion, that I might receive honour from the
world, as being the instrument of it. Had some freedom
in speaking to the Indians."
The next day he speaks of some serious concern for the
kingdom of the blessed Redeemer ; but complains much
of barrenness, wanderings, inactivity, &c.
"Saturday, June 30. My soul was very solemn in
reading God's word ; especially the ninth chapter of
Daniel. I saw how God had called out his servants to
prayer, and made them wrestle with him, when he designed
to bestow any great mercy on his church. And, alas ! I
was ashamed of myself, to think of my dulness and in
activity, when there' seemed to be so much to do for the
upbuilding of Zion. Oh, how does Zion lie waste ! I
longed that the church of God might be enlarged : was
enabled to pray, I think, in faith ; my soul seemed sen
sibly to confide in God, and was enabled to wrestle with
him. Afterwards walked abroad to a place of sweet re
tirement, and enjoyed some assistance in prayer again ;
had a sense of my great need of divine help, and felt my

348

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

soul sensibly depend on God. Blessed be God, this has
been a comfortable week to me.
" Lord's day, July 1. In the morning was perplexed
with wandering, vain thoughts ; was much grieved, judged
and condemned myself before God. And oh, how mise
rable did I feel, because I could not live to God I At ten,
rode away with a heavy heart, to preach to my Indians.
Upon the road I attempted to lift up my heart to God ;
but was infested with an unsettled, wandering frame of
mind ; and was exceeding restless and perplexed, and fill
ed with shame and confusion before God. I seemed to
myself to be ' more brutish than any man ;' and thought
none deserved to be ' cast out of God's presence' so
much as I. If I attempted to lift up my heart to God, as
I frequently did by the way, on a sudden, before I was
aware, my thoughts were wandering ' to the ends of the
earth ;' and my soul was filled with surprise and anxiety,
to find it thus. Thus also after I came to the Indians my
mind was confused ; and I felt nothing sensibly of that
sweet reliance on God, that my soul has been comforted
with in days past. Spent the forenoon in this posture of
mind, and preached to the Indians without any heart. In
the afternoon I felt still barren, when I began to preach ;
and for about half an hour, I seemed to myself to know
nothing, and to have nothing to say to the Indians ; but
soon after I found in myself a Spirit of love, and warmth,
and power, to address the poor Indians ; and God helped
me to plead with them, to ' turn from all the vanities of
the heathen, to the living God :' and I am persuaded the
Lord touched their consciences ; for I never saw such at
tention raised in them before. And when I came away
from them, I spent the whole time while I was riding to
my lodgings, three miles distant, in prayer and praise to
God. And after I had rode more than two miles, it came
into my mind to dedicate myself to God again ; which I
did with great solemnity, and unspeakable satisfaction ;
especially gave up myself to him renewed in the work of
the ministry. And this I did by divine grace, I hope,
without any exception or reserve : not in the least shrink
ing back from any difficulties that might attend this great
and blessed work. I seemed to be most free, cheerful, and
full in this dedication of myself. My whole soul cried,' Lord,
to thee I dedicate myself! O accept of me, and let me be
thine for ever. Lord, I desire nothing else, I desire nothing
more. O come, come, Lord, accept a poor worm. Whom
have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon earth
that I desire besides thee.' After this, was enabled to praise
God with my whole soul, that he had enabled me to de
vote and consecrate all my powers to him in this solemn
manner. My heart rejoiced in my particular work as a
missionary ; rejoiced in my necessity of self-denial in many
respects ; and still continued to give up myself to God, and
implore mercy of him ; praying incessantly, every moment,
with sweet fervency. My nature being very weak of late,
and much spent, was now considerably overcome : mv
fingers grew very feeble, and somewhat numb, so that I
could scarcely stretch them out straight; and when I
lighted from my horse, could hardly walk, my joint-
seemed all to be loosed. But I felt abundant strength in
the inner man. Preached to the white people : God help
ed me much, especially in prayer. Sundry of my poor
Indians were so moved as to come to meeting also ; and
one appeared much concerned.
" Monday, July 2. Had some relish ofthe divine com
forts of yesterday ; but could not get that warmth and
exercise of faith that I desired. Had sometimes a dis
tressing sense of my past follies, and present ignorance
and barrenness : and especially in the afternoon, was sunk
down under a load of sin and guilt, in that I had lived so
little to God, after his abundant goodness to me yesterday.
In the evening, though very weak, was enabled to pray
with fervency, and to continue instant in prayer, near an
hour. My soul mourned over the power of its corruption,
and longed exceedingly to be washed and purged as with
hyssop. Was enabled to pray for my dear absent friends,
Christ's ministers, and his church; and enjoyed much
freedom and fervency, but not so much comfort, by reason
of guilt and shame before God — Judged and condemned
myself for the follies of the day.
" Tuesday, July 3. Was still very weak. This morn

ing was enabled to pray under a feeling sense of my need
of help from God, and, I trust, had some faith in exer
cise ; and, blessed be God, was enabled to plead with him
a considerable time. Truly God is good to me". But my
soul mourned, and was grieved at my sinfulness and bar
renness, and longed to be more engaged for God. Near
nine withdrew again for prayer ; and through divine
goodness, had tlie blessed Spirit of prayer ; my soul loved
the duty, and longed for God in it. O it is sweet to be
the Lord's, to be sensibly devoted to him ! What a blessed
portion is God ! How glorious, how lovely in himself ! O
my soul longed to improve time wholly for God ! 
Spent most of the day in translating prayers into Indian.
 In the evening was enabled again to wrestle with God
in prayer with fervency. Was enabled to maintain a self-
diffident and watchful frame of spirit, in the evening, and
was jealous and afraid lest I should admit carelessness
and self-confidence."
The next day he seems to have had special assistance'
and fervency most of the day, but in a less degree than
the preceding day. Tuesday was spent in great bodily
weakness ; yet seems to have been spent in continual and
exceeding painfulness in religion ; but in great bitterness
of spirit by reason of his vileness and corruption ; he says,
" I thought there was not one creature living so vile as I.
Oh, my inward pollution ! Oh, my guilt and shame before
God !  1 know not what to do. Oh, I longed ardently
to be cleansed and washed from the stains of inward pol
lution ! Oh, to be made like God, or rather to be made fit
for God to own !"
" Friday, July 6. Awoke this morning in the fear of
God : soon called to mind my sadness in the evening
past ; and spent my first waking minutes in prayer for
sanctification, that my soul may be washed from its exceed
ing pollution and defilement. After I arose, I spent some
time in reading God's word and in prayer. I cried to
God under a sense of my great indigency.  1 am, of
late, most of all concerned for ministerial qualifications,
and the conversion of the heathen : last year I longed to
be prepared for a world of glory, and speedily to depart
out of this world ; but of late all my concern almost is
for the conversion of the heathen ; and for that end I long
to live. But blessed be God, I have less desire to live
for any of the pleasures of the world, than ever I had. I
long and love to be a pilgrim ; and want grace to imitate
the life, labours, and sufferings of St. Paul among the
heathen. And when I long for holiness now, it is not so
much for myself as formerly ; but rather that thereby I
may become an ' able minister of the New Testament,'
especially to the heathen. Spent about two hours this
morning in reading and prayer by turns ; and was in a
watchful, tender frame, afraid of every thing that might
cool my affections, and draw away my heart from God.
Was a 'little strengthened in my studies ; but near night
was very weak and weary.
" Saturday, July 7. Was very much disordered this
morning, and my vigour all spent and exhausted : but was
affected and refreshed in reading the sweet story of Elijah's
translation, and enjoyed some affection and fervency in
frayer : longed much for ministerial gifts and graces, that
might do something in the cause of God. Afterwards
was refreshed and invigorated, while reading Mr. Joseph
Alleine's first Case of Conscience, &c. and enabled then to
pray with some ardour of soul, and was afraid of careless
ness and self-confidence, and longed for holiness.
" Lord's day, July 8. Was ill last night, not able to
rest quietly. Had some small degree of assistance in
preaching to the Indians ; and afterwards was enabled to
preach to the white people with some power, especially in
the close of my discourse, from Jer. iii. 23. ' Truly in vain
is salvation hoped for from the hills,' &c. The Lord also
assisted me in some measure in the first prayer : blessed
be his name. Near night, though very weary, was enabled
to read God's word with some sweet relish of it, and to
pray with affection, fervency, and I trust with faith : my
soul was more sensibly dependent on God than usual.
Was watchful, tender, and jealous of my own heart, lest I
should admit carelessness and vain thoughts, and grieve
the blessed Spirit, so that he should withdraw his sweet,
kind, and tender influences. Longed to ' depart, and be

Part VI.

A. D. 1744, 1745. M.T. 27, 28.

349

with Christ,' more than at any time of late. My soul
was exceedingly united to the saints of ancient times, as
well as those now living ; especially my soul melted for
the society of Elijah and Elisha. Was enabled to cry to
God with a child-like spirit, and to continue instant in
prayer for some time. Was much enlarged in the sweet
duty of intercession : was enabled to remember great num
bers of dear friends, and precious souls, as well as Christ's
ministers. Continued in this frame, afraid of every idle
thought, till I dropped asleep.
" Monday, July 9. Was under much illness of body
most of the day ; and not able to sit up the whole day.
Towards night felt a little better. Then spent some time
in reading God's word and prayer ; enjoyed some degree
of fervency and affection ; was enabled to plead with
God for his cause and kingdom : and, through divine
goodness, it was apparent to me, that it was his cause I
pleaded for, and not my own ; and was enabled to make
this an argument with God to answer my requests.
" Tuesday, July 10. Was very ill, and full of pain, and
very dull and spiritless. — In the evening had an affecting
sense of my ignorance, &c. and of my need of God at all
times, to do every thing for me ; and my soul was hum
bled before God.
" Wednesday, July 1 1 . Was still exercised with illness
and pain. Had some degree of affection and warmth in
prayer and reading God's word : longed for Abraham's
faith and fellowship with God; and felt some resolution
to spend all my time for God, and to exert myself with
more fervency in his service ; but found my body weak
and feeble. In the afternoon, though very ill, was enabled
to spend some considerable time in prayer ; spent indeed
most of the day in that exercise ; and my soul was diffi
dent, watchful, and tender, lest I should offend my bless
ed Friend, in thought or behaviour. I am persuaded my
soul confided in, and leaned upon, the blessed God. Oh,
what need did I see myself to stand in of God at all times,
to assist me and lead me ! — Found a great want of strength
and vigour, both in the outward and inner man."
The exercises and experiences that he speaks of in the
next nine days, are very similar to those of the preceding
days of this and the foregoing week ; a sense of his own
weakness, ignorance, unprofitableness, and vileness ; loath
ing and abhorring himself ; self-diffidence ; sense of the
greatness of his work, and his great need of divine help,
and the extreme danger of self-confidence ; longing for
holiness and humilitv, and to be fitted for his work, and
to live to God ; and longing for the conversion of the
Indians ; and these things to a very great degree. '
" Saturday, July 21. This morning I was greatly op
pressed with guilt and shame, from a sense of inward
vileness and pollution. About nine, withdrew to the
woods for prayer ; but had not much comfort ; I appeared
to myself the vilest, meanest creature upon earth, and
could scarcely live with myself; so mean and vile I
appeared, that I thought I should never be able to hold
up my face in heaven, if God of his infinite grace should
bring me thither. Towards night my burden respecting
my work among the Indians began to increase much ; and
was aggravated by hearing sundry things that looked very
discouraging ; in particular, that they intended to meet
together the next day for an idolatrous feast and dance.
Then I began to be in anguish : I thought I must in con
science go, and endeavour to break them up ; and knew
not how to attempt such a thing. However, I withdrew
for prayer, hoping for strength from above. And in prayer
I was exceedingly enlarged, and my soul was as much
drawn out as ever I remember it to have been in my life,
or near. I was in such anguish, and pleaded with so
much earnestness and importunity, that when I rose from
my knees I felt extremely weak and overcome, I could
scarcely walk straight, my joints were loosed, the sweat
ran down my face and body, and nature seemed as if it
would dissolve. So far as I could judge, I was wholly
free from selfish ends in my fervent supplications for the
poor Indians. I knew thev were met together to worship
devils, and not God ; and this made me cry earnestly, that
God would now appea-, and help me in my attempts to
* See Mr. Brainerd's narrative addressed to Mr. Pemberton, among his

break up this idolatrous meeting. My soul pleaded long ;
and I thought God would hear, and would go with me to
vindicate his own cause : I seemed to confide in God for
his presence and assistance. And thus I spent the even
ing praying incessantly for divine assistance, and that I
might not be self-dependent, but still have my whole
dependence upon God. What I passed through was re
markable, and indeed inexpressible. All things here be
low vanished ; and there appeared to be nothing of any
considerable importance to me, but holiness of heart and
life, and the conversion of the heathen to God. All
my cares, fears, and desires, which might be said to
be of a worldly nature, disappeared ; and were, in mv
esteem, of little more importance than a puff of wind. I
exceedingly longed, that God would get to himself a name
among the heathen ; and I appealed to him with the
greatest freedom, that he knew I ' preferred him above my
chief joy.' Indeed, I had no notion of joy from this
world ; I cared not where or how I lived, or what hard
ships I went ' through, so that I could but gain souls to
Christ. I continued in this frame all the evening and
night. While I was asleep, I dreamed of these things ;
and when I waked, (as I frequently did,) the first thing I
thought of was this great work of pleading for God against
Satan. " Lord's day, July 22. When I waked, my soul was
burdened with what seemed to be before me. I cried to
God before I could get out of my bed : and as soon as I
was dressed, I withdrew into the woods, to pour out my
burdened soul to God, especially for assistance in my
feat work ; for I could scarcely think of any thing else.
enjoyed the same freedom and fervency as the last even
ing ; and did with unspeakable freedom give up myself
afresh to God, for life or death, for all hardships he should
call me to among the heathen : and felt as if nothing could
discourage me from this blessed work. I had a strong
hope, that God would ' bow the heavens and come down,'
and do some marvellous work among the heathen. And
when I was riding to the Indians, three miles, my heart
was continually going up to God for his presence and
assistance ; and hoping, and almost expecting, that God
would make this the day of his power and grace amongst
the poor Indians. When I came to them, I found them
engaged in their frolic ; but through divine goodness I got
them to break up and attend to my preaching : yet still
there appeared nothing of the special power of God among
them. Preached again to them in the afternoon ; and ob
served the Indians were more sober than before : but still
saw nothing special among them ; from whence Satan
took occasion to tempt and buffet me with these cursed
suggestions, There is no God, or if there be, he is not able
to convert the Indians before they have more knowledge,
&c. I was very weak and weary, and my soul borne
down with perplexity ; but was mortified to all the world,
and was determined still to wait upon God for the con
version of the heathen, though the devil tempted me to
the contrary.
" Monday, July 23. Retained still a deep and pressing
sense of what lay with so much weight upon me yester
day ; but was more calm and quiet ; enjoyed freedom
and composure, after the temptations of the last evening :
had sweet resignation to the divine will; and desired
nothing so much as the conversion of the heathen to God,
and that his kingdom might come in my own heart, and
the hearts of others. Rode to a settlement of Irish people,
about fifteen miles south-westward ; spent my time in
prayer and meditation by the way. Near night preached
from Matt. v. 3. ' Blessed are the poor in spirit,' &c. —
God was pleased to afford me some degree of freedom and
fervency. Blessed be God for any measure of assistance.
" Tuesday, July 24. Rode about seventeen miles west
ward over a hideous mountain, to a number of Indians.
Got together near thirty of them : preached to them in the
evening, and lodged among them.* — Was weak, and felt
in some degree disconsolate ; yet could have no freedom
in the thought of any other circumstances or business in
life. All my desire was the conversion of the heathen,
and all my hope was in God. God does not suffer me to

350

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

please or comfort myself with hopes of seeing friends,
returning to my dear acquaintance, and enjoying worldly
comforts." The next day he preached to these Indians again, and
then returned to the Irish settlement, and there preached
to a numerous congregation. There was a considerable
appearance of awakening in the congregation. Thursday
he returned home, exceedingly fatigued and spent ; still
in the same frame of mortification lo the world, and solicit
ous for the advancement of Christ's kingdom ; and on this
dav he says thus : " I have felt this week more of the
spirit of a pilgrim on earth than perhaps ever before ; and
yet so desirous to see Zion's prosperity, that I was not so
willing to leave this scene of sorrows as I used to be." —
The two remaining days of the week he was very ill, and
complains of wanderings, dulness, and want of spiritual
fervency and sweetness. On the sabbath he was confined
by illness, not able to go out to preach. After this, his ill
ness increased upon him, and he continued very iii all the
week;* and says, that "he thought he never before en
dured such a season of distressing weakness ; and that his
nature was so spent, that he couid neither stand, sit, nor
lie with any quiet ; and that he was exercised with ex
treme faintness and sickness at his stomach ; and that his
mind was as much disordered as his body, seeming to be
stupid, and without any kind of affections towards all ob
jects ; and yet perplexed, to think that he lived for
nothing, that precious time rolled away, and he could do
nothing but trifle : and speaks of it as a season wherein
Satan buffeted him with some peculiar temptations." —
Conceming the next five days he writes thus, " On Lord's
day, August 5, was still very poor. But, though very
weak, I visited and preached to the poor Indians twice,
and was strengthened vastly beyond my expectations.
And indeed, the Lord gave me some freedom and fervency
in addressing them ; though I had not strength enough to
stand, but was obliged to sit down the whole time. To
wards night was extremely weak, faint, sick, and full of
pain. And thus I have continued much in the same state
that I was in last week, through the most of this, (it being
now Friday,) unable to engage in any business ; frequently
unable to pray in the family. I am obliged to let all my
thoughts and concerns run at random ; for I have neither
strength to read, meditate, or pray : and this naturally per
plexes my mind. I seem to myself like a man that has
all his estate embarked in one small boat, unhappily going
adrift, down a swift torrent. The poor owner stands on the
shore, and looks, and laments his loss. — But, alas ! though
my all seems to be adrift, and I stand and see it, I dare
not lament ; for this sinks my spirits more, and aggravates
my bodily disorders ! I am forced therefore to divert my
self with trifles ; although at the same time I am afraid,
and often feel as if I was guilty ofthe misimprovement of
time. And oftentimes my conscience is so exercised with
this miserable way of spending time, that I have no peace ;
though I have no strength of mind or body to improve it
to better purpose. O that God would pity my distressed
state!" The next three weeks after this his illness was not so
extreme ; he was in some degree capable of business, both
public and private; although he had some turns wherein
his indisposition prevailed to a great degree. He also in
this space had, for the most part, much more inward as
sistance, and strength of mind. He often expresses great
longings for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom, espe
cially by the conversion ofthe heathen to God ; and speaks
of this hope as all his delight and joy. He continues still
to express his usual longings after holiness, living to God,
and a sense of his own unworthiness. He several times
speaks of his appearing to himself the vilest creature on
earth ; and once says, that he verily thought there were
none of God's children who fell so far short of that holi
ness and perfection in their obedience which God requires,
as he. He speaks of his feeling more dead than ever to
the enjoyments ofthe world. He sometimes mentions the
special assistance he had, this space of time, in preaching
to the Indians, and of appearances of religious concern
among them. He speaks also of assistance in prayer for
* This week, on Tuesday, he wrote the fourth letter among his Remains.

absent friends, and especially ministers and candidates for
the ministry ; and of much comfort he enjoyed in the com
pany of some ministers who came to visit him.
" Saturday, Sept. 1. Was so far strengthened, after a
season of great weakness, that I was able to spend two or
three hours in writing on a divine subject. Enjoyed some
comfort and sweetness in things divine and sacred : and as
my bodily strength was in some measure restored, so my
soul seemed to be somewhat vigorous, and engaged in the
things of God.
" Lord's day, Sept. 2. Was enabled to speak to my
poor Indians with much concern and fervency ; and I am
persuaded God enabled me to exercise faith in him, while
I was speaking to them. I perceived that some of them
were afraid to hearken to and embrace Christianity, lest
they should be enchanted and poisoned by some of Ihe
powows : but I was enabled to plead with them not to fear
these ; and confiding in God for safety and deliverance, I
bid a challenge to all these powers qf darkness, to do their
worst upon me first. I told my people I was a Christian,
and asked them why the powows did not bewitch and poi
son me. I scarcely ever felt more sensible of my own un
worthiness, than in this action : I saw, that the honour of
God was concerned in the affair ; and I desired to be pre
served — not from selfish views, but — for a testimony of the
divine power and goodness, and of the truth of Christianity,
and that God might be glorified. Afterwards I found my
soul rejoice in God for his assisting grace."
After this he went a journey into New England, and
was absent from the place of his abode, at -the Forks of
Delaware, about three weeks. He was in a feeble state the
greater part of the time. But in the latter part of the jour
ney he found he gained much in health and strength. And
as to the state of his mind, and his religious and spiritual
exercises, it was much with him as usual in his journeys;
excepting that the frame of his mind seemed more generally
to be comfortable. But yet there are complaints of some
uncomfortable seasons, want of fervency, and want of re
tirements, and time alone with God. In his journey, he
did not forget the Indians ; but once and again speaks of
his longing for their conversion.
" Wednesday, Sept. 26. Rode home to the Forks of
Delaware. What reason have I to bless God, who has
preserved me in riding more than four hundred and twenty
miles, and has ' kept all mv bones, that not one of them
has been broken 1' My health likewise is greatly recovered.
0 that I could dedicate my all to God ! This is all the re
turn I can make to him.
" Thursday, Sept. 27. Was somewhat melancholy;
had not much freedom and comfort in prayer : my soul is
disconsolate when God is withdrawn.
" Friday, Sept. 28. Spent the day in prayer, reading,
and writing. Felt some small degree of warmth in prayer,
and some desires of the enlargement of Christ's kingdom
by the conversion of the heathen, and that God would
make me a ' chosen vessel, to bear his name before them ;'
longed for grace to enable me to be faithful."
The next day he speaks of the same longings for the
advancement of Christ's kingdom, and the conversion of
the Indians ; but complains greatly of the ill effects of the
diversions of his late journey, as unfixing his mind from
that degree of engagedness, fervency, watchfulness, &c.
which he enjoyed before. And the like complaints are
continued the day after.
" Monday, Oct. 1. Was engaged this day in making
preparation for my intended journey to Susquehannah :
withdrew several times to the woods for secret duties, and
endeavoured to plead for the divine presence to go with me
to the poor pagans, to whom I was going to preach the
gospel. Towards night rode about four miles, and met
brother Byram ;-\ who was come, at my desire, to be my
companion in travel to the Indians. Irejoiced to see him;
and, I trust, God made his conversation profitable to me.
I saw him, as I thought, more dead to the world, its anxious
cares and alluring objects, than I was ; and this made me
look within myself, and gave me a greater sense of my
guilt, ingratitude, and misery.
" Tuesday, Oct. 2. Set out on my journey, in company
t Minister at a place called Rockcilicus, about forty miles from Mr
Brainerd's lodgings.

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A. D. 1744, 1745. MT. 27, 28.

351

with dear brother Byram, and my interpreter, and two
chief Indians from the Forks of Delaware. Travelled
about twenty-five miles, and lodged in one of the last
houses on our road ; after which there was nothing but a
hideous and howling wilderness.
" Wednesday, Oct. 3. We went on our way into the
wilderness, and found the most difficult and dangerous
travelling, by far, that ever any of us had seen ; we had scarce
any thing else but lofty mountains, deep valleys, and
hideous rocks, to make our way through. However, I felt
some sweetness in divine things, part of the day, and had
my mind intensely engaged in meditation on a divine sub
ject. Near night my beast that I rode upon hung one of
her legs in the rocks, and fell down under me; but
through divine goodness I was not hurt. However, she
broke her leg ; and being in such a hideous place, and near
thirty miles from any house, I saw nothing that could be
done to preserve her life, and so was obliged to kill her,
and to prosecute my journey on foot. This accident made
me admire the divine goodness to me, that my bones were
not broken, and the multitude of them filled with strong
pain. Just at dark we kindled a fire, cut up a few bushes
and made a shelter over our heads, to save us from the
frost, which was very hard that night ; and committing
ourselves to God by prayer, we lay down on the ground,
and slept quietly.''
The next day they went forward on their journey, and
at night took up their lodging in the woods in like
manner. " Friday, Oct. 5. We arrived at Susquehannah river,
at a place called Opeholhaupung :* found there twelve In
dian houses : after I had saluted the king in a friendly
manner, 1 told him my business, and that my desire was
to teach them Christianity. After some consultation, the
Indians gathered, and I preached to them. And when I
had done, I asked if they would hear me again. They
replied, that they would consider of it ; and soon after
sent me word, that they would immediately attend, if I
would preach : which I did, with freedom, both times.
When I asked them again, whether they would bear me
further, they replied, they would the next day. I was ex
ceeding sensible of the impossibility of doing any thing
for the poor heathen without special assistance from above :
and my soul seemed to rest on God, and leave it to him
to do as he pleased in that which I saw was his own
cause : and indeed, through divine goodness, I had felt
something of this frame most of the time while I was tra
velling thither, and in some measure before I set out.
" Saturday, Oct. 6. Rose early and besought the Lord
for help in my great work. Near noon preached again to
the Indians ; and in the afternoon visited them from house
to house, and invited them to come and hear me again the
next day, and put off their hunting design, which they
were just entering upon, till Monday. ' This night,' I
trust, ' the Lord stood by me,' to encourage and strengthen
my soul : I spent more than an hour in secret retirement ;
was enabled to ' pour out my heart before God,' for the
increase of grace in my soul, for ministerial endowments,
for success among the poor Indians, for God's ministers
and people, for distant dear friends, &c. Blessed be God !"
The next day he complains of great want of fixedness
and intenseness in religion, so lhat he could not keep any
spiritual thought one minute without distraction ; which
occasioned anguish of spirit. He felt amazingly guilty,
and extremely miserable ; and cries out, " Oh, my soul,
what death it is, to have the affections unable to centre in
God, by reason of darkness, and consequently roving after
that satisfaction elsewhere, that is only to be found here !"
However, he preached twice to the Indians with, some
freedom and power; but was afterwards damped by
the objections they made against Christianity. In the
evening, in a sense of his great defects in preaching, he
" entreated God not to impute to him blood-guiltiness ;"
but yet was at the same time enabled to rejoice in God.
" Monday, Oct. 8.- Visited the Indians with a design
to take my leave of them, supposing they would this
morning go out to hunting early ; but beyond my expect
ation and hope, they desired to hear me preach again. I
* See his Narrative addressed to Mr. Pemberton.

gladly complied with their request, and afterwards endea
voured to answer their objections against Christianity.
Then they went away ; and we spent the rest of the after
noon in reading and prayer, intending to go homeward
very early the next day. My soul was in some measure
refreshed in secret prayer and meditation. Blessed be the
Lord for' all his goodness.
" Tuesday, Oct. 9. We rose about four in the morning,
and commending ourselves to God by prayer, and asking
his special protection, we set out on our journey home
wards about five, and travelled with great steadiness till
past six at night ; and then made us a fire, and a shelter
of barks, and so rested. I had some clear and comfort
able thoughts on a divine subject, by the way, towards
night. — In the night the wolves howled around us ; but
God preserved us."
The next day they rose early, and set forward, and tra
velled that day till they came to an Irish settlement, with
which Mr. Brainerd was acquainted, and lodged there.
He speaks of some sweetness in divine things, and thank
fulness to God for his goodness to him in this journey,
though attended with shame for his barrenness. On
Thursday he continued in the same place ; and both he
and Mr. Byram preached there to the people.
"Friday, Oct. 12. Rode home to my lodgings ; where
I poured out my soul to God in secret prayer, and endea
voured to bless him for his abundant goodness to me in
my late journey. I scarce ever enjoyed more health, at
least, of later years ; and God marvellously, and almost
miraculously, supported me under the fatigues ofthe way,
and travelling on foot. Blessed be the Lord, who con
tinually preserves me in all my ways."
On Saturday he went again to the Irish settlement, to
spend the sabbath there, his Indians being gone.
" Lord's day, Oct. 14. Was much confused and per
plexed in my thoughts ; could not pray ; and was almost
discouraged, thinking I should never be able to preach
any more. Afterwards, God was pleased to give me some
relief- from these confusions; but still I was afraid, and
even trembled before God. I went to the place of public
worship, lifting up my heart to God for assistance and
grace in my great work : and God was gracious to me,
helping me to plead with him for holiness, and to use the
strongest arguments with him; drawn from tho incarna
tion and sufferings of Christ for this very end, that men
might be made holy. Afterwards I was much assisted in
preaching. I know not that ever God helped me to preach
in a more close and distinguishing manner for the trial of
men's state. Through the infinite goodness of God, I
felt what I spoke ; he enabled me to treat on divine truth
with uncommon clearness : and yet I was so sensible of
my defects in preaching, that I could not be proud of my
performance, as at some times ; and blessed be the Lord
for this mercy. In the evening I longed to be entirely
alone, to bless God for help in a time of extremity ; and
longed for great degrees of holiness, that I might show my
gratitude to God."
The next morning he spent some time before sun-rise in
prayer, in the same sweet and grateful frame of mind that
he had been in the evening before : and afterwards went
to his Indians, and spent some time in teaching and ex
horting them.
" Tuesday, Oct. 16. Felt a spirit of solemnity and
watchfulness ; was afraid I should not live to and upon
God : longed for more intenseness and spirituality. Spent
the day in writing ; frequently lifting up my heart to God
for more heavenly-mindedness. In the evening enjoyed
sweet assistance in prayer, and thirsted and pleaded to be
as holy as the blessed angels: longed for ministerial gifts
and graces, and success in my work : was sweetly assisted
in the duty of intercession, and enabled to remember and
plead for numbers of dear friends, and Christ's ministers."
He seemed to have much of the same frame of mind
the two next days.
" Friday, Oct. 19. Felt an abasing sense of my own im
purity and unholiness ; and felt my soul melt and mourn,
that I had abused and grieved a very gracious God, who
was still kind to me, notwithstanding all my unworthiness.

352

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

My soul enjoyed a sweet season of bitter repentance and
sorrow, that I had wronged that blessed God, who, I was
persuaded, was reconciled to me in his dear Son. My
soul was now tender, devout, and solemn. And I was
afraid of nothing but sin ; and afraid of that in every action
and thought."
The_/b_r next days were manifestly spent in a most con
stant tenderness, watchfulness, diligence, and self-diffidence.
But he complains of wanderings of mind, languor of affec
tions, &c.
" Wednesday, Oct. 24. Near noon, rode to my people ;
spent some time, and prayed with them : felt the frame of
a pilgrim on earth ; longed much to leave this gloomy
mansion ; but yet found the exercise of patience and re
signation. And as I returned home from the Indians, spent
the whole time in lifting up my heart to God. In the
evening enjoyed a blessed season alone in prayer ; was en
abled to cry to God with a child-like spirit, for the space
of near an hour ; enjoyed a sweet freedom in supplicating
for myself, for dear friends, ministers, and some who are
preparing for that work, and for the church of God ; and
longed to be as lively myself in God's service as the
angels. " Thursday, Oct. 25. Was busy in writing. Was very
sensible of my absolute dependence on God in all respects ;
saw that I could do nothing, even in those affairs that I
have sufficient natural faculties for, unless God should
smile upon my attempt. ' Not that we are sufficient of
ourselves, to think any thing as of ourselves,' I saw was a
sacred truth.
" Friday, Oct. 26. In the morning my soul was melt
ed with a sense of divine goodness and mercy to such a
vile unworthy worm. I delighted to lean upon God, and
place my whole trust in him. My soul was exceedingly
grieved for sin, and prized and longed after holiness ; it
wounded my heart deeply, yet sweetly, to think how I
had abused a kind God. I longed to be perfectly holy,
that I might not grieve a gracious God ; who will con
tinue to love, notwithstanding his love is abused ! I long
ed for holiness more for this end, than I did for my own
happiness' sake : and yet this was my greatest happiness,
never more to dishonour, but always to glorify, the blessed
God. Afterwards rode up to the Indians, in the after
noon, &c."
The four next days he was exercised with much disorder
and pain of body, with a degree of melancholy and gloomi
ness of mind, bitterly complaining of deadness and unpro
fitableness, yet mourning and longing after God.
" Wednesday, Oct. 31. Was sensible of my barrenness
and decays in the things of God : my soul failed when I
remembered the fervency I had enjoyed at the throne of
grace. Oh, I thought, if I could but be spiritual, warm,
heavenly-minded, and affectionately breathing after God,
this would be better than life to me ! My soul longed
exceedingly for death, to be loosed from this dulness and
barrenness, and made for ever active in the service of God.
I seemed to live for nothing, and to do no good : and oh,
the burden of such a life ! Oh, death, death, my kind
friend, hasten, and deliver me from dull mortality, and
make me spiritual and vigorous to eternity !
" Thursday, Nov. 1. Had but little sweetness in divine
things ; but afterwards, in the evening, felt some life, and
longings after God. I longed to be always solemn, de
vout, and heavenly-minded ; and was afraid to leave off
praying, lest I should again lose a sense of the sweet things
of God.
" Friday, Nov. 2. Was filled with sorrow and confu
sion in the morning, and could enjoy no sweet sense of
divine things, nor get any relief in prayer. Saw I deserved
that every one of God's creatures should be let loose, to be
the executioners of his wrath against me ; and yet therein
saw I deserved what I did not fear as my portion. About
noon rode up to the Indians ; and while going could feel
no desires for them, and even dreaded to say any thing to
them ; but God was pleased to give me some freedom and
enlargement, and made the season comfortable to me. In
the evening had enlargement in prayer. But, alas ! what
comforts and enlargements I have felt for these many weeks
• On this day he concluded his Narrative addressed to Mr. Pemberton,

past, have been only transient and short ; and the greater
part of my time has been filled up with deadness, or
struggles with deadness, and bitter conflicts with corrup
tion. I have found myself exercised sorely with some
particular things that I thought myself most of all freed
from. And thus 1 have ever found it, when I have thought
the battle was over, and the conquest gained, and so let
down my watch, the enemy has risen up and done me the
greatest injury.
" Saturday, Nov. 3. I read the life and trials of a godly
man, and was much warmed by it : I wondered at my past
deadness ; and was more convinced of it than ever. Was
enabled to confess and bewail my sin before God, with
self-abhorrence. " Lord's day, Nov. 4. Had, I think, some exercise of
faith in prayer in the morning: longed to be spiritual.
Had considerable help in preaching to my poor Indians :
was encouraged with them, and hoped that God designed
mercy for them."
The next day* he set out on a journey to New York, to
the meeting of the Presbytery there ; and was from home
more than a fortnight. He seemed to enter on his journey
with great reluctance; fearing that the diversions of it
would prove a means of cooling his religious affections, as
he had found in other journeys. But yet in this journey
he had some special seasons wherein he enjoyed extraordi
nary evidences and fruits of God's gracious presence. He
was greatly fatigued, and exposed to cold and storms : and
when he returned from New York to New Jersey, on
Friday, was taken very ill, and was detained by his illness
some time.
" Wednesday, Nov. 21. Rode from Newark to Rockci-
ticus in the cold, and was almost overcome with it. En
joyed some sweetness in conversation with dear Mr. Jones,
while I dined with him : my soul loves the people of God,
and especially the ministers of Jesus Christ, who feel the
same trials that I do.
" Thursday, Nov. 22. Came on my way from Rock-
citicus to Delaware river. Was very much disordered
with a cold and pain in my head. About six at night I
lost my way in the wilderness, and wandered over rocks
and mountains, down hideous steeps, through swamps,
and most dreadful and dangerous places ; and the night
being dark, so that few stars could be seen, I was greatly
exposed. I was much pinched with cold, and distressed .
with an extreme pain in my head, attended with sickness
at my stomach ; so that every step I took was distressing
to me. I had little hope for several hours together, but
that I must lie out in the woods all night, in this distress
ed case. But about nine o'clock I found a house, through
the abundant goodness of God, and was kindly entertained.
Thus I have frequently been exposed, and sometimes lain
out the whole night ; but God has hitherto preserved me ;
and blessed be his name. Such fatigues and hardships as
these serve to wean me more from the earth ; and, I trust,
will make heaven the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus
exposed to cold, rain, &c. I was ready to please myself
with the thoughts of enjoying a comfortable house, a warm
fire, and other outward comforts ; but now these have less
place in my heart, (through the grace of God,) and my eye is
more to God for comfort. In this world I expect tribula
tion ; and it does not now, as formerly, appear strange to
me. I do not in such seasons of difficulty flatter myself
that it will be better hereafter; but rather think, how much
worse it might be ; how much greater trials others of God's
children have endured ; and how much greater are yet per
haps reserved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the
thoughts of my journey's end and of my dissolution a great
comfort to me, under my sharpest trials ; and scarce ever
lets these thoughts be attended with terror or melancholy ;
but they are attended frequently with great joy.
" Friday, Nov. 23. Visited a sick man; discoursed
and prayed with him. Then visited another house, where
was one dead and laid out ; looked on the corpse, and
longed that my lime might come to depart, that I might
be with Christ. Then went home to my lodgings, about
one o'clock. Felt poorly ; but was able to read most of
the afternoon."

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A. D. 1744, 1745. MT. 27, 28.

353

Within the space of the next twelve days he passed
under many changes in the frames and exercises of his
mind. He had many seasons of the special influences of
God's Spirit, animating, invigorating, and comforting him
in the ways of God and the duties of religion : but had
some turns of great dejection and melancholy. He spent
much time, within this space, in hard labour, with others,
to make for himself a little cottage or hut, to live in by
himself through the winter. Yet he frequently preached
to the Indians, and speaks of special assistance he had
from time to time, in addressing himself to them ; and of
his sometimes having considerable encouragement, from
the attention they gave. But on Tuesday, December 4,
he was sunk into great discouragement, to see most of
them going in company to an idolatrous feast and dance,
after he had taken abundant pains to dissuade them from
these things.
" Thursday, Dec. 6. Having now a happy opportunity
of being retired in a house of my own, which I nave lately
procured and moved into, and considering that it is now a
long time since I have been able, either on account of
bodily weakness, or for want of retirement, or some other
difficulty, to spend any time in secret fasting and prayer;
considering also the greatness of my work, and the extreme
difficulties that attend it ; and that my poor Indians are
now worshipping devils, notwithstanding all the pains I
have taken with them, which almost overwhelms my spirit ;
moreover, considering my extreme barrenness, spiritual
deadness and dejection, of late ; as also the power of some
particular corruptions ; I set apart this day for secret prayer
and fasting, to implore the blessing of God on myself, on
my poor people, on my friends, and on the church of God.
At first I felt a great backwardness to the duties of the
day, on account of the seeming impossibility of performing
them ; but the Lord helped me to break through this diffi
culty. God was pleased, by the use of means, to give me
some clear conviction of my sinfulness, and a discovery of
the plague qf my own heart, more affecting than what I
have of late had. And especially I saw my sinfulness in
this, that when God had withdrawn himself, then, instead
of living and dying in pursuit of him, I have been disposed
to one of these two things ; either, first , to yield an unbe
coming respect to some earthly objects, as if happiness
were to be derived from them ; or, secondly, to be secretly
froward and impatient, and unsuitably desirous of death,
so that I have sometimes thought I could not bear to think
my life must be lengthened out. And that which often
drove me to this impatient desire of death, was a despair
of doing any good in life ; and I chose death, rather than
a life spent for nothing. But now God made me sensible
of my sin in these things, and enabled me to cry to him
for forgiveness. Yet this was not all I wanted ; for my
soul appeared exceedingly polluted, my heart seemed like
a nest of vipers, or a cage of unclean and hateful birds :
and therefore I wanted to be purified ' by the blood of
sprinkling, that cleanseth from all sin.' And this, I hope,
I was enabled to pray for in faith. I enjoyed much more
intenseness, fervency, and spirituality, than I expected ;
God was better to me than my fears. And towards night
I felt my soul rejoice, that God is unchangeably happy
and glorious ; that he will be glorified, whatever becomes
of his creatures. I was enabled to persevere in prayer till
some time in the evening ; at which time I saw so much
need of divine help, in every respect, that I knew not how
to leave off, and had forgot that I needed food. This
evening I was much assisted in meditating on Isa. Iii. 3.
' For thus saith the Lord, Ye have sold yourselves for
nought,' &c. Blessed be the Lord for any help in the past
day. " Friday, Dec. 7. Spent some time in prayer, in the
morning ; enjoyed some freedom and affection in the duty,
and had longing desires of being made ' faithful to the
death.' Spent a little time in writing on a divine subject :
then visited the Indians, and preached to them ; but under
inexpressible dejection. I had no heart to speak to them,
and could not do it but as I forced myself : I knew they
must hate to hear me, as having but just got home from
their idolatrous feast and devil-worship. — In the evening
had some freedom in praverand meditation.
" Saturday, Dec. 8. Have been uncommonly free this
VOL. ii. 2 a

day from dejection, and from that distressing apprehension,
that I could do nothing : was enabled to pray and study
with some comfort; and especially was assisted in writing
on a divine subject. In the evening my soul rejoiced in
God ; and I blessed his name for shining on my soul. O
the sweet and blessed change I then felt, when God
' brought me out of darkness into his marvellous light!'
" Lord's day, Dec. 9. Preached, both parts of the day,
at a place called Greenwich, in New Jersey, about ten
miles from my own house. In the first discourse I had
scarce any warmth or affectionate longing for souls. In
the intermediate season I got alone among the bushes, and
cried to God for pardon of my deadness ; and was in an
guish and bitterness, that I could not address souls with
more compassion and tender affection. I judged and con
demned myself for want of this divine temper; though I
saw I could not get it as of myself, any more than I could
make a world. In the latter exercise, blessed be the Lord,
I had some fervency, both in prayer and preaching ; and
especially in the application of my discourse, I was en
abled to address precious souls with affection, concern,
tenderness, and importunity. The Spirit of God, I think,
was there; as the effects were apparent, tears running
down many cheeks.
" Monday, Dec. 10. Near noon I pneached again : God
gave me some assistance, and enabled me to be in some
degree faithful ; so that I had peace in my own soul, and
a very comfortable composure, ' although Israel should
not be gathered.' Came away from Greenwich, and rode
home ; arrived just in the evening. By the way my soul
blessed God for his goodness; and I rejoiced, that so
much of my work was done, and I so much nearer my
blessed reward. Blessed be God for grace to be faithful.
" Tuesday, Dec. 11. Felt very poorly in body, being
much tired and worn out the last night. Was assisted in
some measure in writing on a divine subject : but was so
feeble and sore in my breast, that I had not much resolu
tion in my work. Oh, how I long for that world ' where
the weary are at rest !' and yet through the goodness of
God I do not now feel impatient.
"Wednesday, Dec. 12. Was again very weak; but
somewhat assisted in secret prayer, and enabled with
pleasure and sweetness to cry, ' Come, Lord Jesus !
come, Lord Jesus ! come quickly.' My soul ' longed
for God, for the living God.' O how delightful it is, to
pray under such sweet influences ! Oh how much better
is this, than one's necessary food ! I had at this time no
disposition to eat, (though late in the morning,) for earthly
food appeared wholly tasteless. O how much ' better is
thy love than wine,' than the sweetest wine ! — I visited
and preached to the Indians in the afternoon ; but under
much dejection. Found my interpreter under some con
cern for his soul ; which was some comfort to me ; and
yet filled me with new care. I longed greatly for his con
version ; lifted up my heart to God for it, while I was
talking to him ; came home, and poured out my soul to
God for him : enjoyed some freedom in prayer, and was
enabled, I think, to leave all with God.
" Thursday, Dec. 13. Endeavoured to spend the day in
fasting and prayer, to implore the divine blessing, more
especially on my poor people ; and in particular, I sought
for converting grace for my interpreter, and three or four
more under some concern for their souls. I was much
disordered in the morning when I arose ; but having de
termined to spend the day in this manner, I attempted it.
Some freedom I had in pleading for these poor concerned
souls, several times; and when interceding for them, I
enjoyed greater freedom from wandering and distracting
thoughts, than in any part of my supplications. But, in
the general, I was greatly exercised with wanderings ; so
that in the evening it seemed as if I had need to pray for
nothing so much as for the pardon of sins committed in
the day past, and the vileness I then found in myself.
The sins I had most sense of, were pride, and wandering
thoughts, whereby I mocked God. The former of these
cursed iniquities excited me to think of writing, preaching,
or converting heathens, or performing some other great
work, that my, name might live when I should be dead.
My soul was in anguish, and ready to drop into despair, to
find so much of that cursed temper. With this, and the

354

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

other evil 1 laboured under, viz. wandering thoughts, I
was almost overwhelmed, and even ready to give over
striving after a spirit of devotion; and oftentimes sunk
into a considerable degree of despondency, and thought I
was ' more brutish than any man.' Yet after all my sor
rows, I trust, through grace, this day and the exercises of
it have been for my good, and taught me more of my cor
ruption, and weakness without Christ, than I knew before.
" Friday, Dec. 14. Near noon went to the Indians;
but knew not what to say to them, and was ashamed to
look them in the face : I felt I had no power to address
their consciences, and therefore had no boldness to say
any thing. Was, much of the day, in a great degree of
despair about ever ' doing or seeing any good in the land
of the living.' "
He continued under the same dejection the next day.
" Lord's day, Dec. 16. Was so overwhelmed with de
jection, that I knew not how to live. I longed for death
exceedingly : my soul was sunk into deep waters, and the
floods were ready to drown me. I was so much oppressed,
that my soul was in a kind of horror : could not keep my
thoughts fixed in prayer, for the space of one minute,
without fluttering and distraction ; and was exceedingly
ashamed that 1 did not live to God. I had no distressing
doubt about my own state ; but would have cheerfully
ventured (as far as I could possibly know) into eternity.
While I was going to preach to the Indians, my soul was
in anguish ; I was so overborne with discouragement, that
I despaired of doing any good, and was driven to my
wit's end ; I knew nothing what to say, nor what course
to take. But at last I insisted on the evidence we have
of the truth of Christianity from the miracles of Christ ;
many of which I set before them : and God helped me to
make a close application to those who refused to believe
the truth of what I taught them. Indeed I was enabled
to speak to the consciences of all, in some measure, and
was somewhat encouraged to find, that God enabled me
to be faithful once more. Then came and preached to
another company of them ; but was very weary and faint.
In the evening I was refreshed, and enabled to pray, and
praise God with composure and affection : had some en
largement and courage with respect lo my work : was
willing to live, and longed to do more for God than my
weak state of body would admit of. ' I can do all things
through Christ that strengthens me ;' and by his grace, I
am willing to spend and be spent in his service, when I
am not thus sunk in dejection, and a kind of despair.
" Monday, Dec. 17. Was comfortable in mind most
of the day ; and was enabled to pray with some freedom,
cheerfulness, composure, and devotion; had also some
assistance in writing on a divine subject.
" Tuesday, Dec. 18. Went to the Indians, and dis
coursed to them near an hour, without any power to come
close to their hearts. But at last I felt some fervency, and
God helped me to speak with warmth. My interpreter
also was amazingly assisted ; and I doubt not but ' the
Spirit of God was upon him;' (though I had no reason to
think he had any true and saving grace, but was only under
conviction of his lost state;) and presently upon this most
of the grown persons were much affected, and the tears
ran down their cheeks ; and one old man (I suppose, a
hundred years old) was so affected, that he wept, and
seemed convinced of the importance of what I taught
them. I staid with them a considerable time, exhorting
and directing them ; and came away, lifting up my heart
to God in prayer and praise, and encouraged and exhorted
my interpreter to ' strive to enter in at the strait gate.'
Came home, and spent most of the evening in prayer and
thanksgiving; and found myself much enlarged and
quickened. Was greatly concerned that the Lord's work,
which seemed to be begun, might be carried on with
power, to the conversion of poor souls, and the glory of
divine grace.
" Wednesday, Dec. 19. Spent a great part of the day
in prayer to God for the outpouring qf his Spirit on my
poor people ; as also to bless his name for awakening my
interpreter and some others, and giving us some tokens of
his presence yesterday. And, blessed be God, I had much
* This day he wrote the ffth letter among his Remains.

freedom, five or six times in the day, in prayer and praise,
and felt a weighty concern upon my spirit for the salva
tion of those precious souls, and the enlargement of the
Redeemer's kingdom among them. My soul hoped in
God for some success in my ministry : and blessed be his
name for so much hope.
" Thursday, Dec. 20. Was enabled to visit the throne
of grace frequently this day ; and through divine good
ness enjoyed much freedom and fervency sundry times :
was much assisted in crying for mercy for my poor people,
and felt cheerfulness and nope in my requests for them.
I spent much of the day in writing ; but was enabled to
intermix prayer with my studies.
" Friday, Dec. 21. Was enabled again to pray with
freedom, cheerfulness, and hope. God was pleased to
make the duty comfortable and pleasant to me ; so that I
delighted to persevere, and repeatedly to engage in it.
Towards noon visited my people, and spent the whole
time in the way to them in prayer, longing to see the power
qf God among them, as there appeared something of it
the last Tuesday ; and I found it sweet to rest and hope
in God. Preached to them twice, and at two distinct
places : had considerable freedom each time, and so had
my interpreter. Several of them followed me from one
place to the other : and I thought there was some divine
influence discernible amongst them. In the evening, was
assisted in prayer again. Blessed be the Lord."
Very much the same things are expressed concerning
his inward frame, exercises, and assistances on Saturday,
as on the preceding days. He observes, that this was a
comfortable week to him. But then concludes, " Oh that
I had no reason to complain of much barrenness ! Oh that
there were no vain thoughts and evil affections lodging
within me ! The Lord knows how I long for that world,
where they rest not day nor night, saying, Holy, holy, holy is
the Lord God Almighty," Sfc. On the following Sabbath, he
speaks of assistance and freedom in his public work, but
as having less of the sensible presence of God, than fre
quently in the week past ; but yet says, his soul was kept
from sinking in discouragement. On Monday again he
seemed to enjoy very much the same liberty and fervency,
through the day, that he enjoyed through the greater part of
the preceding week.*
" Tuesday, Dec. 25. Enjoyed very little quiet sleep
last night, by reason of bodily weakness, and the close
ness of my studies yesterday ; yet my heart was somewhat
lively in prayer and praise ; I was delighted with the divine
glory and happiness, and rejoiced that God was God, and
that he was unchangeably possessed of glory and blessed
ness. Though God held my eyes waking, yet he helped
me to improve my time profitably amidst my pains and
weakness, in continued meditations on Luke xiii. 7. ' Be
hold, these three years I come seeking fruit,' &c. My
meditations were sweet ; and I wanted to set before sinners
their sin and danger."
He continued in a very low state, as to his bodily
health, for some days ; which seems to have been a great
hinderance to him in his religious exercises and pursuits.
But yet he expresses some degree of divine assistance,
from day to day, through the remaining part of this week.
He preached several times this week to his Indians ; and
there appeared still some concern amongst them for their
souls. On Saturday he rode to the Irish settlement,
about fifteen miles from his lodgings, in order to spend
the sabbath there.
" Lord's day, Dec. 30. Discoursed, both parts of the
day, from Mark viii. 34. ' Whosoever will come after me,'
&c. God gave me very great freedom and clearness, and
(in the afternoon especially) considerable warmth and
fervency. In the evening also had very great clearness
while conversing with friends on divine things : I do not
remember ever to have had more clear apprehensions of
religion in my life : but found a struggle, in the evening,
with spiritual pride."
On Monday he preached again in the same place with
freedom and fervency ; and- rode home to his lodging,
and arrived in the. evening, under a considerable degree of
bodily illness, which continued the two next days. And he

Part VI.

A. D. 1744, 1745. MT. 27, 28.

365

complains much of spiritual emptiness and barrenness on
those days.
" Thursday, Jan. 3, 1745. Being sensible of the great
want of divine influences, and the outpouring of God's
Spirit, I spent this day in fasting and prayer, to seek so
great a mercy for myself, my poor people in particular,
and the church of God in general. In the morning was
very lifeless in prayer, and could get scarce any sense of
God. Near noon enjoyed some sweet freedom to pray
that the will qf God might in every respect become mine;
and I am persuaded it was so at that time in some good
degree. In the afternoon, I was exceeding weak, and
could not enjoy much fervency in prayer ; but felt a great
degree of dejection ; which, I believe, was very much owing
to my bodily weakness and disorder.
" Friday, Jan. 4. Rode up to the Indians near noon ;
spent some time under great disorder : my soul was sunk
down into deep waters, and I was almost overwhelmed with
melancholy. "Saturday, Jan. 5. Was able to do something at writing;
but was much disordered with pain in my head. At night
was distressed with a sense of my spiritual pollution, and
ten thousand youthful, yea, and childish follies, that no
body but myself had any thought about ; all which ap
peared to me now fresh, and in a lively view, as if com
mitted yesterday, and made my soul ashamed before God,
and caused me to hate myself.
'* Lord's day, Jan. 6. Was still distressed with vapoury
disorders. Preached to my poor Indians : but had little
heart or life. Towards night my soul was pressed under
a sense of my unfaithfulness. 0 the joy and peace that
arises from a sense of ' having obtained mercy of God to
be faithful !' And oh the misery and anguish that spring
from an apprehension of the contrary ! "
His dejection continued the two next days ; but not to
so great a degree on Tuesday, when he enjoyed some free
dom and fervency in preaching to the Indians.
" Wednesday, Jan. 9. In the morning God was pleased
to remove that gloom which has of late oppressed my mind,
and gave me freedom and sweetness in prayer. I was
encouraged, strengthened, and enabled to plead for grace for
myself, and mercy for my poor Indians ; and was sweetly
assisted in my intercessions with God for others.. Bless
ed be his holy name for ever and ever. Amen, and Amen.
Those things that of late appeared most difficult and
almost impossible, now appeared not only possible, but
easy. My soul so much delighted to continue instant in
prayer, at this blessed season, that I had no desire for
my necessary food : even dreaded leaving off praying at all,
lest I should lose this spirituality, and this blessed thank
fulness to God which I then felt. I felt now quite willing to
live, and undergo all trials that might remain for me in a
world of sorrow : but still longed for heaven, that I might
glorify God in a perfect manner. O ' come, Lord Jesus,
come quickly.' Spent the day in reading a little ; and in
some diversions, which I was necessitated to take by reason
of much weakness and disorder. In the evening enjoyed
some freedom and intenseness in prayer."
The three remaining days qf the week he was very low
and feeble in body ; but nevertheless continued constantly
in the same comfortable sweet frame of mind, as is ex
pressed on Wednesday. On the sabbath this sweetness
in spiritual alacrity began to abate; but still he enjoyed
some degree of comfort, and had assistance in preaching to
the Indians.
" Monday, Jan. 14. Spent this day under a great de
gree of bodily weakness and disorder ; and had very little
freedom, either in my studies or devotions ; and in the
evening, I was much dejected and melancholy. It pains
and distresses me, that I live so much of my time
for nothing. I long to do much in a little time, and if it
might be the Lord's will, to finish my work speedily in this
tiresome world. I am sure I do not desire to live for any
thing in this world ; and through grace I am not afraid to
look the king qf terrors in the face. I know I shall be
afraid, if God leaves me ; and therefore I think it always
my duty to lay in for that solemn hour. But for a very
considerable time past, my soul' has rejoiced to think of
* Though Mr. Brainerd now dwelt by himself in the forementioned little
cottage, which he had built for his own use ; yet that was near to a family
2 A2

death in its nearest approaches ; and even when I have
been very weak, and seemed nearest eternity. ' Not unto
me, not unto me, but to God be the glory.' I feel that
which convinces me, that if God do not enable me to
maintain a holy dependence upon him, death will easily
be a terror to me ; but at present, I must say, ' I long to
depart, and to be with Christ,' which is the best of all.
When I am in a sweet resigned frame of soul, I am will
ing to tarry awhile in a world of sorrow, I am willing to be
from home as long as God sees fit it should be so ; but when
I want the influence of this temper, I am then apt to be im
patient to be gone. — Oh when will the day appear, that I
shall be perfect in holiness, and in the enjoyment of God ! "
The next day was spent under a great degree of de
jection and melancholy ; which (as he himself was per
suaded) was owing partly to bodily weakness, and vapoury
disorders. «
" Wednesday and Thursday, Jan. 16 and 17. I spent
most of the time in writing on a sweet divine subject, and
enjoyed some freedom and assistance. Was likewise en
abled to pray more frequently and fervently than usual :
and my soul, I think, rejoiced in God ; especially on the
evening of the last of these days : praise then seemed
comely, and I delighted to bless the Lord. O what reason
have I to be thankful, that God ever helps me to labour
and study for him ! he does but receive his own, when I am
enabled in any measure to praise him, labour for him, and
live to him. Oh, how comfortable and sweet it is, to feel
the assistance of divine grace in the performance of the
duties God has enjoined us ! Bless the Lord, 0 my soul."
The same enlargement of heart, and joyful frame of soul,
continued through the next day. But on the day follow
ing it began to decline ; which decay seems to nave con
tinued the whole of the next week : yet he enjoyed some
seasons of special and sweet assistance.
" Lord's day, Jan. 27. Had the greatest degree of in
ward anguish that almost ever I endured. I was perfect
ly overwhelmed, and so confused, that after I began to
discourse to the Indians, before I could finish a sentence,
sometimes I forgot entirely what I was aiming at; or if,
with much difficulty, I had recollected what I had before
designed, still it appeared strange, and like something I
had long forgotten, and had now but an imperfect remem
brance of. I know it was a degree of distraction, oc
casioned by vapoury disorders, melancholy, spiritual de
sertion, and some other things that particularly pressed
upon me this morning, with an uncommon weight, the
principal of which respected my Indians. This distress
ing gloom never went off the whole day ; but was so far
removed, that I was enabled to speak with some freedom
and concern to the Indians, at two of their settlements ;
and I think there was some appearance of the presence of
God with us, some seriousness, and seeming concern
among the Indians, at least a few of them. In the even
ing this gloom continued still, till family prayer,* about
nine o'clock, and almost through this, until I came near
the close, when I was praying (as I usually do) for the
illumination and conversion of my poor people ; and then
the cloud was scattered, so that I enjoyed sweetness and
freedom, and conceived hopes that God designed mercy
for some of them. The same I enjoyed afterwards in
secret prayer ; in which precious duty I had for a con
siderable time sweetness and freedom, and (I hope) faith,
in praying for myself, my poor Indians, and dear friends
and acquaintance in New England, and elsewhere, and for
the dear interest of Zion in general. Bless the Lord, 0
my soul, and forget not all his benefits."
He spent the rest qf this week, or at least the most of it,
under dejection and melancholy ; which on Friday rose
to an extreme height; he being then, as he himself ob
serves, much exercised with vapoury disorders. This ex
ceeding gloominess continued on Saturday, till the even
ing, when he was again relieved in family prayer ; and
after it was refreshed in secret, and felt willing to live, and
endure hardships in the cause of God; and found his
hopes of the advancement of Christ's kingdom, as also his
hopes to see the power qf God among the poor Indians,
considerably raised.
of white people with whom he had lived before, and with whom lie still
attended family prayer.

356

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

" Lord's day, Feb. 3. In the morning I was somewhat
relieved of that gloom and confusion that my mind has of
late been greatly exercised with : was enabled to pray with
some composure and comfort. But, however, went to my
Indians trembling; for my soul ' remembered the worm
wood and the gall' (I might almost say the hell) of Friday
last ; and I was greatly afraid I should be obliged again
to drink of that cup of trembling, which was inconceivably
more bitter than death, and made me long for the grave
more, unspeakably more, than for hid treasures, yea, in
conceivably more than the men of this world long for such
treasures. But God was pleased to hear my cries, and to
afford me great assistance ; so that I felt peace in my own
soul ; and was satisfied, that if not one of the Indians
should be profited by my preaching, but should all be
damned, yet I should be accepted and rewarded as faith
ful ; for I am persuaded God enabled me to be so. 
Had some good degree of help afterwards, at another place;
and much longed for the conversion of the poor Indians.
Was somewhat refreshed, and comfortable, towards night,
and in the evening. O that my soul might praise the Lord
for his goodness !  Enjoyed some freedom in the even
ing, in meditation on Luke xiii. 24. ' Strive to enter in
at the strait gate,' &c."
In the three next days he was the subject of much de
jection ; but the three remaining days of the week seem to
have been spent with much composure and comfort. On
the next sabbath he preached at Greenwich in New
Jersey. In the evening he rode eight miles to visit a sick
man at the point of death, and found him speechless and
senseless. " Monday, Feb. 11. About break of day the sick man
died. I was affected at the sight : spent the morning with
the mourners : and after prayer, and some discourse with
them, 1 returned to Greenwich, and preached again from
Psal. lxxxix. 15. 'Blessed is the people that know,' &c.
and the Lord gave me assistance ; I felt a sweet love to
souls, and to the kingdom of Christ; and longed that
poor sinners might know the joyful sound. Several per
sons were much affected. And after meeting I was en
abled to discourse with freedom and concern, to some per
sons that applied to me under spiritual trouble. Left the
place, sweetly composed, and rode home to my house
about eight miles distant. Discoursed to friends, and in
culcated divine truths upon some. In the evening was
in the most solemn frame that almost I ever remember to
have experienced : I know not that ever death appeared
more real to me, or that ever I saw myself in the condi
tion of a dead corpse, laid out, and dressed for a lodging
in the silent grave, so evidently as at this time. And yet
I felt exceeding comfortably; my mind was composed
and calm, and death appeared without a sting. I think I
never felt such an universal mortification to all created ob
jects as now. Oh, how great and solemn a thing it ap
peared to die ! Oh, how it lays the greatest honour in
the dust ! And oh, how vain and trifling did the riches,
honours, and pleasures of the world appear ! I could not,
I dare not, so much as think of any of them ; for death,
death, solemn (though not frightful) death appeared at the
door. Oh, I could see myself dead, and laid out, and en
closed in my coffin, and put down into the cold grave,
with the greatest solemnity, but without terror ! I spent
most of the evening in conversing with a dear christian
friend ; and, blessed be God, it was a comfortable even
ing to us both.  What are friends ? What are comforts ?
What are sorrows ? What are distresses ? — ' The time is
short: it remains, that they which weep be as though
they wept not; and they which rejoice, as though they re
joiced not : for the fashion of this world passeth away. O
come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.'  Blessed be
God for the comforts of the past day.
" Tuesday, Feb. 12. Was exceeding weak; but in a
sweet, resigned, composed frame, most of the day : felt
my heart freely go forth after God in prayer.
" Wednesday, Feb. 13. Was much exercised with va
poury disorders ; but still enabled to maintain solemnity,
and, I think, spirituality.
" Thursday, Feb. 14. Spent the day in writing on a
divine subject : enjoyed health, and freedom in my work;
had a solemn sense of death ; as I have indeed had every

day this week, in some measure : what 1 felt on Monday
last has been abiding, in some considerable degree, ever
since. " Friday, Feb. 15. Was engaged in writing again al
most the whole day. In the evening was much assisted
in meditating on that precious text, John vii. 37. ' Jesus
stood and cried,' &c. I had then a sweet sense of the
free grace of the gospel ; my soul was encouraged, warm
ed, and quickened. My desires were drawn out after
God in prayer; and my soul was watchful, afraid of
losing so sweet a guest as I then entertained. I con
tinued long in prayer and meditation, intermixing one
with the other; and was unwilling to be diverted by any
thing at all from so sweet an exercise. I longed to pro
claim the grace I then meditated upon, to the world of
sinners. — O how quick and powerful is the word of the
blessed God !"
The next day he complains of great conflicts with cor
ruption, and much discomposure of mind.
" Lord's day, Feb. 1 7. Preached to the white people
(my interpreter being absent) in the wilderness upon the
sunny side of a hill : had a considerable assembly, con
sisting of people who lived (at least many of them) not
less than thirty miles asunder; some of them came near
twenty miles. I discoursed to them, all day, from John
vii. 37. ' Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man
thirst,' &c. In the afternoon it pleased God to grant me
great freedom and fervency in my discourse ; and I was
enabled to imitate the example of Christ in the text, who
stood and cried.— I think I was scarce ever enabled to
offer the free grace of God to perishing sinners with more.
freedom and plainness in my life. And afterwards I was
enabled earnestly to invite the children of God to come
renewedly, and drink of this fountain of water of life, from
whence they have heretofore derived unspeakable satis
faction. It was a very comfortable time to me. There.
were many tears in the assembly ; and I doubt not but
that the Spirit of God was there, convincing poor sinners
of their need of Christ. In the evening I felt composed,
and comfortable, though much tired. I had some sweet
sense of the excellency and glory of God ; and my soul
rejoiced, that he was 'God over all, blessed for ever;7
but was too much crowded with company and conversa
tion, and longed to be more alone with God. Oh that I
could for ever bless God for the mercy of this day, who
' answered me in the joy of my heart.' "
The remainder qf this week seems to have been spent
under a decay of this life and joy, and in distressing con
flicts with corruption ; but not without some seasons of
refreshment and comfort.
" Lord's day, Feb. 24. In the morning was much per
plexed : my interpreter being absent, I knew not how to
perform my work among the Indians. However, I rode
to them, got a Dutchman to interpret for me, though he
was but poorly qualified for the business. Afterwards I
came and preached to a few white people from John vi.
67. 'Then said Jesus unto the twelve,' &c. Here the
Lord seemed to unburden me in some measure, especially
towards the close of my discourse : I felt freedom to open
the love qf Christ to his own dear disciples. When the
rest of the world forsakes him, and are forsaken by him,
that he calls them no more, he then turn's to his own, and
says, Will ye also go away ? I had a sense of the free
grace of Christ to his own people, in such seasons of
general apostacy, and when they themselves in some
measure backslide with the world. O the free grace of
Christ, that he seasonably reminds his people of their
danger of backsliding, and invites them to persevere in
their adherence to himself! I saw that backsliding souls,
who seemed to be about to go away with the world, might
return, and welcome, to him ¦ immediately ; without any
thing to recommend them; notwithstanding all their
former backslidings. And thus my discourse was suited
to my own soul's case : for, of late, I have found a great
want of this sense and apprehension of divine grace ; and
have often been greatly distressed in my own soul, because
I did not suitably apprehend this ' fountain to purge away
sin ;' and to have been too much labouring for spiritual
life, p=ace of conscience, and progressive holiness, in my
own strength : but now God showed me, in some measure,

Part VI.

A. D. 1744, 1745. MT. 27, 28.

357

the arm of all strength, and the fountain of all grace. — In
the evening I felt solemn, devout, and sweet, resting on free
grace for assistance, acceptance, and peace of conscience."
Within the space of the next nine days he had frequent
refreshing, invigorating influences of God's Spirit; at
tended with complaints of dulness, and with longings after
spiritual life and holy fervency.
" Wednesday, March 6. Spent most ofthe day in pre
paring for a journey to New England. Spent some time
in prayer, with a special reference to my intended journey.
Was afraid I should forsake the fountain of living- waters,
and attempt to derive satisfaction from broken cisterns, my
dear friends and acquaintance, with whom I might meet
in my journey. I looked to God to keep me from this
vanity, as well as others. Towards night, and in the even
ing, was visited by some friends, some of whom, I trust,
were real Christians ; who discovered an affectionate re
gard to me, and seemed grieved that I was about to leave
them ; especially seeing I did not expect to make any
considerable stay among them, if I should live to return
from New England.* 0 how kind has God been to me !
how has he raised up friends in every place, where his
providence has called me ! Friends are a great comfort ;
and it is God that gives them ; it is he makes them friendly
to me. ' Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all
his benefits.' "
The next day he set out on his journey ; and it was
about five weeks before he returned. — The special design
of this journey, he himself declares afterwards, in his diary
for March 21, where, speaking of his conversing with a
certain minister in New England, he says, " Contrived
with him how to raise some money among christian friends,
in order to support a colleague with me in the wilderness,
(I having now spent two years in a very solitary manner,)
that we might be together ; as Christ sent out his disciples
two and two : and as this was the principal concern I had
in view, in taking this journey, so I took pains in it, and
hope God will succeed it, if for his glory." He first went
into various parts of New Jersey, and visited several minis
ters there : then went to New York ; and from thence into
New England, going to various parts of Connecticut. He
then returned into New Jersey ; and met a number of
ministers at Woodbridge, " who," he says, " met there to
consult about the affairs of Christ's kingdom, in some im
portant articles." He seems, for the most part, to have
been free from melancholy in this journey ; and many
times to have had extraordinary assistance in public
ministrations, and his preaching sometimes attended with
very hopeful appearances of a good effect on the auditory.
He also had many seasons of special comfort and spiritual
refreshment, in conversation with ministers and other
christian friends, and also in meditation and prayer when
alone. " Saturday, April 13. Rode home to my own house at
the Forks of Delaware : was enabled to remember the
goodness of the Lord, who has now preserved me while
riding full six hundred miles in this journey ; has kept me
that none of my bones have been broken. Blessed be the
Lord, who has preserved me in this tedious journey, and
returned me in safety to my own house. Verily it is God
that has upheld me, and guarded my goings.
" Lord's day, April 14. Was disordered in body with the
fatigues of my late journey ; but was enabled however to
preach to a considerable assembly of white people, gather
ed from all parts round about, with some freedom, from
Ezek. xxxiii. 11. 'As I live, saith the Lord God,' &c.
Had much more assistance than I expected."
This week he went a journey to Philadelphia, in order to
engage the governor there to use his interest with the chief
man of the Six Nations, (with whom he maintained a
strict friendship,) that he would give him leave to live at
Susquehannah, and instruct the Indians that are within
their territories .-f- In his way to and from thence, he lodged
with Mr. Beaty, a young presbyterian minister. He speaks
of seasons of sweet spiritual refreshment that he enjoyed
at his lodgings.
* It seems he bad a design, by what afterwards appears, to remove and
live among the Indians at Susquehannah river.
t The Indians at Susquehannah are a mixed company of many nations,
speaking various languages, and few of them properly of the Six Nations.

" Saturday, April 20. Rode with Mr. Beaty to Abing-
ton, to attend Mr. Treat's administration of the sacrament,
according to the method of the church of Scotland. When
we arrived, we found Mr. Treat preaching ; afterwards I
preached a sermon from Matt. v. 3. ' Blessed are the poor
m spirit,' &c. God was pleased to give me great freedom
and tenderness, both in prayer and sermon : the assembly
was sweetly melted, and scores were all in tears. It was,
as then I hoped, and was afterwards abundantly satisfied
by conversing with them, a ' word spoken in season to
many weary souls.' I was extremely tired, and my
spirits much exhausted, so that I could scarcely speak
loud ; yet I could not help rejoicing in God.
" Lord's day, April 21. In the morning was calm and
composed, and had some outgoings of soul after God in
secret duties, and longing desires ofhis presence in the sanc
tuary and at his table ; that his presence might be in the
assembly ; and that his children might be entertained with
a feast of fat things. — In the forenoon Mr. Treat preached.
I felt some affection and tenderness during the adminis
tration ofthe ordinance. Mr. Beaty preached to the mul
titude abroad, who could not half have crowded into the
meeting-house. In the season of the communion, I had
comfortable and sweet apprehensions of the blissful com
munion of God's people, when they shall meet at their
Father's table in his kingdom, in a state of perfection. —
In the afternoon I preached abroad, to the whole assem
bly, from Rev. xiv. 4. ' These are they that follow the
Lamb,' &e. God was pleased again to give me very
great freedom and clearness, but not so much warmth as
before. However, there was a most amazing attention in
the whole assembly ; and, as I was informed afterwards,
this was a sweet season to many.
" Monday, April 22. I enjoyed some sweetness in re
tirement, iii the morning. At eleven o'clock Mr. Beaty
preached, with freedom and life. Then I preached from
John vii. 37. ' In the last day,' &c. and concluded the
solemnity. Had some freedom ; but not equal to what I
had enjoyed before : yet in the prayer the Lord enabled
me to cry, I hope, with a child-like temper, with tender
ness and brokenness of heart. — Came home with Mr.
Beaty to his lodgings ; and spent the time, while riding,
and afterwards, very agreeably on divine things.
" Tuesday, April 23. Left Mr. Beaty's, and returned
home to the Forks of Delaware : enjoyed some sweet
meditations on the road, and was enabled to lift up my
heart to God in prayer and praise."
The two next days he speaks of much bodily disorder,
but of some degrees of spiritual assistance and freedom.
" Friday, April 26. Conversed with a christian friend
with some warmth ; and felt a spirit of mortification to
the world, in a very great degree. Afterwards was en
abled to pray fervently, and to rely on God sweetly, for
' all things pertaining to life and godliness.' Just in the
evening was visited by a dear christian friend, with whom
I spent an hour or two in conversation, on the very soul
of religion. There are many with whom I can talk about
religion ; but alas ! I find few with whom I can talk re
ligion itself: but, blessed be the Lord, there are some that
love to feed on the kernel, rather than the shell."
The next day he went to the Irish settlement, often be
fore mentioned, about fifteen miles distant; where he
spent the sabbath, and preached with some considerable
assistance. On Monday he returned, in a very weak
state, to his own lodgings.
" Tuesday, April 30. Was scarce able to walk about, and
was obliged to betake myself to bed much of the day ;
and spent away the time in a very solitary manner ; being
neither able to read, meditate, nor pray, and had none to
converse with in that wilderness. Oh, how heavily does
time pass away, when I can do nothing to any good pur
pose ; but seem obliged to pass away precious time ! But
of late, I have seen it my duty to divert myself by all lawful
means, that I may be fit, at least some small part of my
time, to labour for God. And here is the difference be
tween my present diversions, and those I once pursued,
But yet the country having formerly been conquered by the Six Nations,
they claim the land; and the Susquehannah Indians are a kind of vassals
to them.

358

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

when in a natural state. Then I made a god of diversions,
delighted in them with a neglect of God, and drew my
highest satisfaction from them : now I use them as means
to help me in living to God ; fixedly delighting in him,
and not in them, drawing my highest satisfaction from
him. Then they were my all ; now they are only means
leading to my all. And those things that are the greatest
diversion when pursued with this view, do not tend to
hinder but promote my spirituality ; and I see now, more
than ever, that they are absolutely necessary.
" Wednesday, May 1 . Was not able to sit up more than
half the day ; and yet had such recruits of strength some
times, that I was able to write a little on a divine subject.
Was grieved that I could no more live to God. In the
evening had some sweetness and intenseness in secret
prayer. " Thursday, May 2. In the evening, being a little bet
ter in health, I walked into the woods, and enjoyed a sweet
season of meditation and prayer. My thoughts ran upon
Ps. xvii. 15. ' I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy
likeness.' And it was indeed a precious text to me. I
longed to preach to the whole world ; and it seemed to
me, they must needs all be melted in hearing such pre
cious divine truths, as I had then a view and relish of.
My thoughts were exceeding clear, and my soul was re
freshed.  Blessed be the Lord, that in my late and pre
sent weakness, now for many days together, my mind is
not gloomy, as at some other times.
" Friday, May 3. Felt a little vigour of body and mind
in the morning ; had some freedom, strength, and sweet
ness in prayer. Rode to, and spent some time with, my
Indians. In the evening again retiring into the woods, 1
enjoyed some sweet meditations on Isa. liii. 1. 'Yet it
pleased the Lord to bruise him,' &c."
The three next days were spent in much weakness of
body : but yet he enjoyed some assistance in public and
private duties ; and seems to have remained free from me
lancholy. " Tuesday, May 7. Spent the day mainly in making
preparation for a journey into the wilderness. Was still
weak, and concerned how I should perform so difficult a
journey. Spent some time in prayer for the divine bless
ing, direction, and protection in my intended journey ; but
wanted bodily strength to spend the day in fasting and
prayer." The next day he set out on his journey to Susquehan
nah, with his interpreter. He endured great hardships and
fatigues in his way thither through a hideous wilderness ;
where after having lodged one night in the open woods, he
was overtaken with a north-easterly storm, in which he
was almost ready to perish. Having no manner of shelter,
and not being able to make a fire in so great a rain, he
could have no comfort if he stopt ; therefore he determined
to go forward in hopes of meeting with some shelter, with
out which he thought it impossible to live the night through ;
but their horses — happening to have eat poison (for want
of other food) at a place where they lodged the night be
fore — were so sick that they could neither ride nor lead
them, but were obliged to drive them and travel on foot ;
until, through the mercy of God, just at dusk they came to
a bark-hut, where they lodged that night. After he came
to Susquehannah, he travelled about a hundred miles on
the river, and visited many towns and settlements of the
Indians ; saw some of seven or eight distinct tribes ; and
preached to different nations by different interpreters. He
was sometimes much discouraged, and sunk in his spirits,
through the opposition that appeared in the Indians to
Christianity. At other times he was encouraged by the
disposition that some of these people manifested to hear,
and willingness to be instructed. He here met with some
that had formerly been his hearers at Kaunaumeek, and
had removed hither ; who saw and heard him again with
great joy. He spent a fortnight among the Indians on this
river, and passed through considerable labours and hard
ships, frequently lodging on the ground, and sometimes in
the open air ; and at length he fell extremely ill, as he was
riding in the wilderness, being seized with an ague, fol
lowed with a burning fever, and extreme pains in his head
* This is the journey which he occasionally mentions in his printed

and bowels, attended with a great evacuation of blood ;
so that he thought he must have perished in the wilder
ness. But at last coming to an Indian trader's hut, he got
leave to stay there ; and though without physic or food
proper for him, it pleased God, after about a week's dis
tress, to relieve him so far that he was able to ride. He
returned homewards from Juncauta, an island far down
the river ; where was a considerable number of Indians,
who appeared more free from prejudices against Christi
anity, than most of the other Indians. He arrived at the
Forks of Delaware on Thursday, May 30, after having
rode in this jourr.ey about three hundred and forty miles.*
He came home in a very weak state, and under dejection
of mind ; which was a great hinderance to him in religious
exercises. However, on the sabbath, after having preached
to the Indians, he preached to the white people with some
success, from Isa. liii. 10. ' Yet it pleased the Lord to
bruise him,' &c. some being awakened by his preaching.
The next day he was much exercised for want of spiritual
life and fervency.
" Tuesday, June 4. Towards evening was in distress for
God's presence, and a sense of divine things : withdrew
myself to the woods, and spent near an hour in prayer
and meditation ; and I think the Lord had compassion
on me, and gave me some sense of divine things ; which
was indeed refreshing and quickening to me. My soul
enjoyed intenseness and freedom in prayer, so that it
grieved me to leave the place.
" Wednesday, June 5. Felt thirsting desires after God in
the morning. In the evening enjoyed a precious season
of retirement : was favoured with some clear and sweet
meditations upon a sacred text ; divine things opened with
clearness and certainty, and had a divine stamp upon them.
My soul was also enlarged and refreshed in prayer ; and
I delighted to continue in the duty ; and was sweetly as
sisted in praying for fellow-christians, and my dear brethren
in the ministry. Blessed be the dear Lord for such enjoy
ments. 0 how sweet and precious it is, to have a clear
apprehension and tender sense of the mystery of godliness,
of true holiness, and likeness to the best of beings ! O
what a blessedness it is, to be as much like God, as it is
possible for a creature to be like his great Creator ! Lord,
give me more of thy likeness ; ' I shall be satisfied, when
I awake with it.'
" Thursday, June 6. Was engaged a considerable part
of the day in meditation and study on divine subjects.
Enjoyed some special freedom, clearness, and sweetness in
meditation. 0 now refreshing it is, to be enabled to im
prove time well !"
The next day he went a journey of near fifty miles to
Neshaminy, to assist at _ sacramental occasion, to be at
tended at Mr. Beaty's meeting-house ; being invited thither
by him and his people.
" Saturday, June 8. Was exceeding weak and fatigued
with riding in the heat yesterday : but being desired, I
preached in the afternoon, to a crowded audience, from
Isa. xl. 1 . ' Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your
f-< •''¦ ' God was pleased to give me great freedom, in

God.'

opening the sorrows of God's people, and in setting before
them comforting considerations. And, blessed be the
Lord, it was a sweet melting season in the assembly.
" Lord's day, June 9. Felt some longing desires of the
presence of God to be with his people on the solemn oc
casion of the day. In the forenoon Mr. Beaty preached ;
and there appeared some warmth in the assembly. After
wards I assisted in the administration of the Lord's sup
per : and towards the close of it, I discoursed to the
multitude extempore, with some reference to that sacred
passage, Isa. liii. 10. ' Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise
him.' Here God gave me great assistance in addressing
sinners : and the word was attended with amazing power ;
many scores, if not hundreds, in that great assembly, con
sisting of three or four thousand, were much affected ; so
that there was a ' very great mourning, like the mourning
of Hadadrimmon.'— In the evening I could hardly look
any body in the face, because of the imperfections 'I saw
in my performances in the day past.
" Monday, June 10. Preached with a good degree of
Journal.

Part VII.

A. D. 1745, 1746. MT. 28—29.

359

clearness and some sweet warmth, from Psal. xvii. 15. ' I
shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness.' And
blessed be God, there was a great solemnity and attention
in the assembly, and sweet refreshment among God's peo
ple ; as was evident then, and afterwards.
" Tuesday, June 11. Spent the day mainly in conversa
tion with dear christian friends ; and enjoyed some sweet
sense of divine things. O how desirable it is, to keep
company with God's dear children ! These are the ' ex
cellent ones ofthe earth in whom,' I can truly say, ' is all
my delight.' O what delight will it afford, to meet them
all in a state of perfection ! Lord, prgpare me for that
state." The next day he left Mr. Beaty's, and went to Maiden
head in New Jersey ; and spent the next seven days in a
comfortable state of mind, visiting several ministers in
thoseparts. " Tuesday, June 18. Set out from New Brunswick with
a design to visit some Indians at a place called Crossweck-
sung in New Jersey, towards the sea.* In the afternoon,
came to a place called Cranberry, and meeting with a seri
ous minister, Mr. Macknight, I lodged there with him.
Had some enlargementand freedom in prayer with a num
ber of people."

PART VII.

FROM HIS BEGINNING TO PREACH TO THE INDIANS AT
CROSSWEEKSUNG, TILL HE RETURNED FROM HIS LAST
JOURNEY TO SUSQUEHANNAH ILL WITH THE CONSUMP
TION WHEREOF HE DIED.
We are now come to that part of Mr. Brainerd's life,
wherein he had his greatest success, in his labours for the
good of souls, and in his particular business as a missionary
to the Indians. An account of which, if here published,
would doubtless be very entertaining to the reader, after he
has seen, by the preceding parts of this account of his life,
how great and long-continued his desires for the spiritual
good of this sort of people were ; how he prayed, laboured,
and wrestled, and how much he denied himself, and suf
fered, to this end. After all Mr. Brainerd's agonizing in
prayer, and travailing in birth, for the conversion of Indi
ans, and all the interchanges of his raised hopes and ex
pectations, and then disappointments and discouragements ;
and after waiting in a way of persevering prayer, labour,
and suffering, as it were through a long night ,- at length
the day dawns : " Weeping continues for a night, but joy
comes in the morning. He went forth weeping, bearing
precious seed, and now he comes with rejoicing, bringing
his sheaves with him." The desired event is brought to
pass at last ; but at a time, in a place, and upon subjects,
that scarce ever entered into his heart. An account of this
would undoubtedly now much gratify the christian reader:
and it should have been here inserted, as it stands in his
diary, had it not been, that a particular account of this
glorious and wonderful success was drawn up by Mr.
Brainerd himself, pursuant to the order of the Honourable
Society in Scotland, and published by him in his lifetime. I
hope those of my readers, who are not already possessed
of his public Journal, will procure one of those books, that
they may not be without that which in some respects is the
most remarkable, and to a christian mind would be the
most pleasant part, of the whole story. That the reader who
is furnished with one of those books, may know the place
where the defects of this history are to be supplied from
thence, I shall either expressly observe it as I go along, or
else make a dash or stroke thus  ; which when the
reader finds in this 7th part of this history, he is to under
stand by it, that in that place something in Mr. Brainerd's
* Mr. Brainerd having, when at Boston, wrote and left with a friend a
brief relation of facts touching bis labours with the Indians, and reception
among them, during the space of time between November 5, 1744, and June
19, 1745, (with a view to connect his Narrative, addressed to Mr. Pember
ton, and his Journal, 'in case they should ever be reprinted,) concludes the
same with this passage ; " As my body was very feeble, so my mind was
scarce ever so much damped and discouraged about the conversion of tbe

diary, worth observing, is left out, because the same for
substance was published before in his printed Journal.^
" Wednesday, June 19, 1745. Rode to the Indians at
Crossweekbung : found few at home ; discoursed to them,
however, and observed them very serious and attentive.
At night I was extremely worn out, and scarce able to
walk or sit up. Oh, how tiresome is earth ! how dull the
body !
" Thursday, June 20. Towards night preached to the
Indians again ; and had more hearers than before. In the
evening enjoyed some peace and serenity of mind, some
composure and comfort in prayer alone ; and was enabled
to lift up my head with some degree of joy, under an ap
prehension that my redemption draws nigh. Oh, blessed
be God, that there remains a rest to his poor weary people !
" Friday, June 21. Rode to Freehold, to see Mr. Wil
liam Tennent ; and spent the day comfortably with him.
My sinking spirits were a little raised and encouraged ;
and I felt my soul breathing after God, in the midst of
christian conversation. And in the evening, was refreshed
in secret prayer; saw myself a poor worthless creature,
without wisdom to direct, or strength to help myself. Oh,
blessed be God, that lays me under a happy, a blessed ne
cessity of living upon himself!
" Saturday, June 22. About noon rode to the Indians
again ; and near night preached to them. Found my body
much strengthened, and was enabled to speak with abun
dant plainness and warmth. And the power of God evi
dently attended the word ; so that sundry persons were
brought under great concern for their souls, and made to
shed many tears, and to wish for Christ to save them. My
soul was much refreshed, and quickened in my wort : and
I could not but spend much time with them, in order to
open both their misery and remedy. This was indeed a
sweet afternoon to me. While riding, before I came lo the
Indians, my spirits were refreshed, and my soul enabled to
cry to God almost incessantly, for many miles together. In
the evening also I found the consolations of God were not
small : I was then willing to live, and in some respects
desirous of it, that I might do something for the dear
kingdom of Christ; and yet death appeared pleasant : so
that I was in some measure in a strait between two, hav
ing a desire to depart. I am often weary of this world,
and want to leave it on that account; but it is desirable
to be drawn, rather than driven,out of it."
In the four next days is nothing remarkable in his diary,
but what is in his public Journal.
" Thursday, June 27. — My soul rejoiced to find, that
God enabled me to be faithful, and that he was pleased to
awaken these poor Indians by my means. O how heart-
reviving and soul-refreshing is it to me to see the fruit of
my labours !
" Friday, June 28. In the evening my soul was revived,
and my heart lifted up to God in prayer, for my poor
Indians, myself, and friends, and the dear church of God.
And O how refreshing, how sweet was this ! Bless the
Lord, O my soul, and forget not his goodness and tender
mercy. " Saturday, June 29. Preached twice to the Indians ;
and could not but wonder at their seriousness, and the
strictness of their attention. — Blessed be God that has
inclined their hearts to hear. And O how refreshing it is
to me, to see them attend with such uncommon diligence
and affection, with tears in their eyes, and concern in their
hearts ! In the evening could not but lift up my heart to
God in prayer, while riding to my lodgings ; and blessed
be his name, had assistance and freedom. O how much
better than life is the presence of God !"
His diary gives an account of nothing remarkable on the
two next days, besides what is in his public Journal ; ex
cepting bis heart being lifted up with thankfulness, rejoic
ing in God, &c.
" Tuesday, July 2. Rode from the Indians to Brunswick,
near forty miles, and lodged there. Felt my heart drawn
Indians, as at this time. And in this state of body and mind I made my
first visit to the Indians in New Jersey, where God was pleased to display
his power and grace in the remarkable manner that I have represented in
my printed Journal."
t The reader will find the Journal here mentioned in a subsequent
part of this volume.

360

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

out after God in prayer, almost all the forenoon ; especially
while riding. And in the evening, could not help crying
to God for those poor Indians ; and after I went to bed,
mv heart continued to go out to God for them, till I drop
ped asleep. O blessed be God that I may pray !"
He was so fatigued by constant preaching to these In
dians, yielding to their earnest and importunate desires,
that he found it necessary to give himself some relaxation.
He spent therefore about a week in New Jersey, after he
left these Indians, visiting several ministers, and perform
ing some necessary business, before he went to the Forks
of Delaware. And though he was very weak in body, yet
he seems to have been strong in spirit. On Friday, July
12, he arrived at his own house in the Forks of Delaware;
continuing still free from melancholy ; from day to day,
enjoying freedom, assistance, and refreshment in the inner
man. But on Wednesday, the next week, he seems to
have had some melancholy thoughts about his doing so
little for God, being so much hindered by weakness of
body. " Thursday, July 18. Longed to spend the little inch
of time I have in the world more for God. Felt a spirit
of seriousness, tenderness, sweetness, and devotion; and
wished to spend the whole night in prayer and communion
with God.
" Friday, July 19. In the evening walked abroad for
prayer and meditation, and enjoyed composure and free
dom in these sweet exercises ; especially in meditation on
Rev. iii. 12. ' Him that overcometh will I make a pillar
in the temple of my God,' &c. This was then a delight
ful theme to me, and it refreshed my soul to dwell upon it.
Oh, when shall I go no more out from the service and en
joyment of the dear Lord ! Lord, hasten the blessed day."
Within the space of the next six days he speaks of much
inward refreshment and enlargement, from time to time.
" Friday, July 26. In the evening God was pleased to
help me in prayer, beyond what I have experienced for
some time ; especially my soul was drawn out for the en
largement of Christ's kingdom, and for the conversion of
my poor people : and my soul relied on God for the ac
complishment of that great work. Oh, how sweet were
the thoughts of death to me at this time ! Oh, how I long
ed to be with Christ, to be employed in the glorious work
of angels, and with an angel's freedom, vigour, and de
light ! And yet how willing was I to stay awhile on earth,
that I might do something, if the Lord pleased, for his in
terest in the world ! My soul, my very soul, longed for
the ingathering of the poor heathen ; and I cried to God
for them most willingly and heartily ; I could not but cry.
This was a sweet season ; for I had some lively taste of
heaven, and a temper of mind suited in some measure to
the employments and entertainments of it. My soul was
grieved to leave the place ; but my body was weak and
worn out, and it was near nine o'clock. Oh, I longed that
the remaining part of my life might be filled up with
more fervency and activity in the things of God 1 Oh the
inward peace, composure, and God-like serenity of such
a frame ! heaven must needs differ from this only in de
gree, and not in kind. JLord, ever give me this bread of
life." Much of this frame seemed to continue the next day.
" Lord's day, July 28. In the evening my soul was
melted, and my heart broken, with a sense of past barren
ness and deadness : and oh, how I then longed to live to
God, and bring forth much fruit to his glory !
" Monday, July 29. Was much exercised with a sense
of vileness, with guilt and shame before God."
For other things remarkable, while he was this time at
the Forks of Delaware, the reader must be referred to his
public Journal. As particularly for his labours and success
there among the Indians.
On Wednesday, July 31, he set out on his return to
Crossweeksung, and arrived there the next day. In his way
thither, he had longing desires that he might come to the
Indians there, in the ' fulness of the blessing of the gospel
of Christ ;' attended with a sense of his own great weak
ness, dependence, and worthlessness.
" Friday, Aug. 2. In the evening I retired, and my soul
was drawn out in prayer to God ; especially for my poor
people, to whom 1 had sent word that they might gather

together, that I might preach to them the next day. I was
much enlarged in praying for their saving conversion ; and
scarce ever found my desires of any thing of this nature so
sensibly and clearly (to my own satisfaction) disinterested,
and free from selfish views. It seemed to me I had no
care, or hardly any desire, to be the instrument of so glo
rious a work, as I wished and prayed for among the In
dians : if the blessed work might be accomplished to the
honour of God, and the enlargement of the dear Re
deemer's kingdom, this was all my desire and care ; and
for this mercy I hoped, but with trembling; for I felt
what Job expresses, chap. ix. 16. ' If I had called, and he
had answered,' &c. My rising hopes, respecting the con
version of the Indians, have been so often dashed, that my
spirit is as it were broken, and courage wasted, and I hard
ly dare hope."
Concerning his labours and marvellous success amongst
the Indians, for the following ten days, let the reader see
his public Journal. The things worthy of note in his diary,
not there published, are -his earnest and importunate pray
ers for the Indians, and the travail qfhis soul for them from
day to day ; and his great refreshment and joy in behold
ing the wonderful mercy of God, and the glorious manifes
tations of his power and grace in his work among them ;
and his ardent thanksgivings to God ; his heart rejoicing in
Christ, as King of his church, and King of his soul : in par
ticular, at the sacrament ofthe Lord's supper at Mr. Mac-
knight's meeting-house ; together with a sense of his own
exceeding unworthiness, which sometimes was attended
with dejection and melancholy.
" Monday, Aug. 19. — Near noon, I rode to Freehold,
and preached to a considerable assembly, from Matt. v. 3.
' Blessed are the poor in spirit,' &c. It pleased God to
leave me to be very dry and barren ; so that I do not re
member to have been so straitened for a whole twelve
month past. God is just, and he has made my soul ac
quiesce in his will in this regard. It is contrary to flesh
and blood, to be cut off from all freedom, in a large auditory,
where their expectations were much raised : but so it was
with me ; and God helped me to say Amen to it ; ' Good is
the will of the Lord.' In the evening I felt quiet and com
posed, and had freedom and comfort in secret prayer.
" Tuesday, Aug. 20. Was composed and comfortable,
still in a resigned frame. Travelled from Mr. Tennent's in
Freehold to Elizabeth-town. Was refreshed to see friends,
and relate to them what God had done, and was still doing,
among my poor people.
" Wednesday, Aug. 21. Spent the forenoon in conver
sation with Mr. Dickinson, contriving something for the
settlement of the Indians together in a body, that they
might be under better advantages for instruction. In the
afternoon spent time agreeably with other friends ; wrote
to my brother at college : but was grieved that time slid
away, while I did so little for God.
" Friday, Aug. 23. In the morning was very weak ;
but favoured with some freedom and sweetness in prayer :
was composed and- comfortable in mind. After noon rode
to Crossweeksung to my poor people. 
" Saturday, Aug. 24.  Had composure and peace,
while riding from the Indians to my lodgings : was enabled
lo pour out my soul to God for dear friends in New Eng
land. Felt a sweet tender frame of spirit : my soul was
composed and refreshed in God. Had likewise freedom
and earnestness in praying for my dear people : blessed be
God. ' O the peace of God that passeth all understand
ing !' It is impossible to describe the sweet peace of con
science, and tenderness of soul, I then enjoyed. O the
blessed foretastes of heaven !
" Lord's day, Aug. 25.— I rode to my lodgings in the
evening, blessing the Lord for his gracious visitation of the
Indians, and the soul-refreshing things I had seen the day
past amongst them, and praying that God would still carry
on his divine work among them.
" Monday, Aug. 26.— I went from the Indians to my
lodgings, rejoicing for the goodness of God to my poor
people ; and enjoyed freedom of soul in prayer, and other.
duties, in the evening. Bless the Lord, 0 my soul."
The next day he set out on a journey towards the Forks
of Delaware, designing to go from thence to Susquehannah,
before he returned to Crossweeksung. It was five days

Part VII.

A. D. 1745, 1746. MT. 28, 2?.

361

from his departure from Crossweeksung, before he reached
the Forks, going round by the way of Philadelphia, and
waiting on the governor of Pennsylvania, to get a recom
mendation from him to the chiefs of the Indians ; which he
obtained. He speaks of much comfort and spiritual re
freshment in this journey ; and also a sense of his exceed
ing, unworthiness, thinking himself the meanest creature
that ever lived.
" Lord's day, Sept. 1 . [At the Forks of Delaware] 
God gave me the spirit of prayer, and it was a blessed
season in that respect. My soul cried to God for mercy,
in an affectionate manner. In the evening also my soul
rejoiced in God."
His private diary has nothing remarkable, for the two
next days, but what is in his public Journal.
" Wednesday, Sept. 4. Rode fifteen miles to an Irish
settlement, and preached there from Luke xiv. 22. ' And
yet there is room.' God was pleased to afford me some
tenderness and enlargement in the first prayer, and much
freedom, as well as warmth, in sermon. There were many
tears in the assembly : the people of God seemed to melt,
and others to be in some measure awakened. Blessed be
the Lord, that lets me see his work going on in one place
and another."
The account for Thursday is the same for substance as
in his public Journal.
" Friday, Sept. 6. Enjoyed some freedom and intense
ness of mind in prayer alone; and longed to have my soul
more warmed with divine and heavenly things. Was
somewhat melancholy towards night, and longed to die
arid quit a scene of sin and darkness ; but was a little
supported in prayer."
This melancholy continued the next day.
" Lord's day, Sept. 8. In the evening God was pleased
to enlarge me in prayer, and give me freedom at the throne
of grace. I cried to God for the enlargement of his king
dom in the world, and in particular among my dear
people ; was also enabled to pray for many dear minis
ters of my acquaintance, both in these parts and in New
England ; and also for other dear friends in New England.
And my soul was so engaged and enlarged in the sweet
exercise, that I spent near an hour in it, and knew not
how to leave the mercy-seat. Oh, how I delighted to pray
and cry to God ! I saw God was both able and willing
to do all that I desired, for myself and friends, and his
church in general. I was likewise much enlarged and
assisted in family prayer, And afterwards, when I was
just going to bed, God helped me to renew my petitions
with ardency and freedom. Oh, it was to me a blessed
evening of prayer ! Bless the Lord, O my soul."
The next day he set out from the Forks of Delaware to
go to Susquehannah. And on the fifth day of his journey
he arrived at Shaumoking, a large Indian town on Susque
hannah river. He performed the journey under a con
siderable degree of melancholy.
" Saturday, Sept. 14. At [Shaumoking]  In the
evening my soul was enlarged and sweetly engaged in
prayer ; especially that God would set up his kingdom in
this place, where the devil now reigns in the most eminent
manner. And I was enabled to ask this for God, for his
glory, and because I longed for the enlargement of his
kingdom, to the honour of his dear name. I could appeal
to God with the greatest freedom, that he knew it was his
dear cause, and not my own, that engaged my heart : and
my soul cried, ' Lord, set up thy kingdom, for thine own
glory. Glorify thyself ; and I shall rejoice. Get honour to
thy blessed name ; and this is all I desire. Do with me
just what thou wilt. Blessed be thy name for ever, that
thou art God, and that thou wilt glorify thyself. O that
the whole world might glorify thee ! O let these poor
people be brought to know thee, and love thee, for the
glory of thy dear ever-blessed name !" I could not but
hope, that God would bring in these miserable, wicked
Indians ; though there appeared little human probability
of it ; for they were then dancing and revelling, as if pos
sessed by the devil. But yet I hoped, though against hope,
that -God would be glorified, and that his name would be
glorified by these poor Indians. I continued long in
prayer and praise to God ; and had great freedom, en
largement, and sweetness, remembering dear friends in

New England, as well as the people of my charge. Was
entirely free from that dejection of spirit with which 1
am frequently exercised. Blessed be God!"
His diary from this time lo Sept. 22, (the last day of his
continuance among the Indians at Susquehannah,) is not
legible, by reason of the badness of the ink. It was pro
bably written with the juice of some berries found in the
woods, having no other ink in that wilderness. So that
for this space of time the reader must be wholly referred
to his public Journal.
On Monday, Sept. 23, he left the Indians, in order to
return to the Forks of Delaware, in a very weak state of
body, and under dejection of mind, which continued the
two first days of his journey.
" Wednesday, Sept. 25. Rode still homeward. In the
forenoon enjoyed freedom and intenseness of mind in
meditation on Job xiii. 5, 6. 'I have heard of thee by the
hearing of the ear ; but now mine eye seeth thee : where
fore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.' The
Lord gave me clearness to penetrate into the sweet truths
contained in that text. It was a comfortable and sweet
season to me.
" Thursday, Sept. 26. Was still much disordered in
body, and able to ride but slowly. Continued my journey,
however. Near night, arrived at the Irish settlement, about
fifteen miles from mine own house. This day, while
riding, I was much exercised with a sense of my barren
ness ; and verily thought there was no creature that had
any true grace, but what was more spiritual and fruitful.
I could not think that any of God's children made so poor
a hand of living to God.
" Friday, Sept. 27. Spent a considerable time in the
morning in prayer and praise to God. My mind was
somewhat intense in the duty, and my heart in some de
gree warmed with a sense of divine things. My soul was
melted to think that ' God had accounted me faithful,
putting me into the ministry,' notwithstanding all my bar
renness and deadness. My soul was also in some measure
enlarged in prayer for the dear people of my charge, as
well as for other dear friends. In the afternoon visited
some christian friends, and spent the time, I think, profit
ably : my heart was warmed, and more engaged in the
things of God. In the evening I enjoyed enlargement,
warmth, and comfort in prayer : my soul relied on God
for assistance and grace to enable me to do something in
his cause ; my heart was drawn out in thankfulness to God
for what he had done for his own glory among my poor
people of late. I felt encouraged to proceed in his work,
being persuaded of his power, and hoping his arm might
be further revealed, for the enlargement of his dear king
dom : and my soul ' rejoiced in hope of the glory of God,'
in hope of the advancement of his declarative glory in the
world, as well as of enjoying him in a world of glory. Oh,
blessed be God, the living God, for ever!"
H e continued in this comfortable, sweet frame of mind
the two next days. On the day following he went to his
own house, in the Forks of Delaware, and continued still
in the same frame. The next day, which was Tuesday, he
visited his Indians. — Wednesday he spent mostly in writing
the meditations he had in his late journey in Susquehannah.
On Thursday he left the Forks of Delaware, and travelled
towards Crossweeksung, where he arrived on Saturday,
(October 5,) and continued from day to day in a comfort
able state of mind . There is nothing material in his diary
for this day and the next, but what is in his printed Journal.
" Monday, Oct. 7. Being called by the church and
people of East Hampton on Long Island, as a member of
a council, to assist and advise in affairs of difficulty in
that church, I set out on my journey this morning, before
it was well light, and travelled to Elizabeth-town, and
there lodged. Enjoyed some comfort on the road, in
conversation with Mr. Wm. Tennent, who was sent for on
the same business."
He prosecuted his journey with the other ministers who
were sent for; and did not return till Oct. 24. While he
was at East Hampton, the importance of the business that
the council were come upon, lay with such weight on his
mind, and he was so concerned for the interest of religion
in that place, that he slept but little for several nights suc
cessively. In his way to and fro from East Hampton, he

362

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

had several seasons of sweet refreshment, wherein his soul
was enlarged and comforted with divine consolations, in
secret retirement; and he had special assistance in public
ministerial performances in the house of God : and yet, at
the same time, a sense of extreme vileness and unprofitable
ness. From time to time he speaks of soul-refreshment
and comfortin conversation with the ministers that travelled
with him ; and seems to have little or nothing of melan
choly, till he came to the west end of Long Island, in his
return. After that he was oppressed with dejection and
gloominess of mind, for several days together.  For an
account of the four first days after his return from his
journey, I refer'the reader to his public Journal.
" Monday, Oct. 28. Had an evening of sweet refresh
ing ; my thoughts were raised to a blessed eternity ; my
soul was melted with desires of perfect holiness, and per
fectly glorifying God.
" Tuesday, Oct. 29. About noon rode and viewed the
Indian lands at Cranberry : was much dejected, and great
ly perplexed in mind ; knew not how to see any body
again, my soul was so sunk within me. Oh that these
trials might make me more humble and holy. Oh that
God would keep me from giving way to sinful dejection,
which may hinder my usefulness.
" Wednesday, Oct. 30. My soul was refreshed with a
view of the continuance of God's blessed work among the
Indians. " Thursday, Oct. 31 . Spent most of the day in writing :
enjoyed not much spiritual comfort ; but was not so much
sunk with melancholy as at some other times."
Friday, Nov. 1. See the public Journal.
" Saturday, Nov. 2. Spent the day with the Indians,
and wrote some things of importance; and longed to do
more for God than I did or could do in this present
and imperfect state."
Nov. 3, and 4. See the public Journal. — Tuesday, Nov.
5. He left the Indians, and spent the remaining part of
this week in travelling to various parts of New Jersey, in
order to get a collection for the use of the Indians, and to
obtain a schoolmaster to instruct them. And in the mean
time he speaks of very sweet refreshment and entertain
ment with christian friends, and of his being sweetly em
ployed, while riding, in meditation on divine subjects ; his
heart being enlarged, his mind clear, his spirit refreshed
with divine truths, and his " heart burning within him,
while he went by the way and the Lord opened to him the
Scriptures." "Lord's day, Nov. 10. [At Elizabeth-town.] Was
comfortable in the morning, both in body and mind :
preached in the forenoon from 2 Cor. v. 20. ' Now then
we are ambassadors for Christ,' &c. God was pleased to
give me freedom and fervency in my discourse ; and the
presence of God seemed to be in the assembly ; numbers
were affected, and there were many tears among them.
In the afternoon preached from Luke xiv. 22. ' And yet
there is room.' Was favoured with divine assistance in
the first prayer, and poured out my soul to God with a
filial temper of mind; the living God also assisted me in
the sermon."
The next day he went to New-town on Long Island, to
a meeting of the Presbytery. He speaks of some sweet
meditations he had while there, on " Christ delivering up
the kingdom to the Father ;" and of his soul being much
refreshed and warmed with the consideration of that bliss
ful day.
" Friday, Nov. 15. Could not cross the ferry by reason
of the violence of the wind ; nor could I enjoy any place
of retirement at the ferry-house ; so that I was in per
plexity. Yet God gave me some satisfaction and sweet
ness in meditation, and in lifting up my heart to him in
the midst of company. And although some were drink
ing and talking profanely, which was indeed a grief to
me, yet my mind was calm and composed. And I could
not but bless God, that I was not like to spend an eternity
in such company. In the evening I sat down and wrote
with composure and freedom ; and can say (through pure
grace) it was a comfortable evening to my soul, an evening
I was enabled to spend in the service of God.
* This is the third house that he built to dwell in by himself among the
Indians ; the first at Kaunaumeek in the county of Albany ; the second at

"Saturday, Nov. 16. Crossed the ferry about ten
o'clock; arrived at Elizabeth-town near night. Was in a
calm, composed frame of mind, and felt an entire resigna
tion with respect to a loss I had lately sustained, in having
my horse stolen from me the last Wednesday night, at
New-town. Had some longings of soul for the dear peo
ple of Elizabeth-town, that God would pour out his Spirit
upon them, and revive his work amongst them."
He spent the four next days at Elizabeth-town, for the
most part in a free and comfortable state of mind, intensely
engaged in the service of God, and enjoying, at some
times, the special assistances of his Spirit. On Thursday,
this week, he rode to Freehold, and spent the day under
considerable dejection.
" Friday, Nov. 22. Rode to Mr. Tennent's, and from
thence to Crossweeksung. Had but little freedom in me
ditation, while riding ; which was a grief and burden lo
my soul. Oh that I could fill up all mv time, whether in
the house or by the way, for God ! I was enabled, I
think, this day to give up my soul to God, and put over
all my concerns into his hands ; and found some real con
solation in the thought of being entirely at the divine dis
posal, and having no will or interest of my own. I have
received mv all from God ; oh that I could return my all
to God ! Surely God is worthy of my highest affection,
and most devout adoration ; he is infinitely worthy, that
I should make him my last end, and live for ever to him.
Oh that I might never more, in any one instance, live to
myself! "Saturday, Nov. 23. Visited my people; spent the
day with them : wrote some things of importance. But
was pretty much dejected most of the day"
There is nothing very material in his diary for the four
next days, but what is also in his public Journal."
" Thursday, Nov. 28. — I enjoyed some divine comfort
and fervency in the public exercise, and afterwards. And
while riding to my lodgings, was favoured with some
sweet meditations on Luke ix. 31. ' Who appeared in
glory, and spake of his decease, which he should accom-
flish at Jerusalem.' My thoughts ran with freedom, and
saw and felt what a glorious subject the death of Christ
is for glorified souls to dwell upon in their conversation.
Oh, the death of Christ! how infinitely precious!"
For the three next days, see the public Journal.
" Monday, Dec. 2. Was much affected with grief, that
I had not lived more to God ; and felt strong resolutions
to double my diligence in my Master's service."
After this he went to a meeting of the Presbytery at a
place in New Jersey called Connecticut-Farms ; which
occasioned his absence from his people the remainder of
this week. He speaks of some seasons of sweetness, so
lemnity, and spiritual affection in his absence. — Lord's
day, Dec. 8. See his public Journal.
" Monday, Dec. 9. ¦ Spent most of the day in procuring
provisions, in order to my setting up house-keeping among
the Indians. Enjoyed little satisfaction through the day,
being very much out of my element.
" Tuesday, Dec. 10. Was engaged in the same busi
ness as yesterday. Towards night, got into my own
house.* " Wednesday, Dec. 11. Spent the forenoon in neces
sary labour about my house. In the afternoon, rode out
upon business, and spent the evening with some satisfac
tion among friends in conversation on a serious and pro
fitable subject."
Thursday, Dec. 12. See his public Journal.
" Friday, Dec. 13. Spent the day mainly in labour
about my house. In the evening, spent some time in
writing ; but was very weary, and much outdone with the
labour ofthe dav.
" Saturday, Dec. 14. Rose early, and wrote by candle
light some considerable time : spent most of the day in
writing ; but was somewhat dejected. In the evening
was exercised with a pain in my head."
For the two next days see his public Journal. The
remainder qf this week he spent chiefly in writing: some
part of the time under a degree of melancholy ; but some
part of it with a sweet ardency in religion.
the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania ; and now this at Crossweeksung in
New Jersey.

Part VII.

A. D. 1745, 1746. MT. 28, 29.

363

" Saturday, Dec. 21. After my labours with the In
dians, I spent some time in writing some things divine and
solemn ; and was much wearied with the labours of the ,
day ; found that my spirits were extremely spent, and that
I could do no more. I am conscious to myself that my
labours are as great and constant as my nature will bear,
and that ordinarily I go to the extent of my strength ; so
that I do all I can : but the misery is, I do not labour
with that heavenly temper, that single eye to the glory of
God, that I long for."
Lord's day, Dec. 22. See the public- Journal.
" Monday and Tuesday, Dec. 23 and 24. Spent these
days in writing, with the utmost diligence. Felt in the
main a sweet mortification to the world, and a desire to
live and labour only for God ; but wanted more warmth
and spirituality, a more sensible and affectionate regard to
the glory of God."
Wednesday, Dec. 25. See the public Journal.
" Thursday and Friday, Dec. 26 and 27. Laboured in
my studies, to the utmost of my strength ; and though I
felt a steady disposition of mind to live to God, and that
I had nothing in this world to live for ; yet I did not find
that sensible affection in the service of God, that I wanted
to have ; my heart seemed barren, though my head and
hands were full of labour."
For the four next days see his public Journal.*
" Wednesday, Jan. 1, 1746. I am this day beginning
a new year; and God has carried me through numerous
trials and labours in the past. He has amazingly support
ed my feeble frame ; for ' having obtained help of God, I
continue to this dav.' O that I might live nearer to God
this year than I did the last 1 The business to which 1
have been called, and which I have been enabled to go
through, I know, has been as great as nature could bear
up under, and what would have sunk and overcome me
quite, without special support. But alas,alas ! though I
have done the labours, and endured the trials, with what
spirit have I done the one, and borne the other ? how cold
has been the frame of my heart oftentimes ! and how little
have I sensibly eyed the glory of God, in all my doings
and sufferings ! I have found that I could have no peace
without filling up all my 'time with labours ; and thus
'necessity has been laid upon me;' yea, in that respect, I
have loved to labour : but the misery is, I could not
sensibly labour for God, as I would have done. May I
for the future be enabled more sensibly to make the glory
of God my all !"
For the space from this time till the next Monday, see
the public Journal.
" Monday, Jan. 6. Being very weak in body, I rode
for my health. While riding, my thoughts were sweetly
engaged, for a time, upon ' the stone cut out of the moun
tain without hands, which brake in pieces' all before it,
and ' waxed great, and became a great mountain, and fill
ed the whole earth ;' and I longed that Jesus should
' take to himself his great power, and reign to the ends of
the earth.' And oh, how sweet were the moments,
wherein I felt my soul warm with hopes of the enlarge
ment of the Redeemer's kingdom ! I wanted nothing
else but that Christ should reign, to the glory of his bless
ed name.i'
Tli« next day he complains of want of fervency.
" Wednesday, Jan. 8. In the evening my heart was
drawn out after God in secret : my soul was refreshed
and quickened ; and, I trust, faith was in exercise. I had
great hopes of the ingathering of precious souls to Christ;
not only among my own people, but others also. I was
sweetly resigned and composed under my bodily weak
ness ; and was willing to live or die, and desirous to la
bour for God to the utmost of my strength.
" Thursday, Jan. 9. Was still very weak, and much
exercised with vapoury disorders. In the evening enjoy
ed some enlargement and spirituality in prayer. Oh that
I could always spend my time profitably, both in health
and weakness !
" Friday, Jan. 10. My soul was in a sweet, calm,
composed frame, and my heart filled with love to all the
^orld ; and christian simplicity and tenderness seemed
* On the first of these days he wrote the sixth letter published among

then to prevail and reign within me. Near night visited
a serious baptist minister, and had some agreeable con
versation with him ; and found that I could taste God in
friends." For the four next days see the public Journal.
" Wednesday, Jan. 15. My spirits were very low and
flat, and I could not but think I was a burden to God's
earth ; and could scarcely look any body in the face,
through shame and sense of barrenness. God pity a poor
unprofitable creature !"
The two next days he had some comfort and refresh
ment. For the two following days see the public Journal.
The next day he set out on a journey to Elizabeth-town,
to confer with the Correspondents, at their meeting there ;
and enjoyed much spiritual refreshment from day to day,
through this week . The things expressed in this space of
time, are such as these ; serenity, composure, sweetness,
and tenderness of soul ; thanksgiving to God for his suc
cess among the Indians ; delight in prayer and praise ;
sweet and profitable meditations on various divine sub
jects ; longing for more love, for mote vigour to live to
God, for a life more entirely devoted to him, that he might
spend all his time profitably for God and in his cause ;
conversing on spiritual subjects with affection ; and la
mentation for unprofitableness.
" Lord's day, Jan. 26. [At Connecticut-Farms.] Was
calm and composed. Was made sensible of my utter in
ability to preach without divine help ; and was in some
good measure willing to leave it with God, to give or
withhold assistance, as be saw would be most for his own
glory. Was favoured with a considerable degree of as
sistance in my public work. After public worship, I was
in a sweet and solemn frame of mind, thankful to God
that he had made me in some measure faithful in address
ing precious souls, but grieved that I had been no more
fervent in my work ; and was tenderly affected towards
all the world,' longing that every sinner might be saved ;
and could not have entertained any bitterness towards the
worst enemy living. In the evening rode to Elizabeth-
town : while riding was almost constantly engaged in
lifting up my heart to God, lest I should lose that sweet
heavenly solemnity and composure of soul I then enjoy
ed. Afterwards was pleased to think that God reigneth;
and thought I could never be uneasy with any of his dis
pensations ; but must be entirely satisfied, whatever trials
he should cause me or his church to encounter. Never
felt more sedateness, divine serenity, and composure of
mind ; could freely have left the dearest earthly friend, for
the society of ' angels, and spirits of just men made per
fect :' my affections soared aloft to the blessed Author of
every dear enjoyment. I viewed the emptiness and unsa
tisfactory nature of the most desirable earthly objects, any
further than God is seen in them : and longed for a life of
spirituality and inward purity ; without which, I saw,
there could be no true pleasure."
He retained a great degree of this excellent frame of
mind the four next days. As to his public services for
and among the Indians, and his success at this time, see
the public Journal.
" Saturday, Feb. 1. Towards night enjoyed some of
the clearest thoughts on a divine subject, (viz. that treated
of 1 Cor. xv. 13 — 16. 'But if there be no resurrection of
the dead,' &c.) that ever I remember to have had upon
any subject whatsoever; and spent two or three hours'in
writing them. I was refreshed with this intenseness : my
mind was so engaged in these meditations, I could scarcely
turn it to any thing else ; and indeed I could not be will
ing to part with so sweet an entertainment. 
" Lord's day, Feb. 2.  After public worship, my
bodily strength being much spent, my spirits sunk amaz
ingly ; and especially on hearing that I was so generally
taken to be a Roman catholic, sent by the papists to draw
the Indians into an insurrection against the English, that
some were in fear of me, and others were for having me
taken up by authority and punished. Alas, what will
not the devil do to bring a slur and disgrace on the work
of God ! Oh, how holy and circumspect had I need to
be ! Through divine goodness, I have been enabled to
bis Remains .

364

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

' mind my own business,' in these parts, as well as else
where; and to let all men, and all denominations of men,
alone, as to their parti/ notions ; and only preached the
plain and necessary truths of Christianity, neither inviting
to, nor excluding from, my meeting any, of any sort or
persuasion whatsoever. Towards night the Lord gave
me freedom at the throne of grace, in my first praver
before my catechetical lecture : and in opening the 46th
Psalm to my people, my soul confided in God, although
the wicked world should slander and persecute me, or
even condemn and execute me as a traitor to my king and
country. Truly God is a ' present help in time of trou
ble.' In the evening my soul was in some measure
comforted, having some hope that one poor soul was
brought home to God this day ; though the case did by
no means appear clear. Oh that I could fill up every mo
ment of time, during my abode here below, in the service
of my God and King.
" Monday, Feb. 3. My spirits were still much sunk
with what I heard the day before, of my being suspected
to be engaged in the Pretender's interest : it grieved me,
that after there had been so much evidence of a glorious
work qf grace among these poor Indians, as that the most
carnal men could not but take notice of the great change
made among them, so many poor souls should still suspect
the whole to be only a popish plot, and so cast an awful
reproach on this blessed work of the divine Spirit; and at
the time wholly exclude themselves from receiving any
benefit by this divine influence. This put me upon search
ing whether I had ever dropped any thing inadvertently,
that might give occasion to any to suspect that I was stir
ring up the Indians against the English : and could think
of nothing, unless it was my attempting sometimes to vin
dicate the rights of the Indians, and complaining of the
horrid practice of making the Indians drunk, and then
cheating them out of their lands and other properties :
and once, I remembered, I had done this with too much
warmth of spirit, which much distressed me; thinking
that it might possibly prejudice them against this work of
grace, to their everlasting destruction. God, I believe,
did me good by this trial ; which served to humble me,
and show me the necessity of watchfulness, and of being
' wise as a serpent,' as well as ' harmless as a dove.' This
exercise led me often to the throne of grace ; and there I
found some support ; though I could not get the burden
wholly removed. Was assisted in prayer, especially in the
evening." He remained still under a degree of exercise of mind
about this affair ; which continued to have the same effect
upon him, to cause him to reflect upon, and humble him
self, and frequent the throne of grace : but soon found
himself much more relieved and supported. He was, this
week, in an extremely weak state, and obliged (as he ex
presses it) " to consume considerable time in diversions for
his health.'' For Saturday, Feb. 7. and the sabbath fol
lowing, see his public Journal.
The Monday after he set out on a journey to the Forks
of Delaware, to visit the Indians there. He performed the
journey under great weakness, and sometimes was exercised
with much pain ; but says nothing of dejection and me
lancholy. He arrived at his own house at the Forks on
Friday. The things appertaining to his inward frames
and exercises, expressed within this'week, are, sweet com
posure of mind ; thankfulness to God for his mercies to
him and others ; resignation to the divine will ; comfort
in prayer and religious conversation ; his heart drawn out
after God, and affected with a sense of his own barrenness,
as well as the fulness and freeness of divine grace.
" Lord's day, Feb. 16.  In the evening was in a sweet
composed frame of mind. It was exceeding refreshing and
comfortable to think that God had been with me, afford
ing me some good measure of assistance. I then found
freedom and sweetness in prayer and thanksgiving to God ;
and found my soul sweetly engaged and enlarged in prayer
for dear friends and acquaintance. Blessed be the name
of the Lord, that ever I am enabled to do any thing for
his dear interest and kingdom. Blessed be God who
enables me to be faithful.— Enjoyed more resolution and
courage for God, and more refreshment of spirit, than I
have been favoured with for many weeks past.

" Monday, Feb. 17.  1 was refreshed and encouraged :
found a spirit of prayer, in the evening, and earnest long
ings for the illumination and conversion of these poor In
dians." Tuesday, Feb. 18. See the public Journal.
" Wednesday, Feb. 19.  My heart was comforted and
refreshed, and my soul filled with longings for the con
version of the Indians here.
" Thursday, Feb. 20.  God was pleased to support
and refresh my spirits, by affording me assistance this day,
and so hopeful a prospect of success. I returned home
rejoicing and blessing the name of the Lord ; found free
dom and sweetness afterwards in secret prayer, and had
my soul drawn out for dear friends. Oh, how blessed a
thing is it, to labour for God faithfully, and with encou
ragement of success! Blessed be the Lord for ever and
ever, for the assistance and comfort granted this day.
" Friday, Feb. 21.— — My soul was refreshed and com
forted, and I could not but bless God, who had enabled
me in some good measure to be faithful in the day past.
Oh, how sweet it is to be spent and worn out for God !
" Saturday, Feb. 22.  My spirits were much sup
ported, though my bodily strength was much wasted. Oh
that God would be gracious to the souls of these poor
Indians !
" God has been very gracious to me this week : he has
enabled me to preach every day; and has given me some
assistance, and encouraging prospect of success in almost
every sermon. Blessed be his name. Divers of the white
people have been awakened this week, and sundry of the
Indians much cured of prejudices and jealousies they had
conceived against Christianity, and some seem to be really
awakened." Lord's day, Feb. 23. See the public Journal. — The
next day, he left the Forks of Delaware, to return to Cross
weeksung ; and spent the whole week till Saturday, before
he arrived there ; but preached by the way every day, ex
cepting one ; and was several times greatly assisted ; and
had much inward comfort, and earnest longings to fill up
all his time in the service of God. He utters such ex
pressions as these, after preaching: "Oh that I may be
enabled to plead the cause of God faithfully, to my dying
moment ! Oh how sweet it would be to spend myseif
wholly for God, and in his cause, and to be freed from
selfish motives in my labours."
For Saturday and Lord's day, March 1 and 2, see
the public Journal. The four nexj days were spent in
great bodily weakness ; but he speaks of some seasons of
considerable inward comfort.
" Thursday, March 6. I walked alone in the evening,
and enjoyed sweetness and comfort in prayer, beyond what
I have of late enjoyed : my soul rejoiced in my pilgrim
age state, and I was delighted with the thoughts of labour
ing and enduring hardness for God : felt some longing de
sires to preach the gospel to dear immortal souls ; and
confided in God, that he would be with me in my work,
and that he ' never would leave nor forsake me,' to the
end of my race. Oh, may I obtain mercy qf God to be
faithful to my dying moment !
" Friday, March 7. In the afternoon went on in my work
with freedom and cheerfulness, God assisting »me ; and
enjoyed comfort in the evening."
For the two next days see the public Journal.
" Monday, March 10. — My soul was refreshed with
freedom and enlargement ; and 1 hope, the lively exercise
of faith, in secret prayer, this night ; my will was sweetly
resigned lo the divine will, and my hopes respecting the
enlargement of the dear kingdom of Christ somewhat
raised, and could commit Zion's cause to God as his own."
On Tuesday he speaks of some sweetness and spiritu
ality in christian conversation. On Wednesday com
plains that he enjoyed not much comfort and satisfaction,
through the day, because he did but little for God. On
Thursday spent considerable time in company, on a special
occasion; but in perplexity, because without savoury re
ligious conversation. For Friday, Saturday, and Lord's
day, see the public Journal.
In the former part of the week following he was very
ill ; and also under great dejection ; being, as he appre
hended, rendered unserviceable by illness, and fearing that

Part VII.

A. D. 1745, 1746. iET. 28, 29.

365

he should never be serviceable any more ; and therefore
exceedingly longed for death. But afterwards was more
encouraged, and life appeared more desirable, because, as
he says, he " had a little dawn of hope, that he might be
useful, in the world." In the latter part of the week he
was in some measure relieved of his illness, in the use of
means prescribed by a physician. — For Saturday and
Lord's day, March 22 and 23, see his public Journal.
" Monday, March 24. — After the Indians were gone to
their work, to clear their lands, I got alone, and poured
out my soul to God, that he would smile upon these
feeble beginnings, and that he would settle an Indian
town, that might be a mountain qf holiness ; and found
my soul much refreshed in these petitions, and much
enlarged for Zion's interest, and for numbers of dear friends
in particular. My sinking spirits were revived and raised,
and I felt animated in the service God has called me to.
This was the dearest hour I have enjoyed for many days,
if not weeks. I found an encouraging hope, that some
thing would be done for God, and that God would use
and help me in his work. And oh, how sweet were the
thoughts of labouring for God, when I felt any spirit and
courage, and had any hope that ever I should be suc
ceeded !"
The next day his schoolmaster was taken sick with a
pleurisy ; and he spent great part of the remainder of this
week in attending him : which in his weak state was al
most an overbearing burden ; he being obliged constantly
to wait upon him, from day to day, and to lie on the floor
at night. His spirits sunk in a considerable degree, with
his bodily strength, under this burden. — For Saturday and
Lord's day, March 29 and 30, see the public Journal.
" Monday, March 31 . Towards night enjoyed some
sweet meditations on those words : ' It is good for me to
draw near to God.' My soul, I think, had some sweet
sense of what is intended in those words."
The next day he was extremely busy in tending the
schoolmaster, and in some other necessary affairs, that
greatly diverted him from what he looked upon as his
proper business : but yet speaks of comfort and refresh
ment at some times of the day.
" Wednesday, April 2. Was somewhat exercised with a
spiritless frame of mind ; but was a little relieved and
refreshed in the evening with meditation alone in the
woods. But, alas ! my days pass away as the chaff'! it
is but little I do, or can do, that turns to any account ;
and it is my constant misery and burden, that I am so
fruitless in the vineyard of the Lord. Oh that I were
spirit, that I might be active for God. This, (I think,)
more than any thing else, makes me long, that ' this cor
ruptible might put on incorruption, and this mortal put on
immortality.' God deliver me from clogs, fetters, and a
body of death, that impede my service for him."
The next day he complains bitterly of some exercises by
corruption he found in his own heart.
" Friday, April 4. Spent most of the day in writing
on Rev. xxii. 17. ' And whosoever will,' &c. Enjoyed
some freedom and encouragement in my work ; and found
some comfort in prayer.
"Saturday, April 5. — After public worship a number
of my dear christian Indians came to my house ; with
whom I felt a sweet union of soul. My heart was knit to
them ; and I cannot say I have felt such a sweet and
fervent love to the brethren for some time past ; and I
saw in them appearances of the same love. This gave me
something of a view of the heavenly state ; and particu
larly that part of the happiness of heaven, which consist-
in the communion qf saints : and this was affecting to me."
For the two next days see the public Journal.  On
Tuesday he went to a meeting of the Presbytery appointed
at Elizabeth-town. In his way thither he enjoyed some
sweet meditations ; but after he came there he was (as he
expresses it) very vapoury and melancholy, and under an
awful gloom, that oppressed his mind. And this con
tinued till Saturday evening, when he began to have some
relief and encouragement. He spent the sabbath at Staten-
Island ; where he preached to an assembly of Dutch and
English, and enjoyed considerable refreshment and com-
* This day he entered into the 29th year of his age.

fort, both in public and private. In' the evening he
returned to Elizabeth-town.
" Monday, April 14. My spirits this day were raised
and refreshed, and my mind composed, so that I was in a
comfortable frame of soul most of the day. In the
evening my head was clear, my mind serene ; I enjoyed
sweetness in secret prayer, and meditation on Ps. lxxiii.
28. ' But it is good for me to draw near to God,' &rc.
Oh, how free, how comfortable, cheerful, and yet solemn,
do I feel when I am in a good measure freed from those
damps and melancholy glooms, that I often labour under !
And blessed be the Lord, I find myself relieved in this
respect. " Tuesday, April 15. My soul longed for more spi
rituality ; and it was my burden, that I could do no more
for God. Oh, my barrenness is my daily affliction and
heavy load ! Oh, how precious is time : and how it
pains me, to see it slide away, while I do so very little to
any good purpose ! Oh that God would make me more
fruitful and spiritual."
The next day he speaks of his being almost overwhelm
ed with vapoury disorders ; but yet not so as wholly to
destroy the composure of his mind.
" Thursday, April 17 '. Enjoyed some comfort in prayer,
some freedom in meditation, and composure in my studies.
Spent some time in writing in the forenoon. In the af
ternoon spent some time in conversation with several dear
ministers. In the evening preached from Ps. lxxiii. 28.
' But it is good for me to draw near to God.' God helped
me to feel the truth of my text, both in the first prayer and
in sermon. I was enabled to pour out my soul to God,
with great freedom, fervency, and affection ; and blessed
be the Lord, it was a comfortable season to me. I was
enabled to speak with tenderness, and yet with faithful
ness ; and divine truths seemed to fall with weight and
influence upon the hearers. My heart was melted for the
dear assembly, and I loved every body in it ; and scarce
ever felt more love to immortal souls in my life : my soul
cried, 'Oh that the dear creatures might be saved! 0
that God would have mercy on them !' "
He seems to have been in a very comfortable frame of
mind the two next days.
" Lord's day, April 20. * Enjoyed some freedom, and,
I hope, exercise of faith in prayer, in the morning ; espe
cially when I came to pray for Zion. I was free from that
gloomy discouragement that so often oppresses my mind ;
and my soul rejoiced in the hopes of Zion's prosperity, and
the enlargement of the dear kingdom of the great Re
deemer. Oh that his kingdom might come. 
" Monday, April 21. Was composed and comfortable
in min. most of the day ; and was mercifully freed from
those gloomy damps that I am frequently exercised with.
Had freedom and comfort in prayer several times ; and
especially had some rising hopes of Zion's enlargement
and prosperity. Oh, how refreshing were these hopes to
my soul ! On that the kingdom of the dear Lord might
come. Oh that the poor Indians might quickly be gathered
in, in great numbers !
" Tuesday, April 22. My mind was remarkably free
this day from melancholy damps and glooms, and ani
mated in my work. I found such fresh vigour and
resolution in the service of God, that the mountains seemed
to become aplain before me. Oh, blessed be God for an
interval of refreshment, and fervent resolution in my Lord's
work ! In the evening my soul was refreshed in secret
prayer, and my heart drawn out for divine blessings ;
especially for the church of God, and his interest among
my own people, and for dear friends in remote places.
Oh that Zion might prosper, and precious souls be brought
home to God!"
In this comfortable, fervent frame of mind he remained
the two next days. — For the four days next following, viz.
Friday, Saturday, Lord's day, and Monday, see his public
Journal. — On Tuesday he went to Elizabeth-town, to at
tend the meeting of the Presbytery there : and seemed to
spend the time while absent from his people on this occa
sion, in a free and comfortable state of mind.
" Saturday, May 3. Rode from Elizabeth-town home

366

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

to my people, at or near Cranberry ; whither they are now
removed, and where, I hope, God will settle them as a
christian congregation. Was refreshed in lifting up my
heart to God, while riding ; and enjoyed a thankful frame
of spirit for divine favours received the week past. Was
somewhat uneasy and dejected in the evening ; having no
house of my own to go into in this place : but God was
my support."
For Lord's day and Monday see the public Journal.
" Tuesday, May 6. Enjoyed some spirit and courage
in my work ; was in a good measure free from melancholy :
blessed be God for freedom from this death.
" Wednesday, May 7. Spent most of the day in writ
ing, as usual. Enjoyed some freedom in my work. Was
favoured with some comfortable meditations this day. In
the evening was in a sweet composed frame of mind ;
was pleased and delighted to leave all with God, respect
ing myself, for time and eternity, and respecting the people
of my charge, and dear friends. Had no doubt but that
God would take care of me, and of his own interest among
my people ; and was enabled to use freedom in prayer,
as a child with a tender father. Oh, how sweet is such a
frame !
" Thursday, May 8. In the evening was somewhat
refreshed with divine things, and enjoyed a tender, melting
frame in secret prayer, wherein my soul was drawn out for
the interest of Zion, and comforted with the lively hope
of the appearing of the kingdom of the great Redeemer.
These were sweet moments : I felt almost loth to go to
bed, and grieved that sleep was necessary. However, I
lay down with a tender, reverential fear of God, sensible
that ' his favour is life,' and his smiles better than all that
earth can boast of, infinitely better than life itself."
Friday, May 9. See the public Journal.
" SaturdayjMuy 10. Rode to Allen's-town, to assist
in the administration of the Lord's supper. In the after
noon preached from Tit. ii. 14. ' Who gave himself for
us,' &c. God was pleased to carry me through with some
competency of freedom ; and yet to deny me that enlarge
ment and power I longed for. In the evening my soul
mourned, and could not but mourn, that I had treated so
excellent a subject in so defective a manner ; that I had
borne so broken a testimony for so worthy and glorious a
Redeemer. And if my discourse had met with the utmost
applause from all the world, (as I accidentally heard it
applauded by some persons of judgment,) it would not
have given me any satisfaction. Oh, it grieved me to
think, that I had had no more holy warmth and fervency,
that I had been no more melted in discoursing of Christ's
death, and the end and design of it ! Afterwards enjoyed
some freedom and fervency in secret and family prayer,
and longed much for the presence of God to attend his
word and ordinances the next day.
" Lord's day, May 11. Assisted in the administration
of the Lord's supper ; but enjoyed little enlargement: was
grieved and sunk with some things I thought undesirable,
&c. In the afternoon went to the house of God weak
and sick in soul, as well as feeble in body : and longed
that the people might be entertained and edified with divine
truths, and that an honest fervent testimony might be borne
for God ; but knew not how it was possible for me to do
any thing of that kind, to any good purpose. Yet God,
who is rich in mercy, was pleased to give me assistance,
both in prayer and preaching. God helped me to wrestle
for his presence in prayer, and to tell him that he had
promised, ' Where two or three are met together in his
name, there he would be in the midst of them ;' and that
we were, at least some of us, so met ; and pleaded, that
for his truth's sake he would be with us. And blessed
be God, it was sweet to my soul thus to plead, and rely on
God's promises. Discoursed upon Luke ix. 30, 31 . ' And
behold, there talked with him two men, which were Moses
and Elias ; who appeared in glory, and spake of his
decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem.' En
joyed special freedom, from the beginning to the end of
my discourse, without interruption. Things pertinent to
the subject were abundantly presented to my view; and
such a fulness of matter, that I scarce knew how to dis
miss the various heads and particulars 1 had occasion to
touch upon. And, blessed be the Lord, I was favoured

with some fervency and power, as well as freedom ; so that
the word of God seemed to awaken the attention of a
stupid audience, to a considerable degree. I was inwardly
refreshed with the consolations of God ; and could with
my whole heart say, ' Though there be no fruit in the
vine, &c. yet will I rejoice in the Lord.' After public
service, was refreshed with the sweet conversation of some
christian friends."
The four next days seem to have been mostly spent with
spiritual comfort and profit.
" Friday, May 16. Near night enjoyed some agree
able and sweet conversation with a dear minister, which, I
trust, was blessed to my soul. My heart was warmed, and
my soul engaged to live to God ; so that I longed to exert
myself with more vigour than ever I had done in his
cause : and those words were quickening to me, ' Herein
is my Father glorified, that ye bring forth much fruit.'
Oh, my soul longed, and wished, and prayed, to be enabled
to live to God with utmost constancy and ardour ! In the
evening God was pleased to shine upon me in secret
prayer, and draw out my soul after himself; and I had
freedom in supplication for myself, but much more in
intercession for others : so that I was sweetly constrained
to say, ' Lord, use me as thou wilt ; do as thou wilt with
me : but oh, promote thine own cause ! Zion is thine ;
oh visit thine heritage ! Let thy kingdom come ! Oh let
thy blessed interest be advanced in the world !' When I
attempted to look to God, respecting my worldly circum
stances, and his providential dealings with me, in regard of
my settling down in my congregation, which seems to be
necessary, and yet very difficult, and contrary to my fixed
intention for years past, as well as my disposition — which
has been, and still is, at times especially, to go forth, and
spend my life in preaching the gospel from place to place,
and gathering souls afar off to Jesus the great Redeemer
— I could only say, ' The will of the Lord be done ; it is
no matter for me.' The same frame of mind I felt with
respect to another important affair I have lately had some
serious thoughts of: I could say, with utmost calmness
and composure, ' Lord, if it be most for thy glory, let me
Eroceed in it ; but if thou seest that it will in any wise
inder my usefulness in thy cause, oh prevent my pro
ceeding : "for all I want, respecting this world, is such cir
cumstances as may best capacitate me to do service for
God in the world.' But blessed be God, I enjoyed liberty
in prayer for my dear flock, and was enabled to pour out
my soul into the bosom of a tender Father : my heart
within me was melted, when I came to plead for my dear
people, and for the kingdom of Christ in general. Oh,
how sweet was this evening to my soul ! I knew not how
to go to bed ; and when got to bed, longed for some way
to improve time for God, to some excellent purpose. Bless
the Lord, O my soul.
" Saturday, May 17. Walked out in the morning, and
felt much of the same frame I enjoyed the evening before :
had my heart enlarged in praying for the advancement of
the kingdom of Christ, and found the utmost freedom in
leaving all my concerns with God.
" I find discouragement to be an exceeding hinderance to
my spiritual fervency and affection : but when God enables
me sensibly to find that I have done something for him,
this refreshes and animates me, so that I could break
through all hardships, undergo any labours, and nothing
seems too much either to do or to suffer. But oh, what a
death it is, to strive, and strive ; to be always in a hurry,
and yet do nothing, or at least nothing for God ! Alas,
alas, that time flies away, and I do so little for God !
" Lord's day, May 18. I felt my own utter insufficiency
for my work : God made me to see that I was a child ;
yea, that I was a fool. I discoursed, both parts of the
day, from Rev. iii.' 20. " Behold, I stand at the door and
knock." God gave me freedom and power in the latter
part of my forenoon's discourse : although, in the former
part of it, I felt peevish and provoked with the unman
nerly behaviour of the white people, who crowded in be
tween my people and me ; which proved a great temptation
to me. But blessed be God, I got these shackles off before
the middle of my discourse, and was favoured with a
sweet frame of spirit in the latter part of the exercise ; was
full of love, warmth, and tenderness, in addressing my

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A. D. 1745, 1746. MT. 28, 29.

367

dear people. — In the intermission-season, could not but
discourse to my people on the kindness and patience of
Christ in standing and knocking at the door,fyc.  In the
evening I was grieved that I had done so little for God.
Oh that I could be a flame of fire in the service of my
God !"
Monday, May 19. See the public Journal.—- On Tues
day he complains of want of freedom and comfort ; but
had some return of these on Wednesday.
" Thursday, May 22. In the evening was in a frame
somewhat remarkable : had apprehended for several days
before, that it was the design of Providence I should settle
among my people here ; and had in my own mind begun
to make provision for it, and to contrive means to hasten
it ; and found my heart something engaged in it, hoping I
might then enjoy more agreeable circumstances of life, in
several respects : and yet was never fully determined,
never quite pleased with the thoughts of being settled and
confined to one place. Nevertheless I seemed to have
some freedom in that respect, because the congregation I
thought of settling with, was one that God had enabled
me to gather from amongst pagans. For I never, since I
began to preach, could feel any freedom to ' enter into
other men's labours,' and settle down in the ministry where
the ' gospel was preached before.' I never could make
that appear to be my province : when I felt any disposi
tion to consult my ease and worldly comfort, God has
never given me any liberty in that respect, either since or
for some years before I began to preach. But God having
succeeded my labours, and made me instrumental in
gathering a church for him among these Indians, I was
ready to think, it might be his design to give me a quiet
settlement and a stated home of my own. And this, con
sidering the late frequent sinking and failure of my spirits,
and the need I stood in of some agreeable society, and my
great desire of enjoying conveniencies and opportunities
for profitable studies, was not altogether disagreeable to
me. Although I still wanted to go about far and wide,
in order to spread the blessed gospel among benighted
souls, far remote ; yet I never had been so willing to set
tle in any one place, for more than five years past, as I
was in the foregoing part of this week. But now these
thoughts seemed to be wholly dashed to pieces ; not by
necessity, but of choice : for it appeared to me, that God's
dealings towards me had fitted me for a life of solitariness
and hardship ; and that I had nothing to lose, nothing to
do with earth, and consequently nothing to lose by a total
renunciation of it. It appeared to me just right, that I
should be destitute of house and home, and many com
forts of life, which I rejoiced to see others of God s peo
ple enjoy. And at the same time, I saw so much of the
excellency of Christ's kingdom, and the infinite desirable
ness of its advancement in the world, that it swallowed up
all my other thoughts ; and made me willing, yea, even
rejoice, to be made a pilgrim or hermit in the wilderness,
to my dying moment, if I might thereby promote the
blessed interest of the great Redeemer. And if ever my
soul presented itself to God for his service, without any
reserve of any kind, it did so now. The language of my
thoughts and disposition now was, ' Here I am, Lord,
send me ; send me to the ends of the earth ; send me to the
rough, the savage pagans of the wilderness ; send me
from all that is called comfort in earth, or earthly comfort ;
send me even to death itself, if it be but in thy service,
and to promote thy kingdom.' And at the same time I
had as quick and lively a sense of the value of worldly
comforts, as ever I had ; but only saw them infinitely
overmatched by the worth of Christ's kingdom, and the
propagation of his blessed gospel. The quiet settlement,
the certain place of abode, the tender friendship, which I
thought I might be likely to enjoy in consequence of such
circumstances, appeared as valuable to me, considered ab
solutely and in themselves, as ever before ; but considered
comparatively, they appeared nothing. Compared with
the value and preciousness of an enlargement of Christ's
kingdom, they vanished like the stars before the rising
sun. And sure I am, that although the comfortable ac
commodations of life appeared valuable and dear to me,
yet I did surrender and resign myself, soul and body, to
the service of God, and promotion of Christy kingdom :

though it should be in the loss of them all. And I could
not do any other, because I could not will or choose any
other. I was constrained, and yet chose, to say, ' Farewell,
friends and earthly comforts, the dearest of them all, the
very dearest, if the Lord calls for it ; adieu, adieu ; I will
spend my life, to my latest moments, in caves and dens of
the earth, if the kingdom of Christ may thereby be ad
vanced.' I found extraordinary freedom at this time in
pouring out my soul to God, for' his cause ; and especially
that his kingdom might be extended among the Indians,
far remote ; and I had a great and strong hope, that God
would do it. I continued wrestling with God in prayer
for my dear little flock here ; and more especially for the
Indians elsewhere ; as well as for dear friends in one place
and another ; till it was bed-time, and I feared I should
hinder the family, &c. But oh, with what reluctancy did
I find myself obliged to consume time in sleep ! I longed
to be as aflame of fire, continually glowing in the divine
service, preaching and building up Christ s kingdom, to
my latest, my dying moment.
" Friday, May 23. In the morning was in the same
frame of mind as in the evening before. The glory of
Christ's kingdom so much outshone the pleasure of earth
ly accommodations and enjoyments, that they appeared
comparatively nothing, though in themselves good and
desirable. My soul was melted in secret meditation
and prayer, and I found myself divorced from any part in
this world : so that in those affairs that seemed of the
greatest importance to me, in respect of the present life,
and those wherein the tender powers ofthe mind are most
sensibly touched, I could only say, ' The will of the Loid
be done.' But just the same things that I felt the evening
before, I felt now ; and found the same freedom in prayer
for the people of my charge, for the propagation of the
gospel among the Indians, and for the enlargement aud
spiritual welfare of Zion in general, and my dear friends
in particular, now, as I did then ; and longed to burn out
in one continued flame for God. Retained much of the
same frame through the day. In the evening was visited
by my brother John Brainerd ; the first visit I have ever
received from any near relative since I have been a mis
sionary. Felt the same frame of spirit in the evening as
in the morning ; and found that ' it was good for me to
draw near to God,' and leave all my concerns and burdens
with him. Was enlarged and refreshed in pouring out my
soul for the propagation of the gospel of the Redeemer
among the distant tribes of Indians. Blessed be God. If
ever I filled up a day with studies and devotion, I was
enabled so to fill up this day.
" Saturday, May 24.  Enjoyed this day something
of the same frame of mind as I felt the day before."
Lord's day, May 25. See the public Journal. — This
week, at least the former part of it, he was in a very weak
state : but yet seems to have been free from melancholy,
which often had attended the failing of his Dodily strength.
He from time to time speaks of comfort and inward re
freshment, this week. — Lord's day, June 1 . See the pub
lic Journal.
" Monday, June 2. In the evening enjoyed some free
dom in secret prayer and meditation.
" Tuesday, June 3. My soul rejoiced, early in the
morning, to think, that all things were at God's disposal.
Oh, it pleased me to leave them there 1 Felt afterwards
much as I did on Thursday evening, May 22, last ; and
continued in this frame for several hours. Walked out
into the wilderness, and enjoyed freedom, fervency, and
comfort in prayer ; and again enjoyed the same in the
evening. " Wednesday, June 4. Spent the day in writing, and
enjoyed some comfort, satisfaction, and freedom in my
work. In the evening I was favoured with a sweet re
freshing frame of soul in secret prayer and meditation.
Prayer was now wholly turned into praise, and I could do
little else but try to adore and bless the living God. The
wonders of his grace displayed in gathering to himself a
church among the poor Indians here, were the subject
matter of my meditation, and the occasion of exciting my
soul to praise and bless his name. • My soul was scarce
ever more disposed to inquire, ' What I should render to
God for all his benefits,' than at this time. Oh, I was

368

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

brought into a strait, a sweet and happy strait, to know
what to do ! I longed to make some returns to God ; but
found I had nothing to return : I could only rejoice, that
God had done the work himself; and that none in heaven
or earth might pretend to share the honour of it with him.
I could only be glad, that God's declarative glory was ad
vanced by the conversion of these souls, and that it was to
the enlargement of his kingdom in the world : but saw I
was so poor, that I had nothing to offer to him. My soul
and body, through grace, I could cheerfully surrender to
him : but it appeared to me, this was rather a cumber
than a gift ; and nothing could I do to glorify his dear and
blessed name. Yet I was glad at heart that he was un
changeably possessed of glory and blessedness. Oh that
he might be adored and praised by all his intelligent crea
tures, to the utmost of their power and capacities ! My
soul would have rejoiced to see others praise him, though
I could do nothing towards it myself."
The next day he speaks of his being subject to some de
gree of melancholy ; but of being somewhat relieved in
the evening. — Friday, June 6. See the public Journal.
" Saturday, June 7. Rode to Freehold to assist Mr.
Tennent in the administration of the Lord's supper. In
the afternoon preached from Psal. lxxiii. 28. ' But it is
good for me to draw near to God,' &c. God gave me
some freedom and warmth in my discourse ; and I trust
his presence was in the assembly. Was comfortably com
posed, and enjoyed a thankful frame of spirit ; and my
soul was grieved that I could not render something to God
for his benefits bestowed. O that I could be swallowed
up in his praise !
" Lord's day, June 8. Spent much time, in the morning,
in secret duties ; but between hope and fear, respecting
the enjoyment of God in the business of the day then be
fore us. Was agreeably entertained in the forenoon, by a
discourse from Mr. Tennent, and felt somewhat melted
and refreshed. In the season of communion, enjoyed
some comfort; and especially in serving one of the tables.
Blessed be the Lord, it was a time qf refreshing to me, and
I trust to many others. A number of my dear people sat
down by themselves at the last table ; at which time God
seemed to be in the midst of them.  And the thoughts
of what God had done among them were refreshing and
melting to me. In the afternoon God enabled me to
preach with uncommon freedom, from 2 Cor. v. 20. 'Now
then we are ambassadors for Christ,' &c. Through the
great goodness of God, 1 was favoured with a constant
flow of pertinent matter, and proper expressions, from the
beginning to the end of my discourse. In the evening I
could not but rejoice in God, and bless him for the ma
nifestations of grace in the day past. Oh, it was a sweet
and solemn day and evening! a season of comfort to the
godly, and of awakening to some souls. Oh that I could
praise the Lord !
" Monday, June 9. Enjoyed some sweetness in secret
duties. — Preached the concluding sermon from Gen. v. 24.
' And Enoch walked with God,' &c. God gave me en
largement and fervency in my discourse ; so that I was
enabled to speak with plainness and power; and God's
presence seemed to be in the assembly. Praised be the
Lord, it was a sweet meeting, a desirable assembly. I
found my strength renewed, and lengthened out, even to a
wonder ; so that I felt much stronger at the conclusion
than in the beginning of this sacramental solemnity. I
have great reason to bless God for this solemnity, wherein
I have found assistance in addressing others, and sweet
ness in my own soul."
On Tuesday he found himself spent and his spirits ex
hausted by his late labours ; and on Wednesday complains
of vapoury disorders, and dejection of spirit, and of enjoy
ing but little comfort or spirituality.
" Thursday, June 12. In the evening enjoyed freedom
of mind, and some sweetness in secret prayer : it was a
desirable season to me ; my soul was enlarged in prayer
for my own dear people, and for the enlargement of Christ's
kingdom, and especially for the propagation of the gospel
among the Indians, back in the wilderness. Was refresh
ed in prayer for dear friends in New England, and else-
.* The public Journal that has been so often referred to, concludes with

where : I found it sweet to pray at this time ; and could
with all my heart say, ' It is good for me to draw near to
God.' " Friday, June 1 3.  1 came away from the meeting
of the Indians this day, rejoicing and blessing God for his
grace manifested at this season.
" Saturday, June 14. Rode to Kingston, to assist the
Rev. Mr. Wales in the administration of the Lord's sup
per. In the afternoon preached ; but almost fainted in
pulpit: yet God strengthened me when I was just gone,
and enabled me to speak his word with freedom, fervency,
and application to the conscience. And, praised be the
Lord, ' out of weakness I was made strong.' I enjoy
ed some sweetness in and after public worship ; but wiis
extremely tired. Oh, how many are the mercies of the
Lord ! ' To them that have no might, he increaseth
strength.' " Lord's day, June 15. Was in a dejected, spiritless
frame, that I could not hold up my head, nor look any
body in the face. Administered the Lord's supper at Mr.
Wales's desire ; and found myself in a good measure un
burdened and relieved of my pressing load, when I came
to ask a blessing on the elements : here God gave me en
largement, and a tender affectionate sense of spiritual
things ; so that it was a season of comfort, in some mea
sure, to me, and, I trust, more so to others. In the after
noon preached to a vast multitude, from Rev. xxii. 17.
' And whosoever will,' &c. God helped me to offer a testi
mony for himself, and to leave sinners inexcusable in neg
lecting his grace. I was enabled to speak with such free
dom, fluency, and clearness, as commanded the attention
of the great. Was extremely tired, in the evening, but
enjoyed composure and sweetness.
"Monday, June 16. Preached again ; and God help
ed me amazingly, so that this was a sweet, refreshing sea
son to my soul and others. Oh, for ever blessed be God
for help afforded at this time, when my body was so weak,
and while there was so large an assembly to hear. Spent
the afternoon in a comfortable, agreeable manner."
The next day was spent comfortably. — On Wednesday
he went to a meeting of ministers at Hopewell. — Thurs
day, June 19. See his public Journal.* — On Friday and
Saturday he was very much amiss ; but yet preached to
his people on Saturday. His illness continued on the
subbath ; but he preached, notwithstanding, to his people
both parts of the day ; and after the public worship was
ended, he endeavoured to apply divine truths to the con
sciences of some, and addressed them personally for that
end ; several were in tears, and some appeared much af
fected. But he was extremely wearied with the services of
the day, and was so ill at night that he could have no bo
dily rest ; but remarks, that " God was his support, and
that he was not left destitute of comfort in him." On
Monday he continued very ill, but speaks of his mind be
ing calm and composed, resigned to the divine dispensa
tions, and content with his feeble state. By the account
he gives of himself, the remaining part of this week, he
continued very feeble, for the most part dejected in mind.
He enjoyed no great freedom nor sweetness in spiritual
things ; excepting that for some very short spaces of time
he had refreshment and encouragement, which engaged his
heart on divine things ; and sometimes his heart was melt
ed with spiritual affection.
" Lord's day, June 29. Preached, both parts of the day,
from John xiv. 19. ' Yet a little while, and the world
seeth me no more,' &c. God was pleased to assist me, to
afford me both freedom and power, especially towards
the close of my discourses, both forenoon and afternoon.
God's power appeared in the assembly, in both exercises.
Numbers of God's people were refreshed and melted with
divine things ; one or two comforted, who had been long
under distress : convictions, in divers instances, powerfully
revived ; and one man in years much awakened, who had
not long frequented our meeting, and appeared before as
stupid as a stock. God amazingly renewed and lengthened
out my strength. I was so spent at noon, that I could
scarce walk, and all my joints trembled ; so that I could
not sit, nor so much as hold my hand still : and yet God
the account of this (ley.

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369

I

strengthened me to preach with power in the afternoon ;
although I had given out word to my people that I did
not expect to be able to do it. Spent some time after
wards in conversing, particularly, with several persons,
about their spiritual state ; and had some satisfaction con
cerning one or two. Prayed afterwards with a sick child,
and gave a word of exhortation. Was assisted in all my
work. Blessed be God. Returned home with more
health than I went out with; although my linen was
wringing wet upon me, from a little after ten in the morn
ing till past five in the afternoon. My spirits also were
considerably refreshed ; and my soul rejoiced in hope, that
I had through grace done something for God. ..In the
evening walked out, and enjoyed a sweet season in secret
prayer and praise. But oh, 1 found the truth of the
isalmist's words, ' My goodness extendeth not to thee!'
could not make any returns to God ; I longed to live
only to him, and to be in tune for his praise and service
for ever. Oh, for spirituality and holy fervency, that I
might spend and be spent for God to my latest moment !
" Monday, June 30. Spent the day in writing ; but
under much weakness and disorder. Felt the labours of
the preceding day ; although my spirits were so refreshed
the evening before, that I was not then sensible of my
being spent.
" Tuesday, July 1. In the afternoon visited and
preached to my people, from Heb. ix. 27. 'And as it is
appointed unto men once to die,' &c. on occasion of some
persons lying at the point of death, in my congregation.
God gave me some assistance ; and his word made some
impressions on the audience, in general. This was an
agreeable and comfortable evening to mv soul : mv spirits
were somewhat refreshed, with a small degree of freedom
and help enjoyed in my work."
On Wednesday he went to Newark, to a meeting of the
Presbytery : complains of lowness of spirits ; and greatly
laments his spending his time so unfruitfully. The re
maining part of the week he spent there and at Elizabeth-
town ; and speaks of comfort and divine assistance from
day to day ; but yet greatly complains for want of more
spirituality. "Lord's day, July 6. [At Elizabeth-town] Enjoyed
some composure and serenity of mind in the morning :
heard Mr. Dickinson preach in the forenoon, and was
refreshed with his discourse ; was in a melting frame
some part of the time of sermon : partook of the Lord's
supper, and enjoyed some sense of divine things in that
ordinance. In the afternoon I preached from Ezek.
xxxiii. 11. 'As I live, saith the Lord God,' &c. God
favoured me with freedom and fervency ; and helped me
to plead his cause beyond my own power.
" Monday, July 7. My spirits were considerably re
freshed and raised in the morning. There is no comfort,
I find, in any enjoyment, without enjoying God, and
being engaged in his service. In the evening had the
most agreeable conversation that ever I remember in all
my life, upon God's being all in all, and all enjoyments
being just that to us which God makes them, and no
more. It is good to begin and end with God. Oh, how
does a sweet solemnity lay a foundation for true pleasure
and happiness !
" Tuesday, July 8. Rode home, and enjoyed some
agreeable meditations by the way.
" Wednesday, July 9. Spent the day in writing ; en
joyed some comfort and refreshment of spirit in my even
ing retirement.
" Thursday, July 10. Spent most of the day in writing.
Towards night rode to Mr. Tennent's ; enjoyed some
agreeable conversation : went home, in the evening, in a
solemn, sweet frame of mind ; was refreshed in secret
duties, longed to live wholly and only for God, and saw
plainly there was nothing in the world worthy of my
affection ; so that my heart was dead to all below ; yet
not through dejection, as at some times, but from views
of a better inheritance.
"Friday, July 11. Was in a calm, composed frame
in the morning, especially in the season of my secret re
tirement. I think I was well pleased with the will of
God, whatever it was, or should be, in all respects I had
then any thought of. Intending to administer the Lord's
VOL. ii. 2 B

supper the next Lord's day, I looked to God for his
presence and assistance upon that occasion ; but felt a
disposition to say, 'The will of the Lord be done,' whe
ther it be to give me assistance, or not. Spent some little
time in writing : visited the Indians, and spent some time
in serious conversation with them ; thinking it not best to
preach, many of them being absent.
" Saturday, July 12. This day was spent in fasting and
prayer by my congregation, as preparatory to the sacra
ment. I discoursed, both parts of the day", from Rom. iv.
25. 'Who was delivered for our offences,' &c. God
gave me some assistance in my discourses, and something
of divine power attended the word ; so that this was an
agreeable season. Afterwards led them to a solemn re
newal of their covenant, and fresh dedication of them
selves to God. This was a season both of solemnity and
sweetness, and God seemed to be 'in the midst of us.'
Returned to my lodgings, in the evening, in a comfortable
frame of mind.
"Lord's day, July 13. In the forenoon discoursed on
the bread qf life, from John vi. 35. God gave me some
assistance, in part of my discourse especially ; and there
appeared some tender affection in the assembly under
divine truths; my soul also was somewhat refreshed.
Administered the sacrament of the Lord's supper to thirty-
one persons of the Indians. God seemed to be present
in this ordinance ; the communicants were sweetly melted
and refreshed, most of them. Oh, how they melted, even
when the elements were first uncovered ! There was
scarcely a dry eye among them when I took off the linen,
and showed them the symbols of Christ's broken body. 
Having rested a little, after the administration of the
sacrament, I visited the communicants, and found them
generally in a sweet, loving frame ; not unlike what ap
peared among them on the former sacramental occasion,
on April 27. In the afternoon, discoursed upon coming
to Christ, and the satisfaction of those who do so, from
the same verse I insisted on in the forenoon. This was
likewise an agreeable season, a season of much tenderness,
affection, and enlargement in divine service ; and God, I
am persuaded, crowned our assembly with his divine pre
sence. I returned home much spent, yet rejoicing in the
goodness of God.
" Monday, July 1 4 . Went to my people, and discoursed
to them from Psal. cxix. 106. ' I have sworn, and I will
perform it,' &c. Observed, 1. That all God's judgments
or commandments are righteous. 2. That God's people
have sworn to keep them ; and this they do especially at
the Lord's table. There appeared to be a powerful divine
influence on the assembly, and considerable melting under
the word. Afterwards I led them to a renewal of their
covenant before God, (that they would watch over them
selves and one another, lest they should fall into sin and
dishonour the name of Christ,) just as I did on Monday,
April 28. This transaction was attended with great so
lemnity ; and God seemed to own it by exciting in them
a fear and jealousy of themselves, lest they should sin
against God ; so that the presence of God seemed to be
amongst us in this conclusion of the sacramental solem
nity." The next day he set out on a journey towards Phila
delphia; from whence he did not return till Saturday.
He went this journey, and spent the week, under a great
degree of illness of body, and dejection of mind.
" Lord's day, July 20. Preached twice to my people,
from John xvii. 24. ' Father, I will that they also, whom
thou hast given me, be with me where I am ; that they
may behold my glory, which thou hast given me.' Was
helped to discourse with great clearness and plainness in
the forenoon. In the afternoon, enjoyed some tenderness,
and spake with some influence. Divers were in tears ;
and some, to appearance, in distress.
" Monday, July 21 . Preached to the Indians, chiefly for
the sake of some strangers. Then proposed my design of
taking a journey speedily to Susquehannah : exhorted
my people to pray for me, that God would be with me in
that journey, &c. Then chose divers persons of the con
gregation to travel with me. Afterwards spent some
time in discoursing to the strangers, and was somewhat
encouraged with them. Took care of my people's secular

370

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

business, and was not a little exercised with it. Had some
degree of composure and comfort in secret retirement.
" Tuesday, July 22. Was in a dejected frame most of
the day : wanted to wear out life, and have it at an end ;
but had some desires of living to God, and wearing out
life for him. Oh that I co'dd indeed do so ! "
The next day, he went to Elizabeth-town, to a meet
ing of the Presbytery ; and spent this, and Thursday, and
the former part of Friday, under a very great degree of
melancholy, and exceeding gloominess of mind ; not
through any fear of future punishment, but as being dis
tressed with a senselessness of all good, so that the whole
world appeared empty and gloomy to him. But in the
latter part of Friday he was greatly relieved and com
forted. " Saturday, July 26. Wras comfortable in the' morning ;
my countenance and heart were not sad, as in days past ;
enjoyed some sweetness in lifting up my heart to God.
Rode home to my people, and was in a comfortable, plea
sant frame by the way ; my spirits were much relieved of
their burden, and I felt free to go through all difficulties
and labours in my Master's service.
" Lord's day, July 27. Discoursed to my people, in the
forenoon, from Luke xii. 37. on the duty and benefit of
watching : God helped me in the latter part of my dis
course, and the power of God appeared in the assembly.
In the afternoon discoursed from Luke xiii. 25. ' When
once the master of the house is risen up,' &c. Here also
I enjoyed some assistance, and the Spirit of God seemed
to attend what was spoken, so that there was a great so
lemnity, and some tears among Indians and others.
" Monday, July 28. Was very weak, and scarce able to
perform any business at all ; but enjoyed sweetness and
comfort in prayer, both morning and evening ; and was
composed and comfortable through the day : my mind
was intense, and my heart fervent, at least in some de
gree, in secret duties ; and I longed to spend and be spent
for God.
" Tuesday, July 29. My mind was cheerful, and free
from those melancholy damps that I am often exercised
with : had freedom in looking up to God at sundry times
in the day. In the evening I enjoyed a comfortable sea
son in secret prayer ; was helped to plead with God for
my own dear people, that he would carry on his own
blessed work among them ; was assisted also in praying
for the divine presence to attend me in my intended jour
ney to Susquehannah ; and was helped to remember dear
brethren and friends in New England. I scarce knew how
to leave the throne of grace, and it grieved me that I was
obliged to go to bed ; I longed to do something for God,
but knew not how. Blessed be God for this freedom from
dejection. " Wednesday, July 30. Was uncommonly comfortable,
both in body and mind ; in the forenoon especially : my
mind was solemn, I was assisted in my work, and God
seemed to be near to me ; so that the day was as comfort
able as most I have enjoyed for some time. In the even
ing was favoured with assistance in secret prayer, and felt
much as I did the evening before. Blessed be God for
that freedom I then enjoyed at the throne of grace, for
myself, my people, and my dear friends. It is good for
me to draw near to God"
He seems to have continued very much in the same free,
comfortable state of mind the next day.
" Friday, Aug. 1 . In the evening enjoyed a sweet season
in secret prayer ; clouds of darkness and perplexing care
were sweetly scattered, and nothing anxious remained.
Oh, how serene was my mind at this season ! how free
from that distracting concern I have often felt ! ' Thy
will be done,' was a petition sweet to my soul ; and if
God had bidden me choose for myself in any affair, I
should have chosen rather to have referred the choice to
him ; for I saw he was infinitely wise, and could not do
any thing amiss, as I was in danger of doing. Was as
sisted in prayer for my dear flock, that God would pro
mote his own work among them, and that God would go
with me in my intended journey to Susquehannah : was
helped to remember dear friends in New England, and my
dear brethren in the ministry. I found enough in the
sweet duty of prayer to have engaged me to continue in it

the whole night, would my bodily state have admitted of
it. Oh, how sweet it is to be enabled heartily to say,
Lord, not my will, but thine be done !
" Saturday, Aug. 2. Near night preached from Matt.
xi. 29. ' Take my yoke upon you,' &c. Was considerably
helped ; and the presence of God seemed to be somewhat
remarkably in the assembly ; divine truths made powerful
impressions, both upon saints and sinners. Blessed be
God for such a revival among us. In the evening was
very weary, but found my spirits supported and refreshed.
" Lord's day, Aug. 3. Discoursed to my people, in the
forenoon, from Col. iii. 4. and observed, that Christ is the
f believer's life. God helped me, and gave me his presence
in this discourse ; and it was a season of considerable
£ower in the assembly. In the afternoon preached from
.uke xix. 41, 42. '.Arid when he was come near, he be
held the city,' &c. I enjoyed some assistance ; though
not so much as in the forenoon. In the evening I enjoyed
freedom and sweetness in secret prayer ; God enlarged my
heart, freed me from melancholy damps, and gave me sa
tisfaction in drawing near to himself. Oh that my soul
could magnify the Lord, for these seasons qf composure and
resignation to his will !
" Monday, Aug. 4. Spent the day in writing ; enjoyed
much freedom and assistance in my work : was in a com
posed and comfortable frame most of the day ; and in the
evening enjoyed some sweetness in prayer. Blessed be
God, my spirits were yet up, and I was free from sinking
damps ; as I have been in general ever since I came from
Elizabeth-town last. Oh what a mercy is this !
" Tuesday, Aug. 5. Towards night preached at the fune
ral of one of my Christians, from Isa. lvii. 2. ' He shall enter
into peace,' &c. I was oppressed with the nervous head
ache, and considerably dejected : however, had a little free
dom some part of the time I was discoursing. Was
extremely weary in the evening ; but notwithstanding, en
joyed some liberty and cheerfulness of mind in prayer ;
and found the dejection that I feared, much removed, and
.ny spirits considerably refreshed."
He continued in a very comfortable, cheerful frame of
mind the next day, with his heart enlarged in the service
of God.
" Thursday, Aug. 7. Rode to my house, where I spent
the last winter, in order to bring some things I needed for
my Susquehannah journey : was refreshed to see that
place, which God so marvellously visited with the showers
of his grace. Oh how amazing did the power qf God often
appear there ! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not
all his benefits."
The next day he speaks of liberty, enlargement, and
sweetness of mind in prayer and religious conversation.
" Saturday, Aug. 9. In the afternoon visited my people ;
set their affairs in order, as much as possible, and con
trived for them the management of their worldly business ;
discoursed to them in a solemn manner, and concluded
with prayer. Was composed and comfortable in the even
ing, and somewhat fervent in secret prayer; had some
sense and view of the eternal world, and found a serenity
of mind. Oh that I could magnify the Lord for any free
dom he affords me in prayer !
" Lord's day, Aug. 10. Discoursed to my people, both
Earts of the day, from Acts iii. 19. ' Repent ye, therefore,'
;c. In discoursing of repentance in the forenoon, God
helped me, so that my discourse was searching; some
were in tears, both of the Indians and white people, and
the word of God was attended with some power. In the
intermission I was engaged in discoursing to some in order
to their baptism ; as well as with one who had then lately
met with some comfort, after spiritual trouble and distress.
In the afternoon was somewhat assisted again, though
weak and weary. Afterwards baptized six persons ; three
adults, and three children. Was in a comfortable frame
in the evening, and ejijoyed some satisfaction in secret
prayer. I scarce ever in my life felt myself so full of ten
derness as this day.
" Monday, Aug. 11. Being about to set out on a jour
ney to Susquehannah the next dav, with leave of Provi
dence, I spent some time this day in prayer with mv
people, that God would bless and succeed my intended
journey ; that he would send forth his blessed Spirit with

Part VII.

A. D. 1745, 1746. MT. 28, 29.

371

his word, and set up his kingdom among the poor Indians
in the wilderness. While I was opening and applying
part of the 1 1 Oth and 2d Psalms, the power qf God seemed
to descend on the assembly in some measure ; and while
I was making the first prayer, numbers were melted, and I
found some affectionate enlargement of soui myself.
Preached from Acts iv. 31. ' And when they had prayed,
the place was shaken,' &c. God helped me, and my in
terpreter also : there was a shaking and melting among us ;
and divers, I doubt not, were in some measure ' filled with
the Holy Ghost.' Afterwards Mr. Macknight prayed : I
then opened the two last stanzas of the 72d Psalm ; at
which time God was present with us ; especially while I
insisted upon the promise of all nations blessing the great
Redeemer. My soul was refreshed to think, that this day,
this blessed glorious season, should surely come; and I
trust, numbers of my detv people were also refreshed.
Afterwards prayed ; had some freedom, but was almost
spent : then walked out, and left my people to carry on
religious exercises among themselves : they prayed repeat
edly, and sung, while I rested and refreshed myself.
Afterwards went to the meeting; prayed with and dis
missed the assembly. Blessed be God, this has been a
day of grace. There were many tears and affectionate sobs
among us this day. In the evening my soul was refresh
ed in prayer : enjoyed liberty at the throne of grace, in
praying for mv people and friends, and the church of God
in genera! . Bless the Lord, 0 my soul."
The next day he set out on his journey towards Susque
hannah, and six of his christian Indians with him, whom
he had chosen out of his congregation, as those that he
judged most fit to assist him in the business he was going
upon. He took his way through Philadelphia; intending
to go to Susquehannah river, far down, where it is settled
by the white people, below the country inhabited by the
Indians ; and so to travel up the river to the Indian habi
tations. For although this was much farther about, yet
hereby he avoided the huge mountains, and hideous wil
derness, that must be crossed in the nearer way ; which in
time past he found to be extremely difficult and fatiguing.
He rode this week as far as Charlestown, a place of that
name about thirty miles westward of Philadelphia ; where
he arrived on Friday : and in his way hither was, for the
most part, in a composed, comfortable state of mind.
" Saturday, Aug. 16. [At Charlestown] It being a day
kept by the people of the place where I now was, as pre
paratory to the celebration of the Lord's supper, I tarried ;
heard Mr. Treat preach ; and then preached myself. God
gave me some good degree of freedom, and helped me to
discourse with warmth, and application to the conscience.
Afterwards I was refreshed in spirit, though much tired ;
and spent the evening agreeably, having some freedom in
prayer, as well as christian conversation.
" Lord's day, Aug. 17. Enjoyed liberty, composure,
and satisfaction, in the secret duties of the morning: had
my heart somewhat enlarged in prayer for dear friends, as
well as for myself. In the forenoon attended Mr. Treat's
preaching, partook of the Lord's supper, five of my people
also communicating in this holy ordinance : I enjoyed
some enlargement and outgoing of soul in this season. In
the afternoon preached from Ezek. xxxiii. 11. ' Say unto
them, As I live, saith the Lord God,' &c. Enjoyed not so
much sensible assistance as the day before : however, was
helped to some fervency in addressing immortal souls.
Was somewhat confounded in the evening, because I
thought I had done little or nothing for God ; yet enjoyed
some refreshment of spirit in christian conversation and
prayer. Spent the evening, till near midnight, in religious
exercises ; and found my bodily strength, which was much
spent when I came from' the public worship, something re
newed before I went to bed.
" Monday, Aug. 18. Rode on my way towards Pax-
ton, upon Susquehannah river. Felt my spirits sink, to
wards night, so that I had little comfort.
" Tuesday, Aug. 19. Rode forward still ; and at night
lodged by the side of Susquehannah. Was weak and dis
ordered both this and the preceding day, and found my
spirits considerably damped, meeting with none that I
thought godly people.
" Wednesday, Aug. 20. Having lain in a cold sweat all
2 B 2

night, I coughed much bloody matter this morning, and
was under great disorder of body, and not a little melan
choly ; but what gave me some encouragement, was, I had
a secret hope that I might speedily get a dismission from
earth, and all its toils and sorrows. Rode this day to one
Chambers', upon Susquehannah, and there lodged. Wai:
much afflicted, in the evening, with an ungodly crew,
drinking, swearing, &c. Oh, what a hell would it be, to
be numbered with the ungodly ! Enjoyed some agreeable
conversation with a traveller, who seemed to have some
relish of true religion.
" Thursday, Aug. 21. Rode up the river about fifteen
miles, and there lodged, in a family that appeared quite
destitute of God. Laboured to discourse with the man
about the life of religion, but found him very artful in
evading such conversation. Oh, what a death it is to
some to hear of the things of God ! Was out of my ele
ment ; but was not so dejected as at some times.
" Friday, Aug. 22. Continued my course up the river ;
my people now being with me, who before were parted
from me ; travelled above all the English settlements ; at
night lodged in the open woods ; and slept with more com
fort than while among an ungodly company of white
people. Enjoyed some liberty in secret prayer this even
ing ; and was helped to remember dear friends, as well as
my dear flock, and the church of God in general.
" Saturday, Aug. 23. Arrived at the Indian town, call
ed Shaumoking, near night. Was not so dejected as
formerly ; but yet somewhat exercised. Felt somewhat
composed in the evening; enjoyed some freedom in leaving
my all with God. Through the great goodness of God, I
enjoyed some liberty of mind; and was not distressed
with a despondency, as frequently heretofore.
" Lord's day, Aug. 24. Towards noon, visited some of
the Delawares, and discoursed with them about Chris
tianity. In the afternoon discoursed to the king, and
others, upon divine things ; who seemed to dispose to hear.
Spent most ofthe day in these exercises. In the evening
enjoyed some comfort and satisfaction ; and especially had
some sweetness in secret prayer. This duty was made so
agreeable to me, that I loved to walk abroad and repeat
edly engage in it. Oh, how comfortable is a little glimpse
qf God !
" Monday, Aug. 25. Spent most of the day in writing.
Sent out my people that were with me, to talk with the
Indians, and contract a friendship and familiarity with
them, lhat I might have a better opportunity of treating
with them about Christianity. Some good seemed to be
done by their visit this day, divers appeared willing to
hearken to Christianity. My spirits were a little refreshed
this evening ; and I found some liberty and satisfaction in
prayer. " Tuesday, Aug. 26. About noon discoursed to a con
siderable number of Indians : God helped me, I am per
suaded : I was enabled to speak with much plainness, and
some warmth and power. The discourse had impression
upon some, and made them appearvery serious. I thought
things now appeared as encouraging, as they did at Cross-
weeks. At the time' of my first visit to those Indians, I
was a little encouraged : I pressed things with all my
might; and called out my people, who were then present,
to give in tlieir testimony for God ; which they did. To
wards night was refreshed; felt a heart to pray for the
setting up of God's kingdom here ; as well as for my dear
congregation below, and my dear friends elsewhere.
" Wednesday, Aug. 27. There having been a thick
smoke in the house where I lodged all night before, where
by 1 was almost choked, I was this morning distressed
with pains in my head and neck, and could have no rest.
In the morning the smoke was still the same ; and a cold
easterly storm gathering, I could neither live within doors
nor without any long time together. I was pierced with
the rawness of the air abroad, and in the house distressed
with the smoke. I was this day very vapoury, and lived in
great distress, and had not health enough to do any thing
to any purpose.
" Thursday, Aug. 28. In the forenoon I was under
great concern of mind about my work. Was visited by
some who desired to hear me preach ; discoursed to them,
in the afternoon, with some fervency, and laboured to

372

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

persuade them to turn to God. Was full of concern for
the kingdom of Christ, and found some enlargement of
soul in prayer, both in secret and in my family. Scarce
ever saw more clearly, than this day, that it is God's work
to convert souls, and especially poor heathens. I knew I
could not touch them ; I saw I could only speak to dry
bones, but could give them no sense of what I said. My
eyes were up to God for help : I could say, the work was
his ; and if done, the glory would be his.
" Friday, Aug. 29. Felt the same concern of mind as
the day before." Enjoyed some freedom in prayer, and a
satisfaction to leave all with God. Travelled to the
Delawares, found few at home : felt poorly, but was able
to spend some time alone in reading God s word and in
prayer, and enjoyed some sweetness in these exercises. In
the evening was assisted repeatedly in prayer, and found
some comfort in coming to the throne of grace.
" Saturday, Aug. 30. Spent the forenoon in visiting a
trader, that came down the river sick ; who appeared as
ignorant as any Indian. In the afternoon spent some time
in writing, reading, and prayer.
" Lord's day, Aug. 31. Spent much time in the morn
ing in secret duties : found a weight upon my spirits, and
could not but cry to God with concern and engagement of
soul. Spent some time also in reading and expounding
God's word to my dear family, that was with me, as well
as in singing and prayer with them. Afterwards, spake
the word of God to some few of the Susquehannah
Indians. In the afternoon felt very weak and feeble.
Near night was something refreshed in mind, with some
views of things relating to my great work. Oh, how
heavy is my work, when fuith cannot take hold of an
almighty arm, for the performance of it ! Many times have
I been ready to sink in this case. Blessed be God, that I
may repair to a full fountain.
" Monday, Sept.'l. Set out on a journey towards a
place called The great island, about fifty miles distant
from Shaumoking, in the north-western branch of Susque
hannah. Travelled some part of the way, and at night
lodged in the woods. Was exceeding feeble this day, and
sweat much the night following.
" Tuesday, Sept. 2. Rode forward ; but no faster than
my people went on foot. Was very weak, on this as well
as the preceding days. I was so feeble and faint, that I
feared it would kill me to lie out in the open air ; and
some of our company being parted from us, so that we
had now no axe with us, I had no way but to climb into
a young pine-tree, and with my knife to lop the branches,
and so made a shelter from the dew. But the evening
being cloudy, and very likely for rain, I was still under
fears of being extremely exposed : sweat much in the
night, so that my linen was almost wringing wet all night.
I scarce ever was more weak and weary than this evening,
when I was able to sit up at all. This was a melancholy
situation I was in ; but I endeavoured to quiet myself
with considerations of the possibility of my being in much
worse circumstances, amongst enemies, &c.
" Wednesday, Sept. 3. Rode to the Delaware-town;
found divers drinking and drunken. Discoursed with
some of the Indians about Christianity ; observed my
interpreter much engaged and assisted in his work ; some
few persons seemed to hear with great earnestness and
engagement of soul. About noon rode to a small town
of Shauwaunoes, about eight miles distant ; spent an hour
or two there, and returned to the Delaware-town, and
lodged there. Was scarce ever more confounded with a
sense of my own unfruitfulness and unfitness for my work,
than now. Oh, what a dead, heartless, barren, unprofit
able wretch did I now see myself to be ! My spirits were
so low, and my bodily strength so wasted, that I could do
nothing at all. At length, being much overdone, lay
down on a buffalo-skin ; but sweat much the whole night.
" Thursday, Sept. 4. Discoursed with the Indians, in
the morning, about Christianity; my interpreter, after
wards, carrying on the discourse to a considerable length.
Some few appeared well-disposed, and somewhat affected.
Left this place, and returned towards Shaumoking ; and
at night lodged in the place where I lodged the Monday
night before : was in very uncomfortable circumstances in
the evening, my people being belated, and not coming to

me till past ten at night; so that I had no fire to dress
any victuals, or to keep me warm, or keep off wild beasts ;
and I was scarce ever more weak and worn out in all my
life. However, I lay down and slept before my people
came up, expecting nothing else but to spend the whole
night alone, and without fire.
" Friday, Sept. 5. Was exceeding weak, so that I
could scarcely ride ; it seemed sometimes as if I must fall
off from my horse, and lie in the open woods : however,
got to Shaumoking towards night : felt something of a
spirit of thankfulness, that God had so far returned me :
was refreshed to see one of my Christians, whom I left
here in my late excursion.
" Saturday, Sept. 6. Spent the day in a very weak
state; coughing and spitting blood, and having little
appetite to any food I had with me : was able to do very
little, except discourse a while of divine things to my own
people, and to some few I met with. Had, by this time,
very little life or heart to speak for God, through feeble
ness of body, and flatness of spirits. Was scarcely ever
more ashamed and confounded in myself, than now. I
was sensible, that there were numbers of God's people,
who knew I was then out upon a design (or at least the
pretence) of doing something for God, and in his cause,
among the poor Indians ; and they were ready to suppose,
that I was fervent in spirit : but oh, the heartless frame
of mind that I felt filled me with confusion ! Oh (me-
thought) if God's people knew me, as God knows, they
would not think so highly of my zeal and resolution for
God, as perhaps now they do ! I could not but desire they
should see how heartless and irresolute I was, that they
might be undeceived, and ' not think of me above what
they ought to think.' And yet I thought, if they saw the
utmost of my flatness and unfaithfulness, the smallness of
my courage and resolution for God, they would be ready
to shut me out of their doors, as unworthy of the company
or friendship of Christians.
" Lord's day, Sept. 7. Was much in the same weak
state of body, and afflicted frame of mind, as in the pre
ceding day : my soul was grieved, and mourned that I
could do nothing for God. Read and expounded some
part of God's word to my own dear family, and spent
some time in prayer with them ; discoursed also a little to
the pagans : but spent the sabbath with a little comfort.
" Monday, Sept. 8. Spent the forenoon among the
Indians ; in the afternoon left Shaumoking, and returned
down the river a few miles. Had proposed to have tarried
a considerable time longer among the Indians upon
Susquehannah; but was hindered from pursuing my
purpose by the sickness that prevailed there, the weakly
circumstances of my own people that were with me, and
especially my own extraordinary weakness, having been
exercised with great nocturnal sweats, and a coughing up
of blood, in almost the whole of the journey. I was a
great part of the time so feeble and faint, that it seemed as
though I never should be able to reach home ; and at the
same time very destitute of the comforts, and even neces
saries, of life ; at least, what was necessary for one in so
weak a state. In this journey I sometimes was enabled
to speak the word of God with some power, and divine
truths made some impressions on divers that heard me ; so
that several, both men and women, old and young, seemed
to cleave to us, and be well disposed towards Christianity ;
but others mocked and shouted, which damped those who
before seemed friendly, at least some of them. Yet God,
at times, was evidently present, assisting me, my inter
preter, and other dear friends who were with me. God
gave, sometimes, a good degree of freedom in prayer for
the ingathering of souls there ; and I could not but enter
tain a strong hope, that the journey should not be wholly
fruitless. Whether the issue of it would be the setting
up of Christ's kingdom there, or only the drawing of some
few persons down to my congregation in New Jersey ; or
whether they were now only being prepared for some
further attempts, that might be made among them, I did
not determine : but I was persuaded the journey would
not be lost. Blessed be God, that I had any encourage
ment and hope.
" Tuesday, Sept. 9. Rode down the river near thirty
miles. Was extremely weak, much fatigued, and wet with

Part VII.

A. D. 1746, 1747. MT. 28, 29.

373

a thunder-storm. Discoursed with some warmth and
closeness to some poor ignorant souls, on the life and
power of religion ; what were, and what were riot, the
evidences of it. They seemed much astonished when they
saw my Indians ask a blessing and give thanks at din
ner; concluding that a very high evidence of grace in
them : but were astonished when I insisted that neither
that, nor yet secret prayer, was any sure evidence of grace.
Oh the ignorance of the world ! How are some empty
outward forms, that may all be entirely selfish, mistaken
for true religion, infallible evidences of it ! Tlie Lord pity
a deluded world !
" Wednesday, Sept. 10. Rode near twenty miles home
ward. Was much solicited to preach, but was utterly un
able, through bodily weakness. Was extremely overdone
with the heat and showers this day, and coughed up a
considerable quantity of blood.
" Thursday, Sept. 11. Rode homeward; but was very
weak, and sometimes scarce able to ride. Had a very
importunate invitation to preach at a meeting-house I
came by, the people being then gathering ; but could not,
by reason of weakness. Was resigned and composed
under my weakness ; but was much exercised with con
cern for my companions in travel, whom I had left with
much regret, some lame, and some sick.
" Friday, Sept.tl. Rode about fifty miles ; and came
just at night to a christian friend's house, about twenty-five
miles westward from Philadelphia. Was courteously re
ceived, and kindly entertained, and found myself much
refreshed in the midst of my weakness and fatigues.
"Saturday, Sept. 13. Was still agreeably entertained
with christian friendship, and all things necessary for my
weak circumstances. In the afternoon heard Mr. Treat
preach ; and was refreshed in conversation with him in
the evening.
" Lord's day, Sept. 14. At the desire of Mr. Treat and
the people, I preached both parts of the day (but short)
from Luke xiv. 23. ' And the Lord said unto the servant,
go out,' &c. God gave me some freedom and warmth in
my discourse ; and, I trust, helped me in some measure to
labour in singleness of heart. Was much tired in the
evening, but was comforted with the most tender treat
ment Fever met with in my life. My mind through the
whole of this day was exceeding calm ; and I could ask
for nothing in prayer, with any encouragement of soul, but
that ' the will of God might be done.'
"Monday, Sept. 15. Spent the whole day in concert
with Mr. Treat, in endeavours to compose a difference,
subsisting between certain persons in the congregation
where we now were ; and there seemed to be a blessing
on our endeavours. In the evening baptized a child :
was in a calm, composed frame, and enjoyed, I trust, a
spiritual sense of divine things, while administering the
ordinance. Afterwards spent the time in religious con
versation, till late in the night. This was indeed a pleasant,
agreeable evening.
" Tuesday, Sept. 16. Continued still at my friend's
house, about twenty-five miles westward of Philadelphia.
Was very weak, unable to perform any business, and
scarcely able to sit up.
" Wednesday, Sept. 17. Rode into Philadelphia. Still
very weak, and my cough and spitting of blood continued.
Enjoyed some agreeable conversation with friends, but
wanted more spirituality.
" Thursday, Sept. 18. Went from Philadelphia to Mr.
Treat's : was agreeably entertained on the road : and was
in a sweet, composed frame, in the evening.
" Friday, Sept. 19. Rode from Mr. Treat's to Mr.
Stockston's at Prince-town : was extremely weak, but
kindly received and entertained. Spent the evening with
some degree of satisfaction.
" Saturday, Sept. 20. Arrived among my own people,
just at night : found them praying together ; went in, and
* Mr. Shepard, in his Select Cases Resolved, under the first case says as
follows. " I have lately known one very able, wise, and godly, put upon
tbe rack, by him that, envying God's people's peace, knows how to change
himself intc^an angel of light ,- for it being his usual course, in the time of
his health, to make a diary of his hourly life, and finding much benefit by
it, he was in conscience pressed, by the power and delusion of Satan, to
make and take the same daily survey of his life in the time of his sick
ness; by means of which he spent his enfeebled spirits, cast on fuel to fire
his sickness. Had not a friend of his convinced him of his erroneous con-

gave them some account of God's dealings with me and
my companions in the journey ; which seemed affecting
to them. 1 then prayed with them, and thought the divine
presence was amongst us ; divers were melted into tears,
and seemed to have a sense of divine things. Being very
weak, I was obliged soon to repair to my lodgings, and
felt much worn out in the evening. Thus God has
carried me through the fatigues and perils of another
journey to Susquehannah, and returned me again in safety,
though under a great degree of bodily indisposition. Oh
that my soul were truly thankful for renewed instances of
mercy \ Many hardships and distresses I endured in this
journey ; but the Lord supported me under them all."

PART VIII.

AFTER HIS RETURN FROM HIS LAST JOURNEY TO SUS-
QUEHANNAH, UNTIL HIS DEATH.
Hitherto Mr. Brainerd had kept a constant diary^
giving an account of what passed from day to day, with
very little interruption : but henceforward his diary is
very much interrupted by his illness; under which he
was often brought so low, as either not to be capable of
writing, or not well able to bear the burden of a care so
constant, as was requisite, to recollect every evening what
had passed in the day, and digest it, and set down an or
derly account of it in writing. However, his diary was
not wholly neglected ; but he took care, from time to time,
to take some notice in it of the most material things con
cerning himself and the state of his mind, even till within
a few days of his death ; as the reader will see afterwards.*
" Lord's day, Sept. 21, 1746. I was so weak I could
not preach, nor pretend to ride over to my people in the
forenoon. In the afternoon rode out ; sat in my chair,
and discoursed to my people from Rom. xiv. 7, 8. ' For
none of us liveth to himself,' &c. I was strengthened and
helped in my discourse ; and there appeared something
agreeable in the assembly. I returned to my lodgings
extremely tired ; but thankful that I had been enabled to
speak a word to my poor people I had been so long ab
sent from. Was able to sleep very little this night, through
weariness and pain. Oh, how blessed should I be, if the
little I do were all done with right views ! Oh that,
' whether I live, I might live to the Lord,' &c.
" Saturday, Sept. 27. Spent this day, as well as the
whole week past, under a great degree of bodily weakness,
exercised with a violent cough, and a considerable fever.
I had no appetite to any kind of food ; and frequently
brought up what I ate, as soon as it was down ; and often
times had little rest in my bed by reason of pains in my
breast and back. I was able, however, to ride over to my
people about two miles every day, and take some care of
those who were then at work upon a small house for me
to reside in amongst the Indians.f I was sometimes
scarce able to walk, and never able to sit up the whole
day, through the week. Was calm and composed, and
but little exercised with melancholy damps, as in former
seasons of weakness. Whether I should ever recover or
no, seemed very doubtful ; but this was many times a
comfort to me, that life and death did not depend upon
my choice. I was pleased to think, that he who is infinitely
wise, had the determination of this matter ; and that I had
no trouble to consider and weigh things upon all sides, in
order to make the choice, whether I should live or die.
Thus my time was consumed; I had little strength to
pray, none to write or read, and scarce any to meditate :
but through divine goodness, I could with great com
posure look death in the face, and frequently with sensible
science misleading him at that time, he had murdered his body, out of
conscience to save bis soul, and to preserve his grace. And do you think
these were the motions of God's Spirit, which like those locusts. Rev. ix. 9,
10. had faces like men, but had tails like scorpions, and stings in their
tails ?
t This was the fourth house be built for his residence among the Indians.
Besides that at Kaunaumeek, and that at the Forks of Delaware, and
another at Crossweeksung, he built one now at Cranhury.

374

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

joy. Oh, how blessed it is, to be habitually prepared for
death ! The Lord grant that I may be actually ready also !
" Lord's day, Sept. 28. Rode to my people ; and,
though under much weakness, attempted to preach from
2 Cor. xiii. 5. ' Examine yourselves,' &c. Discoursed
about half an hour ; at which season divine power seemed
to attend the word : but being extremely weak, I was
obliged to desist : and after a turn of faintness, with much
difficulty rode to my lodgings; where betaking myself to
my bed, I lay in a burning fever, and almost delirious, for
several hours ; till towards morning my fever went off
with a violent sweat. I have often been feverish, and un
able to rest quietly after preaching ; but this was the most
severe, distressing turn that ever preaching brought upon
me. Yet I felt perfectly at rest in my own mind, because
I had made my utmost attempts to speak for God, and
knew I could do no more.
" Tuesday, Sept. 30. Yesterday, and to-day, was in the
same weak state, or rather weaker than in days past; was
scarce able to sit up half the day. Was in a composed
frame of mind, remark-ably free from dejection and melan
choly damps ; as God has been pleased, in a great measure,
to deliver me from these unhappy glooms, in the general
course of my present weakness hitherto, and also from a
peevish, froward spirit. And oh how great a mercy is this !
Oh that I might always be perfectly quiet in seasons of
greatest weakness, although nature should sink and fail !
Oh that I may always be able with utmost sincerity to
say, ' Lord, not my will, but thine be done !' This,
through grace, I can say at present, with regard to life or
death, ' The Lord do with me as seems good in his sight;'
that whether I live or die, I may glorify him, who is
' worthy to receive blessing, and honour, and dominion
for ever. Amen.'
" Saturday, Oct. 4. Spent the former part of this week
under a great degree of infirmity and disorder, as I had
done several weeks before : was able, however, to ride a
little every day, although unable to sit up half the day,
till Thursday. Took some care daily of some persons at
work upon my house. On Friday afternoon found myself
wonderfully revived and strengthened ; and having some
time before given notice to my people, and those of them
at the Forks of Delaware in particular, that I designed,
with leave of Providence, to administer the sacrament of
the Lord's supper upon the first sabbath in October, the
sabbath now approaching, on Friday afternoon I preached,
preparatory to the sacrament, from 2 Cor. xiii. 5. finishing
what I had proposed to offer upon the subject the sabbath
before. The sermon was blessed of God to the stirring up
religious affection, and a spirit of devotion, in the people
of God ; and to the greatly affecting one who had back
slidden from God, which caused him to judge and con
demn himself. I was surprisingly strengthened in my
work while I was speaking : but was obliged immediately
after to repair to bed, being now removed into my own
house among the Indians ; which gave me such speedy
relief and refreshment, as I could not well have lived with
out. Spent some time on Friday night in conversing with
my people about divine things, as I lay upon my bed ;
and found my soul refreshed, though my body was weak.
This being Saturday, I discoursed particularly with divers
of the communicants ; and this afternoon preached from
Zech. xii. 10. ' And I will pour on the house of David,'
&c. There seemed to be a tender melting, and hearty
mourning for sin, in numbers in the congregation. My
soul was in a comfortable frame, and I enjoyed freedom
and assistance in public service; was myself, as well as
most of the congregation, much affected with the humble
confession and apparent broken-heartedness of the fore-
mentioned backslider ; and could not but rejoice, that God
had given him such a sense of his sin and unworthiness.
Was extremely tired in the evening ; but lay on my bed,
and discoursed to my people.
" Lord's day, Oct. 5. Was still very weak ; and in the
morning considerably afraid I should not be able to go
through the work of the day ; having much to do, both in
private and public. Discoursed before the administration
of the sacrament, from John i. 29. ' Behold the Lamb of
God, that taketh away the sin of the world.' Where I
considered, I. In what respects Christ is called the Lamb

qf God: and observed that he is so called, (1.) From the
purity and innocency of his nature. (2.) From his meek
ness and patience under sufferings. (3.) From his being
that atonement, which was pointed out in the sacrifice of
lambs, and in particular by the paschal lamb. II. Con
sidered how and in what sense he ' takes away the sin of
the world :' and observed, that the means and manner, in
and by which he takes away the sins of men, was his
' giving himself for them,' doing and suffering in their
room and stead, &c. And he is said to take away the sin
of the world, not because all the world shall actually be
redeemed from sin bv him; but because, (1.) He has
done and suffered sufficient to answer for the sins of the
world, and so to redeem all mankind. (2.) He actually
does take away the sins of the elect world. And, III.
Considered how we are to behold him, in order to have our
sins taken away. (1.) Not with our bodily eyes. Nor,
(2.) By imagining him on the cross, &c. But by a spiritual
view of his glory and goodness, engaging the soul to rely
on him, &c. — The divine presence attended this discourse ;
and the assembly was considerably melted with divine
truths. After sermon baptized two persons. Then ad
ministered the Lord's supper to near forty communicants
of the Indians, besides divers dear Christians of the white
people. It seemed to be a season of divine power and
grace ; and numbers seemed to rejoice in God. Oh, the
sweet union and harmony then appearing among the reli
gious people ! My soul was refreshed, and my religious
friends, of the white people, with me. After the sacra
ment, could scarcely get home, though it was not more
than twenty roods ; but was supported and led by my
friends, and laid on my bed ; where I lay in pain till
some time in the evening; and then was able to sit up
and discourse with friends. Oh, how was this day spent
in prayers and praises among my dear people ! One might
hear them, all the morning, before public worship, and in
the evening, till near midnight, praying and singing praises
to God, in one or other of their houses. My soul was
refreshed, though my body was weak."
This week, in two days, though in a very low state, he
went to Elizabeth-town, to attend the meeting ofthe Synod
there : but was disappointed by its removal to New York.
He continued in a very composed, comfortable frame of
mind. " Saturday, Oct. 11. Towards night was seized with an
ague, which was followed with a hard fever, and consider
able pain : was treated with great kindness, and was
ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy a
creature, as I knew myself to be. Was in a comfortable
frame of mind, wholly submissive, with regard to life or
death. It was indeed a peculiar satisfaction to me, to
think, that it was not my concern or business to determine
whether I should live or die. I likewise felt peculiarly
satisfied, while under this unc6mmon degree of disorder;
being now fully convinced of my being really weak, and
unable to perform my work. Whereas at other times my
mind was perplexed with fears, that I was a misimprover
of time, by conceiting I was sick, when I was not in
reality so. Oh, how precious is time ! And how guilty
it makes me feel, when I think I have trifled away and
misimproved it, or neglected to fill up each part of it
with duty, to the utmost of my ability and capacity !
" Lord's day, Oct. 12. Was scarce able to sit up in
the forenoon : in the afternoon attended public worship,
and was in a composed, comfortable frame.
" Lord's day, Oct. 19. Was scarcely able to do any
thing at all in the week past, except that on Thursday I
rode out about four miles ; at which time I took cold. As
I was able to do little or nothing, so 1 enjoyed not much
spirituality, or lively religious affection ; though at some
times I longed much to be more fruitful and full of hea
venly affection ; and was grieved to see the hours slide
away, while I could do nothing for God. — Was able this
week to attend public worship. Was composed and com
fortable, willing either to die or live ; but found it hard to
be reconciled to the thoughts of living useless. Oh that I
might never live to be a burden to God's creation ; but
that I might be allowed to repair home, when my sojourn
ing work is done !"
This week he went back to his Indians at Cranberry, to

Part VIII.

A. D. 1746, 1747. -ET. 29, 30.

375

take some care of their spiritual and temporal concerns ;
and was much spent with riding ; though he rode but a
little way in a day.
" Thursday, Oct. 23. Went to my own house, and set
things in order. Was very weak, and somewhat me
lancholy : laboured to do something, but had no
strength ; and was forced to lie down on my bed, very
solitary. " Friday, Oct. 24. Spent the day in overseeing and
directing my people about mending their fence, and secur
ing their wheat. Found that all their concerns of a secular
nature depended upon me. — Was somewhat refreshed in
the evening, having been able to do something valuable in
the day-time. Oh, how it pains me to see time pass away,
when I can do nothing to any purpose !
" Saturday, Oct. 25. Visited some of my people ; spent
some time in writing, and felt much better in body than
usual. When it was near night, I felt so well, that I had
thoughts of expounding : but in the evening was much dis
ordered again, and spent the night in coughing, and spit
ting blood.
" Lord's day, Oct. 26. In the morning was exceeding
weak : spent the day, till near night, in pain to see my poor
people wandering as sheep not having a shepherd, waiting
and hoping to see me able to preach to them before night.
It could not but distress me to see them in this case, and
to find myself unable to attempt any thing for their spiritual
benefit. But towards night, finding myself a little better,
I called them together to my house, and sat down, and
read and expounded Matt. v. 1 — 16. This discourse,
though delivered in much weakness, was attended with
power to many ofthe hearers; especially what was spoken
upon the last of these verses ; where I insisted on the in
finite wrong done to religion, by having our light become
darkness, instead of shining before men. Many in the con
gregation were now deeply affected with a sense of their
deficiency, in regard of a spiritual conversation, that might
recommend religion to others, and a spirit of concern and
watchfulness seemed to be excited in them. There was
one, in particular, who had fallen into the sin of drunken
ness some time before, now deeply convinced of his sin,
and the great dishonour done to religion by his misconduct,
and he discovered a great degree of grief and concern on
that account. My soul was refreshed to see this. And
though I had no strength to speak so much as I would
have done, but was obliged to lie down on the bed ; yet I
rejoiced to see such an humble melting in the congregation ;
and that divine truths, though faintly delivered, were at
tended with so much efficacy upon the auditory.
" Monday, Oct. 27. Spent the day in overseeing and
directing the Indians about mending the fence round their
wheat : was able to walk with them, and contrive their
business, all the forenoon. In the afternoon was visited
by two dear friends, and spent some time in conversation
with them. Towards night I was able to walk out, and
take care of the Indians again. In the evening enjoyed a
very peaceful frame.
" Tuesday, Oct. 28. Rode to Prince-town, in a very
weak state : had such a violent fever, by the way, that I
was forced to alight at a friend's house, and lie down for
some time. Near night was visited by Mr. Treat, Mr.
Beaty and his wife, and another friend : my spirits were
refreshed to see them; but 1 was surprised, and even
ashamed, that they had taken so much pains as to ride
thirty or forty miles to see me. Was able to sit up most of
the evening ; and spent the time in a very comfortable
manner with my friends.
" Wednesday, Oct. 29. Rode about ten miles with my
friends that came yesterday to see me ; and then parted
with them all but one, who stayed on purpose to keep me
company, and cheer my spirits. Was extremely weak,
and very feverish, especially towards night; but enjoyed
comfort and satisfaction.
" Thursday, Oct. 30. Rode three or four miles, to visit
Mr. Wales : spent some time, in an agreeable manner, in
conversation ; and though extremely weak, enjoyed a com
fortable, composed frame of mind.
" Friday, Oct. 31. Spent the day among friends, in a
* About this time he wrote the seventh letter among his Remains.

comfortable frame of mind, though exceeding weak, and
under a considerable fever.
" Saturday, Nov. 1 . Took leave of friends after having
spent the forenoon with them, and returned home to my
own house. Was much disordered in the evening, and
oppressed with my cough ; which has now been constant
for a long time, with a hard pain in my breast, and fever.
" Lord's day, Nov. 2. Was unable to preach, and scarce
ly able to sit up, the whole day. Was grieved, and almost
sunk, to see my poor people destitute of the means of
grace ; especially considering they could not read, and so
were under great disadvantages for spending the sabbath
comfortably. Oh, me thought, I could be contented to be
sick, if my poor flock had a faithful pastor to feed them
with spiritual knowledge ! A view of their want of this
was more afflictive to me than all my bodily illness.
" Monday, Nov. 3. Being now in so weak and low a
state, that I was utterly incapable of performing my work,
and having little hope of recovery, unless by much riding,
I thought it my duty to lake a long journey into New Eng
land, and to divert myself among my friends, whom I had
not now seen for along time. And accordingly took leave
of my congregation this.day. — Before I left my people, I
visited them all in their respective houses, and discoursed
to each one, as I thought most proper and suitable for their
circumstances, and found great freedom and assistance in
so doing. I scarcely left one house but some were in tears ;
and many were not only affected with my being about to
leave them, but with the solemn addresses I made them
upon divine things ; for I was helped to he fervent in spirit
while I discoursed to (hem. — When I had thus gone
through my congregation, (which took me most of the day,)
and had taken leave of them, and of the school, I left
home, and rode about two miles, to the house where I
lived in the summer past, and there lodged. Was refresh
ed, this evening, in that I had left my congregation so well-
disposed and affected, and that I had been so much
assisted in making my farewell-addresses to them.
" Tuesday, Nm>. 4. Rode to Woodbridge, and lodged
with Mr. Pierson ; continuing in a weak state.
" Wednesday, Nov. 5. Rode to Elizabeth-town ; intend
ing as soon as possible to prosecute my journey into New
England. But was, in an hour or two after my arrival,
taken much worse.
" After this, for near a week, I was confined to my
chamber, and most of the time to my bed : and then so far
revived as to be able to walk about the house ; but was still
confined within doors.
" In the beginning of this extraordinary turn of disorder,
after my coming to Elizabeth-town, I was enabled through
mercy to maintain a calm, composed, and patient spirit, as
I had been before from the beginning of my weakness.
After I had been in Elizabeth-town about a fortnight, and
had so far recovered that I was able to walk about the
house, upon a day of thanksgiving kept in this place, I was
enabled lo recall and recount over the mercies of God, in
such a manner as greatly affected me, and filled me with
thankfulness and praise. Especially my soi$ praised God
for his work of grace among the Indians, ana the enlarge
ment of his dear kingdom. My soul blessed God for what
he is in himself, and adored him, that he ever would dis
play himself to creatures. I rejoiced that he was God,
and longed that all should know it, and feel it, and rejoice
in it. ' Lord, glorify thyself,' was the desire and cry of
my soul. Oh that all people might love and praise the
blessed God ; that he might have all possible honour and
glory from the intelligent world !*
" After this comfortable thanksgiving-season, I frequent
ly enjoyed freedom, enlargement, and engagedness of soul
in prayer, and was enabled to intercede with God for my
dear congregation, very often for every family, and every
person, in particular. It was often a great comfort to me,
that I could pray heartily to God for those, to whom I
could not speak, and whom I was not allowed to see. But
at other times, my spirits were so flat and lqw, and my
bodily vigour so much wasted, that I had scarce* any affec
tions at all.
" In December I had revived so far as to be able to

376

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

walk abroad, and visit friends, and seemed to be on the
gaining hand with regard to my health, in the main, until
Lord's dav, December 21. At which time I went to the
public worship; and it being sacrament day, I laboured
much at the Lord's table, to bring forth a certain corrup
tion, and have it slain, as being an enemy to God and my
own soul ; and could not but hope, that I had gained some
strength against this, as well as other corruptions ; and felt
some brokenness of heart for my sin.
" After this, having perhaps taken some cold, I began to
decline as to bodily health ; and continued to do so, till
the latter end of January, 1747. Having a violent cough,
a considerable fever, an asthmatic disorder, and no appe
tite for any manner of food, nor any power of digestion, I
was reduced to so low a state, that my friends, I believe,
generally despaired of my life; and some of them, for
some time together, thought I could scarce live a day. At
this time, I could think of nothing, with any application
of mind, and seemed to be in a great measure void of all
affection, and was exercised with great temptations ; but
yet was not ordinarily afraid of death.
" On Lord's day, Feb. 1. Though in a very weak and
low state, I enjoyed a considerable deal of comfort and
sweetness in divine things ; and was enabled to plead and
use arguments with God in praver, I think, with a child
like spirit. That passage of Scripture occurred to my
mind, and gave me great assistance, ' If ye, being evil,
knov/ how to give good gifts to your children, how much
more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to
them that ask him V This text I was helped to plead
and insist upon; and saw the divine faithfulness engaged
for dealing with me better than any earthly parent can do
with his child. This season so refreshed my soul, that my
body seemed also to be a gainer by it. And from this
time I began gradually to amend. And as I recovered
some strength, vigour, and spirit, I found at times some
freedom and life in the exercises of devotion, and some
longings after spirituality and a life of usefulness to the
interests of the great Redeemer. At other times I was
awfully barren and lifeless, and out of frame for the things
of God ; so that I was ready often to cry out, ' Oh that
it were with me as in months past!' Oh that God had
taken me away in the midst of my usefulness, with a sudden
stroke, that I might not have been under a necessity of
trifling away time in diversions ! Oh that I had never lived
to spend so much precious time, in so poor a manner, and
to so little purpose ! Thus I often reflected, was grieved,
ashamed, and even confounded, sunk and discouraged.
" On Tuesday, Feb. 24. I was able to ride as far as
Newark, (having been confined within Elizabeth-town
almost four months,) and the next day returned to Eliza
beth-town. My spirits were somewhat refreshed with the
ride, though my body was weary.
" On Saturday, Feb. 28. Was visited by an Indian of
my own congregation ; who brought me letters, and good
news of the sober and good behaviour of my people in
general. This refreshed my soul ; I could not but soon
retire, and bless God for his goodness; and found, I trust,
a truly thankful frame of spirit, that God seemed to be
building up that congregation for himself.
" On Wednesday, March 4. I met with a reproof from
a friend, which, although I thought I did not deserve it
from him, yet was, I trust, blessed of God to make me
more tenderly afraid of sin, more jealous over myself, and
more concerned to keep both heart and life pure' and un
blamable. It likewise caused me to reflect on my past
deadness, and want of spirituality, and to abhor myself,
and look on myself as most unworthy. This frame of
mind continued the next day ; and for several days after,
I grieved to think, that in my necessary diversions I had
not maintained more seriousness, solemnity, heavenly af
fection and conversation. Thus my spirits were often de
pressed and sunk ; and yet I trust that reproof was made
to be beneficial to me.
" Wednesday, March 11, being kept in Elizabeth-town
as a day of fasting and prayer, I was able to attend public
worship ; which was the first time I was able so to do after
December 21. Oh, how much weakness and distress did
* The late learned and very excellent Mr. Jonathan Dickinson, pastor
of a church in Elizabeth-town, president of the college of New Jersey, and

God carry me through in this space of time ! But having
obtained help from him, I yet live: Oh that I could live
more to his glory !
" Lord's day, March 15. Was able again to attend the
public worship, and felt some earnest desires of being re
stored to the ministerial work : felt, I think, some spirit
and life to speak for God.
" Wednesday, March 18. Rode out with a design to
visit my people ; and the next' day arrived among them :
but was under great dejection in my journey.
" On Friday morning I rose early, walked about among
my people, and inquired into their state and concerns ;
and found an additional weight and burden on my spirits,
upon hearing some things disagreeable. I endeavoured to
go to God with my distresses, and made some kind of
lamentable complaint; and in a broken manner spread
my difficulties before God ; but, notwithstanding, my mind
continued very gloomy. About ten o'clock I called my
people together, and after having explained and sung a
psalm, I prayed with them. There was a considerable
deal of affection among them ; I doubt not, in some in
stances, that which was more than merely natural."
This was the last interview that he ever had with his
people. About eleven o'clock the same day he left them ;
and the next day came to Elizabeth-town; his melan
choly remaining still : and he continued for a consider
able time under a great degree of dejection through va
poury disorders.
" Saturday, March 28. Was taken this morning with
violent griping pains. These pains were extreme and con
stant for several hours ; so that it seemed impossible for
me, without a miracle, to live twenty-four hours in such
distress. I lay confined to my bed the whole dav, and
in distressing pain all the former part of it : but it pleased
God to bless means for the abatement of my distress.
Was exceedingly weakened by this pain, and continued
so for several days following ; being exercised with a
fever, cough, and nocturnal sweats. In this distressed
case, so long as my head was free of vapoury confusions,
death appeared agreeable to me ; I looked on it as the end
of toils, and an entrance into a place ' where the weary are
at rest;' and I think I had some relish of the entertain
ments of the heavenly state ; so that by these I was allured
and drawn as well as driven by the fatigues of life. Oh,
how happy it is, to be drawn by desires of a state of per
fect holiness !
" Saturday, April 4. Was sunk and dejected, very rest
less and uneasy, by reason of the misimprovement of time ;
and yet knew not what to do. I longed to spend time in
fasting and prayer, that I might be delivered from indo
lence and coldness in the things of God ; but, alas, I
had not bodily strength for these exercises ! Oh, how
blessed a thing is it to enjoy peace of conscience ! but how
dreadful is a want of inward peace and composure of soul !
It is impossible, I find, to enjoy this happiness without
redeeming time, and maintaining a spiritual frame of mind.
" Lord's day, April 5. It grieved me to find myself so
inconceivably barren. My soul thirsted for grace ; but
alas, how far was I from obtaining what appeared to me
so exceeding excellent! I was ready to despair of ever
being a holy creature, and yet my soul was desirous of fol
lowing hard after God; but never did I see myself so far
from having apprehended, or being already perfect, as at
this time. The Lord's supper being this day administer
ed, I attended the ordinance : and though I saw in my
self a dreadful emptiness and want of grace, and saw
myself as it were at an infinite distance from that purity
which becomes the gospel ; yet at the communion, espe
cially the distribution of the bread, I enjoyed some
warmth of affection, and felt a tender love to the brethren ;
and I think, to the glorious Redeemer, the first-bom
among them. I endeavoured then to bring forth mine
and his enemies, and slay them before him; and found
great freedom in begging deliverance from this spiritual
death, as well as in asking divine favours for my friends
and congregation, and the church of Christ in general.
" Tuesday, April 7. In the afternoon rode to Newark,
in order to marry the Reverend Mr. Dickinson;* and in
one of the Correspondents of the Honourable Society in Scotland for propa
gating Christian Knowledge. He had a great esteem for Mr. Brainerd, and

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D. 1746, 1747. iET. 29, 30.

377

the evening performed that work. Afterwards rode home
to Elizabeth-town, in a pleasant frame, full of composure
and sweetness.
" Thursday, April 9. Attended the ordination of Mr.
Tucker,* and afterwards the examination of Mr. Smith :
was in a comfortable frame of mind this day, and felt my
heart, I think, sometimes in a spiritual frame.
" Friday, April 10. Spent the forenoon in Presby-
terial business : in the afternoon, rode to Elizabeth-town ;
found my brother John there : f spent some time in con
versation with him ; but was extremely weak and out
done, my spirits considerably sunk, and my mind dejected.
" Monday, April 13. Assisted in examining my
brother. In the evening, was in a solemn devout frame ;
but was much overdone and oppressed with a violent
head-ache. " Tuesday, April 14. Was able to do little or nothing :
spent some time with Mr. Byram and other friends. This
day mv brother went to my people.
" Wednesday, April 15. Found some freedom at the
throne of grace several times this day. In the afternoon
was very weak, and spent the time to very little purpose ;
and yet in the evening had, I thought, some religious
warmth and spiritual desires in prayer : my soul seemed
to go forth after God, and take complacence in his divine
perfections. But, alas ! afterwards awfully let down my
watch, and grew careless and secure.
" Thursday, April 16. Was in bitter anguish of soul
in the morning, such as I have scarce ever felt, with a
sense of sin and guilt. I continued in distress the whole
day, attempting to pray, wherever I went ; and indeed
could not help so doing: but looked upon myself so
vile, I dared not look any body in the face; and was
even grieved that any body should show me any respect,
or at least that they should be so deceived as to think I
deserved it.
" Friday, April 17. In the evening could not but
think that God helped me to ' draw near to the throne of
grace,' though most unworthy, and gave me a sense of his
favour; which gave me inexpressible support and en
couragement. Though I scarcely dared to hope the mercy
was real, it appeared so great ; yet could not but rejoice
that ever God should discover his reconciled face to such
a vile sinner. Shame and confusion, at times, covered
me ; and then hope, and joy, and admiration of divine
goodness gained the ascendant. Sometimes I could not
but admire the divine goodness, that the Lord had not let
me fall into all the grossest, vilest acts of sins and open
scandal that could be thought of; and felt myself so
necessitated to praise God, that this was ready for a little
while to swallow up my shame and pressure of spirit on
account of my sins."
After this, his dejection and pressure of spirit returned ;
and he remained under it the two next days.
"Monday, April 20. Was in a very disordered state,
and kept my bed most of the day. I enjoyed a little
more comfort than in several of the preceding days. This
day I arrived at the age qf twenty-nine years.
" Tuesday, April 21 . I set out on my journey for New
England, in order (if it might be the will of God) to re
cover my health by riding : travelled to New York, and
there lodged."
This proved his final departure from New Jersey. — He
travelled slowly, and arrived among his friends at East
Haddam, about the beginning of May. There is very
little account in his diary of the time that passed from his
setting out on his journey to May 10. He speaks of his
sometimes finding his heart rejoicing in the glorious per
fections of God, and longing to live to him ; but com
plains of the unfixedness of his thoughts, and their being
easily diverted from divine subjects, and cries out of his
leanness, as testifying against him, in the loudest manner.
And concerning those diversions he was obliged to use for
his health, he says, that he sometimes found he could use
kindly entertained him in his house during his sickness in the winter past ;
and after a short illness, he died in the next ensuing October, two days be
fore Mr. Brainerd.
* A worthy pious young gentleman; who lived inthe'ministrybut a very
short time : he died at Sfratfield in Connecticut, the December following
his ordination, being a little wbile after Mr. Brainerd's death at Northamp.
ton. He was taken ill on a journey, returning from a visit to his friends at

diversions with " singleness of heart," aiming at the glory
of God ; but that he also found there was a necessity of
great care and watchfulness, lest he should lose that spi
ritual temper of mind in his diversions, and lest they
should degenerate into what was merely selfish, without
any supreme aim at the glory of God in 'them.
" Lord's day, May 10. (At Had-Lime) I could not but
feel some measure of gratitude to God at this time,
(wherein I was much exercised,) that he had always dis
posed me, in my ministry, to insist on the great doctrines
of regeneration, the new creature, faith in Christ, progres
sive sanctification, supreme love to God, living entirely to
the glory qf God, being not our own, and the like. God
thus helped me to see, in the surest manner, from time to
time, that these, and the like doctrines necessarily con
nected with them, are the only foundation of safety and
salvation for perishing sinners ; and that those divine dis
positions, which are consonant hereto, are that holiness,
' without which no man shall see the Lord.' The exercise
of these God-like tempers — wherein the soul acts in a
kind of concert with God, and would be and do everv
thing that is pleasing to him — I saw, would stand by the
soul in a dying hour ; for God must, I think, deny him
self, if he cast away his own image, even the soul that is
one in desires with himself.
" Lord's day, May 17. [At Millington] Spent the fore
noon at home, being unable to attend the public worship.
At this time, God gave me some affecting sense of my own
vileness and the exceeding sinfulness of my heart ; that
there seemed to be nothing but sin and corruption within
me. ' Innumerable evils compassed me about : my want of
spirituality and holy living, my neglect of God, and living
to myself. — All the abominations of my heart and life
seemed to be open to my view ; and I had nothing to
say, but, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' — Towards
noon I saw, that the grace of God in Christ is infinitely
free towards sinners, and such sinners as I was. I also
saw, that God is the supreme good, that in his presence is
life ; and I began to long to die, that I might be with him,
in a state of freedom from all sin. Oh, how a small
glimpse of his excellency refreshed my soul ! Oh, how
worthy is the blessed God to be loved, adored, and de
lighted in for himself, for his own divine excellencies !
" Though I felt much dulness, and want of a spirit in
prayer this week ; yet I had some glimpses of the excel
lency of divine things ; and especially one morning, in
secret meditation and prayer, the excellency and beauty
of holiness, as a likeness to the glorious God, was so dis
covered to me, that I began to long earnestly to be in that
world where holiness dwells in perfection. I seemed to
long for this perfect holiness, not so much for the sake of
my own happiness, (although I saw clearly that this was
the greatest, yea, the only happiness ofthe soul,) as that I
might please God, live entirely to him, and glorify him to
the utmost stretch of my rational powers and capacities.
" Lord's day, May 24. [At Long Meadow in Spring
field] Could not but think, as I have often remarked to
others, that much more of true religion consists in deep
humility, brokenness qf heart, and an abasing sense of bar
renness and want qf grace and holiness, than most who are
called Christians imagine ; especially those who have
been esteemed the converts of the late day. Many seem
to know of no other religion but elevated joys and affections,
arising only from some flights of imagination, or some
suggestion made to their mind, of Christ being theirs, God
loving them, and the like."
On Thursday, May 28. He came from Long Meadow
to Northampton : appearing vastly better than, by his
account, he had been in the winter ; indeed so well, that
he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and to walk
half a mile ; and appeared cheerful, and free from melan
choly ; but yet undoubtedly, at that time, in a confirmed,
incurable consumption.
I had much opportunity, before this, of particular in-
Milton, (in the Massachusetts.) which, as I take it, was his native place,
and Harvard college the place of his education.
t This brother of bis had been sent for by the Correspondents, to take
care cf, and instruct Mr. Brainerd's congregation of Indians ; he being
obliged by his illness to be absent from them. And he continued to tako
care of them till Mr. Brainerd's death ; and since his death, has been or.
dained his successor in his mission, and to the charge of his congregation*
whicb continues much to flourish under his pastoral care.

378

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

formation concerning him, from many who were well ac
quainted with him ; and had myself once an opportunity
of considerable conversation and some acquaintance with
him, at New-Haven, near four years before, at the time of
the commencement, when he offered that confession to the
rector of the college, which has been already mentioned in
this history; I being one he was pleased then several
times to consult on that affair : but now I had opportunity
for a more full acquaintance with him. I found him re
markably sociable, pleasant, and entertaining in his con
versation ; yet solid, savoury, spiritual, and very profitable.
He appeared meek, modest, and humble ; far from any
stiffness, moroseness, superstitious demureness, or affected
singularity in speech or behaviour, and seeming to dislike
all such things. 2/Ve enjoyed not only the benefit of his
conversation, but had the comfort and advantage of hear
ing him pray in the family, from time to time. His manner
of praying was very agreeable ; most becoming a worm of
the dust, and a disciple of Christ, addressing an infinitely
great and holy God, and Father of mercies ; not with
florid expressions, or a studied eloquence ; not with any
intemperate vehemence, or indecent boldness. It was at
the greatest distance from any appearance of ostentation,
and from every thing that might look as though he meant
to recommend himself to those that were about him, or
set himself off to their acceptance. It was free also from
vain repetitions, without impertinent excursions, or need
less multiplying of words. He expressed himself with
the strictest propriety, with weight, and pungency ; and
yet what his lips uttered seemed to flow from the fulness
qf his heart, as deeply impressed with a great and solemn
sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and dependence,
and of God's infinite greatness, excellency, and sufficiency,
rather than merely from a warm and fruitful brain, pouring
out good expressions. And I know not that ever I heard
him so much as ask a blessing or return thanks at table,
but there was something remarkable to be observed both
in the matter and manner of the performance. In his
prayers, he insisted much on the prosperity of Zion, the
advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world, and the
flourishing and propagation of religion among the Indians.
And he generally made it one petition in his prayer, " that
we might not outlive our usefulness."
" Lord's day, May 31. [At Northampton] I had little
inward sweetness in religion most of the week past ; not
realizing and beholding spiritually the glory of God, and
the blessed Redeemer ; from whence always arise my com
forts and joys in religion, if I have any at all : and if I
cannot so behold the excellencies and perfections of God,
as to cause me to rejoice in him for what he is in himself, I
have no solid foundation for joy. To rejoice, only because
I apprehend I have an interest in Christ, and shall be
finally saved, is a poor mean business indeed."
This week he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, con
cerning his illness, who plainly told him, that there were
great evidences of his being in a confirmed consumption,
and that he could give him no encouragement that he
should ever recover. But it seemed not to occasion the
least discomposure in him, not to make any manner of
alteration as to the cheerfulness and serenity of his mind,
or the freedom or pleasantness of his conversation.
" Lord's day, fune 7. My attention was greatly en
gaged, and my soul so drawn forth, this day, by what I
heard of the ' exceeding preciousness of the saving grace
of God's Spirit,' that it almost overcame my body, in my
weak state. I saw, that true grace is exceeding precious
indeed ; that it is very rare ; and that there is but a very
small degree of it, even where the reality of it is to be
found ; at least, I saw this to be my case.
" In the preceding week I enjoyed some comfortable
seasons of meditation. One morning the cause of God
appeared exceeding precious to me : the Redeemer's king
dom is all that is valuable in the earth, and I could not
but long for the promotion of it in the world. I saw also,
that this cause is God's, that he has an infinitely greater
regard and concern for it than I could possibly have ;
that if I have any true love to this blessed interest, it is
only a drop derived from that ocean : hence, I was ready to
' lift up my head with joy ;' and conclude, ' Well, if God's
cause be so dear and precious to him, he will promote it.'

And thus I did as it were rest on God, that surely he
would promote that which was so agreeable to his own
will ; though the time when must still be left to his sove
reign pleasure."
He was advised by physicians still to continue riding,
as what would tend, above any other means, to prolong his
life. He was at a loss, for some time, which way to bend
his course next ; but finally determined to ride from hence
to Boston ; we having concluded that one of tbis family
should go with him, and be helpful to him in his weak
and low state.
" Tuesday, June 9. I set out on a journey from
Northampton to Boston. Travelled slowly, and got some
acquaintance with divers ministers on the road.
" Having now continued to ride for some considerable
time together, I felt myself much better than I had
formerly done ; and found, that in proportion to the pros
pect I had of being restored to a state of usefulness, so I
desired the coutinuance of life : but death appeared in
conceivably more desirable to me than a useless life ; yet
blessed be God, I found my heart, at times, fully resigned
and reconciled to this greatest of afflictions, if God saw fit
thus to deal with me.
" Friday, June 12. I arrived in Boston this day, some
what fatigued with my journey. Observed that there is
no rest, but in God : fatigues of body, and anxieties of
mind, attend us, both in town and country ; no place is
exempted. " Lord's day, June 14. I enjoyed some enlargement
and sweetness in family prayer, as well as in secret exer
cises ; God appeared excellent, his ways full of pleasure
and peace, and all I wanted was a spirit of holy fervency,
to live to him.
" Wednesday, June 17. This, and the two preceding
days, I spent mainly in visiting the ministers of the town,
and was treated with great respect by them.
"On Thursday, June 18. I was taken exceeding ill,
and brought to the gates of death, by the breaking of smali
ulcers in my lungs, as my physician supposed. In this
extreme weak state I continued for several weeks, and was
frequently reduced so low, as to be utterly speechless, and
not able so much as to whisper a word ; and even after I
had so far revived, as to walk about the house, and to step
out of doors, I was exercised every day with a faint turn,
which continued usually four or five hours : at which
times, though I was not so utterly speechless, but that I
could say Yes or No, yet I could not converse at all, nor
speak one sentence, without making stops for breath ; and
divers times in this season, my friends gathered round my
bed, to see me breathe my last, which they looked for every
moment, as I myself also did.
" How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with
regard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know ; I believe
I was somewhat shattered with the violence of the fever,
at times : but the third day of my illness, and constantly
afterwards, for four or five weeks together, I enjoyed as
much serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, as per
haps I ever did in my life ; and I think my mind never
penetrated with so much ease and freedom into divine
things, as at this time ; and I never felt so capable of
demonstrating the truth of many important doctrines of
the gospel as now. And as I saw clearly the truth of
those great doctrines, which are justly styled the doctrines
qf grace ; so I saw with no less clearness, that the essence
of religion consisted in the soul's conformity to God, and
acting above all selfish views, for his glory, longing to be
for him, to live to him, and please and honour him in all
things : and this from a clear view of his infinite excellency
and worthiness in himself, to be loved, adored, worshipped,
and served by all intelligent creatures. Thus I saw, that
when a soul loves God with a supreme love, he therein
acts like the blessed God himself, who most justly loves
himself in that manner. So when God's interest and his
are become one, and he longs that God should be glorifi
ed, and rejoices to think that he is unchangeably possessed
of the highest glory and blessedness, herein also he acts in
conformity to God. In like manner, when the soul is fully
resigned to, and rests satisfied and contented with, the divine
will, here it is also conformed to God.
" I saw further, that as this divine temper, whereby the

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A. D. 1746, 1747. -ET. 29, 30.

379

soul exalts God, and treads self in the dust, is wrought in
the soul by God's discovering his own glorious perfections
in the face of Jesus Christ to it, by the special influences
of the Holy Spirit, so he cannot but have regard to it, as
his own work ; and as it is his image in the soul, he cannot
but take delight in it. Then I saw again, that if God
should slight and reject his own moral image, he must
needs deny himself; which he cannot do. And thus I saw
the stability and infallibility of this religion ; and that
those who are truly possessed of it, have the most com
plete and satisfying evidence of their being interested in
all the benefits of Christ's redemption, having their hearts
conformed to him ; and that these, these only, are qualified
for the employments and entertainments of God's kingdom
of glory ; as none but these have any relish for the busi
ness of heaven, which is to ascribe glory to God, and not
to themseives ; and that God (though I would speak it
with great reverence of his name and perfection) cannot,
without denying himself, finally cast such away.
" The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire,
whether this was my religion : and here God was pleased
to help me to the most easy remembrance and critical re
view of what had passed in course, of a religious nature,
through several of the latter years of my life. And al
though I could discover much corruption attending my
best duties, many selfish views and carnal ends, much
spiritual pride and self-exaltation, and innumerable other
evils which compassed me about; yet God was pleased,
as I was reviewing, quickly to put this question out of
doubt, by showing me that I had, from time to time,
acted above the utmost influence of mere self-love ; that
I had longed to please and glorify him, as my highest
happiness, &c. And this review was through grace at
tended with a present feeling of the same divine temper
of mind ; I felt now pleased to think of the glory of
God, and longed for heaven, as a state wherein i might
glorify God perfectly, rather than a place of happiness for
myself: and this feeling of the love of God in my heart,
which I trust the Spirit of God excited in me afresh, was
sufficient to give me full satisfaction, and make me long,
as I had many times before done, to be with Christ. I did
not now want any of the sudden suggestions, which many
are so pleased with, ' That Christ and his benefits are
mine ; that God loves me,' &c. in order to give me satis
faction about my state : no, my soul now abhorred those
delusions of Satan, which are thought to be the immediate
witness qf the Spirit, while there is nothing but an empty
suggestion of a certain fact, without any gracious discovery
ofthe divine glory, or of the Spirit's work in their own
hearts. I saw the awful delusion of this kind of con
fidence, as well as of the whole of that religion, from
which they usually spring, or at least of which they are
the attendants. The false religion of the late day, (though
a day of wondrous grace,) the imaginations, and impres
sions made only on the animal affections — together with
the sudden suggestions made to the mind by Satan, trans
formed into an angel qf light, of certain facts not revealed
in Scripture — and many such like things, I fear, have made
up the greater part of the religious appearance in many
places. " These things I saw with great clearness, when I was
thought to be dying. And God gave me great concern
for his church and interest in the world, at this time : not
so much because the late remarkable influence upon the
minds of people was abated, as because that false religion
— those heats of imagination, and wild and selfish com
motions of the animal affections— which attended the
work of grace, had prevailed so far. This was that which
my mind dwelt upon, almost day and night : and this, to
me, was the darkest appearance, respecting religion, in the
land ; for it was this, chiefly, that had prejudiced the world
against inward religion. And I saw the great misery of
all was, that so few saw any manner of difference between
those exercises that were spiritual and holy, and those
which have self-love only for their beginning, centre, and
end. " As God was pleased to afford me clearness of thought,
* Among these are the eighth, ninth, and tenth letters, among his Re
mains. 1 1 have had advantage for the more full information of his conduct and

and composure of mind, almost continually, for several
weeks together under my great weakness ; so he enabled
me, in some measure, to improve my time, as I hope, to
valuable purposes. I was enabled to write a number of
important letters to friends in remote places :* and some
times I wrote when I was speechless, i. e. unable to
maintain conversation with any body ; though perhaps I
was able to speak a word or two-so as to be heard. — At
this season also, while I was confined at Boston, I read
with care and attention some papers of old Mr. Shepard's,
lately come to light, and designed for the press : and as I .
was desired, and greatly urged, made some corrections,
where the sense was left dark, for want of a word or two.
Besides this, I had many visitants; with whom, when 1
was able to speak, I always conversed of the things of re
ligion ; and was peculiarly disposed and assisted in dis
tinguishing between the trueand false religion of the times.
There was scarce any subject, that has been matler of de
bate in the late day, but what I was in at one time or
other brought to a sort of necessitv to discourse upon, and
show my opinion; and that frequently before numbers of
people; and especially, I discoursed repeatedly on the
nature and necessity of that humiliation, self-emptiness, or
full conviction of a person's being utterly undone in him
self, which is necessary in order to a saving faith, and the
extreme difficulty of being brought to this, and the great
danger there is of persons taking up with some self-righte
ous appearances of it. The danger of this I especially
dwelt upon, being persuaded that multitudes perish in this
hidden way ; and because so little is said from most pul
pits to discover any danger here : so that persons being
never effectually brought to die in themselves, are never
truly united to Christ, and so perish. I also discoursed
much on what I take to be the essence of true religion,
endeavouring plainly to describe that God-like temper and
disposition of soul, and that holy conversation and be
haviour, that may justly claim the honour of having God
for its original and patron. And I have reason to hope
God blessed my way of discoursing and distinguishing to
some, both ministers and people ; so that my time was not
wholly lost."
He was much visited, while in Boston, by many persons
of considerable note and character, and by some of the first
rank ; who showed him uncommon respect, and appeared
highly pleased and entertained with his conversation.
And besides his being honoured with the company and
respect of ministers of the town, he was visited by several
ministers from various parts of the country. He took all
opportunities to discourse of the peculiar nature and dis
tinguishing characters of true, spiritual, and vital religion ;
and to bear his testimony against the various false appear
ances of it, consisting in, or arising from, impressions on
the imagination, sudden and supposed immediate sug
gestions of truths not contained in the Scripture, and that
faith which consists primarily in a person believing that
Christ died for him in particular, &c. What he said was,
for the most part, heard with uncommon attention and re
gard : and his discourses and reasonings appeared mani
festly to have great weight and influence, with many that
he conversed with, both ministers and others. +
Also the Honourable Commissioners in Boston, of the
incorporated Society in London for propagating the Gospel
in New England and parts adjacent, having newly had
committed to them a legacy of the late reverend and famous
Dr. Daniel Williams of London, for the support of two
missionaries to the heathen, were pleased, while he was in
Boston, to consult him about a mission to those Indians
called the Six Nations, particularly about the qualifications
requisite in a missionary to those Indians ; and were so
satisfied with nis sentiments on this head, and had that
confidence in his faithfulness, and his judgment and dis
cretion in things of this nature, that they desired him to
undertake to find and recommend a couple of persons fit
to be employed in this business; and very much left the
matter with him.
Likewise certain pious and generously disposed gentle
men in Boston, being moved by the wonderful narrative of
conversation, the entertainment he met with, and what passed relating to
him while in Boston ; as he was constantly attended, during bis continuance
there, by one of my children, in order to his assistance in his illness.

380

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

his labours and success among the Indians in New Jersey,
and more especially by their conversation with him on the
same subject, took opportunity to inquire more particularly
into the state and necessities of his congregation, and the
school among them, with a charitable intention of con
tributing something to promote the excellent design of ad
vancing the interests of Christianity among the Indians ;
and understanding that there was a want of Bibles for the
school, three dozen of Bibles were immediately procured,
and 14/. in bills (of the old tenor) given over and
above, besides more large benefactions made afterwards,
which I shall have occasion to mention in their proper
place. Mr. Brainerd's restoration from his extremely low state
in Boston, so as to go abroad again and to travel, was very
unexpected to him and his friends. My daughter who
was with him, writes thus concerning him, in a letter dated
June 23.  " On Thursday, he was very ill with a violent
fever, and extreme pain in his head and breast, and at
turns, delirious. So he remained till Saturday evening,
when he seemed to be in the agonies of death ; the family
was up with him till one or two o'clock, expecting every
hour would be his last. On sabbath-day he was a little
revived, his head was better, but very full of pain, and
exceeding sore at his breast, much put to it for breath, &c.
Yesterday he was better upon all accounts. Last night
be slept but little. This morning he was much worse. —
Dr. Pynchon s?ys, he has no hopes of his life ; nor does he
think it likely he will ever come out of the chamber; though
he says, he may he able to come to Northampton  "
In another letter, dated June 29, she says as follows.
" Mr. Brainerd has not so much pain, nor fever, since I
last wrote, as before ; yet he is extremely weak and low,
and very faint, expecting every day will be his last. He
says, it is impossible for him to live, for he has hardly
vigour enough to draw his breath. I went this morning
into town, and when I came home, Mr. Bromfield said,
he never expected I should see him alive ; for he lay two
hours, as they thought, dying ; one could scarcely tell
whether he was alive or not ; he was not able to speak
for some time : but now is much as he was before. The
doctor thinks he will drop away in such a turn. Mr.
Brainerd says he never felt any thing so much like disso
lution, as what he felt to-day ; and says he never had any
conception of its being possible for any creature to be
alive, and yet so weak as he is from day to day.  Dr.
Pynchon says, he should not be surprised if he should so
recover as to live half a year ; nor would it surprise him
if he should die in half a day. Since I began to write he
is not so well, having had a faint turn again ; yet patient
and resigned, having no distressing fears, but the con
trary." liis physician, the honourable Joseph Pynchon, Esq.
when he visited him in his extreme illness in Boston, at
tributed his sinking so suddenly into a state so extremely
low, and nigh unto death, to the breaking of ulcers, that
had been long gathering in his lungs, (as Mr. Brainerd
himself intimates in a forementioned passage in his diary,)
and there discharging and diffusing their purulent matter.
This, while nature was labouring and struggling to throw it
off, which could be done no otherwise than by a gradual
straining of it through the small vessels of those vital
parts, occasioned a high fever and violent coughing, threw
the whole frame of nature into the utmost disorder, and
brought it near to a dissolution. But it was supposed, if
the strength of nature held till the lungs had this way
gradually cleared themselves of this putrid matter, he
might revive, and continue better, till new ulcers gathered
and broke ; but that this would surely sink him again, and
there was no hope of his recovery. He expressed himself
to one of my neighbours, who at that time saw him in
Boston, that he was as certainly a dead man as if he was
shot through the heart.
But so it was ordered in divine providence, that the
strength of nature held out through this great conflict, so
as just to escape the grave at that turn ; and then he re
vived, to the astonishment of all that knew his case.—
After he began to revive, he was visited by his youngest
brother, Mr. Israel Brainerd, a student at Yale college ;
who having heard of his extreme illness, went from thence

to Boston, in order to see him, if he might find him alive,
which he but little expected.
This visit was attended with a mixture of joy and sor
row to Mr. Brainerd. He greatly rejoiced to see his bro
ther, especially because he had desired an opportunity of
some religious conversation with him hefore he died. But
this meeting was attended with sorrow, as his brother
brought to him the sorrowful tidings of his sister Spencer's
death at Haddam ; a sister, between whom and him had
long subsisted a peculiarly dear affection, and much in
timacy in spiritual matters, and whose house he used to
make his home when he went to Haddam, his native place.
He had heard nothing of her sickness till this report of
her death. But he had these comforts together with the
tidings, viz. a confidence of her being gone to heaven, and
an expectation of his soon meeting her there  His brother
continued with him till he left the town, and came with
him from thence to Northampton. — Concerning the last
sabbath Mr. Brainerd soent in Boston, he writes in his
diary as follows.
" Lord's day, July 19. I was just able to attend public
worship, being carried to the house of God in a chaise.
Heard Dr. Sewall preach in the forenoon : partook of the
Lord's supper at this time. In this sacrament 1 saw
astonishing divine wisdom displayed ; such wisdom as I
saw required the tongues of angels and glorified saints to
celebrate. It seemed to me I never should do any thing
at adoring the infinite wisdom of God, discovered in the
contrivance of man's redemption, until I arrived at a world
of perfection ; yet I could not help striving to ' call upon
my soul, and all within me, to bless the name of God.'
 In the afternoon heard Mr. Prince preach. — I saw
more of God in the wisdom discovered in the plan of
man's redemption, than I saw of any other of his perfec
tions, through the whole day."
He left Boston the next day. But before he came
away, he had occasion to bear a very full, plain, and open
testimony against that opinion, that the essence of saving
faith lies in believing that Christ died for me in particular ;
and that this is the first act of faith in a true believer's
closing with Christ. ' He did it in a long conference he
had with- a gentleman, who has very publicly and strenu
ously appeared to defend that tenet. He" had this dis
course with him in the presence of a number of consider
able persons, who came to visit Mr. Brainerd before he
left the town, and to take their leave of him. In which
debate he made this plain declaration, (at the same time
confirming what he said by many arguments,) That the
essence of saving/aiiA was wholly left out of the definition
which that gentleman has published ; and that the faith
which he had defined, had nothing of God in it, nothing
above nature, nor indeed above the power of the devils ;
and that all such as had this faith, and had no better,
though they might have this to never so high a degree,
would surely perish. And he declared also, that he never
had greater assurance of the falseness of the principles of
those that maintained such a faith, and of their dangerous
and destructive tendency, or a more affecting sense of
the great delusion and misery of those that depended on
getting to heaven by such a faith, (while they had no bet
ter,) than he lately had when he was supposed to be at
the point to die, and expected every minute to pass into
eternity. — Mr. Brainerd's discourse at this time, and the
forcible reasonings by which he confirmed what he assert
ed, appeared to be greatly to the satisfaction of those
present; as several of them took occasion expressly to
manifest to him, before they took leave of him.
When this conversation was ended, having bid an affec
tionate farewell to his friends, he set out in the cool of the
afternoon, on his journey to Northampton, attended by
his brother, and my daughter that went with him to Bos
ton ; and would have been accompanied out of the town
by a number of gentlemen, besides that honourable per
son who gave him his company for some miles-on that
occasion, as a testimony of their esteem and respect, had
not his aversion to any thing of pomp and show prevent
ed it.
" Saturday, July 25, I arrived here at Northampton ;
having set out from Boston on Monday, about four o'clock,
P. M. In this journey I rode about" sixteen miles a day,

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A. D. 1746, 1747. MT. 29, 30.

381

one day with another. Was sometimes extremely tired
and faint on the road, so that it seemed impossible'for me
to proceed any further : at other times I was considerably
better, and felt some freedom both of body and mind.
" Lord's day, July 26. This day I saw clearly that I
should never be happy ; yea, that God himself could not
make me happy, unless I could be in a capacity to
' please and glorify him for ever.' Take away Mi's, and
admit me into all the fine heavens that can be conceived
of by men or angels, and I should still be miserable for
ever." Though he had so far revived, as to be able to travel
thus far, yet he manifested no expectation of recovery : he
supposed, as his physician did, that his being brought so
near to death at Boston, was owing to the breaking of
ulcers in his lungs. He told me that he had several such
ill turns before, only not to so high a degree, but as he
supposed, owing to the same cause, viz. the breaking of
ulcers ; and that he was brought lower and lower every
time ; and it appeared to him, that in his last sickness he
was brought as iow as it was possible, and yet live ; and
that he had not the least expectation of surviving the next
return of this breaking of ulcers ; but still appeared per
fectly calm in the prospect of death.
On Wednesday morning, the week after he came to
Northampton, he took leave of his brother Israel, never
expecting to see him again in this world ; he now setting
out from hence on his journey to New-Haven.
When Mr. Brainerd came hither, he had so much strength
as to be able, from day to day, to ride out two or three
miles, and to return ; and sometimes to pray in the family ;
but from this time he gradually decayed, becoming weaker
and weaker.
While he was here, his conversation from first Jo last
was much on the same subjects as when in Boston. He
spoke much of the nature of true religion in heart and
practice, as distinguished from its various counterfeits;
expressing his great concern, that the latter so much pre
vailed in many places. He often manifested his great
abhorrence of all such doctrines and principles in religion,
as had any tendency to antinomianism ; of all such
notions, as seemed to diminish the necessity of holiness of
life, or to abate men's regard to the commands of God,
and a strict, diligent, and universal practice of virtue and
piety, under a pretence of depreciating our works, and
magnifying God s free grace. He spoke often, with much
detestation, of such experiences and pretended discoveries
and joys, as have nothing ofthe nature of sanctification in
them, as do not tend to strictness, tenderness, and diligence
in religion, to meekness and benevolence towards man
kind, and an humble behaviour. He also declared, that
he looked on such pretended humility as worthy of no
regard, which was not manifested by modesty of conduct
and conversation. He spake often, with abhorrence, of
the spirit and practice that appears among the greater part
of separatists at this day in the land, particularly those in
the eastern parts of Connecticut ; in their condemning
and separating from the standing ministry and churches,
their crying down learning and a learned ministry, their
notion of an immediate call to the work of the ministry, and
the forwardness of laymen to set up themselves as public
teachers. He had been much conversant in the eastern
part of Connecticut, (it being near his native place,) when
the same principles, notion, and spirit began to operate,
which have since prevailed to a greater height ; and had
acquaintance with some of those persons who are become
heads and leaders of the separatists. He had also been
conversant with persons of the same way elsewhere ; and
I heard him say, once and again, he knew by his acquaint
ance with this sort of people, that what was chiefly and
most generally in repute among them as the power of
godliness, was an entirely different thing from that true
vital piety recommended in the Scriptures, and had no
thing in it of that nature. He manifested a great dislike
of a disposition in persons to much noise and show in
religion, and affecting to be abundant in proclaiming and
* His congregation, since this, have with great cheerfulness and unani-
¦ mity fallen in with this advice, and have practised agreeably to the pro
posal from Scotland ; and have at times appeared with uncommon engaged
ness and fervency of spirit in their meetings and united devotions, pursuant
to that proposal. Also-the presbyteries of New York and New Brunswick,

publishing their own experiences. Though at the same
time he did not condemn, but approved of Christians
speaking of their own experiences on some occasions, and
to some persons, with due modesty and discretion. He
himself sometimes, while at my house, spake of his own
experiences ; but it was always with apparent reserve, and
in the exercise of care and judgment with respect to occa
sions, persons, and circumstances. He mentioned some
remarkable things of his own religious experience to two
young gentlemen, candidates for the ministry, who watched
with him (each at a different time) when he was very low,
and not far from his end ; but he desired both of them
not to speak of what he had told them till after his death.
The subject of that debate I mentioned before, which
he had with a certain gentleman, the day he left Boston,
seemed to lie with much weight on his mind after he
came hither ; and he began to write a letter to that gentle
man, expressing his sentiments concerning the dangerous
tendency of some of the tenets he had expressed in con
versation, and in the writings he had published ; with the
considerations by which the exceeding hurtful nature
of those notions is evident ; but he had not strength to
finish his letter.
After he came hither, as long as he lived, he spoke much
of that future prosperity of Zion which is so often foretold
and promised in the Scripture. It was a theme he de
lighted to dwell upon ; and his mind seemed to be carried
forth with earnest concern about it, and intense desires,
that religion might speedily and abundantly revive and
flourish. Though he had not the least expectation of
recovery, yea, the nearer death advanced, and the more
the symptoms of its approach increased, still the more
did his mind seem to be taken up with this subject. He
told me, when near his end, that " he never in all
his life had his mind so led forth in desires and earnest
prayers for the flourishing of Christ's kingdom on earth, as
since he was brought so exceeding low at Boston." He
seemed much to wonder, that there appeared no more of
a disposition in ministers and people to pray for the
flourishing of religion through the world ; that so little a
part of their prayers was generally taken up about it, in
their families, and elsewhere ; and particularly, he several
times expressed his wonder, that there appeared no more
forwardness to comply with the proposal lately made, in a
Memorial from a number of ministers in Scotland, and
sent over into America, for united extraordinary prayer,
among Christ's ministers and people, for the coming of
Christ's kingdom : and he sent it as his dying advice to
his own congregation, that they should practise agreeably
to that proposal.*
Though he was constantly exceeding weak, yet there
appeared in him a continual care well to improve time,
and fill it up with something that might be profitable, and
in some respect for the glory of God or the good of men ;
either profitable conversation, or writing letters to absent
friends, or noting something in his diary, or looking over
his former writings, correcting them, and preparing them
to be left in the hands of others at his death, or giving
some directions concerning the future management of his
people, or employment in secret devotions. He seemed
never to be easy, however ill, if he was not doing some
thing for God, or in his service. After he came hither, he
wrote a preface to a diary of the famous Mr. Shepard's,
(in those papers before mentioned, lately found,) having
been much urged to it by those gentlemen in Boston who
had the care of the publication : which diary, with his
preface, has since been published .+
In his diary for Lord's day, Aug. 9, he speaks of long
ing desires after death, through a sense of the excellency
of a state of perfection. — In his diary for Lord's day, Aug.
16, he speaks of his having so much refreshment of soul in
the house of God, that it seemed also to refresh his body.
And this is not only noted in his diary, but was very
observable to others : it was very apparent, not only that
his mind was exhilarated with inward consolation, but also
that his animal spirits and bodily strength seemed to be
since this, have with one consent fallen in with the proposal, as likewise
some others of God's people in those parts.
t A part of this preface is inserted in the Reflections on these Memoirs,
in a subsequent part of this volume.

382

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

remarkably restored, as though he had forgot his illness.—
But this was the last time that ever he attended public
worship on the sabbath.
On Tuesday morning that week (I being absent on a
journey) he prayed with my family ; but not without
much difficulty, for want of bodily strength ; and this was
the last family prayer that ever he made. — He had been
wont, till now, frequently to ride out two or three miles ;
but this week, on Thursday, was the last time he ever
did so.
" JjircTs day, Aug. 23. This morning I was considerably
refreshed with the thought, yea, the hope and expectation
of the enlargement qf Christ's kingdom ; and I could not
but hope the time was at hand, when Babylon the great
would fall, and rise no more. This led me to some
spiritual meditations, that were very refreshing to me. I
was unable to attend public worship, either part of the
day ; but God was pleased to afford me fixedness and
satisfaction in divine thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my
soul, as when I can go to God, yea, to God my exceeding
joy. When he is so, sensibly, to my soul, oh how un
speakably delightful is this !
" In the week past I had divers turns of inward refresh
ing ; though my body was inexpressibly weak, followed
continually with agues and fevers. Sometimes my soul
centred in God, as my only portion ; and I felt that I
should be for ever unhappy if ne did not reign. I saw the
sweetness and happiness of being his subject, at his dis
posal. This made all my difficulties quickly vanish.
" From this Lord's day, viz. Aug. 23, I was troubled
very much with vapoury disorders, and could neither write
nor read, and could scarcely live ; although, through mercy,
was not so much oppressed with heavy melancholy and
gloominess, as at many other times.
Till this week he had been wont to lodge in a room
above stairs ; but he now grew so weak, that he was no
longer able to go up stairs and down. Friday, Aug. 28,
was the last time he ever went above-stairs ; henceforward
he betook himself to a lower room.
On Wednesday, Sept. 2, being the day of our public lec
ture, he seemed to be refreshed with seeing the neigh
bouring ministers that came hither to the lecture, and ex
pressed a great desire once more to go to the house of God
on that day : and accordingly rode to the meeting, and
attended divine service, while the Reverend Mr. Wood-
bridge, of Hatfield, preached. He signified that he sup
posed it to be the last time that ever he should attend the
public worship ; as it proved. And indeed it was the last
time that ever he went out at our gate alive.
On the Saturday evening next following he was unex
pectedly visited by his brother, Mr. John Brainerd, who
came to see him from New Jersey. He was much re
freshed by this unexpected visit, this brother being pecu
liarly dear to him ; and he seemed to rejoice in a devout
and solemn manner, to see him, and to hear the comfort
able tidings he brought concerning the state of his dear
congregation of christian Indians. A circumstance of this
visit, of which he was exceeding glad, was, that his bro
ther brought him some of his private writings from New
Jersey, and .particularly his diary that he had kept for
many years past.
" Lord's day, Sept. G. I began to read some of my pri
vate writings, which my brother brought me ; and was
considerably refreshed with what I met with in them.
" Monday, Sept. 7. I proceeded further in reading my
old private writings, and found they had the same effect
upon me as before. I could not but rejoice and bless God
for what passed long ago, which without writing had been
entirely lost.
" This evening, when I was in great distress of body,
my soul longed that God should be glorified : I saw there
was no heaven but this. I could not but speak to the by
standers then of the only happiness, viz. pleasing God. O
that I could for ever live to God ! The day, I trust, is
at hand, the perfect day. Oh, the day of deliverance from
all sin.
" Lord's day, Sept. 13. I was much refreshed and en
gaged in meditation and writing, and found a heart to act
for God. My spirits were refreshed, and my soul delighted
to do something for God."

On the evening following that Lord's day, his feet began
to appear sensibly swelled ; which thenceforward swelled
more and more. A symptom of his dissolution coming
on. The next day his" brother John left him, being oblig
ed to return to New Jersey on some business of great im
portance and necessity ; intending to return again with all
possible speed, hoping to see his brother yet once more in
the land ofthe living.
Mr. Brainerd having now, with much deliberation, con
sidered of the important affair before mentioned, which
was referred to him by the Honourable Commissioners in
Boston, of the Corporation in London for the Propagation
ofthe Gospel in New England and parts adjacent, viz. the
fixing upon and recommending of two persons proper to
be employed as missionaries to the Six Nations, he about
this time wrote a letter, recommending two young gentle
men of his acquaintance to those commissioners, viz. Mr.
Elihu Spencer of East Haddam, and Mr. Job Strong of
Northampton. The commissioners, on the receipt of this
letter, cheerfully and unanimously agreed to accept of and
employ the persons he had recommended. They accord
ingly have since waited on the commissioners to receive
their instructions; and pursuant to these, have applied
themselves to a preparation for the business of their mis
sion. One of them, Mr. Spencer, has been solemnly or
dained to that work, by several of the ministers of Boston,
in the presence of an ecclesiastical council convened for
that purpose; and is now gone forth to the nation of
Oncidaes, about a hundred and seventy miles beyond
Albany. He also this week, viz. on Wednesday, Sept. 16, wrote
a letter to a particular gentleman in Boston (one of those
charitable persons before mentioned, who appeared so for
ward to contribute of their substance for promoting Chris
tianity among the Indians) relating to the growth of the
Indian school. And the need of another schoolmaster, or
some person to assist the schoolmaster in instructing the
Indian children. These gentlemen, on the receipt of this
letter, had a meeting, and agreed with great cheerfulness to
give 200/. (in bills of the old tenor) for the support of an
other schoolmaster ; and desired the Reverend Mr. Pem
berton of New York, (who was then at Boston, and was
also, at their desire, present at their meeting,) as soon as
possible to procure a suitable person for that service ; and
also agreed to allow 75/. to defrav some special charges
that were requisite to encourage the mission to the Six
Nations, (besides the salary allowed by the commissioners,)
which was also done on some intimations given by Mr.
Brainerd. Mr. Brainerd spent himself much in writing those let
ters, being exceeding weak : but it seemed to be much
to his satisfaction, that he had been enabled to do it;
hoping that it was something done for God, and which
might be for the advancement of Christ's kingdom and
glory. In writing the last of these letters, he was obliged
to use the hand of another, not being able to write him
self. On the Thursday of this week (Sept. 17.) was the last
time that ever he went out of his lodging room. That
day he was again visited by his brother Israel, who con
tinued with him thenceforward till his death. On that
evening, he was taken with something of a diarrhaa;
which he looked upon as another sign of his approaching
death : whereupon he expressed himself thus ; " Oh, the
glorious time is now coming ! I have longed to serve God
perfectly : now God will gratify those desires ! " And from
time to time, at the several steps and new symptoms of
the sensible approach of his dissolution, he was so far from
being sunk or damped, that he seemed to be animated,
and made more cheerful ; as being glad at the appearance
of death's approach. He often used the epithet, glorious,
when speaking of the day of his death, calling it that glo
rious day. And as he saw his dissolution gradually ap
proaching, he talked much about it ; and with perfect
calmness he spoke of a future state. He also settled all
his affairs, giving directions very particularly and minutely,
concerning what he would have done in one respect arid
another after his decease. And the nearer death ap
proached, the more desirous he seemed to be of it. He
several times spoke of the different kinds of willingness to

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A. D. 1746, 1747. ZET. 29, 30.

38:3

die; and represented it as an ignoble, mean kind, to be
willing to leave the body, only to get rid of pain; or
to go to heaven, only to get honour and advancement
there. " Saturday, Sept. 19. Near night, while I attempted to
walk a little, my thoughts turned thus; 'How infinitely
sweet it is, to love God, and be all for him !' Upon
which it was suggested to me, ' You are not an angel,
not lively and active.' To which my whole soui imme
diately replied, ' I as sincerely desire to love and glorify
God, as any angel in heaven.' Upon which it was sug
gested again, 'But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.'
Hereupon instantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ's
righteousness, which I could not but exult and triumph in ;
and I viewed the infinite excellency of God, and my soul
even broke with longings that God should be glorified. I
thought of dignity in heaven ; but instantly the thought
returned, ' I do not go to heaven to get honour, but to
give all possible glory and praise.' Oh, how I longed
that God should be glorified on earth also ! Oh, I was
made for eternity, if God might be glorified ! Bodily pains
I cared not for ; though I was then in extremity, I never
felt easier. I felt willing to glorify God in that state of
bodily distress, as long as he pleased I should continue in
it. The grave appeared really sweet, and I longed to
lodge my weary bones in it : but oh, that God might be
glorified ! this was the burden qf all my cry. Oh, I knew
I should be active as an angel in heaven ; and that I
should be stripped of my filthy gar-ments! so that there
was no objection. — But, oh, to love and praise God more,
to please him for ever ! this my soul panted after, and
even now pants for while I write. Oh that God might be
glorified in the whole earth! 'Lord, let thy kingdom
come.' I longed for a Spirit of preaching to descend and
rest on ministers, that they might address the consaiences
of men with closeness and power. I saw God ' had the
residue of the Spirit;' and my soul longed it should be
' poured from on high.' I could not but plead with God
for my dear congregation, that he would preserve it, and
not suffer his great name to lose its glory in that work ; my
soul still longing that God might be glorified."
The extraordinary frame he was in that evening could
not be hid ; " his mouth spake out of tlie abundance of
his heart," expressing in a very affecting manner much the
same things as are written in his diary ; and among very
many other extraordinary expressions, which he then ut
tered, were such as these ; " My heaven is to please God,
and glorify him, and to give all to him, and to be wholly
devoted to his glory : that is the heaven I long for ; that is
my religion, and that is my happiness, and always was
ever since I suppose I had any true religion : and all
those that are of that religion shall meet me in heaven. — I
do not go to heaven to be advanced, but to give honour to
God. It is no matter where I shall be stationed in heaven,
whether I have a high or low seat there ; but to love, and
please, and glorify God is all. Had I a tliousand souls, if
they were worth any thing, I would give them all to God ;
but I have nothing to give, when all is done. — It is impos
sible for any rational creature to be happy without acting
all for God: God himself could not make him happy
any other way. I long to be in heaven, praising and glori
fying God with the holy angels : all my desire is to glorify
God. — My heart goes out to the burying place ; it seems
to me a desirable place : but oh to glorify God ! that is
it ; that is above all.  It is a great comfort to me to
think that I have done a little for God in the world : oh !
it is but a very small matter ; yet I have done a little ; and
I lament it that I have not done more for him.  There
is nothing in the world worth living for, but doing good
and finishing God's work, doing the work that Christ did.
I see nothing else in the world that can yield any satisfac
tion, besides living to God, pleasing him, and doing his
whole will.  My greatest joy and comfort has been to do
something for promoting the interest of religion, and the
souls of particular persons : and now in my illness, while
I am full of pain and distress from day to day, all the
comfort I have is in being able to do some little char (or
* This young gentleman was an ingenious, serious, studious, and hope
fully truly pious person : there appeared in him many qualities giving hope
of his being a great blessing in his day. But it has pleased God, since the

small piece of work) for God; either by something that 1
say, or by writing, or some other way."
He intermingled with these and other like expressions,
many patheticai counsels to those who were about him :
particularly to my children and servants. He applied
himself to some of my younger children at this time;
calling them to him, and speaking to them one by one ;
setting before them in a very plain manner the nature
and essence' of true piety, and its great importance and
necessity ; earnestly warning them not to rest in any thing
short of a true and thorough change of heart, and a life de
voted to God. He counselled them not to be slack in the
great business of religion, nor in the least to delay it ; en
forcing his counsels with this, that his words were the
words of a dying man : said he, " I shall die here, and
here I shall be buried, and here you will see my grave,
and do you remember what I have said to you. I am go
ing into eternity ; and it is sweet to me to think of eter
nity : the endlessness of it makes it sweet : but oh, what
shall I say to the eternity of the wicked ! I cannot mention
it, nor think of it; the thought is too dreadful. When you
see my grave, then remember what I said to you while I
was alive ; then think with yourself, how the man who
lies in that grave counselled and warned me to prepare
for death."
His body seemed to be marvellously strengthened, through
the inward vigour and refreshment of his mind ; so that,
although before he was so weak that he could hardly utter
a sentence, yet now he continued his most affecting and
profitable discourse to us for more than an hour, with
scarce any intermission ; and said of it, when he had done,
" it was the last sermon that ever he should preach." —
This extraordinary frame of mind continued the next day ;
of which he says in his diary as follows.
" Lord's day, Sept. 20. Was still in a sweet and com
fortable frame : and was again melted with desires that
God might be glorified, and with longings to love and
live to him. Longed for the influences of the divine
Spirit to descend on ministers, in a special manner. And
oh, I longed to be with God, to behold his glory, and to
bow in his presence !"
It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this
day and the evening preceding, that his mind at this time
was much impressed with a sense of the importance of the
work of the ministry, and the need of the grace of God,
and his special spiritual assistance in this work. It also
appeared in what he expressed in conversation ; particu
larly in his discourse to his brother Israel, who was then a
member of Yale college at New Haven, prosecuting his
studies for the work of the ministry.* He now, and from
time to time, in this his dying state, recommended to his
brother a life of self-denial, of weanedness from the world,
and devotedness to God, and an earnest endeavour to ob
tain much ofthe grace of God's Spirit, and God's gracious
influences on his heart; representing the great need which
ministers stand in of them, and the unspeakable benefit of
them from his own experience. Among many other ex
pressions, he said thus ; " When ministers feel these special
gracious influences on their hearts, it wonderfully assists
them to come at the consciences of men, and as it were to
handle them ; whereas, without them, whatever reason and
oratory we make use of, we do but make use of stumps,
instead of hands."
" Monday, Sept. 21 . I began to correct a little volume
of my private writings. God, I believe, remarkably helped
me in it ; my strength was surprisingly lengthened out,
my thoughts were quick and lively, and my soul refreshed,
hoping it might be a work for God. Oh, how good, how
sweet it is, to labour for, God!
" Tuesday, Sept. 22. Was again employed in reading
and correcting, and had the same success as the day be
fore. I was exceeding weak; but it seemed to refresh
my soul thus to spend time.
" Wednesday, Sept. 23. I finished my corrections of
the little piece before mentioned, and felt uncommonly
peaceful : it seemed as if I had now done all my work in
this world, and stood ready for my call to a better. As
death of his brother, to take him away also. He died that winter, at New
Haven, on January 6, 1748, of a nervous fever, after about a fortnight's ill
ness.

384

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

long as I see any thing to be done for God, life is worth
having: but ob, 'how vain and unworthy it is, to live for
any lower end !  This day I indited a letter, I think,
of great importance, to the Reverend Mr. Byram in New
Jersey. On that God would bless and succeed that letter,
which was written for the benefit of his church !* Oh that
God would purify the sons of Levi, that his glory may be
advanced !  This night I endured a dreadful turn,
wherein my life was expected scarce an hour or minute
together. But blessed be God, I have enjoyed consider
able sweetness in divine things this week, both by night
and day.
" Thursday, Sept. 24. My strength began to fail ex
ceedingly ; which looked further as if I had done all my
work : however, I had strength to fold and superscribe my
letter. About two I went to bed, being weak and much
disordered, and lay in a burning fever till night, without
any proper rest. In the evening I got up, having lain
down in some of my clothes ; but was in the greatest dis
tress that ever I endured, having an uncommon kind of
hiccough ; which either strangled me, or threw me into a
straining to vomit ; and at the same time was distressed
with griping pains. Oh, the distress of this evening ! I
had little expectation of my living the night through, nor
indeed had any about me : and I longed for the finishing
moment ! — — I was obliged to repair to bed by six o'clock ;
and through mercy enjoyed some rest ; but was grievously
distressed at turns with the hiccough.  My soul breathed
after God, — ' When shall I come to God, even to God,
my exceeding joy V Oh for his blessed likeness !
" Friday, Sept. 25. This day I was unspeakably weak,
and little better than speechless all the day : however, I
was able to write a little, and felt comfortably in some part
of the day. Oh, it refreshed my soul, to think of former
things, of desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living
to him ! Oh, my dear God, I am speedily coming to thee,
I hope. Hasten the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed
will. Oh come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.f
" Saturday, Sept. 26. I felt the sweetness of divine
things this forenoon ; and had the consolation of a con-
•sciousness that I was doing something for God.
" Lord's day, Sept. 27. This was a very comfortable
day to my soul ; I think I awoke with God. I was
enabled to lift up my soul to God early this morning ;
and while I had little bodily strength, I found freedom to
lift up my heart to God for myself and others. After
wards was pleased with the thoughts of speedily entering
into the unseen world."
Early this morning, as one of the family came into the
room, he expressed himself thus : "I have had more
pleasure this morning, than all the drunkards in the world
enjoy."  So much did he esteem the joy qf faith above
the pleasures of sin. — He felt that morning an unusual
appetite to food, with which his mind seemed to be ex
hilarated, looking on it as a sign of the very near approach
of death. At this time he also said, "I was born on a
sabbath-day ; and I have reason to think I was new-born
on a sabbath-day ; and I hope I shall die on this sabbath-
day. I shall look upon it as a favour, if it may be the
will of God that it should be so : I long for the time.
Oh, 'why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry
the wheels of his chariots ? ' I am very willing to part
with all : I am willing to part with my dear brother John,
and never to see him again, to go to be for ever with the
Lord.J Oh, when I go there, how will God's dear church
on earth be upon my mind ! "
Afterwards, the same morning, being asked, how he
did ? he answered, "I am almost in eternity. I long to
be there. My work is done : I have done with all my
friends : all the world is nothing to me. I long to be in
heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holy angels.
All my desire is to glorify God."
* It was concerning the qualifications of ministers, and the examination
and licensing of candidates for the work of the ministry.
t This was the last time that ever he wrote in his diary with his own
hand ! though it is continued a little farther, in a broken manner ; written
by his brother Israel, but indited by his mouth in this his weak and dying
state. t He had, before this, expressed a desire, if it might be the will of God,
to live till bis brother returned from New Jersey : wbo, when he went
away, intended, if possible, to perform his journey, and return in a fort
night; hoping once more to meet his brother in the land of the living. The
fortnight was now near expired, it ended the next day.

During the whole of these last two weeks of his life, he
seemed to continue in this frame of heart ; loose from all
the world, as having finished his work, and done with all
things here below. He had now nothing to do but to die,
and to abide in an earnest desire and expectation of the
happy moment, when his soul should take its flight to a
state of perfect holiness, in which he should be found
perfectly glorifying and enjoying God. He said, "That
the consideration of the day of death, and the day of
judgment, had a long time been peculiarly sweet to him."
From time to time he spake of his being willing to leave
the body and the world immediately, that day, that night,
that moment, if it was the will of God. He also was much
engaged in expressing his longings that the church of
Christ on earth might flourish, and Christ's kingdom here
might be advanced, notwithstanding he was about to leave
the earth, and should not with his eyes behold the desir
able event, nor be instrumental in promoting it. He said
to me, one morning, as I came into the room, "My
thoughts have been employed on the old dear theme, the
prosperity of God's church on earth. As I waked out of
sleep, I was led to cry for the pouring out of God's Spirit,
and the advancement of Christ's kingdom, which the dear
Redeemer did and suffered so much for. It is that espe
cially makes me long for it." — He expressed much hope
that a glorious advancement of Christ's kingdom was near
at hand.
He once told me, that "he had formerly longed for the
outpouring of the Spirit of God, and the glorious times of
the church, and hoped they were coming ; and should
have been willing to have lived to promote religion at that
time, if that had been the will of God ; but, says he, I
am willing it should be as it is ; I would not have the
choice to make for myself, for ten thousand worlds." He
expressed on his death-bed a full persuasion that he should
in heaven see the prosperity of the church on earth, and
should rejoice with Christ therein ; and the consideration
of it seemed to be highly pleasing and satisfying to his
mind. He also still dwelt much on the great importance of the
work of gospel ministers ; and expressed his longings,
that they might be filled with the Spirit qf God. He
manifested much desire to see some of the neighbouring
ministers, with whom he had some acquaintance, and of
whose sincere friendship he was confident, that he might
converse freely with them on that subject, before he died.
And it so happened, that he had opportunity with some
of them according to his desire.
Another thing that lay much on his heart, from time to
time, in these near approaches of death, was the spiritual
prosperity of his own congregation of christian Indians
m New Jersey : and when he spake of them, it was with
peculiar tenderness ; so that his speech would be presently
interrupted and drowned with tears.
He also expressed much satisfaction in the disposals of
Providence, with regard to the circumstances of his death ;
particularly that God had before his death given him an
opportunity in Boston, with so many considerable persons,
ministers and others, to give in his testimony for God
against false religion, and many mistakes that lead to it,
and promote it. He was much pleased that he had an
opportunity there to lay before pious and charitable gen
tlemen the state of the Indians, and their necessities, to so
good effect ; and that God had since enabled him to write
to them further concerning these affairs ; and to write other
letters of importance, that he hoped might be of good in
fluence with regard to the state of religion among the
Indians, and elsewhere, after his death. He expressed
great thankfulness to God for his mercy in these things.
He also mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful
circumstance of his death, that he should die ner_.§ And
speaking of these things, he said, "God had granted him
§ The editor takes leave to make the remark, that when Mr. Brainerd
was at Boston, sick nigh unto death, it was with reluctance he thought of
dying in a place where funerals are often attended with a pomp and show,
which (especially on occasion of his own) he was very averse to any ap
pearance of: and though it was with some difficulty he got his mind re
conciled to tbe prospect then before him, yet at last he was brought to ac
quiesce in the divine will, with respect to this circumstance of his departure.
However, it pleased God to order the event so as to gratify his desire,
which he had expressed, of getting back to Northampton, with a view par
ticularly to a more silent and private burial.

Part VIII.

A. D. 1746, 1747. iET. 29, 30.

38.0

all his desire ;'' and signified, that now he could with the
greater alacrity leave the world.
" Monday, Sept. 28. I was able to read, and make
some few corrections in my private writings ; but found I
could not write as I had done ; I found myself sensibly
declined in all respects. It has been only from a little
while before noon, till about one or two o'clock, that I
have been able to do any thing for some time past : yet
this refreshed my heart, that I could do any thing, either
public or private, that I hoped was for God."
This evening he was supposed to be dying : he thought
so himself, and was thougnt so by those who were about
him . He seemed glad at the appearance of the near ap
proach of death. He was almost speechless, but his lips
appeared to move : and one that sat very near him, heard
him utter such expressions as these, " Come, Lord Jesus,
come quickly. — Oh, why is his chariot so long in coming."
— After he revived, he blamed himself for having been
too eager to be gone. And in expressing what he found
in the frame of his mind at that time,, he said, he then
found an inexpressibly sweet love to those that he looked
upon as belonging to Christ, beyond almost all that ever
he felt before ; so that it " seemed (to use his own words)
like a little piece of heaven to have one of them near
him." And being asked, whether he heard the prayer that
was (at his desire) made with him ; he said, " Yes, he
heard every word, and had an uncommon sense of the
things that were uttered in that prayer, and that every word
reached his heart."
On the evening of Tuesday, Sept. 29, as he lay on his
bed, he seemed to be in an extraordinary frame ; his mind
greatly engaged in sweet meditations concerning the pros
perity of Zion. There being present here at that time two
young gentlemen of his acquaintance, that were candidates
for the ministry, he desired us all to unite in singing a
psalm on that subject, even Zion's prosperity. And on
nis desire we sung a part of the 102d Psalm. This seem
ed much to refresh and revive him, and gave him new
strength ; so that, though before he could scarcely speak
at all, now he proceeded with some freedom of speech, to
give his dying counsels to those two young gentlemen
before mentioned, relating to their preparation for, and pro
secution of, that great work of the ministry they were de
signed for ; and in particular, earnestly recommended to
them frequent secret_/as(i«g and prayer : and enforced his
counsel with regard to this, from his own experience of the
great comfort and benefit of it ; which (said he) I should
not mention, were it not that I am a dying person. And
after he had finished his counsel, he made a prayer in the
audience of us all ; wherein, besides praying for this fa
mily, for his brethren, and those candidates for the minis
try, and for his own congregation, he earnestly prayed for
the reviving and flourishing of religion in the world. — Till
now, he had every day sat up part of the day ; but after
this he never rose from his bed.
" Wednesday, Sept. 30. I was obliged to keep my bed
the whole day, through weakness. However, redeemed a
little time, and, with the help of my brother, read and cor
rected about a dozen pages in my MS. giving an account
of my conversion.
" Thursday, Oct. 1 . I endeavoured again to do some
thing by way of writing, but soon found mv powers of
body and mind utterly fail. Felt not so sweetly as when
I was able to do something that I hoped would do some
good. In the evening was discomposed and wholly
delirious ; but it was not long before God was pleased to
give me some sleep, and fully composed my mind.* Oh,
blessed be God for his great goodness to me, since I was
so low at Mr. Bromfield's, on Thursday, June 18, last.
He has, except those few minutes, given me the clear
* From this time forward he had the free use of his reason till the day
before his death ; excepting that at some times he appeared a little lost for
a moment, at first waking out of sleep.
t Hero ends his diary .- these are the last words that aro written in it,
either by his own hand, or by any other from his mouth.
J Since tbis, it has pleased a holy and sovereign God to take away this
my dear child by death, on the 14th of February, next following, after a
short illness of five days, in the eighteenth year of her age. She was a
person of much tho same spirit with Mr. Brainerd. She had constantly
taken care of and attended him in his sickness, for nineteen weeks before
his death ; dovoting herself to it with groat delight, because she looked on
him as an eminent servant of Jesus Christ. In this time he had much con
versation with her on the things of religion ; and in his dying state, often
VOL. II. 2 C

exercise of my reason, and enabled me lo labour much foi
him, in things both of a public and private nature ; and
perhaps to do more good than I should have done if I
had been well ; besides the comfortable influences of his
blessed Spirit, with which he has been pleased to refresh
my soul. May his name have all the glory for ever and
ever. Amen.
" Friday, Oct. 2. My soul was this day, at turns,
sweetly set on God : I longed to be with him, that I might
behold his glory. I felt sweetly disposed to commit all to
him, even my dearest friends, my dearest flock, my absent
brother, and all my concerns for time and eternity. Oh
that his kingdom might come in the world ; that they
might all love and glorify him, for what he is in himself;
and that the blessed Redeemer might ' see of the travail
of his soul, and be satisfied !' ' Oh come, Lord Jesus, come
quickly! Amen.'"f
• The next evening we very much expected his brother
John from New Jersey ; it being about a week after the
time that he proposed for his return, when he went away.
And though our expectations were still disappointed; yet
Mr. Brainerd seemed to continue unmoved, in the same
calm and peaceful frame that he had before manifested ;
as having resigned all to God, and having done with his
friends, and with all things here below.
On the morning of the next day, being Lord's day, Oct.
4, as my daughter Jerusha (who chiefly attended him)
came into the room, he looked on her very pleasantly, and
said, " Dear Jerusha, are you willing to part with me ? —
I am quite willing to part with you : I am willing to part
with all my friends : I am willing to part with my dear
brother John, although I love him the best of any creature
living : I have committed him and all my friends to God,
and can leave them with God. Though, if I thought
I should not see you and be happy with you in another
world, I could not bear to part with you. But we shall
spend a happy eternity together !"J In the evening, as
one came into the room with a Bible in her hand, he ex
pressed himself thus ; " Oh that dear book ! that lovely
book ! I shall soon see it opened ! the mysteries that
are in it, and the mysteries of God's providence, will be
all unfolded !"
His distemper now very apparently preyed on his vitals
in an extraordinary manner : not by a sudden breaking of
ulcers in his lungs, as at Boston, but by a constant dis
charge of purulent matter, in great quantities : so that what
he brought up by expectoration, seemed to be as it were
mouthfuls of almost clear pus ; which was attended with
very inward pain and distress.
On Thursday, Oct. G, he lay for a considerable time as
if he were dying. At which time he was heard to utter,
in broken whispers, such expressions as these ; " He will
come, he will not tarry. — I shall soon be in glory. — I shall
soon glorify God with the angels." — But after some time
he revived.
The next day, Wednesday, Oct. 7, his brother John
arrived from New Jersey ; where he had been detained
much longer than he intended, by a mortal sickness pre
vailing among the christian Indians, and by some other
circumstances that made his stay with them necessary.
Mr. Brainerd was affected and refreshed with seeing him,
and appeared fully satisfied with the reasons of his d^lay ;
seeing the interest of religion and of the souls of his people
required it.
The next day, Thursday, Oct. 8, he was in great distress
and agonies of body ; and for the greater part of the day,
was much disordered as to the exercise of his reason. In
the evening he was more composed, and had the use of
his reason well ; but the pain of his body continued and
increased. He told me, it was impossible for any to con-
expressed to us, her parents, his great satisfaction concerning her true piety,
and his confidence that he should meet her in heaven ; . and his high opinion
of her, not only as a true Christian, but a very eminent saint : one whose
soul was uncommonly fed and entertained with things that appertain to
the most spiritual, experimental, and distinguishing parts of religion ; and
one who, by the temper of her mind, was fitted to deny herself for God,
and to do good, beyond any young women whatsoever that he knew of.
She had manifested a heart uncommonly devoted to God, in the course of
her life, many years before her death ; and said on her death-bed, that
" she had not seen one minute for several years, wherein she desired to
live one minute longer, for the sake of any other good in life, but doing
good, living to God, and doing what might be for bis glory."

386

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

ceivc of the distress he felt in his breast. He manifested
much concern lest he should dishonour God by impatience,
under his extreme agony ; which was such, that he said,
the thought of enduring it one minute longer was almost
insupportable. He desired that others would be much in
lifting up their hearts continually to God for him, that God
would support him, and give him patience. He signified,
that he expected to die that night ; but seemed to fear a
longer delay : and the disposition of his mind with regard
to death appeared still the same that it had been all along.
And notwithstanding his bodily agonies, yet the interest
of Zion lay still with great weight on his mind ; as ap
peared by some considerable discourse he had that evening
with the Reverend Mr. Billing, one of the neighbouring
ministers, (who was then present,) concerning the great
importance of the work of the ministry, &c. And after
wards, when it was very late in the night, he had much
very proper and profitable discourse with his brother John,
concerning his congregation in New Jersey, and the interest
of religion among the Indians. In the latter part of the

night, his bodily distress seemed to rise to a greater height
than ever; and he said to those then about him, that " it
was another thing to die than people imagined ;" explain
ing himself to mean that they were not aware what bodily
pain and anguish is undergone before death. Towards
day, his eyes fixed ; and he continued lying immovable,
till about six o'clock in the morning, and then expired, on
Friday, Oct. 9, 1747 ; when his soul, as we may well con
clude, was received by his dear Lord and Master, as an
eminently faithful servant, into that state of perfection of
holiness, and fruition of God, which he had so often and
so ardently longed for ; and was welcomed by the glorious
assembly in the upper world, as one peculiarly fitted to
join them in their blessed employ and enjoyment.
Much respect was shown to his memory at his funeral;
which was on the Monday following, after a sermon
preached the same day, on that solemn occasion. His
funeral was attended by eight of the neighbouring minis
ters, and seventeen other gentlemen of liberal education,
and a great concourse of people.

MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL,

IN TWO PARTS.

ADVERTISEMENT.
The Journal having been so much referred to in the Life and Diary, and being originally a part of the Diary itself,
this work would be very imperfect without it. It was first printed not only in two parts, but with some variation in the
Titles, which are here subjoined. The First Part was,
" Mirabilia Dei inter Indicos ;
Or the Rise and Progress of a remarkable Work of Grace
Amongst a number of the Indians,
In the Provinces of New Jersey and Pennsylvania ;
Justly represented in a Journal kept by order of the Honourable Society (in Scotland) for Propagating
Christian Knowledge ; with some General Remarks ;
By David Brainerd,
Minister of the Gospel, and Missionary from the said Society :
Published by the Reverend and worthy Correspondents of the said Society ;
with a Preface by them."
The Second Part was, " Divine Grace Displayed ;
Or the Continuance and Progress of a remarkable Work of Grace
Among some of the Indians
Belonging to the Provinces of New Jersey and Pennsylvania ;
Justly represented in a Journal kept by order of the Honourable Society (in Scotland)
for Propagating Christian Knowledge ;
with some General Remarks ;
To which is subjoined an Appendix, containing some account of sundry things, especially of the Difficulties attending
the Work of a Missionary among the Indians :
By David Brainerd,
Minister of the Gospel, and Missionary from the said Society :
Published by the Reverend and worthy Correspondents of the said Society.''

PREFACE.
The design of this publication is to give God the glory of his distinguishing grace, and gratify the pious curiosity of
those who are waiting and praying for that blessed time, when the Son of God, in a more extensive sense than has yet
been accomplished, shall receive " the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for a pos
session." Whenever any of the guilty race of mankind are awakened to a just concern for their eternal interest, are humbled at
the footstool of a sovereign God, and are persuaded and enabled to accept the offers of redeeming love, it must always
be acknowledged a wonderful work of divine grace, which demands our thankful praises. But doubtless it is a more
affecting evidence of almighty power, a more illustrious display of sovereign mercy, when those are enlightened with the
knowledge of salvation, who nave for many ages dwelt in the grossest darkness and heathenism, and are brought to a
cheerful subjection to the government of our divine Redeemer, who |from generation to generation had remained the
voluntary slaves of" the prince of darkness."
This is that delightful scene which will present itself to the reader's view, while he attentively peruses the following
pages. Nothing certainly can be more agreeable to a benevolent and religious mind, than to see those that were sunk
in the most degenerate state of human nature, at once, not only renounce those barbarous customs they had been inured
to from their infancy, but surprisingly transformed into the character of real and devout Christians.
This mighty change was brought about by the plain and faithful preaching ofthe gospel, attended with an uncom
mon effusion of the divine Spirit, under the ministry of the Reverend David Brainerd, a Missionary employed by the
Honourable Society in Scotland, for propagating Christian Knowledge.
2 c'2

388

PREFACE.

And surely it will administer abundant matter of praise and thanksgiving to that honourable body, to find that their
generous attempt to send the gospel among the Indian nations upon the borders of New York, New Jersey, and Penn
sylvania, has met with such surprising success.
It would perhaps have been more agreeable to the taste of politer readers, if the following Journal had been cast
into a different method, and formed into one connected narrative. But the worthy author, amidst his continued labours,
had no time to spare for such an undertaking. Besides, the pious reader will take a peculiar pleasure to see this work
described in its native simplicity, and the operations of the Spirit upon the minds of these poor benighted pagans, laid
down just in the method and order in which they happened. This, it must be confessed, will occasion frequent repeti
tions ; but these, as they tend to give a fuller view of this amazing dispensation of divine grace in its rise and progress,
we trust, will be easily forgiven.
When we see such numbers of the most ignorant and barbarous of mankind, in the space of a few months, " turned
from darkness to light, and from the power of sin and Satan unto God," it gives us encouragement to wait and pray for
that blessed time, when our victorious Redeemer shall, in a more signal manner than he has yet done, display the
" banner of his cross," march on from " conquering to conquer, till the kingdoms of this world are become the king
doms of our Lord and of his Christ." Yea, we cannot but lift up our heads with joy, and hope that it may be the
dawn of that bright and illustrious day, when the Sun of Righteousness shall " arise and shine from one end of the
earth to the other ;" when, to use the language of the inspired prophets, " the Gentiles shall come to his light, and
kings to the brightness of his rising ;" in consequence of which, " the wilderness and solitary places shall be glad,
and the desert rejoice and blossom as the rose."
It is doubtless the duty of all, in their different stations, and according to their respective capacities, to use theii
utmost endeavours to bring forward this promised, this desired day. There is a great want of schoolmasters among these
christianized Indians, to instruct their youth in the English language, and the principles of the christianfaith ; for this
as yet, there is no certain provision made :* if any are inclined to contribute to so good a design, we are persuaded they
will do an acceptable service to the " kingdom of the Redeemer." And we earnestly desire the most indigent to join,
at least, in their wishes and prayers, that this work may prosper more and more, till the " whole earth is filled with the
glory of the Lord."
The CORRESPONDENTS.

RISE AND PROGRESS

REMARKABLE WORK OF GRACE, &c.

PART I.

FROM A. D. 1745 JUNE 19th TO NOV. 4m, AT CROSSWEEKSUNG AND FORKS OF DELAWARE,

Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, June, 1745.
June 19. Having spent most of my time for more than
ayearpast amongst the Indians in the Forks of Delaware
in Pennsylvania ; and having in that time made two jour
neys to Susquehannah river, far back in that province, in
order to treat with the Indians there, respecting Christianity ;
and not having had any considerable appearance of special
success in either of those places, which damped my spirits,
and was not a little discouraging tome; upon hearing that
there was a number of Indians in and about a place called
(by the Indians) Crossweeksung in New Jersey, near four
score miles south-eastward from the Forks of Delaware, I
determined to make them a visit, and see what might be
done towards the christianizing of them ; and accordingly
arrived among them this day.
I found very few persons at the place I visited, and per
ceived the Indians in these parts were very much scattered,
there being not more than two or three families in a place,
and these small settlements six, ten, fifteen, twenty, and
thirty miles, and some more, from the place I was then at.
However, I preached to those few I found, who appeared
* In the observations intermixed with the diary, after the date Juno 18th
affair into their charitable consideration ; partly in consequence of this hint,

well disposed, and not inclined to object and cavil, as the
Indians had frequently done elsewhere.
When I had concluded my discourse, I informed them
(there being none but a few women and children) that I
would willingly visit them again the next dav. Where
upon they readily set out, and travelled ten or fifteen miles,
in order to give notice to some of their friends at that dis
tance. These women, like the woman of Samaria, seemed
desirous that others might " see the man that told them
what they had done" in their lives past, and the misery
that attended their idolatrous ways.
June 20. Visited and preached to the Indians again as
I proposed. Numbers more were gathered at the invita
tions of their friends, who heard me the day before. These
also appeared as attentive, orderly, and well disposed as
the others. And none made any objection, as Indians in
other places have usually done.
June 22. Preached to the Indians again. Their num
ber, which at first consisted of about seven or eight persons,
was now increased to near thirty. There was not only a
solemn attention among them, but some considerable im
pressions, it was apparent, were made upon their minds by
and Sept 16th, 1747, it appears that some genUcmen from Boston took this
and more especially from Mr. Brainerd's application by letter.— W.

Part I.

A. D. 1745. JUNE TO NOVEMBER.

389

divine truths. Some began toft el their misery and perish
ing state, and appeared concerned for a deliverance from it.
Lord's day, June 23. Preached to the Indians, and
spent the day with them. — Their number still increased ;
and all with one consent seemed to rejoice in my coming
among them. Not a word of opposition was heard from
any of them against Christianity, although in times past
they had been as opposite to any thing of that nature, as
any Indians whatsoever. And some of them not many
months before, were enraged with my interpreter, because
he attempted to teach them something of Christianity.
June 24. Preached to the Indians at their desire, and
upon their own motion. To see poor pagans desirous of
hearing the gospel of Christ, animated me to discourse to
them, although I was now very weakly, and my spirit-
much exhausted. They attended with the greatest serious
ness and diligence ; and there was some concern for their
souls' salvation apparent among them.
June 27. Visited and preached to the Indians again.
Their number now amounted to about forty persons. Their
solemnity and attention still continued ; and a consider
able concern for their souls became very apparent among
sundry of them.
June 28. The Indians being now gathered, a consider
able number of them, from their several and distant habi
tations, requested me to preach twice a day to them, being
desirous to hear as much as they possibly could while I
was with them. I cheerfully complied with their motion,
and could not but admire the goodness of God, who, I
was persuaded, had inclined them thus to inquire after the
way of salvation.
June 29. Preached again twice to the Indians. Saw, as
I thought, the hand of God very evidentlv, and in a man
ner somewhat remarkable, making provision for their sub
sistence together, in order to their being instructed in
divine things. For this day and the day before, with only
walking a little way from the place of "our daily meeting,
they killed three deer, which were a seasonable supply for
their wants, and without which, it seems, they could not
have subsisted together in order to attend the means of
grace. Lord's day, June 30. Preached twice this day also.
Observed yet more concern and affection among the poor
heathens than ever ; so that they even constrained me to
tarry yet longer with them ; although my constitution was
exceedingly worn out, and my health much impaired by
my late fatigues and labours, and especially by my late
journey to Susquehannah in May last, in which I lodged
on the ground for several weeks together.
July 1 . Preached again twice to a very serious and at
tentive assembly of Indians, they having now learned to
attend the worship of God with christian decency in all re
spects. — There were now between forty and fifty persons
of them present, old and young.— I spent some consider
able time in discoursing with them in a more private way,
inquiring of them what they remembered of the great
truths that had been taught them from day to day ; and
may justlv say, it was amazing to see how they had re
ceived and retained the instructions given them, and what
a measure of knowledge some of them had acquired in a
few days.
July 2. W'as obliged to leave these Indians at Cross
weeksung, thinking it my duty, as soon as health would
admit, again to visit those at the Forks of Delaware.
When I came to take leave of them, and spoke something
particularly to each of them, they all earnestly inquired
when I would come again, and expressed a great desire
of being further instructed. And of their own accord
agreed, that when I should come again, they would all
meet and live together during my continuance with them ;
and that they would do their utmost endeavours to gather
all the Indians in these parts that were yet further remote.
And when I parted, one told me with many tears, " She
wished God would change her heart :" another, that " she
wanted to find Christ :" and an old man that had been
one of their chiefs, wept bitterly with concern for his
soul. I then promised them to return as speedily as my
health and business elsewhere would admit, and felt not a
little concerned at parting, lest the good impressions then
apparent upon numbers of them, might decline and wear

off, when the means came to cease ; and yet could not
but hope that he who, I trusted, had begun a good work
among them, and who I knew did not stand in need of
means to carry it on, would maintain and promote it. At
the same time I must confess, that I had often seen en
couraging appearances among the Indians elsewhere prove
wholly abortive ; and it appeared the favour would be so
great, if God should now, after I had passed through so
considerable a series of almost fruitless labours and fatigues,
and after my rising hopes had been so often frustrated
among these poor pagans, give me any special success in
my labours with them. I could not believe, and scarce
dared to hope, that the event would be so happy, and
scarce ever found myself more suspended between hope
and fear, in any affair, or at any time, than this.
This encouraging disposition and readiness to receive
instruction, now apparent among these Indians, seems to
have been the happy effect of the conviction that one or
two of them met with some time since at the Forks of
Delaware, who have since endeavoured to show their
friends the evil of idolatry, &c. And although the other
Indians seemed but little to regard, but rather to deride
them, yet this, perhaps, has put them into a thinking pos
ture of mind, or at least, given them some thoughts about
Christianity, and excited in some of them a curiosity to
hear, and so made way for the present encouraging atten
tion. An apprehension that this might be the case here,
has given me encouragement that God may in such a man
ner bless the means I have used with Indians in other
places, where there is as yet no appearance of it. If so,
may his name have the glory of it ; for I have learned by
experience that he only can open the ear, engage the at
tention, and incline the heart of poor benighted, prejudiced
pagans to receive instruction.
Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, July, 1745.
Lord's day, July 14. Discoursed to the Indians twice,
several of whom appeared concerned, and were, I have
reason to think, in some measure convinced by the divine
Spirit of their sin and misery ; so that they wept much the
whole time of divine service. — Afterwards discoursed to a
number of white people then present.
July 18. Preached to my people, who attended dili
gently, beyond what had been common among these
Indians : and some of them appeared concerned for their
souls. Lord's day, July 21. Preached to the Indians first, then
to a number of white people present, and in the afternoon
to the Indians again. — Divine truth seemed to make very
considerable impressions upon several of them, and caused
the tears to flow freely. — Afterwards I baptized my inter
preter and his wife, who were the first I baptized among
the Indians.
They are both persons of some experimental knowledge
in religion ; have both been awakened to a solemn concern
for their souls ; have to appearance been brought to a sense
of their misery and undoncness in themselves ; have both
appeared to be comforted with divine consolations ; and it
is apparent both have passed a great, and I cannot but
hope a saving, change.
It may perhaps be satisfactory and agreeable that I
should give some brief relation of the man's exercise and
experience since he has been with me, especially seeing
he is employed as my interpreter to others. — When I first
employed him in this business in the beginning of summer,
1744, he was well fitted for his work in regard of his ac
quaintance with the Indian and English language, as well
as with the manners of both nations ; and in regard of his
desire that the Indians should conform to the customs and
manners of the English, and especially to their manner of
living. But he seemed to have little or no impression of
religion upon his mind, and in that respect was verv unfit
for his work, being incapable of understanding and com
municating to others many things of importance ; so that
I laboured under great disadvantages in addressing the
Indians, for want of his having an expenmentul, as well as
more doctrinal, acquaintance with divine truths ; and, at
times, my spirits sunk and were much discouraged under
this difficulty, especially when I observed that divine

390

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

truths made little or no impressions upon his mind for
many weeks together.
He indeed behaved soberly after I employed him, (al
though before he had been a hard drinker,) and seemed
honestly engaged as far as he was capable in the perform
ance of his work ; and especially he appeared very de
sirous that the Indians should renounce their heathenish
notions and practices, and conform to the customs of the
christian worid. But still he seemed to have no concern
about his own soul, till he had been with me a considerable
time. Near the latter end of July, 1744, I preached to an as
sembly of white people, with more freedom and fervency
than I could possibly address the Indians with, without
their having first attained a greater measure of doctrinal
knowledge. At this time he was present, and was some
what awakened to a concern for his soul ; so that the next
day he discoursed freely with me about his spiritual con
cerns, and gave me an opportunity to use further endea
vours to fasten the impressions of his perishing state upon
his mind : and I could plainly perceive for some time after
this, that he addressed the Indians with more concern and
fervency than he had formerly done.
But these impressions seemed quickly to decline, and he
remained in a great measure careless and secure, until
some time late in the fall of the year following, at which
time he fell into a weak and languishing state of body, and
continued much disordered for several weeks together. At
this season divine truth took hold of him, and made deep
impressions upon his mind. He was brought under great
concern for his soul, and his exercise was not now transient
and unsteady, but constant and abiding, so that his mind
was burdened from day to day ; and it was now his great
inquiry, " What he should do to be saved ?" His spiritual
trouble prevailed, till at length his sleep, in a measure, de
parted from him, and he had little rest day or night ; but
walked about under a great pressure of mind, (for he was
still able to walk,) and appeared like another man to his
neighbours, who could not but observe his behaviour with
wonder. After he had been some time under this exercise, while
he was striving to obtain mercy, he says, there seemed to be
an impassable mountain before him. He was pressing to
wards heaven, as he thought, but " his way was hedged
up with thorns, that he could not stir an inch further." He
looked this way and that way, but could find no way at all.
He thought, if he could but make his way through these
thorns and briers, and climb up the first steep pitch of the
mountain, that then there might be hope for him ; but no
way or means could he find to accomplish this. Here he
laboured for a time, but all in vain ; he saw it was impos
sible, he says, for him ever to help himself through this in
supportable difficulty. He felt it signified nothing, " it
signified just nothing at all for him to strive and struggle
any more." And here, he says, he gave over striving, and
felt that it was a gone case with him, as to his own power,
and that all his attempts were, and for ever would be, vain
and fruitless. And yet was more calm and composed un
der this view of things, than he had been while striving
to help himself.
While he was giving me this account of his exercise, I
was not. without fears that what he related was but the
working of his own imagination, and not the effect of any
divine illumination of mind. But before I had time to dis
cover my fears, he added, that at this time he felt himself
in a miserable and perishing condition ; that he saw plain
ly what he had been doing all his days, and that he had
never done one good thing, as he expressed it. He knew, he
said, he was not guilty of some wicked actions that he knew
some others guilty of. He had not been used to steal,
quarrel, and murder; the latter of which vices are common
among the Indians. He likewise knew that he had done
many things that were right ; he had been kind to his
neighbours, Sec. But still his cry was, " that he had never
done one good thing." I knew, said he, that I had not
been so bad as some others in some things, and that I had
done many things which folks call good; but all this did
me no good now, 1 saw that " all was bad, and that I never
had done one good thing ;" — meaning- that he had never
done any thing from a right principle, and with a right

view, though he had done many things lhat were material
ly good and right. And now I thought, said he, that I
must sink down to hell, that there was no hope forme,
" because I never could do any thing that was good ;"
and if God let me alone never so long, and I should try
never so much, still I should do nothing but what is
bad, Src.
This further account of his exercise satisfied me that it
was not the mere working of his imagination, since he ap
peared so evidently to die to himself, and to be divorced
from a dependence upon his own righteousness, and good
deeds, which mankind in a fallen state are so much attach
ed to, and inclined to hope for salvation upon.
There was one thing more in his view of things at this
time that was very remarkable. He not only saw, he says,
what a miserable state he himself was in, but he likewise
saw the world around him, in general, were in the same
perishing circumstances, notwithstanding the profession
many of them made of Christianity, and the hope they en
tertained of obtaining everlasting happiness. And this he
saw clearly, " as if he was now awaked out of sleep, or had
a cloud taken from before his eyes." He saw that the life
he had lived was the way to eternal death, that he was now
on the brink of endless misery : and when he looked round,
he saw multitudes of others who had lived the same life
with himself, persons who had no more goodness than he,
and yet dreamed that they were safe enough, as he had
formerly done. He was fully persuaded by their conver
sation and behaviour, that they had never felt their sin and.
misery, as he now felt his.
After he had been for some time in this condition, sensi
ble of the impossibility of his helping himself by any thing
he could do, or of being delivered by any created arm, so
that he " had given up all for lost," as to his own attempts,
and was become more calm and composed ; then, he says,
it was borne in upon his mind as if it had been audibly
spoken to him, " There is hope, there is hope." Where
upon his soul seemed to rest and be in some measure satis
fied, though he had no considerable joy.
He cannot here remember distinctly any views he had of
Christ, or give any clear account of his soul's acceptance
of him, which makes his experience appear the more
doubtful, and renders it less satisfactory to himself and
others, than it might be, if he could remember distinctly
the apprehensions and actings of his mind at this season. —
But these exercises of soul were attended and followed
with a very great change in the man, so that it might justly
be said, he was become another man, if not a new man.
His conversation and deportment were much altered, and
even the careless world could not but admire what had
befallen him to make so great a change in his temper, dis
course, and behaviour. — And especially there was a sur
prising alteration in his public perfor-mances. He now ad
dressed the Indians with admirable fervency, and scarce
knew when to leave off: and sometimes when I had
concluded my discourse, and was returning homeward, he.
would tarry behind to repeat and inculcate what had been
spoken. His change is abiding, and his life, so far as I know, un
blemished to this day, though it is now more than six months
since he experienced this change ; in which space of time
he has been as much exposed to strong drink, as possible,
in divers places where it has been moving free as water ;
and yet has never, that I know of, discovered any hanker
ing desire after it. — He seems to have a very considerable
experience of spiritual exercise, and discourses feelingly of
the conflicts and consolations of a real Christian. His heart
echoes to the soul-humbling doctrines of grace, and he never
appears better pleased than when he hears of the absolute
sovereignty of God, and the salvation of sinners in a way
of mere free grace. He has likewise of late had more satis
faction respecting his own state, has been much enlivened
and assisted in his work, so that he has been a great com
fort to me.
And upon a view and strict, observation of his serious
and savoury conversation, his christian temper, and un
blemished behaviour for so considerable a time, as well as
his experience I have given an account of, I think that I
have reason to hope that he is " created anew in Christ
Jesus to good works."— His name is Moses Tinda Tauta-

Part 1.

A. D. 1745. JUNE TO NOVEMBER.

391

my ; he is about fifty years of age, and is pretty well ac
quainted with the pagan notions and customs of his coun
trymen, and so is the better able now to expose them. He
has, I am persuaded, already been, and I trust will yet be,
a blessing to the other Indians.
July 23. Preached to the Indians, but had few hearers :
those who are constantly at home seem of late to be under
some serious impressions of a religious nature.
July 26. Preached to my people, and afterwards bap-
tized-my interpreter's children-
Lords day, July 28. Preached again, and perceived my
people, at least some of them, more thoughtful than ever
about their souls' concerns. I was told by some, that their
seeing my interpreter and others baptized, made them
more concerned than any thing they had ever seen or heard
before. There was indeed a considerable appearance of
divine power amongst them when that ordinance was ad
ministered. May that divine influence spread and increase
more abundantly !
July 30. Discoursed to a number of my people, and
gave them some particular advice and direction, being now
about to leave them for the present, in order to renew my
visit to the Indians in New Jersey. They were very at
tentive to my discourse, and earnestly desirous to know
when I designed to return to them again.
Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, August, 1745.
Aug. 3. I visited the Indians in these parts in June
last, and tarried with them some considerable time,
preaching almost daily : at which season God was pleased
to pour upon them a spirit of awakening and concern for
their souls, and surprisingly to engage their attention to
divine truths. I now found them serious, and a number
of them under deep concern for an interest in Christ f
their convictions of their sinful and perishing state
having, in my absence from them, been much promoted
by the labours and endeavours of the Reverend Mr.
William Tennent, to whom I had advised them to apply
for direction, and whose • house they frequented much
while I was gone.  1 preached to them this day with
some view to Rev. xxii. 17. "And whosoever will, let
him take the water of life freely :" though I could not
pretend to handle the subject methodically among them.
The Lord, I am persuaded, enabled me, in a manner
somewhat uncommon, to set before them the Lord
Jesus Christ as a kind and compassionate Saviour, in
viting distressed and perishing sinners to accept everlast
ing mercy. And a surprising concern soon became appar
ent among them. There were about twenty adult persons
together, (many of the Indians at remote places not having
as yet had time to come since my return hither,) and not
above two that I could see with dry eyes. Some were
much concerned, and discovered vehement longings of
soul after Christ, to save them from the misery they felt
and feared.
Lord's day, Aug. 4. Being invited by a neighbouring
minister to assist in the administration of the Lord's sup
per, I complied with his request, and took the Indians
along with me ; and not only those that were together
the day before, but many more that were coming to hear
me ; so that there were near fifty in all, old and young. —
Thev attended the several discourses of the day, and some
of them that could understand English, were much af
fected, and all seemed to have their concern in some mea
sure raised.
Now a change in their manners began to appear very
visible. In the evening when they came to sup together,
they would not taste a morsel till they had sent to me to
come and ask a blessing on their food ; at which time
sundry of them wept, especially when I minded them how
they had in times past eat their feasts in honour to devils,
and neglected to thank God for them.
Aug. 5. After a sermon had been preached by another
minister, I preached, and concluded the public work of the
solemnity from John vii. 37. " In the last day," &c. and
in my discourse addressed the Indians in particular, who
sat by themselves in a part of the house ; at which time
one or two of them were struck with deep concern, as they
afterwards told me, who had been little affected before":

others had their concern increased to a considerable de
gree. In the evening (the greater part of them being at
the house where I lodged) I discoursed to them, and
found them universally engaged about their souls' concerns,
inquiring " What they should do to be saved ?" And all
their conversation among themselves turned upon religious
matters, in which they were much assisted by my inter
preter, who was with them day and night.
This day tliere was one woman, who had been much
concerned for her soul, ever since she first heard me
preach in June last, who obtained comfort, I trust, solid
and well grounded : she seemed to be filled with love to
Christ, at the same time behaved humbly and tenderly,
and appeared afraid of nothing so much as of grieving and
offending him whom her soul loved.
Aug. 6. In the morning I discoursed to the Indians at
the house where I lodged : many of them were then much
affected, and appeared surprisingly tender, so that a few
words about their souls' concerns would cause the tears to
flow freely, and produce many sobs and groans. — —
In the afternoon, they being returned to the place
where I had usually preached amongst them, I again dis
coursed to them there. There were about fifty-five persons
in all, about forty that were capable of attending divine
service with understanding. I insisted upon 1 John iv.
10. " Herein is love," &c. They seemed eager of hearing;
but there appeared nothing very remarkable, except their
attention, till near the close of my discourse ; and then
divine truths were attended with a surprising influence,
and produced a great concern among them. There was
scarce three in forty that could refrain from tears and bit
ter cries. They all, as one, seemed in an agony of soul to
obtain an interest in Christ ; and the more I discoursed of
the love and compassion of God in sending his Son to suf
fer for the sins of men, and the more I invited them to
come and partake of his love, the more their distress was
aggravated, because they felt themselves unable to come.
— It was surprising to see how their hearts seemed to be
pierced with the tender and melting invitations of the
gospel, when there was not a word of terror spoken to
them. There were this day two persons that obtained relief
and comfort, which (when I came to discourse with them
particularly) appeared solid, rational, and scriptural. After
I had inquired into the grounds of their comfort, and said
many things I thought proper to them, I asked them what
they wanted God to do further for them ? They replied,
" They wanted Christ should wipe their hearts quite clean,"
&c. — Surprising were now the doings qf the Lord, that I
can say no less of this day (and I need say no more of it)
than that the arm of the Lord was powerfully and marvel
lously revealedin it.
Aug. 7. Preached to the Indians from Isa. liii. 3. —
10. There was a remarkable influence attending the word,
and great concern in the assembly ; but scarce equal to
what appeared the day before, that is, not quite so
universal. However, most were much affected, and many
in great distress for. their souls; and some few could
neither go nor stand, but lay flat on the ground, as if
pierced at heart, crying incessantly for mercy. Several
were newly awakened, and it was remarkable, that as fast
as they came from remote places round about, the Spirit
of God seemed to seize them with concern for their souls.
After public service was concluded, I found two per
sons more that had newly met with comfort, of whom I
had good hopes : and a third that I could not but enter
tain some hopes of, whose case did not appear so clear as
the other ; so that here were now six in all that had got
some relief from their spiritual distresses, and five whose
experience appeared very clear and satisfactory. And it
is worthy of remark, that those who obtained comfort
first, were in general deeply affected with concern for tlieir
souls, when I preached to them in June last.
Aug. 8. In the afternoon I preached to the Indians ;
their number was about sixty-five persons, men, women,
and children : I discoursed from Luke xiv. 16 — 23. and
was favoured with uncommon freedom in my discourse. —
There was much visible concern among them while I was
discoursing publicly.; but afterwards when I spoke to one
and another more particularly, whom I perceived under

392

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

much concern, the power of God seemed to descend upon
the assembly " like a rushing mighty wind," and with an
astonishing energy bore down all before it.
I stood amazed at the influence that seized the audience
almost universally, and could compare it to nothing
more aptly than the irresistible force of a mighty torrent
or swelling deluge, that with its insupportable weight and
pressure bears down and sweeps before it whatever is
in its way. Almost all persons of all ages were bowed
down with concern together, and scarce one was able to
withstand the shock of this surprising operation. Old men
and women who had been drunken wretches for many
years, and some little children not more than six or seven
years of age, appeared in distress for their souls, as well as
persons of middle age. And it was apparent these chil
dren (some of them at least) were not merely frighted with
seeing the general concern ; but were made sensible of
their danger, the badness of their hearts, and their misery
without Christ, as some of them expressed it. The most
stubborn hearts were now obliged to bow. A principal
man among the Indians, who before was most secure and
self-righteous, and thought his state good because he
knew more than the generality of the Indians had formerly
done, and who with a great degree of confidence the day
before, told me " he had been a Christian more than ten
years," was now brought under solemn concern for his
soul, and wept bitterly. Another man advanced in years,
who had been a murderer, a powow, (or conjurer,) and a
notorious drunkard, was likewise brought now to cry for
mercy with many tears, and to complain much that he
could be no more concerned when he saw his danger so
verv great.
They were almost universally praying and crying for
mercy in every part of the house, and many out of doors,
and numbers could neither go nor stand. Their concern
was so great, each one for himself, that none seemed to
take any notice of those about them, but each prayed freely
for himself. And, I am led to think, they were to their
oivn apprehension as much retired as if they had been
individually bv themselves in the thickest desert; or,
I believe rather, that they thought nothing about any but
themselves and their own states, and so were every one
praying apart, although all together.
It seemed to me there was now an exact fulfilment of
that prophecy, Zech. xii. 10,11, 12. for there was now "a
great mourning, like the mourning of Hadadrimmon ;" —
and each seemed to " mourn apart." Methought this had
a near resemblance to the day of God's power mentioned
Josh. x. 14. for I must say, I never saw any day like it in
all respects : it was a day wherein I am persuaded the
Lord did much to destroy the kingdom of darkness among
this people.
This concern in general was most rational and just,
those who had been awakened any considerable time,
complained more especially ofthe badness of their hearts;
and those newly awakened of the badness of their lives
and actions past ; and all were afraid of the anger of God,
and of everlasting misery as the desert of their sins. — Some
of the white people, who came out of curiosity to " hear
what this babbler would say" to the poor ignorant Indians,
were much awakened, and some appeared to be wounded
with a view of their perishing state.
Those who had lately obtained relief, were filled with
comfort at this season ; they appeared calm and composed,
and seemed to rejoice in Christ Jesus ; and some of them
took their distressed friends by the hand, telling them of
the goodness of Christ, and the comfort that is to be enjoyed
in him, and thence invited them to come and give up their
hearts to him. And I could observe some of them in the
most honest and unaffected manner, (without any design
of being taken notice of,) lifting up their eyes to heaven, as
if crying for mercy, while they saw the distress of the poor
souls around them.
There was one remarkable instance of awakening this
day, that I cannot but take particular notice of here. A
young Indian woman, who I believe never knew before
she had a soul, nor ever thought of any such thing, hear
ing that there was something strange among the Indians,
came it seems to see what was the matter. In her way to
the Indians she called at my lodgings, and when 1 told

her I designed presently to preach to the Indians, laughed
and seemed to mock ; but went however to them. I had
not proceeded far in my public discourse before she felt
effectually that she had a soul ; and before I had con
cluded my discourse, was so convinced of her sin and
misery, and so distressed with concern for her soul's sal
vation, that she seemed like one pierced through with a
dart, and cried out incessantly. She could Deither go nor
stand, nor sit on her seat without being held up. After
public service was over, she lay flat on the ground praying
earnestly, and would take no notice of, nor gii e any answer
to, any that spoke to her. I hearkened to know what she
said, and perceived the burden of her prayer to be, Gut-
tummaukalummeh wechaumeh kmeleh Ndah, i. e. " Have
mercy on me, and help me to give you my heart." And
thus she continued praying incessantly for many hours to
gether. — This was indeed a surprising day of God's power,
and seemed enough to convince au atheist of the truth,
importance, and power of God's word.
Aug. 9. Spent almost the whole day with the Indians,
the former part of it in discoursing to many of them pri
vately, and especially to some who had lately received
comfort, and endeavouring to inquire into the grounds of
it, as well as to give them some proper instructions, cau
tions, and directions.
In the afternoon discoursed to them publicly. There
were now present about seventy persons, old and young.
I opened and applied the parable of the sower, Matt. xiii.
Was enabled to discourse with much plainness, and found
afterwards that this discourse was very instructive to
them. There were many tears among them while I was
discoursing publicly, but no considerable cry : yet some
were much affected with a few words spoken from Matt.
xi. 28. " Come unto me, all ye that labour," &c. with
which I concluded my discourse. But while I was dis
coursing near night to two or three of the awakened per
sons, a divine influence seemed to attend what was spoken
to them in a powerful manner, which caused the persons
to cry out in anguish of soul, although I spoke not a word
of terror ; but, on the contrary, set before them the fulness
and all-sufficiency of Christ's merits, and his willingness to
save all that came to him ; and thereupon pressed them to
come without delay.
The cry of these was soon heard by others, who, though
scattered before, immediately gathered round. I then
proceeded in the same strain of gospel-invitation, till they
were all melted into tears and cries, except two or three ;
and seemed in the greatest distress to find and secure an
interest in the great Redeemer. — —Some who had but lit
tle more than a ruffle made in their passions the day be
fore, seemed now lo be deeply affected and wounded at
heart : and the concern in general appeared near as preva
lent as it was the day before. There was indeed a very
great mourning among them, and yet every one seemed to
mown apart. For so great was their concern, that almost
every one was praying and crying for himself, as if none
had been near. Gultummuukulummeh, guttummaukalum-
meh, i.e. " Have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me;"
was the common cry.
It was very affecting to see the poor Indians, who the
other day were hallooing and yelling in their idolatrous
feasts and drunken frolics, now crying to God with such
importunity for an interest in his dear Son ! — Found two
or three persons, who, I had reason to hope, had taken
comfort upon good grounds since the evening before : and
these, with others that had obtained comfort, were toge
ther, and seemed to rejoice much that God was carrying
on his work with such power upon others.
Aug. 10. Rode to the Indians, and began to discourse
more privately to those who had obtained comfort and
satisfaction ; endeavouring to instruct, direct, caution, and
comfort them. But others being eager of hearing every
word that related to spiritual concerns, soon came toge
ther one after another ; and when I had discoursed to the
young converts more than half an hour, they seemed much
melted with divine things, and earnestly desirous to be
with Christ. I told them of tho godly soul's perfect pu
rity and full enjoyment of Christ, immediately upon its
separation from the body; and that it would be for ever
inconceivably more happy than they had ever been for any

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A. D. 1745. JUNE TO NOVEMBER.

393

short space of time, when Christ seemed near to them in
prayer or other duties. And that I might make way for
speaking of the resurrection of the body, and thence of
the complete blessedness of the man, I said, But perhaps
some of you will say, I love my body as well as my
soul, and I cannot bear to think that my bodv should lie
dead if my soul is happy. To which they all cheerfully
replied, Muttoh, muttoh, (before I had opportunity to
prosecute what I designed respecting the resurrection,)
No, no. They did not regard their bodies, if their souls
might but be with Christ. — Then they appeared " willing
to tie absent from the body that they might be present
with the Lord."
When I had spent some time with these, I turned to
the other Indians, and spoke to them from Luke xix. 10.
" For the Son of man is come to seek," &c. I had not
discoursed long before their concern rose to a great degree,
and the house was filled with cries and groans. And
when I insisted on tho compassion and care of the
Lord Jesus Christ for those that were lost, who thought
themselves undone, and could find no way of escape, this
melted them down the more, and aggravated their distress,
that they could not find and come to so kind a Saviour.
Sur.dry persons who before had been but slightly
awakened, were now deeply wounded with a sense of their
sin and misery. And one man in particular, who was
never before awakened, was now made to feel that " the
word of the Lord was quick and powerful, sharper than
any two-edged sword." He seemed to be pierced at
heart with distress, and his concern appeared most rational
and scriptural : for he said, " all the wickedness of his
past life was brought fresh to his remembrance, and he
saw all the vile actions he had done formerly as if done
but yesterday."
Found one that had newly received comfort, after press
ing distress from day to day. Could not but rejoice and
admire divine goodness in what appeared this day. There
seems to be some good done by every discourse ; some
newly awakened every day, and some comforted. — It was
refreshing to observe the conduct of those that had ob
tained comfort, while others were distressed with fear and
concern ; that is, lifting up their hearts to God for them.
Lord's day, Aug. 11. Discoursed in the forenoon from
the parable of the prodigal son, Luke xv. Observed no
such remarkable effect of the word upon the assembly as
in days past. — There were numbers of careless spectators
of the white people ; some Quakers, and others. — In the
afternoon I discoursed upon a part of St. Peter's sermon,
Acts ii. and at the close of my discourse to the Indians,
made an address to the white people, and divine truths
seemed then to be attended with power both to English
and Indians. Several of the white heathen were awakened,
and could not longer be idle spectators, but found thev
had souls to save or lose as well as the Indians ; and
a great concern spread through the whole assembly. So
that this also appeared to be a day of God's power, espe
cially towards the conclusion of it, although the influence
attending the word seemed scarce so powerful now as in
some days past.
The number of the Indians, old and young, was now
upwards of seventy, and one or two were newly awakened
this day, who never had appeared to be moved with con
cern for their souls before. — Those who had obtained
relief and comfort, aud had given hopeful evidences of
having passed a saving change, appeared humble and
devout, and behaved in an agreeable and christian-like
manner. I was refreshed to see the tenderness of con
science manifest in some of them, one instance of which
I cannot but notice. Perceiving one of them very sorrow
ful in the morning, I inquired into the cause of her
sorrow, and found the difficulty was, she had been angry
with her child the evening before, and was now exercised
with fears, lest her anger had been inordinate and sinful,
which so grieved her, that she waked and began to sob
before day-light, and continued weeping for several hours
together. "
Aug. 14. Spent the day with the Indians. There was
one of them who had some time since put away his wife,
(as is common among them,) and taken another woman,
and being now brought under some serious impressions,

was much concerned about that affair in particular, and
seemed fully convinced of the wickedness of that practice,
and earnestly desirous to know what God would have him
do in his present circumstances. When the law of God
respecting marriage had been opened to them, and the
cause of his leaving his wife inquired into ; and when it
appeared she hadgiven him no just occasion by unchastity
to desert her, and that she was willing to forgive his past
misconduct, and to live peaceably with him for the future,
and that she moreover insisted on it as her right to enjoy
him ; he was then told, that it was his indispensable duty
to renounce the woman he had last taken, and receive the
other who was his proper wife, and live peaceably with
her during life. With this he readily and cheerfully com
plied, and thereupon publicly renounced the woman he
had last taken, and publicly promised to live with and be
kind to his wife during life, she also promising the same
to him. — And here appeared a clear demonstration of the
power of God's word upon their hearts. I suppose a few
weeks before, the whole world could not have persuaded
this man to a compliance with christian rules in this affair.
I was not without fears, lest this proceeding might be
like putting " new wine into old bottles," and that some
might be prejudiced against Christianity, when they saw
the demands made by it. But the man being much con
cerned about the matter, the determination of it could be
deferred no longer, and it seemed to have a good, rather
than an ill, effect among the Indians, who generally
owned, that the laws of Christ were good and right
respecting the affairs of marriage.— In the afternoon I
preached to them from the apostle's discourse to Cornelius,
Acts x. 34, &c. There appeared some affectionate con
cern among them, though not equal to what appeared in
several of the former days. They still attended and heard
as for their lives, and the Lord's work seemed still to be
promoted, and propagated among them.
Aug. 15. Preached from Luke iv. 16 — 21. " And he
came to Nazareth," &c. The word was attended with
power upon the hearts of the hearers. There was much
concern, many tears, and affecting cries among them, and
some in a special manner were deeply wounded and
distressed for their souls. There were some newly
awakened who came but this week, and convictions
seemed to be promoted in others. — Those who had re
ceived comfort, were likewise refreshed and strengthened,
and the work of grace appeared to advance in all respects.
The passions of the congregation in general were not so
much moved, as in some days past, but their hearts
seemed as solemnly and deeply affected with divine truths
as ever, at least in many instances, although the concern
did not seem to be so universal, and to reach every in
dividual in such a manner as it had appeared to do some
days before.
Aug. 16. Spent a considerable time in conversing
privately with sundry of the Indians. Found one that had
got relief and comfort, after pressing concern, and could
not but hope, when I came to discourse particularly with
her, that her comfort was of the right kind. — In the after
noon, I preached to them from John vi. 26 — 34. Toward
the close of my discourse, divine truths were attended with
considerable power upon the audience, and more espe
cially after public service was over, when I particularly
addressed sundry distressed persons.
There was a great concern for their souls spread pretty
generally among them ; but especially there were two
persons newly awakened to a sense of their sin and misery,
one of whom was lately come, and the other had all along
been very attentive, and desirous of being awakened, but
could never before have any lively view of her perishing
state. But now her concern and spiritual distress was
such, that, I thought, I had never seen any more pressing.
Sundry old men were also in distress for their souls ; so
that they could not refrain from weeping and crying out
aloud, and their bitter groans were the most convincing, as
well as affecting, evidence of the reality and depth of their
inward anguish. — God is powerfully at work among them !
True and" genuine convictions of sin are daily promoted
in many instances, and some are newly awakened from
time to time, although some few, who felt a commotion in
their passions in days past, seem now to discover that their

394

BRAINERD'S LIFE AND DIARY.

hearts were never duly affected. I never saw the work of
God appear so independent of means as at this time. I
discoursed to the people, and spoke what, I suppose, had
a proper tendency to promote convictions; but God's
manner of working upon them appeared so entirely super
natural, and above means, that I could scarce believe he
used me as an instrument, or what I spake as means of
carrying on his work ; for it seemed, as I thought, to have
no connexion with, nor dependence upon, means in any
respect. And although I could not but continue to use
the means which I thought proper for the promotion of
the work, yet God seemed, as I apprehended, to work
entirely without them. I seemed to do nothing, and
indeed to have nothing to do, but to " stand still and see
the salvation of God ;" and found myself obliged and
delighted to say, " Not unto us," not unto instruments
and means, " but to thy name be glory." God appeared
to work entirely alone, and I saw no room to attribute any
part of this work to any created arm.
Aug. 17. Spent much time in private conferences with
the Indians. Found one who had newly obtained relief
and comfort, after a long season of spiritual trouble and
distress — he having been one of my hearers in the Forks
of Delaware for more than a year, and now followed me
here under deep concern for his soul — and had abundant
reason to hope that his comfort was well grounded, and
truly divine. — Afterwards discoursed publicly from Acts
viii. 29 — 39. and took occasion to treat concerning baptism,
in order to their being instructed and prepared to partake
of that ordinance. They were yet hungry and thirsty for
the word of God, and appeared unwearied in their attend
ance upon it.
Lord's day, Aug. 18. Preached in the forenoon to an
assembly of white people, made up of Presbyterians, Bap
tists, Quakers, &c. Afterwards preached to the Indians
from John vi. 35 — 40. " He that eateth my flesh," &c.
There was considerable concern visible among them, though
not equal to what has frequently appeared of late.
Aug. 19. Preached from Isa. Iv. 1. " Ho, every one
that thirsteth," &c. Divine truths were attended with
power upon those who had received comfort, and others
also. The former were sweetly melted and refreshed with
divine invitations, the latter much concerned for their
souls, that they might obtain an interest in these glorious
gospel-provisions that were set before them. There were
numbers of poor impotent souls that waited at the pool for
heating, and the angel seemed, as at other times of late, to
trouble the waters ; so that there was yet a most desirable
and - comfortable prospect of the spiritual recovery of
diseased, perishing sinners.
Aug. 23. Spent some time with the Indians in private
discourse; afterwards preached to them from John vi.
44 — 50. " No man can come to me, except," &c. There
was, as has been usual, a great attention and some affection
among them. Several appeared deeply concerned for their
souls, and could not but express their inward anguish by
tears and cries. But the amazing divine influence that has
been so powerfully among them in general, seems, at pre
sent, in some degree abated, at least in regard of its uni
versality, though .many who have got no special comfort,
still retain deep impressions of divine things.
Aug. 24. Spent the forenoon in discoursing to some of
the Indians, in order to their receiving the ordinance of
baptism. When I had opened the nature of the ordinance,
the obligations attending it, the duty of devoting ourselves
to God in it, and the privilege of being in covenant with
him, sundry of them seemed to be filled with love to God,
and delighted with the thoughts of giving up themselves
to him in that solemn and public manner, melted and
refreshed with the hopes of enjoying the blessed Re^
deemer. Afterwards I discoursed publicly from 1 Thess. iv.13 —
17. " But I would not have you be ignorant," &c. There
was a solemn attention, and some visible concern and
affection in the time of public service, which was after
wards increased by some further exhortation given them to
come to Christ, and give up their hearts to him, that they
might be fitted to " ascend up and meet him in the air,"
when he shall " descend with a shout, and the voice of the
archangel."

There were several Indians newly come, who thought
their state good, and themselves happy, because they had
sometimes lived with the white people under gospel-light,
had learned to read, were civil, &c. although they appeared
utter strangers to their own hearts, and altogether unac
quainted with the power of religion, as well as with the
doctrines qf grace. With those I discoursed particularly
after public worship, and was surprised to see their self-
righteous disposition, their strong attachment to the cove
nant of works for salvation, and the high value they put
upon their supposed attainments. — Yet after much dis
course, one appeared in a measure convinced, that " by
the deeds of the law no flesh living can be justified," and
went bitterly, inquiring " what he must do to be sa\ed !"
This was very comfortable to others, who had gained
some experimental acquaintance with their own hearts; for
before they were grieved with the conversation and conduct
of these new comers, who boasted of their knowledge, and
thought well of themselves, but evidently discovered to
those that had any experience of divine truths, that they
knew nothing of their own hearts.
Lord's day, Aug. 25. Preached in the forenoon from
Luke xv. 3 — 7. There being a multitude of white people
present, I made an address to them, at the close of my
discourse to the Indians: but could not so much as keep
them orderly ; for scores of them kept walking and gazing
about, and behaved more indecently than any Indians I
ever addressed ; and a view of their abusive conduct so
sunk my spirits, that I could scarce go on with my work.
. In the afternoon discoursed from Rev. iii. 20. at which
time the Indians behaved seriously, though many others
were vain. — Afterwards baptized twenty-five persons of the
Indians, fifteen adults, and ten children. Most of the
adults I haie comfortable reason to hope are renewed per
sons; and there was not one of them but what I enter
tained some hopes of in that respect, though the case of
two or three of them appeared more doubtful.
After the crowd of spectators was gone, I called the
baptized persons together, and discoursed to them in par
ticular, at the same time inviting others to attend. I
minded them of the solemn obligations they were now
under to live to God, warned them of the evil and dreadful
consequences of careless living, especially after this pub
lic profession of Christianity ; gave them directions for
their future conduct, and encouraged them to watchfulness
and devotion, by setting before them the comfort and
happy conclusion of a religious life.-  This was a desirable
and sweet season indeed ! Their hearts were engaged and
cheerful in duty, and they rejoiced that they had in a pub
lic and solemn manner dedicated themselves to God. —
Love seemed to reign among them ! They took each other
by the hand with tenderness and affection, as if their hearts
were knit together, while I was discoursing to. them : and
all their deportment toward each other was such, lhat a
serious spectator might justly be excited to cry out with
admiration, " Behold how they love one another !" Sundry
of the other Indians, at seeing and hearing these things,
were much affected, and wept bitterly, longing to be par
takers ofthe same joy and comfort that ihese discovered by
their very countenances as well as conduct.
Aug. 26. Preached to my people from John vi. 51—
55. After I had discoursed some time, I addressed those
in particular who entertained hopes that they were " passed
from death to life." Opened to them the persevering na
ture of those consolations Christ gives his people, and
which I trusted he had bestowed upon some in that as
sembly ; showed them that such have already the " begin
nings of eternal life," (ver. 54.) and that their heaven shall
speedily be completed, &c.
I no sooner began to discourse in this strain, but the
dear Christians in the congregation began to be melted with
affection to, and desire of, the enjoyment of Christ, and of
a state of perfect purity. They wept affectionately, and yet
joyfully, and their tears and sobs discovered brokenness of
heart, and yet were attended with real comfort and sweet
ness; so lhat this was a tender, affectionate, humble, de
lightful melting, and appeared to be the genuine effect of a
Spirit of adoption, and very far from that spirit of bondage
that they not long since laboured under. The influence
seemed to spread from these through the whole assembly,

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A. D. 1745. JUNE TO NOVEMBER.

395

and there quickly appeared a wonderful concern among
them. Manv who had not yet found Christ as an all-
sufficient Saviour, were surprisingly engaged in seeking
after him. It was indeed a lovely and very desirable as
sembly. Their number was now about ninety-five per
sons, old and young, and almost all affected either with
joy in Christ Jesus, or with utmost concern to obtain an
interest in him.
Being fully convinced it was now my duty to take a
journey far back to the Indians on Susquehannah river,
(it being now a proper season of the year to find them
generally at home,) after having spent some hours in pub
lic and private discourses with my people, I told them,
that I must now leave them for the present, and go to their
brethren far remote, and preach to them ; that I wanted
the Spirit of God should go with me, without whom
nothing could be done to any good purpose among the In
dians—as they themselves had opportunity to see, and ob
serve, by the 'barrenness of our meetings at some times,
when there was much pains taken to affect and awaken
sinners, and yet to little or no purpose — and asked them,
if they could not be willing to spend the remainder of the
day in prayer for me, that God would go with me, and suc
ceed my endeavours for the conversion of those poor souls.
They cheerfully complied with the motion, and soon after I
left them (the sun being then about an hour and a half
high at night) they began, and continued praying all night,)
till break qf day, or very near, never mistrusting, they tell
me, till they went out and viewed the stars, and saw the
morning-star a considerable height, that it was later than
common bed-time. Thus eager and unwearied were they
in their devotions ! A remarkable night it was, attended,
as my interpreter tells me, with a powerful influence upon
those who were yet under concern, as well as those that
had received comfort.
There were, I trust, this day two distressed souls brought
to the enjoyment of solid comfort in him, in whom the
weary find rest. — It was likewise remarkable, that this day
an old Indian, who has all his days been an obstinate
idolater, was brought to give up his rattles (which they use
for music in their idolatrous feasts and dances) to the other
Indians, who quickly destroyed them ; and this without
any attempt of mine in the affair, I having said nothing to
him about it; so that it seemed it was nothing but just
the power of God's word, without any particular applica
tion to this sin, that produced this effect. Thus God has
begun, thus he has hitherto surprisingly carried on a work
of grace amongst these Indians. May the glory be ascribed
to him, who is the sole Author of it !
Forks op Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Sept. 1745.
Lord's day, Sept. 1 . Preached to the Indians here from
Luke xiv. 16 — 23. The word appeared to be attended
with some power, and caused some tears in the assembly.
¦ — Afterwards preached to a number of white people pre
sent, and observed many of them in tears, and some who
had formerly been as careless and unconcerned about re
ligion perhaps as the Indians. — Towards night discoursed
to the Indians again, and perceived a greater attention, and
more visible concern among them than has been usual in
these parts.
Sept. 3. Preached to the Indians from Isa. liii. 3 — 6.
" He is despised and rejected of men," &c. The divine
presence seemed to be in the midst ofthe assembly, and a
considerable concern spread amongst them. Sundry per
sons seemed to be awakened, amongst whom were two
stupid creatures that I could scarce ever before keep awake
while I was discoursing to them. Could not but rejoice
at this appearance of things, although at the same time I
could not but fear, lest the concern they at present mani
fested, might prove like a morning cloud, as something of
that nature had formerly done in these parts.
Sept. 5. Discoursed to the Indians from the parable of
the sower, afterwards conversed particularly with sundry
persons, which occasioned them to weep, and even cry
out in an affecting manner, and seized others with surprise
and concern ; and I doubt not but that a divine power
accompanied what was then spoken. Sundry of these
persons had been with me to Crossweeksung, and had

there seen, and some of them, I trust, felt the power of
God's word in an effectual and saving manner. I asked
one of them, who had obtained comfort, and given hopeful
evidences of being truly religious, Why he now cried ?
He replied, " When he thought how Christ was slain like
a lamb, and spilt his blood for sinners, he could not help
crying, when he was all alone :" and thereupon burst out into
tears and cries again. I then asked his wife, who had
likewise been abundantly comforted, wherefore she cried ?
She answered, " She was grieved that the Indians here
would not come to Christ, as well as those at Crossweek
sung." I asked her if she found a heart to pray for them,
and whether Christ had seemed to be near to her of late
in prayer, as in time past ? (which is my usual method of
expressing a sense of the divine presence.) She replied,
" Yes, he had been near to her ; and that at some times
when she had been praying alone, her heart loved to pray
so, that she could not bear to leave the place, but wanted
to stay and pray longer."
Sept. 7. Preached to the Indians from John vi. 35 —
39. There was not so much appearance of concern among
them as at several other times of late ; yet they appeared
serious and attentive.
Lord's day, Sept. 8. Discoursed to the Indians in the
forenoon from John xii. 44 — 50. in the afternoon from
Acts ii. 36 — 39. The word of God at this time seemed
to fall with weight and influence upon them. There were
but few present, but most tha.t were, were in tears, and
sundry cried out under distressing concern for their
souls. There was one man considerably awakened, who never
before discovered any concern for his soul. There appear
ed a remarkable work of the divine Spirit among them,
almost generally, not unlike what has been of late at Cross
weeksung. It seemed as if the divine influence had
spread from thence to this place ; although something of it
appeared here in the awakening of my interpreter, his wife,
and some few others.
Sundry of the careless white people now present were
awakened, (or at least startled,) seeing the power of God
so prevalent among the Indians. I then made a particular
address to them, which seemed to make some impression
upon them, and excite some affection in them.
There are sundry Indians in these parts who have always
refused to hear me preach, and have been enraged against
those that have attended my preaching. But of late they
are more bitter than ever, scoffing at Christianity, and
sometimes asking my hearers, " How often they have
cried ?" and " Whether they have not now cried enough to
do the turn ? " &c. So that they have already " trial of
cruel mockings."
Sept. 9. Left the Indians in the Forks of Delaware,
and set out on ajourney towards Susquehannah river, di
recting my course towards the Indian town more than a
hundred and twenty miles west-ward from the Forks.
Travelled about fifteen miles, and there lodged.
Sept. 13. After having lodged out three nights, arrived
at the Indian town I aimed at on Susquehannah, called
Shaumoking, (one ofthe places, and the largest of them,
that I visited in May last,) and was kindly received and
entertained by the Indians : but had little satisfaction by
reason of the heathenish dance and revel they then held in
the house where I was obliged to lodge, which I could not
suppress, though I often entreated them to desist, for the
sake of one of their own friends who was then sick in the
house, and whose disorder was much aggravated by the
noise. — Alas ! how destitute of natural affection are these
poor uncultivated pagans ! although they seem somewhat
kind in their own way. Of a truth, " the dark corners of
the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty."
This town (as I observed in my Journal of May last)
lies partly on the east side of the river, partly on the west,
and partly on a large island in it, and contains upwards
of fifty houses, and they tell me, near three hundred
persons, though I never saw much more then half that num
ber in it; but of three different tribes of Indians, speaking
three languages wholly unintelligible to each other. About
one half of its inhabitants are Delawares, the others called
Senakes, and Tutelas. The Indians of this place are
counted the most drunken, mischievous, and ruffianly

396

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

fellows of any in these parts : and Satan seems to have
his scat in this town in an eminent manner.
Sept. 14. Visited the Delaware king, (who was sup
posed to be at the point of death when I was here in May
last, but was now recovered,) and discoursed with him and
others respecting Christianity, and spent the afternoon
with them, and had more encouragement than I expected.
The king appeared kindly disposed, and willing to be in
structed : this gave me some encouragement that God
would open an effectual door for my preaching the gospel
here, and set up his kingdom in this place. Which
was a support and refreshment to mc in the wilderness,
and rendered my solitary circumstances comfortable and
pleasant. Lord's day, Sept. 15. Visited the chief of the Dela-
wares again ; was kindly received by him, and discoursed
to the Indians in the afternoon. Still entertained hopes
that God would open their hearts to receive the gospel,
though many of them in the place were so drunk from day
to day, that I could get no opportunity to speak to them.
Towards night discoursed with one that understood the
languages of the Six Nations, (as they are usually called,)
who discovered an inclination to hearken to Christianity ;
which gave me some hopes that the gospel might hereafter
be sent to those nations far remote.
Sept. 16. Spent the forenoon with the Indians, endea
vouring to instruct them from house to house, and to en
gage them, as far as I could, to be friendly to Christianity.
Towards night went to one part of the town where they
were sober, and got together near fifty persons of them,
and discoursed to them, having first obtained the king's
cheerful consent.  There was a surprising attention
among them, and they manifested a considerable desire of
being further instructed. There was also one or two
that seemed to be touched with some concern for their
souls, who appeared well pleased with some conversation in
private, after 1 had concluded my public discourse to them.
My spirits were much refreshed with this appearance of
things, and I could not but return with my interpreter
("having no other companion in this journey) to my poor
hard lodging*, rejoicing in hopes that God designed to set
up his kingdom here, where Satan now reigns in the most
eminent manner ; and found uncommon freedom in ad
dressing the throne of grace for the accomplishment of so
great and glorious a work.
Sept. 17. Spent the forenoon in visiting and discours
ing to the Indians. About noon left Shaumoking, (most
ofthe Indians going out this day on their hunting design,)
and travelled down the riier south-westward.
Sept. 19. Visited an Indian town called Juncauta,
situate on an island in Susquehannah. Was much dis
couraged with the temper and behaviour of the Indians
here, although they appeared friendly when I was with them
the last spring, and then gave me encouragement lo come
and see them again. But they now seemed resolved to
retain their pagan notions, and persist in their idolatrous
practices. Sept. 20. Visited the Indians again at Juncauta island,
and found them almost universally very busy in making
preparations for a great sacrifice and dance. Had no op
portunity to get them together in order to discourse -with
them about Christianity, by reason of their being so much
engaged about their sacrifice. My spirits were much sunk
with a prospect so very discouraging, and especially see
ing I had now no interpreter but a pagan, who was as
much attached to idolatry as any of them ; (my own inter
preter having left me the day before, being obliged to at
tend upon some important business elsewhere, and know
ing that he could neither speak nor understand the language
of these Indians ;) so that I was under the greatest disad
vantages imaginable. However, I attempted to discourse
privately with some of them, but without any appearance
of success : notwithstanding, I still tarried with them.
In the evening they met together, near a hundred of
them, and danced round a large fire, having prepared ten
fat deer for the sacrifice. The fat of whose inwards they
burnt in the fire while they were dancing, and sometimes
raised the flame to a prodigious height, at the same time
yelling and shouting in such a manner, that they might
easily have been heard two miles or more. — They con

tinued their sacred dance all night, or near the matter,
after which they ate the flesh of the sacrifice, and so retired
each one to his lodging.
I enjoyed little satisfaction this night, being entirely
alone on the island, (as to any christian company,) and in
the midst of this idolatrous revel ; and having walked to
and fro till body and mind were pained and much oppress
ed, I at length crept into a little crib made for corn, and
there slept on the poles.
Lord's day, Sept. 21. Spent the day with the Indians
on the island. As soon as they were well up in the morn
ing, I attempted to instruct them, and laboured for that
purpose to get them together, but quickly found they had
something else to do ; for near noon they gathered together
all their powows, (or conjurers,) and set about half a
dozen of them to playing their juggling tricks, and acting
their frantic distracted postures, in order to find out why
they were then so sickly upon the island, numbers of them
being at that time disordered with a fever, and bloody
flux. In this exercise they were engaged for several hours,
making ail the wild, ridiculous, and distracted motions
imaginable; sometimes singing; sometimes howling;
sometimes extending their hands to the utmost stretch,
spreading all their fingers ; and they seemed to push with
them, as if they designed to fright something away, or at
least keep it off at arm's-end ; sometimes stroking their
faces with their hands, then spurting water as fine as mist ;
sometimes sitting flat on the earth, then bowing down their
faces to the ground ; wringing their sides, as if in pain and
anguish ; twisting their faces, turning up their eyes, grunt
ing, puffing, &c.
Their monstrous actions tended to excite ideas of horror,
and seemed to have something in them, as I thought, pe
culiarly suited to raise the devil, if he could be raised by
any thing odd, ridiculous, and frightful. Some of them, I
could observe, were much more fervent and devout in the
business than others, and seemed to chant, peep, and mut
ter with a great degree of warmth and vigour, as if deter
mined to awaken and engage the powers below. I sat at
a small distance, not more than thirty feet from them,
(though undiscovered,) with my Bible in my hand, re
solving, if possible, to spoil their sport, and prevent their
receiving any answers from the infernal world, and there
viewed the whole scene. They continued their hideous
charms and incantations for more than three hours, until
they had all wearied themselves out, although they had in
that space of time taken sundry intervals of rest ; and at
length broke up, I apprehended, without receiving any
answer at all.
After they had done powowing, I attempted to dis
course with them about Christianity ; but they soon scat
tered, and gave me no opportunity for any thing of that
nature. A view of these things, while I was entirely alone
in the wilderness, destitute of the societv of any one that
so much as " named the name of Christ," greatly sunk my
spirits, gave me the most gloomy turn of mind imaginable,
almost stripped me of all resolution and hope respecting
further attempts for propagating the gospel, and converting
the pagans, and rendered this the most burdensome and
disagreeable sabbath that ever I saw. But nothing, I can
truly say, sunk and distressed me like the loss of my hope
respecting their conversion. This concern appeared so
great, and seemed to be so much my own, that I seemed
to have nothing to do on earth if this failed. A prospect
of the greatest success in the saving conversion of souls
under gospel-light, would have done little or nothing to
wards compensating for the loss of my hope in this
respect ; and my spirits now were so damped and de
pressed, that I had no heart nor power to make any further
attempts among them for that purpose, and could not pos
sibly recover my hope, resolution, and courage, by the ut
most of mv endeavours.
The Indians of this island can many of them understand
the English language considerably well, having formerly
lived in some part of Maryland among or near the white
people, but are very vicious, drunken, and profane, although
not so savage as those who have less acquaintance with the
English. Their customs in divers respects differ from
those of other Indians upon this river. They do not bury
their dead in a common form, but let their flesh consume

Part 1.

A. D. 1745. JUNE TO NOVEMBER.

397

above-ground in close cribs made for that purpose ; and
at the end of a year, or sometimes a longer space of time,
they take the bones, when the flesh is ail consumed, and
wash and scrape them, and afterwards bury them with
some ceremony. — Their method of charming or conjuring
over the sick, seems somewhat different from that of other
Indians, though for substance the same : and the whole of
it, among these and others, perhaps is an imitation of what
seems, by Naaman 's expression, 2 Kings v. 11, to have
been the custom of the ancient heathens. For'it seems
chiefly to consist in their " striking their hands over the
diseased," repeatedly stroking them, '' and calling upon
their gods," excepting the spurting of water like a mist,
and some other frantic ceremonies, common to the other
conjurations I have already mentioned.
When I was in these parts in May last, I had an oppor
tunity of learning many of the notions and customs of the
Indians, as well as of observing many of their practices.
I then travelled more than a hundred and thirty miles
upon the river above the English settlements ; and had in
that journey a view of some persons of seven or eight dis
tinct tribes, speaking so many different languages. But
of all the sights I ever saw among them, or indeed any
where else, none appeared so frightful, or so near akin to
what is usually imagined of infernal powers — none ever
excited such images of terror in my mind — as the appear
ance of one who was a devout and zealous reformer, or
rather restorer of what he supposed was the ancient reli
gion of the Indians. — He made his appearance in his
pontifical garb, which was a coat of bears' skins, dressed
with' the hair on, and hanging down to his toes, a pair of
bear-skin stockings, and a great wooden face, painted the
one half black, and the other tawny, about the colour of
an Indian's skin, with an extravagant mouth, cut very
much awry ; the face fastened to a bear-skin cap, which
was drawn over his head. He advanced toward me with
the instrument in his hand that he used for music in his
idolatrous worship, which was a dry tortoise-shell, with
sone corn in it, and the neck of it drawn on to a piece of
wood, which made a very convenient handle. As he came
forward, he beat his tune with the rattle, and danced with
all his might, but did not suffer any part of his body, not
so much as his fingers, to be seen : and no man would
have guessed by his appearance and actions, that he could
have been a human creature, if they had not had some in
timation of it otherwise. When he came near me, I could
not but shrink away from him, although it was then noon
day, and I knew who it was, his appearance and gestures
were so prodigiously frightful . He had a house consecrated
to religious uses, with divers images cut out upon the seve
ral parts of it ; I went in and found the ground beat almost
as hard as a rock with their frequent dancing in it. — I dis
coursed with him about Christianity, and some of my
discourse he seemed to like, but some of it he disliked
entirely. He told me that God had taught him his reli
gion, and that he never would turn from it, but wanted to
find some that would join heartily with him in it ; for the
Indians, he said, were grown very degenerate and corrupt.
He had thoughts, he said, of leaving all his friends, and
travelling abroad, in order to find some that would join
with him; for he believed God had some good people
somewhere that felt as he did. He had not always, he
said, felt as he now did, but had formerly been like the
rest of the Indians, until about four or five years before
that time : then he said his heart was very much distress
ed, so that he could not live among the Indians, but got
away into the woods, and lived alone for some months.
At length, he says, God comforted his heart, and showed
him what he should do ; and since that time he had
known God and tried to serve him ; and loved all men,
be they who they would, so as he never did before. — He
treated me with uncommon courtesy, and seemed to be
hearty in it. — And I was told by the Indians, that he op
posed their drinking strong liquor with all his power ; and
if at any time he could not dissuade them from it, by all
he could say, he would leave them and go crying into the
woods. It was manifest he had a. set of religious notions
that he had looked into for liimself, and not taken for
granted upon bare tradition ; and he relished or disrelish
ed whatever was spoken of a religious nature accord

ing as it either agreed or disagreed with his standard.
And while I was discoursing he would sometimes say,
" Now that I like : so God has taught me," &c. And
some of his sentiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly
denied the being of a devil, and declared there was no
such a creature known among the Indians of old times,
whose religion he supposed he was attempting to revive.
He likewise told me that departed souls all went south
ward, and that the difference between the good and bad
was this, that the former were admitted into a beautiful
town with spiritual walls, or walls agreeable to the nature
of souls ; and that the latter would for ever hover round
those wails, and in vain attempt to get in. He seemed to
be sincere, honest, and conscientious in his own way, and
according to his own religious notions, which was more
than I ever saw in any other pagan. I perceived he was
looked upon and derided amongst most of the Indians
as a precise zealot, that made a needless noise about reli
gious matters ; but I must say, there was something in
his temper and disposition that looked more like true re
ligion than any thing I ever observed amongst other hea
thens. But, alas ! how deplorable is the state of the Indians
upon this river ! The brief representation I have here
given of their notions and manners, is sufficient to show
that they are " led captive by Satan at his will," in the
most eminent manner : and, methinks, might likewise be
sufficient to excite the compassion, and engage the prayers,
of pious souls for these their fellow-men, who sit in " the
regions of the shadow of death."
Sept. 22. Made some further attempts to instruct and
christianize the Indians on this island, but all to no pur
pose. They live so near the white people, that they are
always in the way of strong liquor, as well as the ill ex
amples of nominal Christians ; which renders it so un
speakably difficult to treat with them about Christianity.
Forks of Delaware, October, 1745.
Oct. 1 . Discoursed to the Indians here, and spent some
time in private conferences with them about their souls'
concerns, and afterwards invited them to accompany, or if
not, to follow, me down to Crossweeksung, as soon as their
convemency would admit ; which invitation sundry of
them cheerfully accepted.
Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, October, 1745.
Preached to my people from John xiv. 1 — 6. The di
vine presence seemed to be in the assembly. Numbers
were affected with divine truths, and it was" a season of
comfort to some in particular. — O what a difference is
there between these and the Indians I had lately treated
with upon Susquehannah ! To be with those seemed like
being banished from God, and all his people ; to be with
these, like being admitted into his family, and to the en
joyment of his divine presence ! How great is the change
lately made upon numbers of these Indians, who not
many months ago were as thoughtless and averse to Chris
tianity as those upon Susquehannah ! and how astonishing
is that grace which has made this change !
Lord's day, Oct. 6. Preached in the forenoon from
John x. 7 — 11. There was a considerable melting among
my people ; the dear young Christians were refreshed,
comforted, and strengthened, and one or two persons new
ly awakened. — In the afternoon I discoursed on the story
of the jailer, Acts xvi. and in the evening expounded
Acts xx. 1 — 12. There was at this time a very agreeable
melting spread through the whole assembly. I think I
scarce ever saw a more desirable affection in any number
of people in my life. There was scarce a dry eye to be
seen among them, and yet nothing boisterous or unseemly,
nothing that tended to disturb the public worship ; but
rather to encourage and excite a christian ardour and
spirit of devotion. Those who, I have reason to hope,
were savingly renewed, were first affected and seemed to
rejoice much, but with brokenness of spirit and godly fear.
Their exercises were much the same with those mentioned
in my Journal of August 26, evidently appearing to be
the genuine effect of a Spirit of adoption.

398

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

After public service was over I withdrew, (being much
tired witn the labours of the day,) and tlie Indians con
tinued praying among themselves for near two hours to
gether ; which continued exercises appeared to be attend
ed with a blessed quickening influence from on high. — I
could not but earnestly wish that numbers of God's peo
ple had been present at this season, to see and hear these
things, which I am sure must refresh the heart of every
true lover of Zion's interest. To see those who very late
ly were savage pagans and idolaters, " having no hope,
and without God in the world," now filled with a sense of
divine love and grace, and worshipping the " Father in
spirit and in truth," as numbers here appeared to do, was
not a little affecting ; and especially to see them appear so
tender and humble, as well as lively, fervent, and devout
in the divine service.
Oct. 24. Discoursed from John. iv. 13, 14 There was
a great attention, a desirable affection, and an unaffected
melting in the assembly. — It is surprising to see how eager
they are of hearing the word of God. I have oftentimes
thought they would cheerfully and diligently attend divine
worship twenty-four hours together, had they an oppor
tunity so to do.
Oct. 25. Discoursed to my people respecting the resur
rection, from Luke xx. 27 — 36. And when 1 came to
mention the blessedness the godly shall enjoy at that
season ; their final freedom from death, sin, and sorrow ;
their equality to the angels in regard of their nearness to,
and enjoyment of, Christ; (some imperfect degree of which
they are favoured with in the present life, from whence
springs their sweetest comfort;) and their being the chil
dren qf God, openly acknowledged by him as such ; I say,
when I mentioned these things, numbers of them were
much affected, and melted with a view of this blessed
state. Oct. 26. Being called to assist in the administration of
the Lord's supper, in a neighbouring congregation, I in
vited my people to go with me, who in general embraced
the opportunity cheerfully, and attended the several dis
courses of that solemnity with diligence and affection,
most of them now understanding something of the Eng
lish language.
Lord's day, Oct. 27. While I was preaching to a vast
assembly of people abroad, who appeared generally easy
and secure enough, there was one Indian woman, a
stranger, who never heard me preach before, nor ever re
garded any thing about religion — being now persuaded by
some of her friends to come to meeting, though much
against her will — -was seized with pressing concern for her
soul, and soon after expressed a great desire of going home,
more than forty miles distant, to call her husband, that he
also might be awakened to a concern for his soul. Some
other of the Indians also appeared to be affected with
divine truths this day.
The pious people of the English, numbers of whom I
had opportunity to converse with, seemed refreshed with
seeing the Indians worship God in that devout and solemn
manner with the assembly of his people : and with those
mentioned Acts xi. 18. they could not but " glorify God,
saying, Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted re
pentance unto life."
Oct. 28. Preached again to a great assembly, at which
time some of my people appeared affected; and when
public worship was over, were inquisitive whether there
would not be another sermon in the evening, or before the
sacramental solemnity was concluded ; being still desirous
to hear God's word. Crossweeksung,
Oct. 28. Discoursed from Matt. xxii. 1—13. I was
enabled to open the Scripture, and adapt my discourse
and expressions to the capacities of my people, I know
not how, in a plain, easy, and familiar manner, beyond all
that I could have done by the utmost study : and this,
without any special difficulty ; yea, with as much freedom
as if I had been addressing a common audience, who had
been instructed in the doctrine of Christianity all their
days. * The man particularly mentioned in my Journal of August 10th, as

Tlie word of God at this time seemed to fall upon the
assembly with a divine power and influence, especially
toward the close of my discourse : there was both a sweet
melting and bitter mourning in the audience. — The dear
Christians were refreshed and comforted, — convictions re
vived in others, and sundry persons newly awakened who
had never been with us before ; and so much of the divine
presence appeared in the assembly, that it seemed " this
was no other than the house of God, and the gate of
heaven." And all that had any savour and relish of divine
things were even constrained by the sweetness of that
season to say, " Lord, it is good for us to be here !" If
ever there was amongst my people an appearance of the
New Jerusalem  " as a bride adorned for her husband,"
there was much of it at this time ; and so agreeable was
the entertainment where such tokens of the divine pre
sence were, that I could scarce be willing in the evening
to leave the place, and repair to my lodgings. I was re
freshed with a view of the continuance of this blessed
work of grace among them, and its influence upon strangers
of the Indians that had of late, from time to time, provi
dentially fallen into these parts.
Nov. 1 . Discoursed from Luke xxiv. briefly explaining
the whole chapter, and insisting especially upon some
particular passages. — The discourse was attended with
some affectionate concern upon some of the hearers, though
not equal to what has often appeared among them.
Lord's day, Nov. 3. Preached to my people from
Luke xvi. 17. " And it is easier for heaven and earth," &c.
more especially for the sake of several lately brought
under deep concern for their souls. There was some
apparent concern and affection in the assembly, though far
less than has been usual of late.
Afterwards I baptized fourteen persons of the Indians,
six adults and eight children : one of these was near four
score years of age, and I have reason to hope God has
brought her savingly homo to himself. Two of the others
were men of fifty years old, who had been singular and
remarkable, even among the Indians, for their wickedness;
one of them had been a murderer, and both notorious
drunkards, as well as excessively quarrelsome ; but now I
cannot but hope both are become subjects of God's special
grace, especially the worst of them.* I deferred their
baptism for many weeks after they had given evidences of
having passed a great change, that I might have more
opportunities to observe the fruits of the impressions they
had been under, and apprehended the way was now clear.
There was not one of the adults I baptized, but what had
given me some comfortable grounds to hope, that God had
wrought a work of special grace in their hearts ; although
I couid not have the same degree of satisfaction respect
ing one or two of them, as the rest.
Nov. 4. Discoursed from John xi. briefly explaining
most of the chapter.  Divine truths made deep impres
sions upon many in the assembly ; numbers were affected
with a view of the power of Christ, manifested in his
raising the dead; and especially when this instance of his
power was improved to show his power and ability to raise
dead souls (such as many of them then felt themselves to
be) to a spiritual life ; as also to raise the dead at the last
day, and dispense to them due rewards and punish
ments. There were sundry of the persons lately come here from
remote places, that were now brought under deep and
pressing concern for their souls, particularly one — who not
long since came half drunk, and railed on us, and attempt
ed by all means to disturb us while engaged in the divine
worship — was now so concerned and distressed for her soul,
that she seemed unable to get any ease without an interest
in Christ. There were many tears and affectionate sobs and
groans in the assembly in general, some weeping for them
selves, others for their friends. And although persons are
doubtless much easier affected now, than they were in the
beginning of this religious concern, when tears and cries
for their souls were things unheard of among them ; yet I
must say, their affection in general appeared genuine and
unfeigned; and especially this appeared very conspicuous
in those newly awakened. So that true and genuine
being then awakened.

Part I.

GENERAL REMARKS.

399

convictions of sin seem still to be begun and promoted in
many instances.
Baptized a child this day, and perceived sundry of the
baptized persons affected with the administration of this
ordinance, as being thereby reminded of their own solemn
engagements. — '
I have now baptized in all forty-seven persons of the
Indians, twenty-three adults, and twenty-four children ;
thirty-five of them belonging to these parts, and the rest to
the Forks of Delaware : and, through rich grace, none of
them as yet have been left to disgrace their profession of
Christianity by any scandalous or unbecoming behaviour.

GENERAL REMARKS ON PART FIRST.
I might now justly make many remarks on a work of
grace so very remarkable as this has been in divers respects;
but shall confine myself to a few general hints only.
Is/, It is remarkable that God began this work among
the Indians at a time when I had the least hope, and, to
my apprehension, the least rational prospect of, seeing a
work of grace propagated amongst them. My bodily
strength being then much wasted by a late tedious journey
to Susquehannah, where I was necessarily exposed to
hardships and fatigues among the Indians : my mind being
also exceedingly depressed with a view of the unsuccess-
fulness of my labours. I had little reason so much as to
hope that God had made me instrumental in the saving
conversion of any of the Indians, except my interpreter
and "iiis wife. Whence I was ready to look upon myself
as a burden to the Honourable Society, that employed and
supported me in this business, and began to entertain
serious thoughts of giving up my mission; and almost re
solved I would do so at the conclusion of the present year,
if I had then no better prospect of special success in my
work than I had hitherto had. I cannot say I entertained
these thoughts because I was weary of the labours and
fatigues that necessarily attended my present business, or
because I had light and freedom in my own mind to turn
any other way ; but purely through dejection of spirit,
pressing discouragement, and an apprehension of its being
unjust to spend money consecrated to religious uses, only
to civilize the Indians, and bring them to an external pro
fession of Christianity. This was all that I could then
see any prospect of having effected, while God seemed, as
I thought, evidently to frown upon the design of their
saving conversion, by withholding the convincing and
renewing influences of his blessed Spirit from attending
the means I had hitherto used with them for that end.
And in this frame of mind I first visited these Indians
at Crossweeksung, apprehending it was my indispensable
duty, seeing I had heard there was a number in these
parts, to make some attempts for their conversion to God,
though I cannot say I had any hope of success, my spirits
being now so extremely sunk. And I do not know that
my hopes respecting the conversion of the Indians were
ever reduced to so low an ebb, since I had any special
concern for them, as at this time. — And yet this was the
very season that God saw fittest to begin this glorious
work in ! And thus he " ordained strength out of weak
ness," by making bare his almighty arm at a time when
all hopes and human probabilities most evidently appeared
to fail — Whence I learn, that it is good to follow the path
qf duty, though in the midst qf darkness and discouragement.
Idly, It is remarkable how God providentially, and in a
manner almost unaccountable, called these Indians toge
ther to be instructed in the great things that concerned
their souls ; and how he seized their minds with the most
solemn and weighty concern for their eternal salvation, as
fast as they came to the place where his word was preach
ed. When I first came into these parts in June, I found
not one man at the place I visited, but only four women
and a few children, but before I had been here many days
they gathered from all quarters, some from more than
twenty miles distant ; and when I made them a second
visit in the beginning of August, some came more than
forty miles to hear me. — And many came without any in
telligence of what was going on here, and consequently

without any design of theirs, so much as to gratify their
curiosity; so that it seemed as if God had summoned
them together from all quarters for nothing else but to
deliver his message to them ; and that he did this, with
regard to some of them, without making use of any human
means ; although there were pains taken by some of them
to give notice to others at remote places.
Nor is it less surprising that they were one after another
affected with a solemn concern for their souls, almost as
soon as they came upon the spot where divine truths were
taught them. I could not but think often, that their coming
to the place of our public worship, was like Saul and his
messengers coming among the prophets ; they no sooner
came but they prophesied ; and these were almost as soon
affected with a sense of their sin and misery, and with an
earnest concern for deliverance, as they made their appear
ance in our assembly. — After this work of grace began
with power among them, it was common for strangers of
the Indians, before they had been with us one day, to be
much awakened, deeply convinced of their sin and misery,
and to inquire with great solicitude, " What they should
do to be saved ?"
Zdly, It is likewise remarkable how God preserved these
poor ignorant Indians from being prejudiced against me,
and the truths I taught them, by those means that were
used with them for that purpose by ungodly people. There
were many attempts made by some ill-minded persons of
the white people to prejudice them against, or fright them
from, Christianity. They sometimes told them, the In
dians were well enough already : — that there was no need
of all this noise about Christianity : — that if they were
Christians, they would be in no better, no safer, or happier
state, than they were already in, &c.
Sometimes they told them that I was a knave, a de
ceiver, and the like : that I daily taught them lies, and
had no other design but to impose upon them, &c. And
when none of these, and such like suggestions, would avail
to their purpose, they then tried another expedient, and
told the Indians, " My design was to gather together as
large a body of them as I possibly could, and then sell
them to England for slaves." Than which nothing could
be more likely to terrify the Indians, they being naturally
of a jealous disposition, and the most averse to a state of
servitude perhaps of any people living.
But all these wicked insinuations, through divine good
ness overruling, oonstantly turned against the authors of
them, and only served to engage the affections of the In
dians more firmly to me : for they being awakened to a
solemn concern for their souls, could not but observe, that
the persons who endeavoured to imbitter their minds
against me, were altogether unconcerned about their own
souls, and not only so, but vicious and profane; and
thence could not but argue, that if they had ho concern
for their own, it was not likely they should have for the
souls of others.
It seems yet the more wonderful that the Indians were
preserved from once hearkening to these suggestions, inas
much as I was an utter stranger among them, and could
give them no assurance of my sincere affection to and
concern for them, by any thing that was past, — while the
persons that insinuated these things were their old ac
quaintance, who had frequent opportunities of gratifying
their thirsty appetites with strong drink, and consequently,
doubtless, had the greatest interest in their affections. —
But from this instance of their preservation from fatal pre
judices, I have had occasion with admiration to say, " If
God will work, who can hinder ?"
Athly, Nor is it less wonderful how God was pleased to
?rovide a remedy for my want of skill and freedom in the
ndian language, by remarkably fitting my interpreter for,
and assisting him in, the performance of his work. It
might reasonably be supposed I must needs labour under
a vast disadvantage in addressing the Indians by an inter
preter; and that divine truths would unavoidably lose
much of the energy and pathos with which they might at
first be delivered, Dy reason of their coming to the audience
from a second hand. But although this has often, to my
sorrow and discouragement, been the case in times past,
when my interpreter had little or no sense of divine things,
yet now it was quite otherwise. I cannot think my ad-

400

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

dresses to the Indians ordinarily since the beginning of
this season of grace, have lost any thing of their power or
pungency with which they were made, unless it were
sometimes for want of pertinent and pathetic terms and
expressions in the Indian language ; which difficulty could
not have been much redressed by my personal acquaint
ance with their language. — My interpreter had before
gained some good degree of doctrinal knowledge, whereby
he was rendered capable of understanding and communi
cating, without mistakes, the intent and meaning of my
discourses, and that without being confined strictly, and
obliged to interpret verbatim. He had likewise, to appear
ance, an experimental acquaintance with divine things ;
and it pleased God at this season to inspire his mind with
longing desires for the conversion of the Indians, and to
give him admirable zeal and fervency in addressing them
in order thereto. And it is remarkable, that when I was
favoured with any special assistance in any work, and en
abled to speak with more than common freedom, fervency,
and power, under a lively and affecting sense of divine
things, he was usually affected in the same manner almost
instantly, and seemed at once quickened and enabled to
speak in the same pathetic language, and under the same
influence that I did. And a surprising energy often ac
companied the word at such seasons ; so that the face of
the whole assembly would be apparently changed almost
in an instant, and tears and sobs became common among
them .
He also appeared to have such a clear doctrinal view of
God's usual methods of dealing with souls under a prepa
ratory work of conviction and humiliation as he never had
before; so that I could, with his help, discourse freely with
the distressed persons about their inter~nal exercises, their
fears, discouragements, temptations, &c. He likewise took
pains day and night to repeat and inculcate upon the minds
of the Indians the truths I taught them daily ; and this he
appeared to do, not from spiritual pride, and an affec
tation of setting himself up as a public teacher, but from
a spirit of faithfulness, and an honest concern for their
souls. His conversation among the Indians has likewise, so far
as I know, been savoury, as becomes a Christian and a
person employed in his work ; and I may justly say, he has
been a great comfort to me, and a great instrument of pro
moting this good work among the Indians : so that what
ever be the state of his own soul, it is apparent God has
remarkably fitted him for this work. — And thus God has
manifested that, without bestowing on me the gift of
tongues, he could find a way wherein I might be as effec
tually enabled to convey the truths of his glorious gospel
to the minds of these poor benighted pagans.
5thly, It is further remarkable, that God has carried on
his woik here by such means, and in such a manner, as tend
ed to obviate, and leave no room for, those prejudices and
objections that have often been raised against such a work.
When persons have been awakened to a solemn concern
for their souls, by hearing the more awful truths of God's
word, and the terrors of the divine law, insisted upon, it
has usually in such cases been objected by some, that such
persons were only frighted with a fearful noise of hell and
damnation ; and that there was no evidence that their con
cern was the effect of a divine influence. But God has
left no room for this objection in the present case, this work
of grace having been begun and carried on by almost one
continued strain of gospel invitation to perishing sinners.
This may reasonably be guessed, from a view of"lhe pas
sages of Scripture I chiefly insisted upon in my discourses
from time to time ; which I have for that purpose inserted
in my Journal.
Nor have I ever seen so general an awakening in any
assembly in my life as appeared here, while I was opening
and insisting upon the parable of the great supper, Luke
xiv. In which discourse I was enabled to set before my
hearers the unsearchable riclies of gospel-grace  Not that
I would be understood here, that I never instructed the
Indians respecting their fallen state, and the sinfulness and
misery of it; for this was what I at first chiefly insisted
upon with them, and endeavouring to repeat and inculcate
in almost every discourse, knowing that without this
foundation I should but build upon the sand; and that it

would be in vain to invite them to Christ, unless I could
convince them of their need of him, Mark ii. 17.
But still, this great awakening, this surprising concern,
was never excited by any harangues of terror, but always
appeared most remarkable when I insisted upon the com
passions qf a dying Saviour, the plentiful provisions qf the
gospel, and the free offers qf divine grace to needy, dis
tressed sinners. — Nor would I be understood to insinuate,
that such a religious concern might justly be suspected —
as not being genuine, and from a divine influence — because
produced by the preaching of terror: for this is perhaps
God's more usual way of awakening sinners, and appears
entirely agreeable to Scripture, and sound reason. — But
what I meant here to observe is, that God saw fit to em
ploy and bless milder means for the effectual awakening of
these Indians, and thereby obviated the forementioned ob
jection, which the world might otherwise have had a more
plausible colour of making.
And as there has been no room for any plausible objec
tion against this work, in regard of the means ; so neither
in regard of the manner in which it has been carried on. 
It is true, persons' concern for their souls has been exceed
ing great, the convictions of their sin and misery have risen
to a high degree, and produced many tears, cries, and
groans : but then they have not been attended with those
disorders, either bodily or mental, that have sometimes pre
vailed among persons under religious impressions. 
There has here been no appearance of those convulsions,
bodily agonies, frightful screamings, swoonings, and tbe like,
that have been so much complained of in some places ; al
though there have been some who, with the jailer, have
been made to tremble under a sense of their sin and misery,
 numbers who have been made to cry out from a dis
tressing view of their perishing state,  and some that
have been, for a time, in a great measure, deprived of
their bodily strength, yet without any such convulsive
appearances. Nor has there been any appearance of mental disorders
here, such as visions, trances, imaginations of being under
prophetic inspiration, and the like ; or scarce any unbe
coming disposition to appear remarkably affected either
with concern or joy ; though I must confess, I observed
one or two persons, whose concern, I thought, was in a
considerable measure affected ; and one whose joy appear
ed to be of the same kind. But these workings of spi
ritual pride I endeavoured to crush in their first appear
ances, and have not since observed any affection, either of
joy or sorrow, but what appeared genuine and unaffected.
Biit, Gthly, and lastly, The effects of this work have likewise
been very remarkable. I doubt not but that many of these
people have gained more doctrinal knowledge of divine
truths, since i first visited them in June last, than could
have been instilled into their minds by the most diligent
use of proper and instructive means for whole years to
gether, without such a divine influence. Their pagan
notions and idolatrous practices seem to be entirely aban
doned in these parts. They are regulated, and appear re
gularly disposed, in the affairs of marriage ; an instance
whereof I have given in my Journal of August 14. They
seem generally divorced from drunkenness, their darling
vice, the " sin that easily besets them ;" so that I do not
know of more than two or three who have been my steady
hearers, that have drank to excess since I first visited theni,
although before it was common for some or other of them
to be drunk almost every day : and some of them seem
now to fear this sin in particular more than death itself. A
principle of honesty and justice appears in many of them,
and they seem concerned to discharge their old debts,
which they have neglected, and perhaps scarce thought of,
for years past. Their manner of living is much more de
cent and comfortable than formerly, having now the benefit
of that money which they used to consume upon strong
drink. Love seems to reign among them, especially those
who have given evidences of having passed a saving
change : and I never saw any appearance of bitterness oi
censoriousness in these, nor any disposition to " esteem
themselves better than others," who had not received the
like mercy.
As their sorrows under convictions have been great and

Part I.

GENERAL REMARKS.

401

pressing, so many of them have since appeared to " rejoice
with joy unspeakable, and full of glory ;" and vet I never
saw any thing ecstatic or flighty in their joy. Their conso
lations do not incline them to lightness ; but, on the con
trary, are attended with solemnity, and oftentimes with tears,
and an apparent brokenness qf heart, as may be seen in
several passages of my Journal : and in this respect some
of them have been surprised at themselves, and nave with
concern observed to me, that " when their hearts have
been glad," (which is a phrase they commonly make use of
to express spiritual joy,) " they could not help crying for
all." And now, upon the whole, I think I may justly say,
here are all the symptoms and evidences of a remarkable
work of grace among these Indians, that can reasonably be
desired or looked for. May the great Author of this work
maintain and promote the same here, and propagate it
every where, till " the whole earth be filled with his glory !"
Amen. I have now rode more than three thousand miles, that
I have kept an exact account of, since the beginning of
March last ; and almost the whole of it has been in my
own proper business as a missionary, upon the design (either
immediately or more remotely) of propagating christian
knowledge among the Indians. I nave taken pains to
look out for a colleague, or companion, to travel with me :
and have likewise used endeavours to procure something
for his support, among religious persons in New England,
which cost me a journey of several hundred miles in
length ; but have not as yet found any person qualified
and disposed for this good work, although I had some
encouragement from ministers and others, that it was hope
ful a maintenance might be procured for one, when the
man should be found.
I have likewise of late represented to the gentlemen
concerned with this mission, the necessity of having an
English school speedily set up among these Indians, who
are now willing to be at the pains of gathering together in
a body for this purpose. And in order thereto, have
humbly proposed to them the collecting of money for the
maintenance of a schoolmaster, and defraying of other
necessary charges in the promotion of this good work ;
which they are now attempting in the several congregations
of Christians to which they respectively belong.
The several companies of Indians I have preached to
in the summer past, live at great distances from each other.
It is more than seventy miles from Crossweeksung in New
Jersey, to the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania. And
from thence to sundry of the Indian settlements I visited
on Susquehannah, is more than a hundred and twenty
miles. And so much of my time is necessarily consumed

in journeying, that I can have but little for any of my
necessary studies, and consequently for the study of the
Indian languages in particular ; and especially seeing 1
am obliged to discourse so frequently to the Indians at
each of these places while I am with them, in order to
redeem time to visit the rest. I am, at times, almost dis
couraged from attempting to gain any acquaintance with
the Indian languages, they are so very numerous, (some
account of which I gave in my Journal of May last,) and
especially seeing my other labours and fatigues engross
almost the whole of my time, and bear exceeding hard
upon my constitution, so that my health is much impaired.
 However, I have taken considerable pains to learn
the Delaware language, and propose still to do so, as far
as my other business and bodily health will admit. I
have already made some proficiency in it, though I have
laboured under many and great disadvantages in my
attempts of that nature. And it is but just to observe
here, that all the pains I took to acquaint myself with the
language of the Indians I spent my first year with, were
of little or no service to me here among the Delawares ;
so that my work, when I came among these Indians, was
all to begin anew.
As these poor ignorant pagans stood in need of having
"line upon line, and precept upon precept," in order to
their being instructed and grounded in the principles of
Christianity; so I preached "publicly, and taught from
house to house," almost every day for whole weeks together,
when I was with them. And my public discourses did
not then make up the one half of my work, while there
was so many constantly coming to me with that important
inquiry, "What must we do to be saved?" and opening
to me the various exercises of their minds. And yet I
can say, (to the praise of rich grace,) that the apparent
success with which my labours were crowned, unspeakably
more than compensated for the labour itself, and was
likewise a great means of supporting and carrying me
through the business and fatigues, which, it seems, my
nature would have sunk under, without such an encourag
ing prospect. But although this success has afforded
matter of support, comfort, and thankfulness ; yet in this
season I have found great need of assistance in my work,
and have been much oppressed for want of one to bear a
part of my labours and hardships. — " May the Lord of the
harvest send forth other labourers into' this part of his
harvest, that those who sit in darkness may see gi'eat light,
and that the whole earth may be filled with the know
ledge of himself! Amen." DAVID BRAINERD.
Nov. 20, 1745.

PART II.
FROM A. D. 1745, NOV. 24th, TO JUNE 19th, 1746, AT CROSSWEEKSUNG AND FORKS OF DELAWARE.

Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, November, ins-
Lord's day, Nov. 24. Preached both parts of the day
from the story of Zaccheus, Luke xix. 1 — 9. In the
latter exercise, when I opened and insisted upon the
salvation that comes to the sinner, upon his becoming a
son of Abraham, or a true believer, the word seemed to
be attended with divine power to the hearts of the hearers.
Numbers were much affected with divine truths ; former
convictions were revived ; one or two persons newly
awakened ; and a most affectionate engagement in divine
service appeared among them universally. — The impres
sions they were under appeared to be the genuine effect of
God's word brought home to their hearts, by the power
and influence of the divine Spirit.
Nov. 26. After having spent some time in private
conferences with my people, I discoursed publicly among
VOL. II.

them from John v. 1 — 9. I was favoured with some
special freedom and fervency in my discourse, and a
powerful energy accompanied divine truths. Many wept
and sobbed affectionately, and scarce any appeared un
concerned in the whole assembly. The influence that
seized the audience appeared gentle, and yet pungent and
efficacious. It produced no boisterous commotion of the
passions, but seemed deeply to affect the heart; and
excite in the persons under convictions of their lost state,
heavy groans and tears :— and in others who had obtained
comfort, a sweet and humble melting. It seemed like the
gentle but steady showers that effectually water the earth,
without violently beating upon the surface.  The persons
lately awakened were, some of them, deeply distressed
for their souls, and appeared earnestly solicitous to obtain
an interest in Christ : and some of them, after public
worship was over, in anguish of spirit, said, "They knew

402

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

not what to do, nor how to get their wicked hearts
changed," &c.
Nov. 28. Discoursed to the Indians publicly, after
having used some private endeavours to instruct and
excite" some in the duties of Christianity. Opened and
made remarks upon the sacred story of our Lord's trans
figuration, Luke ix. 28—36. Had a principal view,
in my insisting upon this passage of Scripture, to the edi
fication and consolation of God's people. And observed
some, that I have reason to think are truly such, exceed
ingly affected with an account of the glory of Christ in
his transfiguration ; and filled with longing desires of being
with him, that they might with open face behold his
glory. After public service was over, I asked one of them, who
wept and sobbed most affectionately, "What she now
wanted ? " She replied, " Oh, to be with Christ ! she did
not know how to stay," &c. This was a blessed refreshing
season to the religious people in general. The Lord
Jesus Christ seemed to manifest his divine glory to them,
as when transfigured before his disciples. And they, with
the disciples, were ready universally to say, " Lord, it is
good for us to be here."
The influence of God's word was not confined to those
who had given evidences of being truly gracious, though
at this time I calculated my discourse for, and directed it
chiefly to, such. But it appeared to be a season of divine
power in the whole assembly ; so that most were, in some
measure, affected. And one aged man in particular, lately
awakened, was now brought under a deep and pressing
concern for his soul, and was earnestly inquisitive "how
he might find Jesus Christ." — God seems still to vouch
safe his divine presence and the influence of his blessed
Spirit to accompany his word, at least in some measure,
in all our meetings for divine worship.
Nov. 30. Preached near night, after having spent some
hours in private conference with some of my people about
their souls' concerns. Explained and insisted upon the
story of the rich man and Lazarus, Luke xvi. 19 — 26.
The word made powerful impressions upon many in the
assembly, especially while I discoursed of the blessedness
of " Lazarus in Abraham's bosom." This, I could per
ceive, affected them much more than what I spoke of the
rich man's misery and torments. And thus it has been
usually with them. They have almost always appeared
much more affected with the comfortable than the dreadful
truths of God's word. And that which has distressed
many of them under convictions is, that they found they
wanted, and could not obtain, the happiness of the godly ;
at least they have often appeared to be more affected with
this, than with the terrors of hell. But whatever be the
means of their awakening, it is plain, numbers are made
deeply sensible of their sin and misery, the wickedness and
stubbornness of their own hearts, their utter inability to
help themselves, or to come to Christ for help, without
divine assistance ; and so are brought to see their perish
ing need of Christ to do all for them, and to lie at the foot
of sovereign mercy.
Lord's day, Dec. 1. Discoursed to my people in the
forenoon from Luke xvi. 27 — 31. There appeared an
unfeigned affection in divers persons, and some seemed
deeply impressed with divine truths. — In the afternoon
preached to a number of white people ; at which time
the Indians attended with diligence, and many of them
were able to understand a considerable part of the dis
course. At night discoursed to my people again, and gave them
some particular cautions and directions relating to their
conduct in divers respects. And pressed them to watch
fulness in all their deportment, seeing they were encom
passed with those that "waited for their halting," and who
stood ready to draw them into temptations of every kind,
and then to expose religion for their missteps-
Lord's day, Dec. 8. Discoursed on the story of the
blind man, John ix. There appeared no remarkable effect
ofthe word upon the assembly at this time. The persons
who have lately been much concerned for their souls,
seemed now not so affected nor solicitous to obtain an in
terest in Christ as has been usual ; although they attended
divine service with seriousness and diligence.

Such have been the doings qf the Lord here, in awaken
ing sinners, and affecting the hearts of tliose who are
brought to solid comfort, with a fresh sense of divine
things from time to time, that it is now strange to see the
assembly sit with dry eves, and without sobs and groans.
Dec. 12. Preached from the parable of the ten virgins,
Matt. xxv. The divine power seemed in some measure
to attend this discourse, in which I was favoured with un
common freedom and plainness of address, and enabled to
open divine truths, and explain them to the capacities of
my people, in a manner beyond myself.  There appeared
in many persons an affectionate concern for their souls ;
although the concern in general seemed not so deep and
pressing as it had formerly done. Yet it was refreshing
to see many melted into tears and unaffected sobs ; some
with a sense of divine love, and some for want of it.
Lord's day, Dec. 15. Preached to the Indians from
Luke xiii. 24 — 28. Divine truths fell with weight and
power upon the audience, and seemed to reach the hearts
of many. Near night discoursed to them again from Matt.
xxv. 31 — 46. At which season also the word appeared to
be accompanied with a divine influence, and made power
ful impressions upon the assembly in general, as well as
upon divers persons in a very special and particular man
ner. This was an amazing season of grace ! " The word
of the Lord," this day, " was quick and powerful, sharper
than a two-edged sword," and pierced to the hearts of
many. The assembly was greatly affected, and deeply
wrought upon ; yet without so much apparent commotion
of the passions, as was usual in the beginning of this work
of grace. The impressions made by the word of God upon
the audience appeared solid, rational, and deep, worthy of
the solemn truths by means of which they were produced,
and far from being the effects of any sudden fright, or
ground less perturbation of mind.
O how did the hearts of the hearers seem to bow under
the weight of divine truths ! And how evident did it now
appear that they received and felt them, " not as the word
of man, but as the word of God ! " None can frame a just
idea of the appearance of our assembly at this time, but
those who have seen a congregation solemnly awed, and
deeply impressed, by the special power and influence of di
vine truths delivered to them in the name of God.
Dec. 16. Discoursed to my people in the evening from
Luke xi. 1 — 13. After having insisted some time upon
the 9th verse, wherein there is a command and encourage
ment to ask for the divine favours, I called upon them to
ask for a new heart with utmost importunity, as the man
mentioned in the parable I was discoursing upon, pleaded
for loaves qf bread at midnight.
There was much affection and concern in tbe assembly ;
and especially one woman appeared iu great distress for
her soul. She was brought to such an agony in seeking
after Christ, that the sweat ran off her face for a consider
able time together, although the evening was very cold ;
and her bitter cries were the most affecting indication of
the inward anguish of her heart.
Dec. 21. My people having now attained to a consider
able degree of knowledge in the principles of Christianity,
I thought it proper to set up a catechetical lecture among
them ; and this evening attempted something in that form ;
proposing questions to them agreeable to the Reverend
Assembly's Shorter Catechism, receiving their answers, and
then explaining and insisting as appeared necessary and
proper upon each question. After which I endeavoured
to make some practical improvement of the whole. This
was the method I entered upon. — They were able readily
and rationally to answer many important questions I pro
posed to them : so that, upon trial, I found their doctrinal
knowledge to exceed my own expectations. In the im
provement of my discourse, when I came to infer and open
the blessedness "of those who have so great and glorious a
God, as had before been spoken of, " for their everlasting
friend and portion," sundry were much affected; and
especially when I exhorted, and endeavoured to persuade
them " to be reconciled to God," through his dear Son,
and thus to secure an interest in his everlasting favour. So
that they appeared to be not only enlightened and instructed,
but affected and engaged in their souls' concern by this
method of discoursing.

Part II.

A. D. 1745, NOVEMBER— 1746, JUNE.

403

lord's day, Dec. 22. Discoursed upon the story of the
young man in the gospel, Matt. ix. 16 — 22. God made
it a seasonable word, I am persuaded, to some souls. —
There were sundry persons of the Indians newly come
here, who had frequently lived among Quakers ; and being
more civilized and conformed to English manners than the
generality of the Indians, they had imbibed some of the
Quakers errors, especially this fundamental one, viz. That
if men will but live soberly and honestly, according to the
dictates of their own consciences, (or the light within,)
there is then no danger or doubt of their salvation, &c. —
These persons I found much worse to deal with than those
who are wholly under pagan darkness, who make no pre
tences to knowledge in Christianity at all, nor have any
self-righteous foundation to stand upon. However, they
all, except one, appeared now convinced, that this sober,
honest life, of itself, was not sufficient to salvation ; since
Christ himself had declared it so in the case of the young
man. And seemed in some measure concerned to obtain
that change of heart, the necessity of which I had been
labouring to show them.
This was likewise a season of comfort to some souls,
and in particular to one, (the same mentioned in my Jour
nal of the 16th instant,) who never before obtained any
settled comfort, though I have abundant reason to thin-
she had passed a saving change some days before. — She
now appeared in a heavenly frame of mind, composed and
delighted with the divine will. When I came to discourse
particularly with her, and to inquire of her,' how she got
relief and deliverance from the spiritual distresses she had
lately been under, she answered in broken English,* " Me
try, me try, save myself, last my strength be all gone,
(meaning her ability to save herself,) could not me stir bit
further. Den last, me forced let Jesus Christ alone, send
me hell if he please." I said, But you was not willing to
fo to hell, was you ? She replied, f " Could not me help it.
ly heart he would wicked for all. Could not me make
him good ; " (meaning she saw it was right she should go
to hell because her heart was wicked, and would be so
after all she could do to mend it). I asked her, how she
got out of this case ? She answered still in the same bro
ken language,! " By by my heart be grad desperately." I
asked her why her heart was glad f She replied, " Grad
my heart Jesus Christ do what he please with me. Den
me tink, grad my heart Jesus Christ send me hell. Did
not me care where he put me, me lobe him for all," &c.
And she could not readily be convinced but that she
was willing to go to hell, if Christ was pleased to send
her there. Though the truth evidently was, her will was
so swallowed up in the divine will, that she could not
frame any hell in her imagination that would be dreadful
or undesirable, provided it was but the will of God to
send her to it. — Toward night discoursed to them again in
the catechetical method I entered upon the evening be
fore. And when I came to improve the truths I had ex
plained to them, and to answer that question, " But how
shall I know whether God has chosen me to everlasting
life," by pressing them to come and give up their hearts
to Christ, and thereby " to make their election sure ;"
they then appeared much affected : and the persons under
concern were afresh engaged in seeking after an interest in
him ; while some others who had obtained comfort before,
were refreshed to find that love to God in themselves,
which was an evidence of his electing love to them.
Dec. 25. The Indians having been used upon Christ
mas days lo drink and revel among some of the white
people in these parts, I thought it proper this day to call
them together, and discourse to them upon divine things :
which I accordingly did from the parable of the barren
fig-tree, Luke xiii. 6 — 9. A divine influence, I am per
suaded, accompanied the word at this season. The power
of God appeared in the assembly, not by producing any
remarkable cries, but by shocking and rousing at heart, as
it seemed, several stupid creatures that were scarce' ever
moved with any concern before. The power attending di
vine truths seemed to have the influence of the earthquake
* In proper English thus, " I tried and tried to save myself, till at last my
strength was all gone, and I could not stir any further. Then at last I was
forced to let Jesus Christ alone to send me to hell if he pleased."
t In plain English thus, " I could not help it. My heart would be wicked
for ail what I could do. I could not make it good."
2 D 2

rather than the whirlwind upon them. Their passions were
not so much alarmed as has been common here in times
past, but their judgments appeared to be powerfully con
vinced by themasterly and conquering influence of divine
truths. The impressions made upon the assembly in
general, seemed not superficial, but deep and heart-affect
ing. O how ready did they now appear universally to
embrace and comply with every thing they heard and
were convinced was duty ! — God was in the midst of us
of a truth, bowing and melting stubborn hearts ! How
many tears and sobs were then to be seen and heard among
us ! What liveliness and strict attention, what eagerness
and intenseness of mind, appeared in the whole assembly
in the time of divine service ! They seemed to watch and
wait for the dropping of God's word, as the thirsty earth
for the " former and latter rain."
Afterwards I discoursed to them on the duty of hus
bands and wives, from Eph. v. 22, 23. and have reason
to think this was a word in season. — Spent some time
further in the evening, in inculcating the truths I had in
sisted upon in my former discourse respecting the barren
fig-tree, and observed a powerful influence still accompany
what was spoken.
Dec. 26. This evening I was visited by a person un
der great spiritual exercise ; the most remarkable instance
of this kind I ever saw. She was a woman of (I believe)
more than fourscore years old, and appeared to be much
broken and very childish through age ; so that it seemed
impossible for man to instil into her mind any notions of
divine things, not so much as to give her any doctrinal
instruction, because she seemed incapable of being taught.
—She was led by the hand into my house, and appeared
in extreme anguish. I asked her what ailed her? She
answered, " That her heart was distressed, and she feared
she should never find Christ." I asked her when she be
gan to be concerned ? with divers other questions relating
to her distress. To all which she answered, for substance,
to this effect, viz. That she had heard me preach many
times, but never knew any thing about it, never " felt it
in her heart" till the last sabbath ; and then it came (she
said) "all one as if a needle had been thrust into her
heart ;" since which time, she had no rest day nor night.
She added, that on the evening before Christmas, a num
ber of Indians being together at the house where she was,
and discoursing about Christ, their talk pricked her heart,
so that she couid not sit up, but fell down on her bed ; at
which time she went away, (as she expressed it,) and felt
as if she dreamed, and yet is confident she did not dream.
When she was thus gone, she saw two paths ; one appeared
very broad and crooked ; and that turned to the left hand.
The other appeared straight, and very narrow; and that went
up the hill to the right hand. She travelled, she said, for
some lime up the narrow right-hand path, till at length
something seemed to obstruct her journey. She some
times called it darkness, and then described it otherwise,
and seemed to compare it to a block or bar. She then
remembered what she had heard me say about " striving
to enter in at the strait gate," (although she took little no
tice of it, at the time when she heard me discourse upon
that subject,) and thought she would climb over this bar.
But just as she was thinking of this, she came back again1,
as she termed it, meaning that she came to herself;
whereupon her soul was extremely distressed, apprehend
ing she had now turned back and forsaken Christ, and
that there was therefore no hope of mercy for her.
As I was sensible that trances and imaginary views of
things, are of dangerous tendency in religion, when sought
after, and depended upon ; so I could not but be much
concerned about this exercise, especially at first; appre
hending this might be a design of Satan to bring a blemish
upon the work of God here, by introducing visionary
scenes, imaginary terrors, and all manner of mental disor
ders and delusions, in the room Of genuine convictions of
sin, and the enlightening influences of the blessed Spirit ;
and I was almost resolved to declare that I looked upon
this to be one of Satan's, devices, and to caution my people
. I " By and by my heart was exceeding glad.  My heart was glad that
Jesus Christ would do witb me what he pleased. Then I thought my heart
would he glad although Christ sbouldsend me to hell. I did not care where
he put me, I should love him for all; i. e. do what he would with me."

404

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against it, and the like exercises, as such. — However, I
determined first to inquire into her knowledge, to see
whether she had any just views of things, that might be
the occasion of her present distressing concern, or whether
it was a mere fright arising only from imaginary terrors.
I asked her divers questions respecting man's primitive,
and more especially his present, state, and respecting her
own heart ; which she answered rationally, and to my
surprise. And 1 thought it was next to impossible, if not
altogether so, that a pagan who was become a child
through age, should in that state gain so much knowledge
by any mere human instruction, without being remarkably
enlightened by a divine influence.
I then proposed to her the provision made in the gospel
for the salvation of sinners, and the ability and willingness
of Christ " to save to the uttermost all (old as well as
young) that come to him." To which she seemed to give
a hearty assent. But instantly replied, "Ay, but I can
not come ; my wicked heart will not come to Christ ; I
do not know how to come," &c. And this she spoke in
anguish of spirit, striking on her breast with tears in her
eyes, and with such earnestness in her looks as was indeed
piteous and affecting.
She seems to be really convinced of her sin and misery,
and her need of a change of heart : and her concern is
abiding and constant. So that nothing appears but that
this exercise may have a saving issue. And indeed it
seems hopeful, seeing she is so solicitous to obtain an in
terest in Christ, that her heart (as she expresses it) prays
day and night.
How far God may make use of the imagination in,
awakening some persons under these and such like cir
cumstances, I cannot pretend to determine. Or whether
this exercise be from a divine influence, I shall leave
others to judge. But this I must say, that its effects
hitherto bespeak it to be such : nor can it, as I see, be ac
counted for in a rational way, but from the influence of
some spirit, either good or evil. For the woman, I am
sure, never heard divine things treated of in the manner
she now viewed them in ; and it would seem strange she
should get such a rational notion of them from the mere
working of her own fancy, without some superior, or at
least foreign, aid. — And yet I must say, I have looked
upon it as one ofthe glories of this work of grace among
the Indians, and a special evidence of its being from a di
vine influence, that there has, till now, been no appear
ance of such things, no visionary notions, trances, and
imaginations, intermixed with those rational convictions of
sin, and solid consolations, that numbers have been made
the subjects of. And might I have had my desire, there
had been no appearance of any thing of this nature at all.
Dec. 28. Discoursed to my people in the catechetical
method I lately entered upon. And in the improvement
of my discourse, wherein I was comparing man's present
with his primitive state ; and showing what he had fallen
from, and the miseries he is now involved in and exposed
to in his natural estate ; and pressing sinners to take a
view of their deplorable circumstances without Christ ; as
also to strive that they might obtain an interest in him ;
the Lord, I trust, granted a remarkable influence of his
blessed Spirit to accompany what was spoken, and a
great concern appeared in the assembly : many were melted
into tears and sobs, and the impressions made upon them
seemed deep and heart-affecting. And in particular, there
were two or three persons who appeared to be brought to
the last exercises of a preparatory work, and reduced
almost to extremity ; being in a great measure convinced
of the impossibility of their helping themselves, or of
mending their own hearts ; and seemed to be upon the
point of giving up all hope in themselves, and of venturing
upon Christ as naked, helpless, and undone. And yet
were in distress and anguish because they saw no safety in
so doing, unless they could do something towards saving
themselves. — One of these persons was the very aged
woman above mentioned, who now appeared " weary and
heavy laden " with a sense of her sin and misery, and her
perishing need of an interest in Christ,
Lord's day, Dec. 29. Preached from John iii. 1 — 5. A
number of white people were present, as is usual upon the
sabbath. The discourse was accompanied with power,

and seemed to have a silent, but deep and piercing, influ
ence upon the audience. Many wept and sobbed affec
tionately. And there were some tears among the white
people, as well as the Indians. Some could not refrain
from crying out, though there were not many so exercised.
But the impressions made upon their hearts, appeared
chiefly by the extraordinary earnestness of their attention,
and their heavy sighs and tears.
After public worship was over, I went to my house,
proposing to preach again after a short season of intermis
sion. But they soon came in one after another, with tears
in their eyes, to know " what they should do to be saved."
And the divine Spirit in such a manner set home upon
their hearts what I spoke to them, that the house was soon
filled with cries and groans. They all flocked together
upon this occasion, and those whom I had reason to think
in a Christless state, were almost universally seized with
concern for their souls.
It was an amazing season of power among them, and
seemed as if God had " bowed the heavens, and come
down." So astonishingly prevalent was the operation
upon old as well as young, that it seemed as if none
would be left in a secure and natural state, but that God
was now about to convert all the world. And I was ready
to think then, that I should never again despair of the
conversion of any man or woman living, be they who or
what they would.
It is impossible to give a just and lively description of
the appearance of things at this season, at least such as to
convey a bright and adequate idea of the effects of this in
fluence. A number might now be seen rejoicing that God
had not taken away the powerful influence of his blessed
Spirit from this place.  Refreshed to see so many
" striving to enter in at the strait gate ;" — and animated
with such concern for them, that they wanted " to push
them forward," as some of them expressed it.  At the
same time numbers both of men and women, old and
young, might be seen in tears, and some in anguish of
spirit, appearing in their very countenances, like con
demned malefactors bound towards the place of execution,
with a heavy solicitude sitting in their faces : so that there
seemed here" (as 1 thought) a lively emblem of the solemn
day of accounts ; a mixture of heaven and hell, of joy
and anguish inexpressible.
The concern and religious affection was such, that I
could not pretend to have any formal religious exercise
among them ; but spent the time in discoursing to one
and another, as I thought most proper, and seasonable for
each, and sometimes addressed them all together, and
finally concluded with prayer. — Such were their circum
stances at this season, that I could scarce have half an
hour's rest from speaking from about half an hour before
twelve o'clock, (at which time I began public worship,)
till past seven at night. There appeared to be four or five
persons newly awakened this day and the evening before,
some of whom but very lately came among us.
Dec. 30. Was visited by four or five young persons
under concern for their souls, most of whom were very
lately awakened. They wept much while I discoursed to
them, and endeavoured to press upon them the necessity
of flying to Christ, without delay, for salvation. -
Dec. 31. Spent some hours this day in visiting my
people from house to house, and conversing with them
about their spiritual concerns ; endeavouring to press
upon Christless souls the necessity of a renovation of
heart : and scarce left a house, without leaving some or
other of its inhabitants in tears, appearing solicitously en
gaged to obtain an interest in Christ.
The Indians are now gathered together from all quarters
to this place, and have built them little cottages, so that
more than twenty families live within a quarter of a mile
of me. A very convenient situation in regard both of
public and private instruction.
Jan. 1, 1746. Spent some considerable time in visiting
my people again. Found scarce one but what was under
some serious impressions respecting their spiritual concerns.
Jan. 2. Visited some persons newly come among us,
who had scarce ever heard any thing of Christianity be
fore, except the empty name. Endeavoured to instruct
them, particularly by the first principles of religion, in the

Part II.

A. D. 1745, NOVEMBER— 1746, JUNE.

405

most easy and familiar manner I could. There are
strangers from remote parts almost continually dropping
in among us, so that I have occasion repeatedly to open
and inculcate the first principles of Christianity.
Jan. 4. Prosecuted my catechetical method of instruct
ing. Found my people able to answer questions with
propriety, beyond what could have been expected from
persons so lately brought out of heathenish darkness. In
the improvement of my discourse, there appeared some
concern and affection in the assembly : and especially
those of whom I entertained hopes as being truly gracious,
at least divers of them, were much affected and refreshed.
Lord's day, Jan. 5. Discoursed from Matt. xii. 10 — 13.
There appeared not so much liveliness and affection in
divine service as usual. The same truths that have often
produced many tears and sobs in the assembly, seemed
now to have no special influence upon any in it.
Near night I proposed to have proceeded in my usual
method of catechising. But while we were engaged in the
first prayer, the power of God seemed to descend upon
the assembly in such a remarkable manner, and so manv
appeared under pressing concern for their souls, that 1
thought it much more expedient to insist upon the plenti
ful provision made by divine grace for the redemption of
perishing sinners, and to press them to a speedy acceptance
of the gi eat salvation, than to ask them questions about
doctrinal points. What was most practicable, seemed
most seasonable to be insisted upon, while numbers ap
peared so extraordinarily solicitous to obtain an interest in
the great Redeemer. Baptized two persons this day ; one
adult (the woman particularly mentioned in my Journal of
Dec. 22) and one child.
This woman has discovered a very sweet and heavenly
frame of mind, from time to time, since her first reception
of comfort. One morning in particular she came to see
me, discovering an unusual joy and satisfaction in her
countenance ; and when I inquired into the reason of it,
she replied, " That God had made her feel that it was
right for him to do what he pleased with all things ; and
that it would be right if he should cast her husband and
son both into hell ; 'and she saw it was so right for God to
do what he pleased with them, that she could not but re
joice if God should send them into hell ;" though it was
apparent she loved them dearly. She moreover inquired,
whether I was not sent to preach to the Indians, by some
good people a great way off. I replied, Yes, by the good
people in Scotland. She answered, that her heart loved
those good people so, the evening before, " that she could
scarce help praying for them all night, her heart would go
to God for them," &c. So that " the blessing of those ready
to perish" is like to come upon those pious persons who
have communicated of their substance to the propagation
of the gospel.
Jan. 11. Discoursed in a catechetical method, as usual
of late. And having opened our first parent's primitive
apostasy from God, and our fall in him ; I proceeded to
improve my discourse, by showing the necessity we stood
in of an Almighty Redeemer, and the absolute need every
sinner has of an interest in his merits and mediation.
There was some tenderness and affectionate concern ap
parent in the assembly.
lord's day, Jan. 12. Preached from Isa. Iv. 6. The
word of God seemed to fall upon the audience with a
divine weight and influence, and evidently appeared to be
" not the word of man." The blessed Spirit, I am per
suaded, accompanied what was spoken to the hearts of
many. So that there was a powerful revival of conviction
in numbers who were under spiritual exercise before.
Towards night catechised m my usual method. Near
the close of my discourse, there appeared a great concern,
and much affection in the audience. Which increased
while I continued to invite them to come to an all-suffi
cient Redeemer for eternal salvation. — The Spirit of God
seems, from time to time, to be striving with numbers of
souls here. They are so frequently and repeatedly roused,
that they seem unable at present to lull themselves asleep.
Jan. 13. Was visited by divers persons under deep
concern for their souls ; one of whom was newly awakened.
— It is a most agreeable work to treat with souls who are
solicitously inquiring " what they shall do to be saved."

And as we are never to " be weary in well-doing," so the
obligation seems to be peculiarly strong when tlie work
is so very desirable. And yet I must say, my health is so
much impaired, and my spirits so wasted with my labours,
and solitary manner of living, (there being no human
creature in the house with me,) that their repeated and al
most incessant application to me for help and direction,
are sometimes exceeding burdensome, and so exhaust my
spirits, that I become fit for nothing at all, entirely unable
to prosecute any business sometimes for days together.
And what contributes much toward this difficulty is, that
I am obliged to spend much time in communicating a little
matter to them; there being oftentimes many things
necessary to be premised, before I can speak directly to
what I principally aim at ; which things would readily be
taken for granted, where there was a competency of doc
trinal knowledge.
Jan. 14. Spent some time in private conference with
my people, and found some disposed to take comfort, as
I thought, upon slight grounds. — They are now generally
awakened, and it is become so disgraceful, as well as terri
fying to the conscience, to be destitute of religion,
that they are in imminent danger of taking up with any ap
pearances of grace, rather than to live under the fear and
disgrace of an unregenerate state.
Jan. 18. Prosecuted my catechetical method of dis
coursing. There appeared a great solemnity, and some
considerable affection in the assembly. — This method of
instructing I find very profitable. When I first entered
upon it, I was exercised with fears, lest my discourses
would unavoidably be so doctrinal, that they would tend
only to enlighten the head, but not to affect the heart.
But the event proves quite otherwise ; for these exercises
have hitherto been remarkably blessed in the latter as well
as the former respects.
Lord's day, Jan. 19. Discoursed to my people from
Isa. Iv. 7. — Towards night catechised in my ordinary
method. And this appeared to be a powerful season of
grace among us. Numbers were much affected. Con
victions were powerfully revived ; and divers of the
Christians refreshed and strengthened ; and one wearv,
heavy-laden soul, I have abundant reason to hope, brought
to true rest and solid comfort in Christ, who afterwards
gave me such an account of God's dealing with his soul,
as was abundantly satisfying as well as refreshing to me.
He told me he had often heard me say, that persons
must see and feel themselves utterly helpless and undone;
that they must be emptied of a dependence upon them
selves, and of all hope of saving themselves by their own
doings, in order to their coming to Christ for salvation.
And he had long been striving after this view of things ;
supposing this would be an excellent frame of mind, to be
thus emptied of a dependence upon his own goodness ;
that God would have respect to this frame, would then he
well pleased with him, and bestow eternal life upon him.
 But when he came to feel himself in this helpless un
done condition, he found it quite contrary to all his thoughts
and expectations ; so that it was not the same frame, nor
indeed any thing like the frame, he had been seeking after.
Instead of its being a good frame of mind, he now found
nothing but badness in himself, and saw it was for ever im
possible for him to make himself any better. He wondered,
ne said, that he had ever hoped to mend his own heart. He
was amazed he had never before seen that it was utterly
impossible for him, by all his contrivances and endeavours,
to do any thing that way, since the matter now appeared
to him in so clear a light — Instead of imagining now, that
God would be pleased with him for the sake of this frame
of mind, and this view of his undone estate, he saw clearly,
and felt, it would be just with God to send him to eternal
misery ; and that there was no goodness in what he then
felt ; for he could not help seeing that he was naked, sin
ful, and miserable, and there was nothing in such a sight
to deserve God's love or pity.
He saw these things in a manner so clear and convinc
ing, that it seemed to him, he said, he could convince
every body of their utter inability ever to help themselves,
and their unworthiness of any help from God. — In this
frame of mind he came to public worship this evening,
and while I was inviting sinners to come to Christ naked

406

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and empty, without any goodness of their own to recom
mend them to his acceptance ; then he thought with him
self, that he had often tried to come and give up his
heart to Christ, and he used to hope, that some time or
other he should be able to do so. But now he was con
vinced he could not, and it seemed utterly vain for him
ever to try any more : and he could not, he said, find a
heart to make any further attempt, because he saw it would
signify nothing at all : nor did he now hope for a better
opportunity, or more ability hereafter, as he had formerly
done, because he saw, and was fully convinced, his own
strength would for ever fail.
While he was musing in this manner, he saw, he said,
with his heart (which is a common phrase among them)
something that was unspeakably good and lovely, and
what he had never seen before ; and " this stole away his
heart whether he would or no." He did not, he said,
know what it was he saw. He did not say, " this is Jesus
Christ ;" but it was such glory and beauty as he never
saw before. He did not now give away his heart so as he
had formerly intended and attempted to do, but it went
away of itself after that glory he then discovered. He
used to try to make a bargain with Christ, to give up his
heart to him, that he might have eternal Wfefor it. But
now he thought nothing about himself, or wfiat would be
come of him hereafter ; but was pleased, and his mind
wholly taken up, with the unspeakable excellency of what
he then beheld. — After some time he was wonderfully
pleased with the way of salvation by Christ : so that it
seemed unspeakably better to be saved altogether by the
mere free grace of God in Christ, than to have any hand
in saving himself.  And the consequence of this exer
cise is, that he appears to retain a sense and relish of
divine things, and to maintain a life of seriousness and
true religion.
Jan. 28. The Indians in these parts have, in times past,
run themselves in debt by their excessive drinking; and
some have taken the advantage of them, and put them to
trouble and charge by arresting sundry of them ; whereby
it was supposed their hunting lands, in great part, were
much endangered, and might speedily be taken from them.
Being sensible that they could not subsist together in
these parts, in order to their being a christian congregation,
if these lands should be taken, which was thought very
likely, I thought it my duty to use my utmost endeavours
to prevent so unhappy an event. And having acquainted
the gentlemen concerned with this mission of the affair, ac
cording to the best information I could get of it, they
thought it proper to expend the money they had been, and
still were, oollecting for the religious interest of the Indians,
(at least a part of it,) for discharging their debts, and se
curing these lands, that there might be no entanglement
lying upon them to hinder the settlement and hopeful en
largement of a christian congregation of Indians in these
parts. — And having received orders from them, I answered,
in behalf of the Indians, eighty-two pounds five shillings,
New Jersey currency, at eight shillings per ounce ; and so
prevented the danger of difficulty in this respect.
As God has wrought a wonderful work qf grace among
these Indians, and now inclines others from remote places
to fall in among them almost continually ; and as he has
opened a door for the prevention of the difficulty now
mentioned, which seemed greatly to threaten their religious
interests, as well as worldly comfort ; it is hopeful that he
designs to establish a church for himself among them, and
hand down true religion to their posterity.
Jan. 30. Preached to the Indians from John iii. 16, 17.
There was a solemn attention and some affection visible in
the audience ; especially divers persons who had long been
concerned for their souls, seemed afresh excited and en
gaged in seeking after an interest in Christ. And one, with
much Concern, afterwards told me, " his heart was so
pricked with my preaching, he knew not where to turn,
nor what to do."
Jan. 31. This day the person 1 had made choice of
and engaged for a schoolmaster among the Indians, arrived
among us, and was heartily welcomed by my people uni
versally. — Whereupon I distributed several dozen of
primers among the children and young people.
Feb. 1, 1746. My schoolmaster entered upon his busi

ness among the Indians.— He has generally about thirty
children and voung persons in his school in the day-time,
and about fifteen married people in his evening-school.
The number ofthe latter sort of persons being less than it
would be, if they could be more constant at home, and
spare time from their necessary employments for an attend
ance upon these instructions.
In the evening catechised in my usual method. To
wards the close of my discourse a surprising power seemed
to attend the word, especially to some persons.— One man,
considerably in years, who had been a remarkable drunk-
aid, a conjurer, and murderer, that was awakened some
months before, was now brought to great extremity under
his spiritual distress, so that he trembled for hours to
gether, and apprehended himself just dropping into hell,
without any power to rescue or relieve himself. — Divers
others appeared under great concern as well as he, and
solicitous to obtain a saving change.
Lord's day, Feb. 2. Preached from John v. 24, 25.
There appeared (as usual) some concern and affection in
the assembly. Toward night proceeded in my usual
method of catechising. Observed my people more ready
in answering the questions proposed to them than ever
before. It is apparent they advanced daily in doctrinal
knowledge. But what is still more desirable, the Spirit of
God is yet operating among them, whereby experimental,
as well as speculative, knowledge is propagated in their
minds. Feb. 5. Discoursed to a considerable number of the
Indians in the evening ; at which time divers of them ap
peared much affected and melted with divine things.
Feb. 8. Spent a considerable part ofthe day in visiting
my people from house to house, and conversing with them
about their souls' concerns. Divers persons wept while I
discoursed to them, and appeared concerned for nothing so
much as for an interest in the great Redeemer.  In the
evening catechised as usual. Divine truths made some
impression upon the audience, and were attended with an
affectionate engagement of soul in some.
Lord's day, Feb. 9. Discoursed to my people from the
story of the blind man, Matt. x. 46—52. The word of
God seemed weighty and powerful upon the assembly at
this time, and made considerable impressions upon many ;
divers in particular who have generally been remarkably
stupid and careless under the means of grace, were now
awakened, and wept affectionately. And the most earnest
attention, as well as tenderness and affection, appeared in
the audience universally.
Baptized three persons, two adults and one child. The
adults, I have reason to hope, were both truly pious. There
was a considerable melting in the" assembly, while I was
discoursing particularly to the persons, and administering
the ordinance. — God has been pleased to own and bless the
administration of this, as well as of his other ordinances,
among the Indians. There are some here that have been
powerfully awakened at seeing others baptized. And some
that have obtained relief and comfort, just in the season
when this ordinance has been administered.
Toward night catechised. God made this a powerful
season to some. There were many affected.  Former
convictions appeared to be powerfully revived. There was
likewise one, who had been a vile drunkard, remarkably
awakened. He appeared to be in great anguish of soui,
wept and trembled, and continued so to do till near mid
night. — There was also a poor heavy laden soul, who had
been long under spiritual distress, as constant and pressing
as ever I saw, that was now brought to a comfortaDle calm,
and seemed to be bowed and reconciled to divine sovereign
ty ; and told me, " She now saw and felt it was right
Cod should do with her as he pleased. And her heart
felt pleased and satisfied it should be so." Although of
late she had often found her heart rise and quarrel with
God because he would, if he pleased, send her to hell after
all she had done or could do to save herself, &c. And
added, that the heavy burden she had lain under, was now
removed : that she had tried to recover her concern and
distress again, (fearing that the Spirit of God was depart
ing from her, and would leave her wholly careless,) but
that she could not recover it : that she felt she never could
do any thing to save herself, but must perish for ever if

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407

Christ did not do all for her : that she did not deserve he
should help her ; and that it would be right if he should
¦leave her to perish. But Christ could save her, though she
could do nothing to save herself, &c. And here sheseemed
to rest. Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Feb. 1746.
Lord's day, Feb. 16. Knowing that divers of the In
dians in those parts were obstinately set against Chris
tianity, and that some of them had refused to hear me
preach in times past, I thought it might be proper and
beneficial to the christian interest here, to have a number of
my religious people from Crossweeksung with me, in order
to converse with them about religious matters ; hoping it
might be a means to convince them of the truth and im
portance of Christianity, to see and hear some of their own
nation discoursing of divine things, and manifesting earnest
desires that others might be brought out of heathenish
darkness, as themselves were.
And having taken half a dozen of the most serious and
knowing persons for this purpose, I this day met with
them and the Indians of this piace, (sundry of whom pro
bably could no! have been prevailed upon to attend the
meeting, had it not been for these religious Indians that
accompanied me here,) and preached to them. — Some of
them who had, in times past, been extremely averse to
Christianity, now behaved soberly, and some others laugh
ed and mocked. However the word of God fell with such
weight and power, that sundry seemed to be stunned, and
expressed a willingness to " hear me again of these mat
ters." Afterwards prayed with, and marie an address to the
white people present, and could not butobserve some visi
ble effects of the word, such as tears and sobs, among
them. After public worship, spent some time and took
pains to convince those that mocked, ofthe truth and im
portance of what I had been insisting upon ; and so en
deavoured to awaken their attention to divine truths. And
had reason to think, from what I observed then and after
wards, that my endeavours took considerable effect upon
one of the worst of them.
Those few Indians then present, who used to be mv
hearers in these parts, (some having removed from hence
to Crossweeksung,) seemed somewhat kindly disposed
toward, and glad to see me again. They had been so much
attacked by some of the opposing pagans, that they were
almost ashamed or afraid to manifest their friendship.
Feb. 17. After having spent much time in discoursing
to the Indians in their respective houses, I got them to
gether, and repeated and inculcated what I had before
taught them. Afterwards discoursed to them from Acts
viii. 5 — 8. A divine influence seemed to attend the word.
Sundry of the Indians here appeared to be somewhat
awakened, and manifested a concern of mind, by their
earnest attention, tears and sobs. My people from Cross-
weeksung continued with them day and night, repeating
and inculcating the truths I had taught them : and some
times prayed and sung psalms among them ; discoursing
with each other, in their hearing, of the great things God
had done for them, and for the Indians from whence thev
came : which seemed (as my people told me) to take more
effect upon them, than when they directed their discourses
immediately to them.
Feb. 18. Preached to an assembly of Irish people near
fifteen miles distant from the Indians.
Feb. 19. Preached to the Indians again, after having
spent considerable time in conversing with them more
privately. There appeared a great solemnity, and some
concern and affection, among the Indians belonging to these
parts, as well as a sweet melting among those who came
with me. — Divers of the Indians here seemed to have their
prejudices and aversion to Christianity removed, and ap
peared well disposed and inclined to hear the word of
God. Feb . 20. Preached to a small assembly of High-Dutch
people, who had seldom heard the gospel preached, and
were (some of them at least) very ignorant ; but divers of
them have lately been put upon inquiry after the way of
salvation, with some thoughtfulness. They gave wonder

ful attention, and some of them were much affected under
the word, and afterwards said, (as I was informed,) that
they never had been so much enlightened about the way
of salvation in their whole lives before. They requested
me to tarry with them, or come again and preach to them.
And it grieved me that I could not comply with their re
quest, for I could not but be affected with their circum
stances ; they being as " sheep not having a shepherd,"
and some of them appearing under some degree of soul-
Irouble, standing in peculiar need of the assistance of an
experienced spiritual guide.
Feb. 21. Preached to a number of people, many of
them Low-Dutch. Sundry of the fore-mentioned High-
Dutch attended the sermon, though eight or ten miles dis
tant from their houses.  Divers of the Indians also be
longing to these parts came of their own accord with my
people (from Crossweeksung) to the, meeting. And there
were two in particular, who, though the last sabbath they
opposed and ridiculed Christianity, now behaved soberly.
May the present encouraging appearance continue.
Feb. 22. Preached to the Indians. They appeared
more free from prejudice, and more cordial to Christianity,
than before. And some of them appeared affected with
divine truths.
Lord's day, Feb. 23. Preached to the Indians from
John vi. 35 — 37. After public service, discoursed par
ticularly with sundry of them, and invited them to go
down to Crossweeksung, and tarry there at least for some
time ; knowing they would then be free from the scoffs
and temptations of the opposing pagans, as well as in the
way of hearing divine truths discoursed of, both in public
and private. And got a promise of some of them, that
they would speedily pay us a visit, and attend some fur
ther instructions. They seemed to be considerably en
lightened, and much freed from their prejudices against
Christianity. But it is much to be feared their prejudices
will revive again, unless they could enjoy the means of
instruction here, or be removed where they might be under
such advantages, and out of the way of their pagan ac
quaintance. Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, March, 1746.
March 1. Catechised in my ordinary method. Was
pleased and refreshed to see them answer the questions
proposed to them with such remarkable readiness, discre
tion, and knowledge. — Toward the close of my discourse,
divine truths made considerable impressions upon the
audience, and produced tears and sobs in some under
concern ; and more especially a sweet and humble melt
ing in sundry that, I have reason to hope, were truly
gracious. Lord's day, March 2. Preached from John xv. 1—6.
The assembly appeared not so lively in their attention as
usual, nor so much affected with divine truths in general
as has been common. Some of my people, who went up to
the Forks qf Delaware with me, being now returned, were
accompanied by two ofthe Indians belonging to the Forks,
who had promised me a speedy visit. May the Lord
meet with them there. They can scarce go into a house
now, but they will meet with christian conversation,
whereby, it is hopeful, they may be both instructed and
awakened. Discoursed to the Indians again in the afternoon, and
observed among them some liveliness and engagement in
divine service, though not equal to what has often appear
ed here. — I know of no assembly of Christians, where
there seems to be so much of the presence of God, where
brotherly love so much prevails, and where 1 should take
so much delight in the public worship of God, in the
general, as in my own congregation : although not more
than nine months ago, they were worshipping devils and
dumb idols under the power of pagan darkness and super
stition. Amazing change this ! effected by nothing less
than divine power and grace ! " This is the doing of the
Lord, and it is justly marvellous in our eyes !"
March 5. Spent some time just at evening in prayer,
singing, and discoursing to my people upon divine things ;
and observed some agreeable tenderness and affection
among them. Their present situation is so compact and

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commodious, that they are easily and quickly called toge
ther with onlv the sound of a conk-shell, (a shell like that
of a periwinkle,) so that they have frequent opportunities
of attending religious exercises publicly ; which seems to
be a great means, under God, of keeping alive the im
pressions of divine things in their minds.
March 8. Catechised in the evening. My people an
swered the questions proposed to them well. I can per
ceive their knowledge in religion increases daily. And
what is still more desirable, the divine influence that has
been so remarkable among them appears still to continue
in some good measure. The divine presence seemed to
be in the assembly this evening. Some, who I have good
reason to think are Christians indeed, were melted with a
sense of the divine goodness, and their own barrenness
and ingratitude, and seemed to hate themselves, as one of
them afterwards expressed it. Convictions also appeared
to be revived in several instances ; and divine truths were
attended with such influence upon the assembly in gene
ral, that it might justly be called " an evening of divine
power." Lord's day, March 9. Preached from Luke x. 38 — 42.
The word of God was attended with power and energy upon
the audience. Numbers were affected and concerned to
obtain the one thing needful. And sundry that have given
good evidences of being truly gracious, were much affect
ed with a sense of their want of spirituality ; and saw the
need they stood in of growing in grace. And most that
had been under any impressions of divine things in times
past, seemed now to have those impressions revived.
In the afternoon proposed to have catechised in my usual
method. But while we were engaged in the first prayer
in the Indian language, (as usual,) a great part of the as
sembly was so much moved, and affected with divine
things, that I thought it seasonable and proper to omit the
proposing of questions for that time, and insist upon the
most practical truths. And accordingly did so ; making
a further improvement of the passage of Scripture I dis
coursed upon in the former part of the day.
There appeared to be a powerful d'vine influence in the
congregation. Sundry that I have reason to think are
truly pious, were so deeply affected with a sense of their
own barrenness, and their unworthy treatment ofthe bless
ed Redeemer, that they looked on him as pierced by
themselves, and mourned, yea, some of them were in bit
terness as for a first-born. — Some poor awakened sinners
also appeared to be in anguish of soul to obtain an interest
in Christ. So that there was a great mourning in the as
sembly ; many heavy groans, sobs, and tears ! and one or
two persons newly come among us, were considerably
awakened. Methinks it would have refreshed the heart of any who
truly love Zion's interest, to have been in the midst of
this divine influence, and seen the effects of it upon saints
and sinners. The place of divine worship appeared both
solemn and sweet ! and was so endeared by a display of
the divine presence and grace, that those who had any
relish of divine things, couid not but cry, " How amiable
are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts !" — After public
worship was over, numbers came to my house, where we
sang and discoursed of divine things : and the presence of
God seemed here also to be in the midst of us.
While we were singing, there was one (the woman men
tioned in my Journal of Feb. 9) who, I may venture to
say, if I may be allowed to say so much of any person I
ever saw, was " filled with joy unspeakable and full of
glory," and could not but burst forth in prayer and praises
to God before us all, with many tears, crying sometimes
in English and sometimes in Indian, " O blessed Lord,
do come, do come ! O do take me away, do let me die
and go to Jesus Christ ! I am afraid if .1 live I shall sin
again ! O do let me die now ! O dear Jesus, do come ! I
cannot stay, I cannot stay ! O how can I live in this
world ! do take my soul away from this sinful place ! O
let me never sin any more ! O what shall I do, what shall
I do ! dear Jesus, O dear Jesus," &c. — In this ecstasy
she continued some time, uttering these and such like
expressions incessantly. And the grand argument she
used with God to take her away immediately, was, that " if
she lived, she should sin against him."

When she had a little recovered herself, I asked her, if
Christ was not now sweet to her soul t Whereupon, turn
ing to me with tears in her eyes, and with all the tokens
of deep humility I ever saw in any person, she said, " I
have many times heard you speak of the goodness and the
sweetness of Christ, that he was better than all the world.
But O ! I knew nothing what you meant, I never believed
you ! I never believed you ! But now I know it is true !"
or words to that effect  I answered, And do you see
enough in Christ for the greatest of sinners ? She replied,
"Of enough, enough ! for all the sinners in the world if
they would but come." And when I asked her, if she
could not tell them of the goodness of Christ ; turning
herself about to some poor Christless souls who stood by,
and were much affected, she said, " Oh ! there is enough
in Christ for you, if you would but come ! O strive,
strive to give up your hearts to him !" &c. And upon
hearing something of the glory of heaven mentioned, that
there was no sin in that world, hue. she again fell into the
same ecstasy of joy, and desire of Christ's coming ; repeat
ing her former expressions, " O dear Lord, do let me go !
0 what shall I do, what shall I do ! I want to go to
Christ ! I cannot live ! O do let me die !" &c.
She continued in this sweet frame for more than two
hours, before she was well able lo get home. — I am very
sensible there may be great joys, arising even to an ecstasy,
where there is still no substantial evidence of their being
well-grounded. But in the present case there seemed to
be no evidence wanting, in order to prove this joy to be
divine, either in regard of its preparatives, attendants, or
consequents. Of.all the persons I have seen under spiritual exercise,
I scarce ever saw one appear more bowed and broken
under convictions of sin and misery (or what is usually
called a preparatory work) than this woman. Nor scarce
any who seemed to have a greater acquaintance with her
own heart than she had. She would frequently complain
to me of the hardness and rebellion of her heart. Would
tell me, her heart rose and quarrelled with God, when she
thought he would do with her as he pleased, and send her
to hell notwithstanding her prayers, good frames, &c. That
her heart was not willing to come to Christ for salvation,
but tried every where else for help.
And as she seemed to be remarkably sensible of her
stubbornness and contrariety to God, under conviction, so
she appeared to be no less remarkably bowed and recon
ciled to divine sovereignty before she obtained any relief
or comfort. Something of which I have before noticed in
my Journal of Feb. 9. Since which time she has seemed
constantly to breathe the spirit and temper of the new
creature : crying after Christ, not through fear of hell as
before, but with strong desires after him as her only satis
fying portion ; and has many times wept and sobbed
bitterly, because (as she apprehended) she did not and
could not love him. — When I have sometimes asked her,
Why she appeared so sorrowful, and whether it was be
cause she was afraid of hell ? She would answer, " No, I
be not distressed about that; but my heart is so wicked I
cannot love Christ;" and thereupon burst out into tears.
—But although this has been the habitual frame of her
mind for several weeks together, so that the exercise of
grace appeared evident to others, vet she seemed wholly
insensible of it herself, and never had any remarkable
comfort and sensible satisfaction till this evening.
This sweet and surprising ecstasy appeared to spring
from a true spiritual discovery of the glory, ravishing
beauty, and excellency of Christ : and not from any gross
imaginary notions of his human nature ; such as that of
seeing him in such a place or posture, as hanging on the
cross, as bleeding, dying, as gently smiling, and the like ;
which delusions some have been carried away with. Nor
did it rise from sordid, selfish apprehensions of her having
any benefit whatsoever conferred on her, but from a view
of his personal excellency, and transcendent loveliness,
which drew forth those vehement desires of enjoying him
she now manifested, and made her long " to be absent
from the body that she might be present with the Lord."
The attendants of this ravishing comfort, were such as
abundantly discovered its spring to be divine, and that it
was truly a " joy in the Holy Ghost."— Now she viewed

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409

divine truths as living realities ; and could say, " I know
these things are so, 1 feel they are true !" — JVoui her soul
was resigned to the divine will in the most tender points ;
so that when I said to her, What if God should take away
your * husband from you, (who was then very sick,) how
do you think you could bear that? She replied, "He
belongs to God, and not to me ; he may do with him just
what he pleases." Now she had the most tender sense of
the evil of sin, and discovered the utmost aversion to it ;
longing to die that she might be delivered from it. Now
she could freely trust her all with God for time and eter
nity. And when I questioned her, how she could be
willing to die, and leave her little infant ; and what she
thought would become of it in that case 1 She answered,
" God will take care of it. It belongs to him, he will
take care of it." Now she appeared to have the most
humbling sense of her own meanness and unworthiness,
her weakness and inability to preserve herself from sin,
and to persevere in the way of holiness, crying, " If I live,
I shall sin." And I then thought I had never seen such
an appearance of ecstasy and humility meeting in any one
person in all my life before.
The consequents of this joy are no less desirable and
satisfactory than its attendants. She since appears to be a
most tender, broken-hearted, affectionate, devout, and
humble Christian, as exemplary in life and conversation
as any person in my congregation. May she still " grow
in grace, and in the knowledge of Christ."
March 10. Toward night the Indians met together of
their own accord, and sang, prayed, and discoursed of
divine things among themselves. At which time there was
much affection among them. Some who are hopefully
gracious, appeared to be melted with divine things. And
some others seemed much concerned for their souls.
Perceiving their engagement and affection in religious
exercises, I went among them, and prayed, and gave a
word of exhortation ; and observed two or three somewhat
affected and concerned, who scarce ever appeared to be
under any religious impressions before. It seemed to be
a day and evening of divine power. Numbers retained
the warm impressions of divine things that had been made
upon their minds the day before.
March 14. Was visited by a considerable number of
my people, and spent some time in religious exercises with
them. March 15. In tbe evening catechised. My people
answered the questions put to them with surprising readi
ness and judgment. There appeared some warmth and
feeling sense of divine things among those, who, I have
reason to hope, are real Christians, while I was discours
ing upon "peace of conscience, and joy in the Holy
Ghost." These seemed quickened and enlivened in divine
service, though there was not so much appearance of con
cern among those I have reason to think in a Christless
state. Lord's day, March 16. Preached to my congregation
from Heb. ii. 1 — 3. Divine truths seemed to have some
considerable influence upon many of the hearers; and
produced many tears, as well as heavy sighs and sobs,
among both those who have given evidences of being real
Christians, and others also. And the impressions made
upon the audience appeared in general deep and heart-af
fecting, not superficial, noisy, and affected.
Toward night discoursed again on the great salvation.
The word was again attended with some power upon the
audience. Numbers wept affectionately, and to appear
ance, unfeignedly ; so that the Spirit of God seemed to be
moving upon the face of the assembly. — Baptized the wo
man particularly mentioned in my Journal of last Lord's
day ; who now, as well as then, appeared to be in a devout,
humble, and excellent frame of mind.
My house being thronged with my people in the even
ing, I spent the time in religious exercises with them till
my nature was almost spent. They are so unwearied in
religious exercises, and unsatiable in their thirsting after
christian knowledge, that I can sometimes scarce avoid la
bouring so as greatly to exhaust my strength and spirits.
March 19. Sundry of the persons that went with me
• The man particularly mentioned in my Journal of January 19.

to the Forks of Delaware in February last, having been
detained there by the dangerous illness of one of their com
pany, returned home but this day. Whereupon my peo
ple generally met together of their own accord, in order to
spend some time in religious exercises; and especially to
give thanks to God for his preserving goodness to those
who had been absent from them for several weeks, and
recovering mercy to him who had been sick ; and that he
had now returned them all in safety. I being then ab
sent, they desired my schoolmaster to assist them in carry
ing on their religious solemnity ; who tells me they
appeared engaged and affectionate in repeated prayer, sing
ing, Sec.
March 22. Catechised in my usual method in the
evening. — My people answered questions to my great
satisfaction. There appeared nothing very remarkable
in the assembly, considering what has been common
among us. Although I may justly say, the strict atten
tion, the tenderness and affection, the many tears and
heart-affecting sobs, appearing in numbers in the assembly,
would have been very remarkable, were it not that God
has made these things common with us, and even with
strangers soon after their coming among us, from time to
time. I am far from thinking that every appearance, and
particular instance of affection, that has been among us,
has been truly genuine, and purely from a divine influence.
I am sensible of the contrary ; and doubt not but that
there has been some corrupt mixture, some chaff as well
as wheat, especially since religious concern became so
common and prevalent here.
Lord's day, March 23. There being about fifteen
strangers, adult persons, come among us in the week past
— divers of whom had never been in any religious meeting
till now — I thought it proper to discourse this day in a
manner peculiarly suited to their circumstances and capa
cities : and accordingly attempted it from Hos. xiii. 9. "O
Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself," &c. In the forenoon
I opened, in the plainest manner I could, man's apostasy
and ruined state, after having spoken some things respect
ing the being and perfections of God, and his creation of
man in a slate of uprightness and happiness. In the after
noon endeavoured to open the glorious provision God has
made for the redemption of apostate creatures, by giving
his own dear Son to suffer for them, and satisfy divine
justice on their behalf. — -There was not that affection and
concern in the assembly that has been common among us,
although there was a desirable attention appearing in ge
neral, and even in most of the strangers.
Near sun-set I felt an uncommon concern upon my
mind, especially for the poor strangers, that God had so
much withheld his presence, and the powerful influence
of his Spirit, from the assembly in the exercises of the
day ; and thereby denied them of that matter of conviction
which I hoped they might have had. And in this frame
I visited sundry houses, and discoursed with some con
cern and affection to divers persons particularly : but
without much appearance of success, till I came toahouse
where divers of the strangers were ; and there the solemn
truths I discoursed of appeared to take effect, first upon
some children, then upon divers adult persons that had
been somewhat awakened before, and afterwards upon se
veral of the pagan strangers.
I continued my discourse, with some fervency, till al
most every one in the house was melted into tears ; and
divers wept aloud, and appeared earnestly concerned to
obtain an interest in Christ. Upon this, numbers soon
gathered from all the houses round about, and so thronged
the place, that we were obliged to remove to the house
where we usually meet for public worship. And the con
gregation gathering immediately, and many appeared re
markably affected, I discoursed some time from Luke
xix. 10. " For the Son of man is come to seek," &c. En
deavouring to open the mercy, compassion, and concern of
Christ for lost, helpless, and undone sinners. — There was
much visible concern and affection in the assembly ; and
I doubt not but that a divine influence accompanied what
was spoken to the hearts of many. There were five or six
of the strangers, men and women, who appeared to be

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considerably awakened. And in particular one very rug
ged young man, who seemed as if nothing would move
him, was now brought to tremble like the jailer, and weep
for a long time.
The pagans that were awakened seemed at once to put
off their savage roughness and pagan manners, and became
sociable, orderly, and humane in their carriage. When they
first came, I exhorted my religious people to take pains
with them (as they had done with other strangers from
time to time) to instruct them in Christianity. But when
some of them attempted something of that nature, the
strangers would soon rise up and walk to other houses, in
order to avoid the hearing of such discourses. Where
upon some of the serious persons agreed to disperse
themselves into the several parts of the settlement. So
that wherever the strangers went, they met with some in
structive discourse, and warm addresses respecting their
souls' concern.  But now there was no need of using
policy in order to get an opportunity of conversing with
some of them about their spiritual concerns ; for they were
so far touched with a sense of their perishing state, as
made them tamely yield to the closest addresses that were
made them, respecting their sin and misery, their need of
an acquaintance with, and interest in, the great Re
deemer. March 24. Numbered the Indians, to see how many
souls God had gathered together here, since my coming
into these parts ; and found there was now about a hun
dred and thirty persons together, old and young. Sundry
of those that are my stated hearers, perhaps to the number
of fifteen or twenty, were absent at this season. So that
if all had been together, the number would now have been
very considerable: especially considering how few were
together at my first coming into these parts, the whole
number not amounting to ten persons at that time.
My people went out this day upon the design of clear
ing some of their land, above fifteen miles distant from this
settlement, in order to their settling there in a compact
form ; where they might be under advantages of attending
the public worship of God, of having their children taught
in a school, and at the same time have a conveniency for
planting, &c. ; their land in the place of our present resi
dence being of little or no value for that purpose. And
the design of their settling thus in a body, and cultivating
their lands, (which they have done very little in their pagan
state,) being of such necessity and importance to their re
ligious interest, as well as worldly comfort, I thought it
proper to call them together, and: show them the duty of
labouring with faithfulness and industry : and that they
must not now " be slothful in business, as they had ever
been in their pagan state. I endeavoured to press the
importance of their being laborious, diligent, and vigorous
in the prosecution of their business, especially at the pre
sent juncture, (the season of planting being now near,) in
order to their being in a capacity of living together, and
enjoying the means of grace and instruction. And having
given them directions for their work, which they very much
wanted, as well as for their behaviour in divers respects, I
explained, sang, and endeavoured to inculcate upon them
Ps. cxxvii. common metre, Dr. Watts's version. And
having recommended them, and the design of their going
forth, to God, by prayer with them, I dismissed them to
their business.
In the evening read and expounded to those of my
people who were yet at home, and the strangers newly
come, the substance of the third chapter of the Acts.
Numbers seemed to melt under the word, especially while
I was discoursing upon ver. 19. " Repent ye therefore, and
be converted," &c. Sundry of the strangers also were
affected. When I asked them afterwards, whether they did
not now feel that their hearts were wicked, as I had taught
them ? One replied, " Yes, she felt it now." Although
before she came here — upon hearing that I taught the
Indians their hearts were all bad by nature, and needed to
be changed and made good by the power of God — she
had said, " Her heart was not wicked, and she never had
done any thing that was bad in her life." And this indeed
seems to be the case with them, I think, universally in their
pagan state. They seem to have no consciousness of sin
and guilt, unless they can charge themselves with some

gross acts of sin contrary to the commands of the second
table. March 27. Discoursed to a number of my people id
one of their houses in a more private manner. Inquired
particularly into their spiritual states, in order to see what
impressions of a religious nature they were under. Laid
before them the marks and tokens of a regenerate, as well
as unregenerate, state : and endeavoured to suit and direct
my discourse to them severally, according as I apprehended
their states to be. — There was a considerable number
gathered together before I finished my discourse; and
divers seemed much affected, while I was urging the
necessity and infinite importance of getting into a renewed
state. — I find particular and close dealing with souls in
private, is often very successful.
March 29. In the evening catechised as usual upon
Saturday. — Treated upon the " benefits which believers
receive from Christ at death." — The questions were answer
ed with great readiness and propriety. And those who,
I have reason to think, are the dearpeople of God, were
sweetly melted almost in general. There appeared such a
liveliness and vigour in their attendance upon the word of
God, and such eagerness to be made partakers of the
benefits then mentioned, that they seemed to be not only
" looking for, but hasting to, the coming of the day of
God." Divine truths seemed to distil upon the audience
with a gentle but melting efficacy, as the refreshing
" showers upon the new-mown grass." The assembly in
general, as well as those who appear truly religious, were
affected with some brief account of the blessedness of the
godly at death : and most then discovered an affectionate
inclination to cry, " Let me die the death of the righteous,"
&c. although many were not duly engaged to obtain the
change of heart that is necessary in order to that blessed
end. Lord's day, March 30. Discoursed from Matt. xxv.
31 — 40. There was a very considerable moving and
affectionate melting in the assembly. I hope there were
some real, deep, and abiding impressions of divine things
made upon the minds of many. There was one aged
man, newly come among us, who appeared to be con
siderably awakened, that never was touched with any con
cern for his soul before. — In the evening catechised.
There was not that tenderness and melting engagement
among God's people that appeared the evening before, and
many other times. They answered the questions distinctly
and well, and were devout and attentive in divine service.
March 31. Called my people together, as I had done
the Monday morning before, and discoursed to them again
on the necessity and importance of their labouring indus
triously, in order to their living together, and enjoying the
means of grace, &c. And having engaged in solemn
prayer to God among them, for a blessing upon their
attempts, I dismissed them to their work. — Numbers of
them, both men and women, seemed to offer themselves
willingly to this service ; and some appeared affectionately
concerned that God might go with them, and begin their
little town for them ; that by his blessing it might be a
place comfortable for them and theirs, in regard both of
procuring the necessaries of life, and of attending the wor
ship of God.
April 5. Catechised towards evening. There appeared
to be some affection and fervent engagement in divine
service through the assembly in general; especially to
wards the conclusion of my discourse. — After public
worship, a number of those I have reason to think are
truly religious, came to my house, and seemed eager for
some further entertainment upon divine things. And
while I was conversing with them about their spiritual exer
cises, observing to them, that God's work in the hearts of
all his children was, for substance, the same ; and that
their trials and temptations were also alike ; and showing
the obligations such were under to love one another in a
peculiar manner; they seemed to be melted into tenderness
and affection toward each other : and I thought that par
ticular token of their being the disciples of Christ, viz. of
their " having love one toward another," had scarce ever
appeared more evident than at this time.
Lord's day, April 6. Preached from Matt. vii. 21—23.
" Not every one that saith unto me," &c. There were

Part II.
considerable effects of the word visible in the audience,
and such as were very desirable : an earnest attention, a
great solemnity, many tears and heavy sighs, which were
modestly suppressed in a considerable measure, and
appeared unaffected, and without any indecent commotion
of the passions. Divers of the religious people were put
upon serious and close examination of their spiritual states,
by hearing that " not every one that saith to Christ, Lord,
Lord, shall enter into his kingdom." And some of them
expressed fears lest they had deceived themselves, and
taken up a false hope, because they found they had done
so little of the " will of his Father who is in heaven." —
There was one man brought under very great and press
ing concern for his soul ; which appeared more especially
after his retirement from public worship. And that which,
he says, gave him his great uneasiness, was, not so much
any particular sin, as that he had never done the will of
God at all, but had sinned continually, and so had no
claim to the kingdom of heaven.
In the afternoon I opened to them the discipline of
Christ in his church, and the method in which offenders
are to be dealt with. At which time the religious people
were much affected, especially when they heard, that the
offender continuing obstinate, must finally be esteemed and
treated " as a heathen man," as a pagan, that has no part
nor lot among God's visible people. Of this they seemed
to have the most awful apprehensions ; a state of heathen
ism, out of which they were so lately brought, appearing
very dreadful to them. — After public worship I visited
sundry houses to see how they spent the remainder of the
sabbath, and to treat with them solemnly on the gi'eat
concerns of their souls : and the Lord seemed to smile
upon my private endeavours, and to make these particular
and personal addresses more effectual upon some, than my
public discourses.
April 7. Discoursed to my people in the evening from
1 Cor. xi. 23 — 26. " For I have received of the Lord,"
&c. And endeavoured to open to them the institution,
nature, and ends of the Lord's supper, as well as the qua
lifications and preparations necessary to the right partici
pation of that ordinance. Sundry persons appeared much
affected with the love of Christ manifested in his making
this provision for the comfort of his people, at a season
when himself was just entering upon his sharpest suf
ferings. Lord's day, April 20. Discoursed both forenoon and
afternoon from Luke xxiv. explaining most of the chapter,
and making remarks upon it. There was a desirable atten
tion in the audience, though there was not so much appear
ance of affection and tenderness among them as has been
usual. — Our meeting was very full, there being sundry
strangers present, who had never been with us before.
In the evening catechised. My people answered the
questions proposed to them readily and distinctly ; and I
could perceive they advanced in their knowledge of the
principles of Christianity. There appeared an affectionate
melting in the assembly at this time. Sundry who, I trust,
are truly religious, were refreshed and quickened, and
seemed by their discourse and behaviour, after public
worship, to have their " hearts knit together in love."
This was a sweet and blessed season, like many others
that my poor people have been favoured with in months
past. God has caused this little fleece to be repeatedly wet
with the blessed dews of his divine grace, while all the
earth around has been comparatively dry.
April 25. Of late I apprehended that a number of per
sons in my congregation were proper subjects of the ordi
nance of the Lord's supper, and that it might be seasonable
speedily to administer it to them : and having taken advice
of some of the reverend correspondents in this solemn affair;
I accordinglv proposed and appointed the next Lord's day,
with leave of Divine Providence, for the administration of
this ordinance ; and this day, as preparatory thereto, was
set apart foe solemn fasting and prayer. The design of this
preparatory solemnity was to implore the blessing of God
upon our renewing covenant with him and with one
* There being at this time a terrible clamour raised against the Indians
in various places in the country, and insinuations as though I was training
them up to cut people's throats. Numbers wishing to have them banished
put of these parts, and some giviDg out great words, in order to fright and

A. D. 1745, NOVEMBER— 1746, JUNE.

411

another, to walk together in the fear of God, in love and
christian fellowship: and to entreat that his presence might
be with us in our designed approach to his table ; as well
as to humble ourselves before God on account of the ap
parent withdrawment (at least in a measure) of that bless
ed influence which has been so prevalent upon persons of
all ages among us ; as also on account of the rising appear
ance of carelessness, vanity, and vice among some, who,
some time since, appeared to be touched and affected with
divine truths, and brought to some sensibility of their miser
able and perishing state by nature. And that we might
also importunately pray for the peaceable settlement of the
Indians together in a body, that they might be a commo
dious congregation for the worship of God ; and that God
would blast and defeat all the attempts that were or might
be made against that pious design.*
The solemnity was observed and seriously attended, not
only by those who proposed to communicate at the Lord's
table, but by the whole congregation universally. In the
former part of the day, I endeavoured to open to my people
the nature and design of a first, as I had attempted more
briefly to do before, and to instruct them in the duties of
such a solemnity. In the afternoon, I insisted upon the
special reasons there were for our engaging in these solemn
exercises at this time ; both in regard of the need we stood
in of divine assistance, in order to a due preparation for
that sacred ordinance some of us were proposing, with
leave of Divine Providence, speedily to attend upon ; and
also in respect of the manifest decline of God's work here,
as to the effectual conviction and conversion of sinners,
there having been few of late deeply awakened out of a
state of security. The worship of God was attended with
great solemnity and reverence, with much tenderness and
many tears, by those who appear to be truly religious : and
there was some appearance of divine power upon those who
had been awakened some time before, and who were still
under concern.
After repeated prayer and attendance upon the word of
God, I proposed to the religious people, with as much
brevity and plainness as I could, the substance of the doc
trine of the christian faith, as 1 had formerly done, previous
to their baptism, and had their renewed cheerful assent to
it. I then led them to a solemn renewal of their baptismal
covenant, wherein they had explicitly and publicly given up
themselves to God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
avouching him to be their God ; and at the same time re
nouncing their heathenish vanities, their idolatrous and
superstitious practices, and solemnly engaging to take the
word of God, so far as it was, or might be, made known to
them, for the rule qf their lives, promising to walk together
in love, to watch over themselves, and one another ; to
lead lives of seriousness and devotion, and to discharge the
relative duties incumbent upon them respectively, &c,
This solemn transaction was attended with much gravity
and seriousness; and at the same time with utmost readi
ness, freedom, and cheerfulness ; and a religious union and
harmony of soul seemed to crown the whole solemnity. I
could not but think in the evening, that there had been
manifest tokens of the divine presence with us in all the
several services of the day ; though it was also manifest
there was not that concern among Christless souls that has
often appeared here.
April 26. Toward noon prayed with a dying child, and
gave a word of exhortation to the by-standers to prepare
for death, which seemed to take effect upon some. — In the
afternoon discoursed to my people from Matthew xxvi.
26 — 30. of the author, the nature, and design of the Lord's
supper ; and endeavoured to point out the worthy receivers
of that ordinance.
The religious people were affected, and even melted
with divine truths, — with a view of the dying love of
Christ. Sundry others who had been for some months un
der convictions of their perishing state, appeared now to be
much moved with concern, and afresh engaged in seeking
after an interest in Christ ; although 1 cannot say " the
word of God " appeared " so quick and powerful," so sharp
deter them from settling upon the best and most convenient track of their
own lands, threatening to molest and trouble them in the law, pretending a
claim to these lands themselves, although never purchased ofthe Indians,

412

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

and piercing to the assembly, as it had sometimes former
ly done. — Baptized two adult persons, both serious and
exemplary in their lives, and, I hope, truly religious. One
of them was the man particularly mentioned in my
Journal of the 6th instant ; who, although he was then
greatly distressed, because " he had never done the will of
God," has since, it is hoped, obtained spiritual comfort
upon good grounds.
In the evening I catechised those that were designed to
partake of the Lord's supper the next day, upon the insti
tution, nature, and end of that ordinance ; and had abun
dant satisfaction respecting their doctrinal knowledge and
fitness in that respect for an attendance upon it. They
likewise appeared, in general, to have an affecting sense of
the solemnity of this sacred ordinance, and to be humbled
under a sense of their own unworthiness to approach to
God in it ; and to be earnestly concerned that they might
be duly prepared for an attendance upon it. Their hearts
were full of love one toward another, and that was the
frame of mind they seemed much concerned to maintain,
and bring to the Lord's table with them. — In the singing
and prayer, after catechising, there appeared an agreeable
tenderness and melting among them, and such tokens of
brotherly love and affection, that would even constrain one
to say, " Lord, it is good to be here ;" it is good to dwell
where such a heavenly influence distils.
Lord's day, April 27. Preached from Tit. ii. 14.
" Who gave nimself for us," &c.  The word of God at
this time was attended with some appearance of divine
power upon the assembly ; so that the attention and gravity
of the audience was remarkable ; and especially towards
the conclusion of the exercise, divers persons were much
affected. Administered the sacrament of the Lord's supper to
twenty-three persons of the Indians, (the number of men
and women being near equal,) divers others, to the number
of five or six, being now absent at the Forks of Delaware,
who would otherwise have communicated with us. — The
ordinance was attended with great solemnity, and with a
most desirable tenderness and affection. And it was re
markable, that in the season of the performance of the
sacramental actions, especially in the distribution of the
bread, they seemed to be affected in a most lively manner,
as if " Christ had been " really " crucified before them."
And the words of the institution, when repeated and en
larged upon in the season of the administration, seemed to
meet with the same reception, to be entertained with the
same full and firm belief and affectionate engagement of
soul, as if the Lord Jesus Christ himself had been pre
sent, and had personally spoken to them. The affections
of the communicants, although considerably raised, were
notwithstanding agreeably regulated, and kept within
proper bounds. So that there was a sweet, gentle, and
affectionate melting, without any indecent or boisterous
commotion of the passions.
Having rested some time after the administration of the
sacrament, (being extremely tired with the necessary pro
lixity of the work,) I waited from house to house, and
conversed particularly with most ofthe communicants, and
found they had been almost universally refreshed at the
Lord's table " as with new wine." And never did I see
such an appearance of christian love among any people in
all my life. It was so remarkable, that one might well
have cried with an agreeable surprise, " Behold how they
love one another !" I think there could be no greater
tokens of mutual affection among the people of God in the
early days of Christianity, than what now appeared here.
The sight was so desirable, and so well becoming the
gospel, that nothing less could be said of it, than that it
was " the doing of the Lord," the genuine operations of
him " who is love !"
Toward night discoursed again on the forementioned
Tit. ii. 14. and insisted on the immediate end and design
of Christ's death, viz . " That he might redeem his people
from all iniquity," &c. This appeared to be a season of
divine power among us. The religious people were much
refreshed, and seemed remarkably tender and affectionate,
full of love, joy, peace, and desirous of being completely
" redeemed from all iniquity ;" so that some of them after
wards told me " they had never felt the like before." —

Convictions also appeared to be revived in many in
stances ; and divers persons were awakened whom I had
never observed under any religious impressions before.
Such was the influence that attended our assembly, and
so unspeakably desirable the frame of mind that many en
joyed in the divine service, that it seemed almost grievous
to conclude the public worship. And the congregation
when dismissed, although it was then almost dark, ap
peared loth to leave the place and employments that had
been rendered so dear to them by the benefits enjoyed,
while a blessed quickening influence distilled upon them.
— And upon the whole, I must say, I had great satisfac
tion relative to the administration of this ordinance in
divers respects. I have abundant reason to think, that
those who came to the Lord's table, had a good degree of
doctrinal knowledge of the nature and design of the ordi
nance ; and that they acted with understanding in what
they did.
In the preparatory services I found, I may justly say,
uncommon freedom in opening to their understandings
and capacities, the covenant of grace, and in showing them
the nature of this ordinance as a seal of that covenant.
Although many of them knew of no such thing as a seal
before my coming among them, or at least of the use and
design of it in the common affairs of life. They were like
wise thoroughly sensible that it was no more than a seal or
sign, and not the real body and blood of Christ. That it
was designed for the refreshment and edification of the
soul, and not for the feasting of the body. They were also
acquainted with the end of the ordinance, that they were
therein called to commemorate the dying love of Christ, &c.
And this competency of doctrinal knowledge, together
with their grave and decent attendance upon the ordi
nance, their affectionate melting under it, and the sweet
and christian frame of mind they discovered consequent
upon it, gave me great satisfaction respecting my adminis
tration of it to them. And O what a sweet and blessed
season was this ! God himself, I am persuaded, was in the
midst of his people, attending his own ordinances. And
I doubt not but many in the conclusion of the day, could
say, with their whole hearts, " Verily, a day thus spent in
God's house, is better than a thousand elsewhere." There
seemed to be but one heart among the pious people. The
sweet union, harmony, and endearing love and tenderness
subsisting among them, was, I thought, the most lively
emblem of the heavenly world I had ever seen.
April 28. Concluded the sacramental solemnity with
a discourse upon John xiv. 15. " If ye love me, keep my
commandments." At which time there appeared a very
agreeable tenderness in the audience in general, but espe
cially in the communicants. O how free, now engaged, and
affectionate did these appear in the service of God ! they
seemed willing to have their " ears bored to the door-posts
of God's house," and to be his servants for ever.
Observing numbers in this excellent frame, and the
assembly in general affected, and that by a divine influ
ence, I thought it proper to improve this advantageous
season, as Hezekiah did the desirable season of his great
passover, (2 Chron. xxxi.) in order to promote the blessed
reformation begun among them ; and to engage those that
appeared serious and religious to persevere therein ; and
accordingly proposed to' them, that they should renewedly
enter into covenant before God, that they would watch
over themselves and one another, lest they should dis
honour the name of Christ by falling into sinful and un
becoming practices. And especially that they would
watch against the sin of drunkenness, (the sin that easily
besets them,) and the temptations leading thereto ; as well
as the appearance of evil in that respect. They cheerfully
complied with the proposal, and explicitly joined in that
covenant; whereupon I proceeded in the most solemn
manner I was capable of, to call God to witness respecting
their sacred engagement ; and minded them of the great
ness of the guilt they would contract to themselves in the
violation of it ; as well as observed to them, that God
would be a terrible witness against those who should
E resume to do so, in the " great and notable day of the
,ord." J
It was a season of amazing solemnity ! and a divine awe
appeared upon the face of the whole assembly in this

Part II.

A. D. 1745, NOVEMBER-1746, JUNE.

413

transaction ! Affectionate sobs, sighs, and tears, were now
frequent in the audience : and I doubt not but that many
silent cries were then sent up to the fountain of grace, for
supplies of grace sufficient for the fulfilment of these
solemn engagements. Baptized six children this day.
Lord's day, May 4. My people being now removed to
their lands, mentioned in my Journal of March 24, where
they were then, and have since been, making provision for
a compact settlement, in order to their more convenient en
joyment of the gospel, and other means of instruction, as
well as the comforts of life ; I this day visited them, (being
now obliged to board with an English family at some dis
tance from them,) and preached to them in" the forenoon
from Mark iv. 5. " And some fell on stony ground," &c.
Endeavoured to show them the reason there was to fear
lest many promising appearances and hopeful beginnings
in religion, might prove abortive, like the " seed dropped
upon stony places. '
In the afternoon discoursed upon Rom. viii. 9. " Now if
any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his."
I have reason to think this discourse was peculiarly season
able, and that it had a good effect upon some of the
hearers. — Spent some hours afterwards in private con
ferences with my people, and laboured to regulate some
things I apprehended amiss among some of them.
May 5. Visited my people again, and took care of their
worldly concerns, giving them directions relating to their
business. — I daily discover more and more of what im
portance it is like to be to their religious interests, that they
become laborious and industrious, acquainted with the
affairs of husbandry, and able, in a good measure, to raise
the necessaries and comforts of life within themselves ; for
tlieir present method of living greatly exposes them to
temptations of various kinds.
May 9. Preached from John v. 40. " And ye will not
come to me," &c. in the open wilderness ; the Indians
having as yet no house for public worship in this place,
nor scarce any shelters for themselves. Divine truths
made considerable impressions upon the audience, and it
was a season of solemnity, tenderness, and affection.
Baptized one man this day, (the conjurer, murderer,
&c. mentioned in my Journ?! of August 8, 1745, and
February 1, 1746,) who appears to be such a remarkable
instance of divine grace, that I cannot omit some brief ac
count of him here. He lived near, and sometimes attend
ed my meeting in, the Forks qf Delaware for more than a
year together; but was, like many others of them, ex
tremely attached to strong drink, and seemed to be no
ways reformed by the means I used with them for their
instruction and conversion. At this time he likewise mur
dered a likely young Indian ; which threw him into some
kind of horror and desperation, so that he kept at a dis
tance from me, and refused to hear me preach for several
months together, till I had an opportunity of conversing
freely with him, and giving him encouragement, that his
sin might be forgiven for Christ's sake. After which he
again attended my meeting some times.
But that which was the worst of all his conduct, was
his conjuration. He was one of them who are sometimes
called powows among the Indians : and notwithstanding
his frequent attendance upon my preaching, he still follow
ed his old charms and juggling tricks, " giving out that
himself was some great one, and to him they gave heed,"
supposing him to be possessed of a great power. So that
when I have instructed them respecting the miracles
wrought by Christ in healing the sick, &c. and mentioned
them as evidences of his divine mission, and the truth of
his doctrines, they have quickly observed the wonders of
that kind which this man had performed by his magic
charms. Whence they had a high opinion of him, and his
superstitious notions, which seemed to be a fatal obstruc
tion to some of them in regard of their receiving the gos
pel. And I have often thought it would be a great favour
to the design of gospellizing these Indians, if God would
take that wretch out of the world ; for I had scarce any
hope of his ever coming to good. But God, " whose
thoughts are not as man's thoughts," has been pleased to
take a much more desirable method with him ; a method
agreeable to his own merciful nature, and, I trust, advan
tageous to his own interest among the Indians, as well as

effectual to the salvation of this poor soul. To God be
the glory of it.
The first genuine concern for his soul that ever appear
ed in him, was excited by seeing my interpreter and his
wife baptized at the Forks qf Delaware, July 21, 1745.
Which so prevailed upon him, that with the invitation of
an Indian, who was a friend to Christianity, he followed
me down to Crossweeksung in the beginning of August
following, in order to hear me preach, and there continued
for several weeks in the season of the most remarkable
and powerful awakening among the Indians; at which
time he was more effectually awakened, and brought un
der great concern for his soul. And then, he says, upon
his " feeling the word of God in his heart," as he ex
presses it, his spirit of conjuration left him entirely ; that
ne had no more power of that nature since, than any other
man living. And declares that he does not now so much
as know how he used to charm and conjure ; and that he
could not do any thing of that nature if he was never so
desirous of it.
He continued under convictions of his sinful and pe
rishing state, and a considerable degree of concern for his
soul, all the fall and former part of the winter past, but
was not so deeply exercised till some time in January ;
and then the word of God took such hold upon him, that
he was brought into great distress, and knew not what to
do, nor where to turn himself. — He then told me, that
when he used to hear me preach from time to time in the
fall of the year, my preaching pricked his heart and made
him very uneasy, but did not bring him to so great distress,
because he still hoped he could do something for his own
relief: but now, he said, I drove him up into " such a
sharp corner," that he had no way to turn, and could not
avoid being in distress.
He continued constantly under the heavy burden and
pressure of a wounded spirit, till at length he was brought
into the acute anguish and utmost agony qf soul, mention
ed in my Journal of Feb. 1, which continued that night,
and part of the next day. — After this, he was brought to
the utmost calmness and composure of mind, his trem
bling and heavy burden was removed, and he appeared
perfectly sedate ; although he had, to his apprehensions,
scarce .any hope of salvation.
I observed him to appear remarkably composed, and
thereupon asked him how he did ? He replied, " It is
done, it is done, it is all done now." I asked him what
he meant? He answered, " I can never do any more to
save myself; it is all done for ever, I can do no more." I
queried with him, whether he could not do a little more
rather than to go to hell. He replied, " My heart is
dead, I can never help myself." 1 asked him, what he
thought would become of him then ? He answered, " I
must go to hell." I asked him if he thought it was right
that God should send him to hell ? He replied, " O it is
right. The devil has been in me ever since I was born."
I asked him if he felt this when he was in such great dis
tress the evening before ? He answered, " No, I did not
then think it was right. I thought God would send me
to hell, and that I was then dropping into it ; but my heart
quarrelled with God, and would not say it was right he
should send me there. But now I know it is right, for I
have always served the devil, and my heart has no good
ness in it now, but is as bad as ever it was," &c. — I thought
I had scarce ever seen any person more effectually brought
off from a dependence upon his own contrivances and en
deavours for salvation, or more apparently to lie at the foot
of sovereign mercy, than this man now did under these
views of things.
In this frame of mind he continued for several days,
passing sentence of condemnation upon himself, and con
stantly owning, that it would be right he should be
damned, and that he expected this would be his portion
for the greatness of his sins. And yet it was plain he
had a secret hope of mercy, though imperceptible to him
self, which kept hirn not only from despair, but from any
pressing distress : so that instead of being sad and deject
ed, his very countenance appeared pleasant and agreeable.
While he was in this frame, he sundry times asked me
" When I would preach again 1" and seemed desirous to
hear the word of God every day. I asked him why he

414

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

wanted to hear me preach, seeing " his heart was dead,
and all was done ?" That " he could never help himself,
and expected that he must go to hell ?" He replied, " I
love to hear you speak about Christ for all." I added,
But what good wili that do you, if you must go to hell at
last? — using now his own language with him ; having be
fore, from time to time, laboured in the best manner I
could, to represent to him the excellency of Christ, his
all-sufficiency and willingness to save lost sinners, and
persons just in his case ; although to no purpose, as to
yielding him any special comfort. — He answered, " I
would have others come to Christ, if I must go to hell
myself." — It was remarkable, that he seemed to have a
great love to the people of God, and nothing affected him
so much as the thoughts of being separated from them.
This seemed to be a very dreadful part of the hell to which
he thought himself doomed. It was likewise remarkable,
that in this season he was most diligent in the use of all
means for his soul's salvation ; although he had the
clearest view of the insufficiency of means to afford him
help. And would frequently say, " That all he did signi
fied nothing at all ;" and yet was never more constant in
doing, attending secret and family prayer daily, and sur
prisingly diligent and attentive in hearing the word of God :
so that he neither despaired of mercy, nor yet presumed to
hope upon his own doings, but used means because ap
pointed of God in order to salvation; and because he
would wait upon God in his own way.
After he had continued in this frame of mind more than
a week, while I was discoursing publicly he seemed to
have a lively soul-refreshing view of the excellency of
Christ, and the way of salvation by him, which melted
him into tears, and filled him with admiration, comfort,
satisfaction, and praise to God. Since then he has appear
ed to be an humble, devout, and affectionate Christian ;
serious and exemplary in his conversation and behaviour,
frequently complaining of his barrenness, his want of
spiritual warmth, life, and activity, and yet frequently
favoured with quickening and refreshing influences. And.
in all respects, so far as I am capable to judge, he bears
the marks and characters of one " created anew in Christ
Jesus to good works."
His zeal for the cause of God was pleasing to me when
he was with me at the Forks qf Delaware in February
last. There being an old Indian at the place where I
preached, who threatened to bewitch me and my religious
people who accompanied me there ; this man presently
challenged him to do his worst, telling him that himself
had been as great a conjurer as he, and that notwithstand
ing, as soon as he felt that word in his heart which these
people loved, (meaning the word of God,) his power of
conjuring immediately left him. — And so it would you,
said he, if you did but once feel it in your heart ; and you
have no power to hurt them, nor so much as to touch one
of them, &c.  So that I may conclude my account of
him by observing, (in allusion to what was said of St.
Paul,) that he now zealously defends, and practically
" preaches, the faith which he once destroyed," or at least
was instrumental of obstructing. May God have the
glory qf the amazing change he has wrought in him !
Lord's day, May 18. Discoursed both parts of the day
from Rev. iii. 20. " Behold, I stand at the door," &c.
There appeared some affectionate melting towards the con
clusion of the forenoon exercise, and one or two instances
of fresh awakening. In the intermission of public wor
ship, I took occasion to discourse to numbers in a more
private way, on the kindness and patience of the blessed
Redeemer in standing and knocking, in continuing his
gracious calls to sinners, who had long neglected and
abused his grace ; which seemed to take some effect upon
sundry. In the afternoon divine truths were attended with so
lemnity, and with some tears, although there was not that
powerful, awakening, and quickening influence, whioh in
times past has been common in our assemblies. The ap
pearance of the audience under divine truths was com
paratively discouraging ; and I was ready to fear that
God was about to withdraw the blessed influence of his
Spirit from us.
May 19. Visited and preached to my people from

Acts xx. 18, 19. " And when they were come to him, he
said unto them, Ye know, from the first day," &c. and en
deavoured to rectify their notions about religious affections ;
showing them, on the one hand, the desirableness of reli
gious affection, tenderness, and fervent engagement in the
worship and service of God, when such affection flows
from a true spiritual discovery of divine glories, from a
justly affecting sense of the transcendent excellency and
perfections of the blessed God, — a view of the glory and
loveliness of the great Redeemer : and that such views
of divine things will naturally excite us to " serve the
Lord with many tears," with much affection and fervency,
and yet " with all humility of mind :" — And, on the other
hand, observing the sinfulness of seeking after high affec
tions immediately, and for their own sakes, that is, of
making them the object of our eye and heart, is nextly and
principally set upon, when the glory of God ought to be
so. Showed them that if the heart be directly and chiefly
fixed on God, and the soul engaged to glorify him, some
degree of religious affection will be the effect and attend
ant of it. But to seek after affection directly and chiefly,
to have the heart principally set upon that, is to place it in
the room of God and his glory. If it be sought, that
others may take notice and admire us for our spirituality
and forwardness in religion, it is then abominable pride :
if for the sake of feeling the pleasure of being affected, it
is then idolatry and self-gratification  Laboured also to
expose the disagreeableness of those affections that are
sometimes wrought up in persons by the power of fancy
and their own attempts for that purpose, while I still en
deavoured to recommend to them that religious affection,
fervency, and devotion which ought to attend all our reli
gious exercises, and without which religion will be but an
empty name and lifeless carcass.
This appeared to be a seasonable discourse, and proved
very satisfactory to some of the religious people, who be
fore were exercised with some difficulties relating to this
point. — Afterwards took care of, and gave my people
directions about, their worldly affairs.
May 24. Visited the Indians, and took care of their
secular business, which they are not able to manage them
selves, without the constant care and advice of others. —
Afterwards discoursed to some particularly about their
spiritual concerns.
Lord's day, May 25. Discoursed both parts of the day
from John xii. 44 — 48. " Jesus cried and said, He that
believeth on me," &c. There was some degree of divine
power attending the word of God. Sundry wept and ap
peared considerably affected : and one who had long been
under spiritual trouble, now obtained clearness and com
fort, and appeared to " rejoice in God her Saviour." It
was a day of grace and divine goodness ; a day wherein
something I trust was done for the cause of God among
my people : a season of sweetness and comfort to divers
ofthe religious people, although there was not that power
ful influence upon the congregation which was common
some months ago.
Lord's day, June 1, 1746. Preached both forenoon and
afternoon from Matt. xi. 27, 28. The presence of God seem
ed to be in the assembly, and numbers were considerably
melted and affected under divine truths. There was a
desirable appearance in the congregation in general, an
earnest attention and agreeable tenderness, and it seemed
as if God designed to visit us with further showers of
divine grace. — I then baptized ten persons, five adults and
five children, and was not a little refreshed with this " ad
dition made to the church of such as, I hope, shall be
saved." I have reason to hope that God has lately (at and since
our celebration of the Lord's supper) brought home to
himself sundry souls who had long been under spiritual
trouble and concern ; although there have been few in
stances of persons lately awakened out of a state of
security. And those comforted of late seem to be
brought in in a more silent way, neither their concern nor
consolation being so powerful and remarkable as appeared
among those more suddenly wrought upon in the begin
ning of this work of grace.
June 6. Discoursed to my people from part of Isa. liii.
— The divine presence appeared to be amongst us in some

Part II.

A. D. 1745, NOVEMBER-JUNE, 1746.

415

measure. Divers persons were much melted and refresh
ed ; and one man in particular, who had long been under
concern for his soul, was now brought to see and feel, in a
very lively manner, the impossibility of his doing any
thing to help himself, or to bring him into the favour of
God, by his tears, prayers, and other religious perform
ances ; and 'found himself undone as to any power or
goodness of his own, and that there was no way left him,
but to leave himself with God to be disposed of as he
pleased. June 7. Being desired by the Rev. Mr. William Ten
nent to be his assistant in the administration of the Lord's
supper ; my people also being invited to attend the sacra
mental solemnity, they cheerfully embraced the oppor
tunity, and this day attended the preparatory services
with me.
Lord's day, June 8. Most of my people who had been
communicants at the Lord's table before, being present at
this sacramental occasion, communicated with others in
this holy ordinance at the desire, and I trust, to the satis
faction and comfort, of numbers of God's people who had
longed to see this day, and whose hearts had rejoiced in this
work of grace among the Indians, which prepared the way
for what appeared so agreeable at this time. — Those of my
people who communicated seemed in general agreeably
affected at the Lord's table, and some of them considerably
melted with the love of Christ ; although they were not
so remarkably refreshed and feasted at this time as when
I administered this ordinance to them in our own congre
gation only.
Some of the bystanders were affected with seeing these
who had been " aliens from the commonwealth of Israel,
and strangers to the covenant of promise," who of all men
had lived " without hope, and without God in the world,"
now brought near to God as his professing people, and
sealing covenant with him, by a solemn and devout at
tendance upon this sacred ordinance. And as numbers of
God's people were refreshed with this sight, and thereby
excited to bless God for the enlargement of his kingdom
in the world, so some others, I was told, were awakened
by it, apprehending the danger they were in of being
themselves finally cast out, while they saw others, "from
the east and west," preparing, and hopefully prepared in
some good measure, to " sit down in the kingdom of
God." At this season others of my people also, who were not
communicants, were considerably affected ; convictions
were revived in divers instances ; and one (the man parti
cularly mentioned in my Journal of the 6th instant) ob
tained comfort and satisfaction ; and has since given me
such an account of his spiritual exercises, and the manner
in which he obtained relief, as appears very hopeful. It
seems as if he " who commanded the light to shine out of
darkness," had now " shined in his heart, and given him
the light of," and experimental " knowledge of, the glory
of God in the face of Jesus Christ."
June 3. A considerable number of my people met to
gether early in the day in a retired place in the woods, and
prayed, sang, and conversed of divine things ; and were
seen by some religious persons of the white people, to be

affected and engaged, and divers of them in tears, in these
religious exercises.
Afterwards they attended the concluding exercises of the
sacramental solemnity, and then returned home, divers of
them " rejoicing for all the goodness of God " they had
seen and felt ; so that this appeared to be a profitable, as
well as a comfortable season, to numbers of my congrega
tion. And their being present at this occasion, and a
number of them communicating at the Lord's table with
others of God's people, was, I trust, for the honour of God
and the interest of religion in these parts, as numbers, I
have reason to think, were quickened by means of it.
June 13. Preached to my people upon the new crea
ture, from 2 Cor. v. 17. " If any man be in Christ," &c.
The presence "of God appeared to be in the assembly. — It
was a sweet and agreeable meeting, wherein the people of
God were refreshed and strengthened, beholding their faces
in the glass of God's word, and finding in themselves the
marks and lineaments of the new creature. Some sinners
under concern were also renewedly affected, and afresh
engaged for the securing of their eternal interests.
Baptized five persons at this time, three adults and two
children. One of these was the very aged woman, of whose
exercise I gave an account in my Journal of Dec. 26.
She now gave me a very punctual, rational, and satisfac
tory account of the remarkable change she experienced
some months after the beginning of her concern, which, I
must say, appeared to be the genuine operations of the di
vine Spirit, so far as I am capable of judging. And al
though she was become so childish through old age, tha$
I could do nothing in a way of questioning with her, nor
scarce make her understand any that I asked her; yet
when I let her alone to go on with her own story, she
could give a very distinct and particular relation of the
many and various exercises of soul she had experienced ;
so deep were the impressions left upon her mind by that
influence, and that exercise she had been under ! And I
have great reason to hope, she is born anew in her old age,
she being, I presume, upwards of fourscore. I had good
hopes of the other adults, and trust they are such as God
wiil own " in the day when he makes up his jewels."
June 19. Visited my people with two of the reverend
correspondents. Spent some time in conversation with
some of them upon spiritual things ; and took some care
of their worldly concerns.
This day makes up a complete year from the first time
of my preaching to these Indians in New Jersey. — What
amazing things has God wrought in this space of time for
these poor people ! What a surprising change appears in
their tempers and behaviour ! How are morose and savage
pagans in this short space of time transformed into agree
able, affectionate, and humble Christians ! and their
drunken and pagan howlings turned into devout and
fervent prayers and praises to God ! They " who were
sometimes darkness, are now become light in the Lord-
May they walk as children of the light, and of the dav.
And now to him that is of power to stablish them accord
ing to the gospel, and the preaching of Christ  To God
only wise, be glory, through Jesus Christ, for ever and
ever ! Amen."

FIRST APPENDIX 10
MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL:
CONTAINING HIS GENERAL REMARKS ON THE DOCTRINES PREACHED,
THEIR EXTRAORDINARY EFFECTS, &c.

SECT. I.
The doctrine preached to the Indians.
Before I conclude the present Journal, I would make
n few general remarks upon what to me appears worthy of
notice, relating to die continued work of grace among my
people. And, first, I cannot but take notice, that I have,
in the general, ever since my first coming among these
Indians in New Jersey, been favoured with that assistance,
which to me is uncommon, in preaching Christ crucified,
and making him the centre and mark to which all my dis
courses among them were directed.
Jt was the principal scope and drift of all my discourses
to this people, for several months together, (after having
taught them something of the being and perfections of God,
his creation of man in a state of rectitude and happiness,
and the obligations mankind were thence under to love
and honour him,) to lead them into an acquaintance
with their deplorable state by nature, as fallen creatures :
their inability to extricate and deliver themselves from it :
the utter insufficiency of any external reformations and
amendments of life, or of any religious performances, they
were capable of, while in this state, to bring them into the
favour of God, and interest them in his eternal mercy.
And thence to show them their absolute need of Christ to
redeem and save them from the misery of their fallen state.
 To open his all-sufficiency and willingness to save the
chief of sinners.  Theyreeraess and riches of divine grace,
proposed " without money, and without price," to all that
will accept the offer. — And thereupon to press them with
out delay, to betake themselves to him, under a sense of
their misery and undone state, for relief and everlasting
salvation. — And to show them the abundant encourage
ment the gospel proposes to needy, perishing, and helpless
sinners, in order to engage them so to do. These things I
repeatedly and largely insisted upon from time to time.
And I have oftentimes remarked with admiration, that
whatever subject I have been treating upon, after having
spent time sufficient to explain and illustrate the truths
contained therein, I have been naturally and easily led to
Christ as the substance of every subject. If I treated on
the being and glorious perfections of God, I was thence
naturally led to discourse of Christ as the only " way to
the Fatter." — If I attempted to open the deplorable misery
of our fallen state, it was natural from thence to show the
• necessity of Christ to undertake for us, to atone for our
sins, and to redeem us from the power of them. If I
taught the commands of God, and showed our violation of
them, this brought me in the most easy and natural way,
to speak of and recommend the Lord Jesus Christ, as one
who had " magnified the law" we had broken, and who
was " become the end of it for righteousness, to every one
that believes." And never did I find so much freedom
and assistance in making all the various lines of my dis
courses meet together, and centre in Christ, as I have
frequently done among these Indians.

Sometimes when I have had thoughts of offering but a
few words upon some particular subject, and saw no oc
casion, nor indeed much room, for any considerable
enlargement, there has at unawares appeared such a foun
tain of gospel-grace shining forth in, or naturally resulting
from, a just explication of it, and Christ has seemed in such
a manner to be pointed out as the substance of what I was
considering and explaining, that I have been drawn in a
way not only easy and natural, proper and pertinent, but
almost unavoidable, to discourse of him, either in regard of
his undertaking, incarnation, satisfaction, admirable fit
ness for the work of man's redemption, or the infinite need
that sinners stand in of an interest in him ; which has
opened the way for a continual strain of gospel-invitation
to perishing souls, to come empty and naked, weary and
lieavy laden, and cast themselves upon them.
And as I have been remarkably influenced and assisted
to dwell upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of sal
vation by nim, in the general current of my discourses
here, and have been at times surprisingly furnished with
pertinent matter relating to him, and the design of his in
carnation ; so I have been no less assisted oftentimes in
regard of an advantageous manner of opening the mysteries
of divine grace, and representing the infinite excellencies
and " unsearchable riches of Christ," as well as of recom
mending him to the acceptance of perishing sinners. I
have frequently been enabled to represent the divine
glory, the infinite preciousness and transcendent loveliness
of the great Redeemer ; the suitableness of his person and
purchase to supply the wants, and answer the utmost
desires, of immortal souls : — to open the infinite riches of
his grace, and the wonderful encouragement proposed in
the gospel to unworthy, helpless sinners : — to call, invite,
and beseech them to come and give up themselves to him,
and be reconciled to God through him : — to expostulate
with them respecting their neglect of one so infinitely
lovely, and freely offered : — and this in such a manner,
with such freedom, pertinency, pathos, and application to
the conscience, as, I am sure, I never could have made
myself master of by the most assiduous application of
mind. And frequently at such seasons I have been sur
prisingly helped in adapting my discourses to the capa
cities of my people, and bringing them down into such
easy and familiar methods of expression, as has rendered
them intelligible even to pagans.
1 do not mention these things as a recommendation of
my own performances ; for I am sure I found, from time
to time, that I had no skill or wisdom for my great work ;
and knew not how " to choose out acceptable words "
proper to address poor benighted pagans with. But thus
God was pleased to help me, " not to know any thing
among them, save Jesus Christ and him crucified. Tnus
I was enabled to show them their misery without him, and
to represent his complete fitness to redeem and save them.
And this was the preaching God made use of for the
awakening of sinners, and the propagation of this " work
of grace among the Indians."  And it was remarkable,

Sect. II.

MORAL EFFECTS OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINES.

417

from time to time, that when I was favoured with any
special freedom, in discoursing of the " ability and willing
ness of Christ to savesinners," and " the need they stood
in of such a Saviour," there was then the greatest appear
ance of divine power in awakening numbers of secure
souls, promoting convictions begun, and comforting the
distressed. I have sometimes formerly, in reading the apostle's dis
course to Cornelius, (Acts x.) wondered to see him so
quickly introduce the Lord Jesus Christ into his sermon,
and so entirely dwell upon him through the whole of it,
observing him in this point very widely to differ from
many of our modern preachers : but latterly this has not
seemed strange, since Christ has appeared to be the sub
stance of the gospel, and the centre in which the several
lines of divine revelation meet. Although I am still sensi
ble there are many things necessary to be spoken toper-
sons under pagan darkness, in order to make way for a
proper introduction of the name of Christ, and his under
taking in behalf of fallen man.

SECT. II.
Morality, sobriety, and external duties, promoted by preach
ing Christ crucified.
It is worthy of remark, secondly, that numbers of these
people are brought to a strict compliance with the rules of
morality and sobriety, and to a conscientious performance
of the external duties of Christianity, by the internal power
and influence of divine truths — the peculiar doctrines of
grace — upon their minds ; without their having these moral
duties frequently repeated and inculcated upon them, and
the contrary vices particularly exposed and spoken against.
What has been the general strain and drift of my preach
ing among these Indians ; what were the truths I princi
pally insisted upon, and how I was influenced and enabled
to dwell from time to time upon the peculiar doctrines of
grace ; I have already observed in the preceding remarks.
Those doctrines, which had the most direct tendency to
humble the fallen creature, to show him the misery of his
natural state, to bring him down to the foot of sovereign
mercy, and to exalt the great Redeemer — discover his
transcendent excellency and infinite preciousness, and so
to recommend him to the sinner's acceptance — were the
subject-matter of what was delivered in public and private
to them, and from time to time repeated and inculcated
upon them.
And God was pleased to give these divine truths such a
powerful influence upon the minds of these people, and so
to bless them for the effectual awakening of numbers of
them, that their lives were quickly reformed, without my
insisting upon the precepts of morality, and spending time
in. repeated' harangues upon external duties. There was
indeed no room for any kind of discourses but those that
respected the essentials of religion, and the experimental
knowledge of divine things, whilst there were so many
inquiring daily^-not how they should regulate their ex
ternal conduct, for that persons, who are honestly disposed
to comply with duty, when known, may, in ordinary cases,
be easily satisfied about, but — how they should escape
from the wrath they feared, and felt a desert of, — obtain
an effectual change of heart, — get an interest in Christ, —
and come to the enjoyment of eternal blessedness '! So
that my great work still was to lead them into a further
view of their utter undoneness in themselves, the total de
pravity and corruption of their hearts;. that there was no
manner of goodness in them ; no good dispositions nor
desires ; no love to God, nor delight in his commands :
but, on the contrary, hatred, enmity, and all manner of
wickedness reigning in them : — and at the same time to
open to them the glorious and complete remedy provided
in Christ for helpless, perishing sinners, and offered freely
to those who have no goodness of their own, no " works
of righteousness which they have done," to recommend
them to God.
This was the continued strain of my preaching ; this my
great concern and constant endeavour, so to enlighten the
mind, as thereby duly to affect the heart, and, as far as
VOL. II. 2 E

possible, give persons a sense and feeling of these precious
and important doctrines of grace, at least, so far as means
might conduce to it. And these were the doctrines, — this
the method of preaching, which were blessed of God for
the awakening, and, I trust, the saving conversion of num
bers of souls, — and which were made the means of pro
ducing a remarkable reformation among the hearers in
general. When these truths were felt at heart, there was now no
vice unreforraed, — no external duty neglected.  Drunk
enness, the darling vice, was broken off from, and scarce an
instance of it known among my hearers for months toge
ther. The abusive practice of husbands and wives in put-'
ting away each other, and taking others in their stead, was'
quickly reformed ; so that there are three or four couple
who have voluntarily dismissed those they had wrongfully
taken, and now live together again in love and peace. The
same might be said of all other vicious practices. — The
reformation was general ; and all springing from the in
fernal influence of divine truths upon their hearts; and not
from any external restraints, or because they had heard
these vices particularly exposed, and repeatedly spoken
against. Some of them I never so much as mentioned ;
particularly, that of the parting of men and their wives,
till some, having their conscience awakened by God's
word, came, and qf their own accord confessed themselves
guilty in that respect. And when I did at any time men
tion their wicked practices, and the sins they were guilty
of contrary to the light qf nature, it was not with design,
nor indeed with any hope, of working an effectual reform
ation in their external manners by this means, for I knew,
that while the tree remained corrupt, the fruit would na
turally be so ; but with design to lead them, by observing
the wickedness of their lives, to a view of 'the corruption
of their hearts, and so to convince them of the necessity of
a renovation of nature, and to excite them with utmost
diligence to seek after that great change, which, if once
obtained, I was sensible, would of course produce a re
formation of external manners in every respect.
And as all vice was reformed upon their feeling the
power of these truths upon their hearts, so the external
duties of Christianity were complied with, and conscien
tiously performed, from the same internal influence; fa
mily prayer set up, and constantly maintained, unless
among some few more lately come, who had felt little of
this divine influence. This duty was constantly perform
ed, even in some families where there were none but
females, and scarce a prayerless person to be found among
near a hundred of them. The Lord's day was seriouslv
and religiously observed, and care taken by parents to
keep their children orderly upon that sacred day, &c. And
this, not because I had driven them to the performance of
these duties by a frequent inculcating of them, but be
cause they had felt the power of God's word upon tlieir
hearts, — were made sensible of their sin and misery, and
thence could not but pray, and comply with every thing
they knew was duty, from what they felt within them
selves. When their hearts were touched with a sense of
their eternal concerns, they could pray with great freedom,
as well as fervency, without being at the trouble first to
learn set forms for that purpose. And some of them who
were suddenly awakened at their first coming among us,
were brought to pray and cry for mercy with utmost im
portunity, without ever being instructed in the duty of
prayer, or so much as once directed to a performance of it.
The happy effects of these peculiar doctrines of grace,
which I have so much insisted upon with this people,
plainly discover, even to demonstration, that instead of
their opening a door to licentiousness, as many vainlv
imagine, and slanderously insinuate, they have a direct
contrary tendency : so that a close application, a sense and
feeling of them, will have the most powerful influence to
ward the renovatipn, and effectual reformation, both of
heart and life.
And happy experience, as well as the word of God,
and the example of Christ and his apostles, has taught
me, that the very method of preaching which is best suited
to awaken in mankind a sense and lively apprehension of
their depravity and misery in a fallen state, — to excite
them earnestly to seek after a change of heart, and to

418

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. I.

Ay for '¦efu.ge to free and sovereign grace in Christ, as the
only hape set before them, is like to "be most successful to
ward the reformation of their external conduct. — I have
found that close addresses, and solemn applications of
divine truth to the conscience, tend directly to strike
death to the root of all vice ; while smooth and plausible
harangues upon moral virtues and external duties, at best
are like to do no more than lop off the branches of cor
ruption, while the root of all vice remains still untouched.
A view of the blessed effect of honest endeavours to
bring home divine truths to the conscience, and duly to
affect the heart with them, has often minded me of those
words of our Lord, (which I have thought might be a
proper exhortation for ministers in respect of their treating
with others, as well as for persons in general with regard
to themselves,) "Cleanse first the inside of the cup and
platter, that the outside may be clean also." Cleanse,
says he, the inside, that the outside may be clean. As if
he had said, The only effectual way to have the outside
clean, is to begin with what, is within ; and if the fountain
be purified, the streams will naturally be pure. And
most certain it is, if we can awaken in sinners a lively
sense of their inward pollution and depravity — their need
of a change of heart — and so engage them to seek after
inward cleansing, their external defilement will naturally
be cleansed, their vicious ways of course bo reformed, and
their conversation and behaviour become regular.
Now, although I cannot pretend that the reformation
among my people does, in every instance, spring from a
saving change of heart ; yet I may truly say, it flows
from some heart-affecting view and sense of divine truths
that all have had in a greater or less degree. — I do not
intend, by what I have observed here, to represent the
preaching of morality, and pressing persons to the external
performance of duty, to be altogether unnecessary and
useless at any time ; and especially at times when tliere is
less of divine power attending the means of grace ;—
when, for want of internal influences, there is need of
external restraints. It is doubtless among the things that
"ought to be done," while "others are not to be left un
done." — But what I principally designed by this remark,
was to discover plain matter of fact, viz. That the refor
mation, the sobriety, and external compliance with the
rules and duties of Christianity, appearing among ray
people, are not the effect of any mere doctrinal instruction,
or merely rational view of the beauty of morality, but
from the internal power and influence that divine truths
(the soul-humbling doctrines of grace) have had upon
their hearts.

SECT. III.
Continuance, renewal, and quickness qf the work.
It is remarkable, thirdly, that God has so continued and
renewed showers of his grace here : — so quickly set up his
visible kingdom among these people ; and so smiled upon
them in relation to their acquirement of knowledge, both
divine and human. It is now near a year smce the begin
ning of this gracious outpouring of the divine Spirit
among them : and although it has often seemed to decline
and abate for some short space of time— as may be observed
by several passages of my Journal, where I have en
deavoured to note things just as they appeared to me —
yet the shower has seemed to be renewed, and the work of
grace revived again. So that a divine influence seems still
apparently to attend the means of grace, in a greater or
less degree, in most of our meetings for religious exercises ;
whereby religious persons are refreshed, strengthened, and
established, — convictions revived and promoted in many
instances, — and some few persons newly awakened from
time to time. Although it must be acknowledged, that for
some time past, there has, in the general, appeared a more
manifest decline of this work, and the divine Spirit has
seemed, in a considerable measure, withdrawn, especially
in regard of his awakening influence — so that the strangers
who come latterly, are not seized with concern as formerly ;
and some few who have been much affected with divine
truths in time past, now appear less concerned. — Yet,

blessed be God, there is still an appearance of divine
power and grace, a desirable degree of tenderness, religious
affection, and devotion in our assemblies.
And as God has continued and renewed the showers of
his grace among this people for some time ; so he has
with uncommon quickness set up his visible kingdom, and
gathered himself a church in the midst of them. I have
now baptized, since the conclusion of my last Journal, (or
the First Part,) thirty persons, fifteen adults and fifteen
children. Which added to the number there mentioned,
makes seventy-seven persons ; whereof thirty-eight are
adults, and thirty-nine children ; and all within the space
of eleven months past. — And it must be noted, that I have
baptized no adults, but such as appeared to have a work
of special grace wrought in their hearts ; I mean such
who have had the experience not only of the awakening
and humbling, but, in a judgment of charity, of the re
newing and comforting, influences of the divine Spirit.
There are many others under solemn concern for their
souls, who (I apprehend) are persons of sufficient know
ledge, and visible seriousness, at present, to render them
proper subjects of the ordinance of baptism. Yet, since
they give no comfortable evidences of having as yet passed
a saving change, but only appear under convictions of
their sin and misery, and having no principle of spiritual
life wrought in them, they are liable to lose the impressions
of religion they are now under. Considering also, the
great propensity there is in this people naturally to abuse
themselves with strong drink, and fearing lest some, who
at present appear serious and concerned for their souls,
might lose their concern, and return to this sin, and so, if
baptized, prove a scandal to their profession, I have there
fore thought proper hitherto to omit the baptism of any
but such who give some hopeful evidences of a saving
change, although I do not pretend to determine positively
respecting the states of any.
I likewise administered the Lord's supper to a number
of persons, who I have abundant reason to think (as I
elsewhere observed) were proper subjects of that ordi
nance, within the space of ten months and ten days after
my first coming among these Indians in New Jersey.
And from the time that, I am informed, some of them
were attending an idolatrous feast and sacrifice in honour
to devils, to the time they sat down at the Lord's table,
(I trust,) to the honour of God, was not more than a full
year. Surely Christ's little flock here, so suddenly gathered
from among pagans, may justly say, in the language of
the church of old, "The Lord hath done great things for
us, whereof we are glad."
Much of the goodness of God has also appeared in rela
tion to their acquirement of knowledge, both in religion
and in the affairs of common life. There has been a won
derful thirst after christian knowledge prevailing among
them in general, and an eager desire of being instructed in
christian doctrines and manners. This has prompted them
to ask many pertinent as well as important questions ; the
answers to which have tended much to enlighten their
minds, and promote their knowledge in divine things.
Many of the doctrines I have delivered, thev have queried
with me ab ut, in order to gain further light and insight
into them ; particularly the doctrine of predestination : and
have from time to time manifested a good understanding
of them, by their answers to the questions proposed to them
in my catechetical lectures.
They have likewise queried with me, respecting a proper
method as well as proper matter of prayer, and expressions
suitable to be used in that religious exercise ; and have
taken pains in order to the performance of this duty witli
understanding. — They have likewise taken pains, and ap
peared remarkably apt, in learning to sing psalm tunes,
and are now able to sing with a good degree of decency
in the worship of God. — They have also acquired a con
siderable degree of useful knowledge in the affairs of com
mon life : so that they now appear like rational creatures,
fit for human society, free of that savage roughness and
brutish stupidity, which rendered them very disagreeable
in their pagan state.
They seem ambitious of a thorough acquaintance with
the English language, and for that end frequently speak it
among themselves ; and many of them have made good

Sect IV.

CONTINUANCE, &c. OF THE WORK.

419

proficiency in their acquirement of it, since my coming
among them ; so that most of them can understand a con
siderable part, and some the substance of my discourses,
without an interpreter, (being used to my low and vulgar
methods of expression,) though they could not well under
stand other ministers.
And as they are desirous of instruction, and surprisingly
apt in the reception of it, so Divine Providence has smiled
upon them in regard of proper means in order to it. — The
attempts made for the procurement of a school among them
have been succeeded, and a kind Providence has sent them
a schoolmaster of whom I may justly say, I know of " no
man like minded, who will naturally care for their state."
— He has generally thirty or thirty-five children in his
school : and when he kept an evening school (as he did
while the length of the evenings would admit of it) he had
fifteen or twenty people, married and single.
The children learn with surprising readiness ; so that
their master tells me, he never had an English school that
learned, in general, comparably so fast. There were not
above two in thirty, although some of them were very
small, but what learned to know all the letters in the al
phabet distinctly, within three days after his entrance upon
nis business ; and divers in that space of time learned to
spell considerably : and some of them, since the beginning
of February last,* (at which time the school was set up,)
have learned so much, that they are able to read in a
Psalter or Testament, without spelling.
They are instructed twice a week in the Reverend As
sembly's Shorter Catechism, viz. on Wednesday and Sa
turday. Some of them, since the latter end of February,
(at which time they began,) have learned to say it pretty
distinctly by heart considerably more than half through ;
and most of them have made some proficiency in it.
They are likewise instructed in the duty of secret
prayer, and most of them constantly attend it night and
morning, and are very careful to inform their master if
they apprehend any of their little school-mates neglect
that religious exercise.

SECT. IV.
But little appearance of false religion.
It is worthy to be noted, fourthly, to the praise of sove
reign grace, that amidst so great a work of conviction — so
much concern and religious affection — there has been no
prevalency, nor indeed any considerable appearance, of
false religion, if I may so term it, or heats of imagination,
intemperate zeal, and spiritual pride ; which corrupt mix
tures too often attend the revival and powerful propagation
of religion ; and that there have been so very few instances
of irregular and scandalous behaviour among those who
have appeared serious. I may justly repeat what I ob
served in a remark at the conclusion of my last JournaI,+
viz. That there has been no appearance of " bodily ago
nies, convulsions, frightful screaming, swoonings," and the
like : and may now further add, that there has been no
prevalency of visions, trances, and imaginations of any
Kind ; although there has been some appearance of some
thing of that nature since the conclusion of that Journal.
An instance of which I have given an account of in my
Journal of December 26.
But this work qf grace has, in the main, been carried on
with a surprising degree of purity, and freedom from trash
and corrupt mixture. The religious concern that persons
have been under, has generally been rational and just ;
arising from a sense of their sins, and exposedness to the
divine displeasure on the account of them ; as well as
their utter inability to deliver themselves from the misery
they felt and feared. . And if there has been, in any in
stances, an appearance of irrational concern and perturbation
of mind, when the subjects of it knew not why, yet there
has been no prevalency of any such thing ; and indeed I
scarce know of any instance of that nature at all. — And it
is very remarkable, that although the concern of many per
sons under convictions of their perishing state has been
* In less than five months, vix. from Feb. 1, to June 19.
2 E 2

very great and pressing, yet I have never seen any thing
like desperation attending it in any one instance. They
have had the most lively sense of their undoneness in them
selves ; have been brought to give up all hopes of deliver
ance from themselves ; and their spiritual exercises leading
hereto, have been attended with great distress and anguish
of soui : and yet in the seasons of the greatest extremity,
there has been no appearance of despair in any of them,—
nothing that has discouraged, or in any wise hindered,
them from the most diligent use of all proper means for
their conversion and salvation ; whence it is apparent,
there is not that danger of persons being driven into despair
under spiritual trouble, (unless in cases of deep and habitual
melancholy,) that the world in general is ready to imagine.
The comfort that persons have obtained after their dis
tresses, has likewise in general appeared solid, well ground
ed, and scriptural ; arising from a spiritual and supernatural
illumination of mind, — a view of divine things in a mea
sure as they are, — a complacency of soul in the divine
perfections, — and a peculiar satisfaction in the way qf sal
vation by free sovereign grace in the great Redeemer.
Their joys have seemed to rise from a variety of views
and considerations of divine things, although for substance
the same. Some, who under conviction seemed to have
the hardest struggles and heart-risings against divine sove
reignty, have seemed, at the first dawn of their comfort, to
rejoice in a peculiar manner in that divine perfection, —
have been delighted to think that themselves, and all things
else, were in the hand of God, and that he would dispose
of them "just as he pleased."
Others, who just before their reception of comfort, have
been remarkably oppressed with a sense of their undone
ness and poverty, who have seen themselves, as it were,
falling down into remediless perdition, have been at first
more peculiarly delighted with a view of the freeness and
riches of divine grace, and the offer of salvation made to
perishing sinners " without money, and without price."
Some have at first appeared to rejoice especially in the
wisdom of God, discovered in the way of salvation by
Christ ; it then appearing to them " a new and living
way," a way they had never thought, nor had any just
conception of, until opened to them by the special influ
ence of the divine Spirit. And some of them, upon a
lively spiritual view of this way of salvation, have won
dered at their past folly in seeking salvation other ways,
and have admired that they never saw this way of salva
tion before, which now appeared so plain and easy, as well
as excellent to them.
Others again have had a more general view of the beauty
and excellency of Christ, and have had their souls de
lighted with an apprehension of his divine glory, as un
speakably exceeding all they had ever conceived of before ;
yet without singling out any one of the divine perfections
in particular ; so that although their comforts have seemed
to arise from a variety of views and considerations of di
vine glories, still they were spiritual and supernatural
views of them, and not groundless fancies, that were the
spring of their joys and comforts.
Yet it must be acknowledged, that when this work be
came so universal and prevalent, and gained such general
credit and esteem among the Indians, that Satan seemed
to have little advantage of working against it in his own
proper garb ; he then transformed himself " into an angel
of light," and made some vigorous attempts to introduce
turbulent commotions of the passions in the room of
genuine convictions of sin ; imaginary and fanciful notions
of Christ, as appearing to the mental eye in a human
shape, and being in some particular postures, &c. in the
room of spiritual and supernatural discoveries of his di
vine glory and excellency ; as well as divers other delu
sions. And I have reason to think, that if these things
had met with countenance and encouragement, there would
have been a very considerable harvest of this kind of con
verts here.
Spiritual pride also discovered itself in various instances.
Some persons who had been under great affections, seem
ed very desirous from thence of being thought truly
gracious ; who when I could not but express to them my
t That is, the Firs* Part of the Journal.

420

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. I.

fears respecting their spiritual states, discovered their re
sentments to a considerable degree upon that occasion.
There also appeared in one or two of them an unbecoming
ambition of being teachers of others. So that Satan has
been a busy adversary here, as well as elsewhere. But
blessed be God, though something of this nature has ap
peared, yet nothing of it has prevailed, nor indeed made
any considerable progress at all. My people are now ap
prised of these things, are made acquainted that Satan in
such a manner " transformed himself into an angel of
light," in the first season of the great outpouring of the
divine Spirit in the days of the apostles ; and that some
thing of this nature, in a greater or less degree, has attend
ed almost every revival and remarkable propagation of
true religion ever since. And they have learned so to dis
tinguish between the gold and dross, that the credit of the
latter " is trodden down like the mire of the streets :" and
it being natural for this kind of stuff to die with its credit,
there is now scarce any appearance of it among them.

And as there has been no prevalency of irregular heats,
imaginary notions, spiritual pride, ancf satanical delusions
among my people ; so there has been very few instances
of scandalous and irregular behaviour among those who have
made a profession or even an appearance of seriousness. I
do not know of more than three or four such persons that
have been guilty of any open misconduct since their first
acquaintance with Christianity, and not one that persists in
any thing of that nature. And perhaps the remarkable
purity of this work in the latter respect, its freedom from
frequent instances of scandal, is very much owing to its
purity in the former respect, its freedom from corrupt
mixtures of spiritual pride, wild-fire, and delusion, which
naturally lay a foundation for scandalous practices.
" May this blessed work in the power and purity of it
prevail among the poor Indians here, as well as spread
elsewhere, till their remotest tribes shall see the salva
tion of God ! Amen."*

SECOND APPENDIX

MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL

CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS
METHOD OF LEARNING THE INDIAN LANGUAGE, AND OF INSTRUCTING THE INDIANS ;

TOGETHER

WITH THE DIFFICULTIES WHICH LIE IN THE WAY OF THEIR CONVERSION.

INTRODUCTION.
1 should have concluded what I had at present to offer,
upon the affairs respecting my mission, with the preceding
account ofthe money collected and expended for the reli
gious interests of the Indians, but that I have not long
since received from the reverend president of the corres
pondents, the copy of a letter directed to him from the
Honourable Society for propagating Christian Knowledge,
dated at Edinburgh, March 21, 1745. Wherein I find it
is expressly enjoined upon their missionaries, " That they
* Money collected and expended for the Indians. — As mention has been
made in the preceding Journal, of an English school erected and continued
among these Indians, dependent entirely upon charity ; and as collections
have already been made in divers places for the support of it, as well as
for defraying other charges that have necessarily arisen in the promotion of
the religious interests of the Indians, it may be satisfactory, and perhaps
will be thought by some but a piece of justice to the world, that an exact
account be here jriven of the money already received by way of collection
for the benefitof the Indians, and the manner in which it has been ex
pended. The following is therefore a just account of this matter : —
Money received since October last, by way of public collection, for pro
moting the religious interests of the Indians in New Jersey, viz.
£ s. d.
23 10 2
3 0 0
I 5

From New York
Jamaica on Long Island
Elizabeth-townEliznbeth-town farms .
Newark WoodbridgeMorris-townFreehold
P'reehold Dutch congregation
Shrewsbury and Shark river
Middle-town Dutch congregation
Carried forward

1 18 9
4 5 7
2 IS 2
1 5 3
12 11 0
A 14 3
3 5 0
2 0 0

£66 13 2

give an exact account of the methods they make use of for
instructing themselves in the Indians' language, and what
progress they have already made in it. What methods
they are now taking to instruct the Indians in the principles
of our holy religion. And particularly that they set forth
in their Journals what difficulties they have already met
with, and the methods they make use of for surmounting
the same."
As to the two former of these particulars, I trust that
what I have already noted in my Journals from time to
time, might have been in a good measure satisfactory to
the Honourable Society, had these Journals arrived safely
£. s. d.
Brought forward . . . 66 13 2
The Dutch congregation in and about New
Brunswick . . . . , 3 5 0
Krng's-town . . . . 5 11 0
Neshaminy, and places adjacent in Pennsylvania 14 5 10
Abington and New Providence, by the hand of
the Reverend Mr. Treat . . 10 5 0

The whole amounting to

£100 0 0

Money paid out since October last for promoting the religious interests of
the Indians in New Jersey, viz.

Upon the occasion mentioned in my Journal
of January 28 .
For the building a School-house
To the schoolmaster as a part of his reward
for his present year's service
For books for the children to learn in
The whole amounting to .

82 5
3 5

17 10
3 0

£106 0 0

DAVID BRAINERD

Sect. 1.

METHOD OF LEARNING THE INDIAN LANGUAGE.

421

and seasonably, which I am sensible they have not in
general done, by reason of their falling into the hands of
the enemy, although I have been at the pains of sending
two copies of every Journal, for more than two years past,
lest one might miscarry in the passage. But with relation
to the latter of these particulars, I have purposely omitted
saying any thing considerable, and that for these two rea
sons. First, because I could not oftentimes give any
tolerable account of the difficulties I met with in my work,
without speaking somewhat particularly of the causes of
them, and the circumstances conducing to them, which
would necessarily have rendered my Journals very tedious.
Besides, some of the causes of my difficulties I thought
more fit to be concealed than divulged. And, secondly,
because I thought a frequent mentioning of the difficulties
attending my work, might appear as an unbecoming com
plaint under my burden ; or as if I would rather be thought
to be endowed with a singular measure of self-denial, con
stancy, and holy resolution, to meet and confront so many
difficulties, and yet to hold on and go forward amidst them
all. But since the Honourable Society are pleased to re
quire a more exact and particular account of these things, I
shall cheerfully endeavour something for their satisfaction
in relation to each of these particulars : although in regard
ofthe latter I am ready to say, Infandum—jubes renovare
dohrem.

SECT. I.
Method qf learning the Indian language.
The most successful method I have taken for instructing
myself in any ofthe Indian languages, is, to translate Eng
lish discourses by the help of an interpreter or two, into
their language as near verbatim as the sense will admit of,
and to observe strictly how they use words, and what con
struction they will bear in various cases ; and thus to gain
some acquaintance with the root from whence particular
words proceed, and to see how they are thence varied and
diversified. But here occurs a very great difficulty ; for
the interpreters being unlearned, and unacquainted with
the rules of language, it is impossible sometimes to know
by them what part of speech some particular word is of,
whether noun, verb, or participle ; for they seem to use
participles sometimes where we should use nouns, and
sometimes where we should use verbs in the English
language. But I have, notwithstanding many difficulties, gained
some acquaintance with the grounds of the Delaware
language, and have learned most of the defects in it ; so
that I know what English words can, and what cannot, be
translated into it. I have also gained some acquaintance
with the particular phraseologies, as well as peculiarities of
their language, one of which I cannot but mention. Their
language does not admit of their speaking any word
denoting relation, such as, father, son, &c. absolutely ; that
is, without prefixing a pronoun-passive to it, such as my,
thy, his, i}c. Hence they cannot be baptized in their own
language in the name of the Father, and the Son, &c. ; but
they may be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ and his
Father, Jkc. I have gained so much knowledge of their
language, that I can understand a considerable part of
what they say, when they discourse upon divine things,
and am frequently able to correct my interpreter, if he
mistakes my sense. But I can do nothing to any purpose
at speaking the language myself.
And as an apology for this defect, I must renew, or
rather enlarge, my former complaint, viz . That " while so
much of my time is necessarily consumed in journeying,"
while I am obliged to ride four thousand miles a year, (as I
have done in the year past,) " I can have little left for any
of my necessary studies, and consequently for the study
of the Indian languages." And this, I may venture to
say, is the great, if not the only, reason why the Delaware
language is not familiar tome before this time. And it is
impossible I should ever be able to speak it without close
application, which, at present, I see no prospect of having
time for. To preach and catechise frequently ; to converse
privately with persons that need so much instruction and

direction as these poor Indians do ; to take care of all their
secular affairs, as if they were a company of children ; to
ride abroad frequently in order to procure collections for
the support of the school, and for their help and benefit in
other respects ; to hear and decide all the petty differences
that arise among any of them ; and to have the constant
oversight and management of all their affairs of every kind,
must needs engross most of my time, and leave me little
for application to the study of the Indian languages. And
when I add to this, the time that is necessarily consumed
upon my Journals, I must say I have little to spare for
other business. I have not (as was observed before) sent
to the Honourable Society less than two copies of every
Journal, for more than two years past ; most of which, I
suppose, have been taken by the French in their passage.
And a third copy I have constantly kept by me, lest the-
others should miscarry. This has caused me not a little
labour, and so straitened me for time, when I have been
at liberty from other business, and had opportunity to sit
down to write, which is but rare, that I have been obliged
to write twelve and thirteen hours in a day ; till my spirits
have been extremely wasted, and my life almost spent, to
get these writings accomplished. And after all ; after dili
gent application to the various parts of my work, and after
(he most industrious improvement of time I am capable of,
both early and late, I cannot oftentimes possibly gain two
hours in a week for reading or any other studies, unless
just for what appears of absolute necessity/.)' the present.
And frequently when I attempt to redeem time, by spar
ing it out of my sleeping hours, I am by that means thrown
under bodily indisposition, and rendered fit for nothing. —
This is truiy my present state, and is like to be so, for
aught I can "see, unless I could procure an assistant in my
work, or quit my present business.
But although I have not made that proficiency I could
wish to have done, in learning the Indian languages ; yet I
have used all endeavours to instruct them in the English
tongue, which perhaps will be more advantageous to the
christian interest among them, than if I should preach in
their own language ; for that is very defective, (as I shall
hereafter observe,) so that many things cannot be commu
nicated to them without introducing English terms. Be
sides, they can have no books translated into their language,
without great difficulty and expense ; and if still accus
tomed to their own language only, they would have no
advantage of hearing other ministers occasionally, or in
my absence. So that my having a perfect acquaintance
with the Indian language would be of no great importance
with regard to this congregation of Indians in New Jersey,
although it might be of great service to me in treating with
the Indians elsewhere.

SECT. IT.
Method qf instructing the Indians.
The method I am taking to instruct the Indians in the
principles of our holy religion, are, to preach, or open and
improve some particular points of doctrine ; to expound
particular paragraphs, or sometimes whole chapters, of
God's word to them ; to give historical relations from
Scripture of the most material and remarkable occurrences
relating to the church of God from the beginning ; and
frequently to catechise them upon the principles of Chris
tianity. The latter of these methods of instructing I
manage in a twofold manner. I sometimes catechise sys
tematically, proposing questions agreeable to the Reverend
Assembly's Shorter Catechism. This I have carried io a
considerable length. At other limes I catechise upon any
important subject that I think difficult to them. Some
times when 1 have discoursed upon some particular point,
and made it as plain and familiar to them as I can, 1 then
catechise them upon the most material branches of my dis
course, to see whether they had a thorough understanding
of it. But as I have catechised chiefly in a systematical
form, I shall here give some specimen of the method I
make use of in it, as well as of the propriety and justness
of my people's answers to the questions proposed to them.

422

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. II.

Questions upon the benefits believers receive from Christ at
death.
Q. I have shown you, that the children of God receive
a great many good things from Christ while they live, now
have they any more to receive when they come to die ? —
A. Y'es.
Q. Are the children of God then made perfectly free
from sin '! — Yes.
Q. Do you think they will never more be troubled with
vain, foolish, and wicked thoughts ? — A. No, never at all.
Q. W ill not they then be like the good angels I have so
often told you of? — A. Yes.
Q. And do you call this a great mercy to be freed from
all sin ?— A. Yes.
Q. Do all God's children count it so ? — A. Yes, all of
them. Q. Do you think this is what they would ask for above
all things, if God should say to them, Ask what you will,
and it shall be done for you ?— A. O yes, besure, this is
what they want
Q. You say the souls of God's people at death are made
perfectly free from sin, where do they go then? — A. They
go and live with Jesus Christ.
Q. Does Christ show them more respect and honour,
and make thein more happy * than we can possibly think
of in this world ? — A. Yes.
Q. Do they go immediately to live with Christ in heaven,
as soon as their bodies are dead ? or do they tarry some
where else a while ? — A. They go immediately to Christ.
Q. Does Christ take any care of the bodies of his peo
ple when they are dead, and their souls gone to heaven, or
does he forget them? — A He takes care of them.
These questions were all answered with surprising readi
ness, and without once missing, as I remember. And in
answering several of them which respected deliverance from
sin, they were much affected, and melted with the hopes
of that happy state.

Questions upon the benefits believers receive from Christ at
the resurrection.
Q. You see I have already shown you what good things
Christ gives his good people while they live, and when
they come to die ; now, will he raise their bodies, and the
bodies of others, to life again at the last day? — A. Yes,
they shall all be raised.
Q. Shall they then have the same bodies they now
have ? — A. Yes.
Q. Will their bodies then be weak, will they feel cold,
hunger, thirst, and weariness, as they now do? — A. No,
none of these things.
Q. Will their bodies ever die any more after they are
raised to life ? — A. No.
Q. Will their souls and bodies be joined together
again? — A. Yes.
Q. Will God's people be more happy then, than they
were while their bodies were asleep ? — A. Yes.
Q. Will Christ then own these to be his people before
all the world ? — A. Yes.
Q. But God's people find so much sin in themselves,
that they are often ashamed of themselves, and will not
Christ be ashamed to own such for his friends at that day ?
— A. No, he never will be ashamed of them.
Q. Will Christ then show all the world, that he has put
away these people's sins,f and that he looks upon them as
if they had never sinned at all ? — A. Yes.
Q. Will he look upon them as if they had never sinned,
for the sake of any good things they have done themselves,
or for the sake of his righteousness accounted to them
as if it was theirs ? — A. For the sake of his righteousness
counted to them, not for their own goodness.
* The only way I have to express their " entering into glory," or being
glorified ; there being no word in the Indian language answering to that
general term.

Q. Will God's children then be as happy as they can
desire to be ? — Yes.
Q. The children of God while in this world, can but
now and then draw near to him, and they are ready to
think they can never have enough of God and Christ, but
will they have enough there, as much as they can desire ?
— A. O yes, enough, enough.
Q. Will the children of God love him then as much as
they desire, will they find nothing to hinder their love from
going to him ? — A. Nothing at all, they shall love him as
much as they desire.
Q. Will they never be weary of God and Christ, and
the pleasures of heaven, so as we are weary of our friends
and enjoyments here, after we have been pleased with
them awhile ? — A. No, never.
Q. Could God's people be happy if they knew God
loved them, and yet felt at the same time that they could
not love and honour him ? — A. No, no.
Q. Will this then make God's people perfectly happy,
to love God above all, to honour him continually, and to
feel his love to them ? — A. Yes.
Q. And will this happiness last for ever? — A. Yes, for
ever, for ever.
These questions, like the former, were answered without
hesitation or missing, as I remember, in any one instance.

Questions upon the duty which God requires of men.
Q. Has God let us know any thing of his will, or what
he would have us to do to please him ? — A. Yes.
Q. And does he require us to do his will, and to please
him ? — A. Yes.
Q. Is it right that God should require this of us, has he
any business to command us as a father does his children ?
—A. Yes.
Q. Why is it right that God should command us to do
what he pleases ? — A. Because he made us, and gives us
all our good things.
Q. Does God require us to do any thing that will hurt
us, and take away our comfort and happiness ? — A. No.
Q. But God requires sinners to repent and be sorry for
their sins, and to have their heaits broken ; now, does not
this hurt them, and take away their comfort, to be made
sorry, and to have their hearts broken? — A. No, it does
them good.
Q. Did God teach man his will at first by writing it
down in a book, or did he put it into his heart, and
teach him without a book what was right ? — A- He put
it into his heart, and made him know what he should do.
Q. Has God since that time writ down his will in a
book?— A. Yes.
Q. Has God written his whole will in his book ; has
he there told us all that he would have us believe and do ?
—A. Yes
Q. What need was there of this book, if God at first
put his will into the heart of man, and made him feel
what he should do ?• — A. There was need of it, because we
have sinned, and made our hearts blind.
Q. And has God writ down the same things in his
book, that he at first put into the heart of man? — A. Yes.
In this manner I endeavour to adapt my instructions to
the capacities of my people ; although they may perhaps
seem strange to others who have never experienced the
difficulty of the work. And these I have given an account
of, are the methods I am from time to time pursuing, in
order to instruct them in the principles of Christianity.
And I think I may say, it is my great concern that these
instructions be given them in such a manner, that they
may not only be doctrinally taught, but duty affected
thereby, that divine truths may come to them, " not in
word only, but in power, and in the Holy Ghost," and be
received " not as the word of man."
t The only way I have to express their being openly— acquitted. In
like manner, when I speak cf justification, I have no other way but to call
it God's looking upon us as good creatures.

Sect. III.

AVERSION OF THE INDIANS TO CHRISTIANITY.

423

SECT. III.
Difficulties attending the christianizing qf the Indians —
First difficulty, the rooted aversion to Christianity that
generally prevails among them.
I shall now attempt something with relation to the
last particular rermired by the Honourable Society in their
letter, viz. To give some account of the " difficulties I
have already met with in my work, and the methods I
make use of for surmounting the same." And, in the
first instance, first, I have met with great difficulty in my
work among these Indians, " from the rooted aversion to
Christianity that generally prevails among them." They
are not only brutishly stupid and ignorant of divine
things, but many of them are obstinately set against Chris
tianity, and seem to abhor even the christian name.
This aversion to Christianity arises partly from a view
of the " immorality and vicious behaviour of many who
are called Christians." They observe that horrid wicked
ness in nominal Christians, which the light of nature con
demns in themselves : and not having distinguishing views
of things, arc ready to look upon all the white people
alike, and to condemn them alike, for the abominable
practices of some. — Hence when I have attempted to treat
with them about Christianity, they have frequently objected
the scandalous practices of Christians. They have ob
served to me, that the white people lie, defraud, steal, and
drink worse than the Indians ; that they have taught the
Indians these things, especially the latter of them ; who
before the coming of tho English, knew of no such thing
as strong drink : that the English have, by these means,
made them quarrel and kill one another ; and, in a word,
brought them to the practice of all those vices that now
prevail among them. So that they are now vastly more
vicious, as well as much more miserable, than they were
before the coming of the white people into the country.—
These, and such like objections, they frequently make
against Christianity, which are not easily answered to
their satisfaction ; many of them being facts too notori
ously true.
The only way I have to take in order to surmount this
difficulty, is to distinguish between nominal and real Chris
tians ; and to show them, that the ill conduct of many of
the former proceeds not from their being Christians, but
from their being Christians only in name, not in heart, &c.
To which it has sometimes been objected, that if all those
who will cheat the Indians are Christians only in name,
there are but few left in the country to be Christians in
heart. This, and many other of the remarks they pass
upon the white people, and their miscarriages, I am forced
to own, and cannot but grant, that many nominal Chris
tians are more abominably wicked than the Indians. But
then I attempt to show them, that there are some who feel
the power of Christianity, and that these are not so. I ask
them, when they ever saw me guilty of the vices they
complain of, and charge Christians in general with ? But
still the great difficulty is, that the people who live back in
the country nearest to them, and the traders that go
among them, are generally of the most irreligious and
vicious sort ; and the conduct of one or two persons, be it
never so exemplary, is not sufficient to counterbalance the
vicious behaviour of so many of the same denomination,
and so to recommend Christianity to pagans.
Another thing that serves to make them more averse to
Christianity, is a " fear of being enslaved." They are,
perhaps, some of the most jealous people living, and
extremely averse to a state of servitude, and hence are
always afraid of some design forming against them.
Besides, they seem to have no sentiments of generosity,
benevolence, and goodness ; that if any thing be proposed
to them, as being for their good, they are ready rather to
suspect, that there is at bottom some design forming
against them, than that such proposals flow from good-will
to them, and a desire of their welfare. And hence, when
I have attempted to recommend Christianity to their
acceptance, they have sometimes objected, that the white
people have come among them, have cheated them out of
their lands, driven them back to the mountains, from the
pleasant places they used to enjoy by the sea-side &c. ;

that therefore they have no reason to think the white people
are now seeking their welfare ; but rather that they have
sent me out to draw them together, under a pretence ofkind-
ness to them, that they may have an opportunity to make
slaves of them, as they do of the poor negroes, or else to
ship them on board their vessels, and make them fight with
their enemies, &c. Thus they have oftentimes con
strued all the kindness I could show them, and the hard
ships I have endured in order to treat with them about
Christianity. " He never would (say they) take all this
pains to do us good, he must have some wicked design to
hurt us some way or other." And to give them assurance
of the contrary, is not an easy matter, while there are so
many who (agreeable to their apprehension) are only " seek
ing their own," not the good of others.
To remove this difficulty I inform them, that I am not
sent out among them by those persons in these provinces,
who they suppose have cheated them out of their lands ;
but by pious people at a great distance, who never had an
inch of their lands, nor ever thought of doing them any
hurt, &c.
But here will arise so many frivolous and impertinent
questions, that it would tire one's patience, and wear out
one's spirits to hear them ; such as, " But why did not
these good people send you to teach us before, while we had
our lands down by the sea-side, &c. If they had sent you
then, we should likely have heard you, and turned
Christians." The poor creatures still imagining, that I
should be much beholden to them, in case they would
hearken to Christianity ; and insinuating, that this was a
favour they could not now be so good as to show me,
seeing they had received so many injuries from the white
people. Another spring of aversion to Christianity in the Indians,
is, " their strong attachment to their own religious notions,
(if they may be called religious,) and the early prejudices
they have imbibed in favour of their own frantic and ridi
culous kind of worship." What their notions of God are,
in their pagan state, is hard precisely to determine. I
have taken much pains to inquire of my christian people,
whether they, before their acquaintance with Christianity,
imagined there was a plurality of great invisible powers,
or whether they supposed but one such being, and wor
shipped him in a variety of forms and shapes : but cannot
learn any thing of them so distinct as to be folly satisfying
upon tho point. Their notions in that state were so pro
digiously dark and confused, that they seemed not to
know what they thought themselves. But so far as I can
learn, they had a notion of a plurality of invisible deities,
and paid some kind of homage to them promiscuously,
under a great variety of forms and shapes. And it is certain,
that those who yet remain pagans pay some kind of
superstitious reverence to beasts, birds, fishes, and even
reptiles ; that is, some to one kind of animal, and some to
another. They do not indeed suppose a divine power
essential to, or inhering in, these creatures, but that some
invisible beings— I cannot learn that it is always one such
being only, but divers ; not distinguished from each other
by certain names, but only notionally — communicate to
those animals a great power (either one or other of them,
just as it happens, or perhaps sometimes all of them,) and
so make these creatures the immediate authors of good to
certain persons. Whence such a creature becomes sacred
to the persons to whom he is supposed to be the immediate
author of good, and through him they must worship the
invisible powers, though to others he is no more than
another creature. And perhaps another animal is looked
upon to be the immediate author of good to another, and
consequently he must worship the invisible powers in that
animal. And I have known a pagan burn fine tobacco
for incense, in order to appease the anger of that invisible
power which he supposed presided over rattle-snakes, be
cause one of these animals was killed by an other Indian
near his house.
But after the strictest inquiry respecting their notions of
the Deity, I find, that in ancient times, before the coming
of the white people, some supposed there were four in
visible powers, who presided over the four corners of the
earth. Others imagined the sun to be the only deity, and
that all things were made by him. Others, at the same

424

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. II.

time, have a confused notion of a certain body or fountain
of deity, somewhat like the anima mundi, so frequently
mentioned by the more learned ancient heathens, diffusing
itself to various animals, and even to inanimate things,
making them the immediate authors of good to certain
persons, as before observed, with respect to various sup
posed deities. But after the coming of the white people,
they seemed to suppose there were three deities, and three
only, because they saw people of three different kinds of
complexion, viz. English, Negroes, and themselves.
It is a notion pretty generally prevailing among them,
that it was not the same God made them, who made us ; but
that they were made after the white people : which further
shows, that they imagine a plurality of divine powers.
And I fancy they suppose their god gained some special
skill by seeing the white people made, and so made them
better: for it is certain they look upon themselves, and
their methods of living, (which, they say, their god ex
pressly prescribed for them,) vastly preferable to the white
people, and their methods. And hence will frequently sit
and laugh at them, as being good for nothing else but to
plough and fatigue themselves with hard labour ; while they
enjoy the satisfaction of stretching themselves on the ground,
and sleeping as much as they please ; and have no other
trouble but now and then to chase the deer, which is often
attended with pleasure rather than pain. Hence, by the
way, many of them look upon it as disgraceful for them
to become Christians, as it would be esteemed among
Christians for any to become pagans. And now although
they suppose our religion will do well enough for us, be
cause prescribed by our God, yet it is no ways proper for
them, because not of the same make and original. This
they have sometimes offered as a reason why they did not
incline to hearken to Christianity.
They seem to have some confused notion about a future
state of existence, and many of them imagine that the
chichung, (i. e. the shadow,) or what survives the body,
will at death go southward, and in an unknown but curious
place, will enjoy some kind of happiness, such as, hunting,
feasting, dancing, and the like. And what they suppose
will contribute much to their happiness in that state, is that
they shall never be weary of those entertainments. It
seems by this notion of their going southward to obtain
happiness, as if they had their course into these parts of
the world from some very cold climate, and found the
further they went southward the more comfortable they
were ; and thence concluded, that perfect felicity was to be
found further towards the same point.
They seem to have some faint and glimmering notion
about rewards and punishments, or at least happiness and
misery, in a future state, that is, some that I have conversed
with, though others seem to know of no such thing. Those
that suppose this, seem to imagine that most will be hap
py, and that those who are not so, will be punished only
with privation, being only excluded the walls of that good
world where happy souls shall dwell.
These rewards and punishments they suppose to depend
entirely upon their conduct with relation to the duties of
the second table, i. e. their behaviour towards mankind, and
seem, so far as I can see, not to imagine that they have
any reference to their religious notions or practices, or anv
thing that relates to the worship of God. I remember _
once consulted a very ancient but intelligent Indian upon
this point, for my own satisfaction ; and asked him whether
the Indians of old times had supposed there was any thing
of the man that would survive the body ? He replied, Yes.
I asked him, where thev supposed its abode would be ?
He replied, " It would go southward." I asked him
further, whether it would be happy there ? He answered,
after a consida-able pause, " that the souls of good folks
would be happy, and the souls of bad folks miserable."
I then asked him, who he called bad folks ? His answer
(as I remember) was, " Those who lie, steal, quarrel with
their neighbours, are unkind to their friends, and especially
to aged parents, and, in a word, such as are a plague to
mankind." These were his bad folks ; but not a word was
said about their neglect of divine worship, and their bad
ness in lhat respect.
They have indeed some kind of religious worship, are
frequently offering sacrifices to some supposed invisible

powers, and are very ready to impute their calamities in
the present world, to the neglect of these sacrifices; but
there is no appearance of reverence and devotion in the
homage they pay them ; and what they do of this nature,
seems to be done only to appease the supposed anger of
their deities, to engage them to be placable to themselves,
and do them no hurt, or at most, only to invite these powers
to succeed them in those enterprises they are engaged in
respecting the present life. So that in offering these sacri
fices, they seem to have no reference to a future state, but
only to present comfort. And this is tlie account my in
terpreter always gives me of this matter. " They sacrifice
(says he) that they may have success in hunting and other
affairs, and that sickness and other calamities may not befall
them, which they fear in the present world, in case of
neglect ; but they do not suppose God will ever punish
them in the coming world for neglecting to sacrifice," &c.
And indeed they seem to imagine, that those whom they
call bad folks, are excluded from the company of good
people in that state, not so much because God remembers,
and is determined to punish them for their sins of any kind,
either immediately against himself or their neighbour, as
because they would be a plague to society, and would
render others unhappy if admitted to dwell with them. So
that they are excluded rather of necessity, than by God
acting as a righteous judge.
They give much heedto dreams, because they suppose
these invisible powers give them directions at such times
about certain affairs, and sometimes inform them what
animal they would choose to be worshipped in. They are
likewise much attached to the traditions and fabulous
notions of their fathers, who have informed them of divers
miracles that were anciently wrought among the Indians,
which they firmly believe, and thence look upon their
ancestors to have been the best of men. They also men
tion some wonderful things which, they say, have happen
ed since the memory of some who are now living. One I
remember affirmed to me, that himself had once been dead
four days, that most of his friends in that time were
gathered together to his funeral, and that he should have
been buried, but that some of his relations at a great dis
tance, who were sent for upon that occasion, were not
arrived, before whose coming he came to life again. In
this time, he says, he went to the place where the sun rises,
(imagining the earth to be plain,) and directly over that
place, at a great height in the air, he was admitted, he says,
into a great house, which he supposes was several miles in
length, and saw many wonderful things, too tedious as
well as ridiculous to mention. Another person, a woman,
whom I have not seen, but been credibly informed of by
the Indians, declares, that she was dead several days, that
her soul went southward, and feasted and danced with the
happy spirits, and that she found all things exactly agree
able to the Indian notions of a future state.
These superstitious notions and traditions, and this kind
of ridiculous worship I have mentioned, they are extremely
attached to, and the prejudice they have imbibed in favour
of these things, renders them not a little averse to the
doctrines of Christianity. Some of them have told me,
when I have endeavoured to instruct them, " that their
fathers had taught them already, and that they did not
want to learn now."
It will be too tedious to give any considerable account
of the methods I make use of for surmounting this diffi
culty. I will just say, I endeavour, as much as possible,
to show them the inconsistency of their own notions, and
so to confound them out of their own mouths. But
I must also say, I have sometimes been almost nonplussed
with them, and scarce knew what to answer them : but
never have been more perplexed with them, than when
they have pretended to yield to me as knowing more than
they, and consequently have asked me numbers of im
pertinent, and yet difficult questions, as, " How the Indians
came first into this part of the world, away from all the
white people, if what I said was true," viz. that the same
God made them who made us ? " How the Indians be
came black, jf they had the same original parents with the
white people 1" And numbers more of the like nature. —
These things, I must say, have been not a little difficult
and discouraging, especially when withal some of the

Sect. III.

AVERSION OF THE INDIANS TO CHRISTIANITY.

425

Indians have appeared angry and malicious against
Christianity. What further contributes to their aversion to Christianity
is, the influence that their powows (conjurers or diviners)
have upon them. These are a sort of persons who are
supposed to have a power of foretelling future events, or
recovering the sick, at least oftentimes, and of charming,
enchanting, or poisoning persons to death by their magic
divinations. And their spirit, in its various operations,
seems to be a Satanical imitation of the spirit of prophecy
that the church in early ages was favoured with. Some of
these diviners are endowed with the spirit in infancy ; —
others in adult age. — It seems not to depend upon their
own will, nor to be acquired by any endeavours of the
person who is the subject of it, although it is supposed to
be given to children sometimes in consequence of some
means the parents use with them for that purpose ; one of
which is to make the child swallow a small living frog,
after having performed some superstitious rites and cere
monies upon it. They are not under the influence of this
spirit always alike,— hut it comes upon them at times.
And those who are endowed with it, are accounted singular
ly favoured.
I have laboured to gain some acquaintance with this
affair of their conjuration, and have for that end consulted
and queried with the man mentioned in my Journal of
May 9, who, since his conversion to Christianity, has en
deavoured to give me the best intelligence he could of this
matter. But it seems to be such a mystery of iniquity,
that I cannot well understand it, and do not know often
times what ideas to affix to the terms he makes use of;
and, so far as I can learn, he himself has not any clear
notions of the thing, now his spirit of divination is gone
from him. However, the manner in which he says he
obtained this spirit of divination was this; he was admitted
into the presence of a great man, who informed him, that
he loved, pitied, and desired to do him good. It was not
in this world that he saw the great man, but in a world
above at a vast distance from this. The great man, he
says, was clothed with the day ; yea, with the brightest
day he ever saw ; a day of many years, yea, of everlasting
continuance ! this whole world, he says, was drawn upon
him, so that in him, the earth, and all things in it, might
be seen. I asked him, if rocks, mountains, and seas were
drawn upon, or appeared in him ? He replied, that every
thing that was beautiful and lovely in the earth was upon
him, and might be seen by looking on him, as well as if
one was on the earth to take a view of them there. By
the side of the great man, he says, stood his shadow or
spirit ; for he used (chichung) the word they commonly
use to express that of the man which survives the body,
which word properly signifies a shadow. This shadow, he
says, was as lovely as the man himself, and filled all places,
and was most agreeable as well as wonderful to him. — Here,
he says, he tarried some time, and was unspeakably enter-
tained'and delighted with a view of the great man, of his
shadow or spirit, and of all things in him. And what is
most of all astonishing, he imagines all this to have passed
before he was born. He never had been, he says, in this
world at that time. And what confirms him in the belief
of this, is, that the great man told him, that he must come
down to earth, be born of such a woman, meet with such
and such things, and in particular, that he should once in
his life be guilty of murder. At this he was displeased,
and told the great man, he would never murder. But the
great man replied, " I have said it, and it shall be so."
Which has accordingly happened. At this time, he says,
the great man asked him what he would choose in life.
He replied, First to be a hunter, and afterwards to be a
powow or diviner. Whereupon the great man toUJ him,
he should have what he desired, and that his shadow
should go along with him down to earth, and be with him
for ever. There was, he says, all this time no words spoken
between them. The conference was not carried on by any
human language, but they had a kind of mental intelli
gence of each other's thoughts, dispositions, and proposals.
After this, he says, he saw the great man no more ; but
supposes he now came down to earth to be born, but the
spirit or shadow of the great man still attended him, and
ever after continued to appear to him in dreams and other

ways, until he felt the power of God's word upon his
heart ; since which it has entirely left him.
This spirit, he says, used sometimes to direct him in
dreams to go to such a place and hunt, assuring him he
should there meet with success, which accordingly proved
so. And when he had been there some time, the spirit
would order him to another place. So that he had suc
cess in hunting, according to the great man's promise made
to him at the time of his choosing this employment.
There were some times when this spirit came upon him
in a special manner, and he was full of what he saw in the
great man ; and then, he says, he was all light, and not
only light himself, but it was light all around him, so that
he could see through men, and knew the thoughts of their
hearts, &c. These depths qf Satan I leave to others to
fathom or to dive into as they please, and do not pretend,
for my own part, to know what ideas to affix to such
terms, and cannot we'll guess what conceptions of things
these creatures have at these times when they call them
selves all light. But my interpreter tells me, that he
heard one of them tell a certain Indian the secret thoughts
of his heart, which he had never divulged. The case was
this, the Indian was bitten with a snake, and was in ex
treme pain with the bite. Whereupon the diviner (who
was applied to for his recovery) told him, that at such a
time he had promised, that the next deer he killed, he
would sacrifice it to some great power, but had broken his
promise. And now, said he, that great power has ordered
this snake to bite you for vour neglect. The Indian con
fessed it was so, but said he had never told any body of
it. But as Satan, no doubt, excited the Indian to make
that promise, it was no wonder he should be able to com
municate the matter to the conjurer.
These things serve to fix them down in their idolatry,
and to make them believe there is no safety to be expected,
but by their continuing to offer such sacrifices- And the
influence that these powows have upon them, either
through the esteem or fear they have of them, is no small
hinderance to their embracing "Christianity.
To remove this difficulty, I have laboured to show the
Indians, that these diviners have no power to recover the
sick, when the God whom Christians serve, has determined
them for death ; and that the supposed great power who
influences these diviners has himself no power in this
case : and that if they seem to recover any by their magic
charms, they are only such as the God I preached to them,
had determined should recover, and who would have re
covered without their conjurations, &c. And when I
have apprehended them afraid of embracing Christianity,
lest they should be enchanted and poisoned, I have en
deavoured to relieve their minds of this fear, by asking
them, Why their powows did not enchant and poison me,
seeing they had as much reason to hate me for preaching
to and desiring them to become Christians, as they could
have to hate them in case they should actually become
such? And that they might have an evidence of the
power and goodness of God engaged for the protection of
Christians, I ventured to bid a challenge to all their pow
ows and great powers to do their worst on me first of all,
and thus laboured to tread down their influence.
Many things further might be offered upon this head,
but thus much may suffice for a representation of their
aversion to and prejudice against Christianity, the springs
of it, and the difficulties thence arising.

SECT. IV.
Second difficulty in converting the Indians, viz. To convey
divine truths to their understanding, and to gain their
assent.Another great difficulty I have met with in my at
tempts to christianize the Indians, has been to " convey
divine truths to their understandings, and to gain their
assent to them as such."
In the first place, I laboured under a very great disad
vantage for want of an interpreter, who had a good degree
of doctrinal as well as experimental knowledge of divine
things : in both which respects my present interpreter was

426

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Append. II.

very defective when I first employed him, as I noted in
the account I before gave of him. And it was sometimes
extremely discouraging to me, when I could not make
him understand what I designed to communicate ; when
truths of the last importance appeared foolishness to him
for want of a spiritual understanding and relish of them ;
and when he addressed the Indians in a lifeless indifferent
manner, without any heart-engagement or fervency ; and
especially when he appeared heartless and irresolute about
making attempts for the conversion of the Indians to
Christianity, as he frequently did. For although he had a
desire that they should conform to christian manners, (as I
elsewhere observed,) yet being abundantly acquainted
with their strong attachments to their own superstitious
notions, and the difficulty of bringing them off, and having
no sense of divine power and grace, nor dependence upon
an Almighty arm for the accomplishment of this work,
he used to be discouraged, and tell me, " It signifies
nothing for us to try, they will never turn," &c. So that
he was a distressing weight and burden to me. And here
I should have sunk, scores of times, but that God in a re
markable manner supported me ; sometimes by giving me
full satisfaction that he himself had called me to this work,
and thence a secret hope that sometime or other I might
meet with success in it ; or if not, that " my judgment
should notwithstanding be with the Lord, and my work
with my God." Sometimes by giving me a sense of his
almighty power, and that " his hand was not shortened."
Sometimes by affording me a fresh and lively view of
some remarkable freedom and assistance I had been re
peatedly favoured with in prayer for the ingathering of
these heathens some years before, even before I was a
missionary, and a refreshing sense of the stability and
faithfulness of the divine promises, and that the prayer qf
faith should not fail. Thus I was supported under these
trials, and the method God was pleased to take for the
removal of this difficulty, (respecting my interpreter,) I
have sufficiently represented elsewhere.
Another thing that rendered it very difficult to convey
divine truths to the understandings of the Indians, was the
defect of their language, the want of terms to express and
convey ideas of spiritual things. Tliere are no words in
the Indian language to answer our English words, " Lord,
Saviour, salvation, sinner, justice, condemnation, faith,
repentance, justification, adoption, sanctification, grace,
glory, heaven," with scores of the like impoi'tance.
The only methods I can make use of for surmounting
this difficulty, are, either to describe the things at large
designed bv these terms, as, if I was speaking of regenera
tion, to call it the "heart's being changed" by God's
Spirit, or the " heart's being made good." Or else I must
introduce the English terms into their language, and fix
the precise meaning of them, that they may know what I
intend whenever I use them.
But what renders it much more difficult to convey di
vine truths to the understandings of these Indians, is, that
" there seems to be no foundation in their minds to begin
upon ;" I mean no truths that may be taken for granted,
as being already known, while I am attempting to instil
others. And divine truths having such a necessary con
nexion with, and dependence upon, each other, I find it
extremely difficult in my first addresses to pagans to be
gin and discourse of them in their proper order and con
nexion, without having reference to truths not yet known,
— without taking for granted such things as need first to
be taught and proved. There is no point of christian
doctrine but what they are either wholly ignorant of, or
extremely confused in their notions about. And there
fore it is necessary they should be instructed in every
truth, even in those that are the most easy and obvious
to the understanding, and which a person educated under
gospel-light would be ready to pass over in silence, as not
imagining that any rational creature could be ignorant of.
The method I have usually taken in my first addresses
to pagans, has been to introduce myself by saying, that I
was come among them with a desire and design of teach
ing them some things which I presumed they did not
know, and which I trusted would be for their comfort
and happiness if known ; desiring they would give their
attention, and hoping they might meet with satisfaction in

my discourse. And thence have proceeded to observe,
that there are two things belonging to every man, which I
call the soul and body. These I endeavour to distinguish
from each other, by observing to them, that there is some
thing in them that is capable of joy and pleasure, when
their bodies are sick and much pained : and, on the con
trary, that they find something within them that is fearful,
sorrowful, ashamed, &c. and consequently very uneasy,
when their bodies are in perfect health. I then observed
to them, that this which rejoices in them (perhaps at the
sight of some friend who has been long absent) when
their bodies are sick and in pain, — this which is sorrowful,
frighted, ashamed, &c. and consequently uneasy, when
their bodies are perfectly at ease, — this I call the soul. And
although it cannot be seen like the other part of the man,
viz. the body, yet it is as real as their thoughts, desires,
&c. which are likewise things that cannot be seen.
I then further observe, that this part of the man which
thinks, rejoices, grieves, &c. will live after the body is
dead. For the proof of this, I produce the opinion of
their fathers, who (as I am told by very aged Indians now
living) always supposed there was something of the man
that would survive the body. And if I can, for the proof
of any thing I assert, say, as St. Paul to the Athenians,
" As certain also of your own sages have said," it is suf
ficient. And having established this point, I next ob
serve, that what I have to say to them, respects the con
scious part of the man ; and that with relation to its state
after the death of the body ; and that I am not come to
treat with them about the things that concern the present
world. This method I am obliged to take, because they will
otherwise entirely mistake the design of my preaching,
and suppose the business I am upon, is something that re
lates to the present world, having never been called toge
ther by the white people upon any other occasion, but
only to be treated with about the sale of lands, or some
other secular business. And I find it almost impossible
to prevent their imagining that I am engaged in the same,
or such like affairs, and to beat it into them, that my con
cern is to treat with them about their invisible part, and
that with relation to its future state.
But having thus opened the way, by distinguishing be
tween soul and body, and showing the immortality of the
former, and that my business is to treat with them in order
to their happiness in a future state ; I proceed to dis
course of the being and perfections of God, particularly of
his " eternity, unity, self-sufficiency, infinite wisdom, and
almighty power." It is necessary, in the first place, to
teach them, that God is from everlasting, and so distin
guished from all creatures ; though it is very difficult to
communicate any thing of that nature to them, they hav
ing no terms in their language to signify an eternity a parte
ante. It is likewise necessary to discourse of the divine
unity, in order to confute the notions they seem to have of
a plurality of gods. The divine all-sufficiency must also
necessarily be mentioned, in order to prevent their ima
gining that God was unhappy while alone, before the
formation of his creatures. And something respecting the
divine wisdom and power seems necessary to be insisted
upon, in order to make way for discoursing of God's
works. Having offered some things upon the divine perfections
mentioned, I proceed to open the work of creation in ge
neral, and in particular God's creation of man in a state of
uprightness and happiness, placing them in a garden of
pleasure ; the means and manner of their apostacy from
that state, and loss of that happiness. But before I can
give a relation of their fall from God, I am obliged to
make a large digression, in order to give an account ofthe
original and circumstances of their tempter, his capacity
of assuming the shape of a serpent, from his being a spirit
without a body, &c. Whence I go on to show, the ruins
of our fallen state, the mental blindness and vicious dis
positions our first parents then contracted to themselves,
and propagated to all their posterity ; the numerous cala
mities brought upon them and theirs by this apostacy from
God, and the exposedness of the whole human race to
eternal perdition. And thence labour to show them the
necessity of an almighty Saviour to deliver us from this

Sect. IV.

DIFFICULTY OF GAINING THEIR ASSENT.

427

deplorable state, as well as of a divine revelation to instruct
us in, and direct us agreeable to, the will of God.
And thus the way, by such an introductory discourse,
is prepared for opening the gospel-scheme of salvation
through the great Redeemer, and for treating of those doc
trines that immediately relate to the soul's renovation by
the divine Spirit, and preparation for a state of everlasting
blessedness. In giving such a relation of things to pagans, it is not
a little difficult, as observed before, to deliver truths
in their proper order, without interfering, and without
taking for granted things not as yet known ; to discourse
of them in a familiar manner suited to the capacities of
heathens ; to illustrate them by easy and natural simili
tudes ; to obviate or answer the objections they are dis
posed to make against the several particulars of it, as well
as to take notice of and confute their contrary notions.
What has sometimes been very discouraging in my first
discourses to them, is, that when I have distinguished be
tween the present and future state, and shown them that
it was my business to treat of those things that concern
the life to come, they have mocked, and looked upon
these things of no importance ; have scarce had a cu
riosity to hear, and perhaps walked off before I had half
done my discourse. And in such a case no impressions
can be made upon their minds to gain their attention.
They are not awed by hearing of the anger of God en
gaged against sinners, of everlasting punishment as the
portion of gospel-negleeters. They are not allured by
hearing of the blessedness of those who embrace and obey
the gospel. So that to gain their attention to my dis
courses, has often been as difficult as to give them a just
notion of the design of them, or to open truths in their
proper order.
Another difficulty naturally falling under the head I am
now upon, is, that " it is next to impossible to bring them
to a rational conviction that they are sinners by nature,
and that their hearts are corrupt and sinful," unless one
could charge them with some gross acts of immorality,
such as the light of nature condemns. If they can be
charged with behaviour contrary to the commands of the
second table, — with manifest abuses of their neighbour,
they will generally own such actions to be wrong ; but
then they seem as if they thought only the actions were
sinful, and not their hearts. But if they cannot be charged
with such scandalous actions, they seem to have no con
sciousness of sin and guilt at all, as I had occasion to ob
serve in my Journal of March 24. So that it is very dif
ficult to convince them rationally of lhat which is readily
acknowledged (though, alas ! rarely felt) in the christian
world, viz. " That we are all sinners."
The method I take to convince them " we are sinners by
nature," is, to lead them to an observation of their little
children, how they will appear in a rage, fight and strike
their mothers, before they are able to speak or walk, while
they are so young that it is plain they are incapable of
learning such practices. And the light of nature in the
Indians condemning such behaviour in children towards
their parents, they must own these tempers and actions to
be wrong and sinful. And the children having never
learned these things, they must have been in their natures,
and consequently they must be allowed to be " by nature
the children of wrath." -The same I observe to them with
respect to the sin of lying, which their children seem much
inclined to. They tell lies without being taught so to do,
from their own natural inclination, as well as against re
straints, and after corrections for that vice, which proves
them sinners by nature, &c.
And further, in order to show them their hearts are all
corrupted and sinful, I observe to them, that this may be
the case, and they not be sensible of it through the blindness
of their minds. That it is no evidence they are not sinful,
because they do not know and feel it. I then mention all
the vices I know the Indians to be guilty of, and so make
use of these sinful streams to convince them the fountain
is corrupt. And this is the end for which I mention their
wicked practices to them, not because I expect to bring
them to an effectual reformation merely by inveighing
against their immoralities ; but hoping they may hereby
be convinced of the corruption of their hearts, and awa

kened to a sense of the depravity and misery of their
fallen state.
And for the same purpose, viz. " to convince them they
are sinners," I sometimes open to them the great command
of " loving God with all the heart, strength, and mind ;"
show them the reasonableness of loving him who has made,
preserved, and dealt bountifully with us : and then labour
to show them their utter neglect in this regard, and that
they have been so far from loving God in this manner,
that, on the contrary, he has not been " in all their
thoughts." These, and such like, are the means I have made use
of in order to remove this difficulty ; but if it be asked
after all, " How it was surmounted 1" I must answer,
God himself was pleased to do it with regard to a number
of these Indians, by taking his work into his own hand,
and making them feel at heart, that they were both sinful
and miserable. And in the day of God's power, whatever
was spoken to them from God s word, served to convince
them they were sinners, (even the most melting invitations
of the gospel,) and to fill them with solicitude to obtain a
deliverance from that deplorable state.
Further, it is extremely difficult to give them any just
notion of the undertaking of Christ in behalf of sinners ;
of his obeying and suffering in their room and stead, in
order to atone for their sins, and procure their salvation ;
and of their being justified by his righteousness imputed
to them.— They are in general wholly unacquainted with
civil laws and proceedings, and know of no such tiling as
one person being substituted as a surety in the room of
another, nor have any kind of notion of civil judicatures,
of persons being arraigned, tried, judged, condemned, or
acquitted. And hence it is very difficult to treat with
them upon any thing of this nature, or that bears any rela
tion to legal procedures. And although they cannot but
have some deabngs with the white people, in order to
procure clothing and other necessaries of life, yet it is
scarce ever known that any one pays a penny for another,
but each one stands for himself. Yet this is a thing that
may be supposed, though seldom practised among them,
and they may be made to understand, that if a friend of
theirs pay a debt for them, it is right that upon that con
sideration they themselves should be discharged.
And this is the only way I can take in order to give
them a proper notion of the undertaking and satisfaction qf
Christ in behalf of sinners. But here naturally" arise two
questions. First, " What need there was of Christ's
obeying and suffering for us ; why God would not look
upon us to be good creatures (to use my common phrase
for justification) on account of our own good deeds f" In
answer to which I sometimes observe, that a child being
never so orderly and obedient to its parents to-day, does
by no means satisfy for its contrary behaviour yesterday ;
and that if it be loving and obedient at some times only,
and at other times cross and disobedient, it never can be
looked upon a good child for its own doings, since it
ought to have behaved in an obedient manner always.
This simile strikes their minds in an easy and forcible
manner, and serves, in a measure, to illustrate the point.
For the light qf nature, as before hinted, teaches them,
that their children ought to be obedient to them, and that
at all times ; and some of them are very severe with them
for the contrary behaviour. This I apply in the plainest
manner to our behaviour towards God ; and so show
them, that it is impossible for us, since we have sinned
against God, to be justified before him by our own doings,
since present and future goodness, although perfect and
constant, could never satisfy for past misconduct.'
A second question, is, " If our debt was so great, and if
we all deserved to suffer, how one person's suffering was
sufficient to answer for the whole?" Here I have no
better way to illustrate the infinite value of Christ's obe
dience and sufferings, arising from the dignity and excel
lency of his person, than to show them the superior value
of gold to that of baser metals, and that a small quantity
of this will discharge a greater debt, than a vast quantity
of the common copper pence. But after all, it is extremely
difficult to treat with them upon this great doctrine of
" justification by imputed righteousness." I scarce know
how to conclude this head, so many things occurring that

428

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. II.

might properly be added here ; but what has been men
tioned, may serve for a specimen of the difficulty of con
veying divine truths to the understandings of these In
dians, and of gaining their assent to them as such.

SECT. V.
A third difficulty in converting the Indians, viz. Their in
convenient situations, savage manners, and unhappy me
thod qf living.
Their" inconvenientsituations, savage manners, and un
happy method of living," have been an unspeakable diffi
culty and discouragement to me in my work.— They
generally live in the wilderness, and some that I have
visited, at great distances from the English settlements.
This has obliged me to travel much, oftentimes over hide
ous rocks, mountains, and swamps, and frequently to lie
out in the open woods, which deprived me ofthe common
comforts of life, and greatly impaired my health.
When I have got among them in the wilderness, I have
often met with great difficulty in my attempts to discourse
to them. — I have sometimes spent hours with them in
attempting to answer their objections, and remove their
jealousies, before I could prevail upon them to give me a
hearing upon Christianity. I have been often obliged to
preach in their houses in cold and windy weather, when
they have been full of smoke and cinders, as well as un
speakably filthy ; which has many times thrown me into
violent sick head-aches.
While I have been preaching, their children have fre
quently cried to such a degree, that I could scarcely be
heard, and their pagan mothers would take no manner of
care to quiet them. At the same time, perhaps, some
have been laughing and mocking at divine truths. Others
playing with their dogs, whittleing sticks, and the like.
And this, in many of them, not from spite and prejudice,
but for want of better manners.
A view of these things has been not a little sinking and
discouraging to me. It has sometimes so far prevailed
upon me as to render me entirely dispirited, and wholly
unable to go on with my work ; and given me such a
melancholy turn of mind, that I have many times thought
I could never more address an Indian upon religious
matters. The solitary manner in which I have generally been
obliged to live, on account of their inconvenient situation,
has been not a little pressing. I have spent the greater
part of my time, for more than three years past, entirely
alone, as to any agreeable society ; and a very considerable
part of it in houses by myself, without having the company
of any human creature. Sometimes 1 have scarcely seen
an Englishman for a month or six weeks together ; and
have had my spirits so depressed with melancholy views
of the tempers and conduct of pagans, when I have been
for some time confined with them, that I have felt as if
banished from all the people of God.
I have likewise been wholly alone in my work, there
being no other missionary among the Indians in either of
these provinces. And other ministers neither knowing the
peculiar difficulties, nor most advantageous methods of
performing my work, have been capable to afford me little
assistance or support in any respect. — A feeling of the
great disadvantages of being alone in this work, nas dis
covered to me the wisdom and goodness of the great
Head of the church, in sending forth his disciples two and
two, in order to proclaim the sacred mysteries of his king
dom ; and has made me long for a adlengue to be a
partner of my cares, hopes, and fears, as well as labours
amongst the Indians ; and excited to use some means in
order to procure such an assistant, although I have not as
yet been so happy as to meet with success in that respect.
I have not only met with great difficulty in travelling
to, and for some time residing among, the Indians far re
mote in the wilderness, but also in living with them, in
one place and another, more statedly. I have been obliged
to remove my residence from place to place ; having pro
cured, and after some poor fashion, furnished, three houses
for living among them, in the space of about three years

past. One at Kaunaumeek, about twenty miles distant
from the city of Albany ; one at the Forks qf Delaware,
in Pennsylvania; and one at Crossweeksung, in New
Jersey. And the Indians in the latter of these provinces,
with whom I have lately spent most of my time, being
not long since removed from the place where they lived last
winter, (the reason of which I mentioned in my Journal
of March 24, and May 4,) I have now no house at all of
my own, but am obliged to lodge with an English family
at a considerable distance from them, to the great disad
vantage of my work among them ; they being like chil
dren that continually need advice and direction, as well as
incitement to their worldly business. — The houses I have
formerly lived in are at great distances from each other ;
the two" nearest of them being more than seventy miles
apart, and neither of them within fifteen miles of the place
where the Indians now live.
The Indians are a very poor and indigent people, and so
destitute of the comforts of life, at some seasons of the
year especially, that it is impossible for a person who has
any pity to them, and concern for the Christian interest,
to live among them without considerable expense, espe
cially in time of sickness. If any thing be bestowed on
one, (as in some cases it is peculiarly necessary, in order
to remove tlieir pagan jealousies, and engage their friend
ship to Christianity,) others, be there never so many of
them,' expect the same treatment. And while they retain
their pagan tempers, they discover little gratitude, amidst
all the kindnesses they receive. If they make any presents,
they expect double satisfaction. And Christianity itself
does not at once cure them of these ungrateful tempers.
They are in general unspeakably indolent and slothful.
They have been bred up in idleness, and know little about
cultivating land, or indeed of engaging vigorously in any
other business. So that I am obliged to instruct them in,
as well as press them to, the performance of their work, and
take the oversight of all their secular business. They have
little or no ambition or resolution. Not one in a thousand
of them has the spirit of a man. And it is next to impos
sible to make them sensible of the duty and importance of
being active, diligent, and industrious in the management
of their worldly business ; and to excite in them any spirit
and promptitude of that nature. When I have laboured
to the utmost of my ability to show them of what import
ance it would be to the Christian interest among them, as
well as to their worldly comfort, for them to be laborious
and prudent in their business, and to furnish themselves
with the comforts of life ; how this would incline the
pagans to come among them, and so put them under the
means of salvation— how it would encourage religious
persons of the white people to help them, as well as stop
the mouths of others that were disposed to cavil against
them ; how they might by this means pay others their just
dues, and so prevent trouble from coming upon themselves,
and reproach upon their christian profession — they have
indeed assented to all I said, but been little movid, and
consequently have acted like themselves, or at least too
much so. Though it must be acknowledged, that those
who apnear to have a sense of divine things, are consider
ably amended in this respect, and it is to be hoped, that
time will make a yet greater alteration upon them for the
better. The concern I have had for the settling of these Indians
in New Jersey in a compact form, in order to their being
a christian congregation, in a capacity of enjoying the
means of grace ; the care of managing their worldly busi
ness in order to this end, and to their having a comfortable
livelihood ; have been more pressing to my mind, and cost
me more labour and fatigue, for several months past, than
all my other work among them.
Their " wandering to and fro in order to procure the
necessaries of life," is another difficulty that attends my
work. This has often deprived me of opportunities to
discourse to them ; and it has thrown them in the way of
temptation ; either among pagans further remote where
they have gone to hunt, who have laughed at them for
hearkening to Christianity ; or, among white people more
horribly wicked, who have often made them drunk, and
then got their commodities — such as skins, baskets, brooms,
shovels, and the like, with which they designed to have

Sect. VI.

THE DESIGNS OF EVIL-MINDED PERSONS.

429

bought corn, and other necessaries of life, for themselves
and families — for, it may be, nothing but a little strong
liquor, and then sent them home empty. So that for
the labour perhaps of several weeks, they have got nothing
but the satisfaction of being drunk once ; and have not
only lost their labour, but, which is infinitely worse, the
impressions of some divine subjects that were made upon
their minds . before. — But I forbear enlarging upon this
head. The few hints I have given may be sufficient to
give thinking persons some apprehensions ofthe difficulties
"attending my work, on account of the inconvenient situa
tions and savage manners of the Indians, as well as of their
unhappy method qf living.

SECT. VI.
Fourth difficulty in converting the Indians, viz. The de
signs of evil-minded persons to hinder the work.
The last difficulty I shall mention, as having attended
my work, is " what has proceeded from the attempts that
some ill-minded persons have designedly made, to hinder
the propagation of the gospel, and a work of divine grace,
among the Indians."— The Indians are not only of them
selves prejudiced against Christianity, on the various ac
counts I have already mentioned, but, as if this was not
enough, there are some in all parts of the country where I
have preached to them, who have taken pains industriously
to bind them down in pagan darkness ; " neglecting to
enter into the kingdom of God themselves, and labouring
to hinder others." _
After the beginning of the religious concern among the
Indians in New Jersey, some endeavoured to prejudice
them against me and the truths I taught them, by the most
sneaking, unmanly, and false suggestions of things that
had no manner of foundation but in their own brains.
Some particulars of this kind I formerly took notice of in
one ofthe remarks made upon my Journal concluded the
20th of November last ; and might have added more, and
of another nature, had not modesty forbidden me to men
tion what was too obscene. But, through the mercy of God,
they were never able, by all their abominable insinuations,
flouting jeers, and downright lies, to create in the Indians
those jealousies they desired to possess them with, and so
were never suffered to hinder tne work of grace among
them. — But when they saw they could not prejudice the
Indians against me, nor hinder them from receiving the
gospel, they then noised it through the country, that I was
undoubtedly a Roman catholic, and that I was gathering
together, and training up, the Indians in order to serve a
popish interest, that I should quickly head them, and cut
people's throats.
What they pretended gave them reason for this opinion,
was, that they understood I had a commission from Scot
land. Whereupon thev could with great assurance say,
" All Scotland is turned to the Pretender, and this is but a
popish plot to make a party for him here," &c. And
some, I am informed, actually went to the civil authority
with complaints against me, but only laboured under this
unhappiness, that when they came, they had nothing to
complain of, and could give no colour of reason why they
attempted any such thing, or desired the civil authority
to take cognizance of me, having not a word to allege
against my preaching or practice, only they surmised that be
cause the Indians appeared so very loving and orderly,
they had a design of imposing upon people by that means,
and so of getting a better advantage to cut their throats.
And what temper they would have had the Indians appear
with, in order to have given no occasion, nor have left any
room for such a suspicion, I cannot tell. I presume if
they had appeared with the contrary temper, it would
quickly have been observed of them, that " they were now
grown surly," and in all probability were preparing to
"cut people's throats." — From a view of these things, I
have had occasion to admire the wisdom and goodness of
God in providing so full and authentic a commission for
the undertaking and carrying on of this work, without
which, notwithstanding the charitableness of the design, it
had probably met with molestation.

The Indians who have been my hearers in New Jersey,
have likewise been sued for debt, and threatened with im
prisonment, more since I came among them, as they inform
me, than in seven years before. The reason of this, I sup
pose, was, they left frequenting those tippling houses where
they used to consume most of what they gained by hunting
and other means. And these persons, seeing that the
hope of future gain was lost, were resolved to make sure
of what they could. And perhaps some of them put the
Indians to trouble, purely out of spite at their embracing
Christianity. This conduct of theirs has been very distressing to me ;
for I was sensible, that if they did imprison any one that
embraced or hearkened to Christianity, the news of it
would quickly spread among the pagans, hundreds of miles
distant, who would immediately conclude I had involved
them in this difficulty; and thence be filled with prejudice
against Christianity, and strengthened in their jealousy,
that the whole of my design among them, was to insnare
and enslave them. And f knew that some of the Indians
upon Susquehannah had made this objection against hear
ing me preach, viz. That they understood a number of
Indians in Maryland, some hundreds of miles distant,
who had been uncommonly free with the English, were
after a while put in jail, sold, &c. Whereupon they con
cluded, it was best for them to keep at a distance, and
have nothing to do with Christians. — The method I took
in order to remove this difficulty, was, to press the Indians
with all possible speed to pay their debts, and to exhort
those of them that had skins or money, and were them
selves in a good measure free of debt, to help others that
were oppressed. And frequently upon such occasions I
have paid money out of my own pocket, which I have
not as yet received again.
These are some of the difficulties I have met with from
the conduct of those who, notwithstanding their actions so
much tend to hinder the propagation of Christianity,
would, I suppose, be loth to be reputed pagans. Thus I
have endeavoured to answer the demands of the Honour
able Society in relation to each of the particulars mentioned
in their letter. — If what I have written may be in any
measure agreeable and satisfactory to them, and serve to
excite in them, or any of God's people, a spirit of prayer
and supplication for the furtherance of a work of grace
among the Indians here, and the propagation of it to
their distant tribes, I shall have abundant reason to rejoice,
and bless God in this, as well as in other respects.
DAVID BRAINERD.
June 20, 1746.
P. S. Since the conclusion of the preceding Journal —
which was designed to represent the operations of one year
only, from the first time of my preaching to the Indians
in New Jersey — I administered the sacrament of the
Lord's supper a second time in my congregation, viz. on
the 13th of July. At which time there were more than
thirty communicants of the Indians, although divers were
absent who should have communicated : so considerably
has God enlarged our number since the former solemnity
of this kind, described somewhat particularly in my
Journal. This appeared to be a season of divine power
and grace, not unlike the former ; a season of refreshing
to God's people in general, and of awakening to some
others, although the divine influence manifestly attending
the several services of the solemnity, seemed not so great
and powerful as at the former season. D. BRAINERD.

SECT. VII.
Attestations of divine grace displayed among the Indians.

first attestation.

Since my dear and reverend brother Brainerd has at
length consented to the publication of his Journal, I
gladly embrace this opportunity of testifying, that our al-

430

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. II.

together glorious Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ has given
such a display of his almighty power and sovereign grace,
not only in the external reformation, but (in a judgment
of charity) the saving conversion of a considerable number
of Indians, that it is really wonderful to all beholders !
though some, alas ! notwithstanding sufficient grounds of
conviction to the contrary, do join with the devil, that
avowed enemy of God and man, in endeavouring to pre
vent this glorious work, by such ways and means as are
mentioned in the aforesaid Journal, to which I must refer
the reader for a faithful, though very brief, account of the
time when, the place where, the means by which, and
manner how, this wished-for work has been begun and
carried on, by the great Head of the church. — And this I
can more confidently do, not only because I am intimately
acquainted with the author of the Journal, but on account
of my own personal knowledge of the matters of fact re
corded in it respecting the work itself. — As I live not far
from the Indians, I nave been much conversant with
them, both at their own place, and in my own parish,
where they generally convene for public worship in Mr.
Brainerd's absence ; and I think it my duty to acknow
ledge, that their conversation hath often, under God, re
freshed my soul.
To conclude ; it is my opinion, that the change wrought
in those savages, namely, from the darkness of paganism,
to the knowledge of the pure gospel of Christ ; from
sacrificing to devils, to "present themselves, body and
soul, „ living sacrifice to God," and that not only from
the persuasion of their minister, but from a clear heart-
affecting sense of its being their reasonable service : this
change, I say, is so great, that none could effect it but he
" who worketh all things after the good pleasure of his
own will." And I would humbly hope, that this is only
the first-fruits of a much greater harvest to be brought in
from among the Indians, by him, who has promised to
give his Son " the heathen for his inheritance, and the
uttermost parts of the earth for his possession ; "—who
hath also declared, " That the whole earth shall be filled
with the knowledge of the Lord, as tlie waters cover the
sea. — Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen and
Amen." I am, courteous reader,
thy soul's well-wisher,
Freehold, WILLIAM TENNENT.
August 16, 1746.,
SECOND ATTESTATION.
As it must needs afford a sacred pleasure to such as
cordially desire the prosperity and advancement of the Re
deemer's kingdom and interest in the world, to hear, that
our merciful and gracious God is in very deed fulfilling
such precious promises as relate to the poor heathen, by
sending his everlasting gospel among them, which, with
concurrence of his Holy Spirit, is removing that worse than
Egyptian darkness, whereby the God of this world has long
held them in willing subjection; so this narrative will
perhaps be more acceptable to the world, when it is con
firmed by the testimony of such as were either eye-witness
of this glorious dawn of gospel-light among the benighted
pagans, or personally acquainted with those of them, in
whom, in a judgment.of charity, a gracious change has
been wrought. Therefore I the more willingly join with
iny brethren, Mr. Wm. Tennent and Mr. Brainerd, in affix
ing my attestation to the foregoing narrative ; and look
upon myself as concerned in point of duty both to God
and his people to do so, by reason that I live contiguous
to their settlement, and have had frequent opportunities of
being present at their religious meetings, where I have, with
pleasing wonder, beheld what I am strongly inclined to
believe were the effects of God's almighty power accom
panying his own truths ; more especially on the 8th day of
August, 1745. While the word of God was preached by
Mr. Brainerd, there appeared an uncommon solemnity

among the Indians in general ; but I am wholly unable to
give a full representation of the surprising effects of God's
almighty power that appeared among them when public
service was over. WhJe Mr. Brainerd urged upon some
of them the absolute necessity of a speedy closure with
Christ, the Holy Spirit seemed to be poured out upon
them in a plenteous measure, insomuch as the Indians pre
sent in the wigwam seemed to be brought to the jailer's
case, Acts xvi. 30. utterly unable to conceal the distress and
perplexity of their souls ; this prompted the pious among
them to bring the dispersed congregation together, who soon
seemed to be in the greatest extremity. Some were earnest
ly begging for mercy, under a solemn sense of their perish
ing condition, while others were unable to arise from the
earth, to the great wonder of those white people that were
present, one of whom is by this means, I trust, savingly
brought to Christ since. Nay, so very extraordinary was
the concern that appeared among the poor Indians in
general, that I am ready to conclude, it might have been
sufficient to have convinced an atheist, that the Lord was
indeed in the place. I am, for my part, fully persuaded,
that this glorious work is true and genuine, whilst with
satisfaction I behold several of these Indians discovering
all the symptoms of inward lioliness in their lives and con
versation. I have had the satisfaction of joining with them
in their service on the 11th of August, 1746, which was a
day set apart for imploring the divine blessing on the
labours of their minister among other tribes of the Indians
at Susquehannah, in all which they conducted themselves
with a very decent and becoming gravity ; and, as far as I
am capable of judging, they may be proposed as examples
of piety and godliness to all the white people around
them, which indeed is justly " marvellous in our eyes,"
especially considering what they lately had been. — O may
the glorious God shortly bring about that desirable time,
when our exalted Immanuel shall have " the heathen given
for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for
his possession !"
CHARLES MACNIGHT.
Crosswicks,
August 29, 1746.

THIRD ATTESTATION.
We whose names are underwritten, being elders and
deacons of the presbyterian church in Freehold, do hereby
testify, that in our humble opinion, God, even our Saviour,
has brought a considerable number of the Indians in these
parts to a saving union with himself. — This we are per
suaded of, from a personal acquaintance with them, whom
we not only hear speak of the great doctrines of the gospel
with humility, affection, and understanding, but we see
them walk, as far as man can judge, soberly, righteously,
and godly. We have joined with them at the Lord's sup
per, and do from our hearts esteem them as our brethren
in Jesus. For " these who were not God's people, may
now be called the children of the living God : it is the
Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes." O that he
may go on " conquering and to conquer," until he has
subdued all things to himself! This is and shall be the
unfeigned desires and prayers of

Walter Ker,
Robert Cummins,
David Rhe,
John Henderson,
John Anderson,
Joseph Ker,
William Ker,
Samuel Ker,
Samuel Craig,

Elders.

Deacons.

Presbyterian Church,
Freehold, Aug. 16, 1746.

THIRD APPENDIX

MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL :
CONTAINING BIS
BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE ENDEAVOURS USED BY THE MISSIONARIES
OF THE
SOCIETY IN SCOTLAND FOR PROPAGATING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,
TO INTRODUCE THE GOSPEL AMONG THE INDIANS ON THE BORDERS OF NEW YORK, &c.

The deplorable, perishing state of the Indians in these
parts of America, being by several ministers here repre
sented to the Society in Scotland for propagating Christian
Knowledge ; the said Society charitably and cheerfully
came into the proposal of maintaining two missionaries
among these miserable pagans, to endeavour their conver-
sion " from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan
unto God ;" and sent their commission to some ministers
and other gentlemen here, to act as their correspondents, in
providing, directing, and inspecting the said mission.
As soon as the correspondents were authorized by the
Society's commission, they immediately looked out for
two candidates of the evangelical ministry, whose zeal for
the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom, and whose com
passion for poor perishing souls, would prompt them to
such an exceeding difficult and self-denying undertaking.
They first prevailed with Mr. Azariah Horton to relinquish
a call to an encouraging parish, and to devote himself to
the Indian service. He was directed to Long Island, in
August 1741, at the east end whereof there are two small
towns of the Indians, and from the east to the west end of
the island, lesser companies settled at a few miles' distance
from one another, for the length of above a hundred miles.
— At his first coming among these, he was well received
by the most, and heartily welcomed by some of them.
They at the east end of the island, especially, gave dili
gent and serious attention to his instructions, and many of
them put upon solemn inquiries about " what they should
do to be saved." A general reformation of manners was
soon observable among the most of these Indians. They
were careful to attend, and serious and solemn in attend
ance, upon both public and private instructions. A num
ber of them were under very deep convictions of their
miserable perishing state ; and about twenty of them give
lasting evidences of their saving conversion to God. Mr.
Horton has baptized thirty-five adults, and forty-four chil
dren. He took pains with them to teach them to read ;
and some of them have made considerable proficiency.
But the extensiveness of his charge, and the necessity of
his travelling from place to place, makes him incapable of
giving so constant attendance to their instruction in reading
as is needful. In his last letter to the correspondents, he
heavily complains of a great defection of some of them,
from their first reformation and care of their souls ; occa
sioned by strong drink being brought among them, and
their being thereby allured to a relapse into their darling
vice of drunkenness. This is a vice to which the Indians
are every where so greatly addicted, and so vehemently
disposed, that nothing but the power of divine grace can
restrain that impetuous lust, when they have opportunity
to gratify it. He likewise complains, that some of them
are grown more careless and remiss in the duties of reli

gious worship, than they were when first acquainted with
the great things of their eternal peace. But as a number
retain their first impressions, and as they generally attend
with reverence upon his ministry, he goes on in his work,
with encouraging hopes of the presence and blessing of
God with him in his difficult undertaking.
This is a general view of the state of the mission upon
Long Island, collected from several of Mr. Horton's let
ters ; which is all that could now be offered, we not having
as yet a particular account from Mr. Horton himself. — It
was some time after Mr. Horton was employed in the
Indian service, before the correspondents could obtain
another qualified candidate for this self-denying mission.
At length they prevailed with Mr. David Brainerd, to re
fuse several invitations unto places where he had a pro- .
mising prospect of a comfortable settlement among the
English, to encounter the fatigues and perils that must at
tend his carrying the gospel of Christ to these poor miser
able savages. A. general representation of whose conduct
and success in that undertaking is contained in a letter we
lately received from himself, which is as follows :

TO THE REV. MR. EBENEZER PEMBERTON-

Since you are pleased to require of me some brief and
general account of my conduct in the affair of my mission
amongst the Indians ; the pains and endeavours I have
used to propagate christian knowledge among them ; the
difficulties 1 have met with in pursuance of that great
work ; and the hopeful and encouraging appearances I
have observed in any of them ; I shall now endeavour to
answer your demands, by giving a brief and faithful ac
count of the most material things relating to that important
affair, with which I have been and am still concerned.
And this I shall do with more freedom and cheerfulness,
both because I apprehend it will be a likely means to give
pious persons, who are concerned for the kingdom of
Christ, some just apprehension of the many and great dif
ficulties that attend the propagation of it amongst the poor
pagans, and consequently, it is hoped, will engage their
more frequent and fervent prayers to God, that those may be
succeeded who are employed in this'arduous work. Beside,
I persuade myself, that the tidings of the gospel spreading
among the poor heathen, will be, to those who are waiting
for the accomplishment of the " glorious things spoken of
the city of our God," as " good news from a far country ;"
and that these will be so far from " despising the day of
small things," that, on the contrary, the least dawn of en
couragement and hope, in this important affair, will rather
inspire their pious breasts with more generous and warm

432

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. HI.

desires, that " the kingdoms of this world may speedily be
come the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ." — I "shall
therefore immediately proceed to the business before me,
and briefly touch upon the most important matters that
have concerned my mission, from the beginning to this
present time.
On March 15, 1743, I waited on the correspondents
for the Indian mission at New York ; and the week fol
lowing, attended their meeting at Woodbridge in New
Jersey, and was speedily dismissed by them with orders to
attempt the instruction of a number of Indians in a place
some miles distant from the city of Albany. And on the
first day of April following, I arrived among the Indians,
at a place called by them Kaunaumeek, in the county of
Albany, near about twenty miles distant from the city east
ward. The place, as to its situation, was sufficiently lonesome
and unpleasant, being encompassed with mountains and
woods; twenty miles distant from any English inhabit
ants; six or seven from any Dutch ; and more than two
from a family that came, some time since, from the High
lands of Scotland, and had then lived, as I remember,
about two years in this wilderness. In this family I lodged
about the space of three months, the master of it being the
only person with whom I could readily converse in those
parts, except my interpreter ; others understanding very lit
tle English.
After I had spent about three months in this situation, I
found my distance from the Indians a very great disadvan
tage to my work among them, and very burdensome to
myself; as I was obliged to travel forward and backward
almost daily on foot, having no pasture in which I could
keep my horse for that purpose. And after all my pains,
could not be with the Indians in the evening and morning,
which were usually the best hours to find them at home,
and when they could best attend my instructions. — I there
fore resolved to remove, and live with or near the Indians,
that I might watch all opportunities, when they were
generally at home, and take the advantage of such seasons
for their instruction.
Accordingly I removed soon after; and, for a time, lived
with them in one of their wigwams ; and, not long after,
built me a small house, where I spent the remainder of
that year entirely alone ; my interpreter, who was an In
dian, choosing rather to live in a wigwam among his own
countrymen. — This way of living I found attended with
many difficulties, and uncomfortable circumstances, in a
place where I could get none of the necessaries and com
mon comforts of life, (no, not so much as a morsel of bread,)
but what I brought from places fifteen and twenty miles
distant, and oftentimes was obliged, for some time toge
ther, to content myself without, for want of an opportunity
to procure the things I needed.
But although the difficulties of this solitary way of liv
ing are not the least, or most inconsiderable, (and doubtless
are in fact many more and greater to those who experience,
than they can readily appear to those, who only view them
at a distance,) yet I can truly say, that the burden I felt
respecting my great work among the poor Indians, the
fear and concern that continually hung tipon mv spirits,
lest they should be prejudiced against Christianity, and
their minds imbittered against me, and my labours among
them, by means of the insinuations of some who, although
they are called christians, seem to have no concern for
Christ's kingdom, but had rather (as their conduct plainly
discovers) that the Indians should remain heathens, that
they may with the more ease cheat, and so enrich them
selves by them, — were much more pressing to me, than all
the difficulties that attended the circumstances of my living.
As to the state or temper of mind, in which I found these
Indians, at my first coming among them, I may justly say,
it was much more desirable and encouraging than what
appears among those who are altogether uncultivated.
Their heathenish jealousies and suspicion, and their preju
dices against Christianity, were in a great measure re
moved by the long-continued labours of the Reverend Mr.
Sargeant among a number of the same tribe, in a place
Httle more than twenty miles distant. Hence these were,
in some good degree, prepared to entertain the truths of
Christianity, instead of objecting against them, and appear

ing almost entirely untractable, as is common with them
at first, and as perhaps these appeared a few years ago.
Some of them, at least, appeared very well disposed to
ward religion, and seemed much pleased with my coming
among them.
In my labours with them, in order " to turn them from
darkness to light," I studied what was most plain and easy,
and best suited to their capacities ; and endeavoured to
set before them from time to time, as they were able to
receive them, the most important and necessary truths of
Christianity; such as most immediately concerned their
speedy conversion to God, and such as I judged had the
greatest tendency, as means, to effect that glorious change
in them. But especially I made it the scope and drift of
all my labours, to lead them into a thorough acquaintance
with these two things. — First, The sinfulness and misery
of the estate they were naturally in ; the evil of their
hearts, the pollution of their natures ; the heavy guilt they
were under, and their exposedness to everlasting punish
ment; as also their utter inability to save themselves, either
from their sins, or from those miseries which are the just
punishment of them ; and their unworthiness of any mercy
at the hand of God, on account of any thing they them
selves could do to procure his favour, and consequently
their extreme need of Christ to save them.  And, se
condly, I frequently endeavoured to open to them the ful
ness, all-sufficiency, and freeness of that redemption, which
the Son of God has wrought out by his obedience and suf
ferings, for perishing sinners : how this provision he had
made, was suited to all their wants ; and how he called
and invited them to accept of everlasting life freely, not
withstanding all their sinfulness, inability, unworthi
ness, &c.
After I had been with the Indians several months, I
composed sundry forms of prayer, adapted to their cir
cumstances and capacities ; which, with the help of my
interpreter, I translated into the Indian language ; and
soon learned to pronounce tlieir words, so as to pray with
them in their own tongue. I also translated sundry psalms
into their language, and soon after we were able to sing in
the worship of God.
When my people had gained some acquaintance with
many of the truths of Christianity, so that they were capa
ble of receiving and understanding many others, which at
first could not be taught them, by reason of their ignor
ance of those that were necessary to be previously known,
and upon which others depended ; I then gave them an
historical account of God's dealings with his ancient pro
fessing people the Jews ; some of the rites and ceremonies
they were obliged to observe, as their sacrifices, &c. ; and
what these were designed to represent to them : as also
some of the surprising miracles God wrought for their sal
vation, while they trusted in him, and the sore punishments
he sometimes brought upon them, when they forsook and
sinned against him. Afterwards I proceeded to give them
a relation of the birth, life, miracles, sufferings, death,
and resurrection of Christ ; as well as his ascension, and
the wonderful effusion of the Holy Spirit consequent there
upon. And having thus endeavoured to prepare the way by
such a general account of things, I next proceeded to read
and expound to them the Gospel of St. Matthew Cat least
the substance of it) in course, wherein they had a more
distinct and particular view of what they had before some
general notion. — These expositions I attended almost every1
evening, when there was any considerable number of them
at home ; except when I was obliged to be absent myself,
in order to learn the Indian language with the Rev. Mr.
Sargeant.-  Besides these means of instruction, there was
likewise an English school constantly kept by my inter
preter among the Indians ; which I used frequently to
visit, in order to give the children and young people some
proper instructions, and serious exhortations suited to
their age.
The degree of knowledge to which some of them at
tained, was considerable. Many of the truths of Christi
anity seemed fixed in their minds, especially in some
instances, so that they would speak to me of them, and
ask such questions about them, as were necessary to render
them more plain and clear to their understandings. — The

A SHORT ACCOUNT OF MISSIONS.

433

children, also, and young people, who attended the school,
made considerable ' proficiency (at least some of them) in
their learning ; so that had they understood the English
language well, they would have been able to read some
what readily in a psalter.
But that which was most of all desirable, and gave me
the greatest encouragement amidst many difficulties and
disconsolate hours, was, that the truths of God's word
seemed, at times, to be attended with some power upon
the hearts and consciences of the Indians. And especially
this appeared evident in a few instances, who were awak
ened to some sense of their miserable estate by nature, and
appeared solicitous for deliverance from it. Several of
them came, of their own accord, to discourse with me
about their souls' concerns ; and some with tears, inquired
" what they should do to be saved ? " and whether the
God that Christians served, would be merciful to those
that had been frequently drunk ? Sec.
And although I cannot say that I have satisfactory evi
dences of their being " renewed in the spirit of their mind,"
and savingly converted to God ; yet the Spirit of God did,
I apprehend, in such a manner attend the means of grace,
and so operate upon their minds thereby, as might justly
afford matter of encouragement to hope, that God designed
good to them, and that he was preparing his way into their
souls. There likewise appeared a reformation in the lives and
manners of the Indians. — Their idolatrous sacrifices (of
which there was but one or two, that I know of, after my
coming among them) were wholly laid aside. And their
heathenish custom of dancing, hallooing, rye. they seemed
in a considerable measure to have abandoned. And I
could not but hope, that they were reformed in some mea
sure from the sin of drunkenness. They likewise mani
fested a regard to the Lord's day ; and not only behaved
soberly themselves, but took care also to keep their chil
dren in order.
Yet, after all, I must confess, that as there were many
hopeful appearances among them, so there were some
things more discouraging. And while I rejoiced to observe
any seriousness and concern among them about the affairs
of their souls, still I was not without continual fear and
concern, lest such encouraging appearances might prove
" like a morning-cloud, that passeth away."
When I had spent near a year with the Indians, I in
formed them that I expected to leave them in the spring
then approaching, and to be sent to another tribe of Indi
ans, at a great distance from them. On hearing this, they
appeared very sorrowful, and some of them endeavoured
to persuade me to continue with them ; urging that they
had now heard so much about their souls' concerns, that
they could never more be willing to live as they had done,
without a minister, and further instructions in the way to
heaven, &c. Whereupon I told them, they ought to be
willing that others also should hear about their souls' con
cerns, seeing those needed it as much as themselves. Yet
further to dissuade me from going, they added, that those
Indians, to whom I had thoughts of going, (as they had
heard,) were not willing to become Christians as they were,
and therefore urged me to tarry with them. 1 then told
them, that they might receive further instructions without
me ; but the Indians, to whom I expected to be sent,
could not, there being no minister near to teach them.
And hereupon I advised them, in case I should leave them,
and be sent elsewhere, to remove to Stockbridge, where
they might be supplied with land, and conveniencies of
living, and be under the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Sargeant :
with which advice and proposal they seemed disposed to
comply. On April 6, 1744, I was ordered and directed by the
correspondents for the Indian mission, to take leave of the
people, with whom I had then spent a full year, and lo go,
as soon as conveniently I could, to a tribe of Indians on
Delaware river in Pennsylvania.
These orders I soon attended, and on April 29th took
leave of my people, who were mostly removed to Stock-
bridge under the care of the Rev. Mr. Sargeant. I then
set out on my journey toward Delaware ; and on May
10th met with a number of Indians in a place called
Minnissinks, about a hundred and forty miles from Kau-
VOL. II. 2 F

naumeek, (the place where I spent the last year,) and di
rectly in my way to Delaware river. With these Indians
I spent some time, and first addressed their king in a
friendly manner; and after some discourse, and attempts
to contract a friendship with him, I told him I had a de
sire (for his benefit and happiness) to instruct them in
Christianity. At which he laughed, turned his back upon
me, and went away. I then addressed another principal
man in the same manner, who said he was willing to hear
me. After some time, I followed the king into his house,
and renewed my discourse to him : but he declined talk
ing, and left the affair to another, who appeared to be a
rational man. He began, and talked verv warmly near a
quarter of an hour together : he inquired why I desired
the Indians to become Christians, seeing the Christians
were so much worse than the Indians are in their present
state. The Christians, he said, would lie, steal, and drink,
worse than the Indians. It was they first taught the
Indians to be drunk : and they stole from one another, to
that degree, that their rulers were obliged to hang them
for it, and that was not sufficient to deter others from the
like practice. But the Indians, he added, were none of
them ever hanged for stealing, and yet they did not steal
half so much ; and he supposed that if the Indians should
become Christians, they would then be as bad as these.
And hereupon he said, they would live as their fathers
lived, and go where their fathers were when they died. I
then freely owned, lamented, and joined with him in con
demning the ill conduct of some who are called Christians:
told him, these were not Christians in heart ; that I hated
such wicked practices, and did not desire the Indians to
become such as these. — And when he appeared calmer, I
asked him if he was willing that I should come and see
them again ? He replied, he should be willing to see me
again, as a friend, if I would not desire them to become
Christians.— 1 then bid them farewell, and prosecuted my
journey toward Delaware. And May 13th I arrived at a
place called by the Indians Sakhauwotung, within the
Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania.
Here also, when I came to the Indians, I saluted their
king, and others, in a manner I thought most engaging.
And soon after informed the king of my desire to instruct
them in the christian religion. After he had consulted a
few minutes with two or three old men, he told me he was
willing to hear. I then preached to those few that were
present; who appeared very aitentive, and well disposed.
And the king in particular seemed both to wonder, and at
the same time to be well pleased with what I taught them,
respecting the Divine Being, fkc. And since that time he
has ever shown himself friendly to me, giving me free
liberty to preach in his house, whenever I think fit  Here
therefore I have spent the greater part of the summer past,
preaching usually in the king's house.
The number of Indians in this place is but small ; most
of those that formerly belonged here, are dispersed, and
removed to places farther back in the country. There are
not more than ten houses hereabouts, that continue to be
inhabited ; and some of these are several miles distant
from others, which makes it difficult for the Indians to
meet together so frequently as could be desired.
When I first began to preach here, the number of my
hearers was very small ; often not exceeding twenty or
twenty-five persons : but towards the latter part of the
summer, their number increased, so that I have frequently
had forty persons, or more, at once ; and oftentimes most
belonging to those parts came together to hear me preach.
The effects which the truths of God's word have had
upon some of the Indians, in this place, are somewhat
encouraging. Sundry of them are brought to renounce
idolatry, and to decline partaking of those feasts which they
used to offer in sacrifice to certain supposed unknown
powers. And some few among them have, for a consider
able time, manifested a serious concern for their souls'
eternal welfare, and still continue to " inquire the way to
Zion," with such diligence, affection, and becoming solici
tude, as gives me reason to hope, that " God, who, I trust,
has begun this work in them," will carry it, on, until it
shall issue in their saving conversion to himself. These
not only detest their old idolatrous notions, but strive also
to bring their friends off from them. And as they are

434

BRAINERD'S JOURNAL.

Append. III.

seeking salvation for their own souls, so they seem desir
ous, and some of them take pains, that others might be
excited to do the like.
In July last I heard of a number of Indians residing at
a place called Kauksesauchung, more than thirty miles
westward from the place where I usually preach. I visited
them, found about thirty persons, and proposed my desire
of preaching to them; they readily complied, and I preach
ed to them only twice, they being just then removing
from this place, where they only lived for the present, to
Susquehannah river where they belonged.
While I was preaching they appeared sober and atten
tive ; and were somewhat surprised, having never before
heard of these things. There were two or three who sus
pected that I had some ill design upon them ; and urged,
that the white people had abused them, and taken their
lands from them, and therefore they had no reason to think
that they were now concerned for their happiness ; but, on
the contrary, that they designed to make them slaves, or
get them on board their vessels, and make them fight with
the people over the water, (as they expressed it,) mean
ing the French and Spaniards. However, the most of them
appeared very friendly, and told me, they were then going
directly home to Susquehannah, and desired 1 would make
them a visit there, and manifested a considerable desire of
farther instruction.— This invitation gave me some encou
ragement in my great work ; and made me hope, that God
designed to " open an effectual door to me" for spreading
the gospel among the poor heathen farther westward.
In the beginning of October last, with the advice and
direction of the correspondents for the Indian mission, I
undertook a journey to Susquehannah. And after three
days' tedious travel, two of them through a wilderness al
most unpassable, by reason of mountains and rocks, and
two nights lodging in the open wilderness, I came to an
Indian settlement on the side of Susquehannah-river, called
Opeholhaupung ; where were twelve Indian houses, and
(as nigh as 1 could learn) about seventy souls, old and
young, belonging to them.
Here also, soon after my arrival, I visited the king, ad
dressing him with expressions of kindness ; and after a few
words of friendship, informed him of my desire to teach
them the knowledge of Christianity. He hesitated not
long before he told me, that he was willing to hear. I
then preached ; and continued there several days, preach
ing every day, as long as the Indians were at home. And
they, in order to hear me, deferred the design of their general
hunting (which they were just then entering upon) for the
space of three or four days.
The men, I think universally (except one) attended my
preaching. Only the women, supposing the affair we were
upon was of a public nature, belonging only to the men,
and not what every individual person should concern him
self with, could not readily be persuaded to come and hear :
but, after much pains used with them for that purpose,
some few ventured to come, and stand at a distance.
When I had preached to the Indians several times, some
of them very frankly proposed what they had to object
against Christianity ; and so gave me a fair opportunity
for using my best endeavours to remove from their minds
those scruples and jealousies they laboured under : and
when I had endeavoured to answer their objections, some
appeared much satisfied. I then asked the king if he was
willing I should visit and preach to them again, if I should
live to the next spring ? He replied, he should be heartily
willing for his own part, and added, he wished the young
people v/ould learn, &c. I then put the same question to
the rest : some answered, they should be very glad, and
none manifested any dislike to it.
There were sundry other things in their behaviour, which
appeared with a comfortable and encouraging aspect;
that, upon the whole, I could not but rejoice I had taken
that journey among them, although it was attended with
many difficulties and hardships. The method I used
with them, and the instructions I gave them, I am per
suaded were means, in some measure, to remove their
heathenish jealousies, and prejudices against Christianity ;
and I could not but hope, the God of all grace was prepar
ing their minds to receive " the truth as it is in Jesus."
If this may be the happy consequence, I shall not only

rejoice in my past labours and fatigues ; but shall, I trust,
also " be willing to spend and be spent," if I may thereby
be instrumental " to turn them from darkness to light,
and from the power of Satan to God."
Thus, Sir, I have given you a faithful account of what
has been most considerable respecting my mission among
the Indians ; in which I have studied all convenient-
brevity. I shall only now take leave to add a word or
two respecting the difficulties that attend the christianiz
ing of these poor pagans.
In the first place, their minds are filled with prejudices
against Christianity, on account of the vicious lives and
unchristian behaviour of some that are called Christians.
These not only set before them the worst examples, but
some of them take pains, expressly in words, to dissuade
them from becoming Christians ; foreseeing, that if these
should be converted to God, " the hope of their unlawful
gain" would thereby be lost.
Again, these poor heathens are extremely attached to
the customs, traditions, and fabulous notions of their
fathers. And this one seems to be the foundation of all
their other notions, viz. that " it was not the same God
made them who made the white people," but another,
who commanded them to live by hunting, &c. and not
conform to the customs of the white people. — Hence when
they are desired to become Christians, they frequently
reply, that " they will live as their fathers lived, and go
to their fathers when they die." And if the miracles of
Christ and his apostles be mentioned, to prove the truth of
Christianity ; they also mention sundry miracles, which
their fathers have told them were anciently wrought among
the Indians, and which Satan makes them believe were
so. They are much attached to idolatry ; frequently
making feasts, which they eat in honour to some unknown
beings, who, they suppose, speak to them in dreams ; pro
mising them success in hunting, and other affairs, in case
they will sacrifice to them. They oftentimes also offer
their sacrifices to the spirits of the dead ; who, they
suppose, stand in need of favours from the living, and yet
are in such a state as that they can well reward all the
offices of kindness that are shown them. And they
impute all their calamities to the neglect of these sacrifices.
Furthermore, they are much awed by those among
themselves, who are called powows, who are supposed to
have a power of enchanting, or poisoning them to death,
or at least in a very distressing manner. And they appre
hend it would be their sad fate to be thus enchanted, in .
case they should become Christians.
Lastly, The manner qf their living is likewise a great
disadvantage to the design of their being christianized.
They are almost continually roving from place to place ;
and it is but rare that an opportunity can be had with
some of them for their instruction. There is scarce any
time of the year, wherein the men can be found generally
at home, except about six weeks before, and in, the season
of planting their corn, and about two months in the latter
part of summer, from the time they begin to roast their
corn, until it is fit to gather in.
As to the hardships that necessarily attend a mission
among them, the fatigues of frequent journeying in the
wilderness, the unpleasantness of a mean and hard way of
living, and the great difficulty of addressing " a people of
a strange language," these I shall, at present, pass over in
silence ; designing what I have already said of difficulties
attending this work, not for the discouragement of any,
but rather for the incitement of all, who " love the appear
ing and kingdom of Christ," to frequent the throne of
grace with earnest supplications, that the heathen, who
were anciently promised to Christ " for his inheritance,"
may now actually and speedily be brought into his king
dom of grace, and made heirs of immortal glory.
I am, Sir,
Your obedient, humble servant,
DAVID BRAINERD;
From the For-ks of Delaware, in
Pennsylvania, Nov. 5, 1744.
P. S. It should have been observed in the preceding
account, that although the number of Indians in the place
I visited on Susquehannah river, in October last, is but

A SHORT ACCOUNT OF MISSIONS.

43.5

small, yet their numbers in the adjacent places are very
considerable ; who, it is hoped, might be brought to em
brace Christianity by the example of others. But being
at present somewhat more savage, and unacquainted with
the English, than these I visited, I thought it not best to

make my first attempts among them ; hopipg I might
hereafter be better introduced among them by means of
these. — Sundry of the neighbouring settlements are much
larger than this : so that there are, probably, several
hundreds ofthe Indians not many miles distant. D. B.

MR. BRAINERD'S REMAINS,

CONSISTING OF

LETTERS AND OTHER PAPERS

LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Mr. Brainerd had a large acquaintance and correspondence, especially in the latter part of his life, and he did much
at writing letters to his absent friends ; but the most of his acquaintance living at a great distance from me, I have not
been able to obtain copies of many that he wrote : however, the greater part of those which I have seen, are such as
appear to me of profitable tendency, and worthy of the public view : I have therefore here added a few of his letters.
N. B. Several of these which follow, are not published at large, because some parts of them were concerning parti
cular affairs of a private nature.

LETTER I.
To his brother- John, then a student at Yale college, New
Haven.
dear brother, Kaunaumeek, April 30, 1743.
I should tell you, " I long to see you," but that my
own experience has taught me, there is no happiness, and
plenary satisfaction to be enjoyed, in earthly friends, though
ever so near and dear, or in any enjoyment, that is not
God himself. Therefore, if the God qf all grace would
be . pleased graciously to afford us each his presence and
grace, that we may perform the work, and endure the
trials he calls us to, in a most distressing tiresome wilder
ness, till we arrive at our journey's end ; the local distance,
at which we are held from each other at the present, is a
matter of no great moment or importance to either of us.
But, alas ! the presence of God is what I want. — I live in
the most lonely melancholy desert, about eighteen miles
from Albany ; for it was not thought best that I should go to
Delaware river, as I believe I hinted to you in a letter from
New York. I board with a poor Scotchman : his wife can
talk scarce any English. My diet consists mostly of hasty-
pudding, boiled corn, and bread baked in the ashes, and
sometimes a little meat and butter. My lodging is a little
heap of straw, laid upon some boards, a little way from
the ground ; for it is a log-room, without any floor, that I
lodge in. My work is exceeding hard and difficult : I
travel on foot a mile and half, the worst of ways, almost
daily, and back again; for I live so far from my Indians.

— I have not seen an English person this month. — These
and many other circumstances as uncomfortable attend
me ; and yet my spiritual conflicts and distresses so far ex
ceed all these, that I scarce think of them, or hardly mind
but that I am entertained in the most sumptuous manner.
The Lord grant that I may learn to " endure hardness, as
a good soldier of Jesus Christ ! " As to my success here I
cannot say much as yet : the Indians seem generally
kind, and well-disposed towards me, and are mostly very
attentive to my instructions, and seem willing to be taught
further. Two or three, I hope, are under some convictions :
but there seems to be little of the special workings of
the divine Spirit among them yet ; which gives me many
a heart-sinking hour. Sometimes I hope, God has abun
dant blessings in store for them and me ; but at other
times, I am so overwhelmed with distress that I can
not see how his dealings with me are consistent with
covenant love and faithfulness ; and I say, " Surely his
tender mercies are clean gone for ever." — But however, 1
see, I needed all this chastisement already : " It is good for
me" that I have endured these trials, and have hitherto
little or no apparent success. Do not be discouraged by
my distresses. I was under great distress, at Mr. Pom-
roy's, when I saw you last ; but " God has been with me
of a truth," since that : he helped me sometimes sweetly
at Long Island, and elsewhere. But let us always remem
ber, that we must through much tribulation enter into
God's eternal kingdom of rest and peace. The righteous
are scarcely saved : it is an infinite wonder, that we have
well-grounded hopes of being saved at all. For my part,
I feel the most vile of any creature living ; and I am sure

436

BRAINERD'S REMAINS.

sometimes, there is not such another existing on this side
/,e//. — — Now all you can do for me, is, to pray incessantly,
that God would make me humble, holy, resigned, and
heavenly-minded, by all my trials.  " Be strong in the
Lord, and in the power of his might." Let us run, wrestle,
and fight that we may win the prize, and obtain that com
plete happiness, to be " holy, as God is holy." So wish
ing and praying that you may advance in learning and
grace, and be fit for special service for God,
1 remain, Your affectionate brother,
DAVID BRAINERD.

LETTER II.
To his brother John, at Yale college, New Haven.
dear brother, Kaunaumeek, Dec. 27, 1743.
I long to see you, and know how you fare in your
journey through a world of inexpressible sorrow, where we
are compassed about with " vanity, confusion, and vexa
tion of spirit." I am more weary of life, I think, than
ever I was. The whole world appears to me like a huge
vacuum, a vast empty space, whence nothing desirable, or
at least satisfactory, can possibly be derived ; and I long
daily to die more and more to it ; even though I obtain not
that comfort from spiritual things which I. earnestly desire.
Worldly pleasures, such as flow from greatness, riches,
honours, and sensual gratifications, are infinitely worse
than none. May the Lord deliver us more and more from
these vanities! 1 have spent most of the fall and winter
hitherto in a weak state of body ; and sometimes under
pressing inward trials, and spiritual conflicts : but" having
obtained help from God, I continue to this day ;" and am
now something better in health than I was some time ago.
I find nothing more conducive to a life of Christianity,
than a diligent, industrious, and faithful improvement of
precious time. Let us then faithfully perform that business,
which is allotted to us by Divine Providence, to the ut
most of our bodily strength and mental vigour. Why
should we sink, and grow discouraged, with any particular
trials and perplexities we are called to encounter in the
world ? Death and eternity are just before us ; a few
tossing billows more will waft us into the world of spirits,
and we hope, through infinite grace, into endless pleasures,
and uninterrupted rest and peace. Let us then " run with
patience the race set before us," Heb. xii. 1, 2. And oh
that we could depend more upon the living 6fo_,and less
upon our own wisdom and strength !  Dear brother,
may the God qf all grace comfort your heart, and succeed
your studies, and make you an instrument of good to his
people in your day. This is the constant prayer of
Your affectionate brother,
DAVID BRAINERD.

LETTER III.
To his brother Israel, at Haddam.
my dear brother, Kaunaumeek, Jan. 21, 1743-4.
 There is but one thing that deserves our highest care
and most ardent desires ; and that is, that we may answer
the great end for which we were made, viz. to glorify that
God, who has given us our beings and all our comforts,
and do all the good we possibly can to Our fellow-men,
while we live in the worid : and verily life is not worth
the having, if it be not improved for this noble end and
purpose. Yet, alas, how little is this thought of among
mankind ! Most men seem to live to themselves, without
much regard to the glory of God, or the good of their
fellow-creatures. They earnestly desire and eagerly pur
sue after the riches, the honours, and the pleasures of life,
as if they really supposed, that wealth, or greatness, or
merriment, could make their immortal souls happy. But,
alas, what false and delusive dreams are these ! And how
miserable will those ere long be, who are not awaked out

of them, to see, that all tlieir happiness consists in living to
God, and becoming " holy, as he is holy!" Oh, may
you never fall into the tempers and vanities, the sensuality
and folly, of the present world ! You are, by Divine
Providence, left as it were alone in a wide world, to act
for yourself : be sure then to remember, it is a world of
temptation. You have no earthly parents to be the means
of forming your youth to piety and virtue, by their pious
examples, and seasonable counsels ; let this then excite
you with greater diligence and fervency to look up to the
Father qf mercies for grace and assistance against all the
vanities of the world. And if you would glorify God, or
answer his just expectations from you, and make your own
soul happy in this and the coming world, observe these
few directions ; though not from a father, yet from a brother
who is touched with a tender concern for your present and
future happiness. And,
First, Resolve upon, and daily endeavour to practise, a
life of seriousness and strict sobriety. The wise man will
tell you the great advantage of such a life, Eccl. vii. 3.
Think of the life of Christ ; and when you can find that
he was pleased with jesting and vain merriment, then you
may indulge it in yourself.
Again, Be careful to make a good improvement of pre
cious time. When you cease from labour, fill up your
time in reading, meditation, and prayer : and while your
hands are labouring, let your heart be employed, as much
as possible, in divine thoughts.
Further, Take heed that you faithfully perform the busi
ness you have to do in the world, from a regard to the
commands of God ; and not from an ambitious desire of
being esteemed better than others. We should always
look upon ourselves as God's servants, placed in God's
world, to do his work; and accordingly labour faithfully
for him ; not with a design to grow rich and great, but to
glorify God, and do all the good we possibly can.
Again, Never expect any satisfaction or happiness from
the world. If you hope for happiness in the world, hope
for it from God, and not from the world. Do not think
you shall be more happy if you live to such or such a
state of life, if you live to be for yourself, to be settled in
the world, or if you should gain an estate in it : but look
upon it that you shall then be happy when you can be
constantly employed for God, and not for yourself ; and
desire to live in this world, only to do and suffer what God
allots to you. When you can be of the spirit and temper
of angels who are willing to come down into this lower
world to perform what God commands them, though their
desires are heavenly, and not in the least set on earthly
things, then you will be of that temper that you ought to
have, Col. iii. 2.
Once more, Never think that you can live to God by
you own power or strength ; but always look to and rely
on him for assistance, yea, for all strength and grace.
There is no greater truth than this, that " we can do no
thing of ourselves," (John xv. 5. and 2 Cor. iii. 5.) yet
nothing but our own experience can effectually teach it us.
Indeed we are a long time in learning, that alt our strength
and salvation is in God. This is a life that I think no
unconverted man can possibly live ; and yet it is a life that
every godly soul is pressing after in some good measure.
Let it then be your great concern, thus to devote yourself
and your all to God.
1 long to see you, that I may say much more to you
than I now can for your benefit and welfare ; but I de
sire to commit you to, and leave you with, the Father qf
mercies, and God of all grace ; praying that you may be
directed safely through an evil world to God's heavenly
kingdom. I am your affectionate loving brother,
DAVID BRAINERD.
LETTER IV.
To a special friend.
The Forks qf Delaware, July 31, 1744.
 Certainly the greatest, the noblest pleasure of in
telligent creatures must result from their acquaintance

LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS.

437

with the blessed God, and with their own rational and im
mortal souls. And oh how divinely sweet and entertain
ing is it to look into out own souls, when we can find all
our powers and passions united and engaged in pursuit
after God, our whole souls longing and passionately breath
ing after a conformity to him, and the full enjoyment of
him ! Verily there are no hours pass away with so much
divine pleasure, as thosie that are spent in communing with
God and our own hearts. Oh how sweet is a spirit of
devotion, a spirit of seriousness and divine solemnity, _
spirit of gospel simplicity, love, and tenderness ! Oh how
desirable, and how profitable to the christian life, is a
spirit of holy watchfulness and godly jealousy over our
selves ; when our souls are afraid of nothing so much as
that we shall grieve and offend the blessed God, whom at
such times we apprehend, or at least hope, to be a father
and friend ; whom we then love and long to please, rather
than to be happy ourselves, or at least we delight to derive
our happiness from pleasing and glorifying him ! Surely
this is a pious temper, worthy of the highest ambition and
closest pursuit of intelligent creatures and holy Christians.
Oh how vastly superior is the pleasure, peace, and satis
faction derived from these divine frames, to that which we,
alas ! sometimes pursue in things impertinent and trifling !
Our own bitter experience teaches us, that " in the midst
of such laughter the heart is sorrowful," and there is no
true satisfaction but in God. But, alas ! how shall we
obtain and retain this sweet spirit of religion and devo
tion ? Let us follow the apostle's direction, Phil. ii. 12.
and labour upon the encouragement he there mentions,
ver. 13. for it is God only can afford us this favour ; and
he will be sought to, and it is fit we should wait upon him,
for so rich a mercy. Oh, may the God of all grace afford
us the grace and influences of his divine Spirit ; and help
us that we may from our hearts esteem it our greatest
liberty and happiness, that " whether we live, we mav live
to the Lord, or whether we die, we may die to the Lord ;
that in life and death we may be his !
I am in a very poor state of health ; I think scarce ever
poorer : but through divine goodness I am not discontented
under my weakness and confinement to this wilderness. I
bless God for this retirement : I never was more thankful
for any thing than I have been of late for the necessity I
am under of self-denial in many respects. I love to be a
pilgrim and stranger in this wilderness : it seems most fit
for such a poor ignorant, worthless, despised creature as I.
I would not change my present mission for any other busi
ness in the whole world. I may tell you freely, without
vanity and ostentation, God has of late given me great free
dom and fervency in prayer, when I have been so weak and
feeble that my nature seemed as if it would speedily dis
solve. I feel as if my all was lost, and I was undone for
this world, if the poor heathen may not be converted. I
feel, in general, different from what I did when I saw you
last ; at least more crucified to all the enjoyments of life.
It would be very refreshing to me to see you here in this
desert ; especially in my weak disconsolate hours : but I
think 1 could be content never to see you or any of my
friends again in this world, if God would bless my labours
here to the conversion of the poor Indians.
I have much that I could willingly communicate to
you, which I must omit, till Providence gives us leave to
see each other. In the mean time, I rest
Your obliged friend and servant,
DAVID BRAINERD.

LETTER V.
To a special friend, a minister qf the gospel in New Jersey.
The Forks qf Delaware, Dec. 24, 1744.
REV. AND DEAR BROTHER,
* — I have little to say to you about spiritual joys, and
those blessed refreshments and divine consolations, with
which I have been much favoured in times past : but this
I can tell you, that if I gain experience in no other point,
yet I am sure I do in this, viz. that the present world has
nothing in it to satisfy an immortal soul : and hence, that

it is not to be desired for itself, but only because God may
be seen and served in it. And I wish I could be more pa
tient and willing to live in it for this end, than I can usually
find myself to be. It is no virtue I know to desire death,
only to be freed from the miseries of life : but I want that
divine hope which you observed when I saw you last, was
the very sinews of vital religion. Earth can do us no
gejod ; and if there be no hope of our doing good on earth,
how can we desire to live in it ? And yet we ought to de
sire, or at least to be resigned, to tarry in it; because it is
the will of our all-wise Sovereign. But perhaps these
thoughts will appear melancholy and gloomy, and con
sequently will be very undesirable to you ; and therefore
I forbear to add. I wish you may not read them in the
same circumstances in which I write them. I have a little
more to do and suffer in a dark disconsolate world ; and
then I hope to be as happy as you are — I should ask you
to pray for me were I worth your concern. May the Lord
enable us both to " endure hardness as good soldiers of
Jesus Christ;" and may we ".obtain mercy of God to be
faithful to the death," in the discharge of our respective
trusts ! I am your very unworthy brother,
And humble servant,
DAVID BRAINERD.

LETTER VI.
To his brother John, at college.
Crossweeksung, New Jersey, Dec. 28, 1745.
VERY DEAR BROTHER,
 1 am in one continued, perpetual, and uninterrupted
hurry ; and Divine Providence throws so much upon me
that I do not see it will ever be otherwise. May I " ob
tain mercy of God to be faithful to the death !" I cannot
say I am weary of my hurry ; I only want strength and
grace to do more for God than I have ever yet done.
My dear brother; The Lord qf heaven, that has carried
me through many trials, bless you ; bless you for time, and
eternity ; and fit you to do service for him in his church
below, and to enjoy his blissful presence in his church
triumphant. My brother ; " the time is short :" oh let us
fill it up for God ; let us " count the sufferings of this
present, time " as nothing, if we can but " run our race, and
finish our course with joy." Oh, let us strive to live to
God. I bless the Lord, I have nothing to do with earth,
but only to labour honestly in it for God, till I shall " ac
complish as an hireling my day." I think I do not desire
to live one minute for any thing that earth can afford. Oh,
that I could live for none but God, till my dying moment !
1 am your affectionate brother,
DAVID BRAINERD.

LETTER VII.
To his brother Israel, then a student at Yale college, New
Haven.
Elizabeth-town, New Jersey, Nov. 24, 1746.
DEAR BROTHER,
I had determined to make you and my other friends in
New England a visit this fall : partly from an earnest
desire I had to see you and them, and partly with a view
to the recovery 'of my health ; which has, for more than
three months past, been much impaired. And in order to
prosecute this design, I set out from my own people about
three weeks ago, and came as far as to this place ; where,
my disorder greatly increasing, I have been obliged to
keep house ever since, until the day before yesterday ; at
which time I was able to ride about half a mile, but found
myself much tired with the journey. I have now no hopes
of prosecuting my journey into New England this winter ;
my present state of health will by no means admit of it.
Although I am, through divine goodness, much better
than I was some days ago ; yet I have not strength now

438

BRAINERD'S REMAINS.

to ride more than ten miles a day, if the season were warm,
and fit for me to travel in. My disorder has been attended
with several symptoms of a consumption ; and I have been
at times apprehensive that my great change was at hand :
yet blessed be God, I have never been affrighted ; but, on
the contrary, at times much delighted with a view of its
approach. Oh, the blessedness of being delivered from
the clogs of flesh and sense, from a body qf sin and
spiritual death ! Oh, the unspeakable sweetness of being
translated into a state of complete purity and perfection I
Believe me, my brother, a lively view and hope of these
things, will make the king of terrors himself appear agree
able.  -Dear brother, let me entreat you to keep eternity
in your view, and behave yourself as becomes one that
must shortly " give an account of all things done in the
body." That God may be your God, and prepare you for
his service here, and his kingdom of glory hereafter, is the
desire and daily prayer of
Your affectionate loving brother,
DAVID BRAINERD.

LETTER VIII.
To his brother Israel, at college : written in the time qf
his extreme illness in Boston, _ few months before his
death.

MY DEAR BROTHER,

Boston, June 30, 1747.

It is from the sides of eternity I now address you. I
am heartily sorry that I have so little strength to write
what I long so much to communicate to you. But let me
tell you, my brother, eternity is another thing than we
ordinarily take it to be in a healthful state. Oh, how vast
and boundless ! Oh, how fixed and unalterable ! Oh, of
what infinite importance is it, that we be prepared for eter
nity ! I have been just a dying now for more than a
week ; and all around me have thought me so. I have
had clear views of eternity ; have seen the blessedness of
the godly, in some measure ; and have longed to share
their happy state ; as well as been comfortably satisfied,
that through grace I shall do so : but oh, what anguish
is raised in my mind, to think of an eternity for those who
are Christless, for those who are mistaken, and who bring
their false hopes to the grave with them ! The sight was
so dreadful I could by no means bear it : my thoughts re
coiled, and I said, (under a more affecting sense than ever
before,) " Who can dwell with everlasting burnings ?" Oh,
methought, could I now see my friends, that I might warn
them to see to it, that they lay their foundation for eternity
sure. And you, my dear brother, I have been particularly
concerned for ; and have wondered I so much neglected
conversing with you about your spiritual state at our last
meeting. Oh, my brother, let me then beseech you now
to examine, whether you are indeed a new creature?
whether you have ever acted above self? whether the
glory of God has ever been the sweetest and highest con
cern with you ? whether you have ever been reconciled to
all the perfections of God ? in a word, whether God has
been your portion, and a holy conformity to him your
chief delight ? If you cannot answer positively, consider
seriously the frequent breathings of your soul : but do not
however put yourself off with a slight answer. If you
have reason to think you are graceless, oh give yourself and
the throne of grace no rest, tul God arise and save. But
if the case should be otherwise, bless God for his grace,
and press after holiness.*
My soul longs that you should be fitted for, and in due
time go into, the work of the ministry. I cannot bear to
think of your going into any other business in life. Do
not be discouraged, because you see your elder brothers
in the ministry die early, one after another. I declare,
now I am dying, I would not have spent my life otherwise
for the whole world. But I must leave this with God.
If this line should come to your hands soon after the
date, I should be almost desirous you should set out on
a journey to me : it may be, you may see me alive ;
* Mr. Brainerd afterwards had greater satisfaction concerning the state

which I should much rejoice in. But if you cannot come,
I must commit you to the grace of God, where you are.
May he be your guide and counsellor, your sanctifier and
eternal portion !
Oh, my dear brother, flee fleshly lusts, and the enchant
ing amusements, as well as corrupt doctrines, of the present
day ; and strive to live to God. Take this as the last line
from Your affectionate dying brother,
DAVID BRAINERD.

LETTER IX.
To a young gentleman, a candidate for the work qf the
ministry, for whom he had a special friendship ; also
written at the same time of his great illness and nearness
to death in Boston.
VERY DEAR SIR,
How amazing it is, that the living who know they must
die, should notwithstanding " put far away the evil day,"
in a season of health and prosperity ; and live at such an
awful distance from a familiarity with the grave, and the
great concerns beyond it ! and especially it may justly fill
us with surprise, that any whose minds have been divinely
enlightened, to behold the important things of eternity as
they are, I say, that such should live in this manner. And
yet, Sir, how frequently is this the case ! how rare are the
instances of those who live and act from day to day, as on
the verge of eternity ; striving to fill up all their remaining
moments in the service and to the honour of their great
Master ! We insensibly trifle away time, while we seem
to have enough of it ; and are so strangely amused, as in
a great measure to lose a sense of the holiness and blessed
qualifications necessary to prepare us to be inhabitants of
the heavenly paradise. But oh, dear Sir, a dying bed, if
we enjoy our reason clearly, will give another view of
things. I have now, for more than three weeks, lain
under the greatest degree of weakness ; the greater part of
the time, expecting daily and hourly to enter into the
eternal world : sometimes have been so far gone, as to be
wholly speechless, for some hours together. And oh, of
what vast importance has a holy spiritual life appeared to
me to be at this season ! I have longed to call upon all
my friends, to make it their business to live to God;
and especially all that are designed for, or engaged in, the
service of the sanctuary. O, dear Sir, do not think it
enough to live at the rate of common Christians. Alas, to
how little purpose do they often converse, when they meet
together ! The visits even of those who are called Chris
tians indeed, are frequently extremely barren ; and con
science cannot but condemn us for the misimprovement of
time, while we have been conversant with them. But the
way to enjoy the divine presence, and be fitted for distin
guishing service for God, is to live a life of great devotion
and constant self-dedication to him ; observing the motions
and dispositions of our own hearts, whence we may leam
the corruptions that lodge there, and our constant need of
help from God for the performance of the least duty. And
oh, dear Sir, let me beseech you frequently to attend the
great and precious duties of secret fasting and prayer.
I have a secret thought from some things I have ob
served, that God may perhaps design you for some singu
lar service in the world. Oh then labour to be prepared
and qualified to do much for God. Read Mr. Edwards's
piece on the affections, again and again ; and labour to
distinguish clearly upon experiences and affections in re
ligion, that you may make a difference between the gold
and the shining dross. I say, labour here, if ever you
would be a useful minister of Christ ; for nothing has put
such a stop to the work of God in the late day as the
false religion, and the wild affections that attend it. Suffer
me therefore, finally, to entreat you earnestly to " give
yourself to prayer, to reading and meditation" on divine
truths : strive to penetrate to the bottom of them, and
never be content with a superficial knowledge. By this
of his brother's soul, by much opportunity of conversation with him before
his death.

LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS.

439

means, your thoughts will gradually grow weighty and
judicious ; and you hereby will be possessed of a valuable
treasure, out of which you may produce " things new and
old," to the glory of God.
And now, " I commend you to the grace of God ;''
earnestly desiring that a plentiful portion of the divine
Spirit may rest upon you ; that you may live to God in
every capacity of life, and do abundant service for him
in a public one, if it be his will ; and that you may be
richly qualified for the " inheritance of the saints in light."
— I scarce expect to see your face any more in the body ;
and therefore entreat you to accept this as the last token of
love, from Your sincerely affectionate dying friend,
DAVID BRAINERD.
P. S. I am now, at the dating of this letter, consider
ably recovered from what I was when I wrote it ; it having
lain by me some time, for want of an opportunity of con
veyance ; it was written in Boston. — — I am now able to
ride a little, and so am removed into the country : but
have no more expectation of recovering than when I
wrote, though I am a little better for the present ; and
therefore I still subscribe myself, Your dying friend, &c.
D. B.

LETTER X.
To his brother John, at Bethel, the town qf christian In
dians in New Jersey ; written, likewise at Boston, when
he was there on the brink qf the grave, in the summer
before his death.
DEAR BROTHER,
I am now just on the verge of eternity, expecting very
speedily to appear in the unseen world. I feel myself no
more an inhabitant of earth, and sometimes earnestly long
to " depart and be with Christ." I bless God, he has for
some years given me an abiding conviction, that it is im
possible for any rational creature to enjoy true happiness
without being entirely "devoted to him." Under the in
fluence of this conviction I have in some measure acted.
Oh that I had done more so ! I saw both the excellency
and necessity of holiness in life ; but never in such a man
ner as now, when I am just brought to the sides of the
grave. Oh, my brother, pursue after holiness; press to
wards this blessed mark ; and let your thirsty soul con
tinually say, " I shall never be satisfied till I awake in
thy likeness." Although there has been a great deal of
selfishness in mv views; of which I am ashamed, and for
which my soul is humbled at every view; yet, blessed
be God, I find I have really had, for the most part, such
a concern for his glory, and the advancement of his king
dom in the world, that it is a satisfaction to me to reflect
u pon these years.
And how, my dear brother, as I must press you to pur
sue after personal holiness, to be as much in fasting and
prayer as your health wili allow, and to live above the
rate of common Christians; so I must entreat you so
lemnly to attend to your public work ; labour to distin
guish between true and false religion ; and to that end,
watch the motions of God's Spirit upon your own heart.
* I had at first fully intended, in publishing this and the foregoing let
ters, to have suppressed these passages wherein my name is mentioned,
and my Discourse on Religious Affections recommended : and am sensi
ble, that by my doing otherwise, 1 shall bring upon me the reproach of
some. But how much soever I may be pleased with the commendation
of any performance of mine, (and I confess, I esteem the judgment and
approbation of such a person as Mr. Brainerd -worthy to be valued, and
look on myself as highly honoured by it,) yet I can truly say, the things
that governed me in altering my forementioned determination, with re
spect to these passages, were these two. (I.) What Mr. Brainerd here
says of that discourse, shows very fully and particularly what his notions
were of experimental religion, and the nature of true piety, and how far

Look to him for help ; and impartially compare your ex
periences with his word. Read Mr. Edwards on the Affec
tions, where the essence and soul of religion is clearly dis
tinguished from false affections.* Value religious joys
according to the subject matter of them : there are many
who rejoice in their supposed justification; but what do
these joys argue, but only that they love themselves ?
Whereas, in true spiritual joys the soul rejoices in God
for what he is in himself; blesses God for his holiness,
sovereignty, power, faithfulness, and all his perfections ;
adores God that he is what he is, that he is unchangeably
possessed of infinite glory and happiness. Now when
men thus rejoice in the perfections of God, and in the in
finite excellency qf the way of salvation by Christ, and in
the holy commands of God, which are a transcript of his
holy nature; these joys are divine and spiritual. Our joys
will stand by us at the hour of death, if we can be then
satisfied that we have thus acted above self; and in a
disinterested manner, if I may so express it, rejoiced in
the glory of the blessed God.  1 fear you are not suffi
ciently aware how much false religion there is in the
world ; many serious Christians and valuable ministers
are too easily imposed upon by this false blaze. I like
wise fear, you are not sensible of the dreadful effects and
consequences of this false religion. Let me tell you, it is
the devil transformed into an angel of light ; it is a brat
of hell, that always springs up with every revival of reli
gion, and stabs and murders the cause of God, while it
passes current with multitudes of well-meaning people for
the height of religion. Set yourself, my brother, to crush
all appearances of this nature among the Indians, and
never encourage any degrees of heat without light. Charge
my people in the name of their dying minister, yea, in the
pame of him who was dead and is alive, to live and walk
as becomes the gospel. Tell them, how great the expec
tations of God and his people are from them, and now
awfully they will wound God's cause, if they fall into
vice; as well as fatally prejudice other poor Indians. Al
ways insist, that their experiences are rotten, that their
joys are delusive, although they may have been rapt up
into the third heavens in their own conceit by them, unless
the main tenour of their lives he spiritual, watchful, and
holy. In pressing these things, " thou shalt both save
thyself, and those that hear thee." 
God knows, I was heartily willing to have served him
longer in the work of the ministry, although it had still
been attended with all the labours and hardships of past
years, if he had seen fit that it should be so : but as
his will now appears otherwise, I am fully content, and*
can with utmost freedom say, " The will of the Lord be
done." It affects me to think of leaving you in a world
of sin : my heart pities you, that those storms and tem
pests are yet before you, which I trust, through grace, I
am almost delivered from. But "God lives, and blessed
be my Rock :" he is the same Almighty Friend : and will,
I trust, be your guide and helper, as he has been mine.
And now, my dear brother, " 1 commend you to God,
and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you
up, and give you inheritance among all them that are
sanctified. May you enjoy the divine presence both in
private and public ; and may " the arms of your hands be
made strong, by the right hand of the mighty God of
Jacob !" Which are the passionate desires and prayers of
Your affectionate dying brother,
DAVID BRAINERD.
he was from placing it in impressions on the imagination, or any enthu
siastical impulses, and how essential in religion he esteemed holy practice,
&c. &c. For all that have read that discourse, know what sentiments are
there expressed concerning those things. (2.) I judged, that the approba
tion of so apporent and eminent a friend and example of inward vital re
ligion, and evangelical piety in the height of it, would probably tend to
make that book more serviceable ; especially among some kinds of zealous
persons, whose benefit was especially aimed at in the hook ; some of which
are prejudiced against it, as written in too legal a strain, and opposing some
things wherein the height of christian experience consists, and tending lo
build men upon their own works.

440

BRAINERD'S REMAINS.

DETACHED PAPERS.

FIRST PAPER.
A scheme of a dialogue between the various powers and
affections qf the mind, as they are found alternately
whispering in the godly soul. Mentioned in his diary,
Feb. 3, 1744.
The understanding introduced, (1.) As discovering its
own excellency, and capacity of enjoying the most sublime
pleasure and happiness. (2.) As observing its desire equal
to its capacity, and incapable of being satisfied with any
thing that wiil not fill it in the utmost extent of its exer
cise. (3.) As finding itself a dependent thing, not self-
sufficient; and consequently unable to spin happiness (as
the spider spins its web) out of its own bowels. This
self-sufficiency observed to be the property and prerogative
of God alone, and not belonging to any created being.
(4.) As in vain seeking sublime pleasure, satisfaction, and
happiness adequate to its nature, amongst created beings.
The search and knowledge of the truth in the natural
world allowed indeed to be refreshing to the mind ; but
still failing to afford complete happiness. (5.) As dis
covering the excellency and glory of God, that he is the
fountain of goodness, and well-spring of happiness, and
every way fit to answer the enlarged desires and cravings
of our immortal souls.
2. The will introduced, as necessarily, yet freely, choos
ing this God for its supreme happiness and only portion,
fully complying with the understanding's dictates, ac
quiescing in God as the best good, his will as the best
rule for intelligent creatures, and rejoicing that God is in
every respect just what he is ; and withal choosing and
delighting to be a dependent creature, always subject to
this God, not aspiring after self-sufficiency and supremacy,
but acquiescing in the contrary.
3. Ardent love or desire introduced, as passionately
longing to please and glorify the Divine Being, to be in
every respect conformed to him, and in that way to enjoy
him. This love or desire represented as most genuine;
not induced by mean and mercenary views ; not primarily
springing from selfish hopes of salvation, whereby the
divine glories would be sacrificed to the idol self: not
arising from a slavish fear of divine anger in case of
neglect, nor yet from hopes of feeling the sweetness of that
tender and pleasant passion of love in one's own breast ;
but from a just esteem of the beauteous object beloved.
This love further represented, as attended with vehement
longings after the enjoyment of its object, but unable to
find by what means.
4. The understanding again introduced, as informing,
(1.) How God might have been enjoyed, yea, how he
must necessarily have been enjoyed, had not man sinned
against him ; that as there was knowledge, likeness, and
love, so there must needs be enjoyment, while there was
no impediment. (2.) How he may be enjoyed in some
measure now, viz. by the same knowledge, begetting like
ness and love, which will be answered with returns of love,
and the smiles of God's countenance, which are better
than life. (3.) How God may be perfectly enjoyed, viz.
by the soul's perfect freedom from sin. This perfect free
dom never obtained till death ; and then not by any un
accountable means, or in any unheard-of manner ; but the
same by which it has obtained some likeness to and frui
tion of God in this world, viz. a clear manifestation of him.
5. Holy desire appears, and inquires why the soul may
not be perfectly holy ; and so perfect in the enjoyment of
God here ; and expresses most insatiable thirstings after
such a temper, and such fruition, and most consummate
blessedness. 6. Understanding again appears, and informs, that God
designs that those whom he sanctifies in part here, and
intends for immortal glory, shall tarry a while in this
* That is, more properly, impatience in a Jwly soul, and in reference to
a holy end ; but impatience itself 'a not holy, except we take tlie term in a

present evil world, that their own experience of tempta
tions, &c. may teach them how great the deliverance is,
which God has wrought for them, that they may be swal
lowed up in thankfulness and admiration to eternity ; as
also that they may be instrumental of doing good to their
fellow-men. Now if they were perfectly hoiy, &c. a world
of sin would not be a fit habitation for them : and further,
such manifestations of God as are necessary completely
to sanctify the soul, would be insupportable to the body,
so that we cannot see God and live.
7. Holy impatience* is next introduced, complaining of
the sins and sorrows of life, and almost repining at the
distance of a state of perfection, uneasy to see and feel the
hours hang so dull and heavy, and almost concluding that
the temptations, hardships, disappointments, imperfections,
and tedious employments of life will never come to a
happy period.
8. Tender conscience comes in, and meekly reproves the
complaints of impatience ; urging how careful and watch
ful we ought to be, lest we should offend the Divine Being
with complaints ; alleging also the fitness of our waiting
patiently upon God for all we want, and that in a way of
doing and suffering; and at the same time mentioning the
barrenness of the soul, how much precious time is misim-
proved, and how little it has enjoyed of God, compared
with what it might have done ; as also suggesting how
frequently impatient complaints spring from nothing better
than self-love, want of resignation, and a greater reverence
of the Divine Being.
9. Judgment or sound mind next appears, and duly
weighs the complaints of impatience, and the gentle ad
monitions of tender conscience, and impartially determines
between them. On the one hand, it concludes, that we
may always be impatient with sin; and supposes, that
we may be also with such sorrow, pain, and discourage
ment, as hinder our pursuit of holiness, though they arise
from the weakness of nature. It allows us to be impatient
of the distance at which we stand from a state of perfection
and blessedness. It further indulges impatience at the
delay of time ; when we desire the period of it for no
other end, than that we may with angels be employed in
the most lively spiritual acts of devotion, and in giving all
possible glory to him that lives for ever. Temptations and
sinful imperfections, it thinks, we may justly be uneasy
with ; and disappointments, at least those that relate to our
hopes of communion with God, and growing conformity to
him. And as to the tedious employments and hardships
of life, it supposes some longing for the end of them not
inconsistent with a spirit of faithfulness, and a cheerful dis
position to perform the one and endure the other: it sup
poses, that a faithful servant, who fully designs to do all
he possibly can, may still justly long for the evening ; and
that no rational man would blame his kind and tender
spouse, if he perceived her longing to be with him, while
yet faithfulness and duty to him might still induce her to
yield, for the present, to remain at a painful distance from
him. — On the other band, it approves of the caution, care,
and watchfulness of tender conscience, lest the Divine Being
should be offended with impatient complaints ; it acknow
ledges the fitness of our waiting upon God, in a way of
patient doing and suffering; but supposes this very con
sistent with ardent desires to depart, and to be with Christ.
It owns it fit that we should always remember our own bar
renness, and thinks also that we should be impatient of it,
and consequently long for a state of freedom from it ; and
this, not so much that we may feel the happiness of it, but
that God may have the glory. It grants, that impatient
complaints often spring from self-love, and want of resig
nation and humility. Such as these it disapproves ; and
determines, we should be impatient only of absence from
God, and distance from that state and temper wherein we
may most glorify him.
less proper sense, as our author evidently does.— W.

DETACHED PAPERS.

441

10. Godly sorrow introduced, as making her sad moan,
not so much that she is kept from the free possession and
full enjoyment of happiness, but that God must be dis
honoured ; the soul being still in a world of sin, and itself
imperfect. She here, with grief, counts over past faults,
present temptations, and fears from the future. -
11. Hope, ox holy confidence appears, and seems persuad
ed that " nothing shall ever separate the soul from the love
of God in Christ Jesus." It expects divine assistance and
grace sufficient for all the doing and suffering work of time,
and that death will ere long put a happy period to all sin
and sorrow ; and so takes occasion to rejoice.
12. Godly fear, or holy jealousy, here steps in, and sug-
;ests some timorous apprehensions of the danger of decep-
ion ; mentions the deceitfulness of the heart, the great in
fluence of irregular self-love in a fallen creature ; inquires
whether itself is not likely to have fallen in with delusion,
since the mind is so dark, and so little of God appears to
the soul ; and queries whether all its hopes of persevering
grace may not be presumption, and whether its confident
expectations of meeting death as a friend, may not issue in
disappointment. 13. Hereupon reflection appears, and minds the person
of his past experiences ; as to the preparatory work of con
viction and humiliation ; the view he then had of the im
possibility of salvation from liimself, or any created arm :
the manifestation he has likewise had of the glory of God
in Jesus Christ : how he then admired that glory, and chose
that God for his only portion, because of the excellency
and amiableness he discovered in him ; not from slavish
fear of being damned if he did not, nor from base and
mercenary hopes of saving himself; but from a just esteem
of that beauteous and glorious object : as also how he had from
time to time rejoiced and acquiesced in God, for what he
is in himself; being delighted, that he is infinite in holi
ness, justice, power, sovereignty, as well as in mercy,
goodness, and love : how he has likewise, scores of times,
felt his soul mourn for sin, for this very reason, because it
is contrary and grievous to God ; yea, how he has mourn
ed over one vain and impertinent thought, when he has been
so far from fear of the divine vindictive wrath for it, that
on the contrary he has enjoyed the highest assurance of the
divine everlasting love : how he has, from time to time,
delighted in the commands of God, for their own purity
and perfection, and longed exceedingly to be conformed to
them, and even to be " holy, as God is holy ;" and count
ed it present heaven, to be of a heavenly temper : how he
has frequently rejoiced, to think of being for ever subject
to and dependent on God ; accounting it infinitely greater
happiness to glorify God in a state of subjection to and
dependence on him, than to be a god himself: and how
heaven itself would be no heaven to him, if he could not
there be every thing that God would have him be.
14. Upon this, spiritual sensation, being awaked, comes
in, and declares that she now feels and " tastes that the
Lord is gracious ;" that he is the only supreme good, the
only soul-satisfying happiness ; that he is a complete, self-
sufficient, and almighty portion. She whispers, " Whom
have I in heaven but this God," this dear and blessed por
tion ? " and there is none upon earth I desire besides him."
Oh, it is heaven to please him, and to be just what he
would have me be ! O that my soul were " holy, as God is
holy!" O that it was " pure, as Christ is pure;" and
" perfect, as my Father in heaven is perfect !" These are
the sweetest commands in God's book, comprising all
others ; and shall I break them ? must I break them ? am
I under a fatal necessity of it, as long as I live in this
world ? O, my soul ! woe, woe is me, that I am a sinner !
because I now necessarily grieve and offend this blessed
God, who is infinite in goodness and grace. Oh, me
thinks, should he punish me for my sins, it would not
wound my heart so deep as to offend him ; but, though I
sin continually, he continually repeats his kindness towards
me ! Oh, methinks, I could" bear any suffering ; but how
can I bear to grieve and dishonour this blessed God ! How
shall I give ten thousand times more honour to him?
What shall I do, to glorify and worship this best of beings ?
O that I could consecrate myself, soul and body, to his
service for ever ! O that I couid give up myself to him, so
as never more to attempt to be my own, or to have any

will or affections that are not perfectly conformed to his !
But oh, alas, alas ! I cannot, I feel I cannot be thus entire
ly devoted to God : I cannot live and sin not. O ye angels,
do ye glorify him incessantly : if possible, exert yourselves
still more, in more lively and ardent devotion : if possible,
prostrate yourselves still lower before the throne of the
blessed King of heaven : I long to bear a part with you,
and, if it were possible, to help you. Yet when we have
done, we shall not be able to offer the ten thousandth part
of the homage he is worthy of. While spiritual sensation
whispered these things, fear and jealousy were greatly over
come ; and the soul replied, " Now I know, and am assur
ed," &c. and again, it welcomed death as a friend, saying,
" O death, where is thy sting!" &c.
15. Finally, holy resolution concludes the discourse,
fixedly determining to follow hard after God, and conti
nually to pursue a life of conformity to him. And the bet
ter to pursue this, enjoining it on the soul always to remem
ber, that God is the only source of happiness, that his will
is the only rule of rectitude to an intelligent creature, that
earth has nothing in it desirable for itself, or any further
than God is seen in it ; and that the knowledge of God in
Christ, begetting and maintaining love, and mortifying
sensual and fleshly appetites, is the way to be holy on
earth, and so lo be attempered to the complete holiness of
the heavenly world.

SECOND PAPER.
Some gloomy and desponding thoughts qf a soul under con
victions of sin, and concern for its eternal salvation.
1. I believe my case is singular, that none ever had so
many strange and different thoughts and feelings as I.
2. I have been concerned much longer than many others
I have known, or concerning whom I have read, who have
been savingly converted, and yet I am left.
3. I have withstood the power of convictions a long
time ; and therefore I fear I snail be finally left of God.
4. I never shall be converted, without stronger convic
tions, and greater terrors of conscience.
5. I do not aim at the glory of God in any thing I do,
and therefore I cannot hope for mercy.
6. I do not see the evil nature of sin, nor the sin of my
nature ; and therefore I am discouraged.
7. The more I strive, the more blind and hard my heart
is, and the worse I grow continually.
8. I fear God never showed mercy to one so vile as I.
9. I fear I am not e/ec/e_,and therefore must perish.
10. I fear the day of grace is past with me.
11. I fear I have committed the unpardonable sin.
12. I am an old sinner ; and if God had designed mercy
for me, he would have called me home to himself before
now.
THIRD PAPER.
Some signs qf godliness.
The distinguishing marks of a true Christian, taken from
one of my old manuscripts ; where I wrote as I felt and
experienced, and not from any considerable degree of doc
trinal knowledge, or acquaintance with the sentiments of
others in this point.
1. He has a true knowledge of the glory and excellency
of God, that he is most worthy to be loved and praised for
his own divine perfections. Psal. cxlv. 3.
2. God is his portion, Psal. lxxiii. 25. And God's glory
his great concern, Matt. vi. 22.
3. Holiness is his delight ; nothing he so much longs for,
as to be holy as God is holy. Phil. iii. 9 — 12.
4 Sin is his greatest enemy. This he hates, for its own
nature, for what it is in itself, being contrary to a holy
God, Jer. ii. 1 . And consequently he hates all sin, Rom.
vii. 24. 1 John iii. 9.
5. The laws of God also are his delight, Psal. cxix. 97.
Rom. vii. 22. These he observes, not out of constraint,
from a servile fear of hell ; but they are his choice, Psal.
cxix. 30. The strict observance of them is not his bond
age, but his greatest liberty, ver. 45.

A SERMON

PREACHED IN NEWARK, JUNE 12, 1744,

THE ORDINATION OF MR. DAVID BRAINERD,

A MISSIONARY AMONG THE INDIANS UPON THE BORDERS OF THE PROVINCES OF NEW YORK, NEW
JERSEY, AND PENNSYLVANIA.

BY E. PEMBERTON, A. M.

PASTOR OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK.

Luke xiv. 23.
And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the high
ways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my
house may be filled.
God erected this visible world as a monument of his
glory, a theatre for the display of his adorable perfections.
The heavens proclaim his wisdom and power in shining
characters, and the whole earth is full of his goodness.
Man was in his original creation excellently fitted for the
service of God, and for perfect happiness in the enjoyment
of the divine favour. But sin has disturbed the order of
nature, defaced the beauty of the creation, and involved
man, the lord of this lower world, in the most disconsolate
circumstances of guilt and misery.
The all-seeing eye of God beheld our deplorable state ;
infinite pity touched the heart of the Father of mercies ;
and infinite wisdom laid the plan of our recovery. The
Majesty of heaven did not see meet to suffer the enemy of
mankind eternally to triumph in his success ; nor leave his
favourite workmanship irrecoverably to perish in the ruins
of the apostacy. By a method, which at once astonishes
and delights the sublimest spirits above, he opened a way
for the display of his mercy, without any violation of the
sacred claims of his justice ; in which, the honour of the
law is vindicated, and the guilty offender acquitted ; sin is
condemned, and the sinner eternally saved. To accomplish
this blessed design, the beloved Son of God assumed the
nature of man, in our nature died a spotless sacrifice for
sin ; by the atoning virtue of his blood " he made recon
ciliation for iniquity," and by his perfect obedience to the
law of God, " brought in everlasting righteousness."
Having finished nis work upon earth, before he ascended
to his heavenly Father, he commissioned the ministers of
his kingdom to " preach the gospel to every creature."
He sent them forth to make the most extensive offers of
salvation to rebellious sinners, and by all the methods of
holy violence to " compel them to come in," and accept
the invitations of his grace. We have a lively representa
tion of this in the parable, in which our text is contained.
The evident design of it is, under the figure of a marriage-
supper, to set forth the plentiful provision, which is made
in our Lord Jesus Christ for the reception of his people,
and the freedom and riches of divine grace, which invites
the most unworthy and miserable sinners to partake of
this sacred entertainment. The first invited guests were
the Jews, the favourite people of God, who were heirs of
divine love, while the rest of the world were " aliens from
the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the cove
nants of promise :" but these, through the power of pre
vailing prejudice, and the influence of camal affections,

obstinately rejected the invitation, and were therefore
finally excluded from these invaluable blessings.
But it was not the design of infinite wisdom, that these
costly preparations should be lost, and the table he had
spread remain unfurnished with guests. Therefore he sent
forth his servant " into the streets and lanes of the city,"
and commanded him to bring in " the poor, the maimed,
the halt, and the blind," — i. e. the most necessitous and
miserable of mankind ; — yea, to " go out into the high
ways and hedges," to the wretched and perishing Gentiles,
and not only invite, but even " compel them to come in,
that his house might be filled."
The words of the text represent to us,
I. The melancholy state of the Gentile world. They are
described as " in the high-ways and hedges," in the
most perishing and helpless condition.
II. The compassionate care which the blessed Redeemer
takes of them in these their deplorable circum
stances. He " sends out his servants " to them, to
invite them to partake of the entertainments of his
house.
III. The duty of the ministers of the gospel, to " compel
them to come in," and accept of his gracious in
vitation. — These I shall consider in their order, and
then apply them to the present occasion.
I. I am to consider the melancholy state of the heathen
world, while in the darkness of nature, and destitute of
divine revelation. It is easy to harangue upon the excel
lency and advantage of the light of nature. It is agreeable
to the pride of mankind to exalt the powers of human
reason, and pronounce it a sufficient guide to eternal hap
piness. But let us inquire into the records of antiquity,
let us consult the experience of all ages, and we shall find,
that those who had no guide but the light of nature, no
instructor but unassisted reason, have wandered in per
petual uncertainty, darkness, and error. Or let us take a
view of the present state of those countries that have not
been illuminated by the gospel ; and we shall see, that
notwithstanding the improvements of near six thousand
years, they remain to this day covered with the grossest
darkness, and abandoned to the most immoral and vicious
practices. The beauty and good order every where discovered in
the visible frame of nature, evidences, beyond all reason
able dispute, the existence of an infinite and almighty
Cause, who first gave being to the universe, and still pre
serves it by his powerful providence. Says the aposlle to
the Gentiles, (Rom. i. 20.) " The invisible things of God,
from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, being un
derstood by the things that are made, even his eternal

PEMBERTON'S SERMON AT BRAINERD'S ORDINATION.

443

power and Godhead." And yet many, even among the
philosophers of the Gentile nations, impiously denied the
eternal Deity, from whose hands they received their exist
ence ; and blasphemed his infinite perfections, when sur
rounded with the clearest demonstrations of his power and
goodness. Those who acknowledged a Deity, entertained
the unworthy conceptions of his nature and attributes, and
worshipped the creature, in the place of the Creator, " who
is God blessed for ever." Not only the illustrious heroes
of antiquity, and the public benefactors of mankind, but
even the most despicable beings in the order of nature,
were enrolled in the catalogue of their gods, and became
the object of their impious adoration. " They changed the
glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to
corruptible man, to birds and four-footed beasts, and creep
ing things," Rom. i. 23.
A few of the sublimest geniuses of Rome and Athens
had some faint discoveries of the spiritual nature of the
human soul, and formed some probable conjectures, that
man was designed for a future state of existence. When
they considered the extensive capacities of the human mind,
and the deep impressions of futurity engraven in every
breast, they could not but infer, that the soul was immor
tal, and at death would be translated to some new and
unknown state. When they saw the virtuous oppressed
with various and successive calamities, and the vilest of
men triumphing in prosperity and pleasure, they enter
tained distant hopes, that, in a future revolution, these
seeming inequalities would be rectified, these inconsisten
cies removed ; the righteous distinguishingly rewarded, and
the wicked remarkably punished. But after all their
inquiries upon this important subject, they attained no
higher than probable conjectures, some uncertain expecta
tions. And when they came to describe the nature and
situation of these invisible regions of happiness or misery,
they made the wildest guesses, and run into the most ab
surd and vain imaginations. The heaven they contrived
for the entertainment of the virtuous, was made up of sen
sual pleasures, beneath the dignity of human nature, and
inconsistent with perfect felicity. The hell they described
for the punishment of the vicious, consisted in ridiculous
terrors, unworthy the belief of a rational and religious
creature. Their practices were equally corrupt with their princi
ples. As the most extravagant errors were received among
the established articles of their faith, so the most infa
mous vices obtained in their practice, and were indulged
not only with impunity, but authorized by the sanction of
their laws. They stupidly erected altars "to idols of wood
and stone ; paid divine honours to those, who in their
lives had been the greatest monsters of lust and cruelty ;
yea, offered up their sons and daughters as sacrifices to
devils. The principles of honour, the restraints of shame,
the precepts of their philosophers, were all too weak to
keep their corruptions within any tolerable bounds. The
wickedness of their hearts broke through every enclosure,
and deluged the earth with rapine and violence, blood and
slaughter, and all manner of brutish and detestable impu
rities. It is hardly possible to read the melancholy de
scription of the principles and manners of the heathen
world given us by St. Paul, without horror and surprise ; to
think that man, once the " friend of God" and " the lord
of this lower world," should thus "deny the God that made
him," and bow down lo dumb idols ; should thus, by lust
and intemperance, degrade himself into the character of
the beast, " which hath no understanding ; " and by pride,
malice, and revenge, transform himself into the very
image of the devil, " who was a murderer from the be
ginning." This was the state of the Gentile nations, when the light
of the gospel appeared to scatter the darkness that over
spread the face of the earth. And this has been the case,
so far as has yet appeared, of all the nations ever since,
upon whom the Sun of righteousness has not arisen with
healing in his wings. Every new-discovered country opens
a new scene of astonishing ignorance and barbarity ; and
gives us fresh evidence of the universal corruption ot human
nature. II. I proceed now to consider the compassionate care
and kindness of our blessed Redeemer towards mankind,

in these their deplorable circumstances. He " sends out
his servants," to invite them " to come in," and accept the
entertainments of his house-
God might have left his guilty creatures to have eter
nally suffered the dismal effects of their apostacy, without
the least imputation of injustice, or violence of his infinite
perfections. The fall was the consequence of man's crimi
nal choice, and attended with the highest aggravations. —
The angels that sinned were made examples of God's
righteous severity, and are reserved " in chains" of guilt
" to the judgment of the great day." Mercy, that tender
attribute of the divine nature, did not interpose in tlieir
behalf, in order to suspend the execution of their sentence,
or to avert God's threatened displeasure. Their punish
ment is unalterably decreed, their judgment is irreversible ;
they are the awful monuments of revenging wrath, and are
condemned " to blackness of darkness for ever." — Now
justice might have shown the same inflexible severity to
rebellious man, and have left the universal progeny of
Adam to perish in their guilt and misery. It was un
merited mercy that distinguished the human race, in
providing a Saviour for us ; and it was the most signal
comparison that revealed the counsels of heaven for our
recovery. But though justice did not oblige the Divine Being to
provide for our relief, yet the goodness of the indulgent
Father of the universe inclined him to show pity to his
guilty creatures, who fell from their innocence through the
subtlety and malice of seducing and apostate spirits. It
was agreeable to the divine wisdom to disappoint the de
vices of Satan, the enemy of God and goodness, and re
cover the creatures he had made from their subjection to
the powers of darkness.
He therefore gave early discoveries of his designs of
mercy to our first parents, and immediately upon the
apostacy opened a door of hope for their recovery. He
revealed a Saviour to the ancient patriarchs, under dark
types and by distant promises ; made clearer declarations
of his will, as the appointed time drew near, for the accom
plishment of the promises, and the manifestation of the
Son of God in human flesh. " And when the fulness of
time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman,
made under the law, to redeem them that were under the
law, that we might receive the adoption of sons."
This divine and illustrious person left the bosom of his
Father, that he might put on the character of a servant ;
descended from the glories of heaven, that he might dwell
on this inferior earth ; was made under the law, that he
might fulfil all righteousness ; submitted to the infirmities
of human nature, to the sorrows and sufferings of an
afflicted life, and to the agonies of a painful ignominious
death on a cross, that he might destroy the power of sin,
abolish the empire of death, and purchase immortality and
glory for perishing man.
While our Lord Jesus resided in this lower world, he
preached the glad tidings of salvation, and published the
kingdom of God ; confirming his doctrine by numerous
and undoubted miracles, and recommending his instruc
tions by the charms of a spotless life and conversation.
He sent forth his apostles to pursue the same gracious de
sign of gospellizing the people, and furnished them with
sufficient powers to proselyte the nations to the faith. He
also appointed a standing ministry, to carry on a treaty of
peace with rebellious sinners, in the successive ages of the
church ; to continue, till the number of the redeemed is
completed, and the whole election of grace placed in cir
cumstances of spotless purity and perfect happiness.
These ministers are styled " the servants of Christ," by
way of eminence : they are in a peculiar manner devoted
to the service of their divine Master: from him they re
ceive their commission ; and by him they are appointed
to represent his person, preside in his worship, and teach
the laws of his kingdom. To assume this character with
out being divinely called, and regularly introduced into
this sacred office, is a bold invasion of Christ's royal au
thority, and an open violation of that order, which he has
established in his church. These not only derive their
mission from Christ, but it is his doctrine they are to preach,
and not the inventions of their own brain ; — it is A is
glory they are to promote, and not their own interest or

444

PEMBERTON'S SERMON AT BRAINERD'S ORDINATION.

honour. Their business is not to propagate the designs of
a party, but the common salvation, and to " beseech all, in
Christ's name, to be reconciled unto God."
The apostles, the primitive heralds of the everlasting
gospel, were sent to make the first tender of salvation to
" the lost sheep of the house of Israel ;" and they were
commanded to begin at Jerusalem, the centre of the Jew
ish commonwealth. But when the Jews obstinately per
sisted in their impenitence and unbelief, they were com
missioned to " preach the gospel to every creature under
heaven ;" the sinners of the Gentiles were invited to come
in, and accept of the offers of salvation.
The prophets pointed out a Messiah that was to come,
and proclaimed the joyful approach of a Redeemer at the
time appointed in the sovereign counsels of heaven. The
ministers of the gospel now are sent to declare, that the
prophecies are accomplished, the promise fulfilled, justice
satisfied, salvation purchased ; and all that will come in,
shall receive the blessings ofthe gospel. They are not only
freely to invite sinners, of all orders and degrees, of all ages
and nations ; but to assure them, that" all things are now
ready," and to use the most powerful and persuasive
methods, that they may engage them to comply with the
heavenly call. — Which brings me to the third thing pro
posed ; viz.
III. To show, that it is the great duty of the ministers of
the gospel " to compel sinners to come in," and accept of
the blessings ofthe gospel. This is so plainly contained
in my text, that I shall not multiply arguments to confirm
it. My only business shall be to explain the nature of this
compulsion, or show in what manner sinners are to be
" compelled to come in" to the christian church. — And
sure I am, not by the deceitful methods of fraud and dis
guise, nor the inhuman practices of persecution and vio
lence. This text indeed has often been alleged by the
persecuting bigots of all ages, and applied to support the
cause of religious tyranny ; to the infinite scandal ofthe
christian name, and the unspeakable detriment of the
christian interest. By this means the enemies of our most
holy faith have been strengthened in their infidelity, the
weak have been turned aside from " the truth, as it is in
Jesus," and the peaceable kingdom of the Messiah trans
formed into a field of blood, a scene of hellish and horrid
cruelties. If this were the compulsion recommended in the
gospel, then absolute unrelenting tyrants would be the
proper and most infallible teachers ; then racks and tor
tures would be the genuine and most successful method of
propagating the faith. But surely every Ihing of this kind,
every violent and driving measure, is in direct opposition to
the precepts and example of our blessed Saviour, and con
trary to the very genius of his gospel, which proclaims
" Glory lo God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will
towards men."*
The princes of this world exercise a temporal dominion
over mankind, and by fines levied on their estates, and
punishments inflicted upon their bodies, force men to an
outward subjection to their authority and government. But
the kingdom of our Lord is of a spiritual nature ; he erects
his empire in the hearts of men,and reigns over " a willing
people in the day of his power." External violence may
necessitate men to an external profession of the truth, and
procure a dissembled compliance with the institutions of
Christ ; but cnn never enlighten the darkness of the mind,
conquer the rebellion of the will, nor sanctify and save the
soul. It may transfigure men into accomplished hypo
crites ; but will never convert them inlo real saints.
The gospel was originally propagated by the powerful
preaching of Christ and his apostles, by the astonishing
miracles which they wrought in confirmation of their doc
trine, and the exemplary lives by which they adorned their
{irofession and character. Instead of propagating their re-
igion by the destructive methods of fire and sword, they
submitted to the rage and cruelty of a malignant world
with surprising patience, and sacrificed their very lives in
the cause of God, without any intemperate discoveries of
anger and resentment. — Instead of calling for " fire from
heaven" to destroy their opposers, they compassionated
their ignorance, instructed them with meekness, counselled
» Luke ii. 14. t Rom, i. 18.

and exhorted them with " all long-suffering and doctrine,
and even spent their dying breath in praying for their con
viction and conversion, that they might be saved in the
day of the Lord Jesus. ,
Now, in imitation of these primitive doctors of the
christian church, these wise and successful preachers of the
gospei,it is the duty ofthe ministers ofthe present day to
use the same methods of compassion and friendly violence.
A disinterested zeal for the glory of God, a stedfast ad
herence to the truth, and unshaken fidelity in our Master's
cause, with universal benevolence to mankind, must con
stantly animate our public discourses, and be conspicuous
in our private conversation and behaviour. We must dili
gently endeavour to convince the understandings, engage
the affections, and direct the practice of our hearers. Upon
this head, it may Dot be amiss .to descend to a few par
ticulars. 1. Ministers are to "compel sinners to come in," by
setting before them their " guilty and perishing condition
by nature." Sinners are naturally fond of carnal ease and
security ; they are delighted with their pleasant and pro
fitable sins; they even "drink in iniquity like water,"
with great greediness, with insatiable thirst, and incessant
gratification, but without fear or remorse. Upon this ac
count, there is the highest necessity to sound an alarm in
their ears, that they may be awakened to see and consider
their dangerous state; or else they will never be excited lo
" flee from the wrath to come." The secure sinner is in
sensible of his want of a Saviour : " The whole need not
a physician, but they that are sick."
To this end, the ministers of the gospel are to set " the
terrors of the Lord" in array against the sinner, and let hrm
hear the " thunder of divine curses," that utter their voice
against the unbelieving. They are to represent in the
dearest light, and with the most convincing evidence, the
evil of sin, and the danger to which it exposes ; lhat
" wrath from heaven is revealed against all ungodliness
and unrighteousness of men ;"f that the flaming sword of
incensed justice is unsheathed, and the arm of the Almighty
ready to destroy such as are " going on still in their ires-
passes," impenitent and secure. They are not only thus
to show them their danger, but to set before them at the
same time their wretched and helpless circumstances; —
that no human eye can successfully pity them, nor any
created arm bring them effectual deliverance; — that, while
in a state of unregenerate nature, they are destitute of
strength to perform any acceptable service to the blessed
God, and unable to make any adequate satisfaction lo his
offended justice; — that indeed they can neither avoid the
divine displeasure, nor endure the punishment that is due
to their crimes. Thus, by a faithful application of the law
and its threatenings, we should endeavour, by God's bless
ing, to make way for the reception of the gospel and its
promises. This was the wise method observed by our
blessed Saviour, the first preacher of the gospel; and by
the apostles, his inspired successors. So John the Baptist,
who served as " the morning-star" to usher in the appear
ance of the " Sun of righteousness," did thus " prepare the
way of the Lord," by enlightening the minds of men in the
knowledge of their guilt and misery, and inciting them to
flee from the " damnation of hell." — The three thousand
that were converted to the faith at one sermon, in the in
fancy of the christian church, were first awakened with a
sense of their aggravated guilt, in " crucifying the Lord of
glory ;" and brought in agony and distress to cry out, I
" Men and brethren, what shall we do ?"
This method, I confess, is disagreeable to the sentimenls
and inclinations of a secure world ; and may expose us to
the reproach of those " that are at ease in Zion :" but is
agreeable to the dictates of an enlightened mind, conform
able to the plan laid down in the Sacred Scriptures, and
has in all ages approved itself the most successful method
of promoting the interests of real and vital religion.
2. They are to "compel sinners to come in," by a lively
representation of thepower and grace of our Almighty Re
deemer. Not all the thunder and terror of curses from
mount Ebal, not all the tremendous " wrath revealed from
heaven against the ungodly," not all the anguish and hor-
J Acts ii. 36, 37.

PEMBERTON'S SERMON AT BRAINERD'S ORDINATION.

445

ror of a wounded spirit in an awakened sinner, are able lo
produce an unfeigned and effectual compliance with the
gospel-terms of mercy. The ministry of the law can only
give the knowledge of sin, rouse the sinner's conscience,
and alarm his fears : it is the dispensation of grace, that
sanctifies and saves the soul. Nor is the former needful but
in order to the latter. So much conviction as gives us a
sight of our sin and misery, as inclines us to " flee from the
wrath to come," and disposes us to submit to the gospel-
method of salvation " by grace through faith," by sovereign
mercy through the Mediator, so much is necessary ; and
more is neither requisite, nor useful, nor desirable.
It is not the office of preachers to be perpetually em
ployed in the language of terror, or exhaust their strength
and zeal in awakening and distressing subjects. No; but
as it is their distinguishing character, that they are minis
ters ofthe gospel, so it is their peculiar business to " preach
the unsearchable riches of Christ." The person, and
offices, and love of the great Redeemer, the merits of his
obedience, and purchases of his cross, the victories of his
resurrection, the triumphs of his ascension and prevalence
of his intercession, the power of his Spirit, the greatness of
his salvation, the freeness of his grace, &c. ; these are to be
the chosen and delightful subjects of their discourses.
They are to represent him as one — who has completely
answered the demands of the law, rendered the Deity pro
pitious to the sinner, and upon this account is able eter
nally to save us from the vengeance of an offended God ; —
who is clothed with almighty power to subdue the inve
terate habits of sin, sanctify our polluted nature, and re
store us to spiritual health and purity; — who is Lord ofthe
visible and invisible worlds, who knows how to defeat the
most artful devices of Satan, and will finally render his
people victorious over their most malicious and implaca
ble adversaries ; — who having " made reconciliation for
iniquity" upon the cross, is pleading the merits of his blood
in heaven, and powerfully interceding for all suitable bless
ings in behalf of his people ; — " who is there exalted as a
Prince and a Saviour to give repentance and remission of
sins ;* and is able to save unlo the uttermost all those
that come to God in and through him ;"f — in fine, who
from his illustrious throne in glory stoops to look down
with pity upon guilty and perishing sinners, stretches forth
the sceptre of grace, and opens the everlasting arms of his
mercy to receive them.— These peculiar doctrines of the
gospel they are frequently to teach, upon these they are to
dwell with constant pleasure, that sinners may be per
suaded to hearken to the inviting voice of divine love, and
mt their trust in this almighty and compassionate Saviour.
n order to which,
3. They are to show sinners the mighty encouragement
that the gospel gives them to accept of Christ, and salva
tion through his merits and righteousness. As for igno
rant presumers, these hear the glad tidings of the gospel
with a fatal indifference ; and say in their hearts, " they
shall have peace," though they go on in their evil way,
stupidly " neglecting so great salvation," and regardless of
eternal things. But awakened minds are rather apt to draw
the darkest conclusions with respect to their case, and to
judge themselves excluded from the invitations of the
gospel. Sometimes they imagine, that the number and
aggravations of their sins exceed the designs of pardoning
mercy : — at other times, that they have so long resisted
the heavenly call, that now the gate of heaven is irrecover
ably barred against them :— and Satan further suggests,
that it would be the height of presumption in them to lay
claim to the blessings of the gospel, till better prepared for
the divine reception. Upon such imaginary and false
grounds as these, multitudes of the invited guests make
excuses, and exclude themselves from the " marriage-supper
of the Lamb." It is therefore the business of the servants of
Christ to show, that " there is yet room" even for the great
est and vilest sinners to come in, and partake of the gospel-
festival ; that " all things are now ready" for their welcome
entertainment ; — that the door is still open, and there is free
access, not only for those who have escaped the grossest
pollutions of the world, but even " for the chief of sinners,"
whose guilt is of a crimson colour and a scarlet dye ; that

E

o Acts V. 31.

t Heb. vii. 25.

neither the number nor aggravations of their iniquities will
exclude them a share in the divine mercy , if no w they submit
to the sceptre of grace ; — that whatever their condition and
circumstances may be, it is of present obligation upon them
to accept the gospel-call, and their instant duty to come in ;
the Master invites them " to come to him, that they may
have life ;" and " whosoever do so," the Master of the house
assures them, that " he will in no wise cast them out." %
4. They are to exhibit the unspeakable advantages that
will attend a compliance with the gospel-call. Iknow,
indeed, the religion of Jesus is by its enemies often repre
sented in the most frightful and hideous colours ; par
ticularly as laying an unreasonable restraint on the liberties
of mankind, and sinking them into melancholy enthusiasts.
It becomes us, therefore, who are " set for the defence of
the gospel," to endeavour the removing of this groundless
prejudice, and to convince mankind by the light of reason
and Scripture, that " the ways of wisdom are ways of
pleasantness, and all her paths are peace :" that verily a
life of faith in the blessed Redeemer is the way to be
happy,' both here and hereafter.
O what more honourable, than to be " a child of God,
an heir of the kingdom of heaven ?" What more pleasing,
than to look back, and beheld our past iniquities all buried
in the depths of eternal oblivion ; — than to look forward,
and view our dear Saviour acknowledging us his friends
and favourites, and adjudging us to a state of unperishing
glory ? What more advantageous, than to have the divine
favour engaged for our protection, the promises of divine
grace for our consolation ; and an assured title to " an in
heritance undefiled, incorruptible, and eternal ?" This is
the portion of the true believer. These the privileges that
attend a compliance with the gospel-call.
These things are to be represented in such a manner as
may tend to captivate the hearts of men, and engage them
in a solicitous care and resolution to renounce the degrad
ing servitude of sin, and resign themselves to the power of
redeeming grace. Thus by the most effectual and per
suasive methods, the ministers of Jesus are to compel sin
ners " to come in, that his house may be filled."
It was not in my design, to consider the duty of the
ministry in its just extent ; but only to insist upon those
things that more properly belong to my subject, and lie
directly in the view of my text — It will now doubtless be
expected that I apply my discourse more immediately
to the present occasion.
And suffer me, dear Sir, in the first place, to address my
self to you, who are this day coming under a public con
secration to the service of Christ, i " to bear his name
among the Gentiles ; to whom the Master is now sending
you forth, to compel them to come in, that his house may
be filled." We trust you are a chosen vessel, designed for
extensive service in this honourable, though difficult, em
ployment. We adore the God of nature, who has furnish
ed you with such endowments as suit you to this important
charge. We adore the great Head of the church for the
nobler gifts and graces of his Spirit ; by which, we trust,
you are enabled to engage in this mission with an ardent
love to God, the universal Father of mankind, with a dis
interested zeal for the honour of Christ, the compassionate
friend of sinners, and with tender concern for the perishing
souls of a " people that sit in darkness, and in the shadow
of death ;" who have for so many ages been wandering out
of the way of salvation, "without Christ, and without God
in the world."
The work of the ministry, in every place, has its diffi
culties and dangers, and requires much wisdom, fortitude,
patience, and self-denial, to discharge it in a right manner,
with an encouraging prospect of success : but greater de
grees of prudence, humility, and meekness, mortification
to the present worid, holy courage, and zeal for the honour
of God our Saviour, are necessary where any are called to
minister the gospel unto those, who through a long suc
cession of ages have dwelt in the darkness of heathenism,
have from their infancy imbibed inveterate prejudices
against the christian faith, and from time immemoria.
been inured to many superstitious and idolatrous practices,
directly opposite to the nature and design of the gospel.
J John vi. 37.

PEMBERTON'S SERMON AT BRAINERD'S ORDINATION.

44G
What heavenly skill is required, to convey the superna
tural mysteries of the gospel into the minds of uninstructed
I lagans, who are " a people of a strange speech and hard
anguage ! " — What deep self-denial is necessary, to enable
you cheerfully to forsake the pleasures of your native
country, with the agreeable society of your friends and
acquaintance, to dwell among those who inhabit not in
deed " the high-ways and hedges," but uncultivated de
serts, and the remotest recesses of the wilderness !—
What unwearied zeal and diligence, to proselyte those to the
faith ofthe gospel, who have quenched the light of reason,
and by their inhuman and barbarous practices have placed
themselves upon a level with the brute creation !
Methinks I hear you crying out, " Who is sufficient
for these things ? "—And indeed, if you had no strength to
depend upon but your own, — no encouragement but from
human assistance, you might justly sink down in despair,
and utter tlie passionate language of Moses, " O my Lord,
send, I pray thee, by the hand of him whom thou wilt
send ;" thy servant is insufficient for so great a work. — But
it is at the command of Christ, the great Head of the
church, that you go forth ; who by a train of surprising
providences, has been preparing your way for this im
portant embassy ; and therefore you may be assured, that
he will support you in the faithful discharge of your duty,
accept your unfeigned desires to promote the interests of
his kingdom, and finally reward your imperfect services
with his gracious approbation. You have his divine pro
mise for your security and consolation ; " Lo, I am with
you alway, even to the end of the world." This will af
ford you light in every darkness, defence in every danger,
strength in every weakness, and a final victory over every
temptation. If Christ be with you, " in vain do the heathen
rage," in vain will their confederated tribes unite their
forces to obstruct and discourage you. Infinite wisdom
will be your guide, almighty power your shield, and God
himself " your exceeding great reward." The presence of
your divine Master will make amends for the absence of
your dearest friends and relatives. This will transform a
wild and uncultivated desert into a paradise of joy and
pleasure, and the lonely huts of savages into more de
lightful habitations than the palaces of princes.
Let not then any difficulties discourage, any dangers af
fright you. Go forth in the name and strength of the Lord
Jesus, to whom you are now to be devoted in the sacred
office of the ministry. " Be not ashamed of the gospel of
Christ ; for it is the power of God unto salvation to every
one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.
Let zeal for the honour of God, and compassion for the
souls of men, animate your public discourses and private
addresses to the people committed to your charge. Always
remember, that your character is a minister qf Jesus ; and
therefore with the inspired doctor ofthe Gentiles, you " are
to know nothing among them, save Christ and him cruci
fied." Frequently consider, that the gospel is a divine dis
cipline to purify the heart, and set up the kingdom of the
Redeemer in the souls of men : and therefore it is not suf
ficient to bring sinners to a profession of the name of
Christ, and an outward subjection to the institutions of
divine worship : " You are sent to turn them from dark
ness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that
they may receive forgiveness of sins, and an inheritance
among them that are sanctified by faith that is in Christ."
Unless this be effected, (whatever other improvements they
gain,) they are left under the dominion of sin, and exposed
to the wrath of God ; and their superior degrees of know
ledge will only serve to light them down to the regions of
death and misery. This then is to be the principal design
of your ministry : for this you are to labour with un
wearied application, and with incessant importunity to
approach the throne of that God, whose peculiar preroga
tive it is " to teach us to profit;" whose grace alone can
make them " a willing people in the day of his power."
And for your encouragement, I will onlv add : When I
consider the many prophecies, in sacred Scripture, of the
triumphant progress of the gospel in the last ages of the
world, I cannot but lift up my head with joy, in an humble
expectation, that the day draws near, yea, is even at hand,

when the promises made to the Son of God shall be more
illustriously fulfilled ;— " when he shall have the heathen
for his inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for
his possession ; when his name shall be great among the
Gentiles, and be honoured and adored from the rising of the
sun to the going down of the same." But if the appointed
time is not yet come, and the attempts made to introduce
this glorious day fail of desired success, " your judgment
will be with the Lord, and your reward with your God."
If the Gentiles " be not gathered" in, you will " be
glorious in the eyes of the Lord," who accepts and re
wards his servants according to the sincerity of their desires,
and not according to the success of their endeavours.
I shall conclude with a few words to the body qf the
people. God our Saviour, in infinite condescension, hath
sent his servants to invite you to come in, and receive the
blessings which infinite wisdom has contrived, and astonish
ing grace prepared for your entertainment. And surely,
my brethren, it is your important duty and incomparable in
terest, not to despise " the salvation of God sent unto the
Gentiles," nor make light of the gospel-message to you.
God has been pleased to employ us the messengers of
his grace, men of like passions with yourselves, subject to
the common infirmities of human nature : but the message
comes from him, who is King of kings and Lord of lords ;
whom you are under the strongest obligations to hear and
obey, in point of interest, gratitude, and duty.
What gracious and condescending methods has he taken,
to allure and invite you ! Has he not descended from heaven
to earth, from the boundless glories of eternity to all the
sufferings and afflictions of this mortal life, that he might
fmrchase and reveal salvation ; that he might engage your
ove, and persuade you to comply with his saving designs ?
Does he not send his " ambassadors to beseech you in his
stead, to be reconciled to God ? "
What excuses have you to make, that will stand the trial
of an enlightened conscience, to justify you at the awful
tribunal of God ? will the vanishing enjoyments of sin
and sense, or the perishing riches of this transitory world,
make amends for the loss of the divine favour, or support
you under the terrors of eternal damnation ? — Are there
any honours comparable to the dignity and character of a
child of God, and a title to the privileges of his house
and family ? Are there any pleasures equal to the smiles
of God's reconciled face, the refreshing visits of his love,
and the immortal joys qf his salvation?
But how deplorable, now desperate will be your case, if
you finally refuse the gospel-invitation, and perish in your
natural state of guilt and misery ! The compassionate Jesus,
who now addresses you in the inviting language of love,
will then speak to you with the voice of terror, and " swear
in his wrath, that you shall never enter into his rest, that
you shall never taste of his supper," the rich provision
which he has made for the eternal entertainment of his
guests. " When once the Master of the house is risen up,
and hath shut to the door," you will in vain stand without,
and knock for admission.
In a word, Now, he declares by his servants, that " all
things are ready," and all that are bidden shall be welcome,
upon their coming in, to be partakers qf the benefit. The
blood of Christ is now ready to cleanse you from all your
guilt and pollution ; his righteousness is now ready to
adorn your naked souls with the garment of salvation ; his
Spirit is now ready to take possession of you, and make
you eternal monuments of victorious and redeeming grace.
" The Spirit and the bride say, Come ; and whosoever (of
the lost and perishing sons of Adam) will, let him come,"
and participate of the blessings of the gospel " freely,
without money, and without price." The arms of ever
lasting mercy are open to receive you; the treasures of
divine grace are open to supply your wants ; and every
one of you that now sincerely accepts this gracious invi
tation, shall hereafter be admitted " to sit down with
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven."
 For which, God of his infinite mercy prepare us all,
through Jesus Christ: to whom be glory and dominion
world without end. Amen.

SOME REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS

ON THE PEECI.D1N0

MEMOIRS, &c.
OF THE
REV. DAVID BRAINERD.

REFLECT. I.
We have here opportunity, as I apprehend, in a very
lively instance, to see the nature of true religion; and the
manner of its operation when exemplified in a high degree
and powerful exercise. Particularly it may be worthy to be
observed, Sect. I.
How greatly Mr. Brainerd's religion differed from that
of some pretenders to the experience of a clear work of
saving conversion wrought on their hearts ; who depending
and living on that, settle in a cold, careless, and carnal
frame of mind, and in a neglect of thorough, earnest re
ligion, in the stated practices of it ! Although his con
victions and conversion were in all respects exceeding clear,
and very remarkable ; yet how far was he from acting as
though he thought he had got through his work, when
once he had obtained comfort, and satisfaction of his in
terest in Christ, and title to heaven ! On the contrary,
that work on his heart, by which he was brought to this,
was with him evidently but the beginning qfhis work, his
first entering on the great business of religion and the
service of God, his first setting out in his race. His ob
taining rest of soul in Christ, alter earnest striving to enter
in at the strait gate, and being violent to take the kingdom
of heaven, he did not look upon as putting an end to any
further occasion for striving in religion ; but these were
continued still, and maintained constantly, through all
changes, to the very end of life. His work was not
finished, nor his race ended, till life was ended ; agreeable
to frequent scripture representations of the christian life.
He continued pressing forward in a constant manner,
forgetting the things that were behind, and reaching forth
towards tlie things that were before. His pains and
earnestness in the business of religion were rather in
creased, than diminished, after he had received comfort
and satisfaction concerning tlie safety of his state. Those
divine principles, by which after this he was actuated,
love to God, longings and thirstings after holiness, seem
to be more effectual to engage him to pains and activity in
religion, than fear of hell had been before.
And as his conversion was not the end of his work, or of
the course of his diligence and strivings in religion ; so
neither was it the end of the work ofthe Spirit of God on
his heart : but on the contrary, the beginning of the work ;
the beginning of his spiritual discoveries, and holy views ;
the first dawning of the light, which thenceforth increased
more and more ; the beginning of his holy affections, his
sorrow for sin, his love to God, his rejoicing in Christ
Jesus, his longing after holiness. And the powerful
operations of the Spirit of God in these things, were
carried on from the day of his conversion, in a continued
course, to his dying day. His religious experiences, his

admiration, his joy, praise, and flowing affections, did not
only hold up to a considerable height for a few days, weeks,
or months, at first, while hope and comfort were new
things witii him ; and then gradually dwindle and die
away, till they came to almost nothing, and so leave him
without any sensible or remarkable experience of spiritual
discoveries, or holy and divine affections, for months toge
ther ; as it is with many, who after the newness of things
is over, soon come to that pass, that it is again with them
very much as it used to be before their supposed conver
sion, with respect to any present views of God's glory, of
Christ's excellency, or of the beauty of divine things ; and
with respect to any present thirstings for God, or ardent
outgoings of their souls after divine objects : but only
now and then they have a comfortable reflection on past
things, and are somewhat affected with them : and so rest
easy, thinking all things are well ; they have had a good
clear work, and their state is safe, and they doubt not but
they shall go to heaven when they die. How far otherwise
was it with Mr. Brainerd, than it is with such persons !
His experiences, instead of dying away, were evidently of
an increasing nature. His first love, and other holy affec
tions, even at the beginning were very great ; but after
months and years, became much greater, and more re
markable ; and the spiritual exercises of his mind con
tinued exceeding great, (though not equally so at all times,
yet usually so,) without indulged remissness, and without
habitual dwindling and dying away, even till his decease.
They began in a time of general deadness all over the
land, and were greatly increased in a time of general
reviving of religion. And when religion decayed again,
and a general deadness returned, his experiences were still
kept up in their height, and his holy exercises maintained
in their life and vigour ; and so continued to be, in a
general course, wherever he was, and whatever his cir
cumstances were, among English and Indians, in company
and alone, in towns and cities, and in the howling wilder
ness, in sickness and in health, living and dying. This is
agreeable to scripture descriptions of true and right reli
gion, and of the christian life. The change wrought in
him at his conversion, was agreeable to scripture repre
sentations of that change which is wrought in true conver
sion ; a great change, and an abiding change, rendering
him a new man, a new creature : not only a change as to
hope and comfort, and an apprehension of . his own good
estate ; and a transient change, consisting in high flights
of passing affection ; but a change of nature, a change of
the abiding habit and temper of his mind. Not a partial
change, merely in point of opinion, or outward reforma
tion ; much less a change from one error to another, or
from one sin to another : but an universal change, both
internal and external ; as from corrupt and dangerous
principles in religion, unto the belief of the truth, so from
both the habits and the ways of sin, unto universal holi
ness of heart and practice; from the power and service of
Satan unto God.

448

REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS

Sect. II.

His religion did apparently and greatly differ from that
of many high pretenders to religion, who are frequently
actuated by vehement emotions of mind, and are carried on
in a course of sudden and strong impressions, and supposed
high illuminations and immediate discoveries, and at the
same time are persons of a virulent " zeal, not according
to knowledge.'
His convictions, preceding his conversion, did not arise
from any frightful impressions qf his imagination, or any
external images and ideas of fire and brimstone, a sword of
vengeance drawn, a dark pit open, devils in terrible
shapes, &c. strongly fixed on his mind. His sight of his
own sinfulness did not consist in any imagination of a
heap of loathsome material filthiness within him ; nor did
his sense of the hardness of his heart consist in any bodily
feeling in his breast of something hard and heavy like a
stone, nor in any imaginations whatever of such a nature.
His first discovery of God or Christ, at his conversion,
was not any strong idea of any external glory or bright
ness, or majesty and beauty of countenance, or pleasant
voice ; nor was it any supposed immediate manifestation
of God's love to him in particular ; nor any imagination
of Christ's smiling face, arms open, or words immediately
spoken to him, as by name, revealing Christ's love to
him ; either words of Scripture, or any other. But it was
a manifestation of God's glory, and the beauty of his
nature, as supremely excellent in itself; powerfully draw
ing, and sweetly captivating his heart ; bringing him to a
hearty desire to exalt God, set him on the throne, and give
him supreme honour and glory, as the King and Sovereign
of the universe : and also a new sense of the infinite
wisdom, suitableness, and excellency of the way of salva
tion by Christ; powerfully engaging his whole soul to
embrace this way of salvation, and to delight in it. His
first faith did not consist in believing that Christ loved
him, and died for him, in particular. His first comfort
was not from any secret suggestion of God's eternal love
to him, or that God was reconciled to him, or intended
great mercy for him ; by any such texts as these, " Son,
be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee. Fear not, I
am thy God," &c. or in any such way. On the contrary,
when God's glory was first discovered to him, it was
without any thought of salvation as his own. His first
experience of the sanctifying and comforting power of
God's Spirit did not begin in some bodily sensation, any
pleasant warm feeling in his breast, that some would have
called the feeling the love of Christ in him, and being full
of the Spirit. How exceeding far were his experiences at
his first conversion from all things of such a nature !
And if we look through the whole series of his expe
riences, from his conversion to his death, we shall find
none of this kind. I have had occasion to read his diary
over and over, and very particularly and critically to
review every passage in it ; and I find no one instance of a
strong impression on his imagination, through his whole
life ; no instance of a strongly impressed idea of any exter
nal glory and brightness, of any bodily form or shape, any
beautiful majestic countenance. There is no imaginary
sight of Christ hanging on the cross with his blood stream
ing from his wounds ; or seated in heaven on a bright
throne, with angels and saints bowing before him ; or with
a countenance smiling on him ; or arms open to embrace
him : no sight of heaven, in his imagination, with gates of
pearl, and golden streets, and vast multitudes of glorious
inhabitants, with shining garments. There is no sight ofthe
book of life opened, with his name written in it; no
hearing of the sweet music made by the songs of heaven
ly hosts : no hearing God or Christ immediately speaking to
him ; nor any sudden suggestions of words or sentences,
either of Scripture or any other, as then immediately spoken
or sent to him : no new objective revelations, no sudden
strong suggestions of secret facts. Nor do I find any one
instance in all the records he has left of his own life, from
beginning to end, of joy excited from a supposed immedi
ate witness of the Spirit"; or inward immediate suggestion,
that his state was surely good, that God loved him with an
everlasting love, that Christ died for him in particular,

and that heaven was his ; either with or without a text of
Scripture. There is no instance of comfort by a sudden
bearing in upon his mind, as though at that very time di
rected by God to him in particular, any such kind of texts
as these ; " Fear not, I am with thee ; — It is your Father's
good pleasure to give you the kingdom ; — You have not
chosen me, but I have chosen you ; — I have called thee by
thy name, thou art mine ; — Before thou wast formed in the
belly, I knew thee," &c. There is no supposed com
munion and conversation with God carried on in this way;
nor any such supposed tasting of the love of Christ.
But the way he was satisfied of his own good estate, even
to the entire abolishing of fear, was by feeling within him
self the lively actings of a holy temper and heavenly dis
position, the vigorous exercises of that divine love which
casteth out fear. This was the way he had full satisfaction
soon after his conversion ; (see his diary on October 18,
and 19, 1740;) and we find no other way of satisfaction
through his whole life afterwards : and this he abundantly
declared to be the way, the only way, that he had complete
satisfaction, when he looked death in the face, in its near
approaches. Some of the pretenders to an immediate witness by sug
gestion, and defenders of it, with an assuming confidence
would bear us in hand, that there is no full assurance
without it ; and that the way of being satisfied by signs,
and arguing an interest in Christ from sanctification, if it
will keep men quiet in life and health, yet will never do
when they come to die. Then, they say, men must have
immediate witness, or else be in a dreadful uncertainty.
But Mr. Brainerd's experience is a confutation of this ; for
in him we have an instance of one that possessed as con
stant, as unshaken an assurance, through the course of his
life, after conversion, as perhaps can be produced in this
age ; which yet he obtained and enjoyed without any such
sort of testimony, and without all manner of appearance of
it, or pretence to it ; yea, while utterly disclaiming any
such thing, and declaring against it. His assurance, we
need not scruple to affirm, has as fair a claim, and as just
a pretension to truth and genuineness, as any that the pre
tenders to immediate witness can produce. And he is not
only an instance of one that had such assurance in life,
but had it in a constant manner in his last illness ; and
particularly in the latter stages of it, through those last
months of his life wherein death was more sensibly ap
proaching, without the least hope of life. He had it too in
its fulness, and in the height of its exercise, under repeat
ed trials, in this space of time ; when brought from time
to time to the very brink of the grave, expecting in a few
minutes to be in eternity. He had " the full assurance of
hope unto the end." When on the verge of eternity, he then
declared his assurance to be such as perfectly excluded
all fear. And not only so, but it manifestly filled his soul
with exceeding joy ; he declaring at the same time, that
this his consolation and good hope through grace, arose
wholly from the evidence he had of his good estate, by
what he found of his sanctification, or the exercise of a
holy heavenly temper of mind, supreme love to God, &c.
and not in the least from any immediate witness by sug
gestion. Yea, he declares that at these very times he saw
the awful delusion of that confidence which is built on
such a foundation, as well as of the whole of that religion
which it usually springs from, or at least is the attendant
of; and that his soul abhorred those delusions : and he
continued in this mind, often expressing it with much
solemnity, even till death. Sect. III.
Mr. Brainerd's religion was not selfish and mercenary :
his love to God was primarily and principally for the su
preme excellency of nis own nature, and not built on, a
preconceived notion that God loved him, had received him
into favour, and had done great things for him, or promised
great things to him. His joy was joy in God, and not in
himself. We see by his diary how, from time to time,
through the course of his life, nis soul was filled with in
effable sweetness and comfort. But what was the spring
of this strong and abiding consolation ? Not so much the
consideration of the sure grounds he had to think that his

ON BRAINERD'S MEMOIRS, &r.

449

state was good, that God had delivered him from hell, and
that heaven was his ; or any thoughts concerning his own
distinguished happy and exalted circumstances, as a high
favourite of Heaven : but the sweet meditations and en
tertaining views he had of divine things without himself;
the affecting considerations and lively ideas of God's in
finite glory, his unchangeable blessedness, his sovereignty
and universal dominion ; together with the sweet exercises
of love to God, giving himself up to him, abasing himself
before him, denying himself for him, depending upon him,
acting for his glory, diligently serving him ; and the pleas
ing prospects or hopes he had of a future advancement of
the kingdom of Christ, &c.
It appears plainly and abundantly all along, from his
conversion to his death, that the beauty, that sort of good,
which was the great object of the new sense of his mind,
the new relish and appetite given him in conversion, and
thenceforward maintained and increased in his heart, was
holiness, conformity to God, living to God, and glorify
ing him. This was what drew his heart; this was the
centre of his soul ; this was the ocean to which all the
streams of his religious affections tended ; this was the
object that engaged his eager thirsting desires and earnest
pursuits. He knew no true excellency, or happiness, but
this ; this was what he longed for most vehemently and
constantly on earth ; and this was with him the beauty
and blessedness of heaven. This made him so much and
so often to long for that world of glory : it was to be perfect
ly holy, and perfectly exercised in the holy employments of
heaven ; thus, " to glorify God, and enjoy him for ever."
His religious illuminations, affections, and comfort,
seemed, to a great degree, to be attended with evangelical
humiliation ; consisting in a sense of his own utter insuf
ficiency, despicableness, and odiousness ; with an answer
able disposition and frame of heart. How deeply affected
was he almost continually with his great defects in reli
gion ; with his vast distance from that spirituality and holy
frame of mind that became him ; with his ignorance, pride,
deadness, unsteadiness, barrenness ! He was not only
affected with the remembrance of his former sinfulness,
before his conversion, but with the sense of his present
vileness and pollution. He was not only disposed to
think meanly of himself as before God, and in comparison
of him; but amongst men, and as compared with them.
He was apt to think other saints better than he ; yea, to look
on himself as the meanest and least of saints ; yea, very
often, as the vilest and worst of mankind. And notwith
standing his great attainments in spiritual knowledge, yet
we find there is scarce any thing, with a sense of which he
is more frequently affected and abased, than his ignorance.
How eminently did he appear to be of a meek and quiet
spirit, resembling the lamb-like, dove-like Spirit of Jesus
Christ ! How full of love, meekness, quietness, forgive
ness, and mercy ! His love was not merely a fondness
and zeal for a party, but an universal benevolence; very
often exercised in the most sensible and ardent love to his
greatest opposers and enemies. His love and meekness
were not a mere pretence, and outward profession and
show ; but they were effectual things, manifested in ex
pensive and painful deeds of love and kindness ; and in a
meek behaviour ; readily confessing faults under the
greatest trials, and humbling himself even at the feet of
those from whom he supposed he had suffered most ; and
from time to time very frequently praying for his ene
mies, abhorring the thoughts of bitterness or resentment
towards them. I scarcely know where to look for any
parallel instance of self-denial, in these respects, in the
present age. He was a person of great zeal ; but how did
he abhor a bitter zeal, and lament it where he saw it ! And
though he was once drawn into some degrees of it, by the
force of prevailing example, as it were in his childhood ;
yet how did he go about with a heart bruised and broken
in pieces for it all his life after !
Of how soft and tender a spirit was he ! How far were
his experiences, hopes, and joys, from a tendency finally to
stupify and harden him, to lessen convictions and tender
ness of conscience, to cause him to be less affected with
present and past sins, and less conscientious with respect to
future sins ! How far were they from making him more easy,
in neglect of duties that are troublesome' and inconvenient,
vol. 11. 2 c

more slow and partial in complying with difficult com
mands, less apt to be alarmed at the appearance of his
own defects and transgressions, more easily induced to a
compliance with carnal appetites ! On the contrary, how
tender was his conscience i how apt was his heart to smite
him ! how easily and greatly was he alarmed at the appear
ance of moral evil 1 how great and constant was his
jealousy over his own heart ! how strict his care and watch
fulness against sin ! how deep and sensible were the
wounds mat sin made in his conscience ! Those evils that
are generally accounted small, were almost an insupport
able burden to him ; such as his inward deficiencies, his
having no more love to God, finding within himself any
slackness or dulness in religion, any unsteadiness, or wan
dering frame of mind, &c. how did the consideration of
such things as these oppress and abase him, and fill him
with inward shame and confusion ! His love and hope,
though they were such as cast out a servile fear of hell,
yet were attended with, and abundantly cherished and
promoted, a reverential filial fear of God, _ dread of sin
and of God's holy displeasure. His joy seemed truly to
be a rejoicing with trembling. His assurance and comfort
differed greatly from a false enthusiastic confidence and
joy, in that it promoted and maintained mourning for sin.
Holy mourning, with him, was not only the work of an
hour or a day, at his first conversion ; but sorrow for sin
was like a wound constantly running ; he was a mourner
for sin all his days. He did not, after he received comfort
and full satisfaction of the forgiveness of all his sins, and
the safety of his state, forget his past sins, the sins of his
youth, committed before his conversion ; but the remem
brance of them, from time to time, revived in his heart,
with renewed grief. That passage (Ezek. xvi. 63.) was
evidently fulfilled in him, " That thou mayest remember,
and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more,
because of thy shame ; when I am pacified toward thee
for all that thou hast done." And how lastingly did the
sins he committed after his conversion affect and break his
heart ! If he did any thing whereby he thought he had in
any respect dishonoured God, and wounded the interest of
religion, he had never done with calling it to mind with
sorrow and bitterness ; though he was assured that God
had forgiven it, yet he never forgave himself: his past
sorrows and fears made no satisfaction, with him ; but
still the wound renews and bleeds afresh, again and again .
And his present sins, those he daily found in himself, were
an occasion of daily sensible and deep sorrow of heart.
His religion did not consist in unaccountable_?i^A/.s and
vehement pangs ; suddenly rising, and suddenly falling ;
at times exalted almost to the third heavens, and then
negligent, vain, carnal, and swallowed up with the world,
for days and weeks, if not months together. His religion
was not like a blazing meteor, or like a flaming comet, (or
a wandering star, as the apostle Jude calls it, ver. 1 3.) fly
ing through the firmament with a bright train, and then
quickly departing into perfect darkness ; but more like the
steady lights of heaven, constant principles of light, though
sometimes hid with clouds. Nor like a land-flood, which
flows far and wide with a rapid stream, bearing down all
before it, and then dries up ; but more like a stream fed
by living springs ; which though sometimes increased by
showers, and at other times diminished by drought, vet is
a constant stream.
His religious affections and joys were not like those of
some, who have rapture and mighty emotions from time to
time in company ; but have very little affection in retire
ment and secret places. Though he was of a very sociable
temper, and loved the company of saints, and delighted
very much in religious conversation, and in social worship ; -
yet his warmest affections, and their greatest effects on
animal nature, and his sweetest joys, were in his closet
devotions, and solitary transactions between God and his
own soul : as is very observable through his whole course,
from his conversion to his death. He delighted greatly in
sacred retirements ; and loved to get quite away from all
the world, to converse with God alone, in secret duties.
Mr. Brainerd's experiences and comforts were very far
from being like those of some persons, which are attended
with a spiritual satiety, and which put an end to their re
ligious desires and longings, at least to the edge and ardency

450

REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS

of them; resting satisfied in their own attainments and
comforts, as having obtained their chief end, which is to
extinguish their fears of hell, and give them confidence of
the favour of God. How far were his religious affections,
refreshments, and satisfactions, from such an operation
and influence! On the contrary, how were they always
attended with longings and thirstings after greater degrees
of conformity to God ! And the greater and sweeter his
comforts were, the more vehement were his desires after
holiness. For it is to be observed, that his longings were
not so much after joyful discoveries of God's love, and
clear views of his title to future advancement and eternal
honours in heaven; as after more of present holiness,
greater spirituality, a heart more engaged for God, to
love, and exalt, and depend on him. His longings were
for ability to serve God better, to do more for his glory,
and to do all that he did with more of a regard to Christ
as his righteousness and strength ; and after the enlarge
ment and advancement of Christ's kingdom in the earth.
And his desires were not idle wishings, but such as were
powerful and effectual, to animate him to the earnest, eager
pursuit of these things, with utmost diligence and unfaint-
mg labour and self-denial. His comforts never put an end
to his seeking after God, and striving to obtain his grace ;
but, on the contrary, greatly engaged him therein.
Sect. IV.
His religion did not consist in experience without prac
tice. All nis inward illuminations, affections, and com
forts, seemed to have a direct tendency to practice, and to
issue in it : and this, not merely a practice negatively good,
free from gross acts of irreligion and immorality ; but a
practice positively holy and Christian, in a serious, devout,
humble, meek, merciful, charitable, and beneficent con
versation ; making the service of God, and our Lord Jesus
Christ, the great business of life, to which he was devoted,
and which he pursued with the greatest earnestness and
diligence to the end of his days, through all trials. In him
was to be seen the right way of being lively in religion.
His liveliness in religion did not consist merely, or mainly,
in his being lively with the tongue, but in deed; not in
being forward in profession and outward show, and abun
dant in declaring his own experiences ; but chiefly in being
active and abundant in the labours and duties of religion ;
" not slothful in business, but fervent in spirit, serving the
Lord, and serving his generation, according to the will of
God." By these things, many high pretenders to religion, and
professors of extraordinary spiritual experience, may be
sensible, that Mr. Brainerd did greatly condemn their kind
of religion ; and that not only in word, but by example,
both living and dying ; as the whole series of his christian
experience and practice, from his conversion to his death,
appears a constant condemnation of it.
it cannot be objected, that the reason why he so much
disliked the religion of these pretenders, and why his own
so much differed from it, was, that his experiences were
not clear. There is no room to say, they were otherwise,
in any respect, in which clearness of experience has been
wont to be insisted on ; whether it be the clearness of their
nature or of their order, and the method his soul was at
first brought to rest and comfort in his conversion. I am
far from thinking, and so was he, that clearness of the
order of experiences is, in any measure, of equal import
ance with the clearness of their nature. I have sufficiently
declared in my discourse on Religious Affections, (which he
expressly approved of and recommended,) that I do not
suppose a sensible distinctness of the steps of the Spirit's
operation and method of successive convictions and illu
minations, is a necessary requisite to persons being re
ceived in full charity, as true saints ; provided the nature
of the things they profess be right, and their practice
agreeable. Nevertheless, it is observable, (which cuts off
all objection from such as would be most unreasonably
disposed to object and cavil in the present case,) that Mr.
Brainerd's experiences were not only clear in the latter
respect, but remarkably so in the former : so that there is
not perhaps one instance in five hundred true converts,
that on this account can be paralleled with him.

It cannot oe pretended, that the reason why he so much
abhorred and condemned the notions and experiences of
those whose first faith consists in believing that Christ is
theirs, and that Christ died for them ; without any pre
vious experience of union of heart to him, for his excel
lency, as he is in himself, and not for his supposed love to
them — and who judge of their interest in Christ, their jus
tification, and God's love to them, not by their sanctifica
tion, and the exercises and fruits of grace, but by a
supposed immediate witness of the Spirit, by inward sug
gestion — was, that he was of a too legal spirit ; either that
he never was dead to the law, never experienced a
thorough work of conviction, was never fully brought off
from his own righteousness, and weaned from the old
covenant, by a thorough legal humiliation ; or that after,
wards, he had no great degree of evangelical humiliation,
not living in a deep sense of his own emptiness, wretch
edness, poverty, and absolute dependence on the mere
grace of God through Christ. For his convictions of sin,
preceding his first consolations in Christ, were exceeding
deep and thorough ; his trouble and exercise of mind, by
a sense of sin and misery, very great, and long continued ;
and the light let into his mind at his conversion, and in
progressive sanctification, appears to have had its genuine
humbling influence upon him, to have kept him low in
his own eyes, not confiding in himself, but in Christ,
" living by the faith of the Son of God, and looking for the
mercy ofthe Lord Jesus to eternal life."
Nor can it be pretended, that the reason why he con
demned these and other things, which this sort of people
call the very height of vital religion and the power of god
liness, was, that he was a dead Christian, and lived in the
dark (as they express themselves) ; that his experiences,
though they might be true, were not great ; that he did
not live near to God, had but a small acquaintance with
him, and had but a dim sight of spiritual things. If any,
after they have read the preceding account of Mr. Brain
erd's life, will venture to pretend thus, they will only show
that they themselves are in the dark, and do indeed " put
darkness for light, and light for darkness."
It is common with this sort of people, if there are any
whom they cannot deny to exhibit good evidences of true
godliness, who yet appear to dislike their notions — and
who condemn those things wherein they place the height
of religion — to insinuate, that they are afraid ofthe cross,
and have a mind to curry favour with the world, and the
like. But I presume this will not be pretended concern
ing Mr. Brainerd, by any one person that has read the
preceding account of his life. It must needs appear a
thing notorious to such, that he was an extraordinary, and
almost unparalleled, instance (in these times, and these
parts of the world) of the contrary disposition ; and that,
whether we consider what he has recorded of his inward
experience, from time to time ; or his practice, how he in
fact took up and embraced the cross, and bore it constantly,
in his great self-denials, labours, and sufferings for the
name of Jesus, 'and went on without fainting, without re
pining, to his dying illness : how he did not only, from
time to time, relinquish and renounce the world secretly,
in his heart, with the full and fervent consent of all the
powers of his soul ; but openly and actually forsook the
world, with its possessions, delights, and common com
forts, to dwell as it were with wild beasts, in a howling
wilderness ; with constant cheerfulness complying with
the numerous hardships of a life of toil and travel there, to
promote the kingdom of his dear Redeemer. Besides, it
appears by the preceding history, that he never did more
condemn the things forementioned, never had a greater
sense of their delusion, pernicious nature, and ill tendency,
and never was more fuli of pity to those that are led away
with them, than in his last illness, and at times when he had
the nearest prospect of death, supposed himself to be on
the very brink of eternity. Surely he did not condemn ,
those things at these seasons, only to curry favour, with
the world. Sect. V.
Besides what has been already related of Mr. Brainerd's
sentiments in his dying state concerning true and false re-

ON BRAINERD'S MEMOIRS, &c.

451

ligion, we have his deliberate and solemn thoughts on this
subject, further appearing by his preface to Mr. Shepard's
diary, before mentioned ; which, when he wrote it, he
supposed to be (as it proved) one of the lust things he
should ever write. I shall here insert a part of that pre
face, as follows :
" How much stress is laid by many upon some things
as being effects and evidences of exalted degrees of religion,
when they are so far from being of any importance in it,
lhat they are really irreligious, a mixture of self-love, ima-
fination, and spiritual pride, or perhaps the influence of
atan transformed into an angel of light ; I say, how much
stress is laid on these things by many, I shall not deter
mine : but it is much to be feared, that while God was
carrying on a glorious work of grace, and undoubtedly ga
thering a harvest of souls to himself, (which we should
always remember with thankfulness,) numbers of others
have at the same time been fatally deluded by the devices
of the devil, and their own corrupt hearts. It is to be
feared, that the conversions of some have no better founda
tion than this ; viz. that after they have been under some
concern for their souls for a while, and, it may be, manifest
ed some very great and uncommon distress and agonies,
they have on a sudden imagined they saw Christ, in some
posture or other, perhaps on the cross, bleeding and dying
for their sins ; or it may be, smiling on them, and thereby
signifying his love to them : and that these and the like
things, though mere imaginations, which have nothing
spiritual in them, have instantly removed all their fears
and distresses, filled them with raptures of joy, and made
them imagine, that they loved Christ with all their hearts ;
when the bottom of all was nothing but self-love. For
when they imagined that Christ had been so good to them
as to save them, and as it were to single them out of all
the world, they could not but feel some kind of natural
gratitude to him ; although they never had any spiritual
view of his divine glory, excellency, and beauty, and con
sequently never had any love to him for himself. Or that
instead of having some such imaginary view of Christ as has
been mentioned, in order to remove their distress, and
give them joy, some having had a passage, or perhaps
many passages, of Scripture brought to their minds with
power, (as they express it,) such as that, " Son, be of good
cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee," and the like, they have
immediately applied these passages to themselves, suppos
ing that God hereby manifested his peculiar favour to them,
as if mentioned by name ; never considering, that they are
now giving heed to new revelations, there being no such
thing revealed in the word of God, as that this or that parti
cular person has, or ever shall have,his sins forgiven ; nor yet
remembering, that Satan can, with a great deal of seeming
pertinency, (and perhaps also with considerable power,)
bring Scripture to the minds of men, as he did to Christ
himself. And thus these rejoice upon having some scrip
ture suddenly suggested to them, or impressed upon their
minds, supposing they are now the children of God, just
as did the other upon their imaginary views of Christ.
And it is said that some speak of seeing a great light
which filled all the place where they were, and dispelled
all their darkness, fears, and distresses, and almost ravish
ed their souls. While others have had it warmly suggested
to their minds, not by any passage of Scripture, but as it
were by a whisper or voice from heaven, " That God loves
them, that Christ is theirs," &c. which groundless imagi
nations and suggestions of Satan have had the same effect
upon them, that the delusions before mentioned had on
the others. And as is the conversion of this sort of persons,
so are their after experiences ; the whole being built upon
imagination, strong impressions, and sudden suggestions
made to their minds ; whence they are usually extremely
confident (as if immediately informed from God) not only
of the goodness of their own state, but of their infallible
knowledge, and absolute certainty, of the truth of every
thing they pretend to, under the notion of religion ; and
thus all reasoning with some of them is utterly excluded.
" But it is remarkable of these, that they are extremely
deficient in regard of true poverty of spirit, a sense of ex
ceeding vileness in themselves, such as frequently makes
truly gracious souls to groan, being burdened ; as also in
regard of meekness, love; gentleness towards mankind,
2 c 2

and tenderness of conscience in their ordinary affairs and
dealings in the world. And it is rare to see them deeply
concerned about the principles and ends of their actions,
and under fears lest they should not eye the glory of God
chiefly, but live to themselves ; or this at least is the case
in their ordinary conduct, whether civil or religious. But
if any one of their particular notions, which their zeal has
espoused, be attacked, they are then so conscientious,
they must bum, if called to it, for its defence. Yet at the
same time, when they are so extremely deficient in regard
of these precious divine tempers which have been men
tioned, they are usually full of zeal, concern, and fervency
in the things of religion, and often discourse of them with
much warmth and engagement : and to those who do hot
know, or do not consider, wherein the essence of true re
ligion consists — viz. in being conformed to the image of
Christ, not in point of zeal and fervency only, but in all
divine tempers and practices — they often appear like the
best of men."
It is common with this sort of people to say, that
" God is amongst them, his Spirit accompanies their ex
hortations, and other administrations, and they are sealed
by the Holy Ghost," in the remarkable success they have,
in the great affections that are stirred up in God's people,
&c. but to insinuate, on the contrary, that " he is not with
their opponents ;" and particularly, " that God has for
saken the standing ministry ; and that the time is come,
when it is the will of God that they should be put down,
and that God's people should forsake them ; and that no
more success is to be expected to attend their administra
tions." — But where can they find an instance among all
their most flaming exhorters, who has been sealed with so
incontestable and wonderful success of his labours, as Mr.
Brainerd, not only in quickening and comforting God's
children, but also in a work of conviction and conversion,
(which they own has in a great measure ceased for a long
time among themselves,) with a most visible and astonish
ing manifestation of God's power ? And this was on sub
jects extremely unprepared, and who had been brought u p
and lived, some of them to old age, in the deepest preju
dices against the very first principles of Christianity ; and
yet we find the divine power accompanying his labours,
producing the most remarkable and abiding change, turn
ing the wilderness into a fruitful field, and causing that
which was a desert indeed to bud and blossom as the
rose ! And this, although he was not only one of their
greatest opponents in their errors ; but also one of those
they call the standing minist/y ; first examined and licensed
to preach by such ministers, and sent forth among the hea
then by such ministers; and afterwards ordained by such
ministers ; always directed by them, and united with them
in their consistories and administrations : and even abhor
ring the practice of those who give out, that they ought to
be renounced, and separated from, and that teachers may
be ordained by laymen.
It cannot be pretended by these men that Mr. Brainerd
condemned their religion, only because he was not ac
quainted with them, and had not opportunity for full ob
servation of the nature, operation, and tendency of their
experiences ; for he had abundant and peculiar opportuni
ties of such observation and acquaintance. He lived
through the late extraordinary time of religious commo
tion, and saw the beginning and end, the good and the
bad of it. He had opportunity to see the various opera
tions and effects that were wrought in this season, more
extensively than any person I know of. His native place
was about the middle of Connecticut ; and he was much
conversant in all parts of that colony. He was conversant
in the eastern parts of it, after the religion which he con
demned began much to prevail there. He was conversant
with the zealous people on Long Island, from one end of
the island to the other ; and also in New Jersey and Penn
sylvania ; with people of various nations. He had spe
cial opportunities in some places in this province, (Mas
sachusetts Bay,) where there has been very much of this
sort of religion, and at a time when it greatly prevailed.
He had conversed and disputed with abundance of this
kind of people in various parts, as he told me; and also
informed me, that he had seen something of the same ap
pearances in some of the Indians, to whom he had

452

REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS

preached, and had opportunity to see the beginning and
end of them. Besides, Mr. Brainerd could speak more
feelingly concerning these things, because there was once
a time when he was drawn away into an esteem of them,
and for a short season had united himself to this kind
of people, and partook, in some respects, of their spirit
and behaviour.— But I proceed lo another observation on
the foregoing Memoirs.

REFLECT. II.

This history of Mr. Brainerd's may help us to make
distinctions among the high religious affections, and re
markable impressions made on the minds of persons, in a
time of great awakening, and revival qf religion ; and
may convince us, that there are not only distinctions in
theory, invented to save the credit of pretended revivals
of religion, and what is called the experience of the ope
rations of the Spirit ; but distinctions that do actually
take place in the course of events, and have a real and evi
dent foundation in fact.
Many do and will confound things, blend all together,
and say, " It is all alike ; it is all of the same sort." So
there are many that say concerning the religion most ge
nerally prevailing among the Separatists, and the affec
tions they manifest, " It is the same that was all over the
land seven years ago." And some that have read Mr.
Brainerd's Journal, giving an account ofthe extraordinary
things that have come to pass among the Indians in New
Jersey, say, " It is evidently the same thing that appear
ed in many places amongst the English, which has now
proved naught, and come to that which is worse than no
thing." And all the reason they have thus to determine
all to be the same work, and the same spirit, is, that the
one manifested high affections, and so do the other ; the
great affections of the one had some influence on their
bodies, and so have the other ; the one use the terms con
viction, conversion, humiliation, coming to Christ, disco
veries, experiences, &c. and so do the other ; the impres
sions on the one are attended with a great deal of zeal,
and so it is with the other ; the affections of the one dis
pose them to speak much about things of religion, and so
do the other ; the one delight much in religious meetings,
and so do the other. The agreement that appears in these,
and such like things, make them conclude, that surely all
is alike, all is the same work. Whereas, on a closer in
spection and critical examination, it would appear, that
notwithstanding an agreement in such circumstances, yet
indeed there is a vast difference, both in essence and
fruits. A considerable part of the religious operations
that were six or seven years ago, especially towards the
latter part of that extraordinary season, was doubtless
of the same sort with the religion of the Separatists ; but
not all : there were many, whose experiences were, like
Mr. Brainerd's, in a judgment of charity, genuine and in
contestable. Not only do the opposers of all religion consisting in
powerful operations and affections, thus confound things;
but many of the pretenders to such religion do so. They
who have been the subjects of some sort of vehement,
but vain operations on their mind, when they hear the re
lation of the experiences of some real and eminent Chris
tians, say, that their experiences are of the same sort :
and that they are just like the experiences of eminent
Christians in former times, of which we have printed ac
counts. So, I doubt not, but there are many deluded
people, if they should read the preceding account of Mr.
Brainerd's life, who, reading without much understand
ing, or careful observation, would say, without hesitation,
that some things which they have met with, are of the
very same kind with what he expresses : when the agree
ment is only in some general circumstances, or some par
ticular things that are superficial, and belonging as it were
to the profession and outside of religion ; but the inward
temper of mind, and the fruits in practice, are as opposite
and distaut as east and west.
Many honest, good people also, and true Christians, do
not very well know how to make a difference. The glis

tering appearance of false religion dazzles their eyes ; and
they sometimes are so deluded by it, that they look on
some of these impressions, which hypocrites tell of, as the
brightest experiences. And though they have experienced
no such things themselves, they think," it is because they
are vastly lower in attainments, and but babes, in compa
rison of these flaming Christians. Yea, sometimes from
their differing so much from those who make so great a
show, they doubt whether they have any grace at all. And
it is a hard thing, to bring many well-meaning people to
make proper distinctions in this case ; and especially to
maintain and stand by them. — Through a certain weakness
under which they unhappily labour, they are liable to be
overcome with the glare of outward appearances. Thus, if
in a sedate hour they are by reasoning brought to allow
such and such distinctions, yet the next time they come in
the way of the great show of false religion, the dazzling
appearance swallows them up, and they are earned away.
Thus the devil by his cunning artifices, easily dazzles the
feeble sight of men, and puts them beyond a capacity of
a proper exercise of consideration, or hearkening to the
dictates of calm thought, and cool understanding. When
they perceive the great affection, earnest talk, strong voice,
assured looks, vast confidence, and bold assertions, of these
empty assuming pretenders, they are overborne, lose the
possession of their judgment, and say, " Surely these men
are in the right, God is with them of a truth : " and so
thev are carried away, not with light and reason, but, like
children, as it were with a strong wind.
This confounding of all things together, that have a fair
show, is but acting the part of a child, that going into a
shop, where a variety of wares are exposed to sale — all of
a shining appearance ; vessels of gold and silver ; diamonds
and other precious stones ; toys of little value, which are
of some base metal gilt ; glass polished and painted with
curious colours, or cut like diamonds, &c. — should es
teem all alike, and give as great a price for the vile as for
the precious. Or it is like the conduct of some unskilful,
rash person, who, finding himself deceived by some of the
wares he had bought at that shop, should at once con
clude all he there saw was of no value ; and pursuant to
such a conclusion, when afterwards he has true gold and
diamonds offered him, enough to enrich him and enable
him to live like a prince all his days, he should throw it
all into the sea.
But we must get into another way. The want of dis
tinguishing in things that appertain to experimental reli
gion, is one of the chief miseries of the professing world.
It is attended with very many most dismal consequences :
multitudes of souls are fatally deluded about themselves,
and their own state ; and thus are eternally undone. Hy
pocrites are confirmed in their delusions, and exceedingly
puffed up with pride ; many sincere Christians are dread
fully perplexed, darkened, tempted, and drawn aside from
the way of duty ; and sometimes sadly tainted with false
religion, to the great dishonour of Christianity, and hurt of
their own souls. Some of the most dangerous and perni
cious enemies of religion in the world (though called bright
Christians) are encouraged and honoured ; who ought to
be discountenanced and shunned by every body : and
prejudices are begotten and confirmed in vast multitudes,
against every thing wherein the power and essence of god
liness consists ; and in the end deism and atheism are
promoted.

REFLECT. III.

The foregoing account of Mr. Brainerd's life may afford
matter of conviction, that there is indeed such a thing as
true experimental religion, arising from immediate divine
influences, supernaturally enlightening and convincing the
mind, and powerfully impressing, quickening, sanctifying,
and governing the heart ; which religion is indeed an ami
able thing, of happy tendency, and of no hurtful conse
quence to human society; notwithstanding there having
been so many pretences and appearances of what is called
experimental, vital religion, that have proved to be nothing
but vain, pernicious enthusiasm.

ON BRAINERD'S MEMOIRS, &c.

453

If any insist, that Mr. Brainerd's religion was enthusi
asm, and nothing but a strange heat and blind fervour of
mind, arising from strong fancies, &c. I would ask, What
were the fruits of his enthusiasm ? In him we behold a
great degree of honesty and simplicity, sincere and earnest
desires and endeavours to know and do whatever is right,
and to avoid every thing that is wrong ; a high degree of love
to God, delight in the perfections of nis nature, placing the
happiness of life in him ; not only in contemplating him,
but in being active in pleasing and serving him ; a firm
and undoubting belief in the Messiah, as the Saviour of
the world, the great Prophet of God, and King of God's
church ; together with great love to him, delight and com
placence in the way of salvation by him, and longing for
the enlargement of his kingdom ; earnest desires that God
may be glorified and the Messiah's kingdom advanced,
whatever instruments are employed ; uncommon resigna
tion to the will of God, and that under vast trials ; great
and universal benevolence to mankind, reaching all sorts
of persons without distinction, manifested in sweetness of
speech and behaviour, kind treatment, mercy, liberality,
and earnest seeking the good of the souls and bodies of
men. And all this we behold attended with extraordinary
humility, meekness, forgiveness of injuries, and love to
enemies ; and a great abhorrence of a contrary spirit and
practice ; not only as appearing in others, but whereinso
ever it had appeared in himself ; causing the most bitter
repentance, and brokenness of heart on account of any past
instances of such a conduct. In him we see a modest,
discreet, and decent deportment, among superiors, infe
riors, and equals ; a most diligent improvement of time,
and earnest care to lose no part of it ; great watchfulness
against all sorts of sin, of heart, speech, and action. And
this example and these endeavours we see attended with
most happy fruits, and blessed effects on others, in human
izing, civilizing, and wonderfully reforming and transform
ing some of the most brutish savages; idle, immoral,
drunkards, murderers, gross idolaters, and wizards ; bring
ing them to permanent sobriety, diligence, devotion, ho
nesty, conscientiousness, and charity. And the foregoing
amiable virtues and successful labours, all end at last in a
marvellous peace, unmovable stability, calmness, and re
signation, in the sensible approaches of death ; with long
ing for the heavenly state ; not only for the honours and
circumstantial advantages of it, but above all for the moral
perfection, and holy and blessed employments of it. And
these things are seen in a person indisputably of good un
derstanding and judgment. I therefore say, if all these
things are the fruits of enthusiasm, why should not enthu
siasm be thought a desirable and excellent thing ? For
what can true religion, what can the best philosophy, do
more ? If vapours and whimsy will bring men to the
most thorough virtue, to the most benign and fruitful mo
rality ; and will maintain it through a course of life at
tended with many trials, without affectation or self-exalta
tion, and with an earnest, constant testimony against the
wildness, the extravagances, the bitter zeal, assuming
behaviour, and separating spirit of enthusiasts ; and will
do all this more effectually, than any thing else has ever
done in any plain known instance that can be produced ;
what cause then has the world to prize and pray for this
blessed whimsicalness, and these benign vapours ?
It would perhaps be a prejudice with some against the
whole of Mr. Brainerd's religion, if it had begun in the
time of the late religious commotion ; being ready to con
clude, however unreasonable, that nothing good could take
its rise from those times. But it was not so ; his conversion
was before those times, in a time of general deadness ; and
therefore at a season when it was impossible that he should
receive a taint from any corrupt notions, examples, or cus
toms, that had birth in those times.
And whereas there are many who are not professed op
posers of what is called experimental religion, who yet
doubt of the reality of it, from the bad lives of some pro
fessors ; and are ready to determine that there is nothing in
all the talk about being born again, being emptied of self,
brought to a saving close with Christ, Sfc. because many
that pretend to these things, and are thought by others to
have been the subjects of them, manifest no abiding al lera-
tion in their moral disposition and behaviour ; are as care

less, carnal, covetous, &c. as ever ; yea, some much worse
than ever : it is to be acknowledged and lamented, that
this is the case with some ; but by the preceding account
they may be sensible, that it is not so with all. There
are some indisputable instances of such a change, as the
Scripture speaks of; an abiding great change, a " renova
tion ofthe spirit of the mind," and a " walking in newness
of life." In the foregoing instance particularly, they may
see the abiding influence of such a work of conversion,
as they have heard of from the word of God ; the fruits of
such experiences through a course of years , under a great
variety of circumstances, many changes of state, place, and
company ; and may see the blessed issue and event of it in
life and death.

REFLECT. IV.

The preceding history serves to confirm those doctrines
usually called the doctrines qf grace. For if it be allowed
that there is truth, substance, or value in the main of Mr.
Brainerd's religion, it will undoubtedly follow, that those
doctrines are divine : since it is evident, that the whole of
it, from beginning to end, is according to that scheme of
things; all built on those apprehensions, notions, and
views, that are produced and established in the mind by
tliose doctrines. He was brought by doctrines of this kind
to his awakening, and deep concern about things of a
spiritual and eternal nature ; and by these doctrines his
convictions were maintained and carried on ; and his con
version was evidently altogether agreeable to this scheme,
but by no means agreeing with the contrary, and utterly
inconsistent with the Arminian notion of conversion or re
pentance. His conversion was plainly founded in a clear
strong conviction, and undoubting persuasion of the truth
of those things appertaining to these doctrines, against
which Arminians most object, and about which his own
mind had contended most. His conversion was no con
firming and perfecting of moral principles and habits, by
use and practice, and industrious discipline, together with
the concurring suggestions and conspiring aids of God's
Spirit ; but entirely a supernatural work, at once turning
him from darkness to marvellous light, and from the power
of sin to the dominion of divine and holy principles. It
was an effect, in no regard produced by his strength or
labour, or obtained by his virtue ; and not accomplished
till he was first brought to a full conviction, that all his
own virtue, strength, labours, and endeavours, could never
avail any thing towards producing or procuring this effect.
A very little while before, his mind was full of the same
cavils against the doctrines of God's sovereign grace,
which are made by Arminians ; and his heart full even of
opposition to them. And God was pleased to perform
this good work in him, just after a fuli end had been put
to this cavilling and opposition ; after he was entirely con
vinced, that he was dead in sin, and was in the hands of
God, as the absolutely sovereign, unobliged, sole disposer
and author of true holiness. God showing him mercy at
such a time, is a confirmation, that this was a preparation
for mercy ; and consequently, that these things which he
was convinced of, were true. While he opposed, he was
the subject of no such mercy ; though he so earnestly
sought it, and prayed for it with so much care, and strict
ness in religion : but when once his opposition is fully
subdued, and he is brought to submit to the truths,
which he before had opposed, with full conviction, then
the mercy he sought for is granted, with abundant light,
great evidence, and exceeding joy ; and he reaps the sweet
fruit of it all his life after, and in the valley of the shadow
of death.
In his conversion, he was brought to see the glory of
that way of salvation by Christ, that is taught in what are
called the doctrines of grace ; and thenceforward, with un
speakable joy and complacence, to embrace and acquiesce
in that way of salvation. He was, in his conversion, in all
respects, brought to those views, and that state of mind,
which these doctrines show to be necessary. And if his
conversion was any real conversion, or any thing besides a
mere whim, and if the religion of his life was any thing
else but a series of freaks of a whimsical mind, then this

454

REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS

one grand principle, on which depends the whole differ
ence between Calvinists and Arminians, is undeniable,
viz. that the grace or virtue of truly good men not only
differs from the virtue of others in degree, but even in
nature and kind. If ever Mr. Brainerd was truly turned
from sin to God at all, or ever became truly religious, none
can reasonably doubt but that his conversion was at the
time when he supposed it to be: the change he then ex
perienced, was evidently the greatest moral change that
ever he passed under ; and he was then apparently first
brought to that kind of religion, that remarkable new habit
and temper of mind, which he held all his life after. The
narration shows it to be different, in nature and kind, from
all that ever he was the subject of before. It was evident
ly wrought at once, without fitting and preparing his mind,
by gradually convincing it more and more of the same
truths, and bringing it nearer and nearer to such a temper.
For it was soon after "his mind had been remarkably full of
blasphemy, and a vehement exercise of sensible enmity
against God, and great opposition to those truths which he
was now brought with his whole soul to embrace, and rest
in as divine and glorious ; truths, in the contemplation and
improvement of which, he placed his happiness. And he
himself (who was surely best able to judge) declares, that
the dispositions and affections which were then given him,
and thenceforward maintained in him, were, most sensibly
and certainly, perfectly different in their nature from all
that ever he was the subject of before, or of which he had
ever had any conception. In this he was peremptory, even
to his death. He must be looked upon as capable of judg
ing ; he had opportunity to know : he had practised a great
deal of religion before, was exceeding strict and conscien
tious, and had continued so for a long time ; had various
religious affections, with which he often flattered himself,
and sometimes pleased himself as being now in a good
estate. And after he had those new experiences, that be
gan in his conversion, they were continued to the end of
his life ; long enough for him thoroughly to observe their
nature, and compare them with what had been before.
Doubtless he was compos mentis ; and was at least one of
so good an understanding and judgment, as to be pretty
well capable of discerning and comparing the things that
passed in his own mind.
It is further observable, that his religion all along opera
ted in such a manner as tended to confirm his mind in the
doctrines of God's absolute sovereignty, man's universal
and entire dependence on God's power and grace, &c. The
more his religion prevailed in his heart, and the fuller he
was of divine love, and of clear and delightful views of
spiritual things, and the more his heart was engaged in
God's service ; the more sensible he was of the certainty
and the excellency and importance of these truths, and the
more he was affected with them, and rejoiced in them.
And he declares particularly, that when he lay for a long
while on the verge of the eternal world, often expecting to
be in that world in a few minutes, yet at the same time en
joying great serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, and
being most apparently in a peculiar manner at a distance
from an enthusiastical frame, he " at that time saw clearly
the truth of those great doctrines of the gospel, which are
justly styled the doctrines qf grace, and never felt himself
so capable of demonstrating the truth of them."
So that it is very evident, Mr. Brainerd's religion was
wholly correspondent to what is called the Calvinistical
scheme, and was the effect of those doctrines applied to his
heart : and certainly it cannot be denied, that the effect was
good, unless we turn atheists, or deists. — 1 would ask,
whether there be any such thing, in reality, as christian
devotion ? If there be, what is it ' what is its nature ? and
what its just measure ? should it not be in a great degree ?
We read abundantly in Scripture of " loving God with all
the heart, with all the soul, with all the mind, and with all
the strength ; of delighting in God, of rejoicing in the Lord,
rejoicing with joy unspeakable and full of glory ; the soul
magnifying the Lord, thirsting for God, hungering and
thirsting after righteousness ; the soul breaking for the long
ing it hath to God's judgments, praying to God with groan
ings that cannot be uttered, mourning for sin with a broken
heart and contrite spirit," &c. How full is the book of
Psalms, and other parts of Scripture, of such things as.

these ! Now wherein do these things, as expressed by and
appearing in Mr. Brainerd, either the things themselves,
or their effects and fruits, differ from the scripture repre
sentations ? These things he was brought to by that strange
and wonderful transformation of the man, which he called
his conversion. And do not these well agree with what is
so often said in the Old Testament and the New, concern
ing the " giving of a new heart, creating a right spirit, a
being renewed in the spirit of the mind, a being sanctified
throughout, becoming a new creature ? " &c. Now where
is there to be found an Arminian conversion or repentance,
consisting in so great and admirable a change ? Can the
Arminians produce an instance, within this age, and so
plainly within our reach and view, of such a reformation,
such a transformation of a man, to scriptural devotion,
heavenly-mindedness, and true Christian morality, in one
that before lived without these things, on the foot of their
principles, and through the influence of their doctrines ?
And here is worthy to be considered the effect of Cal
vinistical doctrines (as they are called) not only on Mr.
Brainerd himself, but also "on others, whom he taught. It
is abundantly pretended and asserted of late, that these
doctrines tend to undermine the very foundations of all
religion and morality, and to enervate and vacate all
reasonable motives to the exercise and practice of them,
and lay invincible stumbling-blocks before infidels, to
hinder their embracing Christianity ; and that the contrary
doctrines are the fruitful principles of virtue and goodness,
set religion on its right basis, represent it in an amiable
light, give its motives their full force, and recommend it
to the reason and common sense of mankind. — But where
can they find an instance of so great and signal an effect
of their doctrines, in bringing infidels, who were at such
a distance from ail that is civil, sober, rational, and Chris
tian, and so full of inveterate prejudices against these
things, to such a degree of humanity, civility, exercise of
reason, self-denial, and Christian virtue ? Arminians place
religion in morality : let them bring an instance of their
doctrines producing such a transformation of a people in
point of morality. It is strange, if the all-wise God so
orders things in his providence, that reasonable and proper
means, and Ms own means, which he himself has appointed,
should in no known remarkable instance be instrumental
to produce so good an effect ; an effect so agreeable to his
own word and mind, and that very effect for which he
appointed these excellent means ; that they should not be
so successful, as those means which are not his own, but
very contrary to them, and of a contrary tendency ; means
that are in themselves very absurd, and tend to root all
religion and virtue out of the world, to promote and
establish infidelity, and to lay an insuperable stumbling-
block before pagans, to hinder their embracing the gospel:
I say, if this be the true state of the case, it is certainly
wonderful, and an event worthy of some attention.
I know, that many will be ready to say, "It is too
soon yet to glory in the work, that has been wrought
among Mr. Brainerd's Indians ; it is best to wait and see
the final event ; it may be, all will come to nothing by
and by." To which I answer, (not to insist, that it will
not follow, according to Arminian principles, they are not
now true Christians, really pious and godly, though they
should fall away and come to nothing,) that I never sup
posed every one of those Indians, who in profession re
nounced their heathenism and visibly embraced Chris
tianity, and have had some appearance of piety, will
finally prove true converts. If two thirds, or indeed one
half of them (as great a proportion as there is in the para
ble of the ten virgins) should persevere ; it will be suffi
cient to show the work wrought among them to have been
truly admirable and glorious. But so much of permanence
of their religion has already appeared, as shows it to be
something else besides an Indian humour or good mood,
or any transient effect in the conceits, notions, and affec
tions of these ignorant people, excited at a particular turn,
by artful management. For it is now more than three
years ago, that this work began among them, and a re
markable change appeared in many of them ; since which
time the number of visible converts has greatly increased:
and by repeated accounts, from several hands, they still
generally persevere in diligent religion and strict virtue*

ON BRAINERD'S MEMOIRS, &c.

455

I think, a letter from a young gentleman, a candidate for
the ministry, one of those before mentioned, appointed by
the honourable commissioners in Boston, as missionaries
to the heathen of the Six Nations, so called, worthy of
insertion here. He, by their order, dwelt with Mr. John
Brainerd among these christian Indians, in order to their
being prepared for the business of their mission. The
letter was written from thence, to his parents here in
Northampton, and is as follows : —
Bethel, in New Jersey, Jan. 14, 1748.
Honoured and dear Parents,
"After a long and uncomfortable journey, by reason of
bad weather, I arrived at Mr. Brainerd's the sixth instant;
where I design to stay this winter : and as yet, upon many
accounts, am well satisfied with my coming hither. The
state and circumstances .of the Indians, spiritual and
temporal, much exceed what I expected. I have en
deavoured to acquaint myself with the state of the Indians
in general, with particular persons, and with the school,
as much as the short time I have been here would admit
of. And notwithstanding my expectations were very much
raised, from Mr. David Firainerd's Journal, and from
particular informations from him ; yet I must confess, that
in many respects they are not equal to that which now
appears to me to be true, concerning the glorious work of
divine grace amongst the Indians.
"The evening after I came to town, I had opportunity
to see the Indians together, whilst the Reverend Mr.
Arthur preached to them : at which time there appeared
a very general and uncommon seriousness and solemnity
in the congregation : and this appeared to me to be the
effect of an inward sense of the importance of divine
truths, and not because they were hearing a stranger ; which
was abundantly confirmed to me the next sabbath, when
there was the same devout attendance on divine service,
and a surprising solemnity appearing in the performance
of each part of divine worship. And some, who are
hopefully true Christians, appear to have been at that time
much enlivened and comforted ; not from any observable
commotions then, but from conversation afterwards : and
others seemed to be under pressing concern for their souls.
I have endeavoured to acquaint myself with particular
persons ; many of whom seem to be very humble and
growing Christians ; although some of them (as I am
informed) were before their conversion most monstrously
wicked. " Religious conversation seems to be very pleasing and
delightful to many, and especially that which relates to
the exercises of the heart. And many here do not seem
to be real Christians only, but growing Christians also ;
as well in doctrinal as experimental knowledge. Besides
my conversation with particular persons, I have had op-
Iiortunity to attend upon one of Mr. Brainerd's catechetical
ectures ; where I was surprised at their readiness in an
swering questions to which thev had not been used ; al
though Mr. Brainerd complained much of their uncommon
deficiency. It is surprising to see this people, who not
long since were led captive by Satan at his will, and living
in the practice of all manner of abominations, without the
least sense even of moral honesty, yet now living soberly
and regularly, and not seeking every man his own, but
every man, in some sense, his neighbour's good ; and to
see those, who but a little while past knew nothing of
the true God, now worshipping him in a solemn and de
vout manner ; not only in public, but in their families and
in secret ; which is manifestly the case, it being a difficult
thing to walk out in the woods in the morning, without
disturbing persons at their secret devotion. And it seems
wonderful, that this should be the case, not only with
adult persons, but with children also. It is observable
here, that many children (if not the children in general)
retire into secret places to pray. And, as far as at present
I can judge, this is not the effect of custom and fashion,
but of real seriousness and thoughtfulness about their souls.
" I have frequently gone into the school, and have spent
considerable time there amongst the children ; and have
been surprised to see, not only their diligent attendance
upon the business of the school, but also the proficiency

they have made in it, in reading and writing and in their
catechisms of divers sorts. It seems to be as pleasing and
as natural to these children, to have their books in their
hands, as it does for many others to be at play. I have
gone into a house where there has been a number of chil
dren accidentally gathered together; and observed, that
every one had his book in his hand, and was diligently
studying it. About thirty of these children can answer to
all the questions in the Assembly's Catechism ; and the
greater part of them are able to do it with the proofs, to
the fourth commandment. I wish there were many such
schools ; I confess, that I never was acquainted with such
an one, in many respects. Oh that what God has done
here, may prove to be the beginning of a far more glorious
and extensive work of grace among the heathen !
" I am your obedient and dutiful son,
"JOB STRONG."
" P. S. Since the date of this, I have had opportunity to
attend upon another of Mr. Brainerd's catechetical lec
tures : and truly I was convinced, that Mr. Brainerd did
not complain before of his people's defects in answering to
questions proposed, without reason : for although their
answers at that time exceeded my expectations very much ;
yet their performances at this lecture very much exceeded
them." Since this we have had accounts from time to time, and
some very late, which show that religion still continues in
prosperous and most desirable circumstances among these
Indians.

REFLECT. V.

Is there not much in the preceding memoirs of Mr.
Brainerd to teach, and excite to duty, us who are called to
the work of the ministry, and all that are candidates for
that great work ? What a deep sense did he seem to have
of the greatness and importance of that work, and with
what weight did it lie on his mind ! How sensible was he
of his own insufficiency for this work ; and how great was
his dependence on God's sufficiency ! How solicitous,
that he might be fitted for it ! and to this end, how much
time did he spend in prayer and fasting, as well as reading
and meditation ; giving himself to these things ! How did
he dedicate his whole life, all his powers and talents, to
God ; and forsake and renounce the world, with all its
pleasing and insnaring enjoyments, that he might be
wholly at liberty to serve Christ in this work ; and to
" please him who had chosen him to be a soldier, under
the Captain of our salvation 1" With what solicitude,
solemnity, and diligence did he devote himself to God our
Saviour, and seek his presence and blessing in secret, at
the time of his ordination ! and how did his whole heart
appear to be constantly engaged, his whole time em
ployed, and his whole strength spent, in the business he
then solemnly undertook, and to which he was publicly
set apart !  And his history shows us the right way to
success in the work of the ministry. He sought it as a
resolute soldier seeks victory in a siege or battle ; or as a
man that runs a race, for a great prize. Animated with
love to Christ and souls, how did he " labour always
fervently," not only in word and doctrine, in public and
private, but in prayers day and night, " wrestling with
God " in secret, and " travailing in birth," with unutter
able groans and agonies, " until Christ were formed " in
the hearts of the people to whom he was sent ! how did
he thirst for a blessing on his ministry ; and " watch for
souls, as one that must give account !" how did he " go
forth in the strength of the Lord God ;" seeking and de
pending on a special influence of the Spirit to assist and
succeed him ! And what was the happy fruit at last,
though after long waiting, and many dark and discouraging
appearances ? Like a true son of Jacob, he persevered
in wrestling, through all the darkness of the night, until
the breaking of the day.
And his example of labouring, praying, denying him
self, and enduring hardness, with unfainting resolution
and patience, and his faithful, vigilant, and prudent con-

4.56

REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS

duct in many other respects, (which it would be too long
now particularly to recite,) may afford instruction to
missionaries in particular.

REFLECT. VI.

The foregoing account of Mr. Brainerd's life may afford
instruction to Christians in general ; as it shows, in many
respects, the right way of practising religion, in order to
obtain the ends and receive the benefits of it; or how
Christians should " run the race set before them," if they
would not " run in vain, or run as uncertainly," but would
honour God in the world, adorn their profession, be
serviceable to mankind, have the comforts of religion while
they live, be free from disquieting doubts and dark appre
hensions about the state of their souls, enjoy peace in tlie
approaches of death, and " finish their course with joy." —
In general, he much recommended, for this purpose, the
redemption qf time, great diligence in the business of the
christian life, watchfulness, &c. And he very remarkably
exemplified these things.
But particularly, his example and success with regard to
one duty, in an especial manner, may be of great use to
both ministers and private Christians ; I mean the duty of
secret fasting. The reader has seen, how much Mr.
Brainerd recommends this duty, and how frequently he
exercised himself in it ; nor can it well have escaped ob
servation, how much he was owned and blessed in it, and
of what great benefit it evidently was to his soul. Among
all the many days he spent in secret fasting and prayer,
that he gives an account of in his diary, there is scarce an
instance of one, but what was either attended or soon fol
lowed with apparent success, and a remarkable blessing,
in special incomes and consolations of God's Spirit ; and
very often, before the day was ended. — But it must be ob
served, that when he set about this duty, he did it in good
earnest ; " stirring up himself to take hold of God," and
" continuing instant in prayer," with much of the spirit of
Jacob, who said to the angel, " I will not let thee go, ex
cept thou bless me."

REFLECT. VII.

There is much in the preceding account to excite and
encourage God's people to earnest prayers and endeavours
for the advancement and enlargement qf the kingdom of
Christ in the world. Mr. Brainerd set us an excellent ex
ample in this respect ; he sought the prosperity of Zion
with all his might ; he preferred Jerusalem above his chief
joy. How did his soul long for it, and pant after it ! and
now earnestly and often did he wrestle with God for it !
and how far did he, in these desires and prayers, seem to
be carried beyond all private and selfish views ! being
animated by a pure love to Christ, an earnest desire of
his glory, and a disinterested affection to the souls of
mankind. The consideration of this not only ought to be an incite
ment to the people of God, but may also be a just en
couragement to them to be much in seeking and praying
for a general outpouring of the Spirit of God, and exten
sive revival of religion. I confess that God giving so
much of a spirit of prayer for this mercy to so eminent a
servant of his, and exciting him in so extraordinary a man
ner, and with such vehement thirstings of soul, to agonize
in prayer for it from time to time, through the course of
his life, is one thing, among others, which gives me great
hope, that God has a design of accomplishing something
very glorious for the interest of his church before long.
One such instance as this, I conceive, gives more encou
ragement, than the common, cold, formal prayers of thou
sands. As Mr. Brainerd's desires and prayers for the
coming of Christ's kingdom, were very special and extra
ordinary ; so, I think, we may reasonably hope, that the
God who excited those desires and prayers, will answer
them with something special and extraordinary. And in
a particular manner do I think it worthy of notice for our

encouragement, that he had his heart (as he declared)
unusually drawn out in longings and prayers for the
flourishing of Christ's kingdom on earth, when he was in
the approaches of death; and that with his dying breath
he breathed out his departing soul into the bosom of his
Redeemer, in prayers and pantings after this glorious
event; expiring in very great hope, that it would soon
begin to be fulfilled. And I wish, that the thoughts which
he in his dying state expressed of that explicit agreement,
and visible union of God's people, in extraordinary prayer
for a general revival of religion, lately proposed in a Me
morial from Scotland, which has been dispersed among
us, may be well .considered by those that hitherto have not
seen fit to fall in with that proposal. — But I forbear to say
any more on this head, having already largely published
my thoughts upon it, in a discourse written on purpose to
promote that affair ; which, I confess, I wish that every
one of my readers might be supplied with ; not that my
honour, but that this excellent design, might be promoted.-
As there is much in Mr. Brainerd's life to encourage
Christians to seek the advancement of Christ's kingdom,
in general ; so there is, in particular, to pray for the con
version of the Indians on this continent, and to exert
themselves in the use of proper means for its accomplish-.
ment. For it appears, that he in his unutterable longings
and wrestlings of soul for the flourishing of religion, had
his mind peculiarly intent on the conversion and salvation
of these people, and his heart more especially engaged in
prayer for them. And if we consider the degree and
manner in which he, from time to time, sought and hoped-
for an extensive work of grace among them, I think we
have reason lo hope, that the wonderful things which
God wrought among them by him, are but a forerunner
of something yet much more glorious and extensive of that
kind ; and this may justly be an encouragement to well-
disposed, charitable persons, to " honour the Lord with
their substance," by contributing, as they are able, to pro
mote the spreading of the gospel among them ; and this
also may incite and encourage gentlemen who are incor
porated, and intrusted with the care and disposal of those
liberal benefactions, which have already been made by
pious persons, to that end ; and likewise the missionaries.
themselves, that are or may be employed ; and it may be
of direction unto both, as to the proper qualifications of
missionaries, and the proper measures to be taken in order
to their success.
One thing, in particular, I would take occasion from the
foregoing history to mention and propose lo the considera
tion of such as have the care of providing and sending
missionaries among savages; viz. Whether it would not
ordinarily be best to send two together? It is pretty
manifest, that Mr. Brainerd's going, as he did, alone into
the howling wilderness; was one great occasion of a pre
vailing melancholy on his mind ; which was his greatest
disadvantage. He spoke much of it himself, when he was
here in his dying state ; and expressed himself to this
purpose, that none could conceive of the disadvantage a
missionary in such circumstances was under, by being
alone ; especially as it exposed him to discouragement
and melancholy : and spoke of the wisdom of Christ in
sending forth his disciples by two and two ; and left it as
his dying advice to his brother, never to go to Susquehan
nah, to travel about in that remote wilderness, to preach
to the Indians there, as he had often done, without the
company of a fellow-missionary.

REFLECT. VIII.

One thing more may not be unprofitably observed in
the preceding account of Mr. Brainerd ; and that is, the
special and remarkable disposal of Divine Providence, with
regard to the circumstances of his last sickness and death
Though he had been long infirm, his constitution being
much broken by his fatigues and hardships ; and though
he was often brought very low by illness, before he left
Kaunaumeek, and also while he lived at the Forks of De
laware : yet his life was preserved, till he had seen that
which he had so long and greatly desired and sought, a

ON BRAINERD'S MEMOIRS, &c.

457

glorious work of grace among the Indians, and had re
ceived the wished-for blessing of God on his labours.
Though as it were " in deaths oft," yet he lived to behold
the happy fruits of the long-continued travail of his soul
and labour of his body, in the wonderful conversion of
many of the heathen, and the happy effect of it in the great
change of their conversation, with many circumstances
which afforded a fair prospect of the continuance of God's
blessing upon them ; as may appear by what I shall pre
sently further observe.  Thus he did not " depart, till
his eves had seen God's salvation."
, Though it was the pleasure of God, that he should be
taken off from his labours among that people to whom
God had made him a spiritual father, who were so dear to
him, and for whose spiritual welfare he was so greatlv con
cerned; yet this was not before they were well initiated
and instructed in the christian religion, thoroughly weaned
from their old heathenish and brutish notions and prac
tices, and all their prejudices and jealousies, which tended
to keep their minds unsettled, were fully removed. They
were confirmed and fixed in the christian faith and man
ners, were formed into a church, had ecclesiastical ordi
nances and discipline introduced and settled ; were
brought into a good way with respect to the education of
children, had a schoolmaster excellently qualified for the
business, and had a school set up and established, in good
order, among them. They had been well brought off from
their former idle, strolling, sottish way of living; had re
moved from their former scattered, uncertain habitations ;
and were collected in a town by themselves, on a good
piece of land of their own ; were introduced into the way
of living by husbandry, and begun to experience the be
nefits of it, &c. These things were but just brought to
pass bv his indefatigable application and care, and then he
was taken off from his work by illness. If this had been
but a little sooner, they would by no means have been so
well prepared for such a dispensation; and it probably
would have been unspeakably more to the hurt of their
spiritual interest, and of the cause of Christianity among
them. The time and circumstances of his illness were so
ordered, that he had just opportunity to finish his Journal,
and prepare it for the press ; giving an account of the
marvellous display of divine power and grace among the
Indians in New Jersey, and at the Forks of Delaware.
His doing this was of great consequence, and therefore
urged upon him by the correspondents, who have honoured
his Journal with a preface. The world being particularly
and justly informed of that affair by Mr. Brainerd, before
his death, a foundation was hereby laid for a concern in
others for that cause, and proper care and measures to be
taken for maintaining it after his death. As it has actually
proved to be of great influence and benefit in this respect ;
for it has excited and engaged many in those parts, and
also more distant parts of Americn, to exert themselves for
upholding and promoting the good and glorious work, re
markably opening their hearts and hands to that end : and
not only in America, but in Great Britain, where that
Journal (which I have earnestly recommended to my
readers) has been an occasion of some large benefactions,
made for the promoting the interest of Christianity among
the Indians.  If Mr* Brainerd had been taken ill but a
little sooner, he had not been able to complete his Journal,
and prepare a copv for the press.
He was not taken off from the work of the ministry
among his people, till his brother was in a capacity and
circumstances to succeed him in his care of them : who
succeeds him in the like spirit, and under whose prudent
and faithful care his congregation has flourished, and been
very happy, since he left them ; and probably could not
have been so well provided for otherwise. If Mr.
Brainerd had been disabled sooner, his brother would by
no means have been ready to stand up in his place ; having
taken his first degree at college but about that very time
that he was seized with his fatal consumption.
Though in that winter that he lay sick at Mr. Dickin
son's in Elizabeth-town, he continued for a long time in
an extremely low state, so that his life was almost despair-
* The appointment of these gentlemen to this mission has been hitherto
much smiled on by Providence ; as in other respects, so particularly in

ed of, and his state was sometimes such that it was hardly
expected he would live a day ; yet his life was spared a
while longer : he lived to see his brother arrived m New
Jersey, being come to succeed him in the care of his In
dians ; and he himself had opportunity to assist in his
examination and introduction into his business ; and to
commit the conduct of his dear people to one whom he
well knew, and could put confidence in, and use freedom
with, in giving him particular instructions and charges,
and under whose care he could leave his congregation
with great cheerfulness.
The providence of God was remarkable in so ordering
it, that before his death he should take a journey into
New England, and go to Boston ; which was, in many
respects, of very great and happy consequence to the inter
est of religion, and especially among his own people. By
this means, as before observed, he was brought into ac
quaintance with many persons of note and influence,
ministers and others, belonging both to the town and vari
ous parts ofthe country ; and had opportunity, under the
best advantages, to bear a testimony for God and true re
ligion, and against those false appearances of it that have
proved most pernicious to the interest of Christ's kingdom
in the land. And the providence of God is particularly
observable in this circumstance of the testimony he there
bore for true religion, viz. that he there was brought so
near the grave, and continued for so long a time on the
very brink of eternity ; and from time to time, looked on
himself, and was looked on by others, as just leaving the
world ; and that in these circumstances he should be so
particularly directed and assisted in his thoughts and
views of religion, to distinguish between the true and the
false, with such clearness and evidence; and that after
this he should be unexpectedly and surprisinglv restored
and strengthened, so far as to be able to converse freely.
Then he had an opportunity, and special occasions, to de
clare the sentiments he had in these, which, to human
apprehension, were his dying circumstances ; and to bear
his testimony concerning the nature of true religion, and
concerning the mischievous tendency of its most prevalent
counterfeits and false appearances ; as things he had a
special, clear, distinct view of at that time, when he ex
pected in a few minutes to be in eternity ; and the cer
tainty and importance of which were then, in a peculiar
manner, impressed on his mind.
Among the happy consequences of his going to Boston,
were those liberal benefactions that have been mentioned,
which were made by piously disposed persons, for maintain
ing and promoting the interest of religion among his
people : and also the meeting of a number of gentlemen
in Boston, of note and ability, to consult upon measures for
that purpose ; who were excited by their acquaintance and
conversation with Mr. Brainerd, and by the account of the
great things God had wrought by his ministry, to unite
themselves, that by their joint endeavours and contribu
tions they might promote the kingdom of Christ, and the
spiritual good of their fellow-creatures, among the Indians
in New Jersey, and elsewhere.
It was also remarkable, that Mr. Brainerd should go to
Boston at that time, after the honourable commissioners
there, of the corporation in London for propagating the
Gospel in New England and parts adjacent, had received
Dr. Williams's legacy for maintaining two missionaries
among the heathen ; and at a time when they, having con
cluded on a mission to the Indians of the Six Nations, (so
called, ) were looking out for fit persons to be employed
in that important service. This proved an occasion of
their committing to him the affair of finding and recom
mending suitable persons : which has proved a successful
means of two persons being found and actually appointed
to that business ; who seem to be well qualified for it, and
to have their hearts greatly engaged in it ; one of which
has been solemnly ordained to that work in Boston, and is
now gone forth to one of those tribes, who have appeared
well disposed to receive him ; it being judged not conve
nient for the other to go till the next spring, by reason of
his bodilv infirmitv.*
These happy consequences of Mr. Brainerd's journey
wonderfully opening the hearts of many to contribute liberally to so ex
cellent a design. Besides the benefactions in Boston, a number of persons

458
to Boston would have been prevented, in case he had died
when he was brought so near to death in New Jersey. Or
if, after he came first to Northampton, (where he was much
at a loss and long deliberating which way to bend his
course,) he had determined not to go to Boston.
The providence of God was observable in his going to
Boston at a time when not only the honourable commis
sioners were seeking missionaries to the Six Nations, but
also just after his Journal, which gives an account of his
labours and success among the Indians, had been received
and spread in Boston; whereby his name was known,
and the minds of serious people were well prepared to
receive his person, and the testimony he there gave for
God ; to exert themselves for the upholding and promot
ing the interest of religion in his congregation, and amongst
the Indians elsewhere ; and to regard his judgment con
cerning the qualifications of missionaries, &c. If he had
gone there the fall before, (when he had intended to have
made his journey into New England, but was prevented
by a sudden great increase of his illness,) it would not pro
bably have been, in any measure, to so good effect : and
also if he had not been unexpectedly detained at Boston ;
for when he went from my house, he intended to make but
a very short stay there ; but Divine Providence, by his be
ing brought so low there, detained him long ; thereby to
make way for the fulfilling its own gracious designs.
The providence of God was remarkable in so ordering,
that although he was brought so very near the grave in
Boston, that it was not in the least expected he would ever
come alive out of his chamber ; yet he was wonderfully
revived, and preserved several months longer : so that he
had opportunity to see, and fully to converse with, both his
younger brothers before he died ; which he greatly desir
ed ; and especially to see his brother John, with whom
was left the care of his congregation ; that he might by
him be fully informed of their state, and might leave with
him such instructions and directions as were requisite in
order to their spiritual welfare, and to send to them his
dying charges and counsels. And he had also opportunity,
by means of this suspension of his death, to find and re
commend a couple of persons fit to be employed as mis
sionaries to the Six Nations, as had been desired of him.
Thus, although it was the pleasure of a sovereign God,
that he should be taken away from his congregation, the
people that he had begotten through the gospel, who were
so dear to him ; yet it was granted him, that before he
died he should see them well provided for every way. He
saw them provided for, with one to instruct them, and to
take care of their souls ; his own brother, whom he could
confide in. He saw a good foundation laid for the support
of the school among them ; those things that before were
wanting in order to it, being supplied. He had the pros
pect of a charitable society being established, of able and
well-disposed persons, who seem to make the spiritual in
terest of his congregation their own ; whereby he had a
comfortable view of their being well provided for, for the
future : and he had also opportunity to leave all his dying
charges with his ¦ successor in the pastoral care of his
people, and by him to send his dying counsels to them.
Thus God granted him to see all things happily settled, or
in a hopeful way of being so, before his death, with respect
to his dear people. — And whereas not only his own con
gregation, but the souls of the Indians in North America
in general, were very dear to him, and he had greatly set
his heart on the propagating and extending the kingdom
of Christ among them ; God was pleased to grant him —
though not to be the immediate instrument of their in
struction and conversion, yet— that before his death he
should see unexpected extraordinary provision made for
this also. And it is remarkable that God not only allow
ed him to see such provision made for maintaining the in
terest of religion among his own people and the propaga
tion of it elsewhere ; but honoured him by making him
at Northampton with much cheerfulness have given about 1607. (old tenor) ;

REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS, Sec.

the means or occasion of it. So that it is very probable,
however Mr. Brainerd during the last four months of his
life, was ordinarily in an extremely weak and low state,
very often scarcely able to speak ; yet that he was made
the instrument or means of much more good in that
space of time, than he would have been if well and in
full strength of body. Thus God's power was manifested
in his weakness, and the life qf Christ was manifested in
his mortal flesh.
Another thing wherein appears the merciful disposal of
Providence with respect to his death, was that he did not
die in the wilderness among the savages at Kaunaumeek,
or the Forks of Delaware, or at Susquehannah ; but in a
place where his dying behaviour and speeches might be
observed and remembered, and some account given of
them for the benefit of survivors : and also where care
might be taken of him in his sickness, and proper honours
done him at his death.
The providence of God is also worthy of remark in so
overruling and ordering the matter, that he did not finally
leave absolute orders for the entire suppressing of his
private papers ; as he had intended and fully resolved, in
somuch that all the importunity of his friends could scarce
restrain him from doing it when sick at Boston. And one
thing relating to this is peculiarly remarkable, viz. that his
brother a little before his death should come from the
Jerseys unexpected, and bring his diary to him, though he
had received no such order. So that he had opportunity
of access to these his reserved papers, and for reviewing
the same ; without which, it appears, he would at last
have ordered them to be wholly suppressed : but after this
he the more readily yielded to the desires of his friends,
and was willing to leave them in their hands to be dis
posed of as they thought might be most for God's glory.
By which means, " he being dead, yet speaketh," in
these memoirs of his life taken from those private
writings : whereby it is to be hoped he may still be as it
were the instrument of promoting the interest of religion
in this world ; the advancement of which he so much
desired, and hoped would be accomplished after his
death. If these circumstances of Mr. Brainerd's death be duly
considered, I doubt not but they will be acknowledged as
a notable instance of God's fatherly care, and covenant-
faithfulness towards them that are. devoted to him, and
faithfully serve him while they live ; whereby " he never
fails nor forsakes them, but is with them living and dying :
so that whether they live they live to the Lord ; or whe
ther they die, they die to the Lord ;" and both in life and
death they are owned and taken care of as his.  Mr.
Brainerd himself, as was before observed, was much in
taking notice (when near his end) of the merciful circum
stances of his death ; and said from time to time, that
" God had granted him all his desire."
I would not conclude my observations on the merciful
circumstances of Mr. Brainerd's death, without acknow
ledging with thankfulness, the gracious dispensation of
Providence to me and my family, in so ordering that he
(though the ordinary place of his abode was more than
two hundred miles distant) should be brought to my
house, in his last sickness, and should die here. So that
we had opportunity for much acquaintance and conversa
tion with him, to show him kindness in such circum
stances, to see his dying behaviour, to hear his dying
speeches, to receive his dying counsels, and to have the
benefit of his dying prayers. May God in infinite mercy
grant that we may ever retain a proper remembrance of
these things, and make a due improvement of the advan
tages we have had in these respects ! The Lord grant also
that the foregoing account of Mr. Brainerd's life and
death may be for the great spiritual benefit of all that shall
read it, and prove a happy means of promoting the revival
of true religion ! Amen.
and a particular person in Springfield has devoted a considerable part of
his.estate to this interest

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS

IMPORTANT THEOLOGICAL SUBJECTS.

ORIGINAL AND COLLECTED.

PREFACE.
President Edwards has left many manuscript volumes of observations, on almost all subjects in divinity, which
either occurred to him from his own meditation, or from the books he read. He wrote these volumes, not with any
design they should ever be published in their present form, but that he might retain thoughts which appeared to him
worth preserving, both for his own improvement, and for the instruction and edification of others. The judicious
author of the life of this great and good man, gave his opinion, that, from these manuscripts, a number of volumes
might be published, which, though more imperfect than if the author had prepared them for public view, would
afford much new light and entertainment to the church of Christ. The high and well-merited reputation, not only of
the books prepared for the press of the President, but of the sermons published since his death, have occasioned many
solicitations to his son, Dr. Edwards, of Newhaven, to collect and print such part of those manuscripts as might be
generally useful. In compliance with these requests, he has not grudged the labour of transcribing this volume of
miscellanies, which, if it prove acceptable, will be followed by more, as the Doctor's health and leisure permit.
Many important and original thoughts occur, on, The evidences of revealed religion — Moral and religious know
ledge only from revelation — Christ and his apostles taught not that the last judgment was near — Jesus's prophecies, a
proof that he was the Christ, and that he was God — Propriety of the general judgment — Reasonableness of some par
ticular doctrines — Miracles of Jesus not opposed by counterfeit miracles — Miracles of Jesus superior to those unde
the Old Testament — Much instruction concisely conveyed by scripture metaphors — Excellencies of scripture history —
The Propriety of gradual improvement in understanding the Scriptures — The Propriety of room being left for dis
covering truth by Scripture consequences — The necessity of divine revelation vindicated — Jesus proved the Christ,
from his destroying heathen idolatry according to scripture prophecy — Propagation of Mahometanism not parallel to
that of Christianity — State of the Jewish nation, an evidence of revealed religion — Observations on Christ's miracles.
— Equally striking and judicious are many of the reflections on the mysteries of revelation — On the Trinity and the
Divinity of Christ. — Many therefore, who relish solid reasoning on religious subjects, though not adorned with the
beauties of eloquence, will deem themselves much indebted to Dr. Edwards for gathering these fragments, that nothing
might be lost.
Some, who have purchased and read Archbishop Tillotson's sermons, Stapferi Theologia Polemica, Bennet's Inspi
ration of the Scriptures, Grotius de Veritate Religionis Christianas, Sir Isaac Newton's Chronology, Religion of Jesus
Delineated, Deism Revealed, and Jones on the Canon, may possibly wish that the large quotations from them had
been omitted. But Dr. Edwards was advised to publish them, as they may prove an antidote to the deistical notions
spreading in some parts of America, where these books are in few hands. These passages may lead some to read
these books, who otherwise would not have known them. The President's originality of genius, and attachment to
Calvinist principles, did not hinder his seeking and finding instruction in their writings, whose system of theology
was very opposite to his. It were well, if in this he was imitated by all who possess distinguished talents, and who
boast of liberality of sentiment.
JOHN ERSKINE.
Edin. Sept. 30, 1793.

ADVERTISEMENT TO THIS EDITION.

The judiciousness ofthe " advice" given to Dr. Edwards, and with which he complied, may be justly questioned,
respecting the " large quotations " referred to by Dr. Erskine, as they greatly swelled the publication, and thereby
impeded the circulation of the President's original and very valuable thoughts However, in the present edition of his
works, it would be extremely improper to insert " long quotations out of Tillotson, Jones on the Canon, _rc. indis
criminately, and without abridgment; not only because these authors are so common in England, compared with
America, but also because it will be more satisfactory to the biblical student to consult the originals themselves, and
to see the arguments in their proper connexion. This equally applies to the series of " Observations, and to that of
the subsequent " Remarks." The latter of these were before cast into distinct chapters, and the former are now
reduced to their proper heads, by which they acquire a more interesting aspect, and from the circumstance of an easy
connexion, an additional persuasive force. . .
It is certain that many of the original " Observations," and of the " Remarks on important Theological Controver
sies," were inserted in the author's common-place book prior to the composition of some of his elaborate publications
on the same subjects, when his thoughts appear in a more mature state, and in a more connected form. Of course,
where the subjects coincided, he would avail himself of the substance of such adversaria in those treatises. On these

PART I.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE FACTS AND EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, AND THE OBJECTIONS OF INFIDELS.

CHAP. I.
General observations.
§1.1 suppose it will be acknowledged by the deists,
that the christian religion is the most rational and pure
that ever was established in any society qf men ; and that
they will except only themselves, as serving God in a man
ner more according to his will, than the christian manner.
But can anv believe that God has so wholly thrown away
mankind, that there never yet has been a society of men
that have rightly paid respect to their Creator?
It is easily proved that the highest end and happiness
of man is to view God's excellency, to lore him, and re
ceive expressions of his love. This love, including all those
other affections which depend upon, and are necessarily
connected with it, we express in worship. The highest
end of society among men, therefore, must be, to assist
and join with each other in this employment. But how
comes it to pass, that this end of society was never yet
obtained among deists? Where was ever any social
worship statedly performed by them. And were they dis
posed socially to express their love and honour, which
way would they go about it? They have nothing from
God lo direct them. Doubtless there would be perpetual
dissensions about it, unless they were disposed to fall in
with the christian model. We may be convinced, there
fore, that revelation is necessary to right social worship.
§ 2. There never was any religion but that which we
profess, and those formed from it, that pretended to in
form us of the nature of God, that there is but one God ;
how the world came into being, and how God governs it.
What other religion discovered God's great designs ; what
is his will, and how he should be served? declared the
reward of obedience and punishment of disobedience ;
the nature of man's happiness, and the end for which he
was made ? that gave us good moral rules ; told us what
will become of the world hereafter; explained how we
came to be sinful and miserable, and how we may escape
sin and misery ? gave an account of the great revolutions
of the world, and the successions of God's works in the
universe ; and where his true worshippers have been, and

what has befallen them ; or informed us how the world
came to apostatize from the true worship of God? Chris
tianity is the only religion that ever pretended that there
should a time come, when it should be the religion of the
world in general.
§ 3. The Jewish religion, as at present professed, most
certainly differs from what reason evidently declares to be
the essence of religion. It does not state aright the
highest end and happiness of man, his chief business and
greatest misery, and the true worship of God. Undoubt
edly the Messiah was to come to advance the best interest
and true happiness of mankind, which certainly consist in
what the gospel declares our Jesus advanced, and not in
what the Jews expect the Messiah will do.
§ 4. I think it certain, that seeing the miracles of Christ
were done, for three years and a half, so publicly all over
Judea; and seeing there was such violent opposition
there, so soon after, against the Christians ; if the matters
of fact had been false, they would have been denied by
the Jews generally ; and if this had been the case, we
should have known it. The Jews afterwards would much
more have denied them ; which it is evident they did not.
If they had, they would have been also denied by the
heathens who wrote against the Christians. But they
were not denied. It is impossible lhat the whole world
should have turned christian, in three hundred years after
the facts were so publicly done, if they had been generally
false. If the Jews had denied the matters of fact at first,
they would undoubtedly have denied them at this dav, see
ing' they are so tenacioiis of the traditions of their fathers.
Christ's resurrection was openly published within a few
days after his death, on the day of Pentecost. It is un
doubted, that the number of the Christians increased
every where exceedingly from that time ; so that a con
siderable alteration was speedily made by it in the face of
the world. Whether the matters of fact were written or
no, they were universally talked of. The conversion of the
Roman empire to the christian religion, was the most re
markable thing that ever happened among the nations of
the world ; and it would be unaccountable that it should
have happened upon the story of a few obscure men, with
out inquiring into the matters related.

Chap. I.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

461

Ffc

§ 5. I am convinced of the necessity of a revelation,
considering how negligent, dull, and careless about a future
happiness, I should be, if I was left to discover that happi
ness by unassisted reason : especially if there were no re
velation at all, about what is pleasing to God ; how he ac
cepts our services ; after what manner he loves his servants ;
.how he will pardon sin, _rc.
§ 6. It is certain lhat Jesus Christ had none of the ad
vantages of education, to get learning and knowledge ; and
it is also certain, that every where in his speeches, he
showed an uncommon insight into things, a great know
ledge of the true nature of virtue and morality, and what
was most acceptable to God, vastly beyond the rest of the
nation — lake scribes and Pharisees and all. And how did
he come by it ? how did he get it at Nazareth ? Those who
have not an education in these days, may get much by
books, which are so common : but books of learning were
not to be had then. Yea, it is evident that he knew vast
ly more than any of the philosophers and wise men in the
whole world, by those rational descriptions which he gave
of God and his attributes; of his government and provi
dence ; and of man's nature, business, end, and happiness ;
of what is pleasing to God ; of the immortality of the
soul, and a future state. How knew he, so exactly, truths
ierhaps demonstrable by reason, but never found out be-
bre ? &c.
§ 7. That Christ was really dead, appears from many
considerations. It is very unreasonable to imagine, that he
feigned himself dead ; for what reason had he to think
that he should have success, if he did ? or to expect they
would take him down before he was quite dead ? Or, if
he had had such a design, it was impossible that he should
act his part so accurately, as not to be discovered or sus
pected. Besides, if he was not dead when they took him
down from the cross, he was very near it ; and no doubt
but his grievous wounds, the loss of blood, and fasting so
long, would have extinguished his life before the third day.
And if then he only rose out of a swoon, how came he
perfectly sound at once ? Doubtless, his hands and feet
were much torn by bearing his weight so long on iron
spikes driven through them. And if he rose from the
dead in no supernatural sense, whither did he go when he
rose ? What became of him ? We have no account of
his dying again ; nor was he yet to be found after a few
weeks. § 8. If Christianity was not true, it would never afford
so much matter for rational and penetrating minds to be
exercised upon. If it were false, such minds would find it
empty, and it would be a force upon the intellect to be set
upon meditating upon that which has no other order,
foundation, and mutual dependence to be discovered in its
parts, than what is accidental. A strong and piercing mind
would feel itself exceedingly bound and hindered. But in
fact, there is the like liberty in the study of Christianity,
and as much improvement of the mind, as in the study of
natural philosophy, or any study whatsoever ; yea, a great
deal more. And whatever may be said about Mahometan
divinity, I cannot be convinced but that a mind that has the
faculty and habit of clear and distinct reasoning, would
find nothing but chains, fetters, and confusion, if it should
pretend to fix its reason upon it.
§ 9. Seeing the beauty of the corporeal world consists
chiefly in representing spiritual beauties, and the beauties
of minds are infinitely the greatest ; we therefore may con
clude, that God, when he created the world, showed his
own perfection and beauties far the most charmingly and
clearly, in the spiritual part of the world. But seeing
spiritual beauty consists principally in virtue and holiness ;
and seeing there is so little of this beauty to be seen now
on earth ; hence we may fairly conclude, that there has been
a great fall and defection in this part of the spiritual world,
from its primitive beauty and charms.
Corollary. Seeing this is so agreeable to the account
that the christian religion gives of the matter ; and seeing
it is evident, from many arguments, that God intends not
to give over man as lost, but has a merciful intention of re
storing him to his primitive beauty ; and seeing we are told
this, and the manner of it, in the christian religion alone;
and seeing the account is so rational ; it is a great confirma
tion of the truth of Christianity.

§ 10. It is a convincing argument for the truth of the
christian religion, and that it stands upon a most sure
basis, that none have ever yet been able to prove it false,
though there have been many men of all sorts, many fine
wits and men of great learning, that have spent themselves,
and ransacked the world, for arguments against it, and this
for many ages.
§ 11. It is exceedingly improbable, that it should ever
enter into the head of any mortal, to invent such a strange
system of visions, as that of the Revelation of St. John, of
which he himself could give no account of the meaning or
design, and did not pretend to it. What design could he
have in it ? But, if he had a design, the frame of the
vision is not a whit like a random invention, without any
view or design as to interpretation.
§ 12. It does not seem to me at all likely, that any per
son among the Jews, so long ago, should have so perfect a
knowledge of nature, and the secret springs of human affec
tions, as to be able to feign any thing so perfectly and ex
quisitely agreeable to nature, as the incidents in Joseph's
history, and the other histories of the Bible ; particularly
the history of Genesis.
§ 13. Such kind of miracles as healing the sick, the
blind, the deaf, dumb, lame, ike. ; and creating bread and
flesh, and turning water into wine, are greater, than those
that are so much more pompous, as causing universal dark
ness, dividing the sea, the shaking and burning of mount
Sinai, &c. The healing of the sick and distracted, do more
especially manifest divine power, for this cause, that we
have reason to conclude mankind especially are subject to
God's providence, and that their heaith and the exercise of
their reason, are alone in his hands, and that it is not in the
power of any evil spirit to give them and take them at his
pleasure, however great power he may be supposed to have
over the inanimate creatures.
When a person appears, that has evidently the whole
course of nature at all times subject to his command, so
that he can alter it how and when he pleases, we have the
greatest reason to think that person has divine authority,
and that the author and upholder of nature favours him,
and gives approbation to what he pretends thereby. For
we know, that the course of nature is God's established
course of acting upon creatures ; and we cannot think that
he would give power to any evil spirit to alter it when he
pleases, for evil purposes. But Christ manifestly had the
course of nature so subject to his will and command.
§ 14. It would not have been proper for Christ constant
ly to dwell among men after his resurrection. Men would
be exceedingly apt to fall into idolatry ; and, because they
saw the man Christ Jesus, would be apt to direct their
worship to the human nature. Therefore we are not to see
the man Christ Jesus till we are perfected, and are not
liable to temptation on such occasions. For this reason,
probably, it was not convenient for Christ to appear in
great majesty and glory when on earth, but the contrary ;
for this reason, Christ endeavoured to hide his transfigura
tion, and many other miracles, till after he was risen ; and
for this reason, he did not converse constantly with his dis
ciples after his resurrection, as before. All these things
were done in a manner the most wise and fit that can be
imagined .
§ 15. If human reason, by any thing that has happened
since the creation, be really very much corrupted ; and if
God is still propitious, and does not throw us off, but re
serves us for that end for which he made us ; it cannot be
imagined that he would leave us to our reason as the onlv
rule to guide us in that business, which is the highest end
Of life : for it is not to be depended upon ; and yet we ex
ceedingly need something that may be depended upon, in
reference to our everlasting welfare. It does not seem to
me reasonable to suppose, that if God be merciful after we
have forfeited his favour, he will manifest his mercy only in
some mitigations of that misery into which we have plung
ed ourselves, leaving us inevitably to endure the rest : but
that he will quite restore us, in case of our acceptance of
his offered favour.
§ 16. It seems much the most rational to suppose, that
the universal law by which mankind are to be governed,
should be a written law. For if that rule, by which God
intends the world shall be regulated, and kept in decent

462

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Part I.

and happy order, be supposed to be expressed no other
way than by nature; man's prejudices will render it, in
innumerable circumstances, a most uncertain thing. For
though " it must be granted, that men who are willing to
transgress, may abuse written as well as unwritten laws,
and expound them so as may best serve their turn upon
occasion ; yet it must be allowed, that, in the nature ofthe
thing, revelation is a better guard than a bare scheme of
principles without it. For men must take move pains to
conquer the sense of a standing, written law, which is ready
to confront them upon all occasions. They must more in
dustriously tamper with their passions, and blind their
understandings, before they can bring themselves to be
lieve what they have a mind to believe, in contradiction lo
the words of an express and formal declaration of God
Almighty's will, than there can be any pretence or occa
sion for, when they have no more than their own thoughts
and ideas to manage. These are flexible things, and a man
may much more easily turn and wind them as he pleases,
than he can evade a plain and positive law, which deter
mines the kinds and measures of his duty, and threatens
disobedience in such terms as require long practice and
experience to make handsome salvos and distinctions to
get over."* And upon this account also, that it is fit in
every case, when the law is made known, that also the
sanctions, the rewards and punishments, should be known
at the same time. But nature could never have deter
mined these with any certainty.
§ 17. Raising the dead to life, is given in the Old Tes
tament, as a certain proof of the authority and mission of
a prophet; and that what he says is the truth. 1 Kings
xvii. 24. " And the woman said 'to Elijah, By this I know
that thou art a man of God, and that the word of the Lord
in thy mouth is truth." So that if the Old Testament is
the_ word of God, Jesus was a true prophet.
§ 18. The being of God is evident by the Scriptures,
and the Scriptures themselves are an evidence of their own
divine authority, after the same manner as the existence of
a human thinking being is evident by the motions, beha
viour, and speech of a body animated by a rational mind.
For we know this no otherwise, than by the consistency,
harmony, and concurrence ofthe train of actions and sounds,
and their agreement to all that we can suppose to be in a
rational mind. These are a clear evidence of understand
ing and design, which are the original of these actions.
There is that universal harmony, consent, and concurrence
in the drift, such an universal appearance of a wonderful
and glorious design, such stamps every where of exalted
wisdom, majesty, and holiness, in matter, manner, contex
ture, and aim ; that the evidence is the same, that the
Scriptures are the word and work of a divine mind — to
one that is thoroughly acquainted with them — as that the
words and actions of an understanding man are from a
rational mind. An infant, when it first comes into the
world, sees persons act, and hears their voice, before it has
so much comprehension as to see something of their con
sistence, harmony, and concurrence. It makes no distinc
tion between their bodies, and other things; their motions
and sounds, and the motions and sounds of inanimate
things. But as its comprehension increases, the under
standing and design begin to appear. So it is with men
that are as little acquainted with the Scriptures, as infants
with the actions of human bodies. They cannot see any
evidence of a divine mind, as the original of it ; because
they have not comprehension enough to apprehend the
harmony, wisdom, &c.
§ 19. Were it not for divine revelation, I am persuaded,
that there is no one doctrine of that which we cali natural
religion, which, notwithstanding all philosophy and learn
ing, would not be for ever involved in darkness, doubts,
endless disputes, and dreadful confusion. Many things
now they are revealed, seem very plain. It is one thing'
to see that a truth is exceedingly agreeable to reason, after
we have had it explained to us, and have been told
the reasons of it; and another, to find it out, and clearly
and certainly to explain it by mere reason. It is one thing,
to prove a thing after we are shown how ; and another, to
find it out, and prove it of ourselves.
* Ditton on the Resurrection.

If there never had been any revelation, I believe the
world would have been full of endless disputes about the
very being of a God ; whether the world was from eternity
or not ; and whether the form and order of the world did
not result from the mere nature of matter. Ten thousand
different schemes there would have been about it. And if
it were allowed that there was a first cause of all things,
there would have been endless disputes, and abundance of
uncertainty, to determine what sort of a thing that first
cause was. Some, it may be, would have thought tnat it
was properly an intelligent mind and a voluntary agent.
Others might say, that it was some principle of things, of
which we could have no kind of ideas. Some would have
called it a voluntary agent ; some, a principle exerting it»
self by a natural necessity. There might have been many
schemes contrived about this, and some would like one
best, and some another ; and amongst those that held, that
the original of all things was superior intelligence and will,
there probably would have been everlasting doubts and
disputes, whether there was one only, or more. Some per
haps would have said, there was but one ; some that there
weie two; the one the principle of good, the other the
principle of evil : others, that there was a society, or a
world of them. And among those that held that there was
but one mind, there would be abundance of uncertainty
what sort of a being he was ; whether he was good or evil;
whether he was just or unjust ; holy or wicked ; gracious
or cruel; or whether he was partly good, and partly evil;
and how far he concerned himself with the world, after he
had made it ; and how far things were owing to his provi
dence, or whether at all ; how far he concerned himself
with mankind ; what was pleasing to him in them, and
what was displeasing ; or whether he cared any thingahout
it, whether he delighted in justice and order or not ; and
whether he would reward the one, and punish the other;
and how, and when, and where, and to what degree.
There would have been abundance of doubt and dispute
concerning what this mind expected from us, and how we
should behave towards him ; or whether he expected we
should anywise concern ourselves with him : whether we
ever ought to apply ourselves to him any way ; whether we
ought to speak to him, as expecting lhat he would take
any notice of us : how we should show our respect to him ;
whether we ought to praise and commend him in our ad
dresses ; whether we ought to ask that of him which we
need ; whether or no he would forgive any, after they had
offended him; when they had reason to think they were
forgiven, and what they should do that they might be for
given ; and whether it is ever worth the while for them that
are so often offending, to try for it; whether there were not
some sins so great, that God never would upon any terms
forgive them, and how great they must be in order to that.
Men would be exceedingly at a loss to know when they
were in favour with him, and upon what terms they could
be in his favour. They would be in a dreadful uncertainty
about a future stale; whether there be any, and, if there
be, whether it is a state of rewards and punishments; and
if it is, what kind of state it is, and how men are lo be
rewarded and punished, to what degree, and how long;
whether man's soul be eternal or not; and if it be, whether
it is to remain in another world in a fixed slate, or change
often. Every man would plead for the lawfulness of this or that
practice, just as suited his fancy, and agreed with his
interest and appetites ; and there would be room for a great
deal of uncertainty and difference of opinion among those
that were most speculative and impartial. There would
be uncertainty, in a multitude of instances, what was just,
and what unjust. It would be very uncertain how far self-
interest should govern men, and how far love to our neigh
bour ; how far revenge would be right, and whether or no
a man might hate his neighbour, and for what causes : what
degree of passion and ambition was justifiable and laud
able : what sensual enjoyments were lawful, and what not :
how far we ought to honour, respect, and submit to our
parents, and other superiors : how far it would be lawi-
ful to dissemble and deceive. It seems to me, there
would be infinite confusion in these things ; and that

Chap. I-

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

463

there would hardly be any such thing as conscience in the
world. The world has had a great deal of experience of the ne
cessity of a revelation ; we may see it in all ages, that have
been "without a revelation. In what gross darkness and
brutal stupidity have such places, in these matters, always
been overwhelmed ! and how many, and how great and
foolish mistakes, and what endless uncertainty and differ
ences of opinion, have there been among the most learned
and philosophical ! Yet there never was a real trial how it
would be with mankind in this respect, without having
any thing from revelation. I believe that most of those
parts of natural religion, that were held by the heathens
before Christ, were owing to tradition from those of their
forefathers who had the light of revelation. And many of
those being most evidently agreeable to reason, were more
easily upheld and propagated. Many of their wise men
who had influence and ruie over them, saw their rectitude
and agreeableness to reason better than others. Some of
them travelled much, and those things which appeared
most agreeable to their reason, they transplanted to their
own country. Judea was a sort of light among the na
tions, though they did not know it. The practice and
principles of that country kept the neighbouring nations in
remembrance of traditions, which they had from their fore
fathers; and so kept them from degenerating so much
as otherwise they would have done. In fact, the philoso
phers had the foundation of most of their truths, from the
ancients, or from the Phoenicians, or what they picked up
here and there of the relics of revelation.
How came all the heathen nations to agree in the cus
tom of sacrificing? The light of nature did not teach it
them ; without doubt they had it from tradition ; and
therefore, it needs not seem strange, that what of natural
religion they had amongst them, came the same way. I
am persuaded, that mankind would have been like a herd
of beasts, with respect to their knowledge in all important
truths, if there never had been any such thing as revelation
in the world ; and that they never would have risen out of
their brutality. We see, that those who live at the great
est distance from revelation, are far the most brutish. The
heathens in America, and in some of the utmost parts of
Asia and Africa, are far more barbarous than those who
formerly lived in Rome, Greece, Egypt, Syria, and Chal
dea. Their traditions are more worn out, and they are
more distant from places enlightened with revelation. The
Chinese, descended probably from the subjects of Noah,
that holy man, have held more by tradition from him, than
other nations, and so have been a more civilized people.
The increase of learning and philosophy in the christian
world, is owing to revelation. The doctrines of revealed
religion are the foundation of all useful and excellent
knowledge. The word of God leads barbarous nations in
to the way of using their understandings. It brings their
minds into a way of reflecting and abstracted reasoning ;
and delivers from uncertainty in the first principles, such
as, the being of God, the dependence of all things upon
him, being subject to his influence and providence, and
being ordered by his wisdom. Such principles as these
are the basis of all true philosophy, as appears more and
more as philosophy improves. Revelation delivers man
kind from that distraction and confusion, which discour
ages all attempts to improve in knowledge. Revelation
actually gives men a most rational account of religion and
morality, and the highest philosophy, and all the greatest
things that belong to learning concerning God, the world,
human nature, spirits, providence, time, and eternity. Re
velation not only gives us the foundation and first princi
ples of all learning, but it gives us the end, the only end,
that would be sufficient to move man to. the pursuit.
Revelation redeems nations from a vicious, sinful, and
brutish way of living, which will effectually keep out
learning. It is therefore unreasonable to suppose, that
philosophy might supply the defect of revelation. Know
ledge is easy to us that understand by revelation ; but we
do not know what brutes we should have been, if there
never had been any revelation .
§ 20. As Moses was so intimately conversant with God,
and so continually under the divine conduct, it cannot be
thought, that when he wrote the history of the creation and

fall of man, and the history of the church from the creation,
he should not be under the divine direction in such an affair.
§ 21. It is certainly necessary, that in the word of God,
we should have a history of the life of Christ, of his in
carnation, his death, his resurrection, and ascension, and
his actions, and of the instructions he gave the world.
If God expects that we shall receive any New Testament
at all, we must suppose that God's providence would be
concerned in this matter. God took this care with respect
to the books of the Old Testament, that no books should
be received by the Jewish church, and delivered down in
the canon of the Old Testament, but what were his word,
and owned by Christ. We may therefore conclude, that
he would stilt take the same care of his church, with re
spect to the New Testament.
§ 22. It seems to me an unaccountable dulness, that
when intelligent men read David's Psalms, and other
prayers and songs of the Old Testament, they are not at
once convinced, that the Jews had the true worship and
communion of the one great and holy God ; and that no
other nation upon earth had them. It seems as clear as
the sun at noon-day ; and so indeed from all the histories
and prophecies of the Old Testament.
§ 23. We need not wonder at all, that God should so
often reveal himself by prophets and miracles, to the Is
raelitish nation, and that now we should see nothing of
this nature ; for this way of revealing himself is not at all
suitable to the present state of the church. The church
was then confined to one particular nation, that God chose
on purpose to make them the receptacle of his revelation,
and the conveyancer of it to the rest of the world. And I
can think of no other way that it could be done with any
tolerable convenience, but by a chosen peculiar nation,
that should alone be God's people, and have the true re
ligion among them. Therefore, it was highly convenient
and necessary, that there should be such a manner of com
munication with such a nation. It was also necessary, in
the first transition of this revelation from the Jews to the
world, as it was in the apostles' times, that the world re
ceiving this revelation from them, might see God still
revealing himself; and so might receive it from God, in
the same manner as they received it. But that God should
now reveal himself after that manner to his church, is no
way necessary, nor at all suitable to the gospel state of the
church, which is not any particular enclosure, but is dis
persed through the whole world. How is it practicable
that God should treat with the church now, in such a way
as he did with that peculiar nation ? Besides, if it were
practicable, it would be very inexpedient ; for, what need
of new revelations to the end of the world ? Is it not bet
ter that God should give the world a book, that should be
the summary of his will, to which all nations in all ages
may resort ? Prophecy and miracles are nothing without
charity ; like the shadow without the substance : and see
ing the substance is come, what need the shadow should
be continued ? Seeing the end is come, it would be
impertinent still to continue the means. The church
now enjoys that glory, in comparison with which all the
glory of prophecy and miracles, even those of that extra
ordinary prophet Moses, is no glory at all, 2 Cor. iii. 10.
§ 24. If there be any such thing needful, or at all pro
per and suitable, that God should reveal himself to man
kind ; it is perhaps impossible that he should do it in any
other way, or with any other kind of evidence, than he has
done it. No kind of miracle can be thought of, that would
be more evidential, than those by which Christianity has
been confirmed.
§ 25. It is no argument against the reality of the incar
nation of Jesus Christ — whereby God became the same
person with a man — that there is nothing else like it any
where to be seen ; because it was evidently God's design
to show his wisdom, by doing a thing that was, and for
ever would have been, far beyond the thoughts of any
creatures. Man's fall was God's opportunity to show
how far his contrivance and wisdom was beyond that of
all creatures.
§ 26. It was often prophesied among the children of
Israel, that the gods of the nations round about should
perish from off the earth ; and that they should cease to
be acknowledged and worshipped : but that the worship

464

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

and acknowledgment of their God should remain for ever,
and should, in due time, take place of those others. Jer.
x. 11. "The gods that have not made the heavens and the
_arth, even they shall perish from the earth, and from un
der these heavens." This came to pass by means of the
Christian religion. It is Christ's appearing, and the
preaching of his doctrine in the world, that has been the
means of it all. It is by means of these that the Ma
hometan parts of the worid came to acknowledge the One
God : and it is by these means, that even the deists
come to it. — Again, it has been only by means of Jesus
Christ's appearing and teaching, that the world ever came
to have any clear, distinct, and rational notions about a
future state ; notions every way agreeable to reason.
It is a confirmation that God designed the christian re
ligion should succeed the Jewish ; that, speedily after the
introduction of the christian religion, God, in his provi
dence, by the destruction of the temple, and dispersion of
the Jewish nation, made that religion impracticable. It
was prophesied of old, that God should be acknowledged
and worshipped by other nations, and that other nations
were to be God's people. Therefore there was a reli
gion to succeed the Jewish, very different as to exter
nal worship ; because the Jewish religion was not fitted for
more than a single nation ; nor is it practicable by the
world in general. But the christian religion is exceed
ingly fitted for universal practice.
§ 27. There are these things remarkable in Christ's
raising Lazarus from the dead, John xi. viz. that he called
upon God, before he did it, to do it for him ; and thanked
him that he had heard him ; and told him, that he knew
that he heard him always : and when he spake to him he
called him Father ; and told him that he spake to him for
that end, that others that stood by, when they should see
that what he asked of him, was granted in such an extra
ordinary thing, might believe that he sent him. Now,
can it be imagined, that God would thus hear an impostor ?
§ 28. It is an evidence that the apostles had their doc
trine from inspiration of some invisible guide and in
structor, that there was such a vast and apparent difference
made in them at once after Pentecost. They were illiterate,
simple, undesigning, ignorant men before ; but afterward,
how do they express themselves in their speeches and
epistles ! they do not speak as being in the least at a loss
about the scheme of salvation, and the gospel-mysteries.
With what authority do they teach ! in how learned and
intelligent a manner ! How came Saul by his scheme,
and by all his knowledge of the christian doctrines and
mysteries, immediately upon his conversion ?
§ 29. Christ joined pardoning sins with his healing the
sick. When one came to be healed, he first told him,
that his sins were forgiven ; and when the Jews found
fault that he should pretend to forgive sins, then, immedi
ately, he heals the person's disease, that they might be
lieve that he had the power to forgive sins, and tells them
that he does it for this end. Matt. ix. 2. Mark ii. 3.
Luke v. 18. Now, if Christ were an impostor, can it be
believed, that God would so countenance such horrid
blasphemy as this would be, to enable him to cure the dis
ease by a word speaking ? a work which God appropriates
to himself as his own, Psal. ciii. 3. Would God give an
impostor this attestation to a blasphemous lie, when he
pretended to do it as an attestation to his divine mission ?
§ 30. Christ, by the works which he wrought, showed
that he had an absolute and sovereign power over the
course of nature, and over the spiritual and invisible
world, and over the bodies and souis of men. It was not
so with other prophets ; they could not work what miracles
they pleased, and when they pleased. They could work
miracles, only when they were excited and directed to it
by a special command or impulse from heaven. But
Christ wrought them as of his own power at all times.
Men came to him, under the notion that he was able ; and
Christ required that they should believe in order to it ; to
which never any prophet pretended. Moses was shut out
of the land of Canaan, partly for working a miracle in his
own name, and not sanctifying the Lord God. " Must we
fetch water out of this rock?" The prophets never pre
tended that they themselves had properly any power to
work miracles; hut disclaimed it. God never subjected

the course of nature to them, to work miracles by their
own word and command upon all occasions. Care was
taken in all the miracles wrought by the prophets, that it
should be visible, that what was done, was done only by
God ; and that what they said or did, upon which the
miracle was wrought, was by particular revelation from
heaven. They who came to Christ, that he might work
miracles for them, did it in the faith, that by his own power
and holiness he was able to do it for them. The leper
said, Matt. viii. 2. " Lord, if thou wilt thou canst make
me clean." He believed that Christ could work miracles
when he would. This Christ approved of. Matt. viii.
8. " But speak the word onlv, and my servant shall be
healed." Matt. ix. 18. " My daughter is even now dead ;
but come and lay thine hand on her, and she shall live."
Matt. ix. 28. " Believe ye that I am able to do this ? they
said unto him, Yea, Lord." Matt. ix. 21. " If I may but
touch his garment, I shall be whole." In Matt. xvi. 9. ;
Christ reproves his disciples, because they were afraid of
wanting bread, not remembering how he had fed multi
tudes in the wilderness : which implies, that he was able
to do the like again when he pleased. He cast out devils
as of his own power and authority ; Mark i. 27. " With
authority commandeth he even the unclean spirits, and
they do obey him." And Christ, as having power of his
own to work miracles, gave power to his disciples, as Matt.
x. Mark iii. 14. and vi. 7, &c. ; and Luke ix. and x.
and so miracles were wrought in Christ's name, by the
apostles, and many other disciples. Moses did not in the
least pretend to any such thing. But Christ did pretend,
and he declares himself fellow with God in working ; John
v. 17. " My Father worketh hitherto, and I work."
§ 31. If there must be a revelation, it is convincing, that
the christian revelation is the true one ; that it has been
by means of this revelation, and this only, that the world
has come to the knowledge of the one only true God.
Till this came, all the world lay in ignorance of him. But
when this came, it was successful to bring the world to the
acknowledgment of him. If there be a true revelation in
the world, it is not to be supposed, that by a false one, an
imposture, the world should come to the knowledge of the
true God. If the christian revelation be not the proper
means to bring the world to the knowledge of the true God,
it is strange that the world, which was before ignorant of
him, should be brought to the knowledge of him by it;
and no part of it ever be brought to the knowledge of him
by any other means.
§ 32. It is an argument for the truth of the christian re
velation, that there is nothing else that informs us, what
God designs by that series of revolutions and events that
are brought to pass in the world ; what end he seeks, and
what scheme he has laid out ; agreeably to the challenge
which God makes to the gods, and prophets, and teachers
of the heathen world, Isa. xii. 22, 23. It is most fit, that
the intelligent beings of the world should be made ac
quainted with it. The thing that is God's great design, is
something concerning them ; and the revolutions by which
it is to be brought to pass, are revolutions among them,
and in their state. The state of the inanimate, unperceiv-
ing part of the world, is nothing regarded any otherwise,
than in a subserviency to the perceiving and intelligent
part. And it is most rational to suppose, that God should
reveal the design he has been carrying on, to his rational .
creatures ; that as God has made them capable of it, they
may actively fall in with and promote it, acting herein as
the subjects and friends of God.— The christian revelation
is a design most worthy of an infinitely wise, holy, and
perfect being.
§ 33. The doctrine of the general resurrection at the end
of the world, upon many accounts, seems to me a most
credible doctrine. There are a multitude of resemblances
of it in nature and providence, which, I doubt not, were"
designed to be types of it. It seems credible on this
account, that the work ofthe Redeemer is wholly a restor
ing work from beginning to end ; and that he would
repair all the ruins brought en the world by sin.
§ 34. If the New Testament be not a divine revelation,
then God never yet has given the world any clear revela
tion of a future state. But if a revelation be needful
upon any account, it is that we may have some certain and

Chap. 1 .

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

465

distinct knowledge of the future invisible world. If God
designed a true revelation, it is not probable that he would
suffer that any false revelation should anticipate it, and do
the work beforehand. And, upon many other accounts
that might be mentioned, it is incredible that the true reve
lation should still be deferred.
§ 35. It is very unreasonable to make it an objection
against the christian revelation, that it contains some things
that are very mysterious and difficult to our understand
ings, and that seem to us impossible. If God will give
us a revelation from heaven of the very truth, concerning
his own nature, acts, counsels, and ways, and of the spirit
ual and invisible world ; it is unreasonable to expect any
other, than that many things in such a revelation should
be utterly beyond our understanding. For, was there ever
a time, when, if there had been a revelation of the very
truth in philosophical matters — concerning created things,
which are of a vastly lower nature, and must be supposed
more proportioned to our understandings — there would
not have appeared many things; not only to the vulgar,
but to the learned of that age, absurd and impossible ? if
many of those positions in philosophy, which are now re
ceived by the learned world as indubitable truths, had been
revealed from heaven to be truths in past ages, they would
have seemed as impossible as the most mysterious chris
tian doctrines do now. I believe, that if, even now, there
should come a revelation from heaven of what is the very
truth in these matters, without deviating at all to accommo
date it to our received notions and principles, there would
be many things in it that would seem absurd and contra
dictory. I now receive principles as certain, which once,
if they had been told me, I should have regarded as diffi
cult as any mystery in the Bible. Without doubt, much
of the difficulty that we have about the doctrines of
Christianity, arises from wrong principles that we receive.
We find that those things which are received as principles
in one age, and are never once questioned, are yet ex
ploded in another age, as light increases. If God make a
revelation to us, he must reveal to us the truth as it is,
without accommodating himself to our notions and prin
ciples ; which would indeed be impossible : for those
things which are our received notions in one age, are con
trary to what are so in another ; and the word of God was
not given for any particular age, but for all ages. It
surely becomes us to receive what God reveals to be truth,
and to look upon his word as proof sufficient; whether
what he reveals squares with our notions or not.
I rather wonder that the word of God contains no more
mysteries in it; and I believe it is because God is so
tender of us, and reveals only such things as he sees that
man, though so weak a creature, if of an humble and an
honest mind, can well enough bear. Such tenderness we
see in Christ towards his disciples ; he had many things to
say, but forbore, because they could not bear "them yet.
Though God does not depart from truth to accommodate
himself to our manner of thinking, yet I believe he ac
commodates himself to our way of understanding, in his
manner of expressing and representing things ; as we are
wont to do, when teaching little children.
§ 36. What can be more reasonable, than to believe a
man, when he tells us, that he is sent from God to heai
the diseases of our souls, and, in order that we may believe
him, heals all sorts of men, of all manner of diseases, by
a touch or a word ; and plainly shows that he can do it
when he will, let the disease be what it will ? He tells us,
that he will deliver us from spiritual and eternal death ;
that he will raise us from the dead, and give us eternal
life ; so that we shall live for ever, and not die : and to
firove this, he gives evidence that he has power over men's
ives, by restoring them after they are dead; and rises
from the dead himself. He tells us, that he will bestow
heavenly glory upon us ; and will translate us to heaven :
and, to confirm us in this belief, tells us, that we shall see
himself, after his death, ascend into heaven. What more
could we desire ? He tells us that he will undertake for us,
and appear for us before God; and that we need not
doubt, if he pleads for us, he shall procure acceptance,
and, that we may see that it is true, he asks of God, con
cerning a mah who had been dead four days, that he may
come to life again ; and tells God, that he asks it for this
VOL. II. 2 H

end that we may see that he always nears him, and grants
what he requests : and accordingly, at his request, the
dead man comes to life.
§ 37. " What argument more proper (says Dr. Tillotson)
to convince them of another life after this, than to see a
man raised from the dead and restored to a new life?
What fitter to satisfy a man concerning heaven and the
happy state of those there, than to see one visibly taken
up into heaven ? And what more fit to assure us that the
promises of the gospel are real, and shall be made good to
us, than to see him who made those promises to us, raise
himself from the dead, and go up into heaven, and from
thence dispense miraculous gifts abroad in the world, as
evidences of the power and authority with which he is
invested ? All the philosophical arguments which a man
can bring for the soul's immortality and another life, will
have no force upon vulgar apprehensions, in comparison
of these sensible demonstrations, which give an experiment
of the thing, and furnish us with an instance of something
of the same kind, and of equal difficulty with that which
is propounded to our belief."
§ 38. Why was not Christ, after he rose from the dead,
during his stay upon earth, with his disciples, as he was
before ? The very different states that Christ and his dis
ciples were now in, would not allow of it. Christ, before
his death, while in his humiliation, was in a like state with
them. He was subject to hunger and thirst, as they were ;
he needed sleep as they did ; he needed the like defence
from the weather that they did, and the like : but when
he was risen from the dead, the case was exceedingly alter
ed; he then began his exaltation. He put off mortality,
and all the infirmities of his body. The nature of his body
was different from theirs, as things celestial differ from
things terrestrial. Mortal beings are not apt for a cohabit
ation with immortal ; nor terrestrial with celestial ; nor
corruption with incorruption. God will not thus mix and
confound heaven and earth.
§ 39. Much of the Scriptures is apt to seem insipid to
us now, as though there were no great matter of instruc
tion in it ; because the points of instruction most plainly
contained in it, are old to us, and what we have been
taught from our infancy. The doctrines are so plain to
us now, that there seems to have been no need of a par
ticular revelation of such things ; especially of insisting
upon them so much. But how exceedingly different
would it have seemed if we had lived in those times when
the revelation was given, when the things were in a great
measure new, at least as to that distinctness and expressive
ness of their revelation ? If we had an idea of the state of
the world, when God gave the revelation, they would
appear glorious instructions, bringing great light into the
worhi, and most worthy of God.
§ 40. It was not allowed under the Old Testament, to
hate personal enemies, to wish for revenge, or to pray for
their hurt ; except as speaking in the name of the Lord .
So that there is no inconsistence between the religion of
the Old Testament and New, in this respect. The apostle
Paul himself doth thus imprecate vengeance on his ene
mies ; 2 Tim. iv. 14. " Alexander the coppersmith did me
much evil ; the Lord reward him according to his works."
Revenge, or a desire of it, was forbidden by the law of
Moses, Levit. xix. 18.; yea, there, the love of our enemy
is implicitly commanded. Doing good to enemies is re
quired, Exod. xxiii. 4,5." If thou meet thine enemy's ox or
his ass going astray, thou shalt surely bring it back to him
again. If thou seest the ass of him that hateth thee lying
under his burden, and wouldst forbear to help him, thou
shalt surely help with him." And this was agreeable to
the sense of the saints of those times, as appears from Job
xxxi. 29. " If I rejoiced at the destruction of him that
hated me, or lifted up myself when evil found him."
Prov. xxiv. 17. " Rejoice not when thine enemy faileth,
nor let thine heart be glad when he stumbleth." And
xvii. 5. " He that is glad at calamities, shall not go un
punished." We cannot think that those imprecations we
find in the Psalms and Prophets, were out of their own
hearts ; for cursing is spoken of as a very dreadful sin in
the Old Testament ; and David, whom we hear oftener
than any other praying for vengeance on his enemies, by
the history of his life, was of a spirit very remote from

466

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

spiteful and revengeful. He himself in the Psalms gives
us an account of his wishing well to his enemies, and
doing good to them, Psalm vii. 4. ; praying for them, and
grieving at their calamities, Psalm xxxv. 13, 44. And
some of the most terrible imprecations that we find in all
the Old Testament, are in the New spoken of as prophet
ical, even those in the 109th Psalm ; as in Acts i. 20. Jer.
xii. 3 . We have instances of this kind even in the apostles
and the disciples of the Lamb of God, as 2 Tim. iv. 14.
Peter says to Simon Magus, " Thy money perish with
thee." They wish them ill, not as personal, but as public,
enemies to the church of God. Sometimes what they say
is in the name of the church, see Jer. v. 34, 35. ; Matt. i.
19. "Then Joseph her husband, being a just man, and
not willing to make her a public example, was minded to
put her away privily." This is a remarkable and eminent
instance of a christian spirit ; and this verse is an evidence,
that that meekness, gentleness, forgiveness, and kindness
to enemies which the gospel prescribes, were duties under
the law, and before Christ came.
§ 41. I once told a boy of about thirteen years of age,
that a piece of any matter two inches square, was eight
times as large as one of but one inch square ; or that it
might be cut into eight pieces, all of them as big as that
of but one inch square. He seemed at first not to think
me in earnest, and to suspect that I only meant to make
game of him. But when I had taken considerable pains
to convince him that I was in earnest, and that I knew
what I said to be true, he seemed to be astonished at my
positiveness ; and exclaimed about the impossibility and
absurdity of it ; and would argue, how was it possible for
two inches to be eight inches ? and all that I could say,
did not prevail upon him, to make him believe it. I sup
pose it seemed to him as great a contradiction, that what
was but just twice so long, and twice so broad, and twice
so thick, should yet be eight times so big ; as that twice
one should make eight, or any other absurdity whatsoever.
And when I afterwards showed him the truth of it, by
cutting out two cubes, one an inch, and another two inches
square ; and let him examine the measures, and see that
the measures were exact, and that there was no deceit ;
and cut the two inch cube into eight equal parts, and he
counted the parts over and over, and took the parts one
by one and compared them with the one inch cube, and
spent some time in counting and comparing ; he seemed
to be astonished, as though there were some witchcraft in
the case ; and hardly to believe it after all. For he did
not yet at all see the reason of it. I believe it was a much
more difficult mystery to him, than the Trinity ordinarily
is to men ; and seemed to him more evidently a con
tradiction, than any mystery of religion to a Socinian or
deist. >
§ 42. Some may be ready to object against the christian
religion, that there seem to be innumerable difficulties and
inconsistencies attending it, but that a multitude of heads
have been employed for many ages, till at length such
solutions have been found out for many of them, as are in
some measure plausible.
To this I answer, That as there has been a long time to
answer objections, so there has been a long time to
strengthen them. As there have been many ages to solve
difficulties, so there have been as many to find out diffi
culties and inconsistencies. Besides, there has been all
this time to make difficulties more plain, and bring out
inconsistencies more to the light ; and by thorough and
exact consideration to make them more manifest and ap
parent. Time wonderfully brings truth to light, and wears
off by degrees false colourings and disguises. The truth
will always have most advantage by time. Appearing
inconsistencies, being well founded, will grow plainer and
plainer, and difficulties more and more evident. Time
will discover more circumstances to strengthen and con
firm them, and so pretences of solution will appear more
and more evidently absurd and ridiculous. When parties
contend by argument and inquiry, time greatly helps that
party which has truth on its side, and weakens the con
trary. It gradually wears away the sandy foundation, and
rots away the building that is not made of substantial ma
terials. The christian religion has evermore, in all ages,
had its enemies, and that among learned men. Yea, it is

observable, that there have commonly been some of the
most subtle of men to scan the christian scheme, and to
discover the objections that lie against it, and have done it
with a good will to overthrow it.— Thus it was in Judea,
in the infancy of the church. The scribes and Pharisees,
and the wise men among the Jews, employed all their
wisdom against it. Thus, in the first ages of the church,
not many wise, not many mighty, not many noble were
called. Christianity had the wisdom, learning, and sub
tlety of the world to oppose it. In latter ages, how many
learned and subtle men have done their utmost against
Christianity ! So that the length of time for persons to
strengthen their own side in this controversy, brought as
an objection against Christianity, is much more an argu
ment for it, than an objection against it.
§ 43. If there be a revelation from God to the world, it
is most reasonable to suppose, and natural to expect, that
he should therein make known not only what manner of
being he is, but also that he should lead mankind to an
understanding of his works of creation and providence.
These things the christian revelation opens to us in such a
manner as might be expected. This alone gives any tolerahle
account of the work of creation, and this reveals to us the
scheme of providence, and what is God's main design in
the whole, a design worthy of himself. And we are shown
how these events all point to this main work of power,
wisdom, and grace. We have a particular account how
this greatest work has actually been wrought in the fulness
of time, as to those great acts which are the main ground
of it ; and how that was foretold in the several ages of the
world. These things are exceedingly agreeable to a rational sup
position, in case God makes a revelation to mankind. But
if the Scriptures are not a revelation of God, then man, the
principal creature God has made in this world, the only
intelligent creature, to whom he has subjected this lower
part of the creation, is left wholly and entirely in the dark
about God's works both of creation and providence, and
has nothing whereby to judge what God's scheme is, in all
the great changes he sees come to pass in the world, or
what he aims to accomplish. Every thing lies in darkness
and confusion before him, without any possibility of his
determining any thing, or to direct him what to think of
God's works which he beholds, or what affections he should
exercise towards the Supreme Governor, on occasion of
them.

CHAP. II.
The objection concerning the apostles' apprehensions qf the
second coming qf Christ answered.
§. 1. With respect to that objection against the truth of
the Christian religion, That the apostles seem often to
speak of the coming of Christ to judgment, as if they
thought it near at hand ; I will begin with what the apos
tle Paul says that may have such appearance. — In the first
epistle to the Thessalonians, which is reckoned to be the
first of his epistles in the order of time ; and particularly
chap. iv. 15 — 17. he says, " For this we say unto you by
the word of the Lord, that we which are alive, and remain
unto the coming of the Lord, shall not prevent them which
are asleep : for the Lord himself shall descend from heaven
with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the
trump of God ; and the dead in Christ shall rise first :
then we which are alive and remain, shall be caught up
together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the
air : and so shall we be ever with the Lord." He speaks
of those that should then be alive, in the first person plural ;
and of those that should be asleep, in the third person.
Thus it would have been more natural for him to have
said, They which are alive, and remain unto the coming
of the Lord, shall not prevent us, who shall then be asleep.
— And in the 17th verse, Then they which are alive, and
remain, shall be caught up together with us.
§ 2. Considering the scope ofthe apostle in these verses,
all that can be inferred from such a manner of speaking,
is, that it might, for ought was then revealed, be while

Chap. II.

OF CHRIST'S SECOND COMING.

467

thev lived. For the scope of the apostle was to comfort
the" Thessalonians concerning their friends that were al
ready dead, with the consideration, that they should surely
meet them again, at the day of the Lord's coming. And
therefore, it was most proper and natural for the apostle to
speak of them in the third person. And it is but just to
suppose, that it was only the uncertainty of the time, that
was the ground of the apostle's using such a manner of
expression ; because he, in this very context, speaks of the
time as altogether uncertain ; as it follows immediately in
the beginning of the next chapter, " But of the times and
seasons, brethren, ye have no need that I write unto you :
for yourselves know perfectly, that the day of the Lord
so cometh as a thief in the night," &c. The apostle, by
the expression he uses, probably had in his mind those
words of Christ in Acts i. 7. " It is not for you to know
the times and seasons, which the Father hath put in his own
power." § 3. We have an instance of a like nature with this, in
the words of Joseph to his brethren, Gen. 1. 25. " God
will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my bones from
hence." He does not say, God shall visit your posterity,
and they shall carry up my bones from hence. Yet it
cannot be argued, that Joseph concluded that the redemp
tion out of Egypt would be in that generation.
So the nature and design of the apostle's discourse, ne
cessarily gave him to distinguish between those that should
be alive at Christ's coming, and the deceased relations of
the christian Thessalonians. He speaks of them as already
dead, and of their now living friends then meeting them
risen from the dead. — That the apostle did not intend to
be understood, as though it were certain that Christ would
come while they were living, is evident, from what he
himself says, speaking of those very words, and expressly
denying that he intended any such thing; or that he sup
posed it to be certain, lhat the coming of Christ was at
hand, in any such sense. See 2 Thess. ii. 1 — 3. where he very
earnestly warns them not to understand him in any such
sense. " Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of
our Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto
him, that ye be not soon shaken in mind, or be troubled,
neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter, as from us,
as that the day of Christ is at hand. Let no man deceive
you by any means ; for that day shall not come, except
there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be
revealed, the son of perdition," &c.
§ 5. Now it is evident, that the apostle does not thus
write to them the second time, endeavouring to retract any
thing he had written before ; but it must be because he
realiy did not intend so at first ; for this epistle was written
soon after the other, while the same fellow-labourers were
with him. — And both have been supposed to be written
while the apostle abode in Athens, as appears by the post
scripts. And if we well observe the contents of this and
the foregoing epistle, the principal occasion of the apostle's
writing the second so soon after the other, seems to have
been an information he had received, that his former epistle
had been misunderstood in this particular : and being
much concerned about it, and fearing the ill consequences
of such a misunderstanding, he writes to guard them from
the mischief of such a mistake, and to establish them in
it, that it is uncertain when the Lord will come, as he had
told them before in his other epistle. And he argues the
great uncertainty there was, whether it would be in that
age or not, from what the Holy Ghost had revealed about
the coming of antichrist.
§ 0. That this apostle did not expect Christ's coming in
that generation, may be argued from his speaking as though
he expected that those that were then alive, would rise
from the dead at Christ's second coming, as in 1 Cor. vi.
14. " And God hath both raised up the Lord, and will
also raise up us by his own power." And, 2 Cor. iv. 14.
" Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus, shall
raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you."
§ 7. From what the apostle says in this second chapter
of the second epistle to the Thessalonians, there appears a
necessity, that those passages in any other of his epistles,
that look as though he expected that Christ would come in
that age, should be understood in some other sense ; and
that the apostle really did not mean so, as his words on a
2 h 2

cursory view would lead us to suppose. For here the
apostle is very express, and full, and earnest in it, that he
would by no means be so understood. It is a farther
evidence, that those passages in other epistles must be un
derstood in some other sense, that there are passages in this
very epistle, particularly in the first chapter, that we should
be ready to think had such a look, were it not that the
apostle himself, immediately in the second chapter, denies
any such meaning.
§ 8. In this sense we must understand those passages,
in which it is spoken of as a duty of Christians, to look
and wait for the coming of the Lord Jesus; as, Titus ii.
13. 1 Cor. i. 7. Philip, iii. 20. There is a necessity of
understanding, in like manner, the following passages —
which were all written after this to the Thessalonians —
Rom. xiii. 11, 12. " And that knowing the time, that
now it is high time to awake out of sleep; for now is our
salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far
spent ; the day is at hand. Let us therefore cast off the
works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light."
We cannot understand this as though the apostle con
cluded, the day of judgment would come while they lived;
because he had before explained himself otherwise : but
only that the day of Christ's kingdom, which is the day of
the salvation of the church of Christ, was at hand. And
so, Philip, iv. 5. " Let your moderation be known to all
men : the Lord is at hand." And Heb. x. 25. " Exhort
ing one another, and so much the more as ye see the day
approaching." § 9. Christ's coming was indeed at hand in many re
spects ; and in such respects as might well have all that
influence upon those to whom the apostle wrote that he
intended. The coming of Christ at the overthrow of the
heathen empire, might well be said to be at hand ; and
Christ's last coming to judgment, might well, considering
all things, be said to be at hand, as the apostle Peter
observes, though there should be thousands of years
between. The apostle Paul speaks of ages to come, Eph.
ii. 7. That it was not to be till many generations were
past : yet it was at hand, in a sense agreeable to the com
mon language of the Holy Spirit. So, Christ's first coming
was spoken of as very nigh at hand, of old. Hag. ii. 6, 7.
" For thus saith tbe Lord of hosts, Yet once, it is a little
while, and I will shake the heavens, and the earth, and the
sea, and the dry land, and 1 will shake all nations ; and
the desire of all nations shall come ; and I will fill this
house with glory, saith the Lord of hosts." Yet there was
then above 500 years to it. And when it was about 400
years, it is said, Mai. iii. 1. " The Lord whom ye seek,
shall suddenly come to his temple ; even the messenger of
the covenant, whom ye delight in." And when it was
about 700 years to the gospel day, it is said to be but a
very little while. Isa. xxix. 17, i8. " Is it not yet a very
little while, and Lebanon shall become a 'fruitful field, and
the fruitful field shall be esteemed as a forest ? And in
that day shall the deaf hear the words of the book, and the
eyes of the blind shall see out of obscurity, and out of
darkness." So God represents, as though he would very
quickly perform all the things prophesied of by Jeremiah,
. though some of them were not to be fulfilled in many
ages ; Jer. i. 10 — 12. So the time is said to be at hand,
for the accomplishment of all the prophecies of the book
of Revelation, and Christ's last coming at the conclusion
of them, Rev. i. 3. and xxii. 7, 10, 12, 20. though the
book evidently contains a series of events for many ages.
§ 10. Again, when the apostle Peter says, with respect
to Christ's last coming, and its being said to be at hand,
that " a thousand years in God's sight are but as one day,"
it is no new conceit of his own, to save reputation ; but
God's language that he had used of old justifies him in so
saying. And the expression that the apostles used about
the approach of Christ's coming, did not tend to the dis
appointment of God's people. For Christ's coming to
reward them at death was at hand, when they should have
such a comfortable and full prospect of their complete
reward at Christ's last coming ; so that they shall antici
pate, and as it were have a possession of it. Though the
time appears long lo us in our dim-sighted state, yet it
will appear as nothing to them. The second coming of
Christ was so nigh at hand, that the church of God might

468

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

well take all that comfort from what was really to be un
derstood by those expressions. The first coming of Christ
was very often spoken of for the comfort of the saints of
the Old Testament, under great afflictions, though they
were never like to see it in this lifetime. So in the case
of Zerubbabel, and Joshua, and Daniel.
§ 11. As to that text of the apostle in 1 Cor. x. 11.
" And they are written for our admonition, upon whom
the ends ofthe world are come;" the connexion of these
words with the context, and the drift of the apostle, explain
his meaning. For his drift is only this, that what had
happened to the children of Israel in the wilderness, hap
pened to them for ensamples, and were written for our
sakes, though they happened so long ago, or though we
live so long after them, and, with respect to them, in the
ends of the world, or in the latter part of the world's dura
tion, called the latter days.
§ 12. As to 1 Pet. iv. 7. "The end of all things is at
handf" how did this same apostle explain this propin
quity ? 2 Pet. iii. 7, 8. " But the heavens and the earth
which are now, by the same word are kept in store, re
served unto fire, against the day of judgment and perdi
tion of ungodly men. But, beloved, be not ignorant of
this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand
years, and a thousand years as one day." And it is to be
considered, that the apostle Peter was under no tempta
tion to change his voice in this matter, from any expe
rience of the events failing as yet. He had not lived long
enough to prove, but that Christ's words — whence any
may suppose they might expect Christ's second coming
before the generation passed away, and before some that
were then present should taste of death — might be fulfilled
in that sense.
§ 13. That there was no such notion prevailing among
the disciples, that Christ should come while most of them
lived, is manifest from this, that when the disciples mis
took the design of Christ's words, John xxi. 22. " If I
will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ?" and
from thence, for a while, entertained a notion that that dis
ciple was not to die till Christ came ; it seems they, even
while under this mistake, looked upon it as the distin
guishing privilege of that disciple, which none of the rest
were to expect. And it is evident, that John himself con
cluded no such thing, as that Christ should come in his
lifetime, because he speaks of that notion of the other dis
ciples about him as ill-founded.
§ 14. It is a further argument, that, when the apostles
used such kind of language as that, " the Lord is at
hand," &c. they did not use it in any such sense, as that
it should be in that age or the next ; that the apostle
John, who was accustomed to their language, uses it still,
even after he had prophesied of many great events, which
plainly were to have their accomplishment in many suc
cessive ages. As Rev. iii. 11. " Behold, I come quickly."
And he uses it repeatedly at the end of the book, after he
had given an account of those future events, in the last
chapter, ver. 7. " Behold, I come quickly;'' ver. 12. "Be
hold, I come quickly ;" and ver. 20. " He that testifieth
these things, saith, Surely I come quickly." The 17th chap
ter of this book alone is sufficient to convince any one, that
John could not suppose that his prophecies could be ful
filled, but in several successive ages.
§ 15. It is an argument, that such a nearness of Christ's
last coming as the objection supposes, was not the doctrine
that the apostles so much insisted upon ; that the church
prevailed still, when they saw that Christ did not come.
Such a disappointment would have been a dreadful blow
to Christianity, if this had been the universal expectation
of Christians, and it had been raised by the abundant pro
mises of Christ and his apostles. They probably, upon it,
would have exceedingly lost ground, and shrunk away.
But the fact was very much the contrary.
§ 16. Christ often speaks of his last coming, as that
which would be long delayed ; Matt. xxv. 5. " While the
bridegroom tamed, they all slumbered and slept." Luke
xx. 9. "A certain man planted a vineyard;" ver. 19.
" After a long time, the Lord of those servants cometh and
reckoneth with them." Matt. xxiv. 48. " My Lord de-
layeth his coming." So Luke xvii. 22.
§ 17. It is evident, that when Christ speaks of his

coming ; of his being revealed ; of his coming in his
kingdom, or his kingdom coming; he has respect to
his appearing in those great works of his power, justice,
and grace, which should be in the destruction of Jerusa
lem, and other extraordinary providences which should
attend it. So, in Luke xvii. 22, to the end, with chap.
xviii. 1 — 8. Christ speaks of the kingdom qf God coming;
qf the coming ofthe days ofthe Son qf man being reveal
ed; and of the Son qfman coming. But yet, it is evident
he has respect to the destruction of Jerusalem, by chap.
xvii. 37. "And they answered and said unto him, Where,
Lord ? and he said unto them, Wheresoever the body is,
thither will the eagles be gathered together." See also
chap. xix. 13 — 15. So, when the disciples had been ob
serving the magnificence of the temple, and Christ had
said to them, "Verily I say unto you, There shall not be
left one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown
down," — having respect to the destruction of Jerusalem —
the disciples asked him, when these things should be ? and
what should be the signs of his coming, and of the end of
the world ? By Christ's coming, they have plainly a re
spect to that time of the destruction of the temple, which
Christ had spoken of; and therefore, their question is thus
expressed by St. Mark, chap. xiii. 4. "Tell us, when
shall these things be, and what shall be the sign when all
these things shall be fulfilled ?" And in like manner by
St. Luke, chap. xxi. 7. ; and Christ has many things in
his answer agreeable to this sense of this question. He
warns them to beware of others that should come in his
stead, Matt. xxiv. 4, 5. Then he proceeds to tell them
what will precede the end, i. e. the end of the world,
which the disciples inquired after, and tells them what
shall be signs of its approach ; Matt. xxiv. 6 — 16. And
then speaks of the desolation of Jerusalem, and of the
land, as that end and that coming of his which tliey in
quired after ; Matt. xxiv. 15—21, 28.; and more plainly,
Luke xxi. 20 — 24.
From these things, it follows,
§ 18. That when Christ speaks of his coming, his
coming in his kingdom, &c. as being in that generation,
and before some who \vere then alive should taste of
death, there is no need of understanding him of his com
ing to the last judgment ; but it may well be understood
of his coming at the destruction qf Jerusalem, which, as
has been shown, he calls by these names, and which he
also distinguishes from his coming to the last judgment,
and consummation of all things. Yea,
§ 19. It is evident, that he did not suppose his coming
to the last judgment, and the consummation of all things,
would be till a long time after the destruction of Jerusa
lem. The calling of the Gentiles, instead of the Jews, is
spoken of as what should be principally after the destruc
tion of Jerusalem; Matt. xxi. 41, 43. Luke xx. 15, 16.
Matt. xxii. 7—10. But this Christ himself speaks of as
a gradual work, in the parables of the grain of mustard
seed, and of the leaven hid in three measures of meal ;
Matt, xiii- 31—33. Luke xiii. 19—21. Mark iv. 26—32.
And it is very manifest, that Christ did not suppose the
consummation of all things to take place, till long after
the destruction of Jerusalem, Luke xxi. 24. where it is
said of the Jews, that they should be led away captive
into all nations, and Jerusalem should be trodden down
of the Gentiles, till the times of the Gentiles should be
fulfilled.

CHAP. III.
Jesus' s prophecies a proof that he was the Christ, and a
divine person.
§ 1. As Christ wrought miracles in a very different
manner from the prophets, acting therein in his own name,
and as doing what he did of his own power and will ; so,
also, he uttered prophecies in a way very diverse from
that of the ancient prophets. The ancient prophets, when
they uttered their predictions, were wont to introduce
them after this manner, Hear ye the word of the Lord;
or, Thus saith the Lord ; showing, that they did not speak
of their own knowledge, but by special revelation and di-

Chap. III.

JESUS'S PROPHECIES, A PROOF, &c.

469

rection from God. Christ foretold things to come in a
remarkably different manner and style, introducing his
predictions, not with _ Thus saith the Lord, but, Verily,
verily, I say unto you; as, Matt, xxiii. 36. xxiv. 34, 35.
xxvi. 13, and 21. Mark xiv. 30. Luke xxi. 31, 32.;
John xiii. 38. xiv. 12. xvi. 20, 21, 22. The following
place is very remarkable, showing what great authority
Christ attributed to his own word in his predictions, Matt.
xxiv. 34, 35. " Verily I say unto you, this generation
shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled. Heaven
and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass
away." These words are annexed to the chief prophecies
that Christ ever uttered, which are contained in the 24th
chapter of Matthew. See the same, Luke xxi. 31, 32.
§ 2. Christ foretold future events, and those to be ac
complished after his death, not only as what he knew by
his own knowledge, but what he himself would bring to
pass ; both future blessings to his church and people, and
future calamity and destruction to those persons and peo
ple that were his enemies. —
§ 3. First, He foretold great events for the benefit of his
church that he would bring to pass; John xiv. 12 — 14.
" Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me,
the works that I do, he shall do also ; and greater works
than these shall he do, because I go to my Father. And
whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that I will do, that
the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask
any thing in my name, I will do it." John xvi. 7 — 1 1 .
" Nevertheless I tell you the truth ; It is expedient for you
that I go away ; for if I go not away, the Comforter will
not come unto you ; but if I depart, I will send him un
to you. And when he is come, he will reprove the world
of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment : of sin, be
cause they believe not on me ; of righteousness, because
I go to my Father, and ye see me no more ; of judgment,
because the prince of this world is judged." And ver.
20 — 22. " Verily, verily, I say unto you, That ye shall
weep and lament, but the world shall rejoice : and ye
shall be sorrowful. But your sorrow shall be turned into
joy.— And ye now therefore have sorrow : but I will see
you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no
man taketh from you." See the whole xiii. xiv. xv. and
xvi. chapters of John: and Luke xxi. 15 — 18. " For I
will give you a mouth and wisdom which all your adver
saries shall not be able to gainsay or resist. And ye shall
be betrayed both by parents and brethren, and kinsfolks
and friends ; and some of you shall they cause to be put
to death : and ye shall be hated of all men for my name's
sake. But there shall not an hair of your head perish."
Luke xxiv. 49. " And behold, I send the promise of my
Father upon you. But tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem,
until ye be endued with power from on high." So he
foretold his own resurrection from the dead, as what he
himself would bring to pass by his own power ; John ii.
19. " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it
up." John x. 17, 18. " I lay down my life, that I may
take it again. No man taketh it from me. I have power
to lay it down, and I have power to take it again." Mark
xvi. 17, 18." And these signs shall follow them that be
lieve : in my name shall they cast out devils ; they shall
speak with new tongues ; they shall take up serpents ;
and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt
them ; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall re
cover." § 4. Secondly, He foretold many great events implying
awful calamity and destruction to his enemies, as what he
himself would bring to pass. Thus he speaks of that
mighty destruction of the Jewish nation by the Romans,
as that from which he would have protected them if they
had believed on him, Matt, xxiii. 36 — 38. " Verily, I say
unto you, all these things shall come on this generation.
0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets,
and stonest them that are sent unto thee ; how often would
I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen
gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would
not ! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate." This
destruction is spoken of as what he would bring upon
them, as a punishment for their rejection and contempt of
him. Luke xix. 12 — 14. " He said therefore, A certain
nobleman went into a far countrv to receive for himself a

kingdom, and to return. And he called his ten servants
and delivered them ten pounds, and said unto them, Oc
cupy till I come. But his citizens hated him, and sent _ a
message after him, saying, We will not have this man to
reign over us." With verse 27. " But those mine enemies
which would not that I should reign over them, bring
hither, and slay before me."
§ 5. Christ not only foretold things future, as having
ability in himself to accomplish them, but he promised to
five others ability to foretell future events by his Spirit, and
ereby should honour him, as having, in his foreknowledge
of future things, the same honour with the Father. John
xvi. 7. " If I go not away, the Comforter will not come ;
but if 1 depart, I will send him unto you." Verse 13 —
15. " When the Spirit of truth is come, he will guide you
into all truth. For he shall not speak of himself, but
whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak ; and he will
show you things to come. He shall glorify me, for he
shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you. All
things that the Father hath are mine. Therefore said I,
that he shall take of mine and shall show it unto you."
§ 6. It is observable, that never any prophet gave such
great and manifold opportunity for proof and trial, whether
he was a true prophet or not, in the multitude of predic
tions of events to be fulfilled in his lifetime, and during
that generation after his death : and also in the plainness
of his predictions ; most of them being delivered not in
visionary mystical representations, but in a manner intel
ligible to all.
§ 7. Therefore the supposition that, if Christ were an
impostor, God would, so order it, that all these predictions
— many of them so strange and wonderful, and in themselves
so exceedingly unlikely — should exactly come to pass ;
and that God's providence should so wonderfully confirm
his words, beyond those of any other prophet that ever had
been in the world, is extremely unreasonable ; especially
considering the following things :
§ 8. Is/, That God had of old given this as a sign, by
which his people might know a true prophet ; viz. the
coming to pass of the things foretold by him. And this rule
is annexed by Moses to that great promise which God gave
of the Messiah, Deut. xviii. 15, &c. "The Lord thy God
will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee
of thy brethren, like unto me ; unto him ye shall hearken ;
according to ail that thou desiredst of the Lord thy God
in Horeb in the day of the assembly, saying, Let me not
hear again the voice of the Lord my God, neither let me
see this great fire any more, that I die not. And the Lord
said unto me, They have well spoken that which they have
spoken. I will raise them up a Prophet from among their
brethren, like unto thee, and will put my words in his
mouth, and he shall speak unto them all that I shall com
mand him. And it shall come to pass, that whosoever
will not hearken unto my words which he shall speak in
my name, I will require it of him. But the prophet
which shall presume to speak a word in my name, which
I have not commanded him to speak, or that shall speak
in the name of other gods, even that prophet shall die.
And if thou say in thine heart, How shall we know the
word which the Lord hath not spoken ? When a prophet
speaketh in the name of the Lord, if the thing follow not,
nor come to pass that is the thing which the Lord hath
not spoken but the prophet hath spoken it presumptu
ously : thou shalt not be afraid of him." — Now, there
fore, since Jesus professed to be the Messiah, and the
great Prophet foretold and promised by God in this place,
and uttered so many great and wonderful prophecies ; it
might be expected, if he was a mere pretender, and spake
presumptuously, and uttered what the Lord had not
spoken, that God should not have confirmed his prophe
cies in his providence ; but in that case, would have
given his people opportunity to refute by this rule his
pretences. § 9. 2nd, That foretelling future events is spoken of by
God, as one great thing wherein the Messiah should differ
from the false gods and false prophets, and vain pretenders
of the heathens. In that great prophecy of the kingdom
of the Messiah, beginning with the fortieth chapter of
Isaiah to the end of the book, the foretelling of future
events, ih such a manner as to show that the person who

470

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

foretells, does foresee, and has a view of futurity, is often
mentioned as a divine prerogative, and therefore as a good
evidence, that he that does so is a divine person, or speaks
by divine authority. Therefore the prophets and gods of
the heathens are often challenged on this head, and the
proof of their authority often put upon this issue : Isaiah
xii. 21—28. xiii. 8, 9. xliii. 9—12. xliv. 6—8. xiv. 3,
and 21. xlvi. 10. xlviii. 14. — In this prophecy it is de
clared, that herein the Messiah should differ from all vain
pretenders ; (see chap. xii. 27. and xiii. at the beginning ;
compared with chap. xii. 21 — 29.) ¦ Now therefore, is it
credible, that God would so order it, that one who falsely
Ere'ended to be the Messiah, should, in so high a degree,
ave this honour, which God had mentioned as the great
and distinguishing honour which he would put on the true
Messiah, as his elect, in whom his soul delighted ?
§ 10. 3d, That the foretelling of future events, as by his
own knowledge, and as events that are to be accomplished
by his own power, is spoken of by God as his great pre
rogative, and as a good and sure evidence of the divinity
of the person who can do thus ; and God speaks thus, in
those very places in which he is foretelling the coming of
the Messiah. Isa. xii. 21—23. " Produce your cause,
saith the Lord ; bring forth your strong reasons, saith the
King of Jacob. Let them bring forth, and show us what
shall happen. — Show the things that are to come hereafter,
that we may know that ye are gods." Ver. 26. " Who
hath declared from the beginning, that we may know? and
before-time, that we may say, He is righteous ? Yea, there
is none that showeth ; yea, there is none that declareth ;
yea, there is none that heareth your words." Then, in the
next words, God promises the Messiah, ver. 27. " The
first shall say to Zion, Behold, behold them : and I will
give to Jerusalem one that bringeth good tidings ;" i. e.
that foreshows glorious future things which God is about
to do for his people.
§11. Therefore, since God mentions the foretelling of
future events in this manner, as a certain note of divinity,
and a distinguishing honour that he would put on the
Messiah, his elect in whom his soul delignteth, is it
credible, that God would put this honour, in so great a
degree, on one who falsely pretended to be the Messiah,
and the beloved of God ? And especially, when he pre
tended, in this respect, to have the same honour which be
longs to God; as John xvi. 13 — 15. " He will show you
things to come. He shall glorify me ; for he shall receive
of mine, and shall show it unto you. All things that the
Father hath are mine : therefore said I, that he shall take
of mine, and shall show it unto you." He also speaks of
his knowledge of divine secrets, and future events, as the
effect of the peculiar love that God had to him ; John v.
20. " The Father loveth the Son, and showeth him all
things that himself doth.''
§ 12. Great changes in kingdoms and nations, coming
to pass according to God's predictions, is often spoken of
by God himself as a great evidence of his being the only
true God. The foretelling of the destruction of Babylon
by Cyrus, is greatly insisted on by God, as a great evi
dence of his being the true God, and as most clearly and
§ reatly distinguishing him from all pretenders to divinity.
ee chap. xii. 21 — 27. see also chap. xliv. 25, to the end,
and xlvi. 10. But Jesus was one that professed divinity,
and foretold revolutions of nations as great and strange as
this, yea, far more wonderful. He foretold the destruction
of Jerusalem, which had been the holy city, and of the
nation of Jews, who had been God's own people, and
whose protector he had in a special manner been, and
towards whom he exercised a most peculiar providence.
He also foretold the deliverance of the Christians who
were in Jerusalem. It was a greater thing, and less to be
expected, that such a city and such a nation should be
destroyed, than that destruction should befall a nation of
aliens. Therefore, to foretell this destruction, with the
various circumstances of it, as they actually took place, is
a greater evidence of divine foreknowledge, than to foretell
the destruction of a nation of aliens.
§ 13. The turning of the wilderness into a fruitful field,
is spoken of by God as a peculiar work of God, and a
certain sign of a divine hand ; Isa. xii. 18, 19, 20. " I wili
open rivers in high places, and fountains in the midst ofthe

valleys. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and
the dry land springs of water. I will plant in the wilder
ness the cedar, the shittah-tree, and the myrtle, and the
oil-tree. I will set in the desert, the fir-tree, and the pine,
and the box-tree together, that they may see and know,
and consider and understand together, that the hand ofthe
Lord hath done this." It is evident this is not intended
in a literal sense, but signifies the happy change in the
state of mankind, from a state wherein men are repre
sented as barren, as briers and thorns, and as wild beasts,
to a morally excellent and happy state. This might be
proved by the frequent use of such figures in the prophe
cies of Scripture. But it is manifest, that this, according
to Christ's prediction, was effected, in a remarkable man
ner, by Christ himself, and his apostles and followers, in
the turning of the world from heathenism, to the knowledge
and worship of the true God, to just apprehensions of his
moral government, and from all manner of vice, to virtue.
§ 14. It is remarkable that it is foretold, Isa. xiii. that
the Messiah should set judgment in the earth, and his law
or religion among the nations, particularly the isles, or
Europe, against strong opposition, and through great suf
ferings, under which his church should seem ready to be
extinguished or crushed, like smoking flax, or a bruised
reed : but that, finally, judgment should be brought forth
to victory.

CHAP. IV.
The propriety qf a general judgment, and a future state.
§ 1. The doctrine taught in the Scriptures, that at the
end of the world all mankind shall stand together before
the judgment-seat of the supreme Lawgiver and Judge, to
have ail things visibly set to rights — and justice made
visibly to take place with respect to all the persons,
actions, and affairs of the moral world, by the infinitely
wise, holy, and just Head of it — is a most reasonable doc
trine, and much commends itself to our belief, from the
reason of the thing, on the supposition of a moral govern
ment maintained over the world by him who created it.
For this implies, that he governs the world as its lawgiver
and judge, and will treat men as accountable creatures.
God s moral government not only requires, that there
should be divine laws, and an execution of them in re
wards and punishments; but also that both should be
made visible. It is requisite that the subject should have
proper means of knowing what the laws are, by which he
is obligated, and tlie grounds of the obligation ; and that
others who are his fellow-subjects should also know his
obligations. For, as men are made to dwell in society,
this cannot well be, without knowing each other's obliga
tions, and being able to judge of the good or evil of each
other's actions. It is likewise requisite that the subject of
the laws should have proper means of knowing the grounds
of the rewards or punishments of which he is the subject,
in the execution of the laws ; and that it should be made
manifest, to the conscience of him who is rewarded or
punished, what he is rewarded or punished for, and the
ground on which the Judge assigns such a retribution ; and,
if he see others punished or acquitted, that the ground of it
should be manifested to him, that he may see the justice of
it. That there should be some judicial proceeding in which
that should take place, seems absolutely necessary, in order
to a proper manifestation of the grounds of the subject's
reward or punishment, and a display of the justice of his
judge to his own conscience ; which must be if the sub
ject be dealt with as a rational moral agent.
§ 2. Hence it is of necessity, that every one of mankind
must be the subject of such a dispensation of God towards
him, which may fitly be called an appearing before the
judgment-seat of God. And it is most reasonable to sup
pose, that this judicial proceeding will not be secret ; that
each individual will not be judged so, that the transaction
with respect to him will be out of the sight and knowledge
of all others; but that truth and righteousness will be
made visibly to take place, after a prevalence of wrong,
wickedness, and confusion, in the violations of a divine
law, which was public, and the law of their union and

Chap. IV.

OF A GENERAL JUDGMENT, &c.

471

regulation in society; many of those violations are of
course visible to others, and others are concerned in them,
either in being united in the wickedness, and accessary to
it, or a party concerned in suffering the injury done by
that wickedness.
§ 3. Reasonable creatures are the eye of the world;
they are capable of beholding the beauty and excellency of
the Creator's workmanship, and those displays of himself,
which he has made in his works : and therefore it is
requisite, that the beauty and excellency of the world, as
God hath constituted it, should not be hid or kept secret.
But the beauty of God's constitution of the world, consists
mainly, without doubt, in the intelligent part of the world,
which is the head and end of all the rest, et instar omnium.
But the beauty and order of God's constitution of this,
consists chiefly in his moral regulation of it. Now, there
fore, since God has made the beauty and regularity of the
natural world so publicly visible to all ; it is much more
requisite, that the moral beauty and regularity of his dis
posals in the intelligent world, should be publicly visible.
For the beauty of God's works consists a thousand times
more in this, than in the other. It is reasonable to sup
pose, that these will be as publicly visible as the bright
ness and beautiful order and motions of the heavenly
bodies, and the regular successions of the various seasons
of the year, and the beauties of nature in the air and on
the face of the earth. The moral deformity and confusion
of the world, is most public ; it stands forth continually
in view through all ages. It is therefore fit, that the recti
fying of this deformity and disorder, and the bringing of
light out of darkness, should also be made publicly visible
to those creatures, that are made to be the eye of the
creation, to behold its beauty, and the glory of the Creator
in it. God has given man a nature, which, if it be under
the influence of true virtue, desires above all things to
behold this kind of order and beauty. When man sees a
great and horrid crime committed, as some nefarious act
of injustice, cruelty, &c. the nature of the reasonable
creature has something in it, which desires and makes it
requisite, that he should see justice done, and right take
place, with respect to such an act. The mind or heart, as
it were, fails in such a case, if it neither sees this, nor hopes
to see it.
§ 4. If it be requisite that judgment should be public,
and that many should stand together before the judgment-
seat ; on the same account, it will appear most reasonable
to suppose, that the whole world should appear together
in one great assembly, before the judgment-seat. The
whole world is one commonwealth and kingdom, all made
of one blood, all under one moral head, one law, and one
government ; and all parts of it are joined in communica
tion one with another. All are sinners, and yet God
appears placable to all, &c. All dwell in one habitation,
viz. this earth, under the same roof of the visible heavens,
having the same sun to enlighten them, &c. Besides, many
of the causes and controversies to be decided by the Su
preme Judge of the world, are of the most public nature ;
as causes between princes and heads of great kingdoms
and monarchies, and their people ; and causes between
one nation and another. Yea, there are many causes which
the Supreme Judge must bring to an issue, wherein the
greater part of the world is concerned. And when the
cause and controversy between these two is judged, it is
requisite that both parties should appear together before
the judgment-seat. The Roman emperors had to do with
other nations that were without the limits of the empire,
to the utmost ends of the earth ; as with the Scythians, the
Persians, the Arabians, the Indians, the Chinese, the
Germans, Cimbrians, and Africans. So that it is requisite,
when they appear to be judged, that not only the people
of the Roman empire should appear with them, but also
those other nations. Thus, all the nations of Europe have
dealings one with another continually ; and these European
nations have some dealings with almost all other nations
upon earth, in Asia, Africa, and America.
§ 5. It is therefore necessary, that all nations should be
gathered together before the judgment-seat of the Supreme
Lawgiver and Judge, that he may determine between them,
and settle all things by his wise, righteous, and infallible
decision. And many of the good and evil acts that are

done, though the world is not properly concerned in them
as a party interested, yet are public through the world.
They are done in the sight of the world, and greatly draw
the attention of mankind. It is fit, therefore, that they
should be as publicly judged. And, it is to be observed,
that the longer the world stands, the more and more com
munication have the different parts of it together. So
that, at the end of the world, there probably will be the
highest reason, in this respect, that all nations that shall
then be found upon the earth, should be called together
before the judgment-seat of God.
§ 6. As it is requisite, that all who dwell on the face of
the earth at the same time, should appear together before
the judgment-seat ; so it is also requisite, that all genera
tions that have succeeded one another, appear together.
Many of the moral acts, both good and bad, not only are
public in this respect, that they are known over great part
of the face of the earth, in or near the time of them ; but
also they are made public to all following generations, by
tradition and history. And if the actions of one generation
be not visible to all, yet the actions of one generation are
very visible to the generation immediately following, and
theirs to the next ; and so, all, in this sense, are very
visible one to another. And as all nations of the world
are morally concerned one with another, though not so as
each one immediately concerned with every other nation ;
yet all are mutually concerned by concatenation.- — One
nation is concerned with the next, and that with the next,
and so on : so that there is need that all should appear
together to be judged.
§ 7. All generations of men, from the beginning to the
end of the world, are morally concerned one with another.
— The first generation is concerned with the next, and that
with the next, and so on to the end of the world. There
fore it is requisite that all should appear together to be
judged. Parents may injure their children, and children
may injure their parents ; and so they are two parties in
one cause which must be decided by the Supreme Judge.
Therefore it is needful, that they, as parties, should appear
together, when their cause is judged. Parents and chil
dren, or a younger generation and an older, may be acces
sary to each other s crimes, or united in each other's
virtuous deeds ; and therefore it is requisite that they
should be judged together. Yea, the present generation
may become accessary to an injury committed by then-
ancestors ages ago. For, in many things, they stand in the
stead of those ancestors, and act for them, and have power
to continue the injury, or to remove it.
§ 8. Posterity is concerned in the actions of their
ancestors or predecessors, in families, nations, and most
communities of men, as standing in some respect in their
stead. And some particular persons may injure, not only
a great part of the world contemporary with them, but
may injure and undo all future generations of many in
dividuals, families, or larger communities. So that men
who live now, may have an action against those who lived
a thousand years ago ; or there may be a cause which
needs to be decided by the Judge of the world, between
some of the present generation, and some who lived a
thousand years ago. Princes who, by rapine and cruelty,
ruin nations, are answerable for the poverty, slavery, and
misery of the posterity of those nations. So, as to those
who broach and establish opinions and principles, which
tend to the overthrow of virtue, and propagation of vice,
and are contrary to the common rights and privileges of
mankind. — Thus, Mahomet has injured all succeeding
posterity, and is answerable, at least in a degree, for the
ruin of the virtue of his followers in many respects, and
for the rapine, violence, and terrible devastations which
his followers have been guilty of toward the nations of
- the world, and to which they have been instigated by the
principles which he taught them. And, whoever they
were, who first drew away men from the true religion, and
introduced and established idolatry, they have injured all
nations that have to this day partaken of the infection.
§ 9. In like manner, persons, by their virtue, may be
great benefactors to mankind, through all succeeding
generations. Without doubt, the apostle Paul, and others
who assisted him, and following generations, may properly
become the subjects of a judicial proceeding, with respect

472

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

to that great religious change and revolution in the nations
subject to the Roman empire, in abolishing heathenish
idolatry, and setting up Christianity in the room of it.
§ 10. The end of the divine judgment is the manifesta
tion of the divine justice : and how fit is it, that the
justice of the universal and supreme Head and Judge of
all mankind, in governing his kingdom, should be most
publicly manifested, and exhibited to his whole kingdom !
This doctrine of the day of judgment, exceedingly be
comes the universal moral Head of the world, who rules
through all generations.
§ 11. If there shall ever come a time, wherein the
Lawgiver and Judge of the world will publicly regulate the
moral state of all generations, the end of the world, when
there shall be a final period to all farther probation, seems
to be a proper time for it. If ever, by divine wisdom and
righteousness, there be brought about a righteous, holy,
and glorious issue of the confused state of the world, it
will be, when this world shall have come to an end. As
the proper time for judging a particular person, is, when
the probationary state of that person is at an end ; so the
proper time for the public judgment of the world, is, when
the probationary world comes to an end.
§ 12. There is all reason to think, that the wicked will
hereafter be punished together, having a place of punish
ment assigned for them, where they shall suffer divine ven
geance in sight of one another; and that the righteous
will also be rewarded together. If so, it is most requisite
that their judgment should be together ; that they might
understand the ground and reason of the punishment, and
of that reward, which they shall see in each other.
§ 13. It is most agreeable to reason, that there is a
future state of rewards and punishments, wherein God will
reward and make happy good men, and make wicked men
miserable. And if there be a future state of happiness to
God's favourites, it is rational to suppose, that this should
be eternal : because, otherwise, God's greatest favourites,
to whom he gives the greatest rewards in another world,
would, in one respect, have most to torment them ; to wit,
the dreadful and eternal end of that sweet happiness. The
sweeter and more happy life is, the more terrible are death
and the thoughts and expectations of it. It is not likely
that God would add such a sting to the sweetest enjoy
ments and rewards of his greatest favourites. It is rational,
therefore, to suppose, that the life he gives them after death,
is life eternal ; life that is not to come to an end by
another worse death, consisting not only in the destruction
of the body, but the abolition of the soul. God has not
made them like the brutes, who cannot contemplate futu
rity, and therefore have no allay to present enjoyment by
the prospect of an end by death. And if it be so, that
there be an eternal state of happiness in another world, set
before us to be sought after ; then, how rational are the
Christian doctrines and precepts, of placing our affections
on heavenly objects ; of weanedness from the world ; of
behaving as pilgrims and strangers on the earth ; of not
laying up treasure on the earth, but in heaven ; of selling
all for the kingdom of heaven ; of not looking at the
things which are seen, which are temporal, but at the
things which are not seen, which are eternal ! Hence,
also, the reasonableness ofthe Christian precepts of patience
under sufferings, seeing these afflictions are but for a
moment, in comparison with the duration of the future
weight of glory.
§ 14. The doctrine ofthe gospel concerning an invisi
ble world, to which good men are to be transferred, and
where they are to have their inheritance and fixed abode,
is most rational on this account, that this visible world is
corruptible in its own nature. Such is the nature and con
stitution of it, that it must come to an end. And it is un
reasonable to suppose, that the Creator would leave it
gradually to perish, languishing in a decayed, broken,'
miserable state, through thousands of ages, gradually
growing more and more wretched, before it is quite de
stroyed. Therefore, it is reasonable to suppose, that there
will be a time wherein its Creator will immediately inter
pose, to put the world to an end, and destroy it suddenly.
And at that time, all the living inhabitants of the world,
* Winder's History of Knowledge, p. 59, 60.

that are not taken from it and translated to some other
abode, must perish, and be destroyed in a very awful
manner, by the immediate hand of God, with most inex
pressible manifestations of his mighty power and great
majesty. And who can believe, that at that time, when
God in this manner immediately interposes, he will make
no distinction between the virtuous and his enemies ?
that this awful destruction and wrath shall come upon all
alike ? There will be no necessity of it from the course of
nature. For at that time, by the supposition God will
put an end to the course of nature. God will immediately
and miraculously interpose. The whole affair shall be
miraculous, and by God's immediate hand ; and therefore,
a miraculous deliverance of the good wili not be at all
beside God's manner of operation at this time. He can as
easily, and, without departing any more from the stated
course of things, miraculously deliver the virtuous, as he
can miraculously destroy the wicked.
§ 15. Therefore we may well suppose, that at that time,
when God is about to put an end to the frame of this visi
ble universe, the virtuous will be translated into some
other world, beyond the limits of the visible one. And if
God designs thus to deal with all the good that shall be
found alive on the earth at that time, how rational is it to
suppose, that he deals in like manner with the good in all
generations ? That they are all translated into that distant
invisible world ? Without doubt, the world into which
God will receive his favourites, when this corruptible
world shall perish, shall be incorruptible. He will not
translate them from one corruptible world to another. He
will not save them from one world that is to perish, to
carry them to another world that is to perish. Therefore,
they shall be immortal, and have eternal life ; and, doubt
less, that world will be unspeakably better than this, and
free from all that destruction, that fleeting, fading, perish
ing, empty nature, that attends all the things of this
world ; and their bodies shall be immortal, and as secure from
perishing as the world is to which they are translated.
§ 16. This makes it most reasonable to suppose, that
good men, in all ages, are translated to that world. For
why should so vast a difference be made, between the
virtuous that shall be of the last generation, and the virtu
ous of all preceding generations ? Seeing there is a far
distant and invisible world provided for some of the
virtuous inhabitants of this world, it is reasonable to
suppose, that all the good shall have their habitation and
inheritance together there, as one society, partaking of the
same reward : as they were of the same race of mankind,
and loved and served God, and followed him in the same
state here below, in the performance of the same duties,
the same work, and under like trials and difficulties.
§ 17. It is also, hence, rational to suppose, that there
should be a resurrection of the bodies of the saints of
all past generations. For, from what has been observed
before, the bodies of the saints of the last generation will
be preserved from perishing with the world, and will be '
translated. And, doubtless, if all the good of all genera
tions are to have a like reward, and are to dwell together
in the same world in one society, they shall be in a like
state, partaking of a like reward.
§ 18. The reasonableness of the doctrine of the resurrec
tion will appear, if we suppose, that union with a body is
the most rational state of perfection of the human soul :
which may be argued from the consideration, that this was
the condition in which the human soul was created at
first ; and that its separation from the body is no improve
ment of its condition, being an alteration brought on by
sin, and was inflicted under the notion of evil, and ex
pressly as punishment, upon the forfeiture of a privilege.
From whence we must conclude, that the former state of
union to the body, was a better state than the disunion
which was threatened. Sin introduced that death that
consists in the separation of body and soul. The state
of innocency was embodied : the state of guilt was dis
embodied* Therefore, as Christ came to restore from all
the calamities which came from sin, it is most reasonable
to suppose, that he will restore the union of soul and
body.

Chap. V.

THE MIRACLES OF JESUS, &c.

473

CHAP. V.

Tlie miracles of Jesus not counterfeited by his enemies, and
superior to those under tlie Old 1 estament.
§ 1. It adds to the evidence which is given to the truth
of Christianity by ihe multitude of miracles wrought by
Christ, his apostles and followers in the first century,
that there were no pretences of inspiration, or miracles,
among the Jews (at least none worth notice) in Judea, or
any other part of the world. If all that multitude, and that
long-continued series of miracles, recorded to be wrought
in confirmation of Christianity, were fictions, vain pre
tences, or enthusiastic imaginations ; why were there no
pretences or imaginations of the same sort, on the other
side, among the Jews, in opposition to these ? Those of
the Jews that were opposed to Christianity, were vastly the
greater part of the nation. — And they had as high an
opinion of the honourableness of those gifts of prophecy
and miracles, as Christians. They had as much in their
notions and tempers, to lead them to a fondness for the
claim of such an honour to their party. They were ex
ceedingly proud of their special relation to God, and of
their high privilege as the peculiar favourites of heaven ;
and, in this respect, were exalted far above all the world :
which is a temper of mind, (as we see abundantly,) above
all others, leading men to pretences of this nature.
§ 2. There could be nothing peculiar in the constitu
tion of the first Christians, tending to enthusiasm, beyond
the rest of the Jews : for they were of the same blood, the
same race and nation. Nor could it be because they
wanted zeal against Christianity, and a desire to oppose
and destroy it ; or wanted envy and virulent opposition of
mind to any pretences in the Christians to excel them in
the favour of God, or excellency of any gifts or privileges
whatsoever. They had such zeal and such envy, even to
madness and fury.
§ 3. The true reason, therefore, why so vast a multitude
of miracles were said, and believed, to be openly wrought
among Christians for so long a time, even for a whole age,
and none among the Jews, must be, that such was the
state of things in that age, that it was not possible to palm
false pretences of such a kind upon the world ; and that
those who were most elated with pride, and most ambitious
of such an honour, could see no hope of succeeding in any
such pretences ; and because the Christians indeed were
inspired, and were enabled to work miracles, and did work
them, as was pretended and believed, in great multitudes,
and this continually for so long a time. But God never
favoured their adversaries with such a privilege.
§ 4. When Moses objected (Exod. iv.) that perhaps the
people would not believe his mission, God directed him to
work two miracles to convince them : first, the transmuta
tion of his rod to and from a serpent ; and, secondly, the
making his hand leprous, and healing the leprosy. And
it is to be noted, that the preference is given to the last
miracle, as being especially what might well be regarded
as a good evidence of Moses's divine mission ; ver. 8.
" And it shall come to pass, if they will not believe thee,
neither hearken to the voice of the first sign, that they will
believe the voice of the latter sign." By which it is mani
fest, that such a sort of miracles as Christ wrought, and
which he most abounded in, viz. his healing the bodies of
men when diseased, were a proper and good evidence of a
divine mission.*
§ 5. Moses tells Pharaoh, Exodus viii. 10. " The frogs
shall be removed, that thou mayest know that there is
none like the Lord our God." The magicians could bring
up frogs, but not remove them. They brought plagues,
but took away none. But if the driving out the frogs was
such an evidence of the distinguishing power of the Al
mighty ; how much more the driving out devils from the
bodies and souls of men, silencing their oracles, turning
them out of their temples, and out of those who used
curious arts, as at Ephesus, and afterwards abolishing
their worship through the Roman empire ! For the gods
that were worshipped in the heathen world, were devils,
* See Kidder's Demonstration, part ii. p. 5.

Psal. cvi. 37. Deut. xxxii. 17. Lev. xvii. 7. Christ, by
the prevailing of the christian religion, cast out those
devils out of the very land of Egypt. And which was the
greatest work, to drive the frogs out of Egypt, or to drive
out the impure spirits that were the gods of Egvpt ? It is
spoken of, Isa. xix. 1. as a. glorious manifestation of the
majesty of God, that he should ride on a swift, cloud, and
should come into Egypt, and the idols of Egypt should be
moved at his presence. See also Jeremiah xliii. 12. But
when Christ came into Egypt, in the preaching of his gos
pel, he moved, dispossessed, and banished the idols of
Egypt, and abolished them out of the world. And not
only did Christ thus drive away the devils, the false gods,
out of Egypt, but out of all the nations round about Ca
naan, that were known by the Israelites, even to the ut
most extent of the then known heathen world. These gods
were by -Christ dispossessed of their ancient tenements,
which they had holden age after age, time out of mind.
They were utterly abolished; so that they have had no
worshippers now for a great many ages, no temples, no sa
crifices, no honours done them. They are oid, obsolete
things now, utterly disregarded in the world. It is abun
dantly spoken of in the Old Testament as a future glorious
work of God, greatly manifesting his power and majesty,
and that he should prevail against and destroy the gods of
the heathens, and abolish their worship. But our Jesus
has the honour of this glorious work.
§ 6. Again, when Korah and his company charged
Moses and Aaron with taking too much upon them, Moses
says, Numbers xvi. 5. " To-morrow, the Lord will show
who are his, and who is holy, and will cause him to come
near unto him ; even him whom he hath chosen, will he
cause to come near unto him." And again, ver. 28, 29,
30. " Hereby ye shall know that the Lord hath sent me to
do all these works; for I have not done them of my own
mind : if these men die the common death of all men,"
&c. If the miraculous taking away of men's lives be so
great an evidence of Moses and Aaron's divine mission, and
of their being holy, and chosen and appointed of God, how
much more is raising men from the dead an evidence of
the same work ! Which is the greatest work, to take
away men's lives, or to restore them to life after they are
dead ; or, indeed, miraculously to save them from death,
when they are sick with mortal diseases ?- Again ; God's
causing the earth to open and swallow up those wicked
men, is no more an evidence of a divine hand, than Christ's
preventing the sea from swallowing up those that were in
the ship, by immediately quieting the winds and sea by a
word speaking, when the ship was even covered with waves,
through the violence of the tempest: at another time, up
holding Peter from sinking and being swallowed up by
the tempestuous sea, when walking on the water. Eli
sha's causing iron to swim, is mentioned in the Old Tes
tament as a great miracle. But this was not greater than
Christ's walking on the water, and causing Peter to walk
upon it. — When Elijah had restored to life the widow's son,
she says, 1 Kings xvii. 24. " By this I know that thou art
a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in thy mouth
is truth." But this sort of miracles Christ wrought, be
sides rising from the dead himself.
§ 7. Moses speaks of God's stilling the tempest in
Egypt, and causing the thunder and hail to cease, as that
which will convince Pharaoh, that the earth was the Lord's,
Exod. ix. 29. Then, by parity of reason, Christ's stilling
the tempest, and causing the winds and seas to obey him, is
an evidence, that the seas and earth were his. Moses, to
convince the people of his divine mission, took some of
the water of the river, and poured it out on the dry land,
and it was turned to blood; Exod. vii. 17 — 20. But this
was not a greater work, nor so glorious, as Christ's turning
water into wine.
§ 8. Abraham's conquering the four kings and their
armies, with his armed servants and confederates, greatly
. affected Melchisedek, king of Salem, and convinced him,
that Abraham was God's chosen friend ; chosen, that he
and his posterity might be blessed as God's people. But
what is this to jesus's conquering the world in its greatest
strength; and, when united under that, which by the pro-

474
phet Daniel is represented, as the greatest, and by far the
strongest monarchy, by his handful of poor, weak, illiterate
disciples ?
§ 9. Christ's victory over the false gods ofthe nations,
in this conquest, was far more conspicuous, as the opposi
tion was to them ; the strife was more directly with them ;
the thing professedly sought and aimed at by Christ in the
conflict, was the utter destruction of these false gods, the
entire rooting of them out, and the abolition of their wor
ship out of the world : and such a victory was obtained ;
those false gods were forsaken, their oracles silenced, their
temples destroyed, their images every where burnt, and
their remembrance made to cease ; so that now, for many
ages, they have not been remembered, any otherwise, than
as instances of the great blindness and folly of their vo
taries. § 10. How often are the miracles wrought in Egypt
spoken of as clear evidences, that he that wrought them,
was the Supreme God, and the only true God ; Exod.
vii. 3, 4, 5 ; chap. viii. 10, 19, 22.
§ 11. The work of Gideon in conquering the Midianites
and the multitudes that were joined with them, by three
hundred men, with the light of lamps and sound of trum
pets, is celebrated as a great work of God's power, Judges
vi. 14. and vii. 2, 7. But this is but a mere type of
Christ's conquering the world by the preaching of the
gospel. This victory over Midian is spoken of in the Scrip
ture, as representing the conquests of the Messiah, Isaiah
ix. 4.

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

CHAP. VI.
Observations on the Scriptures ; — their authority — and

§ 1. Some may ask, why the Scripture expresses things
so unintelligibly ? It tells us of Christ's living in us, of
our being united to him, of being the same spirit, and uses
many other such like expressions. Why doth it not
call directly by their intelligible names, those things that
lie hid under these expressions? I answer, Then we
should have a hundred pages to express what is implied in
these words, "ye are the temple of the Holy Ghost;"
neither would it after all be understood by the one fourth
part of mankind. Whereas, as it is expressed, it serves as
well to practice, if we will believe what God says, that,
some way or other, we are inhabited by the Holy Ghost as a
temple, and therefore we ought to keep ourselves holy and
pure. And we are united to Christ as much as members
are to the head ; and therefore ought to rejoice, seeing we
know that this union proceeds from his love to us ; and
that the effects of it are joy, happiness, spiritual and eter
nal life, &c. By such similitudes, a vast volume is repre
sented to our minds in three words ; and things that weare
not able to behold directly, are presented before us in lively
pictures. § 2. There is a strange and unaccountable kind of en
chantment, if I may so speak, in scripture history, which
although it is destitute of all rhetorical ornaments, makes it
vastly more pleasant, agreeable, easy, and natural than any
other history whatever. It shines bright with the amiable
simplicity of truth. There is something in the relation, that,
at the same time, very much pleases and engages the reader,
and evidences the truth ofthe fact. It is impossible to tell
fully what I mean, to any that have not taken notice of it
before. One reason doubtless is this : The Scripture sets
forth things just as they happened, with the minute circum
stances of time, place, situation, gesture, habit, &c. in such
a natural method, that we seem to be actually present; and
we insensibly fancy, not that we are readers, but spectators,
yea, actors in the business. These little circumstances
wonderfully help to brighten the ideas ofthe more princi
pal parts of the history. And, although the Scripture goes
beyond other histories, in mentioning such circumstances ;
yet no circumstances are mentioned, but those that won
derfully brighten the whole. So the story is told very fully,
and without in the least crowding things together, before
one has fully taken up what was last related ; and yet told
in much less room than any one else could tell it. Not

withstanding the minute circumstances mentioned, which
other historians leave out, it leads along our ideas so na
turally and easily, that they seem to go neither too fast nor
too slow. One seems to know as exactly how it is from
the relation, as if he saw it. The mind is so led on, that
sometimes we seem to have a full, large, and particular
historv of a long time : so that if we should shut the book
immediately, without taking particular notice, we should
not suppose the story had been told in half so little room ;
and yet a long train of ideas is communicated. The story
is so narrated, that our mind, although some facts are not
mentioned, yet naturally traces the whole transaction.
And although it be thus skilfully contrived, yet things are
told in such a simple, plain manner, that the least child can
understand them. This is a perfection in the sacred
writers, which no other authors can equal.
§ 3. It is an argument with me, that the world is not yet
very near its end, that the church has made no greater pro
gress in understanding the mysteries of the Scriptures. The
Scriptures, in all their parts, were made for the use of the
church here on earth; and it seems reasonable to suppose
that God will, by degrees, unveil their meaning to his
church. It was made mysterious, in many places having
great difficulties, that his people might have exercise for
their pious wisdom and study, and that his church might
make progress in the understanding of it, as the philosophi
cal world makes progress in the understanding of the book
of nature, and in unfolding its mysteries. A divine wis
dom appears in ordering it thus. How much better is it
to have divine truth and light break forth in this way, than
it would have been, to have had it shine at once to every
one, without any labour or industry ofthe understanding?
It would be less delightful, and less prized and admired,
and would have had vastly less influence on men's hearts,
and would have been less to the glory of God.
§ 4. It seems to be evident, that the church is not as yet
arrived to that perfection in understanding the Scripture,
which we can imagine is the highest that God ever intend
ed the church should come to. There are a multitude of
things in the Old Testament, which the church then did
not understand, but were reserved to be unfolded in the
christian church, such as most of their types, and shadows,
and prophecies, which make up the greatest part of the Old
Testament. So I believe there are now many truths that
remain to be discovered by the church, in the glorious
times that are approaching.
§ 5. Another thing from which we may draw the same
conclusion, is, that it is the manner of God, to keep his
church on earth in hope of a still more glorious state : and
so their prayers are enlivened, when they pray that the in
terest of religion may be promoted, and God's kingdom
may come. God kept the church, under the Old Testa
ment, in hope ofthe times of the Messiah. The disciples
of Christ were kept in hope of the conversion of the Roman
empire, which was effected about three hundred years
after. But it seems to me, not likely, that the church,
from that time, should have no more to hope for from
God's word, no higher advancement, till the consummation
of all things. Indeed, there will be a great but short apos
tacy, a little before the end of the world ; but then, it is
probable, the thing that the church will hope and long for,
will be Christ's last coming, to advance his church to its
highest and its everlasting glory ; for that will then appear
to be the only remedy : for the church will expect no more
from the clear light and truth which will have been so glo
riously displayed already, under the millennium. Another
end of thus keeping his church in hope is, to quicken and
enliven their endeavours to propagate religion, and to ad
vance the kingdom of Jesus. It is a great encouragement
to such endeavours, to think, that such times are coming,
wherein Christianity shall prevail over all enemies. And
it would be a great discouragement to the labours of na
tions, or pious magistrates and divines, to endeavour to ad
vance Christ's kingdom, if they understood that it was not
to be advanced. And indeed, the keeping alive such hopes
in the church, has a tendency to enliven all piety and reli
gion in the general, amongst God's people.
§ 6. When we inquire, whether or no we have scripture
grounds for any doctrine, the question is, Whether or no
ihe Scripture exhibits it any way to the eye of the mind, or

Chap. VI.

ON THE SCRIPTURES, &c.

475

lo the eve of reason ? We have no grounds to assert, that
it was God's intent, by the Scripture, in so many terms, to
declare every doctrine that he would have us believe.
There are many things the Scripture may suppose that we
know already. And if what the Scripture says, together
with what is plain to reason, leads to believe any doctrine,
we are to look upon ourselves as taught that doctrine by
the Scripture. God may reveal things in Scripture, which
way he pleases. If, by what he there reveals, the thing
is any way clearly discovered to the understanding, or eye
ofthe mind, it is our duty to receive it as his revelation.
§ 7. The greatest part of Christians were very early
agreed what books were canonical, and to be looked upon
as the rule of their faith. It is impossible, in the nature of
things, but some churches must receive the books long
after others, as they lay at a greater distance from the
places where they were written, or had less convenience of
communication with them. Besides, as Christianity, for
a long time, laboured under the disadvantages of continual
persecution, no general councils could be convened, and so
there could be no public notification of universal agree
ment in this matter. But notwithstanding all these
things, it is yet discoverable, that, as soon as can be sup
posed, after the writing the books, the Christians, in all
countries, remarkably agreed in receiving them as canon
ical. § 8. Several of the first writers of Christianity, have left
us, in their works, catalogues of the sacred books of the
New Testament, which, though made in countries at a vast
distance from each other, do very little differ. Great were
the pains and care of those early Christians, to be well
assured what were the genuine writings of the apostles,
and to distinguish them from all pretended revelations of
designing men, and the forgeries they published under
sacred titles. Thus, when a presbyter of Asia had pub
lished a spurious piece, under the name of Paul, he was
immediately convicted, and notice of the forgery was soon
conveyed to Carthage and the churches of Africa.
§ 9. Hence it follows, that the primitive Christians are
proper judges to determine what book is canonical, and
what not. For nothing can be more absurd than to sup
pose, in those early ages, an agreement so universal,
without good and solid foundation : or, in other words, it
is next to impossible, either that so great a number of
men should agree in a cheat, or be imposed upon by a
cheat. But there are some particular circumstances that
make the inference more clear as to the christian books,
than others ; such as, the prodigious esteem the books at
first were received with ; the constant use that was made
of them in their religious assemblies ; the translations
made of them very eariy into other languages, &c*
§ 10. The omission of a book in some one or two par
ticular catalogues, cannot, with any reason, be urged
against its canonical authority, if it be found in all, or
most of the others, and any good reason can be assigned
for the omission, where it occurs. Thus, for instance, the
Revelation is omitted, either perhaps because it was not
known to the author, or its credit was not sufficiently
established in the country where he lived ; or perhaps,
which may be as probable as the other, because it being
so full of mysteries, few or none were judged proper or
able to read it to any purpose. This was certainly the
case in England :,this book being, for this reason, omitted
in the public calendar for reading the Scriptures, though it
be received into the canon. If, therefore, these, or any
such good reasons, can be assigned for the omission of a
book in a particular catalogue, it will be very unfair to
infer that such book is apocryphal, especially when it is
to be found in many or most other catalogues.
§ 11. The catalogues drawn up by Athanasius, bishop
of Alexandria, (A. D. 315,) — by Epiphanius, bishop of
Salamis, (A. D. 370,) — by Jerome, of Dalmatia, (A. D.
382,)— by Ruffin, presbyter of Aquilegium, (A. D. 390,)
—by Augustine, bishop of Hippo, (A. D. 394,) — by
forty-four bishops, assembled in the 3d council of Car
thage, (A. D. 416,) were perfectly the same with ours now
received .f
§ 12. It is exceedingly natural to suppose, that these
* See Jones's canon of the New Testament, part i. chap. 5.

two things together, would soon lead the apostles to write
some history of the acts, and doctrine, and sufferings of
Christ, their great Lord, and the head of the christian
church ; viz. first, Tlieir unavoidable experience of the
need of such a thing ; and, secondly, The example of the
penmen of the Old Testament, in writing the history of
Abraham, Moses, David, Solomon, and others, whose
persons and actions they esteemed of vastly less import
ance than those of the Son of God, who was greater than
Jonas, or David, or Solomon, or Moses, or Abraham.
§13. It is a great argument, that there were some
genuine gospels, or authentic histories of Christ's life and
death, that the christian church had under the name of
tospels, that there were such a multitude of forged
ibulous accounts, or histories, of Christ, all under the
same name of gospels. These fictions are evidently
counterfeits or imitations of something that was looked on
by all as true and undoubted. And, that there should be
such a multitude of counterfeits and imitations of these
gospels, shows not only that there were genuine gospels,
but also shows the great value and importance of these
genuine .gospels, and the high repute they had in the
christian churches. — Mr. Jones mentions the following
spurious gospels, now not extant, mentioned by the writers
of the primitive church : By the writers of the second
century, the gospel of Judas Iscariot ; the gospel of Truth ;
the gospel of the Egyptians ; the gospel of Valentinus ;
the gospel of Marcion. By writers of the third century,
the gospel of the Twelve Apostles; the gospel of Basilides ;
the gospel of Thomas ; the gospel of Matthias. By
writers of the fourth century, the gospel of Scythianus ; the
gospel of Bartholomew ; the gospel of Apelles ; the
gospel of Lucianus ; the gospel of Hesychius ; the gospel
of Perfection ; the gospel of Eve ; the gospel of Philip ;
the gospel of the Ebionites; the gospel of Jude; the
gospel of the Encratites ; the gospel of Cerinthus ; the
gospel of Merinthus ; the gospel of Thaddeus ; the gospel
of Barnabas ; the gospel of Andrew. And some he men
tions besides, that are now extant ; as, the gospel of our
Saviour's infancy ; the gospel of Nicodemus.
§ 14. Public societies cannot be maintained without
trials and witnesses : and if witnesses are not firmly
persuaded, that he who holds the supreme power over
them, is omniscient, just, and powerful, and will revenge
falsehood, there will be no dependence on their oaths, or
most solemn declarations. — God therefore must be the
supreme magistrate ; society depends absolutely on him ;
and all kingdoms and communities are but provinces of
his universal kingdom, who is King of kings, Lord of
lords, and Judge of judges. — Thus, as mankind cannot
subsist out of society, nor society itself subsist without
religion ; I mean, without faith in the infinite power,
wisdom, and justice of God, and a judgment to come ;
religion cannot be a falsehood. It is not credible, that
all the happiness of mankind, the whole civil world, and
peace, safety, justice, and truth itself, should have nothing
to stand on but a lie : it is not to be supposed that God
would give the world no other foundation. So that
religion is absolutely necessary, and must have some sure
foundation. But there can be no good, sure foundation of
religion, without mankind having a right idea of God,
and some sure and clear knowledge of him, and of our
dependence on him. Lord Shaftesbury himself owns, that
wrong ideas of God will hurt society as much, if not
more, than ignorance of him can do.
§ 15. Now, the question is, " Whether nature and
reason alone can give us a right idea of God, and are
sufficient to establish among mankind a clear and sure
knowledge of his nature, and the relation we stand in to
him, and his concern with us ? It may well be questioned,
whether any man hath this from the mere light of nature.
Nothing can seem more strange, than that the wisest and
most sagacious of all men, I mean the philosophers, should
have searched with all imaginable candour and anxiety for
this, and searched in vain, if the light of nature alone is
sufficient to give it to, and establish it among, mankind in
general." — There never was a man known or heard of,
who had an idea of God, without being taught it.^- Whole
t See Jones's canon of the New Testament, part i. chap. 8.

476

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part 1.

sects of philosophers denied the very being of God ; and
some have died martyrs to Atheism, as, Vaninus, Jor-
danus, Bruno, Cosimir, Liszinsai, and Mahomet Effendi.
—A man, confined to a dungeon all his days, and deprived
of all conversation with mankind, probably would not so
much as once consider who made him, or whether he was
made or not, nor entertain the least notion of God. There
are many instances of people born absolutely deaf and
blind, who never showed the least sense of religion or
knowledge of God.
§ 16. ft is one thing, to work out a demonstration of a
point, when once it is proposed ; and another, to strike
upon the point itself. I cannot tell whether any man
would have considered the works of creation as effects, if
he had never been told they had a cause. We know very
well, that, even after the being of such a cause was much
talked of in the world, and believed by the generality of
mankind ; yet many and great philosophers held the world
to be eternal ; and others ascribed, what we call the works
of creation, to an eternal series of causes. If the most
sagacious of the philosophers were capable of doing this,
after hearing so much of a first cause and a creation, what
would they have done, and what would the gross of man
kind, who are inattentive and ignorant, have thought of
the matter, if nothing had been taught concerning God
and the origin of things ; but every single man left solely
to such intimation as his own senses and reason could have
given him ? We find, the earlier ages of the world did not
trouble themselves about the question, whether the being
of God could be proved by reason; but either never
inquired into the matter, or took their opinions, upon that
head, merely from tradition. But, allowing that every man
is able to demonstrate to himself, that the world, and all
things contained therein, are effects, and had a beginning,
which I take to be a most absurd supposition, and look
upon it to be almost impossible for unassisted reason to
go so far; yet, if effects are to be ascribed to similar
causes, and a good and wise effect must suppose a good
and wise cause, by the same way of reasoning, all the evil
and irregularity in the world must be attributed to an evil
and unwise cause. So that either the first cause must be
both good and evil, wise and foolish, or else there must be
two first causes, an evil and irrational, as well as a good
and wise principle. Thus, man left to himself, would be
apt to reason, " If the cause and the effects are similar and
conformable, matter must have a material cause; there
being nothing more impossible for us to conceive, than how
matter should be produced by spirit, or any thing else but
matter." The best reasoner in the world, endeavouring to
find out the causes of things, by the things themselves,
might be led into the grossest errors and contradictions,
and find himself, at the end, in extreme want of an in
structor. § 1 7. In all countries we are acquainted with, knowledge
bears an exact proportion to instruction. Why does the
learned and well educated reason better than the mere
citizen ? why the citizen better than the boor ? why the
English boor better than the Spanish ? why the Spanish
better than the Moorish ? why the Moorish better than the
Negro? and why he better than the Hottentot? If, then,
reason is found to go band in hand, and step by step, with
education ; what would be the consequence, if there were
no education ? There is no fallacy more gross, than to
imagine reason, utterly untaught and undisciplined, capable
of the same attainments in knowledge, as reason well re
fined and instructed : or to suppose, that reason can as
easily find in itself principles to argue from, as draw the
consequences, when once they are found ; I mean, espe
cially in respect to objects not perceivable by our senses.
In ordinary articles of knowledge, our senses and experi
ence furnish reason with ideas and principles to work on :
continual conferences and debates give it exercise in such
matters ; and that improves its vigour and activity. But,
in respect to God, it can have no right idea nor axiom to
set out with, till he is pleased to reveal it.
§ 18. What instance can be mentioned, from any history,
of any one nation under the sun, that emerged from atheism
or idolatry, into the knowledge or adoration of the one
true God, without the assistance of revelation? The
Americans, the Africans, the Tartars, and the ingenious

Chinese, have had time enough, one would think, to find
out the true and right idea of God ; and yet, after above
five thousand years' improvements, and the full exercise of
reason, they have, at this day, got no further in their pro
gress towards the true religion, than to the worship of
stocks and stones and devils. How many thousand years
must be allowed to these nations, to reason themselves into
the true religion? What the light of nature and reason
could do to investigate the knowledge of God, is best seen
by what they have already done. We cannot argue more
convincingly on any foundation, than that of known and
incontestable facts.
§ 19. Le Compte and Duhald assure us, the Chinese,
after offering largely to their gods, and being disappointed
of their assistance, sometimes sue them for damages, and
obtain decrees against them from the Mandarin. This
ingenious people, when their houses are on fire, to the
imminent peril of their wooden gods, hold them to the
flames, in hopes of extinguishing them by it. The Tyrians
were a wise people ; and therefore, when Alexander laid
siege to their city, they chained Apollo to Hercules, to pre
vent his giving them the slip.
v 20. Revenge and self-murder were not only tolerated,
but esteemed heroic, by the best of the heathen. I know
not, in all profane history, six more illustrious characters,
than those of Lycurgus, Timoleon, Cicero, Cato Uticensis,
Brutus, and Germanicus. The first encouraged tricking
and stealing, by an express law. The second, upon prin
ciple, murdered his own brother. Cicero, with all his fine
talk about religion and virtue, had very little of either ; as
may appear by what he says, (I think it is in a letter to
Atticus,) on the death of his daughter Tullia, " I hate the
very gods, who hitherto have been so profuse in their
favours to me ;" and by deserting his friends and his
country, and turning a servile flatterer to Csesar. Brutus
concludes all his mighty heroism with this . exclamation :
" Virtue, I have pursued thee in vain, and found thee to
be but an empty name ;" and then kills himself. Cato's
virtue was not strong enough to hinder his turning a public
robber and oppressor ; (witness his Cyprian expedition ;)
nor to bear up against the calamities of life : and so he
stabbed himself, and ran away, like a coward, from his
country and the world. Germanicus, who exceeded all
men in his natural sweetness of temper, at the approach of
death, called his friends about him, and spent his last
moments in pressing them to take revenge of Piso and
Plancina, for poisoning or bewitching him ; in directing
them how this might be best done ; and in receiving
their oaths for the performance of his request. His sense
of religion he thus expressed oil that occasion : " Had I
died by the decree of fate, I should have had just cause of
resentment against the gods, for hurrying me away from
my parents, my wife and my children, in the flower of my
youth, by an untimely death."
§ 21. Socrates, Plato, and Cicero, who were more in
clined to the belief of a future existence, than the other
philosophers, plead for it with arguments of no force:
speak of it with the utmost uncertainty ; and therefore,
are afraid to found their system of duty and virtue on the
expectation of it. Their notions of morality were of a
piece with their religion, and had little else for a founda
tion than vain-glory. Tully, in his treatise of Friendship,
says, that virtue proposes glory as its end, and hath no other
reward. Accordingly, he maintains, that wars undertaken
for glory, are not unlawful, provided they are carried on
without the usual cruelty. Diogenes, and the sect of the
Cynics, held, that parents have a right to sacrifice and eat
their children ; and that there is nothing shameful in com
mitting the grossest acts of lewdness publicly, and before
the faces of mankind. The virtuous sentiments discovered
by the philosophers on some occasions, will neither palliate
these execrable principles, nor suffer us to think those who
could abet them, fit instructors for mankind. Zeno, Cle-
ombrotus, and Menippus, committed murder on them
selves : the last, because he had lost a considerable sum
of money, which, as he was an usurer, went a little too
near his heart. That I do not charge the philosophers
with worse principles and practices, than they themselves
maintain, and their own pagan historians ascribe to them,
any one may satisfy himself, who will consult Diogenes,

Chap. VI.

ON THE SCRIPTURES, &c.

477

Laertius, Sextus Empiricus, Lucian, Plutarch, and the
works of Plato, Aristotle, and Cicero.
§ 22. Thus, it is plain, whether we consider what the
human understanding could do, or what it actually did,
that it could not have attained to a sufficient knowledge of
God, without revelation ; so that the demonstration brought
in favour of some religion, ends in a demonstration of the
revealed. When we attentively consider the nature of
man, we find it necessary he should have some religion.
When we consider the nature of God, we must conclude
he never would have made a falsehood necessary to the
happiness of his rational creatures ; and that therefore
there must be a true religion. And when we consider,
that, by our natural faculties, it is extremely difficult to
arrive at a right idea of God, till he reveals it to us ; that
all the Gentile world hath run into the grossest theolo
gical errors, and, in consequence of these, into the most
enormous customs and crimes ; and that no legislator ever
founded his scheme of civil government on any supposed
religious dictates of nature, hut always on some real or
pretended revelations : we cannot help ascribing all the
true religion in the world to divine instruction; and all the
frightful variety of religious errors to human invention,
and to that dark and degenerate nature, by the imaginary
light of which, deists suppose the right idea of God may
be easily and universally discovered.
§ 23. Socrates, who never travelled out of Greece, had
nothing to erect a scheme of religion or morality on, but
the scattered fragments of truth, handed down from time
immemorial among his countrymen, or imported by Py
thagoras, Thales, and others, who had been in Egypt and
the East. These he picked out from a huge heap of ab
surdities and errors, under which they were buried ; and,
by the help of a most prodigious capacity, laying them
together, comparing them with the nature of things, and
drawing consequences from them, he found reason to
question the soundness of the Grecian theology and mo
rality. But this is all the length he seems to have gone.
He reasoned extremely well against the prevailing errors
of. his time ; but was able to form no system of religion
or morality. This was a work above the strength of his
nature, and the lights he enjoyed. He taught his disciples
to worship the gods, and to ground the distinction between
right and wrong on the laws of their country ; in the latter
of which he followed the saying of his master Archelaus,
who taught, that what is just or dishonest, is defined by
law, not bv nature.
y 24. The notions of Plato concerning the divine na
ture, were infinitely more sublime and nearer the truth,
than those of his master Socrates. He did not content
himself merely with removing errors : he ventured on a
system ; and maintained, that virtue is a science, and that
God is the object and source of duty ; that there is but
one God, the fountain of all being, and superior to all es
sence ; that he hath a Son, called The World ; that there
is a judgment to come by which the just who have suf
fered in this life, shall be recompensed in the other, and
the wicked punished eternally ; that God is omnipresent;
and consequently, that the wicked, if he were to dive into
the deepest caverns of the earth, or should get wings, and
fly into the heavens, would not be able to escape from
him ; that man is formed in the image of God ; and
that, in order to establish laws and government, relations
made by true traditions and ancient oracles are to be con
sulted. These points, so much insisted on by Plato, are
far from being the growth of Greece, or his own invention,
but derived from Eastern traditions, which we know he
travelled for, at least as far as Egypt. He was wiser than
his teacher, (who was a much greater man,) because his
lights were better : but, as they were not sufficient, he ran
into great errors, speaking plainly as if he believed in a
plurality of gods; making goods, women, and children,
common, &c.
5 25. The natural faculties of men, in all nations, are
alike; and did nature itself furnish all men with the
means and materials of knowledge, philosophy need never
turn traveller, either in order to her own improvement, or
to the communication of her lights to the world. How
came it to pass that Scythia did not produce so many, so
great philosophers, as Greece ? I think it very evident,

that the great difference between these countries as to
learning and instruction, arose from this : the latter had
the benefit of commerce with the Phoenicians, from whence
they came by the knowledge of letters, and probably of
navigation ; and with the Egyptians, from whom they
learned the greater part of their theology, policy, arts, and
sciences. Such advantages the Scythians wanted ; and
therefore, although their natural talents were as good as
those of the Grecians, they were not able to make any
improvements in philosophy. Why are the Asiatic Scy
thians at this day as ignorant as ever, while the European
Scythians are little inferior to the other nations of Europe
in arts and politeness ? And how does it come to pass,
that we, at this day, take upon us to approve the philoso
phy of Socrates and Plato, rather than that of Epicurus
and Aristippus ? The Grecians were divided in this mat
ter ; some followed the notions of the former, and others
those of the latter. Why did not reason put the matter
out of question in those times, or at least immediately
after ? The infinite contradictions and uncertainties among
the ancient philosophers produced the sects of the sceptics.
In respect to religion, Socrates and Plato either were, or
pretended to be, sceptics, beating down the absurd notions
of others, but seldom building up any thing of their own ;
or, when they did, building on mere conjectures, or argu
ments suspected by themselves.
§ 26. If it be said, the finding out of truth by the light
of nature, is a work of time; time hath taught the Tar
tars, Africans, and Americans, little or nothing of true
theology or morality, even yet. Time of itself can search
nothing. It was the christian religion that opened the
eyes of the polite nations of Europe, and even of the deists
of this age, wherein tlieir eyes are still open, and they have
any true principles by which they are able to examine the
philosophy of the ancients, and, by comparing their several
opinions one with another, and with the truths derived
from the christian revelation, to decide in favour of some
against the rest.
§ 27. As to the doctrine of the immortality of the
soul ; it is certain nothing can be more agreeable to rea
son, when once the doctrine is proposed and thoroughly
canvassed ; while, at the same time, there is no one pro
bable opinion in the world which mankind, left entirely to
themselves, would have been more unlikely to have start
ed. Who, if he was not assured of it by good authority,
would ever take it into his head to imagine, that man,
who dies, and rots, and vanishes for ever, like all other
animals, still exists ? It is well, if this, when proposed,
can be believed ; but, to strike out the thought itself, is
somewhat, I am afraid, too high and difficult for the capa
city of men. The only natural argument of any weight,
for the immortality of the soul, takes its rise from this ob
servation, that justice is not extended to the good, nor
executed upon the bad, man in this life ; and that, as the
Governor of the world is just, man must live hereafter to
be judged. But as this only argument that can be drawn
from mere reason, in order either to lead us to a discovery
of our own immortality, or to support the opinion of it
when once started, is founded entirely on the knowledge
of God and his attributes ; and as we have already seen,
that such knowledge is almost unattainable by the pre
sent light of nature, the argument itself, which, before the
fall, could not possibly have been thought of, is, since the
fall, clogged with all the difficulties mere reason labours
under, in finding out a right idea of God. And besides,
this argument in itself is utterly inconclusive, on the
principles of the deists of our age and nation ; because
they insist that virtue fully rewards, and vice fully pun
ishes itself. It is no wonder that many heathen nations
believed a future state, as they received it by tradition
from their ancestors.— But yet, there is this evidence that
mankind had not this doctrine merely from the easy and
plain dictates of reason and nature, that many did not
believe it.
§ 28. Socrates, in the Phaedon of Plato, says, most men
were of opinion, that the soul, upon its separation from
the body, is dissipated and reduced to nothing. And
Tully, in his first Tusculan question, says, Pherecydes
Syrus, preceptor to Pythagoras, was the first person known
to the learned world, who taught the immortality of the

478

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

soul. The other arguments brought by Plato and Cicero
for the immortality of the soul, besides that already men
tioned, are very inconclusive. They themselves thought
so. The former, in his Phadon, makes Socrates speak
with some doubt concerning his own arguments, and in
troduces Simias saying to Socrates, after having listened to
his principal reasonings, " We ought to lay hold of the
strongest arguments for this doctrine, that either we our
selves, or others, can suggest to us. If both ways prove
ineffectual, we must however put up with the best proofs
we can get, till some promise or revelation shall clear up
the point to us." — One of Plato's arguments for the im
mortality of the soul, is this : " Every cause produces an
effect contrary to itself; and that, therefore, as life pro
duces death, so death shall produce life." Cicero, to
prove that the soul will exist after it is separated from the
body, endeavours to prove that it existed before it was
joined to it; and to that end he insists, " that what we
call aptness in children to learn, is nothing more than
memory." Another argument of Plato is this : " That
alone which moves itself, inasmuch as it is never deserted
by itself, never ceases to move : but the mind moves it
self, and borrows not its motion from any thing else, and
therefore must move, and consequently exist, for ever."
The wisdom of Socrates and Plato united, produce such
arguments for a most favourite opinion, as they themselves
are dissatisfied with, and therefore call for more than
human help.
§ 29. Cicero being so fond of this opinion, that, as he
says, he would rather err with Plato in holding it, than
think rightly with those who deny it, poorly echoes the
arguments of Plato; adds little to them himself; and, at
the conclusion, in a manner giving up the point, with all
the arguments brought to support it, endeavours to com
fort himself and others against the approach of death, by
proving death to be no evil, even supposing the soul to
perish with the body. And this great philosopher, with
all his knowledge, gives but one lot to the good and evil
in another life. It was his opinion, If the soul is immor
tal, it must be happy : if it perishes with the body, it cannot
be miserable. This consolation he administers alike to all
men, without making any distinction, and consequently
leaves moral obligation on a mere temporal footing, which,
in effect, is not a whit better than downright atheism. But
in his dream of Scipio, when he does not reason nor seem
to inculcate any particular doctrine, he indeed introduces
the elder Scipio telling the younger, by way of dream, that
those who served their country, and cultivated justice and
the other virtues, should go to heaven after death : but
that the souls of those that had violated the laws of the
gods and men, should, after leaving their bodies, be tossed
about on the earth, and not return to heaven for many
ages. Now, if a person of Cicero's abilities and learning
could, from the light of nature, work out no better scheme
than this, which renders futurity almost useless to moral
obligation, how much farther from truth and reason must
we suppose the bulk of mankind to stray, if each ignorant
person is to be left entirely to his own thoughts and dis
coveries, in respect to the future rewards of virtue, and
punishments of vice ?
§ 30. Thus, upon considering the extent and strength of
human faculties, we have found them at present utterly
incapable of attaining to any competent notion of a divine
law, if left wholly to themselves. This is vastly confirmed
by experience ; from which it appears, that mankind, in
stead of being able, through a long series of ages, by the
mere light of nature, to find out a right idea of God and
his laws ; on the contrary — after having, without doubt,
been well acquainted at first with both — gradually, and at
.length almost universally, lost sight of both; insomuch,
that idolatry as bad as atheism, and wickedness worse than
brutality, were established for religion and law in all
countries. The philosophers who lived in the most know
ing countries, and sought for religion and moral truth, but
sought in vain, as the wisest of them confess, render this
argument still more cogent and conclusive.
§ 31. As the apostle Paul observes in the first chapter
of his epistle to the Romans, men did not like to retain
God in their knowledge; and, professing themselves to
be wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the

incorruptible God into an image like to corruptible man,
and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things.
Thus were their foolish hearts darkened ; upon which God
gave them over to a reprobate mind, and gave them up to
uncleanness, to sins of all kinds, even such as were utterly
against nature. St. Chrysostom, in his descant on this
passage, says, " The Gentiles fell into a kind of madness,
insomuch, that having deprived themselves of the light,
and involved their minds in the darkness of their own
thoughts, their attempt to travel towards heaven ended in
a miserable shipwreck, as his must do, who, in a dark
night, undertakes a voyage by sea." Being guided by
conceit, and too great an attachment to sensible things,
they entered upon a wrong way; so that, still the longer
they travelled, the farther they wandered from the know
ledge of the true God, and right religion. The doctrine of
St. Paul, concerning the blindness into which the Gentiles
fell, is so confirmed by the state of religion in Africa,
America, and even China, where, to this day, no advances
towards the true religion have been made, that we can no
longer be at a loss to judge of the insufficiency of unas
sisted reason, to dissipate the prejudices of the heathen
world, and open their eyes to religious truths.
§ 32. The starting of a proposition is one thing, and the
proof of it quite another. Every science has its proofs in
the nature of things. Yet all sciences require to be taught;
and those require it most, the first principles of which lie
a little out of the reach of ordinary capacities. The first
principles of religion, being of a high and spiritual nature,
are harder to be found out than those of any other science ;
because the minds of men are gross and earthly, used lo
objects of sense ; and all their depraved appetites and
corrupt dispositions, which are by nature opposite to the
true religion, help to increase the natural weakness of their
reason, and clip the wings of their contemplation, when
they endeavour, by their own strength, to soar towards
God and heavenly things. No man in his, nor hardly in
any other time, knew better how to catch at the evidence
of divine truths discovered in the works of creation, nor
had better opportunities, than Plato. Yet, with all the
help he derived from foreign and domestic instruction, he
finds himself on every occasion at a loss. When he speaks
of God and divine matters, he relies on oracles, traditions,
and revelations ; and having got a little taste of this kind
of instruction, is every now and then confessing his want
of more, and wishing for it with the greatest anxiety. And,
not thinking the traditions which he was acquainted with
sufficient, he talks of a future instructor to be sent from
God, to teach the world a more perfect knowledge of reli
gious duties. " The truth is," (says he, speaking in his
first book De Legibus, concerning future rewards and
punishments,) " to determine or establish any thing cer
tain about these matters, in the midst of so many doubts
and disputations, is the work of God only." In his Pha-
don, one of the speakers says to Socrates concerning the
immortality qf the soul, " I am of the same opinion with
you, that in this life, it is either absolutely impossible, or
extremely difficult, to arrive at a clear knowledge in this
matter." In the apology he wrote for Socrates, he puts
these words into his mouth, on the subject of reformation
of manners : " You may pass the remainder of your davs
in sleep, or despair of finding out a sufficient expedient for
this purpose, if God, in his providence, doth not send you
some other instructor." And in his Epinomis he says,
" Let no man take upon him to teach, if God'do not lead
the way."
§ 33. In the book De Mundo, ascribed to Aristotle, we
have a remarkable passage to this effect : " It is an old
tradition, almost universally received, that all things pro
ceeded from God, and subsist through him ; and that no
nature is self-sufficient, or independent of God's protection
and assistance." In his Metaphysics, he ascribes the
belief of the gods, and of this, that the Deity compasses
and comprehends all nature, to a traditionary habit of
speaking, handed down from the first men to after-ages.
Cicero, in his treatise concerning the nature of the gods,
introduces Cotta blaming those who endeavoured, by
argumentation, to prove there are gods, and affirming that
this only served to make the point doubtful, which, by the
instructions and traditions of their forefathers, had been

Chap. VI.

ON THE SCRIPTURES, &c.

479

sufficiently made known to them, and established. Plu
tarch, speaking ofthe worship paid to a certain ideal divinity,
which his friend had called in question, says, " It is enough
to believe pursuant to the faith of our ancestors, and the
instructions communicated to us in the country where we
were born and bred ; than which, we can neither find out,
nor apply, any argument more to be depended on."
§ 34. It will be further useful to observe, that the
thoughts of men, with regard to any internal law, will be
always mainly influenced by their sentiments concerning
the chief good. Whatsoever power or force may do in
respect' to the outward actions of a man, nothing can
oblige him to think or act, as often as he is at liberty,
against what he takes to be his chief good or interest. No
law, nor system of laws, can possibly answer the end and
purpose of a law, till the grand question, what is the chief
happiness and end of man, be determined, and so cleared
up, that every man may be fully satisfied about it. Before
our Saviour's time, the world was infinitely divided on this
important head. The philosophers were miserably bewil
dered in all their researches after the chief good. Each sect,
each subdivision of a sect, had a chief good of its own, and
rejected all the rest. They advanced, as Varro tells us, no
fewer than 288 opinions in relation to this matter ; which
shows, by a strong experiment, that the light of nature was
altogether unable to settle the difficulty. Every man, if left
to the particular bias of his own nature, chooses out a chief
good for himself, and lays the stress of all his thoughts
and actions on it. Now, if the supposed chief good of
any man should lead him, as it often does, to violate the laws
of society, to hurt others, and act against the general good of
mankind, he will be very unfit for society; and conse
quently, as he cannot subsist out of it, an enemy to
himself. § 35. If Christianity came too late into the world, what
is called natural religion came full as late ; and there are
no footsteps of natural religion, in any sense ofthe words,
to be found at this day, but where Christianity hath been
planted. In every place else, religion hath no conformity
with reason or truth. So far is the light of nature from
lending sufficient assistance. It is strange, that the natu
ral light should be so clear, and yet the natural darkness
so great, that in all unassisted countries the most monstrous
forms of religion, derogatory to God, and prejudicial to
man, should be contrived by some, and swallowed by the
rest, with a most voracious credulity. I could wish most
heartily, that all nations were Christians ; yet, since it is
otherwise, we derive this ad vantage from it, that we have
a standing and contemporary demonstration of that which
nature, left to herself, can do. Had all the world been
Christians for some ages past, our present libertines would
insist that Christianity had done no service to mankind ;
that nature could have sufficiently directed herself; and
that all the stories told, either in sacred or profane history,
of the idolatry and horrible forms of religion in ancient
times, were forged by christian priests, to make the world
think revelation necessary, and natural reason incapable
of dictating true and right notions of religion. But, as the
case stands at present, we have such proof, of the insuffi
ciency of unassisted reason in this behalf, as all the sub
tlety of libertines is unable to evade.
§ 36. All that the Grecians, Romans, and present Chi
nese, know of true religion, they were taught traditionally.
As to their corrupt notions and idolatries, they were of
their own invention. The Grecians, who were by far the
most knowing people of the three, were as gross idolaters
as the rest, till Plato's time. He travelled into the East,
and ran higher towards truth in his sentiments of religion,
than others ; but still worshipped the gods of his country,
and durst not speak out all he knew. However, he formed
- a great school, and, both through, his writings and scholars,
instructed his countrymen in a kind of religious philosophy,
that tended much more directly and strongly to reforma
tion of manners, than either the dictates of their own rea
son, or of their other philosophers. All the philosophy of
the Gentile nations, excepting that of Socrates and Plato,
was derived from the source of self-sufficiency. Only
these two acknowledge the blindness of human nature, and
* From § M— § 36. is chiefly out of " Deism Revealed," second edition.

the necessity of a divine instructor. No other heathen
philosopher founded his morality on any sense of religion,
or ever dreamt of an inability in man to render himself
happy*

CHAP. VII.
The insufficiency qf reason as a substitute for revelation.
§ 1. By reason, I mean that power or faculty an intelli
gent being has to judge of the truth of propositions ; either
immediately, by only looking on the propositions, which is
judging by intuition and self-evidence ; or by putting to
gether several propositions, which are already evident by
intuition, or at least whose evidence is originally derived
from intuition.
Great part of Tindal's arguing, in his Christianity as
old as the Creation, proceeds on this ground, That since
reason is the judge whether there be any revelation, or
whether any pretended revelation be realiy such; there
fore reason, without revelation, or undirected by revelation,
must be the judge concerning each doctrine and proposi
tion contained in that pretended revelation. This is an
unreasonable way of arguing. It is as much as to say,
that seeing reason is to judge of the truth of any general
proposition, therefore, in all cases, reason alone, without
regard to that proposition, is to judge separately and inde
pendently of each particular proposition implied in, or de
pending and consequent upon, that general proposition.
For, whether any supposed or pretended divine revelation
be indeed such, is a general proposition : and the particu
lar truths delivered in and by it, are particular propositions
implied in, and consequent on, that general one. Tindal
supposes each of these truths must be judged of by them
selves, independently of our judging of that general truth,
that the revelation that declares them is the word of God ;
evidently supposing, that if each of these propositions, thus
judged of particularly, cannot be found to be agreeable to
reason ; or if reason alone will not show the truth of them,
then, that general proposition on which they depend, viz.
That the word which declares them is a divine revelation,
is to be rejected : which is most unreasonable, and con
trary to all the rules of common sense, and of the proceed
ing of all mankind, in their reasoning and judging of things
in all affairs whatsoever. — For this is certain, that a propo
sition may be evidently true, or we may have good reason
to receive it as true, though the particular propositions that
depend upon it, and follow from it, may be such, that our
reason, independent of it, cannot see the truth, or can- see
it to be true by no other means, than by first establishing
that other truth on which it depends. For otherwise, there.
is an end of all use of our reasoning powers ; an end of all
arguing one proposition from another ; and nothing is to
be judged true, but what appears true by looking on it
directly and immediately, without the help of another pro
position first established, on which the evidence of it de
pends. — For therein consists all reasoning or argumentation
whatsoever ; viz. in discovering the truth of a proposition,
whose truth does not appear to our reason immediately, or
when we consider it alone, but by the help of some other
proposition on which it depends.
§ 2. If this be not allowed, we must believe nothing at
all, but self-evident propositions, and then we must have
done with all such things as arguments ; and all argu
mentation whatsoever, and all Tindal's argumentations in
particular, are absurd. He himself, throughout his whole
book, proceeds in that very method which this principle
explodes. He argues, and attempts to make evident, one
proposition, by another first established. — There are some
general propositions, the truth of which can be known only
by reason, from whence an infinite multitude of other pro
positions are inferred, and reasonably and justly determined
to be true, and rested in as such, on the ground of the
truth of that general proposition from which they are in
ferred by the common consent of all mankind, being led
thereto by the common and universal sense of the human

480

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I

mind. And yet not one of those propositions can be
known to be true by reason, if reason consider them by
themselves, independently of that general proposition.
Thus, for instance, what numberless truths are known
only by consequence from that general proposition, that
the testimony of our senses may be depended on ! The
truth of numberless particular propositions, cannot be
known by reason, considered independently of the testi
mony of our senses, and without an implicit faith in that
testimony. That general truth, that the testimony of our
memories is worthy of credit, can be proved only by rea
son ; and yet, what numberless truths are there, which we
know no other way, and cannot be known to be true by
reason, considering the truths in themselves, or any other
wise than by testimony of our memory, and an implicit
faith in this testimony ! That the agreed testimony of all
we see, and converse with continually, is to be credited, is
a general proposition, the truth of which can be known
only by reason. And yet, how infinitely numerous propo
sitions do men receive as truth, that cannot be known to
be true by reason, viewing them separately from such tes
timony ; even all occurrences, and matters of fact, persons,
things, actions, works, events, and circumstances, that we
are told of in our neighbourhood, in our own country, or
in any other part of the world that we have not seen our
selves !
§ 3. That the testimony of history and tradition is to be
depended on, when attended with such and such credible
circumstances, is a general proposition, whose truth can be
known only by reason. And yet, how numberless are the
particular truths concerning what has been before the pre
sent age, that cannot be known by reason, considered in
themselves, and separately from this testimony, which yet
are truths on which all mankind do, ever did, and ever
will rely ?
That the experience of mankind is to be depended on ;
or, that those things which the world finds to be true by
experience, are worthy to be judged true ; is a general
proposition, of which none doubt. By what the world
finds true by experience can be meant nothing else, than
what is known to be true by one or other of those foremen
tioned kinds of testimony, viz. the testimony of history
and tradition ; the testimony of those we see and converse
with ; the testimony of our memories ; and the testimony
of our senses. I say, all that is known by the expe
rience of mankind, is known only by one or more of
these testimonies ; excepting only the existence of that
idea, or those few ideas, which are at this moment pre
sent in our minds, or are the immediate objects of pre
sent consciousness. And yet, how unreasonable would
it be to say, that we must first know those things to
be true by reason, before we give credit to our experience
of the truth of them ? Not only are there innumerable
truths, that are reasonably received as following from
such general propositions as have been mentioned, which
cannot be known by reason, if they are considered by
themselves, or otherwise than as inferred from these gene
ral propositions ; but also, many truths are reasonably
received, and are received by the common consent of the
reason of all rational persons, as undoubted truths, whose
truth not only would not otherwise be discoverable by
reason, but when they are discovered by their consequence
from that general proposition, appear in themselves not
easy, and reconcilable to reason, but difficult, incom
prehensible, and their agreement with reason not under
stood. So that men, at least most men, are not able to
explain or conceive of the manner in which they are agree
able to reason.
§ 4. Thus, for instance, it is a truth, which depends on
that general proposition, that credit is to be given to the
testimony of our senses, that our souls and bodies are so
united, that they act on each other. But it is a truth which
reason otherwise cannot discover, and, now that it is re
vealed by the testimony of our senses, reason cannot com
prehend, that what is immaterial, and not solid nor
extended, can act upon matter. Or, if any choose to say,
that the soul is material, then other difficulties arise as
great. For reason cannot imagine any way, that a solid
mass of matter, whether at rest or in motion, should have
perception, should understand, and should exert thought

and volition, love, hatred, &c. And if it be said that spirit
acts on matter, and matter on spirit, by an established law
of the Creator, which is no other than a fixed method of
his producing effects ; still the manner how it is possible
to be, will be inconceivable. We can have no conception
of any way or manner, in which God, who is a pure Spirit,
can act upon matter, and impel it.
There are several things in mechanics and hydrostatics
that by the testimony of our senses are true in fact, not
only that reason never first discovered before the testimony
of sense declared them, but, now they are declared, are
very great paradoxes, and, if proposed, would seem con
trary to reason, at least to the reason of the generality of
mankind, and such as are not either mathematicians, or of
more than common penetration, and what they cannot re
concile to their reason. But God has given reason to the
common people, to be as much their guide and rule, as he
has to mathematicians and philosophers.
§ 5. Even the very existence of a sensible world, which
we receive for certain from the testimony of our senses, is
attended with difficulties and seeming inconsistencies with
reason, which are insuperable to the reason at least of most
men. For, if there be a sensible world, that world exists
either in the mind only, or out of the mind, independent
of its imagination or perception. If the latter, then that
sensible world is some material substance, altogether
diverse from the ideas we have by any of our senses — as
colour, or visible extension and figure, which is nothing but
the quantity of colour and its various limitation, which
are sensible qualities that we have by sight ; and solidity,
which is an idea we have by feeling ; and extension and
figure, which is only the quantity and limitation of these;
and so of all other qualities. — But that there should be
any substance entirely distinct from any or all of these, is
utterly inconceivable. For, if we exclude all colour, so
lidity, or conceivable extension, dimension, and figure,
what is there left, that we can conceive of? Is there not a
removal in our minds of all existence, and a perfect empti
ness of every thing ?
But if it be said, that the sensible world has no exist
ence, but only in the mind, then the sensories themselves,
or the organs of sense, by which sensible ideas are let into
the mind, have no existence but only in the mind ; and
those organs of sense have no existence, but what is con
veyed into the mind by themselves ; for they are a part of
the sensible world. And then it will follow, that the or
gans of sense owe their existence to the organs of sense,
and so are prior to themselves, being the causes or occa
sions of their own existence ; which is a seeming incon
sistence with reason, that, 1 imagine, the reason of all men
cannot explain and remove.
§ 6. There are innumerable propositions, that we rea
sonably receive from the testimony of experience, all
depending on the truth of that general proposition, " that
experience is to be relied on," (what is meant by experience
has been already explained,) that yet are altogether above
reason. They are paradoxes attended with such seeming
inconsistencies, that reason cannot clearly remove, nor fully
explain, the mystery.
By experience we know that there is such a thing as
thought, love, hatred, &c. But yet this is attended with
inexplicable difficulties. If there be such a thing as
thought and affection, where are they ? If they exist, they
exist in some place or no place. That they should exist,
and exist in no place, is above our comprehension. It
seems a contradiction, to say they exist, and yet exist no
where. And, if they exist in some place, then they are
not in other places, or in all places ; and therefore must be
confined, at one time, to one place, and that place must
have certain limits ; from whence it will follow, that
thought, love, &c. have some figure, either round, or
square, or triangular ; which seems quite disagreeable to
reason, and utterly inconsonant to the nature of such
things as thought and the affections of the mind.
§ 7. It is evident, by experience, that something now is.
But this proposition is attended with things that reason can
not comprehend, paradoxes that seem contrary to reason.
For, if something now is, then either something was from all
eternity ; or, something began to be, without any cause or
reason of its existence. The last seems wholly inconsist-

Chap. VII.

THE INSUFFICIENCY OF REASON, &c.

481

ent with natural sense : and the other, viz. That some
thing has been from all eternity, implies, that there has been
a duration past, which is without any beginning, which is
an infinite duration: which is perfectly inconceivable, and is
attended with difficulties that seem contrary to reason.
For we cannot conceive how an infinite duration can be
made greater, any more than how a line of infinite length
can be made longer. But yet we see that past duration
is continually added to. If there were a duration past
without beginning a thousand years ago, then that past in
finite duration has now a thousand years added to it : and
if so, it is greater than it was before by a thousand years ;
because the whole is greater than a part. Now the past
duration consists of two parts, viz. that which was before
the last thousand years, and that which is since. Thus
here are seeming contradictions involved in this supposi
tion of an infinite duration past.
And moreover, if something has been from eternity, it
is either— an endless succession of causes and effects, as
for instance, an endless succession of fathers and sons,
or something equivalent ; but the supposition is attended
with manifold apparent contradictions : or, there must
have been some eternal self-existent being, having the rea
sons of his existence within himself; or, he must have
existed from eternity without reason of his existence ; both
which are inconceivable. That a thing should exist from
eternity without any reason why it should be so, rather
than otherwise, is altogether inconceivable, and seems
quite repugnant to reason. And why a being should be
self-existent, and have the reason of his existence within
himself, seems also inconceivable, and never, as I appre
hend, has yet been explained. If there has been any thing
from eternity, then that past eternity is either an endless
duration of successive parts, as successive hours, minutes,
&c. or it is an eternal duration without succession. — The
latter seems repugnant to reason, and incompatible with
any faculty of understanding that we enjoy ; and the
other, an infinite number of successive parts, involves the
very same contradictions with the supposition of an eter
nal succession of fathers and sons.
That the world has existed from eternity without a cause
seems wholly inconsistent with reason. In the first place,
it is inconsistent with reason that it should exist without a
cause. For it is evident that it is not a thing, the nature
and manner of which is necessary in itself ; and therefore
it requires a cause or reason out of itself, why it is so, and
not otherwise. And in the next place, if it exists from
eternity, then succession has been from eternity ; which
involves the forementioned contradictions. But if it be
without a cause, and does not exist from eternity, then it
has been created out of nothing ; which is altogether in
conceivable, and what reason cannot show to be possible ;
and many of the greatest philosophers have supposed it
plainly inconsistent with reason. — Many other difficulties
might be mentioned as following from that proposition,
" that something now is," that are insuperable to rea
son. § 8. It is evident by experience that great evil, both
moral and natural, abounds in the world. It is manifest
that great injustice, violence, treachery, perfidiousness, and
extreme cruelty to the innocent, abound in the world ; as
well as innumerable extreme sufferings, issuing finally in
destruction and death, are general all over the world in all
ages. — But this could not otherwise have been known by
reason ; and even now is attended with difficulties which
the reason of many, yea, most, of the learned men and
greatest philosophers that have been in the world, have not
been able to surmount. That it should be so ordered or
permitted in a world absolutely and perfectly under the
care and government of an infinitely holy and good God,
discovers a seeming repugnancy to reason, that few, if any,
have been able fully to remove.
§ 9. That men are to be blamed or commended for their
good or evil voluntary actions, is a general proposition re
ceived with good reason, by the dictates of the natural,
common, and universal moral sense of mankind in all na
tions and ages : which moral sense is included in what
Tindal means by reason and the law of nature. And yet
many things attend this truth that appear difficulties and
seeming repugnancies to reason, which have proved alto-
vol. n. 2 I

gether insuperable to the reason of many of the greatest
and most learned men in the world.
§ 10. I observe further, that when any general proposi
tion is recommended to us as true, by" any testimony or
evidence, that considered by itself seems sufficient, without
contrary testimony or evidence to countervail it ; and diffi
culties attend that proposition ; if these difficulties are no
freater, and of no other sort, than what might reasonably
e expected to attend true propositions of that kind, then
these difficulties are not only no valid or sufficient ob
jection against that proposition, but they are no objection
at all.
Thus there are many things that I am told concerning
the effects of electricity, magnetism, &c. and many things
that are recorded in the philosophical transactions of the
Royal Society, which I have never seen, and are very mys
terious ; but being well attested, their mysteriousness is no
manner of objection against my belief of the accounts ;
because from what I have observed and do know, such a
mysteriousness is no other than is to be expected in a par
ticular exact observation of nature, and a critical tracing
of its operations. It is to be expected, that the farther it
is traced the more mysteries will appear. To apply this
to the case in hand : if the difficulties which attend that
which is recommended by good proof or testimony to our
reception, as a divine revelation, are no greater, nor of any
other nature, than such as, all things considered, might
reasonably be expected to attend a revelation of such a
sort, of things of such a nature, and given for such ends
and purposes, and under such circumstances ; these diffi
culties not only are not of weight sufficient to balance the
testimony or proof that recommends it, but they are of no
weight at all as objections against the revelation. They
are not reasonably to be looked upon as of the nature of
arguments against it ; but on the contrary, may, with good
reason, be looked upon as confirmations, and of the nature
of arguments in its favour.
§ 11. This is very evident, and the reason of it very
Elain. For certainly, whatever is reasonably expected to
e found in a truth when we are seeking it, cannot be an
objection against that truth, when we have found it. If
it be reasonably expected in truth beforehand, then rea
son unites it with truth as one property of that sort of
truth : and if so, then reason unites it with the truth after
it is found. Whatever reason determines to be a property
of any kind of truth, that is properly looked upon in some
degree as a mark of truths of that sort, or as belonging to
the marks and evidences of it ; for things are known bv
their properties. Reason determines truth by things which
reason determines to be the properties of truth. And if
we do not find such things belonging to supposed truth,
that were before reasonably expected in truth of that kind,
this is an objection against it, rather than the finding of
them. The disappointment of reason is rather an objec
tion with reason, than something to induce its acceptance
and acquiescence. If the expectation be reasonable, then
the not answering of it must so far appear unreason
able, or against reason, and so an objection in the way of
reason. Thus if any one that is in search for things of a certain
kind reasonably expects beforehand, that if he besuccess-
ful in finding the thing of the kind and quality that he is
in search of, he shall find it possessed of certain proper
ties ; when he hath actually found something with all
those properties and circumstances that he expected, he
receives it, and rests in it so much the more entirely, as
the very thing that he was in quest of. And surely it would
be no argument with him that his invention is right, that
some things that he reasonably expected are wanting ; but
on the contrary, this would rather be an objection with his
reason. § 12. In order to judge what sort of difficulties are to be
expected in a revelation made to mankind by God, such
as Christians suppose the Scriptures to be, we must re
member that it is a revelation of what God knows to be
the very truth concerning his own nature ; of the acts and
operations of his mind with respect to his creatures ; of
the grand scheme of infinite wisdom in his works, espe
cially with respect to the intelligent and moral world ; a
revelation of the spiritual and invisible world ; a revela-

482

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

tion of that invisible world which men shall belong to
after this life ; a revelation of the greatest works of God,
the manner of his creating the world, and of his govern
ing of it, especially with regard to the higher and more im
portant parts of it ; a revelation delivered in ancient lan
guages. Difficulties and incomprehensible mysteries are reason
ably to be expected in a declaration from God, of the
precise truth as he knows it, in matters of a spiritual na
ture ; as we see things that are invisible, and not the
objects of any of the external senses, are very mysterious,
involved much more in darkness, attended with more
mystery and difficulty to the understanding, than others ;
as many things concerning even the nature of our own
souls themselves, that are the nearest to us, and the most
intimately present with us, and so most in our view of any
spiritual things whatsoever.
The further things are from the nature of what language
is chiefly formed to express, viz. things appertaining to
the common business and vulgar affairs of life — things
obvious to sense and men's direct view and most vulgar
observation, without speculation, reflection, and abstrac
tion, the more difficult it is clearly to express them in words.
Our expressions concerning them, will be attended with
greater abstruseness, difficulty, and seeming inconsistence ;
language not being well fitted to express these things ;
words and phrases not being prepared for that end. Such
a reference to sensible and vulgar things, is unavoidably
introduced, that naturally confounds the mind, and in
volves it in darkness.
§ 13. If God gives a revelation of religious things, it
must be mainly concerning the affairs of the moral and
intelligent universe : which is the grand system of spirits :
it must be chiefly about himself and intelligent creatures.
It may well be supposed, that a revelation concerning
another and an invisible world, a future state that we are
to be in when separated from the body, should be attended
with much mystery. It may well be supposed, that the
things of such a world, are of an exceeding different nature
from the things of this world, the things of sense, and all
the objects and affairs which earthly language was made
to express ; and that they are not agreeable to such no
tions, imaginations, and ways of thinking that grow up
with us, and are connatural to us, as we are from our
infancy formed to an agreeableness to the things which we
are conversant with in this world. We could not conceive
of the things of sense, if we had never had these external
senses. And if we had only some of these senses and not
others ; as, for instance, if we had only a sense of feeling,
without the senses of seeing and hearing, how mysterious
would a declaration of things of these last senses be ! Or,
if we had feeling and hearing, but had been born without
eyes or optic nerves, the things of light, even when de
clared to us, w-ould many of them be involved in mystery,
and would appear exceedingly strange to us.
§ 14. Thus, persons without the sense of seeing, but
who had the other senses, might be informed by all about
them, that they can perceive things at a distance, and per
ceive as plainly, and in some respects more plainly, than
by touching them ; yea, that they could perceive things at
so great a distance, that it would take up many ages to
travel to them. They might be informed of many things
concerning colours, that would all be perfectly incompre
hensible, and yet might be believed ; and it could not be
said that nothing at all is proposed to their belief, because
they have no idea of colour.
They might be told that they perceive an extension, a
length and breadth of colour, and terminations and limits,
and so a figure of this kind of extension ; and yet, that it
is nothing that can be felt. This would be perfectly
mysterious to them, and would seem an inconsistence, as
they have no ideas of any such things as length, breadth,
and limits, and figure of extension, but only certain ideas
they have by touch. They might be informed, that they
could perceive at once the extent and shape of a thing so
great and multiform as a tree, without touch : this would
seem very strange and impossible. — They might be told
that, to those who see, some things appear a thousand
times as great as some others, which yet are made up of
more visible parts than tliose others : which would be

very mysterious, and seem quite inconsistent with reason. —
These, and many other things, would be attended with
unsearchable mystery to them, concerning objects of sight ;
and, concerning which, they could never fully see now
they can be reconciled to reason; at least, not without
very long, particular, gradual, and elaborate instruction ;
and which, after all, they would not fully comprehend, so
as clearly to see how the ideas connected in these pro
positions do agree. — And yet I suppose, in such a case,
the most rational persons would give full credit to things
that they know not by reason, but only by the revelation
of the word of those that see. I suppose, a person born
blind in the manner described, would nevertheless give
full credit to the united testimony of the seeing world, in
things which they said about light and colours, and would
entirely rest on their testimony.
§ 15. If God give us a revelation of the truth, not only
about spiritual beings, in an unseen state ; but also con
cerning a spiritual being or beings of a superior kind, (and
so of an unexperienced nature,) entirely diverse from any
thing we now experience in our present state — and from
any thing that we can be conscious of in any state whatso
ever — then, especially, may mysteries be expected in such
a revelation. The truth concerning any kind of percipient being, of
a different nature from our own, though of a kind inferior,
might well be supposed to be attended with difficulty, by
reason of its diversity from what we are conscious of in
ourselves ; but much more so, when the nature and kind
is superior. For a superior perceptive nature may well be
supposed, in some respects, to include and comprehend
what belongs to an inferior, as the greater comprehends the
less, and the whole includes a part ; and therefore, what
the superior experiences may give him advantage to con
ceive of concerning the nature of the inferior. But, on the
contrary, an inferior nature does not include what belongs
to a superior. When one of an inferior nature considers
what concerns beings of a nature entirely above his own,
there is something belonging to it that is over and above
all that the inferior nature is conscious of.
A very great superiority, even in beings of the same
nature with ourselves, sets them so much above our reach,'
that many of their affairs become incomprehensible, and
attended with inexplicable intricacies. Thus many of the
affairs of adult persons are incomprehensible, and appear
inexplicably strange, to the understandings of little chil
dren : and many of the affairs of learned men, and great
philosophers and mathematicians, things with which they
are conversant, and well acquainted, are far above the
reach of the vulgar, and appear to them not only unintel
ligible, but absurd and impossible, and full of incon
sistences. But much more may this be expected, when
the superiority is not only in the degree of improvement of
faculties and properties of the same kind of beings, but
also in the nature itself. So that if there be a kind of
creative perceptive beings in their nature vastly superior to
the human, which none will deny to be possible, and a
revelation should be given us concerning the nature, acts,
and operations of this kind of creatures ; it would be no
wonder, if such a revelation should contain some things
very much out of our reach, attended with great difficulty
to our reason, being things of such a kind, that no improve
ment of our minds, that we are capable of, will bring us
to an experience of any thing like them. But, above all,
if a revelation be made to us concerning that Being who is
uncreated and self-existent, who is infinitely diverse from
and above all others, in his nature, and so infinitely above
all that any advancement of our nature can give us any
consciousness of; in such a revelation, it would be very
strange indeed, if there should not be some great myste
ries, quite beyond our comprehension, and attended with
difficulties which it is impossible for us fully to solve and
explain. § 16. It may well be expected, that a revelation of truth,
concerning an infinite Being, should be attended with
mystery. We find that the reasonings and conclusions of
the best metaphysicians and mathematicians, concerning
infinites, are attended with paradoxes and seeming incon
sistences. Thus it is concerning infinite lines, surfaces,
and solids, which are things external. But much more

Chap. VII.

THE INSUFFICIENCY OF REASON, &c.

483

may this be expected in infinite spiritual things ; such as,
infinite thought, infinite apprehension, infinite reason, infi
nite will, love, and joy, infinite spiritual power, agency, &c.
Nothing is more certain, than that there must be an un
made and unlimited being ; and yet, the very notion of
such a being is all mystery, involving nothingbut incom
prehensible paradoxes, and seeming inconsistences. It
involves the notion of a being self-existent and without
any cause, which is utterly inconceivable, and seems re
pugnant to all our ways of conception. An infinite
spiritual being, or infinite understanding and will and
spiritual power, must be omnipresent, without extension ;
which is nothing but mystery and seeming inconsistence.
The notion of an infinite eternal, implies absolute im
mutability. That which is in all respects infinite, abso
lutely perfect to the utmost degree, and at all times, cannot
be in any respect variable. And this immutability being
constant from eternity, implies duration without succession,
and is wholly a mystery and seeming inconsistence. It
seems as much as to say, an infinitely great or long dura
tion all at once, or all in a moment; which seems to be
saying, an infinitely great in an infinitely little ; or an in
finitely long line in a point without any length.
§ 17. Infinite Understanding, which implies an under
standing of all things past, present, and future ; and of all
truth, and all reason, and argument, implies infinite thought
and reason. But how this can be absolutely without mu
tation, or succession of acts, seems mysterious and ab
surd. We can conceive of no such thing as thinking,
without successive acting of the mind about ideas. Per
fect knowledge of all things, even of all the things of
external sense, without any sensation, or any reception of
ideas from without, is an inconceivable mystery. Infinite
knowledge, implies a perfect comprehensive view of a
whole future eternity; which seems utterly impossible.
For how can there be any reaching of the whole of this, to
comprehend it, without reaching to the utmost limits of it?
But this cannot be, where there is no such thing as ut
most limits. And again, if God perfectly views an eternal
succession or chain of events, then he perfectly sees every
individual part of that chain, and there is no one link of it
hid from his sight. And yet there is no one link that has
not innumerable links beyond it ; from which it would
seem to follow, that there is a link beyond all the links that
he sees, and consequently, that there is one link, yea, in
numerable links, that he sees not ; inasmuch as there are
innumerable links beyond every one that he sees. And
many other such seeming contradictions might be men
tioned, which attend the supposition of God's omniscience.
If there be an absolute immutability in God, then there
never arises any new act in God, or new exertion of him
self; and yet there arise new effects : which seems an utter
inconsistence. And so innumerable other such like mys
teries and paradoxes are involved in the notion of an infinite
and eternal intelligent being. Insomuch, that if there had
never been any revelation, by which God had made known
himself by his word to mankind ; the most speculative
persons would, without doubt, have for ever been exceed
ingly at a loss concerning the nature of the Supreme Being
and First Cause of the universe. And that some of the
ancient philosophers and wiser heathens had so good no
tions of God as they had, seems to be much more owing
to tradition, which originated from divine revelation, than
from their own invention ; though human reason served to
keep those traditions alive in the world, and led the more
considerate to embrace and retain the imperfect traditions
which were to be found in any parts remaining, as they
appeared, when once suggested and delivered, agreeable to
reason. § 18. If a revelation be made of the principal scheme of
the supreme and infinitely wise Ruier, respecting his
moral kingdom, wherein his all-sufficient wisdom is dis
played, in the case of its greatest trial ; ordering and regu
lating the said moral kingdom to its great ends, when in
the most difficult circumstances ; extricating it out of the
most extreme calamities, in which it had been involved by
the malice and subtlety of the chief and most craftv of all
God's enemies, should we expect no mysteries? If it be
the principal of all the effects of the wisdom of Him, the
depth of whose wisdom is unsearchable and absolutely in-
2 I 2

finite ; his deepest scheme, by which mainly the grand de
sign ofthe universal, incomprehensibly complicated system
of all his operations, and the infinite series of his adminis
trations, is most happily, completely, and gloriously attain
ed ; the scheme in which God's wisdom is mainly exer
cised and displayed : it may reasonably be expected, that
such a revelation will contain many mysteries.
We see that to be the case, even as to many works of
human wisdom and art. They appear strange, paradoxical,
and incomprehensible, by those that are vastly inferior in
sagacity, or are entirely destitute of that skill or art. How
are many of the effects of human art attended with many
things that appear strange and altogether incomprehensible
by children, and many others seeming to be beyond and
against nature ; and, in many cases, the effect produced
not only seems to be beyond the power of any visible
means, but inconsistent with it, being an effect contrary to
what would be expected : the means seem inconsistent
with the end.
§ 19. If God reveal the exact truth in those things which,
in the language of the heathen sages, are matters of philoso
phy, especially things concerning the nature ofthe Deity,
and the nature of man as related to the Deity, &c. it may
most reasonably be expected, that such a revelation should
contain many mysteries and paradoxes, considering how
many mysteries the doctrines of the greatest and best
philosophers, in all ages, concerning these things, have con
tained ; or, at least, how very mysterious, and seemingly
repugnant, they are to the reason of the vulgar, and persons
of less understanding ; and considering how mysterious
the principles of philosophers, even concerning matters far
inferior to these, would have appeared in any former age,
if they had been revealed to be true, which however are
now received as the most undoubted truths.
If God gives mankind his word in a large book, con
sisting of a vast variety of parts, many books, histories,
prophecies, prayers, songs, parables, proverbs, doctrines,
promises, sermons, epistles, and discourses of very many
kinds, all connected together, all united in one grand drift
and design ; and one part having a various and manifold
respect to others ; so as to become one great work of God,
and one grand system ; as is the system of the universe,
with its vast variety of parts, connected in one grand work
of God : it may well be expected that there should be
mysteries, things incomprehensible and exceeding difficult
to our understanding ; analogous to the mysteries that are
found in all the other works of God, as the works of creation
and providence ; and particularly such as are analogous to
the mysteries that are observable in the system of the na
tural world, and the frame of man's own nature.
§ 20. If it be still objected, that it is peculiarly un
reasonable that mysteries should be supposed in a revela
tion given to mankind ; because, if there be such a reve
lation, the direct and principal design of it must be, to
teach mankind, and to inform their understandings, which
is inconsistent with its delivering things to man which he
cannot understand ; and which do not inform, but only
puzzle and confound his understanding: I answer,
1st, Men are capable of understanding as much as is
pretended to be revealed ; though they cannot understand
all that belongs to the things revealed. For instance, God
may reveal, that there are three who have the same nature
ofthe Deity, whom it is most proper for us to look upon
as three persons; though the particular manner of their
distinction, or how they differ, may not be revealed. He
may reveal that the Godhead was united to man, so as to
be properly looked upon as the same person ; and yet not
reveal how it was effected.
2_, No allowance is made in the objection, for what may
be understood of the word of God in future ages, which is
not now understood. And it is to be considered, that
divine revelation is not given only for the present or past
ages. 3d, The seeming force of this objection, lies wholly in
this, that we must suppose whatever God does, tends to
answer the end for which he does it ; but that those parts of
a revelation which we cannot understand, do not answer
Ihe end, inasmuch as informing our understandings is the
very end of a revelation, if there be any such thing.
§ 21. But this objection is no other, than just equiva-

484

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

lent to an objection which mav be made against many parts
of the creation, particularly of this lower world. It is ap
parent, the most direct and principal end of this lower
world was, to be for the habitation, use, and benefit of
mankind, the head of this lower world. But there are some
parts of it that seem to be of no use to man, but are rather
inconvenient and prejudicial to him ; as, the innumerable
stones and rocks that overspread so great a part of the
earth, which, as to any thing known, are altogether useless,
and oftentimes are rather an inconvenience than benefit.
Thus, it is reasonable to expect, that, in such a revela
tion, there should be many things plain and easy to be
understood ; and that the revelation should be most intel
ligible, wherein it is most necessary for us to understand
it, in order to our guidance and direction in the way to
our happiness ; but that there should also be many in
comprehensible mysteries in it, many things understood
in part, but yet that room should be left for vast improve
ment in the knowledge of them, to the end of the world.
It is reasonable to expect, that the case should actually be
the same as concerning the works of nature ; that many
things which were formerly great and insuperable difficul
ties, unintelligible mysteries, should now, by further study
and improvement, be well cleared up, and cease longer to
remain difficulties ; and that other difficulties should be
considerably diminished, though not yet fully cleared
up It may be expected that, as in the system of nature so
in the system of revelation, there should be many parts
whose use is but little understood, and many that should
seem wholly useless, yea, and some that should seem
rather to do hurt than good. I might further observe, that
if we have a revelation given in ancient languages, used
among a people whose customs and phraseology are but
very imperfectly understood, many difficulties will arise
from hence. And, in a very concise history, in which only
some particular facts and circumstances that concern the
special purposes of that revelation, are mentioned — and
innumerable others are omitted that would be proper to be
mentioned, if the main design were to give a full, clear,
connected, continued history of such a people, or such
affairs as the history mentions — it is no wonder that many
doubts and difficulties arise.
§ 22. Tindal's main argument against the need of any
revelation, is, that the law qf nature is absolutely perfect.
But how weak and impertinent is this arguing, that because
the law qf nature (which is no other than natural rectitude
and obligation) is perfect, therefore the light qf nature is
sufficient. To say, that the law of nature is perfect, yea,
absolutely perfect, is no more than to say, that what is
naturally fit and -right in itself, is indeed right ; and that
what is in itself, or in its own nature, perfectly and abso
lutely right, is absolutely right. But this is an empty,
insipid kind of doctrine. It is an idle way of spending
time, ink, and paper, to spend them in proving, that what
is in its own nature perfectly true, is perfectly true ; and
what is in its nature perfectly good, is perfectly good ; or
that what is, is, and is as it is. But this is all that can be
meant by the law of nature being perfect.
And how far is this from having any reference to that
question, whether we have by mere nature, without in
struction, all that light and advantage that we need, clearly
and fully to know what is right, and all that is needful for
us to be and to do, in our circumstances as sinners, &c.
in order to the forgiveness of sin, the favour of God, and
our own happiness ! What, according to the nature of
things, is fittest and best, may be most perfect ; and yet
our natural knowledge of this may be most imperfect.
If Tindal, or any other deist, would assert, and urge it
upon mankind as an assertion that they ought to believe,
that the light of nature is so sufficient to teach all mankind
what thev ought, or in any respect need, to be, and to be
lieve and practise for their good, that any additional in
struction is needless and useless : then, all instruction in
families and schools is needless and useless ; all instruc
tion of parents, tutors, and philosophers; all that has
been said to promote any such knowledge as tends to
make men good and happy by word of mouth, or by
writing and books ; all that is written by ancient and
modern philosophers and learned men. And then, also,

all the pains the deists take in talking and writing to en
lighten mankind, is wholly needless and vain.
§ 23. When it is asserted that the light of nature, or
the means and advantages which all mankind have by
pure nature, to know the way of their duty and happiness,
are absolutely sufficient, without any additional means
and advantages ; one of these two things must be meant
by it, if it has any meaning : either that they are sufficient
in order to a mere possibility of obtaining all needful and
useful knowledge in these important concerns; or that
these natural means have a sufficient tendency actually to
reach the effect, either universally, or generally, or at least
in a prevailing degree, according as tlie state of mankind
mav be.
If the former of these be meant, viz. that the means of
understanding these things, which all mankind have by
mere nature, is sufficient, in order to a bare possibility of
obtaining this knowledge ; even that, should it be allowed,
will not at all prove, that farther light is not extremely
needed by mankind. A bare possibility may be ; and yet
there may be no tendency or probability that ever the effect
(however necessary, and however dreadful the consequence
of its failing) will be reached, in one single instance, in
the whole world of mankind, from the beginning of the
world to the end of it, though it should stand millions of
ages. But if by the sufficiency of these natural means be
meant, a sufficiency of tendency actually to reach the effect
— either universally, or in a prevailing degree, considering
all things belonging to the state and circumstances of
mankind — it is the very same thing as to say, that it ac
tually does obtain the effect. For if the tendency, all
things considered, be sufficient actually to obtain the effect,
doubtless it does actually obtain it. For what should
hinder a cause from actually obtaining the effect that it
has a sufficient tendency to obtain, all things considered ?
So that here, what we have to inquire, is, whether that
effect be actually obtained in the worid ? whether the
world of mankind be actually brought to all necessary or
very important knowledge of these things, merely by the
means they have by nature ? History, observation, and ex
perience, are the things which must determine the question.
§ 24. In order the more clearly to judge of this matter,
of the sufficiency of the light of nature to know what is
necessary to be known of religion in order to man's hap
piness, we must consider what are the things that must he
known in order to this ; which are these two : 1st, The
religion of nature, or the religion proper and needful, con
sidering the state and relations we stand in as creatures :
2d, The religion of a sinner, or the religion and duties
proper and necessary for us, considering our state as de
praved and guilty creatures, having incurred the displea
sure of our Creator.
As to the former, it is manifest from fact, that nature
alone is not sufficient for the discovery of the religion of
nature, in the latter sense of sufficiency : that is, no
means we have by mere nature, without instruction, bring
men to the knowledge of the nature of God, and our
natural relation to and dependence on him, and the con
sequent relations we stand in to our fellow-creatures, and
the duties becoming these relations, sufficient actually to
reach the effect, either universally, or generally, or in any
prevailing degree. No ; nor does it appear to haveproved
sufficient so much as in a single instance. A sufficiency
to see the reasonableness of these things, when pointed
out, is not the same thing as a sufficiency to find them
out. None but either mere dunces, or those who are in
corrigibly wilful, will deny that there is a vast difference.
And as to the latter, viz. the religion of a sinner, or the
duties proper and necessary for us as depraved, guiity, and
offending creatures ; it is most evident, the light of nature
cannot be sufficient for our information, by any means, or
in any sense whatsoever. No, nor is the law of nature
sufficient either to prescribe or establish this religion. The
light of nature is, in no sense whatsoever, sufficient to
discover this religion. It has no sufficient tendency to it;
nor, indeed, any tendency at all to discover it to any one
single person in any age. And it not only has no tendency
to the obtaining of this knowledge, by mere natural means,
but it affords no possibility of it. — Not only is the light

Chap. VIII.

MEDIUM OF MORAL GOVERNMENT.

485

of nature insufficient to discover this religion, but the law
of nature is not sufficient to establish it, or to give any
room for it.

CHAP. VIII.
On the medium qf moral government — particularly conver
sation.
§ 1. By conversation, I mean intelligent beings ex
pressing their minds one to another, in words, or other signs
intentionally directed to us for our notice, whose immediate
and main design is to be significations of the mind of
him who gives them. Those signs are evidences distin
guished from works done by any, from which we may
argue their minds. The first and most immediate design
of the work, is something else than a mere signification to
us of the mind of the efficient. Thus, I distinguish God's
communicating his mind to us by word or conversation,
from his giving us opportunity to learn it by philosophical
reasoning ; or by God's works which we observe in the
natural world.
§ 2. There is a great difference between God's moral
government of his creatures, that have understanding and
will, and his general government of providential disposal.
— The nature, design, and ends of the latter, by no means
require that it should be declared and made visible by a
revelation of the methods, rules, particular views, designs,
and ends of it : these are secret things that belong to God ;
in which men's understandings and wills are no way con
cerned. There is no application to these faculties in it;
nor are these faculties any otherwise concerned, than the
qualities or properties of inanimate and senseless things.
But it is quite otherwise with respect to God's moral
government of a kingdom or society of intelligent and
willing creature's; to which society he is united as its
head, ruling for its good. The nature of that requires, that
it should be declared, open, and visible. How can any
moral government be properly and sufficiently established
and maintained in a kingdom of intelligent agents, con
sisting in exhibiting, prescribing, and enforcing methods,
rules, and ends of their own intelligent voluntary actions,
without declaring, and particularly promulgating to their
understandings, those methods, rules, and enforcements ?
The moral government of a society, in the very nature of
it, implies, and consists in, an application to their under
standings, in directing the intelligent will, and in enforcing
the direction by the declaration made.
§ 3. It is needful, in order to a proper moral government,
that the ruler should enforce the rules of the society, by
threatening just punishments, and promising the most
suitable and wise rewards. But, without word or volun
tary declaration, there is no threatening or promising in
the case, in a proper sense. To leave the subject to find
out what reward would be wise, if there appear in the
state of things room for every subject to guess at it in
some degree, would be a different thing from promising it.
And to leave men to their own reason, to find out what
would be a just, deserved, and, all things considered, a
wise punishment, though we should suppose some suffi
ciency in every one's reason for this, wouid be a different
thing from threatening of it.
It is needful in a moral kingdom, not in a ruined and
deserted state — the union between the head and members
remaining — that there should be conversation between the
governors and governed. It is requisite that the former
should have intercourse with the latter in away agreeable
to their nature ; that is, by way of voluntary signification
of their mind to the governed, as the goyerned signify their
minds voluntarily one to another. There should be
something equivalent to conversation between the rulers
and ruled ; and thus the rulers should make themselves
visible. The designs and ends of government should be
made known ; it should be visible what is aimed at, and
what grand ends or events are in view, and the mind of
the rulers should be declared as to the rules, measures,
and methods, to be observed by the society. If the rulers
are sovereign, absolute disposers, it is necessary their will
should be particularly declared, as to the good and evil

consequence of obedience or disobedience, which they in
tend as moral enforcements of the rules and laws, to per
suade the will to a compliance. For they can reach the
will, or affect it at all, no further than they are made
known. — It is requisite something should be known, par
ticularly, of the nature, weight, and degree of the rewards
and punishments, and of their time, place, and dura
tion. § 4. Thus, it is requisite that it should be declared what
is the end for which God has made us, and made the
world ; supports it, provides for it, and orders its events.
For what end mankind are made in particular ; what is
intended to be their main employment ; what they should
chiefly aim at in what they do in the world : how far God,
the Creator, is man's end ; and what man is to aim at with
respect to God, who stands in no need of us, and cannot be
in the least dependent on us : how far, and in what respect,
we are to make God our highest end ; and how we are to
make ourselves, or our fellow-creatures,our end: what bene
fits man will have by complying with his end ; what evils he
shall be subject to by refusing, or failing so to comply, in
a greater or lesser degree. If we have offended, and de
served punishment, it must be known on what terms (if at
all) we may be forgiven and restored to favour ; and what
benefits we shall receive, if we are reconciled.
It is apparent, that there would be no hope that these
things would ever be determined among mankind, in their
present darkness and disadvantages, without a revelation.
Without a revelation — now extant, or once extant, having
some remaining influence by tradition — men would un
doubtedly for ever be at a loss, what God expects from us,
and what we may expect from him ; what we are to de
pend upon as to our concern with God, and what ground we
are to go upon in our conduct and proceedings that relate
to him ; what end we are to aim at ; what rule we are to
be directed by ; and what good, and what harm, is to be
expected from a right or wrong conduct. Yea, without a
revelation, men would be greatly at a loss concerning God;
what he is ; what manner of being ; whether properly
intelligent and willing ; a being that has will and design,
maintaining a proper, intelligent, voluntary dominion over
the world. Notions of the first being, like those of
Hobbes and Spinosa, would prevail. Especially would
they be at a loss concerning those perfections of God,
which he exercises as a morai governor. For we find that
some of the deists, though they, from revelation, have been
taught these ; yet, having cast off revelation, apparently
doubt of them all. Lord Bolingbroke, in particular, insists
that we have no evidence of them.
§ 5. And though, with regard to manv, when they have
a revelation fully setting forth the perfections of God —
giving a rational account of them, and pointing forth their
consistence — their reason may rest satisfied in them ; this
is no evidence that it is not exceeding needful that God
should tell us of them. It is very needful that God should
declare to mankind what manner of being he is. For,
though reason may be sufficient to confirm such a de
claration after it is given, and enable us to see its consist
ence, harmony, and rationality, in many respects ; yet
reason may be utterly insufficient first to discover these
things. Yea, notwithstanding the clear and infinitely abundant
evidences of his being, we need that God should tell us
that there is a great being, who understands, who wills, and
who has made and governs the world. It is of unspeak
able advantage, as to the knorvledge of this, that God has
told us of it ; and there is much "reason to think, that the
notion mankind in general have entertained in all ages
concerning a Deity, has been very much originally owing
to revelation.
On the supposition, that God has a moral kingdom in
the world, that he is the head of a moral society, consist
ing either of some part of mankind, or of the whole ; in
what darkness must the affairs of this moral kingdom be
carried on, without a communication between the head
and the body; the ruler never making himself known to
the society by any word, or other equivalent expression
whatsoever, either by himself, or by any mediators, or
messengers !
§ 6. So far as we see, all moral agents are conversible

486

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

agents. It seems to be agreeable to the nature of moral
agents, and their state in the universal system, that we ob
serve none without it ; and there are no beings that have
even the semblance of intelligence and will, but possess
the faculty of conversation ; as in all kinds of birds, beasts,
and even insects. So far as there is any appearance of
something like a mind, so far they give significations of their
minds one to another, in something like conversation
among rational creatures. And, as we rise higher in the
scale of beings, we do not see that an increase of perfec
tion diminishes the need or propriety of communication
and intercourse of this kind, but augments it. And ac
cordingly, we see most of it among the most perfect beings.
So we see conversation by voluntary immediate significa
tions of each other's minds, more fully, properly, and va
riously, between mankind, than any other animals here
below. And if there are creatures superior to mankind
united in society, doubtless still voluntary converse is more
full and perfect.
Especially do we find conversation proper and requisite
between intelligent creatures concerning moral affairs,
which are most important ; affairs wherein especially moral
agents are concerned, as joined in society, and having
union and communion one with another. As to other
concerns that are merely personal and natural, wherein we
are concerned more separately, and by ourselves, and not
as members of society, in them there is not equal need of
conversation. § 7. Moral agents are social agents ; affairs of morality
are affairs of society. It is concerning moral agents as
united in society in a commonwealth or kingdom, that we
have been speaking. Particular moral agents so united,
need conversation. The affairs of their social union cannot
well be maintained without conversation. And if so, what
reason can be given, why there should be no need of con
versation with the head of the society ? The head of the
society, so far as it is united with it on a moral ground, is
a social head. The head belongs to the society, as the
natural head belongs to the body. And the union of the
members with the head is greater, stricter, and more im
portant, than one with another. And if their union with
other members of the society require conversation, much
more their greater union with the head. By all that we
see and experience, the moral world, and the conversible
world, are the same thing ; and it never was intended, that
the affairs of society, in any that are united in society
among intelligent creatures, should be upheld and carried
on without conversation.
There is no more reason to deny God any conversation
with his moral kingdom, in giving laws, and enforcing
them with promises and threatenings, than to deny him
any conversation with them in another world, when judg
ing them. But, can any that believe a future state,
rationally imagine, that when men go into another world
to be judged by their Supreme Governor, nothing will pass
or be effected through the immediate interposition of the
Judge, but all things be left wholly to go on according to
laws of nature established from the beginning of the
world ; and that souls pass into another state by a law of
nature, as a stone, when shaken off from a building, falls
down by gravity, without any miraculous signification
from God ? But there is as much reason to suppose this,
as to deny any miraculous interposition in giving and
establishing the laws of the moral society. If judgment
and execution by law, be by immediate interposition and
declaration, why not legislation ?
§ 8. The ground of moral behaviour, and all moral
government and regulation, is society, or mutual inter
course and social regards. The special medium of union
and communication of the members of the society, and
the being of society as such, is conversation ; and the
well-being and happiness of society is friendship. It is
the highest happiness of all moral agents ; but friendship,
above all other things that belong to society, requires con
versation. It is what friendship most naturally and
directly desires. By conversation, not only is friendship
maintained and nourished, but the felicity of friendship is
tasted and enjoyed. The happiness of God's moral king
dom consists, in an inferior degree, in the members' enjoy
ment of each other's friendship ; but infinitely more in the

enjoyment of their Head. Therefore, here especially, and
above all, is conversation requisite.
§ 9. Conversation between God and mankind in this
world, is maintained by God's word on his part, and by
prayer on ours. By the former, he speaks and expresses
his mind to us ; by the latter, we speak and express our
minds lo him. Sincere friendship towards God, in all
who believe him to be properly an intelligent, willing
being, does most apparently, directly, and strongly incline
to prayer ; and it no less disposes the heart strongly to
desire to have our infinitely glorious and gracious Friend
expressing his mind to us by his word, that we may know
it. The same light which has directed the nations of the
world in general to prayer, has directed them to suppose,
that God, or the gods, have revealed themselves to men.
And we see, that the same infidelity that disposes men to
deny any divine revelation, disposes them to reject as
absurd the duty of prayer.
§ 10. If God's moral kingdom, or the society of his
friends and willing subjects, shall be in a most happy
stale in another world— in the most complete friendship,
and in perfect union with God their Head, as some of the
deists pretend to believe — is it reasonable to suppose any
other, than that they will fully enjoy the sweets of their
friendship one with another, in the most perfect conversa
tion, either by words, or some more perfect medium of
expressing their minds ? And shall they have, at the same
time, no conversation at all with their glorious Head, the
fountain of all the perfection and felicity of the society, in
friendship with whom their happiness chiefly consists ?
That friendship, and the happiness they have in it, is
begun in this world ; and this is the state wherein they
are trained up for that more perfect state : and shall thev
nevertheless live here wholly without any intercourse with
God of this sort ; though their union with him, as their moral
Head, and their great Friend, begins here ; and though
their happiness, as consisting in friendship to him, and
also the enjoyment of that subordinate happiness of hold
ing a virtuous and holy conversation one with another, be
begun here ? The need of conversation in order properly
to support and carry on the concerns of society, may well
appear, by considering the need of it for answering all the
purposes of friendship, which is one ofthe main concerns
of society, in some respects the main social concern, and
the end of all the rest.
Let us suppose, that some friend, above all others dear
to us, in whose friendship consisted the main comfort of
our life, should leave us in possession of something he had
contrived and accomplished, some manifold complicated
effect that he had produced which we might have always
in our view. Suppose also that this work should be a
very great and manifold evidence of the excellencies of
our friend's mind, of his great, fixed, and firm benevolence
to us ; and that he should withdraw for ever, and never
have any conversation with us ; that no word should ever
pass, or any thing of that nature ; and that no word
should be left behind in writing, nor any word ever spoken
left in the memory : would this sufficiently and com
pletely answer the purposes of this great friendship, and
satisfy its ends and desires, or be a proper support of this
great end of society ? I cannot but think, every sober,
considerate person will at once determine, that it would
be very far from it, for such reasons as these,— that it
would not give us those views of things, pertaining to ihe
support and enjoyment of friendship, suitable to the nature
of intelligent, volitive, and conversible beings ; not giving
the direct and immediate view, nor at all tending, in so
great a degree and so agreeable a manner, to affect and
impress the mind. And as, for these reasons, this alone
would not answer the ends and purposes of society in this
respect ; so, for the same reasons, it would not answer
other purposes of society.
§ 11. As we may suppose, that God will govern man
kind in that moral kingdom which he hath mercifully set
up among them, in a manner agreeable to their na
ture ; so, it is reasonable to suppose, that he would make
his moral government, with respect to them, visible, not
only in declaring the general ends, methods, and rules of
his government, but also by making known the chief of
his more particular aims and designs. As, in human

Chap. VIII.

MEDIUM OF MORAL GOVERNMENT.

487

kingdoms, in order to the wisdom, righteousness, and good
ness of the administration being properly visible — so far
as is requisite for encouraging and animating of the subject,
and in order to the suitable convenience, satisfaction, and
benefit of the whole society of intelligent agents — it is
needful, not only that the general end, viz. the public
good, should be known, but also, the particular design of
many of the principal parts of the administration, among
which we may reckon the main negotiations, treaties, and
changes of affairs, the cause and end of wars engaged in,
the ground of treaties of peace and commerce, the design
of general revolutions in the state of the kingdom, &c.
Otherwise the society is not governed in a manner becom
ing their rational and active nature ; but affairs are carried
on in the dark, and the members have no opportunity to
consent or concur, to approve or disapprove, to rejoice in
the goodness, wisdom, and benefit of the administration,
and to pay proper regards to those in whose hands the go
vernment is, &c. These things are necessary for the
establishment and confirmation of the government. God's
moral government over his moral kingdom on earth, can
not, in such like respects, be carried on in a visible man
ner, and in a way suitable to our nature, without divine
history and prophecy. Without divine history, we cannot
properly see the grounds and foundation of divine admin
istrations, the first formation or erection of God's moral
kingdom, the nature and manner of the main revolutions
to which it has been subject, which are the ground of
future designs, and to which future events and intended
revolutions have a relation. It is also necessary, that those
past events should be known, in order that the reason,
wisdom, and benefit of the present state of the kingdom,
and of God's present dispensations towards it, may be
known. And prophecy is rteedfyl to reveal the future de
signs and aims of government, and what good things are
to be expected. 1
These things are necessary, in order to the proper esta
blishment, health, and prosperity, of God's moral, intelli
gent kingdom. Without them, the government of an
infinitely wise and good Head, is not sensible. There is
no opportunity to see the effects and success of the ad
ministration. There is no opportunity to find it by
experience. Neither the designs of government, nor
the accomplishment of those designs, are sensible ; and
the government itself, with respect to fact, is not made
visible. § 12. If it be said, that reason, and the light of nature,
without revelation, are sufficient to show us, that the end
of God's government, in his moral kingdom, must be, to
promote these two things among mankind, viz. their virtue,
and their happiness :
In reply, I would ask, What satisfaction can men with
out revelation have, with respect to the design, wisdom,
and success of God's government, as to these ends, when
wickedness so generally prevails and reigns, through all
ages hitherto, in the far greatest part of the world ; and
the world, at all times, is so full of calamities, miseries, and
death, having no prophecies of a better state of things in
which all is to issue at last, in the latter ages of the world ;
or assuring us that all these miserable changes and great
confusion are guided by Infinite Wisdom to that great final
issue, and without any revelation of a future state of hap
piness to the city of God in another world ?
§ 13. Object. God does maintain a moral government
over all mankind ; but we see, in fact, that many are not
governed by revelation, since the greater part of the world
have been destitute of divine revelation : which shows
that God does not look upon conversation as necessary in
order to his moral governmentof mankind, as God judges
for himself, and acts according to his own judgment.
.Ans. 1. What I have been speaking of, is God's moral
government over a society of moral agents, which are his
kingdom, or a society that have God for their King,
united to them as the Head of the society, as it is with
earthly kings with respect to their own kingdoms, where
the union between king and subjects is not broken and
dissolved ; and not of a society or country of rebels, who
have forsaken their lawful sovereign, withdrawn themselves
from subjection to him, and cast off his government :
though they may still be under the king's power, and

moral dominion, in some sense, as he may have it in his
power and design, to conquer, subdue, judge, and punish
them for their rebellion. But yet the sense in which such
a nation is under the moral government of this king, and
may be said to be his kingdom or people, is surely ex
tremely diverse from that of a kingdom remaining in union
with their king. In the case of a people broken off from
their king, the maintaining of intercourse by conversation
is in no wise in like manner requisite. The reason for
such intercourse, which take place in the other case, do not
take place in this.
In this case, society ceases ; i. e. that union ceases be
tween God and man, by which they should be of one so
ciety. And where society ceases, there the argument for
conversation ceases. If a particular member of the so
ciety were wholly cut off, and ceases to be ofthe society —
the union being entirely broken — the argument for con
versation, the great medium of social concerns, ceases. So,
if the body be cut off from the head, or be entirely dis
united from it, intercourse ceases. Moral government in
a society is a social affair ; wherein consists the intercourse
between superior and inferior constituents, between that
which is original, and that which is dependent, directing
and directed in the society. It is proper, in this case, that
the rebel people should have sufficient means of knowing
the end of their rebellion, and that it is their duty to be
subject to their king, to seek reconciliation with him, and
to inquire after his will. But while they remain obstinate
in their rebellion, and the king has not received them into
favour, the state of things does not require that he should
particularly declare his intentions with respect to them, or
should open to them the designs and methods of his ad
ministration. It is not necessary that he should publish
among them the way and terms of reconciliation ; make
revelations of his goodness and wisdom, and the great be
nefits of his government; converse with them as their
friend, and so open the way for their being happy in so
great a friend ; or that he should so particularly and im
mediately publish among them particular statutes and
rules for their good, as a society of moral agents, kc.
Conversation, in this sense, when there is an utter breach
of the union, is not to be expected, nor is it requisite,
though judging and condemning may.
Ans. 2. So far as the union between God and the hea
then world has not been utterly broken, so far they
have not been left utterly destitute of all benefit of divine
revelation. They are not so entirely and absolutely cast
off, but that there is a possibility of their being reconciled ;
and God has so ordered the case, that there is an equal
possibility of their receiving the benefit of divine reve
lation. If the heathen world, or any parts of it, have not only
enjoyed a mere possibility of being restored to favour, but
have had some advantages for it ; so, a great part, yea,
mostly the greater part, of the heathen world have not
been left merely to the light of nature. They have had
many things, especially in the times of the Old Testament,
that were delivered to mankind in the primitive ages of the
world by revelation, handed down from their ancestors by
tradition ; and many things borrowed from the Jews.
And, during those ages, by many wonderful dispensations
towards the Jews — wherein God did, in a most public and
striking manner, display himself, and show his hand — the
world had, from time to time, notices sufficient to convince
them, that there was a divine revelation extant, and suffi
cient to induce them to seek after it. And things suffi
cient to make revelation public, to spread it abroad — to
extend the frame of it and its effects to the utmost end of
the earth, and to draw men's attention to it — have been
vastly more and greater in later times, than in the primi
tive ages.
Ans. 3. The nations that are separated from the true
God, and live in an open and obstinate full rejection of
him as their supreme moral Governor., reject all friendly
intercourse while their state is such. They are open ene
mies ; and, so far as God treats them as such, he does not
exercise any friendly moral government over them. And
they have light sufficient, without revelation, for any other
exercise of moral government and intercourse, besides
those that are friendly, viz. in judging and condemning

488

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

them. They have light sufficient for that judgment and
condemnation, of which they shall be the subjects. For
their condemnation shall proceed no farther, than propor
tioned to their light. They shall be condemned for the
violation of the law of nature and nations ; and the degree
of their condemnation shall be only answerable to the
degree of the means and advantages they have had for in
formation of the duties of this law, and of their obliga
tions to perform them.
Ans. 4. What has appeared in those parts of the world
which have been destitute of revelation, is so far from
being any evidence that revelation is not necessary, that in
those nations and ages which have been most destitute of
revelation, the necessity of it has most evidently and re
markably appeared, by the extreme blindness and delusion
which have prevailed and reigned, without any remedy, or
any ability in those nations to extricate themselves from
their darkness.
§ 14. I think, a little sober reflection on those opinions
which appear among the deists, weighing them together
with the nature of things, may convince us, that a general
renunciation of divine revelation, after nations have en
joyed it, would soon bring those nations to be more absurd,
brutish, and monstrous in their notions and practices, than
the heathens were before the gospel came among them.
For, (1.) Those nations had many things among them de
rived originally from revelation, by tradition from their
ancestors, the ancient founders of nations, or from the
Jews, which led them to embrace many truths contained
in the Scripture ; and they valued such tradition. It was
not, in general, their humour to despise such an original of
doctrines, or to contemn them because they had their first
foundation in divine revelation, but they valued them the
more highly on this account; and had no notion of setting
them aside, in order to the drawing of every thing from
the fountain of their own reason. By this means, they
had a great deal more of truth in matters of religion and
morality, than ever human reason would have discovered
without helps. But now, the humour of the deists is, to
reject every thing that they have had from supposed reve
lation, or any tradition whatsoever, and to receive nothing
but what they can clearly see, and demonstrate from the
fountain of their own unassisted reason. (2.) The hea
thens, by tradition, received and believed many great truths,
of vast importance, that were incomprehensible ; and it
was no objection with them against receiving them, that
they were above their comprehension. But now, it is a
maxim with the freethinkers, that nothing is to be believed
but what can be comprehended ; and this leads them to
reject all the principles of natural religion (as it is called)
as well as revealed. For there is nothing pertaining to any
doctrine of natural religion, not any perfection of God, no,
nor his very existence from eternity, without many things
attending it that are incomprehensible. (3.) The heathens
of old, in their reasonings, did not proceed in that exceed
ing haughtiness and dependence on their own mere singular
understanding, disdaining all dependence on teaching, as
our deists do ; which tends to lead one to reject almost all
important truths, out of an affectation of thinking freely,
independently, and singularly. Some of the heathens pro
fessed their great need of teaching, and of divine teaching.
(4.) The heathens did not proceed with that enmity against
moral and divine truth, not having been so irritated by it.
They were willing to pick up some scraps of this truth
which came from revelation, which our deists reject all
in the lump.
§ 15. If we suppose that God never speaks to, or con
verses at all with, mankind, and has never, from the begin
ning of the world, said any thing to them, but has per
fectly let them alone as to any voluntary, immediate, and
direct signification of his mind to them, in any respect
teaching, commanding, promising, threatening, counselling
or answering them ; such a notion, if established, would
tend exceedingly to atheism. It would naturally tend to
the supposition, that there is no being that made and
governs the world. And if it should nevertheless be sup
posed, that there is some being who is, in some respect,
the original of all other beings ; yet, this notion would
naturally lead to doubt of his being properly an intelligent,
volitive being ; and to doubt of all duties to him imply

ing intercourse, such as prayer, praise, or any address to
him, external or internal, or any respect to him at all
analogous to that which we exercise towards rulers or
friends, or any intelligent beings we here see and know;
and so it would tend to overthrow every doctrine and duty
of natural religion. Now, in this respect, deism has a
tendency to a vastly greater degree of error and brutish-
ness with regard to matters of religion and morality, than
the ancient heathenism. For the heathens in general had
no such notion that the Deity never at all conversed with
mankind in the ways above mentioned ; but received many
traditions, rules, and laws, as supposing they came from
God, or the gods, by revelation.
§ 1 6. Many of the freethinkers of late deceive them
selves, through the ambiguity or equivocal use of the word
reason. They argue, that we must make our reason the
highest rule by which to judge of all things, even of the
doctrines of revelation ; hecause reason is that by which
we must judge of revelation itself. It is the rule on which
our judgment of the truth of a revelation depends, and
therefore undoubtedly must be that, by which particular
doctrines of it must be judged : not considering that the
word reason is here used in two senses. In the former,
viz. in our judging of the divinity of a supposed revela
tion, the word means the faculty of reason taken in the
whole extent of its exercise ; in the latter, it is the opinion
of our reason, or some particular opinions that have ap
peared rational to us. Now there is a great difference
between these two. It is true, the faculty of reason is that
by which we are to judge of every thing, as it is the eye
by which we see all truth. And, after we have received
revelation, still, by the faculty of reason, we receive the
particular doctrines of revelation, yea, even those that are
most difficult to our comprehension. For, by the faculty
of reason we determine this principle, that God knows
better than us ; and whatever God declares is true. But
this is an exceedingly different thing from making an
opinion, which we first establish without revelation, by
reason only, as our rule to judge of particular doctrines
which revelation declares. It may be illustrated by this :
if there be a man with whom we have the most thorough
acquaintance, and have long known to be a person of the
soundest judgment and greatest integrity, who goes a
journey or voyage to a place where we never were ; and,
when he returns, gives an account of some strange phe
nomena or occurrences that he was an eye-witness of there,
which we should not have otherwise believed ; but we be
lieve them now to be true, because we rely on his testi
mony. Here, it would be ridiculous for a man to say,
that it is unreasonable to believe him, because what fie
says is not agreeable to reason ; (meaning, by reason, that
particular opinion we should have had, independent on his
testimony ;) and urging that reason must be our highest
rule, and not his testimony, because it is by our reason that
we judge of the testimony, and credibility of the man
that testifies ; meaning, in this case, the faculty of reason.
This would be as unreasonable, as for a man to say, that
he never will rely on any representation made by the best
microscope or telescope " that is different from the repre
sentation which he has by the naked eye ; because his eye
is the rule by which he sees even the optic glass itself, and
by which he judges whether it be regularly made, tending
to give a true representation of objects ; urging that his eye
must be the highest rule for him to determine by, because
it is by the eye he determines the goodness and sufficiency
of the glass itself; and therefore he will credit no repre
sentation made by the glass, wherein the glass differs from
his eye ; and so will not believe that the blood consists
partly of red particles, and partly of a limpid liquor, be
cause it appears all red to the naked eye : not considering
the different sense in which he uses the word eye. In the
former case, viz. with respect to judging of the goodness of
the optic glass, he means the sense of seeing, or the organ
of sight. In the latter, when he says he will not believe
the representation of the glass, wherein it differs from his
eye, because his eye. is the highest rule ; by the eye, he
means the particular representation he has by his eye, sepa
rately, and without the glass.
§ 17. Again : They blunder exceedingly, through not
making a distinction between reason and a rule of reason.

Chap. VIII.

MEDIUM OF MORAL GOVERNMENT.

489

They say, that reason is our highest rule by which to judge
of all things, and therefore they must judge of the doctrines
of revelation by it : whereas, they seem not to consider
what they mean by reason being the highest rule. It is
true, our reason or understanding is the only judging
faculty by which we determine truth and falsehood. But
it is not properly our highest rule of judging of truth and
falsehood, nor any rule at all. The judge, and the rule by
which he judges, are diverse. A power of discerning truth,
and a ride to regulate and determine the use of that power,
are quite different things. The rule may be divine revela
tion, especially in matters of religion. As it is wilh the
faculty or organ of sight, the organ is not properly the
highest means, but the only immediate means we have of
discerning the objects of sight. But if men were talking of
rules how to use their eyes to the best advantage, so as to
see most certainly and clearly — to see the most distant or
the minutest objects, so as to have the most certain and
full information — it would be ridiculous for any one
to say that his eye was the highest rule to regulate his
sight. § 18. Sometimes, by the word reason, is intended the
same as argument or evidence, which the faculty of reason
makes use of in judging of truth : as when we say, we
should believe nothing without or contrary to reason; that
is, we should not give the assent of our judgments with
out or against evidence, or something that appears which
argues the thing lo be true. But if this be meant by them
who assert reason to be a rule superior to revelation, it is
absurd in them thus to speak of reason as contradistin
guished from revelation. To say, that argument or evi
dence is a higher rule than revelation, is to make evidence
and divine revelation entirely distinct; implying, that
divine revelation is not of the nature of evidence or argu
ment. They ought to explain themselves, who assert that
evidence is superior to. the evidence we have by divine re
velation. It is true, divine testimony is not the same thing
as argument or evidence in general ; because it is a parti
cular sort of evidence. There are other particular sorts of
evidence ; and persons might speak as intelligibly, if they
single out any other kind of evidence, and assert that reason
or evidence was superior to that sort of evidence. As, for
instance, one sort of evidence is human testimony of cre
dible eye-witnesses ; another is credible history ; another is
memory ; another is present experience ; another is geome
trical mensuration ; another is arithmetical calculation ;
another is strict metaphysical distinction and comparison.
Now, would it not be an improper and unintelligible way
of speaking, to ask, whether evidence was not above expe
rience ? or, whether argument was not above mensuration or
calculation? If they who plead that reason is a rule to
judge of truth superior to revelation, mean by reason, that
evidence which is worthy to influence tlie faculty of reason ;
it seems not to be considered by them, that such evidence,
when spoken of in general, comprehends divine testimony,
as well as other sorts of evidence ; unless they would en
tirely set aside divine revelation, as carrying in it no evi
dence at all. If this be their meaning, they are deceitful ;
for this is not what they pretend ; since it would entirely
change the point in dispute, and alter the whole con
troversy. Or if, when they say reason is a higher rule than revela
tion, they mean reason exclusive of revelation, or that such
arguments of truth as we have without revelation, are better
than divine testimony ; that is as much as to say, all other
arguments are better than divine testimony. For reason or
argument, without divine testimony, comprehends all other
arguments that are without divine testimony : and then,
this is as much as to say, that divine testimony is the very
least and lowest of all possible arguments, that ever can
occur to the mind of man, in any measure to influence his
judgment ; which meaning they will hardly own. On the
whole, it is manifest, that, let us turn the expressions
which way we will, all the boasted proof of their assertion
is owing wholly to confusion, and an ambiguous use of
terms; it is talking without ideas, and making sounds
without fixing any distinct meaning.
§ 19. Here, if any, in disdain of such an imputation,
shall say, " I see no necessity of supposing this assertion
to be so unreasonable and unintelligible. By reason, we

mean that evidence which is seen by reason simply con
sidered ; reason itself, without dependence on the dictates
of another; viewing things as they are in themselves :" such
an objector is mistaken, if he thinks he has got clear of the
difficulty. All evidence whatsoever, even that by divine
revelation, is included in his description of reason. It is
by viewing things as they are in themselves, and judging by
our own reason, and not by the reason of another, that we
judge there is a divine revelation, and that we judge divine
revelation must be agreeable to truth. Reason judges by
viewing things as they are in themselves, not the less be
cause it makes use of a medium of judgment : and when
reason makes use of divine testimony as an evidence or
medium of judgment, it judges as much by viewing things
as they are in themselves, as when it makes use of any
other medium of judgment ; as, for instance, a measuring-
rod in judging of distances, a compass in judging of direc
tions and courses, and figures and characters in calculating
and determining numbers.
If any should say, that reason, in our inquiries after
truth, is to be regarded as a rule superior to experience,
this — according to what would be most naturally suggest
ed to the mind by such a saying, and might generally be
supposed to be intended by it according to the more usual
acceptation of words — would be a foolish assertion. For
by the comparison which takes place in the proposition be
tween reason and experience, reason would be understood
in such a sense as that it might properly be set in opposi
tion to experience, or taken in contradiction to it; and
therefore the proposition must be understood thus, viz.
That our highest rule is what our reason would suggest to
us independent of experience, in the same things that
are matters of experience. Or, what our reason would
lead us to suppose before experience, is what we must re
gard as our highest rule, even in those matters that after
wards are tried by experience. Certainly, he that should
proceed in this manner in his inquiries after truth, would
not be thought wise by considerate persons.
§ 20. Yet it is really true, in some sense, that our
reason is our highest rule ; and that by which we are to try
and judge of all things : even our experience and senses
themselves must be tried by it. For we have no other
faculty but our reason, by which we can determine of
truth or falsehood, by any argument or medium whatso
ever. Let the argument be testimony or experience, or
what it will, we must judge of the goodness or strength of
the argument by reason. And thus it is we actually de
termine, lhat experience is so good and sure a medium of
proof. We consider the nature of it; and our reason soon
shows us the necessary connexion of this medium with
truth. So we judge of the degree of dependence that is to
be had on our senses by reason ; by viewing the agree
ment of one sense with another, and by comparing, in innu
merable instances, the agreement of the testimonies of the
senses with other criteria of truth, and so rationally estimat
ing the value of these testimonies.
But if this is what is meant by saying, that our reason
is a surer rule than experience, it is an improper way of
speaking, and an abuse of language. For, take reason
thus ; and so reason and experience are not properly set
in contradiction, or put in comparison one with another;
for the former includes the latter, as the genus includes
the species, or as a whole includes the several particular
sorts comprehended in that whole. For, judging by expe
rience is one way of judging by reason ; or rather, experi
ence is one sort of argument which reason makes use of in
judging. And to say that reason is a more sure rule than
experience, is to say, that arguing is a more sure rule than
a particular way of arguing ; or to say that argument (in
general) is a more sure rule than that particular sort of ar
gument, viz. experience. Or if, by reason, is meant the
faculty qf reason, or that power or ability of the mind,
whereby'it can see the force of arguments ; then such an
assertion will appear still more nonsensical. For then, it is
as much as to say, that the mind's ability to see the force of
arguments, is a surer rule by which to judge of truth,
than that particular argument, viz. experience ; which is
the same as to say, an ability to judge of arguments is a
surer argument than that sort of argument, experience ;
or that a man's understanding is a better rule to under-

490

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Part I.

stand by, than such a particular means or rule of under
standing. These observations concerning reason and experience,
when these two are compared as rules by which to judge
of truth, may be applied to reason and revelation, or di
vine testimony, when in like manner compared as distinct
rules of truth. To insist, that men's own reason is a rule
superior to divine revelation, under a pretence, that it is
by reason that we must judge even of the authority of
revelation ; that all pretended revelations must be brought
to the test of reason ; and that reason is the judge whether
they are authentic or not, &c. is as foolish as it would be
to assert, for the like reasons, that man's own reason is a
test of truth superior to experience. There is just the
same fallacy in the arguments that are brought to support
one and the other of these foolish assertions ; and both are,
for reasons equally forcible, very false, or very nonsensical.
§ 21. If the assertion of those who say, that men's own
reason is a higher test of truth than divine revelation, has
any sense in it, it must imply a comparison of different
sorts of arguments or evidences of truth ; and so the mean
ing of it must be, that those evidences of truth, which
men find before they have the help of divine revelation,
are a better criterion of truth, than any discovery they have
by revelation. And their great argument to prove it is
this, that the faculty of reason, by which the mind is able
to discern the force of truth, is the only faculty by which
we are able to judge of the value and force of revelation
itself. It is just such a sort of arguing, as if a person should
go about to demonstrate, that a man could more certainly
discover the form and various parts of the planets with the
naked eye, than with a telescope ; because the eye is that
by which we see all visible things, yea, by which we see
and discern how to use and to judge of the goodness of
telescopes themselves.
In the argument these men use, to prove that reason is
a better test of truth than revelation, they wretchedly de
ceive themselves, by sliding off from the meaning which
they give to the word reason in the premises, into another
meaning of it exceedingly diverse in the conclusion. In
the premises, wherein they assert, that reason is that by
which we judge of all things, even of revelation itself,
they mean either the power of discerning evidence, or the
act of reasoning in general. The consequence they draw
is, Therefore reason is a higher test of truth than revela
tion. Here, if they retained the same sense of the word
as in the premises, the conclusion would be perfect non
sense. For then, the conclusion would be thus : The
power or the act of discerning evidence, is a better evidence
of truth than divine revelation. But this is not what is
intended to be understood. What is intended in the con
clusion, is, that the evidence we have before we have reve
lation, or independently of it, is better and more certain
than revelation itself.
§ 22. The outward provision which God makes through
the ages of the world for the temporal benefit and comfort
of mankind, in causing his sun to shine and his rain to
descend upon them, and in numberless other things, is a
great argument that God was not determined to be
their everlasting, irreconcilable enemy. And if God be
reconcilable, it will follow, that he must make a revela
tion to mankind, to make known to them the terms and
methods of reconciliation. For God, who is offended, alone
can tell us on what terms he is willing to be reconciled ;
and how he will be at peace with us, and receive us to
favour. And there surely is nothing which can be pre
tended to be any revelation of this kind, if the Holy Scrip
ture is not.
§ 23. Objection: The Scriptures are communicated to
but few of mankind ; so that, if a revelation of the method
of reconciliation be necessary, a verv great part of those
who enjoy these external benefits and bounties of Divine
Providence, still have no opportunity to obtain reconcilia
tion with God, not having the benefit of that revelation.
So that, notwithstanding these seeming testimonies of
favour and placableness, it is all one to them as if God
was irreconcilable. For still, for want of the knowledge
of the method of reconciliation, it is all one to them as
though there were no such method, and as though no re
conciliation were possible. — To this I answer,

Is/, The case of mankind is not just the same as if there
were no such thing as reconciliation for mankind, or as
though reconciliation were utterly impossible. For al
though the circumstances of a great part of the world be
such that their reconciliation be very improbable, yet it is
not utterly impossible. There is a way of reconciliation,
and it is publicly known in the world ; and God has ever
afforded opportunity to the generality of the habitable
world, that if the minds of men had been as much engaged
in the search of divine truth as they ought to have been,
they might have felt after God, and found him ; and might
probably have come to an acquaintance with divine reve
lation. 2_, If there have been some parts of mankind, in some
ages, for whom it was next to impossible that they should
ever come to know that revelation which God has made,
yet that hinders not the force of the argument for God's
placableness to sinners, and the existence of a revealed
method of reconciliation. The common favours of Provi
dence may be a proof, that God intends favour to some
among mankind, but yet be no proof that he intends that
all shall actually have the benefits of his favour. None
will deny, but that those outward blessings of God's good
ness were intended for the temporal benefit of mankind;
and yet there are numbers who never actually receive any
temporal benefit by many of them. None will doubt, but
that God aimed at men's outward good, in providing grain,
and grapes, and other fruits which the earth produces for
man's subsistence and comfort in the world ; as also the
most useful animals. But yet a very great part of the world
were for a long time wholly destitute of the most useful
of these. All the innumerable nations that dwelt on, this
American side of the globe, were from age to age, till the
Europeans came hither, wholly destitute of wheat, rye,
barley, pease, wine, horses, neat cattle, sheep, goats, swine,
poultry, and many other useful animals and fruits, which
abounded in the other continent.
And it is probable, that some of those gifts of nature
and Providence, which are most useful to mankind, were
what all men remained without the benefit of for many
ages ; as metals, wine, and many things used for food, cloth
ing, and habitations. The loadstone, with regard to its polar
direction, was doubtless intended for the use of mankind ;
but yet it is but lately that any of them have had any be
nefit of it. Glass is a great gift of Providence, and yet
but lately bestowed ; and also some of the most useful
medicines. And with regard to those things which are
most universally useful, some have the benefit of them in
vastly lesser degrees than others ; as the heat of the sun,
vegetation, &c.
§ 24. If it should be further objected, That if God's
true aim in these outward benefits of providence, which
have the appearances of favour, be real favours to man
kind, and so that the true happiness of mankind should
be the consequence ; one wouid think it would have the
same effect in all places where those blessings are be
stowed. I answer, that it will not follow. God may grant things
in all parts of the world, the main design of which may
evidently be the benefit of mankind, and yet not have that
effect in all places where they are given. As the main de
sign of Him who orders the existence of rain in the world,
is making the earth fruitful ; yet it does not follow that
he designed this should actually be the effect in all parts
of the globe where the rain falls. For it falls on the sea
as well as the dry land, which is more than one half of
the globe : but yet there it cannot answer this intention.
§ 25. Reason alone cannot certainly determine, that
God will not insist on some satisfaction for injuries he re
ceives. If we consider what have in fact been the general
notions of mankind, we shall see cause to think, that the
dictates of men's minds,- who have been without revela
tion, have been contrariwise, viz. that the Deity will insist
on some satisfaction. Repentance makes some satisfaction
for many injuries that men are guilty of one towards an
other; because it bears some proportion to the degree of
injury. But reason will not certainly determine, that it is
proper for God to accept of repentance as some satisfaction
for an offence, when that repentance is infinitely dispropor
tionate to the heinousness of the offence, or the degree of

Chap. VIII.

MEDIUM OF MORAL GOVERNMENT.

491

injuriousness that is offered. And reason will not cer
tainly determine, that the offence of forsaking and renounc
ing God in heart, and treating him with such indignity and
contempt, as to set him below the meanest and vilest
things, is not immensely greater, and more heinous, than
any injury offered to men ; and that therefore all our re
pentance and sorrow fall infinitely short of proportion in
measure and degree. If it be said that we may reasonably
conclude, and be fully satisfied in it, that a good God
will forgive our sin on repentance ; I ask, what can be
meant by repentance in the case of them that have no love
nor true gratitude to God in their hearts, but who discover
such an habitual disregard and contempt of God in their
conduct, as to treat created things, of the lowest value,
with greater respect than him ? If it be said, that thereby
is meant being sorry for the offence ; I ask, whether that
sorrow is worthy to be accepted as true repentance, that
does not arise from any change of heart, or from a bet
ter mind, a mind more disposed to love God, and ho
nour him, being now so changed as to have less disregard
and contempt? whether or not the sorrow which arises
only from fear and self-love, with a heart still in rebellion
against God, be such as we can be certain will be accept
ed ? If not, how shall a man, who at present has no better
heart, but yet is greatly concerned for himself through
fear, know how to obtain a better heart ? How does it ap
pear, that he, if he tries only from fear and self-love, can
make himself better, and make himself love God ? what
proper tendency can there be in the heart to make itself
better, until it sincerely repents of its present badness ?
and how can the heart have sincerity of repentance of its
present badness, until it begins to be better, and so begins
to forsake its badness, by truly disapproving it, from a good
disposition, or a better tendency arising in it ? If the dis
position remain just the same, then no sincere disapproba
tion arises ; but the reigning disposition, instead of destroy
ing, on the contrary approves and confirms itself. The
heart can have no tendency to make itself better, until it
begins to have a better tendency : for therein consists its
badness, viz. having no good tendency or inclination. And
to begin to have a good tendency, or, which is the same
thing, to begin to have a sincere inclination to he better, is
the same thing as to begin already to be better. So that it
seems, that they that are now under the reigning power of
an evil heart, can have no ability to help themselves, how
sensible soever they may be of their misery, and concerned
through fear and self-love to be delivered : but they need
this from God, as part of their salvation, viz. that God
should give them sincere repentance, as well as pardon and
deliverance from the evil consequences of sin. And how
shall they know, without revelation, that God will give
sinners a better heart, to enable them truly to repent ; or
in what way they can have any hope to obtain it of him ?
And if men could obtain some sincere repentance of their
being wholly without that love of God that they ought to
have ; yet how can reason determine, that God will for
give their sin, until they wholly forsake it ? or until their
repentance is perfect? until they relinquish all their sinful
contempt, ingratitude, and regardlessness of God? or,
which is the same thing, until they fully return to their
duty, i. e. to that degree of love, honour, gratitude, and de
votedness to God, that is their duty ? If they have robbed
God, who can certainly say that God will forgive them,
until they restore all that they have robbed him of, and'
give him the whole that he claims by the most absolute
right ? But where is any man that repents with such a
perfect repentance ? and if there be ever any instances of
it in this world, who will say, that it is in every man's
power to obtain it ? or that there certainly are no lower
terms of forgiveness ? and if there are, who can tell cer
tainly where to set the bounds, and say precisely to what
degree a man must repent ? How great must tiis sorrow
be in proportion to his offences, &c. ? Or, who can say,
how long a man's day of probation shall last? Will
reason alone certainly determine, that if a man goes on for
a long time presumptuously in his contempt, rebellion,
and affronts, presuming on God's goodness, depending
lhat though he does thus abuse his grace as long as he
pleases, yet if he repents at any time, God will forgive
him, and receive him to favour, forgiving all his presump

tuous aggravated rebellion, ingratitude, and provocation,
and will receive him into the arms of his love ? Will rea
son alone fully satisfy the mind, that God stands ready to
pardon and receive to favour such a sinner, after long con
tinuance in such horrid presumption and most vile ingra
titude? Or, will reason fully determine for a certainty,
that God will do it, if men thus presumptuously spend
their youth, the best part of their lives, in obstinate and
ungrateful wickedness, depending that God will stand
ready to pardon afterwards ? And, in short, how can reason
alone be sufficient to set the bounds, and say how long
God will bear with and wait upon presumptuous sinners ?
how many acts of such ingratitude and presumption he will
be ready to forgive, and on what terms, &c. ? I say, how
can reason fix these limits, with any clear evidence that
shall give the mind a fixed establishment and satisfaction ?
Therefore, if there be any such thing as the forgiveness
and salvation of sinful men ; new relations of God to men,
and concerns of God with men, and a new dependence of
men on God, will arise, no less, probably much more, im
portant, than those which are between God as man's Crea
tor, and the Author of his natural good. And as God
must manifest his perfections in a new work of redemption
or salvation, contrived and ordered by his infinite wisdom,
and executed by his power — in a perfect consistence with
his justice and holiness, and a greater manifeslation of his
goodness, than is made in his works, as the Author of na
ture — so these things must be the foundation of new re
gards to God, new duties, and a new religion, founded on
those displays of his perfections in the work of salvation,
and on the new relations God sustains towards men, and
the new dependence of men on God, and new obligations
laid on men in that work, which may be called revealed
religion, different from that natural religion which is found
ed on the works of God, as the Creator and the Author of
nature, and our concerns with God in that work ; though
not at all contrary to it.
The light of nature teaches that religion which is neces
sary to continue in the favour of the God that made us ;
but it cannot leach us that religion which is necessary to
our being restored to the favour of God, after we have for
feited it.

CHAP. IX.
Mahometanism compared with Christianity— particularly
with respect to their propagation.
§ 1. In what respect the propagation of Mahometanism
is "far from being parallel with the propagation of Chris
tianity, will appear by these observations. — The revolution
that was brought to pass in the world, by the propagation
of Mahometanism, was not so great as that which happen
ed by the propagation of Christianity ; yea, in this respect,
was by no means worthy to be compared to it. Consider
the state the world was in before Christianity was propa
gated ; how dark, ignorant, barbarous, and wicked ; how
strongly these things were established by long universal
immemorial custom ; how fixed in men's hearts ; how es--
tablished by all human authority, and power, and inclina
tion ; and how vast the alteration, when Christianity was
introduced and established ; how vast the overthrow of
that which had been built up before, and stood from age
to age ; how great, how strong the building ; how abso
lute its destruction : and also, how great the building that
was erected in its room ; and of how different and oppo
site a nature from that which had stood on the same ground
before. y 2. But as to the revolution brought to pass in the
world by Mahometanism, it consisted either in the change
made among the heathen — barbarous nations, which had
their original from Arabia or Scythia— or among professing
Christians. But with respect to neither of these, was the
revolution comparably so great as the other. As to the
change made among those heathens, they long had enter
tained some obscure notions of the true God; and many
ofthe great truths of what is called natural religion, they
had obtained by those glimmerings of the light of the
gospel which had been diffused over great part of the

492

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

world ; even that part of it that had not fully embraced
Christianity. But Mahometanism carried them very little
farther in these things ; and was an occasion of but small
advance of light and knowledge. As to the change made
among Christians, there was no advance at all made in
knowledge, or in any thing that was good. And as to the
change made among them as to religious customs, they
had so degenerated before, and were become so super
stitious, that the alteration was not very perceptible.
§ 3. The difference of the two revolutions was immense
ly great as to goodness. The change made in the world by
the propagation of Christianity, was a great change indeed,
with regard to light and knowledge. It was a change
from great darkness to glorious and marvellous light. By
the preaching of the gospel in the world, the day-spring
from on high visited the earth, and the sun arose after a
long night of the grossest darkness. But as to the change
made in Christendom by the propagation of Mahometan
ism, there was no increase of light by it, but on the con
trary, it was evidently a change from light to darkness. It
was a propagation of ignorance, and not of knowledge.
As to the change made among the heathens, as we ob
served before, there was but a small degree of increased
light; and all that was added, was borrowed from Chris
tianity. Any increase of knowledge that arose, proceeded
only from Mahomet and his followers communicating
what had before been communicated to them by christian
teaching. There can be no pretence of the least degree of
addition in any thing, beyond what they had before received
from the gospel. And as to rules and precepts, examples,
promises, or incitements to virtue of any kind, no addition
at all was made. What alteration there existed, was only
for the worse ; the examples, histories, representations, and
promises ofthe new Mahometan religion, only tended ex
ceedingly to debase, debauch, and corrupt the minds of
such as received it.
§ 4. The revolution that was occasioned by the propa
gation of Christianity, was an infinitely greater and more
wonderful effect, if we consider the opposition that was
overcome in bringing it to pass. Christianity was propa
gated against all the opposition that could be made by
man's carnal dispositions, strengthened by inveterate
general custom, principles, habits, and practice, prevailing
like a mighty flood. Mahometanism was propagated, not
in opposition to those inclinations, but by complying with
them, and gratifying them, in examples, precepts, and pro
mises, as Stapferus observes, (Theol. Polem. torn. iii. p.
292.) Speaking of Mahomet's laws, he says, " The law
which he published was, above all others, accommodated
not only to the opinions of men, but also to the depraved
nature, manners, and innate vices of those nations, among
whom he propagated it ; nor did it require much more
than external exercises, which, to a carnal man, are much
more easy to be performed, than those spiritual exercises
which the sacred pages prescribe. He allowed of revenge
for injuries; of discarding wives for the slightest causes;
ofthe addition of wives to wives, which must have served
only as so many new provocatives to lust. At the same
time he indulged himself in the greatest excess of promis
cuous and base lasciviousness. He placed the true wor
ship of God in such external ceremonies, as have no ten
dency to promote true piety. In fine, the whole of that
religion which he instituted, was adapted to no other end,
than the shedding of human blood."
§ 5. This religion is particularly adapted to the luxuri
ous and sensual disposition. Christianity was extremely
contrary to the most established and darling notions ofthe
world ; whereas Mahomet accommodated his doctrines to
all such notions as were most pleasing at lhat time, among
the heathen, Arabians, Jews, and the several most prevail
ing sects of Christians ; as Stapferus observes :
" Mahomet retained many of the opinions of the ancient
Arabians ; he mixed his doctrine with the fables of the
Jews, and retained many of the ceremonies of the other
religions prevalent at that time. The religion of Mahomet
favoured the prejudices of the Jews and of the heathens ;
and was suited to the desires ofthe flesh, and to the allure
ments ofthe world. But the religion which Christ taught,
did not, in the least instance, favour the depraved affections
of men, and the indulgence of the flesh ; but was diametri

cally opposed to them : nor was it suited to the prejudices
of either Jews or Gentiles ; but it was plainly contrary to
the preconceived opinions of men. Whence the apostles,
in preaching this religion, immediately opposed both the
religion of the Jews and of the Gentiles." (Ibid. p. 340.)
Christianity was propagated under the most violent, uni
versal, and cruel persecution of all the powers of the world.
Mahometanism was not so ; it never made its way any
where, in any remarkable degree, against persecution.
$ 6. The difference will appear great, if we consider the
time when each of these were propagated. Christianity
was propagated at a time when human learning and science
was at its greatest height in the world. But Mahomet
anism was broached and propagated in ages of great dark
ness, after learning had exceedingly decayed, and was
almost extinguished in the world.
§ 7. The difference will farther appear, if we consider
the places from whence these religions were propagated.—
Christianity was first begun in a place of great light, the
greatest light with regard to religious knowledge then
known, and in a very public part of the globe; whither
resorted innumerable multitudes of people three times
every year, from almost all parts of the then known world.
And beside the vast resort of Jews and proselytes thither,
it was a country that was at that time under the inspection
and government of the Romans, where they had a gover
nor, and other public officers, constantly residing. It was
propagated especially from Jerusalem, the chief city in
that country, and one of the greatest and most public
cities in the world ; and, indeed, all things considered,
was next to Rome itself, nay, in some respects, even far
beyond Rome. And the nations among whom it was first
propagated after the Jews, were — not the more ignorant
and barbarous, but— the most knowing and learned in the
world ; as particularly the Greeks and Romans. And the
cities where it was very early received, and from whence
it was promulgated to other parts, were the greatest, most
public, and polite ; such as Antioch, Ephesus, Alexandria,
Corinth, Athens, and Rome : and some of these were the
greatest seats of learning and philosophy on earth.—
Whereas Mahometanism was broached in a dark corner of
the earth, Arabia ; and the people among whom it first
gained strength, who sent out armies to propagate it to
the rest of the world, were an ignorant and barbarous sort
of people ; such as the Saracens and Turks, who originated
from Scythia.
§ 8. The difference appears in ihe means and methodof
propagation. Christianity was propagated by light, in
struction and knowledge, reasoning and inquiry. These
things were encouraged by the gospel ; and by these
means the gospel prevailed. But Mahometanism was not
propagated by light and instruction, but by darkness ; not
by encouraging reasoning and search, but by discouraging
knowledge and learning ; by shutting out those things, and
forbidding inquiry; and so," in short, by blinding the eyes
of mankind. — It was propagated by the power of the sword
also ; by potent sultans, absolute tyrants, and mighty
armies. Christianity was propagated by the weakest of
men, unarmed with any thing but meekness, humility,
love, miracles, clear evidence, most virtuous, holy, and
amiable examples, and the power and favour of eminent
virtue, joined with assured belief of the truth, with self-
denial and suffering for truth and holiness. By such
weapons as these was it propagated against the power,
authority, wealth, and armour of the world : against the
greatest potentates, most absolute and cruel tyrants, their
most crafty counsels, and greatest strength, utmost rage
and cruelty, and determined resolutions to put a stop to
it. It was propagated against all the strength of the
strongest empire that ever was in the world.
§ 9. One principal way wherein the propagation of
Christianity is a proof of its truth, consists in its heing an
evidence of the facts that are the foundation of it. Chris
tianity is built on certain great and wonderful visible
facts ; such as, Christ's resurrection from the dead, and
the great and innumerable miracles wrought by him and
his apostles, and other his followers, in Judea and many
parts of the world.— These facts were alwavs referred to,
as the foundation of the whole ; and Christianity alwavs
pretended to be built on them. That Christianity, which,

Chap. X.

THE JEWISH NATION A STANDING EVIDENCE, &c.

493

in effect, is no other than the belief of these facts, should
be extensively propagated in and near the places and
time when the facts were said to be wrought ; when and
where there was so much opportunity and advantage to
know the truth of the matter ; is a great, standing, ever
lasting evidence of the truth of the facts. But as to
Mahometanism, it pretends to no facts for its proof and
foundation, but only Mahomet's pretences to intercourse
with heaven, and his success in rapine, murder, and vio
lence. — Belief of sensible miracles, or public attestations of
heaven to Mahomet's authority and doctrines, was no part
of his religion ; and was not employed in its propagation.
$ 10. If we consider the propagation of Christianity as
a doctrine or belief of wonderful divine facts, Mahomet
anism is not set up in opposition to it ; because the Ma
hometan religion itself acknowledges the principal facts
of Christianity, though it has no facts of its own to urge.
And so Mahometanism rather confirms than weakens
Christianity ; and the propagation of Mahometanism it
self may be considered as one thing belonging to the pro
pagation of Christianity, and as a part of that propagation,
in as far as it consists in a propagation of a professed belief
of those facts. It is so far an instance of the propagation
of that which is the foundation of Christianity, that it
proves all the rest. The Alcoran owns Jesus to be a great
prophet ; " the messenger of God," (Surat. v. 84.) that he
wrought miracles, healing a man blind from his birth, and
the leprous, (Surat. v. 119.) also raising the dead; and
that Jesus as horn of Mary was himself a miracle, (Surat.
xxiii. 52.) He often speaks of Jesus as the servant and
messenger of God ; (Surat. iv. 158. iii. 152. iv. 169, 170.
v. 84.) Now, owning this, is in effect owning the whole.
This is the foundation ofthe whole, and proves all the rest.
It owns that Jesus was miraculously conceived and born ;
(Surat. iii. 47. xix. 20, 21.) and without sin. (Surat. iii.
36. xix. 19.) — Mahomet owns Jesus, and ascribes the con
ception of Christ alone to the power of God, and the in
flation of his Spirit. — In Surat. xxi. 19. are these words,
as the words of God : " And Mary was a chaste virgin,
and We inspired her with Our Spirit, and set up her and
her son as a miracle to all ages." — He owned Jesus to be
the Messiah foretold in the law and the prophets ; Surat.
iii. 45. " When the angels said, O Mary, certainly God
declares to thee his own word ; his name shall be Jesus
Christ, the son of Mary :" Surat. xix. 29. Surat. iv.
" Certainly Christ Jesus, the son of Mary, is the ambas
sador of God and his word." He owned Christ's ascen
sion into heaven. " God raised him (Christ) to himself;"
Surat. iv. 157. Concerning Christ's miracles, Mahomet
says, Surat. iii. 45. v. 119. " God says, O Jesus, the son
of Mary, I have strengthened thee by the Spirit of holi
ness ; and thou shalt, by my leave, heal a man blind from
his birth ; and by my leave thou shalt raise the dead from
their graves."
§11. In this respect the great propagation of the Ma
hometan religion is a confirmation of revealed religion —
and so of the christian in particular, which alone can have
any pretext to be a religion revealed by God — as this is a
great demonstration of the extreme darkness, blindness,
weakness, childishness, folly, and madness of mankind in
matters of religion, and shows how greatly they stand in
need of a divine guide, and divine grace and strength for
their help, such as the gospel reveals. And that this gross
delusion has continued so long to so great an extent,
shows how helpless mankind are, under ignorance and
delusion in matters of religion ; and what absolute need
they have of extraordinary divine interposition for their
relief. And besides, such a miserable, blind, helpless
state of mankind, is also exactly agreeable to tlie repre
sentation made in the christian revelation.

CHAP. X. ,
The Jewish nation havefrom their very beginning, been a re
markable standing evidence ofthe truth of revealed religion.
§ 1 . When everv other nation under heaven had for
saken the true God, and was overwhelmed in heathenish
darkness, the Jews had among them the knowledge and

worship of the true God, and rational and true notions of
his being, attributes, and works ; of his relation to man
kind, our dependence upon him, and the worship and
regards due to him. This was upheld among them alone,
for so many ages, to the coining of Christ ; while they
were surrounded oh every side with nations vastly differ
ing from them, and the worst of idolaters. The whole
world beside themselves had forgotten the true God, and for
saken his worship, and were all the while involved in gross
heathenism. They lived in the midst of the most fre
quented and most populous parts of the world. They did
not live separated from the rest ofthe world, as in an island
or a peninsula ; nor yet as divided from others by vast
deserts, or impassable mountains ; but on the continent,
in the midst of the habitable world, with populous coun
tries adjoining to them almost on every side. Those
nations, who were their next neighbours on every side,
were stedfastly gross pagans, and some of the most bar
barous idolaters.
§ 2 . They were not a nation that studied philosophy ;
thev had no schools among them under the care of
philosophers, who instructed their pupils in human sci
ence ; yet they had most apparently far better, more
sublime, and purer, notions of God and religion, of man's
duty, and of divine things in general, than the best of the
heathen philosophers. Nor do they seem to have been a
people any way remarkably distinguished from other
nations, by their genius and natural abilities. They were
a comparatively small people, not a great empire, not a
vast and potent commonwealth.
§ 3. Such changes and revolutions frequently came to
pass in their nation, and such was their peculiar state from
time to time, that they were exceedingly liable to be cor
rupted and overrun with heathenish notions, and the
customs of idolatrous nations, and to grow into a con
formity to the rest of the world in that respect. They were
above two hundred years in Egypt, which may be iooked
upon as the second nation, if not the first, for being the
fountain of idolatry. — And they lived there under circum
stances tending the most to their being corrupted with
idolatry, and brought to a conformity with the Egyptians
in that respect, of any that can be imagined ; especially
on these accounts : — they were there in the beginning and
rise of their nation. There the nation had its birth. It
grew from one family of about seventy persons, with the
father of the whole family at the head of it, to be more
than a million of people, yea probably (reckoning male
and female) about two millions. And they lived there,
not separate and distinct from the Egyptians ; but had
continual intercourse with them. Yea, they dwelt there
as inferiors, in subjection to the Egyptians ; their slaves :
and the Egyptians who had daily concern with them, were
their masters.
§ 4. After they came into the land of Canaan, they for
several ages dwelt there with the remains of the ancient
heathen inhabitants, who were so numerous and strong,
as sometimes to overcome and keep them long in subjec
tion ; which also, from time to time, their idolatrous
neighbours did. — And after they had lived long in the
land ten of their tribes were carried away into final cap
tivity, and heathen inhabitants planted in their stead : by
which the religion of the remaining two tribes was the
more exposed. At last these remaining two tribes, with
the Levites, and all that were left of the ten tribes who
had mixed with them, were carried away into Babylon,
the chief city of Chaldea, the country that above all in
the world (at least, excepting Egypt) was the fountain of
idolatry ; there they dwelt during the time of one genera
tion. So that before any of them returned, the body of
the people were a new generation, born and brought up in
that land of darkness, amongst idolaters, their superiors
and masters, and most of them the most honourable men
that were then in the world ; and a great part, perhaps the
greater part, of the nation never returned, but continued
dispersed in heathen countries till Christ's coming. As to
the nation in general, those in Canaan and those out of it
were in subjection to the three successive heathen mo
narchies, the Persian, Grecian, and Roman ; and heathen
people belonging to each of those empires, often swarmed
m their country.

494

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part I.

§ 5. The people seemed lo be, from their very begin
ning till the Babylonish captivity, exceedingly prone to
idolatry ; were fond, in that respect, of the customs of
those heathen neighbours, and were apt to think it honour
able to be like the rest of the nations, and a disgrace to be
singular. This appears in that they actually oftentimes
apostatized to idolatry, embraced the worship of the hea
then gods, and neglected the worship of the true God ;
and continued sometimes for a long time in their con
formity to their heathen neighbours. Yet they were won
derfully reclaimed from time to time ; so that they were
never suffered finally to apostatize, as all other nations in
the world had done, nor were left in their apostacy for so
long a space of time.
§ 6. All is the more remarkable, in that not only the
true God and his spiritual worship are so infinitely di
verse from the gods and religion of the heathens ; but the
external institutions and rites of worship observed among
the Jews, and the law of their worship and religion, were
remarkably diverse and repugnant to the religious rites
of their heathen neighbours. They were exceedingly op
posite to the rights of the Egyptians, among whom they
iived so long, and among whom they first became a na
tion. So were they also to the rites of the ancient inha
bitants of Canaan", of the Philistines, Moabites, Am
monites, &c.
§ 7. The Jews mav be considered as a remarkable evi
dence of the truth of revealed religion, in that they were
preserved so long a time a distinct nation from all others,
even since their father Jacob's time, till this day ; being
neither destroyed, nor abolished, nor lost by mixing with
other nations. Jacob himself was exposed to be destroyed
by his brother Esau, before he was married. His family
were greatly exposed to destruction, at least as to any
permanent distinction from other people, when Laban
pursued after him, with a design probably to kill him, and
to bring back his wives and children into Padan-aram,
and to keep them there ; or, at least, by some means to
carry back his family, and to prevent their ever going to
Canaan. He and his family were in imminent danger of
being destroyed when Esau came out against him with
four hundred men. His family were greatly exposed to
danger by the inhabitants of Canaan, when provoked by
his sons destroying the Shechemites. A series of wonder
ful and miraculous providences respecting Joseph, were
the means of preserving the family, without which they
would probably either have perished by the famine, or,
in the time of that famine, have wandered away from
Canaan, in such obscurity, and under such disadvan
tages, that they would likely have never returned any
more lo Canaan; and so the family would have been
broken up.
§ 8. In Egypt they were greatly exposed to be destroy
ed, when Pharaoh set himself to effect their destruction
by drowning all the males. When they had continued so
long in Egypt, under such abject circumstances ; it could
be owing to nothing but a series of the greatest miracles,
that ever they were separated from that people and land,
so as to return again to dwell by themselves, to be kept a
distinct nation. They were in imminent danger of being
swallowed up by Pharaoh and his host at the Red sea ;
or of receiving such a blow, as wholly to break up the de
sign of their proceeding to Canaan to live there. They
were exposed to suffer that which would have prevented
their proceeding, when the Amalekites met them, and fought
with them.
§ 9. Nothing but a course of most astonishing miracles
for forty years could have prevented their perishing in
the wilderness, or being obliged to go back again into
Egypt, and suffering captivity, dispersion, and ruin by the
nations that dwelt around that wilderness. — -They were
greatly exposed to be ruined as a people, by the opposi
tion of the Moabites, Midianites, Amorites, and Og the
king of Bashan. — That ever they got the possession of Ca
naan, which was then held by many nations greater and
stronger than they, was owing to a course of great mira
cles, without the intervention of which they must have
perished as a people.
§ 10. After they had obtained the possession of the
land, they were often greatly exposed to be utterly ruined

in the time of the judges, when their enemies in those
parts, who seemed to have an exceeding great hatred of
them, prevailed against and had the mastery of them. It
could be owing to nothing but the special providence of
God, that those enemies did not improve the advantages
they had in their hands, utterly to destroy them, or at
least to drive or carry them captive out of that land; par
ticularly the provoked Canaanites, before the deliverance
by Deborah and Barak ; the Midianites and the people of
the East, before the deliverance by Gideon; and after
them the Philistines.
§ 11. Afterwards, in the time of the kings, there were
many efforts of the enemies of Israel utterly to destroy
the whole nation, to cut them off from being a people, and
to blot out their very name from under heaven, agreeably
to Psalm Ixxxiii. 3 — 8. " They have taken crafty counsel
against thy people, and consulted against thy hidden ones.
They have said, Come, let us cut them off from being a
nation, that the name of Israel may be no more in re
membrance. For they have consulted together with one
consent. They are confederate against thee. The taber
nacles of Edom and the Ishmaelites, of Moab and the
Hagarenes, Gebal, and Ammon, and Amalek, the Philis
tines with the inhabitants of Tyre : Assur also is joined
with them ; they have holpen the children of Lot." — In
David's time there was such a mighty combination of
enemies against them, and so great a force was raised,
that, one would think, might have been sufficient to swal
low up the nation. — After Solomon's time, the nation was
greatly weakened, and so much the more exposed to ruin,
by their division into two kingdoms, often contending, and
seldom in amity the one with the other. — The nation was
greatly exposed in Rehoboam's time to be swallowed up
by Shishak king of Egypt; in Asa's time, by the vast
army of the Ethiopians ; and again, by the mighty army
of the Moabites, Ammonites, and Edomites, in Jehosha-
phat's time, 2 Chron. xx. When the kings of Assyria
overran and utterly destroyed the ten tribes, it was a won
der that the two tribes were spared, and the people were
greatly exposed to be finally ruined by Sennacherib's army,
who intended nothing else.
§ 12. When the people were carried captive into Ba
bylon by Nebuchadnezzar, and the whole land laid utterly
waste ; it was a wonder that this did not prove an entire
end to them as a people. It was a wonder they were
kept distinct in their captivity ; that then they were de
livered ; and that after they had been in captivity so long,
till those that had formerly lived in Canaan were ge
nerally dead, and a new generation born in Chaldea was
risen up, they should be brought back, and again settled
in their own land, and established as a people there. It
was a wonder that the land was vacant for them ; and a
wonder that they were not hindered in their design of re
settling there, by the mighty opposition made to it by the
Samaritans. § 13. The people were marvellously preserved from
being blotted out from under heaven by Haman, in the
time of Esther and Mordecai. They were wonderfully
preserved in Antiochus's time, who was earnestly set on
their utter destruction as a people; and it may be ob
served in general concerning them, during the time of the
Old Testament, that there was no nation whatsoever
against whom the nations in general were at such enmity,
as the nation of the Jews; and they were, on this ac
count, much more likely to be destroyed than any other
nation. § 14. They lived in a part of the world where they
were more exposed to be overrun by other nations, and so
to be by them either trodden down, or torn away and scat
tered abroad in the earth, than had they dwelt in any other
part; living as it were in the midst of the earth, betwixt
three great continents, Asia, Africa, and Europe. Their
land lav in the very road or thoroughfare between Asia
and Africa; between Egypt and the great Eastern and
Northern kingdoms, which for many ages were the greatest,
most potent, and active kingdoms in the world. It seems
the other nations thereabout were all destroved from being
a people, before Christ's time: as the Midianites, the
Moabites, Ammonites, Amalekites, the seven nations of
Canaan, and the Philistines.

CONCERNING THE MYSTERIES OF SCRIPTURE.

495

§ 15. It is remarkable, concerning a great part of the
time of the Old Testament, viz. from the Babylonish cap
tivity till Christ, that a great part of the Jews lived dis
persed amongst other nations : and both tliose who were
thus dispersed, and those that lived in their own land,
were all that time in the power of the heathen nations of
the four monarchies.
§ 16. With respect to the time since Christ, their pre
servation as a distinct nation has, in many respects, been
still more remarkable. It was wonderful, that what hap
pened to them in the time of Titus Vespasian, when the
greater part of the nation was destroyed, and the rest dis
persed all over the world in such wretched circumstances,
did not prove their utter destruction as a people. And
the calamities that happened to the remnant soon after

wards, made their continuance as a distinct people yet
more surprising. For within half a century after their de
struction by Titus, in the reign of Trajan and Adrian, the
nation in general every where rose in rebellion against the
Romans ; and were finally every where beaten ; so that in
these wars the Jews had a thousand cities and fortresses
destroyed, with the slaughter of about five hundred and
eighty thousand men. What are left of this people have
ever since remained in a total dispersion over all the world,
mixed every where with other people, without any thing
like a government or civil community of their own, and
often extremely harassed by other nations ; though still
they remain a clear and perfectly distinct nation from all
otlier people.

PART II.

OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING THE MYSTERIES OF SCRIPTURE.

§ 1. When we seek for any thing in the dark by so low a
faculty of discerning as the sense of feeling, or by the
sense of seeing with a dim light, sometimes we cannot find
it; though it be there, it seems to us to be impossible that
it should be. But yet, when a clear light comes to shine
into the place, and we discern by a better faculty, or the
same faculty in a clearer manner, the thing appears very
plain to us. So, doubtless, many truths will hereafter appear
plain, when we come to look on them by the bright light of
heaven, that now are involved in mystery and darkness.
§ 2. How are we ready to trust to the determinations of
one, universally reputed a man of great genius, of vast
penetration and insight into things, if he be positive in any
thing that appears to us very mysterious, and is quite con
trary to what we thought ourselves clear and certain in be
fore ! How are we ready in such a case to suspect our
selves ; especially if it be a matter wherein he has been
very much versed; has had much more occasion to look
into it than we ; and has been under greater advantages to
know the truth ! How much more still, if one shouid be
positive in it, as a thing he had clearly and undoubtedly
seen to be true, if he were still of ten times greater genius,
and of a more penetrating insight into things, than any that
ever have appeared ? And, in matters of fact, if some per
son whom we had long known, one of great judgment and
discretion, justice, integrity, and fidelity, and had always
been universally so reputed by others, should declare to us,
that he had seen and known that to be true which ap
peared to us very strange and mysterious, and concerning
which we could not see how it was possible ; how, in such
a case, should we be ready almost to suspect our own
faculties, and to give credit to such a testimony, in that
which, if he had not positively asserted it, and persisted in
it, we should have looked upon as perfectly incredible, and
absurd to be supposed !
§ 3. Prom that text, John iii. 12. "If I have told you
earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe if I
tell you of heavenly things 1" several things are manifest
concerning mysteries in religion. (1 .) That there are things
contained in those doctrines which Christ came into the
world to teach, which are not only so far above human
comprehension, that men cannot easily apprehend all that
is to be understood concerning them ; but which are diffi
cult to be received by the judgment or belief; "How shall
ye believe if I tell you of heavenly things ?" difficult, upon
the same account that the doctrine of the new birth was
difficult to Nicodemus, because it was so strange, and
seemingly impossible. (2.) We may from the words infer,
that the more persons are in themselves, and in their own
nature, above us ; the more the doctrines or truths con
cerning them are mysterious to us, above our comprehen
sion, and difficult to our belief; the more do those things
that are really true concerning them, contain seeming in
consistencies and impossibilities. For Christ, in the pre
ceding verses, had been speaking of something that is true

concerning man, being of the same nature, an inhabitant of
the same world, with ourselves ; which, therefore, Christ
calls an earthly thing. And this seemed very mysterious
and impossible, and to contain great seeming inconsist
encies. " How can a man be born when he is old ?" This
seemed to be a contradiction. And after Christ had some
what explained himself, still the doctrine seemed strange
and impossible ; ver. 9. "How can these things be?" Ni
codemus still looked upon it as incredible, and, on that
account, did not believe it at that time, as is implied in
these words of Christ ; " If I have told you earthly things,
and ye believe not." But Christ here plainly signifies,
that he had other truths to teach that were not about man,
an earthly inhabitant, but about a person vastly above men,
even about himself who is from heaven, and in heaven, as
in the next verse : " And no man hath ascended up to
heaven, but he that came down from heaven ; even the
Son of man which is in heaven." Which, therefore, it
would be much more difficult to men's understanding and
judgment, seeming to contain greater impossibilities and
inconsistencies ; as he then proceeds immediately to de
clare him a heavenly thing, as he calls it, viz. that Christ,
a heavenly and divine person should die ; ver. 14, 15. Such
a mysterious doctrine, so strange and seemingly inconsist
ent and impossible, that a divine person should die, is
more strange than that men should be born again. Hence,
when divines argue, from the mysterious nature of many
things here below with which we are daily conversant, that
it would be very unreasonable to suppose but that there
should be things concerning God which are much more
mysterious ; and that, therefore, it is unreasonable to ob
ject against the truth of the doctrines of the Trinity, Incar
nation, &c. ; they argue justly, because they argue as
Christ argued.
§ 4. The wiser heathens were sensible that the things of
the gods are so high above us, that what appertains to
them should appear exceedingly mysterious and wonder
ful to us ; and that it is therefore unreasonable to disbe
lieve what we are taught concerning them on that account.
This is fully expressed by Pythagoras ; viz. " Concerning
the gods, disbelieve nothing wonderful, nor yet concerning
divine things. This, says Jamblicus, declareth the super
lative excellency of God instructing us, and puts us in
mind, that we ought not to estimate the divine power by
our own judgment. The Pythagoreans stretched this rule
beyond the line of divine revelation, to the belief of every
oriental tradition." Gale's Court ofthe Gentiles, p. 2. b.
2. c. 8. 190.
§ 5. It is not necessary that persons should have clear
ideas of the subject of a proposition, in order to be ration
ally convinced of the truth of the proposition. There are
many truths, of which mathematicians are convinced by
strict demonstration, concerning many kinds of quantities,
as, surd quantities and fluxions ; but concerning which
they have no clear ideas.

496

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part II.

§ 6. Supposing that mankind in general were a species
of far less capacity than they are ; so much less, that,
when men are come to full ripeness of judgment and
capacity, they arrived no higher than that degree to which
children generally arrive at seven years of age ; and sup
posing a revelation to be made to mankind, in such a state
and degree of capacity, of many such propositions in phi
losophy as are now looked upon as undoubted truths ;
and let us suppose, at the same time, the same degree of
pride and self-confidence as there is now ; what cavilling
and objecting would there be ! Or, supposing a revelation
of these philosophical truths had been made to mankind,
with their present degree of natural capacity, in some
ancient generation — suppose that which was in Joshua's
time — in that degree of acquired knowledge and learning
which the world had arrived at then, how incredible would
those truths have seemed !
§ 7. If things, which fact and experience make certain,
such as the miseries infants are sometimes the subjects of
in this world, had been exhibited only in a revelation of
things in an unseen state, they would be as much dis
puted as the Trinity and other mysteries revealed in the
Bible. § 8. There is nothing impossible or absurd in the doc
trine of the incarnation qf Christ. If God can join a
body and a rational soul together, whicb are of natures so
heterogeneous and opposite, that they cannot, of them
selves, act one upon another ; may he not be able to join
two spirits together, which are of natures more similar ?
And, if so, he may, for ought we know to the contrary,
join the soul or spirit of a man to himself. Had reason
been so clear in it, that God cannot be incarnate, as many
pretend, it could never have such a notion to gain ground
and possess the minds of so many nations : nay, and of
Julian himself, who says, that " Jupiter begat Esculapius
out of his own proper substance, and sent him down to
Epidaurus, to heal the distempers of mankind." Reason
did not hinder Spinosa, Blount, and many other modern
philosophers, from asserting that God may have a body ;
or rather, that the universe, or the matter of the universe,
is God. Many nations believed the incarnation of Jupi
ter himself. Reason, instead of being utterly averse to
the notion of a divine incarnation, hath easily enough ad
mitted that notion, and suffered it to pass, almost without
contradiction, among the most philosophical nations of
the world.
§ 9. " In thinking of God's raising so many myriads of
spirits, and such prodigious masses of matter, out of no
thing, we are lost and astonished, as much as in the con
templation of the Trinity. We can follow God but one or
two steps in his lowest and plainest works, till all becomes
mystery and matter of amazement to us. How, then, shall
we comprehend himself? How shall we understand his
nature, or account for his actions ? In that he contains
what is infinitely more inconceivable than all the wonders
of his creation put together." Deism Revealed, edit. 2.
vol. ii. p. 93, 94.
Those who deny the Trinity, because of its mysterious
ness and seeming inconsistence, yet, generally, own God's
certain prescience of men's free actions, which they sup
pose to be free in such a sense, as not to be necessary. So
that we may do, or may not do, that which God certainly
foresees. " They also hold, that such a freedom without
necessity, is necessary to morality ; and that virtue and
goodness consists in any one's doing good when he might
do evil. And yet they suppose, that God acts by the
eternal law of nature and reason, and that it is impossible
that he should transgress that law, and do evil ; because
that would be a contradiction to his own nature, which is
infinitely and unchangeably virtuous. Now this seems a
flat contradiction. To say that the infinite goodness of
God's nature makes it utterly impossible for God to do
evil, is exactly the same as to say, he is under a natural
necessity not to do evil. And to say he is morally
free, is to say he may do evil. Therefore the necessity
and freedom in this case being both moral, the con
tradiction is flat and plain ; and amounts to this, that
God, in respect to good and evil actions, is both a ne
cessary and free agent. Dr. Clark, in his treatise on
the Attributes, labours to get clear of this contradiction

upon these principles of liberty, but without success ; and
leaves it just where all men, who hold the same principles,
must be forced to leave it. Therefore, they hold such
mysteries, in respect to Deity, that are even harder to be
conceived of, or properly expressed and explained, than
the doctrine of the Trinity.
" When we talk of God, who is infinite and incompre
hensible, it is natural to run into notions and terms which
it is impossible for us to reconcile. And in lower matters,
that are more within our knowledge and comprehension,
we shall not be able to keep ourselves clear of them. To
say that a curve line, setting out from a point within a
hair's breadth of a right line, shall run towards that right
line as swift as thought, and yet never be able to touch it,
seems contrary to common sense ; and were it not clearly
demonstrated in the conchoid of Nicomedes, could neve-
be believed. Matter is infinitely divisible ; and therefore,
a cubical inch of gold may be divided into an infinity of
parts ; and there can be no number greater than that
which contains an infinity. Yet another cubical inch of
gold may be infinitely divided also ; and therefore, the
parts of both cubes must be more numerous than tlie
parts of one only. Here is a palpable contrariety of ideas,
and a flat contradiction of terms. We are confounded
and lost in the consideration of infinites ; and surely, most
of all, in the consideration of that Infinite qf infinites.
We justly admire that saying of the philosopher, that God
is a Being whose centre is every where, and circumference
nowhere, as one of the noblest and most exalted flights of
human understanding ; and yet, not only the terms are
absurd and contradictory, but the very ideas that con
stitute it, when considered attentively, are repugnant to
one another. Space and duration are mysterious abysses,
in which our thoughts are confounded with demonstrable
propositions, to all sense and reason flatly contradictory to
one another. Any two points of time, though never so
distant, are exactly in the middle of eternity. The remotest
points of space that can be imagined or supposed, are each
of them precisely in the centre of infinite space." Deism
Revealed, vol. ii. p. 109—111.
Here might have been added the mysteries of God's
eternal duration, it being without succession, present, be
fore and after, all at once : Vita interminabilis lota simul
et perfecta possessio.
§ 10. To reject every thing but what we can first see to
be agreeable to our reason, tends, by degrees, to bring
every thing relating not only to revealed religion, but even
to natural religion, into doubt; to make all its doctrines
appear with dim evidence, like a shadow, or the ideas of
a dream, till they are all neglected as worthy of no regard.
It tends to make men doubt of the several attributes of
God, and so, in every respect, to doubt what kind of
being God is ; and to make men doubt about the forgive
ness of sin, and about the duties of religion, prayer and
giving thanks, social worship, &c. It will tend, at last,
to make men esteem the science of religion as of no
value, and so totally neglect it ; and from step to step
it will lead to scepticism, atheism, and at length to bar
barity. §11. Concerning common sense, it is to be observed,
that common inclination, or the common dictates of in
clination, are often called common sense. When any
thing is shocking to the common dispositions or inclina
tions of men, that is called a contradicting of common
sense. So, the doctrine of the extreme and everlasting-
torments of hell, being contrary to men's common folly
and stupidity, is often called contrary to common sense.
Men, through stupidity, are insensible of the great evil
of sin ; and so the punishment of sin threatened in the
word of God disagrees with this insensibility, and it is
said to be contradictory to common sense. In this case,
that turn of mind which arises from a wicked disposition,
goes for common sense.
" We ought never to deny, oecause we cannot conceive.
If this were not so, then a man born blind would reason
right, when he forms this syllogism, ' We know the
figure of bodies only by handling them ; but it is im
possible to handle them at a great distance ; therefore, it
is impossible to know the figure of far distant bodies.'
To undeceive the blind man, we may prove to him that

CONCERNING THE MYSTERIES OF THE SCRIPTURE.

497

this is so, from the concurrent testimony of all who sur
round him. But we can never make him perceive how
this is so. It is therefore a fundamental maxim in all
true philosophy, that many things may be incomprehen
sible, and yet demonstrable; that though seeing clearly
be a sufficient reason for affirming, yet, not seeing at all,
can never be a reason for denying." Ramsay's Philoso
phical Principles of Religion, vol. i. p. 22, 23.
§12. One method used to explode everything in re
ligion that is in the least difficult to the understanding, is
to ridicule all distinctions in religion. The unreasonable-
' ness of this may appear from what Mr. Locke observes
concerning discerning and judgment. Hum. Underst.
book ii. chap. 2. " Accurately discriminating ideas one
from another, is of that consequence to the other know
ledge of the mind, that, so far as this faculty is in itself
dull, or not rightly made use of, for distinguishing one
thing from another, so far our notions are confused, and
our reason and judgment disturbed or misled. If in
having ideas in the memory ready at hand, consists
quickness of parts ; in this, of having them unconfused,
and being able nicely to distinguish one thing from
another, where there is but the least difference, consists in
a great measure the exactness of judgment, and clearness
of reason, which is to be observed in one man above
another. Judgment lies in separating carefully one from
another ideas wherein can be found the least difference,
thereby to avoid being misled by similitude, and by
affinity to take one thing for another."
So Dr. Turnbull, in his Principles of Moral Philosophy,
part i. chap. 3. p. 94. " Judgment is rightly said to lie in
nicely distinguishing the disagreements and variances or
differences of ideas ; those especially which lie more
remote from common observation, and are not generally
adverted to. The man of judgment or discretion (for so
discretion properly signifies) may be defined to be one
who has a particular aptitude to descry differences of all
kinds between objects, even the most hidden and remote
from vulgar eyes.
§ 13. If any respect to the Divine Being is of impor
tance, then speculative points are of importance ; for the
only way whereby we know what he is, is by speculation.
—If our doctrines concerning him are not right, it will
not be that Being, but some other, that we have respect
• for. So it may be said concerning our respect for Christ.
If our doctrines concerning him, concerning his divinity,
for instance, are false, we have not respect for the Christ
of whom the Scriptures speak, but for an imaginary person,
infinitely diverse. When it is said by some, that the only
fundamental article of faith is, that Jesus is the Messiah ;
if thereby be meant, that a person called by that name, or
that lived at such a time or place, was the Messiah, that
name not implying any properties or qualities of his
person, the doctrine is exceedingly unreasonable ; for
surely the name and the place are not of so great impor
tance as some other things essential in his person, and
have not so great concern iu the identity of the object of
our ideas and respect, as the person the gospel reveals. It
is one great reason why speculative points are thought to
be of so little importance, that the modern religion consists
so little in respect to the Divine Being, and almost wholly
in benevolence to men.
§ 14. Concerning what is often said by some, that all
things necessary to salvation are plain and clear, let us
consider how, and in what sense, this is true, and in what
sense it is not true. 1st, It is true, that all things neces
sary to salvation are clearly and plainly revealed. But it
does not follow, that they shall appear to be plainly
revealed to all men. No divine thing can have evidence
sufficient to appear evident to all men, however great their
prejudices, and however perverse their dispositions.
2_/y, If thereby is meant, that all things necessary to be
believed are easily comprehended, there is no reason in
such an assertion, nor is it true.
Some late writers insist, that, for a thing to be revealed,
and yet remain mysterious, is a contradiction ; that it is
as much as to say, a thing is revealed, and yet hid. I
answer : The thing revealed is the truth of the doctrine ;
so that the truth of it no longer remains hid, though many
things concerning the manner may be so. Yet many
vol. ir. 2 k

things concerning the nature of the things revealed may be
clear, though many other things concerning their nature may
remain hid. God requires us to understand no more than
is intelligibly revealed. That which is not distinctly
revealed, we are not required distinctly to understand. It
may be necessary for us to know a thing in part, and yet
not necessary to know it perfectly.
§ 15. The importance of all christian doctrines whatso
ever, will naturally be denied, in consequence of denying
that one great doctrine of the necessity of Christ's satis
faction to divine justice, and maintaining those doctrines
that establish men's own righteousness, as that on which,
and for which, they are accepted of God. For that
great christian doctrine of Christ's satisfaction, his vicari
ous sufferings and righteousness, by which he offered an
infinite price to God for our pardon and acceptance to
eternal favour and happiness, is that to which all evangeli
cal doctrines, all doctrines beside the truths of natural
religion, have relation ; and they are of little importance,
comparatively, any other way, than as they have respect
to that. This is, as it were, the centre and hinge of all
doctrines of pure revelation.
§ 16. Indeed, the papists, who are very far from having
such a notion of that evangelical faith, which is the special
condition of salvation in opposition to works, and have
forsaken the evangelical notion of true saving religion, yet
with fiery zeal, insist on the profession of a great number
of doctrines, and several ofthe doctrines of pure revelation,
as the Trinity, &c. But this in them flows not from any
regard to their influence in internal saving religion, but
from quite another view, i. e. to uphold their tyranny.
These are the doctrines which have been handed down
among them by their church from ancient tradition ; and,
to maintain the credit of the infallibility, and divine
authority and dominion, of their hierarchy over men's
faith, they must be zealous against any that presume to
deny Christ's doctrines, because they look upon it as an
infringement on the high authority they claim. And some
protestants have a zeal for doctrines from like views;
doctrines indeed for which they have no great value, in
themselves considered.
§ 17. That it is not alone sufficient to believe this one
article, that a person of the name of Jesus came from God
to reveal his will to man, without knowing or determining
what he was, or concerning his nature and qualities, is
evident from this, that it is often spoken of as necessary
to know Christ. It is said, " This is eternal life, to know
thee, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent."
§ 18. There are two things especially that make modem
fashionable divines look on doctrines of revealed religion
of little importance. One is, their mistake about the con
ditions of salvation ; another is, their mistake about the
nature of true virtue, placing it chiefly, and most essential
ly, in benevolence to men, and so little in respect to God
and Christ. If christian virtue consists very much in a
proper respect to Christ, then certainly it is of great impor
tance to know what sort of person he is, at least, as to
that particular wherein his excellency or worthiness of re
gard consists, which is surely his divinity, if he be a di
vine person. Another thing on which a proper respect to
him depends, is his relation to us, and our dependence
upon him ; which surely chiefly depends on his satisfac
tion and merits for us, if he has satisfied and merited for
us. The reasons or grounds of the love and honour to
Christ required of us, consist chiefly in two things : (1.)
In what he is : and, (2.) In what he has done for us.—
Therefore, with regard to the latter, it concerns us greatly
to know, at least as to the principal things, what they are.
And if he has satisfied for our sins ; if he has suffered in
our stead ; if he has truly purchased eternal life and hap
piness for us ; if he has redeemed us from an extremely sin
ful, miserable, helpless state, a state wherein we deserved
no mercy, but eternal misery ; then these are principal
things. Another reason why doctrines are thought to be of little
importance, is a notion of sincerity wherein true virtue
consists, as what may be prior to any means of it that
God grants ; as if it was what every man had in his power,
antecedently to all means ; and so the means are looked
upon as of little importance. But the absurdity of this

498

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part II.

may be easily manifested. If it be independent of all
means, then it may be independent of natural information,
or of the truths of the light of nature, as well as of# re
vealed religion ; and men may sincerely regard and honour
they know not what. The truths of natural religion,
wherein Christians differ from the most ignorant, brutish
idolaters, the most savage and cruel of the heathen na
tions, may be of little importance. And the reason why
they have this notion of sincerity antecedent to means,
and so independent on means, is, that they have a notion
that sincerity is independent on God, any otherwise than
as they depend on him for their creation. They conceive
it to be independent on his sovereign will and pleasure.
If they were sensible that they depend on God to give
it according to his pleasure, it would be easy and natural
to acknowledge, that God gives it in his own way, and by
his own means.
§ 19. If any article of faith at all conceming Jesus
Christ be of importance, it must be of importance to know
or believe something concerning his person ; what sort of
a person or being he was. And if any thing concerning
him be of impoi'tance to be known and believed, it must
be something wherein his excellency or worthiness of re
gard consists ; for nothing can be of importance to be
known or believed about him, but in order to some regard
or respect of heart. But most certainly, if any thing of
his excellency and dignity be of importance to be known
or believed, it must be of impoi'tance at least to know so
much about him, as lo know whether he be God or a mere
creature ; for herein lies the greatest difference, as to dig
nity, that can possibly be. This difference is infinite.
If it be of importance to know how worthy he is, then it
doubtless is of importance that we should not be ignorant
of, and deny, as it were, all his dignity, or so much of it,
that what remains shall be absolutely as nothing to that
which is denied. It is of importance that we love Christ,
or have respect to him as one that is excellent, and worthy
of esteem and love. The apostle says, " If any man love
not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema marana-
tha." And doubtless, true love to Christ is in some respect
suitable to the worthiness and excellency of his person. —
Therefore it is of importance to believe, and not to deny,
those doctrines which exhibit his worthiness. It is of
importance that we do not in effect deny the whole of his
worthiness. § 20. How many things were believed by the ancient
philosophers about divine matters, even the most rational
of them, more mysterious than the doctrine of the Trinity,
chiefly because such things were handed to them by the
Phoenicians, Egyptians, Chaldeans, or Persians, or on the
authority of some great master ! Yet these things were
imbibed without much difficulty, the incomprehensible-
ness of the doctrines being no objection to their receiving
them. § 21. There are things evidently true concerning the
nature of our own souls, that seem strange paradoxes, and
are seeming contradictions ; as, that our souls are in no
place, and yet have a being ; or, if they are supposed to
be in a place, that yet they are not confined to place, and
limited to certain space ; or, if they be, that they are not
of a certain figure ; or, if they are figurative, that their pro
perties, faculties, and acts, should or should not be so too.
§ 22. If many things we all see and know of the mor
tality of mankind, the extreme sufferings of infants, and
other things innumerable in the state of the world of man
kind, were only matter of doctrine which we had no no
tice of any other way than by revelation, and not by fact
and experience ; have we not reason to think, from what
we see of the temper of this age, that they would be ex
ceedingly quarrelled with, objected mightily against, as in
consistent with God's moral perfections, not tending to
amiable ideas of the Godhead, &c. ?
§ 23. The definition of a mystery, according to Stap
ferus, Theol. Polem. p. 263, and 858. is this : A mystery
is a religious doctrine, which must be made known by
immediate revelation, and cannot be known and demon
strated from the principles of reason, but is above reason,
and which in this whole universe has nothing like itself,
but differs from all those truths which we discover in this
system of the world.— (Ibid. p. 859.) It appears from

this definition, that whatever is known by divine revelation,
and is not certain from the principles of reason, is a mys
tery ; otherwise it could not be said to be revealed. Mys
teries are the first things which we conceive concerning
revelation; for no revelation can be conceived without
mysteries, and therefore they constitute thesum and essence
of revelation.
§ 24. It is to be observed, that we ought to distinguish
between those things which were written in the sacred
books by the immediate inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and
those which were only committed to writing by the direc
tion of the Holy Spirit. To the former class belong all
the mysteries of salvation, or all those things which re
spect the means of our deliverance taught in the gospel,
which could not be known from the principles of reason,
and therefore must be revealed. But to the other class
those things belong, which either are already known from
natural religion, but are of service to inculcate duty on
man, and to demonstrate the necessity of revealed means
of salvation ; or are histories, useful to illustrate and to
assure us of the doctrines revealed, and which point out
the various degrees of revelation, the different dispensations
of salvation, and the various modes of governing the church
of God ; all which are necessary to be known in the fur
ther explanation of mysteries.
§ 25. Mysteries constitute the criterion of divine reve
lation : so absurdly do they act, who allow a revelation,
and deny mysteries ; or deny revelation for this reason,
that it contains mysteries. What the sum and essence of
revealed religion are, is plain from the end of it, which is
to point out to sinful man the means of obtaining salvation,
and of recovering the divine favour. But this is, that
Jesus Christ is the only and most perfect cause of salva
tion, to be received by a true faith. This doctrine, however,
is a mystery of godliness manifestly great ; 1 Tim. iii. 16.
And thus that great mystery constitutes the sum and es
sence of revelation. The essence of revealed religion con
sists in this, that men by a true faith receive this doctrine,
which the apostle calls a mystery manifestly great. There
fore, the knowledge of the greatest mystery belongs to the
very essence of the religion of a sinner. How absurd do
many of the doctrines of mathematicians and astronomers
appear to ignorant men, when they cannot see the reason
of those doctrines, although they are most true and evident,
so that not the least doubt concerning them can remain in
the mind of a thorough mathematician ! (Ibid. torn. iii.
p. 560.)
§ 26. Since, in religion, there are some primary truths,
and others more remote, which are deduced from the for
mer by reasoning, and so are secondary — and these last
may not be known, though the primary are known, but
when once they are known they cannot be denied — it fol
lows, that those articles which constitute religion, and so
are fundamental, are to be distinguished into primary and
secondary. The primary are those of which a man cannot
be ignorant, consistently with true religion and his own
salvation ; and they are necessarv with a necessity of
means. The secondary are those of which a man may be
ignorant, consistently with his resting upon the foundation
of true religion, and with his own salvation ; and those are
necessary with a necessity of command. Therefore, to the
same man, certain doctrines may be now fundamental,
which were not fundamental to him before he knew them.
(Ibid. torn. i. p. 524, 525.)
Joh. Chr. Kirchmejerus, in his Dissert, concerning fun
damental articles, says, " They may be either reduced to
fewer, or extended to more ; as often one article may in
clude the rest, and so all may be reduced to that one ; and,
on the other hand, that one, according to the various truths
contained in it, may be divided into several. Therefore,
authors do not contradict themselves, who reduce all fun
damental articles to one ; for they cannot well be determin
ed by their number ; because as many fundamental truths
are contained in one fundamental truth, as there are essen
tial properties belonging to the truths thus contained.
Therefore the Holy Scripture often sums up all funda
mental articles in one, as in John xvii. 3. ' This is life
eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and
Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.' Sometimes it dis
tinguishes them into several; as in 1 Tim. i. 5. ' Now

CONCERNING THE DEITY OF CHRIST.

499

the end of the commandment is charity, out of a pure
heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned.' "
(Ibid. torn. i. p. 528.)
S 27. On account ofthe various degrees of men's capa
cities, and the various circumstances of the times in which
they live, one man may know truths which another can
not know. Whence it follows, that the very same articles
are not fundamental to all men ; but accordingly as re
velation bath been more or less complete, according to
the several dispensations under which men have lived,
their various natural abilities, and their various modes and
circumstances of living, different articles are, and have
been, fundamental to different men. This is very plain
from the different degrees of knowledge before and since
the coming of Christ ; for before his coming, many truths
lay hid, which are now set in the most clear light : and
the instance of the apostles, abundantly shows the truth of
what I have now advanced; who, although they were
already in a state of grace, and their salvation was secured,

yet for some time were ignorant of the necessity of the
sufferings and death of Christ, and of the true nature of his
kingdom. Whereas, he who now does not acknowledge
the necessity of Christ's death, is by all means to be con
sidered as in fundamental error. Therefore, as a man hath
received of God greater or less natural abilities, so let the
number of articles to which he shall give his assent be
greater or smaller ; and as revelation hath been made, or
information hath been given, to a man, more clearly or ob
scurely, in the same proportion is' more or less required of
him. Therefore, in our own case, we ought to be cautious
of even the smallest errors, and to aim at the highest de
gree of knowledge in divine truths. In the case of others,
we ought to judge concerning them with the greatest pru
dence, rnildness, and benevolence. Hence we see, that a
certain precise number of articles, which shall be necessary
and fundamental to every man, cannot be determined.
(Ibid. p. 531.)

PART III.

OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST AND THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY.

§ 1. If the temptation to the children of Israel wassogreat,
to idolize the brazen serpent, a lifeless piece of brass, for
the temporal salvation which some of their forefathers had
by looking on it ; how great would be their temptation to
idolatry by worshipping Christ, if he were a mere crea
ture, from whom mankind receive so great benefits ! If
that brazen serpent must be broken in pieces, to remove
the temptation to idolatry, 2 Kings xviii. 4. shall so great
a temptation be laid before the world to idolize a mere
creature, by setting him forth in the manner that he is set
forth in Scripture ?
§ 2. Must Moses's body be concealed, lest the children
of Israel should worship the remains of him whom God
made the instrument of such great things ? And shall
another mere creature — whom men, on account of the
works he has done, are under infinitely greater temptation
to worship— be most openly and publicly exhibited, as ex
alted to heaven, seated at God's own right hand, made Head
over all things, Ruler of the universe, &c. in the manner
that Christ is ? Was not this tlie temptation to all nations
to idolatry, viz. That men had been distinguished as great
conquerors, deliverers, and the instruments of great bene
fit ? And shall God make a mere creature the instrument
of so many greater benefits, and in such a manner as
Christ is represented to be in the Scripture, without an in
finitely greater temptation to idolatry ?
§ 3. When the rich young man called Christ Good
Master,not supposing him to be God, did Christ reject it,
and reprove him for calling him so ? He said, " There is
none good but one, that is God;" meaning, that none
other was possessed of goodness that was to be trusted.
And yet, shall this same Jesus, if indeed not that God who
only is to be called good, or trusted in as such, be called in
Scripture, He that is holy ; He that is true ? the Amen,
the faithful and true Witness? the Mighty God, the
Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace ? the blessed and
the only Potentate ; the King of kings, and Lord of
lords ? the Lord of life, that has life in himself, that all
men might honour the Son, as they honour the Father?
the Wisdom of God, and the Power of God ? the Alpha
and Omega, the beginning and the end ? God, Jehovah ;
Elohim, the King of glory ? Compare Isa. xiii. 8. Ps.
bttvii. 18. Isa. xiv. 20, 21, &c. "They pray unto a God
that cannot save — Tell ye and bring them near ; let them
take counsel together — There is no God else beside me, a
just God and a Saviour ; there is none beside me." Yet
it is said of Christ, that " He is able to save unto the
uttermost." Yea, the Messiah, in this very book, is spoken
* See also Hos. viii. 4. See also Isa. xlix. 26. and Ix. 16. Deut. xxxiii.
2 K 2

of as mighty to save-; saving by his own arm, and by the
greatness of his strength, Isa. lxiii. 1 — 6. compared with
Rev. xiv. 15. And it is evident, that it is his character,
in the most eminent manner, to be the Saviour of God's
people; and that with respect to what is infinitely the
highest and greatest work of salvation ; the greatest de
liverance from the most dreadful evil, from the greatest,
worst, and strongest enemies, and bringing them to the
greatest happiness. It follows, Isaiah xiv. 22. " Look
unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth ; for
I am God, and there is none else." Here it is spoken of
as the great glory of God, and peculiar to him, that he is
a universal Saviour, not only of the Jews, but of all
nations. And this is the peculiar character of Jesus. He
is the Saviour of all nations. The glory of calling and
saving the Gentiles, is represented as peculiarly belonging
to him ; so that he has this divine prerogative, which is
spoken of here as belonging to the one only God, and to
none else. And, which is more than all this, these very
things are applied to Christ in the New Testament, Philip.
ii. 10, 11. " That at the name of Jesus every knee should
bow, of things in heaven, of things in earth, and things
under the earth." And the thing spoken of in the fol
lowing verses, as the peculiar prerogative of God, in
distinction from all other beings, as the only Saviour,
viz. having righteousness, and being justified in him,
are every where in the New Testament most eminently
ascribed to Christ, as in a most special manner belong
ing to him.
§ 4. Being the Saviour of God's people, is every where
in the Old Testament mentioned as the peculiar work of
the Deity. The heathens are reproached for worshipping
gods that could not save ; and God says to the idolatrous
Israelites, " Go to the gods whom ye have served, let them
deliver you." See Isaiah xliii. 3, 10 — 15. in which verses
we have another clear demonstration of the divinity of
Christ.* Trusting is abundantly represented as a principal
thing in that peculiar respect due to God alone, as of the
essence of divine adoration due to no other than God. And
yet, how is Christ represented as the peculiar object of the
faith and trust of all God's people, of all nations, as having
all-sufficiency for them ? Trusting in any other is greatly
condemned ; is a thing, than which nothing is represented
as more dangerous, provoking to God, and bringing his
curse on man.
§5. And how often is being the Redeemer of God's peo
ple spoken of as the peculiar character of the mighty God
of Jacob, the First and Last, the Lord of hosts, the only
29. Jer. iii. 23 Jonah ii, 8, 9. Psalm iii. 8. Isa. xxv. 9.

500

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part III.

God, the Holv One of Israel ! (So Isa. xii. 14. xliii. 14.
xliv. 6, 24. xlvii. 4. xlviii. 17. xlix. 7, 26. liv. 5. and lx. 16)
And it may be observed, that when God has this title of
the Redeemer qf Israel ascribed to him in those places, it
is joined with some other of the peculiar and most exalted
names and titles of the most high God : such as, the
Holy One of Israel; (so Isa. xii. 14. xliii. 14. xlvii. 4.
xlviii. 17. and xlix. 7.) The Mighty One of Jacob,
(chap. xlix. 26. and lx. 10.) The Lord of hosts, (Isa.
xlvii. 4. and xliv. 6.) The God of the whole earth, (chap.
liv. 5.) The First and the Last, besides whom there is no
God, (xliv. 6.) The Jehovah that maketh all things, that
stretcheth forth the heavens alone, and spreadeth abroad
the earth by himself, (ver. 34.) Yet the Messiah, in this
very book, is spoken of as the Redeemer of God's people
in the most eminent manner, (chap, lxiii. 1 — 6.)
§ 6. God is careful that his people should understand,
that their honour and love and praise for the redemption
out of Egypt, belongs only to him, and therefore is careful
to inform them, that he alone redeemed them out of Egypt,
and that there was no other God with him ; and to make
use of that as a principal argument why they should have
no other gods before him. (See Deut. xxxii. 12. Exod.
xx. 3. Psal. lxxxi. 8, 9, 10. Hos. xiii. 4.) The words in
that place are remarkable: " Yet I am the Lord thy God
from the land of Egypt ; and thou shalt know no God
but me ; for there is no Saviour besides me." If God
insisted on that as a good reason why his people should
know no God besides him, that he alone was their Saviour
to save them out of Egypt; would he afterwards appoint
another to be their Saviour in an infinitely greater sal
vation ?
§ 7. The works of creation being ascribed to Christ,
most evidently prove his proper divinity. For God de
clares, that he is Jehovah that stretcheth forth the heavens
alone, and spreadeth abroad the earth by himself, Isa. xliv.
24. (See also the next chapter, xiv. 5 — -7, 12.) And not only
is the creation ofthe world ascribed to Christ often in Scrip
ture, but that which in Isaiah is called the new creation,
which is here represented as an immensely greater and
more glorious work than the old creation, viz. the work of
redemption, as this prophet himself explains it, (Isa. lxv.
17, 18, 19.) is every where, in a most peculiar and distin
guishing manner, ascribed to Christ. 2 Peter i. 1.
" Through the righteousness of God and our Saviour Je
sus Christ: El* oiKaioo vvn rov Oea nfJttov Kai _ _TUpor Incrou Xplo-TOU.
Tit. ii. 13. " Looking for the blessed hope and glorious ap
pearing of the great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ ;"
t» p.efa\a eea Kai aampos in<™ Xpi.T_. It is agreeable to the
manner of the apostle's expressing himself in both places,
to intend one and the same person, viz. Christ, under
two titles : as when speaking of God the Father, in Eph.
i. 3. " Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ." J eeoncai ,r_T,,p. See Dr. Goodwin's Works, vol. i.
p. 93,94.
§ 8. That passage in Isaiah xl. 13, 14. " Who hath
directed the Spirit of the Lord?" proves Christ's divinity;
for Christ directs the Spirit of ihe Lord. See John xvi.
13 — 15. and many other places. Compare the following
texts, set in opposite columns : those in the first column
are represented as belonging to God only, which yet, in
the second column, are given to Christ.

The name GOD.

Isaiah xiv. 5.
 xliv. 8.
 xlvi. 9.

John i. 1.
Heb. i. 8.
Rom. ix. 5.

The name JEHOVAH.

Psalm cii. 25, &c.
Zech. xi. 12.
Zech. xii. 10.
Isaiah xl. 3.
Hos. i. 7.

Heb. i. 10.
Matt, xxvii. 9, 10.
John xix. 37.
Mark i. 3.
Luke ii. 11.

* See Waterland's answer to some queries.
T See Psalm xciii. 1. xcvi. 10. xcvii. at the beginning, and xcix. 1.

Divine Perfections.

1 Kings viii. 39.
Jer. xvii. 10.
Isaiah xliv. C.
Rev. i. 8.
1 Tim. vi. 15.
Isaiah x. 21.
Rom. x. 12.
Psalm xc. 2.

John ii. 24. xvi. 30. Ac.i.24.
Rev. ii. 3.
Rev. i. 17.
Rev. xxii. 13.
Rev. xvii. 14. and xix. 16.
Isaiah ix. 6.
Acts x. 36. Rom. ix. 5.
Prov. viii. 22, &c.

Neh. ix. 6.
Gen. i. 1.

Divine Works. John i.
Heb. i.
Divine Worship.

3. Col.i. 16, 17.
10.

Exod. xx. 3.
Mat. iv. 10. and Gal. iv. 8.

Heb. i. 6.
John v. 23*

§ 9. If Christ in the beginning created the heavens and
the earth, he must be from eternity ; for then he is before
the beginning, by which must be meant, the beginning of
time ; the beginning of that kind of duration which has
beginning and following, before and after, belonging to it.
The beginning of created existence, or, the beginning ofthe
creation which God created, as the phrase is, Mark iii. 19.
In Proverbs viii. 22. it is said, " The Lord possessed me
before his works of old ;" and therefore before those works
which in Genesis i. 1 . are said to be made in the beginning.
God's eternity is expressed thus, Psalm xc. 2. " Before the
mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst created
the earth and the world, even from everlasting." So it is
said, Prov. viii. 22, &c. " The Lord possessed me in the
beginning of his way, before his works of old. I was set
up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth
was," &c.
§ 10. That the kingdom of the Messiah is so commonly
called the kingdom qf heaven, is an evidence that the
Messiah is God. By the kingdom of heaven is plainly
meant a kingdom wherein God doth reign, or is King.
The phrase, the kingdom of heaven, seems to be prin
cipally taken from Dan. ii. 14. " And in the days of these
kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom ;" where
the meaning plainly is, after the heads of those four great
monarchies have each one had their turn, and erected king
doms for themselves in their turn, and the last monarchy
shall be divided among ten kings ; finally, the God of
heaven shall take the dominion from them all, and shall
set up a kingdom for himself. He shall take the kingdom,
and shall rule for ever. In this book, chap. iv. 26. it is
said, "After that thou shalt have known that the heavens
do rule." The words in the foregoing verse express what
is meant : " Until thou know that the Most E-gh ruleth
in the kingdom of men." Therefore, by the kingdom of
heaven which shall be set up, is meant the kingdom
wherein God himself shall be the king ; not as reigning
and administering by other kings or judges, as he was
king in the time of the judges, and in the time of David
and Solomon, Hezekiah and Josiah, &c. and as he always
doth in the time of good kings : but he shall set up am
kingdom, in distinction from all kingdoms or states, wherein
the heavens shall rule, or God himself shall be king. And
therefore the kingdom of heaven is often called the king
dom of God, in the New Testament. And it is abund
antly prophesied in the Old Testament, that in the days
of the Messiah, God shall take to himself the kingdom,
and shall reign as king, in contradistinction to other reign
ing subordinate beings. And that God himself shall
reign on earth, as king among his people, is abundantly
manifested from many prophecies.-! And in this very pro
phecy of Daniel, chap. vii. where this kingdom, which the
Lord of heaven should at last set up, (plainly this same
kingdom,) is more fully spoken of, it is manifest, that the
Messiah is to be the king in that kingdom, who shall

Isa. xxxiii. 22.
2, 3.

Isa. xl. 9, 10, II. Zeph. UI 14, 15. MaL iii.

CONCERNING THE DEITY OF CHRIST.

501

reign as vested with full power, and complete kingly au
thority* §11. God is several times called in Scripture, the Glory
qf Israel, or of God's people ; and it is a title peculiar to
him, wherein he appears as especially distinguished from
false gods, Jer. ii. 1 1 . " Hath a nation changed their gods,
which yet are no gods ? but my people have changed
their glory for that which doth not profit." Psal. cvi. 20.
" Thus they changed their glory into the similitude of an
ox that eateth grass." But we find that Christ in the
New Testament is spoken of as " the glory of God's
people Israel." Luke ii. 23.
§ 12. What is said in Job xix. 25 — 27. "For I know
that my Redeemer liveth," &c. is a proof of the divinity
of Christ. For here, he whom Job calls his Redeemer,
his God, is God; "Yet in my flesh shall I see God."
But it is very manifest, that Christ is he who is most
properly and eminently our Redeemer or God : And here
Job says, that God shall stand at the latter day, at the
general resurrection, on the earth ; when he shall see him
in his flesh. But the person that shall then stand on the
earth, we know, is no other than Jesus Christ. And how
often, in other places, both in the Old Testament and the
New, is Christ s coming to judgment spoken of as God's
coming to judgment ! Christ's appearing, as God's appear
ing ! and our standing before the judgment-seat of Christ,
as our standing before God's judgment-seat !
§ 13. Luke i. 16, 17. "And many of the children of
Israel shall he turn to the Lord their God ; and he shall
go before him in the spirit and power of Elias, to turn the
hearts of fathers to the children, and of the disobedient to
the wisdom of the just ; to make ready a people prepared
for the Lord." Here John the Baptist is spoken of as
going before the Lord, the God of the children of Israel,
to prepare his way ; agreeably to the prophecies ; parti
cularly Mai. iii. 1. and iv. 5, 6. But who is this person
who is called the Lord, the God of Israel, whose fore
runner, John the Baptist, is to prepare his way ? Nothing
is more manifest, than that it is Jesus Christ. See Mark
i. 1 — 3. "The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ,
the Son of God : as it is written in the prophets, Behold,
I send my messenger before thy face, who shall prepare
thy way before thee. The voice of one crying in the
wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his
paths straight," (alluding to two prophecies, viz. Mai. iii.
1. and Isa. xl. 3.) Here is a distinction of two persons;
the one speaking in the first person singular, " Behold, I
send my messenger ; " the other spoken to in the second
person, "before thy face, which shall prepare thy way
before thee;" which makes it evident that the person
spoken of, and whose forerunner he was to prepare his
way, was Jesus Christ. So Matt. xi. 10. Luke vii. 27.
See also how manifest this is by John i. 19. "And this is
the record of John." Verse 23. "I am the voice of one
crying in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the
Lord, as said the prophet Esaias ; " with the following
verses, especially ver. 31. "And I know him not, but that
he should be made manifest to Israel : therefore am I
come baptizing with water." So that it is evident, that
Christ is he that in the 1 st of Luke is called the Lord, or,
Jehovah the God of Israel, as the phrase is in the original
of the Old Testament, in places from whence this phrase is
taken. Therefore it is evident, that Christ is one God
with the Father ; for the Scripture is very express, that
Jehovah, the God of Israel, is but one Jehovah ; as,
Deut. vi. 4. " Hear, O Israel, Jehovah our God is one
Jehovah." § 14. And if we look into those prophecies of the Old
Testament referred to in these places of the evangelists,
it is manifest, that what they foretell concerns a forerunner
to prepare the way for the only true and supreme God ;
as, Isa. xl. 3. "The voice of him that crieth in the wil
derness, Prepare ye the way of Jehovah ; make straight in
the desert a high way for our God." This is evidently the
same that is spoken of in the following parts of the chap
ter ; as in verse 9, and following verses : " Say unto the
cities of Judah, Behold your God; behold, Jehovah God
will come. — He shall feed his flock like a shepherd.— Who
* See also Dan. Ix. 25. Gen. xlix. Psalms ii. ex. lxxxix. and xiv.
Isa. ix. and xi. Zech. vi. Jer. xxiii. 5. xxx. 9. and xxxiii. 15. Ezek.

hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and
meted out heaven with a span, and comprehended the
dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains
in scales, and the hills in a balance ? Who hath directed
the Spirit of the Lord, or, being his counsellor, hath taught
him ? With whom took he counsel, and who instructed
him, and taught him in the path of judgment ? Behold,
the nations are as a drop of the bucket, and are counted
as the small dust of the balance. Behold, he taketh up
the isles as a very little thing. And Lebanon is not suf
ficient to burn, nor the beasts thereof sufficient for a
burnt-offering. All nations before him are as nothing, and
they are counted to him less than nothing and vanity. To
whom then will ye liken God ? or what likeness will ye
compare unto him ?" — Ver. 22. "It is he that sitteth on
the circle of the earth, and all the inhabitants thereof are
as grasshoppers ; that stretcheth out the heavens as a
curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in ; that
bringeth the princes to nothing, and maketh the judges of
the earth as vanity." — If the supreme God is not spoken
of here, where shall we find the place where he is spoken
of? If it be an infinitely inferior being, where is God's
distinguishing greatness, and infinitely superior magnifi
cence? It here follows, ver. 25. "To whom then will ye
liken me, or shall I be equal ? saith the Holy One." A
created being would not use such language, or make such
a challenge. He that is created himself would not say,
as it follows in the next verse, " Lift up your eyes on high ;
behold, who hath created those things ? " So it is evident,
that it is the one only God that is spoken of, whose fore
runner John was to be. Mai. iii. 1 . " Behold, I will send
my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before ME.
And Jehovah, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come into
his temple." Luke i. 76. "And thou, child, shalt be called
the prophet of the Highest, i^isa ; for thou shalt go be
fore the face of the Lord, to prepare his way."
§ 15. It is a great evidence that Christ is one being
with the supreme God, that the Spirit of the supreme
God is spoken of as his Spirit, proceeding from and sent
and directed by him. The Spirit by whom the prophets
of old were inspired, is spoken of as the Spirit of Christ :
1 Pet. i. 11. "Searching what, or what manner of time,
the Spirit of Christ, which was in them, did signify ;
when it testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and
the glory that should follow." But it is very manifest,
that this was the Spirit of the one only living and true
God ; so that we must needs understand, that the word
written by the prophets, is the word of the supreme God.
See 2 Pet. i. 21. 2 Tim. iii. 16. And that they spoke
by inspiration of the Spirit of the supreme God, is mani
fest from Luke i. 69, 70. " And hath raised up an horn
of salvation for us, in the house of his servant David; as
he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets, which have
been since the world began." The word Spirit, in the
original languages, signifies wind, and sometimes is used
to signify breath. Therefore, Christ breathed on his dis
ciples, when he would signify to them that he would
give them the Holy Ghost : John xx. 22. " And when
he had said this, he breathed on them, saying, Receive
ye the Holy Ghost." This plainly leaches us that the
Holy Ghost was his Spirit, as much as man's breath is his
breath. Again, it is evident, that the Spirit of God is the Spirit
of Christ, as much as a person's eyes are his own eyes.
Rev. v. 6. " And I beheld, and lo in the midst of the
throne stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having seven
horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God
sent forth into all the earth." Alluding to Zech. iii. 9.
" Upon one stone shall be seven eyes." But these seven
eyes, in the next chapter, are spoken of as representing the
Spirit of God, and the eyes of Jehovah : chap. iv. 6.
" Not by might nor power, but by my Spirit, saith the
Lord." Ver. 10. " And shall see the plummet in the
hand of Zerubbabel, with those seven. They are the
eyes of the Lord, which run to and fro though the whole
earth." Christ is spoken of as sending the Holy Ghost, and di
recting him : John xvi. 7. " I will send him unto you."
xxxiv. 23. and xxxvii. 24. Hos. iii. 5. Zech. vi. 12, _c. and in many other
places.

502

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Part III.

Ver. 13, 14, 15. "Howbeit, when he, the Spirit of truth,
is come, he will guide you into all truth, for he shall not
speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall
he speak ; and he shall show you things to come. He
shall glorify me, for he shall receive of mine, and shall
show it unto you. All things that the Father hath are
mine ; therefore said I, that he shall take of mine, and
shall show it unto you." But it is spoken of as the pecu
liar prerogative of God to direct his Spirit. Isa. xl. 13.
" Who hath directed the Spirit of the Lord ?"*
§ 16. It is true, that creatures are sometimes called
god. The kings and judges of God's Israel, the ancient
church, are called gods ; but no otherwise than as types
of Christ. And the angels are called gods. Yet it is very
remarkable, that in that only place where they are so
called by God, they are commanded to worship Christ ;
and in the same verse, a curse is denounced on all such as
are guilty of idolatry. Psalm xcvii. 7. compared with
Heb. i. 6,
§ 17. God so often speaking of himself as a jealous God
—signifying that he will by no means endure any other
husband of his church — affords a clear evidence, that Je
sus Christ is the same God with the Father. For Christ
is often spoken of as that person who is, in the most emi
nent and peculiar manner, the Husband and Bridegroom
of his church. That God who is the Holy One of Israel,
is the Husband of the church, as appears by Isaiah liv. 5.
" Thy Maker is thy Husband, the Lord of hosts is his
name ; and thy Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel." Or,
as the words are, " Thy Goel, the Holy One of Israel."
The goel was the near kinsman, that married the widow
who had lost her husband, as appears by Ruth iii. 9 — 12.
But this Holy One of Israel is the name of that God who
is the Father, as appears by Isaiah xlix. 7. and lv. 5.
and so is the Lord of hosts, as appears by Isaiah xliv. 6.
§ 18. Christ is the Lord mentioned in Rom. x. 13.
" For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord,
shall be saved." That it is Christ who is spoken
of, is evident from the two foregoing verses ; and also from
the 14th. But the words are taken from Joel ii. 32. where
the word translated Lord, is Jehovah. See also 1 Cor. i. 2.
§ 19. And 1 Cor. x. 9. " Neither let us tempt Christ,
as some of them also tempted." By this, it appears, that
Christ was that God, that Holy One of Israel, whom they
tempted in the wilderness. 1 Cor. x. 22. " Do we pro
voke the Lord to jealousy ? are we stronger than he ?" It
is evident, that by the Lord here, is meant Jesus Christ,
as appears by the preceding context ; and that therefore,
he is that being who says, " I the Lord thy God am a
jealous God."
§ 20. Rev. ii. 23. Christ says, " I am he that trieth the
reins and the heart, and will give to every one of you ac
cording to his works." This is said by the Son of God,
as appears by the 18th verse foregoing. Compare this with
other passages of Scripture, where those things are spoken
of as the prerogative of the supreme God. Parallel with
it is John xxi. 17. " Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou
knowest that I love thee."
§ 21. It would be unreasonable to suppose, that there
is one Being infinitely greater than all other beings — so
that all others are as nothing to him, and infinitely beneath
him in power — and yet, that there is no kind of works or
effects of his power, that is peculiar to him, by which he
is greatly distinguished from others. He that appeared
sitting on the throne above the cherubims and wheels in
Ezekiel's visions, (Ezek. i. 27. and other places,) was un
doubtedly Christ ; because he appeared in the shape of a
man, which God the Father never did. " No man hath
seen God, viz. the Father, at any time :" but the person
that there appeared, was undoubtedly God. He is represent
ed as one that has heaven for his throne, and sits as su
preme Ruler of the universe. — This is undoubtedly the
same that rides on the heavens in the help of his people,
and his excellency on the sky ; that rides on the heaven of
heavens by his name Jah, or Jehovah. And this is called
the appearance of the likeness, or image of the glory of the
Lord ; Ezek. i. 28. iii. 23. and viii. 4. This, while it
shows him to be a person truly divine, also shows him to
be Christ. For what can this image of the Lord, with an
« See § 8.

appearance of brightness round about, (ver. 27, 28.) be, but
the same which the apostle speaks of, who is " the bright
ness of God's glory, and the express image of his person?"
And this is evidently the same that sat on the throne in
the temple, which was called the Chariot of the Cheru
bims. And this person is called the God of Israel, Ezek.
x. 20. and the whole that this person says to Ezekiel from
time to time shows, that he is truly God.
§ 22. It is a great evidence of the divinity of Christ,
that the Holy Ghost is so put into subjection to him, as to
become his messenger ; even the Spirit of God, as the
Holy Ghost is often called, or the Spirit ofthe Father, as
he is called, Matt. x. 20. The same that is there called
the Spirit of the Father, is in Mark xiii. 11. called the Holy
Ghost. — Now, certainly, it is unreasonable to suppose,
that the Spirit of the supreme God should be put under
the direction and disposal of a mere creature, one infinitely
below God. The only evasion here, must be this, that the
Holy Ghost is also a created Spirit inferior to the Son.
For if Christ be a mere creature, it would be unreasonable
to suppose that he should have the Spirit of God sub
jected to him, on any other supposition, whether the Spirit
of God be supposed to be only the power and energy of
the Most High, or a superior created Spirit. But how
does the Holy Ghost, being a creature inferior to the Son,
consist with Christ's being conceived by the power of the
Holy Ghost ? and his being honoured by having the Holy
Ghost descending upon him ? and being anointed with it,
and working his greatest miracles by the power ofthe Holy
Ghost? and its being a great honour done to Christ, that
the Spirit was given to him not by measure ? Besides, the
Holy Ghost being a creature, not only infinitely inferior to
God, but inferior to the Son, is exceedingly inconsistent
with almost every thing said of the Holy Spirit in Scrip
ture : as, his being called the Power of the highest; his
searching all things, even the deep things of God, and
knowing the things of God in the most distinguishing
manner, as the spirit of man wilhin him knows the things
of a man ; the Scriptures being the word of God, as it is
the word ofthe Holy Ghost; Christians being the temple
of the living God, as they are the temple of the Holy
Ghost ; lying unto the Holy Ghost being called lying unto
God ; the chief works of God being ascribed to the Holy
Ghost, as the works of creation, and the forming of man
in the womb. (Eccles. xi. 5. Job xxxiii. 4.) Giving the
highest sort of wisdom, viz. spiritual understanding ; form
ing the human nature of Christ; being the author of rege
neration and sanctification ; creating a new heart, and so
being the author of the new creation, which is spoken of
as vastly greater than the old.
Blasphemy against the Father is pardonable ; but not
against the Holy Ghost. It is unreasonable to suppose
that only the body of Christ was made by the Holy Ghost.
It is evident, that the whole human nature, the holy thing
that was born of the virgin, was by the Holy Ghost ; Luke
i. 35. But the Son of the virgin was a holy thing, espe
cially with regard to his soul. The soul of Adam was
from the Spirit of God, from God's breathing into him the
breath of life. But this breath of life signifies the Spirit of
God, as appears by Christ's breathing on his disciples after
his resurrection, saying, " Receive ye the Holy Ghost."
The Spirit of God is called the breath of God; Job
xxxiii. 4. " The Spirit of God hath made me ; the breath
of the Almighty hath given me life." If God's Spirit gives
life to other men, or mankind in general, doubtless he
gave life to Adam. And if that Spirit of God which gives
life to mankind in general, be, in doing that work, called
the breath of God ; we may well suppose, that when we
find that which gave life and soul to Adam, called God's
breath, thereby was meant God's Spirit.
§ 23. How unreasonable must our notions be of the
creation of the world, on Arian principles ! For it is
manifest by the Scripture, that the world was made by
the Spirit of God, as well as by the Son of God. But the
Son of God is, according to them, a created Spirit ; and
the Spirit of God must therefore also be a created Spirit
inferior to him. — Therefore, we must suppose, that the
Father created the world by the Son, and that the Son did
not create the world by himself, but by (he Spirit of God, as

CONCERNING THE DEITY OF CHRIST.

503

his minister or instrument. So that the Spirit of God
herein must act as the instrument of an instrument !
§ 24. It is evident that the same Word, the same Son
of God, that made the world, also upholds it in being, and
governs it. This is evident, in part, unto reason. For
upholding the world in being, and creating it, are not pro
perly distinct works ; since it is manifest, that upholding
the world in being is the same with a continued creation ;
and consequently, that creating the world is but the be
ginning of upholding it, if I may so say — beginning to
give it a supported and dependent existence — and pre
servation is only continuing to give it such a supported
existence. So that, truly, giving the world a being at first,
no more differs from preserving it through all successive
moments, than giving a being the last moment, differs from
giving a supported being this moment. And the Scripture
is as express, that the world is upheld by Christ, as that
it was created by him; Colos. i. 16, 17. " For by him
were all things created, and by him all things consist."
Heb. i. 2, 3. " By whom also he made the worlds, and
upholding all things by the word of his power." And it
is be that shall bring the world to an end. Heb. i. 10,
11, 12. " Thou, Lord, in the beginning, hast laid the
foundations ofthe earth, &c. They shall perish, but thou
shalt endure. As a vesture shalt thou change them, and
they shall be changed. But thou art the same, and thy
years shall not fail."
But if these things are so, what shall we think of the
upholding and government of the world, while Christ was
in his humbled state, and while an infant, and when we
are told that he was wearied with his journey, and his
strength in some measure spent, only with governing the
motions of his own body ? Who upheld and governed the
world at that time ? Doubtless it will be said, that God
the Father took the world out of the hands of the Son
for that time, to uphold and govern it, and returned it into
his hands again at his exaltation. But is there any ground
to suppose such a mighty change as this, as to the author
of the universe, that it should have such different authors
of its being, and of all its properties, natural principles,
motions, alterations, and events, both in bodies and all
created minds, for three or four and thirty years, from what
it had ever before or since ? Have we any hint of such a
thing ? or have we any revelation of any thing analogous ?
Has God ever taken the work of a creature out of its hands,
according to the ordinary course of things ?
§ 25. The supreme God is doubtless distinguished by
some works or other. As he must be infinitely distin
guished from all other beings in his nature ; so, doubtless,
there are some manifestations or other of this vast superiority
above all other beings. But we can have no other proper
manifestations of the divine nature, but by some effects of
it. The invisible things of God are seen by the things that
are made. The word of God itself is no demonstration of
the superior distinguishing glory of the supreme God, any
otherwise than by his works ; and that two ways : 1. As
we must have the perfections first proved by his works, in
order to know that his word is to be depended on. 2. As
the works of God, appealed to and declared in his word,
make evident that divine greatness and glory which the
word of God declares. There is a difference between de
claration and evidence. The word declares ; but the works
are the proper evidence of what is declared.
Undoubtedly, therefore, the vastly distinguished glory
of the supreme God is manifested by some distinguishing
peculiar works of his. That the supreme God is distin
guished very remarkably and most evidently from all other
beings, by some works or other, is certain by the Scripture.
It is often represented, that he most plainly and greatly
shows his distinguishing majesty, power, and wisdom, and
¦vast superiority to other beings, by his works that are seen,
and set in the view of the children of men. So Psalm
lxxxi. 8. " Among the gods there is none like unto thee,
neither are there any works like unto thy works ;" see also
verse 10. Psalm lxxxix. 5, 8, 9, 10. " The heavens shall
praise thy wonders : — for who in heaven can be compared
to the Lord ? who amongst the sons of the mighty can be
likened unto the Lord ? O Lord of hosts, who is a strong
Lord like unto thee, or to thy faithfulness round about
thee ? Thou rulest the raging of the sea; when the waves

thereof arise, thou stillest them." Deut. iii. 24. " What
God is there in heaven or in earth, that can do according
to thy works, and according to thy might?" Psalm lxxii.
18. " Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who
only doth wondrous things." This is often added to the
declarations of God's works, " That ye may know that I
am the Lord, or that I am Jehovah :" and this, " That ye
may know that there is none like unto me," &c. Exod.
viii. 10, 22. chap. ix. 14, 16. and x. 2. and innumerable
other places.
§ 26. But now, what are these distinguishing works of
God ? or the works by which his distinguishing dignity
and glory are clearly manifested ? What works are they
that can be named or thought of? Is it creating the
world? Or is it the creating of the spiritual, intellectual
world, which undoubtedly is an unspeakably greater work,
than creating the material world ? Is it preserving and
upholding the world? Or is it governing the world?
Or is it REnEMPTioN and salvation ; or at least some par
ticular great salvation? Was it the redemption out of
Egypt, and carrying the people of Israel through the wil
derness, and giving them the possession of Canaan ? Or
is it the greatest work of redemption, even salvation from
spiritual, total, and eternal destruction, and bringing to
eternal holiness and glory ? Is it conversion, regeneration,
restoring a fallen, sinfui creature, and making men new
creatures, giving them holiness, and the image of God ? or
giving wisdom to the heart, the truest and greatest wisdom ?
Is it the conversion of the Gentile world, and renewing the
whole world of mankind, as consisting of Jews and Gen
tiles ? Or is it conquering Satan and all the powers of
darkness, and overcoming all evil, even the strongest holds
of sin and Satan, all God's enemies in their united
strength ? Is it searching the hearts of the children of
men ? Is it working any particular kind of great miracles ?
Is it raising the dead to life, or raising all in general at the
last day ? Is it judging the world, angels and men, in the
last and greatest judgment ? Is it bestowing on the fa
vourites of God, both men and angels, their highest, most
consummate, and eternal glory? Is it destroying the
visible creation, and bringing all to their final period and
consummation, and to their most perfect and eternal state ?
Or, are there any other works greater than these, that can
be thought of, which we can find appealed to as clearly
manifesting the most peculiar and distinguishing glory of
the supreme God, in comparison of whom all other beings
whatsoever are absolutely as nothing ? Yet all these are
ascribed to Christ.
§ 27. The creation of the world in general is often spoken
of as the peculiar work of the supreme God, a work
wherein he manifests his glory as supreme, and distin
guished from all other beings : Rom. i. 19, 20. " Because
that which may be known of God is manifest in them ;
for God hath shown it unto them. For the invisible
things of him from the creation of the world, are clearly
seen, being understood by the things which are made, even
his eternal power and Godhead. Doubtless it is the
supreme God who is here spoken of. And what godhead
is clearly to be seen by the creation of the world, but the
supreme Godhead ? And what can that invisible glory and
power of this God be, but that by which he is distinguish
ed from other beings, and may be known to be what he is ?
It is said, " that which may be known of God, is clearly
manifest by his works." But doubtless, one thing, and
infinitely the most important, that may be known of God,
is his supreme dignity and glory, that glory which he has
as supreme God. But if the creation of the world be not
a work peculiar to him, how are these things so clearly
manifested by his work ? The work of creation is spoken
of as one of the great wonders done by him, who is God
of gods and Lord of lords, who alone doth great won
ders ; as in Ps. cxxxvi. 2—9. " O give thanks unto the
God of gods.— O give thanks to the Lord of lords.— To
him who alone doth great wonders.— To him that by wisdom
made the heavens. — To him that stretched out the earth
over the waters.— To him that made great lights, — The
sun to rule by day," &c— This is the work of the supreme
God, which he wrought alone, Job ix. 8. " Which alone
spreadeth out the heavens." And 2 Kings xix. 15. " O
Lord God of Israel, which dwellest between the cheru-

504

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bims, thou art the God, even thou alone, of all the king
doms of the earth : thou hast made heaven and earth :"
1 Chron. xvi. 24, 25, 26. " Declare his glory among the
heathen, his marvellous works among all nations. For
great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised. He is also to
be feared above all gods. For all the gods of the people
are idols : but the Lord made the heavens."— Isaiah xl.
25, 26. " To whom then will ve liken me, or shall I be
equal ? saith the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high,
and behold who hath created these things." How plain is
it here, that creating the world is spoken of as a work of
the supreme God, most evidently showing that none is like
him, or to be compared to him? So verse 12. compared
with verse 18. God asserts the creation of the world to be
his work, so as to deny any associate or instrument ; as in
Isaiah xliv. 24. " Thus saith Jehovah, thy Redeemer, and
he that formed thee from the womb, I am Jehovah that
maketh all things, that stretcheth forth the heavens alone,
that spreadeth abroad the earth by myself." Isaiah xiv.
5 — 7. " I am Jehovah, and there is none else ; there is no
God besides me : that they may know from the rising of
the sun, and from the west, that there is none besides me ;
I am the Lord, and there is none else ; I form the light,
and create darkness." Verse 12. " I have made the earth,
and created man upon it : I, even my hands, have stretch
ed out the heavens." Verse 18. " Thus saith Jehovah
that created the heavens, God himself that formed the
earth and made it." Verse 21. " I am Jehovah, and there
is no God else beside me ; a just God and a Saviour, there
is none beside me." Yet these works are applied to
Christ. § 28. God's creating the world, is used as an argument,
to show the nations of the world the reasonableness of
forsaking all other gods, and worshipping the one true God
only. Rev. xiv. 7. " Saying with a loud voice, Fear God,
and give glory to him, and worship him that made heaven
and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters." (See
also Acts xiv. 15. and Rev. x. 6.) — The work of creation is
spoken of as the distinguishing work of the supreme only
living and true God, showing him to be alone worthy to
be worshipped ; as in Jer. x. 6—12. " Forasmuch as there
is none like unto thee, O Lord, thou art great, and thy
name is great in might. Who would not fear thee, O
King of nations ? for to thee doth it appertain. Jehovah
is the true God, he is the living God, and an everlasting
King. — Thus shall ye say unto them, The gods that have
not made the heavens and the earth, even they shall perish
from the earth, and from under these heavens. He hath
made the earth by his power : he hath established the
world by his wisdom, and hath stretched out the heavens
by his discretion."
§ 29. But the creation of the world is ascribed to Jesus
Christ, in John i. 3. Col. i. 16. Heb. i. 10. It is ascribed
to him as being done by his power, as the work of his
hands, Heb. i. 10. And his work in such a manner, as to
be a proper manifestation of his greatness and glory ; and
so as to show him to be God, John i. 1 — 3. Is the crea
tion of the spiritual, intelligent world, consisting of angels,
and the souls of men, and the world of glory, a peculiar
work of the supreme God ? Doubtless it is so. Neh. ix.
6. " Thou, even thou, art Lord alone. Thou hast made
heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host : and
the host of heaven worshippeth thee." Psalm civ. 4.
" Who maketh his angels spirits, and his ministers a flame
of fire." And the creation of the spiritual and intelligent
world, in every part of it, is also ascribed to Christ. For
it is said, John i. 3. " The world was made by him, and
without him was not any thing made that was made."
And to him is expressly ascribed the creation of the in
visible world, and of the angels in particular, even the
very highest and most exalted of them ; and all the most
glorious things in the invisible heaven, the highest and
most glorious part of the creation of God. Col. i. 16.
" By him were all things created that are in heaven and
that are in earth, visible and invisible;" (these include the
invisible things on earth, as well as in heaven, even the
souls of men ;) " whether they be thrones, or dominions,
or principalities, or powers ; all things were created by him."
* See 1 Sam. ii. 3, 10. Job xxi. 22. Psalm xi. 4, 5. lxxv. 6, 1. Ixxxii I, 8.
Judg. xi. 27. Psalm xciv. 2.

§ 30. Preserving the creation, is spoken of as the work
of the one only Jehovah, Neh. ix. 6. " Thou, even thou,
art Jehovah alone. Thou hast made heaven, the heaven
of heavens, with all their host ; the earth, and all things
that are therein ; and thou preservest them all" Isa. xl.
26. " Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath
created these things, that bringeth out their host by number.
He calleth them all by names, by the greatness of his
might ; for that he is strong in power, not one faileth."
Job xii. 7 — 10. " But ask now the beasts, and they shall
teach thee ; who knoweth not in all these, that the hand
of Jehovah hath made this, in whose hand is the soul of
every living thing, and the breath of all mankind ?" See
also Psalm xxxvi. 6, 7.
But the preservation of the creation is also ascribed to
Christ; Heb. i. 3. " Who being the brightness of his
glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding
all things by the word of his power. Colos. i. 17. " By
him all things consist."
§ 31. Governing the creation, is another thing often
spoken of as the peculiar work of God ; as in Isaiah xl.
21, to the end. There, governing the world is the manifest
peculiar work of him to whom none is like and none equal.
And, in Isaiah xiv. 1 — 13. governing the world, bringing
to pass revolutions in nations, &c. ; are spoken of as the
peculiar works of him who is Jehovah alone. See
2 Chron. xxix. 11, 12. and Psalm xxii. 28. xlvii. 2, &c.
But Christ is often, in the New Testament, spoken of as
the Governor of the world, is prayed to as such, and
spoken of as he whose will disposes all events.
Sitting as king in heaven, having his throne there, and
governing the universe for the salvation of his people, ars
spoken of as peculiar to the supreme God. But, how
often and eminently are these things ascribed to Christ !
His having his throne in heaven ; being exalted far above
all heavens ; thrones, dominions, &c. being made subject
to him ; being made head over all things to the church, &c.
§ 32. Judging the world, is another thing spoken of as
peculiarly and distinguishingly belonging to the supreme
God* Psalm 1. 1 — 7. " The mighty God, even Jehovah,
hath spoken, and called the earth from the rising of the sun
unto the going down thereof. Our God shall come ; a
fire shall devour before him. He shall call to the heavens
from above, and to the earth, that he may judge his people:
and the heavens shall declare his righteousness ; for God
is Judge himself. Hear, O my people, and I will speak ;
O Israel, I will testify against thee. I am God, even thy
God." This 50th Psalm begins thus : El elohim Je
hovah, " The God of gods, Jehovah ; or, the most mighty
God, even Jehovah." Who can believe that these three
most magnificent names ofthe Deity are thus united, to
signify any other than the supreme God?-t/
But it is apparent, that Christ is abundantly spoken of
as eminently the Judge of all nations, of all degrees, quick
and dead, angels and men. We are particularly and fully
instructed, that it is his distinguishing office to judge the
world, John v. 22. 2 Tim iv. 8. Rev. xix. 11. and many
other places.
§ 33. Destroying the world at the consummation of all
things is spoken of as apeculiar work of God ; Psalm cii.
even of Jehovah, ver. 1, 12, 16, 18, 21, 22. ; the Creator
of the world, ver. 24, 25, 28. See also Psalm xcvii. 1 — 6.
and Neh. i. 4, 5, 6. Jer. x. 6, 7, 10. Psalm xlvi. 6. civ.
32. cxliv. 5. Isa. lxiv. 1, 2, 3. Job ix. 4—7. But
this is spoken of as the work of the Son qf God, Heb. i.
latter end.
§ 34. The wonderful alterations made in the natural
world, at the coming out of Egypt ; the giving of the law,
and entrance into Canaan ; are often spoken of as the pe
culiar works of God, greatly manifesting the divine majesty
as vastly distinguished from all other gods : such as, di
viding the sea ; drowning Pharaoh and his hosts there ;
causing the earth to tremble, the mountains to quake at
his presence, the heavens to drop, the hills to skip like
rams and lambs ; Jordan being driven back ; the sun and
moon standing still, &c.
But these were infinitely small things, in comparison
with what shall be accomplished at the end of the world,
t See also Psalm ix. 7, 8. 1 Chron. xvi. 25, 26—33. Psalm xcvi. 4, 5 — 13.
Also Psalm xcviii.

CONCERNING THE DEITY OF CHRIST.

505

when the mountains and hills shall be thrown into the
midst of the sea ; and not only some particular mountains
shall quake, but the whole earth, yea, the whole visible
world, shall be terribly shaken to pieces. Not only shall
mount Sinai be on fire, as if it would melt, but all the
mountains, and the whole earth and heavens shall melt
with fervent heat ; the earth shall be dissolved even to its
centre. And not only shall the Red sea and Jordan be
dried up for a few hours, in a small part of their channels,
but all the seas, and oceans, and rivers through the world
shall be dried up for ever. Not only shall the sun and
moon be stopped for the space of one day ; but they, with
all the innumerable mighty globes of the heavens, shall
have an everlasting arrest, an eternal stop put to their
courses. Instead of drowning Pharaoh and his host in
the Red sea, the devil and all the wicked shall be plunged
into the eternal lake of fire and brimstone, &c.
The former kind of effects were but little, faint shadows
of the latter. And the former are spoken of as the pecu
liar, manifest, glorious works of the supreme one only
God, evidently manifesting his peculiar majesty and glory.
But the latter are the works of the Son of God, Jesus
Christ, as is evident by Heb. i. 10 — 12. It is here
worthy to be remarked, that — though the Scripture teaches,
that Christ's majesty shall at the last day appear to be so
great in his coming in power and great glory, yet — it is
said, when these things shall be, God alone should be ex
alted, in opposition to men and to other gods, Isa. ii. 10,
to the end.
5 35. The work of salvation is often spoken of as pe
culiar to God. It is said, the salvation of the righteous is
of the Lord, Psal. xxxvii. 39. and that salvation belongeth
unto the Lord, Psal. iii. 8. Jonah ii. 9. God's people
acknowledge him to be the God of their salvation, Psal.
xxv. 5. xxvii. 1. and Isa. xii. 2. Saving effectually is
spoken of as his prerogative, Jer. xvii. 14. " Heal me,
and I shall be healed ; save me, and I shall be saved : for
thou art my praise." Psal. lxviii. 20. " He that is our
God, is the God of salvation, and to the Lord our God be
long the issues from death."
Salvation is spoken of as being of God, in opposition to
men, and to all creature helps, Jer. iii. 23. " Truly in vain
is salvation hoped for from the hills, and from the multi
tude of mountains : truly the Lord our God is the salva
tion of Israel." Psal. lx. 11. " Give us help from trouble,
for vain is the help (Heb. salvation) of man." Ver. 16.
"I Jehovah am thy Saviour." Psal. cxlvi. 3, 5. " Put
not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom
is no help (or salvation). Happy is he that hath the God
of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God."
Salvation in or by any other is denied, Isa. lix. 16. " And
he saw that there was no man, and wondered that there was
no intercessor. Therefore, his arm brought salvation unto
him, and his righteousness it sustained him."
It is spoken of as his prerogative to be the rock of sal
vation, to be trusted in by men. " Let us make a joyful
noise to the rock of our salvation." See Psal. xcv. 1.
lxii. 2. " He only is my rock and my salvation ; he is
my defence." Ver. 5—9. " My soul, wait thou on God
alone, for my expectation is from him. He only is my
rock and my salvation : he is my defence ; I shall not be
moved. In God is my salvation and my glory ; the rock
of my strength, and my refuge, is in God. Trust in him at
all times; pour out your heart before him : God is a refuge
for us. Surely men of low degree are vanity, and men of
high degree are a lie : to be laid in the balance, they are
altogether lighter than vanity."*
It is said, that there is no other Saviour besides the one
only Jehovah; Isa. xliii. 3. " I am Jehovah thy God, the
Saviour of Israel ;" xliii. 11. " I, even I, am Jehovah, and
besides me there is no Saviour." See Isa. xlvii. 4. liv. 5.
and xiv. 15. " O God of Israel, the Saviour." Ver. 21, to
the end ; " I am Jehovah, and there is no God else besides
me.— Look unto me, and be ye saved, all ye ends of the
earth, for I am God, and there is none else." Here ob
serve, that this is given as a reason why all nations in the
world should look to him only for salvation, that he only
was God ; taking it for granted, and as an universally estab-
* See Deut. xxxii. 4. 2 Sam. xxiii. 3. Psal. xviii. 2. 2 Sam. xxii. 1,'2,31,

lished point, that none but God could be a Saviour. And
here salvation is claimed as the prerogative of the one only
God, and therefore exclusively of a secondary and subor
dinate god. It follows, " 1 have sworn by myself, the
word is gone out of my mouth in righteousness, and shall
not return, That unlo me every knee shall bow, and every
tongue shall swear. Surely shall one say, In Jehovah have
I righteousness and strength. Even to him shall men
come, and all that are incensed against him shall be
ashamed. In the Lord shall all the seed of Israel be jus
tified, and shall glory." Hosea xiii. 4. " Yet I am Jeho
vah, thy God from the land of Egypt : and thou shalt
know no God but me ; for there is no Saviour besides me."
God is so completely the only Saviour of his people, that
others are not admitted to partake of this honour, as medi
ate and subordinate saviours : Hos. i. 7. And therefore,
the heavenly hosts, in giving praise to God, ascribe salva
tion to him, as his peculiar and distinguishing glory ; Rev.
xix. 1. " I heard a great voice of much people in heaven,
saying, Alleluia ; salvation, and glory, and honour, and
power, unto the Lord our God."
§ 36. But nothing is more evident, by the express and
abundant doctrine of Scripture, than that Jesus Christ is
most eminently and peculiarly the Saviour of God's peo
ple, and the Saviour of (he world. In John iv. 42. his
very name is Jesus, Saviour. He is spoken of as the
Author of eternal salvation, Heb. v. 9. And the Captain
ofthe salvation of his people, Heb. ii. 10. a Prince and a
Saviour. He is called Zion's salvation, Isa. lxii. 11. " Be
hold, thy salvation cometh." He is spoken of, as saving by
his own strength, and able to save to the uttermost; one
mighty to save, and therein distinguished from all others;
as in Isa. lxiii. 1. " I that speak in righteousness, mighty
to save." Ver. 5. " I looked and there was none to help;
and I wondered that there was none to uphold. There
fore mine own arm brought salvation unto me, and my fury
it upheld me." What is said in this place, is meant of
Christ, as is manifest by comparing ver. 3. with Rev. xix.
15. And the very same things that are said of Jehovah, the
only God, as the only Saviour in whom men shall trust
for salvation, as in Isa. xiv. 21, to the end, are from time
to time applied to .Christ in the New Testament. And it
is expressly said, Acts iv. 12. " There is salvation in no
other, neither is there any other name given under heaven
amongst men, whereby we must be saved." And the
heavenly hosts, in their praises, ascribe salvation to Christ
in like manner as to God the Father, Rev. vii. 10. " Sal
vation to our God, which sitteth upon the throne, and to
the Lamb." See also chap. v. Christ is a rock sufficiently
sure, and perfectly to be trusted, Isa. xxviii. 16, 17.
1 Cor. x. 4.
§ 37. The redemption from Egypt, and bringing the
children of Israel through the wilderness to the possession
of Canaan, is often spoken of as a great salvation, which
was most evidently the peculiar work of the one only Je
hovah, greatly manifesting his distinguished power and
majesty. — 2 Sam. vii. 22, 23. " Wherefore thou art great,
O Lord God, for there is none like thee ; according to all
that we have heard with our ears ;" meaning what they
had heard of his great fame, or the name he had obtained
by his wonderful works, in bringing them out of Egypt,
&c. as appears by what follows ; " And what one nation
in the earth is like thy people, even like Israel, whom God
went to redeem for a people to himself, and to make him
a name, and to do for you great things, and terrible for thy
land, before thy people which thou redeemest to thee
from Egypt, from the nations and their gods ?" The same
work is mentioned as an evidence, that the doer of it is Je
hovah, and that there is none like unto him, and as that
which makes known God's name through the earth ; Exod.
viii. 10, 22. ix. 14, 16. and x. 2. — See also chap. xv. 6 —
11. xviii. li . and xxxiv. 10. Deut. iii. 24.
§ 38. But it was Jesus Christ that wrought that salva
tion: Isa. lxiii. 9, 10. "The angel of his presence saved
them : in his love and pity he redeemed them, and he
bore them, and earned them all the days of old. But they
rebelled and vexed his Holy Spirit." This rebelling and
vexing of his Holy Spirit is evidently the same thing with
32. Psal. xviii. 2, 30, 31 46. Isa. xxvi. 4. Heb. i. 12

506

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Part III.

that spoken of, Psal. xcv. 8, 9, 10. " As in the provoca
tion, and as in the day of temptation in the wilderness,
when your fathers tempted me, proved me, and saw my
works. Forty years long was I grieved with that generation. '
But it is evident that he whom they tempted, provoked,
and grieved, was that God whose great works they saw,
and therefore was that God who wrought those wonderful
works in Egypt and the wilderness : as is evident by the
same Psalm, ver. 3. where he is called " Jehovah, a great
God, and a great King above all gods." And it is equally
clear by that passage in Isa. lxiii. just quoted, that it was
the angel qf God's presence, and by 1 Cor. x. 9. " Neither
let us tempt Christ, as some of them also tempted."
And as it is said, Isa. lxiii. that the angel of God's pre
sence saved them, &c. so it is plain by Exod. xxiii. 20—
33. that God's angel, a different person from him who acts
as first in the affairs of the Deity, brought them into Ca
naan, &c. And it is plain, that the person that appeared
in the bush, who said his name was Jehovah, and I am
that I am, was the angel of Jehovah : Exod. iii. 2, 14. vi.
3. and Acts vii. 30. And nothing is more evident, by the
whole history, than that the same person brought them out
of Egypt : and also, that it was the same angel which ap
peared and delivered the ten commandments at mount
Sinai, conversed there with Moses, and manifested him
self from time to time to the congregation in the wilder
ness. Acts vii. 38. " This is he that was in the church in
the wilderness, with the angel which spake to him in the
mount Sinai, and with our fathers; who received the
lively oracles to give unto us." That angel doubtless was
the same that is called the angel ofthe covenant ; Mai. iii.
1 . " Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall pre
pare the way before me ; and the Lord whom ye seek
shall suddenly come into his temple, even the messenger
of the covenant, whom ye delight in. Behold he shall
come, saith the Lord of hosts :" and this messenger with
out doubt was Christ. — It is plain by Heb. xii. 25, 26, 27.
that he who spake at mount Sinai was Christ : " See that
ye refuse not him that speaketh," &c.
§ 39. Thus we see, that however the work of salvation
be so often spoken of as peculiar to God ; yet this salva
tion out of Egypt, so much celebrated in Scripture, is not
peculiar to God the Father ; but that the Son wrought
this work as well as the Father. And it is true, that the
Scriptures abundantly speak of an infinitely greater and
more glorious salvation than that out of Egypt ; viz. the
salvation of men from sin, Satan, eternal death and ruin,
and bringing them to the heavenly Canaan, to eternal
life and happiness there. This is spoken of as a far
greater work than the other. So that, in comparison of it,
it is not worthy to be remembered or mentioned. Jer. xvi.
14, 15. " It shall no more be said, The Lord liveth," &c.
see also chap, xxiii. 6 — 8. Isa. xliii. 18 — 21. " Remember
ye not the former things," &c. But I need not stop to show
the reader how this great salvation is in Scripture ascribed
in a peculiar manner to Christ as the author.
§ 40. We read in Scripture of two creations : the first,
that which Moses gives an account of in the first chapter of
Genesis ; the other, a spiritual creation, consisted in re
storing the moral world, bringing it to its highest perfec
tion, and establishing it in its eternal felicity and glory ;
and the latter is spoken of as most incomparably the
greatest work ; Isa. lxv. 17, 18. and lxvi. 22. Now, as
creation is so much spoken of as a most peculiar work of
the supreme God, one may well determine, that if the
first creation be not so, yet the second is, which is so much
greater, and evidently the greatest of all God's works.
But this new creation, which is the same with the work
of redemption, is, in the most especial manner, spoken of
as the work of Jesus : for he is ever mentioned as the great
Redeemer and restorer. This work is committed to him :
for this he has a full commission. It is left in his hands ;
all things are committed to him ; all power in heaven and
in earth is given him, that he may accomplish this work,
and bring it to its most absolute perfection. To this end
are subjected to him, thrones, dominions, principalities,
and powers, and he is made head over all things ; and to
this end, the world to come, that is, all the affairs of that
new creation, are put in subjection unto him : and he,
with regard to all the transactions belonging to this new

creation, that are written in the book of God, is the Alpha
and Omega, the First and the Last. Christ built the
house ; he built all things, especially in this new creation ;
and therefore is God. These things are plainly asserted
in Heb. iii. 3, 4. " For this man (rather this person) was
counted worthy of more glory than Moses, inasmuch as he
who hath builded the house hath more honour than the
house. For every house is builded by some man : but he
that built all things is God." — Thus, the work of redemp
tion, which is both the greatest work of salvation, and the
greatest work of creation, (the two kinds of works chiefly
spoken of in Scripture as divine,) is accomplished by the
Son of God.
§ 41 . The giving of spiritual and saving light is one chief
part of the new creation, as creating the light was a chief
part of the old creation. The causing of this spiritual light
is spoken of as the peculiar work of God. 2 Cor. iv. 6.
" For God, who commanded the light to shine out of dark
ness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the
knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus
Christ," &c. But the giving of this light is especially
ascribed to Christ, as the author and fountain of it. He
is called the Light of the world ; the Light of life ; the
true Light, that lighteth every man that cometh into the
world. He is the Sun of righteousness. .No man knoweth
the Father but the Son, and he to whom the Son will re
veal him, &c.
§ 42. So calling men into Christ's fellowship and king
dom, is also ascribed to God. Rom. viii. 30. " Whom
he did predestinate, them he also called." Acts ii. 39.
" As many as the Lord our God shall call." 1 Cor. i. 9.
" God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fel
lowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord." 1 Thess. ii.
1 2. " That ye would walk worthy of God, who hath called
you unto his kingdom and glory.' 2 Thess. ii. 1 3, 1 4. " God
hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation ; where-
unto he called you by our gospel." 2 Tim. i. 9. " Ac
cording to the power of God, who hath saved us, and
called us with an holy calling, not according to our works,
but according to his own purpose and grace." 1 Pet. v.
10. " The God of all grace, who hath called us unto his
eternal glory."
But this is ascribed to Jesus Christ. Rom.i. 6. "Among
whom also ye are the called of Jesus Christ." 1 Cor. vii.
17. "As tlie Lord hath called every one." John x. 3.
" And he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them
out." Verse 16. " Other sheep have I, which are not of
this fold, them also I must bring in ; and they shall hear
my voice." Eph. i. 18. " That ye may know what is the
hope of his calling."
§ 43. Regeneration, or the changing and renewing of
the heart, is spoken of as the peculiar work of God.
John i. 13. " Which were born, not of blood, nor of the
will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God."
James i. 18. " Of his own will begat he us with the word
of truth, that we should be a kind of first-fruits of his
creatures." It is likewise ascribed to Christ. Saints are bom of
him in their spiritual generation, and therefore are called
his seed ; Gal. iii. 29. It is Christ that baptizes men with
the Holy Ghost, which is called the washing of regenera
tion, and renewing of the Holy Ghost, and a being born
of water and of the Spirit. Christ sanctifies and cleanses
the souls of men, by the washing of water, by the word ;
Eph. v. 26.
§ 44. Justification, washing from sin, delivering from
guilt, forgiving sin, admitting to favour and to the glorious
benefits of righteousness in the sight of God, are often
spoken of as belonging peculiarly to God. Rom. iii. 26.
" That he might be just, and the justifier of him that
believeth in Jesus." Verse 30. " Seeing it is one God
that justifieth," &c. Chap. viii. 30. " Whom he called,
he also justified." Verse 33. " It is God that justifieth."
Isaiah xliii. 25. " I am he that blotteth out thy trans
gressions for mine own sake." Psalm li. 2 — 4. " Wash
me throughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my
sin : against thee, thee only, have I sinned." Therefore
the Jews said, Luke v. 21. "Who can forgive sins but
God only ?"
But Christ hath power to forgive sins, as it follows in

CONCERNING THE DEITY OF CHRIST.

507

the last-mentioned place ; verse 24. " But that ye may
know, that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive
sins," &c. He washes us from our sins in his own blood ;
Rev. i. 5. And he justifies those that know and believe
in him; Isaiah liii. 11.
§ 45. Overcoming Satan, and delivering men from him,
and giving his people victory over him, are spoken of as
the peculiar works of God's glorious power. Isaiah xxvii.
1. "In that day, Jehovah, with his great and strong
sword, shall punish Leviathan the piercing serpent, even
Leviathan, that crooked serpent ; he shall slay the dragon
that is in the sea." Psalm viii. 1, 2. " O Jehovah, our
God, how excellent is thy name in all the earth, who hast
set thy glory above the heavens ! Out of the mouth of
babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength, because
of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and
the avenger."
But it is the special work of Christ to bruise the ser
pent's head ; to destroy the works of the devil ; and that
by his own strength. For he is represented as conquering
him, because he is stronger than the strong man armed,
and so overcoming him and taking from him all his
armour wherein he trusted, and spoiling his goods. It is
he that has spoiled principalities and powers, and made
a show of them openly, triumphing over them. He is
the spiritual Samson, that has rent the roaring lion as he
would have rent a kid ; and the spiritual David, that has
delivered the lamb out of his mouth, and has slain that
great Goliath. He is that Michael who fights with the
dragon and casts him out ; and at last will judge Satan,
and will utterly destroy him ; and will inflict those ever
lasting torments on him spoken of in Rev. xx. 10. In the
apprehension of which he now trembles, and trembled for
fear that Christ would inflict those torments on him, when
he cried out and fell down before him, saying, " Art thou
come to torment me before the time ?" and, " I beseech
thee, torment me not.".
§ 46. Should any imagine that those parts of the work
of redemption, which are initial, and are wrought in this
world, being more imperfect, may be wrought by the Son
of God; but that the more glorious perfection of it, which
is brought to pass in heaven, is peculiar to God the Fa
ther: in opposition to this, it may be observed, it belongs
to Christ to take care of the souls of his saints after death ;
to receive them to the heavenly state ; and to give them
possession of heaven. Therefore the Scriptures represent,
that he redeems his saints to God, and makes them kings
and priests. He has the key of David, the key of the pa
lace, and the keys of hades, or the separate state, and of
death; and opens, and no man shuts ; and shuts, and no
man opens. He is gone to heaven as the forerunner of
the saints. He has, in their name, taken possession of
that inheritance which he has purchased for them, that he
may put them in possession of it in due time. He is gone
to prepare a place for them, that he may come and take
them to himself, that where he is, there they may be also ;
and make them sit with him in his throne. And therefore
Stephen, when dying, commended his spirit into Christ's
hands. Or, if any shall say, that the far more glorious salvation
which shall be effected at the end of the world ; when all
things shall be brought to their highest consummation,
shall be the peculiar work of God the Father ; I answer,
It is abundantly manifest from Scripture, that the con
summation of all things shall be by Christ. He shall
raise the dead by his voice, as one that has power and
life in himself. He shall raise up the bodies of his saints
in their glorious resurrection, making their bodies like to
his glorious body ; John v. 25, 29. and vi. 39, 40. He,
as the universal and final Judge, shall fully put all things
to rights, and bring every thing to its last and most per
fect state. He shall bestow that great gift of eternal life,
in both soul and body, on the whole church, and every
individual member in a state of most consummate glory,
which is the thing aimed at in all the preceding steps of
the great affair of redemption. He shall present his church
to himself and to his Father a glorious church, not hav
ing spot or wrinkle, or any such thing ; all in a perfect pu-
* John xi. 25. and v. 22, 23, 27. Eph. v. 20. 1 Cor. XV. 20—28. Matt. xxv.

rity, beauty, and glory : and the glory which God hath
given him he will give them, in the most perfect manner,
that they may reign with him for ever and ever. And
thus, he will cause the New Jerusalem to appear in its
brightest glory, as a bride adorned for her husband ; and
will perfect the new creation, and cause the new heavens
and new earth to shine forth in their consummate and
eternal beauty and brightness ; when God shall proclaim,
It is done; I am Alpha and Omega, the First and the
Last.* Christ is represented as being himself the light and
glory that enlightens the New Jerusalem, that fills with
brightness and glory the church of God, in its last, con
summate, and eternal glory ; Rev. xxi. 23.
§ 47. Concerning the name Jehovah, see Neh. ix. 6.
" Thou art Jehovah alone ; thou hast made heaven and
earth; the heaven of heavens, with all their host; the
earth," &c. Deut. vi. 4. " Hear, O Israel, Jehovah our
God is one Jehovah." 2 Sam. xxii. 32. " Who is God,
save Jehovah ? who is a rock, save our God ? So Psal.
xviii. 31. 1 Kings xviii. 39. " Jehovah, he is the God ; Je
hovah, he is the God." When God proclaimed his name
in mount Sinai, Exod. xxxiv. 5, 6. " He passed by and
proclaimed, Jehovah, Jehovah." Jer. x. 10. " Jehovah is
the true God ; he is the living God, and an everlasting
King." Exod. xv. 11. "Who is like unto thee, O Je
hovah?" 1 Chron. xvii. 20. " O Jeliovah, there is none
like unto thee." Psal. lxxxvi. 8. It might well be ex
pected, that, in that abundant revelation which God has
made of himself, he would make himself known by some
one name at least, which should be expressly delivered as
the peculiar and distinguishing name of the Most High.
And we find it to be so : God has, with great solemnity,
declared a certain name as his most peculiar name; which
he has expressly and very often spoken of as a name that
belongs to him in a most distinguishing manner, and
belongs to the Supreme Being only; and hath expressly
asserted that it belongs to no other. But, notwithstand
ing all this, the Arians, to serve their particular purpose,
reject this name, as not being the distinguishing name oi
the supreme God.
§ 48. King qf kings and Lord qf lords, are titles pecu
liar to the Supreme Being. Deut. x. 17. " For the Lord
your God is God of gods, and the Lord of lords." Psal.
cxxxvi. 3. " O give thanks to the Lord of lords, for his
mercy endureth for ever." Dan. ii. 47. " Of a truth it is
that your God is a God of gods, and Lord of kings."
1 Tim. vi. 14, 15, 16. " Until the appearing of our Lord
Jesus Christ, which in his times he shall show, who is the
blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord
of lords ; who only hath immortality, dwelling in light
which no man can approach unto, whom no man hath seen,
nor can see; to whom be honour and power everlasting,
Amen." Rev. xix. 11 — 16. " He whose name is called
the Word of God, hath on his vesture and on his thigh a
name written, King of kings, and Lord of lords."
§ 49. Christ's eternity is abundantly asserted. Psal. cii.
24 — 27. " Of old hast thou laid the foundations of the
earth ; and the heavens are the work of thy hands : but
thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end." Rom.
i. 23. " The incorruptible God." 1 Tim. vi. 16. " The
King eternal, immortal." Rev. iv. 9, 10. v. 14. x. 5, 6.
and xv. 7. Heb. vii. 3. " Having neither beginning of days,
nor end of life."
§ 50. There must be a vast difference, not only in the
degree, but in the kind, of respect and worship due to the
supreme God as well as in other things; since there is so
infinite a difference between this Being and all others.
There is a great difference as to the kind of respect proper
for a wife to render to her husband, and that which it is
proper for her to render towards other men. So it is with
regard to the respect due to God ; otherwise there would
not be a foundation for that jealousy, which God exercises
on occasion of his professing people worshipping other
beings. In addition to what has been observed of the works and
worship of God, the following savings of Christ are worthy
to be observed. John v. 17. " Mv Father worketh hither
to, and I work." Ver. 19. " What things soever the
34. 2Tim.iv.8. Luke xxii. 29, 33. Matt. xxiv. 47. Rev. ii. 7, 10. andiii.2t.
Rev. -xxii. 11,1T

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Father doth, these also doth the Son likewise." Ver. 23.
" That all men should honour the Son, even as they
honour the Father." It is plain, God is jealous in that re
spect, that no other being may share wiih him in honour,
that he alone may be exalted. It is expected that other
beings should humble themselves, should be brought low,
should deny themselves for God, and esteem themselves as
nothing before him. And as he requires that they should
abase themselves, he would not set up others to exalt
them to a rivalship with himself. If men may pray to
Christ, may adore him, give themselves up to him, trust in
him, praise him, and serve him ; what kind of worship is
due to the Father, entirely distinct from all this in nature
and kind ?
When Satan tempted Christ to fall down and worship
him, as one that had power to dispose of the kingdoms of
this world, and the glory of them ; Christ replies, " It is
written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him
only shalt thou serve." But the Arians must suppose,
that we are required to worship and serve some other
being than this Lord God which Christ speaks of, as the
disposer not only of the kingdoms of this world, but of the
kingdom of heaven and the glory thereof. On the suppo
sition of Christ's being merely a creature, he would much
more properly be ranked with creatures exclusively, and
never with God (as being called by his name and titles,
having ascribed to him his attributes, dominions, &c).
However great a creature he might be, he would be infi
nitely below God.
§ 51. Concerning the grand objection from that text,
" Of that day and hour knoweth no man, nor the angels in
heaven, nor the Son, but the Father :" I would observe,
that even the Arians themselves, with regard to some things
said of Christ, must make the distinction between his
power or knowledge, as to his inferior and superior nature ;
or, if they do not allow two natures, then, at least, as to
his humbled state, and his state both before and after his
humiliation : as Mark vii. 24. " And would have no man
know it, but he could not he hid." This cannot mean
that the person who created the whole world, visible and
invisible, &c. and by whom all things consist and are
governed, had not power to order things so, that he might
be hid.
§ 52. It is observable, that Christ is frequently called
God absolutely, e£ut and 6 e_oj ; by which name even the
heathens themselves always understood the supreme God.
Dr. Cudworth, in his " Intellectual System," abundantly
shows, that the heathens generally worshipped but one
supreme, eternal, universal, uncreated Deity ; but that
their best philosophers maintained, that this Deity subsisted
in three hypostases : though they had many created gods.
And in page 627, he says, " It now appears, from what we
have declared, that as lo the ancient and genuine Platonists
and Pythagoreans, none of their trinity of gods, or divine
hypostases, were independent; so, neither were they crea
ture-gods, but uncreated, they being all of them not only
eternal, and necessarily existent and immutable, but also
universal, i. e. infinite and omnipotent causes, principles,
and creators of the whole world. From whence it follows,
that these Platonists could not justly be taxed with idola
try, in giving religious worship to each hypostasis of their
trinity. And one grand design of Christianity being to
abolish the pagan idolatry or creature worship, it cannot
justly be charged therewith, from that religious worship
given to our Saviour Christ and the Holy Ghost, they being
none of them, according to the true and orthodox Chris
tianity, creatures, however the Arian hypothesis made them
such. And this was indeed the grand reason why the an
cient fathers so zealously opposed Arianism. We shall
cite a remarkable passage out of Athanasius, fourth oration
against the Arians, to this purpose, as follows :
" Why, therefore, do not these Arians, holding this,
reckon themselves amongst the pagans or Gentiles, since
they do, in like manner, worship the creature besides the
Creator ?  TT| kti. €1 Xa-rpci/. I jrapa rov KTi-av-ra." Athanasius's
meaning here, could not well be, that they worshipped the
creature more than the Creator ; forasmuch as the Arians
constantly declared that they gave less worship to the Son
than to the Father.
" For though the pagans worship one uncreated and

many created gods ; but these Arians only one uncreated,
and one created, to wit, the Son, or Word of God ; yet will
not this make any real difference betwixt them ; because
the Arians' one created god, is one of those many pagan
gods ; and these many gods of the pagans or Gentiles
have the same nature with this one, they being alike
creatures." § 53. It is remarkable, that in so many places, both in
the Old Testament and New, when Christ is spoken of,
his glory and prerogatives represented, and the respect due
to him urged, that the vanity of idols in the same places
should be represented, and idolatry warned against. See
Psal. xvi. 4. It is manifest, that it is the Messiah that
there speaks. — See also many prophecies of Isaiah and
other prophets. 1 John v. 20, 21. 1 Cor. x. 19—22.
" There is not the least intimation, where Christ is styled
God, either in the texts themselves, or contexts, that this
is to be understood of his office, and not of his person; as
is the case where magistrates are styled gods, where the
very next words explain it, and tell us what is to be under
stood by it. And when Moses and angels are called gods,
no one who attends to the whole discourse, could easily
mistake the meaning, and not see that this term God was
there used in an inferior and metaphorical sense." Letter
to the Dedicator of Mr. Emlyn's Inquiry, &c. p. 7, 8.
Matt. xix. 17. " Why callest thou me good ? there is none
good but one, that is God." " Mr. Emlyn affirms it to be
evident, that Christ here distinguishes himself from God,
and denies of himself what he affirms of God. But the
truth of his interpretation entirely depends upon the opi
nion which the young man had of Christ, who received
this answer from him." Ibid. p. 17, 18.
§ 54. That Christ had divine omniscience, appears from
his own words ; Rev. ii. 23. " And all the churches shall
know that I am he which searcheth the hearts and the
reins." Now Solomon declares, 1 Kings viii. 39. " Thou,
even thou only, knowest the hearts of all the children of
men." And Jer. xvii. 10. God says, " I, the Lord, search
the heart ; I try the reins." And Christ does not say, The
churches shall know that I search the reins and the heart ;
but that " I am he," &c. which, if words have any force in
them, yea, if the expression is not altogether unintelligible,
implies, " I am he who is distinguished by this character ;
or the churches shall know that I am the God who search
eth," &c. Ibid. p. 43, 44.
§ 55. That the eternal Logos should be subordinate to
the Father, though not inferior in nature ; yea, that Christ,
in his office, should be subject to the Father, and less than
he, though in his higher nature not inferior, is not strange.
It is proper, among mankind, that a son should be subor
dinate to his father, yea, subject in many respects, though
of the same human nature ; yea, though in no respect
inferior in any natural qualification. It was proper that
Solomon should be under David his father, and be ap
pointed king by him, and receive charges and directions
from him, though, even then, in his youth, probably not
inferior to his father.
The disciples of Christ, or those that trusted in him,
when here on earth, applied to him as trusting in his
ability, not only to heal all diseases of the body, and to raise
the dead ; but as leaving their souls in his hands, and
being able to heal the diseases of their minds ; as being
the author and fountain of virtue. So Luke xvii. 5.
"The apostles, said unto the Lord, Increase our faith."
So the father of the demoniac, Mark ix. 24. "Lord, I
believe, help thou mine unbelief."
§ 56. It is a good argument for Christ's divinity, that
he is to be the author of the resurrection. The atoms
and particles in one little finger, are capable of so many
removes, and such dispersions, that I believe it would
surpass any finite understanding, at two or three thousand
years' end, to tell what distinct particles of the universe
belonged to it. It would require a vast strength and sub
tlety of mind, to trace but one atom so nicely, as to know
that individual atom in the universe, after so long a time ;
after it had been a particle of air, water, oil, or animal
spirit, &c. and had been transported with prodigious swift
ness from place to place, backwards and forwards, millions
of times, amongst innumerable others of the same kind.
Especially, would it be exceeding difficult, so narrowly to

CONCERNING THE DEITY OF CHRIST.

509

watch two of such at once. If so, what would it be, to
follow every atom in a man's body ; yea, of all the bodies
that ever have died, or shall die ? And, at the same time,
to have the mind exercised with full vigour upon innumer
able other matters, that require an equal strength of under
standing ? and all this with such ease, that it shall be no
labour to the mind ?
§ 57. God would not have given us any person to be
our redeemer, unless he was of divine and absolutely
supreme dignity and excellency, or was the supreme
God ; lest we should be under temptation to pay him too
great respect ; lest, if he were not the supreme God, we
should be under temptation to pay him that respect which
is due only to the supreme, and which God, who is a
jealous God, will by no means allow to be paid to an in
ferior being. Men are very liable to be tempted to rate
those too highly, from whom they have received great
benefits. They are prone to give them that respect and
honour, that belongs to God only. Thus, the Gentile
world deified and adored such of their kings as did great
things for them, and others from whom they received great
benefits. So Cornelius was tempted to give too great
respect to Peter, he being the person that God had marked
out to be his teacher and guide in things pertaining to
eternal salvation. So the apostle John could scarce avoid
adoring the angel that showed him those visions : he fell
down to worship him once and again. Though the first
time he had been strictly warned against it ; vet the temp
tation was so great, that he did it again : Rev. xix. 10.
xxii. 8. This being a temptation they were so liable to,
was greatly disallowed of by God. When Cornelius fell
down before Peter, he took him up, saying, " Stand up ;
I myself also am a man." So, when the people at Lystra
were about to offer divine worship to Paul and Barnabas,
when they heard of it, they rent their clothes, and ran in
among them, crying out, " Sirs, why do ye these things ?
We also are men of like passions with you, and preach
unto you, that ye should turn from these vanities unto the
living God, which made heaven, and the earth, and the
sea, and all things that are therein;" Acts xiv. And
when John was about to adore the angel, how strictly was
he warned against it ! " See thou do it not," says he, "for
I am thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren the prophets,
that have the testimony of Jesus Christ : worship God."
And God has always been so careful to guard against it,
that he hid the body of Moses, that it might be no temp
tation to idolatry. But if any thing can be a temptation
to give supreme respect and honour to one that is not the
Supreme Being, this would be a temptation, viz. to have a
person that is not the Supreme Being, to be our redeemer;
to have such an one endure such great sufferings out of
love to us, and thereby to deliver us from such extreme
and eternal misery, and to purchase for us so great and
eternal happiness. God therefore, in wisdom, has ap
pointed such a person to be our redeemer, that is of ab
solutely supreme glory and excellency, that we may be in
no danger of loving and adoring him too much ; that we
may prize him, exalt him for the great things that he has
done for us, as much as we will, nay, so far as his love to
us, his sufferings for us, and the benefits we receive by
him, can tempt us to, without danger of exceeding.
Christ has done as great things for us as ever the Father
did. His mercy and love have been as great and wonder
ful ; and we receive as much benefit by them, as we do
by the love and mercy of the Father. The Father never
did greater things for us than to redeem us from hell, and
bring us to eternal life. But if Christ had not been a
person equal with the Father, and worthy of our equal
respect, God would not have so ordered it, that the temp
tation to love and respect the Son, which results from
favours that we have by kindness received, should be
equal with the inducements we have to love and respect
the Father.
§ 58. I shall offer some reasons against Dr. Watts's
notion of the pre-existence of Christ's human soul. If
the pre-existing soul of Christ created the world, then,
doubtless, he upholds and governs it. The same Son of
God that did one, does the other. He created all things,
and by him all things consist. And if so, how was his
dominion confined to the Jewish nation, before his incar

nation, but extends to all nations since ? Besides, there are
many things ascribed in the Old Testament to the Son of
God, in those very places, which Dr. Watts himself sup
poses to speak of him, that imply his government of the
whole world, and all nations. The same person that is
spoken of as King of Israel, is represented as the Governor
of the world.
According to this scheme, the greatest of the works of
the Son in his created nature, implying the greatest exalta
tion, was his first work of all ; viz. His creating all
things, all worlds, all things visible and invisible, whether
they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers :
and this before ever he had any trial at all of his obedience,
fkc. At least, this work seems much greater than judging
the world at the last day ; which the Scripture often speaks
of as one of the highest parts of his exaltation, which he
has in reward for his obedience and sufferings : and Dr.
Watts himself supposes his honours, since his humiliation,
to be much greater than before.
§ 59. On this scheme it will follow, that the covenant
of redemption was made with a person that was not sui
juris, and not at liberty to act his own mere good pleasure,
with respect to undertaking to die for sinners ; but was
obliged to comply, on the first intimation that it would be
well pleasing to God, and a thing that he chose.
§ 60. According to that scheme, the man Christ Jesus
was not properly the son of the virgin, and so the son of
man. To be the son of a woman, is to receive being in
both soul and body, in consequence of a conception in
her womb. The soul is the principal part of the man ; and
sonship implies derivation of the soul as well as the body,
by conception. Though the soul is no part of the mother,
and be immediately given by God, yet that hinders not its
being derived by conception ; it being consequent on it,
according to a law of nature. It is agreeable to a law of
nature, that where a perfect human body is conceived in
the womb of a woman, and properly nourished and in
creased, a human soul should come into being : and con
ception may as properly be the cause whence it is derived,
as many other natural effects are derived from natural
causes or antecedents. For it is the power of God which
produces these effects, though it be according to an estab
lished law. The soul being so much the principal part
of man, a derivation of the soul by conception, is the
chief thing implied in a man's being the son of a
woman. According to what seems to be Dr. Watts's scheme, the
Son of God is no distinct divine person from the Father.
So far as he is a divine person, he is the same person
with the Father. So that in the covenant of redemption,
the Father covenants with himself, and he takes satisfac
tion of himself, &c. Unless you will say, that one nature
covenanted with the other ; the two natures in the same
person covenanted together, and one nature in the same
person took satisfaction of the other nature in the same
person. But how does this confound our minds, instead
of helping our ideas, or making them more easy and intel
ligible!' § 61. The Son of God, as a distinct person, was from
eternity. It is said, Micah v. 2. " His goings forth were
of old, from everlasting." So Prov. viii. 23. " I was set
up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth
was." So he is called, Isa. ix. 6. " The everlasting Fa
ther." I know of no expressions used in Scripture, more
strong, to signify the eternity of the Father himself.
Dr. Watts supposes the world to be made by the pre-
existent soul of Christ ; and thinks it may properly be so
said, though the knowledge and power of this pre-existent
soul could not extend to the most minute parts, every
atom, &c— But it is evidently the design of the Scripture
to assure us that Christ made all things whatever, in the
absolute universality, John i. 33. "All things were made
by him, and without him was not any thing made that was
made." Col. i. 16, 17. "For by him were all things
created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible
and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or
principalities, or powers ; all things were created by him,
and for him : and he is before all things, and by him all
things consist." Now, if we suppose matter to be infi
nitely divisible, it will follow, that let his wisdom and

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Part III,

power be as great as they will, if finite, but a few of those
individual things that are made, were the effects of his
power and wisdom : yea, that the number of the things
that were made by him, are so few, that they bear no pro
portion to others, that did not immediately fall under his
notice ; or that of the things that are made there are ten
thousand times, yea infinitely more, not made by him, than
are made by him : — And so, but infinitely few of their
circumstances are ordered by his wisdom.
It is said, Heb. ii. 8. " Thou hast put all things in sub
jection under his feet. For in that he put all in subjec
tion under him, he left nothing that is not put under him."
Here it is represented, that God the Father has put every
individual thing under the power and government of ano
ther person, distinct from himself. But this cannot be
true of the human soul of Christ, as it must be according
to Dr. Watts's scheme, let the powers of that be never so
great, if they are not infinite. For things and circum
stances, and dependencies and consequences of things in
the world, are infinite in number ; and therefore a finite
understanding and power cannot extend to them : yea, it
can extend to but an infinitely small part of the whole
number of individuals, and their circumstances and con
sequences. Indeed, in order to the disposal of a few
things, in their motions and successive changes, to a cer
tain precise issue, there is need of infinite exactness, and
so need of infinite power and wisdom.
§ 62. The work of creation, and so the work of uphold
ing all things in being, can, in no sense, be properly said
to be the work of any created nature. If the created na
ture gives forth the word, as Joshua did, when he said,
" Sun, stand thou still ;" yet it is not that created
nature that does it. That being that depends himself
on creating power, does not properly do any thing towards
creation, as Joshua did nothing towards stopping the sun
in his course. So that it cannot be true in Dr. Watts's
scheme, that that Son of God, who is a distinct person
from God the Father, did at all, in any manner of propri
ety, create the world, nor does he uphold it or govern it.
Nor can those things that Christ often says of himself be
true : as " The Father worketh hitherto, and I work." —
" Whatsoever the Father doth, those doth the Son like
wise," John v. 17,, 19.; it being very evident, that the
works of creating and upholding and governing the world
are ascribed to the Son, as a distinct person from the
Father. § 63. Not only is the word Elohim in the plural num
ber, but it is joined to a verb of the plural number, in
Gen. xx. 13. When God caused me to wander from my
Father's house. The word hightnu, caused to wander, is
in the plural number. This is agreeable to the use of
plural verbs, adjectives, and pronouns, in Gen. i. 26. iii.
22. xi. 7. See other instances in Gen. xxxv. 7. Exod.
xxxii. ii. 4. compared with Neh. ix. 18. Isa. xvi. 6.
The very frequent, joining of the word Elohim, a word
in the plural number, with the word Jehovah, a word in
the singular number, (as may be seen in places referred to
in the English concordance, under the words, Lord God,
Lord his God, Lord my God, Lord our God, Lord their
God, Lord thy God, Lord your God,) seems to be a sig
nificant indication of the union of several divine persons
in one essence. The word Jehovah signifies as much as
the word Essence, and is the proper name of God with re
gard to his self-existent, eternal, all-sufficient, perfect, and
immutable Essence. Moses seems to have regard to
something remarkable in thus calling Elohim, the plural,
so often by the singular name, Jehovah ; especially in that
remark which he makes for the special observation of
God's people Israel, in Deut. vi. 4. " Hear, O Israel, The
Lord our God is one Lord." In the original, it is Jeho
vah Elohenu Jehovah Ehadh ; the more proper translation
of which is, Jehovah our God is one Jehovah. The verb is
is understood, and properly inserted between Jehovah Elo

henu and Jehovah Ehadh, thus, Jehovah Elohenu is Jeho
vah Ehadh; which, if most literally translated, is thus,
Jehovah Our Divine Persons is one Jehovah; as though
Moses, in this remark, had a particular reference to the
word Elohim being in the plural number, and would
guard the people against imagining from thence that there
was a plurality of essences or beings, among whom they
were to divide their affections and respect.
A further confirmation, that the name Elohim, when
used as the name of the True God, signifies some plurality,
is, that this same name is commonly, all over the Hebrew
Bible, used to signify the gods of the heathens, when many
gods are spoken of. See those places in the Hebrew Bible,
which are referred to in the English concordance, under
the word gods. In Exod. xx. 2, 3. when it is said in the
third verse, " Thou shalt have no other gods before me."
The word is the same as in the foregoing verse, where it is
said, " I am the Lord thy God, which brought thee out of
the land of Egypt." It is Elohim in both verses : I am
the Jehovah, thy Elohim : Thou shalt have no other Elo
him. Yet the latter Elohim is joined with an adjective of
the plural number ; which seems naturallv to lead the
children of Israel, to whom God spake these words, to
suppose a plurality in the Elohim which brought them
out of Egypt, implied in the name Jehovah. Ps. lviii. 11.
" Verily there is a God that judgeth in the earth ; Elohim
Shophetim :" Which literally is, Elohim, judges (in the
Slural number). See the evident distinction made between
ehovah sending, and Jehovah sent to the people, and
dwelling in the midst of them, in Zech. ii. 8, 9, 10, 11.
and iv. 8, 9, 11. " For thus saith the Lord of hosts, after
the glory hath he sent me unto the nations which spoiled
you : for he that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of his
eye." " For behold, I will shake mine hand upon them,
and they shall be a spoil to their servants : and ye shall
know that the Lord of hosts hath sent me." " Sing and
rejoice, O daughter of Zion : for, lo, I come, and I will
dwell in the midst of thee, saith the Lord." " And many
nations shall be joined to the Lord in that day, and shall
be my people : and I will dwell in the midst of thee, and
thou shalt know that the Lord of hosts hath sent me unto
thee." " Moreover the word of the Lord came unto me,
saying, The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation
of this house ; his hands shall also finish it ; and thou
shalt know that the Lord of hosts hath sent me unto you."
" Then answered I, and said unto him, What are these
two olive-trees upon the right side of the candlestick, and
upon the left side thereof?" Josh. xxiv. 19. "And Jo
shua said unto the people, Ye cannot serve Jehovah ; for
he is a holy God, Elohim Kedhoshim." He is the holy
Gods. Not only is the word Elohim properly plural, the
very same that is used, ver. 15. the gods which your fathers
served, &c. — but the adjective holy is plural. A plural
substantive and adjective are used here concerning the
True God, just in the same manner as in 1 Sam. iv. 8.
" Who shall deliver us out of the hands of these mighty
Gods." And in Dan. iv. 8. " In whom is the Spirit of
the holy Gods." So ver. 9, 18. and chap. v. 11. That
the plural number should thus be used with the epithet
Holy, agrees well with the doxology of the angels, " Holy,
holy, holy, Lord God of hosts," &c. — Isa. vi. and Rev. iv.
§ 6.4. It is an argument, that the Jews of old understood
that there were several persons in the Godhead, and parti
cularly, that when the cherubim, in the 6th of Isaiah,
cried, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord of hosts," they had re
spect to three persons : that the seventy interpreters, in
several places, where the Holy One of Israel is spoken of,
use the plural number; as in Isa. xii. 16. "Thou shalt
glory in the Holy One of Israel;" in the LXX it is,
ewppavOnirn ev toip ayiois Icrpan^. Isa. lx. 14. "The Zion of
the Holy One of Israel;" it is <""« ¦»•)"<¦>* i-p_nx. So Jer.
li. 5. " Filled with sin against the Holy One of Israel ;"

SEVENTEEN

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

SEVENTEEN OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

SERMON I.

Acts xvi. 29, 30.
Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trem
bling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought
them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?
We have here and in the context an account of the con
version of the jailer, which is one of the most remarkable
instances of the kind in the Scriptures. The jailer before
seems not only to have been wholly insensible to the things
of religion, but to have been a persecutor, and to have per
secuted these very men, Paul and Silas ; though he now
comes to them in so earnest a manner, asking them what
he must do to be saved. We are told in the context that
all the magistrates and multitude of the city rose up jointly
in a tumult against them, and took them, and cast them
into prison, charging the jailer to keep them safely.
Whereupon he thrust them into the inner prison, and made
their feet fast in the stocks. And it is probable he did
not act in this merely as the servant or instrument of
the magistrates, but that he joined with the rest of the
people in their rage against them, and that he did what he
did urged on by his own will, as well as the magistrates'
commands ; which made him execute their commands
with such rigour.
But when Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises at
midnight, and there was suddenly a great earthquake, and
God had in so wonderful a manner set open the prison
doors, and every man's bands were loosed, he was greatly
terrified ; and in a kind of desperation, was about to kiil
himself. But Paul" and Silas crying out to him, " Do
thyself no harm, for we are all here," then he called for a
light, and sprang in, as we have the account in the text.
We may observe,
1. The objects of his concern. He is anxious about his
salvation : he is terrified by his guilt, especially by his
guilt in his ill treatment of these ministers of Christ. He
is concerned to escape from that guilty state, the miserable
state he was in by reason of sin.
2. The sense which he has of the dreadfulness of his
present state. This he manifests in several ways.
1. By his great haste to escape from that state. By his
haste to inquire what he must do. He seems to be urged
by the most pressing concern, sensible of his present
necessity of deliverance, without any delay. Before, he
was quiet and secure in his natural state ; but now his eyes
are opened, he is in the utmost haste. If the house had
been on fire over his head, he could not have asked more
earnestly, or as being in greater haste. He could soon
have come to Paul and Siias, to ask them what he must
do, if he had only walked. But he was in too great
haste to walk only, or to run ; for he sprang in ; he
leaped into the place where they were. He fled from
vol. n. __. ' 3 o

wrath. He fled from the fire of divine justice, and so
hastened, as one that fled for his life.
2. By his behaviour and gesture before Paul and Silas.
He fell down. That he fell down before those whom he
had persecuted, and thrust into the inner prison, and
made their feet fast in the stocks, shows what was the
state of his mind. It shows some great distress, that
makes such an alteration in him, that brings him to this.
He was broken down, as it were, by the distress of his
mind, in a sense of the dreadfulness of his condition.
3. His earnest manner of inquiring of them what he
shall do to escape from this miserable condition ; " Sirs,
what must I do to be saved ?" So distressed, that he is
brought to be willing to do any thing ; to have salvation
on any terms, and by any means, however difficult;
brought, as it were, to write a blank, and give it in to God,
that God may prescribe his own terms.
Doctrine. They who are in a natural condition, are in
a dreadful condition. This I shall endeavour to make
appear by a particular consideration of the state and con
dition of unregenerate persons.
I. As to their actual condition in this world.
II. As to their relations to the future world.
I. The condition of those who are in a natural state, is
dreadful in the present world.
First. On account of the depraved state of their natures.
As men come into the world, their natures are dreadfully
depraved. Man in his primitive state was a noble piece
of divine workmanship ; but by the fall it is dreadfully
defaced. It is awful to think that so excellent a creature
as man is, should be so ruined. The dreadfulness of the
condition, which unconverted men are in in this respect,
appears in the following things :
1 . The dreadfulness of their depravity appears in that
they are so sottishly blind and ignorant. God gave man a
faculty of reason and understanding, which is a noble
faculty. Herein he differs from all other creatures here
below. He is exalted in his nature above them, and is in
this respect like the angels, and is made capable to know
God, and to know spiritual and eternal things. And God
gave him understanding for this end, that he might know
him, and know heavenly things, and made him as capable
to know these things as any others. But man has debased
himself, and has lost his glory in this respect. He has
become as ignorant of the excellency of God as the very
beasts. His understanding is full of darkness ; his mind
is blind, is altogether blind to spiritual things. Men are
ignorant of God, and ignorant of Christ, ignorant of the
way of salvation, ignorant of their own happiness, blind in
the midst of the brightest and clearest light, ignorant under
all manner of instructions. Romans iii. 17. " The way
of peace they have not known." Isa. xxvii. 11. " It
is a people of no understanding." Jer. iv. 22. " My
people is foolish, they have not known me; they are

818

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

sottish children, and have none understanding:" v. 21.
" Hear now this, O foolish people, and without under
standing." Psal. xcv. 10, 11. "It is a people that do err
in their heart, and they have not known my ways ; unto
whom I sware in my wrath, that they should not enter
into my rest." 1 Cor. xv. 34. " Some have not the know
ledge of God ; I speak this to your shame."
There is a spirit of atheism prevailing in the hearts of
men; a strange disposition to doubt of the very being of
God, and of another world, and of every thing which
cannot be seen with the bodily eyes. Psalm xiv. 1. "The
fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." They do
not realize that God sees them, when they commit sin,
and will call them to an account for it. And therefore, if
they can hide sin from the eyes of men, they are not con
cerned, but are bold to commit it. Psalm xciv. 7, 8, 9.
" Yet they say, the Lord shall not see, neither shall the
God of Jacob regard it. Understand, ye brutish among
the people; and, ye fools, when will ye be wise? He that
planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye,
shall he not see?" Psalm lxxiii. 11. " They say, How
doth God know? and is there knowledge in the Most
High ?" So sottishly unbelieving are they of future things,
of heaven and hell, and will commonly run the venture of
damnation sooner than be convinced. They are stupidly
senseless to the importance of eternal things. How hard
to make them believe, and to give them a real conviction,
that to be happy to all eternity is better than all other
good ; and to be miserable for ever under the wrath of
God, is worse than all other evil. Men show themselves
senseless enough in temporal things; but in spiritual
things far more so. Luke xii. 56. " Ye hypocrites, ye can
discern the face of the sky, and of the earth ; but how is
it that ye do not discern this time ?" They are very subtle
in evil designs; but sottish in those things which most
concern them. Jeremiah iv. 22. "They are wise to do
evil, but to do good they have no knowledge." Wicked
men show themselves more foolish and senseless of what
is best for them, than the very brutes. Isa. i. 3. " The
ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but
Israel dolh not know, my people doth not consider." Jer.
viii. 7. " Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her appoint
ed times ; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow
observe the time of their coming ; but my people know
not the judgment of the Lord."
2. They have no goodness in them. Romans vii. 18.
" In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing."
They have no principle that disposes them to any thing
that is good. Natural men have no higher principle in
their hearts than self-love. And herein they do not excel
the devils. The devils love themselves, and love their
own happiness, and are afraid of their own misery. And
they go no further. And the devils would be as religious
as the best of natural men, if they were in the same cir
cumstances. They would be as moral, and would pray
as earnestly to God, and take as much pains for salvation,
if there were the like opportunity. And as there is no
good principle in the hearts of natural men, so there are
never any good exercises of heart, never one good thought,
or motion of heart in them. Particularly, there is no love
to God in them. They never had the least degree of
love to the infinitely glorious Being. They never had the
least true respect to the Being that made them, and in
whose hand their breath is, and from whom are all their
mercies. However they may seem to do things at times
out of respect to God, and wear a face as though they ho
noured him, and highly esteemed him, it is all in mere
hypocrisy. Though there may be a fair outside, they are
like painted sepulchres ; within, there is nothing but pu
trefaction and rottenness. They have no love to Christ,
the glorious Son of God, who is so worthy of their love,
and has shown such wonderful grace to sinners in dying
for them. Thev never did any thing out of any real
respect to the Redeemer of the world, since they were
born. They never brought forth any fruit to that God,
who made them, and in whom ihey live, and move, and
have their being. They never have in any way answered
the end for which they were made. They have hitherto
lived altogether in vain, and to no purpose. They never
so much as sincerely obeyed one command of God ; never

so much as moved one finger out of a true spirit of obe
dience to him, who made them to serve him. And when
they have seemed outwardly to comply with God's com
mands, their hearts were not in it. They did not do it
out of any spirit of subjection to God, or any disposition
to obey him, but were merely driven to it by fear, or in
some way influenced by their worldly interest. They
never gave God the honour of one of his attributes. They
never gave him the honour of his authority by obeying
him. They never gave him the honour of his sovereignty
by submitting to him. They never gave him the honour
of his holiness and mercy by loving him. . They never
gave him the honour of his sufficiency and faithfulness by
trusting in him ; but have looked upon God as one not
fit to be believed or trusted, and have treated him as if he
were a liar. 1 John v. 10. " He that believeth not God
hath made him a liar." They never so much as heartily
thanked God for one mercy they have received in their
whole lives, though God has always maintained them,
and they have always lived upon his bounty. They never
so much as once heartily thanked Christ for coming into
the world, and dying to give them an opportunity to be
saved. They never would show him so much gratitude
as to receive him, when he has knocked at their door ;
but have always shut the door against him, though he has
come lo knock at their door upon no other ground but
only to offer himself to be their Saviour. They never so
much as had any true desires after God or Christ in their
whole lives. When God has offered himself to them to
be their portion, and Christ to be the friend of their souls,
they did not desire it. They never desired to have God
and Christ for their portion. They had rather be without
them than with them, if they could avoid going to hell
without them. They never had so much as an honour
able thought of God. They always have esteemed earthly
things before him. And notwithstanding all they have
heard in the commands of God and Christ, they have
always preferred a little worldly profit or sinful pleasure
before them.
3. Unconverted men are in a dreadful condition by rea
son of the dreadful wickedness which there is in them.
1. Sin is a thing of a dreadful nature, and that because
it is against an infinitely great and an infinitely holy God.
There is in the nature ot man enmity against God, con
tempt of God, rebellion against God. Sin rises up as an
enemy against the Most High. It is a dreadful thing for
a creature to be an enemy to the Creator, or to have any
such thing in his heart as enmity against him ; as will be
very clear, if we consider the difference between God and
the creature, and how all creatures, compared with him,
are as the small dust of the balance, are as nothing, less
than nothing, and vanity. There is an infinite evil in sin.
If we saw the hundredth part of the evil there is in sin, it
would make us sensible that those who have any sin, let it
be ever so small, are in a dreadful condition.
2. The hearts of natural men are exceedingly full of
sin. If they had but one sin in their hearts, it would be
sufficient lo render their condition very dreadful. But
they have not only one sin, but all manner of sin. There
is every kind of lust. The heart is a mere sink of sin, a
fountain of corruption, whence issue all manner of filthy
streams. Mark vii. 21, 22. "From within, out ofthe
heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornica
tions, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit,
lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness."
There is no one lust in the heart of the devil, that is not
in the heart of man. Natural men are in the image of the
devil. The image of God is rased out, and the image
of the devil is stamped upon them. God is graciously
pleased to restrain the wickedness of men, principally by
fear and respect to their credit and reputation, and by
education. And if it were not for such restraints as these,
there is no kind of wickedness that men would not com
mit, whenever it came in their way. The commission of
those things, at the mention of which men are now ready
to start, and seem to be shocked when they hear them
read, would be common and general ; and earth would be
a kind of hell. What would not natural men do if they
were not afraid ? Malthew x. 17. " But beware of men."
Men have not only every kind of lust, and wicked and

SERMON I.

819

perverse dispositions in their hearts, but they have them
to a dreadful degree. There is not only pride, but an
amazing degree of it : pride, whereby a man is disposed
to set himself even above the throne of God itself. The
hearts of natural men are mere sinks of sensuality. Man
is become like a beast in placing his happiness iii sensual
enjoyments. • The heart is full of the most loathsome
lusts. The souls of natural men are more vile and abo
minable than any reptile. If God should open a window
in the heart, so that we might look into it, it would be the
most loathsome spectacle that ever was set before our eyes.
There is not only malice in the hearts of natural men, but
a fountain of it.. . Men naturally therefore deserve the lan
guage applied to them by Christ, Matt. iii. 7. " O gene
ration of -vipers;" and Matt, xxiii. 33. " Ye serpents, ye
generation of vipers." Men, if it were not for fear and
other such restraints, would not only commit all manner
of sin, but to what degree, to what length would they not
proceed ! - What has a natural man to keep him from
openly blaspheming God, as much as any of the devils ;
yea, from dethroning him, if that were possible, and fear
and other such restraints were out of the way ? Yea, would
it not be thus with many of those, who now appear with a
fair face, and will speak most of God, and make many
pretences of worshipping and serving him ? The exceed
ing wickedness of natural men appears abundantly in tlie
sins they commit, notwithstanding all these restraints.
Every natural man, if he reflects, may see enough to show
him how exceedingly sinful he is. Sin flows from the
heart as constantly as water flows from a fountain. Jer.
vi. 7. " As a fountain casteth out her waters, so she cast-
eth out her wickedness." And this wickedness, that so
abounds in their hearts, has dominion over them. They
are slaves to it : Rom. vii. 14. " Sold under sin." They
are so under the power of sin, that they are driven on by
their lusts in a course against their own conscience, and
against their own interest. They are hurried on to their
own ruin, and that at the same time their reason tells them,
it will probably be their ruin : 2 Pet. ii. 14. " Cannot
cease from sin.' On account of wicked men's being so
under the power of sin, the heart of man is said to be
desperately wicked. Jer. xvii. 9. and Eph. ii. 1. "Dead
in trespasses and sins."
3. The hearts of natural men are dreadfully hard and
incorrigible. There is nothing but the mighty power of
God will move them. They will cleave to sin, and go on
in sin, let what will be done with them. Prov. xxvii. 22.
" Though thou shouldest bray a fool in a mortar among
wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness depart
from him." There is nothing that will awe our hearts ;
and there is nothing that will draw them to obedience : let
there be mercies or afflictions, threatenings or gracious
calls and invitations, frowning, or patience and long-suf
fering, or fatherly counsels and exhortations. Isa. xxvi. 10.
*' Let favour be showed to the wicked, yet will he not
learn righteousness ; in the land of uprightness will he
deal unjustly, and will not behold the majesty of the
Lord." Secondly. The relative state of those who are in an un
converted condition is dreadful. This will appear if we
consider, 1. Their relative state with respect to God; and that
because, 1. They are without God in the world. They have no
interest or part in God : he is not their God : he hath de
clared he will not be their God. Hos. i. 9. God and be
lievers have a mutual covenant relation and right to each
other. They are his people, and he is their God. But he
is not the covenant God of those who are in an uncon
verted state. There is a great alienation and estrangement
between God and the wicked : he is not their Father
and portion : they have nothing to challenge of God, they
have no right to any one of his attributes. The believer
can challenge a right in the power of God, in his wisdom
and holiness, his grace and love. All are made over to
him, to be for his benefit. But the unconverted can claim
no right in any of God's perfections. They have no God
to protect and defend them in this evil world : to defend
them from sin, or from Satan, or any evil. They have no
God to guide and direct them in any doubts or difficulties,
3 o 2

to comfort and support their minds under afflictions. They
are without God in all their affairs, in all the business
they undertake, in tlieir family affairs, and in their per
sonal affairs, in their outward concerns, and in the concerns
of their souls.
How can a creature be more miserable, than to be sepa
rated from the Creator, and to have no God, whom he can
call his own God ? He is wretched indeed, who goes up
and down in the world, without a God to take care of
him, to be his guide and protector, and to bless him in
his affairs. The very light of nature teaches that a man's
God is his all. Judg. xviii. 24. " Ye have taken away
my gods, and what have I more ?" There is but one God,
and in him they have no right. They are without that
God, whose will must determine their whole well being,
both here and for ever. That unconverted men are with
out God shows that they are liable to all manner of evil.
They are liable to the power of the devil, to the power of
all manner of temptation, for they are without God to pro
tect them. They are liable to be deceived and seduced
into eiToneous opinions, and to embrace damnable doc
trines. It is not possible to deceive the saints in this way.
But the unconverted may be deceived. They may become
papists, or heathens, or atheists. They have nothing to
secure them from it. They are liable to be given up of
God to judicial hardness of heart. They deserve it ; and
since God is not their God, they have no certainty that
God will not inflict this awful judgment upon them. As
they are without God in the world, they are liable to com
mit all manner of sin, and even the unpardonable sin itself.
They cannot be sure they shall not commit that sin. They
are liable to build up a false hope of heaven, and so to go
hoping to hell. They are liable to die senseless and stu
pid, as many have died. They are liable to die in such a
case as Saul and Judas did, fearless of hell. They have
no security from it. They are liable to all manner of mis
chief, since they are without God. They cannot tell what
shall befall them, nor when they are secure from any thing.
They are not safe one moment. Ten thousand fatal mis
chiefs may befall them, that may make them miserable for
ever. They, who have God for their God, are safe from
all such evils. It is not possible that they should befall
them. God is their covenant God, and they have his
faithful promise to be their refuge. But what mischief is
tliere which may not befall natural men ? Whatever hopes
they may have may be disappointed. Whatever fair
prospect there may seem to be of their conversion and sal
vation, it may vanish away. They may make great pro
gress towards the kingdom of God, and yet come short at
last. They may seem to be in a very hopeful way to be
converted, and yet never be converted. A natural man is
sure of nothing. He is sure of no good, nor is he sure
of escaping any evil. It is therefore a dreadful condition
that a natural man is in. They, who are in a natural state,
are lost. They have wandered from God, and they are
like lost sheep, that have wandered from their shepherd.
They are poor helpless creatures in a howling wilderness,
and have no shepherd to protect or to guide them. They
are desolate, and exposed to innumerable fatal mischiefs.
2. They are not only without God, but the wrath of
God abides upon them. John iii. 36. " He that believeth
not the Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of God abid
eth on him." There is no peace between God and them,
but God is angry with them every day. He is not only
angry with them, but that to a dreadful degree. There is
a fire kindled in God's anger ; it burns like fire. Wrath
abides upon them, which if it should be executed, would
plunge them into the lowest hell, and make them miser
able there to all eternity. They have provoked the Holy
One of Israel to anger. God has been angry with them
ever ance they began to sin: he has been provoked by
them every day, ever since they exercised any reason ; and
he is provoked by them more and more every hour. The
flame of his wrath is continually burning. There are many
now in hell that never provoked God more than they, nor
so much as many of them. Wherever they go, they go
about with the dreadful wrath of God abiding on them.
They eat, and drink, and sleep under wrath. How dread
ful a condition therefore are they in ! It is the most
awful thing for the creature to have the wrath of his Cre-

620

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

ator abiding on him. The wrath of God is a thing infi
nitely dreadful. The wrath of a king is as the roaring of
a lion ; but what is the wrath of a king, who is but a
worm of the dust, to the wrath of the infinitely great and
dreadful God ? How dreadful is it to be under the wrath
of the First Being, the Being of beings, the great Creator
and mighty possessor of heaven and earth ! How dread
ful is it for a person to go about under the wrath of God,
who gave him being, and in whom he lives and moves,
who is every where present, and without whom he cannot
move a step, nor draw a breath ! Natural men, inasmuch
as they are under wrath, are under a curse. God's wrath
and curse are continually upon them. They can have no
reasonable comfort, therefore, in any of their enjoyments ;
for they do not know but that they are given them in wrath,
and shall be curses to them, and not blessings. As it is
said in Job xviii. 15. " Brimstone shall be scattered upon
his habitation." How can they take any comfort in their
food, or in their possessions, when they do not know but
all are given them to fit them for the slaughter.
II. Their relative state will appear dreadful, if we con
sider how they stand related to the devil.
1. They who are in a natural state are the children of
the devil. As the saints are the children of God, so the
ungodly are the children of the devil. 1 John iii. 10. " In
this the children of God are manifest, and the children of
the devil." Matt. xiii. 38, 39. " The field is the world ; the
good seed are the children of the kingdom : but the tares
are the children of the wicked one. The enemy that
sowed them is the devil." John viii. 44. " Ye are of your
father, the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do."
They are, as it were, begotten of the devil ; they proceed
from him. 1 John iii. 8. " He that committeth sin, is of
the devil." As Adam begat a son in his own likeness, so
are wicked men in the likeness and image of the devil.
They acknowledge this relation, and own themselves chil
dren of the devil, by consenting that he should be their
father. They subject themselves to him, hearken to his
counsels, as children hearken to the counsels of a father.
They learn of him to imitate him, and do as he does, as
children learn to imitate their parents. John viii. 38. "I
speak that which I have seen with my Father, and ye do
that which ye have seen with your father." How awful a
state is this 1 How dreadful is it to be a child of the devil,
the spirit of darkness, the prince of hell, that wicked, ma
lignant, and cruel spirit ! To have any thing to do with
him is very dreadful. It would be accounted a dreadful,
frightful thing only to meet the devil, to have him appear
to a person in a visible shape. How dreadful then must
it be to be his child ; how dreadful for any person to have
the devil for his father !
2. They are the devil's captives and servants. Man be
fore his fall was in a state of liberty ; but now he has fallen
into Satan's hands. The devil has got the victory, and
carried him captive. Natural men are in Satan's posses
sion, and they are under his dominion. They are brought
by him into subjection to his will, to go at his bidding,
and do what he commands. 2 Timothy ii. 26. "Taken
captive by him at his will." The devil rules over ungodly
men. They are all his slaves, and do his drudging. This
argues their state to be dreadful. Men account it an un
happy .state of life to be slaves ; and especially to be
slaves io a bad master, to one who is very hard, unreason
able, and cruel. How miserable do we look upon those
persons, who are taken captive by the Turks, or other
such barbarous nations, and put by them to the meanest and
most cruel slavery, and treated no better than they treat
their cattle ! But what is this to being taken captive by
the devil, the prince of hell, and made a slave to him ?
Had not a man better be a slave to any one on earth than
to the devil ? The devil is, of all masters, the most cruel,
and treats his servants the worst. He puts them to the
vilest service, to that which is the most dishonourable of
any in the world. No work is so dishonourable as the
practice of sin. The devil puts his servants to such work
as debases them below the dignity of human nature.
They must make themselves like beasts to do that work
to serve their filthy lusts. And besides the meanness of
the work, it is a very hard service. The devil causes them
to serve him at the expense ofthe peace of their own con

science, and oftentimes at the expense of their reputation,
at the expense of their estates, and shortening of their days.
The devil is a cruel master ; for the service upon which
he puts his slaves, is to undo themselves. He keeps them
hard at work day and night, to work their own ruin. He
never intends to give them any reward for their pains, but
their pains are to work out their own everlasting destruc
tion. -.- It is to gather fuel and kindle the fire for themselves
to be tormented in to all eternity.
3. The soul of a natural man is the habitation of the
devil. The devil is not only their father, and rules over
them, but he dwells in them. It is a dreadful thing for a
man to have the devil near him, often coming to him..
But it is a more dreadful thing to have him dwell with a
man, to take up his constant abode with him ; and more
dreadful yet to have him dwell in him, to take up his
abode in his heart. But thus it is with every natural man.
He takes up his abode in his heart. As the soul of a
godly man is the habitation of the Spirit of God, so is the
soul of a wicked man the habitation of unclean spirits. As.
the soul of a godly man is the temple of God, so the soul
of a wicked man is the synagogue of Satan. A wicked
man's soul is in Scripture called Satan's house, and Satan's
palace. Matthew xii. 27. " How can one enter into a
strong man's house ?" meaning the devil. And Luke xi.
21. " When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his
goods are in peace." Satan not only lives, but reigns, in
the heart of a wicked man. He has not only taken up his
abode there, but he has set up his throne there. The heart
of a wicked man, is the place of the devil's rendezvous.
The doors of a wicked man's heart are open to devils.
They have free access there, though they are shut against
God and Jesus Christ. There are many devils, no doubt,.
that have to do with one wicked man, and his heart is the
place where they meet. The soul of a wicked man is, as
it was said of Babylon, the habitation of devils, and the
hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and
hateful bird. Thus dreadful is the condition of a natural,
man by reason of the relation in which he stands to the
devil. II. The state of unconverted men is very dreadful, if we
consider its relation to the future world. Our state here is.
not lasting, but transitory. We are pilgrims and strangers
here, and are principally designed for a future world. We
continue in this present state but a short time ; but we are
to be in that future state to all eternity. And therefore
men are to be denominated either happy or miserable,
chiefly with regard to that future state. It matters but-
little comparatively what our state is here, because it will-
continue but a short time ; it is nothing to eternity. But
that man is a happy man who is entitled to happiness,
and he is miserable who is in danger of misery, in his
eternal state. Prosperity or adversity in the present state
alters them but very little, because this state is of so short
continuance. 1. Those who are in a natural condition, have no title
to any inheritance in another world. There are glorious
things in another world ; there are unsearchable riches, an
unspeakable and inconceivable abundance ; but they have
nothing to do with it. Heaven is a world of glory and
blessedness ; but they have no right to the least portion of
those blessings. If they should die and go out of the
world as they are, they would go destitute, having no in
heritance, no friend, no enjoyments to go to. They will
have no God to whom they may go, no Redeemer to re
ceive their departing souls, no angel to be a ministering
spirit to them, to take care of them, to guard or defend
them, no interest in that Redeemer, who has purchased
those blessings. What is said of the Ephesians is true of
those who are in a natural condition. " At that time ye
were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth
of Israel, and strangers from the covenant of promise,
having no hope, and without God in the world." What
a dreadful case they are in, who live in the world having
no hope, without any title to any benefits hereafter, and
without any ground to hope for any good in their future
and eternal state 1
2. Natural men are in a dreadful condition, because of
the misery to which they are exposed in the future wofld>
This will be obvious, if we consider,

SERMON I.

821

1 . How great the misery is of which they are in danger ;
2. How great is their danger of this misery.
1 . How great the misery is of which they are in danger.
It is great in two respects ; 1 . The torment and misery are
great in themselves ; and, 2. They are of endless duration.
1. The torment and misery, of which natural men are
in danger, are exceedingly great in themselves. They are
great beyond any of our words or thoughts. When we speak
of them, our words are swallowed up. We say they are great,
and exceedingly great, and very dreadful. But when we
have used all the words we can to express them, how faint
is the idea that is raised in our minds in comparison with
the reality ! This misery will appear very dreadful, if we
consider what calamities meet together in it. In it the
wicked are deprived of all good, separated from God and
all fruits of his mercy. In this world they enjoy many of
the streams of God's goodness. But in the future world
they will have no more smiles of God, no more manifes
tations of his mercy by benefits, by warnings, by calls and
invitations. He will never more manifest his mercy by
the exercise of patience and long-suffering, by waiting to
be gracious ; no more use any forbearance with them for
tlieir good ; no more exercise his mercy by strivings of
his Spirit, by sending messengers and using means. They
will have no more testimonies pf the fruits of God's good
ness in enjoying food and raiment, and comfortable dwell
ings and convenient accommodations, nor any of the com
forts of this life ; no more manifestations of his mercy by
suffering them to draw near to him with their prayers, to
pray for what they need. God will exercise no pity to
wards them, no regard for their welfare. Cut off from all
the comforts of this life, shut out of heaven, they will see
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven ;
but they shall be turned away from God and from all
good into the blackness of darkness, into the pit of hell,
into that great receptacle, which God has provided on pur
pose to cast into it the filthy, and polluted, and abomina
ble of the universe. They will be in a most dreadful con
dition ; they will have no friends. God will be their enemy,
angels and the spirits of the just will be their enemies, devils
and damned spirits will be their enemies. They will be
hated with perfect hatred, will have none to pity them,
none to bemoan their case, or to be any comfort to them.
It appears that the state of the damned will be exceedingly
dreadful in that they will suffer the wrath of God, execut
ed to the full upon them, poured out without mixture.
They shall bear the wrath of the Almighty. They shall
know how dreadful the wrath of an Almighty God is.
Now none knows, none can conceive. Psalm xc. 11.
" Who knoweth the power of thine anger ?" Then they
shall feel the weight of God's wrath. In this world they
have the wrath of God abiding on them, but then it will
be executed upon them ; now they are the objects of it,
but then they will be the subjects of it. Now it hangs
over them, but then it shall fall upon them in its full
weight without any alleviation, or any moderation or re
straint. Their souls and their bodies shall then be filled
full with the wrath of God. Wicked men shall be as full
of wrath as any thing that glows in the midsj of a furnace
is of fire. The wrath of God is infinitely more dreadful
than fire. Fire, yea the fiercest fire, is but an image and
shadow of it. The vessels of wrath shall be filled up with
wrath to the brim. Yea, they shall be plunged into a sea
of wrath. And therefore hell is compared to a lake of fire
and brimstone, because there wicked men are overwhelm
ed and swallowed up in wrath, as men who are cast into
a lake or sea, are swallowed up in water. O who can
conceive of the dreadfulness of the wrath of an Almighty
God ! Everv thing in God is answerable to his infinite
greatness. When God shows mercy, he shows mercy like
a- God. His love is infinitely desirable, because it is the
love of God. And so when he executes wrath it is like a
God. This God will pour out without mixture. Reve
lations xiv. 10. " The same shall drink of the wine of the
wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into
the cup of his indignation ; and he shall be tormented
with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels,
and in the presence of the Lamb." No mixture of mercy
or pity ; nothing thrown into the cup of wrath to assuage
or moderate it. "God shall cast upon him and not spare."

Job xxvii. 22. They shall be cast into the wine-press of
the wrath of God, where they shall be pressed down with
wrath, as grapes are pressed in a wine-press. Rev. xiv.
19. " Cast into the great wine-press of the wrath of God."
God will then make appear in their misery how terrible
his wrath is, that men and angels may know how much
more dreadful the wrath of God is, than the wrath of kings,
or any creatures. They shall know what God can do to
wards his enemies, and how fearful a thing it is to pro
voke him to anger.
If a few drops of wrath do sometimes so distress the
minds of men in this world, so as to be more dreadful
than fire, or any bodily torment, how dreadful will be a
deluge of wrath ; how dreadful will it be, when all God's
mighty waves and billows of wrath pass over them !
Every" faculty of the soul shall be filled with wrath, and
every part of the body shall be filled with fire. After the
resurrection the body shall be cast into that great furnace,
which shall be so great as to burn up the whole world.
These lower heavens, this air and this earth, shall all be
come one great furnace, _ furnace that shall burn the
earth, even to its very centre. In this furnace shall the
bodies of the wicked lie to all eternity, and yet live, and
have their sense of pain and torment not at all diminished.
O, how full will the heart, the vitals, the brain, the eyes,
the tongue, the hands, and the feet be of fire ; of this fire
of such an inconceivable fierceness ! How full will every
member, and every bone, and every vein, and every sinew,
be of this fire ! Surely it is a fearful thing to fall into the
hands of the living God. Who can bear such wrath ? A
little of it is enough to destroy us. Psalm ii. 12. "Kiss
the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way,
when his wrath is kindled but a little." But how will
men be overwhelmed, how will they sink, when God's
wrath is executed in so dreadful a degree ! The misery
which the damned will endure, will be their perfect de
struction. Psalm 1. 22. "Now consider this, ye that for
get God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there be none to
deliver," In several places the wicked are compared to the stubble,
and to briers and thorns before devouring flames, and to
the fat of lambs, which consumes into smoke. Psalm
xxxvii. 20. "But the wicked shall perish, and the enemies
of the Lord shall be as the fat of lambs ; they shall con
sume ; into smoke shall they consume away." They shall
be as it were ground to powder under the weight of God's
wrath. Matthew xxi. 24. Their misery shall be perfect
misery ; and because damnation is the perfect destruction
of a creature, therefore it is called death. It is eternal
death, of which temporal death, with all its awful circum
stances, is but a faint shadow. The struggles, and groans,
and gasps of the body when dying, its pale awful visage
when dead, its state in the dark grave when it is eaten
with worms, are but a faint shadow of the state of the
soul under the second death. How dreadful the state of
the damned is, we may argue from the desert of sin.
One sin deserves eternal death and damnation, which, in
the least degree of it, is the total destruction of the crea
ture. How dreadful, then, is the misery of which natural
persons are in danger, who have lived some time in the
world, and have committed thousands and thousands of
sins, and have filled up many years with a course of sin
ning, and have committed many great sins, with high
aggravations, who have sinned against the glorious gospel
of Christ, and against great light, whose guilt is far more
dreadful than that of the people of Sodom and Gomorrah !
How dreadful is the punishment to which they are ex
posed, in which all their sins shall be punished according
to their desert, and the uttermost farthing shall be exacted
of them ! The punishment of one idle word, or sinful
thought, would be more than they could bear. How then
will they bear all the wrath that shall be heaped upon
them for all their multiplied and aggravated transgressions ?
If one sin deserves eternal death and damnation, how
many deaths and damnations will they have accumulated
upon them at once ! Such an aggravated, multiplied death
must they die every moment, and always continue dying
such a death, and yet never be dead. Such misery as th is
may well be called the blackness of darkness. Hell may-
well be called the bottomless pit, if the misery is so un-

822

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

fathomably great. Men sometimes have suffered extreme
torment in this world. Dreadful have been the sufferings
of some of the martyrs ; but how little those are, in com
parison of the sufferings of the damned, we may leam
from 1 Peter iv. 16, 17, 18. "Yet if any man suffer as a
Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God
on this behalf. For the time is come, that judgment must
begin at the house of God ; and if it first begin at us,
what shall the end be of those that obey not the gospel
of God ? And if the righteous scarcely be saved, where
shall the ungodly and sinner appear?" The apostle is
here speaking of the sufferings of Christians ; and from
thence he argues, that seeing their sufferings are so great,
how unspeakably great will be the sufferings of the
wicked ! And if judgment begins with them, what shall
be the end of those who obey not the gospel ! As much
as to say, the sufferings of the righteous are nothing to
what those, who obey not the gospel, are. How dreadful,
therefore, does this argue their misery to be ! Well may
the sinners in Zion be afraid, and fearful, and surprised.
Well may the kings of the earth, and the great men, and
rich men, and chief captains, and every bond man, and
every free man, hide themselves in the dens, and in the
rocks of the mountains, at Christ's second coming ; and
cry and say to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and
hi_e us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne,
and from the wrath of the Lamb ; for the great day of his
wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand ? Well
may there be weeping and gnashing of teeth in hell, where
there is such misery. Thus the misery of those who are
in a natural condition, is, in itself exceedingly great.
2. It is of endless duration. The misery is not only
amazingly great, and extreme, but of long continuance ;
yea, of infinitely long continuance. It never will have
any end. There will be no deliverance, no rest, no hope ;
but they will last throughout all eternity. Eternity is a
thing in the thought of which our minds are swallowed
up. As it is infinite in itself, so it is infinitely beyond the
comprehension of our minds. The more we think of it,
the more amazing will it seem to us. Eternity is a du
ration, to which a long period of time bears no greater
proportion than a short period. A thousand years, or a
thousand ages, bear no greater proportion to eternity than
a minute ; or which is the same thing, a thousand ages
are as much less than eternity as a minute. A minute
comes as near an equality to it ; .or you may take as many
thousand ages out of eternity, as you can minutes. If a
man by the utmost skill in arithmetic, should denote or
enumerate a great number of ages, and should rise by
multiplication to ever so prodigious numbers, should
make as great figures as he could, and rise in multiplying
as fast as he couid, and should spend his life in multiply
ing ; the product of all would be no nearer equal to the
duration which the wicked must spend in the misery of
hell, than one minute. Eternity is that, which cannot be
made less by subtraction. If we take from eternity a
thousand years or ages, the remainder is not the less for it.
Eternity is that which will for ever be but beginning, and
that because all the time which is past, let it be ever so
long, is but a point to what remains. The wicked, after
they have suffered millions of ages, will be. as it were,
but in the first point, only setting out in their sufferings.
It will be no comfort to them that so much is gone, for
they will have none the less to bear. There will never a
time come, when, if what is past, is compared to what is
to come, it will not be as a point, and as nothing. The
continuance of their torment cannot be measured out by
revolutions of the sun, or moon, or stars, by centuries or
ages. They shall continue suffering after these heavens
and this earth shall wax old as a garment, till the whole
visible universe is dissolved. Yea, they shall remain in
their misery through millions of such ages as are equal
to the age of the sun, and moon, and stars, and still it
will be all one, as to what remains, still no nearer the end
of their misery. Matthew xxv. 41. "Depart from me, ye
cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his
angels." Mark ix. 44. "Where their worm dieth not, and
the fire is not quenched." Revelation xx. 10. "They shall
be tormented day and night for ever and ever." And xiv.
11. "The smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever

and ever." The damned in hell in their misery, will be in
absolute despair. They shall know that their misery will
have no end, and therefore they will have no hopes of it.
O, who can conceive the dreadfulness of such despair as
this in the midst of such torment ! Who can express, or
think any thing how dreadful the thought of eternity is to
them, who are under so great torment ! To what un
fathomable depths of woe will it sink them ! With what a
gloom and blackness of darkness will it fill them ! What
a boundless gulf of sorrow and woe is the thought of
eternity to the damned, who shall be in absolute and utter
despair of any deliverance !
How dreadful, then, is the condition of those who are
in a natural state, who are in danger of such misery.
2. The dreadfulness of their condition will appear by
considering how great their danger is of this misery. This
will be obvious from the following things :
1. Their danger is such, that continuing in their present
state, they will unavoidably sink into this misery.
1. The state in which natural persons now are, naturally
tends to it. And this, because they are separate from God,
and destitute of any spiritual good. The soul that is in
a state of separation from its Creator, must be miserable,
because he is separate from the fountain of all good. He
that is separate from God, is in great danger of ruin, be
cause he is without any defence. He that is separate from
God, must perish, if he continue so, because it is from
God only that he can have those supplies which can make
him happy. It is with the soul as it is with the body.
The body without supplies of sustenance will miserably
famish, and die. So the souls of natural men are in a
famishing condition. They are separate from God, and
therefore are destitute of any spiritual good, which can
nourish the soul, or keep-it alive; like one that is remote
in a wilderness, where he has nothing to eat or drink, and
therefore, if he continue so, will unavoidably die. So the
state of natural men naturally tends to that dreadful
misery of the damned in hell, because they are separate
from God.
2. They are under the power of a mortal disease, which,
ifitbenot healed, will surely bring them tothis death. They
are under the power and dominion of sin, and sin is a
mortal disease of the soul. If it is not cured, it will
certainly bring them to death; viz. to that second death
of which we have heard. The infection of the disease has
powerfully seized their vital parts. The whole head is
sick, the whole heart faint. The disease is inveterate. The
infection is spread throughout the whole frame ; the very
nature is corrupted and ruined ; and the whole must come
to ruin, if God by his mighty power does not heal the dis
ease. The soul is under a mortal wound ; a wound deep
and dreadfully confirmed. Its roots reach the most vital
parts ; yea, they are principally seated there. There is a
plague upon the heart, which corrupts and destroys the
source of life, ruins the whole frame of nature, and hastens
an inevitable death. There is a most deadly poison, which
has been infused into, and spread over, the man. He has
been bitten by a fiery serpent, whose bite issues in a most
tormenting death. Sin is that, which does as naturally
tend to the misery and ruin of the soul, as the most mor
tal poison tends to the death of the body. We look upon
persons far gone in a consumption, or with an incurable
cancer, or some such malady, as in doleful circumstances.
But that mortal disease, under whose power natural men
are, makes their case a thousand times more doleful. That
mortal disease of natural men does* as it were, ripen them
for damnation. We read of the clusters of the vine of
the earth being for the wine-press of the wrath of God;
Rev. xiv. 18. where by the clusters of the vine are meant
wicked men. The wickedness of natural men tends to
sink them down to hell, as the weight of a stone causes it
to tend towards the centre of the earth. Natural men
have, as it were, the seeds of hell within their own hearts.
Those principles of sin and corruption, which are in them,
if they remain unmortified, will at length breed the tor
ment of hell in them, and that necessarily, and of their
own tendency. The soul that remains under the power
of sin will at length take fire of itself. Hell will kindle
in them.
2. If they continue in their present state, this misery

SERMON I.

823

appears to be unavoidable, if we consider the justice and
truth of God.
1. If they continue in their present condition, so surely
as God is just, they shall suffer the eternal misery of which
we have heard. The honour of God's justice requires it,
and God will not disparage his own justice. He will not
deny his own honour and glory, but will glorify himself
on the wicked, as well as the godly. He will not lose his
honour of any one of his creatures, which he has made.
It is impossible that God should be frustrated or disap
pointed. And, so surely as God will not be frustrated, so
surely shall they who continue in a natural condition,
suffer that eternal misery, of which we have heard. The
avenging justice of God is one of the perfections of his
nature, and he will glorify all his perfections. God is
unalterable in this as well as his other perfections. His
justice shall and must be satisfied. He has declared that
he will by no means clear the guilty. Exod. xxxiv. 7. ;
and that he will not justify the wicked. Exod. xxiii. 7.
And that he will not at all acquit the wicked. Nahum i.
3. God is a strictly just Judge. When men come to'
stand before him, he will surely judge them according to
their works. They that have guilt iying upon them, he
will surely judge according to their guilt. The debt they
owe to justice, must be paid to the uttermost farthing.
It is impossible that any one, who dies in his sins, should
escape everlasting condemnation and punishment before
such a Judge. He will render to every man according to
his deeds ; Rom. ii. 8. " Unto them that are contentious,
and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, in
dignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every
soul of man that doeth evil." It is impossible to in
fluence God to be otherwise than just in judging ungodly
men. There is no bribing him. He accepteth not the
person of princes, nor regardeth the rich more than the
poor. Deut. x. 17. " He regardeth not persons, nor taketh
reward." It is impossible to influence him to be other
wise than strictly just, by any supplications, or tears, or
cries. God is inexorably just. The cries and the moans of
the malefactor will have no influence upon this Judge to
pass a more favourable judgment on them, so as in any
way to acquit or release them. The eternal cries, and
groans, and lamentations of the wicked, will have no in
fluence upon him. Though they are ever so long con
tinued, they will not prevail upon God.
2. So surely as God is true, if they die yp the state they
are now in, they shall suffer that eternal misery. God has
threatened it in a positive and absolute manner. The
threatenings of the law are absolute ; and they who are
in a natural state, are under the condemnation of the law.
The threatening of the law takes hold upon them ; and if
they continue under guilt, God is obliged by his word to
punish them according to that threatening. And he has
often, in the most positive and absolute manner, declared
that the wicked shall be cast into hell ; that they who be
lieve not shall be damned ; that they shall have their por
tion in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone ; and
that their misery shall never have an end. And therefore,
if there be any truth in God, it shall surely be so. It is
as impossible that he who dies in a natural condition,
should escape suffering that eternal misery, as that God
should lie. The word of God is stronger and firmer than
mountains of brass, and shall not fail. We shall sooner
see heaven and earth pass away, than one jot or tittle of
all that God hath said in his word not be fulfilled. So much
for the first thing, that evinces the greatness of the danger
that natural men are in of hell ; viz. that they will un
avoidably sink into hell, if they continue in such a condition.
2. Their danger will appear very dreadful, if we consider
how uncertain it is, whether they will ever get out of this
condition. It is very uncertain whether they will ever be
converted. If they should die in their present condition,
their misery is certain and inevitable. But it is very
doubtful whether they will not die in such a condition.
There is great danger that they will ; great danger of their
never being converted. And this will appear, if we con
sider two things.
1. They have nothing on which to depend for con
version. They have nothing in the world, by which to
persuade themselves that they shall ever be converted.

Left to themselves, they never will repent and turn to
God. If they are ever converted, therefore, it is God who
must do it. .'But they have no promise of God, that they
ever shall be converted. They do not know how soon they
may die. God has not promised them long life; and he
has not promised them that they shall be ready for death
before they die. It is but a perad venture, whether God
will ever give them repentance to the acknowledging of the
truth. 2 Tim. ii. 25. Their resolutions are not to be de
pended on. If they have convictions, they are not to be
depended on ; they may lose those convictions. Their
conversion depends on innumerable uncertainties. It is
very uncertain, then, whether they will be converted before
they die.
2. Another thing which shows the danger there is that
they shall never be converted, is, that there are but few,
comparatively, who are ever converted. But few of those,
who have been natural persons in time past, have been
converted. Most of them have died unconverted. So it
has been in all ages, and hence we have reason to think
that but few of them, who are unconverted now, will ever
be converted ; that most of them will die unconverted,
and will go to hell. Natural persons are ready to flatter
themselves, that they shall be converted. They think there
are signs of it. But a man would not run the venture of
so much as a sixpence in such an uncertainty as they are,
about their ever being converted, or not going to hell. This
shows the doleful condition of natural men, as it is uncer
tain whether they shall ever be converted.
3. They who are in a natural condition, are in danger
of going to hell every day. Those now present, who are
in a natural condition, are in danger of dropping into hell
before to-morrow morning. They have nothing to depend
on, to keep them out of hell one day, or one night. We
know not what a day may bring forth. God has not pro
mised to spare them one day ; and he is every day angry
with them. The black clouds, that are full of the thunder
of God's wrath, hang over their heads every day, and they
know not how soon the thunder will break forth upon their
heads. Natural men are in Scripture compared to those
that walk in slippery places. They know not when their
feet will slip. They are continually in danger. Psalm
lxxiii. 18. " Surely thou didst set them in slippery places ;
thou castedst them down into destruction. How are they
brought into desolation as in a moment." Natural men
hang over the pit of hell, as it were, by a thread, that has a
moth continually gnawing it. They know not when it will
snap in twain, and let them drop. They are in the utmost
uncertainty ; they are not secure one moment. A natural
man never goes to sleep, but that he is in danger of waking
in hell. Experience abundantly teaches the matter to be
so. It shows, by millions of instances, that man is not
certain of life one day. And how common a thing is it
for death to come suddenly and unexpectedly ! And
thousands, beyond all reasonable question, are going to
hell every day, and death comes upon them unexpectedly.
" When they shall say, peace and safety, then sudden
destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman
with child ; and they shall not escape." It is a dreadful
condition that natural persons are in upon this account ;
and no wise person would be in their condition for a
quarter of an hour for the whole world, because such is
the danger that they will drop into hell before that quarter
of an hour is expired.
Thus I have shown how dreadful the condition of na
tural men is, relatively considered. I shall mention two
or three things more, which yet further make it appear
how doleful their condition is.
1. The longer it continues, the worse it grows. This is
an awful circumstance in the condition of a natural man.
Any disease is looked upon as the more dreadful, for its
growing and increasing nature. Thus a cancer and gan
grene are regarded as dreadful calamities, because they
continually grow and spread ; and the faster they grow,
the more dreadful are they accounted. It would be dread
ful to be in a natural condition, if a person could continue
as he is, and his condition grow no worse ; if he could
live in a natural condition, and never have it anymore
dreadful, than when he first begins to sin. But it is yet
much more dreadful; when we consider that it every day

824

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

becomes worse and worse. The condition of natural men
is worse to-day than it was yesterday, and that on several
accounts. The heart grows more and more polluted and
hardened. The longer sin continues iinmortified, the more
is it strengthened and rooted. Their guilt also grows
greater, and hell every day grows hotter ; for they are
every day adding sin to sin, and so their iniquity is in
creasing over their heads more and more. Every new sin
adds to the guilt. Every sin deserves eternal death for its
punishment. And therefore in every sin that a man com
mits, there is so much added to the punishment, to which
he lies exposed. There is, as it were, another eternal death
added to augment his damnation. And how much is
added to the account in God's book every day ; how many
new sins are set down, that all may be answered for; each
one of which sins must be punished, that by itself would
be an eternal death ! How fast do wicked men heap up
guilt, and treasure up wrath, so long as they continue in a
natural condition ! How is God more and more provoked,
his wrath more and more incensed ; and how does hell-fire
continually grow hotter and hotter ! If a man has lived
twenty years in a natural condition, the fire has been in
creased every day since he has lived. It has been, as it
were, blown u p to a greater and greater degree of fierce
ness. Yea, how dreadfully does one day's continuance in
sin add to the heat of hell-fire !
2. All blessings are turned into curses to those who live
and die in such a condition. Those things which are most
pleasant and comfortable, and which men esteem the bless
ings of life, are but curses unto such ; as their meat, and
their drink, and their raiment. There is a curse goes with
every mouthful of meat, and every drop of drink, to such a
person. There is a curse with his raiment which he puts
on ; it all contributes to his misery. Though it may please
him, yet it does him no good, but he is the more miserable
for it. If he has any enjoyment which is sweet and plea
sant to him, the pleasure is a curse to him; he is really
the more miserable for it. It is an occasion of death
to him. His possessions, which he values himself upon,
and sets his heart upon, are turned into a curse to him.
His house has the curse of God upon it, and his table is a
snare and a trap to him. Psalm lxix. 22. His bed has
God's curse upon it. When he lies down to sleep, a curse
attends his rest ; and when he goes forth to labour, he is
followed with a curse on that. The curse of God is upon
his fields, on his corn, and herds, and all he has. If he
has friends and relations, who are pleasant and dear to
him, they are no blessings to him. He receives no com
fort by them, but they prove a curse to him. I say it is
thus with those who live and die in a natural condition.
Deuteronomy xxviii. 16, &c. " Cursed shalt thou be in
the city, and cursed shalt thou be in the field. Cursed
shall be thy basket, and thy store. Cursed shall be the
fruit of thy body, and the fruit of thy land, and the increase
of thy kine, and the flocks of thy sheep. Cursed shalt
thou be when thou comest in, and cursed shalt thou be
when thou goest out. The Lord shall send upon thee
cursing, vexation, and rebuke, in all that thou settest thine
hand unto for to do, until thou be destroyed, and until
thou perish quickly ; because of the wickedness of thy
doings, whereby thou hast forsaken me." Man's faculties
of reason and understanding, and all his natural powers,
are turned into a curse. Yea, spiritual mercies and privi
leges shall also be turned into a curse to those who live
and die in a natural condition. A curse goes with the
worship of God, and with sabbaths and sacraments, with
instruction, and counsels, and warnings, and with the
most precious advantages. They are all turned into a
curse. They are a savour of death unto death. They do
but harden the heart, and aggravate the guilt and miserv,
and inflame the divine wrath. Isaiah vi. 9, 10. " Go,
make the heart of this people fat." 2 Cor. ii. 16. " To the
one we are the savour of death unto death." It will only
be an occasion of their misery, that God ever sent Christ
into the world to save sinners. That which is in itself so
glorious a manifestation of God's mercy, so unspeakable a
gift, that which is an infinite blessing to others who re
ceive Christ, will be a curse unto them. 1 Peter ii. 8. " A
stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence.'' Tlie blood of
Christ, which is the price of eternal life and glory to some,

is an occasion of sinking them vastly the lower into eternal
burnings. And that is the case of such persons ; the more
precious any mercies are in themselves, the more of a curse
are they to them. The better the things are in themselves,
the more will they contribute to their misery. And spirit
ual privileges, which are in themselves greater mercies
than any outward enjoyments, will above all other things
prove a curse to them. Nothing will enhance their con
demnation so much as these. On account of these, it will
be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of
judgment, than for them. Yea, so doleful is the condition
of natural men, that if they live and die in that condition,
not only the enjoyments of life, but life itself, will be a
curse to them. The longer they live, the more miserable
will they be ; the sooner they die, the better. If they live
long in such a condition, and die in it at last, it would
have been better for them if they had died before. It
would have been far better for them to have spent the
time in hell, than on earth ; yea, better for them to have
spent ten thousand years in hell, instead of one on earth.
When they look back, and consider what enjoyments they
have had, they will wish they had never had them. Though
when on earth they set their hearts on their earthly enjoy
ments, they will hereafter wish they had been without
them ; for they will see they have only fitted them for the
slaughter. They will wish they never had had their
houses and lands, their garments, their earthly friends,.
their earthly possessions. And so they will wish that they
had never enjoyed the light of the gospel, that they had
been born among the heathen in some of the most dark
and barbarous places of the earth. They will wish that
Christ had never come into the world to die for sinners,
so as to give men any opportunity to be saved. They will
wish that God had cast off fallen man, as he did the
fallen angels, and had never made him the offer of a
Saviour. They will wish that they had died sooner,
and had not had so much opportunity to increase their
guilt and their misery. They will wish they had died in
their childhood, and been sent to hell then. They will
curse the day that ever they were bom, and wish they had
been made vipers and scorpions, or any thing, rather than
rational creatures.
3. They have no security from the most dismal horrors
of mind in this life. They have no security, but their
stupidity. A natural man can have no comfort or peace
in a natural condition, but that of. which blindness and
senselessness are the foundation. And from what has
been said, that is the very evil. A natural man can have
no comfort in any thing in this world any further, than
thought and consideration of mind are kept down in him ;
as you make a condemned malefactor senseless of his
misery by putting him to sleep with opium, or make him
merry just before his execution by giving him something
to deprive him of the use of reason, so that he shall not
be sensible of his own circumstances. Otherwise, there
is no peace or comfort, which a natural man can have in
a natural condition. Isa. xlviii. 22. " There is no peace,
saith my God, to the wicked." Job xv. 20. " The wicked
man travaileth with pain all his days. A dreadful sound
is in his ears." The doleful state of a natural man appears
especially from the horror and amazement to which he is
liable on a death-bed. To have the heavy hand of God
upon one in some dangerous sickness, which is wasting
and consuming the body, and likely to destroy it, and to
have a prospect of approaching death, and of soon going
into eternity, there to be in such a condition as this : to
what amazing apprehensions must the sinner be liable !
How dismal must his state be, when the disease prevails*
so that there is no hope that he shall recover, when the
physician begins to give him over, and friends to despair
of his life ; when death seems to hasten on, and he is at
the same time perfectly blind to any spiritual object,
altogether ignorant of God, of Christ, and of the way of
salvation, having never exercised one act of love to God
in his life, or done one thing for his glory ; having then
every lust and corruption in its full strength ; having them
such enmity in the heart against God, as to be ready to '
dethrone him, if that were possible ; having no right in
God, or interest in Christ ; having the terrible wrath of
God abiding on him ; being yet the child of the devil.

SERMON I.

825

entirely in his possession and under his power ; with no
hope to maintain him, and with the full view of never-
ending misery just at the door. What a dismal case must
a natural man be in under such circumstances ! How
will his heart die within him at the news of his approach
ing death, when he finds that he must go, that he cannot
deliver himself, that death stands with his grim counte
nance looking him in the face, and is just about to seize
him, and carry him out of the world, and that he at the
Same time has nothing to depend on! How often are
there instances of dismal distress of unconverted persons
on a death-bed ! No one knows the fears, the exercise and
torment in their hearts, but they who feel them. They
are such that all the pleasures of sin, which they have had
in their whole lives, will not pay them for. As you may
sometimes see godly men go triumphing out of the world
full of joy, with the foretastes of heaven, so sometimes
wicked men, when dying, anticipate something of hell
before they arrive there. The flames of hell do, as it were,
come up and reach them in some measure, before they are
dead. God then withdraws, and ceases to protect them ;
the tormentor begins his work, while they are alive. Thus
it was with Saul and Judas ; and there have been many
other similar instances since; and none, who are in a
natural condition, have any security from it. The state
of a natural man is doleful on this account, though this is
but a prelude and foretaste of the everlasting misery which
follows. Thus I have, in some measure, shown in what a doleful
condition those are who are in a natural condition. Still
I have said but little. It is beyond what we can speak
or think. They who say most of the dreadfulness of a
natural condition, say but little. And they who are most
sensible, are sensible of but a small part of the misery of
a natural state. APPLICATION.
I. We may derive from this doctrine much useful and
practical instruction.
1 . Hence we may learn the stupidity and sottishness of
many natural persons. If we consider those things which
we have now heard concerning their dreadful condition,
and then see how the greater part of natural men behave
themselves, we may well be astonished that there should
be such stupidity in the heart of man. If we rightly con
sidered it, we should be ready to cry out with astonish
ment. Their sottishness appears in the following things.
1. That though they are in such a dreadful condition,
they can go about easy and quiet, and in little or no con
cern respecting it. W'hat might rationally be expected of
such persons ? If it were a new thing to us, and we had
heard there was a person in a particular town or country,
of such a name, who was in this awful condition ; who
had no interest in his Creator, who had the wrath of
Almighty God abiding on him, that wrath which is great
and terrible enough to make him miserable with devils in
hell to all eternity ; that he was a captive in the hands of
the devil, was made his slave, and was under his power and
dominion ; that his soul was a habitation of devils ; that he
was condemned to be cast into the lake that burneth with
fire and brimstone, to drink of the wine of the wrath of
God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of
his indignation, and to suffer in an inexpressible, incon
ceivable extremity in both body and soul for ever and ever,
without hope or end ; to be liable to sink in this misery
every day, and the longer he continued out of it, the worse
his condition, the more dreadful the wrath, and the hotter
the flames of hell ; I say, supposing we had just now for
the first time heard there was a person in this awful con
dition, how should we expect to see him behave himself?
If he was in the exercise of his reason, should we not
expect to see him trembling and quaking on account of
his misery, with all the manifestations of continual terror
and amazement, regardless of all things else, spending his
days and nights in tears, and groans, and lamentations,
crying for pity and help, crying with an exceedingly loud
and bitter cry, crying to every one to pity him, and pray
for him ? Yea, how many are there in this dreadful condi
tion, are easy and quiet, and appear to have nothing to

trouble them ! They go about the world without anxiety
or alarm, as if they had no more reason to be disquieted
than if they had already secured their salvation. Though
they are told how dreadful their condition is hundreds of
times, their tranquillity is wholly undisturbed. They can
sit and hear of its certainty and its nearness, of its dreadful
nature, and its inconceivable degree; and then can go
away with as quiet and easy hearts as they had before.
There is no moving them by telling them of such things.
They can sleep as quietly, and go about their business
with as perfect unconcern. They can eat and drink and
enjoy the pleasures of social life with no apparent load on
their minds ; and without being sensible of any thing in
their circumstances, which should hinder them from such
enjoyment. And not only so, but,
2. They can go about with a merry heart. There are
many of them, who not only seem to be quiet in their
minds, but they are very cheerful, as if all were well with
them, and every thing smiled upon them ; as if they were
in happy circumstances, and had every thing as they
desired ; and are even disposed to be merry and sportive
about their own condition and the dreadful realities of the
future world. For their part they choose to take their
ease and pleasure, and not disturb or molest themselves
with such dark and melancholy thoughts, like the persons
mentioned by Isaiah. " Come ye, say they, I will fetch
wine, and we will fill ourselves with strong drink ; and to
morrow shall be as this day, and much more abundant."
3. They are so senseless, that they do not think it worth
their while to make any considerable effort to escape from
this dreadful condition. They will not take half so much
pains for it, as for a little worldly gain ; and they do not
think it worth the while even to ask God to deliver them
from it. They think it too much labour to withdraw once
or twice each day to ask God to be merciful to them, that
they might not continue in their natural state. And they
foolishly neglect the precious opportunities, which they
enjoy to get into a better state. God gives them great ad
vantages for it, and they are called upon, and warned, and
exhorted to improve them. They are told what good
opportunities they have, and the danger of letting them
slip, but all is to no purpose. Thus persons will let slip
the time of youth, which is a precious season to escape
from their natural condition. So they will let slip a time
of the moving of God's Spirit in the place where they live.
They act as if they had a wish to continue in the same
state. They will put themselves so little out of the way
to escape from it ; they are so backward to deny themselves
a little, or to make a little effort; they seem to grudge it, and
think it needless. If they have a great advantage put into
their hands, it is to no purpose. They had as good be
without it, as with it ; for they have no heart to improve it.
Prov. xvii. 16. " Wherefore is there a price in the hand of
a fool to get wisdom, seeing he hath no heart to it ?"
4. Instead of using means to get into a better state, they
are wilfully doing those things which make it worse and
worse. Instead of striving for deliverance, they are striving
against it. They are provoking God more, and increasing
their guilt, and hardening their hearts, and setting them
selves farther and farther from conversion ; and this, too,
when they are told, that the things, which they practise,
have this tendency. They act as if they wished to be
sure never to be converted. Thus it is with innumerable
multitudes. So exceedingly senseless and stupid are many
natural persons.
2. Hence we need not wonder, that we are directed in
Scripture to strive and to be very earnest to be delivered
from our natural condition. This is the direction which
God gives us from time to time. Luke xiii. 24. " Strive
to enter in at the strait gate." Matt. xi. 12. " The king
dom of heaven suffereth violence." Eccl. ix. 10. " What
soever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might."
2 Peter i. 10. " Give diligence to make your calling and
election sure." Heb. vi. 18. " Fled for refuge to lay hold
upon the hope set before us." The direction which was
fiven to Lot, relating to his flight out of Sodom, was
esigned for the direction of all who are in a natural con
dition. Gen. xix. 17. "Escape for thy life; look not
behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain ; escape to
the mountain, lest thou be consumed. This doctrine

826

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

shows us the reason, why persons should be directed in
such a way as this to seek their salvation. That it is such
a dreadful condition is reason enough why persons should
thus vehemently strive, and be violent to get into a better
state, and why they should haste for their lives, and flee
from the wrath to come. If the case of natural men be
as we have heard, no wonder that they should have such
advice given them, and that God expects that the pains
which they take, and the endeavours they use for it, should
be in some measure answerable to its importance. No
wonder that the jailer, when made sensible of his con
dition, should conduct himself .as we have the account in
the text. No wonder that he should be in such haste as
not only to run in, but to spring or leap in, to the place
where Paul and Silas were, and fall down before them,
and ask in such an earnest manner, " What must I
do to be saved?" If he had not been indeed in a dread
ful state, he would have acted like one distracted. But
considering that he was in a natural condition, which is so
dreadful, it was not the least wonder.
3. Hence we may learn how dismal are the effects
which the fall of man has brought upon the world. It has
brought all mankind into this dreadful condition of which
we have heard. Tlie far greater part of those who live in
this world, are in this state, and the greater part of those
who die in the world, die in this state. What a miserable
world, therefore, is the world in which we live ! This
world lies under a curse. God has denounced woe against
it ; and what an immeasurable amount of woe is brought
upon it ! What woeful devastation has sin made in the
world !
II. What has been said of the dreadfulness of their
condition may well awaken and terrify the impenitent.
How many things are there in your circumstances, which
are awful and terrible to thinlc of. There is no one of
those things which have been mentioned, but that the
thought of it may well be frightful to you. It may well
be a dreadful thought that you have no goodness in you,
nor have ever done any thing which has the least goodness
in it ; that you never exercised one act of love, or true
thankfulness or obedience, to God in your life ; nor ever
did the least thing out of true respect to God. The con
sideration of the dreadful depravity and wickedness of
your heart, may well be frightful to you ; to think what a
sink of corruption it is, how full of all manner of wicked
ness, how full of enmity against God ; to think that there
are the same corruptions in your heart, as in the heart of
the devil, and that there are the seeds of the same enmity
against God, and that you are in the very image of the
devil. If you look into your own heart, and strictly ex
amine what it would entice you to do, if all restraints of
fear and self-interest were taken off, it might well affright
you. How awful may the thought well be to you, when
you consider that you are a creature, separated from your
Creator ! that there is an alienation between you and that
great Being, in whom you live and move, and have your
being ; that you are a poor desolate creature, that have no
God to protect you, and guide you, and provide for you in
the world ; and that you are secure from no manner of
mischief, into which human nature is capable of falling,
either in soul or body ! How terrifying should it be to
you, to think how good, how mighty and terrible that God
is, under whose wrath you lie down and rise up, and eat
and drink, and engage in the daily business of life ! How
frightful should it be to you, when you consider in what
relation you stand to the devil ; that you are his child, and
that he owns you ; that you are his servant, his possession,
and that your heart is his dwelling-place ; that you are
without Christ, and so without hope, and have no good
thing in another world, in which you have any inherit
ance ! And how amazing may it well be to you, when
you consider how great that future misery is to which you
are exposed and condemned, wherein God shows his
wrath, and makes his power known in the destruction of
the ungodly, in which they are vessels of wrath filled to
the brim ; and that you are in danger of being plunged in
a bottomless gulf or deluge of wrath, where mighty waves
and billows of wrath shall pass over you; and when you
consider the torment of your body in that great furnace of '
fire, where every part, every organ, every vein, and every

limb shall be filled full of fire, and yet full of quick sense,
and that this torment shall remain to an endless duration,
a duration which shall always be beginning, but never
ending ! And how well may it affright you, and strike a
terror upon you, when you consider, that if you die in
your present condition, it is as impossible that you should
escape this misery, as that God should cease to be just
and true ; and that the greater part of those who are in
your condition will suffer this misery, and that you have
no security that you shall be kept from it one day, or one
hour ! How terrifying may it well be to you, when you
consider how much more dreadful your case continually
grows ! How frightful may it be to you every night, when
you sit down, and consider how much greater your guilt
is, and how much deeper your condemnation is, than it
was in the morning ! How awful and doleful may it be
to you to consider, that if you live and die in your present
state, every thing is cursed to you; even your greatest
mercies and best enjoyments, your food, your raiment,
your nearest friends, and your earthly possessions : and
not only so, but the light of the gospel, and the means of
grace, and life itself will be cursed to you ! All will be
but an occasion of your greater misery. Such persons
shall wish they had been bom and brought up among the
heathen. They shall wish that Christ had never come
into the world ; they shall wish they had never been born.
How awful may it be to you when you think that death
will most certainly come upon you, and you know not how
soon ; and what dismal circumstances you would be in,
if you were in your present condition on a death-bed !
How many things are there in your case which are of a
terrifying, awful nature ! How can you live in such cir
cumstances, without living in continual terror? Here
consider further the following things :
1. There is nothing which you see, but what may justly
minister torment to you, while you remain in a natural
condition. If you lift up your eyes, and behold the sun,
moon, and stars, and cast your eyes abroad on the face of
the earth, and see the mountains, and fields, and trees, it
may justly put you in mind of the dolefulness of your
condition ; that the great God, who made all these things,
who stretched forth the heavens as a curtain, who ordained
the sun, moon, and stars, and laid the foundations of the
earth, and causes the grass and trees to grow ; is a God in
whom you have no interest, but who is continually angry
with you, and that his wrath abides on you. So when
you look on your own body, and consider how it is formed
and contrived, it may be a frightful thing to you to con
sider, that he who made you is not at peace with you, and
that you are the object of his displeasure. If you have
pleasures and enjoyments, and are in flourishing circum
stances, if you see the faces of your near friends and dear
relations, and look upon your children and other dear
friends, and behold your costly possessions, these things
may justly minister torment to you, while you are in a
natural state. For consider, that you do not know but
that all these things are given you in wrath. When you
sit down to eat and drink, you "may do it in torment, be
cause you know not but this may be in wrath. When
you lie down upon your beds, it may justly be in torment,
for you do not know but you shall awake in hell. And
when you awake in the morning, it may justly be with
torment in your heart, to think you are still in that doleful
condition. When you go forth to your daily labour, you
have reason to go with a terrified heart ; for you know
not but you are followed with God's curse in all that to
which you put your hands. Whatever dispensations of
Providence you may have, all may justly put you in
mind of the dolefulness of your condition. ' If you meet
with afflictions, these may remind you that you" have no
God to pity you, and that a God who is angry with you
every day, sends these afflictions upon you. If you meet
with prosperity, you may justly receive it with a sorrowful
sense of the dolefulness of your state ; for you know not
but it is to fit you for the slaughter. If you hear of the
death of others, it may justly terrify you, and put you in
mind of your own mortality, and of your danger of dying
as you now are. If you hear of others' conversion, it may
justly renew in you a sense of the dolefulness of your own
state, that you still remain unconverted. If you see the

SERMON I.

827

Bible, an awful thought may justly go with the sight, that
you have never yet received any good by that book, and
that all the curses written in it, stand against you. Every
time you enter the house of God, it may justly renew aw
ful thoughts of your circumstances, that you have entered
there so often, and obtained no good ; entered so often,
and gone away worse than you came. And what danger
there is, that you shall be one of those spoken of in Eccle-
siastes viii. 10. " I saw the wicked buried, who had come
and gone from the place of the holy, and they were for
gotten in the city where they had so done." And where
soever you turn yourself, whatever you meet with, and
whatever you behold, or hear, may justly renew a sense of
the dolefulness of your state. The thought of your condi
tion may justly cast a darkness upon every thing.
2. Consider that the time will soon come, when you
will be sensible that the dolefulness of your condition is
as great as I have represented it ; that I have not enlarged
or magnified the matter, but that the case is as I have de
clared it. You will then see that it is so. Whether you are
sensible of it now or not, yet in a little time you will surely
be sensible, and will need no argument to convince you of
it. Yea, you will be sensible that it is more doleful than
I have represented. After all that has been told you now,
and at other times, the time will come when you will say,
that the one half was not told you.
3. Your condition is thus doleful, notwithstanding every
thing with which you may flatter yourself. You may be
ready to flatter yourself, that though the condition of some
natural persons is thus doleful, yet yours is not ; that you
are in better circumstances than other natural men com
monly are. Or particularly, you may flatter yourself that
you are not so bad as others ; you do not find such dread
ful corruptions in your heart, as you hear are in others.
Herein you deceive yourself. It is because you are igno
rant of your own heart. What has been said of the de
praved state of natural men, of their blindness, their hard
ness, their deadness, all belongs to you. You may pos
sibly flatter yourself that your condition is not so doleful,
because you have always walked orderly, you have been
moral and religious. Here also you deceive yourself.
For notwithstanding your moral and religious behaviour,
and all your sobriety, you never did the least thing from a
gracious respect to God. You have a heart in the like
ness of the heart of the devil. You are without God in
the world. God is angry with you every day ; his wrath
is not at all appeased. You may flatter yourselves that
you are the children of godly parents, that you have many
godly friends, who may put up many prayers for you, and
that your case is not so doleful on that account, and that
your danger is not extremely great. But in this you
miserably deceive yourself. You are children of the
devil notwithstanding all this. If you die in your present
condition, it is impossible that you shall escape eternal
misery. And there is great danger, that you will die in
it. You have no security that you shall not be in hell
before to-morrow morning. Do not flatter yourself from
such things as these, that you are not in a doleful condi
tion. Some of those who flatter themselves most, and
think their condition the least doleful, are indeed in the
most doleful condition. It is more dreadful than their
neighbours; more so than that of many, whom they
esteem ten times worse than themselves. And this is one
thing which adds to the dolefulness of their condition,
that they so flatter themselves, and think their state so
good. So it was of old with the scribes and Pharisees.
Matt. xxi. 31. " Verily I say unto you, the publicans and
harlots go into the kingdom of God before you."
III. This subject may well excite joy and thankfulness
in the hearts of the truly penitent, that God has found out
a way to deliver them from such a condition ; that God
has been pleased to send his Son into the world to die
for them ; that he has given them the gospel and the means
of grace; and that he has delivered them from this dreadful
condition. You were in the same circumstances. 1 Cor. vi.
11. "Such were some of you; but ye are washed, but ye are
sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord
Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." It is mere grace
which has made the difference. There is no cause of boast
ing. God might have taken others, and left you. You

deserved no more than they. You had no more righteous
ness of your own. Probably you have done worse than
many who have eternally perished. Take heed, that you
entertain no boasting thought, and that your joy in this be
an humble joy ; accompanied with continual praise to God,
who has done such great things for you, and from all eter
nity set his love upon you.
IV. This subject should lead those, who are in a na
tural condition, earnestly to seek for deliverance. Will you
rest in such a condition, when there is a way of salvation
provided, and an opportunity for an escape ? Will you of
choice continue still in this state ? Though your case is
very dangerous, yet there is a possibility of rescue, if you
have but a heart to improve your opportunity. But be
sides what has been said, I would desire you further to
consider, how happy will be your state, should you obtain
deliverance. A converted state is not less happy than a
natural condition is miserable and dreadful. You will be
brought out of darkness into marvellous light. It will be
like the dawning of the morning after a long night of
darkness. It will be a joyful morning to you. The day-
star will arise in your heart. Then will be given you the
morning star. You will then have a discovery of the
glory of God, and the beauty and excellency of Jesus
Christ, made to your soul ; and then will be opened to
your view the glorious fountain of divine grace. You will
then look back and see how you have dwelt in darkness
throughout your lives, and in the region and shadow of
death. Matt. iv. 16. " The people which sat in darkness
saw great light, and to them which sat in the region and
shadow of death light is sprung up." You will then be
brought out of a dreadful bondage into glorious liberty.
You will come forth as from a dark dungeon, to see the
glorious light of the Sun of righteousness. Your eyes
will then be opened, and you will be brought out of
the prison house. Isa. lxi. 1. "The Spirit of the Lord
God is upon me ; because the Lord hath anointed me to
preach good tidings unto the meek, he hath sent me to
bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the cap
tive, and the opening of the prison to them that are
bound." Then you who were dead will be made alive ;
and you that have been lost will be found. What you
will then obtain will richly repay you for all the labour
which you have undergone. If you have spent ever so
many years in wrestling with corruption and temptation, in
striving to enter in at the strait gate, you will not repent it.
But more particularly consider,
1. How glorious will be the alteration made in your
nature. Old things will be done away, and all things will
become new. Sin will be mortified in you, and the glo
rious image of God conferred upon you. You will have
holy and spiritual principles imparted to you, a spirit of
divine love and heavenly-mindedness, a relish for spiritual
enjoyments, a delight in the Lord Jesus Christ, a truly
meek, humble, charitable, and benevolent spirit. You will
be changed, from being more filthy and hateful than a
reptile, into the likeness of the glorious Son of God. You
will be taken out of the mire of brutal lusts and spiritual
abominations, will be washed from all your filthiness, and
will be adorned with the most glorious ornaments ; those
ornaments of mind, which in the sight of God are of great
price, ornaments which will render you a thousand times
more beautiful and lovely than the robes of princes. You
will obtain those graces of the Spirit of God which are the
ornaments of angels.
2. Consider the safety of the condition in which you
will then be. The terrible wrath of the great God, which
abides on wicked men, will then be removed from you.
Christ will be to you as a hiding-place from the storm, and
as a shadow from the heat of God's wrath. You will then
be safe from hell, and will be for ever delivered from that
dreadful misery which is endured by the damned, and
to which you are now condemned. Rev. xx. 6. " On
such the second death hath no power." You will be safe
from the power of Satan. Christ will be your protector,
so that you shall be out of his reach, that he will not be
able todestroy you. You shall dwell on high. Your place of
defence shall be the munition of rocks, where you may
laugh at the power of the enemy. And though you are in
a world full of enemies and sinners, yet God will be your

828

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

Rock, and the most high God your Redeemer. God will
carry you as on eagles wings through the world, aloft out
of the reach of your enemies. . They may see you, and
wish your ruin, and gnash their teeth, but shall not be able
to accomplish it. Satan will desire to have you, but Christ
will have prayed for you, and that will be your security.
You will be safe from death ; that will not be able to hurt
you. Natural men are in continual danger from death.
They know not when nor how death may come. But if it
comes while they are in that condition, it sinks them into
hell. But you need not be afraid to meet death, either by
day or night. Whenever it comes, and in whatever form,
you are safe. While others walk in slippery places, your
feet will be established on a rock. In a time of sickness
and mortality, while others tremble, you need not fear. If
you are sick, you need not dread the issue. For though
your flesh and your heart should fail you, yet God will be
the strength of your heart, your present help, and your por
tion for ever. Though the earth should -be removed, you
will be safe. Psal. xlvi. 1, 2, 3. " God is our refuge and
strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not
we fear though the earth be removed, and though the moun
tains be carried into the midst of the sea ; though the waters
thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake
with the swelling thereof." If you are once in Christ Jesus,
none shall ever pluck you out of his hands. John x. 28.
" They shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out
of my hand." You will be freed from condemnation ; for
who is he that shall condemn you ? it is Christ that died,
yea rather, that is risen again.- Who shall separate you
from the love of Christ ? " Neither life, nor death, nor
angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other
creature." What a glorious foundation will there be for
your peace and quietness ! Isa. xxxii. 17. " And the work
of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of righteous
ness, quietness and assurance for ever." Let this consi
deration, therefore, prompt you earnestly to seek, that you
may obtain that happy condition. Can you consider how
happy the change would be to you, how desirable such
safety is, and not be willing earnestly to seek and do every
thing which lies in your power, that you may obtain it?
3. Consider how exceedingly it will be for the comfort
and pleasure of your life, if you are converted. You are
not only under the greatest necessity to become con
verted, because a natural condition is so dreadful a condi
tion, but you will gain by it every way. You will not only
gain eternal life by it, but you will gain unspeakably by it
while in this world. Your pains will be richly rewarded
while here, though that be but little to your future reward.
You cannot take a more direct course to make your life
pleasant. You will obtain by it the most excellent delight
and pleasure, in comparison with which the pleasures which
are to be had in worldly things are low and vile. Hereby
you may obtain the most substantial, soul-satisfying, soul-
refreshing pleasures. You may then live a life of divine
love and communion with that glorious Being, who is the
object of your love. Then you will be blest with the best
company, and with heavenly society. Far better is a little
with the fear of the Lord, than great treasures with that
trouble which wicked men have with their enjoyments.
Then you may enjoy what God in his providence bestows
upon you with peace of conscience ; and may rejoice in it,
as the fruit of the love of God. Then you may have the
comfort of considering that you have God's blessing on
what you possess. Your enjoyments will then be sweet
to you, for you will enjoy God "in the fruits of his bounty.
Your life will be abundantly more pleasant in all the cir
cumstances and concerns of it. It will make God's house
a more delightful resort ; your own house a more pleasant
residence, for then the blessing of heaven will rest upon it;
and your closet a sweeter retirement. It will make your
labour sweeter to you, and it will sweeten your rest. You
may then say with the psalmist, Psal. iv. 8. " I will both
lay me down and sleep, for thou, Lord, only makest me
dwell in safety." It will tend to make your life pleasant,
and to make your death-bed comfortable to you. When
all other comforts fail, this will stand you instead. It will
remain as a living spring, which will never fail. John iv.
14. " The water that I shall give him, shall be in him a

well of water springing up into everlasting life." This will
make time comfortable, and will make the thoughts of
eternity comfortable to you, when you shall have those
pleasures which are at God's right hand for ever, in more
immediate prospect ; and shall have that faithful promise
of God, that hereafter you shall see God, and shall dwell
in his presence, and shall from the hands of Christ receive
a crown of life.
Direction 1 . In general be directed to act as if you were
in a dreadful condition ; as one who looks upon his case
to be dreadful, not merely as one looks upon his case un
desirable and worse than that of another ; but as one who
is sensible that his state is inexpressibly dismal and ter
rible. Consider how men act when they apprehend their
circumstances to be very dreadful, though only in temporal
respects. As for instance : if they are in danger of being
consumed by fire, or only having their substance consumed.
Or if in danger of being seized by an enemy, or otherwise in
danger of some dreadful evil. How do the thoughts of
danger awake their powers ! What earnestness appears in
them, in what haste are they ! Be directed to seek for de
liverance from a natural condition, in like manner, if you
would be delivered. The jailer acted as one who was
sensible that his condition was dreadful. So be you
directed to act, if you would have the like success. Parti
cularly, 1 . Be in haste. The jailer, when he was made sensible
of his dreadful condition, sprang into the presence of Paul
and Silas, and cried out, what must I do to be saved ? So
you cannot be in too much haste. When ministers direct
those who are seeking salvation to wait until God's time
comes, if they understand the Scriptures, they cannot mean,
that they should not be in haste to obtain a better condi
tion, or that they should be at rest, or continue in such a
condition one hour, or one moment. They can only mean
these two things : that you should wait or persevere in op
position to giving up in discouragement : and that they
should wait in opposition to quarrelling with God for not
delivering them, and not in opposition to being uneasy in
a natural condition. For persons ought to be uneasy, and
it argues awful stupidity to be otherwise ; but in opposition
to a quarrelling spirit because God does not show mercy
sooner. We should persevere in our efforts to obtain sal
vation, as being sensible that God is not obliged to bestow
it in our time, or at all ; that he may, if he will, refuse to
show mercy ; and if he does show mercy, that he may do
it in his own time. Remember that the command of
Christ to you is, " Repent and believe the Gospel." You
cannot lawfully continue in your present state one day or
hour. Those who defer and put off repentance till another
time are not in a likely way to obtain deliverance. The
way is, to improve the present time ; to do now, what
must be done ever. We should make securing our salva
tion our present and immediate business. Therefore in
quire, whether you do not put it off. If you do not put
off the whole of the work, yet do you not put off part of
it ? Do you think you now strive as much for salvation, as
it will ever be needful that you should ? If not, delay no
longer. Let it not be said of you to-morrow, that there is
any thing delayed to-day, which you yourself thought
needful to be done, or in your power to do, in order to
your salvation. If you are sensible that you are in this
dreadful condition, you certainly will make haste; you
will need no other motive to it.
2. Let nothing, which you do in seeking salvation, be
done with slackness. The direction is, " Whatsoever thy
hand frndefh to do, do it with thy might." Therefore, let
nothing be done with a slack hand. Do every thing which
you do in this great work earnestly. There are many
things which you have to do ; many duties to be perform
ed, many means to be employed. Let all be done with
your strength. Be earnest in prayer, earnest in hearing the
word preached, diligent and faithful in watching over your
own heart, diligent in searching your heart, diligent in re
flecting on your past life, diligent and laborious in medita
tion, laborious and earnest in striving against temptation.
And do not perform merely the duties of religion towards
God earnestly, but also its duties towards your neighbour.
Be earnest that you may do every duty required of you
towards all men. Be earnest and diligent to do justly and

SERMON I.

829

honestly, and to render every man his due. Be earnest to
watch against an envious, malicious, and revengeful spirit.
Be earnest to do all the duties of charity : labour with
your might, that you may behave charitably towards men,
and neglect no duty of charity required of you. Be earnest
in performing every relative duty : in rendering suitable
honour to your parents ; in manifesting kindness and con
fidence to your husband or your wife ; in instructing and
governing your children, bringing them up in religion, and
seeking their salvation in every way pointed out in the
Scriptures. Do this earnestly, and with all your strength.
You should not merely do some things earnestly, but all.
3. Take heed lest this your earnestness be not transient ;
but that you continue in it to the end. It is the misery of
many persons, that they seem to be very warmly engaged
for a little time, but it does not last. It is a very rare thing,
that any who are thoroughly and perseveringly in earnest
for salvation, fail of it, unless they have put off the work
until they are near death before they began. How unstable
is the heart of man, and how many are there who go to
hell through backsliding ! It is often the case when persons
begin with much seeming earnestness, that they do it upon
a secret dependence that they shall not need to make these
efforts very long. They flatter themselves, that in a little
time they shall obtain what they seek, and then they may
take their ease ; therefore, when they have gone on a while,
and fail of that expectation, they soon slacken their exer
tions. They never consented to seek in this diligent
persevering manner, always ; but they appointed a time of
their own, and sought it on terms of their own fixing. But
a man is then in a hopeful way to be converted, when he
has so great a sense of his misery, and his necessity of
conversion, that he is disposed to do his utmost, to be
violent for the kingdom of heaven, and to devote his life
to it.
If you are seeking salvation, inquire how it is with you
as to this matter. Do you feel a disposition in yourself to
be at the pains and difficulty of a most laborious seeking
God's grace in the denial of every lust, and in a painful
performance of every duty as long as you live ? Or does
this seem to you to be too much ; more than you can find
a heart to comply with ? You may be ready to say, that
you could be willing to do all this, if you knew you should
obtain at last. But that is not sufficient. You should be
willing to run the venture of that, and seek upon what
encouragement is given you, and to wait God's sovereign
will and pleasure in that way. And if you cannot become
willing for this, be sensible there is a defect in your manner
of seeking, which it behoves you to mend. And do not
think that you seek it in the right way until you»come to it.
If you have a right sense of the dolefulness of your con
dition, it will bring you to it. Consider the great encou
ragement there is for this way of seeking. Prov. viii. 34.
" Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at
mygates, waiting at the posts of my doors." Hosea vi. 3.
" Then shall we know, if we follow on to know the Lord."
4. Seek that you may be brought to lie at God's feet in
a sense of your own exceeding sinfulness. Seek earnestly
that you may have such a sight yourself; what an exceed
ingly sinful creature you are, what a. wicked heart you
have, and howdreadmllyyou have provoked God to anger ;
that you may see that God would be most just if he should
never have any mercy upon you. Labour, that all quarrel
ling about God's dispensations towards sinners may be
wholly subdued; that your heart may be abased and
brought down to the dust before God ; "that you may see

yourself in the hands of God ; and that you can challenge
nothing of God, but that God and his throne are blameless
in the eternal damnation of sinners, and would be in your
damnation. Seek that you may be brought off from all
high opinion of your own worth, all trust in your own
righteousness, and to see that all you do in religion is so
polluted and defiled, that it is utterly unworthy of God's
acceptance ; and that you commit sin enough in your best
duties to condemn you for ever. Seek that you may come
to see, that God is sovereign, that he is the potter and you
the clay, and that his grace is his own, and that he may
bestow it on whom he will, and that he might justly refuse
to show you mercy. Seek that you may be sensible, that
God is sovereign as to the objects of his grace, and also
as to the time and manner of bestowing it, and seek to
God and wait upon him as a sovereign God. Seek that
you may be sensible that God's anger is infinitely dreadful,
yet, at the same time, be sensible that it is just. Labour
that when you have a sense of the awfulness of the wrath
of God in your mind, you may fall down before an angry
God, and lie in the dust. Seek that you may see, that you
are utterly undone, and that you cannot help yourself;
and yet, that you do not deserve that God should help you,
and that he would be perfectly just if he should refuse
ever to help you. If you have come to this, then you will
be prepared for comfort. When persons are thus humble,
it is God's manner soon to comfort them. When you are
thus brought low, doubtless God will soon lift you up.
God will not bestow such a great and infinite mercy as
eternal life upon persons, who will not acknowledge his
sovereignty in that matter. When once there has been
that conviction upon the heart which casts down imagina
tions, and every high thing that exalts itself against God,
then God is wont speedily to reveal his grace and love, and
to pour the oil of comfort into the soul.
5. Abound in earnest prayer to God, that he would open
your eyes, that you may behold the glorious and rich pro
vision made for sinners in Jesus Christ. The souls of
natural men are so blinded that they see no beauty or ex
cellency in Christ. They do not see his sufficiency. They
see no beauty in the work of salvation by him ; and as
long as they remain thus blind, it is impossible that they
should close with Christ. The heart will never be drawn
to an unknown Saviour. It is impossible that a man
should love that, and freely choose that, and rejoice in that,
in which he sees no excellency. But if your eyes were
opened to see the excellency of Christ, the work would be
done. You would immediately believe on him; and you
would find your heart going after him. It would be im
possible to keep it back. But take heed, that you do not
entertain a wrong notion of what it is, spiritually to see
Christ. If you do, you may seek that "which God never
bestows. Do not think that spiritually to see Christ, is to
have a vision of him as the prophets had, to see hiin in
some bodily shape, to see the features of his countenance.
Do not pray or seek for any such thing as this. But what
you are to seek is, that you may have a sight of the glori
ous excellency of Christ, and of the way of salvation
through him, in your heart. This is a spiritual sight of
Christ. This is that for which you must cry to God day
and night. God is the fountain of spiritual light. He
opens the eyes of the blind. He commands the light to
shine out of darkness. It is easy with God to enlighten
the soul, and fill it with these glorious discoveries, though
it is beyond the power of men and angels.

830

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

SERMON II.

Hosea v. 15.
I will go and return to my place, till they acknowledge
their offence, and seek my face : in their affliction they
will seek me early.
In the preceding part of the chapter is threatened the
destruction of Ephraim. Ephraim, in the prophets, gene
rally means the ten tribes, or the kingdom of Israel, as
distinguished from the kingdom of Judah. When we
read of Ephraim and Judah in the prophets, thereby is
meant the whole people of Israel of the twelve tiibes, as
in verse 12. of this chapter, " Therefore will I be unto
Ephraim as a moth, and to the house of Judah as rotten
ness." By Judah is meant the two tribes of Judah and
Benjamin, which were under the king of Judah ; and by
Ephraim is meant the ten tribes under the king of Israel.
Ephraim is put for the whole kingdom of Israel, because
Samaria, the seat of the kingdom, the royal city, was in
that tribe. In the verse immediately preceding the text it
is declared in what a terrible manner God was about to
deal with Ephraim. " For I will be unto Ephraim as a
lion, and as a young lion to the house of Judah ; I, even
I, will tear and go away, and none shall rescue him." In
the text God declares how he would deal with them after
he had torn as a lion, &c. And here,
1. God declares how he would withdraw from them.
" I will go and return to my place ;'' when I have torn
as a lion. I will go away ; I will leave them in that con
dition. I will depart from them, and they shall see no
more of me.
2. What God will wait for in them before he returns to
them to show them mercy. There are three things here
signified. 1 . That they should be sensible of their guilt. " Till
they acknowledge their offence." It is in the original,
" till they become guilty." That is, till they become guilty
in their own eyes, till they are sensible of their guilt ; in
the same sense as the same expression is used in Rom. iii.
19." That every mouth may be stopped, and all the world
may become guilty before God :" that is, become guilty
in their own eyes.
2. That they would be sensible of their misery, implied
in the expression, " in their affliction they shall seek me."
Their calamity was brought upon them, before God had
torn them, and left them. But in their pride and perverse
ness, they were not well sensible of their own miserable
condition, as this prophet observes in chapter vii. 9.
3. That they should be sensible of their need of God's
help, which is implied in their seeking God's face, and
seeking him early ; that is, with great care and earnest
ness. Before, they would not seek God ; they were not
sensible of their helplessness, as we leam in the verse but
one preceding the text. " When Ephraim saw his sick
ness, and Judah his wound, then went Ephraim to the
Assyrian, and sent to king Jacob." But as we are there
told, he could not heal him, nor cure his wound. And
notwithstanding all the help he could afford, God wounded
him, tore him as a young lion ; and, as he declares, would
leave him, and he should cease going to any other, and
should be sensible that no other could heal, and accord
ingly come to him for healing.
Doctrine. That it is God's manner to make men sensi
ble of their misery and unworthiness, before he appears in
his mercy and love to them.
I. That it is ordinarily thus with respect to the bestow
ment of great and signal mercies.
II. That it is particularly so with respect to revealing
his love and mercy to their souls.
I. This is God's ordinary way before great and signal
expressions of his mercy and favour. He very commonly
so orders it in his providence, and so influences men by
his Spirit, that they are brought to see their miserable con

dition as they are in themselves, and to despair of help
from themselves, or from an arm of flesh, before he appears
for them, and also makes them sensible of their sin, and
their unworthiness of God's help. This appears from the
account which the Scriptures give us of God's dealings
with his people. Joseph, before his great advancement in
Egypt, must lie in the dungeon to humble him, and pre
pare him for such honour and prosperity. The children of
Jacob, before Joseph reveals himself to them, and they
receive that joy, and honour, and prosperity, which were
consequent thereupon, pass through a train of difficulties
and anxieties, till at last they are reduced to distress, and
are brought to reflect upon their guilt, and to say, that
they were verily guilty concerning their brother. God
humbled them in his providence, and then an end was
put to all their difficulties, and their sorrow was turned
into joy upon Joseph's revealing himself to them. Jacob,
before he hears the joyful news of Joseph's being yet alive,
must be brought into great distress at the parting with
Benjamin, and supposed loss of Simeon. He was reduced
to great straits in his mind. He says in Genesis xiii. 36.
" All these things are against me." But soon after this
he had these gladsome tidings brought to him, " Joseph
is yet alive, and he is governor over all the land of Egypt."
And to confirm it, he sees the waggons and the noble
presents, which Joseph sent to him : so that he was now
brought to say, "It is enough; Joseph my son is yet
alive. I will go and see him before I die." And so with
the children of Israel in Egypt. Their bondage must wax
more and more extreme. Their bondage had been very
extreme. But yet Pharaoh gives commandment that more
work should be laid upon them, and the task-masters tell
them they must get their straw where they can find it ;
and nothing of their work should be diminished. And
quickly upon this was their deliverance. So when the
children of Israel were brought to the Red sea, the Egyp
tians pursued them, and were just at their heels, and they
were reduced to the utmost distress, they see that they
must assuredly perish, unless God work a miracle for
them ; for they were shut up on all sides : the Red sea
was before them, and the army of the Egyptians encom
passing them round behind. And they cried unto the
Lord. And then God wonderfully appeared for their help,
and made them pass through the Red sea, and put songs
of deliverance into their mouths.
So before God brought the children of Israel into
Canaan, he led them about in a great and terrible wilder
ness through a train of difficulties and temptations for
forty years, that he might teach them in their dependence
on him, and the sinfulness of their own hearts. Deut.
xxxii. 10. " He found him in a desert land, and in the
waste howling wilderness ; he led him about, he instruct
ed him, he kept him as the apple of his eye." God
brought them into . those trials and difficulties in the wil
derness to humble them, and let them see what was in
their hearts, that they might be convinced of their own
perverseness by the many discoveries of it under those
temptations, and so that they might be sensible that it was
not for their righteousness that God made them his people,
and gave them Canaan, seeing it was so evident that they
were a stiff-necked people. Deut. viii. 2, 3. " And thou
shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led
thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee,
and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whe
ther thou wouldest keep his commandments, or no. And
he humbled thee and suffered thee to hunger, and fed
thee with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy
fathers know ; that he might make thee know that man
doth not live by bread only, but by every word that pro
ceeded! out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live."
And 15, 16, 17. " Who led thee through that great and
terrible wilderness, wherein were fiery serpents, and scor
pions, and drought, where there was no water ; who

SERMON II.

831

brought thee forth water out of the rock of flint ; who fed
thee in the wilderness with manna, which thy fathers knew
not, that he might humble thee, and that he might prove
thee, to do thee good at the latter end ; and thou say in
thine heart, My power and the might of my hand hath
gotten me this wealth." And so we have examples of this
from time to time in the history of the Judges. When
Israel revolted, God gave them into the hands of their
enemies. He let them continue in their hands, till they
were reduced to great distress, and saw that they were in
a helpless condition, and were brought to reflect on them
selves, and to cry unto the Lord. And then God raised
them up a deliverer. And when they cried unto God, he
would not deliver them till he had humbled them, and
brought them to own their unworthiness, and to own that
they were in God's hands. Judges x. beginning with the
10th verse. " And the children of Israel cried unto the
Lord, saying, We have sinned against thee, both because
we have forsaken our God, and also served Baalim. And
the Lord said unto the children of Israel, Did not I deliver
you from the Egyptians, and from the Amorites, from the
children of Ammon, and from the Philistines ? The Zi-
donians also, and the Amalekites, and the Maonites, did
oppress you; and ye cried to me, and I delivered you out
of their hand. Yet ye have forsaken me, and served other
gods ; wherefore I will deliver you no more. Go and
cry unto the gods which ye have chosen; let them deliver
you in the time of your tribulation. And the children of
Israel said unto the Lord, We have sinned ; do thou unto
us whatsoever seemeth good unto thee ; deliver us only,
we pray thee, this day. And they put away the strange
gods from among them, and served the Lord ; and his
soul was grieved for the misery of Israel." And this is
the method in which God declared from the beginning he
would proceed with his people. Lev. xxvi. 40, &c. " If they
shall confess their iniquity, and the iniquity of their fathers,.
with their trespass which they trespassed against me, and
that also they have walked contrary unto me ; and that I
also have walked contrary unto them, and have brought
them into the land of their enemies ; if then their uncir
cumcised hearts be humbled, and they then accept of the
punishment of their iniquity ; then will I remember my
covenant with Jacob, and also my covenant with Isaac,
and also my covenant with Abraham will I remember ;
and I will remember the land. The land also shall be
left of them, and shall enjoy her sabbaths, while she lieth
desolate without them ; and they shall accept of the pu
nishment of their iniquity ; because, even because they
despised my judgments, and because their soul abhorred
my statutes. And yet for all that, when they be in the
land of their enemies, I will not cast them away, neither
will I abhor them, to destroy them utterlv, and to break
my covenant with them ; for I am the Lord their God.
But I will for their sakes remember the covenant of their
ancestors, whom I brought forth out of the land of Egypt
in the sight of the heathen, that I might be their God."
It is God's manner, when he will bestow signal blessings
in answer to prayer, to make men seek them, and pray
for them with a sense of their sin and misery. As 1 Kings
viii. 38, 39. " What prayer and supplication soever be
made by any man, or by all thy people Israel, which shall
know every man the plague of his own heart, and spread
forth his hands toward this house ; then hear thou in
heaven, thy dwelling-place, and forgive, and do, and give
to every man according to his ways, whose heart thou
knowest ; for thou, even thou only, knowest the hearts of
all the children of men." By knowing the plague of their
own hearts is meant both their sin and misery. Being
sensible of their misery is included, as is evident from the
manner of expressing the same petition of Solomon's
prayer, as it is related in 2 Chron. vi. 29. " Then what
prayer or supplication soever shall be made of any man,
or of all thy people Israel, when every man shall know his
own sore and his own grief." By which is probably meant
his misery and his sin, which is the foundation of it.
Paul gives us an account how God brought him to have
despair in himself before a great deliverance, which he ex
perienced. 2 Cor. i. 9, 10. " But we had the sentence of
death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves,
but in God, which raiseth the dead ; who delivered us

from so great a death." How did Christ humble the
woman of Canaan, or bring her to the exercise and ex
pression of a sense of her own unworthiness before he
answered her, and healed her daughter ! When she con
tinued to cry, after he answered her not a word, and seem
ed to take no notice of her, and his disciples desired him
to send her away, and when she continued crying after
him, he gave a very humbling answer, saying, It is not
meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs.
And when she took it well, as owning that being called a
dog was not too bad, and owning that she was therefore
unworthy of children's bread, she only sought the crumbs,
then Christ answered her request. And the experience of
God's people in all ages corresponds with those examples.
It is God's usual method before remarkable discoveries of
his mercy and love to them, especially by spiritual mercies,
in a special manner to humble them, and make them
sensible of their misery and helplessness in themselves,
and of their vileness and unworthiness, either by some
remarkably humbling dispensation of his providence or
influence of his Spirit. We are come now,
II. To show particularly that it is God's manner to make
men sensible of their misery and unworthiness before he
reveals his saving love and mercy to their souls. The
mercy of God, which he shows to a sinner when he brings
him home to the Lord Jesus Christ, is the greatest and
most wonderful exhibition of mercy and love, of which
men are ever the subjects. There are other things, in which
God greatly expresses his mercy and goodness to men,
many temporal favours. The mercies already mentioned,
which God bestowed upon his people of old : his ad
vancing Joseph in Egypt, his deliverance of the children
of Israel out of Egypt, his leading them through the Red
sea on dry land, his bringing them into Canaan, and
driving out the heathen from before them, his delivering
them from time to time from the hands of their enemies,
were great mercies ; but they were not equal to this of
his people from under the guilt and dominion of sin.
Several of them were typical of this ; and as God would
thus prepare men for the bestowment of those less mercies
by making them sensible of their guilt and misery, so
especially will he so do, before he makes known to them
this great love of his in Jesus Christ. When God de
signs to show mercy to sinners, it is his manner thus to
begin with them.
He first brings them to reflect upon themselves, and
consider and be sensible what they are, and what condition
they are in. What has already been said proves this.
There is a harmony between God's dispensations. And
as we see that this is God's manner of dealing with men
when he gives them other great and remarkable mercies
and manifestations of his favour, it is a confirmation that
it is his method of proceeding with the souls of men,
when about to reveal his mercy and love to them in Jesus
Christ. 1. God makes men consider and be sensible of what
sin they are guilty. Before, it may be, they were very re
gardless of this. They went on sinning, and never reflected
upon what they did ; never considered or regarded what
or how many sins they committed. They saw no cause
why they should trouble their minds about it. But when
God convinces them, he brings them to reflect upon them
selves ; he sets their sins in order before their eyes. He
brings their old sins to their minds, so that they are fresh
in their memory — things which they had almost forgotten.
And many things, which they used to regard as light
offences, which were not wont to be a burden to their con
sciences, nor to appear worthy to be taken notice of, they
are now made to reflect upon. Thus they discover of
what a multitude of transgressions they have been guilty,
which they have heaped up till they are grown up to
heaven. There are some sins especially, of which they
have been guilty, which are ever before them, so that they
cannot get them out of their minds. Sometimes when
men are under conviction, their sins follow them, and
haunt them like a spectre. God makes them sensible of
the sin of their hearts, how corrupt and depraved their
hearts are. And there are two ways in which he does
this. One is by setting before them the sins of their
lives. They are so set in order before them, they appear

832

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

so many and so aggravated, that they are convinced what
a fountain of corruption there is in their hearts. Their
sinful natures appear by their sinful lives. There is sin
enough, which every man has committed, to convince him,
that he is sold under sin, that his heart is full of nothing
but corruption, if God by his Spirit leads him rightly to
consider it.
Another way which God sometimes makes use of, is,
to leave men to such internal workings of corruption under
the temptations which they have in their terrors and fears
of hell, as shows them what a corrupt and wicked heart
they have. God sometimes brings this good out of this
evil, to make men see the corruption of their nature by
the workings of it under temptations, which they have
in their terrors about damnation. God leads them through
?he wilderness to prove them, and let them know what is
in their hearts, as he did the children of Israel, as we have
ilready observed. By means of the trials which the
children of Israel had in the wilderness, they might be
made sensible what a murmuring, perverse, rebellious,
unfaithful, and idolatrous people they were. So God
sometimes makes sinners sensible whatwicked hearts they
have, by their experience of the exercises of corruption,
while they are under convictions. Not that this will in the
least excuse men for allowing such workings of corrup
tion in their hearts, because God sometimes leaves men to
be wicked, that he may afterwards turn it to their good,
when he in infinite wisdom sees meet so to do. We must
not go and be wicked on purpose that we may get good
by it. It will be very absurd, as well as horridly pre
sumptuous, for us so to do. Though God sometimes in
his sovereign mercy makes those workings of corruption,
and a spirit of opposition and enmity against God, a
means of showing them the vileness of their own hearts,
and so to turn to their good. So God oftentimes is pro
voked thereby utterly to withdraw and forsake them, after
the example of those murmurers, whose carcasses fell in the
wilderness, of whom God sware in his wrath that they
should never enter into his rest. And they who allow
themselves therein, are the most likely so to provoke God.
But it is God's manner to show men the plague of their
own hearts by some means or other, before he reveals his
redeeming love to their souls. While sinners are uncon
vinced sin lies hid. They take no notice of it. But
God makes the law effectual to bring men's own sins of
heart and life to be reflected on, and observed. Romans
vii. 9. " I was alive without the law once, but when the
commandment came, sin revived." Then sin appeared and
came to light, which was not before observed. Joseph's
revealing himself to his brethren, is probably typical of
Christ's revealing himself to the soul of a sinner, making
known himself in his love, and in his near relation of a
brother, and a redeemer of his soul. But before Joseph
revealed himself to them, they were made to reflect upon
themselves, and say, "we are verily guilty."
2. God convinces sinners of the dreadful danger they
are in by reason of their sin. Having their sins set before
them, God makes them sensible of the relation which their
sin has to misery. And here are two things of which they
are convinced about their danger.
1. God makes them sensible that his displeasure is very
dreadful. Before they heard often about the anger of
God, and the fierceness of his wrath ; but they were not
moved by it. But now they are made sensible that it is a
dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.
They are made id some measure sensible of the dreadful
ness of hell. They are led with fixedness and impression
to think what a dismal thing it will be to have God an
enraged enemy, setting to work the misery of a soul, and
how dismal it will be to dwell in such torment for ever
without hope. Isaiah xxxiii. 14. "The sinners in Zion
are afraid ; fearfulness hath surprised the hypocrites. Who
among us shall dwell with the devouring fire ? who
among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings ? " Other
sinners are told of hell, but convinced sinners often have
hell, as it were, in their view. They being impressed with
a sense of the dreadfulness of its misery, is the cause why
it works upon their imagination oftentimes ; and it will
seem as though they saw the dismal flames of hell ; as
though they saw God in implacable wrath exerting his

fury upon them; as though they heard the cries and
shrieks of the damned.
2. They are made in some measure sensible of the con
nexion there is between their sins and that wrath, or how
their sin and guilt exposes them to that wrath, of the
dreadfulness of which they have such lively apprehensions,
and so fear takes hold of them. They are afraid that will
be their portion. And they are sensible that they are in a
miserable and doleful condition by reason of sin. Many
things in the Scriptures make it evident that this is God's
method. The account we have of our first parents confirms
it. They had a sense of guilt and danger, before Christ
was revealed to them. They were guilty, and were afraid
of God's wrath, and ran and hid themselves. They were
terribly afraid when they heard God coming. And doubt
less their sense of their guilt and fear, when they were
brought before God, and were called to an account, and
God asked them what they had done, and whether they
had eaten of that tree, whereof he commanded them that
they should not eat, prepared them for a discovery of
mercy. God made them sensible of their guilt and danger
before he revealed to them the covenant of grace. And
it is probable that their reflecting upon what God said
about the seed of the woman bruising the serpent's head,
soon wrought faith ; that it was not long before that dis
covery God made of a merciful design towards them, was
a means of true consolation and hope to them. Joseph's
brethren were brought into great distress for fear of their
lives before Joseph revealed himself to them. Those who
were converted by Peter's sermon, were first pricked in
their hearts in a sense of their guilt and their danger.
Acts ii. 37. And Paul, before he had his first comfort,
trembled, and was astonished. Acts ix. 6. And con
tinued three days and three nights, and neither ate nor
drank, which expressed his great distress. The jailer,
before he was converted, was in terror. He called for a
light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down
before Paul and Silas. Acts xvi. 29, 30. Christ's invit&-
tion is made more especially to the weary and heavy
laden ; which doubtless has respect, at least partly, to
labouring and being weary with a sense of guilt and danger.
We read when David was in the cave, then every one who
was in distress, was gathered unto him. 1 Samuel xxii. 1.
This doubtless was written as typifying Jesus Christ, and
the referring of those who were in fear and distress unto
him. The expression of flying for refuge, by which
coming to Christ is signified, implies, that before' they
come, they are in fear of some evil. They apprehend
themselves in danger, and this fear gives wings to their
feet. Proverbs xviii. 10. "The name of the Lord is a
strong tower." The voice of God to a sinner, when he
gives him true comfort, is a still small voice. But this
voice is preceded by a strong wind, and a terrible earth
quake, and fire, as it was in Horeb when Elijah was there.
1 Kings xix. 11, 12. "And, behold, the Lord passed by,
and a great and strong wind rent the mountains and brake
in pieces the rocks before the Lord ; but the Lord was
not in the wind : and after the wind an earthquake ; but
the Lord was not in the earthquake : and after the earth
quake a fire ; but the Lord was not in the fire : and after
the fire a still small voice."
Another thing in the Scriptures, which seems to evince
this, is the frequent comparison made between the church
spiritually bringing forth Christ, and a woman in travail,
in pain to be delivered. John xvi. 21. and Revelation
xii. 2. The conversion of a sinner is represented by the
same thing. It is . bringing forth Christ iii the heart.
Paul speaks .of men's regeneration as of Christ being
brought forth in them. Gal. iv. 19. And therefore
Christ calls believers his mother. Matt. xii. 49, 50.
" And he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples,
and said, Behold my mother and my brethren ! For
whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in
heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother."
Hosea v. 15. "I will go and return to my place till
they acknowledge their offence, and seek my face : in
their affliction they will seek me early." (Till tjiey shall
be guilty, in the original.)
Doctrine. That it is God's manner to make men sen-

SERMON II.

833

sible of their misery and unworthiness, before he appears
in his mercy and love to them.
III. They are made sensible of the desert of their sin ;
that their sin deserves that wrath of God to which it ex
poses them. They are not only sensible of the dreadful
ness of God's wrath, how fearful a thing it would be to
fall into the hands of tbe living God, and to sustain the
eternal expressions of his fierce anger, as well as of the
connexion between their sins and this wrath, and how their
sins expose them to it ; but God is also wont, before he
comforts them, to show them that their sins deserve this
wrath. By a clear discovery of the connexion between
their sin and God's wrath, they are sensible of their danger
of hell ; of which many are in a measure sensible, who
are wholly insensible of their desert of hell. The threat
enings of the law make them afraid indeed, that God will
punish sins ; yet they have no thorough apprehension of
their desert of the punishment threatened ; and therefore
many, who are afraid, murmur against God. They charge
him foolishly with being hard and cruel. But it is God's
manner before he speaks peace to them, and reveals his
redeeming love and mercy in Jesus Christ, to make them
sensible that they also deserve it. Thus Matt, xviii. 24,
25, 26. " And when he had begun to reckon, one was
brought unto him which owed him ten thousand talents.
But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded
_ him to be sold, and his wife and children and all that he
had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell
down and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience
with me, and I will pay thee all. Then the lord of that
servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and
forgave him the debt." Very commonly when men are
first made sensible of their danger, their mouths are
open against God and his dealings ; that is, their hearts
are full of murmurings. But it is God's manner before he
comforts and reveals his mercy and love to them, to stop
their mouths, and make them acknowledge their guilt, or
their desert of the threatened punishment. Rom. iii. 19,
20. " Now we know that what things soever the law saith,
it saith to them who are under the law, that every mouth
may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty be
fore God. Therefore, by the deeds of the law there 'shall
no flesh be justified in his sight ; for by the law is the
knowledge of sin." God would convince men of their
guilt before he reveals a pardon to them. Now a man
cannot be said to be thoroughly sensible of his guilt, till
he is sensible that he deserves hell. A man must be sen
sible that he is guilty of death, or guilty of damnation, to
use the scriptural mode of expression, before God will re
veal to him his freedom from damnation. A sense of guilt
consists in two things — in a sense of sin, and in a sense of
the relation which sin has to punishment. Now the rela
tion which sin has to punishment, is also twofold : first,
the connexion which it has with punishment, by which it
exposes to it, and brings it; and secondly, its desert of
punishment. When a man is truly convinced of his de
sert of the punishment to which his sin exposes him, then
he may be said to be thoroughly sensible of his guilt.
Then he is become guilty, in the sense of our text, and in
the sense of Rom. iii. 20.
Inquiry. How is it that a sinner is made sensible of
his desert of God's wrath ? A natural man may have a
sense of this, though not the same sense which a person
may have after conversion ; because a natural man cannot
have a true sight of sin, and of the evil of it. A man
cannot truly know the evil of sin against God, except it
be by a discovery of his glory and excellence ; and then
he will be sensible how great an evil it is to sin against
him. Yet it cannot be denied that natural men are capa
ble of a conviction of their desert of hell, or that their con
sciences may be convinced of it without a sight of God's
glory. The consciences of wicked men will also be con
vinced of the justice of their sentence and of their punish
ment at the day of judgment ; and doubtless will echo to
the sentence ofthe Judge, and condemn them to the same
punishment. Here, therefore, we would inquire how it is
that a natural man may be made sensible of this. 1 . We
shall show what is the principle assisted. 2. How it
is assisted. And 3. What are the chief external means
which are used in order to this.
VOL. II. 3 H

1. What principle in man is assisted in convincing him
of his desert of eternal punishment ? No new principle is
infused. Natural men have only natural principles ; and
therefore all that is done by the Spirit of God before rege
neration is by assisting natural principles. To observe,
therefore, in answer to this inquiry,
That the principle, which is assisted in making natural
men sensible of their desert of wrath, is natural conscience.
Though man has lost a principle of love to God, and all
spiritual principles, by the fall, yet natural conscience re
mains. Now there are two things, which are the proper
work of natural conscience. One is to give man a sense
of right and wrong. A natural man has no sense of the
beauty and amiableness of virtue, or ofthe turpitude and
odiousness of vice. But yet every man has that naturally
within, which testifies to him that some things are right,
and others wrong. Thus if a man steals, or commits mur
der, there is something within, which tells him that he has
done wrong ; he knows that he has not done right. Rom.
ii. 14, 15. "For when the Gentiles, which have not the
law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these
having not the law, are a law unto themselves ; which
show the work of the law written in their hearts, their con
science also bearing witness, and their thoughts the mean
while accusing, or else excusing, one another." And the
other work of natural conscience is to suggest the relation
there is between right and wrong, and a retribution. Man
has that in him, which suggests to him, when he has done
ill, a relation between that ill and punishment. If a man
has done that which his conscience tells him is wrong, is
unjust, his conscience tells him that he deserves to be pu
nished for it. Thus natural conscience has a twofold
power ; a teaching, or accusing, and a condemning power.
The Spirit of God, therefore, assists natural conscience
the more thoroughly to do this, its work, and so convinces
a man of sin. Conscience naturally suggests, when he
has done a known evil, that he deserves punishment ; and
being assisted to its work thoroughly, a man is convinced
that he deserves eternal punishment. Though natural
conscience does remain in the man since the fall, yet it
greatly needs assistance in order to its work. It is greatly
hindered in doing its work by sin. Every thing in man,
which is part of his perfection, is hindered and impaired by
sin. A faculty of reason remains since the fall, but it is
greatly impaired and blinded. So natural conscience re
mains, but sin, in a great degree, stupifies it, and hinders
it in its work. Now when God convinces a sinner, he
assists his conscience against the stupefaction of sin, and
helps it to do its work more fieely and fully. The Spirit
of God work1; immediately upon men's consciences. In
conviction their consciences are awakened. They are con
vinced in their consciences. Their consciences smite them
and condemn them.
2. It may be inquired, How God assists natural con
science so as to convince the sinner of bis desert of hell ?
I answer, 1 . In general, it is by light. The whole work of God is
carried on in the heart of man from his first convictions to
his conversion by light. It is by discoveries which are
made to his soul. But by what light is it, that a sinner is
made sensible that he deserves God's wrath ? It is some
discovery that he has, which makes him sensible of the
heinousness of disobeying and casting contempt upon God.
The light which gives evangelical humiliation, and which
makes man sensible of the hateful and odious nature of
sin, is a discovery of God's glory and excellence and
grace. But what is it which a natural man sees of God,
which makes him sensible that sin against God deserves
his wrath ; for he sees nothing of the excellence and love
liness of God's glory and grace ? I answer,
2. Particularly, it seems to be a discovery of God's aw
ful and terrible greatness. Natural men cannot see any
thing of God's loveliness, his amiable and glorious grace,
or any thing which should attract their love; but they
may see his terrible greatness to excite their terror. Wick
ed men in another world, though they do not see his love
liness and grace, yet they see his awful greatness, and that
makes them sensible of the heinousness of sin. The
damned in hell are sensible ofthe heinousness of their sin.
Their consciences declare it to them. And they are made

834

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

sensible of it by what they see of the awful greatness of
that Being, against whom they have sinned. And wicked
men in this world are capable of being made sensible ofthe
heinousness of sin the same way. If a wicked soul is
capable white wicked of receiving the discoveries of God's
terrible majesty in another world, it is capable of it in this.
God may, if he pleases, make wicked men sensible of the
same thing here. And in this way natural men may be so
made sensible of the heinousness of sin, as to be con
vinced that they deserve hell ; as is evident in that it is by
this very means, that wicked men will be made sensible of
the justice of their punishment in another world, and at
the day of judgment. For then the wicked will see so
much of the awful greatness of God, the Judge, that it
will convince their consciences what a heinous thing it was
in them to disobey and contemn such a God, and will
convince them that they therefore deserve his wrath.
Which shows that wicked men are capable of being con
vinced in the same way. A wicked man, while a wicked
man, is capable of hearing the thunders, and seeing the
devouring fire, of mount Sinai ; that is, he is capable of
being made sensible of that terrible majesty and greatness
of God, which was discovered at the giving of the law.
But this brings me to the
3. Thing, viz. the principal outward means, which the
Spirit of God makes use of in this work of convincing
men of their desert of hell. And that is the law. The Spi
rit of God in all his work upon the souls of men, works
by his word. And in this whole work of conviction of
sin, that part ofthe word is principally made use of; viz.
the Law. It is the law which makes men sensible of
their sin ; and it is the law, attended with its awful
threatenings and curses, which gives a sense of the awful
greatness, the authority, the power, the jealousy of God.
Wicked men are made sensible of the tremendous great
ness of God, as it were, in the same manner in which the
children of Israel were ; viz. by the thunders, and earth
quake, and devouring fire, and sound of the trumpet, and
terrible voice at mount Sinai. All the people who were
in the camp trembled, and they said, Let not God speak
with us, lest we die. So that it is the law, which God
makes use of in assisting the natural conscience to do
its work. Gal. iii. 24. " Wherefore the law was our
schoolmaster to bring us to Christ." It is the law which
God makes use of, to make men sensible of their guilt,
and to stop their mouths. Rom. iii. 19. " Now we
know that whatsoever things the law saith, it saith to them
that are under the law, that every mouth may be stopped,
and all the world may become guilty before God." It is
the law, which kills men as to trusting in their own righte
ousness. " For I was alive without the law once, but
when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died."
Gal. ii. 19. " For I through the law am dead to the
law." Conviction, which precedes conversion, is of sin
and misery. But men are not thoroughly sensible of their
sin or guilt, till they are sensible they deserve hell ; nor
thoroughly sensible of their misery, till they are sensible
they are helpless.
4. It is God's manner to make men sensible of their
helplessness in their own strength. It is usual with sin
ners, when they are first made sensible of their danger of
hell, to attempt by their own strength to save themselves.
They in some measure see their danger, and endeavour to
work out their own deliverance. They are striving to
make themselves better. They strive to convert themselves,
to work their hearts into a believing frame, and to exercise
a saving trust in Christ. Having heard that if ever they
believe, they must put their trust in Christ, and in him
alone, for salvation, they think they will trust in Christ
and cast their souls upon him. And this they endeavour
to do in their own strength. This is very common with
persons upon a sick bed, when thev are afraid that they
shall die and go to hell, and are told that they must put
their trust in Christ alone for salvation. They attempt to
do it in their, own strength. So sinners will be striving
without a sense of their insufficiency in themselves to bring
their own hearts to love God, and to choose him for their
portion, and to repent of their sins. Or they strive to make
themselves better, that so God may be more willing to
convert them and give them his grace, and enable them to

believe in Christ, and love God, and repent of their sins.
But before God appears to them as their help and deliver
ance, it is his manner to make them sensible that they are
utterly helpless in themselves. They are brought to
despair of help from themselves. There is a death to
all tlieir hopes from themselves. Rom. vii. 9. Before
God opens the prison doors, he makes them see that they
are shut up, that they are close prisoners, and that there is
no way in which they can escape. Christ tells us in
Isa. lxi. 1. that he was sent to bind up the broken
hearted, and to proclaim liberty to captives, and the open
ing of the prison to them that are bound. Christ was sent
to open the prison to them that are not only really,
but sensibly, bound. Gal. iii. 23. " But before faiih
came, we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith,
that should afterwards be revealed." God makes men
sensible that they are in a forlorn condition, that they are
wretched, and miserable, and blind, and naked, before he
comforts them. Christ tells us in John ix. 39. " For
judgment I am come into the world, that they which see
not, might see ; and that they which see, might be made
blind ;" meaning, partly at least, by those that see, those
who think they see ; having respect to the Pharisees, who
were proud of their knowledge ; and by the blind, those
who are sensibly blind. This is emblematically represent
ed by Saul's blindness before his first comfort. He was
blind till Ananias came to him to open his eyes ; proba
bly designed to intimate to us, that before God opens
the eyes of men in conversion, he makes them sensibly
blind. God brings men to this despair in their own
strength in these ways.
1. God oftentimes makes use of men's own experience
to convince them that they are helpless in themselves.
When they first set out in seeking salvation, it may be
they thought it an easy thing to be converted. They
thought they should presently bring themselves to repent
of their sins, and believe in Christ, and accordingly they
strove in their own strength with hopes of success. But
they were disappointed. And so God suffers them to go
on striving to open their own eyes, and mend their own
hearts. But they find no success. They have been striv
ing to see for a long time, yet they are as blind as ever ;
and can see nothing. It is all Egyptian darkness. They
have been striving to make themseives better; but they
are bad as ever. They have often striven to do something
which is good, to be in the exercise of good affections,
which should be acceptable to God; but they have no suc
cess. And it seems to them, that instead of growing bet
ter, they grow worse and worse ; their hearts are fuller of
wicked thoughts than they were at first ; they see no more
likelihood of their conversion than there was at first. So
God suffers them to strive in their own strength, till they
are discouraged, and despair of helping themselves. The
prodigal son first strove to fill his belly with the husks
which the swine did eat. But when he despaired of be
ing helped in that way, then he came to himself, and
entertained thoughts of returning to his father's house.
2. God sometimes, by a particular assistance of the un
derstanding, enables men to see so much of their own
hearts, as at once causes them to despair of helping them
selves. He sometimes convinces them by their own trials,
suffering them to try a long time to effect their own salva
tion, until they are discouraged. But God, if he pleases,
can convince men without such endeavours of their own;
and sometimes he does so ; as must be the case in many
sudden conversions, of which the instances are not unfre-
quent. By revealing to them their own hearts, he some
times enables them to perceive that they are so remote
from the exercise of love to God, of faith, and of every
other christian grace, as well as from the possession of the
least degree of spiritual light, that they despair of ever
bringing themselves to it. They perceive that within their
souls ail is darkness as darkness itself, and as the shadow
of death, and that it is too much for them to cause light.
They find themselves dead to any thing good, and thereJ
fore despair of bringing themselves to the performance of
gracious acts. Thus we have shown that it is God's
ordinary manner, before he reveals his redeeming mercy
to the souls of men, to make them sensible of their sinful
ness and danger, of their desert of the divine wrath, and

SERMON II,

835

of their utter helplessness in themselves. This we have
shown to be most accordant with the Holy Scriptures, as
well as with God's method of dealing with mankind in
other things. And we have shown in an imperfect man
ner how, and by what means, it is, that God thus convinces
men. This work is what Christ speaks of, as one part of
tlie work of the Holy Ghost. John xvi. 8. " When he is
come, he will convince the world of sin, and of righteous
ness, and of judgment." It is God's manner to convince
men of sin, before he convinces them of righteousness.
I come now to show the reasons of the doctrine.
The propriety of such a method of proceeding is very
obvious. How agreeable to the divine wisdom does it
seem, that the sinner should be brought to such a convic
tion of his danger and misery, as to perceive his utter
incapacity to help himself by any strength or contrivance
of his own, and. his entire unworthiness of God's help, and
desert of his wrath ; and that he should be brought to
acknowledge that God, in the exercise of his holy sove
reignty, may with perfect justice do with him as before he
appears in his pardoning mercy and love, as his helper
and friend. A man who is converted is successively in
two exceedingly different states ; first, a very miserable,
wretched state of condemnation ; and then in a blessed
condition, a state of justification. How agreeable, there
fore, does it seem to the divine wisdom, that such a man
should be conscious of this : first, of his miserable, con
demned state, and then of his happy state ; that, as he is
really first guilty, and under a deep desert of hell, before
he is really pardoned and admitted to God's favour, so he
should first be conscious that he is guilty, and under
such a desert of hell, before he is conscious of being the
object of pardoning and redeeming mercy and grace.
But the propriety of God's thus dealing with the souls of
men, wili appear perhaps better by considering the follow
ing reasons :
1. It is the will of God, that the discoveries of his
terrible majesty, and awful holiness and justice, should
accompany the discoveries of his grace and love, in order
that he may give to his creatures worthy and just appre
hensions of himself. It is the glory of God, that these
attributes are united in the divine nature, that as he is a
being of infinite mercy and love and grace, so he is a being
of infinite and tremendous majesty, and awful holiness
and justice. The perfect and harmonious union of these
attributes, in the divine nature, is what constitutes the
chief part of their glory. God's awful and terrible attri
butes, and his mild and gentle attributes, reflect glory one
on the other ; and the exercise of the one is in the perfect
consistency and harmony with that of the other. If there
were the exercise of the mild and gentle attributes without
the other, if there were love and mercy and grace in in
consistency with God's authority and justice and infinite
hatred of sin, it would be no glory. If God's love and
grace did not harmonize with his justice and the honour
of his majesty, far from being an honour, they would be
a dishonour to God. Therefore as God designs to glorify
himself when he makes discoveries of the one, he will also
make discoveries of the other. When he makes discoveries
of his love and grace, it shall appear that they harmonize
with those other attributes ; otherwise his true glory would
not be discovered. If men were sensible of the love of
God without a sense of those other attributes, they would
be exposed to have improper and unworthy apprehensions
of God, as though he were gracious to sinners in such a
manner as did not become a Being of infinite majesty and
infinite hatred of sin. And as it would expose to unwor
thy apprehensions of God, so it would expose the soul in
some respects to behave unsuitably towards God. There
would not be a due reverence blended with love and joy.
Such discoveries of love, without answerable discoveries of
awful greatness, would dispose the soul to come with an
undue boldness to God. • The very nature and design of
the gospel show that this is the will of God, that those
who have the discoveries of his love, should also have the
discoveries of those other attributes. For this was the
very end of Christ's laying down his life, and coming into
the world, to render the glory of God's authority, holiness,
and justice, consistent with his grace in pardoning and
justifying sinners, that while God thus manifested his
3 H 2

mercy, we might not conceive any unworthy thoughts of
him with respect to those other attributes. Seeing, there
fore, that this is the very end of Christ's coming into the
world, we may conclude that those who are actually
redeemed by Christ, and have a true discovery of Christ
made to their souls, have a discovery of Goo's terrible
ness and justice to prepare them for the discovery of his
love and mercy. God, of old, before the death and suffer
ings of Christ were so fully revealed, was ever careful that
the discoveries of both should be together, so that men
might not apprehend God's mercy in pardoning sin and
receiving sinners, to the disparagement of his justice.
When God proclaimed his name to Moses, in answer to
his desire that he might see God's glory, he indeed pro
claimed his mercy : " The Lord, the Lord God, gracious
and merciful, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness
and truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving ini
quity, and transgression, and sin." But he did not stop
here, but also proclaimed his holy justice and vengeance;
" and that will by no means clear the guilty ; visiting the
iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the
children's children unto the third and fourth generation."
Thus they are joined together again in the fourth com
mandment. " For I, the Lord thy God, am a jealous
God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children
unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me."
Thus we find them joined together in passages too numer
ous to be mentioned. When God was about to speak to
Elijah in Horeb, he was first prepared for such a familiar
conversing with God by awful manifestations of the divine
majesty. First there was a wind, which rent the rocks,
and then an earthquake, and then a devouring fire.
1 Kings xix. 11, 12. God is careful even in heaven,
where the discoveries of his love and grace are given in
such an exalted degree, also to provide means for a pro
portional sense of his terribleness, and the dreadfulness
of his displeasure, by their beholding it in the miseries
and torments of the damned, at the same time that they
enjoy his love. Even the man Christ Jesus was first
made sensible of the wrath of God, before his exaltation
to that transcendant height of enjoyment of the Father's
love. And this is one reason that God gives sinners a
sense of his wrath against their sins, and of his justice,
before he gives them the discoveries of his redeeming love.
2. Unless a man be thus convinced of his sin and
misery before God makes him sensible of his redeeming
love and mercy, he cannot be sensible of that love and
mercy as it is ; viz. that it is free and sovereign. When
God reveals his redeeming grace to men, and makes them
truly sensible of it, he would make them sensible of it as
it is. God's grace and love towards sinners is in itself
very wonderful, as it redeems from dreadful wrath. But
men cannot be sensible of this until they perceive in some
adequate degree how dreadful the wrath of God is. God's
redeeming grace and love in Christ is free and sovereign,
as it is altogether without any worthiness in those who are
the objects of it. But men cannot be sensible of this,
until they are sensible of their own unworthiness. The
grace of God in Christ is glorious and wonderful, as it is
not only as the objects of it are without worthiness, but as
they deserve the everlasting wrath and displeasure of God.
But they cannot be sensible of this until they are made
sensible that they deserve God's eternal wrath. The grace
of God in Christ is wonderful, as it saves and redeems
from so many and so great sins, and from the punishment
they have deserved. But sinners cannot be sensible of this
till they are in some measure sensible of their sinfulness,
and brought to reflect upon the sins of their lives, and to
see the wickedness of their hearts. It is the glory of
God's grace in Christ, that it is so free and sovereign.
And doubtless it is the will of God, that when he reveals
his grace to the soul, it should be seen in its proper glory,
though not perfectly. When men see the glory of God's
grace aright, they see it as free and unmerited, and con
trary to the demerit of their sins. All who have a spiritual
understanding of the grace of God in Christ, have a per
ception of the glory of that grace. But the glory of the
divine grace appears chiefly in its being bestowed on the
sinner when he is in a condition so exceedingly miserable
and necessitous. In order, therefore, that the sinner may

-836

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

be sensible of this glory, he must first be sensible of the
greatness of his misery, and then of the greatness of the
divine mercy. The heart of man is not prepared to
receive the mercy of God in Christ, as free and unmerited,
till he is sensible of his own demerit. Indeed the soul is
not capable of receiving a revelation or discovery of the
redeeming grace of God in Christ, as redeeming grace,
without being convinced of sin and misery. He must see
bis sin and misery before he can see the grace of God in
redeeming him from that sin and misery.
3. Until the sinner is convinced of his sin and misery,
he is not prepared to receive the redeeming mercy and
grace of God, as through a Mediator ; because he does not
see his need of a Mediator till he sees his sin and misery.
If there were, on the part of God, any exercise of absolute
and immediate mercy toward sinners bestowed without
any satisfaction or purchase, the soul might possibly see
that without a conviction of its sin and misery. But there
is not. All God's mercy to sinners is through a Saviour.
The redeeming mercy and grace of God is mercy and grace
in Christ. And when God discovers his mercy to the soul,
he will discover it as mercy in a Saviour ; and it is his
will that the mercy should be received as in and through
a Saviour, with a full consciousness of its being through
his righteousness and satisfaction. It is the will of God,
that as all the spiritual comforts which his people receive
are in and through Christ, so they should be sensible that
they receive them through Christ, and that they can receive
them in no other way. It is the will of God, that his
people should have their eyes directed to Christ, and should
depend upon him for mercy and favour, that whenever
they receive comforts through his purchase, they should re
ceive them as from him. And that because God would glorify
his Son as Mediator, as the glory of man's salvation be
longs to Christ, so it is the wiil of God that all the people
of Christ, all who are saved by him, should receive their
salvation as of him, and should attribute the glory of it to
him ; and that none who will not give the glory of salva
tion to Christ, should have the benefit of it. Upon this
account God insists upon it, and it is absolutely necessary,
that a sinner's conviction of his sin, and misery, and help
lessness in himself, should precede or accompany the re
velation of the redeeming love and grace of God. I shall
also mention two other ends which are hereby attained.
4. By this means the redeeming mercy and love of God
are more highly prized and rejoiced in, when discovered.
By the previous discoveries of danger, misery, and help
lessness, and desert of wrath, the heart is prepared to em
brace a discovery of mercy. When the soul stands trem
bling at the brink ofthe pit, and despairs of any help from
itself, it is prepared joyfully to receive tidings of deliver
ance. If God is pleased at such a time to make the soul
hear his still small voice, his call to himself and to a Sa
viour, the soul is prepared to give it a joyful reception.
The gospel then, if it be heard spiritually, will be glad
tidings indeed ; the most joyful which the sinner ever
heard. The love of God and of Christ to the world, and
to him in particular, will be admired, and Christ will be
most precious. To remember what danger he was in,
what seas surrounded him ; and then to reflect how safe he
now is in Christ, and how sufficient Christ is to defend
him, and to answer all his wants, will cause the greater
exultation of soul. God, in this method of dealing with
the souls of his elect, consults their happiness, as well as
his own glory. And it increases happiness, to be made
sensible of their misery and unworthiness, before God
comforts them ; for their comfort, when they receive it, is
so much the sweeter.
5. The heart is more prepared and disposed to praise
God for it. This follows from the reasons already men
tioned ; as they are hereby made sensible how free and
sovereign the mercy of God is towards them, and how
great his grace in saving them ; and as they more highly
prize the mercy and love of God made known to them :
all will dispose them to magnify the name of God, to exalt
the love of God the Father in giving his Son to them, and
to exalt Jesus Christ by their praise, who laid down his
life for them to redeem them from all iniquity. They are
ready to say, How miserable should I have been, had not
God had pity upon me, and provided me a Saviour ! In

what a miserable condition should I have been, had not
Christ loved me, and given himself for me ! I must have
endured that dreadful wrath of God ; I must have suffered
the punishment which I had deserved by all that great sin
and wickedness of which I have been guilty.
APPLICATION.
I. This subject admits of an application to unconverted
sinners. If it be so, as has been represented, then let me
exhort you to seek those convictions. Though you are at
present sinners, and have no terrifying sense of your danger
of hell, yet I presume to say concerning most of you at
least, that you do not intend to go to hell. When you hap
pen to think about another world, you flatter yourself, that
in some way or other you shall escape eternal misery ; or at
least, you do not think of it with a willingness to be damn
ed. But if it be, that you do not suffer eternal damnation,
you have a great work to do before you die. It ordinarily
is a very difficult work, especially to those who have gone
on for a considerable time in ways of wickedness under
the means of grace. If you are ever tmly converted, you
must be convinced of your misery and unworthiness;
you must be guilty in your own sense. Begin your work,
then, and seek to be made sensible of your misery and un
worthiness. Make haste, and set about this work speedi
ly. You may defer it so long, that it will be too late. It
may be too late, if you delay, in these two ways. It
may be too late, as you may be overtaken with death, be
fore you set about it, as thousands and millions have been
before you. And if you should not die before you begin,
yet it may be too late, as you may never have an oppor
tunity to get through. Some persons are a long time un
der convictions, before they are converted. There are some,
whom God suffers to continue a long time seeking salva
tion in their own strength before he makes them despair of
help from themselves. They continue many years trusting
in their own righteousness, as it were, wandering from
mountain to hill, from one hold to another, seeking rest and
safety. They are a long time building castles in the air.
They sometimes flatter themselves from one consideration,
and sometimes from another. And if you should delay,
there is danger that you may not have time. Some are
many years under fears of damnation, and are seeking sal
vation. And there are many for whom death is too quick.
Here we will consider briefly what are the occasions ofthe
stupidity and senselessness of sinners ; and thence shall
take occasion to warn those, who would seek the convic
tions of God's Spirit.
1. Some provoke God to withhold the strivings and
convincing influences of his Spirit. Some provoke God to
give them up to hardness of heart. God lets them alone,
and intends to let them alone. Hosea iv. 16. " Ephraim
is joined to idols; let him alone." Psal. lxxxi. 11,12.
" But my people would not hearken to my voice ; and
Israel would none of me. So I gave them up to their
own hearts' lust ; and they walked in their own counsels."
Hosea v. 15. — I will go and return to my place, till they
acknowledge their offence, and seek my face ; in their
affliction they will seek me early.
Doctrine. It is God's manner to make men sensible of
their misery and unworthiness, before he appears in his
mercy and love to thein ; particularly before he appears in
his redeeming love and mercy to their souls.
Second use. To exhort those, who have some convictions
of sin and danger, that they do not lose them. If you
have the strivings of God's Spirit, God has met with you,
led you to reflect upon your sins, and sensible that you are
in danger of hell ; and so made you concerned about your
soul, and put you upon seeking salvation. Take heed that
you do not lose your convictions, and grow senseless of
eternal things, and negligent of your soul's concern, that
you do not return to your former careless way of living,
that you do not return to your former sins. Here consider,
1 . That there is danger of it. It is not all who are under
concern for their souls, and who, by the strivings of God's
Spirit, are put upon seeking and striving for salvation, who
hold out. There are many more, who set out at the be-

SERMON II.

33?

ginning of the race, who do not hold out to the end.
Many things intervene between the beginning and the end
of the race, which divert, and stop, and turn back many
who commenced well. There are many, who seem to be
under strong convictions, and to be very earnest in seeking,
whose convictions are but short-lived. And some, who
seem to be much concerned about salvation for a consider
able time, it may be for years together, yet by degrees grow
careless and negligent. There is much in your own heart,
which tends to stupify you. It is the natural tendency of
sin and lust, to stupify the conscience. And as corrup
tion is reigning as yet in your heart, it will ever be ready
to exert itself in such acts, as will have a great tendency
to drive away your convictions. And Satan is doubtless
diligently watching over you, striving in all ways to abate,
and to take off, your convictions. He joins in with the
sloth and lusts of your heart to persuade to negligence,
and to turn your mind to other things. And the world is
full of objects, which tend to take off your mind from the
soul's concern, and are constantly, as it were, endeavouring
to take possession of your mind, and to drive out the con
cerns of another world.
2. Consider, if you lose your convictions, it will be no
advantage to you that ever you had them, as to any
furtherance of your salvation. Whatever terrors you have
been under about damnation, to whatever reflections you
have been brought upon your sins, whatever strong desires
you have had after deliverance, and whatever earnest
Erayers you have made, it will all be lost. What you
ave suffered of fear and concern will turn to no good ac
count; and what you have done, the pains you have taken,
will be utterly lost. When you have strove against sin,
and laboured in duty, have stemmed the stream, and have
proceeded a considerable way up the hill, and made some
Erogress towards the kingdom of heaven, when once you
ave lost your convictions, you will be as far from salva
tion as you were before you began ; you will lose all the
ground you have gained ; you will go quite down to the
bottom of the hill ; the stream will immediately carry you
back. Allwillbelost; you had as good never have had those
convictions, as to have had them, and then to lose them.
3. You do not know that you shall ever have such an
opportunity again. God is now striving with you by his
Spirit. If you should lose the strivings of his Spirit, it may
be that God's Spirit would never return again. If you are
under convictions, you have a precious opportunity, which,
if you knew the worth of it, you would esteem as better
than any temporal advantages. You have a price in your
hands to get wisdom, which is more valuable than gold or
silver. It is a great privilege to live under means of grace,
to enjoy the word and ordinances of God, and to know
the way of salvation. It is a greater thing still to live
under a powerful dispensation of the means of grace
under a very instructive, convincing ministry. But it is
a much greater privilege still to be the subjeot of the con
vincing influences of the Spirit of God. If you have these,
you have a precious advantage in your hands. And if
you lose it, it is questionable whether you ever have the
like advantage again. We are counselled to seek the Lord
while he may be found, and to call upon him while he is
near. Isa.lv. 6. A time in which God's Spirit is striving
with a man by convictions of his sin and danger, is
especially such a time, that is a sinner's best opportunity.
It is especially a day of salvation. God may be said to
be near, when he pours out his Spirit upon many in the
place where a person dwells. It is prudence for all then
to be calling upon God as being near at such a time. But
especially is God near, at a time when he is pouring out
his Spirit in immediately convincing and awakening a
man's own soul. If therefore God's Spirit is now at work
with you, you have a precious opportunity. Take heed
that you do not by any means let it slip. It may doubtless
be said concerning many, that they have missed their
opportunity. Most men, who live under the gospel, have
a special opportunity, that there is a certain season, which
God appoints for them, which is, above all others, a day
of grace with them, when men have a very fair opportunity
for securing eternal salvation, if they did but know it, and
had hearts for it. But the misery of man is great upon
him ; for man knoweth not his time. The wise man tells

us, Eccl. viii. 6, 7. that " To every purpose there is time
and judgment, therefore the misery of man is great upon
him. For he knoweth not that which shall be." And
again, ix. 12. " Man knoweth not his time." If the Spirit
of God is now striving with you, it may be it is your time ;
and it may be your only time. Be wise, therefore, and
understand the things which belong to your peace, before
they are hid from your eyes. You have not the influences
of the Spirit of God in your own power. You cannot have
convictions and awakenings when you please. God is
sovereign as to the bestowment of them. If you are ready
to flatter yourself, that although you neglect now, when
you are young, yet you shall be awakened again ; that is
a vain and groundless presumption. It is a difficult thing
for a man who has been going on in a sinful course, to
reform. There are a great many difficulties in the way of
thorough reformation. If you therefore have reformed,
and returned again to your former sin, you will have all
those difficulties to overcome again.
4. If you lose your convictions, and return again to a
way of allowed sinning, there will be less probability of
your salvation, than there was before you had any convic
tions. Backsliding is a very dangerous and pernicious
thing to men's souls, and is often spoken of as such in
God's word ; which was signified in that awful dispensa
tion of God in turning Lot's wife into a pillar of salt, to be
a standing emblem ofthe danger of looking back after one
has set out in a way of religion. The ill to which they are
subject, who lose their convictions, is not merely the loss
of their convictions. Their convictions are not only a
means of no good to them, but they turn to much ill. It
would have been better for them that they had never had
them. For they are now set more remote from salvation
than they were before. For having risen some considerable
way towards heaven, and falling back, they sink lower, and
farther down towards hell, than ever they were. The way
to heaven is now blocked up with greater difficulties than
ever it was. Their hearts now are become harder for- light,
and convictions being once conquered, they evermore are
an occasion of a greater hardness of heart than there was
before. Yea, there is no one thing whatsoever, which has
so great a tendency to it. Man's heart is hardened by
losing convictions, as iron is hardened by being heated
and cooled. If you are awakened, and afterwards lose
your convictions, it will be a harder thing to awaken you
again. If there were only that you are growing older,
there would be less probability of your being awakened
again ; for as persons grow older they grow less and less
susceptible of convictions ; evil habits grow stronger and
more deeply rooted in the heart. You greatly offend God
by quenching his Spirit, and returning as a dog to his
vomit, and as a sow that was washed to her wallowing in
the mire. And there is danger that God will say concern
ing you, as he did concerning Jerusalem, Ezek. xxiv. 13.
" Because I have purged thee, and thou wast not purp/ed,
thou shalt not be purged from thy filthiness any more, till
I have caused my fury to rest upon thee." If you return
again to your wicked course, if you should go to hell at
last, you will lament that ever you have had any convic
tions ; you will find your punishment so much the heavier.
And if you should be hereafter awakened, and set about
striving for salvation, yet you will probably find harder
work in it ; you do but make work for yourself by your
backsliding. You will not only have all to do over again
which you have done, and which you must have done, if
you had gone on, but there will be new work for repent
ance. There probably must be greater and more dreadful
terrors ; and it may be, a much longer time spent in seeking
and striving, a more difficult work with your own head
strong corruptions. If you were but sensible of one half
of the disad vantages of backsliding, and the many woes
and calamities in which it will involve you, you would be
careful not to lose your convictions.
5. Consider the encouragement there is in Scripture to
persevere in seeking salvation, as in Hos. vi. 3. " Then
shall we know if we follow on to know the Lord." Thence
we may gather, that God usually gives success to those who
diligently, and constantly, and perseveringly seek con
version. And that you be the better directed m taking care
not to lose your convictions, it is convenient that you

838

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

should be aware of those things which are common occa
sions of persons losing their convictions. I shall therefore
briefly mention some of them.
1. Persons falling into sin is very often the occasion of
their losing their convictions. Some temptation prevails,
so that they are drawn into some sin. Some lust upon
some occasion has been stirred up, and they have been
overcome by their sinful appetites, and have provoked
God to anger. It may be they have been drawn into some
criminal act of sensuality, and so have quenched die Spirit.
Or they have got into some quarrel with some persons.
Their spirits are disturbed, and heated with malice and
revenge, and they have acted sinfully, or have sinfully
expressed themselves, and have driven away the Spirit of
God. These are the most ready ways to put an end to
convictions. 2. Sometimes there happens some diverting occasion ;
there is some incident which for the present diverts their
minds. Their minds are taken off from their business for

a short time. They are drawn into company. It may be
they see something which revives a desire of worldly en
joyments and entertainments; or they are engaged in
some exercise and business, which diverts their minds.
And so afterwards they are more careless than they were
before. They are not so strict in attending private duties ;
and carelessness and stupidity by degrees steal upon them,
till they wholly lose their convictions.
3. Some change in their circumstances takes off their
minds from the concerns of their souls. Their minds are
diverted by the new circumstances with which they are
attended ; or are taken up with new pleasures and enjoy
ments, or with new cares and business, in which they are
involved. It may be they grow richer. They prosper in
the world, and their worldly good things crowd in, and
take possession of their minds. Or worldly cares are in
creased upon them, and they have so many things to look
after, that their minds are taken up, and they have not
time to look after their souls.

SERMON III.*

Hosea ii. 15.
And I will give her her vineyards from thence, and the val
ley qf Achor for a door qfhope ': and she shall sing there,
as in the days qf her youth, and as in the day when she
came up out qf the land qf Egypt.
In the context, the church of Israel is first threatened
with the awful desolation which God was about to bring
upon her for her dealing so falsely and treacherously with
God ; because though, in the bold language of the pro
phet, she had been married to God, she had yet gone after
other lovers, and had committed adultery with them.
" For she said, I will go after my lovers, that give me my
bread, and my water, my wool and my flax, mine oil and
my drink." Therefore God threatened that he would
strip her naked, and set her as in the day that she was
born, and make her as a wilderness, and set her like a dry
land, and slay her with thirst, and that he would discover
her lewdness in the sight of her lovers, and destroy her
vines and fig-trees, and make them a forest. So the pro
phet goes on terribly threatening her to the end of the
thirteenth verse. And those things were fulfilled in the
captivity of Israel in the land of Assyria. But in the
verse preceding the text, and in the remainder of the chap
ter, there follows a gracious promise of mercy, which God
would show her in the days of the gospel. " Therefore,
behold I will allure her, and bring her into the wilder
ness, and speak comfortably unto her. And I will give
her her vineyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for
a door of hope : and she shall sing there, as in the days
of her youth, and as in the day when she came up out of
the land of Egypt." " I will allure her," that is, I will
court or woo ber again, as a young man woos a virgin,
whom he desires to make his wife. God, for her com
mitting adultery with other lovers, had threatened that he
would give her a bill of divorce, as verse second. " Plead
with your mother, plead ; for she is not my wife, neither
am I her husband." But here in the latter part of the
chapter, God promises that in gospel times he would make
her his wife again, as in the sixteenth verse. " And it
shall be at that day that thou shalt call me Ishi ;" that is,
"my husband." And so in verses 19, 20. "And I will
betroth thee unto me for ever; yea, I will betroth thee
unto me for ever in righteousness, and in judgment, in
loving-kindness, and in mercies ; I will even betroth thee
unto me in faithfulness." Here in the fourteenth verse,
God promises that he will woo her, and in the latter part
* September, 1737.

of the verse, he shows in what manner he will deal with
her when he is about to woo or allure her. He would
first bring her into the wilderness ; that is, he would bring
her into trouble and distress, and so humble her, and then
allure her by speaking comfortably or pleasantly to her, as
a young man does to a maid whom he woos. Then follow
the words of the text.
1. We may observe what God would give to the chil
dren of Israel ; viz. hope and comfort. He promises to
give her vineyards ; which being spiritually interpreted as
most of the prophecies of gospel times are to be inter
preted, signifies spiritual comforts. Vineyards afford wine,
which is comfort to those who are of heavy hearts. Prov.
xxxi. 6. " Give wine to those that are of heavy hearts."
Wine is to make glad the heart of man. Psalm civ. 15.
Gospel rest and peace are sometimes prophesied of, under
the metaphor of every man's sitting under his vine and
under his own fig-tree. God promises to give her hope,
to open a door of hope for her, and to give her songs ; that
is, to give her spiritual joy, and both cause and disposition
joyfully to sing praises to God.
2. We may observe after what manner God would be
stow those benefits. 1. They should be given after great
trouble and abasement. Before she had this hope and
comfort given, she should be brought into great trouble
and distress to humble her. He promises to give her her
vineyards from thence ; that is, from the wilderness spoken
of in the foregoing verse, into which it is said that God
would bring her, before he spoke comfortably to her. God
would bring her into the wilderness, and then give her
vineyards. God's bringing her into the wilderness was to
humble her, and fit her to receive vineyards, and to make
her see her dependence on God for them, that she might
not attribute her enjoyment of them to her idols, as she
had done before, for which reason God took them away,
as in the twelfth verse. "And I will destroy her vines
and her fig-trees, whereof she hath said, These" are my re
wards that my lovers have given me ; and I will make
them a forest." There it is threatened that God will turn
her vineyards into a forest, or wilderness. Here it is pro
mised that he would turn the wilderness into vineyards,
as Isaiah xxxii. 15. " Until the Spirit be poured on us
from on high, and the wilderness be a fruitful field, and
the fruitful field be counted for a forest." She should
first be in a wilderness-, where she shall see that she can
not help herself, nor any of her idols help, or give her anv
vineyards. And then God will help her, that she shall
see that it is God, and not any of her idols or lovers. God

SERMON III.

839

would first bring her into a wilderness, and thence give
her vineyards, as God first brought the children of Israel
into a dreadful wilderness. So God opened a door of
hope to them in the valley of Achor, which is a word that
signifies trouble, and was so called from the trouble which
the children of Israel suffered by the sin of Achor. So
God is wont first to make their sin a great trouble to
them, an occasion of a great deal of distress, before he
opens a door of hope. God promises lo make her sing
there as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when
she came up out of the land of Egypt. This plainly re
fers to the joyful song which Moses and the children of
Israel sang when they came up out of the Red sea. The
children of Israel there had great joy and comfort ; but
just before they had great trouble. They had been in ex
treme distress by the oppression of their task-masters ; and
just before this triumphant song, they were brought to ex
tremity and almost to despair, when Pharaoh and the
Egyptians appeared ready to swallow them up.
2. This hope and comfort should be bestowed on the
slaying and forsaking of sin. That is the troubler of the
soiil. It should be given in the valley of Achor, which
was the valley where the troubler of Israel was slain, as
you may see in Joshua vii. 26.; and the place where the
children of Israel sang, when they came up out of the
land of Egypt. The eastern shore of the Red sea was
the place where they saw their enemies and old task
masters, the types of men's lusts, which are sinners' task
masters, lie dead on the sea-shore, and of whom they took
their final leave. And God had told them, that their ene
mies whom they had seen that day, they should see no
more for ever.
Doctrine. God is wont to cause hope and comfort to
arise in the soul after trouble and humbling for sin, and
according as the troubler is slain and forsaken. I would
show, I. That it is thus with respect to the first true hope and
comfort which is given to the soul at conversion.
II. That God is wont to bestow hope and comfort on
Christians from time to time in this way.
I. God is wont to cause hope and comfort to arise to the
soul in conversion after trouble and humbling for sin, and
upon the slaying of the troubler.
1. It is God's manner to bestow hope and comfort
on a soul in conversion after trouble and humbling for
sin. Under this head are three things to be observed. 1.
The trouble itself. 2. The cause, viz. sin. 3. The
humbling. 1. Souls are wont to be brought into trouble before God
bestows true hope and comfort. The corrupt hearts of
men naturally incline to stupidity and senselessness before
God comes with the awakening influences of his Spirit.
They are quiet and secure ; they have no true comfort and
hope, and yet they are quiet ; they are at ease. They are
in miserable slavery, and yet seek not a remedy. They
say, as the children of Israel did in Egypt to Moses, " let
us alone, that we may serve the Egyptians." But if God
has a design of mercy to them, it is his manner before he
bestows true hope and comfort on them, to bring them
into trouble, to distress them, and spoil their ease and false
quietness, and to rouse them out of their old resting and
sleeping places, and to bring them into a wilderness. They
are brought into trouble, and sometimes into exceedingly
great trouble and distress, so that they can take no com
fort in those things in which they used to take comfort.
Their hearts are pinched and stung, and they can find no
ease in any thing. They have, as it were, an arrow
sticking fast in them, which causes grievous and con
tinual pain, an arrow which they cannot shake off, or
pull out. The pain and anguish of it drinks up their
spirit. Their worldly enjoyments were a sufficient good
before ; but they are not now. They wander about with
wounded hearts, seeking rest, and finding none ; like one
wandering in a dry and parched wilderness under the
burning, scorching heat of the sun, seeking for some shadow
where he may sit down and rest, but finding none.
Wherever he goes the beams of the sun scorch him : or
he seeks some fountain of cool water to quench his thirst,
but finds not a drop. He is like David in his trouble,
who wandered about in the wilderness, Saul pursuing him

wherever he went, driving and hunting him from one wil
derness to another, from one mountain to another, and
from one cave to another, giving him no rest. To such
sinners, all things look dark, and they know not what to
do, nor whither to turn. If ihey look forward or back
ward, to the right hand or the left, all is gloom and per
plexity. If they look to heaven, behold darkness ; if they
iook to the earth, behold trouble, and darkness, and dim
ness ofanguish. Sometimes they hope for relief, but they
are disappointed, and so again and again they travail in
pain, and a dreadful sound is in their ears. They are ter
rified and affrighted, and they seek refuge, as a poor crea
ture pursued by an enemy. He flies to one refuge and
there is beset, and that fails ; then he flies to another, and
then is driven out of that. And his enemies grow thicker
and thicker about, encompassing him on every side. They
are like those of whom we read in Isa. xxiv. 17, 18. Fear,
and the pit, and the snare are upon them, and when they
flee from the noise of the fear they are taken in the pit ;
and if they come up out of the pit, they are taken in the
snare. So that they know not what to do. They are like
the children of Israel, while Achor troubled them. They
go forth against their enemies, and they are smitten down
and flee before them. They call on God, but he does not
answer, nor seem to regard them. Sometimes they find
something in which they take pleasure for a little time,
but it soon vanishes away, and leaves them in greater
distress than before. And sometimes they are brought
to the very borders of despair. Thus they are brought
into the wilderness, and into the valley of Achor, or of
trouble. 2. Sin is the trouble or the cause of this trouble. Sin is
the disease of the soul, and such a disease as will, if the
soul is' not benumbed, cause exceeding pain. Sin brings
guilt, and that brings condemnation and wrath. All this
trouble arises from conviction of sin. Awakened sinners
are convinced that they are sinful. Before the sinner
thought well of himself, or was not convinced that he was
very sinful. But now he is led to reflect first on what he
has done, how wickedly he has spent his time, what
wicked acts or practices he has been guilty of. And
afterwards in the progress of his awakenings he is made
sensible of something of the sin and plague of his heart.
They are made sensible of the guilt and wrath which sin
brings. The threatenings of God's law are set home, and
they are made sensible that God is angry, and that his
wrath is dreadful. They are led to consider of the dread
fulness of that punishment, which God has threatened.
The affection or principle, which is wrought upon to cause
this trouble, is fear. They are afraid of the punishment of
sin, and God's wrath for it. They are commonly afraid of
many things here in this world as the fruit of sin. They
are afraid that God will not hear their prayers, that he is so
angry with them, that he will never give them converting
grace. They are afraid oftentimes that they have com
mitted the unpardonable sin, or at least that they have been
guilty of such sin as God will never pardon ; that their
day is past, and that God has given them up to judicial
hardness of heart and blindness of mind. Or if they are
not already, they are afraid they shall be. They are afraid
oftentimes, that the Spirit of God is not striving with them
now, that their fears are from some other cause. Some
times they are afraid that it is only the devil, who terrifies
and afflicts them ; and that if the Spirit of God is striving
with them, he will be taken from them, and they shall be
left in a Christless state. They are afraid that if they seek
salvation, it will be to no purpose, and that they shall only
make their case worse and worse ; that they are farther
and farther from any thing which is good, and that there is
less probability now of their being converted, than when
they began to seek. Sometimes they fear, that they have
but a short time to live, and that God will soon cast them
to hell ; that none ever were as they are, who ever found
mercy ; that their case is peculiar, and that all wherein
they differ from others is for the worse. They have fears
on every side. Oftentimes they are afraid of every thing.
Every thing looks dark, and they are afraid that every
thing will prove ruinous to them. But in the issue of ail
they are afraid they shall perish for ever. They are afraid
that when they die they shall go down to hell, and there

840

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

have their portion appointed them in everlasting burnings.
This is the sum of all their fears. And the cause of this
fear is a consciousness of the guilt of sin. It is sin, which
is the cruel task-master, which oppresses them, and chas
tises them ; and sin is the cruel Pharaoh, which pursues
them. As the children of Israel, before they came to sing
with joy after they came out of the land of Egypt, were
under great trouble from their task-masters, and sighed by
reason of the hard bondage, and then were pursued, and
put into dreadful fear at the Red sea. It was their task
masters who made them all this trouble. So it is sin which
makes all the trouble which a sinner suffers under awak
enings. Their trouble for sin is no gracious, godly sor
row for sin ; for that does not arise merely from fear, but
from love. It is not an evangelical, but legal, repentance
of which we are speaking, which is not from love to God,
but only self love.
3. The end of this trouble in those to whom God de
signs mercy is to humble them. Cod leads them into the
wilderness before he speaks comfortably to them, for the
same cause that he led the children of Israel into the wil
derness before he brought them into Canaan, which we are
told was to humble them. Deut. viii. 2. "And thou shalt
remember all the way, which the Lord thy God led thee
these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to
prove thee, and to know what was in thine heart." Man
naturally trusts in himself, and magnifies himself. And
for man to enjoy only ease and prosperity and quietness
tends to nourish and establish such a disposition. Deut.
xxxii. 15. " Jeshurun waxed fat, and kicked." But by
trouble and distress, and by a sense of a heavy load of
guilt, God brings men down into the dust. God brings
souls thus into the wilderness to show them their own help
lessness, to let them see that they have nothing to which
they can turn for help, to make them sensible that they are
not rich and increased with goods, but wretched, miser
able, poor, blind, and naked ; to show them that they are
utterly undone and ruined, to make them sensible of their
exceeding wickedness, and to bring them to be sensible
how justly God might cast them off for ever. Those legal
troubles tend to show them their utter inability to help
themselves, as their fears put them on using tlieir utmost
endeavours, and trying their utmost strength ; and by
continuing in that way their experience teaches them their
weakness, and they find they can do nothing. It puts them
upon repeated trials, and they have as repeated disappoint
ments. But repeated disappointments tend to bring a man
to give up the case, and to despair of help in that way in
which he has tried for it. It tends to make men sensible
of the utter insufficiency of their wisdom, and bring them
to see their own exceeding blindness and ignorance. For
fear, and concern, and distress, necessarily put a person
on intensely thinking, and studying, and contriving for
relief. But when men have been thus trying their own
wisdom and invention to their utmost, and find it fails,
and signifies nothing, and is altogether to no purpose, it
makes them more and more sensible of their weakness
and blindness, and brings them to confess themselves fools,
and blind, as to those things which concern their relief.
They are like one who is placed in the midst of a vast
hideous wilderness. At first it may be he may not be sensi
ble but that he knows the way home, and can directly go in
the way which leads out of the wilderness. But after he
has tried and has travelled awhile, and finds that he can
not find the way, and that he spends himself in vain, and
only goes round and round, and comes to the same place
again at last, he is brought to confess that he knows not
where to go, nor what to do, and that he is sensible that
he is like one who is perfectly lost, and altogether in dark
ness, and is brought at last to yield the case and stand
still, and do nothing but call for help, that if possible any
one may hear, and lead him in the wilderness.' For this
end God leads men into the wilderness before he speaks
comfortably to them. The troubles which they have for
sin tend to bring them to be sensible how justly God may
cast them off for ever ; and this brings them to reflect on
their sins ; for these are the things of which they are afraid.
When a man is terribly afraid of things with which he is
surrounded, this engages his eyes to behold ; he looks in
tensely on them, and sees more and more how frightful

and terrible they are. When they are in fear, they take
much more notice of their sius than at other times. They
think more how wickedly they have lived, and observe
more the corrupt and wicked working of their own hearts,
and so are more and more sensible what vile creatures
thev are. This makes them more and more sensible how
angry God is, and how terrible his anger is. They try to
appease and to reconcile God by their own righteousness,
but it fails. God still appears as an angry God, refusing
to hear their prayers, or appear for their help, till they
despair in their own righteousness, and yield the case;
and by more and more of a sight of themselves are brought
to confess that they lie justly exposed to damnation, and
have nothing by which to defend themselves. God ap
pears more and more as a terrible being to them, till they
have done with any imaginations, that they have any thing
sufficient to recommend them, or reconcile them to such a
God. Thus God is wont first to bring the soul into
trouble by reason of sin, and so to humble the soul, before
he gives true hope and comfort in conversion.
2. This hope and comfort are given upon the slaying of
the troubler. Whatever troubles there are for sin, yet if
the troubler is not slain, it cannot be expected but that
there will be trouble still. Before there will be no true
comfort. The soul may return to stupidity and careless
ness, and may receive a false peace and hope, and sin be
kept alive ; but no true hope. Persons may be exceedingly
troubled for sin, and yet sin be saved alive. Persons may
seem to lament they have done thus and thus, and weep
many tears, and cry out of their sinfulness and wicked
ness, and yet the life of sin be whole in them. But if so,
they never shall receive true comfort. They may refrain
from sin ; there may be a great reformation, and exact life
for a time ; or there may be a total reformation of some
particular ways of sin, and yet no true hope ; because sin
is only restrained ; it is not slain. Many men are brought
to restrain sin, and to give it slight wounds, who cannot
be brought to kill it. Wicked men are loth to kill sin.
They have been very good friends to it ever since they
have been in the world, and have always treated it as one
of their most familiar and best friends. They have allow
ed it the best room in their hearts, and have given it the
best entertainment they could, and they are very loth to
destroy it. But until this be done, God never will give
them true comfort. If ever men come to have a true hope,
they must do as the children of Israel did by Achan.
Joshua vii. 24, 25, 26. " And Joshua and all Israel with
him took Achan, the son of Zerah, and the silver and the
garment, and the wedge of gold, and his sons and his
daughters, and his oxen, and his asses, and his sheep, and
his tent, and all that he had ; and they brought them unto
the valley of Achor. And Joshua said, Why hast thou
troubled us? The Lord shall trouble thee this day. And
all Israel stoned him with stones, and burned them with
fire after they had stoned them with stones. And they
raised over him a great heap of stones unto this day. So
the Lord .turned from the fierceness of his anger. Where
fore the name of that place was called the valley of Achor
unto this day." So if ever men come to have any true
hope, they must take sin which is the troubler, and all
which belongs to it, even that which seems most dear and
precious, though it be as choice as Achan's silver and
wedge of gold, and utterly destroy them, and burn them
with fire, to be sure to make a thorough end of them, as it
were, bury them and raise over them a great heap of stones,
to lay a great weight upon them, to make sure of it that
they shall never rise more. Yea, and thus they must serve
all his sons and daughters. They must not save some of
the accursed brood alive. All the fruits of sin must be
forsaken. There must not be some particular lust, some
dear sinful enjoyment, some pleasant child of sin, spared ;
but all must be stoned and burned. If we do thus, we
may expect to have trouble cease, and light to arise, as it
was in the camp of Israel after slaying the troubler.
Inquiry. Here it may be inquired, What is implied in
slaying sin at conversion ? And it implies these several
things :
1. There must be a conviction of the evil of it as against
God. All is carried on by conviction. Those legal troubles,
which are before conversion, arise from some conviction of

SERMON III.

841

the being of sin, and the guilt and danger of it. And the
slaying of sin is by conviction of its evil and hateful nature.
To slay the troubler, we must find him out, as the children
of Israel did before they slew Achan. They rose early in
the morning, and searched, and brought all Israel by their
tribes ; and (hen searched the tribe, which was taken by
families, and the family by particular persons, and so found
him. 2. It is to have the heart turned from, and turned against,
it in hatred. The troubler is never slain, but by a thorough
and saving change of heart and renovation of nature, so
that that which before loved sin and chose it, may now
hate and abhor it, and may disrelish it, and all its ways,
and especially hate their former ways of sin.
3. Forsaking and renouncing it. Let men pretend what
they may, their hearts are not turned from sin, if they do
not forsake it. He is not converted, who is not really come
to a disposition utterly to forsake all ways of sin. If ever
sinners have true hope and comfort, thev must take a final
leave of sin, as the children of Israel did ofthe Egyptians
at the Red sea. Persons may have a great deal of trouble
from sin, and many conflicts and struggles with it, and
seem to forsake it for a time, and yet not forsake it finally ;
as the children of Israel had with the Egyptians. They
had a long struggle with them before they were freed from
them. How many judgments did God bring upon the
Egyptians, before they would let them go ? And some
times Pharaoh seemed as if he would let them go; but
yet when it came to the proof he refused. And when
they departed from Rameses doubtless they thought then
they had got rid of them. They did not expect to see them
any more. But when they arrived at the Red sea, and
looked behind them, they saw them pursuing them. They
found it a difficult thing wholly to get rid of them. But
when they were drowned in the Red sea, then they took
an everlasting leave of them. The king and all the chiefs
of them were dead ; and therefore God said to them, Exod.
xiv. 13. " The Egyptians, whom ye have seen to-day, ye
shall see them again no more for ever." So sinners must
not only part with sin for a little time, but they must for
sake it for ever, and be willing never to see or have any
thing to do with their old sinful ways and enjoyments.
They must forsake that which is their iniquity, the sin
which most easily besets them, and to which by their con
stitution or custom they have been most addicted, which
has been, as it were, the dearest of all, and most respected,
as a king among the army of sins ; though that must be
slain too, as Pharaoh, the king of the Egyptians, was in
the Red sea. And we must not do as Saul did, when
God sent him to kill the Amalekites ; but he saved the king
of the Amalekites alive, which cost him his kingdom.
4. It implies embracing Christ, and trusting in him as
the Saviour from sin." We must look to him not only as
a Saviour from the punishment of sin, but we must receive
and embrace him as a Saviour from sin itself. We cannot
deliver ourselves from sin. We cannot slay this enemy of
ourselves. He is too strong an enemy for us. We can no
more slay sin ourselves, than the children of Israel, who
were themselves a poor feeble company, a mixed multitude,
unprepared to resist such a force, could themselves slay
Pharaoh, and all his mighty army with chariots and horse
men. It was Christ in the pillar of cloud and fire, who
fought for them. They had nothing to do but trust in him.
Exod. xiv. 4. " The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall
hold your peace." They could never have drowned the
Egyptians in the sea. It was Christ who did it ; for the
pillar of cloud stood between them and the Israelites, and
when they were up out of the sea, then Christ brought on
them the waters of the sea. Our enemies must be drowned
in the all-sufficient fountain, and, as it were, sea of Christ's
blood, as the Egyptians were in the Red sea, and then we
may sing, as the" children of Israel did in the day when
they came up out of the land of Egypt. When sin is
thus slain, then God is wont to open a door of hope, a
door through which there flashes a sweet light out of
heaven upon the soul. Then comfort arises, and then is
there a new song in the mouth, even praise unto God.
IT. God is wont to bestow hope and comfort from time
to time in the same manner on Christians.
In the consideration of this matter I would show,

1 . That Christians are frequently in darkness, and their
hope is often greatly obscured.
2. That it is sin which is the occasion of this darkness.
3. Their darkness is not perpetual, but God is wont to
cause hope and comfort to arise again.
4. Their trouble is commonly much increased a little
before the renewal of light and hope.
5. That hope and comfort are renewed to them on the
slaying of the troubler.
1. It is often the case that Christians are under darkness,
and their hope is greatly clouded. God is wont to give his
saints hope and comfort at their first conversion, which
sometimes remains without any great interruption for a
considerable time. And some Christians live abundantly
more in the light than others. Some for many years
together have but little darkness. God is pleased to dis
tinguish them from their neighbours. He mercifully keeps
them from those occasions of darkness, into which he
suffers others to fall, and gives them of the light of his
countenance. God exercises his sovereignty in this matter,
as he does in giving converting grace : as he bestows that
on whom he pleases, so he bestows on some of those who
are converted more light, on others less, according as it
pleases him. But many Christians meet with a great deal
of darkness, and see times in which their hopes are much
clouded. Sometimes the sweet and comfortable influences
of God's Spirit are withdrawn. They were wont to have
spiritual discoveries made of God and Christ to their souls,
but now they have none. Their minds seem to be dark
ened, and they cannot see spiritual things, as they have
done in times past. Formerly, when they read the Scrip
tures, they used often to have light come in, and they
seemed to" have an understanding and relish for what they
read, and were filled with- comfort. But now when they
read, it is all a dead letter, and they have no taste for it,
and are obliged to force themselves to read ; they seem to
have no pleasure in it, but it is a mere task and burden.
Formerly they used to have passages of Scripture come to
their minds, when they were not reading, which brought
much light and sweetness witb them. But now they have
none. Formerly they used to feel the sweet exercises of
grace. They could trust in God, and could find a spirit of
resignation to his will, and had love drawn forth, and sweet
longings after God and Christ, and a sweet complacence
in God; but now they are dull and dead. Formerly they
used to meet with Goo in the ordinances of bis house : it
was sweet to sit and hear the word preached, and it seemed
to bring light and life with it ; they used to feel life and
sweetness in public prayers, and their hearts were elevated
in singing God's praises. But now it is otherwise.
Formerly they used to delight in the duty of prayer : the
time which they spent in their closet between God and
their own souls was sweet to them. But now when they
go thither, they do not meet God ; and they take no delight
in drawing near to God in their closets. When they do
pray, it seems to be a mere lifeless, heartless performance.
They utter such and such words, but they seem to be
nothing but words ; their hearts are not engaged. Their
minds are continually wandering and going to and fro, after
one vanity and another. With this decay of the exercise
of grace their hope greatly decays ; and the evidences of
their piety are exceedingly clouded. When they look into
their hearts, it seems to them that they can see nothing
there, from which they should hope ; and when they con
sider after what manner they live, it seems to them to argue,
that they have no grace. They have but little of any thing
which is new, to furnish comfortable evidence to them of
their good estate ; and as to their old evidences, they are
greatly darkened. Their former experience, in which they
took great comfort, looks dim, and a great way off, and out
of sight to them. They have almost forgotten it, and have
no pleasure in thinking or speaking of it. And sometimes
true Christians are brought into terrible distress. They
are not only deprived of their former comforts, and have
their former hopes obscured, but they have inward distress
ing darkness. God does not only hide his face, but they
have a sense of his anger. He seems to frown upon them.
So it appears to have been with David. Ps. xln. 7.
" Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts ;
all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me." - " -' !

So with

842

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

Heman. Ps. lxxxviii. 6, 7. " Thou hast laid me in the
lowest pit, in darkness, in the deeps. Thy wrath Heth
hard upon me, and thou hast afflicted me with all thy
waves." 2. It is sin which is the occasion of this trouble and
darkness. Whenever the godly meet with such darkness,
there is some Achan in their souls which is the occasion
of all this ; and this is sin. This is the occasion of the
darkness of the godly, as well as the troubles which natural
men have under awakenings. It is not for want of love
in God towards his saints, or readiness to grant comfort to
them ; neither is God's hand shortened, thatit cannot save,
nor his ear heavy, that he cannot hear. It is their sin
which hides God's face from them. Isa. lix. 1, 2. Sin is
the occasion of this darkness of the saints, in these three
ways. 1. Sometimes it is owing to the weakness and small
degree of grace infused in conversion, and the strength of
remaining corruption. The work of God is the same in
all who are converted, so far that their sin is mortified, and
that which reigned before does not reign now. The heart
is changed from darkness to light, and from death to life,
and turned from sin to God. And yet the work is very
different with respect to the degree of mortification of sin,
and the degree of grace which is infused. Some have
more spiritual light given in their first conversion than
others ; have greater discoveries, and are brought at once
to a much greater acquaintance with God, and have their
hearts more humbled, and more weaned from sin and the
world, and more filled with the love of God and Christ,
and are brought nearer to heaven than others. Some at
first conversion have a much more eminent work of grace
in their hearts than others. Some have emphatically but
little grace infused, and consequently their corruptions are
left in much greater strength : when it is so, it is no wonder
that such have a weaker hope, and less light and comfort,
than others. The natural tendency of indwelling sin in
the saints, is to cloud and darken the mind ; and therefore,
the more of it remains, the more will it have this effect.
Persons can know their own good estate in no other way
than by seeking, or perceiving grace in their hearts. But
certainly the less of it there is, with the more difficulty
will it be seen or felt. As indwelling sin prevails, so does
it the more obscure and cloud grace, as a great smoke
clouds and hides a spark. And therefore the more there
is of this indwelling sin, the more will grace be hid.
The greater the strength in which corruption is left, the
more rare will be the good frames which the godly have,
and the more frequent and of longer continuance will be
their times of darkness. It may be, the darkness with
which the saints meet, is from some particular corruption,
which has always hitherto been in too great prevalence and
strength, and has never yet been mortified to such a degree,
but that it continues a great troubler in the soul. Grace
being weak, the sin of the constitution takes advantage,
whether that be a proud and haughty temper, or a covetous
spirit, or an addictedness to some sensuality, or a peevish,
fretful, discontented spirit, or ill temper, or a quarrelsome
spirit, or disposition to high resentment. Or whether it be
any other corrupt disposition, which is the sin to which
they are chiefly exposed by natural temper, or by their
education and former custom. If the grace which is in
fused at conversion, be comparatively weak, this constitu
tional sin will take the advantage, and will dreadfully
cloud the mind, and hinder spiritual comfort, and bring
trouble and darkness. There is a great variety in the
work of grace upon men's hearts, as to the particular dis
coveries which are then given, and the particular graces
which are in chief exercise; whereby it comes to pass,
that some in their conversion are more assisted against one
corruption and others against another. Some in their con
version, as well as in the manner of their experience from
time to time, have more of the exercise of one grace, and
others more sensible exercises of another. And whatever
that grace be of which they have the most lively exercises,
they are thereby most assisted against that particular cor
ruption which is its opposite. Hence some particular
corruptions may be left in much greater prevalence than
others, and so be a greater occasion of darkness. Thus
some, in the particular experiences which they have, may

not be so especially assisted against pride as others, where
by their pride may take occasion to work. And when
thev have had spiritual discoveries and comfort, they may
be lifted up with them. And this may be an occasion of
displeasing and grieving his Holy Spirit, and so of their
having a great deal of darkness. • They may not have seen
so much of their own emptiness as some others, and so
their corruption may work much more by self-confidence
than others ; and no wonder that self-confident persons
meet with darkness. No wonder that when men trust in
themselves for light and grace, that their confidence fails,
and they go without that for which they trusted in them
selves. 2. Sometimes the saints are in great darkness on occa
sion of some gross transgression into which they have
fallen. So it was with David, when he fell into gross
sin in the matter of Uriah. He exceedingly quenched the
influences of the Spirit of God by it, and God withdrew
those influences from him, and the comforts which they
had imparted ; as appears by his earnestly praying for their
restoration. Psal. li. 12. " Restore unto me the joy of thy
salvation, and uphold me with thy free Spirit." When
Christians fall into gross transgression, it is commonly the
fact that an exceedingly deep darkness follows.
3. When they do not fall into any particular gross and
scandalous transgression, yet they sometimes exceedingly
darken their minds by corrupt frames and evil habits, into
which they fall. There is much remaining corruption in
the hearts of Christians, and oftentimes they get into very
ill frames. Some particular corruptions grow very preva
lent. Sometimes they grow proud and conceited of them
selves, either on account of their own godliness, and the
good opinion others have of them, or on some other ac
count. Sometimes they fall into a worldly frame, and
spiritual things grow more tasteless to them, and their
hearts are desperately bent on the acquisition of worldly
good. Sometimes their minds grow light and vain,
and their affections are wholly fixed on the vanities of
youth, on dress, and gaiety, and fashion. Some, because
their minds are not occupied as once they were, with spi
ritual enjoyments and delights, sweetly meditating on
heavenly things, breathing and longing after them, and
earnestly seeking them, become the slaves of their sensual
appetites. Others grow contentious and quarrelsome,
are often angry with those around them,and cherish habitual
rancour against them in their hearts. They become wilful
and obstinate, and stir up strife, and oppose others with
vehemence ; determining at all hazards to carry their own
measures, and delighting to have those who oppose them
defeated and humbled. It hurts them to have others
prosper. Their minds and hearts are full of turmoil, and
heat, and vehemence against one and another. Others fall
into a discontented, fretful, and impatient frame at the dis
posals of Providence. And oftentimes many of these
thing, go together. And as these persons sink into such
unhappy frames in their hearts, so they pursue very sinful
courses of conduct. They behave themselves unsuitably,
so as to dishonour God, and greatly to wound religion.
They do not appear to others to savour of a good spirit.
They fall into the practice of allowing themselves too
great liberties in indulging their sensual appetites, in the
gratification of covetousness and pride, in strife, backbiting,
and a violent pursuit after the world. They slide into
those corrupt frames and evil ways commonly by means of
their first giving way to a slothful spirit. They are not so
diligent and earnest in religion as they once were ; but
indulge their slothful disposition, and discontinue their
watch, and so lie open to temptation. Thus ill frames
imperceptibly creep upon them, and they insensibly more
and more fall into sinful practices. So it was with David.
Their sin, into which they fall in consequence of this de
generate and sinful state of the affections and the life, is
the occasion of a great deal of darkness. God withdraws
his Spirit from them, their light goes out, and the evidences
of their piety grow dim and obscure. They seem to be
in a great measure as they were before they were con
verted, and they have no sensible communion with God.
Thus sin is the occasion of trouble and darkness to the
Christian. 4. When it is thus with Christians, their trouble is com-

SERMON III.

843

monly greatly increased a little before the renewal of hope
and comfort. When sin prevails, as has been said, in the
hearts of Christians, they are not wont to be easy and
quiet like secure sinners. There is commonly more or less
of an inward struggling and uneasiness. Grace in the
heart, though it be dreadfully oppressed, and, as it were,
overwhelmed, yet will be resisting its enemy and struggling
for liberty. So that it is not with Christians in their ill
frames, and under the prevalence of corruption, altogether
as it is with carnal, wicked men, who are secure. And
there is this good reason for it, that the former have a
principle of spiritual life in their souls, which the latter
have not. Yet Christians in their ill frames may fall into
a great deal of security and senselessness ; for sin is of a
stupifying nature, and wherever it prevails, will have more
or less of that effect. When they fall into a sinful, worldly,
proud, or contentious frame, they are wont to have a great
degree of senselessness and stupidity with it. And espe
cially when they fall into gross sins, has it a tendency
greatly to stupify the soul. It obviously had this effect on
David. He seems to have been strangely stupified, when
Nathan came to him with the parable of the rich man,
who injuriously took the poor man's ewe lamb from him.
He was enraged with the man in the parable, but did
not seem to reflect on himself, or think how parallel his
case was with his. And while they are thus senseless,
their trouble is not so great ; and if they feel the weight
of sin it is not so burdensome to them. But God is wont,
before he renews comfort and hope to them, to bring them
into greater trouble. As a sinner before his first comfort
in his conversion is brought into trouble, so it is wont to
be with the saints after their backslidings and decays, be
fore renewed hope and comfort is granted . There is a work
of awakening wrought upon them. While they remain in
their corrupt frames, they are, as it were, asleep. They
are like the ten foolish virgins who slumbered and slept ;
and as persons who are asieep, they are unconscious, not
sensible where they are, nor what are their circumstances.
Therefore when God is coming and returning to them by
his Spirit, commonly his first work upon them is a work
of awakening, to wake them out of sleep, and rouse them
to some sensibility, to make them sensible of the great
folly of their ways, and how they have displeased and of
fended God, and what mischief they have done. Thus
God leads them into the wilderness, and brings them into
the valley of Achor or trouble. Then they are in greater
trouble than they were before, and have more sensible
darkness, and more distress abundantly. But yet it is
really much better with them now, than before they began
to come to themselves. Their circumstances are much
more eligible and more hopeful, though sometimes they
are in distress almost insupportable. And a little before
God renews light and comfort, they have a very great
sense of God's anger, and his wrath lies heavy upon them.
So it seems to have been with David a little before the re
storation of spiritual comfort to him, which made him
speak of the bones which God had broken, when he was
praying for the renewal of comfort. Psal. li. 8. "Make
me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which thou hast
broken may rejoice." And probably he has respect to the
same thing in Psal. xxxviii. which he calls his psalm to
bring to remembrance. Ver. 2, 3, 4. " Thine arrows stick
fast in me, and thy hand pressed, me sore. There is no
soundness in my flesh, because of thine anger ; neither is
there any rest in my bones, because of my sin. For mine
iniquities are gone over mine head ; as an heavy burden
they are too heavy for me." And often when God is
about to bring them to themselves, and to restore comfort
to them, he first brings them into some very great and sore
temporal calamity and trouble, and awakens them by that,
and in this first brings them into the wilderness before he
speaks comfortably to them. Job xxxiii. 16, &c. "Then
he openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their instruction,
that he may withdraw man from his purpose, and hide
pride from man. He keepeth back his soul from the pit,
and his life from perishing by the sword. He is chastened
also with pain upon his bed, and the multitude of his
bones with strong pain ; so that his life abhorreth bread,
and his soul dainty meat. His flesh is consumed away,
that it cannot be seen ; and his boneSj that were not seen,

stick out. Yea, his soul draweth near unto the grave, and
his life to the destroyers. If there be a messenger with
him, an interpreter, one among a thousand, to show unto
man his uprightness, then he is gracious unto him, and
saith, Deliver him from going down to the pit ; I have
found a ransom. His flesh shall be fresher than a child's ;
he shall return to the days of his youth. He shall pray
unto God, and he shall be favourable unto him, and he
shall see his face with joy ; for he will render unto man
his righteousness. He looketh upon men, and if any say,
I have sinned, and perverted that which was right, and it
profited me not, he will deliver his soul from going into
the pit, and his life shall see the light. Lo, all these
things worketh God oftentimes with man, to bring back
his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of
the living." Thus those who are very weak in grace
sometimes meet with great and sore trouble, both of
body and mind, which is an occasion of a new work,
as it were, of grace upon their hearts ; so that they are
more eminent saints afterwards, and have much more
comfort. 3. When the saints are in darkness, their darkness is not
perpetual, but God will restore hope and comfort to them
again. When one of Christ's sheep wanders away, and
gets into the wilderness, Christ the good Shepherd will
not leave him in the wilderness, but will seek him, and
will lay him on his shoulders, and bring him home again.
We cannot tell how long God may leave his saints in the
dark, but yet surely their darkness shall not last for ever ;
for light is sown to the righteous, and gladness to the up
right in heart. Psal. xcvii. 11. God, in the covenant of
grace in which they have an interest, has promised them
joy and comfort ; he has promised them everlasting joy.
Isa. lxi. 7. Satan may be suffered for a time to bring
them into darkness, but they shall be brought out again.
God may be provoked to hide his face from them for a
time ; and if it seems long, yet it is indeed but a little
time. Isa. liv. 7, 8. "For a small moment have I for
saken thee ; but with great mercies will I gather thee. In
a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment ; but
with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee."
Psal. xxx. 5. " Weeping may endure for a night, but joy
cometh in the morning."
5 . Hope and comfort are renewed to them on the slay
ing of the troubler. All sin is truly mortified in conver
sion, or has its death-wounds then. And all the exercises
of it afterwards are, in some respects, as the efforts and
stragglings of a dying enemy. But yet all life is not actu
ally extinct, and therefore it needs to be further mortified,
to receive more deadly wounds. Sin is slain in the godly
after trouble and darkness, and before the renewing of
comfort, in these three ways.
1 . It is slain as to former degrees of it. All remains
of corruption are not extirpated. Sin does not cease to
be in the heart ; but it ceases to be any more in such
strength as it has been ; it ceases to have that prevalence.
2. It is slain as to former ways of exercise. The former
ways of sin are forsaken. They are further afterwards
from such ways of sin than ever before. The heart is for
tified against them. Thus if a godly man has been in a way
of contention and strife, when he comes to himself again,
he slays his contention ; he kills sin as to that way of ex
ercising it. Or if it be some way of sensuality, when he
comes to himself, he will slay his sensuality, and cast it
out from him.
3. It is totally and perfectly slain in his will and incli
nation. There is that renewed opposition made against it, which
implies a mortal inclination and design against it. What
the saint seeks when he comes to himself after a time of
great declension, is to be the death of sin, which has been
so prevalent in bim, and perfectly to extirpate it. He acts
in what he does as a mortal enemy ; and if he does not
perfectly destroy it at one blow, it is not for want of incli
nation, but for want of strength. The godly man does not
deal mercifully and tenderly with sin, but as far as in him
lies, he deals with it as the children of Israel dealt with
Achan, as it were, stones it with stones, and bums it with
fire with all which belongs to it. They do not at all spare
it, as wicked men do ; they aim at the very life, and no-

844

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

thing short of it. The saints' slaying the troubler after
great backslidings and ill frames, implies the following
things. 1. There is a conviction of the evil of their sin. They
are brought to consideration. They think on their ways
before they turn their feet. Psal. cxix. 59. They consider
how they have behaved themselves, how unworthily, how
unfaithful they have been to their profession, how ungrate
fully, and disagreeably to the mercies they have received.
They consider how they have provoked God, and have
deserved his wrath. They find the troubler led them to
see a great deal more of the sinfulness and corruption of
their hearts commonly than before. In this respect the
work of God with saints after great declinings is agreeable
to his work in the heart of a natural man in order to his
conversion. 2. Tliere is a gracious humiliation of soul before God
for it. The gracious soul, when convinced of sin after
great declensions, and recovered out of them, is deeply
humbled ; for it is brought to the dust before God. There
is an evangelical repentance ; the heart is broken for sin.
That sacrifice is offered to God, which David offered ra
ther than burnt-offerings after his great fall. Psal. li. 16,
17. " For thou desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it;
thou delightest not in burnt-offering. The sacrifices of
God are a broken spirit ; a broken and a contrite heart, O
God, thou wilt not despise." They are brought as Job
was, after he had sinned, in complaining of God's deal
ings with him, to abhor themselves. Job xiii. 6. And
they are in a meeker frame, as the christian Corinthians
were, after they had greatly gone out of the way, and had
been reproved by the apostle Paul. 2 Cor. vii. 11. " For
behold the self-same thing, that ye sorrowed after a godly
sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea what clearing
of yourselves, yea what indignation, yea what fear, yea
what vehement desire, yea what zeal, yea, what Tevenge."
They were filled with sorrow, and with a kind of indigna
tion, zeal, and spirit of revenge against themselves for their
folly, and so ungratefully treating God. When Christians
are convinced of their sin after remarkable miscarriages and
ill frames, they are commonly convinced of many of
the same things of which they were convinced under their
first humdiation, but to a greater degree than ever before.
They are brought to a new conviction, and a greater con
viction than ever before, of their own emptiness, and to be
sensible what poor, feeble, helpless creatures, and what
sinful, vile, utterly unworthy creatures, they are ; how un
deserving they are of any mercy, and how much they
deserve God's wrath. And this conviction works by a
gracious humbling of the soul. The grace of humility is
greatly increased by it, and very commonly they are more
poor in spirit and lowly of heart during all their future
life. They see more what cause there is for them to lav
their hands on their mouths, and to walk humbly with
God, and lie low before him.
3. There is a renewed application to Christ as a Saviour
from sin.
There is a renewed act of reliance on him for justifica
tion, of faith in his blood to cleanse them, and of trust in
his righteousness to cover their nakedness and filthiness.
And Christ as a Saviour becomes more precious to them.
As they have a greater sense of their own emptiness and
vileness, so they have a more entire dependence on Christ's
fulness. 4. The heart is farther separated from those ways of sin,
and more confirmed against them, than ever. After it they
commonly have a greater dread of it, and greater abhorrence,
look upon it more as an enemy, and remember what they
have suffered from it ; and their hearts are more confirmed
against it than ever. They have stronger resolutions to
all which savours of the like, and all which might lead to
it. Therefore this is mentioned among the effects of the
repentance of the Corinthians after their going astray.
" What carefulness it wrought in you, yea what clearing
of yourselves, yea what fear, yea what earnest desire."
There was a more than ordinary fear and dread of the
like sin for the future, and more carefulness to shun it,
and a more earnest desire of the contrary. The work of
God in the heart of a saint after declension oftentimes, in
many respects, resembles the work of God in a sinner at

his conversion ; though it is not in all respects like it, be
cause of the great difference in the subject. When the
troubler comes to be thus slain after times of trouble and
darkness in the godly, then God is wont to open a door of
hope. The darkness which has covered them, which was
greatest a little before, is now scattered, and light arises.
It may be before there had been a long night of clouds
and darkness. But now the clouds begin to scatter, and
the sweet refreshing beams begin to break forth, and come
down into the heart. The soul, which has been wounded,
is now healed. God pours in the oil of comfort. The re
newed sense, which is given, of Christ's fulness and suffi
ciency, gives new life and hope and joy. The troubler
being slain, God now grants renewed discoveries of his
glory, and renewed manifestations of his grace ; and the
soul, which was before in darkness, is now entertained
with sweet views. And now that hope, which was so
weakened, and was almost ready to fail, is revived, and
greatly confirmed. Now the soul is enabled to take com
fort in the promises. Now the saint sees evidences of his
own good estate by the renewed manifestations which
God makes of himself, and renewed exercises of grace.
Before the soul was greatly exercised with doubts and fears
and dark clouds ; and much time was spent in reviewing
past experiences, and looking over and examining those
things which were formerly regarded as evidences of piety;
and all in vain. They pored on past experiences, but to
no satisfaction. And the reason was, the troubler was not
slain, but still remained alive. But now God gives them
new light, and new experiences, which in a few moments
do more towards scattering their clouds, and removing
their fears, than all their poring on past experiences could
do for months, and probably for years. Before their hearts
seemed in a great measure dead as to spiritual exercises.
But now there is, as it were, new life. Now when they
read the Scripture, and when they hear the word preached,
it is with a savour and relish of it. Now they can find
God in his word and ordinances. Now Christ comes to
them, and manifests himself to them, and they are admit
ted again to communion with God. When Christians
have comfort and hope thus renewed, their comforts are
commonly purer than ever. Their joys are more humble
joys, freer from any mixture and taint of self-righteousness,
than before.
Having thus shown that God is wont to cause hope and
comfort to arise to the soul after trouble and humbling for
sin, and upon slaying the troubler, both at first conversion
and afterwards, after sad declinings, I would now give the
reasons ofthe doctrine.
1 . I would show why God is wont to give comfort after
trouble and humbling for sin ; or why he is wont to bring
the soul into the wilderness before he speaks comfortably
to it, and leads it into the valley of Achor, before he opens
a door of hope.
1 . It is that the soul may be prepared for a confiding
application of itself to Christ for comfort. It is the will
of God that men should have true hope and comfort con
ferred upon them in no other way, than by Jesus Christ.
It is only by him that sinners have comfort at their con
version ; and it is by him only that the saints have
renewed hope and comfort after their declensions. And
therefore the way to obtain this comfort is to look to him,
to fly for refuge to him. And in order to this, persons
have need to be brought to a sense of their necessity of
him. And that they may be so, it is needful that they
should be sensible of their calamity and misery, that they
should be in trouble, and be brought to see their utter
helplessness in themselves. And not only natural men,
but Christians also, who are fallen into sin, and are in a
dead and senseless frame, need something to make them
more sensible of their necessity of Christ. Indeed the best
are not so sensible of their need of Christ but that they
need to be made more sensible ; but especially tliose who
are in ill and dead frames, and a declining state, need
trouble and humbling to make them sensible of their need
of Christ, and to prepare their minds for a renewed con
fiding application to Christ as their only remedy. The
godly in such a case are sick with a sore disease, and
Christ is the only Physician who can heal them ; and they
need to be sensible of their disease, that they may see

SERMON III.

845

their need qf a physician. They, as well as natural men,
need to be in a storm and tempest to make them sensible
of their need to fly to him who is a hiding-place from the
wind, and a covert from the tempest. A Christian, who
wanders away from God, is like Noah's dove, which flew
from the ark. She flew about till weary and spent,
seeking rest somewhere else, but found no rest for the sole
of her foot, and then she returned to the ark. So it is
needful that the soul of a godly man, who wanders from
Christ, should become weary, and find no rest for the sole
of his foot, that so he may see his need of returning to
Christ. Therefore it is said concerning the children of
Israel in Hosea ii. 6. " Therefore, behold, I will hedge up
thy way with thorns, and make a wall that she shall not
find her paths." And in our context, " She shall follow
after her lovers, but she shall not overtake them ; and she
shall seek them, but shall not find them. Then shall she
say, I will go and return to my first husband, for then was it
better with me than now." When gracious souls wan-
derfrom Christ, their husband, following after other lovers,
God is wont to bring them into trouble and distress, and
make them see, that their other lovers cannot help them,
that so they may see, that it is best for them to return to
their first husband.
2. Another end of God in it is, that comfort and hope
may be the more prized when obtained. We see in tem-
fioral things, that the worth and value of any enjoyment is
earned by the want of it. He who is sick, knows the
worth of health. He who is in pain, knows how to prize
ease. He who is in a storm at sea, knows how to prize
safety on shore. And people who are subject to the
grievances of war, know how to value peace. He who
endures the hardships of captivity and slavery, is thereby
taught how to value liberty. And so it is in spiritual
things. He who is brought to see his misery in being
without hope, is prepared to prize hope when obtained.
He who is brought into distress through fear of hell and
God's wrath, is the more prepared to prize the comfort
which arises from the manifestation of the favour of God,
and a sense of safety from hell. He who is brought to
see his utter emptiness and extreme poverty and necessity,
and his perishing condition on that account, is thoroughly
prepared to prize and rejoice in the manifestation of a ful
ness in Christ. And those godly persons who are fallen
into corrupt and senseless frames, greatly stand in need of
something to make them more sensible of their want of
spiritual comfort and hope. Their living as they do shows
that they have too little sense of the worth and value of
that comfort, and those inestimable spiritual and saving
blessings, which God has bestowed upon them ; otherwise
they never would deal so ungratefully with God, who has
bestowed them. If they did not greatly err in slighting
spiritual comfort, as the children of Israel did manna, their
hearts would never, to such a degree, have gone out after
vanity, and earthly enjoyments, and carnal delights. They
need to be brought into trouble and darkness to make
them sensible ofthe worth of hope and comfort, and to
teach them to prize it. They need to be brought into
the wilderness, and left for a time to wander and suffer
hunger and thirst in a barren desert, to teach them how to
prize their vineyards. A sense of the pardon of sin, and
the favour of God, and a hope of eternal life, do not afford
comfort and joy to the soul any farther than they are
valued and prized. So that the trouble and darkness
which go before comfort, serve to render the joy and com
fort the greater when obtained, and so are in mercy to
those for whom God intends comfort.
3. It is so ordered that divine power and grace may be
acknowledged in giving hope and comfort. There is na
turally in men an exceeding insensibility of their depend
ence on God, and a great disposition to ascribe those
things which they enjoy to themselves, or to second causes.
This disposition reigns in natural men. They are wholly
under the power of it. Therefore they need to be taught
their own helplessness, and utter insufficiency, and utter
unworthiness. Otherwise, if hope and comfort should be
bestowed upon them, they would surely ascribe all to
themselves, or the creature, and so would be lifted up by
it, and would not give God the glory. Therefore it is
God's manner first to humble sinners before lie comforts

them. And all this self-confident disposition is not extir
pated out of the hearts of the godly, and especially when
they get into ill frames does it prevail. And it is very re
quisite, that before any remarkable comfort is bestowed
upon them, they should be the subjects of renewed hum
bling. They need renewedly to see what helpless creatures
they are, that so, when light is bestowed, they may be
sensible how it is owing to God, and not to themselves, or
any other; and that they may, by their troubles and hum-
blings, be prepared the more to admire God's power and
mercy, and free and rich grace to them. While men are
continued in fulness in a fruitful land, they will not learn
their own helplessness ; and therefore God wili cast them
out of this fulness into a wilderness. This is plainly inti
mated to be the reason of God's so dealing with the chil
dren of Israel, as is said in the text. The church of Israel,
before God thus led her into the wilderness, did not
ascribe her comforts to God, as in the eighth verse. " For
she did not know that I gave her corn, and wine, and oil,
and multiplied her silver and gold." But they ascribed
them to her idols. Verse fifth. " For she said, I will go
after my lovers, that give me my bread and my water, my
wool and my flax, mine oil and my drink." And verse
twelfth. " These are my rewards, that my lovers have given
me." For this reason it is that God takes away those
things, as in verse ninth. " Therefore will I return and
take away my corn in Ihe time thereof, and my wine in the
season thereof, and will recover my wool and my flax
given to cover her nakedness." And verses 11, 12. " I
will also cause all her mirth to cease, her feast days, her
new moons, and her sabbaths, and ail her solemn feasts.
And 1 will destroy her vines and her fig-trees, whereof
she hath said, These are my rewards that my lovers have
given me ; and I will make them a forest, and the beasts
of the field shall eat them." God took them away, and
turned her vineyards into a forest, and made her sensible
that they were from him ; and then he restored them again.
For these reasons God is wont to bring souls into trouble,
and to humble them for sin before he comforts them. I
proceed, 2. To give the reasons why hope and comfort are not
obtained till sin, which is the troubler, is slain.
1. While sin is harboured and preserved alive, it tends
to provoke God to frown and express his anger. Sin is
God's mortal enemy. It is that which his soul infinitely
hates, and to which he is an irreconcilable enemy. And
therefore if we harbour this, and suffer it to live in our
hearts, and to govern our practice, we can expect no other
than that it will provoke God's frowns. Spiritual comfort
consists in the manifestation of God's favour, and in friend
ly communion with God. But how can we expect this at
the same time that we harbour his mortal enemy ? We
see what God said to Joshua, while Achan was alive.
Josh. vii. 12. " Neither will I be with you any more, ex
cept ye destroy the accursed thing from among you."
2. The natural tendency of sin is to darken the mind,
and trouble the conscience. There is nothing which
wounds a well-informed conscience but sin. Sin is the
enemy qf grace, and therefore the natural tendency of it is
to oppose and keep down the exercises of grace, and so to
extinguish spiritual comfort ; for spiritual comfort comes
in no other way than by the exercise of grace. That which
prevents the exercises of grace darkens the evidences of a
man's good estate. For there are no evidences of this but
the exercises of grace. Sin does as much tend to keep out
spiritual comfort, as clouds tend to hide the light of the
sun. And therefore it is necessary that this should be
removed in order to our receiving light and comfort. It is
impossible in its own nature that any should have spiritual
light and comfort before sin is mortified. If sinners had
comfort while sin is in reigning power, it could not be
spiritual comfort; for spiritual comfort is the same with
gracious comfort. But now can there be gracious comfort
where grace has no place? But if there be grace, sin will
not be in reigning power ; for the nature of grace is to mor
tify sin. And as there can be no spiritual comfort without
a degree of mortification of sin in those in whom sin is
mortified, spiritual comfort cannot be any more than in pro
portion as sin is mortified.
3. A hope of eternal life, if given before the slaying of

846

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

sin, would be misimproved and abused. If it were possible
that a sinner could obtain a title to eternal life before sin was
mortified, and so could have his own safety and God's
favour manifested to him, he would only improve it to en
courage and imbolden himself in sin. Hope, if they had
it then, would have a pernicious influence and tendency.
Till sin is slain, they stand in need of fear to restrain sin.
If fear were once gone before sin is slain, they would soon
run into all manner of wickedness, and without restraint.
And so Christians themselves, while they are in corrupt
frames, stand in need of fear to restrain sin ; for at such
times love is in a great degree dormant. It is of necessity
that persons should have some principle or other to re
strain them from sin. But there is no principle which can
be effectual to restrain men from sin any farther than it is
in exercise. If love is not in exercise it will not restrain
men. So that at such times the saints need fear. And
therefore God has wisely ordered it, that at such times their
evidences should be darkened and their hopes clouded,
that they may have fear, when love is not awake, to re
strain them. The godly themselves, if their hope were all
alive at those times when they are in carnal and thought
less frames, and grace is asleep, would be in great danger
to abuse their hope, and take encouragement from it to in
dulge their lusts, or at least, to be the less careful to re
strain and resist them. For we see that in such frames,
though their hopes are clouded, and they have a consider
able degree of fear, yet they are careless and negligent. But
how much more so would they be, if they had no fear to
restrain them ! APPLICATION.
I. Use of instruction.
1. Hence we may observe the wonderful wisdom of
God in his dealings with the souls of men. When we
consider what has been said, with the reasons of it, we
may see just cause to admire the divine wisdom in his
ordinary dealings with respect to those for whom he intends
comfort. His wisdom is admirable in his dealings with
natural men in fitting and preparing them for comfort, in
bringing them into such troubles and distress, and hedging
up their way with thorns, as it is expressed in the context,
and leaving them in their distress to follow after their
lovers, their idols, without being able to overtake them ;
in taking away their vineyards, and all those things in
which they trusted, and making them a forest ; and so
showing them what poor, destitute, helpless creatures they
are, before he gives them comfort. And so we may weil
admire the divine wisdom in his method of dealing with
his saints, who decline and fall into sin, or get into corrupt
frames and ill ways. God knows how to order things
concerning them ; and there is a marvellous wisdom ob
servable in his manner of dealing with them in such cases.
We may well admire how wisely God orders things in
what has been said, for his own glory, to secure the glory
due to his power and free grace, and to bring men to a
sense of their dependence on him, and to ascribe all to
him. And how he orders things for the glory of his Son,
that he may have all the glory of the salvation of men,
who is worthy of it, in that he laid down his life for their
salvation. And also how wisely God orders things for the
good of his own elect people, now he brings good out of
evil, and light out of darkness. How wisely he consults
their good and comfort in those things, which appear to
them to be most against them. How he wisely prepares
them for good, and makes way for their receiving comfort,
and for its being the more sweet, the more prized and de
lighted in, when it is obtained. And oftentimes in bring
ing about this in those things, which they think at the time
to be signs of God's hatred. And how wisely God orders
things for preventing men's abusing a sense of their own
safety, to giving the reins to their lusts. It is ordered so,
that at those times when sin prevails, and there would be
danger of this, the evidences of their safety are hid from
their eyes, and the fear of hell comes on to keep them in
awe ; and that hope and comfort should be given only at
such times and in such manner that they should have in
fluence to draw men off from sin, and to prompt them to
diligence in duty and the service of God ; and that when

it would have most of this tendency, then they should
have most of it. When we consider these things, we may
well cry out with the apostle, " O the depth both of the
wisdom and knowledge of God ! how unsearchable are his
judgments, and his ways past finding out !"
2. Hence we may leam, that souls, who are in darkness,
and, as it were, in a wilderness, have no cause to be dis
couraged. For by the doctrine we learn that this is the
way often, in order to hope and comfort. Persons are
very often ready to be discouraged by this. God seems
to frown. They have a sense of his anger. They cry to
him, and he does not seem to hear their prayers. They
have been striving for relief, but it seems to be to no pur-
fiose. They are in such circumstances, that every thing
ooks dark ; every thing seems to be against them. They
are lost in a wilderness ; they cannot find the way out.
They have gone round and round, and returned again to
the same place. They know not which way to turn
themselves, or what to do. Their hearts are ready to sink.
But you may gather encouragement from this doctrine ;
for by it you may learn that you have no cause to despair.
For "it is" frequently God's manner to bring persons into
such circumstances, in order to prepare them for hope and
comfort. The children of Israel were ready to be dis
couraged at the Red sea, when they saw Pharaoh and his
hosts pursuing them. But it was only to prepare them for
the greater joy after their deliverance. Joshua and the
hosts of Israel were ready to be discouraged when they
were smitten at Ai, as you may see in Joshua vii. 5, &c.
So that you, who are in the wilderness, may take en
couragement from hence, still earnestly to seek God, and
hope for light and comfort in his time.
II. LTse of self-examination. By this persons may try
their hopes and comforts, whether they are of the right
kind. If they are such as have arisen after the manner,
as is spoken of in the doctrine ; if it is a hope which you
found in the valley of Achor, in the sense which has been
explained ; it is a sign that it is a hope which God has
given you, and so a hope which you are not to cast away ;
but which you are to retain, and rejoice in, and bless God
for it. Therefore particularly inquire concerning your
hopes and comforts, whether they have arisen in your
souls when humbled for sin, and in the slaying of sin.
1 . Inquire whether your hopes and comforts have been
given you upon your soul's being humbled for sin. You
may try this by three things.
1. Whether you have seen what a miserable, helpless
creature you were. When your hopes and comforts have
arisen in your heart, has it been upon your soul's receiving
such a sight of yourself; or has your hope been accom
panied with such a sense of soul ? When hope was given
at first, was it implanted in a heart thus prepared ? And
when you have had remarkable comfort and joy from time
to time, has your joy been accompanied with such a sense
and frame of mind ? At the same time that you have had
a strong hope of God's favour, and that Christ was yours,
have you been nothing in your own eyes ; have you at
such times appeared to yourself to be a poor, little, help
less, unworthy creature, deserving nothing at the hands
of God ? And do not only inquire whether in your own
apprehension you had some such sight of yourself at first,
before your first comfort. If you ever had a right under
standing of yourself, of your own heart, and your own
state, you wiil never wholly lose it. It will revive from
time to time. If you had it when you received your first
comfort, the same sense will come again ; when your
comforts are revived, this will revive with them. If the
first joy was granted to a heart thus prepared, there will
from time to time be a sense of your own emptiness and
worthlessness, arising with your joys and comforts. It
will be with a deep sense of what a poor, miserable, and
exceedingly sinful creature you are. True comfort is wont
to come in sueh a manner. There is usually a self-empty
ing, a soul-abasing, sense of heart accompanying it. So
that at the same time that God lifts up the soul with
comfort, and joy, and inward sweetness, he casts it down
with abasement. Evangelical and gracious humiliation
and spiritual comfort are companions, which go one with
the other, and keep company together. When one comes,
the other is wont to come with it. It is not wont to be so

SERMON III.

847

with false comforts and joys. But pride and self-fulness
are wont to be the companions of false comfort. Indeed,
there may be a counterfeit abasement going with it. But
if you examine it, you will find, that that very seeming
abasement or humiliation lifts the man up, and fills him
full of himself. The hypocrite, in the times of his greatest
joy, and most confident hopes, looks large in himself. His
thoughts are very busily employed about his own excel
lencies, how holy he is, how eminent a saint he is, how
much better he is than most of his neighbours, how there
are few equal to him ; and therefore how it must be that
God loves him better than most others ; how much God
distinguishes him, how much he experiences, and how good
he is, and what delight he takes in them on that account.
But true spiritual comfort works in another way. Gra
cious joy and poverty of spirit go hand in hand, and rejoice,
as it were, in each other's company. The godly may at
some times have comforts and joys, which do not accom
pany such abasement. They may be lifted up with joy
and conceit of, and confidence in, themselves at the same
time. But those joys are not spiritual, they are hypocriti
cal, joys. Such comforts are not from the Spirit of God.
A godiy man may have false joys. He is liable to this
exercise of corruption, as well as others. And there, may
be a mixture of one with the other, or false joy and pride
may take occasion from true ones, afterwards to appear.
But a gracious joy is linked together with poverty of spirit,
and never forsakes it. And hence,
2. You may try this by examining what your hopes and
comforts are buiit upon ; whether on Christ only, or on
your own righteousness. If you would know of what
kind your comforts are, follow them up to the fountain,
and see what is their source and spring. If you would
know of what kind your hope is, examine the bottom of
it, and see upon what foundation it stands. If your hope
is that which has been given in the valley of Achor, your
own righteousness is not the foundation of it. Inquire
therefore what it is, which gives you ease with respect to
your past sins, what it is which quiets your conscience
about them. Is it any sense you have of the free, and
sovereign, and infinite grace and mercy of God in Christ ?
Is it what you have seen in Christ, or the gospel of his
grace, which has lightened your burden with respect to
your sins? Or is it that now you think with yourself that
you have done such and such things, or have met with
such things, have such workings of affection towards God,
lhat you are become lovely in his sight, so that he, seeing
what holy affections and experiences your heart has been
filled with, and what discoveries you have had, he is on
that account reconciled to you, and you are become lovely
in his eyes? What makes you hope that you are in favour
with God ? Is it because you conceive of God as looking
down from heaven upon your heart, on your gracious ex
periences, and so being, as it were, taken with, and re
ceiving you into his favour on account of that ? Or is
your hope of God's favour built on a sense which you
have of Christ's worthiness, and the saving mercy of God
in him, and his faithfulness to the promises, which he has
made through him ?
3. Inquire concerning the effect of your comforts, whe
ther they cause an ardent disposition and desire to exalt
God, and to lie low before him. True comforts and joys,
which are from the Spirit of God, and are well founded, are
wont to work after this manner. They excite an inward in
tense desire that God may be exalted, and to lie in the dust
Such a one as the psalmist seems to have had, when he
says, Psal. cxv. 1. " Not unto us, not unto us, but unto thy
name give glory." The repeating of the expression seems
to show how ardent his heart was. When God is pleased
to lift up the light of his countenance upon the soul, and
to impart inward sweetness from a manifestation of bis
glory, there is wont to be an inward longing to be in the
dust. At such times the Christian sees how it becomes him
to be humble, and how worthy God and Christ are of all
the glory, more than he does at other times. He perceives
and laments that he cannot bow enough ; that he is not
abased as low before God as becomes such a sinner as
himself. Hence arises an intense desire after self-abase
ment ; and the soul breathes and pants after humiliation
before God.

2. Inquire whether your hope and comfort are such as
have arisen on the slaying of sin. If your hope is that
which you obtained before this, you obtained it too soon,
and had better be without it than with it. It is not suffi
cient evidence of your hope, that it was given after much
trouble and great terrors, or great relentings of heart for
sin, and bewailing that you had done so wickedly, or that
it was after reformations, and abstaining from former ways
of sin, and a total reformation of some particular evil prac
tices. But if it be a true hope, it was given after the slay
ing of sin. And in order the better to determine this point,
let the following inquiries be made.
1. Whether your hope has been accompanied with a
heart and a life turned from sin ? Or is there no remark
able difference in this respect now from what there was
before ? We all own conversion to be a great change ; and
we have all been sufficiently taught, that the change con
sists in this; in turning from sin to God. Therefore there
must be a great change in this respect. Is there a great
change in this respect in you? I do not inquire whether
there be a great change in you in respect to hope and com
fort ; that whereas formerly you did not suppose yourself
to be in Christ, and had no hope of it, now you have hope,
and a confident hope, which .oftentimes is an occasion of
new and peculiar joy and elevation of spirit. There may
be a great change in you in this respect, and yet you may
remain in a Christless state. But is there a great change with
respect to the turning of your heart from sin, and against
sin ? You may reply to this, " I see still abundance of
corruption and wickedness in my heart ; and so far is it
from being delivered from corruption, that I seem at times
to discover more than ever. But whether you see more or
less corruption in your heart, is your heart turned against
that corruption which you see? Is there a great difference
in you in this respect from what there used to be with
respect to your being turned against your own sin, and
finding within yourself a nature opposite to it, a nature to
resist it, to carry it as an uneasy burden ? And is your
heart turned against yourself for it, in abhorrence of your
self, and in indignation against yourself? And is your
will turned from sin, that though you find a great deal of
corruption in your heart, yet you do not allow it, you keep
a strict watch upon it, and will not let it walk at liberty to
appear in your life and conversation ? Is there no lust
harboured, which is prevalent in you, and which is neglect
ed, and suffered to range and to walk on every side ? Is
there no sin wittingly tolerated ? Do you aim strictly to
keep all God's commandments ; and is that your actual
care and watch, that you may avoid every evil, and every
false way ; and that you may in all things, so far as in you
lies, please and honour God? And do you find that this
is the tendency of your hope ; that your hope has a sanc
tifying influence upon you, that it turns you against sin,
and stirs you up to seek after purity from sin? With
respect to most who are here present, who entertain hope,
there has been much opportunity for experience in this
matter, since you have had your hope, so that one would
think by an impartial and strict examination you might be
able to answer these inquiries.
2. Those of you, who have obtained your hope again
after special and remarkable departings from God, should
inquire in what manner hope has been restored. Indeed
hypocrites are not so apt to have their hope abated by such
things, as those who have a true hope. A hypocrite's
hopes and false comforts will subsist, and it may be con
tinue as lively as ever, under such great sins, and such a
course of ill practices, as, if a godly man should fall into
them, would bring him into exceeding darkness. Some
hypocrites will live in very immoral ways, and yet keep
up their confidence, seem not to have their hope much
shaken, and boast of as much comfort and joy at such
times as at any other. But this is not the manner of a
true comfort. A true comfort, which flows from the exer
cise and the breathings of the Spirit of God in the heart,
must, of necessity, at such times be exceedingly suppress
ed ; and commonly great trouble and darkness is the effect.
But if it has not been altogether thus with you, but you
have found that at times, when you have greatly sinned
and gone on in ill practices, your hope has decayed, and in
the time of it your conscience told you that the way in

848

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

which you lived was contrary to known rules, and so was
in doubt about your hope, but since that you have grown
strong again in your hope, inquire in what manner you
have obtained your hope again. Unsound professors in
such cases are not wont to obtain hope again in the same
manner as the truly godly do, in a deep humbling for sin,
and in slaying the troubler, as has been described. But it
may be only this, that now they do better than they did,
and so hope comes again. If they lived in a way of some
vile sensuality for a time, and afterwards cease to do so,
they look on their reformation as an atonement ; and so
their hope is renewed without any humbling or abasement,
without any special convictions of the evil of their ways,
any special repentance, or renewed sense of their own vile
ness, or any renewed flying to the mercy of God in Christ
for refuge, or any further alienation of their hearts from
those evil ways in which they have walked. If your com
forts and confidence have been renewed after remarkable
aberrations from the way of duty without something of
this nature, it is to be feared that you make your own
righteousness the ground of your hope and comfort.
3. Inquire whether at those times, when you have most
hope and comfort, above all others, you are most disposed
to be careful to avoid sin, and to strive to live holy. Some
times the hope of hypocrites is very confident ; and there
fore the degree of confidence which attends a hope is no
certain evidence of its truth and genuineness. But we
should examine what effect this strong confidence has upon
us. Do we find, when our hope is strongest and our
comfort greatest, that then our hearts are most set against
sin, and that then we feel the greatest desires to live holy,
and have most of a disposition to keep a strict watch, and
maintain an earnest warfare against sin, and are most
desirous in every thing to do our duty? Or do we find,
on the contrary, when our hope is strong, and we are most
satisfied that our condition is safe, that then we are least
careful to avoid sin, and are least disposed to take pains
to curb our lusts, and resist temptation, or lay ourselves
in the way of duty? If it be thus, it is a very bad sign,
and a black mark on our hopes and comforts. A true
hope has a tendency to prompt him who has it to purifv
himself, and watch and strive more earnestly against all
impurity. 1 John iii. 3. " He that hath this hope in him
purifieth himself." They are condemned who, because
they think they are righteous, and so that they shall cer
tainly have eternal life, will trust in that hope to give
themselves the greater liberty in sin. Ezek. xxxiii. 13.
" When I shall say to the righteous, that he shall surely
live ; if he trust to his own righteousness, and commit
iniquity, all his righteousness shall not be remembered ;
but for his iniquity that he hath committed, he shall die."
III. Use of direction. If it be so, that God is wont to
cause hope and comfort to arise after trouble and humbling
for sin, and upon slaying the troubler, this may be of di
rection to souls under spiritual trouble and darkness, what
course to pursue for hope and comfort.
1. Thoroughly to renounce and forsake all ways of sin
ful behaviour. For you have heard that hope and com
fort are never to be expected, till sin is slain or forsaken.
He who is not thorough in his reformation, cannot reason
ably hope for comfort, how much soever be may abound
in some particular duties. Persons who are under awak
enings, and would seek a true hope of salvation, should
in the first place see, that they thoroughly renounce every
wicked practice. They should search their ways, and
consider what is wrong in them : what duties they have
omitted, which ought to have been done ; and what
practices they have allowed, which ought to be forsaken ;
and should immediately reform, retaining no one way of
sin, denying all ungodliness, omitting nothing which is
required ; and should see that they persevere in it, that
it be not merely a temporary, short-lived restraint, but an
everlasting renunciation. This is the way to have the
troubler slain.
2. Earnestly to seek humiliation. To that end they
should labour to be convinced of sin. They should be
much engaged in searching their own hearts, and keeping
a watchful eye upon them. They should not rest in their
own efforts, but earnestly seek to God to give them a right
sight of themselves, and a right conviction of sin, and

show them that they have deserved God's everlasting
wrath. And in order to this they should carefully watch
against backsliding ; for backsliding prevents humiliation.
If there has been any progress made by the conviction of
God's Spirit towards it, it is all lost by backsliding. This
again blinds and stupifies the heart, and sets the man fur
ther than ever from a right knowledge of himself, and sight
of his own heart.
3. To search and endeavour to find out the troubler.
You have heard that when the godly are in darkness, it is
not for want of love in God to them, or a readiness in him
to give them comfort ; but that sin is doubtless the cause
of their darkness in one way or another. Their troubler
lies at their own door. There is doubtless some troubler
in the camp, which causes God to withdraw. And there
fore if you would have light revive, and have the com
fortable presence of God again, the first thing which you
do must be to search, and find out the troubler. Many,
when they are in darkness, proceed in a wrong way. They
go to examining past experience. And that they should
do ; but what is wrong in it is, that they do that only.
They spend their time in seeking for something in them
selves which is good ; whereas they ought to spend more
of it in seeking out that which is bad. Whatever good
there is, they are never likely to find it out, till they find
out the sin which obscures and hides it. And whatever
they reflect upon, which they formerly thought was good,
is not likely to afford any satisfaction to them, till that
bad thing be removed out of the way which troubled
them. They wonder what the cause is, that they are so in
the dark. They verily thought in time past, that they
were right, and that they had experienced a right work of
God's Spirit on their hearts, and thought that they were
the children of God. But now God hides his face from
them, and they wonder what is the matter ; as Joshua
seemed to be astonished when Israel was smitten down at
Ai. Sometimes they almost conclude, that it is because
they are not the children of God. They pray to God to
renew his comforts to them, and spend much time. And
they ought to pray. But they have more need to do
something else. Joshua spent a great deal of time in
prayer when Israel was troubled. He fell upon his face
till eventide, complaining to God about his withdrawing
from them. But God says to him, Josh. vii. 10, 11.
" Get thee up; wherefore liest thou thus upon thy face?"
As much as to say, you had more need to be doing some
thing else, than lie there. " Israel hath sinned, and they
have also transgressed my covenant, which I commanded
them ; for they have even taken of the accursed thing."
And ver. 13. " Up, sanctify yourselves." This teaches
you, who are under darkness, and have your hopes dark
ened, and comforts deadened, what you should do. You
must arise and search, and find out the troubler. If you
do not do this, it will signify nothing to you to lie crying
and complaining to God about your darkness. You have
other business which you have more need to do, though
prayer should not be left undone. Let me beseech you,
therefore, to be thorough in this. You have need to be
thorough, for it is an exceedingly difficult thing to find out
the accursed thing in such cases. Men's hearts do like
Achan, who hid the accursed thing in the earth in the
midst of his tent. Joshua vii. 21. He hid it very closely.
He did not content himself with hiding it in the most se
cret place in his tent, but he dug in the ground and buried
it in the earth under his feet, that there might be no sign
of it above ground. So are men's deceitful hearts wont
to hide the accursed thing which troubles them. When
they are put upon searching for the cause of their trouble
and darkness, they think of one thing and another, but
commonly overlook the chief cause of all their trouble. It
does not so much as enter their minds. They search the
tent, but that is not enough ; they must search the very
ground, or they will not find it out. When they tell of
their darkness, and are put upon searching to see whether
some sinful way is not the cause, they readily own that it
is their fault. But yet they mistake the true Achan, not
withstanding all they confess of the corruption of their
hearts. It is not merely corruption in their hearts, work
ing in their thoughts, which is the cause ; but it is some
way of outward sin and wickedness, in which they have

SERMON IV.

849

of late in a great measure allowed themselves. That is
the principal cause of their trouble ; some way of pride, or
covetousness, or some way of envy, or evil-speaking, or
ill will to their neighbours, or self-will, or some other way
of unsuitable carriage, which is the chief cause of their
darkness. In some respects, it is a great deal easier to
find out little sins than greater sins, which causes many
to strain at a gnat who swallow a camel. Sins which are
common to all, and of which all complain, such as corrupt
workings of heart, they are willing to feel that it is no dis
grace to have them. And the godly commonly tell of
such things, and it does not affright them to see them.
But such things as malice, a proud behaviour, and many
other things which might be mentioned, are disagreeable.
They are not willing to see such things in themselves.
They therefore call them by good names, and put good
constructions on them, and hide them, as Achan did his
accursed thing under-ground. The sin which troubles
them most, has greatest possession of their hearts, and does
most blind and prejudice their minds, is passed over.
They can soon enough discover and see such things in
others, in one of an opposite party, or the like, but they
cannot see them in themselves ; and so they continue still
under darkness. It is an exceedingly difficult thing to find
out the troubler. You have need, therefore, to be exceed
ingly thorough in searching for this matter, and not to spare

yourself, or bribe your conscience at all, but labour to be
impartial in the search. And to induce you to this, con
sider what God said to Joshua. Josh. vii. 12. " Neither
will I be with you any more, unless you destroy the ac
cursed thing from among you." And, therefore,
4. When you have found out the troubler, be sure tho
roughly to destroy it. Renounce it with detestation, as a
vile serpent that has secretly lain under your head for a
long time, and infected you with his poisons time after
time, and bit you, when you were asleep, made you sick
and filled you with pain, and you knew it not. W'ould
not a man, when he has found out the serpent in such a
case, destroy it with indignation, and be for ever after
wards thoroughly watchful that he is not caught with
such a calamity again ? You cannot be too thorough in
destroying such an enemy, and labouring to root it out,
and extirpate all its race. Whoever of you are under
darkness and trouble, I am bold to say, if" God help you
to follow these directions, your darkness will soon be
scattered, and hope and comfort will arise. And this is
the surest, and readiest, and most direct course which any
of you can take in order to the renewing of comfort in
your soul. And without this, do not promise yourself any
considerable degree of light or comfort while you live,
however many examinations of past experiences and
prayers to God for light you may make.

SERMON IV.

Romans ix. 18.
Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will liave mercy, and
whom he will he hardeneth.
The apostle, in the beginning of this chapter, expresses
his great concern and sorrow of heart for the nation of the
Jews, who were rejected of God. This leads him to ob
serve the difference which God made by election between
some of the Jews and others, and between the bulk of that
people and the christian Gentiles. In speaking of this fie
enters into a more minute discussion of the sovereignty of
God in electing some to eternal life, and rejecting others,
than is found in any other part of the Bible ; in the course
of which he quotes several passages |from the Old Testa
ment, confirming and illustrating this doctrine. In the
ninth verse he refers us to what God said to Abraham,
showing his election of Isaac before Ishmael — " For this
is the word of promise ; At this time will I come, and
Sarah shall have a son :" then to what God had said to
Rebecca, showing his election of Jacob before Esau ;
" The elder shall serve the younger :" in the thirteenth
verse, to a passage from Malachi, " Jacob have I loved,
but Esau have I hated :" in the fifteenth verse, to what
God said to Moses, " I will have mercy on whom I will
have mercy ; and I will have compassion on whom I will
have compassion :" and the verse preceding the text, to
what God says to Pharaoh, "For the scripture saith unto
Pharaoh, Even for this same purpose have I raised thee up,
that I might show my power in thee, and that my name
might be declared throughout all the earth." In what the
apostle says in the text, he seems to have respect especially
to the two last-cited passages : to what God said to
Moses in the fifteenth verse, and to what he said to Pha
raoh in the verse immediately preceding. God said to
Moses, " I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy."
To this the apostle refers in the former part of the text.
And we know how often it is said of Pharaoh, that God
hardened his heart. And to this the apostle seems to have
respect in the latter part ofthe text; " and whom he will
he hardeneth." We may observe in the text,
1. God's different dealing with men. He hath mercy
on some, and hardeneth others. When God is here spoken
VOL. II. 3 I

of as hardening some of the children of men, it is not to
be understood that God by any positive efficiency hardens
any man's heart. There is no positive act in God, as
though he put forth any power to harden the heart. To
suppose any such thing would be to make God the imme
diate author of sin. God is said to harden men in two
ways : by withholding the powerful influences of his Spirit,
without which their hearts will remain hardened, and grow
harder and harder ; in this sense he hardens them, as he
leaves them to hardness. And again, by ordering those
things in his providence which, through the abuse of their
corruption, become the occasion of their hardening. Thus
God sends his word and ordinances to men which, by their
abuse, prove an occasion of their hardening. So the apos
tle said, that he was unto some " a savour of death unto
death." So God is represented as sending Isaiah on this
errand, to make the hearts of 'the people fat, and to make
their ears heavy, and to shut their eyes ; lest they should
see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and under
stand with their heart, and convert, and be healed. Isa.
vi. 10. Isaiah's preaching was, in itself, of a contrary ten
dency, to make them better. But their abuse of it ren
dered it an occasion of their hardening. As God is here
said to harden men, so he is said to put a lying spirit in
the mouth of the false prophets. 2 Chron. xviii. 22.
That is, he suffered a lying spirit to enter into them. And
thus he is said to have bid Shimei curse David. 2 Sam.
xvi. 10. Not that he properly commanded him ; for it is
contrary to God's commands. God expressly forbids
cursing the ruler of the people. Exod. xxii. 28. But he
suffered corruption at that time so to work in Shimei, and
ordered that occasion of stirring it up, as a manifestation of
his displeasure against David.
2. The foundation of his different dealing with man
kind ; viz. his sovereign will and pleasure. " He hath
mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he
hardeneth." This does not imply, merely, that God never
shows mercy or denies it against his will, or that he is al
ways willing to do it when he does it. A willing subject
or servant, when he obeys his lord's commands, may
never do any thing against his will, nothing but what he
can do cheerfully and with delight ; and yet he cannot be
said to do what he wills in the sense of the text. But the

850

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

expression implies that it is God's mere will and sovereign
pleasure, which supremely orders this affair. It is the
divine will without restraint, or constraint, or obligation.
Doctrine. God exercises his sovereignty in the eternal
salvation of men.
He not only is sovereign, and has a sovereign right to
dispose and order in that affair ; and he not only might
proceed in a sovereign way, if he would, and nobody could
charge him with exceeding his right ; but he actually does
so ; he exercises the right which he has. In the following
discourse, I propose to show,
I. What is God's sovereignty.
II. What God's sovereignty in the salvation of men im
plies. III. That God actually doth exercise his sovereignty in
this matter.
IV. The reasons for this exercise.
I. I would show what is God's sovereignty.
The sovereignty of God is his absolute, independent
right of disposing of all creatures according to his own
pleasure. 1 will consider this definition by the parts of it.
The will of God is called his mere pleasure,
1. In opposition to any constraint. Men may do things
voluntarily, and yet there may be a degree of constraint.
A man may be said to do a thing voluntarily, that is, he
himself does it ; and, all things considered, he may choose
to do it ; yet he may do it out of fear, and the thing in
itself considered be irksome to him, and sorely against his
inclination. When men do things thus, they cannot be
said to do them according to their mere pleasure.
2. In opposition to its being under the will of another.
A servant may fulfil his master's commands, and may do
it willingly, and cheerfully, and may delight to do his
master's will ; yet when he does so, he does not do it of
his own mere pleasure. The saints do the will of God
freely. They choose to do it ; it is their meat and drink.
Yet they do not do it of their mere pleasure and arbitrary
will; because their will is under the direction of a su
perior will.
3. In opposition to any proper obligation. A man may
do a thing which he is obliged to do, very freely ; but he
cannot be said to act from his own mere will and pleasure.
He who acts from his own mere pleasure, is at full liberty ;
but he who is under any proper obligation, is not at
liberty, but is bound. Now the sovereignty of God sup
poses, that he has a right to dispose of all his creatures
according to his mere pleasure in the sense explained.
And his right is absolute and independent. Men may
have a right to dispose of some things according to their
pleasure. But their right is not absolute and unlimited.
Men may be said to have a right to dispose of their own
goods as they please. But their right is not absolute ; it
has limits and bounds. They have a right to dispose of
their own goods as they please, provided they do not do it
contrary to the law of the state to which they are subject,
or contrary to the law of God. Men's right to dispose of
their things as they will, is not absolute, because it is not
independent. They have not an independent right to what
they have, but in some things depend on the community to
which they belong, for the right they have ; and in every
thing depend on God.' They receive all the right they have
to any thing from God. But the sovereignty of God im
ports that he has an absolute, and unlimited, and inde
pendent right of disposing of his creatures as he will. I
proposed to inquire,
II. What God's sovereignty in the salvation of men im
plies. In answer to" this inquiry, 1 observe, it implies that
God can either bestow salvation on any of the children oft
men, or refuse it, without any prejudice to the glory of
any of his attributes, except where he has been pleased to
declare, that he will or will not bestow it. It cannot be
said absolutely, as the case now stands, that .God can,
without any prejudice to the honour of any of his attri
butes, bestow salvation on any of the children of men, or
refuse it ; because, concerning some, God has been pleased
to declare either that he will or that he will not bestow
salvation on them ; and thus to bind himself by his own
promise. And concerning some he has been pleased to
declare^ that he never will bestow salvation upon them ;
viz. those who have committed the sin against the Holy

Ghost. Hence, as the case now stands, he is obliged ; he
cannot bestow salvation in one case, or refuse it in the
other, without prejudice to the honour of his truth. But
God exercised his sovereignty in making these declare.-*
tions. God was not obliged to promise that he would save
all who believe in Christ ; nor was he obliged to declare,
that he who committed the sin against the Holy Ghost
should never be forgiven. But it pleased him so to declare.
And had it not heen so that God had been pleased to oblige
himself in these cases, he might still have either bestowed
salvation, or refused it, without prejudice to any of his
attributes. If it would in itself be prejudicial to any of
his attributes to bestow or refuse salvation, then God would
not in that matter act as absolutely sovereign. Because it
then ceases to be a merely arbitrary thing. It ceases to be
a matter of absolute liberty, and is become a matter of
necessity or obligation. For God cannot do any thing to
the prejudice of any of his attributes, or contrary to what
is in itself excellent and glorious. Therefore,
1. God can, without prejudice to the glory of any of his
attributes, bestow salvation on any of the children of men,
except on those who have committed the sin against the
Holy Ghost. The case was thus when man fell, and before
God revealed his eternal purpose and plan for redeeming
men by Jesus Christ. It was probably looked u pon by the
angels as a thing utterly inconsistent with God's attribute*
to save any of the children of men. It was utterly incon
sistent with the honour of the divine attributes to save any
one of the fallen children of men, as they were in them
selves. It could not have been done had not God con
trived a way consistent with the honour of his holiness,
majesty, justice, and truth. But since God in the gospel
has revealed that nothing is too hard for him to do, nothing
beyond the reach of his power, and wisdom, and sufficiency ;
and since Christ has wrought out the work of redemption,
and fulfilled the law by obeying, there is none of mankind
whom he may not save without any prejudice to any of
his attributes, excepting those who have committed the sin
against the Holy Ghost. And those he might have saved
without going contrary to any of his attributes, had he not
been pleased to declare that he would not. It was not
because he could not have saved them consistently with
his justice, and consistently with his law, or because his
attribute of mercy was not great enough, or the blood of
Christ not sufficient to cleanse from that sin. But it has
pleased him for wise reasons to declare that that sin shall
never be forgiven in this world, or in the worjd to come.
And so now it is contrary to God's truth to save such.
But otherwise there is no sinner, let him be ever so great,
but God can save him without prejudice to any attribute ;
if he has been a murderer, adulterer, or perjurer, or
idolater, or blasphemer, God may save him if he pleases,
and in no respect injure his glory. Though persons have
sinned long, have been obstinate, have committed heinous
sins a thousand times, even till they have grown old in sin,
and have sinned under great aggravations : let the aggra
vations be what they may ; if they have sinned under ever
so great light; if they have been backsliders, and have
sinned against ever so numerous and solemn warnings and
strivings of the Spirit, and mercies of his common provi
dence : though the danger of such is much greater than
of other sinners, yet God can save them if he pleases, for
the sake of Christ, without any prejudice to any of his
attributes. He may have mercy on whom he will have
mercy. He may have mercy on the greatest of sinners, if
he pleases, and the glory of none of his attributes will be
in the least sullied. Such is the sufficiency of the satisfac
tion and righteousness of Christ, that none of the divine
attributes standin the way of the salvation of any of them.
Thus the glory of any attribute did not at all suffer by
Christ's saving some of his crucifiers.
1. God may save any of them without prejudice to the
honour of his holiness. God is an infinitely holy being.
The heavens are not pure in his sight. He is of purer eyes
than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity. And if
God should in any way countenance sin, and should not
give proper testimonies of his hatred of it, and displeasure
at it, it would be a prejudice to the honour of his holiness.
But God can save the greatest sinner without giving tbe
least countenance to sin. If he saves one, who for a long

SERMON IV.

851

time has stood out under the calls of the gospel, and has
sinned under dreadful aggravations ; if he saves one who,
against light, has been a pirate or blasphemer, he may do it
without giving any countenance to thsir wickedness ; be
cause his abhorrence of it and displeasure against it have
been already sufficiently manifested in the sufferings of
Christ. It was a sufficient testimony of God's abhorrence
against even the greatest wickedness, that Christ, the eternal
Son of God, died for it. Nothing can show God's infinite
abhorrence of any wickedness more than this. If the
wicked man himself should be thrust into hell, and should
endure the most extreme torments which are ever suffered
there, it would not be a greater manifestation of God's
abhorrence of it, than the sufferings of the Son of God
for it.
2. God may save any of the children of men without
prejudice to the honour of his majesty. If men have
affronted God, and that ever so much, if they have cast
ever so much contempt on his authority ; yet God can save
them, if he pleases, and the honour of his majesty not
suffer in the least. If God should save those who have
affronted him, without satisfaction, the honour of his
majesty would suffer. For when contempt is cast upon
infinite majesty, its honour suffers, and the contempt leaves
an obscurity upon the honour of the divine majesty, if the
injury is not repaired. But the sufferings of Christ do
fully repair the injury. Let the contempt be ever so great,
yet if so honourable a person as Christ undertakes to be a
Mediator for the offender, and in the mediation suffer in
his stead, it fully repairs the injury done to the majesty of
heaven by the greatest sinner.
3. God may save any sinner whatsoever consistently
with his justice. The justice of God requires the punish
ment of sin. God is the Supreme Judge of the world,
and he is to judge the world according to the rules of
justice. It is not the part of a judge to show favour to
the person judged ; but he is to determine according to a
rule of justice without departing to the right hand or left.
God does not show mercy as a judge, but as a sovereign.
And therefore when mercy sought the salvation of sinners,
the inquiry was how to make the exercise of the mercy of
God as a sovereign, and of his strict justice as a judge,
agree together. And this is done by the sufferings of
Christ, in which sin is punished fully, and justice answer
ed. Christ suffered enough for the punishment of the sins
of the greatest sinner that ever lived. So that God, when
he judges, may act according to a rule of strict justice, and
yet acquit the sinner, if he be in Christ. Justice cannot
require any more for any man's sins, than those sufferings
of one of the persons in the Trinity, which Christ suffer
ed. Rom. iii. 25, 26. " Whom God hath set forth to be
a propitiation through faith in his blood ; to declare his
righteousness, that he might be just, and the justifier of
him which believeth in Christ."
4. God can save any sinner whatsoever, without any
prejudice to the honour of his truth. God passed his
word, that sin should be punished with death, which is to
be understood not only of the first, but of the second
death. God can save the greatest sinner consistently with
his truth in this threatening. For sin is punished in the
sufferings of Christ, inasmuch as he is our surety, and so
is legally the same person, and sustained our guilt, and in
his sufferings bore our punishment. It may be objected,
that God said, If thou eatest, thou shalt die ; as though
the same person that sinned must suffer; and therefore
why does not God's truth oblige him to that? I answer,
that the word then was not intended to be restrained to
him, that in his own person sinned. Adam probably.
understood that his posterity were included, whether they
sinned in their own person or not. If they sinned in
Adam, their surety, those words, " if thou eatest," meant,
if thou eatest in thyself, or in thy surety. And therefore,
the latter words, " thou shalt die," do also fairly allow of
such a construction as, thou shalt die in thyself, or in thy
surety. Isa. xiii. 21. " The Lord is well pleased for his
righteousness' sake, he will magnify the law and make it
honourable." But,
ll. God may refuse salvation to any sinner whatsoever,
without prejudice to the honour of any of his attributes.
There is no person whatever in a natural condition,
3 i 2

upon whom God may not refuse to bestow salvation with
out prejudice to any part of his glory. Let a natural
person be wise or unwise, of a good or ill natural temper,
of mean or honourable parentage, whether born of wicked
or godly parents ; let him be a moral or immoral person,
whatever good he may have done, however religious he
has been, how many prayers soever he has made, and
whatever pains he has taken that he may be saved ; what
ever concern and distress he may have for fear he shall be
damned ; or whatever circumstances he may be in ; God
can deny him salvation without the least disparagement to
any of his perfections. His glory will not in any instance
be the least obscured by it.
1 . God may deny salvation to any natural person with
out any injury to the honour of his righteousness. If he
does so, there is no injustice nor unfairness in it. There is
no natural man living, let his case be what it will, but
God may deny him salvation, and cast him down to hell,
and yet not be chargeable with the least unrighteous or
unfair dealing in any respect whatsoever. This is evident,
because they all have deserved hell : and it is no injustice
for a proper judge to inflict on any man what he deserves.
And as he has deserved condemnation, so he has never
done any thing to remove the liability, or to atone for the
sin. He never has done any thing whereby he has laid
any obligations on God not to punish him as he deserved.
2. God may deny salvation to any unconverted person
whatever without any prejudice to the honour of his good
ness. Sinners are sometimes ready to flatter themselves,
that though it may not be contrary to the justice of God to
condemn them, yet it will not consist with tbe glory of his
mercy. They think it will be dishonourable to God's
mercy to cast them into hell, and have no pity or com
passion upon them. They think it will be very hard and
severe, and not becoming a God of infinite grace and
tender compassion. But God can deny salvation to any
natural person without any disparagement to his mercy
and goodness. That, which is not contrary to Gods
justice, is not contrary to his mercy. If damnation be
justice, then mercy may choose its own object. They
mistake the nature of the mercy of God, who think that it
is an attribute, which, in some cases, is contrary to justice.
Nay, God's mercy is illustrated by it, as in the twenty-
third verse of the context. " That he might make known
the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he
had afore prepared unto glory."
3. It is in no way prejudicial to the honour of God's
faithfulness. For God has in no way obliged himself to
any natural man by his word to bestow salvation upon
him. Men in a natural condition are not the children of
promise ; but lie open to the curse of the law, which
would not be the case if they had any promise to lay
hold of.
III. God does actually exercise his sovereignty in men's
salvation. •
We shall show how he exercises this right in several
particulars. 1. In calling one people or nation, and giving them the
means of grace, and leaving others without them. Ac
cording to the divine appointment, salvation is bestowed
in connexion with the means of grace. God may some
times make use of very unlikely means, and bestow salva
tion on men who are under very great disadvantages ; but
he does not bestow grace wholly without any means. But
God exercises his sovereignty in bestowing those means.
All mankind are by nature in like circumstances towards
God. Yet God greatly distinguishes some from others by
the means and advantages which he bestows upon them.
The savages, who live in the remote parts of this continent,
and are under the grossest heathenish darkness, as well as
the inhabitants of Africa, are naturally in exactly similar
circumstances towards God with us in this land. They are
no more alienated or estranged from God in their natures
than we; and God has no more to charge them with.
And yet what a vast difference has God made between us
and them ! In this he has exercised his sovereignty. He
did this of old, when he chose but one people, to make
them his covenant people, and to give them the means of
grace, and left all others, and gave them over to heathenish
darkness and the tyranny ofthe devil, to perish from gene-

852

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

ration to generation for mainy hundreds of years. The
earth in that time was peopled with many great and mighty
nations. There were the Egyptians, a people famed for
their wisdom. There were also the Assyrians and Chal
deans, who were great, and wise, and powerful nations.
There were the Persians, who by their strength and policy
subdued a great part of the world. There were the re
nowned nations of the Greeks and Romans, who were
famed over the whole world for their excellent civil govern
ments, for their wisdom and skill in the arts of peace and
war, and who by their military prowess in their turns sub
dued and reigned over the world. Those were rejected,
God did not choose them for his people, but left them for
many ages under gross heathenish darkness, to perish for
lack of vision ; and chose one only people, the posterity of
Jacob, to be his own people, and to give them the means
of grace. Psal. cxlvii. 19, 20. "He showeth his word
unto Jacob, his statutes and his judgments unto Israel.
He hath, not dealt so with any nation ; and as for his judg
ments, they have not known them." This nation were a
small, inconsiderable people in comparison with many
other people. Deut. vii. 7. " The Lord did not set his
love upon you, nor choose you, because ye were more in
number than any people ; for ye were the fewest of all
people." So neither was it for their righteousness; for
they had no more of that than other people. Deut. ix. 6.
" Understand therefore, that the Lord thy God giveth thee
not this good land to possess it for thy righteousness ; for
thou art a stiff-necked people." God gives them to un
derstand, that it was from no other cause but his free elect
ing love, that he chose them to be his people. That
reason is given why God loved them ; it was because he
loved them. Deut. vii. 8. Which is as much as to say, it
was agreeable to his sovereign pleasure, to set his love
upon you.
God also showed his sovereignty in choosing that people,
when other nations were rejected, who came of the same
progenitors. Thus the children of Isaac were chosen,
when the posterity of Ishmael and other sons of Abraham
were rejected. So the children of Jacob were chosen,
when the posterity of Esau were rejected : as the apostle
observes in the seventh verse, " Neither because they are
the seed of Abraham, are they all children ; but in Isaac
shall thy seed be called :" and again in verses 10, 11, 12,
13. "And not only this; but when Rebekah also had
conceived by one, even by our father Isaac ; the children
moreover being not yet born, neither having done any
good or evil, that the promise of God according to election
might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth ; it was
said unto her, The elder shall serve the younger. As it is
written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated."
The apostle has not respect merely to the election of the
persons of Isaac and Jacob before Ishmael and Esau ;
but of their posterity. In the passage, already quoted
from Malachi, God has respect to the nations, which were
the posterity of Esau and Jacob; Mai. i. 2, 3. "I have
loved you, saith the Lord. Yet ye say, Wherein hast thou
loved us? Was not Esau Jacob's brother? saith the
Lord : yet I loved Jacob ; and I hated Esau, and laid
his mountains and his heritage waste for the dragons ofthe
wilderness." God showed his sovereignty, when Christ
came, in rejecting the Jews, and calling the Gentiles.
God rejected that nation who were the children of Abra
ham according to the flesh, and had been his peculiar
people for so many ages, and who alone possessed the one
true God, and chose idolatrous heathen before them, and
called them to be his people. When the Messiah came,
who was born of their nation, and whom they so much
expected, he rejected them. He came to his own, and his
own received him not. John i. 11. When the glorious
dispensation of the gospel came, God passed by the Jews,
and called those who had been heathens, to enjoy the
privileges of it. They were broken off, that the Gentiles
might be graffed on. Rom. xi. 17. She is now called
beloved, that was not beloved. And more are the chil
dren of the desolate, than the children of the married wife.
Isa. liv. 1. The natural children of Abraham are rejected,
and God raises up children to Abraham of stones. That
nation, which was so honoured of God, have now been. for
many ages rejected, and remain dispersed all over the

world, a remarkable monument of divine vengeance.
And now God greatly distinguishes some Gentile nations
from others, and all according to his sovereign pleasure.
2. God exercises his sovereignty in the advantages he
bestows upon particular persons. All need salvation
alike, and all are, naturally, alike undeserving of it; but
he gives some vastly greater advantages for salvation than'
others. To some he assigns their place in pious and
religious families, where they may be well instructed and
educated, and have religious parents to dedicate them to
God, and put up many prayers for them. God places
some under a more powerful ministry than others, and in
places where there are more of the outpourings of the
Spirit of God. To some he gives much more of the
strivings and the awakening influences of the Spirit, than
to others. It is according to his mere sovereign pleasure.
3. God exercises his sovereignty in sometimes bestow
ing salvation upon the low and mean, and denying it to
the wise and great. Christ in his sovereignty passes by
the gates of princes and nobles, and enters some cottage
and dwells there, and has communion with its obscure
inhabitants. God in his sovereignty withheld salvation
from the rich man, who fared sumptuously every day, and
bestowed it on poor Lazarus, who sat begging at his gate.
God in this way pours contempt on princes, and on all
their glittering splendour. So God sometimes passes by
wise men, men of great understanding, learned and great
scholars, and bestows salvation on others of weak under
standing, who only comprehend some of the plainer parts
of Scripture, and the fundamental principles of the chris
tian religion. Yea, there seem to be fewer great men
called, than others. And God in ordering it thus mani
fests his sovereignty. 1 Cor. i. 26, 27, 28. " For ye see
your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after
the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called.
But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to
confound the wise ; and God hath chosen the weak things
of the world to confound the things which are mighty ;
and base things of the world, and things which are
despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not,
to bring to nought things that are."
4. In bestowing salvation on some who have had few
advantages. God sometimes will bless weak means for
producing astonishing effects, when more excellent means
are not succeeded. God sometimes will withhold salva
tion from those who are the children of very pious parents,
and bestow it on others, who have been brought up in
wicked families. Thus we read of a good Abijah in the
family of Jeroboam, and of a godly Hezekiah, the son
of wicked Ahaz, and of a godly Josiah, the son of a
wicked Amon. But on the contrary, of a wicked Amnon
and Absalom, the sons of holy David, and that vile
Manasseh, the son of good Hezekiah. Sometimes some,
who have had eminent means of grace, are rejected, and
left to perish, and others, under far less advantages, are
saved. Thus the scribes and Pharisees, who had so much
light and knowledge of the Scriptures, were mostly re
jected, and the poor ignorant publicans saved. The
greater part of those, among whom Christ was much con
versant, and who heard him preach, and saw him work
miracles from day to day, were left; and the woman of
Samaria was taken, and many other Samaritans at the
same time, who only heard Christ preach, as he occasion
ally passed through their city. So the woman of Canaan
was taken, who was not of the country of the Jews, and
but once saw Jesus Christ. So the Jews, who had seen and
heard Christ, and saw his miracles, and with whom the
apostles laboured so much, were not saved. But the
Gentiles, many of them, who, as it were, but transiently
heard the glad tidings of salvation, embraced them, and
were converted.
5. God exercises his sovereignty in calling some to sal
vation, who have been very heinously wicked, and leaving
others, who have been moral and religious persons. The
Pharisees were a very strict sect among the Jews. Their
religion was extraordinary. Lukexviii.il. They were not
as other men, extortioners, unjust, or adulterers. There
was their morality. They fasted twice a week, and gave
tithes of all that they possessed. There was their religion.
But yet they were mostly rejected, and the publicans, and

SERMON IV.

853

harlots, and openly vicious sort of people, entered into the
kingdom of God before them. Matt. xxi. 31. The apostle
describes his righteousness while a Pharisee. Philip, iii. 6.
" Touching the righteousness which is of the law, blame
less." The rich young man, who came kneeling to Christ,
saying, Good Master, what shall I do, that I may have eter
nal life, was a moral person. When Christ bade him keep
the commandments, he said, and in his own view with
sincerity, " All these have I kept from my youth up."
He had obviously been brought up in a good family, and
was a youth of such amiable manners and correct deport
ment, that it is said, " Jesus beholding him, loved him."
Still he was left ; while the thief, that was crucified with
Christ, was chosen and called, even on the cross. God
sometimes shows his sovereignty by showing mercy to the
chief of sinners, on those who have been murderers, and
profaners, and blasphemers. And even when they are
old, some are called at the eleventh hour. God some
times shows the sovereignty of his grace by showing mercy
to some, who have spent most of their lives in the service
of Satan, and have little left to spend in the service of God.
6. In saving some of those who seek salvation, and
not others. Some who seek salvation, as we know both
from Scripture and observation, are soon converted ; while
others seek a long time, and do not obtain at last. God
helps some over the mountains and difficulties which are
in the way ; he subdues Satan, and delivers them from his
temptations : but others are mined by the temptations
with which they meet. Some are never thoroughly awak
ened ; while to others God is pleased to give thorough
convictions. Some are left to backsliding hearts ; others
God causes to hold out to the end. Some are brought off
from a confidence in their own righteousness ; others
never get over that obstruction in their way, as long as
they live. And some are converted and saved, who never
had so great strivings as some who, notwithstanding, perish.
IV. I come now to give the reasons, why God does thus
exercise his sovereignty in the eternal salvation of the
children of men.
1 . It is agreeable to God's design in the creation of the
universe to exercise every attribute, and thus to manifest
the glory of each of them. God's design in the creation
was to glorify himself, or to make a discovery of the essen
tial glory of his nature. It was fit that infinite glory
should shine forth ; and it was God's original design to
make a manifestation of his glory, as it is. Not that it
was his design to manifest all his glory to the apprehen
sion of creatures ; for it is impossible that the minds of
creatures should comprehend it. But it was his design to
make a true manifestation of his glory, such as should
represent every attribute. ¦ If God glorified one attribute,
and not another, such manifestation of his glory would be
defective; and the representation would not be complete.
If all God's attributes are not manifested, the glory of none
of them is manifested as it is ; for the divine attributes
reflect glory on one another. Thus if God's wisdom be
manifested, and not his holiness, the glory of his wisdom
would not be manifested as it is ; for one part of the glory
of the attribute of divine wisdom is, that it is a holy wis
dom. So if his holiness were manifested, and not his
wisdom, the glory of his holiness would not be manifested
as it is ; for one thing which belongs to the glory of God's
holiness is, that it is a wise holiness. So it is with respect
to the attributes of mercy and justice. The glory of God's
mercy does not appear as it is, unless it is manifested as a
just mercy, or as a mercy consistent with justice. And so
with respect to God's sovereignty, it reflects glory on all
his other attributes. It is part of the glory of God's mercy,
that it is sovereign mercy. So all the attributes of God
reflect glory on one another. The glory of one attribute
cannot be manifested, as it is, without the manifestation of
another. One attribute is defective without another, and
therefore the manifestation will be defective. Hence it
was the will of God to manifest all his attributes. The
declarative glory of God in Scripture is often called God's
name, because it declares his nature. But if his name
does not signify his nature as it is, or does not declare any
attribute, it is not a true name. The sovereignty of God
is one of his attributes, and a part of his glory. • The glory
of God eminently appears in his absolute sovereignty over

all creatures, great and small. If the glory of a prince be
his power and dominion, then the glory of God is his ab
solute sovereignty. Herein appear God's infinite greatness
and highness above all creatures. Therefore it is the will
of God to manifest his sovereignty. And his sovereignty,
like his other attributes, is manifested in the exercise of it.
He glorifies his power in the exercise of power. He glori
fies his mercy in the exercise of mercy. So he glorifies
his sovereignty in the exercise of sovereignty.
2. The more excellent the creature is over whom God
is sovereign, and the greater the matter in which he so
appears, the more glorious is his sovereignty. The so
vereignty of God in his being sovereign over men, is
more glorious than in his being sovereign over the in
ferior creatures. And his sovereignty over angels is
yet more glorious than his sovereignty over men. For
the nobler the creature is, still the greater and higher
doth God appear in his sovereignty over it. It is a greater
honour to a man to have dominion over men, than over
beasts ; and a still greater honour to have dominion over
princes, nobles, and kings, than over ordinary men. So
the glory of God's sovereignty appears in that he is sove
reign over the souls of men, who are so noble and ex
cellent creatures. God therefore will exercise his sove
reignty over them. And the further the dominion of any
one extends over another, the greater will be the honour.
If a man has dominion over another only in some in
stances, he is not therein so much exalted, as in having
absolute dominion over his life, and fortune, and all he
has. So God's sovereignty overmen appears glorious, that
it extends to every thing which concerns them. He may
dispose of them with respect to all that concerns them,
according to his own pleasure. His sovereignty appears
glorious, that it reaches their most important affairs, even
the eternal state and condition of the souls of men. Herein
it appears that the sovereignty of God is without bounds
or limits, in that it reaches to an affair of such infinite im
portance. God, therefore, as it is his design to manifest
his own glory, will and does exercise his sovereignty to
wards men, over their souls and bodies, even in this most
important matter of their eternal salvation. He has mercy
on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he har
dens. APPLICATION.
1. Hence we learn how absolutely we are dependent
on God in this great matter of the eternal salvation of our
souls. We are dependent not only on his wisdom to con
trive a way to accomplish it, and on his power to bring it
to pass, but we are dependent on his mere will and
pleasure in the affair. We depend on the sovereign will
of God for every thing belonging to it, from the founda
tion to the top-stone. It was of the sovereign pleasure of
God, lhat he contrived a way to save any of mankind, and
gave us Jesus Christ, his only-begotten Son, to be our
Redeemer. Why did he look on us, and send us a Sa
viour, and not the fallen angels? It was from the sove
reign pleasure of God. It was of his sovereign pleasure
what means to appoint. His giving us the Bible, and the
ordinances of religion, is of his sovereign grace. • His
giving those means to us rather than to others, his giving
the awakening influences of his Spirit, and his bestowing
saving grace, are all of his sovereign pleasure. When he
says, " Let there be light in the soul of such an one," it
is a word of infinite power and sovereign grace.
2. Let us with the greatest humility adore the awful
and absolute sovereignty of God. As we have just shown,
it is an eminent attribute of the Divine Being, that he is
sovereign over such excellent beings as the souls of men,
and that in every respect, even in that of their eternal sal
vation. The infinite greatness of God, and his exaltation
above us, appears in nothing more, than in his sovereignty.
It is spoken of in Scripture as a great part of his glory.
Deut. xxxii. 39. " See now that I, even I, am he, and
there is no God with me. I kill, and I make alive ; I
wound, and I heal ; neither is there any that can deliver
out of my hand." Psal. cxv. 3. " Our God^is in the
heavens ; he hath done whatsoever he pleased." Daniel
iv. 34, 35. " Whose dominion is an everlasting dominion,

854

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

and his kingdom is from generation to generation. And
all the inhabitants of the earth are reputed as nothing;
and he doeth according to his will in the armies of heaven,
and among the inhabitants of the earth ; and none can
stay his hand, or say unto him, What doest thou?" Our
Lord Jesus Christ praised and glorified the Father for the
exercise of his sovereignty in the salvation of men. Matt.
xi. 25, 26. " I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and
earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and
prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so,
Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight." Let us there
fore give God the glory of his sovereignty, as adoring him,
whose sovereign will orders all things, beholding ourselves
as nothing in comparison with him. Dominion and so
vereignty require humble reverence and honour in the
subject. The absolute, universal, and unlimited sovereign
ty of God requires, that we should adore him with all
possible humility and reverence. It is impossible that
we should go to excess in lowliness and reverence of that
Being who may dispose of us to all eternity, as he pleases.
3. Those who are in a state of salvation are to attribute
it to sovereign grace alone, and to give all the praise to
him, who maketh them to differ from others. Godliness is
no cause for glorying, except it be in God. 1 Cor. i. 29,
30, 31. " That no flesh should glory in his presence. But
of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto
us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and re
demption. That, according as it is written, He that glorieth,
let him glory in the Lord." Such are not, by any means,
in any degree to attribute their godliness, their safe and
happy state and condition, to any natural difference be
tween them and other men, or to any strength or righte
ousness of their own. They have no reason to exalt them
selves in the least degree ; but God is the being whom
they should exalt. They should exalt God the Father,
who chose them in Christ, who set his love upon them,
and gave them salvation, before they were born, and even
before the world was. If they inquire, why God set his
love on them, and chose them rather than others, if they
think they can see any cause out of God, they are greatly
mistaken. They should exalt God the Son, who bore
their names on his heart, when he came into the world,
and hung on the cross, and in whom alone they have
righteousness and strength. They should exalt God the
Holy Ghost, who of sovereign grace has called them out
of darkness into marvellous light ; who has by his own
immediate and free operation, led them into an understand
ing of the evil and danger of sin, and brought them off
from their own righteousness, and opened their eyes to
discover the glory of God, and the wonderful riches of
God in Jesus Christ, and has sanctified them, and made
them new creatures. When they hear of the wickedness
of others, or look upon vicious persons, they should think
how wicked they once were, and how much they provoked
God, and how they deserved for ever to be left by him to
perish in sin, and that it is only sovereign grace which has
made the difference. 1 Cor. vi. 10. Many sorts of sinners
are there enumerated ; fornicators, idolaters, adulterers,
effeminate, abusers of. themselves with mankind. And
then in the eleventh verse, the apostle tells them, " Such
were some of you ; but ye are washed, but ye are sancti
fied, but ye are justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus,
and by the Spirit of our God." The people of God have
the greater cause of thankfulness, more reason to love God,
who hath bestowed such great and unspeakable mercy
upon them of his mere sovereign pleasure.
4. Hence we learn what cause we have to admire the
grace of God, that he should condescend to become bound
to us by covenant ; that he, who is naturally supreme in
his dominion over us, who is our absolute proprietor, and

may do with us as he pleases, and is under no obligation
to us ; that he should, as it were, relinquish his absolute
freedom, and should cease to be merely sovereign in his
dispensations towards believers, when once they have be
lieved in Christ, and should, for their more abundant con
solation, become bound. So that they can challenge
salvation of this Sovereign ; they can demand it through
Christ, as a debt. And it would be prejudicial to the
glory of God's attributes, to deny it to them ; it would be
contrary to his justice and faithfulness. What wonderful
condescension is it in such a Being, thus to become bound
to us, worms of the dust, for our consolation ! He bound
himself by his word, his promise. But he was not satis
fied with that ; but that we might have stronger consola
tion still, he hath bound himself by his oath. Heb. vi.
13, &c. " For when God made promise to Abraham, be
cause he could swear by no greater, he sware by himself;
saying, Surely blessing I will bless thee, and multiplying I
will multiply thee. And so, after he had patiently endured,
he obtained the promise. For men verily swear by the
greater ; and an oath for confirmation is to them an end of
all strife. Wherein God, willing more abundantly to show
unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel,
confirmed it by an oath ; that by two immutable things,
in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have
a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold
upon the hope set before us. Which hope we have as an
anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which enter-
eth into that within the veil ; whither the forerunner is for
us entered, even Jesus, made an high priest for ever after
the order of Melchisedec."
Let us, therefore, labour to submit to the sovereignty of
God. God insists, that his sovereignty be acknowledged
by us, and that even in this great matter, a matter which
so nearly and infinitely concerns us, as our own eternal
salvation. This is the stumbling-block on which thousands
fall and perish ; and if we go on contending with God
about his sovereignty, it will be our eternal min. It is
absolutely necessary that we should submit to God, as our
absolute sovereign, and the sovereign over our souls ; as
one who may have mercy on whom he will have mercy,
and harden whom he will.
5. And lastly. We may make use of this doctrine to
guard those who seek salvation from two opposite extremes
— presumption and discouragement. Do not presume
upon the mercy of God, and so encourage yourself in sin.
Many hear that God's mercy is infinite, and therefore think,
that if they delay seeking salvation for the present, and
seek it hereafter, that God will bestow his grace upon
them. But consider, that though God's grace is sufficient,
yet he is sovereign, and will use his own pleasure whether
he will save you or not. If you put off salvation till here
after, salvation will not be in your power. It will be as a
sovereign God pleases, whether you shall obtain it or not.
Seeing, therefore, that in this affair you are so absolutely
dependent on God, it is best to follow his direction in
seeking it, which is to hear his voice to-day : " To-day if
ye will hear his voice, harden not your heart." Beware
also of discouragement. Take heed of despairing thoughts,
because you are a great sinner, because you have persever
ed so long in sin, have backslidden, and resisted the Holy
Ghost. Remember that, let your case be what it may,
and you ever so great a sinner, if you have not committed
the sin against the Holy Ghost, God can bestow mercy
upon you without the least prejudice to the honour of his
holiness, which you have offended, or to the honour of his
majesty, which you have insulted, or of his justice, which
you have made your enemy, or of his truth, or of any of
his attributes. Let you be what sinner you may, God
can, if he pleases, greatly glorify himself in your salvation.

SERMON V.

855

SERMON V.*

Philippians iii. 17.
Brethren, be followers together qf me, and mark them which
walk so as ye have us for an ensample.
The apostle in the foregoing part of the chapter, had
been telling how he counted all things but loss for the ex
cellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, and in the text
he urges that his example should be followed.
He does this in two ways.
1. He exhorts the Philippian Christians to follow his
example. " Brethren, be followers together of me." He
exhorts them to be followers of him together ; that is, that
they should all follow his example with one heart and
soul, all agreeing in it, and that all, as much as in them
lay, should help and assist each other in it.
2. That they should take particular notice of others that
did so, and put peculiar honour on them ; which is im
plied in the expression in the latter part of the verse,
" mark them which walk so as ye have us for an ensam
ple." Doctrine. We ought to follow the good examples of
the apostle Paul. We are to consider, that the apostle
did not say this of himself from an ambitious spirit, from
a desire of being setup as a pattern, and eyed and imitated
as an example to other Christians. His writings are not
of any private interpretation, but he spake as he was moved
by the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost directed that the
good examples of the apostle Paul should be noticed by
other Christians, and imitated. And we are also to con
sider, that this is not a command to the Philippians only,
to whom the epistle was more immediately directed, but
to all those for whose use this epistle was written, for all
Christians to the end of the world. For though God so
ordered it, that the epistles of the apostles were mostly
written on particular occasions and directed to particular
churches, yet they were written to be of universal use.
And those occasions were so ordered in the wisdom of
Divine Providence, that they are a part of that infallible
rule of faith and manners, which God has given to the
christian church to be their rule in all ages. And the pre
cepts that we find in those epistles, are no more to be re
garded as precepts intended only for those to whom the
epistle was sent, than the ten commandments, that were
spoken from mount Sinai to the children of Israel, are to be
regarded as commands intended only for that people. And
when we are directed to follow the good examples of the
apostle Paul by the Holy Ghost, it is not merely as we
are to imitate whatever we see that is good in any one, let
him be who he may. But there are spiritual obligations
that lie on Christians to follow the good examples of this
great apostle. And it hath pleased the Holy Ghost in an
especial manner to set up the apostle Paul, not only as a
teacher of the christian church, but as a pattern to other
Christians. The greatest example of all, that is set before
us in the Scripture to imitate, is the example of Jesus
Christ, which he set us in his human nature, and when in
his state of humiliation. This is presented to us not only
as a great pattern, but as a perfect rule. And the example
of no man is set forth, as our rule, but the example of
Christ. We are commanded to follow the examples which
God himself set us, or the acts of the divine nature.
Ephes. v. 1. " Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear
children." And Matt. v. 48. " Be ye therefore perfect,
even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." But
the example of Christ Jesus, when on earth, is more espe
cially our pattern. For, though the acts of the divine na
ture have the highest possible perfection, and though his in
imitable perfection is our best example, yet God is so much
above us, his nature so infinitely different from ours, that
it is not possible that his acts should be so accommodated

to our nature and circumstances, as to be an example of so
great and general use, as the perfect example in our nature
which Christ has set us. Christ, though a divine person,
was man, as we are men ; and not only so, but he was, in
many respects, a partaker of our circumstances. He dwelt
among men. He depended on food and raiment, and such
outward supports of life, as we do. He was subject to the
changes of time, and the afflictions and calamities of this
evil world, and to abuse from men's corruptions, and to
temptations from Satan, as we are ; was subject to the
same law and rule that we ate, used the same ordinances,
and had many of our trials, and greater trials than we. So
that Christ's example is the example that is chiefly offered
in Scripture for our imitation. But yet the example of
some that are fallen creatures, as we are, may in some re
spects be more accommodated to our circumstances, and
more fitted for our instructions, than the example of Jesus
Christ. For though he became man as we are, and was
like us, and was in our circumstances in so many re
spects, yet in other things there was a vast difference. He
was the head ofthe church, and we are the members. He
is Lord of all, we are his subjects and disciples. And we
need an example, that shall teach and direct us how to be
have towards Christ our Lord and head. And this we may
have better in some, that have Christ for their Lord as weil
as we, than in Christ himself. But the greatest difference
lies in this, that Christ had no sin, and we all are sinful
creatures, all carry about with us a body of sin and death.
It is said that Christ was made like to us in all things, sin
only excepted. But this was excepted, and therefore there
were many things required of us, of which Christ could
not give us an example. Such as repentance for sin,
brokenness of spirit for sin, mortification of lust, warring
against sin. And the excellent example of some, that are
naturally as sinful as we, has this advantage; that we may
regard it as the example of those, who were naturally every
way in our circumstances, and laboured under the same
natural difficulties, and the same opposition of heart to that
which is good, as ourselves ; which tends to engage us to
give more heed to their example, and the more to en
courage and animate us to strive to follow it. And there
fore we find that the Scripture does not only recommend
the example of Christ, but does also exhibit some mere
men, that are of like passions with ourselves, as patterns
for us to follow. So it exhibits the eminent saints of the
Old Testament, of whom we read in the Scripture, that
they inherit the promises. Heb. vi. 12. " That ye be not
slothful, but followers of them who through faith and
patience inherit the promises." In the eleventh chapter of
Hebrews, a great number of eminent saints are mentioned
as patterns for us to follow. Abraham is, in a particular
manner, set forth as an example in his faith, and as the pat
tern of believers. Rom. iv. 12. " And the father of circum
cision to them, that are not of the circumcision only, but
who also walk in the steps of that faith of our father Abra
ham, which he had, being yet uncircumcised." And so
the prophets of the Old Testament are also recommended
as patterns. James v. 10. " Take, my brethren, the pro
phets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an ex
ample of suffering affliction, and of patience." And so
eminently holy men under the New Testament, apostles
and others, that God sent forth to preach the gospel, are
also examples for Christians to follow. Heb. xiii. 7. " Re
member them that have the rule over you, who have
spoken to you the word of God ; whose faith follow, con
sidering the end of their conversation." But of all mere
men, no one is so often particularly set forth in the Scrip
ture, as a pattern for Christians to follow, as the apostle
Paul. Our observing his holy conversation as our ex
ample, is not only insisted on in the text, but also 1 Cor.
iv. 16. " Wherefore I beseech you, be ye followers of me."

856

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

And xi. 1 . " Be ye followers of me as I also am of Christ."
And 1 Thess. i. 6. Where the apostle commends the
christian Thessalonians for imitating his example ; " and
ye became followers of us." And 2 Thess. iii. 7. he in
sists on this as their duty. " For yourselves know how ye
ought to follow us."
For the more full treatment of this subject I shall,
I. Particularly mention many of the good examples of
the apostle Paul, that we ought to imitate. Which I shall
treat of not merely as a doctrine, but also in the way of
application. II. I shall show under what strict obligation we are to
follow the good examples of this apostle.
I. I shall particularly mention many of those good
examples of the apostle Paul, that we ought to imitate.
And that I may be more distinct, I shall,
1. Mention those things that respect his watchfulness
for the good of his own soul.
2. Those virtues in him that more immediately re
spected God and Christ.
3. Those that more immediately respect men.
4. Those that were exercised in his behaviour, both to
wards God and men.
1. We ought to follow the good example that the
apostle Paul has set us in his seeking the good of his own
soul. First. We should follow him in his earnestness in seek
ing his own salvation. He was not careless and indiffer
ent in this matter ; but the kingdom of heaven suffered
violence from him. He did not halt between two opinions,
or seek with a wavering, unsteady mind, but with the most
full determination and strong resolution. He resolved, if
it could by any means be possible, that he would attain to
the resurrection of the dead. He does not say that he was
determined to attain it, if he could, by means that were not
very costly or difficult, or by labouring for it a little time,
or only now and then, or without any great degree of suf
fering, or without great loss in his temporal interest. But
if by any means he could do it, he would, let the means be
easy or difficult. Let it be a short labour and trial, or a
long one ; let the cross be light or heavy ; it was all one to
his resolution. Let the requisite moans be what they would,
if it were possible, he would obtain it. He did not hesi
tate at worldly losses, for he tells us that he readily suf
fered the loss of all things, that he might win Christ, and
be found in him, and in his righteousness. Philip, iii. 8,
9. It was not with him as it was with the young man,
that came kneeling to Christ to inquire of him what he
should do to inherit eternal life, and when Christ said, Go
and sell all that thou hast and give to the poor, he went
away sorrowful. He was not willing to part with all. If
Christ had bid him sell half, it may be he would have
complied with it. He had a great desire to secure salva
tion. But the apostle Paul did not content himself with
wishing. He was resolved, if it were possible, that he
would obtain it. And when it was needful that he should
lose worldly good, or when any great suffering was in his
way, it was no cause of hesitation to him. He had been
in very comfortable and honourable circumstances among
the Jews. He had received the best education that was
to be had among them, being brought up at the feet of
Gamaliel, and was regarded as a very learned young man.
His own nation, the Jews, had a high esteem of him, and
he was esteemed for his moral and religious qualifications
among them. But when he could not hold the outward
benefit of these things and win Christ, he despised them
totally, he parted with all his credit and honour. He made
nothing of them, that he might win Christ. And instead
of being honoured and loved, and living in credit, as before
among his own nation, he made himself the object of their
universal hatred. He lost all, and the Jews hated him,
and persecuted him every where. And when great suffer
ings were in the way, he willingly made himself conform
able to Christ's death, that he might have a part in his
resurrection. He parted with his honour, his ease, his
former friends and former acquaintance, his worldly goods
and every thing else, and plunged himself into a state of
extreme labour, contempt, and suffering ; and in this way
he sought the kingdom of heaven. He acted in this mat
ter very much as one that is running a race for some great

Erize, who makes running his great and only business, til,
e has reached the end of the race, and strains every nerve
and sinew, and suffers nothing to divert him, and will not
stand to listen to what any one says to him, but presses
forward. Or as a man that is engaged in battle, sword in
hand, with strong and violent enemies, that seek his life
who exerts himself to his utmost, as for his life. 1 Cor. ix!
26. " I therefore so run, not as uncertainly ; so fight I,
not as one that beateth the air." When fleshly appetites
stood in the way, however importunate they were, he ut
terly denied them and renounced them ; they were no im
pediment in the way of his thorough pursuit of salvation.
He would not be subject to the appetites of his body, but
made them subject to his soul. 1 Cor. ix. 27. " I keep
under my body, and bring it into subjection." Probably
there never was a soldier, when he bore his part in storm
ing a city, that acted with greater resolution and violence,
as it were forcing his way through all that opposed him,
than the apostle Paul in seeking the kingdom of heaven,
We have not only his own word for it ; the history we
have of his life, written by St. Luke, shows the same.
Now those, who seek their salvation, ought to follow this
example. Persons who are concerned for their salvation,
sometimes inquire what they shall do. Let them do as
did the apostle Paul ; seek salvation in the way he did,
with the like violence and resolution. Those that make
this inquiry, who are somewhat anxious year after year,
and complain that they have not obtained any comfort,
would do well to ask themselves, whether they seek sal
vation in any measure in this way, with that resolution
and violence of which he set them an example. Alas, are
they not very far indeed from it ? Can it in any proper
sense be said, that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence
at their hands ?
Secondly. The apostle did not only thus earnestly seek
salvation before his conversion and hope, but afterwards
also. What he says in the 3rd chapter of Philippians of
his suffering the loss of all things, that he might be found
in Christ, and its being the one thing that he did to seek
salvation ; and also what he says of his so running as not
in vain, but as resolving to win the prize of salvation, and
keeping under his body that he might not be a castaway ;
were long after his conviction, and after he had renounced
all hope of his own good estate by nature. If being a
convinced sinner excuses a man from seeking salvation
any more, or makes it reasonable that he should cease his
earnest care and labour for it, certainly the apostle might
have been excused, when he had not only already attained
true grace, but such eminent degrees of it. To see one of
the most eminent saints that ever lived, if not the most
eminent of all, so exceedingly engaged in seeking his own
salvation, ought for ever to put to shame those who are a
thousand degrees below him, and are but mere infants to
him, if they have any grace at all ; who yet excuse them
selves from using any violence after the kingdom of heaven
now, because they have attained already, who free them
selves from the burden of going on earnestly to seek sal
vation with this, that they have finished the work, they
have obtained a hope. The apostle, as eminent as he was,
did not say within himself, " I am converted, and so am
sure of salvation. Christ has promised it me ; why need
I labour any more to secure it '. Yea, I am not only con
verted, but I have obtained great degrees of grace. But
still he is violent after salvation. He did not keep look
ing back on the extraordinary discoveries he enjoyed at
his first conversion, and the past great experience he had
had from time to time. He did not content himself with
the thought, that he possessed the most wonderful testi
monies of God's favour, and of the love of Christ, already,
that ever any enjoyed, even to his being caught up to the
third heavens ; but he forgot the things that were behind.
He acted as though he did not consider that he had yet
attained an interest in Christ. Phil. iii. 11, 12, 1 3, 14. " If
by any means I might attain untb the resurrection of the
dead ; not as though I had already attained, either were
already perfect ; but I follow after, if that I may appre
hend that for which I am apprehended of Christ Jesus.
Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended ; but
this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are be
hind, and reaching forth to those things which are before

SERMON V.

857

1 press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling
of God in Christ Jesus." The apostle still sought that he
might win Christ and his righteousness, and attain to his
resurrection, not as though he had attained it already, or
had already obtained a title to the crown. And this is
especially the thing in which he calls on us to imitate his
example in the text. It was not because Paul was at a
loss whether he was truly converted or not, that he was
still so earnest in seeking salvation. He not only thought
that he was converted, and should go to heaven when he
died, but he knew and spake particularly about it in this
very epistle, in the twenty-first verse of the first chapter.
" For me to live is Christ, but to die is gain." And in
the foregoing verse he says, " According to my earnest ex
pectation and my hope, that in nothing I shall be ashamed,
but that with aU boldness, as always, so now also Christ
shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life or
by death." The apostle knew that though he was con
verted, yet there remained a great work that he must do,
in order to his salvation. There was a narrow way to
eternal glory, through which he must pass, and never
could come to heaven in any other way. i'.He knew it was
absolutely necessary for him earnestly to seek salvation
still ; he knew there was no going to heaven in a slothful
way. And therefore he did not seek salvation the less
earnestly, for his having hope and assurance, but a great
deal more. We nowhere read so much of his earnestness
and violence for the kingdom of heaven before he was
converted, as afterwards. The apostle's hope was not of
a nature to make him slothful ; it had a contrary effect.
The assurance he had of victory, together with the neces
sity there was of fighting, engaged him to fight not as one
that beat the air, but as one that wrestled with principali
ties and powers. Now this example the apostle does es
pecially insist in the text that we ought to follow. And
this should induce all present who-think themselves con
verted, to inquire whether they seek salvation never the
less earnestly, because they think it is well with them,
and that they are now sure of heaven. Most certainly
if the apostle was in the right way of acting, we in this
place are generally in the wrong. For nothing is more
apparent than that it is not thus with the generality of
professors here, but that it is a common thing after they
think they are safe, to be far less diligent and earnest in
religion than before.
Thirdly. The apostle did not only diligently seek hea
ven after he knew he was converted, but was earnestly
cautious lest he should be damned ; as appears by the
passage already cited. " But I keep under my body and
bring it into subjection, lest by any means, when I have
preached to others, I myself should be a castaway." Here
you see the apostle is very careful lest he should be a
castaway, and denies his carnal appetites, and mortifies his
flesh, for that reason. He did not say, " I am safe, I am
sure I shall never be lost ; why need I take any further
care respecting it?" Many think because they suppose
themselves converted, and so safe, that they have nothing
to do with the awful threatenings of God's word, and
those terrible denunciations of damnation that are con
tained in it. When they hear them', they hear them as
things which belong only to others, and not at all to them
selves, as though there were no application of what is re
vealed in the Scripture respecting hell, to the godly. And
therefore, when they hear awakening sermons about the
awful things that God has threatened to trie wicked, they
do not hear them for themselves, but only for others. But
it was not thus with this holy apostle, who certainly was
as safe from hell, and as far from a damnable state, as any
of us. He looked upon himself as still nearly concerned
in God's threatenings of eternal damnation, notwithstand
ing all his hope, and all his eminent holiness, and therefore
gave great diligence, that he might avoid eternal damna
tion. For he considered that eternal misery was as cer
tainly connected with a wicked life as ever it was, and
that it was absolutely necessary that he should still keep
under his body, and bring it into subjection, in order that
he might not be damned ; because indulging the lusts of
the body and being damned were more surely connected
together. The apostle knew that this conditional pro
position was true concerning him, as ever it was. " If I

live wickedly, or do not live in a way of universal obe
dience to God's commands, I shall certainly be a cast
away." This is evident, because the apostle mentions a
proposition of this nature concerning himself in that very
chapter where he says, he kept under his body lest he
should be a castaway. 1 Cor. ix. 16. " For though I preach
the gospel, I have nothing to glory of, for necessity is laid
upon me ; yea, woe is unto me if I preach not the gospel."
What necessity was there upon the apostle to preach the
gospel, though God had commanded him, for he was
already converted, and was safe ; and if he had neglected
to preach the gospel, how could he have perished after he
was converted? But yet this conditional proposition was
still true ; if he did not live a life of obedience to God,
woe would be to him ; woe to him, if he did not preach
the gospel. The connexion still held. It is impossible a
man should go any where else than to hell in a way of dis
obedience to God. . And therefore he deemed it necessary
for him to preach the gospel on that account, and on the
same account he deemed it necessary to keep under his
body, lest he should be a castaway. The connexion be
tween a wicked 1 ife and damnation is so certain, that if a
man lives a wicked life, it proves that all his supposed
experiences are nothing. If a man at the last day be
found a worker of iniquity, nothing else will be inquired
of about him. Let him pretend what he will, Christ will
say to him and all others like him, " Depart from me, I
know you not, ye that work iniquity." And God has re
vealed these threatenings and this connexion, not only to
deter wicked men, but also godly men, from sin. And
though God will keep men that are converted from damn
ation, yet this is the means by which he will keep thein
from it; viz. he will keep them from a wicked life. And
though he will keep them from a wicked life, yet this is
one means by which he will keep them from it, viz. by
their own caution to avoid damnation, and by his threaten
ings of damnation if they should live a wicked life. We
have another remarkable instance in Job, who was an
eminently holy man, yet avoided sin with the utmost care,
because he would avoid destruction from God. Job xxxi.
Surely we have as much cause to be cautious, that we do
not expose ourselves to destruction from God, as holy Job
had. We have not a greater stock of goodness than he.
The apostle directs Christians to work out their own sal
vation with fear and trembling. Phil. ii. 12. And it is
spoken of as the character of a true saint, that he trembles
at God's word ; Isa. lxvi. 2. which is to tremble especially
at the awful threatenings of it, as Job did. Whereas the
manner of many now is, whenever they think they are
converted, to throw by those threatenings of God's word,
as if they had no more to do with them, because they sup
pose they are converted, and out of danger. Christ gave
his disciples, even those of them that were converted, as
well as others, directions to strive for salvation ; because
broad was the way that leads to destruction, and men are
so apt to walk in that way and be damned. Matt. vii. 13,
14. " Enter ye in at the strait gale; for wide is the gate,
and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and
many there be which go in thereat ; because strait is the
gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and
few there be that find it."
Fourthly. The apostle did not seek salvation by his
own righteousness. Though his sufferings were so very
great, his labours so exceedingly abundant, yet he never
accounted them as righteousness. He trod it under his
feet, as utterly insufficient to recommend him to God.
He gave diligence that he might be found in Christ, not
having on his own righteousness, which is of God, through
faith, as in the foregoing part of the chapter from which
the text is taken, beginning with the fourth verse.
" Though I might also have confidence in the flesh. If
any other man thinketh he hath whereof he might trust in
the flesh, I more ; circumcised the eighth day, of the stock
of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, an Hebrew of the
Hebrews; as touching the law, a Pharisee; concerning
zeal, persecuting the church ; touching the righteousness
which is in the law, blameless. But what things were
gain to me, those 1 counted loss for Christ. Yea, doubt
less, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of
the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord ; for whom I

858

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them
but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him,
not having on mine own righteouness, which is of the law,
but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righte
ousness which is of God by faith : that I may know him,
and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of
his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death ; if
by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of the
dead. Not as though I had already attained, either were
already perfect; but I follow after, if that I may apprehend
that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus."
Fifthly. In those earnest labours which he performed,
he had respect to the recompence of the reward. He did
it for an incorruptible crown. 1 Cor. ix. 25. He sought a
high degree of glory, for he knew the more he laboured
the more he should be rewarded, as appears from what he
tells the Corinthians. " He that soweth sparingly, shall
reap also sparingly ; and he that sofveth bountifully, shall
reap also bountifully." And 1 Cor. iii. 8. " Every man
shalf receive his own reward, according to his own labour."
That he had respect to that crown of glory, which his
Master had promised, in those great labours and sufferings,
is evident from what he savs to Timothy, a little before his
death, 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. " I have fought a good fight, I
have finished my course, I have kept the faith ; henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which
the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that dav ;
and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his
appearing." All Christians should follow his example in
this also; they should not content themselves with the
thought, that they have goodness enough to carry them to
heaven, but should earnestly seek high degrees of glory ;
for the higher degrees of glory are promised to extraordinary
labours for God, for no other reason, but that we should
seek them.
2. I proceed to mention some of the virtues of Paul,
that more immediately respect God and Christ, in which
we ought to follow his example.
First. He was strong in faith. It may be truly said
of him that he lived by faith. His faith seemed to be
even without the least appearance of diffidence or doubt
in his words or actions, but all seemed to proclaim, that
he had God and Christ and the invisible worid continually
in view. Such a faith, that was in continual exercise in
him, he professes, in 2 Cor. v. 6, 7, 8. " Therefore we are
always confident, knowing that while we are at home in
the body, we are absent from the Lord. For we walk by
faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and willing
rather to be absent from the body, and to be present
with the Lord." He always speaks of God and Christ
and things invisible and future, as if he certainly knew
them, and then saw them as fully and certainly as we
see any thing that is immediately before our bodily
eyes. He spoke as though he certainly knew, that God's
promise of eternal life should be accomplished, and
gives this as the reason why he laboured so abundantly,
and endured all manner of temporal sufferings and death,
and was always delivered unto death for Christ's sake.
2 Cor. iv. 11, &c. " For we which live are always deliver
ed unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus
might be made manifest in our mortal flesh." He speaks
of his earnest expectation and hope of the fulfilment of
God's promises. And a little before his death, when he
was a prisoner, and when he knew that he was like to bear
the trial of martyrdom, which is the greatest trial of faith,
he expresses his faith in Christ in the strongest terms.
2 Tim. i. 12. "For the which cause I also suffer these
things ; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom
I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep
that which I have committed unto him against that day."
Such an example may well make us ashamed ; for how
weak and unsteaoy is the faith of most Christians! If now
and then there seems to be a lively exercise of faith, giv
ing the person at that time a firm persuasion and con
fidence ; yet how short are such exercises, how soon do
they vanish ! How often is faith shaken with one tempta
tion ; how often are the exercises of it interrupted with
doubting, and how much is exhibited of a diffident, vibrat
ing spirit ! How little does our faith accomplish in times
of trial ; how often and how easily is our confidence in

God shaken and interrupted, and how frequently does un
belief prevail ! This is much to the dishonour of our Sa
viour Jesus Christ, as well as very painful to us. What a
happy and glorious lot it is to live such a life of faith, as
Paul lived ! How far did he soar on the wings of his strong
faith above those little difficulties, that continually molest
us, and are ready to overcome us! Seeing we have such a
blessed example set before us in the Scriptures, let it
prompt us earnestly to seek, that we may soar higher also.
Secondly. Another virtue in which we should follow
his example, is his great love to Christ. The Corinthians,
who saw how the apostle acted, how he laboured, and .
how he suffered, and could see no worldly motive, were
astonished. They wondered what it was, that so wonder
fully influenced and actuated the man. The apostle says,
that he was a spectacle to the world. But this was the
immediate principle that moved him ; his strong, his in
tense love to his glorious Lord and Master. This love
constrained him, that he could do nothing else than strive
and labour and seek for his salvation. This account he
gives of it himself. 2 Cor. v. 14. "The love of Christ
constraineth us." He had such a delight in the Lord Jesus
Christ, and in the knowledge and contemplation of him,
that he tells us, he "counted all things but loss for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus." He speaks
in very positive terms. He does not say merely, that he
hopes he loves Christ, so as to despise other things in com
parison of the knowledge of him ; but " yea, doubtless, I
count all things but loss for the excellency of the know
ledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord." And he assigns this
reason why he even gloried in his sufferings for Christ's
sake ; because the love of God was shed abroad in his
heart, by the Holy Ghost. Rom. v. 5. This expression
seems to imply that he sensibly felt that holy affection,
sweetly and powerfully diffused in his soul, like some
precious, fragrant ointment. And how does he triumph in
his love to Christ in the midst of his sufferings ! Rom. viii.
35, 36, 37. " Who shall separate us from the love of
Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or
famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword ? As it is written,
For thy sake we are killed ail the day long ; we are ac
counted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things
we are more than conquerors, through him lhat hath loved
us." May not this make us ashamed of our cold, dead
hearts that we hear so often of Christ, and of his glorious
excellencies and his wonderful love, with so little emotion,
our hearts, being very commonly frozen up like a clod of
earth by worldly affections. And it may be that now and-
then with much difficulty we persuade ourselves to do a
little or expend a little for the advancement of Christ's
kingdom ; and then are ready to boast of it, that we have
done so nobly. Such superior examples as we have are
enough to make us for ever blush for our own attainments
in the love of Christ, and rouse us earnestly to follow after
those who have gone so far beyond us.
Thirdly. The apostle lived in a day when Christianity
was greatly despised ; yet he was not ashamed of the gos
pel of Christ. Christians were every where despised by
the great men of the world. Almost all those that made
anv figure in the world, men in honourable stations, men
of learning, and men of wealth, despised Christianity, and
accounted it a mean, contemptible thing to be a Christian,
a follower and worshipper of a poor, crucified man. To
be a Christian was regarded as what ruined a man's repu
tation. Christians were every where looked upon as fools,
and were derided and mocked. They were the meanest of
mankind, the offscouring of the world. This was a great
temptation to Christians to be ashamed ofthe gospel. And
the apostle Paul was more especially in such circum
stances, as exposed him to this temDtation. For before he
was a Christian, he was in great reputation among his own
countrymen. He was esteemed a young man of more
than ordinary proficiency in learning, and was a man of
high distinction among the Pharisees, a class of men of the
first standing among the Jews. In times when religion is
much despised, great men are more ready to be ashamed
of it than others. Many ofthe great seem to think, that to
appear religious men would make them look little. They
do not know how to comply with showing a devout spirit,
a spirit of supreme love to God, and a strict regard to

SERMON V.

859

God's commands. But yet the apostle was not ashamed
ofthe gospel of Christ any where, or before any person,
He was not ashamed of it among his own countrymen, the
Jews, before their rulers, and scribes, and great men, but
ever boldly professed it, and confronted them in their op
position. When he was at Athens, the chief seat of learn
ing and of learned men in the world, though the learned
men and philosophers there despised his doctrine, and
called him a babbler for preaching the gospel ; yet he felt
no shame, but boldly disputed with and confounded those
great philosophers, and converted some of them. And
when he came to Rome, the metropolis and mistress of the
world, where resided the emperor, and senators, and the chief
rulers ofthe world, he was not ashamed ofthe gospel there.
He tells the Romans ; " I am ready to preach the gospel to
you that are at Rome also. • For I am not ashamed of the
gospel of Christ ; for it is the power of God unto salvation
to every one that believeth." The apostle was greatly de
rided and despised for preaching a crucified Jesus. 1 Cor.
iv. 13. " We are made as the filth of the world, and are
the offscouring of all things unto this day." And in the
tenth verse he says, " We are fools for Christ's sake."
They were every where accounted and called fools. Yet
the apostle was so far from being ashamed of the crucified
Jesus, that he gloried in him above all things. Gal. vi. 14.
" God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our
Lord Jesus Christ." Here is an example for us to follow,
if at any time we fall in among those who hold religion in
contempt, and will despise us for our pretensions to reli
gion, and will be ready to deride us for being so precise,
and look upon us as fools ; that we may not be ashamed
of religion, and yield to sinful compliances with vain and
loose persons, lest we should appear singular, and be
looked upon as ridiculous. Such a meanness of spirit
possesses many persons, who are not worthy to be called
Christians ; and are such as Christ will be ashamed of
when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy
angels. Fourthly. Another virtue in which we ought to follow
the apostle, was his contempt of the world, and his hea-
venly-mindedness. He contemned all the vain enjoyments
ofthe world. He despised its riches. Acts xx. 33. " I
have coveted no man's silver, or gold, or apparel." He
despised the pleasures of the world. " I keep under my
body." The apostle's pleasures were in the sufferings of
his body, instead of the gratification of its carnal appetites.
2 Cor. xii. 10. " Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities,
in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses,
for Christ's sake." He despised the honours ofthe world.
1 Thess. ii. 6. " Nor of men sought we glory ; neither of
you, nor yet of others." He declares that the world was
crucified unto him, and he unto the world. These were
not the things that the apostle sought, but the things that
were above, that were out of sight to other men. 2 Cor.
iv. 18. " While we look not at the things which are seen,
but at the things which are not seen." He longed greatly
after heaven. 2 Cor. v. 4. " For we that are in this taber
nacle do groan, being burdened ; not for that we would be
unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swal
lowed up in life." And he tells us, that he knew no man
after the flesh ; that is, he did not look upon the men or
things of this world, or regard them as related to the world,
or as they respected the present life ; but he considered
all men and aU things as they had relation to a spiritual
nature, and to another world. In this the apostle acted as
becomes a Christian ; for Christians, those that are indeed
so, are people that belong not to this world, and therefore,
it is very unbecoming in them to have their minds taken
up about these things. The example of Paul may make
all such persons ashamed, who have their minds chiefly
occupied about the things of the world, about gaining
estates, or acquiring honours ; and yet would be accounted
fellow-disciples with the apostle, partakers of the same
labours, and fellow-heirs of the same heavenly inheritance.
And it should prompt us to strive for more indifference to
the world, and for more heavenly-mindedness.
Fifthly. Wre ought also to follow the example of the
apostle in his abounding in prayer and praise. He was
very earnest, and greatly engaged in those duties, and
continued in them, as appears from many passages. Rom.

i. 8. "First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for
you all, that your faith is spoken of throughout the whole
world. For God is my witness, whom I serve with my
spirit in the gospel of his Son, that without ceasing I make
mention of you always in my prayers." Eph. i. 15,
16. "Wherefore I also, after 1 heard of your faith in the
Lord Jesus and love unto all the saints, cease not to give
thanks 'for you, making mention of you in my prayers."
Col. i. '3. "We give thanks to God, and the Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ, praying always for you." 1
Thess. i. 2, 3. " WTe give thanks to God always for
you all, making mention of you in our prayers ; re
membering without ceasing your work of faith and labour
of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ,
in the sight of God and our Father." And chapter iii. 9,
10. "For what thanks can we render to God again for
you, for all the joy wherewith we joy for your sakes be
fore our God ; night and day praying exceedingly, that
we might see your face, and might perfect that which is
lacking in your faith?" 2 Tim. i. 3. "I thank God,
whom I serve from my forefathers with pure conscience,
that without ceasing I have remembrance of thee in my
prayers, night and day."
Sixthly. We ought to follow him in his contentment
under the allotments of Divine Providence. He was the
subject of a vast variety of dispensations of Providence.
He went through a great many changes, and was almost
continually in suffering circumstances, sometimes in one
respect, sometimes in another, and sometimes the subject
of a great many kinds of suffering together. But yet he
had attained to such a degree of submission to the will of
God, as to be contented in every condition, and under all
dispensations towards him. Phil. iv. 11, 12, 13. "Not
that I speak m respect of want, for I have learned in
whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know
both how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Every
where, and in all things, I am instructed both to be full
and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I
can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."
What a blessed temper and disposition of mind was this
to which Paul had arrived ; and how happy is that man
of whom it can now be said with truth ! He is, as it were,
out the reach of every evil. Nothing can touch him so as
to disturb his rest, for he rests in every thing that God orders.
Seventhly. We should follow the apostle in his great
caution iii giving an account of his experience ; not to re
present more of himself in his words, than men should
see in his deeds. In 2 Corinthians he gives somewhat of
an account how he had been favoured with visions and
revelations, and had been caught up to the third heavens.
And in the sixth verse, intimating that he could relate more,
he breaks off, and forbears to say any thing further respect
ing his experience. And he gives this reason for it ; viz.
that he would avoid, in what he relates of himself, giving
occasion for any one to be disappointed in him, in expect
ing more from him, by his own account of his experience
and revelations, than he should see or hear of him in his
conversation. His words are, "for though I would desire
to glory, I shall not be a fool ; for I will say the truth ;
but now I forbear, lest any man should think of me above
that which he seeth me to be, or that he heareth of me."
Some may wonder at this in such a man as the apostle,
and may say, Why should a man so eminent in his conver
sation, be so cautious in this matter ? Why need he be
afraid to declare all the extraordinary things that he had
witnessed, since his life was so agreeable, so eminently an
swerable to his experience ? But yet you see the apostle
forbore upon this very account. He knew there was
great need of caution in this matter. He knew that if in
giving an account of his extraordinary revelations, he
should give rise to an expectation of too great things in his
conversation, and should not live answerably to that ex
pectation, it would greatly wound religion, fie knew that
its enemies would be ready to say presently, " Who is
this ? Tlie man that gives so extraordinary an account of
his visions and revelations, and peculiar tokens of God s
favour to hiin ; does he live no more conformably to it ?
But if such a man as the apostle, so eminent in his life,
was so cautious in this respect; surely we have need to be
cautious, who fail so much more in our example than he

860

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

did, and in whose conversation the enemy may find so
much more occasion to speak reproachfully of religion.
This teaches us that it would be better to refrain wholly
from boasting of our experience, than to represent our
selves as better than our deeds and conversation represent
us. For men will compare one with the other. And if
they do not see a correspondence between them, this will
be much more to the dishonour of God, than our account
will be to his honour. Let Christians, therefore, be warned
to be ever cautious in this respect, after the great example
of the apostle.
3. I shall mention some of those virtues of the apostle,
that more immediately respected men, in which we ought
to follow his example.
First. His meekness under abuses, and his love to his
enemies. There were multitudes that hated him, but
there is no appearance of his hating any. The greater
part of the world where he went, were his enemies. But
tie was the friend of every one, and laboured and prayed
earnestly for the good of all. And when he was re
proached and derided and buffeted, still it was with
meekness and gentleness of spirit that he bore all, and
wished well to them none the less, and sought their good.
1 Cor. iv. 12, 13. " Being reviled, we bless; being
persecuted, we suffer it ; being defamed, we entreat." In
that period of his great sufferings when he went up to
Jerusalem, and there was such an uproar about him, and
the people were in so furious a rage against him, eagerly
thirsting for his blood ; he discovered no anger or ill wiil
towards his persecutors. At that time when he was a
prisoner through their malice, and stood before king
Agrippa, and Agrippa said, "Almost thou persuadest me
to be a Christian ; and his blood-thirsty enemies were
standing by ; he replied, " I would to God, that not only
thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost
and altogether such as I am, except these bonds." He
wished that his accusers, and those who had bound them
selves with an oath that they would neither eat nor drink
till they had killed him, had all of them as great privileges
and as much of the favour of heaven as himself; and
that they were altogether as he was, except his bonds and
imprisonment, and those afflictions which they had brought
upon him. fie did not desire that they should be like
him in that affliction, though it was the fruit of their own
cruelty. And when some of the Corinthians, whom he
had instructed and converted from heathenism, had dealt
ill by him, had hearkened to some false teachers, that had
been among them, who hated and reproached the apostle ;
he tells them,"in 2 Cor. xii. 15. notwithstanding these
abuses, that still he would very gladly spend and be
spent for them, though the more abundantly he loved
them, the less he should be loved by them. If they re
turned him no thanks for his love, but only ill will and ill
treatment, still he stood ready to spend and be spent for
them. And though the apostle was so hated, and had
suffered so many abuses from the unbelieving Jews, yet
how does he express his love to them ? He prayed earnestly
for them. Rom. x. 1. "Brethren, my heart's desire and
prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved."
And he went mourning for them. He went about with a
heavy heart, and with continual grief and sorrow, from
compassion for them, under the calamities of which they
were the subjects ; and he declares in the most solemn
manner, that he had so great desire for their salvation, that
he could find it in his heart to wish himself accursed from
Christ for them, and to be offered up a sacrifice, if that
might be a means of their salvation. Rom. ix. 1, 2, 3.
We are to understand it of a temporal curse. He could
be willing to die an accursed death, and so be made a
curse for a time, as Christ was, if that might be a means
of salvation to them. How are those reproved by this,
who, when they are abused and suffer reproach or injury,
have thereby indulged a spirit of hatred against their neigh
bour, a prejudice whereby they are always apt to entertain
a distrust, and to seek and embrace opportunities against
them, and to be sorry for their prosperity, and glad at their
disappointments. Secondly. He delighted in peace. When any conten
tion happened among Christians, he was exceedingly
grieved by it. As when he heard of the contentions that

broke out in the Corinthian church. He intimates to the
Philippians, how he should rejoice at their living in love
and peace, and therefore earnestly entreats them that they
should so live. Philip, ii. 1,2. "If there be therefore
any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any
fellowship of the Spirit, if any bowels and mercies, fulfil
ye my joy, that ye be like-minded, having the same love,
being of one accord, of one mind." And he studied
those things that should make for peace. To that end he
yielded to every one as much as possible in those things
that were lawful, and complied with the weakness and
humours of others oftentimes, for the sake of peace. He
declares that though he was free from all men, yet he had
made himself servant of all. To the Jews he became as
a Jew ; to them that were under the law, as under the
law ; to them that were without law, as without law ; to
the weak he became as weak. He rather chose to please
others than himself, for the sake of peace, and the good
of their souls. 1 Cor. x. 33. " Even as I please all men
in all things, not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of
many, that they may be saved."
Thirdly. He was of a most tender compassionate spirit
towards any that were in affliction. He showed such a
spirit especially in the case of the incestuous Corinthian.
The crime was very great, and the fault of the church was
great in suffering such wickedness among them, and this
occasioned the apostle to write with some sharpness to
them respecting it. But when the apostle perceived that
his reproof was laid to heart by the Corinthian Christians,
and that they repented and their hearts were filled with
sorrow, though he rejoiced at it, yet he was so affected
with their sorrow, that his heart yearned towards them,
and he was almost ready to repent that he had written so
severely to them. He was full of concern about it, lest
his former letter should have filled them with overmuch
sorrow. " For though I made you sorry with a letter, I
do not repent, though I did repent ; for I perceive that
the same epistle hath made you sorry, though it were but
for a season." So he had compassion for the incestuous
man, though he had been guilty of so vile a crime, and
was greatly concerned that he should be comforted.
Whenever any Christian suffered or was hurt, the apostle
says he felt it and suffered himself. 2 Cor. xi. 29. " Who
is weak, and I am not weak ? who is offended, and I
burn not?"
Fourthly. He rejoiced at others' prosperity and joy.
When he saw the soul of any one comforted, the apostle
was a sharer with him ; his soul was comforted also.
When he saw any Christian refreshed in his spirit, his
own spirit was refreshed. 2 Cor. vii. 6, 7. " Neverthe
less, God that comforteth those that are cast down, com
forted us by the coming of Titus ; and not by his coming
only, but by the consolation wherewith he was comforted
in you, when he told us your earnest desire, your mourn
ing, your fervent mind toward me, so that I rejoiced the
more." " Therefore we were comforted in your comfort ;
yea, and exceedingly the more joyed we for the joy of
Titus, because his spirit was refreshed by you all."
Fifthly. He delighted in the fellowship of God's peo
ple. He longed after them when absent. Philip, i. 8.
" For God is my record how greatly I long after you in
the bowels of Christ." And also, " Therefore, my bre
thren, dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and crown."
So Rom. i. 11, 12. " For I long to see you, that I may
impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end ye may be
established ; that is, that I may be comforted together with
you by the mutual faith both of you and me."
Sixthly. He was truly courteous in his behaviour to
wards others. Though he was so great a man, and had
so much honour put upon him of God, yet he was full of
courtesy towards all men, rendering to all suitable re
spect. Thus when he was called before Jewish or hea
then magistrates, he treated them with the honour and
respect due to their places. When the Jews took him in
the temple, though they behaved themselves more like
devils than men, yet he addresses them in terms of high
respect, " Men, brethren, and fathers, hear ye my defence :"
calling the common Jews his brethren, and saluting the
elders and scribes with the title of fathers, though they
were a body of infidels. So when he pleads his cause be-

SERMON V.

861

fore Festus, a heathen governor, he gives him the title that
belonged to him in his station ; calling him, " Most noble
Festus." His courtesy also appears in his salutations in
his epistles. He is particularly careful to mention many
persons, directing that his salutations should be given to
them. Such a degree of courtesy, in so great a person as
this apostle, reproves all those professing Christians, who,
though far below him, are not courteous and respectful in
their behaviour to their neighbours, and especially to their
superiors. Incivility is here reproved, and the too common
neglect of Christians is reproved, who do not take strict
care, that their children are taught good manners, and
politeness, and brought up in a respectful and courteous
behaviour towards others.
4. I shall mention those virtues of the apostle that
respected both God and men, in which we should imitate
his example.
First. He was a man of a most public spirit ; he was
greatly concerned for the prosperity of Christ's kingdom,
and the good of his church. We see a great many men
wholly engaged in pursuit of their worldly interests : many
who are earnest in the pursuit of their carnal pleasures,
many whoare eagerinthe pursuit of honours, and many who
are violent in the pursuit of gain ; but we probably never
saw any man more engaged to advance his estate, nor
more taken up with his pleasures, nor more greedy oi.
honour, than the apostle Paul was about the flourishing of
Christ's kingdom, and the good of the souls of men. The
things that grieve other men are outward crosses ; losses
in estates, or falling under contempt, or bodily sufferings.
But these things grieved not him. He made little account
of them. The things that grieved him, were those that
hurt the interests of religion ; and about those his tears
were shed. Thus he was exceedingly grieved, and wept
greatly, for the corruptions that had crept into the church
of Corinth, which was the occasion of his writing his first
epistle to them. 2 Cor. ii. 4. " For out of much affliction
and anguish of heart, I wrote unto you, with many tears."
The things about which other men are jealous, are their
worldly advantages and pleasures. If these are threatened,
their jealousy is excited, since they are above all things
dear to them. But the things that kindled the apostle's
jealousy, were those that seemed to threaten the interests
of religion, and the good of the church : 2 Cor. xi. 2, 3.
" For I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy ; for I
have espoused you to one husband, that I may present
you as a chaste virgin to Christ. But I fear, lest by any
means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtlety,
so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that
is in Christ." The things at which other men rejoice are
their amassing earthly treasures, their being advanced to
honours, their being possessed of outward pleasures and
delights. But these excited not the apostle's joy; but
when he saw or heard of any thing by which the interests
of religion were promoted, and the church of Christ pros
pered, then he rejoiced : 1 Thess. i. 3. " Remembering
without ceasing your work of faith and labour of love,
and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the
sight of God and our Father." And chapter ii. 20. " Ye
are our glory and joy." He rejoiced at those things, how
ever dear they cost him, how much soever he lost by them
in his temporal interest, if the welfare of religion and the
good of souls were promoted ; Phil. ii. 16, 17. " Holding
forth the word of life, that I may rejoice in the day of
Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured
in vain. Yea, and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and
service of your faith, I joy and rejoice with you all." He
rejoiced at the stedfastness of saints : Col. ii. 5. " For
though I be absent in the flesh, yet am I with you in the
spirit, joying and beholding your order, and the stedfast
ness of your faith in Christ." And he rejoiced at the
conviction of sinners, and in whatever tended to it. He
rejoiced at any good which was done, though by others,
and though it was done accidentally by his enemies :
Phil. i. 15, 16, 17,18. " Some indeed preach Christ even
of envy and strife ; and some also of good will. The one
preach Christ of contention, not sincerely, supposing to
add affliction to my bonds.. But the other of love, know
ing that I am set for the defence of the gospel. What
¦then ? notwithstanding, every way, whether in pretence or

in truth, Christ is preached ; and I therein do rejoice, yea,
and will rejoice." When the apostle heard any thing of
this nature, it was good news to him : 1 Thess. iii. 6, 7.
" But now, when Timotheus came from you unto us, and
brought us good tidings of your faith and charity, and that
ye have good remembrance of us always, desiring greatly
to see us, as we also you ; therefore, brethren, we were
comforted over you in all our affliction and distress by
your faith." When he heard such tidings, his heart was
wont to be enlarged in the praises of God : Col. i. 3, 4.
" We give thanks to God and the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, praying always for you, since we heard of your
faith in Christ Jesus, and of the love which ye have to all
the saints." He was not only wont to praise God when
he first heard such tidings, but as often as he thought of
such things, they were so joyful to him, that he readily
praised God. Phil. i. 3, 4, 5. " I thank my God upon
every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine
for you all making request with joy, for your fellowship
in the gospel from the first day until now. ' Let us com
pare ourselves with such an example, and examine how
far we are of such a spirit. Let those on this occasion
reflect upon themselves, whose hearts are chiefly engaged
in their own private temporal concerns, and are not much
concerned respecting the interests of religion and the
church of Christ, if they can obtain their private aims ;
who are greatly grieved when things go contrary to their
worldly prosperity, who see religion, as it were, weltering
in its blood, without much sorrow of heart. It may be,
that they will say ; It is greatly to be lamented that there
is such declension, and it is a sorrowful thing that sin so
much prevails. But if we would look into their hearts,
how cold and careless should we see them. Those words
are words of course. They express themselves thus chiefly,
because they think it creditable to lament the decay of
religion ; but they are ten times as much concerned about
other things as these, about their own private interest, or
some secular affairs of the town. If any thing seems to
threaten their being disappointed in these things, how
readily are they excited and alarmed ; but how quiet and
easy in their spirit, notwithstanding all the dark clouds
that appear over the cause and kingdom of Christ, and the
salvation of those around them ! How quick and bow high
is their zeal against those, who, they think, unjustly oppose
them in their temporal interests ; but how low is their zeal,
comparatively, against those things that are exceedingly
pernicious of the interests of religion ! If their own credit
is touched, how are they awakened ! but they can see the
credit of religion wounded, and bleeding, and dying, with
little hearty concern. Most men are of a private, narrow
spirit. They are not of the spirit of the apostle Paul, nor
of the psalmist, who preferred Jerusalem before his chief
joy. Psal. cxxxvii. 6.
Secondly. We ought to follow the apostle in his diligent
and laborious endeavours to do good. We see multitudes
incessantly labouring and striving after the world ; but not
more than the apostle laboured to advance the kingdom
of his dear Master, and the good of his fellow-creatures.
His work was very great, and attended with great difficul
ties and opposition ; and his labour was answerably great.
He laboured abundantly more than any of the apostles :
1 Cor. xv. 10. " I laboured more abundantly than they
all, yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me."
How great were the pains he took in preaching and in
travelling from place to place over so great part of the
world, by sea and land, and probably for the most part on
foot, when he travelled by land : instructing and convert
ing the heathen, disputing with gainsayers, and heathen
Jews, and heretics, strenuously opposing and fighting
against the enemies of the church of Christ, wrestling not
with flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers,
against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against
spiritual wickedness in high places ; acting the part of a
good soldier, as one that goes a warfare ; putting on Christ
and using the whole armour of God ; labouring to estab
lish, and confirm, and build up the saints, reclaiming those
that were wandering, delivering those that were insnared,
enlightening the dark, comforting the disconsolate, and
succouring the tempted; rectifying disorders that had
happened in churches, exercising ecclesiastical discipline

862

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

towards offenders, and admonishing the saints of the
covenant of grace ; opening and applying the Scriptures,
ordaining persons and giving them directions, and assist
ing those lhat were ordained ; and writing epistles, and
sending messengers to one and another part of the church
of Christ ! He had the care of the churches lying con
tinually upon him : 2 Cor. xi. 28. " Besides those things
that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, tlie
care of all the churches." These things occasioned him to
be continually engaged in earnest labour. He continued
in it night and day, sometimes almost the whole night,
preaching and admonishing, as appears by Acts xx. 7,
11. " And upon the first day of the week, when the dis
ciples came together to break bread, Paul preached unto
them, ready to depart on the morrow, and continued his
speech until midnight. When he therefore was come up
again, and had broken bread, and eaten, and talked a
long while, even till break of day, so he departed." And
he did all freely, without any view to any temporal gain.
He tells the Corinthians that he would gladly spend and
be spent for them. Besides his labouring in the work of
the gospel, he laboured very much, yea, sometimes night
and day, in a handicraft trade to procure subsistence, that
he might not be chargeable to others, and so hinder the
gospel of Christ: 1 Thess. ii. 9. " For ye remember,
brethren, our labour and travail, for labouring night and
day, because we would not be chargeable unto any of you,
we preached unto you the gospel of God." And he con
tinued this course of labour as long as he lived. He never
was weary in well-doing ; and though he met with con
tinual opposition, and thousands of difficulties, yet nothing
discouraged him. But he kept on, pressing forward in
this course of hard, constant labour to the end of his life,
as appears by what he says just before his death, 2 Tim.
iv. 6, 7. " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of
my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I
have finished my course, I have kept the faith." And the
effects and fruits of the apostle's labours witnessed for
him. The world was blessed by the good he did ; not
one nation only, but multitudes of nations. The effects of
his labours were so great in so many nations before he had
laboured twenty years, that the heathens called it his turn
ing the world upside down. Acts xvii. 6. This very man
was the chief instrument in that great work of God, the
calling of the Gentiles, and the conversion of the Roman
world. And he seems to have done more good, far more
good, than any other man ever did from the beginning of
the world to this day. He lived after his conversion not
much more than thirty years ; and in those thirty years he
did more than a thousand men commonly do in an age.
This example may well make us reflect upon ourselves,
and consider how little we do for Christ, and for our fel
low-creatures. We profess to be Christians as well as the
apostle Paul, and Christ is worthy that we should serve
him as Paul did. But how small are our labours for God
and Christ and our fellow-creatures ! Though many of
us keep ourselves busy, how are our labour and strength
spent, and with what is our time filled up ? Let us con
sider ourselves a little, and the manner of spending our
time. We labour to provide for ourselves and families,
to maintain ourselves in credit, and to make our part good
among men. But is that all for which we are sent into the
world ? Did he who made us and gave us our powers of
mind and strength of body, and who gives us our time
and our talents, give them to us chiefly to be spent in this
manner ; or in serving him ? Many years have rolled over
the heads of some of us, and what have we lived for ;
what have we been doing all this time ? How much is the
world the better for us ? Were we here only to eat and to
drink, and to devour the good which the earth produces ?
Many of the blessings of Providence have been conferred
upon us ; and where is the good that we have done in re
turn ? If we had never been bom, or if we had died in
infancy, of how much good would the world have been
deprived of? Such reflections should be made with con
cern, by those who pretend to be Christians. For certainly
God does not plant vines in his vineyard, except for the
fmit which he expects they should bring forth. He does
not hire labourers into his vineyard, but to do service.
They who live only for themselves, live in vain, and shall

at last be cut down as cumberers of the earth. Let the
example of Paul make us more diligent to do good for the
time to come. Men that do but little good are very ready
to excuse themselves, and to say, that God has not suc
ceeded their endeavours. But is it any wonder that we
have not been succeeded, when we have been no more
engaged? When God sees any person thoroughly and
earnestly engaged, continuing in it, and really faithful, he
is wont to succeed them in some good measure. You see
how wonderfully he succeeded the great labours of the
apostle. Thirdly. He did not only encounter great labours, but
he exercised also his utmost skill and contrivance for the
glory of God, and the good of his fellow-creatures ; 2 Cor.
xii. 16. " Being crafty, I caught you with guile." How
do the men of the world not only willingly labour to obtain
worldly good, but how much craft and subtlety do they
use ? And let us consider how it is here among our
selves. How many are our contrivances to secure and
advance our own worldly concerns ! Who can reckon up
the number of all the schemes that have been formed
among us, to gain money, and honours, and accomplish
particular worldly designs ? How subtle are we to avoid
those things that might hurt us in our worldly interest,
and to baffle the designs of those who may be endeavour
ing to hurt us ! But how little is contrived for the ad
vancement of religion, and the good of our neighbours !
How many schemes are laid by men to promote their
worldly designs, where one is laid for the advancement of
the kingdom of Christ, and the good of men ! How fre
quent are the meetings of neighbours to determine how
they may best advance such and such worldly affairs ! But
how seldom are there such meetings to revive sinking religion,
to maintain and advance the credit of the gospel, and to ac
complish charitable designs for the advancement of Christ's
kingdom, and the comfort and well-being of mankind !
May not these considerations justly be a source of lamen
tation ? How many men are wise in promoting their
worldly interests; but what a shame is it, that so few
show themselves wise as serpents and harmless as doves
for Christ ! And how commonly is it the reverse of
what the apostle advises the christian Romans, " I would
have you wise unto that which is good, and simple con
cerning evil." Is it not often on the contrary with pro
fessing Christians, as it was with the people of Judah and
Jerusalem ; " They are wise to do evil, but to do good
they have no knowledge ?"
Fourthly. The apostle Paul did willingly forego those
things that were in themselves lawful, for the furtherance
of the interests of religion and the good of men. Thus
marriage was a thing lawful for the apostle Paul as well
as for other men, as he himself asserts ; but he did not
use the liberty he had in this matter, because he thought
he might be under greater advantages to spread the gospel
in a single than a married state. So it was lawful for the
apostle to take the other course of life, as in eating and
drinking, and freely using all kinds of wholesome food.
And it was in itself a lawful thing for the apostle to de
mand a maintenance of those to whom he preached. But
he forbore those things, because he supposed that in his
circumstances, and in the circumstances of the church of
Christ in that day, he could more advance the interests of
religion and the good of men without them. For the
gospel's sake, and for the good of men, he was willing to
forego all the outward advantages he could derive from
them. 1 Cor. viii. 13. "Wherefore if meat make my
brother to offend, I will eat no meat while the world
standeth, lest I make my brother to offend." He would
not only avoid those things that were useless in them
selves, but those also that gave any occasion to sin, or
which led or exposed either nimself or others to sin. Then
it follows in the next chapter, " Am I not an apostle ? Am
I not free ? Have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord ? Are
not ye my work in the Lord ? If I be not an apostle unto
others, yet doubtless I am to you ; for the seal of mine
apostleship are ye in the Lord. Mine answer to them that
do examine me is this, Have we not power to eat and to
drink ? Have we not power to lead about a sister, a wife,
as well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the Lord,
and Cephas ? Or I only and Barnabas, have not we

SERMON V.

863

power to forbear working?" The apostle did not only
fdfbear some little things, but he put himself to great diffi
culties by forbearing those things that were in themselves
lawful. It cost him a great deal of labour of body to
maintain liimself. But yet he willingly laboured, working
with his own hands ; and as he says, though he was free
from all men, yet he made himself the servant of all, that
he might gain the more. Let this induce such persons to
consider themselves, whether they act altogether as become
Christians, who look upon it as a sufficient excuse for all
the liberties they take, that the things in which they allow
themselves, are in themselves lawful, that they are nowhere
forbidden, though they cannot deny but that considered in
their circumstances, they are of ill tendency, and expose
them to temptation, and really tend to wound the credit
and interest of religion, and to be a stumbling-block to
others, or as the apostle expresses it, tend to cause others
to offend. But they uphold themselves with this, that the
things which they practise are not absolutely unlawful in
themselves, and therefore they will not hearken to any
counsels to avoid them. They think with themselves that
it is unreasonable they should be tied up so strictly ; that
they may not take one and another liberty, and must be so
stiff and precise above others. But why did not the
apostle talk after their manner ? Why did not he say within
himself, It is unreasonable that I should deny myself law
ful meat and drink merely to comply with the consciences
of a few weak persons, that are unreasonable in their
scruples? Why should I deny myself the comforts of
marriage ; why should I deny myself that maintenance
which Christ himself has ordained for ministers, only to
avoid the objection of unreasonable men ? But the apostle
was of another spirit. What he aimed at was by any
means to promote the interest of religion, and the good of
the church. And he had rather forego all the common
comforts and enjoyments of life, than that religion should
suffer. .
Fifthly. The apostle willingly endured innumerable
and extreme sufferings for the honour of Christ and the
good of men. His sufferings were very great; and that
not only once or twice, but he went through a long series of
sufferings, that continued from the time of his conversion
as long as his life lasted. So that his life was not only a
life of extraordinary labour, but a life of extreme sufferings
also. Labours and sufferings were mixed together, and
attended each other to the end of the race which he ran.
He endured sufferings of all kinds, even those that cannot
consist in the loss of temporal things. He tells us he had
suffered the loss of all things, Phil. iii. 8. all his former
enjoyments, which he had before his conversion. And he
endured many kinds of positive afflictions. 1 Cor. iv. 11,
12. " Even unto this present hour, we both hunger and
thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain
dwelling-place ; and labour, working with our hands :
being reviled, we bless ; being persecuted, we suffer it."
2 Cor. vi. 4 — 1 1 . " But in all things approving ourselves
as the ministers of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in
necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in imprisonments, in
tumults, in labours, in watchings, in fastings ; by pureness,
by knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy
Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the
power of God, by the armour of righteousness on the right
hand and on the left, by honour and dishonour, by evil
report and good report : as deceivers, and yet true ; as un
known, and yet well known ; as dying, and behold we
live; as chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet
always rejoicing ; as poor, yet making many rich ; as having
nothing, and yet possessing all things." None of the
apostles went through so great and such various afflictions
as he : 2 Cor. xi. 23 — 28. " Are they ministers of Christ?
I am more ; in labours more abundant, in stripes above
measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the
Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice
was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suf
fered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep ;
in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of
robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by
the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness,
in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren ; in
weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger

and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness." His
sufferings were so extreme, that he did not go through a
series of sufferings merely, but might be said, as it were,
to go through a series of deaths. He did in effect endure
the pains of death over and over again almost continually,
and therefore he expresses himself as he does. 2 Cor. iv.
9 — 1 1 . " Persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not
destroyed ; always bearing about in the body the dying of
the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made
manifest in our body. For we which live are alway de
livered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of
Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh." Rom.
viii. 30. " As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the
day long ; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter."
1 Cor. xv. 31. " I protest by your rejoicing, which I have
in Christ Jesus our Lord, I die daily. He was so pursued
and jjressed by troubles, sometimes outward and inward
trouDles together, that he had no rest. 2 Cor. vii. 5. " For
when we were come into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest,
but we were troubled on every side : without were fight
ings, within were fears." Sometimes his sufferings were
so extreme that his nature seemed just ready to faint under
them : 2 Cor. i. 8. " For we would not, brethren, have you
ignorant of our trouble, which came to us in Asia, that we
were pressed out of measure above strength, insomuch that
we despaired even of life." And at last the apostle was
deprived of his life. He suffered a violent death at Rome
under the hand of that cruel tyrant, Nero, soon after he
wrote the second epistle to Timothy. These things he
endured for Christ's sake; for the advancement of his
kingdom ; as he says, he was always delivered to death for
Jesus' sake. And those he endured also from love to men,
and from an earnest desire of their good : 2 Tim. ii. 10.
" Therefore I endure all things for the elect's sake, that
they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus
with eternal glory." He knew what afflictions awaited
him beforehand ; but he would not avoid his duty because
of such afflictions. He was so resolute in seeking Christ's
glory, and the good of men, that he would pursue these
objects, notwithstanding what might befall him : Acts xx.
22 — 24. " And now, behold, I go bound in the spirit unto
Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there ;
save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying
that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these
things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself,
so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry,
whicb I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the
gospel of the grace of God." Yet he went through them
cheerfully and willingly, and delighted to do God's will,
and to promote others' good, though it was at this great
cost : Col. i. 24. " Who now rejoice in my sufferings for
you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of
Christ in my flesh for his body's sake, which is the church."
And he was never weary. He did not, after he had suffer
ed a long time, excuse himself, and say he thought he had
done his part. Now here appears Christianity in its proper
colours. To be of such a spirit as this, is to be of such a
spirit as Christ so often requires of us, if we would be his
disciples. This is to sell all and give to the poor. This is
to take up the cross daily and follow Christ. To have
such a spirit as this, is to have good evidence of being a
Christian indeed, a thorough Christian, one that has given
himself to Christ without reserve; one that hates father
and mother, and wife, and children, and sisters, yea and his
own life also ; one that loses his life for Christ's sake, and
so shall find it. And though it is not required of all that
they should endure so great sufferings as Paul did ; yet it is
required and absolutely necessary, that many Christians
should be in a measure of this spirit, should be of a spirit
to lose all things and suffer all things for Christ, rather
than not obey his commands and seek his glory. How
well may our having such an example as this set before
our eyes make us ashamed, who ave so backward now and
then to lose little things, to put ourselves a little out of our
way, to deny ourselves some convenience, to deny our
sinful appetites, or to incur the displeasure of a neighbour.
Alas ! what thought havo we of Christianity, to make much
of such things as these ; to make so many objections, to
keep back, and contrive ways to excuse ourselves, when a
little difficulty arises ! What kind of thoughts had we of

864

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

being Christians, when we first undertook to be such, or
first pretended a willingness to be Christians? Did we
never sit down and count the cost, or did we cast it up at
this rate, that we thought the whole sum would not amount
to such little sufferings as lie in our way ?
II. I now proceed to show under what special obliga
tions we are to follow the good example of this apostle.
Beside the obligation that rests upon us to follow the
good example of all, and beside the eminence of his ex
ample, there are some special reasons why we are under
greater obligations to be influenced by the good example
of this great apostle, than by the very same example in
others. This appears if we consider,
1. In general, that those whom God has especially ap
pointed to be teachers in the christian church, he has also
set to be examples in his church. It is part of the charge
that belongs to teachers, to be examples to others. It is
one thing that belongs to their work and office. So this
is part of the charge that the apostle gives to Timothy,
" Be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conver
sation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity." The same
charge is given to Titus, " In all things showing thyself a
pattern of good works." And this is part of the charge
the apostle Peter gives to the elders and teachers of the
christian church, " The elders which are among you, I
exhort ; feed the flock of God. Neither being lords over
God's heritage, but being ensamples to the flock." Thus
Christ, the chief Shepherd of the sheep, whom God or
dained to be the greatest teacher, he also ordained to be
the greatest example to his church. And so those shep
herds and teachers that are under him, according as they
are appointed to be teachers, are also to be examples.
They are to be guides of the flock in two ways, viz. by
teaching and by example, as shepherds lead their flocks in
two ways ; partly by their voice by calling them, and partly
by going before them, and by leading the way. And in
deed guiding by word and guiding by example, are but
two different ways of teaching ; and therefore both alike
belong to the office of teachers in the christian church.
But if this be so, if God has especially set those to be ex
amples in the christian church whom he has made its
teachers, then it will follow, that wherever they have left
us good examples, those examples are especially to be re
garded. For God has doubtless made the duty of teachers
towards the church, and the duty of the church towards
her teachers, to answer one another. And therefore the
charge is mutual. The charge is not only to teachers to
set good examples, but the charge is to the church to re
gard and follow their good examples : Heb. xiii. 7. " Re
member them which have the rule over you, which have
spoken unto you the word of God, whose faith follow,
considering the end of their conversation." It is with re
spect to the good examples ofthe teachers ofthe christian
church, as it is with their words, their instructions and
exhortations. We ought to hear good instructions and
good counsels of any one, let him be whom he may. But
yet we are under special obligations to hearken to the good
instructions and examples of those whom God has made
our teachers ; for that is the very office to which God has
appointed them to teach and to counsel us.
2. There are two things that are to be observed in par
ticular of the apostle Paul, which, from the foregoing
general observation, will show that we are under very
special obligations to regard and follow his good ex
ample. First. God hath appointed the apostle Paul not only to
be a greater teacher . of . the christian church in that age in
which he lived, but the principal teacher of his church of
any mere man in all succeeding ages. He was set of God
not only to teach the church then, when he lived, but God
has made him our teacher by his inspired writings. The
christian church is taught by the apostle still, and has been
in every age since he lived. It is not with the penmen of
the Scriptures, as it is with other teachers of the christian
church. Other teachers are made the teachers of a par
ticular flock in the age in which they live. But the penmen
of the Scriptures hath God made to be the teachers of the
church universal in all ages. And therefore, as particular
congregations ought to follow the good examples of their
pastors, so the church universal in all ages ought to observe

and follow the good examples of the prophets and apos
tles, that are the penmen ofthe Scriptures, in all ages. So
the apostle James commands us to take the ancient pro
phets for our example, because they have been appointed
of God to be our teachers, and have spoken to us in the
name of the Lord. James v. 10. " Take, my brethren, the
prophets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for
an example of suffering affliction and patience." The pro
phets and apostles, in that God has made them penmen
of the Scriptures, are, next to Christ, the foundation of the
church of God : Eph. ii. 20. " Built on the foundation of
the prophets and apostles, Jesus Christ himself being the
chief corner-stone. And Paul, above all the penmen of
the Scriptures, is distinguished of God as being made by
him the principal teacher of the christian church of any
mere man. Moses taught gospel truths under types and
shadows, whereby he did, as it were, put a veil over his
face. But Paul used great plainness of speech. 2 Cor.
iii. 12, 13. Moses was a minister of the Old Testament
and of the letter, that kills. But the apostle Paul is the
principal minister of the New Testament, of the spirit, and
not of the letter. 2 Cor. iii. 6, 7. Christ has empowered
this apostle to be the penmen of more of the New Testa
ment than any other man, and it is by him chiefly that we
have the great doctrines of it explained. And God has ac
tually made this apostle the principal founder of tlie
christian church under Christ. He doubtless did more
towards it than all the other apostles ; and therefore is to
be looked upon as the principal shepherd under Christ of
the whole flock of Christ, which is a great obligation on
the flock to regard and follow his good example.
Secondly. We, who are Gentiles, are especially under
obligations to regard his teaching and example, because it
has been mainly by means of this apostle that we have
been brought into the christian church. He was the great
apostle of the Gentiles ; the main instrument of that great
work of God, the calling of the Gentiles. It was chiefly
by his means that all the countries of Europe came by the
gospel. And so it was through his hands that our nation
came by the gospel. They either had the gospel from him
immediately, or from those who had it from him.- Had it
not been for the labours of this apostle, our nation might
have remained to this day in gross heathenism. . This con
sideration should especially engage us to regard him as our
guide, and should endear his good example to us. • The
apostle often exhorts those churches, as the church of
Corinth, Philippi, and others which he had converted from
heathenism, and to which he had been a spiritual father-
to be followers of him wherein he followed Christ. -And
we are some of them. We have been the more remark
ably converted from heathenism by this apostle, and we
ought to acknowledge him as our spiritual father. And
we are obliged to follow his good example as children
should follow the good example of their parents.
I now proceed to a general

APPLICATION.
Of the whole that has been said on this subject, which
may be by way of exhortation to all earnestly to en
deavour tofollow the good example of this great apostle.
We have heard what a spirit the apostle manifested, and
after what manner he lived in the world ; how earnestly
he sought his own salvation, and that not only before, but
also after, his conversion, and how earnestly cautious he
was to avoid eternal damnation, long after he had obtained
a saving interest in Christ. We have heard how strong
he was in faith, how great was his love to his Lord and
Saviour, and how he was not ashamed of the gospel, but
gloried in the cross of Christ ; how he abounded in prayer
and praise ; how he contemned the wealth, and pleasures,
and glory of the world ; how contented he was with the
allotments of Providence ; how prudent and cautious he
was in giving an account of his achievements, lest he should
represent more of himself in words than men should see of
him in deeds. We have heard how much he suffered
under abuses, how he loved his enemies, how he delighted
in peace, and rejoiced with those that rejoiced, and wept
with those that wept, and delighted in the fellowship of

SERMON V.

865

God's people, and how courteous he was in his behaviour
towards others. We have heard of what a public spirit he
was, how greatly concerned for the prosperity of Christ's
kingdom and the good of his church, how diligent, labori
ous, and indefatigable in his endeavours to do good ;
how he studied for ways and means to promote this end,
how he exercised his skill and contrivance, willingly fore
going those things that were in themselves lawful, and
willingly enduring innumerable and extraordinary suffer
ings. My exhortation now is to imitate tins example ;
and to enforce this, I desire that several things may be
considered. 1. Let it be considered, why it is that we have so much
written of the good example of this apostle, unless that we
might follow it. We often read those things in the Holy
Scriptures which have now been set before us on this sub
ject; and to what purpose, unless we apply them to our
selves ? We had as good never have been informed how
well the apostle behaved himself, if we do not endeavour
lo follow him. We all profess to be Christians, and we
ought to form our notions of Christianity from what is
written in the Scriptures by the prophets, and from the
precepts and excellent examples that are -here set before
us. One great reason why many professors live no better,
walk no more amiably, and are in so many things so un
lovely, is, that they have not good notions of Christianity.
They do not seem to have a right idea of that religion that
is taught us in the New Testament. They have not well
learned Christ. The notions that some persons entertain
of Christianity are very distorted, and ill conformed to the
gospel. The notions of others are very erroneous. They
lay the chief stress wrong, upon things on which it ought
not to be laid. They place religion almost altogether in
some particular duties, leaving out others of great weight,
and, it may be, the weightier matters of the law. And the
reason why they have no better notions of Christianity is,
because they take their notions of it chiefly from those
sources whence they ought not to take them. Some take
them from the general cry or voice of the people, among
whom they live. They see that others place religion
merely, if not almost wholly, in such and such things.
And hence their notions of Christianity are formed. Or
they take their notions from the example of particular in
dividuals now living, who are in great reputation for god
liness. And their notion of Christianity is, that it consists
in being like such persons. Hence they never have just
notions of religion : 2 Cor. x. 12. "They, measuring them
selves by themselves, and comparing themselves among
themselves, are not wise." If we would have right notions
of Christianity, we should observe those in whom it shone,
of whom we have an account in the Scriptures. For they
are the examples that God himself has selected to set
before us to that end, that from thence we might form our
notions of religion ; and especially the example of this
apostle. God knows how to select examples. If there
fore we would have right notions of Christianity, we ought
to follow the good example of the apostle Paul. He was
certainly a Christian indeed, and an eminent Christian.
We have God's abundant testimony. But Christianity is
in itself an amiable thing, and so it appeared in the exam
ple of this apostle. And if the professors of it would form
their notions of it from such examples as those, rather than
from any particular customs and examples that we have
now, it would doubtless appear much more amiable in
their practice than it now does ; it would win others. They
would not be a stumbling-block. Their light would shine.
They would command reverence and esteem, and be of
powerful influence.
2: If we follow the good example which this apostle has
set us, it will secure to us the like comfortable and sweet
influence of God, that he enjoyed through the course of
his life. Let us consider what a happy life the apostle
lived; what peace of conscience, and joy in the Holy
Ghost, he possessed : 2 Cor. i. 12. " For our rejoicing is
this,- the testimony of our conscience." How did he
abound with comfort and joy, even in the midst of the
greatest afflictions : 2 Cor. i. 3—5. " Blessed be God,
even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of
mercies, and the God of all comfort. Who comfoiteth us
in all oinitribulation, that we may be able to comfort them
vol. n. 3 K

which are in any trouble, by the comforts wherewith we
ourselves are comforted of God.' For as the sufferings of
Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounded! in
Christ." In all his tribulation his joy was exceedingly
great. He seems to want words to express the greatness
of the joy which he possessed continually. He says he
was filled with comfort, and was exceedingly joyful :
2 Cor. vii. 4. " I am filled with comfort, I am exceeding
joyful in all our tribulation." How does the apostle's love
seem to overflow with joy ! 2 Cor. vi. 10, 11. " As sorrow
ful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich;
as having nothing, yet possessing all things. O ye Corin
thians, our mouth is open unto you, our heart is enlarged."
How happy is such a life ! How well is such happiness
worth pursuing ! We are ourselves the occasion of our own
wounds and troubles. We bring darkness on our own
souls. Professing Christians, by indulging their sloth, seek
their own ease and comfort ; but they defeat their own aim.
The most laborious and the most self-denying Christians
are the most happy. There are many who are complain
ing of their darkness, and inquiring what they shall do for
light, and the comfortable presence of God.
3. This would be the way to be helped against tempta
tion, and to triumph over our spiritual enemies as the
apostle did. Satan assaulted him violently, and men con
tinually persecuted him. The powers of hell combined
against him. But God was with him, and made him more
than a conqueror. He lived a life of triumph : 2 Cor. ii.
14. " Now thanks be unto God, who always oauseth us to
triumph in Christ." Let us consider what an excellent
privilege it would be thus to be helped against temptation.
What a grief of mind is it to be so often overcome.
4. This would secure us honour from God, and an ex
traordinary intimacy with him. Moses enjoyed a great
intimacy with God, but the apostle Paul in some respects
a greater. Moses conversed with God in mount Sinai.
Paul was caught up to the third heavens. He had abun
dant visions and revelations more than he has told us, lest
any should think him to boast. He was favoured with
more of the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit than any
other person. And though we cannot expect to be ho
noured with intimacy with heaven in just the same way,
yet if we in good earnest apply ourselves, we may have
greater and greater intimacy, so that we may come with
boldness, and converse with God as a friend.
This would be the way to make us great blessings in
the world. The apostle, by means of such a spirit and
such a behaviour as you have heard, was made the greatest
blessing to the world of any who ever lived on earth, ex
cept the man Christ Jesus himself. Wherever he went,
there went a blessing with him. To have him enter a city
was commonly made a greater mercy to it than if the
greatest monarch on earth had come there, scattering his
treasures around him among the inhabitants. Wherever
he went, there did, as it were, a light shine about him,
seemingly to enlighten the benighted children of men.
Silver and gold he had none. But what he imparted to
many thousands was worth more to them than if he had
bestowed upon them the richest jewels of which the Ro
man emperor was possessed. And he was not only a
blessing to that generation, but has been so since his death,
by the fruits of what he did in his lifetime, the foundations
he then laid, and by the writings which he has left for the
good of mankind, to the end of the world. He then was,
and ever since has been, a light to the church next in
brightness to the Sun of righteousness. And it was by
means of his excellent spirit and excellent behaviour that
he became such a blessing. Those were the things that
God made useful in him for doing so much good. And
if we should imitate the apostle in such a spirit and beha
viour, the undoubted consequence would be, that we also
should be made great blessings in the world ; we should
not live in vain, but should carry a blessing with us
wherever we went. Instead of being cumberers of the
ground, multitudes would be fed with our fruit, and would
have reason to praise and bless God that he ever gave us
a being. Now, how melancholy a consideration may it
be to any persons that they have lived to no purpose ; that
the world would have been deprived of nothing, if they
had never been born ; and it may be, have been better

866

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

without them than with them ! How desirable is it to be
a blessing ! How great was the promise made to Abraham,
" In thee shall all the families ofthe earth be blessed !"
6. For us to follow the good example of the apostle
Paul, would be the way for us to die as he did. 2 Tim.
iv. 6 — 8. " For I am now ready to be offered, and the
time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good
fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ;
henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteous
ness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me
at that day."
7. This" would secure us a distinguished crown of glory
hereafter. It is thought by some, and not without great
probability, that the apostle Paul is the very next in glory
to the man Jesus Christ himself. This is probable from
his having done more good than any, and from his having
done it through so great labours and sufferings. The
apostle tells us, " Every man shall receive his own reward
according to his own labour."
I shall conclude witii mentioning some things as en
couragements for us to endeavour to follow the excellent
example of this great apostle. Many may be ready to
say that it is in vain for them to try. The apostle was a
person so greatly distinguished ; it is in vain for them to
endeavour to be like him. But for your encouragement,
consider, 1. That the apostle was a man of like passions with us.

He had naturally the same heart, the same corruptions;
was under the same circumstances, the same guilt, and the
same condemnation. There is this circumstance that at
tends the apostle's example to encourage us to endeavour
to imitate him, which did not attend the example of
Christ. And yet weare called upon to imitate the example
of Christ. This is probably one main reason why notonly
the example of Christ, but also those of mere men, are set
'before us in the Scriptures. Though you may think you
have no great reason to hope to come up to the apostle's
degree, yet that is no reason why you should not make his
good example your pattern, and labour, as far as in you lies,
to copv after him.
2. This apostle, before he was converted, was a very
wicked man, and a vile persecutor. He often speaks of it
himself. He sinned against great light.
3. He had much greater hinderances and impediments
to eminent holiness from without than any of us have. His
circumstances made it more difficult for him.
4. The same God, the same Saviour, and the same head
of divine influence, are ready to help our sincere endea
vours, that helped him. Let us therefore not excuse our
selves, but in good earnest endeavour to follow so excellent
an example. And then, however weak we are in ourselves,
we may hope to experience Christ's support, and be able
to say from our own experience, as the apostle did before
him, " when I am weak, then am I strong."

SERMON VI.

Luke xxii. 44.
And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly, and his
sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down
to the ground.
Our Lord Jesus Christ, in his original nature, was in
finitely above all suffering, for he was " God over all, bless
ed for evermore;" but, when he became man, he was not
only capable of suffering, but partook of that nature that is
remarkably feeble and exposed to suffering. The human
nature, on account of its weakness, is in Scripture com
pared to the grass of the field, which easily withers and
decays. So it is compared to a leaf ; and to the dry stubble ;
and to a blast of wind : and the nature of feeble man is said
to be but dust and ashes, to have its foundation in the
dust, and to be crushed before the moth. It was this na
ture, with all its weakness and exposedness to sufferings,
which Christ, who is the Lord God omnipotent, took upon
him. He did not take the human nature on him in its first,
most perfect and vigorous state, but in that feeble forlorn
state which it is in since the fall ; and therefore Christ is
called " a tender plant," and " a root out of a dry ground."
Isa. liii. 2. " For he shall grow up before him as a tender
plant, and as a root out of a dry ground : he hath no form
nor comeliness; and when we' shall see him, there is no
beauty that we should desire him." Thus, as Christ's
principal errand into the world was suffering, so, agreeably
to that errand, he came with such a nature and in such
circumstances, as most made way for his suffering ; so his
whole life was filled up with suffering, he began to suffer
in his infancy, but his suffering increased the more he
drew near to the close of his life.» His suffering after his
public ministry began, was probably much greater than be
fore ; and the latter part of the time of his public ministry
seems to have been distinguished by suffering. The longer
Christ lived in the world, the more men saw and heard of
him, the more they hated him. His enemies were more
and more enraged by the continuance of the opposition
that he made to their lusts ; and the devil having been
often baffled by him, grew more and more enraged, and
strengthened the battle more and more against him : so that

the cloud over Christ's head grew darker and darker, as
long as he lived in the world, till it was in its greatest
blackness when he hung upon the cross and cried out, My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ! Before this,
it was exceedingly dark, in the time of his agony in the
garden ; of which we have an account in the words now
read ; and which I propose to make the subject of my
present discourse. The word agony properly signifies an
earnest strife, such as is witnessed in wrestling, running,
or fighting. And therefore in Luke xiii. 24. " Strive to
enter in at the strait gate : for many, I say unto you, will
seek to enter in, and shall not be able ;" the word in the
original, translated strive, is a7_nfe-9e. " Agonize, to en
ter in at the strait gate." The word is especially used for.
that sort of strife, which in those days was exhibited in the
Olympic games, in which men strove for the mastery in
running, wrestling, and other such kinds of exercises ; and
a prize was set up that was bestowed on the conqueror.
Those, who thus contended, were, in the language then in
use, said to agonize. Thus the apostle in his epistle to the
Christians of Corinth, a city of Greece, where such games
were annually exhibited, says in allusion to the strivings of
the combatants, " And every man that striveth for- themas-
tery," in the original, every one that agonizetfi, " is tem
perate in all things." The place where those games were
held, was called A-y_i/, or the place qf agony ; and the word
is particularly used in Scripture for that striving in earnest
prayer wherein persons wrestle with God : they are said to
agonize, or to be in agony, in prayer. So the word is used
Rom. xv. 30. " Now I beseech you, brethren, for the Lord
Jesus Christ's sake, and for the love ofthe Spirit, that ye
strive together with me in your prayers to God for me :" in
the original _i>vo7_vife.eai j_oi, that ye agonize together with
me. So Coloss. iv. 12. " Always labouring fervently for
you in prayer, that ye may stand perfect and complete in
all the will of God :" in the original aT_»,f_v, agonizing for
you. So that when it is said in the text that Christ was in
an agony, the meaning is, that his soul was in a great and
earnest strife and conflict. It was so in two respects :
1. As his soul was in a great and sore conflict with those
terrible and amazing views and apprehensions which he
then had.

SERMON VI.

867

2. As he was at the same time in great labour and earn-
•est strife with God in prayer.
I propose therefore, in discoursing on the subject of
Christ's agony, distinctly to unfold it, under these two pro
positions, I. That the soul of Christ in his agony in the garden had
a sore conflict with those terrible and amazing views and
apprehensions, of which he was then the subject.
II. That the soul of Christ in his agony in the garden
had a great and earnest labour and struggle with God in
prayer. I. The soul of Christ in his agony in the garden had a
sore conflict with those terrible amazing views and appre
hensions, of which he was then the subject.
In illustrating this proposition I shall endeavour to
show, 1. What those views and apprehensions were.
2. That the conflict or agony of Christ's soul was occa
sioned by those views and apprehensions.
3. That this conflict was peculiarly great and distress
ing; and,
4. What we may suppose to be the special design of
God in giving Christ those terrible views and apprehen
sions, and causing him to suffer that dreadful conflict, be
fore he was crucified.
I proposed to show,
First, What were those terrible views and amazing ap
prehensions which Christ had in his agony. This may be
explained by considering,
1. The cause of those views and apprehensions ; and,
2. The manner in which they were then experienced.
1. The cause of those views and apprehensions, which
Christ had in his agony in the garden, was the bitter cup
which he was soon after to drink on the cross. The suf
ferings which Christ underwent in his agony in the gar
den, were not his greatest sufferings ; though they were so
very great. But his last sufferings upon the cross were
his principal sufferings ; and therefore they are called
"the cup that he had to drink." The sufferings of the
cross, under which he was slain, are always in the Scrip
tures represented as the main sufferings of Christ ; those
in which especially " he bare our sins in his own body,"
and made atonement for sin. His enduring the cross, his
humbling himself, and becoming obedient unto death,
even the death of the cross, is spoken of as the main thing
wherein his sufferings appeared. This is the cup that
Christ had set before him in his agony. It is manifest
that Christ had this in view at this time, from the prayers
which he then offered. According to Matthew,- Christ
made three prayers that evening while in the garden of
Gethsemane, and all on this one subject, the bitter cup
that he was to drink. Of the first, we have an account
in Matt. xxvi. 39. "And he went a little farther, and fell
on his face and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be pos
sible, let this cup pass from me ; nevertheless, not as I
will but as thou wilt :" of the second in the 42d verse,
" He went away again the second time and prayed, say
ing, O my Father, if this cup may not pass from me, ex
cept I drink it, thy will be done :" and of the third in the
44th verse, " And he left them, and went away again, and
prayed the third time, saying the same words." From
this it plainly appears what it was of which Christ had
such terrible views and apprehensions at that time. What
he thus insists on in his prayers, shows on what his mind
was so deeply intent. It was his sufferings on the cross,
which were to be endured the next day, when there should
be darkness over all the earth, and at the same time a
deeper darkness over the soul of Christ, of which he had
now _uch lively views and distressing apprehensions.
2. The manner in which this bitter cup was now set in
Christ's view.
(1.) He had a lively apprehension of it impressed at
that time on his mind. He had an apprehension of the
cup that he was to drink before. His principal errand in
to the world was to drink that cup, and he therefore was
never unthoughtful of it, but always bore it in his mind,
and often spoke of it to his disciples. Thus Matt, xvi,
21. " From that time forth began Jesus to show unto his
disciples how that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer
many things of the elders, and chief priests, and scribes,
3 k 2

and be killed, and be raised again the third day." Again
ch. xx. 17, 18, 19. "And Jesus going up to Jerusalem,
took the twelve disciples apart in the way, and said unto
them, Behold, we go up to Jerusalem ; and the Son of
man shall be betrayed unto the chief priests, and unto the
scribes, and they shall condemn him to death. And shall
deliver him to the Gentiles to mock, and to scourge, and
to crucify him : and the third day he shall rise again."
The same thing was the subject of conversation on the
mount with Moses and Elias when he was transfigured.
So he speaks of his bloody baptism, Luke xii. 50. " But
I have a baptism to be baptized with ; and how am I
straitened till it be accomplished !" He speaks of it again
to Zebedee's children. Matt. xx. 22. " Are ye able to
drink of ihe cup that I shall drink of, and to be baptized
with the baptism that I am baptized with? They say un
to him, We are able." He spake of his being lifted up.
John viii. 28. "Then said Jesus unto them, When ye
have lifted up the Son of man, then shall ye know that I
am he, and that I do nothing of myself; but as my
Father hath taught me, I speak these things." John xii.
34. "The people answered him, We have heard out of
the law that Christ abideth for ever : and how sayest thou,
The Son of man must be lifted up ? Who is this Son of
man ?" So he spake of destroying the temple of his body,
John ii. 19. "Jesus answered and said unto them, De
stroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up."
And he was very much in speaking of it a little before his
agony, in his dying counsels to his disciples in the 12th
and 13th ch. of John. Thus this was not the first time
that Christ had this bitter cup in his view. On the con
trary, he seems always to have had it in view. But it
seems that at this time God gave him an extraordinary
view of it. A sense of that wrath that was to be poured
out upon him, and of those amazing sufferings that he was
to undergo, was strongly impressed on his mind by the
immediate power of God ; so that he had far more full and
lively apprehensions of the bitterness ofthe cup which he
was to drink than he ever had before, and these apprehen
sions were so terrible, that his feeble human nature shrunk
at the sight, and was ready to sink.
2. The cup of bitterness was now represented as just at
hand. He had not only a more clear and lively view of
it than before ; but it was now set directly before him,
that he might without delay take it up and drink it ; for
then, within that same hour, Judas was to come with his
band of men, and he was then to deliver up himself into
their hands to the end that he might drink this cup the
next day; unless indeed he refused to take it, and so made
his escape from that place where Judas would come;
which he had opportunity enough to do if he had been so
minded. Having thus shown what those terrible views
and apprehensions were which Christ had in the time of
his agony ; I shall endeavour to show,
II. That the conflict which the soul of Christ then en
dured was occasioned by those views and apprehensions.
The sorrow and distress which his soul then suffered, arose
from that lively, and full, and immediate view which he
had then given him of that cup of wrath ; by which God
the Father did as it were set the cup down before him, for
him to take it and drink it. Some have inquired, what
was the occasion of that distress and agony, and many
speculations there have been about it, but the account
which the Scripture itself gives us is sufficiently full in
this matter, and does not leave room for speculation or
doubt. The thing that Christ's mind was so full of at
that time was, without doubt, the same with that which his
mouth was so full of : it was the dread which his feeble
human nature had of that dreadful cup, which was vastly
more terrible than Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace. He
had then a near view of that furnace of wrath, into which
he was to be cast ; he was brought to the mouth of the
furnace that he might look into it, and stand and view its
raging flames, and see the glowings of its heat, that he
might know where he was going and what he was about
to suffer. This was the thing that filled his soul with
sorrow and darkness, this terrible sight as it were over
whelmed him. For what was that human nature of
Christ to such mighty wrath as this ? it was in itself, with
out the supports of God, but a feeble worm of the dust, a

868

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

thing that was crushed before the moth, none of God's
children ever had such a cup set before them, as this first
being of every creature had. But not to dwell any longer
on this, I hasten to show,
III. That the conflict in Christ's soul, in this view of
his last sufferings, was dreadful, beyond all expression or
conception. This will appear,
1. From what is said of its dreadfulness in the history.
By one evangelist we are told, (Matt. xxvi. 37.) " He be
gan to be sorrowful and very heavy; and by another,
(Mark xiv. 33.) "And he taketh with him Peter, and
James, and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to
be very heavy." These expressions hold forth the intense
and overwhelming distress that his soul was in. Luke's
expression in the text of his being in an agony, according
to the signification of that word in the original, implies no
common degree of sorrow, but such extreme distress that
his nature had a most violent conflict with it, as a man
that wrestles with all his might with a strong man, who
labours and exerts his utmost strength to gain a conquest
over him.
2. From what Christ himself says of it, who was not
wont to magnify things beyond the truth. He says, " My
soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death." Matt. xxvi.
38. What language can more strongly express the most
extreme degree of sorrow ? His soul was not only " sor
rowful," but " exceeding sorrowful ;" and not only so,
but because that did not fully express the degree of his
sorrow, he adds, " even unto death ;" which seems to in
timate that the very pains and sorrows of hell, of eternal
death, had got hold upon him. The Hebrews were wont
to express the utmost degree of sorrow that any creature
could be liable to by the phrase, the shadow of death.
Christ had now, as it were, the shadow of death brought over
his soul by the near view which he had of that bitter cup
that was now set before him.
3. From the effect which it had on his body, in causing
that bloody sweat that we read of in the text. In our
translation "it is said, that " his sweat was, as it were, great
drops of blood, falling down to the ground." The word
rendered great drops, is in the original flpcyi/8oi, which pro
perly signifies lumps or clots ; for we may suppose that
the blood that was pressed out through the pores of his
skin by the violence of that inward struggle and conflict
that there was, when it came to be exposed to the cool air
of the night, congealed and stiffened, as is the nature of
blood, and so fell off from him not in drops, but in clots. If
the suffering of Christ had occasioned merely a violent
sweat, it would have shown that he was in great agony ;
for it must be an extraordinary grief and exercise of mind
that causes the body to be all of a sweat abroad in the
open air, in a cold night as that was, as is evident from
John xviii. 18. " And the servants and officers stood there,
who had made a fire of coals, (for it was cold,) and they
warmed themselves ; and Peter stood with them, and
warmed himself." This was the same night in which
Christ had his agony in the garden. But Christ's inward
distress and grief was not merely such as caused him to
be in a violent and universal sweat, but such as caused
him to sweat blood. The distress and anguish of his mind
was so unspeakably extreme as to force his blood through
the pores of his skin, and that so plentifully as to fall in
great clots or drops from his body to the ground. I come
now to show,
IV. What may be supposed to be the special end of God's
giving Christ beforehand these terrible views of his last
sufferings ; in other words, why it was needful that he
should have a more full and extraordinary view of the
cup that he was to drink, a little before he drank it, than
ever he had before ; or why he must have such a foretaste
of the wrath of God to be endured on the cross, before the
time came that he was actually to endure it.
Answer. It was needful, in order that he might take the
cup and drink it, as knowing what he did. Unless the
human nature of Christ had had an extraordinary view
given him beforehand of what he was to suffer, he could
not, as man, fully know beforehand what he was going to
suffer, and therefore could not, as man, know what he did
when he took the cup to drink it, because he would not
fully have known what the cup was— it being a cup that

he never drank before. If Christ had plunged himself
into those dreadful sufferings, without being fully sensible
beforehand of their bitterness and dreadfulness, he must
have done he knew not what. As man, he would have
plunged himself into sufferings of the amount of which he
was ignorant, and so have acted blindfold ; and of course
his taking upon him these sufferings could not have been
so fully his own act. Christ, as God, perfectly knew what
these sufferings were ; but it was more needful also that
he should know as man ; for he was to suffer as man, and
the act of Christ in taking that cup was the act of Christ
as God man. But the man Christ Jesus hitherto never
had had experience of any such sufferings as he was now
to endure on the cross ; and therefore he could not fully
know what they were beforehand, but by having an extra
ordinary view of them set before him, and an extraordinary
sense of them impressed on his mind. . We have heard of
tortures that others have undergone, but we do not fully
know what they were, because we never experienced them ;
and it is impossible that we should fully know what they
were but in one of these two ways, either by experiencing
them, or by having a view given of them, or a sense of
them impressed in an extraordinary way. Such a sense was
impressed on the mind of the man Christ Jesus, in the garden
of Gethsemane, of his last sufferings, and that caused his
agony. When he had a full sight given him what that
wrath of God was that he was to suffer, the sight was
overwhelming to him ; it made his soul exceeding sorrow
ful, even unto death. Christ was going to be cast into a
dreadful furnace of wrath, and it was not proper that he
should plunge himself into it blindfold, as not knowing
how dreadful the furnace was. Therefore that he might
not do so, God first brought him and set him at the mouth
of the furnace, that he might look in, and stand and view
its fierce and ra_ing flames, and might see where he was
going, and might voluntarily enter into it and bear it for
sinners, as knowing what it was. This view Christ bad
in his agony. Then God brought the cup that he was to
drink, and set it down before him, that he might have a
full view of it, and see what it was before he took it and
drank it. If Christ had not fully known what the dread
fulness of these sufferings was, before he took them upon
him, his taking them upon him could not have been fully
his own act as man ; there could have been no explicit
act of his will about that which he was ignorant of; there
could have been no proper trial, whether he would be will
ing to undergo such dreadful sufferings or not, unless he
had known beforehand how dreadful they were; but
when he had seen what they were, by having an extraor
dinary view given him of them, and then undertaken to
endure them afterwards ; then he acted as knowing what
he did ; then his taking that cup, and bearing such dread
ful sufferings, was properly his own act by an explicit
choice ; and so his love to sinners, in that choice of his,
was the more wonderful, as also his obedience to God in
it. And it was necessary that this extraordinary view that
Christ had of the cup he was to drink should be given at
that time, just before he was apprehended. This was the
most proper season for it, just before he took the cup, and
while he yet had opportunity to refuse the cup ; for before
he was apprehended by the company led by Judas, he had
opportunity to make his escape at pleasure. For the place
where he was, was without the city, where he was not at all
confined, and was a lonesome, solitary place ; and it was
the night season ; so that he might have gone from that
place where he would, and his enemies not have known
where to have found him. This view that he had of the
bitter cup was given him while he was yet fully at liberty,
before he was given into the hands of his enemies. Christ's
delivering himself up into the hands of his enemies, as he
did when Judas came, which was just after his agony,
was properly his act of taking the cup in order to drink ;
for Christ knew that the issue of that would be his cruci
fixion the next day. These things may show us the end
of Christ's agony, and the necessity there was of such an
agonj_before his last sufferings.

SERMON VI.

869

APPLICATION.
1 . Hence we may learn how dreadful Christ's last suf
ferings were. We learn it from the dreadful effect which
the bare foresight of them had upon him in his agony.
His last sufferings were so dreadful, that the view which
Christ had of them before overwhelmed him and amazed
him, as it is said he began to be sore amazed. The very
sight of these last sufferings was so very dreadful as to
sink his soul down into the dark shadow of death ; yea,
so dreadful was it, that in the sore conflict which his na
ture had with it, he was all in a sweat of blood, his body
all over was covered with clotted blood, and not only his
body, but the very ground under him with the blood that
fell from him, which had been forced through his pores
through the violence of his agony. And if only the fore
sight of the cup was so dreadful, how dreadful was the
cup itself, how far beyond all that can be uttered or con
ceived ! Many of the martyrs have endured extreme tor
tures, but from what has been said, there is all reason to
think those all were a mere nothing to the last sufferings
of Christ on the cross. And what has been said affords a
convincing argument that the sufferings which Christ, en
dured in his body on the cross, though they were very
dreadful, were yet the least part of his last sufferings ; and
that beside those, he endured sufferings in his soui which
were vastly greater. For if it had been only the sufferings
which he endured in his body, though they were very
dreadful, we cannot conceive that the mere anticipation of
them would have such an effect on Christ. Many of the
martyrs, for aught we know, have endured as severe tor
tures in their bodies as Christ did. Many of tbe martyrs
have been crucified, as Christ was ; and yet their souls
have not been so overwhelmed. There has been no ap
pearance of such amazing sorrow and distress of mind
either at the anticipation of their sufferings, or in their ac
tual enduring of them.
2. From what has been said, we may see the wonderful
strength ofthe love of Christ to sinners. What has been
said shows the strength of Christ's love two ways.
1. That it was so strong as to carry bim through that
agony that he was then in. The suffering that he then was
actually subject to, was dreadful and amazing, as has been
shown; and how wonderful was his love that lasted and
was upheld still! The love of any mere man or angel
would doubtless have sunk under such a weight, and never
would have endured such a conflict in such a bloody
sweat as that of Jesus Christ. The anguish of Christ's
soul at that time was so strong as to cause that wonderful
effect on his body. But his love to his enemies, poor and
unworthy as they were, was stronger still. The heart of
Christ at that time was full of distress, but it was fuller of
love to vile worms : his sorrows abounded, but his love
did much more abound. Christ's soul was overwhelmed
with a deluge of grief, but this was from a deluge of love
to sinners in his heart sufficient to overflow the world, and
overwhelm the highest mountains of its sins. Those great
drops of blood that fell down to the ground were a mani
festation of an ocean of love in Christ's heart.
2. The strength of Christ's love more especially appears
in this, that when he had such a full view ofthe dreadful
ness of the cup that he was to drink, that so amazed him,
he would notwithstanding even then take it up, and drink
it. Then seems to have been the greatest and most pe
culiar trial of the strength of the love of Christ, when God
set down the bitter portion before him, and let him see
what he had to drink, if he persisted in his love to sin
ners; and brought him to the mouth of the furnace that he
might see its fierceness, and have a full view of it, and
have time then to consider whether he would go in and suffer
the flames of this furnace for such unworthy creatures, or
not. This was as it were proposing it to Christ's last con
sideration what he would do ; as much as if it had then
been said to him, ' Here is the cup that you are to drink,
unless vou will give up your undertaking for sinners, and
even leave them to perish as they deserve. Will you take
this cup, and drink it for them, or not ? There is the fur
nace into which you are to be cast, if they are to be saved ;
either they must perish, or you must endure this for them.

There you see how terrible the heat of the furnace is ; you
see what pain and anguish you must endure on the mor
row, unless you give up the cause of sinners. What will
you do ? is your love such that you will go on ? Will you
cast yourself into this dreadful furnace of wrath ?' Christ's
soul was overwhelmed with the thought ; his feeble hu
man nature shrunk at the dismal sight. It put him into
this dreadful agony which you have heard described; but
his love to sinners held out. Christ would not undergo
these sufferings needlessly, if sinners could be saved
without. If there was not an absolute necessity of his
suffering them in order to their salvation, he desired that
the cup might pass from him. But if sinners, on whom
he had set his love, could not, agreeably to the will of God,
be saved without his drinking it, he chose that the will of
God should be done. He chose to go on and endure the
suffering, awful as it appeared to him. And this was his
final conclusion, after the dismal conflict of his poor feeble
human nature, after he had had the cup in view, and for at
least the space of one hour, had seen how amazing it was.
Still he finally resolved that he would bear it, rather than
those poor sinners whom he had loved from all eternity
should perish. When the dreadful cup was before him,
he did not say within himself, why should I, who am so
great and glorious a person, infinitely more honourable
than all the angels of heaven, Why should I go to plunge
myself into such dreadful, amazing torments for worthless
wretched worms that cannot be profitable to God, or me,
and that deserve to be hated by me, and not to be loved ?
Why should I, who have been living from all eternity in
the enjoyment of the Father's love, go to east myself into
such a furnace for them that never can requite me for it 1
Why should I yield myself to be thus crushed by the
weight of divine wrath, for them who have no love to me,
and are my enemies? they do not deserve any union with
me, and never did, and never will do, any thing to recom
mend themselves to me. What shall I be the richer for
having saved a number of miserable haters of God and me,
who deserve to have divine justice glorified in their destruc
tion? Such, however, was not the language of Christ's
heart, in these circumstances ; but on the contrary, his love
held out, and he resolved even then, in the midst of his
agonv, to yield himself up to the will of God, and to take
the cup arid drink it. He would not flee to get out of the
way of Judas and those that were with him, though he
knew they were coming, but that same hour delivered him
self voluntarily into their hands. When they came with
swords and staves to apprehend him, and he could have
called upon his Father, who would immediately have sent
many legions of angels to repel his enemies, and have de
livered him, he would not do it ; and when his disciples
would have made resistance, he would not suffer them, as
vou may see in Matt. xxvi. 51, and onward: "And, be
hold, one of them which were with Jesus stretched out
his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant ofthe
high priest's, and smote off his ear. Then said Jesus unto
him, Put up again thy sword into its place : for all they
that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest
thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he will
presently give me more than twelve legions of angels ?
But how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it
must be? In that same hour said Jesus to the multitudes,
Are ve come out as against a thief, with swords and staves
for to take me ? I sat daily with you teaching in the tem
ple, and ye laid no hold on me. But all this was done that
the scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled." And
Christ, instead of hiding himself from Judas and the
soldiers, told them, when they seemed to be at a loss
whether he was the person whom they sought ; and when
they seemed still somewhat to hesitate, being seized with
some terror in their minds, he told them so again, and so
yielded himself up into their hands, to be bound by them,
after he had shown them that he could easily resist them if
he pleased, when a single word spoken by him, threw them
backwards to the ground, as you may see in John xviii. 3,
&c. " Judas then, having received a band of men and
officers from the chief priests and Pharisees, cometh
thither with lanterns, and torches, and weapons. Jesus
therefore, knowing all things that should come upon him;
went forth, and said unto them, Whom seek ye ? They

870

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

answered him, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus said unto them,
I am he. As soon then as he had said unto them, I am
he, they went backward and fell to the ground." Thus
powerful, constant, and violent was the love of Christ ; and
the special trial of his love above all others in his whole life
seems to have been in the time of his agony. For though
his suffering were greater afterwards, when he was on the
cross, yet he saw clearly what those sufferings were to be,
in the time of his agony ; and that seems to have been the
first time that ever Christ Jesus had a clear view what these
sufferings were ; and after this the trial was not so great,
because the onflictwas over. His human nature had been
in a struggle with his love to sinners, but his love had got
the victory. The thing, upon a full view of his sufferings,
had been revived on and concluded; and accordingly,
when the moment arrived, he actually went through with
those sufferings.
But there are two circumstances of Christ's agony that
do still make the strength and constancy of his love to
sinners the more conspicuous.
1 . That at the same time that he had such a view of the
dreadfulness of his sufferings, he had also an extraordinary
view of the hatefulness of the wickedness of those for
whom those sufferings were to make atonement. There
are two things that render Christ's love wonderful : 1 .
That he should be willing to endure sufferings that were
so great; and 2. That he should be willing to endure them
to make atonement for wickedness that was so great. But
in order to its being properly said, Christ of his own act
and choice endured sufferings that were so great, to make
atonement for wickedness that was so great, two things
were necessary. 1. That he should have an extraordinary
sense how great these sufferings were to be, before he
endured them. This was given in his agony. And 2. That
he should also at the same time have an extraordinary
sense how great and hateful was the wickedness of men
for which he suffered to make atonement ; or how un
worthy those were for whom he died. And both these
were given at the same time. When Christ had such an
extraordinary sense how bitter his cup was to be, he had
much to make him sensible how unworthy and hateful
that wickedness of mankind was for which he suffered ;
because the hateful and malignant nature of that corrup
tion never appeared more fully than in the spite and
cruelty of men in these sufferings ; and yet his love was
such that he went on notwithstanding to suffer for them
who were full of such hateful corruption.
It was the corruption and wickedness of men that con
trived and effected his death ; it was the wickedness of
men that agreed with Judas, it was the wickedness of men
that betrayed him, and that apprehended him, and bound
him, and led him away like a malefactor ; it was by men's
corruption and wickedness that he was arraigned, and
falsely accused, and unjustly judged. It was by men's
wickedness lhat he was reproached, mocked, buffeted, and
spit upon. It was by men's wickedness that Barabbas
was preferred before him. It was men's wickedness that
laid the cross upon him to bear, and that nailed him to it,
and put him to so cruel and ignominious a death. This
tended to give Christ an extraordinary sense of the great
ness and hatefulness of the depravity of mankind.
1. Because hereby in the time of his sufferings he had
that depravity set before him as it is, without disguise.
When it killed Christ, it appeared in its proper colours.
Here Christ saw it in its true nature, which is the utmost
hatred and contempt of God ; in its ultimate tendency
and desire, which is to kill God ; and in its greatest aggra
vation and highest act, which is killing a person that was
God. 2. Because in these sufferings he felt the fruits of that
wickedness. It was then directly levelled against himself,
and exerted itself against him to work his reproach and
torment, which tended to impress a stronger sense of its
hatefulness on the human nature of Christ. But yet at
the same time, so wonderful was the love of Christ to
those who exhibited this hateful corruption,that he endured
those very sufferings to deliver them from the punishment
of that very corruption. The wonderfulness of Christ's
dying love appears partly in that he died for those that
were so unworthy in themselves, as all mankind have the

same kind of corruptions in their hearts, and partly in that
he died for those who were not only so wicked, but whose
wickedness consists in being enemies to him ; so that he
did not only die for the wicked, but for his own enemies;
and partly in that he was willing to die for his enemies at
the same time that he was feeling the fruits of their enmity,
while he felt the utmost effects and exertions of their spite
against him in the greatest possible contempt and cruelty
towards him in his own greatest ignominy, torments, and
death ; and partly in that he was willing to atone for
their being his enemies in these very sufferings, and by
that very ignominy, torment, and death that was the fruit
of it. The sin and wickedness of men, for which Christ
suffered to make atonement, was, as it were, set before
Christ in his view.
1. In that this wickedness was but a sample of the
wickedness of mankind ; for the corruption of all man
kind is of the same nature, and the wickedness that is in
one man's heart is of the same nature and tendency as in
another's. As in water, face answereth to face, so the
heart of man to man.
2. It is probable that Christ died to make atonement for
that individual actual wickedness that wrought his suffer--
ings, that reproached, mocked, buffeted, and crucified him.
Some of his crucifiers, for whom he prayed that they
might be forgiven, while they were in the very act of
crucifying him, were afterwards, in answer to his prayer,
converted, by the preaching of Peter; as we have" an
account of in the 2d chapter of Acts.
2. Another circumstance of Christ's agony that shows
the strength of his love, is the ungrateful carriage of his dis
ciples at that time. Christ's disciples were among those
for whom he endured this agony, and among those for
whom he was going to endure those last sufferings, of
which he now had such dreadful apprehensions. Yet
Christ had already given them an interest in the benefits
of those sufferings. Their sins had already been forgiven
them through that blood that he was going to shed, and
they had been infinite gainers already by that dying pity and
love which he had to them, and had through his sufferings
been distinguished from all the world besides. Christ
had put greater honour upon them than any other, by
making them his disciples in a more honourable sense
than he had done any other. And yet now, when he had
that dreadful cup set before him which he was going to
drink for them, and was in such an agony at the sight of
it, he saw no return on their part but indifference and in
gratitude. When he only desired them to watch with
him, that he might be comforted in their company, now
at this sorrowful moment they fell asleep ; and showed
that they had not concern enough about it to induce them
to keep awake with him even for one hour, though he
desired it of them once and again. But yet this ungrate
ful treatment of theirs, for whom he was to drink the cup
of wrath which God had set before him, did not discour
age him from taking it, and drinking it for them. His
love held out to them ; having loved his own, he loved
them to the end. He did not say within himself when
this cup of trembling was before him, Why should I endure
so much for those that are so ungrateful ; why should I
here wrestle with the expectation of the terrible wrath of
God to be borne by me to-morrow, for them that in the
mean time have not so much concern for me as to keep
awake with me when I desire it of them even for one hour?
But on the contrary, witb tender and fatherly compassions
he excuses this ingratitude of his disciples, and says, Matt.
xxvi. 41. " Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temp
tation ; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak ;"
and went and was apprehended, and mocked, and scourge
ed, and crucified, and poured out his soul unto death,
under the heavy weight of God's dreadful wrath on the
cross for them.
3d Inference. From what has been said, we may learrr
the wonderfulness of Christ's submission to the will of
God. Christ, as he was a divine person, was the absolute
sovereign of heaven and earth, but yet he was the most
wonderful instance of submission to God's sovereignty
that ever was. When he had such a view of the terrible
ness of his last sufferings, and prayed if it were possible
that that cup might pass from him, i. e. if there was not an

SERMON VI.

871

absolute necessity of it in order to the salvation of sinners,
yet it was with a perfect submission to the will of God.
He adds, " Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done."
He chose rather that the inclination of his human nature,
which so much dreaded such exquisite torments, should
be crossed, than that God's will should not take place.
He delighted in the thought of God's will being done ;
and when he went and prayed the second time, he had
nothing else to say but, " O my Father, if this cup may
not pass from me" except I drink it, thy will be done ;*'
and so the third time. What are such trials of submission
as any of us sometimes have in the afflictions that we
suffer in comparison of this ? If God does but in his pro
vidence signify it to be his will that we should part with
a child, how hardly are we brought to yield to it, how
ready to be unsubmissive and froward ! Or if God lays
his hand upon us in some acute pain of body, how ready
are we to be discontented and impatient ; when the inno
cent Son of God, who deserved no suffering, could quietly
submit to sufferings inconceivably great, and say it over
and over, God's will be done ! When he was brought and
set before that dreadful furnace of wrath into which he
was to be cast, in order that he might look into it and have
a full view of its fierceness, when his flesh shrunk at it,
and his nature was in such a conflict, that his body was
all covered with a sweat of blood falling in great drops to
the ground, yet his soul quietly yielded that the will of
God should be done, rather than the will or inclination of
his human nature.
4th Infer. What has been said on this subject also
shows us the glory of Christ's obedience. Christ was
subject to the moral law as Adam was, and he was also
subject to the ceremonial and judicial laws of Moses ;
but the principal command that he had received of the
Father was, that he should lay down his life, that he should
voluntarily yield up himself to those terrible sufferings on
the cross. To do this was his principal errand into the
world; and doubtless the principal command that he re
ceived, was about that which was the principal errand on
which he was sent. The Father, when he sent him into
the world, sent him with commands concerning what he
should do in the world ; and his chief command of all
was about that, which was the errand he was chiefly sent
upon, which was to lay down his life. And therefore this
command was the principal trial of his obedience. It
was the greatest trial of his obedience, because it was by
far the most difficult command : all the rest were easy in
comparison of this. And the main trial that Christ had,
whether he would obey this command, was in the time of
his agony ; for that was within an hour before be was ap
prehended in order to his sufferings, when he must either
yield himself up to them, or fly from them. And then it
was the first time that Christ had a full view of the diffi
culty of this command ; which appeared so great as to
cause that bloody sweat. Then was the conflict of weak
human nature with the difficulty, then was the sore struggles
and wrestling with the heavy trial he had, and then Christ
got the victory over the temptation, from the dread of his
human nature. His obedience held out through the con
flict. Then we may suppose that Satan was especially let
loose to set in with the natural dread that the human
nature had of such torments, and to strive to his utmost
to dissuade Christ from going on to drink the bitter cup :
for about that time, towards the close of Christ's life, was
he especially delivered up into the hands of Satan to be
tempted of him, more than he was immediately after his
baptism ; for Christ says, speaking of that time, Luke
xxii. 53. " When I was daily with you in the temple, ye
stretched forth no hands against me ; but this is your
hour, and the power of darkness." So that Christ, in the
time of his agony, was wrestling not only with overwhelm
ing views of his last sufferings, but he also wrestled, in that
bloody sweat, with principalities and powers — ne con
tended at that time with the great leviathan that laboured
to his utmost to tempt him to disobedience. So that then
Christ had temptations every way to draw him off from
obedience to God. He had temptations from his feeble
human nature, that exceedingly dreaded such torments ;
and he had temptations from men, who were his enemies ;
and he had temptations from the ungrateful carriage of his

own disciples ; and he had temptations from the devil. He
had also an overwhelming trial from the manifestation of
God's own wrath ; when, in the words of Isaiah, it pleased
the Lord to bruise him and put him to grief. But yet he
failed not, but got the victory over all, and performed that
great act of obedience at that time to that same God that
hid himself from him, and was showing his wrath to him
for men's sins, which he must presently suffer. Nothing
could move him away from his stedfast obedience to God,
but he persisted in saying, "Thy will be done :" express
ing not only his submission, but his obedience ; not only
his compliance with the disposing will of God, but also
with his preceptive will. God had given him this cup to
drink, and had commanded him to drink it, and that was
reason enough with him to drink it ; hence he says, at the
conclusion of his agony, when Judas came with his band,
"The cup which my Father giveth me to drink, shall I
not drink it?" John xviii. 11. Christ, at the time of his
agony, had an inconceivably greater trial of obedience than
any man or any angel ever had. How much was this trial
of the obedience of the second Adam beyond the trial of
the obedience of the first Adam ! How light was our first
father's temptation in comparison of this ! And yet our
first surety failed, and our second failed not, but obtained
a glorious victory, and went and became obedient unto
death, even the death of the cross. Thus wonderful and
glorious was the obedience of Christ, by which he wrought
out righteousness for believers, and which obedience is
imputed to them. No wonder that it is a sweet penalty
sown, and that God stands ready to bestow heaven as its
reward on all that believe on him.
5. What has been said shows us the sottishness of
secure sinners in being so fearless of the wrath of God.
If the wrath of God was so dreadful, that, when Christ
only expected it, his human nature was nearly overwhelmed
with the fear of it, and his soul was amazed, and his body
all over in a bloody sweat ; then how sottish are sinners,
who are under the threatening of the same wrath of God,
and are condemned to it, and are every moment exposed
to it ; and yet, instead of manifesting intense apprehension,
are quiet and easy, and unconcerned ; instead of being
sorrowful and very heavy, go about with a light and care
less heart; instead of crying out in bitter agony, are often
gay and cheerful, and eat and drink, and sleep quietly, and
go on in sin, provoking the wrath of God more and more,
without any great matter of concern ! How. stupid and
sottish are such persons ! Let such senseless sinners con
sider, that that misery, of which they are in danger from
the wrath of God, is infinitely more terrible than that, the
fear of which occasioned in Christ his agony and bloody
sweat. It is more terrible, both as it differs both in its
nature and degree, and also as it differs in its duration.
1 1 is more terrible in its nature and degree. Christ suffered
that which, as it upheld the honour of the divine law, was
fully equivalent to the misery of the damned ; and in
some, respect it was the same suffering ; for it was the
wrath ofthe same God ; but yet in other respects it vastly
differed. The difference does notarise from the difference
in the wrath poured out on one and the other, for it is the
same wrath, but from the difference of the subject, which
may be best illustrated from Christ's own comparison.
Luke xxiii. 31. "For if they do these things in a green
tree, what shall be done in the dry ? '' Here he calls him
self the green tree, and wicked men the dry, intimating
that the misery that will come on wicked men will be far
more dreadful than those sufferings which came on him,
and the difference arises from the different nature of the
subject. The green tree and the dry are both cast into the
fire ; but the flames seize and kindle on the dry tree much
more fiercely than on the green. The sufferings that Christ
endured differ from the misery of the wicked in hell in
nature and degree in the following respects.
1. Christ felt not the gnawings of a guilty, condemning
conscience. 2. He felt no torment from the reigning of inward cor
ruptions and lusts as the damned do. The wicked in hell
are their own tormentors, their lusts are their tormentors,
and being without restraint, (for there is no restraining
grace in hell,) their lusts will rage like raging flames in
their hearts. They shall be tormented with the unre-

872

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

strained violence of a spirit of envy and malice against
God, and against the angels and saints in heaven, and
against one another. Now Christ suffered nothing of this.
3. Christ had not to consider that God hated him. The
wicked in hell have this to make their misery perfect, they
know that God perfectly hates them without the least pity
or regard to them, which will fill their souls with inex
pressible misery. But it was not so with Christ. God
withdrew his comfortable presence from Christ, and hid
his face from him, and so poured out his wrath upon him,
as made him feel its terrible effects in his soul ; but yet
he knew at the same time that God did not hate him, but
infinitely loved him. He cried out of God's forsaking
him, but yet at the same time calls him " My God, my
God ! " knowing that he was his God still, though he
had forsaken him. But the wicked in hell will know
that he is not their God, but their judge and irreconcile-
able enemy.
4. Christ did not suffer despair, as the wicked do in
hell . He knew that there would be an end to his suffer
ings in a few hours ; and that after that he should enter
into eternal glory. But it will be far otherwise with you
that are impenitent; if you die in your present condition,
you will be in perfect despair. On these accounts, the
misery of the wicked in hell will be immensely more
dreadful in nature and degree, than those sufferings with
the fears of which Christ's soul was so much overwhelmed.
2. It will infinitely differ in duration. Christ's sufferings
lasted but a few hours, and there was an eternal end to
them, and eternal glory succeeded. But you that are a
secure, senseless sinner, are every day exposed to be cast
into everlasting misery, a fire that never shall be quenched.
If then the Son of God was in such amazement, in the
expectation of what he was to suffer for a few hours, how
sottish are you who are continually exposed to sufferings,
immensely more dreadful in nature and degree, and that
are to be without any end, but which must be endured
without any rest day or night for ever and ever ! If you
had a full sense of the greatness of that misery to which
you are exposed, and how dreadful your present condition
is on that account, it would this moment put you into as
dreadful an agony as that which Christ underwent ; yea,
if your nature could endure it, one much more dreadful.
We should now see you fall down in a bloody sweat,
wallowing in your gore, and crying out in terrible amaze
ment. Having thus endeavoured to explain and illustrate the
former of the two propositions mentioned in the com
mencement of this discourse, I shall now proceed to show,
II. That the soul of Christ in his agony in the garden
was in a great and earnest strife and conflict in his prayer
to God. The labour and striving of Christ's soul in prayer
was a part of his agony, and was without doubt a part of
¦ what is intended in the text, when it is said that Christ
was in an agony; for, as we have shown, the word is
especially used in Scripture in other places for striving or
wrestling with God in prayer. From this fact, and from
the evangelist mentioning his being in agony, and his
praying earnestly in the same sentence, we may well
understand him as mentioning his striving in prayer as
part of his agony. The words of the text seem to hold
forth as much as that Christ was in an agony in prayer :
" Being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly ; and his
sweat was, as it were, great" drops of blood falling to the
ground." This language seems to imply thus much, that
the labour and earnestness of Christ's soul was so great in
his wrestling with God in prayer, that he was in a mere
agony, and all over in a sweat of blood.
What I propose now, in this second proposition, is by
the help of God to explain this part of Christ's agony
which consisted in the agonizing and wrestling of his soiil
in prayer ; which is the more worthy of a particular in
quiry, being that which probably is but little understood ;
though, as may appear in the sequel, the right under
standing of it is of great use and consequence m divinity.
It is not as I conceive ordinarily well understood what is
meant when it is said in the text that Christ prayed more
earnestly; or what was the thing that he wrestled with
God for, or what was the subject matter of this earnest

prayer, or what was the reason of his being so very earnest
in prayer at this time. And therefore, to set this whole
matter in a clear light, I would particularly inquire,
1. Of what nature this prayer was ;
2. What was the subject matter of this earnest prayer
of Christ to the Father ;
3. In what capacity Christ offered up this prayer to
God ;
4. Why he was so earnest in his prayer ;
5. What was the success of this" his earnest wrestling
with God in prayer; and then make some improvement.
I. Of what nature this prayer of Christ was.
Addresses that are made to God may be of various
kinds. Some are confessions on the part of the individual,
or expressions of his sense of his own unworthiness before
God, and are thus penitential addresses to God. Others
are doxologies or prayers intended to express the sense
which the person has of God's greatness and glory. Such
are many of the psalms of David. Others are gratulatory
addresses, or expressions of thanksgiving and praise for
mercies received. Others are submissive addresses, or
expressions of submission and resignation to the will of
God, whereby he that addresses the Majesty of heaven, ex
presses the compliance of his will with the sovereign will of
God; saying, "Thy will, O Lord, be done!" as David,
2 Sam. xv. 26. " But if he thus say, I have no delight in
thee ; behold, here am I ; let him do to me as seemeth
good unto him." Others are petitory or supplicatory;
whereby the person that prays, begs of God and cries to
him for some favour desired of him.
Hence the inquiry is, of which of these kinds was the
prayer of Christ, that we read of in the text.
Answer. It was chiefly supplicatory. It was not peni
tential or confessional ; for Cnrist had no sin or unworthi
ness to confess. Nor was it a doxology or a thanksgiving ;
or merely an expression of submission ; for none of these
agree with what is said in the text, viz. that he prayed
more earnestly. When any one is said to pray earnestly,
it implies an earnest request for some benefit, or favour
desired ; and not merely a confession, or submission, or
gratulation. So what the apostle says of this prayer, in
Heb. v. 7. " Who in the days of his flesh, when he had
offered up prayers and supplications, with strong crying
and tears, unto him that was able to save him from death,
and was heard, in that he feared," shows that it was peti
tory, or an earnest supplication for some desired benefit.
They are not confessions, or doxologies, or thanksgivings.
or resignations, that are called " supplications" and " strong
cryings," but petitions for some benefit earnestly desired
And naving thus resolved the first inquiry, and shown
that this earnest prayer of Christ was of the nature of a
supplication for some benefit or favour which Christ
earnestly desired, I come to inquire,
II. What was the subject matter of this supplication ;
or what favour and benefit that was for which Christ so
earnestly supplicated in this prayer of which we have an
account in the text. Now the words of the text are not
express on this matter. It is said that Christ, " being in
an agony, prayed more earnestly ;" but yet it is not said
what he prayed so earnestly for. And here is the greatest
difficulty attending this account : even what that was
which Christ so earnestly desired, for which he so wrestled
with God at that time. And though we are not expressly
told in the text, yet the Scriptures have not left us without
sufficient light in this matter. And the more effectually to
avoid mistakes, I would answer,
1 . Negatively, the thing that Christ so earnestly prayed
for at this time, was not that the bitter cup which he had
to drink might pass from him. Christ had before prayed
for this, as in the next verse but one before the text, say
ing, " Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from
me ! nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done ! It is
after this that we have an account that Christ being in an
agony, prayed more earnestly ; but we are not to under
stand that he prayed more earnestly than he had done
before, that the cup might pass from him. That this was
not the thing that he so earnestly prayed for in this second
prayer, the following things seem to prove :
1 . This second prayer was after the angel had appeared
to him from heaven, strengthening him, the more cheer-

SERMON VI.

873

fully to take the cup and drink it. The evangelists inform
us that when Christ came into tlie garden, he began to be
sorrowful, and very heavy, and that he said his soul was
exceeding sorrowful, even unto death, and that then he
went and prayed to God, that if it were possible the cup
might pass from him. Luke says in the 41 st and 42nd
verses, " that being withdrawn from his disciples about a
stone's cast, he kneeled down and prayed, saying, Father,
if thou be willing, remove this cup from me ; nevertheless,
not my will, but thine be done !" And then, after this, it
is said in the next verse, that there appeared an angel from
heaven unto him strengthening him. Now this can be
understood no otherwise than that the angel appeared to
him, strengthening him and encouraging him to go
through his great and difficult work, to take the cup and
drink it. Accordingly we must suppose, that now Christ
was more strengthened and encouraged to go through
with his sufferings : and therefore we cannot suppose that
after this he would pray more earnestly than before to be
delivered from his sufferings ; and of course that it was
something else that Christ more earnestly prayed for, after
that strengthening of the angel, and not that the cup might
pass from him. Though Christ seems to have a greater
sight of his sufferings given him after this strengthening of
the angel than before, that caused such an agony, yet he
was more strengthened to fit him for a greater sight of
them, he had greater strength and courage to grapple with
these awful apprehensions, than before. His strength to
bear sufferings is increased with the sense of his sufferings.
2. Christ, before his second prayer, had had an intima
tion from the Father, that it was not his will that the cup
should pass from him. The angel's coming from heaven
to strengthen him must be so understood. Christ first
prays, that if it may be the will of the Father, the cup
might pass ; but not, if it was not his will ; and then God
immediately upon this sends an angel to strengthen, and
encourage him to take the cup, which was a plain intima
tion to Christ that it was the Father's will that he should
take it, and that it should not pass from him. And so
Christ received it ; as appears from the account which
Matthew gives of this second prayer. Matt. xxvi. 42.
" He went away again the second time and prayed, say
ing, 0 my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me
except I drink it, thy will be done." He speaks as one
that now had had an intimation, since he prayed before,
that it was not the will of God. And Luke tells us how,
viz. by God's sending an angel. Matthew informs us, as
Luke does, that in his first prayer, he prayed that if it
were possible the cup might pass from him ; but then God
sends an angel to signify that it was not his will, and to
encourage him to take it. And then Christ having re
ceived this plain intimation that it was not the will of God
that the cup should pass from him, yields to the message
he had received, and says, O my Father, if it be so as thou
hast now signified, thy will be done. Therefore we may
surely conclude that what Christ prayed more earnestly
for after this, was not that the cup might pass from him, but
something else ; for he would not go to pray more earnestly
that the cup might pass from him, after God had signified
that it was not his will that it should pass from him, than
he did before ; that would be blasphemous to suppose.
And then,
3dly, The language of the second prayer, as recited by
Matthew, " O my Father, if this cup may not pass from
me except I drink it, thy will be done," shows that Christ
did not then pray that the cup might pass from him. This
certainly is not praying more earnestly that the cup might
pass : it is rather a yielding that point, and ceasing any
more to urge it, and submitting to it as a thing now deter
mined by the wili of God, made known by the angel. And,
4. From the apostle's account of this prayer in the
5th ch. of Hebrews, the words of the apostle are these,
" Who in the days of his flesh, when he had offered up
his prayers and supplications, with strong crying and tears,
unto him that was able to save him from death, and was
heard in that he feared." The strong crying and tears of
which the apostle speaks, are doubtless the same that Luke
speaks of in the text, when he says, " he being in an
agony, prayed more earnestly ;" for this was the sharpest
and most earnest crying of Christ, of which we have any

where any account. But according to the apostle's account,
that which Christ feared, and that for which he so strongly
cried to God in this prayer, was something that he was
heard in, something that God granted him his request in,
and therefore it was not that the cup might pass from him.
Having thus shown what it was not that Christ prayed for
in this earnest prayer, I proceed to show,
2nd, What it was that Christ so earnestly sought of God
in this prayer.
I answer in one word, it was, That God's will might be
done, in what related to his sufferings. Matthew gives this
express account of it, in the very language of the prayer
which has been recited several times already, " O my
Father, if this cup may not pass from me, except I drink
it, thy will be done 1 " This is a yielding, and an expres
sion of submission ; but it is not merely that. Such words,
" The will of the Lord be done," as they are most com
monly used, are not understood as a supplication or re
quest, but only as an expression of submission. But the
words are not always to be understood in that sense in
Scripture, but sometimes are to be understood as a request.
So they are to be understood in the third petition of the
Lord's prayer, " Thy will be done in earth as in heaven."
There the words are to be understood both as an expres
sion of submission, and also a request, as they are ex
plained in the Assembly's Catechism, and so the words
are to be understood here. The evangelist Mark says that
Christ went away again and spake the same words that he
had done in his first prayer. Mark xiv. 39. But then we
must understand it as of the same words with the latter
part of his first prayer, " nevertheless not my will but
thine be done," as Matthew's more full and particular ac
count shows. So that the thing mentioned in the text, for
which Christ was wrestling with God in this prayer, was,
that God's will might be done in what related to his
sufferings. But then here another inquiry may arise, viz. What is
implied in Christ's praying that God's will might be done
in what related to his sufferings ? To this I answer,
1. This implies a request that he might be strengthened
and supported, and enabled to do God's will, by going
through with these sufferings. Tlie same as when he says,
" Lo, I come, in the volume of the book it is written of
me, to do thy will, O God." It was the preceptive will
of God that he should take that cup and drink it : it was
the Father's command to him. The Father had given him
the cup, and as it were set it down before him with the
command that he should drink it. This was the greatest
act of obedience that Christ was to perform. He prays
for strength and help, that his poor feeble human nature
might be supported, that he might not fail in this great
trial, that he might not sink and be swallowed up, and his
strength so overcome that he should not hold out, and
finish the appointed obedience. This was the thing that
he feared, of which the apostle speaks in the 5th of He
brews, when he says, " he was heard in that he feared."
When he had such an extraordinary sense of the dreadful
ness of his sufferings impressed on his mind, the fearful
ness of it amazed him. He was afraid lest his poor feeble
strength should be overcome, and that he should fail in so
great a trial, that he should be swallowed up by that death
that he was to die, and so should not be saved from death;
and therefore he offered up strong crying and tears unto
him that was able to strengthen him, and support, and
save him from death, that the death he was to suffer might
not overcome his love and obedience, but lhat he might
overcome death, and so be saved from it. If Christ's
courage had failed in the trial, and he had not held out
under his dying sufferings, he never would have been saved
from death, but he would have sunk in the deep mire;
he never would have risen from the dead, for his rising
from the dead was a reward of his victory. If his courage
had failed, and he had given up, he would have remained
from under the power of death, and so we should all have
perished, we should have remained vet in our sins. If he
had failed, all would have failed. If he had not overcome
in that sore conflict, neither he nor we could have been
freed from death, we all must have perished together.
Therefore this was the saving from death that the apostle
speaks of, that Christ feared and prayed for with strong

074

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

crying and tears. His being overcome of death was the
thing that he feared, and so he was heard in that he feared.
This Christ prayed, that the will of God might be done in
his sufferings, even that he might not fail of obeying God's
will in his sufferings ; and therefore it follows in the next
verse in that passage of Hebrews, " Though he were a Son,
yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered."
That it was in this respect that Christ in his agony so
earnestly prayed that the will of God might be done, viz.
that he might have strength to do his will, and might not
sink and fail in such great sufferings ; is confirmed from the
scriptures of the Old Testament, as particularly from the
69th Psalm. The psalmist represents Christ in that psalm,
as is evident from the fact that the words of that psalm are
represented as Christ's words in many places of the New
Testament. That psalm is represented as Christ's prayer to
God when his soul was overwhelmed with sorrow and
amazement, as it was in his agony ; as you may see in the
1st and 2nd verses, " Save me, 0 God, for the waters are
come in unto my soul : I sink in deep mire, where there is
no standing : I am come into deep waters, where the floods
overflow me." But then the thing that is represented as being
the thing that he feared, was failing, and being overwhelmed,
in this great trial : verses 14 and 15. " Deliver me out of
the mire, and let me not sink : let me be delivered from
them that hate me, and out of the deep waters. Let not
the water-flood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow
me up, and let not the pit shut her mouth upon me." So
again in the 22d Psalm, which is also represented as the
prayer of Christ under his dreadful sorrow and sufferings,
verses 19, 20, 21 . " But be not thou far from me, O Lord ;
O my Strength, haste thee to help me. Deliver my soul
from the sword ; my darling from the power of the dog.
Save me from the lion's mouth." It was meet and suit
able that Christ, when about to engage in that terrible
conflict, should thus earnestly seek help from God to
enable him to do his will ; for he needed God's help — the
strength of his human nature, without divine help, was not
sufficient to carry him through. This was, without doubt,
that in which the first Adam failed in his first trial, that
when the trial came he was not sensible of his own weak
ness and dependence. If he had been, and had leaned on
God, and cried to him for his assistance and strength against
the temptation, in all likelihood we should have remained
innocent and happy creatures to this day.
2. lt implies a request that God's will and purpose might
be obtained in the effects and fruits of his sufferings, in
the glory to his name, that was his design in them ; and
particularly in the glory of his grace, in the eternal salva
tion and happiness of his elect. This is confirmed by
John xii. 27, 28. " Now is my soul troubled ; and what
shall I say ? — Father, save me from this hour : but for
this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy
name. Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I
have both glorified, and will glorify it again." There the
first request is the same with the first request of Christ
here in like trouble : " Now is my soul troubled ; and what
shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour." He first
Iirays, as he does here, that he might be saved from his
ast sufferings. Then, after he was determined within
himself that the will of God must be otherwise, that he
should not be saved from that hour, " but for this cause,"
says he, " came I to this hour';" and then his second re-
3uest after this is, " Father, glorify thy name !" So this is
oubtless the purport of the second request in his agony,
when he prayed that God's will might be done. It is that
God's will might be done in that glory to his own name
that he intended in the effects and fruits of his sufferings,
that seeing that it was his will that he should suffer, he
earnestly prays that the end of his suffering, in the glory of
God and the salvation of the elect, may not fail. And
these things are what Christ so earnestly wrestled with
God for in his prayer, of which we have an account in the
text, and we have no reason to think that they were not
expressed in prayer as well as implied. It is not reason
able to suppose that the evangelist in his other account of
things mentions all the words of Christ's prayer. He only
mentions the substance.
III. In what capacity did Christ offer up those earnest
prayers to God in his agony ?

In answer to this inquiry, I observe that he offered therri
up not as a private person, but as high priest. The apostle
speaks of the strong crying and tears, as what Christ offered
up as high priest. Heb. v. 6, 7. " As he says also in an
other place, Thou art a priest for ever, after the order of
Melchisedek : who in the days of his flesh, when he had
offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying
and tears," &c. The things that Christ prayed for in those
strong cryings, were things not of a private nature, but of
common concern to the whole church of which he was the
high priest. That the will of God should be done in his
obedience unto death, that his strength and courage should
not fail, but that he should hold out, was of common con
cern ; for, if he had failed, all would have failed and
perished for ever. And of course, that God's name should
be glorified in the effects and fruits of his sufferings, and
in the salvation and glory of all his elect, was a thing of
common concern. Christ offered up these strong cries
with his flesh in the same manner as the priests of old were
wont to offer up prayers with their sacrifices. Christ mixed
strong crying and tears with his blood, and so offered up
his blood and his prayers together, that the effect and success
of his blood might be obtained. Such earnest agonizing
prayers were offered with his blood, and his infinitely pre
cious and meritorious blood was offered with his prayers.
IV. Why was Christ so earnest in those supplications ?
Luke speaks of them as very earnest ; the apostle speaks
of them as strong crying ; and his agony partly consisted
in this earnestness : and the account that Luke gives us,
seems to imply that his bloody sweat was partly at least
with the great labour and earnest sense of his soul in
wrestling with God in prayer. There were three things that
concurred at lhat time, especially to cause Christ to be thus
earnest and engaged.
1 . He had then an extraordinary sense how dreadful the
consequence would be, if God's will should fail of being
done. He had then an extraordinary sense of his own
last suffering under the wrath of God, and if he had failed
in those sufferings, he knew the consequence must be dread
ful. He having now such an extraordinary view of the
terribleness of the wrath of God, his love to the elect
tended to make him more than ordinarily earnest that they
might be delivered from suffering that wrath to all eternity,
which could not have been if he had failed of doing God's
will, or if the will of God in the effect of his suffering had
failed. 2. No wonder that that extraordinary sense that Christ
then had of the costliness of the means of sinners' salva
tion, made him very earnest for the success of those means,
as you have already heard.
3. Christ had an extraordinary sense of his dependence
on God, and his need of his help to enable him to do
God's will in this great trial. Though he was innocent,
yet he needed divine help. He was dependent on God,
as man, and therefore we read that he trusted in God.
Matt, xxvii. 43. " He trusted in God ; let him deliver him
now, if he will have him : for he said, I am the Son of
God." And when he had such an extraordinary sight of
the dreadfulness of that wrath he was to suffer, he saw
how much it was beyond the strength of his human nature
alone. V. What was the success of this prayer of Christ ?
To this I answer, He obtained all his requests. The
apostle says, " He was heard in that he feared ;" in all
that he feared. He obtained strength and help from God,
all that he needed, and was carried through. He was
enabled to do and to suffer the whole will of God ; and he
obtained the whole of the end of his sufferings — a full
atonement for the sins of the whole world, and the full
salvation of every one of those who were given him in the
covenant of redemption, and all that glory to the name of
God, which his mediation was designed to accomplish,
not one jot or tittle hath failed. Herein Christ in his agony
was above all others Jacob's antitype, in his wrestling with
God for a blessing ; which Jacob did, not as a private
person, but as the head of his posterity, the nation of
Israel, and by which he obtained that commendation of
God, " As a prince thou hast power with God ;" and
therein was a type of him who was the Prince of princes.

SERMON VI.

875

APPLICATION.
Great improvement may be made of the consideration
of the strong crying and tears of Christ in the days of his
flesh, many ways for our benefit.
1. This may teach us after what manner we should pray
to God, not in a cold and careless manner, but with great
earnestness and engagedness of spirit, and especially when
we are praying to God for those things that are of infinite
importance, such as spiritual and eternal blessings. Such
were the benefits that Christ prayed for with such strong
crying and tears, that he might be enabled to do God's
will in that great and difficult work that God had appoint
ed him, that he might not sink and fail, but might get the
victory, and so finally be delivered from death, and that
God's will and end might be obtained as the fruit of his
sufferings, intheglory of God, and the salvation ofthe elect.
When we go before God in prayer with a cold, dull
heart, and in a lifeless and listless manner pray to him for
eternal blessings, and those of infinite import to our souls,
we should think of Christ's earnest prayers that he poured
out to God, with tears and a bloody sweat. The con
sideration of it may well make us ashamed of our dull,
lifeless prayers to God, wherein, indeed, we rather ask a
denial than ask lo be heard ; for the language of such a
manner of praying to God, is, that we do not look upon
the benefit that we pray for as of any great importance,
that we are indifferent whether God answers us or not.
The example of Jacob in wrestling with God for the bless
ing, should teach us earnestness in our prayers, but more
especially the example of Jesus Christ, who wrestled with
God in a bloody sweat. If we were sensible as Christ
was of the great importance of those benefits that are of
eternal consequence, our prayers to God for such benefits
would be after another manner than now they are. Our
souls also would with earnest labour and strife be engaged
in this duty.
There are many benefits that we ask of God in our
prayers, which are every whit of as great importance to us
as those benefits which Christ asked of God in his agony
were to him. It is of as great importance to us that we
should be enabled to do the will of God, and perform a
sincere, universal, and persevering obedience to his com
mands, as it was to Christ that he should not fail of doing
God's will in his great work. It is of as great impoi'tance
to us to be saved from death, as it was to Christ that he
should get the victory over death, and so be saved from it.
It is of as great, and infinitely greater, importance to us,
that Christ's redemption should be successful in us, as it
was to him that God's will should be done, in the fruits
and success of his redemption.
Christ recommended earnest watchfulness and prayer
fulness to his disciples, by prayer and example, both at
the same time. When Christ was in his agony, and came
and found his disciples asleep, he bid them watch and
pray, Matt. xxvi. 41. " Watch and pray, that ye enter not
into temptation : the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh
is weak. At the same time he set them an example of that
which he commanded them, for though they slept he
watched, and poured out his soul in those earnest prayers
that you have heard of ; and Christ has elsewhere taught
us to ask those blessings of God that are of infinite im
portance, as those that will take no denial. We have
another example of the great conflicts and engagedness of
Christ's spirit in this duty. Luke vi. 12. " And it came
to pass in those days, that he went out into a mountain to
pray, and continued all night in prayer to God." And he
was often recommending earnestness in crying to God in
prayers. In the parable of the unjust judge, Luke xviii.
at the beginning ; " And he spake a parable unto thern to
this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint ;
saying, There was in a city a judge, which feared not God,
neither regarded man ; and there was a widow in that city ;
and she came unto him, saying, Avenge me of mine adver
sary. And he would not" for a while : but afterwards he
saith within himself, Though I fear not God nor regard
man, yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge
her, lest by her continual coming she weary me. And the
Lord said, Hear what the unjust judge saith." Luke xi.

5, &c. " And he said unto them* Which of you shall have
a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto
him. Friend, lend me three loaves ; for a friend of mine in
his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set be
fore him ? And he from within shall answer and say,
Trouble me not : the door is now shut, and my children
are with me in bed ; I cannot rise and give thee. I say
unto you, though he will not rise and give him because he
is his friend, yet because of his importunity, he will rise
and give him as many as he needeth." He taught it in
his own way of answering prayer, as in answering the
woman of Canaan, Matt. xv. 22, &c. "And behold a
woman of Canaan came out of the coasts, and cried unto
him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of
David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.
But he answered her not a word. And his disciples came
and besought him, saying, Send her away ; for she crieth
after us. But he answered and said, I am not sent but
unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Then came
she and worshipped him, saying, Lord, help me. But he
answered and said, It is not meet to take the children's bread
and cast it to dogs. And she said, Truth, Lord ; yet the
dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's
table. Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman,
great is thy faith; be it unto thee even as thou wilt.
And her daughter was made whole from that very hour."
And as Christ prayed in his agony, so I have already
mentioned several texts of Scripture wherein we are direct
ed to agonize in our prayers to God.
2. These earnest prayers and strong cries of Christ to
the Father in his agony, show the greatness of his love to
sinners. For, as has been shown, these strong cries of
Jesus Christ were what he offered up to God as a public
person, in the capacity of high priest, and in the behalf of
those whose priest he was- When he offered up his sa
crifice for sinners whom he had loved from eternity, he
withal offered up earnest prayers. His strong cries, his
tears, and his blood, were all offered up together to God,
and they were all offered up for the same end, for the glory
of God in the salvation of the elect. They were all offered
up for the same persons, viz. for his people. For them he
shed his blood in that bloody sweat, when it fell down in
clotted lumps to the ground ; and for them he so earnestly
cried to God at the same time;. It was that the will of
God might be done in the success of his sufferings, in the
success of that blood, in the salvation of those for whom
that blood was shed, and therefore this strong crying shows
his strong love ; it shows how greatly he desired the salva
tion of sinners. He cried to God that he might not sink
and fail in that great undertaking, because if he did so,
sinners could not be saved, but all must perish. He
prayed that he might get the victory over death, because if
he did not get the victory, his people could never obtain
that victory, and they can conquer no otherwise than by
his conquest. If the Captain of our salvation had not
conquered in this sore conflict, none of us could have
conquered, but we must have all sunk with him. He
cried to God that he might be saved from death, and if he
had not been saved from death in his resurrection, none
of us could ever have been saved from death. It was a
great sight to see Christ in that great conflict that he was
in in his agony, but every thing in it was from love, that
strong love that was in his heart. His tears that flowed
from his eyes were from love ; his great sweat was from
love ; his blood, his prostrating himself on the ground be
fore the Father, was from love ; his earnest crying to God
was from the strength and ardency of his love. It is looked
upon as one principal way wherein true love and good
will is shown in christian friends one Cowards another,
heartily to pray one for another ; and it is one way wherein
Christ directs us to show our love to our enemies, even
praying for them. Matt. v. 44. " But I say unto you,
Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, and pray -
for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you."
But was there ever any prayer that manifested love to
enemies to such a degree, as those strong cries and tears of
the Son of God for the success of his blood in the salva
tion of his enemies ; the strife and conflict of whose soul
in prayer was such as to produce his agony and his bloody
sweat ?

876

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

3. If Christ was thus earnest in prayer to God, that the
end of his sufferings might be obtained in the salvation of
sinners, then how much ought those sinners to be reproved
that do not earnestly seek their own salvation ! If Christ
offered up such strong cries for sinners as their high priest,
that bought their salvation, who stood in no need of sinners,
who had been happy from all eternity without them, and
could not be made happier by them ; then how great is the
sottishness of those sinners that seek their own salvation
in a dull and lifeless manner; that content themselves
with a formal attendance on the duties of religion, with
their hearts in the mean time much more earnestly set after
other things ! They after a sort attend on the duty of social
prayer, wherein they pray to God that he would have
mercy on them and save them ; but after what a poor dull
way is it that they do it ! they do not apply their heart unto
wisdom, nor incline their ear to understanding ; they do
not cry after wisdom, nor lift up their voice for understand
ing ; they do not seek it as silver, nor search for it as for
hidden treasures. Christ's earnest cries in his agony may
convince us that it was not without reason that he insisted
upon it, in Luke xiii. 24. that we should strive to enter in
at the strait gate, which, as I have already observed to you,
is, in the original, AT_nfe.8e, " Agonize to enter in at the
strait gate." If sinners would be in a hopeful way to ob
tain their salvation, they should agonize in that great con
cern as men that are taking a city by violence, as Matt. xi.
12. " And from the days of John the Baptist until now
the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent
take it by force." When a body of resolute soldiers are
attempting to take a strong city in which they meet with
great opposition, what violent conflicts are there before the
city is taken 1 How do the soldiers press on against the
very mouths of the enemies' cannon, and upon the points
of their swords ! When the soldiers are scaling the walls,
and making their first entrance into the city, what a violent
struggle is there between them and their enemies that
strive to keep them out ! How do they, as it were, agonize
with all their strength ! So ought we to seek our salvation,
if we would be in a likely way to obtain it. How great is
the folly then of those who content themselves with seek
ing with a cold and lifeless frame of spirit, and so continue
from month to month, and from year to year, and yet flat
ter themselves that they shall be successful !
How much more still are they to be reproved, who are
not in a way of seeking their salvation at all, but wholly
neglect their precious souls, and attend the duties of reli
gion no further than is just necessary to keep up their credit
among men ; and instead of pressing into the kingdom of
God, are rather violently pressing on towards their own
destruction and ruin, being hurried on by their many head
strong lusts, as the herd of swine were hurried on by the
legion of devils, and ran violently down a steep place into
the sea, and perished in the waters ! Matt. viii. 32.
4. From what has been said under this proposition, we
may learn after what manner Christians ought to go through
the work that is before them. Christ had a great work be
fore him when that took place, of which we have an ac
count in the text. Though it was very near the close of
his life, yet he then, when his agony began, had the chief
part of the work before him that he came into the world to
do ; which was to offer up that sacrifice which he offered in
his last sufferings, and therein to perform the greatest act
of his obedience to God. And so the Christians have a
great work to do, a service they are to perform to God, that
is attended with great difficulty. They have a race set be
fore them that they have to run, a warfare that is appointed
them. Christ was the subject of a very great trial in the
time of his agony ; so God is wont to exercise his people
with great trials. Christ met with great opposition in that
work that he had to do ; so believers are like to meet with
great opposition in running the race that is set before them.
•Christ, as man, had a feeble nature, that was in itself
very insufficient to sustain such a conflict, or to support
such a load as was coming upon him. So the saints have
the same weak human nature, and beside that, great sinful
infirmities that Christ had not, which lay them under great
disadvantages, and greatly enhance the difficulty of their
work. Those great tribulations and difficulties that were
before Christ, were the way in which he was to enter into

the kingdom of heaven ; so his followers must expect,
" through much tribulation to enter into the kingdom of
heaven." The cross was to Christ the way to the crown
of glory, and so it is to his disciples. The circumstances
of Christ and of his followers in those things are alike,
their case, therefore, is the same ; and therefore Christ's be
haviour under those circumstances, was a fit example for
them to follow. They should look to their Captain, and
observe after what manner he went through his great work,
and the great tribulations which he endured. They should
observe after what manner he entered into the kingdom of
heaven, and obtained the crown of glory, and so they also
should run the race that is set before them. " Wherefore,
seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud
of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin
which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience
the race that is set before us. Looking unto Jesus, the
author and finisher of our faith ; who for the joy that was
set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and
is set down at the right hand of the throne of God." Par
ticularly, (1.) When others are asleep they should be awake, as it
was with Christ. The time of Christ's agony was the
night season, the time wherein persons were wont to be
asleep : it was the time wherein the disciples that were
about Christ were asleep ; but Christ then had something
else to do than to sleep ; he had a great work to do ; he
kept awake, with his heart engaged in this work. So should
it be with the believers of Christ ; when the souls of their
neighbours are asleep in their sins, and under the power of
a lethargic insensibility and sloth, they should watch and
pray, and maintain a lively sense of the infinite importance
of their spiritual concerns. 1 Thess. v. 6. " Therefore let
us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch and be sober."
(2.) They should go through their work with earnest
labour,, as Christ did. The time when others were asleep
was a time when Christ was about his great work, and was
engaged in it with all his might, agonizing in it ; conflict
ing and wrestling, in tears, and in blood. So should
Christians with the utmost earnestness improve their time
with souls engaged in this work, pushing through the op
position they meet with in it, pushing through all difficul
ties and sufferings there are in the way, running with pa
tience the race set before them, conflicting with the
enemies of their souls with all their might, as those that
wrestle not with flesh and blood, but with principalities
and powers, and the rulers of the darkness of this world,
and spiritual wickedness in high places.
(3.) This labour and strife should be, that God may be
glorified, and their own eternal happiness obtained in a way
of doing God's will. Thus it was with Christ : what he so
earnestly strove for was, that he might do the will of God,
that he might keep his command, his difficult command,
without failing in it, and that in this way God's will might
be done, in that glory to his ever great name, and that sal
vation to his elect that he intended by his sufferings. Here
is an example for the saints to follow in that holy strife,
and race, and warfare, which God has appointed them ;
they should strive to do the will of their heavenly Father,
that they may, as the apostle expresses it, Rom. xii. 2.
" Prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect
will of God," and that in this way they may glorify God,
and may come at last to be happy for ever in the enjoy
ment of God.
(4.) In all the great work they have to do, their eye
should be to God for his help to enable them to overcome.
Thus did the man Christ Jesus : he strove in his work even
to such an agony and bloody sweat. But how did he
strive? It was not in his own strength, but his eyes were
to God, he cries unto him for his help and strength to up
hold him, that he might not fail ; he watched and prayed,
as he desired his disciples to do ; he wrestled with his ene
mies and with his great sufferings, but at the same time
wrestled with God to obtain his help, to enable him to get
the victory. Thus the saints should use their strength in
their christian course to the utmost, but not as depending
on their own strength, but crying mightily to God for his
strength to make them conquerors.
(5.) In this way they should hold out to the end as
Christ did. Christ in this way was successful, and obtained

SERMON VI.

877

the victory, and won the prize ; he overcame, and is set
down with the Father in his throne. So Christians should
persevere and hold out in their great work to the end ;
they should continue to run their race till they have come
to the end of it; they should be faithful unto the death as
Christ was ; and then, when they have overcome, they
shall sit down with him in his throne. Rev. iii. 21. " To
him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my
throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with
my Father in his throne."
5. Hence burdened and distressed sinners, if any such
are here present, may have abundant ground of encourage
ment to come to Christ for salvation. Here is great en
couragement to sinners to come to this high priest that
offered up such strong crying and tears with nis blood,
for the success of his sufferings in the salvation of sinners.
For, 1st, Here is great ground of assurance that Christ stands
ready to accept of sinners, and bestow salvation upon
them ; for those strong cries of his lhat he offered up in the
capacity of our high priest, show how earnestly desirous he
was of it. If he was not willing that sinners should be
saved, be they ever so unworthy of it, then why would he
so wrestle with God for it in such a bloody sweat ? Would
any one so earnestly cry to God with such costly cries, in
such great labour and travail of soul, for that, that he did
not desire that God should bestow ? No, surely ! but
this shows how greatly his heart was set on the success of
his redemption ; and therefore since he has by such earnest
prayers, and by such a bloody sweat, obtained salvation of
the Father to bestow on sinners, he will surely be ready to
bestow it upon them, if they come to him for it ; otherwise
he will frustrate his own design ; and he that so earnestly
cried to God that his design might not be frustrated, will
not, after all, frustrate it himself.
2. Here is the strongest ground of assurance that God
stands ready to accept of all those that come to him for
mercy through Christ, for this is what Christ prayed for in
those earnest prayers, whose prayers were always heard, as
Christ says, John xi. 42. " And I knew that thou hearest
me always." And especially may they conclude, that
heard their high priest in those strong cries that he offered
up with his blood, and that especially on the following
account. (1.) They were the most earnest prayers that ever were
made. Jacob was very earnest when he wrestled with
God ; and many others have wrestled with God with many
tears; yea, doubtless, many of the saints have wrestled
wilh God with such inward labour and strife as to produce
powerful effects on the body. But so earnest was Christ,
so strong was the labour and fervency of his heart, that he
cried to God in a sweat of blood ; so that if any earnest
ness and importunity in prayer ever prevailed with God,
we may conclude that that prevailed.
(2.) He who then prayed was the most worthy person
that ever put up a prayer. He had more worthiness than
ever men or angels had in the sight of God, according as
by inheritance he has obtained a more excellent name than
they; for he was the only-begotten Son of God, infinitely
lovely in his sight, the Son in whom he declared once and
again he was well-pleased. He was infinitely near and
dear to God, and had more worthiness in his eyes ten
thousand times than all men and angels put together. And
can we suppose any other than that such a person was
heard when he cried to God with such earnestness ? Did
Jacob, a poor sinful man, when he had wrestled with God,
obtain of God the name of Israel, and that encomium,
that as a prince he had power with God, and prevailed ?
And did Elijah, who was a man of like passions, and of
like corruptions with us, when he prayed, earnestly pre
vail on God to work such great wonders ? And shall not
the only-begotten Son of God, when wrestling with God
in tears and blood, prevail, and have his request granted
him ?
Surely there is no room to suppose any such thing ; and
therefore, there is no room to doubt whether God will
bestow salvation on those that believe in him, at his re
quest.

(3.) Christ offered up these earnest prayers with the
best plea for an answer that ever was offered to God, viz.
his own blood ; which was an equivalent for the thing
that he asked. He not only offered up strong cries, but
he offered them up with a price fully sufficient to purchase
the benefit he asked.
(4.) Christ offered this price and those strong cries both
together ; for at the same time that he was pouring out
these earnest requests for the success of his redemption in
the salvation of sinners, he also shed his blood. His blood
fell down to the ground at the same instant that his cries
went up to heaven. Let burdened and distressed sinners,
that are ready to doubt of the efficacy of Christ's interces
sion for such unworthy creatures as they, and to call in
question God's readiness to accept them for Christ's sake,
consider these things. Go to the garden where the Son of
God was in an agony, and where he cried to God so
earnestly, and where his sweat was, as it were, great drops
of blood, and then see what a conclusion you will draw
up from such a wonderful sight.
6. The godly may take great comfort in this, that Christ
has as their high priest offered up such strong cries to God.
You that have good evidence of your being believers in
Christ, and his true followers and servants, may comfort
yourselves in this, that Christ Jesus is your high priest,
that that blood, which Christ shed in his agony, fell down
to the ground for you, and that those earnest cries were
sent up to God for you, for the success of his labours and
sufferings in all that good you stood in need of in this
world, and in your everlasting happiness in the world to
come. This may be a comfort to you in all losses, and
under all difficulties, that you may encourage your faith,
and strengthen your hope, and cause you greatly to rejoice.
If you were under any remarkable difficulties, it would be
a great comfort to you to have the prayers of some man
that you looked upon to be a man of eminent piety, and
one that had a great interest at the throne of grace, and
especially if you knew that he was very earnest and great
ly engaged in prayer for you. But how much more may
you be comforted in it, that you have an interest in the
prayers and cries of the only-begotten and infinitely wor
thy Son of God, and that he was so earnest in his prayers
for you, as you have heard !
7. Hence we may learn how earnest Christians ought
to be in their prayers and endeavours for the salvation of
others. Christians are the followers of Christ, and they
should follow him in this. We see from what we have
heard, how great the labour and travail of Christ's soul
was for others' salvation, and what earnest and strong cries
to God accompanied his labours. Here he hath set us an
example. Herein he hath set an example for ministers,
who should as co-workers with Christ travail in birth with
them till Christ be found in them. Gal. iv. 19. " My
little children, of whom I travail in .birth again, until
Christ be formed in you." They should be willing to
spend and be spent for them. They should not only la
bour for them, and pray earnestly for them, but should, if
occasion required, be ready to suffer for them, and to
spend not only their strength, but their blood for them.
2 Cor. xii. 15. " And I will very gladly spend and be
spent for you, though the more abundantly I love you, the
less I be loved." Here is an example for parents, showing
how they ought to labour and cry to God for the spiritual
good of their children. You see how Christ laboured and
strove and cried to God for the salvation of his spiritual
children ; and will not you earnestly seek and cry to God
for your natural children ?
Here is an example for neighbours one towards another
how they should seek and cry for the good of one another's
souls, for this is the command of Christ, that they should
love one another as Christ loved them. John xv. 12. Here
is an example for us, showing how we should earnestly
seek and pray for the spiritual and eternal good of our
enemies, for Christ did all this for his enemies, and when
some of those enemies were at that very instant plotting
his death, and busily contriving to satiate their malice and
cruelty, in his most extreme torments, and most ignomi
nious destruction.

878

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

SERMON VII.

Romans ii. 8, 9.
But unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the
truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath,
tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that
doeth evil, ofthe Jew first, and also qf the Gentile.
It is the drift of the apostle in the three first chapters of
this epistle, to show that both Jews and Gentiles are un
der sin, and therefore cannot be justified by works of law,
but only by faith in Christ. In the first chapter he had
shown that the Gentiles were under sin : in this he shows
lhat the Jews also are under sin, and that however severe
they were in their censures upon the Gentiles, yet they
themselves did the same things ; for which the apostle
very much blames them : " Therefore, thou art inexcus
able, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest, for wherein
thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou
that judgest, doest the same things." And he warns them
not to go on in such a way, by forewarning them of the
misery to which they will expose themselves by it, and by
giving them to understand, that instead of their misery
being less than that of the Gentiles, it would be the
greater, for God's distinguishing goodness to them above
the Gentiles. The Jews thought that they should be ex
empted from future wrath, because God had chosen them
to be his peculiar people. But the apostle informs them
that there should be indignation and wrath, tribulation
and anguish, to every soul of man ; not only to the Gen
tiles, but to every soul ; and to the Jews first and chiefly,
when they did evil, because their sins were more aggra
vated. In the text we find,
1. A description of wicked men ; in which may be ob
served those qualifications of wicked men which have the
nature of a cause, and those which have the nature of an
effect. Those qualifications of wicked men here mentioned
that have the nature of a cause, are their being contentious,
and not obeying the truth, but obeying unrighteousness.
By their being contentious, is meant their being conten
tious against the truth, their quarrelling with the gospel,
their finding fault with its declarations and offers. Unbe
lievers find many things in the ways of God at which they
stumble, and by which they are offended. They are
always quarrelling and finding fault with one thing or
another, whereby they are kept from believing the truth
and yielding to it. Christ is to them a stone of stumbling,
and rock of offence. They do not obey the truth, that is,
they do not yield to it, they do not receive it with faith.
That yielding to the truth and embracing it, which there is
in saving faith, is called obeying, in Scripture. Rom. vi.
17. " But God be thanked that ye were the servants of
sin ; but ye have obeyed from the heart that form of doc
trine which was delivered you." Heb. v. 9. " And being
made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation
unto all them that obey him." Rom. i. 5. " By whom
we have received grace and apostleship, for obedience to
the faith among all nations for his name." But they obey
unrighteousness instead of yielding to the gospel, they are
under the power and dominion of sin, and are slaves to
their lusts and corruptions.
It is in those qualifications of wicked men that their
wickedness radically consists ; their unbelief and oppo
sition to the truth, and their slavish subjection to lust, are
the foundation of all wickedness.
Those qualifications of wicked men, which have the na
ture of an effect, are their doing evil. This is the least of
their opposition against the gospel, and of their slavish
subjection to their lusts ; that they do evil. Those wicked
principles are the foundation, and their wicked practice is
the superstructure; those were the root, and this is the
fruit.

2. The punishment of wicked men, in which may be
also noticed the cause and the effect.
Those things mentioned in their punishment that have
the nature of a cause, are indignation and wrath ; i. e. the
indignation and wrath of God. It is the anger of God
that will render wicked men miserable ; they will be the
subjects of divine wrath, and hence will arise their whole1
punishment. Those things in their punishment that have the nature
of an effect, are tribulation and anguish. Indignation and
wrath in God, will work extreme sorrow, trouble, and an
guish of heart, in them.
Doctrine. Indignation, wrath, misery, and anguish of
soul, are the portion that God has allotted to wicked men.
Every one of mankind must have the portion that be
longs to him. God allots to each one his portion; and
the portion of the wicked is nothing but wrath, and dis
tress, and anguish of soul. Though they may enjoy a few
empty and vain pleasures and delights, for a few days
while they stay in this world, yet that which is allotted to
them by the Possessor and Governor of all things to be
their portion, is only indignation and wrath, tribulation
and anguish. This is not the portion that wicked men
choose ; the portion that they choose is worldly happiness,
yet it is the portion that God carves out for them ; it is
the portion that they in effect choose for themselves. For
they choose those things that naturally and necessarily
lead to it, and those lhat they are plainly told, times with
out number, will issue in it. Prov. viii. 36. " But he
that sinneth against me, wrongeth his own soul ; all they
that hate me love death." But whether they choose it or
not, this will and must be the portion to all eternity of all
who live and die wicked men. Indignation and wrath
shall pursue them as long as they live in this world, shall
drive them out of the world, and shall follow them into
another world ; and there wrath and misery shall abide
upon them throughout eternity.
The method that I shall take in treating this subject,
is to describe the wrath and misery of which wicked men
shall be the subjects, both here and hereafter, in the suc
cessive parts and periods of it, according to the order of
time. I. I shall describe the wrath that often pursues wicked
men in this life. Indignation and wrath often begin with
them here.
1. God oftentimes in wrath leaves them to themselves.
They are left in their sins, and left to undo themselves,
and work out their own ruin ; he lets them alone in sin.
Hos. iv. 17. " Ephraim is joined to his idols ; let him
alone." He often leaves them to go great lengths in sin,
and does not afford them that restraining grace that he
does to others. He leaves them to their own blindness,
so that they always remain ignorant of God and Christ,
and of the things that belong to their peace. They are
sometimes left to hardness of heart, to be stupid and
senseless, so that nothing will ever thoroughly awaken
them. They are left to their own hearts' lusts, to continue
in some wicked practices all their days. Some are left to
their covetousness, some to drunkenness, some to unclean
ness, some to a pioud, contentious, and envious spirit,
and some to a spirit of finding fault and quarrelling with
God. God leaves them to their folly, to act exceedingly
foolishly, to delay and put off the concerns of their souls
from time to time, never to think the present time the
best, but always to keep it at a distance, and foolishly to
continue flattering themselves with hopes of long life, and
to put far away the evil day, and to bless themselves in
their hearts, and say, " I shall have peace, though I add
drunkenness to thirst." Some are so left that they are
miserably hardened and senseless, when others all around
them are awakened, and greatly concerned, and inquire
what they shall do to be saved.
Sometimes God leaves men to a fatal backsliding for a

SERMON VII.

879

misimprovement of the strivings of his Spirit. They are
let alone, to backslide perpetually. Dreadful is the life
and condition of those who are thus left of God. We
have instances of the misery of such in God's holy word,
particularly of Saul and Judas. Such are, sometimes,
very much left to the power of Satan to tempt them, to
hurry them on in wicked courses, and exceedingly to ag
gravate their own guilt and misery.
2. Indignation and wrath are sometimes exercised to
wards them in this world, by their being cursed in all that
concerns them. They have this curse of God following
them in every thing. They are cursed in all their enjoy
ments. If they are in prosperity, it is cursed to them ; if
they possess riches, if they have honour, if they enjoy
pleasure, there is the curse of God that attends it. Psalm
xcii. 7. " When the wicked spring as the grass, and when
all the workers of iniquity do flourish; it is that they may
be destroyed for ever."
There is a curse of God that attends their ordinary food :
every morsel of bread which they eat, and every drop of
water which they drink. Psalm ixix. 22. " Let their ta
ble become a snare before them ; and that which should
have been for their welfare, let it become a trap." They
are cursed in all their employments, in whatsoever they put
their hands to ; when they go into the field to labour, or
are at work at their respective trades. Deut. xxviii. 16.
" Cursed shalt thou be in the city, and cursed shalt thou
be in the field." The curse of God remains in the houses
where they dwell, and brimstone is scattered in their habi
tations. Job xviii. 15. The curse of God attends them
in the afflictions which they meet with, whereas the afflic
tions that good men meet with, are fatherly corrections,
and are sent in mercy. The afflictions which wicked men
meet with are in wrath, and come from God as an enemy,
and are the foretaste of their everlasting punishment. The
curse of God attends them also in their spiritual enjoy
ments and opportunities, and it would have been better for
them not to have been born in a land of light. Their hav
ing the Bible and the sabbath, is only to aggravate their
guilt and misery. The word of God when preached to
Ihem isa savour of death unto death. Better would it be
for them, if Christ had never come into the world, if there
had never been any offer of a Saviour. Life itself is a
curse to them; they live only to fill up the measure of
their sins. What they seek in all the enjoyments, and em
ployments, and concerns of life, is their own happiness ;
but they never obtain it ; they never obtain any true com
fort, all the comforts which they have are worthless and
unsatisfying. If they lived a hundred years with never so
much of the world in their possession, their life is all filled
up with vanity. All that they have is vanity of vanities,
they find no true rest for their souls, they do but feed on
the east wind, they have no real contentment. Whatever
outward pleasures they may have, their souls are starving.
They have no true peace of conscience, they have nothing
of the favour of God. Whatever they do, they live in vain,
and to no purpose ; they are useless in the creation of God,
they do not answer the end of their being. They live
without God, and have not the presence of God, nor any
communion with him. But on the contrary, all that they
have and all that they do, does but contribute to their own
misery, and render their future and everlasting state the
more dreadful. The best of wicked men live but miser
able and wretched lives, with all their prosperity ; their
lives are most undesirable, and whatever they have, the
wrath of God abides upon them.
3. After a time they must die. Eccles. ix. 3. " This is
an evil among all things that are done under the sun, that
there is one event unto all : yea, also the heart of the sons
of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart while
they live, and after that they go to the dead."
Death is a far different thing when it befalls wicked men,
from what it is when it befalls good men ; to the wicked it
is in execution of the curse of the law, and of the wrath of
God. When a wicked man dies, God cuts him off in
wrath, he is taken away as by a tempest of wrath, he is
•driven away in his wickedness. Prov. xiv. 32. ' The
wicked is driven away in his wickedness : but the righte
ous hath hope in his death." Job xviii. 18. "He shall be
driven from light into darkness, and chased out ot .the

world." Job xxvii. 21. "The east wind carrieth him
away, and he departeth,and as a storm, hurletii him out of
his place." Though wicked men, while they live, may live
in worldly prosperity, vet they cannot live here always,
but they must die. The place lhat knoweth him shall
know him no more; and the eye that hath seen him shall
see him no more in the land of the living.
Their bounds are unchangeably set, and when they are
come to those bounds they must go, and must leave all
their worldly good things. If they have lived in outward
glory their glory shall not descend alter them ; they get
nothing while they live that they can carry away. Eccles.
v. 15. " As he came forth of his mother's womb, naked
shall he return, to go as he came, and shall take nothing
of his labour, which he niay carry away in his hand." He
must leave all his substance unto others. It they are at
ease and quietness, death will put an end to their quiet
ness, will spoil all their carnal mirth, and will strip them
of all their glory. As they came naked into the world, so
naked must they return, and go as they came. If they
have laid up much goods for many years, if they have laid
in stores, as they hope, for great comfort and pleasure,
death will cut them off from all. Luke xii. 16, &c. "And
he spake a parable unto them, saying, The ground of a
certain rich man brought forth plentifully : and he thought
within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have
no room where to bestow my fruits ? and he said, This will
I do : I will pull down my barns, and build greater ; and
there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I
will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up
for many years: take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.
But God said unto him, Thou fool ! this night thy soul
shall be required of thee ; then whose shall those things be
which thou hast provided." If they have many designs
and projects in their breasts for promoting their outward
prosperity and worldly advantage, when death comes, it
cuts all off at one blow. Psalm cxlvi. 4. " His breath
goeth forth, he returneth to his earth ; in that very day his
thoughts perish." And so whatever diligence they have
had in seeking their salvation, death will disappoint all
such diligence, it will not wait for them to accomplish
their designs and fulfil their schemes. If they have
pleased, and pampered, and adorned their bodies, death will
spoil all their pleasure and their glory ; it will change their
countenances to a pale and ghastly aspect. Instead of
their gay apparel and beautiful ornaments, they shall have
only a winding-sheet; their house must be the dark and
silent grave ; and that body which they deified, shall turn
to loathsome rottenness, shall be eaten of worms, and turn
to dust. Some wicked men die in youth, wrath pursues
them, and soon overtakes them ; they are not suffered to
live out- half their days. Job xxxvi. 14. " They die in
youth, and their life is among the unclean." Psalm lv.
23. " But thou, O God, shall bring them down into the
pit of destruction : bloody and deceitful men shall not live
out half their days." They are sometimes overtaken in the
very midst of their sin and vanity ; and death puts a sud
den" end to all their youthful pleasures. They are often
stopped in the midst of a career in sin, and then if their
hearts cleave ever so fast to those things, they must be rent
from them ; ihey have no other good but outward good ;
but then they must eternally forsake it, they must close
their eyes for ever on all that has been dear and pleasant to
them here. . .
4. Wicked men are oftentimes the subjects of much tri
bulation and anguish of heart on their death-beds. Some
times the pains of body are very extreme and dreadful ;
and what they endure in those agonies and struggles for
life, after they are past speaking, and when body and soul
are rending asunder, none can know. Hezekiah had an
awful sense of it ; he compares it to a lion's breaking all
his bones. Isa. xxxviii. 12, 13. " Mine age is departed,
and is removed from me as a shepherd's tent: I have cut
off as a weaver my life; he will cut me off with pining
sickness : from day even to night wilt thou make an end
of me. I reckoned till morning, that, as a lion, so will he
break all my bones : from day even to night wilt thou
make an end of me." But this is but little to what is
sometimes undergone bv wicked men in their souls when
they are on their death-beds. Death appears sometimes

880

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

with an exceedingly terrible aspect to them; when it comes
and stares them in the face, they cannot bear to behold it.
It is always so, if wicked men have notice of the approach
of death, and have reason and conscience in exercise, and
are not either stupid or distracted. When this king of
terrors comes to show himself to them, and they are
called forth to meet him, O how do they dread the con
flict ! But meet him they must : " There is no man that
hath power over the spirit to retain the spirit; neither
hath he power in the day of death : and there is no dis
charge in that war ; neither shall wickedness deliver those
that are given to it." Death comes to them with all his
dreadful armour, and his sting not taken away ; and it is
enough to fill their souls with torment that cannot be ex
pressed. It is an awful thing for a person to be lying on
a sick bed, to be given over by physicians, to have friends
stand weeping round the bed as expecting to part with
him ; and in such circumstances as those, to have no hope,
to be without an interest in Christ, and to have the guilt of
his sins lying on his soul, to be going out of the world
without his peace being made with God, to stand before
his holy judgment-seat in all his sins, without any thing
to plead, or answer. To see the only opportunity to pre
pare for eternity coming immediately to an end, after
which there shall be no more time of probation, but his
case will be unalterably fixed, and there never will be an
other offer of a Saviour; for the soul to come just to the
very edge of the boundless gulf of eternity, and insensibly
to launch forth into it, without any God or Saviour to take
care of it ; to be brought to the edge of the precipice, and
to see himself falling down into the lake of fire and brim
stone, and to feel that he has no power to stop himself :
who can tell the shrinkings and misgivings of heart in
such a case? How does he endeavour to hang back, but
yet he must go on ; it is in vain to wish for further oppor
tunity ! O how happy does he think those that stand about
him, who may yet live, may have their lives continued
longer, when he must go immediately into an endless
eternity ! How does he wish it might be with him as with
those who have a longer time to prepare for their trial !
but it must not be so. Death, sent on purpose to summon
him, will give him no release nor respite : he must go
before the holy judgment-seat of God as he is, to have his
everlasting state determined according to his works. To
such persons, how differently do things appear from what
they did in the time of health, and when they looked at
death as at a distance ! How differentiy doessin look to
them now ; those sins which they used to make light of!
How dreadful is it now to look back and consider how
they have spent their time, how foolish they have been,
how they have gratified and indulged their lusts, and lived
in ways of wickedness ; how careless they have been, and
how they have neglected their opportunities and advan
tages, how they have refused to hearken to counsel, and
have not repented in spite of all the warnings that were
given ! Prov. v. 11, 12, 13. "And thou mourn at the last,
when thy flesh and thy body are consumed, and say, How
have I hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof;
and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined
mine ear to them that instructed me ! "
How differently does the world appear to them now !
They used to set much by it, and have their hearts taken
up with it ; but what does it avail them now ? how insig
nificant are all their riches ! Prov. xi. 4. "Riches profit
not in the day of wrath : but righteousness delivereth
from death." What different thoughts have they now of
God, and of his wrath ! They used to make light of the
wrath of God, but how terrible does it now appear ! How
does their heart shrink at the thoughts of appearing before
such a God ! How different are their thoughts of time !
Now time appears precious ; and O what would they not
give for a little more time ! Some have in such circum
stances been brought to cry out, O, a thousand worlds for
an hour, for a moment ! And how differently does eternity
now appear ! now it is awful indeed. Some have been
brought on a death-bed to cry out, O that word Eternity !
Eternity! Eternity! What a dismal gulf does it ap
pear to them, when they come to the very brink ! They
often at such times cry for mercy, and cry in vain. God
called, and they would not hear. "They set at nought

his counsels, and would none of his reproofs. Now also
he laughs at their calamity, and mocks when their fear
cometh." They beseech others to pray for them, they send
for ministers, but all often fails them. They draw nearer
and nearer to death, and eternity comes more and more
immediately in view. And who can express their horror,
when they feel themselves clasped in the cold arms of
death, when their breath fails more and more, and their
eyes begin to be fixed and grow dim ! That which is then
felt by them, cannot be told nor conceived. Some wicked
men have much of the horror and despair of hell in their,
last sickness. Eccles. v. 17. "All his days also he eateth
in darkness, and he hath much sorrow and wrath with his
sickness." II. I shall describe the wrath that attends wicked men
hereafter. 1 . The soul, when it is separated from the body, shall
be cast down into hell. There is without doubt a parti
cular judgment by which every man is to be tried at death,
beside the general judgment : for the soul, as soon as it
departs from the body, appears before God to be judged.
Eccl. xii. "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it
was ; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it : "
that is, to be judged and disposed of by him. Heb. ix. 27.
"It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the
judgment." But this particular judgment is probably no
such solemn transaction as that which will be at the day
of judgment ; the soul must appear before God, but not
in the manner that men shall appear at the end of the
world. The souls of wicked men shall not go to heaven
to appear before God, neither shall Christ descend from
heaven for the soul to appear before him ; neither is it to
be supposed, that the soul shall be carried to any place
where there is some special symbol of the divine presence,
in order to be judged. But as God is every where pre
sent, so the soul shall be made immediately sensible of
his presence. Souls in a separate state shall be sensible
of the presence of God and of his operations in another
manner than we now are. All separate spirits may be
said to be before God : the saints are in his glorious pre
sence, and the wicked in hell are in his dreadful presence;
they are said to be tormented in the presence of the Lamb.
Rev. xiv. 10. "The same shall drink of the wine of the
wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into
the cup of his indignation ; and he shall be tormented
with fire and brimstone in the presence ofthe holy angels,
and in the presence of the Lamb." So the soul of a
wicked man, at its departure from the body, will be made
immediately sensible that it is before an infinitely holy
and dreadful God and his own final Judge ; and will then
see how terrible a God he is, he will see how holy a God
he is, how infinitely he hates sin ; he will be sensible of
the greatness of God's anger against sin, and how dreadful
is his displeasure. Then will he be sensible of thedreadT
fill majesty and power of God, and how fearful a thing it
is to fall into his hands. Then the soul shall come naked
with all its guilt, and in all its filthiness, a vile, loathsome,
abominable creature, an enemy to God, a rebel against
him, with the guilt of all its rebellion and disregard of
God's commands, and contempt of his authority, and
slight of the glorious gospel, before God as its Judge.
This will fill the soul with horror and amazement. It is
not to be supposed that this judgment will be attended
with any voice or any such outward transactions as the
judgment at the end of the world ; but God shall manifest
himself in his strict justice inwardly, to the immediate
view of the soul, and to the sense and apprehension of the
conscience. This particular judgment probably will not
hinder, but that the soul shall be cast into hell imme
diately when it goes from the body ; as soon as ever the
soul departs from the body, the soul shall know what its
state and condition are to be to all eternity. As long as
there is life, there is hope. The man, while he lived,
though his case was exceedingly dreadful, yet had some
hope ; when he lay dying, there was a possibility of sal
vation. But when once the union between soul and body
is broken, then that moment the case becomes desperate,
and there remains no hope, no possibility. On their
death-beds, perhaps, they had some hope that God would
pity them and hear their cries, or that he would hear the

SERMON VII.

31

prayers of their pious friends for them ; they were ready
to lay hold on something which they had at some time
met with, some religious affection or some change in their
external conduct, and to flatter themselves that they were
then converted ; they were able to indulge some degree of
hope from the moral lives that they had lived, that God
would have respect to them and save them ; but as soon
as ever the soul parts from the body, from that moment
the case will be absolutely determined, there will then be
an end for ever to all hope, to every thing that men hang
upon in this life ; the soul then shall know certainly that
it is to be miserable to all eternity, without any remedy.
It shall see that God is its enemy ; it shall see" its Judge
clothed in his wrath and vengeance. Then its misery will
begin, it will that moment be swallowed up in despair ;
the great gulf will be fixed between it and happiness, the
door of mercy will be for ever shut up, the irrevocable
sentence will be passed. Then shall the wicked know
what is before them. Before, the soul was in distress for
fear how it would be ; but now, all its fears shall come
upon it ; it shall come upon it as a mighty flood, and
there will be no escaping. The soul was full of amaze
ment before through fear; but now, who can conceive
the amazement that fills it that moment when all hope is
cut off, and it knows that there never will be any differ
ence !
When a good man dies, his soul is conducted by holy
angels to heaven. Luke xvi. 22. " And it came to pass
that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into
Abraham's bosom : the rich man also died and was bu
ried." So we may well suppose that when a wicked man
dies, his soul is seized by wicked angels ; that they are
round his bed ready to seize the miserable soul as soon as
it is parted from the body. And with what fierceness and
fury do those cruel spirits fly upon their prey ; and the soul
shall be left in their hands. There shall be no good an
gels to guard and defend it. God will take no merciful
care of it, there is nothing to help it against those cruel
spirits that shall lay hold of it to carry it to hell, there to
torment it for ever. God will leave it wholly in their
hands, and will give it up to their possession, when it
comes to die ; and it shall be earned down into hell, to
the abode of devils and damned spirits. If the fear of
hell on a death-bed sometimes fills the wicked with amaze
ment, how will they be overwhelmed when they feel its
torments, when they shall find them not only as great but
far greater than their fears ! They shall find them far
beyond what they could conceive of before they felt
them ; for none know the power of God's anger, but they
that experience it. Psal. xc. 11. " Who knoweth the
power of thine anger ? even according to thy fear, so is
thy wrath."
Departed spirits of wicked men are doubtless carried
to some particular place in the universe, which God has
prepared to be the receptacle of his wicked, rebellious,
and miserable subjects ; a place where God's avenging
justice shall be glorified ; a place built to be the prison,
where devils and wicked men are reserved till the day of
judgment. 2. Here the souls of wicked men shall suffer extreme
and amazing misery in a separate state, until the resur
rection. This misery is not indeed their full punishment ;
nor is the happiness of the saints before the day of judg
ment their full happiness. It is with the souls of wicked
men as it is with devils. Though the devils suffer extreme
torment now, yet they do not suffer their complete punish
ment ; and therefore it is said, that they are cast down to
hell, and bound in chains. 2 Pet. ii. 4. " God spared -not
the angels that sinned, but cast them down to hell, and
delivered them into chains of darkness, to be reserved
unto judgment." Jude 6. " And the angels which kept
not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath
reserved in everlasting chains under darkness, unto the
judgment of the great dav-" They are reserved in the
state they are in ; and for 'what are they reserved, but for
a greater degree of punishment ? and therefore they are
said to tremble for fear. James ii. 19. "Thou believest
that there is one God ; thou doest well : the devils also
believe and tremble." Hence when Christ was on earth,
the devils were greatly afraid that Christ was come to tor-
vol. n. 3 L

ment them. Matt. viii. 29. "And, behold, they cried
out, saying, What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son
of God ? Art thou come hither to torment us before the
time?" Mark v. 7. " And cried with a loud voice, and
said, What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the
most high God ? I adjure thee by God, that thou tor
ment me not."
But yet they are there in extreme and inconceivable mi
sery ; they are there deprived of all good, they have no
rest nor comfort, and they are subject to the wrath of God ;
God there executes wrath on them without mercy, and
they are swallowed up in wrath. Luke xvi. 24. "And
he cried, and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me ;
and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in
water and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this
flame." Here we are told that, when the rich man died,
he lift up his eyes being in torment, and he tells Abraham
that he is tormented in a flame ; and it seems that the
flame was not only about him, but in him ; he therefore
asks for a drop of water to cool his tongue. This doubt
less is to represent to us that they are full of the wrath of
God as it were with fire, and they shall there be tormented
in the midst of devils and damned spirits ; and they shall
have inexpressible torment from their own consciences.
God's wrath is the fire that never shall be quenched, and
conscience is the worm that never dies. How much do
men suffer from horror of conscience sometimes in this
world, but how much more in hell ! What bitter and
tormenting reflections will they have concerning the folly
they have been guilty of in their lives, in so neglecting
their souls, when they had such an opportunity for repent
ance ; that they went on so foolishly to treasure up wrath
against the day of wrath, to add to the record of their sins
from day to day, to make their misery yet greater and
greater ; how they have kindled the fires of hell for them
selves, and spent their lives in gathering the fuel ! They
will not be able to help revolving such thoughts in their
minds ; and how tormenting will they be ! And those who
go to hell, never can escape thence ; there they remain im
prisoned till the day of judgment, and their torments remain
continually. Those wicked men who died many years
ago, their souls went to hell, and there they are still ; those
who went to hell in former ages of the world, have been
in hell ever since, all the while suffering torment. They
have nothing else to spend their time in there, but to suf
fer torment, they are kept in being for no other purpose ;
and though they have many companions in hell, yet they
are no comfort to them, for there is no friend, no love, no
pity, no quietness, no prospect, no hope.
3. The separate souls of the wicked, besides the present
misery that they suffer, shall be in amazing fear of their
more full punishment at the day of judgment. Though
their punishment in their separate state be exceedingly
dreadful, and far more than they can bear, though it be so
great as to sink and crush them, yet this is not all ; they
are reserved for a much greater and more dreadful punish
ment at the day of judgment ; their torment will then be
vastly augmented, and continue in that augmentation to
all eternity. Their punishment will be so much greater
then, that their misery in this separate state is but as an im
prisonment before an execution ; they, as well as the de
vils, are bound in chains of darkness to tbe judgment of
the great day. Separate spirits are called " spirits in pri
son." 1 Pet. iii. 19. "By which also he went and preached
unto the spirits in prison." And if the imprisonment be
so dreadful, how dreadful indeed will he the execution !
When we are under any great pain of body at any time,
how do we dread the least addition to it ! its continuance
is greatly dreaded, much more its increase. How much
more will those separate spirits that suffer the torments of
hell, dread that augmentation and completing of their tor
ment which there will be at the day of judgment, when
what they feel already, is vastly more than they can sup
port themselves ; when they shall be as it were begging
for one drop of water to cool their tongues, when they
would give ten thousand worlds for the least abatement of
their misery ! How sinking will it be to think that instead
of that the day is coming when God shall come forth out of
heaven to sentence them to a far more dreadful degree of
misery, and to continue them under it for eve* ! What

882

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

experience they have of the dreadfulness of God's wrath
convinces them fully how terrible a thing his wrath is ;
they wilt therefore be exceedingly afraid of that full wrath
which he will execute at the day of judgment; they will
have no hope of escaping it, they wili know assuredly that
it will come.
The fear of this makes the devils, those mighty, proud,
and stubborn spirits, to tremble : they believe' what is
threatened, and therefore tremble. If this fear overcomes
them, how much more will it overwhelm the souls of
wicked men 1 All hell trembles at the thoughts of the
day of judgment.
4. When the day of judgment comes they shall rise to
the resurrection of damnation. When that day comes, all
mankind that have died from off the face of the earth shall
arise ; not only the righteous, but also the wicked. Dan.
xii. 2. " And many of them that sleep in the dust of the
earth, shall awake ; some to everlasting life, and some to
shame and everlasting contempt." Rev. xx. 13. "And
the sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and
hell delivered up the dead which were in them : and they
were judged, every man according to his works." The
damned in hell know not the time when the day of judg
ment will be, but when the time comes it will be made
known, and it will be the most dreadful news that ever was
told in that world of misery. It is always a doleful time
in hell ; the world of darkness is always full of shrieks
and doleful cries ; but when the news is heard, that the
day appointed for the judgment is come, hell will be filled
with louder shrieks and more dreadful cries than ever
before. When Christ comes in the clouds of heaven to
judgment, the news of it will fill both earth and hell
with mourning and bitter crying. We read that all the
kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him, and so
shall all the inhabitants of hell ; and then must the souls of
the wicked come up to be united to their bodies, and
stand before the Judge. They shall not come willingly,
but shall be dragged forth as a malefactor is dragged out
of his dungeon to execution. They were unwilling when
they died to leave the earth to go to hell ; but now they
will be much more unwilling to come out of hell to go to
the last judgment. It will be no deliverance to them, it
will only be a coming forth to their execution. They will
hang back, but must come ; the devils and damned spirits
must come up together. The last trumpet will then be
heard, this will be the most terrible sound to wicked men
and devils that ever was heard ; and not only the wicked,
that shall then be found dwelling on the earth, shall hear
it, but also those that are in their graves. John v. 28, 29.
" Marvel not at this ; for the hour is coming, in the which
all that are in the graves shall hear hi3 voice and shall
come forth ; they that have done good unto the resurrec
tion of life, and they that have done evil unto the resurrec
tion of damnation ;' and then must the souls of the wicked
enter their bodies again, which will be prepared only to
be organs of torment and misery. It will be a dreadful
sight to them when they come to their bodies again, those
bodies which were formerly used by them as the organs
and instruments of sin and wickedness, and whose appe
tites and lusts they indulged and gratified. The parting of
soul and body was dreadful to them when they died, but
their meeting again at the resurrection will be more dread
ful. They shall receive their bodies loathsome and hideous,
agreeably to that shame and everlasting contempt to which
they shall arise. A. the bodies of the saints shall arise
more glorious than when on earth, and shall be like unto
Christ's glorious body, so we may well suppose that the
bodies of the wicked will arise proportionably more de
formed and hideous. Oftentimes in this world a polluted
soul is hid in a fine and comely body, but it will not be
so then when things shall appear as 'they are ; the form
and aspect of the body shall be answerable to the hellish
deformity of the soul. Thus shall they rise ojit of their
graves, and shall lift up their eyes, and see the Son of God
in the clouds of heaven, in the glory of his Father, with all
his holy angels with him. Then shall they see their
Judge in his awful majesty, which will be the most
amazing sight to them that ever they saw, and will still
add new horrors. That awful and terrible majesty in
which he will appear, and the manifestation of his infinite

holiness, will pierce their souls. They shall come forth
out of their graves all trembling and astonished ; fearful
ness shall surprise them.
5. Then must they appear before their Judge to give up
their account. They will find no mountains or rocks to
fall upon them, that can cover them, and hide them from
the wrath of the Lamb. Many of them will see others at
that time, who were formerly their acquaintance, who shall
appear with glorious bodies, and with joyful countenances
and songs of praise, and mounting up as with wings to
meet the Lord in the air, while they are left behind.
Many shall see their former neighbours and acquaintance,
their companions, their brothers, and their wives taken
and they left. They shall be summoned to go and appear
before the judgment-seat; and go they must, however
unwilling ; they must stand at Christ's left hand, in the
midst of devils and wicked men. This shall again add
still further amazement, and will cause their horror still to
be in a further degree than ever. With what horror will
that company come together ! and then shall they be
called to their account ; then shall be brought to light the
hidden things of darkness ; then shall all the wickedness
of their hearts be made known ; then shall be declared the
actual wickedness they have been guilty of; then shall
appear their secret sins that they have kept hid from the
eye of the world ; then shall be manifested in their true
light those sins that they used to plead for, and to excuse
and justify. And then shall all their sins be set forth in
all their dreadful aggravations, all their filthiness will be
brought to light to their everlasting shame and contempt.
Then it shall appear how heinous many of those things
were, that they in their lifetime made light of; then will
it appear how dreadful their guilt is in thus ill-treating so
glorious and blessed a Saviour. And all the world snail
see it, and many shall rise up in judgment against them
and condemn them ; their companions whom they tempted
to wickedness, others whom they have hardened in sin by
their example, shall rise up against many of them; and
the heathen that have had no advantages in comparison
of them, and many of whom have yet lived better lives
than they, shall rise up against them ; and they shall be
called to a special account ; the Judge will reckon with
them, they shall be speechless, they shall be struck dumb,
their own consciences bearing testimony against them,
and shall cry aloud against them, for they shall then see
how great and terrible a God he is, against whom they
have sinned. Then shall they stand at the left hand,
while they see others whom they knew on earth sitting at
the right hand of Christ in glory, shining forth as the sun,
accepted of Christ, and sitting with him to judge and con
demn them.
6 . Then thesentence of condemnation shall be pronounced
by the Judge upon them. Matt. xxv. 41. " Depart from
me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil
and his angels." This sentence will be pronounced with
awful majesty ; and there shall be great indignation, and
dreadful wrath shall then appear in the Judge, and in his
voice, with which he shall pronounce the sentence ; and
what a horror and amazement will these words strike into
the hearts of the wicked, on whom they shall be pro
nounced ! Every word and syllable shall be like the most
amazing thunder to them, and shall pierce their souls like
the fiercest lightning. The Judge will bid them depart
from him ; he will drive them from his presence, as ex
ceedingly abominable to him, and he shall give them the
epithet accursed ; they shall be an accursed company, and
he will not only bid them depart from his presence, but
into everlasting fire, to dwell there as their only fit habita
tion. Arid what shows the dreadfulness of the fire, is,
that it is prepared for the devil and his angels : they shall
lie for ever in the same fire in which the devils, those
grand enemies of God, shall be tormented. When this
sentence shall be pronounced, there shall be in the vast
company at the left hand, tremblings, and mourning, and
crying, and gnashing of teeth, in a new manner, beyond all
that ever was before. If the devils, those proud and
lofty spirits, tremble many ages beforehand at the bare
thoughts of this sentence, how will they tremble when it
comes totbe pronounced ! And how, alas ! will wicked
men tremble ! Their anguish will be aggravated by hear-

SERMON VII.

883

ing that blessed sentence pronounced on those who shall
be at the right hand : " Come, ye blessed of my Father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation
ofthe world."
7. Then the sentence shall be executed. When the
Judge bids them depart, they must go ; however loth, yet
they must go. Immediately upon the finishing of the
judgment and the pronouncing of the sentence, will come
the end of the world. The frame of this world shall be
dissolved. The pronouncing of that sentence will proba
bly be followed with amazing thunders, that shall rend the
heavens) and shake the earth out of its place. 2 Peter iii.
10. " But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the
night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a
great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat,
the earth also, and the works that are therein, shall be
burnt up." Then shall the sea and the waves roar, and
the rocks shall be thrown down, and the mountains shall
rend asunder, and there shall be one universal wreck of
this great world. Then shall the heavens be dissolved,
and then the earth shall be set on fire. As God in wrath
once destroyed the world by a flood of water, so now shall
he cause it to be all drowned in a deluge of fire ; and the
¦heavens being on fire, shall be dissolved, and the elements
shall melt with fervent heat ; 2 Pet. iii. 10. ; and that
great company of devils and wicked men must then enter
into those everlasting burnings to which they are sen
tenced. 8. In this condition they shall remain throughout the
never-ending ages of eternity. Their punishment shall be
then complete, and it shall remain in this completion for
ever. Now shall all that come upon them which they so
long trembled for fear of, while their souls were in a sepa
rate state. They will dwell in a fire that never shall be
quenched, and here they must wear out eternity. Here
Ihey must wear out one thousand years after another, and
that without end. There is no reckoning up the millions
of years or millions of ages ; all arithmetic here fails, no
rules of multiplication can reach the amount, for there is
no end. They shall have nothing to do to pass away their
eternity, but to conflict with those torments ; this will be
their work for ever and ever ; God shall have no other use
or employment for them ; this is the way that they must
answer the end of their being. And they never shall have
any rest, nor any atonement, but their torments will hold
up to their height, and shall never grow any easier by their
being accustomed to them; Time will seem long to
them, every moment shall seem long to them, but they
shall never have done with the ages of their torment.

APPLICATION.
1. Hence what need have we to take care that our found
ation for eternity be sure ! They who build on a false
foundation, are not secure from this misery. They who
build up a refuge of lies, will find that their refuge must
fail them ; their wall that they have daubed with un-
tempered mortar will fall. The more dreadful the misery
is, the more heed have we to see that we are safe from it ;
it will be dreadful indeed to be disappointed in such a
case. To please ourselves with dreams and vain imagina
tions of our being the children of God, and of going to
heaven, and at last to awake in hell, to see our refuge swept
away, and our hope eternally gone, and to find ourselves
swallowed up in flames, and to see an endless duration of
it before us ; how dreadful will this be !
There will be many that will be thus disappointed.
Many shall come to the door and shall find it shut, who
expected to find it open ; and shall knock, but Christ will
tell them that he knows them not, and he will bid them
depart, and it will be in vain for them to tell Christ what
affections they have had, and how religious they were, and
how well they were accounted of on earth. They shall
have no other answer but, " Depart from me, I know you
not, ye that work iniquity." Let us all consider this, and
give 'all diligence, to see that we build sure, if by any
means we may at last be found in Christ. Let us see to
it that we are indeed well secured from this dreadful
misery. What will it avail us to please ourselves with a
3 L 2

notion of being converted, and being beloved of God, and
what will it avail us to have the good opinion of our
neighbours for a few days, if we must at last be cast into
hell, and appear at the day of judgment at the left hand,
and have our eternal portion with unbelievers ? A false
hope cannot profit, us, it is a thousand times worse than
none. And who are more miserable than those who think
that God has pardoned their sins, and who expect to have
a portion with the righteous hereafter, but are all the while
going headlong down into this dreadful misery ? What
case can be more awful than the case of those who are thus
led blindfold to the slaughter; promising themselves a
happiness that is never like to come, but on tbe contrary
are sinking into endless tribulation and anguish !
Let every one therefore, who entertains hope of his own
state, see to it, that he be well built ; and let him not rest
in past attainment, but reach forth towards those things
that are before with all his might.
II. Hence we derive an argument for the awakening of
ungodly men. This indignation and wrath, tribulation
and anguish, is the portion allotted to you if you continue
in your present condition. Thou art the man spoken of;
it is to thee that all this misery is assigned by the threaten
ing of God's holy word ; it is on thee that this wrath of
God abides ; thou art now in a state of condemnation to
this misery. John iii. 18. " He that believeth not is con
demned already ; because he hath not believed in the
name of the only-begotten Son of God." It is not already
executed upon you, but you are already condemned to it ;
you are not merely exposed to condemnation, but you are
under the actual sentence of condemnation. This is the
portion that is already allotted to you by the law, and you
are under the law and not under grace. This misery is the
misery into which you are every day in danger of dropping,
you are not safe from it one hour. How soon it may come
upon you, you know not ; you hang over it by a thread, that
is continually growing more and more feeble. This dread
ful misery in ail its successive parts belongs to you, and is
your due. Your friends and your neighbours, and all
around you, if they knew what your condition was, might
well lift up a loud and bitter cry over you, whenever they
behold you, and say, Here is an unhappy being condemned
to be given up eternally into the hands of devils to be
tormented by them ; here is a miserable man who is in
danger every day of being swallowed up in the bottomless
gulf of woe and misery. Here is a wretched undone crea
ture condemned to lie down for ever in unquenchable fire,
and to dwell in everlasting burnings ; and he has no
interest in a Saviour, he has nothing to defend him, he
has nothing wherewith to appease the wrath of an offended
God. Here consider two things.
1. You have no reason to question whether those future
miseries and torments which are threatened in God's word
are realities. Do not flatter yourself with thinking that it
may not be so. Say not, How do I know that there is
any such misery to be inflicted in another world ; how do
I know but all is a fable, and that when I come to die
there will be an end of me, and that it will be with me as
it is with the beasts. Do not say, How do I know but
that all those things are only bugbears of man's inventing ;
how do I know that the Scriptures, that threaten those
things, are the word of God ; or if he has threatened those
things, it may be it is only to frighten men to keep them
to their duty, it may be he never intends to do as he
threatens. I say that there is no ground for any such suspicion,
neither is there any reason for it ; for that there should be
no future punishment is not only contrary to Scripture, but
reason. It is a most unreasonable thing to suppose that
there should be no future punishment, to suppose that God,
who had made man a rational creature, able to know his
duty, and sensible that he is deserving punishment when
he does it not ; should let man alone, and let him live as
he will, and never punish him for his sins, and never make
any difference between the good and the bad ; that he
should make the world of mankind and then let it alone,
and let men live all their days in wickedness, in adultery,
murder, robbery, and persecution, and the like, and suffer
them to live in prosperity, and never punish them ; that he
should suffer them to prosper in the world far beyond

884

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

many good men, and never punish them hereafter. How
unreasonable is it to suppose, that he who made the world,
should leave things in such confusion, and never take any
care of the government of his creatures, and that he should
never judge his reasonable creatures ! Reason teaches that
there is a God, and reason teaches that if there be, he
must be a wise and just God, and that he must take
care to order things wisely and justly among his creatures ;
and therefore it is unreasonable to suppose that man dies
like a beast, and that there is no future punishment. And
if there be a future punishment, it is unreasonable to sup
pose that God has not somewhere or other given men
warning of it, and revealed to them what kind of punish
ment they must expect. Will a wise lawgiver keep his
subjects in ignorance as to what punishment they must
expect for breaking his laws ? And if God has revealed it,
where is it to be found but in the Scripture ; what revela
tion have we of a future state if it is not there revealed ?
Where does God tell mankind what kind of rewards and
punishments they must expect, if not here? and it is
abundantly manifest by innumerable evidences, that these
threatenings are the threatenings of God, that this awful
book is his revelation. And since God has threatened,
there is no room to question whether he will fulfil ; for he
hath said it, yea, he hath sworn it, that he will repay the
wicked to his face according to threatenings, and that he
will glorify himself in their destruction, and that this
heaven and earth shall pass away. How foolish then is
the thought that God may only threaten such punishment
to frighten men, and that he never intends to execute it!
For as surely as God is God, he will do as he has said ;
he will destroy the mountains of iniquity as he has
threatened, and there shall be no escaping. How vain are
the thoughts of those who flatter themselves that God will
not fulfil his threatenings, and that he only frightens and
deceives men in them ; as though God could in no other
way govern the world than by making use of fallacious
tricks and deceits to delude his subjects ! Those that en
tertain such thoughts, however they may harden them
selves by them for the present, will cherish them but a
little while ; their experience will soon convince them that
God is a God of truth, and that his threatenings are no de
lusions. They will be convinced that he is a God who will
by no means clear the guilty, and that his threatenings are
substantial, and not mere shadows, when it will be too
late to escape them. Deut. xxix. 18, 19, 20, 21. " Lest
there should be among you man, or woman, or family, or
tribe, whose heart turneth away this day from the Lord our
God, to go and serve the gods of these nations ; lest there
should be among you a root that beareth gall and worm
wood ; and it come to pass, when he heareth the words of
this curse, that he bless himself in his heart, saying, I shall
have peace, though I walk in the imagination of mine
heart, to add drunkenness to thirst : the Lord will not
spare him ; but then the anger of the Lord and his jealousy
shall smoke against that man, and all the curses that are
written in this book shall lie upon him, and the Lord shall
blot out his name from under heaven. And the Lord shall
separate him unto evil out of all the tribes of Israel, ac
cording to all the curses of the covenant that are written in
this book ofthe law." Psal. 1. 21. " These things hast thou
done, and I kept silence ; thou thoughtest that I was alto
gether such an one as thyself: but I will reprove thee, and
set them in order before thine eyes."
2. There is no reason to suspect that possibly ministers
set forth this matter beyond what it really is, that possibly
it is not so dreadful and terrible as is pretended, and that
ministers strain the description of it bejond just bounds.
Some may be ready to think so, because it seems to them
incredible that there should be so dreadful a misery to any
creature; but there is no reason for any such thoughts as
these, if we consider,
First. How great a punishment the sins of wicked men
deserve. The Scripture teaches us that any one sin de
serves eternal death : Rom. vi. 23. " For the wages of sin is
death : but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus
Christ our Lord." And that it deserves the eternal curse
of God. Deut. xxvii. 26. " Cursed be he that confirmeth
not all the words of this law to do them : and all the people
shall say, Amen." Gal. iii. 10. " For as many as are of the

works of the law are under the curse : for it is written,
Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which
are written in the book of the law to do them." Which
things imply that the least sin deserves total and eternal
destruction. Eternal death, in the least degree of it,
amounts to such a degree of misery as is the perfect de
struction of the creature, the loss of all good, and perfect
misery ; and so does being accursed of God imply it. To
be cursed of God, is to be devoted to perfect and ultimate
destruction. The Scripture teaches that wicked men shall
be punished to their full desert, that they shall pay all the
debt. Secondly. There is no reason to think that ministers de
scribe the misery of the wicked beyond what it is, because
the Scripture teaches us that this is one end of ungodly
men, to show the dreadfulness and power of God's wrath.
Rom. ix. 22. " What if God, willing to show his wrath,
and to make his power known, endured wilh much long-
suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction." It is
often spoken of as part of the glory of God, that he is a
terrible and dreadful God. Psal. lxviii. 35. " O God, thou
art terrible out of thy holy places :" lhat he is a consuming
fire. Psal. lxvi. 3. " How terrible art thou in thy works I
through the greatness of thy power shall thine enemies sub
mit themselves unto thee :" and that herein one part of the
glory of God is represented as consisting, that it is so dread
ful a thing to injure and offend God. The wrath of a king
is as the roaring of a lion, the wrath of a man is some
times dreadful, but the future punishment of ungodly men
is to show what the wrath of God.is ; it is to show to the
whole universe the glory of God's power. 2 Thess. i. 9.
" Who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from
the presence of ihe Lord, and from the glory of his power."
And therefore the punishment which we have described
is not at all incredible, and there is no reason to think
that it has been in the least described beyond what it
really is.
Thirdly. The Scripture teaches that the wrath of God
on wicked men is dreadful beyond all that we can con
ceive. Psal. xc. 11. " Who knoweth the power of thine
anger? even according to thy fear, so is thy wrath." As it
is but little that we know of God, as we know and can
conceive of but little of his power and his greatness, so it
is but a little that we know or can conceive of the dread
fulness of his wrath ; and therefore there is no reason to
suppose that we set it forth beyond what it is. We have
rather reason to suppose that after we have said our utmost
and thought our utmost, all that we have said or thought
is but a faint shadow of the reality.
We are taught that the reward of the saints is beyond
all that can be spoken or conceived of. Eph. iii. 20.
" Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly
above all that we can ask or think." 1 Cor. ii. 9. " Eye
hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the
heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them
that love him." And so we mav rationally suppose that
the punishment of the wicked will also be inconceivably
dreadful. Fourthly.' There is no reason to think that we set forth
the misery of hell beyond the reality, because the Scrip
ture teaches us that the wrath of God is according to his
fear. Psal. xc. 11. This passage asserts that the wrath of
God is according to his awful attributes ; his greatness and
his might, his holiness and power. The majesty of God
is exceedingly great and awful, but according to his awful-
ness, so is his wrath ; this is the meaning of the words ;
and therefore we must conclude that the wrath of God is
indeed beyond all expression and signification terrible.
How great and awful indeed is his majesty, who has made
heaven and earth, and in what majesty will he come to
judge the world at the last day ! He will come to take
vengeance on ungodly men. The sight of this majesty
will strike wicked men with apprehensions and fears of
destruction. Fifthly. The description which I have given of the
tribulation and wrath of ungodly men, is not beyond the
truth, for it is the very description wbich the Scriptures
give of it. The Scriptures represent that the wicked shall
be cast into a furnace of fire ; not only a fire, but a fur
nace. Matt. xiii. 42. " And shall cast them into a furnace

SERMON VII

of fire ; there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth."
Rev. xx. 15. " And whosoever was not found written in
the book of life, was cast into the lake of fire." Psal. xxi.
8, 9. " Thine hand shall find out all thine enemies ; thy
right hand shall find out those that hate thee. Thou shalt
make them as a fiery oven in the time of thine anger ; the
Lord shall swallow them up in his wrath, and the fire
shall devour them."
If, therefore, I have described this misery beyond the
truth, then the Scriptures have done the same. It is evi
dent then, that there is no reason to flatter yourselves with
such imaginations. If God be true, you shall find the
wrath of God, and your future misery, full as great ; and
not only so, but much greater ; you will find that we know
but little, and have said but little about it, and that all our
expressions are faint in comparison ofthe reality.
III. Hence may be derived an argument to convince
wicked men of the justice of God in allotting such a por
tion to them. Wicked men, when they hear it declared
how awful the misery is of which they are in danger,
often have their hearts lifted up against God for it f it
seems to them very hard for God to deal so with any of
his creatures. They cannot see why God should be so
very severe with wicked men, for their sin and folly for a
little while in this world ; and when they consider that he
has threatened such punishments, they are ready to en
tertain blasphemous thoughts against him. I would there
fore endeavour to show you how justly you lie exposed to
that indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, of
which you have heard. Particularly I would show,
1st, How just it would be in God for ever to leave you
to yourself : it would be most just in God to refuse to be
with you, or help you.
You have embraced and refused to let go those things
which God hates; you have refused to forsake your lusts,
and to abandon those ways of sin that are abominable to
him. When God has commanded you to forsake them,
how have you refused, and still have retained them, and
been obstinate in it ! Neither is your heart yet to this
very day diverted from sin ; but it is dear to you, you
allow it the best place in your heart, you place it on the
throne there. Would it be any wonder therefore if God
should utterly leave you, seeing you will not leave sin ?
God has often declared his hatred of iniquity; and is it
any wonder, that he is not willing to dwell with that which
is so odious to him ? Is it not reasonable that God should
insist that you should part with your lusts in order to
your enjoying his presence ; and seeing you have so long
refused, how just would it be if God should utterly for
sake you ? You have retained and harboured God's mor
tal enemies, sin and Satan ; how justly therefore might
God stand at a distance 1 Is God obliged to be present
with any who harbour his enemies, and refuse to forsake
them? Would God be unjust, if he should leave you
utterly to yourself, so long as you will not forsake your
idols ?
Consider how just it would be in God to let you alone,
since you have let God alone. You have not sought God
for his presence and help as you ought to have done ; you
have neglected him; and would it not therefore be just if
he should neglect you? How long have many of you
lived in neglecting to seek him ? how long have you re
strained prayer before him ? Since therefore you refused
so much as to seek the presence and help of God, and did
not think them worth praying to him for, how justly might
he for ever withhold them, and so leave you wholly to
yourself? You have done what in you lies to drive God away from
you, and to cause him wholly to leave you. When God
in times past has not let you alone, but has been unwearied
in awakening you, have you not resisted the motions and
influences of his Spirit ; have you not refused to be con
ducted by him, or to yield to him? Zech. vii. 11. " But
they refused to hearken, and pulled away the shoulder,
and stopped their ears, that they should not hear." How
justlv therefore might God refuse to move or strive any
more! When God has been knocking at your door, you
have refused to open to him ; how just is it therefore that
he should go away, and knock at your door no more !
When the Spirit of God has been striving with you, have

you not been guilty of grieving the Holy Spirit by giving
way to a quarrelling temper, and by yielding yourself a
prey to lust? And have not some of 'you quenched the
Spirit, and been guilty of backsliding? and is God
obliged, notwithstanding all this, lo continue the striving
of his Spirit with you, to be resisted and grieved still, as
long as you please? On the contrary, would it not be
just if his Spirit should everlastingly leave you, and let
you alone?
2. How just it would be if you should be'cursed in all
your concerns in this world. It would be just if God
should curse you in every thing, and cause every thing you
enjoy, or are concerned in, to turn to your destruction.
You live here in all the concerns of life as an enemy to
God ; you have used all your enjoyments and possessions
against God, and to his dishonour; would it not therefore
be just if God should curse you in them, and turn them
all against you, and to your destruction ? What temporal
blessing has God given you, which you have not used in
the service of your lusts, in the service of sin and Satan ?
If you have been in prosperity, you have made use of it to
God's dishonour; when you have waxed fat, you have
forgotten the God that made you. How just 'therefore
would it be if God's curse should attend all your enjoy
ments ! Whatsoever employments you have followed,
vou have not served God in them, but God's enemies ;
how just therefore would it be if you should be cursed in
all your employments ! The means of grace that you have
enjoyed, you have not made use of as you ought to have
done ; you have made light of them, and have treated them
in a careless disregard ful manner; you have been the
worse and not the better for them. You have so attended
and used sabbaths, and spiritual opportunities, that you
have only made them occasions of manifesting your con
tempt of God and Christ, and divine things, by your care
less and profane manner of attending them ; would it not
therefore be most just that God's curse should attend your
means of grace, and the opportunities which you enjoy for
the salvation of your soul ?
You have improved your time only to heap up provoca
tions and add to your transgressions, in opposition to all
the calls and warnings that could be given you ; how just
therefore would it be if God should turn life itself into a
curse to you, and suffer you to live only to fill up the
measure of your sins !
You have, contrary to God's counsel, made use of your
own enjoyments to the hurt of your soul, and therefore if
God should turn them to the hurt and ruin of your soul,
he would but deal with you as you have dealt with your
self. God has earnestly counselled you times without
number to use your temporal enjoyments for your spiritual
good, but you have refused to hearken to him, you have
foolishly perverted Ihem to treasure up wrath against the
day of wrath, you have voluntarily used what God has
given you for your spiritual hurt, to increase your guilt
and wound your own soul ; and therefore if God's curse
should attend them, so that they should all turn to the
ruin of your soul, you would but be dealt with as you
have dealt with yourself.
3. How just would it be in God to cut you off, and put
an end to your life !
You have greatly abused the patience and long-suffering
of God which have already been exercised towards vou.
God with wonderful long-suffering has borne with you,
when you have gone on in rebellion against bim, and re
fused to turn from your evil ways. He has beheld you
going on obstinately in the ways of provocation against
him, and yet he has not let loose his wrath against you to
destroy you, but has still waited'to be gracious. He has
suffered you yet to live on his earth, and breafhe his air;
he has upheld and preserved you, and continued still to
feed you, and clothe you, and maintain you, and still to
give you a space to repent; but instead of being the
better for his patience, you have been the worse, instead of
being melted by it, you have been hardened, and it has
made you the more presumptuous in sin. Eccles. viii. 11.
" Because sentence against an evil work is not executed
speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set
in them to do evil." You have been guilty of despising
the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suf-

386

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

fering, instead of being led to repent by it. You cannot
live one day but as God maintains and provides for you ;
vou cannot draw a breath, or live a moment, unless God
upholds vou ; for in his hand your breath is, and he holds
•vour soui in life, and his visitation preserves your spirit.
"But what thanks has God had for it; how have you, in
stead of being turned to God, been only rendered the more
fully set and dreadfully hardened in the ways of sin !
How just therefore would it be if God's patience should
soon be at an end, and he should cease to bear with you
anv longer !
You have not only abused his past patience, but have
also abused his thoughts of future patience. You have
flattered yourself that death was not near, and that you
should live long in the world, and this has made you
abundantly the more bold in sin. Since therefore such
has been the use you have made of your expectation of
having vour life preserved, how just would it be in God to
disappoint that expectation, and cut you short of that long
life with which you have flattered yourself, and in the
thoughts of which you have encouraged yourself in sin
against him ! How' just would it be if your breath should
soon be stopped, and that suddenly, when you think not
of it, and you should be driven away in your wickedness !
As long as you live in sin you do but cumber the
ground, you are' wholly unprofitable, and live in vain. He
that refuses to live to the glory of God, does not answer
the end of his creation, and for" what should he live ? God
made men to serve him ; to this end he gave them life ;
and if they will not devote their lives to this end, how just
would it be in God if he should refuse to continue their
lives anv longer ! He has planted you in his vineyard, to
bear fruit : and if you bring forth no fruit, why should
he continue you any longer ? how just would it be in him
to cut you down !
As long as vou live, many of the blessings of God are
spent upon you from day to day ; you devour the fruits
of the earth "and consume much of its fatness and sweet
ness ; and all to no purpose, but to keep you alive to sin
against God, and spend all in wickedness. The whole
creation does as it were groan with you ; the sun rises and
sets to give you light, the clouds pour down rain upon
you, and the earth brings forth her fruits, and labours from
year to year to supply you ; and you in the mean time
do not answer the end of Him who has created all things.
How just therefore would it be if God should soon cut
vou off, and take vou away, and deliver the earth from this
burden, that the creation may no longer groan with you,
and cast you out as an abominable branch ! Luke xiii.
7. " Then" said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold,
these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig-tree, and
find none : cut it down ; why cumbereth it the ground ?"
John xv. 2 and 6. " Every branch in me that beareth not
fruit he taketh awav ; and every branch that beareth fruit
he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit. — If a man
abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is
withered ; and men gather them, and cast them into the
fire, and they are burned."
4. How just would it be if you should die in the great
est horror and amazement !
How often have you been exhorted to improve your
time, to lay a foundation of peace and comfort on a death
bed ; and yet you have refused to hearken ! You have
been many and many a time reminded that you must die,
that it was very uncertain when, and that you did not
know how soon, and have been told how mean and insig
nificant all your earthly enjoyments would then appear,
and how unable to afford, you any comfort on a death-bed.
You have been often told how dreadful it would be to lie
on a death-bed in a Christless state, having nothing to
comfort you but your worldly enjoyments. You have
been often put in mind of the torment and amazement
which sinners, who have mispent their precious time, are
subject to when arrested by death. You have been told
how infinitely you would then need to have God your
friend, and to have the testimony of a good conscience,
and a well-grounded hope of future blessedness. And
how often have you been exhorted to take care to provide
against such a day as this, and to lay up treasure in heaven,
that you might have something to depend on when you

parted from this world, something to hope for when all
things bere below fail ! But remember how regardless
you have been, how dull and negligent from time to time,
when you have sat under the hearing of such things, and
still you obstinately refuse to prepare for death, and take
no care to lay a good foundation against that time. And
vou have not only been counselled, but you have seen
others on their death-beds in fear and distress, or have
heard of them, and have not taken warning ; yea, some
of you have been sick yourselves, and have been afraid
that you were on your death-beds, yet God was merciful
to you, and restored you, but you did not take warning
to prepare for death. How justly therefore might you be
the subject of that horror and amazement, of which you
have heard, when you come to die !
And not only so, but how industriously have you spent
vour time in treasuring up matter for tribulation and
anguish at that time ! You have not only been negligent
of laving a foundation for peace and comfort then, but
have spent your time continuallv and unweariedly in lay
ing a foundation for distress and horror. How have you
gone on from day to day, heaping up more and more guilt ;
more and more wounding your own conscience, still in
creasing the amount of folly and wickedness for you to
reflect upon ! How just therefore would it be that tribu
lation and anguish should then come upon you 1
5. How just it is that you should suffer the wrath of
God in another world !
Because you have wilfully provoked and stirred up that
wrath. If vou are not willing to suffer the anger of God,
then whv did you provoke him to anger ? why did you
act as though you would contrive to make him angry with
you ? why did you wilfully disobey God ? You know
that wilful disobedience tends to provoke him who is
disobeyed ; it is so in an earthly king, or master, or father.
If you have a servant who is wilfully disobedient, it pro
vokes your anger. And again, if you would not suffer
God's wrath, why have you so often cast a slight on God ?
If any one casts a slight "on men, it tends to provoke them :
how much more may the Infinite Majesty of heaven be
provoked, when he is contemned ! You have also robbed
God of bis property, you have refused to give him that
which is his own. It provokes men when they are deprived
of their due and they are dealt injuriously by ; how much
more may God be provoked when you rob him !
You have also slighted the kindness of God to you, and
that the greatest love and kindness of which vou can con
ceive. You have been supremely ungrateful, and have
only abused that kindness. Nothing provokes men more
than to have their kindness slighted and abused ; how
much more may God be provoked when men requite his
infinite mercy only with disobedience and ingratitude ! If
therefore you go on to provoke God, and to stir up his
wrath, how can vou expect anv other than to suffer his
wrath ? If then you should indeed suffer the wrath of an
offended God, remember it is what you have procured
for yourself, it is a fire of your own kindling.
You would not accept of deliverance from God's wrath,
when it has been offered to vou. When God had in
mercy sent his only-begotten Son into the world, you re
fused to admit him. You loved your sins too well to for
sake them to come to Christ, and'for the sake of your sins
vou have rejected all the offers of a Saviour, so that you
have chosen death rather than life. After you had pro
cured wrath to vourself you clove fast to it, and would
not part with it for mercy. " All they that hate me, love
death." 6. How just would it be that vou be delivered up into
the hands of the devil and his angels, to be tormented bv
them hereafter, seeing you have voluntarily given yourself
up to serve them here! You have hearkened to them
rather than to God. How just therefore would it be if
God leave you to them ! You have followed Satan and
adhered to' his interest in opposition to God, and have
subjected yourself to his will in this world, rather than to
tbe will of God ; how just therefore would it be if God
should give you up to bis will hereafter !
7. How justly may your bodies be made organs of tor
ment to you hereafter, which you have made organs and
instruments of sin in this world ! You have given up you?

SERMON VII.

887

bodies a sacrifice to sin and Satan : how justly therefore
may God give them up a sacrifice to wrath ! You have
employed your bodies as servants to your vile and hateful
lusts How just therefore would it be for God hereafter
to raise your bodies to be organs and instruments of
misery ; and to fill them as full of torment as they have
been filled full of sin !
8. But the greatest objection of wicked men against the
justice of the future punishment which God has threaten
ed, is from the greatness of that punishment : that God
should inflict upon the finally impenitent, torments so
extreme, so amazingly dreadful, to have their bodies cast
into a furnace of fire of such immense heat and fierceness,
there to lie unconsumed, and yet full of sense and feeling,
glowing within and without; and the soul full of yet
more dreadful horror and torment; and so to remain
without any remedy or rest for ever, and ever, and ever.
And, therefore, I would mention several things to you, to
show how justly you lie exposed to so dreadful a punish
ment. 1 . This punishment, as dreadful as it is, is not more so
than the Being is great and glorious against whom you
have sinned. It is true this punishment is dreadful be
yond all expression or conception, and so is the greatness
and gloriousness of God as much beyond all expression
or conception ; and yet you have continued to sin against
him, yea, you have been bold and presumptuous in your
sins, and nave multiplied transgressions against him with
out end. The wrath of God that you have heard of,
dreadful as it is, is not more dreadful than that Majesty
which you have despised and trampled on is awful. This
punishment is indeed enough to fill one with horror barely
to think of it ; and so it would fill you with at least equal
horror to think of sinning so exceedingly against so great
and glorious a God, if you conceived of it aright. Jer. ii.
\%, 13. " Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this, and be
horribly afraid ; be ye very desolate, saith the Lord : for
my people have committed two evils ; they have forsaken
me the fountain of living waters ; and hewed them out
cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water !" God's
being so infinitely great and excellent, has not influenced
you not to sin against him, but you have done it boldly,
and made nothing of it, thousands of times ; and why
should this misery, being so infinitely great and dreadful,
hinder God from inflicting it on you ? 1 Sam. ii. 25. " if
one man sin against another, the judge shall judge him :
but if a man sin against the Loid, who shall entreat for
him?" 2. Your nature is not more averse from such misery as
you have heard of, than God's nature is averse from such
sin as you have been guilty of. The nature of man is very
averse from pain and torment, and especially it is exceed
ingly averse from such dreadful and eternal torment ; but
yet that does not hinder but that.it is just that it should be
inflicted, for men do not hate misery more than God hates
sin. God is so holy, and is of so pure a nature, that he
has an infinite aversion to sin ; but yet you have made
light of sin, and your sins have been exceedingly multi
plied and enhanced. The consideration of God's hating
of it has not at all hindered you from committing it ; why,
therefore, should the consideration of your hating misery
hinder God from bringing it upon you ? God represents
himself in his word as burdened and wearied with the sins
of wicked men : Isa. i. 14. " Your new moons and your
appointed feasts, my soul hateth : they are a trouble unto
me; I am weary to bear them;" Ma'l. ii. 17. " Ye have
wearied the Lord with your words : yet ye say, Wherein
have we wearied him ? When ye say, Every one that doeth
evil is good in the sight of the Lord, and he delighteth in
them ; or, Where is the God of judgment ?"
3. You have not cared how much God's honour suffer
ed ; and why should God be careful lest your misery be
great? You have been told how much these and those
things which you have practised, were to the dishonour of
God; yet you did not care for that, but went on still
multiplying transgressions. The consideration that the
more you sinned, the more God was dishonoured, did not
in the least restrain you. If it had not been for fear of
God's displeasure, you would not have cared though you
had dishonoured him ten thousand times as much as you

did. As for any respect you had to God, you did not care
what became of God's honour, nor of his happiness neither,
no, nor of his being. Why then is God obliged to be
careful how much you suffer? Why should he be careful
of your welfare, or use any caution lest he should lay
more on you than you can bear.
4. As great as this wrath is, it is not greater than that
love of God which you have slighted and rejected. God,
in infinite mercy to lost sinners, has provided a way for
them to escape future misery, and to obtain eternal life.
For that end he has given his only-begotten Son, a person
infinitely glorious and honourable in himself— being equal
with God, and infinitely near and dear to God. It was ten
thousand times more than if God had given all the angels
in heaven, or the whole world, for sinners. Him he gave
to be incarnate, to suffer death, to be made a curse for us,
and to undergo the dreadful wrath of God in our room,
and thus to purchase for us eternal glory. This glorious
person has been offered to you times without number, and
he has stood and knocked at your door, till his hairs were
wet with the dews of the night ; but all that he has done
has not won upon you ; you see no form nor comeliness in
him, no beauty that you should desire him. When he has
thus offered himself to you as your Saviour, you never
freely and heartily accept of him. This love which you
have thus abused, is as great as that wrath of which you
are in danger. If you would have accepted of it, vou might
have had the enjoyment of this love instead of enduring this
terrible wrath : so that the misery you have heard of is not
greater than the love you have despised, and the happiness
and glory which you have rejected. How just then would
it be in' God to execute upon you this dreadful wrath,
which is not greater than that love which you have de
spised ! Heb. ii. 3. " How shall we escape if we neglect
so great salvation ?"
5. If you complain of this punishment as being too great,
then why has it not been great enough to deter you from
sin ? As great as it is, you have made nothing of it. When
God threatened to inflict it on you, you did not mind his
threatenings, but were bold to disobey him, and to do those
very things for which he threatened this punishment. Great
as this punishment is, it has not been great enough to keep
you from living a wilfully wicked life, and going on in
ways that you knew were evil. When you have been told
that such and such things certainly exposed you to this
punishment, you did not abstain on that account, but went
on from day to day in a most presumptuous manner, and
God's threatening' such a punishment was no effectual
check upon you. Why therefore do you now complain of
tbis punishment as too great, and quarrel against it, and
say that God is unreasonable and cruel to inflict it? In so
saying you are condemned out of your own mouth ; for if
it be so'dreadful a punishment, and more than is just, then
why was it not great enough at least to restrain you from
wilful sinning ? Luke xix. 21 , &c. " I feared thee, because
thou art an austere man, thou takest up that thou laidest
not down, and reapest that thou didst not sow. And he
said unto him, Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee,
thou wicked servant," &c. You complain of this punish
ment as too great : but yet you have acted as if it was not
great enough, and you" have made light of it. If the
punishment is too great, why have you gone on to make it
still greater ? You have gone on from day to day, to trea
sure up wrath against the day of wrath, to add to your
punishment, and increase it exceedingly ; and vet now you
complain of it as too great, as though God could not
justly inflict so great a punishment. How absurd and
self-contradictory is the conduct of such an one, who com
plains of God for making his punishment too great, and
yet from day to day industriously gathers and heaps up
fuel, to make the fire the greater !'
6. You have no cause to complain of the punishment
being greater than is just ; for you have many and many
a time provoked God to do his worst. If you should for
bid a servant to do a given thing, and threaten that if he
did it you would inflict some very dreadful punishment
upon him, and he should do it notwithstanding, and you
should renew your command, and warn him in the most
strict manner possible not to do it, and tell him you would
surely punish him if he persisted, and should declare that

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

his punishment should be exceedingly dreadful, and he
should wholly disregard you, and should disobey you
again, and you should continue to repeat your commands
and warnings, still setting out the dreadfulness of the
punishment, and he should still, without any regard to
you, go on again and again to disobey you to your face,
and this immediately on your thus forbidding and threat
ening him : could vou take it any otherwise than as daring
you to do your worst ? But thus have you done towards
God ; you have had his commands repeated, and his
threatenings set before you hundreds of times, and have
been most solemnly warned; yet have you notwithstand-

I ing gone on in ways which you knew were sinful, and
have done the very things which he has forbidden, directly
before his face. Job xv. 25, 26. " Foi he stretcheth out
his hand against God, and strengtheneth himself igainst the
Almighty. He runneth upon him, even on his neck, upon
the thick bosses of his buckler." You have thus bid de
fiance to the Almighty, even when you saw the sword of
his vindictive wrath uplifted, that it might fall upon your
head. Will it, therefore, be any wonder if he shall make
you know how terrible that wrath is, in your utter de
struction ?

SERMON VIII.*

Romans ii. 10.
But glory, honour, and peace, to every man that worketh
good.
The apostle, having in the preceding verses declared
what is the portion of wicked men ; viz. indignation and
wrath, tribulation and anguish ; in this verse declares what
is the portion assigned to good men. In the words of the
text we should observe,
1. The description of a good man; viz. the man that
worketh good. Such men are here described by the fruit
which they bring forth. Christ has taught us that the tree
is known by its fruit. Paul here describes them by that
which most distinguishes them ; not by the external pri
vileges which they enjoy, or the light under which they
live ; but by the fruits which they bring forth. For as the
apostle says, in verse 13. " Not the hearers of the law are
just before God, but the doers of it shall be justified." That
which distinguishes good men from bad, is not that they
hear good, or that they profess good, or that they intend
good ; but that they do good. They are workers of good.
2. The reward of such a man ; viz. " glory, honour, and
peace;" in which are mentioned three sorts of good that are
assigned to them as their portion. 1. Their moral good,
expressed by the word glory. Glory shall be given tbem ;
i. e. they shall be made excellent and glorious. They shall
be endued with those excellent and glorious qualifications,
which will render them beautiful and lovely. They shall
have the image of God, and be partakers of his holiness.
Thus the word glory is used by St. Paul, 2 Cor. iii. 18.
We are changed into the same image from glory to glory.
2. Their relative good ; Honour. They shall be in most
honourable circumstances. They shall be advanced to
great dignity, receive a relation to God, and Christ, and
the heavenly inhabitants, and God shall put honour upon
them. 3. Their natural good; Peace: which, as it is
used in the Scriptures, signifies happiness; and includes
all comfort, joy, and pleasure.
I shall endeavour to show from the text, that glory,
honour, and peace are the portion which God has given
to all good men. In describing their happiness, I shall
consider the successive parts of it; both here and here
after. First. I propose to treat of their happiness in this
world. Those who are truly good men hare been the
subjects of a real thorough work of conversion, and have
had their hearts turned from sin to God. Of such persons
it may be said, that they are truly blessed. They are often
pronounced blessed by God. He is infinitely wise, and
sees and knows all things. He perfectly knows who are
blessed, and who are miserable. He hath said, " Blessed
is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungod
ly." — " Blessed is he whose sins are forgiven." — " Blessed
is the man that maketh the Lord his trust." — " Blessed are
* December, 17-10.

the poor in spirit" — " the meek" — " the merciful" — " the
pure in heart."
In considering the happiness of the righteous in this
world, I shall pursue the method which the text obviously
points out, and shall consider, 1. The excellency; 2. Tbe
honour ; and, 3. The peace and pleasure, which God be-
stowsmpon tbem in the present life.
I. The excellency or glory. The sum of this consists
in their having the image of God upon them. When a
person is converted, he has the image of God instamped
on him. Coloss. iii. 10. " And have put on the new man,
which is renewed in knowledge after tbe image of him who
created him." And Ephes. iv. 23, 24. "And be renewed
in the spirit of your mind, and that ye put on the new man,
which after God is created in righteousness." Thev have
their eyes opened, and are led into such a sight of God and
thorough acquaintance with him, as changes the soul into
the image of God's glory.
What can render a creature more excellent than to have
the very image of the Creator ? and how blessed a change
is that which is wrought in conversion, which brings a man
thus to be in the image of God ! For though the image of
God in Christians in this world is very imperfect, yet it is
real. The real image of God is most excellent, though it
be imperfect.
Hence, " the righteous is more excellent than his neigh
bour," and " the saints are the excellent of the earth."
The image of God is their glory, and it may well be called
glory, for imperfect as it is, it renders them glorious in the
eyes of the angels of heaven. The image of God is a
greater beauty in their eyes, than the brightness and glory
of the sun in the firmament.
Indeed the saints have no excellency, as they are in and
of themselves. In them, that is, in their flesh, dwells no
good thing. They are in themselves poor, guilty, vile
creatures, and see themselves to be so; but they have an
excellency and glory in them, because they have Christ
dwelling in them. The excellency that is in them, though
it be but as a spark, yet it is something ten thousand times
more excellentthan any ruby,or the most precious pearl that
ever was found on the earth ; and that because it is some
thing divine, something of God.
This holy heavenly spark is put into the soul in con
version, and God maintains it there. All the powers of
hell cannot put it out, for God will keep it alive, and it
shall prevail more and more. Though it be but small, yet
it is powerful ; it has influence over the heart to govern it,
and brings forth holy fruits in the life, and will not cease
to prevail till it has consumed all the corruption that is
left in the heart, and till it has turned the whole soul into
a pure, holy, and heavenly flame, till the soul of man he-
comes like the angels, a flame of fire, and shines as the
brightness of the firmament.
II. I would consider the honour to which Christians
are advanced in this world; and the sum of this is, that

SERMON VIII.

they are the children of God. This is an excellent and
glorious degree of honour and dignity lo which they are
admitted ; and that because the Being to whom they are
related is an infinitely glorious being, a being of incompre
hensible majesty and excellency; and also because the
relation is so near and honourable a relation. It is a great
honour to be the servant of God. John the Baptist said of
Christ, that he was not worthy to stoop down to loose the
latchet of Christ's shoes. But Christians are not only ad
mitted to be the servants of God, but his children ;' and
how much more honourable in a family is the relation of
children than that of servants ! Gal. iv. 7. " Wherefore
thou art no more a servant, but a son ; and if a son, then
an heir of God through Christ." Rom. viii. 1&, 17. "The
Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the
children of God ; and if children, then heirs ; heirs of
God, and joint heirs with Chrisl, if so be that we suffer
with him, that we may be also glorified together." 1 John
iii. 1. " Behold, what manner of love the Father hath be
stowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of
God !" The honour appears the greater if it be consider
ed how Christians are brought into their relation to God ;
and that is by Christ. They become the children of God
by virtue of their union with the only-begotten and eternal
Son of God ; they are united to him as his spouse, and
members of his body, as his flesh and his bones, and as
one spirit; and, therefore, as Christ is the Son of God, so
they are sons ; therefore are they joint heirs with Christ,
because they are joint sons with him. To this end God
sent forth his Son, that so they might through him also be
sons. Gal. iv. 4, 5. " But when the fulness of time was
come, God sent forth his Son made of a woman, made
under the law, to redeem them that were under the law,
that we might receive the adoption of sons." And there
fore they partaking of the relation of the Son, so are they
also of the spirit of the Son ; as it follows in the next
verse, " and because ye are sons, God hath sent forth
the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba,
Father." Herein Christians are the children of God in a more
honourable wav than the angels themselves ; for the angels
are the sons of God by virtue of that relation which they
have to God, as they are in themselves singly and se
parately. But Christians are the children of God, as par
taking with Christ, the onlv-beeotten Son, in his sonship,
whose sonship is immensely more honourable than that of
the angels. And Christians, being the children of God,
are honoured of God as such. They are sometimes owned
as such by the inward testimony of the Spirit of God.
For, as it is found in the verse already cited from Romans,
" Ihe Spirit beareth witness with our spirits that we are
the children of God." They are treated as such in the
great value God puts upon "them, for they are his jewels,
those which he has set apart for himself; and he is tender
of them as ofthe apple of his eve. He disregards wicked
men in comparison of them. He will give kings for them
and princes for tbeir life. He is jealous for them. He is
very angry with those that hurt them. If any offend them,
it were better for them lhat a mill-stone were cast about
their neck, and they were drowned in the depths of the
sea. He loves them with a very great and wonderful
love. He pities them as a father pities his children. He
will protect them, and defend them, and provide for them,
as a father provides for his children. This honour have
all they that fear and love God, and trust in the Lord Jesus
Christ. III. Peace and pleasure are also the portion of Chris
tians in this world. Their peace and joy in God begin in
the present life, and are no less excellent than the glory
with which he invests them, and the honour to which he
advances them. We ought here to consider, 1. What
foundation they have for peace and. joy. 2., What peace
and jov they actually have.
1st. Their foundation for peace and joy is in their safety
and their riches.
1. They have ground for peace because of their safety.
Thev are safe in Jesus Christ from the wrath of God and
from the power of Satan. They that are in Christ shall
never perish, for none shall pluck them out of his hand.
They are delivered from all their dreidful misery, that in

dignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, which shall
come on ungodly men. They were naturally exposed to
it, but they are delivered from it ; their sins are all for
given them. The hand-writing is eternally blotted out.
Their sins are all done away ; God has cast them behind
his back, and buried their sorrows in the depths of the
sea, and they shall no more come into remembrance. They
are most safe from misery, for they are built on Christ
their everlasting rock. Who is he that condemns? It is
Christ that died, yea, rather, is risen again, who is even at
the right hand of God. They have the faithful promise ot
God for their security, that is established as a sure wit
ness in heaven. They have an interest in that covenant,
that is well ordered in all things and sure. " Neither
death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor
depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate
them from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus."
2. They have a foundation of unspeakable comfort and
joy, because of their riches. They have true and infinite
riches. They are the possessors and heirs of something
real and substantial, and that is worthy to be called by
the name of riches. The things they possess are excellent,
more precious than gold and than rubies ; all the desir
able things of this world cannot equal them, and they
have enough of it. The riches that they have given them
of God are inexhaustible. It is sufficient for them ; there
is no end of it. They have a fountain of infinite good for
their comfort, and contentment, and joy ; for God has
given himself to them to be their portion, and he is a
God of infinite glory. There is glory in him to engage
their contemplation for ever and ever, without ever being
satiated. And he is also an infinite fountain of love; for
God is love, yea, an ocean of love without shore or bot
tom 1 The glorious Son of God is theirs ; that lovely
one, who was from all eternity God's delight, rejoicing
always before him. All his beauty is their portion, and
bis dying love is theirs, his very heart is theirs, and his
glory and happiness in heaven are theirs, so far as their
capacity will allow them to partake of it ; for he has pro
mised it to them, and has taken possession of it in their
name. And the saints are also rich in the principle that
is in them. They have inward riches which they carry
about with them in their own hearts. They are rich in
faith. James ii. 5. " Hearken, my beloved brethren, hath
not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and
heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that
love him ?" They have the grace of God in their hearts,
which is a most excellent treasure, and a good foundation
of joy ; for it is the seed of joy. Light is sown for the
righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. And the
seed that is sown in their hearts, is the grace of God
there. That is a seed that, however it lies hid, will cer
tainly in due time spring up, and put forth itself, and will
bud, and blossom, and will bring forth rich fruit. These
riches are the true riches. This is that good which God
reserves for his friends. God distributes silver and gold
and such like things among his enemies, because he slights
them and regards them not. They are contemptible things
in bis eyes, as we throw husks to swine. But he has re
served better things for his children, of which no ungodly
man, though a prince or monarch, shall partake. This is
the ground which Christians have of peace and pleasure
in this world. However, the saints cannot always take
comfort, and do not always taste the sweetness that there
is in store for them, by reason of the darkness and clouds
that sometimes interpose. But though they may walk in
great darkness for a long time, yet they are happy not
withstanding. .
2d. They sometimes in this world have the actual en
joyment of peace and pleasure that are most excellent.
Sometimes the clouds that are in the way are removed, and
Christians are enabled to behold the ground they have for
rejoicing. Though God's glory and love be often hid from
them, as it were with a veil, or at least, so as to hinder a
clear view of it, yet God sometimes is pleased to remove
the veil, to draw the curtain, and to give the saints sweet
visions. Sometimes there is, as it were, a window opened
in heaven, and Christ shows himself through the lattice ;
they have sometimes a beam of sweet light breaking forth

890

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

from above into the soul ; and God and the Redeemer
sometimes come to them, and make friendly visits to
them, and manifest themselves to them. Sometimes
Christians have seasons of light and gladness for some
considerable period, and at other times their views are
more transient. Sometimes their light and joy arise in
reading of the Holy Scriptures, sometimes in hearing the
word preached, sometimes at tbe Lord's table, sometimes
in the duty of prayer, sometimes in christian conference,
sometimes in meditation when they are about their occu
pations, as in the time of more set and solemn meditations;
and sometimes in the watches ofthe night.
Those spiritual joys and pleasures wbich believers pos
sess in this world, are chiefly of three sorts.
1. The joy which they have in a sense of their own
good estate ; in the sense they have of the pardon of
their sins, and their safety from hell ; and a sense of
the favour of God, and in "the hope thev have of eternal
life. 2. The joy and delight which they have in the appre
hension and view of God's excellency and love. The joy
of a Christian does not consist merely in the sense of his
own good estate, as natural men often are ready to ima
gine ; but there is an excellent, transcendent, soul-satisfy
ing sweetness that sometimes fills the soul in the appre
hension of the excellency of God. Tlie soul dwells upon
the thought, fixes on it, and takes complacence in God as
the greatest good, the most delightful object of its con
templation. This pleasure is the sweetest pleasure that a
Christian ever feels, and is the foretaste of the pleasures
of heaven itself. Herein sometimes the saints do boast of
the clusters of Canaan . This sort of joy is evidence of
sincerity above any other joy, a more sure evidence than a
rejoicing in our own good estate. From the joy which the
Christian has in the view of the glory and excellency of
God ; the consideration of the love of God to him cannot
be excluded. When he rejoices in God as a glorious God,
he rejoices in him the more because he is his God, and in
consideration of there being a union between him and this
God ; otherwise, if there were a separation, the view of
God's excellency, though it would raise joy one way,
would proportionally excite grief another. God is some
times pleased to manifest his love to the saints, and com
monly at those times, when a Christian has the greatest
views of God's excellency, he has also of his love ; the
soul is spiritually sensible of God as being present with
it, and as manifesting and communicating himself; and
it has sweet communion with God, and tastes the sweet
ness of his love, and knows a little what is the length, and
breadth, and depth, and height of that love which passeth
knowledge. 3. The third kind of joy is found in doing that which
is to the glory of God. The true love of God makes this
sweet and delightful to the soul. The joy of a Christian
not only arises in knowing and viewing, but also in doing ;
not only in apprehending God, but also in doing for God.
For he loves God not only with a love of complacence, but
a love of benevolence also ; and as a love of complacence
delights in beholding, so does a love of benevolence de
light in doing for, the object beloved. The peace and
pleasure which the Christian has in these things, is far
better and more desirable than the pleasures that this world
can afford, and especially than the pleasures of wicked
men ; and that on the following accounts.
1 . There is light in this pleasure. The peace and plea
sures of wicked men have their foundation in darkness.
When wicked men have any quietness or joy, it is because
they are blind, and do not see what is their real condition.
If it were not for blindness and delusion, they could have
no peace nor comfort in any thing. There needs notbing
but to open a wicked man's eyes, and let him look about
him and see where he is, and it would be enough to de
stroy all the quietness and comfort of the most prosperous
wicked man in the world. But on the contrary, the peace
of a godly man, is a peace that arises from light; when
he sees things most as thev are, then he has roost peace ;
and the distress and trouble which he sometimes feels,
arise from clouds and darkness, When a godly man is
in the greatest fear and distress, if he did not know what a
happy state he were in, he wou|d at the same time rejoice

with unspeakable joy ; so that his pleasure is not found
ed, like that of wicked men, in stupidity, but in sensible
ness ; not in blindness, but in light, and sight, and
knowledge. •
2. There is rest in this pleasure. He that has found
this joy, finds a sweet repose and acquiescence of the soul
in it. It sweetly calms the soul and allays its disappoint
ments. Christ says, Matt. xi. 28. " Come unto me, all ye
that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Tliere is a sweet contentment in it ; the soul that tastes it,
desires no better pleasure. There is a satisfaction in it.
The soul that has been wandering before, when it comes
to taste of this fountain, finds in it that which satisfies its
desires and cravings, and discovers that in it which it needs
in order to its happiness. John iv. 14. " Whosoever
drinketh of the water that I shall give him, shall never
thirst : but the water that I shall give him, shall be in him
a well of water springing up into everlasting life." It is
quite otherwise with the pleasures of ungodly men. There
is no true rest in them, they are not enjoyed with inward
quietness, there is no true peace enjoyed within, neither do
they afford contentment. But those wicked men that have
the most worldly pleasures, are yet restlessly inquiring,
" Who will show us any good ? " " The wicked are like
the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast
up mire and dirt." Wicked men in the midst of their
enjoyment of pleasure have no true rest, neither do their
reflections on it afford rest ; but only remorse of con
science, and disquietude of soul, under the guilt that is
contracted. But the pleasures of the godly afford rest
in the enjoyment, and rest and sweetness in the reflec
tion ; it oftentimes calms and refreshes the soul to look on
past comforts.
3. There is life in it. It is a pleasure that strengthens
and nourishes and preserves the soul, and gives it life, and
does not corrupt and destroy and bring it to death, as do
sinful pleasures. The pleasures of the wicked are poison
to the soul, they tend to enfeeble it, to consume it, and
kill it. But the pleasures of the godly feed the soul, and
do not consume it; they strengthen, and do not weaken
it ; they exalt, and do not debase it ; they enrich, and do
not impoverish it. Death and corruption are the natural
fruit of the pleasures of sin, but life is the fruit of spirit
ual pleasures. Gal. vi. 8. " For he that soweth to his
flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption : but he that sow
eth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting."
The life in which this joy consists, and to which it tends,
is the most excellent life, and the only life worthy of the
name ; it is spiritual, and the beginning of eternal life :
this pleasure is a fountain springing up to everlasting life.
John iv. 14.
4. There is substance in it. This pleasure is not a
mere shadow, an empty delight, as earthly pleasures are,
but it is substantial joy. The pleasures of sin last but a
little season, they are the crackling of thorns under a pot,
or as the blazing meteors of the night, that appear for a
moment, and then vanish. But this pleasure is like the
durable light of the stars or the sun. Worldly pleasures
are easily overthrown ; a little thing will spoil all the
pleasures of a king's court. Haman, in the midst of all
his prosperity and greatness, could say, " Yet all this
availeth me nothing, so long as I see Mordecai the Jew
sitting at the king's gate." But the joys of the saints are
such as the changes of time cannot overthrow. If God
lifts up the light of his countenance, this will compose and
rejoice the heart under the saddest tidings. They joy in
affliction. Their enemies cannot overthrow this joy ; the
devil and even death itself cannot overthrow it ; but often
times it lives, and is in its greatest height, in the midst of
the valley of the shadow of death. When in the most
tormenting death, how often have the martyrs sung in the
midst of the flames, and under the hands of their cruel
tormentors ! Job xxxv. 10, " But none saith, Where is
God my Maker, who giveth songs in the night."
5, There is holiness in h\ It is the excellency of these
joys that they are holy joys, They are not like the pol
luted stream of sinful pleasures, but they are pure and
holy. Rev. xxii. 1 . " And he showed me a pure river of
water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out. of the throne
of God and, ofthe Lamb," Ihese pleasures do not defile

SERMON VIII.

891

the soul, but purify it ; they do not deform, but beautify
it; they not only greatly delight the soul, but render it
more excellent; they impart something more of God,
more of a divine disposition and temper, dispose to boly
actions, and cause the soul to shine as Moses's face did
when he had been conversing with God in the mount,
and as Stephen's face, which was as the face of an angel,
when he saw heaven opened, and the Son of man stand
ing on the right hand of God, Thus these pleasures make
the soul more excellent, and more divine, as well as more
happy. 6. There is sometimes glory in it. God sometimes un
veils his face, and lets in light more plentifully. Tbis is a
delight and joy, the excellency, and sweetness, and ad-
mirableness of which cannot be expressed. It is a kind
of glory that fills the soul. So excellent is its nature, that
the sweetest earthly delight vanishes into nothing, and ap
pears as base and vile as dross and dirt, or as the mere
mire ofthe street. It is bright above all that is earthly, as
the sun is brighter than the glow-worm. Of this, the
apostle takes notice. 1 Peter i. 8. " Whom having not
seen, ye love ; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet
believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of
glory." Secondly. I proceed to consider the happiness of the
saints in death. It may seem a mystery to the world that
men should be happy in death, which the world looks
upon as the most terrible of all things ; but thus it is to
the saints. Their happiness is built upon a rock, and it
will stand the shock of death : when the storm and floods
of death come with their greatest violence, it stands firm,
and neither death nor hell can overthrow it. Here,
1. Death is rendered no death to them. It is not wor
thy ofthe name of death. As the life of a wicked man is
not worthy of the name of life, so the death of a godly
man is not worthy of the name of death. It is not looked
upon as any death at all in the eves of God, who sees all
things as they are, nor is it called death by him. Hence
Christ promises,, that those who believe in him shall not
die. John vi. 50, 51. " This is the bread which cometh
down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof and not
die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven ;
if any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever: and
the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for
the life of the world." It is no death to the saints, be
cause it is no destruction to them. The notion of death
implies destruction, or perishing, in it; but the godly are
not destroyed by death, dealh cannot destroy them ; for as
Christ says, they shall never perish. John iii. 15. " That
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have
eternal life." A godly man, when he dies, in no wise
perishes. There is no end put to his life as a Christian,
for that is a spiritual life that remains unquenched by death.
A wicked man, when he dies, dies indeed, because then
an end is put to all the life which he has ; for he has no
other life but temporal life; but the life of a Christian is
hid with Christ, and safely laid up with him in heaven;
and therefore death cannot reach his life, because it cannot
reach heaven. Death can no more reach the believer's life
than Christ's life. No death can reach Christ our life now,
though he died once : but now he has for ever sat down at
the right hand of God. He says, for the comfort of his
saints, Rev. i. 18. "I am he that liveth and was dead:
and behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen ; and have the
keys of hell and death." Death not only cannot destroy a
Christian, but it cannot hurt him; Christ carries him on
eagle wings aloft on high, out of the reach of death. Death,
with respect to him, is disarmed of his power : and every
Christian may say, " O death, where is thy sting ?" Death
was once indeed a terribfe enemy, but now he has become
weak. He spent all his strength on Christ; in killing
him, he killed himself; he was conquered then, and has
now no power to hurt his followers, Death is now but
the sbadow of what he would have been if Christ had not
conquered him ; he was once a lion, but now he is but a
lamb. A good man may indeed be harassed with fears
of death, and may be much terrified when going through
the vallev of the shadow of death, but that is no just
ground of any terror, and if the saints are terrifieH, it is
pnlj through 'their ipfirmity surd darkness- As a ch,ild is.

frightened in the dark where there is no danger, because
he is a child, so a good man may be affrighted at the terri
ble looks of death. But he will find this awful appearance
to be only a shadow, that can look terribly, but can do
nothing terrible. Death may, through the weakness of
the saints, trouble them, and exercise them, but he cannot
destroy the ground they have for comfort and support.
When death comes to a wicked man, all those things on
which he built his comfort fail, their foundation is over
flown with a flood. Job xxii. 16. But the foundation of
the peace and comfort of the godly man is not shaken at
such a time. Oftentimes the saints are actually carried
above all the fears and terrors of death ; they see that it is
but a shadow, and are not afraid : not only their founda
tion of comfort remains, but that peace and comfort itself
is undisturbed, the light shines through the darkness, and
the lamb-like nature of death appears through the shadow
of the lion. The godly have a God to stand by them when
they come to die, in whose love and favour they may
shelter themselves, in whose favour is life, yea, life in
death ; and they have a blessed Saviour to be with them,
to uphold them with the right hand of his righteousness.
These are the friends they have with them, when they are
going to take their leave of all earthly friends. God will
be with them when their flesh and heart fails; God will
be the strength of their heart, when they are weak and
faint, and nature fails. God will put underneath his ever
lasting arms to support them, and will make all their bed
for them in their sickness. Psal. xxxvii. 37. " Mark the
perfect man, and behold the upright ; for the end of that
man is peace."
2. Death is not only no death to them, but it is a trans
lation to a more glorious life, and is turned into a kind of
resurrection from the dead. Death is a happy change to
them, and a change that is by far more like a resurrection
than a death. It is a change from a state of much sin,
and sorrow, and darkness, to a slate of perfect light, and
holiness, and joy. When a saint dies, he awakes, as it
were, out of sleep. This life is a dull, lifeless state; there
is but a littie spiritual life, and a great deal of deadness ;
there is but a little light, and a great deal of darkness;
tbere is but a little sense, and a great deal of stupidity and
senselessness. But when a godiy man dies, all this dead
ness, and darkness, and stupidity, and senselessness are
gone for ever, and he enters immediately into a state of
perfect life, and perfect light, and activity, and joyfulness.
A man's conversion is compared to a resurrection, because
then a man rises from spiritual death. Eph. ii. 1. " And
you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and
sins." But though spiritual life is then begun, yet there.
are great remains of spiritual death after this, and but little
life. But when a godly man dies, he rises from all re
mains of spiritual death, and comes into a state of perfect
life. This body is like a prison to the holy soul, it exceed
ingly clogs, arid hinders, and cramps it in its spiritual
exercises and comforts. But when a saint dies, the soul is
released from, this prison, this grave, and comes into a state
of glorious freedom and happiness. So that death is not
only deprived of his sting, but is made a servant to the
saints, to bring them to Christ in heaven, who is their life.
And their ground of comfort does not only last when they
are going out of the world, but it is in some respects in
creased, for then their perfect happiness draws nigh. It is
" far better" to depart and be with Christ, than to continue
here. And when the saints are enabled to see their own
happiness in death, they are enabled exceedingly to rejoice
in the midst of the valley of the shadow of death, and to
triumph joyfully over tbe king of terrors. Death lo the
saints is always a passage or avenue, leading out of a
world of vanity, and sin, and misery, into a world of life,
light, and glory ; but though often a dark avenue, it is at
times full of light, the darkness all vanishes away, and the
light shines out of that glorious city into which they are
entering. It shines through the darkness and fills the soul,
and the clouds of death vanish before it. The awful ap
pearance pf death is but a mask or disguise that death
wears. It is not terrible but joyful in reality, and this
light of the new Jerusalem sometimes so clearlv shines,
that it shines through the frightful disguise, and showsthe
saints, that death is but a servant. Yea, sometimes it is.

892

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

so when death has on its most terrible disguise that ever it
wears, and comes in its most dreadful forms, as when the
saints are burnt at the stake, and put to all cruel and tor
menting deaths. It is oftentimes joyful to the saints when
dying, to think that they are now going into the glorious
presence of God, to enjoy God and Christ to the full.
The joyful expectation sometimes makes them ready to
cry out, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!"
and " Why is his chariot so long in coming ? "
Thirdly. Let us next consider the happiness of the saints,
in their state of separation from the body.
1 . When the soul departs from the body, it is received
by the blessed angels and conducted by them to the third
heavens. On the eve of its departure there is a guard of
angels standing round the dying bed ; and the devils,
though eager to seize upon it as their prey, shall by no
means be suffered to come nigh. The holy angels shall
be a guard to the soul, to keep off all its enemies. We
are taught that this is part of the office in which God em
ploys them. Psat. xxxiv. 7. "The angel of the Lord
encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth
them." Psal. xci. 11. "For he shall give his angels charge
over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways ; " as it was with
Daniel in the lion's den. Dan. vi. 22. " My God hath
sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths, that they
have not hurt me : forasmuch as before him innocency was
found in me ; and also before thee, O king, have I done
no hurt." And as soon as the soul is loose from the body,
it shall be kindly and courteously received by those bright
and blessed ones, to be conducted by them into Christ's
glorious presence ; for the angels are all ministering spirits,
sent forth to minister to them that shall be the heirs of
salvation. This is one way in which they shall minister;
viz. to guard and conduct the departed spirits of the
saints ; which we are plainly taught in the parable of the
rich man and Lazarus. Luke xvi. 22. "And it came to
pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels
into Abraham's bosom : the rich man also died, and was
buried." These spirits of holiness and love, when they
have received the soul, shall conduct it along through the
aerial and starry heavens to the most glorious part of the
universe ; the highest part of the creation, the place of
God's most holy residence, the city and palace of the most
high God, where Christ is. There are some who say that
there is no such place as heaven ; but this is evidently a
mistake, for the heaven into which the man Christ Jesus
entered with his glorified body, is certainly some place.
It is absurd to suppose that the heaven where the body of
Christ is, is not a place. To say that the body of Christ
is in no place, is the same thing as to say he has no body.
The heaven where Christ is, is a place ; for he was seen
ascending, and will be seen descending again ; and the
heaven where the departed souls of the saints are, is the
same heaven where Christ has ascended. And therefore
Stephen, when he was departing this life, saw heaven
opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of
God. And he prayed to that same Jesus whom he saw,
that he would receive his spirit ; i. e. that he would receive
it to him, where he saw him, at the right hand of God.
And the apostle Paul signifies, that if be should depart,
he should be with Christ. Phil. i. 23. "For I am in a
strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be
with Christ, whicb is far better :" 2 Cor. v. 8. "We are
confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the
body, and to be present with the Lord." Besides, there
are some of the saints there already with their bodies, as
Enoch and Elijah. Therefore there is some place, where
God gloriously manifests himself, and where Christ is, and
where saints and angels dwell, and whither the angels
carry the souls of the saints when they depart from their
bodies ; and this place is called Paradise, and the third
heaven. 2 Cor. xii. 2, 4. The aerial heaven is the first
heaven ; the starry heaven is the second ; and the blessed
abode of Christ and saints and angels the third, because it
is above the other two ; and so Christ is said to be made
higher than the heavens. Heb. vii. 26. "For such an
high priest became us, who is holv, harmless, undefiled,
separate from sinners, and made higher than the heavens,"
»'. e. higher than the visible heaven. This heaven is far
above the stars. So it is said that Christ ascended far

above all heavens. Eph. iv. 10. "He that descended is
the same also that ascended up far above all heavens, that
he might fill all things," i. e. far above all the heaven that
we see. This is the mount Zion, the city of the living
God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and hither the angels con
duct the souls of" the saints when they leave their earthly
tabernacles. When they come there, they shall be received
with a joyful welcome, the doors of this glorious city are
opened to them, and they shall have entrance given to
them into heaven, as an inheritance to which they have a
right. Rev. xxii. 14. "Blessed are they that do his com
mandments, that they may have right to the tree of life,
and may enter in through" the gates into the city." And
then shall open to view that glorious world, that beautiful
city, and delightful paradise, which they had often before
heard of, and thought of, and desired ; then they shall see
it, and possess it as their own. There they shall be wel
comed and joyfully received by that glorious company
that dwell there, by the angels, and by the saints that
went to heaven before them. There was joy among them
at their conversion, and now also will there be joy among
tbem when they are brought home to glory. To have one
that was dear to them before, because a child of the same
family and a disciple of the same Lord, brought home
from a strange country to come and dwell with them for
ever ; how will their fellow-citizens and brethren in heaven
be glad for them, and rejoice with them, and embrace
them, when they come there to join them in their praises
of God and the Lamb ! And then they shall be conducted
unto the Lord Jesus Christ in his glory, and shall be pre
sented to him perfectly free from sin, and without Spot, or
wrinkle, or any such thing ; who will also abundantly
welcome them to his glory, and to the blessed enjoying of
his love. And then shall their good Shepherd rejoice, when
be shall not only have brought home the soul that was lost
to a saving close with him, but home to him in his heavenly
Father's house. The Saviour shall then rejoice when he
shali receive a soul that he loved before the foundation of
tbe world ; and for which he laid down,his life, and en
dured such dreadful sufferings. This was the joy that
was set before him, to redeem and make happy the souls
of his elect ; and he will rejoice, therefore, when he sees
this accomplisbed. He will bid them welcome, and make
tbem welcome, and they shall be received into the full en
joyment of his love. The Lamb that is in the midst of
the throne shall feed them, and he shall present them also
to God his Father, having redeemed them to him by his
blood, who shall also abundantly welcome them there.
Then the soul shall behold that glory and taste that plea
sure which it long hoped for, and thought of with delight,
and the thoughts of which were wont to be such a support
to it when on earth ; then shall it know by experience
what the joys of heaven are ; then shall the great and
precious promises of the gospel be fulfilled ; then shall
faith be turned into vision, and hope into fruition ; then
shall all sin be eternally left behind ; there shall be no
more indwelling corruption, wicked thoughts, or sinful
dispositions, to torment them. And whatever sorrow and
affliction they underwent on earth, God shall now wipe
away all tears from their eyes ; and though they have
lately passed through death, yet there shall be no more
death, nor sorrow, nor crying ; neither shall there be any
more pain, because the former things shall be passed away.
Rev. xxi. 4. If they have lived hardly in this world, and
suffered hunger and thirst, there shall be an end of it all ;
and they that have suffered persecution, and have had their
raiment stained with their own blood, shall now suffer no
more. "And he said unto me, These are they which came
out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and
made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore
are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and
night in his temple : and he that sitteth on the throne shall
dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither
thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light on them, nor
any heat : for the Lamb which is in the midst of the
throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living
fountains of water ; and God shall wipe away all tears
from their eyes." Rev. vii. 14, 15, 16, 17. Though they
had many enemies to conflict with while on earth, yet now
shall they obtain the victory over them ; now shall they

SERMON VIII.

893

triumph and sing, being for ever out of the reach of all
Satan s temptations, and of all his power to afflict or
molest them ; now shall they appear in mount Zion with
the Lamb, clothed in white robes, and palms in their
hands. Rev. vii. 9.
3. They shall remain there in a state of exceeding glory
and blessedness, till the resurrection. Thev sball remain
there in the enjoyment of God, dwelling with Jesus Christ
in a state of perfect rest, without the least disturbance or
molestation. uRev. iv. 1-3. " And I heard a voice from
heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which
die in the Lord, from henceforth : Yea, saith the Spirit,
that they may rest from their labours ; and their works do
follow them." There they shall dwell in habitations of
sweet delight and pleasure in paradise ; there they shall
drink of those rivers of pleasures for "evermore ; there they
shall dwell in perfect light and perfect love ; there they
shall see and converse with God and Christ, and with
angels and glorious spirits, and shall contemplate the
wonderful love of God to men in sending his only Son ;
there shall they contemplate the glorious iove of God to
them, the love he had to them before the foundation of the
world. There shall they see and know what love Christ
had to them, that influenced him to lay down his life for
them ; and shall behold the beauty and excellency of
Christ, and see face to face, and know even as they are
known. 1 Cor. xiii. 12. There they shall sweetly meditate
on the wonderful dealings of God to them while in this
lower world, in preserving of them, in granting to them to
live under means of grace, when many thousands and
millions of others never had these privileges. They shall
contemplate the wonderful mercy of God to them in striv
ing with them by his Spirit, in convincing them of sin, in
stirring them up to seek salvation, in converting them, and
in bringing them out of darkness into marvellous light.
The mercy and grace of God in converting them will then
appear otherwise to them than it does now. They shall
then contemplate the manifold mercies of God to them
through the whole course of their lives ; they shall see
how God has protected them, and guided them by his
counsel, and led them all along ; they shall see the wonder
ful wisdom and mercy of God towards them in these and
those dispensations, that now appear most dark to them,
shall see the meaning of those that were matter of diffi
culty to them, and shall see how all things wrought to
gether for their good. These will be sweet meditations to
them, and doubtless will be subjects of the saints' conver
sation with each other. How sweet will it be for the saints
to look back and see how God carried them along through
the wilderness, through all the storms of this world, and
all its dangers, and temptations, and enemies, after they
have come to their resting-place ; and how sweet will it
he for them to converse together of these things, and what
ardent praises will it occasion ! And then also shall they
see the wisdom of God in the government and ordering of
the affairs of his church all along, the scheme of divine
providence shall be opened to them, and the admirable
wisdom of it shall be unfolded ; and they shall also see
how God brings his purposes and promises to pass in his
providence towards bis cburch here on earth ; they shall
see and rejoice at it when the kingdom of God flourishes
in the world. We are lold, there is joy in heaven if but one
sinner repenteth. Then doubtless the saints of the Old
Testament after their entrance into heaven, saw and re
joiced when Christ came into the world ; and therefore two
of them, Moses and Elijah, came down to converse with
Christ, at his transfiguration. Abraham, Moses, and Da-
rid, and the prophets Isaiah and Daniel, and all the pro
phets, doubtless saw the fulfilment of the glorious things
foretold in their prophecies with exceeding rejoicing.
They saw that glorious enlargement of the church that was
produced by the preaching of the prophets. And thus
also the apostles and evangelists in heaven, and other
primitive Christians and martvrs, saw the glorious flourish
ing and prevailing of the kingdom of Christ after their
death, till the utter downfall of heathenism, and the establish
ment of Cbristianity throughout the Roman ertipire.
The holy martyrs with joy beheld the destruction of
those pagan powers that persecuted the church of God.
Rev. vi. 9, 10, 11. " And when he had opened the fifth

seal, I saw under the altar the souls of thein that were
slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which
they held : and they cried with a loud voice, saying, How
long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and
avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth ? And
white robes were given unto every one of them ; and it
was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little
season, until their fellow-servants also and their brethren,
that should be killed as they were, should be fulfilled."
Therefore they rejoiced when they saw it accomplished.
And so the saints that died in former ages, they witbout
doubt beheld and rejoiced greatly at the time of the resur
rection from popery in the days of Luther and Calvin, and
other reformers. And so doubtless the saints that went to
heaven, before this remarkable outpouring of the Spirit
on this town and other neighbouring towns, especially
those that went to heaven from hence, have seen this work
and greatly rejoiced at it. And so the saints, that die be
fore the glorious days that are coming at the downfall of
antichrist and the calling of the Jews, will rejoice at the
conversion of the world to Christianity. We are ready to
lament that we shall not probably live to see those times.
But if we die and go to heaven, we shall see them never
theless, and rejoice in them not the less for not being in
this world ; but we shall rejoice more, for we shall see
and understand more of the glory of God in such a work,
and have more love to God, and therefore shall rejoice
more at the advancement of his kingdom. Thus when the
apostle John had visions of the glorious things that should
be brought to pass for the advancement of the kingdom of
Christ, he from time to time mentions the visions he also
had of the hosts of heaven rejoicing at it. Rev. xi. 15,
16, 17. " And the seventh angel sounded, and there were
great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world
are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ;
and he shall reign for ever and evef. And the four and
twenty elders, which sat before God on their seats, fell
upon their faces and worshipped God, saying, We give thee
thanks, O Lord God Almighty, which art, and wast, and
art to come ; because thou hast taken to thee thy great
power, and bast reigned." So when the spiritual Babylon,
the church of Rome, falls, the holy aposties and prophets,
though dead many ages before, are called upon to rejoice.
Rev. xviii. 20. " Rejoice over her, thou heavens, and ye
holy apostles and prophets ; for God hath avenged you on
her." So the multitude of the heavenly hosts are described
as rejoicing, and as singing hallelujahs on that occasion ;
and all heaven is full of praise. Rev. xix. 1. " And after
these things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven,
saying, Alleluia ; Salvation, and glpry, and honour, and
power, unto the Lord our God : for true and righteous
are his judgments; for he hath judged the great whore,
which did corrupt the earth with her fornication, and hath
avenged the blood of his servants at her hand. And again
they said, Alleluia. And her smoke went up for ever and
ever." These things may give us some notion how the
spirits of just men made perfect do employ themselves.
4. They remain in a joyful expectation of their more full
and complete blessedness at the resurrection. As the
wicked have not their full punishment until after the re
surrection, so neither have the saints their complete hap
piness. Though they have attained to such exceeding
glory, yet they are not yet arrived at its highest degrees,
for that is reserved for their final state. The reward which
the saints receive after the resurrection, is often spoken of as
tbeir chief reward. This is the reward that Christ has
promised. John vi. 40. " And this is the will of him that
sent me, that every one which seeth the Son, and believeth
on him, may have everlasting life ; and I will raise him
up at the last day." This is the chief reward that the
saints seek and wait for. Rom. viii. 23. " And not only
they, but ourselves also, which have the first-fruits of the
Spirit, even we ourselves groan earnestly within ourselves,
waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our
body." Philip, iii. 11. " If bv any means I might attain
unto the resurrection of the dead." " Women received
their dead raised to life again ; and others were tortured,
not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better
resurrection." So the happiness, that shall be given at
Christ's second coming, is spoken of as the principal hap-

894

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

piness. Titus ii. 13. " Looking for that blessed hope, and
the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour
Jesus Christ.
This the saints will be in joyful expectation of in
heaven ; they shall rest in sweet repose on God's promise
that il shall be so, their desires of it bringing no uneasiness;
they rejoicing in it most in the consideration that it will be
in God's time, in the fittest and best time.
Fourthly. I shall consider the glory, honour, and peace,
which the godly shall receive at the resurrection and the
day of judgment.
i. When the time appointed comes, notice shall be
given of it in heaven, which will be to their exceeding joy.
God has in his own eternal counsels fixed the time, but
now it is kept secret ; it is not only not known by any on
the earth, but neither is it known in heaven by either saints
or angels there, and the man Christ Jesus himself, in his
state of humiliation, did not himself know it : Matt. xxiv.
36. " But of that day and hour knoweth no man ; no not
the angels of heaven, but my Father only." The saints
and angels in heaven have a joyful expectation of it, but
they know not when it is ; but when the time comes, God's
eternal counsels conceming it shall be made known ; the
joyful tidings shall be proclaimed through all heaven, that
all may prepare to attend the Lord Jesus Christ in his
descent to the earth.
2. They shall descend with Christ from the highest
heaven towards the earth. When notice is given to the
heavenly host, they shall all gather themselves together to
attend on this most joyful and glorious occasion ; and then
the glorious Son of God shall descend, and the holy angels
with him, and not only the angels, but the souls of the
saints, shall come with Christ. 1 Thess. iv. 14. " For if
we believe that Jesus died, and rose again, even so them
also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him."
Christ shall descend with the glory of his Father ; he shall
appear in a glory, becoming the Supreme Lord and Judge
of heaven and earth. Now heaven will for a time be left
empty of its inhabitants ; those glorious and blessed
abodes will be deserted by those that dwelt there, to attend
the judge of the world.
3. Tbe saints on earth shall behold this glorious sight
of their Saviour coming in the clouds of heaven, with all
his holy angels with him. The first notice that shall be
given of this descent shall be in heaven, but soon after
there shall be notice of it on earth. Christ shall be seen
coming while he is yet at a great distance ; every eye shall
see him, of both good and bad. And it will' be the
most joyful sight to the saints that ever they saw. The
first notice of it will cause their hearts to overflow with
joy and gladness, it will fill the hearts of the godly as full
of joy as it will the wicked with terror and amazement. If
the saints are then waked out of their sleep at midnight
with this sound, that Christ appears in the clouds of
heaven coming to judgment, it will be joyful news to
them. It is probable many ofthe saints at that time will
be found suffering persecution, for there are several things
in Scripture which seem to declare, that the rime wben
Christ is coming shall be a time when wickedness
shall exceedingly abound, and the saints shall be greatly
persecuted. But this Shall set them at liberty ; tben tbey
may lift up their heads out of prisons and dungeons, and
many out of galleys, and mines, and shall see tbeir
Redeemer drawing nigh. This sight will drive away their
persecutors, it will put an end to all their cruelties, and
set God's people at liberty. And then when all tbe
kindreds of the earth shall wail at the sight of Christ in
the clouds of heaven, and wicked men every where shall
be shrieking and crying with terrible amazement, the
saints shall be filled with praise and transport. We read
that, when Christ ascended into heaven, the disciples
stood stedfastly looking on as he went up. But the saint-
then on earth shall view Christ with more stedfastness as
he descends in his heavenly and exceeding glory ; they
shall feed and feast their eyes with this majestic sight,
beholding in what solemn and glorious pomp tbeir own
blessed Redeemer descends. This sight shall put a final
end to all sorrow, and their everlasting joy and glory will
commence from it. The hope of the gloriotis appearing of
the great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ, is said to be

a blessed hope. Titus ii. 13.. " Looking for that blessed
hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our
Saviour Jesus Christ." But when it comes it will be a
more blessed sight.
4. The dead in Christ shall arise at the sound of the
last trumpet with glorified bodies, and the living saints
shall see them. The holy and blessed souls of saints that
descended from heaven with Christ, shall then be re-united
to those bodies that shall be prepared by infinite wisdom
and skill to be fit organs for a holy and happy soul. The
body shall not rise as it was before ; there shall be a vast
difference in it. 1 Cor. xv. 42, 43, 44. " It is sown in
corruption, it is raised in incorruption ; it is sown in dis-i
honour, it is raised in glory ; it is sown in weakness, it is
raised in power ; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a
spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a
spiritual body." The glory of that body that the saints
shall rise witb is what we now cannot conceive of. It
shall not be such a dull and heavymoulded thing as it is
now : it shall be active and vigorous as a flame of fire fit
for the use of a glorified soul. It will be no clog or hin
derance to the soul as it is now, but an organ every way
fit for the use of a glorious spirit. It shall not be weak,
infirm, and frail as it is now ; for, though it is sown in
weakness, it is raised in power. Now the body is in need
of food and sleep continually, to recreate it, but it shall
not be so then ; now the body is subject to weariness, and
to diseases, but it shall not be so then ; now if God lets
in any great matter of divine light into the soul, the body
is ready to sink under it, but it shall not be so then. The
glorified body of the saints shall not then fail or flag at all
by the most powerful exercises of mind. Now no man
can see God and live, but the body would immediately
sink and be dissolved ; but then the body shall not fail at
all by the immediate beholding of God. Now the saints
can see but little. When God a little reveals himself, as
he doth at times, the saints are forced to beseech God
either to strengthen them to see it, or to stay his hand ;
but then the body shall be so vigorous and spiritual, that
the constant and everlasting view of the glory of God
shall not in any wise overcome it, or cause It in the least
to fail.
The body shall not only be raised in an exceeding
strength, but in wonderful beauty, fof we are told that their
bodies shall be like to Christ's glorious body. The
greatest beauty that ever any human body appeared in in
this world, is vile and base in comparison, Tne beauty of
the bodies of the saints shall not only consist in the most
lovely proportion of the features of their countenance and
parts of their bodies, but in a semblance of the excellen
cies of their minds, which will appear exceedingly in their
countenance ; their air and mien will be such as will
naturally result from the wisdom, purity, and love of the
soul, and shall denote and hold forth an inexpressible
sweetness, benevolence, and complacence ; and if I may
speak what appears to me probable, and what seems to
be authorized by the Scriptures, their bodies shall be as it
were clothed with garments of light. The prophet Daniel,
speaking of the resurrection, says, Dan. xii. 2, 3. " And
many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall
awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and
everlasting contempt. And tbey that be wise shall shine
as the brightness of the firmament ; and they that turn
many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever."
And Christ, speaking of the end of the world, says, Matt.
xiii. 43. " Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun
in the kingdom of their Father." And there.is nothing to
hinder our understanding this literally of their bodies, and
especially when this shining of the saints is spoken of from
time to time as what shall be at the resurrection, and not
of their souls in a separate state. Moses's face shone
when he had been conversing with God in the mount ;
much more may it be expected that the bodies of the
saints shall shine, when they shall converse a thousand
times more intimately with God, not in mount Sinai, but in
heaven. We read of Christ, that when his body was trans
figured, to teach us what the body of Christ should be in
its glorified state, we are told that, when his body was
transfigured, his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment
was white as the light. Matt. xvii. 2. But we are told

SERMON VIII.

895

that the bodies of the saints shall be made like unto
Christ's glorious body ; there therefore seems to be much
ground to think, that at the resurrection the bodies of the
saints shall shine with a glorious light, and that tbey shall
be as it were clothed with light. Thus the departed saints
shall arise with glorious bodies, they shall lift up their
heads out of their graves with joyful and glorious coun
tenances : and at the same time the bodies of the living
shall in a moment be changed into the same strength, and
activity, and incorruptibility, and beauty and glory, with
which those that were dead shall arise. 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52,
53. " Behold, I show you a mystery, we shall not all
sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the
twinkling of an eye, at the last trump ; (for the trumpet
shall sound ;) and the dead shall be raised incorruptible,
and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put
on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality."
5. Then all the saints shall mount up, as with wings, to
meet the Lord in the air, and to be for ever with him.
After the dead in Christ are risen, and the living saints
changed, then they will be prepared to go to Christ, and to
meet the bridegroom. The world will be about to be de
stroyed, and the wicked shall be in dreadful amazement,
but the saints shall be delivered. Dan. xii. 1. " And at
that time shall Michael stand up, the great prince which
standeth for the children of thy people, and there shall be
a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a na
tion, even to that same time : and at that time thy people
shall be delivered, every one that shall be found writtpn in
the book." They shall take an everlasting farewell of this
evil world where there is so much sin, and where they
have met with so much trouble, and they shall be caught
dp in the clouds, and there they shall meet their glorious
Redeemer ; and a joyful meeting it will be. They shall
go to Christ, never any more to be separated from him.
1 Thess. iv. 16, 17. " For the Lord himself shall descend
from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel,
and with the trump of God : and the dead in Christ shall
rise first. Then we, which are alive and remain, shall be
caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the
Lord in the air : and so shall we ever be with the Lord."
6. Then shall the good works, which the saints have
done, be declared to their peace and glory. We are often
told that every man shall be judged according to his works,
and Christ keeps a book of remembrance ofthe good works
ofthe saints as well as of the sins of the ungodly. And
however mean and polluted that which the saints do is in
itself, yet all the pollution that attends it is hid, and every
thing they do for God that has the least sincerity in it is
precious in God's eyes. Through his iu finite grace it shall in
no case lose its reward, neither shall it in any wise lose its
honour. At the day of judgment they shall receive praise
and glory in reward for it. Christ will declare all the good
they have done to their honour; what they did secretly
and the world knew it not, and when they did not let then-
left hand know what their right hand did. Then shall they
receive praise and honour for all their labour, for all their
self-denial, and all their suffering in the cause of Christ ;
and those good works of theirs that were despised, and for
which tbey were condemned, and suffered reproach, shall
now be set in a true light ; and however they were re
proached and slandered by men, they shall receive praise
of God in the sight of angels and men. 1 Cor. iv. 5.
" Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord
come, who both will bring to light the bidden things of
darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the
hearts; and then shall every man have praise of God."
Those righteous men that have been condemned here be
fore unjust judges, shall be acquitted and honoured then
before the righteous Judge of heaven and earth. Heb. vi.
10. " For God is not unrighteous to forget your work and
labour of love, which ye have showed towards his name, in
that ye have ministered to the saints, and do minister."
Then will be the time when their Lord and Master will say
unto them, " Well done, good and faithful servants."
Thus, in the description of the day of judgment in the
25th chapter of Matthew, Christ rehearses the good works
of the saints. " For I was an hungred, and ye gave me
meat : I was thirsty, and ye gave me drmk : I was a
stranger, and ye took me in : naked, and ye clothed me : I

was sick, and ye visited me : I was in prison, and ye came
unto me." And though the saints there reply, " Lord,
when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty,
and gave thee drink ? When saw we thee a stranger, and
took thee in I or naked, and clothed thee ? Or when saw
we (hee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee ?" Though
they thought lhat nothing that they had done was worthy
to be so accounted of as it was by Christ, yet Christ of his
grace esteemed it highly, and highly honoured them for it,
as it there follows, 40lh ver. "And the King shall answer,
and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye
have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye
have done it unto me." And if the sins of the saints shall
be rehearsed, it shall not be for their shame, but for the
glory of divine grace, to give opportunity to them to plead
the atonement of that Saviour who will be the Judge, to
give occasion to them to produce Christ's righteousness,
which will surely be accepted by himself.
7. The saints shall sit on thrones with Christ, to judge
wicked men and devils. Christ will put that honour upon
them on that day, he will cause them to sit on his right
hand as judges with him, and so the saints shall judge the
world. Matt. xix. 28. " And Jesus said unto them, Verily
I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the
regeneration when the Son of man shall sit on the throne
of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones judging
the twelve tribes of Israel." 1 Cor. vi. 2, 3. " Do ye not
know that the saints shall judge the world ? and if the
world shall be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the
smallest matters ? Know ye not that we shall judge angels?
how much more things that pertain to this life ?" They
shall judge kings and princes who were their persecutors,
and the devils, who were their tempters.
8. At the finishing of the judgment Christ shall pro
nounce the blessed sentence upon them, " Come, ye bless
ed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world,"
This blessed sentence Christ shall pronounce on them
with inexpressible manifestations of grace and love. Every
word of it will be ravishing to them, and will cause rap
tures of joy in their hearts ; that this glorious person,
though he orders with such indignation tbe wicked to de
part from him, yet will so sweetly invite them to come
with him, and that he should accost them after such a
manner, saying, " ye blessed of my Father." Christ will
pronounce them blessed in the sight of men and angels ;
and blessed indeed, because blessed by his Father. There
will not only be a manifestation of Christ's love to them in
this sentence, but a declaration of the Father's love, for
they are declared to be blessed of him. Christ shall in
vite them to come with him, and for no less a purpose than
to inherit a kingdom. Christ gives them a glorious king
dom ; the wealth to which he invites them is the wealth of
a kingdom ; and the honour he gives them is the honour of
kings ; and what yet adds to the blessedness is this, that it
is a kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the
world. God loved them from all eternity, and therefore he
has prepared a kingdom for them. God had respect to
them in the creation of the world, and then prepared this
glorious kingdom for them, and out of love to them. They
have therefore a right to it, and now therefore they are in
vited to come to possess it; and not only to possess it,
but to inherit it, that is, to possess it as heirs, as those that
have a right to the kingdom by virtue of their being his
children. Thus having considered what glory, honour, and peace
the saints have in this life, at dealh, in a separate state,
and at the day of judgment, I now proceed,
Fifthly, To consider their consummate state of happi
ness after the day of judgment. And here I would con
sider,!. Their entrance into this happiness; and 2. Its
nature, its degree, and some of the circumstances which
attend it.
1st. Their entrance into this state of consummate happi
ness. 1. When the judgment is ended they shall ascend with
Christ in a triumphant and glorious manner into heaven.
Christ, when he has passed sentence, shall then return
again; he shall pass beyond these aerial heavens, and shall
ascend towards the highest heaven, together with ten thou-

896

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

sand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands of
glorious spirits, and of the saints with their glorified bodies.
They shall leave this lower world, and all the wicked, to be
burnt in everlasting fire, and as they are ascending shall
look back and see it all in one vast conflagration. Then
shall be fulfilled, in the most remarkable manner, the pro
phecy in Psal. xlvii. 4, 5. " He shall choose our inherit
ance for us, the excellency of Jacob, whom he loved. God
is gone up with a shout, the Lord with the sound of a
trumpet." And that will be the most joyful procession
that ever will be seen. And when they are come to heaven
they shall enter in with joy into that new Jerusalem where
they are to dwell for ever ; and this will be the most joyful
dav that ever was in heaven. It is probable, that when
Christ ascended into heaven after his death and resurrec
tion, it was the most jovful day in heaven that ever had
been seen till ihen ; but this second ascension will be a more
glorious and joyful day than that.
2. When they have come to heaven, they shall be there
actually instated by God and Christ in their ultimate and
consummate happiness ; and now they shall have complete
redemption. To illustrate this, it may be observed,
1. They shall be perfectly happy in the whole man ;
both body and soul. Before their souls only were happy,
while the body lay in a state of putrefaction in the grave.
Now they shall be in that state which is natural to the
human soul, which is a state of union with the body. It
is natural for the soul to act by a body, and to make use
of such an organ, and the soul is not complete without the
body ; and then both body and soul shall be glorified to
gether. 2. Then will the body of Christ be perfect and com
plete. Then it shall have all its members, no one want
ing. Now the body of Christ is incomplete, there are many
members wanting ; but then it will be perfected, having
every member. Now the body of Christ is in a growing
state, but then it shall have come to its perfect state, to
receive no more addition. Then the body of Christ shall
be perfect, not only as it shall have every member, but
every member shall be in its perfect state. Now as there
are many of the members of Christ's body wanting, so there
are many that are imperfect ; many that are ingrafted into
Christ have great infirmity, and great remains of corrup
tion, and many of his members are now under affliction.
But then every member shall be perfectly freed from all
sin and sorrow, and there never will be any more either sin
or sorrow, in any member ofthe body of Christ. Then
also the body of Christ will be complete, because those
lhat are brought to a perfect state are wholly brought
home; before only the soul was brought home to glory,
while the body that was also to be united to Christ, lay in
the grave. The body of Christ will then also be in its
complete state, because then all the parts will be together;
and this is one end of Christ's coming into the world, viz.
that he might gather together all in one. Eph. i. 16. Be
fore they were scattered, some in heaven and some on
earth, some mixed with wicked men, as wheat with tares,
and as lilies among thorns. The church, therefore, now
being made complete, will exceedingly rejoice ; and Christ,
having his mystical body complete, will rejoice ; and all
his saints will rejoice with him. Christ will rejoice in the
completeness of his church, and the church will rejoice in
its own completeness.
3. Then will the' Mediator have fully accomplished the
work for which he came into the world. Then will he
have perfected the work of redemption, not only in the
impetration, but also in the application of it. Then all
that God has given him will be actually and fully re
deemed, their bodies as well as souls ; then will he have
conquered all his enemies, and will triumph over them all;
then he will have put down all authority and power. 1 Cor.
xv. 21, 22. " For since by man came death, by man came
also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die,
even so in Christ shall all be made alive. But every man
in his own order : Christ the first-fruits ; afterwards they
that are Christ's, at his coming. Then cometh the end,
when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God,
even the Father ; when he shall have put down all rule,
and all authority and power. For he must reign till he
bath put all enemies under his feet." Then Christ will

surely have obtained that joy that was set before him; then
be shall have perfected the full design that was upon his
heart from all eternity ; and then Christ will rejoice, and
all his members must rejoice with him. Christ shall tri
umph over his enemies, and the saints shall then triumph
over all their enemies, and the joys of the triumph shall
last for ever.
4. Then God will have obtained the end of all his great
works which he has been doing from the beginning of the
world. Then will be the consummation of all things : the
deep designs of God will be unfolded, his marvellous con
trivances, and his hidden, intricate, and inexplicable works,
will appear. The end being obtained, as all things are from
God, so will they then all be to him, and will issue in his
glory- His power appeared in the beginning of them, and
his glory will be manifested in Ihe end and consummation
of them. Then will it be seen that all the revolutions and
changes which have existed from the beginning of the
world are for God's glory ; then it will appear how all
the wheels of his providence have conspired together to
bring about the glory of God and Christ, and the happi
ness of his people ; and this will cause an exceeding ac
cession of happiness to the saints who behold it. Then
will God have fully glorified himself, and glorified his Son,
and glorified his elect ; then he will see that all is very
good, and will rejoice in his own works, which will be the
joy of all heaven. Then will God rest and be refreshed,
and thenceforward will all the inhabitants of heaven keep
an eternal sabbath of rest and praise, such as never was
kept before.
5. Then will be the marriage of the Lamb. When the
church is completely purified and beautified, and nothing
wanting, and all the parts of thebody in theirdue proportion
and joyful state ; then may the Lamb's wife be said to
have made herself ready ; then will she be as a bride pre
pared for her husband. And when the church is thus
prepared by Christ at such great cost, at the shedding of
his own blood ; it will be brought to a more glorious
union to Christ than ever before, and to a more intimate
communion with him, and to a more high enjoyment of
his excellency and love. Then will be the highest accom
plishment of the joy spoken of in Rev. xix. 7, 8, 9. " Let
us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him ; for the
marriage of the Lamb is come; and his wife hath made
herself ready. And to her was granted that she should be
arrayed in fine linen, clean and white ; for the fine linen is
the righteousness of saints. And he saith unto me, Write,
Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper
of the Lamb. And he saith unto me, These are the true
sayings of God." It will be the day of the gladness
of Christ's heart; the feast, and pomp, and holy mirth,
and joy of this marriage day, will be continued to all
eternity. 6. Then will Christ present his church to his Father.
The Father sent forth Christ into the world on that errand,
to redeem a vast number of the children of men, and to
bring them home to God, from whom they had aposta
tized, to bring them back to him, the great Creator and
Father of all things, and the fountain of all good. Christ,
having accomplished this, will bring them to God, and
present them to him ; and then may Christ say, as in
Heb. ii. 13. "Here am I, and the children which thou
hast given me ;" none of them is missing ; " of those that
thou hast given me, I have lost nothing." We read that
Christ, when he shall have accomplished the work which
the Falhersent him to do, shall deliver up thekingdom to
the Father. 1 Cor. xv. 24. " Then cometh the end, when
he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the
Father; when he shall have put down all rule, and all
authority and power." And as he shall deliver up the
kingdom, he shall present the subjects of the kingdom;
and what he has obtained by ruling, he shall present as the
fruits of his reign.
7. Then will God make a still more abundant manifes
tation and communication of himself. God shall be all in
all; and the glory of God and the glory of his Son shall
be displayed in heaven, in a more abundant manner than
ever before ; and he will pour forth more plentifully of his
Spirit, and will make answerable additions to tbe glory of
the saints, such as will be becoming the commencement

SERMON VIII.

897

of the ultimate and most perfect stale of things, and such
as will become the joyful occasion of the marriage of the
Lamb. 2d. I shall now describe the nature and degree of the
consummate and eternal glory and blessedness of the saints.
1. The nature of this glory and blessedness.
1. I would begin with the' lowest part of it, viz. the glory
ofthe place. We have already observed that beaven is a
place. They shall dwell in the most glorious part ofthe
whole creation of God. It is called paradise. Luke xxiii.
43. " And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To
day shalt thou be with me in paradise." 2 Cor. xii. 4.
"How that he was caught up into paradise, and heard un
speakable words, which it is not lawful for man to utter."
Rev. ii. 7. " He that hath ears to hear, let him hear what the
Spirit saith unto the churches ; To him that overcometh
will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of
the paradise of God." The word paradise signifies a most
pleasant and delightful garden, of which the garden of
Eden was a type. The garden of Eden was without doubt
a place that was delightful beyond what we can easily con
ceive; but if this earthly paradise was so delightful, how
pleasant and glorious may we conclude the heavenly para
dise to be ; that was not made merely to be the residence
of some ofthe innocent creatures of God during their time
of probation, as Eden was, but was prepared by infinite
wisdom and skill for the everlasting dwelling-place of the
preatKing of heaven and earth, and of his Son Jesus Christ;
the place where they might show their glory, and wisdom,
and love for ever, and which is to be the habitation of con
firmed saints and angels ! When God made the universe,
he made many parts of it for inferior uses, in which he dis
played marvellous skill ; then he made the earth, and the
sun, and moon, and stars, and the visible heavens, which
appear truly glorious ; but there was one part of the crea
tion that God made more especially for himself, to be his
own dwelling-place, the place of his glorious rest ; and we
may conclude that this is beyond all comparison more
glorious than the other parts of it. If some parts of the
visible world are so glorious, as the sun, moon, and stars,
how glorious may we conclude the highest heavens to be !
This is the heavenly mount Zion, the royal city of the
great God. It has been the ambition of earthly monarchs
to make the cities where they dwell exceedingly magnifi
cent. Thus die king of Babylon boasted, " Is not this
great Babylon, tbat I have built for the house of the king
dom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my
majesty 1" Dan. iv. 30. Especially will kings have their
own palaces most magnificent. But if those earthly cities
and palaces are some of them so glorious, which are for
the habitation of worms, how glorious may we think that
to be whicb is for the glorious habitation of God Almighty !
As the third heavens are higher than the earth, so we may
expect that it is proportionally more glorious than any
earthly garden, city, or palace. Heaven is not only the
city of God, but his palace ; not only his palace, but his
throne: Isa. lxvi. 1, "Thus saith the Lord, Heaven is
my throne, and the earth is my footstool : where is the
house that ye build unto me ; and where is tlie place of
my rest?" We read bow magnificent was Solomon's
throne. 1 Kings x. 18, 19, 20. " Moreover, the king
made a great throne of ivory, and overlaid it with the best
of gold. The throne had six steps, and the top of the
throne was round behind : and there were stays on either
side of the place of the seat, and two lions stood beside
the stays. And twelve lions stood there on the one side
and on* the other upon the six steps : there was not the like
made in any kingdom." But what is the throne of a
glowworm ? God does not want skill to make his palace
and throne glorious enough to become the majesty and
glory of him whose house and seat it is. The builder is
God, and there is no want of skill in the architect. How
glorious and magnificent was the temple of Solomon, that
was built only to be the place of the special symbols of
God's presence on earth among his people Israel ! How
much more glorious is that heavenly temple which God
himself has built, to be the place of his glorious presence
among glorified saints and angels throughout all eternity !
This is a place contrived on purpose to show the boundless
riches of God's grace and love; and therefore, God.ihas
vol. ii. 3 M

not spared as to the delights and glories with which he has
adorned the place. God is rich enough to make the place
transcend all created glory. Earthly kings build their
houses and palaces, and make them magnificent, according
to their wealth and ability ; but God is infinitely rich, he
does not spare for the cost of the treasures to be laid out in
adorning heaven, through fear of impoverishing himself.
The glory of his residence is what we cannot conceive of;
and tbis is one of those things spoken of in 1 Cor. ii. 9.
" Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered
into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared
for them that love him." Therefore in the descriptions
that are given of it in the Scriptures, the images made use
of to shadow it forth to us, are the most glorious witb which
we are conversant in the world. Such is the glorious
description of it by John, as represented to him in the
apocalyptic vision. Rev. xxi. 10, 11 — 18, 19, 20, 21, 22,
23. " And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and
high mountain, and showed me that great city, the holy
Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, having the
glory of God : and her light was like unto a stone most
precious, even like a jasper-stone, clear as crystal. And
Ihe building of the wall of it was of jasper : and the city
was pure gold, like unto clear glass. And tlie founda
tions of the wall of the city were garnished with all man
ner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper ;
the second sapphire ; the third a chalcedony ; the fourth
an emerald ; the fifth, sardonyx ; the sixth, sardius ; the
seventh, chrysolite ; the eighth, beryl ; the ninth, a topaz ;
the tenth, a chrysoprasus ; the eleventh, a jacinth ; the
twelfth, an amethyst. And the twelve gates were twelve
pearls ; every several gate was of one pearl ; and the street
of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass.
And I saw no temple therein : for the Lord God Almighty
and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no
need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it : for
the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light
thereof." Heaven is here represented by a city whose
very walls were made of precious stones. And the found
ations were also all precious stones, and the gates were
each a single pearl, and the very streets of the city were
of pure gold ; and yet it was something so excellent, as it
appeared to John, that his comparing it to pure gold did
not represent the excellency of it ; it had also the beauti
ful transparency of clear glass. The apostle could find
nothing on earth excellent enough adequately to represent
its surpassing beauty. " The streets of the city were pure
gold, like unto clear glass." He goes on with the destruc
tion in the beginning of the next chapter. Rev. xxii. 1,
2 — 5. " And he showed me a pure river of water of life,
clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and
of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on
either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which
bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every
month : and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of
the nations. — And there shall be no night there ; and they
need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord
God giveth them light : and they shall reign for ever and
ever." This glorious place shall be the residence of the
saints for ever. They shall dwell in this house of God, as
the king's children dwell with him in their father's house ;
they shall dwell in this house, for it is Christ's house. He
is the heir and owner of it, because he is the only-begotten
Son of God ; and the church shall dwell in it with Christ,
because she is " the Lamb's wife." God has made heaven
to be his own peculiar dwelling-place, and the dwelling-
place of his children ; when he made the world, he made
heaven for them, and therefore Christ says to them at the
close of their trial, Matt. xxv. 34. " Come, ye blessed of
my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world."
2. The glory of the bodies of the saints ; but this need
not be insisted on here ; as I have considered it already,
when speaking of the resurrection. I would only observe,
that however great the glory of the place is, the glory of
their bodies will doubtless be far greater; for the place is
made to be a dwelling-place for their glorious bodies, and
the inhabitants will doubtless be more glorious than the
habitation that is made for them ; as the end is of greater
value than the means. However bright heaven itself shall

898

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

shine, tlie bodies of the saints themselves will shine far
brighter, and appear far more beautiful.
3. The glory and beauty which God will put upon their
souls, will as far exceed the beauty of their bodies, as the
beauty of their bodies will far exceed the beauty of the
place. Here will be their principal ornament, and if their
bodies shall shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their
Father, how bright will their souls shine in the glorious
image of God, made perfect in them ! When they shall
be presented to Christ, perfectly free from sin, without
spot or wrinkle, or any such thing ; when they shall an-
pear holy and without blemish; their bodies shall not
only be made like to Christ's glorious body, but their
souls like to his holy and glorified soul. They shall then
shine with the glory of Christ reflected from them, without
any thing to obscure the bright image. Their souls shall
be made glorious in wisdom and knowledge ; their facul
ties shall be exceedingly strengthened and enlarged, their
eyes made perfectly clear, and divine light shall fill tbe
soul, so that there shall be no darkness within, and per
fect love shall reign in the heart. Divine love shall be
strong ; all the soul shall be as it were love. This love
shall be exceedingly great in the principle of it, and shall
always be in its highest exercise. Then shall humility also
be brought to perfection. None can now express or con
ceive how pure and holy will be the disposition of the soul
of a glorified saint, which shall be, as it were, all love, all
sweetness, all humility. The ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit is said to be in the sight of God of great price,
in this world ; but how precious will such spiritual orna
ments be in heaven, when they shall be thus perfected !
The souls of the saints are God's jewels ; and how bright
will God make those his jewels shine in heaven, when he
has polished them and fitted them to be gems in his own
crown of glory ! The soul of man, being spiritual and
rational, is susceptible of incomparably greater beauty
than the body, because the soul is capable of receiving
the image of God, of which the body is not ; and the souls
of the saints, when God has perfected them, shall appear
as the very image of God himself; and in the graces in
which they shall shine shall be seen the glory of the
divine workmanship in its perfection. And so lovely will
they be, that there will be more loveliness and beauty in
the soul of one saint than in all the glory and beauty of
the place put together.
4. They shall have great delight in the society and en
joyment of one another. We now do not know what
enjoyment they will have in conversing together, and in
communicating with each other ; but doubtless it will be
far more perfect than any we have now. The saints in
heaven shall all be one society, they shall be united to
gether without any schism, there shall be a sweet harmony,
and a perfect union. There the saints shall see and con
verse with Noah, and Abraham, and Moses, and David,
and Isaiah, and Paul, and all the holy martyrs ; and they
shall freely converse with them. It will be a most blessed
society ; there shall be no jars or contentions, nor break-"
ing out among them ; no manner of strife, nor envy, nor
jealousy ; no ill will, but perfect peace and perfect love
through the whole society. Each one shall love every
other with a most endeared and strong affection. Each
one will be perfectly excellent and lovely, and will appear
so in every other's eyes : they will be delighted exceed
ingly in that lovely and perfect image of God, which each
one shall see in every other ; they shall manifest tlieir love
to each other in the most becoming and amiable manner,
without any thing ever to disturb or interrupt tbe peace of
that blessed society. There shall be no mixture of wicked
men among them as it is here in this world, to defile or dis
honour their company. Here the visible churches of
Christ are often defiled and dishonoured by one wicked
man or other, but that church above shall always be per
fectly pure. Rev. xxi. 27. " And there shall in no wise
enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatever work
eth abomination, or maketh a lie ; but they which are
written in the Lamb's book of life." This blessed family
being all united in one body, as having many members,
shall all subserve and contribute to each other's happiness,
as the members of a body that is in perfect health. They
shall delight to assist each other in their contemplations,

communicating their glorious contemplations one to
another. How sweetly will they converse together of the
glories of God and Christ, and of God's glorious works of
power, and wisdom, and mercy ! and how will they con
vey the bright conceptions and the raptures of joy from one
soul to another, imparting to each other the sweet commu
nications which they themselves receive from the glorious
King of heaven ! and how will they help one another in
their praises to God and Christ, each one bearing his part
in the heavenly melody, extolling the Most High 1 And
what a glorious harmony of celestial voices without num
ber will that be, when the whole assembly of the upper
world shall together lift up the praises of God on high !
John had this represented to him at a great distance, and
tells us, Rev. xiv. 2. " I heard a voice from heaven, as
the voice of many waters, and as the voice of a great
thunder ; and I. heard the voice of harpers, harping with
their harps :" so ardent were they, and so great a multi
tude. And how will they rejoice in their numbers, to see
so great a multitude all united, all perfectly holy, all full
of mutual love, all fellow-citizens, ail brethren !
Here a question may arise, whether the saints, when
they go to heaven, have any peculiar comfort in meeting
with those who bave been their pious friends on earth ? I
answer in the affirmative, and I think it is evident from 1
Thess. iv. 1 3 — 18. " But I would not have you to be ignorant,
brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow
not, even as others which have no hope. For if we be
lieve that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also
which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For
this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we
which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord
shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord
himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the
voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God : and
the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are
alive and remain shall be caught up together with them
in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air : and so shall
we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another
with these words." Here it is evident,
1 . That what the apostle mentions, as a matter of com
fort to Christians respecting their departed christian friends,
is that they shall meet them, and see them again. It is
not only that their departed friends, though dead, are happy,
but they shall see them,and be with them again. This is here
plainly asserted. Mourn not for them, says the apostle,
as those that have no hope ; for when Christ comes, God
shall bring them again, and we which are alive shall be
caught up with them ; and so shall we be ever with the
Lord together. Wherefore comfort one another with these
words. The apostle therefore must be understood to
mean, that they should comfort one another when mourners,
with the consideration that they should hereafter be with
their departed friends again in a glorious and happy state,
and never part more.
2. That there will be something else that will give
comfort in meeting them in a future state, than in seeing
other saints ; otherwise why did the apostle mention it for
their comfort, that they should see them again rather than
other saints whom they had not seen or heard of? The
apostle's speaking thus to the Thessalonians might give
them just ground to expect, that the peculiarly strong af
fection which they had cherished for their departed friends,
which was crossed by their departure, would be again
gratified by meeting them again ; for this crossing of that
affection was the ground of their mourning. If the Thes
salonians knew, that to see their friends again in another
world would be no gratification to the affection which they
had for them as their friends, and did no way think or
conceive of it as such ; then to think of seeing them
would be no more comfort to them or remedy to their sor
row, than to think that they should see any other saint that
lived or died in another country, or in a past age; and
that, because it would be no remedy to the ground and
foundation of their mouming, viz. the crossing their affec
tion to them as their friends ; and if it would be no
remedy to their mourning, to think thus respecting it, it
never would have been mentioned to them by the apostle
as a ground of comfort, or reason why they need not
mourn. That was what they mourned for viz. that they

SERMON VIII.

399

should not have their affections towards them satisfied by
seeing them, and conversing with them again. That for
which the heathen here spoken of, that have no hope,
mourned excessively, was that they should never more
have that affection gratified again. Hence it follows that
the special affection, which the saints have in this world
to other saints who are their friends, will in some respects
remain in another world. There is no reason why we
should suppose that saints that have dwelt together in this
world, and have showed kindness to each other, have been
affectionate to each other's true happiness, should not love
one another with a love of gratitude for it in another
world. There is no reason why good ministers whom
God had made the instruments of salvation to others,
should not have special joy in meeting their converts in
heaven. 2 Cor. i. 14 "As also ye have acknowledged
us in part that we are your rejoicing, even as ye also are
ours, in the day of the Lord Jesus." 1 Thess. ii. 19,
20. " For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoic
ing ? are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus
Christ at his coming ? For ye are our glory and joy." I
see no reason why those that love one another with a
virtuous love, and from such a love have shown kindness
one to another, should not love one another the better for
it in another world. There is no reason to think, that the
friendship contracted here on earth between saints will be
rooted out in another world. All natural affections, so far
as founded in animal nature or the infirmity of the present
state, will cease in another world ; and with respect to any
affection that the godly have had to the finally reprobate,
the love of God will wholly swallow it up, and cause it
wholly to cease. But I see nothing that argues that one
saint in glorv may not have a special respect to another,
because God made use of that other as an instrument to
bring him into being, and thus made him the remote occa
sion of his happiness ; or that, when pious parents lose
pious children, they may not comfort themselves with the
thought that they shall go to them, as probably David did
when he said concerning his child, 2 Sam. xii. 23. " But
now he is dead, wherefore should I fast ? can I bring him
back again ? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to
me :" or that even a former acquaintance with persons and
their virtues may not occasion a particular respect in an
other world. They may go to heaven with a desire to see
them upon that very account. The impressions which they
have of their amiable qualifications in consequence of their
acquaintance with them here, may yet remain in another
world. 5. The saints in heaven shall see and converse with
Christ. They shail see Christ in a twofold sense.
1 . They shall see him, as appearing in his glorified human
nature, with their bodily eyes ; and this will be a most
glorious sight. The loveliness of Christ as thus appearing
will be a most ravishing thing to them ; for though the
bodies of the saints shall appear with an exceeding beauty
and glory, yet the body of Christ will without doubt im
mensely surpass them, as much as the brightness of the
sun does that of the stars. The glorified body of Christ
will be the masterpiece of all God's workmanship in the
whole material universe. There shall be in his glorious
countenance tbe manifestations of his glorious spiritual
perfections, his majesty, his holiness, his surpassing grace,
and love, and meekness. Tlie eye will never be wearied
with beholding this glorious sight. When Christ was
transfigured in tbe mount, Peter was for making three
tabernacles, that Christ, and Moses, and Elijah might re
main there, and that the heavenly vision might never come
toan end.
Job had respect to this sight of Christ, and comforted
himself with the thoughts of it, when he said, " For I
know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at
the latter day upon the earth : and though after my skin
worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God :
whom I shall see for myself, and "mine eyes shall behold,
and not another ; thoug"h my reins be consumed within
me." This will be the most glorious object that the saints
will ever see with their bodily eyes ; and there will be far
more happiness redounding to the beholders from this sight
than from anv other ; yea, the eyes of the glorified body
will be giwen "chiefly that the saints may behold this sight.
3 m 2

2. They shall see him with the eye of the soul. It is
said, " They shall see him as he is." 1 John iii. 2. " And
they shall know even as they are known." 1 Cor. xiii. 2.
They shall have a clear understanding of Christ as Medi
ator, how he has undertaken from all eternity to accom
plish their salvation. They shall understand the glorious
covenant of redemption between the Father and the Son ;
shall see the eternal love Christ had to them before the
foundation of the world. They shall in all probability
understand the mystery of his incarnation. They shall
know and understand the gloriousness of the way of sal
vation by Christ, " which things the angels desire to look
into ;" they shall have a full understanding of the infinite
wisdom of God in contriving the plan of salvation ; shall
comprehend the height, and depth, and length, and breadth
of tbe love of Christ to sinners, in undergoing for them
the agony of the garden, and the more overwhelming
agonies of the cross. Now the heart is dull in the con
templation of such things. How often are they heard of
by tne saints on earth with but little affection ! How often,
when they see them set forth in'the Lord's supper, are they
cold and lifeless ! But then it shall not be so ; then the
wonderful works of God, and the love of Christ in the
work of redemption, will appear as they are : then there
will constantly without any interruption be a most lively
and full sense of it, without any deadness or coldness ;
every thing in the work of redemption will appear in its
true glory, the understanding shall be wonderfully opened,
and it shall be perpetually like the clear hemisphere with
the sun in the meridian, and there shall never come over
one cloud to darken the mind. And then the saints shall
see fully how the excellence and loveliness of Christ
appear in all that he did and suffered : they shall see the
loveliness of those excellencies that appeared in Christ's
human nature when on earth; his wonderful meekness
and humility, his patience under suffering, his perfect
obedience to the Father. And then shall they also see the
beauty that appears in Christ's human nature in its glori
fied state, wherein the excellencies of it shine without a veil.
They sball also see the excellence of the divine nature ot
Christ; they shall behold clearly and immediately his
divine majesty, and his divine and infinite holiness, and
grace, and love. They shall see Christ as the perfect image
of God, an image wherein all the glory of the divine nature
is fully expressed ; they shall behold bim as the brightness
of his Father's glory ; and they shall see that bright and
perfect image of God which the Father beheld, and was
infinitely happy in beholding, from all eternity. But this
sight of the glory of Christ in his divine nature belongs to
tbat beatific vision, of which I would speak more particu
larly hereafter.
2. They shall not only see this glorious person, as at a
distance, but they shall be admitted to be near him, and to
converse with him. This sight of his glory and loveliness
will fill them with the most exalted love, which love will
cause them to desire conversation ; and they shall be ad
mitted to it, to the full of their desires, and that at all
times. Two things may be observed concerning this con
verse with Christ, to which the saints shall be admitted in
heaven. 1. It shall be most free and intimate. There shall be
nothing to forbid them or deter them. Though Christ is so
glorious a person, in so exalted a state in heaven, being
Lord of heaven and earth, yet he will treat them as brethren,
and they sball converse with him as friends. He will also
honour 'them and advance them to the dignity of kings,
that tbey may be fit to converse with so glorious a King.
Rev. i. 6. " And hath made us kings and priests unto God
and his Father ; to him be glory and dominion for ever
and ever, Amen." Christ, when' on earth, treated his dis
ciples with great familiarity and freedom, he treated them
as friends. John xv. 15. " I call you not servants ; for the
servant knoweth not what his lord doeth : but I call you
friends ; for all things that I have heard of my Father I
have made known unto you." So in heaven he will not
keep them at a greater distance, but admit them nearer;
because thev shall be fitted to be nearer to him and to con
verse more 'intimately with him. O how happy will it
render them to have so great and honourable a person
treating them with such grace and condescension !

900 Though they shall see the awful majesty of Christ, that
will not make them afraid, because they will see his love,
and grace, and condescension, equal to bis majesty.
2. This converse shall be most full and satisfying. This
is evident from that most emphatic expression ofthe church
being " the bride, the Lamb's wife.' He will open the
infinite and eternal fountain of his love to them, and will
Eour forth that fountain into their hearts. This love will
e as a pure river of water of life, a river of pleasures,
constantly flowing into the souls of the saints, that shall
be in them as rivers of living water. And they shall also
in their converse with Christ manifest their love to him :
their hearts shall flow out in an unceasing stream, or ascend
continually in a rapturous transport of love. Of those
things we can say but little now ; yet sometimes when God
helps us we can conceive of them a little, but it is but a
little at the most.
6. The saints in heaven shall see God. They shall not
only see that glorious city, and the saints there, and the
holy angels, and the glorified body of Christ; but they
shall see God himself. This is promised to the saints.
Matt. v. 8. " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall
see God." 1 Cor. xiii. 12. " For now we see through a
glass darkly ; but then face to face : now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known." This
is that which is called by divines, " the beatific vision,"
because this is that in which the blessedness of the saints
in glory does chiefly consist. This is the fountain, the
infinite fountain of their blessedness. The sight of Christ,
which has already been spoken of, is not here to be ex
cluded, for he is a divine person ; the sight of him in his
divine nature therefore belongs to the beatifical vision.
This vision of God is the chief bliss of heaven, and there
fore I would speak of it a little more particularly. And,
1. As to the faculty that is the subject of this vision.
It is no sight of any thing with the bodily eyes ; but it is
an intellectual view. The beatific vision of God is not a
sight with the eyes of the body, but with the eyes of the
soul. There is no such thing as seeing God properly with
the bodily eyes, because he is a spirit : one of his attri
butes is, that he is invisible. 1 Tim. i. 17. " Now unto
the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God,
be honour and glory for ever and ever." Colos. i. 15.
" Who is the image of the invisible God, the first-born of
every creature.'' Heb. xi. 27. " By faith he forsook
Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king ; for he endured,
as seeing him who is invisible." This highest blessedness
of the soul does not enter in at the door of the bodily
senses ; this would be to make the blessedness of the soul
dependent on the body, or the happiness of man's superior
part to be dependent on the inferior. The beatific vision
of God is not any sight with the bodily eyes, because the
separate souls of the saints, and the angels which are mere
spirits, and never were united to body, have this vision.
Matt, xviii. 10. " Take heed that ye despise not one of
these little ones : for I say unto you, that in heaven their
angels do always behold the face of my Father which is
in heaven." It is not in beholding any form or visible re
presentation, or shape, or colour, or shining light, in which
the highest happiness of the soul consists ; but it is in
seeing God, wbo is a spirit, spiritually, with the eyes of
the soul. We have no reason to think that there is any
such thing as God's manifesting himself by any outward
glorious appearance, that is, the symbol of his presence in
heaven, any otherwise than by the glorified body of Christ.
God was wont in the Old Testament, oftentimes to mani
fest himself by an outward glory, and sometimes in an out
ward shape, or the form of a man. But when God mani
fested himself thus, it was by Christ; it was the second
person of the Trinity only that was wont thus to appear
to men in an outward glory and human shape. John i.
18. " No man hath seen God at any time; the only-be
gotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath
declared him." But since Christ has actually assumed a
human body, there is no need of his assuming any aerial
form or shape any more. The Deity now became visible
to the bodily eyes in a more perfect manner by his having
a real body. The saints that shall see Christ in heaven in
his glorified body, much more properly see Christ than if
they only saw an assumed shape, or some outward glo-

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

rious appearance, as the symbol of his presence; for now,
tbat which they see is not only a glorious appearance by
which Christ is represented, but tbe real Chnst; it is his
own body. The seeing God in the glorified body of
Christ, is' the most perfect way of seeing God with the
bodily eves that can be ; for in seeing a real body, which
one of the persons of ihe Trinity has assumed to be his
body, and in which he dwells for ever as his own, the di
vine majesty and excellency appear as much as it is pos
sible for tbem to appear in outward form or shape. The
saints do actually see a divine person with bodily eyes,
and in the same manner as we see. one another. But
when God showed himself under outward appearances
and symbols of his presence only, that was not so proper
a sight of a divine person, and it was a more imperfect
way of God's manifesting himself, suitably to the more
imperfect state of the church under the Old Testament.
But now Christ really subsists in a glorified body ; those
outward symbols and appearances are done away, as being
needless and imperfect. This more imperfect way therefore
is altogether needless, seeing Christ there appears as a
glorified body.
This seems, to be one end of God's assuming a human
body, viz. that the saints might see God with bodily eyes;
that they may see him, not only in the understanding, but in
every way of seeing of which the human nature is capable;
that we might see God as a divine person as we see one
another. And there is no need of God the Father's mani
festing himself in any other glorious form ; for he that
sees the Son, sees the Father, John xiv. 9. and that be
cause he is the image of the invisible God. Coloss. i. 15.
— Heb. i. 3. " Who being the brightness of his glory, and
the express image of his person, and upholding all things
by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged
our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on
high." But if there be any outward symbol by which
God the Father represents himself in heaven ; seeing that
is not the beatific vision, for that is a far more imperfect
way of seeing God than seeing him with the eye of the
soiil ; the soul is capable of apprehending God in a thou
sand limes more perfect and glorious manner than the eye
of the body is ; the soul has in itself those powers where
by it is sufficiently capable of apprehending spiritual ob
jects without looking through the windows of the outward
senses. The soul is capable of seeing God more imme
diately, and more certainly, and more fully and gloriously,
than the eye ofthe body is.
2. The act of vision. And,
1. It will bean immediate sight, it will be no appre
hension of God's excellency by acquiring it from his
works ; neither will it be such a spiritual sight of God as
the saints have in this world, seeing him in his word and
making use of his ordinances, which is called seeing
" through a glass darkly." Then they shall see him " face
to face."- 1 Cor. xiii. 12. They shall not only see the
glory of God as reflected from other things, but they shall
see him as we see the sun, by his own light in a clear he
misphere. It will be an intuitive view of God. What
knowledge the saints have of God in this world is like the
twilight before sun-rising ; it is not the direct light of the
sun, but the light of the sun reflected, and it is compara
tively a dim light ; but hereafter the saints shall enjoy the
perfect day, they shall see God as we im mediately behold
the sun after it is risen above the horizon, and no cloud or
vapour in the heavens to hinder its sight.
2. It shall be, according to men's capacity, a perfect
sight. It shall not be a perfectly comprehensive sight, be
cause it is impossible that a saint's mind should compre
hend God ; but yet it shall be perfect in its kind, it shall
be perfectly certain, without any doubt or possibility of
doubt. There shall be a view of God in his being, and
in his power, and wisdom, and holiness, and goodness,
and love, and all-sufficiency, that shall be attended with
intuitive certainty, without any mixture of unbelief, and
with much greater certainty than any sight with the bodily
eye. And then it shall be perfectly clear without any
view of darkness. Now, how much darkness is there
mingled with that spiritual sight, which the saints have of
God's glory in this world! But then, there shall be no
obscurity, nothing to cloud the understanding, or to hinde,-

SERMON VIII.

901

the clearness of the view. God shall be hid with no veil,
neither shall there be any veil in the heavens. And this
sight shall be most enlarged ; they shall see vastly more
of the glory of God than any of the saints do in this world ;
the souls of the saints shall be like the angels in exten-
siveness of understanding.
3. The object of this vision : concerning which I ob
serve, 1. They shall see every thing in God that tends to ex
cite and inflame love, i. e. every thing that is lovely, every
thing that tends to exalt their esteem and admiration, to
warm and endear the heart. They shall behold the infinite
excellency and glory of God, shall have a blessed-making
sight of his glorious majesty and of his infinite holiness;
shall see as those angels do, of whom we read in Isa. vi.
3. " That, standing before the throne, they cry, Holy, holy,
holy is the Lord of hosts," and shall behold the infinite
grace and goodness of God. Then shall that glorious
fountain and ocean be opened fully to their view ; then
shall they behold all its excellency and loveliness, they
shall have a clear sight of his immense glory and excel
lency. 2." They shall see every thing in God that gratifies love.
They shall see in him all that love desires. Love desires
the iove of the beloved. So the saints in glory shall see
God's transcendent love to them ; God will make ineffable
manifestations of his love to them. They shall see as
much love in God towards them as they desire ; they
neither will nor can crave any more. This very manifesta
tion that God will make of himself that will cause the
beatific vision, will be an act of love in God : it will be
from the exceeding love of God to them that he will give
them this vision, which will add an immense sweetness to
it. When they see God so glorious, and at the same time
see how greatly this God lovesthem, what delight will it
not cause in the soul ! Love desires union. They shall
therefore see this glorious God united to them, and see
themselves united to him. They shall see that he is their
Father, and that they are his children. They shall see
God gloriously present with them ; God with them ; and
God in them; and they in God. Love desires the pos
session of its object. Therefore they shall see God, even
their own God ; when they behold tbis transcendent glory
of God, they shall see him as their own. When they shall
see that glory, power, and wisdom of God, they shall see it
as altogether" engaged for them; when they shall see the
beauty of God's holiness, they shall see it as their own,
for them to enjoy for ever; when they see the boundless
ocean of Gods goodness and grace, they shall see it to be
all theirs.
4. The manner in which they shall see and enjoy God ;
and that is as having communion with Christ therein. The
saints shall enjoy God, as partaking with Christ of his
enjoyment of God ; for they are united to him, and are
glorified and made happy in the enjoyment of God as his
members. As the members of the body partake of the life
and health of the head, so the saints in glory shall be happy
as partaking of the blessedness of the Son of God ; they
being in Christ, shall partake of the love of God the Father
to Christ. And as the Son knows the Father, so they
shall partake with him in bis sight of God, as being as it
were parts of him. As he is in the bosom of the Father,
so are they in the bosom of the Father; as he has im
mense joy in the love of the Father, so have they, every
one of them in their measure, the same joy in the Father's
love. Herein they shall enjoy God in a more exalted and ex
cellent manner than man "would have done if he had never
fallen; for doubtless that happiness, that Christ himself
partakes of in his Father's bosom, is transcendently sweet
and excellent ; and how happy therefore are they who are
admitted to partake of that portion of delight with him !
5. The agent by whom this vision of God shall be com
municated; viz. the Holv Spirit. As it is by the Holy
Spirit that a spiritual sight of God is given in this world,
so it is the same Holy Spirit by whom the beatific vision
is given of God in heaven. The saints in heaven are as
dependent on God for all their happiness, and all their
hbliness, and all their. light, as those on earth; there al is
from God by his Holy Spirit, just as it is here. They shall

have the beatific vision of God because they will be full
of God, filled with the Holy Spirit of God. The Holy
Ghost is the pure river of water of life that proceeds from
the throne of God and the Lamb, spoken of in Rev. xxii. 1 .
6. The effects of this vision. And these are, that the
soul shall be inflamed with love, and satisfied with plea
sure. 1. It shall be inflamed with love. The soul shall not
be an inactive spectator, but shall be most active, and in
the most ardent exercise of love towards the object seen
The soul shall be as it were all eyes to behold, aiid yet all
act to love. The soul shall be as full of love as it shall be
of light, and of both it shall be as full as it can hold. The
understanding will be in its most perfect act in beholding,
and the will will be in its most perfect act in loving. This
love will be perfectly such as it ought to be. It shall be
perfectly humble, the soul shall be in its place at all times,
adoring at God's feet, and yet embraced in the arms of his
love. This love shall excite them to praise. And there
fore, singing praises and hallelujahs shall be that in which
they shall unweariedly be employed.
2. This sight of God shall satisfy the soul with pleasure.
So great will the joy be that the soul will desire no greater.
It shall be as full of grace, as the large desires ofthe soul
can receive. So sweet shall it be, that the soul will desire
nothing sweeter. So pure and excellent will it be, that the
soul will desire nothing better. Ps.xvii. 15. " As for me,
I shall behold thy face in righteousness : I shall be satis
fied, when I awake, with thy likeness." When the soul
beholds the glory and love of God, it shall be at the same
time filled with the glory and love of God ; it shall receive
satisfying pleasure, for it shall receive God. God will
communicate, and as it were pour forth, himself into the
soul. And with what inexpressible sweetness and com
placency will the soul open itself to be thus filled, as the
flowers open before the sun to be filled with his light and
pleasant influences !
Having thus considered wherein the eternal happiness
of the saints consists, I proceed next to consider some cir
cumstances of it.
1. It will add sweetness to the happiness of heaven, that
it is all the fruit of free grace, and the dying love of Christ.
The saints in this world are of that spirit that they choose
the way of salvation by free and sovereign grace; and
salvation in this way seems better and sweeter by far, than
if they could have it by their own works. Much more
will this exceedingly heighten the sweetness of their hap
piness when they are in heaven, when their love, and their
humility, will be perfect, when they will be abundantly
more sensible than they are now, what vile creatures they
were in this world ; and when they consider to what ex
ceeding glory God has advanced them, what a sweet ad
miration will it excite in them of the free and boundless
grace of God ! And what a sweetness will it add, that all
this glorious blessedness which they possess, is not of
themselves, but is the fruit of the love of that glorious
person whom they shall then see in his glory, the fruit of
his dying love, that it was bought by his own precious
blood ! It adds greatly to the value of a gift, if we receive
it from a dear friend as a token of his love ; but how
greatly then will heaven be the more prized by the saints,
when they consider it as the fruit of his love who is so
glorious and excellent, and who is so exceedingly beloved
by tbem !
2. It will give them the greater sense of their own bless
edness, when they contemplate the misery of those who
are finally lost, and consider how exceedingly different is
their own state. The saints will witness the misery of the
wicked, they shall see their state at the day of judgment,
they shall see them at the left hand with devils, shall hear
the sentence pronounced, and see it executed. This shall
greatly heighten the sense of their own happy state, when
tbey consider how different their own state is, how differ
ently God has dealt with themselves from what he has
done with the wicked ; when they see how dreadful the
misery is from which thev are delivered, and which they
must have unavoidably suffered, had not God graciously
redeemed them ; when they consider that they deserved
this misery as well as those that suffer it, but that Christ
has of his free grace redeemed them. This will give ex-

902

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

alted thoughts of the free grace of God, and cause them
exceedingly to admire it, and will greatly heighten their
exercises of love to him who has been so gracious to them,
and consequently will heighten their joy in his love. As
the damned when they contemplate the happiness of the
saints in heaven will find their own misery aggravated, so
the saints in heaven when they contemplate the misery of
the damned in hell, will feel a greater sense of their own
happiness. 3. There are different degrees of happiness and glory in
heaven. As there are degrees among the angels, viz.
thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers ; so there
are degrees among the saints. In heaven are many man
sions, and of different degrees of dignity. The glory of
the saints above will be in some proportion to their emi-
nency in holiness and good works here. Christ will reward
all according to their works. He that gained ten pounds
was made ruler over ten cities, and he that gained five
pounds over five cities. Luke xix. 17. 2 Cor. ix. 6. " He
that soweth sparingly, shall reap sparingly ; and he that
soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully." And the
apostle Paul tells us that, as one star differs from another
star in glory, so also it shall be in the resurrection of the
dead. 1 Cor. xv. 41. Christ tells us that he who gives a
cup of cold water unto a disciple in the name of a disciple,
shall in no wise lose his reward. But this could not be
true, if a person should have no greater reward for doing
many good works than if he did but few. It will be no
damp to the happiness of those who have lower degrees of
happiness and glory, that there are others advanced in
glory above them : for all shall be perfectly happy, every
one shall be perfectly satisfied. Every vessel that is cast
into this ocean of happiness is full, though there are some
vessels far larger than others ; and there shall be no such
thing as envy in heaven, but perfect love shall reign
through the whole society. Those who are not so high in
glory as others, will not envy those that are higher, but
they will have so great, and strong, and pure love to them,
that they will rejoice in their superior happiness ; their
love to them will be such that they will rejoice that they
are happier than themselves ; so that instead of having a
damp to their own happiness, it will add to it. They will
see it to be fit that they that have been most eminent in
works of righteousness should be most highly exalted in
glory ; and they will rejoice in having that done, that is
fittest to be done. There will be a perfect harmony in
that society ; those that are most happy will also be most
holy, and all will be both perfectly holy and perfectly
happy. But yet there will be different degrees of both
holiness and happiness according to the measure of each
one's capacity, and therefore those that are lowest in glory
will have the greatest love to those that are highest in
happiness, because they will see most of the image of God
in them; and having the greatest love to them, they will
rejoice to see them the most happy and the highest in
glory. And so, on the other hand, those that are highest
in glory, as they will be the most lovely, so they will be
fullest of love : as they will excel in happiness, they will
proportionally excel in divine benevolence and love to
others, and will have more love to God and to the saints
than those that are lower in holiness and happiness. And
besides, those that will excel in glory will also -excel in
humility. Here in this world, those that are above others
are the objects of envy, because that others conceive of
them as being lifted up with it ; but in heaven it will not
be so, but those saints in heaven who excel in happiness
will also in holiness, and consequently in humility. The
saints in heaven are more humble than the saints on eartb,
and still the higher we go among them the greater humi
lity there is ; the highest orders of saints, who know most
of God, see most of the distinction between God and tbem,
and consequently are comparatively least in their own
eyes, and so are most humble. The exaltation of some in
heaven above the rest will be so far from diminishing tbe
perfect happiness and joy of the rest who are inferior, that
they will be the happier for it ; such will be the union in
their society that they will be partakers of each other's
happiness. . Then will be fulfilled in its perfection that
which is declared in 1 Cor. xii. 22. " If one ofthe mem
bers be honoured all the members rejoice with it."

This happiness of the saints shall never have any inter
ruption. There will never be any alloy to it ; there never
will come any cloud to obscure their light ; there never
wifl be any thing to cool their love. The rivers of plea
sure will not fail, the glory and love of God and of Christ
will for ever be the same, and the manifestation of it will
have no interruption. No sin or corruption shall ever
enter there, no temptation to disturb their blessedness :
the divine love in the saints shall never cool, there shall
be no inconsistency in any of them, the faculties of the
saints shall never flag from exercise ; and they will never
be cloyed, their relish for those delights will for ever be
kept up to its height, that glorious society shall not grow
weary of their hallelujahs. Their exercises, though they
are so active and vigorous, will be performed with perfect
ease ; the saints shall not be weary of loving, and praising,
and fearing, as the sun is never weary of shining.
5. And to sum up this whole description, there shall
never be any end to their glory and blessedness. There
fore is it so often called eternal life, and everlasting life.
We are told that at the day of judgment, when the wicked
shall go away into everlasting punishment, the righteous
shall enter into life eternal. Matt. xxv. 46. The pleasures
which there are at God's right hand, are said to be for
evermore; Psal. xvi. 11. And that this is not merely a
long duration, but an absolute eternity, is evident from that
which Christ has said, that those who believe on him shall
not die. John vi. 50. Rev. xxii. 5. In tbe description of
the new Jerusalem it is said, " And they sball reign for
ever and ever." The eternity of this blessedness shall
crown all. If the saints knew that there would be an end
to their happiness, though at never so great a distance, yet
it would be a great damp to their joy. The greater the
happiness is, so much the more uncomfortable would the
thoughts of an end be, and so much the more joyful will
it be to think that there will be no end. The saints will
surely know that there will be no more danger of their
happiness coming to an end, than there will be that the
being of God will come to an end. As God is eternal, so
their happiness is eternal ; as long as the fountain lasts,
they need not fear but they shall be supplied.

APPLICATION.
1. Hence we leam how great a mercy conversion is, be
cause it confers upon him who is exposed to eternal mi
sery a right to all this blessedness. Man, as he is naturally,
is very far from this blessedness ; we came into the world
wretched, miserable, undone creatures, in cruel bondage
to sin and Satan, under guilt and under wrath, and at en
mity against God, the fountain of blessedness, and in a
state of condemnation to everlasting destruction. But
when a man is converted there is a great change made in
his state ; he is that day passed from death to life, he is
brought out of that state of woe and misery into a sure
title to glory, honour, and peace for ever. W'hen once a
man is converted all this blessedness that we have heard
of is his, he has an absolute right to it, God's word is
passed for it, his faithful promise is given. Heaven and
earth shall pass away, but that promise of God shall not
fail, but shall be fulfilled : their witness is in heaven, and
their record on high. On that day in which a man is
converted he enters into a blessed state, he is sure to be a
blessed person as long as he lives ; and he has a right to
all that blessedness we have heard of, at death, and in a
state of separation, and at the day of judgment, and to
that glory which tbe saints have in their state of consum
mate glory and blessedness. This teaches how great and
how blessed a change conversion is in its consequences,
and what cause have they who have good ground to think
that they have been the subjects of it, to bless, and praise,
and extol the name of God, when they consider what a
situation they were once in, and what a happy state they
are now in ; for the bringing them out of that miserable
state into so glorious a state is owing only to free and so
vereign grace. 1 Cor. iv. 7. " Who maketh thee to differ
from another ? and what hast thou that thou didst not re
ceive ? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory
as if thou hadst not received it ?"

SERMON VIII.

903

2. Hence we may learn the folly of those that are cold
and slack in seeking salvation, seeing that the glory and
happiness of those who are saved is so exceedingly great.
flow unreasonable is it to expect to obtain that which is
so great without effort 1 Men will seek worldly riches
and honours that are worth so little, and cannot make them
happy, and will soon vanish away, with great and indefa
tigable labour and diligence ; and shall men expect to ob
tain such eternal glory and blessedness in a slack and
cold way of seeking it ? How unlike the nature and im
portance of this blessedness do men treat it that seek it in
a cold and careless manner ! and can it be expected that
God will also treat it so unlike its value, as to bestow it
upon such seekers ?
3. Hence we may solve the difficulty of some Chris
tians meeting with so much affliction and darkness in the
world. Some godly persons are the subjects of very great
outward afflictions, and some are the subjects of great spi
ritual darkness ; some ' truly godly persons spend great
part of their lives in the dark, in exercising doubts, and
anxious thoughts, and distressing fears. And oftentimes
God's people make this an argument against themselves.
They argue that if God loved them, and, had made them
his children, he would never leave them in such darkness
and distress, he would give them more of the light of his
countenance. They are ready to say with themselves, if
God loves me, why does he not give me more comfort,
why does he see me in such darkness, and does not com
fort me ? But what we have heard may solve all the dif
ficulty. If their happiness throughout all eternity be so
great, of how little consequence is it what may be their
condition for that short moment they continue in this
world ! What if they are in the dark, what if they walk in
darkness and are exercised with great trouble ! how little
difference will it make, though it be cast into the scales,
when weighed against that far more exceeding and eternal
weight of glory ! It will prove lighter than vanity. If
God gives eternal happiness to them, that is evident proof
of his love, and all the darkness and sorrow they can meet
with in this world are not worthy to be mentioned. All
this darkness, how long soever continued, if we compare it
with future glory, vanishes into nothing.
4. This subject furnishes solid ground of consolation to
the righteous. What can be matter of greater joy and com
fort to any person, than to consider that he is entitled to such
eternal blessedness ? Here is sufficient consolation under
all adversity ; whatever changes we meet with in the world,
this may be matter of abundant comfort under the greatest
and heaviest trials. In these things a Christian may well
rejoice, though the fig-tree should not blossom, and there
should be no fruit in the vine. Having this firm support
and consolation, a Christian will not fear though the earth
be removed, and the mountains be carried into the midst of
the sea.
Let these things, therefore, comfort thee, who fearest and
lovest God and trustest in Christ. What a glorious hope,
and incorruptible, and undefiled, and never-fading inherit
ance, are reserved in heaven for thee ! Hence I would an
swer an objection or two, that unbelief in the saint may be
ready to make against what has been said.
1. Some may be ready to say, this glory and blessed
ness are so great and wonderful that it seems too great to
be given to sucb creatures as men are ; it seems almost in
credible that God should so exalt and advance worms of
the dust.
Answer. The death and sufferings of Christ made every
thing credible that belongs to this blessedness. If God has
not thought his own Son too much for us, what will he
think too much for us? If God did not spare him, but
gave him even to be made a reproach, and a curse, and a
victim to death for us, no blessedness, however great, can be
incredible which is the fruit of this. Rom. viii. 32. " He
that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us
all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all
things?" If God would so contrive to show his love in
the manner and means of procuring our happiness, nothing
can be incredible in the degree ofthe happiness itself: if
nothing be too much to be given to man, and to be done
for man in the manner of procuring his happiness, nothing
will be too much to be given to him as the happiness pro

cured, and no degree of happiness too great for him to en
joy. If all that God does about it be consistent, his infi
nite wisdom will also work to make their- happiness and
glory great in the degree of it.
2. Some Christians may still be ready to object. It is
not too great to be bestowed on others, yet it seems to me
too great lo be bestowed on such an unworthy creature as
I ; it seems incredible that God should ever give such glory
lo such an one as I am, that am so mean, and so worth
less, and vile. I not only was once unworthy, but I am
so unworthy still, I am so blind, I have so much sin, and
so little goodness, I commit so much sin, and do so little
good, that it appears incredible that I should have a title to
such blessedness. I can far more easily think that others
will possess it than myself.
Answer. It is no way incredible that infinite grace should
bestow it on the meanest and unworthiest. God's design
is to glorify his free grace, and this is one way by which
free grace is glorified, viz. by bestowing such great bless
edness on the most unworthy. This js of a piece with the
rest. Every thing in the work of redemption is wonder
ful, and therefore one of the names by which Christ is call
ed, is Wonderful. As grace is wonderful in the means of
procurement, viz. giving Christ to die, and wonderful in
the degree of happiness procured ; so it is wonderful with
respect to the subjects of it, that they are in themselves so
mean and unworthy.
5. This subject furnishes ground of solemn exhortation
to natural men, earnestly lo seek this blessedness. And
here you may well consider,
1. How poor you are who have no heaven but this
world ! In this exceeding and eternal glory of which you
have heard, you have no lot or portion ; you have nothing
but a little part of this clod of earth ; and what is all that
you have worth ? If you have a little more land than some
of your neighbours, or if you are in a way to make more
money than others, if your accommodations are better than
others, and you have more worldly conveniences and plea
sures than others, or if you are promoted a little higher
among men than some others are, what a poor portion is
this ; and how miserable ale you who have no better hap
piness that you can call your own ! How happy do these
things make you, what great satisfaction do they yield to
you ! Are such things as these the rivers of pleasure that
you choose for your portion ? O, how miserable are you
that have your portion in this life ! When a few days are
passed you must go to the grave and into eternity, and
then your glory shall not descend after you ; and how
wretched are they of whom it may be said, when they have
done with worldly enjoyments, that they have received
their consolation ! Luke vi. 24.
2. To what misery are you exposed ! You not only have
no lot in this happiness and glory, but you are hanging
over endless misery, and are in danger every day of being
irrecoverably lost.
3. You have now an opportunity to obtain this blessed
ness. It is true that now you are exposed to this misery,
but yet this glory is offered to you ; the time is not past
wherein the offer 'is made ; you have yet an opportunity to
be made happy for ever. The opportunity you now have
to obtain the happiness of another world, is worth ten thou
sands of this world.
But here I would say something by way of direction in
answer lo this.
Inquiry. What must I be brought to in order to get to
heaven ?
Answer. 1. You must be brought entirely to renounce
all hope of obtaining heaven by any thing that you can do
by your own strength, — that you cannot do it either direct
ly or indirectly. Many are sensible that they cannot get to
heaven by their own strength directly, but yet they hope to
do it indirectly ; they hope by their own strength to bring
themselves to a disposition to close with Christ, and accept
of him for a Saviour; they are hoping to bring themselves
to a compliance with the terms of salvation. You must be
brought off from all confiding in your own strength ; and
you must also be brought to renounce your own righteous
ness as the price of heaven. The consideration of what has
been said of the glory and happiness of the saints, may
show us the exceeding folly of those that think to purchase

904

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

so great happiness by their own righteousness. What a
vain thought have men of their performances to think them
a sufficient price to offer to God to purchase such glory
of him ! How would God dishonour himself, and dis
honour such riches of his own goodness, if he should
bestow them on men for their righteousness, and should
accept their miserable performances as the price of them !
2. Your heart must be brought to close with him who
has purchased heaven. Renouncing all other ways, your
heart must entirely close with him, and adhere to him, as
the way, the truth, and the life. Your heart must be
drawn to him, and it must be pleasing and sweet to you
to have heaven as a free gift, as the fruit of mercy and
saving grace, and you must assuredly believe that Christ
is a sufficient Saviour, and your soul must acquiesce in
the way of salvation by him, by his blood and his righte
ousness, as a wise, holy, sufficient, and excellent way.
Your heart must incline to Jesus Christ as a Saviour
above your own righteousness and all otlier ways. Your
delight must be in this holy way of salvation.
3. You must choose the God of heaven for your portion.
You must be of the same temper and disposition with the
Esalmist, who says, Psal. lxxiii. 25. " Whom have I in
eaven but thee ? and there is none on the earth whom I
desire beside thee." You must esteem and relish the
enjoyment of him far above all other things. You must
be brought to see that there is that in the enjoyment of
God and communion with him that is far better than all
the profits or pleasures of the world. It must be so with
you, that if you could have your choice of all kinds of
happiness you could devise, and have which you would,
and in what degree you would, to all eternity, this would
be what you would far prefer.
4. Your heart must be brought sincerely to close with
the employments of heaven. In heaven they are not idle,
but they are continually employed, and their employments
are holy employments ; they spend their time wholly in
holy exercises ; in contemplating on God, in praising and
serving him. Rev. xxii. 3. " And there shall be no more
curse : but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in
it ; and his servants shall serve him." If ever you go to
heaven, your heart must be brought beforehand to such a
temper as freely to choose such employments, you must
have a relish of them, and must account them excellent
and delightful employments.
5. You must be pure in heart, and clean in hands.
The pure in heart alone shall see God. Matt. v. 8. They
that shall ascend into God's holy hill, are those that are of
pure hearts and clean hands. Psal. xxiv. 4. You must hate
and abhor all sin, and allow none in your life. Sin must
become to you a great burden. You must loathe yourself
for it, and fight and strive against it, to purge yourself
more and more from it ; striving more and more to mortify
sin, earnestly desiring and seeking to be more holy, more
conformed to the will of God, and to walk more becoming
a Christian. 6. You must be brought to sell all for heaven. Matt.
xiii. 44, 45, 46. Heaven must be to you like the treasure
hid in a field ; or like the pearl of great price. If you
would have heaven, you must take it as your whole por
tion ; you must in your heart part with all other things
for it, and it must be your manner actually to part with
them whenever they stand in the way of your getting
forward towards heaven. If you would have heaven, you
must sell your worldly profit and your credit, and the. good
wjll of your neighbours, and your worldly pleasures and
conveniences, and whatever stands in your way. Many
flatter themselves that they shall obtain heaven without
this, and think they have a right to heaven, though they
were never brought to this, but they are sure to find them
selves disappointed.
7. You must never expect to go to heaven in any
other than a strait and narrow way. Some expect to get
to heaven who are not walking in a narrow way. The way
thev are walking in is a wav of indulging their ease, and of
shifting off the hard and difficult parts of religion. It is
not the way of self-denial, and toil, and laboriousness,
but thev walk in a broad way, a way wherein they are not
pincbed, but can go on without labour, or watchfulness,
or bearing the cross. But such as these, let their hopes

be what they may, and their profession what it may, and
their pretences to experiences what they may, are not like
to get to heaven. To some, the way that the Scripture has
laid out is too narrow and strait ; therefore they are en
deavouring to get to heaven in a broad way ; but it is in
vain for you to contrive this. If you can find out any
way of getting to heaven that is not a strait and nan-ow
way, it will be a way that you are the first inventor of. If
you go thither, you must go in the way of the footsteps of
the flock. If you would go to heaven, you must be con
tent to go there in the way of self-denial and sufferings,
you must be willing to take up the cross daily and follow
Christ, and through much tribulation to enter into the
kingdom of heaven.
6. This subject furnishes ground of solemn exhortation
to the godly, to strive earnestly after holiness of life.
What manner of persons ought you to be in all holy con
versation and godliness, who have received such infinite
mercy of God, and entertain such glorious hopes ; see
ing God has admitted you to such happiness, earnestly
labour that you may walk in some measure answerably;
seeing God has admitted you to the happiness of children,
walk as children. Eph. v. 1. Be ye therefore followers of
God as dear children ; imitate your heavenly Father ; be
ye holy, for he is holy. Seeing that you are admitted to
the blessedness of disciples and friends of Jesus, walk
as the friends of Christ, imitate your glorious Lord and
Head. Here consider several things : particularly,
1. What great love God hath bestowed upon you in
choosing you to such unspeakable blessedness before the
foundation of the world. How wonderful was the love of
God in giving his Son to purchase this blessedness for.
you, and how wonderful was the love of the Son of God in
shedding his own blood to purchase such glory for you !
how ought you therefore to live to God's glory ! Let me
therefore beseech, by those great mercies of God, that you
give yourself up a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to
God, which is your reasonable service. And be not
slothful in business, but fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.
Give the utmost diligence that you may keep all the com
mandments of God : study that you may prove what is
that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God ; study
that in all things you may be found approved : seeing God
hath so loved you, strive earnestly that you may bring
forth the fruits of the love of God ; and seeing Christ hath
so loved you, see that you love one another ; let love be
without dissimulation ; be ye kindly affectioned one with
another with brotherly love ; be of the same mind one
towards another, in honour preferring one another; have
fervent charity among yourselves. Seeing God hath mercy
on you, be ye merciful as your Father which is in heaven
is merciful. Look not every one on his own things ; be
pitiful, be courteous ; be ready to distribute, willing to
communicate; be kind one to another, tender-hearted,
forgiving one another. Christ hath thus loved you while
an enemy ; therefore recompense to no man evil for evil,
but contrariwise. blessing ; do good to them that do evil to
you. Such things as these become those that are the heirs
of the glory that we have heard of.
2. Consider how much above the world that blessed
ness is which God has given ; how therefore ought you to
live above the world. God has redeemed you out of the
world, and therefore do not live as though you had your
portion in this life. Live as pilgrims and strangers ; as
those that are not at home ; as fellow-citizens with the
saints and of the household of God. Be ye not conformed
to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of
your mind. How dishonourable will it be to you that
God had so advanced and entitled you to such glory, to
set your heart upon the dust of the earth ; how you dis-.
honour the grace of God in giving you such blessedness ;
and how will you dishonour the blessedness that God has
given, no more to set your heart on it, and to set it so much
on the world !
3. Consider what a vast difference has God made be
tween you and other men, how vastly different is your
relative state from theirs, how much more has God done
for you than for them. Seek therefore those things which
are above, where God is. Will it not be- a shame if one
that is entitled to such glory conducts no better than a

SERMON IX.

903

child of the devil ? Consider it seriously ; and let it not
be asked with reference to you, Matt, v.' 47. What do ye
more than others ? Other men love those that love them ;
other men do good to those that do good to them : walk
worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called ; and let it
appear that you are of a spirit more excellent tban your
neighbour; manifest more love, and more meekness, and
more humility, with all lowliness and meekness, with long-
suffering, forbearing one another in love ; walk worthy of
the Lord to all pleasing, strengthened with all might ac

cording to his glorious power unto all patience and long-
suffering. Put ye on as the elect of God, holy and beloved,
bowels of mercies, kindness, gentleness of mind, meek
ness, long-suffering, forbearing one another, forgiving one
another ; and let your light so shine before men, that they,
seeing your good works, may glorify your Father who is
in heaven. Seeing God has given you so much, God and
men may well expect of you, that you should be greatly
distinguished in your life from other men.

SERMON IX.

Matthew v. 8.
Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see God.
God formerly delivered his law from mount Sinai, by
an audible voice, with the sound of a trumpet, with the
appearance of devouring fire, with thunders, and light
nings, and earthquakes. But the principal discoveries of
God's word and will to mankind were reserved to be
given by Jesus Christ, his own Son, and the Redeemer of
men, who is the light of the world.
In this sermon of Christ, of which the text is a part, we
hear him delivering the mind of God also from a moun
tain. Here is God speaking, as well as from mount Sinai,
and as immediately, but after a very different manner. There
God spake by a preternatural formation of sounds in the
air ; here he becomes incarnate, takes on him our nature,
and -speaks, and converses with us, not in a preternatural,
awful, and terrible manner, but familiarly as one of us.
His face was beheld freely by all that were about him ;
his voice was human, without those terrors which made the
children of Israel desire that God might speak to them
immediately no more ; and the revelation which he makes
of God's word is more clear and perfect, and fuller of the
discoveries of spiritual duties, of tbe spiritual nature of the
command of God, of our spiritual and true happiness, and
of mercy and grace to mankind. John i. 1 7. " For the
law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by
Jesus Christ."
This discourse of Christ on the mount seems principally
levelled against the false notions, and carnal prejudices,
that were at that day embraced by the nation of the Jews ;
and those benedictions, which we have in the beginning of
his sermon, were sayings that were mere paradoxes to
them, wholly contrary to the notions which they had re
ceived. That he, who was poor in spirit, was blessed, was
a doctrine contrary to the received opinion of the world,
and especially of that nation, who were exceedingly am
bitious of the praise of men, and highly conceited of their
own righteousness. And that he was a blessed and happy
man, who mourned for sin, and lived mortified to the
pleasures and vanities of the world, was contrary to their
notions, wbo placed their highest happiness in worldly
and carnal things. So also that they who were meek
were blessed, was another doctrine very contrary to their
notions, who were a very haughty, proud nation, and very
revengeful, and maintained the lawfulness of private re
venge, as may be seen in the 38th verse. Equally strange
to them was 'the declaration that they who hungered and
thirsted after righteousness were happy ; for they placed
their happiness, not in possessing a high degree of right
eousness, but in having a great share of worldly good.
They were wont to labour for the meat that perisheth, they
had no notion of any such thing as spiritual riches, or of
happiness in satisfying a spiritual appetite. The Jews
were dreadfully in "the dark at that day about spiritual
things. The happiness which they expected by the Mes
siah was a temporal and carnal, and not a spiritual, happi
ness. Christ also tells them that they were blessed who

were merciful, and who were peace-makers ; which was
also a doctrine that the Jews especially stood in need of
at that day, for they were generally of a cmel, unmerciful,
persecuting spirit.
The truth which Christ teaches them in the text, that
they were blessed who were pure in heart, was a thing
wholly beyond their conceptions. The Jews at this time
placed almost the whole of religion in external things, in
a conformity to the rites and ceremonies of the law of
Moses. They laid great stress on tithing mint, and anise,
and cumin, and on their traditions, as in washing hands
before meat and the like ; but they neglected the weightier
matters of the law, and especially such as respected holi
ness of heart. They took much more care to have clean
hands, and a clean outside, than a clean heart, as Christ
tells them, Matt, xxiii. 251, 27. " Woe unto you, scribes
and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye make clean the outside
of the cup and of the platter, but within ye are full of ex
tortion and excess. Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first
that which is within the cup and platter, that the outside
of them may be clean also.
We may observe concerning the words of the text,
1. That Christ pronounces the pure in heart, blessed.
Christ here accommodates his instructions to the human
nature. He knew that all mankind were in the pursuit of
happiness, he has directed them in the true way to it, and
he tells them what they must become in order to be blessed
and happy.
2. He gives the reason why such are blessed, or wherein
the blessedness of such consists ; that they sball see God.
It is probable the Jews supposed that it was a great privi
lege to see God, from those passages in the law, where
there is an account of Moses s earnestly desiring to see
God's glory ; and from the account that is given of the
seventy elders, Exod. xxiv. 9, 10, 11. "Then went up
Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of the
elders of Israel ; and they saw the God of Israel : and
there was under his feet as it were a paved work of a
sapphire stone, and as it were the body of heaven in his
clearness. And upon the nobles of the children of Israel
he laid not his hand : also they saw God, and did eat and
drink." It is also probable that they had very imperfect notions
of what the vision of God was, and of the happiness that
consisted in it, and that their notion of this matter, agree
ably to the rest of their carnal, childish notions, was of
some outwardly splendid and glorious sight, to please the
eye and to entertain the fancy. From these words I shall
derive two propositions.
I. It is a truly blessed thing to the soul of man to see
Cod. II. To be pure in heart, is the certain and only way to
attain to this hlessedness.
I. It is a truly blessed thing to the soul of man to see
God. Here I shall attempt to show,
1 . What is meant by seeing God.
First. It is not any sight with the bodily eyes: the
blessedness of the soul does not enter in at that door. This
would make the blessedness of the soul dependent on the

906

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

body, or the happiness of man's superior part dependent
on the inferior ; and. this would have confirmed the carnal
and childish notions of the Jews.
God is a spirit, and is not to be seen with the bodily
eves. We find it attributed to God, that he is invisible.
Heb. xi. 27. " As seeing him, who is invisible." Col. i.
15. " Who is the image of the invisible God." It is men
tioned as a part of God's glory, 1 Tim. i. 17. " Now unto
the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God,
be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen." That it
is not any sight with the bodily eyes, is evident, because
the unembodied souls of the saints see God, and the
angels also, who are spirits and were never united to
bodies. Matt, xviii. 10. " Take heed that ye despise not
one of these little ones : for I say unto you, that in heaven
their angels do always behold the face of my Father which
is in heaven."
It is not any form or visible representation, nor shape,
nor colour, nor shining light, that is seen, wherein this
great happiness of the soul consists. Indeed God was
wont to manifest himself of old in outward glorious ap
pearances. There was a shining light that was called the
glory of the Lord. Thus the glory of the Lord was said
to descend on mount Sinai, and in the tabernacle of the
congregation. There was an outward visible token of
God's presence, and the seventy elders, when they saw
God in the mount, saw a visible shape. It seems also
that when Moses desired to see God's glory, and when
God passed by and covered him with his hand in the cleft
of the rock, that Moses saw some visible glory. Exod.
xxxiii. 18 — 23. " And he said, I beseech thee.show me thy
glory. And he said, I will make all my goodness to pass
before thee, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord be
fore thee ; and will be gracious to whom I will be gracious,
and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. And
he said, Thou canst not see my face ; for there shall no
man see me and live." But it seems that God then conde
scended to the infant state of the church, and to the childish
notions that were entertained in those days of lesser light;
and Moses's request seems to have been answered, by God
making his goodness to pass before him, and proclaiming
his name, and giving him a strong apprehension of the
things contained in that name, rather than by showing him
anv outward glory.
The saints in heaven will behold an outward glory as
they are in the human nature of Christ, which is united to the
Godhead, as it is the body of that person who is God ; and
there will doubtless be appearances of a divine and in
imitable glory and beautv in Christ's glorified body, which
it will indeed be a refreshing and blessed sight to see.
But the beauty of Christ's body as seen by the bodily
eyes, will be ravishing and delightful, chiefly as it will
express his spiritual glory. The majesty that will appear
in Christ's body, will express and show forth the spiritual
greatness and majesty of the divine nature; the pureness
and beauty of that light and glory, will express the perfec
tion of the divine holiness ; the sweetness and ravishing
mildness of his countenance, will express his divine and
spiritual love and grace.
Thus it was when the three disciples beheld Christ at
his transfiguration upon the mount. They beheld a won
derful outward glory in Christ's body, an inexpressible
beauty in his countenance ; but that outward glory and
beauty delighted them principally as an expression of the
divine excellencies of his mind, as we may see from their
manner of speaking of it. It was the sweet mixture of
majesty and grace in his countenance, by which they were
ravished. 2 Pet. i. 16, 17, 18. " We were eye-witnesses
of his majesty. For he received from God the Father
honour and glory, when there came such a voice to him
from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in
whom I am well pleased. And this voice which came
from heaven we heard, when we were with him in Ihe
holy mount." But especially from the account which
John gives of it. John i. 14. " And the Word was made
flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the
glory as of the only-begotten of the Father,) full of grace
and truth ;" where John very probably had in his mind
what he had seen in the mount at the transfiguration.
Grace and truth are not outward, but spiritual, glories.

Secondly. It is an intellectual view by which God is
seen. God is a spiritual being, and he is beheld with the
understanding. The soul has in itself those powers which
are capable of apprehending objects, and especially spirit
ual objects, without looking through the windows of the
outward senses. This is a more perfect way of perception
than by tbe eyes of the body. We are so accustomed and
habituated to depend upon our senses, and our intellectual
powers are so neglected and disused, that we are ready to
conceive that seeing things with the bodily eyes is the
most perfect way of apprehending them. But it is not
so ; the eye of the soul is vastly more perfect than the
eye of the body ; yet it is not every apprehension of God
by the understanding that may be called the seeing of
him. As,
1st. The having an apprehension of God merely by
hearsay. If we hear of such a being as God, are educated
in the belief that there is such a being, are told what sort
of being he is, and what he has done, and are rightly told,
and we give credit to what we hear; yet if we have no
apprehension of God in anv other way, we cannot be said
to see God in the sense of the text. This is not the beatific
sight of God.
2d. If we have an apprehension of God merely by
speculative reasoning. If we come to some apprehension
of God's being, and of his being almighty, all-wise, and
good, by ratiocination, that is not what the Scripture calls
seeing God. It is some more immediate way of under
standing and viewing that is called sight ; nor will such an
apprehension as this merely ever make the soul truly bless
ed. Nor,
3d. Is every more immediate and sensible apprehension
of God, that seeing of him mentioned in the text, and that
which is truly beatific. The wicked spirits in the other
world have doubtless more immediate apprehensions of the
being of God, and of his power and wrath, than the wicked
in this world. They stand before God to be judged, they
receive the sentence from him, they have a dreadful ap
prehension of his wrath and displeasure. But yet they
are exceedingly remote from seeing God, in the sense of
the text.
But to see God, is this. It is to have an immediate,
sensible, and certain understanding of God's glorious ex
cellency and love.
1st. There must be a direct and immediate sense of God's
glory and excellency. I say direct and immediate, lo dis
tinguish it from a mere perception that God is glorious
and excellent by means of speculative and distant argu
mentation, which is a more indirect wav of apprehending
things. A true sense of the glory of God is that which
can never be obtained by speculative ratiocination ; and if
men convince themselves by argument that God is holy,
that never will give a sense of his amiable and glorious
holiness. If they argue that he is very merciful, that will
not give a sense of his glorious grace and mercy. It
must be a more immediate, sensible discovery that must
give the mind a real sense of the excellency and beauty
of God. He that sees God, has a direct and immediate
view of God's great and awful majesty, of his pure and
beauteous holiness, of his wonderful and endearing grace
and mercy.
2d. There is a certain understanding of his love, there is
a certain apprehension of his presence. He that beholds
God, does not merely see him as present by his essence,
for so he is present with all, both godly and ungodly. But
he is more especially present with those whom he loves,
he is graciously present with them ; and when they see
him, they see him and know him to be so ; they have an
understanding of his love to them ; they see bim from
love manifesting himself to them. He that has a blessed-
making sight of God, not only has a view of God's glory
and excellency, but he views it as having a property in it;
he sees God's love to him ; he receives the testimonies and
manifestations of that love.
God's favour is sometimes in Scripture called his face :
Psal. cxix. 58. where it is translated, " I entreated thy fa
vour with my whole heart ;" it is in the original " thy
face ;" and God's hiding his face, is a very common ex
pression to signify his withholding the testimonies of his
favour.

SERMON IX.

907

To see God, as in the text, implies the sight of him as
glorious and as gracious ; a vision of the light of his
countenance, both as it is understood of the effulgence of
his glory, and the manifestations of his favour and love.
The discoveries which the saints have in this world of
the glory and love of God, are often in Scripture called
the sight of God. Thus it is said of Abraham, that he
saw him who is invisible. Heb. xi. 27. So the saints are
said to see as in a glass the glory of the Lord. 2 Cor. iii.
18. " But we all with open face, beholding, as in a glass,
the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image,
from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord."
Christ speaks of tbe spiritual knowledge of God. John
xiv. 7. " If ye had known me, ye would have known my
Father also : and from henceforth ye know him, and have
seen him." The saints in this world have an earnest of
what is future, they have the dawnings of future light.
But the more perfect view which the saints have of
God's glory and love in another world, is what is especially
called the seeing of God. Then they shall see him as he
is. That light which now is but a glimmering, will be
brought to clear sunshine; that which is here but the
dawning, will become perfect day.
Those intellectual views which will be granted in another
world, are called seeing God.
1st. Because the view will be very direct ; as when we
see things with the bodily eyes. God will, as it were,
immediately discover himself to their minds, so that the
understanding shall behold the glory and love of God, as
a man beholds the countenance of his friend. The dis
coveries which the saints here have of God's excellency
and grace, are immediate in a sense ; that is, they do not
mainly consist in ratiocination ; but yet in another sense
they are indirect, that is, they are by means of the gospel,
as through a glass ; but in heaven God will immediately
excite apprehensions of himself, without the use of any
such means.
2d. It is called seeing, because it will be most certain.
When persons see a thing with their own eyes, it gives
them the greatest certainty they can have of it, greater than
they can have by any information of others. So the sight
that they will have in heaven will exclude all doubting.
The knowledge of God which the saints have in this
world, has certainty in it, but yet the certainty is liable to
be interrupted with temptations, and some degree of
doubtings, but there is no such thing in heaven. The
looking at the sun does not give a greater nor fuller cer
tainty that it shines.
3d. It is called seeing, because the apprehension of
God's glory and love is as clear and lively as when any
thing is seen with bodily eyes. When we are actually
beholding any thing with our eyes in the meridian light of
the sun, it does not give a more lively idea and apprehen
sion of it than the saints in heaven have of the divine ex
cellency and love of God. When we are looking upon
things our idea is much more clear and perfect, and the
impression stronger on the soul, than when we only think
of a thing absent. Bu t the intellectual views that the saints
in heaven will have of God, will have far the advantage of
bodily sight, it will be a much more perfect way of appre
hending. The saints in heaven will see the glory of the
body of Christ after the resurrection with bodily eyes, but
they will have no more immediate and perfect way of see
ing lhat visible glory than thev will of beholding Christ's
divine and spiritual glory. They will not want eyes lo see
that which is spiritual, as well as we can see any thing that
is corporeal ; they will behold God in an ineffable, and lo
us now inconceivable, manner.
4th. The intellectual sight which the saints will have of
God will make them as sensible of his presence, and give
them as great advantages for conversing with him, as the
sight of the bodily eves doth an earthly friend; yea, and
more too; for wben we see our earthly friends with bodily
eyes, we have not the most full and direct sight of their
principal part, even their souls. We see the qualities, and
dispositions, and acts of their minds, no otherwise than by
outward signs of speech and behaviour ; strictly speaking,
we do not see the man, the soul, at all, but only its taber
nacle or dwelling.
But their souls will have the most clear sight of the

spiritual nature of God itself. They shall behold his at
tributes and disposition towards them more immediately,
and therefore with greater certainty, than it is possible to
see any thing in the soul of an earthly friend by his speech
and behaviour; and therefore their spiritual sight will give
them greater advantage for conversing with God, than the
sight of earthly friends with bodily eyes, or hearing them
with our ears, gives us for conversing with them.
2. I shall now give the reasons why the thus seeing God
is that which will make the soul truly happy.
First. It yields a delight suitable to the nature of an
intelligent creature. God hath made man, and man only,
of all the creatures here below, an intelligent creature; and
his reason and understanding are that by which he is dis
tinguished from all inferior ranks of beings. Man's reason
is, as it were, a heavenly ray, or, in the language of the
wise man, it is " the candle of the Lord." It is that
wherein mainly consists the natural image of God, it is
the noblest faculty of man, it is that which ought to bear
rule over the other powers; being given for that end, that
it might govern the soul.
Therefore those delights are most suitable to the nature
of man, that are intellectual, which result from the exer
cises of this noblest, this distinguishing faculty. God, by
giving man understanding, made him capable of such de
lights, and fitted him for them, and designed that such
pleasures as those should be his happiness.
Intellectual pleasures consist in the beholding of spiritual
excellencies and beauties, but the glorious excellency and
beauty of God are far the greatest. God's excellence is the
supreme excellence. When the understanding of the
reasonable creature dwells here, it dwells at the fountain,
and swims in a boundless, bottomless ocean. The love of
God is also the most suitable entertainment of the soul of
man, which naturally desires the happiness of society, or
of union with some other being. The love of so glorious
a being is infinitely valuable, and the discoveries of it are
capable of ravishing the soul above all other love. It is
suitable to the nature of an intelligent being also, as it is
that kind of delight that reason approves of. There are
many other delights in which men indulge themselves,
which, although they are pleasing to the senses and inferior
powers, yet are contrary to reason ; reason opposes the en
joyment of them, so that unless reason be suppressed and
stifled, they cannot be enjoyed without a war in the soul.
Reason, tbe noblest faculty, resists the inferior rebellious
powers; and the more reason is in exercise, the more
will it resist, and the greater will be the inward war and
opposition. But this delight of seeing God the understanding ap
proves of; it is a thing most agreeable to reason that the
soul should delight itself in this, and the more reason is in
exercise, the more it approves of it. So that when it is
enjoyed, it is with inward peace, and a sweet tranquillity
of-soul ; there is nothing in human nature lhat is opposite
to it, but every thing agrees and conforms to it.
Secondly. The pleasure which the soul has in seeing
God, is not only its delight, but it is at the same time its
highest perfection and excellency. Man's true happiness
is his perfection and true excellency. When any reason
able creature finds that his excellency and his joy are the
same thing, then he is come to right and real happiness,
and not before. If a man enjoys any kind of pleasure and
lives in it, how much soever he may be taken with what
he enjoys, yet if he be not the more excellent for his plea
sures, it is a certain sign that he is not a truly happy man.
There are many pleasures that men are wont violently to
pursue, which are no part of their dignity or perfection, but
which, on the contrary, debase the man and make him vile.
Instead of rendering the mind beautiful and lovely, they
only serve to pollute it; instead of exalting its nature, they
make it more akin to that of beasts.
But it is quite the contrary with the pleasure that is to
be enjoyed in seeing God. To see God is the highest
honour and dignity to which the human nature can attain ;
that intellectual beholding of him is itself the highest ex
cellency of the understanding. The great part of the ex
cellency of man is his knowledge and understanding; but
the knowledge of God is the most excellent and noble kind
of knowledge.

908

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

The delight and joy of the soul in that sight are the
highest excellency of the other faculty, viz. the will. The
heart of man cannot be brought to a higher excellency
than to have delight in God, and complacency in the divine
excellency and glory. The soul, while it remains under
the power of corruption and depravity, cannot have any
delight in God's glory ; and when its moral relish is so
far changed that it is disposed to delight in it, it is most
excellently disposed ; and when it actually exercises delight
in God, it is the most noble and exalted exercise of which
it is capable. So that the soul's seeing of God, and hav
ing pleasure and joy in the sight, is the greatest excellency
of both the faculties.
Thirdly. The happiness of seeing God is a blessing
without any mixture. That pleasure has the best claim to
be called man's true happiness, which comes unmixed, and
without alloy. But so doth the joy of seeing God ; it
neither brings any bitterness, nor will it suffer any.
1 . This pleasure brings no bitterness with it. That is
not the case with other delights, in which natural men are
wont to place their happiness ; they are bitter sweets,
yielding a kind of momentary pleasure in gratifying an
appetite, but wormwood and gail are mingled in the cup.
He who plucks these roses, finds that thev grow on thorns ;
he who tastes of this honey is sure to find in it a sting.
If men place their happiness in them, reason and con
science will certainly give them inward disturbance in their
enjoyment. There will be the sting of continual disap
pointments, for carnal delights are of such a nature that
they keep the soul, that places its happiness in them,
always big with expectation and in eager pursuit ; while
they are evermore like shadows, and never yield what is
hoped for. They who give themselves up to them, un
avoidably bring upon themselves many heavy inconveni
ences. If they promote their pleasure in -one way, they
destroy their comforts in many other ways ; and this sting
ever accompanies them, that tbey are but short-lived, they
will soon vanish, and be no more.
And as to the pleasure found in the enjoyment of earthly
friends, there is a bitterness goes also with that. An in
tense love to any earthly object, though it may afford high
enjoyment, yet greatly multiplies our cares and anxieties
through the defects and blemishes, the instability and
changeableness, of the object, the calamities to which it is
exposed, and the short duration of all such friendships,
and of the pleasures thence arising.
Some men take a great deal of pleasure in study, in the
increase of knowledge : but Solomon, who had great ex
perience, long ago observed that this also is vanity, be
cause he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.
Eccles. i. 17, 18. "And I gave my heart to know wisdom,
and to know madness and folly : I perceived that this
also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom is much
grief ; and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth
sorrow." But the delight which the sight of God affords
to the soul, brings no bitterness with it, there is no disap
pointment accompanies it, it promises not more than it
yields, but on the contrary the pleasure is greater than
could be imagined before God was seen. It brings no
sting of conscience along with it, it brings no vexing care
nor anxiety, it leaves no loathing nor disrelish behind it.
There is nothing in God which gives uneasiness to him
who beholds him. The view of one attribute adds to the
joy that is raised by another. A sight of the holiness of
God, gives unspeakable pleasure to the mind ; the idea of
it is a perception beyond measure the most delightful that
can exist in a created mind. And then the beholding of
God's grace adds to this joy, for the soul then considers
that the Being who is so amiable in himself, is so com
municative, so disposed to love and benevolence. The
view of the majesty of God greatly heightens this joy : to
behold such grace and goodness, and such goodness and
majesty, united together. Especially will the sigbt of
God's love to himself, the person beholding, increase the
pleasure, when he considers that so great and glorious a
being loves him, and is his God and friend. Again, the
beholding of God's infinite power will still add to the
pleasure, for he reflects that he, who is his friend, and
loves him with so great a love, can do all tbings for him.
fco the beholding of his wisdom, because he thereby knows

what is best for him, and knows how so to order things*
as shall make him most blessed. So the consideration of
his eternity and immutability ; it will rejoice him to think
that his friend and his portion is an eternal and unchange
able friend and portion. The beholding of God's happiness
will increase the joy, to consider that he is so happy, who
is so much the object of his love. That love of God, in
those who shall see God, will cause them exceedingly to
rejoice in the happiness of God. Even the sight of God's
vindictive justice will add to their joy. This justice of
God will appear glorious to them, and will make them
prize his love.
2d. This joy is without mixture, not only as it brings
not bitterness with it, but also as it will not suffer any.
The sight of God excludes every thing that is of a nature
different from delight. This light is such, as wholly ex
cludes darkness.
It is not in the power of any earthly enjoyment to drive
and shut out all trouble from the heart. If a man has
some things in which he takes comfort and pleasure, there
are others that yield him uneasiness and sorrow; if he
has some things in the world that are sweet, there are others
that are bitter, against which it is not in the power of his
pleasures to help him. We never can find any thing here
below that shall make us so happy, but that we shall have
grief and pleasure mixed together. This world, let us
make the best of it, will be spotted with black and white,
varied with clouds and sunshine, and to them who yield
their hearts to it, it will yield pain as well as pleasure.
But this pleasure of seeing God can suffer no mixture ;
for this pleasure of seeing God is so great and strong that
it takes the full possession of the heart, it fills it perfectly
full, so that there shall be no room for any sorrow, no room
in any corner for any thing of an adverse nature from joy.
There is no darkness that can bear such powerful light.
It is impossible that they who see God face to face, who
behold his glory and love so immediately as they do in
heaven, should have any such thing as grief or pain in
their hearts. When once the saints are come into God's
presence, tears shall be wiped from tlieir eyes, and sorrow
and sighing shall flee away. The pleasure will be so
great, as fully and perfectly to employ every faculty ; the
sight of God's glory and love will be so wonderful, so
engaging to the mind, and it shall keep all the powers of
it in such strong attention, that the soul will be wholly
possessed and taken up.
Again. There will be in what they shall see, a suf
ficient antidote against every thing that would afford un
easiness, or that can have any tendency thereto. If there
were sin in the heart before, that used by its exercise to
disturb its peace and quiet, and was a seed and spring of
trouble, the immediate and full sight of God's glory will
at once drive it all away. Sin cannot remain in the heart
which thus beholds God, for sin is a principle of enmity
against God ; but there can no enmity remain in one, who
after this manner sees God's glory. It must and will
wholly drive away any such principle, and change it into
love. The imperfect sight that the saints have of God's
glory here, transforms them in part into the same image ;
but this perfect sight will transform them perfectly. If
there be the hatred of enemies, the vision of the love and
power of God will be a sufficient antidote against it ; so
that it can give no uneasiness. If the saint is removed
by death from all his earthly friends, and earthly enjoy
ments, that will give no uneasiness to him, when he sees
what a fulness there is in God. He will see that there is
all in him, so that he who possesses him can lose nothing :
whatever is taken from him he sustains no loss. And
whatever else there may be, that would otherwise afford
grief and uneasiness to the soul, it cannot affect him who
is in the presence of God and sees his face.
Fourthly. This joy of seeing God is the trae blessed
ness of man, because the fountain that supplies it is equal
to man's desire and capacity.
When God gave man his capacity of happiness, he
doubtless made provision for the filling of it. There was
some good which God had in his eye, when he made the
vessel, and made it of such dimensions, which he knew
to be sufficient to fill it ; and doubtless that, whatever it
be, is man's true blessedness ; and that good which is

SERMON IX.

909

found not to be commensurate to man's capacity and
natural desires, and never can equal it, is certainly not
that wherein man's happiness consists. Man's desires
and capacities are commensurate one with another. When
once the capacity is filled, the soul desires no more.
Now in order to judge how great man's capacity is, we
must consider the capacity of his principal and leading
faculty, viz- his understanding. So great as is the
capacity of that faculty, so great is man's capacity of
enjoyment ; so great a good as the soul is capable of un
derstanding, so great a good it is capable of enjoying. As
great a good as the soul is capable of comprehending in
its perception and idea, so great a good is it capable of re
ceiving with the other faculty, the will, which keeps pace
with the understanding ; and that good which the soul
can receive with both faculties, of that is it capable of be
ing made the possessor and enjoyer.
But it is easy to perceive that there is nothing here below
that can give men such delight as shall be equal to this
faculty. Let a man enjoy as great an affluence of earthly
comforts as he will, still there is room ; man's nature is
capable of a great deal more, there are certain things want
ing to which the understanding can extend itself, which
he could wish were added.
But the fountain that supplies that joy and delight,
which the soul has in seeing God, is sufficient to fill the
vessel, because it is infinite. He that sees the glory of
God, in his measure beholds that of which there is no end.
The understanding may extend itself as far as it will ; it
doih but take its flight into an endless expanse, and dive
into a bottomless ocean. It may discover more and more
of the beauty and loveliness of God, but it never will ex
haust the fountain. The body of man may as well
swallow up the ocean, or his soul embrace immensity, as he
can extend his faculties to the utmost of God's excellency.
So in like manner it may be said of the love of God.
We can never by soaring and ascending come to the
height of it ; we can never by descending come to the
depth of it ; or by measuring, know the length and
•breadth of it. Eph. iii. 18, 19. "That ye may be able
to comprehend with all saints, what is tbe breadth, and
length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of
Christ, which passeth knowledge ; that ye might be filled
with all the fulness of God." So that let the thoughts and
desires extend themselves as they will, here is space
enough for them, in which they may expand for ever.
How blessed therefore are they that do see God, who are
come to tbis exhaustless fountain 1 They have obtained
that delight which gives full satisfaction ; having come to
this pleasure, they neither do nor can desire any more.
They can sit down fully contented, and take up with this
enjoyment for ever and ever, and desire no change. After
they have had the pleasure of beholding the face of God
millions of ages, it will not grow a dull story ; the relish
of this delight will be as exquisite as ever, there is enough
still for the utmost employment of every faculty.
Fifthly. This delight iri the vision of God hath an un
failing foundation. God made man to endure for ever, and
therefore that which is man's true blessedness, we may
conclude has a sure and lasting foundation. As to worldly
enjoyments, tlieir foundation is a sandy one, that is con
tinually wearing away, and certainly will at last let the
building fall. If we take pleasure in riches, riches in a
little while will be gone ; if we take pleasure in gratify
ing our senses, those objects whence we draw our gratifica
tions will perish with the using ; and our senses themselves
also will be gone, tbe organs will be worn out, and our
whole outward form will turn to dust. If we take pleasure
in union with our earthly friends, that union mustbebroken;
the bonds are not durable, but will soon wear asunder.
But he who bas the immediate intellectual vision of
God's giory and iove, and rejoices in that, has his happiness
built upon an everlasting rock. Isaiah xxvi. 4. " Trust ye
in the Lord for ever, for. in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting
strength." In the Hebrew itis, " in the Lord Jehovah is
the Rock of ages." . .
The glory of God is subject to no changes nor vicissi
tudes, it will never cease to shine forth. History gives us
an ?ccount of the sun's light failing, and becoming more
faint and dim for manv months together ; but the glory of

God will never be subject to fade. Of the light of that
Sun there never will be any eclipse or dimness, but it will
shine eternally in its strength. Isa. lx. 19. " The sun
shall be no more thy light by day ; neither for brightness
shall the moon give light unto thee : but the Lord shall be
unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory." So
the love of God, to those who see his face, will never fail,
or be subject to any abatement ; he loves his saints with
an everlasting love. Jer. xxxi. 3. " The Lord bath appear
ed of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an
everlasting love ; therefore with loving-kindness have I
drawn thee." Those streams of pleasure which are at God's
right hand, are never dry, but ever flowing and ever full.
How much doth the sense of the sureness of this founda
tion confirm and heighten the joy ! The soul enjoys its de
light in a sense of this, free from all fears and jealousies, and
with an unspeakable quietness and assurance. Isa. xxxii.
17. " And the work of righteousness shall be peace ; and
the effect of righteousness, quietness and assurance for ever."
From this part of the subject we may derive several
important and useful reflections.
1. Here we may see one instance wherein the revelation
of Jesus Christ excels all human wisdom. It was a thing
that had been beyond the wisdom of the world, to tell
wherein man's true happiness consisted ; there was a vast
variety of opinions about it among the wise men and
philosophers of the heathen ; indeed on no other subject
was there so great difference among them. If I remember
right, there were several hundred different opinions reckon
ed up respecting it, which shows that they were woefully in
the dark. Though there were many very wise men among
them, men famed through all succeeding ages for their
knowledge and wisdom ; yet their reason was not suffi
cient to find out man's true happiness.
We can give reasons for it now that it is revealed, and
it seems so rational, that one would think the light of
nature sufficient to discover it; but we having always
lived in the enjoyment of gospel light, and being ac
customed to it, are hardly sensible how dependent we are
upon it, and bow much we should be in the dark about
things that now seem plain to us, if we never had had our
reason assisted by revelation.
God hath made foolish the wisdom of this world by the
gospel. 1 Cor. i. 20. " Where is the wise ? where is the
scribe ? where is the disputer of this world ? hath not
God made foolish the wisdom of this world ?" i. e. he
hath shown the foolishness of their wisdom by this brighter
light of his revelation. For all that philosophy and human
wisdom could do, it was the gospel that first taught the
world wherein mankind's true blessedness consisted, and
that taught them the way to attain to' it.
2. Hence we learn the great privilege we have, who
possess such advantages to come to the blessedness of see
ing God. We have the true God revealed to us in the
word of God, who is the Being in the' sight of whom this
happiness is to be enjoyed. We have the glorious attri
butes and perfections of God declared to us. The glory
of God in the face of Jesus Christ is discovered in the
gospel which we enjoy, his beauties and glories are there
as it were pointed forth by God's own hand to our view ;
so that we have those means which God hath provided for
our obtaining those beginnings of this sight of him which
the saints have in this world, in that spiritual knowledge
which they have of God, which is absolutely necessary in
order to our having it perfectly in another world.
The knowledge which believers have of God and his
glory, as appearing in the face of Christ, is the imperfect
beginning of this heavenly sight, it is an earnest of it, it is
the dawning ofthe heavenly light ; and this beginning must
evermore precede, or a perfect vision of God in heaven
cannot be obtained ; and all those that have this begin
ning, shall obtain that perfection also. Great therefore is
our privilege, that we have the means of this spiritual
knowledge. We may in this world see God as in a glass
darkly, in order to our seeing him hereafter face to face ; and
surely our privilege is very great, that he has given us that
glass'from whence God's glory is reflected. We have not
only tbe discoveries of God's glory in the doctrines of his
word, but we have abundant directions how to act, so that
we may obtain a perfect and beatific sight of God ;

910

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

one of which we have in our text, and of which I shall
speak particularly hereafter.
3. This doctrine may lead us to a sense of the blessed
ness of the heavenly state, and justly cause us to long
after it. In heaven the saints do see God, they enjoy that
vision of him of which we have been speaking in its per
fection. All clouds and darkness are there removed, they
there behold the glory and love of God more immediately,
and with greater certainty, and a more strong and lively
apprehension, than a man beholds his friend when he is
with him, and sees his face by the noon-day sun, and with
far greater advantages for conversation and enjoyment.
Well may this make the heavenly state appear a blessed
state to us, and make us to breathe after it ; well may the
consideration of these things make the saints wait for
and desire their happy change ; well may it make them
long for the appearing of Christ. This they know, that
when he shall appear, they shall " see him as he is."
1 John iii. 2. " Beloved, now are we the sons of God;
and it doth not yet appear.what we shall be : but we know
that when he shall apnear, we shall be like him ; for we
shall see him as he is."
This may well be comforting to the saints under the ap
prehensions of death, and it is a consideration sufficient to
take awav the sting of it, and uphold them while walking
through the midst of that valley. This also may well com
fort and uphold them in all troubles and difficulties they
meet with here, that after a little while they shall see God ;
which will immediately dry up all tears, and drive away all
sorrow and sighing, and expel for ever every darksome
thought from the heart.
4. "Hence we learn that a life of holiness is the plea-
santest life in this world, because in such a life we have
the imperfect beginnings of a blessed and endless sight of
God ; and so thev have somewhat of trae happiness while
here, they have the seeds of blessedness sown in their souls,
and they begin to shoot forth.
As for all others, those who do not live a holy life, they
have nothing at all of true happiness, because they have
nothing of the knowledge of God.
II. To be pure in heart, is the certain and only way to
attain to this blessedness.
We have shown what this seeing of God is, and have
represented in some measure how great is the blessedness
of so seeing him ; and if what we have heard is believed
and cordially received by us, it will be sufficient to awaken
our attention to any instructions from the word of God
that are to point out the way to us wherein we may attain
to this blessedness.
If men should hear of some vast estate, or some rich
hidden treasure, and at the same time should hear of some
very feasible way in which they might make it all their
own ; how ready would they be to hear, with what eager
ness would they listen to those who should bring such
news and give them such directions, provided they had
reason to believe that what was told them was true! We
are here told of a much truer and greater blessedness,
than any treasure of silver, and gold, and pearls can yield;
and we are also told of the way whereby we may assured
ly become the possessors of it, by him who certainly
knows. I shall show,
1. What it is to be pure in heart.
2. That to be pure in heart, is the sure way to gain this
blessedness. 3. That it is the only way.
1. I shall inquire what it is to be pure in heart. Purity
of heart is here to be understood in distinction from a
mere external puritv, or a purity of the outward actions
and behaviour in those things that appear to men in an
external morality, and an outward attendance on ordi
nances, and a profession of the true religion and pure doc
trines, and a making an outward show and appearance of
godliness. Christ had very probably in our text an eye to the for
mality and hypocrisy of the scribes and Pharisees, and
other great saints, as they accounted themselves, and were
accounted among the Jews. These were exceedingly ex
act in their observance of ihe ordinances of the ceremonial
law, they were careful not to deviate from it in the least
punctilio. For instance, how exact were they in observ

ing the law of tithes ; they were careful to bring the tenth
of the herbs in their gardens, as mint, anise, and cumin.
They were very careful to keep themselves from all cere
monial uncleanness, and they even added to the law in
this particular; they were for being stricter and purer than
the law required, and therefore made conscience of wash
ing their hands before every meal. They were very strict
to avoid conversing with the Samaritans ; they would not
eat with them, nor have any dealings with them, lest they
should be defiled. They used to say to other nations,
" Stand by thyself, come not nigh, for I am holier than
thou." They looked upon themselves only as pure, be
cause they were the children of Abraham, and because
they were circumcised, and attended the ceremonial law ;
because they made clean the outside of the cup and the
platter, and because of iheir external purity, they looked
upon themselves as the peculiar favourites of heaven, and
expected to be admitted to see God, when all the uncir
cumcised, and those that were not the children of Abra
ham, should be excluded.
But Christ corrects this their mistake, and teaches that
such an external purity will never give a man a title to this
blessedness, for it is purity of heart that is requisite in order
to attain to it. Matt. v. 20. " For I say unto you, that ex
cept your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of
the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into
the kingdom of heaven."
However exact any man may be in the external observ
ance of moral, instituted duties, if he be careful to wrong
no man, and can say, as the young Pharisee did, " All
these have I kept from my youth," i.e. as to an external
observance, if he be very strict in keeping the sabbath
and in coming to the house of God, in attending family
and secret prayer, yet if he has not holiness of heart, he is
never like to see God. It is no reformation of manners
that is sufficient, but there must be a new heart, and a
right spirit. It is the heart that God requires. Prov. xxiii.
26. " My son, give me thine heart." It is the heart that
God looks at. However fair and pure an outside there
may be, that may be very pleasing to men, yet if there be
not purity of heart, the man is not at all the more accept
able to God. 1 Sam. xvi. T. " But the Lord said unto
Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of
his stature ; because I have refused him : for the Lord
seeth not as man seeth ; for man looketh on the outward
appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." If men
outwardly behave well and speak well, yet it is not ac
cepted without trying and weighing the heart. Prov. xvi. 2.
" All the ways of man are clean in his own eyes, but the
Lord weigheth the spirits." It is the spirit which is the
subject of this blessedness of seeing God, and therefore the
qualities of the spirit, and not so much those of the out
ward man, are regarded.
Now the heart is said to be pure in the sense of the
text, First. With respect to the spiritual defilement from
which it is pure ;
Secondly. With respect to certain positive qualities that
it is endowed with.
The word pure, in its common acceptation, merely sig
nifies something negative, viz. the absence of all mixture
or defilement ; but in pureness of heart, as it is used in
Scripture, seems to be implied both something negative
and positive, not only the absence or removal of defile
ment, but also positive qualities, that are called pure.
First. The heart is said to be pure with respect to the
filthiness from which it is pure. Sin is the greatest filthi
ness. There is nothing that can so defile and render so
abominable. It is that which has an infinite abominable-
ness in it; and indeed it is the only spiritual defilement ;
there is nothing else that can defile the soul. Now there
are none in this life who are pure from sin in such a sense
that there is no remainder, no mixture of sin. Prov. xx.
9. " Who can sav, I have made my heart clean, I am
pure from my sin?" So that if this were the requisite
qualification, none of the children of men would ever come
to see God.
But the puritv of heart with respect to sin, that may be
obtained in this life, consists in the following things :
1st. It implies that the soul sees the filthiness that there

SERMON IX.

911

is in sin, and accordingly abhors it. Sin, that is so filthy
in itself, is become so sensibly to the man whose heart is
pure ; he sees its odiousness and deformity, and it is be
come nauseous to him.
To those animals which are of a filthy and impure
nature, as swine and dogs, ravens and vermin, those things
that are filthy and nauseous to mankind, do not seem at all
disgusting ; but on the contrary they love them, it is food
that suits their appetites. It is because they are of an
impure and filthy nature ; the nature of the animal is
agreeable to such things. So it is with men of impure
hearts. They see no filthiness insin, they do not nauseate
it, it is in no way uncomfortable to them to have it hanging
about them, they can wallow in it without any reluctance;
yea, they take pleasure in it, it is their meat and their
drink, because they are of an impure nature. But he who
has become pure in heart hates sin ; he has antipathy to
it; he does not love to be near it; if he sees any of it
hanging about him, he abhors himself for it ; he seems
filthy to himself, he is a burden to himself, he abhors the
very sight of it, and shuns the appearance of it. If he
sees sin in others, it is a very unpleasant sight to bim ; as
sin, and as committed against God, it is grievous and un
comfortable to him wherever he discovers it. It is because
his heart is changed, and God has given him a pure nature.
2d. It implies godly sorrow for sin. The pure heart has
not only respect to that spiritual filthiness that is present to
abhor it and shun it, but it has also respect to past sin.
The consideration of that grieves it ; it causes shame and
sorrow to think that it ever rejoiced in such defilement, that
jt ever was so abominable as to love it and feed upon it.
Every transgression leaves a filth behind it upon the soul,
and this remaining filth occasions pain to the renewed and
purified heart. By godly sorrow the heart exerts itself
against the filthiness of past sins, and does, as it were, en
deavour to cast it off, and purge itself from it.
3d. It implies that sin is mortified in the heart, so that it
is free from the reigning power and dominion of it. Tbough
the heart is not perfectly free from all sin, yet a freedom is
begun. Before, spiritual filth had the possession of the
heart, corruption bad the entire government of the soul,
every faculty was so wholly defiled by it, that all its acts
were filthy, and only filthy," the heart was entirely enslaved
to sin.
But now the power of sin is broken, the strong bands
by which it was tied and fastened to the heart are in a great
measure loosed, so that corruption has no longer the pos
session and government of the heart as before. The
principal seat, the throne of the heart, that was formerly
possessed by corruption, is now purged, and filthiness does
now as it were only possess the inferior and exterior parts
of the soul. John xiii. 10. " He that is washed needeth
not, save to wash his feet."
4th. The heart that is pure will be continually endea
vouring to cleanse itself from all remaining filthiness.
Though there be remains of impurity, yet the new nature
is so contrary to it that it will never rest or be quiet, but
will always be cleansing itself; like a vessel of fermenting
liquor, it will continue working, till it has worked itself
clear, and cast off all the filth and sediment. Or like a
stream of good water; if the water be in itself sweet and
good, however it may be defiled from the muddy banks,
it will refine as it runs, and will run itself clear again, but
the fountain that yields impure water will never cleanse
itself. So he who is pure in heart will never suffer himself
to live in any sin. If he be overtaken in a fault he will
return and cleanse himself again by repentance, and re
formation, and a more earnest care that he may avoid that
sin for the future.
The remaining corruption that is in his heart will be his
great and continual burden, and he will be endeavouring
to cleanse himself more and more ; he will not rest in any
supposed degree of purity, so long as he sees any degree
of impurity remaining, but he will be striving after progress
in the mortification of sin and in the increase of holiness.
5th. The heart is said to be pure, especially with respect
to its cleanness from, and opposition to, the lust of unclean
ness. This kind of wickedness we find to be more especially
called uncleanness and filthiness in Scripture ; it brings a
peculiar turpitude upon the soul, and defiles the temple of

God. 1 Cor. iii. 17. " If anv man defile the temple of
God, him shall God destroy : for the temple of God is
holy, which temple ye are." Pureness in Scripture is
sometimes used only in this restrained sense, with respect
to freedom from fleshly impurities. So it seems to be,
Phil. iv. 8. " Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true,
whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report ; if there be any
virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things;"
Now this sort of purity of heart is absolutely necessary
in order to our coming to see God. There must be a re
nunciation of all impure and lascivious practices and con
versation. They who live in the indulgence of such a lust
in one kind of practice or another, or though it be only
with their eyes or in their thoughts, are of impure hearts,
and shall never come to see God unless they have new
hearts given them.
They that have pure hearts, abhor and are afraid of such
things. Jude 23. They take heed that they do not prosti
tute their souls to so much as mental and imaginary, much
less to practical, impurities, and works of darkness".
Secondly. The heart is said to be pure, in respect to its
being endowed with positive qualities, that are of a con
trary nature to spiritual filthiness.
Though purity in strictness be only a freedom from filth,
yet there are positive qualities of mind that seem to be
implied in purity of heart; which may be reckoned a part
of it, because of their contrariety to filthiness. The heart
by reason of them is still more remote from defilement, as
a greater light may be said to be purer than a lesser ; for
although the lesser light has no mixture of darkness, yet
the greater light is still more remote from darkness.
1st. He is pure in heart, who delights in holy exercises.
Those exercises that are holy are natural and pleasant to
him, he sees the beauty there is in holiness, and that beauty
has such strong influence upon his heart that he is capti
vated thereby. He delights in the pure and holy exercise
of love to God, in the fear of God, in praising and glorify
ing God, and in pure and holy love to men. He deligbts
in holy thoughts and meditations. Those exercises of the
understanding that are holy, are most agreeable to him,
and those exercises of the will. Such inclinations, desires,
and affections, are most delightful, which are spiritual and
holy. 2d. He is pure in heart, who chooses and takes the
greatest delight in spiritual enjoyment. A spiritual appe
tite is that which governs in his soul, and carries him above
the mean lust and defiled enjoyments of this world, towards
spiritual and heavenly objects. The enjoyments which he
chooses and chiefly desires, such as seeing God and enjoy
ing communion with him, are enjoyments of the most re
fined and pure nature. He hungers and thirsts after the
pure light of the new Jerusalem.
2. To be pure in heart is the sure way to obtain the
blessedness of seeing God. This is the divine road to the
blissful and glorious presence of God, which, if we take it,
will infallibly lead us thither.
God is the giver of the pure heart, and he gives it for
this very end ; that it may be prepared for the blessedness
of seeing him. Thus we are taught in the Scriptures.
The people of God are sanctified, and their hearts are made
pure, that they may be prepared for glory, as vessels are
prepared by the potter for the use he designs. They are
elected from all eternity to eternal life, and have purity of
heart given them, on purpose to fit them for that to which
they are chosen. Rom. ix. 23. " And that he might make
known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy,
which he had afore prepared to glory."
We read of the church being arrayed in fine linen, clean
and white, by which is signified the church's purity ; and
it was to fit it for the enjoyment of Christ. Rev. xix. 7, 8.
" Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him ; for
the marriage ofthe Lamb is come, and his wife hath made
herself ready ; and to her was granted that she should be
arrayed in fine linen clean and white : for the fine linen is
the righteousness of the saints." And in the 21st. chap.
2d verse, the church thus purified, is said to be as a bride
adorned for her husband. " And I, John, saw the holy
city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven,

912

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." Therefore
if God gives the pure heart to fit and prepare us for the
vision of himself, he will obtain his own end ; for who can
prevent him from doing what he purposes ?
God also hath promised it. He hath given his faithful
word for it in our text ; and to the same purpose is Psal.
xxiv. 3, 4. " W'bo shall ascend into the hill ofthe Lord ?
and who shall stand in his holy place ? He that hath clean
hands, and a pure heart ; who hath not lifted up his soul
unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully." And again, Isa.
xxxiii. 15, 16, 17. " He that walketh righteously, and
speaketh uprightly : he that despiseth the gain of oppres
sion, that shaketh his hands from holding of bribes, that
stoppeth his ears from hearing of blood, and shutteth his
eyes from seeing evil ; he shall dwell on high : his place
of defence shall be ihe munition of rocks : bread shall be
given him ; his water shall be sure. Thine eyes shall see
the king in bis beauty ; they shall behold the land that is
very far off."
3. This is the only way to come to this blessedness.
First. It is no way fit or Suitable that those who have
not pure hearts, should be admitted to this privilege. It
would be most unsuitable for those who are all over defiled
with the most loathsome filth, to be admitted into the
glorious presence of the King of heaven and earth. It
would not become the majesty of God, to allow those
who are so abominable to come into his blessed presence ;
nor is it at all becoming his holiness, whereby he is of
purer eyes than to behold such pollution.
It becomes persons when they come into the presence of
a king, so to attire themselves, that they may not appear
in a sordid habit, and it would be much more unsuitable
still, for any to come all defiled with filth ; but sin is that
which renders the soul much more loathsome in the sight
of God. This spiritual filth is of a nature most disagree
able to that pure, heavenly light; it would be most un
suitable to have the pollution of sin and wickedness, and
the light of glory, mixed together; and it is what God
never will suffer. It would be a most unbecoming thing
for such to be the objects of God's favour, and to see the
love of God, and to receive the testimonies of that love.
It would be most unsuitable for the glorious and most
blessed God to embrace in the arms of his love, that that is
infinitely more filthy than a reptile.
Secondly. It is naturally impossible that the soul which
is impure should see God. The sight of God's glory, and
impurity of heart, are not compatible in the same subject.
Where spiritual defilement hoids possession of the heart,
it is impossible that the divine light which discovers God's
glory should enter. How can he, who is under the power
of enmity against God, and who only hates God, see his
beauty and ioveliness at the same time? Sin, so long as
it has the government and possession of the soul, will
blind the mind and maintain darkness. As long as sin
keeps possession, the heart will be blinded through its
deceitfulness. Thirdly. If it were possible for them to see God, they
could not find any blessedness in it. What pleasure
would it give to the soul that hates holiness, to see the
holiness of God ; what pleasure to them who are God's
enemies, to see his greatness and glory ? Wicked men
have no relish for such intellectual, pure, and holy delights
and enjoyments. As we have observed already, to have a
relish for spiritual enjoyments, is one part of the purity of
heart spoken of in the text.
Fourthly. It is impossible that such should be the ob
jects of God's favour and complacence, and therefore they
cannot have this part of the blessed-making vision of God,
viz. the seeing of his love. It is impossible that God
should take pleasure in wickedness, or should have com
placence in the wicked, and therefore they cannot have the
blessed-making vision of God, for seeing the love of God
is an essential part of it. If a man sees bow glorious God
is, and has not this consideration with it, that he has a
property in this glory of God ; if he cannot consider this
glorious being as his friend ; if he takes no pleasure in
him, but, on the contrary, loathes and abhors him, the
sigbt of God will be to him no blessedness.

APPLICATION.

1. Hence we learn how great a thing it is to be an up
right and sincere Christian ; for all such are pure in heart,
and stand entitled to the blessedness of seeing the most
high God. The time is coming w hen they shall assuredly
see him ; they shall see him wbo is infinitely greater than
all the kings "of the earth ; tbey shall see him face to face,
shall see as much of his glory and beauty as the eyes of
their souls are capable of beholding. They shall not only
see him for a few moments, or an hour, but they shall
dwell in his presence, and shall sit down for ever to drink
in the rays of his glory. They shall see him invested in
all this majesty, with smiles and love in his countenance;
thev shall see him, and converse with him, as their nearest
and best friend.
Thus shall they see him soon. The intervening moments
fly swiftly, the time is even at the door, when they shall
be admitted to this blessedness.
2. Let the consideration of this subject put us all upon
inquiring, whether we ourselves are pure in heart. Is our
religion of that kind which has its seat chiefly in the heart,
or doth it chiefly consist in what is outward in morality
and formality ? Have we ever experienced a change of
heart ; have we a right spirit renewed within us ; have we
ever seen tbe odiousness and filthiness that there is in sin ;
is it what we hate, wherever we see it ; and do we espe
cially hate it in ourselves, and loathe ourselves for it; is
it the object of our hatred as sin, and as it is against God ?
And are there any that now hear me, who think them
selves to be Christians, who do yet, either in their imagina
tions and thoughts, or in any secret practice, allow and
indulge the lust of uncleanness, and live in such a way ?
If it be so, they had great need to bethink themselves
whether or no they are not of that generation that are pure
in their own eyes, and yet are not cleansed from their
filthiness. If they imagine that they are pure in heart, and
live in such wickedness, their confidence is vain presump
tion. Inquire whether holy exercises and holy employ
ments are the delight of your soul, and what you take
pleasure in above all other things in which you can be
engaged. Are the enjoyments that you choose, and take
the greatest delight in, spiritual and heavenly enjoyments?
Is the seeing of God, and conversing with him, and dwell
ing in his presence for ever, what you should of your own
accord choose above all other things ?
3. I would earnestly exhort those who hear me, to make
to themselves a pure heart. Though it be God's work to
give it, vet it is as truly your work to obtain it; though it
be God's work to purify the heart, yet the actual, or rather
the active, procuring of it is your act. All pure and holy
exercises are man's acts, and they are his duty. Therefore
we are commanded to make us a new heart, and a right
spirit. Ezek. xviii. 31. " Cast away from you all your
transgressions, whereby ye have transgressed, and make
you a new heart and a new spirit ; for why wiil ye die?"
We must not think to excuse ourselves by saying that
it is God's work, that we cannot purify our own hearts ;
for though it be God's work in one sense, yet it is equally
our work in another. James iv. 8. " Draw nigh to God,
and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye
sinners, and purify your hearts, ye double-minded." If
you do not engage in this work yourselves, and purify
your own hearts, they never will be pure. If you do not
get a pure heart, the blame of it will be laid to your
own backwardness. The unclean soul hates to be puri
fied ; it is opposite to its nature ; there is a great deal of
self-denial in it. But be content to contradict the nature
and bent of your own heart, that it may be purified ; how
ever grating it may be to you at first, yet consider how
blessed the issue will be. Though the road be a little
rough in the beginning, yet it will grow pleasanter and
pleasanter, till at last it will infallibly lead to that light
some and glorious country, the inhabitants of which do see
and converse with God. Prov. iv. 18. " But the path of
the just is as the shining light that shineth more and more
unto the perfect day." If you would be in the way to
have a pure heart,
1 . Purify your hands : cleanse yourself from every ex-

SERMON X.

913

temal impurity of speech and behaviour ; take heed that
you never defile your hands in known wickedness ; break
off all your sins by righteoasness ; and take heed that you
do not give way to impure lusts that would entice to sinful
actions. If you set about the work of cleansing yourself,
but when a temptation comes then plunge yourself into the
mire again, you never will be likely to become pure ; but
you must be steady in your reformation and the amend
ment of your ways and doings.
2. Take heed you do not rest in external purity, but
seek purity of heart in the ways of God's appointment ;
seek it in a constant and diligent attendance on all God's
ordinances. 3. Be often searching your own heart, and seek and

pray that you may see the filthiness of it. If ever you
are made pure you must be brought to see that you are
filthy ; you must see the plague and pollution of your own
heart. 4. Beg of God that he would give you his Holy Spirit.
It is the Spirit of God that purifies the soul. Therefore
the Spirit of God is often compared to fire, and is said to
baptize with fire. He cleanses the heart, as fire cleanses
the metals; and burns up the filth and pollution of the
mind, and is therefore called the Spirit of burning. Isa. iv.
4. " When the Lord shall have washed away the filth of
the daughters of Zion, and shall have purged the blood of
Jerusalem from the midst thereof by the spirit of judgment,
and by the spirit of burning."

SERMON X.

THANKSGIVING SERMON, Nov. 7, 1734.
Rev. xiv. 2.
And I heard a voice from heaven, as the voice qf many
waters, and as the voice qf a great thunder ; and I heard
the voice qf harpers harping with their harps.
We may observe in these words, (1.) What it was that
John heard, viz. the voice and melody of a company prais
ing God. It is said in the next verse that they sung a new
song before the throne. (2.) Whence he heard this voice,
" I heard," says he, " a voice from heaven." This com
pany that he heard praising God was in heaven. It is said
in the following verse, " They sung this song before the
throne, and before the four living creatures, and the elders :"
but the throne of God, and the four living creatures, and
the four and twenty elders, are all represented in these
visions of John, as being in heaven. So that this voice
was the voice of the heavenly inhabitants, the voice of the
blessed and glorious company that is in heaven, before the
throne of God there. (3.) The kind of voice, which is here
set forth in a very lively and elegant manner ; it is said to
be as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty
thunders, and as the voice of harpers harping with their
harps. Hereby several things are represented in a very
striking manner. 1. The distance of the voice. 2. That it
was the voice of a vast and innumerable multitude : so
that it was as the voice of many waters. How naturally does
this represent the joint, continual, and loud voice of a vast
multitude at a distance, that it resembled the voice of many
waters. 3. The loudness of the voice. It was as the voice
of many waters, and as the voice of a great thunder; which
describes the extraordinary fervency of their praises, and
how lively and vigorous they were therein, and how that
every one praised God with all* his might. They all, join
ing together, sung with such fervency, that heaven did as it
were ring with their praises. The noise of thunder, and
the roaring of many waters, are the most great and majestic
sounds ever heard upon earth, and are often spoken of in
the Scriptures as tbe mightiest sounds. John could not
distinctly hear what they sang, but they being in heaven, at
a great distance, he knew not what better to compare it to,
than to tbe roaring of the sea, or a great thunder. Yet, 4.
It was a melodious sound, signified by this expression, I
heard the voice of harpers harping witb their harps. The
harp was a stringed instrument, that David made much
use of in praising God. John represents the matter thus
to us, That the voice which he heard, being at a great dis
tance, it was indistinct ; and being of such a vast multi
tude, and sucb a migbty fervent voice, that it seemed in
some measure like distant thunder, or the roaring of water,
and yet be couid perceive the music of the voice at the
same time : though it was in some respects as thunder and
vol. ii. 3 N

the noise of water, yet there was a sweet and excellent
melody in it. In short, though these comparisons of which
John makes use, to signify to us what kind of a voice and
sound it was that he heard, are exceedingly lively and ele
gant; yet this seems to be evident from them, that what he
heard was inexpressible, and that he could find nothing
that could perfectly represent it. That a voice should be
as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of a great
thunder, and yet like the voice of harpers, is to us not easi
ly to be conceived of. But the case was, that John could
find no earthly sound that was sufficient to represent it ;
and therefore such various and different similitudes are ag
gregated and cast together to represent it. But thus much
seems to be signified by it, that it seemed to be the voice
of an innumerable multitude, and that they were exceed
ingly fervent and mighty in their praises : that the voice of
this multitude was very great, and exceedingly full of ma
jesty, and yet a most sweet and melodious voice at the
same time.
Doctrine. The work of the saints in heaven doth very
much consist in praising God.
1. Proposition. The saints in heaven are employed ;
they are not idle ; they have there much to do : they have a
work before them that will fill up eternity.
We are not to suppose, when the saints have finished
their course and done the works appointed them here in
this world, and are got to their journey's end, to their
Father's house, that they will have nothing to do. It is
true, the saints when they get to heaven, rest from their
labours and their works follow them. Heaven is not a
place of labour and travail, but a place of rest. Heb. iv. 9.
There remaineth a rest for the people of God. And it is a
place of the reward of labour. But yet the rest of heaven
does not consist in idleness, and a cessation of all action,
but only a cessation from all the trouble and toil and
tediousness of action. The most perfect rest is consistent
with being continually employed. So it is in heaven.
Though the saints are exceedingly full of action, yet their
activity is perfectly free from all labour, or weariness, or
unpleasantness. They shall rest from their work, that is,
from all work of labour and self-denial, and grief, care, and
watchfulness, but they will not cease from action. The
saints in glory are represented as employed in serving God,
as well as the saints on earth, though it be without any
difficulty or opposition. Rev. xxii. 3. " And there shall
be no more curse : but the throne of God and of the Lamb
shall be in it ; and his servants shall serve him." Yea, we
are told, that they shall serve God day and night, that is,
continually or without ceasing ; Rev. vii. 15. " Therefore
are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and
night in his temple." And yet this shall be without any
manner of trouble, as it follows in the next verse. " They
shall bunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall
the sun light on them nor any heat." In this world saints
labour, as it were, in the wearisome heat of the sun ; but

914

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

there, though they shall still serve God, yet shall the sun
not light on them nor any heat. In one sense, the saints
and angels in heaven rest not day nor night, Rev. iv. 8.
that is, they never cease from their blessed employment.
Perfection of happiness does not consist in idleness, but on
the contrary, it very much consists in action. The angels
are blessed spirits, and yet they are exceedingly active in
serving God. They are as a flame of fire, wbich is the
most active thing that we see in this world. God himself
enjoysinfinite happiness and perfect bliss, and yet he is not
inactive, but is himself in his own nature a perfectact, and is
continually at work in bringing to pass his own purposes and
ends. That principle of holiness that is in its perfection in
the saints in heaven, is a most active principle; so that
though they enjoy perfect rest, yet they are a great deal
more active than they were when in this world. In this
world they were exceedingly dull, and heavy, and inactive,
but now they are a flame of fire. The saints in heaven are
not merely passive in their happiness. They do not
merely enjoy God passively, but in an active manner.
They are not only acted upon by God, but they mutually
act towards him, and in this action and re-action consists
the heavenly happiness.
II. Proposition. Their employment consists very much
in praising God.
John the beloved disciple had often visions of heaven,
and in almost every instance had a vision of the inhabit
ants as praising God. So in the fourth chapter he tells us,
that he looked, and behold, a door was opened in heaven,
and he was called up thither, and that he saw the throne
of God and him that sat on the throne ; and there he gives
us an account how those that were round about the throne
were praising God ; the four living creatures rest not day
nor night, saying, Holy, holy, holy Lord God Almighty,
which was, and is, and is to come. And when those liv
ing creatures give glory and honour and thanks to him,
the four and twenty elders fall down before him and wor
ship him, &c. &c. Again in the fifth chapter, we have an
account how they sing praises to Christ, 8, 9, &c. And so
in the seventh chapter, 9, 10, 11, 12 verses. And in the
eleventh chapter, 16, 17 verses. And in the twelfth
chapter, 10th verse. And in the fifteenth chapter, 2, 3, 4
verses. And in the beginning of the nineteenth chapter
we have an account how the hosts of heaven sing hallelu
jahs to God. By all which it most evidently appears, that
their work very much consists in praising God and Christ.
We have but a very imperfect knowledge of the future state
of blessedness, and of their employment : without doubt
they have various employments there. We cannot reason
ably question but thev are employed in contributing to
each other's delight. They shall dwell together in society.
They shall also probably be employed in contemplating on
God, his glorious perfections, and glorious works, and so
gaining knowledge in these things. And doubtless they
will be employed many ways, that we know nothing of:
but this we may determine, that much of their employment
consists in praising God, and that for the following reasons.
1. Because they there see God. This is a blessedness
promised to the saints, that they shall see God. Matt. v.
8. That they see God, sufficiently shows the reason why
they praise him. They that see ' God cannot but praise
him. He is a Being of such glory and excellency, that the
sight of this excellency of his will necessarily influence
them that behold it to praise him. Such a glorious sight
will awaken and rouse all the powers ofthe soui, and will
irresistibly impel them, and draw them into acts of praise.
Such a sight enlarges their souls, and fills them with ad
miration, and with an unspeakable exultation of spirit.
'Tis from the little that the saints have seen of God, and
know of him in this world, that they are excited to praise
him in the degree they do here. But here they see but as
in a glass darkly ; they have only now and fben a little
glimpse of God's excellency ; but then they shall have the
transcendent glory and divine excellency of God set in
their immediate and full view. They shall dwell in his
immediate glorious presence, and shall see face to face.
1 Cor. xiii. 12. Now the saints see the glory of God but
by a reflected light, as we in the night see tbe light of the
sun reflected from the moon ; but in heaven they shall
directly behold the Sun of righteousness, and shall look

full upon him when shining in all his glory. This being
the case, it can be no otherwise, but that they should very
much employ themselves in praising God. When they
behold the glorious power of God, they cannot but praise
that power : when they see God's wisdom that is so won
derful, and infinitely beyond all created wisdom, they can
not but continually praise that wisdom ; when they view
the infinitely pure and lovely holiness of God, whereby ihe
heavens themselves are not pure in comparison with him,
how can they avoid with an exalted heart to praise that
beauty of the divine nature! When they see the infinite
grace of God, and see what a boundless ocean of mercy
and love he is, how can they but celebrate that grace with
the highest praise !
2. They will have another sense of the greatness of the
fruits of God's mercy than we have here in this world.
They will not only have a sight of the glorious attributes
of God's goodness and mercy in their beatific vision of
God, but they will be sensible of ihe exceeding greatness
of the fruits of it ; the greatness of the benefits that he has
bestowed. They will have another sense ofthe greatness
and manifoldness of the communications of his goodness
to his creation in general. They will be more sensible
how that God is the fountain of all good, the Father of
lights, from whom proceeds every good and perfect gift.
We do now but little consider, in comparison with what we
should do, how full the world is of God's goodness, and
how it appears in the sun, moon, and stars, and in the earth
and seas, with all their fulness, and wheresoever we turn
our eyes, and how all ranks and orders of being, from the
highest angel to the lowest insect, are dependent upon, and
maintained by, the goodness of God. These the saints iii
heaven clearly see; they see how the universe is replenish
ed with his goodness, and how the communications of his
goodness are incessantly issuing from God as from an ever-
flowing fountain, and are poured forth all around in vast
profusion into every part of heaven and earth, as light is
every moment diffused from the sun. We have but faint
imperfect notions of these things, but the saints in heaven
see them with perfect clearness. They have another sense
of the greatness of God's goodness to mankind, and to the
church, and to them in particular, than any of us havel
They have another sense of the greatness of God's good-i
ness in the temporal mercies which God bestowed upon
them while they were here in this world, though they know
that spiritual mercies are infinitely greater. But especially
they have an immensely greater sense of the exceeding
greatness of the fruits of God's grace and mercy bestowed
in redemption. They have another sense how great a gift
the gift of God's only-begotten Son is. They have another
sense of the greatness and dignity of the person of Christ;
and how great a thing it was for him to become man, and
how great a thing it was for him to lay down his life,
and to endure the shameful and accursed death of the
cross. They have another sense how great the benefits are1
that Christ has purchased for men, how great a mercy it is
to have sin pardoned, and lobe delivered from the misery
of hell. They have another sense how dreadful that misery
is, for the damned are tormented in the presence of the
holy angels and saints, and they see the smoke of their tor
ment ; and have another sense what eternity is, and so are
proportionably more sensible how great a mercy it is to be
delivered from that torment. They have another sense
how great a fruit of God's grace it is to be the children of
God, and to have a right and title to eternal glory. They
are sensible of the greatness of the benefits that Christ has
purchased, by their experience; for they are in possession
of that blessedness and glory that he has purchased ; they
taste the sweetness of it : and therefore they are more sen
sible what cause they have to praise God for these things.
The grace and goodness of God in the work of redemption,
appears so wonderful to them, that their thoughts of it do
excite them to the most ardent praise. When they take a
view of the grace of God and of the love of Christ in re
demption, they see that there is cause that they should
exert the utmost of their capacities, and spend an eternity
in praising God and the Lamb. It is but a very little that
we at best can conceive of the greatness of the benefits of
redemption, and therefore we are but little affected by it,'
and our praises for it are low and dull things.

SERMON X.

915

3. Another reason is, they will be perfect in humility.
In order to a person's being rightly disposed to the work of
praise, he must be an humble person. A proud person is
for assuming all praise to himself, and is not disposed to
ascribe it to God. lt is humility only that will enable us
to say from the heart, " Not unto us, not unto us, O Lord,
but unto thy name be the glory." The humble person
admires the goodness and grace 'of God to him. He sees
more how wonderful it is that God should take such
notice of him, and show such kindness to him, tbat is so
much below his notice. Now the saints in beaven have
this grace of humility perfected in them. They do as
much excel the saints on earth in humility as in other
graces. Though they are so much above the saints on
earth in holiness and in their exalted state, yet tbey are
vastly more humble than the saints on earth be. They
areas much lower in humility as they are higher in honour
and happiness. And the reason of it is that they know
more of God ; they see more of his greatness and infinite
highness, and therefore are so much the more sensible of
their own comparative nothingness. They are the more
sensible of the infinite difference there is between God and
them ; and therefore are more sensible how wonderful it
is that God should take so much notice of them, to have
such communion with them, and give them such a full
enjoyment of him. They are far more sensible what un
worthy creatures they have been, that God should bestow
such mercies upon them, than the saints on earth. Tbey
have a greater sight of the evil of sin. They see more wbat
filthy vile creatures they were by nature, and how dread
fully they provoked God by actual sin, and how they have
deserved God's hatred and wrath. The saints in heaven
have as much greater a sense of their unworthiness in their
natural state than the saints on earth, as they have a greater
sense of God's glorious excellency, for it is the sight
of God's excellency which gives them a sight of their
own unworthiness. And therefore they do proportionally
admire the love of God to them in giving Christ to die for
them, and the love of Christ in being willing to offer him
self for their sins ; and of the wonderful mercy of God in
their conversion, and bestowing eternal life upon them.
The humble sense the saints have of then; own unworthi
ness, doth greatly engage and enlarge their hearts in praise
to him for his infinite mercy and grace.
4. Their love to God and Christ will be perfect. Love
is a principal ingredient in the grace of thankfulness.
There is a counterfeit thankfulness in which there is no
love. But there is love in exercise in all sincere thankful
ness. And the greater any person's love is, the more will
he be disposed to praise. Love will cause him to delight
in the work. He that loves God, proportionably seeks
the glory of God, and loves to give him glory. Now the
hearts of the saints in heaven are all, as it were, a pure
flame of love. Love is the grace that never faileth ; whe
ther there be prophecies, they shall fail, whether there be
knowledge, it shall vanish away. Faith shall cease in
vision, and hope in fruition, but love never faileth. The
grace of love will be exalted to its greatest height and
highest perfection in heaven ; and love will vent itself in
praise. Heaven will ring with praise, because it is full of
love to God. This is the reason that great assembly, that
innumerable host, praise God with such ardency, that their
praise is as tbe voice of many waters, and as the mighty
thunderings, because they are animated by so ardent,
vigorous, and powerful a principle of divine love.

APPLICATION.
I. This subject may be applied in the way of instruc
tion. 1. Hence we may learn the excellency of this work of
praising God. That it is a most excellent employment,
appears, because it is a heavenly employment. It is that
work wherein the saints and angels are continually
employed. If we sincerely and frequently praise God, we shall
therein be like the heavenly inhabitants, and join with
them. That it is the work of heaven shows it to be the most
3 n 2

honourable work. No employment can be a greater
honour to a man, than to praise God. It is the peculiar
dignity of the nature of man, and the very thing wherein
his nature is exalted above things without reason, and
things without life ; that he is made capable of actively
glorifying his Creator. Other creatures do glorify God ;
the sun, moon, and stars, and the earth and waters, and
all the trees of the field, and grass and herbs, and fishes
and insects, do glorify God. Psal. xix. 1 — 6. Job xii. 7,
8. But herein is the peculiar dignity of the nature of
man, that he is capable of glorifying him as a cause, by
counsel, understandingly and voluntarily, which is a hea
venly work.
2. This doctrine may give us an idea of the glorious and
happy state of the saints in heaven. It shows how joy
fully and gloriously they spend their time. Joy is a great
ingredient in praise. There is an exultation of spirit in
fervent praise. Praise is the most joyful work in the
world. And how joyful a society are they that join
together, so many thousands and millions of them, with
one heart and one soul, to sing a new song before the
throne, that fill heaven with their glorious melody ! How
joyful they are in their work, appears in the text, by their
fervency in it, so that their voices resounded as the voice
of many waters, and as the voice of a great thunder.
What ineffable joy was there in those harpers whom John
heard harping with their harps !
This snows how different a state the saints are in in
heaven, from what they are in this world. Here much
of the work to which the saints are called, consists in
labouring, in fighting, in toilsome travelling in a waste
howling wilderness, in mourning and suffering, and in
offering up strong crying and tears. But there m heaven,
their work continually is to lift up their joyful songs of
praise. This world is a valley of tears, a world filled with sighs
and groans. One is groaning under some bodily pain,
another is mourning and lamenting over a dear departed
friend ; another is crying out by reason of the arm of the
oppressor. But in heaven there is no mixture of such
sounds as these ; there is nothing to be heard amongst
them but the sweet and glorious melody of God's praises.
There is a holy cheerfulness to be seen throughout that
blessed society. Rev. xxi. 4. " And God snail wipe
away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more
death, neither sorrow nor crying." They shall never have
any thing more to do with sighing and crying ; but their
eternal work henceforward shall be .praise.
This should make us long for heaven, where they
spend their time so joyfully and gloriously. The saints
especially have reason to be earnestly breathing after
that happy state, where they may in so joyful a manner
praise God.
3. This may put natural persons upon reflecting on
their own state, that they have no part nor lot in this mat
ter. You are an alien from the commonwealth of Israel.
You are not one of the people of God. You do not belong
to their society, that are to spend their eternity after that
joyful manner, which you have now heard. You have no
rigbt nor portion in heaven. If you hereafter come and
offer yourself to be admitted into this blessed society, in
your present state ; if you come and try to be admitted,
you will be thrust out ; you will be driven away. If you
come and knock, and cry to be admitted to the wedding,
saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us, all will be to no pur
pose ! You will hear no other word except Depart .' You
shall be shut out into outer darkness. You sball not be
permitted to sing among the children, but shall be driven
out, to howl among dogs. Rev. xxii. 14, 15. " Blessed
are they that do his commandments, that they may have
a rigbt to the tree of life, and may enter in through the
gates into the city ; for without are dogs," &c. You are
in danger of spending eternity, not in joyfully singing
praises, but in a quite contrary manner ; in weeping, in
wailing, and gnashing of teeth ; and blaspheming God
because of your pains and because of your plagues. You
shall see others coining from the east and the west, and
sitting down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the
kingdom of God ; taking their places among that blessed,
happy society, and joining their voices in their heavenly

916

OCCASIONAL SERMONS

h

music. But you see your lot; you shall have other work
to do. Isa. lxv. 14. " Behold, my servants shall sing for
oy of heart ; but ye shall cry for sorrow of heart, and
owl for vexation of spirit."
II. In the way of exhortation.— If it be so that
E raising God is very much the employment of heaven,
ence let all be exhorted to the work and duty of praising
God. The following considerations will show why we
should be stirred up by this doctrine to this work.
1. Let it be considered that the church on earth is the
same society with those saints who are praising God in
heaven. There is not one church of Christ in heaven, and
another here upon earth. Though the one be sometimes
called the church triumphant, and the other the church
militant, yet they are not indeed two churches. By the
church triumphant, is meant the triumphant part of the
church ; and by the church militant, the militant part of
it : for there is but one universal or catholic church. Cant.
vi. 9. " My dove, my undefiled, is but one." Christ has
not two mystical bodies. 1 Cor. xii. 12." The body is one,
and hath many members." The glorious assembly and
the saints on earth make but one family. Eph. iii. 15.
" Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is
named." Though some are in heaven, and some on earth,
in very different circumstances, yet they are all united :
for there is but one body, and one spirit, and one Lord
Jesus Christ. One God and Father qf all, who is above
all, and through all, and in all. God hath in Christ united
the inhabitants of heaven, and the holy inhabitants of this
earth, and hath made them one. Eph. i. 10. " That in
the dispensation of the fulness of time, he might gather
together in one all things in Christ, both which are in
heaven, and which are on earth, even in him." Heaven
is at a great distance from the earth : it is called a far
country. Matt. xxv. 14. Yet the distance of place does
not separate them so as to make two societies. For though
the saints on earth, at present, are at a distance from
heaven, yet they belong there ; that is their proper home.
The saints that are in this world are strangers here ; and
therefore the apostle reproved the Christians in his day,
for acting as though they belonged to this world. Col. ii.
20. " Why, as though living in the world, are ye subject
to ordinances ?"
Some of a people may be in their own land, and some
in a strange land ; and yet be but one people. Some of a
family may be at home, and some sojourning abroad ;
and yet be but one family. The saints on earth, though
they be not actually in heaven, yet have their inheritance
in heaven, and are travelling towards heaven, and will
arrive there in a little time. They are nearly related to
the saints in heaven ; they are their brethren, being chil
dren of the same Father, and fellow-heirs with Jesus
Christ. In Ephes. ii. 19. the saints on earth are said to be
fellow-citizens with the saints, and qf the household of God.
And the apostle tells the christian Hebrews, Heb. xii.
22 — 24. that they were " come to mount Zion, and to the
city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an
innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly
and church of the first-born, which are written in heaven,
and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of )ust men
made perfect." But how were they come to this heavenly
city, and this glorious assembly, when they were yet here
on earth ? They were come to them, ere they were brought
and united to them in the same family. But this is what I
would inculcate by all this, that the church of God on
earth ought to be employed in the same work with the
saints in heaven, because they are the same society : as
they are but one family, have but one Father, one in
heritance ; so they should have but one work. The church
on earth ought to join with the saints in heaven in their
employment, as God hath joined them in one society by
his grace.
We profess to be of the visible people of Christ, to be
Christians and not heathens, and so to belong to the
universal church. We profess therefore to be of the same
society, and shall not walk answerably to our profession,
unless we employ ourselves in the same work.
2. Let it be considered, that we all of us hope to spend
an eternity with the saints in heaven, and in the same work
of praising God. There is, it may be, not one of us but

who hopes to be a saint in heaven, and there continually
to sing praises to God and the Lamb ; but how disagree
able will it be with such a hope, to live in the neglect of
praising God now ! We ought now to begin that work
whicb we intend shall be the work of another world ; for
this life is given us on purpose that therein we might pre
pare for a future life. The present state is a state of pro
bation and preparation; a state of preparation for the
enjoyments and employment of another, future, and eter
nal state ; and no one is ever admitted to those enjoyments
and employments, but those who are prepared for them
here. If ever we would go to heaven, we must be fitted
for heaven in this world ; we must here have our souls
moulded and fashioned for that work and that happiness.
They must be formed for praise, and they must begin their
work here. The beginnings of future things are in this
world. The seed must be sown here ; the foundation
must be laid in this world. Here is laid the foundation of
future misery, and of future happiness. If it be not begun
here, it never will be begun. If our hearts be not in some
measure tuned to praise in this world, we shall never do
any thing at the work hereafter. The light must dawn in
this world, or the sun will never rise in the next. As we
therefore all of us would be, and hope to be, of that
blessed company which praise God in heaven, we should
now inure ourselves to the work.
3. Those works of God's mercy for which the saints in
heaven will chiefly praise him, have been wrought amongst
us in this world.
The mercy and grace of God for which the saints in
heaven will chiefly praise him, is his mercy exercised in
the work of redemption, which work has been wrought out
in this world. This love of God is the chief object of their
admiration, and what they chiefly contemplate, and that
employs their most ardent praises.
The grace of Christ, about which their praises will be
principally employed, is that he should so love sinful man
as to undertake for him, to take upon him man's nature,
and lay down his life for him. We find that is the subject
of their praises, in Rev. v. 8, 9. " And when he had taken
the book, the four living creatures, and the four and twenty
elders, fell down before the Lamb, having every one of
them harps, and golden vials full of odours, which are
the prayers of saints ; and they sang a new song, Thou
art worthy, for thou hast redeemed us to God by thy
blood." They will chiefly praise God for these fruits of his mercy,
because these are the greatest fruits of it that ever have
been ; far greater than the glorifying of saints. The saints
in heaven will praise God for bestowing glory upon them ;
but the actual bestowment of glory upon them, after it has
been purchased by the blood of Christ, is in no measure
so great a thing as the purchasing of it by his blood. For
Christ, the eternal Son of God, to become nian, and to lay
down his life, was a far greater thing than the glorifying of
all the saints that ever have been, or ever will be glorified,
from the beginning of the world to the end of it. The
giving Christ to die, comprehends all other mercies: for
all other mercies are through this. The giving of Christ
is a greater thing than the giving of all things else for the
sake of Christ. This evidently appears, from Rom. viii.
32. " He who spared not his own Son, but delivered him
up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give
us all things 1" So that the work of redemption is that
for which the saints in heaven do chiefly praise God. But
this work has been wrought here, among us in this world.
" The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us." The
incarnation of Christ was a thing that was brought to pass
in this world, and the sufferings and death of Christ were
also accomplished on earth. Shall heaven be filled with
praises for what was done on earth, and shall there be no
praises on earth where it was done ?
4. If you praise God sincerely in this world, it will be
a sign that you are really to be one of those that shall
praise him in heaven. If any man be found sincerely
glorifying God, he will in due time be brought to them,
as one who is fit to be of their company. Heaven is the
appointed place of all sincere praisers of God ; they are
all to be gathered together there. And no man can sin
cerely praise God, unless he be one of those who are re-

SERMON X.

917

deemed from among men, one that God has separated from
the rest ofthe world, and set apart for himself
5. If we begin now to exercise ourselves in the work of
heaven, it will bejhe way to have foretastes of the enjoy
ments of heaven. The business and the happiness go to
gether. This will be the way to have your heart filled
with spiritual joy and comfort. If you heartily praise
God, you shall rejoice in him, and he will show you more
of himself, of his glory and love, that you may still have
greater cause of praise.
I proceed to give some directions for the performance
of this work.
1. Be directed, in order to your acceptably performing
this duty, to repent of your sins, and turn to God. If
you have not a work of conversion wrought in you, you
will do nothing to any purpose, in this work of praise. An
unconverted person never once sincerely or acceptably
praises God. If you would do the work of the saints in
heaven, you must be, not only in profession, but really,
one of tbeir society ; for there are none else can do their
work. As in the verse following the text : " And they
sung as it were a new song, before the throne, and before
the four living creatures, and the elders ; and no man
could learn that song, but the hundred and forty-four
thousand, which were redeemed from the earth." A hun
dred and forty-four thousand is a mystical number for the
church of God, or the assembly of the saints, or those that
are redeemed from the earth. There is no man can learn
the song that they sing in heaven, but those of that number.
It is beyond the reach of all natural men, let them be
persons of ever so great abilities and sagacity. They never
can learn that heavenly song, if they be not of that number.
For it is only the sanctifying, saving instruction of the
Spirit of God, that can teach us that song.
2. Labour after more and more of those principles from
whence the praise of the saints in heaven doth arise. You
have already heard that the saints in heaven do praise the
Lord so fervently, because they see him ; labour therefore
that you, though you have not an immediate vision of God,
as they have, may vet have a clear spiritual sight of him,
and that you may know more of God, and have frequent
discoveries of him made to you.
You. have heard that the saints in heaven make praise
so much their work, because of the great sense they have
of the greatness and wonderfulness of the fruits of the
Lord's goodness. Labour therefore to get your minds
more deeply impressed with such a sense.
The saints in glory are so much employed in praise,
because they are perfect in humility, and have so great a
sense of the infinite distance between God and them.
They have a great sense of their own unworthiness, that
they are by nature unworthy of any of the mercy of God.
Labour therefore that you may obtain more of a sense of
your own littleness, and vileness ; that you may see more
what you are, how ill you have deserved at the hands
of God, and how you are less than the least of all his
mercies. The hearts of the saints in heaven are all inflamed with
divine love, which continually influences them to praise
God. Seek that this principle may abound in you, and
then you likewise will delight in praising God. It will
be a most sweet and pleasant employment to you.
3. Labour, in your praises, to. praise God, so far as may
be, in the same manner that the saints do in heaven. Thev
praise him fer-vently, with their whole heart, and witb all
their strength, as was represented in vision to John by the
exceeding loudness of tlieir praise. Labour therefore that
you may not be cold and dull in your praises, but that you
also may praise God fervently.
The saints in heaven praise God humbly. Let it also be

your delight to abase yourselves, to exalt God, and set him
upon the throne, and to lie at his footstool.
The saints in heaven praise God unitedly. They praise
him with one heart and one soul, in a most firm union.
Endeavour that you may thus praise God in union with
his people ; having your hearts knit to them in fervent love
and charity ; which will be a great help to your praising
and glorifying God unitedly with them
III. In the way of reproof to those who neglect the
singing of God's praises. Certainly, such a neglect is not
consonant to the hope and expectation of spending an
eternity in that work. It is an appointment of God, that
we should not only praise in our prayers, but that we
should sing his praises. It was a part of divine worship,
not only under the Old Testament, but the New. Thus
we read that Christ and his disciples sung praises together.
Matt. xxvi. 30. So it is commanded, Eph. v. 19.
" Be ve filled with the Spirit, speaking to yourselves
in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, singing and
making melody in your hearts to the Lord." And Col.
iii. 16. " Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all
wisdom ; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms,
and hymns, and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your
hearts to the Lord." 1 Cor. xiv. 15. " I will sing with
the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also."
So also the saints in heaven are represented as singing
God's praises. And is that their happy and glorious em
ployment ; and yet shall it be so neglected by us, who
hope for heaven ? If there be any of the godly that do
neglect this duty, I would desire them to consider how
discordant such a neglect is. with their profession, with
their state, and with the mercies which God has bestowed.
How much cause has God given you to sing his praise !
You have received more to prompt you to praise God
than all the natural men in the world ; and can you con
tent yourself to live in the world without singing the praises
of vour heavenly Father, and your glorious Redeemer ?
Parents ought to be careful that their children are in
structed in singing, that they may be capable of perform
ing that part of divine worship. This we should do, as
we would have our children trained up for heaven ; for we
all of us would have our children go to heaven.
IV. In the way of consolation to the godly. It
may be matter of great comfort to you, that you are to
spend your eternity with the saints in heaven, where it is
so much their work to praise God. The saints are sensi
ble what cause they have to praise God, and oftentimes
are ready to say, they long to praise him more, and that
they never can praise him enough. This may be a con
solation to you, that you shall have a whole eternity
in which to praise him. They earnestly desire to praise
God better. This, therefore, may be your consolation,
that in heaven your heart shall be enlarged, you shall be
enabled to praise him in an immensely more perfect and
exalted manner than you can do in this world. You shall
not be troubled with such a dead, dull heart, with so much
coldness, so many clogs and burdens from corruption, and
from an earthly mind ; with a wandering, unsteady heart ;
with so much darkness and so much hypocrisy. You
shall be one of that vast assembly that praise God so fer
vently, that their voice is " as the voice of many waters,
and as the voice of mighty thunderings."
You long to have others praise God, to have every one
praise him. There there will be enough to help you, and
join you in praising him, and those that are capable of
doing it ten thousand times better than saints on earth.
Thousands and thousands of angels and glorified saints
will be around you, all united to you in the dearest love,
all disposed to "praise God, not only for themselves, but
for his mercy to you.

918

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

SERMON XI.

Matthew xi. 16, 17, 18, 19.
But wheretmto shall I liken this generation ? It is like
unto children sitting in the markets, and calling unto
their fellows, and saying, We have piped unto you, and
ye have not danced ; we have mourned unto you, and ye
have not lamented. For John came neither eating nor
drinking, and they say, He hath a devil. The Son qf
man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a
man gluttonous, and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans
and sinners. But wisdom is justified qf her children.
The occasion of this discourse was John's sending to
Christ two of his disciples, saying, "Art thou he that
should come, or look we for another ?" When the mes
sengers had gone back, Christ enters into a discourse with
the multitude conceming John, of which the verses read
are a part, in which Christ reproves the unreasonableness
of the Jews m rejecting God's messengers. We may ob
serve in the words the following things :
1. The messengers of God that are here instanced in
that they had been rejected, viz. John the Baptist and
Christ. The former is spoken of in the context as being
on some accounts the greatest of all the prophets that ever
came before Christ, as you may see, ver. 9, 10, 11. " But
what went ye out for to see? A prophet? yea, I say
unto you, and more than a prophet. For this is he of
whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before
thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. Verily
I say unto you, Among them that are bom of women
there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist : not
withstanding he that is least in tbe kingdom of heaven is
greater than he." The latter, even Christ, was the great
prophet of God, the Head and Lord of the prophets, God's
only-begotten Son.
2. In what the unreasonableness of their rejecting these
messengers of God appears, viz. in their inconsistency
with themselves in those objections which they made
against them. And here we may observe,
1st. The nature of their objections against these two
messengers of God ; they objected against their manner of
living with respect to their meat and drink.
2d. The different manner of living of those two mes
sengers of God. Christ came eating and drinking,
but John came neither eating nor drinking, i. e. John
lived on a very coarse and spare diet, as we read,
Matt. iii. 4. "And the same John had his raiment of
camel's hair, and a leathern girdle about his loins ; and
his meat was locusts and wild honey." He carefully ab
stained from that free use of pleasant meats and drinks
that others allowed themselves in. But Christ came eat
ing and drinking, i. e. freely using tlie comforts and enjoy
ments of life, taking indifferently all kinds of food br
drink that were wholesome, comfortable, and lawful. This
diverse manner of living of John the Baptist and Christ,
was agreeable to the diverse errands that they came upon.
John's errand was to call men to repentance, to awaken
them to a sense of their sin and misery, to bring them to
mourn for their sins, and humble themselves before God
for them, that they might be prepared for the comforts and
blessings of the kingdom of heaven that were to be intro
duced by Jesus Christ. A life of abstinence from the
pleasant things of this world was agreeable to the purpose
of awakening the soul, and of leading it to mourning and
humiliation for sin, which it was especially John's business
to preach and set an example of.
But after John had thus prepared the way with awaken
ings and repentance, then Christ came to administer com
fort to those that were thus prepared for it, to preach good
tidings to the meek, to bind up the broken-hearted, to
proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the
prison to them that are bound, to proclaim the acceptable
year of the Lord, to comfort those that mourn ; to appoint

unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty
for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise
for the spirit of heaviness ; that they might be called trees
of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might
be glorified. Isa. lxi. 1, 2, 3. And freely eating and
drinking, and enjoying the comforts and pleasant things of
life, was agreeable to such an errand as this, and therefore
Christ, in his first beginning of his public ministry which
succeeded John's, declares this to be the business he was
come upon. Luke iv. 16, 17, 18, 19. " And he came to
Nazareth, where he had been brought up ; and, as his
custom was, he went into the synagogue on the sabbath-
day, and stood up for to read. And there was delivered
unto him the book of the prophet Esaias : and when he
had opened the book he found the place where it was
written, The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because
he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor ; he
hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliv
erance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind ;
to set at liberty them that are bruised ; to preach the ac
ceptable year of the Lord."
3d. Their unreasonableness appears in the fact, that
though the way of living of these two persons was in this
respect so diverse, yet they objected against both. John
came neither eating nor drinking ; and for that they ob
jected against him, and reviled him, as though he was one
that was very odd and strange, and beside himself, and
under the influence of a diabolical spirit. This objection
seemed to manifest a dislike of such a way of living, as
though it was their opinion that a man ought not to live
thus abstemiously, but should eat and drink freely as
other people did. But yet when Christ came and did
that, then they objected against that too, and bitterly re
proached him for that, and called him a glutton, and wine-
bibber, a friend of puhlicans and sinners. So that there
was no escaping their reproaches. If a man of God lived
a life of trial and abstinence, they spoke of it as matter
of great reproach, and yet if he did not so, they made that
a matter of no less reproach. It was a crime with them
for a prophet to eat and drink, and it was also a crime to
let it alone. So inconsistent were they with themselves,
that there was no such thing as a prophet's suiting them ;
they condemned the doing of that which at the same time
they condemned the not doing of, and both they condemn
ed with great bitterness, and virulent and contemptuous
reproaches. This plainly showed that their objections
against John the Baptist and Christ, were but vain pre
tences, and that the trae reason why they disliked them,
was, not the manner of living of either of them with re
spect to eating and drinking, but because they hated their
persons and tbe business they came upon. When men
have a prejudice against other persons they will be ready
to find fault with every thing in them, they will find out
bad names for their virtues, and'wilt reproach those things
in them which they will approve of and commend in others
to whose persons they have a liking.
3. The thing to which Christ compares their inconsis
tency with themselves, to wit, to children who meet their
companions in the streets or market-places, and endea
vour to aid them in their play, in things of a diverse
and contrary nature ; for if they pipe unto them with
notes manifesting cheerfulness and mirth, that does not
suit them ; they refuse to fall in with this, as though they
did not like such cheerfulness, and as though mouming
would suit them better; and then, when tbey see that
they took a contrary course, they mourned wit- them, but
yet neither do they fell in with that, they do not lament
with them ; so that tbey comfort them in nothing, neither
mirth nor mouming.
So John the Baptist preaching repentance came with
tokens of sorrow and mouming, and mean apparel, with a
garment of camel's hair, and with a leathern girdle about
his loins, and with great abstinence. But Christ when he

SERMON XI.

919

comes, comes eating and drinking with tokens of comfort
and joy ; but neither of them suited them. From the
text thus explained we shall derive the following
Doctrine. Wicked men are very inconsistent with them
selves. They are so in the following respects :
I. The dictates of their darkened understandings are
inconsistent with themselves.
i II. Their wills are inconsistent with their reason.
, III. Their wills are inconsistent with themselves.
IV. Their outward show is inconsistent with tbeir hearts.
V. Their profession is inconsistent with their practice.
VI. Their practice is inconsistent with their hopes.
, VII. Their practice is inconsistent with itself.
I. Their understandings are inconsistent with them
selves. I do not mean, that the faculty of reason and un
derstanding is inconsistent with itself; for the faculty of
understanding with which God has endowed man is
wholly good and right. It is that wherein the natural
image of God consists, and is the excellency of man's
nature ; and if the faculty of reason be duly improved, it
will lead men right. Light is never inconsistent with it
self. But the understandings of natural men are perverted
and blinded by sin, and are inconsistent with themselves
in two ways :
1. Their practical judgment is inconsistent with their
own reason. By their practical judgment, I mean that
judgment which they make of things that prevail, so as to
determine their actions and govern their practice. This
in wicked men is in innumerable things contrary to their
own reason ; for, in forming their judgment of things by
which they govern themselves, they do not inquire at the
mouth of reason, but at the mouth of their inclinations.
Their lusts have a far greater hand in the judgments that
they make of things, and by which they govern themselves,
than their reason. As for instance ; their practical judg
ment is, that the things of this fading world, the enjoyments
of this short life, are things of greater importance than the
things of the eternal world ; and yet if they inquire at the
mouth of their own reason, that tells them the contrary.
Their reason tells them that it is most plain and evident
that eternal things, things that are to last for ever, are of
vastly greater importance than the things of time.
-. So their reason tells them, that it must needs be the part
of wisdom and prudence to improve the present time with
the utmost diligence and earnestness, and to make ready
for death ; and yet they are not convinced of it, but their
governing opinion is, that it is best to neglect the business
of religion for the present, and to enjoy their ease, and
sloth, and lusts awhile longer.
Their reason tells them, that it is well worth the while
for every man to deny himself outward pleasure for the
good of his soul. But their governing opinion or judg
ment is contrary, viz. that it is not best ; and that pleasures,
and the gratification of their lusts, are worth more than
any benefit tbey would obtain by seeking their salvation.
The reason of young people tells them that it is their
true wisdom to improve the time of youth. Reason tells
them that life is very uncertain. But when such persons
hear ministers preach concerning the infinite importance
of eternal things ; the uncertainty of life, the .peace and
comfort that wid be found in a state of happier existence
with God ; are told bow light a thing the difficulty and
sufferings of a holy life are in comparison; their reason
assents to all this,'but their practical judgments are the
contrary. When a person has lately died, either in ex
treme terror and amazement, under a sense of the guilt
of a mispent life, or full of joy and comfort, in consequence
of a life of holy walking with God ; their reason tells
them that it would be well worth their while to labour and
deny themselves all their lifetime to be ready for death,
and to have a solid foundation of peace and comfort laid
up against such an hour. But yet their practice is directly
tn6 rcvsrsG.
2. Some of their judgments of things are inconsistent
with others. For instance, in temporal things, they judge
that the good which is of long continuance is to be pre
ferred before that which is of short continuance, and that
a long-continued calamity is more to be dreaded and
avoided than a short one. Their governing judgment is thus
in these things, but yet it is the reverse in spiritual things.

Again. Such arguments as they judge to' furnish good
and clear evidence with them in those things that are
agreeable to their sinful inclination, they think not to have
any evidence in those things that are contrary to them. In
temporal things they think it to be their wisdom to im
prove times of'special advantage, and to watch against that
which might insnare them, or endanger their welfare, but
in other things they think the reverse. In these things,
and many more that might be mentioned, their judgments
are inconsistent with themselves.
II. Their wills are inconsistent with their reason. This
inconsistence is a consequence of the foregoing ; for if their
practical judgment be contrary to their own reason, it will
follow that their wills are contrary to their reason ; for the
will ever follows the dictate ofthe practical judgment.
Their wills are contrary to their reason in two respects.
1. They will those things which their reason tells them
are inconsistent with their duty ; and so they are incon
sistent with themselves, as their wills are inconsistent with
their consciences. Conscience is a principle implanted in
the heart of every man, and is as essential to his nature
as the faculty of reason, for it is a natural and necessary
attendant of that faculty. But the wills .of wicked
men are contrary to it, and inconsistent with it. They
choose those things which they know to be evil, and ought
not to be chosen ; they choose that which their own reason
tells them is unreasonable and vile, and unbecoming men,
and justly provoking to their Maker, and contrary to the
end for which they are made.
Hence arises an inward war in their own minds : their
wills and their consciences warring one against another.
There is no true peace in their hearts, for they are at war
with themselves, and therefore they are like the troubled
sea that cannot rest, unless by a course of horrible viola
tions of the dictates of their own conscience, they have
proceeded so far in their war against their own consciences
as to stupify conscience, and lay it as it were dead, which
is the case of some persons.
2. They will those things which their reason tells them
are contrary to Iheir own interest, yea, those things which
their own reason tells them are the way to their ruin and
misery. At the very same time that wicked men are
tempted to commit some sin, and their reason then tells
them that it will expose them to the eternal wrath of
God, and that it will therefore be a dreadful folly for them
to do it, yet they will do it. Or when their reason tells
them that the course in which they are going leads to de
struction, and represents to them that it is the greatest
folly, yet they will go on in it, and run the venture of being
everlastingly undone.
So inconsistent are they with themselves, that they do
and allow that of which tbey hope to repent, they choose
that now for choosing which at the same time they expect
and hope hereafter to charge themselves with great folly,
and to be convinced that it is folly, and to lament and be
wail it ; nay, they would not do it, if they did not expect
hereafter to see that it is very foolish in them so to do, and
heartily to mourn for it.
In this respect they are so inconsistent with themselves
that they are their own worst enemies. They are incon
sistent with themselves, as two mortal enemies cannot
consist together, or walk together. By choosing those
things whicb their own reason tells them is contrary to
their own interest, and tends to their own undoing, they,
may be said to hate their own souls, and to love their
own ruin. Prov. viii. 36. " He that sinneth against me,
wrongeth his own soul ; all they that hate me, love
death." III. Their wills and dispositions are inconsistent with
their wills. The Jews would neither have a prophet to
come eating and drinking, nor would they have him
otherwise. They knew not what they would have them
selves, there was no pleasing them. To eat and drink did
not please them; that they reproached as drunkenness,
and gluttony : nor did it please them any more not to eat
nor drink; this they reproached no less virulently, as
though it were an argument that a man was out of his
wits, and possessed by the devil. The inconsistency of
wicked men's wills with themselves appears in the follow
ing things :

920

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

1st. They do, in some respects, choose and refuse the
same things.
I shall mention some instances.
First. In some respects, many of them wish to be con
verted from sin to God. They "think that they should be
ready to give almost all that they have in the world to be
converted, and they pray to God to convert them, and seek
for conversion, and take advice to that end, and use a
great deal of labour for it. But yet if it be considered
what conversion is, or what is meant by conversion, viz.
ihe being turned from all their sins to God ; they have no
desire to be converted, they will not have conversion when
it is offered them, when it comes to them they are not
willing to be saved from sin, for they are not willing to
part with their sins. . When they think of the thing in
the general, they wish that they were turned from sin ; but
when it comes to particulars they cannot comply with it,
they love their sins too well. When a particular lust
comes, and pleads to be indulged and gratified, then in
this instance they have no wish to be converted, they are
not willing to be turned from their sin altogether, they
cannot bear entirely and for ever to renounce and reject it.
They have a wish to be converted, but not from enjoying
their right hands, and right eves. They pray that they
may be thoroughly and savingly converted, and seem to
wish and pray for it ; but yet when it comes to them,
they are not willing for any more than a partial conver
sion. They cannot comply with a thorough conversion,
for a thorough conversion is a turning from every one of
their sins ; and that proves that thev would be willing to
be converted from their sins for a little while, but to part
with them finally is what they cannot find it in their hearts
to comply with.
Secondly. Some wicked men do in certain respects de
sire that a work of humiliation may be wrought in them,
and yet are utterly opposed to humiliation. They do
many things that they may be humbled, and pray that they
may be brought off from their own righteousness, and yet
would by no means let it go, but are indeed building up
their own righteousness aU the time.
They seem in some respects to wish that they might
submit to the justice and sovereignty of God in their con
demnation, but yet are utterly averse to any such thing as
owning God's justice. They are averse to this submissiqn,
as appears from their showing such a spirit of strife will)
God. They do not believe that God is just and sove
reign, and how therefore is it possible that they should
desire really to submit to God's justice and sovereignty ?
They cannot heartily and fervently desire to submit to
God as just and sovereign, when they do not believe that
he possesses those attributes, but think him unjust and
tyrannical. Thirdly. They in some respects wish that they might
come to Christ, but indeed are utterly averse to come to
him, so that tbeir will is in this also inconsistent with
itself. They pray that they may come to Christ, they are
ready to say that they would give all the world for an in
terest in Christ ; and yet they will not have an interest in
him, for that is what is offered them, and what Christ is
continually inviting and urging them to accept, but they
refuse it. It is true they like some things in Christ, they
like salvation from the pains of hell, they like that safety
from everlasting misery which they bear is to be had in
him ; but there are other things in him which they do not
like, his holiness, his salvation from sin, his kingiy office,
and therefore they will not accept him as he is. If they
could have a part of Christ without the rest they would,
but they will not accept of the whole of Christ. Indeed
they are not willing to come to Christ and cordially ac
cept of him as a Saviour from hell, for they do not see
that he is sufficient to save ; and besides, they are not con
vinced that they have deserved it. There is no such thing
as being cordially willing to accept of a Saviour, who
offered to deliver us from an unjust and undeserved pun
ishment ; for the hearty accepting of him as a Saviour
from the punishment, would be allowing the punishment
to be just ; and God's offering a Saviour from undeserved
punishment, is an imposition upon them; a man therefore
can never heartily and sincerely accept such an offer. At
the same time that natural men seem to wish, and pray,

and strive to come to Christ, they are in their hearts bitter
enemies to him ; and there is no such thing as a sincere
willingness to accept of one towards whom at the same
time we are bitter enemies.
Fourthly. Natural men in some respects are desirous to
go to heaven, and yet are averse to heaven. They are full
of designs as to what they will do hereafter that they may
go to heaven, but yet have no inclination to that wherein
heaven really consists. The employments of heaven,
which consist altogether in holy acts and holy contempla
tion, in holy exercises and holy praises, are that for which
they have no desires nor inclination. And for the happi
ness of heaven they have no relish, but on the contrary,
a dislike and an aversion ; for the happiness of heaven
consists in holy communion with God and Christ, to
which their natures are opposite. Nor have they any de
sire for the company of heaven; and when it is observed
what heaven really is, they choose this world before
heaven. Fifthly. They wish to have salvation from misery, but
yet are averse to those things wherein salvation consists ;
and at the same time that they pray to Christ lo serve
them, they undo themselves as fast as they can, they spend
their time daily in working out their own ruin. Thev
pray that they may be delivered from hell, and yet are all
the while piling up fuel, and kindling and blowing the
fire. Thus their wills are inconsistent with themselves, as
they do in some respects choose and refuse the same
things. 2. They dislike and refuse spiritual things as they are,
and yet refuse to have them otherwise. This was the
very case with the Jews in the text, they would not have a
prophet come eating and drinking, if he did so, they looked
on bim very reproachfully; nor yet would they have him
not come eating and drinking, for if he did so they called
him a mad man, and possessed with a devil, which is a
lively specimen of the inconsistency of wicked men, of
which we are speaking.
I will mention several instances of this inconsistency on
the part of wicked men.
First. They do not like God as he is, and yet they
would not like him'if he were otherwise. They would
not like him if he were otherwise than he is in those very
things for which they most dislike him.
1st. They dislike God because he is a holy God. This
is the main foundation of the enmity that wicked men have
against God. His perfect purity and holiness make them
enemies to him, because from this perfection of his nature
he necessarily hates sin, and so hates their sins, which they
love, and he will not and cannot allow of any sin in them.
They are utter enemies to such a holy God. And yet they
would not like him if they supposed him to be an unholy
being, or if they supposed him to be at all wanting in per
fect holiness, for then he could not be depended upon. If
he were unholy, they know that if he promised them any
thing they couid have no certain dependence upon it, for
an unholy being is liable to break his promises ; if he were
unholy they could have no dependence on his faithfulness,
and therefore they would never be willing to give up them
selves to him as their God, for they would not know how
he would dispose of them, what he would do with them.
If he were to obligate himself by covenant, yet they could
have no dependence upon it ; and therefore they would by
no means accept of such a God to be their God, to rule
over them, and dispose of them.
2d. They do not like God, because he is a God of jus
tice. This indeed is a branch of his holiness, for being
strictly and perfectly just, he is disposed to execute just
punishment on all iniquity. Therefore they are exceeding
enemies to him, for they are the persons who are obnoxious,
being those that have committed iniquity, and exposed
themselves to just punishment ; and yet they would not
like God if he were an unjust God. If he were an unjust
being, that would be an insuperable objection with them
against accepting him as their God, for then they would
ihink with themselves, " how do I know how unjustly he
may deal with me ;" and wicked men, however unjust they
are, never like injustice against themselves. And they
never would be persuaded to accept of such a God as their
Lord and King, for they should then expect to be wronged

SERMON XI.

921

and abused by him. They would dread committing them
selves into the hands of a God that is infinite in power,
and can do what he will with them, and has no principle
of holiness or justice to keep him from using that power in
the most unjust and abusive manner towards them.
Though tbey are enemies to God because of his justice,
yet whenever at any time they think God deals unjustly,
they quarrel with him for it. How frequent is it for na
tural men, when there are any of God's methods of provi
dence, the justice of which they cannot see through, to
have their hearts swell with enmity, and to be full of blas
phemous, malignant thoughts against God, if they do not
even manifest it outwardly by a fretful, discontented be
haviour, and murmuring speeches ?
3d. They do not like God, because he is an Almighty
God, and is able to destroy them when he pleases ; nor
yet would they like him if he were a weak being and of
but little power. They would on this account refuse to
close with him as their God, for they would have a God
able to do great things for them ; they wish to have many
things done for them, and they would have a God that can
do them.
4th. They do not like God because he is an omniscient
God, for hereby he sees all their wickedness. But yet
neither would they like him if he did not know all things,
for then in many cases he would not know what their case
is, and what it requires, and what is best for them. He
might ruin them in the disposal of them through mistake,
he might not know how to extricate them out of difficulties
in which they are or may be involved.
5th. Natural men oftentimes dislike God in the exercises
of his infinite sovereign mercy, when it is exercised towards
others. They are greatly displeased at God's being so
gracious to others ; they dislike it much that God bestows
converting grace upon them and pardoning mercy, and a
title. <o eternal life upon them. When they hear of their
conversion it is unpleasant news, and they find fault with
it the more when the persons who seem to have received
such mercy are very unworthy, and have been very great
sinners ; they think of the sins of which they have been
guilty, and reckon up all the instances of wickedness they
can think of, so that the mercy exercised towards them is
the more displeasing because it appears so great in being
bestowed on one so unworthy ; like the elder brother, Luke
xv. 30. " But as soon as this thy son was come, which
hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for
him the fatted caif." And yet they would not like God if
he were not infinitely merciful, for then they would have
less hopes of obtaining mercy themselves. They are angry
because God appears so merciful in the exercises of his
grace to others ; but yet they would have God merciful,
and are at the same time afraid that he is not merciful
enough to be willing to pardon their sins, and bestow his
blessing on them. Thus natural men do not like God as
he is, nor yet would they like him if he were otherwise.
Secondly. They do not like men that are holy, nor yet do
they like men that are wicked. They do not like holy
men, for they know that such do not approve of that which
themselves love, and the lives of the godly are a condem
nation of the wickedness of their own hearts and lives.
Hence there is an enmity between the seed of the woman
and the seed of the serpent. Gen. iii. 15. " And I will put
enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed
and her seed ; it shall bruise thv head and thou shalt
bruise his heel." But although they do not like men if
thev are godly, so neither do they like them if they are un
godly ; they are more forward than the godly are to re
prove others for their vice and wickedness, and bitterly to
reflect on otbers for their pride, their covetousness, and
their idleness. None are more apt to find fault with wick
edness in others than those who are wicked themselves,
and one great reason is that other men's lusts clash with
theirs. Thus one man's pride crosses the pride of another,
for it is the nature of pride to desire to be alone in advance
ment, to make the person in whom it is affect to be a God,
to appropriate all power and all honour to himself as his
own prerogative. But such an aim in one man clashes
with such an aim in another. Hence there are none that
can bear pride in others so ill, as those that are very proud
themselves, and there never are such strife and enmity as

between proud, haughty men. Proud men love to have
others walk humbly before them,and nothing enrages them
so much as to have others carry themselves proudly. For
the same reason covetous men dislike covetous men, for
this lust clashes with the same lust in another. Every
covetous man strives to get all into his own hands, to get
and keep all that he can to himself from his neighbour.
So the lusts of envy, and malice, and revenge, are hated in
others by envious and malicious men ; because none are so
obnoxious to malice, and envy, and revenge, as those that
have the most of these qualities. Hence the wicked
world on earth, who are at enmity with the church of God
for its holiness, do not at all agree together. Though they
agree in being alike under the power of wickedness, yet
how full is the world of wicked men of strife and conten
tion, of perpetual jars, animosities, and confusion ! Rom.
i. 29, 30, 31, 32.'" Being filled with all unrighteousness,
fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness ; full
of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers,
backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, inventors of
evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding,
covenant breakers, without natural affection, implacable,
unmerciful : who, knowing the judgment of God, that they
which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do
the same, but have pleasure in them that do them." So
Titus iii. 3. " For we ourselves also were sometimes fool
ish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and plea
sures, living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating one
another." And hence also it comes to pass that devils and
wicked men in hell, though they hate angels and saints in
heaven for their holiness, nave yet no love one to another;
though they all agree in being perfectly wicked, yet they
hate one another with implacable hatred, and are continual
ly mortifying and tormenting one another; so that hell is a
world of perfect malice and contention.
Thirdly. They refuse to accept of heaven as it is ; yet
they would not like it if it were otherwise. As has been
observed before, they have no relish for the holy enjoy
ments and employments of heaven. They dislike heaven
for its holiness, and yet they would not like it if it were
unholy ; for then they would be liable to the same troubles
and vexations in heaven that they meet with in this world.
If it were not that heaven differs from this world in holi
ness, it- would be as full of pride and malice, envy, revenge,
contention, injustice, violence, and cruelty, as this world is,
and so would be as vexatious a world as this is. Wicked
men are as liable lo the trouble and vexation of the world,
which arise from those things, as godly men, and in some
respects more so, for they have no divine supports against
those things, no safer portion to which their hearts betake
themselves. 3. The things that wicked men choose, imply an incon
sistency in their own nature. The things which they
would have are impossibilities and self-contradictions.
First. They would have a sufficient Saviour, and not a
holy one. They would not have a holy Saviour, because
sucb a Saviour does not at all agree with their lusts; but
yet they would have a sufficient Saviour, one that is suffi
cient to save them from hell, and so one that is sufficient
to make a proper atonement for all their sins, to make full
satisfaction to the justice of God, that they may escape the
penalty of that justice. But these things prove a great in
consistency, for how is it possible that a Saviour, who is
not perfectly holy himself, should make satisfaction for the
unholiness of others ? How is it possible that one who
deserves to suffer the eternal wrath of God himself for his
own sin, should by his sufferings appease God's wrath for
the sins of others ?
They would have a worthy Saviour, as appears in this ;
when they are awakened, and in some measure sensible of
their guilt, they dare not come to Christ, because they can
not see that be has worthiness enough to commend them
to God ; they are afraid that he is not worthy enough ;
and yet they dislike Christ because he is a holy Saviour !
And what an inconsistency is this ! How can he be a
worthy Saviour, and not a holy one ? So that their choice
does in effect contain this inconsistency in it, that they
would have a Saviour who is infinitely worthy, without
worthiness. Secondly. They wish for salvation from misery without

922

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

salvation from sin. They do not love misery any better
than others, and hope lo be saved from it ; and some of
them are in distress for fear of misery ; but yet they would
have it without being parted from their sins : which is in
its own nature impossible, for the creature that is sinful,
must be miserable. For misery consists in separation
from the fountain of happiness, and an enmity between the
creature and the chief good. But sin implies in its own
nature such a separation : it is a separation from that God
who is the fountain of good, and is enmity against him,
and therefore necessarily brings enmity from that being
against the sinner, if it be continued. Sin is the seed of
misery ; misery is the necessary fruit of it. It is necessary
from the nature of God, who, being infinitely holy, neces
sarily hates it, and so necessarily arrays himself against
that being who remains under the pollution and guilt of it.
And it is necessary from the nature of man, and the nature
of sin : misery is the natural fruit of sin, as the bud and
blossom are the natural fruit of that on which they grow,
and is so spoken of, Ezek. vii. 9, 10. " And mine eye
shall not spare, neither will I have pity : I will recom
pense thee according to thy ways, and thine abominations
that are in the midst of thee ; and ye shall know that I am
the Lord that smiteth. Behold the day, behold it is come;
the morning is gone forth ; the rod hath blossomed ; pride
hath budded."
Natural men would be freed from hell without being
saved from sin, which is an inconsistency and impossibi
lity ; for where sin remains the reigning power, it will ne
cessarily kindle up the flames of hell, and will bring on
the torments of hell. Indeed, while men remain in the
body, in the midst of the carnal objects of this world to
engross the mind, lo please the carnal appetites, to stupify
the conscience, and lull the soul asleep, they may avoid
the torments of hell for a little while ; but when the body
comes to be dissolved, and all worldly objects, diversions,
and entertainments come to an end, and the polluted and
guilty soul comes to be stripped and turned out naked,
infernal horror and misery will naturally and necessarily
arise in such a soul. So that there is "no such thing as
being saved from hell, without being saved from sin.
Thirdly. They desire happiness with holiness. Wicked
men have as earnest a desire of happiness as others. Thev
are restlessly saying, " Who will show us any good?"
And yet they are enemies to holiness. Here also they are
inconsistent with themselves, for there is no such thing as
happiness without holiness ; the happiness of the creature
consists in holiness. It is as great an inconsistency to
suppose that a creature should be happy without being
holy, as that a man should enjoy all the strength, and ease,
and activity, and other comforts of health, in sore sickness ;
or that the notes of a tune should be harmonious that are
disproportionate and discordant. So that they would be
happy, and yet would not be happy : the thing they
choose contains as great an inconsistency as if they should
choose light or brightness, consisting in the blackness of
darkness. 4. In things that do most nearly concern them they will
neither choose nor refuse. The things of religion are
things that concern them in the highest degree. It is no
matter of indifference to them, whether they will betake
themselves in good earnest to the business of religion or
not, whether they will obtain heaven, or be content with a
portion in this life. But yet many natural men seem to
remain in suspense about these things all the days of their
¦lives; they are always at a loss, always halting between
two opinions, which Elijah reproves, 1 Kings xviii. 21.
" And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How
long halt ye between two opinions? if the Lord be God,
follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him. And the peo
ple answered him not a word." No wonder that they had
nothing to answer, for their unreasonableness and incon
sistency too manifestly appeared in it. Many, who hear
of these subjects from their infancy, never come to a
'thorough conclusion in their own minds, whether they will
continue to go on in the way to hell, or whether they will
do what must be done to escape it; they neither resolve
that they will forsake all their sins, nor yet that they will
retain them ; they do not determine to hearken to tbe
warnings and counsels given to them, nor yet do they

fully reject them. They have life and death set before
them, one or the other, but they never come to a deter
mination which they will choose. ¦
5. In pursuing the objects which they desire, their lusts
are inconsistent with each other. It has before been shown
that the lusts of one wicked man clash with those of an
other ; but not only is it thus ; some of the lusts of the
same person disagree with other lusts of his. Often,
wicked men's covetousness clashes with their pride; their
pride prompts them to many things that their covetousness
forbids. It would be agreeable to men's pride to make a
splendid show in their houses and apparel, and manner of
living, who yet are not willing, through their covetousness,
to be at the cost of it. So their covetousness often thwarts
their sensuality. Their sensual disposition inclines them
to feast their appetites, but their covetousness will not
allow it.
Sometimes men's sloth and idleness clash with their
other lusts, with their pride, their covetousness, and
sensuality. These lusts draw them one way to obtain
much ofthe world, in order to pamper and gratify them;
but their slothfulness draws another, or rather holds them
and binds their hands from obtaining these things.
IV. The outward show of wicked men disagrees with
their hearts. They very often make an appearance that is
exceedingly different and contrary to what they really are
inwardly. They have the clothing of sheep, but the nature
of wolves. Matt. vii. 15. They are like whited sepul
chres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are
within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness.
They make a show as though they believed the truth of
the gospel, and believed that God was an infinitely great
and an infinitely excellent being ; they make a show of
great respect to God, a show of reverence and love, when
indeed they have no such thing in their hearts, but the
contrary. The outward show they make, which is at war
with their hearts, consists either in their words, or in their
behaviour. The show they make in words is inconsistent with their
hearts. Many of them profess to believe that God is an
infinitely excellent being, when indeed they think lhat the
meanest of their carnal enjoyments is more excellent than
he. They profess to believe that there is another world, a
heaven and a hell, when indeed they realize no such thing.
They profess to believe that Christ is the only Saviour,
and that they can be saved in no other ; and yet they all
the while believe in their hearts that there are other sa
viours, and particularly that they can be saviours for them
selves by their own strength and righteousness.
They do abominably dissemble in the profession tbey
make of the favour of God, and of love to him, and will
ingness to obey him, and desire to glorify him. They have
not a jot of these things in their hearts, but are all the while
wholly under the influence of vile carnal principles in all
that tbey do, and are only aiming at selfish ends and serv
ing their lusts in all.
So did those Jews dissemble that came to Jeremiah, and
desired him to inquire of the Lord. Jer. xiii. 20. " For
ye dissembled in your hearts, when ye sent me unto the
Lord your God, saying, Pray for us unto the Lord our
God ; and according unto all that the Lord our God shall
say, so declare unto us, and we will do it." So did the
Jews of whom we read in the text dissemble. They pre
tended to be enemies of gluttony, and drunkenness, and to
dislike any such thing as associating with sinners ; and so
made a pretence of zeal against wickedness, in their oppo
sition to Christ ; when indeed they were actuated by a love
to wickedness, and were enemies to Christ, for the sake of
his holiness. So they pretended to be influenced by enmity
against the devil in their opposition to John the Baptist,
who they pretended had a devil ; when indeed it was not
enmity against the devil, but against God . Many pretend
a great deal of love to God in what they do, when it is
only love to the world at bottom. Ezek. xxxiii. 31. " And
they come unto thee as the people cometh, and they sit
before thee as my people, and, they hear thy words, but
they will not do them.: for with their mouth they show much
love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness."
The show which they make in their prayers, is quite in
consistent with their hearts. Their very approach to God

SERMON XI.

923

in this duty has a show of religion in it without the reality.
And those things they say in their prayers are hypocritical
dissembling pretences. They profess honour, 'reverence,
trust, humility, a sense of unworthiness, repentance towards
God, trust in Christ as a Mediator, a willingness to forsake
sin, from which they pray to be delivered, and thankful
ness for the divine mercies. In this manner tbey resemble
the Jews spoken of in Isa. xxix. 13. " Wherefore the Lord
said, Forasmuch as this people draw near me witb their
mouth ; and with their lips do honour me, but have re
moved their heart far from me, and tbeir fear toward me is
taught by the precept of men ;" and in Ps. lxxviii. 36, 37.
u Nevertheless they did flatter him with their mouth, and
tbey lied unto him with their tongues. For their heart was
not right with him, neither were they stedfast in his cove
nant.' And many of them make a show in words, in
conversation with their neighbour, that is quite inconsistent
with their hearts. They are forward in religious conversa
tion, in giving an account of their experience in a show of
zeal, merely to be seen of men, their God is themselves,
their own honour, and the esteem of men. It is them
selves whom thev love and honour in every thing, and not
God. 2. They often make that show in their external behaviour
that is inconsistent with their hearts. Many who are
destitute of the least spark of love to God, and are at utter
enmity with him, will make a great show of respect to him
in many things in their behaviour. They may put on a
religious saint-like visage, may seem devout in keeping the
sabbath, and in their attendance on religious duties and
the ordinances of worship, may in some things be very
strict, and may appear to do all from a holy respect to
God. So it was of old with the Israelites. Isa. lviii. 1,
2, 3. " Cry aloud, spare not; lift up thy voice like a
trumpet, and show my people their transgression, and the
house of Jacob their sins. Yet they seek me daily, and
delight to know my ways, as a nation that did righteous
ness, and forsook not the ordinance of their God : they
ask of me the ordinances of justice ; they take delight in
approaching to God. Wherefore have we fasted, say they,
and thou seest not ? wherefore have we afflicted our soul,
and thou takest no knowledge ? Behold, in the day of your
fast ye find pleasure, and exact all your labours."
So did the Pharisees of old. Tbey made a great show
of love and holy regard to God in their behaviour ; they
abounded in religious duties, they fasted twice a week, and
they were very strict in many things. They were so in
many duties of the moral law, they were not extortioners,
nor unjust, nor adulterers ; and they were exceedingly exact
in duties of the ceremonial law. They gave tithes of all
that they possessed, and so exact were they in paying
tithes, that they tithed all the herbs of their gardens, as
mint, anise, and the like, and put on an exceedingly
religious countenance, and wore a righteous garment for a
show of great humility ; and yet had no love to God in
tlieir hearts, but were a generation of vipers, and most
bitter enemies to God and Christ, and cruel persecutors of
good men.
The practice of wicked men is often very inconsistent
with their profession.
It is so, whether we look at the profession which they
make in common with others who are brought up under
the light of tbe gospel, or at the distinguishing and extra
ordinary profession which some of them make.
1. If we look at the professions which they make in com
mon with the generality of those who are brought up under
the gospel. These do in general profess that there is a
God, an infinitely great and holy God, who hates sin ; and
who is every where present, who always sees them, has his
eye continually upon them, sees what they do in secret
as well as what is done openly; a God, who not only
knows all their words and actions, but sees all their
thoughts, and who is able to do what he pleases with them,
and can save or destroy them as he will.
But how does the practice of the greater part of them
consist with their profession, when they live in direct oppo
sition to bis commands ; when they live as though there
were no God that had the care and government of the
world ; and as tbough he were not a holy God, but alto
gether such an one as themselves, liking ways of sin as

well as they ; or as though they thought him a weak being;
and not able to do them any great matter of hurt ; or as
though they thought they were stronger than he, and should
be able to make their part good with him another day ?
1 Cor. x. 22. " Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy ? are
we stronger than he ?"
How does that wickedness, which many persons who
are brought up under gospel light commit in 'secret, those
abominable secret practices of which many young people
are guilty, agree with their professing that God is every
where present? These things they do not commit openly
for fear of human punishment, oi- for fear of shame and
disgrace among men ; and yet they commit them boldly,
and live on them in tbe sight of God, upon whose favour
they profess that their happiness infinitely more depends
than on the esteem of men.
They profess to believe lhat there is another world, and
a future judgment, and that they must in a little time stand
before the judgment-seat of God, to give an account of
themselves to him ; and that then the hidden things of
darkness shall be brought to light, and the counsels of the
heart made manifest ; and that then God will call them to
a strict account of their improvement of their time, and all
their talents, and that for every idle word men must give
account in the day of judgment ; and that then every man
shall have his state everlastingly and unalterably fixed by
the sentence of the great Judge, according to ihe thing's
done in the body ; that tbey who have done well shall be
invited into heaven, where they shall enjoy honour,- and
glory, and pleasure unspeakable for evermore, and that
they who have done evil, shall be sentenced and sent down
to hell, into everlasting fire, with the devil and his angels,
where they shall endure unspeakable torments, as in a
furnace of fire, without any end, or any hope, and that they
shall have no rest day nor night ; and that tbeir souls shall
be fixed in one or other of those states in a little time, as
soon as ever tbe body dies.
Now how does their practice consist with such a profes
sion, while they live idle, careless lives, little troubling
themselves about the good of their souls, and have their
hearts and pursuits after the vanities of the world, just as
if they never expected any other world but this, going on
in sins against the plainest commands, and loudest warn
ings, and fullest light, and conviction of their own con
science ? How does tbis consist with the profession of a
belief, that they must in a little time be called to give
account of themselves to God ? Would any spectator who
should judge only by their practice, in the least imagine
tbat these men expected within a few years to burn in
everlasting fire, if they did not please and serve an in
finitely holy God, and to be received to an everlasting
paradise of blessedness if they did ; could he be per
suaded to think that such men are in heart, as they profess
to be, the followers of the meek, holy, and humble Lamb
of God, of bim who laid down his life for his enemies ?
2. If we look at the profession which some of them
make of special and distinguishing experiences of the in
fluence of God's grace in their hearts, their practice is
very inconsistent with tlieir profession. Persons may
make a profession of such experiences, and yet be carnal
and wicked men. So did some of the Galatians, of whom
the apostle was afraid, lest he had bestowed upon them
labour in vain ; they professed great experience of the
sweetness and blesse'dness which is to be bad in religion,
and experienced in the truths of the gospel. Gal. iv. 11,
15. "I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you
labour in vain. Where is then the blessedness ye spake
of? for I bear you record, that, if it had been possible, ye
would have plucked out your own eyes, and have given
them to me. At their first seeming conversion, they ap
peared to be exceedingly lifted up with their new light,
and full of joy and comfort, and full of affection ; but by
this expostulation of the apostle it appears that their lives
afterwards did notwell agree with their profession. Some
wicked men may profess that tbey have seen their own
utter insufficiency and helplessness, their own vileness and
wickedness, and' have been brought to God's footstool
self-emptied and self-abased, as wretched, miserable, poor,
blind, and naked. But yet how ill does their walk and
life agree with such a profession 1 In this none appear

924

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

fuller of themselves than they ; none seem to manifest
more of a spirit of self-sufficiency, and of dependence on
their own righteousness, or more high cohceit of their
own goodness, or are more ready to say to others, " Stand
by thyself, come not nigh to me, for 1 am holier than
thou ; " none appear in their walk and conversation further
from lying in the dust as being poor in spirit than they.
So it was with the Pharisees, they pretended to be extra
ordinarily emptied of themselves, and to have a 'low
thought of themselves, in their wearing a rough garment,
and in so often keeping days of fasting ; and yet none
were more self-righteous and self-sufficient than these very
men, who are set forth in sacred history as living examples
of self-righteousness to all succeeding ages.
So some of them may profess that they have had great
discoveries made to their souls of God's glory and excel
lency, and that they have seen how much more glorious
God is than all earthly things. But if it be so, why do
not they cleave to God, and follow him, rather than other
things ? If they have known God to be so much more
excellent than the things of the world, because they have
had acquaintance with God, why do thev in their practice
cast off God for the sake of the things of the world ; why
do they in their practice prefer a little of the world, a little
worldly gain, a. little worldly honour, or a little worldly
convenience or pleasure, before God ? Certainly, if God
be more excellent than the whole world, as they profess
that they have seen him to be, then surely he is worth
more than so small a part of the world.
So they may tell what love they have found in their
hearts to God, how they have found their hearts drawn
out in love to him at different times. But if they love
him so well, why do they take no more care to please
him ; why are they so careless of his honour, and of their
duty to him ; why do they allow themselves in practices
which they know he hates, and utterly forbids ?
So they may profess that they have seen the truth of
the gospel, and that they not only think, but know, that
the Scripture is the word of God. But if it be so, why
do they not take more heed to it? why do they live not
only as if they were not certain of it, but as if they were
certain of the contrary ? If they know that those com
mands which are in the Bible are the commands of God,
then they are worthy of the greatest regard ; if they know
that those promises and threatenings which are found there,
are the promises and threatenings of God, then surely
they should be of great weight with us. Why do they
seem to be of so little weight with them ?
So they may tell how God has manifested his love to
their souls, has given his Spirit to witness with their spirit
that they are the children of God, and that they have much
communion with God. But if God has done such great
things for them, and they are admitted to such unspeakable
privileges above others, surely they ought to do more than
others. They should not appear more camal, and careless,
and unchristian in their temper and walk than other men
who make no such pretences. Thus wicked men's practice
is very often inconsistent with their profession, agreeably
to Titus i. 16. "They profess that thev know God, but in
works they deny him ; being abominable and disobedient,
and to every good work reprobate."
VI. Their practice is inconsistent with their hope of
eternal life. Men in general who live in christian coun
tries, hope to go to heaven, and there to possess eternal
glory with God, and Christ, and holy saints and angels,
though some of them have a much more confident hope
than others. Some of them think that God has already
made over this glory to them by firm promises, they
look on heaven as their own, they think they belong to
that world, and have an inheritance reserved there for
them. But the practice of wicked men is very inconsistent with
such a hope, it is very displeasing to that God, and tbat
glorious Redeemer, with whom they hope to spend tbeir
eternity in heaven. Though they live wickedly, yet they
hope in a little time to go to be with an infinitely boly
God, to be received by him with perfect approbation and
delight, to be near to him, and to dwell in the courts of his
love. They hope to enter into that same holy of holies,
into which Christ the forerunner of saints has entered, and

there to dwell, there to be as a pillar in the temple of
God, to go no more out. Yea, tbey hope there to sit in
that heavenly holy of holies, to be admitted to a higher
privilege than the high priests were of old in the earthly
holy of holies, who were admitted only to appeal' in the
holy of holies once a year. What holiness was expected
of the high priests of old who were admitted to this privi
lege ! What holiness then may well be expected of those
who hope to be admitted to a so much greater privilege !
Their wicked life is very unsuitable to that state of heaven.
Those who are in heaven are all perfectly holy, and so
must they become if ever they go to heaven ; they will
perfectly bate all wickedness, and perfectly delight in the
contrary. How disagreeable therefore is the hope of
spending eternity in such a heaven, to their wallowing
like swine in the filth and mire of sin, and feeding with
such eagerness and delight on the loathsome objects of
their lusts, as worms feed with pleasure on the loathsome
carcass !
Their wicked life is very unfit for the company of hea
ven, with which they must spend an eternity, if ever they
arrive there, even with the holy angels and saints. Heb.
xii. 22, 23. "But ye are come unto mount Sion, and unto
the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to
an innumerable company of angels ; to the general as
sembly and church of the first-born, which are written in
beaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of
just men made perfect." How disagreeable is a camal,
worldly, sensual, impure life, to a hope of being one of
such an assembly as this to all eternity !
Their wicked life is very disagreeable to the eternal
business of heaven, which' consists in employing their
faculties altogether on holy objects, in employing their
understandings in viewing and contemplating the holy
perfections of God, and his wonderful works, and their
wills and affections in loving God, and delighting them
selves in him, and their whole souls in praising and serving
him. Rev. xxii. 3, 4. "And there shall be no more curse :
but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it;
and bis servants shall serve him ; and they shall see his
face ; and his name shall be in their foreheads." How in
consistent is a life spent in this world in the service of lust
and of the devil, to a hope of spending eternity in such a
holy manner as this 1
Their wicked life is unfitted for the pleasure and enter--
tainment of heaven, which consist in delighting and
rejoicing in God, in loving him, and in holy communion
with bim. How unsuited to a hope of enjoying such a
happiness as this throughout eternity, is it to place all
one s delight and happiness here in hoarding up worldly
pelf, in gratifying the bodily appetites and sensitive de
sires, and in those pleasures that are common to the cattle
and the swine ?
Wicked men hope to spend their eternity in that world,
which is a world of perfect peace and love, and to dwell
there for ever, where are no jars nor strife, but perfect
agreement, harmony, and love for ever. Yet many
of them live a life of malice and contention in this world,
are very often in one strife or other, and always carry
about in their breasts a malice and hatred towards some
of their neighbours, and towards some of those same
persons with whom they pretend to hope to spend their
eternity in such perfect love and amity. If we in our
thoughts compare the life that many men actually live in
this world, with that life which they hope to live in an
other world, how ill do they consist together ; how dis
agreeable and shocking is the comparison, or the union of
them in our thoughts ! How many are there who now are
drunkards or unclean persons, or who live in the neglect
of secret prayer, and who cast off fear and restrain prayer
before God ; and how many that are mere earth-worms in
covetousness and eagerness after the world; how many
proud men whose God is their earthly honour; how many
wrathful men who spend their days in hatred of their
neighbour ; how many such are there who hope in a little
time to be with an infinitely holy God, in his glorious pre
sence, in his holy of holies, and with Jesus Christ, and in
the arms of his love, and to be of the assembly of holy
angels and saints in perfect purity, holiness, and love, lov
ing, contemplating, and admiring God's glory, and enjoying

SERMON XI.

925

unspeakable blessedness in communion with God 1 Thus
wicked men's practice disagrees with their hopes.
VII. The practice of wicked men is inconsistent with
itself. 1 . Their practice at one time is inconsistent with their
practice at another. They are not of a piece with them
selves at different times, but are such as the apostle James
compares to " a wave of the sea, driven of the wind and
tossed;" and such as he called " double-minded." Atone
time they are of one mind, with respect to the things of
religion ; and at another, of another ; and so have one
mind against another. It is so with false professors of re
ligion ; they are not stedfast in God's covenant, nor in the
practice of religion. At one time they may seem to be
much affected with the things of religion, and greatly en
gaged in their spirits about it, as though they could even
pluck out their own eyes for God and Christ's sake, may
be full of religious conversation, and may seem forward in
religious deeds. But, if we observe them, all their good
ness is as the morning cloud, all their religiousness is over,
and they appear as carnal, and senseless, and as irreligious
as ever ; their religious affections are all gone, their reli
gious practice is gone, aud " it is happened unto them
according to the true proverb. The dog is turned to his
own vomit again ; and the sow that was washed to her
wallowing in the mire."
So it is with the hearers, that hear the word of God, and
anon with joy receive it, but in time of temptation fall
away. So it was with many of Christ's followers ; they
followed him for a while, and by and by left him.
There were some who seemed to believe in Christ and
followed him for a while; but Christ did not commit him
self to them, he knew they were of an unstable mind, and
would not be consistent with themselves. Some of them
were for a while greatly affected with his preaching and
with the miracles that be wrought, and it is said of them
that they glorified God who had given such power to men,
and said, " Never man spake like this man." John vii.
46. And it seems as though some of the same Jews who
had their affections so raised when Christ was com
ing into Jerusalem, and who cried, " Hosannah to the son
of David, blessed is he that cometh in the name of the
Lord ;" did presently after cry, " Crucify him, crucify
him 1" There are many professors like those, and like the
Israelites, that sang God's praise, and soon forgat his works,
and waited not for his counsel, that " turned back, and
dealt unfaithfully like their fathers : they were turned
aside like a deceitful bow ;" that is, a bow that missed the
mark to which it seemed to direct the arrow. The arrow
seems to be pointed right, as though it would hit the
mark, but yet the bow unexpectedly tends quite another
way. There are many disciples like Judas, who was at
one time a disciple, and a traitor at another. It is com
monly so that when false professors come to be tried by
any remarkable allurements of the world, or by special
difficulties which they meet with in the way of duty, that
their practice at such times is quite inconsistent witb their
practice at other times. While times are smooth, and the
way plain, and the external practice of religion seems to be
consistent with their worldly interests, they are very re
ligious ; but when times are changed, and they cannot be
religious without seeing them crossed, they appear quite
another sort of men.
Thus their practice at one time is inconsistent with their
practice at another.
2. Their practice in some things is inconsistent with their
practice in others at the same time.
First. Their moral and religious practice in some things
does not consist with their irreligious and impure practice
in others. False professors are very commonly widely dif
ferent in this respect from those who are sincere and up
right. Sincere Christians are universally holy ; they have
regard to all God's commands ; it is their sincere desire,
aim, and endeavour to do their duty in every respect. But
it is generally far otherwise with hypocrites ; in some things
they are like Christians, in others like heathens. Some
times they appear earnestly religious in duties that imme
diately respect God, as in attending ordinances, and in
appearing devout in external duties ofthe first table; but

in duties that respect their neighbour, tliere is but little
appearance of Christianity. Some behave themselves like
saints in God's house, and like devils at home. Some seem
to be very religious abroad, in the house of God, and also
at the houses of their neighbours, at private meetings, and
in religious conferences ; but if you follow them into their
own families, and observe their carriage there towards those
who dwell under the same roof, towards their wives, or
husbands, or children, or servants, their behaviour there
does not at all consist wilh the other. So some may carry
themselves well in their families, and yet are wretchedly
negligent of the religion of the closet. Some seem to be
religious men, who are not honest men ; some are honest
men, and are not religious. They are willing to pay their
debts, to speak the truth, and to avoid all knavish actions,
all low and underground management; but as. to religion,
or to seeking God in the religious use of his ordinances,
andin reading his holy word, in meditation and prayer,
there is but little of this to be seen in them.
Some are honest men with respect to strict commuta
tive justice, but they are not charitable men ; they are
selfish, covetous, close, and unmerciful. Some seem to be
generous and liberal, and yet are very proud and haughty ;
their honour is their God. Some are very strict and exem
plary as to all that can be seen of men, but secretly they
iive in some abominable practice. So their practice does
not consist with itself; it is not of a piece. God com
plains of this self-inconsistence in Israel of old. Hosea
vii. 8. " Ephraim hath mixed himself among the people ;
Ephraim is a cake not turned." " He hath mixed him
self among the people ;" that is, he was conversant with
the heathen nations, and mingled the religion and customs
of an Israelite with those of the heathen ; so that he was
inconsistent with himself, he was partly an Israelite and
partly a heathen. " He is a cake not turned," alluding to
their custom of baking cakes on the hearth, or in the sun ;
wbere, if tbey were not turned, one side would be baked,
and the other raw. So thev on one side seemed to appear
religious, and like saints, but on the other, wicked and
impure. So it was with the Pharisees ; in some things
they appeared eminently religious, but in others thev be-
baved themselves as some of the vilest of men. Matt.
xxiii. 14, 23. " Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypo
crites ! for ye devour widows' houses, and for a pretence,
make long prayers; therefore ye shall receive the greater
damnation. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypo
crites ! for ye pay tithe of mint, and anise, and cumin, and
have omitted the" weightier matters of the law, judgment,
mercy, and faith : these ought ye to have done, and not to
leave the other undone." A ; true saint is sanctified
througbout, in soul, body, and spirit ; he has put off the
old man witb his deeds, and has put on the new man ; he
is all over a new creature. He has not only a new hand
and head, but he is a new man, all the membere are new.
But hypocrites are monsters ; they have a saint's tongue,
and a devil's heart. The members do not well consist
together. They are inconsistent with themselves as they go
about to serve two masters, God and Mammon, which
Christ has taught us to be a great inconsistence. They
are alike inconsistent as the Samaritans were, who would
serve the God of Israel and their own god too. 2 Kings
xvii. 28, &c. "Then one of the priests, whom they had
carried away from Samaria, came and dwelt in Bethel,
and taught them how tbey should fear the Lord. Howbeit
every nation made gods of their own, and put them in the
houses of the high places which the Samaritans had made,
every nation in their cities wherein they dwelt." _
There is the like inconsistence in them as was in Judas,
who betrayed Christ with a kiss. How ill did those two
things in Judas consist together, his coming to him and
kissing him, his seeming to show himself his friend, and at
the same time betraying him to death ! But it was no
greater inconsistency than is commonly found with hypo
critical professors, who carry themselves as Chnst s friends,
and as though he were very dear to them in some things,
and yet act the part of mortal enemies in others, and bv
their wicked behaviour do indeed betray his cause and
interest. . . . .
Secondly. Their wicked practice in one thing is incon
sistent with their wicked practice in others. It is a

926

OCCASIONAL SERMONS

common thing for wicked men to quarrel with God for
permitting those things which they allow themselves, and
practise with delight. It is common for wicked men to
ascribe the blame of their wickedness to God, therein fol
lowing their first father, Adam. So men will often lay
the blame of their being unconverted, and having lived so
wicked a life, so carnal, careless, and evil a life, to God,
and especially under conviction, to quarrel with God for
it ; and yet tbey approved of those things which they did
themselves, witb full consent and approbation.
And again. It is common for wicked men to contend
with men, and hate their neighbour, for doing the same
thing that they do themselves, and allow in themselves.
So an unjust man, a backbiter and reviler, a revengeful
man, will condemn in others the sin which he allows in
himself. And so, many other instances might be men
tioned. And thus I have showed through all the in
stances proposed, how wicked men are inconsistent with
themselves. APPLICATION.
1 . Hence we may see the woeful ruin which sin has
brought on the nature of man. Man was not thus in his
first estate. If we had nothing but the light of nature, or
the light of our own reason, to guide us, that would be
sufficient to lead us to conclude that man in his first estate
was not made thus by his Creator, who has made other
things in such excellent order and harmony. We see that
God hath so made the world, that one thing sweetly har
monizes with another, all things are adapted to each other,
the nature of one thing to the nature of another ; one thing
to be subservient to another ; and all things subject to the
laws that the Creator has fixed.
We therefore, without the Scripture, should have all
reason to conclude that man, the most noble of all the
creatures in the visible world, was not made in this state
of woeful inconsistency with himself; so that all the facul
ties of his nature are at war with each other, and at war
with themselves ; so that now there is nothing but the
most dreadful confusion to be seen.
But the Scripture teaches us plainly that God saw all
things that he bad created and made, and behold, they
were very good ; and particularly that God made man up
right, and that it is himself that has brought ruin on his
own nature. In man's first estate all things were in per
fect order in his nature. There shone such a light in his
understanding as led him to right judgments of things, all
the dictates of his understanding were consistent one with
another. And then his reason, the superior faculty, kept
its place, and bare rule in him over the other faculties,
and there was no principle or faculty of his nature but
what was subject to its dictates, nothing rose up in rebel
lion against it. His will then was agreeable to his reason,
and agreeable with itself; there was a perfect harmony
between his outward appearance and his inward charac
ter ; his mouth and his heart and his mouth and practice
then agreed together, and his practice then was of a
piece ; until he ate of the forbidden fruit, all was in per
fect order, and peace, and decorum, both within and
without. But what was the consequence when man hearkened to
the devil, and rebelled against his Maker ? We learn, by
what has been said under this doctrine, that then the Spi
rit of God departed from him, and with his influence,
God's holy image also, the life, the crown, and glory of
his nature left him, and all light, and regularity, and order
were gone, and a worse darkness and confusion succeeded
than was in the primitive chaos when it was without form
and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep.
And such is the woeful confusion of tbe nature of all men
now in their fallen state. Now their reason determines
one thing, and their governing practical judgment the re
verse of it ; and their judgment in some things is utterly
inconsistent with their judgment in others. Now the will
is in no consistency with the reason, but commonly de
termines directly contrary to its dictates. Men's wills are
in such bondage and slavery to their lusts, that tbey are
not only determined contrary to their own consciences to
choose those things* which tbeir reason tells them are un

just, and vile, and unbecoming their nature, but also those
things which their reason at the same time declares to be
exceedingly against their own highest interest, even so as
to tend to their everlasting perdition. Yea, their disposi
tions are not only contrary to their own reason and con
sciences, but contrary to themselves ; there is not only war
between faculty and faculty, but the very same faculty is at
war with itself, so that they do in some respects choose and
refuse the same things at the same time. There are some
things that they seem earnestly to wish for, and yet indeed
are at the same time utterly averse to and refuse, and will
by no means accept of when offered ; yea, they will not
have them though they are urged, and entreated, and
pleaded with for years together to accept of them. So
inconsistent are their dispositions with themselves, that
they will not have spiritual and divine things as they are,
nor yet will they have them otherwise. They do not like
God as he is, they find abundance of fault with him, they
are urged to accept of him as their God, but they will by
no means comply with it. They reject bim, and have an
enmity against him ; tbey love to keep at a distance from
him, and to have as little as possible to do with him, and
will not hearken to him, or submit to him, but are ever
maintaining a kind of warfare against him, because they
do not like him as he is. And yet they would not like
him if he were any otherwise. If it were possible that he
could be altered from what he is in any respect whatso
ever, they would refuse to accept of him as their God
then. They are enemies to him because he is so holy
and just a God, and yet they would not like him if he
were unholy and unjust ; they do not like his almighty
power, and yet they would not like bim if he were weak.
They also dislike his knowing all things, and yet they
would dislike him if he were ignorant. They quarrel with
God for the exercise of his infinite mercy and grace to
others, and the more for its being so great in some in
stances, in being exercised towards those who are so un
worthy ; and yet they would not like him if he were not
infinitely merciful ; they would wish him to be merciful
enough to pardon the most unworthy, and yet sometimes
quarrel with him because he is no more merciful.
,Now there is a similar inconsistency in them with them
selves in that they do not like men for being godly; they
have an enmity against such sort of men : and at the same
time, they do not like those who are godly, they hate men
for beingwicked, and will have a bitter spirit against them
for it. The world in its fallen state cannot agree with the
church of God ; it has always had a spite against it, and
has almost always from the beginning of the world hitherto
been persecuting it ; and yet neither can they agree among
themselves, but are at the same time contending and quar
relling with one another. And as there is no suiting them
in this world, so neither is there any suiting them in ano
ther ; they would neither go to heaven, nor to hell. They
do not like heaven because it is holy ; and yet they would
not like it if it were a world of wickedness. And such
is the jarring and confusion that is in their disposition,
that those things that they do choose are impossibilities,
and self-contradictions, and self-inconsistencies. They
would have a sufficient Saviour and not a holy one ; they
would have one good, and excellent, and holy enough to
save them, and yet would not have one with any holiness
at all. They have a mind to have salvation from misery,
without salvation from sin ; when sin is tbeir misery. They
have a mind to have light, and yet to keep darkness with
out light; they would have a light consisting in darkness;
and sweet, consisting in bitterness ; and good, consisting in
evil. They would have such a sort of happiness as is
impossible in its own nature ; for they would have happi
ness with unholiness, which is as much as to say they
would be happy men, and yet remain destroyed and ruined.
And when life and death are set before them to choose,
and they are urged to make their choice, and told that
they must certainly have one or the other, that there is no
possibility of avoiding it ; yet they will come to a delibe
rate, determinate choice to have neither one nor the other.
They are always halting between two opinions, they are
always choosing and yet never come to a choice. Instead
of those holy principles that man had in his heart at first,
that sweetly consented one with another, he has now

SERMON XI.

927

introduced into his soul a number of vile and hateful lusts,
that clash one with another : pride clashing with covetous
ness, and covetousness thwarting sensuality, and sloth
crushing all these : and instead of the purity in body and
mind, which man had at first, he is now, if he has any
show of purity, become like a whited sepulcbre, that is
beautifully adorned outside, and within full of dead men's
bones, and all uncleanness. Their faces disagree with
their hearts, and their mouths disagree with their hearts ;
they have the visage and show of saints, and tbe hearts of
devils. Their prayers are filled up with thanksgiving,
adoration, great honour to God, praise and glory to nim, a
show of humility before him, a show of repentance for sin,
trust, thankfulness, desire of obedience, and trust in Christ
alone ; when within is nothing but a slight and contempt
of God, enmity against God, distrust of God, pride, self-
righteousness, obstinacy, and disobedience, without one jot
or tittle of honour, or love, or trust, or humility, or repent
ance, or obedience, or any of those things that there is a
show of in their prayers. And now they say and profess
one thing, and practise another ; they will show one thing
to God, and do another, and will live all their days in this
world carnally, contentious, and alienated from God, in
the indulgence of brutish lusts and filthiness ; and yet
hope when they die to go to be with him, and in eternal
communion with him in perfect holiness, and with holy
angels, spending an eternity in holy contemplation and
praise, and to have these things for their everlasting happi
ness. And when they seem to practise well for a time it
lasts but a little while, but their practice at one time is
utterly inconsistent with that at another. Yea, if they
were narrowly observed, their practice at the same time is
inconsistent with itself : saints at church, and heathen at
home ; saints before the world, heathen in secret ; with the
tongues and faces of the children of God, and with the
hearts of the children of the devil.
Such work has the fall made in the nature of man, such
a creature as this is man become, instead of shining as at
first, in the holy and lovely image of God. Thus has the
fall of man ruined God's workmanship. And if the fall
has thus ruined man, what can be more effectually ruined ?
Does not this show that it is indeed so, that man is in a
lost and undone condition ; and can it be expected that
any other can ever restore to him the divine image, but
only that same God that made him at first ? And how vain
are the attempts of natural men to rectify their natures in
their own strength, wherein is such woeful ruin and con
fusion ! And is there not need of a mighty Saviour in
order to this ?
2. This subject may be applied in the way of conviction
to natural men, in several particulars.
1. Hence you may see your folly. Wisdom is ever
consistent with itself, and wise men are not wont to act
inconsistently. SelWnconsistency in temporal things is
ever looked upon as a note of folly. Those men that talk
very inconsistently, are accounted to talk very foolishly ;
and so those men that act inconsistently with themselves
in temporal matters, are looked upon as acting very
absurdly and ridiculously, and it is common with men to
treat such witb derision. Certainly, then, to be so exceed
ingly self-inconsistent in such great concerns as we have
spoken of, is the highest degree of folly.
The inconsistency of the judgment of wicked men shows
their folly. It shows the foolishness of those practical
judgments they govern themselves by, that they make
them contrary to the plain dictates of their own reason.
Men oftentimes count the judgments of others very foolish,
because they are very inconsistent with other men's reason,
though tbeir judgments are formed according to the best
light of tbeir own reason ; but how much more foolish is it
for men, in sucb things as infinitely concern them, to make
such practical judgments of things as are plainly contrary
not only to other men's reason, but to their own ; so as to
determine their will and their practice by those judgments !
as for instance, when men's practical judgment and con
clusion within themselves, by which they determine their
choice and practice, is, that it is best for them for the
present, to neglect their souls and seek the vanities of this
world, which are but for a moment, more than their eter
nal welfare.

And how does it show the folly of men's judgment when
some of their judgmants are inconsistent with others ; as
when in one thing they will judge that a long-continued
eternity is of less importance than this short and fleeting
life ! So it shows the great folly of men's wills and dispo
sitions, that they are so inconsistent, that in some respects
they will both choose and refuse the same things, will wish
and pray for them, and take pains for them, and yet will
not have them when offered. How madly would a man
be looked upon to act, that should so act in temporal
concerns, if he was sick and like to perish for want of a
certain medicine, and should wish and long for that medi
cine, and ask others to seek it for him, and yet when it was
bought and offered, he should utterly refuse it !
What folly does it argue that men's dispositions are so
inconsistent with each other, that there is no suiting them
with any thing ! they are pleased neither with piping nor
mourning, with eating nor fasting ; they will not have God;
or Christ, or heaven as they are, and yet will not have
either any otherwise. How would men, if they manifested
such a disposition in temporal things, often be hissed at,
as most ridiculous, childish, and foolish ; yea, and be
accounted to act like madmen ! and what folly does it
discover, that they will choose and accept of nothing but
that which is impossible in its own nature, and a self-con
tradiction, as when they will have happiness without
holiness ! If any man should act thus in temporal things ;
if he would have no house, because he could not build
one in the air ; if he refused to go, because he could not
go without feet; or to see, because he could not see
without eyes ; what words would be thought adequate to
describe his folly ! Yet this is the very folly of sinners with
regard to their salvation.
How would men be looked upon if they acted thus in
their temporal affairs ! If they must inevitably perish in
the winter if they did not labour in the summer, and yet
spend all the summer in halting between two opinions ;
or if they were sick with some deadly disease, and were
told that they must inevitably die if they did not send for
a physician, yet were undetermined, and when the dis
temper increased upon them, still continued undetermined ,
and when it was come to extremity, and seemed very near
death, still could not come to a conclusion ; or if a bouse
should be on fire over their heads, and they could not
make up their minds to flee from under it.
And what folly does it argue for men, that their prac
tices are so inconsistent with their hearts, and that they
say one thing and do another, and so are unsteady in their
practice, and inconsistent with themselves at different
times ! It is looked upon as great folly, and what persons
are much to be ashamed of, to be so unsteady in temporal
matters, to undo one day what they did another ; and so,
in their practice in some things to be inconsistent with
their practice in others; in one- thing to act like a friend,
and in another like an enemy. Persons that do so in
temporals are abhorred of men, and looked upon as not
fit for human society.
2. You may hereby be convinced of your misery. A
man cannot be happy, and cannot but be miserable, with
whom it is thus. It shows a man to be undone. He,
whose nature is brought into such violation, is evidently
brought into a state of ruin. Where there is such self-
inconsistency and self-opposition, a man is at war with
himself, and therefore must be miserable. It is a calamity
for a man not to be at peace with his neighbour, and
to live in contention with those that are about him; but
certainly it is a much greater calamity for him to be at war
with himself; to have his judgment at war with his judg
ment, and his will at war with his reason and conscience,
and his will at war with itself, and one lust thwarting
another, and his outward man at war with his inward
man ; bis mouth contradicting his heart, his practice con
tradicting his profession, and contradicting itself. It is
impossible that such a man should enjoy any happiness
as long as things are thus within him. Do what you will
here, you cannot make him happy ; if you take him and
place him in a palace, and set him on a throne, and clothe
him in the robes of princes, and put a crown of gold on his
bead, and set before him the richest dainties, feed him and
feast him as much as you will, still he that so disagrees

928

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

with himself, is a miserable wretch. Though he may be
stupid, yet it is impossible he should enjoy any true peace
or rest. How should he, in whom all things are in such
utter confusion and uproar within, and in whom there is
so much self-opposition.
This may convince us of the truth, and show us the
reason, of Isa. lvii. 20, 21. " But the wicked are like the
troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire
and dirt. There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked."
How should he have any peace, who is his own enemy,
who chooses and practises these things which his own
conscience condemns, and which his own reason tells him
tend to his own ruin ? How should he have any peace,
that hates his own soul and loves his own death, and that
has one lust holding him one way, and another the contrary,
so as in some respects to choose and refuse the same thing, to
wish for a thing that at the same time he hates and refuses,
and so goes on from day to day in warring against himself?
3. This shows your inexcusableness. By this incon
sistency with yourself, you are condemned out of your
own mouth in that you act contrary to your own conscience.
Your own conscience condemns you in your will and
practice being contrary to your own reason ; your own
reason condemns you in acting contrary to your profession ;
your own profession condemns you in the sense in which
the apostle speaks of a heretic as being condemned of
himself. Titus iii. 10, 11. " A man that is a heretic, after
the first and second admonition, reject ; knowing that he
that is such is subverted, and sinneth, being condemned
of himself:" i. e. he in departing from his former profes
sion is inconsistent with himself: his present heretical
tenets are contrary to his former solemn profession, and
therefore that former profession condemns him.
Consider how inexcusable you, who are thus inconsist
ent with yourself in your wickedness, will appear at the
last day ; when you come to stand before the judgment-
seat of God, when you are by him called to an account
for your wicked life, how will your mouth be stopped.
When you are called to an account why you have preferred
things of such short and uncertain continuance as the
things of this vain world, to the great things of the eternal
world, what will you have to say for yourself, when it
shall appear that herein you acted in direct opposition to
the plain dictates of your own reason, and that this choice
is inconsistent with the judgment and choice you were
wont to make in temporal tbings ? And what will you
say for yourself when you are called to give an account
why you rejected God, and Christ, and heaven for their
holiness ; when it so plainly appears that you would not
like them, and would not have accepted them, if they bad
been any other way than holy ?
It will then appear that you have voluntarily rejected
Christ and his great salvation, and refused to accept of
heaven, and that you are condemned of yourself in it, in
that at the same time you evinced the great necessity of
those things in praying for them, and doing many things
in order to the obtaining of them.
When it shall then appear how you had a mind to have
impossibilities : as a sufficiently worthy Saviour, and not
a holy one; salvation from misery, and not salvation from
sin, the source of all misery ; and happiness without holi
ness ; it shall from hence most plainly appear, that you did
in effect utterly refuse to accept of any Saviour or any
salvation at all, and would not be saved from misery at
all, and refused to accept of any happiness at all, because
you would have no salvation, no happiness, but such as
was impossible in the nature of things, such a salvation as
was not and could not be ; and then how just will it ap
pear to your own conscience, and to the world, tbat you
should e'en go without salvation !
And when it shall appear how you had life and death
set before you, and were told the necessitv of coming to a
choice, and were so often urged to it, and bad so much
opportunity for it, and yet refused ; how just will it appear
that divine justice should make your choice for you, when
you refused to make any for yourself !
And how will you appear condemned out of your own
mouth, when you shall be called to an account by the
Judge, why you so often professed to God in your prayers
that he was an infinitely great and holy God, and yet never

feared him ; and why you so often said to God that he was
a sovereign and righteous God, and yet never submitted to
him ; and why you so often said to him that he was an all-
sufficient and faithful God, and yet never would put your
trust in him ; and why you so often said to him that he was
an infinitely glorious, and excellent, and good God, and yet
never loved him ; and why you so often owned that he was
an infinitely gracious and bountiful God, and what you had
received abundance of kindness from him, and owned him
to be the author of all those good things of your life that
you enjoy, and yet never were truly thankful to him, but
improved those things that you owned were the gifts of
God, against himself who was the giver of them ; why you
so often owned in your prayers before God that you were
a poor sinful, vile creature for your sins, and yet never
would forsake your sins; and begged of God to keep you
from sin, and yet carelessly and wilfully went on in the
.commission of sin ? What will you say to such interroga
tions of the Judge of heaven and earth ? Will not your
mouth be stopped, when it shall appear that wbat has al
ready so often proceeded out of your own mouth, does so
much condemn you ? And what will hypocrites and self-
pretenders to experiences say, who have told what dis
coveries they had of the glory of God, of Christ, and of
heaven ; when the Judge inquires of them, why they set so
light by this God, and did so prefer the dust of the earth
and the filth of sin, before him ? When those wbo have
often told what love they have felt to the Lord Jesus
Christ, are asked why they took no more care to please and
honour him, and why they rather chose from time to time
to reject him than sacrifice their worldly interest.
So when wicked men are inquired of why, when they
professed to believe a future state, they took no more pains
to prepare for it ; why, when they professed to be the fol
lowers of Christ the Lamb of God, they were no more like
him ; why, when they owned him for their head, and ex
pressed such wonderful love to him, they could turn and
become his enemies ; why, when they lived in hope of a
life of such unspeakable giory in heaven, they set their af
fections wholly on this world ; why, seeing they made such
a show of regard to God and their duty at one time, they
discovered such a total disregard at another ; why, when
they made such pretences to religion, and had such appear
ances of it in some things, they were so irreligious and
wicked in others ; what will they answer? Wicked men
will appear self-condemned every way : their own reason
and their own consciences, their own mouths and their own
actions, have condemned them : their reason and consciences
will still condemn them, and God will condemn them, and
men and angels will and must condemn them : so that they
will appear universally condemned ; they will have nothing
to say for themselves, nor will any one have any thing to
say for them.
4. If you are so inconsistent with yourself, you need not
wonder that God will enter into no friendship with you,
or that he does not receive you into his favour. Many
natural men are ready to wonder that God will not receive
them into favour — they do so much in religion.
But if you consider what has been said, you need not
wonder at it. A wise man will make no friendship with
another who is very inconsistentwith himself in those things
wherein men are concerned with him. He will not associate
himself with him, nor care to have such to communicate
with him ; for men know that such persons are not to be
depended on. One does not know where to find them,
nor how to suit them, and if they will be so inconsistent
with themselves, certainly they will not be very consistent
with others that trust them. God therefore justly refuses
to receive such persons into union with him. It is not con
sistent with his divine wisdom to give himself to them in
a covenant relation.
No wonder that Christ will not commit himself to such
persons as these; John ii. 23, 24, 25. " Now, when he
was in Jerusalem at the passover, in the feast day, many
believed in his name, when they saw the miracles which
he did. But Jesus did not commit himself unto them,
because he knew all men, and needed not that any should
testify of man ; for he knew what was in man." Christ
knew that there was no dependence to be had upon them ;
he knew they would not prove consistent with themselves.

SERMON XII.

929

5. How vain and inconsistent is the dependence of
wicked men on themselves ! If this be the case with
natural men, if all natural men are as we have heard, so
absurdly inconsistent with themselves, how unreasonable
is their nigh thought of themselves, and their trusting to
their own goodness, to their own prayers, and their other
performances !
And that they do so, is an evident sign of their woeful
ignorance of themselves. If such persons saw themselves

as they are, and to be such as we have described them,
certainly they would be far from trusting in their own ex
cellency and goodness, but would see themselves to be
polluted, wretched, -miserable, lost creatures, and would no
more say in their hearts, " I am rich, and increased with
goods ;' but would rather condemn themselves, and cry
out with self-abhorrence and amazement, " Unclean, un
clean, undone, undone !"

SERMON XII.

IsAiAn xxxii. 2.
And a man shall be as an hiding-place from the wind, and
a covert from the tempest ; as rivers qf water in a dry
place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.
In these words we may observe,
1. The person who is here prophesied of and com
mended, viz. the Lord Jesus Christ, the King spoken of
in the preceding verse, who shall reign in righteousness.
This King is abundantly prophesied of in the Old Testa
ment, and especially in this prophecy of Isaiah. Glorious
predictions were from time to time uttered by the prophets
concerning that great King who was to come : there is no
subject which is spoken of in so magnificent and exalted
a style by tbe prophets ofthe Old Testament, as the Mes-
siab. They saw his day and rejoiced, and searched dili
gently, together with the angels, into those things. 1 Peter
1. 11, 12. " Searching what, or what manner of time, the
Spirit of Christ which was in them did signify, when it
testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and the glory
that sbould follow. Unto whom it was revealed, that not
unto tbemselves, but unto us, they did minister the things,
which are now reported unto you by them that have
§ reached the gospel unto you with the Holy Ghost sent
own from heaven ; which things the angels desire to look
into." We are told here that " a man shall be a hiding-place
from the wind," &c. There is an emphasis in the words,
that " a man " should be this. If these things had been
said of God, it would not be strange under the Old Tes
tament; for God is frequently called a hiding-place for his
people, a refuge in time of trouble, a strong rock, and a
nigh tower. But what is so remarkable is, that they are
said of " a man." But this is a prophecy of the Son of
God incarnate.
2. The things here foretold of him, and the commenda
tions given him.
" He shall be a hiding-place from the wind, and a
covert from the tempest :" that is, he shall be the safety
and defence of his people, to which they shall flee for pro
tection in the time of their danger and trouble. To him
they shall flee, as one who is abroad, and sees a ter
rible storm arising, makes haste to some shelter to secure
himself; so that however furious is the tempest, yet he is
safe within, and the wind and rain, though they beat never
so impetuously upon the roof and walls, are no annoy
ance unto him.
He shall be as " rivers of water m a dry place. Itus
is an allusion to the deserts of Arabia, which was an ex
ceedingly hot and dry country. One may travel there
many days, and see no sign of a river, brook, or spring,
nothing but a dry and parched wilderness ; so that travel
lers are ready to be consumed with thirst, as the children
of Israel were when they were in this wilderness, when
they were faint because there was no water. Now when a
man finds Jesus Christ, he is like one that has been travel
ling in those deserts till he is almost consumed with thirst,
and who at last finds a river of cool and clear water. And
Christ was typified by the river of water that issued out ot
the rock for the children of Israel in this desert: he is
vol. ii. 3 o

compared to a river, because there is such a plenty and
fulness in him.
He is the " shadow of a great rock in a weary land."
Allusion is still made to the desert of Arabia. It is not
said, as the shadow of a tree, because in some places of
that country, there is nothing but dry sand and rocks for a
vast space together, not a tree to be seen ; and the sun
beats exceedingly hot upon the sands, and all the shade to
be found there, where travellers can rest and shelter them
selves from the scorching sun, is under some great rock.
They who come to Christ find such rest and refreshment
as the weary traveller in that hot and desolate country
finds under the shadow of a great rock.
We propose to speak to three propositions that are ex
plicatory of the several parts of the text.
I. There is in Christ Jesus abundant foundation of
peace and safety for those who are in fear and danger.
" A man shall be a hiding-place from the wind, a covert
from the tempest."
II. There is in Christ provision for the satisfaction, and
full contentment, of the needy and thirsty soul. He shall
be " as rivers of water in a dry place."
III. There are quiet rest and sweet refreshment in
Christ Jesus for him who is weary. He shall be " as the
shadow of a great rock in a weary land."
I. There is in Christ Jesus abundant foundation of
peace and safety for those who are in fear and danger.
Tlie fears and dangers to which men are subject, are of
two kinds ; temporal and eternal. Men are frequently in
distress from fear of temporal evils. We live in an evil
world, wbere we are liable to an abundance of sorrows and
calamities. A great part of our lives is spent in sorrowing
for present or past evils, and in fearing those which are
future. What poor, distressed creatures are we, when
God is pleased to send his judgments among us ! If he
visits a place with mortal and prevailing sickness, what
teiTor seizes our hearts ! If any person is taken sick, and
trembles for his life, or if our near friends are at the point
of death, or in many other dangers, how fearful is our
condition ! Now there is sufficient foundation for peace and
safety to tbose exercised with such fears, and brought into
such dangers. But Christ is a refuge in all trouble ; there
is a foundation for rational support and peace in him,
whatever threatens us. He, whose heart is fixed, trusting
in Christ, need not be afraid of any evil tidings. " As the
mountains are round about Jerusalem, so Christ is round
about tbem that fear him."
But it is the other kind of fear and danger to which we
have a principal respect ; the fear and danger of God's
wrath. The fears Of a terrified conscience, the fearful ex
pectation of the dire fruits of sin, and the resentment of an
angry God, these are infinitely the most dreadful. If men
are in danger of those things, and are not asleep, they will
be more terrified than with the fears of any outward evil.
Men are in a most deplorable condition, as they are by
nature exposed to God's wrath ; and if they are sensible
how dismal their case is, will be in dreadful fears and
dismal expectations.
God is pleased to make some sensible of their true con
dition. He lets them see the storm that threatens them,
how black the clouds are, and how impregnated with thun-

930

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

der, that it is a burning tempest, that they are in danger of
being speedily overtaken by it, that they have nothing to
shelter themselves from it, and that they are in danger of
being taken away by the fierceness of his anger.
It is a fearful condition when one is smitten with a sense
of the dreadfulness of God's wrath, when he has his heart
impressed with the conviction that the great God is not
reconciled to him, that he holds him guilty of these and
those sins, and that he is angry enough with him to con
demn him for ever. It is dreadful to lie down and rise up,
it is dreadful to eat and drink, and to walk about, in God's
anger from day to day. One, in such a case, is ready to
be afraid of every thing ; he is afraid of meeting God's
wrath wherever he goes. He has no peace in his mind,
but there is a dreadful sound in his ears ; his mind is
afflicted and tossed with tempest, and not comforted, and
courage is ready to fail, and the spirit ready to sink with
fear; for how can a poor worm bear the wrath of the great
God, and what would not he give for peace of conscience,
what would not he give if he could find safety ! When
such fears exist to a great degree, or are continued a long
time, they greatly enfeeble the heart, and bring it to a
trembling posture and disposition.
Now for such as these there is abundant foundation for
peace and safety in Jesus Christ, and this will appear from
the following things :
1. Christ has undertaken to save all such from what they
fear, if they come to him. It is his professional business ;
the work in which he engaged before the foundation of the
world. It is what he always had in his thoughts and in
tentions ; he undertook from everlasting to be the refuge of
those that are afraid of God's wrath. His wisdom is such,
that he would never undertake a work for which he is not
sufficient. If there were some in so dreadful a case that he
was not able to defend them, or so guilty that it was not
fit that he should save them, then he never would have un
dertaken for them. Tliose who are in trouble and distress
ing fear, if they come to Jesus Christ, have this to ease
them of their fears, that Christ has promised them that he
will protect them; that they come upon his invitation;
that Christ has plighted his faith for their security if they
will close with him ; and that he is engaged by covenant
to God tbe Father that he will save those afflicted and dis
tressed souls that come to him.
Christ, by his own free act, has made himself the surety
of such, he has voluntarily put himself in their stead; and
if justice has any thing against them, he has undertaken to
answer for them. By his own act, he has engaged to be
responsible for them ; so that if they have exposed them
selves to God's wrath, and to the stroke of justice, it is not
their concern, but his, how to answer or satisfy for what
they have done. Let there be never so much wrath that
they have deserved, they are as safe as if they never had
deserved any ; because, he has undertaken to stand for
them, let it be more or less. If they are in Christ Jesus,
the storm does of course light on him, and not on them ;
as when we are under a good shelter, the storm, that would
otherwise come upon our heads, lights upon the shelter.
2. He is chosen and appointed of the Father to this work.
There needs be no fear nor jealousy, whether the Father
will approve of this undertaking of Christ Jesus, whether
he will accept of him as a surety, or whether he will be
willing that his wrath should be poured upon his own dear
Son, instead of us miserable sinners. For there was an
agreement with him concerning it before the world was ; it
was a thing much upon God's heart, that his Son Jesus
Christ should undertake this work, and it was the Father
that sent him into the world. It is as much the act of God
the Father as it is of the Son. Therefore, when Christ was
near the time of his death, he tells the Father that he had
finished the work which he gave him to do. Christ is often
called God's elect, or his chosen, because he was chosen
by. the Father for this work ; and God's anointed, for the
words Messiah and Christ signify anointed, because be is
by God appointed and fitted for tbis work.
. 3. If we are in Christ Jesus, justice and the law have its
course with respect to our sins, without our hurt. The
foundation of tbe sinner's fear and distress is the justice
and the law of God ; they are against him, and they are
unalterable, they must have their course. Every jot and

tittle of the law must be fulfilled, heaven and earth shall
be destroyed, rather than justice should not take place;
there is no possibility of siri's escaping justice.
But yet if the distressed trembling soul who is afraid of
justice, would fly to Christ, he would be a safe hiding-
place. Justice and the threatening of the law will have
their course as fully, while he is safe and untouched, as if
he were to be eternally destroyed. Christ bears the stroke
of justice, and the curse of the law falls fully upon him;
Christ bears all that vengeance that belongs to the sin that
has been committed by him, and there is no need of its
being borne twice over. His temporal sufferings, by reason
of tbe infinite dignity of his person, are fully equivalent to
the eternal sufferings of a mere creature. And then his
sufferings answer for him who flees to him as well as if
they were his own, for indeed they are his own by virtue
of the union between Christ and him. Christ has made
himself one with them ; he is the head, and they are the
members. Therefore, if Christ suffers for the believer,
there is no need of his suffering ; and what needs he to be
afraid ? His safety is not only consistent with absolute jus
tice, but it is consistent with the tenor ofthe law. The law
leaves fair room for such a thing as the answering of a
surety. If the end of punishment in maintaining the
authority of the law and the majesty of the government is
fully secured by the sufferings of Christ as his surety, then
the law of God, accoiding to the true and fair interpretation
of it, has its course as much in Ihe sufferings of Christ, as
it would have in his own sufferings. The threatening,
" thou shalt surely die," is properly fulfilled in the death
of Christ, as it is fairly to be understood. Therefore if those
who are afraid will go to Jesus Christ, they need to fear
nothing from the threatening of the law. The threatening
of the law has nothing to do with them.
4. Those who come to Christ, need not be afraid of God's
wrath for their sins ; for God's honour will not suffer by
tlieir escaping punishment and being made happy. The
wounded soul is sensible that he has affronted the majesty
of God, and looks upon God as a vindicator of his honour;
as a jealous God that will not be mocked, an infinitely
great God that will not bear to be affronted, that will not
suffer his authority and majesty to be trampled on, that
will not bear that bis kindness should be abused. A view
of God in this light terrifies awakened souls. They think
how exceedingly they have sinned, how they have sinned
against light, against frequent and long-continued calls and
warnings ; and how they have slighted mercy, and been
guilty of turning the grace of God into lasciviousness, tak
ing encouragement from God's mercy to go on in sin against
him ; and they fear that God is so affronted at the con
tempt and slight which they have cast upon him, that he,
being careful of his honour, will never forgive tbem, but
will punish them. But if they go to Christ, the honour of
God s majesty and authority will not be in the least hurt
by their being freed and made happy. For what Christ
has done has repaired God's honour to the full. It is a
greater honour to God's authority and majesty, that, rather
than it should be wronged, so glorious a person would suf
fer what the law required. It is surely a wonderful dis^
play of the honour of God's majesty, to see an infinite and
eternal person dying for its being wronged. And then
Christ by his obedience, by that obedience which he un
dertook for our sakes, has honoured God abundantly more
than the sins of any of us have dishonoured him, how
many soever, and how great soever. How great an honour
is it to God's law that so great a person is willing to sub
mit to it, and to obey it ! God hates our sins, but not
more than he delights in Christ's obedience wbich he per
formed on account. This is a sweet savour to him, a sa
vour of rest. God is abundantly compensated, he desires,
no more ; Christ's righteousness is of infinite worthiness
and merit.
5. Christ is a person so dear to the Father, that those,
who are in Christ need not be at all jealous of being ac
cepted upon his account. If Christ is accepted they must
of consequence be accepted, for tbey are in Christ, as
members, as parts, as the same. They are the body of
Christ, bis flesh and his bones. They that are in Christ
Jesus, are one spirit ; and therefore, if God loves Christ,
Jesus, he must of necessity accept of those that are in

SERMON XII.

931

him, and that are of him. But Christ is a person exceed
ingly dear to the Father, the Father's love to the Son is
really infinite. God necessarily loves the Son ; God could
as soon cease to be, as cease to love the Son. He is God's
elect, in whom his soul delighteth ; he is his beloved Son,
in whom he is well pleased ; he loved him before the
foundation of the world, and bad infinite delight in him
from all eternity.
A terrified conscience, therefore, may have rest here, and
abundant satisfaction that he is safe in Christ, and that
there is not the least danger but that he shall be accepted,
and that God will be at peace with him in Christ.
6. God has given an open testimony that Christ has
done and suffered enough, and that he is satisfied with it,
by his raising him from the dead. Christ, when he was in
his passion, was in the hands of justice, he was God's
prisoner for believers, and it pleased God to bruise him,
and put him to grief, and to bring him into a low state ;
and when he raised him from the dead, he set him at
liberty, whereby he declared that it was enough. If God
was not satisfied, why did he set Christ at liberty so soon ?
he was in the hands of justice, why did not God pour out
more wrath upon him, and hold him in the chains of dark
ness longer ? God raised him up and opened the prison
doors to him, because he desired no more. And now
surely there is free admittance for all sinners into God's
favour through this risen Saviour, there is enough done,
and God is satisfied ; as he has declared and sealed to it
by the resurrection of Christ, who is alive, and lives for
evermore, and is making intercession for poor, distressed
souls that come unto him.
7. Christ has the dispensation of safety and deliverance
in his own hands, so that we need not fear but that, if we
are united to him, we may be safe. God has given him
all power in heaven and in earth, to give eternal life to
whomsoever comes to him. He is made head over all
things to the church, and the work of salvation is left with
himself, he may save whom he pleases, and defend those
that are in him by his own power. What greater ground
of confidence could God have given us than that the Me
diator, who died for us, and intercedes for us, should have
committed to him the dispensation of the very thing which
he died to purcbase and for which he intercedes?
8. Christ's love, and compassion, and gracious disposi
tion, are such that we may be sure he is inclined to receive
all who come lo bim. If he should not do it, he would
fail of his own undertaking, and also of his promise to the
Father, and to us ; and his wisdom and faithfulness will
not allow of that. But he is so full of love and kindness
that he is disposed to nothing but to receive and defend
us, if we come to him. Christ is exceedingly ready to
pity us, his arms are open to receive us, he delights to
receive distressed souls that come to him, and to protect
them ; he would gather them as a hen gathereth her chick
ens under her wings; it is a work that he exceedingly re
joices in, because he delights in acts of love, and pity,
and mercy.
I shall take occasion from what now has been said, to
invite those who are afraid of God's wrath, to come to
Christ Jesus. You are indeed in a dreadful condition. It
is dismal to have God's wrath impending over our heads,
and not to know how soon it will fall upon us. And you
are in some measure sensible that it is a dreadful condi
tion, you are full of fear and trouble, and you know not
where to flee for help ; your mind is, as it were, tossed
with a tempest. But how lamentable is it, that you should
spend your life in such a condition, when Christ would
shelter you, as a hen shelters her chickens under her wings,
if you were but willing ; and that you should live such a
fearful, distressed life, when there is so much provision
made for your safety in Christ Jesus !
How happy wduld vou be if your hearts were but per
suaded to close with Jesus Christ ! Then you would be
out of all danger : whatever storms and tempests were
without, you might rest securely within ; you might hear
the rushing of the wind, and the thunder roar abroad,
while you are safe in this hiding-place. O be persuaded
to hide yourself in Christ Jesus ! What greater assurance
of safety can you desire? He has undertaken to defend
and save you, if you will come to him : he looks upon it
3 o 2

as his work ; he engaged in it before the world was, and
he has given his faithful promise which he will not break ;
and if you will but make your flight there, his life shall
be for yours ; he will answer for you, you shall have no
thing to do but rest quietly in him ; you may stand still
and see what the Lord will do for you. If there be any
thing to suffer, the suffering is Christ's, you will have no
thing to suffer ; if there be any thing to be done, the doing
of it is Christ's, you will have nothing to do but to stand
still and behold it.
You will certainly be accepted of the Father if your soul
lays hold of Jesus Christ. Christ is chosen and anointed
of the Father, and sent forth for this very end, to save those
that are in danger and fear ; and he is greatly beloved of
God, even infinitely, and he will accept of those that are
in him. Justice and the law will not be against you, if
you are in Christ ; that threatening, " in the day that thou
eatest thou shalt die," in ihe proper sense of it, will not
touch you. The majesty and honour of God are not
against you. You need not be afraid but that you shall
be justified, if you come to him ; there is an act of justifi
cation already past and declared for all who come to Christ
by the resurrection of Christ, and as soon as ever you
come, you are by that declared free. If you come to
Cbrist it will be a sure sign that Christ loved you from all
eternity, and that he died for you ; and you may be sure
if he died for you, he will not lose the end of his death,
for the dispensation of life is committed unto him.
You need not, therefore, continue in so dangerous a con
dition ; there is help for you. You need not stand out in
the storm so long, as there is so good a shelter near you,
whose doors are open to receive you. O make haste,
therefore, unto that man who is a hiding-place from the
wind, and a covert from the tempest 1
Let this truth also cause believers more to prize the Lord
Jesus Christ. Consider that it is he, and he only, who
defends you from wrath, and that he is a safe defence ;
your defence is a high tower ; your city of refuge is im
pregnable. Tbere is no rock like your rock. There is
none like Christ, " the God of Jeshurun, who rideth upon
the heaven in thy help, and in his excellency on the sky ;
tbe eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are everlast
ing arms." He in whom you trust is a buckler to all that
trust in him. O prize that Saviour, who keeps your soul
in safety, while thousands of others are carried away by
the fury of God's anger, and are tossed with raging and
burning tempests in hell ! O, how much better is your
case than theirs 1 and to whom is it owing but to the Lord
Jesus Cbrist ? Remember what was once your case, and
what it is now, and prize Jesus Christ.
And let those Christians who are in doubts and fears
concerning their condition, renewedly fly to Jesus Christ,
wbo is a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from
the tempest. Most Christians are at times afraid whether
they shall not miscarry at last. Such doubtings are always
througb some want of the exercise of faith, and the best
remedy for them is a renewed resort of the soul to this
hiding-place ; the same act which at first gave comfort and
peace, will give peace again. They that clearly see the
sufficiency of Christ, and the safety of committing them
selves to him to save them from what they fear, will rest
in it that Christ will defend them ; be directed therefore at
such times to do as the psalmist. Psal. lvi. 3, 4. " What
time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. In God I wilt
praise his word ; in God I have put my trust : I will not
fear wbat flesh can do unto me.'
II. There is provision in Christ for the satisfaction and
full contentment of the needy and thirsty soul. This is
the sense of those words in the text, " as rivers of water in
a dry place," in a dry and parched wilderness, where there
is a great want of water, and where travellers are ready to
be destroyed with thirst, such as was that wilderness in
which the children of Israel wandered. This comparison
is used elsewhere in the Scriptures. Psalm lxiii. 1. " O
God, thou art my God ; early will I seek thee : my soul
thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and
thirsty land, where no wateris." Ps. cxhu. 6. " I stretch
forth my hands unto thee; my soul thirsteth after thee, as
a thirsty land." Those who travel in such a land, who
wander in such a wilderness, are in extremeneed of water;

932

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

they are ready to perish for the want of it ; and thus they
have a great thirst and longing for it.
It is said that Christ is a river of water, because there is
such a fulness in him, so plentiful a provision for the
satisfaction of the needy and longing soul. When one is
extremely thirsty, though.it is not a small draught of water
will satisfy him, yet when he comes to a river, he finds a
fulness, there he may drink full draughts. Christ is like a
river, in that he has a sufficiency not only for one thirsty
soul, but by supplying him the fountain is not lessened ;
there is not the iess afforded to those who come afterwards.
A thirsty man does not sensibly lessen a river by quench
ing his thirst.
Christ is like a river in another respect. A river is con
tinually flowing, there are fresh supplies of water coming
from the fountain-head continually, so that a man may live
by it, and be supplied with water all his life. So Christ is
an ever-flowing fountain ; he is continually supplying his
people, and tbe fountain is not spent. They who live
upon Christ, may have fresh supplies from him to all eter
nity ; they may have an increase of blessedness that is
new, and new still, and which never will come to an
end. In illustrating this second proposition, I shall inquire,
1. What it is that the soul of every man naturally and
necessarily craves.
First. The soul of every man necessarily craves happi
ness. This is an universal appetite of human nature, that
is alike in the good and the bad ; it is as universal as the
very essence ofthe soul, because it necessarily and imme
diately flows from that essence. It is not only natural to
all mankind, but to the angels ; it is universal among all
reasonable, intelligent beings, in heaven, earth, or hell, be
cause it flows necessarily from an intelligent nature. There
is no rational being, nor can there be any, without a love
and desire of happiness. It is impossible that there should
be any creature made that should love misery, or not love
happiness, since it implies a manifest contradiction; for the
very notion of misery is to be in a state that nature abhors,
and the notion of happiness, is to be in such a state as is
most agreeable to nature.
Therefore, this craving of happiness must be insuperable,
and what never can be changed ; it never can be overcome,
or in any way abated. Young and old love happiness
alike, and good and bad, wise and unwise ; though there is
a great variety as to men's ideas of happiness. Some
think it is to be found in one thing, and some in another ;
yet, as to the desire of happiness in general, there is no
variety. There are particular appetites that may be restrain
ed, and kept under, and conquered, but this general appetite
for happiness never can be.
Secondly. The soul of every man craves a happiness that
is equal to the capacity of his nature. The soul of man is
like a vessel ; the capacity of the soul is as the largeness
or contents of the vessel. And therefore, if man has much
pleasure and happiness, yet-if the vessel is not full, the
craving will not cease. Every creature is restless till it
enjoys what is equal to the capacity of its nature. Thus
we may observe in the brutes ; when they have that which
is suitable to their nature, and proportional to their capacity,
they are contented. Man is of such a nature, that be is
capable of an exceedingly great degree of happiness ; he is
made of a vastly higher nature than the brutes, and there
fore he must have vastly higher happiness to satisfy. The
pleasures of the outward senses which content tbe beasts,
will not content man. He has other faculties of a higher
nature that stand in need of something to fill them ; if the
sense be satiated, yet if the faculties of the soul are not
filled, man will be in a craving restless state.
It is more especially by reason of the faculty of under
standing that the soul is capable of so great a happiness,
and desires so much. The understanding is an exceed
ingly extensive faculty ; it extends itself beyond the limits
of earth, beyond the limits of the creation. As we are
capable of understanding immensely more than we do
understand, who can tell how far the understanding of men
is capable of stretching itself? and as the understanding
enlarges, the desire will enlarge with it. It must there
fore be an incomprehensible object that must satisfy the
soul ; it will never be contented with that, and that only,

to which it can see an end, it will never be satisfied with
that bappiness to which it can find a bottom.
A man may seem to take contentment for a little while
in a finite object, but after he has had a little experience, he
finds that he wants something besides. This is very ap
parent from the experience of this restless craving world.
Every one is inquiring, Who will show us any good?
2. Men in their fallen state, are in very great want of
this happiness. They were once in the enjoyment of it,
but mankind are sunk to a very low estate ; we are natu
rally poor, destitute creatures. We came naked into the
world, and our souls as well as our bodies are in a wretch
ed, miserable condition; we are so far from having food
to eat suitable to our nature, that we are greedy after the
husks which the swine do eat.
The poverty of man in a natural condition, appears in his
discontented, craving spirit; it shows that the soul is very
empty, when, like the horse-leech, it cries, " Give, give,
and saith not, It is enough." We are naturally like the
prodigal, for we once were rich, but we departed from our
father's house, and have squandered away our wealth, and
are become poor, hungry, famishing wretches.
Men in a natural condition may find something to
gratify their senses, but there is nothing to feed the soul;
that more noble and more essential part perishes for lack
of food. They may fare sumptuously every day, they
may pamper their bodies, but the soul cannot be fed from-
a sumptuous table ; they may drink wine in bowls, yet the
spiritual part is not refreshed. The superior faculties want
to be supplied as well as the inferior. True poverty and
true misery consist in the want of those things of which
our spiritual part stands in need.
3. Those sinners who are thoroughly awakened, are sen
sible of their great want. Multitudes of men are not sen
sible of their miserable, needy condition. There are many
who are thus poor, and think themselves rich, and increased
in goods. Indeed there are no natural men that have true
contentment : they are all restless, and crying, " Who will
show us any good ?" but multitudes are not sensible how
exceedingly necessitous is their condition. But the |tho-
roughly awakened soul sees that he is very far from true
happiness, that those things which he possesses will never
make him happy ; that for all his outward possessions he
is wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and
naked. He becomes sensible of the short continuance and
uncertainty of those things, and their insufficiency to
satisfy a troubled conscience. He wants something else
to give him peace and ease. If you would tell him that he
might have a kingdom, it would not quiet him; he de
sires to have his sins pardoned, and to be at peace with his
Judge. He is poor, and he becomes as a beggar; hecomes
and cries for help. He does not thirst, because he as yet
sees where true happiness is to be found, but because he
sees that he has it not, and cannot find it. He is without
comfort, and does not know where to find it, but he longs
for it. O, what would he not give, if he could find some
satisfying peace and comfort !
Such are those hungry, thirsty souls that Christ so often
invites to come to him. Isa. Iv. 1, 2. " Ho, every one
that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no
money, come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and
milk without money and without price. Wherefore do ye
spend money for that which is not bread, and your labour
for that which satisfieth not ? hearken diligently unto me,
and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight
itself in fatness." " If any man thirst, let him come unto
me and drink ; and he that is athirst, let him come and
take of the water of life freely."
4. There is in Christ Jesus provision for the full satis
faction and contentment of such as these.
First. The excellency of Christ is such, that the dis
covery of it is exceedingly contenting and satisfying to the
soul. The inquiry ofthe soul is after that which is most
excellent. The carnal soul imagines that earthly things are
excellent ; one thinks riches most excellent, another has
the highest esteem of honour, and to another carnal
pleasure appears the most excellent ; but the soul cannot
find contentment in any of these things, because it soon
finds an end to their excellency.
Worldly men imagine, that there is trae excellency and

SERMON VII,

933

true happiness in those things which they are pursuing.
They think that if they could but obtain them, they should
be happy ; and when they obtain them, and cannot find
happiness, they look for happiness in something else, and
are still upon the pursuit.
But Christ Jesus has true excellency, and so great ex
cellency, that when they come to see it they look no
further, but the mind rests there. It sees a transcendent
glory and an ineffable sweetness in him ; it sees that till
now it has been pursuing shadows, but that now it has
found the substance ; that before it had been seeking
happiness in the stream, but that now it has found the
ocean. The excellency of Christ is an object adequate
to the natural cravings of the soul, and is sufficient to fill
the capacity. It is an infinite excellency, such an one as
the mind desires, in which it can find no bounds ; and the
more the mind is used to it, the more excellent it appears.
Every new discovery makes this beauty appear more
ravishing, and the mind sees no end ; here is room enough
for the mind to go deeper and deeper, and never come to
the bottom. The soul is exceedingly ravished when it first
looks on this beauty, and it is never weary of it. The
mind never has any satiety, but Christ's excellency is
always fresh and new, and fends as much to delight, after
it has been seen a thousand or ten thousand years, as when
it was seen the first moment. The excellency of Christ is
an object suited to the superior faculties of man, it is
suited to entertain the faculty of reason and understanding,
and there is nothing so worthy about which the understand
ing can be employed as this excellency ; no other object
is so great, noble, and exalted.
This excellency of Jesus Christ is the suitable food of
the rational soul. The soul that comes to Christ, feeds
upon this, and lives upon it; it is that bread which came
down from heaven, of which he that eats shall not die ; it
is angels' food, it is that wine and milk that is given with
out money, and without price. This is that fatness in
which the believing soul delights itself; here the longing
soul may be satisfied, and the hungry soul may be filled
with goodness. The delight and contentment that is to be
found here, passeth understanding, and is unspeakable and
full of glory. It is impossible for those who have tasted
of this fountain, and know the sweetness of it, ever to for
sake it. The soul has found the river of water of life, and
it desires no otber drink ; it has found the tree of life, and
it desires no other fruit.
Secondly. The manifestation of the love of Christ gives
the soul abundant contentment. This love of Christ is
exceedingly sweet and satisfying, it is better than life, be
cause it is the love of a person of such dignity and excel
lency. Tbe sweetness of his love depends very much
upon the greatness of his excellency ; so much the more
lovely the person, so much the more desirable is his love.
How' sweet must the love of that person be, who is the
eternal Son of God, who is of equal dignity with the
Father ! How great a happiness must it be to be the
object ofthe love of him who is the Creator ofthe world,
and by whom all things consist, and who is exalted at
God's right hand, and made head over principalities and
powers in heavenly places, who has all things put under
his feet, and is King of kings and Lord of lords, and is the
brightness of the Father's glory ! Surely to be beloved by
him, is enough to satisfy the soul of a worm of the dust.
This love of Christ is also exceedingly sweet and satis
fying from the greatness of it ; it is a dying love ; such
love as never was before seen, and such as no other can
parallel. There have been instances of very great love
between one earthly friend and another ; there was a sur
passing love between David and Jonathan. But there
never was any such love as Christ has towards believers.
The satisfying nature of this love arises also from the
sweet fruits of it. Those precious benefits that Christ be
stows upon his people, and those precious promises which
he has given them, are the fruit of this love ; joy and hope
are the constant streams that flow from this fountain, from
the love of Christ. .
Thirdly. There is provision for the satisfaction and con
tentment of the thirsty longing soul in Christ, as he is the
way to the Father; not only from the fulness of excel
lency and grace which he has in his own person, but as

by him we may come to God, may be reconciled to him,
and may be made happy in his favour and love.
The poverty and want of the soul in its natural state
consist in its being separated from God, for God is the
riches and the happiness of the creature. But we naturally
are alienated from God ; and God is alienated from us,
our Maker is not at peace with us. But in Christ there
is a way for a free communication between God and us ;
for us to come to God, and for God to communicate him
self to us by his Spirit. John xiv. 6. " Jesus saith unto
him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life : no man
cometh unto the Father but by me." Ephes. ii. 13, 18,
19. " But now in Christ Jesus, ye who sometimes were
far off, are made nigh by the blood of Christ. For through
him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father.
Now, therefore, ye are no more strangers and foreigners,
but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of
God." Christ by being thus the way to the Father, is the way
to true happiness and contentment. John x. 9. " I am
the door : by me, if any man enter in, he shall be saved,
and shall go in and out, and find pasture."
Hence I would take occasion to invite needy, thirsty
souls to come to Jesus. " In the last day, that great day of
tbe feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst,
let him come unto me and drink." You that have not
yet come to Christ, are in a poor, necessitous condition ;
you are in a parched wilderness, in a dry and thirsty land.
And if you are thoroughly awakened, you are sensible that
you are in distress and ready to faint for want of something
to satisfy your souls. Come to him who is " as rivers of
water in "a dry place." There are plenty and fulness in
him ; be is like a river that is always flowing, you may
live by it for ever, and never be in want. Come to him
who has such excellency as is sufficient to give full con
tentment to your soul," who is a person of transcendent
glory, and ineffable beauty, where you may entertain the
view of your soul for ever without weariness, and without
being cloyed. Accept of the offered love of him who is
the only-begotten Son of God, and his elect, in whom his
soul delighteth. Through Christ, come to God the Father,
from whom you have departed by sin. He is the way,
the truth, and the life ; he is the door, by which if any
man enters he shall be saved.
III. There are quiet rest and sweet refreshment in
Christ Jesus, for those that are weary. He is ''as the
shadow of a great rock in a weary land."
The comparison that is used in the text is very beauti
ful and very significative. The dry, barren, and scorched
wilderness of Arabia is a very lively representation of the
misery that men have brought upon themselves by sin.
It is destitute of any inhabitants but lions and tigers and
fiery serpents ; it is 'barren and parched, and without any
river or spring ; it is a land of drought, wherein there is
seldom any rain, a land exceedingly hot and uncomfortable.
The scorching sunbeams that are ready lo consume the
spirits of travellers, are a fit representation of terror of con
science, and the inward sense of God's displeasure.
And there being no other shade in which travellers may
rest, but only here and there that of a great rock, it is a
fit representation of Jesus Christ, who came to redeem
us from our misery. Christ is often compared to a rock,
because he is a sure foundation to builders, and because
he is a sure bulwark and defence. They who dwell upon
the top of a rock, dwell in a most defensible place ; we
read of those wbose habitation is the munitions of rocks.
He may also be compared to a rock, as he is everlasting
and unchangeable. A great rock remains stedfast, un
moved, and unbroken by winds and storms from age to
age; and therefore God' chose a rock to be an emblem of
Christ in the wilderness, when he caused water to issue
forth for the children of Israel ; and the shadow of a great
rock is a most fit representation of the refreshment given
to weary souls by Jesus Christ. .
1. There is quiet rest and full refreshment in Christ for
sinners that are weary and heavy laden with sin. Sin is
the most evil and odious thing, as well as the most mis
chievous and fatal; it is the most mortal poison; it,
above all things, hazards life, and endangers the soul,
exposes to the loss of all happiness, and to the suffering

934

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

of all misery, and brings the wrath of God. All men
have this dreadful evil banging about them, and cleaving
fast to the soul, and ruling over it, and keeping it in pos
session, and under absolute command : it hangs like a
viper to the heart, or rather holds it as a lion does his
prey. But yet there are multitudes, who are not sensible of
their misery. They are in such a sleep that they are not
very unquiet in this condition, it is not very burfhensome
to them, they are so sottish that they do not know what is
tlieir state, and what is like to become of tbem. But
there are others who have their sense so far restored to
them that they feel the pain, and see the approaching de
struction, and sin lies like a heavy load upon their hearts;
it is a load that lies upon them day and night, they cannot
lay it down to rest themselves, but it continually oppresses
them. It is bound fast unto them, and is ready to sink
them down ; it is a continual labour of heart, to support
itself under this burden. Thus we read of them " that la
bour, and are heavy laden."
Or rather, it is like the scorching heat in a dry wilder
ness, where the sun beats and bums all the day long ;
where they have nothing to defend them ; where tbey can
find no shade to refresh themselves. If they lay them-
seves down to rest, it is like lying down in the hot sands,
where there is nothing to keep off the heat.
Here it may be proper to inquire who are weary and
heavy laden with sin ; and in what sense a sinner may be
weary and burdened with sin. Sinners are not wearied
with sin from any dislike to it, or dislike of it. There is
no sinner that is burdened with sin in the sense in which a
godly man carries his indwelling sin, as his daily and
greatest burden, because he loathes it, and longs to get
rid of it; he would fain be at a great distance from it,
and have nothing more to do with it ; he is ready to cry
out as Paul did, " O wretched man that I am ! wbo shall
deliver me from the body of this death ?" The unre
generate man has nothing of this nature, for sin is vet bis
delight, he dearly loves it. If he be under convictions,
his love to sin in general is not mortified, he loves it as
well as ever, he hides it still as a sweet morsel under his
tongue. But there is a difference between being weary and bur
dened with sin, and being weary of sin. Awakened sin
ners are weary with sin, but not properly weary of it.
Therefore, they are only weary of the guilt of sin, the
guilt that cleaves to their consciences is that great burden.
God has put the sense of feeling into their consciences,
that were before as seared flesh, and it is guilt that pains
them. The filthiness of sin and its evil nature, as it is an
offence to a holy, gracious, and glorious God, is not a
burden to them. But it is the connexion between sin
and punishment, between sin and God's wrath, that
makes it a burden. Their consciences are heavy laden
with guilt, which is an obligation to punishment ; they
see the threatening and curse of the law joined to their
sins, and see that the justice of God and his vengeance are
against them. They are burdened with their sins, not be
cause there is any odiousness in them, but because there
is hell in them. This is the sting of sin, whereby it stings
the conscience, and distresses and wearies the soul.
The guilt of such and such great sins is upon the soul,
and the man sees no way to get rid of it, but he has
wearisome days and wearisome nights; it makes him
ready sometimes to say as the psalmist did, " O that I
had wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away and be
3u reS-i_ 'Lo' then would I wander far off, and remain in
the wilderness. I would hasten my escape from the windy
storm and tempest."
But when sinners come to Christ, he takes awav that
which was their burden, or their sin and guilt, that which
was so heavy upon their hearts, that so distressed their
minds. First. He takes away the guilt of sin, from which the
soul before saw no way how it was possible to be freed,
and which, if it was not removed, led to eternal destruc
tion. When the sinner comes to Christ, it is all at once
taken away, and the soul is left free, it is lightened of its
burden, it is delivered from its bondage, and is like a bird
escaped from the snare of the fowler. The soul sees in

Christ a way to peace with God, and a way by which the
law may be answered, and justice satisfied, and yet he
may escape ; a wonderful way indeed, but yet a certain
and a glorious one. And what rest does it give to the
weary soul lo see itself thus delivered, that the founda
tion of its anxieties and fears is wholly removed, and that
God's wrath ceases, that it is brought into a state of peace
with God, and that there is no more occasion to fear hell,
but that it is for ever safe !
How refreshing is it to the soul to be at once thus deli
vered of that which was so much its trouble and terror,and
to be eased of that which was so much its burden ! This
is like coming to a cool shade after one has been travelling,.
in a dry and hot wilderness, and almost fainting under the
scorching heat.
And then Christ also takes away sin itself, and morti
fies that root of bitterness which is the cause of all the
inward tumults and disquietudes that are in the mind,
that make it like the troubled sea that cannot rest, and
leaves it all calm. When guilt is taken away and sin is
mortified, then the foundation of fear, and trouble, and
pain is removed, and the soul is left in peace and serenity.
Secondly. Christ puts strength and a principle of new
life into the weary soul that comes to him. The sinner,
before he comes to Christ, is as a sick man that is weak
ened and brought low, and whose nature is consumed by
some strong distemper : he is full of pain, and so weak
that he cannot walk nor stand. Therefore, Christ is com
pared to a physician. " But when Jesus heard that, he
said unto them, They that be whole, need not a physician,
but they that are sick." When he comes and speaks the
word, he puts a principle of life into him that was before
as dead : he gives a principle of spiritual life and the be-'
ginning of eternal life ; he invigorates the mind with a
communication of his own life and strength, and renews
the nature and creates it again, and makes the man to be
a new creature.
So that the fainting, sinking spirits are now revived, and
this principle of spiritual life is a continual spring of re
freshment, like a well of living water. " Whosoever
drinketh of tbe water that I shall give him, shall never
thirst ; but tbe water that I shall give him shall be in
him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."
Christ gives his Spirit, that calms the mind, and is like a
refreshing breeze of wind. He gives that strength whereby
he lifts up the hands that hang down, and strengthens the
feeble knees.
Thirdly. Christ gives to those who come to him such
comfort and pleasure as are enough to make them forget
all their former labour and travail. A little of true peace,
a litde of the joys of the manifested love of Christ, and a
little of the true and holy hope of eternal life, are enough
to compensate for all that toil and weariness, and to erase
the remembrance of it from the mind. That peace which
results from true faith passes understanding, and that joy
is joy unspeakable. There is something peculiarly sweet
and refreshing in this joy, that is not in other joys ; and
what can more effectually support tbe mind, or give a
more rational ground of rejoicing, than a prospect of
eternal glory in the enjoyment of God from God's own
promise in Christ ? If we come to Christ, we may not
only be refreshed by resting in his shadow, but by eating
his fruit : these things are the fruits of this tree. " I sat
down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit
was sweet to my taste."
Before proceeding to the next particular of this propo
sition, I would apply myself to those that are weary ; to
move them to repose themselves under Christ's shadow.
The great trouble of such a state, one would think,
should be a motive to you to accept of an offer of relief,
and remedy. You are weary, and doubtless would be
glad to be at rest ; but here you are to consider,
1st. That there is no remedy but in Jesus Christ ; there
is nothing else will give you true quietness. If you could
fly into heaven, you would not find it there ; if you should
take the wings ofthe morning, and dwell in the uttermost
parts of the earth, in some solitary place in the wilderness,
you could not fly from your burden. So that if you do
not come to Christ, you must either continue still weary
and burdened, or, wbich is worse, you must return to your

SERMON XII.

935

old dead sleep, to a state of stupidity ; and not only so,
but you must be everlastingly wearied' with God's wrath.
2d. Consider that Christ is a remedy at hand. You
need not wish for the wings of a dove that you may fly
afar off, and be at rest, but Christ is nigh at hand, if you
were but sensible of it. Rom. x. 6, 7, 8. "But the
righteousness which is of faith speaketh on this wise. Say
not in thine heart, Who shall ascend into heaven? (that is,
to bring Christ down from above :) or, Who shall descend
into the deep ? (that is, to bring up Christ again from tbe
dead.) But what saith it ? The word is nigb thee, even
in thy mouth, and in thy heart ; that is, the word of faith
which we preach." There is no need of doing any great
work to come at this rest ; the way is plain to it ; it is but
going to it, it is but sitting down" under Christ's sbadow.
Christ requires no money to purchase rest of him, he calls
to us to come freely, and for nothing. If we are poor and
have no money, we may come. Christ sent out his ser
vants to invite the poor, the maimed, the halt, and the
blind. Christ does not want to be hired to accept of you,
and to give you rest. It is his work as Mediator to give
rest to the weary, it is the work that he was anointed for,
and in which be delights. "The Spirit of the Lord God
is upon me ; because the Lord hath anointed me to preacb
good tidings unto the meek ; he hath sent me to bind up
tbe broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and
the opening of the prison to them that are bound."
3d. Christ is not only a remedy for your weariness and
trouble, but he will give you an abundance of the contrary,
joy and delight. They who come to Christ, do not only
come to a resting-place after they have been wandering in
a wilderness, but they come to a banqueting-house where
they may rest, and where they may feast. They may
cease from their former troubles and toils, and they may
enter upon a course of delights and spiritual joys.
Christ not only delivers from fears of hell and of wrath,
but he gives hopes of heaven, and the enjoyment of God's
love. He delivers from inward tumults and inward pain,
from that guilt of conscience which is as a worm gnawing
within, and he gives delight and inward glory. He brings
us out of a wilderness of pits, and drought, and fiery
flying spirits ; and he brings us into a pleasant land, a land
flowing with milk and honey. He delivers us out of
prison, and lifts us off from the dunghill, and he sets us
among princes, and causes us to inherit the throne of
glory. Wherefore, if any one is weary, if any is in prison,
if any one is in captivity, if any one is in the wilderness,
let him come to the blessed Jesus, who is as the shadow
of a great rock in a weary land. Delay not, arise and
come away.
2. There are quiet rest and sweet refreshment in Christ
For God's people that are weary.
The saints themselves, while they remain in this imper
fect state, and have so much remains of sin in their hearts,
are liable still to many troubles and sorrows, and much
weariness, and have often need to resort anew unto J esus
Christ for rest. I shall mention three cases wherein Christ
is a sufficient remedy.
First. There is rest and sweet refreshment in Christ for
those that are wearied with persecutions. It has been the
lot of God's church in this world for the most'part to be
persecuted. It has had now and then some lucid intervals
of peace and outward prosperity, but generally it has been
otherwise. This has accorded with the first prophecy
concerning Christ ; " I will put enmity between thee and
the woman, and between thy seed and her seed." Those
two seeds have been at enmity ever since the time of Abel.
Satan has borne great malice against the church of God,
and so have those that are his seed. And oftentimes
God's people bave been persecuted to an extreme degree,
have been put to the most exquisite torments that wit or
art could devise, and thousands of them have been tor
mented to death.
But even in such a case there are rest and refreshment
to be found in Christ Jesus. When their cruel enemies
have given them no rest in this world ; when, as often
times has been the case, they could not flee, nor in any
way avoid the rage of their adversaries, but many of them
have been tormented gradually from day to day, that their
torments might be lengthened ; still rest has been found

even then in Christ. It has been often found by expe
rience ; the martyrs have often showed plainly that the
peace and calm of their minds were undisturbed in the
midst of the greatest bodily torment, and have sometimes
rejoiced and sung praises upon the rack and in the fire. If
Christ is pleased to send forth his Spirit to manifest his
love, and speaks friendly to the soul, it will support it
even in the greatest outward torment that man can inflict.
Christ is the joy of the soul, and if the soul be but re
joiced and filled with divine light, such joy no man can
take away ; whatever outward misery there" be, the spirit
will sustain it.
Secondly. There is in Christ rest for God's people, when
exercised with afflictions. If a person labour under great
bodily weakness, or under some disease that causes fre
quent and strong pains, such things will tire out so feeble
a creature as man. It may to such an one be a comfort
and an effectual support to think, that he has a Mediator,
who knows by experience what pain is ; who by his pain
has purchased eternal ease and pleasure for him ; and who
will make his brief sufferings to work out a far more ex
ceeding delight, to be bestowed when he shall rest from
his labours and sorrows.
If a person be brought into great straits as to outward
subsistence, and poverty brings abundance of difficulties
and extremities ; yet it may be a supporting, refreshing
consideration to such an one to think, that he has a com
passionate Saviour, who when upon earth, was so poor
that he had not where to lay his head, and who became
poor to make him rich, and purchased for him durable
riches, and will make his poverty work out an exceeding
and eternal weight of glory.
If God in his providence calls his people to mourn over
lost relations, and if he repeats his stroke and takes away
one after another of those that were dear to him ; it is a
supporting, refreshing consideration to think, that Christ
has declared that he will be in stead of all relations unto
those who trust in him. They are as his mother, and sister,
and brother; he has taken them into a very near relation
to himself : and in every other afflictive providence, it is a
great comfort to a believing soul to think that he has an
intercessor with God, that by him he can have access with
confidence to the throne of grace, and that in Christ we
have so many great and precious promises, that all things
shall work together for good, and shall issue in eternal
blessedness. God's people, whenever they are scorched
by afflictions as by hot sun-beams, may resort to him, who
is as a shadow of a great rock, and be effectually sheltered,
and sweetly refreshed.
Thirdly ."There is in Christ quiet rest and sweet refresh
ment for' God's people, when wearied with the buffctings
of Satan. The devil, that malicious enemy of God and
man, does whatever lies in his power to darken and hinder,
and tempt God's people, and render their lives uncomfort
able. Often he raises needless and groundless scruples,
and casts in doubts, and fills the mind with such fear as is
tormenting, and tends to hinder them exceedingly in the
christian course ; and he often raises mists and clouds of
darkness, and stirs up corruption, and thereby fills the mind
with concern and anguish, and sometimes wearies out the
soul. So that they may say as the psalmist ; " Many
bulls have compassed me : strong bulls of Bashan have
beset me round. They gaped upon me with their mouths,
as a ravening and a roaring lion."
In such a case if the soul flies to Jesus Christ, they may
find rest in him, for he came into the world to destroy
Satan, and to rescue souls out of his hands. And he has
all things put under his feet, whether they be things in
heaven, or things on earth, or things in hell, and therefore
he can restrain Satan when he pleases. And that he is
doubtless ready enough to pity us under such temptations,
we may be assured, for he has been tempted and buffeted
bv Satan as well as we. He is able to succour those that
are tempted, and he has promised that he will subdue Satan
under his people's feet. Let God's people therefore, when
they are exercised with any of those kinds of weariness,
make their resort unto Jesus Christ for refuge and rest.

936

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

REFLECTIONS.

1 . We may here see great reason to admire the goodness
and grace of God to us in our low estate, that he has so
provided for our help and relief. We are by our own sin
against God plunged into all sort of evil, and God has
provided a remedy for us against every sort of evil, he has
left us helpless in no calamity. We by our sin have ex
posed ourselves to wrath, to a vindictive justice ; but God
has done very great things that we might be saved from
that wrath ; he has been at infinite cost that the law might
be answered without our suffering. We by our sins have
exposed ourselves to terror of conscience, in expectation of
the dreadful storm of God's wrath ; but God has provided
for us a hiding-place from the storm, he bids us enter into
his chambers, and hide ourselves from indignation. We
by sin have made ourselves poor, needy creatures ; but
God has provided for us gold tried in the fire. We by sin
have made ourselves naked ; and when he passed by, he
took notice of our want, and has provided us white raiment
that we may be clothed. We have made ourselves blind,
and God in mercy to us has provided eye-salve, that we
may see. We have deprived ourselves of all spiritual
food ; we are like the prodigal son that perished with hunger,
and would gladly have filled his belly with husks. God
has taken notice of this our condition, and has provided for
us a feast of fat things, and has sent forth his servants to
invite the poor, the maimed, the halt, and the blind. We
by sin have brought ourselves into a dry and thirsty wil
derness ; but God was merciful, and took notice of our
condition, and has provided for us rivers of water, water
out of the rock. We by sin have brought upon ourselves
a miserable slavery and bondage ; God has made provision
for our liberty. We have exposed ourselves to weariness;
God has provided a resting-piace for us. We by sin have
exposed ourselves to many outward troubles and afflic
tions ; God has pitied us, and in Christ has provided true
comfort for us. We have exposed ourselves to our grand
enemv, even Satan, to be tempted and buffeted by him ;
God bas pitied, and has provided for us a Saviour and
Captain of salvation, who has overcome Satan, and is able
to deliver us. Thus God has in Christ provided suf
ficiently for our help in all kinds of evils.
How ought we to bless God for this abundant provision
he has made for us, poor and sinful as we were, who were
so undeserving and so ungrateful. He made no such pro
vision for the fallen angels, who are left without remedy in
all the woes and miseries into which they are plunged.

2. We should admire the love of Christ to men, that he
has thus given himself to be the remedy for all their evil,
and a fountain of all good. Christ has given himself to
us, to be all things to us that we need. We want clothing,
and Christ does not only give us clothing, but he gives
himself to be our clothing, that we might put him on.
Gal. iii. 27. " For as many of you as have been baptized
into Christ have put on Christ." Rom. xiii. 14. " But put
ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for
the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof."
We want food, and Christ has given himself to be our
food ; he has given his own flesh to be our meat, and his
blood to be our drink, to nourish our soul. Thus Christ
tells us that he is the bread which came down from heaven,
and the bread of life. " I am that bread of life. Your
fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead.
This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a
man may eat thereof, and not die. I am the living bread
which came down from heaven : if any man eat of this
bread, he shall live for ever ; and the bread that I will
give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the
world." In order to our eating of his flesh, it was neces
sary that he should be slain, as the sacrifices must be slain
before they could be eaten ; and such was Christ's love to
us, that he consented to be slain, he went as a sheep to the
slaughter, that be might give us his flesh to be food for
our poor, famishing souls.
We are in need of a habitation ; we by sin have, as it
were, turned ourselves out of house and home ; Christ has
given himself to be the habitation of his people. Ps. xc.
1. " Lord, tbou hast been our dwelling-place in all genera
tions." It is promised to God's people that they should
dwell in the temple of God for ever, and should go no
more out ; and we are told that Christ is the temple of the
new Jerusalem.
Christ gives himself to his people to be all things to
them that they need, and all things that make for their
happiness. Col. iii. 11. " Where there is neither Greek
nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, barbarian,
Scythian, bond, nor free ; but Christ is all, and in all."
And that he might be so, he has refused nothing that is
needful to prepare him to be so. When it was needful that
he should be incarnate, he refused it not, but became man,
and appeared in the form of a servant. When it was need
ful that he sbould be slain, he refused it not, but gave
himself for us, and gave himself to us upon the cross.
Here is love for us to admire, for us to praise, and for us
to rejoice in, with joy that is full of glory for ever.

SERMON XIII.

1 Peter ii. 9.
But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy
nation, a peculiar people ; that ye should show forth the
praises qf him who hath called you out of darkness into
his marvellous light.
The apostle in the preceding verses speaks of the
great difference between Christians and unbelievers, on
account of their diverse and opposite relations to Jesus
Christ. The former have Christ for their foundation, they
come to him as a living stone, a stone chosen of God, and
precious ; and they also as living stones are built up a
spiritual house. The christian church is the temple of
God, and particular believers are the stones of which that
temple is built. The stones of Solomon's temple, which
were so curiously polished and well fitted for their places
in that building, were a type of believers. And Christ is
the foundation of this building, or the chief comer stone.
On the contrary, to the latter, to unbelievers, Christ, in

stead of being a foundation on which they rest and
depend, is a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence ;
instead of being a foundation to support them and keep
them from falling, he is an occasion of their stumbling and
falling. And again, to believers Christ is a precious stone :
" Unto you therefore which believe, he is precious." But
to unbelievers he is a stone that is disallowed, and rejected,
and set at nought. They set light by him, as by the
stones of the street ; they make no account of him, they
disallow him ; when tbey come to build, tbey cast this
stone away as being of no use, not fit for a foundation,
not fit for a place in their building. In the eighth verse
the apostle tells the Christians to whom he writes, that
those unbelievers who thus reject Christ, and to whom
he is a stone of stumbling, and rock of offence, were
appointed to this. " And a stone of stumbling, and a rock
of offence, even to them which stumble at the word,
being disobedient, whereunto also they were appointed."
It was appointed that they should stumble at die word

SERMON XIII.

937

that Christ should be an occasion not of their salvation,
but of their deeper damnation, And then in our text, he
puts the Christians in mind how far otherwise God had
dealt with them, than with those reprobates. They were a
chosen generation. God had rejected the others in his
eternal counsels; but themselves he had chosen from
eternity. They were a chosen generation, a royal priest
hood, a holy nation, a peculiar people.
As God distinguished the people of Israel of old from
all other nations, so he distinguishes true Christians. It
is probable, the apostle had in his mind some expressions
that are used in the Old Testament, concerning the people
of Israel. Christians are said here to be a chosen genera
tion, according to what was said of Israei of old. Deut.
x. 15. " Only the Lord thy God had a delight in thy
fathers to love them, and he chose their seed after them,
even you above all people, as it is this day." Christians
are here said to be a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a
peculiar people, agreeable to what was said of old of
Israel. Exod. xix. 5, 6. " Now, therefore, if ye will obey
my voice indeed, and keep my covenant, then ye shall be
a peculiar treasure unto me above all people : for all the
earth is mine. And ye shall be unto me a kingdom of
priests, and an holy nation. These are the words which
thou shalt speak unto the children of Israel."
But there is something further said here of Christians
than there of Israel. There, it is promised to Israel tbat,
if they obey, they shall be a kingdom qf priests ; but here,
Christians are said to be a priesthood qf kings, or a royal
priesthood. They are a priesthood, and they are also
kings. I propose to insist distinctly upon the several proposi
tions contained in the words of the text.
I. True Christians are a chosen generation. Two
things are here implied.
1. That true Christians are chosen by God from the
rest of the world, to be his.
2. That God's people are of a peculiar descent and
pedigree, different from all the world besides.
1 . True Christians are chosen by God from the rest of
the world.
God does not utterly cast off the world of mankind.
Though they are fallen and corrupted, and there is a curse
brought upon the world, yet God entertained a design of
appropriating a certain number to himself. Indeed all
men and all creatures are his, as well since as before the
fall ; whether they are elected or not, they are his. God
does not lose his right to them by the fall, neither does he
lose his power to dispose of them ; they are still in his
hands. Neither does he lose his end in creating them.
God hath made all things for himself, even the wicked for
the day of evil. It possibly was Satan's design, in
endeavouring the fall of man, to cause that God should
lose the creature that he had made, by getting him away
from God into his own possession, and to frustrate God
of his end in creating man; but this Satan has not
obtained. But yet in a sense the wicked may be said not to belong
to God. God doth not own them ; he hath rejected them
and cast them away ; they are not God's portion, they are
Satan's portion ; God hath left them, and they are lost.
Wben man fell, God left and cast off the'bulk of mankind ;
but he was pleased, notwithstanding the universal fall, to
choose out a number of them to be his, whom he would
still appropriate to himself. Though the world is a fallen
world, yet it was the will of God still to have a portion in
it, and therefore he chose out some and set diem apart for
himself. Psal. iv. 3. " But know that the Lord hath set
apart bim that is godly for himself: the Lord will hear
when I call unto him.'' God's portion is his people, and
Jacob is the lot of his inheritance. Deut. xxxii. 9. Those
wbo are God's enemies, and to whom he is an enemy, are
still his. But those who are his friends, his children, his
jewels, that compose his treasure, are his in a very differ
ent manner. God has chosen the godly out of the rest of
the world to be nearly related to him, to stand in the rela
tion of children, to have a property in him, that they
might not only be his people, but that he might be their
God; he has chosen these to bestow himself upon them.
He hath chosen them from among others to be gracious to

them, to show them his favour ; he has chosen them to
enjoy him, to see his glory, and to dwell with him for
ever. He hath chosen them as his treasure, as a man
chooses out gems from a heap of stones, with this differ
ence, the man finds gems very different from other stones,
and therefore chooses. But God chooses them, and
therefore they become gems, and very different from others.
Mai. iii. 17. " And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of
hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels ; and I will
spare them as a man spareth his own son that serveth
him." Psal. cxxxv. 4. " For the Lord hath chosen Jacob
unto himself, and Israel for his peculiar treasure." God
hath chosen them for a most noble and excellent use, and
therefore they are called vessels unto honour, and elect
vessels. God has different uses for different men. Some
are destined to a baser use, and are vessels unto dis
honour; others are chosen for the most noble use, for
serving and glorifying God, and that God may show the
glory of divine grace upon them.
Several things may here be observed concerning this
election of God, whereby he chooses truly godly persons.
First. This election supposes that the persons chosen
are found among others. The word election denotes this,
it signifies a choosing out. Tlie elect are favoured by
electing grace among the rest of mankind, with whom they
are found mixed together as the tares and the wheat. They
are found among them in the same sinfulness, and in the
same misery, and are alike partakers of original corruption.
They are among them in being destitute of any thing in
them that is good, in enmity against God, in being in
bondage to Satan, in condemnation to eternal destruction,
and in being without righteousness. So that there is no
distinction between them prior to that which the election
makes, there is no respect wherein the elect are not among
the common multitude of mankind. 1 Cor. iv. 7. " For
who maketh thee to differ from another ? and what hast
thou that thou didst not receive ? now, if thou didst
receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not re
ceived it?" 1 Cor. vi. 11. "And such were some of
you ; but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are
justified, in the name ofthe Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit
of our God." And, therefore,
Secondly. No foreseen excellency in the elected is the
motive that influences God to choose them. Election is
only from his good pleasure. God's election being the first
thing that causes any distinction, there can be no distinc
tion already existing, the foresight of which influences
God to choose them. It is not the seeing of any amiable
ness in them above others, that causes God to choose them
rather than the rest. God does not choose men, because
they are excellent ; but he makes them excellent, and
because he has chosen them. It is not because God con
siders them as holy that he chooses them ; but he chooses
them that they might be holy. Eph. i. 4, 5. "According
as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the
world, that we should be holy, and without blame before
him in love ; having predestinated us unto the adoption of
children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good
pleasure of his will." God does not choose them from
the foresight of any respect they will have towards him
more than others. God does not choose men and set his
care upon them because they love him, for he hath first
loved us. 1 John iv. 10. " Herein is love, not that we
loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be
the propitiation for our sins;" ver. 19. "We love him,
because he first loved us."
It is not from any foresight of good works that men do
before or after conversion ; but on the contrary, men do
good works because God hath chosen them. John xv.
16. "Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,
and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit,
and that your fruit should remain; that whatsoever ye
shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you."
Nor did God choose men, because he foresaw that they
would believe and come to Christ. Faith is the conse
quence of election, and not the cause of it. Acts xiii. 48.
" And when the Gentiles heard this they were glad, and
glorified the word of the Lord : and as many as were or
dained to eternal life, believed." It is because God hath
chosen men, that he calls them to Christ, and causes them

938

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

to come to him. To suppose that election is from the
foresight of faith, is to place calling before election, which
is contrary to the order in which tbe Scripture represents
things. Rom. viii. 30. " Moreover, whom he did predes
tinate, them he also called ; and whom he called, them
he also justified ; and whom he justified, them he also
glorified." It is not from the foresight of any, either
moral or natural qualifications, that God chooses men, nor
because he sees that some men are of a more amiable
make, and better natural temper, or genius, nor because
he foresees that some men will have better abilities, and
will have more wisdom than others, and so will be able to
do more service for God than others ; nor because he fore
sees that they will be great and rich, and so possessed of
greater advantages to serve him. 1 Cor. i. 27, 28. " But
God hath chosen the foolish things of the world, to con
found the wise ; and God hath chosen the weak things of
the world, to confound the things which are mighty ; and
the base things of the world, and things despised, hath
God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to
nought things that are.'" Nor is it from any foresight of
men's endeavours after conversion, because he sees that
some whom he chooses will do much more than others to
obtain heaven ; but God chooses them, and therefore
awakens them, and prompts them to strive for conversion.
Rom. ix. 16. " So then it is not of him that willeth, nor
of him that runneth, but. of God that showeth mercy."
Election in Scripture is every where referred to God's own
good pleasure. Matt. xi. 26. "Even so, Father; for so
it seemed good in thy sight." 2 Tim. i. 9. " Who hath
Saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according
to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace,
which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world
began." Thirdly. True Christians are chosen of God from all
eternity ; not only before they were born, but before the
world was created. They were foreknown of God, and
chosen by him out of the world. Eph. i. 4. " According
as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the
world, that we should be holy, and without blame before
him in love." 2 Tim. i. 9. "According to his own pur
pose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus, before
the world began."
Fourthly. God in election set his love upon those whom
he elected. Rom. ix. 13. " Jacob have I loved, but Esau
have I hated." Jer. xxxi. 3. " The Lord hath appeared
of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an
everlasting love ; therefore with loving-kindness have I
drawn thee." 1 John iv. 19. " We love him because he
first loved us." A God of infinite goodness and benevo
lence loves those that have no excellency to move or at
tract it : the love of men is consequent upon some loveli
ness in the object, but the love of God is antecedent to,
and the cause of it. Believers were from all eternity
beloved both by the Father and the Son. The eternal
love of the Father appears in that he from all eternity con
trived a way for their salvation, and chose Jesus Christ
to be their Redeemer, and laid help upon him. It is a
fruit of this electing love that God sent his Son into the
world to die, it was to redeem those whom he so loved.
1 John iv. 10, " Herein is love, not that we loved God,
but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitia
tion for our sins." It is a fruit of the eternal, electing love
of Jesus Christ, that he was willing to come into the world,
and die for sinners, and that he actually came and died.
Gal. ii. 20. " I am crucified with Christ : nevertheless, I
live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me : and the life
which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the
Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me."
And so conversion, and glorification, and all that is done
for a believer from the first to the last, is a fruit of electing
love. Fifthly. This electing love of God is singly of every
particular person. Some deny a particular election, and
say that there is no other election than a general determi
nation, that all that believe and obey shall be saved. Some
also own no more than an absolute election of nations.
But God did from all eternity singly and distinctly
choose, and set his love upon, every particular person that
ever believes, as is evident by Gal. ii. 20. " Who loved

me and gave himself for me." God set his love fro_i
eternity upon this and that person, as particularly as if
there were no other chosen than he ; and therefore it is
represented as though they were mentioned by name, that
their names are written in the book of life. Luke x. 20.
" Notwithstanding, in this rejoice not, that the spirits are
subject unto you ; but rather rejoice, because your names
are written in heaven." Rev. xiii 8. " And all that dwell
upon the earth shall worship him, whose names are not
written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from the
foundation of the world."
Sixthly. In election, believers were from all eternity
given to Jesus Christ. As believers were chosen from all
eternity, so Christ was from eternity chosen and appointed
to be their Redeemer, and he undertook the work of re
deeming them. There was a covenant respecting it be
tween the Father and Son. Christ, as we have already
observed, loved them before the creation of the world ;
and then he had their names, as it were, written in a book,
and therefore the book of life is called the Lamb's book.
Rev. xxi. 27. " And there shall in no wise enter into it
any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomi
nation, or maketh a lie : but they which are written in the
Lamb's book of life." And he bears their names upon
his heart, as the high priest of old did the names of the
tiibes of the children of Israel on his breastplate. Christ
often calls the elect those whom God had given him.
John xvii. 2. "As thou hast given him power over all
flesh, that he should give eternal life to as many as thou
hast given him." In the 9th verse, " I pray for them ; I
pray not for the world, but for them which thou hast
given me ; for they are thine." In the 1 1 th verse, " And
now I am no more in the world, but these are in the
world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep through
thine own name those whom thou hast given me, that they
may be one, as we are."
This part of the subject may suggest to us the following
reflections. First. God's thus electing a certain definite number
from among fallen men from all eternity, is a manifestation
of his glory. It shows the glory of the divine sovereignty.
God hereby declares himself the absolute disposer of the
creature ; he shows us how far his sovereignty and domi
nion extend, in eternally choosing some and passing by
others, and leaving them to perish. God here appears in
a majesty that is unparalleled. Those who can see no
glory of dominion in this act, have not attained to right
apprehensions of God, and never have been made sensible
of his glorious greatness. And here is especially shown
the glory of divine grace, in God's having chosen his peo
ple to blessedness and glory long before they are born ; in
bis choosing them out of the mass of mankind, from whom
they were not distinguished, and in his love to them
being prior to all that they have or do, being uninfluenced
by any excellency of theirs, by the light of any labours
or endeavours of theirs, or any respect of theirs towards
him. ,
The doctrine of election shows, that if those who are
converted have earnestly sought grace and holiness, and
in that way have obtained it, their obtaining it is not
owing to their endeavours, but that it was the grace and
mercy of God that caused them earnestly to seek conver
sion, that they might obtain it. It shows also that faith
itself is the gift of God, and that the saints persevering in,
a way of holiness unto glory, is also the fruit of electing
love. Believers' love to God is the fruit of God's love to
them, and the giving of Christ, the preaching ofthe gospel,
the appointing of ordinances, are all fruits of the grace of
election. All the grace that is shown to any of mankind,
either in this world, or in the world to come, is comprised
in the electing love of God.
Secondly. If believers are the chosen of God, here is a
great argument for their love and gratitude towards him.
The consideration of the miserable condition in which
God found you, and in which he- left others, should move
your hearts. How wonderful that God should take such
thought of a poor worm from all eternity 1 God might
have left you as well as many others, but it pleased the
Lord to set his love upon you. What cause have you for
love and thankfulness, that God should make choice of

SERMON XIII.

939

you, and set you apart for himself rather than so many
thousands of others ! '
(Sod hath chosen you not merely to be his subjects and
servants, but to be his children, to be his peculiar treasure ;
he has chosen you to be blessed for ever in the enjoyment
of himself, and to dwell with him in his glory. He bas
given you from all eternity to his Son, to be united unto
him, to become the spouse of Christ. He has cbosen you
that you might be holy and without blame, that you
might have your filth taken away, and that you might
have the image of God put upon you, and that your soul
might be adorned, to be the bride of his glorious and dear
Son. What cause for love is here !
Thirdly. If believers are a chosen generation, let all
labour earnestly to make their election sure. If true
Christians are chosen of God, this should induce all
earnestly to inquire whether they are true Christians.
2 Peter i. 5, 6, 7. " And besides this, giving all diligence,
add to your faith, virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; and
to knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, patience ;
and to patience, godliness ; and to godliness, brotherly
kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity."
2. True Christians are a distinct race of men ; they are
of a peculiar descent or pedigree, different from the rest of
the world. This is implied in tiieir being called a genera
tion. Tliere are three significations of the word genera
tion in the Scriptures. Sometimes it means, as is its
meaning in common use, a class of persons among a people,
or in the world, that at e born together, or so nearly to
gether, that the time qf their being in the different stages of
the age qfman is the sume. They shall be young persons,
middle aged, and old together ; or they shall be together
upon the stage of action. All that are together upon the
face of the earth, or the stage of action, are very often ac
counted as one generation. Thus when God threatened
that not one of the Israelites of that generation should see
the good land, it is meant, all from twenty years old and
upwards. A second meaning is, those who are born qf a common
progenitor. A third meaning of the word in Scripture, is, a certain
race of mankind, whose generation and birth agree, not as
lo time, but as to descent and pedigree, or us to those per
sons from whom they originally proceeded. So it is to be
understood, Matt. i. 1. " This is the book of the genera
tion of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abra
ham ;" that is, this is the book that gives an account of
his pedigree. And this meaning, viz. those who are ofthe
same race and descent, must be given to the word in the
text. The righteous are often spoken of in Scripture as
being a distinct generation. Psal. xiv. 5. " There were
they in great fear : for God is in the generation of the
righteous." Psal. xxiv. 6. " This is the generation of them
that seek him, that seek thy face, O Jacob." Psal. lxxiii.
15. " If 1 say, I will speak thus : behold, I should offend
against the generation of thy children."
That the godly are a distinct race appears evident, since
they are descended from God, they are a heavenly race,
they are derived from above. The heathen were wont to
feign that their heroes and great men were descended from
the gods, but God's people are descended from the true
and living God, without any fiction. Psal. xxii. 30. " A
seed shall serve him ; it shall be accounted to the Lord
for a generation." That is, a seed, a posterity, shall serve
him, and it shall be accounted to tbe Lord for his posterity
or offspring.
Now the people of God may be considered as descend
ing from God, and as being his posterity, either remotely
or immediately.
First. They are remotely descended from God. The
churcb is a distinct race, that originally came from God.
Other men are ofthe earth, they are of earthly derivation,
they are the posterity of men ; but the church is the pos
terity of God. Thus it is said, Gen. vi. 2. " That the sons
of God saw the daughters of men, that they were fair ; and
they took them wives of all which they chose." The sons
of God were the children of the church, of the posterity of
Seth; the daughters of men were those that were born out
of the church, and of the posterity of Cain, and those that
adhered to him.

It was God that set up the church in the world, and
those, who were the first founders of the church, were of
God, and were called specially the sons of God. Seth was
the seed that God appointed. Gen. iv.' 25. "And Adam
knew his wife again ; and she bare a son, and called his
name Seth. For God, said she, hath appointed me another
seed instead of Abel, whom Cain slew. Adam, in Luke's
genealogy of Christ, (Luke iii. 38. " Which was the son
of Enos, which was the son of Seth, which was the son of
Adam, which was the son of God,") is called the son of
God ; possibly, not only because he was immediately
created by God, but also because he was from God, and
was begotten by him. As he was a good man, and was
the founder of the church, of which Christ himself became
a son, he was the first in the line of the church, and as
such he was from God. When the church was almost
extinct God called Abraham out of Ur of the Chaldees,
and afterwards out of Haran. Abraham was one imme
diately from God, and all God's people in all succeeding
ages are accounted as the children of Abraham. God
promised Abraham that his seed should be as the stars of
heaven, and as the sand on the sea-shore, meaning pri
marily not his posterity according to the flesh. John the
Baptist said, God is able of the stones to raise up children
unto Abraham. Those are the seed of Abraham, as we
are taught in the New Testament, that are of the faith of
Abraham ; Christians, as well as Jews, are the seed of
Abraham. Gal. iii. 29. " And if ye be Christ's, then are
ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise."
So the church is the seed of Jacob, who is called God's
son. Hosea xi. 1 . " When Israel was a child, then I
loved him, and called my son out of Egypt." All God's
people are called Israel ; not only his posterity according
to the flesh, but proselytes of old, and Gentile Christians
now under the gospel. The sincerely godly, and they only,
are the true Israel.
So the people of God are descended from God the
Father originally, as tbey are descended from Christ the
Son of God. Christian's are called the seed qf Christ.
Gal. iii. 29. " And if ye be Christ's," &c. They are, as it
were, his posterity ; Christ calls them his children. Heb.
ii. 13. " Bebold I and the children which thou hast given
me." So that if we trace the pedigree of God's people up
to their original, they will be found to be descended from
God : they are of heaven, they are not of this world.
Other men are of the earth, anrl are earthly, but these are
heavenly, and are of heaven. The wicked are called the
men of tbis world. Psal. xvii. 14. " From men which are
thy hand, O Lord, from men ofthe world which have their
portion in this life, and whose belly thou fillest with thy
hid treasure : they are full of children, and leave the rest
of their substance to their babes." The first beginnings of
the church were from God, the great founder ofthe church.
Jesus Cbrist is the Son of God, and those men, who under
him have been founders, were of God, were of him. God
chose them, called them, and created them for this pur
pose. Since which, God's people are descended one from
another ; the church is continued and propagated, as it
were, by generation. If there were no ordinary and stated
means made use of for the continuing and propagating the
church, it would not be so ; but God's people are made
tbe instruments of one another's conversion, by begetting
one another's souls. The church is continued by itself
instrumentally through all generations, the people of God
are begotten through the education, instruction, and en
deavours of tbose who were God's people before. There
fore the church is represented in Scripture as being the
mother of its members. Gal. iv. 26. " But Jerusalem
which is above is free, which is the mother of us all."
Believers are the children ofthe church, as they are often
called. Isa. xlix. 20. " The' children which thou shalt
have, after thou hast lost the other, shall say again in thine
ears, the place is too strait for me ; give place to me, lhat
I mav dwell." Isa. liv. 1. " Sing, O barren, thou that
didst "not bear; break forth into singing, and cry aloud,
thou that didst not travail with child : for more are the
children of the desolate than the children of the married
wife, saith the Lord." And many other places.
God's people are often, through their education and in
struction, the spiritual parents of those of whom they are

940

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

the natural parents. The ministers of the word and ordi
nances are spiritual fathers. The apostle tells the christian
Corinthians, that he had begotten them through the gospel.
Secondly. God's people are immediately begotten of
God. When they become saints, they are bor-n again, they
have a new nature given them, they have a new life begun,
they are renewed in the whole man by a new generation
and birth wherein they are born of God. John i. 12, 13.
" But as many as received him, to them gave he power to
become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his
name : which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of
the flesh, nor of the will of man, but qf God." They are
born of the Spirit of God. John iii. 8. " The wind blow-
eth where it iisteth, and thou hearest the sound thereof,
but canst not tell whence it cometh nor whither it goeth :
so is every one that is born ofthe Spirit." God is said to
have formed the church from the womb. Isa. xliv. 2.
" Thus saith the Lord that made thee, and formed thee
from the womb, which will help thee ; Fear not, O Jacob
my servant ; and thou, Jeshurun, whom 1 have chosen."
This truth also may suggest to us a few profitable re
flections. First. Christians ought to bear with one another. It
appears from what has been said, that they are all of one
kindred, that they have a relation to other Christians which
they have not to the rest of the world; being of a distinct
race from them, but of the same race one with another.
They are descended all along from the same progenitors ;
they are the children of the same universal church of God ;
they are all the children of Abraham ; they are the seed of
Jesus Christ; they are the offspring of God. And they
are yet much more alike, than their being ofthe same race
originally argues them to be: they are also immediately
the children of the same Father. God hath begotten all
by the same word and Spirit; they are all of one family,
and should therefore love as brethren. 1 Peter iii. 8. " Fi
nally, be ye all of one mind, having compassi'-n one of
another ; love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous."
It is very unbecoming those who are God's offspring, to
entertain a spirit of hatred and ill will one towards another.
It is very unbecoming to be backward in helping and
assisting one another, and supplying each others wants;
much more, to contrive and seek one another's hurt, to be
revengeful one towards another.
Secondly. Let Christians take heed so to walk, that
they may not dishonour their pedigree. You are of a very
honourable race, more honourable by far than if you were
the offspring of kings, and had royal blood in your veins ;
you are a heavenly offspring, the seed of Jesus Christ, the
children of God. They that are of noble race are wont to
value themselves highly upon the honour of their families,
to dwell on their titles, their coats of arms, and their en
signs of honour, and lo recount the exploits of their illus
trious forefathers. How much more careful should you
be of the honour of your descent, that you in nothing be
have yourself unworthy of the great God, the eternal and om
nipotent King of heaven and earth, whose offspring you are !
There are many things that are very base, and too mean
for such as you ; such are a giving way to earthly-minded-
ness, a grovelling like moles in tbe earth, a suffering your
soul to cleave to those earthly things, which ought to be
neglected and despised by those who are of heavenly de
scent ; an indulgence of the lusts of the flesh, suffering
the soul to be immersed in filth, being taken up with mean
and unworthy delights common to the beasts, being intem
perate in the gratification of any carnal appetite whatsoever,
or a being much concerned about earthly honour. It is
surely a disgrace to them, who are accounted to God for a
generation, much to care whether they are accounted great
upon this dunghill. So it is unworthy of your noble de
scent to be governed by your passions : you should be
guided by higher principles of reason and virtue, and an
universal respect to the glory and honour of God.
But Christians should seek after those things which will
be to the honour of their birth, after spiritual wisdom, and
knowledge of the most worthy and noble truths. They
should seek more and more an acquaintance with God,
and lo be assimilated to him, their great progenitor, and
their immediate Father, that they may have the image of
bis excellent and divine perfections. They should endea

vour to act like God, wherein they are capable of imitation
of him. They should seek heavenly-mindedness, those
noble appetites after heavenly and spiritual enjoyments, a
noble ambition after heavenly glory, a contempt of the
trifles and mean things of this world. They should seek
after those delights and satisfactions that can be enjoyed
by none but heavenly minds. They should exercise a
spirit of true, universal, and disinterested love and confi
dence, and christian charity. They should be much in
devotion, and divine contemplation.
Thirdly. We see here a reason why Christians are of so
different a nature and temper from the rest of the world.
The truly godly are very different in their disposition from
others. They hate those things that the rest of the world
love, and love those things for which the rest of the world
have no relish ; insomuch that others are ready to wonder
that they should place any happiness in a strict observance
of the self-denying duties of religion ; they wonder what
delight they can take in spending so much time in medita
tion and prayer, and that they do not place happiness in
those things which themselves do. 1 Peter iv. 4. " Where
in they think it strange lhat ye run not with them to the
same excess of riot ; speaking evil of you." But the rea
son is, they are of a different race, and so derive different
dispositions. It is ordinary to see those who are of different families,
of a different temper. The natural temper of parents is
commonly in some degree transmitted to their posterity.
Indeed, all agree in many things, for all are of the same
blood originally ; all are descended from the same Adam,
and the same Noah. But Christians are born again of
another stock, different from all the rest of the world;
and therefore they are of a temper by themselves, wherein
none of the rest of the world agree with them. Rev. i. 6.
" And hath made us kings and priests unto God, and his
Father : to him be glory and dominion, for ever and ever."
II. True Christians are a royal priesthood.
The two offices of king and priest were accounted very
honourable both among Jews and heathens ; but it was a
thing not known under the law of Moses, that the same
person should sustain both those offices in a stated man
ner ; and while Moses himself is said to have been king
in Jeshurun, yet his brother Aaron was the high priest.
Those who were kings by divine appointment in Israel,
were of another tribe from the priesthood, viz. the tribe of
Judah. Before the giving the iaw we have an instance of
one who was both king and priest, viz. Melchizedek.
Gen. xiv. 18. " And Melchizedek, king of Salem,
brought forth bread and wine ; and he was the priest of
the most high God."
Therefore, in some of the prophecies of Christ, it is
spoken of as a remarkable thing of him, that he should be
a priest after the order of Melchizedek. Psal. ex. 4.
" The Lord hath sworn and will not repent; thou art a
priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek." The
same again is prophesied of as a wonderful thing by Ze
chariah, that he should be a priest upon a throne. Zech.
vi. 13. " Even he shall build the temple of the Lord ; and
he shall bear the glory, and shall sit and rule upon his
throne ; and he shall be a priest upon his throne ; and the
counsel of peace shall be between them both." In this
respect the gospel dispensation differs from the legal, that
it reveals the compatibleness of the two offices. One
person, Jesus Christ, is antitype of both kings and priests,
under the law ; and as it is the will of Christ, who became
in all things like unto us, that his disciples should in many
things become like unto bim, so it is in this among others.
As Christ is the Son of God, so those that are Christ's are
the children of God ; as Christ is the heir of God, so, as
Christ liveth, it is his will that they should live also. As
Christ rose from the dead, so it is the will of Christ that his
saints should rise also. As Christ is in heaven in glory,
so it is the will of Christ that they should be with him
where he is. So, as Christ is both King and Priest, so
shall believers be made kings and priests. What is said
in the text, is either with respect to what they now are, or
what they shall be hereafter. The apostle says, " ye are a
royal priesthood ;" that is, ye have those honours in rever
sion. Christians are kings here, as a king who is in his
minority ; who, though the crown is his right, has not yet

SERMON XIII.

941

come actually to reign. They are indeed in an exalted state
while here, but not as they will be hereafter. Christians
while here are indeed priests, but not as they will be.
Christians are called kings and priests here, in this world.
Rev. i. 6. " And hath made us kings and priests unto God
and his Father." But in Rev. v. the saints in heaven speak
of this as the consequence of their glory and exaltation.
Rev. v. 9, 10. " And they sung a new song, saying, Thou
art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof;
for thou wast slain, and bast redeemed to God by thy
blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and
nation; and hast made us unto our God kings and priests;
that we should reign on the earth."
1. Christians are kings.
When Christians are called kings, the Scriptures include
both what they actually have in this world, and what they
have in a future state. The reward which our Lord Jesus
promised to his disciples, was a kingdom. Luke xxii. 29.
" And I appoint unto you a kingdom, as my Father hath
appointed unto me." Christians, having this promise, are
therefore heirs of a kingdom here, which they are hereafter
to receive. James ii. 5. " Hearken, my beloved brethren ;
hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith,
and heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them
that love him ?"
The reward of the saints is represented as a kingdom,
because the possession of a kingdom is the height of hu
man advancement in this world, and as it is the common
opinion that those who have a kingdom have the greatest
possible happiness. The happiness of a kingdom, or royal
state, for which it is so much admired by mankind, con
sists in these things :
First. The honour of a kingdom.
Secondly. The possessions of kings.
Thirdly. The government or authority of kings.
Now with respect to each of these, the happiness of the
saints is far greater than that of the kings and greatest
potentates in the world.
First. True Christians will be advanced to honours far
above those of earthly kings, they will have a vastly higher
dignity than any princes. If these are nobly descended, it
is not so great an honour as to be the sons of God ; if they
are nobly educated, and have their minds formed for
government, and bave princely qualifications, these quali
fications are not so honourable as those with which God
endows his saints, whose minds he fills with divine know
ledge, and gives them true and perfect holiness. Princes
appear honourable from their outward enjoyment of honour
and dignity, their royal robes, their stately palaces, and
their splendid equipage. But these are not so honourable
as those white robes, those inherent ornaments, with which
the saints shall appear in heaven, with which they " shall
shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father."
What is a king's palace to those mansions in heaven, that
Christ prepares for his saints ? The honour of the creature
consists in likeness and nearness to the Creator in heaven.
The saints shall be like him, for they shall see him as he
is ; they shall be most near to him, shall be admitted to a
most intimate fellowship.
Secondly. The saints shall have greater and more exten
sive possessions than any earthly monarch. One reason
for which the state of kings is admired, is their wealth ;
they have the most precious things laid up in their treasures.
We read of the peculiar treasure of kings. Eccles. n. 8.
" I gathered me also silver and gold, and the peculiar
treasure of kings and of the provinces : I gat me men sing
ers and women singers, and the delights of the sons of men,
as musical instruments, and that of all sorts ; that is, the
peculiar treasure of other kings. David conquered and
subdued many kings, and spoiled their peculiar treasure,
which fell to his son Solomon.
But the precious treasures of kings are not to be com
pared to those precious things which Christ will give his
saints in another world ; the gold tried in the fire that
Christ has purchased with his own blood, those precious
jewels, those graces and jovs of his Spirit, and that beauty
of mind with which he will endow them. Kings posses
sions are very extensive; especially were they thus, when
kings were generally absolute, and their whole dominions,
their subjects and their fortunes, were looked upon as their

possessions. But these fall short of the extensive posses
sions of the saints, who possess all things ; they are the
heirs of God, and all that is God's is theirs so far as it can
contribute to their happiness. Rev. xxi. 7. " He that over
cometh shall inherit all things ; and I will be his God, and
he shall be my son." 1 Cor. iii. 21, 22. " Therefore let
no man glory in men, for all things are yours; whether
Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death,
or things present, or things to come ; all are yours."
Thirdly. The saints shall also be advanced to the
authority of kings. Christ has appointed to tbem a king
dom, and in that kingdom they shall reign. It is promised
concerning the saints, that they shall reign. Rev. v. 10.
" And hath made us unto our God kings and priests : and
we shall reign on the earth." Rev. xxii. 5. " And there
shall be no night there : and they need no candle, neither
light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light: and
they shall reign for ever and ever." It is evident that they
shall have a kingdom with respect to rule and government,
as appears, Rev. ii. 26, 27. " And he that overcometh, and
keepeth my works unto the end, to him will I give power
over all nations : and he shall rule them with a rod of iron;
as the vessels of a potter shall they be broken to shivers :
even as I received of my Father." But we must see that
we rightly understand this. They shall not be appointed
by Gud as sovereigns of the world, without any superior
to direct them ; neither shall they be properly deputies or
viceroys, as king Agrippa and some other kings were the
deputies ofthe Roman emperors ; but they sball reign in
fellowship with Christ as joint heirs ; they shall reign in
the same kingdom with him, and shall have the happiness
of having things done according to their will as much as if
their own wills were paramount. Christ wills their will.
All things will be disposed in the best manner for them, and
to promote their happiness. "To him that overcometh will
I grant to sit with me in my throne ; even as I also over
came, and am set down witb my Father in his throne."
The reigning ofthe saints will consist partly in judging;
for the saints shall judge the world, angels and men with
Christ. Matt. xix. 28. " And Jesus said unto them, Veri
ly I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the
regeneration when the Son of man shall sit on the throne
of his glory, he also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging
the twelve tribes of Israel." 1 Cor: vi. 2, 3. " Do ye not
know that tbe saints shall judge the world ? And if the
world shall be judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge
the smallest matters ? Know ye not that we shall judge
angels ? how much more things that pertain lo this life !"
How earnestly do men seek a kingdom ! What fatigues,
what dangers, what bloodshed, will they not encounter !
In seeking conversion, you seek a kingdom. You who are
poor, you who are children, have opportunity to obtain a
kingdom ; to advance yourselves to higher dignity, to more
substantial honours, to greater possessions, to more pre
cious treasures, to be clothed in robes of richer splendour,
and to fill a loftier throne, than those enjoyed by the great
est earthly monarchs. It is a crown that you are to run
for, an incorruptible crown, to be given you by the Great
King of heaven, and to be worn by you as long as his
throne shall endure. What encouragement is here afford
ed to the saints under afflictions and reproaches; what are
they, to the worth and honour of a heavenly kingdom ?
When you shall have a crown of glory placed on your
head, and be seated on Christ's throne, and shine forth
as the light, and are seated at his royal banquet, then you
will suffer no more for ever; all trouble, all reproach,
shall be driven away ; you will be too high to be reached
by the malice of men and devils, and shall soon forget all
your soitows. .
2. True Christians are priests of God. The priesthood
under the law was a very honourable and sacred office.
Heb. v. 4. " And no man taketh this honour unto him
self, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron." It was
on account of this honour that those proud men, Korah
and his company, envied Aaron ; and God asserted and
vindicated Aaron's right to it, by causing his rod to bud.
It was an honour which, before the giving of the law,
when every particular family was wont to offer sacrifices
for themselves, that the first-born used to claim, and
therefore the birthright was so much esteemed and valued.

942

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

Therefore Jacob had such a desire of having the birthright
of his brother Esau, and Esau's despising of it is spoken
of as a great instance of his profaneness. A priest is said
to be a chief man among his people. Lev. xxi. 4. " But
he shall not defile himself, being a chief man among his
people, to profane himself." Because the office of the
priesthood was so honourable, it is noticed as a wicked
contempt of it in several wicked kings, that they made of
the meanest of the people priests. The office was so
honourable, that a king, Uzziah, coveted the honour of it,
and it is mentioned as an instance of his pride that he did
so. 2 Chron. xxvi. 16. " But when he was strong, his
heart was lifted up to his destruction : for he transgressed
against the Lord his God, and went into the temple of the
Lord to burn incense upon the altar of incense.' And it
was a very sacred office, and that above all other offices ;
and therefore those things were forbidden the priest that
were lawful for all others ; such as to be defiled for the
dead, or to take to wife one that is put away from her hus
band ; and the reason is given, Levit. xxi. 6. " They shall
be holy unto their God, and not profane the name of their
God, for the offerings of the Lord made by fire, and the
bread of their God, they do offer ; therefore they shall be
holy. They shall not take a wife that is a whore, or pro
fane, neither shall they take a woman put away from her
husband ; for he is holy unto his God. Thou shalt sanc
tify him therefore, for he offereth the bread of thy God, he
shall be holy unto thee : for I, the Lord, which sanctify
you, am holy."
Jesus Christ is the only proper priest that is to offer
sacrifices, and make atonement for sin, under the New
Testament. He was the priest of whom all the priests of
old were typical. But yet all believers are herein in a
measure conformed to their head, and assimilated lo him.
The priesthood now is no longer confined to one family,
to Aaron and his sons, but all the true Israel are priests.
Every true Christian hath a work and office that is as sa
cred as that of the priests was under the law, and every
one is advanced to a like honour, and indeed to a greater.
But how every true Christian is a priest of God will ap
pear in the following things.
First. Every true Christian is allowed as near an access
to God, and as free a use of the sacred things, as the priests
were of old. God under the law dwelt in the tabernacle
and temple, that were the symbol of his presence, and those
places were holy. The seed of Aaron might go into the
holy place to minister before the Lord, but if any other
eame nigh, he was to be put to death. Numb. iii. 10.
" And thou shalt appoint Aaron and his sons, and they
shall wait on their priest's office : and the stranger that
cometh nigh, shall be put to death."
But now all are allowed to come nigh, we are all al
lowed a free access to God, to come with boldness and
confidence. God's people are not kept at such a distance
now as they were under the law. The church then was
in its minority, and the heir, while a child, differs nothing
from a servant. The servant is not allowed the free access
of a child, he is kept more at a distance with fear and
dread. Agreeably to the nature of that dispensation, there
were not those special discoveries of the grace and love of
God lhat are now made, and which invite rather than for
bid near access.
When God was wont to appear to the children of Israel,
it was more with terror and manifestations of awful ma
jesty, and not so much with the discoveries of grace as
now. When God appeared on mount Sinai, it was in
flaming fire, and with thunder, and lightning, and earth
quakes ; but in how different a manner did he appear,
when he appeared in the person of Christ, with mildness,
and gentleness, and love 1 There is much the same dif
ference between us and them with respect to the liberty of
access to God, as there was between the liberty of access of
the children of Israel at mount Sinai, and the liberty which
Christ's disciples had of approach to him when he was upon
earth. At mount Sinai, only Moses and Aaron, and Na-
dab and Abihu, were allowed to come up into the mount,
and none but Moses was to approach nigh. Exod. xxiv.
1. " And he said unto Moses, Come up unto the Lord,
thou and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of the
elders of Israel ; and worship ye afar off." But if any

other presumed to touch the mount, God would break
forth upon him. But Christ's disciples used daily to
converse with him, as an intimate friend. Heb. xii. 18.
" For ye are not come unto the mount that might not be
touched, and that burneth with fire, nor unto blackness,
and darkness, and tempest." Yea, Christians are now al
lowed as near an approach unto God, as the high priest
himself, who was allowed a much nearer approach than
any of the other priests. God's dwelling-place was the
temple, but more especially was it in the holy of holies,
in tbe mercy-seat between the cherubim. There was a
veil which separated that part of the temple from the rest,
and no one might ever enter that veil but the high priest,
and that but once a year; not oftener, upon pain of death.
Lev. xvi. 2. "And the Lord said unto Moses, Speak
unto Aaron thy brother, that he come not at all times into
the holy place, within the veil before the mercy-seat, which
is upon the ark, that he die not: for I will appear in the
cloud upon the mercy-seat." The way into the holiest of
all was not as yet made manifest, but now it is. Heb. ix.
7, 8. " But into the second went the high priest alone
once every year, not without blood, which he offered for
himself, and for the errors of the people. The Holy Ghost
thus signifying, that the way into the holiest of all was not
yet made manifest, while as yet the first tabernacle was
standing." But now we are all allowed as near an access to God
as the highpriest only was under the law, and with more
freedom, for he migbt approach but once a year ; but
Christians may approach boldly at all times, through the
blood of Christ, without any danger of dying. Heb. iv.
16. "Let us, therefore, come boldly unto the throne of
grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help
in time of need." The throne of grace and the mercy-
seat are the same thing. " Having, therefore, brethren,
boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus,
by a new and living way, which he hath consecrated for
us through the veil, that is to say, his flesh ; and having a
high priest over the house of God ; let us draw near
with a true heart, in full assurance of faith, having our
hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies
washed with pure water." That access into the holiest of
all was allowed to all under the gospel, and at any time :
it was signified by the rending of the veil upon the death
of Christ, for then was that blood shed by which we have
access. Matt, xxvii. 50, 51. " Jesus, when he had cried
again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. And, be
hold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the
top to the bottom ; and the earth did quake, and the
rocks rent."
But especially will the access of saints in another world
be much more near and familiar than that of the high
priest. They shall not only enter into the holy of holies,
but shall dwell with God in it, for heaven is the holiest of
all. They shall then dwell in God's presence, they shall
see his face, which no man can see and live.
In this world, though there is greater liberty of access
than there was of old, yet still Cbristians are kept at a
great distance from God in comparison of what they will
be in heaven, where they sball be admitted even to higher
privileges than Moses in the mount, when he besought
God to show him his glory. They shall then see with
open face, and shall know as they are known.
Secondly. Christians are a priesthood with respect to
their offerings to God. The principal part of the work of
the priests of old was to offer sacrifice, and to burn incense.
As the priests of old offered sacrifice, so the work of Chris
tians is to offer up spiritual sacrifices to God. 1 Pet. ii. 5.
" Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house,
an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable
to God by Jesus Christ." And here,
1st. Cbristians offer up their own hearts to God in sa
crifice : they dedicate themselves to God. Rom. vi. 13.
" Neither yield ye your members as instruments of un
righteousness unto sin : but yield yourselves unto God,
as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as
instruments of righteousness unto God.' The Christian
gives himself to God freely as of mere choice ; he does it
heartily ; he desires to be God's, and to belong to no
other ; he gives all the faculties of his soul to God. He

SERMON XIII.

943

gives God his heart, and it is offered to God as a sacrifice
in two ways.
Of these, the first is, when the heart is broken for sin.
A sacrifice, before it can be offered, must be wounded and
slain. The heart of a true Christian is first wounded by a
sense of sin, of the great evil and danger of it, and is slain
with godly sorrow and true repentance. When the heart
truly repents, it dies unto sin. Repentance is compared
unto a death in the word of God. Rom. vi. 6, 7, 8.
" Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him,
that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth
we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is freed from
sin. Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we
shall also live with him. Likewise reckon ye also your
selves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God
through Jesus Christ our Lord." Gal. ii. 20". " I am
crucified with Christ : nevertheless I live ; vet not I, but
Christ liveth in me ; and the life which I now live in the
flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me,
and gave himself for me." As Christ, when he was
offered, was offered broken upon the cross; so tbere is
some likeness to this, when a soul is converted ; the beart
is offered to God slain and broken. Ps. li. 17. " The sa
crifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken and a con
trite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."
The second way is, when a Christian offers his heart to
God, flaming with love. The sacrifice of old was not only
to be slain, but to be burnt upon the altar; it was to as
cend in flame and smoke, and so to be a sweet savour
to God.
That fire upon the altar was a type of two things ; it
was a type of the fire ofthe wrath of God, and it was also
a type of the fire of the Spirit of God, or of divine love.
The Holy Ghost is often compared to fire. With respect
to the former, Christ alone is the sacrifice offered in the
flame of God's wrath; but with regard to the latter, the
hearts of the children of men are offered in the flame of
divine love, and ascend up to God in that flame. This
divine love is fire from heaven, as the fire upon the altar
of old was. When a soul is drawn to God in true con
version, fire conies down from God out of heaven, in which
the heart is offered in sacrifice, and the soul is baptized
with the Holy Ghost and with fire.
In many of tbe sacrifices that were offered, only the fat
about the.inwards was burnt upon the altar; which fat of
the inwards thus rising in flame, represented the offering of
the soul. It is that which God looks at; it is that which
must be offered in sacrifice to God. Especially hereafter,
when the saints will be made priests in a more glorious
manner than at present, will they offer up their hearts
wholly to God in the flame of love. They shall, as it
were, all be transformed into love, as burning oil is trans
formed into flame ; and so, in that flame, shall they ascend
up to God. Their souls will be as the angels, who are as
a flame of fire not only for activity in God's service, but for
love too. They shall be a flame ever burning, which shall
burn longer than the fire upon the altar in Israel, that
never went out, from the time that fire came down out of
heaven in the wilderness, till the carrying away into
Babylon. 2d. This spiritual priesthood offers to God the sacrifice
of praise. Many of their sacrifices under the law were sa
crifices of peace-offerings, which were mostly for thanks
giving and praise. But the spiritual sacrifice of the hearty
and sincere praises of a saint, are more acceptable to God
than all the bulls, and rams, and he-goats that they offered.
The heartfelt praises of one true Christian, are of more ac
count with God than all those two and twenty thousand
oxen, and a hundred and twenty thousand sheep, which
, Solomon offered to God at the dedication of the temple, as
a sacrifice of peace-offerings. Praise is called a sacrifice.
Heb. xiii. 15. " By him, therefore, let us offer the sacrifice
of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips,
giving thanks to his name." Ps. 1. 13, 14. "Will I eat
the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats ? Offer unto
God thanksgiving, and pay thy vows unto the Most
High;" ver. 23. "Whoso offereth praise, glorifieth me ;
and to him that ordereth his conversation aright, will I show
the salvation of God -;" Ps. lxix. 30, 31.. " I will praise
the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with

thanksgiving. This also shall please the Lord better than
an ox or bullock that hath horns and hoofs." Praises are
therefore in Hosea called calves of our lips, because they are
like calves offered in sacrifice; Hosea xiv. 2. " Take -witb
you words, and turn to the Lord : say unto him, Take
away all iniquity, and receive us graciously; so will we
render the calves of our lips." Only true Christians offer
those sacrifices. However hypocrites pretend to praise
God, and to offer thanksgiving to him, yet they, being in
sincere, offer not sacrifices with which God is well pleased ;
they offer not spiritual sacrifices, and therefore they are not
of the spiritual priesthood. In heaven especially are the
saints a holy priesthood upon this account ; whose work it
is for ever to offer these sacrifices to God, who cease not
day nor night to praise God and sing forth their ardent joy
ful hallelujahs. They sing a new song, a song that never
will end, and never will grow old.
3d. The next sacrifice which is offered by this spiritual
priesthood, is obedience, sincere obedience. The sacrifices
under the law did not only represent Christ's satisfying for
sin by suffering, but they also represented Christ's obeying
in suffering; for the sacrifices under the law were not only
for propitiation, but they were for purchasing benefits, and
so typified not only the satisfaction, but merit, which was
by obedience. Ps. xl. 6, 7, 8. " Sacrifice and offering thou
didst not desire : mine ears hast thou opened; burnt-offer
ing and sin-offering hast thou not required. Then said I,
Lo, I come : in the volume of the book it is written of me,
I delight to do thy will, O my God; yea, thy law is
within my heart." And though the obedience of saints
has no merit, yet it is pleasing and acceptable to God; it
is as a sweet-smelling savour, and is compared to sacrifices,
and preferred before them. 1 Sam. xv. 22. "And Samuel
said, Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt-offerings and
sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord ? Behold, to
obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of
rams." Christians, by offering obedience to God in their
lives and conversation, do what the apostle calls offering
their bodies to be a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to
God, as their reasonable service. They offer their bodies,
that is, they dedicate their bodies, to holy uses and pur
poses ; they yield their members as instruments of righte
ousness unto holiness. The soul, whilehere, acts externally
by the body. And in this Christians serve God; they
yield their eyes, their ears, their tongues, their hands, and
feet, as servants to God, to be obedient to the dictates of
his word, and of his Holy Spirit in the soul.
4th. Another sacrifice which we shall mention as offered
by this spiritual priesthood, is charity, or expressions of
christian love in gifts to others. If the gift flows from a
spirit of christian love, although it be but a cup of cold
water, it is an acceptable sacrifice to God, And indeed
whatsoever is given for a pious use, if it be to promote re
ligion, and uphold the public worship of God, or to benefit
a particular person, if it be done from a good spirit, it is a
christian sacrifice. Heb. xiii. 16. "But to do good, and
to communicate, forget not ; for with such sacrifices God
is well pleased."
But sacrifices of this kind may principally be ranked
under two heads ; of which the first is,
Liberality to ministers of the gospel. The priests of old
lived upon the sacrifices that were offered to God, and
what is now offered to ministers for their comfortable and
honourable, support Christ looks upon as offered to him
self. " He that receiveth you, receiveth me." Matt. x. 40.
Thus Paul says of those things that were sent him by his
hearers, that it was a sacrifice acceptable and well pleasing
to God. Phil. iv. 14, &c. " Notwithstanding ye have well
done that ye did communicate with my affliction. Now,
ye Philippians, know also, that in the beginning of the
gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, no church com
municated with me as conceming giving and receiving,
but ye only. For even in Thessaionica ye sent once and
again unto my necessity. Not because that I desire a gift :
but I desire fruit that may abound to your account. But
I have all, and abound : I am full, having received of
Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you, an
odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well pleasing
to God."
The second is bounty to the poor. Christ accepts what

944

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

« _°je J° *m aS being done t0 nimself- Matt- xxv. 40.
And the King shall answer, and say unto them, Verily I
say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of
the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."
This God prefers before the legal sacrifices. Hosea vi. 6.
" I desire mercy, and not sacrifice; and the knowledge of
God more than burnt-offerings."
5th. Another offering of this spiritual priesthood to God,
is the prayer of faith. Though this is rather compared to
incense in Scripture than to a sacrifice, yet it is equally an
evidence of their priesthood. Incense was that sweet con
fection which we read of. Exod. xxx. 34. " And the Lord
said unto Moses, Take unto thee sweet spices, stacte, and
onycha, and galbanum; these sweet spices, with pure
frankincense ; of each shall there be a like weight."
These they were wont to bum upon the censer as they
offered it, which made a most fragrant smell. That in
cense is a type of the merits of Jesus Christ, and seems
also to be a type of the prayers of God's people in faith of
the former. It was the custom, when the priest in the
temple was burning incense, for the people to be praying
without. Luke i. 10. " And the whole multitude of the
people were praying without at the time of incense." And
gracious prayer is compared to incense. Psal. cxli. 2.
" Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense ; and
the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice." The
prayer of faith is as a fragrant savour to God, through tbe
merits of him towards whom that faith is exercised.

REFLECTIONS.
1. Here are great motives for all earnestly to seek that
they may become true Christians. It is a great honour to
be priests of God. It was a great honour of old to be a
priest under the law ; it was a greater in some respects
than to be a king; because they were nearer to God, and
they in their work were more immediately concerned with
him ; it was a more holy and divine office. But more
honourable is it to be of the spiritual priesthood. The
access to God is nearer, and an infinitely greater privilege.
Especially is the access to God which they will have in
another world, where they shall see God, and shall con
verse with Cbrist as a man with his friend. If ever a
king was ambitious of the honour of the legal priesthood,
surely you may well desire the spiritual, wbich is an
eternal priesthood.
Consider that you are capable of receiving this priest
hood. Of old, those who were not of the posterity of
Aaron, were incapable of the priesthood ; it was in vain
for them to seek it ; but it is not in vain for you to seek
this spiritual priesthood. Consider also that you have a
call to it, you have warrant sufficient. . It would be a
dreadful presumption for you to seek this honour if you
had not a call to it. Heb. v. 4. " No man taketh this
honour unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was
Aaron." But you are called ; and now it would be pre
sumption and profane contempt in you to refuse it ; to re
fuse such an honour as God offers you. Take heed,
therefore, that there be not among you any profane per
son as Esau, who for a morsel of meat sold his birthright,
and sold the priesthood that belonged to it. Take heed
that you do not sell this spiritual priesthood for a morsel
of meat, or for the trifles of this world, that you are not
more concerned about a little worldly pelf or vain glory,
than about that which is so sacred and honourable.
For direction, that you may be one of this spiritual
priesthood, seek of God his holy anointing ; that is, that
God would pour out his Spirit in his sanctifying influences
upon you. The priests of old were consecrated by the
holy anointing oil. Exod. xxix. 7. " Then shalt thou take
the anointing oil, and pour it upon his head, and anoint
him." Exod. xxx. 30. " And thou shalt anoint Aaron
and his sons, and consecrate them that they may minister
unto me in tbe priest's office." If you are here separated
for this holy station and service, you must.have that holy
anointing of the Spirit of God, typified by the oil that was
poured upon Aaron's head ; the holy anointing oil of God
must be upon you.
2. Let all who profess themselves Christians, take heed

that they do not defile themselves and profane their sacred
cbaracter. There was great strictness required of old of
the priests, lest they should defile themselves and profane
their office, and it was regarded as a dreadful thing to pro
fane it. So holy a God hath threatened in the New Testa
ment, that " if any man defile the temple of God, him will
God destroy." 1 Cor. iii. 17. As Christians are here
called the temple qf God, so it is said, in the fifth verse,
" Ye are a spiritual house, an holy priesthood." Avoid the
commission of all immoralities, or things that have a horrid
filthiness in them, things that will dreadfully profane the
sacred name by wbich you are called, and the sacred station
wherein you are set.
Take need especially of lascivious impurities. Such
things were looked upon as defiling the holy office of the
priesthood of old, insomuch, that if but a daughter of a
priest was guilty of whoredom, she was to be burnt. Re
member Hophni and Phineas, how sorely God dealt with
them for profaning their office by their impurities ; and
with good Eli, that he was no more thorough to restrain
them. God brought a curse upon the whole family which
never was removed. God took away the priesthood from
him, and took away the ark ofthe covenant from him and
from Israel, and delivered it into captivity, and fulfilled his
threatening, that there should not be an old man of his
house for ever.
Take heed of every sin : an allowing any sin whatever
is a dreadful presumption of your holy character.
3. See that you well execute your office. Offer up
your heart in sacrifice. Get and keep a near access to
God. Come with boldness ; offer up a heart broken for
sin ; offer it up flaming with love to God ; offer praise to
God ; praise God for his glorious excellency ; for his love
and mercy. Consider what great things you have to praise
God for ; the redemption of Jesus Christ, his sufferings,
his obedience, and the gift of that holiness, which makes
you like unto God.
Be ready to distribute, willing to communicate, and do
good ; consider it as part of your office thus to do, to
which you are called and anointed, and as a sacrifice well-
pleasing to God ; pity others in distress ; be ready to
help one another ; God will have mercy and not sacrifice.
And be much in offering up your prayers to God ; and
see that all your offerings are offered upon the right altar,
otherwise they will be abominable to God. Offer your
hearts to God through Jesus Christ. In his name pre
sent the sacrifice of praise, obedience, charity : of prayer
on the golden altar perfumed with the incense of Christ's
merits. Your reward will be to have this honour in
heaven, to be exalted to that glorious priesthood, to be
made a priest unto God for ever and ever.
III. True Christians are a holy nation. And here I
shall briefly show,
1 . How they are a distinct nation.
2. How they are holy.
1. Christians are a distinct nation.
First. The saints are all of the same native country.
Heaven is the native country of the church. They are
bom from above ; their Father, of whom they are begot
ten, is in heaven. The principles that govern their hearts
are drawn from heaven, since the Holy Ghost, whose im
mediate fruits those principles are, is from heaven. The
word of God, which is the seed by which they are begot
ten, is from heaven. The Bible is a book, as it were, sent
down from heaven. The saints in this world are not in
their native country, but are pilgrims and strangers on the
earth, they are near akin to the inhabitants of the heavenly
world, and are properly of that society. Heb. xii. 22, 23.
" But ye are come unto mount Sion, and unto the city of
the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innu
merable company of angels, to the general assembly and
church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and
to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men
made perfect." Heaven is a country that much better
suits their natures than this earth, because it is their
native climate. When they are in heaven, they breathe
their native air ; in heaven is their inheritance. Heaven
is the proper country pf the church, where the greater part
of the church is, and where they all will be, and where

SERMON XIIL

945

is their settied abode ; from thence all that are now upon
earth are derived, and thither they will return again.
Though they are for a little while dwelling at a distance
from their native country, yet they are ofthe same nation
with those who now dwell there.
Secondly. All Christians speak the same language.
They all profess the same fundamental doctrines ; they
hold fast the form of sounds that was once delivered to
the saints. 2 Tim. i. 13. " Hold fast the form of sound
words, which thou hast heard of me, in faith and love
which is in Christ Jesus." They all use the same
language to God in prayer and praise ; they express the
same humility and repentance in confessing their sins, the
same adoration and admiring sense of God's glory and
excellency, the same humble submission and resignation,
and the same thankfulness. In like manner do they show
forth God's praises, expressing the same faith and humble
dependence in the mercy of God, and the same love and
longing desires after God. The saints in all ages speak the
same language with David and the saints of old. The Spirit
of God teaches the saints the same language in their prayers ;
their pravers are the breathings of the same Spirit.
Indeed the saints while in this world are but learning
the heavenly language, and therefore speak it but imper
fectly, and with a stammering tongue, and with a pronun
ciation that in many things resembles their old language.
The tongues of the saints are renewed in their conversion.
Thus the conversion of the Gentiles is represented by their
having a new language. Zeph. iii. 9. " For then will I
turn to the people of a pure language, that they may
all call upon the name of the Lord, to serve him with one
consent." And in this sense is that also to be understood,
Isa. xix. 18. " In that day shall five cities in the land of
Egypt speak the language of Canaan, and swear to the
Lord of hosts : one shall be called, The city of destruc
tion." As it is said of the new song which the saints
sing, that no man could learn that song but those that are
redeemed from the earth, so no man can learn that lan
guage but those who are of this holy nation.
Thirdly. They are under the same government. The
Christians are one society, one body politic ; and there
fore, as here the church is represented by a nation, so
oftentimes is it called a city. 1 hey are subject to the same
King, Jesus Christ. He is the head of the church, he is
the head of this body politic. Indeed all men are sub
ject to the power and providence of this King ; but those
who are in his kingdom of grace, all acknowledge the
same King, own his rightful sovereignty over them, are
willing to be subject to him, to submit to his will, and
yield obedience to his commands. Ps. ex. 3. "Thy
beople shall be willing in the day of thy power, in the
beauties of holiness from the womb of the morning : thou
hast the dew of thy youth."
They are all governed by the same laws, and all subject
themselves to the same rules. The commands of God
that are obeyed by the saints, are the. same all over the
world. There is the same method of government, there
are the same means of government, tbe same outward
and visible means, the same officers, gospel, and gospel
ministers, in like manner appointed and sent forth by the
head of tbe cburch, the same visible order and disci
pline appointed for all. And there are the same inward
and special means of government. Christ governs his
people in a peculiar manner. He immediatelv influences
their wills and inclinations, and powerfully brings them
to a compliance with God's commands and rules. They
are a society united in the same public interest and con
cerns. It is by the same covenant and promises that they
have their inheritance, and that they hold their title to their
enjoyments, as a people of the same nation hold their
temporal rights by the same rule, and citizens hold their
rights by the same municipal laws. The prosperity of this
society tends to the advantage of the interests of the par
ticular parts. A Christian has the same reason to be con
cerned for the flourishing of the church, and the advance
ment of religion, as a particular subject has for the
flourishing of the nation or kingdom. When the church
is in flourishing circumstances, the' souls of particular
saints are like to be flourishing; and when the church
is in low languishing circumstances, particular souls are
vol. ii. 3 p

generally the same. When iniquity abounds, the love of
many waxes cold. As it is the interest of every subject to
have the nation flourish, so it is the interest of every
Christian to have the church to flourish. So Christians
have the same common enemies that seek their hurt and
overthrow. He that is an enemy to one saint as a saint,
is an enemy to all. They are jointly called to resist tbe
same powers of darkness ; the church here upon earth is
as an army that goes forth under Jesus Christ, the Captain
of their salvation, to resist the common adversary.

REFLECTIONS.
Be exhorted to join yourself to this nation. As it was
of old, those who were of other nations, if they were
brought to the acknowledgment of the God of Israel, and
to the true religion, and were circumcised, were received
as being of the nation of Israel, and were accounted as
those that were descended from Abraham and Jacob ; so
now is there free liberty to any to come and join them
selves to this nation, and they shall be received and ad
mitted to the same rights and privileges, and be in all
respects treated as the same people. And especially those
now under the gospel are invited to come. Let tbem be
who they will, they may come and join this people and
be welcome. There is no wall of partition to sepa
rate this people from others, to exclude those of other
nations. The gates of the new Jerusalem are always
open to receive all whose hearts incline them to come.
And here consider,
First. There is no nation under so happy a government
as this. The Lord Jesus Christ is their King, and he is a
most glorious King. He is the eternal and infinitely glori
ous Son of God. He is a most wise prince, he knows
how to govern, he perfectly understands how best to pro
mote the interest of his people. He is a most merciful
and gracious King, who greatly loves his people, and most
earnestly and faithfully seeks their interest His people
are redeemed with his own blood, and he will surely seek
their welfare. And he is a most powerful prince. He is
able to defend his people against all their enemies.
This nation is governed by most wise and righteous laws.
As it was said of Israel of old, Deut. iv. 8. " What nation
is there so great, that hath statutes and judgments so right
eous as all this law which I set before you this day ?' so
and more eminent is it true of the spiritual Israel, since
the law of God has been set forth to us in a far more clear
and lovely light, by the rules and precepts of the gospel.
The manner of Christ's government in the kingdom of his
grace is most excellent, and different from that of all other
kings ; for he governs by the powerful influence of his
Spirit upon the heart, whereby he sweetly inclines them to
a willing and chosen subjection to him.
This nation is a free people The happy government
under which they live, is most consistent with freedom ; it
does not in the least infringe upon the liberty of the sub
ject, there is nothing like slavery in the kingdom of God.
The law of this nation i6 a law of liberty. Those that
are sinners, are slaves ; they are slaves to tbeir lusts, slaves
to Satan, slaves to the cruellest of masters. But they
whom the Son makes free, are free indeed. The subjects
of the heavenly King are all as free under his government
as a man's children are in their father's house. The govern
ment is a paternal government ; the King looks upon all
his subjects as children.
Under so happy a government are this nation. Be per
suaded therefore to join yourself to them, and be of them.
Ps. cxliv. 15. " Happy is that people that is in such a case.
Yea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord." Ps.
xxxiii. 12." Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord ;
and tbe people whom he hath chosen for his own inheritance."
Secondly. There is no nation that dwell in such love and
peace as 'this holy nation enjoys. The happiness of a
people very much consists in its peace : a nation is never
more miserable than when it is rent by civil wars, or dis
turbed by intestine broils. Nothing tends more to the
happiness' of the people than when they are all united as
brethren, and with one heart seek the good of one another,
and the communitv.

946

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

But no nation enjoys so much happiness of this kind as
this holy nation. The Lord Jesus Christ, who is the King
of this people, is the Prince of peace ; his kingdom is a
kingdom of peace. Every member of this society has in
his heart a principle of peace and love. Love is the bond
of perfectness that unites the members of this society
together. They all have a disposition heartily to seek and
promote each other's good.
Thirdly. This nation have for their settled abode a most
glorious land. The heavenly Canaan is their land, it is a
land that God hath desired, and that he hath blessed above
all lands. There is no land so fertile of excellent fruits, so
full of delights. There grows the tree of life in plenty,
there flows the river of the water of life. There is no
curse, nothing that hurts or offends. This is a delightful
garden, this is the paradise of God. Hearken, therefore,
consider of the blessedness of this people ; is it not wed
to be one of them ? I would now invite you in the name
of Christ, as Moses invited his father-in-law to join him
self to that nation. Numb. x. 29. " And Moses said unto
Hobab, the son of Raguel the Midianite, Moses's father-
in-law, We are journeying unto the place of which the
Lord said, I will give it you : come thou with us, and we
will do thee good : for the Lord hath spoken good concern
ing Israel."
2. Christians, as a nation, are holy. Their holiness is
relative, and it is also inherent.
First. Christians are a holy nation by a relative holiness,
as they are set apart by God for a divine and holy use.
So things are often called holy in Scripture. The utensils
of the tabernacle and temple are in this sense called holy ;
the priests' garments are called holy, the places of worship
appointed of God in the Old Testament are called holy, be
cause they were set apart by him for a holy use and service.
Things thus set apart are said to be sanctified. Thus
Jeremiah is said to have been sanctified, before he came
forth out of the womb. Jer. i. 5. " Before I formed thee
in the belly, I knew thee, and before thou camest forth out
of the womb, I sanctified thee ; and I ordained thee a
prophet unto the nations." God sanctified, that is, God
set him apart for this holy use and service, to be a prophet
to the nations, as Paul says of himself, Gal. i. 15. " But
when it pleased God, who separated me from my mother's
womb, and called me by his grace." So the people of
Israel of old seem to be called a holy nation. Deut. vii.
6. " For thou art an holy people unto the Lord thy God :
the Lord thy God hath chosen thee to be a special people
unto himself, above all people that are upon tne face of the
earth." Not that they were a holy people by inherent
holiness, for God often tells them that they are a stiff-
necked people. But God had called and separated them
from other nations to be the keepers of the sacred oracles,
and for other purposes.
So the saints are a nation that God has set apart for a
sacred use. He hath set them apart to serve and glorify
him, and to show forth his praise ; to be vessels for their
Master's use, to see the manifestations of God's glory, and
eternally to ascribe the glory due to his name.
Secondly. They are holy by inherent holiness.
1 . By holiness of heart.*
2. By holiness of life*
IV. True Christians are God's peculiar people.
1 . True Christians are God's peculiar people with respect
to the value which he sets upon them. He values one true
Christian more than all the wicked in the world. God
puts a high value upon his saints ; they are his jewels.
God's high value of them appears in all the ways wherein
persons are wont to show the great regard which they have
for any possession. God keeps them as the apple of his
eye, he will by no means lose one of his saints, not one of
all the number shall fail, he will suffer no one to do them
harm, his almighty power is thoroughly engaged for them
to defend them.
The life, the happiness, and the welfare of the saints are
precious in God's sight. He shows the higher value that
he sets upon the godly than others, by giving the wicked
for them, making them subservient to tbem, and destroying
• These two bends are not filled up.

them when they stand in the way of the welfare of the
godly. Prov. xxi. 18. " The wicked shall be a ransom for
the righteous, and the transgressor for the upright."
Whenever the life or welfare of the wicked stands in
the way of the welfare of the righteous, God is wont to
procure the welfare of his people, though it be at the ex
pense of the lives and welfare of never so many. Prov.
xi. 8. " The righteous is delivered out of trouble, and the
wicked cometh in his stead." Thus God manifested how
much he valued the patriarchs. Though there were but
very few of them, yet even kings were rebuked for their
sakes. Ps. cv. 12, 13, 14, 15. "When they were but a
few men in number: yea, very few, and strangers in it.
When they went from one nation to another, from one
kingdom to another people. He suffered no man to do
them wrong ; yea, he reproved kings for their sakes ; say
ing, Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no
harm." So he showed how he valued the children of
Israel, in that he gave nations for them. Isa. xliii. 3, 4.
" For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy
Saviour ; I gave Egypt for thy ransom, Ethiopia and Seba
for thee. Since thou wast precious in my sight, thou hast
been honourable, and I have loved thee : therefore will I
give men for thee, and people for thy life."
When the Egyptians stood in the way of the welfare of
the church, God brought plagues upon them one after an
other, wherein he sorely distressed them. When their
lives stood in the way, God destroyed all the first-bom of
Egypt; and when Pharaoh and his host sought their
destruction, he drowned them in the Red sea, and when
the nations of Canaan stood in their way, God destroyed
them ; he destroyed many of them miraculously, by send
ing hail-stones from heaven upon them. God will sooner
at one blow destroy all the wicked of the world than that
one of his saints should be lost. There are many great
men of the world, kings and princes, men of great power
and policy, men of noble blood and honourable descent,
men of great wealth, men of vast learning and knowledge
in the world, that are honoured, and make a great figure,
and great account is made of them in the world, who are
wicked men and reprobates, and they all are not of so
great value in God's sight as one trae Christian, however
humble his birth and low his standing ; however poor, or
ignorant, or unknown.
God has shown how highly he values his saints by
several remarkable providences. He has often changed
and intercepted the course of nature for their sakes. No
thing except God himself is more constant and unchange
able than the course and laws of nature ; but yet so much
doth God value his saints, that he did not think the pro
curing of their welfare too slight an occasion for stopping
the sun in his course.
But above all hath God shown how great a value he sets
upon his saints, by the great price which he has paid for
them, the blood of his own Son. God values every saint
so highly that he bought him with the blood of his own
dear Son. There is no price of gold or silver that can be
compared with the price of the blood of Christ.
2. They are his peculiar people with respect to the
mercy that he bestows upon them. God bestows many
mercies upon ungodly men ; he is kind to the evil and
the good, to the just and the unjust. He is good to
wicked men in preserving their lives, in providing for their
subsistence, and in giving them many comforts. Wicked
men receive a great deal of goodness from God which they
have cause to admire, and be thankful for every day, and
but few live any considerable time who are not the sub
jects of special influences of God's goodness to them in
deliverance from trouble and danger. He heaps temporal
good things upon them, he gives them wealth, and ease,
and honour, and great prosperity. He distributes the
world among them, and they show their great ingratitude
in that, notwithstanding all God's bounty to them, they
will not learn righteousness. Isa. xxvi. 10. " Let favour
be showed to the wicked, yet will he not learn righteous
ness : in the land of uprightness will he deal unjustly,
and will not behold the majesty of the Lord." Thus
Samuel reproves Saul for his great ingratitude, that he

SERMON XIII.

947

took no more notice of the great kindness of God to him.
1 Sam. xv. 17. " And Samuel said, When thou wast little
in thine own sight, wast not thou made the head of the
tribes of Israel, and the Lord anointed thee king over
Israel ?" So there are many other wicked men that are
advanced to the state of princes and nobles.
But God bestows more goodness upon one godly man
than upon all the ungodly in the world. Put all their
preservations, all their deliyerances, all their wealth, all
their comforts that have been heaped upon them by pro
vidence together, those things are but trifles that God
bestows on ungodly men ; but they are peculiar blessings
which he bestows on the righteous, they are precious things
that God has in reserve for his own favourites, in com
parison of which all earthly treasure is but dirt and dross.
As for the saints, Christ has died for them, they have all
their sins pardoned, they are delivered from a hell of
eternal misery, they have a title to eternal life bestowed
upon them, tbey have God's own image conferred on
them, they are received into favour, and will enjoy God's
everlasting love.
3. They are God's peculiar people with respect to the
interest which he has in them. God has a peculiar interest
in godly men ; they are his peculiar property, they are his
* as they are redeemed by him, and as they have given
themselves to him. God has an interest in godly men's
hearts, they have a true love and respect to him ; they
bave true honour to him. God has a greater interest in
their bearts than any thing else, greater than the dearest
friend on earth, greater than the world or any earthly
enjoyment. They prefer God before all other things, they
preserve tbe throne of their hearts for God, they are of a
spirit to exalt him as the greatest and highest, to love him
as the most excellent, to praise him as the most gracious
and merciful.
God has no interest in the hearts of natural men. Many
of them seem to show respect to him outwardly. The
Pharisees of old pretended to an extraordinary devotion, to
a great love to God. And many hypocrites in these times
come before God as his people come, they seem as though
they deligbted to draw near to God, and make a high
profession of religion ; but God has indeed no interest in
their hearts. They give him the outward appearance, they
give bim tbe words of their lips, but their hearts are far
from bim. It is from respect to something else, and not
to bim ; they have not the least love to God.
But God bas an interest in the hearts of true Christians :
however small and inconsiderable it is in comparison of
what it ought to be, yet they are of a spirit to prefer God
above all. He has an interest in them, and they offer up
their bodies a living sacrifice to him ; they serve and
actively glorify him, with their bodies and with their
spirits. God is glorified in wicked men, as they are occa
sions of the manifestations of his glory, or as he glorifies
himself in them ; but Christians devote themselves to serve
and glorify God. Though it is but a small interest that
God has in the hearts of Christians in this world in com
parison of what ought to be, yet he hath a greater interest
in one godly man than in all the ungodly and hypocrites
that are in the world.
4. They are God's peculiar people, with respect to the
complacence which he hath in them. God takes delight
in his saints. Psal. xi. 7. " For the righteous Lord loveth
righteousness : his countenance doth behold the upright.
God doth as it were reioice over a convert, he delights in
beholding that beauty and those ornaments of mind which
he hath given him ; God takes delight in the graces of a
godly man's heart, and he delights in the good works and
religion of the Christian. Psal. xxxvii. 23. " Tlie steps
of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and he delighted
in his way." God takes delight in the godly man s
prayers Prov. xv. 8. " The sacrifice of the wicked is an
abomination to the Lord : but the prayer ofthe upright is
his delight." He takes more delight in the sincere humble
devotion of one true saint, than in all the moral virtue and
outward religion of all the natural men in the world, if
the wicked that are rich should offer to God ten thousand
sacrifices, or if they should devote ever so much of their
substance to religious uses, if they should give all their
goods to feed the poor ; it would not be so acceptable to
6 3 r 2

God, as one cup of cold water given by a saint with a
spirit of true charity. Ungodly kings may do much in
many respects for religion ; they may build stately
churches for the worship of God, they may encourage re
ligion in their dominions by their power and influence.
Cyrus, a heathen prince, restored the people of God from
captivity, and restored the state of the Jews. But God
has a greater delight in the sincere worship and love of
one poor, obscure Christian, than in all that is done
throughout the globe by irreligious kings and princes.
REFLECTIONS.
Hence it may well be expected of such as profess hopes
of their being true Christians, that they should live after a
peculiar manner, and be devoted to God for his use.
There should be a great difference between their way of
living and that of other men. Godly men should not be
hurried away by the general example. If any evil practice
is become a common custom, it may well be expected of
those who profess themselves godly, that they should stem
the stream of common custom and example, though they
are despised for it.
Men are ready often to plead for their neglect of such
and such duties, and the commission of such evils, that it
is a common custom. " Who is there," say they, " but
what does so ? I should be singular if I did otherwise."
But if evil things are common, God may well expect of
them that their way should be singular and peculiar, for
Christians are a peculiar people. There should be a
difference, and a great difference, between them and the
generality of the world ; if their neighbours, and relations,
and companions, fall in with the common custom, that is
evil, yet they should be peculiar, and stand alone.
It may well be expected that they should go further
than other men in doing their duty, and practising the
cbristian religion. For instance, it is a common thing for
men when they are affronted, or injured by then- neigh
bours, to entertain a spirit of revenge, to drink in a spirit
of ill will against their neighbour, and to wish him hurt.
But Christians should be peculiar; they should forgive
those that injure them, and not entertain any spirit of iii
will to them upon that account.
It is common for men when injured, to endeavour to
retaliate upon those that injure them in some way or other,
either by acting or talking against them ; but those who
call themselves godly, should choose no kind of revenge,
Matt. v. 38, 39." " Ye have heard that it hath been said,
An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth : but I say unto
you, That ye resist not evil : but whosoever shall smite
thee on tby right cheek, turn to him the other also." The
generality of men will love their friends, and hate their
enemies '; it is very rare that it is otherwise. Men pretend
that they do not hate their enemies, but they really do m
then- hearts. But Christians should be peculiar in this
matter, their way should be different from the way of the
world ; for they are a peculiar people, and they should love
their enemies from their hearts, and do good to them that
hate them. However rare it is that there is any such thing,
yet such a rare thing very well becomes God's peculiar
people. Matt. v. 43, 44, 45. " Ye have heard that it hath
been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine
enemy. But I.say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them
that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray
for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you :
that ye may be the children of your Father which is in
heaven : for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on
the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. '
It is a rare thing for persons to accustom themselves to
great self-denial. Many will indeed deny themselves
something for the sake of their duty, but if it very much
crosses their interest, there are few that will be stedfast in
their duty. But it may well be expected, that you should
greatly deny yourself for the sake of God and Christ, and
so be peculiar in this matter.
Self-interest governs tbe generality of men; they will
mind their own interest rather than any thing else. But
it may well be expected of those who profess godliness,
that they should show themselves peculiar m this matter,
and that thev should sacrifice their private, separate interest

948

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

to the glory and honour of God, and to the public good.
Most men will content themseives and quiet their con
sciences by avoiding the more gross acts of sin, by avoid
ing an outward gratification of lusts ; but it becomes
Christians to distinguish themselves here, and avoid sin
ning so much as in their thoughts, not to indulge any lust
so much as in their imagination.
It is a shame to professors of godliness that their light
shines no brighter before men, that there is no more ap
pearing in them of an amiable christian spirit, that they
do not seem to shine any brighter in their outward con
versation than many other men that do not make the pro
fession that they do. Many such men seem to be as exact,
and as careful to avoid sin, and to deny themselves, as
they ; yea, many, perhaps, that, for the outward practice
of some particular virtues, shine brighter than they, are
more liberal and kind, more courteous and obliging in
their behaviour.
It is expected of those that are of this peculiar people
that they should do more than others. Matt. v. 46, 47.
" For if ye love them which love you, what reward have
ye ? Do not even the publicans the same? And if ye
salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others ?
Do not even the publicans so ?" Let me then apply this
subject immediately to those who are present.
1. Here is a powerful argument to persuade those of
you who are impenitent to become godly, that if you will
forsake your sins, and with all your heart turn to God,
you shall become ofthe number of God's peculiar people.
You shall have the same privileges with those that have
been mentioned, you will immediately upon your conver
sion become one of those that God sets such a high value
upon. If you are assured of your conversion, you may
withal be assured that God, the supreme Lord of heaven
and earth, sets a higher value on you than upon all the
reprobates in the world, that God has set so high a value
upon you that he has given the blood of his own Son for
your ransom.
If you do savingly turn to God, you will receive from
God mercies and blessings greater in value than all the
wealth and outward prosperity of all the ungodly men in
the world. Put all the honour and all the wealth of the
great men of the world together ; put all that the kings of
the earth possess, their treasures and revenues, their do
minions and power, their stately seats and palaces, their
costly robes and dainties, together, and tbey will not
amount to so great things as God will bestow upon you.
If you will turn from your sins and come to Christ, the
great God will accept of you, and delight in you : you
then will have those spiritual ornaments that will be more
amiable in the sight of God, than all the learning, and
knowledge, and morality of all the ungodly men in the
world. If you continue in a natural condition, God will make
no account of you ; instead of being as his jewels, you
will be esteemed as vile and refuse, and fit for nothing but
to be trampled under-foot; instead of being gold, vou
will be esteemed as dross, Jer. vi. 30. " Reprobate silver
shall men call them, because the Lord hath rejected them."
Hereafter you will be thrown away as being good for no
thing, you will be esteemed nothing worth, as is represent
ed in that parable, Matt. xiii. 47, &c. " Again, the kingdom
of heaven is like unto a net that was cast into the sea, and
gathered of every kind : which, when it was full, they
drew to shore, and sat down, and gathered the good info
vessels, but cast the bad away. So shall it be at the end
of the world : the angels shall come forth, and sever the
wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the
furnace of fire; there shall be wailing and gnashing of
teeth." Yea, you shall not only be cast away as good for
nothing, but sball be cast out as filth into the great recep
tacle of the filth of the world ; you will be cast into a
furnace of fire, as barren branches are gathered up and
burnt. John xv. 6. " If a man abide not in me, he is cast
forth as a branch, and is withered ; and men gather them,
and cast them into the fire, and they are burned." Or as
barren trees are cut down and cast into the fire. Matt. iii.
10. " And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the
trees ; therefore every tree which bringeth not forth good
fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire." As the tares

were gathered together in bundles and burnt, you will be
looked upon as fit for nothing else but to be destroyed.
2 Peter ii. 12. " But these, as natural brute beasts, made
to be taken and destroyed, speak evil of the things that
they understand not, and shall utterly perish in their own
corruption." Instead of bestowing such peculiar mercies upon you,
you in a little time will be stripped of all mercy. God
will not have mercy on you, but your miseries will be as
dreadful as those mercies that God bestows on his saints
are valuable. They are but trifles that wicked men have
bestowed upon them while in this world, in comparison
of what the righteous shall have. The blessings of one
righteous are more in value than the enjoyments of all the
wicked. But hereafter wicked men will not have those ;
they will have nothing but the fiery wrath and indignation
of God for their portion.
While you are in a natural condition, instead of your
being God's peculiar ones with respect to the interest
which God hath in your heart, the devil has the greatest
interest in your heart. He has the government and pos
session there, and therefore you are, and will be, the devil's
people, those that he claims, and those that will certainly
fall to his share, at least if you continue in such a con
dition. Instead of being one in whom God has peculiar
complacence, he has no pleasure in you ; when you pre
tend to worship him, he has no delight in your hypocriti
cal prayers and services, but they are an abomination to
him. II. If you are true Christians, then let God be peculiar
with you.
1. Let God be your peculiar portion. If you are one of
his peculiar people, he is so. All who are God's people
have chosen bim for their God and portion. Do this more,
and more, and more. Let all other things be lightly set
by, and treated by you with neglect, in comparison of
God. Let God be the object of your peculiar value and esteem.
If God has made you one of those on whom he sets a
peculiar value, you who are a poor worthless worm, if he
has set such a value upon you, as to purchase you with the
price of the blood of bis Son, who are in yourself a filthy,
despicable creature, how much more reason is there that
you should peculiarly value God, who is so great and
glorious ! It is fitting that this value should be mutual ;
and it is fitting that it should be in an answerable degree.
It will be but a little thing for you to esteem God above
all in comparison of what it is for God so to prize his
saints. See to it therefore, that there be nothing that
stands in any competition with God in your esteem ; value
him more than all riches ; value his honour and glory more
than all the world ; be ready at all times to part with all
things else, and cleave to God. Let God be your peculiar
friend, and value his friendship more than the respect and
love of all the world. When you lose other enjoyments,
when you lose earthly friends, let this be a supporting,
satisfying comfort to you, that you have not lost God.
2. Let God be your peculiar confidence. There is great
encouragement in this doctrine for you to make him so,
and reason to enforce it as your duty. God expects that
those who are his peculiar people should put their trust in
him, and well they may do so, for' God has a peculiar
favour for them, and is peculiarly careful and tender of
them. Be sensible, therefore, that it is unbecoming any,
but especially those who are so near to God, and so fa
voured by him, to trust in their own righteousness, or in
any arm of flesh. The peculiar people of God should not
trust in themselves, they should not trust in friends, they
should not trust in great men, they should not trust in
their estates, or in any worldly enjoyment as expecting
happiness from it, but alone in the Lord God. He ought
to be their refuge and hiding-place : in time of trouble
they should hide themselves under the shadow of his
wings. 3. Make God the peculiar object of your praises. The
doctrine shows what great reason you have so to do. If
God so values you, sets so much by you, has bestowed
greater mercies upon you than on all the ungodly in the
world ; is it too little a requital for you to make God the
peculiar object of your praise and thankfulness ? If God

SERMON XIV.

949

so distinguishes you with his mercy, you ought to distin
guish yourself in his praises ; you should make it your
great care and study how to glorify that God who has been
so peculiarly merciful to you. And the rather because
there was nothing peculiar in you, distinguishing you

from any other person, that moved God to deal thus pecu
liarly by you. You were as unworthy to be set by as thou
sands of others that are not regarded of God, and are cast
away by him for ever.

SERMON XIV.*

Hebrews xiii. 8.
Jesus Christ, the same yesterday', to-day, and for ever.
The exhortation, which the apostle gives the christian
Hebrews in the verse preceding this, is to remember and
follow the good instructions and examples of their minis
ters, " Remember them who have the rule over you, who
have spoken unto you the word of God ; whose faith fol
low, considering the end of their conversation." The last
part of this exhortation is to follow their faith. By follow
ing their faith, the apostle seems to intend adhering to the
christian faith, and those wholesome doctrines which their
pastors taught them, and not depart from them, as many
in that day had done, to heretical tenets. And the en
forcement of the doctrine is in these words, " Considering
the end of their conversation, Jesus Christ, the same yes
terday, to-day, and for ever." Christ is the end of their
conversation, he is the end of their conversation in their
office, the end of the doctrines which they taught, and the
end of all their administrations, and all their labours in all
their work. And as he was so, they ought to follow their
faith, or cleave stedfastly to the doctrines they had taught
them, and not depart to other doctrines ; for Jesus Christ
was the same, yesterday, to-day, and for ever.
If they still professed to be Christians or the followers of
Jesus Christ, then they should still cleave to the same
doctrines that they were taught in their first conversion ;
they should still follow the faith of them, who had first in
doctrinated them in Christianity ; for Jesus Christ was the
same now that he was then, and therefore, Christianity
was obviously the same thing. It was not one thing now
and another when they were first converted, or even like
to any other thing than it always had been. Surely there
fore, when Christ and Christianity were thus unchange
able, he wouid therefore have them not fickle and change
able in their faith, not depart from their former faith, nor
be carried about with divers and strange doctrines, as it
follows in the next verse.
When it is said that Christ is the same yesterday, to-day,
and for ever, by yesterday is meant all time past; by to
day, the time present ; and by,/i»' ever, all that is future,
from the present time to eternity.
Doctrine. Jesus Christ is the same now that he ever has
been and ever will be.
Christ is thus unchangeable in two respects.
I. In his divine nature. As Christ is one of the per
sons of the Trinity, he is God, and so hath the divine na
ture, or the Godhead dwelling in him, and all the divine
attributes belong to him, of which immutability or un-
changeableness is one. Christ in his human nature was not
absolutely unchangeable, though his human nature, by
reason of its union with the divine, was not liable to those
changes lo which it was liable, as a mere creature ; as for
instance, it was indestructible and imperishable. Having
the divine nature to uphold it, it was not liable to fall and
commit sin, as Adam and the fallen angels did, but yet the
human nature of Christ, when he was upon earth, was
subject to many changes. It had a beginning ; it was con
ceived in the womb of the Virgin ; it was in a state of in
fancy, and afterwards changed from that state to a state of
manhood, and this was attended not only with a change
* April, 1738.

m"

on his body, by his increasing in stature, but also on his
mind ; for we read that he not only increased in stature
but also in wisdom. Luke ii. 52. And the human nature
of Christ was subject to sorrowful changes, though not to
sinful ones. He suffered hunger, and thirst, and cold ; and
at last he suffered dreadful changes by having his body
tortured and destroyed, and his soul poured out unto
death ; and afterwards became subject to a glorious change
at his resurrection and ascension. And that his human
nature was not liable to sinful changes, as Adam's or the
angels', was not owing to any thing in his human nature,
but to its relation to the divine nature which upheld it.
But the divine nature of Christ is absolutely unchange
able, and not liable to the least alteration or variation in
any respect. It is the same now as it was before the world
was created. It was the same after Christ's incarnation as
before, when Christ was born in a stable, and laid in a
manger, and underwent many changes on earth, and at last
suffered that dreadful agony in the garden, and suffered on
the cross ; it made no real alteration in the divine nature ;
and afterwards when Christ was glorified, and sat on the
right hand of the Majesty on high, it made no alteration in
his divine nature.
II. Christ is unchangeable in his office. He is un
changeable as the Mediator and Saviour of his church and
eople. That unchangeableness of Christ in his office of
"ediator, appears in several things.
1. This office never ceases to give place to any other to
come in his room : Christ is the only Mediator between
God and man, that ever has been or ever shall be. He is
an everlasting Saviour. There have been typical mediators
many, that have continued but a little while, and then have
passed away, and others have come in their room ; but the
great antitype continues for ever. There have been pro
phets, that have been raised up, and these have died, and
others have succeeded them. Moses was not suffered to
continue by reason of death ; and the dispensation which
he introduced was abolished, to give place to another which
Christ should introduce. Moses gives place to Christ,
but Christ never gives place to any other. John the Bap
tist was a great prophet. He was Christ's forerunner ;
like the morning star, the forerunner of the sun, he shone
bright a little while, but his ministry by degrees ceased,
and gave way to the ministry of Christ, as the morning star
by little and little goes out as the sun rises. John iii. 30.
John the Baptist says, " He must increase, but I must de
crease." But Christ's ministry never ceases. So the an
cient legal priests, they had but a changeable and short
lived priesthood. Aaron died, and his son Eleazar
succeeded in his room ; and so there were many priests,
one after another; but Christ continues a priest for ever.
Heb. vii. 23,24. And they truly were many priests; and
thev were not suffered to continue by reason of death ; but
Christ, because he continueth ever, hath an unchangeable
priesthood." These legal priests succeeded one another
by inheritance ; the father died and the son succeeded him,
and then he died and his son succeeded him ; but it is ob
served that Christ, in his priesthood, " is without father
and without mother, without descent." He had no ances
tor that went before him in his priesthood, or any posterity
that should succeed him in it. In that respect, Melchize
dek is a type of Christ, of whom the Scriptures give us an

950

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

account, that he was a priest, but seems not to have been
a priest by inheritance, as the sons of Aaron were : as Heb.
vii. 3. " without father, and without mother, and without
descent, having neither beginning of days, nor end of life,
but made like unto the Son of God, abideth a priest con
tinually :" and therefore it is said of Christ, Psal. ex. 4.
" The Lord hath sworn and will not repent. Thou art a
priest for ever after the order of Melchizedek." Those
things that appertain to Christ's priesthood are everlasting.
The tabernacle at which the priests of old officiated, was a
tabernacle that men pitched, and therefore a tabernacle that
was taken down. It was the holy of holies of old; but
Christ is a minister of the trae tabernacle and the true
sanctuary, which the Lord hath built, and not man. Heb.
v. 2. The holy of holies he entered into was heaven ; he is
priest in a tabernacle which shall never be taken down,
and in a temple that shall never be demolished. So the
altar on whicb he offers incense, the priestly garments or
robes in which he officiates, are not of a corruptible
nature. And so Christ is everlasting with reference to his
kingly office. David and Solomon were great kings, and
eminent types of Christ : but death put an end to their
kingdom and greatness. Earthly monarchies that ever
have been, those that have ruled over the bigger part ofthe
known world, as particularly the Grecian and Roman
monarchies, they have come to an end, but Christ's is an
everlasting kingdom, his throne is for ever and ever ;
Heb. i. 8. " Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever; a
sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy kingdom."
Though all other kingdoms shall be demolished, Christ's
kingdom shall stand for ever. Dan. vii. 13, 14.
2. Christ is at all times equally sufficient for the office
he hath undertaken. He undertook the office from eter
nity, and he was sufficient for it from eternity. He has
been in the exercise of his office from the fall of man, and
remains equally sufficient throughout all ages. His power
and his wisdom, his love, his excellency, and worthiness,
is at all times equally sufficient for the salvation of sinners,
and for the upholding and glorifying of believers. He is
for ever able to save, because he lives for ever. His life
is an endless and unchangeable life. He is made not
after the law of a camal commandment, but after the
power of an endless life. Heb. vii. 1 6. He is at all times
equally accepted as a Mediator in the sight of the Father,
who is ever well pleased in him. He is always equally
worthy and lovely in his eyes. He is daily his delight, re
joicing alwavs before him. The sacrifice that he has
offered, and the righteousness that he has performed, is at
all times equally sufficient. His blood is as sufficient to
cleanseaway sin now, as when it was warm from his wounds.
3. He is now, and ever will be, the same that he ever
has been, in the disposition and will which he exercises in
bis office. He is not changeable in his disposition, as men
are that are called to any office or business, which causes
them to appear and act very differently in their offices at
some times, from what they do at others. But Jesus
Christ is, in this respect, the same yesterdav, to-day, and
for ever. He is ever disposed to execute his office in a
holy manner. He ever has been, s,till is, and ever will
be, disposed to execute it so as to glorify his Father, to
discountenance sin, and to encourage holiness. He ever
exercised the same grace and mercy in his office. He
undertook the office of a Mediator from eternity with de
light. He then delighted in the thoughts of saving sinners,
and he still delights in it; he never has altered from the
disposition to accomplish it. When man actually fell and
became a rebel and an enemy, an enemy to his Father and
himself; still it was his delight to do tbe part of a Medi
ator for him. And when he came into the world, and
came to his last agony ; when the bitter cup that he was
to drink was set before him, and he had an extraordinary
view of it, so that tbe sight of it made " his soul exceeding
sorrowful even unto death," and caused him to " sweat as
it were great drops of blood ;" still he retained his disposi
tion to do tlie part of a Mediator for sinners, and delighted
in the thoughts of it ; so, even when he was enduring the
cross, the salvation of sinners was a joy set before him.
Heb. xii. 2. And he never alters from his readiness to
receive and embrace all that do in faith come to him ; he
"s always equally willing to receive such. His love is

unchangeable ; he loved from eternity : Jer. xxxi. 3. he
loved with an everlasting love ; and it will be to eternity.
John xiii. 1. " Having loved his own he loved them unto
the end."
4. Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, as
to the end which he aims at in his office. His supreme
end in it is the glory of God ; as particularly in vindicating
the honour of his majesty, justice, and holiness, and the
honour of his holy law. For this end did he undertake to
stand as a Mediator between God and man, and to suffer
for men, viz. that the honour of God's justice, majesty,
and law may be vindicated in his sufferings. And he also
undertook the office to glorify the free grace of God ; and
his special end in his undertaking was the salvation and
happiness of the elect. These two ends he has in his eye
in all parts of the work of his office ; and these two ends
he unchangeably aims at. These he sought on entering
into covenant with the Father from eternity. These he
has sought from the beginning of the world to this time,
and these he ever will seek. He does not sometimes pur
sue one end, and then alter his mind and pursue another;
but he ever pursues the same ends.
5. Christ ever acts by the same rules in tlie execution
of his mediatorial office.
The rules that Christ acts by, in the execution of his
office, are contained in a twofold covenant. ,
(1 .) The covenant of redemption, or the eternal covenant
that was between the Father and the Son, wherein Christ
undertook to stand as Mediator with fallen man, and was
appointed thereto of the Father. In that covenant, all
things concerning Christ's execution of his mediatorial
office, were agreed between Christ and his Father, and
established by them. And this covenant or eternal agree
ment, is the highest rule that Christ acts by in his office ;
and it is a rule that he never in the least departs from.
He never does any thing, more or less, than is contained
in that eternal covenant. Christ does the work that God
gave him to do in that covenant, and no other : he saves
those, and those only, that the Father gave him in that
covenant to save ; and he brings them to such a degree of
happiness as was therein agreed. To this rule Christ is
unchangeable in his regard ; it stands good with Christ in
every article of it, yesterday, to-day, and for ever.
(2.) Another covenant that Christ has regard to in the
execution of his mediatorial office, is that covenant of
grace which God established with man. Though indeed
this be less properly the rule by which Christ acts as
Mediator, than the covenant of redemption, yet it may be
called a rule. God does, as it were, make his promises
which he makes to his creatures, his rule to act by : i. e.
all his actions are in an exact conformity to his promises,
and be never departs in the least degree from them, as is
the case witb men with regard to what they make the rule
of their actions. Yet it is not a rale to God in the same
sense as a rale is to a created agent, which must be con
sidered as something antecedent to the purposesof the agent,
and that by which his purposes are regulated. But God's
promises are consequent on his purposes, and are no otlier
tban tbe expressions of them. And the covenant of grace
is not essentially different from the covenant of redemp
tion : it is but an expression of it : it is only that covenant
of redemption partly revealed to mankind for their en
couragement, faith, and comfort. And therefore tlie fact
that Christ never departs from the covenant of redemption,
infers that he will never depart from the covenant of
grace ; for all that was promised to men in the covenant of
grace, was agreed on between tlie Father and the Son in
tbe covenant of redemption. However, there is one thing
wherein Christ's unchangeableness in bis office appears :
that he never departs from the promises that he hath made
to man. Tbere is the same covenant of grace in all ages of
the world. The covenant is not essentially different now
from what it was under tlie Old Testament, and even be
fore the flood ; and it always will remain tbe same. It is
therefore called an everlasting covenant, Isa. Iv. 3.
And as Cbrist does not alter his covenant, so he un
changeably fulfils it : he never departs in the least jot or
tittle. Thougb he has given exceedingly great and pre
cious promises to those that believe in him, he ever fulfils
them all. Heaven and earth shall sooner pass away, than

SERMON XIV.

951

one jot or one tittle of his promises shall fail, till all be
fulfilled. It is especially on account of his unchangeable-
ness with respect to his promises, that he styles himself,
" 1 am that I am," and is called " Jehovah," Exod. iii. 14.
and vi. 3. Christ revealed himself to the children of Is
rael, in their Egyptian bondage, by this name, to encourage
tbe people that he would fulfil his promises made to
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
5. He is in many respects unchangeable in the acts
which he exercises in his office. He is unchangeable in
his acceptance of those that believe in him, and never will
reject them ; and he is unchangeable in his complacency
and delight in them. He is unchangeable in his interces
sion for his church and people. He ever lives to make
intercession. Heb. vii. 25. His intercession before God
in heaven is a continual intercession. It is a constant
presentation of his will before the Father for the salvation
. and happiness of those that are his in the virtue of his
blood. And as Christ is unchangeable in his intercession,
so he is unchangeable in upholding and preserving those
that are his, and ordering all things for their good, until
they are brought to his heavenly glory. He is constant
and unchangeable in taking care of them in all respects,
and will hereafter receive them to a constant and un
changeable enjoyment of himself.

APPLICATION.
I. We learn from the truth taught in the text, how fit
Christ was to be appointed as the surety of fallen man.
Adam, the first surety of mankind, failed" in his work, be
cause he was a mere creature, and so a mutable being.
Thougb he had so great a trust committed to him, as the
care of the eternal' welfare of all his posterity, yet, not
being unchangeable, he failed, and transgressed God's
holy covenant. He was led aside, and drawn away by
the subtle temptation of the devil. He being a change
able being, his subtle adversary found means to turn him
aside, and so he fell, and all liis posterity fell with him.
It appeared, therefore, that we stood in need of a surety
that was unchangeable, and could not fail in his work.
Christ, whom God appointed to this work, to be to us a
second Adam, is such an one that is the same yesterday,
to-day, and for ever, and therefore was not liable to fail in
his undertaking. He was sufficient to be depended on as
one that would certainly stand all trials, and go through
all difficulties, until he had finished the work that he had
undertaken, and actually wrought out eternal redemption
for us.
II. This truth mav be well applied to the awakening of
those who profess to'be Christians, and this on several ac
counts. You mav be hence assured that Christ will fulfil
his threatenings that he has denounced against unbeliev
ers. There are many awful threatenings which Chnst has
denounced against wicked men. Christ has threatened
woe to this wicked world; Matt, xviii. 17.; and has de
clared concerning all, that do not believe, that they shall
be damned. This is that which Christ gave in charge to
his disciples before his ascension, when he sent them forth
to preach, and teach all nations. Mark xvi. 15, 16. " Go
ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every crea
ture. He that believeth shall be saved, and he that be
lieveth not shall be damned." So Christ declares that
every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, shall be hewn
down, and cast into the fire. Matt. vii. 18. And he has
especially threatened an awful punishment to gospel sin
ners. He has declared that every branch in him that
beareth not fruit shall be cut off, and cast forth, and ga
thered up and burnt ; and that, however wicked men and
false Christians may dwell among the godly, as tares grow
among wheat, yet when the harvest comes, and the wheat
is gathered into the barn, the tares shall be gathered into
bundles, and burnt. Matt. xiii. 30. And in the explica
tion of the parable, he says, that, at the day of judgment,
" the Son of man shall send forth his angels, and they
shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and
them that do iniquity, and shall cast them into a furnace
of fire, where shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth, ver.
41 42 So he declares in Matt. vm. 21. concerning

those visible Christians that say to him, " Lord, Lord,"
and that do not do the will of his Father which is in heaven,
that he will hereafter profess unto them, that he never
knew them, and that be will say unto them, " Depart
from me, ye that work iniquity ; " and that those that build
their house on the sand shall fall, and that great shall be
tlieir fall ; and that such as these shall see many coming
from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and
from the south, and sitting down with Abraham, and
Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of God, and themselves
thrust out ; and he teaches in his parables that unprofit
able servants, and those that as professing Christians come
to the gospel feast without the wedding garment, shall be
bound hand and foot, and cast into outer darkness, where
shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. He often de
nounces woe on hypocrites ; and threatens concerning
such as begin a life of religion and do not finish, and are
not thorough and persevering in it, that they shall come
to shame ; that those who are foolish virgins, that take
their lamps and take no oil with them, shall at last be
shut from the marriage when others enter in with the
bridegroom, and that when they come to the door thev
shall find it shut, and shall cry, " Lord, Lord, open to us,"
in vain ; and that, at the day of judgment, Christ shall
separate the righteous from the wicked, as a shepherd di-
videth his sheep from the goats, setting the righteous on
tho right hand, and the wicked on the left ; and that he
shall say to the wicked, " Depart, accursed, into everlast
ing fire, prepared for the devil and his angels ;" and that
the wicked shall go away into everlasting punishment.
And particularly he has threatened concerning them that
have not a spirit of self-denial, that do not cut off a right
hand or a right foot, nor pluck out a right eye, that they
shall go with two hands, or two feet, or two eyes, into hell-
fire, into the fire that never shall be quenched, where the
worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. And that
those that have not a spirit to sell all for his sake, and
that do not in comparison of him hate father, and mother,
and wife, and every earthly relative and earthly possession,
sball not he acknowledged of him as his disciples. And
concerning those that are ashamed of religion before men,
that of them will he be ashamed before his Father and
before the angels : and concerning those that are of a re
vengeful spirit, and not of a spirit of forgiveness, that they
shall not be forgiven : and concerning all that are of a
malicious spirit, and not of a spirit of Christian love and
meekness, that are of an angry, wrathful, and scornful dis
position, that say to their brother, " Raca," or " Thou
fool ;" that they shall be in danger of everlasting punish
ment proportioned to the heinousness of their crimes.
And concerning worldly-minded men he has declared,
that 'tis impossible for those that trust in riches to enter
into the kingdom of God. Concerning such he has said,
" Woe unto you that are rich, for ye have received your
consolation ; and woe unto you that are full, for ye shall
hunger ;" and concerning such as are addicted to carnal
mirth and jollity, he says, " Woe unto you that laugh now,
for ye shall mourn and weep " And he has abundantly
declared concerning gospel sinners, that their punishment
shall be far more dreadful than that of the worst of the
heathen ; that it shall be more tolerable even for Sodom
and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for them ; and
he has declared that those, that are once cast into hell,
shall in no wise come out thence, until they have paid the
uttermost farthing.
Such things as these did Christ threaten against the un
godly wben he was here upon earth. And by the doctrine
of the text you leam, that he now is and ever will be the
same that he was then. He has not at all altered, no, nor
ever will ; but these dreadful things, that he has threatened,
he will surely fulfil. Christ was no more disposed to
threaten, tban to fulfil his threatenings. Christ is as holy,
and his nature and will is as averse to sin now as ever it
was ; and he is as strictly just now as he was then.
Therefore, let no Christless person flatter himself, that,
continuing such, he shall by any means escape punish
ment. Christ's threatenings are the threatenings of one,
lhat is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, and what
be bas threatened with bis mouth he will fulfil with his
hands. When Christ appears at the day of judgment, and

952

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

you shall stand at his bar to be judged, you will find him
in judging, just what he was, and just what you find him
in your Bibles, in threatening.
III. The truth in the text may be applied by way of
reproof. 1 . To those that have been heretofore under awakenings,
but have now become senseless and careless. This doc
trine shows your folly. You act as if Christ were altered,
as though he were not now so dreadful a Judge, and his
displeasure not so much to be feared, as heretofore. Time
was, when you were afraid of the displeasure and wrath
of Christ. You were afraid of the dreadful sentence from
his mouth, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." And
why is it so much otherwise with you now ? Is not the
wrath of this Judge as much to be dreaded now, as ever
it was ? Time was, when those threatenings, that Christ
has denounced against sinners, were terrible things to you ;
and why do you make so light of them now ? Is this your
great Judge grown weaker than he was, and less able to
fulfil his threatenings ? Are you less in his hands than you
were ; or do you imagine that Christ is become more re
conciled to sin, and has not such a disposition to execute
vengeance for it as he had ?
Time was, that you seemed to feel vourself to be in la
mentable circumstances that you had not an interest in
Chrigt, and to have a great mind to get an interest in him:
You sought it, and prayed to God daily for it, and took
considerable pains, and went and asked others, what vou
should do to obtain an interest in Christ. Why is it that
you are so much more careless about it now ?' Is Christ
altered ; is an interest in him less valuable, or less neces
sary, now, than it was then ? Was acceptance with him
worth earnestly seeking, and praying, and striving for
then, and is it good for nothing now ? Did you stand in
great need of it then, and can you do well enough without
it now ?
Time was when you seemed to be much, concerned
about your having been guilty of so much sin against God
and Cbrist, and, it may be, wept about it in your prayers.
But now, you are not concerned about it. The thought of
your having so often and so greatly offended him, does not
so much trouble you, but that you can be easy and quiet,
and have your heart taken up about one vanity or another,
without being very much disturbed with the thoughts of
your sins. Then you used to be careful to avoid sin ; you
were watchful to avoid those things that were forbidden in
God's holy word ; you were careful that you did not sin
by profaning the sabbath, or by unsuitably spending the
time in God's house, or by neglecting the duties of reading
and prayer. You were careful of your behaviour among
men, lest you should transgress. If you suspected any
thing to be sinful then, you dared not do it. But now
there is no such care upon your spirit, there is no such
watch maintained, you have no such guard upon you.
But when you are tempted to do or omit any thing, it is
not a thought coming with weight upon your heart, " Is
this sinful or not ? " " Is this contrary to the mind and will
of God, or not ? " You do not dwell long on such kind of
thoughts as these ; you are grown very bold, and live in
neglects and practices that are sinful, and that you have
light enough to know to be so : just as if you thought
that Christ's disposition, with respect to sin, was altered ;
and that he was less an enemy to sin now than he was
then. Instead of being less an enemy to sin than you
then thought he was, and instead of being a less dreadful
Judge of ungodly men than you then imagined, or had a
sense of in your heart, he is a thousand times more so :
for then, when you was most awakened and convinced,
you conceived but very little of what is in reality ; you
apprehended very imperfectly the enmity of Christ's
nature against sin, and the dreadfulness of his wrath against
the ungodly. It was but a little sense you had of it.
His wrath is infinitely more dreadful than ever you have
yet had any conception of.
And though Christ be unchangeable, yet you are not.
You are changed for the worse, since the time when you
were awakened. Christ is equally an enemy of sin, and
you are become more sinful than you then were. Christ's
wrath is in .itself equally dreadful as it then was; but
you have far more reason to dread it than you had then,

for you are in much greater danger of it ; and, if you do
not repent, are much nearer to tbe execution of it. And
not only so, but you are now exposed to much more of
that wrath. Christ's wrath hung over your head then, and
so it does now, but with this difference, that now much
more of that wrath hangs over you than did then. You
hung over the pit of hell then, and so you do now ; but
with this difference, that you have ever since been kindling
and enraging the flames of that fiery gulf over which you
hang, so that they are vastly fiercer than they were then ;
and the moth of time has been nibbling at that slender
thread ever since, and has much nearer gnawed it off than
it had then. And your heart is far more hardened than it
was ; and the devil has faster hold of you, and the way
to escape is more blocked up ; and vour case upon many
accounts is inexpressibly more doleful, however much
more careless and unconcerned you are about your own
circumstances. 2. This docirine reproves all that have entered into the
bonds of the Christian covenant, and have proved false to
it. If Christ be the same yesterday, to-dav, and for ever,
and is always the same towards us in fulfilling as he is
in promising, then surely we ought to be so towards him.
If he never breaks covenant with his people, then they are
greatly to be reproved who are false and treacherous in
their dealings with him. Therefore this reproves a cove
nant people that depart from Christ, and break covenant
with bim ; as we in this land have done, having greatly
revolted and degenerated both from the pure profession
and religious practice of the first times of the country.
Though Christ and his doctrine, and the religion that he
taught, are always the same, yet this country has great
multitudes in it that are driven to and fro by every wind
of doctrine, and has now for a long time been exceedingly
corrupted by the prevalency of many evil customs anil
practices. And by this doctrine is every particular person reproved,
that does not take care to keep covenant with Christ. We
are in general under the solemn bonds of our baptismal
covenant ; and that covenant, that was sealed in our bap
tism, most of us have explicitly owned, and expressly
and solemnly promised to walk in, in a way of obedience
to all the commands of God, as long as we live ; and
have, time after time, in the most solemn manner, sealed
this covenant anew, by taking the body and blood of
Christ upon it at the Lord's supper. They bring dreadful
guilt on themselves who are not careful to fulfil such
vows ; they that have solemnly vowed to obey Christ in
all his commandments as long as they live, and have
sealed these vows by eating and drinking at the Lord's
supper with far greater solemnity than if they sealed it
witb as many solemn oaths, yet live in ways of sin, live
in the neglect of several commanded duties, and in the
commission of forbidden sin ; or at least do not make it
the care of their lives strictly to keep Christ's commands ;
surely such persons render themselves very guilty.
3. This doctrine reproves those that have been seemingly
pious, and have fallen away to ways of sin. Who these
persons are, their own consciences are better able to judge
than those that are about them. There are many here
present, that in times past have been seemingly pious;
and let every one inquire at the mouth of his own con
science, whether his seeming piety holds on ; whether it
be not come to an end. If you find reason, by a serious
and strict examination, to conclude that you are one of
them, consider how vile is your treatment of him, who is
the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, and who never is
false to any to whom he once manifests his favour. How
greatly doth God complain of such short-lived religion in
the Scriptures ! Hos. vi. 4. " O Ephraim, what shall I do
unto thee ? O Judah, what shall I do unto thee ? for
your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the early
dew it goeth away." Psal. lxxviii. 57. "They tempted
and provoked the most high God, and kept not his testi
monies, but turned back and dealt unfaithfully like their
fathers ; they were turned aside like a deceitful bow."
4. Hereby the truly godly are greatly to be reproved for
their declension. There are manv such here, as I charit
ably hope, and many of tliem I fear have been guilty of
great declension in religion. Formerly they were lively

SERMON XIV.

953

and animated in religion, now they are dull and indifferent;
formerly their hearts went up on "high after God, but now
after the world ; they carried themselves for a while very
exemplarily, but have since behaved in sucb a manner as
to wound religion. Why will you be guilty of such a de
parture from your Redeemer, who changes not witb regard
to you ? His love he formerly manifested towards you,
but it does not change ; it has ever held up to the same
height ; his faithfulness never has failed to you ; why
then does your love so languish towards him, and why
are you so unfaithful to him? He keeps up the same
care and watchfulness towards you, to preserve you, to
provide for you, to defend you from your enemies, and
why will you suffer your care and strictness to serve and
please Christ, and honour him, to fail in any measure.'
When you were first converted, your heart seemed to
be wrapt up in love to Christ, and delight in him and his
praises. You were then continually meditating on Christ
and the things of Christ, and your meditations on him
were sweet ; and you were then much in speaking of those
things, and you delighted to speak of them. And why is
it so much otherwise with you now? Is Christ less ex
cellent than he was then? is he less worthy of your love?
5. This doctrine affords matter of reproof to us of this
town, for our declining is much from what we have lately
been. That we have exceedingly declined in religion, is
most manifest, and what all confess. A little while ago
Christ was the great object of regard among us. The
hearts of the people iu general were greatly engaged about
Christ; as though Christ had been all, and the world
nothing. There was then a great deal of conversation
among all sorts of persons, and in all companies, of Christ.
They who thought they bad no interest in Christ, were
full of concern bow to obtain an interest in him ; and they
were almost ready to neglect their worldly concerns, as
though Christ was all they needed. And with regard to
those that thought they had obtained an interest in Christ,
their thoughts and their conversation seemed also to be
very much taken up about Christ. They were much en
gaged in talking of the excellency of Christ, and seemed
to be full of the grace and dying love of Christ. And one
and another of you expressed the strong sense you had of
one perfection and excellency and another of Christ, and
of the glory of the works that he has done, and of the
sweetness of the words that he speaks. The town seemed
to be full of the praises of Christ. You expressed to one
another how you earnestly longed to praise him and bless
his name for ever and ever, and how you desired that
others should help you to praise him. The benefits pro
cured by Christ were then greatly valued in the town, and
both Christ and his benefits were then precious among us.
And multitudes seemed to be concerned, what they should
do for the honour of Christ, how they should live to his
glory, and do something for the advancement of his king
dom in the world. But now, how much otherwise is it;
how little is Christ set by, in comparison of what he has
been; how much is be neglected, how much is he
dropped out of people's common discourse and conversa
tion ! How have many of you left off earnestly following
after Christ, to pursue after tbe world ; one to pursue
after riches, another to be engrossed by amusement and
diversion, another by fine clothes and gay apparel ; and
all sorts, young and old, have gone their way wandering
in a great measure from Christ : as though Christ was
not as excellent now as he was then ; as though his grace
and dying love were not as wonderful now as they were
then ; as though Christ were not now as much preferable
to the world, as worthy to be loved, and to be praised, to
be thought of, and talked of; and as though he was not
•as worthy that we should be concerned to honour him,
and live to bis praise, as ever he was. If Christ be as much
altered as the town is altered, he is altered very much in
deed. Are we so foolish as to think that he, that is the
same yesterday, to-dav, and for ever, is so much altered
from what he was three years ago ?
IV. The truth taught in the text may be applied by way
of encouragement.
1 . To sinners, whose minds are burdened and exercised
with concern about the state of their souls, to come to
Christ, and put their trust in him for salvation. If Christ

is now and ever will be the same that he ever was, then
here is great encouragement for you to come to him ; as
will appear by considering two things.
First. How Christ has invited you to come to him,
with promises that he will accept of you, if you do so.
Christ in his word often invites those that are in your cir
cumstances ; whether we consider your circumstances as
a lost sinner, or as a sinner under anxiety and concern
about your condition. If we consider your circumstances
merely as a lost sinner, Christ invites you ; for he is often
inviting and calling on sinners to come to him. Prov.
viii. 4. " Unto you, O men, I call, and my voice is to the
sons of men." And chap. ix. 4, 5. " Whoso is simple,
let him turn in hither; and ye that want understanding,
come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine that I have
mingled." Rev. iii. 20. " Behold, I stand at the door
and knock." Rev. xxii. 17. "The Spirit and the bride
say, Come." Or if we consider your circumstances as a
sinner burdened in your soul with concern about your
condition ; such are especially invited by Christ. Matt.
xi. 28. " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest." And Isa. Iv. i. " Ho
every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters;" and
John vii. 37. " If any man thirst, let him come unto me
and drink." That Christ is the same yesterday, to-day,
and for ever, shows what a joint encouragement these in
vitations are for you to come to Christ in two ways :
(1.) It shows that as Christ invited such sinners, when
these invitations were spoken and penned, so he does
now, for he is the same now that he was then ; so that
you are to look on the invitations that you find in your
Bible, not only as invitations that were made then when
they were first spoken or written, but that are made now.
Christ makes them now as much as he made them then.
Those invitations which proceeded out of Christ's mouth
when he was on earth, are made to you now as much as if
they now this moment proceeded from Christ's mouth ;
for there is no alteration in Christ ; he is the same as ever
he has been ; so that when you read or hear any of the in
vitations of Christ, you may look upon them as if they now
came from his blessed lips.
(2.) It shows that if you come to Christ, he will surely
prove to be the same in accepting lhat he is in inviting.
Christ will be consistent with himself. He will not appear
one way in calling and inviting you, and then another way
in his treatment of you when you come to accept of his
invitation. Christ will not appear with two faces, with a
pleasant winning face in inviting, and with a frowning
countenance in bis treatment of persons that come at his
call ; for he is ever the same. You see that Christ is ex
ceedingly gracious and sweet in his invitations ; and he
surely will be as gracious and sweet in his acceptance of
you; if you close with his call. And then Christ does
not merely invite, he also promises, that if you accept of
his invitation, he will not reject you. John vi. 37. " Him
that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." He that
is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, will be found
the same in fulfilling that he is in promising.
Secondly. How Christ has treated those that have come
to him heretofore. Christ in times past has graciously
received those that have come to him ; he has made them
welcome ; he has embraced them in the arms of his love ;
he has admitted them to a blessed and eternal union with
himself, and has given them a right to all the privileges of
the sons of God ; and he is the same still that he has been
heretofore. We have an account in Scripture of many
that came to him ; we have an account in the history of
Christ's life of many that accepted his calls, and we have
an account in the book of the Acts of the Apostles, of
multitudes that believed in him ; but we read of none
that ever were rejected by him. And we ourselves have
seen many that we have reason to think Christ has ac
cepted on their coming to him, many that have been great
sinners, many that have been old hardened sinners, many
that had been backsliders, and many that had been guilty
of quenching the Spirit of God. And he is the same still ;
he is as ready to receive such sinners now as he was then.
Christ never yet rejected any that came to him : he has
always been the same in this respect; he is so now; and
so he surely will be still.

954

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

2. There is in this doctrine great encouragement to all
persons to look to Christ under all manner of difficulties
and afflictions ; and that especially from what appeared in
Christ when he was here. We have an account, in the
history of Christ, of great numbers under a great variety
of afflictions and difficulties, resorting to him for help ;
and we have no account of his rejecting one person who
came to him in a friendly manner for heip, under any dif
ficulty whatever. But on the contrary, the history of his
life is principally filled up with miracles that he wrought
for the relief of such. When they came to him, he pre
sently relieved them, and always did it freely without
money or price. We never read of his doing any thing for
any person as hired to it, by any reward that was offered
him. And he helped persons fully, he completely deliver
ed them from those difficulties under which thev laboured.
And by the doctrine of the text we learn that though he is
not now upon earth, but in heaven, yet he is the same
that he was then. He is as able to help, and he is as ready
to help under every kind of difficulty. Here is great en
couragement for persons who are sick to look to Christ
for healing, and for their near friends to carry their case to
Christ ; for how ready was Christ, when on earth, to help
those that looked to him under such difficulties ! and how
sufficient did he appear to be for it ; commonly healing by
laying on his hand, or by speaking a word ! And we read
of his healing all manner of sickness and all manner of
disease among the people. Persons under the most ter
rible and inveterate diseases were often healed. And
Christ is the same still. And here is great encouragement
for mourners to look to Christ for comfort ; we read of
Christ's pitying such ; as in the case of the widow of
Nain, Luke vii. 12, 13, &c. " And so he wept with those
that wept, and groaned in spirit, and wept with compassion
for Martha and Mary, when he saw tbeir sorrow for the
loss of their brother Lazarus, John xi. 32, &c. And he is
the same still ; he is as ready to pity those that are in af
fliction now as he was then.
And here is great encouragement for those that are ex
ercised with the temptations of Satan ; for how often do
we read of Christ casting out Satan from those of whom
he had the strongest possession 1 and Christ is the same
still. And whoever are under spiritual darkness, from the
consideration of their own sinfulness, have encouragement
hence to look to Christ for comfort ; for if they do so, he
will be ready to say to them, as he did to the paralytic,
" Son, be of good cheer ; thy sins are forgiven thee ;" for
he is still the same that be was then.
V. The truth taught in the text may be applied by way
of consolation to the godly. You may consider that you
have in him an unchangeable Saviour, who, as he has
loved you and undertaken for you from eternity, and in
time has died for you before you were born, and has since
converted you by his grace, and brought you out of a blind,
guilty, and undone condition, savingly home to himself;
so he will carry on his work in your heart ; he will perfect
what is yet lacking in you, in order to your complete de
liverance from sin, and death, and all evil, and to your
establishment in complete and unalterable blessedness.
From the unchangeableness of your Saviour, you may see
how he thinks of that chain in" Rom. viii. 29, 30. " For
whom he did foreknow them he also did predestinate,
and whom he did predestinate them he also called, and

whom he called them he also justified, and whom he justi
fied them he also glorified." The Saviour has promised
you very great and precious blessings in this world ; and
things which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor the
heart of man conceived, in the world to come ; and from
his unchangeableness you may be assured that the things
which he has promised he will also perform.
You may from this doctrine see the unchangeableness
of his love ; and therefore, when you consider how great
love he seemed to manifest, when he yielded himself up to
God a sacrifice for you, in his agony and bloody sweat in
the garden, and when he went out to the place of his
crucifixion bearing his own cross, you may rejoice that his
love now is the same that it was then.
And so when you think of past discoveries which Christ
has made of himself in his glory, and in his love to your
soul, you may comfort yourself that he is as glorious, and
his iove to you is as great, as it was in the time of these
discoveries. You may greatly comfort yourself that you have an
unchangeable friend in Christ Jesus. Constancy is justly
looked upon as a most necessary and most desirable
qualification in a friend ; that he be not fickle, and so that
his friendship cannot be depended on as that of a steady
sure friend. How excellent his friendship is, you may
leam from his manner of treating his disciples on earth,
whom he graciously treated as a tender father his children ;
meekly instructing them, most friendlily conversing with
them, and being ready to pity them, and help them, and
forgive their infirmities. And then you may consider this
doctrine, and how it thence appears that he is the same
still that he was then, and ever will be the same.
From the unchangeableness of your Saviour, you may
be assured of your continuance in a state of grace. As
to yourself, you are so changeable, lhat, if left to yourself,
you would soon fall utterly away; there is no dependence
on your unchangeableness; but Christ is the same, and
therefore, when be has begun a good work in you he will
finish it ; as he has been the author, he will be the finisher
of your faith. Your love to Christ is in itself changeable ;
but his to you is unchangeable, and therefore he will never
suffer your love to him utterly to fail. Tbe apostle gives
this reason why the saints' love to Christ cannot fail, viz.
that his love to them never can fail.
From the unchangeableness of Christ you may learn the
unchangeableness of his intercession, how he will never
cease to intercede for you. And from this you may learn
the unalterableness of your heavenly happiness. When
once you have entered on the happiness of heaven, it
never "shall be taken from you, because Christ, your
Saviour and friend, who bestows it on you, and in whom
you have it, is unchangeable. He will be the same for
ever and ever, and therefore so will be your happiness in
heaven. As Christ is an unchangeable Saviour, so he is
your unchangeable portion. That may be your rejoicing,
that however your earthly enjoyments may be removed,
Christ can never fail. Your dear friends may be taken
away and you suffer many losses; and at last you must
part with all those things. Yet you have a portion, a
precious treasure, more worth, ten thousand times, than
all these things. That portion cannot fail you, for you
have it in him, who is the same yesterday, to-day, and for
ever.

SERMON XV.

955

SERMON XV.*

THE TRUE EXCELLENCY OF A GOSPEL MINISTER.

John v. 35.
He was a burning and a shining light.
That discourse of our blessed Saviour we have an ac
count of in this chapter from the 17th verse to the end,
was occasioned by the Jews' murmuring against him,
and persecuting him for his healing the impotent man at
the pool of Bethesda, and bidding him to take up his bed
and walk on the sabbath day. Christ largely vindicates
himself in this discourse, by asserting his fellowship with
God the Father in nature and operations, and thereby im
plicitly showing himself to be Lord of the sabbath, and
by declaring to the Jews that God the Father, and he with
him, did work hitherto, or even to this time ; i. e. although
it be said that God rested on the seventh day from all his
works, yet indeed God continues to work hitherto, even
to this very day, with respect to his greatest work, the
work of redemption, or new creation, which he carries on
by Jesus Christ, his Son. Pursuant to the designs of
which work was his showing mercy to fallen men by healing
their diseases, and delivering them from the calamities they
brought on themselves by sin. This great work of re
demption God carries on from the beginning of the world
to this time ; and his rest from it will not come till tbe
resurrection, which Christ speaks of in the 21st and fol
lowing verses : the finishing of this redemption as to its
procurement, being in his own resurrection ; and as to the
application, in the general resurrection and eternal judg
ment, spoken of from ver. 20 to ver. 30. So that notwith
standing both the rest on the seventh day, and also the rest
that Joshua gave the children of Israel in Canaan ; yet the
great rest of the Redeemer from his work, and so of his
people with him and in him, yet remains, as the apostle
observes, Heb. chap. iv. This will be at the resurrection
and' general judgment ; which Christ here teaches the Jews
was' to be brought to pass by the Son of God by the
Father's appointment, and so the works of God to be
finished by him.
And inasmuch as this vindication was so far from satis
fying the Jews, that it did but further enrage them, because
hereby he made himself equal with God, Christ therefore
refers them to the witness of John the Baptist; whose tes
timony they must acquiesce in, or else be inconsistent
with themselves ; because they had generally acknow
ledged John to be a great prophet, and seemed for a while
mightily affected and taken with it, that God after so long
a withholding the spirit of prophecy, had raised up so great
a prophet among them — and it is concerning him that
Christ speaks in this verse wherein is the text : " He was
a burning and a shining light; and ye were willing for a
season to rejoice in his light."
In order to a right understanding and improvement of
the words of the text, we may observe,
1, What Christ here takes notice of in John, and de
clares concerning him, viz. that he was a burning and a
shining light. He was a light to the church of Israel, tore-
veal the mind and will of God to them, after a long-con
tinued dark season, and after they had been destitute of
any prophet to instruct them for some ages ; he arose on
Israel, as tbe morning star, the forerunner of the Sun of
righteousness, to introduce the day-spring, or dawning of
the gospel day, to give light to them that till then had sat
in the darkness of perfect night, which was the shadow of
death ; to give them the knowledge of salvation ; as Za
charias his father declares at his circumcision, Luke i. 76 —
79. " And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet ofthe
Highest : for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord, to
* Preached at Pelham, August 30, 1744, at the ordination of the Ilcv. Mr.

prepare his ways ; to give knowledge of salvation unto his
people, by the remission of their sins, through the tender
mercy of our God ; whereby the day-spring from on high
hath visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness
and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way
of peace."
And he was a burning light, as he was full of a spirit of
fervent piety and holiness, being filled with the Holy
Ghost from his mother's womb, having his heart warmed
and inflamed with a great love to Christ, being that friend
qf the bridegroom that stood and heard him, and rejoiced
greatly because of the bridegroom's voice ; and was glad
that Christ increased, though he decreased, John iii. 29,
30. and was animated with a holy zeal in tbe work of the
ministry : he came, in this respect, in the spirit and power
of Elias : as Elias was zealous in bearing testimony against
the corruption, apostacies, and idolatries of Israel in his
day, so was John the Baptist in testifying against the
wickedness of the Jews in his day : as Elias zealously re
proved the sins of all sorts of persons in Israel, not only
the sins of the common people, but of their great ones,
Ahab, Ahaziah, and Jezebel, and their false prophets ; with
what zeal did John the Baptist reprove all sorts of persons,
not only the publicans and soldiers, but the Pharisees and
Sadducees, telling them plainly that they were a genera
tion of vipers, and rebuked the wickedness of Herod in his
most beloved lust, though Herod sought his life for it, as
Ahab and Ahaziah did Elijah's ! As Elias was much in
warning the people of God's approaching judgments, de
nouncing God's awful wrath against Ahab, Jezebel, and
Ahaziah, and the prophets of Baal, and the people in
general ; so was John the Baptist much in warning the
people to fly from the wrath to come, telling them in tbe
most awakening manner, that the " axe was laid at the
root of the tree, and that every tree that brought not forth
good fruit should be hewn down and cast into the fire ;
and that he that came after him had his fan in his hand,
and that he would thoroughly purge his floor, and gather
his wheat into the garner, and burn up the chaff with un
quenchable fire."
John the Baptist was not only a burning but a shining
light : he was so in his doctrine, having more of the gospel
in his preaching than the former prophets, or at least the
gospel exhibited with greater light and clearness, more
plainly pointing forth the person that was to be the great
Redeemer, and declaring his errand into the world, to take
away the sin of the worid, as a lamb offered in sacrifice to
God, and the necessity that all, even the most strictly moral
and religious, stood in of him, being by nature a generation
of vipers ; and the spiritual nature of his kingdom, con
sisting not in circumcision, or outward baptism, or any
other external performance or privileges, but in the power
ful influences of the Holy Ghost in tbeir hearts, a being
baptized with the Holy Ghost, and with fire.
In this clearness with which he gave knowledge of sal
vation to God's people, John was a bright light, and among
them that had been born qf women there had not arisen a
greater than he. In this brightness this harbinger of the
gospel day excelled all the other prophets, as the morning
star reflects more of the light of the sun than any other
star, and is the brightest of all the stars.
He also shone bright in his conversation, and his emi
nent mortification and renunciation of the enjoyments of
the world ; his great diligence and laboriousness in his
work, his impartiality in it, declaring the mind and will of
God to all sorts without distinction; his great humility,
rejoicing in the increase of the honour of Cbrist, though his
honour was diminished, as the brightness of tbe morning
Robert Abercrombie, to tbe work of the goepel ministry in that place .

956

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

star diminishes as the light of the sun increases ; and in his
faithfulness and courage, still declaring the mind and will
of God, though it cost him his own life. Thus his light
shone before men.
2. We may observe to what purpose Christ declares
these things of John in the text, viz. to show how great
and excellent a person he was, and worthy that the Jews
should regard his testimony : great are the things which
Christ elsewhere says of John the Baptist, as in Matt. xi.
7 — 14. He speaks of him as a prophet ; and more than a
prophet ; and one, than whom, tliere had not risen a greater
among them that had been born qf women. He observes
how great and excellent a light he was in the text, to show
the Jews how inexcusable they were in not receiving the
testimony he had given of him ; as you may see ver. 31,
32, 33.
Therefore that which I would observe from the text to
be the subject of my present discourse is this :
It is the excellency of a minister of the gospel to be
both a burning and a shining light.
Thus we see it is in Christ's esteem, the great Prophet of
God, and Light ofthe world, Head ofthe church, and Lord
of the harvest, and the great Lord and Master, whose
messengers all ministers of the gospel are.
John the Baptist was a minister of the gospel ; and he
was so more eminently than the ancient prophets ; for
though God at sundry times, and in divers manners, spake
the gospel by them ;' yet John the Baptist was a great
minister of the gospel in a manner distinguished from
them. He is reckoned in Scripture the first that intro
duced the gospel day, after the law and the prophets,
Luke vi. 16. " The law and the prophets were until John ;
since that time the kingdom of God is preached." And
his preaching is called the beginning of the gospel of Jesus
Christ, the Son of God, Mark i. 1. He came on that
errand, to give knowledge of salvation to God's people,
through the remission of their sins, (as his father Zacha
rias observes, Luke i. 77.) and to preach these glad tidings
that the kingdom of heaven was at hand.
John being thus eminently a minister of the gospel, and
a burning and shining light, being taken notice of by Christ
as his great excellency, we may justly hence observe, that
herein consists the proper excellency of ministers of the
gospel. I would, by divine assistance, handle the subject in the
following method.
I. I would show that Christ's design in the appoint
ment of the order and office of ministers of the gospel is,
that they may be lights to the souls of men.
II. I would show what is implied in their being burn
ing lights.
III. I would show what is implied in their being
shining lights.
IV. I would show that it is the proper excellency of
ministers of the gospel to have these things united in them,
to be both burning and shining lights.
V. I would apply these things to all that Christ has
called to the work of the gospel ministry, showing how
much it concerns them earnestly to endeavour that they
may be burning and shining lights.
VI. Show what ministers of the gospel ought to do
that they may be so.
VII. Say something briefly concerning the duty of a
people that are under the care of a gospel minister, corre
spondent to those things that Christ has taught us concern
ing the end and excellency of a gospel minister.
I. I would observe that Christ's design in the appoint
ment of the order and office of ministers of the gospel was,
that they might be lights to the souls of men.
Satan's kingdom is a kingdom of darkness ; the devils
are the rulers of the darkness of this world. But Christ's
kingdom is a kingdom of light ; the designs of his kingdom
are carried on by light ; his people are not qf the night,
nor of darkness, but are the children of the light, as they
are the children of God, who is the Father of lights, and
as it were a boundless fountain of infinite pure and bright
light. 1 John i. 5. James i. 17.
Man by the fall extinguished that divine light that
shone in this world in its first estate. The Scripture re
presents the wickedness of man as reducing the world to

that state wherein it was when it was yet without form
and void, and darkness filled it. Jer. iv. 22, 23. " For
my people is foolish, they have not known me : they are
sottish children ; and they have none understanding :
they are wise to do evil ; but to do good they have no
knowledge. I beheld the earth, and lo, it was without
form and void ; and the heavens, and they had no light."
But God in infinite mercy has made glorious provision
for the restoration of light to this fallen dark world ; he
has sent him who is the brightness of his own glory into
the world, to be the light of the world. " He is tbe true
light that lighteth every man that cometh into tbe world,"
i. e. every man in the world that ever has any true light.
But in his wisdom and mercy, he is pleased to convey
his light to men by means and instruments; and has sent
forth his messengers, and appointed ministers in his cburch
to be subordinate lights, and to shine with the communi
cations of his light, and to reflect the beams of his glory on
the souls of men.
There is an analogy between the divine constitution and
disposition of things in the natural and in the spiritual
world. The wise Creator has not left the natural world
without light ; but in this our solar system has set one
great light, immensely exceeding all the rest, shining per
petually with a transcendent fulness and strength, to en
lighten the whole ; and he hath appointed other lesser,
subordinate, or dependent lights, that shine with tbe com
munications and reflections of something of his brightness.
So it is in the spiritual world ; there God hath appointed
Jesus Christ as the Sun of righteousness : the churcb of
God has not the sun to be her light by day, nor for
brightness does the moon give light to her, but the Lord
is her everlasting light, and her God her glory. The new
Jerusalem has no need of tbe sun, nor the moon ; for the
Lamb is the light thereof. And the ministers of Cbrist are,
as it were, the stars that encompass this glorious fountain
of light, to receive and reflect his beams, and give light to
the souls of men. As Christ therefore is in Scripture
called the Sun, so are his ministers called stars. So are
the twelve apostles, the chief ministers of the christian
church, called, Rev. xii. 1 . " And there appeared a great
wonder in heaven, a woman clothed with tbe sun, and the
moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve
stars." And so are the ordinary ministers of the gospel
called, Rev. i. 16. "And he had in his right hand seven
stars." And ver. 20. " The mystery of the seven stars
which thou sawest in my right hand, and the seven golden
candlesticks ; the seven stars are tbe angels of the seven
churches." Here also ministers of the gospel are implicitly
compared to those lamps that enlightened the temple at
Jerusalem, upon the tops of the golden candlesticks : and
more expressly in Zech. iv. 2. " I have looked, and be
hold a candlestick, all of gold, with a bowl upon the top
of it, and his seven lamps thereon."
These lamps have all their oil from Christ, and are
enkindled by his flame, and shine by his beams ; and.be-
ing thus dependent on him, they are near to him, and held
in his right hand, that they may receive light from him, to
communicate to others.
The use of a light is threefold ; to discover, to refresh, and
to direct.
The first use of a light is to discover things, or make
them manifest. Without light nothing is to be seen. Eph.
v. 13. "Whatsoever doth make manifest is light."
Ministers are set to be lights to the souls of men in this
respect, as they are to be the means of imparting divine
truth to them, and bringing into their view the most glorious
and excellent objects, and of leading them to and assist
ing them in the contemplation of those things that angels
desire to look into ; the means of their obtaining that
knowledge is infinitely more important, and more excellent
and useful, than that of the greatest statesmen or philoso
phers, even that which is spiritual and divine : they are
set to be the means of bringing men out of darkness into
God's marvellous light, and of bringing them to the infi
nite fountain of light, that in his light they may see light :
they are set to instruct men, and impart to them that know
ledge by which they may know God and Jesus Christ,
whom to know is life eternal.
Another use of light is to refresh and delight the be-

SERMON XV.

957

holders. Darkness is dismal: the light is sweet, and a
pleasant thing it is to behold the sun. Light is refreshing
to those who have long sat in darkness : they therefore that
watch and keep awake through a dark night, long and
wait for the light of the morning ; and the wise man ob
serves, Prov. xv. 30. "That the light ofthe eyes rejoiceth
the heart." Spiritual light is especially refreshing and joy
ful. Psalm xcvii. 11. "Light is sown for the righteous,
and gladness for the upright in heart." They that see the
light of Christ, the star that hath arisen out of Jacob, are
refreshed and do rejoice, as the wise men that saw the star
that showed them where Christ was, Matt. ii. 10. " And
when they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great
joy." Ministers are set in the church of God to be the instru
ments of this comfort and refreshment to the souls of men,
to be the instruments of leading souls to the God of all
consolation, and fountain of their happiness : they are sent
as Christ was, and as co-workers with him, to preach good
tidings to the meek, to bind up the broken-hearted, to pro
claim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison
to them that are bound, and to comfort all that mourn :
they are to lead those that " labour and are heavy laden " to
their true rest, and to speak a word in season to him that
is weary : they are set to be ministers of the consolation
and joy of the saints. 2 Cor. i. 24. " We have not domi
nion over your faith ; but are helpers of your joy."
The third use of light is to direct. 'Tis by light that we
see where to go : " He that walks in darkness knows not
whither he goes," and is in danger of stumbling and fall
ing into mischief. 'Tis by light that men see what to do,
and are enabled to work ; in the night, Christ tells us, no
man can work. Ministers are set to be lights to men's
souls in this respect also ; as Zacharias observes of John
the Baptist, Luke i. 79. " To guide our feet in the way of
peace." Ministers have the record of God committed to
them that they may hold that forth, which God has given
to be to man as a light shining in a dark place, to guide
them in the wav through this dark world, to regions of
eternal light. Ministers are set to be instruments of
conveying to men that true wisdom spoken of Job xxviii.
" Which cannot be gotten for gold, nor shall silver be
weighed for the price thereof; which cannot be valued
with the gold of Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the sap
phire." I proceed now to the
II. Thing proposed, viz. to show what is implied in a
minister of the gospel's being a burning light.
There are these two things that seem naturally to be un
derstood by this expression, viz. that his heart be filled
with much of the holy ardour of a spirit of true piety ; and
that he be fervent and zealous in his administrations.
1 . That his heart be full of much of the holy ardour of a
spirit of true piety. We read of the power of godliness.
True grace is no dull, inactive, ineffectual principle ; it is
a powerful thing ; there is an exceeding energy in it ; and
the reason is, that God is in it ; it is a divine principle, a
participation of the divine nature, and a communication of
divine life, of the life of a risen Saviour, who exerts him
self in the hearts of the saints, after the power of an endless
iife. They that have true grace in them, they live ; but not
by their own life ; but Christ lives in them :"bis Holy Spirit
becomes in them a living principle and spring of divine
life ; the energy and power of which is in Scripture com
pared to fire. Matt. iii. 11. "1 indeed baptize you with
water ; but he that cometh after me is mightier than I,
whose shoes I am not worthy to bear ; he shall baptize you
with the Holy Ghost, and with fire." True piety is not a
thing remaining only in the head, or consisting in any spe
culative knowledge or opinions, or outward morality, or
forms of religion ; it reaches the heart, is chiefly seated
there, and burns there. There is a holy ardour in every
thing that belongs to true grace : true faith is an ardent
thing, and so is true repentance ; there is a holy power and
ardour in true spiritual comfort and joy ; yea, even in true
christian humility, submission, and meekness. The reason
is, that divine love or charitv is the sum of all true grace,
which is a holy flame enkindled in the soul : it is by this
therefore especially, that a minister of the gospel is a burn
ing light; a minister that is so has his soul enkindled with

the heavenly flame ; his heart burns with love to Christ,
and fervent desires of the advancement of his kingdom and
glory : and also with ardent love to the souls of men, and
desires for their salvation.
2. The inward holy ardour of his soul is exercised and
manifested in his being zealous and fervent in his adminis
trations ; for, he is a burning light : which implies that his
spiritual heat and holy ardour is not for himself only, but
is communicative and for the benefit of others : he is ar
dent, as he is a light, or in the performance of the duties of
that office wherein he is set to be a light in the church of
Christ. His fervent zeal, which has its foundation and
spring in that holy and powerful flame of love to God and
man, that is in his heart, appears in the fervency of his
prayers to God, for and with his people; and in the earn
estness and power with which he preaches the word of God,
declares to sinners their misery, and warns them to fly from
the wrath to come, and reproves and testifies against all
ungodliness ; and the unfeigned earnestness and compas
sion with which he invites tbe weary and heavy laden to
their Saviour; and the fervent love with which he counsels
and comforts the saints ; and the holy zeal, courage, and
stedfastness, with which he maintains the exercise of dis
cipline in the house of God, notwithstanding all the opposi
tion he meets with in that difficult part ofthe ministerial
work ; and in the diligence and earnestness with which he
attends every duty of his ministerial function, whether
public or private.
But I hasten to the
III. Thing proposed in the handling of this subject,
viz. To show what is implied in a minister's being a shin-
inglight. There are three things that seem to be naturally signified
by it.
I. That he be pure, clear, and full in his doctrine. A
minister is set to be a light to men's souls, by teaching, or
doctrine : and if he be a shining light in this respect, the
light of his doctrine must be bright and full ; it must be
pure without mixtures of darkness, and therefore he must
be sound in the faith, not one that is of a reprobate mind ;
in doctrine he must show uncorruptness ; otherwise his
light will be darkness : he must not lead his people into
errors, but teach them the truth only, guiding their feet into
the way of peace, and leading them in the right ways of the
Lord. He must be one that is able to teach ; not one that is
raw, ignorant, or unlearned, and but little versed in the
things that he is to teach others ; not a novice, or one that
is unskilful in the word of righteousness ; ho must be one
that is well studied in divinity, well acquainted with the
written word of God, mighty in the Scriptures, and able to
instruct and convince gainsayers.
And in order to be a shining light he must be one that
really knows what religion is ; one that is truly acquainted
with that Saviour and way of salvation,, that he is to teach
to others, that he may speak the things that he knmvs, and
testify the things that he has seen, and not be a blind leader
of the blind : be must be one that is acquainted with ex
perimental religion, and not ignorant of the inward opera
tions of the Spirit of God, nor of Satan's devices ; able to
guide souls under their particular difficulties. Thus he
must be a scribe well instructed in things that pertain to
the kingdom- qfGod; one that brings forth out of his trea
sures things new and old.
And in order to his being a shining light, his doctrine
must he full, he must not only be able to teach, but apt to
teach, ready to instruct the ignorant, and them that are
out ofthe way, and diligent in teaching in public and pri
vate ; and careful and faithful to declare the whole coun
sel of God, and not keep back any thing that may be pro
fitable to his hearers.
Also his being a shining light implies that his instruc
tions are clear and plain, accommodated to the capacity of
his hearers, and tending to convey light to their under
standings. 2. Another thing requisite in order to a minister's being
a shining light, is that he be discreet in all his administra
tions. The fervent zeal that thus should animate and
actuate him in his administrations should be regulated by -
discretion : he sbould not only be knowing, and able to

958

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

communicate knowledge and formed to do it ; but also
wise, and know how to conduct himself in the house of
God, as a wise builder, and a wise steward. And as he is
one that God hath sent forth to labour in his field, and
committed the care of his vineyard to, so he should con
duct himself there as one whom his God doth instruct to
discretion : he should not only be as harmless as a dove, but
as wise as a serpent ; showing himself a workman that
needs not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth ;
and one that knows how to govern the church qf God, and
to walk in wisdom towards tliose lhat are without.
3. Another thing implied in a minister's being a shining
light, is that he shines in his conversation : if he shines
never so much in his doctrine and administrations in the
house of God, yet if there be not an answerable brightness
in his conversation, it will have a tendency to render all
ineffectual. Christ, in Matt. v. 14, 15, 16. says to his
disciples, (having undoubtedly a special respect to those of
them that were to be sent forth to preach the gospel,) " Ye
are the light of the world : — Men do not light a candle and
put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick, and it giveth
light unto all that are in the house " And how does Christ
direct them to give light to others? " Let your light,"
says he, " so shine before men, that others, seeing your
good works, may glorify your Father which is in heaven."
And he tells the same disciples again, John xv. 8. " Herein
is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit." And how
should they bring forth fruit ? Christ tells them, verse 10.
" If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my
love,' and verse 14. " Ye are my friends if ye do whatso
ever I command you."
God sent his Son into the world to be the light of the
world these two ways, viz. By revealing his mind and
will to the world, and also by setting the world a perfect
example. So ministers are set to be lights, not only as
teachers, but as ensamples to the flock, 1 Peter v. 3.
The same things that ministers recommend to their
hearers in their doctrine, they should also show them an
example of in their practice. Thus the apostle says to
Timothy, 1 Tim. iv. 11. "These things command and
teach ;'' and then adds in the next verse, " Be thou an
example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in
charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity." So he directs Titus,
in his teaching, to recommend sobriety, gravity, temper
ance, patience, and other virtues, in the beginning of the
2d chapter of Titus. But then adds in the 7th verse, " In
all things showing thyself a pattern of good works."
We see in natural bodies, that when heat is raised in
them to a high degree, at length they begin to shine : and,
as I observed before, a principle of true grace in the soul
is like an inward heat, a holy ardour of a heavenly fire
enkindled in the soul : this in ministers of the gospel
ought to be to that degree, as to shine forth brightly in all
their conversation ; and there should as it were be a light
about them wherever they go, exhibiting to all that behold
them, the amiable, delightful image of the beauty and
brightness of their glorious Master.
I proceed to the
IV. Thing proposed, which is to show that the excel
lency of a minister of the gospel consists in his being thus
both a burning and a shining light.
This is manifest in two things :
1 . Herein his ministry is acceptable and amiable in the
sight of God and men.
When light and heat are thus united in a minister of the
gospel, it shows that each is genuine, and of a right kind,
and that both are divine. Divine light is attended with
heat ; and so, on the other hand, a truly divine and holy
heat and ardour is ever accompanied with light.
It is the glory of the sun that such a bright and glorious
light, and such a powerful, refreshing, vivifying beat, are
both together diffused from that luminary. When there is
light in a minister, consisting in human learning, great
speculative knowledge, and the wisdom of this world,
without a spiritual warmth and ardour in his heart, and a
holy zeal in his ministrations, his light is like the light of
an ignis fatuus, and some kinds of putrifying carcasses that
shine in the dark, though they are of a stinking savour.
And if on the other hand a minister has warmth and
zeal, without light, his heat has nothing excellent in it, but

is rather to be abhorred ; being like the heat of the bottom
less pit ; where, though the fire be great, yet there is no
light. To be hot in this manner, and not lightsome, is to
be like an angel of darkness. But ministers by having
light and heat united in them, will be like the angels of
light ; which for their light and brightness are called morn
ing stars. Job xxviii. 7. " When the morning stars sang
together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy." And
because of that holy ardour of divine love and zeal with
which they bum, they are compared to a flaming fire. Ps.
civ. 4. " Who maketh his angels spirits, and his ministers
a flaming fire," and are therefore called seraphims, which is
a word that is derived from a root that signifies to burn.
So that by ministers of the gospel being burning and shin
ing lights, the angels of the churches will become like the
angels of heaven, and those stars held in the right hand of
Christ here below, will be like those morning stars above,
and which is much more, hereby ministers will be like their
glorious Lord and Master ; who is not only the Master of
ministers of the gospel, but is the Head and Lord of the
glorious angels, whom they adore, and who communicates
to them the brightness in which they shine, and the flame
with which they burn, and is the glorious luminary and
sun of the heavenly world, from whence all the inhabitants
of that world have their light and life, and all their glory.
In this Sun of righteousness is that light, whose bright
ness is such that the light of the sun in the firmament in
comparison of it is as darkness, yea, black as sackcloth of
hair : tor he is the infinite brightness of God's glory ;
and of him it is said, Isa. xxiv. 23. " Then the moon shall
be confounded, and the sun ashamed, when the Lord of
hosts shall reign in mount Zion, and in Jerusalem, before
his ancients, gloriously." And accompanying this bright
light in him, is the infinitely intense flame of love. There
is no love to be compared to his ; nor ever was love both
to God and man so manifested, as has been in what Christ
has done and suffered ; for herein was love ! Ministers, by
being burning and shining lights, become the sons of God,
of whom we read that he is light, and that he is lore.
1 John i. 5. " This then is the message which we have
heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and
in him is no darkness at all." And chap. iv. 16. " And
we have known and believed the love that God hath to us :
God is love,and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God,
and God in him."
Therefore it must needs be that ministers, by being
burning and shining lights, are acceptable and amiable in
the sight of God, as he delights in bis own image and in
the image of his Son : and hereby also they will be
honourable and amiable in the sight of men, all such as
have any sense of that which is truly excellent and beauti
ful ; and it is the way to have their ministry pleasant and
delightful to those of this character that sit under it.
2. Herein a minister of the gospel will be likely to
answer the ends of his ministry : by this means his minis
try will not only be amiable, but profitable. If a minister
has light without heat, and entertains his auditory with
learned discourses, without a savour of the power of godli
ness, or any appearance of fervency of spirit, and zeal for
God and the good of souls, he may gratify itching ears,
and fill the heads of his people with empty notions ; but
it will not be very likely to reach their hearts, or save their
souls. And if, on the other hand, he be driven on with a
fierce and intemperate zeal, and vehement heat, without
light, he will be likely to kindle the like unhallowed flame
in his people, and to fire their corrupt passions and affec
tions ; but will make them never the better, nor lead them
a step towards heaven, but drive them apace the other
way. But if he approves himself in his ministry, as both a
burning and a shining light, this will be the way to promote
true Christianity amongst his. people, and to make them
both wise, good, and cause religion to flourish among them
in the purity and beauty of it.
When divine light and heat attend each other in minis
ters of the gospel, their light will be like the beams of the
sun, that do not only convey light, but give life ; and con
verts will be likely to spring up under their ministry, as
the grass and the plants of the field under the influences
of the sun ; and the souls of the saints will be likely to

SERMON XV.

959

grow, and appear beautiful as the lily, and to revive as the
corn, and grow as the vine, and their scent to be as the wine
of Lebanon ; and their light will be like the light of Christ,
which is the light of life, John viii. 12.
If the sun should shine upon the earth with the same
brightness that it doth now, yet if it were without any heat,
it would give life to nothing ;" the world would be a desolate
wilderness, with nothing growing in it ; the death of every
living thing must be the consequence ; and the sun's light
could be of no service to us, but to cause us to see our
own and others' misery, without being able to help our
selves or them. On the other hand, if the sun diffused
the same heat that now it does, but the world was destitute
at the same time of any light, it would be equally un
serviceable : mankind having no light to guide tbem in
their business, in tilling the field, or gathering the produce
ofthe earth, we should be like the Egyptians in the three
days' darkness, who saw not one another, nor rose from
their place: and thus also death would be the unavoid
able consequence. But by light and heat accompanying
one another, the whole face of the earth becomes fruitful,
and is adorned, and all things are quickened and" flourish,
and mankind enjoy both life and comfort.
I proceed to the.
V. Thing proposed in handling the doctrine, to apply
these things to all here present, that Christ has called to
the work of the gospel ministry, observing how much it
concerns such to endeavour to be burning and shining
lights. Our office and work is most honourable, in that we are
set by Christ to be lights or luminaries in the spiritual
world. Light is the most glorious thing in the materia]
world, and there are, it may be, no parts of tbe natural
world that have so great an image of the goodness of God,
as the lights or luminaries of heaven; and especially the
sun, who is constantly communicating his benign influence
to enlighten, quicken, and refresh the world by his beams ;
which is probably the reason that the worship of the sun
was (as is supposed) the first idolatry that mankind fell
into. But so are ministers honoured by their great Lord
and Master, that they are set to be that lo men's souls, that
the lights of heaven are to their bodies ; and that they
might be the instruments and vehicles of God's greatest
goodness, and the most precious fruits of his eternal love
to them, and means of that life, and refreshment, and joy,
that are spiritual and eternal, and infinitely more precious
than any benefit received by the benign beams of the sun
in the firmament. And we shall be likely indeed to be
the instruments of those unspeakable benefits to the souls
of our fellow-creatures, if we have those qualifications,
which have been shown to be the true and proper excel
lency of ministers of the gospel. Herein our glory will
answer the honourable station Christ has set us in. And
hereby our ministry will be likely to be as beneficial as
our office is honourable : we shall be like Christ, and shall
shine with his beams; Christ will live in us, and be seen
in his life and beauty in our ministry, and in our conver
sation, and we shall be most likely to be the means of
bringing others to him, and of their receiving of his light,
and being made partakers of his life, and having his joy
fulfilled in them. And this will be the way for us here
after to be as much advanced and distinguished in our
reward, as we are honoured in the office and business we
are called to here. In this way, those whom Christ has
set to be lights in his church, and to be stars in the spirit
ual world here, shall be lights also in the church triumph
ant, and shine as stars for ever in heaven. Daniel xii. 3.
" And they that be wise, shall shine as the brightness of
the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness,
as the stars for ever and ever."
But if we fail of the proper excellency of ministers of
the gospel, we shall not be in the sight of God the more
worthy or honourable for our high office, but the more
abominable and inexcusable ; our wickedness being aggra
vated by God's great goodness and condescension to us ,
and the peculiar obligations that he laid upon us; and
instead of being eminently beneficial and great blessings,
as lights to reflect the beams of Christ's glory and love,
we shall be so much the more hurtful and pernicious, for
our being in such a station ; and so shall be likely here

after to suffer a so much more dreadful punishment. The
devils in hell are so much the more odious to God, and
more the objects of his wrath, because he set them in the
dignity and glorv of angels, the excellency of which state
they are fallen from. And it is likely that those in hell
that will be nearest to the fallen angels, in their state of
misery, will be those that Christ once set to be angels of
the churches, but through their unfaithfulness, failed of
their proper excellency and end.
Here I would apply myself in a few words to the per
son whose intended ordination, this day, to the great work
of the gospel ministry, is the occasion of tbis discourse.
You have now, dear sir, heard something ofthe nature and
design of that office to which you are this day, in tbe name
of Christ, to be solemnly set apart. You are' therein called
to be a light to the souls of men, a lamp in God's temple,
and a star in the spiritual world. And you have heard
wherein, in Christ's esteem, consists the proper excellencv
of one in that office, and how in this a minister of the gospel
becomes like his glorious Master, and glorifies him, and
is likely to be the instrument of the salvation and happi
ness ofthe souls of men, and to receive a glorious reward
from the hands of God.
These, sir, are the motives that you are to be influenced
by, to endeavour to be a burning and a shining light in the
work of the ministry. As to the things of this world, you
are not to expect outward ease, pleasure, and plenty ; nor
are you to depend on the friendship and respect of men ;
but should prepare to endure hardness, as one that is going
forth as a soldier to war. But they are higher things than
these, more excellent benefits than the world can afford,
that Christ offers to those that approve themselves to him
in this work.
God in his providence has brought you far from your
native land, and from your friends and acquaintance there ;
but you will have reason, notwithstanding, to acknowledge
the good hand of his providence towards you, if he is
pleased to make you a burning and shining light in this
part of his church, and by the influence of your light and
heat (or rather by his divine influence with your ministry)
to cause this wilderness to bud and blossom as the rose,
and give it the excellency of Carmel and Sharon, and to
cause you lo shine in the midst of this people with warm
and lightsome, quickening and comforting, beams, causing
their souls to flourish, rejoice, and bear fruit like a garden
of pleasant fruits, under the beams of the sun.
By this means you will be to their souls the vehicle of
the influences and blessings of the heavenly world, which
is a world of light and love, shall be ever held in Christ's
right hand, and shall be terrible to the powers of darkness ;
and shall see more and more of the light of Christ's glory
and grace in this place, with you and this people, and shall
hereafter not only shine yourself, as the brightness of the
firmament, but shall meet with them in glory also, who
shall shine there around you, as a bright constellation in
the highest heaven ; whore' tbey shall be your everlasting
crown of rejoicing.
But I hasten to the
VI. Thing proposed, which was to show what course
ministers of the gospel ought to take, or what things they
should do, that they may be burning and shining lights.
And. here I shall but just mention things, without en
larging. And in order to this, ministers should be diligent in their
studies, and in the work of the ministry to which they are
called ; giving themselves wholly to it ; taking heed to
themselves that their hearts be not engaged, and their
minds swallowed up, and their time consumed, in pursuits
after the profits and vain glory ofthe world.
And particularly, ministers should be verv conversant
with the Holy Scriptures ; making it very much their busi
ness, with the utmost diligence and strictness, to search
those holy writings : for they are as it were the beams of
the light of the Sun of righteousness ; they are the light by
which ministers must be enlightened, and the light they
are to hold forth to their hearers ; and they are the fire
whence their hearts and the hearts of their hearers must be
enkindled. They should earnestly seek after much of the spiritual
knowledge of Christ, and that they may live in the clear

960

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

views of his glory. For by this means they will be
changed into the image of the same glory and brightness,
and will come to their people as Moses came down to the
congregation of Israel, after he had seen God's back parts
in the mount, with his face shining. If the light of
Christ's glory shines upon them, it will be the way for
them to shine with the same kind of light on their hearers,
and to reflect the same beams, which have heat, as well
as brightness. The light of the knowledge of the glory
of God in the face of Jesus Christ, is the treasure the
apostle speaks of, that ministers have, as in earthen vessels :
2 Cor. iv. 6, 7. "For God, who commanded the light to
shine out of darkness, hath shined into your hearts, to give
the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the
face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen
vessels." This was probably typified of old, by the burn
ing lights and lamps which Gideon's soldiers had in one
hand in earthen pitchers, while they held a trumpet in the
other, with which they sounded (typifying the preaching
of the gospel). And thus with the sound of these trumpets,
and these burning lights or earthen vessels, they overcame
the enemies of God and his people.
Ministers, in order to their being burning and shining
lights, should walk closely with God, and keep near to
Christ ; that they may ever be enlightened and enkindled
by him. And they should be much in seeking God, and
conversing with him by praytr, who is the fountain of
light and love : and knowing their own emptiness and
helplessness, should be ever dependent on Christ ; being
sensible witb Jeremiah that they are children, should sit as
children at Christ's feet to hear his word, and be instructed
by him ; and being sensible with Isaiah that they are men
of unclean lips, should seek that their lips may be, as it
were, touched with a live coal from the altar, as it were by
the bright and burning seraphim.
I come now to the
VII. And last thing proposed, to say something very
briefly concerning the duties of a people that are under
the care of a minister, corresponding with these things that
Christ has taught us conceming the nature and end of
this sacred office. And here I would have a special re
spect to the people of God in this place, who are about to
have the care of their souls committed to him, that is now
solemnly to be set apart to the work of the ministry.
If it be, as you have heard, the proper excellency of a
minister of tbe gospel to be a burning and a shining
light, then it is your duty earnestly to pray for your minis
ter, that he may be filled with divine light, arid with the
power of the Holy Ghost, to make him so. For herein
you will but pray for the greatest benefit to yourselves;
for if your minister burns and shines, it will be for your

light and life. That which has been spoken of, as it is
the chief excellency of a minister, so it renders a minister
the greatest blessing of any thing in the world that ever
God bestows on a people.
And as it is your duty, to pray that your minister may
by this mean become such a blessing to you, so you
should do your part to make him so, by supporting him,
and putting him under the best advantage, with a mind
free from worldly cares, and the pressure of outward
wants and difficulties, to give himself wholly to his work ;
and by all proper acts of respect, and kindness, and as
sistance, to encourage his heart, and strengthen his hands :
and to take heed that instead of this you do not take a
course to obscure and extinguish the light that would
shine among you, and to smother and suppress the flame,
by casting dirt upon it ; by necessitating your minister by
your penuriousness towards him, to be involved in worldly
care ; and by discouraging his heart by disrespect and un-
kindness. And particularly when your minister shows
himself to be a burning light, by burning with a proper
zeal against any wickedness that may be breaking out
amongst his people, and manifests it by bearing a proper
testimony against it in the preaching of the word, or by a
faithful exercise of the discipline of God's house, instead
of taking it thankfully, and yielding to him in it, as you
ought, does not raise another fire of a contrary nature
against it, viz. the fire of vour unhallowed passions, re
flecting upon and reproaching him for his faithfulness.
Herein you will act very unbecoming a christian people,
and show yourselves very ungrateful to your minister, and
to Christ, who has bestowed upon you so faithful a minister,
and will also, while you fight against him, and against
Christ, fight most effectually against your own souls. If
Christ gives you a minister that is a burning and shining
light, take heed that you do not hate the tight, because
your deeds are reproved by it ; but love and rejoice in his
light ; and that not only for a season, like John the Bap
tist's apostatizing hearers : and come to the light. Let
your frequent resort be to your minister for instruction in
soul cases, and under all spiritual difficulties ; and be
open to the light and willing to receive it ; and be obedient
to it. And thus walk as the children of light, and follow
your minister wherein he is a follower of Christ, i. e.
wherein he is as a burnirig and shining light. If you
continue so to do, your path will be the path of the just,
which shines more and more to the perfect day, and the
end of your course shall be in those blissful regions of
everlasting light above, where you shall shine forth with
your minister, and both with Christ, as the sun, in the
kingdom qf the heavenly Father.

SERMON XVI.*

CHRIST THE EXAMPLE OF MINISTERS.

John xiii. 15, 16.
For I have given you an example, that he should do as I
have done to you. Verily, verily, I say unto you, The
servant is not greater than his lord, neither he that is
sent greater than he that sent him.
We have in the context an account of one of the many
very remarkable things that passed that night wherein Christ
was betrayed, (which was on many accounts tbe most re
markable night that ever was,) viz. Christ's wasbing bis
disciples' feet ; which action, as it was exceeding wonderful
in itself, so it manifestly was symbolical, and represented
* Preached at Portsmouth, at the ordination ofthe Rev. Mr. Job Strong,

something else far more important and more wonderful,
even that greatest and most wonderful of all things that
ever came to pass, which was accomplished the next day
in his last sufferings. There were three symbolical repre
sentations given of that great event this evening ; one in
the passover, which Christ now partook of with his dis
ciples ; another in the Lord's supper, which he instituted
at this time ; and another in this remarkable action of his
washing his disciples' feet. Washing the feet of guests
was the office of servants, and one of their meanest offices :
and therefore was fitly chosen by our Saviour to represent
that great abasement which he was to be the subject of in
the form of a servant, in becoming obedient unto death,
June 28, 1749.

SERMON XVI.

961

even that ignominious and accursed death of the cross,
that he might cleanse the souls of his disciples from their
guilt and spiritual pollution.
This spiritual washing and cleansing of believers was
the end for which Christ so abased himself for them.
Tit. u. 14. "Who gave himself for us, that he might re
deem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a pe
culiar people. Eph. v. 25, 26. " Christ loved the church,
and gave liimself tfbr it, that he might sanctify and cleanse
it with the washing of water." That Christ's washing his
disciples' feet signified this spiritual washing of the soul,
isffianifest by his own words in the 8th verse of the con
text. "Peter saith unto him, Thou shalt never wash my
feet. Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou has"t
no part with me." Christ, in being obedient unto death,
even the death of the cross, not only did the part of a
servant unto God, but in some respects also of a servant
' unto us. _ And this is not the only place where bis so
abasing himself for our sakes is compared to tbe doing of
the part of a servant to guests. We have the like repre
sentation made in Luke xxii. 27. " For whether is greater,
he that sitteth at meat, or he that serveth ? Is not he that
sitteth at meat ? But I am among you as he that serveth."
And wherein Christ was among the disciples as be that
did serve, is explained in Matt. xx. 28. namely, in his
gkfag his life a ransom for them.
When Christ had finished washing his disciples' feet, he
solemnly requires their attention to what he had done, and
cdihmands them, to follow his example therein. Verses
12—17. " So after he had washed their feet, and bad
taken his garments, and was set down again, he said unto
them, Know ye what I have done unto you ? Ye call me
Master and Lord, and ye say well, for so I am. If I then,
your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, ye also
ought to wash one another's feet : for I have given you
an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.
Verily, verily, I say unto you, The servant is not greater
than his Lord, neither he that is sect greater than he that
sent him. If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do
them." When our Saviour calls on his disciples to imitate the
example he had given them in what he had done, we are
to understand him, not merely by the example he gave in
the emblematical action, in washing his disciples' feet, in
itself considered; but more especially, of that much
greater act of his that was signified by it, in abasing him
self so low, and suffering so much, for the spiritual cleans-
ingand salvation of his people.
This is what is chiefly insisted on as the great example
Christ has given us to follow : so it is once and again
afterwards, in tbe discourse Christ had with his disciples,
this same night, verse 34. of the chapter wherein is the
text : " A new commandment I give unto you, that ye
love one another ; as I have loved you, that ye also love
one another." Chap. xv. 12, 13. " This is my command
ment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.
Greater love hatb no man than this, that a man lay down
his life for his friends." And so in 1 John iii. 16.
" Hereby perceive we the love of God, because he laid
down his life for us ; and we ought to lay down our lives
for the brethren."
Christ, in the words of the text, does not only intend to
recommend this example of his to the disciples as Chris
tians, or some of his professing people, but especially as
his ministers. This is evident by those words he uses to
enforce this counsel, " Neither he that is sent, is greater
than he that sent him." In which words he manifestly
has respect to that great errand on which he had sent them,
when he bid them go and preach the gospel to the lost sheep
of the house of Israel ; Matt. x. 5, 6. and on which they
were to be sent after his resurrection, when he said to them,
" Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every
creature." The same errand that Christ has respect to
John xx. 21. " As my Father hath sent me, even so send
I you." And what confirms this is, that Christ elsewhere recom
mends to officers in his church, that are in that respect chief
among his followers, the example which he set in his
abasing himself to be as a servant that ministers to guests
at a table, in his giving his life for us ; Matt. xx. 27, 28.
VOL. II. 3 Q

" Whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your
servant : even as the Son of man came not to be minis
tered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom
for many." Compare Luke xxii. 25—28.
The work and business of ministers of the gospel is as
it were that of servants, to wash and cleanse the souls of
men : for this is done by the preaching of the word, which
is their main business, Eph. v. 26. " That he might sanc
tify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word."
The words of the text thus considered, do undoubtedly
lead us to this conclusion, and teach us this doctrine, viz.
That it is the duty of ministers of the gospel, in the
work of their ministry, to follow the example of their great
Lord and Master.
And this is what I would by divine assistance make
the subject of my present discourse.
And I propose to handle this subject in the following
method. I. I would observe wherein ministers of the gospel
ought to follow the example of Christ.
II. Give some reasons why they should follow his ex
ample. III. I would endeavour to make a proper application
of those things to myself, and others that are called to this
work ofthe ministry.
IV. Show what improvement should be made of them
by thepeopie of this church and congregation.
I. Then, I would show wherein ministers of the gospel
ought, in the work of their ministry, to follow the example
of their great Lord and Master, Jesus Christ.
And here,
1. In general, ministers should follow their Lord and
Master in all those excellent virtues, and in that universal
and eminent holiness of life, which he set an example of
in this human nature.
The ministers of Christ should be persons of the same
spirit that their Lord was of : the same spirit of humility
and lowliness of heart ; for the servant is not greater than
his Lord. They should be of the same spirit of heavenly-
mindedness, and contempt of the glory, wealth, aud plea
sures of this world : they should be of the same spirit of
devotion and fervent love to God : they should follow the
example of his prayerfulness ; of whom we read from time
to time of his retiring from the world, away from the noise
and applauses of the multitudes, into mountains and soli
tary places, for secret prayer, and holy converse with his
Father ; and once of his rising up in the morning a great
while before day, and going and departing into a solitary
place to pray, Mark i. 35. — and another time, of his going
out into a mountain to pray, and continuing all night in
prayer to God, Luke vi. 12. Ministers should follow
Christ's example, in his strict, constant, and inflexible ob
servance of the commands which God had given him,
touching what he should do and what he should say ; he
spake nothing of himself, but those things which the
lather had commanded him, those he spake, and always
did those things that pleased him, and continued in
thorough obedience in the greatest trials, and through
the greatest opposition that ever there was any instance of.
Ministers should be persons of the same quiet, lamb-like
spirit that Christ was of, the same spirit of submission to
God's will, and patience under afflictions, and meekness
towards men; of the same calmness and composure of
spirit under reproaches and sufferings from the malignity
of evil men ; of the same spirit of forgiveness of injuries ;
of the same spirit of charity, of fervent love and extensive
benevolence ; the same disposition to pity the miserable,
to weep witb those that weep, to help men under their
calamities of both soul and body, to hear and grant the
requests of the needy, and relieve the afflicted ; the same
spirit of condescension to the poor and mean, tenderness
and gentleness towards the weak, and great and effectual
love to enemies. They should also be of the same spirit
of zeal, diligence, and self-denial for the glory of God,
and advancement of his kingdom, and for the good of
mankind; for which things' sake Christ went through
the greatest labours, and endured the most extreme suf
ferings. 2. More particularly should ministers of the gospel
follow the example of their great Master, in the manner in

962

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

which they seek the salvation and happiness of the souls
of men. They should follow his example of love to souls :
though it be impossible that they should love them to so
great a degree, yet they should have the same spirit of
love to them, and concern for their salvation, according to
their capacity. Love to men's souls in Christ was far
above any regard he had to his temporal interest, his ease,
his honour, his meat and drink ; and so it should be with
his ministers. They should have the same spirit of com
passion to men under their spiritual calamities and mise
ries that he had, of whom we read, Mark vi. 34. " That
when he came out and saw much people, he was moved
with compassion towards them, because they were as
sheep not having a shepherd ; and he began to teach them
many things." Tne word translated moved with compassion,
signifies, that he was most sensibly affected, and his inmost
bowels moved with pity. And again we read, Luke xix.
that when Christ was riding to Jerusalem, that wicked
city, but a few days before his crucifixion, and was come
to the descent of the mount of Olives, where he had a fair
view of the city, when he beheld it, he wept over it, on
account of the misery and ruin they had brought them
selves into danger of bv their sin ; although the sin by
which especially they had made themselves thus miserable,
was their vile treatment of him ; (for Jerusalem was a city
that had been peculiarly injurious to him ;) and though
Christ knew how cruelly he should be treated in that city
before that week was past, how he there should be set at
nought, and with great malignity bound, falsely accused
and condemned, reviled, spit upon, scourged, and crucified :
yet all does not prevent his most affectionate tears of
compassion towards them. " When he was come near,
he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst
known, even thou, (thou, as wicked as thou art, and as vile
as thou hast been in thy treatment of me ; even thou,) the
things which belong unto thy peace ! But now they are
hid from thine eyes." (Compare Matt, xxiii. 37. and
Luke xiii. 34.) One would have thought he would
have been more concerned for himself than Jerusalem,
who had such a dreadful cup to drink, and was to suffer
such extreme things by the cruelty of Jerusalem that
week. But he, as it were, forgets his own sorrow and
death, and weeps over the misery of his cruel ene
mies. Ministers should imitate their great Master in his fervent
prayers for the good of the souls of men. We find it to
be Christ's manner, whenever he undertook any thing of
special importance iu the work of his ministry, first to
retire and pour out his soul in extraordinary prayer to his
Father. Thus when he was about to enter on a journey,
and go a circuit throughout all Galilee, to preach in their
synagogues, " he rose up a great while before day, and
went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there
prayed." Mark i. 35 — 39. And when he was about to
choose his twelve apostles, and send them out to preach
the gospel, he first went out into a mountain to pray, and
continued all night in prayer to God. Luke vi. 1 2, &c.
And the night before his crucifixion, wherein he offered up
himself a sacrifice for the souls of men, he pours out his
soul in extraordinary prayer, for those he was about to die
for, as we have an account in John xvii. That wonderful
and most affecting prayer of his, was not so much for him
self as for his people. Although he knew what amazing
sufferings he was to undergo the next day, yet he seems as
it were to be unmindful of himself, and to have his heart
all taken up with concern about his disciples ; which he
manifests in his spending so much time in comforting and
counselling them, and praying for them with great affec
tion, compassion, earnest care, and fatherly tenderness.
And the prayers that he made in the garden of Gethse-
mane, under the amazing view of the cup he was to drink
the next day, seem to be intercessory ; especially the last
of the three prayers which he there made, when being in an
agony, he prayed more earnestly ; and his sweat was as it
were great drops qf blood falling doum to the ground:
when he did not pray that the cup might pass from him,
as he had done before, but that God's will might be
done. (Compare Luke xxii. 44. with Matt. xxvi. 42.)
That prayer, as the apostle teaches us, Heb. v. 6, 7. was a
prayer that he put up as our High Priest; and therefore

must be a prayer of intercession for us, a prayer offered
up with his blood which he sweat in his agony ; as prayers
were wont to be offered up with the blood of tbe sacrifices
in the temple. His prayer at that time, Thy will be done,
was not only an expression of submission, but had the form
of a petition, as it is in the Lord's prayer. He prayed
that God's will might be done in his being enabled to do
the will qf God, persevering in obedience unto death;
and in the success of his sufferings ; which might in an
eminent manner be called the will of God, as it is in Psal.
xl. 7, 8. " Then said I, Lo, I come  1 delight to do
thy will, O my God."
Ministers should follow the example of Christ in his
diligence and laboriousness in his work. " He went about
doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the
devil." Acts x. 38. So abundant was he in labours, tbat
oftentimes he scarcely allowed himself time to eat or
drink ; insomuch that his friends sometimes went out to
lay hold of him, saying, " He is beside himself." Mark
iii. 20, 21. That tiiree years and a half of his public
ministry was so filled with action and labour, that one of
his disciples that constantly attended him, and was an eye
witness of his activity, tells us that if all that he did should
be written, the world would not contain the books.
Ministers should follow the example of Christ, in his
readiness not only to labour, but suffer, for the salvation of
souls, to spend and be spent for them. In this respect
the apostle Paul imitated his Lord and Master. Philip.
ii. 17. " Yea, and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and
service of your faith, I joy and rejoice with you all." Col.
i. 24. " Who now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and
fill up that which is behind of tbe afflictions of Christ in
my flesh, for his body's sake, which is the church." 2 Cor.
xii. 15. "And I will very gladly spend and be spent for
you." Christ, in his prayers, labours, and sufferings for
the souls of men, is represented as travailing in birth witb
them. Isa. liii. 11. " He shall see of the travail of his
soul." In like manner should ministers travail for the
conversion and salvation of their hearers. They should
imitate the faithfulness of Christ in his ministry, in speak
ing whatsoever God had commanded him, and declaring
the whole counsel of God. They should imitate him in
the manner of his preaching; who taught not as the
scribes, but with authority, boldly, zealously, and fer
vently ; insisting chiefly on the most important things in
religion, being much in warning men of the danger of
damnation, setting forth the greatness of the future misery
of the ungodly ; insisting not only on the outward, but
also the inward and spiritual, duties of religion ; being
much in declaring the great provocation and danger of
spiritual pride, and a self-righteous disposition ; yet much
insisting on the necessity and importance of inherent holi
ness, and the practice of piety. Behaving himself with
admirable wisdom in all that he said and did in his
ministry, amidst the many difficulties, enemies, and temp
tations he was surrounded with, wonderfully adapting his
discourses to persons, seasons, and occasions. Isa. 1. 4.
" The Lord hath given me the tongue of the learned, that
I should know how to speak a word in season to him that
is weary."Ministers should follow their Master in his zeal, so won
derfully mixed and tempered with gentleness and con
descension in his dealing with souls ; preaching the gospel
to the poor, and taking a gracious notice from time to
time of little children. And they should imitate their
Lord in his following the work of the ministry, not from
mercenary views, or for the sake of worldly advantages,
but for God's glory, and men's salvation ; and in having
his heart engaged in his work ; it being bis great delight,
and his meat, to do the will of his Father, and finish his
work, John iv. 34. and having his heart set on the success
of his great undertaking in the salvation of souls ; this
being the joy that was set before him, for which be run his
race, endured the cross, and despised the shame ; his
delight in the prospect of the eternal salvation of souls
more than countervailing the dread he had of his extreme
sufferings. Many waters could not quench his love,
neither could the floods drown it, for his love was stronger
than death ; yea, than the mighty pains and torments of
such a death.

SERMON XVI.

963

I now proceed to the
II. Thing proposed in the handling of this subject,
which was to give some reasons why ministers of the 'gos
pel should follow the example of "their great Lord and
Master, Jesus Christ.
1. They should follow his example, because he is their
Lord and Master. Christ, as he is a divine person, is tbe
Lord of heaven and earth, and so one of infinite dignity,
to whom our supreme respect is due ; and on that account
he is infinitely worthy that we should regard, not only his
precepts but example. - The infinite honourableness of his
person recommends his virtues, and a conformity to them
as our greatest dignity and honour.
Christ is more especially the Lord of Christians ; who
are therefore under special obligations to follow bim. He
is their shepherd, and surely the flock should follow their
shepherd. He is the captain of their salvation ; and it
becomes soldiers to follow their captain and leader. He
is their head; not only their head of rule and authority,
but their head of influence and communication, their vital
head ; and Christians are members of his bodv ; but mem
bers, as partakers of the life and spirit of the head, are
conformed to the head.
But Christ is still in a more peculiar manner the Lord
and Master of ministers of the gospel, as they are not only
members of his, church, but the officers of his kingdom,
and the dignified servants of his family. It is the manner
of a people to imitate their prince, but especially the mi
nisters of his kingdom, and officers of his household. It is
the duty ofthe whole army to follow their general, but es
pecially of.those officers that have a commission under him.
2. Ministers of the gospel are in some respects called
and devoted to the same work and business that Christ
himself was appointed to. Ministers are not men's medi
ators; for there is but one Mediator between God and
man, the man Christ Jesus : they are not our priests to
make atonement and work out righteousness for us ; for
Christ by one offering has perfected for ever them that
are sanctified : they are not lords over God's heritage ;
for one is their Master, even Christ. But yet ministers of
the gospel, as Christ's servants and officers under him, are
appointed to promote the designs of that great work of
Christ, the work of salvation. It is the work that minis
ters are devoted to ; and therefore they are represented as
co-workers with Christ. 2 Cor. vi. 1. " We then as work
ers together with him, beseech vou also that ye receive not
the grace of God in vain." Christ is the Saviour of the
souls of men : ministers, also, are spoken of in Scripture
as saving men's souls. 1 Tim. iv. 16. " In doing this,
thou shalt both save thyself and them that hear thee."
Rom.x. 14. " Ifby any means I mayprovoke to emulation
them which are my flesh, and might save some of them."
1 Cor. ix. 22. "Tbat I might by all means save some.''
And whereas it is said, Obad. 21. " Saviours shall come
upon mount Zion ;" ministers of the gospel are supposed
to be there intended.
The work of ministers is in manv respects like the work
that Christ himself was appointed to, as the Saviour of
men ; and especiallv the same with the work which Christ
does in his prophetical office ; only with this difference,
that ministers are to speak and act wholly under Christ,
as taught of him, as holding forth his word, and bv light
and strength communicated from him. Christ himself,
after his baptism, followed the work of the ministry : he
was a minister of the true sanctuary, (Heb. viii. 2.) he
spake and acted as his Father's minister ; was a minister
of the gospel, and as such preached and administered sa
craments. Pastors of churches are ministers of the same gospel ;
but in their ministry they act as the ministers of Christ.
Jesus Christ is the' great Bishop of souls ; ministers are
also bishops under him. Christ came into the world that
he might be the light qf the world ; ministers are set to be
lights unto the cburches, and are also set to be the light of
t/u; world. Matt. v. 14. Christ is the bright and morning
star ; ministers are stars in Christ's hand. Christ is the
messenger of the covenant ; ministers are called messengers
of the Lord of hosts. Christ is his people's shepherd, the
good shepherd, the great shepherd of his sheep. Ministers
are also frequently called shepherds, and are directed to
3 Q 2

feed the flock of Christ, which he purchased with his own
blood. Seeing therefore it is thus, that the work that ministers
are called and devoted to, is no other than the work of
Christ, or the work that Christ does, certainly they ought
to do his work ; which they do not do unless they imitate
him, and do as he does, oi' as he hath set tbem an ex
ample. 3. The example of Christ is most worthy of ministers'
imitation. His example was perfect, without error, blem
ish, or defect ; and therefore worthy to be made our rule,
and to be regarded and followed without exception, limit
ation, or reserve ; unless in those things which he did that
were proper to his peculiar office. Christ's virtue was not
only perfect, but was exercised in those circumstances,
and under those trials, that rendered his virtuous acts
vastly the most amiable of any that ever appeared in any
creature whether man or angel'. If we consider the per
fection of the virtue that Christ exercised, his virtue did
exceed that of the most eminent saints, more than the
purest gold exceeds the meanest and foulest ore : and if
we consider the manner of its exercise, and the trials under
which it was exercised, and the blessed fruits it has
brought forth, so his virtue exceeds that of all other per
fectly innocent creatures, and even of the brightest angel,
as the sun in its glory exceeds the stars.
And this example was set us in our own nature, and so
is especially fitted for our imitation. There was in the
man Christ Jesus, who was one of us, and dwelt among
us, such exercises of virtue as became our state and cir
cumstances in the world, as those who dwell in frail flesh
and blood, and as members of human society, and dwellers
in such a world of sorrow and death.
And then these amiable exercises of virtue in Christ
were exhibited chiefly in the things which he did in that
work wherein ministers are called to act as co-workers
with him. The bright and glorious exarfiple of Christ
that is set before us, is chiefly in what he did during the
three years and a half of his public ministry ; and in the
devotion, heavenly-mindedness, humility, patience, meek
ness, forgiveness, self-denial, and charity, which he exer
cised in the labours and sufferings he went through for the
good of the souls of men : and therefore is especially set
for the imitation of those who are set apart that they may
make it the whole business of their lives to seek the same
good of souls.
4. Ministers should follow that example of Christ which
has been spoken of, because if they are fit for ministers,
and are such as have any right to take that work upon
themselves, Christ has set them this example in what he
has done for their souls. " I have given you an example
(says Christ in the text) that you should do as I have done
to you." Ministers should be animated in this work by a
great love lo the souls of men, and should be ready to
spend and be spent for them ; for Christ loved them, and
gave himself for them : he loved them with a love stronger
than death. They should have compassion to men under
their spiritual miseries, as Christ had pity on them. They
should be much in prayer for tlie people of their flock,
considering how Christ praved and agonized for them, in
tears of blood. They should travail in birth with the souls
that are committed to their care, seeing their own salvation
is the fruit of the travail of Christ's soul. They should
exercise a meek and condescending spirit to the mean
and weak and poor, and should as it were wash the feet
of Christ's disciples ; considering how Christ condescended
lo them, when they were wretched, and miserable, and
poor, and blind, and naked, and abased himself to wash
their feet.
The chief trials of Christ's virtue, and so their most
bright and eminent exercises, were in the abasement,
labour, and suffering that he was the subject of for our
salvation. Which certainly may well endear those virtues
to us, and greatly engage us to imitate that example : so
the things whereof this example consists, were things by
which we have infinite benefit, without which we should
have been unspeakably miserable for ever and ever, and by
virtue of which we have the glorious privilege of the chil
dren of God, and have a full title to the crown of exceed
ing glory, and pleasures for evermore, at God's right hand.

964

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

III. I now proceed, as was proposed, in the third place,
to apply what has been said to myself, and others that are
employed in this sacred work ofthe gospel ministry, and
to such as are about to undertake it, or are candidates for
it ; and particularly to him that is now to be solemnly set
apart to this work in this place.
We are those to whom these things especially belong :
we may hear Christ saying to us this day, " I have given
you an example, that ye should do as I have done." For
the words of Cbrist in the text were not only spoken to
the twelve, but are also spoken unto us. We have now
had represented to us, though in a very imperfect manner,
the example that Christ has set, and what reasons there are
that we, above all others, should imitate it.
It is not only our great duty, but will be our greatest
honour, to imitate Christ, and do the work that he has
done, and so act as co-workers with him.
There are two kinds of persons that are given to Christ,
and appointed and devoted of God to be his servants, to
be employed with Christ, and under him, in his great
work of the salvation of the souls of men ; and they are
angels and ministers. The angels are all of them, even
the most exalted of them, subjected of God the Father to
our Redeemer, and given to him as his servants, to be
subservient to the great designs of his saving and glorify
ing hiselect. Heb. i. 14. " Are they not all ministering
spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of
^alvation ?" And doubtless they were created for this
very end ; God made them for his Son, to be subservient
to him in this great work ; which seems to be the chief de
sign of all God's works. And the employment of ministers
ofthe gospel in this respect, is like that of the glorious
angels. The principalities and powers in heavenly places,
esteem it not any debasement, but their great honour, to be
employed as Christ's ministers in this work ; for therein
they are employed as the ministers of God, in the greatest
and most honourable of all God's works ; that work of
God wherein his glory is chiefly displayed, and which his
heart was chiefly upon from eternity. It is the honour of
the Son of God himself, that he is appointed to this work.
It was because God the Father infinitely loved his Son,
and delighted to put honour upon him, that he appointed
him to be the author of that glorious work of the salvation
of men. And when we consider the greatness, importance,
and excellency of it, we have reason to be astonished at
the condescension of God, that he would ever improve
mere creatures as co-workers and ministers of Christ in this
affair ; for who is sufficient for these things? 2 Cor. ii. 6.
" Who is fit, or worthy ? Who is equal to a work of such
dignity, and vast importance?" Especially have we
rea«on to wonder that God will employ, not only holy and
glorious angels, but feeble, frail, sinful worms ofthe dust
in this work, who need redemption themselves : and yet
the honour that is put upon faithful ministers is, in some
respects, greater than that of the angels : they seem to be
that kind of servants that are the most dignified ofthe
two. For Christ makes his angels to be ministering spirits
unto them, unto the faithful ministers ; and the angels are
their angeis : as faithful ministers of the gospel are not
only ministers to the church, but dignified members of the
church, that spouse of the King of glory, on whom the
most glorious angels, the highest ministers in the court of
heaven, are appointed to attend. And then Christ seems
especially to delight to carry on his work of the salvation
of souls, through the ministrations of men, who have that
nature that Christ is united to, and that are of those sons
of men with whom he had his delight before the world was
made. So it is bv the ministration of men, that the Scrip
tures are given ; they were the penmen of the Holy Bible ;
and by them the gospel is preached to the world : by them
ordinances are administered, and, through their ministra
tions, especially, souls are converted. When Christ him
self was employed in the work of the ministry, in the time
of his humiliation, but few, comparatively, were brought
home to him, immediately by his ministrations : it pleased
Christ to reserve this honour for his disciples and ministers,
after his ascension, to whom he promised that they should,
in this respect, do greater works than he, Job xiv. 12. and
accordingly it was by their preaching that the Gentile
world was converted, and Satan's kingdom overthrown.

• Thus God delights " to perfect praise out ofthe mouths of
babes and sucklings, that he may still the enemy and the
avenger." It will be our great honour that we are called to this
work of Christ, if therein we follow him : for therein we
shall be like tbe Son of God : but if we are unfaithful
in this office, and do not imitate our Master, our offence
will be heinous in proportion to the dignity of our office,
and our final and everlasting disgrace and ignominy pro
portionably great ; and we, who in honour are exalted
up to heaven, shall be cast down proportionably low in
hell. Let us further consider, that our following the example
of Christ in the work of the ministry, is the way to enjoy
the sensible joyful presence of Christ with us. The disci
ples had the comfort of Christ's presence and conversation
by following him, and going where he went. When we
cease to follow him, he will go from us, and we shall soon
lose sight of him. .
Our being conformed to Christ's example, will also be
the way for us to be conformed to him, and partake with
him in his privileges : it is the way for us to have his joy
fulfilled in us. Christ, in doing the work to which the
Father appointed him, obtained a glorious victory over his
enemies, and having spoiled principalities and powers, tri
umphed over them. If we imitate his example, it will be
the way for us in like manner to conquer the principalities
and powers, yea, to be much more than conquerors : it
will be the way for us always to triumph in Jesus Christ.
It will be the way for us to obtain success in our ministry,
and actually to be made the happy instruments ofthe eter
nal salvation of souls. Christ has not only told us, but
shown us, the way to success in our business, and the way
to victory over all that oppose us in it. And our imitating
Christ in our ministry, will be the way for us to be partak
ers with him in his glory ; the way for us in like manner
to be approved, and openly honoured and rewarded by
God ; the way to be brought to sit with Christ on his
throne, as he is set down with the Father on his throne.
And as Christ is now exalted to shine as the bright lu
minary and glory of heaven, so our following his example,
will be the way for us to be exalted, to shine with him,
" as the stars for ever and ever." Daniel xii. 3. And as
Christ in heaven rejoices in his success, and will receive
his church, presented to him without spot, as his everlast
ing crown ; so our imitating Christ in our work, will be
the way to partake with Christ in this joy, and have the
souls whose salvation we are the instruments of, to be our
crown of rejoicing for ever. Thus Christ and we shall re
joice together in that world of glory and joy where there is
no more labour or sorrow. And we must enter into that
joy and glory, in the way of following Christ in our work ;
there is no other way for ministers to enter there.
And that we may thus follow Christ's example, and be
partakers with him in his glory, we had need to be much
in prayer for his Spirit. Christ himself, though theetemal
Son of God, obtained the Holy Spirit for himself in a way
of prayer. Luke iii. 21, 22. " Jesus being baptized, and
praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Ghost de
scended like a dove upon him." If we have the Spirit of
Christ dwelling in us, we shall have Christ himself thereby
living in us, and then we shall undoubtedly live like him.
If that fountain of light dwells richly in us, we shall shine
like him, and so shall be burning and shining lights.
That we may be and behave like Christ, we should earn
estly seek much acquaintance with him, and much love to
him, and be much in secret converse with him. It is
natural, and as it were necessary, for us to imitate those
whom we are much acquainted and conversant with, and
have a strong affection for.
And in order to our imitating Christ in the work of the
ministry, in any tolerable degree, we had need not to have
our hearts overcharged, and time filled up with worldly
affections, cares, and pursuits. The duties of a minister
that have been recommended, are absolutely inconsistent
with a mind much taken up with worldly "profit, glory,
amusements, and entertainments.
And another thing that is of very great importance, in
order to our doing the work that Christ did, is, that we
take heed that the religion we promote, be tbat same

SERMON XVI.

965

religion that Christ taught and promoted, and not any of its
counterfeits and delusive appearances, or any thing substi
tuted by the subtle devices of Satan, or vain imaginations
of men, in lieu of it. If we are zealous and very diligent
to promote religion, but do not take good care to distin
guish true from false religion, we shall be in danger of
doing much more hurt than good with all our zeal and
activity. I come now to the
IV. And last thing at first proposed, viz. to show what
improvement should be made of what has been said, by
the people of this church and congregation, who are now
about solemnly to commit their souls to the charge of him
whom they have chosen to be their pastor, and who is now
about to be set apart to that office.
And you, my brethren, as all of you have immortal
Souls to save, if you have considered the things that bave
been spoken, cannot but be sensible, that it not only
greatly concerns your elect pastor to take heed how he be
haves himself in his great work, wherein he is to act as
a co-worker with Christ for your salvation ; but tbat it
infinitely concerns you how you receive him, and behave
towards him. Seeing that it is for your eternal salvation
that he is appointed to watch and labour ; and seeing his
business is to do the work of Christ for you, it is natural
and easy to infer, that your reception and entertainment of
him should in some respect imitate the church's recep
tion of Jesus Christ. Gal. iv. 14. " My temptation wbich
was in my flesh, ye despised not, nor rejected ; but re
ceived me as an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus."
Christ, in the text, commands those whom he sends to
follow his example, and then in the 20th verse following,
he directs those to whom he sends them, how to treat
them. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that receiveth
whomsoever I send, receiveth me ; and he that receiveth
me, receiveth him that sent me." Seeing the work of your
minister is in some respects the same with the work of
Christ, and he is to be appointed and devoted to do this
work for your souls in particular, surely you should esteem
him very highly in love for his work's sake, and do all
that is in your power to help him, and put him under
the best advantages to imitate his great Master in this
work, to give himself wholly to his work, as Christ did
during the time of his ministry, and to be successful
in his work. And as it was observed before, that it is im
possible that ministers should in any tolerable degree imitate

the example of Christ in their work, if their minds are over
charged with worldly cares and concerns, you ougbt so to
provide for him and support him, that he shall have no need
to entangle himself with these things ; otherwise you wili
' not only bring a great temptation upon him, which will
vastly tend to hinder him in the work of Christ among you,
but will, for the sake of sparing a little of your worldly
substance to yourselves, foolishly and miserably starve
your own souls and the souls of your children, and will
but cheat yourselves ; for you will not be in tbe way to
prosper either in your spiritual or temporal concerns. The
way to have your houses filled with plenty, is to " honour
the Lord with your substance, and with the first-fruits of
all your increase," Prov. iii. 9.
And as it is your duty and interest well to support your
minister, so it concerns you to pray earnestly for him, and
each one to do what in him lies in all respects to en
courage and help him, and strengthen his hands, by
attending diligently to his ministry, receiving the truth in
love, treating him with the honour due to a messenger of
Christ, carefully avoiding all contention with him, and one
with another. And take heed in particular, that you do
not forsake him to follow those, who under pretence of
extraordinary purity, are doubtless doing the devil's work,
in separating themselves, and endeavouring to draw off
others from the ministers and churches in the land in
general. If you think I have spoken something freely to you, I
hope it will be considered, that this is probably the last
time you will ever hear me speak from the pulpit, and
that 1 shall never see you again, till we see one another
in the invisible and eternal world, where these things will
open to us all in their just importance.
And now nothing is left but to express my sincerest
wishes and prayers, that the God of all grace would be
with you and your elect pastor, and that he would give
you in him a great and long-lasting blessing, that you may
enjoy much of the presence of Christ wilh you in him ;
that in him may be made up the great loss you sustained by
the death of your former faithful and eminent pastor,
whose praise was in all the churches ; and that you may
receive him as you ought to receive a faithful minister of
Jesus Christ, and may be a great comfort to him, and
may receive great spiritual and eternal benefit by his
means ; and tbat you may be each -other's crown of re
joicing in the day of the Lord Jesus.

SERMON XVII.*
THE SORROWS OF THE BEREAVED SPREAD BEFORE JESUS.

Matthew xiv. 12.
And his disciples came and look up the body and buried it,
and went and told Jesus.
Concerning these words I would observe three things.
1. On what occasion that was, that we have an account
of in the text. It was on occasion of the death of John
the Baptist, who was a person whose business it had been
to preacb the gospel of the kingdom of God. He was a
minister of Jesus Christ, and had been improved to do
great service, was an instrument of much good to many
in Judea and Jerusalem, in his life-time. He was cruelly
murdered by Herod, at the instigation of Herodias,
having exposed himself to her malice by faithfully reprov
ing them for their incestuous wickedness.
2. We may observe who the persons were spoken of in
the text ; they were those that had been the disciples of
* Preached at Hatfield, September 2, 16-11, beinp the day of the inter-

John the Baptist, that had sat at his feet to hear him preach
the gospel, that were his constant followers, that were with
him as those that received great benefit by his ministry,
and were as it were his children.
3. We may observe their behaviour on this occasion,
consisting in two things.
(1.) That whereby they showed their regard to the re
mains of the deceased, They took up the body and buried
it : it had been used in a barbarous manner, by others,
that had also been his hearers, and were under special
obligations to have treated him with honour. They cruelly
murdered him, by severing his head from his body ; and
his head was carried in a charger to Herodias, that she,
instead of paying that respect that was due to tbe remains
of so venerable a person, might have her malice and cruelty
gratified by such a spectacle, and lhat she might thence
take occasion to insult the dead. While that part ofthe
dead body was thus used by Herodias, his disciples, out of
inentof ihe Rev. Mr. William Williams.

966

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

respect and honour to their master and teacher, decently
interred the rest.
(2.) That which they did, consequent on this, for God's
glory and their own good, They went and told Jesus.
Him they knew to be one that tbeir master John, while
he lived, had testified a great regard to. Jesus was he
whose forerunner John was ; whom he had preached, and
of whom he had said," Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh
away the sin of the world :" And, " This is he, of whom
I said, After me cometh one that is preferred before me ;"
and whom he saw, and bare record that this is the Son of
God. And probably they knew that Christ was one that
had put great honour upon John their teacher in his life
time. For he, though be was the Son of God, and John's
Maker and Saviour, yet came to him to be baptized of
him, and had said of him, that " Among those tbat were
born of women, there had not risen a greater than John the
Baptist." It was now a sorrowful time with John's disciples ;
when they were thus bereaved of him whose teachings
they had sat under. And the manner of his death was
doubtless very grievous to them. They were like a com
pany of sorrowful, distressed, bereaved children ; and
what do they do in their sorrows, but go to Jesus with
their complaint. The first thing that they do, after paying
proper regards to the remains of their dear master, is to
go to Christ, to spread their case before him, seeking
comfort and help from him. Thus they sought their own
benefit. And probably one end of their immediately going and
telling Jesus was, that he, being informed of it, might
conduct bimself accordingly, as bis wisdom should direct,
for the interest of his own kingdom. When so great a
person as John the Baptist, the forerunner of Christ, was
thus martyred, it was a great event, in which the common
cause, in which both Christ and he were engaged, was
greatly concerned : it was therefore fit that he that was at
the head of the whole affair should be informed of it, for
his future conduct in the affairs of his kingdom. And ac
cordingly we find that Jesus seems immediately to lie in
fluenced in his conduct by these tidings ; as you may see
in the next verse : " When Jesus heard of it, he departed
thence by a ship into a desert place apart." Thus John's
disciples sought God's glory.
The observation from the words that I would make the
subject of my discourse at this time, is this :
When any one is taken away by death, that has been
eminent in the work of the gospel ministry, such as are
thereby bereaved, should go and spread their calamity be
fore Jesus.
Though in handling this subject I might particularly
speak to several propositions that are contained in this ob
servation, and many things might profitably be insisted on
under it, if there were room for it within tbe compass of a
sermon; yet I shall only give the reasons of the doctrine,
and then hasten to the application.
The following reasons may be given why, in case of such
an awful dispensation of Providence, those that are con
cerned in it, and bereaved by it, should go and spread their
sorrows before Jesus :
1. Christ is one that is ready to pity the afflicted. It
is natural for persons that are bereaved of any that are
dear to them, and for all under deep sorrow, to seek some
that they may declare and lay open their griefs to, that
they have good reason to think will pity them, and have a
fellow-feeling with them of their distress. The heart tbat
is full of grief wants vent, and desires to pour out its
complaint ; but it seeks a compassionate friend to pour it
out before.
Christ is such an one, above all others. He of old, be
fore his incarnation, manifested himself full of compassion
towards his people; for that is Jesus that is spoken of,
Isa. lxiii. 9. " In all their affliction he was afflicted ; and
the angel of his presence saved them ; in his love and in
his pity he redeemed them ; and he bare them, and car
ried them all the days of old." And when he was upon
earth in his state of humiliation, he was the most wonder
ful instance of a tender, pitiful, compassionate spirit, that
ever appeared in the world. How often are we told of his
having compassion on one and another ! So Matt. xv. 32.

" Then Jesus called his disciples, and said unto them, I
have compassion on the multitude." So he had compas
sion on the man possessed with devils. Mark v. 19.
" Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things
the Lord hath done to thee, and hath had compassion on
thee." So we read of his pitying the mother, that was
bereaved of her son. Luke vii. 13. There we have an
account, when Christ went into the city of Nain, and met
the people carrying out a dead man, the only son of his
mother, that was a widow, that when he saw her, he had
compassion on her. So when the two blind men that sat
by the way side cried to Jesus, as he passed by, saying,
" Have mercy on us, O Lord, thou Son of David," we
read that Jesus had compassion on them. Matt. xx. 39.
So we read of his being moved with compassion. Matt.
xiv. 14. " And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multi
tude, and when he saw them he was moved with compas
sion." His speeches to his disciples were full of compas
sion ; especially those that he uttered a little before his
death, of which we have an account in the 13th, 14th, 15th,
and 16th chapters of John. His miracles were almost
universally deeds of pity to persons under affliction.
And seeing such a pitiful heart appeared in him on all
occasions, no wonder lhat John's disciples, when bereaved
of their dear guide and teacher, and their hearts were full
of sorrow, came to him for pity : which likewise induced
Mary and Martha to come and fall down, pouring out
their tears at Jesus's feet, when their dear brother Lazarus
was dead : other Jews came to comfort them, before Jesus
came, whom they little regarded, but when they heard
that Jesus was come, they soon go and spread their sor
rows before him ; they were assured that he would pity
them ; and their expectation was not frustrated ; for he
was most tenderlv affected and moved at their tears : we
are told that on that occasion he groaned in spirit and was
troubled. John xi. 33. And when he came to the grave, it
is observed, and a special note seems to be set upon it,
that he wept, verse 35.
He was one that wept with those that wept : and indeed
it was mere pity that brought him into the world, and in
duced him not only to shed tears but to shed his blood :
he poured out his blood as water on the earth, out of com
passion to the poor, miserable children of men. And when
do we ever read of any one person coming to him when on
earth, with a heavy heart, or under any kind of sorrow or
distress for pity or help, but what met with a kind and
compassionate reception ?
And he has the same compassion now he is ascended into
glory: there is still the same encouragement for bereaved
ones to go and spread their sorrows before him.
Afflicted persons love to speak of their sorrows to them
that have had experience of affliction, and know what
sorrow is : but there is none on earth or in heaven that
ever had so much experience of sorrow as Christ : there
fore he knows how to pity the sorrowful, and especially
may we be confident that he is ready to pity those that
are bereaved of a faithful minister, because such a be
reavement is a calamity that concerns the souls of men ;
and Christ hath especially shown his pity to men's souls ;
for it was chiefly for them that he died : to relieve the
miseries of the soul especially, is it that he hath provided ;
and it was from pity to the souls of men that he made that
provision for them that he hath done, in appointing such
an order of men as gospel ministers, and in sending
them forth to preach the gospel : it was because he had
compassion on men's souls, tbat he hath appointed minis
ters to watch for souls.
2. Christ has purchased all that persons need under such
a bereavement. He has purchased all that miserable men
stand in need of under all their calamities, and comfort
under every sort of affliction ; and therefore that his in
vitation to those that " Labour and are heavy laden," to
come (o him for rest, may be understood in the most ex
tensive sense, to extend to those that are " heavy laden"
with either natural or moral evil : he has purchased divine
cordials and supports for those hearts that are ready to
sink : he has purchased all needed comfort and help for
the widow and the fatherless : he has purchased a sancti
fied improvement and fruit of affliction, for all such as
come to him, and spread their sorrows before him. He

SERMON XVII.

967

has purchased those things that are sufficient to make up
their loss, lhat are bereaved of a great blessing in an emi
nent minister of the gospel : it is he that has purchased
those divine blessings, those influences and fruits of the
Spirit of God, that the work of the ministry is appointed
to be the means of. Faithful ministers themselves are the
raits of his purchase ; and he has purchased all those
gifts and graces whereby ministers do become faithful,
eminent, and successful; and therefore when he "ascend
ed up on high, he received such gifts for men." Eph. iv.
8, &c. — So that he has purchased all that is needed to
make up for the loss that is sustained by the death of an
eminent minister.
3. Christ is able to afford all that help that is needed in
such a case. His power and his wisdom are as sufficient
as his purpose, and answerable to his compassions. By
the bowels of his mercies, the love and tenderness of his
heart, he is disposed to help those that are in affliction ;
and his ability is answerable to his disposition. He is
able to support the heart under the heaviest sorrows, and
lo give light in the greatest darkness : he can divide the
thickest cioud with beams of heavenly light and comfort:
he is one that gives songs in the night, and turns the
shadow of death into the morning : he has power to make
op the loss of those that are bereaved by the death of the
most eminent minister. His own presence with the be
reaved is sufficient ; if the great Shepherd and Bishop of
souls be present, how much more is this than enough to
supply the want of any under shepherd ! And then he is
able to furnish others with like gifts and graces for that
work. Persons under sorrowful bereavements are ready to go
and lay open their sorrows to them that they think will be
ready to pity them, though they know they can but pity
them, and cannot help them. How much more is here
in such a case to induce us to go to Jesus, who is not only
so ready to pity, but so able to help, able abundantly more
than to fill up the breach, and able to turn all our sorrows
into joy !
4. The consideration of the special office of Christ, and
the work that he has undertaken for his people, should
engage them to go and spread such a calamity, as the
bereavement of a faithful and eminent minister, before him :
for he is the Head qf the body, the great Shepherd of the
sheep, and Lord of the harvest ; that has undertaken the
care of the whole church, and has the absolute government
of it in his hands, and the supreme disposal and manage
ment of all ecclesiastical affairs; to whom belongs the care
of the universal church, and every part of it, with respect
to its supply with such guides, officers, and ordinances, as
it stands in need of. In case of bereavement of an eminent
minister, it was he that sent forth such a minister, appoint
ed him his charge, and furnished him for his work, con
tinued and assisted him in it, and in his own time re
moved him; and it is he that, in such a case, by his
Office, has the care of filling up the vacancy, and furnish
ing, establishing, and assisting successors, and supplying
all the wants of bereaved churches. It is surely therefore
suitable and natural to go to him in such a case, and
spread such a calamity before him.

APPLICATION.
I come now to apply what has been said to the sorrow
ful occasion of our being thus assembled at this time,
even the death of that aged servant of God, who has
long been eminent in the work of the gospel ministry in
this place.
There are many that may well look on themselves as
nearly concerned in this awful providence, and sharers in
the bereavement ; all of whom should be directed by this
doctrine, lo go and spread their affliction before Jesus,
that compassionate, all-sufficient Head of the church, and
Saviour of the body, that merciful and faithful High Priest,
that knows how to pity the afflicted.
And particularly it now becomes and concerns you, that
belong lo this church and congregation, that are bereaved
of your aged and eminent pastor and father, that has so
long been a great blessing to you, now to go and tell Jesus.

The disciples of John, spoken of in the text, were those
that were ordinarily under his instruction, and were his
constant hearers, as it has been with you with respect to
your aged pastor, that is now taken from you. Therefore
be exhorted to do as they did. Do not think that you
have finished your duty, when you have taken up his body
and buried it, and have shown respect to his memory and
remains at his funeral : this is the least part of your duty :
that which mainly concerns you under this awful pro
vidence, is between Christ and your own souls.
God has now taken away from you an able and faithful
minister of the New Testament, one that had long been a
father to you, and a father in our Israel, a person of
uncommon natural abilities and distinguished learning, a
great divine, of very comprehensive knowledge, and of a
solid, accurate judgment. — Judiciousness and wisdom
were eminently his character. He was one of eminent
gifts, qualifying him for all parts of the work of the minis
try ; and there appeared a savour of holiness in his exer
cise of those gifts in public and private : so that he im
proved them as a servant of Christ, and a man of God.
He was not negligent of the talents which his Lord had
committed to him ; you need not be told with what con
stant diligence he improved them, how studious at home,
and how laborious in his public work : he ever devoted
himself to the work to which he is called : the ministry
which he had received of the Lord, he look heed to fulfil,
and pursued it with a constant and stedfast, even mind,
through all its difficulties.
You know his manner of addressing heaven in his public
prayers with you and for you, with what sanctity, humi
lity, faith, and fervency, he seemed to apply himself to the
Father of lights, from time to time, when he stood
in this desk as your mouth to God, and interceding for
you, pleading with God through the grace and merits of a
glorious Mediator. And you know his manner of ap
plying himself to you, when he came to youj from time lo
time, in the name of the Lord.
In his public ministry, he mainly insisted on the most
weighty and important things of religion ; he was eminent
ly an evangelical preacher ; evangelical subjects seemed to
be bis deligbt : Christ was the great subject of his preach
ing ; and he much insisted on those things that did nearly
concern the essence and power of religion; and had a
peculiar faculty of judiciously and clearly handling the
doctrines he insisted on, and treating properly whatever
subject he took in hand ; and of selecting the most weighty
arguments and motives to enforce and set home those
things that concern christian experience and practice. His
subjects were always weighty, and his manner of treating
them peculiarly happy, showing the strength and accuracy
of his judgment, and ever breathing forth the spirit of
piety, and a deep sense of the things he delivered, on
his beart. His sermons were none of them mean, but were
all solid, wise compositions. His words were none of
them vain, but all were weighty.
And you need not be told with what weight the welfare
of your souls seemed to lie on his heart, and how he in
structed, and reproved, and warned, and exhorted you, with
all authority, and with a fatherly tender concern for your
eternal good. And with what wisdom he presided in the
house of God, and guided its affairs ; and also counselled
and directed you in private, under your particular soul
exercises and difficulties. You know how he has brought
you up, (for most of you have been trained up from your
childhood under his ministry,) with what authority, and
with what judgment, prudence, and steadiness, he has
conducted you, as well as meekness and gentleness. You
know his manner of going in and out among you, how
exemplary his walk and conversation has been, with what
gravity, judgment, and savour of holiness, he has walked
before you, as a man of God.
You have enjoyed great advantages for your souls good,
under his ministry: that you had such a minister was
your privilege and vour honour ; he has been an ornament
to the town of Hatfield ; and his presence and conversa
tion amongst you has been both profitable and pleasant ;
for though it was such as did peculiarly command awe
and respect, yet it was, at the same time, humble and
condescending : it tended both to instruct and entertain

968

OCCASIONAL SERMONS.

those that he conversed with : as a wise man, and endued
with knowledge, he showed out qf a good conversation his
works with meekness qf wisdom.
But now it hath pleased a holy God to take him away
from you : you will see his face and hear his voice no
more in the land of the living : you will no more have the
comfort and benefits of his presence with you, and the
exercise of his ministry among you.
Therefore now go to Jesus, the Supreme Head of the
church, and Bishop qf souls. Your pastor is dead, and
will not live again till the last day : but Christ, the chief
Shepherd, though he was dead, is now alive ! And behold,
he lives for evermore. He ever lives to provide for his
church, and to guide and feed his flock. Go to that Jesus
whom your deceased pastor preached, and to whom he
earnestly invited you while he lived, and give thanks for
the many blessings you enjoyed in him. Remember how
you have received and heard, and hold fast, that no man
take your crown ;* and go and humble yourselves also before
him, that you made no better improvement of the ministry
of your pastor while he lived ; and beg of him a sanctified
improvement of his awful hand in taking him away, and
that he would help you to remember his warnings and
counsels that you too much slighted whilst you had them,
lest those warnings and counsels cry against you, and rise
up in judgment against you another day, lest you see your
pastor, that so affectionately, and earnestly, and so often,
and for so long a time, continued to exhort you, and earn
estly prayed for you, while he lived, rising up in judgment,
and bearing testimony against you, declaring how con
stantly and laboriously he entreated and called upon you,
and how obstinately some of you slighted his counsels ;
and lest you see him sitting with Christ to judge and con
demn you, and adoring his awful justice on your aggravated
punishment. All you that have an interest in Jesus, now go to him
on this occasion, and tell him of your bereavement, and
beg of him that he would not depart from you ; but that he
would make up his loss in his own immediate presence.
Go to him for your surviving pastor, that he would be with
him, and furnish him more and more for, and assist him in,
that great work that is now wholly devolved upon him,
and make him also a burning and shining light amongst
you ; and that you may have of the presence and blessing
of Jesus with you, and him.
And now, since I am called to speak in the name of
Christ on this solemn occasion, I would apply myself to
the near relations of the deceased, who are especially to be
looked upon as the bereaved.
God in his holy providence has taken from you one that
has been a great blessing, comfort, and honour to you, and
deservedly very dear to you, and honoured of you. The
doctrine we are upon directs you what to do in your pre
sent circumstances, viz. to go to Jesus, to go and spread
your affliction before an all-sufficient Redeemer.
And particularly I would apply myself to the honoured
relict, who stood in the nearest relation of anv to the de
ceased, whom God by this awful providence has made a
sorrowful widow. Suffer me, honoured madam, in your
great affliction, to exhibit to you a compassionate Redeem
er. God has now taken from you that servant of his, that
was the nearest and best friend you had in this world, that
was your wise and prudent guide, your affectionate and
pleasant companion, who was so great a blessing while he
iived, to you and your family, and, under Christ, was so
much the comfort and support of your life. You see,
madam, where your resort must be : your earthly friends
can condole your loss, but cannot make it up to you ; we
must all confess ourselves to be but miserable comforters :
but you may go and tell Jesus, and there you may have
both support and reparation : his love and his presence is
far beyond that of the nearest and most affectionate earth
ly friend. Now you are bereaved of your earthly consort,
you may go to a spiritual husband, and seek his compas
sion and bis company : he is the fountain of all that wis
dom and prudence, that piety, that tender affection and
faithful care, that you enjoyed in your departed consort ;
in him is an infinite fountain of all these things, and of all
* Particularly, remember his late affectionate farewell, at the table of
the Lord, not expecting such another opportunity with you. Exhorting you

good ; in him you may have light in your darkness, com
fort in your sorrow, and fulness of joy and glory in another
world, in an everlasting union with your dear, deceased re
lative, in the glorious presence of the same Redeemer, in
whose presence is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand are
pleasures for evermore.
This doctrine also directs the bereaved, afflicted children,
that are, with hearts full of grief, now mourning overa dear
departed father, where to go and what to do. You will no
longer have your father's wisdom to guide you, his tender
love to comfort and delight you, and his affectionate care
to guard you and assist you, and his pious and judicious
counsels to direct you, and his holy examples set before
you, and his fervent, humble, believing prayers with you
and for you.
But in the blessed Jesus, your father's Lord and Re
deemer, you may have much more than all those things :
your father's virtues lhat made him so great a blessing to
you, were but the image of what is in Christ.
Therefore go to him in your mourning: go and tell
Jesus ; tell a compassionate Saviour what has befallen you.
Heretofore you have had an earthly father to go to, whose
heart was full of tenderness to you ; but the heart of his
Redeemer is much more tender; his wisdom and his
love is infinitely beyond that of any earthly parent. Go to
him, and then you will surely find comfort. Go to him,
and you will find that, though you are bereaved, yet you
are not left in any want; you will find that all your wants
are supplied, and all your loss made up, and much more
than so.
But here I would particularly, in humility, address my
self to my honoured fathers, the sons of the deceased, that
are improved in the same great work of the gospel ministry,
or in other public business for the service of their genera
tion. Honoured sirs, though it might be more proper for
me to come to you for instruction and counsel, than to
take it upon me lo exhort you, yet as I am one tbat ought
to have a fellow-feeling of your affliction, and to look on
myself as a sharer in it, and as you have desired me to
speak in the name of Christ, on this occasion, suffer me to
mention to you that source of comfort, that infinite fountain
of good, one of the larger streams of which has failed by
the death of an earthly father, even the blessed Jesus. You
will doubtless acknowledge it as an instance of his great
goodness to you, that you have been the sons of such a
father ; being sensible that your reputation and serviceable-
ness in your generation, have been, under Christ, very
much owing to the great advantages you have been under,
by his instructions, counsels, and education. And is it not
fit that children that have learned qf such a faithful ser
vant qf Christ, and been brought up at his feet, now he is
dead, should do as John the Baptist's disciples did, go and
tell Jesus? from whom you may receive comfort under
your bereavement, and from whom you may receive more
of that Spirit that dwelt in him, and greater degrees of those
virtues he derived from Christ, to cause you to shine
brighter, and to make you still greater blessings in your
generation. Now death has veiled and hid from sight a
star that shone with reflected light, our text and doctrine
leads you to the Sun, that hath light in himself, and
shines with infinite, unfailing brightness. And while
you go to Jesus, honoured sirs, on this occasion for your
selves, I humbly desire your requests to him for us the
surviving ministers of this county, that he would be with
us, now he has taken from us him that was a father
amongst us.
I next would address myself to the surviving pastor of
this church. We may well look upon you, reverend sir,
as one in an especial manner concerned in this awful pro
vidence, and tbat has a large share in the bereavement.
You doubtless are sensible what reason you have to bless
God for the advantage you have had, in serving in the
gospel of Christ, so long as you have done, with the vener
able person deceased, as a son with a father, enjoying the
benefit of his instructions, counsels, and example. And
particularly, you will often recollect the affectionate and
fatherly counsels he gave you, to diligence and faithful
ness in your Lord's work, with encouragement of his pro-
to follow peace and holiness and to edify one another.

SERMON XVII.

969

tection and assistance to carry you through all difficulties,
the last evening of his life. And now, dear sir, God has
taken him from you, as he took Elijah from Elisha, and
as he took John the Baptist, the New-Testament Elijah,
from his disciples : therefore now you are directed what to
do, viz. go and tell Jesus; as those disciples did. You
have now a great work devolved upon you ; you have him
no more, who, while he lived, was as a father to you, to
guide and assist you, and take the burthen of your great
work from you. Therefore you have no where else to go,
but to your great Lord and Master, that has sent you to
labour in that part of his vineyard, where his a^ed, and
now departed, servant was employed, to seek strength and
wisdom, and divine influence and assistance from him,
and a double portion of that Spirit that dwelt in your
predecessor. And lastly, The text I am upon may be of direction to
us the surviving ministers of this county, what to do on
this sorrowful occasion. God has now taken our father
and master from our head : he has removed him that has
heretofore, under Christ, been very much our strength, that
we have been wont to resort to it in difficult cases for in-
struclion and direction, aud that used to be amongst us
from time to time, in our associations, and that we were
wont to behold as the head and ornament of those conveu-
* Very worthy of our notice was that his farewell message, sent us by
one of our beloved brethren (the Rev. Mr. Williams of Springfield) after
he returned from such a meeting, where he also preached. " I do not ex
pect," said he, " to be with you another Association Meeting: but I give
you this advice, Love your Master, love your work, and love one an-

tions* Where else can we now go but to Jesus, the ever-
living Head of the whole church, and Lord of the whole
harvest, the Fountain of light, our great Lord and Master,
that sends all gospel ministers, and on whom they univer
sally depend ? Let this awful providence bring us to look
to Christ, to seek more of his presence with us ; and that
he would preside as head in our associations : let it bring
us to a more immediate and entire dependence upon him,
for instruction and direction, in all our difficulties.
Let us on this occasion consider what God has done in
this county of late years : it was not many- years ago that
the county was filled with aged ministers, that were our
fathers : but our fathers, where are they? What a great
alteration is made in a little time, in the churches in this
part ofthe land If How frequent of late have been the
warnings of this kind that God has given us to prepare
to give up our account! Let us go to Jesus, and seek
grace of bim that we may be faithful while we live, and
that he would assist us in our great work, that when we
also are called hence, we may give up our account with
joy and not with grief, and that hereafter we may meet
those our fathers, that have gone before us in the faithful
labours of the gospel, and that we may shine forth with
them, as the brightness qf the firmament, and as the stars for
ever and ever.
other." How very expressive of his own spirit ! Like John the beloved
disciple. t The Rev. Mr. Stoddard, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Williams of Deerfield, Mr.
Brewer, and lately have died, Mr. Bull of Westfield, and Mr. Devotion of
Suffield.

THE END.

BUNGAY : PUINTED BY J. R AND C. CHILDS.

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